#millie x mouth

[tvshowscouples]

If you love Mouth&Millie (OTH) and you want reblog or like,this is the link of my reblog couples :)

thank you!

[astro-tag-9]

Hi, could I get a female character request please!! I'm a libra sun(11h) merc(10h) and mars (10h), Taurus moon (5h), Scorpio Venus (11h) and cap ascendant. Thanks in advance :)

💙Millicent Huxtable💙

(One Tree Hill)

[tisdae]

“so are you leaving soon?” “no, i think i’m gonna stay a while” “really, why?” “because you shouldn’t be alone” 😭😭😭😭🤧❤️

[roosterbruiser]

Hey! Any chance you could write some jealous!hangman? maybe that's why Hangman and rooster don't get along??Thank you!!! Love your writing!

𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐆𝐮𝐲

𝐚 𝐉𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞

You're just an excitable person.

Really, you are--like the kind of person that dances in their seat when they have a bite of really good food and runs through crowded airports into your boyfriend's arms after deployments (even if it was just a month or two). You're always the life of the party--which is precisely why the squadron requests your presence at The Hard Deck whenever they can get their hands on you.

Jake is pretty laid back for the most part, especially when it comes to you. Maybe it's a little bit because he knows how handsome he is and the pull he has over you, but it's a lot because the two of you just work. He's certain--as he should be--that your relationship has no weak points. You're as secure as secure can be and you have the shared home and rescued puppy to prove it.

It's not your fault that people are naturally drawn to you. You're the kind of person that people will just walk up to--Jake's witnessed it on many occasions. You're someone people will approach when they need their picture taken or when someone's all turned around and is in need of directions. But even odder than that, he's witnessed complete strangers come up to you with the sole purpose of just not being strangers anymore. Sometimes people will just start talking to you about what you're going to eat at a restaurant or if you're going to any concerts soon.

Jake loves that you're so easy to talk to and even if you're in the middle of the most mind-numbingly boring conversation he's ever witnessed, you are totally engrossed in what the other person is saying. You're just intrinsically good.

When you drink, that magnetism is amplified by about a hundred. You get plenty of male attention when you're drinking and Jake is certain that it has a little bit to do with that sexy bleary-look your eyes get when you're drunk and a lot to do with how much you love to dance. And the dancing part is definitely helped by your affinity for short dresses and big heels.

But Jake's totally cool--Hell, sometimes even Jake will capitalize on your free drinks and take a few for himself at the price of a sweet kiss. Privately, he calls it the sweetheart tax. But he would die of embarrassment if any members of his squadron knew that.

Tonight is not so different than the other nights. Of course he lets you drink, promising to stay sober, which he always does. He doesn't love drinking--he can be a bit of an ass when he drinks and one time he made you cry on accident and he vowed to never do that again--and he likes to keep a clear head if you're out in public, especially if you're consuming copious amounts of tequila at a Navy bar like you are right now.

You look especially good tonight--even you know that you look especially good tonight, which is not something you would often admit what with your innate sense of humility. Your dress is snug and fits just the way you like it to, your hair is just working today, your shoes make your legs look a mile long, and you just got your nails done.

Even if you didn't want to admit you looked good tonight, everyone around you would convince you otherwise. Hell, your dress was almost the reason you and Jake stayed home before you were able to get the two of you out the door with minimal foreplay.

Plus, Bradley had no issue telling you just how damn good you looked as soon as you came into The Hard Deck.

"Oh, you are a sight for sore eyes," Rooster greets with a grin, throwing his arms around you. "Y'look like an angel!"

Jake watches with a smile, his hand lingering on the small of your back--you are friends with the entire squadron, especially Bradley. The two of you have found some sort of common ground between a love for record collecting and vintage sunglasses. Besides, Jake isn't a caveman--he doesn't desire to throw you over his shoulder and run you back to your shared cave on all-fours every time a man talks to you.

"Little old me?" You ask with a sweet smile, curtseying much to Bradley's amusement. "I just threw this together!"

"For two hours," Jake adds teasingly, winking at Bradley.

You bump Jake and he just grins.

"Hey, I'll get you a drink," Bradley says before Jake can. "Tequila soda, yeah? Jake, you want anything?"

Jake shakes his head. You just shoot him a thumbs up, grinning as you turn to look at Jake. Jake has made a habit of not being able to keep up with you on the dance floor on tequila-induced nights. You're a few years younger than him, but you also seem to have limitless energy. He's more of a stick-around-in-the-corner-and-play-pool kind of guy and you're more of a twerk-until-it-hurts kind of girl.

"Gonna tear it up tonight, angel?" He asks, grinning as you press your lips against his with a laugh.

"Don't I always?" You grin, absolutely glowing beneath the golden lights of The Hard Deck.

"'Course you do," he says softly, pressing your hair behind your ears to get a better look at that pretty face of yours. "Your world, angel, we're just livin' in it."

That makes you blush and roll your eyes all in one huff--you'd be lying if you said corny lines like that didn't strike you right in the chest, right where your love for Jake pulses.

"You trying to get into my pants? Cause I don't have any on," you tease, kissing him again.

"Already did," he says slyly, nudging his nose against yours. "Remember?"

He melts for a moment, holding you against him, relishing in the feeling of your lips against his. You're practically vibrating, though--you're ready to hit the dance floor and start your very long night.

So when Jake pulls away from you, looking sobered and soft, your spine tingles.

"I'll keep an eye on you, okay, angel?"

He says this with affection--not possession. You're a young woman at a bar that is planning on getting plastered tonight in that tiny dress--you're glad to have an extra pair of eyes on you, especially since those eyes are attached to your Lieutenant Commander boyfriend that works out every single day.

"You better," you say as you sink your teeth into his lower lip softly, not-so-innocently pressing your hips against his. "Cause it's all for you, Lieutenant."

Jake feels all the blood in his body run hot--hotter than the San Diego sun that's finally retreating into the ocean. And suddenly, the jean shorts you like on him so much are getting tighter around his hardening cock--the one you had left lipstick rings on before leaving the house.

You're not playing nice--you know this and he knows it. You're in the middle of The Hard Deck and you're pretty sure that Maverick is sitting at the bar along with the rest of the people that Jake has to see on a day-to-day basis. You can't do anything too risky here; you're pushing it. And the both of you are already on edge from your escapades earlier.

Jake swallows hard, pressing your body into his partly because fuck, it feels so good and partly because fuck, he can't let you get away with being a brat. His eyes are narrowed in that way that makes excitement flood your folds, his lips pink as he licks them. You're certain that just looking at the tip of his pink tongue is making your nipples hard through your bra--shit, they're practically aching for his mouth and he's barely done or said anything.

"As it should be," Jake says lowly, slyly wrapping your hair around his hand--firm enough to keep you in place but nowhere near hard enough to harm you--and gives a small tug. It makes a little sound fall from your bitten lips, something between a moan and a whimper. "You're mine, angel."

Feminism retreats from your body, flooding down and pooling thickly in your underwear. You squeeze your thighs together, biting a smile, batting your lashes at him sweetly. Dammit if your eyes don't look perfect, the color of them enhanced by the purple eyeshadow he'd watched you so carefully apply after your shower.

But you're in a teasing mood tonight. Before leaving the house, you'd given him just enough to keep him wanting more, just enough to get him through a few hours at The Hard Deck before he could really take his time with you. Some languid strokes with your manicured hands, a few sopping minutes of cock-warming him with your throat as your lipstick stained his throbbing cock. He'd, of course, insisted on hiking your dress up and tasting you but you'd told him you wanted to wait until later, when the two of you got home from the bar. It was your own personal game of edging and your mind was already getting fuzzy the more turned on you became.

So you bite your lip again, slot your long leg between his and innocently let his stiff cock rest against the plush skin of your thigh.

Then you make a show of glancing at the fourth finger of your left hand, the one that sits naked. With your brows furrowed and your lips purse, you look at him questioningly.

Yours? the look reads so clearly.

Jake's biting a grin, shaking his head softly. He can do nothing but submit to your little game, like he always does, like he always will. Because he knows that as much as you like to push him to the edge and let him teeter, you're going to be coming apart underneath him in one way or the other later. It's his name you're going to be chanting as you convulse and fist those nice sheets you like so much, his hair you're going to be gripping as he devours you, his cock you're going to be drooling on. All he has to do is play along and wait. He can do that--even if he has a semi all night.

"Don't get yourself in trouble now," Jake warns, swiftly biting your left ring finger before kissing it better a moment later, peering at you through his lashes. "Cause I'll see the punishment is fit for the crime."

