#i want to kiss him with tongue and hold hands about it

[possiblyreallyme]

Ace thinks you're unbelievably pretty

warning: simp Ace, smut, oral (female receiving), praise/body worship.

Ace thinks you're the prettiest woman in the world, no matter what you or anyone else has to say about it.

No matter if you think your eyes don't look right, he'd stare into them and get completely lost. No matter if you don't think your nose fits your face, he kisses the tip of it and giggles anyway. No matter how weird you think your teeth are, you have the prettiest smile he's ever seen. No matter if you're shaped like a brick, or a pear, or an hourglass, he's swooning over your figure and telling the guys to look because damn, have you seen his girl?

From top to bottom, inside and out, Ace is in love. You could be the hottest model this side of the Grand Line, or the most average-looking girl in the world, and I promise you, he'd think you're an angel sent from heaven just for him.

The way you look when you yawn— a not-so-flattering face in your eyes— is simply adorable in his. When you're laughing and you hide behind your hands or turn away, he's quick to turn you back to him so that he can put a face to the beautiful noise and fuck, he's never disappointed.

And the faces you make during sex? God, he's begged to whip out a camera to capture it to hang it on the wall every single time. You think it's rather ugly, when your mouth goes open and leaves all those crinkles and lines in your face, brows furrowing in a way you'd rather not see or have anyone else see for that matter, drool dripping down your chin because he's just so big. But he thinks it's the prettiest face in the world, to the point he's crying and calling you beautiful, cumming deep in your womb while he starts to rut into you and thumb at your twitching clit like an animal.

Oh God, and your cute little pussy? He can't get enough of it. On his knees with your hips high in the air, effortlessly holding your weight while squishing your ass in his palms and lapping at you like a dog. Your upper half laid out on the floor of his cabin, clawing at the wood while blood rushed to your head and made you dizzy— he couldn't even wait until you got to the bed before he had ripped off your clothes and dove in face-first.

"She's s'pretty, sweetheart, holy fuck-" He honestly couldn't believe it, despite seeing it a million times. He's seen pussy before, on raunchy videos and the magazines the crew passed around when Whitebeard wasn't looking, and yet none of them were anything like this— part of him was tempted to bend you over in front of the crew to show you off, but the other part of him wanted to keep you all to himself.

"She's beautiful, babydoll, tastes like heaven." He could barely speak through your folds, lips still pressing heady kisses to your pretty cunt just like he would your mouth after a long mission away, and yet he only just fucked you this morning. "Y'hear 'er? Yeah? She's as mouthy as you are," He groaned, sounding so proud of the cute little noises tumbling from your lips, your walls squelching obscenely when he latched his mouth around your entrance and fucked you with his hot tongue once more.

"Hmmm, see? She's tryin'a get a word in, tellin' me how good 'm fuckin' you." How could you be so perfect? How could you look, act, and even sound like an angel— something a dirty pirate like him shouldn't even be touching, and yet he can't bring himself to pull away.

[krosiefics]

“what’s this?” • kim seungmin

M D N I 18+

Synopsis: Seungmin finds one of your smutty books and teases you about it to the point where you BOTH take advantage of the situation.

WC: 1.7k

Tags: smut, piv, unprotected sex (be safe), afab!reader, bsf!seungmin, dom!seungmin, sub!reader, degradation (whore, slut, filthy, minx), light dacryphilia, creampie, seungmin is a little mean, ass slapping, hair pulling, light system, biting, blowjob, talkative seungmin, prob forgetting some sorry :(

“Hey, what’s this?” You hear your best friend say from the living room as you grab a snack from the kitchen. “What’s what?” You roll your eyes at the vague question.

“This.” You glance up to see Seungmin with the most shit eating grin ever. Your eyes flicker over to the object he’s holding up, it’s a book…it was one of those books. “That’s nothing, so if you’d just-“ You laugh dryly, attempting to snatch the book out of Seungmin’s hand. But the brown haired man raises his arm above his head, flipping through some pages before letting out a chuckle.

“‘Oh god, fuck me harder-‘ what the fuck is this?!” Seungmin teased, the smirk on his face not faltering one bit. “Never took you to be such a freak.” He stated as he continued reading the pages.

“He felt as she clenched against his cock, throbbing inside her pussy.” Seungmin read off the page as your face turned a dark hue of red. “Min, give it to me.” You say sternly, his antics only fueling your embarrassment.

Seungmin squints at you before flipping back a few pages until he was satisfied with the scene taking place in the book. “He strides over to her, caging her body in his.” Seungmin read, his body moving closer to yours.

Your heart pounded as his arms caged you against the kitchen counter. “His eyes falling to her lips, licking them as if he were craving to taste her.” Seungmin’s eyes flickered to yours before shifting towards your lips, letting his tongue run along his lower lip.

It’s then that you realize that he’s reenacting the scene from the book. The start of a smut scene…with you.

Your cheeks couldn’t possibly be redder. Seungmin lets out a chuckle as he reads the next line, “He leans in connecting their lips together as one, moving passionately against one another.”

Seungmin glances back at you as he leans his face dangerously close to yours. You gulp as you notice his eyes flicker down to your lips once more. “Min,” You breath out shakily, hands flying to his biceps.

“You’re so dirty you know that? Getting turned on by me reading a erotic scene…you’re filthy.” You shut your eyes and bite your lip, praying that no sound pours from them at his sudden degradation.

“Oh and look at that, you really are a slut.”

“Fuck.” you groan, your thighs rubbing against each other instinctively. “Their tongues danced against each other as his hands wrapped around the curve of her ass, squeezing at the flesh.”

His hands followed what the book said, trailing along the dip of your back before gently cupping your ass. You stare up at him with anticipating eyes.

“What?” Seungmin tilts his head teasingly, “You want more?” You groan before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and connecting your lips. Seungmin almost jumped in shock, not expecting you to have actually kissed him. He thought that the borderline groping was gonna get him kicked out of your apartment.

Seungmin’s hands stabilize on your hips as your lips move against one another, teeth clashing and tongue gliding along. Grunting as he pushes his hips into yours. “You’re a little shit you know that?” You huff out against his wet, swollen lips.

“Says the person who has an erotic book.” Seungmin cocks his head to the side. You’re suddenly aware of the proximity between the two of your bodies. You bite your lip, yearning to connect his lips to yours once more. As if he read your mind, Seungmin cups your cheeks, licking at the bottom of your lip allowing entry.

Seungmin’s hands trail once more down the curve of your ass, gently massaging at the flesh there. You roll your hips into his with neediness as your tongues move along one another. “Shit,” Seungmin groans, his lips detaching from yours to rest his forehead against your shoulder. “You can’t just do that.”

You peer down at the previously arrogant, teasing boy in front of you, just see his ears bright red. You roll your hips once more to tease him, feeling his hardening cock beneath his slacks. A small groan left his mouth. “And you called me dirty for getting turned on.” You tsked. Seungmin huffed out a laugh.

His grip on your ass suddenly tightens, lifting you onto the counter. The cold marble counter, causing you to let out a shaky gasp. Seungmin takes the opportunity to kiss you once again, his hands smacking lightly at your ass.

He presses his erection into your crotch as he lazily humps into you. You bite your lower lip to stifle your moans, Seungmin notices. He brings his fingers up to your lips, parting them, allowing your sweet moans to slip from your mouth. “Let me hear you, yeah.”

“Can I?” He asked as his fingers trace along the hem of your pajama shorts. You’re quick to nod, wanting everything that your best friend is willing to give. Seungmin’s larger hands slip past the waistband of your shorts, helping you lift your hips to slide them off all the way. You don’t miss the way he stiffens at the sight of your soaked pussy that’s clinging against your panties.

”Shit, you’re such a fucking minx.” Seungmin sighed as he ran his hands up and down your thighs, “Pull this off for me.” Motioning to your shirt, you quickly understand his prompt, lifting it up and over your head. “Fuck, you’re such a slut you know that?”

You moan softly, rubbing your thighs together. You need friction. You need to be touched. You need his touch.

“Min please.” You plead, growing desperate for his touch. “What?” Seungmin cocks his brow at you, “Growing needy are you?” He simply tuts, shaking his head at you. “Min, I swear to God-“

”What?” He tilts his head, “Are you gonna beg for it?”

Frustration clouds your mind leading you to push him off your body, getting off the counter before gently- yet forcibly- pinning him against the counter. “I hate you.” You pout, nonetheless sinking to your knees in front of him. “You say as you’re about to suck my cock like a slut.” You playfully slap his thigh before unzipping his jeans.

You stare at his bulge in front of you. He’s big…not too big that you’d be scared of putting it in you, but just enough to wear it might sting. “Stop staring at it and put your pretty mouth to good use.” As you pull his boxers down, his cock springs out, standing proudly at your face.

Seungmin’s breath hitches as your lips trail kisses along the shaft, making your way to his tip. “Fuck,” A throaty groan pours from the brown haired boy’s mouth as you take him into your mouth. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth- taking me so well.” He grunts between shallow breaths, gripping a handful of your hair tightly.

You never thought Seungmin could be so vocal during sex…you were wrong.

Seungmin guides your head along the length of his cock by the grip of your hair. The slight sting only turning you on even more. Suddenly, he pulls you all the way on him; tip hitting the back of your throat as you gag around him. Your hands fly up to his thighs, patting them to notify him. Seungmin helps you off his cock with a pop.

“You okay?” His tone changes as he watches you cough excessively from the lack of oxygen. “Yeah.” You manage to say between breaths. You finally peer up at him after gathering yourself from almost suffocating on his cock. Seungmin gulps as he sees you teary eyes and wet eyelashes staring up at him in an almost innocent manner.

“Fucking hell.” Seungmin breathes out before raising you up from your knees and placing you on the counter once more. “Fuck, you’re so dirty you know that? I’m gonna fuck you so good, hm.” His rough hands rub along your inner thighs, trailing a bit higher with each passing second.

“God, please do.” You groan, instinctively separating your legs as he strokes himself. “You know the colors?” Seungmin cocks his head at you with a smirk, you eagerly nod in response. “Words.”

“Yes I know the col- oh my fuck!” You let out a moan as he, without warning, moves your panties to the side and rams himself into your throbbing cunt.

He roughly pushes your torso down, hand wrapping around your throat- not to the point where you're lacking oxygen, just a slight pressure. The sounds pouring from your mouth are almost pornographic. Wet squelching and skin against skin noises echoing throughout your kitchen. At the corner of your eye you notice the book that had been forgotten long ago.

Seungmin follows your gaze, with a free hand flipping a page. “God you’re so beautiful, sucking my cock inside your wet pussy.” You groan, though not out of pleasure, but for the fact that at one point you thought reading smutty books was better than experiencing it.

“Stop!” You gasped out, Seungmin glanced over to you and gave you a look, his grip on your neck loosening ever so slightly. “Yellow-“ He stops, “with the book! Keep going though.” Seungmin chuckles at you as he begins to pick up his speed.

“God you’re so beautiful. You know…I’ve liked you for a while.” Seungmin grunts into you, his hand leaving your throat and grasping at your hips to stabilize you. “Minnie- please stop…reading the book.”

“Not reading anything.” He stares at you, “I do like you.” Your body automatically clenches around him, that familiar knot in your stomach threatening to release. “Fuck Min, I like you too-“ Seungmin cuts you off abruptly with his lips. The feeling of both of your bodies together and knowing each other's feelings cause you to both spill over the edge.

Seungmin eased out of you, his warm cum slowly dripping out of your cunt. “Shit you’re so perfect.” Leaning in and placing a kiss on your lips before helping you off the counter.

“You fucked up my back.” You joke as the two of you laid on your bed after cleaning the mess you left in the kitchen. Seungmin raises his eyebrow at you, a small endearing smirk resting on his lips.

taglist: @katsukis1wife @pixie0627

[libraryofgage]

@skullrockbi i hope you don't mind that i wrote a little thing this idea literally haunted me in my dreams and became my paralysis demon (affectionate)

---

Steve didn't even want to go to Vegas. He got dragged along because he's technically an executive-to-be and this whole trip is some networking/ass-kissing venture to secure that executive position. He doesn't know what the point is when his mother owns the company, but here he is.

Worst of all, this trip was scheduled for the summer. In Las Vegas. A literal desert.

Steve isn't some newbie when it comes to Vegas; he's got some family out here that he used to visit every summer. In fact, he'd rather be awkwardly catching up with them right now than standing in front of the Bellagio fountain surrounded by...friends...he guesses.

Honestly, he'd trade just about anything to be back home right now, sprawled across his couch with Robin and a box of pizza.

"Let's visit the Venetian next," Jackson says, grinning as he watches a pair of girls walking by. His eyes linger on their asses, and Steve elbows him roughly.

"Is the casino good?" Eric asks, tugging at the collar of his polo to air out some of the heat.

A breeze pushes by, ruffling Steve's hair in the wind. He huffs, running his fingers through it as the fountain begins its water show. A chorus of oohs and ahhs and camera noises start around them as a cool mist lands on the back of Steve's neck.

"Does it matter? A casino's a casino," Phineas replies.

It does, in fact, matter. Steve bites his tongue, holding back the urge to explain that some casinos are better than others. He's not going to gamble anyway. He's just going to watch the others spend their money and try not to cringe when they jokingly ask him to lend them more from his endless supply.

"Great, Venetia--"

Jackson is cut off by some guy shoving him and Eric aside. The guy completely ignores the offended noises and shouts, coming to a stop right in front of Steve.

He's wearing leather pants and a slightly cropped shirt for some band that sounds vaguely familiar from Robin's ramblings about up-and-coming musicians. Chunky rings decorate his fingers, and Steve tries very hard to not get distracted by them. His hair is wild but utterly defeated by the dry heat of Las Vegas and a subpar shower routine.

Steve opens his mouth to ask what the guy wants when he drops to one knee, staring up at Steve like he's some kind of deity sent from above. "Will you marry me?" he asks.

His voice is rough, like he spends most of his time screaming. Maybe he does, considering the band shirt. A few feet away, Steve can see three other guys in similar outfits sporting the pained grimaces of second-hand embarrassment.

"Are you drunk?" Steve asks.

"On love."

Ignoring the mocking laughter from around them, Steve finds himself inexplicably saying, "You don't even have a ring."

The guy blinks, curses, and quickly yanks one of his rings off. He holds it up with a grin, his cheeks slightly flushed as he asks, "How about now, big boy?"

The ring is shaped like a bat with rubies for eyes and diamonds for fangs. It's so ridiculous that Steve finds it endearing. The guy is being genuine, and that combined with the nickname makes his cheeks warm.

"You don't know my name," Steve says. "I don't know yours."

"Eddie Munson, but I'm not attached to Munson if that's an issue."

Steve can't help laughing, pushing his fingers through his hair again. He watches Eddie's eyes track the movement, his lips slightly parted as though he's breathless from something so innocuous.

He's about to introduce himself and tell Eddie to stand up already (that can't be good for his knees), when Phineas nudges him. "Steve, man, knock it off. You aren't gay," he says, his lip curling in slight disgust at the word.

Steve feels something in him snap, some tight hold on his control just giving up. He has a sudden realization: he hates his job, he hates his coworkers, and he hates who he is around them. He's just never done anything about it.

On the other hand, he finds himself utterly enamored by Eddie's clearly impulsive audacity to approach some random guy on the street and ask for his hand in marriage.

He ignores Phineas and looks back at Eddie. "Why?" he asks.

