#open toe ankle strap heels

[jessica-xtreme-slut]

What kind of life would life be for you without fishnets on Friday🤔?

[thebagsyndicate01]

My favourite outfit and high heels for a woman to wear while they're bound and gagged

[jius-sims]

Chili Collection 03

[Jius] Open Toe Platform Pumps With Socks 01

25 swatches

15k+ Polygons

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[Jius] Open Toe Platform Pumps 01

25 swatches

13k+ Polygons

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[Jius] High Heeled Mules 01

32 swatches

7k+ Polygons

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[Jius] Square Toe Bowknot Sandals 01

20 swatches

25k+ Polygons

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[Jius] Ankle Strap Platform Pumps 01

30 swatches

8k+ Polygons

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[Jius] Leather Heeled Loafers 01

32 swatches

12k+ Polygons

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[Jius] Knitted Socks 08

30 swatches

1k+ Polygons

HQ✔️ Custom thumbnail✔️ All lods✔️

Patreon ( Early access )

❤️Public release on 30 March, 2023❤️

[ktsumu]

18+ NSFT MDNI. SHOWER ACTION.

You already know that Atsumu's in the shower before you hear him in it, nudging the front door shut behind you, heels falling off of your groaning feet. The first matchup of the pre-season has ensured that.

Muscle memory makes you step over the routine dufflebag he drops in the very middle of the entryway, shaking the strap off of your ankle when it catches. His sweater's on the back of the couch.

You'd take it down the hallway with you, but you follow the clothes like a roadmap instead. Toeing along, kicking his track pants out of the way with a scoff, rolling your eyes and wondering how he completely missed the hamper.

An athlete, he calls himself.

The shower turns your bedroom hot, steaming up the windows from the open ensuite door, the mirror dripping with water. You can feel the humidity ruining the hair you worked so hard to keep tidy this morning.

"Atsumu?" You sigh, tugging it loose and glancing at him through the mirror.

It's more so what you can see of him— the frosted glass of the shower punishes you mostly, keeps you to watching his blurry body turn, his head twist to your voice. You can see him turn to face the water again.

"Hey baby. How's work?"

"I'm gonna guess better than the game today?" You pick up his sweaty jersey with your foot, taking in the distinct yet familiar smell of sharp pines and locker room. "Judging by the state of our home."

Atsumu breathes out sheepishly, but it sounds like a grin. "I'll clean it all up, don't worry."

"I know you will."

"Yeah, for sure." He hesitates, humming when he rubs at the crook of his neck. "Maybe tomorrow morning? Swear."

You don't care when he cleans it up, really. Your eyes haven't left the shower.

Quietly, you start to undo your blouse, shrugging it off of your shoulders and peeling it off of your sticky skin. You toss it near Atsumu's abandoned shorts.

"Been in there a while?" you huff, blindly turning on the fan. "Hot as hell in here."

"Everything hurts," he groans. "Fuckin' hate coming off the off-season— not used to it."

You purse your lips. "Gonna stay in for a little while longer?"

It's quiet, aside from the shower running. His shadow moves, leans closer to the glass before standing upright again. His hands tease you over the top, combing through his hair.

"If someone wants to keep me company, can't really say no."

(He must sense your eyes rolling, because he chuckles and slips the door open a crack.)

You shimmy your tight skirt down your legs, stepping out of everything embarrassingly fast. Your cami ends up hanging off the sink and your pantyhose are in a ball, but Atsumu's waiting hand has you getting inside the shower as fast as you can manage.

Where he isn't drenched in water, he's painted by a thin sheen of heat, the steam of the shower dripping down his temple. His hand welcomes you first, guiding you closer so his lips can greet you next.

Atsumu rests a hand on the side of your face, droplets of water swarming down your chest like snakes. He kisses you sloppily, tongue trying at yours the second you let him, teeth grazing your lip when you pull away like he's begging you to stay.

"Sore, huh?"

His eyes travel down— over your chest, sternum, hips. His hands follow in the same order like a drill— tits, chest, beautiful, beautiful hips. "Forget I said anything 'bout that,"

"You should rest, really,"

"Stop teasin' me, it's just cruel," he frowns, "need you to give me a cure tonight,"

"Yeah? It's called eight hours of sleep and Voltaren."

He rolls his eyes, lidded with said sleep— the hand holding yours that pulls you closer and his half-hard cock between you say something entirely different.

Atsumu's hand gropes your ass, fingertips dinging into fat until you get impossibly closer, until he's basically against your stomach and you're basically just looking at his lips.

"You should—"

"Should," he emphasizes, murmured against your mouth as he kisses you again, chaste but lingering, "but this is what I'm actually gonna do."

"What?"

"You," he hums, tucking a strand of your half-wet hair behind your ear, blocking the water and hoarding you to himself. "Gonna be my cleanse."

You snort, fingers smoothing over his abs and down to the base of his cock, nails gently running over the dark trail of hair. "That right?"

"Mmmyeah," he says through a groan, yawning before he slots a hand in between your legs, trailing it up your inner thigh as you finally get him in your hand. It's the only place he's wanted to be all night, besides your bed. "Feel so fuckin' good, fuck,"

You sigh against his chest, tilting your head up to taste him again. Like spearmint, like the gum he must've chewed on the drive home just knowing you'd end up here.

"Shit, alright," he sighs, hips lazily rolling into your palm as you look up at him with eyes that make him wanna pass out.

"Gotta choose now— you wanna be on your knees first or do ya want 'em over my shoulders?"

You breathe out a laugh, sliding your hands over his slippery arms, over every muscled ridge as you lower yourself to the tile floor, kissing his hip when you get there. "Romantic, really."

Atsumu's body tilts your way, chasing your lips down, leaning into your touch as he brushes a thumb over your cheek. The kiss you place on his flushed tip is greatly appreciated— he lets you know it.

"Yeah, honey, I try," he breathes. He smiles so warmly down at you that it's almost like you're not about to suck him off. "Just wait until I get you to bed, yeah?"

"We both know you're falling asleep."

"Well, after we get outta here you will be, too."

"Mm, we'll see."

Atsumu barks a laugh, delicately running his hand up your nape before taking a stronger hold on the base of your hair.

"Oh, you're so on."

[blueicequeen19]

Hint

Warnings: unprotected car creampie, oral, face fucking, hate fucking with JJ, Kook mean girl

I roll my eyes as I cross the parking lot to my Mercedes. This Pogue could not take a fucking hint. His constant flirting was on my last nerve. Sure he was cute but he was a Pogue. I had guys lining up to fuck me. I could have any guy I wanted so why waste time on this loser?

“Stop following me.” I snap, hitting the unlock button on my key fob. Why did I park at the back of the damn parking lot?

“You’ve been drinking. At least let me drive you home. Or my home.” The smile in his voice is clear and I shake my head just as I stumble in my heels over another fucking piece of gravel.

“Fuck.” I stop, reaching down to kick off these monstrosities when he’s suddenly crouching in front of me, crowding my space as he lifts my foot and starts to unfasten the straps.

“Are you always this annoying?” I grumble, using one hand on his shoulder to balance myself. The hand on my ankle is hot against my skin as he finally works the strap free and gently sits my foot down.

“Usually.” He peeks up at my under his messy blonde hair, flashing a panty dropping smile as he switches to the other foot.

“At least you’re honest.”

“Not used to that?”

“You don’t know me at all so don’t assume anything.” God he gets under my skin so badly but he doesn’t seem phased as he chuckles before raising to his full height, towering over me and dangerously close.

“I know enough.” His voice is lower, seductive even as his playful blue eyes rake down my body and back up.

“You know what’s on the outside. You don’t know what’s on the inside.” I blurt in frustration, shoving his chest but he doesn’t even budge. His lips curl into a taunting smirk.

“I want to be inside you. Does that count?” My jaw drops in surprise. This Pogue was so bold. I scoff, attempting to shove past him but pain shoots up through my feet from the gravel. It’s so sudden that I barely comprehend him scooping me in his arms until we’re moving towards my car again.

“I didn’t need your help.” I grumble, my heels dangling from one hand as I wrap the other around his neck.

“A simple thank you would suffice.”

“Oh so you’re not going to use this as a way to gain a sexual favor?” I narrowed my eyes at him as a bright smile formed across his face, his boots crunching along the gravel.

“I won’t say no to a blow job.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“You can sit on my face if you don’t feel like standing.” A laugh burst from me and I quickly looked away, his smile practically blinding as we came up on my car.

“You can put me down now.” I muttered awkwardly as he pulled the drivers door open.

“Eager to get home?” He lowered me so that my toes rested on his boots, keeping me from hurting my feet. The move felt intimate with how tightly our bodies were pressed together and I struggled to maintain eye contact.

“Why do you care? This is never going to happen.” I snap, his eyes widening for a moment before he schools his features. Anger I could deal with. Anything soft was off the table.

