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laatmaar · 1 year ago

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S/N: RG-300-459-76-44

Okay so this is the first time I have ever written fanfiction for anything, or even just written any story this long, but fallen hero has quite the death grip on my brain. So truly any advice and such is appreciated. Anyway I'm absolutely fascinated by whatever the regenes and the farm has going on, and this is a little piece exploring sidestep's, or rather Matt's, first mission on the farm. I say little but it has a word count of 3K, be warned. Also be warned that this piece contains somebody being murdered, but nothing too extreme or unusual for fallen hero I think.

You stand before a door. This specific door is quite unassuming, it is brown and the dark patterns of shaky vertical lines interrupted with little ovals signal that it is made of wood. Which makes it quite unlike most doors you are acquainted with, but it is normal here. The door looks exactly like the doors you’ve seen in picture books. Presumably, to hide anything out of the ordinary, anything horrible, insidious, dangerous, behind a passibly normal exterior. In short, Mr. Brown made it look like all the other doors in this hallway. You like this door.

If all went well Mr. Brown will now be lying dead on the ground behind this door, and the only thing you will have to do is help unit 44 with disposal of the body. It has been a long day and your body feels heavy, there is a strange empty feeling in your stomach. You do not know what you expected of your first mission, but certainly not feeling so… tired. You place your hand on the doorknob. You turn the doorknob. You open the door.

"Oh, thank God!”

Mr. Brown moves toward you more quickly than you were prepared for. He only stops in his tracks when, presumably, the gun that is quite obviously pointed at his head catches his eye again. Mr. Brown is, evidently, not dead. You close your eyes, breathe out. You open your eyes. Unit 44, who you were quite sure should have killed Mr. Brown some five minutes ago according to the mission parameters you memorized over and over and over and over again, moves towards the door. It makes sure its gun never wavers from its target's head and shuts the door behind you. You hear the click of the door being locked.

“Look I don’t care what goddamn government agency thought it worth to send a goddamn fucking regene to assassinate me or whatever but-” Mr. Brown grabs your arm, in his thoughts you find only relief, and pulls you towards him “-surely you’re not programmed to kill innocent civilians.” At this he shakes your arm, which you’ve come to understand is actually quite a rude thing to do.

Unit 44’s face is impassive although the corner of its blue lip might’ve moved upward just a tiny bit. Its gun however has not moved at all. It looks you dead in the eye.

In your ear Mr. Brown whispers “Play along with me and we might both get out of this alive.” He leans even closer and unit 44 does not shoot him in the head. It should. “Trust me on this miss,” still whispering “that thing is not human… blue skin and all that.” Places his hand on your shoulder, his mind churning with possible escape routes, “It’s a fucking ai but it will not kill us if they think it will cause a scandal… I’m sure.” His thoughts imply otherwise. “Just tell it your parents are nearby or something, I mean what are you sixteen.. seventeen? Your parents must be nearby.”

You open your mouth to ask why unit 44 has not followed standard procedure, do missions normally deviate this much from the norm? You’re not sure you like the idea of that. Why is it that it has not shot Mr. Brown already, even though it had ample opportunity. His fingers are digging into your shoulder in a way that is really becoming uncomfortable and the desperation and fear in his mind make it difficult to think. You are tired. You remember that you should report to your handlers in about 10 minutes and how does unit 44 think it will ever complete the mission in time. You already relayed all information you gathered from Mr. Brown’s houseguests during the party to your handlers. You’ve already done your part, why is it refusing to just do its part. Why do you have to be part of this. However unit 44 says, “Close your mouth.” and you obey.

Unit 44 is after all the senior unit out of the two of you, and the most senior unit on a mission is in charge in the unlikely event that your handlers cannot be reached. You paid attention during the briefing. Your handlers cannot be reached because Mr. Brown went to great lengths to design this room. Sound-proof, signal-proof , everything-proof. A perfect room designed for complete privacy, something Mr. Brown is often in great need of. You have recently learned what the concept of ironic means and you think that it applies now. That this room should be his downfall, or at least was supposed to be if all went according to plan. If unit 44 had paid attention. It had not. You had seen its eyes wander.

“Killing an innocent human being is sure to cause a scandal!” Mr. Brown’s voice is pitched a bit higher than before, his fingers beginning to dig in painfully. That is going to leave a mark.

Now you’re sure, unit 44’s lips turn upwards. You do not know what it finds particularly funny, or where it even learned to smile. Smirk? Its gun aimed around two inches to the left of your face. At Mr. Brown’s mouth. Which is still moving.

“I know her,” he lies, “if she disappears” shaking you, again “her parents will be sure to raise hell! They’re important. Influential.” Those last words he emphasizes. You’ve learned that people will do this if they mean more than what they are actually saying. You however do not see the relevance or deeper meaning of your imaginary parents being important. His thoughts suggest that not even Mr. Brown is entirely sure what he means. He just needs to stay alive, from one second to the next. He knows he won’t be able to overpower the regene planted in front of the door, but.. he’s not dead yet. It is a miracle that he is not dead yet. You agree. He is sure that you might be the reason why. He can use that. Talk his way out. He has talked his way out of failure and into success his entire life.

Mr. Brown talks and talks and there are still nine minutes remaining. His grip turning painful, and you just wish your pain gate would activate for more mundane matters than life threatening injuries. You need to finish this. Quickly.

You look at unit 44. Its lean body clad in a skin-tight suit and armour, its stance almost relaxed. Not quite, but almost. The heaviest armour is centered around its chest area, all its appendages left unobstructed. Under the armour the skinsuit peeks out, the black fabric making for a nice contrast against the blue skin of its neck. There continuing from the neck and covering its entire face are those patterns you are so familiar with, this time in a lighter blue instead of orange. All traces of what might’ve been a smile gone from its lips. Its eyes are still looking at you, expression once again completely neutral. It nods and lowers its gun just a bit.

“Restrain him,” it orders “on the floor, preferably.”

You do not stop to question why unit 44 wants Mr. Brown restrained and not dead. Why it won’t just finish this job. Neatly. According to mission protocol. With a bullet, preferably. You do not question it because some irrational part of you is glad that it has lowered the gun. It might have decided to shift it about two inches to the right. Unit 44, you have suspected for some time, is unpredictable. At least the smile has not returned, that you can admit unnerved you.

Most of all you do not question it because you are glad to move. To take that hand from your shoulder and in one swift movement twist it around his back, kick his legs, push him into the ground, put your knee on his back, the other next to his hip, your free hand on his neck holding him down. This is a move you have practiced a hundred times. It is even easier than expected, normally your partners put up much more of a fight.

Mr. Brown lets out a yelp of surprise and pain. His mind is a potent mix of confusion, betrayal and fear. Mostly fear, there is something very wrong with the picture being painted. He has misinterpreted the situation, badly. But… since when did they put regenes in charge of people.

He makes an attempt at opening his mouth to ask, but you press his face into the ground and that gets the message through. He closes his mouth. On his neck your fingertips press down and the skin turns red. Your own shoulder aches and you squeeze, just a bit.

Unit 44 has moved next to you. Its eyes finally leave you and shift a bit to the right, so that it’s not looking down at you but Mr. Brown instead. Gun pointed to the side. It looks like it's contemplating something but its mental defenses are better than Mr. Brown’s and you are still so tired. Then in a move that should not surprise you as much as it does, it kneels next to you. Nothing should surprise you when it comes to unit 44. Still you cannot help the question forming on your lips when it replaces your hand on Mr. Brown’s neck and hands you the gun. “Well,” it says, and nobody should have taught it to smile. It’s misusing the ability entirely, nothing about this situation is funny. “time is running out. Shoot him.”

You feel your shoulders tense and your right shoulder ache. The gun feels slippery in your hands. The temperature in the room has not risen even a degree since you’ve entered it and yet your hands are sweating. An uncomfortable heat spreading through your body as you look at unit 44, that stupid smile still on its face. Its expression still so calm. Your jaw aches with the effort it takes you to not open your mouth and say something. Anything. Scream. You don’t know.

Eight minutes remaining, and approximately a second has passed since unit 44 gave you the order. Mr. Brown’s thoughts are quickly turning from incomprehension to panic. He struggles under your knee and unit 44’s strong hands. Hurting himself. His panic full blown now, and maybe his thoughts are the reason you can’t seem to think straight on this matter. The fact that your hand is trembling without your input. Mr. Brown should have been dead for ten minutes already. His breathing ragged, and he might be crying. “Goddammit you’re human you don’t have to listen to it!” he screams. You shoot.

