#i feel like some of you need to grow up and pump the breaks on the hate parade

[plutoloulou]

Ya'know, if you take your shipping/fanon goggles off, you'd realise canon isn't as bad as you lot make it out to be

Just enjoy the show that's being handed to you cause you can't change the work of the cast and crew

[rosenclaws]

waking up worst!Logan with some head

warnings: minors dni!! 18+ only, oral (m!receiving), throat fucking, dirty talk, fem!reader

a/n: i'm gonna be so fucking real with u guys I woke up horny and so this was born.

It’s not fair how handsome your boyfriend is. Waking up to his firm chest behind your back, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, and his rock hard dick slowly grinding against your ass.

Logan grumbles as you turn around in his arms. Still asleep as he moves to lay flat on his back. Your fingers rake gently along his bare chest and dipping below the covers. Your mouth waters as you lift the covers to see his morning wood in all its fucking glory.

He’s so sweet to you, so desperate to please. It’s time you return the favor. Crawling to the end of the bed you spit on his dick and start to stroke him. Running your thumb over the tip as he shudders. You smirk as you see his eyes flutter open as you kiss the prominent vein that runs down to the base.

“Morning handsome.” You purr as your hand starts to move faster. He props himself up on his elbows to get a better view.

“Good fucking morning to me.” He mumbles as he licks his lips. Logan groans as you dip your head down and lick from the base of his cock to the tip. Tracing a large vein with your tongue.

“Shit,” His head falls back into the pillows as you take the tip of his cock in your mouth. Spit dribbles down your chin as you try and take all of him. He’s big, fuck he’s big and thick and feels so fucking good.

“That’s it baby, you can take it.” It’s been too long since he’s hand someone pleasure him like this. Since anyone’s been willing to show him love like this. You whine as his hand grabs the back of your head, shoving you all the way down on his dick.

“Perfect fucking mouth.” He growls.

Your fingers dig into his thighs as you focus your breathing. Your nose rubbing against his coarse hair as he slowly thrusts into your mouth. You bob your head in time with his thrusts. Swirling your tongue messily, craving a taste of the man before you.

He pulls you off his dick, needing you off before he snapped which you didn't like one bit. You know he's desperate and you want him to break. To beg and take charge, take the pleasure that you're so willingly offering to him.

“Don’t give me that look.” He tuts as he grabs his cock in his hands. Giving it a few hard pumps.

"Please, don't hold back, need you so bad." You whine desperately.

Logan’s eyes grow dark at the filthy sight of you. Spit still connected to his dick, eyes watery with tears. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look this hot. He stands up and gently guides you to the floor. Grabbing your cheeks he squeezes until your lips pucker. He gently runs his cock along your lips.

"Feel how fucking hard you make me." He slowly lets go of your cheeks as he slides is back into your mouth.

"Don't know what you started," You relax your jaw as best you can, your eyes fluttering shut as you take all of him once again. Loving the heavy feeling of him on your tongue. He sighs as his thrusts get faster, harder. Pummeling your poor throat with the tip of his dick.

"Made just to suck my cock right baby? Yeah you fucking are." He shoves your head down as he comes hard in your mouth. You greedily swallow everything he gives you, not wanting to waste a drop. He relents his hold on you only a little, letting you catch your breath for a moment.

"Fuck you're too good to me, so sweet." He lovingly scratches the back of your head. He helps you stand up and lays you on the bed. His lips peppering kisses along your shoulder as his hips grind into your thigh.

"Logan.." You whine as he crawls lower and lower. His shoulder muscles flex as he kneels onto floor. A devious look in his eyes as he spreads your legs.

"You had your breakfast, now let me have mine."

[monamipencil]

study break ! | l.jh

pairings; fem! reader x jihoon | genre; smut, fluff, established relationship, minors do not interact | tw; fingering, pussy slapping, spitting, making out, reader is stressed due to exams, mention of caffeine | a/n; i very much need this lmao and to anyone who has exams coming up, you got this!!

“you said—hungh—only a few minutes!”

the wet sounds of jihoon's fingers fucking your hole fills your ears. your legs are spread wide apart and quivering under the pleasure he brings you.

“well, I didn't see you cum,” he says, though he's well aware that he's currently working on your third orgasm of the evening.

“but I did! ah—fuck, yes there!”

his curled fingers rubbing against that spongy spot has you seeing stars. you grind your clit on the heel of his palm, stimulating the little nub. your lips fall apart, letting out wanton, broken moans with no care. the only thought in your brain belongs to your boyfriend and his fingers.

“feels good?” he purrs, looking down at you with hooded eyes. you nod mindlessly with tears welling up in your eyes. the cold material of your study table feels good against your searing skin.

“good, can't have my baby get all stressed over an exam.”

you whine at the reminder of your dreaded test but it's pushed down when you feel the tight knot in your stomach. jihoon pulls out his fingers to deliver a slap to your cunt. you gasp at that, wanting more of it. he chuckles, looking at your expression.

“want more?” you nod again, absolutely no thoughts other than this god of a man.

he slaps your clit again and spits on it. a mixture of a whine and a gasp escapes your lips when he smears his spit on your folds and rubs your clit harshly.

that prompts you to sit up on your study table, hips bucking into his hands. your notes and books scattered away to avoid any damage to them.

“fuck,” he mutters, eyes skating over your glossy eyes and puffy lips. your eyes flutter shut as you tilt your head, leaning up to him. he takes the cue, and slots his lips on yours. his tongue slips past your lips with practiced ease.

his ministrations on your clit doesn't cease even as he pushes his tongue down your throat. you glide your tongue over his, savoring the warm, wet feeling of it. it only makes you more wet and horny.

your cunt throbs wildly and the knot only grows tighter. you grind your cunt into his hand, chasing the relief you so badly needed. he adds two digits inside you while continuing to thumb your clit. your moans are silenced to hums by his tongue.

and without warning, you reach your orgasm. it throws you over the edge and you curl your arms over his shoulders to prevent yourself from losing it.

his pace slows down as he gently pumps his fingers in and out of you. he breaks the kiss, pulling away to look at you. and the sight in front of him is mesmerizing.

your fucked out expression, your puffy, parted lips, your heaving chest, your quivering legs and your slick cunt. well, shit.

he hisses, feeling this cock throb under his pants but he controls himself. he did it to relieve your stress, not pleasure himself. he won't be selfish now but he can always be later.

with a kiss to your cheek, he walks to grab a towel. he presses the wet cloth on your cunt and wipes off your fluids. jihoon helps you put on your panty and shorts in your dazed state.

“sorry hun,” he presses a kiss to your forehead. “i couldn't help it.”

you chuckle, “it's fine.”

he hums and helps you sit on your comfy chair. your confused eyes follow him as he slips on his jacket and takes his purse. he flashes you a grin, “i'll go buy us some coffee and energy drinks. i'll pull an all-nighter with you, ok?”

you nod and smile, looking at him with literal hearts in your eyes. the apartment door shuts behind him and then only you allow yourself to squeal hit your head against the table.

a permanent smile etches on your lips as you flip through your study material, happy to have a boyfriend like jihoon.

[oceansblvds]

the early morning ; satoru gojo

pairing ; satoru gojo x reader

words ; 703

summary ; a blurb detailing waking up next to satoru gojo.

warning(s) ; slight smut, mentions of marriage, fingering,

it's during the early morning that you consider satoru gojo dutifully and wholly yours.

when you went to sleep in an empty bed and woke up with the first signs of the sun to someone next to you, his white tufts of hair poking out from under the blanket that he used to cover up his face. you wouldn't know when he arrived, probably some time between hours of 3am and 4am, whenever his job allowed for him to gain some type of reprieve.

you would ask him about it later, you supposed, taking the time to admire him, noting the cuts along his long fingers that he used to wrap around your waist. turning ever so slightly in an attempt to not wake him up, you peeked under the covers, seeing his soft eyelashes batted down and hearing his soft breathing breaking through the silence. he slept much like a child, always complaining about his beauty sleep.

as if satoru could sense that you were staring at him, his glowing blue eyes struggled to open, a grumble leaving his lips. "weirdo," he whispered to you, his hands coming and wrapping around your waist, pulling you up on top of him. your hands rested against his broad, naked chest, legs straddling his waist. "watching me sleep?"

"watching you drool," you teased, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his nose. "i just cleaned these sheets, you know."

satoru scrunched up his face, one of his hands coming to press against your upper back, pulling you closer to his body. "i do not drool," he stated. "plus, i'll just buy you new ones anyway."

"you're going to buy more instead of putting them into the wash?" you asked, raising your eyebrows at the laziness that he often presented when it came to normal, mundane tasks such as chores. "you really did grow up rich, didn't you?"

he only hummed, stretching forward and capturing your lips in a kiss, one that was clearly telling you to shut up. it was ever so composing, the dull taste of toothpaste being shared between the two of you, his tongue coming and invading the privacy of your mouth. you tried to gain the upper hand, putting your palm on his cheek and turning your head to deepen the kiss. satoru wasn't having any of it, deciding to distract you with a thrust of his hips forward, making you gasp into his mouth and allow for his tongue to slide further in. the bastard.

you decided to get revenge, rolling your hips, clothed pussy rubbing against his boxers. when you earned a particularly satisfying groan from him, you did it over and over again, using the force of his hands to help guide you to a pleasurable pace. all the while, his lips continued to kiss you. your neck, lips, collarbone, anything he could get them on. he was brutal with his kisses, sucking and biting and claiming you as his own. it was silly, really. his incessant need to continue to mark you as his as if he hadn't already claimed you the moment you two met all those years ago. still, you weren't going to complain.

"if you keep moving, i'm going to cum in my boxers," satoru said into your neck, using his hands to stop your hip movement all together. "and that would really be a shame."

to you, you thought. it would honestly be a compliment to your hip movements if you didn't say so yourself. a giggle left your mouth, one that he swallowed with his own as he pushed you onto your back, hand pushing into your panties to spread around your wetness. if he said something about it, you didn't hear it, too engrossed in his presence and the way that he was making you feel.

and as he pressed two fingers into you, pumping them in and out of you to prep you for yet another round of good morning sex, you thought to yourself how lucky you were to call satoru gojo yours.

and what you didn't know was that last night he was out late to find the perfect ring to ask you to officially call you his.

[moonstruckme]

Hiiiii!!!

I was wondering if you could write a poly!marauders with a reader who gets insecure about her dislikes (degrading, bjs, and rough stuff) during sex and feels guilty after sex bc she feels gross.

Thank youuuuu:3 pls ignore if your uncomfy

Hi, thanks for requesting! I feel like this came out a bit awkward but I tried and I hope you like it :)

cw: smut mdni, discussion (but not portrayal) of blowjobs and degradation, shame around sex

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You’re becoming genuinely worried that Remus and Sirius are going to break the bed. 

Both of them are cursing like sailors, Sirius’ voice climbing higher as Remus rocks both him and you with his thrusting. The bed lurches back and forth, your body jiggling with the movement, and James laughs, dipping down to kiss at the spot beneath your ear. 

“Doing alright, angel?” 

You swallow. “Yeah. Bit worried about the bed. You?” 

He picks his head up to give you a smile, seraphim with a flirtatious edge. “Also worried about the bed, but it’ll go out in style. Personally, I’m doing fantastic.”

You return his grin, and James presses his lips to yours. Lingering, mushy kisses that feel like they’re drawing something out of you as he pumps into you slowly. His hand stokes up and down your side the way he knows you like, grounding you while you arch up into him, affection and pleasure melding in your core until your walls are gripping him with something akin to desperation. The feeling grows steadily, James’ voice becoming hoarse as he spews sweet words and encouragements that get swallowed up by your eager mouth until you both break apart into a thousand shining pieces. 

