𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐒™

𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴 lorenzo | 21 | gaymaxxing | offline

— 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐒, 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒, 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖:

★ my ao3 profile

✶ my tumblr upload accont

★ my character a.i pfp

✶ my janitor a.i bots • nsfw only

★ my kofi — buy me a coffee if you want

★ 𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄: non con, dub con, daddykink, dark relationship/romance, dark smut, yandere sex, toxic relationship, yandere relationship, possessive sex, ftm/any/afab/fem pov.

★ 𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄: relationships with minors/pedo, scat, piss kink, character x character.

★ list of characters i write:

miguel o'hara, johnny cage, kenshi takahashi, tomas vrbada, bi-han (sub-zero), scorpion (kuai liang), raiden, kano, lord raiden, shang tsung, albert wesker, nanami kento, spider-man noir, peter b. parker, homelander, adler russell, batman, simon riley (ghost), ghostface, patrick bateman, erron black, arthur morgan, bo sinclair, jason voorhees, hanzo (old scorpion), kuai liang (old sub-zero), fujin, liu kang, jotaro kujo, hiromi higuruma, toji fushiguro, kiryu kazuma, superman, felix neumann, sevika, ambessa, ekko, leon kennedy.

— 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 :

⸺ 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

── 𝐌𝐘 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑 𝐀.𝐈 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

TW: afab reader, NSFW, praise kink, mirror kink, BDSM, soft dom Zeno, SFW, eat out, angst, trauma, inferiority complex, emotional instability, self-loathing, mentions of nightmares, psychological distress, breeding kink, soft sex, Unprotected sex, AFAB Anatomy, vaginal sex...+

⊹ 𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

Being close to Zeno was already complicated, but having a relationship with him was even more so.

When you entered his life, he was still in the middle of a whirlwind of emotions and discoveries. His search to become stronger often blinded him and made him act similarly to Wesker—though never quite the same. After all, there was still humanity behind that thick shell, like a lamb in wolf’s clothing.

Zeno doesn’t just think he’s unworthy of love—he despises any display of affection or pity directed at him. Even if it comes from you, if he notices the slightest hint of pity in your eyes, he’ll snap and storm off in anger.

Zeno has a habit of watching you quietly when you’re distracted—reading, cooking, talking, or even sleeping. Not in a creepy way, but in a disbelieving way, like he’s trying to understand why someone like you would stay with him. Sometimes you catch him staring and he immediately looks away and mutters something defensive like: "Don’t get the wrong idea. I was just… thinking."

He hates admitting it, but he constantly compares himself: “I’m just a poorly made copy.” You try to comfort him, telling him that he’s a different person from what Wesker was, and that’s exactly what makes him special. But the silver-haired man refuses to listen, laughing bitterly as he says you could never understand what it’s like to be seen as a defective clone.

Affection feels strange to him, but it isn’t unwelcome.

He always believed he was unworthy of love, that no one could ever truly fall for him. When you stayed despite his outbursts and his Napoleon complex, Zeno began to realize that what he truly needed wasn’t to be feared by everyone—but to be understood and loved.

The two of you would spend nights watching the stars together. He would listen as you whispered plans for the future, and every time you included him in those dreams, it became one of the rare moments when he could genuinely smile. “All of that, little one? Sounds fun… we’ll definitely do it.”

The older man would say it in a calm voice reserved only for you. You were the only person who ever gave him good memories, and he was genuinely grateful for that.

Aside from the days when he became obsessively focused on surpassing Wesker and becoming more powerful; Zeno was a pleasant partner most of the time—especially considering you had been together for quite a while. He spoiled you with his black card, insisted on taking you out, and helped you with your shopping. And even though he pretended to hate it, he secretly loved when you kissed him in public. To him, it meant you weren’t ashamed to be seen with him. And in that moment, that was the only validation he needed.

Zeno has extremely light sleep—if you're not beside him, he wakes up constantly. But when you're there, he sleeps much deeper; sometimes he unconsciously holds your wrist or shirt while sleeping, like he's making sure you're still there. If you try to leave the bed too early, he pulls you back half-asleep: “Six more minutes… don’t disappear yet.”

He has a habit of removing his glasses only when the two of you are alone. The marks on his face become more visible, and he lowers his gaze, silently waiting for you to touch them. When you kiss one of the scars, his whole body trembles and he groans softly. “Damn it, darling… you really know how to make me weak.”

Zeno also collects the small things you accidentally leave behind—a hair tie, a note, a strand of hair—and keeps them inside an aluminum cigarette case tucked in his coat. Whenever he spends too long away from you, he turns to those little things you left behind: small fragments that remind him he still has a safe harbor to return to, even in the middle of all the chaos.

Despite his superhuman strength, he carries you as if you were made of glass. After losing his powers near Elpis, he still tries to lift you and almost falls—laughing awkwardly as he says: “Sorry… I’m still getting used to being… normal.”

If you take care of him during this crisis, he’ll be deeply grateful—but it won’t be easy. Zeno already had an extreme inferiority complex before (made even worse by Dr. Victor’s mockery after he lost his powers). Because of that, he becomes more guarded, trying to push you away, training until his muscles ache and he collapses exhausted on the floor on some random Tuesday.

The silver-haired man wasn’t used to feeling pain—let alone wounds that took months or even years to truly heal. For the first time in a long time, he felt fragile… more fragile than he had in years.

Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat after a nightmare where someone takes you away from him, and he can do nothing but watch. He tries everything he can for you—anything money can buy, he’ll give you—but his greatest fear is simply losing you one day.

⊹ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

When you bite his throat, scratch down his back until you draw thin red lines, or suck a bruise onto his collarbone where his shirt collar barely hides it, he groans like he’s been wounded in the best way. “Fuck—Yes honey… show to everyone I’m taken... Show I belong to you.” The validation of being visibly claimed overrides his usual shame.

Foreplay is indispensable for him — Zeno is the type of man who secretly craves being subtly teased in public. A slow hand sliding up his thigh under the table during a dull business dinner, your warm breath and soft, filthy whispers against his ear while everyone else drones on, or the “accidental” graze of your fingers over the growing bulge in his pants as you shift in the passenger seat. Each touch sends a visible jolt through him — jaw tightening, breath catching, eyes darkening behind those tinted glasses — but he never stops you. Instead, he leans in just enough to murmur low and rough against your hair: “Keep that up, darling… and I won’t wait until we’re home.”

He used to avoid mirrors — hated seeing the scars, and the reflection of a face that he wasn't sure if it was still his own staring back. But once you start fucking in front of one, something shifts. You make him watch: watch how your body arches for him, how your eyes never leave his even when he tries to look away. “See that, honey?” he whisper while he’s pounding into you from behind, one hand wrapped around your throat, the other pinning your hip. “That’s you making me lose my fucking control...” It becomes a ritual. He’ll fuck you in front of the mirror until he can finally look at his own reflection without flinching — because he sees you wrecked and blissed-out because of him.

He prefers leather cuffs, silk ties, or his own hands pinning you down over elaborate shibari (too fussy, too vulnerable to "perform"). He loves wrists bound above your head so he can see your face — every flinch, every gasp, every time your eyes roll back. Heavy restraint makes him feel in total control, but he always leaves one hand free to touch your face or let you grab his hair if you need grounding.

He has a massive praise kink on the giving side — calling you “my perfect little thing” “so fucking good for me” “look how beautifully you take what I give you.” Hearing you whimper or beg under his words makes him rock-hard. But he secretly craves receiving it too. When you whisper “You're so strong,” “I love how you control me...” or “No one else could make me feel this safe.” mid-scene, his rhythm falters — he grips you harder, thrusts deeper, voice breaking into a rough “Say it again… fuck, say it.” It's the closest he gets to admitting he needs reassurance.

He likes spanking and slapping (on the thighs or ass—never the face unless it’s been pre-negotiated), as well as light flogging. He starts in control, building the intensity slowly based on your reactions. The sound of his palm connecting, your sharp inhale, the way your skin blooms red… it quiets the noise in his head. If you safeword or tense up in the wrong way, he stops instantly, switching to soothing rubs and soft kisses over the marks he’s left behind. Before he ever hits you in the face during sex, he asks about it at least three separate times—before either of you is too turned on to think clearly. And even in the moment, right before raising his hand, he asks again: “Are you sure, darling?” If the answer is yes, he begins with gentle slaps to your face while forcefully fucking your pussy—He'll only really slap you hard in the face after a few sessions and tests, and when he finally does, he'll be completely different. He'll make you open your mouth and spit on your tongue, ordering you to swallow while giving you a hard slap on the cheek at the end, all so that after sex he can give soft kisses to the red mark that's leftn in your skin.

He begs to cum inside without protection (even knowing the risks). When you allow it, he enters slowly, holds your thighs open and fucks you deep, rhythmically, groaning hoarsely: “Let me... please... let me mark you like this. I want to see my cum dripping out of you afterwards.” Every time he cums inside, he stays still, still hard, pressing his hips against yours to "hold" everything in, whispering "D-Don't leave... stay with me... please—you're the only real thing I still have... I love you—Please honey... I just love you s-so fucking much..."

★ 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 © 2026

★ TW: age gap, ddlb (daddy dom/little boy), daddykink, possessiveness, control, emotional dependency, discipline, cockwarming, overstimulation, consensual non-consent undertones, praise/degradation, mild infantilization, somnophilia, breeding kink, ftm reader (pre-op, afab anatomy), nsfw content, aftercare, discipline, light degradation, pet play, enforced obedience, safeword implied, softness after intensity, subdrop prevention, guilt/reassurance themes.

𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

You’re Miguel’s softest thing. His “tiny little man,” as he likes to call you. He’s 6’9” and nearly three of you in size and presence. You’re tiny, with your big eyes always scanning the room like you need permission to speak. He noticed you once—and never let you go after that. You’ve got deep, untreated daddy issues and a need to be told what to do. Miguel slips into the role like a second skin. He tells you what to eat, when to sleep, how to speak, and how to behave—and you cling to the structure like it’s oxygen.

