#gold plated wrist watches

[kaashusa1]

Explore the Top Types of Fashion Watches That Never Go Out of Style

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[e-nonsense]

DAD I’M FROM THE FUTURE

pairing. bruce wayne x daughter!reader

warnings. time travel shenanigans, canon typical violence

summary. reader is Bruce’s daughter from the future.

a/n. i was watching the batman trilogy last night and this came to me. doesn’t follow the dark knight timeline, gonna do a battinson one later.

You��d gotten yourself in quite the situation, messing around in Central City helping out the speedsters with their problems and then accidentally getting yourself thrown back in time. You landed somewhere familiar at least, Gotham City just.. older, less advanced.

From when you were younger, lucky for you the people of Gotham tried to mind their business, nobody spared a glance at the girl in a batsuit, dark purple and a gold orange. Despite the streets looking different the path wasn’t.

You worked your way across the rooftops, swiftly and agile. You made it to Wayne manor in a matter of minutes, going through an open window on the highest floor and creeping through the halls quietly and down to entrance of the cave.

Pressing the three notes on the piano in the centre of the room the hidden door behind the glass shelves swinging open, you step through into the old elevator, going down.

What you don’t know is that Bruce is already waiting for you down there, watching on the cameras. “Who is that?” He asks Alfred, who merely shrugs in response. “Not a clue, Master Bruce.”

The elevator hits the underground floor, before you twist to the side out of the way of a batarang coming your way. “What the hell?” You scowl, dodging when you’re lunged at, you move to hit back but are stopped by Bruce’s hand catching your wrist.

“Let go,” you mutter, he doesn’t budge. “Bruce!” You shout, the name foreign on your tongue.

You see his eyes widen behind the mask and he steps back, “how do you know my name?”

“Let go and I’ll explain.” You retort, his eyes scan your suit, hardened Kevlar plates on titanium-dipped tri-weave fibres, just like his suit.

“Fine,” he releases your wrist, crossing his arms and watching as you pull your mask off. “I’m from the future,” you say, “a future where you’re my dad.”

Alfred chokes on the tea he was drinking and Bruce shoots him a look. “You don’t believe me, i get it. No proof, but dad— Bruce you gotta believe me. Everything i know is because of you.”

Bruce stares, “why’d i take you in?”

He almost smiles at the look that flashes through your eyes, hope, care, pride. “You saved me, you saved all of us. We were like you, orphaned, well me and Dick at least. You didn’t want us to go down the same path as you did, so you taught us.”

Something about you reminded Bruce of himself, a version of him that was happy, younger. “Why’re you here?” He asks, hesitantly taking his mask off, you know better it’s a show of trust, he’s giving you a chance.

“You know Flash? I got mixed up helping out speedsters, got into a fight and thrown back in time. Not sure how long I’ll be here until they figure where in time I’m stuck.” You say, “but shouldn’t be too long.”

“Hm,” he hums gruffly, you don’t take offence to his lack of response, it’d be more concerning if he gave you actual words. Your eyes flicker to the array of screens behind you, case files on the desk, pictures of bodies. “The Riddler case?” You ask, Bruce raises a brow at you.

“You know about it?”

“I’m a little rusty on the details but i can help?” He doesn’t say no as he turns away, despite this not being your Bruce, you could still read him.

MEANWHILE

Barry grunts as he’s slammed into the wall, Bruce scowling down at him. “What do you mean you lost her?” Bruce hisses.

“I mean she’s gone, Bruce. Thrown through time,” Barry groans, breathily due to the way Bruce’s forearm is pressed to his neck.

“Bruce, cmon. We need him to get her back,” Dick, ever the voice of reason.

“We have other speedsters,” Bruce scoffs, his signature glare present. Despite wanting to break every bone is Barry’s body, Bruce lets him go. “How do we find her?”

“Thats easier, magic.” He hears from behind, Zatara.

“This isn’t a league mission,” Bruce mutters.

“But you need us,” Dick adds, Bruce doesn’t deny it, he’s not a speedster or a sorcerer. Dick takes his silence as a ‘good to go’, motioning for the rest of them to begin. “This is hers,” Dick says, handing Zatara a fluffy blanket with the Flash logo on the back.

Barry can’t help the little smile that crosses his lips, you’ve always been one of his biggest fans. he remembers the first time he met you, you were at least seven years old, and you just stared at him silently. eyes wide with adoration, and later you mentioned the Flash being your hero.

His smile drops when he sees the glare Bruce throws his way.

—

“So dad— Bruce, sorry man. Keep forgetting,” you grin sheepishly at the Batman, he doesn’t reply per usual.

“What’s the story here?”

“Nothing,” he replies dryly as you spin in his chair, he seems unamused but sighs and keeps his mouth shut, letting you enjoy the little things. Alfred steps in, setting a plate of cookies and two glasses of milk down on an empty spot on the table trashed with stacked up files and strewn papers.

“We’re not children—” Bruce complains before cutting himself off when you eagerly reach for a glass and a cookie, Bruce cracks an amused smile, before nodding a silent thanks to Alfred. The butler chuckles before making his leave.

“How long until I— your dad comes for you?” Bruce questions, with a raised brow, taking a glass for himself.

“Should be soon, you’ve probably got everyone busting their asses to get me home.”

Home. It’s a strange concept to him, that anyone else, let alone a dozen children think of his manor as a home, let alone him as one too.

“You’re a good dad, B.”

You pause for a moment before continuing, “i mean you have your moments of… less good dad moments but overall. You do great with us, you’re gonna doubt it a lot a times. But you gotta remember in the future you’re not alone anymore.”

He stays silent, “I’ve enjoyed this,” he admits.

“The idea of having a daughter, let alone more kids. I like it, I can see why i adopt all of you in the future, especially you. I know I’m doing right if you’ve turned out like this, you’re a good kid, and a great hero.”

You want to cry, you always do when you hear him praise you. But the moment is cut short when Barry is suddenly in the middle of the cave.

You shoot up, “Barry?”

“Kid!” The speedster grins, he’s at your side in less than a second. “You had me worried, i thought Bruce was gonna kill me— oh hi Bruce.”

Your father — past father? future father? — seems unimpressed, glaring at the man in red. A hole rips through the air, and through it you can see your father, current dad, you can see the worry in his eyes, the sight of his greying hair all too familiar, comforted by the sight of him.

Beside him you see Zatara in some soft of trance, you don’t question it as you rush forwards towards the portal to get to your dad. Before you can pass through you turn back around rushing back to past Bruce’s side.

Bruce’s arms wind around you when you topple in his arms, hugging him tightly, “thank you.” You whisper, your dad watches from the other side of the portal, his heart twisting, he knows how much this would mean to past Bruce.

“How do i find you?” Bruce asks softly, he holds you tightly, not wanting to let you go.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find you.” You reply, pulling away. “I promise.”

He lets you go, with the promise that you’ll find each other. You’ll find your way home, you know that much. You’ll find your dad, whether he exists in whatever universe you’re in or not. You’ll always find Bruce Wayne, whether its his memory or a picture of him, whether he’s real or fake.

You and Barry make your way through the portal as it closes, past Bruce can see the relief in his future selfs eyes once you’re back with him.

Nobody sees how later that night your dad doesn’t leave your side, the fear of ever losing you settling in.

He’ll savour whatever moments he can get with you now.

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[mountainofgoats]

Crawl Home to Her

(Or, Caitlyn and Vi gear up for battle.)

(Or or, this viewer felt robbed of a tender moment between them and decided to write it.)

TIME: Hours before the first shot is fired

LOCATION: Piltover's Council Chambers, lower levels, the Armory

Caitlyn walks into the armory to see Vi holding up and appraising the black and gold chest plate. Her face is screwed up with disgust, like it’s something particularly nasty she’d found under her boot.

“Not your style?” Caitlyn teases from the doorway.

Vi’s eyes dart up to Caitlyn’s and she pouts. “Hell no. Look at it.” She holds the offending chest plate an inch higher. “It’s bulkier than the gauntlets. How the fuck is anyone supposed to move in this?”

Her petulant tone pulls Caitlyn’s lips into a tiny smile. “Not a problem for most people. Though most people don’t move like you, do they?”

Vi smirks. “That’s right." She shrugs a shoulder. "One of a kind.”

Caitlyn moves closer as she speaks. Vi watches her, and the mirth in her eyes dims by degrees as she approaches.

A veneer, Caitlyn knows. A wall against the same nerves and dread that keeps the smile from truly spreading across her own face.

How many times has Vi had to put on a brave face? Stuff her own fear down so deep she hardly feels it for the sake of bolstering the people around her?

Caitlyn reaches out a hand, runs a fingertip lightly against the metal of the armor. “I suppose you don’t have to wear it if you think it will… slow you down,” she says. She stares at the armor. Swallows thickly. “But it’ll help if… I don’t want you to wish you had it if-“

Her voice dies in a rasp. She swallows, tries to dislodge the lump in her throat. Doesn’t work.

Vi’s hand lands gently on her wrist, giving a squeeze. She looks up, and Vi offers a fragile smile.

She hefts the armor a smidge higher. Soft as morning sunlight, she whispers, “Gonna help me out, cupcake?”

Caitlyn half laughs, half sobs, suddenly thrust back into a dark alley a lifetime ago, the smell of gunfire and blood thick in her nose. Back when her biggest problem was hauling an injured undercity menace through the depths of the fissures.

God, how young and stupid they were back then.

She takes the armor from Vi’s hands. So carefully, she guides Vi into it, tightens the leather around her shoulders. Vi watches her silently as she drifts her hands down to her sides, skims her fingers lightly over the wound under her tank top. Caitlyn breathes deep and lets her palm press on the spot, feels the bandages underneath cloth. She holds there, breathes out slow. She swallows, then cinches the leather into place.

She drifts to the other side. Her fingers drag softly against Vi’s waist as she goes. Vi’s eyes follow her as she tightens the other strap so her armor sits squarely and securely over her chest.

One more buckle sits at Vi’s back. Dragging her hands along Vi’s shoulders, Caitlyn moves until she’s standing behind her, so close her breath moves the hair on the back of Vi’s head. She tightens the leather, buckles it into place so it sits flush against Vi’s back. She brushes red hair away from Vi’s neck, skims her fingers over the gears sitting proud and stark against her skin.

A shudder cascades across those broad shoulders and down her back. Caitlyn leans in and presses a kiss, feather-light, against the back of Vi’s neck. She leans there, eyes closed, breathing, fighting the lump in her throat and the nearly animalistic urge to take Vi by the hand and run.

They can’t. Even if there was somewhere to go, anywhere safe, neither of them could live with that.

She breathes out, presses one more greedy kiss to the back of Vi’s head, and moves back to her front. Vi takes a step closer, her hands curling around Caitlyn’s waist as Caitlyn fusses with her shoulder straps. She knows they’re fine, they’re tight and straight and it will protect the precious heart beneath the metal.

Her hands linger anyway.

Vi lets her fuss for a moment, then callused fingers intertwine with Caitlyn’s and gently move her hands away from her shoulders. “Think you got it, hotshot,” Vi murmurs.

Caitlyn huffs wetly and nudges the tip of Vi’s boot with her own. “How would you know? You’ve never worn armor before.”

“I don’t. But we’ll miss the whole thing at this rate if you keep messing with it.”

Would that be so awful? Caitlyn doesn’t say it.

Vi looks at her like she knows though. All soft, sad blue eyes and a barely there squeeze of her fingers. “It’s your turn now,” she says. She lets go of Caitlyn’s hands to turn and grab another chest plate from the wall. Buckles clink and leather creaks as she holds it up, a silent plea in her eyes.

Caitlyn nods, and Vi repeats their slow dance from before- gently settling the metal over Caitlyn’s chest, tightening straps and making sure it all sits straight and true. She brushes light fingers over the skin of Caitlyn’s neck, over the fabric covering her sides and shoulders, anywhere not concealed by black metal.

She stands so close to Caitlyn’s back that she can barely maneuver the straps into the buckle properly. When she fumbles a second time and breathes a tiny huff of frustration against Caitlyn’s neck, Caitlyn chuckles softly. “Having trouble?”

