#➸ ; AND SO HE SURRENDERED (drabbles)

[strawberrymochin]

Sanemi shinazugawa ⌦ .｡.:*♡

NSFW audio | mdni | when he lets you ride him | cock riding, edging, belly bulge, sanemi in heat, dirty talk, over stimulation(??) | use headphones darling!!

Sanemi's panting, drunk from the pleasure as you raise your hips letting free his half of the shaft, tip still buried inside you.

He'd shivers running down his spine at the cold sensation, nails digging down your flesh pushing you down, till your warmth shields him again.

If he had known letting you ride him, while he did nothing but watch your eyes roll back at each thrust; watch you pathetically whimpering his name as he slides one big palm to press on the bulge on your stomach feeling himself inside you; watch your legs give up, as your rhythm fall apart, eyes begging him to take lead, would have this effect on him, he would have done it so early.

“yeah? Tired already?” you could only manage a whimper against his neck prepping kisses along his collarbone.

“beg for it sweetheart and I will let you cum.”

He's such a menace, he will rub on the bulge making sure your g-spot brushes with his shaft, everytime, edging you till the words, he wanted to hear leaves your mouth.

You almost jump from the sudden contact of his rough calloused fingers on your sensitive clit, when he presses you down on his cock with his other hand, to prevent it slipping out from you, carefull not to let his previous slick leak out of you. That's too precious to waste.

“daddy will take things further 'kay. J-just surrender yourself to me hmm!”

a/n- my other demon slayer works-: a letter.....long lost!, behind the red curtains, isekai drabble, noisy | comments and reblogs are highly appreciated 🎀

© strawberrymochin 24 | plagiarism won't be tolerated

[gloomwitchwrites]

What If 141... "tell me you need me" and/or " I don't want you to stop"

Okay. Okay okay okay okay. When I first read this prompt, I genuinely thought I would write something really sweet and soft. But I also have free will. I am an independent individual. I make the choices here. Are they sweet? Yes. Are they soft? A bit. Is this mostly spice? Yes. Yes it is. I will not ask forgiveness.

Presented in four double drabbles.

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, non-descriptive sex, praise, fluff, established relationship, suggestive themes

Word Count: 800

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

“Say it, love. I want to hear you say it.”

Everything in you is buzzing. It is loud, as if a hive of bees dwells beneath your skin. Each touch John gives you is electric. A zing of pleasure that rockets outward until the tips of your fingers and toes tingle.

“You don’t play fair,” you whine, sinking against him, surrendering to his touch.

“Never do,” he murmurs, nipping at your earlobe.

You reach up to touch him, to hook your arm around the back of his neck. You need to anchor yourself before you fall over the edge. His fingers are expert things, moving in little circles between your legs. It is agony. And so very sweet.

John seizes your wrist. Brings your arm back to your side.

“No,” he says. “You can’t have that yet.”

“Why not?”

John’s lips brush against your throat. “Tell me you need me. Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” He lightly bites. “Promise.”

You swallow hard. The words are forming, but they are only air. Slipping away with each stroke of his fingers.

John pauses. And that sets you off instantly.

“I need you, John,” you gasp.

“That’s my girl.”

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle’s fingers thread lightly through your hair. It’s a gentle touch. One that sends a shiver through you.

Your hands roam, touching everywhere. There is skin beneath your fingers. It is taut, slick with water from the shower. Kyle is warm too like a good blanket. You could wrap yourself up in him.

Kyle returns to your hair, working in the shampoo. You close your eyes and sink into the feeling. He has one arm around your waist as if you’ll run off.

“Don’t stop,” you moan. “That feels good.”

Kyle’s soft laugh comes from behind you, and then he guides you under the spray, washing away the shampoo.

“Need to get the rest of you,” he purrs, those strong hands of his grasping your waist, spinning you around to face him. “Where should I start first?”

He traces one finger along your jaw and down the side of your throat only to descend to collarbone and the curve of your breast. He goes lower. Lower still.

You grasp his wrist, arching into his touch.

“Here?” he asks with a smug smile.

You’re needy. And his hand between your legs is bliss.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you reply.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“Oh. Fu—fuck, love. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Johnny groans loudly above you, his head tilted back in ecstasy. Behind you, the television is on but the sound is muted. It bathes the bedroom in a blueish glow. Johnny isn’t paying attention, and you’re not either.

You are settled between his legs, your mouth full of him.

This is a craving. A vice. Johnny is always the one giving. He loves to do it. Loves to shower you with affection and as much pleasure as you can handle. But you have the control now. You’re the one making him squirm. Making him writhe and whimper.

It’s lovely this feeling. The power is perfect.

No wonder Johnny loves doing this so much.

He groans again, the arm next to his side, fist clenched. His other hand rises, and tentatively brushes against your scalp. Johnny’s eyes are closed. You’re not sure if he even knows what he’s doing.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he says, almost absently, as if speaking to the air.

You continue. Tasting.

His hand against your scalp strengthens, fingers tangling in your hair. His grip is fierce.

“Don’t stop,” he repeats. “Don’t want you to stop.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

“That’s not what you say. You know this, love.”

Simon grasps your chin between thumb and forefinger. He squeezes slightly, tipping upward. You are unable to look away. Unable to move. Those dark eyes with pale eyelashes drive a spear through your heart every time.

It’s maddening.

You lick your lips and Simon follows the movement. He examines your mouth, and then his thumb brushes against the underside of your bottom lip. It sends a little shiver through you. Simon is powerful. Strong. He could easily break you, and yet he can be so gentle.

“I’m not gonna ask again.” Simon draws you closer and leans forward as if to kiss you. He doesn’t though, simply holds there, awaiting an answer.

He won’t give you what you’re seeking just yet. Not until you say the magic words.

“Tell me you need me,” he murmurs.

That is all Simon wants. To be desired. To be needed. He loves to hear it from your lips, especially like now when the two of you are tangled in each other. Other times, it’s simple things like reaching something on the top shelf.

And you will tell him.

You always do.

“I need you, Simon.”

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[ssahotchnerr]

What if a drabble about this https://twitter.com/bxnksi_/status/1754954693329998141?t=QfzPSplktYI04Owlt-gzSg&s=19 I just know hotch's gonna be taking that kiss IMMEDIATELY like no thoughts. He'll be like, "screw my point and kiss me".

priorities

this cw; bau!reader, established relationship, kissing, light suggestion, brief arguing into fluff, 6x22 references - this relates to aaron coaching jack's soccer team <3

the team's prying eyes couldn't help but be directed upwards as they attempted to work, due to the visual of you and aaron going at it through his office window. your hurried and raising voice also drifted out his slightly ajar door from time to time.

"it's not fair to you aaron." you insisted, mentally urging him to stop being so stubborn and understand your point. "i get that they need a coach, and it's wonderful they thought of you, but you're too preoccupied."

aaron scoffed lightly, crossing his arms as he leaned back against his desk, "preoccupied?"

you gave him a look - c'mon. it was a rather accusatory word, you'd admit it, but he knew what you meant. "the league should be resolving their own problems."

"isn't them asking an attempt to do so?"

"but it's not your problem, or is it your responsibility to accept. i know you feel obligated to and," you reached out to touch his arm affectionately, reminding him you were on his side. "it's so sweet of you to jump at it. but please think about it realistically."

aaron exhaled a breath of his own, turning his eyes away from yours in a subtle eye roll.

"aaron," you gaped at him, your frustration quickly turning into annoyance. "you're in the fbi. you're a unit chief, for god's sake. don't you think they should ask someone who's not on such a strict, unpredictable schedule? what happens when you can't make it to a practice? to a game?"

as you fired off all the reasonings, even throwing in the example that jessica did swing by once to pick up jack upon getting a call for a case - aaron fell quiet, knowing you were right.

he felt obligated; being unreservedly himself, he wanted to be the one to step up and take the initiative. jack's soccer team deserved someone willing and wanting to provide their undivided attention as coach, given majority of the parents were more preoccupied by their phones than watching their own kid. focus - he could provide such.

another convincing factor, being coach would provide him more time with jack. these days, the fact jack was growing up, rapidly, was slowly sinking in. before he knew it, aaron would blink and jack would prefer to do anything else than to hang around his father.

but again, from a realistic standpoint, you were right. trying to navigate a soccer team with his crazy schedule would be extremely difficult; the potential aspect of not being around, and then potentially not being able to find reliable cover - an inevitable, ongoing complication, despite how badly he wished he could manage it.

aaron hadn't meant for this to turn into a disagreement either. to be fair, he had just returned from a meeting with strauss, which always amp'ed up his disposition in one way or another.

but now you were getting heated, and as you thoroughly stated your case, aaron's eyes involuntarily kept flicking down to your lips. the more he attempted to avert his eyes away, they only lingered more.

and not wanting to argue further, he quickly surrendered to his own argument, the only thought beginning to maintain importance was how badly he wanted - no, needed - to kiss you.

"go ahead, say it."

your remark regained his attention, "say what?"

"i know that look, so go ahead." you crossed your arms, huffing a frustrated breath of air out of your nose. you had mistaken his lack of focus for another impending, contrasting detail of his, "say it."

"kiss me."

your expression changed at once; irritation shifting to a softened confusion. "what?"

"what? do you want me to beg?" aaron tossed out, a glint surfacing in his eyes and warming you from the middle out, "fine, you're right, forget about it. now kiss me."

you opened your mouth to respond, but aaron took that as an opportunity to weave his fingers through the belt loops of your pants, pulling you strictly against him and pressing his lips to yours.

once your initial surprise wore off, and focusing on how soft aaron's lips felt on yours, you kissed him in return with just an equal amount of gentle vigor.

you pulled away, your mind attempting to resist his everlasting temptation, bringing your index finger to his chest. "this isn't resolvin-"

but aaron chased your lips, immediately pressing his back to yours and stopping you mid-sentence. you reciprocated eagerly, sighing softly against his lips in content as your fingers found hold on the sides of his suit jacket.

"you're absolutely ridiculous." you laughed against his lips, providing one more chaste kiss before successfully pulling away, your cheeks flushed.

"am i?" he quipped back, rather playfully as his eyebrows rose, a cheeky expression plastered on his face - one of which only made you want to kiss him wildly.

"yeah, you are." you bantered back, exhaling to ease yourself back to the real world, which aaron also assisted in with his next statement, dropping the matter yet again.