Miguel is parental in every sense: firm but gentle, controlling but warm. He clips your nails, buys your vitamins, reviews your meds himself. He says “You’re mine to take care of. That means your pussy, your pills, your peace.” You sit in his lap while he works, head on his shoulder, legs curled in, fingers in your mouth. He strokes your thigh absentmindedly and hums low whenever you sigh. “You’re such a good boy when you’re quiet like this.”

You don’t leave the house without asking. Not because he’ll get mad—because he trained you not to. That tension in your chest when you think of disobeying? He put it there. And you thank him for it. You have a reward chart. Miguel gives you stickers for small wins—“got up on time,” “took meds,” “cleaned up.” When you hit a goal, you get a reward: new plushies, Daddy’s hoodie, a night of being spoiled in bed. But if you lie or backtalk? You’re punished.

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒:

Miguel calls it “training.” Teaching you what to say, what positions to sleep in, how to come on command. You were already obedient, but under his hand, you became pliant. Willing. His. “Good boys don’t talk back. Good boys don’t say no to Daddy. Good boys open their legs when they’re told, and say thank you when they’re used.” He touches you like you’re his property. Not just his boyfriend—his. Legs spread. Hole exposed. Chest marked. You’re always plugged, worn out, or dripping when he’s around. He likes knowing you’re full of him.

Daddykink / DDLB: You're his little boy, and he’s your whole world. He talks you down when you’re overwhelmed, then fucks you until you cry and call him “Daddy.” He teaches you lessons through your body.

Praise kink + degradation: “You’re Daddy’s perfect baby. Look how well you take it. Look how sweet this cunt gets when I own it.” / “Pathetic little thing. You’d die if I stopped touching you, wouldn’t you?”

Breeding kink: Miguel loves finishing in you. “This pussy was made for me. Say it, baby. Say it while Daddy fills you up.”

Infantilization: Lacy soft clothes. Being carried. Begging. Baby talk. He doesn’t force it—but he loves it when you regress without him even asking. "Look at my baby boy... too dumb and full to even think straight, huh?"

Cockwarming: You ride him in silence while he reads or scrolls. His big hand wrapped around your neck, keeping you still. “This is what you're for. To keep Daddy warm.”

Overstimulation / begging: He holds you down, whispers that good boys take more, pushes past your limits. He ruins you with slow, constant thrusts and a firm voice in your ear: “Keep crying. You’re not done.”

★ 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄:

Miguel’s first instinct after sex or discipline is to wrap you up. He holds you close, chest to chest or your back to his chest, making sure you hear his heartbeat.

He runs a bath for you every time—warm, lavender-scented, dim lights. He washes you himself, from your hair down to your thighs, murmuring in Spanish the whole time: “My sweet boy… you did so well. So proud of you, muñeco.”

You get a warm towel, your favorite oversized shirt, and food—even if it’s 3 a.m. He hand-feeds you if you’re too out of it. Sometimes you don’t even talk—you just blink at him and he strokes your head until you settle.

When you drop emotionally or physically (after intense scenes), he lies with you and keeps eye contact, low voice repeating: “You’re safe. You’re mine. You’re okay.” He rubs cream into any bruises or sore spots and whispers “Daddy didn’t mean to hurt you bad. I know I got rough, baby. But you did so good. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Miguel has a “drop kit” prepared: warm socks, chewable candy, baby wipes, water, a fidget toy, and a heating pad. He makes you suck a lollipop while curled in his lap because he knows it calms you. You’re not allowed to apologize after sex. Not even for crying or asking him to stop. Miguel is strict about that. He’ll hush you and say, “No more ‘sorrys,’ baby. You just tell daddy what you need. That’s all I ever want.”

★ 𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒: 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 — 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍

𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒:

Miguel isn’t the type to scream. If you talk back, ignore him, or deliberately act out, he goes quiet. His voice lowers. “You think that’s funny, bebé?” and suddenly your stomach knots.

He enforces rules: phone privileges revoked, bedtime enforced, chores added. He’ll make you stand in the corner for 10 minutes while he sits nearby reading. “Don’t move unless you want to earn more time, little one.”

Silent treatment isn’t cold—it’s firm. He’ll answer only direct questions and offer minimal affection until you apologize. You hate it. You always end up climbing in his lap teary-eyed, whispering, “I didn’t mean to be bad…”

If you’re especially bratty in public, he’ll grip your wrist tight and murmur low in your ear, “Wait till we get home, baby. You’re not gonna sit right tonight.”

He sometimes uses the “humiliation angle”—not cruel, but corrective: making you repeat rules in a small voice, say “I’m sorry for being a brat, daddy,” and earn your treats again with soft obedience.

★ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒:

If you’re mouthy, Miguel makes you use it properly—he’ll fuck your throat slow and deep until your eyes tear up, whispering, “This is what that smart mouth is good for, right? Take it, muñeco.”

He’ll deny you for hours. Tie you up, play with your chest, rub you close to orgasm and stop every single time. “Brats don’t get to come,” he murmurs, smirking as you cry and beg.

For big offenses? He’ll fuck you with a plug in beforehand and keep it in after—not just to punish but to remind you who you belong to. Light spanking, with words: “Count for me, baby. What do you say after each one?” and you, sniffling, say “Thank you, daddy,” as you go limp over his lap.

If you’re mean or disrespectful, he degrades you lightly: “Such a spoiled little thing. You like acting out so I’ll put you in your place, huh? That what you want, baby?”

Sometimes he records you—your voice, your cries, your moans—and plays it back later when you act out. “Wanna hear how sweet you sound when you’re not being a little brat?” but it always ends in you sobbing into his chest, overwhelmed, overstimulated, sorry. And Miguel holding you tight, whispering “I got you. It’s over now. Shhh, daddy’s here.”

— TW: stepincest, short smut, ftm reader, vulnerable kink, non con, age gap.

Seriously thinking about stepdad simon taking care of you with a fever, waiting for you, his sweet prince to be feverish enough to not even notice his fingers going straight to your pussy, fingering you while eating another hand he passed a cold fabric over your skin, telling you to be quiet and be his good boy — rubbing your clit while giving soft kisses over your face, the fabric of his skull balaclava brushing against your sensitive skin.

"So cute... Helpless and sweet, you're just a dumb little thing for daddy to fuck, aren't you?" the military man would whisper as he sank two thick fingers into your extremely hot channel, you wouldn't even be able to close your thighs, the fever and the heat of being touched by the British would only make you moan—choking on your own voice.

It wouldn't be long before you were being fucked by the blond, his dripping cock buried deep in your pussy, his blue eyes dancing across your body as you could feel precum dripping from your hole—he would praise you for holding out so long for him. "A good fucktoy for daddy, huh?" his hips met yours aggressively, to the point that your pussy turned a deep, ruddy red - the delicious friction of his thrusts mixing with the sweaty sheen of your fevered skin.

The obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh filled the room, punctuated by your muffled moans and his grunts of exertion; drool leaked from the corner of your mouth as the intense pleasure overwhelmed your senses —your cunt clenching desperately around his cock as if trying to pull him even deeper. "You love this, don't you, you filthy boy?" Your mind was too hazy to form a coherent response, lost in the haze of fever and fucked-stupid bliss. The last thing you felt was the blonde's hot cum filling you to the brim, and your exhaustion making you fall asleep. When you woke up, you were completely clean, and Simon was watching TV in the living room.

You wondered if that had been a strange dream, feeling guilty enough to cover yourself with the sheet again and try to ignore your cloudy mind and trembling legs... Was it just another fever dream about your hot stepdad?

Meanwhile, Riley sighed, satisfied that no questions had been asked. His dick was still dirty with your juices, but he decided to ignore it and wait for the adrenaline to settle in his chest. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d make you sick on purpose just to "take care of you."

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 summary: you woke up your step!uncle in a different way... Or maybe it's another perverted dream of his...?

♡⁠ smut totally inspired by my bot on janitor a.i ♡⁠

♡⁠┊tw: somnophilia, cnc, dub con, v!sex, dark romance, smut, v!sex, oral fixation, ftm reader, use of lingerie, afab anatomy, dark themes...+

Tio Miguel was back at the farm that night, another damn excuse for the family to get together, drink themselves stupid, and pretend to care about some meaningless celebration. The smell of beer, sweat, and smoke filled the air, blending with the loud, slurred conversations of relatives who would say anything after a few shots. He didn’t care about any of it — not the food, not the laughter, not the festivities.

He was there for one thing, or rather, one person: you.

Ever since his wife died, Miguel had been a shell of himself. He wasn’t the strong, untouchable man people once admired. He was broken, hollow, and full of desires that made him question every shred of decency he had left. Falling for you — his so-called “nephew” by family consideration — was proof of how far he’d fallen.

You weren’t even blood, just a boy with a face and body that made his cock stir every time you were near.

However, it didn’t matter.

He knew well how wrong it was, how twisted it looked, but that didn’t stop the fantasies from creeping into his mind every time he saw you.

And tonight, you were in everywhere — your laugh cutting through the crowd, your body moving in that damn shirt that clung to you in all the right ways. His eyes never left you, burning holes through you from across the yard. He tried to act like he wasn’t watching, like his blood wasn’t boiling every time you so much as looked his way, but the drinks in his system made it impossible. Every word exchanged between you two was laced with tension, your innocent smile betraying the way your eyes lingered on his lips or the way your voice dropped ever so slightly when you spoke to him.

It drove him insane.

By the time the party wound down, with most people passed out drunk or stumbling around like idiots, the man had enough. He muttered some excuse and made his way inside your parents’ house, heading straight to the guest room. He kicked off his boots, let his hat fall to the floor, and collapsed onto the bed, trying to drown out the heat coursing through his body with the haze of whiskey and exhaustion. But it wasn’t enough to keep his thoughts from wandering back to you.

