#and i would watch every second raptured

[eli-is-an-idiot]

My parents are watching the coronation concert (for some reason) and the things I'd give to hear Katy Perry break out into California Girls in front of the king

[defmaybe]

Not Shy

1k words

aespa’s Yoo Jimin/Karina x Male Reader

Sequel to J’adore

See also: Sticky, Bahama

“Are you sure no one noticed us coming in here?”

“The five-minute interval shouldn’t alarm anyone, f–fuck.”

You whimper as Jimin drags her lips on where the suit doesn’t cover, so—the hollow of your throat. Your back is leaning on the women’s bathroom door.

“And by the way, ngh, it’s like they’d snitch on a student president, anyway.”

“You’ve got nothing to lose, baby. You’re a fucking treasurer, mmm.”

“I–,” are the last things you can rebuke before the buttons of your shirt are unlocked.

It’s true, aside from a few bills collected onsite, you have absolutely no worries at this second, both at work and in reliability. Background works—billing, accounting—won’t be affected by whether you’re getting fucked by your head of student council, anyway. Treasurer is quite a passive position to do, isn’t it?

“Not so witty anymore, mmh?” Karina bends down; her tongue paints a straight line up your abdomen, and you clench your mouth tightly to not have the other partygoers hear your symphony—her words.

“C–Can’t you just like, ngh, forbid them o–or something?” you ask, legs shaking with her hand groping your bulge, her lips still printing endless marks on your chest. Your composure is stripped off with each clothing removed.

“I wish secrets work like that, dumbass,” she responds, fingers grabbing your crotch–tightly, sending a shock throughout your lithe frame.

“Ngh! F–Fuck~ Alright, I–I get it, Jimin.”

“Be a good boy for me and keep quiet, alright?” She pulls back from your now-reddened body, locking you within her eyes–brown, alluring. It helps that her hair is tied to the back neatly with no stray strands, so that you can see her face—god, that face, the perfectly sculpted nose, the rosy red lips—clearer.

“S-Sure.” You can do nothing but comply.

Now, the logistics of the bathroom aren’t very complex. There are stalls—perfect for a sitting position. There are walls, obviously—pin Jimin against the wall and fuck her brainless. Though, is she a woman like that—the kind that is so eager to become a student president in college, and so pliant at the same time? You’d argue that there exists a woman in this intersection; it’s just not Jimin.

This is where the mirrors and the sinks come in.

“Ready?” The stark eye contact is still there, and she’s still grabbing your aching erection under the pants.

“Ready what?”

“You know, fucking my cunt,” Jimin growls, letting go of your bulge onto the back of her neck, trying to unlatch her thin, black strap holding her night together.

“O–Oh, yeah.” And swiftly, the clanks of your belt, the swoop of your pants, and another swoop of your underwear finally unshackles your raging length for her.

At the same time, her dress comes undone, freeing her voluptuous breasts topped by the hardened brown peaks just for you, and you don’t realize that you’ve been entranced by them for a little too long.

“Hey,” Jimin says, snapping her fingers. “Yeah, I fucking know they’re big. Now fill me up already.”

You gulp, “Y-Yeah,” as you watch her taking off her laced purple panties.

She then hands you the garment. “Here, a souvenir for our underappreciated treasurer.” She rolls her eyes while saying so, not believing the words coming out.

With not much time to lose, you quickly shove her used underwear into your pockets, making sure no tails of it can be seen. And getting ready, Jimin walks towards the marble sink, planting hands on it. Her immaculate features are shown in the mirror. She pulls the charcoal-black dress up, looking at you in the reflection.

“Fuck me.”

It would be the sight of your ass jerking back and forth if someone is to walk in on the debauchery—not your cock, not her tits (helps that your hands are using them as handles—grabbing, squeezing). Every thrust in and out of her, the sight of her contorted expression, the sound of her silent moans are sending you into rapture.

“Y–Your vagina feels so good, J–Jimin, ngh,” you moan. Your cock now glistens with her juice.

“Say ‘cunt’ or ‘pussy’ like a normal person, idiot. I’m not a fucking prudish,” Karina scoffs.

You aren’t in the right state of mind to debate, really. Her wet, tight cavern is so determined to milk every drop of essence out of you to drought. The walls squeezing around your needy length is just too much to handle.

And there it is, your impending release. You can feel it in your loins, far, but it’s there. Karina gives you a stern eye contact along the act—purposeful, ardent. Hell, she’s even smirking at you. She’s always this confident, isn’t she? It has been like this since the first meeting. She’s headstrong, not swaying by a bit, even if she’d be alone with the choice. She’s kind, not swaying by a bit, even if it means getting herself into harm. She’s perfect. She’s fucking perfect.

“F–Fuck, Jimin, I think I’m gonna–”

“Just fucking cum inside me, baby. I wanna feel your cum dripping down my legs. I wanna feel your cum–, ngh,” she cries out, unable to form the last words. She doesn’t seem to care about her forte anymore.

And it’s like you’d care, anyway.

“Cum with me, alright?” Jimin looks back at you, before mumbling under her breath, “Ha, fucking bye-nior prom.”

It’s not much more for you to release your seed inside of her, as you can feel her body shrieking around your cock. It’s a euphoria—eyes fluttering, hips slowing down, panting and such. You can hear your cacophony echo throughout the bathroom. 

As you two come down from the orgasm, Jimin’s breaths are still ragged. “F–Fuck, that’s great, my dear treasurer.”

“Y–You’re t–too, my dear president.” You’re also unable to catch your rhythm.

“Do you think anyone would hear us?”

You ponder for a few heartbeats before replying, “Yeah, definitely… maybe.”

[lovely--lover]

"I am here, My Sweet"

I haven't written fanfiction in almost 3 years! So I hope this is good 😊 Enjoy!

Summary: Aegon needs an heir but his cock was left worthless after Rooks Rest. Aemond will have to do...only for duty. Aegon allows it and stays to support his sweet wife.

warnings: smut, talk of scars, the word cripple, sad Aegon

Aegon rested his head back attempting to keep the lids of his eyes open. The weight of them heavy, as was his gaze, which peered down at his sweet wife. The warm cherub cheek rested on his thigh as she lay in a pleasured haze. Soft moans falling from plush petal lips, a testament to her pleasure as they parted more and more, with each thrust.

That pretty wide open mouth, glistening with spit, was so welcoming and so close to his cock. That was left lying limp against his scarred flesh despite all the desire and yearning. There was nothing more Aegon wanted than to take his wife. Feel the warm, wet, love of her cunt squeezing around him. There would be no position, no place, he would not have her. But Aegon could only imagine that it was him fucking into her providing her pleasure.

Aegon kept his violet eyes on hers wanting to take in every moment of her rapture. If they were to drift up any further they would land on Aemond. Who was currently on his knees fucking into her from behind. One hand grasping a plush hip until the flesh seeped between fingers, the other hand pressing down on her spine, keeping her low and arched. The plump of her ass on display to Aemond as he slid deeper and deeper. The sound of flesh echoing off the walls, in Aegons skull, every time Aemond thrust forward. 

Aegon's eyes betrayed him as they stole a glance at Aemond they widened before finding their way back to her. Insecurity clawed its way through his chest, his heart, it ached deeper than any wound. There was not much to Aegon before the war. Before he was made King, an accomplishment that was placed upon him, not earned.  If he was the second son he would have been cast aside, worthless. Maybe even hidden away by his mother and grandsire never to be seen again, their disgrace.

But he was not. Most days he wishes he was hidden away never to be seen again. By the prying, pitying eyes that watched him struggle and heave himself throughout the halls. All eyes lingering on the scars that danced across half his body. Their crippled King. 

Aemond was scarred but not in the same way. The scars covered his body in the same way stars scattered the sky, shining, telling a story.  A fighter who commands men in battles, wins wars, and always comes out stronger. A true warrior. 

Aegon wanted him gone.

It was on the tip of his tongue “Fuck off Aemond! By order of your King” he would smirk. But he did not. Would not. They needed an heir that he could not provide.

The foul whispers of the keep had made their way to her precious ears. Aegon had wanted their tongues when he was met with his tear-stained wife, her dress, cheeks, and lashes all held the evidence of her sadness. Her voice had spoken to him so tenderly “ Aegon…it is my duty everyone says so...I know so” a weak smile presented on your lips “I want to give you a child, please, and not just for duty.” How could Aegon say no?

The day of their wedding had the same day as his coronation. Aegon could not become King without a Queen. So he was wed to her before they placed the crown atop his head. The following days meant to be spent together as newlyweds was stripped away. The war was pending and the following weeks were hectic, preparing for war, protecting the realm, fighting for a crown Aegon did not want. There was no oppurtunity  to put a sweet babe in his wife. And before given the chance Aegon had flown to battle as a drunkard. Gotten burned by Dragon-fire, destroying his cock, stealing away his ultimate pleasure. Left now as a voyeur to his own wife and brother.

When he returned near death it was her who stayed by his side day and night. Proving her unconditional love and devotion to him. Sweet wife, how he grew to adore you. The milk of the poppy daze could not keep him from finding her. Always a bright silhouette on the settee next to the bed, embroidering another intricate work for him to adorn. A gentle and warm smile always welcomed her face as their eyes met. “My love! You are awake..I am so happy.” 

“Aegon?” his thoughts were broken by the call of a breathless and sweet voice. He blinked away the memory and imminent tears. As his sight came back into focus, he was met with furrowed brows and doe eyes peering at him, examining him,  “Are you here my love?” The squeeze of your fingers on his good thigh caused a jolt of heat to go to his cock which remained soft.

His hand found the soft warmth of her cheek,  “I am here my sweet.” Both faces adorned with sweet smiles as she nuzzled into his palm. Eyes never leaving his as she allowed her lips to meet the skin. A tender moment between lovers. 

“As am I”  Aemond spoke for the first time that night. Ruining the precious moment while throwing a smirk towards Aegon “I hope you did not forget My Queen” Fingers delved deeper into your hip bordering on painful “The duty we must accomplish for Our King. ” 

The furrow of her brows asked a silent permission from Aegon, to respond. A slight nod was all she needed. He hoped the side of his thumb was comforting as her shaking voice spoke out “I have not forgotten my duty, good brother, I promise.”

Long white strands of hair fell over her face as Aemond caged in her body with his. The weight was crushing, breath hot against her ear “Good my Queen, I am close and I will breed you well…I promise” His thrust grew rabid the sound of flesh against flesh echoing off the walls. Aemond leered up at Aegon as he held her hips against his and let out a grunt. The duty was done.

A warmth filled her deep within, settling in her belly as tears started to form, it was over. There is nothing she wants more than for Aegon to be the one placing his seed in her womb. Wanting to fulfill her duty as his wife and Queen she took a breath and wiped away the stray tears. Pressing her face further into his thigh wanting to feel him against her and hide the shame.

“You are dismissed, brother.” A heavy breath left Aegon as he forced out the words “Thank you for your service to the Crown.”

Aemond’s lone eye remained focused on your nude body licking the smirk of his lips. “Of course, My King, It was a pleasure.” 

Aegon refused to look anywhere besides Aemond until he left the room. There was a tension hanging over the room and it was only broken when the door slammed shut. The sign that they were officially alone and Aemond was gone. 

“Wife…come to me.” Aegon strained to open his arms wide making room for her. A groan of pain escaped as she climbed into his arms putting pressure on his healing wounds. He would manage if it allowed her to be close. “I hope it takes…I do not wish to bed your brother again”

“You did not enjoy bedding Aemond the Fierce?....The sounds you made say otherwise dear wife.” He forced himself to smirk, a way of communicating, I am not upset although he was a little hurt. Her brows furrowed and nose scrunced the look eliciting a genuine laugh from him as he pulled her closer. 

 “I wish it was you ” spoken so gently and quietly “I only want you”

 “As do I but unfortunately my cock no longer works,” there was an empty humor to the words, he did not want to upset her. 

“It would still be better than Aemonds, I’d bet on it” 

Aegon could barely get out a laugh before it was replaced with a gasp. The soft feel of her fingers were on his cock stroking along the rough flesh. The pleasure was dull blocked by the thick layer of scar tissue. A ghost of a touch was all he felt. What he would give to feel it fully. “How does it feel?”

There was a brief pause as Aegon thought over all the different things he could say “Like nothing..”

The soft-touch was gone in an instant. Her hand tucked against her bare chest as if just burned. “I’m sorry I -”

“Do not be” Aegon’s hands came to rest on either side of her face using the pad of his thumb to stroke gently against her warm cheeks. There was a moment of silence as they gazed into each other's eyes waiting for the other to make a move. 

“My sweet wife, you love me, I know this. That is something…something I have never had but have always wanted. I love you” his hands dropped from her cheeks to rest on her belly “and I will love our child. As long as you continue to love me, do not feel sorry, this is all I need.” Aegons lips were soft and salty as his tears fell between their shared lips.

Please let me know your thoughts and comments ❤️ It is much appreciated!!

[mystra-midnight]

Holy Roar

summary: eddie watched your face—the way your mouth twisted and tears dripped from the corners of your eyes because of the over stimulation. he listened to your wild breaths and felt how your body begged for mercy while your soul screamed for more, more, more.

tags: 18+ only. unprotected sex; p in v. praise kink. pet names; good girl, sweet girl, baby. overstimulation. mentions of squirting if you squint. teeth-rotting fluff. eddie being a simp for his girl. soft!eddie but also hints of mean/dom!eddie.

w/c: 2.3k

a/n: eddie might not be religious but he's pretty sure heaven is between your thighs. requested by anon, thank you so much. <3 i needed a reason to be sappy and sweet today after all the drama going on. also, for the record. this was meant to be a drabble but evidently i have no self control.

Eddie Munson wasn't religious, but he did believe in heaven.

He'd swear up and down that he'd seen heaven, and no one had been able to convince him otherwise. The truth was, when he was buried in the tight warmth of your pussy with your arms wrapped around him, he could hear the sound of angels singing. It was a beautiful melody, a crescendo that rang in his ears and brought him to tears.

When he was with you, wrapped in the velvet embrace of your walls, his face hidden against the slope of your neck, the world would melt away. Nothing else mattered in those moments. He wasn’t alone, and he wasn’t a freak; he was just Eddie, and you were just you, and when he moved in you, the holy dark moved too.