"i'm still expecting your supplementary report on the houston case by the end of the day." he said, his hand sliding down your back and patting your ass, playfully urging you to get a move on. "get back to work."

you nearly released an audible groan but instead rolled your eyes, bringing yourself to peck aaron's lips once more. on your way out, you tossed over your shoulder. "this discussion isn't over, you know."

due to your restrained line of vision, you missed the small smirk of his lips. "and if it ends similarly, i'll be looking forward to it."

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

V ║Raw Edge

Joel Miller x F!Reader

{ Part IV: Notch | Behind the Seams: Part V | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E, a proper E!

Summary: One lazy afternoon, Joel tests your patience.

Warnings: Sexual tension, some language, gratuitous descriptions of the male body, flirting, fingering, explicit grinding, shy!reader, reader has a nickname related to her job, soft!domestic!Joel, no use of Y/N

Word count: 2k

Notes: It's been a long and winding road y'all, but I'm finally back with an update on the main series. It is a short one, more of an interlude, but it will get us where we need to go for the next chapter. Thank you for your patience, I don't take you guys' understanding and love for granted for even a second. Releasing this during the Seams sleepover, more drabbles coming your way for the remaining month of March!

Raw edge - the raw, raveling, and unfinished, cut edge of the fabric.

It’s fitting that Joel is a patient man. He’s built for it, after all.

Those broad shoulders, the sturdy thighs, his sure hands - he’s steadfast as the mountains that loom over Jackson.

As the sun shifts over the ridges and valleys of the sierra through the seasons, bringing shadows into light, so does Jackson on Joel, and you learn that he’s many kinds of patient.

On lookout duty, even in the depths of winter, he becomes one with the stillness of the night, patiently watching over the safety of the town in the loneliest hours.

When townsfolk stop him on the high street for neighbourly chit chat, he obliges with polite patience, never rushing, but careful not to encourage conversation that is longer than necessary.

With Ellie, when she prattles on with a long-winded story from school, he listens with amused patience, letting her run her half-full mouth over dinner with half-hearted admonishment.

And with you - he is agonisingly patient with you, and yet, never in a way that leaves any doubt of his want for you.

You cannot be more grateful.

And in turn, you’re patient with him. As the green of summer softens with the tail end of the season, you pick up bits and pieces. You hear whispers of names. Tess. Bill. You glimpse ghosts of his past. Sarah. Frank.

You don’t expect him to, but you have the audacity to hope, that one day, if he finds it in him to let you in, you have shoulders to spare.

When the heat fades and the brisk autumnal chill starts to linger in the morning mist, you start to find that you like it when he’s not patient.

Not necessarily for the lack of patience thereof, but the fact that it’s worn thin by something else.

The way heat bleeds into his eyes when Lucy holds you up after your shift ends, fingers twitching, as if the caveman in him wants to grab you and drag you home, where you have planned on dinner - and more.

When you’re two bodies tangled in your sheets, breath short as he kisses his way down your neck and nips the underside of your breasts, bra cups pushed up only halfway because you’re still too shy to take it off completely. You feel him shudder, nails digging into your skin, nostrils flaring like he’s holding back from ripping the scant fabric off of you.

And late one evening, when you ask him for it, in heated whispers and your lower lip caught in your teeth, he oh so patiently works his fingers inside your wet heat - 

One, then two; 

Slow, then fast; 

Tender, then frantic - 

Until he feels you clench tight around the crook of his fingers for the first time, watch you arch clean off the bed, he bares his teeth and lets out a primal growl at the cry of his name on your swollen lips.

You find the thrill in getting under Joel Miller’s skin.

As the fall deepens, and trees start to shed in golden surrender, you’re caught off guard when he turns the table on you.

You don’t see it coming, your desperation, that lazy afternoon. It’s just another Saturday when Ellie is on her shift at the Outfitter with Lucy, and Joel is spending those free hours with you.

You’re not sure what got him into the mood, but the man is relentlessly teasing that afternoon, almost bratty in the way he toys with you. His hands go everywhere while you’re cooking, squeezing the swell of your ass then going north to cup your breasts, and stopping off everywhere in between.

Tips of your ears burning, you smack the back of his hands - so big and mapped with veins - just so you can get drain the pasta. Joel chuckles and kisses the corner of your mouth. ‘I like it when you’re bossy, sweetheart.’

He insists on eating on the sofa, with you between his legs, and you can feel him already hard and straining through his jeans. Neither of you really make a real go at the rapidly cooling marinara, and the plates are quickly pushed to the side as them meal degenerates into a full-blown make out session.

Not yet ready to let him strip you bare or for him to disrobe him completely, clothes hang half unbuttoned and unzipped on you both. The part of your brain that still has enough blood to reason likes it though - the demure flashes of skin under creased fabric, blindly touching and feeling where you can’t see.

Your jeans are pushed halfway down your thighs, bra pushed down under your breasts, the elastic straps digging into your shoulders. His shirt is open down to the second last button, bare chest rubbing against your nipples, the contact making you whine. His belt hangs open and his jeans are unzipped, but before you can reach down, his fingers slide inside your panties, twisted and sticky, teasing your wet folds. 

‘Joel,’ you whimper as he pushes two thick fingers inside you to the knuckle, your pussy slickly opening around him. 

‘Does that feel good, sweetheart?’ he asks, mouthing at your collarbone.

‘More,’ you gasp.

‘I got two in you already -’

Your voice cracks in a sob, your nails digging into his back. ‘Joel, I want more. Please.’

He glances at the clock ticking away on the wall and hesitates. The rational part of him knows that he has to leave in less than twenty minutes to pick up Ellie. But feeling you leak onto his fingers, pushing your hips against him to get his fingers even deeper, his cock twitches painfully hard in his pants.

He breathes through his nose to steady himself. ‘Sweetheart, we don’t have time -‘

‘Joel!’ you whine, almost petulantly.

He stares down at you, eyes wide at your desperation. He’s never seen you like this before, and fuck, he wants to give it to you. Wants to give you what you want, what he wants. What he’s wanted for long fucking months, woken up hard and throbbing dreaming about. But he steels himself - no, not when he’s on the clock, he won’t rush it. He will give you what you deserve, and not an ounce less. 

So he kisses you, long and deep, and bargains with you. ‘Listen, sweetheart, we can’t right now - but if you want to, we can try something new.’

‘Ok,’ you reply without hesitation.

A sharp breath catches in your throat when he eases his fingers out of you, and he brings them up to his mouth to lick them clean, his brow furrowing at your taste, thick on his tongue. Then you watch, transfixed, as he pushes his unzipped jeans down with his boxers, kicking them off his ankles - and his hard cock springs free of its confines. 

It’s taken you many months to drum up the bravery to map his body with your touch, and you’ve mostly done so in the safety of darkness, your shyness holding you back. To see all of him, jutting hard and thick in the stark afternoon light, you don’t even hear yourself whimper at the sight.

Joel holds your gaze as he slowly wraps his fingers around the swollen length and strokes himself, lips parted, watching you watch him. ‘You trust me, sweetheart?’

‘Yes.’

‘Gonna make you feel good, ok?’

His words make you squirm beneath him. ‘Ok.’

Grabbing the base of his cock, Joel shifts, looming over you and pushing your thighs apart so they’re bent at the knees to accommodate him. Then with a delicate finger, he traces under the seat of your panties and pulls them to one side, baring your spread pussy to his eyes. 

Your jaw goes slack the same time Joel bites out a filthy fuck. You know this is the first time he’s laying eyes on you there - you’ve been demure about that, preferring to be nose-to-nose with him while he buries his fingers inside you. But now, watching his eyes go black, nostrils flaring, an inexplicable high goes to your head, and you feel yourself clench around nothing.

His eyes fly to yours, and your lips part. Did he see that?

Before you can find out, Joel moves, and you hold your breath when he bows his head right where your legs are splayed open. Distracted by the beautiful chisel of his nose from this angle, you would’ve jumped right off the couch if not for his hands holding you in place when he dribbles spit onto your clit.

You cry out wordlessly, not understanding the visceral reaction of your body to the unexpectedly lewd act.

‘You’re plenty wet for me sweetheart, but this will feel even better,’ he says, spitting again, lower this time, and you tremble at the unfamiliar sensation of the wetness trailing down your folds. 

Tracing a thumb over you, Joel makes a low noise of satisfaction in his chest when it glides over your lips, frictionless. Taking a hold of the base of his cock, he positions the underside of his length in the seam of your folds - and thrusts. 

‘Joel!’ you whimper as the full length of him glides over the lips of your spit-wet pussy, from entrance to clit. He braces himself over you, and you hang onto his impossibly broad shoulders as he carefully rolls his hips, again and again. Rubbing along you just so, making sure you feel all of him despite not being inside you - that will have to wait.

You can feel your panties getting wetter, sticking to your skin, and Joel jolts a gasp from you when he roughly tugs the fabric hard to the side, baring more of you to his drunken gaze, witnessing the mess he’s making of you.

‘Listen t’ you,’ he slurs through gritted teeth, the lewd, wet slide of skin filling his ears. ‘Gonna sound even sweeter when I make you mine, sweetheart.’

With a whine, you arch off the couch, as if chasing the possessiveness in his words. Joel finds a rhythm that has the swollen head of his cock grinding against your clit with every thrust, and above you, he smears open-mouthed kisses over the secret spots he’s patiently unearthed by trial and error, until you’re shaking all over. It’s just what you needed, what you wanted - the elusive more that you didn’t know how to articulate. More than his fingers, but not yet ready to take everything that he can give you.

‘You’re close,’ Joel says, a quiet confidence to his verdict that coaxes a whine out of you. Holding a thumb over his cock, it presses even harder against your clit. His hips quicken in pace, and you know he’s chasing his own release as much as yours. 

‘It’s ok sweetheart, you can let go, let me feel you cum for me, let me feel that pretty pussy -’

And then you’re gone. Any illusion of control over your body is just that, an illusion, when the bubble bursts. White hot pleasure burns through your bloodstream, tendrils of heat blooming and swelling from deep inside you, spilling out your fingertips twisted tightly into his graying curls. 

Over the rush of blood in your ears, you hear Joel stutter fuck, fuck, fuck! before warm cum gushes over you, pooling in your belly button, spilling down your pussy and streaking your thighs. 

Limbs heavy and eyelids drooping, it’s hard to care when the cum stains your panties or the couch below. Not when Joel wraps his arms around you, lips brushing the nape of your neck softly as he brackets you from behind. 

