#satin in candlelight

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Beneath a Dragon's Gaze

Summary: With Madame Sylvi indisposed on the evening Prince Aemond comes to visit, he requests someone different | Word Count: 1.7k~ | Warnings: sex work, smut, hair pulling, biting, titty sucking, darkish Aemond

A/N: saw ep 3 and felt silly 😁 not proofread an inch

“The Prince has asked for you.”

She could not help the wide-eyed look and the familiar flipping of her stomach, now feeling entirely different with the words that had come from her fellow woman’s lips. The Prince. Well, it could have meant either of them only weeks before, but no longer. They frequented this establishment quite often, as an upper-class brothel, with only the finest whores and service, it was only natural, and they had the coin to pay for it.

Suddenly, she felt quite cold in the sheer dress she had chosen that evening, doing very little to conceal the flesh that hid beneath, her nipples having formed peaks against the satin. What could she possibly say to that? There was no possibility of refusing. 

“Very well,” she responded, knowing it was not her place to question. There was no question as to which now, it was most certainly the very same who frequented for the warm embrace and soothing voice of Madame Sylvi, who spent hours in her company and paid her a hefty price for it. For secrecy. But she knew just as well that the only reason Aemond had requested her instead, was because on this night, his usual appointment was indisposed. 

Her heart raced as she slalomed through the scantily clad crowd, each step bringing her closer to the corner where the prince awaited. The halls were dimly lit, the soft glow of candlelight casting flickering shadows that danced along the walls, alongside those of curved figures, twisted with pleasure. She could hear the muted sounds of such from the other rooms, but they did little to quell the nervousness that gripped her.

When she reached the curtain, she paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself. The Prince. Aemond Targaryen. Known for his fierce demeanour and sharp intellect, he was not a man to be trifled with. Yet, beneath that cold exterior, she had heard whispers of a man burdened by the weight of his family.

Sliding the curtain across, met with the Prince, eyepatch already discarded and down only to his breeches, sat with cup in hand on the plush settee, his lone eye raising to her as she dipped for a curtsy. She felt her throat close at the sight of the sapphire, somewhat mirroring what was happening between her thighs.

"Madame Sylvi sends her apologies, my prince. She is unable to attend to you this evening."

Aemond's gaze lingered on her for a moment, and she felt her cheeks flush under his scrutiny. "I did not call for Sylvi tonight," he said finally, his tone giving nothing away. "I called for you."

Her lips parted to question. But she dare not let the words free. She was not one to ask about his intentions, a mere whore.

“Undress.”

The Prince’s eye never wavered as he watched, flesh revealed as she bared herself to him. He stood as if uncurling himself, finishing what was left in his cup before moving his hands to unlace his breeches, his head gesturing to the settee.

“Get on your hands and knees.”

His commanding tone made those flutters awaken once more. She had been employed at this establishment for so long, of course being naked and bared to an abundance of men was second nature. But there was something about the way he wanted her, the way it seemed not spurred by desire of any kind, but a need, like air, that ignited her nerves that she had not felt since her first few days in this line of work.

Still, bare arsed and exposed to a Prince, was a different matter entirely.

She felt his presence behind her, knowing he was naked as his thighs brushed against hers. He nudged her knees apart and pushed gently on her spine, encouraging her to arch her back. Though she could not see his face, the rippled design of the copper in front of her reflected enough for her to sense the detachment in his actions. So, she remained silent.

Prince Aemond guided himself to her centre, barely wet, and pushed his cockhead inside. He had barely breached her when his hands gripped the flesh of her buttocks, watching intently as his cock slowly slid deeper into her cunt, being swallowed by her body. She closed her eyes, the lack of preparation making the act more uncomfortable than pleasurable, but she hoped that with time, her arousal would ease the discomfort.

As Prince Aemond continued to push himself inside her, she focused on her breathing, trying to relax her body and ease the discomfort. The room was silent except for their breaths, the flickering candlelight casting shadows that danced on the walls. Each inch he gained felt like a stretch, a challenge to her body's readiness, but she bit her lip, determined to endure.

His hands, firm on her buttocks, began to knead her flesh, his grip alternating between gentle caresses and possessive squeezes. The friction built steadily, her body slowly acclimating to his presence. The initial pain started to fade, replaced by a growing warmth and the stirrings of pleasure.

Aemond moved with a deliberate pace, his thrusts measured and controlled. He seemed intent on watching every inch of his cock as it disappeared inside her, his breathing heavy and laboured. She could feel his intensity, the way he held back his own urges to maintain that slow, torturous rhythm.

Despite the initial discomfort, her arousal began to build. Her body responded to his movements, her inner walls slickening and accommodating his length with increasing ease. Soft moans escaped her lips, unbidden but honest, as pleasure began to mix with the remnants of pain.

Aemond's hands slid from her buttocks to her hips, pulling her back against him with each thrust. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, hitting spots inside her that sent jolts of pleasure through her body. Her fingers clenched the sheets beneath her, seeking some anchor as the sensations intensified.

He leaned forward, his breath hot against her ear. "Do you feel that?" he murmured, his voice husky and edged with restraint. "Do you feel how you take me in?"

"Yes, my prince," she gasped, her voice trembling with the effort to maintain composure. "I feel it."

Aemond's pace quickened slightly, his control slipping as his own desire took precedence. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, a rhythmic, primal music that spoke of need and release. Her moans grew louder, her body arching and pushing to meet his thrusts, seeking the pleasure that now consumed her.

With a sudden, possessive grip, Aemond's hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back to expose her neck. His lips found her skin, teeth grazing lightly before he bit down, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to claim. The sensation sent a shiver down her spine, her body responding with an involuntary clench around his cock.

He groaned against her neck, the sound vibrating through her. "Take me, all of me," he whispered, his voice filled with approval and satisfaction. 

She surrendered to the sensations, her body melting into his as pleasure overwhelmed her. Every thrust, every touch, every whispered word from Aemond drove her closer to the edge. The discomfort was a distant memory now, replaced by a wave of ecstasy that built with each passing second. His movements so erratic, his stones clapped against her womanhood with every harsh push, slapping against her bud in a steady, unyielding rhythm.

The sensation pushed her over the edge, her own climax washing over her in a powerful, all-consuming wave. She cried out, her body convulsing around him, every nerve ending alight with pleasure. Finally, with a deep, guttural moan, Aemond drove himself to the hilt inside her once more, his body shuddering and then withdrawing quickly as he found his release and coated her buttocks and thighs with his pearly spend.

They stayed like that for a moment, both catching their breath, their bodies still joined. Slowly, Aemond released his grip on her hair and hips, his hands soothing over the marks he'd left. He pulled out of her velvety walls gently, leaving her feeling both spent and fulfilled.

She expected him to leave, to gather his clothes and slip away into the night, as most men often do with a flick of their coin into her lap. But instead, Aemond surprised her. He curled into her body, his head resting against her chest. His lips found her breast, mouthing at her skin with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the intensity of their earlier encounter. His hand moved to her other breast, caressing it with a gentle, almost reverent touch.

She looked down at him, her fingers threading through his silver, moonlit hair. He seemed to take more pleasure in this simple intimacy than she did, as if seeking comfort rather than mere satisfaction. His eyes were closed, his breathing steadying as he continued to nuzzle her chest.

"I hate it," he murmured after a long silence, his voice muffled against her skin.

She blinked, unsure of his meaning. "Hate what, my prince?"

Aemond shifted slightly, his hand stilling on her breast. "Sometimes, I think Madame Sylvi just says anything to appease me. She tells me what she thinks I want to hear, not what she truly believes."

There was a bitterness in his tone that caught her off guard. "Why do you think that?" she asked softly, her thumb stroking the back of his neck.

Aemond's grip on her breast tightened slightly, and she felt a shiver of unease. His lips brushed against her nipple, then his teeth grazed it, sending a jolt through her body. "Because it's easier for her," he said, his voice lower, more dangerous. "Because I'm a prince, and she fears offending me."

She gasped softly at the sensation, the mix of pleasure and pain reminding her of the precarious balance between comfort and control. "But you deserve honesty, my prince," she managed to say, her voice trembling.

He bit down a little harder, enough to make her wince. "Do I?" he asked, his tone a warning. "Or do I deserve the truth, no matter how it feels?"

Her heart raced, the threat in his words unmistakable. "The truth, my prince," she whispered, trying to maintain her composure. "Always the truth."

Aemond's teeth released her nipple, his tongue soothing the sting. He looked up at her, his eye fierce and unyielding. The sapphire lodged in the other piercing and dark. 

"Good," he said, his voice a soft growl. "Because I have no patience for lies, no matter how pretty they are."

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch

@castellomargot @emmaisafictionwhore @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @primonizzutto

@qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince

[emilys-bangs]

So I loved to see you are taking requests for tooth rotting fluff and I’ve been thinking, what an established relationship in which Emily gets super jealous when someone’s flirting w r and instead of being mad or sad, she just responds by getting extra touchy and really wants to make you believe that she loves you better and louder and softer than anyone else could? (You obv already know) this is super random so sorry if it’s not your vibe lol

nuisance | e.p

Tags: established relationship, fluff, jealous / possessive emily, a gross man, no use of yn, use of petnames

Word count: 0.9k

This is absolutely perfect, tysm for requesting <3

A soft laugh tumbles from your lips as Emily whispers in your ear, idly profiling the dining guests from your place at the bar. She’s standing next to you while you sit on the plush stool, two drinks in front of you as you wait to be seated.

She’s chosen the perfect place. The restaurant is lit up with the warm glow of candlelights, soft music playing over the clinks of cutlery and the hushed conversations of couples. Emily is wrapped up in a burgundy dress, the satin kissing her pale skin in a way you’re almost jealous of. Her voice is soft, her fingertips softer still as they skim your arm and leave idle goosebumps in their wake. 

You feel almost sickeningly in love; your heart is just on the cusp of racing, your cheeks heated with a warm glow at the tenderness of her attention. It’s a rare opportunity, to see her like this—dressed up and relaxed and oh so gentle, her eyes shimmering with the love you know is reflected clearly in your own face.

“And that guy,” she murmurs, subtly tilting her head to the suited man sitting in the corner, “oh, he’s a piece of work,”—you giggle and her eyes soften, her lips tilting upward in a smile—“his suit looks like Armani and that’s definitely a Rolex, so you know he’s a lawyer. Pity, their egos are sky—”

“Excuse me?” Someone interrupts. You and Emily both turn in the direction of the voice, expecting to see the hostess.

It’s not her. A man stands in front of you, the determined look on his face informing you of his intentions before he even speaks.

Emily’s arm curls around your waist. “Can we help you?” Her tone is pointed and sharp, edged with irritation you know only you can hear—apparently she sniffed him out, too.

The man ignores her. His eyes slide to you; the unabashed hunger in them makes you stifle a disgusted shiver. “Can I buy you a drink?” He leans against the bar, dragging his gaze over your body.

“I already have one.” You say flatly, “In case you didn’t see.”

“He’s too busy looking at you to notice it,” Emily’s voice turns warm as she hooks her finger under your chin and gently brings your eyes back to hers. Her fingers tighten on your waist, the darkness of her eyes as intense as a black hole as her thumb ghosts over your bottom lip. “I don’t blame him, chérie,” she breathes, her words now for you only, “have you seen yourself tonight? You’re breathtaking.” Her fingers gently rake through your hair, careful not to mess it up.

A shiver dances down your spine. Cheeks hot, you tilt your chin upward. 

Getting the hint, Emily leans in for a kiss, not before you see the smug smile on her lips. Surprisingly she’s soft, caressing your lips gently, reverently, instead of kissing you with possessive intent. Somehow it makes you love her impossibly more, and you sink further into her kiss before an annoyed ahem breaks you out of your daze.

You turn to the man with a scrunch between your brows. “You’re still here?” You ask, fighting to keep a straight face when Emily snorts. She hides the sound in your forehead, her lips gently pressing against your temple. The hand on your bare arm distracts you, and as she draws circles on your skin you barely notice the napkin that the man slides across the bar, his number written messily on it.

“If you ever change your mind from that,” he sneers at Emily, her responding scoff dripping with derision, “call me.” 

He has the audacity to smile.

Anger flares in your stomach. “Watch your fucking—”

“That’s sweet.” Emily interrupts before you throw a punch. “I don’t think you want it though, do you, amor?” She trails her knuckles down your cheek, her eyes still hot with jealousy. The low murmur of her voice almost soothes the fire in your veins.

“No.” You say, twirling your chair to properly face her. Her nimble fingers cup your jaw and you lean into her hand, raising your voice so the man can hear you. “You’ve got a lighter on you, haven’t you?”

Emily grins. The dimples in her cheeks make you smile back, even as the man sputters behind you.

“Emily Prentiss?” The hostess comes by then, giving you an apologetic smile. “Your table is ready.”

“Just in time.” Emily doesn’t spare the man another glance as she holds out her hand for you. You take it, smiling as she carefully helps you down from the stool. Her fingers thread through yours and you turn to grab your phone.

Ever in tune with you, Emily squeezes your fingers. “I’ll get it, my love.” She murmurs, grabbing your phone and hers, as well as her purse. With the barest tips of her fingers, she grabs the napkin and tosses it into your half-full wine glass as the man gawks.

You laugh softly as Emily turns and gently pulls you to your table, both of you steadfastly ignoring the hot set of eyes behind you. She drops your hand when you reach the table, only to pull out the chair for you, a sparkle in her dark eyes.

You grin at her brightly. 

Emily feigns confusion. “What?” She asks, her brow arching.

“I love you.” 

A slow smile spreads across her lips. Emily grabs your hand, gently kisses your knuckles and leaves behind traces of her lipstick. 

“I love you, too.”

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Bed Chem - Rafe Cameron One Shot

+18 Minor DNI

Older!Rafe x Female Reader

⭐ NEW DROP ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

✨bonus smut for Please Please Please - contains spoilers if you haven’t read the final chapter. No prior context needed to read this one shot only that they got engaged and are traveling to Morocco on business together. ✨

🪄 warnings: rafe and reader are wine drunk, food play, rough oral, oral (male receiving), oral (female receiving), fingering, praise, softdom!rafe, spanking, swearing, pet names, teasing, overstimulation, unprotected sex, ownership kink, creampie, cum play, cockwarming

📖 Rafe and the reader celebrate their engagement 💍

✨ "Shit..." He whispers as you taunt him, cleaning the sweetness off your fingers, slipping each one in your mouth until all that remains is your ring finger. Rafe grabs your hand fast, drawing it to his lips, sucking your finger up to the diamond. "Mrs. Cameron…" ✨

3k <- almost all smut

Reader’s POV:

"Oh fuck, baby. We have dessert." Rafe smiles as he picks you up playfully, setting you down on the kitchen counter. He saunters to the fridge, grabbing the cake before turning around, matching your eyes with a smirk. After his proposal, you were both hanging on barely, sexual tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. You cross your legs, your dress pulling up on your thigh, making Rafe chuckle lustfully. He stares back at you, walking with the dessert in hand.