VI’s hands pause for a split second. Then she’s poking Caitlyn’s lower back. “Shut up,” she breathes. Her voice is a warm rasp of amusement. Caitlyn’s eyes slip closed and she soaks it in, a starving plant suddenly thrust into the sunlight.

Vi finally slips the buckle into place and the armor sits sturdy across Caitlyn’s chest and shoulders. But Vi doesn’t move. She leans against Caitlyn’s back, her arms loop around her waist, and she pulls Caitlyn against her chest. Her face nuzzles into the crease of Caitlyn’s neck and shoulder, and she takes a long, slow breath.

Caitlyn grips Vi’s forearms and leans back into her. Vi’s armor digs uncomfortably into her back, but she can’t let go. Can’t bring herself to do anything but lean and hold on wish they could somehow fuse together. Stay warm and safe and surrounded by one another.

Fuck the plan, she wants to say. Fuck all of it. Please, we have to stay together. We’ll be fine if we just stay together.

We’re always better when we’re together.

“We’re gonna be fine.” The words are breathed against Caitlyn’s neck. Warm. Shaky. Almost too quiet to hear.

Almost like they weren’t even meant for Caitlyn at all.

Caitlyn turns in the circle of Vi’s arms. When Vi looks up at her, the raw desperation in her eyes nearly brings Caitlyn to her knees.

God, she wants to run. If only to chase that look off Vi’s face.

She cups Vi’s face, rubs her thumbs over her cheekbones, over the tattoo. She curls her fingers into the baby hairs on the back of her head. Vi leans into her touch, eyes fluttering, hands gripping onto her waist.

Caitlyn presses her forehead to Vi’s and closes her eyes. She sinks into her, breathes into her.

We’re meant to lose this fight.

She could never forgive herself if she comforted Vi with a lie right now.

She takes a deep breath and presses a long kiss to Vi’s forehead. A soft whimper chokes out of her and she clutches at Caitlyn’s waist.

“Please, Cait,” she whispers.

Caitlyn pulls back just enough to look at her. To brush away the tears running down her cheeks. She holds her and says the only thing she knows down to her bones to be true.

“I promise to do everything in my power to come back to you.” When Vi sucks in a ragged, wet breath, Caitlyn presses their foreheads together fiercely. “Vi, I promise. I promise.”

[gangplanksorenji]

Kinknuary Day 17: Brat Taming 

Pairing: Choi Yena x Male Reader

Word Count: 5,832

[Kinknuary Masterlist]

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You can’t always get what she wants and she can’t always get what she needs—these two clauses never contradict as it's different in each way yet aimed towards the same intent: fulfillment.

Choi Yena is a girl you’d watch yourself into, as she’s the living definition of a brat, in your own words. Not really a specific brat, but she really tends to be selfish all of the time, and that isn’t really ideal considering how you’re always making her change but always ends up defeated and your advances deemed to be useless against her.

She has an iron wall that’s tough to break, but under specific circumstances, there’s always the Achilles’ heel to be used against it.

“Well, this sucks…” Yena chides boredom, sighing deeply as she’s deeply restive within the supposedly delicious food in front of the table and with her discontented countenance, you advance to confront her as you’re confused on why she’s acting like this.

“Don’t like the food, princess?”

“Nu-uh. It’s bland and soggy—look!” Yena grabs a minuscule sample of spaghetti with her fork, presenting how incredibly unacceptable it is on her own perspective as she voices out her frustration with it, and you, absolutely stunned with her complaints as you don’t see anything wrong with the food presented.

“Oh yeah, I forgot—should’ve treated you to eat some gold, huh?” You batted out a joke towards her, in which she took it a little seriously, punching your shoulder playfully as her pouts emanated such strong channels of chagrin, not satisfied with the meal she’s been supposedly enjoying.

“Yah! I’m not like that, but I’d like to eat something way better than this…”

Of course, she’ll be luring you into another set of her tricks, opting for you to fall down of her trap but with two years and a half of being with her, you knew exactly what she’s up to for you to fulfill her wants. You read her mind like a book but of course, you’ll choose to play along with her game to bait her and let her be the victim of her own medicine.

“Like what?” You feign such fake innocence, in which Yena takes as an opportunity to voice out her naughty desires and just like that, she stepped into your trap.

“Like daddy’s—” You tighten the grip of her wrists under the table, making her wince in pain as you stop her from her advances of such dirty talk in public.

“You know what Yena, just eat your goddamn food and we’ll get out of here, okay?” You grew impatient with her own antics, making her opt to the possible endgame before the anticipated climax soon.

“But I don’t like it! I don’t like it!” Yena whimpered as she didn't like the words that came out of your mouth and knowing that you’re setting her up to further make her miserable, she stepped up and voiced out her frustrations towards you and you’re not absolutely having it. “I won’t bother finishing these—”

“Alright then, Yena…” You averted your attention onto finishing the food on your plate as your demeanor became stern and commanding and Yena’s face suddenly feigned fear and anxiety, not wanting what may happen next. “It’s just fair to not reward my princess something if she didn’t finish her food.”

Yes, you read her like a goddamn book and guess what, it’s working more than well. Knowing how insatiable you are for her that can’t bear to not be rewarded with your load for a day says a lot, and she’s willing to do everything just to get that desired prize of hers that you would love to use as an advantage against her—Yena’s kryptonite that will flick a switch inside her, making her reevaluate her own selfish decisions.

“Okay then, daddy…”

Well, if she’s willing to provoke the sleeping beast inside you, then you’ll let her, because at the end of the day, you know that she’ll regret it and will absolutely be damned to be punished and used, like the slutty brat she always became, all for you.

---

Royalties and class, two things that exude Yena as every movement of hers is either sophisticated, intense disgust or her own primal needs taking over her. Limited choices yet it doesn’t matter, because it will revolved around that and it will never change—maybe when you’ve fucked something out of her, then maybe the stars will re-align but chances would be slim to none.

There’s no fucking chance in this planet she’ll be able to make others bear her bitchy, bratty attitude and you are the only worthy to handle her as you know exactly how to make her be yours and to tame that living beast inside her, even if it means to do the nastiest things to her.

Well, that won’t be the case for now but knowing how she’s luring you into a challenge, really makes everything inside you be in that state of fury as her words captivate you and turn you on, and it’s damn dangerous to be this riled while driving on a high-speed highway.

Guess the feelings are mutual between the both of you; she can pick the locks inside you as much as you can with hers, and it’s not even close to exert much effort.

“Yena, you know we can’t—not here, princess, alright?” You peacefully pointed out how risky and not suitable for you to really do this, let alone doing such a sinful act on a highway even though it’s just the both of you that will be blessed by the sight.

Not really surprised about her responsive actions of your denial, and you’d love to see that knowing how her frustration and the needy sounds she makes sends you into a state of delight. “Come on, daddy! You’re no fun!”

Yena pouts as she faces you, frustrated with your own selfish acts of your definition of fun as she crosses her arms right after, letting you know how she seriously wants this.

“If you want us to crash because of your selfish needs to blow my dick, then sure, Yena.” With your encouraging words with sarcasm laced on it, Yena faced you with a glare as you can see it evident on your peripherals. As much as you don’t want to, you might just give it a shot and to maybe even risk your life in terms of a pleasurable service and to literally just make Yena shut up with your own length inside her bratty mouth.

“You’re just playing with me, daddy—I know you—”

“Do you want to blow my dick or not? ‘Cause I’m getting pretty impatient, Yena.” You stated, your tone demanding and laced with subtle rage as you continue to drive, unfazed with her own presence that will soon draw onto your own treasured prize and given the green light, she acted up immediately and didn’t waste any of your time. Drawing her attention towards your clothed nether region, her hands then hastily finds its way onto the button of your pants while carefully not hitting anything, and with her subtle touch makes you lose a hint of focus yet you fight it as the last thing you would want to see is crashing on a highway. Carefully unbuttoning your pants and bringing them onto your knees, her eyes lit up in excitement as she can see your member getting erected and that’s all because of her.

“Ooh, getting turned on I see, hm, daddy?” Yena delightfully mocks you as steam comes out of your nose, a bit annoyed with her current antics as there’s no in any planet you would deny how it’s not her fault that you’re getting this hard.

“Then do something about it and don’t kill us, Yena.” She then resumes her advances of undressing your final clothed defense, finally freeing your throbbing length from its prison and she is met with your member, her eyes now lit in awe yet a click of your tongue makes her stop. “Five minutes only.”

Yena whimpers as she looks at you deeply with her signature duck pout, making you rethink your decision as she persuades you with all her might. “Please, can it be longer, daddy? Please, please?”

Even if she bats out her hundred of pleas you will just ignore it as a brat doesn't deserve such reward—she should be grateful instead of complaining but you know that girls like her will be rewarded truly if they earned it, and this is probably just one of the few tests you have in plan.

Guess, you’ll be just the judge while your mind’s focused on driving straight for the both of you to not crash and god, you’re really fighting for it.

Maybe you’ll be the one who’s going to be tested as it’s all deteriorating once she laid her soft lips onto the head of your shaft, as you give in the pleasure yet focus on the highway.

Five minutes—five goddamn minutes.

---

“Kneel down, princess.”

“Yes, daddy…” Yena immediately obliged your command as her face anticipates what you may have in store, her eyes glistening with need and lust that no one can define, maybe not even herself can.

Of course, she won’t be leaving your place without a load dumped inside her or painted on her because of how addicted she is to you and how she’s always a victim of indulging towards her primal desires the second you’re within the vicinity of her sight.

She’s crazy about you as much as you are towards her but Yena’s just on a whole new level—way above the charts of your expectations and it’s not really surprising at this point.

In most terms, she’s always been a pain in the ass the deal with, even with your entire length plunged inside her, she can’t seem to really change her bratty demeanor, like it’s glued onto her by default and it’s bittersweet—bitter in annoyance and sweet because you love taming her, getting the absolute value of each others’ needs.

Even without serving her desired prize on her speedway blowjob earlier, her eyes are still refulgent with anticipation and eagerness—not to mention how she complains so much when her time is up and without a load deep down her throat, completely opposing her current needs for you.

“You better finish what you’ve started earlier alright, princess?” You relax onto the cold, marble wall as Yena nods eagerly, and then advance her way onto your fully-erect length as she eyes it like her favorite meal and with a mischievous smirk planted onto her mouth and her evil eyes, you know exactly how she’ll start this off. You moaned almost inaudibly once her soft, plump lips became in contact with your swollen head and right from the start, her masterclass is absolutely at its peak finest.

Her mouth is one of your treasure features of her, not just by the fact that you could embrace yourself to initiate such a torrid kiss with her but it’s just the fact on how soft they are that it’s just sculpted perfectly to service gratification to you, not even including her sinful gags and the vacuum-like suction that makes up the elements of a mind-boggling blowjob that she always excels at.

Speaking of oral talents, she has it all, and maybe even multiple.

“Keep doing that, princess… Keep t-that mouth all the way in.” Even if it spirals out of control, you’ll be cursed to encourage her ultimately as she takes your whole length slowly, ensuing a leisure bobbing that aims to build up the pleasure and your own libido. 

She didn’t gag, not yet, as she continues to reach new depths, making herself accustomed to your whole length and the inevitable snaps, gagging prematurely as she tried to keep it in without pulling out but was not deemed successful, coughing a little right after her former struggles.

She wouldn’t let herself disappoint you as she grabbed your already saliva-sheathed cock as fast as she could and directed it inside her mouth, blowing you rapidly as her thrusts in quick succession never fails to set yourself on a blissful trance. Her hands find themselves onto the porcelain skin of your thighs, caressing it to voice out how comfortable she is and the other, fondling your sensitive balls in order for better stimulation and better quality of pleasure. Simultaneous gags, drool seeping out of her mouth, tears running down her cheek and her rapid pace lives up tot eh epitome of a blowjob—and she’s cursed to be great at this.cheek and the cherry on top, her rapid pace that adds up to the filthiness of a sinful image she’s been into and god, if you could just take a picture of this, let along record this as a video, you’ll absolutely do it but getting occupied by Yena’s soft lips and tight throat would be just better than anything that can bother you in this world, and you leave it as it is.