Clinging onto the last vestiges of consciousness, you murmur, ‘You have to pick up Ellie soon.’

He grunts. ‘The little punk can wait.’

You smile, struggling to feel apologetic that the teenager might be waiting a while as Joel’s breathing slows, whistling softly by your ear. 

In the quiet aftermath, his words echo in your head. 

When I make you mine. 

Little does he know, he doesn’t have to - you’re already his.

Notes: Time has really flown by since the last main series update. I've gone through so many ups and downs since, and I really need to thank you guys for giving me the time to figure things out in terms of my writing and how this story will go!

As I mentioned in Behind the Seams: Part V, I have 2 more full length chapters planned for the main series. I don't know if there will be any more after that, but at the very least, I hope that I will be adding to the Seams universe through drabbles and oneshots. I wouldn't write off the possibility of more chapters to add to the main series if I find the inspiration.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this chapter ❤️

[senascoop]

☁︎ . , PERSONAL CUDDLE BUDDY , P.SH !

PAIRING: boyfriend ! sunghoon × girlfriend ! afab reader. SYNOPSIS: when you can't help but want to stay closer to your boyfriend even when the electricity goes off. GENRE: fluff, drabble. WARNING(S): kisses, cuddling, not proofread, pure fluff. WORD COUNT: 570. [NAV] [MASTERLIST] [MINI SERIES]

♫︎ REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED

“Sunghoon,” you whispered softly, nudging him as the room suddenly plunged into darkness, the sound of the thunderstorm raging outside filling the air.

He stirred, his voice groggy but tender. “Did the power go out again?” He couldn’t see you, but he could hear the faint worry in your voice.

“Yeah…” you mumbled, your fingers clutching the edge of his shirt.

He shifted closer, his warmth instantly wrapping around you like a protective cocoon. “Are you scared?” His voice was soft, and before you could answer, he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you snug against his chest. The faint scent of him and the steady rhythm of his breathing were enough to calm your nerves.

“Not when I’m with you,” you murmured, burying your face in the safety of his embrace, your forehead pressed against his heartbeat. The storm outside seemed distant now, and the darkness wasn’t so overwhelming.

His fingers brushed through your hair soothingly, his lips grazing the top of your head. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” he whispered, his voice a gentle promise.

In his arms, the storm could rage on, but all you felt was his warmth, his presence, and the peace that came with it.

As the storm rumbled outside, you felt the tension in your body slowly dissolve in Sunghoon's embrace. His arm tightened around you, anchoring you against him, and you could feel the reassuring thump of his heart beneath your cheek.

“Do you want to move a bit?” he suggested softly, a hint of a smile in his voice. “I think we’d both feel better if we were a little closer.”

With a gentle tug, he shifted you both into a more comfortable position, your bodies nestled together like pieces of a puzzle. You turned slightly, facing him, and found his eyes glimmering in the faint light that flickered through the window.

“Perfect,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

You settled into the curve of his body, feeling his warmth seep into you, making the chilly air outside seem like a distant memory. The weight of his arm across your shoulders felt like a protective shield, and you instinctively curled up closer, tucking your head under his chin.

“Is this okay?” he asked, his voice soft, as he adjusted his hold to make sure you were comfortable.

“More than okay,” you replied, feeling a wave of comfort wash over you. The rhythmic sound of his breathing began to lull you into a sense of serenity. You closed your eyes, feeling utterly safe in his arms.

With every passing moment, the storm outside became a mere backdrop to the warmth that enveloped you both. Sunghoon brushed a lock of hair from your forehead and pressed a gentle kiss there, igniting a warmth that spread through your entire being.

“Just us against the world,” he murmured, and you couldn’t help but smile at the thought. The chaos outside faded further away as you snuggled deeper into his embrace, both of you cocooned in a world where only comfort and warmth existed.

In that moment, it felt like the storm was a faraway whisper, and all that mattered was this closeness, this sense of belonging, and the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath your cheek. Time slipped away as you both surrendered to the cozy cocoon of each other's presence, finding solace in the simplest act of being together.

© senascoop | tumblr

[getitoutofmymindwrites]

Take me. | joel miller x f!reader drabble, 1k

Summary: Joel always knows what you need and he gives it to you.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, porn without plot, dom!joel, sub!reader, unprotected p in v, spitting, suffocating, praise kink, degradation kink, all is consensual, established relationship, let me know if I missed anything!

Divider by @saradika-graphics

He’s sitting on his calves fucking you slow and deep, rolling his hips to brush your clit with his pelvis every time he bottoms out, right before pulling almost all the way out, hard thrusts melting your heated core.

Your ass rests on his lap as you lay beneath him, his hands resting with a bruising grip on your hips, your knees pulled back and up almost touching your sides. He has you all spread out and he feasts on you.

You look at him in awe, always so beautiful, so strong, so in control, it makes your skin crawl. His head is bent forward, his own jaw slacked, almost touching his upper chest, his brows knitted together in concentration and pleasure. His curls damp around his face, on the nape of his neck, behind his ears, oh you gonna tug them so hard. His eyes are transfixed down where the two of you connect, his gaze hungry and dark, his pupils blown wide, no sign of his chocolate brown in sight.

His cock is covered on your slick, thick and creamy by now, he’s edging you for -you don’t know how long, you feel you might start loose conscience. Your hands clasped together above your head on his command. No restrains, he wouldn’t make it that easy on you. He knows what you can take. And if not, he’s always pushing. And you’re always taking. So eager.

No ability to tug and pull and push against anything. You have to restrain yourself for him. Because he asked. No, he stated. Like he was informing you of the time. And you want, no need to do this for him. Need to be his good girl, make him proud. Any brattiness you have in everyday life you gladly forsake in his bed. And if you choose not to, he makes sure he fucks it out of you. Consistently and relentlessly.

Joel is what escapes your mouth in a wimper; it’s the only word you know when he has you like this. At his mercy. Always at his mercy. For he is mercyful as he is kind. Eventually. That is how much you trust him, that is how you show him. Surrender. He’s your mantra, your cult, your religion, he’s everything you need. Him, him, him.

His eyes snap to yours by the sound of his name on your lips. He sees how spaced out you are, how fucked out, your head pushed back to the pillow, your eyes rolling back, your mouth agape. No, he won’t have that. You need to be there, take it how he gives it. He needs you to choose to take it. Take him.

His hands leave your bruised hips and he leans above you, putting his weight on one arm beside your head and he squeezes your cheeks together with the other to make you open your mouth.

He doesn’t have to say a word. Oh, how you‘d like to listen to his voice. But you know what he silently asks of you so you open your mouth and stick your tongue out. He stops his thrusts, burried to the hilt inside your warmth, he sucks his cheeks and spits forcefully in your mouth. You close your throat to hold it in and then swallow. But before you have a chance, his grip tightens on your jaw, his big hand covering almost all of your lower face. Hold it he speaks now and if you didn’t know any better you’d thought his voice lacked any emotion. Far from it. Slowly this time, he lets another glob of saliva to drop from his pursed lips. He’s so dominant, so large and broad and massive above you, you clench so hard around his cock, it stings.

“You like that, huh?” his eyes piercing into yours almost in a challenge. He doesn’t wait for an answer, “That’s right, hold it in your mouth until I say otherwise.” he commands as he grinds his hips, rubbing on your neglected, swollen clit.

You’re out of breath and his teasing on your sensitive nub doesn’t help you keep your pulse even, but you obey, another act of dominance, you suffocate yourself without him having to touch you. The thought makes you clench again, massaging his throbbing cock.

“You fuckin’ love it, don’t you? Suffocating on my spit like the needy little slut you are?”. You nod, eyes wide, tongue still out, face red from the lack of air, corners of your sight turning haze. He lowers himself on his elbow, cradling your neck with his palm, tugging the hair there and loosening his grip on your jaw with the other, not giving you command to swallow. Another. He wants you to hold it yourself, hoping, believing, despite every instinct of self preservation that he won’t let you faint. Trust.

He brushes his lips against your nose and your upper lip. Instead of trying to breathe all you wish for is that you could smell his scent right now. Smell him. And then he licks your cold now tongue with his warm one. The sensation makes you shiver. You almost come then and there. But you don’t. Not without his permission. Swallow he coos against your lips looking deeply in your eyes, his thumb now caressing your cheek. And you do.

“There’s my girl. There’s my good fuckin’ girl.” he praises you with a proud smile, the one revealing his dimple and your whole world lightens. You smile lazily at him, so full of love and need to be close to him, you almost forget and move your hands to hug him. You restrain yourself and try to raise your chest instead against his. He supports his weight on his calves again and brings one hand back on your hip and the other between the valley of your breasts pushing you back down, because he knows best. You obey. “That’s it babygirl. Take it.” he growls as he starts fucking you again in a punishing pace. “Fuckin’ take me.” And you do.

[spurbleu]

oldman!price x reader angsty (?) drabble

‧︎✳︎༚︎‧︎⁎︎°︎

age leaves john price in tantrum.

he despises what it’s done to his body. the creak in his knees when he walks, the strain in his shoulder when he reaches across the table. steam engine, ironclad and coal hot, neglected the rust on the belly of its stirrups. adopted a sudden fragility he cannot stand.

takes a literal force of nature to get him to retire, and he grieves it like a father. it, in all honesty, was one. taught him how to shoot straight, how to hold his men, how to be without feeling like he’s an imposter in his own skin. forced him to grow up- which is ironically exactly what ended their alliance.

nursed whiskeys, fattened ice kissing the base. smoked like somehow- fossilized in ligero- he’d find his youth again. blistered under reluctant mortality, indulged in fatal vices because if anything is putting him in the grave it’s a gun or a cigar.

a pot never boils watched, yet you stay at your designated post by the doorway while he broods (he’s a dramatic at heart), storm clouds stamped on the collapse of his shoulders.

if you were one of his soldiers, you let him fester.

but you were his wife.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t aged yourself, silver linings sprouting from your scalp, sun spots and bleached knuckles. even so, you found time to pick up his medications, comb through amateur food blogs for gut health and bone pain, roll the aches out of his shoulder before bed. you were kind- and it was insulting.

spitfire catching on the burs of his muttonchops- unfamiliar with dependence. he was a captain for Christ’s sake- alloy lighthouse, built by cement and sheer fucking will. he didn’t need to be hand fed vitamin C and dragged to yoga class. he pitched barbed wire, dug his shallow trench and intended lay in it.

until, one evening, thunder strikes him out of dewy acrimony. he clambers up the stairs, musk of tobacco and spite plants a grimy boot in the oak. he glances over the railing, and stills.

bathroom door, cutting swaddled atmosphere with thin bisque, a pyramid down the center of the hall that created the illusion of darker corners. centered in the odd, domestic scaffolding was you- shower damp and concentrated.

it was like watching a bird preen feathers. tugging at the sags, yanking at the silvers, skin pitching at the nostril and eyes narrowing into thin keyways. and if he squinted, sniper accuracy rendered tears. sallow river bed on your flushed cheeks, clumped lashes, a frown that broke hearts.

