#and just. the idea is DELICIOUS. really it is

[beloveds-embrace]

Your angsty duke AU just gave me an idea for a Ghoap AU...

Reader marries duke Riley, who wants nothing to do with her. The servants are all hangovers from the departed duke Riley (because Simon doesn't care enough to replace them) and so are really proper and standoffish.

Except for the stable hand, Johnny, who bonds with the Duchess over their love of horses and feelings of isolation (after all, Johnny is a long way from home)

Cue Simon realising his wife is a little too close to the servant and getting possessive totally not jealous, he's not.

And so he decides the best way to put his little wife back in her place is to fuck Johnny where she can hear/stumble across them, to prove that he owns them (and definitely not choosing Johnny because it's easier than admitting he actually cares about his wife, totally not)

Idk where I'm going with this I just thought it seemed delicious

“Where she can hear/stumble across them” and it’s her own damn office 💀 you are so right tho it’s damn delicious 😩

Because imagine reader… staying, even once you see what they are doing, even once you hear all the filthy things Simon is spewing and Johnny is just taking it. He looks so good like this, tan muscles all bared, hands grabbing your desk because Simon refuses to touch him or let him touch himself. And when Johnny sees you, he gasps and tries to apologize, he really does, but your husband is mean and just shoves his fingers down his throat until Johnny is gagging and drooling as much as his cock is all over your floors.

Simon is always sooo dismissive of you, but maybe if you ask him ever so nicely….

(Simon had anticipated a lot of reactions on your end. He hadn’t anticipated you staying, thighs pressing together and looking at him hopefully. Perhaps he doesn’t know you as well as he thought. Perhaps a different approach is necessary to remind you of where you belong.)

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Art the Clown x Reader | SMUT | CW: reader is married to an abusive husband | reader uses drugs/alcohol to cope with her abusive marriage | murder/killing mentioned

This story is extremely explicit and deliciously fever dream-ish imo. Hope you enjoy it, my fellow clown fuckers ❤️

What the ever loving fuck is wrong with me?

That’s what you were thinking as your common sense peeked out briefly from the fog of alcohol and weed in your system…a moment of sobriety just long enough to make you question what motivation you could have for the decisions you were now making.

He smelled. Like dried blood and sex, the kind of sex that hurts you, but doesn’t stop you from wanting more. Maybe it would have been enough to stop you, under any other (sober) circumstances. But as it was, you were already sitting in this strange man’s lap, in the middle of an empty mall after closing. And what made the situation even more surreal? The fact that he was dressed in a goddamn Santa suit and wearing gaudy black and white clown makeup all over his face.

Yeah, you really needed to stop sneaking into the mall bathroom and getting fucked up. Swiping a pack of edibles and two travel-sized bottles of cinnamon spice vodka from the gas station had been a bad idea to begin with. Using the privacy of the bathroom to get wasted and scroll through your phone for two hours would have been considered strange behavior by most people. But most people (in fact, no one) knew the reason why you avoided home like the plague.

Your husband was abusive, in every way possible. He controlled every aspect of your life, to the point that sometimes, you worried he could even read your thoughts. Where you went, who you spoke to, your finances, your diet, your sex life; everything about you belonged to him. It was suffocating. And while your habit of stealing from the gas station and hiding in the mall bathroom was an unhealthy coping mechanism, you were coping. Even if eventually it bit you in the ass, like tonight. When you got a little too high, a little too drunk, to notice the time, or the fact that the mall outside the bathroom stall you were locked in had grown quiet…

The mall was closed. Fucking closed, with you locked inside it. You’d staggered out of the bathroom like a fucking zombie in what looked to be a post apocalyptic scene. The mall was empty, devoid of life. Everything was eerily silent, apart from your footsteps shuffling across the tile floor as you took in your empty surroundings. The mall was dimly-lit, the only light source coming from high above, moonlight streaming in through the big panel windows on the mall ceiling.

You found one of the exits, and tried the door. It was locked, or maybe you were too high/drunk to figure a way out? It didn’t matter because regardless, you weren’t going anywhere for awhile. Either you’d sober up and figure out how to get out, or you’d be stuck waiting till security came by in the morning and let you out. A pleasant thought tickled at the back of your mind: your husband had no idea where you were. It felt good to be so far beyond his radar that his ability to oversee your every move was completely fucked. What did scare you, however, was the thought of confronting him in the morning. How would he react to you staying out all night? Obviously it wouldn’t go over well, and just imagining what your husband’s punishment might involve had your stomach twisting.

So instead of ruining your high by worrying about the inevitable, you decided to finish the last of your vodka, yelling “fuck it!” into the empty void around you. Your voice echoed back at you off the walls of the empty mall. It was creepy, and a little exciting, being unsupervised and alone with this kind of freedom. The excitement you felt only heightened when you noticed him. Your mouth twisted into a grin of disbelief, because how fucking high WERE you that you were literally seeing Santa Claus in front of you right now?? You took a step towards him, still unsure if he was even real.

He was sitting in an ornate wooden chair framed by two massive Christmas trees. The strands of lights decorating them weren’t on, just like all the other lights inside the mall. Above him, a sign written in ridiculously large print read “SANTA,” as if the scene itself would have implied anything other than the jolly old elf’s presence. You forced your gaze to focus on the man/hallucination in front of you, the smile on his face as big as yours. And he was a…clown, too? You laughed out loud, the absurdity of it all becoming too much. Your laughter was tinny and soft, like the sound of jingle bells, and it seemed only fitting considering you were standing mere feet away from the man, the myth, the legend himself: Santa Claus.

He patted his lap, encouraging you over. The fact that he apparently didn’t speak made the vodka-soaked dreamworld you were currently wandering feel even more like a dream. As you approached ‘Santa Clown,’ the possibility of him being a figment of your imagination became less believable. When he reached for your arm and tugged you onto his lap, you were certain. He was absolutely real.

You gasped, a surprised giggle spilling from your lips. The clown seemed to enjoy your amusement, bouncing you on his knee just to hear the string of excited giggles that tumbled out of you. He was playing with you, and you were loving it. His hair, or the wig he wore, spilled over his shoulders in off-white waves, flecked by bits of red. It took you a few seconds to register that the red bits were actually dried blood, and that the same blood was caked onto the beard that hung loosely underneath Santa Clown’s chin.

Should you have been alarmed? Probably. But instead of sensing danger coming from the clown, you felt oddly protected, safe. Whoever that blood belonged to, whoever he may have hurt, the clown didn’t seem in any hurry to hurt YOU. In fact, based on the stiffening pulse of his cock under your ass, it seemed like the clown was enjoying your company very much.

To test your theory, you decided to tease him a little and see where it led. Shifting intentionally on his lap, you reached to smooth the blood-crusted strands of hair back from Santa Clown’s face, revealing his sharp cheekbones and smooth, painted-white skin. He was oddly handsome, attractive in a dark kind of way. The way villains are always more appealing than heroes, or more philosophically, how Eve must have felt when she was seduced by the serpent’s persuasive tongue. There was something forbidden about the clown, something instinctively, inherently wrong about wanting him. And yet, that wrongness was precisely part of the reason you did want him.

His smile faded slowly to an expression you couldn’t name, his eyes going dark. Had your flirting upset him? A chill ran through you as even the air around you both seemed to go colder. A sudden sizzle of electricity made you flinch, and you watched as around you, the lights on the Christmas trees were illuminated. You smiled, a pleased chuckle of surprise leaving your lips, and the clown smiled with you. He seemed to enjoy making you feel good; and perhaps the dark supernatural forces that followed him came in handy in times like these, when manipulating electricity could be used to impress a pretty girl?

The rest of the mall remained in darkness, with only the Christmas lights illuminating the festive scene. “It’s so pretty,” you said, and you realized it was the first time you’d actually spoken to the clown. He nodded, feigning a kind of bashful grin, and extended his index finger toward you, tapping lightly against your breasts. Your eyebrows lifted at the sweet gesture. It had been a long time since anyone had called you ‘pretty,’ and somehow, even in the absence of words, the clown had said everything right.

“Me?” you asked coquettishly, feeling emboldened by the vodka thundering through your system. “You think I’m pretty?”

The clown nodded vigorously, his big, toothy smile returning. “Well y’know what?” you asked through a giggle. “I think you’re pretty handsome, Santa.”

The clown’s mouth made the shape of a surprised ‘O,’ and he pointed to himself, his lips forming the word ‘me???’