“I’m not going to sleep with you. Not just because you’re a filthy Pogue but because you’re probably some vanilla pretty boy and that’s not my thing. You probably like sweet words and taking your time but I like to be fucked. So take the hint.” My heart races with my outburst, my cheeks red with anger but I can’t help the sudden panic from the look in his eyes. He looked pissed but also wanted to eat me alive. Like he wanted to give me exactly what I said I wanted.

“Take the hint, huh?” His voice is low in warning, raising the hair on my neck like I’m being stalked by a predator. Suddenly he jerks open my passenger door and shoves me in the back seat by the back of my neck.

“What the—.” The door shuts and he’s manhandling me onto my knees, yanking my dress up to bare myself to him.

“You want to be fucked? I’ll show you how we Pogues like to fuck.” I nearly moan at his words, my body already on board with whatever he has planned. His fingers cup my sex, teasing my folds over my thong before yanking it down my thighs.

“Don’t you dare.” I gasp, still hanging on to the need for this to be all his idea. He slaps my pussy, making me squeal in pain and surprise.

“Open up for me, princess.” He slaps my thighs wider apart, the flesh of his cock suddenly between my thighs and making my eyes bug out. He was fucking huge.

“So goddamn wet for a Kook Princess.” JJ taunts, rubbing his cock through my slit. Every pass over my clit made me shudder, begging to be filled. I open my mouth to do just that when he shoves his way inside, making me moan loudly as my head drops down on the leather seats.

“Shit. You better be quiet or one of your friends will find you getting fucked by a filthy Pogue.” JJ’s words are strained as his fingers bite into my hips and he starts to move. I can’t control the whimpers and mewls that leave me. He delivers on his promise, fucking me hard and fast. I don’t even have to demand more because he keeps up with everything my body wants without instruction.

“So hot and tight.” JJ groans, yanking me back into every hard thrust of his hips as the car rocks. His cock was so hard and deep. I could barely think or breathe until I hear a giggle in the distance. I try to jerk away but he shoves me back down, holding me in place. His pace lessens so the car doesn’t rock but he doesn’t stop fucking me as he looks around.

“Grab the door.”

“Who— is it? We have to stop.” My words come out on a whimper, my body wound so tight as I do as he says.

“Guess you’re not the only one getting fucked by a Pogue tonight.” JJ chuckles darkly, shoving me flat onto the seat and coming down on top of me. My hair is twisted in his fist as his lips find my neck. I try to listen to determine if I know the identity of the other couple but I can’t hear over the sound of JJ panting in my ear and his pelvis slamming against my ass.

“Here?” A girl hisses too close to my car for liking and I instantly recognize the voice as my two-faced Pogue hating best friend.

“Fuck, I love having you under me. Not so mouthy now, are ya?”

I hear a thump and JJ chuckles in my ear, rolling his hips so he hits that sweet spot deep inside me. I bite back a mewl, turning my head and slamming my mouth to his without even thinking. If I thought fucking him was insane then kissing was even worse. His tongue demands entrance into my mouth and I can’t stop the orgasm that barrels forward. His hand is over my mouth in the next moment, silencing me as he fucks me into the seat until I’m trembling for relief.

“What’s the matter? I thought you wanted to be fucked?” I fight the urge to roll my eyes at him as I reach back to dig my nails into his thigh, with shorts still around his legs.

“Who is she fucking?” I demand in a whisper, shaking his hand off my mouth.

“Doesn’t matter.”

A cry of pleasure echos outside the car and JJ’s pace picks up. I can tell by his breathing that he’s close. He’s already lasted a lot longer than I expected.

“J—.” His nickname is a plea on my lips, the sensitivity being too much. The leather against my nipples. His weight on top of mine. His husky breathing in my ear.

“I like the thought of you driving home with me inside you. Then every time you drive this car you’ll be reminded of this. How your mouth begged for relief but your body demanded more. I can feel how close you are.” His vulgar words had my inner walls clenching, my eyes squeezing shut as pleasure pulsed through me. My hips lift on their own, aching for him to reach deeper.

“I didn’t say you could cum inside me.” I growl, fighting off the orgasm that threatens to rip through me and give us away. JJ’s hand dips between my thighs to press on my clit and a choked sound leaves me as my body detonates.

“I didn’t ask.” He whispers as I cum hard, my body jerking beneath his as I bite my own arm to keep from screaming my release. A deep, sexy moan echos in my ear as he finishes inside me, fucking me slow and deep until we’re both spent and fighting to catch our breath. The windows have fogged and I can feel his sweat on my back. Minutes pass and I don’t hear the couple outside anymore so I motion for him to let me up.

“This isn’t ever happening again.” I declare, looking along the floorboard for my panties. I don’t find them and I level him with a glare as he relaxes back against the seat, his legs spread and cock still hard. I fight hard not to stare at the cum stains along his shaft.

“If you say so.” His eyes are dark as he watches me, a sexy smirk on his lips. Like someone who was awfully proud of their accomplishments. The after effects of bliss make it hard to cling to my anger, especially with him looking at me the way he is.

“Clean up your mess and I’ll go.”

“Excuse me?”

“I didn’t stutter.”

“I heard you. I was just giving you a chance to rethink what you just said.”

A beat of tense silence stretches between us, our eyes never wavering from each others even as his cum drips out of me and onto the leather seats.

“Here, I’ll show you.” JJ lunges, wrapping his hand in my hair and yanking me over his lap. His free hand holds his hard cock firmly as he presses my head down until the smooth tip meets my lips. I grit my teeth, refusing to open but the hand in my hair tightens painfully, nearly ripping the strands out so I reluctantly open, letting him hit the back of my throat. I gag loudly, attempting to pull back but he holds me firmly, a hand sliding between my legs to stroke my slick slit. I want to shake my head or tell him I can’t take anymore but he refuses to let me up as he fucks my throat.

“More tongue, less teeth. Relax your throat.” I’m tempted to bite down, wishing I could tell him I know how to give a damn blow job. It wouldn’t be so bad if he’d stop treating me like I don’t need to breathe. But goddamn the pulsing between my legs is almost agonizing. I feel on fire.

I move my tongue so it’s dragging up and down his shaft and I feel his body tighten as he hisses through his teeth.

“That’s it.” JJ groans, his fingers relaxing slightly in my hair as I start to move with him. The hand between my legs starts to move quicker against my clit, my legs shaking as I try to finish him before he finishes me. I hum around his shaft, tears blurring my eyes as every nerve ending starts to feel on fire.

“I’m cumming.” His head hits the seat as he holds my head down, shooting down my throat as my own body is thrown into oblivion. I can barely swallow as stars line my vision and my body shakes uncontrollably. The lack of oxygen didn’t help.

Finally, he releases the hold on my hair and I slide into the floorboard on my knees, makeup burning my eyes as I look up at him. My throat was raw and my pussy was on fire but I’d never felt more sated. JJ looked as satisfied as I felt as he slowly zipped his shorts back up and wiped sweat from his brow.

“I hate you.” My voice is hoarse and I desperately needed water. I also needed to know who my best friend was fucking right outside my car.

“But you love how I felt inside you.”

“You didn’t wear a condom.”

“Hopefully you’re on something.”

“Hopefully you don’t have something.”

JJ smirks as he leans forward on his knees, eyeing me like we didn’t just have amazing orgasms together.

“I guess next time I need to fuck you harder. Take care of all that attitude.” I narrow my eyes at him until his hand is suddenly around my throat and he’s pulling me into a sizzling kiss. I moan into his mouth, twisting my fingers in his hair as our tongues collide. I’d never been a fan of kissing but his mouth was otherworldly. I kiss him harder, feeling the slight stubble along his upper lip. I nearly whimper when he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting our lips.

“Next time I’m eating that tight fucking pussy until you cum all over my face. Then I’m going to tie you up and play with you until you make an absolute mess. After that I’m gonna lay back and watch as you use me to get yourself off. You’ll use me however you want me while I don’t lift a finger.” JJ kisses me again as my insides turned molten, a cocky smirk pulling at his lips.

“I’ll see you later, princess.”

Then the car door opens and is slammed in my face as I try to figure out what the fuck just happened.

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: SMUT, the forbidden quickie

Chapter Word Count: 3548

—-MDNI—-

A/N: ahhhhhhhh I finally wrote some spice! Sorry it took a while. This is a little tame I guess but we can work up to the extra lewd stuff

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 6

The following day rolled around quickly and before we knew it there was only an hour remaining until the auction house charity event. The disturbing events of yesterday were pushed to the back of my mind, the boys respecting my wishes on not wanting to talk about it. Sam told us over breakfast that he’d managed to access the auction house database and add our names to the guest list for the party, making it easy for us to attend without getting caught out as uninvited visitors. Now back in my room, I was rummaging through my duffel and pulling out my evening attire: a long black dress made of soft satin that had a slit up to the hip on one side. The neckline was a deep v-plunge and the dress was entirely backless.