“My fiancé. Fuck, I love that,” he hums as he lays the cake on the counter. His hands rest on both sides of your thighs, big forearms flexing as he tilts in for a kiss, the pair of you wine-drunk and blissfully happy—the perfect moment. Rafe’s tongue slips in your mouth, rolling slowly, letting you taste the red liquor and sweetness of his lips.

“I love it too, daddy,” you giggle breathily. “Don’t wanna wait to be your wife.”

“Morocco? I mean, unless you want somethin’ big.”

“No…” You sigh between soft kisses. “I just need you.”

“Consider it done.”

Rafe pulls back reluctantly, showing you the cake. “Our favorite,” you smile.

“Mhmm,” he hums as he sinks a fork into the decadent chocolate. "For you, pretty girl.” Rafe lifts it to your lips, feeding you, waiting for a reaction.

“Perfect," you moan.

"You're perfect,” Rafe toys as he leans in, his lips meeting your neck. Your head instantly falls back, giving him better access to your skin. He chuckles deeply, nibbling your ear lightly, teasing you before pulling away. “You a little drunk there, babydoll?” You roll your eyes and chuckle before sliding your tongue along your bottom lip, catching some chocolate lingering.

“Are you?” You smile.

He nods ‘yes’; the high points of his already flushed cheeks blush. "So, what do you think, sweetheart?" He digs his fork into the cake; eyes flickering up to yours, making your heart skip.

"About the cake?" You tease. He snorts and chuckles in reply. "I think...It’s amazing, baby. M’so excited about this,” you lift your hand, wiggling your ring finger, watching the carats dance in the candlelight. “I cannot wait to be Mrs. Cameron."

"Yeah?" He asks as he inches closer. You nod in reply, giving your lip a soft bite. "Mrs. Cameron," he echos. “And, is the future Mrs. Cameron wearin’ somethin’ pretty under this gorgeous dress f’me?”

”Of course I am.”

“I’m a lucky man. N’do you always dress this nice for work,” he smiles as he plays with the hem of your satin dress, letting his rough fingers drift underneath, taking hold of your upper thigh, teasing your lace-clad pussy with the pad of his thumb.

“No… I just had a feelin’ that someone was going to come home.”

“You know me too well. I’ve been gone for a week, princess. And that time difference… Fuck. It’s crazy.”

“We make it work. Those pictures you sent me the other day, Daddy…” You bite back a flustered laugh.

“Yeah - Yeah… After you sent me a few pictures during a business deal I had to leave early and take care of myself, doll. You're bad for business. You know?”

“You probably needed to relax,” you coo as you brush his bangs off his pretty face.

“Did you relax, sweetheart? Play with this perfect pussy of yours?” He smiles as he applies a little more pressure with his thumb.

“Of course I did.”

“Yeah?” He asks feeding you a little more cake. “Tell me about that.”

"Three times, baby," you chuckle.

“Three?”

“Mhmm… When I got them, after my bath, and before I went to bed.”

"Naughty thing. Huh? What did you do, sweetheart?"

Your cheeks blush as you let out a soft giggle. "I used that vibrator you got me... and just pretend it's you," you sigh, shutting your eyes softly. Your eyes open, and his mouth is agape, chuckling delightedly as he wraps his arm around your waist, needing you closer. “You're so much better, Rafe. So... much...better," you whisper against his lips, kissing him softly.

"I miss hearing you say my name," he whispers the words against your lips, playing and sucking on the bottom before taking it between his teeth.

"I still do,” you smile.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he groans, relaxing his forehead on your shoulder in sexual exhaustion.

"Mmm... And what do you do, Ray?"

"I touch myself too..." He returns his eyes to yours; a smirk tugging on his perfect lips. "Just fist my dick and pretend it's your pussy... Mmm... I picture you bouncing on top of me."

"That sounds pretty nice," you whisper, dipping your finger into the cake. You bring it up to your lips, sucking roughly, your eyes locked on his.

"Nothin’ compares to you.” His lips part as he watches you sink your finger into the cake again, returning it to your mouth. "I miss those lips around my dick, sweetheart..." He sighs, watching your fingers glide into your mouth. You smile wide, cheeks warming up. “And I get that feeling forever….”

“Forever.”

“I’m going to make you scream my name tonight, y/n. Is that what you want, baby?" He groans.

"O’course. Fuck... But, I'm going to suck your cock first.”

“Yeah-” He takes you into his arms, lips crashing with yours. Rafe moans into your mouth; his lips sugary sweet, matching yours. Your tongue slips between his lips as you roll your body teasing him with your hips. “Let’s take the cake,” you smile.

“Yeah?”

“Don’t you want me to suck it off your cock?” You ask innocently.

"Fuck, baby. That’s exactly what I want. We held out long enough. Huh?" He teases you as he passes you the cake.

“Too long.”

You take it in one hand, the other hooked around his neck, forcing him close. You pant for air between hungry kisses, the both of you finally getting what you want; your sexual tension boiling over. Rafe pushes through the bedroom door, throwing it shut. He groans lowly, gripping your ass a little tighter before setting you down on your feet, taking the cake off your hands. The two of you kiss messily, tearing off articles of clothing until all that's left is skin and lace. Rafe pushes you back on the bed, mounting you fast, rolling his body into yours, making you release a desperate moan for more.

"Goddamn, princess…” He grunts, giving you a few more unsheathed thrusts. He grips your garter belt and panties, drawing them down slowly, peeling off your bra, rolling off your stockings one by one.

You wrap your hands around Rafe’s neck, the blonde quickly taking your cue, rolling you to straddle his lap. Your wet pussy presses against his stiff cock; his large hands clutching your hips, guiding you to grind on top. You reach your hand for the cake, running your manicured finger through the chocolate mousse filling, tracing a line from his neck to his broad, muscular chest. Your tongue follows the sweetness along his warm skin. Rafe watches you, caressing wherever he can reach as you sink lower on his big body.

Your fingers paint his skin dangerously close to his cock. "Mmm... baby. Please, baby. Ugh... I can't fucking wait," he whines. You clean up the mess with your tongue, your eyes focused on his half-lidded stare. You dip your finger into the cake again. Rafe’s smile widens, knowing what would come next. Holding his throbbing tip, you make a mess of his rock-hard skin, working slowly, teasing him with the thought of your lips around him fully.

"Shit..." He whispers as you taunt him, cleaning the sweetness off your fingers, slipping each one in your mouth until all that remains is your ring finger. Rafe grabs your hand fast, drawing it to his lips, sucking your finger up to the diamond. "Mrs. Cameron…"

"Mr. Cameron?" You answer playfully.

"Suck my fuckin’ cock, baby," he demands; his voice, the perfect amount of darkness, sending chills down your spine. You lower yourself, flattening your tongue as you work up his dick. Rafe’s head sinks into the pillow, a loud moan escapes his lips, and you taste his salty precum mixed with the sugary sweetness of the cake. You wrap your fingers around his thick base, taking him into your mouth, sucking his dick.

"Ugh... princess. Shit," he praises. Rafe lifts his head off the pillow, watching as you take him to the back of your throat. His fingers weave into your hair, pulling slightly. You whine on his cock. Rafe’s muscles stiffen underneath you. "So damn good at sucking cock," he pants. "Fuck... That mouth is mine, princess. Gonna cum down that pretty throat of yours.”

You twist your hands as you suck, the man’s eyes shutting softly, his brows knitting tight. "Mmm... I can't wait to fuck you, y/n. Shit... I'm going to fuck you so hard." Rafe mumbles as he spills into you throat, pressing your head against him. "Fuck," he pules, his broad chest rising and falling fast as he reaches for air. Rafe shudders out an overstimulated breath as you continue to suck, not wanting to miss a drop. He twists his fingers in your hair, using his grip to lift you off his cock, leading you to his lips, rolling you over quick enough to make you gasp.

"Mmm..." Rafe hums, his eyes falling down your frame underneath him. Your fingers run over the indentations of his abs to his chest. He wraps his hands around your wrists, grabbing them and pinning them against the plush mattress.

"You look so damn good," you breathe.

"Fuck, you look better, baby. I wish you could see yourself,” he lauds. "My turn." Rafe reaches over, dirtying his finger with the cake before sliding it along your bottom lip, just like you did, kissing you roughly. He sucks your bottom lip, drawing the sweetness to his. His lips work from your cheek to your jaw, lowering to your collarbone, licking a line across it.

Dipping his fingers in the frosting, he returns them to your skin, circling them around your nipples, watching them harden under his touch. Rafe takes your stiff peaks in his mouth, swirling and flicking, cleaning you up with his tongue. You toss your head back into the cloud of pillows below you. "Mmm... I fucking love you," you whimper.

"I love you too," he mumbles against your body as he works lower and lower, hooking his strong arms around your thighs, pulling you right where he wants you. Rafe returns his fingers to the cake, plunging them in, running the mess on the crook of your thighs, making your pussy ache for him.

"Rafe, please. Baby, please," you beg.

"Damn, I've missed that,” he smirks. Rafe licks and sucks your skin as you weave your fingers through his hair.

He lowers his face to your warmth, licking a stripe up your cunt. You buck your hips, Rafe quickly taking control, pressing you down. “Where are you goin’. Huh?” He bullies; his tongue quickly sliding into your entrance. You let out a raspy whine as he darts his tongue in and out, drowning himself in your drenched slick. "Fuck you taste so damn good, princess," he drawls. "The prettiest fucking thing I've ever seen," he hums, the vibrations causing your back to arch off the bed.

His lips meet your clit, sucking suddenly, pushing in one finger, then another as his tongue assaults your clit. Rafe curls his digits slightly, nailing your sweet spot with each brush of his hand. The knot in your stomach, tightens. "Just like that," you pant. Your heart rate increases as you draw your thighs in, squeezing Rafe's shoulder. "Fuck, right there. "O-Oh, Rafe... Shit." You look between your legs, watching your thighs tremble uncontrollably, your fiance devouring your drenched cunt like a man.

"Be a good girl and cum for me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes roll back at the sound of his voice; orgasm claiming you. Rafe doesn't stop, increasing the pressure as you release a fucked-out cry, making a mess of his fingers as you flutter around them. "Holy shit," you pant as you rest your hands on your dewy chest, skin glistening as Rafe looks back at you pussy-drunk.

“Ride me, baby?” He asks starry-eyed, chin wet with your arousal. He rolls to his back, pulling you on top. You grasp Rafe's cock, guiding him to your entrance. Running his head through your climax. He shakes his head at you awe, smiling, taking a rough grip on your hips. You swirl him around your soaked hole, thighs trembling, mouth falling open as his thick dick stretches you out.

Your legs widen on the bed; Rafe pressing your hips further, causing you to sink as low as you can ‘til his biceps flex from strain. He loosens his grip on your hips, allowing you to take control, still maintaining contact. You work in slow rhythmic movements, swiveling and screwing your hips into him. Grabbing his wrists, you draw his hands up your body slowly, stopping at your breasts. He takes them in his hands, squeezing and pressing them together. Rafe pinches and rolls your nipples between his fingers, making you moan in bliss. You lean back slightly, resting your hands on his thighs as you ride.

"Holy shit, baby," he breathes.

"Does this feel good, daddy?" You whimper.

"So fucking good." You start to bounce up and down on his dick, slipping your hands into your hair. Rafe slinks his hands around to your ass, squeezing it, watching your breasts bounce. "So good at riding my dick, baby. Shittt…” His eyes darken, taking in every inch of your body. Rafe follows your fingers as you bring your hand to your clit, working in side-to-side motions, feeling your pleasure about to consume you.

"Rafe, I'm going to cum," you cry. He smiles devilishly, throwing his hips up into you as you hover over him. "Fuck," you wail as your orgasm burns through your body.

“Atta baby. Fuck you’re perfect. Co’mere,” he grunts, not giving you time to recover, manhandling you to your hands and knees. Rafe grips your hip roughly with one hand and uses the other to bend you over; your palms resting on the bed. Your thighs shiver, feeling the aftershocks of your first two orgasms. Physically winded, but never more satisfied as you wait for more. He takes himself in his hand, gliding up and down before stuffing himself inside, filling you to the brim. Rafe takes your hips in his hands, thrusting roughly, kneading your ass between strokes. You arch your back and prop yourself on your elbows, looking back at him. His eyes roll back, seeing you this way.

Rafe tightens his grip on your hips, picking up the pace and throwing his body into you. The sound of your skin slapping fills the room. You look up at the headboard, swaying with each thrust. Your bum claps against his toned body, the fullness of your ass recoiling with each thrust. You take control, throwing it back into him fucking yourself on his cock. He grips and slaps your curves as you move. Your pleasure starts to build again. "Are you going to cum, princess?" Rafe asks breathlessly.

"Mhmm" you moan, barely able to press out the sound. You sink your face deep into the pillow, Rafe's name muffled into the fabric again and again. Your orgasm courses through your body, rocking you to your core as he continues to rut into you, rapid thrusts as you tighten around his cock.

“Fuckkk,” he drags out the words and crashes into you one last time, the warmth of his climax filling you. You feel his muscles tense, the man groaning in pleasure, emptying himself deep. His cock throbs inside you as his large, rough hands circle your ass. You whimper as he pulls out, Rafe pushing you to your back. He spreads your thighs, watching his pearly white cum drip out of you. He grabs his cock in his fist, catching the mess with his fat tip before pressing himself back in. He grinds into you slow and deep, allowing you to feel every inch. You let out a satisfied sigh as he lowers himself to your lips, cockwarming you as his tongue reels with yours, sweetness still hanging on as you both bask in the after-glow.

"I love you, princess," he whispers against your kiss.