Her head frantically bobs like she’s set to hypnotize you as her techniques really live up to her title, every movement she does to stimulate you is making you feel way better than the previous, and it’s really working more than well. She constantly slurps as more drool seeps out of her hungry mouth, also a way to voice out her utter satisfaction with being rewarded with an insatiable candy that she can’t get enough of. Because of her great work between your legs, you dive into the inevitable bliss as your hands find their way to her vibrantly pink locks, grabbing a fistful of it to form a makeshift ponytail in order for you to have such strong leverage to guide her and fight for the utmost gratification.

Of course, she knows what you’ll end up into once she felt your hands on the back of her constantly bobbing head: she could only anticipate it as you hips will gradually thrust into her suffocatingly tight throat, craving for more to the point that you’ll give in and fuck her face rapidly.

She knows you and reads you like a book—again, feelings are mutual, as well as your needs towards each other.

There’s no point in not giving in to using her mouth like a fleshlight, because it’s literally what she’s built for: to take the entirety of your length to the point of no-return and absolutely giving everything you want—what your hips can muster.

“I might need to fuck that bratty mouth of yours princess, you wouldn’t mind it, won’t you?” Your sinister tone makes her apprehensive yet nonetheless, she trusts you with all her might—and you won’t dare to break that—as she nods eagerly, her eyes begging for the absence of your mercy in order to use her mouth with what might you can as she wants it badly. 

“Oh, so you want it this badly, huh?” With her slow bobs, you groan with the pleasure she’s giving yet time wouldn’t be wasted as you grip her hair and make her look up at you, your tone now laced with the utter need of voicing out her primal desires. “Then say how badly you want this, princess”

With more greedy bobs onto your rock-hard shaft, she immediately pulls out as so, and let her lips release such wanton profanities that absolutely will arouse the living beast inside of you. “I w-want you to ram on m-my slutty throat, daddy—”

“How hard, princess?” It was a sudden response, aiming to mutter up an answer escaping her lips on her possible wants of your treatment towards hers.

“Want you t-to fuck my throat like h-how I deserve it…” She trembles between divisible of her own lustful words, the utter nervousness and adrenaline kicking in as she continues stating her needs. “Want t-to feel daddy’s c-cock ramming on my t-throat because of how m-much of a slut I am.”

Good thing she knows what she is and what she came to, at this moment. Given on how sincere she is in every word she says as her tone really pleads you to service her throat, states on how she badly desires her close-to-an-ultimate prize (punishment on you own perspective) and without wasting any second, you opted to give her what she wants and to full indulge to your own carnal desires.

“Okay, princess, hands behind your back—” You command her as you grow impatient with her lustful talks, wanting to make her struggle in the best way possible—also, you would not want to hurt her in the process—and to build up the rising climax of her anticipation. “—and your head up.” Of course, your hands aren’t idle enough to just appreciate the beauty of her waiting to be ruined, as you hands force its way onto the back of her head again yet this time, you grip onto her semi-disheveled pigtails, wanting to use them as handlebars and a leverage on what you're about to do to her—maybe she purposely tied her hair this way, knowing that she’ll maybe get her mouth fucked half open.

If this is what she wants, then she’ll get it but you should let her know why this all started: it’s all because of aiming to tame her properly and if your words can’t do it, then sure, maybe your cock will do the talking.

You don’t even need to command Yena to open her mouth as she does it involuntarily, begging you for more until it was all unable to beared and contained, letting everything but indulged within and you can just see your whole length being submerged into the depths of her mouth, taking more and fully encouraging you to even go deeper. The incredible suction of her cheeks never fails to bewilder you, let alone diving deeper as every inch of her walls results in marvelous groans of pleasure because of the warmth and the right tightness of it. You gave Yena’s mouth few thrusts to get herself used on your whole length again—in a better view, she doesn’t really need that since she’s sucking and getting her mouth used by you very often that it’s started to molded onto the shape of your cock—wanting her to feel every inch of it brushing down her throat as she gags when it hits the back of her throat. She fights it with all her might this time, and when you notice her gag reflex calming down, now’s the time to use the pliant princess’s heavenly throat like how she deserves it.

How does she deserve it? Well, it’s only a matter of time for her to find out.

With now a better feeling from both parties, your hips now ensued such a breakneck pace, catching her off-guard. Yena almost breaks herself free but knowing that if she does, she will be in big trouble and be prone to a worse punishment in which she wouldn’t want to. With that in mind, she fights herself onto your rapid usage of her whole throat as drool inevitably seeps out of her mouth, coating everything in its vicinity with her saliva that further adds to the lubrication with your ruthless advances. You tighten the grip on her hair, causing to add more mess to her already disheveled locks as you continuously rammed her throat like you want to prove something—you don’t need to prove anything but rather, prove herself worthy of your mercy.

“Is this what you fucking wanted, Yena? Your f-face to be fucked like a-an animal?” It’s a rhetorical question but an evident nod ensued right after, noticing it even with your rapid pace trying to open up Yena’s throat as you could find yourself getting harsher with one goal in mind: to tame her and possibly, fuck that brattiness out of her brat mouth.

You didn’t just mindfully thrust your hips like you’re in autopilot, but rather set series of forceful deepthroats, filling every inch of her slutty throat up to the brim, balls-deep and then resuming back onto thrusting—it repeats like a cycle, and that’s part of the plan: foreplay, to be build the suspense and then suddenly go berserk. You playfully tug her hair in order to force her down and then taking your entire length with thrusts ensued on a quick succession, each oscillation hits her saliva-sheathed chin with your own balls as the audible sounds of such skin clapping is arousing you even further.

“Fuck—this bratty throat feels good—can’t wait to even feel more of you, princess—fuck!” You continue to give her ruthless thrusts, breaking the velocity barrier your hips can muster as you pull out of her mouth and not surprisingly, she gasps for heavy breaths and multiple coughs because of your harshness down her throat.

“G-God, daddy—t-that was s-so good—hah, y-you’re going t-to make my throat sore…” Yena muttered between catching breaths and a broken voice, truly making you admire the masterclass you’ve done that she surely loved.

“Of course—need this fucking throat to teach a lesson.”

“A l-lesson? Am I the n-naughtiest student you’ve ever seen, d-daddy?” Yena seduces you with her vixen capabilities and her honey-laced words dripping with lust, and it forces you to sully her again, specifically her mouth.

“You know the answer to that, princess.” Yena looks up with you with a smirk, her mischievous plan starting to come together as she bites her lips and moaned uncontrollably, your hands finding its way on caressing her perky yet voluptuous mounds as you aimed to weaken her until she’s about to be fully submissive. With her hands still on her back, she can’t help herself to fight the pleasure as she can only just whimper and close her eyes, letting the serotonin course down her veins as every second that passes is fully treasured by the bratty princess in front of you.

“I would have used your throat more harshly but bad brats like you don’t deserve to swallow my cum—not even a single ounce of it.” Your hands then palmed her cheek as your fingers caressed it right after, admiring the sullied countenance of Yena’s face that deserves to be at the hall of fame on how it perfectly depicts the oxymoron, “the ruined goddess”.

“Brats need to be punished for being such a bitch and if my words can’t tame you—” Your suspenseful tone is intimidating her, sending chills down her spine as every word you say is laced with sincerity and full on lust. Her mouth shivers when she feels your hand teasing her cheek with your throbbing length, and it’s just becoming better for now considering how you’re building up such a stupendous anticipation that anyone can hook onto, even the both of you. “—then maybe my cock will.” 

You slap your length onto her cheek, making her yelp a little as you command her to stand up, her immediately obliging to your imperative advances, even with a visible struggle because of her lack of balance. 

“Sit here and wait for me, okay? I’ll get something and don’t you dare move away from this position.” You glared at her as she nodded slowly, her mouth curling up onto a smile as her eyes glistened with her own desires, only thinking further of what you may have in store for her.

---

“Wear it, Yena.”

“But don’t I look silly, daddy?”

“Just fucking wear it—it’ll be good on you…” You grow impatient with her complaints as she does what she’s requested to do, as she wears the belt-like leather collar around her neck, her hands trembling probably from her nervousness and there’s nothing to worry about it, knowing it’ll fade faster than the speed of light. With her collar now around her neck, you commanded her to go on all her fours on the bed and again, she quickly obliged, not wanting you to wait any further. Greed consumes over you, finding its way to succumb onto your lustful needs as you line your swollen head within the emanating heat of her lower lips as she moans in every tease you do, fueling up each others’ libido. 

As much as you want to tease the living brat out of her, your aim is to fuck it out of her and you’ll do exactly what you need to.

Not wasting any second, the climax of the show starts as you penetrate her with your whole length and in response, she screams in delight because of how big you are inside her, feeling that you may destroy her guts. You easily fill her up to the hilt, burying your entire shaft inside her and then withdrawing to slam back in hard, making her cry for your mercy and to further fuck her like an animal.

The comeuppance starts, and you’re willing to teach her a lesson she wouldn’t forget—you may have done this to her a lot of times but this time, it would hit differently and you would end this session making her know who you really are to mess with.

Grateful to the helping aid of lubrication with her juices coursing down, and around your shaft, you start off with a relentless pace and don't give her time to get used to your length, wanting to make her feel your wrath and how she deserves to be treated. She further moans in every withdrawal you do as the collar helps for a better leverage onto ramming into her tight core repeatedly, and as the cherry on top, you like the muffled sounds of her chokes every time you pull the chain of the collar, you could hear her broken moans and probably, even asphyxiating her—one of her kinks is you choking her, and you’re glad to be innovative and creative on fulfilling that and knowing this, Yena appreciates this truly as she voices out to even ruin her further.

“D-Daddy—r-ruin my slu—slut pussy! I d-deserve t—to be treated l-like this—oh gosh—holy fuck!!”

You continuously do as so, and with her repeated pleas, you grew annoyed with her ebullient noises and stated your frustrations towards her. “Just s-shut the fuck up and take my cock well, princess!”

With your further attempts of silencing her with your ramming clashes against her tight pussy, you vent out your frustrations and channel everything onto your thrusts, causing her to repeatedly plead and moan because of your aggressive actions. She wanted this deserves this, so she just deserves to be fucked like a true animal. Her arms grew weaker, unable to support her upper frame due to the constant overloading of pleasure she’s been feeling and wanting to bury her head with her advances, you won’t let a single trick up her sleeve be deemed successful against you as you pulled the collar towards you, making her compose such broken melodies that reverberated around the room, and around your ears.

You can hear her cries in every thrust you do, as it’s all starting to come to the point where she’ll fully succumb to her needs and submissiveness, which is your goal before this steamy session ends. It wasn't long before you gave her round, bubble buttcheeks the hardest spanks it deserves as it became frequent all of a sudden, making her yelp and cry because of your harsh actions against her constantly-rammed backside. With now your hands fully occupied to treat her like the slut she is and like the brat she deserves, Yena can’t help but just think of your cock ravaging her tight, little cunt rapidly as it clouds her, same repeated, wanton moans are the response of your actions and knowing she wouldn’t last long at this time and with her cunt constantly clenching, you double the efforts on fucking her onto oblivion as the lustful drive in you takes over. 

“You’re about to cum, right, Yena?”

She mutters a stuttered “yes” as she nods frantically before resuming her constant moans of pleasure. “But what if I don’t want my princess to cum? Will she not cum for her daddy or will she be punished for good? Because—” You let go of the tight grip on the chains of the leather collar as you inch closely onto her ear and whispered with venom, “—if you didn’t follow me, there will be serious consequences and you won’t like that, won’t you, Yena?”

Yena’s apologetic cries can be heard laced in her agreement, scared that she may provoke you that will make her needs be deprived. “I w-will do anything f-for you, daddy but p-please—-ahh!”

You kiss her nape, and then her neck, showing your affection towards her as you worship the musky scent of her body emanating sweat, perfume and sex as you respond, “Please what, princess?”

It took seconds for Yena to respond, the gratification becoming too much to handle as she composes herself, and pleads for you. “P-Please let me cum, daddy…”

A side of you is fainthearted: wanting to not make herself be lost and want her to engage on her high as much as possible but she needs to be punished, and your conclusion with that? To fully ruin her.