And when you came, trembling and twitching beneath him, with pretty moans and whimpers pouring from your kiss-bitten lips, it was like he was born again. When he watched your features twist with rapture, he saw the world through brand new eyes—eyes that were filled with the vision of only you, an angel come to life beneath him, your holy light shining so brightly that he wasn’t sure you were real.

He often had to remind himself that you were.

Sometimes Eddie had to pinch himself just to convince himself that you weren't a beautiful, haunting illusion about to slip through his fingers. It was why he touched you with greedy hands at every opportunity. He touched you because he could, gripping the fat of your thighs, the curve of your hips, the pudge of your stomach, your tits, your cheeks, and your hands.

He was never cruel. Firm, yes; mocking, sometimes, but he could never hurt you. Eddie would hold you with strong hands that never stilled unless he was pounding into you, forcing unholy moans from your pretty mouth.

And unless he was kissing you, his tongue in your mouth, twirling and dancing with yours, he couldn’t stay silent. Eddie loved to whisper sweet nothings in between searing kisses. He would growl in your ear while carving his way to your guts. He would babble mindlessly as he chased his orgasm, fucking you through one, then a second, and then a third.

Some nights he was wild and untamed, whereas others he was kind and gentle.

No matter what, it was always a religious experience.

And tonight was no different.

Eddie had you on your back with your hands pinned above your head; he was holding both of your wrists in one of his larger hands. Your legs were around his waist, and the heels of your feet were pressing into his backside to draw him deeper as he rolled his hips and found that sweet spot that made you sing. Tears ebbed at your lash line, and he chased each one that fell with an eager tongue.

It was a cool evening in Hawkins, Indiana. Sometime past ten, a light rain had settled over the town. Eddie could hear the pitter-patter of droplets as they hit the roof of the caravan, the slide as they cascaded down the awnings, and the splatter as they hit the ground. The window was open, and a cool breeze was playing with the curtains, leaving his sweat-slicked skin goosepimpled.

“You’re so fucking pretty like this,” he murmured. His voice was rough and heavy with lust. “Can’t believe you’re mine,” he continued, mumbling the words against the slope of your neck, where he scrapped his teeth over your racing pulse. You arched beneath him when he dragged a ringed hand down your body, cruising from your throat to your chest, where he paused to brush a thumb over your peddled nipple before tugging on it a little meanly.

He listened to the way your breath hitched and the needy moan that tumbled past your lips when he moved his hand lower to the apex of your thighs. Eddie Munson was a simple man who loved you in this state—cock-drunk and floating in the clouds.

He loved to watch you come undone for him. He loved the way your back would arch, the way your muscles would tighten and flex, how you pulled him in and pushed him away when the pleasure mounted, and the way you couldn’t seem to get enough air while riding each orgasm. He couldn’t get enough of you; he was addicted to you.

“Bet you’re sensitive, baby.” Eddie said, gliding his pointer and ring finger on either side of your clit, which was still buzzing from the last orgasm he’d pulled from the depths of your soul. He felt you twitch beneath him, heard the sharp intake of breath, and heard the muffled whine that escaped your pretty mouth. “But look at you—still s’fucking wet. You’ve soaked the sheets, girl. But you're gonna cum again, aren’t you? Good, I need to hear those pretty sounds.”

He posed it as a question, but he wasn’t asking. Eddie took advantage of your delirious state, licking a long, wet strip up the column of your throat and moaned deeply as he savoured the sweat-slicked taste of your skin. Eddie didn't care that you were sweaty, that you were dishevelled, or that you were making a mess of his sheets. He cared that you were here and that you were beneath him.

He watched your face as he rolled his hips, his cock piercing through your velvet walls and his balls slapping against your ass as he drove deeper. Your lips parted in a perfect 'o', and you squirmed, straining to close your legs only to find his slim waist holding them open as a familiar heat sparked to life between your hips.

“I can’t.”

He said the words with you, as he already knew that you would say them. Eddie Munson was a menace that ruled your life, and you were a marionette on a string, so sweet and eager to please him. He could play you like a fiddle. He knew what words built you up and which ones sent you tumbling down again. As though to prove this, he circled his fingers around your clit, slick with arousal, left, then right, then spread them again, trapping your clit between his fingers with just a hint of pressure.

You keened loudly, throwing your head back and exposing your throat—an invitation that he quickly accepted. Eddie smeared hot, wet kisses along your skin, listening to the whimpers and whines that spilt from your lips as he rubbed your nub, enjoying the way you tugged at your wrists and writhed beneath him. “S’too much, Eddie. Eddie, please, please.”

You sounded so pretty when you begged; your voice was breathless and ethereal as you begged for something you couldn't decide on. Mercy or more—you didn't know.

But he did.

"You can," he replied. Eddie buried his face against your neck, his hot breath balmy against your skin, as he nuzzled his nose below the curve of your jaw before sucking a dark mark into your skin. "Just one more, I promise, baby, then I'll let you rest." It was the devil's lie, one that came easily from his tongue.

Eddie Munson was an addict, and you were his drug of choice. In truth, he knew that he would be going to hell, so he was going to enjoy heaven while he could. He kissed you without warning. Hard, slowly, thoroughly, just because he could. It made you moan and made your toes curl.

“Need you to cum again—fuck—just one more, that’s all I want."

“Mhmm, okay,” you whimpered, high-pitched and breathless, as he moved his fingers in tight circles around your nub, switching direction once, then twice. And then he moved. Eddie sat back on his haunches, threw your legs over his shoulders, and pulled you closer so that he could drive deeper, until you felt him in your lungs.

Your obedience and willingness made him smile. Eddie licked your calf, his teeth scraping teasingly at your ankle. Your pussy clenched hotly around his aching length. "You're such a good girl, aren’t you? S’fucking pretty, s’fucking sweet. Fuck, I love you,” he rambled, lost in the moment. The taste of you swimming in his mouth and the sight of you flooding his eyes were too much for him to bear.

You were beautiful; an angel trapped it in a rhapsody of pleasure—all his. Eddie pulled out slowly, your velvet heat clutching at his cock. He watched with wide and wondrous eyes as your hole clenched and winked at him, but it was the combination of pre-cum and slick dripping from you—the way it slid down the crack of your ass and joined the mess you'd made of the sheets—that broke his resolve.

The groan that clawed up the back of his throat was something feral and all-consuming, calling to something buried inside of you. Your answering whine was desperate. Eddie grabbed your jaw, his thumb dragging over your lower lip, so that he could watch the blissed expression in your eyes as he filled you again, hard and to the brim. "Look at you, girl, so cum-drunk that you're leaking on my cock. My pretty, perfect girl."

Time began to slow down. Heat slithered like a snake through your veins, slow to start as it set your body aflame, and then faster, striking with venom and fangs until your eyes rolled so far back that Eddie was sure you'd see your own brain. You were in a trance, and it was no one but Eddie’s fault.

You couldn’t answer him, even if you had wanted to. Each time he fucked into you, his cock spearing through your walls and reaching the depths of your being, the air was forced from your lungs, leaving you breathless and floating higher in the sky. He left a trail of wet kisses along your ankle, lapping at each bite with an eager tongue while he found your mound with the opposite hand, thumb swiping left and right, then, round and round, your clit.

The piston of his hips didn’t slow when you pushed against his abdomen, nails scratching the surface of his skin as though you wanted to burrow beneath it and live there. Eddie watched your face—the way your mouth twisted and tears dripped from the corners of your eyes because of the over stimulation. He listened to your wild breaths and felt how your body begged for mercy while your soul screamed for more, more, more.

“Too much, Eddie,” you gasped, all breathless and sweet. Eddie smiled down at you, a beautiful lopsided grin that had the snake in your veins pulling tighter. It was so tight now that you thought you might die—that your bones would break and your heart would give. But the look in your eyes—that sly come-hither stare—told him you needed that release almost as much as you needed to breathe.

"You're going to be a good girl and cum for me, yeah? You're squeezing my dick so tight, baby, you're going to fucking break it.” Eddie chortled. Sweat beaded on his brow, dripped from his nose, and landed on your chest as he bent to brush his mouth against yours. Your legs fell from his shoulders, knees coming to rest in the crook's of his arms as he shadowed over you like a perfect machiavellian devil.

His lips smashed against yours in a kiss made entirely of tongue, teeth, and saliva. It was messy, sloppy, and desperate, leaving a string of saliva connecting your lips when you finally parted. Eddie was lost, chasing his own release that was hurtling towards him like a semi with its brakes cut.

And then it happened, all at once and without warning.

One moment you grabbed at him, clawing at his back and pulling on his hair, and then you were breathless, your limbs locked and your head thrown back. It was like the sky split open and a bolt of lightning speared through you, connecting with that sweet spot Eddie was abusing, only to arch throughout your body. You came screaming his name, and it was the sound of heaven, and he rejoiced.

"You're so good to me, sweet girl," Eddie said. His lips left a trail of blistering kisses from your chin, down your jaw, and to your neck, where he hid his face against your sweat-slicked skin. His breath was wild and balmy as he panted against your skin. His muscles twisted and knotted as the force of his impending orgasm grew. "I'm going—fuck—I'm going to marry you. I'm going to put a ring on your finger and buy you a fucking house."

And he meant it. If there was one thing on God's green earth that Eddie Munson was completely and irrevocably certain about, it was you. He was going to make you his wife. He was going to give you his name. He was going to give you his kids.

He felt you grab him again, your nails reclaiming their position on his shoulders as the world started to fade into background ambience. A haze overcame his vision, glowing orange from the fire raging within him. And then the tension in his body broke, ricocheting through him with the force of a hurricane.

Eddie speared through your walls one last time before settling deep within you, so deep that you could feel him pressing against the back of your throat. His weight above you was like a weighted blanket that is smothering but comfortable. It kept you grounded while you ride the coattails of your orgasm. Eddie came with a guttural groan, his abdominal muscles flexing as he filled you with thick ropes of his seed.

Seconds slid into minutes before he withdrew and collapsed to the bed at your side. The sheets were a mess at the foot of the bed, and the sound of the rain was louder now. The room smelled like sweat, sex, and fresh rain. You were both quiet as you floated through the clouds, content to lay side-by-side and let the silence bloom. There was nothing either of you had to say—the moment was already perfect because, while Eddie Munson wasn't religious, he did believe in heaven.

And with you, he felt born again.

tags: @hideoutside

[ozzgin]

This is something I decided to do on a whim, but I'm very fond of the idea! The Ten Commandments in reverse, featuring an obsessive Angel and the ways in which it's breaking said laws. Part 1. content: gender neutral reader, religious themes, blasphemy, NSFW, horror

They are embedded within the very fabric of creation, holding together the molecules, the neurons, the existence itself: the Ten Commandments. They have been bestowed upon humans for guidance, yet angels are different. Perfect machineries erected from spoken word - they do not have the choice of receiving these laws. It is their fundament, their core.

Thus, one would be inclined to think that there is no such concept as a disobedient Angel. Like the one sent to guard over you. The one who's been watching you from the very beginning, who loves you so dearly. It would do anything to protect you. Perhaps even go against its Father's word, against its purpose.

10. Thou shalt not covet

It stalks your movements with a pained grimace. The way you smile at your friends, the way you lean against your partner. Why, oh why, must you torment it like this? It yearns to be the one holding you instead. To be the one graced with your joyful laughter, to be the one blessed by your soft, loving voice. There is nothing fruitful to its distant benevolence.

It cannot remain hidden any longer.

9. Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour

"No one loves you as I do", it wails, wicked tears streaming down its face. The holy water burns the skin, leaving trails of raw flesh behind. "They're vile, these humans, their hearts impure. What need have you for deceit and barren promises?"

"I am the only one you can trust", the Angel declares, gazing at you. Its face resembles a broken marble statue, its soft features caressed by scars and wounds. Only you can mend its anguished heart, only you can soothe its mechanical soul.

8. Thou shalt not steal

One by one, your friends abandon you. Or maybe it's you who's grown distant. Their familiar cheer is now tainted by cold monotony. You've no need for shallow affections. You have your partner, and your guardian Angel.

Almost, the sacred creature grins. Its chest throbs with selfish delight, and the envy succumbs once more. Soon you will belong to no one else. It never felt such exaltation, such ardent, burning warmth: a desire fulfilled.

7. Thou shalt not commit adultery

Its blackened fingers drag themselves across your naked body, groping every curve and penetrating every hole. The hunger becomes unbearable. "It will be our secret", it whispers lowly, though the pledge is quickly drowned by your perverted whines.

It has claimed you; it has defiled you. The serpent-like tongue flicks and slurps in a maddening lust. And yet, it's not enough.

6. Thou shalt not murder

It stands above the drained cadaver, peace finally settling in its soul.

"It is the two of us now", it muses, overwhelmed by rapture. "Adam and Eve, the beginning and the end."

Its lips quiver upon speaking such blasphemy. It is a lie, it is a nonsense. It is a divine apparatus meant to serve God's will, not a human to love, and feed, and copulate.

T̷̹̹̭͖͍̗̘̄͒͗̄̑͋͜͝͠ḩ̸̛̮̖͈̹̱͙̬̰̫̾͆́̆́̃̓̀͌͐̽͜͜͝͝ͅè̸͕͉͓̻̇͐̇͌͝ ̵͍̙̀̊̈̅͗͛̊͝s̶̯̬͚̰͔͙̞͖̦̭̲̩͍̾́̀̎́̆̌̋͘̚̕̚͠͠y̸̝͚̱̪͂̄̍̆̂̽̽͗͑͆͘͜͠͠͝s̷̖͚̮̙̩̖͙̥̓t̸̬͎̟̥͓̐̃̄̅͛̈́̄̀̇ͅe̷͔̻̤̪͋̈́̿̐̑̒͜͝͝m̵̡̼̖̥̠̠͋͆́̊̑̓͌͒̽̆͠ ̶̨͈̺̯̹͉̬̭͔̜͕͎̔̈̽͜͝͝i̸̬͕̊̿̌͛̾͠͠s̷̡͙̯̫̪̝͎̖̬͗͂̂̐͒̇̊̆͋̍̉̈́̈́͘͜ ̴̛͇̘͇̱̘̯̱̜̑̌̉̓͊̋̀͘͝c̵̹̳̓̍͗̔́͌̐̒̀̍͒͌ö̷̪̣̫̘̝̋́̃̍̀̍̆̎͠r̴̢̦̰͎̜̖̗̼̿͌̾̈́̂̊͛͐̾ͅŗ̶̭̥͕̝̀̊ù̶̘̻͔̻̦̠͉̳͋͛̀͆̏͠ͅͅp̷̢͙͈̗̙͎̪̼̪͎̈́̌̀̄͒̌̄͂̀͘̕̕͝͠ṭ̵̡̽͗̓̈́̀̍́̊̒͌̃́̕.̴̨̬̝̘̜̦̭̪̩̹̫̎͆̃̌̓ ̴̧͕̪̄́̿̉̑

[Navigation] | [Ozztober Masterlist] | [Second Half]

[fastandcarlos]

Hometown Champ : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: winning silverstone was all that lando had ever dreamed of, was this the year that it finally came true?