“you’re never struggling alone, John,” you had said one evening, when he had been foolishly apathetic, “i’ll make sure of that.”

he hadn’t said anything.

guilt squirms at the base of his neck. the stranger named comfort that swelled within your embrace unnerved him so much he had forgotten to introduce himself. and now, milking moonlit lighting, with a wife who thought he was hiding from her, he called himself what he had never been as a soldier.

a coward.

you were making tea the next morning, windows surrendering a warmth when the day was still docile. it was while you were humming that your husband, sneaky bastard, folds you into the plush of his chest, drowsy lips dragging on the cusp of your shoulder.

“you always look so beautiful in the mornin, darlin.”

and it was true. you’ve never looked better to the old man.

[misswynters]

As the Tides Turn

Aeron Bracken x fem!reader x Davos/Benjicot Blackwood

[warnings: mdni (18+), kissing, cunilingus, blowjob, implied anal?, double penetration, riding, breeding, pronebone, rough sex, creampie, aeron & benji makeout(mxm), mating press, reverse cowgirl, degrading, praising, aftercare, fingering, barely any plot, threesome

[word count: 4.1k

[a/n: i said it was going to be short drabble, but it took a turn for the better. also let me know if i missed something. there could very well be misspellings and such, so caution!

similar | Weirwood Whispers | Surrender |

Tensions were heavy at Raventree Hall, the ancestral seat of House Blackwood. The grand castle, surrounded by ancient weirwoods, was a place of mystery and power. Tonight, it was also a place of passion and conflict. You had been caught in a whirlwind of emotions ever since arriving at the castle. Your presence had not gone unnoticed by Davos Blackwood and Aeron Bracken, two men whose rivalry was legendary. The animosity between the houses of Blackwood and Bracken was as old as the trees that surrounded the castle, but tonight, that rivalry took on a new, more personal dimension.

It had started innocently enough, with shared glances and lingering touches. You had first met with Davos, sharing a moment of passion together. Then came Aeron who only had the goal of giving you what you needed. Aeron had been the first to approach you since then, his charm and roguish smile making it easy to fall into his arms. The night had deepened, and one thing led to another until you found yourself in his chambers, the heat of his body pressing against yours.

Aeron's hands roamed your body with a hunger that matched your own. His lips found yours, and the kiss quickly became a battle for dominance.

Just as you were losing yourself in the moment, the door to Aeron's chamber burst open. Davos stood in the doorway, his eyes dark with fury. He had known something was amiss, but seeing you with Aeron ignited a rage within him that he struggled to contain.

"What in the Seven Hells is going on here?" Davos' voice was a low growl, filled with anger and betrayal.

You and Aeron froze, the reality of the situation crashing down upon you. He moved to shield you, but Davos was already striding into the room, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Aeron, you bastard," Davos spat, his eyes locked onto his rival. "How dare you touch them!"

Aeron, ever the provocateur, met Davos’ gaze with a defiant smile. "They came to me willingly, Blackwood. Can you say the same?"

Davos’ temper flared, and he lunged at Aeron, pulling him away from you and slamming him against the wall. He looked into his eyes with an unknown amount of tension. The two men grappled, their struggle a physical manifestation of the centuries-old enmity between their houses.

"Enough!" you cried, your voice cutting through the tension. "It’s always this fighting.”

Both men paused, their eyes turning to you. You stood there, vulnerable yet strong, a force that drew them both despite their hatred for each other. "Davos," you said, your voice softer now, "Aeron and I... we love each other, but it doesn't change how I feel about you."

Davos’ anger faltered, replaced by a deep hurt. He released Aeron, who staggered back, rubbing his jaw where Benjicot had struck him.

"You know…you don't have to choose," Aeron said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "We can share them." The suggestion hung in the air, charged with a forbidden allure. Davos’ eyes flicked between you and Aeron, his jealousy warring with his desire.

"Can you accept that?" you asked Davos, stepping closer to him. "Can you share me?"

Davos’ jaw clenched, but he nodded. "If it's what you want."

You looked at both men, your heart pounding in your chest. "Then, come to me." Slowly, tentatively, they approached you. Aeron was the first to touch you, his hands sliding over your bare skin, igniting a fire that had only been momentarily extinguished. Davos followed, his touch more hesitant but no less passionate.

The three of you moved together, a tangle of limbs and desire. Aeron kissed you deeply, his hands guiding you near the bed, while Davos’ lips trailed down your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

The sensation of both men touching you, their hands exploring every inch of your body, was overwhelming. You moaned softly, the sound spurring them on. Aeron positioned himself behind you, his hands on your hips, while Davos moved in front of you, his eyes locked onto yours.

"You are mine," Aeron murmured against your ear, his voice thick with desire. "Tonight."

“Ours.” Davos corrected, his anger now a distant memory.

Their words sent a shiver down your spine, and you surrendered to the moment. Aeron's hands were firm and demanding, guiding you back against him, while Davos’ touch was gentle, almost reverent.

Aerons began to lift the hem of your nightgown, finding the sweet spot that was craving to be touched. He started to tease you, moving his fingers everywhere except inside. You whined in bliss. As you were trying to find his hand, the boy in front of you grabbed it. Stopping you from doing anything.

“Nuh-uh sweetheart, what do you think you are doing?” Davos was glaring at you as his eyes darkened with a smirk in his face. “We will take our time with you.” He then began his attack on your nape and Aeron continued his teasing.

After a few moments, Davos took your hand and guided you towards the bed. Aeron took a seat at the center of it, with his back against the headboard. You soon found yourself on top of Aeron, straddling him as you slowly moved your clothed hips with a slow pace. The clothes began have yet to get discarded, yet you could very evidently feel him. Davos, on the other hand started to untie the knots of your flimsy night gown, taking it off your body and tossed it on the floor. His hands gripped your hips, guiding your movements as he thrusts his hips towards you with need. You could feel his hardness laying against your ass. The two men were desperate to get inside of you, however they were trying to take their time. As you started to relief aeron from his trousers, you began to kiss his neck. A small moan could be heard as you finally took his tip into your hand.

Aeron then fully removed his trousers and tossed them aside, his hands falling back to your hips. “Need you…” he panted heavily against your ear. as your chests touched. The heat between you was intense, every touch, every kiss, a testament to the desire you both felt.

Davos stopped his actions and watched, his eyes dark with a mix of jealousy and desire. His breathing grew heavier as he observed you and Aeron, the sight of you lost in pleasure stirring something primal within him. He couldn't deny the pull any longer, already removing his trousers as well.

With a deep breath, Davos joined you both in the act as he came closer. He positioned himself behind you once more, his hands sliding up your back and over your shoulders, grounding you with his touch. The warmth of his body pressed against yours as his lips found the nape of your neck once again, kissing and biting it gently. The dark haired boy began to slowly push your chest towards Aeron’s, making the both you lay on the bed. Davos continued to press his hand as it trailed down your spine until it laid on the curve of your back. His hips finally started to move against your other sweet spot, with a slight tease. Though he had yet to push his cock into you.

The sensation of being between the two men was overwhelming. Aeron's grinding movements beneath you became more rapid, his grip tightening on your hips. He started to move you upwards so he can thrust his cock into you from below. His hands started to spread you cheeks to give Davos a better view of his cock thrusting inside of you, a teasing smile creeping up on his lips.

Davos hands roamed your body, caressing your skin as he pressed himself against you, his arousal evident. "You're so beautiful," Davos murmured against your ear, his voice filled with a mix of tenderness and desire. "We want to make you feel everything. Every part of us."

Aeron's hands moved to your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples as he thrusted harder. The combined sensations were too much, and you cried out, your body trembling with pleasure.

Davos hand slid down to your pussy, his fingers joining inside of you as Aeron's movements began to intensify. You gasped, the pleasure building to an unbearable peak. The two men worked in perfect harmony, their hands and bodies bringing you closer to the edge.

With a final, desperate cry, you came, your body shaking with the force of your release. Aeron followed soon after, his grip on your hips tightening as he shot his cum into you. Davos’ touch was the last to leave you, his fingers trailing down your spine as he pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“It’s my turn with them,” He said as he sat up on his knees and he watched you needlessly. “Alone. Now move.” He stood there glaring at Aeron to move, and he did. He pulled you away from his body as Davos grabbed you by the waist. Picking you up like you were light as a feather.

Davos took his turn with you, his strength and urgency making it clear how deeply he desired you. He placed you down back in the bed, making you face the hot mattress. You were now underneath him, his body pressing into yours with a passionate intensity. His hands explored every inch of your body, his lips leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched. He pushed his tip between your folds with a antagonising motion, that left you gasping for air. He was trying to remain calm, urging himself not to let go of his slow pace.

However Davos movements became more intense, his hips gaining momentum and started to pound against yours with a delicious rhythm. His hands moved to your breasts, teasing and kneading them as he buried his face in your hair, his breath hot against your neck. His kisses grew more fervent, his teeth grazing your skin as he moved lower, his hands exploring every inch of your body. Davos’ hand went down towards your folds playing with you once again. Pushing two fingers inside which left them already soaking, thanks to your first orgasm. His fingers continued this rapid pace, the squelching noises combined with your moans and his grunts, could be heard across the room. As the sensations were almost too much to bear, you cried out, your body trembling with the intensity of your pleasure.

Aeron on the other hand was relieving himself to his view. Although he couldn’t bare at the thought of sharing you with his rival, Davos, he couldn’t help but feel aroused.

You were starting to get tired as he impossibly picked up the pace, which was making a white ring develop around the base of his cock. Pushing the cum that aeron released earlier, further inside. He grasp onto your hair and pushed you deeply against the mattress as he almost pulled out and pushed himself in. The noises got louder and so did your moans, gripping the sheets with intense pleasure until your knuckles turned white. “Don’t let go just yet” he whispered, focusing on making sure you had the most pleasurable experience.