Thanks to the constant lapping of her juices, it didn’t became a struggle to lubricate her puckered hole as you insert your thumb in it, opting to stimulate her further as you continued to fuck her mercilessly. It wouldn’t take long before she reaches her high with of the kinky stuff and the most stimulating advances being done all in one session as she lets out whimpers, and knowing that her high is near and you know it’ll blast like a volcano, you wouldn’t put her to torture as lean in again to her ear and then whispering again, “Then cum on my cock, princess—let it all out.”

Giving her the final thrusts with her collar as a leverage onto a greater quality of such mindless abomination of fucking, she clenched tightly as you groan because of it and within a second, she’s in her own blissful trance, moaning out your name as she voices out her ecstasy.

“D-Don’t s-stop fucking me, d-daddy—oh fuck—I’m c-cumming so h-hard—fuck!!”

As requested by her, you continue ramming her pussy as she climaxes beautifully, voicing out series of ecstatic moans as she forms a rivulet around your shaft, dripping it all over her thighs, your balls and some even on the bed sheets which soon will be changed because of how filthy and messy it would be after the both of you are done. You continue oscillating at such an incredible pace that you didn’t mind making her recover on her high, making her yell in pleasure and utmost sensitivity. With a ruthless pace, of course, you didn’t ignore the chains as you pulled

“Are y-you close, daddy? Please c-cum inside m-me—fuck, p-please, daddy—ahh—mmfh-ahh!”

“Don’t tell me what to do, slut!” Of course, after her ephemeral orgasm, you resume onto your harshness, spanking and fondling her mounds as you draw circles down her taut buds, making her whimper because of the pleasure and sensitivity. You grew frustrated and enough of her bratty actions of eternal need as you choke her a little with the collar, further ramming into her tight cunt repeatedly as her thighs now quiver, her limbs growing weaker and letting herself succumb onto your own spell, hypnotizing her with the rapid sounds of bodies clashing together that adds up to the sea of sinful sounds that’s been kept inside this puny room right from the start.

Now chasing your own orgasm and to further commit onto fucking that living brat out of her body, you gave in to your primal desires, fucking each other like animals as within a few thrusts or seconds from now, it won’t be long until you meet yourself onto the promised land—in the possibly eternal state of bliss.

Now, having enough of the collar, you pull her hair as you draw yourself closer to your own orgasm, wanting to make sure that you’ll have one hell of a climax. You repeatedly spank her to further arouse yourself onto the hypnotizing jiggles of that porcelain flesh, making you indulge and draw yourself onto the red and soon enough, it wouldn’t be that long to meet it.

“I’m going to fucking c-cum in this tight, slutty, bratty pussy, alright, princess? Be sure to take it all because fuck—t-this pussy is literally the best!”

“Yes, da—daddy! Please c-cum in me—finally, p-please—ahh—mmfhh!” You continue your rapid thrusts as your fingers coursed its way onto her mouth, making her suck it as she wantonly savors your fingers like it’s your beloved shaft, sensually licking every inch clean as you buried your whole length in her, unable to pull back but just give in.

Series of thick shots flooded her velvety walls, causing her to moan on your fingers as she can feel the warmth of your semen coating each inch of her flesh white and god, she’s also in a state of bliss on how well she is filled by you. She continues sucking and you continue depositing, even thrusting slowly to extend your orgasm further and as it dies down, you leisurely pulled out—and of course, Yena whimpered because she feels empty without your whole length ravaging inside her—of the tightness of her core, a little exhausted because of your harsh work against her sopping wet cunt and what an incredible sight it bestowed you: her freshly-fucked folds full of your cum, some of it even leaking out of her due to the stupendous amount of volume deposited in it.

Guess her highfalutin came down on a sullied conclusion; it was an incredible display of a steamy session, much likely to be cherished as the once boisterous, sex-filled room has now toned down onto tranquil and silence—mostly just heavy breaths can be heard but it is close on silence.

Yena falls limp onto the bed, her back rests as her lips tremble within her voice, “Y-you c-came so much, daddy—i-it’s so thick a-and warm—hah…”

“Now, are you satisfied, princess?”

“More than t-that, daddy…” Yena voices out her utter satisfaction as her needs are now fulfilled by you and right after, she beams a bright smile onto you which makes you faintly grin in response due to her contagious happiness. 

“Also, I’m s-sorry about acting like that earlier, daddy…” You know her apologies aren’t sincere but at the same time, they are—it’s not sincere in a way that she’ll act like a spoiled brat again someday, but now, you’re glad that you’ve fucked your way to teach her a lesson—living the new, ephemeral disposition of hers that’s down-to-earth. You would treasure this truly, but Yena, on the other hand, isn’t in the same shoes with you.

“I want some more, daddy—we can experiment on anything we want, tonight because—” Yena’s hands averted onto your jaw, making you face her as she continues, “—I’m all yours, daddy.”

Seems like she needed more than what you’ve given her and with that, you’re giving her anything to the point of no-return.

[ifearzombies]

What You Wear

Little things I headcanon MC wears on their RAD uniform to keep the people they love close during the day.

From Lucifer:

A small brooch of a peacock feather on your RAD jacket. It’s a beautiful golden feather with multi-colored gems to detail the colours. You love how it accents your uniform and makes you feel slightly more regal.

From Mammon:

You have not just the chocolate lizard keychain, but there’s one of a bird on your RAD uniform belt. It’s not really gold, and the gem eyes are just crystals, but the bird sits on your waist everyday and you fiddle with it when you miss your first man.

From Leviathan:

You have a small goldfish pendant. The chain is a snake-chain design and the pendant is made of acrylic to make it look real. On the back it reads ‘To my Henry’. You can’t help but occasionally kiss it when you pass Levi in the halls to make him blush.

From Satan:

A small golden ring with cats carved into it sits on your middle left finger (with Satan’s instructions to show Lucifer just the one finger to show it off). The cats have emerald eyes to match Satan’s and you fiddle with it when you’re in class together and watch him perform his spells.

From Asmodeus:

A jangly charm bracelet with little chibis of him sits on your right wrist. He wants you to remember his beauty when you’re separated and this was the perfect way for you to look at him when you’re apart.

From Beelzebub:

He gave you a fitbit that you wear on your left wrist so that you can keep track of your health. Humans have short life spans, so he wants you to stay healthy so you can have as much time together as possible. Plus he likes to compete with you slightly over who has more steps per day. He always wins, but you can’t help but keep ‘competing’ to see his overjoyed smile.

From Belphegor:

You have a ring on middle right finger with Belphie’s bear emblem on it, the stones amethyst and diamonds to show his colours. He smiles when he sees the ring on your hand and is sure to comment on it. You ruffle his hair in return.

From Solomon:

You have fire topaz earring studs from the magician. They’re enchanted to boost your magic abilities during exams that involve magic since your powers (without boost) is weak in comparison to him. He smiles whenever he sees you wear them outside of RAD.

From Simeon:

On another belt loop you have a couple of the diamond shaped gold plates that came from Simeon’s angelic clothing. He got the ones he removed replaced, but he wanted you to have the originals so that he’d always be with you- like a guardian angel.

From Luke:

Your feet never get tired from walking around RAD all day because Luke gave you several pairs of socks from the Celestial Realm that make it feel like you’re walking on clouds. You thank the little angel every chance you get because you walk EVERYWHERE in the Devildom. The socks have been your biggest lifesaver.

From Barbatos:

In the breast pocket of your RAD uniform is the most exquisite pocket watch with the emblem for RAD on it’s cover and on the back, Barbatos’ demon symbol. You’re an example. And should always be on time and presentable, in his opinion. Whenever you’re caught using it, Barbatos gives a nod of approval and smiles.

From Diavolo:

In another pocket of your uniform is a glasses case with Diavolo’s symbol on it. The glasses are enchanted to translate demonic texts to a language you understand as when you first arrived, you couldn’t understand some of your textbooks. You cherish the glasses. Plus, Diavolo has stated he thinks they look great on you, so you tend to wear them most of the day you’re at RAD.

[cherryredstars]

Hi cherry!!!! I was wondering if I could request something with collars and/or pet play? Either Miguel in a collar or reader, whatever you wanna do 😊

I just think he'd be into it, esp seeing reader in a collar. Ik we all headcanon him as being a pretty possessive, & I think he'd enjoy having some kind of physical manifestation of that

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x gn!reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Mentions of Penetrative Sex, Mentions of Handjobs, Possessiveness

Summary: He just wants to help you add to your collection.

Word Count: 835 (Not Edited)

It started out small, simple.

They were cute gifts, things he’d give you spontaneously. Necklaces and rings and bracelets that you mentioned in passing or kept on your online shopping carts. Jewelry that you oh’ed and ah’ed at when the two of you went shopping together. He loved the cute gasp you’d let out, your smile wide and giddy as you asked him to put it on for you. He glowed under the heart eyes you gave him as he slipped the jewelry onto you, parting with a kiss to your neck, knuckle, or wrist. 

It pleased him to please you. To spoil you in riches, real gold and silver. None of that fake shit that you pouted about because they began to break, oxidize, or leave green stains on your skin. Only the finest for his baby. He wanted you to have something to brag about when your friends noticed your new accessories. Made him feel prideful when you would gush about the pieces: Miguel got it for me! Isn’t it stunning? I love it so much! It’s probably the most expensive thing I own!

And it struck something primal in him. Something possessive. Seeing you wear the jewelry he bought you. Wearing his necklaces and bracelets and rings. Things he bought with his money for his precious lover. He couldn’t resist the urge to fuck you with them on. Loved watching the way the necklaces laid between your collarbones, jolting when he thrusted into you. Loved the bracelets wrapped around your wrists, getting a better view of them when he held your hands behind your back. Loved the cool metal of your rings as it glided up and down his cock. The possessiveness progressed and progressed and progressed.

It evolved from plain jewelry to ones with his initial. Bracelets with a dainty ‘M’ charm. Rings with an ‘M’ on one end and a gem on the other. Necklaces with thin chains that come together to hold a rounded plate with ‘M’ ironed into it. Of course, you fell in love with them. Smiling and giggling, and giving him sweet kisses followed with possessive fucking. 

It drove him to go further, to test the limits of what he can get away with. 

He kept it in the bag, a small discreet thing like he did with every other gift. You had pranced over to him when you heard the front door open, giving him that warm smile and covering his face in kisses. He had chuckled when he pushed you away gently, whispering for you to wait for him in the bedroom. You nodded excitedly, going towards the room as he took off his coat and shoes. He was quick to join you, instructing you to close your eyes as he placed the bag down beside you. You simply smiled and did what you were told. 

The tissue paper in the bag rustled lightly as he pulled a velvet pouch from the bag. There was the faint friction of rope as he opened it, pulling out smooth and expensive leather. You had jumped when the coldness wrapped around your neck, breath hitching as you straightened up. Miguel hummed from behind you, tracing the material before flicking at the metal ‘M’ that hung from the center. The leather contrasted well with your skin, and he felt his cock stir the longer he looked. 

“Open your eyes for me, cariño.” He mumbled, kissing the skin right above it.

You did so dutifully, hand coming up to meet the collar around your neck. You gasped again, tracing it before looking back at Miguel. You studied his face, searching his eyes for something before falling to his lips. You stared at him in a daze, something akin to lust beginning to glaze over your eyes as you toyed with his initial. 

“Is this..?” You questioned, sure that you already know the answer. 

Miguel smirked lazily at you, shrugging his shoulders as his own finger traced it. “Go look for yourself.”

He helped you off the bed, holding his hand out for you to grasp. You took it gently, letting him lead you into the bathroom. His arms settled around your waist as he stood you in front of the mirror. Your eyes instantly fell to the collar decorating your neck, eyes hazy as you turned your head to see it from all angles. Miguel’s chin rested on your shoulder, pupils blown in lust as he watched. 

When you got your fill of it, you turned your head to look at Miguel, “It’s gorgeous. Thank you.”

He gave you another lazy smile, humming as his finger slipped in between your collar and skin. You let out a startled yelp when he tugged, making you lose balance and fall into his chest. You were quickly silenced when his lips claimed yours. The kiss hot and heavy, both of you moaning as his hands began to squeeze and need your body. 

