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rqnarok · 1 month ago

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thinking about being old man!logan’s little housewife...

headcanons - cws/tags: sexual content, mdni! old man!logan. dom/sub undertones. age gap. both characters are of the age of consent. unprotected p in v. 18+ only.

logan’s all worn out. there is no justification made on depicting how done he is with the world. he lives his days in an accustomed routine - dread crawling on his scarred skin - digging the soil for his own grave.

when he meets you, however, the horror, the panic, and the terror begin to fade away from his blurry orbs—replaced by the sight of your sugary sweet smile. you kept him calm by easing down his drinking and self-destruction. and he just can’t deny you, not when his dick gets so fucking hard when you’re around.

you can’t help it either. the need to fix someone seems very familiar in your generation—so sentimental and at the same time, pragmatic. never accepting ‘no’ for an answer, including when he tries to back you down by saying “ya’ don’t want me, kid. i’m an old dog.” as if sunlight to a plant, it only motivates you. leaving him flushed red and burrows knitted after you whispered filthy remarks to his ear.

up to the point where he finally tears down his prejudices towards marriage and puts a shiny ring on your finger.

he turns a blind eye to anyone glancing at him weirdly at how much older he looks compared to you, his salt-and-pepper beard not helping either. when charles notices the changes in him—how he seems to smile more and how hickeys sprawled up on his neck—he just can’t help but make snarky comments about it. logan’s too old for you (or so charles told him), and logan finds himself balking at that.

“if she doesn’t want it, she would’ve left already.”

he’s right. if you didn’t want it, you would’ve left him. oh, but you stayed. and not only did you stay, but you also took care of him. letting you eat out the palm of his hands.

greeting logan when he comes back from his blue-collar work, cooking and baking his favorite foods, ironing his work clothes and spraying the fabric with a lovely scent, kissing his bloodied knuckles, putting the prettiest outfit for him as a show, warming his cock when he sits lazily on the couch, nuzzling his thighs while you wait for him to get harden again, and letting him have you anywhere and anytime he wants.

logan keeps a polaroid of you while he’s away. a reminder to himself that he has a home now. he’d keep it in his wallet or his jacket pocket or hanging it on the car’s rear-view mirror. how empty was he to be so full of you now?

he never thought he would live a life like this—like how it is supposed to be. without you knowing, logan added one or two hours into his shift so that he could earn more extra pennies. the money he’ll use to pamper you, to make you feel comfortable and content. let you buy anything you want—all things on your shopping list are checked out by the end of the week.

and y’know, he’s an old man who’s not as strong as he used to be. so you pay for all this hard work by burying your face in logan’s neck as you ride him on the sofa. his head tilts slightly to catch your red-kissed lips with his - logan breathes something about how good you’re making him feel, “such a good little wife f’r your old man.”

he loves to tease you—telling you that you’re making him feel younger than ever when he’s with you, “gettin’ tired already, baby? need me t’do it for ya’?” his murmurs get to you as his large palms cup your ass, getting a handful of the plush skin before guiding you up and down his girth.

logan knows how tired you can be, especially when you start whining desperately like this, so he gives one or two light smacks for encouragement, “there ya’ go, kiddo. fuck. don’t stop now. doin’ so well, baby. so good.”

how you always ask for kisses from him ignites that taboo, perverted part of him he did not even know existed. anything that reminds him of how needy you are for him — feels so fucking wrong. but again, it gets his dick so fucking hard, too. he cannot help but to give in.

“bet no one has ever fucked this pretty pussy like i have, huh? need a real man to do it.”

he’s so fucking smug of himself since he had you. knowing those boys your age wishes that you choose them instead. but he’ll know that would never happen because when he says something like “look acha, drooling over an old man like me. gonna let me fill ya’ up, hm?” your walls manage to grip his girth tighter - squeezing him in so deliciously logan wonders what kind of a heroism act he did to deserve you.

makes you do a little ‘fashion show’ for him in the living room, parading yourself wearing all kinds of clothes that he bought. logan spreads his muscular thighs wide as he reads the newspaper—and the sight of him wearing his glasses that rest at the tip of his nose is holy to you, waiting to be worshipped.

you’d come out with a white lingerie that barely covers anything, “do you like it, lo?” whilst you giggle and twirl in front of him, you almost miss how he adjusted his seating position to palm himself through his trousers. telling you, “c’mere here, baby. lemme take good look at’cha, gimme some sugar.”

by ‘taking a look’ he means hiking up the sheer cloth to inspect your glistening mound, “hm. such a perfect pussy you got here, sweet’art.” probing his thick finger on the wet slick, humming at the dirty squelching sound. the look that he has makes your legs tremble - his untrimmed greying beard - his vague-looking face scars.

oh, coming home to you is the best part of his day. always. he’d see you heating the soup you made earlier and loses his fucking mind. turning off the stove in quick movements before hauling you up in his arms.

skin meets skin slapping fills the room and praises come out of his mouth so naturally, “f-fuck. gon’ stuff ya’ up, darlin'." you’re vulnerable and bare, you can’t even think when he’s got you like this.

logan would intertwine his fingers with yours. placing them side by side to see the wedding rings. a legitimate reminder that you’re his and he’s yours—forever.

“good little wife. my good little wife.”

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #old man logan #old man!logan #old man logan x reader #wolverine smut #deadpool and wolverine #headcanon #logan by nina <3

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moonchild9350 · 2 months ago

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A Little Sugar Goes a Long Way

Summary: you’re in need of some sugar and go to see if your neighbor Hyunjin can lend you some.

Pairing: Hyunjin x fab reader

Genre: strangers to lovers au, smut-18+MDNI

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: teasing, filthy kissing, oral sex ( m and f receiving), masturbation, nipple play, pussy slapping, cum swallowing, cum tasting, cum swapping, unprotected sex (don’t), squirting, creampie

Notes: a little break from my spooktober fics. I just can’t get enough of hyunjin. spooktober will resume tomorrow!

If you enjoyed, please consider a like, comment, reblog as it keeps me motivated!

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

“Flour, butter, baking powder, milk, salt, canola oil, sugar…”

You frantically looked through your cabinets, looking for the white sack that was needed to complete your recipe. You searched everywhere, but couldn’t find any, panic slowly setting in.

