#Smuff

[iarchmybaculaa]

Suggestive!

Fic is a standalone drabble-ish? That I wrote on a whim 😭

Pairing: Idol! Jungkook x black fem reader

Tags: suggestive context, allusions to sexual acts, 2018 BTS, Jungkook is in love, FLUFFFFFF!!!

Tag list: @ririkookiemonster @le3worl @freshmoondragon

You watch as the other Armys file out of the arena, hearts so filled to the brim with joy, that their bodies eject it as tears. Most of them leave with their army bombs in one hand, and their freebies in the other.

You on the other hand? You find yourself with your army bomb in one hand, and the weight of what you assume is a ridiculously expensive pen in the other.

Your heart thumps so erratically in your chest, that you feel like if you swallowed too hard it would end up in the depth of your stomach. You’re not sure why you’re this nervous; not sure why your palms always sweat and your breaths become so shallow.

Mayhaps it’s the scandalousness of it all.

There’s a bottle of water on the small table in front of you, a straw already poking out of the cap. You roll your eyes as you unscrew the cover and gulp it down. The boots are starting to hurt your feet, but you keep them on. They look powerful, sexy.

They make you feel sexy.

And God knows you need to keep feeling that way for as long as possible to keep up the facade of confidence.

You’re too restless to sit, so you walk over to the one way window, and watch the droves of people scurry out of the venue. You’re far up enough that they almost look like ants.

You’re so distracted that you don’t hear the door open and close. You barely catch on to the sound of approaching footsteps before there’s a pair of long arms snaking around your waist. Your body tenses before you relax into the hold, knowing it could only be one person.

“Hi,” you say in an almost breathless whisper.

He mumbles out a soft greeting in return, the sound getting lost in the crook of your neck as he plants his lips there

“Did you enjoy the show?” He asks, hands caressing the section of your stomach that’s exposed.

Despite the warmth spreading through your entire body, you can’t help but giggle a bit. You wondered how long he would keep repeating the very first question he’d ever asked you.

A part of you wishes he’ll keep doing it forever.

An even bigger part of you prays that you’ll always be there to hear it.

He spins you around, grateful that your hair is caught in a bun. It’s not that he minds having to push your braids back, and Lord knows how much he enjoys wrapping them around his hands and pull- he’s getting off track.

The point is, you have such a beautiful face. From your brown eyes to your full, two toned lips, to the pretty charm that dangles from your nose.

Fuck, he loves you.

But he can’t tell you that. Not when the only thing keeping you together is a stupid contract he makes you sign every time he wants to bury himself inside you.

The room is quiet, it always is when you two do this. The sound of your laboured breaths is the only thing left filling the space. Jungkook Isn't the best at English, and you aren’t the best at Korean. But Jungkook is confident that your pussy invented Hangul with how fluently she speaks to him.

You both have a common language.

Pleasure.

And you give it to each other so easily, so well that if you really did tell anyone that you and Jungkook were fuck buddies, He would contact the press himself to let them know it was true.

Jungkook is a beautiful singer. He knows that; it’s the entirety of his existence . It’s his job. But the sounds that you pull out of him? The sounds that come out of your mouth?

Jungkook is in, deep.

And not just inside you.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You make beautiful music together. Your harmonised moans and the synchronized slapping of skin as your hips meet far outdo anything that Jungkook thinks Yoongi will ever be able to produce (not that he’d ever tell his hyung that)

Jungkook kisses you like a man starved, like he’s scared that you will disappear, that the mere thought of having to wait to have you again drives him absolutely insane. (Because it does).

Jungkook takes his time to explore you, to learn you, to love you for as long as he can. Every time.

He fucks you like he wants you to remember him for a long time. How he feels, how he looks, how well he takes you.

And his reasons are very simple.

He has no way to contact you. You’ve never exchanged numbers, or even email addresses, because that’s how NDAs work.

NDAs in the entertainment industry are used mostly to protect an artist's image after their one night stands. They work because it will likely be the first and only last time someone is in such close proximity to the artist.

But you and Jungkook keep finding each other.

You because you keep showing up to concerts, and him because he keeps looking for you. Searching row by row, seat by seat until he spots you. Jungkook thinks he’d be able to find you in a sea of a million people (if they ever became that popular)

Your hookups always end with Jungkook kissing all over your face, telling you in the cutest, most reverent mix of broken English and the most delicate Korean how beautiful you are as he helps you get dressed.

He sneaks money into your purse, like he always does when you’re not looking, with a note that says “eat” on it and nothing else. He bends at your feet so you can use his shoulders as leverage to put on your shoes, and insists on carrying your freebies and merch in one hand whilst intertwining your fingers with the other.

He always thinks it’s so strange how you’ve never asked him for anything. No merch, no free tickets, no pictures…nothing. You’re content with spending your own money to come to the shows because you actually love his craft; because you love his members. And that means more to him that he'll e er be able to express to you.

So sue him if he tosses VIP sound check lanyards to their upcoming shows in your massive tote bag of merch, and charge him if he slips in one of his necklaces from tonight’s set along with it.

Jungkook can buy a million necklaces, and perform at a thousand other shows. But he can only find one you, and he intends to keep you.

He smiles as you hold onto his pinky, rambling on and on about what a great time you had at the concert, and how sexy everyone was. The hotel corridor is empty, your excited voice bounces off the walls and Jungkook adores it.

He doesn’t understand most of it, but he loves you.

You chatter away right up until Jungkook leads you into the backseat of the unmarked car his manager is driving. He places your bags on the seat beside you, and fastens your seatbelt.

He brings your noses together and places a soft kiss on your lips.

“See you next time.” He says, because saying “I love you” would be very stupid of him.

“Next time” you agree, because wrapping yourself around him and refusing to leave would probably get you slapped with a restraining order.

But as the door slides shut and you watch as Jungkook disappears from your view, you smile.

Because there will be a next time.

There will always be a next time.

Fin

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Huge thanks to @madmax8603 for putting together this smuff list.

Here is what you can expect from me in the lead up to Christmas:

December 14th - hand holding and dry humping with Billy Taylor (The Halcyon)

December 15th - dreams and dirty talk with Aemond Targaryen (HotD)

December 16th - in nature and deep throating with Ettore (High Life)

December 17th - reassurance and car sex with Billy Washington (Trigger Point)

December 18th - letters and lingerie kink with Abraham (Grantchester)

December 19th - future and face sitting with Michael Gavey (Saltburn)

December 20th - sharing a drink and toys with modern Aemond

December 21st - sunrise and orgasm control with Osferth (TLK)

December 22nd - swimming and face fucking with Ettore (High Life)

December 23rd - bed sharing and accidental stimulation with Tom Bennett (World on Fire)

December 24th - a fancy party and praising with Billy Taylor (The Halcyon)

December 25th - promise and phone sex with Michael Gavey (Saltburn)

No tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

[i-literally-cant-with-this]

A/N ::: I'm so fuckin' pissed at Tumblr right now. I had everything all done and the fucking thing wouldn't post. So, here's the bare bones of what I had.

MDNI UNDER THE CUT

THIS IS SMUTTY AND FLUFFY. IT'S FLUT. PLEASE JOIN ME IN ADDING THIS TO THE READILY AVAILABLE TAGS.

I LOVE THIS MAN. I NEED THIS MAN IN SO MANY WAYS I'VE LOST COUNT.

PLEASE ENJOY THIS. GIVE KAFKA THE LOVE HE DESERVES.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING.

WC ::: JUST OVER 800.

"Ay-yo! Just what do you think you're doing? Mm, miss? I don't think my lady would appreciate you grabbing my ass like that. Especially since she's not around to defend what's hers." Kafka batted your hand away from his chest after you lightly smacked his cute little butt. 

"Oh hush. If your 'lady' had any clue as to just how much of a stud muffin you are, she'd never take her sights off of that sexy dad bod you've got going on here." You climbed into the shower and stood behind him, pressing your still dry breasts against his soaking back. 

"D-dad bod? But I - we - there are no kids. I don't have kids. I - we haven't even talked about having kids." He sounded like he was starting to panic. 

"Calm down. Calm ..." You ran your hands from the fronts of his shoulders down his chest and lightly scratched his upper thighs with your nails, "down."

You felt him tense up beneath your fingertips before he pushed your hands away and turned to face you. 

"Look, Miss...?" He backed you up against the shower wall and pressed his erection to your own cute, pudgy belly. "Eh, y'name's not important. I'll forget it anyway because my heart belongs to another. But I'm gonna make damn sure you never forget who I am." 

Kafka grabbed your wrists and pinned them above your head and he held them there with one hand. His other hand traced the swell of the outline of your left breast. 

"Keep your hands there. Don't move them until I tell you to do so. Understood? Miss?" He was speaking so closely to your ear that you could feel the breath behind his words. 

You nodded, looking a little taken aback by his behavior. 

He grabbed your right thigh with his hand and hiked your leg up over his hip and pressed into you. You felt everything. 

Kafka slid his hand from your thigh to your backside and lifted your other leg up to wrap around his waist. He slowly lowered you onto his cock, watching your face all the while.

"Miss, you're so tight. Can't say I've ever experienced anything quite like this before. Damn, heh."

You gasped as he fully buried himself inside of you. The warm water was making the entire experience even more enjoyable.

"I told you not to move, Miss. What part of that didn't you understand?" He growled at you.

