#simple wall paintings for bedroom

[gipssolution]

Are you hoping to give your interior a fresh look? Look no further than the cutting-edge wall painting options from GipsSolution. Our creative team of painters is skilled in producing one-of-a-kind, vivid wall designs that enhance your area and represent your personal taste.

[amohaart]

The Influence of Culture on Traditional Paintings

Traditional paintings are more than decorations; they are heartfelt stories that connect us to our roots. They embody the values, beliefs, and dreams of generations, reminding us of the diversity and beauty of human culture. As we bring these timeless pieces into modern spaces, we celebrate not only our heritage but also the shared humanity that transcends borders. By cherishing traditional art, we keep these narratives alive, ensuring they continue to inspire and connect us in an ever-changing world. Each brushstroke carries a message, waiting to touch hearts and spark connections across time.

[ryaancreativeliving]

10+ Latest Wall Painting Designs For Bedroom

Your bedroom is more than just a place to sleep; it’s a place where you can relax, rejuvenate and express your personal style. One of the most effective ways to transform this intimate space is with wall painting designs. The right wall paint can set the mood, enhance the ambience and reflect your unique personality. 10+ Latest Wall Painting Designs For Bedroom

[johnben01]

Elevate Your Space with Modern Bedroom Design Services

Introduction:

Your bedroom is your sanctuary, and its design should reflect your style, comfort, and personality. If you're envisioning a modern, sleek bedroom that combines simplicity with elegance, you've come to the right place. In this article, we'll explore the world of modern bedroom design and the services that can transform your bedroom into a contemporary haven.

Your bedroom is more than just a place to sleep; it's a reflection of your personal style and a space where you can relax and recharge. Modern Bedroom Design Services can help you transform your bedroom into a modern oasis. Collaborate with experienced professionals to turn your dream bedroom into a reality, whether you're in Florida or any other location.

Defining Modern Bedroom Design

The Essence of Modern Bedroom Design

Elements That Define Modern Bedrooms

Modern Bedroom Design Services

Crafting Your Dream Space: Modern Bedroom Design Services

Balancing Simplicity and Elegance

Modern Bedroom Design Services in Florida

Modern Bedroom Design Services in the Sunshine State

Exploring Florida's Unique Design Aesthetic

Top Picks for Modern Bedroom Design Services in Florida

Simplicity Meets Elegance: Simple Bedroom Design

The Beauty of Simplicity in Bedroom Design

Elements of Simple Bedroom Design

Finding the Right Balance

Enhancing Your Bedroom Wall Design

Elevating Your Space with Creative Wall Design

Bedroom Wall Design Services in Miami

The Impact of Wall Design on Your Bedroom's Ambiance

Choosing the Right Bedroom Design Service

Key Considerations When Selecting a Modern Bedroom Design Service

Affordable Luxury: The True Value of Modern Bedroom Design Services

Effective Communication: The Key to a Successful Bedroom Project

Bringing Your Dream Bedroom to Life

Maximizing the Potential of Your Bedroom Space

Incorporating Your Style into Your Bedroom Design Plan

Conclusion: Transforming Your Bedroom

Recap of Key Points and Considerations

Embrace Modernity in Your Bedroom Design

Your bedroom is more than just a place to sleep; it's a reflection of your personal style and a space where you can relax and recharge. Modern Bedroom Design Services can help you transform your bedroom into a modern oasis. Collaborate with experienced professionals to turn your dream bedroom into a reality, whether you're in Florida or any other location.

Your bedroom is a retreat, a place of relaxation and rejuvenation, and its design should reflect your unique personality and tastes. Modern Bedroom Design Services can help you create a contemporary haven that's both elegant and functional. Collaborate with experienced professionals to turn your dream bedroom into a reality, whether you're in Florida or any other location.

Your kitchen is the heart of your home, a space where culinary creativity meets family gatherings. If you're dreaming of a luxurious, modern kitchen that seamlessly blends aesthetics and functionality, you've come to the right place. In this article, we'll explore the world of Luxury Modern Kitchen Design Services, highlighting the best options and the role of a Kitchen Designer in creating your dream kitchen.

Defining Luxury Modern Kitchen Design

Luxury Meets Modernity: The Essence of Modern Kitchen Design

Elements of Luxury in Kitchen Design

Luxury Modern Kitchen Design Services

Crafting Your Dream Space: Luxury Modern Kitchen Design Services

Balancing Aesthetics and Practicality

Luxury Modern Kitchen Design in Miami

Miami's Unique Design Aesthetic

Luxury Modern Kitchen Design Services in Miami

Top Picks for Luxury Modern Kitchen Design in Miami

The Value of a Kitchen Designer

The Artistry of Kitchen Designers

Collaborating with a Kitchen Designer: Transforming Your Space

How to Choose the Right Kitchen Designer

Discovering the Best Kitchen Design Services

What Sets the Best Kitchen Design Services Apart

Beyond the Price Tag: The True Value of Luxury Modern Kitchen Design Services

Effective Communication: The Key to a Successful Project

Revamp Your Space with Remodeling

Maximizing the Potential of Your Kitchen Space

Integrating Remodeling into Your Kitchen Design Plan

Creating Your Dream Luxury Modern Kitchen

Recap of Key Points and Considerations

Embrace the Fusion of Luxury and Modernity in Your Kitchen

Your kitchen deserves to be more than just a place to cook; it should be an embodiment of your style and functionality needs. Luxury Modern Kitchen Design Services can help you transform this essential space into a masterpiece. Collaborate with experienced Kitchen Designers to turn your dream kitchen into reality, whether you're in vibrant Miami or any other location.

This article has equipped you with the knowledge to make informed decisions, from understanding the essence of luxury modern kitchen design to choosing the best services and designers for your project. Don't settle for an ordinary kitchen when you can have a luxurious, modern culinary haven. Elevate your home with the fusion of luxury and modernity, and make your kitchen the heart of your home.Also This article has provided you with insights to make informed decisions, from understanding the essence of modern bedroom design to selecting the best services and designers for your project. Don't settle for a mundane bedroom when you can have a modern, elegant retreat. Elevate your space with the fusion of simplicity and elegance, making your bedroom a haven of contemporary comfort and style.

Source :- https://expressnewstimes.com/luxury-modern-bedroom-design-services/

[gallifreyfallsnomorre]

Kids Room - Teen Inspiration for a small rustic gender-neutral medium tone wood floor kids' room remodel with white walls

[unstable-samurai]

Instructions

Irene x Male Reader

word count: 3.2K

—

You drive up to Irene's mansion, where every inch of the lawn looks meticulously manicured, and the fountain at the entrance shoots water in a pattern that can only be described as "obscenely expensive." You still can't believe you were hired to train a woman who doesn't seem to need a single day in the gym, but money is money, right?

You step out of the car and walk to the front door, a massive wooden structure that probably weighs more than your car. Before you have the chance to knock, the door opens as if the house has been eagerly awaiting your arrival. Irene appears, and the first thing you think is that the photos simply don't do her justice.

She's like an upgraded version of a classic diva, someone with a beauty that would be admired in any era of humanity, now enhanced by all the improvements time could offer. Black hair cascading in soft waves, feline eyes that devour you in a fraction of a second, and a posture that makes you wonder if you're standing before a queen or a trap disguised as a woman.

"Oh, I was excited to finally meet my personal trainer," she says.

"Ms. Irene," you reply, offering your hand in a gesture that feels outdated in her presence. Her hand is soft and firm, and the grip is just enough to make you feel that you are, without a doubt, in foreign territory.

"Come on, I'll show you the house," she says, turning quickly without waiting for a response. You follow her, walking through a house that is a maze of marble, stainless steel, and glass. Every piece of art on the walls screams in a flamboyant way, "I have more money than you can imagine," and the faint scent of fresh flowers lingers in the air, as if even the aroma of the house was custom-made.

"This here is the living room," she says, passing through a room larger than your entire apartment, and you pretend not to be impressed. "And over there is the kitchen. You might need something to drink after the workouts. Or during, if I decide to tire you out too much."

She smiles again, and this time you can’t help but smile back, with that kind of irony that only arises when you know you're in trouble.

"This is the bedroom," she says, stopping in front of a closed door. You feel the tension rise a bit, and she notices it. "Not that you’ll need it, but I thought you'd like to know where it is." She opens the door and reveals a room that looks like it came straight out of a decor magazine: an immense bed, silk sheets, and a view of the garden that seems hand-painted.

"Nice place," you say, more out of politeness than anything else.

"Thank you. Now, the gym," she says, as if this was the true purpose of the entire visit. She leads you to a room where all the exercise machines seem to shine with newness. "I need to stay in shape, after all," she says, leaning casually on a treadmill, her posture suggesting that the idea of sweat is something completely alien.

"Shall we begin, then?" you ask, already pulling out the water bottle from your bag, trying to appear professional.

You decide to start the session with the basics, which seems like the best approach when dealing with someone whose idea of physical effort probably consists of reaching for the remote control.

"So, Irene, have you trained before?" you ask, but in your mind, she doesn’t exactly look like the type who frequents a gym.

She smiles, that smile you're already beginning to associate with trouble. "Only if you count marathon shopping trips and half-hour Pilates sessions with my instructor who told me to breathe deeply and think of happy places. Does that count?"

You smile back. "Well, let's start with something simple. A warm-up. Just to prepare the muscles."

"Oh, I love a good warm-up," she replies.

You guide her through some basic stretches, and of course, she starts asking for help. "Can you show me how to do this one? I've always had trouble with it," she says while trying to touch her toes.

