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tojisun · 6 months

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the first time that biker!simon suggested that he drives you around on his bike, you were terrified to the point of declining his offer.

“i can’t,” you mumbled, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweater, your lips downturned in genuine disappointment. “‘m sorry.”

you couldn’t meet his eyes, nervous that perhaps you’ve made him upset, but simon just took your hands on his – your small palms fitting snuggly against his gloved ones – and squeezed gently.

“you don’t have to apologize for anything, sweetheart,” simon replied, pulling you close until you were forced to tilt your head up to finally meet his gaze. you rove your eyes over his features, taking in the dimple of his cheeks as he gave you a smile, all boyish and breathtaking.

“don’t worry about it, yeah?” he asked before wrapping you in an embrace after seeing your hesitant nod.

he’s right, you know that. you shouldn’t have worried about it at all, but simon had always loved his bike. had always loved the thrill of the ride; the way the wind whipped against his skin or how the sounds of the road are intensified even with his helmet. you knew it was an irreplaceable experience so of course you truly couldn’t let go of his request.

it sat there on your mind every time he picked you up in his car, his harley tucked in the garage for the day. it curled around the crevices of your heart whenever simon kissed your temple before going out for a night ride with the boys.

“take care, okay?” you would say.

“always,” he would reply, kissing you on the lips again as though sealing his promise before pulling his helmet on and hopping onto his bike. he’d kiss the edges of his gloved knuckles where your initials lay then drive off.

it sat there in the pit of your stomach until one friday afternoon, you tugged onto his sleeve and whispered, “can i hitch a ride?”

the smile on simon’s lips was blinding and you couldn’t help the swoop of giddiness that filled you up when he snatched you from you stood, lifting you up before twirling you around the room.

“you sure you want this?” he asks now, blinking down at you as you fiddle with the zippers of your leather jacket. you look at simon, watching as he twirls your helmet in his hands, and even through his balaclava you can see how his face is pinched in doubt.

(you still can’t believe how simon had stowed away your very own helmet, murmuring how he got it as a valentines gift but decided to hide it when he saw just how hesitant you were when he made the offer.

“i was scared that if you saw i got you y’r own helmet, you would’ve felt pressured to agree to ride with me,” simon whispered, rubbing a thumb at the visor before shooting you a small smile. “stop pouting, love. i know you well, after all.”)

“never surer,” you say with a giggle before showing yourself off to him.

simon hums appreciatively, beautiful eyes narrowing in muted desire. “should see you in leather more, sweet girl. look how beautiful you are.”

you playfully swat at his arm in your embarrassment before standing still when simon lifts the helmet in his hands with a quiet beckoning. you let him fit it on you, your hair gathered in one of his hands and the other gently sliding the helmet on your head. all throughout, you watch the way his eyes crinkle in delight, his touch so reverent, and it makes you choke on the intensity of your love for this beautiful man.

he taps at the top of your visor when he is done, then he is stepping away to prep himself for the ride.

“c’mere, sweetheart,” he says when he is done. “y’got nothin’ to worry about, not w’me here.”

his words burn you, filling you up with encompassing warmth that tickles your cheeks and dips into your neck. you giggle as you shake off the last of your nerves before stepping close, hovering beside his harley, waiting for his instructions.

it wasn’t long or complicated by any chance, but you can see simon’s cautiousness shining through and that eases up your own worries.

there are things for you to remember, he says, things that would ensure your safety and his. and you take him seriously, nodding when he points at his bike and tells you where to prop your feet up, where to sit, where to hold. then, he holds your hands and says that you call all the shots; that if you want to stop, to squeeze his shoulder three times and he’s pulling over.

“this is all about you havin’ fun so don’t push y’rself, alright baby?” simon murmurs, ending his tirade.

then, he takes you for that promised ride.

you two planned to go to the park, just somewhere that’s far enough from your place but still within the expansive stretch of the city road’s smooth asphalt. he asked if you would’ve preferred the beach, but that was a two hour ride and you truly couldn’t handle anything that long. when you told him so, he laughed and kissed the top of your head and said, “then i’ve got the perfect place for you.”

the purr of the machine between your legs is unusual, if not a little bit weird. your grip on simon’s waist must be painful but you don’t have it in you to loosen up, especially not when the speed kicks up to match the traffic. you bite down a squeal when he makes a turn towards the highway, your stomach flipping when you physically feel the bike leaning to your side, almost like it’d fall anytime soon.

of course it doesn’t because simon’s a damn good driver but the adrenaline is coursing through you in waves, surprisingly dousing the fires of your anxiety and replacing it instead with a pooling elation because this feels so fucking good.

you don’t even realize that your hands have loosened their hold onto simon, gripping just enough not to fall. you lift your head from where it’s pressed on his back, tilting just enough to see past his bulk and to take in the dizzying colours of the trickling dawn. the wind is cool even with your jacket, and even though your helmet and visor is obscuring your nose, you take a deep inhale.

fuck. you might just get addicted to this.

the next time that simon swerves to exit the highway, you no longer bite down your squeal, letting it instead rumble from your throat and into the air. simon’s shoulders shake and you realize that he’s laughing, high from your reaction. you couldn’t help it but giggles flutter from your lips, full of the thrill of this experience.

the park comes to view soon and you pout, wanting to keep the drive going. but simon pulls over, parks, and only when the engine stops do you feel the numbness spreading through your legs.

“you doin’ okay over there, sweetheart?” simon asks, remaining seated, unable to stand with you still holding onto him.

“mhmm!” you reply. “i can’t stand up though.”

he barks out a laugh. “oh yeah. that might take a while.” he reaches behind him to rub at the sides of your thighs, massaging whatever he can reach.

you hum, rubbing your hand on his abdomen. “s’fine. ‘m not rushing.” you nuzzle your helmet on his back, falling into silence as you feel yourself unravel from the short experience. you breathe in deeply, the air fogging your visor, and say, “i loved that, si. thank you so much.”

simon’s hold on your thighs gain strength, squeezing gently. “of course, sweetheart.” you hear the happiness in his voice, breathless from his own rush of dopamine. “thank you for trusting me.”

“always, baby,” you reply, squeezing him again, muffling your giggles when you heard his surprised wheeze at the action. “i’ll always trust you.”

(ext.01) (ext.03) // mlist!

#suns.f #biker!simon #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #suns #WHAT HAPPENED? I LITERALLY WAS JUST TRYING TO WRITE A SHORT DRABBLE AGAIN #MY HAND SLIPPED

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joelmillerisapunk · 1 month

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Free Use, Full Plate

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 1,741

Summary: Joel's frustrated after a long day at work and takes it out on your pussy. Basically just pwp

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, assplay, fingering, f!oral receiving, consentual freeuse, breeding & house wife kink, food waste, reader has hair, breasts, and wears yoga pants. Joel calls reader sexy momma.

Notes: Just a life I wanna live, tysm to everyone who voted in this poll this was the winning vote. Ty @saradika-graphics for the divider.

Joel walks through the front door, tired and frustrated after a long day of work. The smell of dinner cooking fills the air, and he sees you bent over, grabbing a pot, your shirt riding up, revealing the small of your back.

You've had an agreement for a while now - free use, where Joel can take what he needs without any hesitation or resistance from you. It's a release for him, a way to let go of the frustrations of the day without taking them out on anything or anyone else.

As he approaches you, he can feel the tension in his body begin to ease. He reaches out and runs his hand over your shoulder, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath his fingers. You don't stop what you're doing, but he can hear your breathing quicken as he continues to touch you.

He pulls your shirt up and over your head, exposing your bare back. He leans down and presses his lips to your skin, feeling you shiver beneath his touch. He unclasps your bra, letting it fall to the floor.

As he cups your breasts in his hands, he can feel himself getting harder. He moves closer, pressing himself against you as he continues to touch you. You're still cooking, but he can hear the soft moans escaping your lips as he kneads your flesh.

He reaches down and undoes his pants, freeing his cock. He slides it between your legs, feeling the heat of your body through your stretchy yoga pants. No matter what was agreed upon Joel never pressured you to dress or look a certain way and it made you feel much more confident in yourself and your relationship. He rocks his hips back and forth, letting himself enjoy the sensation of touching you, even if it's just through your clothing.

“Mmm, Joel, you're home," you say, looking over your shoulder at him with a smile. "How was your day, my love?"

He doesn't answer right away, instead focusing on the feeling of your body against his. He can feel the heat of your pussy through your pants, and he presses himself against you harder, grinding his hips in slow circles.

“Don't wanna think about it. Just tell me what you're makin' baby," he finally says, his voice weak with desire. He slides his hands down your sides, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pants. He pulls them down, exposing your bare ass. He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him, getting on his knees and pushing his face right in there, taking the globes of your ass and making them jiggle onto his cheeks.

You giggle at the feeling, but you can't help feeling aroused as his large nose hits some of your folds as he shoves his face in as deep as he can, almost like he wants to suffocate the bad day away. "Just pasta," you reply, focusing on stirring the sauce so it doesn't burn.

He finally stands up and replies, "Smells delicious baby, just like you." he says, leaning down to press his nose into the crook of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your sent. “Mmm fuckin’ heaven.” He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back against him as he continues to grind his hips.

You let out a soft moan as he nips at your shoulder. You can feel yourself getting wetter, your body responding to his touch, but you try your best not to let dinner burn. He reaches down and slides a finger inside you, feeling how wet you are. He groans at the sensation.

"Joel," you say, your voice trembling with pleasure. "I'm almost ready to serve dinner."

"That's alright, love," he says, his voice strained with desire. "I can wait."

You turn around in his embrace to kiss him, but he stops you, his eyes darkening. He pats the countertop beside the stove. "C'mon, get up here darlin'."

"But the food." You point at the pan.

"You know, I could eat this whole dinner and still not be satiated in the right way. Now get on the damn counter, you sexy momma. Gonna fill you up real good.”

With those words, you scramble to the other side of the stove, sitting on the countertop. He starts rubbing his hands across your naked thighs, slowly working his way up until his hands reach the center of your chest.

“Come closer, sweetheart,” he whispers. “Wanna taste you.” He leans close then lowers his head and bites the tip of your nipple. Your nipples start to erect instantly, and your core feels tight. “Fuckin’ perfect.” He gets lower so his face is right between your legs.

Your stomach clenches as he kisses your inner thigh. “Joel…”

His eyes look up into yours. He pulls his mouth away just enough from your skin so he can talk, "Worry 'bout the sauce, I'm busy havin' my appetizer." His tongue swipes your clit, licking it gently before he begins sucking on the skin. You let out a soft sigh when his warm tongue touches your clit once more. You try to tend to the dinner currently cooking but it's near impossible to do so with him rubbing and sucking at you. “Keep stirring," he adds with a playful smirk. He slips two fingers between your legs, sliding them into your folds and circling one slowly before he plunges two more in. He starts moving faster. Your orgasm starts building in your belly.

"Mmmm, Joel..." you whine, grabbing onto the edge of the counter, digging your nails into the wooden surface. "I'm gonna come…" You start thrusting against his hand.

Joel stands up, not letting you finish and takes a step back, his eyes roaming over your naked body. "You're so fucking beautiful, baby, I'm the luckiest man," he says, his voice loaded with desire. He reaches out and runs his hand over your breast, tweaking your nipple between his fingers.

You gasp at the sensation, your body already on edge from his earlier ministrations. "Joel, I need to finish dinner," you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

"I know, darlin," he says, his hand sliding down your stomach and between your legs. He starts rubbing your clit in slow circles, making you moan with pleasure. "I won't let you burn it."

He helps you off the counter and turns you around so you're facing the stove, your naked ass pressed against his hips. He reaches around you and grabs a pan of garlic bread, placing it in the oven. "Now, let's get back to work," he says, his voice low and seductive.

He slides his cock between your legs, the head of his shaft pressing against your wet folds. He starts rocking his hips back and forth until he slides inside you, fucking you slowly and deeply. "Keep stirring, baby," he says, his lips pressed against your ear.

You cry out as he hits that sweet spot inside you, your body trembling with pleasure. "Joel, I'm gonna come," you gasp, your fingers tightening around the spoon.

"Not yet," he commands, his hand reaching around to rub your clit.

He starts fucking you harder, his hips slapping against your ass. You can feel yourself getting close, your orgasm building deep in your belly. "Joel, please," you beg, your voice trembling.

He reaches up and grabs your hair, pulling your head back so he can kiss your neck. "Uh-uh, you wait till I say so," he growls, his teeth scraping against your skin.

Joel continues to thrust into you, his pace steady and relentless. You can feel your orgasm right on the brink, your body feels like it might explode "Joel, please," you whimper, your fingers tightening around the spoon you were supposed to be stiring the sauce with. "Joel, I can't, m'gonna come please," you gasp, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

“Yes you can, baby just a little more,” he says, pulling your hair and kissing the side of your head, holding onto you tightly. “Wanna fill you up, make you round and beautiful.” He slams into you, his balls hitting your ass. You feel juices dripping from his length, mixing in with your own fluids as they drip down your leg and onto the floor. He pushes his hips in harder and harder, causing you to cry out as you feel the intensity of his hard, thick flesh hitting your walls.

You can feel your heart racing as well, your mind clouded with lust and pleasure. "Oh fuck, oh god, Joel,” you pant, squeezing your eyes shut and gripping the edge of the countertop for dear life as you feel your climax building. “Oh Joel! I'm coming'!" You cry out as your body convulses against him. You hear him release a long, loud, gutteral moan, releasing into you.

As you come down from your high, he presses his forehead against your shoulder, breathing hard as he lets go of your hips. He finally pulls out, his cock glistening, soaked with your juices. He turns you around pulling you in close. "I think dinner's ready," he says, smirking.

You laugh and wrap your arms around his waist, "I think you're right," you say, your hands running over his chest. You open the oven door to be met with disappointment. The garlic bread is burnt to a crisp, and so is the sauce.

Joel walks up behind you, "you orderin' or am I?"

You both can't help but chuckle at the situation and decide to order pizza, knowing it's a quick and easy solution. Joel wraps his arms around you as he gives you his phone to search for a local pizza place online, placing the order together.

Once the order is placed, you turn around in his arms, looking up at him playfully pouting, "I guess we'll have to settle for pizza tonight."

