#and to write fun silly smuts

[bougiebutchbinch]

shamelessly rereading fist in the air and hopping back aboard the hughtrain train.... I need them to want each other carnally and kinda hate themselves for it

[secretlysimpash]

Shifter AU König, but he’s not what you expected. 

Seeing a mountain like König, you would fully expect something terrifying. Something absolutely fitting for his 6-foot-fucking infinity height and his skillset. So in a world full of shifters, its only fitting that he’d be a bear…Or a lion, or just…Anything big and intimidating. 

So imagine your surprise when you have to go to his office for something, you need to ask about an upcoming mission…And sitting on top of König’s desk is just

this absolute creature

"Miau."

[rubiehart]

bsf!jj would literally pull your tampon out if it ever got stuck

i’m giggling imaging this cuz it’s so silly. he’s the only person at the chateau and you’re fucking panicking so you go into him like got a little problem need your help… and he’s all ears obviouslyyy!! until ur leant over the sink legs spread apart, bottom half completely bare whilst jj stands behind you… spreading ur cheeks to get a good look at it.. tutting when he sees that it’s literally jammed, he’s also turned on BEYOND belief cuz he can see your pussy clenching around nothing in the cold bathroom. “can you see it?” you ask, shuffling a little on your socked feet.

“uh, yeah. ‘s pretty jammed, i gotta say.” he sniffs, readjusting his hands on you to keep you spread, youre leaning your forearms on the cold sink as you hear him cough awkwardly. “i mean.. i could probably get it.. just gotta get up there.. can i?” he’s asks and you just nod, involuntarily clenching as you mutter out a “yeah.” he eventually gets it out, not mentioning how you were leaking on his hand the whole time.. pulling your panties back up and giving him a fistbump. “thanks dude.” and it’s just never mentioned again??

[propertyofkylar]

crawls in covered in blood

Harper 19 👀?

doctor's orders - m!harper x gn!pc

tags/warnings: 19. kidnapping, drugging, dubcon, medical kink, reader's genitalia left ambiguous

word count: 1810

note: wow....i hope THE harperfucker enjoys this...

“Mhm. And how has your mood been lately?”

You shifted slightly in your chair, sitting on your hands. Dr. Harper was a strange one. He was something of a therapist and psychiatrist. But he also treated injuries, and you had heard he’d even done gynecology work, so you still weren’t entirely sure what kind of doctor he even was. But the pills he prescribed worked well, so you came every Friday to see him. 

“Um,” you hedged a bit, but Harper’s encouraging smile urged you forward. “I mean, it’s not great. You know? Things kinda…suck.”

Harper nodded as you spoke, looking the perfect image of a doctor as he jotted down something on his notepad.  

“So I guess I’ve just been kind of…down. If that makes sense?” You offered. 

Harper nodded again. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Huh?” You hadn’t expected that. Harper offered you a warm smile. 

“I’m experimenting with more herbal remedies,” he explained. “I’ve purchased some tea leaves that claim to help with feelings of depression and anxiety. I thought you might like to try some. I know you like the pills, so this would just be a supplement of sorts. It may help lift your mood, even just a bit.”

Something made you feel a little uneasy. But your doctor had never steered you wrong before. And it was just a cup of herbal tea. What’s the worst thing that could happen? It would taste bad?

So, you nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”

Harper gave you another smile and stood up, busying himself with an electric kettle in the corner of the room. You watched idly from your seat. Maybe a warm cup of tea would be exactly what you needed. 

Several minutes later, Harper handed you a steaming mug. An herbal smell of chamomile, lavender, and something else you didn’t recognize wafted towards you. “If you like it, I’ll send it home with you along with your meds.”

You thanked the doctor and took a sip. It was warm with a mildly sweet taste. “It’s good,” you said, going back in for another sip. 

“I’m glad you like it,” Harper said. 

At the very least, a warm drink would make you feel better temporarily. The doctor made idle chitchat with you as you continued drinking. By the time you had emptied the mug, though, your head was feeling a little fuzzy. 

“Are you alright?” Harper asked, only seeming mildly concerned. “The herb blend does have a relaxing effect. It may be that it’s making you tired. 

“Mm…yeah…” you rubbed your eyes, suddenly feeling groggy. “Haven’t been sleeping well lately…”

“Don’t worry,” Harper was leaning forward in his chair, almost in anticipation. “Close your eyes. My next appointment isn’t for a while. You can sleep here for a bit, no worries.”

“‘Kay,” you murmured, your eyes shutting of their own accord. “Just a lil bit…”

You were out like a light. 