“I guess no bra for me tonight then,” I mumbled to myself, also pulling out a clean pair of black lace panties and a pair of closed toe, VERY high black satin heels that had a neat little buckle on the ankle strap. I was already showered and my makeup was already done so I dropped my towel and slipped into the dress, pulling the thin straps over my shoulders. I followed by pulling on my panties, stretching the lace over my hips so it wasn’t visible through the slit in the dress. If you didn’t know any better, it would look like I wasn’t wearing anything at all. I sat on the edge of the bed and put on the heels, securing them in place before standing up and doing a few practice laps of the room - wearing shoes this high was not a common occurrence for me. I finished up by dusting my skin with the same perfume I wore yesterday, breathing in the pleasant smell before tucking the bottle along with my rouge lipstick into my little black clutch. I fussed over myself in the mirror for a few minutes when I heard a knock at the door. Pacing over I flung it open to greet the Winchester boys, and when I did I couldn’t help but do a double take over the oldest brother. I hated to admit it but he looked good. REALLY good. He was dressed head to toe in black: a slim fitted suit, shirt and tie, all of which seemed to flick something on in my brain. His suit jacket hung open and beneath it the shirt was clinging to his well defined torso, the top two buttons straining a little.

“You scrub up well, Dean,” I said to him, trying to sound pleasantly surprised. Instead, I think I sounded incredibly flirtatious. Dean didn’t seem to notice though as I watched his jaw slacken and his eyes flit over my body.

“Uhhh-um yeah, thanks,” he said, clearing his throat a little as he stepped aside to let me out.

“You look great, (Y/n),” Sam said, making such intense eye contact with me like he didn’t know where else to look, his cheeks glowing a little.

“Thanks Sam,” I smiled up at him before locking the motel room door and trying to ignore the fact that Dean didn’t say anything. Back to being an ass I see.

“So (Y/n), you’re with Dean. It should be pretty simple: get in, get the hair pain, get out. With that many people at the event, we don’t want to risk anyone getting hurt so I'll be ready and waiting outside with everything we need to destroy it and put the ghost to rest,” Sam briefed us before carrying on, “I’ll head back to our room to get everything and I’ll meet you there - you guys get going,” he nodded his head to Deans car which was parked out front. Dean said a quick farewell and headed out and I did the same, giving Sam a wave as he turned to leave.

I climbed into the front of the Impala, running my hands over the plush leather seat.

“You really do have great taste in cars Dean,” I said, looking around at the immaculate interior. He hummed in agreement, putting his arm over the back of my seat as he reversed out of the parking spot. Those top two buttons on his shirt were not going to last all night. I crossed my legs, getting comfortable for the short journey into town - the satin of my dress falling open and completely exposing my thigh to Dean. I watched him take his eyes off the road and fixate on my bare skin, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. Returning his eyes to the road I saw his chest rise as he took a deep breath, a small but deep groan emitting from his chest.

“You ok?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“I’m fine,” he rasped.

“Ok… you’re acting strange though,” I said, leaning on the passenger side door to watch the street lamps turn on.

“Can you blame me?”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

There was a few seconds of silence before he flicked on his cassette player and classic rock filled the car, bringing a smile to my ruby lips.

“Good taste in music too? I’ll be damned, you’ve got more of a personality than I thought.”

He scoffed a little before smirking, “there’s more to me than meets the eye sweetheart.” He looked over at me, green eyes piercing into mine with such intensity I suddenly felt a little warm. I looked away, quickly counting my lucky stars when I noticed we’d arrived.

Dean parked up and I reached for the door, however Dean stopped me from opening it.

“Wait,” his tone was authoritative as he reached a hand out to stop me, his rough fingers lightly grazing the soft skin of my thigh. Before I could even respond, he’d hopped out, slamming his door shut before striding around the front of the car to open mine for me. He held his hand out, which I grasped delicately and he pulled me to my feet.

“What was that for?” I asked, puzzled as he closed the passenger side door behind me.

“Just trying to keep up appearances for this shit-show,” he stated bluntly before he walked off ahead of me towards the front door whilst he left me to navigate the uneven cobbles in these death-trap shoes.

“Jerk,” I muttered under my breath, but he must’ve heard me because he turned around, sighed and held out his arm for me to take.

“Just ask if you need help,” he leaned in and said quietly, his face close enough that I could feel his breath on my skin. I sucked in a breath, which was a mistake as he smelt positively divine. He was filling my senses and I didn’t want him to.

We made it into the building with no trouble at all thanks to Sam’s hard work. The inside of the auction house was a grand spectacle indeed; with high ceilings, a chandelier made up of thousands of tiny pieces of crystal and two symmetrical mahogany staircases at the end of the entrance hall. It was busy, lots of people in expensive attire milling about and drinking equally expensive sparkly wine.

“Shall we get some champagne?” I turned and asked Dean, who chuckled slightly.

“You’re already more fun than Sam,” he said before whisking two flute glasses off a passing waiter and handing me one. We chinked glasses, laughing a little at how awkward all of this pomp and ceremony was for us before we both downed the expensive alcohol like shots. Dean winced slightly, handing his now empty flute back to the same waiter who gave him a concerned look.

“Aw damn, those bubbles - that shits wrong.”

“That’s because you’re supposed to sip it,” I laughed at him, placing my empty glass on an old polished oak sideboard.

“Then why did you neck it too if you knew?” He asked, furrowing his eyebrows at me. I shrugged.

“To be honest I don’t know - I guess I wanted to lighten the old-money mood in here.” He nodded, seeming to understand where I was coming from. After that fiasco we made our way towards the immense curved staircases at the end of the room, Deans hand occasionally touching my exposed back as he guided me in front of him, making me shiver involuntarily. We ascended, making our way up and past people who were at the top of the stairs, idly chatting and leaning on the bannister - not paying us any mind as we turned down a quiet corridor. We walked quietly, the hum of chatting remaining behind us as we made our way down the dim corridor, looking out for the room number Sam had given us.

“Room 19, room 19, room 19…” I chanted to myself searching every door until we found the right one. Coming to a stop, Dean quickly knelt down and pulled a lockpick from his pocket. I watched in fascination as he inserted the device, ever so gently manoeuvring it with a look of pure concentration on his face. I couldn’t stop myself from looking over at him whilst he was unaware; looking at those focused and hooded dark green eyes, slightly parted lips that he wet with his tongue and large muscled shoulders that were almost as wide as the doorway. I didn’t want to admit it, but God damn he was attractive. There was a click and he stood up quickly, pocketing the lockpick and opening the door, hurrying me inside. I walked gingerly into the room which looked like a mixture between a study and a museum. There were large bookcases spanning the walls, sideboards boasting an array of intriguing items, all contained in secure glass cabinets, and finally a large leather-topped mahogany desk in the centre of the room. This place smelt old.

I heard Dean close the door behind him as he paced in after me, immediately scanning the room.

“Right,” he said, his tone stern and authoritative, “you take that side and I’ll take this side.” I nodded, immediately scouring every surface for our haunted item.

We must’ve been looking for around ten minutes when Dean called me over.

“Do you think that’s it?” He almost whispered, pointing to an item that I would definitely have described as a jade hairpin.

“Yup,” I whispered back, leaning slightly closer to him so I could get a better look. I felt him draw a sharp breath in before sighing slightly. “Can you pick this lock?” I asked, ignoring his antics and sticking to the business at hand.

“Yeah give me a second and I’ll get it open,” he stepped in front of me. Not wanting to get in his way, I walked into the centre of the room to where the desk was and leant against it, looking around at all of the bizarre items. Surely there are some other haunted things in here other than what we came for. My eyes eventually landed on an old gramophone.

“Oh that bitch is definitely haunted,” I mumbled to myself right as I heard Dean pop the lock on the glass cabinet. I watched as he wrapped the hairpin in a square of fabric before shoving it into his pocket and clicking the cabinet closed.

“Mission complete,” he said, a slight grin on his lips as he walked to stand in front of me. That grin fell from his face though when suddenly there were voices outside the door and keys rattling in the lock. We hadn’t planned for this. He looked at me in a panic.

“Kiss me,” I blurted.

“What?”

“I have a plan: Dean just fucking kiss m-” it was like I didn’t have to tell him twice before he had a hand in my hair and his lips were on mine. My heart started pounding and his mouth was hot against my cool skin. I hummed, sliding my fingers up his chest to grip the lapels on his jacket, pulling him further in towards me. Before I could get sucked into whatever it was that I was feeling, the study door flew open and two older gentlemen in brown tweed suits walked in, stopping in their tracks at the sight of us.

“Good heavens! What are you doing in here?” One of them exclaimed. Dean turned his head to look at the men, a smirk on his face and I couldn’t help but blush furiously at the sight of my lipstick that was now smeared on the corner of his lips.

“So sorry gentlemen, the door was unlocked so we just let ourselves in. I hope you don’t mind…” I watched, my eyes widening a little as he lifted his jacket slightly, showing the gun that was tucked into his belt. The men’s eyes also widened and they backed up towards the door.