A hopeful smile tugs at Eddie's lips, and he starts to fidget with the bat ring. "Honestly, you're gorgeous. I've literally never seen anyone as pretty as you, sweetheart," he says.

"Can we have a chuppah? And break a glass?"

"I'd marry you in a vat of tapioca pudding, Stevie."

Steve snorts and reaches out, tugging on Eddie's arm to pull him up from the ground. "Let's just stick to the chuppah and glass," he says.

"Wait, is that a yes?"

"Well, it's not official until you put the ring on," he says, offering Eddie his left hand.

With a shell-shocked awe like he didn't think this would actually work, Eddie slides the ring onto Steve's finger. It's an odd, unexpected weight, but Steve likes it.

Corroded Coffin are celebrating an album release in Vegas. Eddie gets bored of the VIP area at the club & wanders The Strip. Standing at the Bellagio fountain is the most beautiful man he’s ever seen. Eddie pushes past some douchey looking dudes in business casual to reach him.

Eddie falls to one knee. “Will you marry me?” Steve who is bored with his business man life and hates his friends takes one look at this random proposing man with wild hair and leather pants and says “Yes.”

[moonstruckme]

Hey angel!! hope ur doing well!!

i was wondering if I could request roommate!marauders where they have crushes on reader buttt she already has a bf but he's just a total jerk.... and u sorta get the idea?? (if u haven't done one like this already)

much love!!! <3333

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: douchebag boyfriend, marauders fancy reader but don't genuinely want her to cheat or end her relationship for them

(poly)roommate!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

It’s heartbreaking how lovely you look first thing in the morning. Sweet, rumpled pajamas, plodding gait, sunlight stretching over features still soft with sleep. You raise your hand to cover a yawn as you enter the kitchen, eyelashes still drooping like they’ve weights sewn into them. 

“Morning,” you say on the tail end. 

“Morning.” James opens one arm to you. You step into the hug automatically, and he drops a kiss to your head, his own private indulgence. You’re eyeing the omelet he’s frying up with his other hand. “Want one?” 

“Mm, wish I could,” your voice is a somnolent mumble, “but Dale’s taking me to breakfast in a bit.” 

James tries not to react, but his hold on you stiffens some. From the living room, he hears Sirius scoff. “Oh.” 

“I’m sure your omelet would be better.” You pat his side, moving out from under his arm to go to the coffee pot. “We’re going to this cafe he likes, and they never have anything I want. Still, I can hardly show up full.” 

James feels himself frown. Typical of your boyfriend to take you somewhere you don’t even like. Perhaps he’s a tad biased, but James thinks you should eat one of his omelets and show up full just to teach him a lesson. 

He plates up the one he’s just finished. You tail him into the living room as he delivers it to Sirius, curling your feet up underneath you on the couch. Remus is sitting in the armchair reading the paper. He and James have already had their breakfasts, but you and Sirius are always the last up on weekends.

“Are you finished with the funnies?” you ask Remus. 

He looks up at you with a tenderness James doesn’t know how you can’t see. “Yeah,” he says, shaking out a page. “Here.” 

Sirius snickers at your choice of reading material as you reach across him for it. You nudge his thigh with your knee. “Bite me.” 

“Anywhere you’d like me to, babe.” He winks. 

You roll your eyes and fold the page to read, well used to Sirius’ flirting. Similarly to how he’d done with Remus, Sirius’ ill-advised tactic for winning you over involves alternating between taunting you relentlessly and acting like his affection for you is all one big joke. It only barely worked on Remus—James’ interference had been required there, and that was before he’d admitted to himself his own feelings for either of the two boys—so James doesn’t understand why Sirius would give it another go with you. 

“Oh.” Remus closes his paper, seeming to remember something. “I was wondering if you might have time to go with me to the farmer’s market this morning. We’re out of eggs, but I can’t haggle with the woman like you do.” 

You give him a sorry sort of smile. “I would, but Dale’s meant to pick me up at ten.”

“Oh, well.” Sirius rolls his eyes, chewing malignantly on a bite of omelet. “If Dale said he’ll be here at ten, then surely that’s what’s happening.” 

You bump his thigh again good naturedly. “Be nice.” 

James bites his tongue, and even Remus reopens his newspaper with a tad more vigor than necessary. Sirius is by far the most vocal with you about your boyfriend’s flaws, but your roommates all hate him. The guy’s a prick. James would never in a million years try to convince you to leave your partner for them—and despite Sirius’ joking, he knows neither of the other boys would want that either—but if you broke up with Dale, he would be very tempted to throw a party. 

James really doesn’t understand how someone like you could end up with someone so holistically unpleasant as your boyfriend. He’s rude, inconsiderate, he doesn’t express any gratitude for the sweet things you do for him, and he is never where he says he’s going to be when he says he’s going to be there. He shows so little regard for anyone but himself. If he told you he was going to pick you up at ten in the morning, he’s just as likely to arrive at three in the afternoon. Even for your half-hearted defense of him, it’s nearly ten and you’ve made no move to change out of your pajamas or get ready, because you know he won’t be here on time. It irks your roommates to no end to see you tolerate such poor treatment. 

“Maybe you can go with Remus to the farmer’s market,” you tell Sirius. “You seem like you could negotiate.” 

“Sirius doesn’t know how much eggs are supposed to cost,” Remus says idly. 

“Oi!” Sirius objects through a mouthful of omelet. “I do so.” 

James smiles at him. “Really. How much do you think eggs cost, love?” 

Sirius manages to take another bite while James is asking, so his mouth is conveniently too full to answer. 

“I can manage it on my own,” Remus says with indulgent fondness. “Dove, do me one favor, though?” 

You lift your coffee. “Sure.” 

“Don’t let him summon you outside with his horn again.” 

There’s a brief but thick silence while you finish swallowing your coffee and all three boys try not to look too obviously judgmental (Sirius trying the least, naturally). The purse of your lips reveals some embarrassment. 

Still, your voice comes out unconcerned. “It’s not a big deal to me. It’s not like we’re in school and I need him to come to the door and meet my parents. It’s a time saver.” 

“It’s rude,” says Remus gently. “You deserve someone who will come to the door for you.” 

James’ thoughts exactly. 

“Sure you don’t want some toast or something while you wait?” James asks, partly to dispel the tension and partly because he really does think you should eat something if Dale isn’t likely to be here until the afternoon. “You could call it an appetizer.” 

You stand with your emptied coffee mug, passing an affectionate hand over James’ hair as you move between his legs and the coffee table. “Thanks,” you say genuinely, “but I’m alright. I’m going to go get ready.” 

However eager James is to avoid the tension that comes from insulting (or, really, just speaking frankly about) your boyfriend, Sirius has no such concerns. “While we’re telling Dale things,” he says after you, “be sure to remind him that our flat has a three-strike roommate tears policy. Next time you come home crying, Jamie and I get to make a house call.” 

Your laughter echoes down the hallway. “Sure, I’ll let him know.” 

Sirius looks at James, perplexed. “Did I sound like I was joking? I was not using my joking voice.” 

James pats his leg consolingly.

[papaya-twinks]

Idk if this is something weird to request! But I have diagnosed autism, and struggle with so many things because of it, I was wondering if you could write like a lando x autism gf? Maybe where fans make fun of her? Or something! If you’re not comfortable with writing that I understand!🫶

Warnings: I refuse to put autism as a warning. Anyways, crying, mental breakdown.

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader

A/N - I’d never not be uncomfortable writing about conditions/diseases or anything! ❤️❤️

“Y/N, I’m gonna get to the shops, is there anything you- baby, what’s wrong?” Lando cut himself off, his eyes widening as he walked into the lounge to the sound of your sniffles, your knees pulled to your chest.

“Oh, um, nothing,” you said, wiping your eyes hastily, very nearly poking yourself on the eyes in the process, a fake smile forced onto your face as your boyfriend raised a brow.

“Y/N, give me the phone,” Lando said, his voice half-stern, the authority in his tone making it almost hard to say no. “Lando, I-,” you started, hesitant to hand the device over, especially over what you’d read.

“Y/N Y/L/N, you give me that phone right now,” he said, his voice stern as your shoulder dropped in defeat, handing the phone over begrudgingly. He clucked his tongue, opening it with the password - his birthday.

“Why?” Lando said, his voice calmer and softer now as he sat down beside you, “Baby, why do you do this to yourself, why do you reset this bullshit?” he wrapped an arm round you as your lip quivered again.

“I can’t help it, Lando,” you said, your voice cracking, “people keep making fun of me and I’m trying to seem more normal and-and stuff,” you said, your gaze falling down to the floor, your tears falling.

“I’m trying, okay?! I’m trying to seem like a normal girlfriend and not some person whos weird or a freak!” you almost screamed, quoting what those stupid, stupid people online called you.

“Y/N, Y/N!” Lando yelled, his voice matching, and surpassing yours, as he held your shoulders firmly, snapping you out of your breakdown. “I fucking love you, I don’t give a shit what people say!”.

“I know, but dont you read it? They say I’m a-,” you started again as Lando dug his nails into your shoulder, a hiss on your lips. “Dont you fucking dare! Dont you tell me their stupid bullshit, Y/N,”.

“Im sorry,” you said, your voice cracking, “I just- I struggle doing everyday things and I hate asking for help,” you said, your gaze falling once again as Lando sighed, kissing your forehead.

“Then what am I here for, hm?” he tilted your chin up, “I’m supposed to help you, baby,” he kissed your jaw, trailing his lips up to your cheek, as you sighed.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised again, letting him pull you into a hug, holding you til your sniffles died down, slowly rocking your back and forth. “Now what did you want from the shops?” he asked softly.

“Just some crisps or something,” you mumbled. “Yeah, alright,” he nodded, “but I’m taking this,” he pocketed your phone. “If you want to take it,” you shrugged, “I wanna come with you to the shops,”.

“Of course, baby,”.

[jesuistrestriste]

Do u think Patrick would make fun of art of he let the m word slip infront of him.... i think he would BUT then he'd jerk off thinking about his best friend moaning mommy for the next three weeks

well yes !!

like pat and art and you are hanging out after the two of them just finished a recreational doubles match, and art’s all over you. smiling with low lids and melting into your hand on his lower back, shuddering subtly when he feels your fingers dance just under the bottom of his tee shirt and against his sweaty skin. he kinda forgets patrick is even next to him for a bit.

and so when you kiss art goodbye and give him that tender smile that he always sees above him in the bedroom, he kinda slips half-way into subspace and instinctively responds with a “bye, mommy..”

it comes out all syrupy sweet and slides right off his heavy tongue. he doesn’t realize what he’s just done until patrick starts sputtering and then bursts into a fit of laughter the second you’re out of earshot..

he’s doubled over, hands on his knees, tears in his eyes, as he howls and pushes at the blonde’s shoulder.

“oh my god, you dirty little freak!” he teases between gasps of air, straightening up to look at his best friend, “you dog!”

and yikes. maybe he made too big a deal out of it?

art’s hand is over his eyes and his bottom lip is wobbling with embarrassment as he pushes out a harsh fist and punches pat in the back, “fuck off.”

patrick can see the way his cheeks are burning pink. it makes his stomach flip faster than he can process it, and then he’s quickly done laughing at his buddy’s slip-up. now he’s completely transfixed.

oh, art..

he’s always the prettiest when he’s feeling shy.

and now the brunette knew something new about him.. something downright filthy; something that was so predictably him.

like of course art’s into that. why wouldn’t he be?

so patrick clears his throat and chuckles weakly before he mumbles another teasing remark and then slinks off to his car. he’ll apologize later, now he has bigger (more urgent) problems to deal with.

speeds home and shoves his hand down his shorts at every stoplight, palming himself and biting his lip when he thinks about the way the word fell so damn naturally from art’s hot mouth. he then starts to think about all of the gross, pervy things you probably make art do in your guys’ spare time.

you probably force him to hold back his orgasms until he cries. you probably slide your fingers over his tongue and force him to lick up any drool that spills out. you probably fuck him with a strap-on.. and patrick pictures the way art’s body probably jolts with every slap of your hand over his ass.

.. ohh, god yeah…

pat’s just barely turning the corner to his apartment before he has to pull over to the curb and slam on his breaks. he moans and curls over the steering wheel, his hand getting covered in a mess of sticky warmth as he bucks his hips into it to prolong the prickly and perfect sting of aftershock. he drinks in every moment of it. his mind torturously replaying a symphony of “mommy, mommy, mommy, mommy” in art’s dumb, needy voice.

he’s heaving air in and out of his lungs as he comes down, and he knows he’ll be thinking about today every time he wants to get off for the next, hmm, month..? year? it’s hard to say.

[menagerofmischief]

Spill Your Guts (OP81)

summary: after revealing what she listens to in order to wind down, y/n ends up with an invite from her favorite podcast host to appear in the next episode

driver!reader x podcast host!oscar piastri -> habs incoming... series masterlist

cw: not fia approved words, reader teasing lando (they're besties), kissing, fluff, bad flirting, oscar being bullied by hattie

wc: 2.9k

a/n: this one is written + smau, with a bit of different formatting for the podcast episode. this one was fun to write, I hope y'all will like it and show it some love.

-> TAKE 1

“Hi,” you said, flashing a smile to the camera. “I’m Y/n L/n!”

“And I’m Lando Norris,” your teammate, sitting in a chair next to you in the video set up, said while waving his hand. “And we’re McTeammates!”

“Lando,” you said, shaking your head as you turned to look at him. “We talked about this. We drive for McLaren, we’re teammates but,” you lifted a finger up, pointing it at him. “We’re not, McTeammates.”

He rolled his eyes, sticking his tongue out at you. “Whatever you say, McGrumpy!”

“That’s it!” You said, pushing your chair away from the table and standing up. “I’m taking away your Gray’s Anatomy privileges.”

“You can’t do that, you bitch!”

“Try me, you little termite!”

-> TAKE 2

“Hi,” you smiled, lifting your hand up to wave at the camera. “I’m Y/n L/n.”

“Why do you always start?” Lando complained. “Like why isn’t my name first, I’ve been here longer.”

“Because I’m the lead in the championship and your nickname is last lap Lando.”

“That’s so fucking mean, you muppet!” He sobbed, wiping the corner of his eye to add to the dramatic effect. “What’s wrong with you - you know I’m sensitive about that.”

You sighed, putting your hand on his back and rubbing along his spine in a comforting manner. “I’m sorry, Lando, I didn’t mean it.” You said, putting your fingers into his locks and ruffling his hair. “We can do your name first, and you can start the video. How does that sound?”

He looked up at you, eyes shining with excitement, the previous dramatics instantly gone as he started nodding his head. “Deal! No take backsies!”

-> TAKE 3

“Hi!” Lando said, his voice full of enthusiasm as he waved at the same with a big grin. “I’m Lando Norris.”

“And I’m Y/n L/n!” You said, smiling at the came and praying this take was going to work out because if you had to start this video over one more time you were going to strangle your teammate.

“Today we’re answering your questions. which you had the chance to send us on Instagram and we put them in this bowl.” Lando explained, holding up the said bowl full of folded papers.

You pushed your hand into the bowl, running your fingers over the papers before grabbing one and pulling it out. You unfolded the paper, looking down at the printed words. “What is Lando afraid of?” You read the question, laughing a little. “Fish!”

“Hey!” He interrupted, snatching the paper from your hands. “It’s my question I’m supposed to answer!” He looked down at the paper, humming while nodding his head. “I’m also afraid of the dark.”

You bit your lip to stop yourself from making a comment, wanting badly to tease him about saying he was afraid of the dark. 