When you came to, you had no idea where you were. 

It didn’t feel like you were still in the hospital, though it still seemed like a doctor’s office of sorts. But the light was harsh and artificial, and you got the feeling this room wasn’t used too often. 

Also, your arms were bound to the bed, which wasn’t great. 

“Mm?” You were still quite groggy, so actual words didn’t come out of your mouth. You suddenly became aware of a figure looming over you, smiling. “D-doctor…?”

Harper undid your arm bindings, inviting you to sit up. “Sorry for that! I didn’t want you to move around or get violent in your sleep. The…tea effects are a little unpredictable.”

You rubbed at your sore wrists - how long had you been like this? - as you took in the surroundings. “Where did you take me?”

Harper rolled a chair next to the bed, stroking your hair in a rather unprofessional manner. “This is my private office. You need a more intensive therapy.”

You blinked. “I do?”

Harper nodded. “Yes. Your depression and anxiety is rather treatment resistant. I want to try some different things with you to help you get better,” he slid his hands to hold yours. They were cold and smooth. “Doesn’t that sound good?”

There was something wrong. Something was off. But your brain felt so, so fuzzy. “Yeah…that sounds nice.”

Harper beamed and clapped his hands together. “Excellent! Now, let’s begin,” he pulled his notepad out and studied it closely. “You say you’ve experienced rape and sexual assault. Is this right?” 

You shifted uncomfortably. “Uh…yeah.”

He nodded again and checked something off on the notepad. “Good. Then we are going to have sex.”

“What?!” Your ears were ringing. Did he just say that?

Harper set down the notepad and looked closely at you. “You say the assaults cause you trauma. Correct? I can show you how sex can be pleasurable and it will sort of rewire your brain.” He smiled placidly at you. “Don’t worry, you can trust me.”

It was weird. Something felt off. But…you trusted him. So you found yourself agreeing.

“Good!” Harper smiled warmly at you, standing up in front of you. Despite the smile, there was something oddly intimidating about him. But he was a doctor, and you weren’t. So it was probably okay. Right? 

The doctor sat next to you on the bed, moving closer then he’d ever been. “The first step is foreplay. This usually begins with kissing. Are you comfortable with that?” His breath was warm on your face. You nodded. 

And then the two of you were kissing, Harper’s mouth surprisingly cold, much like his hands were. “Very good,” he murmured. Harper practically tugged you into his lap and your patient gown rode up, making you suddenly very aware that there was nothing on underneath. Wait, weren’t you in a therapy session before? Where did your clothes go…?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you realized you could feel Harper’s cock rubbing against your most sensitive areas. The feeling drew a whimper out of you, which sparked Harper to reach under the gown and grab at your back. 

“P-please,” you whined, grinding down on Harper. 

But he did not relent. “Please what?” He asked. “You need to be specific.”

“Please…” you sucked in a deep breath. “Please, fuck me.”

“Very good,” Harper pulled away and beamed. “You’re a very good patient. You learn quickly.”

He reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a small tube. As he squeezed the slimy fluid onto his fingers, you realized what it was - lube. “This may be cold,” Harper said before slipping two fingers into your hole. You bit down on your lip and groaned as the doctor scissored his fingers inside of you. It felt good, but it also felt methodical and practiced.

You pawed at the bulge in Harper’s pants, which he was not expecting judging by his sharp intake of breath. “T-that’s enough,” he stammered, momentarily losing his cool composure. “I think you’re ready now.”

Harper pulled his hand back and unzipped his pants. With one movement he tugged down his pants and boxers and you were suddenly staring directly at his thick cock. It was flushed and twitching, and the bead of precum on the tip gave you the sudden urge to lick it. 

But that wasn’t what was going to happen, at least not today, as Harper was stroking his dick with additional lube, and the way he was looking at you - no, leering - was decidedly unprofessional. You were too far gone at that point, though. The only thought in your head was how badly you needed that cock inside of you.

Your doctor grabbed you by the hips and, ever-so-slowly, lowered you down onto his cock. Harper practically hissed as you sunk further and further onto him, until your hips were flush with his. 

“V-very good,” Harper managed to get out, his face turning red. This was an act you were quite familiar with, and your instincts kicked in. You started moving up and down, Harper’s hands still gripping you tightly, and he began rocking his hips in unison.