There is something unpleasant about the way blood drops roll down your face. You’ve experienced many new situations and sensations today. You don’t want to experience anything else ever again. You want to go home. You never want to leave this room.

For the last minute or so unit 44 has been opening different cabinets and drawers in search of something, you don’t particularly care what for. You have been sitting next to a corpse. His eyes still open, staring at you. You stare back, and in the corner of your eyes you see unit 44 approaching. It hands you a packet of wet wipes and makes a gesture at your face. You obediently wipe your face, your makeup coming off. The lipstick has mixed with blood and turned a bright red, it was supposed to be a neutral colour. Presentable, but not attracting attention. While the other units were putting on armour they had dressed you in a nice off colour white dress, now ruined. They had shaved your face and applied all sorts of cosmetics. You don’t know exactly what. They had made what, you gathered from the laughter, were supposed to be jokes. Something about if only they had prettier models and the money they could make. They had sent you off to a party, and you had completed your task. As unit 44 should have completed its.

It is fiddling with the closure of your dress. At your questioning look it shows you some kind of gel. “For your shoulder,” it clarifies. It has gotten the button open and pulls the zipper down. There in contrast to the bruised skin on your shoulder the orange tattoos appear completely unblemished. Nothing ever damages that familiar pattern. You quickly reach out and close Mr. Brown’s eyes. Unit 44 looks at you for a moment, and you feel your face heat up. It has no right to judge you, but it merely smiles. Blue patterns moving.

It puts some of that translucent gel on your shoulder and, far more gently than you think is medically necessary, begins spreading it out. Looking back you should’ve known something like this would happen. You should’ve known because unit 44 had not been paying attention to the briefing. Because it had looked distracted when putting on armour. Because two days before the mission it had not been as efficient as it could’ve been at training. It had hesitated and you had not let it out of your sight since. You should have known because small disobediences lead to bigger disobediences later on. You lean back, just a bit, into her cool fingers. Its cool fingers. Its blue fingers. The same colour your bruise is beginning to take on, and that was not your thought. You feel sick to the stomach, and you are so tired and you never wanted to have anything to do with this in the first place. You did your job, and so you stand up.

You begin trying to zip up your dress, and you must look like an idiot when you can’t reach the zipper. You take Mr. Brown’s jacket from the desk chair and put that over your shoulders instead. A small burst of panic shoots through you. There are only two minutes remaining.

Your first mission is a complete failure, two minutes isn’t enough time. The blood pools beneath Mr. Brown’s head seeping into the wooden flooring. It is splattered on the walls, and on your dress. On your hands. You do not have enough time to clean it all.

Unit 44 makes no attempt to move from where it’s still seated on the floor. It looks relaxed in the way it’s leaning back on its hands looking at you, observing you. It looks resigned, like it does not care about any of this. Does not care about the consequences of not following mission protocols. Does not care about Mr. Brown lying dead on the floor eleven minutes too late. Does not care about you. You suppose its actions have proven that it doesn’t.

Under your gaze unit 44 finally stands up.

“We have one minute,” it states. “Now tell me exactly, what did it feel like?”

For the first time in quite a while you open your mouth and speak.

It is only in Dr. Morgan’s office in preparation for your second mission that you dare to subtly ask about unit 44. Of course she knows many unit 44’s, 44 being only the last two numbers of a longer serial number, but she seems to understand which one you’re talking about.

“Hmmm, I get why you would be anxious about working with that particular unit again. After that disaster of a mission last time.” You had known it was a disaster, you had not known everybody else thought so too. “That it would wait to kill that Brown figure for so long, and then to do it so messily too.” It had taken the fall, you had suspected as much. “I had already said to Marcus there is something wrong with that unit. He even acknowledged it in that irritating way he always does, but actually listen? No. Never.”

She is not truly talking to you, merely monologuing to herself and you are an unfortunate victim. This is why you asked her. She likes hearing herself talk, and her colleagues do not like listening.

“He was all like let’s see where this goes. It would be a shame to have to start over again, blah blah blah. I said the nice thing about regenes is that we get to start over again. Its body is young and we can simply reuse it. Let’s just get it over with, but no. One more mission.” You wonder how many units had heard her complain about this in the days preceding the mission. Whether unit 44 might’ve. “So one disaster of a mission later and now it’s been decommissioned all the same. Marcus still won’t admit I was right though. Asshole.”

Unit 44 is dead. She walks over to you and injects something in your upper right arm. The bruise on your shoulder has healed faster than a normal human bruise would. You’re beginning to miss it.

“Well anyway its chip has been taken apart, and you won’t have to worry about ever working with it again. Sounds good?”

There is something ugly and sour rising in your throat. You force your face in approximation of a gentle smile and nod.

Later when you’re in the dorms lying on your stomach on your bed, you wait and listen. It is deep in the night and you’ve waited very patiently until you’re sure that most of the others are asleep. Or at least that the ones still awake are not paying any attention to you. You’re pretty sure you look convincingly asleep, you have not moved an inch in two hours. Your telepathy is not as strong as others, so you play defense instead.

In your mind you open the door. Step into the room. Lock the door behind you (unit 44 is not there to pick up the slack anymore). Check the room for anything unusual (ignore the body). Feel your own body on the mattress, muscles relaxing. Keep at it for another two hours. Convince yourself you have obtained some fraction of privacy. Some fraction of Mr. Brown’s room, his dead eyes never having left you. Only then, when you’re balancing on the edge of consciousness just about to fall asleep, do you allow yourself to imagine; her blue fingers spread out against your shoulder.

#oc: matt #fallen hero #fhr #So the original title for this fic was She Commands Me And I Obey from the similarly titled short story set in the Imperial Radch Universe #but I think that would be just straight up plagiarism even if I acknowledge where I got it from? Anyway I think it is important to recogniz #that that phrase was very much constantly on my mind while writing this.#The other thing on my mind was like #what if you walk into a room and both people inside that room already kinda know they're not going to make it out of this room alive so the #just drag you down with them in entirely different ways. What then?#Btw if you notice any typos or grammatical errors feel free to point them out. English is not my first language and it is late #when i'm posting this.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

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AITA for lying to my dog about food being 'spicy?'

A while back I taught my dog what spicy foods are (by letting her sniff them and saying "Uh oh! Spicy!") and she figured out that it means it'll smell/taste bad and she immediately loses interest. It was initially an accident but it became really handy in getting her to leave food alone if it might hurt her.

Recently though I've started saying "Uh oh! Spicy!" about any food I don't want her to eat. If she's sitting and staring at me eating a regular non-spicy snack and I don't want to share, I'll tell her it's spicy so she'll stop begging for it. She believes me 100% of the time. She does have a 'leave it' command that she obeys as well, but she always acts so sad whenever I tell her to 'leave it' and it's something she wants.

I feel a little bad because she's an older dog (10y/o) and maybe I SHOULD be sharing my snacks with her, but sometimes a man's gotta enjoy his food in peace without a little creature gazing longingly at him the entire time and crying like the world's soggiest beast.

Included is a picture of her making her very best begging face so that everyone can accurately judge how evil I am for lying to her.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #joke aita #pet tax #thank you op i will now be repeating uh oh! spicy! to myself for days #(in a delighted way)

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08luvmailz · 1 month ago

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𓇼 ME MISS YOU . . ਏਓ !

summary 𓍯 which he followed you because he missed you ꒰ 🧾 ꒱ fluffy life with husband

The eerie silence and the harsh wind whispers weaving through the cool night air, though it's only 5:30 in the afternoon. Crouching low, I fisted my hands through my victim's hair and chopped his head off as my breath steadied, eyes locked on the faint rustle of the bushes—a promising sign of tonight's catch.

It's been almost a year of this endless cycle, by day cuddling and having a blissful life with Mr. Crawling as you give him endless affection, or he will whine to death, and by night- killing humans to feed him. As your eyes wandered through your vision toward the unmoving dead body, your mind wavered toward your husband even though you weren't married officially.

You two are together and bonded by our souls, obeying you and listening to you even though there is a gap in speaking, never ceases to stun you every day. He waits at home, is always patient, and is always trusting. The thought of his joy warms you as you tighten your grip on your crowbar and knife.

