#PLEASE give me suggestions i need more ideas

[explaintome]

Dear Mouthwashing fandom, explain to me, why next to the incredible fan art, I find a fuck ton of shipping content, especially between characters where this is highly problematic? SPOILERS FOR MOUTHWASHING AHEAD CN for talk about sexual abuse, death, suicide & violence

DISCLAIMER: I do not shame the general practice of shipping at all. I am a shipper myself and I think it makes up for a lot of interesting dynamics and narratives outside the canon. Shipping is an important pillar of fandom communities and I am unable to forbid you to do it. HOWEVER, in the case of Mouthwashing I want to talk about what, in my opinion, feels tone-deaf to the themes and the canon of the game. But let me start with a short summary of the game before I get into it.

Mouthwashing is basically a visual novel that takes place on the Tulpar, the last manned cargo ship of the company Pony Express. The crew, consisting of Caption Curly, Co-Captain Jimmy, Nurse Anya, Mechanic Swansea and his intern Daisuke, is confronted with a crash against an asteroid and the consequences following it. The story is told out of order to reveal the truth bit by bit. What caused the crash, what happened and how the crew deals with the time afterward being stuck on the ship. Revealing sexual abuse, tragic backstories, the horrible side effects of late state capitalism and the neglect of people in command towards the people they are responsible for.

To boil it down we have two men who, out of societal misogyny, hurt the only woman on their crew by assaulting her or not acting as they should have in their position of responsibility. All of this would not have happened if Jimmy didn't rape Anya and impregnate her, and if Curly had disciplined Jimmy in a capacity possible on the ship and in Jimmy's position as co-pilot. To be honest, with the amount of automatization the ship has, I don't think they need Jimmy if it is not a case of emergency, but I digress. Jimmy is the perpetrator of the story, but Curly is an accomplice in putting his aim of finding a solution and compromise over punishing his subordinate as he should have.

And now to my actual point: I am a big fan of the game, the narration style and the utter tragedy of 5 people losing their lives in the isolation of space, with their company not giving a shit about them. Otherwise, they might have been rescued much earlier or at all. Or had enough cryo pots in the first place. Or a nurse with experience. Or any amount of better equipment and not the most cheap shit that somehow made it through a resemblance of regulations. There are probably no regulations.

Being a fan I, of course, looked into the hashtags on several social media sites, and between the incredible art and analysis of the game, I quickly found shipping content, and I have no idea why. I have literally no idea how that narrative speaks to you in a way of shipping characters romantically/sexually. Especially three shippings really rub me the wrong way.

ANYA/JIMMY

Are you fucking kidding me? Literally, what is wrong with you shipping a victim with their abuser? There was not one interaction between them, that suggest that there was consent or affection, that Jimmy has any sympathy for Anya. He knows what is going on, he knows that Anya is pregnant and takes no responsibility. Even worse, his idea of FIXING this was to kill everyone, at least himself, to avoid responsibility! Same goes for AUs where she kept the baby and is somehow okay and happy? I get the urge to fix it, but that is not a good fix. There is no good fix if you are pregnant due to rape.

ANYA/CURLY

A lot of argument I hear for that is that "at least Curly is her friend and was nice to her" and if that is your whole foundation of argument, I want to ask what your standards for a relationship are. Please know that you deserve more than the bare minimum. Another question in that context: Is Curly really Anya's friend? His friend was abused and instead of protecting her, he tried to reason and help her abuser! That is not the behavior of a friend! There is no "but Jimmy is his friend too!". If your friend is an abuser and that does not make you stop being their friend....why?

JIMMY/CURLY

It feels like it is a law on the internet, that two men who look at least averagely handsome will be shipped, especially if they have the tiniest of connection to each other. I am not even sure if I would call them friends in the first place. It appears that Jimmy, whatever his bad life before that job was (thanks to the developers for not giving us a backstory), he is still absolutely unsatisfied with that he has. He is jealous of Curly and his position, seeing how quickly he takes on the Captain title after the crash and only realizes far too late how hard the position actually is. Curly on the other hand feels a bit like a people pleaser to me. He probably had pity for Jimmy, took him under his wing to help him? Fix him? Whatever it is, it made him ignore Jimmy's bad side to a fatal degree. I respect the toxic yaoi but are you sure?

TLDR; I am worried about how the practice of shipping developed, from a way to extend the canon, explore queerness in cis/straight dominated media, into a compulsion of where some people can't look at any form of media or constellation of characters without immediately smashing them together like dolls. If you do this, maybe step back for a minute and ask yourself if it is appropriate. On that note, same goes in case you defend Jimmy. Why?

[blyth-me]

home sick (f.o.t.s.): william h. bonney

Summary: As the weather changes, you catch a nasty cold and Billy takes care of you.

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, brief helping of suggestive content

Word Count: 519

A/N: A little self-indulgent since I was taken allllll the way out with strep and a fever. Please wash your hands and take care of yourselves <3.

masterlist // fresh out the slammer universe

Achoo!

Another sneeze rings out through the little cabin as you stir the stew. You tried to overcome your cold, not wanting to worry Billy, but it was no use. You passed off coughs as clearing your throat, sniffles as hay fever, and even passed off your temperature last night as post-sex heat. Sneezing, however, is something you have yet to successfully conceal.

You try to stop them from coming and manage to do so pretty well. Until Billy saunters in. He's kissing and touching you all over and you're getting distracted by how handsy he's being behind you and how sweetly he's talking to you when-

Achoo!

Billy freezes, his hands and lips pausing. You cringe, bracing for the lecture awaiting you as the stew bubbles on.

"Are you sick, sunshine?" He asks softly.

"No." Achoo!

When he spins you around, he's frowning heavily. His rough hand presses against your forehead.

"You're burning up." He mumbles.

"I'm fine, Billy. I swear it-"

"Quit." He says firmly. "Stop lying to me, darlin'."

You blink up at him and frown.

"I tried to keep it a secret so you wouldn't worry so much." You whisper.

He shakes his head and tucks some hair behind your ears. The disappointment and anxiety in his heart is written all over his face.

"You can't hide that from me. Ever." He says softly, scooping you up and forcing you to the couch. "What if you got worse and I had no idea?" Billy's scolding you, but there's a weakness evident in his tone.

"Billy, I'm gonna be fine." You reach out and reassure him. He gives you a sorrowful glance, his big eyes getting wetter by the second. "Billy..." You coo softly.

"You can't leave me." He whispers. "Not when things are getting so good." He says, resting on your lap.

"I'm not going anywhere. It's just a silly cold, that's all." You comfort.

When you met Billy, he had no family. He explained one teary night that his mother and brother passed from consumption when he was younger, leaving him on his own to grow up fast. He got nervous easily when someone he loved got sick. You never told a soul or made him feel bad, but now that you're sick, you're seeing just how bad it really is for him.

Billy wraps tighter around your waist.

"No more hiding from me, okay?" You nod, stroking his hair gently. He laughs into your thigh.

"Look at me. I should be taking care of you and here I am, needing you like a baby." He wipes his nose and sits up, kissing your forehead.

"I'm sorry Billy." You say, embarrassed about making him upset.

"You can make it up to me by not moving a muscle until those sniffles and sneezes go away." He smiles. "I think I owe you some finished stew darlin'."

When you open your mouth to protest, Billy gives you a scolding glance and you're silenced right away. He makes you stay in bed or on the couch until you're fully recovered, doting on your every need and want.

[mossy-covered-bones]

Ah if i didnt leave my beads at my dads house i coulda made something to add to my chains for aro week…..

[kyouka-supremacy]

Does anyone know where I can find the good quality version of this image? It's so frustrating because when cross searching on google it'll tell me the original quality is 850x478, but I can't find a way to download it in that quality. This is another version of the image (I'm guessing it's Mayoi promo art):

But I liked the clean white background one...

[dream--writing]

Some more ideas for the P5/Bayonetta au while I work on some more art pieces, as well as a call for suggestions

While the Phantom Thieves have their signature weapons, I want Joker, Akechi, and Joker’s father (who will be revealed soon) to have their own 4-gun set

Unlike Jeanne, I want Akechi to have two gun sets, each one relating to one of his Personas

There’s Sherwood, with the individual names Much, Scarlet, Tuck, and Little John

And then there’s Ragnarok, which contains Hel, Jormungandr, Fenrir, and Sleipnir

I’m not sure about Joker though, should I give him Scarborough Fair, etc. or his own unique guns?

If the latter, what do I call them?

I also want each Phantom Thief to have their own Beast Within form, but what?

Some are obvious, like Yusuke is a fox. Maybe Haru could be a dog, specifically a poodle because of her curls? But the others are tricky.

I thought of making Joker a panther like Bayo, but Ann is literally called Panther. So I don’t know about that one

Also Ryuji is a monkey because I said so (and his second-tier persona)

Each thief will also get their chance to summon their Persona during a climax. Who it is will depend on the scenario

I realize this nerfs Joker a bit, but I want everyone to get their chance in the spotlight, so I think it balances out

But here’s some stuff I have trouble answering

How should a demon be summoned? Should it be like in Bayonetta, through the user’s hair, or like in Persona, taking off the mask and calling the name?

Will the Phantom Thieves’ clothes be made out of their hair or not?

Who would be good substitutes for demons like Gomorrah and Labolas?

What should I call little Akira’s stuffed friend? Should I stick with Cheshire, or call it Violet?

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

Op Characters Body Study

Id definately do more of these but please dont suggest anymore to do cuz then my brain will shut the idea off entirely <3

Reference Image:

design comments:

Sanji: I wanted him to mainly be in the legs, while the shoulders and arms were closer together. Compact up top, Watermelon Crushers on the bottom. i vaguely designed him with the Marathon runner from the reference image in mind. I differ from the reference in that i give him upper body muscles cuz he loves his break dancing moves and you need hella muscles for that.

Zoro: Big tits & Tank Body. Cant knock this cat over.

Sabo: This man in my eyes is a Barbie Doll. Long Legs Tiny Torso. Winx Club Sailor Moon lookin mf. In part inspired by this panel of him:

Nami: My headcanon for Nami is that when we first meet her she is very skinny and malnourished, then overtime living with the strawhats she gains weight and progressively gets chubby. I just think that Sanji always cooking her such nutritious meals and tasty sweets, and not needing to fight for herself all the time, would lead to her lovely new body type. Something, something, 'to be loved is to be changed'.

Plus, her new fighting styles isnt like "im wacking you with this stick" anymore, its more "I'm moving this stick in this direction and striking you with the lighting coming from it". That still needs muscles though so i gave her some good muscles up top :3

Artist note: i spent way to long lovingly drawing her boobs.

Ace: He's the dorito man of the universe. Broad shoulders, itty bitty waist. I modeled him after the basketball player in the reference image Alton Huston. i think that he would focus his athleticism in Jumping and Throwing (literally) punches, so it leads me to think he would build the same muscles a basketball player would.

man is 60% legs. freak. anyway,

I just like the idea of a perfect body that has been twisted by its scars.

Luffy: Brick Shithouse. Healthy mix between muscle and fat. i just wanted to make him look Really Healthy.

The majority of this design is just giving these characters body fat. i dont like the way gangly abs and tits look i love a chub. PWEEESEEE ODA GIVE ME A CHUBBY WOMAN CHARACTER PWEEEEEEEEEESE IM BEGGING YOU PWEESE PWEEESESESESESESESESSSESESES

*ahem*

anyway

i had a lot of fun drawing these, i love love love drawing anatomy and this was a good learning experience on top of that. One of the ways i drag myself out of art block is i just do art studies so this is kinda that.

thank you for coming to my ted talk <3

[inkskinned]

it's been said before and i'm sure said better than i can phrase it. but really, really - if you like making "i'm going to kill myself" jokes, please try switching to being ironically conceited instead.

anytime something goes wrong, say things like "ah well at least i'm beautiful and charming and everyone loves me." when you forget something, try "my big huge brain is so smart and thinking about too many other very big wizardly thoughts you wouldn't even understand." when you're frustrated by one of your symptoms, start talking like you're in My Immortal. "Life has come for me but my eyes are beautiful pools of gorgeous fire and my hair is amazing. I stuck my middle finger up at life and told it to fuck off and it did."

just... try it for a month or two. try saying the most absurdly self-congratulatory shit you can think of.

i know it's tempting to make suicide or self-harm jokes. and for me at least, a decade ago (!) when someone suggested i stop making those kinds of jokes, i was kind of at a loss for what to replace them with. i wanted to make light of these moments, but genuinely (at the time) my first thought really was suicidal ideation. there was a part of me that even felt like ... i was kind of "making light" of that voice. that if i could say i want to die lol, it would help take the sting out of that genuine (albeit passive) desire. like i could turn my illness into a joke.

when i started complimenting myself instead, it felt awkward and stupid. it felt really, really ironic. what i was actually saying was nobody would ever think this stuff about me, that's what makes it so fucking funny.

but. the effect was immediate. first thing i noticed was the people around me. when i dropped a glass and said ah my skin is too beautiful and sleek the glass has swooned and broken for me, other people were suddenly overjoyed to jump in with the joke. rather than making an awkward moment, we'd both start cracking up. ah princess sleek hands, i've heard of you.

i was 19. i hadn't noticed i'd been making others tense when i said i want it all to end. i know now that it's incredibly hard to know how to walk that moment - do you talk to them about your concern? do you potentially make them uncomfortable by asking if they're okay? do you ignore the situation? do you help them pick up the glass, or do they need to do it by themselves? are they genuinely made suicidal over this small moment? and most importantly, how do you - without professional training or supplies - actually help?

most people want to help you pick up the glass in your life, they just have no fucking idea how to do it. they don't want to make anything worse. they don't want to make assumptions about you. they love you, they're scared for you - and being scared makes people kind of freeze up. it's not because they don't love you. it's because they do.

now when something bad happens, my first thought is how can i make a stupid joke about this. it isn't my brain saying you're a dumb fucking bitch. i spend more time laughing. i spend more time being gentle with myself. i spend more time feeling good.

and the thing is - what's kind of funny - is that you'd be surprised by how many people agree with you. the first time i said i'm too pretty to understand that, someone else said to be fair you're the prettiest person in this room. i promise - you really don't know how kindly your friends see you. but they love you for a reason. they sort of reverse-velveteen-rabbit you. your weird and ugly spots fade away and you just become... the love they want to give you.

go love yourself ironically. the worst thing that happens is that you end up tricking your reflection into actually loving you.