“Shit,” you muttered under your breath, slamming the last cabinet shut.

You were in the process of baking a cake for your friend’s birthday party tomorrow and you were missing the star ingredient. You really didn’t feel like going to the store, having to battle the crowd shopping for their own needs, being shoved this way and that as you tried to get to the aisle you needed.

You crossed your arms and tapped your foot, thinking how you could obtain the sugar. You could have it dropped to your house, but that could take longer than necessary, and plus the delivery fee was bound to be more than the cost of the sugar itself, not to mention having to tip the driver.

You were lost in thought, the idea of going to the store becoming more realistic with each passing second. Right as you decided on your decision, you remembered your neighbor Hyunjin. He recently moved in, but usually keeps to himself, with you only seeing each other in passing when you’re both on your way to work.

You could see if he had some sugar, just enough for your recipe. Making your way to your door, you slid into some shoes and grabbed your keys, leaving to go next door. It was a nice day, the sun shining, no clouds in sight. You made your way down the sidewalk and over to Hyunjin’s house, walking up the steps to his door.

Taking a breath, you rapped your knuckles on the door three times and quickly dropped your hand to wait. A minute passed and then two, with no one answering the door. You were about to turn around to return home, assuming he was out when the door swung open, a disheveled Hyunjin on the other side.

“Oh, hi,” you said, turning to face Hyunjin as you took him in. He was wearing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt splattered with different colors, and his hair up in a ponytail. You forgot how easy he was on the eyes.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes wide as he tried to place where he knew you from. It was starting to get a little awkward until there was recognition in the brown orbs, a smile gracing his face, his dimples appearing.

“Y/n!” He exclaimed, clapping his hands together. “What are you doing here?”

“Sorry to bother you, but I um…ran out of sugar and I’m baking a cake and…” you paused for a moment and rocked back and forth on your heels. Why were you nervous?

Taking a breath you continued, “And I was wondering if I could use some sugar?”

“Oh? Of course! Come in, I’ll get you some.”

You followed Hyunjin, stepping over the threshold into his home. As you followed Hyunjin to the kitchen, your eyes wandered from room to room, taking in the simplicity of it all. It was surprisingly clean, not what you expected of him.

Once in the kitchen, you stopped by the counter and watched as he opened a cabinet, pulling out the white sac containing the ingredient you needed.

“How much do you need?” Hyunjin inquired.

“One and a half cups please,” you replied.

Hyunjin hummed and grabbed a small bag to place the sugar in. You watched as he delicately opened the bag, his fingers curling around the edge of the rim, pulling it open. Your mind couldn’t help but wander, thinking of how those fingers would feel trailing down your body, touching you where you were throbbing in between your legs.

You watched as he gripped the bag and tipped it over, measuring out the amount you needed. His veins were prominent, his muscles flexed and bulging. You shook your head, ashamed of your staring, he’s your neighbor after all.

While he finished up, you could hear the faint sound of music drifting through the house. You listened closely, familiarity dawning on you at the tune.

“Is that The Paper Kites?” You asked, a smile forming on your face.

Hyunjin looked up from his task with a look of surprise. “You know them?” He asked smiling.

“Mmhmm,” you responded, “I love them.”

Hyunjin closed the bag of sugar and set it aside, then handed you the little baggy he prepared for you.

“Not many people know them,” he said, “I was listening to them while I paint.”

“I didn’t know you painted.” You looked at the man in front of you with curiosity. You found yourself wanting to know more about him. He smiled and then looked down, pushing a strand of hair out of his face.

“I do,” he said, “would you like to see what I’m working on?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a smile. You set your bag of sugar down before following Hyunjin further into his house. The music became a little louder, the folk tune permeating the air the closer you got to where he paints.

Hyunjin gestured you inside a room, bowing slightly as you passed. You giggled at his chivalry, fascinated with this strange man.

Once inside, you stopped, taking in the room. It had the feel of organized chaos, sketch books and canvases littering the corners. Some canvases were blank, not yet graced with a story while others were covered in intricate, abstract designs.

In front of a large window, Hyunjin had set up shop. An easel with a large canvas perched on top sat in front of a large window, the view consisting of the expanse of trees. A little stool was present, where he created his stories little by little.

“Come, come,” Hyunjin said, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You followed him over to the canvas and gasped in awe at the picture in front of you. The picture was breathtaking, the swirls of colors blending in to create a beautiful scene. The people were drawn to embrace, the outlines of their bodies fading into the stormy background.

“It’s still a work in progress, but…yeah,” Hyunjin said.

He watched your face as you looked over his painting, your eyes roaming over each figure, each detail, analyzing his work with thoughtful eyes. You were beautiful in that moment, the sun’s rays trying to peak through the curtains he had over the window, illuminating your face and causing it to glow.

His eyes drifted to your lips, as you lightly bit them in contemplation, the flesh blanching briefly before blood flow returned, causing your lips to take a rosey tint once more.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, not wanting to disturb the calm atmosphere, your eyes searching out his.

“Thank you,” Hyunjin replied, rocking back and forth on his feet.

You both stood there in silence, neither one of you knowing what to say, the music continuing to play in the background, soft and sweet.

It doesn’t begin right away, the feeling of want. It starts softly, gently, with the beating of your heart, slowly increasing to where it feels like it will jump out of your chest. The feeling moves lower until it reaches your core, a pulsing ache in this serene moment.

There’s a shift in the air, a change. What once was calm and friendly, turns into something charged and electric, almost as if the feelings between you two are now palpable, drifting through, lightly touching and caressing your skin.

Hyunjin is nervous, never having had a beautiful girl in his home, yet alone in his most sacred space. He stands there watching, waiting, as the tension grows, the feeling growing into something large, taking over his body. He feels his cock twitch within the confines of his sweats as he watches you breathe in and out, your breasts heaving with each breath.

He’s unsure of what to say, but wonders what you will do if he leans in and presses his lips to yours, feels the softness against his own. He finds himself drifting closer to you, one step at a time, his eyes never leaving yours. He’s never felt this desire before, not with any of the few encounters he’s had. He’s nervous and scared, hoping this doesn’t backfire on him, hoping you’ll accept him.