"Mmm... and I love you, Rafe Cameron."

tag list and masterlist on my pinned post @starkeysprincess @rafesthroatbaby @gri959 @loserboysandlithium @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @akobx @darlydixon83 @hyperfixationgirl @savayvayblr-blog @oxpogues4lifexo @rafesgiirl @sleepiibunniiii

[grimoiresheart]

nothing will ever put into words how beautiful, rich and complex the history of butches and femmes is. the way these identities encapsulate the nuance of dyke gender, affection and the inherent longing to be seen - truly seen for who we are, in a world that often times, seems to have forgotten us.

thinking of those who came before us, how the ofos butches would curl a cigarette in their hands, and watch a femme from across the bar with long nails tap her glass, in anticipation of that one moment that tells them both it was all worth it. the gentle smearing of lipstick, the confidence from straightening out a tie. we have always performed for one another, and known each other far beyond the capability or understanding of anyone outside of our community.

i long to see the theatrics, the drawn out gazes filled with the possibilty of something more. the love letters adorned with perfume and spring violets, a gentle hand finding its way underneath the hem of a worn out vest. i long to love and be loved in the only way that we have ever known, with unbridled fervor spilling out at the edges, with the intimacy found beside candlelight and intertwined between satin sheets. the promise that we will always find each other.

[introloves]

𝐎𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄

money tied to love shouldn’t feel this good.

old money! gojo x reader + dom! gojo + petnames (angel + princess) + reader gets doted on + reader also gets spoiled with money and gifts + heavy petting + messy sex + kinda public sex + size kink + praise + overstimulation + breeding + frotting + embarrassment + slight, very slight humiliation + slight degradation + squirting + f! reader

— word count; approx 3.2k

gojo knew the promise of his immense amount of wealth was what drew people in. knew that his name carried weight- and the look of his face itself was enough to get him out of most conflict, but it felt different with you.

he knew you were not as interested in the circle of opulence that he was born into- but that didn’t mean you didn't dislike it.

he figured it out ten months in, decided to indulge in a restaurant that had been bought out for the night and settled you right in front of him- sparkling in the dim candlelight with jewels he had dropped off right before picking you up. watching with crescent eyes as you squirmed in your seat, lips pouty and propped open to let just a sliver of warm exhale through before tucking your bottom lip into your teeth. wondering if you knew he could see the subtle shift of your thighs- tugging the satin dress across the swell of your thighs.

“you like it?” satoru wondered, sitting back in his seat while your trembling fingers reached and curled against the stem of the wine glass- knowing you tried so hard to keep an air of nonchalance against his always watching eyes.

“it’s… beautiful.” you finally giggled, letting the sweet liquid inside your mouth- making the already expensive wine look just that much more delicious against your lips.

it pleased him, knowing you were enjoying yourself, knowing how much you fought against his incessant push to throw gifts your direction left and right, a feeling of guilt twisting in your stomach that made you feel like maybe he thought you were using him. but he knew different, the slight frown on your lips when he first gave you a necklace that looked like it could pay for your rent for a couple of years was dropped off at your doorstep with no further pretense or condition to let him know this was different.

he simply thought it would look good on you- and his expenses were explained to no one but him alone as the only heir to his family wealth, it's not like it would make a dent in money that sat there unused and was older than both of you two put together. it looked better draped around your neck, or hugging the curves he could seemingly long for forever, felt better when the simmering heat in your stomach was worn on your cheeks- liked leaning down and feeling the warmth painted on the curve of your face, nearly burning against his lips.

sitting back, he let his knees fall apart- spreading his legs open, crossed his arms over his body to look at you from the glint of his lower lashes. a stance that at first glance would look like it was him getting comfortable, but the way his lips kept a small upturn at the corners- the way he really looked at you felt like there was a crushing weight pinning you down right in front of him. his chin tilting up to ask without a word being said if you felt it too, if the weight of his cock in his silk pants was reciprocated by the thrumming of want nestled between your legs. silence that had you shakily press the crystal back down against the table to bring a hand up and shield another small giggle from your lips, and it took everything in him to not reach over the table and tug your hand away. his own heart thumping heavy in his chest, a lowly mumble of ‘cute’ that sounded mean falling from his lips before keeping quiet once again.

broken only by the sound of the music changing- the slow whine of a sleepy note seeping off into a moving waltz, seemingly snapping out of his stupor for a second- wondering if he could keep his hands to himself for the entirety of the meal. giving you a wink before straightening back up, elbows placed on the table to close the distance just a little bit.

“beautiful, huh.” he repeated, wondering how to proceed with the delicate swing of want that was tipped back and forth between the two.

“how hungry are you, angel?” gojo breathed, sighing something heavy out of his lungs. letting your answer pick for the both of you, eyes caught against the delicate glimmer of diamonds reflected back with every rise and fall of your chest. luring him in even further with just the way you sat there, trying not to groan at the singular thought that he had brought them for you- that it was from his own hand that placed the delicate metal and diamonds fasted against your skin right there. wondering if you would wear his name just as pretty right there.

the question struck a chord in your stomach- tingling with the thought, with the offhand chance that he was just as desperate for you as you were him, food be damned. there were always other nights, and the events leading up to this whole show of glamor and wealth were already way too much for you to bear.

“hungry?” you wondered out loud, “not very hungry.” you shrugged, truthful and shy. knowing you were wanting something else, but finding it hard to really vocalize just what you wanted in fear of reading the signs wrong.

“but it’s not about the food, is it?” you sighed, motioning with a small circle of your hand to the environment you found yourself in- finally letting your finger rest against your newly found tennis necklace resting along your collarbone.

and gojo laughed, knowing you were going to say something in regards to this whole show. because you were right.

“no princess, it's not about the food, but i am a gentleman and thought i'd ask before i do this-” satoru nearly keens before sitting up straight, and with a wave of his hand ushered over the waiter. motioning for the man to lean into him, whispering words lost to you no matter how much you strained to hear before handing him a black card, rimmed with silver trimming. smile still plastered on his face even when he turned to look at you, before finally standing and extending a hand out towards you, bowing his head to avert his eyes to the floor like the so-called ‘gentleman’ he claimed to be.

it made it so easy to lean into the grandeur that he was cloaked in, giggling before letting a hand reach for his arm, traveling up the softness of his button up shirt (with too many of them undone to realistically be called one) before looping your other arm around his bicep, shivering with the feel of muscle taught and so big against your body; expecting him to tug you to the front door, but instead took long steps to the back, dimmed lights only illuminated sparsely by satoru’s request. walking past leather seats and heavy oak counters, his eyes glued to the doors of the bathrooms nestled away in the back even when you tipped your head up to look at him as he tugged you away.

“gojo?” you whispered, even though there was no need to.

“hm?” was all that was responded back to you, hand pushing the door open and finally grabbing you. hands shaky while they pressed against the warm curve of your body, barely letting the door shut closed before leaning down to kiss you, sighing like he was tasting the sweetest thing hed ever had- and with every pass of his tongue against your glossy lips it might as well had been.

rendered speechless, too busy trying to guess where the path of his hand was finally going to land against you, your own hands reaching up to anchor themselves into the fabric of his shirt- fisting the material like it was the only thing keeping you standing.

“satoru!” you cried, in between a kiss that didn’t feel all consuming, letting you think for just a second.

pulling away with the slight urgency to his name, finally paying attention to the way you shook against him, wondering if he took it just a little too far.

picking up your chin with a curled finger on one hand, the other prying your shaking fist from his shirt before kissing the back of it. wondering how you had gotten so sweet.

“angel.” he sighed, finally thinking straight now that the heat he had felt all night was satiated just a tiny bit, finally attentive to what you wanted.

“i dont want kisses.” you breathed, blinking back tears for the sake of the time it took to get ready, wondering if it was any use granted just what you wanted.

“no? ah, baby.” satoru sighed, leaning in to lick your cheek like it was the most normal thing- like it was something to do when trying to soothe someone, ready to apologize, to let you know that he really was a gentleman and there was no excuse for tugging you along for the sake of calming down the throbbing in his pants.

“no, i-i want more.” you finally cried, thankful for the fact that his piercing eyes weren’t staring directly into yours, finding it hard to think when they were pinning you down.

and in a second, it felt like he could finally breathe. tilting his head back to stare at the lights illuminating the bathroom, thankful that they were not generic fluorescent lights- it was much softer, painting you in a color that made you look worth more than anything he could think up.

“more? what’s more, baby. tell me- i’d give you anything.” gojo murmured, shaking with the painted restraint that didn’t come easy, too indulgent, wanting to hear what you had been pining for the whole night. with what he knew you wanted from him, finally letting yourself be indulgent with the grandiosity he could so easily give you.

but it felt too real, all of the courage you had seconds ago wasted away with the way he held you in place- thumb and pointer finger pressed on either side of your face while he leaned down into you, breathing hot and heavy into your open mouth, just waiting for the words like he was going to eat them up. draped in expensive fabric thanks to him, jewelry clasped around your neck and wrists thanks to him, propped up against the cool wall in the restaurant you could never get into by yourself thanks to him. and all you could do in return was cry and shake like a baby against his ever imposing stature. breaking into the mess he wanted you in.

“c-cant. i can’t.” you finally breathed, closing your eyes and letting the tears that had clung so desperately against your lashes fall down your cheeks, nestling against the dip of your cheek his fingers made.

and he shouldn't have felt so good about this, shouldn’t have; so ardently burned with lust at the way you gave it all to him, but he was a creature of lust and opulence- and there wasn’t anything as tempting and delicate as you.

“oh, angel- it’s okay, i’ll take care of it, it’s my fault- isn’t it?” he reassured with a lilting voice that felt like licks of stinging heat against you, letting go of your face in favor of reaching down lower- pressing against the pulse point of your neck instead, making you even dizzier than you had been already.

and he supposes the reason why he liked you like this, dizzy and dependent on him, was because it made it so easy to turn you around- letting you miss his touch for just a second before entangling his fingers against the back of your head and pushing you forward- silently apologizing for his heavy hand before swallowing it all back when your mouth popped open and you whined a sound so raring it made him blink before returning fullforce.

leaning to search for the cheek that hadn't been plastered against the cool marble to bite into the softness there, while his free hand wandered down to the crux of your legs. prying your soaked underwear to the side and sinking just the tips of his fingers against your slit, openly groaning at how hot and wet you were. his cock straining against his pants, throbbing and swelling with every shaky breath you panted, pressing it against the thinly clad curve of your ass, letting his hips rut desperately against you, fingers sinking further into your cunt when the feel of him against you like that had another wave of wetness make a mess right there while he touched you.

“youre so, fucking- wet.” he murmured, making it sound like a complaint, before leaving the grip of your head in favor of reaching down between the two of you- fisting at his cock for just seconds until the heavy press of his body against your own waned in the want and need to have you made him dizzy too. finally letting the heaviness of his swollen cock free, letting it rest against your lower back, nestled like it belonged against the swell of your ass, painting your pretty dress in a messy string of precum.

normally, he'd shown more restraint, would have strung you along until you couldn’t take it anymore and then give it all to you- but the singular thought of you finally basking in what he had to offer, in what came with his name made him already too weak.

“too fucking cute, i really have it all.” he breathed, prying his messy fingers from your cunt before grabbing the equally soaked piece of fabric hiding you away from him and pulling, tugging until the lace and cotton gave way, falling down onto the floor between your feet- not even bothering to move your dress, shifting his hips away from you in order to guide the thickness of his head into your heat. too hard to need a guiding hand, and finally letting out a strained groan when the mushroomed tip of his cock popped inside.

open mouth panting once the initial churn of his stomach went away, heavy balls constricting with the need to dump a heavy load of thick cum inside you.

a slave to this singular thought- chasing it with closed eyes, reaching for it before it left the forefront of his mind. towering body bowing down to meet you, to hiss expletives against your ear, wanting you to know what was racing through his mind the second his cock finally sheathed itself right where it belonged.

“i’ll give it all to you.” gojo whined, hiccuped in desperation while his hips twitched to give you one good thrust, pushing a mirrored sound of utter shock from your own pouty lips.

“the money, clothes, anything you want-“ he grunted, working to lessen the clutch of your tight pussy around his throbbing cock, barely able to move, to fuck you. “you won’t have to work a single day in your life, princess.” satoru murmured, words clipped short, his pet names for you spat between gritted teeth when his hips finally found a frantic rhythm, balls slapping against your clit so hard it felt like pads of fingertips tapping the swollen bud there- only further adding onto the searing pleasure.

trying so hard not to completely collapse, your hands found his forearms, wrapped tightly around your stomach to keep you there- close and unmoving while he humped away, letting you know in his own way to let go, he had you in the midst of dirty, filthy words.

“just give me a baby, yeah?” gojo finally breathed. pitching forward to nestle his nose into the space between your shoulder blades, arms keeping you so close you could hardly breathe.

the singular sentence making you dizzy, thighs squeezing together in the sudden heat wracking your body at the implication of it all- at the fact that you wanted it more than anything.

knees snapping shut, barely keeping any weight of your body against your toes, putting all your faith in his arms before seizing up. stomach clenching so hard it ran on the precipice of hurting, cunt closing down around his dick so hard he fought to keep it inside- knowing that’s where it belonged. wishing more than anything he could turn you around to see you cum, wanting to watch your pretty eyes roll and head tip back- but the sharp sound of liquid splashing down along the glistening floor was enough.

an exasperated laugh knocking the wind out of him with the realization that you just came all over the front of his expensive pants and the floor.

head tilting back to laugh out against the vacant room, wondering why you were so cute, why even in the midst of cumming you mewled and pleaded with him to cum inside- pushing past the overwhelming exhaustion from it all.

and it only takes seconds longer for satoru to oblige, wanting to do right by his part- to give you anything you wanted, finally pressing against the curve of your ass, shivering with the final constrict of his stomach before relenting.

cock swelling, spilling inside of you with a fervor that makes him loose any semblance of composure he has left, letting himself picture you tied to his side, happy and content- smiling and asking him for things he’s more than happy to oblige with, wanting you to be selfish and greedy with him, just like he is you.

“ah, messy.” he finally breathes, like it’s your fault- snickering when you whine and throw back a mean look at him, smile bitten back just a little when the final pulse of his cock hits him. trying to let the lowly groans simmering in the back of his throat lessen just a little, wishing he didn’t have to leave you, wanting to stay in the heat of your creamed cunt, dick surrounded by the mess he made there.

but the shake in your legs doesn’t let up- and he knows you’re tired, and with a small sigh, he leans down and kisses your cheek sweetly, sliding his spent cock out and furrowing his eyebrows at the wetness coating it, a pearlescent string of mixed cum falling down onto his already ruined pants- huffing with just the slightest tinge of pride.

reaching to gently shift the crumbled up seat of your dress down back where it belonged, seeing the ruined state your attire was in too- rolling his shoulders back to soothe the strain of being bent down around you just a little.