Joel leans down and presses a gentle kiss to your lips, whispering, "I'd eat pizza every night if it meant I could come home to you like this."

#joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #dom!joel miller

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tiannasfanfic · 5 months

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Not the Wavemother

Astarion x Reader (Fluff)

| Astarion Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: Astarion notices your discomfort while you’re trying on your new clothing.

Rating: General Audiences

Author Note: Gender neutral Reader/Tav, they/them pronouns (if any). Spawn!Astarion x Reader/Tav. No class or race for Reader is mentioned in story. No physical description of Reader either, just a general description of how the dress fits. Mild hurt/comfort for Reader with fluffy ending.

CW: Uncomfortable clothes; uncomfortable attention from said clothes; mild innuendo at the end.

Word Count: 9,87

It had taken some convincing, but after a little bit of badgering, everyone finally talked you into trying on the outfit the Wavemother had given you.

You had been very hesitant, took your time changing and only came out after some encouragement from Karlach and Shadowheart.

Everyone fell silent though when you stepped out of your tent.

You looked breathtaking.

The dress was cut within an inch of your life, the fabric hugging close to your body like a second skin. The stooped neckline was exceptionally low, sitting just below your navel, while the slits up both sides of the skirt came just below your hips, showing a considerable amount of skin.

Had Astarion’s heart still beat, he was quite sure it would’ve stopped right then.

Even though he had seen you fully naked, he couldn’t help but stare as you slowly twirled around, letting everyone see the dress on you from all angles. A warm, tingling feeling spread through his abdomen and his stomach felt like it was full of butterflies. It unsettled him at first until he realized what it was.

Desire.

It wasn’t a feeling he was accustomed to yet. While it wasn’t entirely unwelcome with you, it still felt odd to want someone in a physical manner. Before you, he couldn’t remember the last time he was with someone to fulfill his own needs, much less with someone he desired.

But after staring at you for a while, he noticed something was off.

You weren’t holding yourself like you normally would. While you were standing tall and proud, your shoulders were stiff, your posture just slightly hunched. You took everyone’s compliments and comments graciously, a polite smile on your face that was devoid of most emotion.

Suddenly, it dawned on him what it was he was seeing and the warm tingle in his stomach was replaced with a cold knot.

You were severely uncomfortable.

While you were no stranger to tight clothing and even occasionally showed some skin around camp on the warm nights, your normal choices didn’t garner much, if any, attention. Now everyone was looking at you appraisingly and showering you with praise, even Mizora.

And, with each compliment, your expression withdrew a little bit more.

By the time you turned to Astarion, your face was still a polite mask, but the glint you normally had in your eyes wasn’t there.

“You’re bring quiet, Astarion,” you stated, your voice politely neutral. “What do you think?”

It took him one second to decide how best to proceed.

He took a step back and took a long look at you, but it was a thoughtful gaze, as if you were a complicated trap he was about to disarm rather than someone intensely attractive to him.

“Honestly, it doesn’t look very functional to me,” he finally stated, a critical tone to his voice as he pried his gaze up from the dress to your eyes. “It is very cute, but one arrow and you’re done for, darling.”

Astarion’s words had an immediate effect. The stiffness in your posture eased some and your face slightly relaxed.

“Ah, c’mon, Astarion! That’s all you’re going to say?” Karlach said, then she clapped you on the back. “Tav is smokin’ hot right now!”

There was a slight wrinkle in your forehead, so slight anyone would’ve missed it had they not been paying close attention.

Fortunately for Astarion, he was, and already knew how to proceed.

“They are very hot, yes, but I’d much prefer them alive,” he stated, then met your gaze again. “Now, darling, why don’t you go get yourself changed before you catch a cold.”

Everyone booed at him as you hurried back into your tent, Halsin even called him a party pooper, but he didn’t care. He had caught a glimpse of the relief on your face just before you turned to go and that was all that mattered to him.

After changing back into your camp clothes, you were back to your normal self, rejoining everyone at the campfire in a pleasant mood. You took your normal place next to Astarion and slipped his arm around your back. You leaned into his side, your head resting on his shoulder.

Now that the dress was put away, everyone seemed to forget about it and began settling into their nightly routines, leaving you two to watch the fire.

You both were quiet for a while, just watching the flames and enjoying each other’s company, but after a few minutes, you broke the silence.

“I just realized something,” you said.

“Hmm?” he hummed. “And what would that be, darling?”

“You never said what you thought of the dress,” you said, then tilted your head to look up at him. “And you were staring pretty hard, too.”

Astarion looked down at you and carefully studied your expression, looking for any signs of discomfort about the topic. When he didn’t see any on your face, only a little bit of anticipation at his response, he knew you were okay with him speaking freely.

“You looked absolutely stunning, my love,” he said, softly kissing you on the forehead before dropping his voice to a soft murmur only you could hear. “In fact, one day when we have more private accommodations, I certainly wouldn’t mind if you ever wanted to wear it again just for me.”

You blinked up at him in surprise, your cheeks heating up in a blush at his implication. While you were far from a blushing virgin, it wasn’t hard for him to make you a bit flustered.

“Oh really?” you said, then smiled playfully up at him after he nodded. “In that case, I could possibly be persuaded to wear it again.”

He smiled gleefully and kissed you on the forehead again, which elicited a soft giggle from you, before resting his cheek on the top of your head as he returned his gaze back to the fire.

#astarion #astarion fluff #astarion x reader #astarion x you #astarion x tav #astarion fanfic #astarion imagine #astarion oneshot #astarion blurb #astarion drabble #astarion romance #astarion angst #astarion acunin #spawn!astarion #bg3 fanfiction

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lyneira · 1 year

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♡ leeches and lost puppies ♡

-> when the genshin men act clingy towards you

fluff with a little bit of angst!

lyneira's 1.2k milestone event

They're the type to be clingy when...

...they get jealous

Scaramouche, Childe, Heizou, Kaeya

If they see anyone attempting to get close to you or looking at you in a more-than friendly manner, then OH these boys will be HANDSY. (After dealing with the offender) They'll leave their hand on your shoulder, your waist, or your hip, and pull you in close to them, and hold you like this for as long as they are with you. They won't be afraid to plant kisses up and down your neck, shoulder, and jaw while he's at it too.

He'll do anything to tell others to back off because you're already taken by him.

...they've missed you so much

Alhaitham, Ayato, Tighnari, Albedo, Xiao

"Clingy" isn't really in their vocabulary, but during the times you've been away for a while, they'll show how much they've missed you by almost never leaving your side, following you around like a lost puppy.

Going to the kitchen for a snack? Well, they're suddenly hungry and will go with you too. Going out to get some groceries? He'll offer to come with you help you carry the bags. Reading a book? He'll grab one to read and sit beside you. Even if you two aren't speaking and are simply doing your own things, he'll want to be wherever you are. Your presence alone is enough to make him happy.

I think they'd also give you more kisses than usual as well: kissing you when you arrive home, kissing you before he leaves, or simply kissing you out of nowhere to enjoy the look of surprise on your face.

...they want comfort

Kaveh, Cyno, Diluc

After a long day of work, he'll come home and would immediately go to hug you from behind, clinging to your waist as he nuzzles his face into your back. Hugging you like this eases him, and with your warm hand holding his arms wrapped around you and leaning into his touch, all of his stress would begin to wash away.

Kaveh would totally be the type to vent about his day, then leaving kisses up and down your back as he tells you how much you ease his mind and how much he adores you. His adoration will only skyrocket if you choose to turn him around and return his flurry of kisses. At this point, he'd come to an epiphany; Instead of drowning in his sorrows, he'd rather drown in you.

On the other hand, I see Cyno and Diluc being the type to hug you in silence, simply relishing the feeling of you in his arms and calming himself as he listens to your heartbeat.

They'd stay like this for a while. You are his source of comfort, both physically and emotionally, so of course he'd cling onto you when he's had a rough day.

...they think of ever losing you

Dainsleif, Zhongli

When they think of how there will eventually come a time where you will no longer be there with him, it pains him extraordinarily. He doesn't want to think of such thoughts, yet, he knows that he must understand the reality of it.

Like the previous category, he'll also hug you out of nowhere, embracing you so tightly that you could feel the pounding of his heart against his chest and deeply inhaling your scent that he so adores. He'll keep you in his arms for the longest time without saying a word. There would be no need for words to tell you that he desperately needed to hold you, to shield you in his arms and protect you, wishing that his embrace could keep you safe and sound with him for the eternity he'll have to live for.

He doesn't want to let you go, so let him enjoy the remaining time he has with you.

...they crave your affection

Baizhu, Gorou, Kazuha, Thoma

They'd be a shy and romantic type of clingy, wanting more of your touch, wanting to be held by you, and wanting more of your love, but being hesitant to ask for it directly. They wouldn't want you to see them as needy and end up warding you off as a result.

So they'll attempt to be subtle with their desire, extending his hand out you when you're in a crowd, brushing off a strand of hair that may be in your face, gently holding the small of your back as you two walk, and finding any other opportunity to touch you in a helpful or kind manner for as long as he can.

It's when you finally return his affections will he feel free to be more forward with his own. When you'd place your on hand on his, or cup his cheek, he will immediately melt into your touch, holding your hand tighter or taking your cupped hand and kissing your palm.

Play with their hair, dance your fingers on his skin, caress his cheeks, do anything to show your affection for him and he'll fold so easily for you, further begging you for it by reciprocating your actions and maybe even more 🤭

they're just clingy IN GENERAL

Venti, Itto

They hold a lot of love for you and it SHOWS. It'll be a complete combination of all categories up to this point. If you leave the room, it doesn't matter where you're going, he's going with you. He wants to be close to you and will want to have his hands on you nearly the entire time. Heck, he will literally cling onto you like a leech, clinging onto your arm or waist. He's not planning on leaving your side or letting you go anytime soon.

Brace yourself because he'll also talk your ear off at the same time too, either by talking about some random thing, complimenting you in the weirdest of ways, or telling you the cheesiest of pick-up lines.

Like, I see Itto suddenly pulling out an onikabuto from his pocket to gift you, saying, "My love for you is like this Onikabuto- big and impossible to break 😌". On the other hand, I think Venti would be much smoother and Shakespearean with his words tbh lol

You'll also catch them staring at you for long periods of time and when you call them out on it, they'll simply respond, "Can you blame me? It's hard not to stare when you're just too beautiful" and would give you a cheeky wink.

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onelittlespiral · 8 months

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FML:Relax

From the moment I arrived, I felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb. I had come on vacation to kick back for a few days and get some action, but the resort had nearly no women and was instead populated with almost all men. They seemed like nice guys when I talked to them, certainly my kind of guys with how jacked they were. Or at least I thought so.

“Hey cutie, wanna come spend some time with daddy?”

“A newbie! Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle and sweet with you.”

“You looking to top or bottom?”

I realized I must have come on the Gay Days, and the men there were not shy about coming on to me. I tried to politely excuse myself whenever they turned the topic to sex. I spent a lot of time at the pool trying to just relax and have a good time, but it was starting to tick me off.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you here before.”

A man came and sat next to me. He was a scruffy guy, tanned and huge like most of the rest of them. The scent of sunscreen and BO rolled off him. His arms were wrapped in some nerdy tattoos but their size clearly showed he worked out hard. If he wasn’t here this week I would assume him to be a good pick for a gym bud.

“Yeah, first time. Didn’t realize I booked…uh…this week. Not really my scene.”

Something in his demeanor changed. It was hard to describe, but I felt a lot more at ease. He leaned over and began whisper to me,

“If I’m being honest. It isn’t much for me either. But fuck these gay guys know how to party. They’ve got just about anything you could want to take, and basically just pass the shit around. You ever actually tried poppers? I was fucked up bro.”

Maybe it was finally meeting another straight guy but I began relaxing.

He continued, “I got some stashed if you want to swing by and try some shit out.”

Maybe this vacation wouldn’t be such a wash.

I stopped by his room later that afternoon. He greeted me at the door and invited me in as he promised to show off the goods. The room was trashed. The floor was strewn with dirty shirts, shorts, and jockstraps. Shot glasses and beers were stuck to the tables. The bed was drenched in sweat. I stepped in and took a seat on the couch, cautions to avoid the mess. He sat down next to me.

“So, what have you got?”

“You now babe,” he said, throwing his arm in the air.

“Whaaaa…haaa” I started before my brain was afloat.

I slowly leaned forward, drawn in by the thick musk that radiated from his pit. I tried to resist but soon my nose was pressed against it as his sweat filled my brain. I tried to pull back but he rested his arm against the back of my head, pinning me as my brain shut down on the fumes. It wasn’t long before my tongue lolled out of my mouth.

“There you go. Relax. Good boy.”

Good boy. It echoed in my brain, bouncing till it was the only thought left. I quivered in anticipation as I continued to drink in his scent and let his hair tickle my face.

“Yeah, lap it up big boy. This is right where you belong. It was designed just for you, to trap guys and help them fit in a bit more.”

What did he mean by that? But as he told me to lap it up, it was no longer good enough to just smell. I gave a hesitant lick. It only took one as his sweat swam across my mind. All functionality shut down as I worshipped that pit. As I did, I began to feel a change. Deep within an itch, a need developed. A need to be desired by this man… no. To be desired by men. Any who would have me. I felt a new power flow through me, a revitalized energy and strength. He pulled my dumbstruck face out of his pit and gave my hair a quick tousle. His hand glided down my cheek to my chin, and with a firm flick of his wrist pulled my lips to his. He pressed my face to his in a deep kiss as new memories filled my mind. Memories of long nights dancing and drinking at bars. Days working out getting shredded before hitting the sauna for some fun. Of pride parades and glitter in my beard. The longer he kissed me the more I felt myself grow completely comfortable in his arms. I belonged here, with all the hottest guys living it up for a week at the resort. I had been coming here for years to show off, party hard, and fuck into the early morning. My old self was being flushed away, leaking out of my cock, while the new personality filled in the gaps.

My body began to change where his hands brushed over my body. Arms swelled as biceps grew to mounds on my arms. Pecs hung heavy with muscle. Thighs and legs sent slow rips through my shorts until they had burst through, leaving my swelling cock to fight the jockstrap underneath. Feet inched across the floor as my toes curled from the strain. Every inch writhed beneath his touch. He pulled me back to inspect me.