Satisfied with his reply, Lando threw the paper away and dug into the bowl for the next one. He unfolded the paper, clearing his throat dramatically before reading out the question. “What does Y/n L/n listen to, to wind down?” His eyes snapped up, looking into yours. “Uh, I know this one!”

“I don’t care,” you replied, snatching the paper from his hands. “It’s my question.” You told him, returning his previous words back to him, which made him pout. “To wind down, especially after a race I listen to a podcast hosted by some Aussie guy named Oscar. The podcast is called Spill Your Guts, it has no specific theme and the host is a funny guy. Plus, he sounds cute.”

“I could have answered that!” Lando said, poking your arm with his finger. “I knew your answer word for word.”

“I’m sure you did Lando,” you said, nodding your head at him. “Now why don’t you pull out the next question?”

It’s a few days later, the video already long gone from your mind, when you walk into your driver’s room after a practice and flop directly onto the couch as soon as your helmet and balaclava are off, letting your body mold into the cushions after the exhausting practice.

You grab your phone and open it, eyes focusing on the new massage you had gotten while you were in the car. Your expression is confused as your eyes swipe over the number, not recognizing whose it is.

You enter the chat and after a brief moment of hesitation, you reply.

Your hands are shaking as you try your best to shove your phone into your pocket before jumping up, a scream tearing from your throat before you’re running to Lando’s driver’s room.

“Lando!” You yell, grabbing the door handle and pushing his doors open without knocking. He stops dead in his tracks and turns around to face you.

Lando holds both hands up, his mouth full of a chocolate doughnut that is half sticking out. He quickly grabs the part that’s sticking out and pulls it out of his mouth, swallowing the rest as fast as he can. “Don’t tell my trainer, please!”

Your eyes slide over to the half a doughnut in his hands and you shake your head at him. “I don’t care about that,” you tell him. “You’ll never believe what happened!”

“Max Verstappen got a 100 points penalty and you secured the championship?” He offers, deciding to finish his doughnut while he has a chance. 

“No, I don’t think that’s possible,” you tell him. “But it would be great! What was I saying? Oh, yes!” You clap your hand before putting them on his shoulders and shaking him. “Oscar Piastri invited me to star in an episode?”

“Who?” He asks, his voice muffled by the treat in his mouth.

“The Spill Your Guts, guy!”

“You got invited to Spill Your Guts!?” Lando asks, swallowing the doughnut before looking at you with a smile. “You’re going to be on an episode of your favorite podcast?”

“Yes!” You laughed, smiling at him.

“How?”

You grabbed Lando’s hand and moved him over to the couch, flopping down into a comfortable position, you patted the spot next to you, signaling for your teammate to sit down. Once he did, you cracked your fingers and locked your eyes with his. “Okay, so…” and then started explaining.

OSCAR: Hello everyone! Welcome to tonight's episode of Spill Your Guts. Tonight’s guest is definitely the most famous person I’ve ever had sitting opposite of me if you don’t count my sister, with her 120k TikTok followers. Anyways, it’s my pleasure to welcome Y/n L/n to the studio!

Y/N: Hi, Oscar! And hello to everyone who’s listening in tonight. The pleasure is all mine really - I’m honestly so excited to be here. Just ask Lando, I’m pretty sure he’s gone deaf from all my screaming.

OSCAR: [laugh] Okay Y/n, settle in and fasten your seat-belt, we’re starting.

Y/N: I’m ready!

OSCAR: I’m sure you’ve been asked this many times but what’s it like being a Formula 1 driver?

Y/N: Thrilling. Every race week is a new adventure and the sport is really competitive so you’re constantly trying to prove yourself and set new records. There’s really no time to slow down.

OSCAR: I’ll be honest, it sounds a bit exhausting. Now, if you were a driver what would you be?

Y/N: Maybe a doctor [sigh] I’ve always been interested in medicine but racing is my life. But yeah, if I wasn’t a racer I’d probably want to pursue a career in medicine.

OSCAR: [hum] I can see it. You’d look good in scrubs. [both laugh] What’s your favorite Grand Prix?

Y/N: Two words Oscar - Las Vegas!

OSCAR: That’s a night race, yeah? Seem fun. Are you ready for some rapid fire questions now?

Y/N: Go right ahead, pretty boy.

OSCAR: [nervous laugh] Okay then, ready steady go! Wet or dry?

Y/N: Wet.

OSCAR: Monza or Monaco?

Y/N: Monza!

OSCAR: Blondes or brunettes?

Y/N: Brunettes [laugh] Australian ones preferably.

OSCAR: [very loud laugh] How cold are the ice baths?

Y/N: Very fucking cold.

OSCAR: Vettel or Alonso?

Y/N: None of them - Rosberg. Catch the reference. 

OSCAR: I did! Catch the reference, that’s it. I watched that video to come up with questions.

Y/N: Oh, is the next question bums of boobs then? Because bums for sure.

OSCAR: That was not a question but thank you for answering it either way. Let me take a quick peek at the chat. boy4norizz wants to know who’s your favorite F1 teammate?

Y/N: [loud laugh] Oh God, Lando I’m gonna kill you! So, the only answer I can give you is Lando, because he’s the only teammate I’ve had in F1. But if I had another, it would definitely be them.

OSCAR: Cats or dogs?

Y/N: I like both but if I had to pick - dogs. I’ve got a dog actually, a goldie. His name’s Apollo.

OSCAR: I love goldies!

Y/N: You should come meet mine sometimes. 

OSCAR: I might take you up on that. Now, last I checked you are the current lead in the championship, right? How does that feel?

Y/N: Still feels a bit unreal, if I’m being honest. Obviously every driver dreams about winning the WDC, and obviously only half of the season is done so I don’t want to be getting ahead of myself with the talk, but to actually be in the lead and have such a big chance to win it feels amazing.

OSCAR: I hope you do win it.

Y/N: Oh! [small pause] Does that mean you’ll be cheering on me?

OSCAR: Absolutely! You mentioned half of the season being done so that means summer break is approaching right?

Y/N: Yes, summer break starts after the next race.

OSCAR: Got any plans for the break?

Y/N: Depends. Are you free?

[few moments of silence and then both start laughing]

OSCAR: [catching his breath] Alright, thank you everyone for tuning in - and thank you to Y/n, for joining us. Enjoy the rest of your night.

liked by yourusername, landonorris, mclaren, hattiepiastri and 12,864 more

oscarpiastri: Another thank you to F1 star, Y/n L/n for joining us in tonight's episode of Spill Your Guts. And thank you for bringing the merch! Go stream the episode if you missed it!

tagged: yourusername

comments:

user01: call me crazy but they have so much chemistry

user423: you're not crazy girl, I literally felt like I was intruding userr: same! and her inviting him to meet her dog!! if they don't date I'll kms

ynsmclaren2: 'do you have plans' 'depends, are you free' WELCOME BACK SEBASTIAN VETTEL

user3: no because I literally screamed when I heard that userss: preach sister. they sound so good together I need them to date

yourusername: it was an amazing experience, 10/10 host would come back

oscarpiastri: dibs on getting the first interview when you win your championship? yoursername: deal user33: oh they're down bad

hattiepiastri: you're embarrassing me, you have her number use it

oscarpiastri: I'm telling mom you're mean to me hattiepiastri: do it no balls, she likes me more user454: I live for hattie bullying oscar

You look into the mirror one more time, raising your hands up to smooth down your hair for God knows what time that night. You push yourself forward, practically leaning over the desk so your face is directly in front of the mirror and run your finger over the edge of your bottom lip, making sure corners of your lipstick aren’t smudged. 

“Stop that!” Lando says, picking up a makeup brush from the bed and throwing it at you. It’s times like these that make you wonder why you agreed to go on vacation with him. “You look great! I’m sure the pastry boy’s jaw is gonna dislocate from how hard it’s going to drop when he sees you.”

“That’s … definitely a mental image.” You reply, picking up the brush from the floor and throwing it back at him. “I’m nervous,” you admit, picking on the bits of skin next to your nails.

Lando gets up from the bed and approaches you. He smiles and lifts a hand up to pat your shoulder before deciding to pull in for a quick hug. “There’s no need to be.You’re a catch and if he screws us it’s his loss.”

You bite your lip, teeth digging into your bottom lip as you think it over. “Yeah, you’re right. Come on, I’m gonna be late.”

After pushing Lando out of your room you grab your purse and exit the room. The elevator ride down to the lobby feels like a small eternity, your stomach tied in knots by the time you finally step out in the lobby.

You make your way outside, a lump in your throat as you look around the busy street. Your eyes finally meet his and it’s like time slows down. He’s leaning against his car, dressed casually in pants and a T-Shirt, and holding a small bouquet of flowers.

You smile as you approach him and he mirrors your smile with his own. “These are for you,” he says, offering you the bouquet. “You look breathtaking.”

“Thank you,” you reply, taking the flowers from him, your fingers brushing against his. “And you don’t look bad yourself.”

He laughs in response, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards into a smile. He grabs the car door handle and opens the door, gesturing at it with his free arm. “Shall we?”

You can help but laugh, nodding your head you get into the car and he closes the door, going around the car and sitting in the driver's seat. “Where are we going?” You ask, settling back into the seat and pulling on your seat-belt.

“A little restaurant I used to go to with my parents and sisters when I was younger,” he tells you, starting the car. “Trust me, you’ll love it.”

f1wagupdates: new WAG in the paddock?

current championship lead and famous mclaren driver Y/n L/n, was spotted having an intimate dinner with Oscar Piastri, podcast host of Spill Your Guts, which L/n starred on and mentioned it being her favorite podcast.

after the episode she appeared in fans noted the flirting between L/n and Piastri. are the two finally together?

comments:

ynsmclaren2: I'm very happy for them but why don't we give them some privacy instead of photographing them going out to dinner

user332: hell yeah! my otp is real

user441: they look so cute together, I ship it

oscarpiastri: the term WAG stands for wives and girlfriends and is used for partners of athletes mostly because they are straight men dating women. the appropriate term to use in this situation is HAB because that stands for husbands and boyfriends and is therefore the same things as a WAG but for the other gender

oscarpiastri: if you're gonna gossip at least do it right user77: he ate I fear user667: f1wagsupdates you've been real quiet since this comment

oscarpiastri: #HABandproud

user11: please I love him user334: mclaren's media team is gonna have a field day user102: protect him from pr training at all costs

tap to load more comments...

“Stop biting your nails, it’s disgusting” Hattie said, slapping Oscar’s hand away from his mouth.

Oscar tore his attention off from the screen to glare at his sister before returning it to the screen once more. This was it, Abu Dhabi Grand Prix.

You and Max were tied in the points and this was not only the final race of the season but also the race that determined who would win the championship. Of course he was biting his nails, he was nervous.

“And to think mom said you’d never get a girlfriend sitting in a studio and hosting a podcast.” Hattie said, bringing a glass of water up to her lips and drinking from it.

“Why are you even here?” Oscar asked his sister.

“Your girlfriend invited me,” Hattie replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “She likes me more than you.”

Oscar was about to reply but the only thing that came out of his mouth was a gasp as he completely focused on what was playing out. He felt Hattie grab his hand, her nails digging into his skin.

“Verstappen is attempting a rather risky overtake on L/n, can she defend?” He heard the voice of the commentator ring out through the speakers. The whole crowd seemed to silence down as they watched the battle for first place, for the championship.

“Last lap, they can both see the checkered flag but who will cross it first?” Oscar held his breath. “Verstappen going wide … but L/n leaves no space! She moves fast, she moves fast and SHE CROSSES THE FINISH LINE!”

Oscar winced as Hattie screamed into his ear, both of them hugging each other before running down with the rest of the team to greet you when you got out of the car.

You pulled yourself out from the car, your heart practically in your throat, vision blurry with tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. You pulled your helmet and balaclava off, each searching the crows until they landed on Oscar who was smiling at you.

Without as much as a second thought you ran up to him, throwing your arms around him and kissing him. He kissed you back, full of passion, and his arms stroked your back.

When you finally pulled away he had the biggest smile on his face, lifting his hand up to cup your cheek. “So, about that championship win interview?”

You laughed, leaning your cheek into his hand. “It’s a date.”

tag list:

p1 @formula1-motogpfan @misty-inferno @thelemonque3n @marvel-hotchner @strangemaximoff

p2 @folkloresreputation @pippyth3hippy @adharacamdridge @theseerbetweenus @sebastianstansblog

p3 @tellybearryyyy @six-call @grussellsprout @oikarma @justcharlotte

p4 @annimausi @kodeelynn @schniti-is-in-the-house @cinnvmonrolls @cmleitora

[rootedinrevisions]

The Rough Side of Hangman's Girl

SUMMARY: You’ve always been the quiet one, the kind of girl who prefers soft laughter to loud crowds, and gentle touches over wild passions. But Jake “Hangman” Seresin has a way of drawing out the side of you no one else gets to see. When he steps into your world, he doesn’t just turn your life upside down—he pushes you beyond every boundary you thought you had. Now, with his intense gaze and unyielding hold, you find yourself craving every rough touch, every whispered command.

A/N: Thank you to the person who send me the DM about this request! This one was so fun to write! I really hope you like it and I did your request justice.

Also the way Glen/Jake is biting his lip in this GIF does something to me so I had to include it!

PROMPT: "Don't be gentle with me-I like it when you're rough."

WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, P in V sex, spanking.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

TAG LIST: SEE COMMENTS

If you would like to be added to any of my Tag Lists please feel free to comment, send an ask, or send a DM and I'll be happy to get you added! Below are the fandoms I currently write for.

Glen Powell (himself and the characters he's played)

Top Gun: Maverick (Hangman, Rooster, possibly others soon)

Marvel / MCU (Bucky Barnes as of now, but possibly others soon)

WWE / Wrestling

The door shut softly behind you, and you barely had a second to breathe before Jake had you pressed against the wall. His hands were braced on either side of your head, his body so close you could feel the heat radiating from him, grounding you and sending your pulse racing all at once. His mouth met yours, warm and teasing, before his lips trailed down to your neck, peppering kisses along your skin with unhurried confidence.

His lips skimmed over a sensitive spot just beneath your ear, and you felt the heat bloom across your cheeks.

A quiet hum escaped you, and you felt Jake’s lips curve into a smirk against your skin. “Jake…” you whispered, the request barely audible, but he heard it. “Bite me.”

He froze for a second, pulling back just enough to catch your eye, his eyebrows raising in surprise. That trademark smirk spread across his face as he took you in, a low chuckle escaping him.

“Didn’t know you had that in you, sweetheart,” he drawled, the endearment roughened by a hint of mischief. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Your eyes met his, emboldened by his reaction. “Don’t be gentle with me,” you murmured, your voice soft but steady. “I like it when you’re…rough.”

Jake’s gaze darkened, his tongue flicking over his bottom lip as he considered your words, his smile turning wicked. “My sweet girl has a dirty side, hmm?” He teased, pressing closer. His voice dropped to a murmur as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “Well, I can give you exactly what you want.”

His hands moved to your waist, fingers pressing firmly as he lifted you slightly, pressing you tighter against the wall.

He leaned in, his lips grazing yours as his voice softened to a rough whisper. “But remember you asked for this.”

Jake’s hands gripped your waist firmly as he lifted you, carrying you down the hallway to your bedroom, his stride confident and purposeful. You wrapped your arms around his neck, heart pounding with anticipation as you looked up at him. There was a smoldering intensity in his eyes you hadn’t seen before–something darker, an edge to his usual smirk that made your pulse race even faster.