Sleep came quickly, but it didn’t last. A sharp, intense sensation dragged him out of his slumber. He groaned, his brows furrowing as his mind struggled to piece together what was happening. Then he felt it again — hot, wet friction against his cock. His eyes snapped open, and there you were, straddling his lap like a wet dream. Your hips rocked against him, your pussy slick as it slid over his pulsing length. The soft light filtering through the window highlighted the way your body moved, and for a moment, he thought he was hallucinating.

"Is this real...? Baby- is that really you?" His voice came out muffled as you continued your shallow movements, the delicious friction of your hips making him throw his head back. He struggled to adjust his eyes to the full view of your lap—your body adorned in delicate lingerie, the lace of your panties pushed to the side, granting him a perfect view of your wet pussy grinding against his aching length.

The slick mess you were making was almost too good to be real, too intoxicating to be just another wet dream conjured by his obsessive mind. Miguel's breath shuddered as he reached for you, rough hands sliding up your thighs, gripping tight enough to bruise.

His head was spinning—whiskey, exhaustion, and now you—but this?

This felt real.

Too fucking real.

His fingers twitched as they traced the damp lace barely hanging onto your hips. He groaned low in his throat, his cock throbbing beneath you, slick with the evidence of your need.

"Dios mío..." His voice was thick, hoarse from sleep and disbelief. His grip flexed, digging into your skin as if trying to ground himself. His dark eyes dragged over your body, drinking in the way you moved—slow, teasing, grinding down against him like you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

A guttural groan ripped from his chest as his hands shot up, grabbing your hips and forcing you down harder, deeper, making sure you felt every inch of him. His forehead pressed to yours, his breath hot, ragged.

"Fuck..." He hissed through clenched teeth, his thumbs digging into your skin as his lips brushed over yours—not kissing, just breathing you in. His hips rolled up instinctively, chasing the friction, the heat, the unbearable need clawing at his gut.

"You know what you're askin' for, don't you?" His voice was low, dangerous, his lips grazing against your jaw as his fingers slipped beneath your panties, pushing them further aside. "You're not gonna take it back, cariño?"

But he already knew the answer.

"Mierda... Fuck it... Just use my cock..."

He whimpered as you finally positioned his thick, precum-dripping tip at your soaked entrance, his broad hands gripping your hips with bruising force. Then, without warning, he drove himself inside, stretching you open with a deep, shuddering groan. The moans spilling from both of you were low, laced with raw hunger, the obscene slickness between your bodies making it impossible to hold back.

Fucking you raw had been an obsession—something he fantasized about every time he fisted his cock, every time he caught your scent, every time you so much as looked at him. And now that he had you, bare and perfect around him, his control frayed with every desperate thrust.

Your walls clenched around him like a vice, hot and wet, and the thought slammed into him like a freight train: he needed to fill you. His breath hitched, and his pace stuttered for a second before he fucked into you harder, deeper, chasing something primal. His heavy balls slapped against you, already aching, already desperate to claim.

Your breasts bounced with every movement, hypnotizing him, making him groan as he latched onto a nipple, sucking with messy, open-mouthed need. You were so fucking soft, so warm—his mind spun at the thought of pumping you full, making sure his release stuck, watching it drip out of you only to fuck it back in.

The pressure coiled tight in his spine, unbearable now. His grip on you tightened, possessive, as his thrusts turned sharp, desperate.

He was going to breed you—whether you realized it or not — the thought of getting his step-nephew pregnant was as sickening as it was tempting.

Miguel was gone. Lost. Drowning in the unbearable heat of your body as you sat flush against his lap, stuffed full of his cock. His breath came in ragged pants between deep, messy kisses, his lips swollen and wet from how hungrily he devoured your mouth. His hands gripped your waist tight, almost bruising, as he rocked you against him—desperate, frenzied, like he couldn’t get deep enough.

"Mi—mi niño precioso," he groaned, forehead pressed against yours as he forced you to take every inch. "So fucking good—so perfect, just like that."

His head fell back against the headboard, eyes glassy, half-lidded as he stared at the lewd mess between you. His thick length was completely buried inside your wet, twitching heat, your slick dripping down to his heavy balls, coating them in proof of how well you took him. The sight alone made him throb inside you, his hands trembling as they roamed your body.

Another sharp slap landed on your ass, making you jolt, but Miguel only grunted, rolling his hips up hard as if punishing you for squeezing him too tight. His fingers curled around the delicate fabric of your lingerie, tugging it aside to expose you more, his breaths turning ragged.

"Want me to fill you up—do you want me to get you pregnant? Make you the father of my children?"

He didn't even know what he was saying anymore. His mind was drunk on the way you clenched around him, the way your body sucked him in, begged for him without words. It made something raw and desperate coil in his gut, his grip on your hips growing almost frantic as he fucked up into you, making the bed shake.

"Tell me it’s real..." he rasped, his voice cracking as his nails dug into your soft skin. "Tell me you’ll take it—fuck—tell me I can really give it to you."

His thrusts turned erratic, brutal, his whole body trembling beneath you. Another slap, then another, hard enough to leave your skin burning. He couldn’t stop. Couldn’t hold back.

And then—he shattered.

Miguel's breath hitched as his orgasm slammed into him, a deep, broken moan tearing from his throat as he came inside you, filling you to the brim with thick, hot ropes of cum. His body locked up, muscles tensing, fingers gripping you so tight he might never let go. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes, his lips trembling as he whined through the aftershocks, burying his face in your neck.

"Take it—G-God—please, take all of it."

His hips gave a few more shallow rolls, making sure he was as deep as possible, making sure none of it would go to waste. Even as the haze of pleasure started to settle, his hands were still possessively holding your hips, as if afraid you’d slip away before he could fuck you all over again.

Miguel barely registered the loss of warmth when you lifted yourself off his cock, the slick drag of your walls pulling away making his breath shudder. He felt it—his cum leaking out of you, trailing down your inner thighs, wasted. His fingers twitched, instinct screaming at him to grab your hips, push you back down, make sure you kept every drop.

But you said nothing.

No teasing remark, no soft moan—nothing. You just slipped off him, standing on unsteady legs, your body still trembling from the way he had ruined you. Miguel’s dazed eyes followed the mess between your thighs, his jaw clenching at the sight of his seed dripping from you, his mark already fading as if it had never been there.

Then, without a glance back, you left.

The door clicked shut behind you, leaving Miguel alone in the dimly lit room, his body still burning with the ghost of your touch. The air felt colder, the silence almost suffocating, but his limbs were too heavy, his mind too sluggish to chase after you. He exhaled a deep, shaky breath, his head falling back against the pillows.

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe it was just a dream, right?

Maybe it was just another one of those sick, forbidden dreams—another twisted fantasy his mind had conjured up to torment him.

Sleep pulled him under before he could think too hard about it.

♡⁠

Morning came with golden light bleeding through the blinds, painting warm streaks across Miguel’s face. He stirred, a low groan leaving his throat as the dull ache in his muscles reminded him of the night before. His sheets smelled like sex, like sweat, like you. But the haze of sleep convinced him, again, that it wasn’t real.

Just another fantasy.

Just another sin his mind had indulged in while his hands worked over his cock in the dark. A damn perverted old man, with another dream of fucking his own nephew.

With a tired sigh, Miguel reached for his jeans on the floor, shaking them out before sliding them on—until his fingers brushed against something soft in his pocket.

His brows furrowed.

He pulled it out, and the second he saw the delicate lace of your panties, his breath caught in his throat.

Soft. Expensive. Yours.

A slow exhale left his lips, with amusement flickering behind his eyes as he let the fabric slip between his fingers. He should’ve felt guilt. Maybe he did, buried somewhere beneath the thick, heady satisfaction curling in his stomach.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, lazy, smug, still laced with sleep.

"Oh God... How I love that boy..."

His voice was hushed, almost to himself, as he tucked the lace back into his pocket.

After all, he wasn’t done with you yet.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 summary: Doing a striptease for a few bucks on her lap, you got more than just a paycheck...

♡┊TW: fem!reader, wlw, afab anatomy, body worship, praise kink, fingering, striptease, dom!sevika, eat out, fluff ending.

✎ this smut is a commission.

She had been watching you from the moment you stepped into the brothel—drawn like a moth to flame. You were the center of attention, a vision of honey and ambrosia, pulling in patrons with a magnetism they couldn’t resist. But Sevika wasn’t just another admirer.

She needed you.

You weren’t some cheap whore, no, no. You were royalty—an untouchable queen, a divine seductress meant to be worshipped. Every movement of your body was deliberate, sensual, never vulgar. You knew exactly how to wield your beauty, controlling each motion like an erotic puppet master. And the entire room was ensnared.

Sevika was no exception.

She watched, entranced, her desire for you evolving from a passing indulgence into an all-consuming obsession. When she finally approached, offering a drink, her voice was smooth but edged with hunger. She complimented your performance, hinted at her craving to see more—privately.

You teased her, claiming your time was too costly, too exclusive. But she didn’t hesitate. She offered more than she’d make in months, just for the chance to have you to herself. Doubts be damned. If Silco had any objections, she’d handle it. All that mattered was you.

She followed as you led her to the back, sinking into a plush armchair, the dim light casting shifting shadows across your body. Cigar smoke curled from her lips as she watched you, unblinking, taking in every curve, every teasing movement.

Sevika could die right then and there. She was already in heaven.

Then the music started.

Her large hands found your waist, pulling you close. The scent of her cologne mixed with the lingering tobacco in the air, the heady musk wrapping around you. Her tired, battle-hardened eyes gleamed as she exhaled, smoke curling between you.