You approach, placing your hands on her waist to guide her, trying to ignore the fact that she’s perfumed for a workout. "Like this, push a little further forward... That’s it."

She lets out a soft sigh, almost inaudible, but you notice. "I don't think I've ever had someone help me like this," she says, making you realize that "help" has multiple connotations for her.

"Practice makes perfect," you respond, trying to stay focused.

After the warm-up, you lead her to the weight machines. "Let's start with something simple, like the leg extension machine. This will work your quadriceps."

She looks at the machine as if it were some kind of medieval torture device. "Quadriceps... Right. And this does what exactly? Makes me gain muscles?"

"Exactly. You sit here, adjust the weight, and lift your legs to extend the knee. It’s great for toning the thighs."

She sits down, but instead of following your instructions, she just pretends to be confused. "I don't think I'm getting it. Can you show me again?"

You lean in to help her adjust the position of her legs, and you feel her gaze fixed on you. "Like this? Is it good now?" she asks, her voice softer than it should be for a simple exercise instruction.

"Yes, it's perfect," you reply.

"So, have you been training for a long time?" she asks as you guide her through the exercise. "It’s noticeable, you know... by your physique, the way you explain…"

"I’ve been training for a few years. It’s a passion of mine."

"Passion? Interesting," she says. "And are you single? Or is there someone waiting for you at home after you spend the day helping women like me stay in shape?"

You hesitate, realizing that the conversation is veering off course.

"I'm single. I guess my work takes up most of my time. What about you? You told me your husband is always traveling, right?"

"He's away most of the time, yes. His work is... demanding. But luckily, I know how to take care of myself," she says, lifting her legs on the machine with a little more enthusiasm. When Irene was done, she paused to drink water, then walked between the machines until she chose the next one. “Hey, help me here. I don't want to mess up the movement, I need your guidance." She says, standing in front of the lat pulldown machine.

"Oh, great. This one’s for your back and shoulders," you explain, adjusting the weight. "You hold here, pull the bar down, and then release slowly, feeling the resistance."

She looks at the machine as if it were an abstract art piece.

"Looks complicated. Show me how it's done?"

You demonstrate the movement, feeling her eyes on every motion of your body. When you finish, she positions herself, but instead of pulling the bar, she holds it for a second, looking at you with a false expression of confusion. "I think I’m not doing it right. Can you guide me?"

You approach again, this time placing your hands on her arms, helping her execute the movement. "Like this," you say, your voice a little lower. "Pull with your back muscles, not just your arms."

"Since you’ve been working out for a long time, you must be very strong," she comments as she pulls the bar, her muscles tensing softly under your hands. "And you must be used to lifting heavy, right?"

"It depends on the workout," you respond, trying to ignore the fact that every word she says seems to have a double meaning. "But it’s always good to vary, to do a bit of everything."

"So, how many of these should I do?" she asks, as if she’s genuinely interested in the answer, but her eyes say something else.

"Let's do three sets of twelve reps," you reply, trying to keep a professional tone. She does the first set with you close by, watching every movement, and then asks for your help with the next machine.

The dynamic continues until, by the end of the workout, she’s sweating, but in a way that looks more like a healthy glow than discomfort. She stretches, her muscles relaxing, and looks at you with that same smile that started everything. "I think you made me work pretty hard today. Maybe I’ll need a massage afterward," she says, her tone provocative.

You smile, unsure whether to take her seriously or laugh. "Massages aren’t part of the package, but we can talk about a relaxation stretch."

"We’ll see," she says, stepping closer with that smile that always precedes trouble, the kind you should have learned to avoid. “It seems like I’m the only one sweating here,” she says, with a sweetness that’s pure venom, before leaning in and, without warning, licking your cheek.

You take a step back, your heart pounding in your chest. "Ms. Irene, what is this?!"

"I told you, you’re not very sweaty. And I licked you to prove it," she responds with the casualness of someone asking the time.

"But what the hell does that mean? I came here to work—"

"And you’ll get paid at the end, of course!" she interrupts, her smile widening in a way that only makes things worse. “I just want… to have a little fun with you. Include that in the deal. You could earn a bonus for it, if you’d like.”

She takes another step forward.

“Irene, you’re married. Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not a good idea.”

“No one needs to know, sweetheart,” she whispers, as if it were a secret you truly wanted to hear. “You’re too young to be so worried about life.”

You try to speak, but the words come out jumbled, as if your mouth forgot how to work.

“I-I… This isn’t right.”

She laughs, a sound that makes you feel like a mischievous boy caught in the act. “I bet I’ll make you change your mind once you see what you’re missing.” With a quick, decisive movement, she removes her top, revealing small, pale, perfect, and provocative breasts. Her smile widens, and you feel your face flush with heat. Worse than that—you feel your cock pulse in your pants.

“What do you think?” she asks, each word dripping with irony and certainty.

“Cover yourself, please!” Your voice comes out louder than you intended, but the plea is almost pathetic.

“Oh, don’t play the saint with me,” she retorts, suddenly stepping closer, grabbing your hand with firm resolve and placing it on her breast. The touch is warm and soft. You swallow hard, but it feels like the lump in your throat is stuck there for good. And the worst part? You can’t pull your hand away.

“What do you think? My boobs are small, but they fit perfectly in your mouth,” she teases, her voice lower, more intense.

“This isn’t right, Ms. Irene…” you try, but your resistance is fragile.

“Shh! Just call me Irene,” she orders, and before you can protest again, she seals any chance of escape with a kiss—warm and commanding, as if she already knew you wouldn’t say no.

Before you could even process what was happening, Irene had already wrapped her hand around your cock. With force. With a desire that you felt reverberate down your spine. “You’re so hard for me,” she whispers, her lips pulling away from yours, but the heat of her proximity still clinging to your skin.

“Irene…” you murmur, the name escaping as a whisper, almost a plea, but for what? For her to stop or to keep going?

“That’s right,” she continues, giving you no room to regain control. “I want to hear you moan my name while you fuck me good.”

Before you could refuse—or worse, agree—she pulls you toward a weight bench like she’s practiced the move a thousand times. It’s astonishing how a woman so small, so delicate, can exert such absolute control over you. You feel like a toy in her hands, powerless to resist.

You take off your shirt while she kneels to untie your shoes, making sure every detail is perfect, that you’re comfortable—but not for you, for her. When she asks you to take off the rest, you comply without question, feeling the cool air caress your exposed skin. She compliments your physique, her words sliding over your skin like hot oil. Her hands roam over your muscles, her fingers tracing the contours of your biceps.

“You’re so hot,” she murmurs, kissing your chest, her lips warm and soft. The excitement builds within you, uncontrollable, wild.

You sit back down on the bench, Irene kneels between your legs, her smile a mix of wickedness and pure desire. She takes your cock with a confidence that makes you hold your breath, her touch firm, almost possessive. “Wow… you’re much bigger and thicker than my husband,” she murmurs, licking the tip, teasing, while her eyes remain fixed on yours. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to have something like this… I’m going to love gagging on this cock.”

She slowly opens her mouth, her lips stretching around the head of your cock, and the sensation is mind-blowing. You watch, mesmerized, as she starts to take you in, inch by inch, until her mouth is completely full. “Oh, yes,” she mumbles with difficulty, her words muffled as she struggles to accommodate your size.

She begins to move her head up and down, faster and faster, the wet, warm sound of her mouth creating a steady rhythm. Her small mouth adjusts to your cock, fighting the instinct to pull away, but instead, she pushes forward, making it clear she wants more.

The sight of her, drowning on your cock, is almost unbearably arousing. You can’t resist, your hands go to her hair, pulling to gain more control. With a decisive move, you push deeper into her throat, and the muffled moan she lets out is a mix of pleasure and challenge. “Just like that,” she moans, tears welling in her eyes from pleasure and effort, but with no intention of stopping. She wants this as much as you do.

You feel her throat tightening around your cock, each movement sending waves of pleasure through you as she takes you as deep as she can, not giving up even when her air becomes scarce. The mix of pain and pleasure on her face only fuels your desire further, and you continue, deeper and deeper, until she finally has to stop to breathe, gasping, but with a satisfied, lascivious smile on her face.

Irene stands up, her gaze burning with a desire that mirrors your own. She starts to take off her leggings, revealing she’s not wearing any panties. The sight of her like this, naked and ready, is enough to take your breath away.

Without a second thought, you grab her firmly, your hands holding her slim waist as you lift her off the ground with an ease you didn’t even know you had. Irene lets out a low, sensual moan as she wraps her legs around you, locking her ankles behind your back, pulling the two of you even closer. With a decisive movement, you press her against the nearest wall, the cold concrete contrasting with the growing heat between you.

“Ohhh, yes,” she moans as you penetrate her for the first time, her head falling back, hitting the wall, but she doesn’t seem to care. “You’re so thick!”

With each thrust, Irene responds with louder, more desperate moans. “Just like that, baby… more, please, more!” Her voice is a mix of command and plea, her nails digging into your shoulders, pulling you closer, as if she wants to merge with you.

“That’s it! Oh, God! You fuck me better than my husband!”

That somehow spurs you on, every movement becoming deeper, stronger, as if you’re trying to shove every inch of yourself into her. Irene bites her lip, her face in pure pleasure, and then she starts babbling, as if facial expressions weren’t enough to describe what she’s feeling. “Yes… fuck me… fuck me hard… do what my husband never could…”

But she’s not the only one on the edge. The heat of her body, the almost painful tightness around your cock, every moan and sigh, it all makes you want more, makes you lose control.