Kafka shifted his hips and thrust himself into you with such force that you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming. His hands gripped your backside so tightly that you were sure he was going to leave bruises.

"Oh fuck!" You cried out, trying to free your hands from his grip.

"Ah, ah, ah. No. You stay right there." He bit down on your shoulder, drawing a moan from you.

Kafka continued to slam into you, and you could feel yourself starting to tremble from the intensity everything.

"K-Kafka! I-I'm gonna ... oh shit! Oh my god!" You tried to pull your arms away from him, but he wouldn't let go.

"Hold it. Not yet." He moved his hips in a circular motion, grinding into you.

"Please! Please, Kafka! Let me cum! Please!" You begged him.

"Alright. Go ahead, Miss. Cum for me." He released your wrists and held on to your hips with both hands, pushing himself deeper and deeper into you.

You dug your nails into his back and screamed his name as you finally released the tension that had been building inside of you.

"Ah, hah hah hah! Fuck, Kafka! Fuck!" You continued to moan as he slowed down his pace and gently slid out of you.

"That's it, Miss. That's a good girl." He groaned as he reached his own orgasm. You could feel him cum hard inside of you. Your walls pulsating around his throbbing dick. 

He wrapped his arms around you and held you close, kissing your neck and shoulders. "Was that too rough? I didn't hurt you, did I, kitten?" 

You were still trying to catch your breath. But you smiled and shook your head no, "Mm - Kafka, that was so hot. And where did you get the idea to call me 'Miss?'" You found yourself blushing, even after all of that you two just did. 

"Mm-mm-mm. Jus' came to me. You uh, you liked it, huh?" 

"Kafka, you were amazing." You pulled away from him and looked him in the eyes. "You are amazing."

He smiled and kissed you on the lips and gave your butt a playful smack.

You reached for the body wash and started to soap yourself up.

"I don't know about that, Miss. There's something about you that I find strangely irresistible." He winked at you.

"You are talking about me, right? You must be crazy." You teased him.

"Nah, just crazy happy." 

@supersecretsaga @kazutora-kurokawa @southside-otaku

@darkstarlight82 @bakubunny @arlerts-angel

@reiners-milkbiddies @trevengersprincess @katkusuo

@viburnt

[magicalmysteries777]

magicalmysteries777 - masterlist.

Multi-chapter

The Bloody-Handed and The Anguish of Loving Them - (Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson) - 39.5k - 10/10 chapters.

"Almost a year has passed since Eddie Munson died and it feels like the only person that isn't moving on is Steve. After spending the night studying a Dungeons and Dragons handbook, Steve is convinced he's figured out how to bring Eddie back. Not only that, but defeat Vecna once and for all too. Now he just has to prove it."

Tumblr // AO3

One Shots

Lay ons. - (Eddie Munson x F!Reader) - 2.3k

"Popular female reader with a secret crush on Eddie goes to buy drugs but ends up getting more than she paid for."

Tumblr // AO3

"You're clueless, you know that?" - (Eddie Munson x Reader) & (Reader x Steve Harrington!Fake) - 2.3k

"You agree to accompany Steve to Enzo’s for Valentine’s Day with only one shared goal in mind - to make Eddie so jealous he has no choice but to have the one conversation he’s being avoiding."

Tumblr // AO3

[leslie057]

jancy fanart event day 1: philia (friendship)

me: wow theyre such good frens. best buds even.

[heraofta]

The image of supercorp cuddling and kara suddenly pulling lena's t-shirt down so she could kiss lena's boobies living in my mind rent free 😬

[slvtts]

୨୧ you’re finally awake..

was startin’ to get worried there,, anyway, welcome ‘home’ hope ya enjoy your stay.

𓈒 ˙ 🔪 ּ 🕷️⠀ . ਏਓ ݁

♡ masterlist ⟢ ︵

　　∿　　 ﹒　　 ☆　anon list .　　🕳️　　 ♫

♬    ⁾⁾　who I write  ✢ 📞 ⭒

[i-did-not-mean-to]

･ﾟ 🎀 𝒲𝑒𝑒𝓀 𝟤 🎀 ﾟ･

-> FOTFICS Post

-> Spicy Prompt Post

-> My Masterlist for this month

Requests are open :) (With the exception of the pregnancy spicy prompt, I am willing to combine a spicy prompt with a normal one)

🄰🄻🅂🄾 🄲🄷🄴🄲🄺 🄾🅄🅃:

@cilil (takes requests)

@lordoftherazzles (says she wants to do some)

@fantasyinallforms (has expressed enthusiasm)

[conceptualkaleb]

Filling writing prompts for Nace Week and Kinktober at the same time is so much fun. I write like 99% fluff and 1% Smut. But somehow it just works

[happilyhertale]

Take your Place – Daemon Targaryen x fem!wife!reader

Summary: Your husband was away for months, leading the battle against the Triarchy and ultimately bringing victory. Now he is back and a ball is being held in celebration. Throughout the evening, you have spoken with many lords and ladies – but you have not seen the person you long for. So you go in search of him.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!wife!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Sex (p in v)

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1.8 k

Other stories of mine

12 Days of Smuffmas

12 Days of Smuff

The hall is filled with music and laughter. Lords and ladies are sitting at the various tables, engrossed in conversation. The wine tastes good and has already caused a few men to slip off their chairs tonight. And this exuberant mood is appropriate, because the Triarchy has finally been repelled in the Stepstones and your husband is being celebrated for it.

You walk through the rows of tables, looking for your husband. You know that he is most likely sitting somewhere with his men and has already had way too much to drink. But although you would normally be able to spot his silver hair anywhere, you can't see him.

But then something grabs your hand and pulls you down roughly. You cry out a little and are about to answer this impertinence with a slap in the face. But you look up as you land on a lap, fingers on your face, caressing you, while a drunken smile reflects back at you.

“Daemon!” you say, but you can't stop the smile that is already spreading across your face. You slowly try to get up again, but Daemon has other plans. His arms wrap around you and he presses his face into the crook of your neck while pressing your back against his chest.

“Stay.” is the only thing he slurs, and you notice the wine on his breath, which he has been consuming all evening.

You just smile slightly, but nod barely noticeable, as you stay on his lap. Your eyes wander around and you were right, his men have spent the evening with him. Some are already hanging drunk in the chairs and a few others are still trying to talk, but you only perceive a kind of grunt.

Daemon kisses your neck, his fingers press lightly into your thighs as he whispers in a low voice, “What are we going to do after this ball?”

You glance slightly over your shoulder and your eyes meet. His gaze is almost soft and you have to smile, “well... I'm going to go to sleep after this ball... you'll probably throw up...” you say to him, trying to suppress a smile.

Daemon chuckles and then laughs a little – he can't deny how many times he's thrown up in a bowl while you've been in bed.

“You know damn well that's not what I meant,” he mutters into your neck as his laughter subsides.

Now you have to giggle a little, “No?” you ask playfully, “I don't know what you mean...”

Daemon leans in and kisses your neck again, breathing into your ear, “I mean that I'd like to spend some time alone with you, love.”

Your eyes are locked on him and you see the determination in his gaze.

“Are you sure you're capable of having a night of pleasure... you're very drunk ...” you say softly.

Daemon grins drunkenly and caresses your cheek. He leans forward and whispers seductively in your ear.

“I'm not too drunk to make you moan, love.”

Your cheeks flush and your eyes widen.

“Daemon!” you say, and even some of his men grin at you, seeming to know what he's saying to make you blush.

Daemon grins at you and his fingers press into your thighs again as he leans forward to whisper in your ear again.

“I'm not too drunk to make you scream for me, love.”

The blush is now creeping down your cleavage. You bite your lip lightly.

“Stop it, Daemon...” you whisper, but you try to squeeze your thighs together a little as you notice the pulsing between your thighs.

Daemon chuckles at your reaction and squeezes your thighs even tighter. He continues to whisper seductively in your ear, “Then stop me, love. Come on.”

You can't stop yourself and you move your hips slightly to create some friction. But then Daemon grabs you and lifts you slightly to turn you on his lap. Confusion graces your features until you straddle him. “We're not supposed to be doing this here,” you say quietly, but he just grins.

“What? You're my wife and you're happy that I'm back... and you show me that by sitting on my lap,” he says, his words slightly slurred. You just shake your head slightly, but before you can say anything, Daemon presses his lips against yours. You gasp slightly, but you respond to his kiss. He grins when he feels your hips moving again, grinding against him slightly. He caresses your cheek and pulls you closer to him, his tongue meeting yours and your kiss intensifying. You feel him getting hard and you let out a small moan, but not loud enough for anyone else to hear. Daemon smiles a little as he feels that you cannot stop moving, that you keep grinding against him. He pulls your hips closer to him as he speaks, letting his fingers glide along your thighs. His lips gently slide down your neck and whispers seductively, “I'd like to see your dress on the floor.” Your eyes flutter closed and his words elicit a slight moan from your lips. But you bite your lip to make no further sound.

“The skirt of my dress is very wide...” you finally whisper softly, breathing heavily. “Maybe you could unbutton your trousers and... I mean, I could sit on you and no one would notice...“ you say quietly.

“But you're already sitting on me...” he mumbles teasingly and gets an annoyed look from you. Daemon glances over at his men and tries not to grin. None of them are looking in your direction, they seem to be engaged in conversation or have their heads on the table, snoring.