You hummed in response, too cock drunk to say a word. Davos plunged his hips into you after fully pulling out, splitting you open on his thick cock. He started to coo at your adorable attempts to trying to squirm away from his staggering thrusts. "Poor princess, are you regretting your decision…”

You hummed at his words without thinking, spit pooling in your mouth from being fucked so good that you couldn't even remember to swallow anymore. “N-no” you moaned.

He pushed your head into the mattress, as he treated your body like his personal fleshlight. The dark haired man groaned at how wet you were and the squelching sounds your cunt made. It was so filthy that it got him throbbing more and more inside of you.

“Look at this Aeron,” the boy chuckled as he spread your ass cheeks to reveal how wet you were. “Wish this was you, huh.” he grunted, voice trembling from how soft and wet your walls were around his cock. Davos slowed down as he sat in his knees, looking back at Aeron to see why he wasn’t responding.

“Are you seriously going to just stand there, pleasuring yourself like a horny bastard.” he spoke as he caressed your back as your breath began to calm.

“You said it was your turn,” Aeron rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You blackwood cunt.”

Filling with rage once again, Davos pulled out of you making your walls contract harshly. He got off the bed and walked over towards the blonde, menacingly staring at him.

He took his hand and took a grasp of Aeron’s blond locks, yanking his head against his. “Say it again” He dared staring into his eyes, with a gazed look. The boy gulped nervously as he looked at him. One thing lead to another and they both leaned in for a feverishly long kiss. Luckily, you got to catch your breathe before they were reminded that you were there.

They both pulled out from their kiss, panting and grasping for air. “Your turn, but i can’t promise to keep my hands to myself.” Davos pushed aeron by his waist towards you, following closely behind.

“Come here, ___” The raven-haired boy commanded, and you did. You walked up to them looking at their hunger-filled eyes.

Aeron reached out, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair from your face before leaning in to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. His mouth moved against yours with a demanding urgency, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer. He continued kissing you as he sat on the bed, at the same spot as earlier.

Behind you, Davos watched, his gaze filled with a mix of jealousy and longing. His presence was a steady, comforting force, contrasting sharply with Aeron's intense passion.

Davos stepped closer, his fingers lightly grazing your arm before moving to your waist, his touch sending shivers of anticipation through your body.

Aeron's kisses grew more fervent, his lips and tongue exploring yours with an insatiable need. His broad shoulders and powerful frame pressed against you, enveloping you in his warmth. The rugged knight's hands roamed your back, pulling you tightly against him as he deepened the kiss.

The sensation of being kissed so passionately by Aeron while Davos’ skilled fingers explored your body was amazingly satisfying. You moaned softly into Aeron's mouth, your body arching into their combined touch. The noble knight's fingers moved higher, brushing against your folds, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips.

Aeron's kisses became more urgent, his teeth grazing your lower lip as he devoured you with a fierce intensity.

The handsome rogue's hands gripped your waist, holding you steady as Davos’ fingers found your cunt. He curled his fingers inside you, pressing against that spot that made you see stars, while his thumb circled your sensitive nub. Aeron's lips found your ear, his breath hot against your skin as he whispered, "Do you like this? Do you like being touched by both of us?"

You could only moan in response, your body trembling with the intensity of your pleasure. The passionate knight's kisses trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he marked you as his.

You straddled Aeron, the Bracken Lord, with your back facing him. His broad shoulders tensed beneath you as you positioned yourself over him. The fierce lover's hands gripped your hips, guiding you into place. The sensation of him filling you was intense, and you let out a soft moan as you settled your folds between his cock.

Aeron's hands moved to your waist, steadying you as you began to move. His touch was both firm and gentle, guiding your hips as you rocked back and forth. His breathing grew heavier, matching the pace of your movements.

Davos’ eyes were fixed on yours, a look of pure hunger in his gaze. In front of you, he watched intently. The noble knight's presence was a grounding force as he stood by, his eyes never leaving the two of you. As you began to ride Aeron with a steady rhythm, Davos stepped closer to Aeron, his hands finding the blonde’s face. With a mix of desire and possessiveness, he drew Aeron's lips to his, engaging in a deep, passionate kiss.

The room was filled with the sounds of your soft moans, your cunt squelching, Aeron's heavy breaths, and the quiet whispers of their exchanged kisses. As you continued to ride Aeron, your body moving in a rhythm that drove you both wild, you could feel Aeron's hands gripping you tighter, his touch becoming more insistent.

The kiss between him and Davos was passionate, their lips and tongues exploring each other with a deep hunger. Aeron's eyes occasionally flickered to you, filled with a raw intensity that only heightened your pleasure. You leaned forward, resting your hands on his thighs for a better angle. Davos hands roamed over Aeron's chest, his touch both tender and possessive.

Aeron's thrusts upward met your downward motions, creating a rhythm that drove you both to the brink of ecstasy. The Bracken Lord's lips remained locked with Davos, their kiss a blend of passion and urgency.

You could feel yourself reaching your peak, the combined force of Aeron's thrusts and Davos’ kiss creating a whirlwind of pleasure. Aeron's grip on your hips was unwavering, his hips becoming more frantic as he neared his release. He was moaning against his lips.

The raven-haired lord's hands moved to your hips, guiding you down onto the bed. You lay back propped up on your elbows, your heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and desire. Aeron positioned himself between your legs, his eyes locked onto yours as he lowered himself down. The fierce lover's touch was gentle yet insistent, his fingers finding your cunt and slipping inside, preparing you for what was to come.

Davos, the noble knight, moved behind you, his hands caressing your shoulders. His touch was a soothing balm, grounding you as Aeron's fingers worked their magic. The handsome rogue's touch was expert, each movement driving you wild with need. You moaned softly, your body arching into his touch, your core aching for more.

Aeron's eyes met Davos, a silent agreement passing between them. The Bracken Lord removed his fingers, positioning himself at your entrance. He entered your wet folds slowly, his broad shoulders tensing as he slid easily inside, his eyes never leaving yours. The sensation was intense, your body adjusting to his size as he filled you completely. He then settled your legs on his shoulders, drawing you closer to him and lifting you up.

Behind you, Davos positioned himself, his hands gripping your hips as he prepared to join Aeron.

The stalwart defender's touch was firm yet gentle, his fingers caressing your skin as he positioned himself alongside Aeron. You felt a moment of tension, your body tensing in anticipation before Davos began to push inside, slowly and carefully as Aeron pulled out. They both took turns with your folds, pushing each others cum back inside you.

࣪⠀⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗  ࣪⠀⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗  

You have completely lost track of how long the three of you have been fucking. You had countless orgasms and the two rivals were sure taking their time with you. After taking a good break, the tension began to rise again. Sooner or later, Aeron moved with a rhythm as your breasts bounced with each thrust that began to get harder than the last. His eyes never left yours, the connection between you deep and unbreakable. He pulled your hips down harder against his every time you tried to pull away, your orgasm coming near for the fourth time. Davos helped him by snapping your hips downwards.

“I need to make sure you are ready for later, so you might feel a bit full,” “But you can take it, right?”

You nodded as your head hanged from Aeron’s shoulders. Davos began to push over digits against your other hole. The way you were hugging his finger was going to drive him crazy. He bite his lip trying to refrain from moaning. “Fucking shut,” he exclaimed to himself. “You are tighter than before”

࣪⠀⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗  ࣪⠀⊹  ˑ  ִ  ֗  

His dark eyes were intense, filled with a mix of hunger and determination as he prepared to take you. You laid back on the bed, your body eagerly anticipating the sensation of his touch.

Meanwhile, Aeron, the Bracken Lord, was already settled behind you. His hands gripped your shoulders as you laid there before him, your lips wrapped around his throbbing cock. The fierce lover's hands tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as you worked to please him.

Davos approached with a firm but gentle hand, lifting your legs and positioning them to touch your chest. The Black Knight's hands were rough but skilled as he guided you into place, his touch eliciting a soft gasp from you. You felt the anticipation building as he aligned himself with your folds, his eyes locked on yours as he prepared to claim you.

The feeling of Davos's thick cock pressing against you was delicious. You let out a soft moan, the sound muffled by Aeron's length as you continued to suck him with a steady rhythm. Davos's hands gripped your hips firmly as he slowly pushed inside, his movements deliberate and controlled. As he filled you, you could feel the heat of his body against yours, his rugged frame creating a stark contrast to Aeron's more refined presence. The Black Knight's thrusts were deep and powerful, each one driving you closer to the edge.

Aeron's hands gripped your hair tighter, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watched you pleasuring him. His fingers occasionally brushed against your skin, heightening the pleasure of his own experience. The Bracken Lord's moans and groans mingled with Davos's grunts and your own soft cries of pleasure, creating a symphony of sounds that filled the room.

The intensity of Davos's thrusts only heightened the pleasure you were receiving from Aeron. Each powerful push of the Blackwood’s hips against thighs sent waves of sensation through you, causing you to moan around Aeron's cock. Bracken Lord's grip on your hair was a mix of control and tenderness, guiding you with a firm yet gentle hand.

As Davos's pace grew more urgent, his breathing becoming more ragged, you felt the knot in your stomach feeling tighter. The combination of Aeron's cock in your mouth and Davos's powerful thrusts felt delicious, creating a crescendo of pleasure that left you gasping for breath.

Aeron's groans grew louder, his grip on your hair tightening as he neared his release. Davos, too, was reaching his release as his thrusts became more erratic. With a final, powerful thrust, he groaned deeply, his body shuddering with the force of his release. The sensation of his climax filling you was intense, a mixture of pleasure and satisfaction that left you breathless. He stayed in that position as you continued to suck off aeron.

“Now be a good princess and keep all of this cum inside you, ok” The raven haired man said as he leaned towards your ear. He pushed his cock out from inside you. The mixture of his cum, your own and the remnants of Aeron, began to leak out. The blonde man kneeling in front of you groaned at the sight.

At the same time, Aeron's length twitched in your mouth as he found his own release, his groans muffled by the pleasure you were giving him. His grip on your hair relaxed as he let out a long, satisfied sigh.