“Yeah,” you replied. “And, as a matter of fact-.” You leaned in so your lips were at the clown’s ear, the coppery scent of blood stronger by his face. “-I’m ready to tell you what I want for Christmas…”

You didn’t expect to feel his hand on your chin, turning your head to face him. His expression had shifted back to the one you’d been unable to read earlier, the look you’d mistaken for him being upset. Now, as his thumb tugged your bottom lip downward and his dark eyes studied the shape of your mouth, you realized his expression was one of lust.

You sucked in a breath, extending your tongue to meet his thumb. The metallic tang of old blood met your tastebuds, melting over your tongue as the dried blood under the clown’s thumbnail was wetted by your spit. You didn’t care whose blood it was, because in this strange new reality, nothing beyond this space in the empty mall mattered. His eyes followed his thumb as it pressed deeper, your lips closing around its base, sucking lightly. You shifted again on the clown’s lap; it was so bumpy now that he was fully hard, his erection making it difficult to sit still.

His gaze was fixed on your lips, the space his thumb had disappeared between. You backed your head away slowly, letting his thumb slide out of your mouth with a wet pop. Your hands closed over his thighs to balance yourself as you slipped off his lap, locking your eyes with his as you settled between his boots on the ground. Resting your head against his right thigh, the heady smell of piss and sweat filled your senses. His hand was on your head, fingers laced through your hair and guiding you, inward. Closer. Closer to the space he wanted your mouth, where he needed it to be.

You wet your lips with your tongue and watched as the clown worked the large buckle of his belt undone. He tugged the waist of his pants lower, just enough for his cock to spring free, smacking against his stomach, pre cum clinging to the white fur trim of his jacket. Your mouth fell open at the sight of his member, its impressive length only half as striking as its girth. He closed his gloved hand around himself, pumping up and down his shaft in a few slow, unhurried strokes. The look in his eyes was almost wicked; he knew the thought of him filling your throat intimidated you, and he liked that fear.

With his other hand locked in your hair, the clown pulled your head closer, till your mouth was poised at his tip. He pressed the fat bulb to your lips, admiring the way they parted obediently for him. Urging his hips forward, the clown pushed his cock inside your mouth. The salty taste of his skin on your tongue was unpleasant at first, but you quickly forgot about any discomfort once he’d established a rhythm back and forth inside you. The head of his cock pushed the salty taste to the back of your throat, and you swallowed it down. From there, the only challenge you faced was opening your throat enough to take him. The clown’s hand on your head continued to guide it, pumping your mouth over him like a sleeve. You needed to breathe, to swallow the air his cock was denying you. Just when you thought you might be sick, the clown removed himself from your throat, allowing you the chance to breathe, a long line of saliva trailing from your bottom lip to the head of his cock. He grinned down at you approvingly, patting your head as if to say ‘good girl,’ before lifting you once again by the hair, and shoving himself back between your lips.

He leaned forward and closed his other hand around your throat, feeling his cock fucking you from the inside out. Your cunt was dripping, a pearly string of your wetness slicking the ground between your knees. You squeezed your thighs together as the clown used your throat, desperate for some kind of stimulation. He could sense your desperation, and offered you his boot as a relief, wedging it between your legs to give you something to grind on. You humped it gratefully, rocking your swollen cunt against the clown’s shoe. He stilled inside your throat, buried deep, his fingers tightening in your hair to the point your scalp was stinging. A gush of semen washed down your throat, followed by another. You struggled to swallow it all, your throat constricting as the clown’s cum filled it to capacity. You gagged and choked, and he pulled you off his cock just as vomit began creeping its way up the back of your throat. His wild eyes and wide grin beamed down at you, his chest rising and falling quickly in the aftermath of his climax. Semen you hadn’t been able to swallow dripped down your chin in a thick line. When you attempted to wipe it away, the clown stopped you with a swat of his hand against yours. He wanted to see the results of his work in and on you, his work of Art.

He jerked his boot where it was wedged between your thighs, bouncing you on top of it. You whimpered at the sensation, your neglected little cunt aching and engorged. You needed to come, so badly that it hurt. The clown watched as you stayed knelt at his feet, straddling his boot and humping it like a bitch in heat, grunting and panting, no more than an animal. Your orgasm shook you to your core, your muscles gripping and sucking around nothing, clit throbbing against the clown’s boot as you rubbed yourself into it, moaning and spitting a string of obscenities into his pants leg, where your face was buried.

After your body ceased shaking, you looked up to see the clown still grinning down at you. He offered his hands for you to take hold of, and helped you back into his lap. An hour passed, and then another. You couldn’t say for certain, but you think you must have fallen asleep in the clown’s arms for an hour or so, because at some point, you noticed that the stars were beginning to fade in the sky. Morning was coming, and that meant going home. To your husband. To your abuser.

Fear roiled in your stomach, along with the alcohol and cum filling it. You despised this feeling of dread, of being scared by a shit stain of a human being like your husband. If only you could live free of his tyranny, you imagined. How much better would the world be without the influence of such a toxic man as your husband…?

…And then, the idea formed in your mind. You tilted your head to the clown’s face. Studying the blood on his hair and skin once again, you decided to ask a favor of him. “Santa,” you began, because you didn’t know what else to call him. “You’ve killed people before…haven’t you?”

The clown feigned an apologetic expression and raised his hands as if to say “guilty.”

You nodded your head, a hopeful smile on your lips. And then, you asked him: “How would you like to kill my husband?” 🔪🩸🤍

@arts-bloody-gloves

[jeongin-lvr]

ྀི⑅ › ༚ ‹꒱ྀི˖ ─┈┈⠀ 𝗍𝗑𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗌 ．

𝖻𝗂𝗀 𝖼𝗈𝖼𝗄 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝖻，𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗆，𝖼𝗎𝗆 𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀，𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗃𝗈𝖻𝗌，𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗍𝗍𝗍 𝖾𝗑𝗁𝗂𝖻𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗂𝗌𝗆 𝗂𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗍，𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗉𝗅𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝖾𝗌，𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇，𝗌𝗈𝗆𝗇𝗈𝗉𝗁𝗂𝗅𝗂𝖺，𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖾 𝗎𝗌𝖾 ＆ 𝖼𝗇𝖼．

yeonjun who adores covering you face and tits with his thick ropes of cum. he thinks of it like art, decorating your face and swollen tits with his release, smearing it against your flushed cheeks just because he likes how degrading it is. when you give him head his hands are pulling so hard on your hair, wrapped around his palm in a makeshift bun, jerking your head up and down. and every time you suck him off it always ends with him face fucking you— he apologizes, he can’t help it. your throat feels so nice, the sight of tears brimming your eyes is just the cherry on top. he only gives you air to breathe when he’s cumming; he splatters all of him all over your flushed, disheveled face, panting with a dazed smile as it begins dripping down your chin and onto your plush tits. muttering about how pretty you are like this as his hands rub the load over your lips and chest.

soobin whos big cock stretches you out every night because he’s so addicted to your pussy. like, genuinely can’t get enough. he’ll switch between fucking you in a mating press to eating his own cum out of your lovely, fluttering hole. all the while you mewl his name sleepily because you’ve cum more times than you can count; he doesn’t care, though. he’s enraptured by your pussy. he takes his frustrations out on your holes, he pours all his love out while fucking you, he spells his name on your clit just because he wants to taste you one last time before heading to bed. by the end of the night you’re sore, aching thighs wrapped around his as he kisses you to make it better... though, that might get him hard again.

beomgyu who’s the type to fuck you in your childhood bedroom. your parents are home, and what was once an innocent dinner and night with beomgyu finally meeting your family was now evolving into the most delicious fuck of your life. the bed is squeaking as you frantically claw his shoulders, telling him to slow down, to be quiet. he mocks you so meanly, only raising your thighs onto his shoulders to get a deeper reach in your leaky pussy. maybe he’ll even stuff your face into the bedsheets to hide those slutty moans because you have zero self control; even better if he hands you your old plushie to moan into, stuffing your face into the soft fabric and crying tears of pleasure. beomgyu makes you cum once, twice, thrice all while your family is in the other room, whispering to you that you’re such a slut for doing this— for letting him do this to you. which you deny but a small part of you knew he was right, he knew it too.

taehyun who never sends dick pics. ever. well, maybe sometimes the urge consumes him so deeply and you’re not there to help fix his problem in his tightening pants. discarding them as he sits in front of a big mirror, aching cock flushed and flat against his stomach. its embarrassing but he takes the pic— multiple —and sends them to you, pretty body vulnerable and on display for you to see. your reply is always immediate, offering to call him and help him out. though it always ends up with you moaning his name too, fucking yourself on fingers that never felt as good as his. meanwhile, he’s working himself through orgasm number who knows what, begging you to keep moaning his name... maybe this was a bad idea...

huening kai having wet dreams about you way too often and waking up in the middle of the night needy out of his mind. he never knows what to do with himself, hard as a rock and desperate for some kind of relief. you’re right beside him, always so pretty, dead asleep and wearing your pretty night gowns. it’s really not even his fault as he starts grinding on your ass, bucking his hard bulge between your cheeks. hot breath oozing down your face, panting whimpers so soft as they fill your ears. you wouldn’t mind if he pulled your panties to the side and rested his cock between your folds right? puffy clit brushing over his leaky tip as his hips moved slowly. and when you wake up the next morning with cum sticking to your thighs you’re so confused, looking to kai for answers but he’s wayyyy too embarrassed, shyly avoiding your questions.