“But maybe.. it could work,” he mutters finally. Daemon slides his hand under your skirt, begins to unbutton his trousers, and glances at you from time to time. You look at him, everything except for your upper bodies is hidden under the skirt of your dress. Daemon lets his hands move back to your hips and you move slightly again. Then you have to suppress a moan as you feel his hard cock, how its length presses against your folds. His hands slide to your hips, gripping you, as he presses his the tip of your cock against your entrance.

You look at him, gasp slightly and then lean forward to kiss him as you feel your cunt clench around nothing from the mere anticipation of getting to sheath him. Slowly you lift up and then slowly lower yourself onto his hard cock.

You let yourself sink all the way down, your breath catching. You don't move so that no one can see what you are doing, but you're breathing out heavily.

Daemon suppresses a groan as he feels you move. He leans back further in his chair, eyes closed and head tilted back slightly. His smile widens a little, you feel his cock twitch slightly inside you. “You're so filthy, love,” he murmurs. You bite your lip, moving your hips slightly. “Gods... Daemon...,” you whisper. You close your eyes as he fills you completely. Daemon's moans are becoming harder and harder to suppress. He looks around to make sure his men are not watching. He leans forward to speak seductively in your ear, “Good girl. You feel so good,“ and makes you whimper. “I've missed your big cock...“ you suddenly let slip, making Daemon chuckle briefly, but it ends in a groan as he feels you moving up and down slowly.

“Gods... You feel so good, my love.” He closes his eyes and clenches his teeth as he leans back in his chair and his hands return to your thighs. His hand finds its way under your skirt, his fingertips leaving a fiery trail on your skin.

His thumb glides through your folds until he finds your clit and begins to rub it, making you whimper again “Daemon... I... I...” you stutter as your hips move a little faster. You slide up and down along his length, breathing heavily, your hand sliding to the back of his neck, gripping him, and he growls. Daemon leans forward again, biting your earlobe, “Good girl. That's a good girl.” He leans his head back again, trying to suppress a groan. His gaze returns to you, and he feels your cunt flutter around his cock as you slam your hips down on him. His thumb rubs faster as he kisses you again.

“Come on... Show me how much you've missed this... Riding me... My cock deep inside your tight cunt,” he growls against your lips. And then you moan into his mouth. Your pussy clutches his thick cock. “Gods...” you whimper as your orgasm floods your body. Your cunt milks his cock as you slide up and down. He grunts as he feels his balls tighten. “Daemon...” you whimper, your hand on his neck slides into his hair, grabs lightly while you cum all over his cock. Daemon bites the inside of his lip to suppress a groan. His eyes are closed and his expression is full of lust; he is visibly enjoying it. You moan into his mouth as your orgasm subsides. You are breathing heavily, your eyes are closed. Slowly you open them again, you feel his hips moving slightly again. “Did you come?“ you ask in a whisper. Daemon sighs contentedly and looks down at you. He glances around to make sure that no one is around. ”Not yet, my love,” he speaks softly and caresses your face. “And you will help me finish it,” he grunts. You nod and lean forward again to kiss him. Your hips move slightly faster. “Come for me, my dragon,“ you whisper against his lips. Daemon is breathing heavily and his eyes are closed. He moans softly, your words making his cock twitch. He grabs your waist. "I'm close, love. I'm close.” “Fill me, my dragon...” you whisper against his lips. While you press your hips firmly against him. His cock is deep inside your tight heat as you gyrate your hips. Your hips move faster as you gently bite his lip.

And then he moans, his hips thrusting up and making you squeak slightly. He growls as he pumps his cum into you. You kiss him again and let your hips slow down. You slide up and down more slowly, milking the last drop out of him, to ride out his orgasm. His eyes are closed as he breathes heavily, clenching his teeth. “Love,” he growls.

Daemon leans forward and presses his forehead against yours. He tries to speak but nothing but breathless groans come out, although he tries to hide it. His breathing is slow and shallow as he holds you. “Gods, Love, gods.” he gasps quietly. You giggle slightly and gently kiss his cheek.

“Shall we retire to our chambers?” you whisper, and he just nods. His hands slide back under your skirt, fully covering himself again, and then he helps you up from his lap.

[aemondsbabe]

Love is Patient and Kind

summary: hand holding & dry humping || you aren't ready to take the next step with your monk, luckily for you he has the patience of a saint

pairing: osferth x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, dry humping, very fluffy, osferth being cute and understanding and ruining other men for everyone, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 2.5k

a/n: welcome to day one of 12 days of smuff!! hope y'all enjoy this one! Can be read as part 1 to Wind’s Howling or as a stand alone!

12 days of smuff masterlist

gif creds to @thecruel!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“Are you sure you do not wish for me to carry that, my lady?” Osferth asks for the millionth time, nodding his head at the basket, laden with various herbs and medicinal plants, in the crook of your elbow. 

For the millionth time, you merely shake your head with a crooked smile. “I wish only for your company, monk,” you glance over at him as the two of you walk through the forest, admiring the way the early afternoon sun casts a golden halo through his hair, “I told you as much when we left camp this morning.”

Osferth merely nods in reply; your man is one of few words. A soft blush blooms across your cheeks at the thought – your man, but it was as good as true. Osferth was the first man in Uhtred’s company you felt comfortable with when you joined their cause all those months ago when they’d stopped in your small hamlet in need of a healer; you’d been by their side ever since.

In the months since, your relationship with the monk had steadily grown from hushed whispers around the campfire in the dead of night, when sleep eluded the both of you, to heated glances, delicate touches, and stolen kisses. More recently, Osferth had all but insisted on accompanying you nearly everywhere you went, which is how he’d come to follow you as you walked through the forest to gather the variety of curative plants you need.

A content sigh passes your lips as you tilt your head up, taking in the way the tips of the trees stretch up toward the blue sky. “I had almost forgotten what the sun looked like,” you joke, your heart squeezing proudly in your chest as the monk chuckles next to you, “But hopefully this summer will be dryer than the last.”

“I have prayed many times for sun,” Osferth says with a nod, blue eyes soft as he gazes at you, “Unfortunately, the Lord seems to ignore those requests.” The corner of his lips tilts up as he huffs a laugh at his own joke. 

Suddenly, a branch snaps loudly not too far off the winding path the two of you have been strolling down. Osferth acts quickly, ever vigilant, and takes your hand to usher you behind him as he draws his sword. Your breath quickens as you peek around his shoulder, pressing yourself tightly against his back as your hand grips his; you’d been assured by Uhtred’s scouts that the forest surrounding camp was perfectly safe, but in these times danger seemed to creep up from every corner. 

A buck appears a little ways down the path, followed by two more deer, each sparing you and the monk only a quick glance before scampering into the forest once more. The two of you let out a collective sigh of relief as Osferth sheaths his sword with a shy smile. 

“Perhaps now would be a good time for a break, my lady?” He suggests with a soft smile, “We’ve been walking since morning.”

“I think we’ve earned a break,” you nod, gazing up at him through your lashes, the two of you still close enough that you could make out soft flecks of green in his blue eyes, “I believe I saw a clearing a few paces back.” 

“Lead the way.” Osferth nods, keeping in pace with you as you backtrack to where you’d spotted a lush clearing through the trees only moments ago. As you walk, nearly shoulder to shoulder, the monk silently takes your hand again, his rough fingers threading together with yours. Neither of you speaks, though you can nearly feel his pleased smile from your periphery, twin to your own. 

After only a few moments, you veer off the path as the two of you step into a sizable glade, the trees giving way to a field of tall grass. Your hands stay clasped as you walk together, basket still tucked in your elbow as you lift the skirts of your linen gown to prevent it from snagging on the high blades of grass; your chest tightens once more when you glance down and notice how Osferth takes great care to step over any flowers in his path, the ones that sprinkle the meadow with pops of yellow and lilac. 

Soon, you come to a spot where the ground seems to be drier, however the monk grasps your forearm to stop you as he slips the thin, grey wool cloak off his shoulders and drapes it over the ground.

“Osferth,” you gently admonish, though a smile does creep across your lips at the sweet gesture, “I am perfectly capable of sitting on the ground.”

“A lady should not have to,” he says simply, nodding to the cloak, “Please.”

With a final glance, and a good-natured roll of your eyes, you comply, setting your basket down before relaxing atop his robe. After making sure you’re settled, the monk joins you, setting his sword to the side as he sits and leans back on his hands, scanning the treeline. 

“It’s so lovely here…” you smile as you glance around, a soft breeze causing the grass to rustle around you.

Osferth sits up beside you, a relaxed smile on his lips as he takes your hand and pulls you closer to him. “I find the company to be far lovelier,” he whispers before capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, never taking more than you seem keen to give. The two of you easily fall into a lazy rhythm, your lips moving together as he guides you to lie against his chest. You lay your hand against his chest, right over his heart, thankful that he’s forgone his usual leather armor and chainmail today as you feel his warmth through the soft tunic he wears. 

He sighs against your lips, his fingers gently weaving into the locks of hair at the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine and making you cling to him all the more tightly, his other hand wrapping around your waist before settling in the small of your back, holding you to him. 

After a few moments, the two of you part to catch your breath and he studies you with a warm gaze as you relax against his chest. “We are meant to be stopping in a town tonight.” Osferth says simply. 

“That we are.” 

“We could get a room together,” he breathes, making you gasp as he trails kisses across your jaw, “Just the two of us.” 

Immediately, you tense up and untangle yourself from him, sitting up with a sigh. He quickly sits up next to you and you can feel him eyeing you with concern, though you dare not meet his gaze. 