That makes you downright shiver right there. And you're just about to clear your throat and say something back, but then Bradley Bradshaw is kissing your cheek and pulling you away from Jake as he presses a foggy glass in your hand.

You and Rooster dance for a very, very long time. Jake wins four games of pool, keeping a diligent eye on the dance floor as Rooster lifts you into the air and spins you around or gives you a piggy-back ride to the jukebox. He even watches as you dissolve into a fit of giggles during a slow song when Rooster tries to teach you how to ballroom dance, your empty glasses piling up on the ledge of the bar.

This isn't enough to make Jake jealous--no, he's good friends with Rooster. He's glad that Rooster at least has the energy to keep up with your desire to dance all night. And he's glad that you have another set of eyes on you while you're on the dance floor because between the pool game he's playing and whatever baseball game is on TV, Jake can't watch you every single moment that the two of you are there.

What Jake doesn't know is that you're watching him, too. Honestly, you're drunk--but you're pacing yourself, keeping yourself in check for the long night you want to have with Jake as soon as the bar closes. So you let Rooster buy you your drinks and you dance with him, throwing your head back, letting your hair billow in the stuffy yeast-scented air of The Hard Deck. Rooster's a good dancer and he likes to show you off, the gentleman, so it's not hard to keep entertained in his arms.

But you can't seem to take your eyes away from your boyfriend. He looks damn good in those shorts, even if they're getting blurrier as your night pushes forward. He's wearing that button-down you like and after the pool corner got crowded--AKA hot--he popped the first few buttons. Lately, he's been letting his chest hair grow out and it is the most delicious sandy blonde color, growing politely all across his broad body.

"Darlin', y'thinking about another man while you're in my arms?" Rooster teases, sloppily grinning against your ear as he leads you around the hollow-sounding wooden floors. You're pretty sure you keep stepping on his feet in your big block heels, but he's either too drunk to notice or too much of a gentleman to say anything.

"Can't help it," you mumble to him pitifully, glancing in Jake's direction again as his muscles strain against the tight sleeves of his shirt when he sinks a ball. "He's a good looking man, Rooster Bradshaw."

"I think I'm drunk," Rooster slurs, shrugging, "'cause I totally get what you mean. He--he is a good looking man."

Rooster's face is flushed like it always is when he's drunk. He's grinning something fierce, only getting more exuberant as his alcohol content amplifies. He's perpetually happy when he drinks, which you welcome, and sometimes that means that he's touchy. Like right now, his hands are low on your waist--very nearly your hips--and his chest is pressed against yours. He's not being forceful and he's not pinning you against him, no, not at all. Plus, you like Rooster. He smells good and you're safe here in his arms. You're certain he'd never try anything.

Jake looks over at you again and finds that you're already looking at him, teeth sunken into your lower lip. Your eyes are that endlessly sexy sort of bleary, the kind that prefaces total drunkenness, and your cheeks are pink. Even with sweat on your hairline, even with your lipstick smeared from missing the straw a fair share of times, you look fucking radiant. Jake is positive that if you weren't in Rooster's arms all night, you'd have been approached by every other man in this bar. And he's man enough to admit that the thought of a slew of men getting to witness all of your unbridled beauty gets under his collar a little bit.

You're wondering if Jake knows that you're thinking about his cock right now, about the lipstick you left there and if it's faded now. You're thinking about giving in and asking if he'll just take you to the bathroom right here, right now. You're regretting--so, so much--your denial of pleasure all those hours ago. Just watching your boyfriend's eyes rake over your body, those pink lips in a flat line, that Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard has you clamping your thighs together.

It almost makes you delirious to think about his hot breath fanning out over your thighs; about him merely pushing your panties aside because he can't wait, angel; about his nose pressing softly against your swollen clit as he licks long stripes up your wetness; about his hands securing you against the bathroom door, fingers splayed across the meat of your thighs and flesh of your bottom; about having to cover your mouth with your wet palms when he makes you cum.

You have to do something about the wetness between your legs--it's throbbing. It's uncomfortable.

So you enter the final stage of this edging game.

There's an hour until closing. If you two were different (normal) people, you'd absolutely meet each other halfway and both admit to wanting to go home to get the last (best) part of your night started. But you're you and Jake is Jake. So instead of telling each other what you really want, you'll do whatever is at your disposal to make the other fold.

You're the reigning champion of this game. You'd gotten him once by tying a cherry stem into a knot with only your tongue. Another time it'd been when you'd accidentally dropped an ice cube between your breasts and opened your shirt up to air it out. Another time was when you'd asked Javy to teach you pool--yeah, Jake didn't last long watching you bent over in that little dress with Javy's arms around you.

You'd do just about anything to push Jake over the edge, which is a thought that sends a shockwave through your body, a thought that makes all the blood in your face sizzle.

And suddenly, it clicks.

You know what you're going to do--you know how you're going to win. So carefully, you nudge Bradley closer to Jake. Not close enough for Jake to hear your conversation and not enough for Bradley to become suspicious of your intentions, but close enough for Jake to get a clear shot of your two forms.

"Rooster?" You ask with a sweet smile.

He grins down at you, smoothing a hand through his curls, squeezing your waist.

"What can I do for you, darlin'?"

You smile as sweetly as you can muster, half-sure you're snarling at him. You dislodge the lipstick from its place between your breasts and point at him with it. Like the good boy he is, his eyes never leave yours, not even when he knows the view he will have had of your cleavage from this angle would be awe-inducing.

"Put your shades on, Roos," you say, tilting your head and slyly checking if Jake is watching you--which he is. Jake is watching you very closely, actually, holding his pool cue with a grip that is far too tight. "Need a mirror."

Rooster is all too happy to reply, nodding rapidly as he lets his shades fall over his eyes, angling his face towards you. The two of you are close right now, chests grazing each other when either of you breathe, and your foot is resting between his.

"Thanks," you mumble to him with a wink.

Rooster's too drunk to feel Jake's gaze burning a hole in his cheek. He's still grinning, giving you a lazy salute.

"Not self but country," he slurs, picking a freckle on your face to stare at so he doesn't get dizzy.

You make a real show of it all, straightening your shoulders before pushing your hair to your back. You know Jake is looking at the soft skin of your neck, that if you were home right now, he'd be pressing feverish kisses all along your throat. But you just let him watch as you pucker your lips and turn your face to Bradley's, looking deeply into the reflective lenses of his sunglasses as you carefully start to apply the ruby-colored lipstick.

Bradley's really not watching you inappropriately, but his hands are still resting low on your waist, which you're glad for because he's anchoring you to the slippery floor. And you know it's only fueling the fire surely burning in Jake's chest right now.

Jake is absolutely watching--he's watching as Bradley's thumb rub little circles over your dress, watching as your breasts graze the exposed skin of his chest, watching Bradley lean down and seemingly stare deeply into your eyes as you hold your pretty mouth open and swipe that devilishly red lipstick on it.

He can't look away--he's tried. He's mesmerized, trying to think of what his next move should be. He knows that you'll be unreasonably excited about winning again tonight, gloating in the afterglow. But he's burning for you right now, his jeans so tight against his crotch that he's pondering grinding himself subtly against the pool table.

But then you seal the deal--push him over the edge.

You lean forward and press a soft kiss to Rooster's chest. It's a friendly kiss, really, one that Jake wouldn't bat an eye at any day. Hell, he'd let your mother kiss him like that. But what makes it sinful is the imprint of your lips on Rooster's skin--nearly identical to the tattoos on Jake's cock.

"Thanks, Rooster, I really appreciate it--!"

You know you're in for it when your hand is grasped suddenly, when you're weaving through the parting crowd at a pace that only a man with a plan can muster.

"Uh, bye?" Rooster calls, eyebrow perched.

You barely have time to wave.

Jake is holding on tight, mindful of your nails and drunkenness, as he navigates to the front doors with you in tow. He's throbbing all over, positively aching for you. And you've won--again--so he knows you must be smirking behind him. He almost can't bare to turn around and confirm his suspicion.

"I can feel your smirk," Jake growls over his shoulder, brows furrowed.

You try to bite it, but you can't. Your cheeks are positively tight with glee.

"What smirk, Lieutenant?" You ask innocently.

You're almost past the front door when he shakes his head, again not looking at you.

"That one," he says, sighing. "Fuck, angel, I can hear it."

"What are you gonna do about it, Lieutenant?"

He shivers--you have absolutely, irrevocably, won. He is all in.