[lndsismaeverything]

Drunken moments

Lnds men gets a little drunk and spills away their feelings at the moment ( MC is already in a relationship with him )

An: here I am writing another fic even though I don't wanna ᕕ(˵•̀෴•́˵)ᕗ took me 3 days to write this ...

Not proof read sorry for mistake and grammar issue. And some words

Xavier

You and Xavier are having a home hotpot. Just a little celebration form todays mission. It was his idea to eat hotpot in the new hotpot restaurant . But when y'all got there it was to crowded and have to wait 2 hours for a table.

Xavier was disappointed to say the least . It was late at night ,almost 10 pm already and he was really craving hotpot

" Xavier why not have hotpot at home? We can buy the ingredients at the store plush it be a lot cheaper and more food" you said looking at his gloomy expression turn into bright smile

" yea, it would be just the two of us too "

The two of you bought the ingredients and headed straight to your apartment since you have all the equipment for the hotpot

No later did you pulled out the alcoholic peach drink you bought a few days ago that was sitting in the fridge, nothing is better then having a cool drink with hotpot on a chilly night

Xavier didn't usually drink but today was an exception and was worth it after defeating a wonderer

I don't know if Xavier can hold his liquor or not judging by his appearance he looks like he'll be knock out cold after a few glasses. Or he can hold it every well since she's been living for over 214yrs on earth now

But let's say he's weak to alcohol for now-

Xavier cheeks are dusted with a hue of pink he should stop drinking while he's still sober. But he can't because of the delicious hotpot u made goes so well which this nice refreshing alcoholic peach drink

After cleaning up the table with the help of your boyfriend you decided to settling on the sofa, to watch a some random comedy video

" Xavier I think u have enough to drink " you said to your boyfriend and grabbing the alcoholic drink and put it on the coffee table, which he protested but let it go

You lay on the sofa , switching from show to show not knowing that Xavier stared at you lovingly. The next moment Xavier lean toward you and kissed your cheeks

It caught you in surprised of the sudden affection of his just now " you look pretty bunbun " Xavier wrapped his arm around your waist and snuggled close

You just smile at him realizing he's a bit drunk but also a bit sober but not completely.

" thank you for the delicious hotpot " his voice so gentle yet soothing

" can we hotpot like this everytime? " he said looking up at you as you played with his soft fluffy hair

" yes of course " you replied, your hand cupped his cheek as you draw small circles.Letting go he plopped his head back on your thighs snuggling close and holding you tighter making you laugh as it tickles

" my honey is the best person in the universe. And not only is she strong, beautiful , kind, trustworthy , independent and a bit stubborn sometimes . She also an amazing cook and Baker."

"I love her so much , my little starlight "

"Your my brightes star in my univers. Beaming brightly when I miss you. Reminding me that I'm not alone "

with that Xavier fell asleep. You turn off the TV and join him holding him tight as he lay on too of you

Both of you woke up from the sofa with back pain.

Zayne

You and zayne just got out of the bar and headed straight home.

Of course zayne didn't drink but that didn't mean you didn't. It was a bummer that zayne didn't enjoyed the free cocktail that the hospital will pay later on . Congratulating zayne for having the title of the youngest doctor that maded it so far in his career as a cardiac surgeon.

The small part only included zayne colleagues and you .

Greyson try to convince zayne to at least have one glass or a beer but zayne refused saying " I'm responsible for taking y/n home "

After zayne dropped you off home you invited him over saying you got him a gift for him. Grabbing the gift from th kitchen table you handed to him and congratulated him on his achievement

He open the gift and it was chocolates

" may I ?" He asked you told him it's his and he could eat it now if he wanted. Knowing zayne sweet tooth he immediately devoured 3 of them while you get something to go along with the chocolate and-

You forget to tell him those aren't just any regular chocolates

" zayne-" your cut off by the sight of him, cheeks tinted pink hes already unwrapped his 4th chocolate already

" these chocolate... I never tasted something like his before..its quite unique ..it taste like Cherry's and grapes.." he popped the the chocolate in his mouth

You told zayne that these chocolate has wine infuse in them. That's why it's taste like grapes and a hit of cherry

each chocolate ball contains 13% alcohol and are meant to enjoy slowly with something salty like ham or cured meat

" how many did you have already? "

" this is my 4th one "

Thinking he has enough already for one night you take the box out of his hands and settled it on the table

You let your boyfriend stay for the night as he can't drive, having eaten a lot of chocolate

You dragged him to your bedroom as he's in a daze looking at you with such fondness. After his shower you have him some spare clothes he left you in case he's staying over

Zayne, siting on the edge of the bed watches you gently dry his hair. He hasn't spoken much since he ate the chocolates which made you a bit worried

" dear, is everything alright ? You seem at a daze, you haven't spoken much since you at the chocolates "

Zayne just pulled you on his lap and started giving you soft butterfly kisses on your face and neck before replying

" it's just that you seem so beautiful that I consider myself lucky to have met you "

"Your existing in my life is everything to me , I can't imagine my life without you by my side...''

"Your my the warmth to my heart, with you I experienced summer in snowy blizzard"

" you're like my precious flower that can survive. in the winter"

" also I want my flower to be careful and not hey hurt during mission . I don't want to see her coming to the hospital injured "

After sharing a moment with your beloved snowman both of you settled to bed , zayne spoons you closely in hin arms kissing the top of your head before whispering " goodnight "

Rafayel

Rafayel avoid drinking during his art exhibition. Especially when someone hands him some wine , wanting to toast him for his great success as young artists

Rafayel doesn't drink the wine as it might be spiked or something. But he except the glass and carefully examinen the wine before cheering with some business men and taking a sip

He's very careful with his surroundings, the moment he say you coming through he excuses himself to be with you

" you late miss body guard "

You apologize and explained that the wonderer you delt today took longer then you expected

" what's important now is that your here "

The art exhibition almost lasted for 4hours, you where by rafayel side the entire time as his request for making up to him for being late.

Rafayel having to meet a lot of people congratulate and toasting him for his newest work , grew more and more red as he takes sip after sip of his wine

Being by your boyfriend as he spoke with some important investors and buyers you noticed Rafayel getting less and less sober

Something wasn't right here, you felt uneasy why was there only wine served and not other drinks?

And the wine they give out isn't weak one either. You saw on the bottle it was 17% alcohol

Feeling worried you looked at Rafayel, you can feel Rafayel getting annoyed and wanted to leave as more people approach him and want to speak with him bout his art you decided its time to go

" let's us give you a toast, to our partner ship Mr. Rafayel ! " they raised there glass before Rafayel could take another sip you took his glass from him and-

" sorry gentlemens I'll drink on Rafayel behalf, he had enough for today " they understand and you leave with your boyfriend

You hold Rafayel hands the inter way out, Rafayel couldn't help but blush, admiring you as you took him away from those annoying people

You called Thomas telling him your taking Rafayel home as he's clearly getting drunk and it was probably someone plan wanting Rafayel to get drunk so they can write something about him and publishing it on the news.

Thomas understand and ended the art exhibition earlier then expected

You call a cab and headed to Rafayel house ( island )

You unluck his house and guide Rafayel inside

" you know what miss bodyguard , your the best bodyguard there is"

" without you my world would be full of black and greys "

" I miss you when your not around "

" I hate it when you keep me waiting "

" but I love it even when your late you try to make an effort to come see me and make it up to me "

" you're my special pearl from the deep sea"

You stayed with Rafayel for the night, the next morning thosmas blew up Rafayel phone asking him to check the news

The news about 'having a secret relationship with his bodyguard?' With a picture of the two of you holding has while waiting for a cab

Sylus

You don't even know how sylus got drunk or at least he looks like he's drunk . When you where at the bace you heard them coming back. So you decided to great them at the door and asked how it go

But you where met with sylus disheveled look like his been hit by a truck

" I'm going to my room don't bother me" sylus said passing through you

You ask luke and kierran about him as they just came from a business deal

You asked like and kieren if sylus drink got spiked . They laugh at you, you think the great leader of onychinus got his drink spiked and fell for it ?

It does sound ridiculous because you know he can handle his alcohol.