James’ forehead lands on yours, both of you panting softly into the inch of space between you. His large palm continues to soothe over the now sweat-slick skin of your waist. You realize, distantly, that the sound and movement from the other side of the bed has ceased. Sirius and Remus must have finished before you (by some miracle, the bed seems intact), you’re not sure how long ago. It’s not unusual. You always take longer. 

Sweat and cum cool in your crevices, and a familiar remorse takes root somewhere in your chest, spreading towards your gut. You shut your eyes. You want to clean this up like it never happened. 

“Hey sweetheart, how are we feeling?” James reads your change in mood instantly. His question is painfully gentle as he picks his head up, giving you the bit of space he knows you need. 

“Okay,” you say. 

“Want to have a shower?” Sirius leans over to give your knee a squeeze. His tone carries the dulled worry of routine. “Might make you feel better.” 

You nod. Remus helps you up while James peels his condom off, throwing it in the waste bin. You can’t all fit comfortably in the shower, but you squeeze in anyway, your boyfriends terribly kind as you all clean off, checking in with you periodically. Your smile comes a bit easier, the easy affection between you softening your contrition like it always does. They relax as you do. Soon you feel clean and new, all wrapped up in steam and the love you wonder if you’ll ever be good enough to deserve. 

It’s not until after you’ve toweled off and are sitting on the bed in your pajamas, watching Sirius do his skincare routine, that a different kind of guilt begins to eat at you. 

“Sorry I always make this so difficult,” you blurt.

Sirius looks over at you from the bathroom, foaming cleanser half rinsed off his face. Beside him, James pauses with floss held up in front of him. 

“Uh, what’s difficult?” James asks you. 

“Just, everytime we have sex,” you look down at your hands, hearing the soft shuffle of pages as Remus sets down his book beside you, “you guys do so much to accommodate me.” 

“That’s typically how sex works.” Sirius rolls his eyes, tossing you a smile to mitigate it. 

You return his smile wryly. “You know what I mean,” you say softly. 

“No, come on.” Remus scoots closer until his shoulder is touching yours. “What do you mean, love?” 

You shrug, self-conscious. “Like, how you have to take care of me after because I get weird. And during, I never give blowjobs even though you guys have no problem doing anything for me, and you can’t go as rough with me as you like to. I’m sure it’s frustrating.” 

“Not really, no.” Remus says, and you startle at his matter-of-fact tone. “Anything else?” 

You hesitate. “Well, I hear the stuff you and Siri say to each other. You never say any of that to me, and you know I won’t say it to you.” 

“Yes, James doesn’t like degradation either.” Remus leans back against the headboard, looking thoughtful. “Is that all?” 

“I…” You’d been expecting a bigger reaction, not this almost bored response. “I guess that’s all I can think of right now, yeah.” 

“Well, let us know if you think of any more, because all of that’s just preference, dove.” Remus gives you a kind look, almost pitying. “None of it makes you difficult.” 

You sigh, leaning back beside him. Remus’ hand comes up to stroke your hair. “I just mean that I want you all to be able to do whatever you want to,” you say. “I don’t mean to be so…finicky.” 

“You’re not finicky,” Sirius laughs, coming out of the bathroom. He crawls right over you on the bed, stretching out like a cat and laying down with his head on your lap. “Everyone has preferences. It’d only be weird if you didn’t.” 

“But what about your preferences?” You’re nearly bickering now, frustrated with them for intentionally missing your point. 

“Have you ever thought about the idea that maybe we don’t all like it rough all of the time?” He raises an eyebrow up at you, teasing. James finishes in the bathroom and comes to lean against the doorway, watching the three of you. “If I wanted my hair pulled every time, gorgeous, I don’t think I’d have any hair left.” 

His joking coaxes a smile from you, but it’s tinged with bemusement. Really, you hadn’t thought about it that way. You’d just assumed that anytime they have sex with you, it’s a small sacrifice on their part. They drew the short stick that day. Like he can read your thoughts, Sirius grins. 

“Anyway, know what I like most?” 

“What?” 

“You’re going to hate it,” he warns. 

You almost want to laugh, but you narrow your stare on him. “Go on.” 

“Knowing that we’re making you feel good.” 

A derisive snort leaves you before he’s even finished the sentence. You roll your eyes. “You’re right, that’s awful.” 

“It’s the truth, though.” James holds his hand up beside him. “Scout’s honor.” 

“Were you ever in boy scouts?” Remus asks quietly, almost to himself. Sirius shakes his head in your lap, but shrugs like that’s not really relevant. 

“Honestly, sweetheart, you make it sound like being with you is some kind of chore,” James says, ignoring them both. “Do you think you’re the only one who can say if you don’t like something?” You blink in surprise, but he goes on. “If we weren’t having a good time, we would tell you. Promise.” 

“Scout’s honor,” Remus mimics from beside you. “You’re not the only one who likes to be treated gently, dove. The rest of us might go back-and-forth sometimes, but we all have things we don’t like, alright? It’s no burden to do what’s going to be nice for you, and like Sirius said, making it nice for you is part of the fun.” 

“A big part,” Sirius agrees. 

“Okay,” you say, softening a bit. “Okay, but what about after? None of the rest of you need to be coddled.” 

“How do you figure?” James asks interestedly. “Sirius is the biggest pillow princess I ever saw. He needs to be carried out of bed after, or have you never noticed?” 

“Oi, you try being thrown around like you two do to me and see how you feel after!” Sirius glowers. “Dollface, you get it, right?” 

You laugh, because you don’t, that’s the point, but Remus speaks again before you can tell him so. “Sweetheart, we all have our things we need afterward. And yeah, I think we all hope that someday you don’t feel so bad about yourself right after, but we’re happy to take care of you anyway.” 

You scrutinize him, looking for a lie in his placid features. “Really? You don’t mind?” 

“Yeah, really, idiot.” Sirius pinches meanly at your stomach. “You’re our baby, of course we don’t mind. Stop asking silly questions.” 

“Let her ask what she wants, twat,” James says, starting towards the bed, and Remus gives Sirius’ thigh a reprimanding flick with his middle finger. It doesn’t look very hard, but Sirius squawks in protest and glares at him anyway. “Nobody minds taking care of you, angel,” James goes on, scooching into bed beside you. “That’s what we do, right? You’ve never complained about taking care of us.” 

“I guess,” you give in, laying your head on his shoulder. 

James rests his cheek atop your hair in return. You can feel the movement of his jaw as he speaks. “We’re all allowed to like what we like,” he vows, then lowers his voice conspiratorily. “But you and I are on the right side of things, sweetheart. The things those two say to each other are depraved.”

[johnbrand]

Right Kind of People

Dalton and Eli ambled into the locker room, exhausted after their workout. They had been coming to the gym for a few weeks, so while they could feel they were making progress, they could not yet see it. The couple had made a pact to start exercising more seriously before their wedding, hoping to have the best bodies possible by picture time.

“Hey, has this mirror always been here?” Dalton asked, pointing to the subject in question. It was a full floor-to-ceiling mirror, nothing extraordinary about it beside its size. 

“I read something in the monthly email,” Eli replied, rubbing some water on his face before coming over. “They're trying to class up the place to ‘lure’ in the right kind of people.”

Dalton scoffed, posing obnoxiously. “I bet the people they’re 'luring' for are some more obnoxious hetero gym-bros.” At about average height and a little pudgy, Dalton’s flexing appeared silly and foreign to his body.

Eli laughed at the joke, twisting his cap around to add to his fiancé's bit. “I’d need a sweet flow to grow out underneath this hat and then we’d be set.” Eli was the shorter and skinnier of the two, but otherwise there was not that much difference between them. They looked pretty similar, and dressed alike too. Even now they wore matching baggy tanks and shorts that went just past the knees.

“Yeah, we’d need like uh…some more poses too,” Dalton attempted to add, occupied by his reflection in the mirror.

“Sure,” Eli chuckled. “That way we could flex for our narcissistic selves even longer, right?”

Eli paused for a confirmation, but received nothing. He glanced at Dalton, noticing he was still flexing.

“Dalton?”

It took Dalton a moment to break from his haze, although not entirely. He was still making eye contact with himself when he replied: “...what? Oh, sorry bro.”

“Bro?” Eli questioned, now a little confused. Scanning over his partner, he began to feel even more uneasy. Were Dalton’s arms always so…carved? They appeared huge. And those legs too, the peaks and valleys of muscles appeared to be inching up the shorts. It was almost like Dalton was growing taller before his very eyes, the bottoms now barely reaching past half the upper leg.

“You gonna stop checking me out, dude?” Dalton grumbled, his voice a little deeper.

“Huh?”

“Look at yourself, bro,” Dalton nodded his head forward, insisting for Eli to flex in the mirror as well. Having no reason not to, Eli followed Dalton’s instruction. He made eye contact with his small body, which next to Dalton appeared like a baby brother rather than a boyfriend. Speaking of Dalton, Eli could have sworn he had buzzed his hair less than a week ago. Now however it had fluffed out in the front like one of those douchey TikTokker cuts.

“Bro, stop pissing around and check your own gains,” Dalton grunted, his baritone now aggressive. Eli complied, and to his surprise, found he was looking a little more built too. His calves were looking meatier, filling out into diamonds with carpets of hair dusting them. They appeared longer too, but that may have been because he was wearing some slutty short-shorts. Nothing too faggy, but just enough to grab the right kind of attention.

Eli blinked, trying to process where that slur had come from. But for some reason, it just felt…right? Like, correct. Like how his smoking abs displayed underneath his tight pecs. Or how his structured frame stood just a little taller than Dalton, both of them over six feet. Or the curve of his bis and tris always visible, even when not flexed.

Although when they were, you could get a real good whiff of his pits. Eli snook a sniff…yeah, real manly funk with just a hint of Old Spice. Once he pulled his nose away from his pit, he was able to check out his sick flow and how it perfectly curled out beneath his backwards cap.

“Yeah bro, this pump was insane!” Dalton guffawed. “The chicks are gonna love us.”

Eli’s head was momentarily pulled away from self-adoration. Why was Dalton thinking about hooking up with girls? Weren’t they…bros…? Yeah, they were best bros. And the thought of sucking on a girl's juicy tits right now made his big ole dick hard. Eli smirked to himself, growing hard while continuing to flex in the mirror. He could go for some pussy right now. Pussy was just meant for his cock…

After a notable amount of time still displaying themselves for themselves, the newly-minted straight douchebags left the gym. They had hookups ready before they even made it back to their cars.

Although it was a mirror, Dalton and Eli would have never known it was only one-way. Behind the glass was a massive television displaying hypnotic tracks and visuals 24/7. One only needed to gaze in the mirror for a few moments before becoming captured. And unfortunately for the former gay couple, Dalton had got it right; the gym was trying to lure in their perfect market: obnoxious hetero gym-bros.

[moonchild9350]

His Deviant Girl

Summary: Chan teaches you if you do wrong, you must get punished.

Pairing: idol soft dom Chan x fab reader

Genre: smut- 18+ please MDNI

Word Count: 1553

Warnings: masturbation, fingering, squirting, edging, daddy kink, use of term baby girl, dirty talk

Note: idk man, just a look into the inner workings of my mind haha. Mean and unbothered Chan has me in a chokehold right now.

Likes, reblogs, and comments appreciated:) If you'd like to be added to the taglist, please let me know (age must be in bio or pinned to be added)

This is not how Chan is in reality, this is solely for fun.

Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission ©moonchild9350 (2024)

Chan was late coming home. This wasn’t a new occurrence, but tonight you wished he was here. You needed some help from your boyfriend.

You came to his dorm right before he was due home, but as the minutes which turned to hours passed, you became antsy, checking in with Chan to see when he would be home. He told you soon and to wait for him, and you wanted to wait, you were his good girl, but your desperation got the better of you.