"Don't you mean what are you gonna do about it, angel?" Jake asks the moment you breach the exit, each of you sighing in tandem to be out of the stuffy bar and into the cool, salty air.

Before a moment's even passed, he has you shoved up against the wooden siding. God, you can feel him throbbing through his denim as his cock presses into your hip. And he can feel how wet you are when his knee wedges between your legs. You're soft right now, body totally malleable and trusting beneath his grasp. And fuck if that doesn't make Jake all the more harder--you trust him so much.

He's feverishly nipping at your neck and you can do nothing but tip your head back, let your mouth part, and let it happen.

"Think you better make it up to me," he mutters against your skin, biting down on your collarbone and slamming his palm over your mouth before anyone can hear your strangled moan. "Ain't that right, angel?"

You blink up at him when he lets his forehead rest against yours, batting those pretty lashes at him. And nodding your head slowly, he nearly begins to tremble.

"Good girl," he whispers, letting his hand move to rest on your throat. "I like good girls."

any interest in a part two????

if you liked this, consider checking out my Jake x You story!

here is my tag list!!

[jingycakes]

It’s after the fact, but idc here’s the other thing I worked on for Mipper Week.

The prompts for this one were Historical + Formalwear, assuming 50 years ago counts as historical, I made a cute drawing of Millie and Ripper getting married in the 70’s.

Interracial marriage has a less dicier history in Canada than in the United States, still I imagine it came with stigmatization because the past was the past or something something….

[cuddlyreader]

Another OTH challenge if you feel like doing it :) How would you rank all these OTH ships from the one you love most to the one you like least with no ties? Naley, Leyton, Brucas, Brulian, Jeyton, Clay/Quinn, Alex/Chase, Mia/Chase, Brooke/Chase (I always forget they were a thing!), Mouth/Millie.

I work at a university that is having opening week, so I have had a super busy and long day. The notification for this made me smile. I just wanted you to know that. :)

Leyton

Naley

Mouth/Millie

Brulian

Jeyton

Clay/Quinn

Brucas

I'm going to be honest here. I didn't like Chase and couldn't have cared less about who he dated. I didn't like him with Brooke. I don't remember Alex, which is funny since I love Jana Kramer, and only remember that Mia sang.

[prickly-paprikash]

Kendrick doesn't just hate Drake as a person. He hates the very idea of Drake.

Hip-Hop is rooted in revolution. In defiance. These are the songs of an oppressed group of people, and decades upon decades people have hated it. Accused of being meaningless and invalid. Media outlets took steps to belittle hip-hop and make sure it isn't recognized as an art form and as a means to fight back.

2Pac spoke of wealth disparity and inequality. Tupac was literally a member of a communist organization when he was younger and never stopped speaking against capitalism.

Lauryn Hill spoke of the struggles a woman faces. Not just women, but black women. Salt-N-Peppa. Queen Latifah. MISSY FUCKING ELLIOT.

N.W.A made sure people knew about police brutality and violence against the Black community.

And now, in this day and age, we're also experiencing an explosion of Queer Hip-Hop. Lil Nas X is at the forefront of this. Lil Uzi Vert came out as non-binary and uses they/them pronouns, even when they knew that a lot of their fans would never use it or even respect them for it. Auntie Diaries, a song about a young man who grew up in a transphobic environment and bought into those beliefs, but could never fully do it because his Uncle loved him so much and taught him a lot of life lessons, and that wisdom translated to him accepting his cousin as a woman as well.

Drake is none of that.

He's the perfect representation of what people think hip-hop is. Flexing. Posturing. Objectifying women. A fucker so insecure he bought 2Pac's ring just to feel like he's part of the black community. Rejected by Rihanna publicly. Tried to groom Millie Bobby Brown. Kissed and inappropriately touched an underage girl during his concert. His songs have inspired so many young boys to treat girls like shit. His belief that the amount of rings and chains and cars he has is the true meaning of success.

Additional Edit: This is my fault. If this post gains more views, then it would be remiss of me not to add to this. It was my fault to begin with, not stating this beforehand because while I did know, I got lost in celebrating Hip-Hop in a place that doesn't usually do so, and rightfully so.

2Pac did fight for wealth equality and better social living for the black community. He also has a long, long history of battery, domestic abuse, and sexual harassment against women. Specifically against women of color. He made a song to celebrate his own mother, but outright refused to give the same show of respect to other women in his life. His hypocritical nature was brushed off in later decades, just the way I did now.

N.W.A is the same. Sexual assault charges, violence—they spoke of Police reform, but refuses to give the same treatment back towards the women in their lives.

50 cent refuses to backtrack on any of his misogynistic lyrics.

Modern rappers of today, such as the dead XXXtentacion. 6ix9ine. Kodak Black.

I do love Hip-Hop. I love rap. And the music itself has always been anti-authoritarian at its core, because those are its roots. And I was happy that circles that did not normally know of it or enjoy it were getting into it, even for one thing like this rap feud.

Lil Nas X, Little Simz, Childish Gambino, Missy Elliot, Queen Latifah, Lauryn Hill—rappers who have at the very least consistently tried to put their money where their mouth is. Who have tried to act in accordance to what they rap and write and sing for.

@shehungthemoon @ohsugarsims finnthehumanmp3 were the ones who rightfully clarified in the comments. I know an apology won't correct my hypocrisy or my stupidity. I should have added all of this before making this post, but I wanted so badly to celebrate a genre of music but failed to do my due diligence in showing a better, holistic view of it. If anyone felt triggered, offended, troubled, frustrated or any other intense negative emotions surrounding this, please do block me. I'm sorry.

[moremaybank]

EDIBLE , jj maybank

── KINKTOBER: OVERSTIM. + DACRYPHILIA

"touchin' on my body, i can't help but feel impeccable." ─ flo milli, edible.

jj maybank x bratty!reader

(18+) unprotected sex, overstimulation, dacryphilia, mean!jj, mentions of breeding (barely)

you mouth off, and your favourite pogue puts you in your place. with ease.

KINKTOBER , OBX MASTERLIST

your legs quivered terribly at the work jj had been doing on you. he impaled you with his thick cock, over and over like he was desperate to steal the air from your lungs. you tried to crawl away, just a little bit to escape the overstimulation. but you should've known not to.

"where d'you think you're goin', huh? you're gonna take this fuckin' cock." his hand surges his hand through your hair, gripping it harshly and jerking your head up. "actin' like this ain't what you got on your knees 'n begged me for."

the hand he had clinging to your hip held you tighter, thick fingertips and blunt nails biting into your skin. his hips seemed to work harder, like a well-oiled machine as he speared his cock deeper inside of you. he made you take every single inch, each thrust landing him balls deep inside the cunt that never failed to fit nice and snug around him like a glove. he grunted at you as he fucked you, muttering how this kind of hard fucking was what you deserved for pissing him off.

just like you always did.

no matter how much you two got on each other's nerves, you'd always fucked it out like champions. you crawled back to each other every time, despite the difference in status. that's just how things were.

you mouthed off, and your favourite pogue put you in your place. with ease.

a single hand of yours flew backward, pressing against the upper part of his pelvis. your nails scratched at his skin pleadingly in an effort to get him to take it easy on you. it was so damn good, but it was so damn much. you weren't sure how much longer you'd be lucid or even able to breathe with how deep he was pressing into you.

"nah, nah, nah. don’t run from this," he chided, smacking your hand away. in a flash, he was pulling you up by the hair and curling his arm around your throat. he used his chokehold on you to bring your back flush to his chest, all while maintaining the unforgiving drilling he was giving you. "always talkin’ shit, runnin’ that pretty mouth." his other arm snaked around your hips, calloused fingertips finding your clit and prodding at it harshly. "tellin' me i don’t fuck you hard enough. like you haven't had dick in days. now, look at you. can't even handle me."

"please, daddy! c-can't take it!" you gasped your words out, like you could barely pull yourself together to beg for mercy. jj fucking loved it.

but he keeps his act up, scoffing like you'd just insulted him. "you think a please, daddy'll work on me?" his lips brushed against the shell of your ear, and his arm tightened around your neck. "'m sorry. y'got me all wrong, princess."

he slammed you back down against your mattress, your cheek smushed into the high thread-count sheets. you could feel his hand pressing down on the back of your head, asserting dominance while his other hand pulled you back to meet his thrusts. he was primal and downright mean with the way he was fucking you, and though your skin was buzzing, you wouldn't have it, or him, any other way.

you started to cry, tears breaking free from the border of your waterlines and flowing down your cheeks. they sank into the cotton bedding, and your sobs dide against it as well. you were bawling out a weak and tortured daddy as best as you could, but to jj, it just sounded like babbling.

good, he thought. just how he liked you.