You watch as Hyunjin walks toward you, that look in his eyes as if he’s hunting his prey, yet also with a hint of fear. He’s probably nervous of what you will do if he reaches out, touches you, caresses you. He need not worry, as you begin to move toward him, meeting him half way.

Your dripping, your arousal leaking into your panties, the wetness soaking the material through. You watch as he looks at your lips and then your eyes as if he’s seeking permission.

With a slight nod of your head, he lightly grasps your face and leans down, his breath shaky until his lips meet yours. It’s just flesh against flesh at first, both of you savoring the feel of each other, the softness of your lips pressed together.

But then it changes, as Hyunjin moves his lips against yours, softly, gently, as he pulls you closer. It goes on for a few moments more before turning more hungry, more needy as the kiss becomes more heated.

He nips your bottom lip causing you to sigh, his tongue sliding in against yours at the newfound opportunity. The kiss continues to grow more passionate, more desperate as you both take each other in, needing to be closer to each other in this moment.

You pull away out of breath, Hyunjin chasing after your lips, a whine escaping with the motion. You grin and lick your lips, before pushing him backwards, slowly, one step after the other, until his legs hit his stool, causing him to collapse onto the seat.

He stares at you with wide eyes, his chest rising and falling, watch as you sink to your knees. He can’t believe his luck, not thinking his day would take this turn.

You run your hands over his thighs, rubbing them through his pants, inching higher and higher with each repetition, getting closer to the bulge that’s forming, slowly filling out his sweats. You see a wet spot forming, causing you to smile.

You continue your assault, before reaching his covered cock, placing your hand over the hard appendage. You listen to him gasp, his eyes hooded as he gazes at you. He’s hard, unbelievably so beneath your hand. You give his cock a squeeze and shift closer so you can place your hands within the confines of his waistband.

You pull his sweats down, Hyunjin helping you by lifting his hips so you can rid him of the accursed item. You noticed he wasn’t wearing boxers, his cock slapping his belly once his sweats were out of the way.

You smirked at the information, “you naughty boy,” you cooed, as you tossed his pants away.

Hyunjin gulped at your teasing. He was turned on, as you touched him, teased him, your fingertips dancing on his skin. You touch him everywhere but where he wants it most, his pelvis becoming sticky with each passing moment as his pre-cum steadily leaks from the tip. His cock twitches whenever you move, hoping in anticipation that you’ll touch him there or even better wrap your pretty lips around his cock.

You can tell he’s at his wits end, wanting you to touch him. He’s being good for you, you notice as he sits still, clenching and unclenching his fists. You decide maybe it’s time to reward him, soothe the ache you know he’s feeling.

You clench your thighs together before leaning down to press a kiss to his tip, as Hyunjin moans above you. You press kiss after kiss on the tip, the shaft, all the way back up before taking the head between your lips. You began to suckle, your tongue darting out every now and then to press against his slit.

Hyunjin is a mess, as you take him in, the feeling of your wet, hot mouth on his cock better than anything of his wildest dreams. He, however, grips your hair and lets out the loudest moan as your mouth descends further, taking him to the hilt, his cock kissing the back of his throat.

He takes a deep breath, and then another one, willing to calm himself down and not blow his load too soon. He gazes down at you, the beautiful sight of your mouth on his cock, the spit that’s dribbling out, helping with the slide.

He’s in love with the sounds you make, the little moans that you let out, the vibration causing his cock to twitch. He’s close, embarrassingly so.

You can tell Hyunjin is close as he grips your hair harder, pushes your head down more forcefully, as you take him in again and again. Your pussy quivers in need with each twitch of his cock, your mind wandering, needing him in you.

You grasp his thighs and continue to blow him, never slowing down. It’s a messy, sloppy affair, as your spit dribbles down his shaft and into the pubic hair around his cock. You moan as he presses your head down one more time and he cums with a loud groan, rope after rope of hot cum hitting the back of your throat, flooding your mouth with the salty fluid.

After a moment, Hyunjin releases your head and you sit up, your mouth full of cum. You look him in the eyes before you swallow, Hyunjin letting out a whimper as you do so.

He watches you as he comes down from his high, watches as you stand up and back away towards the little couch he keeps in his studio. He watches as you raise the shirt over your head, a black lacy bra on display. He watches as you unclasp the bra, your pillowy tits popping out, nipples hardened and prominent. He watches as you slid your leggings and panties down your legs, a string of your arousal dripping from your soaking pussy and onto your ruined panties.

Hyunjin unconsciously licks his lips, wanting to attach them to your soaked lips in front of his view. He nearly topples over as you sit down and lean back, spreading your legs wide, your pussy on display. He nearly chokes when you spread your lips, a ‘shlick’ echoing throughout the room from your wetness.

You’re wet, unbelievably so, and you know Hyunjin loves it. You watch him as you reach your fingers down, the digits landing on your pussy. You dip them into your heat, gathering up your arousal before bringing them to your clit. You swirl them around the bud, sighs leaving your lips as you apply a little more pressure. You continue to pleasure yourself until Hyunjin jumps up, tosses his shirt off, and all but practically runs to you, dropping to his knees as he whines.

He pulls you to the edge of the couch as buries his face in your pussy, causing you to squeal at the sudden intrusion. He darts his tongue out to lick a stripe from your entrance to your clit, before sucking the bud between his plush lips. He takes you in with no mercy, grasps you tighter, harder as he eats you out like a man starved.

Your hands fly to his hair, grasping the strands as he sticks his tongue into your wet heat, fucking your walls with the muscle. You cry out as he massages you, pushing him further into your sopping pussy as his nose brushes against your clit, the stimulation causing shivers to run down your spine.

You feel on fire, warmth expanding and spreading throughout your body, your toes curling, as he makes out with your delicate flower. Your moans increase in intensity, your voice rings out as you let go, releasing your arousal all over Hyunjin’s face. He steadily drinks you in, lapping up every drop as it gushing from your core.

Hyunjin groans as he tastes you, as he becomes obsessed with how you spill on his tongue. He doesn’t let up, not for a moment, even when you squirm and mewl in overstimulation. He revels in how you grip his hair, how the pain shoots through him with each tug, the sensation traveling to his cock, causing it to harden even further.