[monstersholygrail]

New City, New Life

5k celebration ‘Choose your own adventure’ story

Orc x fem!reader— cum eating, dry humping, fingering, voyeurism, rough sex, clitoral stimulation

Pt1

“Hey neighbor, I was just talking about you,” your hot Wolf Hybrid neighbor says as you walk over to his little group hanging out in his driveway.

His Orc, Naga, and Wolf friends all flash you a knowing smirk, their varying fangs glimmering sends a heat in your belly before you quickly stop yourself. You had to tone your horny ass self down. You didn’t wanna make a bad impression on a new city of people by being desperate for everyone’s cocks. You didn’t think that would fly here. As they stare your cheeks begin to heat up in a way you know is noticeable.

“Mentioned how I wanted to bring over a cup of coffee I made you,” he adds as if sensing your thoughts and trying to reassure you.

So he wasn’t going around talking about you to all his friends? Something tells you that’s not exactly true as his eyes gleam with arousal. You imagine it as you take the cup of coffee from his hands. Your hot neighbor sitting around with his equally hot friends, going over every little dirty detail. Raving about how good your tight cunt felt around his thick cock. All of them growing hard as he recounted the noises you made and how desperate you were to be filled while imagining it was them with you instead.

A choked whimper escapes you that you quickly try and hide beneath a pleased hum. You try your best to look casual as you subtly rub your thighs together, desperate for some kind of friction. But you’re briefly brought back to reality as your hot neighbor hands you the mug of coffee.

“Thank you for this, but—“ you say as you bring the mug to your lips only for your neighbor to brush a clawed finger along the edge of the cup and tilt it up, forcing you to take long gulps of the nicely warm drink. You meet his burning gaze, unable to look away, the tension simmering between you. And in front of all his friends. Fuck you can feel how wet you’re getting.

When he finally removes his finger you lower the cup with only a bit less than half left. Your mouth smacks as the taste bursts across your tongue. It was bitter as you expected coffee to be but also a bit sweet and… salty? It was certainly creamier than you expected it to be. You liked it. Probably more than you liked whatever blend you usually get. You’ll have to ask what his special ingredient is later.

“Thank you again but I was wondering if you guys could give me a ride? I’m in a really tough spot and I just need someone to get me going,” you say, voice strangely huskier than normal.

You clear your throat, glancing away, and look back up to all four of these damn fine men staring down at you as if they’re about to pounce. Your pussy flutters, clamping down around nothing at the thought of them actually doing just that. Their claws digging into your plush form, fangs grazing your sensitive skin, their big tongues ravaging your body to prepare you for their giant cocks.

“Work that is,” you add, voice growing husky all over again.

Your Wolf Hybrid neighbor chuckles darkly, the sound shooting right down to your core. He glances at his friends and a silent conversation passes between them. Then all of them are moving toward the car as if suddenly eager to get in.

“C’mon, sweetheart. We’re headed to work ourselves but we’ll get you off. Who are we to deny someone as cute as you?” He says smoothly, his raspy voice making that sound much more suggestive than you think he meant to.

Your hot neighbor rounds the car, taking the drivers seat. While his Wolf Hybrid friend quickly takes passenger. As if he didn’t want you getting to it first.

“You’ll have to ride in my lap though,” His Orc friend immediately says with a smirk as he hops in the backseat of the car. You follow after him, not wanting anymore seats taken from you.

“And why would I do that?” You ask, not wanting him to know how much you like the idea.

Just as you’re about to sit in the middle seat instead, the Orc’s giant hands are gripping your waist and plopping you down in his lap. Before you can argue or pretend to complain, the Naga gets in last and he curls half his long rattling tail into the middle seat while the rest takes up the remaining one.

“There’sss no more room,” the Naga says, forked tongue slipping out as he speaks and a second later his eyes dilate.

You blush, knowing he can probably taste your arousal in the air. In fact, they all probably can. The realization has you blushing deeper and growing wetter on the hot Orc. Especially as the Orc tugs you closer to his chest and you can feel the distinct bulge of his half-erect cock pressing deliciously along your clothed slit.

Hot neighbor starts on his way and you share your new place of work with them. They’ll know exactly where you are now nearly every day. It sends a strange thrill through you. Wolf Hybrid neighbor tells you that it’s on the way to their place so they’ll drop you off first but that it might take a little longer. They usually like to down the back roads.

You find that you don’t mind as you’re a lot more than just comfortable sitting in the hot Orc’s lap. That is until they actually start driving down the back roads and their… bumpy terrain.

A small grunt escapes you, eyes widening as the car starts rocking. Each jolt of the car has the Orc’s hardening length rubbing right up against your pussy. Your throat tightens as you try and choke down your moans. The Orc feels huge and he’s rubbing over every inch of your cunt. You swear you feel him rocking in sync with the rock. But what would be crazy.

Small talk fills the car and you’re grateful no one seems to be able to notice your inner torment. Small whines leave you as you practically bounce on the Orc’s clothed dick. It sends shocks through your system and you quickly grow more and more needy. The need to be filled and stuffed full itching at your skin.

“I think you’re wet enough f’me now, sweetheart. My patience grows thin. Fuckin’ need to get inside ya,” the Orc says, breaking you out of your lustful daze. It’s only then you register his panting breaths and the way everyone’s eyes shift toward you in the car.

“W-what?”

You yelp as the Orc jerks off your slacks and panties in one swift move and hooks your legs over each of his knees, spreading you wide for the whole car to see. Your glistening folds spasm as they’re exposed to the cold air.

Thoughts run through your head at a mile a minute. You should want to stop this. To scramble off this sexy Orc’s lap. But you only get more turned on, your arousal gushing out of you at the thought of him so suddenly taking you.

“Don’t act like you haven’t been wantin’ to fuck me since your fine ass walked over. That’s how this place works, right?” The Orc asks, almost mockingly.

His words wash over you, clouding your mind, as his hands explore your body. Slightly clawed fingers trail down and dip into your soaked folds. A low moan leaves you and instead of trying to get away you melt back into his chest, hips rolling with the movement of his fingers. He takes the time to prep you for his length and it slowly has you becoming an absolute mess in his lap. And you haven’t even had his cock yet.

You suck in a sharp breath as the hot Orc’s fingers leave you only to replace them with his thick angry tip. His pre-cum creating an even bigger mess of you. Your mind threatens to gain clarity again but then the Orc is pushing you down and splitting you open on his cock.

“Nngh! Ooh… Oh fuck,” you cry out, throwing your head back. The stretch of his girth forcing your gummy walls to accommodate him has your eyes rolling back. The deeper he goes the more you swear you’ve never been filled this good in your life.

The fact that you’re in a car full of men shifts back to the front of your mind and you lift your head to see them all still watching you with a fierce intensity.

Your hot neighbor continues to drive but you notice the way his eyes keep flicking back to you in the mirror. While his Wolf Hybrid and Naga friends each have all their cocks out, languidly stroking them to the sight of you stretched pretty on their friend’s cock. You whimper, basking in the attention, and a second later the Orc starts slamming you down on his massive cock.

“Fuck, dude, you were right. What a perfect pussy. They’re drenched f’me, just slipped right in. So warm and tight. Poor thing won’t get a moments rest in this place,” the Orc huffs and the car erupts into soft breathless laughter.

Aha! You knew your hot neighbor had talked about you with them. The praise is all you focus on and it has your walls squeezing the Orc’s length, wanting to make him go mad. A low growl vibrates from his chest to your back as he feels you get even tighter. His claws sink into your hips as he starts using his grip to fuck his cock up into you at a bruising pace. His thrusts syncing up perfectly with the rocky jostling of the car that only seems to be getting worse.

You cry out as the car’s movements also deepens the Orc’s momentum. You swear you can feel his dick all the way up in your throat. He’s stuffing you so full of him you don’t know if you can take it. You arch back into the Orc, putting on a show for him and everyone in the car. Through hooded eyes you watch as they furiously pump themselves to the sight of your body. It gets you so fucking hot. Their lustful eyes raking over your form. All of them wanting a piece of you, all of them jealous of the one who gets to fuck you.

The Naga flicks out his tail, the rattle on its tip moves in between your legs, wanting to do anything he can to give you more pleasure. You wait with bated breath and shriek as he rattles his tail, the vibration sending sparks throughout your body. The Orc snarls in your ear and picks up pace, jerking up his hips and meeting your thrusts in a way that has your toes curling.

“How do they look?” Your hot neighbor growls, knuckles white on the steering wheel, and sounding borderline feral. His cock aching against his slacks.

“They look so fucking sexy, man. Their tight pussy can barely take him,” His Wolf Hybrid friend moans, his hips twitching as he jerks himself off even harder.

“But they’re doing ssso well. Pretty thing will be ruined for anyone else,” the Naga adds, roughly rattling his tail against your clit. He thrusts up into each of his hands that pump at both of his dicks. You mewl, vision blurring at the intensity that wracks through you.

“Fuck, I think they’re about to cum!” One of them shouts but you’re too lost in the haze of pleasure to focus on which one it is. But then the Orc’s hot breath is curling around your ear and your mind clears enough to hear his rumbling voice.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Fuckin’ let go and cum on my cock. Squeeze the damn life out of me, you can do it.”

The cord snaps and jaw drops, fierce screams echo throughout the car as you explode all over his cock. Waves of ecstasy wash over you and you try your best not to pass out. The sight of you coming is a vision of pure art and none of the other men can hold on much longer.

The Naga lets go first, shooting his cum over any inch of bare skin he can reach. The Wolf Hybrid is close to follow in his friend’s footsteps as he cums all over you two. Seeing you all wrecked and messy quickly has the Orc slamming into you, burying himself to the hilt and shooting spurt after spurt of his cum deep inside you.

“Such a pretty slut you are, sweetheart. So easily made a mess from our cocks. You’re perfect,” the Orc rasps in your ear and you preen under his praise.

The rest of the car ride is spent with the monsters cleaning you up as you lay limply in the Orc’s lap. You take the time to regain your strength and you hope you’ll be able to feel your legs enough to walk into work.

When you arrive your hot neighbor gets out and greets you as the door opens. He helps you out and you immediately melt into his embrace. Your Wolf Hybrid neighbor laughs, leaning down and kissing the crown of your head.

“Next time, darling. Now get into work,” he murmurs intimately in your ear. Giving your butt a nudging pat.

As you walk in on wobbly legs, you glance around the lobby, looking for the headhunter that recruited you. He was meant to meet you and show you the ropes of the job. But he isn’t anywhere to be seen and you wonder what you’ll do next. You could ask the Demon Guard by the door where you could find him, head down the closest hall and hope you find the headhunter down one of the rooms, or you could head to your Minotaur Boss’ office and hope he can show you around.

[giannaln4]

GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day four.

Cockwarming (1.5k words)

summary: Your idea to have your boyfriend inside you while you watched a movie didn't turned out how you expected.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, cockwarming, stablished relationship, unprotected sex

You had been thinking about it, definitely a lot, especially when you’re both tired or just enjoying each other’s company and need to feel him close, but you never had the guts to say it. Today was no exception. 

With the day off, you and Lando decided to lock yourselves at home and do nothing but enjoy each other, just like you did whenever you had the chance. Today’s plans included cooking together, and eating your dinner in front of the TV as you forced Lando to watch a movie you had been begging him to watch — those types of movies that always made him groan, stating he would hate them, even though he always ended up loving them.

You were doing just that, cuddling on the couch while you enjoyed his warmth behind you after a delicious homemade dinner. It was like any other cuddle, until he started stroking your hip, softly up and down with his big hands. Then up to your sides and to your neck. He just loved touching you anywhere really whenever he could, and tonight his touches weren’t sexual; in fact, they were all too familiar, but the way his wandering hands felt against your skin made you feel different, almost as if you were hungry for more.

“Lan?” You whispered after taking a deep breath, getting ready to spit those words out. He hummed in response, his hands moving down to your hips again as he kissed your uncovered shoulder. “I was thinking... uh, we could- I want to try something." He looked down at you as you tilted your head to look at him.

“What’s that?” He asked, curious.

“I feel- I just want to feel you close to me,” you mumbled, blushing as soon as the words left your mouth.

“Oh.” If you were suggesting what he thought you were suggesting, he definitely couldn’t believe it. You were always a little shy when it came to asking to try new things, but he could never say no to you, not when you were looking at him like that. “How close?”

“Like really close.” 

A wide smile appeared on his face, his hands wandering around your body more desperately than before. “Yeah?” He asked, and you just nodded, hoping he would understand where you were going with this and just do it so you wouldn't have to actually spit the words out. But of course, that was never the case with him. “Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you, baby.”

You let out a sigh. You knew he’d make you say it but you really didn’t want to say it. “Can you like... I- I was just thinking that maybe we could-” You stopped talking; you were really hoping you didn’t have to say it, but with a look, he urged you to continue, “I want you inside me." You finally forced the words out.

His smile grew bigger as he got closer to your ear — so close, you could feel his breath against your skin. “You mean you want my cock inside you?” He whispered, his voice suddenly dropping low.

“Yes.”

Your heart started to race when you felt him shifting behind you, reaching for his joggers. “While we cuddle? You want me inside you while we watch a movie?” 

“Yes please.” 

He slid them down, working to harden his cock just enough to slip it inside you, which wasn’t to hard to do considering he started to feel some kind of way as soon as he realised what you were asking for. Your curiosity got the best of you, so you turned around to watch him give himself a few strokes, his own spit coating on his cock.

He closed his eyes for just a moment, his breathing staining a little at the feeling. You’re almost mesmerised by the view, but you were pulled out of your thoughts once he opened his eyes again and instructed you to position yourself. 