“My lady, I didn't mean to offend you…” He says hesitantly, placing a hand on your shoulder. 

“You didn’t offend me, sweet monk,” you turn to him with a bashful smile, “I am simply…I don’t know if i’m ready.” 

“Ready for what?” His head tilts to the side as he eyes you curiously. 

You chuckle nervously, unsure of how to broach the topic. “Osferth, I have heard enough tales of your…prowess around the campfire to know that my skills do not match your own.” 

The crease between his brows only deepens as he continues staring at you, blue eyes flitting between your own. “My prowess?” 

“With more…intimate relations…” You say slowly, glancing away from him. 

“Oh,” he says softly before his eyes widen comically, a dark blush cascading over his fair cheeks, “Oh!”

You can’t help but laugh softly at his dumbstruck expression, your lips quirking up into a soft smile despite your nerves. 

The hand on your shoulder tightens as he leans closer to you. “My love, you need not fret over it,” he whispers, blue eyes conveying a deep seriousness, “We can get a room at the tavern and not do anything at all.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion – you’ve always been told to expect a very different answer from men. “What?”

He huffs out a soft laugh and pulls you back down to lie on the grass with him once more. “I mean what I say,” he says softly, one hand stroking your hair, “We can get a room and just kiss or cuddle or merely talk, I don’t care.” You look up from where you’ve had your cheek laying against his chest, the emotion in his eyes shocking you for a second, “I just want to be with you.” He whispers finally.

You can feel yourself blushing as he speaks, the apples of your cheeks heating up deliciously under his kind gaze. A girlish giggle erupts from your lips before you can stop it, which only makes him laugh too as you bury your head against his chest and bite your lip, breathing in his familiar scent of leather and campfire smoke. 

After a moment, the two of you calm down and you finally look back up at him, “Kissing sounds good…” you nearly whisper, suddenly shy as he surveys your face.

Osferth merely chuckles, low in his throat, and rolls the two of you over. Normally, this is when you’d be pushing any other man off of you with some mumbled excuse, but you can’t help but feel safe with the sandy haired monk, taking him at his word that whatever you were willing to give would be enough.

“We have time, and plenty of herbs already,” he rasps, his voice thick with an arousal you’d only heard on a very scant few occasions when the two of you had shared frantic kisses in the night once the rest of the men were asleep, “Why wait until tonight?”

A small giggle escapes you once again as the blush on your cheeks extends down, almost all the way to your chest, but you nod nonetheless, your arms coming up to snake around his neck as you pull him down to you. A small whimpery breath escapes you when his lips touch yours yet again, and he responds in kind with a low groan, the sound rumbling from his chest. His lips are soft against your own as the two of you move leisurely; once again, he lets you set the pace, only licking at your bottom lip after you do the same to him first. 

Your thighs spread as your kiss deepens and you moan again when he slots himself between your thighs, the linen of your dress hiked up just above your knees. A shiver rolls through you at the feel of him on top of you, so warm and weighty.

“Is this alright?” He breathes, navy eyes blinking between each of yours as he checks for any signs of discomfort from you, visibly relaxing when he finds none.

Wordlessly, you nod, bobbing your head eagerly as you pull him back down. His hands roam carefully over your body as your lips and tongues move together, breathlessly licking into each other's mouths. You whine into his mouth when you feel a hardness pressing against your center, a pleased hum emanating from your chest at the realization that you’ve affected him this much with only a kiss; the pride in your heart twists into something different, something deeper as a knot forms and begins tightening in your belly.

“My lady –” Osferth mumbles as he starts to pull away from you, an apologetic smile on his handsome face.

“Don’t!” You say quickly, tugging him back to you and surprising even yourself as you wrap your legs around his trim waist, “Please, I – It’s good.” You confirm breathlessly, eyebrows quirked up with need as you look up at him through your lashes. 

“Yeah?” He asks, unable to wipe the pleased grin off his face as he settles back on top of you, careful to keep most of his weight off of you as he presses against your center again.

You nod, already threading your fingers into the short hair at the back of his head to draw his lips back to yours. A breathy, high-pitched moan leaves you at the feel of his clothed length pressing against you, the ties at the front of his breeches only adding to the pleasurable sensations that zap through you as he starts rolling his hips against your own.

His pace quickens as he breaks away from you, panting against your skin as he traces wet kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your head lolls to the side as you whimper and whine underneath him, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you feel his hard cock twitch against you, even through the fabric of your smallclothes.

You’re quick to match his pace, using the leverage of your legs wrapped around his middle to ruck yourself up into each thrust, earning grunts of pleasure from the monk. 

“My lady,” he groans, one hand fisting into your hair as the other trails down to run appreciatively over the bare skin of your thigh, “Y-You are bewitching.” He gasps, mouthing at your neck, his cock no doubt leaking into the leather of his trousers. 

Your only reply is a choked out moan of his name as your back arches underneath him, the knot in your belly winding tighter and tighter as the ties of his breeches rub over your pearl deliciously, your smallclothes no doubt soaked. 

Blessedly, Osferth seems to understand the desperation in your voice and movements and pulls back to look at you, both of his hands quickly grasping yours, fingers threading together as he holds them to the earth beside your head.

 “Sweet girl,” he grunts as he gazes down at you, a rosy blush cascading beautifully over his high cheekbones, “P-Peak, my lady, please,” he pants as his fingers tighten against your own, “I’m, God be good, I’m right behind you.”

You nod frantically, your only sound a choked out sob as you tense underneath him when his hips rut perfectly against yours, the knots of his pants catching against your sensitive bud in just the right way to tip you over the edge. You twitch underneath him, white knuckling his hands when you feel your center clenching helplessly around nothing as pleasure buzzes through you. 

Osferth reaches his end mere seconds after you, humping against you two or three more times before tensing, his eyes squeezing shut as his own high washes over him, cock spasming in his breeches as his spend leaks into the waiting fabric. 

“You’re beautiful,” you declare softly, the words tumbling from your lips as soon as you think of them.

The monk blushes somehow more heavily above you, though a soft smile graces his lips. With a soft sigh, he falls to his side, bringing you with him. Your cheek once again finds its home against his chest and you smile at the sound of his heart thumping wildly as he pulls you closely to him, one arm wrapping protectively around you as he tucks the other under his head, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“You flatter me, my lady,” he says lowly, a pleased rasp to his voice. “You are truly an angel,” he continues after a moment, “A beautiful, precious angel.”

You smile contentedly, his heart thudding steadily in your ear as you let your eyes drift shut, happy to stay in this still, safe bubble with your monk for as long as the outside world will allow.

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

[roseblue373s-recs]

This came across my dash again, so I HAVE to reblog it, because it was just that good!! SMUFF!!! (with some angst to make the fluff that much fluffier!)

FwB - Master List

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: FwB - Friends with Benefits.

After walking in on Y/N following a fun encounter, Dean and Y/N decide it would be beneficial and much easier to use each other for their needs. But can they keep it just about sex?

Warning: NSFW. Smut (in case the title was not obvious) and 18+ themes and language.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary:

FwB - Friends with Benefits.

After walking in on Y/N following a fun encounter, Dean and Y/N decide it would be beneficial and much easier to use each other for their needs. But can they keep it just about sex?

Warning: NSFW. Smut (in case the title was not obvious) and 18+ themes and language.

COMPLETE!

The Proposition

Feels Like the First Time

The Rule Book

Discretion, Thy Name is Dean

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

The Dinner Date

Shower Sex is Complicated. So Are Feelings

Goodbye, Stranger. It's been Nice

Nothing Heals a Broken Heart Like a Broken Rib

Blurred Lines

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Collision Course

14/12: Blizzard and Blowjob - Ettore Word Count: 2.7k~ | Warnings: dub-con, face fucking, Ettore is a dick yada yada, facial

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

A/N: I was on something nasty when I wrote this FYI

“Dibs says there’s gonna be a solar storm soon. With any luck it’ll take us with it”, Mink mutters distastefully between bites of lumpy, cold rations.

“Hm..” 

“What’s that old cunt gonna do when it hits? Not like we have any escape pods.”

“Yeah…” she murmurs half-heartedly in response, only partially listening. Lost in the repetitive motion of pushing her food around her plate with a fork. It doesn’t even look edible, she thinks with displeasure. They’re all dying on this stupid ship, and somehow the rations look worse off.

Mink flicks her hand against her arm, prompting a sharp look, “Ow! What the fuck—”

“You’re not listening to me.”

She scoffs, rubbing her arm in more of a theatrical way than to show it actually hurt. “So?”

“The hell’s wrong with you? You’ve been weird a few days now.”

It’s been longer than that, is all she thinks with bitterness. About a week now she’d wager. 

Longer than that, really, she thinks with a familiar bitterness. About a week, she figures, maybe a little more. She’d known getting involved would be a bad idea. She knew better than to get involved with him, to anyone on this miserable tin can. But there had been that inescapable pull, that sharp ache that was part loneliness, part hormones maybe, stupid as it seemed now. And now, she was paying for it.

Mink’s voice pulls her back. “Is this about… Ettore?”

The name hangs in the air like smoke. She freezes, doesn’t answer, just stares hard at her plate. Mink leans closer, her brows drawn.

“Oh, come on. You think I didn’t notice?”

She wants to lie, but somehow, she doesn’t have the energy to. So, she shrugs, and that’s enough to make Mink snort.