“Damn you’re turning out well, some of my finest work.”

I mumbled in agreement, still stuck in a state of ecstasy as I felt new power surging through me. “Time to seal the deal.”

He slid his jock down, and the full force of his sweat and musk sent my brain swimming. I couldn’t resist as he slid his cock down my open throat, balls deep, and began face fucking me. As his bush filled my nostrils, pre slid down my throat in a steady stream. I felt warm all over, as a deep tan set in. I had come to this resort for years and loved sunbathing and showing off my muscles. The heat persisted, turning to a sweat, the sweat turning to a deep funk. It was the same smell invading my mind and body as he continued to thrust, deeper as my body adjusted to years of sucking men off. It felt like no surprise as a dusting of hair covered my pecs, then pushed down my stomach before my shaved down bush exploded. My pits filled in to better capture my own smell, and keep me just a little high on my own supply.

“Fuck yeah little bro, you’re gonna be so good out there.”

He slipped a hat over my head, and my mind filled with a new purpose. To kick back at this resort and fucking party. To feel pride in who I was and become one of the community. But, most importantly, to grow the tribe and bring more guys into the fold. I felt his cock tense in my mouth as my mind slowed down to accept my place as a gay god, to worship my bros and be worshiped. As thick ropes shot down my throat, I felt strong. I smelt rank. And I was fucking home.

The next day, a new guy showed up to the resort. Skinny, shy, out of place. I came over to talk with him.

“First time here, bro?”

“Yeah, not quite sure I belong.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. Throwing my arm behind my head. My musk caught his attention as his eyes began glazing over, “Why don’t I show you around?”

“Ye…yeah…yeah.”

“Don’t worry,” his face was soon resting in my pit, and I saw his muscles twitch with anticipation, “you’re gonna fit right in bro.”

#hypnosis #bro #male transformation #straight to gay #musk #fml

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phantomarine · 9 months

Text

Clam's Quick Tips for Starting Your Very First Webcomic

Howdy! Here are the three bits of advice I tend to give people who ask me about getting into webcomic-making. Maybe they can help you jump into the fray with a little less fear.

1) Make Your First Chapter a Pilot Episode

You will be told by webcomic veterans to start with a short, simple comic idea first - which is wise - but if all you can think about is your big magnum opus, then you might as well hop in, right? Otherwise you'll just be glancing back at the other cooler project forever.

But if you can't start with a small simple story, start on a small, simple part of that larger story. Your first chapter should be a snapshot of the main conflict - show us a simple scene with few characters, ease us in slowly, keep things clear and focus on emotion/impact/clarity. Get the audience to care by offering something easily digested, but full of promise.

Once you're done with that 'pilot' chapter, and you're feeling more comfortable with the whole comic process, you can open the gates and show us the larger world. At that point, you'll be way more ready.

2) Simplify Your Art Style For Your Own Sanity

Always try to make your webcomic's art style as simple as possible - the standard rule is to use only 75% of your artistic skill for every comic page you make. Otherwise you will burn out quickly and terribly.

But you also need to be PROUD of your art style. If you're really feeling itchy, add a couple bells and whistles to your style so you can look at the finished page and say "Yeah, looks cool." You'll find the right balance the more you draw.

Also, don't be afraid to change your art style as you go along. Ultimate consistency is often impossible in webcomics anyway - so embrace your desire to try new things, streamline your work, whatever you feel needs to happen to be happiest. Sometimes the coolest part of reading a webcomic is noticing that style change - so don't hesitate to embrace it!

3) Resist the Reboot! RESIST!

The curse/blessing of drawing the same things over and over is that you'll inevitably get better at drawing those things. The trouble comes when you look back at old stuff and start thinking "Damn, I could draw that way better now."

You must recognize that this feeling never goes away. Not after a hundred pages. Not after three hundred. Not after a thousand.

I think everyone should be allowed one soft reboot for their first webcomic. Redraw some panels that bother you. Change up some dialogue if it doesn't make sense with your new story ideas. Do maintenance, basically. One of the beauties of webcomics is that they can be easily edited, without reprinting a whole book or remaking a whole game.

But if the ultimate purpose of a webcomic is to tell a story, then constant reboots will just be retelling the same story - slightly better each time, but the same at its core. We've heard it before. Most audiences would rather you save your strength and just keep going, rather than circling back year after year and going "Wait wait wait! I'll do it better this time."

Reboot early, not often, and only when you absolutely must! You're a storyteller, and you're constantly getting better at telling your story. Don't be ashamed of it - look back how much ground you've covered, and keep walking!

---

That's a good start. Happy webcomicking - don't be afraid to jump in, but be prepared to learn a lot very quickly. And if this advice doesn't work for you or adhere to how you did it, that's absolutely fine - webcomics are diverse by nature, and so are their creation processes. Feel out what works best for you, and good luck!

#phantomarine #webcomic #advice #just talking #writing

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yandere-sins · 8 days

Note

How'd you think Yandere luci and Yandere Mammon would deal with a S/O who's hiding the fact they're a virgin and is always trying to avoid intercourse by excuses like pretending to be asleep etc because they don't want to lose their virginity to them? (ALSO BTW, I LOVE YOUR WORK. like your work is super amazing and detailed <3 best yan writer)

Thank you for reading my writing!! I am so glad you enjoy it ^-^

And thank you for requesting! ♥

Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Lucifer

♡ As if he doesn't know. You might be able to fool another human, and maybe someone as dense as Mammon, but you can't fool Lucifer. He had already noticed you shying away from his touch, the goosebumps and sudden tension that would go through you every time he touched you (rather innocently even). It's like you expected something to happen and are unsure how to react. Maybe you don't want it, perhaps you do, but your signals aren't very clear, and that makes him suspect you.

♡ He could blame it on some form of trauma that he doesn't know about, but he'd expect your reactions to be a bit more violent or fueled by rejection if that was the case. Instead, they are bashful and tense, with a taste of sweetness and innocence that Lucifer quite likes. And he caught Asmo giving you a knowing look once while you seemed even more hesitant to approach the 5th oldest brother; you made it much too easy for Lucifer to figure out what kind of game you were playing.

♡ So, he'll play along for a while since it's now in his control. You might not be a well-aged drop of lust yet, but delaying the inevitable is going to do you both well. Riling you up, getting you to let down your guard, and leaving you hot and bothered will benefit Lucifer greatly. Seeing your walls crumble will be enough to satisfy him for a while, so he won't have to put his hands on you prematurely. You may simmer on the knowledge that he'll take your virginity at some point, be sensitive, and get confused at times over his actions. Maybe even fantasize what it'll be like. Will he be rough? Gentle? Ease you into it or brutal steal your innocence like he did with your freedom? Letting your thoughts and desires run wild, no matter how much you want to deny them, will almost guarantee that once you are ready, you'll be at a point where you'll crawl to him, begging for release. And Lucifer likes that idea very much.

♡ Things he'll do to chip away at your defense include but aren't limited to spooning up against you at night, his cock perfectly pressed against your body but not grinding against you. Just letting you know it's there and ready for you and allowing you to get used to it but never letting you scoot away. The same is true with his hand placement at night, his palm at your lower abdomen, just resting there, and his fingertips slipping beneath your clothes to leave feathery trails of allurement. So close yet far enough away, teasing, playful, promising. The warmth it emits seeping into your body, heating you up, only for him to retract and leaving you hanging. Sometimes, his fingers will play with your clothes, letting you know just how agile they are. Your mind will do the rest as you can imagine the chaos and pleasure they can leave in their wake. He wears human pheromones suited to your taste, and he'll flirt with you, complimenting you even when you feel vulnerable, letting you know how receptive he is to taking the next step. It's only a matter of time until you cave, but Lucifer will do everything to make it the hardest few days of your life.

Mammon

♡ Mammon is indeed a little dense. He might feel a bit off-put if you reject his advances repeatedly, but he doesn't see anything wrong with it the first few times. There is absolutely no subtlety in his advances, his kisses bordering on orgasm-territory already when he's in the mood, his hands greedy as is fitting for his title. You might be forced into these affections, but even you can't help but squirm beneath him. It only gives him more incentive to take it up a notch when he's just so passionate, your lips constantly bruised, and your neck marked by his teeth.

♡ So it becomes very frustrating and confusing for him when you kick and scream the moment he gets a bit more intimate. He'd like to respect your choice despite him not giving you one when it comes to whether or not you'll be with him for the rest of your life. Mammon likes to think he's gracious like that. But he thought you two were on the right path to taking the next step, yet you keep rejecting him. To be fair, he's been very clear that he wants you for a long time: Grinding against you, fondling your body even though he should be concentrating on other things. You've caught him jerking off next to you, moaning your name quite a few times even though you pretended to be asleep. And if that isn't clear enough, he's been nagging and sometimes even begging on his knees for you to give him some of that sweet body of yours to fuck. You've rejected him all the same, so for Mammon, it hints at something being seriously wrong, but he can't quite figure it out himself.

♡ It takes some... advice from more experienced individuals for him to come to a conclusion. Levi thinks perhaps he smells bad, Satan questions why anyone would want to be with Mammon in the first place, and Beel asks if maybe you're too hungry for any of that stuff and if Mammon fed you properly. But hey, at least Asmo is useful, hinting at the possibility of you feeling... insecure. Maybe you're too "inexperienced" (Mammon vehemently denies the possibility of you being a virgin, cause duh, look at you! Stunning, gorgeous, and he will totally kill anyone who touched you before him, but clearly, with how seductive and sexy you are, he can't possibily your first). So Mammon deducts Asmo is right; you're just nervous because you'll be with a great guy like Mammon!

♡ Worry not; he decides to show you the ropes! ... Literally. You might stutter and reject his ideas of getting close and personal, but Asmodeus had a handy bag of goodies for Mammon before he left. Even though Mammon is at his limit, he tries to keep it together for you, tying you up and making you watch him jerk off, reciting all the things he wants to do to you, how he'll do it, and showing you how insane you are driving him. There won't be any more nights to hide away after that, as Mammon will demonstrate to you exactly how worthy you are to lay with him. But at least he'll ease you into it, that's something, right? You'll get the full 7 hells of orgasms from his mouth to fingers to toys. Forcing you to rely on him as he takes away your senses, like sight, and the freedom to move as you please. By the time he finally gets to wet his cock on you, you'll be already too well-fucked to care, and if that isn't devotion, what is?

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targaryen-dynasty · 7 months

Note

alrightie bestie, I find the slutty sleepover a lovely idea!

with this being said, I'd love if possible the gif number eleven with aemond and if possible as kinks: breeding kink and size kink!

(I'd love canon era but I am fine with whatever you come up with)

alrightie I am off and have a spooky time!

KINKTOBER SLEEPOVER.

No. 2 -> GIF.

Aemond Targaryen x fem!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MINORS DNI; p in v, breeding kink, breeding, pregnancy kink, size kink, size difference, mentions of reader's appearance

WORDS: 1.5 K

NOTES: My beloved angsty, thank you so, so much for this request! That gif is my favorite. Hope you like this!

Moments like these always made you terribly aware of how much taller, and stronger, your husband was than you, whereas that realization made you incredibly aroused. Where Aemond had you captured between his tall frame and the stone wall before, forcing you to meet his gaze by craning your neck up to look at him, you now were pinned between him and your marital bed.

But Aemond had not always been like that. There was a time where he was hesitant to take you whenever he desired, whenever he needed you.

In the early stages of your marriage, it almost seemed as if the young prince was intimidated by you, afraid to touch you, but perhaps he just had been incredibly embarrassed by his lack of hands-on experience with the act of bedding his partner.

He hadn’t told you about the bad experience he had when he turned three-and-ten, his older brother did to make fun of him, and your heart ached for the poor man you had married when you had heard the story.

So, you made it your duty to show him the true sensuality of fucking, and, surprisingly, it didn’t take too long for him to relax, his confidence growing rather quickly.

But something at supper with his family must have aroused him to the point of no return, and you partly blamed it on the slowly growing swell of his older sister’s middle.

And boy, never before had he given into his desires so easily. While he had taken you like a man starved a hundred of times before, the man that thrusted into you now came closer to a wildling that lived beyond the wall, than the dutiful second son of King Viserys Targaryen.

Even before the door to your chambers was closed completely, Aemond‘s lips were on yours, claiming them while he herded you against the wall. His nimble fingers clawed at your gown, and, once it fell to the ground, your smallclothes, a tad too eagerly undoing the laces of your bodice and everything that lay beneath.

You had to physically stop him from easing into you right then and there, and even when you were allowed to climb onto the bed, Aemond was very adamant to mound you as fast as possible.

‘On your hands and knees,’ he had ordered, and when you weren’t quick enough to follow his command, he had used his hand to nudge you into the position he desired. Despite the urgency he had held in him, he was gentle, but there just was more determination in him than usual.

You had done as he told you to, presenting him your slick womanhood while he stripped himself of his breeches and braises, not caring much if the tunic hung still from his shoulder. He had positioned himself behind you, the tip of his cock dragging up and down your slick folds, until it eventually breached your core with a sigh of relief leaving his parted lips.

‘Tonight is the night I shall put a babe in you,’ he had panted, his voice hoarse despite not really doing anything. The thought of getting pregnant had so often crossed your mind, especially when you had heard the news of Rhaenyra being pregnant with hers and Daemon’s first child, and then the second followed. And when Helaena announced her pregnancy, the longing became more and more apparent.

And it seemed your husband felt exactly the same.

The topic had felt too delicate for you to approach it for the longest of time, hence your lack of conversation regarding it, but the threads of your husband’s restraint had obviously snapped, and you knew it was time to give him an heir.

When the ministrations of Aemond’s hips became too harsh, too rough, your small frame toppled forwards, landing stomach first on the bed. But his thrusts didn’t stop at that, and the dragon behind you merely moved to straddle your thighs, until eventually the weight of his body collapsed on you and hugged you like a mantle, pinning you down beneath him.

“Gods,” you moaned, shushed by Aemond’s lips on your temple. “I can not wait to see your belly swell with my child,” he rasped into your ear to which you just whimpered. “I want everyone at court to know. I want them to look at you and know who is fucking you every night, to whom you belong.”