Harper seemed practiced in every aspect, with his cock managing to hit every sensitive spot inside of you. He was consistent, too. Every thrust was almost rhythmic. It made the hospital bed creak and squeak, and if you weren’t almost entirely fucked out of your mind, you would’ve worried about its stability. But all you could focus on was riding Harper and how fucking amazing it felt. Maybe it was that tea you had, or maybe your doctor was just that good at fucking.

His grip on your hips only added to the pleasure and you quickly began feeling heat intensifying within you.

“I think,” you tried to start but were cut off by your own moan. “I’m gonna…” 

“Cum,” Harper said plainly, though clearly struggling to stay calm. “You can cum. It’ll - haa - be good for you and your…fffucking treatment.”

You didn’t need Harper to tell you twice, his hips slamming into you. You grabbed onto his shoulders and cried out as the orgasm wracked your entire body. You squeezed your eyes shut, but when you opened them, you noticed Harper was staring intently at you. It felt as though he was staring into your soul.

After several more thrusts, you could tell Harper was about to hit his limit as well. Never easing up on his grip, Harper held you down as he came, filling your insides with his hot cum. The two of you stayed connected for a few moments before he gently pulled you off, you letting out a whine at the loss of contact. Harper quietly studied his cum leaking out of your hole and dripping down your leg, then jotted down a few more notes in his notebook. You wondered what he was writing.

“Well,” Harper smiled at you, straightening his clothes out. “You did a great job. You’re a fast learner. I hope that was pleasurable.”

You could only nod in response.

“However,” Harper looked down at his notebook with a slight frown. “I’m afraid you still have a long way to go. This is only the beginning. I’ll need to keep you here at least for a few more days for further studying and treatment.”

“Oh…” you mumbled. In your post-orgasmic state, you struggled to understand what was going on. But maybe a longer stay wouldn’t be so bad.

Harper stood up, clutching his notebook to his chest, and gave you a few soft pats on the head. “No worries. I’ve already communicated with your guardian and school, so everything will be just fine.” He gave you another grin, one that felt a little less genuine, and made you feel a little uneasy. “Trust me. There is no better place for you to be right now than right here.”

And with that, he left the room.

[wreckedandpolemic]

nsfw alphabet - white and gold!matty x reader

(mdni) this au has taken over my brain so you can all have a little a lot of filth. as a treat. white and gold isn't required reading but it's recommended. 3856 words.

warnings (mentions of): dom/sub dynamics, praise, cumplay, breeding kink, masturbation, drug use, oral (f and m receiving), unprotected sex, spanking, exhibitionism, overstimulation

a - aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

god he’s the sweetest. he’s obsessed with you, absolutely worships you every time you finish. if it’s been particularly rough, he’ll be even sweeter, kissing all over your body; gentle touches as he cleans you up; lots of reassurances. he overflows with good girl’s and did so well for me’s and so, so perfect’s.

his favourite thing, though, is putting you in his clothes after. especially early on, before you have a drawer or any clothes at his place, it’s pretty routine for you to fall asleep in one of his shirts, and the sight of you drives him crazy every time.

b - body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his (and your) favourite part of him is his chest. he works fucking hard to look like that, and you’re quickly learning how hard. he tries his best not to wake you when he gets up at the actual asscrack of dawn to go for a run or to the gym, but he’s almost never successful. catching him coming back from the gym, though, is always a fucking treat, drenched with sweat and panting as you practically rip his clothes off. and he’s a vain little fucker who loves attention, so even in winter he’ll just turn the heat up and go shirtless, gratuitously flexing so you can ogle the muscles of his chest, his defined v-line, the trail of hair that licks down into his waistband. you leave bruises there whenever you get the chance <3

cliche as it sounds, matty loves your tits. he’ll buy you new bras just to rip them off you and bury his face between your tits. every time you fuck, he pays them special attention, kissing and licking and sucking and biting until you’re a soaking wet mess under his hands. one day he swears he’ll make you cum just from that.

c - cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

oh that man has the biggest breeding kink. he’s kind of insane for it actually. he’ll cum inside you every chance he gets, fucking beg for you to let him. “please, baby,” he’s practically whining. “wanna cum in your pretty cunt. need it. wanna stuff you full, make you mine forever.” you can never resist him, locking your legs around his waist and holding him in place as he spills deep inside you.

the sight of you with his cum dripping down your thighs drives him crazy, never mind watching you collect it on your fingers and clean it up with your mouth. he always wants to finger it back into you, kissing the oversensitive whines out of your mouth and muttering about how he’s “gonna fuck a baby into you, yeah? gotta get it all, okay? make sure it takes.”

d - dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

he’ll never give back that pair of panties you slipped him at the dinner. entirely distracted, he’d forgotten all about them until you went home the next day and he went to throw his clothes in the laundry and found the scrap of lace in his pocket. for some reason, he can’t bring himself to put them in the wash, leaving them crumpled on the dresser and sitting at the back of his mind when he takes you out for lunch. when he gets home, the scent of your perfume and the red of your lipstick lingering on him, he stares at them for minutes, trying to convince himself that he’s not a horny teenager anymore and he shouldn’t.

then he remembers the look on your face when you handed them to him, remembers your dress sliding to the floor and leaving you naked and dripping wet for him, and his control breaks. the lace scrapes harshly against his tender skin as he pumps himself furiously, and he cums embarrassingly quick with your name on his lips.

e - experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

oh, he knows. and he’ll never stop reminding you. he loves hearing you moan how good he is, how he’s the best you’ve ever had (“‘m the best you’ll ever have,” he corrects), how he’s ruined you for other men. any time you want to try something new, he’ll talk you through it all sweet and gentle; “s’okay, baby. daddy’s gonna take good care of you, promise. such a good, sweet girl for me.”

if he ever even catches wind of a time you’ve had bad or even unsatisfying sex, he’ll take it upon himself to replace the memory, disparaging all the ‘pathetic boys’ you’ve fucked before him. he’s obscenely jealous, adoring your assurances that you’re his girl, that nobody else could ever compare. sometimes, he’ll ask whether you’ve ever tried something, just so he can “show you how it should really feel,” if you have and be your first if you haven’t.

g - goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they more humorous? etc.)

one thing you do teach him is how not to take himself so seriously every time you have sex. “doesn’t have to be so intense all the time,” you tease. “it’s okay if you laugh sometimes. m’not gonna turn to stone.” he doesn’t really take it on board until the first time you get high with him. by now, you have a key to his place, letting yourself in in the early hours of a sunday morning, having come home for a friend’s birthday. he’s on the sofa, lit spliff dangling from his lips, and he practically jumps out of his skin seeing you. a little tipsy, you climb over the sofa and snatch it from him, pulling deeply before he can even react.

both of you stoned, he’s more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him, free from the tension that strings him tight in his day-to-day. you climb into his lap, kissing him messily between giggles and grinding your hips down against him. when you fuck, it’s slow, indulgent, both of you laughing breathlessly as you fumble out of your clothes, matty’s fingers tangled up in your hair. later, you tell him it might be your favourite memory of the two of you. when he asks why, you shrug. “i dunno. like seeing you laugh when we’re like that. don’t always need it to be such an event, you know?”

h - hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

gonna be real something about this question squicks me out i think it’s the phrase ‘does the carpet match the drapes’ like that is gross

i will say that he could not fucking care less whether you’re shaved. the first time he catches you unawares, surprising you with a visit to your uni flat, you stutter an embarrassed apology. he stops you with a glare, muttering about how “only pathetic boys care about that. pathetic boys who don’t deserve to look at you, don’t deserve to even think about your pretty cunt.” then he has you sit on his face still in your short skirt and shows you exactly how little he cares <3

i - intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect.)

you wouldn’t have guessed it, but he really is quite a romantic. he loves fucking you missionary, watching your face as you take him, pure adoration in his eyes. he’ll never stop murmuring how beautiful you are, how lucky he is to have you, how you’re made for each other, thick, heady pulses of heat and desire and something more washing over you every time.

the first time you fuck after saying i love you, he uses the words every chance he gets: between breathy, wet kisses; against your skin as he traces his tongue down your body; tracing the words with a finger while he fucks you. when he dips his head between your legs, you can feel him spelling the words with his tongue in your cunt, helpless moans falling from your lips as you roll your hips wildly against his mouth.

j - jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he’s away a lot, always on some important business trip or other, and it drives you mental. somehow, it’s impossible to find more than a few snatched days where you’re back from uni and he’s in your city. so he spends a lot of nights in hotel beds with a hand around his cock and thoughts of you circling his mind. the first time you catch him in the act, it’s an accident — you’re only calling because you miss him, but the low pitch of his voice and his soft groan when you say his name give him away quickly.

“are you getting off, daddy?” his quiet moan is enough of a yes. “are you thinking of me?”