“Turn around,” he commanded, and you immediately obliged. "C'mere.”

You went back to your previous position as you pushed your panties to the side, rolling up your shirt, and waiting for him to get comfortable behind you. He used his already wet hand to find your pussy, letting out a shaky breath as soon as he touched you.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered against your ear. “How am I not gonna fuck you right now?” He pulled his hand away and lifted your leg a little, allowing him to align himself with your entrance “Ready?”

You nodded in response, and just a second later you felt his tip, and then the rest of his cock slowly inching into you. You both let out small whimpers, followed by a quiet ‘fuck’ when he was filling you completely.

Everything was already too much for your poor body. When you first considered this, you thought having him stuffed inside you and feel him close would be enough, and maybe in another occasion it would, but right now, you couldn’t help yourself from shifting a little every now and then, using all your strength not to properly move against him or squeeze his cock that was now resting inside you. 

The movie you were watching quickly became background noise for the both of you as you tried to stay calm, but your neediness got the best of you as you let out an involuntary moan. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Lando asked, clearly teasing you as he continued stroking your hip.

You shook your head, trying to bring your full attention back to the glowing TV, which resulted impossible. He was feeling it too, but he needed you to break first.

The minutes started to feel like hours, and you were certain that you could feel your wetness dripping down your thighs. Lando, the sweet boyfriend he was, decided to give you the little push that you needed.

He moved his hips forward a little, calm and slowly, sliding in the only part of him that wasn’t already inside you. “Sorry, love. Was starting to slip out.” 

Your nails dug into the couch, holding a whimper as you swallowed hard, and a single drop of sweat fell down your forehead. He thought it was impressive how well you were holding yourself together, and he almost gave in, not really wanting to waste any more time, until he heard you speak in a weak voice.

“Please, just fuck me already.”

A big smile appeared on his lips, placing his hand firm on your hip to get a hold of you. At this point, he was as desperate and throbbing for you as you were for him, so he was happy to satisfy you. “Though you’d never ask.”

His body was pressed close to yours as he slipped out of your heat before giving a solid thrust into you. Lando started pounding, slowly at first, but he quickly picked up his pace like his life depended on it, and right now, it felt like it did. His fingers dug into your waist, breathy wimpers filling your ears as his hips slapped against yours. 

“Feels good, baby?” 

“Fuck, so good,” you breathe out, slightly turning your head to capture his lips in a needy kiss. Your own fingers found your clit, rubbing small circles as you lifted your leg a little more for easier access.

His hand left your hip and pushed yours away to pleasure you the way he knew drove you crazy, and the fact that it was his fingers instead made you squirm and clench around him, moaning at how good he made you feel.

“Mhm, squeezing me so good.” He mumbled into the kiss, and your head immediately dropped back to where it was.

He leaned down, leaving wet kisses from your shoulders and all the way to your jaw, whispering sweet nothings as he continued to please you.

“‘m close.”

“Yeah? Cum for me, baby,” he encouraged you. You could feel your orgasm building up in the pit of your stomach, his words pushing you towards your edge even more. 

A few more thrusts, and you were already there, your body convulsing against his as he slipped in and out of you a few more times before his fingers left your pussy and dug into your skin again, this time as he came inside you. His head dropped into your neck as he growled in satisfaction.

Once he fully stopped his movements, you both remained still in that position with his softening cock inside you, trying to catch your breath. Lando was running his fingers down the side of your body, admiring you from behind, and you can’t help but let out a giggle at how your little idea turned out.

“What’s so funny?” He asked, almost offended

“Sorry, I didn’t think trying this would end up in us having sex in the middle of the movie.”

“Boring movie anyway.” He joked, laughing when your elbow softly hit him in the chest. “We should try it again sometime; the cockwarming, I mean, felt nice before you begged me to fuck you.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t stop your face from turning a bright red.

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[sceletaflores]

A Different Kind of Compensation.

part two!

pairing: mike schmidt x fem!reader

prompt: you’ve been babysitting abby for mike nearly three months now. he constantly apologizes for not paying you yet, you constantly tell him it doesn't bother you. one night he comes back from his shift at freddy’s and has a different idea on how to compensate you for all of your hard work.

warnings: 18+, oral (fem receiving), vaginal fingering (kinda???), munch!mike.

word count: this was supposed to be a short dirty work that somehow turned into a 2.2k monster. told you i love to ramble.

authors note: remember when i said i might write smut if i was just so moved by an ask? well turns out my very first ask moved me. y'all are nasty, i love it. mike, of course, is a munch because why would he be anything else? i never, with a capital N, write smut so please bear with me if it sucks. i hope whoever requested this loves it! i wrote it instead of finishing my scientific article for bio so it better be decent hehe.

╔══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╗ ╚══ஓ๑♡๑ஓ══╝

The sound of the front door opening followed by heavy footsteps woke you up from where you were dozing off on the couch. You gazed at the clock on the side table near you and sure enough, 6:10 blinked back at you. Mike was finally home. You heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, most likely shedding his work vest and hanging his keys on the little hook by the door.

You yawned, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up on the couch. The blanket you used to cover yourself falling to pool around your waist. Mike finally made his way to the living room, sitting on the couch with a soft grunt. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice rough from lack of use. “Abby eat anything?”

“Yeah, a little,” You mutter back through a barely concealed yawn, head lolling to rest on the back of the couch. “You know how she is.”

He hums in acknowledgement but stays silent apart from that, keeping his gaze trained on the infomercial playing on TV. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You sit up even further on the couch, leaning against the arm rest facing Mike. The blue/green hue of the TV bathed him in light, his hair was unruly with curls sticking out at awkward angles. He had deep bags under his eyes. Just as you thought about getting up to take off, he spoke up again. 

“I promise I’ll get you the money,” he says softly, not taking his eyes off the TV, “I…I just need some time.”

You scoff in mock annoyance, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Mike, you know I don’t care about the money. I don’t mind doing this for you.” You reply, nudging his knee with your foot softly then just leaving it perched on his lap.

Mike finally turns to look at you, there's a strange look on his face that you can’t quite place, but you give him a small smile all the same. He stares at you for a few beats, you can practically see the gears turning in his head. 

“You deserve something,” he whispers, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You do so much for me, it’s only fair.” As he speaks, he slowly moves his hand off the couch to your ankle still resting on his thigh, he starts rubbing slow circles over the skin there. His eyes never left yours as he touched you, a very obvious question in them. Asking if you wanted this.

Heat instantly rushed to your belly, cheeks turning a light shade of red at his touch. You’d always thought Mike was attractive, but you never would have imagined he’d want to be anything more than friends. Since he was already so busy with taking care of Abby and his hellish new job.

You swallow once before speaking, your throat feeling dry all of a sudden. “What are you suggesting?” You ask so softly, wondering if he even heard you. Mikes’ fingers stop in favor of trailing his hand up your calf in a featherlight touch, disappearing under the blanket to seek out more of your soft skin. Your heart is beating so fast you think you might die, the sound of it echoing in your ears loudly. 

Mike's big brown eyes stare into yours with a newfound intensity, visibly shocked that you're reacting so viscerally to his touch, his pupils are blown to hell. Chocolate brown being swallowed by black.  His tongue coming out to sweep over his top lip.

“How about you,” he says slowly, scooting closer to you on the small couch. He crowds into your personal space like he belongs there. Mike’s lips inches away from yours. He smells like old leather and dust from being cramped in the security office at Freddy’s. Your chest heaves as your eyes flit back and forth from his eyes to his lips. Seconds drag by like hours as you painstakingly wait for him to finish his sentence. “Stay right there while I make you feel good.” He finally says, his breath fanning over your face hotly. You can’t even speak, afraid of how desperate you might sound, just nodding your head roughly, not looking away from his hungry gaze.

Mike’s hand runs up your leg quickly after you give him the green-light, slipping further under the blanket and higher up your leg until he reaches his destination. He rubs you gently through your shorts, your breath hitches sharply at what should be just a simple touch, but you’re still so worked up from earlier that it feels ten times more extreme. You grasp the blanket still strewn over your lap tightly in your fists, it's the only thing keeping you from seeing Mike’s hand at work between your legs.

Mike reacts to touching you for the first time like he can feel it too. His breath stutters out of his chest, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your already wet folds through your thin cotton sleeping shorts. “Fuck.” He breathes out quietly, so quietly you doubt he even meant to say it out loud. He opens his eyes again, breathing slightly rougher as he stares at you through his arousal induced haze and heavy eyelids. 

Seeing your face must spur him on because he starts rubbing with more fervor than before, his clever fingers applying more pressure making you moan softly. You cut yourself off quickly, eyes darting down the hall to Abby's bedroom door. It's still closed, there's no light leaking through the crack between it and the floor.

"Shit, Mike." You whine quietly.

Mike groans softly at the sound of his name leaving your lips, body trembling slightly with the feeling. Suddenly he wrenches his hand out from under the blanket, and rips it off your lap frantically. You gasp sharply at the cool air breaking through the bubble of warmth the blanket provided, involuntarily closing your legs.

Mike pushes up from his position on the couch next to you, knee walking over so he's kneeling in-front of your clenched thighs. You're still slightly sprawled across the cushions, leaning on the arm of the couch.

"Do you know how crazy you make me?" He asks roughly, putting both his hands on your still closed knees. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to answer him, after a few moments you finally manage a faint shake of your head.

"No?" He asks, tilting his head to the left slightly. "Let me show you then."

Mike grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him, and leads your hand down into his lap. Your breath catches in your throat when he places your hand directly over his clothed erection, but it gets drowned out by Mike's louder whine thanks to you touching him for the first time. You drag your eyes downward, his dark grey sweatpants leave little to the imagination. He got more worked up touching you than you first thought, if the wet patch forming near the tip of his hard-on was anything to go by.

As soon as you started to rub him with purpose, Mike grabbed your wrist, halting your efforts. "No," He said breathlessly, practically panting. "No, this is for you tonight. Just wanna focus on you."

He let go of your wrist, turning his head in your direction. Both of you failed to realize how close you'd gotten when he dragged you to him. Your noses practically touch when he turns, catching you both off guard. His eyes travel down to your lips, staring at how red and puffy they'd gotten from you biting them to muffle your moans.

"How sweet of you, Mike." You whisper, leaning in just a tad closer. He lets out a guttural groan and closes the distance between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own. He leans forward, gently guiding you to lay back on the couch. His body completely covering yours as the two of you makeout, his arms on either side of your head and his hips slotting against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against your cunt. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up to meet his.

Mike breaks the kiss with a whine, trying to muffle the noise by shoving his face in your neck. You bring your hands up to tangle in his curly hair, yanking it roughly as he starts littering kisses all along your collarbones. Nipping and sucking in-between his gasping little moans as you twist and pull his hair in your grip.

He tears his mouth away to stare up at you through his lashes, his lips are swollen and red. “Please,” He gasps out, his hips unconsciously grinding down into your thigh. “Let me eat you out. Please. Tell me I can, say I can.” He babbles, hips rutting faster every second you don’t answer him.

“Yes.” You exclaim as quietly as possible. “Do it, Mike. Eat me out.”

Mike’s whole body shudders at your words, eyes falling closed for a second before he quickly slides down your body, leaving an odd kiss here and there as he goes. He brings his hands up to grip the waistband of your shorts, pausing to take a single steadying breath, then he tugs them down along with your panties and tosses them aside. He stares down at you in awe for a good few moments before he lays on his stomach, right in front of your dripping cunt.

Mike kisses along the inside of your thighs for a bit, licking everywhere but where you want him to the most. “Thank you.” he mutters, tone way too earnest for the situation at hand but you don’t have much time to think about it before he’s diving face first into your thighs.

“Fuck!” You let your voice get way too loud in the quiet atmosphere of the house, but you can’t help it. You didn’t think Mike had lots of experience because of some late night drunken talks before, but he was either lying or holding out. He works his tongue expertly along every inch of you. Every swirl, flick, or suck has you catapulting to the edge way faster than you’d imagined.

It doesn't help that Mike keeps letting out these noises. Small needy whines or deep guttural groans that you can feel. He’s moaning like he’s the one getting head, unashamed and authentic. It’s so fucking sexy.

“Shit Mike, I’m close. I’m so close.” You whisper too quietly for him to hear with his head trapped between your thighs, but it doesn’t matter. Mike brings his thumb up to lightly circle your clit as he laps against your entrance, and you're gone.

Your thighs shake as you release, grabbing on Mike’s hair for dear life as you go through the most intense orgasm ever. He moans into your cunt, working you through the aftershocks. He laves his tongue along you until the overstimulation gets to be too much and you drag his face away by his hair.

He sits up, the bottom half of his face covered in spit and slick. That visual alone is almost enough to get you ready for round two. It’s silent except for the heavy breathing coming from you both.

After he catches his breath, Mike retrieves the blanket from behind his back somewhere to cover the lower half of your body. Your thighs are still shaking as he lays next to you, it’s a tight squeeze but neither of you seem to mind. He kisses the side of your face sweetly, throwing his arm around your waist to pull you in even closer.

You finally regain enough conscience to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off?” You ask, “I mean I can’t feel my legs but I’m sure we could think of something.” Mike only laughs quietly, shaking his head. “Maybe next time, this was about you.” He said, beginning to rub his fingers back and forth on your hip. “Plus I, uh, I already sort of…” He trails off, a flush forming on his cheeks.

It took you a second to realize what he was saying, but when it clicked you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your mouth. You lifted up the blanket covering the two of you, and sure enough Mike had an impressive wet patch seeping through his sweats.

He pinches your hip lightly, offended by your giggling. “Don’t laugh at me,” He complains with a smile, yanking the blanket back up. “I couldn’t help it.”

You stifle another laugh to the best of your ability, though your shoulders still shake ever so slightly. You turn your head to press a kiss to his lips. It’s different from the previous kisses you shared tonight. It’s slower and softer, full of a new emotion that you both feel, but know that it can wait to be talked about later. For now you’re both just basking in the afterglow.