He pushed open the door with his shoulder, guiding you in and setting you down just beside the bed. His fingers were immediately at your waist, slipping under the fabric of your top, pulling it up over your head in one swift motion. There was no hesitation in his movements, no teasing pace–he was stripping away every article of clothing with a sense of urgency, his touch rougher than usual, more intense.

“Turn around for me,” he murmured, his voice low and commanding as he pressed a hand against your back, guiding you to face away from him.

You felt a thrill shoot through you as you did what he asked, your breath hitching when his hands moved to the waistband of your jeans, tugging them down with a rough pull, taking everything with them until you were bare under his gaze.

“Get on the bed,” he said, voice gruffer than usual.

His hand rested on your lower back, urging you forward until you were positioned on all fours. The air was thick with anticipation, and just as you settled, you felt his fingers thread into your hair, tugging firmly as he leaned over you, his breath warm against your ear. 

“Head down,” he murmured, the quiet dominance in his tone making you shiver. His grip tightened as he pushed your head down to the comforter, his other hand settling on your hip, holding you firmly in place. “And keep that pretty little ass up for me tonight,” he added, his voice laced with a roughened edge that made warmth spread through you instantly.

The weight of his hand, the way he held you down, his voice steady and unyielding–it was already too much, and you pressed your thighs together instinctively, unable to hide the effect he was having on you.

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart,” he murmured, catching the subtle movement. “We’ve only just started.”

Your thighs pressed together instinctively, seeking some relief from the tension that was building faster than you could contain. Jake’s amused chuckle resonated in the quiet, his tone edged with a kind of pride and surprise.

Without hesitation, he placed a knee on the bed, leaning in. His hand rested on your hip as he pushed your legs apart again, his knee pressing gently yet firmly, guiding you until you were as exposed and vulnerable as he wanted.

“Keep them like that,” he ordered, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill down your spine .”Or there’ll be consequences. Understood?”

A breathless nod was all you could manage, your face turned into the comforter, heat spreading over your skin. But before you could prepare yourself, you felt the sharp, sudden sting of his hand landing across you, and a gasp escaped your lips, followed by an involuntary moan that hung in the air. Your cheeks flushed deeper, the thrill mingling with a hint of a surprise that you couldn’t hide.

“Oh, now that’s something, isn’t it?” Jake murmured, his tone dripping with amusement as he ran his hand over the spot where his hand had landed, lingering to savor the reaction he’d pulled from you. “My sweet girl likes being spanked, hmm?”

The words made your breath hitch, and just as you felt your body start to melt into his touch, another sharp smack landed, this time harder. Another moan escaped, unbidden, and you felt his fingers spread possessively over your skin, his touch heavy with control and satisfaction.

He leaned in close, his voice a rough whisper as his hand stayed firmly in place. “Keep that up, and I’ll give you exactly what you’re begging for,” he teased, the promise in his voice making you shiver as you instinctively pressed back into his hand, craving more of the intensity he was unraveling in you.

“Look at you,” he murmured, almost to himself, his voice a low, raspy drawl. “Didn’t think my sweet girl who blushed when I kissed her would be into this…but you’re loving it, aren’t you?”

He traced his hand slowly down the curve of your back, a trail of goosebumps left in its wake as he took his time, letting every inch of his touch ignite something deeper. As his fingers reached your thighs, you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing them together again, the ache building so intensely that you couldn’t help it.

But Jake was quick, his hand gripping the inside of your thigh, pushing your legs apart once more.

“Oh no, darlin’,” he whispered, the authority in his voice like nothing you’d heard from him before. “You keep those pretty legs open for me, or we’re gonna have a problem.”

You swallowed hard, nodding, breathless, and his lips brushed against your neck, warm and teasing, before he took hold of your hip, his fingers pressing into your skin with a possessive grip. You could feel the firmness of his body behind you, every inch of him taut and ready, the anticipation was overwhelming.

One hand was still on your hip, he let his other hand drift lower, fingers trailing through your folds, which had you quivering, aching for more. His thumb pressed down on your clit, testing you and the faintest pressure was enough to send a jolt through you.

“You’re already so worked up,” he murmured with a satisfied chuckle, his tone full of dark promise. “Practically dripping, and I haven’t even gotten inside you yet.”

And then, he took it a step further–he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you back against him, his movements more unrestrained, less careful than usual, his body pressed firmly into yours. His hand slid up to your shoulder, gripping it just tight enough to hold you in place as he leaned down, his lips brushing your ear. 

“Hope you’re ready for this, sweetheart,” he whispered, voice rough with both desire and restraining. “Cause I’m not holding back this time.”

With that, he guided his tip against your folds, taking his time as he ran it up and down, letting the anticipation build until you could barely take it anymore. His touch was rough and demanding, and you were more than ready, practically melting into him as he finally, slowly, pushed himself inside you, savoring every reaction, every gasp, as he showed you exactly what you’d been craving.

Jake’s grip tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your skin with a roughness he’d never shown before like he couldn’t help himself. Every thrust was harder than the last, his movements quick and relentless, sending a wave of pleasure through you that left you gasping, clinging to the sheets for support. His rhythm had lost its usual restraint, each motion fueled by something you’d never felt from him before. And it left you breathless, lost in sensation.

You barely had time to catch your breath before his hand came down on you again, a swift, sharp smack that sent a shockwave of heat through you. A moan escaped before you could stop it, louder than before, your body instinctively arching into his touch. 

The sound seemed to fuel him, and he chuckled, low and rough, clearly reveling in how unabashedly you were responding. “God, I love how loud you’re being for me,” he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. “Didn’t know my sweet girl could get so worked up.”

His hand slid along your skin before coming down again with another smack, drawing another moan from you, your voice catching as you felt the sharp warmth spread over your skin.

With each sound you made, he seemed to grow more unrestrained, his hands gripping you together, his pace unrelenting as he moved, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, as though he wanted to pull every last gasp and moan from you.

The pressure of his hands on your hips was almost overwhelming, holding you so firmly that you knew you’d feel his touch lingering on you long after that night.

“You’ve been holding out on me, haven’t you?” he murmured, his voice dark and teasing, his breath hot against your skin as he leaned closer, his movements never slowing. “Making me think you were all innocent. But here you are, moaning like you were made for this.”

The combination of his words and his movements left you teetering on the edge, your body completely in sync with his rhythm, every rough touch and commanding word pulling you further under his spell. And as he kept moving, kept pushing you closer and closer, you couldn’t hold back, couldn’t stop yourself fro giving in completely to the way he was taking you apart, thrust by thrust, with no intention of stopping until he’d made you his in every possible way.

Jake could feel you tightening around him, each thrust pulling you closer to the edge. Your body was trembling beneath him, and the way you were clenching told him you were almost there. He couldn’t hold back anymore. He needed to push you over the edge, needed to hear you scream his name.

“Get up on your elbows,” he commanded, his voice harsh but laced with desire. You obeyed without hesitation, your body responding instantly to his words. The new angle was almost too much–his hands gripped your shoulders, pulling you back into him, and suddenly the depth of his thrusts was hitting you in all the right ways. You gasped, your head falling back, and your back arched as his cock slammed into you with an intensity that left you breathless.

“Oh, fuck,” Jake cursed under his breath, his hands moving to your hips to help guide you, pulling you back into him with each stroke. He loved how you felt around him, how responsive you were, how loud you were–everything about this moment sent him spiraling. “God, you’re so fucking loud. I love it. Don’t stop…don’t stop making those noises for me.”

You could barely hold onto the sheets, the overwhelming pleasure radiating through your body, the new angle pushing him right to that spot inside of you that made your entire body seize. His words, his voice, everything about the way he was fucking you–faster, harder–was enough to send you crashing toward the edge.

“Let go for me, baby,” Jake growled, his voice rough with hunger. “I want to hear you scream my name.”

That did it. A shock of pleasure surged through you, your body spasming as you cried out his name, the wave of ecstasy washing over you, pulling you under completely. You felt him jerk inside of you, his breath ragged as he pushed you through it, holding you tight as your body quivered with aftershocks. You moaned his name again, your voice breathless, as the final release hit you both at the same time.

Jake’s grip on your hips tightened as you both finished, your bodies trembling, chest heaving as you collapsed together onto the comforter. 

Neither of you could catch your breath at first, the room heavy with the sound of your labored breathing. His hand brushed a strand of hair from your face as he pulled you closer, the warmth of his body a grounding force after the intense release.

“That was…goddamn,” Jake murmured, his voice rough, but there was a softness behind it now, a gentleness as he ran his hand over your back. “You okay?”

You nodded, still catching your breath, unable to form words just yet. He smiled, his lips brushing over your forehead as you both laid there, tangled up in each other, feeling the afterglow of everything that had just happened.

“Good,” he whispered, holding you a little tighter, feeling the contentment between you both settle in. “I’m not done with you yet.”

[tapiocakisses]

BREEDING JJK MEN incl. satoru gojo, nanami kento, choso kamo, + sukuna ryomen

tags – bottom satoru/nanami/choso/sukuna, trans choso (tdick mention), trueform sukuna, no ronouns used for reader, gn reader (can be amab or afab)

warnings – breeding, teasing (sukuna), lactation (sukuna), dirty talk, nipple play (ish), mating press (choso), words "cock" and "dick" used to describe reader's genitalia / strap.

notes – may be a little ooc & kinda rushed on choso's part. sorry. :((

With Satoru, it's a slip of the tongue. It could've come from either of you at this point, but in the high of pleasure, all you two cared about was basking in the ecstasy of each other. You did what any reasonable person would do; you grabbed Satoru's hips and lifted them off the bed, pushing your dick further into him. Satoru kept his locked ankles on the dip of your back, pushing your hips against his some more. If you or him had any sense of clarity right now, you'd be worried about bruising your pelvis from the pressure of the contact. His moans and pleas were loud and desperate. “Please, [name]! Oh, fuck! Right there! Fuck me full! Don't stop! I – I want your cum… breed me, please.” He begged and pleaded until his voice gave out and all he could do was moan and whine. Satoru was always good at begging when he wanted something. The sad puppy eyes, how he slumps against your back when he spoons you, whining incoherently, and peppering kisses to your neck. During sex was different, though. Satoru's eyes glistening from tears, his face and neck flushed a pretty red, plump lips parted, and his back arched off the bed. Each moan and whine had a new pitch that always made these moments sweeter. You press yourself against Satoru and grab his face. "I'll make you a dad, 'toru. You're gonna be so pretty leaking my cum." You whisper, pressing a kiss to his lips. It was sweet and loving. A big contrast from how you were fucking him right now.

Nanami is a different story. He doesn't even know he likes the idea of being bred until it slips out of his mouth. He's always so composed and put together in the beginning of sex. Always a hint of shame in his voice when he starts telling you all his fantasies. He's a more gentle lover and admitting he had such fantasies embarrassed him. It started with you pulling his hair, then choking him with his tie, then fucking him on his car… He liked being subservient. Ready to please you and follow your rules. When a desperate panting of, "Please. Fill me up." escapes your husband's lips, you can't help but comply. Your hips stop for a moment as you shift Nanami's hips so you can plunge into him deeper. You lean over your husband and bring a hand to touch his cheek. “You asking me for a baby? You want me to fill you with cum? Make you a daddy now?” You whisper, a newfound tenderness in your voice. Nanami only nods. The look in his eyes was hazy. He was always like this when he was submissive. Easily falling into a blissful state of contentment. "Yes." Nanami rasps out. You grab his hands, lacing your fingers together, and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Then I'll give you one. Lay back and relax, handsome."

Choso is shy about it. He had brought it up at some point. He surprises you by laying in bed, naked with his legs spread, pussy on display. a shakily written ‘breed’ and an arrow pointing between his legs were on his stomach. It was really a sight to see. Choso always seemed so cautious around the idea of sex. He was always a bit of a pervert, though. This… This seemed like a big jump from where you two were. Not like you were complaining about it. The flushed, hazy expression on his face when you worked him open on your fingers and sunk him onto your cock was always worth it. Pressing Choso's thighs against his abdomen as you pistoned your cock into him was pure bliss. "Mmmph! [Name]! P - Please… Fill me up. I've been good. Wanna be a dad. I wanna be full." He rambled, hands grabbing at the back of your neck, holding you down against his body. Choso loved the intimacy and closeness when you fucked. He loved touching and being touched. "I'll give you whatever you want, Cho." You promised, voice barely above a whisper.

Sukuna is a stubborn bastard. It’s basically in his blood to make things more difficult to test people’s resolve. It isn’t any different with you. No matter what position he's in, he's making demands. Telling you how to fuck him, grabbing you to touch or move just right, sometimes digging his nails into your skin to keep you in place. This time is hardly any different. There was this one thing. You found out a secret of his during sex – Sukuna lactates. It was an accident. You swear it. You grabbed one of his pecs, feeling a little swollen under your touch. It was purely to make a little joke on your part, so you gave it a light squeeze and watched as a small dribble of white liquid - milk - dripped out. You turned to your boyfriend, expecting some kind of harsh reaction, but he looked dazed. Maybe that wasn't the right word, but Sukuna was always hard to read. No words were said as you tried again, watching as more milk dribbled out. “Awh… look at you. Feels good, doesn't it?” You coo at him, slowly brushing your thumb over his leaking nipple, gliding the milk around the sensitive nub. “Maybe I should get you pregnant. This can't be wasted.”  You smirked at Sukuna, watching him break under you with every thrust. “You'd like that, wouldn't you?” He hissed out, head falling back onto the pillows as he attempted to give you a look of hatred. He didn't hate you. He was embarrassed. The problem is that Sukuna's eyes always betray him during sex. His usual pissed-off expression is contradicted by the haze in his eyes and the redness of his face. “well? go on then,” he muttered after a few moments of silence. his legs spread slightly more, letting your dick push deeper into him.

tags – @kentophilia

[peachysunrize]

Empty Promises ⥃ Dark!Aemond Targaryen

Summary: the closeness between you and your twin brother doesn’t go unnoticed by your uncle, but your bond will shatter when he is betrothed to your cousin, lightening a new path for Aemond to get his revenge.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!! Dark!Aemond, manipulation, DUB CON KIND OF? main pairing: Aemond x Strong!reader (Rhaenyra’s daughter/Jace’s twin), side pairing: Jace x twin!reader (They’ll end pretty quickly lol), JACE AND READER ARE 18!! targcest, incest, mentions of pregnancy, p in v sex, breeding, rough sex, degradation, English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 4.6k+

A/n: so heheh I received this ask and rambled about it to beloved @anjelicawrites and she helped me with this one shot!!! Tell me what you think about this one shot, lovies, and don’t forget to reblog and comment!!!

“Mm, maybe we should keep our distance during our stay here,” Jace mumbles against your lips, his arms wrapped around your waist as he corners you to a wall, “We might get caught,”

“But why? Mother said it herself that we are to be betrothed soon! It would not raise any suspicions.” You try to lean down for another kiss, but he pulls back a little, his warm hand resting on your cheek, “Besides, we have already done more than just kissing, yet I am still a maiden!”

“That you are, beloved sister,” he presses a quick kiss to your cheek, backing away from you as soon as he hears a rush of footsteps in your direction, “Do not pout.”

“I’m not pouting!” you scoff, looking away from him as you cross your arms over your chest. “But I am displeased with you! You promised we would be wed soon and that we ought to wait until we are husband and wife to explore… different sides of our companionship.”

“Because tainting your purity is the last thing I want, my love,” he reaches to loop your arm through his, kissing the side of your head before he looks at Luke who jogs toward you, “What is it you want, Luke? Can’t you see I’m busy?”