“satoru.” you whine like he wasn’t already doing everything for you, but you couldn’t help it- he’d made you like this, always wanting more.

and he comes down like the singular ring from his name from your lips pulled him itself- pressing kiss after kiss along your heated cheek, shushing whines when he lets you try and stand by yourself, wanting to make it home to properly give you everything.

smiling like he wasn’t about to pull you out of the bathroom with cum soaked thighs and expensive silk that made everything shine so elegantly despite what was wetting the material- but he only assured you it was okay. there was no one here after all, he’d paid everyone out to sit in the back and enjoy a break on him.

further stoked by the way you simmered even more at the realization that with money like his, he could do anything.

he could do anything for you.

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

postwar!Levi absolutely chafes under enforced bedrest, unfamiliar and uncomfortable with doing nothing

his useless legs feel like cinderblocks holding the waterlogged sack of his body to a riverbed, drowning slow

his nervous system hasn’t caught up to the uneasy peace, flooding his veins with adrenaline that has nowhere to go, leaving him gasping for air and sick over the side of his bed

he can’t clean the mess, and that might be the worst thing of all, the helpless wait for someone to witness his weakness

postwar!Levi can’t tell his fevered dreams from reality, follows the green smudge of Erwin’s cloak across an endless battlefield, calls to his commander till he’s lost his voice and wakes up tasting copper

the people who come to check on him are not who he wants to see- why hasn’t Hange visited, changing his bandages with their steady hands?

he leads Isabel and Furlan up a set of stairs that never seem to end, crunching over the hollow bones of birds that died searching for the sky

postwar!Levi finds his clarity has returned one featureless morning and he weeps for the first time since the battle of heaven and earth, mourns the loss of the delirium that had left the door open for his loved ones to creep through

he begins to recognize the recurring figures at his bedside, the gentle touch on his forehead that signals your arrival with water or blankets or bread

the light of anything more than a candle burns his blind eye, so he learns your face only by the flicker of firelight, the absence of shadow

postwar!Levi is desperate for something to occupy his fractured mind, painfully empty without the urgency of strategizing survival

you hide your surprise when he asks you to read to him in a voice rasped with disuse, saying he doesn’t care what it is, just something to focus on outside of himself, and you understand

you begin to visit him every evening, reading softly from your favorite books as he lies taut and silent in bed, brow furrowed in concentration, breathing through the pain that wracks his battered body

postwar!Levi finds unlikely comfort in your voice, your consistent presence, the slow walks along the winding paths of the stories you tell him

you take a quiet pride in the way he seems to soften each night, just barely, the deep black shadows under his haunted eyes fading into the color of an old bruise, his furrowed brow smoothing into satin as you read

postwar!Levi is sitting up when you arrive one evening, gives you the barest incline of his head in self-conscious greeting

he frowns and shrugs off your praise for his progress, doesn’t want to hear of how miraculous it is that he can heave his once-superhuman body up against the headboard, doesn’t confess how long it took or how much it hurt

he does, however, ask you for tea, not telling you that it would be the first time he’s accepted a cup he hadn’t prepared himself, swallowing a sick resignation with the request

postwar!Levi makes eye contact with you for the first time when he offers gruff thanks, shivering as your fingertips brush around the warm ceramic

something clenches in your chest and you turn away to hide it, occupying yourself with invisible specks of dust on his bedspread

you’re busy swiping the corner of your apron over the nightstand and miss the way his eyes go wide, then soften as he watches you bustle around him

“it’s alright. you don’t have to-” “-I know.”

the two of you speak at the same time, fall into the same embarrassed silence, watching each other warily in the low candlelight

your shadows overlap where they are thrown onto the wall as if they don’t realize the distance between the bodies that grew them, or refuse to recognize it at all

[aeferfckr]

im so sick and tired of the "oh abyss!aether would be super rough while trav!aether would be gentle and caring🥺" bullshit. LIKE ITS SO CLEAR THAT ITS THE OTHER WAY AROUNDDDDUH.

abyss has been through years of stress and torment — traveling throughout teyvat, learning its dark secrets and actively fighting against them can really ware down someone.

abyss would see sex as more intimate, as a way to recharge his ever draining battery. two souls mixing together as one to form a bond that not even celestia can tear apart.

the both of you come together under dimming candlelight, intertwining with each other on silk satin sheets. every touch, every kiss, is gentle. the complete opposite of his usual routine of being the stern prince of the abyss.

he has always had enough time, so would it be that bad if he puts a portion of it aside to worship his royalty?

trav on the other hand is constantly looking for his next adventure. if he ever desires to reunite with his sister, he needs to traverse the lands of teyvat, leaving not one stone unturned.

as said earlier, the stress of it all weighs him down. it was always up to you to relieve it— a small task you have given yourself over the course in which you journeyed with him.

he tried so hard to control himself when you first made love, to not show you how frustrated he really was with this archon damned world. all restraint he had left his body as soon as he heard you mumble 'faster..'

so he hopes that you won't hate him if he decided to let loose a little more.

© aeferfckr.

[momhwa-agenda]

Drive me crazy | Octoberfest Day 3

Pairing - boyfriend!Eric x fem!reader

Drink - Martini with a side of whiskey (aka Established relationship & Bondage)

Summary - Eric has always been the kind of boyfriend who loves to spoil you, indulging your desires without hesitation. Tonight, he proves once again that he knew exactly how to keep things exciting.

Word Count - 2.7K

Warnings - SMUT (Minors 18+ DNI!!!), use of restraints, orgasm denial, oral (m and f receiving), spanking, fingering, unprotected sex, backshots, daddy kink, creampie, cockwarming, petnames (baby and darling)

Author’s note - Proofread this once help. My first entry for OctoberFest with friends! I had the pic of the bracelets on standby for 2 years and I finally get to use them for a fic hahasdks.

Taglist - @daisyvisions @midnightfantasiez @snowflakewhispers @kitschun @nyu-topia

⇀ OctoberFest Masterlist

Eric’s thoughts were anything but formal.

His gaze drifted more often than it should, not to the grand chandeliers or the sea of glamorous people—but to you. Specifically, the bracelets adorning your wrists. They seemed innocent enough to anyone else, but all that was missing was the chain linking them together.

He remembered the story behind them, the reason you’d been drawn to those delicate chains from Bijoux Indiscrets the first time you saw them. He could practically hear your teasing voice telling him: “They’re more than just accessories, babe.”

You moved closer to him, your arm brushing his. The sultry cut of your dress revealed just enough to send his mind racing, but it was those bracelets, softly jingling with your movements, that truly got under his skin tonight.

You felt his eyes on you, knowing full well you were the cause of his distraction. A coy smile tugged at your lips as you continued to mingle, pretending not to notice the way his fingers twitched, as if he were already imagining slipping them under the satin fabric of your gown.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his voice a low rumble. “We need to go.” The words were edged with desire, making your heart skip a beat.

You looked up at him, feigning innocence. “It’s too early to leave...” But the knowing glint in your eyes was pretty clear to Eric what game you were playing.

He didn’t answer. He simply took your hand and guided you toward the elevator. As the doors closed behind you both, the air between you became thick with tension. The moment you were alone, his restraint crumbled. Eric pressed you against the mirrored wall, his hands finding their way to your waist, your bracelets jingling as your arms circled his neck.

“Naughty girl, you did this on purpose,” he muttered against your lips, voice rough with want. “You know what those bracelets do to me.”

A soft laugh escaped you as you nipped playfully at his bottom lip. “I had no idea,” you teased, eyes sparkling with mischief. “They matched the dress.”

He growled softly, gripping your neck in a way that was rough yet with a hint of gentleness. His teeth grazed your skin before he peppered hungry kisses along your sensitive flesh.

When the elevator dinged at your floor, he reluctantly pulled away, his breath ragged. But then he flashed that charming, devilish smile you adored. “I've got something to show you.”

He laced his fingers with yours, leading you down the hallway, until he stopped in front of your hotel suite. With a flourish, he unlocks the door, revealing your hotel suite, except the sight of which left you speechless. The room was now bathed in soft candlelight, rose petals scattered across the plush bed, and a bottle of champagne chilling on ice.

You turned to him, stunned. “Eric…”

He grinned, pulling you into his arms. “Happy anniversary, baby.”

Your heart swelled as you looked around the room, then back at him. “This is…” you break off, overwhelmed with emotion.

“You didn’t think I would forget did you?” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “How could I forget the best day of my life?”

Your eyes shimmered as you smiled up at him. He leaned in, pressing his lips softly to yours.

“Now I feel bad, my outfit is nothing compared to this” you murmured against his lips.

He laughed softly, you nervously fiddled with the collar of his silk shirt. “The outfit was amazing, sweetheart. But you’ll be needing something stronger than these,” he holds your wrists up touching the cool gold accessories.

Before you can say anything further, your boyfriend leads you towards the bed. A box sits waiting for you.

“Go on. Open it” Eric whispers in your ear.

As you unwrap the bow, you uncover a familiar choker that you came across online.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as you run your fingers over the cool metal. You take the choker out of the box, the chains that droop elegantly around the hoops send a ripple of arousal through you.

“You didn’t. This can’t be…” Your voice falters, filled with disbelief and excitement.

“There are bracelets to match” Eric just says behind you.

The words barely have time to settle before you turn, heart racing, and capture his lips in a kiss that is as desperate as it is tender. Your fingers cling to him, pulling him closer, the weight of the choker in your hand forgotten for a moment. His lips respond eagerly, meeting yours with the kind of hunger that says he's been waiting for this.

When you finally pull away, both of you are breathless. Your chest rises and falls, but it's his eyes that hold you in place, dark and intense, filled with something possessive and unrelenting.

Eric’s hand rises slowly, cradling your face with such tenderness that it sends a shiver down your spine. His thumb brushes over your cheek, and you lean into the warmth of his touch. The weight of the choker, the symbolic gesture of ownership, and the thought of him using it on you makes your knees feel weak.

“Tell me….how do you want to start?”

“I want…” You know he was going to give you anything you desired yet there you were, pleading with your eyes “I want to wear them tonight.”

You remove your dress and the bracelets, leaving you bare, save for the lacy thong. Tugging on his shirt collar, you pull him down gently until he’s lying on top of you. His weight is warm and grounding against your body. Your hands rest against his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingers, matching your own racing pulse.

“Claim every part of me, Eric…Until I can’t think of anything else. I trust you.” You spread your arms on either side of the bed, inviting him to cuff your hands with the restraints attached to the bedpost.

His lips curved into a slow smile, but his eyes never left yours, searching, reading every emotion that flickered across your face. “Just tell me if it’s too much,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. “I’ll stop the moment you want me to.”

You nodded, heart thudding in your chest, as he took the cuffs from the box. His fingers brush your wrist as he takes your hand, lifting it gently, his touch reverent as if he’s handling something fragile.

The soft clink of metal fills the quiet room as he fastens the first cuff around your wrist, the leather smooth and snug against your skin. The sensation is strange, unfamiliar, but it doesn’t frighten you. Instead, it makes your pulse quicken with a heady mix of trust and desire. You watch him as he moves with deliberate slowness, ensuring that the leather isn’t too tight, that you’re still comfortable.

With the first cuff in place, he stretches your arm carefully toward the bedpost, securing it there. You feel the tension in your body, not from discomfort, but from the raw vulnerability of it. Your breath hitches as he moves to the other wrist, repeating the process, his fingers brushing your skin with a tenderness that contrasts with the tension in the room.

You then sit up a little as Eric gently lifts the choker, bringing it up to your throat. His hands are steady as he clasps it behind your neck, but you feel the tremor of his breath, betraying the desire simmering beneath his calm exterior.

The chains brush your skin, and you gasp softly, your body reacting to the subtle sensation. His fingers linger at your neck, tracing the line of the chain with a deliberate slowness that sends a wave of heat rolling through you, before he twirls the material around his finger.

“Does baby want to be choked?”

“Yes, please” you gasp. Eager to test the choker, Eric tugs on the chain, causing it to tighten around your neck. The sudden pressure catches you off guard, momentarily stealing your breath. Yet, a moan escapes your lips, surprising even you. Your reaction—both the sound and the look on your face—sends Eric's pulse racing. A wicked grin spreads across his face; he was going to relish having you at his mercy.

“Do you think you deserve my cock?” he gets off the bed momentarily to strip down the rest of his clothes, without taking his eyes off of you. Once he pulls his briefs down, the delicious monster cock you love so much slaps against his abs. You gulp at how turned on he was.

He hasn’t even touched you but it was also the way his eyes roamed over the sight of you lying ready for him. God you looked beautiful and perfect to him.

“I want…very much, daddy. I need your cock in my mouth, please” You beg.

Eric crawls over you, until he was straddling you enough that he slowly rubbed his member over your stomach. He kisses your lips, fueled by the hunger that’s been building between you all night, as his hands roam down to grope your breast.

He breaks the kiss, cradling your face once more. You roll out your tongue, licking his palm mischievously. That was it for him to push himself into your mouth. Satisfied groans leave your mouth and his. With Eric, it was the feeling of being inside your warm mouth, while for you it was the need to taste every inch of him like a quiet ache that would never go away. You pride yourself in making Eric feel desired, you love every aspect of his body. You loved his dick so much, and you would give him everything regardless of what position he had you in.

Eric then began to thrust in you, testing your limits by pushing a little further. You didn’t let him down as you lifted your head, trying to take all of him, alternating from sucking him slow, to hard and fast. Eric’s head started to feel heavy, he gripped the headboard rails as he continued to push himself in and out of your mouth. The effect you had on him was slowly pushing him to the edge, but he didn’t want this to end so soon. He pulls out from your mouth and you whine.

“Sorry darling but it’s my turn. I want to taste you now” he leaves a quick kiss on your chest before flipping you over, so you were in an all fours position, with your ass up.

You didn’t realize how wet you’ve gotten the whole time, because once Eric rips your lace panties off of you and presses a soft kiss on your folds, you cry upon hearing the sounds of your soaked core mixed with Eric’s groans. From finally feeling touched from where you needed him most.

“Fuck, sucking me off turned you on this much, huh?” Eric mutters, and all you can do is moan as he goes back to licking and ravishing your sweet pussy. As if it wasn’t enough, Eric slaps your ass, the sting makes you arch your back. You were dripping with so much need that your knees threatened to buckle, but it felt so good that you just pushed your butt into the air. 

“More, daddy please” you whimper, gripping a fistful of the bedsheet.

He slaps your ass once more, it’s harder this time, earning another cry from you. Eric returns to licking your clit while shoving two fingers in your cunt incessantly, the squelching noises turning him on so hard. He needed you like this, he could make you come apart multiple times, but there was something he enjoyed about playing with your pussy so much before entering you.