That’s how you ended up on Chan’s bed, the door to his room closed. You were naked, fingers dragging up and down your belly, shivers running up and down your spine at the light touch. You let out a sigh, the need growing stronger. You brushed your fingers over your nipples, the mounds becoming more hard and erect with each touch, before pinching one of the nipples, the pain causing your to moan out softly.

You slid your hands down, down, down, until you reached your thighs, the light touch feeling like heaven. Gliding your fingers to your mound, you gently stroked a finger through your folds, a whine falling from your lips, trying to stay quiet. You dipped your fingers through your folds again and again, gathering the slick that was beginning to leak from your pussy. With another swipe from your entrance, you brushed your fingers against your clit, before circling your finger once, twice against the bud.

You swiped once more at your clit before bringing your fingers back to your entrance, sliding one finger in, then two, pumping them in and out of your pussy lazily. You closed your eyes and relaxed against the pillow, letting the pleasure spread throughout your body as you pumped your fingers in and out of your walls, trying to keep silent. You brought your other hand down to your pussy, taking two fingers to circle your clit once more, your other hand never breaking rhythm as you fucked yourself with your fingers.

You felt your orgasm approaching, as you rocked your hips up and down, up and down, the pleasure mounting. You wished it were Chan’s fingers making you feel good, your mind running rampant with how he would touch you, kiss you, and help you reach your release.

With another circle of your clit, you were about to let go, before the door to Chan’s room swung open, the man himself entering the room and slamming the door behind him. He looked at you, lust in your eyes but also pain as you felt your orgasm slip away. Chan tsked and shook his head, looking slightly annoyed.

“Now baby girl, are you supposed to be touching yourself?”

You whimpered out as Chan walked over and slapped your hands away from your pussy. He laid next to you, looking you in the eye, his eyebrow raised, waiting for your response.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

You shook your head no, letting out a whimper, “No Channie.”

“No who? Wanna try that again?”

“No daddy,” you responded, squirming around, looking for friction. You went to sit up, but Chan pushed you back down before spreading your legs open again.

“You need to be punished baby girl. You know I’m the only one who can touch this pussy, but you just couldn't wait” he said. “Now keep those legs spread open just like that. No touching, keep those hands at your side. I have some work to do.”

Chan proceeded to grab his laptop and opened it to get started on work. He turned on his stereo, music softly playing in the background. You watched him work, as he typed away on his computer, not looking at you or giving you attention. You let out a whine at the feeling of more arousal leaking out of your pussy, wanting to bring your hands down to where you needed them most. Just one touch, you thought, just one, as you slowly reached down to touch your clit. Chan caught you at the last minute, slapping your hand away once more.

“What did I say hmm? Did I say you can touch?”

Letting out a wail, you whispered no, bringing your hands back down to your side. You sat like that for who knows how long, the sheets below you a mess at this point. You clenched your pussy around nothing, trying to get any relief from your plight.

Finally Chan closed his laptop and set it on the bedside table. You looked over at him, tears forming in your eyes, your lip quivering, and in need of his attention. Chan laid on his side to face you, giving you a smirk.

“Have you learned your lesson?” Chan asked.

You quickly nodded your head, “yes daddy, I…I leaned my lesson,” you replied, a little hiccup falling from your mouth.

“Hmm, daddy had to punish you because this is my pussy and only mine to touch.”

You hummed in response, “It’s yours daddy, your pussy. Please, please need your fingers,” you begged.

Chan lifted his arm and brought it to your thigh, brushing his hand up and down your leg. He slowly made his way to your core, ghosting his fingers against your mound, little whimpers falling from your lips.

Finally, he dragged two of his fingers through your folds before bringing them to your clit, rubbing gentle circles. You let out a moan at the feeling of his hands, gently rocking your hips upwards. Slowly, he dragged his fingers down your folds again before inserting his fingers into your entrance, sliding them between your wet walls.

After a few pumps, Chan curled his fingers upward, rubbing against your sweet spot. He sped up his pace, squelching sounds from how wet your pussy was spreading throughout the room. Chan did not let up, keeping a steady rhythm. You rocked your hips with each thrust, feeling the coil in your belly tighten. You subconsciously brought your finger down to your clit, giving it a few tweaks.

Chan stopped abruptly, withdrawing his fingers from you.

"No, no, no, daddy why!" you wailed, your orgasm fading away again.

"You never learn do you baby girl. You must not want daddy to play with your pussy."

You shook your head, more tears forming in your eyes. You reached out to touch his arm, a silent plea in your eyes. Chan ignored you, grabbing his laptop once more to get some work done. Chan was punishing you and you knew it, but you just couldn't help yourself.

You laid there, legs spread wide, arms at your side, looking at Chan, hoping he would turn his head to see what a good girl you were being, but of course he didn't.

More time passed before Chan sighed, turning to you, "Are you gonna let daddy play with this pussy? Will you behave now?"

You nodded your head, spreading your legs even wider.

Chan brought his fingers back down to your pussy, fingers slipping from the slick smeared all over your pussy. He pushed two fingers once more into your entrance, pumping them in and out before adding a third. You sighed at the stretch, happy that his fingers were back between your legs.

He dragged his fingers against your walls, curling them up to find your sweet spot once more. Chan rubbed and rubbed against your sweet spot, pressing into it a few times, your hips bucking up at feeling. He brought his fingers to your clit, rubbing the bud. Slick was leaking out of your pussy, causing a mess, so wet, squelching sounds could once more be heard each time Chan's finger's dragged through your heat. He sped up the pace again, steady moans falling from your lips, the pitch of your moans increasing, your orgasm approaching.

“Daddy’s making this pussy wet hm? Whose pussy it is baby girl?”

You only let out a groan, not able to form a coherent sentence.

“What was that?” Chan teased.

“Mghh yours…ah..yours daddy. All yours!” You managed to say.

“Yes baby girl, all daddy’s. Do you wanna cum, I can tell you’re close baby. Daddy can always tell.”

“Let me cum! I’ll be a good girl, “ you whimpered, your orgasm was close, just a few more pumps and…

“Cum baby girl, yes that’s it, let it all out,” Chan said, watching as you came, your release gushing out onto his hands and into the sheets. He watched as your thighs spasmed, toes curling, as he continued to press into your sweet spot, helping you ride out your high.

Feeling your orgasm subside, you let out the breath you were holding, your eyes closing briefly before turning to look at Chan. You watched as he withdrew his fingers from your pussy, bringing them to his lips, licking your arousal clean off his fingers.

He withdrew his fingers from his lips with a pop, reaching over to brush the hair out of your face.

“I hope you learned your lesson, let’s not let it happen again ok?”

“Yes daddy,” you responded, giving Chan a weak smile.

He smiled back at you. “Now let’s get you cleaned up,” he said getting up from the bed.

You nodded ok, thinking your plan worked better than expected. You were Chan’s deviant baby girl after all.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @thesilvernight0wl

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch 26]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 3.6k

ao3 link

Depression is a funny little emotion.

It starts as a seed planted in your stomach by some inconsequential action that slowly grows throughout the day until it is strangling you. Tendrils sprout and creep up your sternum, creeping through your airway and constricting your lungs, making it just a little harder to breathe. Your chest feels tight and no amount of closing your eyes and counting slowly will make the feeling go away. The vines go for your heart next - weaving between the arteries and veins and squeezing until you are hyper aware of every beat it makes. 

You know you cannot let anyone know what germinates inside of you, so for hours and hours and hours do you pretend you can function properly. You ignore how heavy your heart feels or how much your throat stings. You turn off the urge to cry and scream and beg because you know there is no point to it. There is no relief. No amount of comfort will free you from the jungle forming inside of you. All you can do is wait.

Wait until you are finally alone, and the growth is finally allowed to bloom in your brain. Thorns pierce you, pumping their poison into your thoughts. Sap leaks from your eyes as stems force their way up your throat until leaves sprout from your mouth. You are consumed from the inside out until you are a hollow husk of a person.

And who would want to be around that?

Who would want you?

No one is the answer.

 It has always been no one. 

Your parents were the first to show you the truth. There was no care or comfort in your childhood - you were set aside and ignored.

You’ve never blamed them for this. As much as it hurt and as much as it messed with your self-worth, you’ve always understood they were not meant to be parents. You are sure they loved you in their own way, but the lack of affection left your soul to wilt.

College was no better. You made a few friends but quickly learned the meaning of superficial. They did not have time for your awkwardness and personal issues - this was their time to grow and blossom. So, you buried yourself in your studies and were always grateful when they were kind enough to invite you somewhere. 

When you started having romantic relationships they warped your mind even more. A few sweet words would lure you in, then you would become a caretaker and a warm body. Their needs were always top priority and yours were never to be acknowledged. You were strung along to a breaking point or told you were no longer needed, even when you were still heart eyed over them.

A few rounds of this showed you your niche in the world. 

You’re a background character. A friend of a friend’s girlfriend. A one-night stand. Minnie’s mom. 

You don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. You are meant to assist others - meant to raise your daughter to her full potential. 

You’ve long accepted this, which makes it all that much harder when Matt smiles at you like he does. 

You believe he cares for you - he is full of love - but you know there isn’t anything deeper in it. 

You are the mother of his child, a child he is head over heels for - it is natural for him to grow affectionate towards you. He finds you physically and sexually attractive and you yearn for that.

But you know you are nothing but a placeholder.

You have his attention now and you want to bask in it, but next week, next year, or maybe in two years, that attention will move onto someone who deserves it. Someone who is exciting as he is - someone who is smart and passionate. Someone who understands his life and what being Daredevil entails. Someone who cares about the injustices on the streets and does something about it.

Someone who isn’t broken. 

Someone who isn’t a shell going through the motions. 

Someone who isn’t you.

You want to cover your ears and pretend you don’t know the truth. You want to bury yourself in the three little words you thought you heard, but you know you can’t. 

You can’t do that to yourself again. You can’t handle another heartbreak. Another disappointment.

Another reminder you are Nothing. 

You can allow yourself to enjoy your time - enjoy the touches and kisses and moans - but your heart must remain locked away. 

Matt can have all of you but that. If you allow yourself to have hope it will hurt all the more when you have to let him go. 

And you’ll let him go easily when that time comes. You’ll step aside without a fight because his relationship with Minnie is more important than you will ever be, and you are not going to be the reason for a rift between them. You are not going to deny Matt time with his daughter because his destiny is with someone else. 

It will hurt, but it has never mattered if you hurt.

You just want them to be happy.

----

The progress bar on your screen is finally full and you now have the option to select ‘continue with install’. You click on the button, then warily eye your laptop as new windows pop up with technical information you do not care about. 

Work is pushing a bunch of new updates through their system, and because you are remote, you have to play IT to get your machine up to spec. They sent you an email with everything you need to do, which is to sit back and click a few prompts, but they failed to mention the process would take hours and that your laptop would be useless during that time. 

It is nearing two in the morning, and you are starting to run out of steam and patience. 

Between installs and reboots, you have cleaned pretty much everything in your apartment that you could without risking waking Minnie up. You did dishes and dusted. You cleaned out the pantry and washed the windows. You even swept the carpet to get out any lingering dog hair.

You’ve tried to sit and watch something, but it left you fidgety and you couldn’t pay attention to what was being said and you had no chance in hell of following a plot. You attempted to play around on your phone, but you became angry at yourself for not having the funds to buy things that were advertised to you. After Minnie’s birthday and your hospital bill, your bank account was getting dangerously low.

You want to turn off your brain and do your job. You don’t have to Think when combing through orders and producing invoices. 

You don’t want to Think anymore. You are so tired of Thinking. 

You slump into your chair and bury your face into your hands. You’ve got no way to calculate how much longer all this technical setup is going to take or how much longer you are going to have to stay up. The only relief you have is knowing you are being paid for this time, since the email specifically told you to be on the clock while running everything. 

