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dwaekkicidal · 1 month ago

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Oh my god I beg for some mean skz smut 😔😔

hmmmm ok but what are we thinking for the hyung line?

is it about meanie channie who snaps after you slut yourself out in the studio when staff was in there- along with the rest of 3racha who you know has a little crush on you hehe. he barely waits for them to walk out the door before shoving you towards the door, forcing you to lock it before shoving his cock into you while you're pushed up against the door- mind you with minimum prep because "You don't deserve it. after that shit." his cock is soooo much thicker like this!!!! >.< and he manages to make his thrusts prove his anger? hips smacking into yours so harshly that it feels like the soundproof door isn't enough to drown any sounds out

what about brat tamer minho who forces you to sit between his legs and watch him jerk himself off? you have a pretty little vibrator thats connect to your clit and your g-spot simultaneously, and he has the controls on his phone that rests in his free hand. he fucks with the controls so much... maybe even teasing u by drawing his full name- in english AND korean- before setting it to the highest setting and leaving it like that until you're cumming at least 3 times.

my sweet binnie who's only mean if you beg him to be or if you reaaaaally push his buttons- maybe throw in a dig or two about how theres another man out there thats better than he is (spoiler: theres literally negative of them). your punishment (reward) is always the same! one of those those sexy ass arms around your neck and squeezing as he fucks into you so roughly that your whole body is jumping forward, your moans cutting off from how aggressive he gives it to you!!!

ok but what about lover boy hyunjin who is actually one of the meanest doms you have ever seen, 99% of the time it being unprompted as well??? the first time you push him to get rough in bed, you're in for ittt~ he ties your wrists up and connects you to the hook in the ceiling, leaving just enough rope for you to be on your tippy toes (also the same hook he previously told you was for painting... yeah, my fucking ass) and speaking of asses, yours is sooo sore from the big handed smacks he leaves there >< he'll always stop if you want it, but otherwise he has no plans to until you submit to him completely <3

whats on the menu for the maknaes today?

definitely munch hannie who ties you up with the most random shit that works- any ties he has laying around, your panties, and sometimes he'll straight up rip his shoelaces out for it?? but it's all so that he can show off the shibari he secretly learned- the main one being a series of knots that tie your arms to a leg each, forcing you wide open for him all the while he eats. and what a messy fucking eater!!! your last 3 orgasms worth of cum dripping down his jaw as he nibbles at your sensitive spots <3

"angel boy" felix me thinks.. who makes you fuck yourself onto him in doggy, refusing to put any effort because he's the "angel" who deserves to be worshipped (yes but...) if you falter even slightly or move to his disliking, you're getting a series of mean smacks- ones that leave a pretty little heart shape in its wake from the pretty pink paddle he insisted on buying (OR HIS INITIALS IF HE GETS A CUSTOM PADDLE OMFFF)

ohhhh but owner seungmin who fucks your brains out with a pretty little collar around your neck <3 (maybe even one also with his initials engraved hehe) he tugs at it to fuck you back onto him, not even need a leash when he slides his finger through one of the loops. huffs and puffs about how tight you are while he actively works to make you tighter, from squeezing your legs together to overstimulating the hell out of you all the while he disallows himself to cum for as long as he can handle, all so when he finally busts theres so much and its all getting fucked right back into you

and god... toy fiend jeongin... the second you let him know you're ok with toys being brought into the bedroom, you're almost regretting everything!!! he's SO fucked up about it >:( he keeps one of those big hands around your throat while the other slides a vibrator as deep into you as it physically can go without causing you pain... and when you squirm around and your legs squeeze together, he's either digging his fingers into your thigh to push them apart or he's biting whatever he's closest to- your thighs, your calf, your shoulder, or (his favorite) your nipples <3

hnnnnng....

Taglist (red=can’t be tagged):

@valkyriexo @lunearta @jabmastersupriseee @rylea08

@yaorzu-blog @amararosesblog @jiminssluttyminx @clemissleepy

@miss-daisy04 @kittyxnoa @dwaekkiiracha @bubblerizz

@mariteez @fun-fanfics @honeyybbuubblleess @kittycatkrissa

@nicora04 @chuuyaobsessed @moonlightndaydreams

@aeri-skzver

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postmortemnivis · 10 months ago

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no grave can hold my body down, i'll crawl home to her.

simon really meant it, every bit of it, he’d come back to you somehow. he would find his way back to you. wether it was walking through the front door quietly not to wake you up in the middle of the night or cold in a coffin. he’d rather have you hold his dead body than not to have you touch his skin ever again.

that’s what simon was thinking about as his ear ringed so loud he couldn’t focus on his surroundings. he looked up at the sky, so blue it almost didn’t feel right. why so blue when so much blood was being shed?

he occasionally would feel the ground he was laying on tremble, maybe a hand grenade, maybe a body falling next to his. the smell of gunpowder filled his covered nostrils and he could feel his lungs collapsing on themselves from the thickness of the air he was breathing. his eyes weren’t doing good either, filled with dust and sand from the dry earth.

it took him a few more seconds to focus his eyes on something, something that possibly wasn’t moving, his head spinning each time he tried to sit up. something was weighting on his legs, holding him down. he struggled to raise his torso and groaned at the sight of a large body blocking him. he let himself fall back down.

he was ready to go, a sharp pain to his side telling him he wouldn’t last long alone. he’d been through worse, way worse, the scar provided by the meat hook was proof of that, but something was telling him this was as bad. he was ready to go.

the only thing he could think about in his last moments was you. he thought he could see glimpses of you, maybe your hair in the corner of his eyes or he’d hear your laugh as another fire shooting started. his eyes searched for you frantically. he wanted to tell you to leave immediately, scream it at the top of his lungs, but his voice was caught in his throat and you weren’t really there. his mind just playing cruel tricks on him.

your name was repeated like a mantra in his head, repeating it so many times it almost lost a meaning. almost. a prayer, a chant. he sure needed to pray, for you.

he had been shelving the thought that tormented him for months. he wanted to go and confess his sins, he almost felt the need, his palms itching with haste anytime he thought about it. years had passed since the last time he had set foot in a church, so many that he had almost forgotten the reason for the visit. the ghosts of the past never abandon you, especially if they are people you love, especially if they are family, the innocent. its always the innocent who pay the highest price.

‘i wonder what she’s doing now, who’s gonna knock on her door and tell her im gone.’ he thought. ‘hopefully price. he’s the one with tact and the most considerate. he’ll help her when i’m gone, keep an eye on her.’

the sweet smell of your hair replaced for a moment the one of blood and gunpowder, your laughter still echoing in his ears. he pictured your sweet face and big innocent eyes looking up at him.

“promise me something?”

“mhm?” he hummed, surprised you were still up. his hand hadn’t stopped caressing your hair since you laid down on his chest, your hand resting on his collarbone as your ear listened to his calm heartbeat. “yeah, anything.”

“promise me you’ll always come back.” you whispered in the dark room. “promise me, simon.”

he nodded, taken aback by your request. you weren’t the fondest of his job, he knew it, he hated to concern you like he did.

“yes.”

“promise.” you urged. “please.”

he bent his head down and kissed the top of yours, his arm sliding down your back and drawing you closer by your waist. “i will, love. i’ll always come back to you.”

you sighed, the knot of thoughts in your worried head began to untie. “mh.”

“better now?” he softly asked. his voice was hoarse from his constant shouting orders at the obstreperous recruits. you gave a short nod. “i mean it.”

he groaned as he managed to get the body off of himself, struggling to get on his knees.

fucks sake, he couldn’t let you live with him gone like this. it was selfish of him to leave you in such an abrupt way, really. he tried to push away the image of you opening the door to find price with a carton box filled with simons stuff from the barracks with the balaclava and skull mask on top and your knees hitting the floor before he could even say anything.

his legs didn’t feel like they could hold his weight up, he immediately fell to his knees as he heard another rapid fire too near him for his liking. his gun was long gone, he had to manage to survive alone, again.

“crawlin’ it is.” he breathed as he started to drag his tired body with the strength of his arms alone. you had always praised his strength: he could lift you with one arm alone, you loved to be held and hold on to his arm anywhere and at anytime. that was the main reason he always pushed for more while training, and the motivation your sweet compliments always gave him now were gonna save his life. he made a mental note to kiss and hold you a little longer and tighter if he ever made it home alive.

he could see the building his team was supposed to meet up in case things got bad. it looked so far away that it was alarmingly close. maybe it was just his messed up vision, a mirage, but he could swear he saw you from a window looking at him, urgently motioning him to come.

he brought the thick balaclava above his nose so he could breathe better and as enemy gunfire continued to flow, he kept his head low as he moved dead bodies from his way.

he could hear your voice calling for him and he wanted to call you for you back, but the noises of the battlefield were hurrying him to get to the safe zone first.

he stumbled by the door as he brought himself up, one hand stabilizing him as he held on to the doorframe as the other went to press on his wound.

“lt!” johnnys voice called before he rushed to help him. “ye cheeky bastard, i told them not to leave yet, to wait for ye.”

“gaz saw you get shot.” price swung simon’s arm over his shoulder in order to help him to the nearest table, where he laid down.

“he saw that right.” simon bit the inside of his cheek as price inspected his wound, pressing on it. “is he a‘ight?”

“he’s fine, hit his head but had his helmet on, he’s getting checked out by the medics.” price informed him as simon winced at the sharp pain. “there’s at least two bullets in here, didn’t pass through, stuck.”

“just take ‘em the fuck out.” simon groaned. “how’s it lookin’?”

“you’ll live.” price patted his shoulder in comfort before he went to call a medic.

“we really thought we’d lost ye there, lt.” johnny’s face was glowing with sweat and blood, the black war paint smudged messily all around his face and his mohawk dusted.

“helicopter’s leaving in thirty, boys!” price’s baritone voice called from the other room.

simon scoffed, sighing and closing his eyes, finally letting himself relax as your figure started to fade from the corner of the room where it’d been standing, silently looking at him. “won’t lose me, can’t wait to go home, johnny.”

#simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simons a loverboy at heart #simon is not ghost

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monstersholygrail · 4 months ago

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Puppy bf being a good boy and waiting by the door when you come home from work, his cock already nice and hard. Waiting impatiently he wags his tail so hard it smacks against the wall. Whining about how badly he needs you.

Sending even the slightest signal he’ll be on you before you can blink, his snout nuzzling against your nose as he crowds you against the door so that you can feel the straining bulge in his pants. His hips move on their own as they automatically start grinding against your clothed core.

You protest, trying to at least go to the bedroom, but as soon as your bf gets a whiff of your arousal he’s done for. His nails catching on your clothes and tears them off in one single jerk of his arm. His quickly following.

You cry out, trying to cover yourself up before his hand pins both your wrists above your head. You look at him in shock and he immediately whimpers, bowing his head to you as his hard cock now rocks into your exposed folds. Wanting to be good even as his need consumes him and your arousal drips down onto his length.

“Don’t I deserve your pretty pussy? Haven’t I been good for you?“

His free hand slowly begins to trail down your body, not being able to help but grab fist fulls of your flesh on the way down. You moan softly, head rolling back against the door as he continues his journey until he’s cupping your cunt in his hand. Fingers cheekily running through your glistening folds.

“Y-yes,” you stutter, barely able to talk. Your bf whines louder and dips his fingers inside you just enough to have you jerking in his arms before they leave to swirl around your clit.

“Then please let me fuck you. I’ll do anything! I’ll lick you raw, I’ll make you cum till you pass out, I’ll make you feel better than you ever have before.”

You both know he was going to do all that anyway, but at the desperation in his eyes you know you can’t deny him any longer. And you can’t deny yourself either. Today was stressful and all you want right now is for your bf to pound into you until you’re seeing stars.

All it takes is you hooking your leg around your bf’s waist and his eyes brighten, immediately understanding your signal. Before you can even blink he’s thrusting inside you and he doesn’t stop to let you adjust.

Grunts and moans ring throughout your home and you’re more than certain all the neighbors can hear your bf fucking into you with reckless abandon. The door rattling on its hinges from the sheer power of his cock plunging into your wet heat.