Once he felt you tighten around his two digits, he knew you were close. He pulls his fingers out of you completely, sucking them as you whine again from the loss of contact.

“You think you’re ready for my cock now?” He asks.

“Y-yes!” you attempt in the daze he put you in. “I’m daddy’s good girl. I’m ready for anything daddy wants!”

With that he smirks, aligning his cock teasingly on your folds and he groans with how wet you are, it’s so much to coat him. Just as he wanted. You whine from the teasing and Eric spanks you to behave.

“Be patient, darling,” he warns.

He enters you with ease, you were soaking so much, honestly both of you could come here and now. Instead Eric holds his breath, pushing in and out of you slowly. He holds you by the waist, pulling you closer to him that your back is against his chest. His breath warm against your neck sends shivers all over you. Your eyes lock, and you can’t help but smile at the expression in his gaze, as he loosens the chain of the choker; adjusting its position so the string of chains is resting on the back of your neck.

“This just like what you imagined, yeah?” he murmurs against your skin, his voice low and rough. His hands grip your hips, his fingers digging in just enough to remind you of the strength he holds.

You nod at him “Everything and more.”

Eric presses a soft kiss on your forehead, before he presses one hand on your back for you to bend down for him again. He smooths his hand over your back before spanking you once more, all while snapping his cock back in, you could swear his balls slapped against your pussy.

His thrusts start to grow rough and animalistic. You’re practically burying your face into the soft mattress, which muffles your cries. If only you could see how you both looked right now, your mind would go haywire.

“Don’t muffle your sounds now, baby,” he leans, reaching down, sweeping your hair over your shoulder, exposing the nape of your neck. “I want to hear how good I make you feel.”

He pulls on the chain, causing you to arch your back. You felt your heart race, the intensity of the moment leaving you lightheaded with desire. Eric swears he’s heard your cries of pleasure so many times, it’s music to his ears. But the moan you let out just now was something else. It’s beautiful and sexy. All this from the choker clasping tight on your neck, mixed with the feeling of his steady thrusts in your pussy.

All this for him. It drove him so mad with desire his eyes rolled back as he continued rolling his hips, while holding on to the chain.

“Is this too much for my girl?” he grunted.

“No! It's perfect! P-please…don’t stop! Not until I’ve cum hard on your cock” you manage through strained breaths, the choker was squeezing your throat but it was just the right amount that added to your arousal.

Eric fucks his cock relentlessly into you until you’re screaming when your climax shatters you hard. You drop yourself on the mattress, gripping the sheets as Eric continues fucking you through it; your soaked cunt helping him chase his own release. You were so dazed from your climax yet the way he roughly pounded himself into you, your eyes widened as you began to feel a second climax threatening to snap.

You come a second time, and your cries meld with his in an erotic symphony, filling the room.

“Fuck…” his breath ragged, as he leans down pulling you to his embrace. Eric held you close, peppering soft kisses from your neck to your shoulder. His cock still inside you. You could feel the mix of your juices with his spilling a little on the bed, but it didn’t matter. You were high on cloud nine to even care.

“Baby, are you still with me?” he whispers in your ear, while caressing your stomach.

“Fuck me like that again, okay,” you whimpered. Eric chuckles in response. Of course you wanted more, you always did. Even though you were clearly out of strength and needed a break, you’d always ask for more.

“As long as you want, baby, as long as you want” he reassures you.

[rapturously]

can i please request paul from lost boys and stockings, this has been ingrained in my mind, anything else is up to you

➾ pairing ; paul (the lost boys) x fem!reader.

FORMAT: drabble — requested.

WORD COUNT: 3.7K.

WARNINGS: SMUT! (mdni), paul wears a choker in this fic, groping, making out, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, cunnilingus, oral sex (f!receiving), face-sitting, stocking/hosiery kink, scent kink, marking, biting, hair-pulling, paul is a boob guy for sure, dirty talk, fingering (f!receiving), tiddy sucking, body worship

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this request was ridiculously sexy and changed the trajectory of my life ngl :’) so thank you for this because I had a ton of fun writing it !!! as always, thank you all so much for your love and support! I’m still trucking on with requests!

Vibrant strands of ribbon held a sizable black box together as it sat directly in front of you, poised along the edge of your makeshift vanity. It was intended to be a surprise — if you could even call it that.

Paul made some offhand comment about wanting to see you in something sultry, dolled up in lace and frilly garters — you wanted to fulfill that for him. You couldn’t tell if it was serious or simply a colorful joke intended to make you flustered.

Out of sheer impulse and the desire to shock Paul, you’d bought lingerie at a shoddy boutique down at the boardwalk, complete with sheer, black stockings. You wondered if he’d care about it when he saw you — it was going to come off, anyway. What was the use?

Candlelight danced across the cavernous alcove of your nest, casting flickering shadows across the tapestry-covered walls. The box seemed to call to you like a siren’s song, tempting you — you hadn’t even tried it on yet, either.

A gilded mirror sat soundly amongst your belongings, as if coaxing you closer. Curiosity and the desire to see how you looked in such risqué garments got the better of you, prompting you to push yourself up from your mattress.

You had time — Paul was out hunting, and you could do a little twirl in the mirror and take it off.

You clamored toward your vanity, hastily plucking the box from its perch as you unraveled the spool of ribbon that held it all together. It fluttered toward the foot of your bed, preparing to be long forgotten as you unveiled the sheet lace and black fabric.

Satin and lace glided between your fingers as you caressed the material, holding up the set toward the glower of orange light. You promptly undressed, not that there was much to begin with aside from an oversized shirt. It smelled of stale hairspray — Paul, no doubt.

It felt strange, putting on a getup that you never envisioned yourself in to begin with. Admittedly, your confidence had blossomed since being with Paul — he was unapologetically himself, and that had some effect on you, too.

Once you shed your shirt and undergarments, you reached for the lingerie, tugging it on with a bit of brute force. It was tight — unnaturally snug, but you assumed that it was intentional. You sat down on the edge of your bed, tugging the stockings on until they perched around the middle of your thighs.

Your reflection was nothing short of stunning — a goddess incarnate. You stepped closer, twisting and turning every which way, occasionally plucking at the placement of the fabric. Some of it felt itchy and uncomfortable, as if it’d strangle you.

Smoothing your hands across your stocking-clad legs, you continued to twirl, catching glimpses of yourself in the glittering glass. You contemplated keeping it on, maybe throwing a robe over it, but it seemed a little too tacky for your taste.

“Woah,” You nearly jumped out of your own flesh at the sound of Paul’s voice. You couldn’t see his reflection — he ceased to exist in the mirror, standing at the entrance to your nest with a dumbfounded expression. “What’s all that you got on, babe?”

Heat crawled over your flesh, causing you to burn with embarrassment. You bit at your lower lip, deliberately swiveling around until you faced him. “It’s nothing.” You mumbled, reaching for the corner of your blanket in an attempt to cover yourself up.

Paul was swift, as fast as a bolt of lightning as he flicked the blanket aside, circling around you like a wolf would a lamb. He let out a whistle of approval, clearly reveling in the sight of you. “Nothing? C’mon, you’re not serious, are you? You look gorgeous.”

“I wanted to surprise you,” You confessed, twisting your hands together as you rocked up and down upon the balls of your feet. “I know you said something about wanting to see me in lingerie. I wasn’t sure how you’d like it.” With a soft exhale, you felt his hand brush against your waist.

His mouth curled into a lopsided grin, eyes bright with obsession and adoration. There was something mildly crazed about his expression, but he was beyond thrilled with the visual feast he was being treated to. “How I’d like it?” Paul inquired, seemingly bewildered.

There was a sudden softness to his tone, as if he cared little for what he thought. To Paul, you were nothing short of delectably gorgeous — it didn’t matter what you wore.

You nodded, chewing at the inside of your cheek. “I suppose so. I mean, it’s just lingerie. I figured you’d rip all of it off anyway.” You mused, watching with intrigue as his countenance contorted into a look of shock.

“Might rip some of it,” Paul smirked, digits hooking themselves into the front of your panties. “But these?” He gestured toward your stockings, which rose up to the middle of your thighs. “These are gonna stay on.”

With a sense of finality, Paul grabbed your hips, sitting down on the bed with you planted firmly in his lap. He ran his hands over the sheer material covering your thighs, feeling his cock twitch inside of his jeans. You were elated, draping your arms around the back of his neck.

Your fingers dove into his stiff, coarse mane of blonde tresses, raking through until you’d grabbed at the roots. Paul kissed you hard, open-mouthed and deliciously sloppy as he grabbed at the swell of your ass. Your breasts looked perfect in that brassiere, but he preferred to see them unclad.

“Shit, baby, you smell so good,” Paul groaned, burying his face into the crook of your neck, littering every inch of flesh with sloppy kisses and bites. “You look so fuckin’ hot like this.” He murmured, and that made you shiver in delight, attempting to press your thighs together.

A swirling, molten heat sank into the pit of your stomach, causing your back to arch into his embrace. Your mouth clamored for his, your lips colliding with one another’s as he groped at your thighs. Paul thoroughly enjoyed the way you looked in stockings — mesmerizing, really.

The gesture was thoughtful — as much as Paul found some sentiment in it, he cared more for fucking you within an inch of your life in those stupid stockings. His mind veered off with lascivious thoughts, all of them purely unholy as he swept his tongue across your lower lip.

Those wandering hands of his immediately reached for the clasps of your brassiere, but instead of trying to properly remove it, he simply tore it apart. You gasped, watching as he discarded the material somewhere on the ground, absentmindedly licking at his lips.

“Paul,” You huffed, able to feel his erection grinding into your core. Goosebumps coalesced along your spine as his hand danced from your back to your hips, digits skirting underneath the waistband of your panties. A soft moan escaped you when he made contact with your aching cunt. “Please.”

A thin sheen of slick coated his eager digits, and Paul wasted no time in touching you. He was grinning, appraising you with a look of passion. “Wet for me already, babe?” He crooned, pressing his mouth against the column of your throat.

Your head bobbed up and down in a lackadaisical nod, lips agape as a simpering moan escaped you. “Feels so good,” Without missing a beat, his thumb grinded into your clit, dragging around the bundle of nerves in agonizingly-slow circles. “I need you so bad.”

“Yeah?” His voice emerged as a tantalizing purr, tongue sweeping across your jaw. Your flesh tasted velveteen, saccharine upon his tongue. There was nothing sweeter than you — his human, his mate. “Need you more.” Paul teased, nipping at your earlobe.

The ghoulish choker adorning his neck served as the perfect anchor as you hooked two fingers beneath it, dragging his mouth back to yours. The enthralled look within his eyes made your breath hitch, cunt clenching pathetically around nothing at all.

Heat and pure tension bled between the both of you, and Paul’s eyes became dilated with lust, glistening with a golden sheen. He kissed you hard, fingers burying themselves between your thighs as he pushed two digits inside of you.

A pleasured gasp escaped you as you rocked atop his hand, savoring the sensation of his fingers pumping in and out of you. The heady, honey-thick scent of your arousal was a delectable smell to him — and Paul wanted so much more.

His attention with kissing was notoriously short-lived as he kissed his way down to your chest — his favorite. Paul licked his lips as if he were preparing to have the most delicious meal, pursing his pouty mouth around one of your nipples.

A calloused palm encircled your other breast, groping and kneading into the soft, pliant flesh. He pinched and tugged at your nipple, mouth suckling at the other. His hand was gingerly rocking back and forth between your legs, pistoning in and out of your tight cunt.

“P—Paul!” A whine tore past your lips, hips jolting and surging into the rhythmic ministrations of his hand. Whatever had gotten into him, you loved it — you wanted him to destroy you. Your hands tugged on his mane of sandy-blonde tresses, head rolling backwards.

“You’ve got the prettiest tits, sweet thing,” Paul groaned against your flesh, mouth hotly returning to your chest. He sucked and nibbled until you were squirming, deciding to switch sides and shower the rest of you in attention. “Wish I could stay here forever.” He mumbled.

Another wave of heat rolled through you, your expression a concoction of pleasure and embarrassment. His compliments were delightful, but sometimes you didn’t believe them. One of your hands fell into his lap, palming at his jean-clad erection.

“Can if you want.” You uttered, feeling his lips curl into a devious grin around your breast. You kept one hand curled into a tight fist, grabbing at his hair as the other wrangled his belt off. It felt unfair that Paul was doing everything.

Paul thoroughly enjoyed listening to your thoughts whenever the two of you fucked — and he didn’t feel like he was doing everything. He wanted to, anyway. “Lookin’ so gorgeous in these,” He huffed, hand dropping to your thigh as he hooked it behind your knee. “Could you wear them all the time? Just for me?”

It was hard not to giggle at Paul’s subtle demand, though the noise quickly tapered off into a moan when his teeth grazed your nipple. His digits slowed, sluggishly rutting in and out of your cunt, thumb focused on playing with your clit. You whimpered, unable to keep from writhing atop his lap.

When he tore his mouth away from your breast, he continued his path of bites and hickeys, leaving behind a trail from your collarbone to sternum. Paul knew what he wanted, shedding his jacket as he tugged his hand away. You groaned, grabbing at his wrist in an attempt to redirect him.

“Please don’t stop,” You whined, feeling his body vibrate with soft chuckles. Paul wasn’t one to edge you like this, but he seemed to have something in-mind. You watched as he moved back on the bed, laying down all the way. “What are you doing?”

Paul grinned, wolfish as could be as he wrapped his fingers around the waistband of your panties, and pulled — the sound of fabric being torn asunder reverberated throughout the alcove. He bumped you up towards his chest, hands hooked behind your knees, digits caressing the material of your stockings.

“Lettin’ you sit,” He mused, and when you were close enough, he kissed your inner thighs. “Unless you don’t want to.” Paul’s nose wrinkled in amusement when you immediately shook your head, knowing exactly what he had intended for you.

“Please,” You bucked forward, desperate to sit on his face. “Paul, please!” You begged, shamelessly pleading with your boyfriend to let you ride his mouth. He hadn’t done something like this before — the opportunity was far too tantalizing.

Through thick lashes and a cheshire smirk, Paul deliberately moved you forward, handling you as if you weighed nothing at all. He bit and kissed at your thighs until he sat you down on his face, wasting no time in lapping at your aching cunt.

If it were up to him, he would’ve stayed here, glued to you for the rest of the night. He was notoriously sloppy and messy, tongue greedily lapping along your slit, hands caging you in behind your knees. You moaned, fingers twisting into his hair, hips rocking forward just slightly.