“always think of you, princess.” his words send a bolt of heat straight to your core. knowing you’re the object of his fantasies, the only object, turns you on beyond belief. “wish i could have you right now. need my girl all spread out for me, need to make her feel so fucking good.”

your hand has already found its way into your panties, wetness pooling against your fingers. “what would you do to me if i was there?”

k - kink (one or more of their kinks)

oh, it’s a long list. he introduces you to almost everything; you trust him to keep you safe through it all, so you’ll try anything once. somno, cumplay, bondage, edging and breeding feature most frequently, sometimes all at once, you flush to think of. more than anything, though, he loves being your daddy, practically blacking out the first time you use the word.

and then there’s corruption. corruption corruption corruption! he fucking loves reminding you about your age gap, loves moaning how you’re such a good girl letting a dirty old man ruin you. you love to tease him with it, playing up your innocence with wide eyes and pouting lips.

or the time he spanked you with a belt, bent over his desk after hours at the office. but that’s a story for another day…

l - location (favourite place to do the do)

despite your complaints about adventure, he’ll always love having you in his bed the best. he’s so possessive, nothing compares to seeing you naked and breathless and soaked against his sheets. he’ll spend long moments just watching you like that, committing the sight perfectly to memory before he makes you his over and over again.

m - motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

everything you do turns him on, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t adore you making yourself at home at his place. being a homemaker is in your nature, and it drives him wild to come home and see you cooking or cleaning for him.

the only thing missing, he thinks, is a ring sparkling on your finger and his last name joining your first. he tells you as much when he bends you over the kitchen table, rucking your skirt up around your hips and filling you in one stroke. “god, look so good actin’ like my little housewife, princess. can’t wait to come home to you every single fuckin’ day.” he punctuates the last words with deep, hard thrusts. “‘m never lettin’ you go, angel. gonna marry you, make you mine forever.” you can’t hold back a moan as you nod furiously. “you like that? yeah? c’mon, mrs. healy, cum for me.”

n - no (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

he’d never share you, so a threesome is off the table. he’s too obsessed with you, too possessive over you, the idea of watching someone else put their hands on you frankly horrifying. you bring it up once, more for curiosity’s sake, a somewhat stereotypical college experience you’ve never had, and he shoots it down immediately. “don’t wanna let anyone else touch you. they don’t deserve it.” he says, a little sullen that you’d even consider it.

“what about another girl?” you suggest, wondering if, like so many men, the fantasy has crossed his mind.

“don’t care about other girls,” he answers without hesitation. “you’re the only girl i want or need. forever, yeah?” he squeezes your hand, and you can’t really argue with that, can you?

o - oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

as much as he loves seeing you on your knees with your lips stretched around his cock, his favourite place to be is between your thighs. you’ve never dated a man who liked to give oral before, but matty actively gets off on it, moaning into your cunt as he fucking devours you. it’s his favourite way to wake you, pleasure pooling at the base of your spine while you’re still hazy with sleep.

“couldn’t resist,” he murmurs from under the blanket, pressing kisses to the insides of your thighs as you squirm. “looked so fuckin’ pretty, and you taste so sweet. can’t get enough of this pussy, angel.”

p - pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he likes it rough because you like it rough. the man fucking lives to make you happy, any way he can. any way he can make you a drooling mess on his cock. as much as he protests about being “too old for this, darling,” he’ll fuck you anywhere if you beg pretty enough, holding you up against the wall and rutting wildly against you, sometimes with a hand over your mouth to muffle your noises.

when you do go slow, it’s intense. he’ll tease you with it, stuffing you full and just keeping you there, belly coiled tight as you clench and squirm, urging him to fucking move. slow, languid strokes, gentle touches over the most sensitive parts of your body, your legs shaking as you plead and whine. “so impatient,” he tuts. “don’t you trust me, baby? i’ll get you there.”

q - quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he’ll almost never initiate them. he’d rather tease, get you desperate and needy and spend his time taking you apart. you’re better than a quick, quiet fuck in a grotty little bathroom to him. you see it differently, more into the instant gratification of pulling him aside in secret. he’s more amenable to it while you’re still a secret, those snatched moments sometimes your only chances to be with him.

you’ll never stop trying, though, teasing him until he’s groaning that you’re “such a needy little slut. can’t even wait ‘til we get home, hm? need me to bend you over in public, make sure everyone knows what a dirty girl you are?” you’ll stumble back into the party, sated and so dazed you're seeing stars, and squirm at his cum pooling in your underwear and the knowledge that he’s going to punish you for being a brat later.

r - risk ( are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

like i said, the pair of you will try anything once. temperature play? blindfolding? anal? check, check, check. at the start, you’re a little shy about it, murmuring about how you “saw this thing i think i wanna try.” generally, though, you’re the risk-taker, crawling under his desk before an important meeting and doing everything you can to make him lose control with your mouth.