After what feels like both an eternity and an instant, you feel like you need more. With a quick move, you pull away from the wall and carry her to the bench. Irene drops to the floor, turns around, positioning herself on all fours while you sit down. She positions herself, slowly lowering onto your cock, moaning as she feels you stretch inside her, filling every inch.

She leans back against you, her head resting on your shoulder, her body sinking even further into your lap. Your hands immediately move to her small breasts, squeezing them, while your lips find her delicate neck, biting and sucking the soft skin. Irene lets out a loud moan, the sound of pure satisfaction, and arches her body, pushing herself even deeper.

“Yes… leave a mark… mark that you were here… that you fucked me like no one ever has,” she pleads, her words breathless, interrupted by moans that only grow louder as you squeeze and thrust into her.

You don’t hesitate, biting harder, leaving a visible mark on her neck, a testament to what’s happening. Irene shudders in response, her pussy tightening even more around you, each of her movements sending waves of pleasure through you, making you forget any shred of morality. She moves against you, her rhythm frantic, the need for more, always more, evident in every gesture.

“Yes… yes, baby… fuck me until I can’t take it anymore,” she moans, her hands reaching back, grabbing your neck, pulling you closer as she continues to move, to lose herself in the sensation.

Irene, breathless, leans in closer, and with a soft voice, almost a whisper, says in your ear, “I want you to fuck my tight ass.”

Her words are like a match striking the box, igniting something fierce within you. Irene rises off your lap and walks to a corner of the gym, where she grabs a bottle of lube. She returns with a mischievous smile, shaking the bottle in the air. “I brought this just for this moment,” she says.

“You had this in mind from the start, didn’t you?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

Irene doesn’t bother replying. Instead, she kisses you before lying down on the padded floor, her pale skin contrasting with the dark material, her body exposed in a posture of pure submission, but with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what they want. “Come here, you naughty boy,” she calls, her voice like poisoned honey.

You kneel beside her, your hands trembling with desire as you reach for the lube. Irene smiles at you, then gets on all fours and arches her back. With steady movements, you pour the gel into your palm and begin applying it to her ass, feeling the warm, soft skin under your fingers. Irene lets out a low sigh, closing her eyes, savoring the sensation. "That's it... get me ready, I want to feel every inch of your thick cock inside me."

You don’t waste any time. With one hand, you spread the lube around and inside her ass, your fingers gently penetrating to prepare her. Irene bites her lip, her body slightly writhing, a mix of pleasure and anticipation. "Feels good, keep going... make me ready for you."

When you feel she’s sufficiently lubed, you apply the rest to your cock, rubbing it until it’s fully coated, hard and throbbing.

Irene changes position, lying on her back on the floor. You position yourself between her raised legs, and she looks at you with eyes full of desire. "Come on, don't wait any longer," she begs, her voice low and sweet. You press the tip of your cock against her tight entrance, pushing slowly, feeling the initial resistance. Irene lets out a moan of pain mixed with pleasure, and you keep going, advancing inch by inch, feeling the heat and pressure around you.

"Ahhh… yes," Irene moans, her eyes closed, her hands gripping the padding beneath her as you penetrate her slowly. "It's so big… so tight…"

You keep pushing, feeling her ass open up, millimeter by millimeter, her body adjusting to your size. The heat, the pressure, the sensation of filling her completely is indescribable, and the low moan she lets out only fuels your desire. "Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me deeper," she pleads.

You obey, pushing deeper until you're finally all the way inside her. Irene lets out a muffled moan, a sound of pure satisfaction, her body arching with pleasure. "Yes… like that… don’t stop," she begs, her eyes shining with wild desire. You start to move, slowly at first, savoring every second, every contortion of her body, every moan that escapes her lips.

As you gain rhythm, Irene’s moans grow louder, more desperate. "Yes… fuck my ass… do what I never let my husband do… ahhh… harder… please," she moans, every word an encouragement for you to go deeper, to push both of you to the limit.

And you do, increasing your speed and force, your hands gripping her thighs firmly, guiding each thrust with precision, feeling her body tremble with pleasure until it all comes down to heat, sweat, the pure desire consuming you both.

Irene then begins to tremble, her body stiff with imminent pleasure. She looks at you, her eyes burning with lust and urgency. "Mmm, I’m about to cum, babe… Let’s cum together?" she asks, her voice broken by moans.

You feel her body pulsing around you, each contraction almost pushing you over the edge.

"Do you want to come inside my pussy? Fill it with your cum?"

The desire and madness of the moment take over you. “Can I?” you ask, your voice tense, almost disbelieving.

“Of course you can,” she replies with a wicked smile, "I'm on the pill, darling. I want to feel you unload everything inside me."

With that, you both move into the classic missionary position. Irene spreads her legs and bends them, her feet planted on the floor, while you kneel between her thighs, your cock positioned exactly where she wants it. Irene wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you closer. The warmth and tightness of her pussy confirm your decision: you need to cum inside her.

You start thrusting into her, each stroke deeper and faster than the last. Irene moans loudly, the sound of her moans echoing through the gym. “Ahhh, yes… more… harder…” she screams, her eyes closed in pure ecstasy. “Fuck my pussy… Make me your cum dump.”

You’re on the verge of exploding, your entire body tense with the anticipation of climax. Irene feels it and, between moans, murmurs, “I’m almost there… I’m going to cum…”

“Me too… I’m almost there…” you reply, your breathing fast.

She opens her eyes, her gaze burning with intensity. “Have you ever cum inside a stranger before, huh? Ever filled a married woman with cum, you pervert?” She asks, her words hitting you like a wave of heat.

Those words make you lose control. With one last, powerful thrust, you bury yourself deep inside her, feeling your cum release into the depths of Irene’s pussy. She screams as she cums at the same time, her body writhing beneath you, her legs tightening around your waist.

“Ahhh… I can feel it all… it’s so warm… so good…” Irene moans, her words loaded with pure pleasure, her breathing ragged as she feels every hot stream filling her. You keep moving, even as the orgasm leaves you breathless, prolonging the pleasure for both of you.

When you finally pull away, your cock slipping out, cum begins to slowly drip from her pussy.

Irene smiles, a satisfied and wicked smile, as she looks at you, her breathing still uneven. "That was… exactly what I wanted," she says, her eyes gleaming with contentment, as the cum drips between her thighs, and you watch, fascinated, as she uses her fingers to spread her lips, letting the cum flow freely. She collects some of the semen with a finger and brings it to her mouth, tasting the result of your mix.

Irene kneels beside you and leans in for a deep kiss, her lips warm and moist against yours, while her hands glide over your body, caressing you with a certain tenderness.

“So, handsome, what did you think of the workout?” she asks.

You, still with your body pulsing with residual pleasure, respond with a smile, “I loved it. It was… incredible.”

Irene smiles back. “Good to hear that,” she says, with a note of amusement, “you can consider yourself my official personal trainer now. And the best part, you’re still getting paid for it. Isn’t it the best job in the world?”

You laugh, a mix of incredulity and amusement, realizing that your concept of ‘job’ will never be the same. “So that’s it? Daily sex with a gorgeous woman and I’m going to get paid for it? What are the downsides?”

“There aren’t any. As long as my husband never finds out, of course. But that’s my problem. Your only requirement and concern is to keep me satisfied.”

With that, she gets up nonchalantly, and starts gathering the clothes scattered on the floor.

You also get up, and as you’re dressing, you can’t help but think about the absurdity of the job you’re accepting.

When you’re almost ready to leave, Irene approaches, casually adjusting her hair.

“Don’t forget, tomorrow is training day again,” she says, her voice full of light arrogance. “Same time. Don’t be late. I want more of that… energy,” she adds with a smile.

You nod, laughing to yourself as you try to regain some of your composure.

“Sure, I’ll mark it on the calendar.”

[classyrbf]

ᯓ★ I SPY WITH MY LITTLE EYE! — GETO SUGURU

SYNOPSIS...headcanons about your pervy neighbor suguru

INFO...geto x fem!reader, perv!geto, spying, jerking off, pictures/videos without consent, fantasizing, masturbation, squirting, creampie, overstim,

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

pervy neighbor!geto who takes notices of your curtains being open, giving him a sneak peek of your wet, naked body each time you finish showering

pervy neighbor!geto who manages to always get his mail at the same time as you, making short conversation with a simple good morning or afternoon

pervy neighbor!geto who loves to see you walk away in those tight short thar barely cover your ass, he can’t help but think about what a tease you are

pervy neighbor!geto who takes pictures of you from his bedroom while you get dressed, saving them for later

pervy neighbor!geto who hears your moans and whimpers as you get fucked into the late hours of the night, his dick straining against his sweats and he can’t help but jerk off to you, wishing it was him

pervy neighbor!geto who jerks off to your photos, cumming so hard each time, fantasizing about painting your face with his cum, making a mess of you

pervy neighbor!geto who gets your package accidentally delivered on his doorstep and he thinks this is the perfect time to finally have a real conversation with you, lips quirking into a smirk

pervy neighbor!geto who knocks on your door to deliver the package, watching as your eyes go wide as constant ‘thank yous’ spill from your pretty glossed lips

pervy neighbor!geto who watches you in the dark of his room, focused how you fuck yourself with your dildo, legs spread wide as you squirt all over your sheets

pervy neighbor!geto who jerks off to you, following your tempo and every other movement you make, taking his phone out to snap a picture and record a video for safekeeping

pervy neighbor!geto who doesn’t realize his flash his on and you’re quick to notice, sitting up in your bed. He gasps and his cheeks flush in embarrassment, fumbling with his phone before dropping it

pervy neighbor!geto who hears your voice call out to him “I knew you’ve been watching me, Geto,” you giggle. His eyes go wide and he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. You leave your window cracked, fully opening your curtains for him. This can’t be real, this must be a dream. His mouth salivates when you push the dildo past your sloppy folds and into your greedy hole, fucking yourself faster than before

pervy neighbor!geto who doesn’t expect you to come knocking on his door the next day, smiling up at him and batting your eyelashes, your tits nearly popping out of your shirt

pervy neighbor!geto who ends up fucking you right there on the entryway floor, slamming his hips so hard against yours it’s knocks the breath out of you

pervy neighbor!geto who makes you squirt over and over again, soaking your thighs and the hardwood floor, his cum mixing with your juices because he doesn’t care about overstimulating himself…he won’t waste this chance

pervy neighbor!geto who has you screaming his name and marking his back with your nails, manhandling your body, bending you in positions that you’ve never even thought of before

pervy neighbor!geto who fucks you on every surface in the house, the floor, the kitchen, the living room, the wall, the bathroom counter, and lastly the bed

pervy neighbor!geto who knows to record every second with you, capturing the lewd faces you make and the way your pussy squelches and squirts on his dick, making an hour long sex tape of you two

pervy neighbor!geto who’s the biggest perv known to man but goddamn is he the best fuck you’ve ever had, you love all the attention he gives you

taglist (comment to be added):