“And as we head into the penultimate lap of the race it’s Lando Norris and Charles LeClerc battling for the head!” Crofty commentates as the volume of the crowd increases once again with Lando right at the front. 

Your heart is racing as you stand in the garage, unable to tear your eyes away from the screen. The tension is unlike anything that you’ve experienced before in the garage with everyone watching on nervously, cheering and willing Lando to cross the line in top spot. 

There was less than a second between them both, and although Lando had tried multiple times to overtake, Charles managed to defend every single time. You didn’t know how he did it, but if there was one person stubborn enough to keep trying to succeed, it was definitely Lando. 

“He’s going to do it,” Adam smiled, matching your worry as he stood right by your side. 

You briefly glance at him, nodding your head in response as you tried to match Adam’s enthusiasm. Better than anyone, Adam knew how resilient Lando was, confident that he wouldn’t give the race up until the last part of his car crossed the line. He tried his best to remain calm, but on the inside, he was just as nervous as you were right now. 

The last lap arrived and you took another step towards the screen to get a better look at what was going on. “Come on Lan,” you whispered to yourself, pressing your hands together to try and distract yourself. 

As the two cars entered yet another straight, you knew it was a case of now or never for Lando, taking a deep breath in as you knew watching his on board that he had everything mapped out in his head. 

It was everything that he had dreamt of since he stepped into a Formula 1 car, this was Lando’s chance and he wasn’t going to blow it. He thought of you, his dad, and everyone else in the garage with you, all those people that had made sacrifices just for him. 

You couldn’t believe how close he was, even though he’d hoped about it earlier in the day, you never imagined that the dream might actually come true. 

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

“Every British driver dreams of winning at Silverstone,” Lando smiled as the two of you looked out onto the track from the paddock. “I never thought that chance would arrive, but this year I’ve just got such a good feeling babe, I really feel like this could be my year,” he excitably told you. 

“If anyone has the skill to win this race, it’s you,” you encouraged, taking a hold of your hand. “Just drive the race I know you can and I’m confident you’re going to smash it.” 

Lando nodded, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “As long as I’ve got my bigger fan cheering me on today then I’m sure that top spot on the podium will be mine.” 

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You were snapped out of your daydream by a shout from beside you. “Come on Lando!” Adam yelled. 

It felt like a moment of disbelief as you watched Lando swerve to the left, with DRS he flew past Charles and slotted in in front of him, leaving Charles unable to attack. 

The volume increased in the garage once again, with a few people reminding everyone to stay calm until Lando crossed the line. The whole room was on tenterhooks with increasing confidence that finally Lando’s time had come. You felt an arm drape around your shoulders as Adam pulled you into him, the smile on his face bigger than you had ever seen it before. His glance gave you the confidence that you needed, Lando had done it, you were sure of it now. 

The last few corners went by in the blink of an eye as you soon watched Lando go past the checkered flag, feeling your legs buckle underneath you, with Adam there to hold on and keep you upright. 

You couldn’t quite believe it, watching as Lando started to his cool down lap to rapturous applause, waving out to the sea of orange that encouraged him around every single corner. 

Whilst everyone else rushed out to welcome Lando back in, you hung back in the paddock, deciding to reunite with Lando in a more private setting. Adam remained by your side, unable to hide the smile that was on his face. 

“I can’t believe it,” you chuckled once the two of you were finally alone. “I’ve never seen him drive like that before.” 

Adam proudly smiled back at you, “he’s got so much more confidence in himself this year. If I’m honest, I think that’s all thanks to you.” 

Your eyes glanced back at the screen as Lando pulled up behind the number one. He climbed out of the car, jumping onto the front and raised both of his arms in the air. His helmet hid his smile, but you knew better than anyone that behind the visor was a wide smile, an overwhelmed figure who couldn’t quite believe what he had just managed to achieve. 

Lando was congratulated by an army of people as he slowly made his way around the team and into the paddock. Everyone wanted to tell him how proud they were to see him win his home race, but as thankful as Lando was, there was only really one person who he wanted to celebrate with. 

You stood to one side as Lando finally appeared before you, thanking the last couple of people. His eyes darted as soon as he entered, chuckling loudly as they landed on the one thing he wanted. 

He couldn’t get to you quick enough, jumping over all the equipment that had been left out to get to you. 

As soon as you were before him his arms wrapped around your waist, burying his head into the crook of his neck. You could hear, and feel, his sighs of relief, struggling to believe what had just happened for him. You held on tightly to Lando, unable to hide your smile, despite the smell of sweat that lingered from Lando. 

You’d seen firsthand the blood, sweat and tears that Lando had put into his career, and although Miami was nice, winning his home race was so much sweeter. It was everything that Lando had ever wanted to achieve, and with you right there to support him, the moment couldn’t get any better for him. 

“I did it,” Lando whispered into your ear after a few moments, pressing a kiss against your cheek. You could hear the excitement in his voice, adrenaline leaving him bouncing on his feet. “I just won at Silverstone.” 

You pulled back from Lando, meeting his eyes, making sure that he was definitely listening. “I’m so proud of you, so so proud Lan.” 

It was all that he wanted to hear, all the hard work and sacrifices had paid off to know that you were proud of him, it was the one thing he wanted more than anything else. 

“Thank you for everything,” Lando smiled after a few moments, “I don’t think I’d have ever have had the belief to really do this if it wasn’t for you always being there by my side.” 

Your head shook as Lando pressed a kiss against your lips. “This is all on you, your amazing drive and incredible talent, I didn’t do anything,” you laughed, kissing Lando back, brushing your hands through the messy curls that hung in front of his forehead. 

As you went to pull away, Lando pulled you back for more. His kiss was full of appreciation for you, wanting to let you know just how thankful he was for all of your support. 

When you eventually pulled away, Lando kept you as close to him as he could, his grip tight so you couldn’t try and get away. 

“You’re the best,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. “I don’t quite know what I did to ever get you in my life, but I’m so thankful that you’re here. I love you so much.” 

Your smile was wide, cupping against Lando’s cheek. “I love you,” you whispered, pecking against the tip of his nose. “Come on, there’s a podium and thousands of fans waiting for you, it’s not every day you can call yourself the champion of your home race.” 

“British Grand Prix champ, I don’t think that’ll ever sink in.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[widow-tarot]

MINI PAC READING: What Would They Tell You If They Could? (Romance)

GROUPS: 1 - 2 - 3 4 - 5 - 6

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Instruction: Think about your person while choosing a group. Do not use more than 1 group for one person. Just to remind you, this is only for entertainment purposes.

If you don't feel drawn to any group, then this reading is not for you.

GROUP 1

Cards: Ace of Wands, Knight of Wands rx, Wheel of Fortune rx, I Like You, Girl Talk rx, Pond, Archangel Metatron.

I like you. I know it's straightforward, but I cannot say it in any other way that's more meaningful or more direct. It might not sound meaningful but it is to me (I hope it is to you too). I feel there is a spiritual connection between us and it seems no matter what, we keep coming back to each other. Our connection is like a pond; can be insignificant to others but to us, it holds so much life and secrets but it can easily be destroyed if not cultivated. We are so hot and cold; we like each other, then we hate each other over something trivial (we both don't know what exactly annoyed us). I want to move towards you but things are holding me back. There's so much I want to do and say but I'm standing still. I know we will truly come together someday. No one knows about it because I don't share those feelings with friends. It seems too private and sacred.

SONGS:

Eric by Mitski ("Take off my clothes and watch me move; You can come closer, I'll let you hurt me; But how long, how long can we play this way?; I'm tired, I'm tired of not loving you"

Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey ("Ours a love I held tightly; Feeling the rapture grow; Like a flame burning brightly; But when she left; Gone was the glow")

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby by Cigarettes After Sex ("Whispered something in your ear; It was a perverted thing to say; But I said it anyway; Made you smile and look away; Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby; As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine")

GROUP 2

Cards: 9 of Pentacles, 2 of Pentacles, 7 of Cups, Noose rx, Mushrooms, The Snake, Hammer rx, Seraphim Seraphisa rx.

You will forever be in my heart and mind, but we can never be together in the way we want. There are way too many blockages and I do think we are not fit to be in a relationship. I am in a committed relationship (or you are) and I do not wish to leave her for I love her. Maybe I am a coward, but I am a practical and cautious one. I will not take reckless actions just to wake up one day and regret it. I think what we have is a fantasy, pleasant make-believe, daydreaming. However, I don't want you gone because you're an important person to me. I wish you happiness but I can't follow you.

SONGS:

Lonesome Love by Mitski ("I call you, to see you again; So I can win, and this can finally end")

Blue Banisters by Lana Del Rey ("She said, "You can't be a muse and be happy, too; You can't blacken the pages with Russian poetry and be happy"; And that scared me; 'Cause I met a man who said he'd come back every May;Just to help me if I'd paint; Now when weather turns to May; All my sisters come to paint")

Flash by Cigarettes After Sex ("I'm a flash; You were blinded by the love I had; I'm a flash; The light could only get in through the cracks")

GROUP 3

Cards: The Hierophant rx, 8 of Wands, The Devil, 10 of Swords rx, Wildflowers, Mirror, Keys on a Ring, Archangel Raphael.

You are the temptation, the chaos in my life, the wildflowers that can still be growing but can also be already taken by someone else while I wasn't looking. You're untouchable, unable to be caught, translucent. One minute you're here only to leave seconds later just to come back and stay for a long time. You're unpredictable, a sin worth sinning for. But I hate to be alone and you make me sad. I love to see you but I hate myself when you leave. I don't know if you have any feelings for me; is it something serious or is it just casual and convenient? I can't do this anymore, I'm trapped and I feel miserable. I wish I could tell you to stay away, to abandon me, to never come back. It would be easier for me to move on then but I am a fool for you. I wish I was strong enough to talk things through but I'd rather have some of you than none of you. Then again, being with you hurts me so what should I do?

SONGS:

Should've Been Me by Mitski ("Relive all the ways you still want me; I haven't given you what you need; You wanted me but couldn't reach me; I'm sorry it should've been me"

Blue Jeans by Lana Del Rey ("I will love you till the end of time; I would wait a million years; Promise you'll remember that you're mine; Baby, can you see through the tears?; You went out every night; And, baby, that's alright; But when you walked out that door; A piece of me died")

Ambien Slide by Cigarettes After Sex ("Take my love with some pretend; You said you couldn't help it; Had everything that you wanted; When my love was something yours; But now you're feeling helpless")

GROUP 4

Cards: Death, Page of Pentacles rx, The Chariot rx, Archangel Sammael, Eileen Chang rx, Boat rx, Engagement Ring rx.

I don't want to try to fix this thing between us anymore, it's a fool's errand. We tried and it didn't work, it's time to move on to something else because we are just wasting our time and I'm exhausted. Let me go. Let me leave, peacefully. I don't want to fight but I'm frustrated. I think we tried to escape the inevitable but at the end of the road, we cannot pretend any longer. Relieve me of this burden and don't resent me.

SONGS:

Working For The Knife by Mitski ("I always thought the choice was mine; And I was right, but I just chose wrong")

Bel Air by Lana Del Rey ("Gargoyles standing at the front of your gate; Trying to tell me to wait; But I can't wait to see you; So I run, like I'm mad, to heaven's door; I don't wanna be bad; I won't cheat you no more")

Tejano Blue by Cigarettes After Sex ("We wanted to fuck with real love; Wanted it sweet, so pure and warm; And when you say you want it all, I know you want it all; Baby, take it all from me; I always will make it feel like you were the last one; So get in the waves like it was the first time")

GROUP 5

Cards: The Star rx, 7 of Pentacles, 10 of Swords rx, Glove rx, The Phoenix, Paradise rx, Archangel Haniel.

I wish we could start anew, without any bitter history between us that holds us back and clouds our judgment. We cannot fully be together while all these thoughts are troubling us, making us suspicious of each other and insecure. I know we both lost hope for this connection, yet we are still going and proceeding with it in any way we can. We don't want this to be over but we need to find a solution. I want you in my life and I'm willing to put work into it. Are you? Someone needs to make the first step though and it's the most difficult thing to do. We cannot stay still for much longer though. We communicate telepathically but we also have to communicate in real life.

SONGS:

First Love/Late Spring by Mitski ("Please hurry leave me; I can't breathe; Please don't say you love me; One word from you and I would; Jump off of this ledge I'm on; Tell me "don't" so I can crawl back in")

Video Games by Lana Del Rey ("It's you, it's you, it's all for you; Everything I do; I tell you all the time; Heaven is a place on earth with you; Tell me all the things you wanna do; It's better than I ever even knew; They say that the world was built for two; Only worth living if somebody is loving you")

Goodbye Mr Blue by Father John Misty (" But maybe if he'd gone sooner; Could've brought us back together last June; When the last time was our last time; If only then I knew; The last time was our last time; Would've told you that the last time comes too soon")

GROUP 6

Cards: Page of Swords rx, 9 of Cups rx, 4 of Swords, Sappho, Archangel Chamuel, Cupid's Arrow rx, Separation rx.