He finally pulls away, his face smothered in your arousal, the fluid glistening on his lips, his chin, his nose. He swipes his tongue over his bottom lip, savoring the taste of you as he watches you, watches your tits rise and fall with each breath, the look of infatuation on your face. He doesn’t wipe the rest of his face, no, he wants you to taste yourself on him, so you can savor the taste just as he did.

You watch as Hyunjin stands, and strokes his cock, wet sounds permeating the air with each pass. He shuffles closer to you, cock in hand as he gazes at your pussy, watching as it clenches over nothing, your cream oozing out, down your ass and onto his couch below.

He pulls his eyes away and looks into yours before asking “can I?”

You smile at him and beckon him forward, holding your legs open in invitation. He steps forward and taps your pussy with his cock, causing you both to moan at the sound, how wet you are for him, this man you’ve just met.

You sigh as he runs his cock through your folds before his tip catches at your entrance. He slowly pushes his cock in, your walls accommodating to the stretch. Inch by inch he pushes, until his cock is sheathed fully within you, snug within your walls. He stills and looks down at you, his eyes full of lust. You both breathe in tandem until you signal for him to move.

Hyunjin feels at home, sheathed between your warmth, as if his cock was made to be buried within your walls. He takes a deep breath and with your ok slides his cock out until the tip is almost out before sliding back in. He thrusts again and again before speeding up, the feeling of ecstasy spreading throughout his body.

You both are a mess as you both moan and clutch onto each other more, trying to get as close as possible as he thrusts his cock within you. You play with his ponytail, your fingers running through the strands as Hyunjin buries his face in your neck, letting out a whine.

He’s desperate for your pussy, his mind a jumbled mess as you suck him in over and over. He’s desperate in the sound it makes, talking back to him with each glide. He sits up so he can look, watch his cock stretch your walls and what he’s met with almost makes him blow his load.

His cock is coated in white, coated in your arousal. He’s in a trance as he watches his pelvis meet yours, your cream coating the hair donning his pelvis, the ‘shlick’ sound it makes as he withdraws. He’s in disbelief as your little hole stretches around his cock, his ego soaring that you take him so well.

He snaps out of his trance when he watches you reach down, your fingers playing with your clit, smearing your arousal around. He watches as you mewl, your other hand coming up to play with your tits, pinching, grasping, massaging the flesh.

He feels his cock swell with each passing moment, feels it twitch each time you clench down on him. He looks into your eyes and mutters the words that leads to both of your undoings.

“Cum with me princess.”

You squirt all over his cock, your release covering his cock, coating your thighs and drips down your ass. You moan out as Hyunjin stills, his cock twitching within, his cum painting your walls white. He fills you, thrusting a few more times for good measure before withdrawing his cock.

You watch as he kneels down once more and licks up both of your release, making sure not to leave a drop before standing up and connecting your lips with his. He pushes his cum mixed with your slick onto your tongue, as he groans deeply.

Hyunjin pulls back and stares at you, “go ahead and swallow princess,” he coos.

You do as you’re told, the mixture of salty with a bit of sweet sliding down your throat. You open your mouth afterwards, Hyunjin smiling.

“Wait here,” he mutters before grabbing his sweats and pulling them on.

You watch as he leaves the room. You didn’t have to wait long, as he comes back with a towel to clean you up. He’s soft and gentle, ensuring to clean every sticky drop up before helping you sit up.

You grin as he helps you get dressed before he sits on the ground, placing his head in your lap.

You smile down at your neighbor, cradling his face. His eyes say it all, will he see you again, will he get to feel you again. You reassure him with a look of your own, not wanting to disturb the silence of the moment.

You’re glad you didn’t go to the store to get the ingredient you needed, happy you decided to trust your neighbor to have it in his home. After all, a little sugar can go a long way.

Taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght

#stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #skz smut #skz x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids fanfic #hyunjin fanfic #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios

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lex-the-flex · 5 months ago

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Come Back to Me

Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warning(s): Basically porn with little plot. MEGA FLUFF, MEGA ANGST, MAJOR SADNESS + talks of character death, SMUT – 18+ oral (f! receiving), and precious aftercare + pillow talk.

A/N: No thoughts, just grieving smut with Jace. This CHOKEHOLD this character has on me and we’re only one episode into Season 2. I don’t know if I’ll continue to write for Jace, just wanted to share this idea.

He couldn't breathe no matter how hard he tried. The air just refused to enter and fill his lungs as the overwhelming scents of salt and snow continue to remain in his crimson cloak.

You somehow manage to take away all the pain and sadness of grief just by standing beside him. Joining Jacaerys Velaryon on the balcony of your shared room, he just can’t wrap his mind around a calm state amidst the chaos. Briefly touching his shoulder, a long awaited sigh of relief escapes his lips.

“You okay?” You ask.

“I’m fine.” He lies, turning to face you.

Leaning his forehead against your own, the overpowering scent of sea salt and the faint smell of lilies lingers on your skin.

Wrapping his arms around your frame, Jace holds you tight, never wanting to let go. Relishing in your presence, an unwelcome wave of emotions crosses over Jace. Something wild, yet filled with sadness takes over him almost instantly. However, instead of shedding tears, he acts on the other side of what he’s feeling. Jace slowly guides his lips against your earlobe, nipping at the sensitive skin.

“You truly are my guiding light in this world, Y/N. You are the one that I was thinking about when I was riding Bermax home. To have my lips on yours and my thoughts at the door while being lost in you. I want to fuck you until you scream so the whole Palace can hear. To let them know you’re mine.” Jace explains, pulling you closer.

Feeling your breath hitching in the back of your throat, Jace nibbles on your neck, and you surround your arms around his broad shoulders. Picking you up in a swift motion, Jace captures his lips on yours before walking back into the dark room.

Collapsing with the large desk, Jace gently sits you down, his dark brown orbs staring into your own, eager with lust.

“Enlighten me, my Prince. Let me know what’s going on in that beautiful mind of yours.” You say, gasping as Jace unties the sash of your trousers.

Smirking in delight, Jace carefully undos the straps of your heels, and slides your trousers down your legs. Basking in your body, his once boyish eyes light up with a devilish intent.

“By the Gods… so sweet for me.” He states.