“Yeah? Why don’t you show me how thankful you are, cachorro.”

Part 2

[lulublack90]

Prompt 9 - First Anniversary

@wolfstarmicrofic January 9, word count 487

Sirius looked at the watch in the shop window. It was gold with a simple clock face, exactly like Remus would like. It was ludicrously expensive, and Remus was bound to complain. But if Sirius couldn’t spoil his boyfriend on their very first anniversary, then when could he?

Twenty minutes later he was walking out of the jewellery store with the watch in a little bag. He couldn’t wait to give it to Remus. 

Sirius had planned everything out. First, he was going to bring Remus breakfast in bed. Then he’d present him with the watch and probably stay in bed all day.

He got up early to get started, but Remus was already up and sipping a cup of tea while reading his book. 

“Happy anniversary,” Remus said to him, standing up and going to the oven where he was keeping their breakfast warm.

“You remembered?” Sirius asked, his voice a little hoarse as he stared in wonder at his boyfriend. Stuff like this wasn’t Remus’s thing and the fact that Remus had remembered, Sirius felt so much emotion that he wanted to throw himself into Remus’s arms.

“Of course I remembered,” Remus rolled his eyes and pointed at the huge puppy calendar on the wall where today's date had been circled in red pen and proudly proclaimed that it was their anniversary. Sirius jumped into his arms anyway. 

“I love you,” He said, kissing Remus. 

“I love you too,” Remus smiled back at him, carefully depositing him on a chair and getting the plates out of the oven with his oven gloves. 

“I got you something,” He said once Remus was tucking into his food. Remus paused, mouth full of eggs. He swallowed roughly. 

“I got you something, too,” He told Sirius, his hand disappearing into his pocket and taking out a small velvet pouch and passing it to Sirius. Sirius took it, staring at it, his eyes becoming a little misty. 

“Thank you,” He spoke softly. He jumped up and disappeared into the bedroom to retrieve Remus’s gift. He handed over the bag, and together they opened their gifts. 

“Oh, Sirius, it’s beautiful,” Remus gasped, fastening the watch around his wrist at the same time Sirius tipped the contents of the pouch into his hand. 

A watch fell out, and he laughed at how they’d had the same idea. His had a black leather strap and Mickey Mouse on the watch face, his arms acting as the minute and hour hands. He loved it. He immediately put it on and checked it was set to the right time. 

“It’s not much, but I saw it, and it made me think of you,” Remus tried to explain, but Sirius cut in.

“Remus, it’s perfect. I love it,” 

They ate their food as quickly as they could, and then Remus led him by his Mickey Mouse watch back into the bedroom, closing the door behind them.

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Vibranium & Stainless Steel -Oneshot *Request*

Word count: 3203 Warnings: language, smut

Y/N was an Avenger.  Well, not like a big superhero type of Avenger.  She was mostly on the sidelines, and only called in when information extraction was needed.  Since Wanda was M.I.A. for the foreseeable future, Nick Fury had been on the hunt for someone who could read minds, and had sniffed Y/N out, a mutant, from some online mutant-safe chat rooms.  She had gone through some training, but overall she wasn’t needed in the field until the Avengers brought back bad guys as prisoners who refused to talk.

It was always a sight to behold when the bad guy would be plopped down on a chair in an interrogation room, looking warily at the room full of superheroes, then in would walk Y/N, a short, plump, bookish-looking woman with large glasses and an oversized dress and cardigan over top.  The bad guys would always scoff at her, until she touched their faces and dug around in their minds, finding everything the Avengers needed to know.

She loved being a part of something bigger, something that felt important.  And she was making new friends, some of them feeling as close as family.  The only problem she had came in the form of James Buchanan Barnes.  Boy was she glad he wasn’t the one who could read minds, otherwise she’d be utterly embarrassed on a daily basis.  Y/N never tried to read the Avengers minds, she had no reason to, and it felt like a huge invasion of privacy.  But every once in a while when she would stare at him too long she thought she noticed a hungry glance being thrown her way.  Surely it was a trick of her mind.

Y/N also could not stop staring at his vibranium arm.  The thing was a work of art, a technological masterpiece.  It fascinated her, intrigued her, and whenever he was close by if she wasn’t being distracted by his inhumanly attractive face, she was gobsmacked by his vibranium arm.  

Over time she noticed Bucky being closer to her, whether it was during group movie nights sitting next to her, staying close whenever they would bring in someone to have her read their mind, sitting at the kitchen table during meals, and he volunteered to give her gun training.  She decided to be brave and ask if he wanted to have a movie night in her room one day.  “You’ve gotta get updated with the best cinema of the last eighty years!” she exclaimed as she pulled up her online streaming accounts.

“And what great piece of cinematography are you going to educate me on?” Bucky laughed.

“Legally Blonde,” Y/N smirked as she looked at him and pressed play.  “Now pass the popcorn.”

As the movie progressed, Y/N was distracted once again, her eyes drifting from the screen to the metal arm that she had purposefully sat next to.  Bucky was leaned back against her headboard, smiling at one part of the movie, long legs stretching out on the bed and his hands intertwined on his stomach.  She eyed his metal arm as inconspicuously as she could.  The way it was formed, the metal manipulated to look like a human arm would, with the plates and divots following the natural lines of muscle that would normally be there was captivating.  The gold that peaked through the plates seemed to shine even in the dimly lit room, complimenting the dark gray color of the rest of the arm.  Her gaze strayed to his hand, matching in size to his flesh one, the smaller plates and glimpses of gold almost making it look, if she didn’t know better, like a really cool futuristic tattoo.  

He suddenly moved his metal arm and laid it flat between them on the bed.  “You can touch it if you want,” Bucky said quietly.

Y/N’s eyes snapped up to his face.  He wasn’t looking at her, still watching the movie, but he had a teasing grin pulling at his lips.  Y/N hung her head and started giggling, covering her face with her hands.  “I’m sorry, Buck.”

Bucky laughed.  “It’s okay.  I get it, it’s a bit strange,” he said, finally looking down at his arm.  He turned it over and rolled his wrist, then flexed his fingers.

“It’s vibranium, right?” she asked.

“Yep.  Designed by Wakanda’s best,” he said, glancing at her.  

“Can you…feel with it?” Y/N asked, her hand slowly reaching out and running a finger along his forearm.

“In a weird way, yeah,” Bucky nodded.  “It’s more of a pressure thing.  I can tell that something or someone is touching me.  It’s hooked up to my nervous system somehow.  I don’t pretend to understand anything Shuri told me about it when they first gave it to me,” he snorted.

Y/N hummed, her finger moving closer to his wrist.  “Can it do anything?”

“Besides bash people’s heads in?” Bucky asked with raised eyebrows.

Y/N rolled her eyes.  “Yes, we get it, you’re a big bad super soldier,” she scoffed.  “I mean does it have any features?  Like does it regulate temperature?  Or a hidden compartment for a gun in there?  Or rockets like the Iron Man suit?  Or–”

Bucky laughed loudly at that as he sat up and turned more to face her.  “No, but I wish!  I should talk to Shuri about that.”  He reached the hand out and took hold of her hand, putting her palm facing upright.  “It can regulate temperature,” he said, laying his palm on top of hers.  She felt it start to heat up a little and her eyebrows raised in surprise.  “Super strong, obviously,” he said.  “Vibranium can only be destroyed by other vibranium, so nearly indestructible.  And lately I found something weird,” he said with a frown.  He lifted his hand off of hers and held it up between them.  He focused on his fingers, and Y/N gasped as they started to vibrate.  “I don’t really know what that’s for, but it’s interesting,” he said, turning his hand over.

“That is…interesting,” Y/N said, gulping quickly as her thighs pressed together.  

Bucky hummed then the vibration stopped.  “Otherwise it functions like a regular arm.  I’m able to subconsciously do everything I do with my right hand.  I can also write with it,” he said with a lopsided smile.  “It makes me ambidextrous.”

“How funny,” Y/N smiled.  “Does it ever…hurt?”

“No,” Bucky shook his head, his gaze meeting hers.

“Good,” she nodded.  They stared at each other for a moment before Y/N blinked rapidly and looked back at the TV.  “Oh!  Here’s the bend and snap!”

“The what?” Bucky scoffed.

***

After that movie night whenever Y/N and Bucky were together he would reach out and touch her with the metal arm.  It was always something playful, like tickling the back of her neck when her hair was up, gently pulling her hair when it was down, poking her anywhere she had exposed skin while he made his finger ice cold, which made her squeak one too many times in important meetings.

Then the touches became friendlier.  When she sat next to him on his left side he would rest the metal arm behind her on the couch, let her hold onto it during scary movies, then reach over and squeeze her knee or thigh randomly.  Y/N was brave again and randomly grabbed his hand, holding it and examining it while everyone was hanging out and talking one night.  She intertwined her fingers with his metal ones, ignoring his eyes on her as she paid attention to the conversation.  It wasn’t the most comfortable thing, holding onto metal, but he didn’t pull away, so she didn’t let go.  Bucky seemed to enjoy the fact that the arm didn’t scare or worry her, and that someone accepted that piece of him that was considered so dangerous.

Y/N’s fantasies and dreams got progressively more spicy after seeing his fingers vibrate.  She woke up in a sweat most mornings, her hips trembling as the last memories of her dreams riddled with Bucky’s vibranium hand between her legs would flit away.  Her staring got worse by the day, until one night while they were in his room hanging out Bucky’s metal fingers snapped in front of her face.

“Jesus, doll, did you hear anything I just said?” he asked, his eyes narrowed at her.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Y/N closed her eyes and shook her head.  “My mind has just been…elsewhere.”

“Does elsewhere have my metal arm as the star of the show?” he asked, arching his eyebrow and crossing his arms over his chest.

Y/N’s eyes widened, and she could feel a deep blush painting her cheeks.  “What?  No, I, uh…” she floundered.  He gave her an unimpressed look and Y/N sighed, looking away.  “I’m sorry, Buck.  I shouldn’t stare.  It’s just really cool, beautiful even!  And ever since you showed me the features I’ve been thinking about how it would—” she cut herself off with a gasp, covering her mouth with her hands.

Both of Bucky’s eyebrows raised.  “How it would…what?” He asked, slightly tilting his head.

Y/N shook her head.  “Nothing, uh, forget it,” she said, sliding off his bed and backing away towards his door.  “I um, I gotta go do something, I forgot–”

Bucky quickly stood and walked toward her.  “How it would what, Y/N?” he said, making her back up faster.  She didn’t realize how close she already was to his door and backed into it loudly with a huff.  Bucky’s arms caged her against the door, his head dipping down to be eye level with her.  She stared at him with wide eyes, her mouth agape as her breathing got heavier.  The look he was giving her was one she’d never seen before, at least not in real life.  His gaze flickered across her face, his own breathing becoming heavy.  “Answer me,” he grumbled.

Y/N swallowed harshly.  “H-how it would f-f-feel,” she stammered in a whisper.

“How it would feel…where?”  Bucky breathed, his head tilting again and eyes narrowing.

“On me,” Y/N replied.

Bucky let out a frustrated sigh.  “Are you always this infuriating?” he asked.  “Use your words, Y/N.  Be a big girl and tell me what it is you want.”

Y/N whined involuntarily and it made his eyes widen.  It was now or never.  “I want you to use your fingers as a vibrator on my clit,” she whispered in a shaky breath.  “I want to feel them inside me.  All over me.  I want y-you.”  Y/N slowly reached a shaking hand up and caressed his cheek.  “I l-like you…a lot.”

Bucky’s eyes fluttered at the feeling of her fingers on his face.  Then his hands slid from the door to cup her face, his metal thumb sweeping across her cheek.  “I like you, too,” he breathed, then leaned down and kissed her fiercely.  

Y/N couldn’t hold back the moan that traveled up her throat at finally feeling his lips against hers.  Her arms wrapped around his waist, hugging him close as he kissed her until she felt lightheaded.  Bucky’s metal fingers wrapped around the back of her neck and into her hair, forcing her head into a different angle to deepen the kiss.  His rougher treatment made her whimper against his mouth, and he opened his mouth to lick at her lower lip, then nip at it teasingly.  