Like explain that sylus in hailed some gass that enemy planned , supposedly to make you weak and not able to think straight kinda like alcohol

" yea boss man got hit with ton of gass that's why he looks like that " kierran informed you

" don't worry boss won't go down that easily it will wear off in a couple of hours "

you headed straight to sylus bedroom to check on him but you go to the kitchen counter first to get two glasses of gin fiz that you prepared earlier

You don't know if it's a good idea or not but you already made them anyway

Holding two glass you couldn't knock on the door your about to call for sylus until the door open for you to come in

" didn't I say don't bother me?" stood beside his record player in a robe clearly stated he just got out of the shower

" but you still open the door for me " you settled the two glasses of gin fizz at the coffee table at taking as seat before turning to him

" I heard form like and kierran. How are you doing? Everything okay?"

He just sighed and pick up the glass and drinks it enjoying the refreshing drink before sitting next to you and shared about what happened

" have I ever told you when your with me on the meetings times goes faster? "

"But today was particularly slow bec you where to there so I told them to hurry it up as they where waisting my time. They didn't took that lightly so they grew a surprise attack "

" I was pleased as it turn out like that because I didn't needed them anyway "

" the moment the gass took a but affect on me on the ride to the bace my mind was occupied by you "

" I couldn't stop thinking about you "

" your laughter, your smile, you scent ,everything "

He finished his glass and looked at you, his eyes soft as he gently caress your cheek

" your everything to me..."

" without you I feel trapped in a cage , living out life without it's full potential"

"With you around, I like feel the chains around me being broken setting me free "

" you are my key to my cage..."

" my kitten, my sweetie, my miss hunter, my beloved...."

He's words are sweet and he ment everything he said but you couldnt help but tease him a bit

"Who are you and what have you don't to my sylus" you said you couldn't hold in your laugher .

Sylus just chuckled and shook his head .It was rare for sylus to be sharing his feelings and thoughts

" I wonder if it's the gun fizz fault or the gass you in heiled" you wonder tapping your chin

"Gues we'll never know the answer'' Sylus just took both your hand and gently lean in to kiss your lips

And took another

And another

And another

Before you giggle at him, removing you hand from his , you looped it around his neck before kissing him back

After you finish your glass sylus carried you to him bed , he wants to be sleeping next to you and waking up next you everyday and every night

He carefully lifted the blanket up and holds you tight before humming as soft tune that both of you fell asleep within minutes

[ceilidho]

shaking in my boots cause simon just thinking himself hard with jealousy at the thought of her being john’s, being WITH john before remedying that inside his head and fucking in her bed is straight uncut crystal meth ceil woah this freak would have the most violent wet dreams the first few weeks, john’s body slowly morphing into his in his mind till he’s convinced he knows how deep he can fuck her to tears whispering delicious filth(he can’t even touch her without breaking out into nervous hives, just lurks and glares) she can only cry for him from now on. oh I do love a delusional ghost yes yes mmmmhmmmmmmm

my original idea for Simon was that for the past few years, he's been harbouring an infatuation on the local barmaid, and I still really like that idea because I keep thinking of him sitting at the farthest table in the tavern, nursing a mug of beer while watching the barmaid from a distance, gaze unwavering the entire time. he just sits there with his drink and watches her during her shift, making sure no one fucks with her or tries to touch what he's subconsciously begun to think of as his.

but also there is something staggeringly hot about Simon fuming over the idea of another man calling her 'his wife' and making her come apart under his hands. he's loyal to a fault and reveres Price in a way that borders on filial, but when he thinks of Price's hands on his little barmaid, his fingers curl around the handle of the mug and the glass squeaks in his grip.

and when Simon finally does bring her to his bed, he can't help but fuck her as rough as he's been imagining since the first time he laid eyes on her. licks up her tears when they drip down her cheeks. paints her with his cum because he can only be sure that she's really his when her cheeks and lips have a pearlescent sheen to them and her nipples and bellybutton are coated with his seed.

[chocolatelard]

planning a small comic with a crazy idea 👀 hopefully i'll see it through to the end

[pipsyy]

detestable...

enemies to lovers dom!hamzah x f!reader

hi everyone! i have had the most absolutely terrible writer's block recently, which is why this fic has taken so long. but i hope you enjoy regardless! please send me reqs if you have them!

summary: y/n absolutely hates hamzah, detests him, actually. until one day, when that undeniable feeling of angers burns into an even hotter flame.

warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUTTY SMUTTING SMUT SMOT! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDER THE AGE OF 18.

word count: 3066

You loved your life. Your home, your animals, your friends, your youtube channel, everything. There was nothing about your life that irked you. Except for one thing. Him. Hamzah. You had become friends with Mandy over two years ago, over similar interests and styles of youtube channels, and had met Hamzah about six months into your friendship with her. You had never met somebody like him before. You got along with everyone, even if they slightly pissed you off, you were able to stomach their presence and create minimal amounts of respectable small talk. But not with Hamzah. In fact, when you were first invited over to Mandy’s house for a party and heard he was going to be there, you were excited. You had seen his online presence and thought he was funny, charming, and kind, only to find out upon meeting him that the complete opposite was the truth. He was awkward, and weird, and nothing at all like you thought he would be. The two of you were unable to mesh a single comfortable conversation together and, since then, you had effectively avoided him like the plague.

The angry tension between the two of you finally exploded one Friday night. You had been invited to dinner at Mandy’s house, and you were ecstatic. You imagined your night playing out with the two of you cooking and baking delicious food, sharing some with Martin in his man-cave, then diving into the delicacies in front of a cozy fall movie. What you did not expect was Hamzah to be there.

“Hey, y/n!” Mandy said excitedly, as she opened the door and welcomed you into her home. “Are you ready for tonight?”

“Oh my god,” you said, grasping her hands in yours. “You have no idea! I’ve been looking forward to it all day.” You took your shoes off before following the brunette into the kitchen. The two of you were laughing and talking until you stopped dead in the middle of the kitchen, starting out towards the living room. Two male heads were positioned together on the couch, one with straight, almost black, locks and the other with luscious, dark curls. You would recognize those curls anywhere. Shit.

You grabbed Mandy by her forearm and whispered in her ear, “I didn’t know he would be here.”

“Who?” she asked cluelessly, swiveling her head to where your wide-eyed gaze was fixated upon. “Oh, right…Hamzah. Martin and him filmed a video today and he’s not leaving until later. I’m so sorry, y/n. I really tried to get him out of the house, but he insisted on staying for dinner.” You knew that Hamzah liked to rile you up, he made it abundantly clear whenever the two of you would have a conversation.

“He just wants to piss me off,” you responded. “It’s okay. We can just ignore them and have fun.” Mandy smiled at you. The two of you began gathering items and ingredients from around the kitchen to make the dinner. You had decided on making fettuccine alfredo with broccoli and chicken over text with pumpkin cream cheese cupcakes for dessert. The two of you labored over the pasta for almost an hour, laughing and giggling over every single thing. The boys mainly kept to themselves, occasionally laughing softly at the game they were playing on the TV. You paused from stirring the cheesy sauce, simmering softly in the pan.

“You can go ahead and combine this sauce with the pasta, Mandy,” you said, nudging the brunette girl with your elbow. “I’m going to head to the bathroom real quick.” You went to the bathroom down the hall and completed your business, flushing the toilet and washing your hands. As you exited the bathroom, you ran right into a pair of broad, muscular shoulders. You look up, an apology bubbling from your lips, until you meet a pair of wide, dark eyes: Hamzah. His eyes narrow and his brow furrows. Your lips curl into a sneer, the close proximity of him causing hot, red anger to flare in your chest. The two of you attempt to get around each other, moving in sync. This annoying act continued until Hamzah’s large hands grip your waist and practically lifted you up, moving you out of his way. He continued down the hallway to the guest room without looking back, leaving you stunned into silence in the middle of the hallway. Your waist tingled lightly where his hands had touched you. The way his large hands were able to almost completely engulf your waist, followed by how effortlessly he had lifted you, caused inappropriate, unwanted thoughts to flow through your mind. You shook your head, internally scolding yourself for your rash behavior. When you reunited with Mandy in the kitchen, she gave you a confused look.

“You okay?” she asked. No doubt your silent demeanor and red face giving away some of your internal embarrassment.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you responded, unconvincingly.

“You sure?” she pressed. “I saw Hamzah leave and I just thought–”

“Yes!” you snapped, cutting her off. “I am perfectly fine.” You ran a hand through your hair and Mandy laughed, shaking her head at your idiocy.