@valleydoli @zxnxy @screechingbasementprincess @lexluthorbutnotbald @lynxslokley @briyah0

[rheya28]

Ink Heart Tattoo Shop ♥ The Sims 4: Speed Build // CC

Ink Heart is a small industrial tattoo shop that combines urban edge with a welcoming vibe. The space features graffitied and exposed brick walls, giving it a raw and artistic feel.

➽ Speed Build Video

➽ Rheya's Notes:

● Hello my lovelies! It's been a while since I last posted a build. I'm still quite busy with school until end of August, so build releases are gunna be inconsistent. I will try my best to upload and will notify you all if anything changes. ● Anyways, for this build I used Cepzid's tattoo mod! I placed this build as a generic lot type, but you can also have it set as a cafe!

➽ Important Notes:

●Please make sure to turn bb.moveobjects on! ● Please DO NOT reupload or claim as your own. ● Feel free to tag me if you are using it, I love seeing my build in other peoples save file ● Feel free to edit/tweak my builds, but please make sure to credit me as the original creator! ● Thank you to all CC Creators ● Please let me know if there's any problem with the build

➽ Lot Details

Lot Name: Ink Heart Tattoo Shop Lot type: Generic or Cafe Lot size: 30 x 20 Location: I built this in San Sequoia, but it could be placed anywhere

➽ MODS

● Tool Mod by Twisted Mexi ● Functional Tattoo Chair by Cepzid Creations

➽ CC List

Note: I reuse a lot of the same cc in all my builds, specifically cc's from felixandre, HeyHarrie, Tuds, and Pierisim so if you're interested in downloading past, present, future build from me i suggest getting all their cc sets to make downloading a little easier! other creators include Sooky, Charlypancakes, Sixam, Thecluttercat, Myshunosun, awingedllama, Peacemaker, kiwisim4. This will also ensure that the lots are complete and are not missing any items upon downloading ! Joyceisfox ● Simple Live pt [4] S-Imagination ● Nota Living Room [painting] Simlicy ● Sketches Sooky ● Abstract Framed Art Wooden frame Xtc ● Graffiti Pack House of Harlix ● Bafroom ● Baysic ● Harluxe ● Orjanic pt [1][2] Bbygyal123 ● Aesthetic Collection ● Martini FelixAndre ● Berlin pt [3] ● Chataeau pt [2] ● Colonial pt [3] ● Florence pt [4] ● Grove pt [1] ● Soho [all] CharlyPancakes ● M&S Construction pt [1] ● Sleepy Head Collection ● Soak Harrie ● Klean [all] ● Kwatei ● Octave pt [2][3][4] ● Spoons pt [2] ● Jardane ● Livin Rum ● Kichen Lilac Creative ● Jewelry Collection [sign] Little Dica ● Rise & Grind Myshunosun ● Arrie [laptop] ● Gale Dining [rug] Peacemaker ● Creta [Plant] ● Post Modern living [artwork] Pierisim ● Autie Vera ● Calderone ● Combles ● David Apartment pt [1] ● MCM pt [1][3][5] ● Oak House ● Stefan bedroom ● Unfold ● Winter Garden pt [1] ● Wood Land Ranch Mlyssmakescc ● Pufferhead [wall art] Ravasheen ● Art Attach Graffiti Sixam ● Hotel Bedroom [desk] ● Teen room [wall light] The Clutter Cat ● Sunny Sundae pt [3] Syboulette ● Contemporary Haven [wall art] ● East Oak [wall art] Tuds ● 2nd Wave [chair] ● Cross [wall light]

● DOWNLOAD Tray File and CC list: Patreon Page ● Origin ID: anrheya [previous name: applez] ● Twitter: Rheya28__ ● Tiktok: Rheya28__ ● Youtube: Rheya28__

[varunnehra]

Buy Wall Art Online @Best Prices in India! | GKW Retail

Beautiful Simple Wall Paintings, Wall Art, Simple Wall Painting Art, Living Room Wall Décor, Wall Pictures, Living Room Wall Decor Ideas, Creative Wall Painting Art, Bedroom Wall Décor, Living Room Wall Art, Bedroom Wall Decor Ideas, Bedroom Wall Art, Wall Frame Décor, Best Art, Creative Wall Painting Ideas, Wall Frames For Living Room, Simple Wall Drawings, Room Wall Décor, Dining Room Wall Décor, Bedroom Wall Frames, Bedroom Wall Drawing, Office Wall Art, Simple Wall Art

[bunny-jpeg]

HI BUNNY!!! can I order a milkshake with Oscar Piastri?

bakery menu

thank you for ordering from the bakery! if you would like the suggest your own future order! please check out the menu! there's a little something for everyone and i accept orders from outside of formula one so hit me up!! i do love how simple this one is so thank you! just a simple lil fic for this one!!

milkshake (size kink) served by oscar piastri (formula one)!

cw: smut/pwp, size kink, drinking, enthusiastic consent, fingering

you were all giggles. oscar didn't even want to know what happened on your girls night out. the driver group chat had seen enough of the photos of your adventures out on the town.

now you were dropped off at your doorstep to a very amused oscar. his arms across as he looked at you sit at the front door trying to get your heels off. you were giggly like he was tickling you instead of a few feet away.

once you were barefoot, he crossed over and pulled you in his strong arms. then kissed you on the cheek, "how are you feeling, babe?"

you nodded, "great, i had a great time." then held onto him, "but i missed my big strong handsome boyfriend."

oscar got you into the kitchen and some water in you. he petted the back of your head gently when you drank it down with a mild pain reliever. you snuggled up close to your boyfriend and kissed at his jaw.

he chuckled, "oh, you're just so cute. how much did you have?"

you giggled, "okay, okay. i had three cranberry and vodkas, but you know how they're like red."

he nodded and smiled, "yes, and what colour were you drinks?" he wondered if he should be concerned. but instead you just giggled.

you pinched his cheeks and said, "it was pink. like a baby pink. like painting the walls of the nursery pink. it was like eighty percent vodka." you shook your head, "it was crazy."

oscar pushed back your hair and kissed you on the forehead, "aw, my poor baby. that's a little too strong for you." he knew that your alcohol tolerance was pretty high, he had heard your stories from when you were in post secondary school. so he could only imagine how strong those drinks were.

you clutched onto the front of his mclaren t-shirt, you just wanted to feel close to him. your bigger, stronger boyfriend. at that moment you wanted to feel like a delicate princess.

when you pressed your face against his chest and he ran his fingers through your slightly messy hair. you melted when he kissed your forehead. he asked, "how are you feeling?"

you gingerly pressed your palm against his, noticing the difference between your hands. you knew that formula one drivers has pretty big hands, came with the territory of a sport where they had to grip onto a wheel tightly.

you swallowed at the sight then made eye contact with him. you nodded, "yeah, i just didn't realize how big your hands were. did they get bigger, they're like paws!"

he laughed, "nope they're the same as always, babe." he took your hand in his and kissed the back of it. he let you hold onto him again then guided you off the chair by the kitchen island. then brought you up to your shared bedroom.

his large hand on your lower back felt comforting as you got up the stairs. once in the bedroom, he got his fingers on the zipper of the back of your dress. you giggled when it hit the floor and you stepped out of it. to be washed tomorrow.

you shed your under garments and slid into bed. he was close behind, he admired your naked body under the covers and couldn't help but slide a finger across your wet slit.

"mm, oscar." you whimpered.

he chuckled, "oh, does someone like that? does someone want to be touched by their boyfriend?" his voice was low and got under your skin.

you nodded, "yeah, i mean. i was talking about how hot you were to some girl at the club bathroom. she didn't believe we were dating until i showed a picture of us together. then showed off with a photo of your shirtless."

he laughed, "was some of my dignity left in tact? or did you show that poor girl the full package?"

you giggled and got closer to him, "of course not! i would never show your nudes to anyone!" your voice was a little more high pitched and oscar believed you.

he sank two fingers into your sweet cunt and you made a sweet moaning noise. he loved the sound of that, you sounded so cute. he asked, "how bad do you want it?"