You debate going over to the couch and trying to nap. You could set an alarm so you can periodically check on your computer, but you might disturb your sleeping toddler. The alert could be set to vibrate only, but would that wake you up if you really fell asleep?

Your only solution is to stay awake and try to find something to do to distract yourself. 

As you start to consider deep cleaning the linen closet, your phone lights up with a call from an unsaved number. It takes but a moment for you to recognize the sequence and your heart leaps into your throat as you answer.

“Hello?”

“You’re up late,” Matt teases as a greeting, his voice a few octaves lower than normal and sending a delightful sort of chill up your spine. “Working hard?”

“Hardly working,” you groan in response, but the mere fact he is calling has your lips turning up into a small smile. “My computer is doing updates and I’m waiting for it to finish. It’s been going for hours.”

Matt hums in sympathy and you wonder if he is just getting home. The fact he is a superhero is still very hard for your mind to wrap around. Sweet Matt, who lets his daughter put star stickers all over his face, is the same man who so routinely breaks people’s arms that local ER staff have a monthly betting pool about it - a little fact you learned from Karen. The man in videos dangling someone off a high rise or a bridge is the same man who becomes a clingy octopus when asleep. 

You understand his need to protect the city and you admire it, but fear and uncertainty gather in your belly when you think about Matt out on the rooftops. You are terrified of him getting hurt, despite the fact you trust him and his abilities. You know there is always a bigger threat out there as well as the possibility of an accident. Matt may be amazing, but he can’t fight a random act of God.

Three light knocks from behind you rip your thoughts and you turn in your chair to see Daredevil, in all his red suit glory, standing on your fire escape. He cheekily waves at you as he snaps his flip phone shut and stores it in a hidden pocket. You scramble up and over to the window, yanking it open. He waits patiently, though a bit smugly by the smirk on his lips, as you figure out how to remove the screen. He climbs through with ease and once he is inside, he starts removing his gloves and helmet.

“What are you doing here?” you ask as you close the window again. You aren’t opposed to him coming by, but this is the first time he’s done so, and you aren’t exactly sure of the protocol. Is it a social visit? Does he have some Daredevil news to share with you?

Before he replies, he shakes his head much like a wet dog would. His hair is damp with sweat and the skin that was previously covered is glistening. There is a slight tint of red to his usual paleness and you wonder if he is hot to the touch as well. You try not to squirm at the thought.

“I always check on you before ending patrol,” he finally says, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. He sets his helmet, gloves, and batons on the window-blocking table, then steps to you, reaching up to cup your cheeks when close enough. “I need to make sure my girls are okay.” 

The words come out of him so easily and you want to melt into them like you do with his touch, but your mind is quick to remind you that you’ve given him reason to have to check up on you. This isn’t him being sweet - it is him making sure you haven’t somehow managed to kill yourself. 

Before you can mentally chastise yourself and pull away, Matt is closing the distance. He brings you into a sweet and slow kiss and for a few wonderful moments, your mind goes quiet. His lips are so soft against yours and you can just barely taste the salt from the sweat that has dripped down his face. It ends far too soon, and you try to tell yourself you are not disappointed.

Your thoughts kick back into hyper drive, and as you notice how damp Matt’s hair really is you imagine he would appreciate some cold water. You gently pull away from him, turning as you do to head towards the kitchen. 

“Did anything interesting happen tonight?”

“Nothing out of the usual,” he answers as he moves to follow you. “There was a kid breaking into cars that stuck out, though. He should probably be on his school’s track team if he isn’t already - he made me work to be able to catch him. It was actually a little impressive.”

That would explain the sweat then. It is already warm out and racing through the streets in leather sounds exhausting. It makes you want to shower just hearing about it.

You find Matt’s designated cup and fill it using the pitcher in the fridge. As you pass it over to him, you question, “what did you do once you caught him?”

He doesn’t answer, instead taking the water and downing it all in just a few gulps. Since it is clear he is in need of it, you quickly refill the glass.

“I gave him a warning and let him go,” Matt says after taking another sip, “He seemed like a good kid just getting into the wrong things. I think being chased by the Devil will scare him off crime, at least for a while.”

That warms your heart a little - you like Matt’s sense of justice and how he does not have a hard stance on what is black and white. He truly wants to help the community and not rule it. 

You have to turn away as he drinks his second glass of water. You want those brief moments of mental silence back and watching his throat work only makes you want to kiss him again. You think he wouldn’t mind it if you threw yourself at him, but it isn’t the time or place, and honestly you are a bit scared of the idea that has that kind of effect on you. 

It is something to crave and ask for and get addicted to. If he can turn off your brain so easily, all you will want to do is touch him.

Ever on high alert, you see Matt roll his neck and shoulders as he goes to put his glass into the sink. The movements look a little stiff and anxiety takes hold as you hyper analyze every movement he makes, “Are you alright?”

He pauses at the question, clearly confused by it. He tilts his head back and forth in minute ways like he does when he’s searching for something before answering you. 

“Why do you ask?”

You feel yourself start to flush at the counter, feeling a little silly. If there was anything actually wrong with him, he has a competent nurse on call, but you can’t stop your worry. It courses through you like your blood and you know it will fester and nag if you have any doubt. But you are still hesitant as you vaguely motion to your own neck, “I don’t know, you were out all night. I just…I want to make sure you’re, okay?”

You know that Matt is analyzing you, listening for something you’ll never hear. His lips dip into a frown for a microsecond before lifting up into that soft, beautiful smile you are becoming so fond of. “I’m fine, darling. Just a little stiff is all. It’s hard to have good posture when crouching on a rooftop.”

You take in the words, and you can easily picture Matt on the edge of a building, sitting like a gargoyle. It does ease your own tension that he isn’t injured, but your head just keeps spinning. 

Matt came all the way into Chelsea to check on you, the least you could do is make it worth his while. Offering yourself up for sex doesn’t feel appropriate at the moment, but you have more up your sleeve than just that.

The words tumble out of you before the idea is fully formed, “Do you want a massage?”

The shock on Matt’s face is nearly priceless. His brows shoot up his forehead and his mouth parts just slightly and a small voice in the back of your head wonders if anyone has ever offered him one before. You know his upbringing was as barren as yours, but given he is a fighter, you would have guessed someone would have given him one. 

Finally, he nods, his smile starting to come back, “That sounds amazing. If it’s okay with you - I know it’s getting late.”

“I’ll be up anyways,” you tell him quickly, not wanting him to think it is any inconvenience to you. “And it sounds more enjoyable than more cleaning.”

“Okay.” His boyish grin gets even bigger, and your stomach does a funny twist. “Where do you want me?”

You direct him to sit in front of the couch, on the ground, and as he removes the top half of his armor, you go to fetch wet wipes and lotion. You do not want to be rubbing Matt’s sweat all over his back - you are going to be trying to help him relax and that is a little bit disgusting. 

As you come back to the living room, you have to remind yourself you aren’t supposed to throw yourself at him. It is not fair how good he looks shirtless - he’s well defined and muscular, but not so overly buff it is gross. It’s clear his muscles are for athletics and not to show off how cool he is. His scars only emphasize that. You have no idea how he got them all, but you very much want to lay him down and run your tongue over each and every one. 

Your view changes as Matt plops himself down in front of the couch, seemingly unaware of your various mental crises. You tell yourself to Behave before your feet start moving again. When you get to the couch, you maneuver yourself to be behind Matt and have to bat away all your thoughts again at the sight of his shoulders.  

You force yourself to focus on the task in front of you. As you grab the wet wipe to start cleaning off Matt’s back, you advise him, “Let me know if I go too hard or if anything starts to hurt, okay?”

Beneath your hands, he huffs, “Darling, I don’t think you’ll be able to hurt me. If anything, the harder, the better.”

Your face heats up a little at his words. You remember he said something similar when over you on the couch just a few nights ago. He likes things a little rough. 

Once his shoulders are mostly sweat free, you get to work. 

You start with smoothing your hands down his neck, then fanning out to the edge of his shoulders and back. You aren’t exactly an expert at this, but long ago in college, one ex liked to play video games while you rubbed his shoulders and you had done your fair share of research to make sure you were doing it right. You still remember most of the tips. 

You add some of Minnie’s scent free baby lotion to your hands, then dig your thumbs into Matt’s neck. The muscles are tight and as you begin to push and pull at them, a deep, pleased groan comes from the man under you.

“Mmm, that feels so good.”

You can’t help but smile at the praise and it only encourages you to make sure the entire experience is enjoyable. 

It is surprisingly easy for you to get completely lost in the massage. You focus in on one area and mentally picture different little arrows telling you to rub up this way or swirl your thumbs in a certain motion. Matt’s shoulders quickly become a grid for you to complete and not a laborious task of trying to bond. 

Under your unskilled fingers, the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen melts. Whenever you find a knot - and there are many - he grunts and sighs and you can tell he is starting to relax. The tension in his shoulders fade and you actually get to see the moment his jaw unclenches. He opens his mouth and scrunches his nose, making the apples of his cheeks plump up. You peek at the television to catch his reflection and your heart warms at the pleased look on his face.

You wonder if it would be possible to get him to fall asleep like this and decide that is a challenge for another day. Right now, you want to pamper him. 

You slowly work your fingers back up towards his neck, then decide to take a chance based on what you know he likes. 

As you reach his hairline, you tilt your fingers forward so your nails are against his skin, then begin to slowly scritch at his scalp like he’s an overgrown cat. 

The results are instantaneous. Matt pushes his head into the touch, a low guttural moan coming up from his throat. 

It is Filthy. It goes right to your core, making you clench around nothing, and you can’t stop yourself from asking in a soft, teasing voice, “Feel good?”

He hums in an affirmative, tilting his head back far enough that he needs to lean against the couch for support. You keep your fingers where they are, as it's clear he is trying to direct you to where it feels the best - the top of his head. You scritch there, smiling as you fluff up his hair even more. 

Matt looks absolutely blissed out - his eyes are closed, his lips are parted, and you are pretty sure if you keep at this, he might just turn into Jello. 

Which is exactly what you want. 

He works so hard for everyone, running himself into the ground to bring justice to Hell’s Kitchen, and you think he needs some time to just relax. 

So, you begin to plan.

As you gently drag your nails through Matt’s hair, you let your mind begin to think up ideas for a nice family spa day while your laptop and dark thoughts sit on the dining room table, forgotten about.

---

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[georgeclarkesgf]

a request for maybe some george smut after he comes back from the useless hotline tour that we werent able to go on ?? so like he hasnt seen us in a while

the second george steps into his bedroom, he drops his bags and heads for the shower. he knows you're on your way over, having been waiting by your phone all day for him to let you know he's back. so when your phone dinged, you were already halfway out the door, tripping over your own feet trying to get there as soon as possible.

conveniently, you live about a ten-minute walk away, meaning you're used to seeing george every day. the two weeks he and max had been on tour were difficult, but you tried to make the best out of the situation and would call each other whenever you could.

a few minutes after he had got in the shower, you're at the flat taking the familiar path to his room. your heart pounds in anticipation as you undress quickly after closing the door, glad you'll finally be with him again.

the warm air surrounds you when you step inside the bathroom and lazily drag your eyes over his body. he's standing under the water, eyes closed and head thrown back, making you think of the more sinful times you'd seen him in this position.

"hi george." you say, a smile breaking out on his face when he sees you.

"hi darling. come here." he replies, arms outstretched toward you.

you step into the shower, letting him pull you into him as you wrap your arms around his neck. his arms tighten around you and you close your eyes, water cascading over you both. a comfortable silence sets in and several minutes pass before either of you speak.

"wish you could've come with us, you have no idea how much i missed you. i even struggled to fall asleep." george admits, his cheeks turning slightly red at the confession.