Do you love me? You say you do why does your love cause so much pain? Why am I in agony instead of being elated and happy? Is this how you show your love? I feel neglected and manipulated. I feel ignored and mocked. Am I your partner or your pet? Do you even care what I want? Do you care what I have to say? You treat me as a child as if I cannot think or decide for myself. Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think so lowly of me? When you're not here, I don't miss you and my mind is at ease. I lost all hope for anything to change. It hurts even more because I love you, but your love is weird and dysfunctional. I feel trapped. I even stopped speaking my mind because it was met with ridicule and anger.

SONGS:

Wife by Mitski ("For if I am not yours, what am I?; I daydream I'd give one a name of my own; For even I am on loan; For even mine is unknown; So let me go towards the morning star; With hope it won't disappear;)

Carmen by Lana Del Rey ("Baby's all dressed up, with nowhere to go; That's the little story of the girl you know; Relyin' on the kindness of strangers; Darlin', darlin', doesn't have a problem; Lyin' to herself, 'cause her liquor's top shelf; It's alarmin', honestly, how charmin' she can be; Foolin' everyone, tellin' 'em she's havin' fun")

Hot by Cigarettes After Sex ("Is it all in my head? 'Cause I keep getting scared; That I'll always be lost forever; But I don't give a shit if I'm too delicate; When you hold me, it's always better")

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: language

Chapter Word Count: 2288

—-MDNI—-

A/N: AHHHHHHHHH IM SOOOOOOOO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ITS NOT EVEN A SPICEY CHAPTER… I hope it’s ok! Let me know of any errors as I’m the only proof reader .

——————————————————————

Please read the below:

Prologue Chapter 1

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7

Chapter 8pt1

Chapter 8pt2

Chapter 9

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 10

I stood in the kitchen over the stove, the smell of bacon tickling my nose as it sizzled in the pan. Watching the fat and grease splutter, my mind replayed the rapturous events of last night with every tantalising memory bringing heat to my skin and fluttering to my pulse. The simple thought of Deans hands on me set my whole body aflame. Not to mention that I woke up in his room, in his arms, listening to his soft breathing as he slept peacefully - not a single crease between his brows as he slumbered unburdened. I had crept out, not wanting to torment myself by staying by his side until he awoke.

I had eaten breakfast alone; neither of the boys rising early enough for us to eat together, so I tucked in whilst the food was still hot. I was a mixture of grateful and ungrateful in this instance. Grateful, because I could be left alone with my sinful thoughts - and ungrateful, because I didn’t want to be left alone with my sinful thoughts. They were driving me insane, spinning around and around inside my head. I desperately needed to remind myself that Dean Winchester was an insufferable jackass who seemed to be making it his life’s mission to get under my skin. And I couldn’t let him.

Oh Bobby, if you could see me now, you’d be so disappointed in my life choices…

I had just tidied the kitchen and placed the food in the fridge when I heard the front door open and close and I made my way to the main room - Charlie appearing at the top of the stairs wielding half a dozen shopping bags.

“Good morning bitches!” She beamed as she began making her way down, right as Sam and Dean strode in, sleep weighing on their features. I opened my mouth to respond but my gaze snagged on Dean, who was already looking at me and my words evaporated in my mouth. We stared at each other, both of us with a sort of dumbfounded look about our faces. Charlie stepped next to me, looking between us.

“I said… good morning bitches! No? Anyone?”

Without saying a word I grabbed her hand through the countless loops of shopping bag handles and dragged her through the bunker until we reached my room. I pushed her through the door and slammed it behind us, leaving the frenzy in the hallway as we looked at each other in silence. I huffed out a sigh, running my hands through my hair before cupping my cheeks. She dropped the bags and sat on the edge of my bed.

“What’s going on with you? Are you ok? You see-”

“I fucked Dean.”

“No!”

“Twice.”

“NO!”

I nodded and sat next to her as she jumped up, a wild look on her face.

“You fucked the guy you beat the shit out of?”

I nodded again, biting my lip and cringing.

“I thought you hated him?”

“I do. I mean, I don’t hate him. He just infuriates me so much.”

She pauses for a second, smirking and raising her brows as she sits down beside me.

“Was it good?”

I closed my eyes and breathed out, memories flooding my brain.

“Oh my God Charlie you have no idea…” I crisscross my legs and face her, and she does the same. We look like a couple of teenage girls talking about our high school crushes at a sleepover.

“That good?”

“It was the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. He’s ruined me,” I sighed as I saw her wicked expression, her gaze flitting between myself and the shopping bags abandoned on the floor.

“What?”

She picked up one of the bags and plunged her hand in, fishing around for a second before pulling out an outfit. There were… bunny ears?

OH

A slutty bunny outfit was thrown onto the bed, the bodysuit crafted with expertise and soft black velvet, with shaping-bones ascending the bodice and plush padding in the bra cups. The white cuffs were made of soft, pressed cotton, and amongst it all I spotted a little fluffy tail.

“Why have you bought me a Playboy outfit?” I raised an eyebrow, unable to stop myself from finding out if the tail was as soft as it looked. It was. Charlie beamed.

“Because the girls at this club are known for their irresistible aesthetic. You’ll need to blend in. But don’t worry,” she gestured to the other bags, “if you don’t want to be a bunny I bought you more.”

“Of course they wear outfits…” I groaned, knowing that the boys will never let me live this down.

“Plus…” Charlie wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “now that I know you’re FINALLY getting laid, you can actually put these towards their intended use.”

I smirked and threw a pillow at her.

“Oh yeah? And when was the last time you got laid?”

She rolled off the bed dramatically before throwing the pillow back at me.

“A lady never tells!”

“Bullshit!” I laughed, before grabbing the outfit off the covers and headed to the bathroom to try it on.

*

The afternoon passed by quickly, most of it spent trying on those ridiculous outfits that Charlie had bought for me. I must have tried on a dozen, ranging from ‘let’s only cover flaps and nips,’ to ‘you’re gonna need x-ray vision’. I went for something in between, not too scandalous but enough skin on show to get the wolves howling. Charlie lounged around on my bed reading comics and muttering to herself whilst I busied away getting ready, doing my hair and makeup and quadruple checking that this ridiculous outfit wasn’t going to spontaneously explode off my body. Overall the whole ordeal took around five hours from start to finish - six if you include lunch and coffee breaks, and six and a half hours if you took into account all the occasions that Deans ego led him to believe that we ‘might need a mans opinion’ on the matter. Said ego had many a door slammed in his face.

Evening had rolled around and I pulled a long coat over myself - another gift from Charlie - making sure that it covered everything not meant for outside a club environment. Or Comic Con, actually, because I eventually learnt that Charlie had purchased this particular outfit from a cosplay website. It explained a lot to be honest. From the quality fabric to the delicate lace trims and tiny petticoats, it was made to a much higher standard than anything else she’d brought with her. Adorning the final touch upon my head, I exited my room before joining the others in the research room, my heels clicking softly on the hard floor.

Upon arrival, all eyes were on me. On my face, my cloaked body, my exposed calves and heeled feet. It was like every other gaze in this room was trying to see through the wool of the overcoat concealing the surprise beneath; a present to be unwrapped… a meal to be devoured. I wasn't sure who to look at, every set of eyes hot with expectation so I chose to study the ribbons on the top of my stilettos, observing in great detail how the fabric shined in the dim lighting. A moment passed before Sam cleared his throat.

“Come on guys, let's get going.”

It should have been Sam that I looked at when I replied, but my eyes were drawn to Dean like a compass to North. His jaw was tight and his eyes dark, as though it pained him to not know what I was wearing. Although he could have been thinking anything really, as we hadn't exactly spoken much since the tantalising events of the previous night and we definitely hadn't spoken about what had happened. I think we were both well aware of the dangerous situation we were putting ourselves in, despite trying to act oblivious to any consequences. We both knew at some point the conversation needed to be had.

“Yes,” I replied to Sam, my voice cracking from the anxiety starting to crawl up my spine, “let's get going before I freeze to death.”

*

The car ride was quiet. Too quiet. Dean was in a weird headspace and didn't crack any of his usual jokes or poke fun at anyone in the car. Sam hadn't made eye contact with me since I gave him the dance, and whenever our eyes met his face erupted into a red-hot blush. Tapping away on her tablet, Charlie paid no mind to any of the silence at first, both of us in the back seat minding our own business. However after a long wait at a red light, she glanced over at me before pulling out her phone and tapped away. It didn't take long for my own phone to vibrate. Retrieving it from my pocket, I opened the message from her.

Chazzie: wtf is going on with you and these guys?

I sighed and wrote my reply.

Me: it's a long story… and tbh I didn't give you all the details about me and Dean…

Chazzie: bitch this is a long drive, tell me! I know Sam won't look at you and Dean won't STOP looking at you. And I know Dean, he's normally a ‘no strings’ kinda guy. But bitch you've got that man on a leash.

I sighed again, throwing her a look before giving in and typing away.

Me: so Dean made me annoyed and told me I would be no good for this mission because he doubted I could even do a basic lap dance. Well, it ground my gears so yesterday evening I put on some music and gave a lap dance to prove my point.

Chazzie: ooh I bet he was in heaven, I remember when you took those classes! You were soooo good <3

Me: awww thanks babes <3 but I didn't give the dance to Dean… I danced for Sam…

I heard her choke on her own spit as she read the message and she threw me a disbelieving look.

Chazzie: WHAT?! Why Sam?! I mean it explains why he won't look at you. But whhhyyy? When you've already fucked D-boi?

Me: tbh I was mad at Dean and I wanted him to suffer. Plus I had a point to prove, he needed to be able to see the show to know I was good.

Chazzie: I mean that's true! How did he take it when you danced for Sam?

Me: tbh I don't think he was best impressed at first, but then I think he just enjoyed the show. … I do feel a bit bad for Sam tho for dragging him into his. I feel bad for using him.

Chazzie: don't! I can tell he loved every minute of it from the permanent blush on his face hehehe. You're a wicked woman tho. Really torturing those boys. How long did it take for Dean to come to your room?

Me: ughhh don’t even joke… you make me sound like I'm in some shitty YA novel… and technically he didn't come to my room. I bumped into him in the corridor. Then he told me he ‘couldn't stop thinking about me’. The we made out and then we eventually fucked in my room.

Chazzie: Welp somehow you've made Dean Winchester your bitch. Gold medal for you, because I've seen soooo many girls try and fail. So did he wake up in your room or did he go back to his? Because this is fucking important.

I looked at her and felt my face heat up, a grin appearing on her face as she playfully smacked my arm.

Chazzie: bitch seriously?! He stayed the night?!

Me: technically no… my sheets were ruined so we slept in his bed instead …

Before anymore texts could be exchanged, I felt the car slow to a stop and the handbrake engaged, engine flicking off. Dean turned to face us, doing a double take over my blushing expression and Charlie's wild grin. He mumbled something under his breath about this making him nervous before he faced forward again and Sam turned around instead, his soft gaze scanning my made-up eyes and lips.

“Are you sure you're ok with this (Y/n)? Because it's still ok for you to back out now if you want.”

The older Winchester tore his gaze away from the lone two-storey building before us; its neon lights reflecting in the puddles on the pavement. Two guys in leather jackets stood outside, and I'm assuming they were security. Dean's expression turned to one of unease as he surveyed the club from a distance.

“Exactly what Sammy said. (Y/n) this is dangerous and I don't want you going in there. Back out now.”

I couldn't help but scoff and roll my eyes.

“I've not gotten this far and this fucking dressed up to give up now. Besides, my safety isn't as important as the safety of the civilians who are at risk of leaving these vamps even a day longer. You know that. That's why we do this job-”

“Look, your safety is all I give a shit about.”

Dean's assertiveness came as a slight shock, not just to myself but to him as well. We blinked at each other before I turned to Charlie.

“Do you have the paperwork and ID I need to get in?” I heard Dean sigh and turn back to face the steering wheel, cursing under his breath. Without saying another word, I took the envelope from Charlie's grasp and flung the door to the impala open, clambered out and slammed the door behind me.

——————————————————————

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @aliceeinwonderland420 @tina-theslytherin @deans-queen @hobby27 @sobearcowboy @girls-alias @selfdestructionandrhum @ericasabe @lacilou @littlemadamred @anneanirac @deans-baby-momma @swimregulas @ashdoctor @littlemarvelstan8 @atcamillanorrman @deangirl96 @zannemes @kr804573 @foxyjwls007 @divadinag @cookiemonstermusic258 @mysterialee @ababy-girl @joonseuph0ria @mxltifxnd0m @deans-spinster-witch @st4bl3-ch40s @feyresqueen @roseblue373 @clusterfuck-meup @urinternetmom @rachiem4-blog @ceeshellecee @mojos-hidden-castle @snowayumi @evzyi @mymuseisbipolar @magssteenkamp @koharuheartfilia @spookyysinsanity @safiyas-world @uncle-eggy @happyt0exist @supernaturalstilinski @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @mrsjenniferwinchester

Up Next: Chapter 11

[bookuce]

One More Day (Roman Reigns One Shot)

Summary: It’s been four months since Joe lost the Undisputed Championship at Wrestlemania 40. Although you are enjoying this time together, Joe has to go back on the road tomorrow, and you plan to make every second, every hour leading up to his departure count.

WORD COUNT: 1.4K

WARNINGS: Fluff

PAIRING: Roman Reigns x Black OC

“I’m…Caught up in the Rapture of love.” Music and the smell of food fill their kitchen. Anita Baker was a staple in this household, an artist passed down from Jaiden’s mother to her. She could recall hearing this music on a Sunday evening, her mother quietly singing while she cooked a meal big enough to last them a few days. Now, she was in her own kitchen doing the same thing. Like mother, like daughter.

This song was Jaiden’s favorite. It always puts her in a loving mood. “Nothing else can compare.” She sings softly to herself, her hips swaying from left to right on beat. “When I feel the magic…”

“You better sing it, girl.” A new voice enters the kitchen, causing Jaiden to smile at the pot on the stove before her. She turns over her shoulders, watching as her boyfriend of two years dances up to her. Joe holds his hands up, snapping on the one and two. Jaiden giggles softly. “Ay, caught up in the rapture of you.” He sings out of tune.

“Don’t you go messing up my song!” Jaiden warns him, turning to face him fully.

