#1k drabbles

[writingsofwesteros]

can you write something about Rhaenyra teaching her daughter how to please a man, using Daemon as an example??

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

“There you go, good girl..” Rhaenyra whispered to you. She had been whispering praises in your ear as you slowly; inch by inch took Daemon’s fat cock inside you. “Big…too big…” You babbled out with your eyes so wide and tears already welling up inside them. Daemon’s chuckling only had you blushing even more.

“Shh, you can take it…you have taken it.” She hummed and gently stroked your sides. Daemon’s own hands were by his side; fisting the sheets to keep from touching you; from flipping you over and fucking you so deep. No, they had to take this slow. You were to be broken in nicely.

Your soft, ample breasts swayed in front of him as he bit into his bottom lip. You were so perfect, he thought to himself. “Now…do you know how to move?” Rhaenyra whispered into your ear; her hands moving down your sides before stopping on your hips. Gracefully, she crawled onto the bed and settled behind you.

You whimpered and softly shook your head. His cock throbbed inside you at your innocence. His hips threatened to jerk as your soaked, sensitive walls fluttered around him. “I can show you.” She whispered and slowly began to move you up and down. “Hmm, like your horses..like a dragon…” Rhaenyra instructed.

Rhaenyra rested her head on your shoulder and locked eyes with Daemon. A smirk played on her lips as you did just as she asked. “Hmm, does that feel good?” She purred and you could only nod your head. Gasps of pleasure escaping you as your hands finally moved to rest on his chest.

Daemon purred and smirked as he watched you blush. “Feels so good.” He whispered his praises and you shivered at the sound of his voice. “Good girl..” The rogue Prince hummed and watched as you gained some confidence. Enough to lean in and lovingly capture his soft lips in a shy move.

Rhaenyra’s fingers moved through your locks as she looked down. She watched her husband’s cock push in and out of you. Your wetness coating his length already as the sound of skin slapping against each other had her nearly moaning. But this was not about her, Rhaenyra reminded herself.

Your legs shook some more as Daemon’s tongue moved into your hot mouth. Rhaenyra could only giggle at your shocked gasp before your moans were echoing around the room once more. She noticed your bouncing was quickening even without her instructing you. Oh, you were learning fast it seemed.

“Now, don’t let it be over so soon.” Rhaenyra purred and gently tugged your locks to gain your attention. A whine escaped you when your head leaned back and your bouncing slowed until you stopped completely. Daemon groaned; his hands instantly on your hips now to force you to continue. 

“Now move your hips instead of bouncing.” Rhaenyra hummed. You softly began to pant out; his name falling from your lips as you did what she asked. His own head fell back against his pillows as your tight, soaked pussy clamped around his throbbing cock. Rhaenyra continued to whisper sweet nothings to you.

She burrowed into your neck as your bright eyes were glazed over in pleasure. “He’s wanted you for so long.” Rhaenyra purred as she gently took Daemon’s hand. He was soon reaching for your breasts as his desire only grew. Your stomach was tightening as the new pleasure began to scare you.

Your legs shook as Daemon’s moans only had you rocking faster. His cock brushed against your spongy spot that had you crying out. “Oh..oh gods…” You whimpered and you had to stop moving. “Keep going.” Rhaenyra ordered as the rogue Prince began to jerk his own hips to match you.

Your eyes rolled back as you began to shakingly match his movements. His hands are roughly palming at your breasts now. “Will they all feel this good?” You babbled out without thought as your mind was becoming more hazy. Daemon’s dark chuckling echoing around the room hardly came over you.

Rhaenyra only hummed; her fingers brushing through those dark curls of yours as your bouncing resumed. You began to chase the release that seemed so close now. “Yes…oh yes…I..” You cried out; eyes so wide as Daemon jackhammered his cock; bullying your spongy spot.

It was only a couple of thrusts later that had you shaking around him. You squirted around his cock; nearly pushing him out but his arms tightly wrapped around you. “Daddy…” You whimpered out; not that you realised as your pleasure took over. “Fuck..” Daemon groaned; your words were enough to push him over the edge.

His cum flooded your hot, fluttering pussy. Daemon still rocked against you, pushing his cock deeper as you collapsed against him. You burrowed into his neck whilst nearly shaking at the intenseness of it all. “I believe we still have a long way to go…but that was so good, sweet girl.” Rhaenyra praised.

Her words had you shivering some more as a soft yawn escaped you. “You should rest now.” Daemon whispered. His cock still stuffed inside your fluttering pussy but you did not have to be told twice. Your eyes began to flutter shut as you happily mewled against his ear. Sleep soon came over you.

Daemon groaned as his hands moved to your arse, softly palming you as he looked towards his wife. “I think she’s better than you.” Daemon had no care of his words and Rhaenyra could only shake her head. “I am glad…she’s from me after all.” Rhaenyra purred into his head before they began to share a sloppy kiss. 

All the while Daemon began to jerk his hips. His cock moving in and out of you with ease as your wetness drenched his length. “She’s asleep..” Rhaenyra hummed and watched as your pretty face screwed up in pleasure. “I do not care.” Daemon hummed as his fingers swiped over your clit for a moment.

Your body jolted and you clamped around his cock; so he did it again and again. His chuckles continued before he brought two of his soaked fingers and forced them into Rhaenyra’s mouth. “Fucking whores.” He purred, making his wife gag as he began to push down onto her tongue. All the while the Princess moaned; sucking your wetness.

[lapetitepatisserie]

cod × fem!reader ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ ᡣ𐭩

The familiar sound of keys in the door alerted you to your husband’s return.

“My love?” he called, looking for you, boots making heavy footsteps as he made his way towards you and your child. His eyes soften once they land on you and your baby girl.

“How’s my princess?” he drawls, voice deep with exhaustion from work.

You look down at the child sitting in your lap, occupied with trying to fit a chubby foot into her mouth. A steady finger reaches underneath your chin, lifting it to meet his warm, intense gaze.

“I’m talking about this one.”

[hanasnx]

“ WHEN THE NIGHT CALLS ” — jason todd.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ sexual content ノ p in v ノ objectification ノ possession ノ roofie mention but not in use ノ gun is involved but no gun play ノ bondage ノ size difference ノ name calling: bitch. NOTES: for @xstarkillerx who drove me wild with one single line.

It takes a lot to please the ARKHAM KNIGHT, most will never know what his approval is like. You are of the few that receive it consistently. Sometimes it's even multiple times a night, frequently.

The HQ is full of bustling militia, passing around beer through strobing lights they crafted from old torches. Their leader was reluctant to let them celebrate, and without several external factors he never would've conceded, but you have a way of persuasion. "If you don't let your men cut loose once in a while, you'll overwork them. They're about to roll into Gotham, let them have this." you believe you had said. Apparently, he'd seen reason through his frighteningly iron grip on this project, or he'd seen your tits in his favorite cami. Either way, you pat yourself on the back.

Your visitation to the keg was met with several hungry men staring you down, offering you compliment atop compliment, one even brave enough to clutch his hand over yours on your cup to bring to the mouth of the nozzle for a refill. They're not stupid, they know you're spoken for—at least in some small way. The most clueless ones may be in denial over the fact you have a special relationship with their boss, but for most it's clear to see that the Arkham Knight stakes a strong claim over you. It's reinforced by your honeyed verbal gratitude towards these desperate men that's immediately followed by your loyal sauntering right over to where the Knight sits. Some deflate with a disappointment knowing you're sweet on them only to return to where you belong, others are smarter than that.

You tilt your head at your disinterested lover, slouched and knees spread in some makeshift throne the boys threw together. The mouth of his heavy handgun strokes up and down his thigh as the digital eyes of his mask watch past you as you approach him. Those gloved fingers tap in a graceful line at the armrest, beginning from his pinky to his thumb in a wave. Despite your hard work in coordinating this, he doesn't seem to be having any fun.