His cock throbbed within his jeans, feeling confined and uncomfortably snug. Paul was unabashedly passionate, lips sliding from your cunt to your clit, stubbled jaw grinding against your inner thighs. He could feel your nylon-clad knees squeeze toward his head.

Your stomach felt like mush, a pit of heat and swirling warmth as you nearly collapsed altogether. His lips pursed around your clit, suckling and teasing that sensitive clutch of nerves before he returned to lapping at your core, interchanging the two.

“Paul,” You moaned, knowing that you wouldn’t last in this state. Every fiber of your being burned with something incredible, a sense of ecstasy that made you shudder in delight. Paul urged you forward, mouth relentlessly assaulting your cunt until your legs quivered. “Paul!”

His name fell from your lips like a prayer, as if it were the only word you knew how to say. It was a chant, burned into the recesses of your mind as you rocked forward, feeling his hands relocate to the swell of your hips.

In one movement, he had you pinned down on your back, face buried between your thighs. Your legs involuntarily locked him in, threatening to suffocate him — not that he cared in the slightest. Paul’s palms clapped into the pliant flesh of your thighs, fingers slipping against your stockings.

He ate you out like a man starved, tongue raking hot embers across your aching core, hips haplessly rutting themselves against the mattress for a shred of friction. He was painfully hard, getting off on the feeling of nylon pressing into his face and the taste of your cunt.

Your back arched, hands clawing at his unruly tresses as he sucked at your clit again, a low groan stuck within the back of his throat. “M’close,” You slurred, dizzy and drunk with desire as you pushed your hips forward, feeling him drag you onto his tongue. “Fuck!”

Paul loved it when you had a mouth on you — the expletives meant that he was doing a good job. It was all the encouragement and spurring-on that he needed to help you finish, tongue dipping toward your entrance before returning to toy with your clit.

“That’s it, baby,” Paul crooned, licking his lips like a dog as he raked his nails over your leg, letting them snag on the nylon. He was enthralled by the way that you looked — naked save for those stockings of yours. “You taste so good.” He sighed, unbuckling his jeans with a sudden haste.

Between the white-hot explosion of your orgasm and Paul’s manic undressing, you composed yourself just enough to get your hands in his mesh shirt. You wanted it off, tugging at it with a sense of urgency as he stooped down to kiss you — it was hot and messy, accompanied by a barrage of tongue.

His cock was pretty, just like the rest of him.

“You really like these, don’t you?” You mumbled, hooking a leg around his hips. There was a visible spark within his eyes when you did that, chest rising and falling with a flurry of excitement.

Paul nodded, mouth tilting into a dazed, lopsided grin. “Yeah,” He confessed, shamelessly grabbing your other leg in order to hitch it up around his hips. “Fuck, you just look so good in them. Prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” He murmured, hand falling to knead at your swollen breast.

The orange glow of candlelight bathed him in a series of softer hues, igniting his hair with a peculiar shade. You kept your legs locked around him, hands moving toward the column of his throat as he pushed his cock into you, being deliberately gentle, to start.

He looked perfect — that choker he wore around only made him prettier.

You coaxed him close for a kiss, open-mouthed and full of an unrestrained need as he began to fuck you at a steady pace. Paul could get rough and wild if he wanted to, but this time, he seemed fixated on slow and steady — that was more than enough for you.

Your nails raked across the nape of his neck, twining one fist into the roots of his coarse, stiff tresses, the other applying pressure against his neck. The groan he released into your kiss made your cunt clench around his cock, body simmering with another pleasant wave of heat.

Paul bit at your lower lip, sharp enough to withdraw a pearl of blood. He lapped at it before you could say anything, grinning like a wolf, eyes lascivious and stirring with lust as he moved forward. His pace increased into a steady rhythm, fucking you with an incendiary passion.

“Don’t stop.” You whispered, voice hoarse and strung-out with desire. Your chest blossomed with adoration, meeting his cerulean-eyed gaze as your hand trailed from his neck to his jaw. Paul appeared mesmerized and transfixed, hues glistening with a golden sheen.

With another roll of his hips, you lifted your body just slightly, colliding with him. A soft moan escaped you, heat crawling across your flesh, stomach turning to liquid. Your legs tightened around his hips, feeling his lips kiss their way down to your chest once more.

Paul shamelessly took one of your breasts into his mouth again, lips pursed around your nipple as he sucked and bit at the sensitive bud. The steady roll of his thrusts soon increased in pace, cock rutting into you as he reached every perfect spot imaginable.

You whimpered, back arching off of the wrinkled, tousled sheets and into his ministrations, eyes fluttering shut. He showered your swollen chest in constant attention, alternating between suckling and kissing as he hungrily bit at your collarbone. The crescent-shaped indents were merely extensions of his affection.

“So perfect for me, baby,” Paul mumbled against your silken flesh, fucking into you with a noticeable fervor as you squeezed his his hips again. The scratch of your nylon stockings against his skin made him shiver, bucking into you as he kissed at your tits. “Fuck, you’re all mine.” He groaned.

His noises were like music to your ears, breathy grunts and sighs, shameless praises that made your entire body tingle with bliss. You tugged on his tresses again, whimpering when he dragged his cock out nearly all the way before pounding right back into you.

Inch by perfect inch, he filled you up, littering your body in countless marks as if you were a canvas, made just for him. His hands grabbed at your thighs, kneading and groping at the pliant flesh there as he rocked forward, huffing and grunting as he picked up speed.

A dizzying sensation washed over you, ecstasy intermingled with love. He was all over you, consuming you like a fever that you couldn’t sweat out — and you didn’t want to.

Between the flurry, rushed clamor of lips, tongue, bodies, and heat, your scent was emblazoned within Paul’s mind, burned there for days to come. His senses swam with only you, something so overwhelmingly intoxicating for him. The excitable thrumming of your heart made him exhale, fucking into you again and again.

A moan tore past your parted lips, feeling Paul’s rutting slow to a crawl as he pushed into you one last time. A soft grunt escaped him as a few ropes of hot seed filled you, but he pulled out halfway through, painting your stomach and tits in a sticky sheen.

He was aiming for your chest — mostly.

You came in-tandem with him, cunt clenching around nothing at all as you dropped one leg from around his hips, regaining your composure. You caught your breath, letting out a soft huff as you watched him roll away from you.

“You should clean up your mess.” You giggled, grabbing at the corner of one of the blankets strewn across the ground. Before you could clean yourself up, Paul returned with a cloth — wherever he’d gotten it from, you had no idea. He perched himself in front of you, wiping away his cum from your body.

“M’not sorry, babe. You look pretty like that,” Paul smirked, hair a disheveled, crazed mane of flaxen-gold as he tossed the rag elsewhere. He unceremoniously fell onto the mattress in a heap. “You’re keepin’ these on — permanently.” He flicked a finger against your stockings to make his point.

An amused chuckle escaped you as you shrugged your shoulders, settling down beside him. Paul sluggishly crawled over to snuggle, resting his head atop your chest as he’d done several times before. “I don’t know, I like surprising you.” You mused.

Paul snickered, tracing idle, sweet patterns into your leg, other arm hitched around your hips. “Oh yeah? You got any other surprises?” It was an open-ended invoking of a challenge — and you had some ideas.

“A few. You’ll have to be patient.” A gasp left you when Paul playfully bit at your jaw, unable to keep his hands and his mouth off of you. The nest smelled like you — and the scent of sex. Those were his favorites.

“I don’t know about that, sweet thing,” He uttered, squeezing into your hips with a lascivious expression. “I’ve got a few surprises of my own.”

[avocado-writing]

I have! a nsfw request!

a small drabble on astarion with a reader that is used to always sharing a room/having someone in the room next to theirs so they’ve gotten exceptionally good at being quiet and he has to “re-train” them to be vocal? 🫣

”come on, darling. you can do better than that.”

you reach out desperately for a pillow, hoping to find soft satin to bite down on and smother your moans. you have no such luck - astarion threw them all off of the bed just after he laid you down on it.

gods, he has you wrapped around his little finger, and you’d rather be nowhere else.

you watch the long, marble line of his torso glisten in the candlelight, sweat wrung from his pores from the exertion of not simply fucking you into brainlessness. your thoughts are already cottony-thick but your lover will not let you float away into ecstasy. no, tonight he is your teacher, and you his willing student.

he is going to go slow until you he gets what he wants.

“louder, darling,” he hums, sweetly. he is trying to eke out every little noise from you and make it thaumaturgy-loud. too long the two of you have been beholden to silence, always muffling your pleasure in order to hide your coupling from the rest of the camp. tonight though, you are alone, and astarion is making very good use of it.

“astarion, I can’t,” you whine. he draws his hips back, dragging his raw cock out of you before slamming it back in. his head brushes the sweet spot nestled in your walls and you yowl, crying out like an animal. above you a white-fanged grin spreads across his face.

“perfect. a little more, now…”

another thrust and you moan long and loud. it’s a bit performative, but at the same time there’s truth at its heart - you don’t remember the last time you were fucked so beautifully.

“astarion!” you cry out his name this time, a prayer, a jubilation. your throat will be sore by the end of tonight. of that, you are certain.

“that’s it, pet. there’s hope for you yet, eh?”

he is impossibly smug above you. in revenge, you link your ankles at the small of his back and use his surprise to bring his hips flush to yours, bottoming him out. he squeals and you cackle in triumph.

“menace,” he grumbles, not at all upset.

“tease,” you bite back, and kiss him.

taglist: @ghosti02art @sadandanxiouswtf @yeethaw13@trappedinlimbo15@infinitely-kate@dhampling@wereallbrokenangels@tilldeathdonugget@useless-contributions @beardedladyqueen @hopeful-n-sad

[happilyhertale]

12 Days of Smuffmas

Dec 12th – Candlelight and collaring

A Night to Remember – Modern Daemon Targaryen

Dec 13th – Presents and praise kink

A Modern Day Prince – Modern Daemon Targaryen

Dec 14th – Blizzard and blowjob

Snowbound Warmth – Tom Bennett

Dec 15th – Mulled wine and mutual masturbation

A Dragon's Respite – Modern Daemon Targaryen

Dec 16th – Fireplace and face fucking

The Quiet by the Fire– Daemon Targaryen

Dec 17th – Tinsel and talking dirty

A Christmas Tease – Tom Bennett

Dec 18th – Board games and breath play

Take my breath away – Modern Daemon Targaryen

Dec 19th – Holly and hair pulling

Advent Desires – Modern Aemond Targaryen

Dec 20th – Stockings and sex toys

Stocking Surprise – Modern Daemon Targaryen

Dec 21st – Dressing up and dry humping

Satin and Sin – Modern Daemon Targaryen

Dec 22nd – Party and position changes

Take your Place – Daemon Targaryen

Dec 23rd – Home videos and voyeurism

Captured Moments – Modern Daemon Targaryen

Prompts by @ewanmitchellcrumbs ♥️

12 Days of Smuff (2023)

[kiesbrainjuice]

— PRETTY GIRL ! timeskip!bokuto kotaro

➥ syn : you come home from work and he relaxes you

➥ wc : 2.1k

➥ tw : smut, gentle smut, multiple orgasm, praise, oral (fem!receiving), fluffy smut, fuck over a song, guess that’s it! <3

You arrive at Bokuto’s place just as the sun begins to set, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. The soft glow from the sunset filters through the windows, casting a warm light in the living room. Bokuto opens the door, his hair slightly tousled and his golden eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Hey there, beautiful,” he greets you, his voice filled with warmth. He pulls you into a tight hug, his muscular arms wrapping around you. You can feel the steady beat of his heart and the heat of his body against yours. He leans down to kiss your forehead tenderly.

The living room is transformed into a cozy retreat. Soft pillows and fluffy blankets are spread out on the floor, inviting you to relax. The gentle flicker of a vanilla-scented candle fills the air with a sweet aroma, adding to the romantic atmosphere. Bokuto has clearly gone all out to make this evening special.

“I thought we could have a relaxing night in,” he says, his eyes full of love and anticipation. He leads you to the couch and hands you a glass of your favorite wine, his fingers brushing against yours as he does so. The touch sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

As you settle in beside him, Bokuto puts on some soft, slow music that fills the room with a soothing melody. He starts to gently massage your shoulders, his strong, skilled hands working out the tension that has built up over the week. You close your eyes and let out a contented sigh, feeling the stress melt away under his touch.

“You’ve been working so hard,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. “You deserve to relax.”

You lean into his touch, savoring the feeling of his hands on your skin. His fingers find knots and sore spots, and he works them out with practiced ease, his movements both firm and gentle. The combination of his touch and the calming music lulls you into a state of blissful relaxation.

After a while, Bokuto leans in closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “How about we move this to the bedroom?” he whispers, his voice low and inviting. The suggestion sends a thrill of excitement through you, and you nod, your heart racing with anticipation.

Bokuto's strong hand envelops yours as he stands and guides you off the couch. Together, you walk down a dimly-lit hallway to a bedroom adorned with flickering candles. The scent of vanilla and sandalwood fills the air, creating a cozy and romantic ambiance. Your eyes are drawn to the perfectly-made bed, covered in smooth satin sheets that shimmer in the candlelight.

Bokuto turns to you, his eyes dark with desire. He steps closer, his hands resting on your hips as he pulls you against him. His lips find yours in a slow, passionate kiss, his mouth warm and soft.

As his lips press harder against yours, his hands roam over your body, tracing the curves and valleys that only he knows. The intensity of the kiss grows as he pulls you closer and deeper into his embrace.

As his lips graze against yours, he whispers in a husky voice, "You are beautiful." He traces intricate designs on your exposed stomach with gentle fingertips, pulling you closer. A spark ignites within you at the feeling of his skin against yours, and you can't help but crave him more. "I can't get enough of you," he says, his desire evident in his voice.

You can feel the heat building between you, the air thick with anticipation and longing. Bokuto’s kisses trail down your neck, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

His fingers trace soft circles along your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His lips brush against yours, teasing and tantalizing, before claiming them in a searing kiss. He holds you close, his body pressed against yours, as he explores every inch of you with a skilled touch that ignites a fire within you. You lose yourself in the moment, completely consumed by the pleasure he brings you.

He scoops you up in his strong arms and gently lays you down on the soft, inviting sheets. As he hovers over you, his intense gaze filled with adoration and desire roams over your body, making your skin tingle with anticipation. His hand cups your cheek and his thumb brushes over your lips, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he murmurs, his voice husky with longing. “I want to make you feel good.”