Back at the apartment, it feels unbearable still. Mr. Crawling gazes through the door—waiting for your return. His fingers relentlessly tapped the tatami board as it echoed through the room. It's been almost an hour since she left him, she always does every day for him.

He still remembered her voice firming when she told him to stay.

He watches her moving to gather her things, his legs tucked close to his body. He knows her too well—the same command she gives every time. Stay. He doesn't think about it but wants more of her touch, only about the moment before her absence, and he clung to her as his large frame wrapped around her waist. He chirped in a low tone, full of worry and protest. His grip tightened slightly, enough to make his point without holding her back.

He pressed his face into your legs, his arms curling towards your leg, "stay" he told her as he snuggled to her, not wanting to let go, “ you’re so stubborn” she murmured, stroking his head. The gesture was a silent reassurance for him to stop worrying though she knew it wouldn't stop him from worrying.

She turns to face him as his face is still smothered to her thighs, his cold lips puckering into her skin. He doesn’t need words to tell her how he feels; the way he clings to her, his body trembles faintly, caught between his instinct to obey and his need to protect her.

As her warm fingers tangled into his hair, brushing it calmly, she told him, " Me back soon; I find food. " she promised, her voice softer now. “You don’t have to worry.”

With a final sigh, she gently pries him off, his cold finger reluctant to let go. “Stay here,” she says, her tone firmer now, though her heart aches at the look he gives her. He didn't move and obeyed her, as she smiled one last time and crouched to his level to kiss his forehead, " I'll be back soon. I Promise," She said one last time to open and lock the door, leaving him in a trance with determination to follow her.

He was hesitant to disobey her requests and always did, lowering his head in submission. But now, in the suffocating silence, he feels the weight of her absence like a stone in his chest. He tried to wait, his attempts to distract himself with television, watching shows that helped him understand her language more, but as soon as his face glimmered when he saw the heroine with her lover cuddling in a scene. It was no use. missing her so dearly that his pull to follow her was too strong, an instinct older than obedience.

She is his world, his reason, and the thought of her out there alone, facing whatever dangers the night might bring, fills him with unease. Even though he knew she was capable of handling herself well, killing those people for him joyed him. He knew she loved him as much as he loved her.

Making his decision wasn't easy for him, he knew he would face the consequences of her ignoring him though he shook his head, he wanted to see her, he needed her now.

He moves swiftly to the door. His movements are precise and quiet, the art of going unnoticed. He knows where she has gone—he’s watched her enough times at the window to remember the path she takes. He follows her scent, a trail as familiar to him as the rhythm of his footsteps. With every step, he feels her grace like a taut thread, pulling him closer to her.

Its darkness yawned wide like the mouth of a beast. He hesitates for a moment, hearing her voice in his mind, Stay. Wait for me. But he presses on.

He moved carefully, his body blending into the dark foliage as his fingers gripped the pole lamp. He saw her gripping tightly to her crowbar and massively hitting her victim, he watched in awe as pride swelled in his chest at the sight of her—strong, capable, everything he admires.

Though he knows the facade she's been growing through back there in his world, he saw her unreality in a tick of time, and by the hanging thread of webs-he had been with her, and he knew she was close to insanity. Was she close? Or she's already been insane nevertheless, he will always be there with her.

She didn't notice him at first, focused on the task ahead. But then a chitter of a familiar voice captivates your attention as you whip your head, your coat shadowing your expression of bloodlust to confusion. There he is, his head tilted with his adoring smile. She shook her head with a giggle, he never listened to her as she pointed him to get closer to him.

He lowered his body as his smile creeped out to his ear, he skitters toward her, his movements quick but careful as he came faster to her and clung to her lower body as his face smothered to her bloodied coat "I miss you, I love you. " he said with a chitter as his cold hands hold her bloodied ones and directly placed into his head.

You sighed in intent and ruffled his hair as you looked down and cupped his face with our bloodied hands "You didn't listen to me, But I forgive you. " You crouched to his level as his hands wandered to your body and cupped your face and smothered a messy kiss on your lips, his cold lips puckering your bottom lip leaving a chitter from him. "Me love you, " he told you as he came closer to your body, his large frame almost hugging your smaller ones. You giggled to him as you corrected his grammar, always forgetting the "I", " I love you, too. "

He chirps, leaning into her touch, his body vibrating with relief, he clung to her like a baby as his face looked at the bloodied streets. "Food?" He questioned her, as his hands never left hers. "Yeah, food for you. " As she pointed to the dead body beside them.

As she stands up to place the chopped meat in a plastic bag with blood, "Let's go home." her hands directing him to hold her, he stands up, his towering silhouette blending with the shadows of the city. His mind is clear, his resolve unshakable. He is with her, the love of his life, and with every consequence they will face, he knows she will be there with him as she is with him.

#homicipher headcanons #homicipher fanfiction #homicipher x reader #homicipher mr crawling #mr crawling #mr crawling x reader #homicipher mr crawling x reader #homicipher #文字化化 #homicipher x you #homicipher imagines #homicipher drabbles #imagines #drabble

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greengoblinswifey · 2 months ago

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Show me- Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

warnings: jealous!reader, 69, possessive rafe, unprotected sex, degrading kink, praise kink, rough sex, face slapping, choking, rafe is a sweetheart at the end, s4 ep 3 spoiler kinda.

A part of you was glad Rafe was wary of the cougar. The cougar— she wasn’t that important for you to memorize her name. She was getting too close to your “man” or whatever you and Rafe were. It didn’t matter, he was yours and you were wary of her the moment you met her couple nights ago.

“I don’t trust her,” you add.

“Oh yeah? I think you’re a little jealous,” Rafe saw right through you.

“Jealous?”

“Yeah, jealous.”

“No.” Your faces are inches away from each other and your eyes dart down to his lips.

“Cougar on the prowl?” he replied, playfully taunting you and you giggle. “I’m not an idiot, they think I’m an idiot but, they’ll see how Camerons do business.”

“Show me,” you reply. He felt your breath against his lips as your brown eyes stare into his.

“Show you what princess?”

“Show me how you do business.”

Rafe’s eyes darken as he grabs you by the waist, pulling you against him with a force that takes your breath away. His lips crash against yours, all hunger and heat, the taste of him overwhelming. His hand snakes up to your throat, wrapping firmly around it, not enough to hurt, but enough to make your pulse quicken, sending a jolt of excitement down your spine.

The kiss is wild, desperate, teeth clashing, tongues tangling as he dominates every inch of your mouth. You can’t help but grind your hips against his bulge, feeling the hardness pressing against you. A moan escapes your lips, and you push against him, needing more, needing him closer.

But Rafe pulls back slightly, his lips hovering just above yours as he growls, “Calm down, you needy little slut.”

His grip on your throat tightens just enough to make your breath hitch, and he smirks, his voice low and rough. “You jealous of some old bitch? You think I’d want anyone but you?” His eyes are burning with possessiveness now, and you can feel his cock twitch beneath your grinding. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, show you exactly who this cock belongs to.”

His words send a shiver through you, and you gasp as he pushes you back into the outdoor chair, the cool fabric brushing against your heated skin. “Spread your legs,” he commands, voice dripping with dominance. You obey instantly, feeling the anticipation coil tightly in your belly.

He kneels in front of you, hands pushing your thighs apart as his breath ghosts over your aching core. “You’re mine,” he growls before diving in, his tongue lapping at your folds, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. His grip on your hips is rough, holding you in place as you try to squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the intensity of his mouth. He’s devouring you like a man starved, his tongue flicking, teasing, sucking until your mind is spinning.

“And I’m yours,” he adds.

You whimper, your hands fisting in the little hair he has, trying to pull him closer, needing more. He chuckles darkly against your skin, pulling back just enough to look up at you with a wicked grin. “Oh, I’m not done with you yet,” he says, his voice dripping with promise.

Rafe stands, grabbing your hand and yanking you up, pulling you into the house and straight to the bedroom. He throws you down onto the bed, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of lust and control. “Now, I’m gonna show you,” he murmurs, climbing onto the bed beside you, his body pressing against yours.

He pulls you into position, straddling his face while his cock hovers above your lips. “We’re gonna 69, baby,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “And I’m gonna remind you who you belong to.”

Without another word, his mouth is on you again, tongue plunging into your folds, while his thick cock presses against your lips, begging for your attention. You take him into your mouth, feeling him swell against your tongue as you moan around him, lost in the shared rhythm of pleasure, both of you pushing each other closer to the edge.