Your hands clawed the linen beneath your sweaty frame, and Aemond was quick to bring both of his own to put them over yours, his hand big enough to cover them whole. He interlocked his fingers with yours, grasping them mayhaps even a bit too tightly.

“Do you like that?” he asked, keeping his lips against your skin, and you could hear his smug grin from miles away, you didn’t even have to look at him.

The warmth of his body, his weight and scent clouded your every being, and even though his thrusts weren’t as fast as before anymore, they still were determined and harsh enough to render you speechless, your mind and body completely claimed by him.

You were not exactly frail or petite, but he was so much bigger than you that it didn’t even matter. You felt safe and blessed in his hold, fucked like a wildling, but loved with such intensity you felt like the most desired lady in the realm.

“Y-Yes,” you whimpered beneath him, releasing one gasp after the other when his cock repeatedly brushed the spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. “I-I want… need you, husband,” you moaned, heat building inside of your belly. As you took in a deep breath, you turned your head slightly to chase his lips for a kiss, which he eagerly granted you.

Your lips only parted to release breathy groans and whimpers, but your faces stayed close together. “Want a babe so, so much, husband,” you whimpered against his lips, “you will give me one, yes?”

At your words, you could feel his body tense with desire, his cock twitching at the thought putting a child in you. “Yes,” he panted, “as many children as you wish. Sons and daughters both, I swear.”

One of his hands released yours to snake beneath your body, aiming for your sensitive pearl. Though the linen beneath had granted you at least a bit of friction, it wasn’t enough to bring you to your peak. His thumb circled over the little bud, coated with your arousal, and the thread in your belly was close to snapping.

“Let me give you an heir. Put a babe in me, husband.”

It appeared that your words granted him a new-found vigor that had you gasping, the pace of his hips increasing. “My seed, my heart, ‘tis all yours,'' he groaned, “you want it, wife? You want my seed?”

You could only whine at the question, and started to roll your hips against his hand and hips, creating some extra friction that not only fed your own pleasure, but his, too. You came with a cry of his name, and if you wouldn’t be lying on your stomach already, you surely would have toppled over at the force of your peak.

As you clenched around him like a vice, with your small frame trembling beneath his, Aemond released a strangled moan, his own peak being milked out of him by your convulsing walls.

Both your bodies moved on their own accords, rutting and rocking in rhythm to make sure that your act bore fruit. Only when Aemond felt as if there was not one drop of his seed left inside of him, he stopped his ministrations, the hand that had circled your pearl coming up to seize your hips, stilling them.

He pressed his lips to the side of your face, his heavy, erratic breathing fanning over your flushed and sweaty skin. In that moment, you felt whole. His weight pinned you down, keeping you grounded, and the softness of his gestures comforted your tumbled mind. “Are you certain it worked?” you whispered, the matter suddenly seeming far too delicate again.

Aemond braced himself on his hands, but was careful to stay nestled inside of you, despite his cock slowly becoming flaccid. “Only time will tell, sweet wife,” he replied, “but that does not have to stop us from trying a few more times… just to make sure.” There was a teasing edge in his voice, and when his arms wrapped around your body to take you with him as he sat back on his haunches, you knew that a long night lay ahead of you – but you didn’t mind at all.

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 2 months

Text

Unbidden

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x f!reader x Aemond Targaryen Warnings: Cuckolding, voyeurism, smut. Word count: ~3k

Summary: Noticing his nephew's wife appears dissatisfied in her marriage, Daemon sets out to show them both that there is pleasure to be found within the marital bed...

Author's note: No tag list. Please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

She has scarcely been able to take her eyes off of Daemon since he first arrived at the Red Keep. He possesses the classically handsome features bestowed upon those of Valyrian blood, carries himself with self assured confidence, and embodies an air of dangerous unpredictability which both frightens and excites her in equal measure. Though it is none of these qualities that keep her gaze fixated upon him.

Her interest is piqued by how utterly devoted he is to his wife. When she stood beside her husband, Aemond, in the Great Hall, as Vaemond Velaryon challenged the succession of Driftmark, her attention was focused solely on Daemon and Rhaenyra. He had been glued to her side, his gaze always seeking hers, and when Vaemond had dared to call her a whore and her children “bastards”, he had not hesitated in unsheathing his sword and slicing the man’s head in half. She wonders if her own husband would defend her so staunchly.

She is not blind to their starkly different situations; Daemon and Rhaenyra’s union is one of love, it is plain for all to see. Her and Aemond’s is one of political necessity. Although they have grown fond of each other over the last six months of their marriage, and he has never been unkind to her, she cannot help the jealousy that swirls, ugly and acrid, within her chest at the ease of which her husband’s half sister and his uncle interact with one another.

The two children they have together already, and the one that currently grows within the swell of Rhaenyra’s belly are proof enough of their passion for one another. However, the looks they exchange at the dinner table this evening are smoldering and filled with intent. Their fingers brush against each other as they pass dishes of food between them, and Daemon’s hand seems to find its way to her stomach, caressing her lovingly, unaware he is even doing it.

Her and Aemond’s intimacy is not so effortless, though it is not from a lack of trying on her part. He beds her frequently, and she greets his advances with enthusiasm, yet his stoicism renders him incapable of ever fully losing control. He is receptive to her pleas of “harder”, “faster”, but she is always left with the dissatisfaction of feeling he is holding something back, and outside of their shared bedchamber it is rare that he ever touches her. She has attempted to broach the subject with him before, framing it as a means for them to find greater satisfaction within their marital bed, but he always waves her away dismissively, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

She can sense something dark and urgent bubbling beneath the surface of him, and longs to draw it out, to experience the full force of the fire of the dragon that runs through his veins, but she does not know how to entice it.

It had appeared prominent in his seeing eye as Dark Sister had cleaved the Velaryon man’s skull in twain, a potent mixture of bloodlust and desire, as his pupil had dilated ever so slightly. It had sent a shiver up her spine, heat pooling between her thighs, causing her to squeeze them together to fend off the dull, throbbing ache.

She longs for that look to be cast upon her, for her to be the recipient of whatever wrath that follows, and now she is sure that it is Daemon that holds the key to coaxing the darker side of her husband out to play.

The dinner is a tense affair. Aemond sits beside her, so tightly wound she is sure the lightest of touches would cause him to shatter like glass. When he finally loses his cool, throwing barbed words towards his nephews, resulting in an exchange of blows, the evening draws to an abrupt close, with each of them being dismissed to their respective quarters. As they depart the dining hall, her husband and his uncle lock eyes, a smirk of amusement flashing briefly across Daemon’s features as Aemond’s nostrils flare in irritation.

She can feel the heat of his anger radiating from him as he strides through the corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast, scurrying alongside him in an attempt to match his pace. That look has returned and with it her desperate feeling of lust. If she doesn’t seize the opportunity now, then she is unsure of when it will present itself again.

Reaching out for her husband, she grasps his elbow, her fingers taut against the leather sleeve of his tunic. His steps falter and he turns to look at her quizzically, chest heaving with the laboured breaths of his barely concealed rage.

“What is it?” He snaps.

Instinctively, she shrinks back, second guessing her decision as she sees the way he glares down at her, lip curled into a snarl. Despite her fear, she reminds herself that this is the side of Aemond she had been seeking, and leans into him, placing her hands upon his chest.

“I want you,” she whispers, gazing up at him pleadingly.

“Not here,” he sighs, his expression softening, as he gently grasps her hands in his, moving them back to her sides.

Though she remains outwardly calm, in spite of her disappointment, internally she feels so frustrated she could scream. The look she craves is gone, he has rebuffed her advances and she knows that once more she is destined to an evening where he will treat her as though she is made of bone china.

“I believe you were told to return to your quarters.”

The intrusion of Daemon’s voice causes Aemond to take a quick step backwards, away from her, as she turns to look. He stands before them in the corridor, posture rigid and chin raised up ever so slightly, giving the impression that he is looking down his nose at them both.

“We are on our way,” Aemond responds icily, drawing himself to his full height and staring down his uncle.

The smallest of smiles tugs at the corners of Daemon’s mouth, clearly unphased by his nephew’s hostile demeanour. “I shall escort you both, to ensure there is no further delay.”

Before either one of them has the opportunity to protest, he steps forward, one hand reaching for Aemond’s shoulder, while he places the other at the small of her back. Aemond wrenches away, huffing irritably as he continues walking. She makes no such effort to struggle away from Daemon’s touch, his fingers feeling like a brand against her flesh through the fabric of her dress.

The three of them walk in uncomfortable silence, the only sound is the echo of their footsteps against the flagstone floor. Her eyes widen in surprise when they reach her and Aemond’s shared chambers and, instead of bidding them goodnight, Daemon follows them inside, closing the doors behind them.

Aemond stares at him quizzically, eye narrowed. “What are you doing, Uncle? If you are here to reprimand me for what was said at dinner then–”

“I am here for your wife, actually,” he interrupts, turning his head towards her as his eyes move from her head to her feet and back up again.

She feels her skin grow hot under the intensity of his gaze, swallowing thickly as he regards her as a cat would a mouse.

“What do you want with my wife?” Aemond asks, his voice lowering in quiet threat.

It is the first time she has ever heard her husband speak of her so possessively and it makes her pulse race. She wants more of this, there is an intense thrill to having the attention of two Targaryen men placed solely upon her.

“Do not think I have not noticed,” Daemon says to her, ignoring Aemond as he continues to stare at her. “You have been ogling me all day. Why?”

Embarrassment prickles at her, and she lowers her gaze. Her voice is small and pitiful sounding to her ears as she answers. “Forgive me, My Prince. I did not mean to stare.”

“Look at me when you speak to me,” he commands, “and answer the question.”

She exhales shakily, lifting her eyes to meet his. His stare is piercing, his eyes darkened and predatory in the low lighting of her and Aemond’s apartments.

“I found myself…rather taken by how you engage with Princess Rhaenyra. You are quite affectionate with one another.”

Daemon’s brow furrows slightly as he cocks his head in curiosity. “Does your own husband not show you affection?”

A wave of sadness washes over her, causing her shoulders to sag at the reminder of the lack of intimacy between her and Aemond. She spares him a glance, noticing he has not moved from where he stands. His expression could be mistaken for neutral were it not for the fury that rages tempestuously within his seeing eye as he glares at his uncle.

Drawing in a deep breath, she looks back to Daemon, answering simply, honestly: “no.” Shame shrouds her, suffocating and dense, feeling the overwhelming urge to cry, her head dipping as she focuses on the spot where the hem of her skirts meets the stone floor. She cannot bear to look at either man, knowing she has spoken out of turn about her husband, not just in front of him, but to his uncle as well.

She gasps as Daemon steps forward, crowding her space, his finger crooking beneath her chin to lift her face up towards his. The touch of him makes her knees buckle slightly and she leans back against the table behind her for support, no longer trusting her legs to keep her upright. “What a brave little thing you are,” he whispers, an edge to his voice that twists her stomach into knots.

“I–I am sorry,” she stammers, eyes flitting nervously between her husband and his uncle. “I should not have–”

“There is nothing wrong with expressing your wants, your desires,” Daemon reassures her. “Perhaps my nephew just needs a little help in learning how best to please his wife?”

She squeals in surprise as he grasps the backs of her thighs, lifting her until she is seated upon the edge of the table she had been leaning against. Lips parted and eyes wide, she turns her head towards Aemond, and though his fists are clenched at his sides, his breathing accelerated in silent fury, he makes no move to stop what is happening. That look from earlier has returned, ravenous and half crazed, she interprets it as silent consent, wanting to do all she can to keep it fixed upon her.

“What of your wife? Will she not mind you…helping us?” She asks timidly, as Daemon’s hands make quick work of rucking her skirts up around her hips.

He chuckles drily in response, dragging her smallclothes down her legs, allowing them to dangle from a single ankle. “You and Aemond have much to learn, sweet girl. Fucking is a pleasure, and Rhaenyra does not mind how or with whom we seek it, as long as our loyalties do not falter.”

The very idea seems scandalous to her, yet wetness gathers between her legs all the same. Aemond has now taken up the seat beside the fireplace, watching them both intently, his stare unblinking and fiery.

Daemon’s fingers travel up her legs, until they reach the insides of her thighs. His fingers are thicker than Aemond’s, his touch is calloused and rough, where Aemond’s is deft, yet hesitant. His fingertips dig into her soft flesh, hard enough to bruise as he pries her legs apart, a hum of approval rumbling in his throat at the arousal he finds glistening there.

“Does your husband make you this wet?” He asks with gentle curiosity.

She nods enthusiastically, looking over at Aemond and seeing a small, prideful smile ghost quickly across his lips before disappearing.

“Good,” Daemon tells her. “No problems there then.”

His fingertips swipe through her sodden folds, his middle finger quick to locate her pearl and circle it with precision. The movement makes her tense, a jolt of pleasure causing her hips to buck as she mewls helplessly.

“Does he touch you like this?”

“N–no…” she whimpers in response.

“Hmm,” Daemon glances over his shoulder, before looking back at her. “Well, ensure he does in future. I am sure he will; he is paying close attention.”

Looking back over at Aemond, she feels herself clench around nothing, her desire building with a steady, rhythmic ache as she sees the lacings of his trousers strain against his hardness. He is enjoying watching this, lips slightly parted and eye hooded. The sight of it rids her of the last of her inhibitions as Daemon moves his focus away from her bud and dares to push his two forefingers inside of her. She tilts her head back, gripping the edge of the table tightly as she feels her muscles stretch to accommodate him.

“You must be prepared, thoroughly, before you are fucked,” he murmurs against the shell of her ear.

Her mind is foggy, struggling to comprehend Daemon’s words as he presses the pads of his fingers upwards, dragging them against a spot inside of her that causes her toes to curl and moisture to trickle down onto the tabletop. Does he really mean to fuck her? Surely that would be a step too far? Yet she finds it difficult to care when he is pushing her towards the precipice of pleasure itself with simply his fingers. Her mind reels with the possibility of what it would feel like to be stretched out around his cock.

As his fingers pump faster, she moves her hips in tandem, chasing the urgently building pressure that is growing inside of her. He pulls them from her suddenly, causing her to whine in frustration at being robbed of her peak.

Daemon grins wolfishly as his hands move to unfasten his breeches. “I think we have learned enough in that regard, and are ready to move on.”