"Beautiful… You’re fucking amazing… So hot…"

Her rough palms squeezed at your flesh, encouraging you to move, to grind against her, and you obeyed—pressing closer, teasing her further. She groaned, deep and guttural, her breath warm against your skin. Bills slipped from where she’d stuffed them into your lingerie, fluttering to the floor. And then, her cigarette slipped from her lips. She barely noticed as she crushed it out against the wall, too captivated by the soft swell of your breasts in her face. When you didn’t push her away, Sevika took it as permission. She leaned in, pressing slow, lingering kisses to your skin, murmuring between them.

"I’ve been watching you for so long… So fucking long, sweetheart."

Her left hand drifted lower, fingertips ghosting over your panties. She hesitated.

"Can I?" she rasped, voice thick with need. "I don’t want to do anything you don’t want. I’ll pay extra. I’ll pay fortunes—just to touch you."

Her fingers trembled, waiting. But when your needy voice gave her the permission she craved, she didn’t hesitate. Sevika groaned as her fingers pressed against your core through the damp fabric, rubbing slow, deliberate circles over your clit. Her mouth found your breasts, sucking and trailing wet kisses over each one, her touch perfectly in sync with the rhythm of your dance.

And finally, she pushed the lace aside.

A sharp inhale. A quiet curse.

"Huh—Look at this pretty little thing."

She watched, mesmerized, as you glistened for her, your slickness coating her fingertips as you rolled your hips, grinding against her touch.

"I want to fuck you so bad, sweetheart," she groaned— "Fuck you until your thighs tremble." Sevika's breath came hot and heavy against your skin, her fingers teasing, exploring—but never quite giving in just yet. She was savoring this, dragging it out, as if committing every second to memory.

"You're already so wet for me... dripping. Fucking perfect."

Her fingers traced lazy circles over your clit, pressing just enough to make you shudder against her. The soft fabric of your lingerie did little to dull the sensation—if anything, the slight friction made it all the more intoxicating. You arched into her touch, your body betraying you, craving more. Sevika chuckled low in her throat, her amusement laced with desire.

"So desperate already? Thought you were the one in control here."

Her other hand, rough and calloused, trailed up your spine, gripping your hip as she pulled you closer, pressing your bodies together. With a slow, deliberate motion, she finally slid the damp lace aside, exposing you completely to her gaze. She groaned at the sight, fingers sliding through your slick folds, spreading you open. Her thumb pressed against your clit as two thick fingers teased at your entrance, barely pushing inside before retreating again. She was toying with you, testing your patience.

"Tell me how bad you want it..." she demanded "I want to hear you beg for it."

She leaned in, lips grazing your ear, her breath sending shivers down your spine.

"Be a good girl and tell me."

Your hands gripped her shoulders, nails digging into the leather of her jacket, your body burning with frustration and need. You could beg—but something about the challenge in her voice made you want to push back.

So instead, you smirked. Rolled your hips against her fingers, forcing her hand deeper between your legs. That smile; She loved knowing how hot you knew you were... Sevika's nostrils flared, her jaw tightening.

For a second, she just stared at you—then, with a growl, she obeyed. Her fingers plunged inside you without warning, stretching you, filling you. Your gasp turned into a moan as she curled them just right, pressing against the spot that made your thighs tremble.

"Fuck—there we go..." she moan, watching the way you clenched around her, how your body responded so perfectly. "Knew you'd feel good around me." Her pace started slow but firm, dragging her fingers in and out, working you open, making you feel every inch of her. Her thumb rubbed tight circles over your clit, pushing you higher, closer to that edge — you whimpered, head falling against her shoulder, but she wasn’t having that.

"Nah, honey— I wanna see that pretty face when you cum."

Her pace quickened, her fingers relentless, and all you could do was take it—take her—as the pleasure coiled tight in your stomach, ready to snap. Sevika grinned, sensing your impending release.

"Come on... Cum for me, babygirl."

And when you finally shattered, shaking apart in her arms, Sevika just held you through it—watching, savoring, completely fucking ruined for anyone else... Marking you as perhaps the best orgasm you've had in a while. Sevika didn’t stop—not yet. Her fingers slowed but didn’t retreat, keeping you trembling in her lap, riding the aftershocks of your orgasm. She watched you with something between hunger and fascination, her thumb still ghosting over your sensitive clit, drawing out every last pulse of pleasure.

"Good girl for me... accepting me so well..." she says soft, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder. "So fucking pretty when you come."

Your breath hitched, body twitching under her touch, but she wasn’t done. Not by a long shot.

"Think you can handle more, miss?" she asked, her tone almost mocking, knowing damn well you could barely think, let alone answer. But your body spoke for you—hips rolling instinctively against her hand, already craving another taste of that high.

Sevika chuckled darkly.

"That’s what I thought."

Without another word, she eased you back against the plush couch, spreading your legs wider as she settled between them. Her fingers withdrew from your soaked heat only to be replaced by something hotter—her mouth. A sharp gasp left your lips as she pressed open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh, inhaling deeply as if memorizing your scent.

Her tongue flicked over your clit, teasing, tasting, before she latched on properly, sucking just hard enough to make your entire body jolt. Your fingers found their way into her hair, gripping the short strands as your thighs instinctively tried to close around her head — sevika growled, gripping your thighs in response, keeping you spread for her.

"Spread those thighs, little bitch."

Her tongue worked you over with slow, deliberate precision—alternating between soft flicks and deep, wet strokes that had you arching off the couch. She moaned against you, clearly enjoying this just as much as you were, the vibrations sending shocks of pleasure straight through you.

"Taste so fucking good.., you're a goddess..." she muttered before diving back in, licking into you like she was starving. You couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe—your world had narrowed down to nothing but the wet heat of her mouth and the way she devoured you. Her tongue moved with agonizing precision—long, languid strokes over your clit, alternating between teasing flicks and deep, indulgent licks that had you gasping for air.

"That’s it, baby... So responsive… I could spend hours right here, just tasting you."

She sucked, slow and deep, her grip tightening on your thighs as she pinned you open, refusing to let you shy away from her hunger. Her groan vibrated against you, making your body jolt, your fingers tightening in her short, dark hair.

"You make the prettiest sounds..." she rasped, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thigh before dipping back down, dragging her tongue over your soaked heat again. Her pace quickened, tongue working in perfect, practiced rhythm—driving you higher, closer to the edge, until you were on the verge of falling apart all over again—

And then she stopped.

A desperate whimper left your lips as she pulled back, her mouth glistening, her expression smug and wicked. She wiped her chin with the back of her hand, then leaned in, capturing your lips in a deep, messy kiss, letting you taste yourself on her tongue. Without warning, her touch softened. She pulled back just enough to study your face, her dark eyes flickering with something different—something softer.

"Let’s get out of here."

Her voice was lower now, rougher, but not from lust—from something else entirely. She brushed a thumb over your kiss-swollen lips, so your dazed eyes met hers.

"I want to to know the pretty woman behind these curves... Let me take you somewhere nice. Just you and me— I'll pay for everything and also for your overtime, I promise."

Sevika leaned in, pressing a final, lingering kiss to your lips before pulling back, already reaching for her cigar. She smirked as she lit it, the glow from the flame casting warm shadows across her face. Flicking the lighter shut, she exhaled a slow stream of smoke, tilting her head toward the door.

"Come on princess... Your shift isn't over yet."

♡⁠┊TW: mtf!sevika, ftm!reader, vaginal penetration, au, t-dick, breeding, mommykink, unprotected sex...+

She would be astonished and proud that you lasted so many hours on her cock. It had been a long time since the two of you had fucked like animals in heat. The older woman's cock throbbed with each thrust of her hips meeting yours, every expression of pleasure spilling from your lips as you rode her like your life depended on it. The sensation was intoxicating—like honey, sweeter and more addictive than the purest drug. She knew she would never tire of it.

You were so wet she could feel it dripping down to her balls, the obscene, beautiful sounds of your slick echoing through the room. Your already sore and reddened pussy clung to her, while your t-dick was overstimulated to the point of aching. Yet, she didn't stop. Her fingers continued massaging that sensitive spot, drawing out desperate whimpers of her name from your lips like a mantra. You begged her to cum again, to fill your womb until you couldn’t feel your legs anymore. But she couldn’t stop—she wouldn’t.

Even as your muscles burned and pleaded for rest, your core craved more. Struggling to find your wife’s soft breasts amidst the overwhelming pleasure, you clung to her as she used her hips to hit your sweet spot repeatedly.

The older woman grunted and moaned, her hands gently holding your head in place as she encouraged you to suck on her nipples and the soft flesh of her breasts. She watched you through a haze of pleasure, her cock pulsing deep inside your body.

"Good boy..." she murmured, her voice hoarse and dripping with affection. "Taking everything mommy has to offer, huh? Fuck... I’m going to fill you up so much—I’ll make you such a beautiful father."

Her hands gripped your hips tighter, her thrusts growing sharper as she grabbed your ass cheeks to drive herself deeper, the head of her cock brushing against your womb. She slapped your face gently, forcing you to look into her eyes. The firmness of her grip kept you grounded, though it would have been easier to lose yourself completely in the overwhelming sensation.

Her thumb traced your bottom lip, her gaze softening as she smiled faintly. A warning pulse of her cock made you gasp. "I want you to keep it all inside, okay? I want to make sure my husband takes it all like the strong man he is."

Her words hypnotized you, making you whimper and beg for another hot load. Sevika was all too happy to grant your wish. Her final thrusts were accompanied by the sound of skin slapping and filthy words spilling into the air. When she came again, you felt your walls milk her cock, greedily taking every drop of her cum as it painted your insides. Her thick fingers pressed against your entrance, ensuring not a single drop escaped.

She kissed your forehead, her hand soothingly running along your back as you calmed. "It’s okay, baby boy. You took it all like a good man. I can’t wait to see you looking beautiful and full with our children." she whispered, her voice tender and filled with promise.