“Busy doing what? Annoying our sister?” Luke looks between the two of you, raising his eyebrows as he sees your flushed face and Jace’s swollen lips, “Or perhaps being inappropriate with our sister—“

“Mind your tongue, Luke,” you say, tightening your arm around Jace’s, looking at him pleadingly, knowing your younger brother’s big mouth that always gets you and your twin in trouble, “Do not make me mad, it will not end well for you.”

“I wish mother would betroth you two already, it is awfully obvious how… involved you are with each other,” Luke shrugs, walking ahead of you, forcing you and your brother to join him, “You must be careful, this place has eyes and ears and they are already looking at us with disgust.”

“Lucerys,” you sigh, resting your head on Jace’s shoulder, smiling softly when he kisses your forehead, his lips lingering on your forehead too long for the court’s liking, “Don’t let them win, little brother. Do not give them a chance to belittle us, we are Princess Rhaenyra’s children. Silver-haired or not, we have royal blood surging in our hearts.”

“She is correct,” Jace cups your cheek in his hand, his warm eyes looking into yours — identical to his — before he leans down to whisper against your lips, “We might not have the hair, but we own the name, and the costumes.”

“That is right,” you press a quick kiss to his lips grinning when he does not look away from you, groaning when Luke makes a gagging sound. You look at your younger brother, raising your eyebrows at his visibly disgusted expression, “One day, you will hold such affection for a lady, and we shall get to tease you for it endlessly!”

“I doubt we would need to wait for long, dear sister,” Jace smiles, his hand coming to rest on your waist, gently squeezing you before he resumes talking, “Have you noticed how flushed he gets when Rhaena talks to him—“

“Nephews.”

There they are.

The infamous Dragon princes, walk with their heads held high and chin tilted up as they both stare down at the three of you over their noses.

Aegon is just as you remember from years ago; he has unruly hair and a lazy smirk as he stares at the three of you.

Your younger uncle though, is much more put together; his hair is tied out of his face, neatly brushed and shining while he scans the entire hallway from one corner to the other, his gaze lingering on you and Jace’s linked arms.

“Niece,” Aemond says, his good eye solely focusing on you, ignoring the terrified faces of your brothers who try to play it cool without staring daggers at Aegon who tries to intimidate them by only smirking. The younger Targaryen brother, though, does not show how he feels up front, just cocking his head to the side as he starts talking, “How you have grown to a lady, dark hair and all.”

“Thank you, Uncle,” you reply, face as stoic as possible but soon the mask slips and you look at your twin brother and smile radiantly, enjoying how safe his arm feels around yours, “But it seems with all the years passing, your eye hasn’t grown back.”

“My, she’s got a mouth on her,” Aegon chuckles, running a hand through his tangled hair as he snickers at Aemond.

“Indeed she has,” Aemond says, stepping forward, closing the distance between you, and glancing at Jace who pulls you closer to him, his brown eyes meeting Aemond’s bright blue orb, “No wonder she has her dog running around her, sniffing and barking when threatened.”

“Easy, easy,” Aegon laughs, putting a hand on Jace’s chest when the dark-haired prince strides closer. Aegon holds him back, glancing at Luke who tries to appear brave while he trembles and looks between his siblings and uncles, “My brother is… too honest for his own good, nephew.”

“He is rude,” you whisper, chest heaving as Aemond leans even closer, towering over you as he raises a hand to your exposed neck, caressing the skin with the back of his fingers, until he reaches the neckline of your dress, slowly tracing the outline of the blue mark that is lightly visible.

“Hmmm,” Aemond’s eye drops to the mark before he drags his gaze up to your face, taking in your flustered expression, before he looks at Jacaerys, “It appears you are trying hard to get accustomed to Targaryen costumes, my Lord and Lady Strong. Such… proximity is seen as inappropriate in this castle. Mayhaps you have forgotten the rules of the king’s court.”

“Jace, don’t listen to him,” you sigh shakily, looking away from Aemond before tugging on Jace’s hand, stepping away from your uncles before you pull your twin brother away from them as well, cocking your head for Luke to follow your lead and back away from the blonde men, “Let us join our sisters for lunchen.”

“Yes, best to leave and make yourselves ready for tomorrow,” Aegon waves at the three of you as you walk to the opposite of the hallway, ignoring the older prince’s snickers, but Aemond’s gaze is too strong to turn a blind eye to it, especially with how hot the place he touched feels like.

“I am nervous,” you mumble against Jacaerys’ neck, tightening your arms around his middle as he hugs you back just as tightly, “Luke is distressed, he is frantic and I doubt he would be able to appear strong in front of the court and the Hand.”

“Mother has it under control, beautiful,” he whispers, sighing against the crown of your head as you both rest on the chaise in his chambers, empty plates on the desk in front of you, “Daemon will help her in the court today, do not worry.”

“Jacaerys,” you mumble, sitting straight to look into his eyes. “You promised we would wed after we strengthened Mother’s claim, and she agreed, but we are yet to be betrothed. Why? Why are we delaying such a happy union, brother?”

“We are not, my sweet,” he cups your face, closing his eyes to try and hide the annoyance that you can clearly hear in his tone, “We need to think of our family first, our lives and Mother’s inheritance are already a threat to our happiness. Do not forget about your duty to our family and the realm, you are a Princess.”

“That is irrelevant, Jacaerys,” you put some distance between the two of you before standing up to put on your gown, making sure the bruises and marks on your chest are fully covered beneath the fabric, “I know what I must do as a Velaryon Princess, but will it not make you happy to have me as your future queen?”

“I promised you since we were ten and one that, you are to be my wife when we grow older,” he replies, covering his face with his hands, “I intend to keep that promise one way or another. Now, put on your clothes and join us in the Throne room.”

You watch him leave after he fixes his coat, giving you space to finish lacing your gown as best as you can, brushing your hair so your Mother does not notice your disheveled appearance, and using a hair clip to pull the front of your hair back as the final touch.

With a sigh, you leave your twin’s room, walking gracefully downstairs to reach the throne room, passing ladies and lords who bow their heads and greet you, making your nervousness only grow worse by their stares.

The doors are open and you take your time while walking toward your family, greeting your now stepsister Baela with a radiant smile, conversing with her easily before you notice your grandmother and greet her as well.

The feeling of someone watching you makes the hair on the back of your head itch, and the heat of their gaze burns your skin and as soon as you turn around, the feeling is long gone, because your eyes lock with his good one almost immediately.

Just as the day before, you feel breathless beneath his eye, desperately hoping for him to look away and let you have a moment of peace before the Hand comes and once again questions your legitimacy.

Aemond does not look away, his stare is locked on yours or more specifically, looking at your gown where it is covering the bruise he touched before, a ghost of a smirk finding its way on his thin lips when he can not see the blue mark.

You turn around and join your brothers and family on the opposite side of the room, watching the Hand making his way to the Iron Throne, sitting on it, and observing the crowd.

You know how everything is going to happen; Vaemond Velaryon will question your brother’s legitimacy and by extension you and your twin brother as well. You are more than glad to feel Jace’s closeness throughout the exhausting trial, his hand on your waist as he tries to keep his anger at bay.

The room grows oddly silent when the doors are pushed open and your grandsire, The King, limps toward his throne slowly, the rotten side of his face covered by a golden mask. He sits in his rightful place, panting before he starts talking, demanding to know what is all the mess his family created.

Your grandmother is asked to give her own petition on behalf of your grandsire, and what she says makes your eyes grow wide, lips falling apart as you let out a shocked gasp before pulling your hand away from your brother’s grasp.

“As a matter of fact, Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons, Jace and Luke, to Lord Corlys’ granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena, a proposal which I heartedly agreed…”

Your lips tremble, and the world around you fades away as your teary eyes find Jace’s trembling lips, shushing you gently as you put more distance between, hiding behind Luke and Daemon.

You see your Mother’s bright smile as she turns to look at Jacaerys, but she catches a glimpse of you and sighs, lowering her gaze to the floor before she looks back at Rhaenys and nods at her.

You catch Aemond’s eye, realizing your interaction did not go unnoticed, but the ache and betrayal outweigh the utter humiliation you feel at the moment.

You do not pay attention for a second, lost between your own thoughts and the news of your brother’s betrothal to someone other than you until you see Daemon pulling his sword out and the next thing you knew is Lord Vaemond’s head on the floor.

You gasp eyes wide in terror as the tears finally fall down, but across the room, you see Aemond’s flushed cheeks as he drags his eye from the headless man on the floor to you, his bright iris shining with what could only assume lust and intrigue.

His gaze awakens something in you, something only Jacaerys used to do, but seeing your uncle flushed and breathless while his eye is solely focusing on your face has your heart pulsating more than before.

Without so much of a glance at your family, you bolt outside of the throne room, pushing people out of your way forcefully to move past the guards and leave the hall.

With your gown in your fists, you rush upstairs, tears running down your face as you hear your name being called by your twin brother, following you upstairs with haste, skipping a step or two to reach you before you run away once more.

“Please, sister, listen—“

“Listen to what?” You yell, turning around abruptly, digging your nails into your palms, “Listen to what, Jace? You were fooling me all this time, keeping at an arm’s length! Did you know about this?”

And the defeated face he makes is enough to answer your question.

“You did, did you not?” You chuckle in disbelief, resting your hand on your chest as you blink the tears away. Even the sight of him makes your heart clench in pain, “Waiting for marriage…what utter nonsense! Did you even love me or were you lying to my face this whole time just to secure a match for yourself?”

“Of course I love you! You are my sister!” He screams back, his hands falling limply next to his body, “I could not live with myself if I tainted your purity! Our lives are hanging on a thread because of our—“

“Because we are fucking bastards, I know that Jacaerys! But Mother promised us to each other, she told me, in fact—“ you laugh halfheartedly to cover up the sob that nearly made its way up your throat, “You said it yourself! We would marry one way or another, now you are telling me you did this for Mother. You told me you loved me.”

“I do! Just not enough to fight with our future queen over it!”

Your lips quiver, watching as the man you used to love turns into a stranger; you nearly gave yourself to him in one of the many nights that the desire got too strong, and he pushed you away just as he has done a hundred times. 

“If I am to be king one day, I need a strong queen who will bring me power, not to make me appear weak,” Jace whispers, and that is your undoing. With a violent shake of your head, you grab your skirt in your hands and run upstairs, trying to hide your tears from the passing servants until you are safe in the confines of your own chambers.

You should not be ignoring everyone, not when with Daemon’s help, your mother managed to keep Luke’s inheritance in her grasp, but even the thought of your sweet sister Baela being betrothed to Jacaerys makes you nauseous.

Instead, you are crying on an abandoned balcony with no guards or people in sight, tightening the shawl around your shoulders as the cold breeze hits your heated cheeks.

There are many emotions running through your head now, and the more you spend time thinking about them the more you feel like throwing up. Did your brother really put on a mask to hide your mother’s intentions by whispering reassurances to you?

“You were dearly missed at the supper.”

You hear his voice, the deep soothing voice of his that cuts through the silence. You clean your nose with your napkin, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from snapping at him.

“What do you want, Aemond?” You manage to say without your voice breaking, gazing off to the distance while your tears dry and new ones burn your eyes.

“Jurnegon rȳ nyke,” look at me, he says, patiently waiting for you to turn around, and when you do not, he sighs, one hand reaching to move your hair to your left shoulder, caressing your neck with his knuckles, “Don’t make me repeat myself, niece.”

“Leave me alone, Uncle!” you cry out, hair whipping into his face as soon as you turn around, pushing on his chest as you scream at him, “I am sick of you taunting me! I know how humiliating it was and how much you must have enjoyed watching me and my brother fall apart! Surely you have already jabbed him with your words, calling us bastards and our mother a whore!”

“Mind your tone—“ he grabs your wrists in his large palms, pulling you closer until your chest is pressed against his, and he takes his time observing your face — tears coating your cheeks, lips trembling with anger, the agony of betrayal evident on your face.

You try to wiggle out of his hold, digging your nails into the side of his wrists but he tightens his grip to keep you close while he lets go of one of your wrists to cup your chin with his palm, his thumb caressing your jaw.

The heat of his gaze is enough to blossom a new warmth in your chest; it is not unkind, not what you are used to. It is… welcoming, careful, as if he is afraid you would break in his hold.

“Shh,” he shushes you, cupping your cheek completely before he wipes a tear that threatens to fall from your lashes, “Nothing is worth your tears, certainly not your idiot brother.”

“Do not call him an idiot, I love him!”

“Does he love you just as much?” He shakes his head, catching another tear with the back of his fingers, wiping your cheek gently, “He hurt you, sweet girl.”

“He-he promised me—“ a sob breaks out, your throat burning as you try to explain. You know you should not, especially not to someone who openly despises you, but you can not stop yourself, not when his hands moves to round your waist, his face leaning closer as he looks deeply into your eyes, “We were to be betrothed, but he betrayed me, so did Mother!”

“What did they do?” He asks, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, “You can trust me, Tala,” Niece, he says and keeps you close, merging you into his arms, and you melt right there, looking up at him with watercolor eyes.

“She betrothed him to Baela,” you whisper, fisting the front of his doublet, holding on to the fabric tightly as you sob, but he does not let you hide your face from him, no, he stares deeply into your eyes, watching each tear fall on your wet cheeks. There is a dangerous glint in his only blue orb, as if he is stripping you naked of the mask you always put around him and his family — and to your surprise, you realize he has done that successfully and you have allowed him, “He lied to me that…”

“Go on, sweet girl, tell me what that bastard did to you.”

“We were involved with each other more than it’s deemed appropriate… but he never tainted my purity, always pushed me away and made me… he made me feel as if I did not rouse something in him anymore when he would tell me we ought to wait for marriage.”

“Idiot,” you frown at him, but gasp when he gently pushes your head to the side by cupping your jaw, making room for his face as he ghosts the tip of his nose over your neck and down to your shoulders, “How could he hold himself back while he could have you like this all day?”

“I-I don’t…” you trail off as soon as he presses his pink thin lips to the junction of your shoulder, nipping at the sensitive skin, “Aemond.”

“Oh, sweet girl, he did not love you,” he groans against your neck before he detaches himself from you, “He is a fucking fool, I would have never let you leave my bed if I had you.”

“What-what do you mean he didn’t love me?” You stutter, mind hazy and limbs shaking; only Jace used to have you like this, but the intense desire was not this strong even then.

“He loves the idea of controlling you, taking his pleasure then tossing you aside as soon as duty comes forward,” he straightens his back, looking down at you over the bridge of his nose, “He does not deserve you. The Seven knows I would have worshipped you in every corner of this Keep, nothing would have stopped me from showing you how loveable you are.”

He nods and leaves with his hands clasped on his back, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts and a furiously beating heart.

You do not know what possesses you as you take a path you have never thought you would: walking downstairs to one of the ground floors, taking the hallway on your left until you see the flicker of several candles. With the final step you take, you see him sitting on one of the chairs, his legs crossed as he reads a book.

Aemond’s hair is down, and he is only in his breeches and a white undershirt, but the smirk on his lips when his eye falls on you breaks his character.

“Niece,” he says, uncrossing his legs as he spreads them, his arms dangling from the sides of the chair, his eye running over your night attire being finally visible to his gaze, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” “I don’t… I don’t know why I am here…” you whisper, crossing the room until you are standing next to his chair, “I thought about what you said… did you mean it?”

“Every word,” he closes his book and drops it on the table in front of him before he reaches to grab your wrist and guide you between his legs, “I meant every word I said. Would you like me to prove them?”