Your bf whines lowly in your ear, nuzzling into the fold of your neck. Slowly turning to a puddle now that he can feel your squishy body back against his and his cock back inside of you.

“Why won’t you touch me? P-please, need your touch. Been forever, do you even love me anymore?” He whines dramatically.

He starts fucking up into you even harder. As if trying to remind you of the sensations that only he’s ever been able to bring out of you. You pant heavily, your eyes clouded with lust to the point you can barely think straight either.

“Baby, you got my hands.”

Your bf looks up and sees his claws still trapping your wrists against the door. His cheeks blaze with pink and he lets you go before hiding into your neck, rocking his hips so his pelvis grinds against your pussy in a silent apology. Your jaw drops, pussy clenching around him and he growls until your hands claw down his back and he calms down.

His length still sliding along your walls at a punishing pace, bringing you closer and closer your release. It’s as if he can sense it, grinding harder against your clit. Wanting to feel you milking his dick more than anything.

“Waited so long for you, to feel your tight pussy sucking my cock back inside you. Felt like years. Missed you so much,” he whimpers, rutting into you furiously like he doesn’t want to leave your cunt for a second.

“I’m right here. Not going anywhere,” you whisper breathlessly in his ear.

With one more thrust you’re coming so hard on his cock that your ears ring. Your pussy clenching down so tightly on his length that he instantly cums right after you. Satisfied growls leaving his chest as you two help work each other through your climaxes.

You sag against him and his hands tighten on your hips, insistent on keeping you close. And he does as he helps take you to your room where he plans to make sure you don’t go anywhere as you’ll be too busy writhing on his thick tongue.

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eideticmemory · 4 months ago

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ONLY ON CAMERA | MATTHEW GRAY GUBLER

Matthew convinces you to film a sex tape but it really doesn’t take a whole lot of convincing.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warning/Includes: Literal porn 😭 dedicated to and inspired by these gifs.

“Is it on?” you ask, tilting your head to get a good look at the clunky thing. Your eyes follow the camera back and forth, back and forth, only for Matthew to set it down in the exact spot he started.

“Yeah it’s on,” he nods, though he doesn't look at you directly. He steadies the camcorder on its tripod, instead watching you on the tiny screen. You’re wearing this dress that he’s decided must be captured on film. Memorialized. It cuts off at your thighs and the fabric is so thin that your nipples are flashing headlights. It’s off white, sheer. He would marry you in it. He would fuck you in it. And above all, what makes it so intoxicating is that you’re clearly oblivious to just how good you look. Casually propped on his bed, knees bent underneath your body, a small pout on your lips. He can’t help but break a smile, telling you, “You look so beautiful.”

Then suddenly, you’re not so oblivious anymore. Suddenly, you’re very conscious that you’re being recorded. Being watched. And so you blush, your lips curling up a shy smile. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” Matthew breathes out and he licks his lips like a dog. “Such a pretty little dress.”

“Oh, this old thing?” you giggle and it sends a rush of blood to his dick. “You like it?”

“Mmmhmmm,” he hums, zooming in on your chest, panning down your body. “Show me your legs.”

Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you take a proper seat on the bed, your legs dangling over the edge. Bashful, you watch Matthew focus the lens on your swaying feet, trailing up to your knees, zooming in on your thighs.

“I feel silly,” you tell him.

“No, baby, you’re doing so good,” he whispers, the camera now angled in on your face. Your wide and innocent eyes peering up at him. “You’re a natural.”

You smile and he captures the white in your teeth, the crinkle in your cheeks. He lingers over your collarbones, watches the air move in and out of your chest. Pushing your breasts up and down and up and down.

“Can you pull your dress up a little bit?” he murmurs, the camera slowly panning to your hips.

“Mhm,” you nod and hook your fingers underneath the hem. You push the fabric up your thighs and he stops you.

“Slower,” he watches. “Slower.”

So you slow down, inching the dress up bit by bit. You can feel the cold air pooling between your thighs, circulating over your panties. His breath catches in his throat at the sight and it’s the first time he looks at you. Not through the lens, not pictured on a tiny screen, but directly at you. Your eyes meet and it makes you so nervous that you stop what you’re doing entirely.

“You’re doing good,” he repeats. “You’re doing so good, baby. Take those off for me,” his eyes flicker between your legs. But only for a moment and then he’s looking at your pretty face. He can’t get enough of that pretty, pretty face.

“These?” you take hold of your panties, just to be sure.

“Mhm,” he nods. Again, licking his lips. He can’t help it, staring at you with his jaw agape. It makes his mouth quite dry. “Slowly.”

You duck your head as you push the seamless garment down your thighs, lifting yourself just enough that they move to your legs. “Slow down,” he says as they near your knees. “Oh yes, just like that. That’s perfect.”

They fall from your feet and Matthew pans the camera from the floor to your thighs, which you have spread just enough to leave something to the imagination. You look up at him as he zooms out, centering you in the frame.

“Should I…take my dress off, too?” you ask, so casually push one strap off your shoulder but he reacts like a victorian man who’s just seen an ankle. Sucking in a quick breath, exhaling it slowly.

“No,” he shakes his head. He flips the tiny screen around and finally - finally - he steps from behind the camera. Your heart rate increases quickly, suddenly, your eyes growing wide as he towers over you. “No, let’s keep the dress on.”

You nod. You say, “Okay,”and watch aimlessly as he kneels down in front of you. “Oh my,” you smile down at him.

He chuckles quietly, his hands planted at your side. “Give me a kiss,” he whispers to you and his mouth is already open and waiting. Begging.

So you ease your hands into his hair and lean in, gently planting your lips on his. His moan is almost immediate, vibrating against your teeth. “Come closer,” he says into your mouth and you submissively scoot down the bed, your knees locked under his arms. “Mhm,” he hums, sliding his tongue into your mouth. “Right there, that’s where I want you,” and his hands find their way underneath your dress, his clammy palms against your thighs.

You shudder, you don’t mean to, but you shudder under his touch and it’s so visceral that you have to laugh at yourself. You feel his smile mirrored against your lips.

“What are you being so shy for, hm?” Still, those hands underneath your dress. His teeth grazing your neck. Sinking into your collarbone.

“I’m not,” you run your hands down his chest. “I’m not,” you insist but you’re anxious as you undo the buttons on his shirt. You can feel his eyes lingering on your face and you avoid making contact, exhale a shaky breath as you push the clothing from his shoulders. Your hands run over his bare skin and his eyes roll to the back of his head, his neck croning back as you grab at his throat.

His mouth lands on yours as if pulled by a magnetic force, open and slimy, his hands gripping your waist. You take a strong hold of his face, etching fingerprints into his jaw, clawing at him just to keep him close. Your hands travel over his shoulders and down his back. You can feel the goosebumps on his spine. He releases the softest moan into your mouth and when he pulls himself away from you, your lips are soaked and dripping, begging to stay connected. He drops his jaw so you can spit in his mouth and you’re shy about it, but not too shy to do it. He swallows it and he smiles up at you because he knows that looked good on camera.

He sits back and it all happens so fast that when he grips onto your thighs, pulls you towards his face, all you can say is, “Oh!” And when he puts your pussy in the warmth of his mouth, it’s more like an “Ohhh.”

You nearly collapse on the bed but you brace yourself with your arm, your other hand grabbing a fistful of his hair. Matthew’s not holding back. A little bit of spit and a few swipes of his tongue and then he’s sucking on your clit, burying his face in you, starving. You squeal, the pleasure pulsing through your entire body, kicking out at the tip of your toes. You thrash against him, your legs wrap almost completely around his head but his grip on you is so tight. You’re not going anywhere.

And it’s the sounds you make that urge him on, the helplessness in your voice as he devours you, works his tongue on you, holds your firm against his mouth. You can’t stop your body from twitching. One jolt and you worry you’ll pull his hair out from the scalp but he doesn’t mind. Your hand lands on his shoulder quite harshly, a loud slap echoing throughout the room and he actually moans, grips onto you tighter as you dig your nails into his skin.

You tap him, quickly, harder than you mean to, his skin turning bright red at the force. Quivering, you whimper, “M-Matthew…fuck. Matthew.”

“Mhmmmm,” he responds, grunting as your thighs latch around his face, the sudden and deadly grip you take of his hair. The pitch in your voice rises. The subtle arch in your back rises. You call out to him again and again. And he pulls away.

You feel the loss immediately. You whine, looking down to meet his eyes and he’s grinning at you, drooling all over your thighs. He holds your wrist in his fist, planting sloppy kisses up your arm. “Should I stop?” he asks.

And you giggle. You giggle and lean into him and it’s so infectious that the both of you descend into giddy laughter. He smiles into another kiss with you, exhaling slowly as you taste yourself on his lips. You lean back, spread your legs, and watch him take hold of your thighs once again.

“I thought so,” he says and then he’s back at it.

Your body has no more fight left in it. Once Matthew starts, just slowly moving his tongue in circles, you feel the pressure building immediately. You bite down on your lip, give him a quiet, “Mhm,” and throw your head back. As you straighten yourself back up, you come face to face with the camera. You remember its presence in the room. You can see yourself trapped in the little screen in front of you. And once you see yourself, you can’t stop watching.

You run your hands down Matthew’s back, watching. Your jaw drops and your eyes get hooded but still, you’re watching. Directly to the camera, you say, “I’m gonna come.” It’s weird watching the words form in your mouth but you can’t stop them. Weird that Matthew has no idea you’re doing it, but you know it’s exactly what he’d want. “I’m gonna come, baby.”

He digs his nails into the flesh of your hips, his tongue quickening in pace, his mouth open and ready. Underneath your constant noise, he’s humming in delight, sending vibrations through your spine. You watch yourself come undone, watch the life leave your body, the way your arms struggle to hold you up any longer. And when you finally reach your peak, you give Matthew one big, loud moan as you collapse on the mattress, squeezing his head between your thighs.

Your legs get tangled and twisted, thrashing against his face but he pins your hips down, sucks you dry. You whimper, you push at his head, pull at his hair. But he doesn’t stop until he’s ready and he kisses all over your limp body. Kisses your belly through the fabric of your dress. Gropes your breasts, feels the sweat all over your skin. When he finally reaches your lips, you kiss him back as much as you can through your heavy breathing and you punctuate it with a smile.

“You still with me?” he touches your face.

You sigh softly, melting into his palm, poking your tongue out to lick his thumb. “I��m with you.”

“Good,” he kisses you. “Good. That’s my girl.” He stands up and begins to undo his pants, your eyes shamelessly focused on his crotch. His eyes are targeting your pretty, pretty face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m not,” you avert your eyes, chuckling. “I’m not looking at you,” you tell him, looking away while he climbs in bed beside you. “I’m not-ah!” you exclaim, suddenly pulled into his arms.

He perches you in his lap, your legs hanging off the bed, your hands planted on his thighs to keep you in place. His arm is wrapped tight around your waist, his other hand holding your face, turning you towards him so he can kiss you. And kiss you and kiss you. Nibbling softly on his shoulder, your eyes meet on screen and he gives you a smile. “Look at you up there,” he cooes and you chuckle, innocently grinding your hips on his cock. His breath hitches in his throat, his hand slowly running down your chest and your tummy. “God, look at you.”

He releases you just enough so you can sit properly, his cock sliding into you, stretching you out so perfectly that your head falls back on his shoulder. Still, he watches you, he drinks you in, breathing heavily into your ear. “You alright?” he whispers.

“Yes,” you breathe out, slowly rocking your hips. “Oh god, yes.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you squeak. “F-fuck.”

“Oh, baby,” he moans. “That’s it,” his hand wraps around your throat. “Look at the camera,” he orders and you can see him smiling the moment you do.

“There she is,” he whispers, cut off by a deep groan. “There’s my pretty girl. Hi.”

“Hi,” you pant, your hips increasing in speed, your legs buckling underneath you. You dig your nails into his skin, your strength depleting by the second. Still, you pick up the pace, watching how the ecstasy spreads across his face.

“Mhm,” he nods, tightening his hand around your throat, just a bit. “Mhm,” he whimpers. “Mhm, mhm. Oh, fuck.”