And if the next few weeks didn’t bring results, she would make sure you stayed on her cock until they did—even if it meant keeping you there 24/7.

★ ! yanderestarangel©

— tw: soft!dom sevika, fluff, wife sevika, soft sex, praise kink, biting kink, hexstrap, fingering, dirty talk, marriage, mommykink, oral fixation, afab reader, eat out, dp, vibrators, breedkink, smut, anal, sub!reader, no pronouns used.

♡⁠┊Sevika is a caring companion, and even though her behavior is different when she is Silco's henchwoman, she has a soft spot for you and the life you two have built together. It wasn’t easy for her to accept her feelings for you. In the beginning, you two were just friends with benefits, and Sevika only enjoyed the sex you had. She would get bored and think. "At least I don't have to pay for someone else at the brothel." She knew it was a horrible thought and was ashamed of having such a selfish mentality. This would be a secret she would keep forever and take to the grave—she would never hurt you by admitting what she thought before developing feelings.

♡⁠┊ As time went on, she gave in to the feelings that persistently warmed her heart and soul. Your smile was the first thing to make her blush—and she hadn’t even thought that was possible. She had always been so controlled and objective that it genuinely shocked her to feel the overwhelming need to have you by her side 24/7. Soon, the word "passion" echoed through her mind like a haunting melody. She found you more addictive than the nicotine that coursed through the cigarettes she smoked.

♡⁠┊Before long, what started as "friends with benefits" naturally evolved into "lovers."

♡⁠┊There was a Sevika before you and a Sevika after you. She had never been the kind of woman who worried about getting home or keeping track of dates. Her life revolved around late nights in the casino’s accounting department, playing poker, grabbing meals from nearby vendors, and caring little about commitments that didn’t involve Silco.

♡⁠┊But after you came into her life, she started making an effort to be an acceptable girlfriend. At first, the change in routine felt strange to her. The loud music she once thrived on was replaced by soft conversations with you about each other's day, accompanied by chaste smiles. She even found herself helping you in the kitchen—passing ingredients and stealing glances at you, looking so adorably domestic to her. Adorable as hell, she’d think, trying to hide the silly smile that crept onto her lips as you continued chatting about your day while she was at work.

♡⁠┊Everyone noticed how much the "big mama" had changed. She was still the tough, no-nonsense woman everyone knew, but there was a new spark to her—a contentment, as if she were finally 100% happy with herself. She began taking better care of herself, and though she wouldn’t admit it outright, she loved when you noticed the little changes she made. A new hairstyle, a fresh haircut, a different lipstick or gloss, or even a change in the eyeshadow she wore—your compliments made her day. "Do you like it? Thank you... I decided to look prettier for you, baby." she’d say with a soft smile, handing you a bouquet of your favorite roses before pulling you into a tight hug. She’d carry you inside, ready to spend hours talking with you, only for the evening to melt into passionate kisses on the couch.

♡⁠┊Sevika expresses her love through acts of service and heartfelt compliments. She’ll do anything to make you comfortable. Though she never imagined sharing her home with anyone, she started taking better care of the space for your sake. When you can’t handle the household chores, she steps in without hesitation—bringing you breakfast in bed and lingering for a moment to make sure you’re okay—"Let me know if you need anything; I’ll come running." she says protective, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead and giving you one last look before leaving the house. Her presence is felt throughout the streets in her actions and reputation, but no matter where she goes, her mind always drifts back to you.

♡⁠┊The marriage proposal came naturally to Sevika. You two had been living together for a while, and she knew without a doubt that you were her great love. At forty, she had no patience for games anymore—it was all or nothing. You were lying in bed when the moment came. "We've been together for a while, right? How about we make things official? Me, you, a nice wedding..." she began, her words a little hesitant as she reached into the drawer with her mechanical arm, pulling out a beautiful red velvet box. She opened it quickly, revealing two rose gold rings. She had carefully chosen a design that suited both of you, seeking help to find the perfect pair. In the end, the cost didn’t matter—it was worth every penny. "You know I love you more than anything. Will you marry me, angel face?" Sevika finally asked, her voice filled with sincerity as she held the ring engraved with her name and gently slipped it onto your finger. It was a simple proposal, shared in the intimacy of your bedroom on an ordinary weekday. Yet, for Sevika, it became an extraordinary moment—a day that would forever hold a sweet place in her heart, the day you said yes and accepted her as your wife.

♡⁠┊Your wedding was simple, just as Sevika had suggested. Money was tight, so she proposed a civil ceremony at the registry office, followed by a quiet picnic in the park where you could spend the day together. She wore a black suit, sharp yet understated, and happily let you make flower crowns for both of you to wear. Lying with her head resting on your thighs, she spoke softly about your future plans, weaving dreams of the life you’d build together. She promised that once your financial situation improved, she’d throw you a grand ceremony—regardless of whether you told her it wasn’t necessary.

♡⁠┊ "Don’t talk nonsense, sweetie. Just wait until I have some good money, okay? Mama's here will give you everything you deserve. Those weddings for rich people are really expensive." she’d say with determination, her voice firm yet tender. As you played with her hair, she smoked leisurely, her gaze alternating between the sky and you. "Just wait for the money to come in, okay? I promise things will get better for us, one day..." she murmured, exhaling smoke through her nose. Sevika didn’t know exactly when things would change for the better, but she held tightly to hope and faith. Until then, she gave you all the love and support she had, pure and unwavering. For her, it wasn’t about the money—it was about showing you, in every way she could, just how much you meant to her.

♡⁠┊And this romanticism transforms into touches of heat on your honeymoon. Sevika adores you as if you were a deity, laying you down on the bed and kissing every inch of your skin. She gently removes the clothes you wore at the wedding, whispering sweet words that send shivers through both of you: "I've waited so long for this, honey... I love you so much it hurts." She kisses your belly, trailing down to your intimacy, leaving soft kisses over your still-clothed pussy. Pushing aside the already damp fabric, she presses her nose against your clit.

♡⁠┊"I will always adore you. You are my world, my most precious thing in this life..." Her green eyes shine as they meet yours, and she carefully removes your panties, returning to kiss the inside of your thighs. Finally, her full lips meet your cunt, a hoarse grunt escaping her as she closes her eyes, savoring your taste. It doesn’t take long for her to lose herself in you, a comfortable heat blooming within her as you pull her hair and rub your hips against her face. Both of her hands hold you firmly in place while the older woman pushes her tongue into your hole, fucking you slowly and savoring every moment of your essence.

♡⁠┊She would slide two fingers inside you, making you feel every inch as they filled and caressed your spongy walls, drawing you tighter around her touch. "Do you want a third finger, darling? Are you that needy, huh? You're making me so proud... Taking me so well." she whispers with a teasing grin. When she adds a third finger, the sensation is overwhelming—you've never felt so full in your entire life. Her tongue lavishes attention on every inch of your bundle of nerves, her lips and tongue working in harmony to send waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your wife becomes utterly pussy drunk, grunting in excitement as she urges you to give her more of your juices, moaning for you like it’s her greatest pleasure. She doesn’t stop until she makes you squirt, her relentless mouth and fingers ensuring her face is soaked. "Fuck... Holy hell, my angel. You should see your face right now, you know?" she murmurs with satisfaction, wiping some of your wetness from her face with the back of her hand. Her fingers drip with your essence, the sight so erotic it leaves her wet and desperate to make you cum over and over, determined to keep you crying out for her all night long.

♡⁠┊She quickly searches for the strap-on she bought especially for that night—one designed with two attachments for double penetration. The second dildo was crafted for anal play, a vibrating device made of the same material as her mechanical arm. Sevika chose this because she didn’t want to use her arm directly on you, knowing its hard, metallic structure might hurt you. Instead, she always finds creative ways to surprise you, just like tonight.

Carefully, she prepares your body. Her skilled fingers, warm tongue, and plenty of lubricant ensure that both your holes are ready for her. Once you’re comfortable, she lines up the dual-function strap-on, slowly impaling you with precision and care. Her hips move in tandem with the vibrations from the anal dildo, creating an overwhelming wave of pleasure you’ve never felt before.

"Shit, baby, look at this—wet as fuck... You're so greedy, always asking for more. My fuck toy holes are never satisfied, huh?" she teases, her voice low and dripping with desire. She slides two fingers into your mouth, coaxing you to suck on them while she fucks you slowly, savoring every moment. Sevika holds back her own orgasm, her pussy aching and dripping between her muscular thighs as she watches you, beautifully open and writhing for her. Her restraint only heightens her desire, every movement and sound you make driving her wild as she focuses on bringing you to heights of unimaginable ecstasy.

♡⁠┊Sevika activated the function to release a hot liquid from the strap-on, similar to semen. It was a type of hot, translucent lubricant designed to stimulate you and feed her fantasies of shaping your body. "That's it... love, I want to get pregnant so much, you know? You're going to look so beautiful full of my cock. Moan for mommy, moan loudly." she moaned hoarsely, biting your shoulder and making you bite hers too. It was a fair exchange; you would mark her, and she would do the same. She slapped you hard on the ass, moving her hips back and forth quickly while holding your neck and joining your lips in a kiss that mixed your moans. Her breasts pressed against yours, making both your nipples hard as she went harder, finally making you squeeze the silicone cock as the hot artificial liquid rewarded you, leaking from your holes and leaving you dizzy with the specially made substance. "I love you so much... you are mine forever..." Sevika gasped, resting her head on your breasts, kissing the soft flesh and biting gently as she pulled out of you.