Your thumb swipes at the liquid at the corner of your parted lips, sweeping the bottom one to the side, letting it bob back in place. A motion he takes note of, and finally recognizes you're coming his way, visibly adjusting in his seat to afford you some room. You take the invitation, twirling on your heel to seat on his other thigh, the muscle pressed flush against your sex through your little skirt. A protective arm rounds you, resting the weight of his hand on your bare skin, the tip of his finger toying with your skirt hem. "I don't like that you wore this around them." he speaks into your ear, low and digitally grated. You both know the kind of people he's had to hire, and he's not fucking stupid. His men look at you the way dogs look at fresh red meat.

"I figured it would be alright. You know how to break a jaw, remember?" you reply slyly, an impish grin stretching your smile into something near dazzling. You raise your cup to take a swig, but you glance at him confusedly when the tip of his gun intercepts you, guiding the rim away from your mouth and back onto your lap. With furrowed brows, you inspect the foam of the beer, wondering if he'd seen someone slip you something while they were giving you a refill. Would they be that stupid to do it in front of their boss with eyes like a hawk? You don't know, but you set it off to the side just to be sure.

"Don't like that I'm supervising this thing either. We should be tying up the loose ends." he murmurs, tucking you further into his hard armor. The grip on your thigh suggests he wants to do more than tie up loose ends. A familiar thrill shoots up you, centering in your core, that sensational sting of a memory roots there, making sure you remember what it's like to be filled.

"Why? You wanna tie me up or something?" you suggest playfully.

You didn't think he'd take you seriously. His quarters don't have a headboard, but he didn't seem too worried about that. "Oh—Oh! Jay... Jason, fuck..." you sigh, a dense and gooey pleasure between your legs rolling your pretty eyes into the back of your head. The noises of sex fill the room, skin slapping skin, drenched pussy getting fucked loud and proud.

"Yeah? Yeah, pretty girl, you like that?" he replies with a haughty snicker, peeling your tepid hips off the sheet to meet his own. Big hands grasp the flesh of your backside, lifting and yanking you onto his dick as your tits bounce from the motions. "So wet. You were asking for this, struttin' around in that little outfit—" An obscene groan reverberates from his throat at the memory, throwing his head back as his whole body flexes. Your bound hands lay underneath you, rough rope biting into your skin in a most delicious way. "Fuck, baby, push me off if you don't want me to cum all up in this cunt." You mewl pathetically, squirming in his grip only for him to laugh at you. His gorgeous body rolls under your gaze, deliberate and slow, licking your insides with his fat cock. "Yeah, bitch, take it. Take it just like a fucking fleshlight. Let those cucks know you're cuffed."

[peachetteprice]

42-year-old John Price;

Who gets a cramp in his bottom when he's knee-deep inside you and can't keep his grunting at bay. You find it hilarious how he instantly seizes up and mutters that he needs a minute, panting heavier than he did when he was pounding away at your poor cunt, bless him.

Your sweet John, who lets out an anguished whine and a hushed 'Christ on Earth', as he pulls from inside of you, cock turgid, pulsing and slick with the scent of your mingled cum, who stays on all fours all throughout the duration of the cramp, huffing through flared nostrils, occasionally relinquishing one hand from the mattress to clutch his left buttock (it's always the left buttock, never the right), exclaiming 'I'm not the man I used to be, love,' which, in any other regard would have been downright upsetting, but is ultimately what sends you into a fit of laughter.

And, when the muscle finally relaxes, and you give it a massage to make sure it's loose, pliable and ready for action again - dare a smack - he crawls back over the top of you, gives his cock a light pump or two to ensure the peak of its stiffness before sinking it back into your cunt, with a little more vigour, this time, thanks to the mid-coitus breather (that he later suggests should be mandatory on these nights, for the sake of his old bones), praying that he won't seize up again just before he's about to spill himself inside of you.

| Masterlist |

[maxlarens]

⭐️ oscar + one has an obvious crush, the other is totally oblivious orrrrr secret relationship + someone finding out

hehe okay i did obvious crush but i do love secret relationship

“You’re not subtle,” Lando bumps against your shoulder as he sidles into your space.

You feel something warm spread across your cheeks, you try to hide it by scowling as you take the drink that Lando offers. You tear your eyes away from Oscar, pretending you weren’t watching him talk to Max with an intensity that rivals your focus on track.

“Can you fuck off,” you gripe.

“Nah,” then, he’s shouting, “Hey! Oscar!”

You’re going to kill Lando Norris, you decide. You’ll run him off track during the next race and pray he goes careening into a wall, you’ll put rat poison in the next drink you hand him, you’ll— and oh my god Oscar’s coming over.

It’s not that you can’t be around him. You can. You’re friends. It’s just that lately, your crush is turning into this unignorable thing. You can’t stop watching the way his expressions morph, exposing what he’s feeling so clearly, as if he’s not even controlling it. His teeth on his bottom lip, the freckles on his neck, the stubble on his chin. And he’s wearing this black t-shirt that you hate so much because of how he looks in it.

It makes you angry. It makes you want to claw your hair out of your head. But you also kind of don’t want to ever leave his side.

“Hey,” Oscar greets, smiling with his teeth in a way that makes you a bit woozy, “What’s up?”

“See,” Lando nudges you, sending you careening to the side, your drink sloshing over your hand, “No idea.”

You whip your head around to glare at Lando, you jab him sharply in the arm with a knuckle, briefly forgetting Oscar in your rage, “You little arsehole.”

Lando makes a noise halfway between a giggle and an exclamation of pain, “Don’t punch me, you shit.”

“Huh,” Oscar furrows his eyebrows, laughing a little at your antics, “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing,” you snap, before realising you sound like a total freak, “Nothing. Lando’s just being a cock as usual.”

Oscar’s eyebrow goes further up and you’re biting the inside of your lip to stop from smiling, to stop from reeling forward and kissing him right then and there.

“Okay,” he says slowly, a bit amused, a bit baffled.

You know you’re staring at him, but you can’t seem to stop. He’s looking at you with a soft squinty smile and your head feels light, like it’s going to float right off your body and up into the rafters—

then Lando snorts. Loud, obnoxious and totally obvious.

You’re really going to kill him one day.

join in on my 1k celebration

[stevestark]

Eddie survives the Upside Down by sheer force of Steve Harrington's will. He, Robin, and Nancy come upon Dustin sobbing over Eddie's very alarmingly still body, and Steve doesn't even hesitate to heave Eddie over his shoulder and carry him to the gate. He refuses to think about whether or not Eddie is dead and this is pointless — he'll be damned if he doesn't try everything. They manage to get Eddie through and escape themselves before the earth starts ripping itself open, and Steve carefully lays Eddie on the bed in the RV, tearing down the road at an ungodly speed, driving straight for the hospital.

He's so singularly focused on not letting Eddie die that he doesn't remember about Erica, Lucas, and Max until he watches in horror as a gurney carrying Max comes flying through the doors of the emergency room, Lucas and Erica running behind it. The nurses stop the Sinclairs from following her through to the surgical wing, and Steve hurriedly vacates his seat, pulling the two kids into a hug, apologies pouring from his lips. Eventually, he stops babbling, and everyone takes a seat, Steve wincing as he does so.

The bites on his sides still smart, but he can — and will — wait to get seen himself until he hears something about Eddie. When they'd shown up, Steve carrying Eddie bridal style and screaming for help, everyone around them had thought Eddie was dead; after getting him on a gurney, a nurse yelled at everyone to shut up as she pressed a stethoscope to Eddie's chest, and the next thing Steve knew, Eddie was being wheeled away from them to surgery. Dustin had fallen to his knees, appearing to be praying to anything listening, and Steve nearly joined him. Somehow, Eddie was still alive. Steve refused to be seen until he knew that was still the case.

Hours pass before they're allowed in to see Eddie; when they are, it's somehow more horrifying than the moment Steve had found him cradled in Dustin's lap. Eddie is still motionless, but now he's paler, there's what looks like a hundred wires coming out of his body, and a tube is breathing for him. Steve hazily registers the doctors explaining that the blood loss was significant, as were the wounds littering Eddie's body, and that it's going to be a waiting game to see what happens next. He startles when he hears the gentle comment that if Eddie doesn't wake within a week, it's unlikely he ever will; Steve refuses to even consider that as a possibility.