“Yes,” you nod, reaching to pull your nightgown off but he stops you, pulling you down on his lap after turning you around, and spreading your legs over his. His hand goes under your shift, slowly yet firmly pressing his fingers against the dampened spot on your underwear, “Aemond.” “Shhh, sweet girl, voices echo in this chamber,” he whispers in your ear, pushing your underwear to the side before he runs the pad of his fingers against your pearl, enjoying how suddenly your legs clamp around his wrist, “You would not like if someone hears us, now, would you?”

You shake your head side to side, resting your head on his broad shoulder, tucking your face in his neck as he plays with your heat, rubbing the right places before he pushes a finger inside. You gasp, hiding your face more but he turns his head to look at you, his stare too intense to look away from which seems to please him beyond words.

“Did your idiot brother ever touch you like this?” he asks and shoves another finger inside, scissoring you open by curling and thrusting his digits deep inside your core, a deep frown forming on his face when you nod and arch your back.

Aemond fastens his pace, fucking you with a new rush of anger, his fingers curled and hitting the sweet spots inside you that have your legs shaking in a matter of a second.

“No one can give you the pleasure I give you,” he spits the words out, brushing his nose against yours aggressively, his pace matching his fury, “Kiss me, now.” You do not need any more convincing before you pull him down and crash your lips to his, moaning into his mouth as he brings you closer and closer to the edge of your pleasure. For a second you break the kiss, gasping for air but he doesn’t let you do so completely.

“I didn’t say you could stop, niece,” he kisses you after this, his lips devouring yours as you fall over the edge, your legs shaking and quivering as you gush over his fingers, coating them in your juices,

He finally breaks the kiss and rests his forehead on yours before he whispers, “Get on the bed, all fours.” You stand up with shaky legs, but he does not let you go too far before he reaches and pulls your nightgown over your head, stunning you with how quickly his attitude changes.

You, in all of your naity, have learned a thing or two from your twin brother, and you comply with your uncle’s commands and try to climb the bed, but Aemond’s mind has changed already.

He stands behind you, pushing you down on the edge of the bed with your legs dangling and him pressing his hips into your backside as he pulls your underwear down, revealing your glistening cunt to his hungry eye.

With one hand on your shoulder blades, he presses you down on the mattress, cock already out of his breeches and standing proudly against his covered abdomen.

“Fucking gods,” he groans deeply, the sound coming from the depth of his chest as he presses his cock into you, breaching your maidenhead inch by inch, “See, sweetling? Your brother is a moron because no man can keep away from a tight cunt like this.”

You whine, the wetness is enough to let him glide inside you with ease, filling you up and stretching your poor untouched walls out. He is much bigger than you could ever imagine, he is certainly bigger than your brother even though you have never felt him inside you.

Aemond’s starting pace is bruising, brutal even. He is fucking his frustration away, making you cry out with each delicious stroke, pulling his cock out until the red weeping tip is engulfed by your walls before he snaps his hips into the globes of your ass.

“Jace did not want you, niece,” he bends down over your back, his chest pressed into yours as he drives his cock in and out of you quickly, hammering himself in your sweet cunt, “I want you, you are mine. Your brother took my eye, now I take his sister. An eye for an eye.”

You can not argue back, not when his cock is nudging every pleasure points deep inside your core, making your head turn into a puddle. You should be embarrassed, your Mother would be furious if she found out, but he is giving you something Jace had denied you for so long, and the sheer euphoric feeling you are getting is enough to make you empty your head of any thoughts — all you can think about is him, your uncle, your devious handsome uncle you have been warned to keep away.

“Do you know what that means?” he asks, biting your earlobe as he somehow picks up his pace, thrusting himself inside you before he keeps himself pressed against you, circling his hips to drive himself deeper, “I will give you my seed from this day on until I am sure you are with child; a precious Targaryen heir. Then I will make him the king after me, and you, my beloved niece, will kill your family and rule the realm with me and our child.”

You moan loudly, walls clenching tightly around his girth as you reach your peak and that is enough to send him to his high as well; he comes inside you, dumping his warm dragonseed deep inside your womb.

“We shall rule together, niece, and that is a promise I intend to keep.”

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Previous - Part 16 - Next

"How do you feel today?"

You were checking on Anya, who was still resting.

Anya: "I feel much better... I hope to recover by the time the rescue comes." 

"I hope so, don't worry, even if you can't walk i will carry you." You giver her a smile

Anya: "...(Y/n), I have to tell you something"

ahead"9

Anya: "...I had hidden the gun... It's there."

She pointed to a drawer that was under Curly's stretcher, you looked at Anya for a few seconds.

"You had told me that you didn't know where it was."

Anya: "I was afraid you would put it somewhere else and it would be within his reach..."

"Mm... You did well, I would have followed the protocol and kept it with me, it would have been dangerous anyway."

Anya: "...Do you really think they're coming to rescue us? They're not going to leave us here... are they?

"Hey," you took his hand, "Everything is going to be alright, they're going to come."

Anya: "...If they don't come... Could you?..."

"They are coming"

You squeezed her hand more firmly and stayed by her side until she fell deeply asleep.

You approached Curly's stretcher to open the drawer and see the gun's safe.

You entered the code to open it and took it there, making sure it was in good condition.

You felt Curly's gaze on you when you put it away in your uniform.

"It has the safe on, it won't hurt me, don't worry. I don't want to be scolded if they find it here, the protocol says that the captain in charge must have it in their possession in case of an emergency, otherwise, they will be sanctioned. If they come and find it here, they'll make a scene."

You patted his chest a couple of times and pouted.

"Don't look at me like that, you're the one who forced me to learn the rules and follow them. It's your fault."

The man let out a sound, it seemed like he wanted to laugh at your words.

"There's not much time left... We're almost there... And when we return... You're going to be in the hospital a lot for sure, but you'll have a more comfortable bed, better care, I'll come to see you every day... And when you feel better, we'll go home... And we'll sleep together again like before, okay?"

You ran your hand over his chest, smiling at him affectionately, thinking that you would have your husband by your side again.

Curly: "Clo...sh..."

He murmured, looking at you, patiently waiting for you to understand his request. You felt curious about it, but you approached his face.

And he leaned his head to you, a small sound of a clinch could be heard.

You put your hands over your mouth, unsure of how to feel about what he did, but the sensation of having knocked your teeth together left a tingling in your mouth.

While Curly was embarrased that his plan hadn't gone as well as he had thought in his attempt to give you a "kiss."

You ran your tongue over your teeth hoping that sensation would go away faster, and as you did so, you sighed in relief.

"Don't do that again, please," you laughed, still making a couple of gestures with your mouth as if the tickling sensation had lingered. "One day you can kiss me again, but don't crash your mouth into mine with your exposed teeth, we're going to hurt each other."

He let out a whimper and turned hid head to avoid seeing you, to which you responded by leaving a kiss on his neck before leaving.

Daisuke: "Captain, I can't make Polly stop crying, please help me, Swansea told me it was my turn to take care of her and I don't know what to do!  I tried to feed her, her diaper is clean, and she doesn't want me to hold her either!"

The boy approached you with the baby in his arms, who was red from having cried for so long.

"Not here-!"

You pulled him away from the nursery so that Anya wouldn't have to hear the baby's cries.

You took the baby and laid her on the sofa to start rubbing her stomach.

So you took her little feet and started pressing them against her stomach slowly, Daisuke was already starting to panic.

Daisuke: "What's wrong with her?"

He asked in terror until they heard the fart the baby started to release, gradually calming down as she felt relieved.

"Gases," you replied, squeezing her a little more until she let it all out.

Daisuke: "My hero!"

"Now it's your turn to put her to sleep."

Daisuke: "That's easy!"

He took the baby and lay down on the sofa, placing her on top of him. Polly looked comfortable on the boy's chest, relaxed, she closed her eyes.

Daisuke: "Ta-da~"

They heard another fart from the baby again, but this time it seemed like there was something more into it.

Daisuke: "....Captainnnnn"

"...I think both of you are going to need a bathroom..."

You covered your nose, ready to help the boy.

[kumkaniudaku]

Askew

Summary: Terry makes good on a promise.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: SMUT (18+)

Previous: At Last: Part Two

“I’m gonna fuck the glasses off your face tonight. Okay?” 

A simple sentence. No fanfare. No lingering touch or a suggestive look. Not even a repeat of his matter-of-fact declaration despite the words nearly being lost to the pockets of conversation in Corey’s kitchen during a rowdier than usual Friendsgiving gathering. Terry calmly whispered the plain statement into Patrice’s ear as he passed by on the way out of the door to join the other men in the backyard. 

Patrice tried to appear unphased while she sipped from her plastic cup of white wine. “Now?”

“I’ll let you know.” 

He’d made up his mind to have her babbling incoherent sentences while he bent her over the living room couch before they could make it out of the house, but holding in his little secret had proven difficult. Terry wished he could blame it on the tequila shots or the haze of weed smoke blown out of mouths far too federally employed to still be dabbling with the plant. Either would be an acceptable lie because the truth was too trivial to share. It was the North Carolina A&T crew neck and black cat-eye glasses Patrice had chosen to sport for the night. His mind dreamt up all the times he’d missed her studying for exams in the sweater a hair too large, and glasses that made her look like a professor during office hours while she bounced around the room making small talk with people he hardly recognized. His social butterfly moving her lips a mile a minute when all he wanted to do was feel those lips on every square inch of his body.

Terry needed her in the worst way. The bathroom might’ve sufficed. Maybe even the backseat of his truck. But neither option provided the sound insulation he needed to fulfill his raging desire. He’d need the privacy of their home and a TV turned all the way up to avoid disturbing the neighbors. 

The signal to leave came with a quick tap on Patrice’s hip in the middle of a spirited talk with her best friend, Vicky, about something he couldn’t care less about. 

“I guess that’s my cue, girl,” Patrice laughed, trying to play her role as the chatty wife being called away by her quiet husband. “Talk to you later?” 

Their exit featured hurried goodbyes and promises to return for the Christmas game night that they likely wouldn’t remember come daylight. Hands fumbled with keyfobs and door handles in their mad dash to somewhere a little more secluded. Blue lights from the dashboard reflected from Patrice’s glasses as they made out in front of their childhood friend’s house like maniacs, too intoxicated with lust to care if someone saw them from the open front door. 

One hand on the steering and the other middle and ring fingers deep in warm pussy had Terry breaking speed limits and running stop signs to turn a twenty-minute journey into ten if he were lucky. 

They didn’t waste time with light switches or picking up discarded clothing on the clumsy journey to the bedroom. A split second of clarity told Terry to flip on the lamp as Patrice made the descent to his dick one sloppy kiss on his chest and stomach at a time. 

“What you got for me?” 

More than he’d bargained for should’ve been the answer had she taken the time to use her mouth for anything more than making his muscled thighs tense like he’d been tased. 

With a pillow folded between her legs while she lay on her stomach and eyes looking up at Terry over the rim of her spectacles, Patrice put on an oral demonstration fit for a professional. Her glasses fogged from the cold air and steamy situation unfolding on their marital bed. 

The corners of her mouth stinging from the stretch of him and the ache building in her core kept her tethered to reality when she wanted to escape into the pleasure of seeing her man so vulnerable from her touch. 

He hissed and cursed as she ran a flat tongue on the underside of his dick. “Fuck, girl. I knew I’d get all of this up out you one day. Damn…” 

Gobbsmacked. Astounded. Sucked into oblivion. Terry had transcended time and space once Patrice made a home for him at the back of her throat over and over again. Spit coated her hands, chin, and his lap while she focused on leaving him too stupefied to utter anything that had more than one syllable. She could’ve swiped every dollar from his wallet, bank account, and retirement fund and he’d still thank her for inviting him into her mouth. 

Low groans and rough requests for more sounded like applause as Patrice went to work on her lover. His approach to the mountaintop matched hers as she desperately searched for friction from the pillow below her. 

“Hell yeah, like that, baby. You know what you doin’. Shit.” Praise came in heeps. Her silk press had long turned into reigns for Terry to keep her head stable. Tears mixed with saliva for extra lubrication. She looked gorgeous under amber light to her husband. 

Up and down, up and down. Take it. Gargle it down. Breathe through your nose. Looping mantras played in her head as he took control to finish what she’d started.  

His release came in a photo finish. His toes curled from pure ecstasy. Body seized up in beautiful suspension, each bulging muscle in his arms and torso on display. Head thrown back to direct his loud moan to the ceiling. Eyeballs rolled behind fluttering lids. Kids drained down the hatch, never to reach their full potential. 

She cleaned up the remnants with her tongue, splitting her attention between Terry and the building orgasm as she swiveled her hips against firm cotton. He stared down at her, taking in the way her jaw dropped to form that ‘o’ he loved so much. Her brow furrowed once her teeth took hold of her bottom lip. 

“That feel good to you, baby?” 

“Mhmm.” Patrice tried to give a more accurate description of her mind state. All she could manage was a slurred hum in the affirmative while he watched her unravel at the seams without his help. 

“Show me. I wanna watch.” 

And watch he did. Dick in hand and back pressed against the headboard, Terry used his refractory period to watch Patrice turn his pillow into her personal fuck toy. Her hips bucked slowly under his attention while she searched for her first eruption. 

His stroke matched her movements blow for blow while she admired her lone audience member. Siren eyes and a confident smirk, hands kneading bountiful breasts, and his name rolling from her lips kept him engrossed in her one-woman show. 

The inevitable approached like a crashing wave against a calm shore. “Let me cum for you, Terrence. Can I do that? Tell me.” 

Patrice knew the trouble she’d started. Using his first name, and asking for permission, it was all to elicit the reaction Terry so eagerly provided. He scrambled to his knees for the chance to hover over her with his forehead pressed so tightly against hers that they shared pools of sweat. 

Intense blue-green eyes peered down at her, wordlessly edging her closer to paradise. 

“Nuh uh, eyes up here,” Patrice instructed when the view of quaking thighs and waxed lower lips became too distracting for Terry. “Tell me when, my love. I’m all yours.” 

Her voice climbed, sounding like a symphony to his ears. He waited and watched until she met the brink of too much stimulation. “Now. Right now.” 

A rush of emotions forever intertwining two bodies flowed between them through a kiss dominated by silky tongues and Patrice’s swallowed mewls. Terry had perfected the art of kissing. Knowing when to suck at her bottom lip, when to wrap his large hand around Patrice’s throat to keep her head angled upward, and when to pull away for other pursuits. 

Normally, hickeys were childish evidence of adult activities, but tonight they were trophies for a job well done. 

“I love you so much.” Even in furious fucking where feelings took a backseat to more carnal desires, Terry refused to miss an opportunity to utter his favorite phrase. He sucked a nipple into his mouth, letting his tongue trace the outline of her areola to his heart’s content before pulling away to show the other the same attention. He listened to her sigh and smiled. “I love the way you sound.” 

“What else?” 

A lick up her sternum before a kiss. “I love the way you say my name.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I love your body. You’re perfect.” An open-mouthed kiss at the base of her neck as he gripped her waist. “I love the way you take dick. Especially tonight. Think you can take some more for me, pretty?”

Like a magnet, Terry’s fingers found their way to Patrice’s slick inner lips as he gathered wetness to drag skilled digits around her clit. Her breath audibly hitched from the contact, making him chuckle with his lips pressed against her cheek. Slow circles, maddeningly slow and gentle enough to feel like nothing at all had her willing to agree to just about anything to get off.