Running a series of hungry kisses along your legs, you uncontrollably shiver at the sensation. Gripping your hips in his fingers, Jace teases yours throbbing folds with his tongue, knowing how to get you numb.

“That’s my girl.” Jace whispers into your skin.

Closing his mouth around your entrance, Jace props your leg around his shoulder. Swirling his tongue past your opening, a ragged moan escapes your lips, and you run your fingers through his dark locks. Feeling your pulse rise in your fingertips, a strong growl emanates from Jace’s chest, allowing his hunger for your lust to break the very windows of the room.

Leaning your head back, multiple multicolored stars fill the darkness behind your closed lids. Briefly moving your hips against the wooden table, a tingling sensation starts to rise in your core, signaling that you’re reaching your end.

“Jace, please. I can’t…” You beg, scrunching Jace’s dark curls in your fingers.

Reaching up to cup your breast, Jace continues to venture deeper inside of you, determined to taste every inch of you. Suddenly, your legs spasm and you quickly reach your end.

“…Jacaerys…!” You gasp, not caring if anyone hears you.

Jace’s grip around your hips loosens and he crawls up your body, cocooning your shaking form in his arms. Burying your face in his neck, the collective scents of Vermax, water lilies, and the vast ocean being a wonderful distraction from the events going on outside your room.

Gazing at Jace, the two of you erupt in a small moment of laughter and delightful smiles that felt long overdue. Running your fingers through Jace’s locks, you bring his chin up to face you.

“I love you, Jace. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.” You address, tracing the outline of his strong face.

“And I you.” He vows, covering you with his cloak.

a/n pt. two ~ oml this man.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon fanfic #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #hotd jacaerys #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacaerys x you #jacareys x y/n #jacareys fic #jacareys velaryon smut #harry collett #george rr martin #game of thrones

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whiskeyskin · 9 months ago

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Love and Longing

Premise: When Elminster delivers Mystra's blessing to reprieve Gale from the Orb's volitile nature, there's a certain something he's been denying himself for over a year and he's finally alone in his tent 👀🍆💦

• Gale x gn!tav • 18+ �� E/M Rating

Gale's POV, reader referred as "you", no mention of specific pronouns or genitals, porn without plot, male masturbation, fantasising, oral both recieving, penetration, jealousy, love, longing, horny!gale, fluff, lemons, Astarion x gn!tav referenced, marking if you squint

1.9k words

Gods bless you @wizardblood for this gifset we gladly receive 🥵✨

Part 2 here, if you like that sort of thing?

A/N: Y'all are making me UGLY CRYY WITH JOY AT THESE LOVELY COMMENTS 😭😭😚😚 Thank you for over 800 notes!! You beautiful, thirsty creatures 😏💜

A/N: 1k NOTES?! 🥹🥹 I love each and every SINGLE one of you 😚✨

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Gale looked down at the solid protrusion currently causing his bedroll to tent, attempting to keep his breathing even.

It had been what felt like an age since he'd allowed himself to indulge in arousal.

He lay under the blankets, naked as a babe, anticipation crackling in the air around him.

After removing the charm on his underwear to suppress such feelings, it had all come flooding back.

Especially with you around.

His attraction to you was undeniable, however much he thought it impossible; especially after his heartbreak with Mystra. Nevertheless, his feelings for you grew with each step you took, every kind word and all the good you sought to accomplish.

You'd spoken in his defense passionately when Elminster had delivered Mystra's word; the fire in your heart had rivalled that of Karlach.

You'd vowed that there was another way to be found. That you wouldn't allow him to sacrifice himself.

And he loved you for it.

Gods dammit, he did.

He'd fallen hard for you.

He tried to deny it, of course.

It wouldn't lead anywhere.

He had to die.

It was his destiny to end the Absolute, whatever the cost.

No matter stolen glances across the campfire. Ignoring the heated moment of magic between you, where you'd shown him how you felt for him.

Besides, you'd taken Astarion to bed multiple times since the Tiefling party. He couldn't compete with the sultry advances of the Pale Elf.

His paultry offerings of affection wouldn't stand a chance.

But still, a part of him envisioned what life could be like if it was spent by your side.

Hearth crackling, the day's sun swooping low in the sky across the water, two arm chairs and a bottle of wine.. candle light and the smell of strawberries, sweat and arousal. The sound of your voice against his ear, the feeling of your wet, ribbed warmth welcoming him home after a long and stressful day.

Gale licked his bottom lip, his breathing heavy. He reached a hand under the sheets, in the privacy of his tent, to indulge in thoughts of you.

Gods, he wanted to use his mouth on you, he wanted to drown in your heady scent. He would press kisses against your inner thighs, teasing and tormenting, languishing tongue and teeth.

Your unfettered arousal evident before him as he would glide his mouth up your sex, tasting your sweetness and salt. You'd moan his name and wind a fist into his hair, sending sparks through his scalp.

He took the tip of himself in his first fingers, pre-cum had already gathered between the slit and dripped onto his stomach.

Taking a deep breath, he began to gently pulse the head. He hissed as blinding pleasure seared across his vision and sunk low in his belly.

"Ahhh.." he exhaled, with a widening, sinful grin.

Finally, he could touch himself after all these months.

He gritted his teeth against another groan that tried to escape. The sensation of oanism foreign to him but welcome, thoughts of you flooding his mind, as he fell into an old, familiar rhythm.

Oh, you would moan so sweetly underneath him, as he filled you to the brim with his cock. You'd envelop him to the root, sensually clenching your walls around his girth.

Gale replicated the feeling by adding a second hand to squeeze, imagining you enveloping him.

He moved slow and deliberate, like you were taking him for the first time. Every rib of his fingers torture against his sensitive flesh. He pumped his hands in unison, along the thick, veined length of himself, building up the pressure constricting his erection, increasing the speed and fantasizing that he was entangled in your loving embrace.

He'd hold your legs aloft, parted just for him. You'd bray like a wild animal in heat, with the need for his throbbing length to ride you to climax.

One hand clumsily slid to cup his testicles, to massage them and drive him closer to the edge. His hips gyrated at nothing, rutting against the thought of you.

You'd climb to take control and ride him like a stallion through the night. He would hear the salacious slapping of your cheeks against his hips, as he'd watch you bounce yourself in wanton bliss.