“Yes, yes! Of course you did! Please, take your time. Just…” the man paused, his eyes darting to the precious items on his desk, “please try not to make a mess - it’s all I ask.” And with that they both left as quickly as they arrived, closing the door behind them. I let out a sigh of relief, looking up at Dean.

“Thank fuck… Dean I’m so sor-” I didn’t have a chance to think as Deans mouth was back on mine; rough and needy. I sat in shock for a second before being pulled back to reality when Dean held the side of my face, his fingers sliding up to tangle with my hair. I couldn’t stop myself from kissing him back, my mind racing and going blank simultaneously. His free hand ghosted up my exposed leg, touching so gently I could barely feel him. He soon decided though that gentle wasn’t working for him, and he gripped my thigh, his fingers digging into my soft flesh and making me gasp - his hands on my body were already working their magic as I couldn’t stop his name from leaving my lips.

“Dean…” I moaned. I can’t believe it - I had actually moaned his fucking name. He groaned into my mouth, obviously liking the sound of his name rolling off my tongue. Tearing his hand from my hair and gripping my other thigh, without warning and with rushed movements, he lifted me with ease so I was sat atop the desk.

“Wrap your legs around me darlin,” he said with a deep lustful tone against my lips. I whimpered involuntarily as I did as he said. He pried his mouth from mine and started to kiss elsewhere; my cheek, behind my ear… my neck. I ran my hands over his shoulders and up the back of his neck, running my nails over his scalp and making him shiver. I gripped his hair and yanked, forcing his head up. I locked eyes with him, his eyes no longer that brilliant green but now blown and black with lust. My own eyes were probably no different. His gaze fluttered from my eyes to my lips, and before I let him kiss me again I leant forward and pressed my lips to his throat, my tongue on his skin. It was his turn to moan as I reached a hand down and traced a finger up the hard weapon growing in his pants. His large hands moving from my thighs to my ass, gripping tighter than ever before as I seemed to be pushing all the right buttons. He slid me to the edge of the desk so my lace-covered intimates were pressing right against him, friction and pleasure commencing. I pulled my lips from his throat before tugging his face down to mine, instigating the finale. I spoke breathlessly over his lips, already craving the taste of him again.

“Are you gonna fuck me or what, Winchester?”

Dean practically growled, frantically fumbling with moving my dress aside. He hooked a shaky but skilled finger into my underwear, trying to pull it aside but the elastic wouldn’t allow for it. I began to tremble as his digits kept ghosting over my most sensitive area. He soon gave up with his first plan, and his second plan made my eyes roll into the back of my head. Dean pulled a large hunting blade from inside his jacket and slid the flat side against my skin and up my thigh until it was under the lace fabric. The ice cold metal made me shiver before he swiftly sliced the blade up towards him, cutting my panties to shreds as he repeated the motion on the other side.

“Fuck that was hot,” I panted as he put the blade away and captured my lips again, running his tongue over mine. I gasped suddenly when he dipped a finger inside me, curling it and caressing that soft, sensual cushion that was hidden away. When I moaned, he added a second finger, leaning away from me slightly so he could see what a mess I was beneath him. After a few moments of utter bliss, he pulled his fingers out, sticking them straight in his mouth.

“You’re fucking delicious,” he groaned, standing up straight to shimmy out of his jacket. I leant forwards, grasping his belt buckle, undoing it and pulling down his zipper. Slowly I reached in and pulled him out of his boxers, his rock hard manhood hot and heavy in my palm. He closed his eyes as I ran my thumb over the tip, guiding my hand up and down, up and down, again and again until he grabbed my wrist.

“Let go so I can fuck you ‘til you can’t walk,” he practically growled, making me weak. I leant back on my palms, watching as he lined himself up and then disappeared inside me in one earth shattering motion. My eyes rolled back and my lips parted as I locked my ankles instinctively behind his back, my heels catching on the gun still tucked into his pants. He started to set a rhythm as he fucked me into the desk, the wooden structure sliding back with every thrust he made. He had both hands firmly planted on the desk beside me and I gripped his forearms tight, my head starting to spin from the overwhelming pleasure. It didn’t help that Deans head had dropped into the crook of my neck and his heavy breathing was like music to my ears. He kissed the skin there softly, drawing a moan from my lips with the sudden tenderness. The pounding was speeding up, and he suddenly wrapped an arm around my waist, desperately trying to get closer - to get deeper. The need for release was building and I’d lost control of my voice; Deans name tumbling from my lips like a prayer. I pressed his lips to mine feverishly, his breath ragged as he managed to pant out;

“Shit, (Y/n) I’m so close… I’m gonna need you to cum for me…”

I whimpered at the sound of my name on his breathless lips and he let go of my waist, placing his large palm on my stomach and sliding it down until his thumb connected with that bundle of nerves.

“Shit-Dean-,” whining against his mouth I started to feel the tension in the pit of my stomach build - the feeling of him pounding into me and stretching me more than ever before combined with his thumb on the magic button was a recipe for a quick release. And Dean knew that. He was fucking me so hard now that the sound of wet skin on skin echoed around the room and the banging of the desk could surely be heard from out in the corridor- maybe even downstairs. That knot was tightening, and tightening, and tightening until:

“Fuck- Dean I’m gonna cum!”

“Fuck,” was all he managed to groan before I shattered around him, that knot snapping and sending me into probably the best orgasm I’ve ever had. As I tensed up I pulled Dean over the edge with me and he buried his face into my neck, breathing heavily and cursing occasionally.

We stayed like that for a few moments, regaining some clarity and returning to earth. He took a few deep breaths before standing up and pulling out, tucking himself back into his pants and doing up his belt as his cum dripped down my thigh. He couldn't seem to look away, even when he reached for his jacket on the floor and put it back on.

“Stay there,” he said finally, disappearing behind some shelves for a second before returning with a box of tissues. He helped me clean myself up, tossing the tissues in the bin as we attempted to get rid of the evidence.

“Are you ok?” He asked sincerely, concern in his eyes as he offered me his hand. I smiled a little bashfully, placing my palm in his.

“I hate to admit it but I feel great.”

He helped me down off the table, placing a hand on my waist to help steady me on my still trembling legs. We both stood in a comfortable silence for a few moments before realisation hit us both and we looked at each other with wide eyes.

”Oh shit - Sam!”

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Up Next:

Chapter 7

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Chapter 1. - Chapter 2. - Chapter 3

Chapter 4. - Chapter 5. - Chapter 6

Word Count: 1470

Chapter 7:

The door closed behind you as the last of you entered, but no one was bothered by it. Instead, everyone was busy staring at the luxurious interior that did not match the vibe of the house outside.

"It's not exactly the stuff of nightmares." Jen commented, passively proving Agatha that such things were more to her liking.

The decor, the rich life and everything was something that Jen would easily have in her life; if she did not have her magic bound and forced to make "vegan" candles and products for ridiculous low prizes while fighting lawsuits for "little" accidents.

"The Road changes for the coven." Agatha explained bluntly.

However, it was Lilia that took notice of something else... her clothes.

"It changed us, too." She pointed out, making everyone look at themselves and at one another.

Indeed, the clothes had changed to fit the mood more; now, all of witches resembling rich housewives than anything else.

You dared to glance at yourself, eyebrows shooting up in surprise at the outfit the Road had chosen for you.

Your vest and tie were gone. Instead, a nice baby pink shirt had replaced the three buttons open and was rather generous with your cleavage. The outfit matched with a set of bright white pants and a white/creme jacket.

Bonus point, you were no longer barefoot, though you were not sure how to feel about the open toe ankle strapped heels

"My amulet!" Alice exclaimed in panic, searching for her very special necklace.

By instant, your hand went to your neck where yours was always tied but did not find it. Before panic could settle in, though, you took notice of one of the many bracelets you had in your arms.

One of them was your amulet, the three moon phases offering you some comfort.

Amulets were important for all witches, special symbols chosen by otherworldly powers, and each one unique to each witch. They carried fragments of your power. They symbolised your affinity, and more than once, they were enchanted to offer protection against lesser evil.

Everyone started to walk inside, some like Jen looking for a mirror to fully admire their new outfit and hairstyle, others the decorations; and some like Teen; took notice of something that stood out in this serene living room.

You stayed where you were, ready to take a step forward when you took notice of Agatha slowly heading for the door, only to realize there was no doorknob and no way to exit.

You shook your head faintly and placed one hand on your waist, connecting your gaze with hers.

"Ags," you said softly, and she offered you an innocent smile, as if you had not observed her trying to leave the room. "You know how it goes. There is no way out once a trial starts"

She huffed faintly, knowing that too well, but she still was willing to try. She was never a patient woman, and right now, she had no reason to be. She needed her powers as quickly as possible and to get away from everyone; hopefully stealing you with her along the way.

"Well, it was worth a shot," she argued and fixed her outfit, not hiding her dissing at the turtleneck and the very boring cliché outfit chosen for her.

"You know, this style is not that bad on you. Think you could pull it off, " you commented, hoping to take her mind off something at least.