Nancy manages to talk Steve into getting his own bites cleaned and stitched, which turns into taking him home for a shower and a change of clothes; they're still driving the stolen RV, and when Steve pulls back into the hospital parking lot, he hesitates before climbing out. Eddie's denim vest is still sitting on the sofa, bloodstained and ripped all over. Steve digs through the cabinets of the RV until he finds a sewing kit, and brings the vest inside with him.

He carefully washes out as much of the blood as he can in the bathroom sink, and plops into a chair at Eddie's bedside, pulling out red thread and a needle from the sewing kit. Nancy, Robin, and Dustin all exchange looks before simply sitting in silence, watching Steve carefully begin to repair every tear in the fabric.

Eventually, Nancy gets a hold of Wayne Munson, who enters the room, sees Steve hard at work on his project, and doesn't say a word — he just pulls a chair up next to Steve's, claps him on the shoulder, and reaches out to pat Eddie's leg through the hospital blankets. Neither Steve nor Wayne leave their spots other than to use the bathroom, and nobody tries to make them.

Three days into Eddie's hospital stay, the door opens, and Eleven, Jonathan, Will, Mike, and someone Steve doesn't recognize enter the room. Steve looks up, unblinking and on the verge of unseeing, before turning his attention back to the vest; two small hands reach out and cover his, and it's only then that he registers who's standing in front of him. Eleven is looking at him sadly, and hesitates only briefly before she leans forward to hug him.

He grips her tightly, and takes a shaky breath before holding a hand out toward the Byers brothers and Mike, and sooner than anyone can blink, there's a massive huddle of arms enveloping Steve. For the first time since leaving the Upside Down, Steve lets himself cry; nobody comments at it, nobody even acknowledges it — other than Eleven, who gently wipes his face with her sleeves when they finally separate.

More chairs are dragged into the room, and suddenly Eddie is the most popular patient in the hospital — tied with Max, of course, as the group takes shifts between the two rooms. Steve and Wayne are the only permanent fixtures in Eddie's room, just as Lucas and Erica are the only permanent residents with Max.

Steve finishes patching the tears in the vest, but Eddie hasn't woken up yet, so his fingers itch to keep going. He pulls out a spool of white thread, and outlines the jagged stitches he made before, carefully working his way over the entire vest once more. When he finishes that, he grabs black thread, and repeats the process.

He's in a sort of trance as he stitches away, conversations happening around him but sounding like they're miles away. It's not until someone physically stops his hands moving again that he realizes the words are being directed towards him; confused, he looks up and jolts so strongly he nearly tips his chair backwards. The person who stopped him working this time is Jim Hopper, and for the first time since the doctor gave them the stupid timeline, Steve feels hope. If Hopper can come back, Eddie can too. Eddie can too.

On day 6 of Eddie's coma, Steve speaks for the first time, tired eyes looking at Eleven beseechingly. "Can you... will you see if he's still in there?"

Eleven takes the bandana Wayne passes her and ties it over her eyes, one hand gripping Eddie's, the other intertwined with Steve's. She focuses on the steady beeping of the heart monitor and the wheezing of the oxygen pump, the sounds allowing her to drift into the in-between. She finds Eddie curled in a ball, hands clutching his sides, tears silently streaming down his face.

As she did with Steve, she gently reaches out and wipes his face clean, and waits for him to acknowledge her; he eventually looks up at her and his eyebrows furrow. "Who are you?" he asks, voice scratchy with disuse.

"Eleven," she says, holding out her hand to you.

"Henderson's friend?"

Eleven nods. "Come. Time to leave here. They're waiting for you."

She pulls Eddie to his feet and starts walking forward, focusing her hearing until she can isolate Steve's breathing pattern under the din of the hospital machinery. Her eyes fly open under the bandana, and she rips it off, turning to look at Eddie expectantly. For a moment, there's nothing and then —

Eddie starts choking on the breathing tube, Wayne starts yelling for a doctor, Steve breaks down in fresh tears, and the kids are cheering.

It's hours of examinations later that Steve is finally able to return to his seat at Eddie's side, everyone, Wayne included, giving him a minute alone with Eddie. When he enters, he notices Eddie is holding the vest, tracing his fingers over Steve's haphazard stitching.

Sheepishly, Steve raises a hand to rub the back of his neck. "Sorry," he mumbles. "I did the best I could."

The stitches zigzag across all the places the fabric had been slashed, both by demobat talons and sharp bushes in the Upside Down forest, and Steve's work has it looking like branches of lightning working their way across the vest. Eddie shakes his head and looks up at Steve, eyes wide and shining. "You fixed it."

Steve shrugs and Eddie shakes his head again. "Harrington.... Steve. You... you fixed it. For me."

Steve inches forward in his seat, and reaches out to grab one of Eddie's hands. "I dunno, I kinda think I fucked it up. But I could tell when you threw it at me that this was something that was important to you. I didn't let that place take you away, why would I let it take your things?"

Eddie laughs, head thrown back against his pillows, hand squeezing the absolute life out of Steve's. When he finally settles, he looks at Steve bashfully, head dipped down just enough that he's looking up at him through his eyelashes. "Talk about a declaration of unambiguous true love," he whispers.

Steve doesn't seem surprised or put off by Eddie's assessment; in fact, all he does is beam at him before lifting Eddie's hand to his face, pressing a featherlight kiss to his bruised knuckles.

"Take me out on a date first, Munson. Then we can start throwing words like love around."

As the room fills with the sound of Eddie and Steve's laughter, the rest of the group filters back in, including Lucas pushing a wheelchair-bound Max; Steve looks around at all of them and sighs around a soft smile.

They won.

[endlessthxxghts]

Breakfast

Husband!Joel Miller (no outbreak) x afab!Reader

Summary: Your usual Saturday morning routine with your husband takes a turn, for the better. W/C: supposed to be 1k as per my celebration rules, but... it is now 2k... Oops... I’m sure y’all don’t mind😚. 18+ MDNI: Implied age gap (8 years per request hehe<3). Feminine pet names. Oral sex (reader recieving). Implied domesticity kink. Slight overstimulation, multiple orgasms. Soft Dom!Joel. Dom/sub undertones. Joel being a check-in king (safe word system in action, we love good communication). P in V unprotected. Breeding kink (y'all should expect this from me from now on LOL). ONE (1) USE OF "DADDY" (I had to, I'm not sorry). Sweet sweet aftercare.

A/N: This is in response to this request made by @survivingandenduring for my 1k follower milestone celebration. I remember you being one of the first to accompany me on my journey, and now that we're here together celebrating something I'm so humbly honored to experience, it feels so surreal. I love and appreciate your existence so so very much. Thank you.💚 I hope y'all enjoy!! (Pics for aesthetic purposes only)

MASTERLIST || L'S 1K CELEBRATION

Saturday mornings are your favorite. They’re lazy. They’re warm. They’re spent wrapped completely in the arms of your husband, Joel Miller. Whether it’s your lips or your limbs tangled in between the sheets—Saturday mornings are for you and him. 

So when you woke up this morning to the other half of your bed colder than usual, you woke up with a frown. Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you pull yourself to the restroom to brush your teeth and wash your face, not bothering to change out of your sleep clothes since you made Joel promise you that you guys weren’t going anywhere today.

“Darlin’?” His Southern twang calls out. 

“In the bathroom, baby,” you respond, rubbing in the last of your face cream. 

With a soft knock to your door, he’s entering, a crooked grin at the sight of you. You can’t help the grin that breaks across your face—no matter how long you two have been married, the bashfulness of two teenagers crushing on each other will never go away. 

“Good mornin’, beautiful,” his gruff voice rasps, walking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, his lips ghosting the sweet spot below your ear. 

“Good morning, handsome,” you reply, leaning your body into his large, warm form. 

“Come back to bed,” he whispers, his face burying itself deeper into the crook of your neck. 