Rafe's deep moans vibrate against your core as you both lose yourselves in the intensity. His tongue is relentless, flicking against your clit with just the right amount of pressure, sending shocks of pleasure through your body. His thick cock is heavy in your mouth, and as you hollow your cheeks, taking him deeper, you hear his breath hitch, a throaty moan escaping his lips.

Between your legs, Rafe pulls back just slightly, voice husky as he asks, “You like how I do business, baby?”

Your eyes flutter as you hum around him, the vibrations of your answer sending shivers down his spine. “Yes, sir,” you manage to gasp between moans before he thrusts into your mouth, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Your mouth stretches wide to accommodate him as you struggle to take more, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from the fullness.

Suddenly, Rafe’s mouth is back on your pussy, ravishing you with a ferocity that has you gasping. His tongue works its magic, swirling, sucking, licking until you’re a trembling mess above him. Without warning, the tension snaps, and you squirt all over his face, your body convulsing in overwhelming pleasure as his tongue laps it all up.

“Ride me, bitch,” he growls, voice thick with lust. “Show me that you know I’m yours and make me cum.”

You don’t hesitate. Climbing off him, you position yourself over his cock, feeling the slick heat of your arousal as you sink down onto him. The stretch is intense, and you cry out, your body trembling as you take him deeper, every inch filling you to the brim. Your pace is wild, desperate, and you scream out as his cock hits that perfect spot deep inside you.

Rafe’s hand wraps around your throat, his grip firm but teasing, cutting off your breath just enough to make your head spin. Your curly hair bounces with each thrust and he reaches up, tangling his fingers in your coils, tugging your head down to make you look at him. His eyes are locked on yours, dark and possessive, as he forces you to glance down at your own stomach, the bulge in your belly where his thick cock is buried deep inside you.

“Look at that,” he groans, voice thick with pride. “Look how deep I am in you.”

The sight is enough to send you over the edge again. Your body shudders, your legs quaking as you scream his name, cumming hard all over his cock. Your moans are broken, breathless, as you ride out the intense pleasure, gripping his arms for support as your body melts against him.

Rafe’s grip on your throat tightens just enough to remind you who’s in control, his own groans mixing with yours as he holds you there, feeling every wave of pleasure ripple through you.

Rafe's palm cracks against your cheek, the sting of the slap sending a jolt through your body. He doesn’t give you time to recover before he shoves you roughly onto your back, his hand immediately gripping your throat as he slams into you, the force of his thrusts making the bed creak beneath you. His eyes are dark, possessive, and he’s chasing his own release, fucking you so hard you can barely breathe.

“You’re my bitch,” he growls, his lips brushing against your ear. “My good girl, my baby, my princess.” Each word is punctuated by a rough thrust that leaves you gasping, your body arching up into him as you cling to the edge of another orgasm. “I’m your daddy, no one has me like you do, no one will ever have me the way you do, no one does it for me like you.”

Tears spill down your cheeks as you cry out, the intensity of his words and the rhythm of his hips pushing you over the edge again. You scream, your entire body trembling as you cum, muscles contracting around him, gripping him tight. But Rafe isn’t done. He fucks you even harder, his hips snapping against yours with brutal precision as you whimper beneath him. Another slap to your face makes your head spin, and just as he’s on the verge of release, he pulls out, his breath ragged and heavy.

With a guttural groan, Rafe pumps his cock, cumming all over your mouth and tits. The warmth of his seed covers you, and before you can catch your breath, he grabs your coils, forcing your head down toward your own chest. His grip is firm but not painful, and you follow his lead, your tongue flicking out to lick up his cum from your perky breasts, swallowing every drop as it mixes with what’s already in your mouth.

“Stick your tongue out,” he commands, voice low and rough.

You obey, and his semi-hard dick slaps against your cheek as he chuckles darkly. “That’s my good little bitch,” he whispers, his hand still tangled in your hair. “That’s my good girl.”

When he’s satisfied, he pulls back, the intense dominance fading as he lays down beside you, pulling you into his arms for a brief moment of tenderness. The warmth of his body presses against yours as you both catch your breath. After a moment, Rafe slips out of bed and grabs a towel, cleaning you up gently as if his roughness never happened. He moves with care, wiping the cum from your skin while you watch him, your chest still heaving from the intensity of it all.

As he pulls on his shirt, you sit up, adjusting your bonnet over your curly hair, still watching him in silence. He catches your gaze, his expression softening in a way you’ve never seen before. Moving closer, Rafe leans in, whispering in your ear so quietly that you almost miss it.

“I love you.”

The words shock you, leaving you frozen as he stands up, offering a smile before walking away, leaving you to process everything he just said.

A/N- Love me some Rafe, requests are open for him, JJ, and Pope.

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neouicheonsa · 2 months ago

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i want her to place me on her lap, holding my waist and guiding me as i ride her strap—taking it well, like the good doll i am for her. she whispers sweet nothings in my ear, praising me for how well i'm taking her. her breath on my ear sends shivers down my spine. i can't help but moan softly, lost in pleasure. she kisses the side of my face, her hand gripping me harder, just as i like. i feel owned and she loves to be in control. we complete each other. her dominance is intoxicating, and i find myself completely surrendering to her.

i nestle my head in the crook of her neck as my moans grow louder. she pushes her hips up, the strap hitting deep inside me, and i see stars.

"you feel so good, baby," she purrs in my ear. "you're taking me so well." i whimper in response, overwhelmed by the sensations. "that's my good girl," she coos, nipping at my earlobe. "now ride me harder. show me how much you want it."

i obey eagerly, my hips moving faster, grinding down harder on her strap. the pleasure builds intensely, my body trembling with each thrust. i'm close to the edge, desperately seeking release, but i know i need her permission first.

"please," i beg, my voice a desperate whimper. "please, may i come?"

she chuckles, low and sultry. "not yet, baby," she teases as her hand travels up under my shirt, pinching my nipple and making me gasp. "i want to enjoy you a little longer." her hips thrust up sharply, and i cry out in ecstasy, teetering on the brink of orgasm but unable to fall over the edge without her command.

"i've been so good for you," i whimper as my nails dig into her shoulders. "please let me come." i moan desperately, my hips still moving, seeking release. "i'm so good for you, aren't i?"

she smiles, a mix of pride and desire in her eyes. her hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing over my lower lip. "you're perfect, baby," she purrs. "such a good girl for me." her hips thrust up again, making me gasp. "but i want to hear you beg a little more."

her hand slides down between our bodies, and her thumb brushes against my clit. i lose it completely, coming hard, my body trembling uncontrollably. my hips buck wildly as waves of pleasure crash over me, my inner walls clenching around her strap. i cry out her name, my voice a mixture of ecstasy and desperation.

"tsk, tsk," she chides, her voice a mixture of disappointment and amusement. "what have i told you about self-control? look at you, my eager little slut, not waiting until i give her permission to come. was i simply too much for my pretty little slut? did the pleasure overwhelm her so completely that she couldn't help herself?"

i lower my eyes, a mixture of shame and lingering pleasure coursing through me. "i'm sorry," i whisper, my voice trembling. "you just... you make me feel so good. i couldn't hold back." i look up at her through my lashes, hoping for forgiveness.

she raises an eyebrow, her eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and stern authority. "oh, my little one," she purrs, her voice low and dangerous. "you know what happens when you disobey, don't you?" her hand slides up my thigh, nails lightly scratching the sensitive skin. "i think it's time for your punishment, doll."

(men and minors do not interact)

#wlw yearning #wlw nsft #wlw community #wlw post #wlw blog #wlw #wlw smut #lesbian yearning #lesbian #lesbian post #lesbian nsft #queer nsft #sapphic nsft #sapphic yearning #sapphic #sapphic smut #sapphic sex

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queereads-bracket · 8 days ago

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Queer Adult SFF Books Bracket: Round 3

Book summaries and submitted endorsements below:

Imperial Radch series (Ancillary Justice, Ancillary Sword, Ancillary Mercy, Provenance, Translation State, and other stories) by Ann Leckie

Endorsement from submitter: "Breq/Justice of Toren is a ship AI and doesn't have a gender. The Radchaai language only has one pronoun for people, so (almost) everyone in the empire is she/her, to the point that they're infamous for failing to correctly guess which pronoun to use with outsiders."

On a remote, icy planet, the soldier known as Breq is drawing closer to completing her quest.