“I make it better.” He boasts, wrapping his large arm around her waist. “Dance with me.” He commands, moving his hips against hers. Jaiden will never turn down a chance to dance with her man. He’d take her hands into his own, the pair stepping back from each other. He’d lift her arms, crossing them and prompting her to spin into his embrace from behind. She would do just as he requested, leaning back into his touch. They would sway from side to side, smiling at the moment they were sharing. They don’t get many chances to do this since Joe is always on the road. For the last one hundred and twenty days, he’s been home.

She could recall the night he lost his championship like it was yesterday. He mourned the loss at first but quickly came to terms with it. He felt free. He was free. He would like to thank Cody for taking that burden off him. He’s thought about it multiple times. Because of him, it was now possible for Joe to come home to his lady. He needed to make up for lost time, and that he did. They’ve been attached at the hip since they got off the plane from Philly. How many times can one couple have a honeymoon phase? Jaiden wasn’t sure, but she was not complaining.

“I love you here by me, baby…”

"That I do, that I do.” He sings into her ear in agreement, sending shivers down her spine. She’d arch in towards him, giggling softly. Joe moves her past the stove, his eyes venturing into the pot. “What do you have cooking?” He begins to reach in, causing his girlfriend to slap his hand away.

“I knew that was why you came in here. Get out of here.” He holds his hands up in surrender, laughing softly at her.

“I came in here for you.” He lies.

“Alright, Joe.”

“I did!”

She lowers her eyes at the playful Samoan in front of her, slowly turning away to continue preparing dinner for the two of them. “Since it’s the last night I’ll have you here for a while, I wanted to make your favorite meal.” She says, sadness sweeping over her. Joe could hear the sadness in her voice, causing him to be saddened. He approaches her from behind, wrapping his large arms around her diminutive frame.

“You can always come with me.” He tells her. Each time, it was the same proposition. Every time, she would shoot it down. ‘I don’t want to be in the way,’ She’d tell him. He would argue that she was never in the way. In fact, he’d rather her be in his way. He’d prefer her to fill the space around him, to suffocate him with her presence. That’s how much he loved her.

“I can’t just take off from my job, and who’s going to take care of the house while we’re gone?” She asks. Joe lays his head on top of hers.

“I told you to quit that job and let me care for you. You’re using it as Plan B at this point.” He says.

“Plan B?” She asks.

“Mhm,” He hums. “If things don’t work out with us, you want to be sure you’re safe.” She gets quiet. He was right. Her mother always told her not to make big or permanent decisions because of a man. She wanted her to learn from her mistakes. “I don’t intend on things not working out with us,” He starts. “I do intend on making you my wife one of these days.” He says, causing her to smile softly to herself. Believe it or not, they’d never had the marriage talk before this moment. With Joe being as famous as he was, she half expects him to meet someone who matches him perfectly. He would argue she fits him like a glove; it doesn’t get more perfect than this.

“You see me as a wife?” She asks.

“I see you as my wife.” He corrects her. She turns around in his arms, her brown eyes peering up at the man before her. “We got something good going on, don’t we?” She would like to think they did. She couldn’t imagine a world without him now that she had a taste of what could be with him.

“I’d like to think so.” She agrees with a single nod.

“So, come with me on the road.” He asks once more.

“The house—.”

“My mom has already said she’d watch the house. You won’t come home to dead plants if she does. You will if you let your cousin do it again.” He mutters the last half, but she hears him. She stifles a laugh. “I’m still trying to figure out how she did that much damage in three days.”

“I think she watered them each day she came over.” Jaiden assumes.

“Mm,” Joe hums. A comfortable silence would fall on the two for a few seconds. “So, are you coming or not?” He says suddenly. Her head would drop against his chest, a silent laugh shaking her. He was eager to have her on the road with him and was no longer taking no for an answer.

“You just don’t let up, do you?” She mumbles. Jaiden would lift her head from his shirt, locking eyes with the giant man once more. “How about next week?” She offers.

He’d suck his teeth at her, his head slowly shaking. “That ain’t gonna work for me, Jaiden.”

“And why not?” She asks, eyebrow now lifted.

“Because you say next week, and then next week will come, and you’ll come up with some crazy excuse as to why you can’t—Much like you are right now.” He explains, looking down at her once more. Jaiden’s eyes would lower at him again. How dare he perceive her? “You can get that look off your face.” He tells her.

“Or what?” She challenges him. Joe’s head would tilt to the side at her question.

“You know what.” He replies. Jaiden sinks her teeth into her bottom lip at his answer. It’s been an ongoing battle keeping that man off of her today. The only peace she had was when he went down for a nap and when he went to the gym. She wasn’t even sure how she was walking, let alone standing now. Her stomach swelled with butterflies—anxiety, as she quickly turned away from him. She reaches forward, turning the stove off.

Joe couldn’t help but smile at her response as she turned away from him. He would lean against the island behind him, his hand reaching up to scratch his beard. “Dinner’s ready.” She says, turning to face him. “Can you set the table for me?” She asks. He’d hesitantly move from in front of her, moving over to a cabinet with dishware. Her gaze would follow him as he moved slowly past her. “Are you okay? Are you not tired?” She asks, putting her hands on her hips.

“Of you? Nah, that’s a hunger that’ll never be satisfied.” He turns to face her, two plates in hand. “Now, give Daddy a kiss.” He leans over her, his lips slightly puckered for a kiss. She’d reach up to give him a quick peck before grabbing food to take to their table. When she entered the dining room, Joe was already sitting at the table. His eyes light up at the sight of his girlfriend.

—————————————————————————————————

A/N: This is one of my first one shots I wrote for Tumblr that never saw the light of day! Inspired by the song I listed up above (old R&B is my jam btw). It was supposed to be longer, but I lost muse for it. If you’d like to see more of it, maybe I can muster up the energy to keep writing it eventually! But until then, enjoy!

🏷️ list: @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @headoftheetable @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @wanderingreigns @wrestlingprincess80 @siriuslycee @vebner37 @astridxxxxxx @alichesmi @tshepisho @scarlettnoir01 @brokenglassslippers @reignsboy19 @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @sisinever @truefant4sy @paigereeder @tbmotw @fearlesschimera @venusesworld @usoholic @sageispunk @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @vibessonvibes @issahyland @fandomphasess @evilli0s

[star2fishmeg]

in honor of quinn's birthday, waking him up with head would be the best gift he receives, like forget about your actual presents.

it's unusual for you to wake up before him, but today's the perfect day to admire his beautiful sleepy face. no frown between his brows, his long lashes brushing his blushy cheeks from sleep. and you can't help it but slowly run a hand down his his warm exposed chest, smiling when you reach his happy trail. and you love it oh so much you need to bring your hand further down. palming him thru his boxers.

“what are you doing?” he mumbles with that raspy morning voice, shuffling a little. you respond with a soft kiss to his plush lips, “relax birthday boy” and you keep your attention to his half hard cock, finally moving your hand to touch him freely, skin to skin.

and when you lower yourself, slowly kissing down his stomach, his hand cradling your cheek, aching for you to put your mouth where he desperately needs you to be, quinn smirks knowing he’s the luckiest man on earth to have you for all for himself. “don’t tease me baby” he whispers when you start with kitten licks on his tip. and you’re putty in his hands so any of his wishes are your commands.

-☝️ anon

☝️ says happy birthday Quinn! This is so hot, like, so hot. Love when you drop by ☝️

Usually, I don't post writings on Mondays but today is a special occasion👀 Excuse any mistakes in this, it's late and I'll probably notice them in the morning.

There's no better way to wake up on his birthday than having his girlfriend's tongue licking a stripe from his base to his tip, running over his veins that pulse and her thumb smearing the precum in soft, circular motions while his grumbly morning voice reverberates through his chest in little grunts.

"You like that, Q?" you ask, eyelids half-lidded and voice so breathy he thinks an angel is whispering to him. You press your lips to his tip, giving it a kiss as a low whimper begs to escape his mouth, "I can't hear you, baby,"

Heat rushes through his body, sweat threatening to form on his forehead as his stomach flips as his cock twitches in your hand, "Fuck, yes! Please, stop teasing."

"Birthday boy gets what birthday boy wants~" you chime, taking his tip between your lips, his stomach tensing feeling you slowly, torturously lower yourself down on him, tongue swirling around him until laying it flat on the underside of his cock, your feverish moan vibrating against every nerve and electrifies him.

"Shit, shit! Feel so fucking good," he bumbles, groans slipping from his chest, tiredness overridden by raptures when he hit the back of your throat. He opens his eyes fully to a gorgeous sight; you sucking his cock with such ease, watching his length exit then enter your throat as you bob at a satisfying pace, not too fast but not painfully slow, a speed where he can fully embrace the euphoria that makes him dizzy, makes his chest warm, his stomach fluttery and fizzy, build up that puddle of arousal in the pit of his stomach and the very thought of that coil snapping and leaking from your lips has his hand creeping into your hair.

He doesn't grip your roots harsh; he's tangling his fingers gently and guiding you along his cock, whining freely into his bedroom at the early hours of the morning, listening to your carnal moaning - deep and uncontrolled, from your lungs like you mean it - like it's a bird's song. That coil inside him tightens, that sweat trickles down his temple and your head moves faster and he throws his head back the second your fingers fondle his balls. But a giddy, sparkly feeling festers in his chest for what else you have in store after he plans to spill hot cum down your throat.

[delirious-donna]

tw: kafka x female reader, sloppy blowjob, implication of sex, whimpering kafka (of course 😏)

Bright turquoise eyes, reminiscent of the skies nearing sunset with hues of green and blue painted across a cloudless horizon, followed your movement as you crawled atop his naked torso. Every muscle jerked, twitching beneath your greedy mouth, a trail of kisses pathing the way up the side of his neck. Wet, open-mouthed kisses spread across his golden skin, only pausing to suck little bruising marks until he was pulling you up with hasty hands.

Kafka’s demanding lips pressed firmly to your own, kissing you sloppily in amongst swallowed moans and soft whimpers, and not only from you. He seemed intent upon devouring you, his tongue entwined messily with yours until you had to shove at his shoulders simply to draw air into your burning lungs.

You grinned, wide and drunk on the desire thrumming through your nervous system, giddy from the dusting of heat on his cheeks and crawling up his neck like a rash. Kafka palmed your breasts, holding the generous mounds gently as his thumbs played across your taut nipples. It forced a low hiss through your gritted teeth, tingles tightening the buds even more whilst you fixed him with a firm stare and a slow shake of your head.

For once, you wanted to put his needs above yours. For once you were desperate to have him fall apart from your actions alone. He was always so giving, and whilst you knew he got off on making you feel such sharp and potent pleasure, you wanted to see him stretch out like a king. You knew he would look irresistible with an arm slung behind his head and those wide loving eyes fixed on your every wiggle.

His frown at your insistence that his hands fall from the cushion of your breasts was short-lived as he listened to your offered words instead.

“I wanna make you feel good, Kaf. I wanna taste you so bad and have you lay back to enjoy it all… ‘kay?”

He swallowed thickly, the bob of his Adam’s apple exaggerated by the lump lodged in his throat, and he let you use your strength to press his spine to the sheets with you above him. Kafka’s eyes were everywhere, not pausing for longer than a few seconds whilst he watched you shimmy and find a comfortable position. He worshipped you with his gaze alone since you raised your eyebrow in warning anytime his fingers reached out for you, biting his lip to smother the whine trying to escape his throat.

There was a genuine concern that he might pass out when you finally lowered yourself to settle between his thighs, wriggling over the firm bulge in his underwear and grasping at the waistband to pull his aching erection from their tight hold. The tendons in his neck pulled taut as you maintained eye contact, preening on the inside at his reactions. Your pink tongue lolled out, saliva dripping from the tip and falling to his purpled skin and chasing it down with wet kitten licks to his throbbing tip. Purred moans vibrated up Kafka’s shaft as you tasted the salty musk of the pearls of thick precum weeping steadily from his slit and he nearly jolted upright in the bed at the sensation.

“Holy fucking shit—babe!”

How empowering it was to bring a man—this man—to such easy rapture. This was Kafka Hibino, the man hosting a powerful kaiju and working with the top brass of the Defense Force to protect the country, but most importantly, he was your boyfriend. He was a man that housed an even bigger heart, and his biggest weakness was you.

“Easy there, big boy… try to relax,” you soothed, fixing a palm atop his chest and feeling how frantically his heart was beating beneath your fingers. Kafka howled, turning his head into the marshmallow pillows but only for a moment before he was peeking again, unable to resist watching even if it was his own undoing.

You hummed, admiring his length and girth. His cock was thick all over, but the base was especially wide, so wide that it always proved a stretch when he bottomed out. With your hand wrapped as firmly around the base as you could manage, you tapped his leaking tip to your pursed lips until webs of sticky messy connected you to him. Only then did you let go to watch the heavy weight of his cock fall against his stomach with a groan.

Kafka fisted the sheets, his hips straining upwards as you accommodated him within the wet confines of your mouth, toying with the tight skin running under the head of cock and doing your damnedest not to wiggle around too much. You knew how close he was to blowing a gasket and tempting him with the rhythmical sway of your hips and backside was not what you wanted to push him over the edge.

Drool pooled from the edges of your lips, the noisy slurps causing his eyes to roll over to the back of his skull and you moaned around him, husky and wanton for more. The vibrations resonated right into his belly, heavy balls tight with the want to pump his load down your throat so soon. Sweat edged his hairline, beads of it rolling down his temples to become stuck on the popped veins.

“Babe… shit. ‘m so close—gotta… you gotta stop!” He enthused each word with a whine, his chest heaving with every noisy bob of your head. The lewd slick slick echoing in your head to mingle beautifully with how desperate he sounded.

In answer, you shook your head. You had no qualms about him spilling so soon, the night was young, and you were determined to make him lose himself to your ministrations over and over until he was completely spent and sated. The second your teeth unsheathed, careful and delicate against his sensitive cock, he panted loudly at the overwhelming sensation. Your tongue was playful, explorative and unyielding as you toyed with the thick veins that ran the length of him.

Without warning, ropes of hot sticky cum painted your mouth. The volume took you by surprise, thick spurts falling down your throat and filling you up fast. Kafka had just enough conscious thought to pull his hips back. Through strained whimpers and convulsions that wracked his stomach and legs, he was able to grasp at the hinge of your jaw, his thumb hooked inside your mouth.