“such a dirty girl,” he murmurs when you’re finally left alone. “what would people think, knowing my pretty girlfriend’s down there drooling around my dick, hm? my little exhibitionist, bet you’re dripping thinkin’ about everyone finding out what a slut you are for me.” he forces you back onto your knees under the desk at a light tap on the door. “can stay down there and keep me warm ‘til i’m done, yeah?” matty smirks, and you shudder as you obey.

“come on in.”

s - stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

even though you love to tease him about being old, sometimes you struggle to keep up with him. matty devotes himself to making you cum at least twice almost every time he gets you off, whether with his fingers, his mouth or his cock.

you’re almost in awe of how long he can give oral; your jaw aches for hours after giving a blowjob, but he’ll pin your hips down and bury his tongue inside you for what feels like eternity. you’ve lost track of how many times you’ve cum at this point, floating freely in a sea of bliss as sensation wracks every limb. “doin’ so good, princess,” matty says, lips and chin absolutely soaked in you. “can you take one more?”

“can’t. s’too much, daddy, please!”

he only laughs. “yes, you can. be a good girl for daddy, yeah? gonna take as many as i want you to, okay?” you moan. “words, angel.”

“can take it, daddy,” you whine, every nerve in your body on fire. “‘m your good girl. do whatever you want,” you slur.

“that’s right,” matty murmurs, dipping his head back between your legs, his tongue sending heat pulsing under your skin. “whatever i want.”

t - toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

he loves spoiling you to an almost ridiculous degree. nearly every time he goes away, a tastefully-wrapped little box finds its way to your doorstep. you tease him with pictures and videos of you using them while he’s gone, attaching a message that it’s still not as good as you :(

when he comes home, he’ll use them on you, edging you for hours with intense vibrations on your clit and dragging it over your body while you squirm and plead, tears pooling in your eyes.

one day, you find that his interest in toys doesn’t stop at you. there’s a shoebox tucked innocuously under his bed that you open curiously, flushing ruby-woo-red at the contents. “found something earlier, daddy,” you murmur against his lips, your skirt splayed out over his lap as you make out lazily at the edge of the bed.

matty chuckles. “what’d you find, princess?”

wordlessly, you tug the box out and set it on the bed next to you. he swallows thickly, not meeting your eyes. “do you use all of this stuff, daddy?”

“i- i used to,” he stammers, nervous in a way you’ve never seen him.

“did they make you feel good?” he nods. “can i use them on you?” shuddering, he nods again, and you resist the urge to clap your hands. “oh, this is gonna be so much fun. what do you wanna try first?”

u - unfair (how much they like to tease)

so much. he’s practically evil. he’s better at controlling himself than you, able to torture you in public for hours on end without so much as displacing a hair.

his fingers rub circles into your thigh, inching closer and closer to where you need them as you press up against him. “daddy, please don’t tease,” you whisper as loud as you dare.

he clicks his tongue. “be patient, baby. good girls get what they want,” he promises, running a finger over the lace between your legs.

you’re a desperate, needy mess by the time he finally touches you, the contact electric and buzzing under your skin. “was patient, daddy,” you whine. “please.”

v - volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

another reason he doesn’t so much go for quickies —- you learn fast that he’s very vocal, liberal with praise that falls fluidly from his lips. you wish you could bottle up the sound of his moans, play it on loop like a favourite record. your favourite sounds, though, are the ones he makes unconsciously, when he’s dreaming of you. he’ll murmur your name, hips grinding against your ass, quiet moans and sounds you could only describe as whimpers spilling from his lips. you wake him up with your cunt stretched around his cock nearly every time.

w - wild card (a random headcanon)

it doesn’t come out very often, but he has a submissive side. the first time you find it, you’re spread out on his tongue, moaning how good he is, how amazing you feel as you cum against his mouth. “did i do good?” he asks, eyes shining. it’s a sentiment you know well, and the power of having it directed at you is heady.