"really?" you raise your eyebrows at him to which he nods, "i missed you too. had to cuddle the teddy you got me instead. wasn't the same."

your hands untangle from his hair and cup his jaw, connecting your lips in a kiss. as the water continues to flow, the kiss grows more passionate. george's hands travel further down, one landing on your ass and squeezing it, the other pressed flat against your lower back to pull you closer to him.

"george," you don't mean for it to come out so breathless, but when his lips detach from yours to trail kisses down your neck, you can't help it, "you've literally just stepped through the door."

"mhm. but, i also currently have my sexy, loving, amazing girlfriend, who i've missed so much, naked in my shower. so, i don't understand the issue." he counters, making you giggle.

two fingers make their way between your legs and start toying with your clit before sliding into you, the sudden stretch causing your knees to buckle. you can feel his cock against your thigh, so you begin pumping him at the same pace he's fingering you, steadily building up your orgasm.

he curls his fingers, repeatedly hitting that spot inside you and your orgasm washes over you within minutes, hands scratching at his back. your eyes squeeze shut and you clench around his fingers, moans filling the room while you ride out your high.

"fuck, baby." you pant, trying to catch your breath.

a proud smirk is plastered on george's face, "you good?"

"so good. your turn."

you go to drop to your knees to return the favour, but he's quick to stop you and shake his head. when a pout appears on your lips, he kisses it away.

"as amazing as that would be, i need to be inside you, like now." he pleads and grips your hips, moving you until your back is pressed against the shower wall.

contradicting his words, he slowly drags his cock through your folds, letting the tip bump your clit a few times. but you're impatient, so you replace his hand with yours and align him with your entrance, jaw dropping as he pushes in.

"fuck, you feel so good, shit." he groans, hands on your hips keeping you steady while he fucks up into you.

he starts off slow, letting you adjust, but as your moans and whimpers grow more desperate, so do his thrusts. the only two words leaving your mouth are 'fuck' and 'george', his ego growing and determination to make you cum doubling.

a particularly harsh thrust has you crying out, holding onto him tighter. the sound of skin slapping echoes around the bathroom, more than likely being heard over the water that's still running.

"you close darling, yea? you gonna cum?" he leans down, connecting your lips once again, not giving you time to respond.

the knot in your stomach is dangerously close to snapping and he knows, one of his hands leaving your hips to rub tight circles on your clit.

"please george." you whimper, clenching around him so tight he swears his brain short circuits.

"cum for me."

a whine escapes your lips and you throw your head back, letting your second orgasm take over your body. his rhythm falters as you cum around him, raking your nails up his back until they're digging into his shoulders.

george's head drops to your shoulder, thrusting into you a few times before pulling out, spilling over your thighs with a moan. both of your chests are heaving while you try to even out your breathing and he places multiple kisses to your shoulder and neck.

"well, that was quite the welcome home." george chuckles, "might leave more often if that's what i get when i come back."

"don't you dare."

--------

a low whistle comes from behind george as he enters the kitchen. you're curled up in his bed, having had a proper shower after his 'welcome home', and he's gone to grab you some water in just a pair of joggers, not realising bright red scratch marks are all over his back.

"take it y/n is here then?" chris chuckles, eyeing george from the sofa.

"uh, yea? how'd you know?" he furrows his brows in confusion since there's no sign of your things in the kitchen or living room.

before chris can answer, arthur hill walks in, eyes widening when he notices the marks too.

"damn george, what the hell happened to you?"

"y/n." chris replies, not taking his eyes off the tv.

"ah, right." arthur nods in understanding with a smirk on his face.

deciding to ignore their comments, george walks back to his room, being met with your horrified expression when he turns around.

"george! did you actually go to the kitchen like that?" you groan and he nods, confused, "there's marks all over your back. it's so obvious we've just fucked."

well, that explains it.

a/n not proofread sorry <33 hope you enjoyed!

[mmogurl]

Dragonseed Chapter 2 : Coveted

18+ | 3.0k | Daemon Targaryen X Female Reader | dangerous, sex-crazed, raunchy Daemon | hyper possessive behavior, ownership, objectifying, big breast reader, non con, non consensual, P in V, lots of typical Daemon cussing, rough, forceful sex, violence, threats of violence.

Daemon has been feeling a lot better now that he's found you, his Dragonseed. No longer deprived of his carnal appetites, he's been keeping you close by ever since bringing you to work at Dragonstone. You return his generosity by satisfying his every need, although not always in the way you expect to. Daemon is a rather unpredictable man after all. I came up with the idea for this after reading page 914 in Fire and Blood. In the show, they recruit Valyrian blooded bastards to ride the unclaimed dragons from King’s Landing, but in the book there is actually a fishing village at the base of the island where Dragonstone is located. The men of House Targaryen were known to seek pleasure among the commonfolk there quite often, claiming their ‘first night’ rights and sowing ‘dragonseeds.’ Sorry it came out a little late, I've been sick again the past couple of days.. T_T

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 On AO3

Daemon wet his face in the basin, his fair skin caked with dirt and sweat from a day of training in the yard. He lathered a generous amount of milk soap into his hands and began to wash his face. He’d really prefer to take a bath and clean thoroughly, but he simply didn’t have enough time if he was going to wet his cock in you before supper.

Grinning he began to think of you as he ran a wet cloth under his armpits and then down to his groin. Standing buck arse naked in his chambers, his cock is already growing rigid in his hands at the thought of you, his little bird, his dragonseed, his secret paramour, and how hard he was going to fuck you when he got his hands on you.

Just as promised, he’d proffered you a position within the castle at Dragonstone easily enough, an assistant cook in the kitchen. Given you were so young and fit, the staff didn’t mind having another set of legs to fetch and carry things to and from the pantry. And given his high status, it wasn’t as though any of them would dare deny his request either.

The arrangement has been working out perfectly well for both of them so far. And since Rhaenyra never even bothered to join him in bed as of late, it had been painless enough to bring you into his chamber whenever he wished it. And oh how he had wished for it often, enjoying every moment of breaking in his new lover, and you were always so eager to please him. The biggest challenge was keeping you quiet so that his wife would not hear your screams of pleasure from down the way; he quite often accomplished this by covering your mouth, whether it be by his own hand or a gag of cloth to silence those heated moans.

Fuck, he was already at full mast, his manhood throbbing and twitching at just recalling the image of your full bosom bouncing beneath him as he restrained the sounds coming from your pretty little lips. Oh, how he’d love to let you go and hear every beautiful tune you might sing as he plunged his cock into your depths, but he’d rather not listen to the bitching that would ensue from Rhaenyra’s cantankerous mouth as a result.

Daemon finishes the quick job of freshening up, rinsing his body with more water from the basin and drying off before he gets dressed again. He rushes as he ties up his shirt, not wanting to miss the opportunity to have you sooner, rather than later tonight. His blood is pumping even more than usual today after some exceptionally good sparring with the other knights on the island, and he feels like he has enough seed stored up to take you at least three times, maybe even four.

He wears a knowing grin as he saunters through the halls of the keep, still half hard as he makes his way towards you, his toothsome little firebird. Daemon has a half a mind to take you wherever he finds you, loving the idea of a public fuck. Let one of the servants see him staking his claim on you, for it would make the act even more tantalizing. He wonders where he might take you, that self-satisfied smirk never leaving his countenance. Perhaps in the root cellar where the potatoes and wine were stored- or the pantry, or maybe even the larder? He finds himself further enticed by the idea of fucking you beside a full leg of mutton, after all, you are his piece of meat and he cherishes you for it.

There are a series of narrow hallways in the servants quarters, smaller rooms where they sleep, where you sleep when you are not keeping his bed warm. Daemon navigates them, slipping past other house staff that seem alarmed by his presence, but don’t offer any argument to it. The corridor opens up into the massive kitchen, a long rectangular room with an open stove in the center of one wall. Opposite the fire is a massive table that takes up much of the chamber, and women are busy preparing different elements of food to be served with dinner. Freshly cooked bread is laid out as well as several biscuits all arranged neatly on a silver tiered tray.

It all looks rather delicious, but no delicacy in the castle could compare to the taste of you. And Daemon is starving for you, ravenous with hunger for the sweet cunt between your legs, seemingly unable to get enough of it. He sees you standing at the table, your back towards him and your long silvery tresses glowing from the dancing flame of the fire-pit. He’d hoped to find you somewhere a little more private, but that doesn’t mean he can’t take you to another location to have his way with you.

As Daemon takes a step into the kitchen, he stops in his tracks, pausing in place as a consternated look appears across his furled brow and crinkled nose. A man, broad of chest and dark in his features comes to stand beside you, resting his hand on your shoulder and looking down at you with far too much affection and familiarity.

How dare that piece of shit touch you. You belong to him! He’d already stolen you away from your husband and in fact had the marriage annulled. He’d realized after talking with his maester, that as the lord of Dragonstone, he has the legal authority to deny any wedding among the peasants, and so he did. But, now some upstart ruffian from the kitchen was going to try and steal you away from him? How many men would he have to dispose of before he could be at peace with his claim on you?

It wouldn’t do at all. Daemon would need to make an example of him. Show everyone what happened when they touched what was his.

He strode up proudly, his back straight as his Valyrian Steel longsword, Dark Sister, as he approached the pair and cleared his throat, his hand clenching down on the man’s shoulder viciously. The scamp let out a startled yelp as you turned to see what was happening, a look of concern flashing across your eyes as you saw Daemon standing there. He saw the tremulous fear in your periwinkle eyes as you began to grasp the situation and sneered with a wild look of abandon in his eyes.

“What do you think you’re fucking doing?” Daemon roared out, squeezing even harder into the man’s meaty shoulder.

The fellow sunk under his grip, instantly relinquishing his hold on you as he attempted to turn and face his assailant.

“No, you can stay right there prick,” he said with a scathing venom in his tone.

The kitchen staff had all stopped what they were doing, gazing upon the scene with terror as though they knew blood was likely soon to be spilled.

“LEAVE US!” Daemon roared out loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls in echo as every single servant jumped in fright before rushing to leave the premises.

He reaches past you to pick up a chef’s knife from the table and spins the offender around to face him. “You see this knife, you fuckwit?” he asks with condescension. The man nods stupidly, wearing a veil of abject dread upon his face. “If I ever see you so much as look at her again, I’m going to make you a fucking eunuch. You understand?”

The man simply stared up at Daemon, disbelief rife in his slack jaw. He did not answer immediately and it angered the King-Consort even more.

“DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND!? You are not to touch her! EVER!!” he screams and wraps his giant hand around the man’s face, slamming him back against the heavy wooden table.

“Yes! Yes, m’lord!” the whelp finally replies, falling to his knees with his hands clasped up and pleading.

Disgusted, Daemon scowls and shoves him to the side, away from him and towards the exit. “Get out of you filthy mongrel!” he spits derisively. “Before I change my mind…”

The peasant chef or whatever the fuck he was, shambled to his feet, tripping and falling twice before he made it out of the room. The silence was cumbersome as Daemon eyed you, his gaze hard and vicious as he decided how he should punish you.

“Why did you do that?” you are asking, but your voice is so far away, barely noticeable against the ringing of his furious heartbeat in his ears.

“After everything I’ve done for you?” he begins tearing into you, his words savage and his voice hateful. He cups your face in one hand, stroking your cheek almost tenderly, completely juxtapose to the angry expression on his face. A squeak of surprise escapes your lips as he then runs the dull backside of the knife along the opposite side of your face. He is pleased with the fright in your features, after all, he wants you to know how grave an offense this is.

He turns you swiftly, shoving you against the surface of the table and pushing you down with a strong hand to the middle of your back. You try to get up when he tosses the knife with a clatter across the table, but he slams you back down causing the table to groan with the weight of his force. “Stay fucking down,” he hisses with frustration as he unlaces his trousers.

“But I didn’t do anything,” you whine sorrowfully, still trying to play dumb.