"look at those tears. cryin' like it'll make me stop 'n be nice." the laugh he let out next was almost psychopathic. but it was so fucking hot, you were losing your mind. "you're jus' makin' me wanna nut in you."

you looked at him from your peripheral vision. his sharktooth necklace bounced against his sternum with each movement. his teeth were nearly engraved into his bottom lip. those signature blue eyes were trained solely on you. on how fucked out you were beneath him.

"yeah. that's it. cry for it, baby. cry for it," he gritted out with a clenched jaw. "'member earlier? you were sayin' i was scared to lose you? think you're scared of losin' me, sweetheart. scared of losin' this good dick, right?"

you hiccuped almost miserably, fingers roaming the mattress until they found chunks of your comforter to hold onto. "gonna cum! 'm gonna cum!"

"yeah...know you are. this pussy always cums for me, like that's its job. such a good fuckin' pussy."

you clenched around him, sucking him in tighter. your walls trembled, and he knew he had you right where he wanted you.

"the only reason i keep comin’ back is 'cause she loves me so damn much."

[landoughnut]

My Woman

♡ masterlist - request!

♡ pairing - max verstappen x fem!reader (fc - cindy kimberly)

♡ summary - max fighting with people thirsting in his girlfriends comments

♡ warnings - horny/simp max, crack, some fluff, some cursing, use of y/n

♡ w/c & a/n - smau | i actually love writing these ones but ive gotta learn how to do the other types of smau's people make with twitter and stuff ahahahaha

maxverstappen1 CBUXHNHDUNZ liked by yourusername

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[agendabymooner]

SOMETHING WELL-BEHAVED !!! OSCAR P. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: sometimes, the quietest people in public made the goodest boys in bed.

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), explicit language, sub!oscar, praising, p in v, oscar being overstimmed and potentially on subspace, drabble because i haven't written in a while oml

note: pardon me, i'm just milly rocking into 2025 rn. this season was in shambles i needed to write something beforehand.

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist // o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

‘stay still.’ 

two words that she repeated over and over again, but oscar was far off the ground as of this point that he wasn’t sure what those words meant. 

“stay still,” she murmured before catching his earlobe between her teeth, her hand reaching behind his head and tugging on his hair like she owned him.

oh, she owned him as much as he did her. but right now, he was a putty being molded into a good boy that he was.

“m-my god,” oscar stammered, his brain foggy with desire and desperation to feel her touch.

“shhh… stay still,” she said before clambering up his lap and sinking down on his cock- his well-loved cockthat she couldn’t get enough of when it came to riding it. “ah, god.”

“fuck yes, baby,” oscar whimpered hoarsely, his eyes squinting whenever he felt the beats that made a rhythm between the pair of them. she didn’t have to sing to create quite a masterpiece. “god, this pussy of yours, baby.”

“you like that?”

“fuck- yes, honey,” oscar said needily, “need this cunt so bad.”

“yeah?” 

she supposed that the quietest people in public made the most vocal men in bed. she wasn’t sure. oscar was always vocal in bed, and almost domineering. but he was never… submissive.

not until now.

“god, fuck me,” oscar cried out in a groggy voice, “yes, yes, ride me, baby. ride me. please, baby, please.”

“good boy,” she crooned, her hips allowing her to ride oscar like she would a horse. his cock had never gotten soft from their previous rounds; oscar was that horny for her. “good fucking boy, baby.”

“yes, ‘m your good boy,” oscar said, his mouth practically drooling as soon as she pressed her two fingers into it. his mouth swirled around those fingers, coating them wet. “mffh- mfhm-“

she never was once the domineering type. but if her beau acted like this more often…

yeah… perhaps she’d fuck oscar like a good boy that he was more often.

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa @magnummagnussen @happy-nico @architect-2015 @hiireadstuff @biancathecool @scorpiomindfuck @stinkyjax @youdontknowmeshh @hyneyedfiz @decafmickey @lightdragonrayne @marknolee @xylinasdiary @anotherblackreader

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1 @savrose129 @maxillness @bigsimperika @xoscar03

[6gumi]

blessed by the heavens above!

synopsis ﹒ jujutsu kaisen men and their tittie obsession !

pairings ﹒ satoru gojo 、suguru geto 、choso kamo 、kento nanami 、ryomen sukuna ( implications of heian form ! ) 、toji fushiguro x f!reader

cw ﹒nsfw MDNI. tits, tits, tits ! ! ! 、titplay 、body worship ( ? ) 、established relationships ( ? ) 、petnames ( pretty thing 、princess 、reader referred to as “girl” once, etc ) 、titsucking 、size difference 、fingering ( sukuna only ) 、 toji called “daddy” once 、 jujutsu kaisen men n’ their luv for titties . . . | tag ! @diorsbrando

note﹒BACK W/ THE JJK WRITINGS ! ! YAAAAY ! ! coughs coughs wrote this while i was sickies . . . (again) i kept sniffling & sniffing each word i wrote down cries . . . i hope i didn’t make too many mistakes :> | reblogs are highly appreciated. if you want to talk to me or send thirsts / requests, feel free to send me an ask ! — millie ♡

୨୧ SATORU GOJO

gojo was having a rough day . . . the higher ups giving him an earful here and there . . . and exorcizing curses left and right, he was exhausted, so it was almost obvious how he was gonna relax for the entire night ! by laying on your chest ! “i’m gonna take it off now, kay?” his large hands ran through the silky piece of fabric covering your entire body. his beautiful eyes widened at the sight of your bare chest, appreciation clear in his gaze. he licked his lips, unable to resist reaching out and lightly grazing his fingers over your skin, a low hum rumbling in his throat. "fuck . . . now that's what I'm talking about," he says, his voice husky with desire. "damn, angel. your tits are absolutely perfect, just like you." with a mischievous glint in his eye, your exhausted boyfriend leaned in and took one of her nipples into his mouth, suckling it gently before releasing it with a pop . . smirking up at you before latching his mouth back onto your nipple.

shit, he loved your tits, he’d ways pay attention to its warmth, and how it felt within his wet mouth. his mouth nearly watering as he struggled to contain his excitement. gojo’s teeth lazily bit at your nipple, trying to be as gentle as possible . . . breathing heavily through his nose trying to maintain some semblance of control amidst the temptation of your body. you were so small compared to him, yet here he was suckin’ and biting at your nipples . . practically crushing your body from below. despite that, his eyes never left their prize, you. reaching out, he brushed a thumb over one taut nipple of yours . . . earning a sharp gasp. “you make me wanna touch, taste, and explore every inch of you, princess.” the sorcerer spoke playfully, squeezing gently. “can we do this every time i come home?”

୨୧ SUGURU GETO

suguru’s heart swelled as he watched you curl up next to him, he needed your warmth and you were giving him just that. the soft whimpers you made . . . drove him to the edge. the room was bathed in a warm, inviting glow from the fairy lights strung around the windows, casting a rosy hue on the soft sheets and fluffy pillows surrounding you both. gently, suguru traced his fingers along the smooth curve of your hip, drawing lazy circles that made you squirm ever so slightly. despite that, it was a simple pleasure, but it brought him immense joy to see the effect he had on his adorable girlfriend. the sorcerer leaned in closer, whispering into your ear . . . bringing his voice down to a low yet soft whisper as his breath tickled your delicate skin. "see? you’re doing so well, bun," your boyfriend cooed softly, his voice full of warmth and affection. “hm . . . were these things always this cute?”

“your body’s divine, i could look at it for eternity.” suguru examined your tits, he was almost . . . fascinated with how they look. god, how did he not notice their beauty until now? with a tender smile, your boyfriend began to play with your ample breasts, pinching and twisting your sensitive nipples as he watched your pretty face contort in pure pleasure. “yeah . . . my darling likes that, hm?” he could feel his dick pressing against it’s confines as he grunted, squeezing at your pretty breasts even harder than before. “. . . s—sugu . . .” a soft murmur left your lips, your teary eyes gazing up at him. “ . . ‘squeezin’ too hard, sugu . .” “lovely . . . if you say that, i can guarantee that i’ll squeeze these pretty things even harder than i already am. so keep that pretty mouth shut and let ‘sugu do all the work, got it?”