“so good, daddy,” you murmur, scratching your nails over his scalp in reward and savouring the way he shudders under your touch. something about using the epithet as he melts under your hands is intoxicating. he’s patient, still, even as his body hums with nervous energy. “you needy, daddy? want me to take care of you?” you tease, pushing him down on the bed and straddling him. “don’t worry,” you say, slowly lowering yourself down on him. “i learned from the best.”

x - x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

there’s no polite way to say it; he’s fucking huge. your eyes roll back in your head when he fills you completely, cunt stretched around him. you giggle with your friends, spilling stories of your adventures, of screaming orgasms and being so sore you can barely walk, to their whines of jealousy.

besides that, though, he looks like he’s been sculpted by the fucking gods, all marble skin and defined muscle wrapped up in designer suits. he knows his tattoos drive you crazy, too, grinning as you kiss and lick at them when you’re working your way down his body.

y - yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

so high. he’s like a horny teenager. he wants you all the fucking time, every little thing you do driving him wild. you giggle and joke about how eager he is, “for a man your age,” and he pinches your ass for being cheeky. it works out great, though, because you want him all the time. most of the time, you fuck until he’s satisfied, and you love being made to take it, being a little toy for him.

z - zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

he’s a worrier, you notice pretty quickly. he’ll always make sure you’re okay, fussing sweetly over you as your eyes close and you cuddle into him. sometimes you’ll wake up to him tossing and turning, still wide awake. “are you okay, matty?”

he smiles softly. “‘m fine, angel. go back to sleep. sorry i woke you.”

“not if you can’t sleep,” you pout. “always sleep so good next to you. not fair if you don’t get that,” you frown, kissing softly at the corners of his mouth.

“such a sweet girl,” he murmurs fondly. “think a brew might help, if you’re up for it?” you take his hand and let him lead you into the kitchen, sitting at the table with a hot chocolate (tea, blech). the pair of you talk long into the night, and it becomes something of a habit when he struggles getting to sleep.

[miss-celestia13]

I Think He Knows

The woollens have been put away, time for Jon and Dany to brave another chaotic season ❤️

This is my late participation in @snowxstormworld JonerysSummerLovin event. A continuation of my winter themed story, Wool to Brave the Seasons. It’s very silly 🤭 Summary/snippet is below 🥰

She drew in a deep breath. The sharp, briny air and salt laced breeze flirted with her loose hair as Jon’s arms wound around her from behind and he rested his chin on her shoulder. She leaned back into him and waited. Any second now...

“You two are in the master upstairs. I deliberately chose the room on the opposite side of the house. If I hear one sigh or noise, I’ll tell mother about the time you broke her favorite necklace and blamed it on my poor pup,” Viserys said in his outside voice and Dany stifled a snort as she and Jon turned to face him.

“Your prissy little dog is always eating her things when you visit. Who do you think she’ll believe, you or me?”

A romance forged in winter never withers as Jon and Dany vacation in a land of summer and sand. Grappling with the heat and an obnoxious Viserys, they reach a delicate realization that they're exactly where they're supposed to be—part two to Wool to Brave the Seasons.

[sk4rlette8008]

Don’t be a Dick

Ok, just imagine this.

You bought James along to a family party, nothing inparticular just some family members who don’t come round often come around, and you have a get together.

James is still struggling with his drinking, and he gets drunk, but not enough to not remember it in the morning. He starts acting really cocky and acting like an actual dick.

You pull him away into somewhere quieter, maybe an empty bedroom or in the garden, trying to talk with him calmly.

“C’mon sweetheart, S’boring out here.” He tries feeling you up, pulling you into him by your hips; normal for him when he’s drunk, he gets all lovey-dovey. But, you’re sick of being calm and speaking softly.

“James Hetfield get the fuck off.” you say firmly, grabbing his wrists and digging your nails in. He looked down at you in confusion, tilting his head. “Sit down,”

“Baby-”

“Sit.” He sits on the small brick wall, looking up at you, a small amount of annoyance in his eyes, but mostly confusion in his glazed-over eyes.

“I don’t know why you’re acting like this, James, but you’re going to stop right now.”

“Like what? I-”

“Like a dick, most of my family are here, and you’re making the shittest first impression for my cousins.”

“M’not acting like a dick.”

“James, you were fucking showing off-” He stands up and scoffs, acting like a spoilt child.

“What, I can’t tell people-”

“James-”

“About-” You push him back to where he was and slap his cheek lightly, getting his attention.

“You do not speak to my family like that, or talk about how much money you make, and you definitely do not speak to me like that. We’re in a relationship, you don’t treat me like that.” You confirmed, eyes narrowed and your finger still pointed at him. He looked shocked, surprised you had spoken to him like that. Such firmness. It sobered him up a little.

He nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

“Are you going to act like a dick when we get back in there?”

“No.”

“Good.” You readjusted your bag on your shoulder and straightened your back, going to walk back inside.