You were startled by the action, opening up in reaction just as he spoke through a deep husky intonation that had your cunt clenching around nothing and wishing for something.

“Lemme see baby, open up for me. Show me how much of that load you swallowed down. Mm… that’s it. You think this is a lot? Just wait ‘til I get that pretty pussy wrapped around my dick.”

[moonlight-prose]

For your Sinful Soiree, could I possibly request "you're hot when you talk back" from the 1st prompt list, with Joel Miller (because I'm a basic bitch) but maybe with the reader saying it to Joel? ♥️

MORE AND MORE

a/n: i really went off with this one babes. it was supposed to be filthy and short, but i somehow turned it into a fic about being loved entirely and loving each part of a person. i still made it filthy because you can't have smut without angst. right? i hope you enjoy it!

summary: "he wanted to know every part of you, everything you kept hidden for fear of it being rejected. and you let him."

word count: 1.1k+

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, oral (m receiving), mentions of violence, angst, cumplay/cumeating, spit play sort of, joel being cocky, the kinkiness of loving someone's dark parts.

He snapped in the middle of the bar. His hands curling into fists, eyes blazing with a fire that usually came as he held his rifle, the barrel pointed at imminent danger. It burned in his chest, spreading to the very tips of his fingers. Until his vision flared red and he could taste copper in the back of his throat.

It was a fire that only came when he had to protect what he loved—what he couldn’t lose. You’d grown to know it well. Falling in love with the hidden craving he tried to hide beneath the surface—the darkness that lurked beneath.

Except this time the danger came in the form of a man. Drunk and stupid, but still brave enough to challenge the man who could easily take him down. The man who was five seconds away from letting his fist fly through the air until blood stained his skin. But that was the thing about the two of you. When it came to situations like this, you would have let him.

One glance at Tommy standing on the sidelines let Joel know there was no place for violence in the bar. And the snowfall outside was too much of a hindrance to take the fight somewhere else. So Joel snapped. Told the man to shove his comments up his drunken ass or Joel would help him sober up. The gleam in his eyes and the lilt of his tone was all that the other man needed to back off and sulk in the corner.

Giving you a chance to drag Joel home. 

Per the request of Tommy.

Although if you were being honest with yourself, (which you hardly were at a time like this) you dragged Joel home for a different reason altogether. The same reason that you were now willingly scraping your knees on the shitty rug beside your bed. Joel’s voice a breathy rumble of praises and half mumbled comments about how gorgeous you were.

His fingers dug into the back of your neck, cheeks flushed a beautiful shade of red, and eyes fixed on the sight of your lips spread around his cock.

“What…ah, fuck sugar your mouth is heaven.” You felt the urge to grin overcome you, but chose instead to press your tongue against the vein that ran on the underside of his cock. “What brought this on?”

Spit trailed down your chin as you raised your head—knowing for certain that you looked like an utter mess. But that didn’t stop him from running his thumb across your bottom lip. Spreading the mixture of your spit and his precum along your cheek—watching in rapture as it shone against your skin.

You shrugged, a grin playing at the corner of your lips. You knew he had an idea about it five seconds into his pants being pulled down. He just needed confirmation that it was true. Your refusal to look at him did just that—causing his own lips to pull into a smirk. A sight that had you pressing your thighs together desperate for some friction.

“So that did it for you huh?”

The cockiness in his demeanor nearly undid you. Heat spread through your cheeks and down to your chest as he continued to watch you. Peeling back another layer in your psyche and yanking it forward before it had time to sink into the darkness. He wanted to know every part of you, everything you kept hidden for fear of it being rejected.

And you let him. Because deep down you knew he wouldn’t turn it away. He’d cherish them, allow them to thrive in his presence. Just as you did with the darkness he hid away from the rest of the world.

Glancing up, you caught the sincere glimmer in his brown eyes. A look that had you melting into his touch, practically preening as he continued to make a mess against your cheek.

“You’re hot when you talk back,” you said softly, as if you were nervous.

He merely smiled, his tongue peeking out to slide against his bottom lip. “You like when I’m like that?”

He didn’t say it explicitly, but you knew what he meant. When he lost his cool, letting a little bit of the Joel that existed before you seep in. The Joel he continued to hide. You wanted to explain that you loved him regardless; you wanted him every way he would give himself to you. But words wouldn’t do your feelings justice anyway.

“I love all of you,” you breathed, leaning into his touch, your hand stroking him slowly—keeping him hurtling towards a release he tried to stave off.

It’s when your lips wrapped around his cock again, pushing yourself until he reached the back of your throat, where you proceeded to swallow, that his words fell free. He moaned, his hand trying not to keep you right there, but failing the second you cupped his balls. A stream of you’re perfect and I love you and I'd do anything to keep you safe fell from his lips, his eyes nearly rolling back in his head.

“Fuck you’re gonna make me cum,” he spit, his other hand gripping the sheets so tightly you were sure they would rip any second. So you slid your hand into his, letting him press your palm into the mattress as he would when he was thrusting into you.

You moaned when he thrusted into your mouth, the spurt of precum spreading on your tongue. And that did him in. He came with a hoarse cry of your name, his head falling forward and body crumpling in on himself. You wanted to burn the image of him like this into your mind. So you could see it every time you closed your eyes. But you settled for keeping him this way until he could no longer take the hot wet feel of your mouth, the divine caress of your tongue.

“Sugar I’m gonna—fuck,” he gasped, pulling you off him and watching whatever you couldn’t catch in your mouth drip down your throat. “You tryna kill me?”

A smile crossed your lips as you got up with a slight wince, crawling into his lap. “I wasn’t done yet.” You pressed your finger to his bottom lip, pulling at it lightly. “I wanted all of you in my mouth.

“Shit,” he breathed, his thumb gathering the pearly cum that still streaked down your throat, dragging it up to your mouth. “Well then open wide baby. And then it’s my turn.”

[brokenmutations]

Bloom

Logan Howlett • They/Them Pronouns • Listened to “Bloom” by The Paper Kites • Mutant!Reader [Levitation (A variant of Flight)] • SFW/Smol ANGST • TW: Scars / Mentions of Nightmares & Past Missions

If you were to tell Logan Howlett, The Wolverine, that he’d finally have the life he’s always wanted at the start of it all? He wouldn’t believe you.

But thankfully, they gave him exactly what he’s always wanted.

The sunlight shined in the room right as the sun rose in the horizon. A soft groan escapes his lips when the light hit his face causing him to roll over opening his eyes. He couldn’t help the small smile that broke out on his face when he started to admire the sleeping being beside him.

Y/F/N Y/L/N came into his life unexpectedly, granted they came into all the X-Men’s lives unexpectedly.

“Where the fuck did they come from?!” Nightcrawler shouted, the last person you’d expected to be surprised by magically popping out of nowhere.

“We found them on our latest mission. They don’t fully understand why they were experimented on or even kidnapped. They say their mutation is not noteworthy” Ororo stated, simply repeating what they told them.

“Every mutation is important.” Charles added as he wheeled up beside the exam table that Y/N currently sat on. They let Jean run all the tests in case of any further injury outside of the visible war wounds they carried from recent experimentation. “You’re safe now and that’s all that matters”

The blank stare Y/N carried, they carried even after the initial meetings of most X-Men. After exploring the mansion and learning where their room was, Y/N found themselves outside in the garden staring at the night sky. Their mutation sometimes has a mind of their own and the more clear their mind, the more likely they will start floating and this case they did.

At this timing, Logan had stepped out to smoke his cigar given he would get a talking to or worse his mind fucked with if he smoked inside the building when children were around. So he waited for the night and expected to be alone outside but then he noticed the floating individual.

“What the actual fuck” He huffed out, putting his cigar away and approaching the situation with only more confusion. He’s not a religious man but last time someone talked to him about the Bible, he thought your clothes would rip off when being raptured. Or was that a reference from a shitty tv show he’s seen?

The higher they got, the more conflicted he got with whether he should yell at them or climb up a tree and launch at them to bring them down.

He went with the latter.

As Logan climbed up the nearest tree, he kept stumbling trying to drag his adamantium ass up.

“What are you doing?”

“Saving you” Logan stated only to suddenly stop and pierce his claws into the trunk when he noticed the floating figure was now closer to him. “What the fuck”

“You said that already”

“So you heard me?!” He snapped, expecting them to flinch but they kept a stone cold expression. “I could’ve avoided this”

“Right” They frown straightening themselves out and extending a hand to him. “Trust me?”

“No”

“Do it for a second”

“Have you heard anything about me?”

“No”

Logan gave them a skeptical look. He doesn’t know how far their mutation works and is only thinking about how his skeleton will make them both plummet. But with a little faith, he took their hand.

And he hasn’t let go since.

He froze slightly when he heard a deep inhale from their no longer still form. They sigh softly, opening their eyes and noticing Logan’s gaze on them.

“Mm…morning”

“Good morning” Logan whispers brushing the hair out of the way of their face, watching them ease into his touch as his hand lingered on their cheek. “How’d you sleep?”

“Good…you didn’t wake up once, so extra good” Y/N brought themselves close letting him adjust to them pressing their body against his, hiding their face in his chest. “No nightmares…”

“Yeah, no nightmares” He whispers, wrapping his arms around them and resting his cheek on top of their head.

After some early morning cuddles, the two rose from the bed to their bathroom to share a shower and get ready for the day. Y/N went ahead to make coffee and tea for the both of them while Logan got the truck loaded up for them to head into town.

After everything they’ve done for the X-Men and the school, they decided to live out in the woods and have the life they both deserve. Yes they still help whenever they are called but they are at the bottom of that list.

Logan leaned against the fence watching Y/N herd their few chickens and ducks back into their coops before they headed out. He couldn’t help the laugh when they struggled to get their two goth chickens back inside but once they did, they instantly shot a playful glare to the lumberjack.

“So, what do we need?” Logan, who always took hold of the cart of them, asked as they both went through the isles getting the essentials mainly but he asked if anything sparked up in Y/N’s mind.

“Promised Charles I’d bake a couple dozen cookies for the students. I gotta grab at least two bake storage boxes…or whatever they are called” Y/N pulled the cart from the end into the baking isle to grab what they’ll need to bake everything.

“Can you uh. Make the ones with what nut in it again?”

“The white chocolate macadamia nut cookies?” They smile knowing damn well why he asked about those cookies, they were his favorite. “I’ll make a batch just for you, but I’ve gotta stick to the no nuts rule for the school”

Logan couldn’t help himself in the moment with giving his affection toward them in public. Even if it were just the two of them in the isle. He brought himself around the cart, bringing them into his arms and pressing his lips firmly against theirs. They giggled against his lips wrapping their arms around him and kissing him once more before parting and giving him a loving look as they held onto each other.

After getting their groceries and walking back to the truck, Y/N got in the car before Logan noticing how he’s stalling as they brought their upper half out the window watching him. Logan brought himself toward the greenery by their supermarket finding an abandoned box.

“Lo, what is it?” Y/N frowns watching him return with the box, he opened their door resting the box in their lap. Their frown faded and quickly turned into a soft smile.

Shortly after that, Logan found himself grumbling as he sat on the couch feeding one out of three kittens with a syringe of kitten formula.

“Why am I doing this again?”

“I made the syringes this time. So it’s your turn to feed them. Besides, I also promised these cookies and you don’t know how to bake” Y/N laughs softly, putting a new batch in the over before making their way to the couch leaning over and petting the two kittens that were snuggling with each other on the blanket beside Logan. “I’ll make you an extra batch of your favorite”

“Mmm fine. I’ll do it for that” Logan knows he’s doing it for them, but he got a laugh for that.

Seven dozen chocolate chip cookies, two dozen white chocolate macadamia nut cookies, and three fed kittens later…

Y/N packed up the cookies while Logan made up a small nest of blankets in the corner of the living room with a heating pad underneath for the three kittens to sleep for the night. Of course either of them will check on the three during the night but for now they were convening on the couch once everything was situated. They sat down after Logan, grabbing his hand and bringing his arm around their shoulders as they situate themselves in his arms.

“Comfy?”

“Mm. Always” Y/N smiles shifting slightly for the two of them to lay on the couch and for them to lay on Logan more comfortably in between his legs. “I made so many cookies…I’m too tired for dinner”

“I’ll make it, but in a bit” Logan wraps his arms around their torso pulling them impossibly closer. He rests his cheek against their temple, feeling him nuzzle into his touch.

Dinner was simple. Pasta, some veggies, and whiskey for Logan, wine for Y/N. They wind down for the night and the next day was another start.

“Remind me to never let you drive again”

“I’m not a terrible driver, love. I said I was driving and you let me so” Y/N shrugs smiling as they knew his truck was his second love and that’s why he’s making a fuss. “We’re almost there” they continued to smile, focusing on the road as they brought their hand to his thigh giving him a smirk.

“That’s my move”

“Yeah but I’m the driver” They smirk. “So it’s mine” they smile wider when he laughed.

The second they arrived to the mansion they both watched Ororo happily head down the steps with the biggest smile on her face. Y/N parked the truck and got out quick so they could be the first to hug Ororo while Logan on the other hand was bombarded with hugs by Rogue and Jubilee.

“You bring the goods?” Ororo smiles as they nod before leading her to the bed of the truck to grab the boxes of goods. “You are a miracle worker”

“I try” Y/N smiles helping Ororo as they watch Rogue talk Logan’s ear off about Remy and Jubilee talking about how she’ll be able to teach a class soon in the Danger Room. He was happy and content.

Once the cookies were set up for easy grab from the students, Ororo took Y/N through the mansion talking about the changes her and Hank have been doing ever since the Professor stepped down from principal. Being solely a teacher and a parent to every kid that comes through is what he decided to primarily focus on. He asked for the cookies as a boost in the mood for mainly the new students and for those silently struggling.

Y/N’s baked goods have always done that.

“Hey”

Y/N looked up from the counter to address the presence of Jean and Scott who both noticed their absence after a tough mission.

“Hi”

“How are you feeling?” Scott asks bringing himself to the counter they had all the baking supplies sprawled out on, to lean on it.

“ok” Y/N says softly, putting a new tray in the oven after taking out the finished one and placing it on the kitchen island where Jean sat. “Feel free” they pointed to their cooled off batch of cookies before returning to making their fourth dozen.