୨୧ CHOSO KAMO

“ . . . baby,” choso’s low voice reverberated through the room, his stare sweet and gentle as he pinched your nipple against his thumb. his own eyes were wide at the display of your breasts, a shiver of desire coursed through him . . . swallowing a lump in his throat as he could feel his dick beginning to swell, pressing against the fabric of his pants. "they’re so beautiful . . “ choso murmured, his voice thick with need for you, the sight was too much. unknowingly licking his lips, he brought your other breast to his mouth, sucking on the nipple and teasing it with his tongue. the cursed spirit’s fingers trailed downwards to your sides, teasing the edge of your panties . . . his grip tightening, almost urging you to rock against him, to feel the length of his erection.

"you’re a good girl," choso praised, his fingers lightly tracing over the curves of your breasts nonstop. he was addicted to the feeling . . . the feeling of your sensitive skin sent shivers down his spine. choso leaned in once more, his lips finding your other nipple, licking and sucking gently, watching as you arched into the touch. "you’re a good girl for letting me see these beautiful things . . . so damn hot," choso bit down gently, a soft smile playing on his lips. choso knew the real remedy for your heat; a good, deep pounding from his throbbing cock. but yet . . . he wanted your breasts . . he wanted to give them his attention, worship them. you always knew he had a thing for titties . . . but tonight, he let his obsession shine through even more. your nipples peaked under the gentle pressure, and the sight sent a surge of arousal coursing through his body. “so pretty, baby . . . such pretty tits you have . .”

୨୧ KENTO NANAMI

nanami’s grip tightens on your arm, a low growl rumbling in his chest. he’s been waiting for this, for you. he’s been away from you for too long, a dreadful feeling of irritation was running through his veins and you noticed that. “you . . . okay, ken?” your husband sighs, hauling you onto his lap, the heat from his body seeping through you. you’re smaller than him, and he loves that. it makes him feel good. nanami’s hand cups your breast, kneading it roughly through the fabric. " . . . i’m just exhausted, princess," he cooed slowly, his voice thick with desire. “just . . . just wanna taste you tonight.” nanami had never imagined himself as the type to be so impulsive, but now here he was, unable to resist the pleasure that awaited him, the irresistible joy of feeling your pretty tits he loved so much against his hands.

“ . . . you’re beautiful.” nanami’s heart raced as he feasted on the sight of you infront of him, he was a man who had never allowed himself such indulgences, but now, in this moment, he found he could no longer resist. lowering his head, your husband tenderly kissed each of your swollen nipples, his hands gently massaging the flesh that surrounded them. your whines grew more insistent and adorable, prompting nanami to do more than he should. the sound of your whine was like music to his ears, sending a thrill down his spine as he leaned down . . . lips brushing against your other nipple, nibbling softly. “pardon me for my ignorance, sweetheart . . . i just needed you so much today. you’re so beautiful . . . it drives me absolutely crazy. these tits . . . so irresistible.”

୨୧ RYOMEN SUKUNA

sukuna reveled in the warmth of your body against his own. the feel of your soft yet delicious flesh beneath his fingertips sent electric shock down his spine. sukuna roughly squeezed one of your breasts, marveling at its firmness. “m—more please . .” you muttered against his chest, the curse’s large hand slid further down, fingers probing between your legs as the wetness he discovered sent a surge of excitement coursing through him. “. . . impatient girl.” the king of curses slowly pushed two fingers inside of you, feeling the tight warmth enveloping his fingers. “you’re a needy slut, you know that?” he scoffs, his fingers in and out of your pretty pussy gently. As he did so, he leaned in closer, “here you are . . . begging me for more. just wait ‘till i fuck this slutty pussy of yours ‘till all you see are stars,”

sukuna’s fingers worked expertly, chuckling lowly at your sweet whines while his other arms held your thighs, keeping your pretty legs spread for him “pathetic . . . ‘s like you’re easy to break.” his fingers danced further as his thumb circled your clit while the others plunged in and out of your cunt, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge. "just look at these tits . . .” with each syllable of his words he spoke, his digits gradually worked faster, latching his mouth right on your nipples . . . transitioning between sucking, nipping, teasing. the king of curses could feel the heat of your desire, and he wanted to be the one to quench it. “so fuckin’ small . . . even your pussy can’t take my fingers.”

୨୧ TOJI FUSHIGURO

"do’ya like this, doll?" toji’s way of relieving his stress is getting a small ‘lil squeeze of your tits ! or . . . perhaps more than that. his cruel gaze glanced down at your smaller stature, a cocky grin on his lips as he was practically looming over you. toji’s hand slid down your figure, digits dipping between your legs, stroking your wetness. “tell me you want this. tell me you want me." his hands roamed over your entire body, his touch confident and bold as he explored you willingly beneath his body. "damn, you're even more amazing than i imagined," he whispered into your ear, “ . . . might ‘hafta keep ya. don’t want other morons stealin’ ya, doll-face.” toji’s smirk widened as he gently stroked your hair, relishing in the sight of your precious expressions. it was intoxicating to him, this vulnerability that you endured had him in a chokehold.

“always wondered how these pretty tits tasted, baby. guess i should have a ‘lil taste myself tonight,” toji’s frame leaned even closer, looming over yours. “c’mon sweet girl, let daddy take care of you," he whispered, his hand sliding down to cup your breast, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh before he began to lick and nibble, lapping up the sweet taste of your skin . . his thumb circling with increasing speed as your moans grew louder, more desperate. “fuck, pretty-dolly . . . yer tits are drivin’ me crazy.” toji’s low voice rumbled against his chest, his free hand gripping your hip as he held you firmly in place. “c’mere. sit on my lap, pretty thing . i can give ya somethin’ else to moan and whine about.”

© 6GUMI 2024. modifying 、translating 、sharing my works on other platforms 、or considering them as yours is strictly prohibited.

[tvshowscouples]

If you love Mouth&Millie (OTH) and you want reblog or like,this is the link of my reblog couples :)

thank you!

[haologram]

stairway to the stars ☆ l.jh [m]

⤷ part of 'a very seventeen christmas' secret santa event! synopsis: your husband has always been supportive of your dreams - from the sidelines. he stays to himself, he keeps his mouth shut. it's you that can't stop running yours when your co-star is all over him. genre: established relationship au, tiny bit of angst, fluff, smut? pairing: husband!lee jihoon x actress!fem!reader word count: 1.5k...it pained me to stop it here. rating: 18+. minors do not interact. warnings: mentions of jealousy, ideation of infidelity, general relationship dynamics. clit play, kissing, in the backseat...you know the vibes. what to listen to: stargirl interlude - the weeknd, lana del rey ; never lose me - flo milli ; the boy is mine - monica, brandy. author's note: hi baby @monamipencil ♡ i hope you enjoy my little segment for you! i did 1000% pull this out of thin air but please let me know if there is ever anything else i can write for you. much love from your secret santa. ♡

"Don't forget about me, sweetheart." It was one of the few phrases your husband burned in your brain when your career really started taking off. He'd only been your boyfriend then, trying his hardest to prove himself worthy of your affections and time. You promised you wouldn't, over shared bottles of heady Cabernet and stolen kisses. The following years proved most difficult – from fighting over not spending enough time together because of your jobs, to vacationing for months on end without repercussions – you were rising to the top way too fast for him to wrap his head around it.

But never once did his love, loyalty, or respect for you falter. He watched quietly from the sidelines, silently supportive of all your endeavors. He'd grimace inwardly a bit if your lipstick stained anyone else's lips on the big screen, he'd clear his throat one too many times if you shed any tears during a scene. He held your waist at events, a silent reminder that your ascend up the stairway to the stars was in good company.

When you finally got a bit of time for yourself, he made it his priority to become someone more permanent in your life. With eyes that never strayed and a heart that only beat for you, he proposed softly as the two of you took a midnight stroll for the first time in a long time. He apologized for not making it something grand, promising your wedding would be to die for and he'd pull every string possible to give you the honeymoon of your dreams – only for you to stop his rambling with a teary kiss to his lips. Telling your friends the news of the proposal was an exciting feat, until it fell on the ears of multiple of your co-stars. You hadn't ever even spoken of a boyfriend (you had, they just didn't remember), and a few of the men you'd worked with questioned the validity of your engagement, of your relationship – and it eventually got back to Jihoon. Whispers of the startup CEO dating an actress filled his office, side-eyed glances made him uneasy in his own skin and he hated it – he hated that people wouldn't mind their own business.