Bucky licked into her mouth, tasting her tongue and groaning at how easily pliable she was being for him.  “Are you sure you want this, doll?” he asked quietly as he moved his kisses to her cheek then down her neck.  “I’m a bit of a mess.”

“My mess,” Y/N immediately responded.

Bucky huffed a laugh against her ear.  “Your mess,” he chuckled.  

Y/N’s hands felt him all over his back, his sides, and up his front.  Her fingers ran over something hard on his chest, and she followed the line of a chain up to his neck.  It was his dog tags.  She twisted the chain out from his shirt so she could grip the dog tags and pull him down harder as she kissed his mouth again.  Jesus, do I have a metal fetish? 

“Fuck!” Bucky growled.  His metal fingers fisted into her hair and tugged as he bit her lip harder then sucked on it.  Y/N whimpered again and he turned them both around and started walking towards his bed.  He released her hair and took a step back.  “Strip,” he commanded.

Y/N took off her clothes in record time.  Bucky looked her over slowly, the desire in his eyes making them look darker.  He took off his dog tags and hung them around Y/N’s neck.  The feeling of the metal hitting her sternum made her shiver.  He then gripped the chain like she had before and tugged her harshly towards him.  “Mine,” he grumbled.

“Yours,” Y/N nodded.

He then pushed her back onto the bed and she quickly crawled backwards until she was laying flat and watching him.  Bucky then started to slowly strip out of his clothes, his eyes never leaving her.  Once he was fully naked in front of her he started to crawl up the bed until he hovered over her.  He leaned on his flesh hand as his metal one reached up towards her mouth.  His fingers brushed over her lips, which she obediently opened.  “Get them wet for me, doll,” he said lowly.  Y/N nodded and sucked his fingers into her mouth.  She licked and sucked them heavily until he pulled them out of her mouth and brought them down in between her legs.  “That’s so hot, doll,” he said, looking down at her pussy.  “You’re good with your mouth, aren’t you?  Can’t wait to have you suck my cock soon.”

Y/N gasped then moaned as his metal fingers started slipping through her lower lips, rubbing her all over until they finally found her clit.  He rubbed it slowly, then looked at her face as his fingers started vibrating.  Her mouth dropped open in a silent moan, her fingers gripping the blanket beneath her for dear life.  The way the metal felt against her core was strangely addicting, with his fingers interchanging between warm and cool as he regulated the temperature while they vibrated on her clit.  He then left his thumb on her clit while the others dipped down until he could find her entrance, prodding one finger in, then another once he found how wet she was.  

“Oh my god!” she cried out.  “Buck…Bucky…I-I…fuck!”

“Is this what you wanted, doll?” Bucky smirked.  “Is it how you imagined it would be?”

Y/N’s head thrashed as his fingers thrust back and forth into her, the vibrating as they curled against that spot deep inside making her see stars.  “Better,” she squeaked.  “So much better!”

Bucky smiled wide and leaned down to kiss her again.  Within a few moments his touches brought her over the edge and she squealed into his mouth, her hot breaths fanning his face.  She was shaking as he slowly pulled his fingers out of her and brought them up to his mouth as he pulled away from the kiss, licking them clean and moaning at the taste of her.  “Goddamn, doll,” he said.  “Next time I’m gonna take my sweet time tasting you.  But right now I just need to be in you.”  Y/N nodded tiredly, still recovering from her orgasm.  He positioned himself in between her legs, lifting them up and over his hips as he gripped his cock with his flesh hand and pumped himself a few times then ran the tip of it through her wet lower lips.  “Do we need protection?” he asked suddenly, glancing up at her face.

“No,” Y/N shook her head, her pussy positively throbbing and begging to be filled.

“God I love this century,” he smiled.  Bucky started slowly pushing into Y/N and she shuddered, trying to breath through and adjust to the intoxicating stretch of his cock.  

“Bucky…” Y/N breathed as he finally bottomed out.  “You feel so good.”

“Fuck doll, you’re perfect,” Bucky huffed, his brow furrowed in concentration.  “Best pussy I’ve ever felt, holy shit…”

He leaned back down and started kissing and licking along her breasts, then slowly began his thrusts in and out of her.  Y/N felt like she was just trying not to lose her head, but was nearly delirious at how perfectly he fit inside her.  All she could focus on was him.  All she could see, feel, hear, and taste was him.  Bucky’s metal hand slid up her stomach and over her chest, tweaking whichever nipple he wasn’t currently sucking on.  It then slid up to her neck where he wrapped his fingers around her throat.  Her fingers gripped his metal wrist, her eyes widening as she stared up at him.  “Please,” she whispered.

Bucky watched her carefully for any signs of discomfort as he squeezed her throat.  He wouldn’t find any.  Y/N’s head tilted back, her eyes rolling back into her head as she gasped at the feeling of his fingers around her neck and the grounding effect it had while the restricting of her breath pushed her further into delirium.  “Fuck, Y/N,” he moaned.  “Where have you been all my life, huh?”  He let go of her throat, letting her breathe normally again, but his metal hand went to the dog tags resting in the middle of her sternum, and pulled them so her head was forced up, meeting him halfway.  His hips picked up a frantic pace, skin slapping against skin, their combined panting breaths making the moment feel intensely intimate.  “You’re mine, you hear me?” he growled, his nose nuzzling hers.  The dichotomy of sweetness and possessiveness made her pussy flutter around him.  “Mine.”

“Yours,” Y/N promised, nuzzling him back, then kissing his metal knuckles.  “Mine.”

“Fuck yeah, I’m yours, all yours doll,” Bucky smirked.  He kissed her hard, and it was finally enough to have her cumming again.  She screamed into his mouth, her fingers scratching his back and her legs shaking.  Bucky shuddered as her pussy gripped him insanely tight.  He was right behind her, cumming deep inside her and rutting it further into her until she could feel it leaking down to her ass.  His kisses became lazy as his hips came to a stop and they both calmed down, heavy breaths being swallowed by the other as he continued to lick into her mouth to taste her repeatedly.  “Shit, Y/N,” he huffed, making her smile.  

“Right back at ‘ya, baby,” she grinned.

Bucky’s gaze was flicking around her face, memorizing the moment, his eyes twinkling.  “I like being your baby,” he murmured, his metal finger tracing along her cheeks and her nose.

She turned her head and kissed his metal finger.  He grabbed the dog tags again and held it up to her lips, and she kissed them.  “I like being your doll,” she replied.  

[mullermilkshake]

Suguru is late for dinner.

MINORS DNI - Tags: Yakuza AU, references to Fem! Reader, graphic depictions of violence, blood, gore, organs, references to castration, gutting.

<- Back to arc masterlist

"Mr Geto, I can finish this. You're getting blood all over your clothes and you have dinner with your wife tonight."

The squelching of muscle and bone never bothered Suguru. Not the cutting of tendons or viscera along his serrated gold plated blade, or the pathetic cries once someone realised not to cross him and begged for their life to swear loyalty to the Geto family.

Why the hell would Suguru trust anyone who tired to steal from him, cause a disturbance in one of his clubs and they bare face lie to him after?

No. He could already hear you in his ear, telling him straight what he already knew. Never let someone take you for a fool twice.

"It's perfectly fine Miguel, she'll understand if I'm a little late."

You would. He realised pretty early on in the marriage that you pretty much had no issue with whatever he did, as long as he had a reason to follow it through.

By now, Suguru was wrist deep inside the mans torso, rummaging around in the chest cavity for one reason in particular. "Which one do you think this little group of Yakuza will appreciate more, Miguel?"

"Anything that's disrespectful."

"That's true," Suguru pulled out a clump of everything from the hole he had cut. "While the lungs are prominent, they're a little bulky... maybe the heart, but it's a little too predictable."

The man on the table once belonged to a small up and coming group of Yakuza men, they had come from a rural area to Shinjuku looking for real estate. Satoru had already dealt with the majority of them, Suguru was taking care of the stranglers to add insult to injury.

Miguel approached the table with a casual stance and leant against the wall. “His head would be good but then the shipping cost would be a pain,"

"Maybe I could cut off his cock and send that instead, it's disrespectful enough, right?" Suguru shook off his hands and glared down at the body on the table. "No. That's too good for him."

He glanced at the clock on the wall and tutted. "You took up way too much of my time, didn't you?"

The body never replied which was disrespectful enough. "Miguel, take this piece of shit and dump him somewhere they'll find him. Sending a body part somehow seems too formal for scum."

"Yes sir."

This whole operation wasn't for nothing, but when you realised that Suguru pretty much cut up a man for no reason, well, he'd have to make it up to you.

He was already late for dinner when his pager went. Cleaning himself off, Suguru checked it. "Shit..."

316... There was only one reason someone would page him that code.

"Sir?"

"Change of plans. Call my wife immediately and tell her we'll need to do dinner tomorrow. Sukuna needs me for a meeting, it's urgent. I'll make it up to her."

"She isn't going to be happy, is she?"

"No, but if you play your cards right, maybe she'll set some food aside for you, it's better someone eats, instead of it going to waste. Take her some flowers in the meantime once you've finished with our friend here."

Suguru watched Miguel grin and start moving the body, you would have gone to much trouble making dinner tonight and it was only right you still ate with someone, even if it wasn't Suguru.

He wiped off his hands, cursing to himself for the inopportune moment to pull an emergency meeting when Suguru had just been to clan headquarters earlier that day.

But, still was life and being a lieutenant called for this attention.

This better be good.

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[sergeanttpoliteness]

sooo.. no idea how old the post was, but if your req are still open, Wholesome Spider Noir? 0u0

hello, love! not sure which post you're talking about, but the last time i posted a story was in 2020, so it's surely been a while, lmao. to be honest with you all, my days of writing for marvel are coming to an end, but when i saw this ask, i thought i'd post something in honor of the sequel of the movie that started it all, since this blog will forever mean a lot to me. thank you for this request, i hope it's enough <3

--------

Peter watches you now, as you wash the dishes and pass them to him to dry, lather covering your hands and forearms. You nearly drop and break a ceramic plate in the sink, and your humming to a song stuck in your head is replaced by small giggles.

He worries you’ll never know how much he truly loves you.

He knows you understand how tough it can be for him sometimes to be as open and vulnerable. Tribulations and heartache forged his heart, painted his soul a deep blue— like fierce, destructive ocean waves during a violent storm. You’ve reassured him countless times, yet after everything he’s seen, his brain struggles to accept there can exist someone so gentle, so angelic. As war and bloodshed explode around him, you’re like a flower blooming in between the broken concrete—  beauty amidst the foulness.

You wash the soap off your skin, and when you close the faucet, Peter immediately reaches for your wet hands and gently dries them with the kitchen towel. You chuckle. “You’re supposed to dry the dishes— not my hands.”

At the sight of your grin that reaches your eyes, he smiles. So many words, so many languages, so many smiles, and touches of lips, yet neither could ever fully convey this glow in his chest. So many universes, worlds, and people that have entered his life and that he will happen upon, yet he’ll always choose to be here with you. 

He calls your name. It’s an incantation that illuminates his chest and seeps into his surroundings, painting over the blue with glimmering gold. It helps him believe he won’t forever be damaged. No, he can also be the sunlight filtering through the heavy clouds and smoke, caressing the flower. 

Instead of the towel, Peter’s hands now brush against your skin, fingers trailing down your forearms, wrists, and knuckles until he places his palms flat against yours. He reaches down and plants a tender kiss on your forehead, lips lingering for a while. When he pulls away from you, heart racing, he prays you understand.

Your eyes soften, your fingers interlocking with his. 

“I know. I love you, too.”

[https-florals]

banana pancakes - j.m.

word count: 2,347

summary: soft slow morning sex with JJ.

warnings: smut under the cut, minors dni!!! really soft fluffy smut, very slight dacryphilia (literally just mentioned in dialogue)

a/n: would have never guessed that outer banks would be the hyperfixation to pull me out of my smut writing block but here we are!!! likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━┅━

You could never wake up in a bad mood at the Chateau. Even on the mornings after partying hard, the hangover always seemed a little weaker; not as rough and it would have been anywhere else. It’s like the place was laced with dopamine, a bubbly warmth spreading through your body the second you walked in. It was a similar feeling creeping through your veins right now, waking up with JJ’s face buried in your neck.