He'd hold on to your waist, fingertips digging in hard enough to cause contusions.

He wanted to bruise you, claim you as his own. He wanted to sucker his ownership right over Astarion's bite marks.

He had no right to this ugly and repulsive feeling of jealousy, he knew this.. but he couldn't help himself.

They both vied for your attention and he couldn't stand that Astarion had tasted you when he hadn't.

He wanted to hear your cries as he fucked up into you, slamming your hips down on him harder. Gods, he wanted his name on your lips.

Gale licked the sweat gathering on his top lip; he imagined it was you tasting him.

He fantasied about you using your beautiful mouth on him. You'd cover his body in long, wet, trailing kisses before you'd take him in your mouth. You'd gorge on his cock until he couldn't breathe. Your skillful tongue needy to please him. Your hands wielding a very different kind of weapon, sheathing it entirely down your spectacular throat.

You'd look up at him through lidded gaze, his hard length completely engulfed. The contact would be searing, it would burn him to the spot, it would ignite his soul and turn him to willingly to ash.

There would be love and devotion in your eyes, blissful happiness in your heart.

Gale swallowed and shook his head from side to side.

He wanted to see you.

Wanted you to see him.

See him like this for you.

Helpless and desperate for just a moment of you.

He wanted you to look at him with adoring eyes that turn lustful, when you see him abusing himself, with your name on his lips.

Gale uttered the illusion cantrip and you appeared on your knees beside him. He gasped and smiled brightly at you. He knew it wasn't real but gods he wanted it to be.

You smiled back at him, infatuation shining in your eyes.

"Gale.." softly came the only word he'd been able to summon you to utter. It was warped but it was still your voice. It was still you.

He threw back the covers so you could see him. See all of him. Naked. So you could drink in the sight of him stroking his thick, alert and wanting cock to the thought of you.

"It's for you. Only for you. Going to come for you-just for you." He managed, his voice husky from lust.

"Gale.." You whispered, licking your lower lip and gliding your hands up your strong thighs. You cup yourself through your camp garb and palm yourself in circles, "Gale.." you moan, throwing your head back slightly as you ground against your hand.

His hips twitched unconsciously at seeing your image pleasuring yourself for his enjoyment. That you felt this joy together.

A rumble started to build behind his cock, it tightened around his belly and coiled itself around his legs. It rose through his chest, painfully electrifying his nipples to stiff points, as it wound it's way to the base of his skull. There it gripped him, held him, allowed him to go no further.

He whined in frustration. Gods he wanted to come, it had been so long, so very long.

"Gale..?" Came your voice, he looked at you and his stomach flipped uncomfortably in desire.

You looked spectacular; hair mussed, eyes glassy and wide, lips pink and swollen from lust. Still touching yourself through your clothes, rocking vigorously against the friction.

You placed a hand on your heart and threw your head back in ecstasy. His body began to violently tremble in anticipation.

Oh gods, you looked resplendent on the precipice of orgasm.

"Gale!" You whimpered, sweat glistening on your skin, "Gale.. Gale.. Gale.." you moaned between breaths, your image replicating the noises he'd overheard when you'd snuck into the forest, and committed to memory. The reckless abandon of your heady moans of pleasure. Your face tightened and released, your mouth falling open to gasp.

The desire at the back of his head suddenly pulled taut, every muscle strained, pressure swelling behind his erection. His eyes rolled back in his head, before he came undone.

He jerked and thrashed on his bedroll, trying and failing to keep his ministrations to himself. Thick spurts of cum shot over his stomach, chest and neck, as he came hard for you.

"For you-all for you-only for you." He whimpered, his jaw tense, teeth bared.

He pumped raggedly, squeezing every single drop of his seed from himself. It was almost to the point of pain but the pleasure balanced it perfectly to make the suffering delicious. His muscles seized and toes curled to their fullest extent, as he huffed out a breath and lay feeling weightless on the carpeted interior of his tent.

Gale lay there breathing heavily, sweat damp on his brow. His softening cock still pulsating with after effects, within his loose grasp, as his brain buzzed with static.

His heart felt twice it's size and his entire being was in total elated relaxation, with a doltish smile plastered across his face.

He could quite happily lay like this forever.

It had been so long.

He couldn't remember release being like this.

It was.. dizzying.. violent.. euphoric.. transcendent.. monumentous..

sticky..

cold..

uncomfortable..

"Oh no." Gale groaned, as he looked down on his masterpiece.

Your image had disappeared; there was no way he couldn't have concentrated through that kind of orgasm, even if his life depended on it.. and Mystra's eyelids, the mess he'd made of himself.

His cum lay heavy on his stomach and chest, spattered up to his neck and jaw. Hells, it was even on the floor!

He internally grumbled to himself.

This was the not so fun part of masturbation.

The sharp thud back to reality and the clean up.

He sighed. Well, that was short lived.

Lucky for a Wizard, clearing away the stains of his growing shame, was painless.

Gale waved his hand and the evidence of his debauchery disappeared.

He suddenly felt empty and hollow. The euphoria of release gone all too soon. Slumping back on to his bedroll and bringing the covers up against the chill, he frowned to himself, a cavernous feeling in his chest.

Gale waved his hand, using his last spell slot to conjure your image again.

You appeared laid down with him, tucked closely, your stunning eyes soft and content.

His heart ached; he wanted this.

It didn't matter how much he denied it, he knew what love felt like in the beginning and this was it.

This wasn't because of a covetous, lustful haze from the urgency of ejaculation.

It was comfort.

It was safety.

It was love.

And it terrified him.

More than the thought of ending as a small blip in the farest reaches of the realm. More than dying alone in excruciating agony.

Falling in love with you scared him because it meant that now, he had something to live for.

You smiled sleepily at him and readjusted yourself to get comfortable beside him.

"Night." You whispered, blowing him a slow kiss, closed your eyes and curled in nearer to him.

He stared longingly at your resting form; you looked so peaceful. Wet stinging burned his eyes and he sniffed dryly.

He needed to get to sleep.

He really should..

You'd only last a minute.

He couldn't bare the thought of opening his eyes again without you there, laying beside him..