“Are you sure? You took quite the hit during the mission…” Jean frowns picking up a cookie and picking it apart.

Y/N shrugged for the most part as they looked down at their left leg that was bandaged. They really shouldn’t be standing after having their leg trapped. But Hank said it would be fine given they use their mutation to keep the weight off without being off balance.

“How are uhm…Ororo…and Logan?” They frown at Scott who brought himself to sit on the part of the counter not occupied with their baking.

“Ororo is recovering comfortably in her own bed. A concussion and a few cuts that had to be stitched….and for Logan, you know he can heal. But the bullets he took to the head still…left him unconscious and we don’t know how he’ll react when he wakes up”

“We studied the bullets. None were made of adamantium so they bounced off his skull but the impact still left him uneasy” Jean continued as the anxious feeling disappear when she took a bite of one of Y/N’s cookies. “Fuck…this has to be the most comforting thing I had in a while..these missions are getting rougher”

Scott hoped off the counter and took one of the finished cookies to get in one the action of the baked comfort. Y/N put in the last batch before grabbing a few Tupperware to put a few in.

Ororo didn’t stir when her door opened as she was exhausted after the mission. For good reason. Y/N quietly entered the room and set the tin on her nightstand before leaving to the basement.

The basement was quiet when Y/N first stepped in as they slowly make their way to the infirmary finding Hank checking Logan’s vitals. He turns his head to the hiss of the doors, smiling to find them standing in the doorway holding another tupperware tin.

“Is your leg bothering you, Y/N? Or what can I do to help” Hank questions only for them to hand him the second tin. He opens them with a bit of confused look but it broke out to a smile. “Cookies! You make these?”

“Y-Yeah. I uhm. Bake when certain things happen as a comforting thing. Thought I can…share it with everybody after today” Their eyes lingered to Logan’s still form as Hank caught that which prompted him to rest a reassuring hand on their shoulder.

“He’s going to be okay” Hank reassured even if he had a bit of tension when they started to tear up a bit. “I promise and I can with Logan”

“Stupid fur ball…”

Both of them turn to find Logan sitting up and taking off the EKG leads as Hank approaches him with a smile.

“This stupid fur ball made sure you were alright while unconscious. I’d like a scan to make sure—-“

Logan sniffed around intrigued by it as he gave Y/N a confused look, which resulted in them walking over to the counter Hank set the tin on and bringing it over to him. He popped open the tin and instantly ate a few of the cookies given he’s been out cold for a while and hungry. Hank laughs, thankful to know his appetite didn’t change.

“Fuck…I needed this”

Logan smiles watching Y/N approach him with something behind their back.

“You know I can smell them right”

“Right, but I still come with gifts anyway” Y/N smiles handing him the tin opening it to reveal the white chocolate macadamia nut cookies.

The big bad Wolverine smiles big picking up one of the cookies to enjoy and before he even took a bite, Scott came out of nowhere taking one only for him to glare at the man.

“What? I love them too!”

“Just don’t tell Charles you brought macadamia nuts in here” Jean smiles leaning over Y/N’s shoulder to take one, enjoying the laugh that escaped them toward her words. “We’ve missed you. Logan comes for missions on the rare occasion…wish you would to”

“You mean the very rare missions? You should be glad you don’t need me”

“We are. But we still miss you” Scott adds, about to take another cookie only for Logan to smack his hand. “Well okay”

As the day winds down into night, the students return to their rooms and let the teachers and those visiting to have time just them. Y/N stepped outside to find Logan standing by the pond watching the night sky and listening to the nature that surrounds the school.

“Remember that night…I found you just. Floating up into the night. Aside from my own anxiety…you looked peaceful. Grounded.” Logan says with a smile, bringing his arm around their shoulders when Y/N stepped beside him.

“My mutation is very minimal compared to others but in a way it makes me feel grounded”

“I rarely see you use it nowadays…does it still make you feel grounded?”

“Mmm” Y/N rests their head on his shoulder with their arm around his back. “I don’t need to use it much anymore…when I feel grounded with you”

[blindmagdalena]

Hunger

18+ 1.8k. homelander x f!reader. established relationship. abuse of super strength. overstimulation. excessive orgasming. 69ing. cunnilingus. blowjobs. just a lot of oral.

An exhaustive demonstration of Homelander's insatiable yearning for love, intimacy, and pussy. 🖤

Homelander is a voracious lover.

Nothing is ever enough, or even near to it. If not firmly checked, chaste kisses spill easily into leisurely makeout sessions, which inevitably stoke the perpetual embers of his need into a roaring fire. He runs preternaturally warm, the heat beneath his skin indicative of the ever present undercurrent of his appetite.

His touches always come with a sense of yearning for more, whether it’s an embrace that lingers a second too long or a simple brush of his knuckles up the bare skin of your arm during a moment of your inattention.

He craves, he craves, and he craves, and never do you believe he is fully satisfied.

Never is his hunger more prevalent than when he’s nestled between your thighs, spreading the rose petal soft lips of your pussy apart with two fingers in a wide V. You can feel his eagerness in the heat of his breaths as they waft over your sensitive skin, as hot as mid July’s burning sun. With those simple huffs, he riles you up before his tongue ever touches you.

He spends a while inhaling the nectar sweet smell of you before finally, wonderfully, his tongue drags a scalding line from your cunt to your clit, licking up the wetness that he’s coaxed from you with nothing more than anticipation.

He never fails to moan at that first blissful taste of you.

“Mm, fuck,” he says, voice low and savoring. He swirls his tongue in a circle over your clit, collecting your slick on his tongue like caviar from a silver spoon before he swallows. The muscle of his tongue is unlike anything you've ever experienced before. It's just as inhumanly strong as the rest of him, and longer than most, plunging into you with supernatural dexterity before sliding up to rub firm, relentless circles over your clit.

The earnestness of his desire for you, the sincerity with which he devours you elevates you within your own body, leaves you feeling resplendent and coveted in a way you never knew you could.

Homelander doesn’t do this as a means to an end. He does it because he enjoys every rapturous second of you on his tongue. He always holds you still through your climax, presses his tongue flat to the gentle flutter of your clit. You can feel him watching you, but you’re too far gone, back arched, head thrown back. 

While it’s always good the first time you come, orgasms are like fireworks. The first handful are only a warm up before the real show begins. By the fifth, the sensation is euphoric, so intense that you lose control of your vocal chords. By the eighth, there comes a dull burn that chases closely behind each one. By the twelfth, the line between pleasure and pain has blurred, but like him, you are addicted to the heat of it all. You tell him that it’s too much, you beg him, but until you specify what for, he will not stop.

You fist your hands in his hair and you sob with the sixteenth orgasm. You would have lost count by now if not for the fact he whispers each number against your skin like a trophy.

“Almost there,” he murmurs, giving your throbbing clit a brief reprieve while he scissors his fingers inside you, thrusting them languidly against the warm, velvety walls of your pussy. “Four more.”

Right. Through the addled haze of pleasure and overstimulation, you remember that he had promised you twenty.

“I can’t,” you whisper, blinking through the blur of tears. You laugh mirthlessly, a hint of mania in your voice. “I can’t–it’s too much.”

“Then tell me to stop,” he whispers in turn, the heat of his words ghosting over your sensitized clit enough to make your whole body jerk, every inch of your skin tingling.

You say nothing. You swear you hear his slick lips split into a grin before you very nearly scream at the returning swelter of his mouth on your cunt.

After twenty orgasms, your entire body aches with pleasure. The muscles in your abdomen suffer with every deep breath you take, thoroughly worked. Your thighs shake uncontrollably. Homelander kisses your own taste into your mouth, and holds you steady while you quiver like a leaf in his arms.

“Holy fuck,” you say eventually, when enough time passes that you’re capable of speech again. You shift tenderly, spread your legs. You’re too sensitive to keep them closed. “You’re insane.”

“And you’re delicious,” he purrs in response, every bit the proverbial cat that got the cream.

After such a marathon, you’d think he would be satiated. At least for a couple of days.

Not even twenty four hours later, Homelander holds you upside down, his nose once again buried in your cunt, your bent knees braced on his shoulders. He has you moaning around his cock, the blood pooling in your skull making you dizzy while his tongue has you squeezing his head between your thighs.

His strength allows him to hold you effortlessly like this, one arm looped around your waist while the other loosely cradles the back of your bobbing head. He’s much less concerned with fucking your face than he is with eating you out, sucking relentlessly on your clit. 

You’re still sensitive, scorched by the heat of his tongue, but when you pull your head back to say as much, his hand flexes against your skull and he pushes you right back down onto his cock, burying himself so deeply into your throat that your nose brushes the thatch of hair that beds his cock, and you gag. 

Maybe it shouldn’t turn you on, but it instantly hurdles you closer to your inevitable release. You grip his hips, moaning loud and lewd. You clench your thighs with every ounce of strength you can muster, but you may as well be trying to drown a fish. Homelander is utterly dissuaded, devouring you with all of the same unrestrained vigor.

You have no choice but to succumb, light headed and overcome with sensation. Your orgasm builds and hits you with the force of a tsunami, erupting from beneath his tongue and radiating out to every part of you. You choke out noises of pleasure, muffled by his cock in your mouth, but no less shameless.

As he always does, he flattens his tongue to your clit to feel it pulsate like the tender beating heart of a songbird as you come. You relish in the stillness of him, the heat of his mouth, and the crashing wave of your own release. You’re so lost in it that the sudden flood of salty come that pools in your mouth catches you completely off guard, spilling from the corners of your lips. 

There was no warning to it, just the release followed by the pitious, desperate way he moans against you as his cock unloads down your throat. He climaxed just from the motionless warm wet of your mouth and the taste of your orgasm against his tongue.

Homelander eases you off of his cock, and you suck in a gasping wet breath, practically delirious with the experience. He shifts you in his grasp until you’re upright again, bridal in his arms. Your head lolls instantly against his chest, the whole world continuing to spin while you’re held perfectly still.

He kisses you. Predictably, it is no less ravenous. He uses that insatiable devil’s tongue to clean yours of his own come, kissing you as much as he’s consuming you.

“I love you,” he says between the insistent press of his lips. He kisses and kisses and kisses, and in each one, you feel how, even directly after coming, he’s still hungry.

“Love me less,” you respond flatly, dead weight in his arms. Your muscles feel like wobbling gelatine and your abdomen is still contracting with the afterwaves of your orgasm. It feels as much a punishment for your hubris as it does a reward.

Unwavering, he laughs, bringing you to the bed. “No can-do. Besides, keeps you nice and docile,” he says, pulling back the covers before he lays you on the bed.

You snort. “Docile? What am I, a 40s housewife at risk for hysteria?”

“Well, you're not a housewife yet,” he says, for which you smack his arm. Incorrigible, he settles in beside you, tugging at you until you flop onto his chest. “But this way, I get you all to myself.”

“Only because I can’t stand the feeling of underwear long enough to leave the house. You’ve maimed me,” you accuse, voice tired and affectionate, lacking any bite at all. Your sleepy smile does little to add any venom.

Homelander cups the side of your face and bumps his nose affectionately against yours before he kisses you. His lips are soft and languid against yours, temporarily robbed of that underlying tension, telling you that he’s put a leash on his hunger.

For now.

“I love you, too,” you say belatedly. His eyes flicker open, as blue and watery as the ocean. 

He is a painfully obvious man at times, wearing his love and sentimentality like the scars his impervious body will never show. There is a woundedness to the way he loves you. He claws at you like an animal, consuming your love and attention with the gluttonous appetite of a beast who fears every meal will be his last. No matter how often he indulges in you, a part of him seems shocked that there’s still something left to eat. Shocked that your love for him has neither rotted nor run dry.

Your limbs slot together with his like jigsaw pieces. Not because you were made for one another, but because you chose to fit. It is romantic to think of love as an inevitable thing, that there is one single person out there who will snap to you like a magnet and contour instantly to your every curve. In reality, love feels much more like masonry. Steel against stone, and the conscious choice to change something as immutable as solid rock.

The raw fire heat of him cools to a simmer, and you lay on him like a reptile over a sun warmed stone. You trace idle patterns with your fingers through the smattering of hair on his chest while he memorizes the plains of your body with slow sweeps of his palms. You write phrases on his skin. You laugh when he guesses wrong, and kiss him when he guesses right.

Homelander’s hunger is not only in the consumption, but in being consumed. He aches to feel you yearn for him in turn. You reciprocate his longing in leisurely naps entangled with one another, and in allowing yourself to desire him without reservation. You’ve never played hard to get with him, or made him feel as though he needs to earn your love. You made it clear time and time again that it is unconditional, and that it belongs to him alone.

You wonder if he will ever realize, amidst this frenzying love of his, that you are as starved for him as he is for you.

[starrdevereauxx]

The Session ( Part 2)

He walks over to her, reaching for her. She reaches out her hand, he moves it and grabs her by the neck. She instantly climaxes in his hands. He’s holding Dev his hands as she drops all over the tall grass.. he moves in close to kiss her cum covered lips.

And then…

His phone rings. Both bolted out of the trance they were just in by the sound of his iPhone going off. He still had her suspended in mid air, leaking her sweet nectar all over earth’s floor. He grabs a few drops from her drenched pussy, and moisturizes his lips and quenches his thirst, before calmly answering the phone.

Giving Dev full eye contact, he answers the phone,

“Hello honey, is everything alright?” Zeke says dauntingly.

Dev immediately tenses up.

“Honey? Wtf!?” She thinks to herself while her pussy is pulsating and dripping in his hands.

A sweet voice answers on the other end, “I’m sorry to interrupt babe, but could you pick up some food on the way home. I’m so hungry and I forget to get groceries”

“Sure baby, what would you like? I’ll get whatever you want.” Zeke smiles to adhere to her requests.

Dev begins to shrink. Zeke realizes this and pauses his call.

“My apologies, I can hang up with my wife right now. I’m so sorry. I don’t want you to feel a way.” He says OPENLY on the phone.

“You’re married!!? Omg put me the fuck down Zeke! I’m leaving right the fuck now and NEVER call me again. This is done. I can’t believe the things we were about to keep doing” Dev says, eye welling up.

It goes silent between Dev and Zeke. He gets ready to reply before he’s cut off by a small voice.