The room was filled with the sounds of aeron thrusting his cock into your mouth. Davos's hands gently stroked your thighs as he slowly pushed his finger inside you, his touch tender and soothing. Aeron's hands caressed your face, his touch soft and affectionate as he pulled you away from him.

a/n: half of the time i couldn’t take myself seriously when writing this…lol

taglist: @benjicotblckwood @starkluvrr @pearldaisy @pantheonofbeauty @hueanhdang @thornsandtulips

[sanipoyo]

“USE YOUR QUIRK ON ME, HITOSHI”

note - this is edited! i changed some of it :3, shinso drabble, enjoy cuties!

SHINSO kneeled, trying to catch his breath after sparring with his mentor. “when you’re ready, let’s go again. i want you to use your quirk this time”, mr. aizawa instructed and shinso nodded.

a minute later, shinso leaped towards aizawa in attempt to sneak attack him. the old man dodged to no surprise and continued dodging all of shinso’s attempted punches and kicks.

“i’m surprised your still so agile, guessing your age hasn’t caught up to you yet, huh?” hitoshi taunts, trying to get a verbal reaction out of aizawa. instead, he got tied up with mr. aizawa’s binds.

“you’re pretty stubborn, erasure”, hitoshi huffed, chest heaving while he stood in front of mr. aizawa, immobilized and trying to buy time so he could think of a plan. “these villains aren’t gonna be any better, you know.” eraserhead replied and shinso sighed.

“ya think so?” hitsohi asked, causing aizawa to shoot a glare at him. was shinso doubting his teacher? a pro hero? “i know s-“ mr. aizawa began to say getting cut off by shinso’s brainwashing. the binds loosened, freeing him from being unable to move. shinso couldn’t believe it at first, he commanded mr. aizawa to surrender the binding cloth as a whole and he did it. shinso approached his teacher, pushing his shoulder slightly and he snapped out of the brainwashing.

“i won this time.”

Ⓒ all published work belongs to sanipoyo! do not copy/plagiarize.

[bklynsboys]

Operation: Hide Our Relationship (?)

pairing: dean winchester x reader

summary: “you know,” dean murmured, his voice barely audible over the engine. "you always look so cute trying to deny we're not together." you jumped, startled, your hand instinctively reaching for the door handle. “what?”

genre: fluff

word count: 0.5k

author's notes: wrote a silly little drabble about how i see dean hard launching his relationship! the man is the biggest blabbermouth & he'd definitely be the first to announce that he's dating the love of his life to the most important person in his life (aside from you, of course), his brother. so, sit tight! i hope you'll smile from the the tooth-rotting fluff <3

THE IMPALA HUMMED WITH THE AFTEREFFECTS OF THE HUNT, THE AIR THICK WITH THE METALLIC TANG OF BLOOD AND THE FAINT, ACRID SCENT OF BURNT BONES. Dean slumped in the driver's seat, his eyes closed, his breathing deep and rhythmic, a stark contrast to the chaos you had just escaped. You sat beside him, your hands trembling despite the adrenaline fade. A thin film of sweat clung to your skin, and your heart pounded like a trapped animal. In the backseat, Sam tried to ignore the charged atmosphere, his eyes darting between the rearview mirror and the darkening road.

He’d suspected for a while. The knowing glances, the easy touches, the way their eyes lit up when they spoke – it was like an open secret, obvious to everyone but them. He'd tried to voice his suspicions, but they’d always laughed it off, their denials as practiced as their hunting rituals.

“You know,” Dean murmured, his voice barely audible over the engine. "You always look so cute trying to deny we're not together."

You jumped, startled, your hand instinctively reaching for the door handle. “What?”

“You heard me, sweetheart.” A lazy grin spread across Dean’s face. His green eyes, usually sharp and focused, held a softer glow. "You look adorable when you're all red-faced and in denial that we're together in front of Sammy."

A blush warmed your cheeks, and you could feel the heat rising in your neck. “Shut up, Dean!” You tried to sound indifferent, but your voice cracked, betraying the giddiness within.

There's nothing more than you want aside from screaming at the top of your lungs that finally, you and Dean were together.

"And you," cheeks still pink from your boyfriend's teasing, you turned your head towards his younger brother in the backseat. "Sam Winchester, stop smirking. I know you're finding this really funny."

Sam merely raised his hands in surrender, shaking his head at your accusation. "I didn't say anything."

Dean chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “See? So cute trying to prove my point.”

Sam couldn’t resist a snort. “Really, Dean? Now’s the time?”

Dean feigned offense, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “A guy can appreciate his own relationship, can’t he?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “You two are impossible.”

Sam grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Just admit it, you’re totally into each other.”

They exchanged a look, a silent agreement to ignore him. But the truth was written in their eyes, in the way they moved in sync, the unspoken understanding that hummed between them like buzz.

“Can we please just go?” you mumbled, your voice muffled by your hands. "I wanna shower. I stink of graveyard dirt and sweat."

Dean nodded, his expression softening. He reached for your hand, his touch grounding. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Sam sighed dramatically. “I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything.”

As the Impala ate up the road, the tension eased. With Dean's hand in yours, a promise of safety and companionship, you drifted off to sleep, the rhythmic hum of the vehicle and the gentle sway lulling you into a state of quiet.

[sandwhitches]

hii! can i have a cherry popsicle abt suna confessing to the reader but he’s super nervous?? thanks so much! feel free to request smth from me if you’d like to do a little exchange:)

a/n: u must be a mind reader because i’ve LITERALLY been working on this exact prompt omg!!! it’s longer than a drabble (lowkey really long so i just formatted it like a fic☠️) because i already had most of it written when u requested so enjoy :3!! also u BET im gonna send u a request yay!!!

𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 (𝐟𝐭. 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐚 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨)

desc: suna is an idiot and seeks the help of an unlikely (and annoying, in his humble opinion) ally to help him confess to you

content: fem. reader, language, suna’s little sister guest star!!!!! (i love that he canonically has a little sister; she’s like middle school age in this ughhhh suna as a big brother makes me want to combust), suna pining for you like a big stupid idiot

wc: 1.5k

this is a part of my summer writing event!!! please feel free to send some requests my way :3

Suna Rintaro knows two things for certain: firstly, he’s absolutely in love with you, and secondly, he hasn’t a clue what to do about it. It was easier for him to come to terms with the latter, seeing as he’d spent most of his teenage years rolling his eyes at mushy displays of affection and taking the piss out of his friends who seemed to have traded all necessary brain function in exchange for falling in love. 

To him, falling in love this early on in life was as worthless and cheap as the chocolate he watched be gifted every Valentines Day; eventually, they’ll eat what they like and throw what they don’t in the trash, he’s seen it done countless times before, and he’d be stupid to let something like that happen to him. 

Still, here he is, knee-deep and sinking even deeper as the moments go by, he thinks falling in love might be like being pushed into quicksand. As odd as it is for him to admit it to himself, he doesn’t mind it at all.

There’s a certain giddiness that can’t be awarded any time other than when you talk to him. He spends the rest of the afternoon and evening thinking about your conversations, wondering if he said something wrong, thinking of all the ways he could have prolonged the exchange, and smiling fondly when he remembers he managed to make you laugh three times (a new record for him).

“What’s with that face?” Atsumu had interrupted Suna during one of the breaks at volleyball practice, his idiotic grin on full display in Rintaro’s face. Had he really been smiling just from thinking about you?

Suna had mumbled something that sounded like an awkward mixture of shut up and fuck off, quick to storm away in hopes that Atsumu didn’t catch the violent reddening of his cheeks. This is not good, he thinks, love can’t really be this hard to ignore, can it?

He’s put up a hard battle against this exact scenario, and he’s afraid you might have unknowingly thrown a wrench right into his fine tuned machine of a brain. If this really was a battle, he’s fine raising a white flag in order to get to make you laugh more often, for the slight possibility of getting to know if your lips really feel as soft as they appear, and the hope that one day he might forget all about what it was like not to be entirely in love with you. 

This is the nail in the coffin, his final surrender. Being in love really must make people stupid, because he’s nervously tugging his collar as he knocks on his younger sister's door. She chirps a surprised “Come in!” and Rintaro struggles to actually reach for the door, consumed with the reality of the fact that this really is where he’s ended up in his life. Great.

His sister gives him an incredulous look when she realizes it had been him who knocked, eyeing him suspiciously, “What do you want?” She mumbles in confusion, setting her pencil down. Suna parts his lips, mouth running dry, then sighs loudly, shaking his head. 

“What is it?” She inquires, sudden agitation laced in her tone. Rintaro looks at the ground, too embarrassed to see the inevitable shift in her expression when he asks, “What’s the right way to ask out a girl?” 

A silence follows that isn’t long enough in Suna’s opinion, quickly cut off by a loud bark of laughter, “No way! You’re asking me for advice?” 

Here’s another thing Suna Rintaro knew for certain, there’s no word that describes the extent in which his younger sister is the bane of his existence. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Suna mutters self-consciously. This probably was a bad idea in theory, but as much as it pains him to admit it, this is his last resort. He knows next to nothing about how to be normal about talking to you, let alone confess; something is better than nothing in this situation, and he swears to himself that he will make sure he never has to ask his sister for advice like this again. 

Love, when it comes to you, has to be a one and done thing. He’s sincerely praying to whoever is watching over him that he never has to feel the terror of confessing to anyone else again. It just has to be you. 

That’s why he’s here, standing about as stiff as a marble statue as he pushes a shaky finger to your doorbell, drawing his hand back swiftly as if it burned him. In a spurt of unexplainable confidence, Suna had asked if you wanted to hang out on Saturday, conveniently leaving out the part where he desperately wished for it to be more than just a hang out.

Earlier that morning, he’d been so close to chickening out that his sister, of all people, angrily dragged him to the nearest grocery store with a scowl.

 “Don’t get her roses, it’s way too soon for that kind of flower!” She snapped, swatting Suna’s hand away from the bouquet.

“Daisies? Seriously? Are you a serious?”

It would be an utter lie if Suna did not admit that he had no idea what his sister was talking about. If love really is this complex, maybe he’s not the right person for it. Still, he finds himself lingering on the face you make when you laugh, the way you’re the first person that he never got sick of texting into the early hours of the morning, and how you’re the only person that could ever make him reconsider that puppy love and crushes might mean something more than he’d given them credit for.

After all, the way he felt for you is what people call love, isn’t it?

Suna grips the assorted bouquet of colorful flowers that his sister had deemed good enough, listening to the sound of your front door clicking open. He’s doomed, this is a bad idea, and yet it’s the only thing he wants to do. 