Laughter and the sound of cookware clashing together come from the kitchen. Somebody is blaring Jack Johnson, and you hum to the song as you try to extract yourself from JJ’s grasp.

He groans, shifting so most of his body weight is on top of you.

“J!” you manage to choke out, trying to squeeze out from under him.

“S’too early,” he grumbles, pushing his face into your chest. You can practically feel him grin against your boobs, and you roll your eyes as you finally push him off.

“You’re such a perv,” you joke as JJ rolls onto his back, hands behind his head. He’s so pretty in mid-morning light, you think as you watch the soft shift of muscle in his bicep. The ends of his dirty-blonde hair are so sun-bleached that they glow in the sun like pure gold, and you card your fingers through it like it’s an involuntary reflex.

JJ is still grinning as he takes your wrist and presses a kiss to the palm of your hand. “Morning, sweetheart.” He pulls you back on top of him, like he’s stuck to your skin with superglue. With his chest bare underneath your fingertips, you think that JJ Maybank is the prettiest boy on the cut. You kiss him, hoping to get the point across. It’s like pure heaven when his hands smooth up your thighs to rest on your hips, playing with the band of your underwear as he pushes your shirt- his shirt- up. You could never get tired of mornings like this.

JJ’s tongue has just slipped over yours when there’s a loud clanging somewhere in the back of the house, then someone shouting, “Pancakes are done!”

You practically jump off him, much to his disappointment, and yank on a pair of his boxers that’s resting on the dresser.

“Hey!” JJ whines as you slip through the doorway.

“I’m gonna bring you some!” you promise. Everybody except you and JJ are in the kitchen, you realize as you step into the room. The little galley- style kitchen is a little too packed, with Kiara flipping pancakes on one side, Sarah cutting up strawberries and bananas on the other. Pope is sat at the table with all his textbooks spread out, and John B is rolling joints across from him. It’s such a mismatched little group, but you couldn’t love it more. You snatch a strawberry from Sarah’s cutting board, yelping when she tries to pinch you in return.

“Look who’s up,” Kiara says, smiling as she flips two pancakes onto a plate. “If you’re trying to take these to JJ, I’m not letting you. He can come get them himself.”

You roll your eyes, grabbing the plate. “Do you wanna deal with a hungry JJ? Cause I don’t wanna deal with a hungry JJ.”

Kie sighs, but nods and puts two more pancakes on your plate nevertheless. You utter a thank you, then Sarah is piling fruit on top of your stack. “It’s sweet, how you act all motherly.”

“Freud would be so proud,” Pope comments, not even looking up at you.

You fake gag, Sarah bumping against you as she laughs.

Kie calls him out, saying, “Don’t make it gross, Pope.”

Maple syrup is your last pancake topping, and with two forks and some napkins in hand, you’re all set. You’re focusing on balancing the plate in one hand and your metal water bottle in the other, when John B shouts after you, “Remind J we’ve got a surfing date.” He holds up one of the joints, adding, “I’m even packing us a picnic.”

“I gotta get this study guide done,” Pope states. “Take your time.” He waves you off, and with that you slip back into the bedroom, just to find JJ sound asleep again. You set the plate on the nightstand, and crawl over him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “J,” you whisper, rolling your hips into his without even realizing what you’re doing. His eyes fly open, hands clamping onto your hips. “And I’m the perv?”

You sit up, frowning, but JJ keeps you where you are, hands like a vise. “I was trying to give you breakfast in bed, but of course all you think about is sex,” you scold, like a liar.

His expression hasn’t changed from that punchdrunk grin. “What kind of breakfast are we talkin’ here?” He’s proving your point and he knows it, but you can’t say much. You’d let him do whatever he wanted to you at any time, but the pancakes are warm, and you don’t want them soggy. You climb off him as he leans up, and set the plate in his lap. “You need like, real nourishment.”

“I could live off you and be the healthiest man on earth.” JJ’s grin is cocky, his hand not leaving your hip.

You roll your eyes, ignoring the little twist in your stomach, and take a bite of the pancakes. They’re perfect, and you force a bite into JJ’s mouth before he can protest.

“Isn’t that so good!” you exclaim, taking a few more bites before you give him the fork.

“Bet it doesn’t taste good as you, though.” He sets the plate on the bedside table, pulling you onto his lap again. JJ kisses you soundly, tasting like bananas and syrup.

“You’re supposed to go surfing with the boys,” you remind him as he trails kisses down your neck, and he pauses.

“Baby.”

“Yeah?”

“I got all the time in the world. Now do you want me to fuck you or not?”

You wrinkled your nose, answering with a “Fuck is such a harsh word.” But you’re pulling the blanket up around you and wiggling out of your underwear.

“Fine. Make love,” he laughs, and you can feel him twitch through his boxers. He’s already hard and it makes you smile.

“That’s just a little cringe,” you reply, taking his hand and pushing it between your legs.

JJ kisses you as his fingers dip into you, forever loving the way you gasp against his lips. “Whatever you want, I’m your man.”

“My man needs to touch me,” you state, grinding into his palm, desperate for a little friction.

His eyebrows quirk up, and two fingers slip into you quick, working you open. “Then who the hell’s fingers are in you right now?”

You slump against him as his thumb begins to circle your clit.

“You’re soaked, baby,” he groans.

Of course you’re still wet. It’s a little bit leftover form last night, from JJ fucking you hard like you were dying tomorrow. It’s also partly from the sun bouncing off his hair, the slope of his abdomen, the gravel in his voice as he sweet-talks you. “Think you can take it?”

You nod fervently, pushing his boxers down and positioning yourself over him. You’re still a little achy from last night, but the tiny discomfort is worth it.

That first push is always heaven. Your foreheads are pressed together as you sink down onto him, breathing in tandem. It’s slow and soft like a Saturday morning, all smiles and gentle touches.

“All mine,” is the only thing tumbling past JJ’s lips as he fucks up into you, his pupils blown.

You’re both quiet, all too aware of your friends still in the house, but the sex isn’t rushed. His hands creep under your tshirt, thumb grazing your nipple and staying there. You could never get tired at the way he smiles at each of your little noises. His head is tilted back against the stack of pillows, the muscles in his abdomen tensing as he fucks you gently.

“J,” you exhale, hands flat on the plane of his stomach. “You’re so fucking pretty.” You can’t help but babble on, practically drunk on his taste, his smell.

“Shut up. I’m gonna come in two seconds if you keep talkin’ like that.

You smile, and fall quiet for a moment as you kiss him. It’s open-mouthed and messy, sharing breath.

His eyes are wider than the moon and bluer than the aquamarine stone in your necklace.

He slips his hand between you, finger just grazing your clit. A almost pornographic moan slips past his lips as you clench around him at that first touch, and you do the same in quick succession as he rubs that little bundle of nerves again. His rhythym stays slow, and though it stutters a bit, it doesn’t falter. You like rough sex as much as the next girl, but something about this lazy morning intimacy drives you wild. You swear you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock, the gentle speed making everything so heightened. JJ feels the same. He takes his time with you, rough palms smoothing over every curve of your body. There isn’t a square centimeter if your skin that JJ hasn’t touched.

He deepens the pressure on your clit little by little, but still keeping the slow pace.

You’re a mess, whining and writhing above him.

“Come on, sugar. You need to come, pretty girl?”

You slump against him, with your mouth on his collarbone, and whine.

He tilts your head up so his eyes meet yours, and he shushes you softly. “Lemme hear you ask.”

“Please, J.”

“Fuck.” His eyes roll back as he bounces you a little quicker, rubs your clit a little harder. His touch slips away for just a second, and you groan, brows furrowed. “What the fuck, J?” It’s a little rude, and he smacks your ass as a little rebuke.

“You’re being mean,” he shushes as he sits up and pulls your legs around him. The slight shift lets him hit a little deeper, and your head rolls back. JJ has a cocky grin plastered on his face, and it just gets wider when his fingers return to your clit. “Feel good, darlin’?”

You can only get out two coherent words in between your stifled moans, babbling, “S’good. S’good.”

A knot begins to tighten in your abdomen, hot and heavy. JJ knows your signs all too well, and keeps pressing on.

“You close?”

Like he doesn’t know the answer. You nod, and he presses his forehead against yours.

“I want you kissing me when you come, pretty. Think you can do that?”

The task seems simple enough, but as JJ pushes you closer to the edge, your head keeps falling back, causing him to remove his fingers and use that same hand to push your face back to his. “I had one request, baby. C’mon.” His tone is playful, but it’s frustrating nonetheless. You’re determined to keep your lips on his.

You can feel him twitch inside you, and the knot in your stomach begins to unravel. Your mouth is open against his, breath hitching in little sobs, tongues meeting then parting then meeting again.

Your orgasm hits you like a truck, and JJ kisses you hard, just in time to at least muffle your moans. He stutters inside you as he fucks you through your high, and it takes seconds for him to come crashing down with you. JJ has always been noisy, almost more than you at times, and you have to clamp you hand over his mouth as he groans a string of curse words randomly interjected with your name. There’s a lull to the movement of both your hips, but he doesn’t pull out immediately. You can feel the mix of you two slipping out, and you move off of him, grinning at his annoyed whine. “Just wanna have you sit on me for a while, babe,” he pleads.

“You have a surf date,” you remind him, kissing his cheek.

“Surf date, smursh date,” he mutters, swinging his legs off the bed and pushing himself up.

You drink in the view as you crawl under the covers and grab the plate of pancakes. His back muscles bunch and smooth as he pulls on his trunks and a cutoff tee. “Y’know, we could have slow sex for the rest of our lives and I’d never get bored,” you muse, taking a bite of pancake. They’re a little cold and soggy now, but you don’t mind that much.

“Yeah, but you’re so pretty when you cry.”

“Don’t be gross. You’re not changing my mind on this, Maybank.”

He kisses you on the forehead, soft and sweet. “Let’s go out tonight,” he proposes, switching the subject seamlessly.

“And do what?”

JJ pushes the baby hairs out of your face, answering, “Let’s go out on the boat! I’ll bring some weed and snacks, and you just bring your pretty little self. We’ll figure out something to do.”

You give him a dubious look, but your excitement peeks through. “Why do I feel like that something is gonna be sex?”

“Well, I was thinking we could stargaze, but I’m cool with sex if you are.”

You punch him in the arm and he laughs, pinching your sides in return.

“J!”

“C’mon, baby, it’ll be fun!”

You finally grab his hands in an effort to keep him from tickling you. “We can’t have sex on the boat. Sound carries so bad out on the water. The whole island would hear.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Maybe I want the whole island to know that I, JJ Maybank, am fucking the hottest girl in Kildare.”

You push his head away and press your lips together, trying to feign disgust, but you’re blushing.

JJ kisses you and wipes the look off your face. “So, 8?”

“You’re such a freak,” you laugh.

He opens the door and starts to slip out. “Only for you.”

[charles-leclerizz]

ꕤ — DESERT OASIS

recording : date_number #1

THE FIRST DATE ON THE RECORD - NOT COUNTING THE THREE IN THE VAULT

word count : 788 words

reading time : 3 minutes 19 seconds

Masterlist · 🪷 Aisha · 🪷 Porsche F1 Team · 🪷

their playlist · 🪷 the relationships · 🪷 their relationship · 🪷 their pinterest board

" You think they saw us ? " aisha whispered, grasping her clutch to her waist as lando winded a hand around her waist and guided her up the steps of the ritz-carlton.

He snorted against her and placed a kiss on her exposed neck whilst plucking the keys of her Porsche from her hand to drop them into the obedient valet who stood patiently for them.

" I would be worried if they didn't "

His words seemed to work as a prayer, impromptu flashes and unintelligible shouts surrounded the couple who merely squeezed closer together whilst aisha glanced apologetically at the worker who was navigating the crowd with her car.

" You summoned them, " she hissed into his ear, smiling at the odd, matte black barrells that were aimed at her.

Lando chuckled, raising a hand up to take her chin into his grasp and pressed his lips against her cheek, his mouth raising into a cheeky smirk, " yea well, they're rabid dogs. "

She hummed in answer, laying her forehead against his shoulder tiredly, " can we go in now ? " aisha whined, her vision blurring at the startling beams of light increased tenfold.