You break the kiss first, pulling back only slightly to lean your forehead against his. You both smile at each other for a second.

“Okay,” You give in, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from his face. “But believe that tomorrow is all about you.”

[sapphiresandferrari]

His sweet girl

Summary: Aemond catches feelings for one of the girls at the brothel and his brother, Aegon, almost ruined everything

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x ocf!reader

Warnings: emotionally constipated Aemond, cunt Aegon, implied smut, lactation kink if you squint, fluff

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: Hello everyone, I'm Rosie and this is my first fic ever

Likes, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated, feel free to give me advices or suggestion, just be polite

English is NOT my first language, so apologies if there are any mistakes

Gif credits: @aegonx

Enjoy 🫶🏻

Aemond doesn’t know exactly when se became so important to him.

One night he went to the brothel for his usual service, the last weeks has been hectic, everything was overwhelming, his father’s death, Aegon’s coronation and Luke’s death, so he had to find a way to release the stress that it wasn’t training with ser Criston Cole.

So, when he arrived at the pleasure house, he thought that Madame Sylvi was waiting for him like she usually did for the last weeks, instead, one of the servants informed him that Madame was unavailable for that night, but that she had chosen another girl that would satisfy him as much as she did.

Hearing those words, made him want to turn around and leave, not comfortable with the idea of opening himself with a different woman than the one he was used to, yet something inside of him didn’t want to leave, he thought that if Madame Sylvi has personally chosen this girl, then maybe he should’ve give it a shot and try, see how it was.

After all, she knew him and his needs, especially with all the times they laid together, so he decided to trust her judgement, and let the servant guiding him to the secluded area prepared for him.

Once he moved the curtain, he found a girl, no more than few years older than him, laying on the bed, surrounded by pillows and candles: she was wearing a sheer robe, her hair down, thick and long dark locks were covering her, in her eyes an expression he was having a hard time to decipher, a mix of excitement and fear.

She was staring at him, taking her time to admire the beautiful and stoic man in front of her, he was exactly as the girls at the brothel and the small folk described him: his long silver hair, his purple eye, his fierce aura, he was a mesmerising sight.

As he approached her, he thought that he never saw her before at the brothel, he was trying to remember her small face but he simply couldn’t so he figured that she might be a new addiction there, yet if Sylvi chose her specifically, this means she wasn’t someone new.

He started to undress slowly, taking his time to look at the girl in front of him, her appearance was pleasant, she wasn’t exactly what he was searching, but she still had something magnetic in herself, she had a soft body, with plump breasts and wide hips, her body was different from the one of Madame, yet she still had something comforting that made him at ease right away.

She stood up, taking few steps and stopping in front of him, slightly bowing her head “good evening, my prince, Madame Sylvi apologise that she can’t serve you tonight, but she thought I might be a good enough substitute for you tonight”.

She extended a hand for him, which he took after few moments of silent, noticing how small it was compared to his, slowly walking him to the bed in the middle of the room.

“I’ve never saw you before, when did you start working here?”, he asked, curious to see if his assumption was correct

“Oh, I don’t exactly work here, my prince. My father sold me to Madame when I was a child and she thought I was too young to work here, so she kinda raised me like a daughter, usually I stay upstairs or I serve refreshments, I only work when she specifically asks me to”

So, she wasn’t a whore, not entirely at least, and this awakened something inside of him, he started wondering how many men she slept with, how many she pleased, if she was indeed able to please him as she said.

“Did you sleep with many men before? Are you sure you can serve me properly, child?”

“Not many men, but I’m sure you’ll be very satisfied my prince, and if you don’t trust my words, trust Madame’s judgement”

And so he did, and while he was thrusting inside her soft and warm flesh, he thought how different she was than Sylvi, how tight and wet she was, how her whimpers and moans were shy, how full she was making him feel.

He stayed there after he came, his head placed on her soft breasts, her hands caressing his hair and forehead, their breaths steady, her heartbeat calming, he felt well, satisfied with her service, his thoughts and troubles away for the time she was embracing him.

He told her about his worries, about his dreams, and what shocked him the most, was that she wasn’t afraid to tell him what she was thinking: she spoke calmly, without fear, but still in a respectful manner, not wanting to disrespect him nor his family, it was a rare thing, usually people lie to him or tells him half truth in order to not upset him, Sylvi included.

When he came back evenings after, he hoped to find her again, and he was slightly disappointed to see that Sylvi was waiting for him and not her once again.

Madame realised it too, she could feel a shift in his behaviour, at first thinking it was because of everything it was happening with the war and his family, but when he asked her where she was, her doubts became certainty.

“You don’t want my services anymore, my prince?”, she asked as they laid together after their highs, his head on her lap, curled up like a babe.

“Is not that, I like you and you help me a lot, but it was different with her, she understands me, she is not afraid to tell me the truth and actually gives me advises, she listens carefully and tells me what she thinks, it is a rare thing nowadays, everyone too scared to offend me and have me lose my patience

That’s why I want her to serve me from now on, you were good to me, but I think I found a better match”.

Sylvi wasn’t too pleased about this decision, she enjoyed the evenings with the prince, he treated her with respect, making her feel desired and appreciated, but he was still a prince, and if he didn’t want her services anymore, she had to accept it and move on, at the end of the day, he was still a paying costumer like everybody else, and her last goal was to please him, whether it happened personally or not.

Aemond kept going to the brothel almost every night, gently fucking her and then laying on the bed, his head on her chest, talking about his days, about his dysfunctional family, his plans for the war, and she stayed there, listening to him and caressing his head, and when he wasn’t talking, he was listening to her, talking about the books she was reading or about something she did that day, his lips sucking on one of her nipples lazily, eyes closed, eyepatch discharged somewhere on the bed, hand kneading the soft flesh of her hips.

He loved those moments, he felt at peace, somehow invincible, wondering if he will ever feel like this with another woman, but deep down knowing that no noble woman would be so understanding of him, especially not his betrothed.

It was during one of these nights that his brother, Aegon, had found him, ruining the only good thing he had in his life, Vhagar excluded.

They were there, entangled after their highs, the comfort of her arms making him feel so well, when his drunk brother opened the curtain, revealing himself to him and his mates, not wasting a second to humiliate him.

Aemond immediately got up, sitting there, looking somewhere on the floor, trying to steady his breath, listening to his brother rambling about him “fucking her like a hound”, watching her trying to cover herself for the embarrassment, shielding her body from his brother’s eyes.

He decided to leave, being too angry and humiliated, his brother rambling about searching for Madame to “make a man out of one of the white cloaks” but he found a better amusement after he saw his brother there

“You can have her, brother, one whore is as good as another” he said before taking his leave, the look of disappointment and heartbreaking in her face.

He couldn’t sleep that night, he kept seeing her disappointed face over and over again.

He knew he hurt her, that she had no fault for what happened, his brother was a drunken cunt, and she had to suffer the consequences for his stupid actions.

For days he contemplated about going there and apologise, explaining that he was not expecting for his brother be there, that he hasn’t gone to the brothel in years and he thought it was a safe space for him, away from his brother’s mess, yet he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t go there, relieving the memory of that night again.

In the end he decided to go, he was longing her touch, her softness, her sweetness, ha had to admit to himself (with an enormous amount of strength) that he needed her, so he went there one morning, when he knew anyone would’ve gone there and disturb them.

As he walked the street of silk, he kept thinking about what he wanted to tell her, trying to find the words to explain to her that he was sorry, that he understood if she didn’t want to be with him ever, but that he was still hoping for her forgiveness, since she knew how complicated his relationship with his brother was.

He knocked on the door, Sylvi opening it as he thought, looking at him hostilely

“What are you doing here, my prince”

“You know what I’m doing here, I want to speak with her”

“You hurt her, deeply, I don’t know if she wants to see you”

“Just…just ask her, please? I will leave if she does not want to speak with me”

Madame Sylvi looked at him one last time, before moving towards the rooms upstairs, allowing him to enter the brothel.

She came back a while back, telling him that he can go talk to her, but also to be quick, she didn’t want to give him too much time, she was very hurt by his actions.

He went upstairs, anxious and excited, wanting nothing more than explaining to her, his heart beating fast and hard in his chest at the thought of seeing her sweet face again.

His sweet girl, sited on the bed, a book between her hands, looking beautiful with the sun light, certainly different from the candlelight he was used to

“Good morrow, I know my visit is…unexpected, but I had to come, I had to talk to you”

“Good morrow, talk then, but make it quick, I will have to get ready for work soon, I have clients to take care of”

“Clients? I thought you weren’t fully working at the brothel, I don’t understand”

“After what happened that night, your brother’s guard told everyone how good I was, so a lot of men asked for me and Madame couldn’t refuse them, so now I work full time”

“I’m sorry, sweet girl, I really am, I didn’t want to treat you in such a way” he walked towards her, sitting slowly on the bed besides her, taking her hands on his and leaving some kisses on them “I swear I wish I said something that night, but my pride took the best of me; my brother was there, mocking me like he did when we were children, I couldn’t stay any longer.

Forgive me, sweet girl, you’re the only one I didn’t wish to hurt that night, yet you’re the one who suffered for my lack of temperament”

She stayed there, their hands still entwined, listening to his pleadings, wondering what was the best thing to do, reminding herself that he hurt her deeply, but also that he loved this man so much, that she couldn’t stay away from him any longer.

She kissed him while he was still talking, needing to feel his lips on hers once again, his hands on her once again, his cock deep inside her, feeling her to the brim with his seed, making her his and his only.

As he thrusts inside her, hips snapping, his hands kneading the soft flesh of her hips, they never felt so good in their life, so at peace, so happy.

They kissed and bit and marks each other, and in Aemond’s mind, the only thought was that she was his and he wasn’t going to let any man take her from him, the only good thing in his life.

She was his sweet girl, only his.

[maideninorange]

Well, they weren't wrong. Granted, Tsugumi wouldn't usually describe "looking like a walking corpse" to be "better", but then again, they've never been resurrected either. Just seeing Iyozane back up to their lively self after all the sickness and pain was a major improvement, all things considered.

But while they meant it as a small joke, Iyozane had the truth and the lie switched around. The aura of Iyozane's magic was no longer a dull, everpresent hum of shallow waves, but a crashing tide that chills them to their bones (literally; the temperature of the room had plummeted the moment they walked in). Their place in the hierarchy has changed. Newborn youkai, Their instincts told them.

And while Fumikado, still that themself, may not realize it, they definitely sensed it too, going by their loud gasp.

"Iyozaneee, you have fangs now!"

Iyozane's eyes widened slightly, a couple fingers pressing into their sunken cheek as if to check. Those fingers soon waved away their concerns, "Fangs? Oh don't be ridiculous! I feel like I could run a marathon, not eat somebody!"

"Really?! I could've sworn you smelled different! More like a youkai!" Fumikado took a step forward, folding their arms as their nostrils flared, inhaling deeply.

"Nope! Just little old me here! Nothing strange at all!" Iyozane let out a nervous chuckle, their lips parting just enough to reveal they did, in fact, have fangs now, "Although I actually don't feel too hungry right now. Strange, huh?"

O' trust me, ya will soon enough, Tsugumi wanted to say, but didn't. It's only a matter of time before Iyozane realizes their body is their own unique magic, not the fleshy, very unmagical vessel humans were supposed to have. And hopefully, that moment shall be when they knick their lip on their fangs or find they no longer need to breathe, like all undead. Preferably before they had the chance to go feral, lost in the red haze of starvation, and do something they'll regret. Tsugumi wouldn't wish that on anybody.

But perhaps out of some sentiment, perhaps because they wished to spare themself a headache and lecture, Tsugumi chose to do nothing to correct this, let them assume their humanity wasn't anything more than uncanny mask now. Fumikado and Iyozane looked so... stupidly happy and relieved that shattering it felt more than a little cruel. And in Tsugumi's long life, this revelation tends to bring human turned youkai to tears.

So for now, Tsugumi drank their tea quietly, observing ans listening to the loud excited banter of their bosses. But deep down, this happiness is transient and they'll have to break it to them. Newborn youkai are especially unstable, after all. They could only wonder when.

“What happened to you?”

“I thought I became a monster at first. Turns out I was just getting better.”

[cherryredcheol]

"lovie"

tldr: all the ways jeonghan uses your nickname a/n: but mom, i love him. (there is a makeout scene in this...)

pesters: but only in good fun

“lovie,” he coos at you, encouraged by the blush on your cheeks. he could tell by the look in your eyes, you were embarrassed but not upset. you hadn’t thought anything of it when he suggested you wear the green hoodie in your closet to visit him and the members in the practice room. 

“need to let everyone know we’re together?” he couldn’t help but poke fun at you as you walked into the room wearing a matching hoodie to his. you had no knowledge he had even worn the offending garment today. if you had, you wouldn’t be in yours, especially not in front of his members and their staff.  

“i’m pretty sure everyone already knows.” his teasing didn’t let up, even as he wrapped his arms around you, pleased to see you had fallen right into his trap. you faintly heard joshua scoff somewhere behind you, too focused on the man in front of you to really give him any attention, “you guys are gross.” 

whispers: when he wants to check in

“lovie,” his whisper pulls you from your thoughts. “i don’t think that pork will come back to life no matter how hard you stare at it. mingyu grilled it really well.” you rolled your eyes but turned to look at him nonetheless. he looked awfully handsome under the dim light of the bbq restaurant. he always looked handsome, you supposed. 

“are you okay?” he was still whispering. wanted to keep this moment as private as possible so you could speak freely. he knew dinner with his members could be a lot, especially after a long day at work. 

“you can tell me if you want to go. you know i’ll never pass up an opportunity to go home with you.” his eye dropped in a wink, and this time you smiled when you rolled your eyes. going home with him did kind of sound like a good idea…

breathes: in between kisses

“lovie,” it escapes him like a sigh, slipping out between you two in a heated moment. you were on his lap, completely blocking his view of the tv, and in the back of his mind he knows he wanted to see this one but he couldn’t bring himself to care. not with the way he is consumed with the feeling of your weight pressing on him, your warmth almost burning his skin even through layers of clothes. 

when you pull back and look at him, he swears he feels his heart skip a beat. face oily and bare from the skin care you had completed before joining him on the couch for movie night, he’s never thought you more beautiful. he can feel your lip balm on and around his lips, a reminder you’d been there.