“If you say so, girl.” The night continued smoothly once you had calmed yourself down from your strained interaction with Hamzah. The pasta was cheesy and delicious, followed by the brownies which were sweet and rich with chocolate. Mandy shared the brownies with the two boys, Martin full of compliments and praise for the two of you, while Hamzah enjoyed his in silence, glancing at you every so often with a wide-eyed stare that made you feel both uncomfortable and anxious. Throughout the night, Martin and Mandy exchanged coy looks, giggling under their breath at something that seemed to you like an inside joke, but you were unsure. Finally, you reached your breaking point, and blurted out your confusion at the couple’s strange attitude.

“What the hell are you two plotting?” you asked. The couple exchanged a knowing look, smirking at each other.

“Plotting?” Mandy repeated. “We’re not plotting anything.”

“I know you are,” you said. 

To your utter surprise, Hamzah chimed in in agreement. “Yeah,” he said, mouth full of brownie. “You’re both acting so weird. What’s going on?”

Mandy gave Martin another weird look, the two nodding at each other in joint agreement. “Well…” Mandy said. “There’s this movie that Martin and I have been dying to see and it comes out today. We’re going to leave to see it now.”

“And we know that the two of you have some unsettled differences,” Martin chimed in. “So while we go out to see this movie, the two of you are going to stay here and figure them out.”

“Are you serious, Mandy?” you said, exasperation at this situation obvious in your voice. You glanced at Hamzah who had undeniable shock plastered all over his face. “No…” you said, as the couple began to pack up their things and pull their shoes on in quick succession. “No, no, you’re not doing this.”

“We’ll just leave the house, Martin,” Hamzah said.

“We’re locking the two of you in,” the brunette replied. “You’re not getting out this easy. The way you two absolutely despise each other pisses us off. So, you’re both not leaving until you have established some sort of mutual camaraderie or something like it. Understand?” You and Hamzah stood up from the table in protest, but it was too late, Mandy and Martin left the house in sync, locking the door from the outside. The two of you were trapped, together and alone, for an uncomfortable, inestimable amount of hours. You let out a sigh of pure frustration, understanding that the following couple of hours were going to be the most uncomfortable and angry you had felt in a while.

“Well, shit,” Hamzah said, sitting back down and folding his arms across his broad chest.

You rolled your eyes. “This is fucking ridiculous,” you said. “There’s no way I’m doing this.” You get up and pace the wooden floor, head lowered as you think of all the ways you could escape Hamzah and his brown-eyed gaze that you could feel following your every move.

“Oh, come on,” he said, standing up from his seat. He moved in front of you, blocking your path, looking down at you with a facetious smirk that boiled your blood. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, trust me,” you said, maneuvering around the larger man. “It can and it is.” Hamzah reached out, fast as lightning, and grabbed your forearm. The slight touch sent undeniable shivers down your spine, which you hated. He turned you around to face him, the two of you inches from one another. You gazed down at his hand, still wrapped around your forearm.

“Am I really that detestable to you, y/n?” he asked, voice at a decibel so low you had to crane your ears to even hear him. The inches between the two of you began closing, his eyes—so brown they looked black—drawing you closer. Dark, seductive images flitted through your mind: Hamzah’s large hands gripping your waist, his lips on your neck, hands fisting your hair, gripping your throat, touching your cunt. Shocked, you wretch your forearm out of his grasp.

“Yes,” you breathed out, chest heaving, mind reeling from your stupid imagination and wandering mind. “You are that detestable.”

“Really?” Hamzah asked, voice no louder than a whisper. You realized as your back hit the wall that he had backed you into a both physical and mental corner. You gulped as he drew closer and closer. “Because—I think—you like to think of me as something more than just detestable.”

“I don’t like to think of you at all, Hamzah,” you said, skin burning as his dark eyes remained locked on yours, unyielding in their direct gaze.

“You don’t?” he said, scoffing. He leaned closer, lips practically brushing yours. His large hands maneuver to grip your waist, and you don’t even try to stop him. “Not at all, huh. Not even at night, when you’re alone in your bed.” His grip on your waist tightened and shockwaves of undeniable pleasure flash through your spine like needles. “Cause I do. All the fucking time.” You look up at him, eyes widened in shock. He curses, the grip on your waist tightening so hard you thought it would bruise. “Don’t,” he said, voice rough and gravely. “Don’t fucking look at me like that…or I’m going to do something we both will regret.”

You had never expected to feel this way about Hamzah. But seeing him—a man so stupid and narcissistic and haughty—reduced to this…reduced to a quivering mess of a man with needy desperation written all over him, you felt that you couldn’t help yourself. You whimpered as your core tightened. Your back brushed the wall and Hamzah leaned impossibly closer, chest brushing against your own.

“Tell me,” he said. “Tell me you don’t want this.” You froze, the repeated words brushing your lips, bubbling up inside you. But you couldn’t lie. You couldn’t say them. For deep down inside you, in a place you had buried since you got to know him, lay the dirty, red-hot truth. You wanted him too, equally as bad. Your shaking hands, puppeteered not by your brain, but by that stupid feeling deep in your heart, reached up to intertwine behind Hamzah’s neck, grasping at the delicate curls at his nape. Hamzah’s eyes widened at the realization that you weren’t backing away.

“I can’t,” you confessed. Hamzah, lips quivering with desire, leaned closer, brushing your soft and plush mouth with his own. Unable to contain your palpitating desire, you tightened your grip on his curls and pulled him into you, pressing your lips violently together. Your lips locked together, a wet mess of tongue and spit as you desperately clung to each other. Hamzah’s hands ran up and down your body, unsure of what part of you he wanted to touch first, desperate for everything, all at once. He separated from your lips, and you let out a needy, unfiltered whine at the lack of contact. Hamzah began kissing down your neck, suckling on that sweet spot behind your ear that made you cry out in pleasure.

“You have no idea,” he whispered, in between open-mouthed kisses planted on your neck. “You have no fucking idea what you do to me.” You whimpered at the blunt confession, hands yanking at his curls. His hands grabbed at your ass, lifting you up effortlessly as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Hamzah roughly pushed you up against the wall, lips connecting with your own again. You yanked at his t-shirt and he paused his motions, pulling it over his head and throwing it somewhere in the room. You came face-to-face with his body, ribbed and muscular from his time in the gym, while also maintaining enough tummy to make your thighs squeeze together. You mirror his movements, pulling your tanktop off and shucking your sweats down your legs, leaving you in your bra and underwear. Hamzah looks at you starstruck.

“Holy shit,” he whispered, reaching to grasp at your covered tits. “You’re even prettier than I imagined.” You giggled slightly, a gesture that never occurred to you would happen with Hamzah. Hamzah sunk down to his knees, leaving little kisses along your stomach and the underside of your tits. Kissing and biting your inner thighs, he dragged your underwear down your legs, mouth agape as you came face-to-face with your soaking cunt. He looked up at you with wide eyes, pupils dilated, and you felt your knees weaken. Hamzah grabbed one of your thighs after the other, wrapping your legs around his shoulders practically sitting on him, leaning against the wall. He continued to leave little kisses along your legs, suckling purple bruises onto your inner thighs.

“Hamzah–” you whine, tightening your grip in his curls.

“Use your words, y/n,” he said, looking up at you through his thick eyelashes.

“I need you,” you say, your desperation overwhelming your embarrassment and confusion. Hamzah smirked up at you, before shoving his head deep between your thighs. He licked a long strip up your folds, holding eye contact with you, before circling his tongue around your clit. As his tongue connected with your sensitive bud, you let out a long moan, head tilting back against the wall. Hamzah ate you out like it was his last meal, licking, sucking, and slurping your juices in a constant state of desperation for more. You felt yourself coming closer and closer to your climax, hands tightening his hair as his nose rubbed deep into your clit. You came with a cry, legs shaking around his head as you shuddered and convulsed, white spots bedazzling your vision.

Hamzah lifted you up, wrapping your legs back around his waist and kissed you, mouth stained with your juices. You tasted yourself on his tongue and moaned at the feel of his tongue poking its way into your mouth.

“God, you’re so fucking sexy,” he whispered. “You have no idea how bad I wanted you.”

“Hamzah—” you panted. “I need you inside of me.” He reached down into his pants, pulling out his hard member, stroking it a few times before rubbing it up and down your wet folds. He slid into you with a gasp, the two of you moaning at the feel of him sheathed inside of you. He began slowly thrusting in and out of you, the stretch of his thick cock inside your cunt drawing whimpers from deep in your throat. While your eyes rolled back into your head from the pleasure, Hamzah never broke eye contact.

“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” he said. “You hate me, huh?”

You whimper in response.