His calloused fingers glide over your skin with practiced precision, leaving tingling trails in their wake. As he traces the curves of your body, his touch is both tender and insistent, searching for all the hidden places that make you tremble. The room is alive with the symphony of your shared pleasure, the soft melody of a love song playing softly in the background only adding to the intimate atmosphere between the two of you.

As Bokuto’s hands trail over your body, his touch ignites a fire within you. With a menacing glint in his eye, he begins to slowly unbutton your shirt, never breaking eye contact. Each button removed feels like a heavy weight dropping onto your chest, building anticipation for what lies beneath. Every touch of his fingers against your skin sends shivers down your spine and you can't help but wonder what dark desires are driving him in this moment.The anticipation in his gaze makes your heart race faster. He pushes the fabric aside, revealing your bare skin to the cool air and his hungry gaze.

As his hands travel down your body, leaving a trail of fiery kisses and sharp nips, you feel yourself melting into him. His lips trace the curves of your collarbone and down to your shoulders, sending shivers of pleasure through you.Each kiss sends a shiver of pleasure through you, his breath warm against your skin. As he moves lower, his rough hands slide under the lace of your bra, effortlessly lifting it up to reveal your breasts. His warm palms cup them gently, his fingers teasing your sensitized skin, and you feel a heat spread through your body as your nipples harden under

You feel his warm breath on your skin as he trails kisses down your neck, lingering at your collarbone before moving lower. You arch into him, letting out a soft moan as his mouth finds one of your nipples. He takes it into his mouth, his lips and tongue working in tandem to elicit a pleasurable response from your body. As his hand kneads the other breast, you can feel yourself getting lost in the sensations, each touch driving you wild with need.

Bokuto's rough palm grazed down your quivering body, igniting a trail of sparks along its path. His calloused fingers slid under the waistband of your pants, teasing you with light touches over your most sensitive spot. You writhed beneath him, desperate for more as he continued to torture you with gentle strokes through the fabric.

“Bokuto,” you gasp, your voice trembling with a mix of desperation and lust. "Please," you beg, your body aching for his touch as desire courses through every inch of your being.

His eyes lock onto yours, a sinister smirk curling his lips. "Speak up, baby. What is it that you want?"

"I need you," you hiss, each word dripping with desire and desperation. Your voice is barely audible, a seductive whisper that sends shivers down their spine.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he replies, his voice low and filled with hunger. He quickly strips you of your remaining clothes, his own following shortly after. The sight of his muscular, athletic body makes your pulse quicken with anticipation.

With bated breath, you watch as he kneels between your parted legs. His hands trace the soft skin of your thighs, sending shivers of anticipation through your body. He leans in closer, his lips teasingly brushing against your inner thigh before moving towards your most sensitive spot. Each exhale of his breath brings you closer to the edge, the overwhelming anticipation almost unbearable.

Your lips part in a gasp as his mouth finally finds yours. His tongue dances against your wetness, sending waves of pleasure through your body. He traces the shape of your lips with delicate strokes before delving deeper, exploring every inch of your core. Each movement is calculated and deliberate, driving you to the brink of ecstasy over and over again. A moan escapes your lips as he alternates between slow, gentle licks and more intense, focused pressure, pushing you closer to the edge with each passing moment. “F-fuck, bo!”

“God, you taste so good,” he murmurs between strokes, his voice filled with lust. His calloused hands dominate your hips, commanding you to stay still as he ravishes you, sending electric currents of ecstasy through every inch of your being.

Your hands instinctively reach for his hair, savoring the softness of each strand as you eagerly pull him closer. The heat between your bodies intensifies as he responds with equal fervor, his lips and tongue expertly caressing your most sensitive area, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. You feel yourself teetering on the edge of pure bliss, every sensation heightening as his touch becomes more urgent and skillful.

“Bo, I-I’m so close…ah!,” you gasp, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching orgasm.

He increases the intensity, his tongue moving faster over your clit, his lips applying just the right amount of pressure and wet sounds mask the current music a little. When the climax finally hits, you cry out of pleasure “Bo, oh my…fuck!”, your body shaking with the force of it. You cry out his name, your hands gripping his hair tightly as waves of pleasure crash over you.

Just when you think you can’t take any more, he pulls back, his eyes dark with desire. He moves up your body, his skin sliding against yours as he positions himself at your entrance and you feel his huge length lined with your pussy. He pauses, looking down at you with a mixture of love and lust.

“I love you,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion.

“I love you too,” you reply, your voice trembling with anticipation.

With that, he pushes into you slowly, filling you completely as his tip reach already your cervix. “God, you take me so well, baby…” The feeling of him inside you is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and overstimulation. He moves slowly at first, his thrusts deep and slow, each one driving you impatient. “P-please, Bo…”

“God, you feel so good,” he groans, his hands gripping your hips as he moves within you. “You want me to get faster, baby? Say you want it,”

“I w-want it, god…p-please!” you breathe, your hands roaming over his back, feeling the muscles flex beneath your touch. “F-ah! Faster…”

As your bodies move together, yours jolting from each fast thrusts, the pace quicken rapidly by your pleading cries. The room is filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure, your moans and cries mingling with the music and the soft flicker of the candlelight. “Y-yes right here…!”

Bokuto’s hands grip your hips, "good girl, that’s it baby,” pulling you closer with each thrust. His eyes never leave yours, the intensity of his gaze making the connection between you even deeper. You can feel the heat building within you, the pleasure growing with each movement, each touch, each kiss.

“Tell me how it feels, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl. “I want to hear you…”

“f-feels s-so good Bo!” you gasp, your body arching against him. “I-Im coming…fuck!” Bokuto groan in your ear “cum, cum for me pretty girl, cream all over me.”

When the climax finally comes, it crashes over you like a wave, overwhelming in its intensity. You cry out his name,"God…ah! B-Bokuto!” your body trembling with pleasure as you reach the peak. Bokuto follows shortly after, his own release sending shudders through his body as he collapses against you.

For a few moments, you lie there together, your bodies entwined, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. The room is filled with the lingering scent of vanilla and the warmth of your shared love.

After a while, Bokuto shifts, pulling you into his arms. He kisses your forehead, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin. “I love you, Y/N” he whispers again, his voice filled with sincerity.

“I love you too, Bokuto.”

Ⓒ kiesbrainjuice all rights reserved. please to not plagiarize, repost, or translate !

tag : @haechansbbg

[archivequinn]

I loved your breaking up angst fic! Can I request an angst with a happy ending fic.

Eddie and Reader get into an argument and he does a really sweet gesture to make up for it.

I love your fics and always look forward to reading them when they pop up on my dashboard 🥰

Hello lovely! I hope your day is going very well. Your kind words make me very happy and I'm glad you like my fic. I wish I was able to write a fic like you wanted and I hope you enjoy reading it. I look forward to your comments. 🩷

Summary: Eddie forgets about your anniversary and makes up the night for you after you argue with him. angst to happy ending, fluff.

credit for dividers: @saradika-graphics

While waiting for Eddie to come home, you excitedly rolled up your sleeves to prepare for a day that would make him feel how special it was to you. Since the morning, there had been only one thought on your mind: celebrating your anniversary perfectly. You decided to prepare everything with both great care and love to make it flawless.

First, you headed to the kitchen. You thought about Eddie's favorite dishes: maybe the creamy pasta he's loved since childhood, or that amazing dessert you both recently discovered together. You took out the ingredients from the fridge and carefully began the preparations. As the clinking sounds of pots and pans filled the kitchen, you imagined how the evening would unfold. Once the food was ready, you elegantly plated it—creating a meal Eddie could never say no to.

Afterward, you moved on to setting the dinner table. You chose a soft champagne-colored tablecloth, something both romantic and elegant. On top, you placed tall white candles. When the idea of decorating the candles with red rose petals crossed your mind, a sweet sparkle lit up in your eyes. Once the petals were scattered across the table, it transformed into a work of art. The plates and silverware were meticulously arranged—every detail thoughtfully designed so Eddie would notice how much effort you'd put into this.

Next, it was time to get yourself ready. You picked that stunning dress—the one you were sure Eddie couldn't take his eyes off of every time he saw you wearing it. A long, elegant gown... perhaps black satin or one with lace details in a deep burgundy—whatever you chose, you felt incredible in it. As the dress brushed lightly against the floor, you twirled in front of the mirror and smiled at your reflection.

You began applying your makeup. A subtle eyeliner to highlight your eyes, a warm pink blush on your cheeks, and that favorite lipstick you loved. Once your makeup was finished, the mirror didn't just reflect your image; it showed someone who would absolutely take Eddie’s breath away. You styled your hair the way Eddie always adored: maybe natural waves or an elegant updo—whichever you chose, you felt absolutely beautiful at that moment.

For the background music, you put on the playlist you and Eddie had created together. Your favorite songs as a couple brought back happy memories one by one. The metal riffs resonated with the energy Eddie always brought whenever he picked up his guitar. But the playlist also had one or two slow, romantic songs Eddie had sneakily added as a surprise for you. Remembering how Eddie had thought of you while making this playlist brought an uncontrollable smile to your face.

When everything was finally ready, you gave the living room one last glance. The table glowed in the candlelight, soft music played in the background, and the delicious aroma of food filled the air. And of course, there was you—prepared and brimming with excitement for this special moment. Thinking about the expression on Eddie’s face as he walked through the door helped calm your nerves just a little.

The hours ticked by, and Eddie’s arrival was drawing closer. Everything was set, and now all that was left was to wait for him. Before greeting him, you took a few deep breaths and checked your reflection in the mirror one last time. Tonight had to be unforgettable.

Hours had passed. At first, you eagerly waited for the moment Eddie would walk through the door, but over time, anticipation slowly turned into despair. You had meticulously prepared the meal, elegantly decorated the table, and considered every detail, yet Eddie was nowhere to be found. Your phone remained silent; no messages, no explanations. It silently tore at you.

Initially, you tried to console yourself. "Maybe he’s stuck in traffic," you thought. "Maybe work ran late, but he’ll definitely come." However, as the hours dragged on, disappointment began to set in. You were hungry but kept waiting for Eddie. You didn’t know how much longer you could hold out. Finally, letting go of your dream of sitting down and sharing the meal with him, you reached for the food on the table. The first bite felt like a lump stuck in your throat; this was a meal you were eating alone. The candles in the center of the table were still burning, but instead of a romantic ambiance, the flickering light filled the room with a melancholy loneliness.

When the meal was over, your hand reached for the wine bottle. "I’ll have a glass or two; it’ll help me relax," you thought. With the first sip, memories of clinking glasses with Eddie flashed before your eyes. Glass after glass, the wine bottle on the table was soon halfway empty.

The makeup on your face started to feel like a burden weighing on you. You hurried to the mirror and wiped it off. Staring at your bare face in the mirror, you noticed the disappointment etched into your eyes. The hair you had styled so carefully just hours ago was now disheveled, and your spirit was completely drained.

Now, you sat alone at the head of the table. Your eyes grew heavy with fatigue, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to give up waiting. "Maybe the door will open any moment now," you thought. Resting your head on the table, everything began to blur like a dream under the dim, flickering candlelight. The wine’s slight haze made your eyelids grow heavier.

At that moment, the lock on the door turned. Eddie stepped inside with his key, noticing the smell of wine that filled the room and the candles nearly burned out. As he took a step into the room, he saw the remains of the meal on the table, the wine bottle nearly empty, and you, with your head resting on the table, dozing off. His eyes scanned the details on the table in surprise: the elegant arrangement, the rose petals, the half-melted candles, and you sitting there in silence. Eddie’s expression changed rapidly—surprise, guilt, and a hint of panic flickered across his face.

He stepped quietly, trying not to disturb you, and approached you cautiously. "Sweetheart…?" he called softly, but as he saw your eyes fluttering open, he crouched down beside your chair. "What happened here? Are you… are you okay?" he asked, looking at you with concern.

You brought your hands to your face and groaned lightly, still groggy from sleep. For a brief moment, Eddie’s puzzled expression mingled with your own. But as the depth of your sadness and disappointment resurfaced in your mind, you let out a deep, sorrowful breath. "Why were you so late?" you murmured, your voice slightly cracked, tinged with a trace of reproach.

Eddie’s face grew more serious. "I’m sorry… work ran late, and I lost track of time," he explained, raising his hands in helplessness. "But… what’s all this? The table? The candles? What’s it for?"

Seeing how unaware he was only amplified the depth of your disappointment. You fixed your eyes on him, but for a while, no words came out. Eddie could sense that there was a storm brewing beneath your silence. "What’s wrong? Please, tell me," he said, more insistently this time, but still in a gentle tone.

Finally, you took a deep breath and spoke the truth. "Today was our anniversary, Eddie," you said, the words feeling as if they were stuck in your throat. "And you forgot." Your voice was calm, but the hurt it carried was enough to devastate Eddie. His eyes widened, his hands trembled for a moment, and deep regret etched itself onto his face.

“Oh… no,” he whispered, rubbing his forehead with one hand. When he raised his eyes from the table back to you, it seemed as though he finally understood all your preparations, your effort, and ultimately, your broken heart.

"Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I forgot… no, how could I forget something like this?" he muttered, his voice cracking. But you turned your head away, avoiding his gaze.

Eddie stood before you, his face filled with remorse. Meanwhile, you avoided his eyes with a look that was both hurt and a little angry. You glanced briefly at the melted candles on the table, the empty wine bottle, and the darkened plates, then turned back to Eddie. As you tried to suppress your disappointment, his guilt-ridden expression only hurt you more.

"How could you forget something like this, Eddie?" you said, your tone now unrestrained in its hurt. "I mean… our anniversary… It was something special. And you..." You had done everything for him, planned the entire evening, but he… he had forgotten. This reality made you feel worthless.

Eddie took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair as if trying to straighten his thoughts. "I know, you’re right. But work has been so busy, and I lost track of time. I could have called, yes. But—" he began, but you raised a hand to stop him.

"You lost track of time?" you snapped, your brows furrowed. "I planned the entire day, hour by hour. I set up the table, cooked the food, played your favorite playlist. But what did you do? You just showed up late. You didn’t even call to let me know." Tears began to well up in your eyes, but you didn’t want to appear weak in front of Eddie. So, you quickly wiped them away and took a deep breath.

Eddie spread his hands, his voice filled with regret but also tinged with helplessness. "Sweetheart, I didn’t realize how important this was. If I had known—"

"If you had known?" you interjected, your voice rising. Eddie, with his usual calm demeanor, tried to absorb your anger, but that only made you more furious. "Eddie, this is our anniversary! How many times did we talk about it? How many times did you say, ‘Let’s go all out this year’? And what happened?" By the time you finished your sentence, you were nearly out of breath.