“whatever you’re doing, it’s working lovie,” he praises. “you’re practically glowing.” if he thought you were radiant before, you beamed under his praise. the last thing he saw before his eyes closed to continue kissing you was your toothy grin. 

giggles: behind cupped hands

“lovie,” he was snickering when he pulled you into a secluded corner of seungchoel’s apartment. game night was in full swing and you had just started the third round of mafia. while the rest of the members were distracted by mingyu and soonyoung’s bickering, he whisked you away, his mischievous smirk on his face. 

“can you keep a secret?” he was talking in hushed tones, hiding his mouth behind his hands to avoid prying eyes. when you nodded in confirmation, he leaned impossibly closer, breath tickling your ear. 

“i’m the mafia.” it took everything in you to keep your face neutral. you didn’t want to blow him in after he spilled such a big secret. it warmed your heart that he trusted you enough to tell you his role in the game. “if you tell anyone, i’ll kill you next.” 

scrawls: on a post-it

“lovie,” the note brought heat to your cheeks. you really hoped your coworker at the desk across from yours didn’t notice. when had he even slipped this in? you packed your own lunch and he wasn’t even awake when you left for your shift this morning, still snuggled beneath your comforter when you pulled your shoes on and headed out the door. 

“i miss you. hope you’re having a good day!” his neat handwriting brought a smile to your face. this wasn’t the first time he had snuck a note into your lunchbox, but he didn’t do it often so this was really a treat. and on a friday, too! what a great way to end the week. 

“i can’t wait to spend the weekend with you.” you shared the sentiment. looking forward to a free weekend with no plans or schedules. free to rot in your bed for the next two days with your beloved. “love you!” 

[coldfanbou]

New Hunger

I think Hanni's got an addictive personality in this fic. Let's see what happens. I'd like to thank @i-am-lifeform24 for the idea. maybe I make part 2 idk

Length: 2.6K

Hanni X Mreader

Hanni stared in disbelief at the bright red marking on her paper, “C.” Her heart dropped, and as soon as class was over, she went straight to her professor. “Miss Park! Why did I get a C on my assignment?” 

The older woman turned to Hanni, her mind returning to Hanni’s paper. “If I recall correctly…” Miss Park taps her cheek, considering how to phrase her answer, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” She tells Hanni bluntly. “Hanni, be honest with me; you haven’t had sex before, right?”

“I-well, I…no.” She hangs her head, feeling embarrassed.

Miss Park takes a long breath and places her hand on Hanni’s shoulder. “Hanni, you understand how the body works, but you don’t understand the emotions behind it. My class is just as much about what our bodies do and how they interact as the emotions and sensations behind them. My suggestion to you is to have sex with someone. It will open your eyes to what I’m trying to teach, and if you want to, you can revise your paper and turn it in after our midterm.” Miss Park pats Hanni’s shoulder and smiles at the younger woman. “Sex is a great part of our lives, and you’re young. You should see what you’re missing out on. Find someone you trust.” She says before turning around and leaving Hanni in the classroom.

There’s a pit in Hanni’s stomach as she considers her professor’s words. “Is there really something I’m missing?” She asks herself before walking outside. She didn’t think there was anything she was missing out on. She looked at her paper again, the red C mocking her. Hanni considered who she should talk to when she remembered you were visiting the campus. She pulled out her phone and dialed your number, her heart beating quickly as the first and second rings passed. 

“Hello?”

“Hey! I know you’re visiting my campus. Are you busy?”

“No, not really. I found the esports club, and I’m in their club room if you want to come and find me.”

“Just meet me in the center quad.” She shouts, her annoyed tone coming through clearly.

“Sheesh, alright, ms. pushy.” You say before hanging up and leaving for the quad. You find Hanni waiting for you on one of the benches. When she spots you, she stands up and rushes over. “Hey, how have you been?” She says, all smiles.

You squint at her, “What do you want?” Hanni chuckled, “Hanni, I already know you want something. Out with it.”

Hanni purses her lips and digs the toe of her shoe into the ground. “It’s not something I can say out here; let’s go to my place,” Hanni says, taking your hand momentarily before letting it go out of nervousness. You try to make conversation with Hanni, but your efforts are in vain as she stays quiet throughout your walk to her room.

“Is something wrong?” you finally ask her. Hanni gives you a simple nod and looks through her bag, pulling out a key. 

“We’re here.” She says quietly, unlocking the door and heading inside. She shuts the door behind you and walks to her bed. Hanni’s space was small, with a little kitchen area by the entrance before you were immediately in her bedroom. You watch Hanni take a deep breath. “Okay, so this is what I need from you.” Hanni pauses and turns around, staring into your eyes, the brief silence deafening you both. As more seconds ticked by without a word, Hanni grew increasingly nervous before eventually blurting out what she needed to say.  “I need to have sex with you.” 

“You what?” You ask, your voice cracking as you wonder if you heard her right. 

“Please?” Hanni says, clasping her hands together. “I really need to pass a class, and you know I do my best work when I can get hands-on experience.” The desperation in her voice continues to rise. “Just once, that’s all I need, and we never have to do it again.”

You rub your temples, annoyed that you’re contemplating her wishes. “Okay, so this is for a class? How badly do you need to pass this class? A better question: why do you need to have sex?”

“Because my professor said I didn’t understand what she was trying to teach me, and I need to have it so I know better. I need this super badly. I held off on this class because I thought it would be easy and I could use it my last semester. My grades are perfect otherwise; I just need this. So, please?” Hanni grips your shirt, shaking it. “You’re the only one I trust.”

“Fuck, fine, I’ll help you out,” you tell her, not looking forward to being with her. “I can turn in my midterm before you have to finish yours, so let me finish what I have to, then we can meet.” 

Hanni wraps her arms around you, hugging you tightly. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She repeats, crying into your chest.

“C’mon Hanni, stop crying, you’re ruining my shirt.” You whine as she holds onto you, rubbing her head into your chest. You crane your neck back and sigh, knowing there is nothing you can do until Hanni decides to let you go. Eventually, Hanni lets go of you and changes the topic of conversation, steering you toward what things have been like since you went your separate ways after high school. You wonder if this was really the time to have this conversation before you both settle into a routine. 

When you were about to leave, Hanni grabbed your shirt and pulled it back. “Hey, um, is this going to be your first time too?” 

“Yeah, it is. It’ll be the first time for both of us, so you better study up.” You tell her as you begin walking out. “I’ll text you the details when I finish my midterms. Don’t forget to respond so we can find a time that works.”

“Yeah,” Hanni sits in her room, feeling a little better about still not having sex yet. She lays back in her bed, considering what studying up would be. She pulls up her phone, her fingers tapping away at the screen, stopping herself just before clicking enter. Hanni’s cheeks turned red as she pressed enter; it was going to be her first time watching porn. The homepage showed her more than she expected: dozens of dirty titles and screenshots. The sight did turn her on, though; Hanni felt her body tingle when she looked at a woman in the throes of pleasure. At that moment, something clicked inside Hanni. Hanni tapped on the search bar, though, looking up “How to have sex.” and clicking on the first video. Hanni immersed herself in the video, taking in every bit of information the woman on the screen provided. One video turned into two, then three. The next thing Hanni knew, she was lying on her bed naked, her sheets soaked.

Hanni couldn’t wait to talk to Miss Park the next time she had class. She sat in her seat, rubbing her legs together the entire time. When class was over, she rushed to Miss Park. “Oh, Hanni, just the girl I wanted to see.” Miss Park said with a smile. “I got a few things for you,” she said, pulling out a bag. “After our last talk, I thought it would be good to help you on your little journey.” Miss Park smiles at Hanni as she hands over the bag. “I hope you enjoy them; now I’ve got to go. I look forward to your improvements.” 

Hanni opened her mouth to say something, but Miss Park was out the door before she could. Hanni looked into the bag, reaching in and pulling out a box. She immediately dropped it back in after seeing it was a dildo. Hanni looks at the door before looking back into the gift bag.  She wrapped the string around her hand, ensuring no one could look inside. She rushed to her dorm and sat on her bed, pulling out the toy and looking through the rest of the bag. It had lube and other toys. Hanni opened one of the boxes, pulling out the dildo. She placed it on her lap as she put the box to the side. Grabbing it by the shaft, Hanni couldn’t help but feel nervous. She stared at it, contemplating what she should do next. The toy taunted Hanni, pushing her to act on her feelings. 

She rejected it, putting away the toy and hiding everything inside her bag. Hanni took a deep breath, sitting on the edge of her bed, her mind filling with thoughts of the toys. She began to touch herself, feeling her lower half get wet the longer she thought about the toys. It was all she could think about that night until she got your message. “I’m done with my midterm. When did you want to meet up?”

“Tomorrow.” She texted back. Hanni’s night was spent finalizing the few details of her rendezvous. 

Two days passed before you were finally able to meet with Hanni. She was losing control of herself as time got closer. She spent her time watching porn and playing with herself. The thought of the toys was in the back of her mind until she felt that her fingers weren’t enough anymore. She went into the bag, pulling out the dildo and the lube. In her haze, Hanni poured too much lube onto the dildo. She ran her hand along the shaft, trying to coat it evenly. She laid back, raising her hips as one of the videos she had watched said to, and pushed the dildo against her folds, moving inside herself slowly. A low guttural moan slowly filled the room as Hanni felt the dildo fill her cunt, her body stretching slightly around it. She was desperate for more; the pleasure she felt was like nothing else. She sped up the process, ramming the rest of the dildo inside herself and cumming. Hanni’s body tensed, her back arching and toes curling before the tension suddenly released, and a wave of euphoric pleasure washed over her. She lay in bed for a moment, her chest heaving as she recovered from her climax. Her body continued to get hotter, though, craving more. In time she was fucking herself crazy, pushing every in of the dildo inside her before eventually switching to the vibrator. Hanni turned herself onto her stomach and raised her hips as she slid the toy in and out of her cunt. Her dripping sex wanted more.

You knocked on her door, waiting for her to open it, when you heard, “It’s open!” You step inside the room, your senses bombarded by the sight and sound of Hanni. Her ass is raised toward you as she moves the toy deeper into her cunt. 

 “What took you so long? I need you,” she whispers. You’d never seen her act like this in all your years of knowing Hanni.” Hanni turns herself over and spreads her legs for you; her breathing is heavy as she tries to speak. “C’mon, take your clothes off so we can get started.” You pause and look around the room, noticing the used toy laid out and the bottle of lube. You put together what happened quickly after reading the label. The lube was laced with aphrodisiacs, and Hanni must’ve used it without noticing. 

Hanni grew impatient as you were figuring out what was happening. She got off the bed, wrapped her arms around your neck, and pulled you into a kiss. Her warm lips melted into yours as she ran her hand to your bulge. You give in to Hanni, stripping down and pushing her onto the bed. Hanni keeps her hands around your cock. They were slick and slid up and down your shaft quickly, making you groan her name. Hanni grinned, hearing you call her name. “Feels good, right?” She said with a giggle. “I don’t think that I can wait thought,” Hanni pointed your cock toward her entrance and rubbed the tip against her folds. “Hmm, it feels different.” She placed your cock between her lips and held her legs apart, “I want you to do it. Fuck me.” Hanni felt dirty uttering those words to you, but it was what she truly wanted. 

You push inside Hanni, her warm insides snuggly holding your cock as you push deeper into her. Hanni’s light moans filled the room as she felt your cock move inside her. It felt different than when she used a toy; it was much better. She never wanted you to pull out and wrap her legs around your waist. “So deep,” Hanni mumbles as you begin thrusting into her. You grip Hanni’s waist thrusting wildly as you enjoy your first pussy. Hanni’s walls clamp down on your cock when you’re deeper inside her, giving you the motivation to try and go as deep as possible. You press your lips against hers as your hands dig into her skin.

“I didn’t know you were such a slut,” You groan, not knowing what you were saying, both your mind and Hanni being lost in a haze of pleasure. Hanni’s moans grow louder as she listens to your degrading comment. For a reason, she didn’t know, it turned her on. 

“I’m a big slut,” she whimpered, egging you on to say more things about her. You degrade Hanni further, mentioning how she clung to you like a fleshlight or how she moaned. Every comment earned you louder moans. It wasn’t long before you came inside her, but neither one of you was done yet. You pulled out of Hanni and flipped her over, placing one hand on her shoulder and wrapping her long hair around the other. You tugged on the hair as you slammed yourself back inside her cunt. “Yes!” Hanni screamed, loving the treatment you gave her. Hanni felt alive, understanding what Miss Park meant by emotions and sensations. You tugged on her hair, and Hanni tightened around your cock; she was getting close to her orgasm. You press harder and drive your cock into Hanni, struggling to hold your own climax. Close to your orgasm, your grip on Hanni’s shoulder tightens. You bury yourself inside Hanni, cumming inside her. Hanni melts as she feels your cock throb and your semen pour into her. She cums on you, and her body goes limp. She crashes onto her bed, and you fall on her, trapping her. Hanni moans softly, focusing on the warm feeling inside her and the throbbing of your cock. 

You roll off Hanni and pull out. The empty feeling she has after leaves her wanting more. Now, knowing what sex was like, Hanni was craving it; the tingling sensation that coursed through her body was addicting. She straddled you and slipped your cock back inside. “Let’s go again,” she whispered. You and Hanni continued for two more rounds before your bodies gave out on you. You left early in the morning, a little sore from your fun with Hanni.

Hanni strolled into class the next day, a new energy blossoming within her. Miss Park noticed and, before class started, sat beside Hanni. “Looks like someone had finally got some experience. Was it good?” Hanni gave Miss Park a nod and smiled at her. “You know, if you ever want to explore some more, I’d be willing to help you.” Miss Park placed her hands on Hanni’s thigh, giving it a slight squeeze. “I wouldn’t mind playing with you a little at one of my parties.” She whispered into Hanni’s ear. 