Agatha rolled her eyes as she walked your way, confident as ever. "Oh, please. You liked anything I chose to wear. Terrible company for shopping"

You could not help but smirk. "True," you agreed, not once offended by her cheeky remark. "Though you could never truly blame me"

This might have been the longest talk you had with one another in a long time, and you did not want it to end. This back and forth comment and slight flirty remarks were always your thing; perhaps was also what had exposed your relationship the first time.

Back then, the world was not that tolerant with your preferences, and even now; sometimes it felt as if your feelings for the same gender were illegal, a mistake.

She stood between you and the door, head held high. While you were the same height, these heels did add you a few inches to make you taller than her, and somehow, you knew she did not fully like it.

Her gaze remained locked with yours and yet she could not help but let her eyes trail down your body, attracted by the open top of your shirt.

It had been too long since she had seen you in tempting clothes, buttons, and ribbons close enough that she could tease and remove without much of an effort.

You titled your head faintly to the side, drawing her attention to your delicate neck.

It was frustrating how easily she was attracted to you, a deep need to recreate all your past moments that never left her memory. She would never allow it to happen, not with others present and not before she had obtained her powers back.

You knew that, but still seeing the way she would look at you, the mood changing when she had her chance to comment on your words made you happy.

It was proof that despite the passing years, despite the time you spent away from one another; you had not become complete strangers... not yet.

There was still this spark between you that could easily be fed and grown into a huge fire, if only you would both let her.

You took a deep breath, fighting back the need to grab and kiss her; even if it was for a mere second. You knew now it was not the Time nor the place to try and bring back the spark you always seemed to have for one another.

"Oh my god!" Sharon shouted, worrying you all that something happened. Yet, when the mortal woman walked back into the living room with a smile on her face; your worries washed away. "Bury me in that kitchen."

"Careful what you wish, Mrs. Davis" You could not help but mumble, your mouth working before your brain could stop it. "Wishes are a powerful thing"

Your words did not seem to ease the atmosphere, and you could not help but receive different looks from your fellow witches. Your words did sound little too ominous for their liking, and considering you seemed to have some connection to Agatha, it made them even less willing to trust you right away.

Thankfully for you, Teen was there to save the day.

"Hey, check this out!" The boy called, making you all look at him; temptations and sinful thoughts pushed to the back of your minds.

You quickly noticed that in his hands, he held an envelope, and your curiosity got the best of you. You walked towards him along with the others, only Agatha trailing behind; careful of what might happen once that envelope was opened.

"The Witches' Road cordially invites you to The First Trial." He read the outside of the envelope before daring to open it. "It's a riddle. My age has value. I'm no fun alone. I mess with your mind. My tricks are well-known."

You held back a scoff. By the divine godess, did you hate riddles, always messing with your head, and unfortunately; you were never really good with them either.

Perhaps that was why they frustrated you that much.

"That's a gorgeous card stock. Double-sided, too." Sharon said, quickly taking and inspecting the card with the riddle on.

"What does it mean?" Jen asked.

"That it's really expensive."

"The riddle, Mrs. Davis." You explained to the human woman, who was once again lost in her own little world.

"My age has value, no fun alone, i mess with mind, my tricks are well-known... " Alice mumbled as she read the riddle out loud.

Agatha thought for a moment. "Sounds like a witch

Jen quickly grabbed the chance to comment. "Sounds like you."

An intense staring started between the two women, Agatha, even daring to minic Jen and not helping with the situation or the riddle.

Suddenly, Sharon turned and noticed something that was not on the table a moment ago. "Wine!"

Immediately, everyone realised that this was the answer.

"That's it. Ten points for Mrs. Hart." Jen said and all turned to look at the bottle of wine, accompanied by 6 wine glasses.

"Wait, we don't know what'll happen if we drink it." Lilia voiced out as Agatha grabbed the wine bottle.

"But if we don't follow these obvious breadcrumbs, we can't move forward, and we won't get to big prize," Agatha argued. "So, does anybody have a corkscrew?"

Chapter 8

[jessica-xtreme-slut]

The early bird catches the worm. And who will I catch with my net today😘?

[thebagsyndicate01]

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Who Taught You How to Love Like That? - Chapter Three

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamics. Smut. Oral (f receiving). Mild angst. Word count: ~3.1k

Chapter summary: The dinner date happens, and much more besides that.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

She hasn’t been able to shake the memory of Aemond’s lips since they kissed on Wednesday evening. He’d dropped her home shortly afterwards, letting her know he’d pick her up at 7pm on Friday. Since then her tummy has fluttered every time he crosses her mind. If she closes her eyes she can almost taste the red wine and cigarettes on the plushness of his lips as they’d pressed eagerly against her own.

She knows it is foolish to wish for something more, to expect their arrangement to be something other than transactional, but that kiss had felt like he meant it, so she allows herself a tiny slither of hope to believe there is the possibility for a genuine connection to blossom between them.

Relieved when her last minute annual leave request for Friday is approved, she gets to work on making sure she looks her best. She intends to spend the day face masking, exfoliating and shaving until she is the very picture of perfection for her dinner date.

She’s startled by the buzzer to the flat, rushing to the door to answer the intercom. She lets the delivery driver up, assuming it’s something Mysaria has ordered, but balks when three parcels are handed to her, each of them with her name on.

She opens the first, it contains a black floor length Ralph Lauren off the shoulder gown with a thigh high slit. She holds it against herself in front of the mirror, she knows Aemond is generous to her, but she is still awestruck by the sheer extent of how much he is prepared to spoil her.

The second package is a pair of Jimmy Choo black suede open toe platform sandals with a stiletto heel and delicate ankle strap. She turns the shoes over in her hand, marveling at them, but also wondering how on earth she’ll ever manage to walk in them.

Her phone vibrates and she’s unable to keep the Cheshire cat-like grin from her face as she sees it’s from Aemond.

I saw the tracking information for my gifts update to state they had been delivered. Do you like them?

She fires off a quick response.

I love them :) Thank you xoxo

It’s only after she’s set her phone back down that she remembers there’s a third package, hidden among the wrappings of the first two she’d opened. Her eyes widen as she unwraps it. Agent Provocateur. Aemond has sent her lingerie.

Her palms grow sweaty as her heart races and her thoughts travel faster than her mind has the capacity to keep up with. This clearly meant he anticipated something happening between them this evening. What man sends a woman underwear if he doesn’t expect to see her in it? She isn’t experienced at all. What if he’s disappointed? What if he asked for a refund? Fuck, can sugar daddies even ask that of their sugar babies?

She is broken out of her mild panic when Mysaria comes home. “You in?” She calls out as she closes the front door behind her.

“In here.” She shouts back from her room.

She hears her flatmate toe off her shoes and then pad towards her. She leans against the doorframe, eyeing the packaging and clothes that lay scattered on the carpet and lets out a low whistle.

“Daddy been spoiling you? Lucky girl!” Mysaria says with a grin, which disappears when she sees her worried expression. “What’s the matter?”

She holds up the Agent Provocateur lingerie box by means of response and Mysaria nods in understanding.

“Nothing needs to happen until you feel ready. Why not just try it on and see how you feel?”

She sucks in a steadying breath, attempting to calm herself. There was no harm in trying it on.

It turns out to be a playsuit of sorts. An underwired, padded quarter cup bra with a basque constructed using satin covered black boning and satin straps to create a cage-like effect, complete with suspender straps with gold-toned sliders, with subtle, matching black satin bows. Inside the box is also a flimsy black lace thong and black silk stockings.

“The man’s definitely got taste.” Mysaria says, helping her into it.

They’ve had to boot up her laptop and look up the lingerie on the Agent Provocateur website in order to figure out the intricate series of straps and clasps, and she can’t help but notice the eye watering price that’s listed alongside it online. Fuck. There was no way Aemond wasn’t expecting to sleep with her.

She stands in front of her full-length mirror and runs her hands over her body, looking at the way her breasts sit within the cups of the bra and how the straps of the basque dip and flare with the natural curve of her waist and hips.

“It looks different on the model on the website.” She says nervously, chewing her lip. “What if Aemond doesn’t like it?”

Mysaria snorts derisively. “Girl, please, that model has been airbrushed to shit. You are real and you look hot as fuck. Daddy’s gonna lose his mind when he sees you in that.”

“You really think so?” She asks, turning slightly, still studying herself in the mirror.

Mysaria gives her a playful swat on the backside. “Oh, I know so. Now let’s finish getting you ready.”

Two hours later, her hair and make-up have been perfected by her flatmate, and she stands wearing the dress and shoes that Aemond had gifted her - she has done several practice laps of the living room in the heels, to ensure she doesn’t fall over - the lingerie is snug to her body underneath.

Her nerves disappear the moment Aemond steps out of the car to greet her. His long silver-blonde hair is loose. She has never seen it all down at once, it falls thick and lustrous, well past his shoulders. Yet another well-tailored black suit hugs the broadness of his shoulders and the length of his long legs.