"i want you, oscar! oh my god do i want you! it was at a point where i knew i was talking about you, but i couldn't stop myself. i could feel myself get wet when i thought too hard about you. it was driving me crazy!" you sounded so good. when you gave him consent, he felt a surge of pride in his gut.

he knew that he was the only one that could make you feel that good. that he knew your body inside and out. he dragged his fingers in and out of you, you made a cute noise and it all went to oscar's cock.

"ya like that, beautiful?" he asked, "you like when i touch you, make sure you feel good all over. you're so painfully cute when i finger you."

"please, oscar. why are you so big all over?"

"all over, huh? i guess i might make you feel pretty small then." he was joking, but he didn't realize the effect of his words until you let out a small moan. then he pushed the hair out of your hair as he asked, "oh? does someone like feeling small? such a small, little girl." he chuckled. he could feel the heat in his cheeks.

"yes!" you squeaked, "yes, yes, yes!" you squirmed a little but oscar kept you pinned to the bed. the sounds of his fingers buried in your cunt paired with your heavy pants filled the room.

he chuckled, that was something that he'd bring up at a later point. he kissed your cheek lovingly, "you're so cute. my good girl." his accent did things to your brain as he played with your clit.

you stretched out your legs and felt good all over.

"so beautiful." he admired your beauty. it made his heart race as he continued to rub his fingers against the most inner parts of you. you were so fucking beautiful.

you held onto his strong forearm, you panted heavily. your jaw tensed as you climaxed around his fingers. you felt your entire body throb with want as your toes curled. you tensed up for a moment, nails dug into his skin, "shit, oscar! ah! please!"

you visibly relaxed onto the bed and loosened your grip on him. your head swam with the aftershocks of lust. oscar got his fingers out of your sweet cunt and licked the digits hungrily.

"mmm, you taste so good." he purred, "sweetest i've ever had." his cock strained in his sweatpants. he laid out beside you and would deal with his painful erection after he got you into bed.

he took off his shirt and put it onto your naked body. he tried to find your panties but they were lost in the covers till morning. he laid beside you on the pillows and wrapped his strong arms around you. he kissed the apple of your cheek and said, "take a breather and i'll help you brush your teeth."

he knew that tonight was a good night for you and he was happy that he could end the night on a high note for you. he buried his face into your back and inhaled deeply. he said quietly, "i love you."

you melted a little at his touch, as he laid behind you. he felt so big compared to you. and you felt so protected and small by him, even after he made you orgasm. you knew soon you'd have to get up and go to the bathroom. you didn't want to sleep in your make up and with alcohol still heavy on your breath. but for the moment you laid there, you felt the warmth of your lover.

your big, strong handsome man <3

[gipssolution]

[inkedinshadows]

A Place Called Home

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

Summary: Follow Azriel as he recalls all the places where he's lived but never belonged, until he finds the one where he finally does.

Warnings: a bit of Inner Circle slander, I guess? But not really tbh. Mentions of wing clipping

Word count: 2.1k

A/N: I don't know what I think of this one tbh. It's not exactly what I had in mind, but I've made my peace with it. @azrielappreciationweek

Azriel had never belonged in his father's mansion. He never once believed he did. But he didn't belong in Illyria, either.

Though he was Illyrian, he always disapproved of their backward traditions, especially regarding females.

He had seen how his mother was treated; he knew what had happened to Cassian’s, and too many times during his training in Windhaven, he had to witness brutal clippings without being able to stop them.

How could he belong in such a place? A place where females were treated as little more than objects and breeding mares, where children were taught to fight as soon as they could walk and left to care for themselves in the mud and cold?

He had done horrible things—most of which to protect his family and court—and they still haunted him in his sleep at times. But he liked to think that he was at least better than the Illyrian brutes he had grown up among. That there were certain lines even he wouldn't cross.

Illyria was a beautiful land, with its snow-capped mountains and frozen lakes. It could be merciless and harsh, but that was nature. Its inhabitants, however, chose to be that way, and Azriel had long since lost faith in any change.

~~~~~~

He didn't belong in Rosehall, either.

He was always welcome there and visited as often as he could, but that was his mother’s house. He had bought it for her as soon as he had enough money.

It was her safe place, her haven, where she didn't have to worry about anything and where she wasn't anyone's servant. Azriel remembered the tears shining in her eyes the first time he brought her there, when the house was still empty and cold.

It had taken him a long time to convince her that she didn't need to worry about money. He worked directly for the High Lord now, and he was paid well enough for her to furnish the house however she liked.

She had still tried not to spend too much, but she had chosen each piece of furniture and decoration with attentive care. It was the first time she had a place she could call her own after centuries of living, and Azriel liked what she had done with it. The place was simple yet elegant, with cream-colored walls and wooden furniture. Colorful flowers bloomed on the windowsills, and paintings hung in the hallway and the living room. She had even made sure to have a bedroom for him, so he could stay as long as he wished.

But Azriel's favorite part of Rosehall was probably the delicious smell of food wafting through the rooms. Now that she no longer had to cook for domineering males, she had rediscovered her passion for cooking. Whether it was spices, freshly baked bread, or roasted meat, the smell never failed to make his mouth water.

Yes, Azriel enjoyed his time in Rosehall and tried to visit as often as he could, but it was still his mother’s house—not his.

~~~~~~

He belonged in the Inner Circle, he guessed. Though sometimes he felt like he didn't.

Azriel cared about Amren; after all, he had known her for centuries. But it was still Amren. How many times had it been just the two of them, spending time like normal friends? Once, maybe twice, and even then, their conversations had mostly revolved around Court matters. Sometimes he wondered if they would have ever approached each other at all if it hadn't been for Rhys bringing them together.

And then there was Mor. He had spent centuries quietly loving her, longing for something he could never have. He had long since stopped believing that her concerned glances and gentle touches meant anything beyond deep affection—sisterly affection. Yet he'd held on to those feelings even when they started to fade, because he had never known anything different. It was a twisted form of both protection and punishment: if he still loved her, then he wouldn't risk his heart being broken by another rejection. Yet knowing Mor would never feel the same, that she had her own lovers and relationships, was like being stabbed in the chest. He wasn't sure when it started to hurt a little less each time he thought about it.

With that pain easing, the resentment he'd carried buried deep down for most of his life began to fade as well. He never once held it against Cassian. He knew it wasn't his fault Mor had chosen him. Who would have chosen Azriel anyway? He wished things were different, but he didn't blame either of them. It still chafed, though. It was something he couldn't shake, like a shadow lingered on the edges of his heart, and it resurfaced whenever he saw Mor and Cassian together.

And his brother… Azriel loved him deeply, and he was grateful to have him in his life. But there was no denying how different they were, and sometimes it felt as if Cassian didn't really understand him. There was a rage inside Azriel, rarely rising to the surface but it was there, born the moment he'd seen his mother's fear in the presence of his father. That rage never left. It grew until Azriel had to learn how to contain it, to live with it, for the sake of the people around him and his own.

Cassian never really understood it. Rhys did, though. Azriel knew that if he pushed, Rhysand would match him. Yet his brother still tried to thaw and tame that icy rage he had grown so accustomed to, which was probably an honorable aim—if Azriel hadn't lived with it so long that he wasn't sure who he would be without it.