“Thought you were smarter than that,” Mink says, and it’s not unkind, exactly, just blunt in the way only Mink can be. “You know what kind of guy he is.”

She sighs, finally pushing her tray aside. There’s no point pretending the food’s worth eating. "I’m not exactly winning any prizes for smart decisions lately, am I?"

Mink snorts. Glad she’s finding this amusing, she thinks bitterly, but really holding no resentment. 

“We have enough on our plate without getting tangled up with wanting dick. Not to mention it’s against the rules.”

“I’m aware,” she states bleakly, feeling that familiar flicker of irritation at the reminder. As if she needed another living soul to tell her what she could and couldn’t do. She’d done the worst things imaginable to end up here, as had everyone else, and yet that slimy, smirking doctor was gonna tell her she couldn’t fuck whoever she wanted? 

That was the reasoning initially anyway.

Now, she knew there’d be consequences if Dibs did find out. Punishment in the form of what metal instrument she could shove into their bodies next. 

As much as she enjoyed the release. It wasn’t worth that. Besides, she knew there was never any future in it. Never anything more than a few stolen moments in the middle of the night. A bit of relief in the endless monotony of living in the hollow, metal hell of this ship.

“I’m done, anyway,” she says, almost to herself, “should have stopped it before it started really.”

“Should’ve, but you didn’t. But you’ve given him a taste now. Who says he’ll want to stop?”

She sighs, eyes closed. Yeah, I’d considered that.

Ettore wasn’t the type to let go of his toys easily. Especially when he’d been given something he wants, something forbidden that he knows could be taken away. It seemed that the thrill wasn’t even in the sex, it was breaking the rules that had half the appeal. 

“If he pushes, he’ll get the message I give him.”

“Sure, but he’s not exactly the type to take ‘no’ for an answer, is he?”

“No,” she admits, looking off. As usual, Mink was right there. 

She had seen that look in Ettore’s eyes, the one that says he’s already decided what he wants, and nothing will stand in his way to get it. The thought had been exhilarating at first, that singular, dangerous focus. Now, it feels like a liability, a choice she wishes she could rewrite. 

“As much as I hate to give you ammunition, you are right,” she adds, “I gave him an inch, and he’ll think he’s got the whole mile. But I’ll handle it. Somehow.” She doesn’t know exactly how yet, but one thing was clear.

She could not keep going down this path, not with the risk getting sharper and closer by the day.

When she’s alone again, the silence presses in, heavier now, weighted with the knowledge of what comes next. She takes a breath, bracing herself for the inevitable fallout. Ettore may come looking, but this time, she’s ready to hold her ground.

Maybe, she thinks, the clean break will be worth it, if she can manage it before he pulls her back in again.

The worst part of trying to keep her distance from Ettore was the way it left her awake at night, her body a knot of unresolved tension that refused to let her sleep. She lay there, wide-eyed in her bunk, staring up at the dull, metallic ceiling and then over at the other bed, where Mink was already sound asleep, breathing evenly.

Bitch, she thought with a pang of envy. 

Mink never had trouble sleeping in this place, not like she did, tossing and turning every night, gnawed at by this frustrating, white-hot need she couldn’t shake.

She shifted, but no matter how much she tried to will it away, her mind continued to drift back to the last time she’d been with Ettore. How it had felt to give in, to let that need unravel. She could still feel the press of his hands on her hips, the roughness of his touch as if he needed it as much as she did, the intense look he had given her that made her forget the rules and her situation. The risk. Everything but him. She’d wanted to stop it, she really had.

But when she had him once, that familiar fire burned in his eyes, and it was hopeless to resist.

Now she was paying for it. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to erase the memory. But the tightening in her stomach, the craving, was near unbearable. 

Must be ovulating or something, she thought bitterly back to her last appointment with Dibs.

She was sick of lying here, wallowing in horny self pity. Glancing over at Mink, she saw she hadn’t moved an inch. The cold air hit her bare legs as she swung out of bed, not even having the effort to pull anything else on as she made the mercifully short journey to the Box. She hated using it. But any relief at this point was welcomed. 

Making her way down the steel ladder, she groaned and wanted to smash her head against the nearest wall when she found it occupied. 

At least the washers are on. Whoever’s in there better be out in ten seconds flat or else–

The door slid open with a hiss. Ettore stared right back. Surprise at first perhaps. But the shadows darkened over his eyes, looking her up and down.

Fuck.

And if that wasn’t bad enough.

The alarms blared to life, shrieking through the narrow corridors as the ship jolted under the force, lights flickering wildly. A shiver shot through her, but before she could shove past him, he reached out, his fingers closing firmly around her arm.

“Ettore, let go,” she hissed, trying to pull back, but his grip only tightened, and there was a glint in his eyes that made her pulse jump.

“Not a chance,” he murmured, a dark edge to his voice.

He moved quickly, pulling her into the Box with him as the door slid shut behind them with a heavy clang. The sound of the emergency lock echoed around them, trapping them in the confined, dimly lit room. She tried to turn, to make for the door controls, but it was useless, the ship’s emergency protocol had sealed them in tight. 

Emergency. Solar Storm. Automatic shutdown is in effect.

She was locked in with him, and judging by the way he was watching her, Ettore had no intentions of keeping his hands to himself.

With an annoyed huff, she slammed her palms against the door, the low light in the Box now charged with thrumming red glints of warning lights. Steadying her breath, she turned to him, schooling her expression to something calm in the face of his low, dangerous one.

He was not happy.

“You've been avoiding me.”

It wasn’t a question. He stood tall, blocking her like some predator in a cage, his jaw tight and his eyes burning with accusation.

“Maybe I have,” she said, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, trying to appear calm even though her pulse was racing. “Take the hint.”

Ettore’s lips curled into a humourless smirk. “That’s not how this works.”

“And here I thought this wasn’t supposed to be anything,” she scoffed right back.

“It wasn’t.” He stepped closer, and she pressed her back to the wall, her defiance faltering. “But then you decided to ignore me, and now it is.”

She swallowed, trying to do the same to the rising discomfort as he caged her in, trying to cover how she felt with her voice.

“You're all talk,” she says low, firm. “Trying to intimidate me. What you gonna do, hm? I bet you can't even get it up.”

The flash of anger in his eyes made her breath hitch. And yet, there was something about it that made her want to push him more.

He moved then, so fast she barely had time to react. One hand slammed against the wall beside her head, his body crowding hers. She should’ve been scared, should’ve shoved him away, but the sheer heat rolling off him pinned her in place.

His other came to her neck, fingers curling around her flesh, slow, deliberate, as if daring her to stop. But her lips parted slightly, exhaling so soft it was near imperceptible. She watched the pulsing red light on the side of his face, casting sharp shadows on his skin where his features were carved out.

And found she didn't want him to stop.

She swallowed hard, her bravado crumbling as his touch ignited something low and insistent in her belly. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She’d come here to forget him, to regain control, but now, locked in this room with him, her control was slipping fast.

“I hate you,” she whispered.

“No, you don’t.”

Ettore’s hands were on her, firm and unyielding as he grabbed and pulled her toward the bench that stood in the middle of the dim room. She stumbled, jerking against his grip, but he didn’t let go.

“Ettore, what the hell are you doing?” she demanded, her voice rising as she struggled against him.

“Stop fighting,” he muttered, the edge in his voice sharpening as he manoeuvred her onto the bench.

She tried to push herself up, her palms bracing against the hard surface, but he was already lowering her down, his strength undeniable as he guided her head to the edge of the bench. Her neck arched uncomfortably as she twisted, glaring up at him.

“Ettore, I mean it, what the fuck are you doing?”

His hand gripped her chin, tilting her head back so she had no choice but to look up at him. The dark hunger in his eyes sent a jolt through her, half fear, half something else entirely. Stood tall over her, head level with his strained crotch.

“I’m gonna feel your throat around me.”

Her pulse thundered in her ears, watching as he pulled his erection free of his sweatpants. Her mouth went dry, a mixture of anticipation and panic rising in her gut.

“And you're gonna take every fucking inch.”

She barely had a moment to even speak, before his cock head was prying her lips apart, his length sliding mercilessly into her mouth without care of comfort. Just the idea that he was looking down, watching, as she took him, her throat trying to close around him.

Her hands instinctively rose to push at his hips, her palms flat against the hard muscles beneath his sweatpants, but he didn’t stop. His hand tangled in her hair, holding her in place as he drove himself deeper, filling her mouth until she could feel the head of him brushing against the back of her throat.

Her eyes watered, her nails digging into his hips, but he didn’t relent, his other hand gripping the edge of the bench for leverage as he rocked his hips, sliding deeper with each thrust.

Just the idea that he was looking down, watching her struggle to take him, sent a strange thrill coursing through her, a mix of frustration, humiliation, and something far darker.

He groaned, his grip on her hair tightening as he angled her head just the way he wanted. “That's it,” he breathed darkly.

Her throat clenched around him as he pushed deeper, his hips rocking with steady, deliberate thrusts that left no room for her to adjust. The stretch was intense, her lips aching as they strained around his girth. Her gag reflex fluttered again, her eyes squeezing shut as she tried to suppress the instinct, but Ettore wasn't about to let her hide.

"Don't close your eyes," he said sharply, following with a light smack to her cheek.

Her cheeks burned with humiliation, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. The smug satisfaction on his face only made her breath hotter, stuck in her chest.