Needless to say, it pissed him off. He'd never been openly possessive, but a part of him knew that neither of you had an issue understanding where you stood in each other's lives. From dating, to girlfriend, to wife – you'd always been open about who Jihoon was to you and what his presence meant. You never shied away from answering his questions if any, and you proudly presented him as your significant other if he managed to attend any of your events. This alone was enough for the two of you to realize that people in your industry didn't take relationships too seriously, and enough for you to hard-launch your relationship by posting your wedding photos on social media.

The industry did not like that, but you didn't care. You and your agent continued to book role after role, your husband continuing to grow his business and make a name for himself in the world of music production…a stepping stone for him, and the first moment of blood-boiling jealousy you'd ever experienced at the side of Lee Jihoon.

Her hand was on his shoulder as they spoke music, and he swiftly moved out of her grasp, sure. The dance floor was full of couples, a dance floor you'd intended to whisk him onto after reapplying your lipstick in the washroom. Someone Like You by Van Morrison played as you stood a few feet away, your face contorted in a fit of envy as you saw your husband push her hand away, the words I'm married, please don't touch me falling from his lips. The woman grimaced – the same woman you'd starred alongside for three seasons of the very same show you were all celebrating a renewal for tonight – and she shrugged her shoulders, before the dreaded words fell from her own red lips.

"So? She doesn't have to know."

Jihoon looked taken aback, and it was almost like he was a moth drawn to a flame – his eyes landed on you, and the way your jaw was tight with anger as you made your way over.

"Soyoung, nice to see you. Did you lose something here, dearest?" You speak softly, staring at your co-star with eyes of fire. She gave you a sleazy smirk, shaking her head. "Not at all, Y/N. Enjoying the party?" "It's lovely, isn't it? Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm feeling a bit under the weather." You gave her a tight smile, your hand wrapping around Jihoon's wrist watch as you pulled him away. He'd never seen you in such a state, eager to get him out of the venue and into the backseat of the black car waiting for you. Your arms were crossed as you sat facing away from him, before he made eye contact with the driver. He raised his brow, and the driver nodded, swiftly raising the partition as Jihoon turned to face you.

"Something bothering you, sweetheart?" He saw the way your shoulders tensed under the wine red straps of your dress, your legs crossed at the knee baring the skin of your thigh under the slit of the skirt. You gave him a glance through the corner of your eye, your lip jutted out in a pout as he cooed at you, making you huff in embarrassment.

"I don't like her." You mutter, "I don't like what she said and I don't like how she was all over you. She's literally my co-star. She knows we're married." "As much as I like your little pout and think you're adorable, I don't like that you're upset. You know I'd never wrong you, especially not like that." He tilts his head at you, making you pinch the bridge of your nose. "I know, Ji. I know." He's not satisfied with your answer, his hand reaching over to graze your knee, biting back his smile at the way your shoulders lose their tension at his touch. Your jaw remains tight, shaking your head in disbelief. "We've been co-stars for three years. You'd think she'd have some fucking respect for me." You were always so calm and collected, never too outwardly expressive of your disdain for people or their actions. He feels almost guilty for the growing tightness in his pants as you click your tongue, facing him as his fingers trace circles into your skin. "You're literally my husband. That's how I introduced you. My husband, Jihoon. Not Lee Jihoon, not the CEO of Ruby Productions, my husband. She's so shameless, I almost pity her." You tongue your cheek with a humorless laugh, and he can't help but feel his cheeks heat at the visual. He's silent as you run a hand through your hair, your earrings swinging as you shake your head again, giving him a pitiful smile.

"I'm sorry, I know this is out of character." You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. He nods, shifting slightly as your hand splays across his thigh. You press a kiss to his cheek, stamping your lipstick on his pale skin when you notice the flush on his cheeks. He clears his throat as you stare at him, a look of disbelief glossing over your eyes as you gape at him.

"You liked it?" "In my defense, you're hot when you're mad." He scoffs embarrassedly, making you huff out a laugh. "Jihoon." "I'm sorry." He presses a kiss to your temple as you roll your eyes. "Are you?" "No." He smiles against your skin, and you feel your cheeks heat as he trails his lips down your neck. "I love you, sweetheart. Just you." "I know, Ji." You sigh, feeling a bit of heat pool in your lower belly as he nips at your shoulder with a hum. "I don't think you do. Maybe I should remind you." Your cheeks grow hot as he gently pulls your thigh over his, his teeth nipping at the shell of your ear as he snaps the waistband of your underwear against your hip. "Now you know how I feel. Everyone always has their hands all over you, like you're not spoken for." You shudder as he slips his fingers under the cotton fabric, smirking against your skin as your hand wraps around his watch. You bite down on your lip as his finger traces your clit, your nails barely digging into his wrist. "Ji, not here." Your body betrays your words, your grip on his wrist loosening as he pulls your thigh higher on his lap. "Why? Aren't you mine?" His voice is sultry as you shiver against him, slim fingers collecting your arousal while he nips at your ear.

"Yes, but-" "Oh, there's a but?" He slides a finger inside you easily, your words getting caught in your throat as you whimper. "Hoonie…" "Tell you what, pretty." He slips his hand out as the car slows to stop, the front of the hotel you're staying at coming into view. "We're going to go upstairs and you're gonna take this dress off for me, and I'll show you who the brightest star in my sky is. Go."

You nearly stumble as your husband walks out behind you, his arm wrapping around your waist as he bids the driver goodbye. You feel his teeth on your shoulder, his voice low as he speaks into your ear.

“And keep those heels on for me."

haologram © 2024 || no translations, reposting or modifications are allowed. do not claim as your own. viewer discretion is advised. your media consumption is your responsibility.

[sluts4matt]

okay, i feel like this could be crazy? please take this any direction you want. like reader is at a party (like tara’s party) and her and chris get in a fight over a photo that was posted during the party. this has been on the mind, and im just not the correct person to execute this idea. but please take this any direction and change anything, please and thank you! i love your work please keep posting 🫶🏻

JEALOUS

pairing: rough!dom chris x sub!reader

summary: a picture of you a little to close to another guy at tara's 1 milli party is posted on the internet. chris does NOT like that at all and has to teach you a lesson.

warnings: SMUT, rough sex, spanking, degradation, daddy kink, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, light bondage, blindfolding, choking, orgasm denial, pet names, slight dumbification (because i love it so much ), light fluff at the end

word count: 1652

author's note: i really hope i did your request justice @lovelysturniolos i HAD to feed into everyone saying chris and tara would look cute, i'm sorry, sue me. kind, constructive criticism welcome.

"what the fuck is this?" your boyfriend, chris, asks holding his phone to you. his tone wasn't an amused one which was very unlike him. "what?" you mumble, furrowing your eyebrows as you bring yourself closer to his phone.

the two of you had the house to yourself for the evening, and currently sat on the couch in the living room. you looked at the picture, you were wearing your sparkly black dress, the fabric hugging you just right.

you hand was placed on some guys arm. why? you were absolutely hammered and ended up trying to make chris jealous out of your own jealousy. he had been close to tara almost all night, and while his attention was on you, part of you seemed to think he'd rather pay it to her.

you and chris had ended up losing each other within two hours of being there. but when you found him, and he was talking to tara with tha big ass grin of his. the one he always gives you. you couldn't stand it.your hand immediately found the guy nearest you, batting your eyelashes at him while you giggled at the jokes he told.

all in hopes that chris would look over and see, but he never did.

guess a picture was taken though, so you'd still technically be getting what you want. "who the fuck is that guy? huh?" chris demands. "honestly chris? couldn't tell you," you shrug. "but it was someone who was nice to me while my boyfriend was off with another chick," you mumble the last bit, but chris catches it.

the dry chuckle that leaves his mouth sends shivers down your spine, and the way he was staring at you made your stomach feel tight. "i don't give a fuck about tara," he says.

"really? coulda fooled me," you retort. chris' jaw clenched, and he stood up from the couch, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you off the couch.

"where are we going?" you ask as you try to keep up with his large strides. "i'm gonna fuck some sense into you," he states. "and then, we're going to have a little chat about who the fuck you belong to," he tells you, opening the door to his (your shared) bedroom and shoving you inside.

"chris-" "strip," he says, cutting you off. his voice was stern, and left no room for arguments. he walked over to the closet, grabbing the silk ties and blindfolds that sat in a box on the top shelf. you stripped your clothes, watching chris as he got into the box.