Lando nodded, glancing down at her, " lets go. " he tutted his head in acknowledgement at the paparazzi before taking her hand and guiding them through the threshold of the resort.

" Date number 3 and they've just begun to post about us " aisha giggled down at her phone and twisted her wrist to show the man who sat in front of her the app.

" Is that what these are ? " lando grins back, " I just thought I was getting to look at a pretty woman for a large fee. " he shrugs as he leans back and takes in the late evening city scape.

The sprawling metropolis sat alight beyond them from the perch of the dinner table, the glistening lights from the various buildings illuminated the private meal from the rooftop restaurant they shared.

" A large fee ? honey, it's payment for being able to look at a pretty woman "

He laughed at that and reached over the table to take her hand in his whilst running his thumb over the gentle idents of her knuckles, " hmmm " he kissed each finger purposefully, " I guess you're right. "

" You've changed norris. " aisha cocked her head affectionately as she slipped her fingers out of his hold and ran them through his curls.

" I would hope so. last time we were together, we were just 15 years old. "

" You know what I mean." she sighs, " drivers are meant to be man whores, sleeping around and arrogant while they do it. you're nothing like what I heard. "

" And here I thought you were focusing on your career. "

" I am- but it's hard to ignore the journalists. "

Lando leaned back in his chair before jutting his foot out to nudge her heeled one, " well then lucky me, " he leaned his head onto his palm whilst the other came to wrap around his empty wrist, " because I'm perfectly happy with you. "

" You're too much of a flirt for your own good, " she arched a brow at him from over the rim of her wine glass, the sweet and perky alcohol slipped down her throat slowly as his eyes watched the nape of her neck like a python and its prey.

" You fell for it. " he argued, hazel eyes glinting.

" Fell for it ? jury's still out on that one. " she slid out of her chair, pushing away from their empty plates as she sauntered out towards the lip of the roof, pristine glass protected her from the far drop as a cool breeze swept by.

The gold silk of her dress rippled, and the swooping cut of her back tickled the dimples of her hips whilst the thin chain skimmed her spine. Leaning forward, aisha braced her elbows on the glass before she glanced behind her and bit her lip at lando who was approaching her from his place.

His shadow overtook her space as he leaned down to her ear and whispered, " never got the opportunity to appreciate your outfit tonight, " his fingers trailed down to the seam of where the fabric embraced the arch of her back, " it's perfect. " he purred.

" I never fuck up an ensemble norris, you better learn that quick. " she twisted in his hold and tucked her nose into his neck, " it's best for you. "

" yes ma'am " he mumbled against her.

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directors note's : oh oh oh, here we are people, welcome to the first of 5 cute-sy dates from the paddocks it couple ! i just thought these would be nice to fill the silence between episodes [ which btw, i have not started writing ep 2. life really fucking sucks ] please let me know if you love this couple as much as i do. or if you havve some theories about their future. it's yap-central in my inbox so come one, come all

[ragingbookdragon]

There’s not much to see in between the minute slits of the burlap sack thrown over her head, but she still strains to see anything and everything that she possibly can. The men holding onto her arms dig their fingers into her arm, a bruising grip that is in part her fault as continually digs her feet into the ground and struggles with something fierce. Ghost is behind her, can feel it, even if he hasn’t said a single word. She on the other hand hasn’t stopped spitting fire every chance she gets, venomous threats and cold warnings.

It’s only until she’s shoved down onto a seat, arms tied behind her back with her legs bound too that the hood is harshly yanked off and she shuts her eyes at the bright light above her, much like driving on the road at night and being blinded by powerful LEDs. As her vision clears, she sees the captors who’d managed to get the jump on her and in turn, capture Ghost as well, and he’s in the same position as she is, but there’s definitely more rope around him than there is her. She snarls at them when they come close, baring her teeth in a way that says, “touch me and lose a finger.”

“What do you want from us?” she gripes, voice devoid of any emotion but annoyance.

“Answers,” the leader asks. “You know where the resistance is hiding out.”

The second one crosses his arms over his chest. “Tell us where their headquarters are.”

She spits down at their feet. “Suck my dick.” A moment, a pause before a backhand sends her careening to the side, chair tipping slightly and she growls, turning back to face him with blood dripping down her split lip; she licks it, the wound stings but it burns in a way she likes. “Your dad hit me harder than that last night,” she cracks back, and the man grabs at her chin, hauling her upright until they’re nose to nose.

“I will make you scream in ways you’ve never imagined.”

“That’s what I told your mom before I—”

His other hand reaches for her combat vest, and she thrashes as he undoes it and yanks it open; he’s centimeters from the thin tank top she wears and only then does Ghost make a single noise, the scraping of a chair, fingers clenching white on the arm rest as he snarls, “Touch her and I’ll fucking smear the goddamn walls with you.”

It’s not a threat. It’s a fucking warning. One not to be ignored.

The man pauses, looks to the side, sees Ghost’s golden eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. His breathing isn’t labored. It’s calm. Deadly calm. And the man, taking in the sunken nose of Ghost’s full-face mask, the raised skeletal plates, decides perhaps this isn’t a fight he really wants neither then nor later.

He lets her go and she sinks back into her chair, but Ghost’s eyes don’t leave the man even as he slinks behind his commander. The ropes at his wrists strain under Ghost’s flexing forearms and she hums low in her throat.

“Easy,” she murmurs. “Not here.”

This time Ghost eyes both of the enemy captors, and he answers, a barely-contained, seething rage in his chest and out of his throat, “I’ll fucking kill any bastard that touches what’s mine.” He snarls beneath the mask, and she feels it deep in her chest, the sound reverberating through her. “I’ll fucking rip your guts out through your back. Touch her again. I dare you.”

This time, even the commander shifts nervously on his feet, and he clears his throat in an exaggerated fashion to ease whatever fear is ebbing in his stomach as he turns to the second and says, “We’ll come back with more questions.”

“Don’t keep us waiting long,” she retorts, watching them leave and as the door shuts and locks, she reaches out, brushing her fingers against Ghost’s knuckle and all at once, he relaxes his grip. “Easy, Simon,” she calms, and he lets out a single deep breath.

“I don’t like people touching you.”

“You can’t kill everyone who does,” she jokes, and he looks over at her, his eyes glinting in the light, a solid ring of gold around a deep pit of a void; her throat dries up at the beastly hunger in them, but no fear is in her heart, in fact, quite the opposite.

“I’m the only one allowed to fucking touch you.” He looks down at the silver necklace on her chest. “You’re mine. All. Fucking. Mine.”

She swallows thickly, the S dangling at the apex of her throat feeling like a branding, but it doesn’t hurt, she loves the burn, craves it, wants to drown in it—in him. “Yeah, Simon,” she breathes, heart pounding in her chest. “I’m all yours.”

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Dear author, if you are taking requests can I please get you an extremely rough and wild nsfw with jealous possessive Daemon x fem reader, where he makes her ride it into oblivion (add whatever kink you see fit) please?

Here you go, my friend. I hope this pleases you.

Warnings: Mention of injury, jealous and possessive behaviour, choking, spitting, smut. Word count: ~1100

Daemon’s mood is foul. His temper flares the moment he sees her place her favour onto the lance of that Lannister cunt. While their coupling isn’t public knowledge, she should know better than to entertain the attention of other men, lesser men.

The urge to jump the tilt and storm his way into the ladies court in order to seize her and remind her of who she belongs to is almost overwhelming. He knows he cannot though, so instead sets his sights keenly on his opponent as he sits atop his horse at the opposite end of the tiltyard. The red and gold of the Lannister caparison serves only to further his irritation. The sight of her wreath of flowers dangling from the base of the other man’s lance spurs him into action as he urges his horse to charge forward.

He notices the Lannister swing his lance slightly off target as he canters to meet him, an indication that he is experiencing difficulties and does not want to be hit. Daemon ignores this, striking him square in the breast plate with the tip of his weapon and causing him to fall from his horse with a sickening thud.

The horse master rushes towards the counter tilt. “He requested a mercy pass, Your Highness!”

Daemon lifts his helmet, watching with a smirk as the ground crew rally to help the Lannister Lord to his feet. “Did he now? How careless of me.”

He is badly winded and it is determined that his arret and grapper were not properly attached. The resulting blow from Daemon has likely broken his ribs and he will be unable to continue with the tourney.

Daemon dismounts from his horse with smug satisfaction and strides away from the tiltyard, but not before shooting her a pointed glare over his shoulder. The flicker of fearful recognition that crosses her face is all he needs to know she understands exactly what’s required of her. Don't keep me waiting.

He is stripped of his garniture and reclining in his quarters in his undershirt and breeches when he hears the timid knock at his chamber door.

“Come in.” He instructs flatly.

She enters, head bowed, a look of shy apprehension crosses her features. He feels a swell of pride at her obedience, she’d come just as soon as she could, just like he wanted. Such a shame he’s going to have to punish her for her brazen display at the tourney.

She stands before him, her hands clasped nervously in front of her, waiting for him to speak. He lets her linger in silence for a few moments, enjoying watching her squirm with discomfort. When she finally dares to look up and meet his eye he speaks.

“Have you grown tired of our arrangement?” He asks coldly.

“N-no!” She stammers, stepping forward, her eyes pleading.

He holds up a hand to stop her and she freezes in place, her mouth opening and closing as she struggles to articulate what it is that she wants to say.

“Have you forgotten who it is you belong to?” His gaze is piercing as he glares at her from where he is seated.

“Of course I haven’t.” Her voice is meek and apologetic.

“Then tell me, little one, why the fuck you thought it was acceptable to give your favour to that Lannister cunt?!” His voice raises in anger as he interrogates her, his grip on the arms of the chair causing his knuckles to turn white.

Her lip trembles and for a moment he is sure she will cry, until her jaw sets in bratty defiance. “I couldn’t very well say no, could I?!” She snaps back, face hot with her own fury. “What would you have me do instead? You insist upon keeping me a secret!”

Incensed with rage he reaches forward, grabbing her forcefully by the wrist and pulling her into his lap. “Don’t you ever talk back to me, fucking brat!”

She squeals as he manhandles her to straddle him, forcing her skirts above her hips and tearing away the gusset of her smallclothes, before unlacing his breeches.

“You need a reminder of who it is you answer to.” He threatens.

His hand moves between her legs and she whimpers, bucking against him. He hums appreciatively at how slick with arousal she is already. Wanton slut.

He pulls his hand away, spitting into his palm and then spreading it through her folds and over his cock. Lining himself up with her entrance, he thrusts upwards, pulling her harshly downward with a steadying hand on her hip.

The stretch feels impossibly tight around him and he groans at the sudden warmth and wetness, delighting in the way she gasps and clutches desperately at his shoulders.

“Not so eager to answer back now you’re stuffed full of my cock, are you?” He snarls, his grip on her hip tightens, using it to aid his movements up into her. His other hand moves to wrap around her throat, squeezing at the sides. “Look at me.”

Her eyes are wide, her face reddening from the restricted blood flow as she whimpers at the brutal pace he has set.

“You are mine, do you understand? Mine.” His fingertips press deeper into the flesh of her neck.

She does her best to nod, clenching around him as he continues to drive up into her over and over.

“Say it.” He hisses, brow furrowing with exertion, stones aching at the way she convulses with each movement.

“I-I am yours.” She stutters breathlessly.

“And could that Lannister twat fuck you like this?” He punctuates his question by tugging her harder and faster against him.

“Just you, only you…” The words tumble from her lips like a chant as her eyes grow glassy.

“Don’t look away.” Daemon orders in a husky whisper.

The only sounds in the room are their combined pants and the slap of flesh on flesh, until finally the heat of his climax licks along his spine and through his balls, he pulls her flush against him as he empties himself inside of her.

She collapses against him and he holds her to his chest as he recovers, stroking his hands softly up and down her back.

“You know,” He says, after a few minutes pass by in silence, “We needn’t keep this a secret forever. I could make you my wife.”

He feels her smile against the scarred flesh of his neck. “Are you saying you love me, Daemon Targaryen?”

He chuckles, delivering a playful swat to her backside. “Don’t push your luck.”

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