She averts her gaze as he frees himself, her eyes finding Aemond’s, another silent check in for consent. His throat bobs as he swallows, his knuckles almost white with the force of the grip he has on the armrests of where he sits, but he makes no move to stop what is happening.

Her hands grasp at Daemon’s shoulders as he sheathes himself inside of her, knocking the air from her lungs. Aemond and his uncle are similar in many respects, but this is a matter in which the pair of them could not be more different.

It is odd to her that, despite being between her thighs, he has not tried to kiss her. Whether it is a mark of respect for hers and Aemond’s marriage, or simply because he does not want to, she is unsure, but she is grateful for his abstinence. A kiss seems too intimate a gesture, there is nothing sweet about this.

Daemon sets a brutal pace, once she has had a moment to adjust, rocking into her with a force that causes the table legs to scrape loudly against the hard floor. He is so much more self assured than her husband, utterly unafraid to violate her, and it is freeing to be handled so roughly.

She moans wantonly as he moves a hand to wrap around her throat, applying gentle pressure at the sides. “Do not be afraid to be a little unrestrained,” Daemon grits out, a statement clearly not meant for her, even though his eyes bore into hers. “I have yet to bed a woman who does not enjoy it.”

He has the right of it. The hand around her throat, coupled with the almost violent manner in which he thrusts inside of her is dizzying and, as he slips a hand between them to stroke at her pearl once more, she knows she will not last long. It has never been this intense with Aemond before; a lack of experience, coupled with a fear of hurting her means he is always gentle, hesitant where he need not be.

The grip on her throat tightens, the ministrations against her bud grow more insistent as she feels Daemon pulsate inside of her, his jaw clenching at the telltale sign that he is close. With a final, harsh thrust of his hips, she cries out in ecstasy as the warmth of his seed spills inside of her, triggering her own release as she tightens around him in rapid, successive pulses.

“Good girl,” he mutters quietly.

He is quick to pull out of her, as she leans back against her palms, pliant and breathless from the experience. She barely registers Daemon tucking himself away and slipping out of the chamber doors, as Aemond moves into view, standing before her.

Under ordinary circumstances, the wrathful insanity she sees reflected in his blue eye would frighten her, but tonight it has butterflies fluttering ceaselessly in her lower belly. His hand moves to the back of her head, gripping her hair tightly by the roots, tugging her head forcefully backwards. Her yelp of pain is stifled by him pressing his lips firmly against hers, his tongue licking against her own in a kiss that is more a desperate display of possession than a loving embrace.

“You are mine,” he breathes, letting go of her momentarily to tug at the lacings of his trousers.

“Yours,” she whispers back, satisfied excitement causing her pulse to thrum at the knowledge she has unleashed the side of Aemond she has always longed for.

Daemon’s spend has begun to dribble out of her, and as she watches the head of her husband’s cock push it forcefully back inside of her, she knows he will remind her every night from now on exactly which Targaryen Prince it is that she belongs to.

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wheeboo · 10 months

Text

admire me (like I do for you) | choi seungcheol

SYNOPSIS. in which seungcheol shows you his tattoos. PAIRING. choi seungcheol x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, just very intimate fluff, implied idol au (because his tattoos are dedicated to svt + carats) WARNINGS. some suggestive undertones, cheol takes off his shirt, touching, one curse word, cheol teasing reader, reader jokingly calling themselves a pervert cuz cheol is shirtless, terms of endearment (love), a kiss at the very end WORD COUNT. 1.9k

notes: um this was just a random thought I had. ik we have never gotten a full glimpse of his tattoos so this is just my imagination and from the research i’ve done heh.

You find your body buried deep in the comfort of your blanket, eyes closed shut as the faint moonlight squeezes its way through your closed window blinds. Nothing but peace and quietness floats in your bedroom, but the only thing that is keeping you awake is knowing your boyfriend was still awake right next to you.

Seungcheol thinks you are asleep, often sneaking glances in your direction to make sure before returning his attention to the video game on his phone, the brightness of the screen illuminating his bare face. But when he isn’t looking, you would sneakily peek an eye open, smiling softly under the blanket to his concentration𑁋the subtle furrow of his brow, the way his lips occasionally curve into a satisfied smile of victory, or his quiet whispers of narration to himself.

“No, no, no. Shit,” Seungcheol murmurs to himself, his fingers manuevering expertly on his screen. “Did he have to sneak up on me like that?”

He leaves the game in a pit of disappointment, before realising the awfully late time displayed on his phone. Slowly stretching his arms upwards, Seungcheol lets his gaze flicker towards you.

Somehow, you can feel his eyes on you, even with them closed. There’s a soft smile that plays at his lips as he turns himself around to place his phone on the bedside table, turning on his alarm and shutting off the sound of his notifications. And during this moment, you open one eye, and you manage to catch a glimpse of something that has been running through your imagination for the longest time.

Just barely, you notice the dark ink of his tattoo peeking out of his shirt at the base of his neck. It looks like a tree. You’ve seen many glimpses of it before, but not in its full glory, simply because of your nervousness to ask and how intimate and overwhelming crossing that boundary might feel to you and him.

The bed dips down from Seungcheol’s shifting movements as he settles himself back in the bed, careful not to make any noise. But you get yourself to elicit a deliberate groan, making Seungcheol glance back down at your worriedly.

“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asks quietly.

You let out a soft chuckle, trying to appear groggy as you shift and open both of your eyes. “No... it’s okay. Could barely fall asleep without you.”

A tender smile eases its way onto his face that deepens his dimples. “Well, I’m here now. Shall we?”

Seungcheol comfortably scoots himself closer to you, a contented sigh leaving his lips as you feel his hands grab onto your arms to encircle around him. He pulls you closer to him, and you feel the relaxing rise and fall of his chest and the quiet rhythm of his heartbeat sync with yours.

As the quietness lingers around you both, you still find yourself to be wide awake. Though perfectly content in Seungcheol’s arms, your mind is still clouded with the thoughts of his tattoo. It’s not... that you want to see it right then and there𑁋it’s Seungcheol’s choice, of course𑁋but the curiosity and desire to explore that part of him continue to tug at your heart.

With a sudden surge of courage, you take a deep breath and muster up the calling his name. “Cheol?”

He stirs a bit in your hold, or is he holding you? It’s hard to tell. “Hmm?”

You hesitate for a moment, your voice barely above a whisper. "Um... You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but would it be okay if I...” A momentary pause. “...if I could see your tattoo one day?"

Your words make him pull back from you, but it’s hard to see his face from the pitch blackness of the bedroom. However, you can hear him reach over to turn the lampshade back on, and the room is immediately casted with a warm, dim glow. The two of you sit up in bed together, with Seungcheol criss-crossed right in front of you, and there’s a hint of vulnerabilty in his eyes from the way his lips seem to quiver.

“Like I said, you don’t have to. It’s just, uh...” You think about the times you’ve caught glimpses of it. The first time was when you accidentally caught him changing to go to the gym, and you caught a fleeting glance of it when he had his back towards you in the doorway and you were quick to dismiss yourself to tend to your racing heart. Ever since then the visual thought had crept up into your mind, and each time he would turn around, you try to visualise what it look like entirely... not in a creepy way, of course.

Seungcheol moves closer to you on the bed, his eyes seemingly searching through yours.

“I can show it to you,” Then he takes a pause. “but only if you’re really sure, because it’s... in a tough spot, sort of.”

You chuckle lightly. “I just... didn’t know how to ask or if you were, you know, comfortable.”

“Are you comfortable?” he asks. “because you already know I’m willing to do anything for you.”

As his words wash over you, you feel the heat sprouting in your face. You have always loved how he always made sure you were comfortable with anything you do together. He is cautious and careful with you, and understands your reasoning for wanting to take things at your own pace. And he has told you many times just how important you are to him, even more than himself.

But now maybe you can show him just how important he is to you.

“Yeah, I... I’m good,” You tell him, though you can still feel that pint of nervousness inside. But you want this𑁋you want to see this small, meaningful part of him. “Can I... see it?”

His gaze is warm, comforting, as he gives you a nod before positioning himself so that his back was facing towards you. Reaching down to the ends of his shirt, he slowly pulls it upward, gifting you with the sight of the bare skin of his back inch by inch. The dim light of the lamp dances on his skin, casting soft shadows that accentuate the contours of his back muscles along with his arms𑁋you can’t believe these are the same arms that he uses to hug and cuddle you. The sight makes something catch in your throat.

And as you trail your eyes up his body, you finally see it𑁋the tree tattoo, along with two other small ones you never noticed until now on either side. The tree was larger than you thought, but it wasn’t any less beautiful in your eyes; in fact, you take in its simplistic design with nothing but admiration.

You couldn't help but reach out, fingers trembling slightly, as if afraid to rub away the ink of the tattoo despite it being permanent. Your touch grazes the edge of the tattoo, tracing the lines that make up the bark of the tree. As your fingertips make contact with his skin, Seungcheol flinches, feeling a sudden shiver run down his spine.

“Sorry,” You apologise quickly, taking your finger away from his skin. “I should’ve asked.”

“It’s okay.” You can’t see his face but you know he is. “You can... you can touch it. You can touch me.”

For some reason you feel your heart skip just from that last sentence alone𑁋the way he says it with such vulnerability and intimacy, as if he’s giving you full permission to let your touch wander anywhere. His breath hitches again when your fingers meet his skin once more, this time with more confidence. Instinctively, he feels himself leaning in more to your touch, feeling the way your hands wander over the story etched into his skin.

“What does J.O.Y mean?” You ask him, bringing your attention to one of his small tattoos.

“Ah, it’s the name of one of our albums,” he answers willingly. “It’s supposed to symbolise the journey of youth, like a source of motivation to the younger generation.”

The thought makes you grin. Seungcheol has always been proud of his accomplishments for his group, so him putting meaning into his tattoos makes them even more special.

“I love that,” Then you move onto his other small tattoo. “and you have the date you debuted here?”

His body vibrates from the chuckle that leaves him. “It’s a reminder of when it all began.”

You let out an acknowledging hum in response before continuing to graze your finger over his tattoos, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your touch. Each stroke reveals a little more of his story, his passions, and his journey. He seems to be more relaxed now𑁋at least from what you see. Seungcheol, on the other hand, is trying so hard not to make it obvious the effect your touch has on him is.

Finally, you make your way towards the tree at the base of his neck. The feeling makes him shiver once more.

“What does the tree represent?”

“It’s an olive tree, the birth flower of our debut date,” Seungcheol explains. “but it also serves as a symbol of peace and growth.”

You take a moment to let the meaning sink in, quietly appreciating his words. The significance of the olive tree as a symbol of peace and growth intertwines just perfectly with the journey he's been on as an artist and as a person.

"It's beautiful," You murmur, voice filled with genuine admiration. "just like you."

A blush creeps onto Seungcheol's cheeks as he turns to look back at you for a moment, a bashful look to his face.

“You can’t say that,” he says, a deep exhale leaving him as his shoulders relax. “You know what it does to me.”

And because of that, you watch as he turns around to face you before you could respond, and your eyes immediately shoot down his bare chest, his abs, and then quickly dart back up to meet his gaze, feeling the embarrassment shoot up your face. Your voice catches in your throat, suddenly feeling the overwhelming nervousness take over.

Seungcheol notices your sudden shift in gaze and chuckles softly.

"Caught you looking." he teases, a boyish smile tugging at his lips.

Your cheeks heat up even more, and you fumble for words, feeling like a deer caught in headlights. "I... uh... I-I wasn't... I mean..."

Seungcheol's laughter fills the room, and he reaches out to cup your face gently, letting his touch soothe your nerves.

"I'm just teasing, love," he reassures you, letting his thumb stroke your cheek. "Don’t feel embarrassed.”

“I feel like a pervert,” You admit aloud, an awkward laugh leaving you. You already knew there was no reason for you to feel this way, but you can’t shake the feeling away because your boyfriend is shirtless in front of you and you have no idea how to react other than wanting to sink yourself deep into your bed in a pit of shame.

You feel his hand trail down to your chin, causing you to look back up at him. However, his face contains nothing but affection. How does he manage to look at you like this, nothing but adoration in his eyes but be this attractive right in front of you?

“I love it when you admire me,” He leans in awfully close, voice lowering. “just like I do for you.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, and you can feel the intensity of his gaze as he leans in closer. You swallow a lump in your throat, glancing between his eyes and his mouth.