Once, she was the Justice of Toren - a colossal starship with an artificial intelligence linking thousands of soldiers in the service of the Radch, the empire that conquered the galaxy.

Now, an act of treachery has ripped it all away, leaving her with one fragile human body, unanswered questions, and a burning desire for vengeance.

Science fiction, space opera, far future, series, adult

Running Close to the Wind by Alexandra Rowland

Endorsement from submitter: "Utterly hilarious romp. No actual sex, but somehow hornier than 90% of books with actual sex in them that I have read."

Avra Helvaçi, former field agent of the Araşti Ministry of Intelligence, has accidentally stolen the single most expensive secret in the world―and the only place to flee with a secret that big is the open sea.

To find a buyer with deep enough pockets, Avra must ask for help from his on-again, off-again ex, the pirate Captain Teveri az-Ḥaffār. They are far from happy to see him, but together, they hatch a plan: take the information to the isolated pirate republic of the Isles of Lost Souls, fence it, profit. The only things in their way? A calculating new Araşti ambassador to the Isles of Lost Souls who’s got his eyes on Avra’s every move; Brother Julian, a beautiful, mysterious new member of the crew with secrets of his own and a frankly inconvenient vow of celibacy; the fact that they’re sailing straight into sea serpent breeding season and almost certain doom.

But if they can find a way to survive and sell the secret on the black market, they’ll all be as wealthy as kings―and, more important, they’ll be legends.

Fantasy, humor, adventure, secondary world, queernorm, adult

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arlertwhore · 3 months ago

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pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader warning(s): ladies, red warning so yk i'm not playing — NASTYYYYY dirty talk ahead, mating press, lowkey highkey breeding kink, daddy kink, crying, deepness / cervix-play, strap, i think thats it but one more warning for that dirty talk.

synopsis: baby daddy paige in da building! don't even wanna say too much 😅 brave girls read! word count: 695. Author Note: guys i have no recollection of when i wrote this which is what makes it sicker...i can just tell i was in the throes of ovulation & baby fever tho (as i usually am) 😓

“Take it, baby, fuck—”Paige growled, giving your cunt unimpeded deep strokes, the blonde thrusting into you with relentless speed, a proud grin spreading across her sexy, sweat-slicked face as she pounded you into the mattress. "Fuck, ma, look how much she likes that dick, hm?"

"Yeah, shit P, oh! Shit daddy, fuck me like that, fuck-" you whined, your voice breaking as your body trembled with pleasure, hips bucking up to meet each of her piercing strokes, completely overwhelmed by the sensation.

Paige shifted back, hoisting your ankles over her shoulders and folding you deeper into the mattress, her brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten down in intense concentration as she positioned you in the mating press. —She was so close to your drenched pussy—sweaty body flush against yours, nipples coated in your slick sweat pressed together, and she had somehow managed to fit all the length of her strap impossibly within you, buried to fucking hilt. She was screwing you with an intensity that felt like life itself, yet it was as if she was simultaneously killing you.

She was way stronger, way bigger, and had the stamina to keep up at it for multiple rounds: with the determination in her movements and the determined look on her face, you knew there was no chance of her letting you up soon—especially not when you could feel every single inch of the plastic inside your soaked, dripping cunt, and the faint pulse of her vibrator against your g-spot. "Deep, baby, deeep... aw shit," she groaned as she plunged into the depths of your cunt, her movements audible and slick, cock messily slipping in & out of you like a fountain. Your arousal dripped dirtily all over both your thighs, coating both Paige, yourself, and the sheets beneath you. Your toes clenched tightly, a shout escaping you, far too loud for a 3 a.m. night in your condo. She filled you, true to her word, her thrusts deep and unyielding as you clung to her back—perhaps for comfort, even as she was the one ravaging your pussy. Your purple nails raked into her skin—her favorite color—leaving marks as you desperately pulled her closer, your arousal splashing onto her as she pounded into you.

"Ah! AH! Fuck, Paige... please!" you cried out when you felt the tip of her strap hitting a spot—one you never even knew existed, as you had NEVER had anything prodding this deep inside of you before.

"Where you feelin' me, baby? Hm? Show me where I'm at," she whispered against your cheek, her labored breath mingling with the clapping of slick, heated skin.

Your hands shook as you tried to gather the strength to point, but your mind was spinning. When she spat at you, commanding like a dominatrix, "Where?!" you couldn’t help but obey. "Here! Here, right here, Paige!" you moaned, clutching your lower abdomen, feeling the outline of her strap. She released her grip on your legs briefly, guiding your hands to press down against it. Each thrust emphasized the jab and knock in your gut, sending a euphoric mix of pressure and pleasure through your body.

You made a sound—something between a cry and a shout, lost in the overwhelming of pleasure and passion.

"Imma make that pussy cum again, baby, okay?" she purred, her voice low and almost sweet, making your cunt clench desperately around her strap, anticipation building with every rock of her hips into yours. "Okay? Talk to me, baby—wanna cum on my dick? Want me to fuck my cum into you?" she coaxed. You sobbed, a desperate moan escaping from the depths of your loins—you could barely breathe, and she was thrilled, her blue eyes shining with dark satisfaction.

"Y-yeah, I want your kids, P, mhm!"

She grinned deviously, increasing her pace, each thrust filled with purposeful intent. "Yeah? You want daddys kids? Give my baby something to do while I’m away?"

"I want you, yeah," you gasped at her, and she smirked at that. "I’m gonna make sure you feel me even when I’m gone this week, baby." And just like that, you were cumming, back to square one enduring her pleasuring wrath. MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: i can't even yap right now.. how are we doing ladies? post-war thoughts 🤔😔💭 i've been gone for so long missed ya byeee!

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youraverageaemondsimp · 11 months ago

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Sweet Nectar // Aemond Targaryen x Wife!Reader

Summary: Aemond feels ever so slightly jealous when he watches his wife feed their babe, he'll have a taste for himself tonight.

WARNINGS: mdni, afab!reader, lactation kink, breeding kink, unprotected p in v sex, reader is already a mom, breastfeeding, aemond craving the good old tiddy milk, tiddy sucking, teasing, biting, nipple play, aemond is so down bad for the milkers. + not proofread.

WC: 2,078

A/N: I suddenly got the urge to write this I'm not kidding 😭😭 // diviver credits to @cafekitsune

You coo softly while gently rocking back and forth as the small babe in your arms begins getting fussy in between your arms, you pat her gently and reassure the fussy babe, while caressing her cheek.

“Are you hungry, my dear?” You ask her as if she'll respond verbally, a small croak leaves her throat before she coos, stretching her tiny arms and placing it upon your breast as a way to answer your question. You chuckle at her action before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Shall I take her to the nursemaid, princess?” The maidservant allotted to you questions, putting your comfort as a first priority, you shake your head, “No need, I shall feed the babe myself.” You reject her politely, “Can you undo the lace?” You ask her, and she nods, her fingers making quick work of the lace that's holding the top of your gown together, you pull the material down — along with your chemise — just enough for one of your breasts to be exposed but cover everything else.

You hold the baby in a feeding position, and she immediately latches onto your nipple, suckling as she makes soft satisfied noises, as her hunger is being satiated. You giggle at her cuteness and watch as she closes her eyes, slowly drifting off to sleep.

The door to your shared chamber opens and you lift your head up to see Aemond, carrying a bunch of scrolls and books in his hands, he sets them down on the nearby table before turning his attention to you. “My prince.” the maidservant greets and Aemond nods, “Prepare a bowl of water and a rag, after that, leave us alone.” He commands her and she bows, swiftly beginning to do what she's been told. After the maid leaves the bowl and leaves, Aemond quickly begins to retire for the night, undressing himself, usually, he would call in a manservant or you would help him, but he cannot call the manservant when you're breastfeeding, and neither can you help him because of that.

So he does it himself, after undoing his upper garment, he wears nothing but his white plain transparent tunic and breeches ; that are more suited for sleepwear, loose and thin. Aemond later washes his hands and forearms thoroughly, ridding them of any kind of dirt before making his way to you.

“How was your day, Husband?” You ask him, watching as he comes near and stands next to you, staring at you for a second before sitting down beside you. “Hm, t'was decent, what about you?” He asks you, his gaze dropping down to your chest. “It was good, I did not wish to partake in any social meetings today, but rather decided to spend it with her.” You look down at your child who is now sleeping. Aemond hums before he lays his head on your shoulder getting comfortable in your presence enough to express his desires.