“Please, don’t stop. I’d like to see” says the sweet phone on the phone. “FaceTime me”

Zeke FaceTimes his wife without a second thought. Dev looks confused, intrigued but confused.

“Put me on a tripod, I want a full view” says his spirited partner

Zeke hands Dev the phone. Dev looks into the phone nervously.

“You’re gorgeous. Look at your freckles. If you don’t mind, I’d love to watch you finish whatever it is you were doing. I haven’t came today, and this just might do it for me.” His wife says as she removes her silk panties and pulls out a purple rose fully charged.

Dev still looking confused hands the phone to Zeke to place on the tripod. She falls to her knees in front of the phone, places her hands behind her back and bends over revealing her anal canal to Zeke.

Looking dead into the phone, Dev looks into his wife’s eyes and says “Talk me through it, please?”

At this moment you can see every single vein in Zeke’s erection. Zeke’s eyes become overcome with a joy you can tell he hasn’t felt in a long time. If I wasn’t to sure, I would say that he teared up.

Dev waits with anticipation of the sweet pain of having his dick fully engorged in her tight asshole. He kneels to meet her huge, thick, creamy, freckled ass. She fully arch’s her back, while keeping her eyes fully on his wife.

“Call me ma’am” Zeke’s wife says, as she shows Dev her wet lips as she uses her fingers to prepare for the inevitable encounter that’s unfolding.

“Yes ma’am” Dev moans loudly. Zeke pushes his continuous inches pass the threshold of her anus. He pushes so hard that Dev almost loses control of her left leg, he most definitely hit a nerve. He makes sure to fit his entire dick inside her hole before he pulls out to re-enter again.

“Don’t pull out yet Zeke, let her grip around your dick. Don’t take your eyes off me sweetheart. Both of you look at me, don’t take your eyes off me” his wife says as she’s literally leaking water from just this moment alone.

Zeke moans, tilting his head back in rapture. Dev’s asshole won’t let him go. Gripping him and literally milking him as he sits perfectly still in her cavity.

“Fuck her hard Zeke, take her ass from her. You like how he feels in you mamas?”

“Yes ma’am” Dev replies to his wife. Screaming hard as he’s ripping her in half.

Zeke starts to gain strength and motion as he strikes the captain Morgan pose on top of Dev. One foot in the middle of her back, the other on the ground as he pounds the fuck out of her.

In and out, in and out.. harder and harder, Zeke relentlessly takes her hole from her. Dev begins to smile and cry simultaneously. The pleasure and the pain have over taken her, the whole while Dev’s maintaining a full facetime conversation with Zeke’s lifetime companion.

“Clap…Clap…Clap…Clap” the sound of Dev’s pillowy asscheeks reverberating the loudest backshots you could ever hear in the middle of nowhere. Zeke’s large hands handling the tasks with all his might.

Zeke’s wife has placed a chocolate covered dildo inside her vagina, matching the rhythm of the shots he’s giving Dev. She placed the rose on her clitoris, moving in synced gyrations.

“Harder, please. Please. Oh my God please. Punish my ass, please” Dev screams out in excitement from the inside of her heart. She feels his dick throughout her body. Each pump of his dick, growing closer to ejaculation is filling her up spiritually.

“Fuck, I’m about to cum” Zeke exclaims.

“Me too” his wife moans.

“So am I! Where do you want him to cum ma’am?” Dev grunts.

“Turn her into a Twinkie baby, pour into that hole baby. Make it come out her throat” his wife says with a devilish look in her eyes, “Look at me as my husband fills your slutty ass up. Cum with us”

Everyone is moving hard and fast. Zeke is stepping into her back so hard that he’s turning Dev into a fucking landmark.

“Oooooohhhhh my gooooooddddddd” Dev cums hard as fuck into the grass. Zeke begins to yell as well as he overloads her ass with so much semen that she literally begins to cough. Zeke’s wife has wet up the camera and her bedsheets most definitely needs to be changed.

A lengthy sigh enters the atmosphere. All three of them are dripping from their brows and private areas that are now public domain.

Dev’s ass and asshole are creamed to perfection. She can’t even fathom what just took place.

“Take some cum out of your ass and put it in your mouth. Digest him” his wife says.

Dev does as she commands. Zeke almost instantly cums again just watching them interact.

“Kiss her Zeke, put your tongue down her throat, then kiss her on her pussy”

Zeke does well as he’s told and proceeds to give Dev the wettest kiss below.

“Now you don’t have to stop for dinner. It’s already sitting in your mouth. See you soon” his wife says right before she ends the FaceTime.

Zeke and Dev look at each other with almost an urge to keep going, but the end things there.

“May I tip you extra?” Zeke says with a smile.

“I’m not going to say no” Dev laughs uncomfortably.

DING! Her cashapp goes off, reading $2,000.

“Zeke, you don’t have to do this. You really don’t”

Zeke pulls her by her face saying “We locked in now, this is just the beginning”

He kisses her slowly, gripping her all over her cum drenched body, then walks away.

Being a photographer in Los Angeles, everyone is a “somebody”.

Today, it was Dev’s turn to be a star.

[lotties-ashwagandha]

RAPTURE

lottie matthews x reader, i cant remember word count but it's under 3k i think lmao sorry i promise you'll enjoy it however long it is. praise kink, jealous jealous jealous lottie <3

my fiiiirst ever nsfw fic omg omg

It was no secret for those who lived at the wellness center that you and Lottie were together. It was obvious in the way you were around each other almost constantly, how you substituted for each other when one of you got sick or simply needed a day of rest from teaching meditation classes and leading group therapy. It was obvious in the way you were always linked, her with a hand resting at your waist or you looping your arm around hers. Even for new arrivals it wasn’t hard to figure out, and most of them left you alone after seeing you together.

There were some, however, who couldn’t take a hint, or simply didn’t want to, like the man who stood in front of you.

Lottie was attempting to run him through the list of activities on his schedule as she did with all the new arrivals. She explained where he would be staying, what each class and activity consisted of, and where he could go to volunteer to help run the honey stand at the next farmer’s market.

It was obvious, however, that the last thing he was doing was listening. His eyes were glued to you as you looked over the information he had provided on his form and logged it all into the computer. You didn’t meet his gaze, but you could feel his eyes never leaving you, and to some degree it made you feel sick.

You noticed he left something blank on the form. You put your hand on Lottie’s shoulder and she paused her explanation of the beehives. “You left your phone number blank,” you said to the man.

“You guys took my phone, I didn’t think you needed my number,” he said, smirking. “Are you trying to get my number to call me when I leave this place?”

You scoffed, shaking your head.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” he continued, and you could feel Lottie fuming beside you. “We could go out for a drink sometime, as soon as you let me out of this purple jumpsuit. Unless you’re into that.”

You waited for Lottie to correct him as she did everyone. That it’s heliotrope, it’s not purple. But she never did. Her momentary silence had you turning to her, analyzing her features, and you could see that she was seething.

“You know what, I’ll leave the phone number part blank,” you muttered. “Hope I’ll never need it.”

Lottie slid the man’s schedule across the table to him. “If you find Lisa at the lake, she will explain the rest of your schedule,” she said, her voice level, almost calm. It only confirmed to you how furious she really was, and it made you oddly satisfied.

You almost wanted to laugh at all of it. It was so hard to irritate her, unless someone brought up her time in the wilderness. She could handle anything anyone brought to her, could maneuver every hardship at the wellness center with complete tranquility. But when it came to you, she was a completely different person. Someone could mindlessly brush your shoulder in passing and she would be on top of them, making sure they didn’t do or say anything that would suggest anything but innocence. She was watchful, protective in a sense, and as much as she would try to deny it, jealousy was her greatest fault.

The man receded, watching you as he backed away, and finally turned away to go find Lisa.

“You okay?” you asked, turning to Lottie with a smirk.

“Yes,” she said, a bit too enthusiastically. You could tell the man’s comments had bothered her, and it was only a matter of time before she either went after him or she–

“Can I talk to you in my office for a second?”

There it was. You knew her too well for this to be surprising, but you enjoyed it nonetheless.

You nodded and followed her to her office. Anticipation began to claw at you, you knew this game, she was more obvious than she thought she was.

Lottie shut the door of her office behind the two of you, and just as the lock clicked she was on top of you, shoving you up against the wall, her lips crashing into yours. Her hands snuck just under your shirt, finding your waist, and your skin caught fire at her touch. You could feel how tense she was, as if touching you was the only thing that grounded her.

She moved down to your neck, sucking what was sure to be bruises, nipping at your collarbones. You leaned your head back against the wall, giving her more access. The feeling of her lips on your neck sent shivers down your spine. You knew that anyone who saw you later, saw your neck, would know you were hers, and it only deepened the ache building between your legs.

“You’re mine,” she said, and you nodded, arching into her, wanting more. Lottie pulled her hands away from your waist, taking away all contact but still so close, lips hovering above yours, and you could hear your own heart beating wildly. “Say it.”

You met her gaze, saw the look in her eyes, like a storm, the sky tranquil and perfect until provoked. Fury like lightning but the thunder there always to soothe and subdue it, the land below tormented but beautiful, never neglected by the sky, for they are irrevocably connected.

“Say it,” she urged, and you smirked, leaning back against the wall. Her eyes made obvious her desperation, her desire, and part you wanted to toy with it, see how far she would go to get what she wanted. But you knew she needed it, needed to feel and make sure of the control she always had.

A storm, but you wanted it. You wanted her.

“Yours,” you breathed, leaning in to capture her lips with yours. Wanting more, needing more, for she was everything that mattered.

She moved back down to your neck, nipping at the skin. You wrapped your arms around her, grounding yourself, feeling the tension she was carrying melt away ever so slightly. In the heat of the storm, rain is despair, washed away from the clouds above and leaving them anew in bliss.

Without warning, Lottie slipped her knee between your thighs, and you gasped. The sudden pressure had your hips jerking, and your mind short-circuited, and everything was gone in the world except for her.

She made no effort to conceal her satisfaction at your reaction. A prideful smirk overcame her lips, and she watched you closely, seeming almost fascinated, playing the instrument of your body so perfectly as she had done a hundred times before yet still it was as if she was kissing you for the first time, seeing you for the first time.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” she whispered lowly, one of her hands coming up to rest at the base of your neck, and the slight pressure in her grip had your mind reeling, everything melting away, and all you could focus on was her hands, her words, her leg between yours.

“You,” you pleaded, fumbling with her shirt, and seeing your frustration she pulled it off, tossing it to the floor, and it was all you could do not to moan at the sight of her. “I want you.”

Satisfied, she kissed you again, and you melted into it — she paused only to pull your shirt over your head. She was intoxicating in every way, and you would’ve lived your whole life drunk on her and only her, for she was the sky and the sea and the stars — rapture, and you were witnessing the glory.

Lottie pulled you away from the wall, pushing you onto her desk, lips never leaving yours. She stood between your legs as she unclasped your bra and let it become part of the growing pile of clothes on the floor of her office. She kissed down your chest, hands running up and down your waist before being planted at your hips as she began to kiss your breasts. Leaving marks just because she could, because she was just as drunk on you as you were on her, and every sharp breath you took and every moan that escaped your lips sent her into euphoria.

Her lips around your nipple — rapture, heavy, setting fire to your skin. Your hands tangled in her hair, her eyes meeting yours, and under the lustful pressure of her gaze you could hardly breathe.

“You look so beautiful like this,” she murmured against your skin, and moved to kiss down your sternum. “My pretty girl.”

She pulled at the waistband of your pants, pulling them off of you. Her hands trailed down your thighs, caressing them, watching you as if in awe, wanting to memorize every inch and curve of your body.

“Fuck,” she murmured against your lips, hand slipping down your torso to feel the wetness between your thighs. “So wet for me, such a good girl.” At the sound of the moan that escaped your lips her breath hitched, and you could feel how she wanted this just as much as you did, wanted to hear the noises you made, wanted to elicit them.

She began to circle your clit. At the very same time you felt relief, finally receiving the touch you'd been craving, but after a moment you realized how much more you needed. “Lottie,” you whimpered, grabbing her wrist. “I need, I… please, just…”

You vaguely recognized the prideful smile pulling at her lips before she slipped a finger past your entrance, giving you a moment to adjust before adding another, working them languidly inside of you. You moaned into her mouth as she kissed you, overcome by the sensation of her fingers inside you, her tongue in your mouth, her other hand coming to rest at the base of your neck.

You knew anyone walking by Lottie’s office could hear you. You kept waiting for her to quiet you, to move her hand over your mouth or whisper in your ear that no one should hear, but she didn’t — and if anything it brought you closer to the edge, the prospect that at any moment everyone could know, know that you were hers, just as she wanted.

She scissored her fingers inside you. The heel of her hand pressed against your clit and you gasped, gripping her wrist tighter as she pumped her fingers inside you, sending you into ecstasy.

You clutched at the desk behind you, nails digging into the wood as you tightened around her fingers, burning pleasure shooting through you and making you shudder. It wasn't long before your release hit, and you came undone, your head falling to her shoulder as you rode out your high, white-hot fire burning through you as the coil in your abdomen finally released.

Lottie held you, running her hand up and down your back soothingly as you came down, whispering sweet nothings into your ear — and whispering that you were hers, only hers, and she alone could do this to you, have you over the edge so fast, and on her desk of all places. The sound of her voice grounded you, her words carving into your soul.

As you began to catch your breath you slumped into her, a moment of indulgence, letting her kiss your temple, rub your back. You let her touch bring you back to reality, and in the simple silence you found ecstasy of a different kind.

You raised your head, meeting her eyes for a moment before kissing her gently. The storm had passed, and these touches were of love.

Rapture.

“Yours,” you said against her lips, a small smile pulling at your own. You pulled away, taking her hands. You hadn’t noticed that she had taken her rings off, that they were on the desk beside you. Carefully you began to slip them back onto her fingers, knowing exactly which ring went on each finger, completely in sync with her in every way.

“Just so you know,” you said, grinning, “I would never be attracted to a man in a purple jumpsuit.”

“It’s heliotrope,” she said softly, though she, too, was smiling. “It’s not purple.”

You shook your head, sighing. “Even worse.”

Rapture, and together you witnessed the glory.