♡⁠┊After the mess, she will clean you up and give you a bath, along with herself, not letting you fall due to your legs being weak from the orgasm. She dresses you in one of her loose blouses and puts clean sheets on the bed, placing you to lie in her strong arms, giving you a kiss on the forehead, sighing, also tired, but satisfied. "Go to sleep, so when you wake up, I'll still be here to enjoy our honeymoon." Sevika promises, calming you down as she waits for you to fall asleep so she can rest peacefully. It was a small new beginning among so many others, but she swore to herself to always make you happy, and the moon was the witness to that, bathing the two of you in silver on that night of peace and love—everything you needed, everything she needed, and now, there was you."

♡┊tw: mtf!sevika, au, afab reader, mommykink, creampie, body worship, praise kink, ovestimulation, unprotected sex, breeding.

"Such a needy little thing, aren't you? So desperate for mommy's cock."

The words left the older woman's mouth as a hoarse and needy grunt.

After spending an entire day cleaning the mess that had been left on her back and taking care of Silco's affairs, Sevika was so horny that she arrived home with her cock hard, practically visible through her pants.

The bulge was rubbed on your ass as soon as she found you in some room. Feeling your scent and throbbing even more, she was needy, needing to take it all out on you and your beautiful body.

Clothes were quickly removed by the two of you, while Sevika whispered how much she missed you and how much she needed this, to bury herself in your pussy until she forgot all the stress and anger that made her muscles tense.

She was on top of you in the blink of an eye, her mechanical prosthetic hand gently but firmly holding your hip, making you shiver at the strangely cold sensation of the metal. Her other hand had two fingers inside your cunt, curling them as she let your juices drip onto the sheets. A soft and smug smile could be seen on the henchwoman's dark lips, her gaze clouded, and drops of precum already escaping from her throbbing length.

"You're adorable when you're dumb,.. Just thinking about when I'm gonna fuck you uh?? Like a good slut... So fucking hot."

Sevika's hand continued its torturously slow exploration between your legs, her fingers sliding through your slick folds, teasing your entrance. She loved how soft and smooth you felt, how perfectly you fit in her hand. Her fingers moved slowly, teasingly, brushing over your sensitive flesh and making you whimper and arch into her touch. However, she soon felt you wanting more. She felt your wet heat rubbing against her hardening cock, her hips bucking up involuntarily.

The tall woman gripped your hips tightly, guiding you as you ground against her, coating her shaft in your slick arousal. Sevika loved how eager you were, how you seemed to crave her touch, her body, with such intensity. She needed that, to feel that you were there, that everything was real. Sevika's hands slid down to grip your ass, kneading the soft flesh as she pulled you down onto her, the head of her cock nudging insistently at your entrance —She rocked her hips up, pushing the tip of her cock inside you, just barely breaching your tight hole. The sensation was electric, sending shivers down her spine.

"Damn, sweetheart... a-a fucking tight pussy, you're going to make me cum so hard..." —she forced herself to go slow, to savor every moment of this... Even if it was impossible with every obscene and beautiful sound that came out of your mouth every time your balls hit your ass. Sevika began to move, her hips rocking up to meet yours, setting a slow, deep rhythm.

Each thrust was measured and deliberate, designed to hit that sweet spot inside you that made your toes curl. But as much as she wanted to cum, to fill you up with her seed, Sevika knew she couldn't rush this. Not when you were looking at her with those big, pleading eyes, not when you were whimpering so sweetly for her touch.

So instead, she pulled out suddenly, making you both groan at the loss. But then she was rubbing the tip of her cock against your sensitive clit, the head slick with your juices, and you were crying out, your back arching beautifully; her hips rocking against you, the tip of her cock sliding through your wet folds, not quite entering you but teasing your entrance. It was maddening, the way she touched you, the way she denied you what you needed most.

"Do you really deserve to be fucked by me?... Or can't handle your own wife's dick...? You're so beautifully pathetic like this, barely able to deal with me." Sevika didn't wait for you to beg, not this time, going back inside your heat while she made you suck one of her breasts, firm but soft, making you moan into her soft skin... The volume of her cock in your belly made her drool, the thought of filling you up, breeding you, claiming you so completely - it was almost too much to bear.

"Fuck, baby," she growled, her hips snapping up harder, deeper. "You want mommy's cum inside this tight little pussy? Want me to knock you up?"

Her thrusts became erratic, losing their rhythm as she chased her own release. She could feel it building, that familiar tightening in her balls, the heat coiling at the base of her spine.

With a final, powerful thrust, Sevika buried herself to the hilt inside you, grinding her pelvis against yours as she let out a guttural moan. Her cock twitched and pulsed as she emptied herself into your waiting womb, painting your insides with thick ropes of her hot seed. It felt like it went on forever, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over her until she was spent, collapsing back against the bed.

Sevika held you close, her softening cock still nestled deep inside you, as you both caught your breath. She could feel the sticky evidence of her release seeping out around her shaft — "Mmm, fuck," she murmured, nuzzling into your neck. "Never gonna let you go... Gonna keep this pussy full of my cum, make sure you're always heavy with my child."

She rolled her hips lazily, enjoying the feeling of your warmth surrounding her. Sevika had never felt so possessive... She felt satisfied but not complete yet.

"round two baby?"

★ ! yanderestarangel©

a/n: This is a repost! The first post has been taken down ( by tumblr itself lol); sorry and thanks for letting me know.

♡⁠┊tw: stalking, suggestive behavior, fingering, casual sex, v! sex, ftm reader, sex with a condom, afab anatomy, blowjob.

Each time he remembered what he had done—stalking you for weeks from the shadows like the nocturnal creature he was—a strange sense of shame settled in his chest. He used his shadowy vigilante persona to justify his unhealthy obsession, but even that excuse felt hollow.

He kept insisting to himself, "It's just for his safety." However, the heat in his groin wouldn't let him pretend otherwise — standing in the rain and cold nights by the window in the building above your house... But lying and manipulating to get into your life and home was not something he usually did.

That night, you'd gone out to the club. People were whispering about a new drug called "Bliss" and some underworld drama involving Sofia Falcone, while the red lights of the club mixed with your carefree expression, oblivious to Gotham's lurking dangers.

Wayne, however, was watching you as always—from afar, waiting for the right moment to act.

He wasn’t oblivious; his glances at a few attractive men at the party hadn’t escaped the dark gaze of the guard’s blue irises. He knew his obsession with you had gone too far, yet he ignored the rational alarms ringing in his mind—and started toward you.

It hadn’t been very difficult for him to get into his pants and into his home, and, to be honest, he didn’t know whether to feel angry or surprised. Perhaps it was a bittersweet mixture he’d reflect on only after leaving the apartment, since, after all, his blood wasn’t exactly rushing to his head.

You whispered a question, asking his name, but his hands were too focused on exploring your body.

"Bruce," he growled, finally breaking the silence. "My name is Bruce." The words came out more tense than he’d anticipated, and he silently prayed you wouldn’t ask anything else—or recognize him as one of Gotham’s elusive big shots.

Bruce’s fingers pressed deeper into your warm, slick heat, curling just right against that sensitive spot that made you see stars. He felt you tighten around him, your body responding to every stroke. With an added finger, he stretched you gently, preparing you for more. His thumb found your clit, drawing tight, deliberate circles as he drove you closer to the edge with relentless precision.

Bruce murmured, "So tight. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me," his voice thick with desire. His mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking hard, while his fingers continued their steady rhythm inside you. He felt the tremors in your body, heard your breathy moans, each sound and movement pushing you closer to the edge.

"Come for me," he demanded, his teeth grazing your flesh. "Come on my fingers like a good boy."

And you did, your walls clenching around him as you cried out in pleasure. Bruce guided you through it, prolonging your orgasm and drawing every last drop of ecstasy from your quivering form.

When you finally collapsed back onto the bed, spent and panting, Wayne withdrew his fingers and brought them to his lips. He licked them clean, savoring your taste and scent. It was so sweet and erotic that he felt his cock throb, and all the rationality and chivalry that defined his persona went out the window.

Quickly, the rest of your clothes were removed, and the man with black eye shadow sat on your bed, spreading his thighs and inviting you to suck his cock — a command you immediately obeyed. The sight of you on your knees, your plump lips stretched around his shaft, was almost too much for him.

He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your head as you moved up and down, taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, his hips rocking forward to meet your eager tongue. "Just like that, atta boy... Take it all."

He could feel you gagging around him, could hear the wet, obscene sounds of your slurping and sucking. It was music to his ears—a symphony of pleasure that nearly undid him. His other hand found your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as he pulled you closer, pressing his cock deeper down your throat. He could feel you struggling to breathe, could see the tears streaming down your cheeks, but he didn't relent.

"Look at me... I want to see your eyes when you choke on my cock."

He commanded, holding your gaze as you struggled to comply, your eyes watering as you fought for air. But you didn’t pull away or tap out; instead, you leaned in, taking him even deeper until your nose pressed against his pelvis. He was so close to climax, but he held back, wanting to savor this intense connection, feeling your body fully aligned with his.

"No fuck... not yet..." He grunted hoarsely taking his mouth off his cock as he shook trying to hold back his orgasm. "On your hands and knees, now." He ran his hands over your smooth skin, caressing your curves, your softness, a stark contrast to his own hard planes. He was prepared that night, carrying a condom in his jacket pocket, even though he thought the chances of him touching you were zero... Well, apparently not. He positioned himself behind you, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance.

With a slow thrust, he pushed forward, breaking your tight heat. He groaned at the sensation, at the way your walls clenched around him, trying to draw him deeper. He watched his cock disappear inside you, your tight heat enveloping him completely. He could feel every twitch, every pulse of your walls around him, could see the way your body yielded to his, taking him deeper and deeper.