“Where’d you go?” You ask, not particularly liking the fact that you didn’t wake up with him this morning. 

Joel turns you in his hold so you’re facing him now. “I’m sorry, my love, I thought I’d be quicker than I was,” he tells you, catching the tone of disappointment in your voice. “I went to make you some breakfast,” he admits. “Nothin’ fancy, I just- I wanted you to eat.”

You narrow your eyes at him, flashing him a small smirk. “What’s your motive, Miller?” 

“Uh-” he stutters, not expecting that from you. “No motive, baby. What, a man can’t make sure his lady eats?” An exaggerated offensiveness evident in his inflection as he speaks. 

“Please,” you giggle. “Every Saturday, like clockwork, I either wake up with your tongue, cock, or fingers inside of me,” you state matter-of-factly. “Why breakfast now?” you ask, your eyebrow quirked up, his signature look. You cross your arms over your chest for good measure. 

Damn, you’re good. And damn, he’s so fucking in awe of you. “Fine,” he relents. “The last few times… after we’re done… you get super jittery and lightheaded. Like your blood sugar is low or somethin’. I dunno, I just, I don’t wanna be pulling so much energy from you, especially on an empty stomach.”

Your jaw would be on the floor right now if it wasn’t attached to you. Oh. My. God. You knew what you were getting into, marrying a Southern gentleman and an older one at that; and you knew just how considerate a lover Joel Miller was, but it never fails to leave your heart—and your pussy—fluttering at how attentive your man is. You are so damn lucky. 

Going back to the room and settling on the bed, Joel climbs up beside you and feeds you your breakfast—one of your absolute favorite combos: a greek vanilla yogurt, your favorite granola, and chopped up fresh strawberries. You make this almost every morning, but something about him making it just makes it taste a thousand times better—leaving your body energized for what was next to come… because shit, did you need it. 

“Joel,” you sob, tears falling from your eyes as they fight to stay open. 

He lifts himself off your cunt, bottom half of his face shiny with your arousal. “Gimme one more, darlin’, then I’ll give you my cock,” he tells you, his heavy breath fanning across your spent center. 

“Joel, I-” you whimper, “I can’t.” Your hips bucking into his face says otherwise. He taps your hip three times. Safe word? He silently asks. One tap for green, two taps for a yellow, three taps for red—an immediate stop. Your hand nearly ripping his curls out of his head softens, tapping his neck once as you attempt to gain your breath back, soft whines blessing his ears. 

He nips the inside of your thigh before he speaks again. “You can,” and then he’s diving back in, tongue breaching your entrance as his nose rubs perfectly at your clit, hurtling you towards your third orgasm of the morning. 

“Oh, fuck-” you nearly scream, head pushing into your pillow with your eyes clamped shut, back arching off the bed. Joel throws his arm across your lower belly, keeping you down and open for him as he licks you through your high. 

Finally, he relents with a satisfied smile, placing a chaste kiss to your clit. “Knew you could give me another, my darlin’ girl.”

“Mmm, baby, please,” you say, reaching for his jaw to bring his face to yours. Not yielding to your touch completely, he brings himself up slow—the tip of his nose dragging up your naked body, Joel placing open-mouthed kisses up your belly, up your sternum, all the way to your lips, your arousal lingering with his own flavors in a deep, needy kiss. 

“Tell me what you want, baby,” he says into your lips, nipping your swollen lip before pulling away to let you speak. 

“N-need you,” you breathe, desperate. You bring your hands down to his boxer-clad bulge, your fingers causing him to twitch. 

Joel tuts, pulling your hand away and bringing it up to the side of your head, his large hand holding it down. “And I need you,” he says, biting your lip again, “to use your words, baby. C’mon,” he urges. Outside of the bedroom, you are very outspoken—this morning’s interaction as evidence—yet, when you find yourself a writhing, moaning mess underneath him, all words are stolen from your brain, all the breath is stolen from your lungs.

“Please,” you start, more determination this time. “I need you inside me, Joel, please fuck me.” You hike your legs higher up, your thighs hugging his waist as you shift your hips, your wet center rubbing against him. 

“Such a good girl f’me,” he praises, sitting up to guide his boxers down, leaving you with a complete unobstructed view of his tanned and toned naked body, his soft tummy turning the pupils of your eyes into hearts. He’s so fucking sexy, and, well fuck, you just said that out loud. 

Joel blushes, leaning back over you to kiss your forehead and your lips before he’s lining himself up with you, his sensitive tip breaching your entrance at a slow pace, his girth thick enough to stretch you every single time in all your years of marriage. 

Your eyes slowly shut as he kisses at your neck. The depth he’s able to reach as he slowly pumps in and out of you, the pubic hairs at his base rubbing against your clit, his deep groans making butterflies erupt in your belly—everything is utterly consuming your body, forcing your already sensitive body to your fourth orgasm of the morning fairly quickly. 

Joel is rocking at a steady pace, one hand underneath your lower back while his other cups the back of your head, his fingers rooting themselves into the base of your hair and applying a slight pressure, knowing the sensation drives you absolutely wild. The moan that floats through the air is enough for Joel’s cock to twitch inside of you, threatening to release at any moment. With all his strength, he lifts his head up from your neck to hover above your own, reveling in the furrow of your brows and the needy gasps coming from your throat. 

“Darlin’,” he rasps. 

“Mhm,” you squeak, unable to form any words. 

“Look at me,” he tells you, hips speeding up. He knows he’s only making it harder for you. 

Your eyes slowly peel open, but your eyes immediately roll back, the pleasure making your mind go numb. 

At your action, Joel is slowing, his hips coming to a near halt. That gets your eyes open. “J-Joel? Baby?” you call, your voice quivering with frustration. You were getting close. 

“Need those pretty eyes on me, darlin’,” he explains, his hips only starting back up because of your eye contact. 

“Y-yes, baby, okay,” you reply shakily, wanting to do anything for him to continue. 

He moves in and out of you again, incorporating a delicious slow grind with every push in. The pleasure is too fucking much, and your eyelids are slipping again even though you’re trying with every ounce of your strength to keep your gaze fixed on him, you fail. 

Again, his hips come to a painful stop. “Darlin’,” he warns. “You stop, I stop.”

“I-” you cry. “Joel, I can’t.” Tears pool at your waterline. 

His hand comes to your face, his thumb catching the runaway tear. “You can, baby, and you will.” It isn’t a request. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping Joel as close to you as possible, his breathing keeping you grounded as you attempt to keep your eyes on his. Satisfied with your attempt so far, Joel starts moving, and this time, he completely lets go. Thrusting into you not too fast or not too slow—and he’s going hard, every push would make you slide slightly up the bed if he weren’t holding onto you the way that he is. 

Your eyes flutter, not shutting completely but not staying open, and Joel makes a warning sound, his mouth spewing filth to keep you focused on him. 

“Need to see those pretty eyes while you flutter ‘round me.”

“Don’t you wanna be filled? I know you want it—crave it.”

“Keep them eyes on me, babygirl. I’ll give you what you want, just lemme see you.”

“Fuck, Joel, please-!” you scream, your hips thrusting on their own accord, your climax shattering throughout your entire body. 

“Thaaat’s it, baby, atta girl,” he moans out, the sensation of you sending his eyes nearly to the back of his head. “Fuckin- give it to me, baby, just like that.” 

“Sh- shit, baby, fuck-” you cry, “please, Joel, please.” 

“Please what, baby? Use your words,” Joel rushes, chasing his own release as he pushes you through yours. 

“Please- please cum inside me, daddy, fuck- needa feel you,” you sob, your fingers gripping onto his back muscles, leaving bright red scratches in their wake as he rails you into the mattress. 

“Yeah, baby? I’ll- oh, fuck-” he whines, his balls pull taut, his tummy muscles clenching, and within seconds, he’s cumming inside you, the sticky warmth covering every inch inside of you, leaking out of your entrance as he continues his movements, slowing himself down to a stop. 