You reach back and take hold of his hair, the sweat sealing your bodies together so closely that you think you may never separate. You never want to. Your back arches against his body and he pulls you back in, bucks his hips into yours without much thought.

“Oh, baby, you’re amazing. You’re so fucking incredible. Fuck,” the praises flow out of him like he just can’t stop. He nibbles on your face and the bass of his moans sends shivers down your spine. Almost as casually, he starts to rub your clit. You cry out, instantly overstimulated, trembling so hard that you nearly fall from his lap but his arm is locked around you. “Mm-mm, you’re okay,” he rubs you softly. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you. Give me a kiss.”

You try. You do, but your mouth is wide open so instead his tongue wrestles with yours, he chews on your bottom lip. You grip onto his wrist, whimpering into his mouth. He takes the opportunity to rub you faster, harder, putting pressure on that one spot that makes you clamp your thighs shut. You grind your teeth together but the force is too much and all the air in your lungs is coming out in cries. Loud and uncontrollable, punctuated with a weak, “M-Matthew…mm, Matthew…”

“Yeah, baby?” and he laughs when your head rolls back. He kisses your shoulder, “You gonna come for me again?”

“Mhm. Yes. Yes,” it comes out like a mantra. “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Show me,” he begs. “Show the camera. C’mon, show that pretty face.”

You sit up, making eye contact with him very briefly before you look into the camera lense, keeping the rhythm in your hips, grinding yourself against his hand. “Mm…” you whine. “Oh…I-I’m…”

“I know,” he says, cradling your face, concentrating on stimulating your clit. Watching you fall apart on screen. “I know, it’s okay. Let it out.”

You claw at his wrist, you do your best to maintain eye contact with the camera, encouraged by the way he’s watching you. Rubbing you, holding you by your throat. He feels your thighs tighten around his hand and he grunts, “Almost, baby. C’mon. Mhm, c’mon.”

Your moans come out through gritted teeth, your eyes screwed shut, your hips on autopilot. When your legs scrunch up into your body, he keeps you steady, he keeps the motion going, watching, waiting. And he keeps talking to you, “Mhm, that’s it. Just like that. Oh, let it out, baby. Give it to me,” he pleads. “Give it to me.”

You would’ve said his name again but he touches you just right, plunges into you just right and you come so hard that you forget how to speak. Nothing but a loud and deep cry, accompanied by the uncontrollable tremors that thrash through your body. Your legs kicking and kicking, your thighs crushing his hand that continues to rub you. He only stops because you fall back, out of his arms, onto the bed and then he’s laughing.

“Always drama with you, pretty lady,” he chuckles, letting you fall onto the mattress. This angle simply just won’t work so he grabs you and pulls you towards him, your side profile now fully displayed in front of the camera. “You okay?” he asks, his thumb touching your lips.

“Mhm,” you nod with two of his fingers in your mouth. You grab his wrist and then his elbow and taking the hint, he climbs on top of you with a messy kiss. He hooks your legs over his shoulders and when you put your hands on his face, refusing to let him break away, he puts his cock inside of you and the pressure makes you gasp. “Oh, fuck. You feel so good,” and it’s evident in the way he starts to pound you. Like it’s consuming him. “Oh my god.”

He buries his face in your neck and you have a good view of your feets flying around in the air. The headboard smacking into the wall. As he begins to kiss all over your jaw, you moan and look over at the camera. You flash it with a great big smile, your arms wrapped tight around Matthew’s shoulders, the dirty sounds of his echoing around your skull.

“Fuck, baby, I’m so close.”

“Yeah, my love?” you run your hand through his hair.

He props himself up, boxing you in between his arms so he can stare at you. You touch his chest and you can feel his breathing nearly stop. “Mhm,” he whimpers, nuzzling his nose into yours. “Just keep looking at me. Look at me, baby.”

And you give him the same smile you’d given the camera, so big and bright that he can’t help but smile in return. “Yes, pretty girl. Just like that,” and he inches closer to you, the rough movement in his hips getting sloppier, jagged. “Oh [y/n], baby,” he moans. “I’m gonna come. Oh, you’re so good. You’re so good. Fuck.”

You reach for him, you want to hold him but he pulls back, pulls his cock out of you and looks you in the eye as he makes a big mess on your stomach. You can’t tear your eyes away from him but you feel the warmth soaking through your rumpled clothes and your jaw drops in shock. Panting, you watch his head roll back and his mouth wide open while he groans, his hand tugging at his leaky cock.

You huff and look down at your body, exclaiming, “My dress!”

His face, beating bright red, looks you up and down and all he has to say for himself is, “Oopsie?”

You kick him gently and he cackles, pushing your leg out of the way so he can lay on top of you, kiss you. And kiss you. And kiss you. He grins as he turns his attention back to the camera, “Well. Take a bow.”

You giggle and, as much as you can while trapped underneath him, you sway your arm dramatically. That’s all the bow you can muster. He kisses your cheek and the camera keeps rolling. It captures at least another fifteen minutes of nothing but you, Matthew, your dress and your mouths. Constantly connected.

#mine #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #Spotify

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fishsfailureson · 9 months ago

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"What is to come"

(image id is both in the alt text and below the read more- I put it under one because it's incredibly long)

And so there we have it, the 200+ followers artpiece that I have been working on for several days, if I had to guess I'd say it took 25 or so hours over eleven days. Honestly it's so surreal to me that I'm here with over 200 followers (260 as of typing this- yes, I procrastinated on this), especially when I only hit 100 followers in February. It's genuinely really nice to know that people are actually interested in my art (before anyone brings up spam bots- I know there are a few of them amongst my followers but I've checked most of them and I am 100% confident that over 200 of them are real). I don't really have much else to say really- I'm just grateful to have the support. Thanks y'all :).

[Image id: a large, lineless digital drawing of several dinosaurs. It is nighttime. At the bottom of the piece, a lone Eoraptor lunensis is walking across the floodplains- both the ground and the Eoraptor are just silhouettes, the early dinosaur has been given protofeathers. The full moon is shining, it's size is exaggerated for artistic affect. Behind the moon, the heads of sixteen different dinosaurs can be seen (listed left to right, bottom to top) Row 1- Thecodontosaurus antiquus (small sauropodomorph with light brown protofeathers, near-white undersides, straight stripes that are moderately darker than the base colour and vibrant green eyes), Coelophysis bauri (small early theropod with a long and narrow skull, its protofeathers are golden and black. A soft orange stripe runs across the back of its head, it has warm brown eyes. Row 2- Plateosaurus trossingensis (long-necked sauropodomorph, it has reddish-brown scales, light undersides, triangular stripes running down it's spine that get bigger the further down they get and pale yellow eyes), Heterodontosaurus tuckii (small ornithopod with a hooked grey beak. It has spiky green feathers, a lighter chest and a darker stripe running along its head and back, there are three small spots on its face, two behind the eye and one infront of it, it's eyes are bright yellow). Row 3- Megalosaurus bucklandii (medium-sized theropod with warm brown feathers, lighter undersides, dark spots and bright yellow eyes, there are several scars on its face), Brachiosaurus altithorax (greenish-grey true sauropod with lighter undersides, a dark pink patch on its throat, dark desaturated brown eyes and a few small scars on its neck), Archaeopteryx (early toothed bird with a black head, white neck and bright yellow eyes). Row 4- Hylaeosaurus armatus (pale brown ankylosaur with lighter undersides and vibrant green eyes), Velociraptor mongoliensis (dromaeosaur with light brown feathers, a lighter chest, a black stripe near its eye and light green eyes), Sinosauropteryx prima (small compsognathid theropod with ginger protofeathers, an off white mask and undersides and pale yellow eyes), Iguanodon bernissartensis (large greenish-grey ornithopod with a slightly darker back, pale undersides, a grey beak, and yellow eyes). Row 5- Matuku otagoense (heron with medium grey feathers and a small crest. A red stripe runs from just behind its nostrils to about a third of the way down its neck. Its undersides are white, its beak is grey and its eyes are brown), Triceratops prorsus (three-horned ceratopsian with grey-brown scales, lighter undersides, two triangular stripes between it's brow and nasal horns, reddish-orange diamond-like stripes on its frill, a hooked grey beak and golden eyes. Its brow horns curve forward at the base. Row 6- North Island brown kiwi (plump brown bird with a long pale beak, whiskers and black eyes, its nostrils are at the tip of its bill, and unlike the other dinosaurs in the sky part of its body below the neck is visible), male house sparrow (small redish-brown and grey bird with a black bib below it's bill), it has brown eyes and a dark grey bill. Row 7- rock dove (grey bird with iridescent green feathers scattered across its neck, a dark grey beak, and warm brown eyes). end id]

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pasukiyo · 6 months ago

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RIDE EM', COWGIRL

tyler owens x f!reader word count: 1,168 warnings: SMUT! tornado sex?, riding, masturbation (both m & f), very sloppy writing, i was just horny after watching twisters okay lol synopsis: it's like he always says, you don't face your fears, you ride em' cowgirl...

“You take it so fuckin’ well, fuck!”

Rain pounds against the windows of the truck along with quarter to ping pong sized hail but she rides Tyler faster, his cock pounding faster against her cervix than the little balls of ice that strike the steel of the truck. Her fingernails etch hooks into his shoulders, reminiscent of the hook echo in the supercell on the radar behind her. His palms knead at her hips, guiding her up and down his length, her walls clenching around him.

“It’s headin’ east!” Boone’s voice emits from the comms and her hips slow, but Tyler’s hands tighten around them, heaving her up and down his cock himself. Her eyes roll and her head lolls, a string of curses tumbling past her lips.

“Come on, baby, almost fuckin’ there,” he mutters beneath his breath like it’s sacred prayer, canting his hips towards hers, bringing her within inches of her end.

“Tyler, shit!” She gasps, sinking her nails further into his skin, deep enough to draw blood. “Slow down! I can’t… I can’t fucking take it…”

He shakes his head, a low rumble thundering deep in his chest like a crack of lightning. “Yes you can, come on,” he groans. “You do so well, takin' my cock so damn good.”

“Tyler, the hell you doing? We got a vortex on the ground at your six, so are we ridin’ this thing or not?” Boone’s voice sounds from the comms again and Tyler hisses, pressing the pads of his fingers down into the flesh of her waist, hips angrily thrusting up into her.

A sob wracks her body and she slumps against him when his hips finally still, his cock sitting dormant inside of her. Every muscle aches in her body and her core practically screams for more, feeling the blisteringly white hot bliss she felt mere moments ago begin to slip away. Perspiration drips in beads down the slides of her face onto his sweat-slicked skin and she lets her lids flutter closed, feeling Tyler’s chest heave up and down beneath her cheek.

Tyler huffs and reaches for the transceiver, bringing it up to his lips. “Yeah, we’re ridin’.”

Her eyelids snap open as Tyler practically shoves her into the passenger seat and she hisses when the back of her head meets the window. “Tyler!” She exclaims as he buckles himself into his harness, gesturing for her to do the same.

“Harness on, baby,” he snickers. “This ain’t your first rodeo.”

As her orgasm slips further away, she scrambles to sit upright in her seat, buckling herself into her harness as Tyler shifts the truck into drive. She hardly has time to get herself properly fastened before she’s being jostled about, slippery palm struggling to find its grip on the handle above her head.

The truck bobs up and down against the unsteady ground it drives on, her thighs instinctively closing together at the friction against her core. Tyler glances over when she does, feeling his dick twitch until it’s unbearable— he can’t not take it into his fist.

She turns her head almost as soon as he does, feeling her stomach do a somersault as he pumps himself in one hand, steering the truck with the other.

“Tyler, we’re driving straight into a fuckin’ tornado right now and you’re jerking yourself off?” She asks with a dent between her brow and he turns, grinning as he does it.

“‘If you feel it, chase it,’ amirite?” He says with a wink and she’d admit— it makes her clit throb. He side-eyes her sore, puffy clit before turning back to the mass of churning wind in front of them. “You should really take care of your situation down there. It’s good for the nerves.”

Blood bites her cheeks as he steers them closer to the tornado and all she can do is stare as he pumps himself, her own hand itching to be between her legs. Tyler drives them into the twister and she can’t fight it anymore, one hand sliding over her clit, the other tightening around the handle above her head.