Any uncertainty as to how she ought to say hello dissipates as he cups her jaw and presses a soft kiss to her lips.

“Hi.” He murmurs, keeping her close. “You look beautiful.”

“Hi yourself.” She whispers back. “You don’t look so bad either.”

He helps her into the passenger seat and the drive is spent in comfortable silence, though this time his hand lays a possessive hold on her knee whenever he’s not shifting gears. It leaves tingles across her skin in its wake and the gesture makes her feel lightheaded.

They pull up outside a restaurant called SOLA and Aemond takes her hand as he opens the car door for her.

“I took the liberty of choosing this place because it has a Michelin star. Never actually tried it myself.” He tells her as they walk in.

The dining room is small and intimate, elegantly decorated with an abundance of leafy green plants and sculptural lighting, but she is struck by the distinct lack of other diners.

“Why is no one else here?” She whispers to him as they’re ushered towards their table.

He smirks, watching her take in her surroundings with wide eyes once they are seated, his one seeing eye studies her closely. “I hired the place just for us for tonight. Wanted you all to myself.”

She giggles at that. Such a show off. She expects the food to be equally as flashy, a display of wealth for the sake of it. However, Aemond has ordered ahead of time for the both of them, with choices that suggest a more refined palate that goes beyond merely wanting to splash his cash.

They dine on Kindai bluefin tuna and oysters, paired with crisp white wine and the conversation flows as effortlessly as the wine.

She finds out that there isn’t much in the country from a business standpoint that the Targaryens and Hightowers don’t have a hand in. His father had worked to build an empire alongside his partners Otto and Daemon, prior to his death, and much of it has been left for his children to take care of now that he’s passed. Aemond oversees most of the legal aspects of the business, which is unsurprising to her considering how sharp his mind is.

He listens intently as she tells him more about her history degree and love of fine art. It saddens her when he tells her that originally he’d wanted to study history and philosophy, but had had to give that up to pursue a career in law when his family’s expectations were laid out to him.

It’s obvious there is an abundance of complexities and drama surrounding his family, but she knows better than to attempt to unpick all of that now, especially when the evening is going so well. 

Her skin feels heated every time he reaches across the table to gently stroke the back of her hand with his thumb. His eye contact is intense and with every moment that passes she finds any apprehension she had about sleeping with him simply fading away. She wants him.

“Dessert?” He asks, as the meal draws to a close.

She shakes her head with a slight smile. “Couldn’t eat another bite.”

“A pity.” He says, taking her hand and tugging her from her seat towards him. “I’m still absolutely ravenous.”

“For what- oh!” She gasps as he sits her on the edge of the table in front of him, lifting the skirt of her dress to the side by its thigh slit.

He hums in approval as his eye roves over the bottom half of her lingerie. She feels like there isn’t enough air in the room, her heart hammers wildly against her ribcage as his hands run up and down her legs. His thumbs stroke the creases where her thighs meet her pelvis as he drinks her in.

“W-what if one of the waiters sees?” She asks nervously, squirming against the heat that pools between her legs.

“Well, I suppose we’d better put on a good show for them.” He tells her with a raise of his eyebrow.

He hooks two fingers into the lace of her thong, pulling it to one side before he leans forward, groaning appreciatively as the flat of his tongue strokes gently through her folds.

A soft moan escapes her. No one has ever taken the time or care to do this to her before, she is unsure of what she’s supposed to do in this situation, but the thought leaves her mind entirely as Aemond begins to flick his tongue against her bud before suckling it harshly. She leans back on her elbows as he devours her with his lips and tongue, doing her best to stifle her noises by biting her lip, her chest heaving with the effort to stay quiet.

Her hands fly to his head, burying themselves in his hair as she bucks against his face when he speeds up his movements. Sounds of enjoyment rumble in his chest, sending shockwaves all the way through her body, causing a telltale tightness to rapidly build within her lower belly.

She finally falls apart, shuddering atop the table with a strangled cry when uses the tip of his tongue to draw tight circles against the most sensitive part of her. He pulls away, his face shining with her slick as he lifts her underwear back into place. He grins, wiping his mouth with a napkin.

“You okay?” He asks.

She nods, feeling dazed. “Yeah…just…I need a minute.”

Aemond chuckles, smoothing her dress back into place. “Understandable.”

“That was…wow.” Is all she’s able to say once she feels lucid enough.

Aemond stands, helping her from the table. “The bill was taken care of in advance. Let’s head back to my place. I want to be somewhere where you don’t have to stifle those pretty noises you make.”

His hand sits higher on her thigh on the drive back. A mixture of nervousness and excitement has her pulse thrumming from thoughts of what he’ll do to her, of what he’s just done to her. Nobody had ever gone down on her before, but now Aemond has, and on top of a fucking restaurant table of all places.

Aemond lives in the penthouse of a modernised high rise. It’s minimalist. All of the fittings and furnishings are a combination of matte black and shiny silver chrome. It’s clean almost to the point of feeling sterile. It’s obvious he doesn’t spend a lot of time here.

She grins when she sees the elderly doberman raise her head from her bed as they walk through to the living room.

“You must be Vhagar.” She coos softly, kneeling and offering a hand for her to sniff. She scratches gently around the dog’s ears, giggling at the way she narrows her eyes in satisfaction, lifting her salt and pepper snout towards the ceiling.

“She’s not normally fond of strangers.” Aemond muses, as he kneels beside her, ruffling Vhagar’s head.

“The trick is to approach from their level and offer your hand before you try to touch.” She tells him. “Most animals that don’t like people just haven’t been approached by the right ones.”

He stares at her for a few moments, a small smile upon his lips, before he finally breaks the silence.

“Can I get you anything?” He asks, standing and walking towards the kitchen.

“I’m good, thanks.” She follows him and they hover by the kitchen island, simply looking at each other before he surges forward to kiss her.

The force of it feels like it knocks all the air from her lungs, it’s hungry and possessive and she returns it with equal enthusiasm, whimpering as her tongue meets his. He dominates the movement, his hand cupping the back of her head as he backs her into the bedroom.

She topples back onto the bed at his soft but insistent shove. Black sheets of a no doubt ridiculously high thread count feel like buttery silk around her as Aemond kneels before her to tug off her dress.

“Fuck.” He mutters as she lays before him in the lingerie he’d bought for her. “Yeah, we’ll be leaving this on. And these.” He grips the heel of her shoe, as he places a kiss to the inside of her ankle, before letting it drop again.

She watches, transfixed as he sheds his own clothing. Aemond is a work of art. His chest and abs subtly toned, he is all lithe, corded muscle, and she clenches at the sight of him. He is already hard when he strips all the way off, and nerves nibble away at her as she looks at the sheer size of him. Long and thick, lightly veined with a blush pink tip, her mouth waters slightly at the sight, yet there is a part of her that worries it might hurt. She had only ever slept with her ex before, and despite her inexperience she knew enough to know he wasn’t well endowed, nothing compared to this.

Aemond crawls over the top of her, trailing hot, open mouthed kisses to her neck and collarbones that make her writhe beneath him, each one sending warm ripples of arousal through her.

His fingers dip between her legs, pushing past her thong to stroke at her. “Shit,” He hisses. “Still so wet for me, I don’t even have to prepare you.”

He takes a condom from the nightstand, tearing it open and rolling it over the length of him before repositioning himself between her legs.

They both suck in a sharp breath as he begins to push inside, the stretch of him against her sensitive walls is both too much and not enough all at the same time.

“So fucking tight.” He grits outs, his grip on her hips vice like as he bottoms out.

He lays like that, forehead rested against hers as they both adjust, only daring to move his hips once she relaxes.

His strokes are smooth, even and precise, tapping a spot inside of her with every thrust that has her clutching his shoulders and moaning his name.

“Feels so good.” She mewls desperately as his hips piston against her own.

“Oh she likes that.” He hisses, almost mockingly, placing one of her legs over his shoulder and pounding harder into her.

Her eyes roll back at the sensation, her hands grip frantically at Aemond’s biceps and then the bedsheets beside her as he rubs at her clit with his thumb in tandem with each of his thrusts.

“You gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” He asks huskily. “I can feel you squeezing me.”

“Fuck!” Is all she’s able to cry out in response as she feels herself tighten and spasm around him, her back arching off of the bed with the force of the pleasure that washes over her.

Her own release triggers Aemond’s and he snarls, holding her tight against his chest as he stills and spills into the condom.

He pulls out, depositing it into the wastebin and pulls her into his arms.

She feels utterly spent, boneless and dazed in the wake of what she’s just experienced, but Aemond isn’t prepared to let her doze off just yet.

He moves down the bed, unbuckling each of her shoes and removes them. He ushers her to the bathroom with a firm tap to her thigh. Once she’s finished and settled back into bed with a glass of water, he begins to slowly unclasp each of the straps of her body suit, softly rubbing and kissing each of the indentations made by the bones of it as it falls away from her body.

“You’re gorgeous.” He whispers to her, stroking her hair as she drifts off to sleep.