"God, you're such a mess," he said, his voice dripping with mockery as he watched her struggle to accommodate him. "Look at you. Choking on me like it's the first time you've ever done this.”

Her lungs burned for air. He was relentless, thrusting into her mouth as if it were just another hole for him to claim. Each slide into her throat was deeper than the last, and the vibration of her whimpering around him made him groan out loudly.

His hand slid to her neck, as if to feel himself in her throat, squeezing experimentally, stimulating himself through her flesh in some lewd, completely wrong but erotic way.

"You feel that?" he said, his voice low and strained, using the grip he had on throat as leverage to pull her onto him harshly. “Bet you can't even breathe.”

His pace grew erratic, his grip tightening painfully as he chased his release. "Fuck," he growled, his voice breaking as his head tipped back for a moment.

Suddenly, he pulled back, his cock slipping from her mouth with a slick gasp of air that left her coughing, her chest heaving. Before she could gather her bearings or even protest, his hand was still firm in her hair, holding her in place as he stroked himself roughly.

Her stomach twisted, shame and anger warring with the simmering heat in her belly. "Ettore, don't-"

"Shut up," he cut her off, his tone sharp as his thumb angled her face up toward him. "You wanted to push me? Then take it."

She barely had time to process the words before his release hit her skin, hot and thick. He groaned deeply, his body jerking with each pulse, the sound low and guttural as he painted her face with his cum.

The humiliation burned hotter than her anger, her hands clenched into fists at her sides as he finished, the sticky warmth dripping down her cheeks, her lips. She wanted to wipe it away, to shove him off, but the way he looked at her, satisfied, smug, and utterly in control, froze her in place.

"Look at you," he muttered, his thumb smearing the mess across her cheek almost mockingly. "So fucking pretty like this.”

She glared up at him, her voice hoarse as she spat, "You're disgusting."

Ettore only laughed, the sound dark and unapologetic as he tucked himself back into his sweatpants. "You're the one who came crawling to me."

The door hissed open as the emergency protocols finally deactivated, the solar storm subsiding and red lights receding to normality. Ettore stepped back, the smirk never leaving his face as he looked her over one last time, his eyes lingering on the mess he'd made.

"Clean yourself up," he said lazily, turning toward the door. "Wouldn't want anyone to see you like that, would we?"

General Taglist:

@1lluminaticonfirmed @aemondsfavouritebastard @all-for-aemond @bellstwd @blackswxnn

@blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @cl-0-vr @eddieslut69

@emmaisafictionwhore @eponaartemisa @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @nixiefics

@primonizzutto @qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @sheshellsseashells

[noosayog]

THE NATURE OF LONGING

... is that the heart only wants for what it can't have.

fushiguro toji x fem!reader

contents: nsfw, non-curse au, arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn, lots of angst, fluff, eventual smut, each part will have its own cw/tw

wc: 4.3k as of part 1, no release schedule

Taglist: OPEN, send an ask!

MDNI

part 1

part 2

part 3

[happilyhertale]

Shared future – Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Summary: As on so many other nights, your betrothed Daemon sneaks into your chambers. But tonight he has other plans for you.

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x fem!niece!reader

Warnings: Smut; 18+; NSFW; Oral (f receiving); Fingering

Author’s note: English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 1.6 k

Shared future Masterlist

Other stories of mine

12 days of smuff

As the last candlelight fades, you retreat into the cosy embrace of your bed, snuggled up in the warmth of your blanket. Listening to the muffled sounds of the night, you wait patiently for the inevitable. Quickly and quietly, the hidden door in the wall of your chambers swings open, an enchanting routine that unfolds with each passing night. Your gaze turns to the entrance, a smile curling your lips as a figure with silvered hair slips gracefully into the room.

A slight bite on your lip betrays your anticipation, and your grin widens as your betrothed approaches. He removes his waistcoat and trousers and lies down in bed with you, immediately wrapping you in his arms. The gentle press of his lips against your hair, soft kisses and the familiar rumble emanating from his chest create an intimate atmosphere that you never dreamed possible with your future husband.

His fingers run over your form with a delicate touch, caressing the soft expanse of your skin. To the outside world, the rogue prince may appear to be a figure without such tenderness. But inside your chambers, a transformation is taking place – he longs to give you tenderness. And he has mastered the art of cuddling and caressing to perfection – and he honours your wish to defer the surrender of your maidenhead for the time being.

But that doesn't mean he keeps his fingers still. Daemon has already driven you to ecstasy countless times and pushed you to the limit. He has made you squirm and whimper and awakened a desire in you that makes you crave more and more.

His fingers slide southwards, but somehow it feels different this time. His fingers seem greedier and there's another slight grumble in his chest as he gently kneads your bum. "Love... come on, sit on my face," he suddenly murmurs into your neck as gentle kisses caress your skin. And never before has the blush rushed to your face so quickly.

"What...?" you mumble a little incredulously and feel a grin forming on his lips.

"Sit on my face..." he repeats, gripping your bum a little tighter.

"I-I heard you..." you whisper, "but... your face?". The familiar warmth in your lower abdomen spreads despite your irritation as memories of the wonders Daemon can perform with his tongue come to your mind.

A slight growl sounds again and vibrates in his chest, "I expect my future wife to take a seat on my face with her elegant arse... so that I can enjoy her to the full," he murmurs.

You're lost for words – not even a "what" leaves your lips. And as the silence spreads throughout your chambers, Daemon slowly pulls his head back and turns his gaze towards you. His purple eyes meet yours and he simply grins, enjoying the fact that you are at a loss for an answer. His princess, who is never at a loss for words, is speechless.

You're breathing a little heavily, your lips are slightly parted, but you feel his hands suddenly grab your hips and make you move slightly. Your gasp fills the air of your chambers, but you follow his movement.

"Daemon..." you say quietly, but you only feel his hands gripping the back of your thighs as you sit astride him. He smiles at you, and although you usually can't get enough of his smile, you know he's happy that you're so shy right now, and you'd love nothing more than to make him suffer right now.

His big hands don't let go of your thighs and push you further up and instead of a cheeky statement, you just gasp a soft "Daemon" as your hands grab the headboard of your bed and your warm core hovers right above his face.

You bite your lip lightly and look down. His smile remains hidden from you, but you are sure that the grin has not left his lips. His hands slowly slide up the back of your thighs under your nightgown and are suddenly on your bum. He grips it firmly, making you whimper, and then you feel him pull you down. The unforgettable sensation floods through you as his tongue glides through your folds. You whimper again and your hands literally dig into the wood of your bed.

Another "Daemon" escapes your lips and breaks the silence as he begins to slide his tongue inside you. His hands push you further down, further onto his face, letting his tongue penetrate you deeper. The worry that he might not get enough air leaves your mind as his tongue glides all the way through your wet folds and the vibration of his moan literally flows through you.

You moan as his tongue caresses your bundle of nerves. He only chuckles softly as you breathe heavily and moan again. But the artistry of his tongue doesn't let up. Not even when you finally grab your nightgown and pull it over your head.

It falls to the floor beside your bed, accompanied by Daemon's grunts as you move your hips and he continues to pleasure you with his tongue. He savours the sounds of your pleasure, the way your body writhes above him as he devours you with a possessive hunger.

He buries his face deep inside your most intimate part of your body as you suddenly feel him insert two fingers inside you.

As his lips close around your sensitive bundle of nerves again and he begins to suck, your moans echo through your chambers as his fingers continue to penetrate you. Daemon's tongue dances over your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to elicit another moan from your lips. He plunges deeper, his tongue swirling around inside you, soaking up every drop of your arousal.

As if of your own accord, you push your cunt further towards him, wanting – no, needing – to feel more. Daemon grunts slightly as he senses how eager you are, angles his fingers differently and rubs the rough patch deep inside you.

"You like that, don't you?" he purrs against your folds, his voice full of satisfaction. "You like it when I taste you, when I make you cum," he growls as his tongue flicks faster and harder, his hand on your hip tightening as he pushes you closer to the edge. He's determined to bring you to the peak of pleasure, to make you scream his name once more.

But you can only moan loudly and bite your lip quickly so as not to make too much noise. But Daemon is watching you closely as he savours you. Your eyes are closed and you relish all his movements and caresses. Your mouth is open, but your breathing is intermittent and a whimper that ends in a moan leaves your lips.

Daemon inserts another finger into you and you cry out a little. Your one hand slides from the headboard of your bed into his hair, gripping it tightly as his tongue circles your clit faster and his fingers thrust into you.

"Daemon... Daemon... Daemon..." escapes your lips again and again as you breathe heavily. You feel him moan again as he notices how your cunt begins to clench around his fingers. And then it comes over you – you cry out slightly again as you come. Your eyes are closed as your hips continue to move.

But this time it feels different.

"Daemon.. stop," you whimper as his lips close tightly around your pearl again, his fingers thrusting further into you.

"Daemon..." you whimper again as a strong pressure builds up inside you. But he only growls again as his fingers continue their work, sucking even harder on your clit. Your eyes open again, your breathing quickens and you realise from his gaze that he's not going to stop.

"Daemon, stop!" you gasp, trying to sound serious. But then it happens. You cry out again slightly as the pressure suddenly eases, then moan out loud.

Daemon grunts loudly, swallows all your elixir and savours how you lose yourself completely in ecstasy. When the overwhelming feeling subsides, you look down into his eyes again. Your breathing hasn't calmed down yet, your cheeks are all flushed. Daemon sucks on your pearl one last time before letting go of you. You move slightly away from his face as his lips release you. A grin plays around his lips – his lips and chin are soaked.