“Like fucking hell you didn’t, you little whore!” he spits back, pulling his stiffened cock out from his smallclothes and letting it hang freely. “You let him touch you. I fucking saw it! Saw the way he looked at you. How he wanted you.”

Daemon begins to pull your skirts up, shoving them up and over your waist until he can see your bared cunny before him. “Did you want to fuck him, girl? Did you think he’d have a bigger cock than me? Think he could fill you to the brim and make you ache like I can?”

You’re already whimpering, a soft mewl of tears in your voice as you try to make excuses. As you try to implore him to cease in being so upset. As though anything could calm him down now that he’d seen another man’s hands upon you.

“I will never let another have you, firebird.. You are fucking mine! You belong to me!” he shouted with a gruff and spiteful voice.

He pressed the head of his cock against your wet center, pressing through without warning and sinking all the way in until he thudded roughly against your womb.

“Fuck!,” he roared as you continued to whine against the hard surface of the counter. “I need to remind you, hm?” he asked, one hand coming to your hip and pulling you back roughly onto his member as he thrust into you again and again. “That you are just a little thing, a prized cunt for me to fuck whenever I wish it?”

That actually makes your breath catch with fresh indignant cries of pain. Oh you haven’t cried like this for him since the very first time he had you and he is relishing the way you keep trying to pull your tender core away from his impending wrath. It’s not like you have anywhere to escape to though, not like you can get away from his grip, pinned between him and the table, forced to take him like a good little trollop.

“This tight little hole belongs to me, girl!” he seethed, losing himself completely in your wet heat, his fury unbridled as he pounds into you relentlessly. “Say it. Tell me what you are and who you belong to. Say it now!”

He knows you won’t like that, understand all too well how proud you are, but he has to break your spirit further if he’s going to keep you under his thumb. He has to make you realize that you’re nothing without him. You stay silent besides the sound of your wailing, your dismay at how he is taking you and how low he is trying to bring you apparent.

“Say it, you little fucking slut!” he howls, raising his hand from your hip to slap you viciously on the the round fat of your arse.

You let out an alarmed yelp, followed by a wail of outrage as you finally relent. “I’m…I-I’m your cunny to fuck, Daemon!” you squeal with the sharp sting of embarrassment clear in your tone as your tight core clamps down on him in response.

“Damn fucking right you are,” he leers over you with a primal growl of arousal and conquest. “You like it don’t you? Like being my little whore?” He slaps you on the arse once more, this time hard enough to leave a crimson handprint on your flesh. Daemon can’t help but grin at the sound you make and the way you clench down tightly on his cock each time he slaps your rear. “You really do enjoy it,” he smiles smugly, loving that his filth has this affect on you. “I wonder how much coin I could fetch for you back in the brothels at King’s Landing? I bet you’d be the biggest earner on the Street of Silk… And you’d love every moment of it wouldn’t you?”

The inner lining of your center contracts violently around his length as you peak, causing him to wince in pain as he pushes past the taut muscles. “My dirty little bird,” he pants, grinning from ear to ear as you go limp against the table and he plunges deeply into you, pounding endlessly as he chases his own release.

He spills into you with the heat and thickness of molten lava, his cockhead slamming roughly against your womb as he pulls your hips onto him firmly, pulsing seed inside of you as he groans with the pleasure of subduing you completely.

“Fucking hellls!” he bellows out, falling on top of your back with nothing but his arm to keep from crushing you, holding himself up slightly from the wooden counter.

Daemon stays inside of you, not in a rush to leave the safe and welcoming heat of your cunt. As he steadies himself on his forearm, he reaches up to brush your hair aside, wiping salty tears dotingly from your cheeks as he takes in your expression.

“Are you hurt, little bird?” he asks with a hint of regret in seeing your reddened eyes and cheeks. “Was I too rough?”

You shake your head slightly, still not making eye contact with him as your body shivers beneath him. He smooths your bright locks of hair back against your scalp, still panting as he tries to recover.

Gods, he thinks you look beautiful like this, ravaged and spent, and still impaled on his cock.

“I don’t want him,” you finally say quietly, almost pouting. “He means nothing to me.”

Daemon sighs, feeling a pang of guilt at how decisively you say that, without a hint of doubt. He withdraws his length from you, leaving a slick mess of your combined fluids as he lets your skirts fall down again. He puts his now softening cock back in his brailes and turns you around to face him.

“I know,” he says pressing a kiss against your lips, before pulling back to take a look at you. “I can’t control how I feel about you, my searing firebird,” he says more softly, peppering kisses on your cheeks in between words. “It drives me mad with rage to think of another man so much as touching you.”

There was something about fucking you that always dulled his sharpest edges. It was as though every bit of pent up rage and aggression just fell away once he spent inside you. You were the only one who could sooth his ferocity like this, quell the savage beast that he always became in your absence, or even at the thought of losing you.

“I would never leave you for another, Daemon,” you say reassuringly, brushing your soft hand along the hard line of his jaw. “I don’t want anyone else but you. You must know that by now?”

“One day, I’ll learn,” he offers with a playful little smirk as he snatches your hand in his, and brushes a gentle kiss against the back of your knuckle.

“Well, isn’t that sweet?” an all too familiar voice cuts through the tender moment.

Daemon snaps his head towards the shrill sound, knowing exactly who he’ll see, his wife Rhaenyra. He looks back at you, realizing that he’s been caught and worried about what it could mean for you. He turns back to the would be queen and offers a feigned smile of surprise.

“I’m sorry, wife,” he offers complacently as he lets your hand go and smacks you on the bottom dismissively, signaling for you to leave. “Did we make too much noise?”

You scamper off obediently, retreating into the hallway and out of sight much to his relief. He doesn’t want Rhaenyra getting a good look at you, doesn’t want her getting any ideas concerning retribution against you.

“When the staff is not allowed into the kitchen to prepare supper and we are all made to wait… Well, it certainly sparks one’s curiosity as to what is causing the delay, husband,” she says, her voice cold and distant.

“Oh, that?” he throws his hands out in a disarming gesture, showing that they are empty. “That was just some fun,” he assures her, using as much disregard as possible so Rhaenyra might feel less threatened by you. “A passing dalliance, nothing more,” he offers with a wink as he lowers his hands to his sides and walks past her out towards the dining hall.

[wonysugar]

you know the drill i fear.. BEFORE YOU GUYS YELL AT ME just know that i’m sorry and i’m trying incredibly hard to get all of my drafts done<//3 IT’S HARD WRITING WHEN NO INSPO HITS YOU OKAY… but for now, please accept some of these fresh drabbles, i’m sorryrjrnrnf

now… NOW…… mid 2023 sugar may or may not have possessed me on this fine morning because hellooo i miss short black bob chaewon BAD i need to eat her out and make her feel good desperately!

cw: waxplay, sensory play(??) i have no idea what to call it but she doesn’t let you touch herfkemf, vibrators, very light bondage

i’m so normal about these pictures omg the femme dom ever,,, the powerbottom to have ever powerbottom-ed this earth,,,, chaewon is the definition of cute girlfriend in the streets FREAKY HOE IN THE SHEETS CAUSEEEJFKS???

she has an obsession with your mouth she cannot help it! she just loves using it for her own pleasure i fear… feeling its moist surface on her wet swollen cunt whenever she’s needy for your touchcidkfk moaning at the slight contact :(( i am also a firm believer that she’d guide you to do it the way she likes it, BUT NOT USING WORDS; indeed, she’s perfectly content with forming a rough grip on your hair and pulling on it however she wants to and whenever she wants to. sometimes she even pulls you away from her pussy so just so she can see her wet slick on your stuck-out tongueckdkf looking at the string of mixed saliva and cum left between your muscle and her core…. giggling so hard rn guys

also SHE’D MOAN SO LOUDLY??:((( i know she sounds pretty i KNOW she does,, and so does she! she gets turned on by the sound of her own moaning, it’s only natural. the way your name rolls off her tongue so sweetly as she whines sounds like music to both your ears and hers. she’ll make sure you hear how good you’re making her feel, how good you’re being for herckdmfnd

now,, if we’re looking at the more RISQUÉ aspect of things.. oh she goes nuts i’m afraid.

OMG WHO SAID CANDLEWAX?? no but yeah on the days where she just feels like watching you squirm and struggle under her touch, she’ll just pull out the candlescisndn

NOW WALK WITH ME. she’s sitting in front of you, you’re laid down on the bed and your wrists are tied to the bed frame with her tie or smth because she’s an angry and frustrated office worker in my heart LEAVE ME ALONE. she knows how much you love touching her, and she knows how needy and whiny you get when you can’t. [devil emoji] SO NATURALLY! she has a vibrator nestled in between her legs and pressed onto her clit, barely even visible due to the oversized button up she has ongkemfm and she’s just pouring drops of candlewax on your naked stomach, the sight of you whining both at the delicious pain and the absence of her skin on you.

she’s moaning so loudly and staring at you with such lustfully hooded eyes, making it even harder for you not to wanna break free from the restraint of the tight tie and fuck her better than the vibrator ever will, like she rightfully deserves:((

also she totally degrades you in the process SORRY NOT SORRY!! she makes fun of you for the warm pool growing in between your legs, moaning how dirty and slutty you look getting wet by just watching her get off,, how you’re dripping for her even though she hasn’t even done anything expect burn you ahehehcjdkd calling you a ‘desperate fucking bitch’ and whatnot,,, laughing at you when you start crying and squirming whilst begging for her to untie you,,,,,, I’M UNWELL.

AND IF I SAY THAT SHE’D ALSO SET ASIDE THE VIBRATOR AT ONE POINT AND START SLOWLY FINGERING HERSELF IN FRONT OF YOU, TEASING YOU BY SPREADING HER WET FOLDS SO YOU CAN SEE EVERY LITTLE THING— [GUNSHOTS]

i fear she’d also describe to you how her fingers feel pumping in and out of her and moan your name in the process,, you’re just watching her throw her head back in pleasure as she fingerfucks herself?? oh girl at this point you’re just whimpering and sobbing like the pathetic whore she thinks you are, trying to subtly close your thighs and rub them together for any sort of friction:((

oh selfish chaewon save me…. save me selfish chaewon

[alphajocklover]

Hey man, so I've tried to be passive most of my life and not cause trouble. Not breaking many rules, doing as I'm told, and it just leaves me with so much missed chances and getting walked all over. I'm kind of tired of it.

I wanna be abrasive, not rude but confident. Almost cocky. And I want the looks to match. I wanna be huge, and bulky, and hairy too. I don't wanna be smart and focused on academics, I wanna chuck balls and pump my cock all day. Weird enough too, I wanna be sweaty. I wanna raise my arms and watch a bunch of gay dudes just melt like puddy.

The best part is, I wanna *feel* this transformation. I want to watch my arms get huge, I wanna hear my voice get deeper, and my chest push out and almost tear my chest. I wanna be...I wanna be...I wanna be a fuckin JOCK

I want to start by assuring you that everything you’ve said, everything you’ve been feeling, makes sense. There are a lot of people out there who are like you, people who have spent their entire lives just blending in. It’s natural to want to fit in, but when you spend so much of your life trying to fit into the norm, it can be easy to forget who you really want to be. When that happens, most people try to change things up. Some chase after a specific new self they dream of being, while others experiment with different identities, trying to find one that fits. But then, there's people like you. People who have spent far too long trying to fit in. For people like you, blending in isn’t a curse: it’s a superpower.