"hands behind your back," he commands, walking over to you. "chris-" "shut the fuck up," he snaps. "unless you're gonna say the safeword, please, shut the fuck up," he repeats. you nod your head.

he places the tie over your eyes, and brings your hands behind your back, tying them together. "get on the bed," he tells you, smacking your ass as you walk towards the bed.

you climb onto the bed, sitting in the middle of the mattress. "chris, i-" you're cut off by chris' hand covering your mouth. "if you're gonna be using that mouth, it's gonna be for something useful ma," he tells you. "so, either stop talking, or put that fucking mouth to work," he says.

you nod your head, and chris removes his hand from your mouth. "yes daddy," you mumble. "what was that baby?" he asks, knowing he heard you. "yes daddy," you speak up, earning a satisfied hum from chris.

"that's more like it," he says, taking his shirt off, and kicking his sweats and boxers off. he grabs a pillow from the head of the bed, and puts it under your knees.

"open your mouth," he tells you. and you obey, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. chris grabs the base of his cock and guides it into your mouth.

you swirl your tongue around the tip, kitty licking it. chris grabs the back of your head, and pushes himself into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. "fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good ma," he says, moving his hips and thrusting into your mouth.

he pulls himself out, and smacks your face with his cock a few times. he rubs his tip along your lips, smearing pre-cum all over them. "such a pretty fucking face," he muses, shoving his cock back into your mouth.

he groans as you take him back in, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him off. "fucking choke on it baby," he groans, pushing your head further down until his cock hit the back of your throat, over and over again.

you gag on his dick, tears beginning to leak from your eyes, dampening the fabric of the blindfold. saliva dripped down the corners of your mouth.

"fuck, i'm close," he moans. you move your head faster, bobbing your head, gagging and choking on his cock. "shit baby, that's it. gonna cum down that pretty fucking throat," he moans.

he pushes your head down again, and holds you there, letting his cum paint the inside of your throat. "fuck, fuck," he breathes, his chest heaving. he wraps your head in a makeshift ponytail around his hand tugging your head back.

he admires the way the black blindfold contrasts against your tan skin, "so pretty baby, too bad you thought you had to make me jealous to get my fucking attention." he says.

he takes his cock from your mouth and wipes the remaining saliva and cum off on your cheek. "now, i'm gonna fuck some sense into you, and after that, we're gonna talk about why it is you're my fucking girl," he says, pulling you up and positioning you how he wants.

his favorite position had your ass up in the air and your cheek pressed against the mattress. he rubbed your right ass cheek before raising his hand and landing a hard smack down on it. the sound echoed in the room, and the stinging sensation had you moaning because of the pain and pleasure.

"this ass, mine," he says, landing a few more harsh slaps down. "this pussy, mine," he continues, sliding his cock between your folds and pressing the tip at your entrance. "mhm, fuck," you gasp, as chris pushes himself into your cunt.

his right hand finds its way in-between your shoulder blades, shoving you down further as his left hand has a steady grip on your hip. his hips smack against your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room, accompanied by his groans and grunts and your loud moans. "i wanna hear how good my cock is," chris tells you.

"fuck daddy, so big. feels so fucking good," you moan, gripping the silk fabric tied around your wrists. "so fucking tight, ma," he says, his right hand sliding down to grab the fabric tied around your wrists.

he tugs your body back, forcing himself deeper into your cunt, causing your breath to catch in your throat. his hips move a million miles an hour, chasing his release, choked whines left your mouth that had you gasping for air, drool running down your chin.

"so fucking pathetic, look at ya," he chuckles, watching as you come undone underneath him. "such a whiny bitch, can't even speak." he tugs on the tie again, pulling you up. his left hand slides up to wrap around your neck, squeezing lightly.

"gonna cum daddy," you babble, your high approaching. "no you're not," chris says, denying you of your orgasm. he pushes you back down, pounding into you with no mercy, "chris," you whine. "wanna act like a slut to get my attention, gonna get treated and used like one."

"fuck daddy," you whine, the knot in the pit of your stomach becoming tighter. "chris, please, need to cum," you beg. he moves his left hand up to grip the hair at the base of your skull, "don't you fucking dare," he threatens.

"gotta earn it baby," he tells you. "how do you earn daddy's permission?" he asks.

"please," you moan, unable to think of anything else to say. "not what i'm looking for," he says, bringing his hand down on your ass, leaving a red handprint on your skin. "fuck," you hiss. "daddy," you cry. "please, please, fuck," you beg.

"that's more like it," he grunts. he leans over your body, his left hand reaching up to hold the headboard while his right stays in the same place.

"go on then, cum on my cock," he whispers, biting down on your earlobe, tugging on it. his words send you over the edge, and you come undone underneath him. your pussy spasms around his cock, squeezing and clenching, milking his orgasm from him.

he fills your cunt up, coating your walls white. his thrusts become slower, and the grip he has on your body is softer, until he stops altogether, and pulls out of you.

"good girl," he praises, running his thumb along your entrance, catching the mixture of both of your orgasms and bringing it to his mouth. he sucks the digit clean, humming at the taste.

he lays down next to you, pulling you into him, "now, who do i belong too?" he asks, holding you close. "me," you answer. "mm, and who do you belong too?" he asks, kissing your head. "you," you reply, leaning up to kiss him.

"good girl," he hums, placing a kiss on your nose. "want me to doordash panda express princess?" he asks, nuzzling his face into the conjunction of your jaw and neck. he peppered small kisses making you giggle. "nap first," you tell him.

he nods his head, grabbing the blanket and draping it over the both of you. he presses a final kiss to your temple, whispering, "i love you baby," before the two of you drift off.

tag list:

@sturnioloa @junnniiieee07

[bradshawsweetheart]

And what if I cry right now!!

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐰𝐛𝐨𝐲

A piercing cry slices through the dark--your eyelids are too heavy to wrench open, especially when you’re cocooned under the heavy duvet like you are right now. 

From behind you, molded against your body like he always is when you sleep, Jake’s muscles tense. Rigidly, he sighs into the warm curve of your throat and blinks through the dark. And, yes, there on the baby monitor is your six-month-old baby boy in his silly-looking sleep sack. He’s about to wail, Jake can tell. His little bottom lip’s wobbling and his eyes are shut tight and even though Jake can’t see his hands, he knows his fists are clenched.

“Your son is so dramatic,” you whisper, muffled from the pillow. 

“I thought we decided on theatrical,” Jake whispers back, his voice thin and worn. He peppers a few sloppy kisses to your throat and starts to sit up. “I’ve got ‘im.” 

“You’re my hero,” you mutter, yawning. 

He stretches and then swings his legs over the bed. 

“Kinda my thing,” he says as he stands.

“I love you so much,” you reply. Any other time, with more sleep, you would’ve scoffed at him and given him your best eye roll. But you’re too tired to feel anything but grateful for your husband right now. “Like, so much.” 

Jake laughs lightly, tiredly. 

“I know,” he says cockily, teasingly. 

You don’t respond, already drifting off to sleep again. You’re so tired that you can feel it in your bones--a deep, deep ache that is only exacerbated by frequent diaper changes and excessive feedings and tumultuous tummy times and gas and formula and binkies and board books and burp cloths and baths. 

And even though the baby is definitely about to start screaming, Jake can’t help but pause for a moment in repose as he stands in the doorway in his slouchy sweatpants. You’re sprawled across the bed already--you always say it’s to keep his spot warm but he knows that it’s because you’d sleep in star-formation if you had the choice--and breathing deeply. Your hair is a mess on the pillow and your cheek is smushed. Anyone with eyes can see that you’re exhausted from parenting a very particular, theatrical Seresin baby boy.  

He wants to cross the room again and tuck your hair back from your forehead. He wants to kiss your aching temples and your heavy eyelids. He wants to pull you in his arms, gather all those limbs, and hold you close. 

But he doesn’t want to wake you up.

So, he just smiles gently. 

“I love you so much,” he responds finally. “So, so, so stupid much.” 

And then he’s padding down the hallway, yawning again, but with a smile tugging on his lips. He can hear his son’s whimpers from outside the door and honestly, he’s shocked the screaming hasn’t started yet. 

The sound of artificial rain floods Jake’s ears when he comes into the room, the little sound machine in the corner lulling your son to sleep each day and night. He doesn’t bother turning it off or turning the light on--Jake’s fairly certain he’s adapted to the dark by now anyway. 

There in his crib, the one Jake had to finally ask Javy to help build, is a wriggling and fussy baby boy. His gummy mouth on display as he thrashes his head back and forth and his cheeks ruddy from upset. 