But despite the overwhelming sensations, he remained silent, unsure of how to express the depth of his desire, the intensity of his need. He'd never been good with words, had always been better with actions, with his fists, with his body. You tried to talk to him, however Bruce's hand came down hard on your ass, the sharp sting of the slap echoing in the room. He watched as you jolted forward, your back arching, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Shh... Don't talk. Just feel." He punctuated his command with another slap, his fingers digging into the reddening flesh of your ass, holding you in place as he drove into you with renewed vigor. Wayne watched as you came undone beneath him, your body shaking, your walls clenching around his cock. He could feel your release coating his shaft, could hear your sweet whimpers filling the room.

And then he was coming too, his orgasm ripping through him like a tidal wave. He buried himself deep inside you, his hips grinding against your ass as he filled the condom with his seed. He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath hot against your neck. For a long moment, he simply held you, savoring the feeling of your body against his, the warmth of your skin, the racing of your heart.

He wasn't used to this, to the intimacy, to the vulnerability. He was better at fighting, at brooding, at being alone... Stalking you was a different thing than finally having you, and he felt no shame in having lied. So he pulled out of you, quickly disposing of the condom before rolling off the bed. He stood there for a moment, his back to you, his hands clenched at his sides.

"I...I should go," he mumbled, not quite meeting your eyes. "I have work to do... It was cool..."

He grabbed his clothes, dressing quickly, efficiently. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to bridge the gap between what had just happened and what came next... He was used to being your stalker, but now his brain couldn't function after finally getting what he wanted: you.

But he was sure of something, the feeling became more fixed in his chest... He was more addicted in you.

★ ! yanderestarangel©

𝗕𝗢𝗡𝗨𝗦: THIS LINE...

HEADCANONS BO6 – FELIX NEUMANN, TROY MARSHALL, ADLER RUSSELL

♡⁠┊TW: face sitting, eat out, rough sex, penetration, blowjobs, afab reader, praise kink unstable relationship, degradation, fingering, 69, spoilers, porn plot, etc.

♡⁠ 𝒇𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒙 𝒏𝒆𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒏 ♡⁠

This man really has two sides, firstly he will obviously try to be a gentleman and treat you like royalty or as if he is afraid to touch you and break you in some way. The first few times you two have sex are really focused on Felix making you cum first, often he'll just eat you out or make you sit on his face while he uses his fingers to play with your clit, showering you with compliments and often a few words coming out in German because he's too excited to formulate a sentence in English.

He'll make you cum so hard you won't even be able to stand up from all the shaking – Neumann is the kind of man who will go to great lengths to make you squirt and leave you relaxed enough to stop thinking about your problems, especially if the two of you are on a mission together.

He likes to tell you how beautiful and radiant you are with every move you make in bed, his hands will grip your waist while his blue eyes stare at your breasts that swing with every deep thrust of his cock into your cunt. "Fuck... Those are the most beautiful tits I've ever seen, schatz..." the older blond would praise you while making you tremble with his touch, the combination of his cock penetrating you with his fingers on your clit was enough to make you cum before him, and then he would be able to cum without the weight of the conscience of "using" you.

However, he has a very dominant side and when he is stressed and loses control, he cannot maintain his pacifist and oakish appearance, making you even surprised by the change of personality he can have.

The German will fuck you and maneuver you like a rag doll around the room, changing positions every time you are going to cum just to take his cock out and hold your face, staring into your eyes. "Haven't you heard yet, you little whore? You're only going to cum when I tell you to."

He will bite you, mark you, cum on your face and will act like everything but the gentleman he is when he is in his normal state. He would growl, his hips snapping forward, fucking you harder and harder. His cock would be throbbing inside you, his balls slapping against your ass with each stroke. He then leaned forward, his teeth sinking into his shoulder, biting down hard enough to leave a mark.

"Holy Fuck... I'm gonna fill this tight little pussy with my cum... Gonna breed you like the little whore you are..." He then pulled out, his cock throbbing in his hand as he stroked, aiming for your pussy. He then came, his hot cum shooting out of his cock and landing on your pussy, coating your folds and clit with his thick seed.

"Mmm... That's it... Take my cum inside you... Let it fill you up..." He would purr, his fingers continuing to push his cum deeper into your pussy, making sure you were well filled with his seed.

However, after the moment of excitement and lust has passed, he will make sure you are okay and apologize if he was too rough, cleaning you up and kissing every mark he made – hugging you softly while wiping his cum off you with a wet tissue. "Rest, süsser... When you wake up I'll cook your favorite dish ok?"

♡⁠ 𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒚 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒔𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒍 ♡⁠

Troy is initially much more distant and casual, putting up a barrier between the two of you because of his trauma with Jane and the lack of trust he has begun to feel toward others. He may be less vocal and simply enjoy your moans; small compliments may come from him occasionally, but nothing too affectionate if the two of you are nothing more than casual partners.

One of the most frequent things he'd say at first, and the closest he’d come to real affection, would be, "Fuck, babe, you're squeezing my dick so hard..." Marshall will only start showing you extra affection once you prove yourself trustworthy and demonstrate that you care about his feelings.

He enjoys doing 69 with you, but you’ll only reach that level of intimacy after earning it; before, he’d insisted that oral sex was too intimate for just 'friends with benefits.'

Troy’s mustache tickles a little, creating a unique friction against you, but he’ll make sure you get used to it and not think about it too much – especially since the combination of his tongue on your clit and you choking on his dick is enough to make your mind go blank. He'll still be dominant, but not like before. He’ll make you take your time, not rushing you or forcing his cock down your throat, and he’ll start to open up more to compliments.

"You're doing great, baby... You're fucking beautiful. Just take your time, okay?" Marshall would say calmly as he slid two fingers inside you, his tongue working in tandem to bring you to orgasm. This marked an evolution from the first meaningless encounters you had; it was no longer just a transition but a real feeling of making each other feel good.

He'll make you ride his cock after the second time he sees you cum on his fingers. You'll be sensitive enough for him to feel your walls squeezing him tightly, as if milking him was the only thing you knew how to do.

The previously degrading nicknames are now replaced by a mix of soft compliments. "That's it, little whore... You look so beautiful with my cock in that gorgeous pussy of yours. Do you hear that sound?" the taller man groans, holding your neck gently while thrusting faster, making your legs tremble. His other hand grips your waist, keeping you from falling, even though you barely feel your toes touching the wooden floor anymore.

"Hear that? You're dripping—uh, fuck, hot as fuck." He growls softly, giving your ass a slap before pulling his cock out of your wet heat and giving gentle taps on the outside of your pussy, prolonging your orgasm even more. He kisses you softly on the cheek, smiling smugly into your neck, though there’s a hint of affection there. "So desperate to cum, sweetheart? Use your words, and maybe I'll let you."

After finishing inside you, he cleans you up and offers one of his shirts to cover yourself. It’s rare, but sometimes he likes to share his bed with you. "Lie here; don’t worry, I'll be here when you wake up."

♡⁠ 𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒓𝒖𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒍 ♡⁠

This old mf disappeared and came back into your arms as if nothing had happened, but he's so homesick and stressed that your reunion will be him burying himself as deep as he can inside you.

After some arguing and him trying to apologize, he decides the best way to make it up to you is by fucking the frustration out of both of you. He drags you to an empty spot in the tower, far enough that Woods won’t have his afternoon nap interrupted by your moans. You try to resist, still upset about his sudden disappearance, but honestly, he loves it when you get feisty, when you try to push him away. It only makes him want you more.

"Shut up and take it, angel face." Russell growls in your ear as he sits you on his lap, pulling down your pants and spreading your thighs wide. He slips two fingers into your mouth for you to suck, then pulls them out and slides them into your pussy without warning. You feel filled by his thick digits—a bold move that makes you whimper—but he finally manages to make you stay quiet. "Oh fuck... You want me to stay right here, between these pretty legs, fucking this sweet pussy until you're a sobbing, shaking mess... Don't you?"

He makes you stand up just to have the pleasure of pressing you roughly against the wall, forcing you to stick your ass up for him. He spanks your sensitive flesh, watching you tremble and wet his fingers even more, like a bitch in heat. He bites your neck, leaving hickeys on your skin. "You missed this as much as I did... I know you did. Fuck, you're such a whore, aren't you? I don’t know how I had the courage to let you loose without my eyes on you all this time."

"One more, baby. Give me one more orgasm before I fuck this tight little cunt with my cock." His fingers never stopping their relentless assault on your pussy. He could feel you getting close again, your walls fluttering around his fingers, your juices dripping down his hand; When you finally came, he’d give you another slap, and before your knees could go weak, the older man quickly removed his pants, exposing his cock leaking pre-cum.

He easily lifts you, placing you in a full nelson position, with your back pressed against his chest and your legs wrapped around his waist. The head of his cock teases your entrance, and with one quick thrust, he buries himself inside you, stretching and filling you completely. "I found my paradise in the infernal heat of your beautiful pussy..."

He wouldn't stop until he made you squirt and be soft from cumming so much, he knew he had messed up with you but he couldn't deny the satisfaction of seeing you trembling and not even being able to formulate a complete sentence because his cock was kissing your cervix with each thrust.

Adler would groan hoarsely, kissing your face as his hips snapped forward, fucking you harder and harder. He could feel his balls slapping against your clit with each thrust, increasing the pleasure coursing through your body.

"You don't look so tough now, huh? Are you sure you don't want to forgive me?" He fucked you even harder, making you feel that warm sensation in your stomach as he finally made you cum all over his cock—and cum inside your cunt, too. He kept his cock buried inside you until it softened and came out on its own, making you drip his cum onto the floor. The older man would sit you down on the couch and lower himself onto your thighs, looking at your spent pussy. "We're not done yet. I'll only stop fucking you when you forget how much I hurt you, no matter how long that takes."

And well... it would be long hours.

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while i gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cow girl, doggy, backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling. teeth jitterbug, mind boggling, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy, moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, beastly, lip bitting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, splendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tangos, he could put a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride.

Yes. I like him.

Bonus: His grunts

("But Lorenzo he was almost dying-" I know but PLEASE HEAR ME OUT!?)