“I want to have my wife tonight.” He mutters, nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck as his gaze remains fixated on your chest while he rests his hand on your thigh, slowly drawing imaginary patterns on it, indicating what he wants. Your face heats up at his implications, “You will, husband, let me call the servant and have her taken to the nursery for tonight.” You reply to him, slowly pulling her away from your breast and covering yourself up.

“I will call for the servant.” He offers, hoping to help you out and you nod, he opens the chamber door stepping out and turning to the guard before asking the guard to fetch a servant, to which he immediately obeys and goes to get one. Aemond gets inside, making his way over to you before he takes your child from you and hands her over to the servant who had entered the room just then. “Take care of her for the night in the nursery, should there be any news that she was hurt in any way, I will cut off all of your limbs.” He threatens to which the poor servant just nods her head in fear assuring him that no harm would occur to your child, and then she takes her away.

The door closes and Aemond secures it tightly so it doesn't open upon impact. And all the while Aemond was talking to the servant, you had quickly gotten undressed and were now sitting in your chemise, putting the gown that had fallen to the floor away.

Aemond goes straight to the bed and sits on it and you watch as he removes his eyepatch, placing it on the table next to the bed before he turns his attention to you. He looked so ethereal when he was staring at you, his sapphire glinted as the fire from the chambers reflected off from it. “Come.” He commands and you slowly make your way over to him, now standing in front of him.

He looks up at you the tension thick in the air as his eye is filled with pure desire for you. he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your chest and pulling you, this causes you to stumble and lose your balance which he takes as an advantage to pull you onto the bed with him, flipping you over and getting on top.

His hair curtains around your face as he stares at you, his eye moving back and forth between your own, taking in your beauty. You raise your hand and gently tuck his hair into his ear before caressing his cheek, “You're so beautiful.” You hear him say and you smile, “I could say the same about you, husband.” You respond, He gives you a small smile before tilting his head slightly and connecting his lips to yours.

His lips felt soft against yours, you reciprocated and kissed him back. You felt the heat bloom in your core as he slowly grinds himself against your lower abdomen while kissing you. He slowly slides his hand against yours before intertwining your fingers with his. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to slip inside, allowing him to deepen the kiss which resulted in him humming in satisfaction.

He pulled away shortly after, panting for air, his kisses then trailed down towards your neck, he pecked and nipped at the skin of your neck, leaving bite marks as a way to mark you as his, he untwined his hand from yours to pull down your chemise, causing your tits to spill out of their confines.

He presses kisses down to the valley in between your breasts before he stays there for a while, “You know, I'm jealous—” he begins, his other hand coming up and gently fondling with your breast, “— that our daughter gets to have these whenever she wishes, meanwhile I'd have to wait until night.” He whines slightly, his thumb pressing over your sensitive nipple making you gasp slightly.

He decides he doesn't want to waste any more time and immediately wraps his lips around your nipple, pulling and suckling on your breast like a babe, he swirls his tongue and flicks it up and down the bud, Aemond hums in satisfaction when he feels the taste of your milk in his mouth.

He squeezes and fondles your other breast, rolling your nipple between his index and thumb finger and pulling meanly on it. Your breathing becomes shorter and faster as you begin to get aroused by his ministrations which prompts you to rub your thighs together trying to ease the throbbing between your legs with some friction.

It doesn't go unnoticed by Aemomd, but he instead focuses his attention to your other breast, repeating his actions and drinking your milk selfishly for himself, his teeth grazes against your bud and you wince slightly at the burn it causes only for him to bite onto it, making you whine and squirm before he sucks on it again as a way to soothe the pain he just caused. He pulls away with a wet pop and you take notice of the milk that's dripping from the side of his mouth and down to his neck which was such a perverse sight, yet you couldn't help make you feel more aroused so you guided his head back to your breast again.

And so he took your breast in his mouth once again, drinking all of your milk up you moaned in pleasure as his tongue flicker up and down your bud. You whimpered because you are sensitive from earlier feeding.

You felt him humping against your thigh as he tried ease the tension between his very own legs, he let go of your breast, unable to hold himself back anymore, he sat straight up and began to slip down his pants and take off his tunic, you did the same with your chemise, discarding it and throwing it someone to the side of your chamber.

He spreads your legs wide and lines his cock against your entrance slowly pushing it in, this causes you to tremble in excitement as his cock stretches you deliciously, you let out a gasp once he is fully settled. He lifts your hips off the mattress, holding you by your thighs as he slowly begins to move.

His thrusts were slow at first, almost as if he's teasing himself until he begins to pick up on the momentum, thrusting his hips back and forth, he begins to pick up the speed quite steadily.

You grind your hips to match his rhythm as your body jolts up and down the bed, your tits bouncing as a result, the moans of his name leave your lips like holy chants, “Aemond— oh fuck– right there– Aemond—!” all the while his tip is continuously hitting that sweet spot of yours, he grips one of your breasts and stares at it intently, “They look so good when they're swollen and full of milk.” He refers to your tits, he squeezes your tit slightly and watches as droplets of milk begin oozing out. “Oh gods— you're still full– fuck.” He quickly shifts his weight, dropping your lower body down onto the mattress and leaning forward to take your breast in his mouth while he fucks you.

“Seven fucking hells–— I don't think I can ever get enough of this ; perhaps I should keep you pregnant constantly, Yes? So your tits are always full of milk, for the babe” he grunts, his peak nearing as he mouths at your nipple. “And for me— ” His thrusts become more frantic and desperate, “You would like it wouldn't you? I know you would. You'd love to be full of me— I can only imagine how gorgeous you'd look, constantly waddling around while carrying my child— Answer me.” He growls. “Yes yes yes yes! yesyes! Aemond! I'd love it so so so much please please—” You babble as you feel your peak nearing. “Good girl— fuck!” He moans as he peaks, and your babbling is cut short as you gasp because you too reach your high right after him, the pleasure explodes inside you like a volcano, slowly seeping and coursing through your veins, you feel hot, warm, cold, suffocated all at the same time due to the intensity of the pleasure.

Aemond slows down his thrusts before fully stopping and pulling out, he watches as your cunt pushes out his spend to which he tuts disappointedly at before scooping it up with his finger and pushing it all back in.

“Here I am; planning to keep you full of my child and yet you're here denying it? Such a disobedient wife.” He slaps your clit as a punishment making you whimper, “I apologise— t'wasnt my intention.” You reply, breathlessly and he hums.

He lays down next to you, catching his breath along with you. You watch and his hands rests on your lower abdomen. He grabs you by your hips and turns you around to face him before he grabs the sheets and throws them over you both before pulling you close, your breasts pressing up against him, and the milk transfering over to his chest, making it sticky.

“Aem— it's messy.” Your voice comes out slurred and Aemond simply hums, “Let it be.” He hugs you even tighter, and you sigh, before wrapping your arm around his waist, hugging him back and you both slowly drift off into sleep.

— ! ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond smut #aemond targaryen x reader smut #aemond x reader smut #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x you #x reader smut #x reader #reader insert #hotd smut #house of the dragon smut #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond fic #aemond fanfiction #aemond x fem!reader #aemond

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f1angelz · 5 months ago

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𝒇𝒆𝒅 𝒖𝒑 — lando norris x f!reader

summary: lando has been fed up with Y/N’s bratty attitude, unfortunately for her, he finally bursts out.

content warning: (non proofread) smut, p in v, fingering, cunnilingus, heavy degradation, spanking, swearing (literally starts under the cut), unprotected sex, edging, overstimulation, and a hint of fluff at the end!

guys pls don’t bully me this is the first time i’ve written a full smut fic 😔 if you aren’t into hardcore shit this is your final warning to leave!

── .✦

“You fucking bitch.” As soon as the door was slammed shut, Lando grips her by the neck from behind, turning her around to face him.

“I’ve had enough of your fucking attitude, and your act earlier was the last straw.” His jaw clenched out of frustration and looked her dead in the eyes.

A few hours ago, they went on a date and it was scorching hot. Y/N wasn’t a big fan of the heat— it made her super annoyed, and annoyed she was for the whole entirety of their date.

Lando tried to be patient, trying his best to attend to her needs even if some were out of reach.

And here she was, giving Lando puppy eyes in hopes of him having mercy.

Lando dragged her to the bedroom, “O-ow! Lando, that hurts!” Y/N winced, her body being forced to follow his harsh actions.