Tyler’s laugh thunders the small interior of the truck, even as rain and wind and hail pound against the top of the vehicle. He anchors the truck into the ground and fires off the rockets, tightening his fist around his cock, tugging angrily, damn near ferally.

Tyler’s a fucking animal, anyone could see that. But he’s a whole new breed when they’re alone, absolutely primal.

The pads of her fingers race back and forth over her nub, her legs shaking as she brings herself back towards that edge Tyler nearly pushed her over moments before. His name stumbles past her lips in a whimper and she feels his hand snake around her head, bringing her closer.

“Fuck, come here,” he growls against her lips before enveloping them with his, his tongue like a bull she struggles to stay atop. There’s a knot building at the pit of her belly that’s on the precipice of rupturing, closer and closer with every flick of her fingers against her clit.

“Gettin’ close?” He asks against her mouth and she mewls, nodding. He grins against her lips, “do it.”

The wind pounds against the steel of the truck and the vehicle rocks as the vortex twirls around them. She used to think this was crazy, absolutely utterly insane and it is— but she’d be lying if she said it wasn’t equally exhilarating. She thinks risk is what she’s been missing all her life— and then she met Tyler. It seems risk has been her new normal ever since they started dating.

But this?

This was unlike anything she’s ever done before.

When she finally felt herself tip over the edge and her orgasm wreaks havoc through her body, like a cyclone meeting the ground, carving a path into the earth in its wake. A loud string of curses tumble past Tyler’s lips as he, too, meets his end and they’re two identical supercells, spinning into one another until they become one. His mouth is a seal over hers, warm and wet when they meet. Her mind is numb with sex and all she can think to say is his name, chanting it over and over like it’s holy word.

The tornado dissipates around them and she can hear the crew cheer through the radios when Tyler finally pulls away, a thread of saliva a bridge between their lips. She falls limp against the back of her seat, the aftershocks of her release rattling her bones.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy, you know that, Owens?” She finally says once she’s come to and Tyler laughs beside her, caressing the side of her face with his knuckles.

“I always say, ‘you don’t face your fears, you ride em’, cowgirl,” He adds with a wink. Her eyes roll and she reaches for her panties he’d thrown in the backseat, pulling them up her legs.

“Jesus, you can’t get any cornier, can you?”

a/n; outing myself as an oklahoman (yes, i do in fact live in the sooner state unfortunately but maybe fortunately in this context lmfao) because the inner storm enthusiast inside of me is SCREAMING after watching twisters. please don't mind my sloppy ass writing here, i was just incredibly horny after watching it LMFAOOOOOO (this is also not proofread!)

🌪️ if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging or even leaving a reply to let me know! it means the world to me 🫶

#twisters 2024 #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #tyler owens imagine #tyler owens fanfiction #tyler owens twisters #glen powell #twisters movie

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alexiroflife · 6 months ago

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"i missed you"

MDNI, so much suggestive everything, a little fluff but in the sukuna kind of way

ryomen sukuna x reader

Synopsis: sukuna will never say i miss you, but he will surely show you how much he does when you come home

to sum it up: just a late night thought

WC: 1,816

Warning(s): smut, literally just porn, sukuna has a dirty mouth, a whisper of overstimulation

Sukuna would take out a whole city before he openly admits that he misses you, which unfortunately isn't something you would entirely put past him.

You don't expect him to tell you when he wants to see your face, but you do, however, grow rather accustomed to the way he blows up your phone while you're away with family. When you're given a second to check your notifications, text after text after text lines up from your boyfriend, demanding to know where you are and what you're doing every second of the damn day.

And when he's not making inquiries about every little detail of your life from the moment you wake up to when you go to sleep, he's demanding you return home with empty threats that you know will never be carried out.

-> come home before the next sunrise or you will no longer be welcome within the estate.

-> i've changed my mind. come home tonight, or i am moving your stuff out of our room tomorrow morning.

-> are you seeing my texts? i know you can read. uraume taught me about what this device calls read receipts. answer me now. you are returning home, yes?

-> dammit, woman, just bring your ass back here. what more do you want?

You snort at the texts, your chest warming with endearment at his funny way of expressing his longing for you. He will pull every card, every bluff, every trick besides physically saying that he misses you, and you expect nothing less. After all, if he didn’t, he wouldn't be the Ryomen Sukuna you fell in love with. Somehow, this is more entertaining... just more Sukuna.

When you finally do return home, though, you're in for it. You're hardly even rolling your suitcases to the doors before Sukuna is swinging them open with an aggravated face upon seeing you. You grin widely.

"Kuna! I'm back!"

"Get the fuck in here."

He grabs you by the waist and lifts you up, abandoning your luggage and calling for Uraume to take care of it later. You giggle to yourself as Ryomen carries you with one arm to his chambers, kicking the door closed behind him and tossing you onto the large king bed that the two of you share.

"Well, don't act too excited," you tease.

"Quiet," he demands, voice menacingly low. Sharp hunger swirls in his crimson eyes as he approaches you, the shadow of his burly figure enveloping your frame as he towers over you at the edge of the bed. Your eyes go wide and your heart suddenly pounds in anticipation.

"Wait," you start, reaching a hand out. "Hold on-"

You yelp, the king of curses dragging you harshly by your ankle to the edge. He leans over you, his nose brushing against yours as his blood-red irises seer into your own. He studies you like a predator analyzing its prey before pouncing, devouring. You gulp, innocent lashes batting up at him as heat consumes your body. You know exactly what’s coming to you.

Just then, in his closeness, you remember how much you've missed him while you were away. His scent enrobes you, his eyes undressing you sinfully before he can even rip your clothes from your body. You rub your thighs together in a poor attempt to ease the sudden ache between your legs, and his gaze grows darker.

"You're never leaving this room ever again without my say so," he seethes, a declaration so firm that you almost believe he is being serious, and perhaps in his mind he is.

Your lips quirk up slightly. "Did you miss me that much?"

"Silence," he growls, hooking his fingers into your shorts and tugging them down harshly. You gasp and he tosses them over his head, caging you beneath his mass. "We're not going anywhere until I feel like I've successfully made up for all the time we’ve lost while you were away."

This is your favorite part of returning home from trips, though you don't go away without Sukuna often unless it's to see your family. You hate being away from the king of curses, even if it's for longer than a day. He's got you trained by his hand, somehow, yearning for his touch as though you'll crumble to pieces without it.

But the second you reunite, he has your thighs pressed up with your knees to your ears, hunched over your quivering bare frame, your stomach and legs already coated with three layers of your own fluid. He works his dick into you like it's the last time he ever will, slamming into the warmth of your sloppy pussy as you clench around him helplessly.

You’re whining, begging for more though you've already been given so much, your pretty eyes a fucked out daze as you stare up at him behind low lids, pretty lips parted and slick with his spit. He missed this. He missed seeing you ruined for him, seeing you lay back and struggle to take his fat cook as he bullies it into you with no remorse, feral for impossibly deeper access. And hell, he’d never say it, but he missed you. Your pretty face, your sounds, the smell of your sweet sweat and juices invading Sukuna's senses that are absolutely mouthwatering.

"You keep tryin' to keep this filthy cunt away from me, huh?" he pants, watching as your body rocks back and forth wildly against the mattress. "Fucking shameful. You know you can never take her from me, so I'm not sure why you continue to try..."

"M-n-not," you gasp, your words hardly audible as they melt into the plethora of pathetic moans that string from your swollen lips.

Sukuna presses himself down against you, bare chest to your tits as he fucks you into pace, his lips turning to your ear. "No?" he grunts, pulling back to blow harshly into you, his thick length ramming against your walls and nudging that sweet spot inside you over and over. You cry, clinging to his back and digging your nails into his tatted skin. "Then why the fuck didn't you come home when your king demanded?"

"Pl-hah-pleaseee, k-kuna- nghhh- was with my-my parents," you babble.

"You were with your parents," he repeats mockingly. "Do you think I care for something so unimportant? I called for you. Not your parents."

His hips thrust harshly with the gruff groan of his voice, and he feels your puffy, greedy walls tighten around him.

"Oh? This pussy loves being punished, doesn't it?" he smirks against you. "You're such a fucking whore for my cock, aren't you?"

"Mmmm!"

Sukuna rips himself back, reaching down to clench his thick fingers around your throat. Your jaw hangs open, eyes threatening to roll into the back of your head while his other hand claws at the plush of your damp thigh. "Answer me properly, brat," he hisses. "Use your fucking mouth."

"Y-Yesss!"

"Yes what?"

"M'a whore for your cock, Kuna! Only for you, all for you," you whimper, tears streaming down your pretty face.

"Fuck, I fucking know you are." He spears his dick into, rough, deep, heavy thrusts as the sound of your arousal squelches around him. He looks down, watching with a twisted grin as you coat him in a creamy white ring. "How the hell could you think to hold out on me like this, peach? She'so fuckin' loud."

"S'all yours," you whimper, and Sukuna squeezes harder at your throat, leaning in to brush his lips over your gaping mouth.

"I know that, I don't need you fuckin' telling me," he growls. "All mine. You're mine. You belong to me. You’re not going anywhere else without me. Don’t you even think about it.”

And you're nodding dumbly, eyes barely open.

"You better look at me, girl," he demands, and you snap your eyes back open to peer into his consuming, lust-filled stare. He smiles deviously. "Yeahhh. Keep looking at me while I fuck you stupid."

"Goddd, it's so good..! So good, feel'so good," you slur. Sukuna hums, eying every detail of your face as you curl your brows and moan beautifully into his mouth.

"Fucking gorgeous slut," he grunts. "You better not fucking leave me again, brat, you better fucking not. You've got a lot of nerve, thinking you can take this pussy away from me. You do it again, and I will break you."

"Y'already breaking me- ah fuck!" you cry, screwing your eyes shut the moment his tip brushes your cervix. His hand around your throat moves to grip your cheeks. He pulls you up to his face, smearing a hot kiss against your squished lips, then grabs your hips harshly, plowing into you impossibly faster. "Kuna! Can't! I can't, m'gonna cum again!"

"Yeah? Good. When you do, you're gonna take mine too while I fuck my cum into you. Maybe then that'll make you fucking remember to come to me when I call for you."

The noises coming from your room are obscene. The bed is rocking dangerously against the floor and the wall as Sukuna practically splits you in half, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he traps you beneath him again, sinking his fangs into any patch of skin he can find as you scream out, scratching angry red lines down his well-toned back.

"Mmm, that's right. Keep screaming' for me. Take it like a good fucking slut."

He's filthy, balls smacking against your ass as he seeks your release, and he can feel you clenching tighter and tighter. He groans, pushing in deeper, pressing into you harder.

"Oh shit, please- m'cumming, m'cumming, please let me cum!" you beg, trembling beneath him.

"Fucking do it. Cum all over this cock, peach."

You curl into him, face falling into a mute moan as your eyes disappear into your skull and you rub up into Sukuna. His hand flies to your arched back, holding you against him as he pumps you full, riding out your high until his hot load shoots into your dripping heat soon after, painting you white.

There's so much of it, too. It seems to never end as it drips from where you're connected and runs down your legs. Sukuna growls out animalistic sounds, biting hard into your neck and burrowing his nose in your shoulder as he continues his pace, slowly, then back to a normal space.

You jerk against him, trying to push away. "Oh fuck! N-no, Sukuna, ple- hah! Please, I can't! Too much!"

"Shut the fuck up," he demands, lifting up to slap a hand over your mouth. Your dizzy eyes stare at him widely as he works his cum back into you with his hefty strokes. He exhales harshly, brows angling. "I told you I wasn't letting you leave. You left me, now I expect you to make up for it."