You two lay there for a moment, your chests heaving against each other. Joel places a kiss to your nose, then your lips, then he’s lifting himself off you, heading to the bathroom. You hear him start a bath. 

He comes back after a minute, guiding you to sit up and make your way to the bathroom. He kisses your shoulder. “You alright, darlin’?” 

You nod your head yes, a content smile across your features, eyelids heavy. He pulls your chin between his thumb and his forefinger, making you look at him. His signature scowl, the playful version, is on his face. Those damn words, baby, he’s telling you. 

“I’m more than alright, baby,” you finally verbalize. “I love you.” 

“I love you more, baby,” he kisses your cheek. “My darlin’ girl,” another kiss to your forehead. “My beautiful wife,” your other cheek. He continues on like that until he’s peppered your face in kisses, consuming your body with a love quite like no other. You’re a giggling mess by the time it’s over, begging for him to give you a second to breathe. 

Only then when you two settle against each other in the warm, bubbly water, does he ask his burning question. 

“Did, uh… did the breakfast help you?” 

You take a moment to register how your body feels. It feels light. Not light as in lightheaded or weak—like previous weekends. No, you feel light, warm, content—you feel energized, like you can take on the world right now despite the fact that your legs are still made of jello. You feel good. 

“Yeah,” you say. “Helped a lot.” 

“Good,” he replies in success, kissing the top of your head before he starts massaging every part of you he can reach. 

End note -

I love you, you beautiful humans 🫶🏼

Also, please check out the links highlighted in red on my pinned post to learn about the situation in Palestine and also learn about some ways in which you can help 🇵🇸. Reading and interacting with those links takes 5 minutes of your time at the bare minimum.

divider in middle of fic made by me, vine graphic at top & bottom made my @/saradika-graphics

@pedrostories

[shadowkoo]

Almost Home

→ Summary: Your boyfriend looks extra yummy when he's in the driver seat, which tends to turn you into a feral, needy animal.

↠ wooyoung x f.reader | 712 words | 18+ ↠ genre: smut, pwp, established relationship

→ Warnings: roadhead, oral (male receiving), ball squeezing, teasing, slightly bratty!reader, cock choking & cock swallowing if you squint lol, praise kink, slight exhibitionism & voyeurism, i think that’s it but let me know if i missed something

→ Networks: @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @pirateeznet @othersideoutlawsnetwork

→ Author Note: just a quick drabble bc i have a looooot of thoughts about the photos woo has been sharing lately ugh, not edited either so yeah...enjoy

“We’re surrounded by other vehicles right now, you can’t wait?” Wooyoung exasperates, exhaling a breath as your hands slide up his thigh.

“Just drive faster so no one sees me face first in your lap. It’ll be fine,” you shrug nonchalantly.

“But we’ll be home soon,” he points out lamely, trying to distract you - and himself.

You can’t wait though, he looks almost too good. There’s just something about the way he sits in the driver’s seat, exuding confidence and control, both of which have heat pooling in your center. It's the way he owns the space, completely in charge, and it’s making you lose your mind.

“Let me suck you off, please?” you whine. “I’ve missed you, all of you. Especially your pretty dick. I know it missed me too.” You lean over the center console of his car to kiss his neck, letting your hand dip in between his legs to cup his package. He hisses at the initial contact, then melts into your touch. He secretly loves it when you praise any part of him, even if you use the word pretty in the same sentence.

“Baby,” he groans, tipping back against the headrest and swallowing hard.

“I’ll stop if you really want me to,” you say, massaging him through his pants.

“Fuck,” he grips the steering wheel tighter while increasing speed, “Don’t you dare stop.”

Dipping into his pants after undoing them, you free his hardening length from the layers of fabric. You’re mesmerized by the little beads of pre-cum that spill out of his angry tip. Using your thumb, you smear them across his velvety flesh before immediately taking him in your mouth. The head of his length alone is enough to fill your mouth.

Wooyoung’s body stiffens from the sudden contact, and he might have accidentally swerved into the other lane, just for a second, when your teeth graze along the underside of his heavy head.

Christ.

Removing your mouth from him, you kiss every inch of his thickening length, effectively teasing him until more pre-cum leaks from his small hole.

His body reacts with another shudder when your other hand goes lower to cup his balls, your palm tightening around them when you leave another feather-light kiss on the very tip top of his member just to drive him crazy.

“You’re such a brat. Stop teasing and start choking on my cock already,” he grumbles, using his free hand to shove your face back down.

You comply, wrapping your hand around his girth and lowering your mouth around him. Mmm, you definitely missed this.

Hollowing your cheeks, you take him in further and further until your sputtering along his length.

Wooyoung loves the way your mouth stretches to take all of him. If he wasn’t so hyper focused on not crashing the car, he’d fuck the hell out of your mouth right now. He’ll make time for that later, you know, once you make it home.

Coming up for air, you grin toward your boyfriend while a string of saliva falls from your mouth. “I swear I’ll never get enough of this, enough of you,” you moan.

Wooyoung watches intently as you take in his full length again, only breaking eye contact when he needs to check the road.

“Look at you, you’re unreal. Do you know that?” He says, his eyes burning into yours as he looks down at you again. He rubs a fallen piece of hair out of your face. “Just gorgeous.”

His words make your panties wetter than they already are and you squeeze your legs together for some kind of relief.

You continue to play with his balls as you hum around him while he’s deep in your throat, a move you’ve learned that will send him spiraling right over the edge.

A few seconds later, his hips jerk and he twitches inside you. His hot, seedy release shoots down the back of your throat while he lets out the most delicious moan you’ve ever heard.

“Mmm,” you say, licking your lips once you pull yourself off him. “That was fun. Now take me home and dick me down properly as a thank you.”

He shakes his head, the corners of his lips curling into a smile, “As you wish.”

→ Taglist: @gyupremacy @beomcoups @yoonguurt @sinfullygay

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©shadowkoo 2024. All rights reserved.

[jellinuy]

ꪆ୧

there were few things gojo loved about life. a handful of simple joys that made his — frankly, tiring — existence as the world’s strongest sorcerer just a pinch better.

one of them was your face. a vague first, and he knows that, but that doesn’t change his answer.

“satoru, look. look how many there are!”

look at you, fascinated with something as simple as jellyfish, your eyes illuminated by the blue luminescence of the bubbling tank, your palms pressed to the glass as if you’d never even heard of a sea creature before. he’d never given a second thought to things like that, but he’d buy you the entire aquarium to keep that smile on your face.

“mhmm,” he murmurs, "real pretty.” not once had he taken his eyes off you. even with six of them, he could never get tired of the way your cheeks stretch and your lips show off your teeth.

the second thing was the way you looked at him.

or maybe, he'd told himself countless times, times late at night when his thoughts raced with you, times when he felt his heart ache and pull against his ribs, begging his lips to spill words that his brain told him to keep in, maybe you look at the whole world like that. he wouldn’t be surprised if you did. the way your eyes gleamed when you stared at something you loved — satoru gojo never thought he could be jealous of an inanimate object until he met you.

the third thing was the fact that you didn’t know how he felt. it was a bittersweet, slightly addicting feeling, like candy with a sour coating and a sugary aftertaste. he’d thought out how to tell you: that was why you were at the aquarium right now, though he’d disguised the very obvious date as another hangout when he’d first texted you.

“i didn’t know there were so many different kinds,” you continued to ramble, your hands still pressed to the tank. then you turned to him with that look. that look of wonder. like a child — and gojo hated children, but when you looked at him like that…

“do you think we’re jellyfish in some other life?” such a stupid, random question, and yet his heart pounds, and he prays you can’t hear it. white lashes flutter under his sunglasses, all six eyes focused on the shape of your lips as they push out sweet words. the strongest sorcerer, prodigy of the gojo clan, reduced to something of an elementary school kid with a life-sized crush.