How’d you get to be so beautiful? Suna wonders that a lot, in fact, it makes him angry that you’d just waltzed into his life like you did. It’s absolutely unfair, he was a dead man before he could even put up a fight. Falling in love with you was unavoidable from the beginning, but he seems to be just okay with that. 

“Oh!” Your eyes go wide, nonplussed by the bouquet in his hands, “Flowers for me?” You snicker, your laughter is probably the worst thing that could possibly happen right now, it makes everything ten times harder to do.

“Yeah, um-” Rintaro sputters, nervously darting his eyes around for the answer to your question. He knew the answer. You knew the answer.

Hastily, he holds it out for you to take, which you do without hesitation, “What’s the occasion?” 

Suna Rintaro knows two more things for certain: firstly, he’ll die if he doesn’t tell you how he feels, and secondly, you’re smart enough to have already surmised exactly what the occasion is. 

Everything his sister told him, advisories of “That’s too creepy!” and “Don’t be so blunt about it!” all fly to the back of his mind in exchange for the only things he can really manage to say. 

“Well,” Suna starts, cringing at the way his voice cracks, he knows this is about to be the world’s worst confession. 

“I, um, I got these for you because I think you’re really pretty,” you watch in bewilderment as his cheeks gradually saturate into a bright red, “but, that’s not just it!” Suna blurts, “You’re also really smart, and funny, and you’re probably the only person I could sit and talk to for hours without getting annoyed by-” Now, Suna is blatantly breaking the third piece of advice his sister had given him, don’t ramble.

“And, I really look forward to talking to you, even if it’s about boring stuff, I still want to hear you talk all day. Which, saying that out loud is really embarrassing for me, but, not because I’m embarrassed of you, I’m just embarrassed that I’m so-”

“Suna-” you interrupt, the cellophane wrap of the bouquet you held crackles as you lower it to see him better. You watch, partially in amusement, while the boy across from you struggles to comprehend everything he just said. 

Suna is done for when it comes to you, this was priorly understood, so why is it so hard to put it into words if it’s all he ever thinks about? “I like you a lot…is that okay?” He finally sighs, pale green eyes flickering up to search for a silent answer in the faltering of your expression. 

“That’s okay.” You nod, dumbfounded by the sudden declaration, each word was spoken with more confidence than anything you’ve ever heard him say before.

“Cool.” Suna nods dumbly.

“Cool.”

[makethatelevenrings]

DC Masterlist

VDS = Valentine’s Day Series

Jason Todd

We Got Love (fluff, female!reader)

Stay Clean (smut 18+ ONLY, f!reader)

Just Friends (fluff, f!reader)

Sunlight (smut 18+ ONLY, f!reader)

The Sovereign Beauty (smut 18+ ONLY, f!reader)

Of Soup and Snowstorms (fluff, gn!reader)

Two Scoops (fluff, gn!reader)

Two Scoops (and a Danish) (fluff, f!reader)

Kryptonians and French Tarts (fluff, gn!reader)

Only For You (fluff, AFAB!reader (mention of menstruation))

S(he) Walks in Beauty (smut 18+ ONLY, AFAB!reader)

Streaks (angst, gn!reader)

Laundry Day (smut 18+ ONLY, f!reader)

Date Nights Gone Wrong (fluff, m!reader)

Sweet Reader (fluff, gn!reader)

Sweet Surrender (fluff, gn!reader)

Broken Heaters (fluff, gn!reader)

Lucky (smut 18+ ONLY, f!reader)

Puzzle Pieces (angst/fluff, f!reader)

Powerful (smut 18+ ONLY, f!reader)

Story Time (fluff, gn!reader)

Secret Admirer (VDS, fluff)

Healthy Relationship (headcanons, VDS)

NSFW Headcanons (18+ ONLY, VDS)

Pegged and Babygirled (smut, 18+ ONLY, VDS))

Confessions (drabble, fluff, VDS)

Him Cooking Dinner for You (drabble, fluff, VDS)

Half-Eaten Bagels (hurt/comfort)

Dick Grayson

Movement (smut 18+ ONLY, female!reader)

Tell Me To Stay (fluff, gn!reader)

Is That So? (smut 18+ ONLY, f!reader)

Pretty Bird (smut 18+ ONLY, AFAB!reader)

Bored (smut 18+ ONLY, f!reader)

Fuck Up the Friendship (smut 18+ ONLY, AFAB!reader)

Fix Up the Friendship (smut 18+ ONLY, f!reader)

Waiting Room (angst, smut 18+ only, f!reader)

Just a Name (angst, gn!reader)

Decorating Wayne Manor (fluff, gn!reader)

First Christmas (fluff, gn!reader)

Assassin!Verse (continuation of First Christmas)

NSFW Headcanons (18+ ONLY)

Pickle Divide (drabble, fluff, VDS)

Spoiling Him (drabble, fluff, VDS)

Vacation (drabble, fluff, VDS)

Bruce Wayne

For All the Light I Shut Out (OC series)

guy.exe (smut 18+ ONLY, f!reader)

Actions, Not Words (fluff, f!reader)

Invisible (smut 18+ ONLY, f!reader)

Habits and Roadblocks (fluff, gn!reader)

Shovel Talk (fluff/humor, gn!reader)

Stress Relief (smut 18+ ONLY, gn!reader)

Chag Sameach (Jewish!Batmom)

Full (smut 18+ only, f!reader)

For Your Eyes Only (smut 18+ only, gn!reader)

Batmom Valentine’s Day (headcanon, VDS)

First Valentine’s as a Family (drabble, fluff, VDS)

On the Edge (smut, 18+ ONLY, f!reader)

Clark Kent

All-American Apple Pie Kinda Guy (smut 18+ ONLY, f!reader)

[kaylasficrecs]

carmen berzatto recs

god's plan | two shot, angst | @queers-gambit

more, more, more | one shot, smut | @atrwriting

baby? | drabble, angst | @thetealsky

you're so mean to me | imagine, flangst | @writers-hes

lovesick | drabble, fluff | @violentdelightsandviolentends

make my heart surrender | series | @nolita-fairytale

doesn't show up for a date | imagine, flangst | @irndad

yes to heaven | imagine, fluff | @heretodestroyou

to carry and to bear | one shot, flangst, comfort | @neonovember

sardines | one shot, flangst (more fluff) | @laiiaaa

neon sticky notes | imagine, fluff | @queers-gambit

(not) strong | imagine, flangst, comfort | @lskisms

gf's feeling insecure | imagine, fluff | @laiiaaa

sleepless nights | drabble, fluff | @flavor-of-the-week-writing

always have but never hold | series | @bubbles-for-all-of-us

coffee addict | drabble, fluff | @gxtitobxby

robbery of a heart | one shot, flangst | @theonewiththefanfics

the resolution | one shot, flangst | deactivated blog (tw)

cooking up speculations | one shot, flangst | @ticktokrobotsnot

office doors | one shot, trifecta (smut/fluff/angst) | @neonovember

golden boy | series | @neonovember

eat my love | imagine, fluffy flangst | @lskisms

back to work | drabble, fluff | @gh0stsp1d3r

the bear & the fox | series | @thatone-brightstar

sydney saw if first | one shot, fluff | @writers-hes

where there's smoke | one shot, flangst | @thebearer

trying to go to bed mad | imagine, flangst, comfort | @laiiaaa

cinnamon sugar | imagine, fluff | @laiiaaa

stressed cranky gf | imagine, fluff, comfort | @laiiaaa

rosé flown with your chosen family | imagine, fluff | @thebearer

talking you through it | drabble, smut | @thebearer

waitress at the bear | imagine, flangst, comfort | deactivated blog

kiss me and apologize | one shot, fluff (some angst) | @allbark-no-bite

wrinkled cotton | imagine, fluff, comfort | @veryberryjelly

chicken soup for carmy | two shot, flangst, comfort | @d3add0vedonoteat

the light that always goes out | imagine, fluff | @veryberryjelly

one step at a time | imagine, flangst, comfort | @springtyme

our compliments to the chef | imagine, fluff | @pearlzier

new recipe late at night | drabble, fluff | @gxtitobxby

bad day | imagine, flangst | @fooled-around-and-fell

not so secret | imagine, fluff | @violentdelightsandviolentends

roommates | series | @violentdelightsandviolentends

follow me | two shot, fluff | @thebearer

confectionary clash | one shot, angry fluff, comfort | @newtkive

in a world of boys he's a gentleman | imagine, fluff | @wannabeschyulersister

nothing in the world belongs to me | imagine, fluff | @thebearer

take the upper hand | one shot, flangst | @wtfsteveharrington

alarm | imagine, fluff | @veryberryjelly

burn your hand | drabble, fluff | @ohcaptains

the bear and the bee hive | one shot, fluff, smut | @nicksolemnlyswears

[kingtomura]

Tough love

summary: Back and forth banter with a world class villain is all fun and games until he’s gotten you undressed and underneath him, begging for anything and everything he can give you.  cw: tomura shigaraki x female reader, virginity loss, virginity kink, creampie, piv, dacryphilia, very smitten tomura, just smut tbh, drabble wc: 1k | crossposted to ao3

Tomura Shigaraki knows he has a way with words. 

He’s had to learn, especially if he would be the one to rule the underworld, you know. 

It always catches you off guard and it always leaves you wanting a little more — so when you’ve found yourself beneath him in the dark covers of his bed, you slowly realize just how cunning a mastermind villain could really be. 

And it drives you crazy. 

The way he eases into you with promises and whispers of going slow and taking it easy because in his eyes you’re just so fragile he wouldn’t want to break you.

But God, it’s so hard to keep his word because you’re so tight and your little moans and whimpers are driving him crazy.

His thick cock tears through your hymen as he pushes on. Inch by inch, Tomura slides in through the slick, tight walls of your cunt. He’s so deep, the head of it kisses your cervix. 

He gives you a second to adjust — he promised he would go easy on you, but your pretty cunt just takes him so well and you’re being so good for him, he can’t help himself. It’s impossible to keep still and he can’t take the stagnation anymore. 

Your little cries sound like music to his ears and he knows it should make him feel a little more ashamed, but Tomura Shigaraki is not one to feel shame. He adores your cries and wants to hear more of them. 

Tomura wants you to break for him, but he won’t let you know that. 

No, instead he tells you how well you’re doing and relishes in the way you whine as he gets faster — the pain getting a little worse but the pleasure getting a little closer.

And oh it hits just the right spot for him because he’s losing himself more and more into your soft, addictive walls. He knows that if he goes a little harder he may even see those pretty tears trail down your cheeks.