Yeah… he sure did miss you alright.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fandom #jjk fanfic #anime #jjk #jjk season 2 #jjk x you #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna smut

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bumblesimagines · 5 months ago

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His Love to Keep

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Prince (Y/N) Targaryen and his cousin-wife, Princess Rhaenyra, have never truly seen eye to eye after she replaced his father as heir and removed him from line of succession. They both find lovers to keep their beds warm but with age and time comes the desire to redo things.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, mentions of marital SA, affairs/cheating on all sides rlly, moon tea usage, mentions of religious guilt?, implied rhaenicent, love triangle trope, canon divergent/AU, sexual/suggestive content, Targcest (Cousins), Rhaenyra is described with her book accurate appearance/body type

About fucking time I did one of these. fuck team black and team green I'm team milf 💪

~~~

"Must you truly go?"

"It is my duty, Alicent."

"Those boys are bastards," Alicent spoke softly, the cup in hand warming her palms as the subtle smell of tansy and mint drifted from the steam brushing along her skin. She watched ripples form in the tea with the slightest of movements, unable to swallow down the nerves beginning to bubble up underneath her skin. "You are not bound to them. They are not your sons."

"I scarcely see them and they still burst with excitement when I visit." (Y/N) strode forward to close the distance between them, his fingers reaching out to brush aside a curled strand of her auburn hair. Alicent lifted her head toward him, the ghost of a smile gracing her lips when his palm pressed against her cheek and she leaned into it. "They may not be my sons by blood but they are by marriage. They must at least feel cared for, even if once every few moons."

Alicent pursed her lips, her big brown eyes peering up at him. "Would you travel to Dragonstone more often if they were yours?" She asked tentatively, gingerly setting the moon tea on the table and rising from her chair. He watched her, his arm encircling her waist when she grew closer, the soft fabric of her thin nightgown rubbing along his arm. "Or would you return to me as you so often do?"

(Y/N) chuckled breathily, his (E/C) eyes crinkling with amusement and his free hand rising to cup her cheek once more. He leaned in and kissed her gently, their eyes fluttering shut as they exchanged breaths. Alicent's arms slipped around his shoulders and pressed her body close to his, eager to soak up whatever she could before they'd be forced apart again by duty. The back of her hips met the side of the table and she leaned back against it, her leg lifting off the ground as her heel dug its way up his calf and thigh until she hooked her leg around his waist.

"Do not go." She asked pleadingly when they pulled apart for air, her hold on his shoulders tightening briefly when he lifted her up and set her at the edge of the table. Her fingers tugged at the laces in the front of her dress and the sleeves went slack, slipping off her shoulders and threatening to go past her elbows. "You can correspond through ravens." She told him, the pout that'd formed on her lips being kissed away.

His hand slipped beneath her nightgown, forcing it upwards until it rested around her hips. He squeezed the flesh of her thigh where fading marks resided, his lips ghosting over her throat and collarbone. "I have visited Dragonstone plenty of times, Alicent. You have never been against it before." He reminded her, his lips pressing against the valley between her chest as the dress slipped further down until it fully pooled around her hips.

Alicent's head tilted backward, her soft curls tumbling past her shoulders and grazing along the table. She braced her elbows against the smooth wood, unable to find any excuse apart from worry and a hint of jealousy but her inexplicable mind hardly allowed her to comprehend who exactly she was jealous of if tides shifted between the couple; Rhaenyra or her lover. Ser Harwin had passed some years prior and she'd heard little of Rhaenyra growing close to anyone else since then. It both filled her with dread and intrigue.

"I have been against you allowing yourself to be seen playing father to those boys. She makes a mockery of you." Alicent said breathily, her legs parting and revealing herself as bare as the previous night when she'd gone to him in hopes of convincing him to remain in Dragonstone. It'd been a fruitless yet enjoyable attempt.

"She makes a mockery of herself and her father." (Y/N) rebutted swiftly, his hands briefly leaving her thighs to unbutton his loose pants.

A shuddering breath escaped Alicent when she felt him push inside, the act so familiar yet it still felt unknown to her. Viserys had never cared for her comfort or pleasure during acts of 'passion', only chasing his own pleasure whilst her mind drifted elsewhere. But in the arms of a lover who truly desired her, everything felt different. Every touch felt electrifying, every kiss left butterflies behind, and every thrust sent a jolt of pleasure up her spin. She remained mindful of the early hour in the morrow; many courtiers and servants had the habit of rising with the sun and traveling through the halls of the castle.

Her arm curled around his neck when he buried his face into the nape of hers, her other hand digging into the fabric of his shoulder and crinkling it as her nails pressed through to his skin. Quiet and soft pants, sighs, and moans escaped her parted lips, her teeth digging into her lip whenever her voice edged toward a louder volume that would alert those passing by the doors to her bedchambers. She'd already instructed her trusted handmaiden to send away those who wished an audience but she'd hardly be a match for anyone alerted by the noise.

Alicent's hand slapped down on the table, curling her fingers around the edge to stabilize herself and the creaking furniture. Part of her felt guilty for engaging in the sinful act of laying with another while bound by the vows of marriage; guilty for betraying the lingering love she held for Rhaenyra and the trust the kingdom had put upon her shoulders when she wed Viserys. She'd pray in the sept later in the day, asking to be absolved of her sins but the prince was too addicting to give up for Gods she found herself straying further and further away from.

Her back arched with her abrupt high and he claimed her lips before she could cry out, muffling the noise and the ones that followed when he continued. She clung onto him, and perhaps clung to the idea he'd be tempted to remain at her side as well, the air escaping her lungs and legs caging around him in a tight hold. Her mind grew clouded from the pleasure and near overstimulation, filling her head with thoughts of carrying his child and finally giving him a proper heir to Runestone, but she would not sully him with another bastard as Rhaenyra had. Perhaps in another time, her children would've been his and they would've been happier far from the suffocating walls of the Keep.

She thought of that life often, and it plagued her when she watched his dragon disappear over the vast sea while the horrid taste of the moon tea danced on her tongue.

Despite having her darling sons to keep her company and the occasional visits from her uncle and young cousins.. nothing ever changed the heart-aching loneliness that'd clawed its way into Rhaenyra's chest following the Year of the Red Spring. She'd lost the three people closest to her, the few who knew her secrets and worries. It pained her to know she'd never feel Harwin's warm embrace or hear Laena's mischievous laughter or watch the way Laenor's eyes sparkled when he spoke of his lover. She had few friends in the Keep and even fewer on the isolated island of Dragonstone.

Rhaenyra wrapped her arms around herself, the sleeves of her dress providing little warmth against the natural chill of Dragonstone from the sea breeze. She strode down the halls in contemplation, although she likely appeared more like a lost ghost forever forced to wander. The letter that'd arrived the previous day had been short and with little details but it'd been from her husband informing her of his arrival to visit 'the boys'.

Her lips quirked and she sighed through her nose. 'The boys', always 'the boys' or 'your sons but never 'our sons' despite the fact he was the only father they'd ever known. Harwin had been forced to play the part of a friendly uncle figure, forced to watch his children scurry to the feet of a man who treated them with polite affection over genuine love. Rhaenyra hardly found blame within herself. He'd left her alone in the Keep after their wedding, and it'd only been through a letter begging him to return that he'd begrudgingly flown back to see her. The irritation on his face when she explained her newfound predicament- the possibility of being pregnant- had nearly enraged her but he agreed to pretend as if the boys had inherited their brown hair and softer features from his late mother.

Her attention tugged away from her thoughts and onto the long shadow along the floor peeking out from the balcony, her step quickening slightly to have a peek at the person standing there. She smiled immediately upon seeing Luke with his arms braced against the stone railing and his head tilted toward the clouds in the direction of King's Landing, a bright sparkle in his vibrant eyes. She approached him, settling her hands over his shoulders as she pecked the back of his head.

"Will you ask him, Mother?" Luke questioned, pressing himself further against the railing as he combed the clouds for any sign of (Y/N) or his dragon.

"If you can travel with him to Runestone?" Rhaenyra chuckled at the barely contained excitement in his voice despite the ache and tug at her heartstrings. The mere thought of parting with her sweet boy filled her with longing, and they'd yet to even ask (Y/N) if it'd be alright. "I will ask him, Luke. I am certain he'll be more than pleased to show you Runestone and its many ports. You must pay close attention. You will rule it someday."

Luke grimaced at that. "Wouldn't that mean Father has died?" His head turned to peer up at her with those big striking eyes of his; eyes she'd never be able to deny, now more than ever when they reminded her of the shade of Harwin's.

"Oh, my darling," Rhaenyra cooed, running her fingers through his soft curls. "Ruling does not always entail someone has died. Does Princess Rhaenys not rule Driftmark as her husband's regent while he recovers from his injury? If your... father were to fall ill or sustain an injury that confines him to his bed and you are of age, you would rule in his steed with the help of your great-uncle. You would rule if I were to fall ill and your father had to rule as regent in King's Landing."

Her words seemed to ease Luke, his hair flopping lightly against his forehead when he nodded and his lips tugging into that smile of his that could brighten the dullest of days. They both turned toward the skies when a deepened screech echoed through the quiet afternoon air and they watched a large figure descend from the clouds and skim the water with its wings. Suvion released another cry when he drew closer, one that seemingly roused his mother and son. In the distance, Rhaenyra faintly made out Silverwing and Arrax's cries in response.

"Father!" Luke leaped away and hurried into the hallway, his feet slapping against the stone floor as he raced toward the entrance leading into Dragonmont.

Taking a deep inhale, Rhaenyra released it in a sigh and followed after her son, hands clutching the deep red of her skirts and lifting the ends to quicken her pace. She couldn't help but chuckle at Luke's excitement despite the way her heart twisted at the knowledge he'd never have a chance to be excited over his real father. She caught Luke taking Joffery's small hand in his and tugging him further into the entrance of the cave system where (Y/N) would dismount, and found Jace lingering with twisted lips and sullen eyes.

"Jace," She called softly, releasing her skirts to place her hand on his arm. "Are you not excited to greet your father?"

"Is he excited to see us?" Jace asked glumly and Rhaenyra winced. "He has resided in King's Landing for days and has not spared us a single visit in moons. Must he make it any more obvious that we are of little importance to him?"

Before Rhaenyra could respond, Jace stalked inside, ever the polite one even in his disappointment and anger. She sighed once more and followed him inside, squinting through the light pouring into the cave from the opening on the side and blinking until her eyes adjusted. (Y/N) climbed off Suvion and cooed quietly to his dragon as he slipped his gloves off, handing them to the nearby servant. Suvion chirped softly and dipped down, disappearing into one of the many tunnels within Dragonmont.

Luke stopped a few feet away from him and dipped his head in respect before releasing Joffery's hand and lunging himself forward. He swung his arms around (Y/N)'s waist and pressed his cheek into his chest, a gleeful smile on his face. Little Joffery clumsily bowed as well and shuffled forward to cling onto (Y/N)'s leg. (Y/N) chuckled at their affection and patted Luke's head, murmuring some words Rhaenyra couldn't hear and leaning down to take Joffery into his arms.

"Husband," Rhaenyra greeted when he approached, the word still foreign on her tongue despite the many years since their wedding. She hoped to remedy that for the sake of her sons and before loneliness could consume her whole.

"Rhaenyra," (Y/N) nodded, his brows twitching at the use of his martial title but his face smoothed over into a polite smile when he turned to Jace and offered him Joffery. Rhaenyra felt thankful, in a way, that the years he'd spent attached to her father's hip had eased him into a calmer man. She feared what would have become of him if he'd only been raised by Daemon.

Gingerly taking his little brother, Jace bowed his head, his lips pulled into a thin line. "My Prince." He greeted and Rhaenyra hoped her sharp inhale had gone unnoticed by her younger sons. "I hope your flight was well."

"It was, though I am in need of a bath and some rest." (Y/N) told them, his hand brushing over Luke's head one last time before he slipped past them and began heading toward the castle. "I'll see you at supper." He called over his shoulder.

Rhaenyra bit her inner cheek and spared her children a glance, her legs turning and catching up with her husband. She caught his arm and slipped hers around it, glancing over her shoulder at her boys. "Your belongings in the Sea Dragon Tower have been moved to my bedchambers." She told him quietly.