Hanni smiled at her and nodded. “I’d like that, Miss Park.”

[thepowerofswayze]

college art donaldson !!!

maybe something about him , tashi , reader , and patrick all being in a friend group at while in college. maybe patrick comes down to visit tashi and suggest an idea where they drive down to the beach and rent a beach house for a few days or something. while they’re there tashi and patrick start arguing leaving reader and patrick alone.

change whatever if u need to but js anything with college art , please !!

so i took a million years and definitely wrote too much but. finally. FINALLY. thank you sm for this request, i hope you like it :)

☆

beach trip

pairing: art donaldson (challengers, 2024) / afab reader [gender not specified]

word count: 3.9K

warnings & info: 18+, afab reader, NOT beta read lol (but nothing of mine ever is), college era art my love, friends to lovers, art and reader swim in their underwear lol, reader wears a bra, reader likes swimming, first time together, oral sex (reader receiving), p in v sex, safe sex (condom moment), art is a munch

summary: A group beach weekend sounded great- until Tashi and Patrick spent the whole drive bickering and the whole first night moments from pouncing on each other. Looks like you and Art will have to keep each other company.

☆

“Don’t let him scare you, he’s shit at board games. And card games. Just like he’s shit at tennis.”

You just blinked, eyes darting to Patrick to see how he’d react to Tashi’s dig. The nervous laugh to your left let you know Art was just as unsure as you were.

When Patrick had come to visit Tashi and suggested all four of you take a trip to a rental beach house, you knew being in close quarters with the both of them for a full 3 days would be interesting, at the least. You weren’t about to pass up on the beach trip, though- not when Patrick was covering the rent.

What you didn’t know was that they would be argue-flirting the entire way there, and every moment since you’d all arrived. It made sense, though- between Tashi rooming with you, Patrick not having a room since he wasn’t a Stanford student, and his long stretches between visits, they hadn’t had any time alone in a little over 2 months.

Their flirting was always a little angry- little jabs and remarks that would have made you wince if you were the target. For them, it just made the other’s eyes linger on their partner's lips for a little too long.

Patrick licked his lips before he responded. “Do you ever talk about anything else?” He asked, a lazy half smile on his face.

Tashi’s comeback was almost immediate: “Not like you give me anything else to talk about.” She leaned back on her hands, eyes raking over him from top to bottom.

Patrick seemed to enjoy the scrutiny. He leaned forward, that lazy smirk changing into a playful grin. “Yeah? I got something I could give you right now.”

Alright. That was your sign to go.

When you turned to Art, brows raised, he was already looking at you. You glanced from him to the door and back. You knew Patrick and Tashi would be on each other any second now, whether you two left or not, and you really didn’t want to get caught up in it.

Art nodded.

Your “I think I’m gonna call it a night” and Art’s “Uh, me too” fell on deaf ears as you two scrambled out of the room. Art had barely shut the door behind himself before you could hear those two pounce on each other, the board game you’d been playing definitely scattered and forgotten.

It made you snicker, like a middle school boy. One glance at Art and he was laughing too, a hand over his mouth, his red stanford baseball cap the only thing keeping his hair from falling into his eyes as he shook.

More noises from the room- a crash, then the dull thud of something falling to the carpet. You winced through your grin, then made your way down the hall toward the front porch, beckoning Art to follow you.

Outside, you placed your arms on the railing, leaning entirely on the rickety wood. In the cool night air, you couldn’t hear your roommate and her boyfriend getting it on like animals. You didn’t blame them, even if the angry flirting style wasn’t for you. If you had a partner who was always away, you knew you’d jump on them the moment they were in sight.

You glanced over as Art joined you, mimicking your posture. You knew there was a point, early freshman year, when he’d liked Tashi. It was hard to ignore how his smile dropped when he’d watch Patrick and Tashi reunite, thinking no one was watching. And you always recognized how lost he looked when he stared at her while the three of you had lunch- after all, you looked at him the same way.

Recently, though- over the year and a half you’d known the three of them- he was easing up on it. His smiles lingered long after he thought everyone had looked away. He didn’t even notice when Tashi walked into the cafeteria until you waved her down to sit with you guys. And now, next to you, he was grinning at their antics instead of grimacing.

He seemed to be over it. If only you could be so lucky.

“Like… animals,” Art said, glancing over at you. You were caught so off guard, you didn’t even remember to pretend you hadn’t been staring.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” You laughed, grinning. “They definitely needed that. Did you hear them in the back of the car on the way down here?”

Art groaned. “Oh my god, I thought they were gonna go at it right there.” He brought his voice an octave higher, lifting his chin in an imitation of Tashi that could’ve also passed for royalty- what was the difference, really. “‘You eat like shit. No wonder you play the same.’”

Immediately, you dropped your voice, giving him a coy side smirk and raising one eyebrow. “‘I’ll tell you what I’d rather eat.’”

The two of you doubled over, howling in laughter. Then, another crash from inside. Escaping them was going to be harder than you thought.

“You wanna head down to the water?” Art asked.

“Sure,” you said, smiling wide when he gave you a mock bow and let you lead the way.

The roar of the waves was comforting as you got closer, sand covering your bare feet- neither of you remembered to grab shoes- and the salty air filling your nose. The walk was silent, and the few minutes you spent standing at the edge of the ocean was, too. You watched it reach out toward you, then retreat back into the glittering blue-black. At some point, you closed your eyes.

“I’ve never swam in the ocean.”

Your eyes snapped open. Art was still looking out at the water, head tilted like an inquisitive puppy. The wind fought to ruffle the few curls that peaked out from under his hat. “Never?” You asked.

Art shook his head. “We didn’t really go when I was a kid, and I was way too scared, anyway. Then when I went with friends it was more about beach volleyball and drinking than actually swimming.” He looked over at you, then laughed. “I’m guessing from your face right now, you must love swimming in the ocean.”

You closed your mouth, which you hadn’t realized had fallen open, and shook your head. “Do I?” His incredulous head shake made you smile. A beat of silence. “Are you still scared of it?”

He took a moment to answer, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know. Not too scared to try, I guess.”

“Alright, wanna try?”

Art just tilted his head at you. You gestured toward your clothes, then the ocean, then to him. You could see it in his face when he caught on. “I’m not going in alone.”

You only took a second to think about it before you were tugging your t-shirt off and tossing it on the sand between you two. Your shorts came soon after. You already had one foot in the water when Art called your name, laughing so hard he could barely say it.

You shrieked at the cold as it hit your stomach, then sunk down to your shoulders, getting the shock over with all together. When you turned back toward the sand, you saw a shirtless Art running toward you in his boxers, moonlight tracing his chest and shoulders. He still had that fucking hat on. It made you grin.

He didn’t shriek when he hit the water, but he did take a lengthy inhale. You watched as he held his nose, screwed his eyes shut, and dunked himself up to his head. His hat bobbed just above the surface, and you picked it up and put it on yourself.

When he came back up, he shook his head, wet hair sending droplets flying. Art grinned, wiping water from his eyes and pointing at the hat on your head. “Thief.”

You rolled your eyes. “Next time I’ll just let it float away then, idiot.” It only made him grin harder. You waved your arms back and forth through the water, the cold easier to ignore when you moved. “So?”

“Hm?”

“Still scared?”

Again, he thought about it for a moment. “No, actually. I think I’m okay.”

You hummed, bringing a finger to your chin in mock deep thought. “What if there are sharks? I think you should be scared of sharks, probably.”

“Nah.” Art shook his head. “The sharks should be afraid of me. I’m the scariest thing here.” He lifted his arms out of the water to flex comically, chin lifted in comical pride.

You laughed, splashing him, making him yelp. “Okay, sure, macho man.”

“What, don’t believe me?”

You shrugged, a smirk tugging at your lips.

Before you knew it, Art had his arms around your middle, lifting you and dunking you in the water back first, like a baptism. You had all of two seconds to scream, then shut your eyes and mouth. He let you up immediately, wading away from you and toward the sand as you resurfaced, spluttering.

“Donaldson!” you shouted, though your serious tone was undermined by your beaming face. Somehow, his hat stayed on your head.

He’d gotten a little ways away from you, but you still had the advantage- you swam in the ocean every chance you got.

You surged toward him, biting back a cackle as his eyes widened in fear. You grabbed his shoulders, pushing off him and shoving him under the waves. He stayed under for a second- then two, then three, until you vaguely started to worry- before jumping out in front of you, wrapping his arms around your torso and making you all but scream.

“Holy shit!” You were giggling, wrapping your arms around Art’s neck for stability. “Isn’t it fun in here? You’ve been missing out.”

He didn’t respond for a moment, so you met his eyes. You hadn’t realized how close you were. It seemed like the realization was hitting him, too, as his eyes scanned your face. He glanced from your eyes to your lips and back. Despite the breeze and the water, your skin was suddenly very warm. You could feel every point where his body touched yours.

You knew what was happening- you could sense it. At least, you were pretty sure you knew. It’s the only thing that could come next, right?

… Maybe you were reading it wrong.

You hesitated. Then, suddenly, “God, it’s cold,” and you kicked off of him to dunk yourself in the water one more time, resurfacing a couple steps away and wading onto shore. When you looked back at him, you could almost convince yourself that the same disappointment that filled your chest was written on his face. “Come on!” You called cheerfully, and Art started after you, replacing the look with an amused smile.

You both put your clothes back on, if only to shield yourselves from some of the breeze on the short walk back. You were both silent as you neared the house, as you walked down the halls. Neither of you even remarked on how Tashi and Patrick had finally gone silent. When Art got to his door and stopped, though, you turned to him.

“Goodnight,” you said, willing your voice to sound less defeated than you felt. Your hands fiddled with the hem of your soaked shirt.

Art nodded. That look was back in his eyes, the one that looked just how you felt. “Goodnight.”

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

The shower was much needed and very welcomed. You took your time getting sand off of you as best as you could, working the water into your hair (you’d wash it tomorrow- you weren’t going through that whole workout this late). When you stepped out of the hot water, toweling yourself off, your eyes caught on the red Stanford baseball cap on the sink counter. You bit your lip and walked past it, into the connecting bedroom you were calling yours for the weekend.

Pajamas on, you sat at the edge of your bed, scrunching your hair mostly dry with a spare t-shirt you’d packed just for that. The crash of the ocean enveloped you through the open window.

You thought about it. About his arms around you and his chest against yours. About the way he’d looked at you and you’d known exactly what he was going to do. About his face when you’d second guessed yourself and ran away.

Fuck. Why did you run away?

When you got up and walked to the door, you grabbed the hat from the bathroom counter. You told yourself you were only going to return it, but something in the back of your mind laughed at your excuse.

You had just gotten to the door, lifting a hesitant hand to knock, when it swung open and you were met with a flushed, freshly showered, boxers-and-t-shirt clad Art Donaldson.

The two of you stared for a moment. You didn’t see the disappointment in his eyes anymore, but there was still something there. You were sure it was on your face, too.

You cleared your throat. “Hat,” you said, intelligently.

Art glanced at the hat in your slightly raised hand, then nodded. His eyes came back up to meet yours, then darted down to your lips. He opened his mouth and hesitated. “Do you wanna-”

You pushed forward, pressing your lips to his for just a moment, before pulling back, searching his eyes. He didn’t give you too long to think about what you’d just done, his hands flying to your waist, pulling you back toward him and kissing you again. Hard.

Art yanked you into the room, and you dropped the hat, the door shutting as he pushed you up against it. His hands found their way under your sleep shirt, settling on your bare waist, and one of yours cupped his cheek while the other thread through his hair. You tugged gently at the curls, and he sighed your name into your mouth.

You pulled back just long enough to murmur, “Bed?”

He obliged, grabbing your hand to lead you to the corner bed. His rental room was similar to yours, save for a warm, dull bedside lamp on, barely illuminating the room.

You both crawled onto the bed on your knees, leaning forward to pick up where you’d left. Art’s hands played with the hem of your shirt and you helped him lift it off of you. His shirt went next. He cupped your breasts tentatively, thumbs brushing over your nipples, his face watching yours like he wanted to see if he was doing this right. You pulled him back in for another kiss and bit his lip. He groaned.

“Lay back,” he murmured against your mouth.

You did as told, scooting up the bed and falling into his pillows. They smelled mostly of the air freshener the owner of the beach house had doused it with, but the vague hint of Art’s cologne permeated the room.

He kissed you again, holding himself up over you. He placed kisses down your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone. As one of his hands came to rest between your legs, pressing against you between your pants and underwear, he placed his mouth on one of your nipples. He bit at it gently, sucking immediately to make up for the hurt and moving his hand against you. Your breath stuttered and grew heavy, lips parting, as he moved to your other nipple.

Art pressed a kiss to your stomach next, trailing lower, eyes closed. You watched as he murmured against your skin, “You don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this.”

“Yeah?” ‘Sex with me or eating me out specifically?’ you wanted to ask. Instead, you bit your lip and watched him hook his fingers into the waistband of your pants and underwear, pulling them down together and tossing them on the floor. He pressed alternating kisses to each of your thighs, inching closer and closer. You could barely hear your voice when you asked, “Why didn’t you do anything?”

A shiver ran through you, partially from the vulnerability and cool air, partially from the way Art was looking at you- reverent. Devout. “I couldn’t imagine I’d be lucky enough.”

You wanted to say something back- something clever and sweet to let him know just how easily he could have had you- but his mouth was on you in less than a second, and all that you could do was let out an odd cross between a huff and a whine.

His tongue pressed flat against you- eager, almost desperate, like you were an oasis in the desert. His nose bumped your clit as he bobbed his head, switching between long strokes and focusing on sucking your clit. “Shit,” you whispered, your hand threading through his hair. He fell into a rhythm, the consistent vulgar noises of his mouth against you filling the room alongside your gasps and whines.