“Whatever you say, baby.”

Terry didn’t say much. It wasn’t his nature. Only short, honey-sweet directions for Patrice to press her chest to crumpled sheets and spread her knees wide. He made it so easy to comply. So easy to contort herself into any position he wanted because she knew what awaited her on the other side. 

He had her at his mercy. Her sat ass high up in the air with her flower on display from a gloriously deep arch. Terry felt an animalistic switch flip to remind him of his promise. Pupils dilated and reinvigorated by the lewd image manifesting at his fingertip, he went to work. 

A relentless pounding. Punishing strokes that made the bed creak from the stress of it all. The sheer force knocked Patrice’s glasses askew without an opportunity for adjustment. She could only claw at the foot of the bed and push her hips back into his to match the rhythm. 

The sound of smacking skin and mixed moans created a soundtrack for rabid, desperate fucking. His thumbs left impressions on the delicate skin of her back, turning his knuckles white as he dug deeper. 

Patrice took every inch like only she could, earning a rough smack as appreciation. 

“That’s my girl,” Terry gritted through clenched teeth. “Stay with me. I feel you.” 

It was all too much. The angle. The vision of Terry’s chest clenching and releasing for exertion as Patrice looked back at him. The way his brows knitted in concentration. The scent of his cologne wafted with every move. His tattoos glistened under dim lights.

“Oh my God!” 

Early sparks of a white-hot release turned Patrice into putty, forcing Terry to hold her close. 

One hand between her legs and the other putting soft pressure on the sides of her neck kept Patrice and Terry tethered on their quest for joint waves.

“I love you.” 

“I need you.” 

“You feel so good inside me.” 

“Kiss me. Please.”

“Cum for me.”

Terry sank his teeth into Patrice’s shoulder as she clenched around him, no longer able to contain himself as she clenched around him. Shared euphoria. A once in a blue moon experience that neither of them had encountered. 

Moans became indistinguishable. Eyelids clamped shut as hips sputtered. Glasses tumbled from the bed to the floor, having served their purpose. Bodies wrapped themselves around the other until they were spent, toppled over, and basking in the feel of each other. 

“Good job, baby.” Terry praised, his voice soothing her mind while his hands rubbed the peaks and valleys of Patrice’s hips and thighs while they lay on their sides. He couldn’t bring himself to pull out, too engrossed in the subtle aftershocks deep inside her body. “You okay? Talk to me.”

Patrice breathed out a delirious laugh as she turned to look at him over her shoulder. “I can’t see! I can’t believe you fucked me blind. You’re insane.” 

“How much time you got tonight? I got some shit I been wanting to do to you for a long time.” 

“Like what?” 

Whispers of new positions and marathon lovemaking made the hairs on her arms stand at attention. A second promise had entered the mix. 

They’d make a baby or spend the rest of the night and into the morning trying. 

---

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[heesimp]

omg hi im the anon who suggested forced anal with jay … do u think u might have time to write a drabble about it? i feel like you would execute it so nastily and so well lol

something about anal sex…

anyway this link is what she looks like after

warnings: dubcon (ish, reader wants it but is too embarrassed to say it and jay gets off on pretending it’s forced), jay eats reader out for a while, jay licks reader’s asshole, anal sex.

-

You’ve known he’s wanted this for a long time and the idea of pretending you don’t want him is ludicrous on the notion that you do want it. But you’ll do anything to see him happy, especially on nights where he’s been extra good to you.

“Such a sexy pussy.” Jay moans right against you. You’re on your hand and knees, your back in a deep arch with your cheek on his pillow. His tongue is so warm against your wet folds, licking you up like he depends on it. You can’t help but push your hips back into his face until his tongue is stiff inside of you. “You’re phenomenal…Will you let me eat your cute little ass?”

And really, it’s not like you haven’t thought about it. Jay moves his body to better angle himself towards your ass as you contemplate his question. You feel his breath before you can register and the familiar feeling of his mouth has completely disappeared.

Jay kisses your wrinkled hole and lets a ball of spit seep right into it. The unfamiliar feeling makes your toes curl and pull away from him. “Relax. You’ll love this.”

His tongue pokes into your hole as his large palms come to rub your asscheeks as if to soothe you. Jay’s tongue slathers over you slowly, dragging his muscle over you again. His movements are slow, hands gently squeezing you every time you jolt against him and when your body instinctively pulls away from the feeling of his tongue on your ass, Jay grips your thighs.

“Where you goin’, baby?” A soothing hand runs along your spine and forces your hips back on his mouth. Jay’s tongue latches back onto your asshole while his hands move to keep you locked against his face.

You tense up. Jay feels you clench your body and soothes you by rubbing his soft palm on your backside. His mouth is so warm and the tingling sensation makes your ass feel so good. He closes his eyes and hums in satisfaction when you open up and allow him to lick you up repeatedly. Jay puts in one finger at a time until he’s stretching you open with three fingers.

He decides you’re ready when you moan against his pillow. “Goddamn, you’re so good. Gonna fuck this cute little ass of yours, okay?” You don’t protest but you don’t really say anything. Your cheeks heat up and even if you know he’d stop if you asked him too, you’re too embarrassed to speak up by how much you like it.

You hear Jay’s wet cock as he jerks himself off. His tip comes in contact with your asscheeks and Jay slaps the tip on both of your globes until he reaches your hole. It winks at him the more he stares at it, and you hear him moan from behind you.

Jay lets the head rest against your asshole, feeling your subtle pulses as you accommodate to this new feeling. He spits until it lands on the head and moves it around until your ass becomes wetter too.

He pushes the head in and watches your fingers flex. “Oh yeahhh. Your ass is squeezing me already. You’re so wet too. Do you like anal sex, baby?” He doesn’t wait for your answer and relishes in your moans when he thrusts the tip in and out of you, pushing more of himself in every time he dips back inside of you.

Jay looks down. “Your pussy’s drooling. You must like it if you’re this wet.” The feeling of his hard, warm dick sliding in and out of your asshole makes you grip the bedsheets under you for dear life. The searing pain is nothing short of euphoric and Jay grunts when he sees you biting the pillow under you.

“Such a tight ass. I love that you’re a little anal whore. Turns me on so much.” Jay speeds up his rhythm and holds your waist to control the pace he’s pushing in and out of you. His fingers give you a gentle squeeze.

“Hurts so much,” you choke.

“But does it hurt so good?”

“S-So good.”

“I know, sweetheart. I love seeing my cock disappear into your ass. It’s so sexy when you let me use you like this.”

“Take it out,” you whine.

“Can’t do that, baby. You feel too good.”

“Please,” you say with a moan. “Pull it out.”

Jay chuckles, cock already twitching inside of you. “Gonna cum inside of your tight asshole.” The wetness reverberates around the room and his dick pounds you from behind, his balls slapping against you too.

Your heart sinks when you clench around him. Ot feels so good. “Don’t fight it, princess. Let me use your ass. Girls who love anal are sexier than girls who don’t.”

“J-Jay!”

He picks up the pace. “Uh huh, that’s right. Moan my name. Who’s fucking your ass this good?”

“Jongseong!”

You cum when he does, the pearly beads dripping from your folds. Jay fucks you through his orgasm and dumps his load right into your little asshole as he grips onto you.

“That’s right. Your ass is so good. I could bury myself in here forever.”

[atleastpleasetelephone]

I cannot stop thinking about a BDE fluff/smut fic where he’s feeling down about his physical image, and the reader is shy and innocent but decides to try her hardest to make him feel better but is a little too awkward whilst trying, and he has to take over, and I thought you would write this wonderfully!

Bunny

A/N: Not sure if this answers the brief, but here we go anyway.

Pairing: BDE x reader

Word count: 2.4K

TWs: not much. Elvis is a little sad about getting older. A handjob.

Your two friends both push you towards the stage.

“C’mon, he’s just there!”

You stumble forwards, splaying your hands on the top of the stage as you look up. He’s towering above you, like some sort of God, hips swaying back and forth to the music as he sings the last line of the song. You stare upwards, open-mouthed. He puts both arms in the air in a final dramatic gesture, and then looks down, spotting you. A little smile plays on his lips. You look so nervous, big brown eyes staring up at him like a frightened rabbit. He knows what to do. Dropping his arms he gets down on a knee right in front of you, and suddenly his face is just there, staring down into yours. You nibble on your lower lip as you stare back, and now he’s convinced you are a rabbit, caught in the headlights, unable to move.

“Hey darlin’,” he drawls, his hand reaching down for your shoulder.

“H-hi,” you whisper.

“Ya wanna scarf, honey? Or a kiss?” He pauses for a moment, studying your pretty little face. “Or both?”

“B-both.”

He chuckles as your fingers find the scarf already around his neck and grip it tightly. You might look like a scared little bunny rabbit but you’ve got a fierce grip and you know what you want.

“Alright then.”

He moves his hand to your face, cupping your cheek, and then presses his lips gently against yours. Even though the crowd is loud and the band is still playing the end of the song, he hears the little moan you make when he kisses you. Something stirs inside him at that little noise, and when he takes the scarf off his neck, he loops it around yours and uses it to pull you in for another kiss. He puts you off-balance, and when you catch yourself one of your hands lands on his thigh as his tongue pushes past your unresisting lips. You feel light-headed, trying to steady yourself as you feel his soft lips against yours and breathe in the smell of him. Musky and powdery and undeniably sexy. It might have been the second kiss but it still ends far too soon.

“Wait around after the show finishes, Joe’ll come an’ get ya,” he tells you, and then he’s standing up and talking into the mic, announcing the next song.

Your head spins. Wait for him? Joe will come and get you? Who is Joe? Where are you going?

“Ohmygod he kissed you!”

“Twice!”

“What was it like?”

“Look at the scarf!”

Your friends have a grip on each of your shoulders and they’re squealing and asking question after question without waiting for an answer.

“He told me to wait around after the show for Joe,” you mumble.

“He what? Ohmygod.”

Back at your table you try to concentrate on watching the rest of the show, but your friends are still asking you questions and your head is spinning trying to work out where Joe means to take you. You’re sure you see Elvis wink at you at some point, but everything is so confusing and overwhelming right now it seems more likely that the wink was meant for someone else.

The show finishes in a dramatic flurry of drum rolls and activity, Elvis down on one knee again, with his arms outspread this time, holding up his cape. You stare at him, trying to fix him in your memory in case you never see him again, and then just like that he’s gone. You sigh out the breath you’d been holding for the last minute or so and look around you at your friends, feeling like you’re coming out of a daze.

“Well, I guess that’s it then.”

“What d’you mean, that’s it? Joe’s coming for you.”

“I don’t even know who Joe is. I think we better go.”

You get up and pick up your jacket, shrugging it over your shoulders and ignoring your friends’ protests. It’s late. You should be getting back to your hotel room.

“Excuse me?”

You turn around, confronted by a slightly tubby-looking man in a hat. “Hello?”

“Hi honey, I’m Joe. Elvis sent me to get you.”

You freeze and just stare at him. Elvis sent him to get you? To get you for what? You can hear your friends chirping away excitedly about it but it sounds to you like they are getting very far away. You feel yourself wobble.

“Honey! Are you gonna faint?”

Joe’s arm is around your waist and he carefully eases you back into the chair you’d just got up out of.

“W-what does Elvis want?” You find yourself asking once you’ve had a moment to stop feeling quite so dizzy.

“He just wants to talk and get to know you better - he asked me to bring you up to his suite in the hotel.”

“Oh. Can I um… can I bring my friends?”

“Sure, of course.”

Your friends both try to tell you that they don’t need to come, since you’re the real Elvis fan and both of them suspect he wants something other than a friendly chat, but you refuse to go without them. Elvis is a little surprised to find three girls where he was expecting one, but he doesn’t show it. Instead he buzzes around being the perfect host, getting everyone drinks and introducing them to the other people in the suite. You’re a little surprised how big the suite is and how full of people it is too, and you do show it, your mouth falling open as you stare around the room. Elvis chuckles to himself. You really are very cute. He flits around the room talking to people and you’re surprised and a little disappointed not to get more of his attention. A couple of hours later you find yourself sitting on a sofa between Joe and one of Elvis’ backing singers. You’re not exactly a natural conversationalist, not with strangers anyway, and you can’t help feeling uncomfortable. Both of your friends are engaged in an enthusiastic conversation with Elvis’ guitarist and you just feel overlooked. You get up and start to make your way towards the door, looking for your bag and jacket.

You’re halfway to the door when you feel a presence behind you.

“Ya wanna go somewhere a little more private, honey?” His voice is deep and smooth and somehow commanding. You feel like you can’t say no.

“Um… okay,” you whisper, turning to look at him.

You’d forgotten just how unbelievably gorgeous he is this close up and you almost faint on the spot. His arm slips around your back and pulls you towards him.

“Joe said ya were a fainter,” he says, with a smirk. “C’mon, I’ll take ya somewhere quiet where we can talk.”

You nod dumbly and let him lead you out of the main room and through a door into his bedroom. He feels you stiffen slightly and gently strokes your back with his hand.

“Let’s sit down.”

You settle on a sofa together and he immediately starts to ask you more about yourself. The several cocktails you’ve drunk have loosened you up a little, and even though Elvis is a stranger you find him easy to talk to. It’s just mundane stuff like your job and your family, but he seems genuinely interested. There’s a natural pause in the conversation and you look up into his face.

“Do you like touring?” You have no idea where that came from, but it’s out of your mouth now and you can’t get it back.

He reaches over to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I sure do, honey,” he replies with a smile.

“You don’t miss home?”

Elvis swallows. You’re so sweet and innocent-seeming but somehow you’re coming out with these killer questions. No ‘what’s your favourite song to perform’ or ‘which jumpsuit do you like best?’ from you.

“I uh… of course I do…” he trails off and his eyes flick away from your face for the first time since you sat down.

“I suppose you’ve got a lot of your friends with you. That must be nice. It’s not like you could be lonely or anything like that.” Your mouth is genuinely running away with you now.

“I’m lonely sometimes,” he murmurs, still not looking at you. “Lonely and old. I turned 40 this year, y’know that, honey?”

You bite your lip and try to steal your nerve. You move a hand, hesitantly, towards his face, then rest it on his cheek. “Y-you don’t look 40.”

His eyes slowly flick back to your face and he gives you a lopsided grin. “Well thank ya honey. That’s kind a ya.” The smile falls from his face. “I feel it though. Not as lean as I used ta be.” He pulls his shades off and rubs his eyes. “Think I’m gettin’ wrinkles.”

You shift yourself a little closer to him and your fingers stroke the skin near the corners of one of his eyes. “Laughter lines,” you tell him, quietly.

The smile is back. “Ah guess so.” He puts his hand on top of yours and holds it still whilst he rubs his cheek against your palm. “Yer a lot chattier than I expected. Thought ya looked like a lil frightened bunny rabbit when I first saw ya.” He pulls your hand towards his lips now and kisses it.

You blush at the feeling and the intensity of his attention on you again. “I-I was nervous.”

He lets go of your hand and you let it fall back into your lap. “Nothin’ to be nervous about honey.” His hand cups your cheek as he leans forward and captures your lips in a kiss.

You feel yourself melting as he takes you in his arms, continuing to kiss you deeply. He’s warm and comforting and the smell of him surrounds you. You wish the kisses could go on forever, but he then pulls back and flops against the back of the sofa. Somehow the talk of loneliness and age has set up residence in his mind and he can’t seem to shake it.

“That was nice,” you tell him, if only to try and get his attention back on you again. It blinded you earlier but now you feel like you’re peering at him in the dark.