“Yeah, you hate me…but you’re still here, being fucked by this cock, huh?” You couldn’t respond, the only sound flowing from you being heady whines and high-pitched moans. You felt yourself inching closer towards another release, one of your hands reaching between your legs to rub your clit. One of Hamzah’s hands wrapped around your throat, squeezing slightly, you realized with a jolt that he was holding you up with one hand. The fact that this man could hold you up and fuck you so good with just the strength of one arm made your core tighten.

“I–I’m gonna cum, Hamzah,” you manage to cry out, dangerously tipping on the precipice of release.

“Oh, yeah?” Hamzah responded breathlessly. “You gonna cum, baby? Shit. Cum for me, pretty girl.” You cum with a strangled yelp falling from your lips. 

“Good girl,” Hamzah moaned out, hips beginning to stutter. “Good girl, so pretty, so fucking pretty for me.” Your hands grabbed onto his curls tightly, yanking as you came down from your high. The feel of his dark strands being pulled so tightly sent Hamzah over the edge. Hips stuttering as he came, head buried deep into your neck, he let out a flurry of whimpers and praises. The two of you sat there for a minute, Hamzah breathing heavily into your neck. Just then, you heard the jangle and clank of keys outside of the door. Hamzah’s eyes locked onto yours, wide with shock and fear.

“Shit,” you say. Untangling your limbs, the two of you rushed to dress in five seconds flat. You threw yourselves onto the couch, sitting on opposite ends just as Mandy and Martin opened the door and returned.

“The cinema was closed, guys,” Martin announced as he took off his coat and boots, Mandy close behind him. “Did you at least make up though?”

“Yeah, we did,” Hamzah responded, voice still rough and breathless. The couple finally came into your view, cheeks and ears red from the outside wind. You knew that the two of you were a strange sight: clothes rumpled, cheeks flushed with embarrassment and something dirtier. You also knew that, ever the observer, it would be Mandy to notice.

“Oh my god!” she said, covering her shocked face with a hand. “OH MY GOD, MARTIN!” She yanked on his sleeve, jumping up and down.

“What?!” he asked. “I don’t get it.”

“They fucked, holy shit, they fucked,” she laughed and giggled, jumping up and down with glee. “You owe me a hundred dollars, Martin.”

[neopolart]

Hello! I loved the SMAU you did with the boys, my heart is weak for drama/angst, and the Xavier part? Delicious

So, i read your rules but if my ask makes you uncomfortable i absolutely understand!! Can you do pegging with Xavier and Zayne? The only contents i found with pegging had just Rafayel and Sylus 😭

Pegging - Scenario Love and Deepspace

Warnings : Sexual themes.

Genre : Smut

Characters : Zayne and Xavier

Gender : Female.

Word count : 2k

Notes : Hello!! I am absolutely happy to know you liked my writing!!! Angst with comfort are my favorite genres, ngl. Thank you so much for your request and your kind words, i hope you like it too!! I assumed the MC would be female, but if is not please let me know!!

Growing up, Zayne knew you had strange ideas or tendecies.

After knowing you for so long, how could he not ? From your strange jokes that only you laugh, to the pointless questions that only made him sigh in exasperation. Yet, nothing really prepared him from your request after his long shift at the hospital.

'You know,' he hears you mumbling. He was changing clothes, his muscles sore and screaming in pain after the emergency surgery he had to undergo. 'I know this may be the worst moment to bring this up, since you are very tired and definitely need to sleep, but...' Your hands help him to take off his coat, your hands squeezing the sore muscles on his shoulder 'You always said i could always speak to ou about anything, especially if involves a new kink..."

He turns his head to look at you from the corner of his eye, his eyebrow arching slightly, waiting for you to continue.

'I wanna peg you'

'...Peg me?'

'You know what pegging means, right?

'I am familiar with the term, yes. I know it took a lot of courage for you to bring this up, and i promise i wont forget this subject, but can we talk about this tomorrow?'

'Of course, im sorry, i was so anxious to talk about that-'

After that, he had his very needed night of sleep and brought up the conversation again in the next day. It was merely to talk about where the idea came from, precautions and safety, after all, he was never the one to deny your requests without even trying before - especially if that involved a new kink.

'Talking from a point of view of a doctor, i would need a few days to prepare myself for that' he stated, his back turned towards you as he focus on washing the dishes 'Just as it can be pleasurable, it can also be extremely painful without proper preparation. '

And that is how he found himself on this situation. After he spend days using his own finger to stretch himself, he was now laying on his back with his legs draped overyour hips. There was a thin layer of sweat on his naked body, his cock completely hard and dripping precum on your hand.

"You look so beautiful right now..." You say, stroking his shaft slowly and with a firm pressure.

The strap-on you were using was slim, pink silicone with not more than five inches, enough to give him pleasure without causing any harm, and was covered with lube. His body was completely relaxed and, as soon as he nod to you, you finally press the tip against the tight ring of muscles, carefully to not hurt him. Thankfully the preparations he had done to himself had maken easy for you to fill him, his face, always so composed and neutral, writhing slightly in a mix of pleasure and pain, his body tensing up. You only stopped when the entire lenght of the dildo were inside of him.

When he finally relaxed completely, you started to move. His sweet grunts of pleasure echoing in the room, your skin slapping against his as you start to fuck him, trying to remember how he used to fuck you against the matress.

"Come on pretty boy" you whisper, your breath hot against the crook of his neck, his body shaking from the movements. Never before you wished so bad to have a cock, imagining how warm and tight he would be around you. "I need to hear your sweet sounds, to know how good i am making you feel"

He whimpered softly, feeling your breasts sliding in his chest with every movement you make, your hand on his cock making his brain tingle with hot, raw pleasure. Is that how you felt when he was fucking you? That burning feeling of pleasure that barely fits in your body? He could feel every inch rubbing against his interior, hitting perfectly his prostate.

"P-Please..." his voice was shy, trembling as he tried to compose himself, trying not to fall apart from how good it was.

You kissed a trail from his jaw line til his collarbone, sucking his skin until a purple mark appeared, your hand stroking his shaft even faster, completely wet with the pearly liquid of his precum. He was falling apart faster than before as you whispered praises on his ear, his moans and whines now leaving his lips as a second nature for him, his arms wraping against your neck and pulling you closelly, capturing your lips against his own and kissing you desperately, the wet sound of your lips mixing with his moans and slapping sounds. Would you receive noise complaints from neighbors? Definitely.

As his moans and grunts grew louder against your lips, you put a lot more effort, ignoring the burning sensation on your muscles, your hand stroking his cock fervently. Pulling apart from the kiss, you watch how the silicone dildo fucked his way inside Zayne, his puckered hole stretched around the toy, almostr trying to pull you more deeper inside of him.

It only took you a few more thrusts till he finally came with a deep and hoarse moan, the whitish and viscous liquid wetting your hand, some splashing on his stomach, painting it white. You milked his cock with a few more pumps until nothing else comes out, his glans red and his cock wet with cum.

You pulled out of him, throwing the strap-on away. Quickly you cleaned up your own slick from your tights and the cum from his stomach before laying on his side, chuckling as he wraped his arms around you, hiding his face on your neck.

"Did you enjoy it?" You asked curiously, your fingers stroke his hair carefully.

"...Maybe we can try it a few more times, if im not required on the hospital." You grin listening to his hoarse voice, knowing that it was the aftermath of the pleasure he received.

"Do your legs feel limp and wobbly?"

"Yes." he whispered, his ears turning red with embarassment.

It wasn't a secret for Xavier that you always had a liking for his ass.

When he bended over to pick up something, change clothes, take a shower or even with his sweatpants, you eyes always seems to roam or your hands found a way to squeeze him, so, when you told him you wanted to peg him, it wasnt a surprise at all.

'Xav' you started, laying next to him on the couch, your legs resting on top of his thighs 'I realized we never really talked about our kinks and things we liked on the bed'

'Hm, what is the motivation all of the sudden?' he asked, his voice soft as always.

'So, i was scrolling through my phone and i found something very interesting--'

'Yes i'll let you peg me'

'Its something called pegging and-- excuse me?'

'I knew you could end up liking this kind of thing, so i jumped ahead and read about that. Already bought the toys and prepared myself.'

'H-How did you even know?' he smiles lazily as you tries to hide your face in embarassment. How could he know? Weren't you being careful?

'With how much you make jokes about eating me out or breeding me' he chuckles with your whine 'It was obvious how you felt' he stared at you lovingly. 'That and the porn site on your unlocked cell phone with the tag pegging showing on the search bar-'

And when you asked oficially, he said yes again. After all, who he was to deny such a sweet request from his beloved? Yet, it didnt help with how anxious he felt when the time come.