You bite your lips a little embarrassed, "Daemon... I-I made a mess," you whisper.

Daemon wipes his mouth with his hand and pulls you down to him in one movement, wrapping you in his arms.

"I don't want to hear that, love..." he murmurs, showering you with soft kisses.

"My wife won't apologise for the climaxes she's about to experience... I want her to enjoy the full ecstasy," he whispers.

You look at him and suddenly a warmth flows through you that has never made you feel so good. You lean your head slightly in his direction and kiss his lips, your lips meet almost greedily and move in unison.

Over the muscles of his chest and stomach, your hand glides gently to his crotch and he responds with a slight growl as you rub his hard manhood, which presses almost desperately against his undergarments.

"Love... don't start something you can't finish..." he whispers against your lips.

But your fingers continue to glide slowly along his length, "Then.. show me how to finish it," you whisper a little shyly.

Daemon hesitates, looking at you questioningly as you suddenly free yourself from his arms and move downwards, just grinning slightly. As you kneel between his legs, you pull his undergarments down. His hard member springs free and you bite your lips as you see it twitch slightly.

"Show me..." you whisper a little uncertainly and look up at him a little helplessly. But Daemon just nods slightly and guides your hand to his hard member.

@hoshi-miharu-blog @arryn-nyx @aemonds-eyeball @praline357 @melsunshine @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @lauftivy @valeskafics @bl4ckph0enix @autumnhymns @fan-goddess @msmorningstaarr @dreamlandcreations @hopelesswritergall @wetbitchlibrary @aemondsbabe

[aemondsbabe]

Making Amends

summary: a fancy party & praising || you finally see why michael hates going home for the holidays and treat him the way he deserves

pairing: michael gavey x f!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, breast/nipple play, heavy praise, riding, brief cockwarming, cursing, brief mention of daddy kink but it’s not used, dirty talk, angy michael (not at reader), angst but happy ending, parents being stupid, choking, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 3.4k

a/n: happy day twelve of 12 days of smuff!!! we did it!!! a very merry christmas to all those who celebrate; i hope your holidays are full of love and fun! I hope y’all enjoy this one & i look forward to writing many more stories in the new year!

TAUNT | Part 1

PRAISE | Taunt Part 2

this one can be read as a continuation of taunt & praise or as a stand alone!!

12 days of smuff masterlist!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!

“Ohh, Michael!” An older woman croons, making you and your boyfriend turn your heads at the same time, “How lovely to see you!” 

“Nice to see you too, Aunt Janet.” Michael says, his voice monotone, and gives the woman an awkward half-hug. You give him a sympathetic grin when he rolls his eyes at you over her shoulder.

“And who is this?” She asks, turning to look you up and down with a smile.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Michael explains, taking a second to introduce the two of you, “We met at uni.” 

“Nice to meet you.” You smile politely and shake her hand. 

“How wonderful!” She turns to you and puts a hand on your forearm before leaning in slightly with a grin, “We were beginning to give up on this one ever finding someone to put up with him!” She grins, giggling like it’s the funniest joke in the world. 

You merely awkwardly chuckle, though it only takes one glance at Michael to know he’s fuming. You can’t really blame him, this is how it’s been all evening, ever since you’d arrived at his parents house. Michael had tried to talk you out of accompanying him to their annual Christmas party, claiming that hell would be a lesser punishment, but you’d insisted, saying it couldn’t be that bad. 

When you’d first pulled up to the Gavey’s home, you’d been excited! They’d gone all out with the decorations, though Michael claimed they usually did, but that didn’t stop you from marveling at all the garland, lights, and wreaths that adorned every inch of the house. And since this year’s party was apparently more formal than usual, that just gave you the chance to ogle at your boyfriend in a tux, which was an automatic win in your book.

And yet, here you are, listening to yet another joke at Michael’s expense and hating every second of it. It seemed like every relative and family friend had one in store, if it wasn’t about finally finding someone to put up with him, it was about what he must’ve done to bribe you into it, or that he must be paying you to be here. Not to mention the backhanded compliments; you’d grown so tired of hearing remarks about how they’re so happy that Michael had finally found someone or, “Oh, finally! Took him long enough!” 

“Old fucking bat,” Michael mutters under his breath as Aunt Janet totters off, “Knew we shouldn’t have come.” He grumbles, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“M’sorry, babe,” you sigh, giving him a small half smile as you place a comforting hand on his leg, “I don’t understand why they can’t simply be nice.

He scoffs next to you, rolling his eyes with a sardonic smile, “Wouldn’t be a real Gavey Christmas without snide comments, fucking losers.” 

The evening continues in the same fashion and suddenly you understand why Michael has always been so defensive and eager to prove himself, you would be too in a family like this. 

You can tell your boyfriend is operating on a very short fuse and offer him a placating smile every time you notice him clenching his jaw or notice his breathing pick up, chest heaving under his black suit jacket. 

However, it’s finally a comment his father makes during dinner that sets him off. You’ve hardly started eating when it happens, with everyone sitting around the Gavey’s impressively large dining room table passing various dishes back and forth. 

“So,” Mrs. Gavey started, giving Michael a pointed look as she refilled her glass of wine, “How were your marks this term?” 

You glance down in time to see your boyfriend white knuckle his fork and quickly stroke a hand over his knee, which seems to help lessen his tension somewhat, thankfully. 

“Distinctions,” he answers dryly, keeping his eyes fixed on the table, “Obviously.” 

His mom simply nods, not offering any praise or even a generic, “Well done,” much to your surprise. 

And a few seconds later, everything blows up. 

“How’s that friend of yours doing?” Mr. Gavey butts in, setting his steak knife down as he speaks, “What was his name? Owen… Oscar, maybe?” 

“Oliver.” Michael corrects him, so quickly and quietly that you’re surprised his dad even catches it. 

“Oliver! Of course, and how’s he doing? Hm? You haven’t mentioned him in some time.” 

There’s a beat of silence in which you fight the urge to kick Mr. Gavey under the table, knowing exactly where this would go. 

“We don’t… talk anymore. I haven’t seen him for ages.” He grits out; his leg tenses up under your palm once again when his mother lets out a disappointed sigh, as if she were getting ready to scold a small child. 

“Michael, honestly,” she starts with a small shake of her head, “It’s not good for you to be so socially isolated all the time.” 

“I’m fine.”

“What about that other boy you used to go around with, hm?” His mom continues on, seemingly oblivious to his foul mood, “The one you were so close to in primary school, oh, he was lovely.” 

“Felix, wasn’t it?” Mr. Gavey quips, “Whatever happened to him? I always thought he had such a good head on his shoulders.” 

“He’s a cunt.” Your boyfriend seethes lowly, all but vibrating with rage as he spits each word out. 

“What was that, dear?” His mom asks, none the wiser. 

“He’s a cunt!” Michael exclaims, his fork clattering across the table as he tosses it down, scraping his chair back across the floor. 

“Michael!” Mrs. Gavey chides, a horrified look on her normally placid face as she, quite literally, clutches at her pearls. 

“If you’ll fucking excuse me.” Michael mutters, tossing his cloth napkin down onto the table with a dull thud before retreating from the table with a growl. 

The silence that follows is deafening as everyone stays frozen at the table for a moment; you have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing at the shell shocked expression on his grandmother’s face. 

After a beat, Mr. and Mrs. Gavey begin falling all over themselves to apologize, awkwardly laughing as they make excuses for Michael, as if their bullying hadn’t made him snap. 

“I’m gonna go check on him,” you say after a moment, giving polite smiles to his parents as you stand from the table, “Just to make sure he’s okay.” 

“Of course, dear,” his mother nods sagely, ever the beacon of motherly wisdom, “We know how sensitive little Michael is.” 

As soon as your back is turned you roll your eyes, nose wrinkling in disgust. Little Michael? What the fuck? 

It only takes you a minute to locate him upstairs as you quickly spot the door to his childhood bedroom tightly closed. You smile sadly as you walk over to it, you pause for a moment before knocking softly. 

“Michael?” You call, pressing an ear against the door, “You in there?” Your brows furrow when you hear a small sniffle from the other side of the door and your hand automatically goes to the doorknob, a sigh of relief leaving you when it easily turns. 

Your heart breaks when you push the door open and peek inside, quickly spotting Michael on his bed, head in his hands, shoulders shaking. 

“Oh,” you breathe, hastily closing the door as you let yourself into his room, “Michael.” You sigh, sitting beside him on his small twin bed and slinging an arm around his shoulders. 

“M’fine…” He says softly, dejectedly. 

“You are not,” you pull him to you, rubbing a hand over his bicep as you hold him closely, “No one would expect you to be, not after all that.” 

He merely nods and tucks his head into your neck, sniffling sadly as his blond hair tickles your chin, one arm wraps around you while he busies himself with plucking lightly at the hem of your dress, running his finger over the smooth satin seam. 

“You wanna talk about it?” You ask softly, pressing a sweet kiss to the crown of his head. 

“Not tonight,” his voice is muffled slightly against your collarbone as he speaks, “Please.” 

You nod, opting to stay quiet and simply hold him for the time being. 

You don’t know how much time passes but eventually, he seems to calm down, at least his shoulders stop trembling and he stops rubbing at his eyes and sniffling. 