You tell him to slow down, that you don’t think you can take it if he keeps this up, but that’s just what he wants, isn’t it?

He wants you broken and crying for his cock.

He wants you to cum around him as he goes deeper and deeper inside of you with each thrust, cock brushing that sensitive spot inside of you and making you cry out.

You’re such a good girl for him, so good and so sweet — you give him everything he asks for.

You look up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, your long lashes wet with unshed tears and you beg.

The pain has fizzled away and now you're begging him to go faster, harder — to give you more, and he does!

He does with a fever he didn’t know he had as those tears finally, finally make their way down your soft cheeks and he just can’t help himself when he leans down, tongue darting out to catch the salty drops before they trail further and fall onto his dark bedsheets. 

It would be too much of a waste to let them go. Not when he’s worked this hard for them.

You’re close.

He can tell from the way you tighten around his cock and by the way your moans are rising by an octave. 

Tomura decides he loves this part.

He loves to see you come undone completely and surrender yourself to him in a way you’ve never conceded before. He loves to see your expression as he holds your hands above your head, grip tight on your wrists, but careful finger lifted for your protection.

It’s hard not to get carried away. 

There’s the rattling of the headboard as it slams against the walls of his bedroom, the bed is shaking with the force of his thrusts. It should be a sign that he should try to keep it down — that he should be more thoughtful of those who may be within the building, but all it takes is a glossy eyed look from you and he knows it doesn’t matter.

No, none of it matters as he doubles down, his forever careful hands moving to get a better grip on you. Tomura settles for one hand gripping your waist as he leans down onto his elbow of the other. The close proximity is intoxicating as he now has the leverage to really fuck into you without a care.

He watches on as you bring a hand to his cheek, eyes lost in pleasure, but still seeking the intimate affection from him.

He loves the way your eyes close and your brows furrow as you get closer and closer and—

“Fuck..” his own breathy moan catches him off guard, too lost in his own pleasure and watching you that he let himself go along with your release. 

The way your pussy grips him, so tight and so wet, makes his hips stutter and his vision blur as the white ropes of his cum fill your insides. 

You were so pretty, but especially now in the afterglow of it all — sweat clinging to your skin as you tried so desperately to catch your breath. 

Tomura loved it. He loved all of it. 

It’s not enough to let you just lie there so he leans down, capturing your soft lips into a kiss and dipping his tongue into your mouth. 

You moan softly at the intrusion and Tomura drinks it up with a groan of his own. 

You taste so sweet to him, like a fruit he just cannot get enough of — a cold drink on a hot day. 

Tomura finally pulls away to admire his work of your kiss swollen lips and drunkenly pleased smile and it makes his chest clench. 

It’s such a sight that he just can’t help himself when his hips start moving again, steadily going in and out as his already sensitive cock hardened again.

He hopes you’re ready for round two because he’s only getting started.

[springtyme]

𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 ♡

I just want to steal this man's clothes. I just know he has the warmest, softest jumpers.

Simon “Ghost” Riley x reader || Masterlist || Ghost playlist

summary: Simon comes home to you wearing his jumper.

word count: 820

note: This is pretty self-indulgent, but since it's just a drabble I let myself have it. No gendering terms are used for the reader, but I would say that they are somewhat fem coded. The reader is wearing Simon's jumper which is described as being oversized on them, and Simon picks up and carries the reader.

You wrap your arms around yourself as you enter the living room of your and Simon’s flat, the cool air nipping at your skin. As you shuffle around the room, your eyes fall upon one of Simon’s jumpers hanging on the back of a chair. It’s soft and cosy, just the thing you need to ward off the cold. Without a second thought, you pick it up from the chair before slipping it on, relishing in the way it engulfs your frame.  

The jumper is much too big for you, the sleeves extending far past your fingertips and the hem grazing your mid-thigh. But you love it. You love how it makes you feel small and protected, cocooned in Simon’s embrace even when he’s not around. It is as if you are wearing a piece of him, and it brings a smile to your face.

Inhaling deeply, you catch a whiff of his cologne clinging to the fabric. It’s a comforting scent, fresh and earthy, one that instantly transports you back to the moments you’ve spent wrapped in his strong arms. It lingers around you, comforting and familiar, as you settle down on the sofa.

You sink into the soft cushions, your body relaxing against the plush fabric. The jumper’s oversized nature envelopes you, making you feel safe and secure. The warmth seeps into your bones, and you can’t help but let out a tired, content sigh as you close your eyes, surrendering to the cosiness, and soon you drift into a peaceful slumber. 

· · · · · 

As Simon opens the door to the flat, a familiar sense of comfort washes over him. As he toes off his boots, the scent of home greets him, a familiar blend of your favourite scented candle and the fresh flowers you always insist on having. The sweet aroma filling the air, instantly putting him at ease. 

The familiar creak of the wooden floorboards under his feet echoes through the hallway, a sound that signifies he is truly home as he makes his way towards the living room. His heart swells with affection as he sees you lying there, fast asleep, wearing his jumper.

He can’t help but smile at the sight. You look so peaceful, curled up on the cushion, radiating warmth and comfort. The jumper, far too big on you, engulfing your figure, making you look even more adorable.

Simon’s steps are careful as he approaches, not wanting to disturb your peaceful rest. He crouches down beside the sofa, his eyes tracing the contours of your face.

Admiring the way you look in his jumper, Simon feels a surge of love and affection. It’s in these simple moments that he realises how lucky he is to have you in his life. You bring him a sense of comfort and joy that he never thought possible.

As you stir in your sleep, Simon leans in, his lips brushing against your forehead. You smile, sensing his presence, even in your dreams. With a content sigh, you snuggle deeper into the jumper, feeling the warmth and love it represents.

Simon’s heart swells with tenderness as he watches you sleep peacefully. The sight of you curled up, vulnerable and content, fills him with a deep sense of affection. Gently, he scoops you up in his strong arms, careful not to disturb your slumber as he carries you towards the bedroom. 

With each step, he feels a surge of protectiveness, a desire to keep you safe and secure. The softness of your skin against his arms, the warmth emanating from your body, it all fuels his determination to care for you.

As he enters the bedroom, he lays you gently on the soft bed, tucking you in with the utmost care. He adjusts the covers, making sure you’re snug and comfortable. 

He takes a moment to admire you, his heart overflowing with love. He still can’t believe how lucky he is to have you in his life. The way you trust him, the way you bring him peace and happiness, it’s a gift he cherishes every day.

Simon leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. He whispers words of affection, knowing you won’t hear them but wanting to express his love nonetheless. 

Simon knows that this is a moment he will remember, one he’ll think back on fondly when he’s on deployment and misses you. The image of you curled up in his jumper, etched into his mind. He knows that no matter where life takes you, these small moments of care and tenderness will always be the foundation of your love.

In the quiet of the night, Simon finds solace in knowing that he can be there for you, just as you have always been there for him. And as he lays next to you, drifting off to sleep, he dreams of a future filled with more stolen moments, shared laughter, and the warmth of your love.

[arcanume]

Whispered prayers — Aemond Targaryen.

overview & pairing; : Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader : When Aemond is deep within the pleasure of himself — and you, he seems to find his own treacherous, pathetic, thoughts start to wander. his prayers begin to audibly force their way through his lips, and in turn — you start to see a side of aemond; raw, and untouched, materialize.

type; Drabble + Smut, with a tinge of angst.

warning(s); p in v, dirty talk, aemond starts to cry at some point, reader is confused but supportive, aemond needs a hug (canon)

a/n: omgomgomg!! 🥹🎉, i hope u guys enjoy this !! pls leave feedback, it’s so greatly appreciated and lets me know that i at least satisfied somebody !! ♥️♥️

His touch is rather harsh at times, it encapsulates his anger, his nature, perhaps even his pain at times as well. His nights spent with you are a way to manage this..pain? anger? he's not quite sure anymore - frankly he's not sure he ever was sure, or aware, or ever fully in touch with his mind and body.

A wretched thing, his mind, beautiful but wretched - he supposes that's the rest of him too, behind every beautiful corner there's a wretched sickly thing waiting along with it. Perhaps that's why he enjoys you - a simple servant of the castle, something he can dirty over and over again, not quite his but still his.

When his cock glides in and out of you nearly every night, his mind is a quiet echo similar to the darkest hours of the forests he's so frequently rode through. Your touch brings him that of one a mother's might've - might've but never did. He does suppose it's pathetic to chase after something, search for something in a plain servant girl.

But then again you're not plain are you? You hold all the things he longs for, the things he's seen his family to give everybody but him. He realizes his mind will always be broken, always reach out to something he simply cannot have. It's why he holds you the way he does when you're spending yet another night with him, the way his hands make their journey down the curves of your back, gripping every bit of skin he can - grounding himself.

Your breasts pressed against his chest only fuel this desire, this carnal urge to destroy you and savor you all the same. He can't help but press his face into the crook of your neck and let out a noise of just pure pathetic resolve - the way your cunt clenches around him, your scent, your everything.

It's truly not his fault he starts to tear up, anybody would if they had been in the position he was in currently. "I..I do believe I find myself needing you more and more every night and my god is it devastating me to my absolute core." His eyes stare at you with such intensity you start to worry it'll be enough to make you surrender to his every whim and request - not that you don't already of course, but you're truly terrified you'll never be able to stop.

"My prince, where is this coming from?" You start to stir from underneath him and attempt to sit your body up, he however doesn't let that happen, pressing his hand deep into the skin and bone of your hip, confining you to his cock and muscle. "No, no just.. stay where you are my dear one, please?" A simple nod from you is all Aemond needs to continue his thrusts into you. His tears however do not stop, only intensifying with each thrust into your honey sweet cunt.

His behavior sends an echo of confusion into your mind, but you don't press it. Far too afraid of what the cunning prince could do. You let his rambunctious actions on your body continue, choosing to savor the pleasure - rather than dwell on the pain and even possible death that could come with you opening a door to something not quite somebody of your status should ever do.

Perhaps somebody you'll take a leap of bravery and open this door. For now however, you're content with being the warmth and indulgence Aemond needs In his life - it's a high honor isn't it? To be chosen by a prince as beautiful and accomplished as Aemond? You cannot complain when his pleasure blends with your own to create a harmony of completeness, a satisfaction that rests deep in your soul days after an encounter with the prince.

@ arcanume 2024 , do not copy, repost, or steal.