He was on his stomach, his ass up to your direction. His breath became a little more faster as he felt your weight on the matress, right behind him. That is how you felt the first time you two sleept together? This knot on your stomach?. Your hands roamed around his body, carresing the curve of his abdomen and chest, your touch tender and kindy, easing the tension from his muscles.

"Are you nervous?" you ask, kissing his back softly, seeing his eyes darting around nervously. "It's not too late to refuse, you know? We can take a good shower, eat a few snacks and sleep"

"N-No!" He said quickly before taking a deep breath "I want this, i promise.

He looks at you from the corner of his eye, half his face hidden against the pillow. His eyes burned with desire, showing how needy he was at that moment. Your gaze searched a sign of hesitation or disconfort in his face before you give him a reassuring smile, positioning yourself behind him while pouring lube on the strap-on and massaging the circunference of the silicone until it is completely wet, pressing the tip against his hole. Your hands roam his body, caressing the warm skin before stopping on his ass, squeezing the plump flesh of his cheeks, watching his once white skin turning red before you spread them, exposing his puckered hole before you pressed the tipagainst him, watching as the dildo force his way inside him, stretching him to fit its entire lenght.

You pay attention to his body and, as soon as he relaxes, you hold his waist with one hand and the other goes under him, starting to stroke his hard cock as your hips begin to move, the dildo going in and out of him.

His back arched as soon as you hit his prostate and, unable to control himself anymore, his hips started to move, meeting your with fierce, his face contorting against the pillow and muffled moans leaving his parted lips.

You kissed his back, your breasts pressing agains his hot skin and thumb pessing his glans, feeling how wet it was from his precum. You started to suck his back and shoulders, leaving a few marks behind, making the man under you to whimper softly. You wanted him to look in the mirror and remember how you fucked him so good. You wish you could leave marks on his neck as well, but unfortunately you didn't want the attention of the Association staff.

The noises were growing louder each moment, his back arching even more with how good it felt, being fucked mercilessly, the pleasure numbing his mind, everything he could think was how deep you were inside of him, his body shaking with how hard you were hitting his prostate, his cock pulsing against your hand, hard and wet, begging for release. He tried to bite the pillow to muffle his moans, but your whine on his ear quickly made him stop.

"Such a good boy f'me" you praised him, your breath hot against his shoulder, his skin covered in sweat "My precious bunny, aren't you?"

"F-For you ngh" his voice was hoarse from all the moans and cries of pleasure, his eyes glowing with tears "so good aah"

The sensation of the silicone pressing his sensitive walls combined with your strokes on his hard shaft threatened to send him over the edge earlier then he wanted to, his stomach tensing and twisting, urging him to let go. The tears ran down his face, some falling on the pillow and mixing with his drool.

Your fingers dig into his waist, bruising his flesh with your nails. After a few thrusts you feel his body shake, a hoarse growl leaving his lips and your hand getting sticky when he finally cums, his eyes completely rolled back in ecstasy. You thrusted inside him slowly, milking him to the last drop during his post orgasmic wave. When he finaly calmed dow, you kissed his spine softly, watching proudly the amount of hickeys you left on his body. You pulled out of him, quickly cleaning his body and bringing him a cold glass of water to cool down his sore throat.

"That was fun, we should do it again another time" Your words sent shivers down his spine, his gaze turned to you, a small smile forming on his face.

"Yeah... We should"

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

I have literally read all you stories and im so so impressed. Im not sure if your taking requests or if. If not than im very sorry. If yes then could you please write one where a modern doctor ends up being reborn as a Nobel princess who is about to marry king baldwin. She could then cure him.

♧ A Better Life - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: HELLO FRIENDS!!! I am back officially now!! Exams are over and the school year is done! I am so exited to be back!! Anon thank you so much for this beautiful request. This took me so long and I really hope you like it!!! This was an amazing one to return with, I hope yall enjoy it!!. As always this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy, Slight mention of blood

Y/n remembered little to nothing from that night.

Simply getting into her car late, well after the sun had set, and driving. Then the lights. Then the crash. Everything else was fuzzy. Even in her life before the crash, the only knowledge she seemed to remember was what she had learnt in medical school all those years ago.

Nothing about her beautiful rooftop apartment where she lived alone. And certainly not the crippling loneliness she dreaded returning to every night after work at the hospital.

------------------------------

Y/n’s eyes flew open and she sat up with a gasp, clutching at her pounding heart. After a few seconds of panic, she looked up at her surroundings.

There was no car, no wreckage, no blood.

Just a plush, white sheeted, four poster bed that held her trembling form. The curtains that hung around the top of the bed shrouded her view of the rest of the room, but from what she could see, an open balcony window allowed sun to shine through and into the large, beautifully decorated stone room.

Confusion soon replaced fear in the young doctor's mind. Was she in a hospital? No, it wasn't sterile enough to be a hospital. There was no beeping of machines, no bustling nurses. Something she was all too familiar with.

She tried to think back to what had happened, but all she could remember was the crash. Nothing else. Y/n pulled back the covers and cautiously stepped out of the bed. She barely got one foot on the ground before the large, wooden doors opened to reveal young woman carrying a tray with an assortment of dishes that y/n had never seen in her life.

“Good morning my lady” the young woman said with a smile, approaching y/n’s bedside.

“Good morning,” the doctor replied, trying to hide the confusion in her voice.

“I hope you are excited for today my lady, everybody in the maids chamber surely is!” the young woman said, her bright eyes practically glowing.

“I'm- excited for what?” y/n replied cautiously.

“Well your wedding of course, everybody has been anticipating this day for months now! Our kingdom will finally have a queen!” she was grinning now, y/n couldn't help but smile despite her confusion.

“Oh- yes! How could I have forgotten” the doctor said, once again attempting to hide the fact she had no idea where she was.

After the maid had left, y/n inspected the food. It looked delicious but eating was the last thing on her mind, for now. She slipped out of the bed to take a look around the room. There were books stacked on a shelf, a desk, a face washing basin and lots and lots of religious imagery, painted in typical pre-renaissance fashion.

Judging by the beautiful stone walls, she was most definitely not in the twenty-first century anymore. Nothing was boring and white. No white walls, no white marble countertops. Everything was handmade. Genuine. It was certainly a changeup from the old routine.

You see, y/n was intelligent. She always had been and on top of this, her years as a surgeon had taught her to act reasonable, calm, and logical even in the most outlandish situations.

Waking up in a different time period after a car wreck was no different.

She had to think of a plan.

“It's morning, people should be expecting me somewhere soon”. Turning to the bookshelf, y/n picked up a book and opened it. Handwritten. In Hebrew.

“That should place me somewhere in Israel, perhaps Jerusalem” she thought.

“And it's definitely before the renaissance, but after the birth of Christ”.

Placing the book back on the shelf, y/n continued to think. She had to figure out where she was and fast.

Y/n turned her attention to the other side of the room. The bed, a couch, and the open balcony doors. Approaching the balcony, y/n looked outside inspecting the area around the building she was in.

Knights. Many knights.

“Medieval “ was the first word that came to mind.

“That should place me somewhere around the 12th century-” was the last thing her mind concluded before the wooden doors opened again.

Six maids came into the room, each carrying something different. Some carried jewelry, some hairbrushes and combs, and others beautiful white fabric that appeared to be some kind of dress.

“Oh my lady, you have barely touched your breakfast!” one of them exclaimed as y/n entered the room from the balcony.

“You will need your strength for today!”

“Oh I'm terribly sorry, I forgot all about it! I was just getting some fresh air, I'm a little nervous” y/n said as calmly as she could, praying that they didn't notice something was off.

“That's alright dear” the oldest of the maids said, “it doesn't matter now because we need to get you dressed! Come, sit” she gestured to a vanity mirror and chair that y/n hadn't even noticed. 

--------------------------------

It felt like hours that the doctor sat in that chair, as the maids worked tirelessly on her hair and face. Braiding and brushing, applying makeup and finally helping her into the beautiful white dress robes.

They fit perfectly, just like a glove. As if they were made for just her and her alone.

“You look immaculate, your majesty,” one of the maids said, taking a step back to admire their future queen. Y/n smiled, for a moment forgetting her predicament.

It felt as though she had lived in this world her entire life.

“Come now darling, we don't want to keep the guests waiting!” the oldest maid said, taking the doctor's hand and leading her towards the door. Y/n followed blindly.

“This should be interesting,” she muttered.

-------------------------------

It was a short walk from her chambers to the church. There were already plenty of people waiting inside. Y/n barely had any time to think before a bouquet of flowers were shoved into her hands and she was walking down the aisle, people standing left and right staring at her.

Taking a deep breath, y/n steadied her hands and continued walking at a slow, measured pace.