Finally, once his breathing has evened out, you decide to speak up. 

“They don’t deserve you.” You murmur, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze, your heart twisting when you see his beautiful blue eyes rimmed with red. 

“Love…” He sighs, ready to fight you on it. 

“That’s all I wanted to say,” you assure him quickly, “They don’t.” 

You hold his face in your hands gently, studying him with a soft smile. He really did look delectable in his suit, so smartly put together and polished. 

Michael must be feeling the same way, no doubt riding the small high that usually came after a solid rush of emotion. His eyes darken as he looks back at you, Adam’s apple bobbing enticingly in his throat as he swallows thickly. 

You don’t know who moves first, unable to find it within yourself to care as his warm lips slot perfectly against your own. 

A relieved groan sounds from his chest and his hands immediately come up to cup your waist, his thumbs rubbing appreciatively over the soft material of your dress as you shiver, already getting lost in his touch. 

“Mikey,” you murmur, biting into your lower lip as he kisses down across your jaw, his hands scrambling to pull you into his lap, “S-Should we?” Your voice trembles as he gently sucks at the sensitive spot on your neck, drawing your mind further and further from the party taking place downstairs. 

“Need you,” he rasps, unable to stop himself from smirking as you keen against him when he skirts his hands up your form to cup your breasts through your dress, your nipples already hard and wanting against the satin, “Just – I need you, love.”

He’s so desperate, you couldn’t say no and finally decide to throw caution to the wind. You smile triumphantly as you run your hands over his trim waist, tucking them under his jacket to get closer to him, savoring the feel of his warm skin even through the thin material of his button down. 

Finally, you push the suit jacket off his shoulders and, needing to feel him against you, waste no time hastily undoing the buttons on his shirt, yanking it out from under his trousers and belt before quickly dropping both to the floor. 

Apparently just as impatient, Michael chooses to simply push the thin straps of your dress off of your shoulders and growls deeply when your dress falls down your chest, exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze. Without missing a beat, he pulls you closer to him, groaning as your core presses tightly against his still-clothed erection. As soon as your chest is level with his face, he mouths at the underside of your breast, cupping the other in his hand. He peers up at you through his glasses, already fogging up against his cheeks, as he wraps his pink lips around your nipple and gingerly sucks it into his mouth, groaning against your supple skin at the breathy moan you let out. 

You hold his head against your chest, fingers gripping tightly at his short hair as your head tilts back, small whimpers and whines escaping past your lips as you try your best to stay quiet. Your hips seem to move of their own accord, rocking against him as he worships your breasts. 

“Michael,” you whimper, your core clenching tightly when you look down and take in his flushed face. You press your lips against his again, frantically kissing him as your tongue invades his mouth, “What do you want?”

“You.” His reply is automatic, his hands kneading greedily at your tits as he stares up at you, bare chest already heaving. 

You can’t help but chuckle a little, pride blooming in your chest at the fact that he’s already this strung out. Nevertheless, you give a quick shake of your head, smirking when he whines impatiently. 

“How do you want me, Mikey?” 

The desperate look behind his eyes softens instantly, his pink lips parting enough to reveal the tiniest sliver of his front teeth. Somehow, he blushes more and just barely shakes his head at you, swallowing thickly like he always does when he’s flustered. 

“Can you be on top?” He asks quietly, blue eyes flitting between yours behind his gold-rimmed glasses, “I just – I don’t have it in me to be daddy tonight, love.” He confesses quickly.

You chuckle again, always impressed with him when he shows his more vulnerable side, and instantly you nod, cupping his soft cheeks again. 

“Of course I can do that,” you keep your voice soft, even the small kiss you give him is soft, “Lay back for me, yeah? I don’t wanna wait.”

  Nodding eagerly, he doesn’t waste time and leans back on the narrow bed, helping you climb atop him as he does. He groans appreciatively as you settle on his hips, licking his lips as he stares up at you. He watches as your breasts heave with every breath while his hands trace down over your hips to cup your ass. 

“You’re so beautiful, love,” he murmurs, tugging your dress up over your bum before kneading the supple flesh, watching intently as you whimper above him, “So soft and pretty and fuck– fucking perfect.” He finishes with a growl, blue eyes rolling back when you rock down against him. 

Heat courses through your veins at his words and you hurry to undo his belt, the metal buckle tinkling softly in the quiet of his bedroom as you push it to the side, too frantic to bother to pull it off him entirely. Your fingers quickly find the button of his trousers and you all but yank them open the second you have the zipper undone, sighing happily as his hard cock bobs against his stomach, the head already flushed and steadily leaking. 

“Jesus Christ,” he groans, his back arching a little with the relief of his erection finally being freed, “Y’gonna ride me, princess?”

“Mhm,” you nod with a smirk, wiggling on his lap as you situate yourself perfectly above his length, “You deserve to be taken care of, Michael.” You coo softly, bending forward a little to pull your lacy underwear to the side, not having the patience to properly remove them.

Your comment seems to have gone to your boyfriend’s head and you smirk when you feel his cock jump up, twitching against your center as a soft groan leaves him. You bite your lip when you grab his length, loving how warm it felt in your hand. Carefully, you position him at your dripping center and slot the head against your entrance. 

Both of you moan in unison as you sink down slowly, his thick length filling you completely as your hips finally press against his. 

“Goddammit,” he curses, roughly grabbing your ass as he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to keep himself anchored even though he knows in the back of his mind it’s useless with how tightly you’re gripping him, “You feel so fucking good, pretty girl, fucking love this sweet little cunt.” 

His praises go straight to your core and you clench around him, somehow tighter, making him grunt underneath you. Bracing your hands on his shoulders, you start moving your hips over him, using your thighs to push off of his lap before sinking back down, whining when you feel the head of his cock press perfectly against that delicious little spot inside you.

“You’re so good, Mikey, fuck,” you pant, fighting to keep your eyes open to savor each expression that crosses his flushed face, “Y-You feel so perfect, holy shit, everything about you is perfect.”

He groans deeply, lower lip trembling as he stares up at you in awe, brows furrowed as he takes in every inch of you. Blue eyes trace slowly over your form, lingering on your face before looking over your breasts. He swallows thickly as he pauses to watch them bounce tantalizingly, matching every one of your thrusts against him. Eventually, he looks down and moans softly, watching your slick pussy move over his length. 

“Yeah, princess?” He encourages, making you smile softly as you realize how badly he needs this, how badly he needs to be told how good he is. 

“Y-Yeah, shit,” you whimper, head spinning when he leans up to lick over one of your nipples, gently suckling at the bud as you continue, “You’re the best, Michael, fuck – best boyfriend, you’re so smart and s-so precious and f-funny and – and God!”

You practically squeal when his thumb comes down to rub at your clit, your eyes crossing at the sudden jolt of pleasure that washes over you. 

“I love you, holy fuck,” you huff, thighs burning as you move somehow quicker over him, “I love you, I love – oh, shit – everything about you.” Your voice is hoarse as you breathe through soft pants, practically squirming on top of him as your head spins every time he circles his thumb over you. 

“I love you too, princess,” he hums, pulling you down for a quick, desperate kiss, “You’re so damn good to me.”

“You deserve it,” you say quickly, swallowing as you pant above him, your heart hammering wildly in your chest, “You deserve everything, Michael, you’re so, so good.” 

He growls at that, lips parting as he watches you. He keeps circling a thumb over your clit but fans the rest of his fingers out, holding your hip more securely. You hardly have time to think before you squeak in surprise, gasping as he begins rutting his hips up into you, the tip of his cock hitting your sensitive spot at a dizzying speed. 

“O-Oh, shit!” You huff, eyes wide and wild, “Michael, Mikey, I –” You cut yourself off with a loud cry, too loud given the circumstances, but your brain whites out the second he reaches up and wraps a hand around your throat, not tightly enough to choke you but enough to hold you steady above him. 

“Y’close, love?” He pants, smirking when you quickly nod, “Fucking cum with me, princess, shit, you fucking deserve it.” He hisses through clenched teeth.

All you can do is obey, your fingernails digging harshly into his shoulders as your high finally washes over you. You freeze, tensing up above him as you cry out, uncaring for the party below as your cunt clenches tightly around his length, rhythmically milking him. 

“Shit, shit, fuck,” he grunts beneath you, eyes rolling back as he feels your walls contracting around his cock, drawing his own high from him as well, “Good girl, good girl.” He praises before finally cumming with a snarl. You whimper when you feel him twitch inside you, coating your walls with his thick spend. 

The two of you lay panting for a while, neither of you wanting to get up or break the spell of the safe little bubble you seem to be stuck in as you lazily press kisses against whatever bits of skin you can reach. 

Eventually, the sound of holiday music seems to float up to you from downstairs, along with the sounds of laughter and loud conversation. In the background, you can just barely make out the sound of wrapping paper tearing and taped boxes being pulled open. 

“Sounds like it’s time for gifts,” you muse, tracing shapes on Michael’s chest as he holds you to him, softening length still buried within you, “You wanna join them again?”

He hums softly and shakes his head no with a small smile before tilting his head to look at you, his glasses sitting slightly crooked on his nose as he studies your flushed face. One hand rubs soothingly over your back as he holds you tightly to him, relishing the way your soft skin feels against him.

“Don’t need any gifts from those entitled idiots,” he laughs softly and leans down just enough to press a soft, sweet kiss to your forehead, “I have the most perfect gift right here with me already.”

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