And then as his lips brush against yours, it’s like a soft caress on your skin. There’s a surge of warmth that spreads throughout your body as it deepens ever so slightly, and you could feel the smile tug your own face when you feel his own lips curl too.

taglist (open) ʚɞ @enhazen @haowrld @ylliris-hanniehae @icyminghao

#kflixnet #k-labels #seventeen imagines #seventeen fluff #scoups imagines #scoups fluff #seungcheol imagines #seungcheol fluff #choi seungcheol imagines #choi seungcheol fluff #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol x reader #svt #svt x reader #svt fluff

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s6ngbird · 3 months

Text

only you — felix catton ᯓ★

⊹₊⋆ warnings — nsfw, p in the v, pretty much no plot, unprotected sex, fingering (f. recieving), overstimulation, lmk if i missed anything

⊹₊⋆ pairing — felix catton x fem!reader

⊹₊⋆ a/n — sorry for not posting for so long! exams were kicking my ass but im back so i will be wrapping up flowers from beneath soon

masterlist | bc: @cafekitsune

summers at saltburn were always delightful and there never seemed to be a break from the drama

especially this year, as felix invited his new friend, oliver over for the summer

you heavily disliked him, believing that he thought too much of himself and believed he could have felix wrapped around his finger

this was not the case though, as you were the one who had felix wrapped around their finger, practically convincing him to do whatever you desired

you and felix had been friends for a few years, but felix never followed the rules of friendship and liked to make out or fuck you whenever he pleased

it did bother you sometimes, since he would be so chill with fucking all these girls that it made you feel like you were just another doll in his ever-growing collection of people who were obsessed with him

you weren't obsessed with felix, but you craved his attention and validation, wanting his praise whenever you could get it

venetia noticed this first, laughing and teasing you about it but then it wasn't so funny anymore when she found out felix and you liked to fuck

but you couldn't think about fucking felix now, oliver had just arrived a few days prior and he was already taking up all of felix's time and energy

you constantly got bad vibes from oliver, but felix never seemed to notice, causing you to confide in venetia and farleigh

venetia was a bit hesitant but farleigh agreed with you, calling oliver a creep and that he probably wanted to fuck felix himself

this left you unhappy, already upset from the attention being dragged away from you, but especially now that felix barely batted an eye in your direction

all of this was finally resolved though, during one of felix's many parties

you were engaging in a mindless conversation with some random guy, who was obviously flirting with you but you pretended to be oblivious to it

you felt a weight on your shoulders, looking up to see felix draped over you, holding his cigarette and yelling at farleigh

the guy who was previously talking with you gave felix an annoyed glare but left as soon as felix's attention returned to you

felix looked at him confused but shrugged it off and laughed, sitting down on the couch and pulling you on him

felix started placing sloppy kisses on your neck, uncoordinated and whiskey filled kisses

“felix you are so fucking drunk” you say, holding your cup away from him as he tried to grab it, but since his arms were freakishly large, he grabbed it with ease, holding the cup to your lips and pouring it down your throat until it was all done

“there all done! now i can take you upstairs” felix said, getting up and grabbing your hand to try and drag you with him

“felix no” you replied, exhausted and still upset that he had barely paid attention to you all week

he pouted and shrugged, muttering that it wouldn't be a problem, leaving you confused until he grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing

you decided against fighting him, being glad that he finally was paying some attention to you and allowed him to carry you upstairs to his room

he placed you on his bed, smiling and stripping himself of his clothes besides his boxers, climbing over you and kissing you

it felt good to finally have felix's attention after the week, getting to feel his lips on yours, and his tongue exploring your mouth certainly was not unwelcome

you allowed him to unzip your dress, helping him slip it off your body as you two continued to kiss one another like starving animals

“whyd'd ya ignore me all week?” felix said between kisses, starting to move his lips down to your throat to suck hard as you moaned

“you were ignoring me!” you yelped as felix smacked your thigh and sucked on your breast hard to silence you

“i was not, i kept trying to get your attention but you only wanted to pay attention to venetia and farleigh” he said angrily, his sweet facade melting away as he pulled down your panties, ripping them off of you to reveal your soaking cunt

he grinned at the sight, not hesitating to dive between your legs and lick up all your arousal

you moaned as his tongue nudged inside your hole, going fully in and then backing out, only to slam itself back inside

you tried to grip his hair for support as you continued to moan but felix slapped your hands away, looking up at you with a warning look

eventually he switched his tongue for his fingers, continuing a brutal pace as you took your bud in his mouth, sucking hard when you least expected it, bring you to your first orgasm of the night

he continued to pump his fingers into you, slapping your ass or thigh every time you tried to push him away from your pussy

“i'm not stopping until i'm satisfied with you, after all that torture you put me through this week, it's only fair” he said hoarsely after you had came at least three more times, everytime complaining about how overstimulated you were

he got off of you and you silently pleaded with whatever that was watching over the two of you that he would be done and just cuddle with you

unfortunately no one seemed to answer your prayer since he got back on you, stripped of his boxers and lining up his hard cock with your hole, the precum spilling as he aligned himself

he slid into you with little resistance, sighing as his cock found home in your warm cunt

he stayed there for a little while, savoring the feeling while you continued to whine and push at his shoulders

he finally started to move, setting a rough pace as you moaned, grabbing his shoulders as you cried

“aw baby don't cry, i promise after this we'll be done” he said, kissing your tears and silencing your whimpers with kisses

you felt so overwhelmed, crying from the feeling of being overstimulated but also moaning from the pleasure coming from felix's cock

“you ok love?” felix says after a while, kissing you once more after you had doing nothing but moaning and crying but suddenly stopped

you nodded, tightening around his cock as you felt your fourth or fifth orgasm approaching

“atta girl, come for me” he said, his hot breath right in your ear and that's all it took for you to come undone on him, coming hard and gripping onto his shoulders like he would disappear

he moaned at the feeling, kissing your neck and letting out praises between his moans

“gonna come in you, gonna make you mine” he said, thrusting once more and coming inside of you, his cum coating your walls

he panted, staying inside of you for a little longer before pulling out and stuffing his cum back inside of you, eliciting a squeal as you were still overstimulated

“sorry baby, can't help but do it, you're mine now” he said with a laugh, grinning at your shocked expression

“no more girls? or guys? not even oliver?” you said, confused by his words due to his playboy nature

“no one, not even oliver” he said, holding you close to him and kissing your head

“only you love”

#jacob elordi #jacob elordi fic #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi smut #felix catton #felix catton x reader #felix catton x you #felix catton x fem! reader #saltburn fanfiction #felix catton fanfic #saltburn smut #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton smut #jacob elordi fanfic

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victoryverse · 4 months

Note

Virgin!Reader X Ghost?

Like its readers first time and he guides her through everything and uses his tongue to stretch her out?

Love your writing! Have a good day/night <3

Breaking In

simon riley x virgin!reader

words: 1k

18+, SMUT, oral (f receiving), p in v sex

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You nervously fidget with the hem of your shirt as Simon leads you into his bedroom. Your heart is racing with excitement and fear, knowing that tonight is the night you will finally lose your virginity to your boyfriend. The thought of being so intimate with Simon, of him being the first person to touch you in that way, sends shivers down your spine.

But as Simon starts to undress you, your nerves start to take over. You've never been with anyone before, and the idea of having sex is both thrilling and terrifying. Simon notices your hesitation and immediately stops, cupping your face in his hands.

'Hey,' he says softly, looking into your eyes. 'It's okay. I'm here with you, and I'll make sure you feel good. Just trust me, okay?'

You nod, feeling a bit more at ease with his comforting words. Simon has always been patient and understanding with you, and you know he would never do anything to hurt you. He starts to kiss you gently, his lips moving slowly against yours. As you both deepen the kiss, Simon's hands start to explore your body, making you moan into his mouth.

He helps you out of your clothes, and you feel a little self-conscious being completely naked in front of him. But Simon's hungry eyes and the way he runs his hands over your curves make you feel desired and beautiful. He then removes his own clothes, revealing his toned body and hardened length.

'God, you're so beautiful,' he says, his voice full of awe. 'I can't believe you're all mine.'

Simon lays you down on the bed and begins to kiss and nibble at your neck, making you squirm beneath him. He moves down to your breasts, sucking on your nipples and eliciting moans from you. You feel a new sensation between your legs, a tingling and aching that you've never felt before. Simon notices your arousal and grins, knowing he's the one causing it.

'Are you ready for more?' he asks, his voice low and husky.

You nod, your body trembling with anticipation. Simon spreads your legs and settles himself between them, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. He starts to kiss and lick his way down your body, leaving a trail of heat and desire. When he reaches your core, he spreads your folds open and takes a long, slow lick from your entrance to your clit.

You gasp at the sudden pleasure, arching your back off the bed. Simon continues to lap at your folds, his tongue flicking and teasing your sensitive bundle of nerves. You moan and writhe beneath him, feeling a delicious pressure building in your lower stomach.

'Simon,' you whimper, feeling overwhelmed by the new sensations.

He looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. 'That's it, baby. Let go and enjoy it.'

With his encouragement, you let yourself give in to the pleasure, your body trembling and clenching as you reach your first orgasm. Simon doesn't stop, though. He continues to eat you out, prolonging your pleasure and making you come again and again until you're a moaning, quivering mess.

When he finally pulls away, you're panting and flushed, your body humming with satisfaction. But Simon isn't done with you yet. He sits up and spreads your legs wider, his fingers slipping inside your wet heat. He starts to pump them in and out of you, stretching you open and making you feel fuller than you ever have before.

'Fuck, you're so tight,' he groans, adding a third finger and scissoring them inside you.

You cry out at the sensation, feeling both pleasure and a slight discomfort. But Simon is quick to soothe you.

'Relax, baby,' he says, his voice soothing and gentle. 'I'll be careful.'

And he is. With his skilled fingers and encouraging words, he slowly stretches you open, preparing you for what's to come. When he deems you ready, he moves between your legs and lines himself up with your entrance. He looks at you one last time, seeking your permission and making sure you're okay.

You nod, your heart pounding in your chest. You trust Simon, and you want this. With a deep breath, he pushes into you, slowly but steadily filling you up. You gasp at the sensation, feeling a mix of pleasure and pain. Simon waits until you adjust to his size, peppering your face with kisses and whispering words of love and encouragement.

When he starts to move, it's slow and gentle, giving you time to get used to the feeling. But as your body starts to relax and the pain turns into pleasure, he picks up the pace, thrusting into you harder and faster. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and meeting his thrusts with your own.

'Fuck, you feel so good,' Simon grunts, his hands gripping your hips as he pounds into you.

You moan and cry out, feeling a new kind of pleasure building inside you. It's different from what you felt earlier, more intense and consuming. You know you're close to your orgasm, and Simon can tell too.

'Come for me, baby,' he says, his voice strained with his own impending release.

With one final thrust, you fall over the edge, your body shaking and clenching around Simon as you come. He follows soon after, his hips stuttering as he spills inside you, both of you crying out each other's names.

As you both come down from your highs, Simon pulls out and lays next to you, pulling you into his arms. You're both sweaty and breathless, but you've never felt more connected and in love.

'Are you okay?' Simon asks, brushing your hair off your forehead.

You smile and nod, feeling a sense of contentment and fulfillment wash over you. 'That was amazing. Thank you.'

Simon smiles back, his eyes full of adoration. 'Anytime, baby. I love you.'

You snuggle closer to him, feeling completely at peace. Losing your virginity to Simon was everything you hoped it would be and more. You had trusted him with something so delicate, and he was careful and handled it with tenderness.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

tell me if you like it! requests are open!

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thecharacterchronicler · 1 month

Text

Insatiable (3) || Coriolanus Snow x Reader (+18)

Outline: Coriolanus is starting to lose control over his feelings for you and the way your driver seems to be flirting with you forces him to show him - and you - who you belong to.

Word Count: 4’626

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow should be a warning in itself, jealous/possessive husband, pregnancy (TTC), marriage of convenience, public s*x (kinda), VERY FREAKIN EXPLICIT SMUT.

(( Part 1 - There Will Come A Ruler )) (( Part 2 - Snow Lands On Top ))

Coriolanus had been up for almost 24 hours by the time he arrived at the party, ready to endure a few more hours of small talk, faked smiles and diplomatic handshakes. But at least, for the short few hours of playing games in the circus of Panem’s good society, you’d be by his side and that perspective strangely eased his mind.

He had arrived early, right from his office in town. He always kept a nice suit there, just so he could work until the very last moment before attending an event. Parties, dinners, balls… Those were wrongfully considered leisure time by those who didn’t know any better. In fact, such social gatherings among his peers were his very own version of the Hunger Games’ arena, where one wrong word, one missed opportunity, one hesitation could cost him his career. So, whatever happened, he made a point to never let his guard down. He had been standing by the opulent’s manor doors for a moment now, appearing to be waiting for his wife to arrive but really, he was carefully watching the entrance of every guest, arriving to the manor in an endless round of luxurious cars circling the magnificent fountain in the driveway, some of them having more trouble than others getting out of their cars and climbing the marble stairs that led to the doors, due to being dressed in unpractical but fashionable outfits.

He mentally took notes of who was in attendance, making a list of who he should greet once inside and what topic to address with each one, planning his entire conversations with them ahead so that he could be sure to make a good impression on everyone. If he couldn’t care less about the parties and the guests, at least they usually granted him perfect opportunities to shine and display his own talents, his manners and behavior always impeccable.

Coriolanus Snow liked being in control of the situation. In fact, he needed to be in control of every situation. And he was pretty good at it… Until a familiar car entered the driveway, circled the fountain and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. The young, and rather good looking, driver that he had insisted on hiring opening the door for you.

The moment you stepped out, Coriolanus’s felt his spine straightening and held his head higher. You were looking gorgeous in the dress you had picked for the event, and he instantly felt a sense of pride at the realization that he would be the lucky man to have you by his side. With that, he also loved to see how everyone admired you, how women turned around to look at you, envying you. He could tell they wished they could either be you or be friends with you, anything to have the chance of being close to you. But he felt different at the sight of the men’s hungry eyes wandering down the lines and curves of your body. People could be obsessed about you but they needed to remember that you were his and only his. To hold, to touch, to kiss… To fuck.

He found himself biting hard on the inside of his cheek as he watched you carefully, torn between his desire to observe the way your dress stuck to your body as you walked with just as much hunger as the other men and his determination to keep a close eye on your personal chauffeur, not liking the way he was holding your hand to help you up and the way he wished you a nice night as soon as Coriolanus reached you, to take over in his stead.

Your husband had always been quite possessive of the few valuable things he owned, maybe it was an habit that had formed during the dark days, when he barely had anything to hang on to. However, those days were now long gone and he was wealthy enough to enjoy bragging about his most precious belongings, it just so turned out that you had became one of them too the moment you had signed your name at the bottom of your thick wedding contract.

“Mrs Snow.” He said, when he finally stepped next to you, watching with satisfaction as your driver retreated promptly.

He brought your hand to his arm, wanting to let you lean on him for more stability as you climbed the stairs together, your high heels loudly clicking against the marble.

“Mister Snow.” You replied, briefly smiling back at him. He couldn’t help but glance at you, noticing the details he had never paid attention to before, such as the visible beauty marks on your skin or the few rebellious strands of hair that had escaped from your elegant hairdo… His attention was so focused on you that he almost didn’t hear the Academy’s new dean and his wife greet him on your way inside.

He should be careful, he couldn’t let himself get distracted. What was the matter anyway ? He usually managed to attend these social events without having a single thought about you other than approving of how flawlessly you behaved… Was it because of the dress ? Or of what was hidden underneath its fabric ? Maybe it was because now he knew exactly what you looked like with your clothes off. Actually, now he even knew what you felt like, which was all the more maddening to him.

Of course, he had attempted to cure himself from his unexpected new obsession for you, tried to get you out of his head by pumping himself almost every morning in the shower, shooting his release into his own hand instead of inside your warm and deliciously tight body. But, unfortunately for him, it did very little to help him focus on his daily tasks like he should have, it was just good at reminding him of how your own hand had pumped him a few times too and by noon, he frequently had to lock himself up in his office just to release himself once more, each of his thoughts haunted by your image sitting on top of his desk or down on your knees in front of him, with your mouth wide open.