“Come on y/n, this has to be the least nerve racking thing you've done all week”.

Looking up, she could see her “future husband” standing at the end of the aisle. It was strange, she couldn't see his face, he was wearing white robes and a veil that shrouded his features almost entirely. But from what she could see, it appeared he was wearing some kind of mask.

Then it all connected.

Not only had y/n taken a myriad of science and math subjects in highschool, she had also taken an ancient history class. One unit had specifically focused on the “Leper King of Jerusalem, Baldwin IV”. This must have been him.

As she approached the end of the aisle, her mind wandered to a patient she had treated with severe leprosy, contracted while he was on a tropical holiday. She remembered how much pain he had been in and her heart broke thinking about this poor king who had gone untreated for so long.

She was only snapped out of her thoughts when she came face to face with her soon to be husband. His eyes met hers and what she thought would have been a neutral feeling (since she did not yet know this man at all) turned quickly to a feeling that she had not experienced in what felt like years.

Love.

The doctor's heart skipped a beat looking into those eyes. Those beautiful, blue eyes. The mask he wore was polished to perfection, the metal was perfectly shaped into sculpted, masculine features.

He was beautiful.

Y/n was far too focused on just how captivating the man who stood before her was to pay any attention to whatever the priest was saying, until once again she was snapped out of thought by the large crowd cheering as they were pronounced husband and wife, in the name of the Lord.

-------------------------------

Later on, the guests had left and all had returned to somewhat calm after a day of celebration. Y/n was slightly shy at first during the celebrations, doing everything in her power to read the room and understand her place in this new world. But after a while, she began to enjoy herself.

Her “husband” had barely spoken a word all day, but she had caught him looking at her as she talked with his sister and associates. She was told by a few maids that after getting changed from her wedding attire, she would go and meet privately with her new husband.

She was nervous, but not even half as nervous as somebody else was...

Baldwin paced up and down his chambers until his legs were in agony. The day had been strenuous on his body and the pacing did not help.

The young king slumped down on his couch, cursing his frail body. He had watched her all day, his wonderful y/n. So full of life, so intelegent, speaking with everyone and enjoying her time while all he could do was sit and watch.

Oh how he had wished to join her, to dance with her, to speak with her, to hear every word her beautiful voice had to say, to look into her eyes. Those perfect eyes.

He hoped that she knew just how much he had fallen for her, even though they had not spoken a single word all day.

He cursed the mask that shrouded his emotions, forcing him to look cold and stern when all he wanted was her to know how warmly and deeply he felt for her. Baldwin sunk deeper into the couch cushions. His body craved sleep, craved a break from the pain. But he couldn't. He had to see her right this instant.

Taking a deep breath, or as deep as his failing lungs could take, the young king sat up and stared down into his hands, anticipating the moment y/n knocked on his door.

He did not have to wait long because no more than a minute after he sat up, a small knock came from the wooden door. Baldwin got to his feet, perhaps too fast. He steadied himself and called for her to enter. Y/n pushed open the door. She looked as beautiful as she did in her wedding dress.

“Good evening your majesty” she said with a graceful curtsey.

“Hello” he replied, suddenly feeling incredibly shy.

Y/n smiled. He was truly adorable. He looked so soft and warm in those robes. Good lord what was she thinking? She had barely met this man and yet she was acting like a teenager in love!

“Would you like to take a seat?” he offered, his voice gentle and kind. “Of course,” she replied. The two sat in silence for a moment. But it was not an awkward silence, more of a comfortable silence as the young couple took each other in.

It wasn't long before they got to talking. Two intelligent, young minds in the same room were bound to connect almost instantly. And that's just what they did.

Y/n tried to not say anything about her “world of the future”. That was until they were brought to the topic of his disease.

“So, you have no issue in being wed to a leper?” Baldwin had asked, his voice growing sad. Her heart broke for him in an instant, remembering how terribly people with his disease were treated at this time.

“Of course I don't” the doctor replied.

Her kind voice soothed something deep inside Baldwin. Something untouched for so many years. His eyes burned with tears but he dare not  let one fall.

“Really?” he asked, his voice breaking slightly.

“Of course! All I see is a beautiful, young man with a bright future. And from what I've heard, you're a wonderful ruler, and I know you will be a wonderful husband too”.

Baldwin smiled beneath the mask. He hoped she could see the smile through his eyes. Y/n took a deep breath before her next choice of words.

“You know, where I come from, lepers can be healed,” she said softly. Baldwin’s eyes widened.

“Truely?” he said in disbelief.

“Yes, but you can not tell anyone”

“I won't, of course! Please, share this with me” the young king said in a hushed voice taking her hands in his.

“Alright. I'm going to need a few things to do it and it may take a while-”

“Please, y/n. I'll do anything” Baldwin was on the verge of tears now. “Now I have you, I have a reason to live. I need to live, please” he begged.

Y/n’s heart sank as his previously strong demeanor shattered into a thousand pieces before her very eyes. As gently as she could, y/n wrapped her arms around her husband, pulling him into a gentle yet firm hug.

At that moment, the young doctor understood why all of this had happened. She was brought here for a reason. To cure this poor young man, to show him the love he deserves and to have a better life by his side.

“I promise Baldwin, I’ll make you well again. No matter what it takes. I'll do it”

[cyb-by-lang]

just realized that I missed a few fun snippets the last few days by way of not being on tumblr much, so binge reading time!! (I will eat your writing regardless of time (5am) because it is delicious and thank you so much for the shell game 1A au :D)

Ha, I'll probably end up compiling them on AO3 eventually, so no need to worry too much about missing out.

I may as well take this opportunity to outline a couple of changes that haven't really been covered/won't be covered because this is meant to be somewhat fast and loose.

Izuku doesn't experience the same level of "oh god a girl is talking to me?!" with Kei as he did with Ochako because Kei showed up at the training field in her gym uniform without stopping by the classroom first.

All Might does not confess to the whole Skinny Might situation after the USJ incident.

Kei doesn't meet Hitoshi outside of school because he doesn't take the initiative to talk to 1-A students. She has no idea who he is until the lead-up to the Sports Festival.

Because Kei has less time/freedom in 1-A, she and her team run fewer scouting missions and don't get the assignment to track Stain until after they run across an already-injured Ingenium.

Kei's "Quirk" as written includes a note about her eye color changing when she's angry or tired. It fuels yet more rumors that she's somehow related to Aizawa.

Tsuyu is the one who gets to meet Hayate first, while taking her siblings on a group trip to the store. (Seeing them interact helps calm Tsuyu's discomfort with Kei after witnessing the USJ Nomu get its head imploded.)

Kei is aggressively befriended by the 1-A girls. Her first commiseration about her costume came from Toru, who later takes Kei's suggestion to somehow incorporate her hair into the materials for her next costume and avoid that whole "invisible streaker" problem.

"I saw it on the internet" is now Kei's go-to explanation for where she gets her ideas to use the physical properties of water with such intense, violent creativity.

[singsweetmelodies]

🐶

OF COURSE YOU DID ksjdhdjdjjddjd 😂😂 ilysm!!

right, well... the 🐶 fic is exactly what you think it is. it's about that time pierre posted 🐶 on main, and everyone (including charles in this fic) lost their minds about it. in fact, the working summary of the fic is "the one where Charles pines, Pierre posts 🐶, and things spiral completely out of control."

this one is in my WIPs folder because it's one of the selected prizes for my 100 AO3 subscribers celebration thing - which i have NOT forgotten about, i promise, and i WILL get to the prizes someday 🥹 writing has just been terrible lately, i'm afraid. but as soon as i get my writing mojo back: i'm going to be ON IT, especially this one 🙏❤️

[hoodiemanic]

Modern au Laios&Kabru going somewhere (don’t ask where. Maybe they have both signed up for a cooking competition out of town)

Don’t judge him. He’s been dropping hints for months.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[phoenixcatch7]

It's always funny to me when in an lu fic the chain is offered bananas and don't accept them. Like, you're offering these high energy adventures free food?? Fruit they'll have never even heard of before??? A ridiculously expensive imported good at best?? AND it boosts your attack?

Not ONE of these idiots would ever turn down something new and interesting to eat at least once. They'd be all over those bananas and immediately get dubbed yiga and I'm honestly surprised no one has used it in a fic yet 🤭

[cynicalundead]

reading the dunmeshi manga really makes u realize how inherently awful the perspective on ryoko kui's world building is in anime only fans. like if youre a fan of the anime and wanna have a well rounded and functionally accurate view of this work I really recommend swallowing ur pride and reading the manga, it gives a lot of perspective that's missed in anime form. at least in my opinion/experience (genuine)

[dysaniium]

Marcille in da froggy chair in her froggy suit