“Now you decide to fucking speak after giving me silent treatment on the way home?” He slams her on the bed and she whines, still giving him puppy eyes.

“Those eyes aren’t gonna work on me, fucking bitch.” He aggressively pushes his lips into hers, teeth clashing and tongues fighting. Y/N tries to pull away, but Lando is quick enough to grip her cheeks to restrain her from doing so.

When Lando finally pulls away, she takes this as an opportunity to catch her breath.

“W-wait!” Y/N pleads as he practically rips off her shorts and top, leaving her in her underwear. He, too takes off his shirt and pants also leaving him in his underwear.

“Shut up.” Lando says under his breath, pushing her legs open. “Keep these legs fucking open, ‘kay?” He slaps her inner thigh, making her jolt at the sudden contact.

“Sit up.” He commands and Y/N obeys, resting her back against the headboard while keeping her legs open.

Lando lays on his stomach and positions himself in front of her pussy.

Gently, he placed kisses on her inner thigh while his free hand teased the other.

Y/N’s breaths were stuttering, feeling ticklish at his touch. She wanted more— she needed more.

“Lando please..” She croaked out in a soft, trembling voice, afraid of what his response may be. “Please what? Hmm?” He taunts, looking up at her.

He pulls away from her thigh and focuses on inching closer to her pussy, a wet patch evidently marking on her underwear. Lando smirks, “Already so fucking wet? What a slut.” He mocks and slaps her pussy, earning a moan from the female. He watched the wet patch grew larger and Lando laughed even more.

He teases a finger on her clit, still keeping her underwear on. He licks on the wet patch and Y/N’s mouth hangs open. “P-please..” She begs in a small voice.

Lando pulls her underwear to the side to reveal her wet, desperate pussy. He brings his finger to her clit, rubbing it in painfully slow circles. Y/N looks at him, biting her lip out of frustration.

“Look at this pussy.. So fucking wet, so desperate for me. Yeah? Isn’t that right?” Lando looks at her, applying pressure on her clit. She nods, accepting the fact that she was desperate for his touch.

Unsatisfied with her answer, he slaps her pussy once more. “Speak when you’re spoken to.” Y/N lets out a moan, almost a scream from how sensitive she is. “F-fuck, yes! Fuck p-please, I need your fingers.”

Lando, feeling a tinge of sympathy, removes her underwear to fully reveal her pussy. He teases her entrance with his finger, coating it with her wetness.

Y/N pushes herself down onto his fingers, in attempt to feel stretched out by at least just one finger.

“Needy little bitch. That’s what you want? Fine, fuck yourself on my fingers.” Lando sits up and gets on his knees, finger still inside her.

Y/N, left with no choice yet with such desperation, obeys and starts fucking herself on his digits.

She moans out, and even louder when he adds another and curls it inside her. Lando rubs her clit with his thumb, making her go crazy. “Sh-shit, that feels so good.” She manages to say between her shaky moans.

She picks up the pace, slowly feeling a knot form in her abdomen.

“I’m gonna c-cum, please let me cum.” Y/N begs, looking at Lando.

“You aren’t cumming yet.” He pulls out his fingers and pushes her down on the bed, then aggressively pulls her legs closer to his face to eat her out.

He sinks down onto her, licking a long stripe then stopping at her clit to suck it.

Y/N cries out, finally taking in what she’s been craving for. Lando sucks harder upon hearing her moans, then shoving two fingers in her.

Her jaw hangs open, unable to produce another sound from all the pleasure her body is receiving. Eventually, she feels a familiar sensation in her abdomen— causing her thighs to tighten around Lando’s head.

Lando pushes her legs down and looks up at her, pulling away from her pussy.

Y/N whines, the feeling of pleasure being ripped away from her once more.

Lando gets on his knees and takes her by the waist, aggressively turning her around to put her in all fours.

“P-please..” Was all she could say, “Ass up.” He places a hard slap on her ass and she jolts.

“Do I have to repeat myself?” Two slaps were given, and tears were starting to form in the corners of her eyes— overwhelmed and overstimulated from everything that was happening.

Pissed off, Lando grabbed her hair and shoved her head in the pillows with no remorse. Y/N hiccuped, tears streaming down her face.

Lando gets rid of his underwear, freeing his dick from the restraints. He gives her ass a firm squeeze before shoving his dick in her with no warning, forcefully fitting his thick cock.

Y/N practically screams at the sudden action, the first thrust hitting her cervix causing her tears to shed even more.

“Where’s the bratty little bitch from earlier? Hmm?” Lando asks in a demeaning tone, his rhythm going faster. “I-I’m so— s-sorry, baby p-please!” She sobs out, regretting all she has done— but it was definitely too late.

He slaps her ass again, but this time much harder. Y/N was helpless, gripping on the pillows like her life depended on it. With every thrust, her body was starting to become limp.

Her mind wasn’t processing anything. Only sobs, moans, and whines were coming out of her mouth— her poor pussy severely overstimulated.

Lando pulls her hair, causing her head to jerk upwards. “Fucked out that little brain of yours?”

She doesn’t answer, only sobbing and moaning from the pleasure. “S-sorry, baby I’m s— s-sorry! I wanna cum pl-lease!” She managed to say in between sobs, catching her breath.

He lets go of her hair, limp body falling down on the bed like a rag doll. Lando lets out a laugh, picking up the pace even more.

Y/N’s voice was growing hoarse from all cries and screams she was letting out, and she knew Lando wasn’t gonna stop anytime soon.

The knot in her abdomen forms again for the third time, and she secretly hoped that it would finally release for that night.

“C-cum.. I’m gon— gonna c-cum!” She cries even harder, the pillows visibly wet from her tears and sweat.

“Hmm? The little bitch is gonna cum?” Lando mocks, his thrust going at an ungodly pace. His grip on her hips tighten, pushing it down for him to go even deeper.

“Go cum.” With Lando’s command, Y/N’s most awaited release comes instantly, pleasure immediately washing over her.

He pulls out, her juices gushing out of her entrance. Y/N’s legs shake, her body completely surrendering to collapse. Eyes were half lidded, breaths still shaky and tears were still flowing ever so slightly.

Lando takes a look at her state and a wave of regret instantly surges over his mind.

He sinks beside her on the bed, taking her in his arms. He rests her head on his chest, stroking her hair.

“You s-still love me, right..?” She croaks out, sniffling as she looked up to meet his eyes.

Lando, with a concerned look on his face, wipes her remaining tears away. “My love, I will always love you. I didn’t mean to be so aggressive, especially with my words. I’m sorry baby.” He looks at her endearingly, moving her hair away from her face.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, scanning her body for any bruises. “My ass hurts..” She whines, turning her body slightly to show the red marks he previously made.

“My poor baby.” He pouts and grazes his hand over the marks, making Y/N wince.

“Do you want me to draw you a bath, or would you like to stay like this for a little more?” Lando places a hand on her cheek, stroking it lightly.

“We can stay like this for a while.” She takes his hand on her cheek, intertwining it with her hand.

After a few minutes, Y/N dozed off— embraced in her lover’s arms.

── .✦

#f1 fic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #mclaren #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fic #lando norris imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando norris texts

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yieldtotemptation · 5 months ago

Text

DEALS ft. Miyeon

... is this thing on?

written as a very late addition to @i-am-lifeform24's project.

miyeon x male reader smut

2k words

"Now that you're done with that," Miyeon starts, her voice firm, confident. The voice of someone used to giving you orders. "Take off your clothes."

The command hangs in the air between the two of you, and suddenly you’re under a microscope—but where most people would squirm, you stand tall.

"Okay."

"Okay?" If she was expecting a challenge, she wasn't going to find one here. After all this time, you know what she's looking for—what she expects from you—someone that can match her, that can meet her on her level. "No questions?"

"That is the deal," you answer matter-of-factly, your t-shirt already half-way over your head. "Money for my time, anything goes."

"Anything," she echoes, her usual stone-cold expression betrayed by a hint of excitement playing in her eyes, somewhat surprised that she managed to push the terms of a contract once made between two teenagers who didn't know any better into new territory.

Anything used to just mean silly tasks—cooking, cleaning, doing all the things that would absolutely not be suitable for her to do—but all just being an excuse for keeping Miyeon company.

That was until now.

Still, you don't have time to think about what’s changed between you fixing her sink and her watching you take off your pants—she’s decided that now is as appropriate an occasion as any to test your limits, and you’ve never been known not to oblige her.