Jake’s heart swells as he strokes his cheek. Sometimes he still can't believe that this sweet little creature--the one with your eyes and his nose and your cheeks and his chin--is all his and all yours. You made him, every bit of him, and he is the most precious thing to ever grace this earth. Jake's sure of it.

“Hey there, cowboy,” he says softly. His son doesn’t let up yet, kicking his legs as Jake unzips the sleep sack. “S’alright, darlin’, daddy’s here.” 

All the tired floods his body and slips out under the door when Jake’s not looking. He holds his son against his bare chest, his body still so small and so soft. But then Jake is kissing the feathery hair on his head and bouncing lightly in his spot, heels digging into the rug. 

“What’s got you so upset?” Jake whispers, lips pressed against his son’s forehead. “Bad dream, baby?” 

Your son doesn’t respond. He just burrows into his fathers neck, his breaths stuttering and his mouth open and drooling. Jake pats his back a few times, kissing his cheek. He inhales his sweet, sweet scent and sighs.  

He loves the way your son smells--he just smells warm. He isn’t sure if it’s the body wash or the lotion or the sheets that does it. But he somehow just always smells good, like home, like you. 

“Let’s take a seat, huh? A little rock and roll never hurt nobody, huh?” He asks quietly as he sits in the rocking chair. 

If you were awake to hear his pun, you would’ve never let him hear the end of it. Jake makes a mental note to tell it to you over breakfast. 

Your son’s whimpers are fading fast, especially when Jake starts to softly rock him, tucking his chin on his head and patting his back softly. 

“Mama thinks you’re theatrical,” he tells your son, eyes fluttering shut. “And you definitely are. Mama also thinks you get it from me--and you absolutely do. Apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, cowboy. You gonna be a little actor? Or a little lawyer?” 

Your son babbles quietly, fingers tangled in Jake’s hair as a form of self-soothing. Jake kisses his face a few more times. 

“Or you could just stay here with me and mama forever,” he whispers. 

And he knows that having a son has made him soft--like crying at that one Honda commercial kind of soft--because his eyes grow wet when he thinks of your son getting any bigger than he is now. He never wants a day to come where he can’t pull his son to his chest, sit down in the rocking chair, and make the tears stop. 

"I love you," he whispers. "Me and mama love you so, so much. More love than can fit in this whole world."

When you pad down the hallway, eyes full of sand and sleep from your very few hours slumbering, you don’t even have to touch the walls anymore to orient yourself. You know where you’re going even in the pitch-black hallway. 

Jake’s sleeping when you come into the nursery, the sound machine quiet in the corner of the room. Your son is still in his arms, sleeping against his chest. And God do they look alike right now in the light of the moon--both of them sleeping with their heads resting on each other’s, their mouths open, their fists clenched. 

You came in here to bring Jake back to the bedroom. But watching him hold your son, your sweet boy, in that rocking chair that he built in this room he put together--you decide that a few more hours of comfortable sleep isn’t worth it. Tempurpedic mattress be damned. 

So, you just carefully cross the floor. The rug is soft beneath your bare feet when you lean forward and stroke your son’s head, careful to have a soft touch that will not wake him. And then you’re kissing Jake’s warm cheeks, stroking his blonde locks, too. 

Jake stirs slightly, eyes twitching. Your heart swells. 

You sink onto the floor before the rocking chair, leaning against Jake’s legs. The rain is lulling you already and you yawn as you rest your cheek on his thighs. The rug is comfortable--you’re glad you went for this one. Your son is happy and sleeping and your husband is holding him and everything is right in the world. 

And just as you’re about to fall asleep again, Jake’s thighs cushioning you, Jake’s hand falls into your hair. He strokes a few times in welcome--hi, baby. 

 “Missed you,” you mutter. 

“Missed you,” he returns. His hand glides through your hair. “All’s right in the world now, huh?” 

“Yeah,” you whisper. “It is.”

happy Father's Day to those who celebrate <3

[woso-dreamzzz]

Jessie's Girl III

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Jessie Fleming x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first Jessie nap

You yawn as Magda unstraps you from the car, curling into her warmth against the frigid winter air.

It's early in the morning, much too early for you to be awake, you think. It's early and cold and you're not wearing much but your pjs and a coat to keep you protected from the weather.

You're not even wearing proper shoes, just little slippers that make it look like sharks are eating your feet.

You did not enjoy your early morning wakeup call today, having been exhausted last night after a long day of playing.

You clutch girl-swan and girl-moose as you rest your head on Magda's shoulder while Pernille grabs all the bags out of the back of the car.

You're going to an away game today, up in Liverpool so it was either travelling up there last night or going super early in the morning.

Clearly, the staff had chosen super early in the morning.

It wasn't the best idea, trying to fit that into your schedule but Pernille had purposely tired you out last night so you would sleep the four hour long trip up north.

But, still, getting you up this morning was a nightmare and your steadfast refusal to get dressed this morning meant packing an extra bag of all the clothes you needed to change into when you got there.

"Hey," Pernille says, jostling the hand that's clinging to Magda's shirt collar," You can't fall asleep yet, princesse. Let's get on the bus first."

"Hmm," You say," Nein, Momma."

It's not uncommon for you to slip into one of your other languages when you're tired and neither Pernille nor Magda have to heart to lecture you about it right now.

Magda makes sure to put a little more bounce in her step as she gets to the bus, stepping on and hoping that it's enough to keep you awake.

"Someone not willing to wake up?" Millie laughs when she sees the pyjamas you're still wearing and the massive bedhead you still haven't had brushed out.

"It was definitely a fight this morning," Magda admits, slipping into her seat and forcing you out of your hiding space in her neck," But we're ready to stay awake now, aren't we?"

"Nej."

Magda sighs. "Not even for a little bit?"

"Night-Night."

Pernille swoops in before you can close your eyes though, putting your sippy cup to your mouth and making you take a long drink before she pulls out your favourite goldfish crackers for you to munch on.

"The little miss decided she didn't want to eat breakfast at home," Pernille says to Millie," So we've compromised."

Pernille makes you eat the whole pack and then have another drink from your sippy cup.

"Alright," She says finally, fishing blankie out of your bag and draping it around your shoulders," Do you still want to sleep now?"

She already knows the answer.

The bus will rock around like the car does and the car has always been her secret weapon to get you to sleep. When you were younger and fussy, all Pernille would have to do is pop you in the car and drive around for a bit until you were out like a light.

She knows the bus will have the same affect.

You push your tiny hand against her chest though as a yawn makes its way through your whole body.

"Not-Not with you," You say and Pernille smothers a smile.

"Alright. With Morsa then?"

Magda opens her arms up for you and you poke a tiny finger against her chest too.

"Not with Morsa."

"What? Why not with me?"

You stick your tongue out in answer before Pernille regains your attention.

"Who do you want to sleep with?"

You're still new to Not-Wolfsburg and you don't know everyone that well yet. You know Millie, kind of, because she's Morsa's friend but you don't think you want to nap with her even though she's big and strong and looks like she gives good hugs.

Your eyes scan through the seats as more and more people climb onto the bus. You rule them all out as they pass you so you're not quite sure who exactly you want.

Until Jessie gets on.

You like Jessie a lot. She's warm and cuddly and speaks English you can understand.

"Jessie!" You announce as she slips into the seat on the other side of the aisle to you.

She smiles at the call of her name, capturing your hand for a brief moment before she sits.

"You want to sleep with Jessie?" Pernille checks and your head bobs up and down furiously.

Jessie is the one you want to nap with.

"Alright then."

Pernille lifts you over the aisle into Jessie's arms.

"Wait...what?"

Jessie is sat in a four seater with a table, like how Momma and Morsa and Millie are sitting. Niamh is opposite her, stretched out across two seats, giggling to herself.

"Princesse would like to nap with you," Magda says," She's all ready for bed."

You point at your special slippers. "Sharks eatin' my feet, Jessie," You tell her before yawning again.

"Oh..er..."

"Stretch out, Jessie," Pernille advises," And just let her lay on you. I promise she doesn't moved around much in her sleep."

Jessie does as she's told and lets you find a comfortable position, turning onto your belly and pressing your head against the crook of your neck.

Your blanket's a little bunched up, she notices as the bus engine roars to life and the driver pulls it onto the road.

Carefully, Jessie spreads it out, curving the edges around your body until you're sufficiently covered.

You shuffle a little bit, getting even more comfortable against your favourite Not-Wolfsburg player.

Across the aisle, only ten minutes later, Millie bites down a laugh.

"Looks like both kids are down for the count."