He walked you passed the doors, a couple of politicians instantly demanding his attention, to be greeted and to engage in meaningless small talk that would hopefully serve his campaign and reputation.

“Coriolanus! We were talking about you earlier today, we simply cannot wait to see what you’re planning for the next Hunger Games!” The oldest lady of the two said, seemingly truly excited about it all. “You gave us such a show last year !”

“I’m hoping to do even better this year… Unfortunately, as close friends as we are, I cannot reveal anything about it yet.” He replied, with a charming smile that made the lady melt for him, as expected.

“I’m sure it’s going to be a sight to see.” The other woman confirmed, a bit more coldly and way less enthusiastic than her partner. “It’s understandable that you lost the first round of the elections, people would rather keep you as head gamemaker for the games rather than see you becoming our new president, you’ve got an immense talent for entertainment.”

“I can assure you, if our people give me their trust to take care of Panem, I will keep a close eye on the Games, I know how beloved they are to our citizens and it is one of my priorities to make them even more spectacular in the years to come.” Coriolanus stated, diplomatically, although the woman’s remark grated on his nerves. He knew he had caused a revolution in the way the Hunger Games were perceived, he made them go from a barely noticeable event to one people looked forward to with such excitement and enthusiasm each year. By now, he was used to receiving praises for his brilliant ideas and his way of managing everything, he really was good at this, but despair seized him at the realization that being too good at his job might cost him his chance to become president.

Once the women left to join another conversation, you passed the luxurious entrance and into the vaste ballroom filled with music and expensive decorations. As etiquette dictated, you both walked straight up to your host for the night; Hilarius Heavensbee, to greet him and thank him for the invitation.

“I heard from Ravensill himself that you were preparing quite the show to entertain us with the next Hunger Games.” Hilarius told your husband, with a hint of jealousy in his tone. “Good for you that you found your calling, you’ve been doing a great job since you mentored that girl with her clown dress, what was her name again ?”

Hilarius stared at him defiantly, as if he was gauging his reaction to the mention of the tribute he had led to victory but he was skilled enough to not show any. Instead, he glanced down at you by his side.

“I’m afraid I don’t even remember.” He said, with a tight smile. His hand pressed on your lower back, an affectionate gesture that he felt compelled to do in order to make his lie believable.

“I guess it’s pretty irrevelant now.” Hilarius shrugged, glancing at you before turning his attention back to his old classmate. “I hope you’ll enjoy yourselves tonight.”

Your husband looked thankful for his polite way of ending the uncomfortable conversation. He led you away as new guests attempted to engage in small talk with Hilarius.

He breathed a sigh of relief once he was able to grab two glasses of sparkling champagne from a waiter passing among the guests. He handed one to you, knowing that you too might need a good dose of liquid courage for the night but instead of seeing the gratefulness he had expected on your face, he noticed your furrowed brows and tensed smile.

“What’s the matter ?” He asked you, realizing you still weren’t taking a sip while he had immediately chugged down half of his drink .

“Nothing, I just realized that drinking in public wouldn’t be ideal considering we’re hoping I’m pregnant.” You explained. “Not that it would be bad for the baby this early on but people would have a lot to say about it regardless so it’s better if I abstain.”

Coriolanus nodded, good at hiding how his heart had missed a beat at the mention of your potential pregnancy. He hadn’t given many thoughts about it until now, finally understanding a few of the implications of being pregnant for nine months would have on your life… Not only would you be unable to drink but such events would probably be a lot more tiring to you, maybe even making you unable to attend with him, not to mention how your belly would eventually get too round for most of your designer dresses and how your whole body would change in order to make you a mother.

He usually wouldn’t have minded any of it, but now, with his newfound interest in you, the perspective of seeing you pregnant was causing a very unwelcomed reaction inside his pants.

“Look, Moira Wingnut is standing by the buffet.” You told him, completely unaware of how his pants were tightening around his rapidly growing erection. “Id like to talk to her. She’s such a gossip, if I unwillingly let slip that we’re trying to conceive, everyone in Panem will know about it by tomorrow.”

He nodded again, as detached as usual even though he couldn’t have been more impressed by your strategic thinking when it came to controlling what the good society of Panem had to say about you, it almost rivaled his own penchant for manipulation.

He watched you as you crossed the room without him, putting your plan in motion as you even made a show of abandoning your still full crystal glass of champagne on the buffet table, for Moira to see and question. Not only were you beautiful, you also were the smartest woman he knew, a kindred spirit, except for the fact that you were incredibly pure, there was no blood on your hands, no mischievous designs in that mind of yours apart from a few ploys to control the rumours spread about you, truly you were something else. And you were his.

Straining against his suddenly very uncomfortable pants, he decided to walk away, finding shelter in the nearest bathroom before anyone could notice the visible bulge between his legs. He locked himself inside, splashing cold water to his face but it was no use. The erections that you caused were almost impossible for him to get rid of with cold water or singing the hymn of Panem in his head, the way grandma’am had taught him. The only way for him to get temporary relief from the intensity of his desire for you was to take care of it himself.

He sighed as he opened his pants. It was his second time today having to do this in order to function, at this point, he questioned if it even was healthy but what other choice did he have ? He needed to get rid of the very visible evidence of his desire for you so that he could get back to the party and mingle with all these boring and acerbic people, in hopes to win enough of them over before the second round of the elections.

He stroked himself a few times, fast enough to get over with it quickly but what really worked for him was to imagine you there with him, taking over for him, and when he reached his peak, he thought about how nice it would have been to fill you up with his cum again. Instead, it all splashed in his hand, a waste of his seed that belonged deep inside you… But would you only be able to keep up with how often he needed relief lately ? It was as if the more often he got to take you, the more his body demanded it.

He cleaned himself up and left the bathroom to join the party as if nothing had happened, stepping back into the crowd.

The food served was passable, and the conversations remained light and superficial. The mingling seemed to last forever and Coriolanus was starting to feel the muscles of his jaw twitching from fake smiling so much.

It’s only what felt like hours later, as the party was coming to an end that your husband was able to see you again, spotting you in the crowd as you were talking with your young chauffeur by the open windows leading to the balcony. What was he even doing here ? If he was planning to take you home early, he should have asked him first.

Coriolanus observed you, not liking the way you smiled at the driver. He wasn’t a politician but his employee, thus making him not anyone important so why did you bother being so charming and friendly with him ?

He served himself a glass of strong liquor and downed it in one gulp. He wasn’t the kind to drink at all usually, preferring to keep his head clear and focused, but somehow he knew he was going to have to be slightly inebriated if he wanted to finish the night without killing this man with his bare hands.

You laughed. Why were you laughing ? And he touched your arm, how dared he ? It was enough to convince Coriolanus to put a stop to this conversation and remind both of you who - and whose - you were.

He crossed the room with hurried steps, only stopping when his arm pressed against your shoulder, his body sticking close to yours like a magnet that had finally found its opposite force.

“Oh, there you are.” You said, smiling at your husband but surprised by how his hand found your lower back again, trailing a bit further down than before and gripping on the fabric of your dress, slightly scrunching it in his fist in an unusual possessive stance. “We were talking about the last Hunger Games, about how that tribute from District 10 fell to her death in the most ridiculous way, do you remember ?”

Coriolanus looked at the driver with his coldest stare. What did he think he was doing, making small talk with you inside the Heavensbees’ manor which he shouldn’t even have stepped in in the first place.

“Of course, sweetheart. Sometimes the tributes don’t need my help to be good entertainers.” He said, through his teeth, before glancing down at you with a soft smile. “I take it that you are ready to go home ?”

“Yes, I called on Marius because I’m feeling pretty tired tonight. But you can stay if you’re not done talking with everyone.” You explained, oblivious to the way Coriolanus was glaring at the driver, a silent death threat in his eyes. If you were leaving the party, than so was he, especially if the alternative meant leaving you alone with this man. Tonight, it didn’t matter to him that he had barely managed to charm his peers and convince them that he could do other things as well as he managed the Games. The only thing that felt important was making sure Marius knew that you weren’t going to find yourself alone with him anymore. Not ever.

“I’m feeling quite exhausted myself so I’ll leave with you.” He felt a twinge of guilt tug at his heart when he saw how surprised you were by his decision, making him realize that he really didn’t bother to come home to you often enough.

Both of you said your goodbyes to your host and some of his guests, followed by Marius who kept his distances. At least he knew his place. Then, once stepping into the cold night, you felt your husband’s hand on your lower back again, holding you against him tight enough so that you wouldn’t require the help that Marius was all too willing to give you.

Coriolanus hoped his warmth was enough to shelter you from the cold breeze that caressed your face, looking at you while you gazed up to the stars in the black night sky.

Marius led both of you to the car, and your husband made a point to open the door himself, allowing the driver to take his seat behind the wheel already as he helped you get in. He watched you as you sat on the leather seat, adjusting your dress to sit comfortably enough and he couldn’t help but smirk with satisfaction, glad he had managed to keep the driver from daringly lay a hand again on what belonged to him.

He sat next to you in the back of the car, signaling that you were ready to go back to your own manor with a simple but elegant gesture of his hand. The car took off in the dark night, silence reigning inside the luxurious vehicle. If you were focused on the landscape quickly changing outside, he couldn’t care less about it, his eyes fixed on you instead. With your attention on your window, he could shamelessly stare at how your dress had moved up your thighs as you sat, how your cleavage gently swayed each time the car drove over a bump in the road. If he would have been the one driving, he probably would have drove straight into them on purpose, just so he could watch this lovely spectacle as often as possible.

Realizing that maybe he wasn’t the only one painfully aware of how desirable you were tonight, he glanced up to the rear view mirror, unmistakably meeting the reflection of Marius’s eyes in them, staring at you a bit too intently for someone supposed to drive a car, and only looking away because he had caught him.

The anger that welled up inside his chest was unpleasant. He had felt it a few times before and it hadn’t ended well. But he couldn’t bare the idea of another man thinking about you. What if Marius pictured you when he pathetically masturbated in his delabrated bedroom ? Wasn’t it a privilege he should have been the only one to have, as your husband ? It made him sick to even think about the possibility that your driver’s friendliness towards you might have originated from more intimate moments shared together. Would you have given yourself to him ? A mere employee that he had hired in hopes that he would be able to protect you and safely drive you around town ? It had sounded like a good idea back then, when he couldn’t have cared less about how you spent your days but now… Now he wanted you locked up in a room that only he would have the key to, just so that he could keep you shielded from the disgusting thoughts other men might have about you… The very same ones he had whenever his blood stopped flowing to his brain and went down to his dick instead.

Coriolanus wasn’t sure if it was because he needed to mark you as his or because imagining the kind of things other men pictured about you made his own imagination run wild but there it was, the familiar tension in his pants, begging for relief. He placed his hand on your bare thigh, gripping more tightly than what he had wanted but the urge to show you, Marius, and everyone that only he could do that pushed him way past his usual boundaries.

You looked up to him with wide eyes, almost imperceptibly wriggling in your seat under his touch. He could tell you were silently imploring him but what for ? To put you out of your misery and fuck you senseless right then and there ? Or to not arouse your desire for him in a moment like this ?

Without anywhere to hide until he could be presentable again, Coriolanus didn’t even bother trying to hide his growing erection from you, actually bringing your attention to it as he stroked the bulge under his pants with his other hand. He wanted you in every way you’d let him take you. Only you could soothe the mad lust he felt for you. But if you minded your driver’s presence too much to help him with it, then he would take care of it himself, again, even if it meant having you - and Marius - as curious spectators.

He left out a heavy sigh when your hand replaced his, stroking him over the stretched fabric of his pants, and then another louder sigh escaped him when you deftly unbuttoned his pants to pull his throbbing cock out. He stared at the way you were touching him, your elegant fingers caressing him just the way he liked until he was rock hard and ready for you.

But he wasn’t sure if you’d be brave enough to let him fuck you in front of an audience, especially not if you had an affair with the audience in question. The way you were blushing on your seat, although you hungrily stared at his swollen member, probably remembering every time he had shoved it inside you, made him believe that he’d have to waste his release in his hand - or yours - again.

He glanced at you when you moved on your seat, taking a big breath for some bravery, before you lifted yourself up and scouted over to his seat until you straddled his legs. He brought your tight dress even further up than what it already was, uncovering your ass so that he could hook two fingers in your panties to pull them aside and give him access to your deliciously wet pussy.

He briefly threw his head back against the headrest of his seat when you slowly impaled yourself on his hard cock, burying your face against his shoulder to silence your sounds and attempt to forget that it wasn’t just the two of you tonight.

Coriolanus closed his eyes as you rolled your hips, adjusting yourself to his size, taking your time to really ease him all the way up inside you. With one hand on your hip and the other on your ass, he helped you move upwards just so you could bring yourself down on him again, sending a wave of intense pleasure through his cock when his length hit deeply inside you.

He kept supporting your movements, eager to make you go faster as you held yourself to his shoulders, still unable to look away from the crook of his neck. Not only did he think the way you were hiding your flushed cheeks against him was adorable but he also enjoyed the look of absolute mortification he saw on Marius’ face as the driver watched you from his mirror, the bumps and uneven speed of the car betraying how unfocused he was on his task now.

If he had had doubts about you having a forbidden affair with your driver, now it was pretty clear to him that you didn’t care. Wether you had already let him fuck you before or not, now all that seemed to matter to you was your husband and finding your own pleasure as you moved on top of him. Coriolanus felt the warmth and the tremble of your moans of pleasure reverberating on his skin. He so loved the sounds you made whenever he brought you close to climax, and knowing the driver could hear you as well as he could watch you, made for an opportunity too perfect to pass on.

You felt his rough hands in your hair, tugging on them to force you to look at him. Your face was flushed and your eyes were shining with the intensity of your pleasure, the loveliest sight to see in Coriolanus’s opinion. He brought his face closer to yours to press a ravenous kiss on your lips and as he moved away, a loud moan escaped your lips, causing him to smile with satisfaction before he glanced at the mirror again, making sure that Marius could hear how good he could make you feel.