Tears fell from his eyes and dripped to his pillow, as he shut them tight, "Goodnight, my love."

•°•°•

Part 2

Or.. I've got a Masterlist.. yuh know.. if you like this sort of stuff 👀😏

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale x tav #baldurs gate gale #gale x gn!tav #gale x reader #gale x you #gale smut #astarion x gn!tav #astarion x gale x tav #whiskeyskin

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lightandfellowship · 6 months ago

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This is kind of difficult to describe, but I really love how Kingdom Hearts uses iconic objects as shorthand for conveying a specific meaning, emotion, idea, plot point, or character relationship.

The paopu fruit. The wooden sword. Kairi's lucky charm. Namine's star charm. The memory pods. The colored orbs from the Struggle trophy. Sea-salt ice cream. Olette's hand-made munny pouch. Kairi's message in a bottle. The sea shells Xion and Roxas gave to each other. The WINNER stick. Terra's wooden training Keyblade. The wayfinder charms. Etc.

Like, there's a reason why so many of these items feature heavily in fanart, you take one look at these items and go "Oh, I know exactly what this symbolizes!"

#rambling about kh

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sorceresssundries · 4 months ago

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Of Pain and Pleasure

Warnings: Talk of chronic pain. Masturbation.

Length: 2.5k of self-indulgence.

Summary: A wizard cursed with a volatile, dark magic discovers that his growing sexual frustration is making the Netherese orb embedded in his chest more painful and unstable. How does he deal with this issue? By having a wank, obviously!

The once-charmed locket lay useless and stripped in the dew-damp grass. The usual feeling of relief—a fire smothered and a hunger sated—was absent. The Netherese flames still licked at him, his breathing not yet back to its natural rhythm, and his ribs felt as though they were stretched and warped around something too big for them to hold. They were. The pain was too big for his flimsy mortal bones to contain.

Panic began to mix with the dull, pulsing ache, making it worse. Any kind of spiral, any desperate feeling that tightened his chest, slipped down into the relentless pit and antagonised the gluttonous curse that was settled there. The tendrils of the orb had not only marked his skin but coiled their way around his nerves, fraying and gnawing. They wrapped around him so intently that he could no longer tell which hunger was his and which belonged to the orb.

Count, he thought to himself between audible, struggling breaths. You have to count.

He imagined climbing the stairs of the tower, with morning light spilling over the walls as Tara’s soft pawprints padded along beside him. One step at a time.

He imagined picking up a book he had the luxury of lazily savouring by the fire on a rainy day, feeling the thrum of pages against his fingers, counting each one until he found where he left off. One page at a time.

He counted the times Tav had touched him. Seventeen. There had been seventeen touches. The last time was when she had taken his hand for no other reason than that she thought he needed it. He had. He always needed it. He had wanted to raise her hand to his lips and brush his mouth against her bloodied knuckles. He craved her touch like a bare branch craves spring.

The yawning ache stretched itself out again, threatening him, pressing the jagged edges against his lungs until each breath felt like it would split him open.

Okay… bad… not helping.

At first, he had been confused - he had spent over a year in his tower absorbing slivers of weave from various magical items, and it had been enough. He could live a relatively normal, albeit isolated, life. The pain would arrive every now again like a familiar stranger and he would be able to keep it at bay, there were rules it obeyed and patterns it followed.

Then he met Tav...

He thought of her smile, and another flame licked at his insides. The realisation struck him like a blow: it was his hunger for Tav that was making the orb unstable. His discontent, his desperation for her, was becoming dangerous. The orb’s power wasn’t growing stronger—his resolve was crumbling. The barriers he had erected to contain the orb’s influence were weakening. His control was slipping through his fingers, and the terrifying truth was that he didn’t know how to stop it.

He hurt pretty much all the time now, but the greatest ache of all was from not touching Tav the way he wanted to. The ache of not peeling each piece of her sweat-soaked, blood-spattered clothes from her and kissing his way across every inch of her skin. He wanted to find each and every scar that flecked her skin, pale and iridescent like the inside of a salt-licked seashell. He wanted to lose himself in each hidden, secret place. The restraint of keeping himself from her was becoming too tight, too choking. His desperation stoked the already barely contained fire within him, threatening to burn him from the inside out, reducing him to nothing more than flecks of weave-tainted ash—and a crater the size of a city.

A few hours ago, with the dregs of adrenaline from a fierce fight still swirling through their systems, she had removed her shirt in front of him. and used it to wipe sweat and blood from her skin before dunking it in the river to clean. She had caught him staring at her, topless and unabashed. Why should she care? They were soldiers, not etiquette-bound nobles. But gods, the sight of her… Another wave of pain rocked him.

Something would have to be done.

He managed to stumble his way back to his tent without attracting any attention. It was late, and most were still in bed or out hunting. The camp was quiet, the darkness a blanket that shielded him from prying eyes. Once inside, he collapsed onto his bedroll, finally giving the pain the attention it craved. Instead of pushing it down as he usually did, he let himself sink into it, hoping that by opening the door and inviting it in, the pain would take up residence for a while and then, having exhausted its welcome, eventually leave. It was a gamble, a desperate hope that by embracing the torment, he could somehow hasten its departure. But it didn’t seem to work. His thoughts kept drifting back to Tav, and his need for her was an ember that kept the pain simmering and spitting.

He lay there, hurting, and considered his options.

He could leave and eradicate the threat of harming everyone around him. But what would come first—the orb detonating or ceremorphosis? He couldn’t risk becoming a mind flayer with all that raw, destructive power nestled within him, waiting to be unleashed. God knows what kind of monster he would become, what horrors he might commit with such power at his disposal.

He could tell her? What if he confessed how much he wanted her, how every time he heard her laugh it was like a wave of pleasure sinking under his skin and rolling down his spine? She would be kind about it, he was certain. But would it be more painful to be open with his feelings and have them unreciprocated? To be both desperate and embarrassed? That could make things worse, he realised with a painful twinge. He could become the wizard who literally blew up from rejection. Not exactly how he imagined his legacy.