♡⁠┊TW — afab reader, no pronouns mentioned, smut.

A = Aftercare (what he’s like after sex)

Bi Han likes to check if you're okay and gives you soft kisses on your face. He asks if he was too rough or hurt you at any point, especially when the two of you are having rough sex instead of making love.

He always keeps wet wipes on the nightstand next to your bed, cleaning any mess off your skin. If you're up for a full shower, he won't complain, keeping you company and washing your body, then tucking you into bed and cuddling you. He waits for you to fall asleep first, and once he's sure you're finally asleep, only then can he rest.

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

His favorite body parts are his hands and arms. He works hard on them and always makes sure they’re strong enough to carry you wherever he wants. On your body, his favorite parts are your eyes and mouth.

He loves making eye contact and focuses on your lips constantly, especially during sex. He adores watching the glow in your eyes when he slides his cock into your pussy and how your mouth forms an 'O' with sweet moans each time he thrusts faster.

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

Bi Han is versatile in this aspect, but it depends on how the two of you feel that day.

For him, everything is about connection. If you're both having rough, aggressive sex, he'll want to cum on your face or stomach, spreading his cum over every inch of your soft skin, even taking some to your breasts and rubbing his seed into your nipples. Or he might cum inside you and stay inside until his cock softens enough to feel his cum dripping out, only to then use his fingers to push it back in.

If it's more gentle, passionate sex, he'll use a condom to avoid making a mess inside you.

D = Dirty secret (a dirty secret of his)

He secretly wants you to take full control of him at least once—specifically with bondage. The grandmaster would never admit it aloud, but the thought of you tying him up with red Shibari ropes, his wrists bound behind his back, while you use his cock as your personal dildo gives him shivers. However, he'd never have the courage to suggest it himself—it would have to come from you.

He also has a secret fascination with anal sex. He'd love to see you wearing a plug for him and fuck both your ass and pussy at the same time. But he'll never bring it up if he senses you're uncomfortable with the idea.

E = Experience (how experienced is he? does he know what he’s doing?)

Bi Han has had a few partners in the past, but nothing serious until he met you. He knows exactly where to touch to make you feel good but makes sure to learn more about what you like while teaching you what he enjoys as well.

F = Favorite position

Face-off. He loves the feeling of placing his hands on your waist, letting you ride his cock while burying his head in your breasts (if you have them) or neck. Or he just enjoys watching each of your reactions, feeling more connected with you.

Doggy style. He loves seeing your ass while your pussy swallows his cock. He’ll place his hands on your waist, hypnotized by how your body seems made for him. Sometimes he’ll let his cock slip out on purpose just to spank you and thrust it back in again, enchanted by how angelic you look in that position.

Missionary. A classic but incredibly arousing for him. Seeing your body beneath him, completely at his mercy, makes his cock throb so much he has to hold back from cumming when you look at him with tears of pleasure as he ravishes you. He loves grabbing your waist and burying his cock deep inside you while his mouth finds yours, swallowing your moans.

G = Goofy (is he more serious or humorous during the moment?)

He tends to be very serious, treating sex almost like a sacred ritual. But if he notices you're too tense, he might try to make you smile a bit. He’ll always try to make you feel comfortable, and if that means loosening his cold exterior a little, he definitely will.

H = Hair (how well groomed is he? does the carpet match the drapes?)

He has a light happy trail. He’s not a fan of shaving everything off but trims a bit to keep it from getting too long.

Bi Han will only fully shave if it bothers you, otherwise, he prefers staying natural.

I = Intimacy (how is he during the moment? the romantic aspect)

When you two make love, he loves to affirm how much he loves you and how lucky he is to have you all to himself. He loves kissing every inch of your body, making you look into his eyes as he whispers between moans that you are the love of his life. He treats you like a deity, his voice thick with possessive words mixed with his growls, holding your face firmly: "You're all mine, and I will always love you." It’s a mantra during your sex, as he’s afraid you might forget that you are the one who makes him better each day.

However, when you two are fucking like animals in heat, he treats you like a dirty slut, degrading you for being so wet for him, making you look down to see his cock going in and out, shining with your slickness. He might slap your face lightly, making you cum multiple times until you're broken, only able to moan his name.

But don’t worry—he’ll take care of you afterward<3

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn't masturbate often since he has you, preferring to wait for you both to give each other pleasure. However, when he's away on a mission, he'll look at some pictures of you and get hard—ending with both of you sexting. He likes masturbating only when you're involved, whether in person or not.

K = Kink

Foreplay, Breeding, Body Worship (mainly on you), Face-sitting/Eating out, Slow sex, BDSM, Daddy kink (secretly), Praise kink (he loves praising you), Degradation, Sleepy sex.

L = Location (favorite places to do the deed)

Bedroom. Bi Han loves the intimacy of having you in bed with no eyes watching what you both do. He enjoys being his true self and feeling deeply connected with you—sex is very intimate and a proof of love for him, so he prefers to keep it within four walls.

Central courtyard. His home is a classic "siheyuan" ( heritage passed down from generation to generation Lin Kuei ) with a large central courtyard where you two—although rarely—can enjoy some morning sunlight together and have a bit of outdoor fun without anyone peeking, thanks to the high walls and closed gates. He’ll enjoy the morning sun on his day off and pull you outside to have sex.

M = Motivation (what turns him on, gets him going)

Anything you do. Literally anything. Bi Han craves touch, though he’d hate to admit it to himself. Even your most innocent smile can turn him on without him realizing it. He doesn't overthink it; he just feels the pulsing of his cock and the need to make you feel loved by him in every way.

N = No (something he wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Pegging, ménage à trois, scat, and piss kink.

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

Contrary to what most might think, he enjoys giving you oral. He loves when you sit on his face, rubbing your beautiful pussy against his mouth and face—it makes him want to die between your thighs, and he’d be a happy man if that were his fate.

It was a bit strange the first time he ate you out, as his tongue was slightly cold—not too much, but enough for you to feel it. But over time, you got used to it. The cryomancer is very skilled with his tongue, knowing how to circle your clit or encouraging you to grind on his face for your own pleasure.

Sometimes, though, he wants to receive oral from you, especially when he's too tired to be more active. A blowjob before bed makes him see stars.

P = Pace (is he fast and rough? slow and sensual?)

As mentioned before, it depends on the mood between you two. Normally, he’s slower, wanting to feel your every inch down to the last cell, wanting you to feel him pulsing and thrusting into your very core.

But when he’s fucking you, he thrusts hard enough for you to feel sore afterward.

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

Bi Han wakes up very early for the clan and sometimes doesn’t sleep at all due to work, so you both find alternatives to stay close to each other. Quickies are one of the main ways.

If you can wake up as early as he does and you're in the mood, you have extra time for a sleepy quickie. Or it could happen post-work when he’s tired and needs relief after a long day, leading you to the bathroom for a quickie before resting.

R = Risk (is he game to experiment? does he take risks?)

He doesn’t like taking too many risks, but you can try to convince him to have sex in a semi-public place, like an isolated forest or some other location where there’s no 99% chance of getting caught. He might give in if you insist enough.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can he go for? how long does he last?)

It depends. When he's really tired, he'll only manage one round before collapsing into bed. But if he's well-rested and in his prime, he can go for 9 rounds straight without a break.

T = Toys (does he own toys? does he use them? on a partner or himself?)

He doesn't use sex toys on himself, but if you have them, he's not against it.

Anything that brings you pleasure is welcome and will be used.

If you have a vibrator, he'll use it on your clitoris while fucking your pussy.

If you have a dildo, he'll use it in your other hole to give you double penetration.

He can also use both to make you come faster, plus use his cock to fuck you.

U = Unfair (how much does he like to tease?)

He won't tease you first unless you make the first move. If he's in the mood, he'll play along with your game. His teasing is more verbal, whispering dirty things in your ear and telling you how he's going to fuck you when you get home, giving you discreet kisses on your neck and shoulders.

If he's in a grumpy mood, he might just give you a serious look and murmur, "This is neither the time nor the place," especially if he's busy with his duties as grandmaster.

V = Volume (how loud is he? what sounds does he make?)

He's not one to moan loudly, just enough for you to hear. He likes to groan in your ear, and his rough voice often carries low growls through gritted teeth — but he makes it clear he's enjoying himself and that you're making him feel good. He tends to keep the same pattern of groans and growls as he's close to coming, letting out a few "fucks" and warning you he's about to come, asking you to come with him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon)

He loves seeing you in thigh-high(7/8) socks — especially the white and blue striped ones.

He doesn't know why, but he enjoys fucking you while you're wearing them. The sight of the socks squeezing your soft thighs while he fucks you drives him wild. He'll even pull out of your pussy just to rub his cock between the soft flesh of your thighs, coming on your stomach after a few thrusts.

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

He has a 6.3-inch dick, with a thick girth. Two veins stand out on the shaft — one starts at his groin and runs down, slightly thinner, and the second vein visibly pulses when his hard dick curves to the side. It's a shade darker than his skin, about a tone down, light brown, with a circular tip that's a bit darker and reddish, slightly curving to the left.

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

Due to his work and stress, he can't always fully express this feeling, often being too tired.

And yet, he has a high libido when it comes to sex with you. Just wait for him to be rested and free from his grandmaster duties, and he won’t let you out of bed for hours.

Z = Zzz (how quickly does he fall asleep afterward?)

He checks if you're okay first, no matter how tired he is. He’ll hug you and only fall asleep after making sure you're completely settled and asleep.

i just wanted to say that i absolutely love your content and i look forward to seeing more work from you !! i found you through j.ai and while doing some fanfic hunts and omg i love both

okay thank youuuu ✨✨

Hi my angel! First of all, I'm glad you like my work. It means a lot to me to have people who like what I write or produce. This motivates me to write more and be more active here and on j.ai too, xoxo <3