He called your name softly, standing up. “I’m sorry, sweetness. I don’t know why i acted like that.” he apologised, looking at the ground.

“I don’t mind when you’re showing me off, just don’t act like that again, please.” You turned around and walked closer to him, letting him wrap his arms around you in a bear hug. “M’sorry, baby. Won’t do it again.” he slurred slightly, kissing the crown of your head.

Eventually, you two go back in, he apologises to the members of your family he acted like a dick to, and thankfully, they took it quite well and accepted his drunk apology, seeing the sincerity in his glossy eyes.

… And because one-third of your family watched the scene through the window. Hearing and seeing you putting him in his place.

I need a bear hug from James.

[star--anon]

when you're a thominho person but you also like thominally but you also like minewt but you also like minresa but you also like thominewt but you also like minally but you also like

[hsr-writing]

Hello! Hope you are doing well and getting some well needed rest after Kink-tober writing! Just re-read your aphrodisiac entry for the challenge, again (idk how many time it has been now, i just adore how you write Ratio)! I look forward to what else you write for him in the future <3

thank you<33333 :')

i'm super busy this month which is really hampering my ability to write as much as i want to, but! i have another Ratio thing in the works ;)

[romaritimeharbor]

the voices….. the voices are telling me to write for demon slayer……… so many ideas…… older brother!tengen taking care of the only sibling he has left…….. hcs of being the tsugoku of all the hashira……. reader having silly little adventures with tanjirou & zenitsu & inosuke & nezuko…… angst with shinobu & a childhood friend turned demon….. too many ideas AUGH

it's me, i'm the voices 🤭 oooooo you want to write for kny so bad oooooooo /j /lh

[merakiui]

azul has that single dad on vacation vibe nailed to a T in that new card and i’m going insane. i will be his wifey so he never again has to be a single dad on vacation

He's literally this:

But it's okay because he makes it look so good. orz I will also be his wifey so that when he has his next vacation trip he won't be alone. <3 anything to make dilf Azul happy hehe!!! >:3c

[tethered-heartstrings]

maybe if I start now I'll finish a christmas hannigram fic by christmas

[sugaurora]

Dream Come True (Teaser??)

Uhhhh....COMING Soon?

Since your brother warned you years ago that his best friend Seokjin was off limits, you’d only allowed yourself to fantasize about him in the safety your dreams. You’re not sure why tonight his lips feel so much softer and his hands so much warmer than usual, but you’re definitely not about to complain.

Pairing: Med Student Seokjin x Plus Size Female Reader

Genre: Brother’s Best Friend; Friends to Lovers; Smut

[cloudburst-ink]

🌈 Free the gays from weird heteronormative top/bottom discourse 2k24!!! 🖤 (And by extension, the dom/sub associations that go with it!! Which are also a completely separate though sometimes overlapping concept!!!)

Write your violent angry murder blorbo getting railed!! Make that sweet shy angel baby a top! Make them both verse and throw the concept out altogether because it’s inherently a bit silly to start with!! ✨ And your personality in the rest of your life often has nothing to do with your bedroom preferences anyway! ✨

Or don’t! Do whatever you want because it’s fanfiction! 🥰✨ Write them with whatever dynamics or lack thereof that you want—that’s the point! And no one can tell you what is and isn’t okay to write in your own fics!! 🎊 They're fictional characters, have fun!!!!!

Happy new year fellow fandom gays!!! Go wild!

[inkwingsinc]

Chapter 20 live! Join the party here.

It's all masochism and bloodkink. I mean it. Be warned.

So it's kind of funny. There are only two (maybe three) things in the chapter that will be important for the overall plot of the story, but ultimately it's just erotica (poorly written by my measure because hey, I write horror not smut). It's also the only reason BMGWMBGG exists. It was the first chapter I wrote, actually (and I had to edit it heavily to fit it into the story just right).

I can't believe it was supposed to be chapter 6 if I had stuck with my original story outline. I also can't believe I strapped myself in to write 100k words just to get to it - talk about taking the long way home.

[optiwashere]

Random thoughts create silly fics.

This fic is all my own mind poison because I thought, "what about her birthdays?" one time. First morn days in the Forgotten Realms have the kinds of celebrations you'd expect, but for someone who was a Sharran most of her life?

Rating: G

Category: F/F

Ship: Shadowheart/Trans Fem Tav

Summary:

While still recovering in Baldur's Gate, Shadowheart nearly forgets to tell Asheera it's her first morn day. Or: Shadowheart can't remember what it's like to celebrate her birthday.