She awakens the next morning, surprised at how refreshed she feels considering the events of the previous evening. She smiles to herself as she snuggles into the luxurious feeling plushness of the bed, thoughts of how good Aemond had made her feel playing on a loop in her mind. She is startled slightly when she rolls over to find his spot empty.

A note has been left on the bedside table.

Sorry, had to run. Have transferred you money for cab fare - A.

She sighs. She hadn’t expected breakfast in bed, but she can’t deny the sinking feeling in her stomach at the fact he hadn’t bothered to stick around. Rummaging through her things that lay scattered on the floor, she retrieves her phone to look at the time when she sees the banking app notification.

£5,000 from A. Targaryen. Her heart twists painfully in her chest. That wasn’t cab fare, it was payment for last night.

Chapter two || Chapter four || Series masterlist

[al-911]

This post is an idea I've had floating around for a while. Those that know me know I'm into the idea of dungeons and torture chambers, the kind full of different devices. So I thought why not collate all my devilish device designs in one place, a bit like my quite popular immobility post.

I'll add to this post as ideas pop into my head, or I improve an existing one. One day with enough money, I'll even build them (a guy can dream).

A word on atmosphere: the room should be dimly lit, with spot lighting to reveal and emphasise each torture device. Lees should only enter the room bound and stripped, to enforce a feeling of captivity. An ideal entry would be strapped horizontal to a gurney, limiting their initial ability to see the devices as they can only turn their head so far, or see suspension devices on the ceiling.

1) The Tough Girl: Picture yourself kneeling. Now imagine leaning forward onto a massage table at about 45 degrees from horizontal. Now imagine your feet brought up to a similar angle behind you, resting on a padded part so your body forms a shape like a tick ✅️

This foot rest will be contoured to accept the Lee's feet to present their soles at a relaxed enough angle that their toes can be pulled back and restrained quite tightly. Ankles will be restrained in a small custom restraint resembling stocks, but again contoured to hold their feet from almost the very start of the heel end of their soles, up to the start of their calves.

Working upwards, with the option of mummifying the lee (for reasons which will become apparent as we fully explain the device), there will be combination strap-cuffs to hold together and pull down the legs above and below the knees, and at the thighs.

We move now to the upper body. The angled massage table will extend from just above the hips, to the face (the kind with a hole for your face). The torso will be strapped down securely, with the Lee's genitals exposed below the padded section. Their arms can be positioned in multiple places: at their sides, behind their back connected to a winch, for cranking their wrists higher behind them, or crossed just ahead of their forehead, restrained at the wrists and biceps. The multiple positions allow for changing positions as the lee tires, particularly from the hands-behind position.

The head will be tightly restrained in the "viewport", forcing them to stare at the screen in front of them which can be made to show either intense tickle videos or a live feed of their own torment (I'd favour a top down view of their soles). The view could also be swapped to a physical view of another lee in a duplicate of the device, so that they can watch some soles being tortured before their turn... or have soles forced into their face, if we're being even kinkier.

This device exposes almost all of a naked Lee: soles skyward, the backs and sides of the legs open to torment, and with variation of the arm positions, their back and sides. There could also be cutouts to access the belly and nipples, and of course their head is firmly restrained for precise, intense ear neck and scalp tortures.

There is full access for forced orgasms and edging, and the lee being literally on their knees may have a psychological effect on their submission. The device elicits simultaneous feelings of hogties, face down tortures, and when the arms are elevated behind by the winch, a little suspension.

2) The Arch: Quite simple really. A gently arched bench lined with straps (imagine more. No, a lot more!). A naked Lee is draped over it, wrists and ankles bound and linked to winches. Gently stretch them, strap down the wrists and ankles, and then the many other straps until satisfied, head to toe. With a mirror above, the taut and exposed lee is now ready for their torture, hips pushed forward to accept any orgasms you wish to impose upon them with a dangling Hitachi.

3) The Shower: There are in fact, two showers. One for Lees to be cleaned in, and one for the ler to use. The Lee gets to lie fave down or face up on a bench, strapped down ready to be washed and scrubbed (torturously). Their feet are locked in stocks in the wall between the showers.

While cooling down between sessions, and after scrubbing the lee clean, the ler can take a refreshing shower, with some feet to enjoy as they go. Myself, I'd have the lee face down so I can enjoy their sole bowl, using the soapy lather for a foot job as I relax in the luxury shower...

The Super Deluxe edition of the shower would have stocks for many Lees, so I can worship a set of soles while I tickle another and have fun with a third...

4) The Pit: A dark pit, which you are lowered into while strapped to a frame. So dark you aren't sure your eyes are open. A door closes over you once you're inside.

Time passes. Your eyes do not adjust, it is total darkness... except for me. With night vision goggles (with an infrared light source, yes I know they don't work without some form of light) I can see you perfectly. And torture you from the shadows you are surrounded by.

Another variant would be to be lowered, legs wide, directly onto a feather wheel, only knowing it is there at the bottom when it touches between your legs. The echoing laughter and moans can echo back up form the pit to psychologically torture the other prisoners.

[persphonesorchid]

Minisode: Jimin

Notes: hehehe 😭 Jimin has finally made it to my blog in his own fic y'all

Warnings: MC and Jimin are drunk

Jimin's head feels light, despite the fact that he's perfectly capable of holding his liquor, and the promise that you could hold yours as well, you both cling to eachother as you stumble towards his apartment door in a fit of high pitched giggles.

He doesn't even know what you're laughing at, but something about the sound makes him giggle too as he fumbles to press his finger against the keypad on his door. You're leaning heavily against him, your arm wrapped around his own, and he stares at the lock with his finger hovering over it.

"Gimme a sec." Jimin abandons trying to remember the code, mind too fuzzy with the drinks he had to even hold his hand steady. He fishes for his keycard in your purse, digging past your house keys and both your phones to find it tucked in the little inner pocket. He smiles drunkenly as he presses the chip to the scanner, and pushes the door when it clicks open, herding you in first and trying to make sure you don't trip over your own feet. He's not as drunk as you are, but way past tipsy.

You plop down in the entryway, fingers tackling the straps of your heels with an expression that tells Jimin you're concentrating really hard to do so. He helps, batting your hands gently away to pull the straps from the little buckle at your ankle, and then pulling you to your feet.

"I'm never drinking with you again." You groan, as Jimin nudges house slippers to you with a soft laugh, "I should've stopped at the first soju bomb."

"You said you could keep up, not my fault." Jimin toes his shoes off his feet, sliding them into the fluffy comfort of his house slippers. He steps over the raised platform that leads towards the living room and kitchen, a hand holding your arm to keep you steady as you follow. "Easy."

He watches as you carefully lift a leg, your eyes not even open and he guides you forward. He leads you towards the kitchen, sits you down at the island where you press your cheek against the cool marble with a sigh. You grumble something that Jimin can't decipher, and he passes you a bottle of water.

"What?" He asks, brushing your hair away from your face with a gentle hand. You peek an eye open, the movement of your hand taking the bottle from him looking like it took more effort than it should. Your limbs weighed down by the alcohol running through your bloodstream. You sigh heavily as you drag yourself to sit straight, head lolling forward.

"It's cold in here." You slur, the fingers of your other hand curling around the cap of the bottle, but you're squeezing the bottle too tight and Jimin knows it'll spill if you crack the seal.

He takes the bottle and opens it for you, pressing it back into your hand with a chuckle, "It's not. You're anemic." He moves to turn the heat up anyway, as fall is on the cusp and the nights aren't as warm anymore when the sun takes its warmth as it sets.

He comes back to the kitchen to find you've barely taken a sip of the water and you're most definitely asleep.

"Y/n..." He dips his fingers into your hair, coaxing you out of the sleep that hasn't yet deepened too much to give him trouble to rouse you. "Drink the water, you can't sleep at the counter."

You groan, lifting your head with much effort and taking enough sips of the water until Jimin's satisfied and you're pushing the water away.

"Let's get you to bed, c'mon." He guides you carefully off the chair, and towards his bedroom.

Jimin laughs under the sound of you starting to sing a song, very off-key and loud, clinging to him as you stumble along. He guides you carefully to his bedroom, letting you flop face first into his bed with a loud groan, your singing tottering off into incoherent mumbles of what Jimin believes is the song. He fishes through his drawers, finding clothes for you to wear, and turns to find you already halfway out your dress.

"Y/n!" Jimin covers his eyes with the tee-shirt he holds, he stretches a hand blindly forward, keeping his hand at your shoulder level. "You can't just...take this."

He shakes the tee-shirt and boxer shorts at you, his other hand coming up to cover his eyes even though they're tightly shut. You're giggling at something, fingers brushing his when you take the clothes from it, and in the quiet that follows, he wonders if you could hear his heart kicking against his ribs.

"M'done." You say and Jimin uncovers his eyes to find you fully dressed. He cleans the smudged make-up off your face with a couple of wipes, but when he tries to pull away you wrap your arms around his neck. He's forced to steady himself with his palms on either side of your hips, sinking into the soft mattress, noses almost touching, he breathes your name.