"And why so?"

"Because you are my husband." Rhaenyra scoffed. "Is that not reason enough? Must I get on my knees and beg for my husband to sleep in the same room as me?"

"You only wish to sleep in the same room as me when you are pregnant with another man's child, Rhaenyra. You ought to learn to ask for moon tea when you sleep with a lover. You've already doomed your two eldest." (Y/N) tugged his arm free from her hold, his lip curled slightly in irritation. "What is it now?"

"It is as I said. It is truly so absurd to desire time with the man I married or do you detest the idea so much you'd rather humiliate me by refusing?" Rhaenyra questioned, her voice rising in volume and eyes fiery as they both stalked toward her bedchambers. Servants clumsily bowed and stepped out of the way from them, their eyes wide with exchanged glances. "When will you grace us with an inch of maturity, I wonder, or will you forever act as a scorned child? It was your father whose ambition and loose tongue stripped him of his title as heir!"

"It is amusing to hear you speak of maturity, Rhaenyra; it is like a jester speaking of dignity." (Y/N) spat back.

The doors to her apartments were opened hastily by the guard and swiftly shut behind them. (Y/N)'s strides were broken when he took a moment to observe his surroundings, only moving once he noticed the pitcher full of wine and filled a cup to the brim. Rhaenyra watched him drink from it, her chest heaving from her annoyance. She took a deep breath in hopes of calming herself and felt the emotion ease down whilst he rid himself of his riding clothes.

"We recently learned of your long stay in King's Landing. They will question you as to why you have not come sooner... and I would like to know the answer, too. I know my father's health has been steadily worsening through the years but I doubt you are of any help to the maesters dedicated to ensuring he heals." Rhaenyra approached him from behind, her hands resting upon his shoulders and helping slip the undershirt off his body. She let it drop onto the pile of clothing on the floor and inched closer, the palms of her hands running along his warm skin. She felt a subtle small bump, her brows furrowing as she traced it and quickly recognized it as fading scratch marks. She stilled. "Unless there are other reasons for your visits..."

He only exhaled through his nose and remained silent. Rhaenyra staggered backward at his lack of response, her widening eyes watching him shed the last of his clothing and step into the warm water within the tub. Her mind flickered through the various courtiers she recalled resided in the Keep prior to her departure to Dragonstone.

It was hypocritical, she knew, to grow so uneasy at the thought of him with another. He'd been indifferent to the years Harwin spent at her side and while she'd always wondered if he'd taken a lover of his own, she always believed it'd be someone from one of the lesser houses in the Vale over someone just a ride away. There were many beautiful ladies residing in the Keep but as always, Rhaenyra's mind lingered on her old friend.

"I suspected the reason you never cared for Harwin was because you had your own lover waiting in Runestone... yet now I am led to believe that lover calls King's Landing home. What would Queen Alicent say, I wonder, if she grew to learn of your doings beneath her nose and watchful eyes? She's always been so righteous... I am certain even with the animosity between us, she'd ask of you to return to your wife." Rhaenyra swallowed thickly, watching him as he cleaned himself. "Who is it? You knew of mine, I wish to know of yours."

"I find it hard to understand you, Rhaenyra." He muttered. "You always pined for freedom and adventure yet accepted the title of heir; you defended your inheritance yet fled the Keep because of mere court gossip; you never longed for children yet allowed the seed of Breakbones to sprout life three times; you never desired this marriage yet now wish to keep me close after years. Who I lay with is of little interest to you when any other man would have found grounds for a divorce all those years ago."

"You never gave us a chance or have you forgotten you climbed atop Suvion the morrow after our wedding and abandoned me to be in Runestone?" A hot flash of anger jolted through her body, her fingers curling into fits. She often thought of that morning, of rising after a night of angry passion only to discover her new husband had left without a word. It'd been the only time they'd properly been with one another and she'd been left wondering if she'd disappointed him enough for him to believe the marriage was merely an inconvenience.

"Would you have rather I missed the funeral of my mother?" (Y/N) shot her a glare over his shoulder and tossed aside the sponge, satisfied with his bath and rising to dry himself.

Rhaenyra's swift anger stilled, unable to stop her eyes from wandering. It'd been long since she'd last seen him fully undressed, and even then the memories of their only time together were a whirlwind. He'd always been a fine-looking prince, especially in his youth when he still carried the air of youthful arrogance befitting of a prince. He'd certainly grown into a handsome man, one with mixtures of Targaryen and Royce features that melted together perfectly.

Rhaenyra forced herself to swallow the spiteful words ready on her tongue and she turned, retrieving a maroon-colored robe with golden designs and approaching him. He eyed her but nonetheless allowed her to help him dress. "I would have rather you spoken to me. I may have been.. reckless and rebellious in my youth but I would not have refused to accompany you. I could have been convinced into waiting for your return but you made your opinion clear. Did you truly never long for a wife all those lonely years in Runestone? Did you never long for.. what could have been?"

"We were children, Rhaenyra. I was a child forced into an abrupt marriage and then forced to deal with the passing of my mother while my family spoke of their suspicion of my father killing her. I had little time to think of a wife who disliked me when I had to learn to rule Runestone and sedate the thirst for revenge in my family. Perhaps these past few years I've thought of having true children that are mine but we've made our beds, Rhaenyra. What's done is done."

"You speak as if I am not still your wife." Rhaenyra released a huff of amusement, her hand smoothing over the front of the robe and feeling the soft fabric. Her fingers dipped beneath the robes and roamed until her thumb brushed over the trail of hair leading further down. He made a noise in the back of his throat but when he did nothing to push her away, Rhaenyra found victory. "I am still of childbearing age, (Y/N). I too have longed for a babe in recent times. I've desired a girl for much time now that Jace and Luke will soon be man-grown and beginning their own families."

(Y/N)'s eyes jumped away from her, his brows slightly dipping together and jaw subtly ticking. She wondered if he thought of his lover and how she would react to the news, and Rhaenyra felt a hint of satisfaction despite the curiosity swirling around her chest. She wanted a name and a face to put to the woman who'd likely cloud her mind for the rest of her life. It'd always been expected of ladies to tolerate the mistresses of their husbands but Rhaenyra could hardly see herself allowing such a thing

"I am certain this is the very reason my lover did not wish for me to come here." (Y/N) sighed and Rhaenyra blinked at him, unable to comprehend why then he'd flown to Dragonstone if the person he did care about asked of him otherwise. Her heart fluttered at the possibilities.

She pressed her hand to the nape of his neck and pulled him closer, bringing her lips over his and sighing in relief as their lips moved together. "She will have to understand and bring herself to forgive," Rhaenyra said, already breathless and eager. It'd been so, so long since she'd last felt the touch of another.

He grunted into her mouth when her fingers curled around him and pumped him slowly, delighting in the feeling of him fully hardening against her hand. She'd always been a lustful creature, she supposed, always hungering for the feeling of pleasure and power over someone else in such intimate acts.

(Y/N) had always been someone out of reach, both literally and figuratively, so having him shuddering against her and grazing his tongue against hers only fueled her desire. Rhaenyra savored each grunt, hiss, and needy kiss as she stroked him, running her fingers along the slit and coating her skin.

Her dress loosened when he undid the laces at the back of her gown with expertise. She relished the quiet, muffled huff that left him when she retracted her hand to peel the sleeves off her arms and allow the dress to slump down at their feet with her undergarments quickly following. He leaned back to observe her, his eyes taking in the newfound curves of her body she'd obtained from age and multiple pregnancies. Much of the weight from bearing children had remained, remolding her body into something new and far from the girl he'd consummated his marriage with.

Rhaenyra grinned at the flicker of hunger in his eyes before the grin vanished with a gasp as he latched onto her neck and pulled her closer. She shuddered and wrapped her arms around him, quiet sighs and gasps leaving her with each nip and suckle at her throat. They stumbled back toward the bed and Rhaenyra pushed at his shoulders until he sat at the edge, parting briefly with each other before she settled on his lap.

Cradling his face in her hands, she pressed another kiss to his lips. "Today and every day til I am with child, you are mine and mine alone."

1K notes · View notes

ridingtorohan · 17 days ago

Note

hey!! i saw ur recent post about the tulpar crew walking in on reader touching themselves, could u do the same but vice versa?

Ask and ye shall receive!

𓇻 ft. tulpar crew x gn reader

𓇻 content. 18+ content, minors dni. possible second hand embarrassment. masturbation, sexual propositions, the whole shebang. this is a sequel to this post. this one can definitely be read on its own though. lightly implied that reader didn't accept swansea or daisuke's offers in the prequel but that can be left up to interpretation. jimmy's definitely happened though.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Masterlist - Want to Join my Taglist?

Curly is just so damn tired. Tired of the reports, faxes, checking the straps in the cargo bay. One of the few downtimes he gets is when he can sit and watch the constellations pass on the common room monitor. The Augira, Constantine and Mitena were all ones that he recognized from this sect of the system, all penned from the eyes of Saturn and further.

Movies are a scarce commodity on the screen, given Jimmy's track record of not wanting to hook the systems up, but it helps him nod off most times.

Working out, though? Working out he can do. Pony Express has given him permission to bring his weights on board, alongside a slew of magazines and audiobooks to listen to.

While Curly doesn't think of himself as a gym rat, those moments to himself are some of the best. Nothing but the burn of iron, the strain of his muscles with each rep. It's methodical work, one that sets his mind at ease and off of reports for once.

Some days, he can get Jimmy in on the action, but most of the time his co-pilot bemoans it. Each time they worked out, the stretches between the next session grew longer.

He's pleased when you agree to attend a few sessions with him. By then, it's almost amicable between you two, as if him walking in you didn't even happen. He's very much acted the part of a dutiful captain, though, he can't help his own eyes from wandering when he sees you stretch. Can't help himself from putting his hands firmly on you when he goes to correct your stance. It doesn't linger, doesn't wander, but goddamn, does he wish he could throw propriety out the window.

It's after one of his solo workout sessions when he chooses another way to unwind. Really, that's the only explanation for it. One that he tells himself anyway, because the strain of propriety is heavy. If he still thinks of you from time to time, if your face crops up in his thoughts while he touches himself, that's his business.

The only places you'd catch him in the act is either in the bathroom or his room.

Curly has always been imaginative, thoughts trailing to roads not travelled, paths that burn out of sight. Of you, sprawled out on the bed, and how he wished he had stayed. How he'd have given anything to hike your legs over his waist and kiss you senseless when he slid against you.

As it always is, every fantasy comes to an abrupt end. Every night that he had dreamed of walking in to find you waiting, you found him. Wifebeater drenched in sweat, towel draped over his shoulders, every line of his well built body on display, hand fisted around his cock.

There's a difference between wishing you'd walk in on him and actually receiving it.

A painful, terse moment lingers between you two, tension so thick he swears he can cut it. His hand completes the motion, wiping from his base to the tip, each breath deep. Despite how uncomfortable he felt (for more than one reason), he also felt more prepared. "Hold on a minute." He'll cover himself, boxers and uniform hiding himself from view.

If you believe you could flee from the room without Curly following you, you're dead wrong. He'll track you down, put this to bed once and for all. He'll catch you, half-dressed in his uniform, blue workwear draped around his waist, hand against the wall. "We have to talk about this."

Regardless if you stay or leave, not talking about it is no longer an option. You've both seen more of each other than was warranted, then what you both signed up for, but dammit he wants this. And he's so tired of shying away from things that he wants. From the person that he wants. All because of some higher-ups sitting cozy back home saying that it's wrong to do. He can't do it anymore, not when he feels like he's on the cusp of something great for once in his life.

"I know that what happened isn't what either of us expected," he'll start, voice low and perhaps far too sensual to be appropriate considered his half-dressed state. "And frankly, we can keep it to ourselves, pretend we never saw it." Biting the bullet is one of the fewest things he's done in life, but this is something that he wants to do. By fractions, Curly leans in closer, his voice entering a low murmur. "But... it doesn't have to be. We could give each other a.. hand, so to speak."