“…yeah,” he mutters, clearing his throat awkwardly when his voice nearly cracks. “yeah, probably.”

the rest of that day was spent in a comfortable bubble, just you and gojo, wandering around staring at fish. it was simple, and he’d not have it any other way. for a few hours, he could forget about it all, take in your face and feel his tiredness die out like a bad dream.

satoru gojo swore the gods must have hated him.

he couldn’t even lift the tarp. it was white, practically red now that unimaginable amounts of blood had soaked it through. your eyes were closed now, courtesy of him — because you deserved to rest in peace, and because he couldn’t bear to see the fear preserved in them as you lay there on the table. as a reminder that he wasn't there to save you.

'killed in action'. three fucking words, and his world was turned on its head.

if had he known the aquarium was the last place you two would've been happy together, gojo would've given anything to make that day last just a few minutes longer, so he could spill his guts, pour his heart out, told you that you could be jellyfish in your next lives like he should have.

but in the end, you died without ever knowing he loved you.

[itoshiexx]

running your fingers through their hair

you are now reading... LENA'S 1K MILESTONE EVENT FIC!

↳ itoshi rin, michael kaiser, reo mikage (separate) + cafuné (n.) - running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

notes: omg hi guys! i'm freaking ALIVE!!! i know i've been terribly inactive but life as a recently graduated lawyer has been INSANE and i barely have time to breathe, let alone write. regardless, i was able to finish this after some struggle, and i really hope you guys like it! cafuné is a brazilian word and it's something i love very much, so thank you anon, @kyukiss and @etoiile for the request and sorry it took so long ♥

event masterlist

Itoshi Rin

“you remind me of a dog, you know?”

rin’s eyes shoot open with your unexpected words, and you receive the harshest glare you’ve ever witnessed on his face when it came to you. 

“excuse me?”

his tone is supposed to be threatening, but his voice is slightly laced with sleep, so it sounds a lot more like a whine. you snort a little bit, pausing your ministrations on his head, where your fingers run through his hair. 

“not in a bad way, baby. i just mean you’re like a puppy when you want my attention,” you giggled a little, and if rin didn’t love the sound so much, he would have berated you. 

“that’s absolutely not true.”

“it is, though. you came back from practice all tired and grumpy, and the first thing you did was put your head on my lap because you wanted me to run my fingers through your hair. you didn’t even showered, rin.”

“i did shower! on the locker rooms!”

you smile mischievously. “oh, i thought the dampness was from sweat. i was about to call you out for being stinky.”

rin’s grimace worsened, and a pout formed on his lips. you couldn’t resist the urge to squish his cute cheeks together. god, he was so adorable it tugged on your heartstrings. how was that even possible?

you lowered your head to give him a quick kiss, and although rin tried to deepen it, you pulled away fast, grinning once again. he knew what was coming even before you said it. “you’re also like a puppy when you trail after me around the house. a lost puppy.”

his groan reverberated through the whole apartment, and rin shoved your hands away from his face, scowling. “i fucking hate you.”

“no, you don’t.”

“i hate you. i’m serious.”

you giggled again. “so why didn’t you leave my lap then?”

his eyes met yours, and you kind of relished in the furrow of his brows. it made his pout even cuter. “…what.”

smugness radiated off of you, because you knew rin — your rin — like the back of your hand. and if there was an universal truth in the world, it would be that the younger itoshi was down bad for you. enough for him to stay despite your shenanigans that always got on his nerves.

“i said, if you hate me, then why didn’t you leave my lap?”

his mouth opened, but no retort came out. he gaped like a fish for a few seconds before groaning again, turning his body so that he could hide his face on your stomach. you laughed at his childish behavior, knowing it was one of the reasons you loved him so much. not many people were able to see this vulnerable side of him, and you were glad to be one of them. 

“shut up.”

“yeah, yeah. you big baby.”

comfortable silence engulfed the both of you, and rin remained hidden on your stomach as you picked up the book you were previously reading, wanting to continue the story. though your left hand was suddenly tugged to lay on your boyfriend’s head.

“keep going,” he murmured, “…please?”

a gentle smile took over your features, and you were quick to run your fingers through his dark, silky strands. rin sighed softly, content with the affection you gave him — as if your angelic hands could take away every doubt swirling on his mind and wipe off the tiredness from his sore body.

“of course,” you said. and your mind completed silently: i’d keep going forever if it made you happy.

perhaps you were down bad, too.

Michael Kaiser

contrary to popular belief, michael kaiser was not a bad boyfriend. 

despite his huge ego, his narcissistic tendencies and his extravagant yet somehow rude personality, he wasn’t the type of guy to treat his partner poorly. in fact, he was a very attentive boyfriend, always doing his best to make sure you were happy and healthy.

or maybe it was just you. who knows.

whatever his reasons were, you relished the fact he took such good care of you, even if he wasn’t physically present because of away games — because michael was very good at making people notice him. whether it was with a bouquet of your favorite flowers delivered to your job, a nice breakfast cooked before you woke or even a small note of love professions. 

however, nothing really compared to having him there, with you, flesh and bone. 

especially on those days you just felt so miserable you wanted to disappear. 

“liebling? you okay?”

it was one of kaiser’s rare day offs, and all you wished for was to spend some much needed quality time with your boyfriend. though, this wasn’t possible due to your job, one you liked having despite michael saying he could support the both of you financially.

but the day at work just sucked. like, a lot. it was that kind of day where things go from bad to worse in a matter of minutes, and when you swear it can’t get shittier, it does.

you were exhausted and emotionally drained. the whole drive back to your shared apartment you were holding back tears, and the dam broke the second you heard kaiser asking you that.

“whoa!” the blonde exclaimed when your bodies collided on a tight hug. “what is it, engel? what happened? did someone hurt you?”

his worried tone just made you sob harder, and kaiser rubbed his hands on your back, trying to give you some comfort. he started to sway your bodies together while humming, doing everything to calm you down.

eventually, your sobs died down, and your boyfriend carefully brought you to the couch, making you lay on top of him; head on his chest. he started to gently scratch your scalp, running his long fingers through your hair.

“you feeling any better?” he asked in a low tone.

“yeah. thank you, mikka.”

the blond only hummed. “do you… want to talk about it?”

you had to stifle a giggle. god, he was so cute. even when he sucked at talking about feelings, he always made an effort for you. 

you slowly shook your head. “jus’ had a really bad day. but it’s okay now.”

his eyes softened impossibly, and you nearly swooned at the sight. “yeah?” 

michael kissed your forehead, and kept threading his fingers among your locks in a gentle caress. you smiled, because it was all you really needed to be comforted.

“yeah.”

Mikage Reo

reo’s body collapsed on top of yours, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. you should have been used to it by now, really, since he’d always do that after you finished your smexy times, but sometimes it still caught you off guard.

“reo, you’re heavy,” you groaned, teasing him. “get off me!”

“give a guy a break, will you?” he whined. “i’m tired.”

your giggle reverberated through his body, and reo repositioned himself to lay his head on your chest, hugging your waist tightly as if to never let you go. he’d rather lose all his fortune before he let that happen. 

“is mr. athlete getting out of shape? i didn’t know this light exercise could make you so…”

your boyfriend interrupted you with a groan. “babe!”

you raised your hands in mock surrender, giggling again, and reo thought maybe he didn’t really care about your teasing if it meant seeing you this happy. he loved you in all your versions, but carefree was his favorite one. 

“sorry, baby. i’ll make it up to you, yeah?”

before he could make a suggestive joke, his breath hitched in his throat when your soft hands started caressing his hair, gentle fingers threading through his purple locks making him sigh. it was so unfair, he thought, how you managed to disarm him with just a small touch, reduce him to putty in your palms with a little gesture of affection. some of his friends said he was a fool in love, and reo couldn’t agree more. 

your love made him silly, but he didn’t hate it. he could never hate anything about you. all mikage reo was able to feel was love, love, love, an emotion so strong it nearly overwhelmed all of his senses, making him forget about all his worries and responsibilities — heck, even the whole world. and he didn’t mind if the world burned as long as he could keep you safe and away from the flames.

“what are you thinking about?” the whisper of your voice echoed the walls of your shared bedroom. 

“what makes you think i’m thinking about something?”

though reo couldn’t see you, he knew you rolled your eyes. 