Eddie lowered his head, his gaze falling to the floor. It was a gesture he always made when he felt guilty. But instead of calming you, it only fueled your frustration. "Yes, I forgot," he finally said, his tone quiet and subdued. "And it’s entirely my fault. But… please, try to understand. Work… my mind has been all over the place. There’s just been so much going on..."

"There’s always an excuse, isn’t there?" you said, getting up abruptly and pacing around the table. Eddie flinched slightly at your movement. "Eddie, just one day, just a few hours—was it so hard for me to be your top priority? Was it so impossible to set your work aside and put me first?"

Eddie’s eyes softened as he heard the slight tremor in your voice, but you were too angry to notice just yet. "I… I let you down, I know. But I don’t want to make you feel unimportant. Because to me, you’re… everything," he said. However, his words weren’t enough to soothe you in that moment.

"Yes, Eddie, and the person you call your 'everything' was left alone on an anniversary," you retorted. "How ironic, isn’t it?" Your eyes filled with tears again, but this time, you chose to stay silent, not wanting to say anything you might regret. You sat back down and moved away from Eddie as he tried to reach for you.

Eddie took a deep breath and nodded slightly. "Look, you’re right. You’re completely right. But please, give me a chance. I’ll make it up to you tonight. Just hear me out."

Eddie stepped closer. "I’ll do whatever it takes. I can’t stand seeing you this upset," he said, placing his hands gently near yours.

In that moment, beneath your hurt, you still felt the love you had for Eddie. But you weren’t ready to show it to him just yet. "Let’s see what you’ll do, Eddie Munson," you murmured. "It’s going to take a real miracle to make up for tonight."

Eddie tried to smile, but the guilt was still evident on his face. "I’ll make that miracle happen," he said with determination.

He paused for a moment, and a familiar mischievous smile appeared on his face. As you raised an eyebrow and looked at him skeptically, Eddie had already started heading toward the kitchen.

"Eddie, what are you doing?" you asked, following after him. But he was already in the middle of the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets and opening and closing the fridge. When you saw a plate of chocolate, some flour, and milk on the counter, your eyebrows arched even higher.

"I’m going to make something for you with my own hands. How about some chocolate pancakes?" he said, a hopeful expression in his eyes. You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms over your chest. "Chocolate pancakes at midnight? Eddie, seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring your smile back," he said as he started organizing the kitchen like a professional chef. You watched him, trying to keep the serious expression on your face, but Eddie’s clumsiness was mildly amusing. When a bit of flour ended up in his hair, you struggled to suppress a small smile.

As Eddie mixed the ingredients, your playlist continued playing in the background. When one of your favorite songs came on, Eddie stopped stirring and turned to you. "Okay, wait, isn’t this our song?" he said excitedly, extending a hand toward you.

"What are you doing, Eddie?" you asked, trying to maintain your stern expression.

"There’s a way to make this better," he said, taking your hand. "Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, my lady? Let’s make the rest of this night a little brighter." "Eddie, weren’t you making pancakes?" you asked, but he had already pulled you into the middle of the kitchen. As the song continued to play, Eddie’s warm hands found their way around your waist. "A quick break, then the pancakes will be ready," he whispered, spinning you gently.

At first, you hesitated, but you couldn’t resist the affectionate look on Eddie’s face. Even the creaking sound of the old wooden floor beneath your feet as you moved to the rhythm somehow became endearing. "You can’t win me over that easily," you murmured, but the way Eddie held you close softened your heart.

As the final notes of the song played, Eddie rested his forehead against yours. In his eyes, you saw a mix of regret and love. "I’ll do better for you. I promise," he said softly.

In that moment, you felt that Eddie was truly trying, that he genuinely wanted to make things right. The anger within you started to melt away, though you weren’t ready to forgive him just yet. "If the pancakes are good, maybe I’ll consider it," you said with a small smile. Eddie immediately dashed back to the kitchen, grabbing the mixing bowl.

Five minutes later, Eddie returned to the table with a plate in hand. The pancakes weren’t exactly masterpieces—they were a bit uneven and slightly overcooked—but the chocolate sauce he had drizzled on top made them look sweet enough. As you sat down, you took the fork he offered you.

"This is the best I can do for now, but next time, I’ll whip up something worthy of a pastry chef. Promise," he said, watching intently as you took your first bite. Eddie’s eyes stayed on you, his expression a mix of nervousness and hope.

"They’re not bad," you said, taking another bite. Eddie exhaled deeply and burst out laughing. "Not bad? That’s the highest compliment I’ve ever received!"

As you chuckled lightly, Eddie walked around the table to sit beside you. "Seeing you smile like this… it’s worth the world to me," he said, taking a bite of his own pancake.

The night began to feel normal again. When Eddie offered his hand, you hesitated at first but then took it with a faint smile. "Eddie, you really are the most stubborn and sweetest man in the world, you know that, don’t you?" you said. Eddie winked and pulled you back toward the living room.

Another song started playing from the playlist in the background—this one from the first night you two had danced together. Eddie gave you his signature mischievous look and gently pulled you closer.

"This song," he whispered, "reminds me of you. Every time I hear it, I think of that first night on the dance floor. You, in that red dress… and me, with too much hairspray and maybe a little drunk…"

You chuckled softly at his words. “Don’t be so hard on yourself; you were amazing that night,” you said. Eddie spun you gently and pulled you back into his arms, his eyes locked on yours.

“Every night is amazing if it ends with you,” he added.

As you danced, Eddie’s hands moved from your waist to your back, drawing you closer to him. The intimacy of the moment slowly erased the tension left by your earlier argument. Near the end of the song, Eddie twirled you one last time but, instead of ending the dance, he did something unexpected: he took your hands and started leading you toward the front door.

“Eddie, where are we going?” you asked, your voice laced with both surprise and curiosity.

“Surprise,” was all he said, that familiar mischievous glint lighting up his eyes. Before you could press him for more answers, he grabbed your coat and handed it to you, grabbing his own jacket before opening the door.

The cold night air brushed against your face, making you instinctively move closer to Eddie for warmth. “Seriously, Eddie, where are we going at midnight?” you asked again. He just smiled, guiding you toward his van.

Soon, you were driving down a quiet road leading out of Hawkins. Eddie kept glancing at you with a playful smile, his hand occasionally tapping the steering wheel in time with the music. He’d restarted the playlist, making sure one of your favorite songs was playing to fill the silence.

Finally, he stopped the van near a small hillside. From there, the lights of Hawkins twinkled faintly in the distance like scattered stars. Eddie hopped out of the van, pulling a blanket from the back. Then, coming around to your side, he opened your door and held out his hand.

“This place…” you began, but Eddie interrupted immediately.

“Just wait, okay? Everything’s almost ready.” He spread the blanket on the ground and guided you to sit on it before returning to the van to grab a thermos and some snacks. Sitting down beside you, he handed you the thermos and gestured toward the view of the town below.

“So, this might not be a grand anniversary gift,” he said, a touch of nervousness in his voice. “But this place is special to me because, no matter how much I want to get out of this town, there’s always one thing keeping me here. You. And I might have forgotten about tonight, but I could never forget you.”

His words made your eyes glisten with unshed tears. As always, Eddie’s sweet and heartfelt way of expressing himself struck a chord deep within you.

“And also,” he continued, pulling a small box from his back pocket, “I thought this might help make up for it. It’s small, but it’s meaningful. I actually got it a while ago…”

When he opened the box, inside was a necklace that was unmistakably Eddie’s style. The chain was delicate but stylish, with a small guitar charm hanging from it.

“This represents us,” Eddie said as he carefully fastened the necklace around your neck. “Every note is you and me.”

Your eyes shifted from the necklace to Eddie. “You’re really going all out to make up for this, aren’t you?” you said with a smile.

Eddie nodded and whispered, “Because you’re worth it.” Under the lights of Hawkins, you stood beside Eddie, and the argument had melted into a warm harmony. “I think I can forgive you,” you finally said, resting your head on Eddie’s shoulder.

Eddie pulled you into a tight hug and chuckled softly. “I knew it.” The night ended under the stars, wrapped in the warmth of the blanket and the peace Eddie brought to your heart.

taglist: @t-folklore13 @nicholaschavezslut69 @multyfangirl

[sematarygirls]

 🦢 ⊹ᡣ𐭩₊⋆ ─── introducing swan!reader

hopeless romantic .ᐟ  kook princess.  444.  pearls. classical music.  vintage postcards.  porcelain figurines.  satin sheets.  fine china.  pink &&. white. vanilla lip gloss.  sugar cookies.  dior.  vw bugs. ribbons &&. bows.  forget-me-nots.  soft candlelight.

              ୭ৎ swan!reader works below .ᐟ

꒰ swan!reader &&. rafe first meeting ꒱

꒰ swan!reader's favorite music ꒱

[tinycherry0]

All I want for Christmas is her oiled up next to me on a king size bed with satin sheets by candlelight 😣 is that too much to ask for?? 😩

[hazbinshusk]

21 with husk?🥺👉👈

I started combining this for a request for a wedding night with husk, and about halfway through, realised that you had sent both requests! so hopefully, you enjoy what I've come up with :)

prompt #21: dealer's choice

“I thought we’d never get away,” Husk murmurs against your neck, breath tickling against your skin as his nose bumps against the edge of your jaw. You smile, letting him wind an arm around you even as it makes it more difficult to focus on getting the door unlocked. Husk presses his body up against your back, and you breathe a laugh as he kisses your neck.

“Really? I thought if Charlie gave one more teary-eyed speech, Angel was going to carry you upstairs for me himself,” you tease back, and Husk chuckles in your ear, smoothing claws over your satin-covered hips.

“Shoulda let him,” Husk rumbles, inhaling the scent at the nape of your neck. The feeling of his breath against the sensitive skin there makes you shiver against him, your eyes closing for a moment. “Havin’ this many stairs an’ no fuckin’ elevator is a serious design flaw.”

“It is Hell,” you point out in amusement, finally getting the key into the lock. It turns with a heavy click. “But if you want, I can go down and have a word with Lucifer now, and—”

You laugh aloud in surprise as Husk catches hold of you before you can pull away, sweeping you up into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck automatically, face flushing at the sudden romance of the moment. Which, considering it was your wedding night, was just a little ridiculous.

“Weren’t you just complaining about the stairs being too physically demanding?” you ask teasingly, and Husk smirks  affectionately up at you.

“Can it. Would ya jus’ let an old man have his moment?”

You grin, leaning in to press your lips to his. Husk meets them happily, a purr rumbling through his chest – a sound that you’re happy to note you’ve heard more often than not tonight. For once, he doesn’t even seem to mind that one of his more cattish behaviours was on display in front of the rest of the hotel residents.

“Sorry,” you mumble between kisses. “Proceed.”

“’ppreciate it, doll,” he replies giving you an almost roguish smirk. “Mind gettin’ the door? I ain’t as young as I used to be.”

You giggle, reaching down to turn the knob and push the door open. Husk kisses you again as he carries you across the threshold to what Charlie has officially dubbed the Hazbin Hotel’s new honeymoon suite – you have a sneaking suspicion her dear old dad had something to do with the recent overnight renovations that got this room up to Charlie’s high standards. It rivals the princess’ own suite in sheer size, but you barely spare the room a glance before curling your fingers in the fur at the back of Husk’s head and kissing him again.

Husk groans into it, tongue tracing your lower lip before you meet it with your own. He kisses you deeply, slowly, the claws cradling your legs slipping up under the slit in the skirt of your dress to tease along the flesh of your thigh. Candlelight glows around you, casting deep shadows across your paramour’s features as you part, his pupils a deep, liquid gold that heats the very core of you. He sets you down gently, paws taking hold of your hips firmly enough that you can feel those heart-shaped pads pressing into your flesh.

“Kiss me again,” he murmurs, his voice deep and smooth and full of that whiskey-warmth that makes a shudder play through your lower back, makes heat pool between your thighs.

“Hmmm…” you draw it out teasingly, and his smile twitches wider in amusement as you tap your chin with a finger as though in thought. “Only ‘cause you asked so nicely.”

“Cheeky…” he mutters with a grin, cupping your cheeks in both hands and kissing you again, sweet and deep. You smile into it, your hands coming up to fumble with the buttons of his shirt. You unfasten them slowly, smoothing your fingers up through the fur of his stomach as its exposed. Husk growls, low in the back of his throat, as you scratch your nails along his chest, his purring doubling as you reach up to rub your fingers against the base of his ear. “I love you, doll…”

“Love you, Husk,” you murmur, brushing your lips against his, over his cheek. “I love you.”

“God, I’ll never get tired of hearin’ that,” he tells you, bumping his forehead against yours. His paws smooth down over your arms, mapping out the length of them slowly before coming down to curl around your palms. You interlace your fingers with his. “Still don’t understand how a guy like me…”

“Hey,” you squeeze his hands, leaning up to kiss his cheek. Husk’s eyes close as he leans into it, chasing the touch instinctively. You kiss his neck, smiling when you feel his breath catch. “I’m the lucky one here.”

Husk chuckles disbelievingly, shaking his head. “You thinkin’ that might jus’ be the craziest thing about you, baby.”

You smirk, raising a finger in pretend threat. “Hey, I am about three seconds from making a bad pun about the luck of the draw here if that’s what it takes to prove my point—”

Husk laughs, signalling his surrender by kissing you again. When he breaks away he bumps his head against your jaw, rubbing his forehead contentedly against your neck. “Alright, point taken, doll.”

“Good,” you smile, the expression turning suggestive as you bite your lip. “Now, remind me… there’s something we’re supposed to do on our wedding night, right? Some kind of tradition that—”

You break off in a laugh as Husk scoops you up again, lifting you so you can wrap your legs around his waist. His mouth meets yours with a new hunger as he carries you across the floor, and your laughter doubles as he tosses you back onto the bed. You bounce on the plush mattress, sinking into the downy comforter. Husk tugs the tie from his throat as he looks down on you in your wedding dress, slips his suspenders off his shoulders as his eyes travel slowly over you in a way that makes your entire body flush with excitement.

“I got you, baby,” he grins, running a hand between his ears, loosening the pomade that had trained the longer fur there into a slicked back style. “Let me show you exactly what married life gets you.”

Husk sheds his shirt as he climbs over you, his wings spread wide as he brings his mouth back to yours.

send me a prompt and either husk or blitzø