Routine. That's one thing that the Tulpar is good at. Routine. Each meal time, the rigid necessity of clocking in and out on time, even bathing. Pony Express may be a shit machine but it's well oiled, worked raw by the people under it. Delivering the payload is a smooth easy task because they all work on it together.

Part of that routine is shift work. Jimmy, ever the night-owl, works evening and night shift. This makes it so incredibly easy to avoid him if you wanted, especially since he walked in on you tending to yourself.

But he doesn't let you forget it. Since that moment, there's a smoldering heat in his gaze, eyes hooded as he watches you go about the room. Watched as you did your tasks, always standing too close - enough that you can get a whiff of his woodsy cologne, or feel his arm against yours.

He's almost helpful, even when your tasks really don't necessitate the need for another. His hands linger, hot against your uniform, his hips against the back of yours whenever he steadied you, or reached above you. Each word a rumble in his throat.

Except there's never really any change to talk to him about what happened. Not when every moment is tense, fraught with unresolved desires and need. Not when Daisuke or Curly walk into the room, silencing the burning questions and words that haunt your lips. Jimmy seems especially disgruntled about the interruptions, getting almost snappy towards the other crewmembers.

All in all, you rarely have a moment to speak with him. It's the furthest thing from your mind when you step out of the shower, more than eager to collapse face first into bed and sleep the weariness away.

If you're the sort to bring clothes into the washroom to change into, the absence of them is noted fast. No amount of scrounging around turns them up either. At a loss, it's to your sleeping quarters to wrangle up something else to wear.

Except you're very much not alone the second you step into your door. The door swishes behind you but you're effectively grounded, eyes drawn to the man lounging on your bed.

His head is tilted, messy hair falling across his hooded eyes, a dark and smoldering look to them. A slow stretch of a smirk crawls across his face, a pleased look darting into his eyes.

Jimmy is just as bare as the day he was born, an arm languidly thrown over your pillow. A leg bent up, not at all coy about having himself on display. His other arm is resting against his thigh, one hand smoothing along his flushed cock in a slow, slick motion. His fingerstips are all but slathered in precum - or actual cum, as you might suspiciously think when you look at your clothes haphazardly thrown onto the floor, looking sticky.

"There you are. Took you long enough." He breathes out your name, chin tilted upward, something primal lurking deep in his eyes. Jimmy clicks his tongue, ever the disapproving copilot. "You should know better than to keep someone waiting." Despite the curt, wanting tone to his words, he doesn't move towards you. Letting you go to him. Like he knows you will.

"I've been thinking," each word is low and deep, husky in his mouth. Jimmy's hand very much doesn't stop moving, stroking himself as you're rooted to the spot. Whenever you glance down between his thighs, his smirk deepens. "That you owe me for what I did for you."

It's not like you could dance around the topic forever; each touch, every interrupted conversation, it all would have culminated to this. Jimmy waiting for you, eager to put his hands back on you, to feel you tremble and shudder beneath him as he pulls you apart.

The thing was, you realize, it'd be terribly easy to leave him here. To not respond to his advances. The door was to your back and even Jimmy had enough sense not to walk out nude in pursuit of you. It'd be easy to walk to another crewmate's quarters and pilfer clothes. It'd be laughed off, brushed under the rug just as another incident, excused as you being unable to enter your room because of 'technical difficulties'.

The thing is, though, you can clearly remember how his hands felt, the way he moved. How Jimmy watched you with the same intensity now, his eyes a dark promise of a repeat experience, if not more.

You don't really want to refuse such an offer, do you?

Try as Anya might, she can't get the image of you out of her head. The sounds you made, how your hands moved. She'd tried to be civil, though how quickly she averts her gaze and fidgety hands betray how much it affected her. Nerves, she'd try to excuse it. Nothing ever related to you, of course, because that sounds too much like blame. She blames herself for walking in on you masturbating, and blames herself for wishing that she hadn't left.

But by god, did it make her needy and so sexually frustrated. She's found every excuse under the sun to touch you then jerk back, at war with herself. She has to act professional. Doesn't she?

Something about you, seeing you like that, had coiled something burning inside of her. Something hot, that festered low in her gut.

For the most part, she can act professional. Mostly. But she can only get so far from letting her eyes trace your silhouette, from sitting on her leg whenever you talk to her. It's risky business, even riskier when she decides to keeps a few tokens of yours. Things that smell like you, even distantly - papers, a bracelet. Things that you've lent to her before.

It's been a while since she got laid, since she's even been attracted to anyone. But something about you just sets her on fire, burning with want and need. She needs you like she's never needed anyone before.

Realistically, Anya knows it's because of the forbidden nature; because of the close proximity day in and day out, but there's something so tantalizingly beautiful about it too. She's a sucker for it.

One of her favourite places to get off is in the medbay; she can lock herself in it - but she doesn't. Because it's so much more tantalizing when she thinks about you walking in. When she thinks about pressing you against the desk and using her medical expertise on you. She wants to hear you - taste you - feel you. Is that too much to ask for?

That's exactly where you catch her. Her breath coming out in hot breaths, eyes shut tightly, uniform pulled open. It'd be so easy to mistake it for something else, such as the room being hot - if it weren't for where her hands were.

One has all but ridden up her shirt, rolling the peak of her breast between her fingers. The zipper has gone all the way down to her waist, one hand curled tightly in her underwear, motions jerky as she fingers herself.

Every inch of her wishes that it was you, your fingers working her over, touching her clit and prodding at her walls. She feels so close, having edged herself for a bit until you came in.

It was just to ask her her input on supper, or for a nonsensical question that very well could have waited for another moment.

The door swishes shut behind you and her eyes flutter, dark as she looks up at you, flush all but crawling up her neck.

Seeing how you look at her - how you came to look for her- needing her for something, a question halfway on your lips - and it's her undoing. She moans your name, guttural and hoarse, hips jerking, dripping over her knuckles. "Wait-" Singlehandedly one of the better orgasms she's had, better than when she pined endlessly.

When her senses come back, Anya is breathless and shaken - and you're long gone.

She's not letting you go this time. Not when a new, burning question lodges inside her. Did you like what you see? Did you wish you weren't there?

Anya approaches your door at night, knocking crisply and when you grant entrance, she stands there, the atmosphere almost palpably awkward. She takes a few steps closer, feeling flighty and desperate, eyes searching your face, whispering your name.

"I'm sorry you had to see that," she whispers, voice low in the room, nerves biting at her throat. She can't not know anymore. "But I'm... glad that you did."

"Is this.. tension between us all in my head, or, do you want me too?"

It's one thing after the next. Couplings came loose, Daisuke's homework is not up to par, the lightbulbs need to be changed but no one seems capable of doing it. It all amounts to a sort of frustration winding up in him. Swansea has enough grace not to lash out at anyone, but it's there, palpable in his tone.

By some saving grace, you're willing to help him out with his work. Passing over screwdrivers and wrenches, new copper wire as he needs it. Swansea has noticed that you're attentive and eager like that; willing to help. Sometimes, he really wished you were his intern instead of Daisuke, not that he blames the kid.

He really needs a damn beer.

Wanking out his frustrations as a teenager and young adult had really suited him just fine, and with each passing day, it becomes a far more likely possibility.

It surely does not help when every little moment with you feels charged. Knuckles brushing when you supply him with mechanic tools, or when his arm brushed against your thigh as he steadied the ladder for you.

Swansea finds his gaze lingering.. on how your uniform bunches, the sway of your walk, the excited chatter to your tone when you've launched into some spiel or other. Each look he gives you is in quiet contemplation, though perhaps not as obvious as to why.

He's long since brushed off your curious questions.

It's when Anya outright slipped and fell over an oil spill that Swansea called it quits. There's only so many small annoyances that he could take before it became a hazardous snowstorm.

After it's suitably cleaned, he tried to find a place to tuck himself away. Keyword: tried. Something else always needed to be fixed, and he had enough years under his belt to know the ins and out of everything. Leaky faucet? Hold his glass. Vaccuum given up? He's got it. Curly, goddammit, he has it.

It's so grueling to find a moment of peace, so he takes what he can. That just so happened to be in the utility room, frustrations to a boiling point.

He knows his body, knows just the right way to stroke himself, the perfect amount of pressure. Learned it long since his youthful days, since his amicable divorce from his wife. Sure, it might feel mechanic at a certain point, but to him, it was a small reprieve. A getaway that only booze came close to.

Foreskin pulled back, his head is tucked low, eyes heavily lidded, fingertips pressing under the tip of the head just like he likes.

Swansea has himself sticky with precum when the utility door rattles and open. "Swansea, I found your keys-"

His eyes track up, eyebrows raised. Whatever hasty attempt you may have made, it's blocked by the aging mechanics of the utility door. It's from an older rig, one that still uses keys instead of the security bars that the medbay and cockpit use. Which means it's faulty as shit.

He sighs, head tipped back, eyes still on you. "That's on me for not leaving a sock out there," he grumbles, voice gruff and husky. A reference to how he told you to ward off people when he caught you masturbating earlier.

Moving his hand from his cock, his gaze is surprisingly steady, arm draped against the back of the chair. "Listen, kid, I won't say shit about this if you don't. Keep it jammed tight better than a olive jar when making margaritas. But." He rolls his neck, feeling a satisfying crack run through him. "I can show ya a few things that the ole cap' or other men won't, if yer interested."

Daisuke has been, for lack of a better word, edgy around you. Hovering, then trying to create distance. He can't seem to decide how to act around you. Not when he's seen you that way, pleasuring yourself. When he wishes you'd involve him.

He's seen plenty of naked people before, got hard over them, but wow, did you take it to the next level. Even how you tilt your head or roll up your sleeves has him in an outright tizzy, straining hard in his pants.

Daisuke often has to excuse himself from your presence. Ignoring Swansea's rolling eyes and knowing scoffs is easy; ignoring you is harder.

It's during one of those mundane tasks, where you're prattling about your work to the others, his eyes glued to your form, absorbing every word that he can't take it anymore. Excusing himself, he pops right out of the room, awkwardly striking towards his bunk.

But of course that is the exact moment you decide you need to return his gameboy - or comic, or whatever he had lent you a few weeks prior.

Daisuke is completely in the groove, pants folded down, back propped to the wall, knees folded and lips parted with each heavy breath. He's always been loud, noisy and boisterous. But his saving (and falling) grace is that he's also often playing movies in his room, and what muffled sounds you may hear from the other side of the door is easily chalked up to that. (Or perhaps, you knew.)

You catch him like that, hand fisted around his lean cock, shirt ridden up over his stomach, his movements sharp and jerky. It's bad enough that you walk in on him like this - but another to hear Daisuke rattle out your name, the sound breathy and full of want coming from his lips.

He's a poor, flushed mess, eyes wide when he looks up at you - and it's so plainly obvious to the both of you that he didn't call out because he heard you come in.

"I- I can totally explain." Except he really can't, can he, when he has his dick in his hand, just moaning your name literally seconds ago.

Any attempt to backtrack out of the room will be greeted with a hasty, "Oh my god, no, pleasewait!" As he all but tries to leap from his bed, tripping over his pants in his haste to get to you. Daisuke is nothing but determined and will try to talk to you about this, even if you manage to successfully flee.

Choosing to stay has him utterly red-faced, almost ashamed as he rambles through a tirade of, "Okay, so," punctuated by repeated, stumbled phrases before he manages to get out, "So, me calling out your name just now - total accident. Unlessyoudon'twantittobe? But, like, I definitely understand if you want to leave but I'dreallyratheryoustaybecause I really can't stop thinking about you and, - oh hey, is that my gameboy? You can just set it-- that's not important! I just. Really don't want you to leave. Please."

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imissnanami · 3 months ago

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Breeding His Housewife w/ Aizawa S.

KINK!tober w/ Nana Oct. 1 | m.list

MDNI | breeding, talk of pregnancy, p in v, doggy a/n: for that one anon (●3<)

Aizawa Shouta was a simple man who loved to take care of his adorable housewife. Taking care of his wife often meant eating her out till her adorable legs were shaking and his face was dripping with her cum. But recently, a new fantasy has been worming its way into his brain. He can’t get the idea of his wife’s soft tummy all round and her plump breasts full and swollen with milk for his little baby. Bottom line was that Aizawa Shouta wanted to breed his cute little housewife.