He loved his family deeply, and he knew they loved him back. But they didn't always understand him, and he often felt out of place among them.

~~~~~~

Velaris was his home, and he'd do anything to protect it. He tortured and killed for that very reason many times. But at the end of the day, the City of Starlight was just that—a city. No matter how beautiful or welcoming, it was too vast a place to call home.

He had never bothered buying an apartment or a town house for himself. Maybe he should have. But the House of Wind had always been enough, with its views and endless rooms. It was practical living there—there was the training ring, the hall where Rhys held court, and the library for when he wanted some quiet.

But the House of Wind belonged to Rhys. Now that he had given it as a mating present to Nesta and Cassian, it was theirs. They assured him he could still live there, that his room would always be his, but Azriel had preferred to move out. He had no interest in living there during their mating frenzy.

The townhouse and the river house belonged, once again, to Rhys and Feyre. They never made him feel like he owed them anything for staying there—Elain lived there too, after all—but Azriel longed for a place he could call his own. Yet the idea of buying an apartment had still felt too definitive. He had tried, but none of the places he'd seen made him want to own them.

He had almost given up hope of finding a place he could call home, but then he met you. And he realized, after five hundred years, that maybe home wasn't a place at all.

“Az?”

Your voice cut through his thoughts, bringing him back to the present, to the feel of you in his arms and your big eyes staring up at him.

“Baby, are you listening to me?”

Azriel blinked, slightly shaking his head to chase away the remnants of his past. He looked down at you, and his heart fluttered at the love shining in your eyes.

“Hi,” you said with a soft smile. Your hand came up to cup his face, the touch warm and familiar. “I lost you. Where did you go?”

“Sorry,” he breathed. “I was just thinking.”

You waited patiently, giving him the freedom to continue or return to your conversion. Embarrassment flooded Azriel as he realized he couldn't remember what you were talking about.

He held you imperceptibly tighter, trying to find the right words to convey what he felt.

“I never felt like I fit in anywhere,” he said eventually. His voice was quiet even in the silence of the room, and he struggled to keep his eyes open when all he wanted to do was lean into your touch. “I've been looking for where I belong for centuries.”

It came easy to voice those thoughts to you. You never judged. You listened, and then you gave your opinion or simply shared your own thoughts. You saw all of him, and you didn't run from it. You accepted him. You loved him.

Sometimes, Azriel still wondered if it was all a dream or if you were really a part of his life.

“And have you found it?” you murmured, your thumb brushing his cheek just below his eye.

Azriel nodded. “I found it.” He took your hand, gently removing it from his face to bring it closer to his mouth. He pressed a tender kiss to your palm, his lips lingering on your skin before he repeated the gesture with your fingertips. Your smile was soft as he murmured, “I found you.”

Your eyes, which had been following the movements of his lips, shot up to meet his. Even after a year together, he was still mesmerized by how you always wore your heart on your sleeve. It was so easy to read you, and right now, blended with your unconditional love, he could see curiosity and amusement playing on your features.

“Me?” you repeated, your voice a murmur.

Azriel nodded once more, letting go of your hand only to bring his own up to your cheek. “Yes, you, my love.” He rested his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he breathed in your scent. “It doesn’t matter where we are. You’re where I belong. You’re my home.”

Wherever you went, he would follow. If you woke up one day and told him you wanted to move to the Spring Court, or even to Vallahan far east on the continent, he would go with you. He would go with you to the end of the world if you asked.

He could feel your heart beating faster in your chest, and a playful smile appeared on your lips as you pulled back to look into his eyes. “So… is this the right moment to tell you that I wanted to ask you to move in?”

Azriel stared at you, eyes wide, a huge grin slowly spreading across his face. His arms tightened around you, and then you squealed in surprise as his hands found your backside and he picked you up. The sound was quickly swallowed by his lips crashing against yours, and you could do nothing but kiss him back and wrap your legs around his waist, careful not to brush against his wings.

You were both breathing slightly faster when Azriel pulled back, but he didn’t let you go. If anything, he held you tighter, as if worried you might disappear.

“I’ll take it that’s a yes?” you chuckled. Your fingers brushed the hair on the back of his neck, his wings rustling quietly at the sensation.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Of course it’s a yes, love.”

He didn’t care if your apartment wasn’t suited for an Illyrian, if he had to carefully maneuver his wings to avoid knocking things over. He had already spent so much time at your place that he was used to it by now. The thought of staying there permanently—of waking up with you in his arms every morning, of coming back after a long day knowing you’d be there too—filled him with so much joy that his heart could burst.

You beamed, and all Azriel wanted to do was to spin you around and never let you go. And so, he did, because nothing was stopping him. He was going to share a home with his love, and nothing had ever made him this happy before.

As he spun you around, you threw your head back and laughed joyfully, the sound echoing off the walls. Azriel’s laughter joined yours when he stilled, and then you were kissing him again.

After more than five hundred years, he finally knew where he belonged. And it wasn’t a place.

It was with you.

General taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @aaahhh0127 @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch

Azriel Week: @fourthwing4ever

[eternalguk]

can i get a drabble or lil oneshot where oc and jungkook are moving to a new house or planning a new one, renovation or layout and it turns into a fight but ends in fluff something warm please in this cold winter🩵🥹

Drabble 02 — IKEA Showrooms & Moody Nightclubs (Jungkook x reader)

Warnings ; swearing & two idiots

Masterlist

“Excuse me, what?!”

“I said, you’re acting like it’s just you moving in and not both of us!” Jungkook huffs, lifting up the last of the cardboard boxes and moving it out of the way before you trip over it… again.

“Am not! Your ideas are just stupid, Jungkook.” You retort, rolling your eyes as you stare at the tin of black paint before you.

You had strictly sent Jungkook to go and buy some paint for the main wall of the living area. Your instructions were very simple to follow really. Jungkook had to choose from either ‘magnolia’, ‘fine cream’, ‘milky pail’ or ‘vintage chandelier’.

“They’re really not, babe.” Jungkook shoots back. “You’re just going to make the house look like a fucking ice cream shop!”

Your boyfriend rolls his eyes, rethinking the decision of letting you take reign over the renovating process.

“You’re infuriating, I’m leaving.” You respond, anger carefully etched into every corner of your face.

“Where to? The bedroom that’s painted with ‘tranquil vanilla’.” Jungkook quotes with his fingers, chuckling at the names of these paints whilst simultaneously rolling his eyes.

“It’s ’summer linen’ actually, you’d know if you came with me.” You move to sit on the floor, opening the notebook to continue the never ending list of things you need for your new place.

It all started with a small disagreement. Well, small to you anyway.

The colour of the living room walls.

Jungkook was insisting that you go for a moodier colour palette, but you argued that black and grey everywhere would either look like his boring office or a fucking nightclub!

“I just want to feel calm, gukkie.” You pout, hoping it works in your favour like it usually does. “Black and grey… no calm.” You sniffle, wanting to take the acting even further.

“And I want to feel at home, not like I’ve been trapped in an Ikea showroom.” Jungkook joins you on the floor, mirroring your sniffle.

There was silence… for approximately thirty seconds.

Now, you could have been mature about it… but maturity? Nope! That had flown out the window just like Jungkook’s sanity when he decided to bring home black paint.

“You’re not helping, Jungkook.” You sigh, giving him a knowing look.

At this point, you’d really think Jungkook would know better.

“And you want everything to go your way!” He shouts, rolling his eyes for the umpteenth time that evening.

“My way makes more sense, Jungkook!” You assert, standing up and folding your arms as you stare down at him. “Stop making me out to be such a control freak.”

“Well, I mean-“

“Jeon Jeongguk!”

“Y/L/N Y/N!”

The two of you are now standing eye to eye. Brows furrowed, cheeks warm and huffing as loudly as possible.

As if on cue, you both burst out laughing, shaking your head at the immaturity.

Laughing with Jungkook was definitely the treasure of today. His laughter was your serenity because in those moments, you felt the most alive.

“I’m sorry,” you both mumble at the same time, eyes softening.

“I feel so excited about moving in together, I just want it all to be perfect.” Jungkook admits, pulling you into his arms.

Your heart drops instantly, moving forward to rest your heard against his welcoming chest. “You’re right,” you confess. “I got carried away, but I agree, this is meant to be a home for both of us.”

Jungkook gently pulls you back, looking down at you with his cocoa eyes full of love. “Summer chandelier doesn’t sound so bad,” he whispers, a teasing lilt lacing his tone.

You smile brightly. “It’s summer linen, baby.”

“Mhm?”

“Black decor would compliment it,” you cheekily snicker, earning a groan from him. “We can go to the IKEA showrooms you love so much.”

Jungkook wraps his arms around you tighter, engulfing you into a hug that weaves your souls closely together.

“No,” he says softly, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “We’ll go through your Pinterest board and recreate it.”

You laugh, nuzzling your nose against him. You knew that whether your home ends up looking like an ice cream shop or a nightclub, it would still feel like home. Because your home was right in front of you, swaying you in his arms.

Hope you enjoyed reading this 🫶🏻 it’s not my best, but I was able to quickly put something together to help distract me from the fact that I missed Jungkook’s live 🥺

[woodenstreet01]

Elegance Wall Paintings for Your Home: Transforming Your Living Room

The walls of your home are like blank canvases, waiting to be adorned with art and personality. Wall paintings have the unique ability to infuse life, character, and elegance into your living spaces. In this article, we will delve into the world of wall paintings, with a special focus on how these exquisite pieces of art can enhance your living room.

Wall Paintings: A Touch of Artistry

Wall paintings, also known as wall art, are a form of artistic expression that has been adorning human abodes for centuries. These masterpieces are not just decorations; they are powerful tools for conveying emotions, setting moods, and transforming the ambiance of your home. They come in various forms, including canvas art, framed prints, oil paintings, and more, each offering a unique charm.

Why Choose Wall Paintings for Your Living Room?

1. Aesthetic Elegance:

The living room is often the heart of a home, where families gather and guests are entertained. Wall paintings are a perfect way to add elegance and aesthetic appeal to this space. Whether you prefer classic or contemporary styles, there is a wall painting to match your living room's decor.

2. Personal Expression:

Your living room is a reflection of your personality and style. Wall paintings allow you to express your individuality, with options ranging from abstract art to nature-inspired themes, ensuring that your space is uniquely yours.

3. Creating a Focal Point:

An eye-catching wall painting can serve as a captivating focal point in your living room. It draws the attention of visitors, creating an engaging and memorable atmosphere.

Choosing the Right Wall Painting