But what if she wanted him too? What if those moments when he felt her eyes on him were not from judgement, but from desire? He thought back to the magic lesson they had shared. It wasn’t what he had expected—just a few minutes where her scent and the sound of her rapid breathing danced in the air alongside the weave. Two opposing forces mingling and crackling around him, skimming across his skin in electrifying waves. Threads and caresses of purple and green, the scent of rosewater mingling with the spiced cinnamon that filled his lungs like warm cider on a cold midwinter night in Waterdeep. He had wanted to reach out, to slot his aching, starved fingers between hers. He wanted to feel warm again, to be warmed in the way only another person could offer.

Then, an image of a kiss slipped into his thoughts—simple and electric. She was thinking of kissing him, and he could almost feel the feather-light brush of her lips against his. The thought of kissing her back, of letting their fantasies intertwine so vividly that it was impossible to tell who was leading, filled him with a desperate longing. But as the desire for it to go further awoke within him, so did the pain. Doubts crept in, whispering that it was nothing more than a fleeting moment, two people getting carried away.

The magic extinguished, the weave unravelled, and the sweetness died.

“How easily things slip away from us,” he had lamented, before bidding her goodnight and leaving in pain and embarrassment.

Now, he sighed as he thought of all the ways he wanted to touch her. His hand lay flat against the skin of his abdomen, and he closed his eyes, trying to imagine that the weight and warmth of his hand were hers.

Every time she offered him a smile, he ached to kiss it, to taste the joy that bubbled up from within her. Yes, she was beautiful, with hips that swayed like music and eyes that contained entire universes, but it was her mind that truly captivated him. The quick, sharp bite of her wit, the effortless way she dispensed kindness… It wasn’t just that he wanted to touch her—Gods, how he wanted to touch her—but he longed to know her, completely.

The pain blazed and the orb glowed in warning, but… perhaps… if he were slow and cautious…

The ache of his erection was tormenting him. It had been so long since he had pleasured himself, since he had even allowed himself to consider it... His need had been buried under layers of control and discipline, suppressed by the fear of what might happen if he let go. But now, that control was slipping, overshadowed by his longing for her. He wondered if indulging, even for just a moment, might offer some relief—even if only briefly.

He settled himself, letting out a slow, measured breath as his fingers traced across the soft skin of his navel, following the line of dark hair down to where he was rock hard. At first, he held himself gently, the sensation unfamiliar and almost foreign after so long. But it wasn’t long before the softness gave way to urgency, his hand gripping more tightly as he began to move his hips into his own grasp. The thought of Tav pleasuring him like this was too delicious to be subtle, and the fantasy burned bright in his mind.

He imagined drawing sounds from her that no one else had ever heard, sounds she herself didn’t even know she was capable of making. The thought of it sent shivers down his spine. and he began to stroke himself faster as he envisioned her losing herself to the waves of pleasure he would bring. Her taut, practised muscles losing control as they wrapped around his head, her body writhing with each flick of his tongue.

In his fantasy, he saw himself having to be more and more forceful to keep her still, his hands gripping her hips as his tongue pressed and stroked, building her up only to make her fall apart. He wanted to unravel her, to take her to heights she had never imagined. He audibly moaned as he imagined the sounds she would make, the way her body would respond to his touch. The thought of her yielding to him, of her body quaking with ecstasy, was almost more than he could bear.

He stopped himself before he came, not wanting the fantasy to end. He was desperately close, and already leaking. He wanted to make the most of this time with Tav, even if it was only in his own head. The pain was still there, but he paid it very little attention.

It had been such a long time since he had luxuriated in the raw, primal pleasures of mortal sexuality with another person—the slick sheen of sweat on skin, the burn of stretched muscles, the sound of uncontrollable lust released in ragged, blissed-out breaths. Yes, the merging of souls and the celestial sharing of pleasure was an experience beyond compare, a union that transcended the physical, but it never quite sated the hunger that still burned within him, a hunger that was flesh-bound and raw. He was a chosen, a prodigy of magic, an illusionist of unparalleled skill. He could bend reality to his will and conjure wonders from thin air. But, he was also a man. A man who now lay in the dark solitude of his tent, his hand wrapped tightly around his hard, leaking cock, aching for the very human experience of sinking into Tav’s eager cunt.

His breath quickened as he stroked himself again, and In the quiet darkness of the tent, he surrendered to the fantasy, his mind painting vivid images of Tav’s body arching beneath him, her legs wrapped around his waist, her fingers digging into his back as he thrust into her with a fervour that bordered on desperation. He could almost taste the salt of her skin, almost feel the quiver of her thighs as she reached the peak of her pleasure.

He was a master of illusions, but this—this was no illusion. It was a deep, salacious desire that nothing could dispel. And as he lay there, his hand moving faster, his breath coming in ragged gasps, he knew that no amount of magic could satisfy the longing he felt for her. He needed her in a way that was as ancient and undeniable as the stars themselves.

As his pleasure built, his pain receded. It was becoming nothing more than a background pulse to the roar of his fantasy. Nothing else mattered at that moment. All he knew was Tav. He lost himself, letting himself be carried away to another place, where pleasure eclipsed pain, and desire became the only reality.

He was the orb, and her touch were the slivers of magic he needed to keep himself together.

He imagined her gasping out his name in pure, undiluted pleasure and it sent him crashing over the precipice. He choked out breaths as he came, imagining he was spilling inside her cunt or down her throat.

He lay there, spent and mellow in his post-orgasmic state, waiting for the inevitable return of the pain. He braced himself, expecting the familiar surge of agony to claw its way back, to push into his ribs and split him apart once more. But... it didn’t. The hurt was still there, a steady throb beneath his skin, but it was different now—muted, like a muffled voice through a wall rather than the blaring, all-consuming force it had been.

He exhaled, more content now that he had allowed himself some release. The tension that had coiled so tightly within him had eased, and even the orb seemed to sense his momentary peace, its energy dimming as if it, too, had curled up for the night.

"Oh Gods," he thought, the embarrassment flooding in like a tide. He turned over, pressing his face into his pillow, his cheeks burning with shame. Was this really what it would take to keep the pain at bay?

An orgasm?! Was that the solution he had been desperately seeking? The idea was almost too absurd to entertain, yet the evidence lay in the calm that now settled over him. He couldn’t allow this to be the answer.

An alternative had to be found, and quickly.

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #gale of waterdeep #gale fanfiction #Gale NSFT

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