Which lead to now. Lucky for him, the only other thing covering your body was a thin pair of panties. Crouching down so he was eye level with your ass, his gaze focused on the flash of yellow that was your panties. The sliver of fabric was disappearing between your puffy lips. Feeling himself twitch in his pants and start to get hard, he reaches down to give himself a squeeze.

Shuffling closer, Aizawa kneels in front of your cheeks before reaching out and gently massaging your thighs. A content sigh escapes you as he begins to speak;

“Feel good, love?”

Smiling your nod your head and hum out a yes.

“Good” his deep voice comes from behind you.

Pressing his thumbs closer into the crease of your ass, he peels them back to expose his favourite pair of panties. The yellow fabric has gotten significantly darker near your entrance. Leaning in, he places an open mouthed kiss on top, his lips quickly finding your clit through the material. A soft moan falls from your lips and you press your hips back. Aizawa hooks his finger around the panties, pulling it to the side. His tongue immediately dips into your core, licking into you and collecting your juices.

Moaning against you as you squirm and whimper for more, Aizawa becomes flooded with an intense need for you. Wanting to hear more of your sweet sounds, he continues to lap at your clit, massaging your entrance and tongue fucking you. He thinks he’s starting to feel lightheaded with the amount of blood flowing to fill out his length. His dick twitching and leaking precum in his pants. The strain becoming uncomfortable and maddening. With a final suck on your clit, he lets you go and sits back on his heels. You hear clothes rustling but feel nothing more.

“Where did you gooo” Whining you begin to turn before a strong hand places itself in between your shoulder blades, pinning you down.

“I got you, don’t move love” Came his raspy voice. Humming and settling in, you shake your hips, teasing him.

He chuckles before placing his other hand on your hip. Pressing down, he tilts your body so your thighs spread and present him a gorgeous view of your cunt. Letting go for a moment, he strokes himself once, twice, before lining up and pushing in.

The second his fat tip popped past your tight ring of muscle, the both of you moan in synch. As each inch presses further in, Aizawa felt hot pleasure climb up his spine. Your wet walls moulding to his shape, caressing and squeezing each dip and vein. When finally he bottoms out, he’s panting because he can feel how snug your cervix is caressing his weeping head and slit. You’re not doing much better, mouth hung open in a silent moan, drooling on the couch cushion.

Bending over your body so his front is pressed to your back, Aizawa begins to pull out, moaning at the feeling, hands gripping your hips. Already pussydrunk, he starts to babble against your neck as he sets a steady pace;

“Fuck, you feel so good...wanna give you my baby”

“Yeah?” You whine, turning your head, trying to get a glimpse of him.

“Yeah...wanna fill you up and watch you-... Fuck...watch you get all roun-hnggg-d” Aizawa presses hot kisses at the top of your spine before gently but firmly biting down. Feeling you immediately clench around him his hips stutter as he groans.

“Fuck, gonna fuck a baby into your cute womb,” His hips pick up speed as he thrusts deeper, jostling your body and making the whole couch move. You start to slip forwards. Suddenly you let out a loud moan. The new angle has him drilling your g spot over and over again. His slit kissing the spongy spot, bullying it into the shape of him. He speaks again,

“Wanna... fuck, wanna make-” His words dissolve into a moan as he feels himself get closer and closer to cuming. His strong hand wedges itself between your thighs and the armrest of the couch. His long fingers worming themselves closer to your clit.

“need you, need you to -fuck- cum so it takes better.”

The pads of his fingers slide against your clit, sending shocks of electricity up your spine. Each swipe of his fingers bring your closer and closer until you’re falling apart, face shoved into the seat cushion. He sinks his teeth further into your skin as your clamp down around him.

But he doesn’t stop there. Ignoring your squirming and weak sounds of protest, his finger contine to abuse your clit. Your cum making them slide all the better. He mumbles from behind you,

“‘Nother”

“Gotta make sure it takes.”

“One more, please, please, please”

Phrase after phrase fall from his lips as his hips drive his length in and out of your tight heat. He could feel your walls flittering and twitching around him. The way your thighs began to close again, he knew you were close to cuming again.

Your mouth hung open in a cute “o” shape, a constant stream of “ah, ah, ah, ah” falling from your lips as he fucked the air out of your lungs. At your sudden keen and the way your pussy began rhythmically milking his cock, Aizawa finally let go. Long ropes of sticky cum coated your womb. His hips stuttered as he moaned your name. His hips bucked weakly as he overstimulated himself, making you got every last drop of his seed.

Finally stilling, he leaned back over your tired and boneless body, his chest against your back. Gently hands brushed your hair to one side. He pressed a kiss to the back, panting and catching his breath.

“You did so good for me, love.” you hummed your approval.

The two of you stayed like that for a moment before he pulled out. You whimpered as you felt the pressure from his length disappear. Before you could protest too much, his strong arms were picking you up and pulling you to his chest. Flipping your positions, he sat down on the couch and settled you on his lap. For the rest of the night he wouldn’t let you get up or do anything, doting on you the whole time. Because after all, his cute little wife needed to sit still so his seed could take. ;)

tags | @plushygrrrl @alpha-mommy69 @roygbivvie @flooftoof

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fawninthesnow · 22 days ago

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𐙚 Gilded Charm: Gladiator II One Shot 𐙚

Lucius Verus x fem reader!

Summary: You, part of a family of visiting royalty, decide to sneak into the jails beneath the colosseum. There, you meet a charming young man, Lucius.

Warnings/Contains: f4m•semi public s3x•dirty talk •mild choking•edging•love bites•pinning •size kink• cock warming• male dominant, not proof read.

Word count: 1.5k

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Lucius sat on the edge of his makeshift bed inside his cell. He pondered as the screams and cheers from the colosseum echoes into the jails beneath. All of it made his heart ache.

He would never admit this to anyone but he was scared of--- “Wake up, you bastards!” The wardens of the jail went around to each cell, banging upon the bars, all but his. “Come eat!” Lucius stood by the door of his cell, sneering at the guards who refused to unlock his. He could only watch as the other men went to the food hall to eat.

“Hey!” He yelled after the wardens, “Hey! I’m still in here!” After being ignored, his sore ego made him sit down. Nothing here was civil, nor equal—not even the portions of slop fed to dying men. He frowned and the hall of cells fell silent.

The man stared at the sword that rested against the wall outside of his cell. He swallowed his saliva before kneeling. His arm slid through one of the bars as he reached for the steel. “C’mon…ehg!” He strained as the seconds passed, his tight muscles sandwiched between the two bars. “Dammit!” He spat.

You wandered down the hall, letting your gown drag behind you. You knew you should not be beneath the colosseum, especially as visiting royalty, but what can keep a girl from feeding her curiosity? Especially when its right in her fingertips. Besides, you were only here for two more nights—now was the time. “Ahg.” You groaned aloud. “Where are all the sweaty men…?” You asked aloud, looking in each cell.

“Eating. You just missed them.” Lucius sat against the wall of his cell, twirling wheat on his index finger.

You curiously wandered down the corridor to the sound of the man. *Oh, my.* “I don’t think so.” The two of you share a smile and you kneel outside his cell. “You are him? Hano. The talk of Rome.”

“My Lady, why are you here alone?” He looked over your royal garb. The handmade designs, and Latin woven into the indigo purple gown. “Hm?”

“I am merely looking around. Is that a crime?”

“Well, no. But if you are looking for fun, I unfortunately cannot help you.” He said softly, shaking the bars of his cell. The man smiled charismatically, attempting to focus on your eyes instead of your breasts held by loose wraps.

You pout. You were not used to getting denied what you wanted,; especially when it came to men. “But...you could die any day.” You express dramatically, his eyes on your hips as your stood.

“Yes, that is true. Have you no husband to mourn me with?”

“No.” You said sadly, bending down towards him. “I will be left to think of you all alone, Hano.”

He stood on the opposite side of his cell. “Forgive me, my Lady. My name is Lucius, yours?”

“[Y/n].” Your hand reached out to him, your fingertips pressed on his biceps, damp with sweat and humidity. They were firm, as were his triceps. “I am not convinced you can carry me.” You teased, caressing his body. He glared at the wall behind you for some reason and you turned around. A bundle of keys on a hook.

You swayed your hips for a moment, thinking. You could get in serious trouble just by talking to this barbarian. On the other hand, you’re already here, step inside at least. When you grabbed the keys and turned back to him, a look of hunger, and desire rid the man’s face. Part of you wanted to leave, go back to your place behind the emperors but it seems they haven’t noticed. “Try the silver one.” He muttered. You turned the key inside the lock and the large door groaned as it opened.

He took your palm, guiding you inside. You were a stark contrast to the environment around, however that did not discourage you from standing against him.

For a moment, he looked away from you, “I could get lashes for this…”

You whisper, trailing your shaking hands down his arms and to his hands. “I will make sure that does not happen.”

He turned back to you, his hand slid into your hair, holding onto the curly texture. “Let us hope so.” You nodded as he pulled your hair back.

“I swear.”

The man turned you around, his erection pressing above your round ass. “Hm,” He rests against your skin, holding your body against his with his strong forearm. “You can take it, it’s alright.” He moved sweaty and curly strands of your hair from your face. “Keep a lookout for anyone, love.”

You took a few deep breaths as he pushed up the fabric of your dress. His fingers rubbed circles on your ass repeatedly. He let out a soft, relaxed sigh as you stayed still. The audacity of this young woman was quite refreshing, to linger outside his cell like a common whore in heat, then come into his cell with her legs spread. This was going to be one of the best nights he’s had in a bit. His breath was hot against your neck and his grip on your body tightened. “Please…please.”

“Won’t I hurt you?” He asked in a rather teasing manner, moving one hand away from your thigh to slowly slide his fingers up to your heat. “Aren’t you excited?” He asks while resting his head against yours. He tucked his head over your shoulder, watching your breasts as the loose dress gave out, undressing you. “Oh my…”

“Lucius, we should not waste time, please.” You begged, pressing your ass onto his hard cock.

Lucius felt the power he had over you, the submission he possessed when he took and held you. He groaned, the scent of you and your perfume…it was enough to make him want your tight cunt around his cock. He could not resist anymore, kissing the back your neck roughly as his hand cuffed the front. You tried to quiet your moans but with every kiss, his right fingers gently grazed your warm and sopping clit. “Keep quiet.” You knew what he was saying was right, you were being too loud! But it was impossible. Your moans turned to whimpers, pathetic whimpers.

“L- Lucius, please, your fingers.”

“You beg a lot, [].” You shut your eyes to the sound of his voice calling out your name. “You like that?” He squeezed the front of your throat, pulling the rest of your clothing off until you stood in only your sandals. You shut your eyes. It was embarrassing being so exposed in the middle of this jail. Anyone could walk in those doors at any point! But he did not care.

Your nipples gently grazed the cold bars of his cell and your knees trembled from the stimulation.

“Aww,” He murmered in your ear, kissing the sensitive skin. Slowly, his thick digits tucked inside of your cunt, making you reel as your sensitive walls took him inside. “You’re a mess.” He said with a chuckle, pressing you tightly between the cell bars and him. There was nowhere for you to wiggle out of his grip. He gently stroked his fingers inside your pussy, pushing on your clitoris as he did so. With each pass, you shut your eyes tighter. “No, no, open your eyes. You need to keep a look out, remember? Do not close your eyes again, am I understood?”

You moaned helplessly, trying to keep yourself focused on the doors. The skin of his warm, and heavy cock pressed on your ass. Precum leaked between your ass. “I, listen, I-“

“Do you want to get fucked or not?”

You swallowed your saliva. If you leave now, you might get caught anyway. “I do.” He circled his tip against the opening to your small cunt. Slowly, he pushed his cock into your pussy. Before you could yelp, he covered your mouth with his large palm. You whimpered behind his palm, looking behind at him.

“You’re ok…” He lets go of your waist and caressed your cheek. “Shhh,” He pulsed inside your cunt as his hips bucked, pushing you into the bars. His gentle hands kept you still as your eyes fluttered closed; cries from your mouth only meeting his palm. “You want to say something?” He grunted out as you soaked his cock, your wetness dripping down to his balls.

Lost in the pleasure of your cunt, he uncovered your mouth and held onto your breast, your soft flesh and hard nipples only made him needy to come. However, he needed to last if he were going to prove a point. He held back his orgasm, turning you over on the cot. You caught your breath for a moment before he slipped back inside your cunt, stretching you as you lay beneath him.

“Mhhh!”

“Shut up,” He pushed a hand over your throat as he continued to stuff you full of his length.

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