When his tongue pushed into you, your eyes screwed shut. “Fuck, Art,” you said, barely gripping his hair and faintly hoping that it wasn’t painful for him. He only whined at his name, a desperate noise, and pushed his face impossibly deeper. “I’ll- I’ll come if you keep-” You cut yourself off with a groan.

Art pulled back just enough to say, “I want you to. Please, let me taste it.” Immediately, his mouth was back on you, like he couldn’t keep himself away for long. You would’ve playfully chided him for being so filthy had you not been busy gripping his hair and letting curses fly.

You let your head fall back, hips rolling on their own accord, and he only adapted and let you ride his face and bring yourself to the edge. You came with a loud cry, thighs pressing in on his head, back lifting just slightly off the bed. Art didn’t back off as your high subsided, continuing until you’d come down and were laying there, panting.

You pushed yourself up to a sitting position, then pulled Art back up onto the bed. His eyes were glossy, much like the majority of his face, covered in you and his own spit. You put your hands on his cheeks, ignoring the sticky feeling and pulling him in for a rough kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue.

One of your hands wandered, trailing down his chest and coming to rest at the front of his boxers, palming him. He groaned.

“I wanna fuck you,” you said, pulling away to look him in the eye.

Art huffed a laugh. “You can’t say that to me. I’m not gonna last at all.”

That caught you off guard, and you laughed. “What?”

He shrugged coyly, almost smug as if his cheeks weren’t still flushed and glistening from his time spent between your legs. “I’m, like, halfway there already.”

Just from eating you out and a little petting? That was… surprisingly hot.

You told him as much, relishing in how deeply he flushed and how widely he grinned. You made him lie back on the bed. “Condoms?” You asked.

He nodded toward his bedside, to the backpack leaning against the nightstand. You raised an eyebrow at him before leaning off the bed to grab one. All he offered you was a shy smile.

You kissed his chest, making your way down to his waistband, and he watched, propped up on his elbows, like he was sure if he took his eyes off you you’d disappear. When you pulled down his boxers and tossed them aside, you wasted no time ripping the condom wrapper open and rolling it on.

Getting up on your knees, you hovered over him and lined your hips up with his. You gave him a quick glance. “This okay?”

He nodded, eagerly, and you could’ve broken at the sight. You sank onto him, gasping slightly at the sensation. Art watched your face, open mouthed, eyes never leaving yours. You almost wanted to look away, but the intensity was riveting.

With him now fully in you, you gave yourself a moment to adjust, hands settling on his chest as he gripped your thighs. You gave your hips an experimental push forward.

Art let out a groan that sounded somewhat like “Fuck” and “Ugh” put together. You repeated the motion, your mouth opening softly as you watched his eyes flutter open and shut. It was like he was struggling between giving into the feeling and watching you.

You increased your pace, head falling forward as you lifted your hips with each push. Art’s hands moved to grip your ass, eyes focused on you, little pants and whimpers escaping him as you moved. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured. You would’ve responded in kind, but he bucked his hips moments after and your head fell back with a moan.

With your hands now supporting you from behind, gripping the sheets, you rolled your hips with each lift. Art let out a particularly pathetic whine, and you grinned through your heavy breathing, gazing at him with heavily lidded eyes. “Close?” He nodded, his expression so desperate that you were sure he was right on the edge. You could feel yourself right behind him. “Cum for me then,” you panted.

Art groaned, one hand moving to press sloppy circles against your clit. You forced yourself to keep your eyes open, wanting to see his face as his orgasm hit him. His eyebrows were furrowed, lips parted as he panted and he whimpered. When his orgasm came, his eyes shut and he cried out, gripping you tightly and continuing to rub your clit, hips bucking into you involuntarily. You were only a second behind, “Fuck, Art!” the only thing you could say before your hips stuttered and your second orgasm washed over you.

Slowly, you came to a stop, panting and barely keeping yourself up. Your head was light, and you couldn’t wipe an exhausted smile off your face. When you finally felt like your arms wouldn’t give out, you lifted yourself off of him, collapsing on the bed between him and the wall, catching your breath.

Art removed the condom, tying it off and throwing it in the trash before turning to face you. His breathing was much more regular, but his chest still heaved. “...Fuck,” he said.

And you laughed, one arm over your eyes, the other clutching your stomach. “Yeah?”

He was grinning at you when your arm moved off your eyes, then leaning in, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, your collar bone, your cheek. “Yeah,” he murmured. Silence fell over you both as you watched him intertwine your fingers and stare at them. His lip twitched, like he was working up the courage to say something. “I meant it, you know. I wanted this- you- I’ve liked you for… a while.”

You hummed, now suddenly also very interested in your intertwined fingers. “‘Liked,’ past tense? All done now?”

He rolled his eyes. “No, dumb-ass.” You smacked his arm, glancing up to find him looking at you now. “Like. Still. And probably will for a while.”

You felt your face warm. You kissed him. “I like you, too. Still do. Will for a while, etcetera.”

“Thank fucking god,” he said, and you couldn’t help but snort a laugh. When Art kissed you again, you could feel his smile against your lips, and you were sure he could feel yours.

[myownwholewildworld]

uniformed!joel one shot - the police officer

series masterlist | main masterlist | part ii

pairing: police officer!joel x f!reader.

summary: you're driving back home and, unbeknownst to you, you've committed quite a few traffic offences, noticed by the one and only police officer, joel miller. he's not gonna let you get your way that easily.

a/n: umm hello?? idk what happened, but here we are. i threw this idea to the wind, people seemed to like it, so i started typing and this is what came out. read the warnings and do not judge me please lol this is inspired by this and this ask, so kudos to them! so basically i have decided to start a series of one shots where joel miller wears different uniforms. YEAH, i know, i'm not okay but that's okay. if you guys have any suggestions for this series, my askbox is open! also, i've decided that if i/you guys want, i can write the same uniformed!joel more than once (e.g. two fics of police officer!joel). if someone is interested in being in the taglist for this series, please do let me know. anyways, i do appreciate all comments, reblogs, likes and asks. as always thank you for reading! <3

warnings: 18+, mdni. no outbreak AU. dark theme. filthy smut. dub-con. age gap, no age gap, you choose (joel is mid-late 40s, reader is at least of legal drinking age). power imbalance (joel is a cop). alcohol consumption (reader is sober by the time it happens). fingering. squirting. oral (m and f receiving). mouth fucking. slut shaming. cheating. rough, public sex. unprotected piv. creampie. joel is a bully and a dick, basically, so be warned. alternating pov. no description of reader apart from having hair that can be pulled. not proofread so i'm sorry.

w/c: ~4.6k.

tagging some people who seemed to be v interested (please let me know if you want to be removed, no pressure!):

@fartcloudfartcloud @liciafonseca @fan-fiction-floozy @sweetlummie

“Shit”, you mumbled as the car keys slipped off your fingers.

You crouched down and blindly dabbed the asphalt, your phone falling off your hand too. You grunted in frustration ― maybe you did drink a bit more than what you had intended. Not to the point where you thought it would be dangerous, otherwise you wouldn’t be driving home. You were already clumsy when sober, so this was no sign of anything, really.

The keys had tumbled under your car, so you got on all fours and bent over to reach. After a few trials, you finally got hold of them. Steadying yourself on the handle of the driver’s side of your car, you got up. Your tiny, fitted skirt had scrunched up at your waist, so you pulled from the hem to bring it back down. Looking around, you hoped you hadn’t flashed anyone.

You had dressed up for the occasion. As you grew older, your group of friends slowly drifted apart, so agreeing on a date and time to meet up had been a fucking miracle. You had been out since midday and sipped on many margaritas to quench your thirst. But knowing you would need to drive back home, you had stopped drinking a couple of hours ago. If you could, you would have gotten hammered. Living in the outskirts of Austin sucked.

You managed to finally open your vehicle and sat down. You hunched down, avoiding the steering wheel, to undo your heels. A satisfied sigh escaped your lips when you took them off ― your feet were hurting so bad, you questioned all of your life choices. A minute later the motor roared awake, and you were on your merry way without a hitch.

That was until you drove out of the city center onto not very well-lit roads. You were driving through an industrial estate when sirens went off behind you. Clicking your tongue, you looked through the rearview mirror, thinking it may be an ambulance asking you to give way.

Ah, no, you were very mistaken. It was a freaking police car, and it seemed like it was asking you to pull over. Great, just fucking great, you thought.

The headlights blinded you, so you couldn’t see the man approaching your car. Then you heard a tap, tap, tap on your window, the officer dazing you with the torchlight. You inhaled deeply, putting on your best smile, and rolled down the window.

“Good evening, officer. What can I do for ya?”, you battered your eyelashes at him, still dazzled by the torchlight.

Maybe if you played all sweet and innocent, he would take pity on you and let you go.

However, you were met with a deep, husky voice.

“License and proof of insurance”, he barked, no good evening miss, no please, nothing. So rude.

When he put down the torch, you caught a glimpse of the guy’s face. Bearded jaw with a prominent moustache, brown curly hair with slivers of silver, an attractive hooked nose, and some devilish hazel eyes. He was in his mid or late forties and was so fucking handsome you almost drooled at the sight.

You bit your bottom lip, a lopsided smile curling at the corners.

“Yes, of course, officer”, your voice was sweet and smooth as you bowed over the passenger’s seat, your boobs casually resting on the steering wheel.

You opened the glove box and handed him the papers, faking the most innocent, girly look you could muster.

“Is there something wrong, officer?”, you asked, leaning on the door frame, gifting him with the tentative sight of your deep cleavage.

His eyes wandered off the papers he was holding and lingered where you intended. You read the tag on his shirt: Officer Miller. Well, Officer Miller looked damn good in that tight uniform. The black shirt clung to his flexed biceps, the buttons slightly giving way to the bulge of his chest, the belt hugging his waist and… good fucking lord, those thighs, the size of a rugby player’s.

Your mouth watered.

You would lie to yourself if you said you were not affected by his presence. In fact, your damp cunt might as well fucking disagree with you. You pressed your knees together, unconsciously looking for some relief to the sudden wet heat gathering in between your legs.

His eyes drifted up lazily, locking on to yours. You swore a muscle on his jaw twitched.

“You were speeding, doing 40 on a 30-mph road. And your headlights are off”, he replied, his tone raspy.

Fuuuuuuuck, that’s why I couldn’t see shit. Were you that drunk? You didn’t feel like it.

Your face expression didn’t flinch, playing dumb might just do the trick. So you giggled, smacking your forehead with the palm of your hand.

“Ah, silly me. But it was well lit up until now, sir, so no harm done, right?”, your honeyed voice pleaded. “I swear this was a 40-mph road a couple of months ago?”

“It was but got changed. Did you not see the road sign?”, he seemed to be very annoyed.

You had no time to answer, because Officer Miller pointed to your lap. For a second you panicked ― surely your arousal had not drenched your clothes, right? You were aware of how wet your pussy was, but not to that extreme. Right? You looked down ― your phone was resting on your lap, but nothing else. A wave of relief overcame you and then you glanced up at him, confused.

“You were talking on the phone while driving, I presume.”

You gasped and promptly shook no with your head.

“No, no, officer. You see, I left it there when I got in the car, I forgot it was on my lap. I promise I wasn’t texting or anything like that.” Your explanation was genuine, but he cocked a brow. “I wouldn’t lie to you, sir.”

“Why? Because you’re a good girl?”. That question caught you off guard and turned you on at the same time, sending shivers down your spine. Your clit twitched. You gaped and nodded unwittingly. “I see. Step out of the car.”

Your heart was racing, attempting to jump out of your chest. Maybe you had been too suggestive. But he was the embodiment of the law, surely the officer had had his good share of temptation and would not yield so easily.

You got out of your sedan, slightly dishevelled, and tugged at your skirt so it would stop riding up your thighs. Officer Miller had taken one step back, his eyes measuring you from top to bottom, loitering on your breasts. His tongue quickly darted out to wet his bottom lip ― you were mesmerised by the simple gesture and pondered how it would feel if you choked on his tongue.

That thought made your cunt gush some more. You pursed your lips ― eyes on him, trying to convey normalcy.

“You’ve been drinking and have also been driving barefoot. That’s a total of, what, five offences?”. Miller clicked his tongue in disapproval. “It’s like you’re begging to spend the night in a cell.” His eyes flickered with malice ― and something else. Lust?

You really did not want to sleep in a cell tonight. You just wanted to get home, that was all. Also, most of your “offences” were bullshit. You were certain he couldn’t charge you with half of it, but his wickedness made you wary.

“I’m not drunk,” you said with a languid smile, touching his forearm, his arms crossed at his chest. “I stopped drinking two hours ago, officer.”

He raised an eyebrow ― Officer Miller didn’t believe a word you said.

“I can smell it.” You didn’t know if it was intentional or not, but his eyes drifted down to your pussy.

“I-It?”, you repeated, lips parted.

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you for a long minute. Your bravery had flaked a bit, although your cunt was begging for him to do something about it.

Joel was having a hard time curbing his horniness. You were so inviting, so insinuating, it was like you were asking to be fucked there and then. Oh, yes, you were, he knew you were. Showing off your boobs, wetting your lips, rubbing your knees together, playing with the edge of your tiny skirt. He had noticed every single one of your seductive attempts.

His cock was hard, so much so that it was stretching against the zipper of his work trousers. He kept his arms crossed, but what he really wanted to do was to readjust his erection so it wouldn’t be so damn uncomfortable.

“Turn around, hands on the car”, he ordered with a steely voice.

You first looked muddled, but finally obliged, giving him your back ― your palms resting on the roof of your car, your knees pressed together. He was sure your cunt was pulsing, and you were just trying to calm yourself down.

The thought made him mad with lechery. His dick was throbbing already.

“I’m going to pat you down, and then I’m gonna cuff you. Understood?”, he warned you, getting close to you.

You suddenly looked over your shoulder, your smile unwavering. You tilted your pelvis back, your ass against his bulge. You glanced down and then back up at him decisively.