“Yeah it was,” he sighs in return, still not looking at you.

You bite your lip. You’ve not really done much with a man before. You know what’s what, but you usually just let them take the lead. But now, looking at him, you have this overwhelming urge to give him pleasure. There’s a sadness in his eyes as they stare vacantly across the room and you want to take it away. Your hand rests on his thigh as you press a gentle kiss to his cheek to gauge his reaction. When he doesn’t say anything you continue your kisses across his cheekbone and down under his ear as your hand creeps up his thigh. He’s just starting to process what’s happening when your hand finds his semi-hard dick and squeezes a little too enthusiastically.

“Honey!”

He damn near jumps in the air, his head spinning to look at you as his hand captures yours and pulls it off him.

“S-sorry,” you mumble.

He purses his lips a little, trying not to laugh. “Jus’ what were ya tryin’ ta do there, bunny?”

As if to validate the name he’s just given you, you stare at him in silent shock and wonder.

“Bunny?” You whisper, after some time.

“My little bunny wabbit.”

You blush again and look down at his lap, feeling terrible about how badly your attempt to please him had gone. And then you notice there’s a bulge in his pants that wasn’t there before. Your blush deepens.

He smirks a little watching your reaction to him. Taking your hand and carefully putting it back where it was, he helps you squeeze him gently this time. You look up slowly to find him staring at you with an intensity that makes you think he wants to consume you whole, then he’s kissing you again, his tongue pressing into your mouth. Letting you carry on gently squeezing him on your own, he unzips his pants and then takes your hand and helps you wrap it around his length. He moves your hand up and down on him a few times and then lets go.

Burned by your earlier experience, now you’re too gentle and he can barely feel you at all. Continuing to kiss you, his hand wraps around yours again and squeezes it.

“Jus’ a little more, bunny,” he murmurs against your lips.

You nod and dive back into his mouth with your tongue, enjoying the way he tastes, peppermint with a background of something sweeter. He eases your hand up and down a little faster, and helps you rub your thumb over the tip, dragging precum down the shaft to lubricate him. He keeps his hand around yours although you’re doing all the work now, wanting to keep the contact, his other hand buried in your hair. Pleasure builds inside him and blocks out all other thoughts, he just feels your touch, your lips, the wetness of your tongue. You smell like jasmine and your body is comfortingly warm against him. His eyes closed, he encourages your hand to speed up again, letting out an involuntary moan as you do.

You feel his fingers tighten in your hair, pulling it a little, almost hurting you as you keep pumping him faster and faster. His body tenses and then you hear a little whine as his lips leave yours and his head tips back, making contact with the back of the sofa. You look down at the whitish fluid spurting out of his dick and his hand still around yours as you milk the rest of it out of him. Your hand slows down and then stops, and you lean forward to press kisses to his jaw. He sits there in bliss, eyes still closed, feeling and not thinking.

Your fingers knit together with his now your hand isn’t around his dick anymore. He breathes out a gentle sigh.

“Thanks Bunny. Ya made me feel 21 again fer a minute there.”

***

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[ephie-om]

Simeon trudges along the soft carpet to answer Purgatory Hall's door. He vaguely remembers someone was supposed to visit, but in his mind's haze he can't seem to recall who. Between the endless explosions from Solomon's room and late nights comforting Luke after a long day, the angel was exhausted.

The front door creaks open to reveal your smiling face. Your smile quickly drops as you take in Simeon's state. He realizes how he must look. Disheveled clothes, oily skin, probably several stains on his robes. He's fairly sure he should be ashamed, but he's too tired. "I apologize, I'm not exactly... put together." He flashes you a quick smile, hoping to dispel your worries.

You tsk at him and gently push past him into the house. An alarm goes off in his mind, a bit too late, that he should be a gracious host and invite you in. But since it's you, he supposes, there's not much point in telling you to make yourself at home. He watches you drop your bag on the floor and shove it out of the way with your foot. You're looking at him, he realizes. Expectantly. "Um... I'm sorry. What?" Your lips twist (in what? Worry? Disappointment? Has he done something wrong?) and you let out a breath.

"I said, I know your roommates have been getting to you." He nods quickly, eager to show he's listening this time. "So I took the liberty of finding them excuses to not be here tonight. They're safe and in good company, but that leaves you here. Alone, with no distractions." You grin at him, almost evilly. "Which means you don't have any excuse to refuse my help."

You make quick work of boiling water for tea and running a bath. Simeon, having been sternly commanded to not help in any way, is perched awkwardly on a stool in the kitchen. He watches you rush back and forth between rooms, making sure neither the kettle nor the tub can overflow. It's almost amusing, watching you run about like this all for him. Yes, he thinks, it's amusing, and endearing, but if he thinks too long about that he might really say something he shouldn't.

You push a mug full of hot tea towards him from across the counter and stare him down until he drinks. It's warm, the warmest, sweetest thing he's tasted for weeks. He didn't even think he liked this blend. There must be something about your fingers making it that dripped pure nectar into it. He sips slowly, letting his tongue wrap around every drop. He wouldn't dare waste a bit of the liquid gold you'd given him. The silence stretches over the kitchen like a warm blanket and he closes his eyes as he drinks. Your footsteps fade as you go to check the bathroom and he finds himself missing the sound of your breathing.

He drains his mug and heaves himself to his feet. You meet him midway to the bathroom and place a warm hand on his shoulder, guiding him down the hall. Only his angel sensibilities stop him from stripping down as soon as he sees the tub. He sees a thick layer of tiny bubbles floating over the water's surface, and a gentle floral scent rises up to greet him. He swears he could kiss you here and now.

You face him, hand on his arm, and he finds every detail of your lips as you speak. "I don't mean for this to be awkward or anything, but I've been tired like this before and I know how hard simple things can be. So I wanted to tell you if you need any help with this, I'll be right here." You turn to walk out, but he catches hold of your hand.

"Please. It's..." He trails off, embarrassed. "My hair. I don't even know how long it's been since I've washed it." You nod and respectfully face the wall as he disrobes. The noise that leaves his mouth as he lowers himself into the water would be sinful anywhere else. He feels the tension is his back loosen as the warm ripples lap against his skin. When did he get so tired? When had moving a single muscle become such a chore?

You settle on the edge of the tub and gently tilt his head back. He hears you rummage around for his shampoo and finally smells that familiar teakwood scent that drifts down from your fingers. You work his hair into a lather, so slowly he thinks you must be trying to put him to sleep. He doesn't even want to look at what color the bubbles must be coming off his hair, so he shuts his eyes and leans back into your hands. You chuckle softly and rinse his head ever so carefully, making sure to shield his eyes. He hears a generous amount of conditioner plop into your palm and you indulge him in what's practically a scalp massage, going over his head with your fingertips again and again.

You gasp softly and your fingers stop. Simeon's eyes snap open in fear, imagining what horrors you could've found in his hair. "I'm so sorry, I knew it was dirty, I shouldn't have-"

"You're glowing."

"Sorry?"

"Simeon, you're glowing."

His arm sloshes up from the depths of the tub as he checks for himself, and sure enough, an ochre glow emanates from under his skin. "Ah. That must be a quirk specific to angels. It's entirely subconscious, because it only happens in times of utmost happiness." You smile wide, fascinated as he explains.

"So that means..." You trail off expectantly.

He blushes and settles back under the water, an excuse to tear himself away from that blinding smile. "It means you make me happy." he says simply. You're silent for a moment as you work and he wonders if that was too much. Your fingers caress the hinge of his jaw and tilt his head back again, and he opens his eyes just in time to be met with your lips pressed to his forehead. It only lasts for a brief moment, but he thinks he could live like this for eternity.

Neither of you say anything as Simeon finally stands and dries off. Neither of you need to. Your hand wraps around his arm and he finds himself not caring the least but about where you're taking him. The two of you end up on the living room couch as you painstakingly detangle his hair while a late-night reality show plays softly in the background. The manners that the Celestial Realm has taught him over centuries remind him he ought to say thank you. He takes a breath, opens his mouth and shuts it again, silently. The silence is comfortable. In a world where everyone talks and no one ever listens, silence is trust. And right now he trusts you more than anything else in the three realms.

[kooqitas]

#pairing: cheater!jeonghan x reader ♡ smut [18+ mdni], pwp ♡ wc: ~1400 #synopsis: you always knew jeonghan was worthless, you just didn't expect to see him at a school parent meeting with his wife #warnings: cheating!!!!! rough sex, semi-public sex, degradation, breeding kink, spitting, slapping, humiliation, jeonghan is dom and y/n brat. wonwoo mentioned. unprotected sex. #warnings: ok, maybe i went a little over the moral line, but considering that i fantasize abt kpop idols having sex i don't think morals matter that much here… ★ m.list | inbox :D join my taglist

you knew you were fucked when he walked into that class.

yes, the guy you had been fucking without any strings attached almost daily for two weeks was at the school's parents reunion at that exact moment. the problem? you were the teacher and he was the father of one of your students... with a huge fucking ring on his finger and his WIFE by his side.

eunbin was so cute, as always, the girl with asian eyes loved you as her teacher, and made sure to show you how much her father and mother who loved each other so much were there, after going through a five-year wedding anniversary dinner last night.

you tried to be professional, you tried your best not to show how pissed you were about the whole situation, but honestly yoon jeonghan should go fuck himself!

it was the worst time of your life, a student's mother telling you how much her daughter loved you, and all you could think about was her husband cumming inside your cunt. god...

you don't know what the hell he came up with, but after the meeting was over, while you were gathering your things in your class, jeonghan appeared behind you.

"you told me you were single!" you asked, visible mad.

"well... maybe i hid some information..."

"fuck you!" you said, stupidly.

"look, it's just a... detail" he said.

one detail? seriously? you shameless son of a bitch- you wanted to tell jeonghan to go kill himself, but you took a deep breath, trying to be professional about the situation

"your wife wouldn't like to see this, you better let me go."

he chuckled, now leaning in as he placed a hand on your waist, holding you in place. 

“you are probably right, but who says that i care? do you care?”

“yes. i do!”

“really?” he laughed. his mouth on your ear now, his hands started moved over your body. “then why don’t you push me away?”

“you are married, jeonghan”

“so? my wife isn’t here, is she?” he placed a wet kiss on your neck, that make you gasped. “maybe you are enjoying this…”

“do you have a free relationship?” jeonghan didn’t answer, he just laughed again. “that’s so fucking wrong. if i knew that you are married, nothing will happened in that bar, and after… what that fuck, who owns the apartment where we had sex?”

“is mine. only mine!” he laughed.

“did she cheated you too? is it some type of revenge?”

“no” he shook his head. “i’m cheating cause i want you… so bad.” his hands start moving up your thighs, pushing up the hem of your dress. “stop acting like you really care for it, you aren’t pushing me away”

“eunbin… your kid…”

“i don’t care!” he kissed your neck. “she isn’t here, is she?”

“but if she discover it..”

“then she wouldn’t have to discover it, that’s the whole point, pretty!” he kissed your neck again, a lot of wet kiss when he touched your tight.

“you are disgusting!”

“and you are a whore! so we match a lot…”

jeonghan kissed you

he kissed you in a wild way, in the naughty and delicious way that you liked so much, his tongue dominating the kiss, his hand roaming your body without any shame, his waist glued to yours making you feel his cock in his jeans, fuck, jeonghan was the devil!

“i’m gonna tell everything to your wife!”

he laughed, and grabbed your hair, forcing you to look at him.

“are you threatening me with that? really? and what will you tell her? that you are letting a married man use you as he pleases?”

you hit him in the face, hard, before spitting out the words that were in your head.

"don't treat me like a slut."

jeonghan laughed, his typical sadistic laugh, lightly caressing his cheek before turning to you again.

"but as far as i know, a woman who moans, fucks and cums for a married man is a slut!"

you wanted to resist, you wanted to hit jeonghan and expose to his wife how much of a scoundrel he was, but you did the opposite, you kissed him, kissed him as if you needed it, kissed him sitting on the table and letting him have free access to between your legs.

"you're pathetic!" you muttered as he knelt down, leaving kisses on the inside of your thigh as he lifted your skirt.

"and you're a disgusting whore! you know, we deserve each other!"

"be quick, you've already given me enough trouble for today!" you complained.

"i'm leaving on a 'business trip' on tuesday, i promise i'll fuck you properly in my apartment" he mocked, making it clear that the times he slept with you were because he made up to his wife that he was working.

but he got the message, undoing his belt and pulling your panties to the side, mocking how wet you were with the whole situation.

"what's up? my little bitch got wet watching me be a good father? do you have some kind of breed kink, huh? do you want me to cum inside you, to get you pregnant?" Jjonghan put two fingers inside you, just to make sure how wet you were, and as he imagined, you were fucking wet. "imagine how beautiful you'd look pregnant of me."

"shut up, i'd rather die than have your child!"

"you say that but you're spreading your legs for me, like a slut!" jeonghan pulled your hair hard.

"i do charity work for motherfuckers sometimes"

jeonghan spat in your face, making you laugh, you knew you had affected him and that was what you wanted.

and the next second he was inside you, fucking you as if your office door wasn't unlocked, fucking you as if his wife wasn't waiting meters away in the parking lot, fucking you as if he were a single man...

jeonghan threw your bag on the floor, laying you down on the table and fucking you even harder, holding your mouth so you wouldn't moan loudly and draw even more attention (as if the table shaking wasn't enough)

"sluts like you are only good for this, full pussy and covered mouth!"

"what's the name of that friend of yours?" you questioned, making jeonghan arch his eyebrow in confusion "ah, jeon wonwoo..."

"what's wrong with wonwoo?"

"i'm sure he'd love to help you keep my mouth quiet!"

"slut!" jeonghan growled before thrusting into you again, this time angrily, squeezing your neck and grabbing your waist. "you're mine, only mine, this pussy is my toy!"

"no, love! a slut's pussy has no owner... and you know it!"

jeonghan's eyes darkened, you had never seen him hate him, but that was exactly what he was feeling at that moment, jeonghan tightened his grip on your neck, leaning his body against yours and thrusting into you even harder.

"you're not even crazy enough to fuck with Wonwoo, i'll end his life," he growled once more.

"i'm not yours, jeonghanie," you teased him.

"you're. mine. only mine. my personal whore. my toy. my bitch. mine. mine. mine."

and you cummed.

yes, you admit it, it's pathetic to come with a married guy calling you 'mine', but you came.

"tell me you're not mine now, damn it! tell me you're not mine after you've come on my dick!"

jeonghan kept thrusting into you, but all you did was seriously tell him to stop.

he respected you, still confused by the situation.

"what's wrong? did i do something wrong? is everything okay? did i hurt you?"

"i came!" you answered simply.

"yes, i never let you not come..." you laughed, leaving him even more confused.

and then you stood up, still staggering a little, but lowering your skirt and panties, and picking up your bag from the floor.

"what are y-"

"your time with that whore here is over, jeonghan... by the way, tell wonwoo that i changed my mind and now i really want to sit on his cock."

"he... he... WHAT?"

"shit, i thought he told you that at that party at his house he tried to fuck me while you were sleeping." you laughed, knowing that you wouldn't be the only one to find out things that night. "good night, by the way... your wife pays me not to lower eunbin's grades... but i don't think she's gonna tell you about that, right... i'd have to explain to you what other secrets i keep."

and then you closed the door, leaving a confused Jeonghan.

and hard.

♡ @highvivvy, @bath1lda, @unlikelysublimekryptonite, @gyuguys, @aaa-sia