“it’s usually how the human mind works, honey,” you answered, your wit making him stifle a laugh. “besides, you’re always so chatty, talking my ear off—”

“hey!”

“—so it always concerns me when you get quiet.”

the heir sighed, letting the silence linger a little longer to recollect his thoughts. reo usually didn’t have a hard time expressing himself with words, but sometimes his heart swelled so much it made it hard to think. so, pretty much every time he was with you.

“it’s just… i’m thinking about how i never really believed in past lives and reincarnation. i never really believed in soulmates, either,” he said, and you paid attention to every word. mesmerized by the wonder in his voice and even more by the sparkle in his purple eyes when he averted his gaze to yours. 

“but when i think about you, love… when i see you in my arms or when i rest in yours, i’m sure you are my soulmate, and that we were together in every lifetime. it’s always been you. it will always be.”

your chest swelled with love for the man laying in your embrace, and you tried to hold back the tears from falling. god, he was everything. you didn’t even know what you did to deserve a lover like mikage reo, but you were far from complaining. 

you gave him a chaste kiss on the forehead, trying to convey even a fraction of the love and adoration you held for him, and looked back to caress his face. then, smiling with the world in your eyes, you answered:

“it’s always been you, too.”

© 2024 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[landosjpg]

waitttt i just saw this tweet https://x.com/landopitlane/status/1797050295626698916 and it reminded me of the prompt “kisses. on. the. tips. of. their. nose” and what if she keeps kissing his scar🥹🥹 and he finds it super cute ahhh can u write a drabble on this :’)

& congrats on 1k!! <3

you laughed as lando told you the events of the previous night: how he had drank from a broken glass, cutting himself and ending up with a little bandage on the bridge of his nose.

of course something like that would happen to him.

“let me see,” you softly said, watching as he took the little plaster off to change it after the day.

“how bad is it?” he asked, turning his head to give you a better look.

“oh,” you chuckled. he looked rather cute. “i’ll kiss it better.”

as you said that, you climbed onto his lap, his hands wrapping around your frame as you pressed a soft, tender kiss to the scar on his nose. his eyes closed, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips before you reached for a new bandage to help him cover it again.

for the next couple of days, you kissed the little scar every time he changed the small plaster, “it’ll help it heal faster,” lando had joked the first time.

“it’s almost healed, you don’t need the bandage anymore” you softly said, looking at the wound, though it would definitely leave a scar for some time.

“but you’ll still kiss it, right?” your boyfriend asked, his lower lip turning into a slight pout.

you chuckled, shaking your head.

“it’s helped it heal,” he quickly defended himself, looking at you with puppy eyes.

“sure thing, my love,” you giggled at the silly argument, knowing that he just liked it when you kissed his nose.

“is that a yes?” lando insisted, earning another chuckle from you.

even if you tried, you couldn’t deny him his small request, your lips finding their way to the bridge of his nose, planting a lingering kiss on the spot where he liked most.

[writingsofwesteros]

Daemon smut with his bastard daughter he fathered on the Street of Silk

Like, it‘s totally obvious she is his, looks just like him and he corrupts her into being his little plaything.

Bonus points for a ´daddy´ thrown in here or there

AN: Hi, I hope you like it x

NSFW

“Good girl, so good.” Daemon whispered as he pushed you further into the silk sheets. Your body bent over the bed. His hand roughly palmed at your arse, spreading your cheeks apart to watch his hard cock move in and out of your weeping pussy. “You were made for me.” The rogue Prince purred with a smirk dancing on his face.

“Fuck,” Daemon slowed down; he couldn’t have himself falling over the edge so soon. Your whines of neediness echoed around the room already. You whined as he began to slow his movements. His hand moved into your bright locks of hair that matched his own and pulled you up against his chest.

Your soft, ample breasts moved as he pulled you. His hips still jerked slightly as your weeping pussy fluttered around him. “Daddy….please…” You whimpered out breathesly; the pleasure too good for you to pretend otherwise. Fuck, that was too hot for him to deny and soon his thrusts quickened and became harder.

Your legs were shaking as his hand moved to your neck now; squeezing lightly as his moans filled the room. The slapping of your bodies echoed around the room too as your wetness completely soaked his twitching cock. Your eyes rolled back when his fat head pushed against your spongy spot.

“Yes…oh gods…” You were wiggling in his hold now as his thrusts only quickened. His hand was soon falling down on your soaked, sensitive pussy. He hit your clit again and again as the wet sounds echoed too. “Fucking cum for me, you little whore.” The rogue Prince ordered in your ear.

His free hand moved to your ample breast and began to palm you. “I can wait to watch others ruin you.” Daemon purred darkly. You did not know he was lying; he was far too possessive to allow anyone else to touch you but you believed him. The thought alone had you squirting around his cock.

“Good girl, my good girl.” Daemon purred. He pinched your clit; had it trapped between two knuckles as he fucked you through your climax. All you could do was thrash around as your eyes rolled once more. Your mind was softening as he watched you fall apart once more; your walls clamping down.

Your legs were shaking some more as a second climax was easily building inside you. “Fucking slut.” Daemon’s degrading words had you whimpering. Your pussy fluttered even more as you moved your hand to his hair. Your stomach was bulging with his hard cock as his stomach tightened.

“Fuck, that’s…” He never lasted long with you; not when you felt so good around him as well as the erotic notion of you being from him. His cum flooded you as he kept you against him; his cock stuffing you completely. Your breathing was heavy as his fingers continued to brush against your sensitive clit.

You clamped around his cock once more as he moaned into your ear; softly nibbling at your earlobe. Your mouth watering scent moved over as he began to pinch your clit again and again. “Please…” You hardly knew what you were begging for as his smirk only widened. The pleasure only rises inside you once more.

[ink-n-shadow]

i have this headcanon where although they’re one body, ghost and simon are completely different when they fuck you.

ONE BODY, TWO SIDES

𝜗𝜚 pairing: simon "ghost" riley x gn!reader 𝜗𝜚 cw: smut (minors—DNI), soft dom!simon, hard!dom ghost, switch!simon (kinda oops)

simon would take his time, lavishing his tongue across every bit of exposed skin on your body while he hummed soft praises.

“look at you, sweetheart. all this f’me? fuckin’ hell, m’honored. shhh, shhh, m’not hurrying up. let me take my time with this body, yeah? sit pretty f’me and enjoy it.”

ghost, however, would be anything but patient. he wouldn’t even bother undressing you or himself completely, leaving the mask covering his mouth and scoffing at your annoyed words.

“aye—m’not kissin’ you. mask stays on, yeah? now shut the fuck up and let me take what i need. no, m’not taking ‘em all the way off. i don’t need them all the way off to fuck my cock into you—down on your thighs is good enough.”

simon would be such switch, but especially right before he cums. he definitely whimpers (i will take no questions on this).

“f-fuck—m’close, m’so. fucking. close. no, no, no—don’t make me…don’t make me hold it. baby, please. i can’t—oh fuck, I can’t hold it…”

ghost, on the other hand, is typically the exact opposite. he’s a hard dom/top who growls and snarls in your ear (slightly muffled beneath the mask).

“stop squirmin’. take what i’m fuckin’ giving you. fuck—yeah, that’s it. don’t sound so tough now, d’ya? where’s all that sass from earlier? just needed me to roughen you up a bit and put you back in your place, hmm?”

simon would call you every sweet pet name in the book: sweetheart/sweetpea, darling, pretty thing, baby/babe, angel, dove.

ghost would call you every filthy name he could think of on the spot: pet, slut, whore, a bitch in heat, brainless thing.

it's crazy what a difference a mask and some tactical gear could do to a man.

©️ ink-n-shadow 2024

do not copy, plagiarize, steal, borrow, or repost any of my work without my expressed permission

[hanasnx]

" DOUBLE BUBBLE DISCO QUEEN " — katsuki bakugou.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ WARNINGS: fem bratty pink!reader ノ pussy whipped bakugou ノ established relationship ノ explicit sexual content ノ p in v ノ degradation: f receiving ノ reader has pink hair and pink style.