“I’m sure we can work something out, officer?”, you whispered, your butt pressing on his swollen lump.

No, Joel was not imagining things. You were definitely asking to be fucked senseless in exchange for just a warning. He was still contemplating whether to entertain the idea or not. You were tempting, he would give you that. Your body was built to satisfy a man’s pleasure ― he could see that even when you were clothed. Barely clothed. Your top was too small, your boobs almost spilling over the neckline; your skirt was too short, your ass cheeks almost visible ― and he was sure you had some slutty heels on before you jumped into the car.

His cock jerked at the thought of rearranging your guts. Because that was what Joel would do to you if he had the chance. He cupped his groin for a second now that you were not looking, pressing it slightly to relieve some of the tension.

It didn’t help. If anything, it made it worse. He suppressed a frustrated groan.

Joel slotted his right knee in between your legs and forced you to separate them, his heavy boot grounding him. “I’ll think about it. In the meantime, you’re under arrest for at least reckless driving. Now stay still.” He was fully aware of how the top of his thigh brushed your crotch, but made a titanic effort to ignore it, for his own sanity.

Your panties were so fucking drenched, you feared your discharge might start dripping down your inner thighs. In fact, you let your head down to check discreetly and sighed with relief ― nothing to worry about, he wouldn’t notice how fucking horny you were.

Then he forcefully parted your legs, and you felt the fabric of his trousers sliding against your wet panties. The subtle touch made you jerked your hips up and then back down in surprise, your clothed cunt flushed against his thigh ― you had to swallow the sluttiest moan of your entire life, it felt damn good.

“I’m― I’m sorry”, you mumbled, lifting your body up to break the contact.

You didn’t need to look down to know that there would be a wet patch on his black trousers.

“You should be, making a mess of my uniform like that”, he grunted, exasperated.

Pressing your lips, you inspected every inch of the roof of your car while he patted you down. His big, calloused hands lingered on your underboob longer than necessary, almost cupping them. Both hands travelled down to your waist, his fingertips slightly under the waistband of your skirt.

Your heart was pounding, suddenly unsure of the whole thing. What were you really doing? Were you so desperate that you would let him use you in exchange for letting you go? Were you getting more than what you had bargained for?

It was like the excitement had burnt the last drop of alcohol in your blood and now you were fully aware of what you had unleashed.

But you had no more time to question your attitude, because Officer Miller completely slipped one of his hands under your underwear and buried all of his fingers in your soaked folds, except for his thumb which quickly found your clit. You shut your eyes and moaned audibly, your knees giving way.

His free hand wrapped around your waist to help you stand up, while his fingers traversed your whole slit, from your perineum to your clit, buttering your cunt with your own fluids.

“You are so fucking wet already, you should be ashamed of yourself”, he whispered in your ear while he pushed your ass back into his bulge.

Your treacherous body had awakened at his touch, your clit felt like it was on fire and your cunt was pulsating so hard it was uncomfortable. You rubbed his dick with your buttocks, unconsciously looking for some more friction. Miller groaned behind you, jerking you closer, his cock hard pressed against your ass.

Two of his fingers dipped further down and found your leaking hole, his thumb still rubbing your clit languidly. You whimpered and stirred your hips when one fingertip circled your entrance tentatively. Your back arched, pushing your butt further into his erection.

“Aren’t you a slut?”, he hissed as both fingers slid inside you, your brain not registering his words.

Your moist pussy clenched around his fingers, squeezing them hard. Every time your heart beat, so did your cunt. Officer Miller started fingering you, first slowly, and then picking up a relentless pace. Unable to control yourself, you mewled like a kitten in heat, your forehead now resting against the cold metal of your car and a thread of spit hanging from your mouth. Your needy cunt was so stimulated, so hot, so slippery, you couldn’t stop yourself from coming, even if you wanted to.

So you let go. You orgasmed so hard, you squirted with his fingers still dug in your creamy pussy. But you coming didn’t stop Officer Miller from driving his digits inside of you over and over again, forcing another climax on you a minute later. Your inner walls palpitated so violently, you felt the emptiness of your womb. Then you noticed it: the trickle of your own cum streaming down your inner thighs.

Officer Miller forced his fingers out of you, a pop sound making it obvious that your pussy was drown in your own fluids. The cop tapped your pussy a few times, almost gently, as the last wave washed off your nerve endings. You had never come so hard in your life before. Not even your boyfriend of five years had been able to turn you on this bad.

When your limbs regained some strength, Miller let go of your waist and stepped back. You slowly turned around to face him, but as your eyes drifted down his uniform, you realised that there was a new wet patch on his trousers, this time on his bulge. You had leaked so much, you had drenched his own pants.

You tried to find the words to explain to him that this was not what you had intended. Or was it?

“You’re still under arrest”, his voice was resolute, as if nothing of what just happened had affected him.

Before your neurons could make contact with each other, he handcuffed you, your laced hands resting in front of you, conveniently covering your spent pussy.

“But―”.

“No but’s, blackmailing a cop is an offence too. So that makes it six now, right?”, he cut you off.

You huffed, not believing what he was saying. You had not blackmailed him, not even close, he was just making it up now. Before you could argue, Officer Miller removed the keys from the ignition, shut the driver’s door and locked your car. He then grabbed you by your elbow, forcing you to walk in front of him towards his cruiser.

“Oh, c’mon, you’re now just bullying me”, you complained, your sweet façade quickly toppling.

Miller didn’t reply to your taunting. He simply opened the back door of his Crown Vic and threw you in. You almost tripped but manage to stop the falling. You sat down on the seat, your legs still out of the car, bare soles against the asphalt.

You didn’t know what possessed you, but your cuffed hands darted up and played with the buckle of his belt. Maybe if you gave him some head, he would relax and let you go. You were already in too deep anyway, your whipped pussy living proof of your desire.

“Officer, please, I can make it worth your while if you let me go”, you muttered, your fingers unclasping his belt.

Miller did not say one word, he just stared you down while you held his gaze. His waist slanted forward in an unspoken invitation, his eyes swirling with lust and wickedness.

You were not sure why you were doing this, or if you wanted to do this. But you were a horny mess, your pulsing cunt urging you to keep going, saturating your panties even more. Sure, you could drive home and ask your boyfriend to take care of you, but by the looks of it, you were going to spend the night in a station cell if you didn't do something about it. About him.

With firm hands, you undid the buckle and unzipped his trousers. His big, meaty cock sprung out with no warning, swaying in front of you. He was wearing no underwear. You marvelled at the sight ― his dick was the longest you had ever seen with a considerable girth, veiny and hairy at the base. It looked scary, but also fucking tempting.

“Don’t just stare, do something”, he commanded, grabbing your cuffed hands to bring them closer to his erection.

Ah, someone is impatient, you thought with a smirk before wrapping both of your hands around his circumference. With your mouth agape, close to his leaking tip, you rubbed the precum against his slit with your thumb and then started pumping him. His cock was palpitating, hard and velvety under your clasp ― and warm, so fucking warm you could feel his blood rushing underneath.

His jaw clenched, his eyes transfixed on your moving hands as you upped the rhythm. And then, without prior notice, he fisted your hair in a ponytail and drove his whole dick down your parted lips. You retched when his glans surpassed your uvula and coughed with his cock still in your mouth.

You were suffocating, but he didn’t give a fuck. In any case, he pushed his cock further down, but it had nowhere to go. His pubic hairs tingled the tip of your nose as you looked up, silently asking for mercy with teary eyes.

Miller glanced down at you and the motherfucker just smiled as you were still gagging.

“Look at you. What a whore, you’re taking it so well”, he mumbled under his breath before pushing your head back.

His cock slid out and you coughed to clear your throat of precum, swallowing it. His brutish attitude, although unwelcome, made your traitor of a cunt gush.

“I’m gonna fuck your throat to teach you a lesson. Open up for me, darlin’.”

You didn’t know why, but you just obeyed. Without breaking visual contact, the cop slotted his cock back in between your lips. With his hands on your temples, he tilted his hips forward until his tip stroked the end of your throat. Then he pulled out harshly and started jackhammering your mouth relentlessly, driving his cock in as far as he could every single time, his hairy balls hitting your chin. With Miller taking the lead, your cuffed hands were free. They were lazily resting on your lap until you dipped them down, your index caressing your deprived clit.

You just took it like a champ. After a while, your gag reflex relaxed and you dared to press your lips around his girth, so it would be more pleasurable for him. His slick cock was drumming in your mouth, filling it up entirely, choking you.

Miller pulled your head back sternly ― you were panting like a puppy by the time he was done with your throat. Your eyelashes were damp with unspent tears. You were sure that tomorrow it was going to hurt like if you had caught the worst cold of your life. Your mouth was filled with his sticky precum, a bridge of it connecting your mouth to his cock.

“You’ve not thrown up, well done”, he chuckled darkly. “Clean this mess for me.”

Again, as if you were not in control of yourself, you did as you were told. You licked his throbbing cock, swallowing all the fluids you had swept off his groin.

He lightly patted your cheek. “Good girl, now get up and take that finger out of your pussy.”

You had not realised you had been fingering yourself all along and your clit was begging for some relief. With a trembling sigh, you removed your hand from in between your legs and stood up.

Only then you caught on: he had not come yet. Fuck, you thought.

Did you want this? You were not sure. Letting him finger you and giving him head was one thing, but letting him fuck you was a completely different story. You were not a slut nor a cheater, but he made you feel like one. Your dribbling pussy made you feel like one.

Joel snatched his fingers around your elbow once again and made you walk to the front of his cruiser. He was in extreme need of relief ― his cock was pulsing so hard it was driving him mad with lust. He was gonna fuck that cunt of yours till you begged him to stop.

Unceremoniously, he splayed you down across the hood of his car ― your chest against the metal surface, your ass up in the air and your legs spread wide. If he could take a picture to jerk himself off to, he would.

He needed to see for himself, taste for himself. He was sure as hell that your pussy was drooling, beseeching to be filled to the brim. So he knelt behind you and parted your ass cheeks to have a better look. You whimpered, tiptoeing to give him better access to your soaked flaps.

“You’re such a slut. I could scrunch your panties to fill up an entire glass with your cum. Your thighs are all wet and tacky too”, he couldn’t stop himself from pointing it out, driving his hands up from the back of your knees, up your inner thighs, until they reached your crotch, framing your pussy.

He leaned forward and sipped from the fountain of your underwear, his fingers digging in the flesh of your ass, smelling your sweet sex. You wept, moving your hips against his mouth. Ah, yes, he knew you wanted him to fuck you hard. Very hard.

Joel rode up your tight skirt, exposing your ass to the elements. And then he pulled down your panties and put them in the pocket of his vest, as if they were a trophy. Because they were.

He now could have a better look at your creamy cunt, all smeared with your wanton fluids. Spreading your pussy open with his hands, he lapped you entirely a few times, even your butthole. Joel heard your moans loud and clear, knowing that you had never had your pussy eaten this good before. So he kept on going ― lapping, licking, sucking, biting until you squirted in his mouth, leaking like a broken tap and whining like a bitch in heat.

Joel drank it all and when you were finished, he stood up. He spanked your ass and with a swift movement, impaled you until his balls were flat against your thighs.

You screamed, literally screamed at the top of your lungs, when he stabbed you with his cock. You tried to hold onto something, but there was nothing you could grab. This was exactly what your cunt needed, being stuffed like a goddamn turkey in thanksgiving. Officer Miller drove his cock in and out of you lazily at first, and then he started fucking you stupid with such vigour that your body was being rocked back and forth, the handcuffs sliding against the hood, scratching the metal underneath.

You just moaned uncontrollably throughout the whole thing, unable to quieten yourself. Your cunt clutched around his throbbing dick, squeezing it hard, so hard you felt your muscles strain. Your clit spasmed severely, another fucking climax creeping up on you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK”, you implored to the sky, to him, to whoever was listening.

The cop then fisted your hair in a ponytail and pulled backwards, forcing you up off the hood, your back arching against his chest while he drilled you mercilessly. You were sure the squelching sounds your pussy was making could be heard from a mile away.

Then you finally came again, shrieking ― your treacherous pussy clamping down on his dick, leaking absolutely everywhere, trying to desperately milk him dry. Your eyes welled up, your black eyeliner running down your cheeks.

“You’re gonna take it inside and you’re not gonna complain”, he moaned in your ear and even in your blissful daze, you panicked.

“I’ve got a boyfriend,” you mentioned, but you knew it wasn’t going to stop him.

“Ah, do you? Doesn’t seem like it right now”, and then he huffed heavily, letting go, driving his cock as far inside of you as he physically could.

His warm cum filled you to the brim, painting your walls of sticky white. Irremediably, you sighed, heaving, and closed your eyes, letting yourself rejoice in how full you were of his spent, of his cock.

And as soon as it started, it ended. His dick slid out of your crying, sensitive pussy, leaving your damp skin exposed to the cold air.

You took a minute to compose yourself and pushing down your skirt. When you looked at him, he had already tucked away his cock back in his work trousers, his cop uniform slightly in disarray. Now there were more wet, sticky patches adorning his groin area, a mixture of your shared pleasure.

“Can I have my panties back, please?”, you requested, extending your hand to him, with a sunny, albeit quivering, smile.

“No, I’m keeping them.” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Can I at least have a tissue to clean myself up?”, your voice grew smaller as you lost confidence.

“No. I want you to go home with your pussy bursting with my cum, so that boyfriend of yours knows you’ve been fucked stupid by someone else”, he explained, full of himself.

At least you were going home. Or so you thought until you saw him walk to the back door of his Crown Vic, holding it open for you to jump in.

“This means nothing, you’re still spending the night in the cell”, he said, matter-of-factly.

You scoffed, angry. “Are you fucking serious?”, you asked, although what you really wanted to do was cry.

But you swallowed your tears, contrite ― your pride was bigger than your shame. And right now, you felt mortified.

What had you done?

Well, you had gambled, and you lost.

But, on the other hand, he had fucked you so good, so filthy, you were not sure any other cock would measure up to his.