Selecting the perfect wall painting for living room is an art in itself. Here are some considerations:

1. Size and Proportion:

The size of the painting should be proportionate to the wall it will grace. An oversized piece can dominate the room, while a small painting may get lost. Balance is key.

2. Color Palette:

Consider the existing color scheme of your living room. Wall paintings should complement the room's color palette, either by harmonizing with the existing tones or creating a striking contrast.

3. Style and Theme:

Choose a painting that aligns with your living room's overall style and theme. For traditional decor, classic art may be ideal, while contemporary spaces benefit from modern, abstract works.

4. Personal Connection:

Ultimately, select a painting that resonates with you on a personal level. Whether it evokes emotions or reminds you of cherished memories, a painting that connects with your heart will bring an added layer of meaning to your living room.

Conclusion

Wall paintings have the power to elevate the elegance and ambiance of your living room. They are more than mere decorations; they are artistic expressions that convey emotions, tell stories, and enrich your home. When carefully chosen and thoughtfully placed, wall paintings become an integral part of your living space, adding a touch of sophistication and style that is truly yours. So, don't hesitate to explore the world of wall paintings and discover how you can transform your living room into a masterpiece of elegance.

[graynvmbr]

Where Our Hearts Belong | Harry Potter

pairing: harry james potter x female!reader (no use of y/n)

summary: moving in with harry

word count: 1.2k

You and Harry apparated to the quaint cottage in Godric’s Hollow, a place you had fallen in love with months ago, your arms laden with a few essentials for your first night—a rolled-up mattress and some hastily packed boxes. The sun was setting, casting a warm golden glow over the small garden out front.

The two of you stood at the end of the garden path, fingers laced tightly together, staring up at the charming house that was now yours. Harry gave your hand a squeeze, his green eyes soft and full of excitement.

“It looks even better now, doesn’t it?” he murmured, a soft smile playing on his lips.

You nodded, your heart fluttering. “It does. It’s hard to believe it’s ours.”

In the golden hour, the house seemed to glow. Its ivy-covered brick, the overgrown front garden with a slightly crooked gate—it all looked like something out of a fairytale.

“You ready for this?” he asked, his voice tinged with excitement.

You grinned. “Ready.”

With one hand gripping the key, you walked together up the dirt path to the front door, setting down the boxes you were both carrying. Harry paused for a moment, looking down at you with a boyish grin.

“Wait—stop. Tradition.”

Before you could ask, he effortlessly scooped you up into his arms, cradling you in his arms and making you squeal in surprise and laugh.

You gasped and laughed, clinging to his neck. “Harry!”

“It’s our first home together,” he said, beaming. “I’m carrying you over the threshold.”

You giggled, throwing your arms around his neck as he juggled the keys, finally managing to unlock the door. With a nudge, he pushed it open, stepping inside with you still cradled in his arms.

“Welcome home, Mrs. Potter,” he whispered, carrying you across the threshold.

You buried your face in his neck, overwhelmed with a mix of joy and love. “It’s perfect,” you murmured against his skin.

He set you down gently onto the wooden floor, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, looking around. The cottage smelled faintly of old wood. It was still mostly empty, save for a few pieces of furniture the movers had dropped off earlier, but it already felt magical. A soft breeze came through the open windows, carrying the faint chirping of crickets.

After setting down your belongings, you wandered through the house together, inspecting every corner. The kitchen was cosy, with its charming old sink and a window that looked out onto the back garden. When you reached the bedroom, you both stood in the doorway, staring at the empty space that would soon hold so much of your life together. Harry pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your waist as you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I can see it already,” you said softly. “Our bed right there, the walls painted… maybe some curtains?”

Harry hummed in agreement, and leaned down to kiss you, his lips soft and lingering. “This is going to be amazing,” he said against your skin.

After, you both found yourselves in the kitchen, cobbling together a simple dinner of sandwiches and tea. Harry had insisted on making the tea, though it took him three tries to get the charm right on the old kettle.

“Hopeless in the kitchen,” you teased, watching as he poured the tea into mismatched mugs.

He smirked, handing you one. “You’re lucky I’m not hopeless in other areas.”

You raised an eyebrow, hiding your smile behind your mug. “Oh? Like what?”

Harry leaned in, his grin widening. “Like picking a wife.”

Your laughter echoed through the empty kitchen as you swatted his arm.

The two of you carried your tea and sandwiches to the living room, sitting on the wooden floor with your backs against the wall. The room was dimly lit by a single enchanted lamp you’d brought, casting a soft glow that made the space feel cosy despite its sparseness. The furniture wouldn’t arrive until the next day, but neither of you cared.

When the tea was finished, you unpacked the mattress and boxes, setting them up in the bedroom, before getting ready for bed.

In the bathroom, you shared the space comfortably, slipping into an easy rhythm. You brushed your teeth while Harry fussed with his unruly hair in the mirror.

“Are you sure you’re not going to scare me with that bedhead in the morning?” you teased around your toothbrush.

Harry chuckled, scrubbing at his hair with his hands. “If you can survive seven years at Hogwarts with me, you can survive my bedhead.”

“Fair point.”

When you finished brushing your teeth, you handed Harry his face wash, and he gave you a grateful smile. Sharing these simple, domestic tasks together felt intimate in a way you hadn’t expected.

Once ready for bed, you returned to the bedroom. Harry was already sitting cross-legged on the mattress, wearing his usual sleepwear—just boxers. You’d seen him shirtless countless times by now, but tonight, under the glow of the bedside lamp, something about the moment felt different.

He looked up as you walked in, his gaze softening as he took you in. You were wearing a lightweight pyjama set, the silky fabric clinging to your skin in a way that made his ears turn pink.

“You’re staring,” you teased, climbing onto the mattress.

Harry gave a sheepish smile, running a hand through his hair. “Can’t help it. You’re gorgeous.”

You leaned over to kiss his cheek. “So are you.”

The two of you settled under the blankets, shifting around until you found a comfortable position. You nestled into his side, your head resting on his chest as his arm wrapped around you. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, and you sighed contentedly. “This is nice,” you murmured, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his skin.

Harry pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “I could get used to this.”

“This doesn’t feel real,” you said softly, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his t-shirt. “Our house. Our first night here.”

Harry kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering against your hair. “I know. But it’s ours. Just the start of everything.”

The two of you lay there, talking softly about the future. Harry listened intently as you shared your dreams for the house—what colours you’d paint the walls, the garden you wanted to grow, and where you’d place the Christmas tree. His responses were warm and thoughtful, and he added his own ideas, making the plans truly feel like they were yours. At some point, your conversation shifted to dreams for your future together, and Harry’s voice turned soft, almost hesitant.

“Do you think we’ll always feel this way?” he asked.

You propped yourself up on your elbow, looking down at him with a smile. “What way?”

“Like… like this is the happiest we could ever be.”

Your heart swelled, and you leaned down to kiss him, your lips brushing his gently. “I think we’ll feel this way forever, Harry. And then, somehow, we’ll feel even happier.”

His green eyes searched yours, and he nodded. “I like the sound of that.”

The two of you drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, the cottage quiet around you, as if it, too, was settling into its new life.

back to my harry potter masterlist

[dilfstar]

daddy dearest

realdad!leon x daughter!reader 3k words. warnings ! incest, forced ddlg, infantilization, slight coercion, drugging, fingering, oral (f), piv, daddy kink, loss of virginity, creampie notes ! mega super awesome thank you 2 @localkiss for the idea and so much of this... wouldn't be able 2 do it without U i love u 🙏 ignore how fast the pills kicked in... just go w it ☹️

You were old enough to move out, get a job, live on your own, be an adult. But he had other plans. What kind of father would he be if he let his sweet, innocent daughter out into the cruel, harsh world? Where people could get you, men could grope you, ruin you! Just the thought of it made his skin crawl…

Leon made sure you stayed home, safe, and tucked away in your childhood bedroom. The walls were still painted in a light pink. Though, the decor was more reminiscent of a 5-year-old's room. Toys and coloring books were everywhere, with stuffed animals watching your every move. Yikes.

All of your old clothes were thrown out, too mature for his liking. What? Was he supposed to let his little girl wear next to nothing around the house? What if he had company over! His friends would eye-fuck you into the next century!

It wasn't like you didn't try to fight it or leave. You just couldn't. He put stuff in your food. You know he does. But how are you supposed to stop him when you can barely walk long enough to get to the bathroom on time? Your legs were turned into useless sticks from all the pills he snuck into your food!

He lived in some kind of delusion. Some made-up world where what he's doing to you was good for you, saving you. Fucking freak! You're his daughter! Not some random girl he met on the street, not some fucked-out whore he picked up from a bar. His child, his own flesh and blood. What kind of dad fucks their own daughter?

A good one! At least according to his definition of the term. A good dad should fuck his daughter’s brains out, leave her full of cum and barely conscious. It's his right. He deserves this after all the years taking care of you!

He didn't really care how you felt about the situation. Why would you be thinking about it in the first place? You're just his dumb little baby, too high to even eat on your own. You needed Daddy for everything. You needed him to feed you, change you into your cute little outfits, bathe you, fuck you until your body gave out. 

He ruined you. Leon took and took and took until you were nothing, just a doll for him to use and abuse with his twisted fantasies. He was a sick, sick man. A sick, twisted man you still loved. More than anything in the world. How could you possibly hate him? He's your daddy! He's just looking out for you.

It all happened so fast. Starting from a simple movie night with your dad. A few too many beers making you a little too needy, clinging to him like you did when you were little. The way you rested on him, used him as a pillow. Oh, it made his heart squeeze!

Your voice was so soft as you cuddled up to him, mumbling Daddy over and over. Leon raked his hands through your hair as you laid your head on his lap, so, so close to his dick. The way you wiggled around so much made it so difficult for him to keep it together. Such a tease, just like your mother.

Maybe that's why he loved you so much. You looked just like her, after all. Same hair, same nose, same lips… He needed you. He needed you so badly that it hurt. His cock ached, craving something warm around it. Something tight. Something perfect, like you.

You would be the best thing, right? I mean, you’re literally made just for him. Meant to be used as his personal fleshlight. The thought of any other guy touching you made him sick to his stomach. He deserved to be the only one! That's when it all clicked inside his head—the perfect plan coming together.