KATSUKI BAKUGOU didn’t know what to make of you at first. He’d never admit you were intimidating, but your commitment to one color made him nauseous. Pink was everything he saw you sport, as if you couldn’t have a style outside of it. Even your hair sprouted from your scalp in a soft pink shade. Regardless of his initial apprehension, somehow he was roped into a relationship with you. Now he carries your many bags, opens doors for you, holds your hand when you start yapping too much. You annoy him, and yet he sticks with you.

He’s come to respect you, and even like you a little bit. Not that you give him any choice. He can’t be fooled by your soft appearance, you’re just as domineering as he is. You’re spoiled rotten, and high maintenance as hell. It’s taken him loads of tries to get it right, to treat you exactly how you believe you deserve to. It’s difficult—next to impossible—but you make it worth it, don’t you?

When you spread those legs, all pretty and eager for him, things go quiet. For once, things go his way. Katsuki’s never considered himself to be a pussy-driven guy until he met you. Suddenly, he’s letting you bully him into all kinds of things just for a glimpse of that kitty. He’d feel shame if his mouth wasn’t watering right now staring down at those drippy lips, open and waiting for him.

“C’mon, Katsu. Wanna feel you.” you whine with a coy smile to your lips, impatient and brows upturned. Just as you wiggle your hips enticingly, mean and callused hands envelope them, pinning your ass to the mattress.

Gripping the base, he feeds himself into your hole, sniffing out the give until you moan just from the stretch, and he sighs with goddamn relief. As if he’s finally getting payback for everything you throw at him. You’re a damn bitch, and you know he thinks so, but getting this tight cunt gives you a blank slate. After he’s good and fucked his fill, he’ll be ready to take your attitude again. For now, he keeps a palm over that smart mouth of yours, just so you don’t ruin the moment.

“Mmf—“ he grunts, scooping an arm under your knee to pick your leg up, giving himself a little more room inside you. “Even this princess pussy’s a brat…Clenching down on me.” he speaks through his teeth, rutting in and out to hollow out a space for himself. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, you know that?” A bold-faced lie, but you take it anyway, nodding to him. Anything to get him to keep going, anything to get him to make you loosen up so he can fuck you for real. His palm over your mouth remains, and you smell his sweet scent of sweat.

“Running me ‘round, dangling this cunt in front of me knowing I’ll do whatever for it. Tch, you’re so damn annoying.” His words in your ear sends a powerful shudder down your spine, fluttering your eyelashes. You slick, lubing up his entry as he keeps pushing in and in. Even without seeing his face, breathing hard through your nose over his third pinky knuckle, you can feel him grin next to you. You know it's wolfish just from the sound of his reply, “You like hearing that shit, huh?” His husky voice grates your ears and you whimper pitifully under his weight.

His hips increase their fervor, getting excited over the new room in your hole, setting an immediate bruising pace just to be a jerk.

“For someone so spoiled, struttin’ ‘round like you can buy anything you want with daddy’s money, you sure like gettin’ called out on it.” That's what he's here for.

@HANASNX 2024 | do not copy, plagiarize, or steal.

[k3n-dyll]

Warnings...18+, wlw, not proofread, vampire!Ellie, talks of blood, oral

Notes☆ Nothing I just need y'all to know this came to me as I was listening to this

Vampire!Ellie positioned on her knees in front of you, her flushed face pressed snugly between your plush thighs, tongue gently swirling against your swollen clit. Her eyes seem to glow in the dim light as she looks up at you, savoring each and every sinful reaction she manages to pull from you.

It's everything she can do to not feed right now in this moment, the sound of your heartbeat and the blood rushing through your veins fighting to overpower the sound of your voice, making her head spin. It was rare that she fed off of you - off of humans in general, really. As gross as pigs' blood is, it's better than murder - so on the rare occasion that you let her taste you, she'd take her sweet time, often to her own frustration.

She spends a while teasing both you and herself, occasionally moving her mouth away from your aching heat and sinking her teeth into the skin of your inner thighs, allowing her venom to enter your bloodstream. Each bite leaves your mind foggy, the venom acting as an aphrodisiac, making every graze of her hands, every swipe of her tongue, feel almost euphoric. For Ellie, though, each nip at your skin is torturous. The bit of red, metallic-tasting liquid that drips onto her tongue with each bite feeling like a taunt, making her all the more desperate. More feral.

"Ellie I'm - fuck" Your voice comes out as little more than a mewl, brows knit together as you watch her move on from your thighs again, latching her pink puffed lips around your clit and sucking on it.

Ellie only groans - growls really, into your cunt in response, refusing to let up for even a moment now. She knows you're close, she can practically smell it on you, her bright green eyes boring into you as she does her best to concentrate and find that perfect moment. That sweet spot right at the height of your release where she'll finally taste you in full, her breathing becoming more labored and sharp the more she thinks about it.

Your thighs shake and tense suddenly on either side of her head, breath hitching in your throat as your jaw slacks and your head lulls back against the wall, gripping onto her short auburn locks in a futile attempt to ground yourself. Increasingly high-pitched moans and chants of her name spill from your throat, hips bucking and twitching against her as your orgasm overtakes your senses.

There it is.

That split second where you're completely out of it. Distracted and in a state of complete bliss. Ellie takes the chance the moment it comes, digging her fangs hard and deep into your thigh as you cum, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as she gulps down her fix. The pain itself would be unbearable if not for the enchanting effect of the venom coursing through your veins, the slick mess between your thighs only becoming worse as she consumes your very essence.

The hardest part is always pulling herself off of you, her instincts pushing her to drain you of every last bit of it, but of course, she doesn't. She'd take a steak to her own heart if she did anything that wasn't holding you in her arms and taking care of you until the dizziness and pain goes away.

Reblogs are Appreciated || Divider creds ☆ Donations 4 Palestine

Taglist ☆ @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery , @tohoko

[cheeseceli]

Hold me

Pairing: Choi San × Gn!reader

Genre: hurt/comfort, fluff, short drabble

Prompt: If you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did

Warnings: reader is touch deprived

A/n: I wrote something similar to this a few months ago, and I think it was the perfect draft for this work. Hopefully you'll like it <3 | join the 1k event

Touch was never a synonym of love to you.

The feeling of a foreign skin on yours made you feel uncomfortable,way more than you'd like to admit. It reminded yourself of all the fake hugs you were forced to tolerate, all the boys who never learnt about basic respect, all kisses you wish you had never given away.

Touch was not welcomed anymore.

You thought this was okay for a while. You didn't miss it. In all honesty, you felt better this way. But if so, why did you feel so differently about someone's touch?

You remember when it happened for the first time. A hug. San hugged you when you won a plushie in a claw machine he swore it was rigged. You smiled, content with your prize. What you didn't expect, however, was for him to be so happy. That's when he embraced you in his arms, rocking you from side to side so excitedly. It was the first time someone had touched you in a very long while. You thought you'd hate it, but it felt so... good.

You discovered it was because of San himself. You felt relaxed when he offered his shoulder for you to lean on during the ride back home. You felt genuinely happy when he kissed your cheek for the first time, and all times after that.

Touch, his touch, became something you began to crave.

You desired it so much, but you never had to beg for it. A perfect example of it was what is happening right now: you, on San's bed, feeling his arms holding you close to his chest by your waist. He was warm, his slow breathing making everything peaceful. He didn't even know he was touching you, his mind lost in a calm dream, but he was holding you like you've never been held before. It was light, if felt comfortable. You even dare to call it love.

Right then, you cried. Tears falling from your eyes while you felt something heal inside of you. You hugged San back, feeling his arms unconsciously hold you closer, careful.

Touch was, maybe, a synonym of love after all. At least it surely was whenever it came from San.

Masterlist | you'll probably like: Proud

Thank you for reading 🤍

Taglist (open): @yuyubeans

Credits for images 1 , 2 and 3

Dividers by @isisjupiter

The San drabble I promised to @hyunjinvoid 🫶🏻