It's only when you're stepping out of your briefs that you catch it—that break in her facade, the slight blush that creeps up her cheeks, that indication that maybe Miyeon isn't so far above the rest of Earth's mortals as she would like you to think.

"Having trouble finding somewhere to look?" You can feel her eyes following you, scanning up and down your body as you fold your clothes neatly, placing them on a corner of the nearby couch.

"The opposite." Whatever crack you just saw in Miyeon's composure is gone as quick as it arrived, and she's all business again, walking over to you, heels that let her meet your eyes clicking against the cold living room floor. "I don't have anywhere I don't want to look."

It's no secret that you feel the same—she's an absolute work of art. It's in the sway of her hips, the curve of her waist, the swell of her lovely, petite breasts under her sheer, near see-through shirt. But you're not here to just admire her. You're here to serve, to satisfy, to be of use.

She stops, close enough that her exhales become your inhales, close enough that the smell of whatever she's wearing—something smoky, something ludicrously expensive—drives you wild.

Close enough that when her eyes alone make you twitch, she feels it brush against her waist.

"Look at me."

Another demand obeyed—all part of the deal.

Maybe it's the light, maybe it's the proximity—her eyes are darker than you remember, a deep brown that would swallow you whole, if only you'd let them.

"Hands," she says next, and she's taking hold of your wrists, pulling them to her, to her body—her unfathomably-tight waist—squeezing down on your fingers to make sure she's locked in your grip. "Now kiss m-"

You're jumping the gun, pulling her closer to you, pulling her lips into yours, warming your tongue with hers, tasting sweetness, tasting her eagerness—or more correctly, her neediness.

She’s opening the door a little, letting you discover a part of her that she's been hiding from you, truly meeting her for the first time—her left hand finding the nape of your neck, her right reaching down below, wrapping fingers around you, holding you against her.

"Mmmph..." She's moaning into you now, her hands are on the move, feeling, stroking—soft, delicate fingers taking your full measure, all the way from the tip... all the way to the base.

It’s making you grow bigger for her, too big for her dainty grip, but she squeezes back against you, gliding her hand up and down, up and down, again and again—all for her pleasure, showing you that no matter how good she's making you feel, it's making her feel better.

That’s when you break the rules for the first time, taking the initiative and running your hands up her back to the lift up her shirt, wanting to catch just a glimpse of more of her flawless, porcelain-white skin. Before you can boldly make your move, she's pushing back against your chest with her free hand, releasing your lips and leaving you with a groan, halting you in your tracks.

"No," she whispers, her eyes darkening with something that isn't quite anger, but is definitely a warning. "Not yet."

A gulp and a nod is all you have for her in response, but it's enough to satisfy her—enough to return her lips to your body, to continue her excruciatingly delightful movements over your shaft.

Her breath is hot, heavy, as she plants kisses on your neck, your collarbone—tracing lines down your chest with her tongue, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake. Miyeon's eyes lock onto yours as she continues her expedition, watching you watch her work—watch her make you unravel.

Every movement is intentional—the lower her lips get, the slower her strokes, each more deliberate, each one a silent experiment of how much you can bear.

She takes her time, until at last, finally, she's on her knees before you—no longer stroking, no longer moving—just breathing on you, staring at you, frozen in fascination at your length—at what she's done to you.

And then she licks her perfect, pretty, pink lips.

"Miyeon-" is all you can muster, but it’s too late—she's taking you in—inhaling you—warm—fucking hot—lips wrapping around you, forcing you to hold your breath as she brings you deeper, deeper into her throat.

You had expected teasing, torture even—but not this—not her tongue sliding under your shaft, not her moans around your cock, not her eyes watering as she breathes you in, making a mess of you until her nose has met your chest and your tip has met the back of her throat.

It takes all your strength to keep your knees from buckling as she keeps you there, keeps you down her throat, testing herself against you. The pleasure is overwhelming, intense, but for the two of you it's the power play—she's the one looking up at you, her makeup smudged, eyeliner a disaster—yet she's in complete and total control, feeling your body tighten from just a flick of her tongue, feeling you get closer and closer to the edge.

"Gah-" she rises back up off you, unsheathing your cock from her throat, a glob of her spit following behind her, a glistening bridge from her lips to your tip. She's grinning wildly now, so fucking pleased with herself, so turned on by having conquered you—having conquered your cock. "I did it."

But you don't get to recover—how silly of you to think she would let you—and her lips are back on you, lightning shooting up your spine as she takes in half of you, before releasing—again and again and again.

She's bobbing up and down, putting on a show for you—letting you see how her cheeks hollow, how her lips take you in, how you make her eyes water and how her tongue does it’s best to break you—a masterful dance that somehow makes you feel both worshiped and utterly dominated.

"Mmmmm..." A flick of her tongue against your tip lets you know that she's tasting you, tasting the warm pre-cum leaking past her lips. "I fucking knew it," she murmurs, her voice low, but loud enough for you to hear. "Knew that you would be this big—knew that I could take whatever you had."

"God, Miyeon—" you eke out a groan as she starts to stroke you again, keeping up the pace, keeping up the pleasure.

"Knew that you would taste this good—knew that it would feel this fucking good in my throat."

She doesn't wait for an answer—doesn't need one—her tongue is already back on you, painting your cock with her saliva, up and down, around and around.

It's her moans around you—she's loving this, loving doing this to you—so much so that she doesn't even mind it when you thread your fingers through her hair, pulling on her more forcefully than you intended, desperately pushing more of yourself into her. She takes it, welcomes it, confident that if it came down to it, she would be the last one standing.

You still try—stopping her head still and start to move—start to pound away. Her eyes widen, but she doesn't pull away, not even when you pick up speed, not even when her moans get muffled and you're hitting the back of her mouth, not even when you're the one setting the pace and burying your cock down her hot, tight throat.

It's in her eyes—the challenge, the suggestion—use me, break me if you can—cum—give it to me.

Her hands are on your hips, beckoning you, pushing you to go faster, to fuck her face harder—encouraging you, egging you on. And so you do—you give in to the instinct that's been burning in your veins since she first made you strip for her—you fuck her mouth, her throat, ruin that gorgeous, fucking irresistible face as she struggles to keep up.

Tears are streaming down her eyes now, her breaths coming in ragged gasps around you, but she never looks away—her gaze holding yours, telling you that she's okay, that she wants this—that she can take this.

You shouldn't be fucking her face this hard—it shouldn't be possible to—but you keep going, groaning—"Miyeon", "fuck", "God"—and just when you're about to slip, just when you're about to completely fall apart in her mouth, she forces herself off you, seizing back control and holding you at your base, aiming directly at her picture-perfect visage.

"Cum for me," she squeezes you, wringing you, wanting you. "Do it."

You throb, you explode, you cum, you obey—because that's what she’s asking of you.

It takes every effort to keep your eyes open—to see Miyeon—as you feel the orgasm ripping through your body, the heat spilling from you and onto her face, her chin, her neck—onto a carefully manicured eyebrow, and an undeniably cute dimple. Your cum showers her, paints her, masking her with your release.

And Miyeon takes it, takes all of it, eagerly, smiling up at you through the mess, poking out a tongue to taste as much of you as she can, despite it still overflowing and dribbling down the corners of her mouth.

You shake, you want to collapse, but Miyeon keeps her hold on you, looking up at you like you're her fucking property—and maybe in this moment, you are. Her eyes are glazed over, her cheeks are flushed, and through the cum you can see that devastating smile as she swallows and drinks what remains of you down.

"So fucking good," she whispers, her hand still moving, still stroking you, placing soft, sweet kisses on your exhausted cock, still sending those tingles of pleasure shooting through you. "I knew you would be amazing."

"Fuck, Miyeon."

But she's already rising, on her feet and looking at you expectantly, wiping the excess from her chin with the back of her hand. "I want more," she states. It’s simple. It’s a command. "Take me to the bedroom."

And she's already walking away, peeling off her clothes, soft fabric meeting the floor as you catch a sight of the lovely slope of her back, the perfect curve of her ass—her body bared before you, calling for you to take it.

“Come on,” she calls out to you, “we’re just getting started.”

You stumble forward, following after her—obeying her wishes.

Because why wouldn't you?

That was your deal.

---

A/N: thanks again to @i-am-lifeform24 for actually managing to get me to finish something. what a legend.

#kpop smut #miyeon smut #gidle smut #male reader

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