What you have to understand is that a person's identity is far more powerful than you might realize. There's a reason people take names so seriously. Psychologically, socially, and even magically, they’re important. So when a person leaves so much of their identity up to the people around them… it makes sense that a transformation might occur. That they change, literally change, to blend in with others. We call these people Camous. People who have the power to socially blend in, literally, with the world around them. They’re sort of the opposite of Alphas. Alphas change reality to fit their whims, Campus change to fit reality. And from what I hear, you’re becoming one. I know this might sound a little frightening, since having your identity threatened will do that to anyone. But this is a good thing. While changing is scary, you won’t change entirely. Your body, your personality, your traits, and even your reality will change depending on who you’re around, but the core of your identity, your soul will stay the same. You’ll still be you, just… altered. And being a Camou gives you a lot of advantages. It’s true that you won’t ever stand out really, but you’ll always fit in and always be part of a group. And, better than that, you can use your power to choose who you want to be. You want to be a jock, right? A sweaty, hairy, manly jock who makes gay guys weak in the knees? All you have to do is find a group of jocks to join! It isn’t hard to find a group of jocks, even the specific type of hairy gay jocks you’re looking for. You just have to find the right gym, and I know just the one. The Jockstrap is a local gym specifically made to cater to people like you. Or the people you want to be like I suppose. I want you to take a deep breath as we enter. Do you smell that sweat? That manly musk? Breathe in deep, it’ll help the process. Unlike one of the more famous transformation methods I’ve written about, this one isn’t instant. You’re going to feel your biceps fill with muscle, your pecs bursting forward as your body is covered in a respectable smattering of manly hair. It’s already happening. Your shoulders are widening as your chest continues to grow, needing more room on your body. Your legs, your arms, your ass… everything is growing. But that isn’t the only thing that's changing. Your mind is too. I can see the excitement in your eyes as you look around. Working out, exercising, playing sports, hanging with the bros… you’re already getting excited by the thought of it. And without getting too explicit, it’s obvious that you’re excited in other ways. I can see it through your sweat pants (I guess your clothing changed too) and it must be at least 8 inches by now, soft. That rod, your muscles, and the sheer amount of manly musk that's coming from your body now? You’re going to have twinks throwing themselves at you.

Now, since you’re a Camou this transformation isn’t permanent. It’ll last for a while, longer depending on how much time you spend at the gym surrounded by your new bros. The general rule is if you spend one hour with a group, you get three hours as one of them, unless you spend time with a new group immediately after. But the really exciting part is that once you have a form, you can turn into that version of yourself… with some practice, and if you aren’t currently with a large group. 

I honestly can’t believe I haven’t talked about Camous beforehand. Granted, you’re only the second Camou I’ve ever met, but they’re so interesting I can’t believe I’ve never brought them up. I hope you enjoy being a jock, or whoever else you want to try out being. Just, try not to fall in with a bad crowd.

[cherigu]

— ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Raincheck!

Genre: smut, established relationship Pairing: dom!jeongguk x sub!reader Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: oral (m receiving), mouth fucking, degradation n praise, bigdick!jk, size kink, breeding kink, slight switch!jk

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“Hmm” You hummed into the kiss, mouth latched onto your boyfriend’s while your tongues tangled passionately as you worked to swallow every single one of his ragged breaths that gradually began to turn into whiny moans. Your bare bodies were intertwined, underwear being the only thing separating the two of you at this point. His large hands rested on your plump ass, languidly guiding your lower body to grind down against his cock while he occasionally dug his fingers into the soft of your flesh whenever you brushed against a particular spot on his swollen tip. 

He was the first to break the kiss after pulling away and looking at the clock on the nightstand that read 7:00 PM, an hour before the dinner with his friends. “Princess, gotta get ready” He mumbled through his swollen lips, wanting nothing more than to continue feeling your body against his but also knowing that once you both go further, there’s no going back. “For?” You acted clueless, pretending you forgot about his plans so he would eventually do the same.  Your fingers swept over the litter of love bites you had left on his neck, admiring them like you would a masterpiece.

“So greedy” He chuckled, hand delivering a slap to your ass before gripping it harshly to pull the lingering mewl out of your lips, “Always want me all to yourself, huh?” He rubbed his fingers over the reddened skin of your cheek to soothe the sting. “Yet you never oppose,” you spoke, managing to keep the quiver in your voice stable to avoid showing how desperate you were for him right now, “You love how good I make you feel.”

He cocked a brow up and diverted his daring eyes to your lips. “Yeah?” he began, cupping your hand with his own and dragging it down to the waistband of his boxers. “Show me how good you say you make me feel, baby” The venom-laced words that dripped from his lips matched the gaze he shot at you through his hooded lids, triggering a sly smirk to grow on your face. You teasingly pulled at the hem, letting it slap onto his skin to hear the frustrated hiss escape his lips. 

“If you wish” You began to kiss your way down his body, lips ghosting over his skin without breaking eye contact as you repositioned your body to be in between his legs. His hand came up to your head to scoop up your soft hair, creating a makeshift ponytail to avoid it getting in the way. Once you were face-level with his lower body, your hands swiftly came up to his hips to peel away the fabric from his hard-on. 

No matter how many times you’d seen Jeongguk’s cock, you’d never get used to how big he was. Seeing his length spring out after being freed from the cotton material of his underwear is a view you needed permanently engraved in your mind. From the curved, girthy shaft with the thick veins, to the reddened tip that oozed precum from simply making out. What you arguably loved the most about Jeongguk’s cock, is the fact that all of this was from you, for you. No one else could get him like this, no one other than you.

You took his length in your hands to firmly grip it, using your thumb to spread the arousal that had leaked all over his tip. Your touch felt like heaven on earth, soft hands worked to please him so well. A string of curses fell from his lips when he felt your thumb graze over his slit, cheekily teasing him while you gathered some saliva in your mouth. You slightly parted your lips and stuck your tongue out, letting the fat glob of liquid trail down your wet muscle and drip onto his aching length. You brought your hand back down on him, pumping him a few times to properly lubricate him before leaning your face down. 

He stared in adoration as your tongue darted out from your mouth a few times, giving his head kitten licks that had him sucking air through his teeth. You decided to press your tongue flat against the base of his shaft, slightly toying with the pulsing vein that screamed for more. You dragged your tongue upwards, landing on his tip and swirling your tongue around it before opening your mouth and taking him whole. 

His size was a bit to get used to, tears already brimming your eyes but nevertheless being worth it as Jeongguk’s thighs tensed under you while he became more vocal. “Shit baby, m-more please, just like that.” He groaned, slightly pushing your head further down onto him until he felt the graze of your uvula. He released some pressure on your head and let you do your own thing, throwing his head back while you bobbed your head up and down his shaft.

The squelch of your repeated movements on him as well as the sound of his deep moans had your stomach turning in anticipation. Arousal collected in the fabric of your panties, an indicator of how badly you needed him to touch you. But as of now, you’d make sure he was well taken care of. 

"Pretty mouth was made for my cock baby, feel so good around me." He felt the knot in his stomach tighten too quick for his liking, lifting up his head to hastily warn you, “Y/n–” was all he was able to get out. The sight of you was enough to bring his high even closer than before. Cheeks tinted with a bright hue of pink, tears streaming down your lust-filled eyes that were fixated on his cock. Your furrowed brows showed the determination you had to make him feel good, even if you were now a drooling mess and short of breath. He took a few more seconds to watch his cock disappear into your skilled mouth, plump lips brimmed with the thin white ring of his pre-cum. “Hmm?” You hummed, asking him to continue with what he was going to say.

He fell speechless for the slight moment where the vibrations of your hum mixed with the hollowing of your cheeks made for delicious stimulation on his cock. His breathy voice barely crept into your ears, too focused on his pleading whines to fully understand what he was saying. “Shit.. slow down baby, ‘m gonna cum if y-you don’ stop” He warned.

This only motivated you to keep going, sinking your mouth impossibly further down his shaft until you felt him in your throat. He began to whimper at the feel of your throat contracting down on his cock, making him unable to think clearly. You tongued his shaft with eager movements, pressing down on his sensitive spots with the purpose of finishing him off and hearing him cry out your name. However, your actions were quickly interrupted, not quite going through as planned.

The fog in his brain quickly faded away as he felt himself about to burst into your mouth, rapidly regaining enough composure for his next moves. “Fuck..” He harshly bucked up his hips a few times to gag you as punishment, shortly before pulling away and gripping at your hair. “Didn’t I tell you to slow down” He growled, looking down at your unapologetic expression that purposefully seemed to work him up even more.

“What a fucking brat, always so hungry for my cock.” He let go of your hair to guide you on top of his body, briskly flipping you on your back while he hovered over you. His hand crept down to your panties to slowly rub figure eights on your clothed cunt. “You’re this soaked over having my cock down your throat?” He asked, letting out a dry laugh. You stared at him with the inability to speak, basking in the pleasure of his fingers touching you after being deprived of any friction.

“I asked you a question.” He retracted his hands from your damp panties, causing any last bit of pride you had to disappear into thin air. You protested against the loss of contact with a series of whiny no’s, reaching down to grab his hand before he pulled away. 

Knowing what he wanted, you used your weak voice to answer him, “Y-yes, ‘m all wet just for you! P-please touch me..” You looked up at him, watching him smirk at your suffering. With a click of his tongue, he spoke while shaking his head, “Such a thirsty slut for me, hm?” He used a hand to slide down your panties, slightly parting your legs and using his free hand to position his cock between your folds. 

“Inside..” You mewled, burying the side of your face against the pillow as Jeongguk slid himself up and down your wet cunt. “Wanna take my fat cock inside your little pussy, princess? Hm? Is that what you want?” He teased, moving his hips faster against you.​​ The feel of his tip repeatedly hitting your clit made it hard to speak, but not hard enough to not be able to whisper a small “Please..”

“Since you asked so nicely baby” He leaned down to kiss the side of your neck, once again bringing his hand down to align himself with your entrance. Without a warning, he bottomed out, earning a loud moan as your mouth formed an O-shape. He immediately began to thrust, voicing groans of his own as your velvety walls engulfed his throbbing shaft. 

“ ‘S too big Jeongguk, slow d-down” You heaved, feeling the sting of his size burn your heat since he didn’t give you the usual time to adjust. “You asked for it, now take it like a good girl” He delivered hard thrusts at the end of his sentence, seemingly wanting to get his point across. “Been bad enough, don’t listen to me and still expect me to listen to you, tsk” 

It wasn’t too long until the pain began to fade into pleasure, his experienced thrusts had his length burying itself deep inside of you, making you repeatedly call out his name. “Shit baby, look at you” He spoke through ragged breaths, loosening his grip on your waist to bring a hand down to your stomach. He softly palmed it until you brought your gaze down to where he was talking about. The bulge of his cock was outlined in the lower half of your stomach, turning you on even more at the fact that you were now hyperaware of his size.  “Feel me in your tummy? Taking me so well, princess” You threw your head back in bliss, feeling him hit all of your sensitive spots over and over again, making your brain turn to mush.

His hand rested on your stomach while you fell apart underneath him, feeling your high right around the corner. You knew he was close since his hips had began to stutter and the pace he had set was becoming increasingly erratic. Words lingered on the tip of his tongue, spilling when he began to feel the sensitivity take over. “Gonna fill this pretty tummy up with my kids, yea? I’ma stuff you full of my cum til you get all round and swollen, fuck” He began to pound faster into you at the feel of your walls squeezing him, “You like that, huh” He breathed out.

“Y-yea, fuck– fill me up, please, wan’ your kids.” You cried out, no longer holding back the tears caused by the repeated stimulation on your G-spot. “Yea? Wanna let everyone know who fucks you so good, hm? Gonna show them who pumps this pussy full of cum.” 

“You, Jeongguk, o-only you. ‘M all yours!” Those were the last words you managed to choke out before you both came undone. Hips drilling into yours, he was determined to make your high last and make you feel good, not caring that his cock was rapidly growing sensitive from the effect of your words. It always felt good to hear the reminded of who you belonged to, making him proud of having such a perfect girlfriend all to himself. 