Leon carried you up to your old room, setting you down on the twin-sized bed like a princess, tucking you in with a gentle kiss on the lips. You tasted so sweet, like the strawberry chapstick you always put on. “My beautiful angel… All mine…”

He planted another kiss on your forehead before leaving, running down the stairs to the garage to get some boxes of your old toys and clothes. He had to get everything set up while you were asleep, so you could wake up to your (his) dream!

Your head was pounding the next morning, the sunlight coming in through the window not helping. The sudden attack of pink woke you up instantly. Every single inch of the room you were in looked like a little girl's dream come true. The number of stuffed animals and dolls around you made your eyes burn.

You looked down at the outfit you were wearing, a shocked gasp falling from your lips. What could've possibly happened last night for you to be wearing something straight out of a Justice catalog? In what world would you willingly put on something this childish? 

The door opened, revealing a smiling Leon carrying a tiny cup in his hand, a few pills in the other. “Hey, sweetheart… ’m glad you're awake. Was starting to get worried! Here, I brought you some medicine. Should help with your headache…” 

He handed them over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed as he watched you swallow the pills. His stare was focused directly on your body, as if he wanted to pounce on you and attack. It all felt so off, so nauseating. Why was your dad staring at you like a piece of meat? Why did you wake up to all of this?

The room started to spin, your vision blurring as your head hit the pillow behind you. Everything felt so hazy, like a fog rolled into the room, blocking all of it from your view. “Dad… Daddy… What’s happenin’...?”

Leon crawled over to you, pulling back the fluffy comforter, revealing your bare legs underneath. He had to bite back a groan; the sight of you, his daughter, so vulnerable made him feel crazy. His hands moved up your legs slowly, inching towards your inner thighs, pulling them apart to reveal the pink and white polka-dot panties covering your core. He leaned in, inhaling your scent like it was the antidote to an illness he'd been suffering from forever.

“Shh… Just rest… “Daddy's here.” He mumbled, his breathing shallow and fast. His fingers looped underneath the waistband of your panties, gently pulling them off and pocketing them. He needed something for later!

He poked and prodded at your cunt, smiling like a perv at how perfect you looked. The light touches, mixed with his soft breaths sent chills down your spine. Your hips bucked as he brushed against your clit, disgust immediately washing over you. Why was he touching you like this? Why did you like it?

“Need t’see if my girl is a virgin… Make sure she saved herself for me…” He placed his thumb on your clit, pressing down gently, groaning at the way you shuddered from the slight contact. This shouldn't be turning you on. He's your dad, for crying out loud!

He spit on your pussy, eyes twinkling as the glob of saliva dripped down your slit. His fingers moved down to your hole, mixing the spit with your juices as he pushed a digit in. He started with slow, simple movements, soon adding another finger, and then another. 

They moved inside of you so painfully slowly that you wanted to scream at him to move faster! But whatever he gave you earlier made your tongue feel so heavy, your arms and legs felt like 40-pound weights were tied to them. All you could do was let your dad tease you like some jerk.

“Seems like you did… You did so well… I think you deserve a reward, yeah?” He pulled his hand away, causing a small whimper to escape from you. He stared up at you so sweetly, as if you were a princess awakening from a years long slumber. 

Leon leaned down, immediately diving into you. His nose bumped against your clit as he ate you like a starved man at a buffet. His tongue thrust inside of you, lapping at your wetness like an animal. He groaned into your cunt, loving the way you tasted. If he was on death row and got offered his last meal? It would be you.

“‘m close… So close…” You whined, desperately trying to squeeze your legs around his head, still feeling too fuzzy to move a muscle. All you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and move your head, your body feeling too much like it was encased in cement. How were you already so sensitive? It’d barely been 5 minutes, and you were this close? 

The room felt like it was spinning again; all of your nerves felt like they were on fire. Pleasure shot up your spine, exploding in your head like a fireworks display. The word Daddy fell from your soft lips like a mantra. Your mouth could only form the one word, your brain filled with thoughts of him. Your breath hitched in your throat as you came, eyes shooting open and rolling to the back of your head. “S’too much… Too much! No more…”

He sat you on his lap like usual, grabbing a spoonful of whatever mushed-up food was on the pink plate in front of you, bringing it to your mouth while making airplane noises. Your mouth fell open like usual, allowing him to shove the head of the spoon in. He wasn’t a bad cook, no. He was just weird. Weird for making you act like a little girl at your age, weird for turning you into a toy.

You just wanted your old life back, when you had friends and other people to talk to. Acting like a kid wasn’t exactly the most fun thing a girl could do. Though you didn’t necessarily hate some of the attention he gave you. How fucked up is that? Liking the way your own dad touches you? What kind of sick freak acts like- Oh. I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.

He frowned at the way you denied the food, the dull look in your eyes. Why couldn't you just be good for him and eat it? Why did you always have to fight him on this? 

The plastic spoon hit the plate, food flying off it onto the table. His hand moved to your face impossibly fast, fingers digging into your cheeks, squeezing them together as he turned you to face him. “What did I say about acting bratty, hm? No treats for disobedient little girls.”

His grip on you was bruising, his nails digging into your skin, sure to leave crescent-shaped marks. The way he stared into your eyes terrified you. Anger hiding behind his blue irises. He was pissed. He was beyond pissed. Why couldn't you just listen?

“I told you not to do this again. Remember what happened last time? Y’wanna do that again? Sure seems like you do…” Your eyes widened as memories of that night flashed through your mind. The bruises he left all over, the red marks on your ass—how you couldn't sit properly for a week! The threat made you curl into yourself on his lap like a small child being yelled at for stealing from the cookie jar.

He released his grip on you, patting your cheek lightly with a sickly grin. Leon pulled down on your chin, opening your mouth enough to shove the spoon in again, making sure you swallowed the food. “Now, there's a good girl… So good for Daddy, yeah?”

He held onto your jaw as you ate, making sure you couldn't refuse him more. What kind of daughter disobeys their dad? Bad ones. What happens to bad daughters? They get punished.

His punishments were cruel, just meant to be pleasurable only to him. Spanking you with his belt, tying you to your bed, taking away your toys. His favorite was fucking you until you passed out! The way your eyes fluttered shut, how you went limp in his arms. God, he loved it. He loved how scared you were of him, the look of pure fear in your eyes was enough jack-off material to last for weeks!

His fingers curled inside of you, squeezing against the spot that made you see stars. Your head was spinning. Every inch of your body was on fire. “Daddy… I can't do any more… Please!!” You squealed, crushing his wrist between your thighs.

Your hands gripped the pink sheets beneath you for dear life, holding on as if you were about to fall off the side of a building. Bliss shot up your spine, filling you with a feeling of delight and pure disgust. All because of your dear, sweet father.

He smirked down at you, the sight of you writhing underneath him sent all the blood to his cock, the pajama pants he was wearing suddenly feeling a little too tight. “That's it… There's my girl… Y’think you're big enough to take me yet? Think you're ready for me, baby?”

Yes, God, yes! You wanted to scream it, let the world know you wanted to get fucked by your dad! But sadly, all you could do was nod. You looked like a stupid bobblehead toy, silently begging him to rail you into the next universe. None of it mattered when you had him, though. 

He chuckled at how enthusiastic you were, leaning forward to place a tender kiss on your lips, tongue rubbing against your bottom one, asking to be let in. You deepened the kiss, arms wrapping tightly around his neck, pulling him in close. His hand left your soaked cunt, wiping itself on his pants before moving to the back of your head. He slotted himself between your legs, rutting against your heat as he made out with you. 

His free hand snuck down to his pants, pushing them and his boxers down just enough to pull his dick out. Leon pulled back from the kiss to look down, smirking at how wet you were. He looked up at you for a moment, a sympathetic look in his blue eyes. “This is gonna hurt for sec… Promise I'll be as gentle as I can…” And with that, he slowly pushed in. His head fell at how wonderful you felt around him, like you were already shaped perfectly for his cock.

“S’okay… I’ve got you.” The stretch absolutely burned. It felt like you were in some medieval torture device. At least the drugs he had you doped up on dulled some of the pain…

He moved his hand back to your clit, thumb moving in small circles, trying to make it at least a little more pleasurable for you. He pushed and pushed, inching in slowly until he was buried to the hilt inside of you. His chest heaved as he caught his breath for a moment, the whole situation now overwhelming him. “I’m gonna move now, ‘kay?”

With a small, comforting smile, he pulled back, shoving into you all at once. His thrusts started slow as you adjusted to his size, trying to be careful with you, terrified to hurt you. How could he live with himself if he hurt you without meaning to? Punishments were one thing… But actually harming you? It’d kill him!

Once he fell into a nice rhythm, all rational thoughts flew out the window. The fear of hurting you was gone, he couldn't care less about it now. It was like a switch flipped inside his head. Your walls just squeezed him too perfectly, clamping down on him like a vice.

It all felt so perfect, like it finally made sense. The disgust that was in you melted away at the feeling of him pounding away at you, just using you for what he wanted. It sent your heart into overdrive, the organ beating against your ribcage. Your head dropped back onto the mountain of pillows behind you, cushioning it while you let your father take advantage of you.

He felt like a teenager again, like he did before he met your mother. She was a good fuck, sure, and he did love her, but it just never felt as good as this. Nothing could ever compare to you, to how you felt around him. The way your velvety walls hugged him so wonderfully made his heart flutter in his chest. 

“Daddy… Daddy! S’too much… Can't do it… I-I can't!” You whined, shaking your head from side to side like you were throwing a tantrum. You felt too sensitive, his touches too much for your body to handle. The coil inside of you felt like it was about to snap, like it was about to explode! You didn't know if you could last much longer, and neither did he. His pace got sloppy the closer he got, hips stuttering inside of you.

He finally stilled as thick, hot spurts of cum coated your walls, painting them in a milky white. You squeezed around him, cunt refusing to let him go. Your orgasm hit you like a wave, legs twitching around his waist, accidentally pulling him in impossibly closer. You whined involuntarily as he pulled out, feeling too empty inside without him. He almost came again at the sight of his cum dripping out of you, staining the sheet below. 

“You okay, baby? Are you hurtin’ anywhere?” He checked over you frantically, looking into your eyes like a madman. All you could do in return was give him a sloppy, fucked out smile. A smile that made all the worry in him dissolve. He crawled off the bed, snaking his arms around you bridal style, carrying you off to the bathroom. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”