"Mimi?" Your eyes are barely open, slightly red as you try to stay awake. Jimin tries to pull away but you've locked your hands behind his neck. "I think I'm drunk."

"Yes, you are." Jimin says softly, laughing, "and you should sleep, yeah?"

You nod, but don't let go, "I think I like you, too."

Oh, Jimin's heart staggers and then skips ahead, and when he pulls away this time, it's easy. He doesn't know what to say to that, with a warmth spreading from his chest to settle in his cheeks. He takes a breath and all the times he's daydreamed about this doesn't quite compare to this moment.

You're squinting at him, a pout on your bottom lip, and its something he'd rather talk to you about when you're both sober enough.

[jordanstrophe]

Hallow Island, 2

[part 1] [Series Masterlist] [Part 3]

CW: Back-handed slap, gagged, bound, manhandled, controlling whumper, kidnapping/imprisoned, sliiight failed escape attempt if you squint

The strap around whumpees wrists and ankles were undone and they were tugged out of their airplane seat by an arm.

Immediately whumpee tried to rip the gag out of their mouth, but whumper took it as an opportunity to get their other arm.

"Easy! Easy now. I don't want to hurt you. Calm yourself." Whumper lulled. The words sickened whumpee to the core as they got one more burst of adrenaline and managed to rip an arm loose.

"HEY!" Whumper yelled, swiping to grab them but whumpee twisted free and bolted out the plane exit just as it opened.

The second their foot was out the door, they ran face first into two guards who seemed like they were waiting right there for them. They each grabbed an arm and pinned whumpee between them, neither budging their grip.

Whumper sniffed angrily and motioned for the guards to turn them around; before striking whumpee hard against the cheek. They whimpered as the side of their face hit the guards arm by force.

"I really tried being gentle with you... Try anything like that again and you'll lose that privilege." Whumper spat, grabbing whumpees face as they flinched.

"Nod if you understand." Whumper hissed.

Whumpees eyes flickered between defiance and fear, before giving a small angry nod. There was nothing they could do between the two guards aside from giving in.

"Splendid. Take them to the hollow. I want them clean and ready for tonight. And check their cheek before they go up for auction, I don't want to see a bruise. It's bad for business." Whumper fixed their sleeve and waved them off.

Whumpee felt weightless between the two guards. If they fought they got yanked so hard their feet went off the ground. The island was surrounded by a sandy beach, their toes left skid marks from where they struggled. They tried burying their heels but all they did was get sand in their shoes.

Despite it being an island, they could see massive glass buildings in the center beyond the palm trees. Up ahead there was a cave with a built in iron wall and door. Whumpee tried to plead with the guards, but all they could do was make sad muffled noises.

The guard on their left never looked at them once. The guard on their right occasionally glanced to make sure they weren't squeezing too tight, at least not enough to leave a mark.

Someone from the inside opened the door. The halls got dark quick and soon enough, whumpee was gently laid down in a cell where they sunk to the floor on their knees. That would be their chance to run if they had the energy; it took the plane nearly a day to get wherever they were and they spent the last energy in pitiful efforts.

"Someone will be by soon to look you over. Just try and get some rest, mmkay?" The last guard spoke, looking over their shoulder. Whumpee ripped the gag out of their mouth and shouted "PLEASE HELP ME!" Before the door slammed shut.

Whumpee let loose a broken cry they had been holding in since they shoved the gag in the first place. 

To be continued- [Series Masterlist]

@enigmawritesstuff

[itstheoneshot]

Kinktober Day 20

Feet - Jaehyun

!sub Jaehyun

When you wanted attention, you knew exactly how to get it. It was a gift to your boyfriend too, really, you weren’t quite sure which of you enjoyed this more, giving or receiving, though it was always in the same position. He worshipped the ground you walked on… but mostly, what you walked on the ground with.

You sit down to pull on the shoes. Stiletto heels, they are mostly straps, all of your feet visible, held together with strings so delicately tied around your ankles, with a pretty bow to accent and hold it all together. Sure, your outfit is divine too, a little black dress, accentuating your curves, cut low at the cleavage and cinched in at the waist, but you know that isn’t the point of this look, and not where Jaehyun will really be looking anyway.

It was date night and you had a dinner reservation in a few hours, but you were planning on going out for drinks first. This is why you are so dressed up, waiting by the front door for him to arrive at your house to take you out. He had messaged to tell you that he was on his way, so the knock on the door only a moment later came with no surprise.

“Hi, baby,” He smiles at you softly as you open the front door to greet him, “I’ve missed you.”

It had only been a week since you had last seen him, but you were both so clingy, missing each other every second you were apart. You lean up on your toes, albeit with difficulty in these heels, to kiss him, which he returns eagerly, holding you in his arms and savouring the closeness for a moment until he pulls back to get a better look at you.

“I missed you too,” You reply, watching as he eyes you up and down… and down again, “Are you ready to go?”

He pauses for a moment before slowly lifting his gaze back up to meet yours, “Not yet, can we go inside?”

You are puzzled at his request, but step backwards into your apartment, and he follows, swiftly closing the door behind him before returning his attention to you. He drops down to his knees in one quick movement, and you reach to help him, assuming for a second that he fell before realising that he meant to end up there.

“These are new,” He murmurs, tracing the ribbons elegantly wrapped around your feet, “I like them.”

You blush, finding your own way down to sit on the ledge at the edge of the alcove, giving Jaehyun the freedom to lift your foot up to get a better look. You stretch your leg out and point your toes, watching his eyes widen before he leans in to press a kiss to your little toe. 

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” He asks, pausing between each word to kiss your foot again, his fingers already working to untie the bow and remove your new shoes, “Are you trying to make me crazy?”

A soft moan escapes you as your shoe falls to the ground and his tongue wraps around your big toe, while a louder moan leaves him, only muffled slightly with his mouth closed.

“I didn’t do anything,” You tease him, “You’re the one so… into this.”

His free hand roams up your thighs, easily spreading apart for him, as he licks and sucks all over your feet, the other shoe coming off at some point so that he can give both equal attention. He looks pathetic, his erection so obvious in his slacks, lips slightly swollen from overuse, eyes glassy with no thoughts behind them other than lust.

“It’s not my fault,” He retorts, going half cross-eyed as he admires your feet right in front of his eyes, as you wiggle your toes to stretch them out a little, “They’re just so fucking sexy.”

You throw your head back as he kisses your feet again, worshipping them, praising all of you, it is indescribable. He palms at his erection through his pants, making it clear how badly he wants you, and you burn with desire too. You know how well he fucks you when he gets like this, needy and desperate, he is unstoppable once he has his sights set.

Forgetting pre-dinner drinks, soon you are on your back on the hallway floor, ankles up around Jaehyun’s head with his cock buried so deep inside you it has you screaming. Thankful for your flexibility, Jaehyun is able to continue touching your feet as he fucks you with all the effort that he can muster. Your back is arched for a better angle, and Jaehyun whines as your body contracts and convulses around him, needing this just as much as he does. He whimpers pathetically around your toes in his mouth as each thrust gets harder, faster, chasing release and relief from the building pressure as both of your orgasms near in.

“Be a good boy, Jaehyunnie,” You coo, fingers tangling in his hair as you feel your thighs shaking, “Make me cum, my valentine boy, you want to fill me up too, don’t you?”

Jaehyun’s eyes glaze over with the baby-talk, spurring him on, he moves a hand between your legs to touch your oversensitive clit, fingers rubbing circles on it as he kisses up the arch of your foot to your heel, your ankle, you watch as tears form in the corners of his eyes as he tries to hold back a little longer, just as your thighs begin to shake, more than ready to let go.

You cry out Jaehyun’s name again, loudly this time with the force of your orgasm. It is practically mind-melting, euphoric, addictive, you are sure you will never get sick of the way that he makes you feel. You grip onto him tightly, helping him over the edge with contractions around his cock, milking him dry, desperate for every last drop of his cum inside you, needing it more than anything. When he finally slows, with heavy breaths he pauses to stare at you lovingly, gently moving your legs down so that you can have some relief from the stretch.

“I suppose we should go straight to dinner,” He chuckles, “But we might need to fix ourselves up first.”

---

kinktober masterlist

[mermaladesims]

Double Platform Heeled Sandals

These satin sandals feature a open toe with a high block heel and a double platform. The ankle strap is adorned with a signature Mermalade charm.

- New Mesh

- All Lods

- 10 Swatches

- Custom thumbnail

- Compatible with HQ mod

- Available in deco version

- Available in slider

- Slider Link

Feet Credit: @magic-bot / magic bot 

This post will become public on: 03/03/2023

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[galenthusiast]

Shoes in EGG magazine vol.37 - 1999/07

plaftform heels, platform wedge;

sandals, mules, open toe, ankle strap, slingback;

natural inspired materials;

weaves and braids;

natural colors, solid vivid colors.

[scans by galrevo]