He made sure to stay true to his words, using his cock to pound his seed deep inside of your cunt. Once he was satisfied with his work, he drew his hips to a slow stop and carefully pulled himself out of you, not wanting to make your post-orgasm painful. Panting, he dropped his body next to your spent one, both of you working to recollect your breath while you laid in the comfortable silence. 

After cleaning you and himself up, he came back with a glass of water only to find out you had fallen into a deep slumber. Feeling his share of exhaustion, he decided to join you under the sheets, securely enveloping his arms around you and planting a soft kiss on the top of your head. After whispering his goodnight, it wasn’t long until he passed out next to you, the heat of your body making him comfortably drift off into dreamland.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, Jeongguk’s phone began to go off, a series of texts displayed on the lock screen.

Hobi: Hello?

Hobi: Where are you?

Tae: dude we're waiting for you

Tae: are you even coming atp

Tae: wtv have fun w her ig

Min: can you at least let us kno if ur gonna raincheck😭

A/N: this one took a little longer than expected bc i ended up getting writers block AND sick in the middle of it # double kill but anywhooo hope u enjoy dom!jk’s comeback ^.^

[iamnotdeadyet]

God I loved that yan!playboy you did! If you could, can I please get another one, this one where the reader is fully aware of what he's doing and is just leading them on, until they finally let him back into their life and get back together? I'm a huge sucker for exes getting back together and growing as people, but this one has a lil evil twist ;)

Glad you liked it! I loved writing this sm♥︎♥︎

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

What if's

Pt.2

You knew. You always knew.

Yan!playboy!ex who is oblivious to the fact that you knew about his little break in's.

Yan!playboy!ex who felt like luck was on his side every time you wear less and less clothing while sleeping when i fact, it was all your doing. You knew about his him coming into your dorm at night, knew about how he jerked off right there and then if he even caught a glimpse of your shown skin.

It wasnt his fault his pants got too tight and he had a boner that bordered on painful! And you certainly werent complaining either. The broken whimpers and slick sound of his hand running up and down his swollen cock or even better-of his fingers pumping in and out of his ass.

Yan!playboy!ex who doesnt know youre quite aware of how his body reacts to your praises. Unbeknownst to him, you knew about his raging boner that showed up right after you called him a simple "Good boy" out of habit, or that you knew about how he had to go to the bathroom to relieve some tension off his weeping dick even though he already came in his pants moments before.

Yan!playboy!ex who was sure you didn't know about how he was the one to kill your boyfriend,when in fact, you did. And while it did sadden/detach you from him at first...you forgave him after a while.

Yan! playboy!ex who loved how you came to his dorm more and more often. One thing you didn't know though, is that he had to rub his cock on the spot you were sat on. He needed you and that was as close as he was going to get on direct contact. ....for now

Yan!playboy!ex who actually cries and sobs when you accept him back into your arms.

Yan!playboy!bf who is afraid to touch you at first, feeling the guilt from his previous actions. So you'd probably have to insist quite a bit...but don't worry! He'll do anything to make you stay!

Yan!playboy!bf who can stay for hours on end in between your legs, it's his favourite! The feeling of your thighs squishing him while he makes you cum is just the best! It has him cumming in his pants more often than he'd like to admit. Moans and muffled groans vibrating through your whole body, letting your legs feel like jelly when he's finally finished. And if you stick a vibrator up his ass? None of you is done without passing out, covered in your mixed cum.

Yan!playboy!bf who loves when you touch him. Pinch his nipples? Moaning mess. Fingering him? Sobbing and cumming so much from both his dick and ass. Riding him? Congratulations, you got yourself a bitch in heat.

Yan! playboy!bf who thrusts his dick in between your cum covered thighs, sobbing from overstimulation while pleading for more. And when you finally graze his tip with your thumb, his dick is pulsing, sending ropes of cum on your hand. Nevertheless it stays rock hard.

Yan!playboy!bf who is a broken, whimpering mess if you suck him off. Probably cums so much too! He'll be gripping the sheets, his legs thrashing around as he tries to hold onto sanity.

Yan!playboy!bf who loses it when you kiss him while he is having an orgasm. He's reduced to a messy, trembling, sobbing state, squirming under your body, moaning against your mouth and almost choking from the lack of air, saliva dripping down the corners of his mouth due to the blissful sensation, unable to reciprocate and just lay there with his tongue plunging into your mouth, eyes crossing and dick throbbing around your warm hand.

Yan!playboy!bf who loves you and basically is a worshipping sinner to a god who's name is unwritten in paper but carved in his mind.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Might turn this into a series cuz I like it. MAYBE.

IF YOU LIKE THESE PLEASE FOLLOW, I CAN AND WILL DO MORE ♥︎♥︎

[opalemo]

homecoming. ✿

the ache of longing, the spark of anticipation, the joy of reunion. the way they greet you at the airport when you finally arrive home.

xiao / childe / scaramouche & gn reader. just sweet happy moments.

xiao

xiao is scared for an entire week leading up to your return. it’s so stupid how he’s afraid of the thing he wants the most, but he has no idea what he’s supposed to do or how he’s supposed to act. does he buy you gifts? clean your room? bring you flowers? does he act normal or extra nice? does he say he missed you? but you already know that… so should he say he loves you more than anything and never wants you to leave without him again?

okay, he probably can’t manage telling you that without combusting on the spot.

as the date draws nearer xiao feels his heart grow lighter in anticipation - the weight of waiting and longing slowly dissipating as the sun rises over the dawn of your arrival.

he can sense you coming before he even lays eyes on you, bobbing in and out among the sea of other people rushing out and celebrating reunions with their loved ones. anxiety gnaws at his thoughts - what if you’re different? what if you’re unhappy to be back? what if you realised you’re actually better off without him?

“hi, xiao.”

your voice is still as beautiful as ever. so are those eyes, your smile, you. he opens his mouth to say sorry for zoning out and for doubting you for no reason but before he can speak, your hands are on his collar and your lips are on his for the first time in what feels like forever.

your fingertips drag softly across his jaw.

“i’ve missed you”.

xiao’s embrace is gentle in spite of his poorly concealed desperation. you, on the contrary, completely fling yourself into his arms. his hands shake with unbridled excitement, unfamiliar euphoria consuming his very being.

unlike the excruciating grip his mind usually has on him, this feeling is so light in every way.

your laugh bubbles against his chest, and he realises how much he missed the sound - the sound of happiness. yours is his, and his is yours.

childe

you’re on high alert, scanning the rows of people left and right for that familiar mop of ginger hair. with the way your heart is pumping you’d think you were more afraid than excited. after all, dating your beloved ajax of all people means you have to be prepared for a jumpscare at absolutely any second. and the fact that you don’t see him anywhere doesn’t disappoint you or make your heart drop. with the way he was counting down the weeks, days, hours to this moment, there’s no way he would forget or even be a second late to pick you up. it just makes you question what the hell he’s up to this time.

you look down at your phone to check the time and whether or not he’s texted you. nothing yet. you scroll through his instagram to see if he’s uploaded anything. nothing.

you only realise your mistake when you look back up again.

slowly turning around, you come to face that cheeky grin, his smile stretched as wide as ever, and you have to try and contain a laugh at his obvious childlike excitement at being able to sneak up behind you.

it sounds cheesy, but you swear the whole world slows down when you’re finally in his arms again.

childe swings you around about five times and proceeds to squeeze the very life out of you (you can’t breathe and this is literally so embarrassing, but you couldn’t care less). he’s here, he’s alive, and he’s still as annoying as ever - just the way you like (love) him.

scaramouche

to any bystander, it would’ve appeared as if he didn’t even miss you. hell, why was he waiting for you at the airport in the first place? did you coerce him into it? threaten to break up with him?

in fact, he thinks to himself, that sounds more like something i would do.

you don’t even need to look for him when you enter the arrivals area - he’s standing at the back near the exit, hood on, headphones in, arms crossed like some wannabe gangster trying to look intimidating. he pretends not to notice you waving (embarrassingly) at him, but you know he does - you know he’s simply overjoyed to see you.

just expresses it in a strange way is all. not that you’re complaining.

“kuni!” you squeal, letting go of your suitcase to jump into his arms. he uncrosses his arms so fast to catch you (and your suitcase which is now rolling away), holding you tight against his chest like you might fall down and disintegrate if he doesn’t. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s trying so hard to contain a blush and a smile right now.

when he finally lets go to take you to his car, he mutters a “will you stop holding onto me or what?” under his breath.

the audacity.

he kisses you when you get in the car.

[cherrybomblust]

Dadsbestfriend!Simon x younger!reader

Midnight rendezvous

Notes~ reader is in her early 20s, Simon in his early to mid 40s.

Tags~ older man x younger woman, drunk!simon, confessing feelings, drunken kissing through mask, major touchy touchy Simon, sweet!simon, sexual mentions, interrupted,Masturbation. No major smut!

“Here you go si” I put the glass of water down beside him, a couple of folded blankets on his lap. His head is lolled back against the sofa, just raising his hand to soft grasp your hand. Your heart was beating out of your chest, mouth running dry. He pulls you down so softly, as if you’d break apart like expensive china.

He took up so much of the sofa, his thick thighs spread and his shoulders wide. In complete silence you took the sight in, the way his Adams Apple bobbed as he swallowed air, his eyes relaxed shut. His mask contoured to his jawline, his strong nose, plump limps begging to be kissed. He reeked of alcohol, bourbon mixed with smoke, you wanted the scent wrapped around you like a warm blanket. His thumb began rubbing the soft skin of your hand.

“Come on si, drink some water” you whisper but all he does is crank his head to look at you, his deep brown owns raking over your face, then further down. “God” he groans “think I love ya” he slurs, your eyes slightly widening at the words, drunken words that’s all they are. He doesn’t mean it.

The hand that was once innocently grasping your hand, started to trail to your thigh, continuing the small circles that sent a warm shiver down your spine. “Prettiest girl I know” his eyes darken “ can’t stop thinking about these soft thighs, ther all I think about”. You feel like your hearts about to explode, this is your dad’s best friend, a gruff 40 year old man who shows no interest in love. Showing interest in you, a girl who still lives with her dad, wrapped in an existential crises?

He pushes himself up, his face so near, you feel his breath hitting your skin through his mask. “S-Simon” he shushes you, his strong hand coming up to run his fingers through your hair. “Really doing something to me love” his voice low, soaked in lust, in love. Kiss me Kiss me Kiss me. Just take me right here.

You close the distance, pressing your lips to the soft fabric, you could taste the strong whiskey making you wince. You needed more, you needed to feel the suppleness of his lips, his tongue down your throat while his hands explore your figure.

For the first time your hands come into contact with him, your fingers following the lines of his pumped muscles that strain against the tight fabric of his shirt. You want to tear it off and mark every inch of exposed skin. “Fuck simon” you whimper as you graze the large bulge growing in his pants,before pushing your lips back to his.

you grow frustrated, the clothed kissing not satisfying the deep hunger for the older man sitting infront of you, with his hands messily groping every inch of your skin.

“Simon have you seen my daughter” your heart stops, you rip yourself from Simon’s grasp, the sounds of heavy breathing evident with in the living room.

You quickly make yourself look busy by setting up the couch, ignoring the way your thighs stick together due to the wetness built by the acts before. All Simon does is smirks and lays back “in ere mate” drunkenness still evident in his words.

Confined within the four walls of your bedroom, all that’s on your mind is the man sleeping in your living room, your core aching at the thought of what could’ve happened. The thought of being ravaged by your dad’s best friend while he’s just in the room over. fuck .

Unbeknownst to you that same man is fucking his hand on your couch, to the thought of taking you over the kitchen table. The thought of you laying in your bed, thrusting two fingers inside your sopping cunt while quietly whimpering his name. Him replacing those fingers with his thick, weeping cock when he pushes through your bedroom door and takes you right there and then.

Maybe next time.