He pushed his hips up to meet yours as they slammed down, the violence of your shared thrusts sending you over the edge. Your body trembled, your movements coming to a stop but you fought against the numbness that was about to invade your thoughts as you enjoyed your intense climax, aware that he still needed to cum inside you.

“Fill me up, Mister Snow.” You demanded, with panted breaths.

You wanted him to shoot his load deeply inside you, hell, you were even begging for it. For him to plant his seed inside you, to mark you as his even more than you already were. Not only was it a maddening thought to him but the way you had asked him, like a favor as you struggled to keep yourself focused enough from how tightly your walls were contracting around his cock caused him to reach his own orgasm without a single movement.

The relief he felt as he emptied his pleasure in you was nothing like what he had managed to reach when taking care of himself. His own hands could never replicate how good yours felt. You fitted him better than anyone ever did, like you were made for him to fuck into oblivion.

And as he held you tightly against him, allowing you all the time you needed to get down from your high - and him his - his racing heartbeat pulsating in your ear pressed against his chest, you realized that you had arrived home. And your driver was long gone.

Previously in this series:

#coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #tbosas smut #tbosbas #corio snow #coryo snow #coriolanus imagine #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus snow #smut #smutty fanfiction #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow x female!reader #spicy content

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st4rfckerz · 1 month

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my sleep schedule is so fucked so whenever i conjured this up at like 4 am the other night.

mdni 18+ (somnophilia, dubcon)

Your eyes snap open as your body simply rejects the idea of sleep. You savor the the warmth of Anakin's body pressed closely against yours before carefully disentangles yourself without disturbing him further. The soft hum of the air conditioner fills the silence as you gingerly get out of bed, trying not to create too much noise. Letting your eyes readjust to the faint illumination coming from outdoors, you drowsily head to the restroom.

The moonlight seeping through the windows casts an ethereal glow on the hallway, bathing everything in a cool blue hue. As you enter the bathroom, you flip on the light switch, casting away the shadows. With a tired sigh, you unbutton your pajamas and sit down on the toilet seat. After finishing up on the cold toilet and washing your hands, you return to your bedroom, finding anakin still fast asleep. His chest rises and falls rhythmically under the covers, a faint hint of a smile playing on his lips. Something about his peaceful slumber triggers a sudden rush of arousal within you, causing your heartbeat to quicken. You watch him for a few more seconds before approaching cautiously, not wanting to disturb his rest.

Slowly, you reach out to trace the contours of his chiseled jawline with your fingertip, feeling the slight stubble beneath. The sensation sends electric currents throughout your body, igniting desires that had laid dormant just moments ago. You can't resist running your fingers through his curls, watching them fan out beneath your touch. Each movement brings forth images of intimate moments you've shared, of him taking control and making you submit willingly. This thought alone sends another wave of excitement coursing through your veins.

Unable to resist anymore, you climb onto the bed, straddling him with care. You hesitate for a brief moment before gently shifting Anakin onto his back. You reach down and grip his large, muscular thighs tightly, savoring the contrast between her delicate frame and his imposing strength. With one swift motion, you slide downwards, positioning yourself above his groin.

You lower yourself onto anakin's clothed cock, feeling the outline of his boxers against your panty-clad folds. You grind yourself against him, the friction setting your nerves ablaze. The fabric of his pants offers just enough resistance to heighten your pleasure, each roll of your hips bringing you more satisfaction.

"Baby," Anakin's deep, groggy voice resonates in you ear, causing goosebumps to rise along your exposed neck and your hips to slow down slightly. You feel his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. "Mmm don't stop." Despite being caught red-handed, you can't bring yourself to admit anything; instead, you let out a needy whimper, arching your back into him. Anakin's strong hands glide over your hips, his thumbs stroking the curve of your pelvis in gentle circles. Your eyes lock, his gaze filled with lust and amusement.

"Couldn't sleep, hm?" he speaks, his voice just above a whisper. You just shake your head and flutter your eyes closed. "Here." Anakin reaches for the elastic band of your panties and with practiced ease, he pulls them aside, revealing your swollen lips glistening with slick. He can't resist running his finger through it, drawing a sharp intake of breath from your lips. Grinning wickedly, he discards the damp fabric before turning his attention to himself. He swiftly removes his own boxers, standing tall and proud before you. The sight of him fully erect sends waves of anticipation through your body, causing you to squirm impatiently. Anakin slowly guides you down onto him, slowly impaling you on his cock. You gasps sharply at the invasion, your nails digging into his shoulders as he sets a steady pace. Your moans fill the room, punctuated by the sounds of your bodies connecting.

Anakin groans in satisfaction, laying back against the headboard as he watches you ride him, your body moving in sync with his shallow thrusts. His hands grip your hips tightly, guiding your movements while keeping you firmly grounded. The headboard creaks rhythmically underneath you, adding to the sensory overload you both experience.

"That's it, baby," he praises your performance, his breath hot against your neck. "Take all of me." He leans forward, capturing one of your nipples between his teeth, gently tugging it until you whimper.

"Ani- I can't 'm getting tired." you whine as you feel your legs starting to burn from the nonstop movement.

"Shh I got you it's okay," Anakin coos softly. His hand comes up to brush away the frayed hairs over your forehead. "Could've just woke me up angel, you know I would've taken care of you." he says between clenched teeth. He reaches up, cupping your breast in his large palm, squeezing it gently before releasing it to trail his fingers down your stomach. His calloused fingers find your clit, he rubs it lightly, timing it with each of your thrusts. Your body jolts against his, throwing your head back, your release building rapidly. "That's it, sweet girl," he murmurs, watching you crumble under his skilled touches. Your orgasm crashes over you like a tidal wave, you back bowing as you chant his name into the night.

"There you go baby, gonna sleep reallll good after this."

As your muscles contract around him, he follows suit, thrusting harder and faster, claiming his own climax. His hips surge forward, driving deeper into your cunt, his muscles flexing under his skin. His groan fills the room, his release pulsing within you.

Once the storm subsides, they collapse onto the bed, panting heavily.

"Tired now?" Anakin asks you with a small, exhausted smile. Breathing heavily, you finally slow down, your body still quivering with post-orgasmic bliss. Opening your eyes slowly, you gaze at him adoringly.

"Yes, very tired." You respond. Anakin's arms wrap around your body tightly. "Good," he mutters into your hair, still catching his breath. You giggle softly into his chest, feeling safe and loved in his embrace.

"Next time," he warns playfully, "just ask." But there's no real anger in his voice; only love and satisfaction.

#nai writes ୨୧ #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin x reader #anakin smut #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker blurb #anakin skywalker drabble #st4rfckerz

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sunnymoonxx · 11 months

Text

red eyes, fangs and talons | miguel o'hara × fem!reader

summary: After another session with Miles, you're left with Miguel filled with anger and frustration. And only you know how to ease him up.

warnings; this is just pure filth, read at your own risk, degradation, unprotected p in v, oral (m receive), vulgar language, kinda voyeurism? if you close your eyes, praise, fangs, talons, talking about being "used," mentions of blood, bondage, angry sex

author's note: I'm not a native English speaker, so I apologize for any grammar mistakes. Also, the Spanish xd. I studied Spanish for a while, but it's no better than google translate, I tried my best xd.

m.list

"No puedo más, no puedo más," you heard a voice mumbling after the room cleared out, leaving only you, Jess, and Miguel. For the past two hours, you and Miguel have been trying to explain to the new recruit, Miles Morales, how the canons work and how they can not be changed. It obviously took a number in Miguel. He covered his face in his hands, back crouched, holding himself back to not break another innocent machine. You and Jess stood silently, glaring at each other, too scared to say anything. At moments like this, even Jess questioned her choices in life.

You decided to risk it and step forward towards Miguel, who still kept whispering something to himself. You were just a few steps behind him when he turned around, his eyes glowing red, facing you.

"Jess, don't take your eyes off Morales," he demanded, not taking his eyes off you. He towered over you, his hair a mess, eyes dark red, and fangs visible over his lips. He was animalistic. And it wasn't the first time you saw him like this. "Make sure he stays here."

"Copy that," Jess responded without hesitation. The next thing you hear is her motorcycle starting, leaving you alone with Miguel. Miguel's talons grew bigger, caused by uncontrollable anger and desire to destroy things. He ripped a machine in half, not even a few minutes ago, and even tho you've known him for years, you couldn't help but be a little scared. You stood there, not daring to say anything, not even knowing what to say, as Miguel moved towards you, scanning you with his vampire-looking eyes.

"You help him one more time," he started, his voice deep and steady, his accent more visible now. "You're out." The thought of being kicked out of the Spider Society made your heart skip a beat. This was all you had. You couldn't go back home. You had nothing there. But you knew Miguel or Jess wouldn't hesitate to send you back if it meant protecting the Multiverse. So you nodded without letting out a word. You understood, even tho you couldn't help but feel pity for him. For Miles. He's still just a kid. But if it meant the multiverse stayed safe, you would do anything to protect it. Even letting Miles' dad die.

"I understand," You kept your head low, not daring to look him in the eyes. You wanted to go and disappear into your room before you felt Miguel's hands grab your face, his talons touching your cheeks, lifting your head up.

"It's the right thing to do." He whispered, his voice a tad softer, but you could still hear the anger filling him. And you've been through this many times to know how this always ends. You didn't fight it. You actually enjoyed it, although you'd never admit it to yourself.

"Yeah, I know." You smiled at him, staring into his bloody eyes. His fangs pierced his lips, causing a drop of blood to drip down his chin. Without thinking, you lifted your hand to brush it off, Miguel carefully watching you. He didn't flinch or move. He let you caress his lips to wash away the blood on his full lips. You didn't even notice you were backed up against a table, Miguel's hand on your waist while the other still held your chin. You dropped your arms, fingers sliding down his torso, not breaking eye contact.

"I made a mistake, I know." You whispered, Miguel tilting his head, his talons carefully caressing your cheek and moving down to your neck. "I've made you angry." He nodded, approving of what you were saying, his eyes following the talons outlining the lines of your collarbones. His claws were so sharp. If he wasn't careful, he could rip your skin apart. And even though he was mad at you, at Lyla, and Miles at everyone, he didn't want to hurt you. There were always other ways to show you his anger and disappointment with you.

"I'm sorry for that, Miguel." You let out, his talons stopping where your heart would be. It was beating fast, blood rushing through your veins. He could feel it all. Hear your inconsistent breath. Feel you tremble beneath him. He could smell the heat between your legs.

"Está bien," his lips formed a little smile, you were sure you were imagining it. His hand moved to your chin again, grabbing you harder, forcing you to look at him. "Just don't obey my orders ever again. Is that clear?" He said out loud, making sure you heard him.

He grabbed your cheeks so hard you couldn't even open your mouth in response. But he knew you understood. And while you were focusing on his one hand grasping your cheeks, you gasped when you felt his other hand rip your suit in half, letting it fall to the floor. The number of torn suits of yours and the number of the new ones that Lyla has made for you, because of this reason. You lost count after seven.

You didn't wear anything under your suit, as it would ruin the lines of your figure, you were fully exposed to him now, his talons moving up and down your stomach. They were cold to the touch, making you hold your breath every time they touched your skin. But they still managed to make your panties wet with arousal. You loved it when he took you like this. Like you were his. Like you belonged to him. You exist just for him. You fucking loved it. Being taken from behind while pulling your hair. His fingers fucking your cunt because you wouldn't stop annoying him. You choking on his cock after he's had enough of your teasing. Being in the Spider Society had its pros and cons. This was one of the pros.

"Eres tan hermosa, arañita". he let out a breath, his talons circling your nipples. If he was so gentle with you, it made your walls clench around nothing. His hands stopped at your ribs, his eyes again scanning your face, head tilted. Like he was thinking about what he wanted to do. What he's gonna do with you tonight. It didn't take him a long time to figure out.

You watched as he placed his strong hands on your shoulders, slightly pushing down. You understood what he wanted. You kneeled in front of him, no questions asked. You've done this so many times, you knew his thoughts by memory. For a few seconds, he just stared at you, naked kneeling in front of him, looking at the massive bulge in his suit. Fuck, he almost came just by looking at you. So desperate for his cock.

You moved your hair out of your face, right before his suit opened, right at his crotch revealing his cock, already covered in precum. He was thick and big, spreading you every time he fucked you. It was a mix of pain and pleasure, making tears fall from your eyes, and orgasm take over your body. He never failed to satisfy you. Never failed to make you beg for more.

"You know what to do," he said, looking down at you, grasping your hair, pulling it slightly. You smiled to yourself, lifting your hands still on your knees and bringing them to his cock. As you grabbed him, your whole hand couldn't fit around him. Made you wetter than before. You decided to tease him a little bit, leaving just slight strokes, not fully touching him, your lips so close to him, he could feel your breath. You regretted it a few minutes after he lost his patience, pushing your head forward, his cock deep inside your mouth.

"Take it, you whore." His hands held your head in place while his hips thrust into your mouth. His cock in your mouth, leaving bruises, your eyes filling with tears. You loved being used like this. You loved being fucked like a slut. You enjoyed it when he called you derogatory names. Sometimes, he mixed it with praise. Fucking you hard, telling you how good of a slut you are for him. He could fuck you with his words without even touching you.

His hips started to move faster, his cock throbbing inside your mouth. He was close. And he was gonna cum on your tongue. Just how you liked it.

"Fuck," he growled, his hold on your head losing strength which confirmed he would finish in your mouth. "So good around my cock," he whispered to himself, fucking your mouth harder, making sure to leave bruises. To mark you as his.

"I'm-." Before he managed to finish the sentence, his cum started to fill your mouth, warming your tongue. He stayed there for a while, recovering before pulling out, breathing heavily. He watched you as you swallowed his load, licking your fingers after cleaning your lips. Fuck, you looked so good.

"You look so good when I fuck your mouth," he smiled at you, trying to push away the sweaty hair on your forehead. You looked so beautiful, kneeling in front of him, your tits out, your cheeks and eyes red, sweat dripping down your forehead. You were a mess already, and he had just begun.

"Stand up," he commanded. You had some trouble getting up after sitting for so long, Miguel noticed and helped you by lifting you up and sitting you down on the table in front of him. He was still so huge, your eyes facing his stomach. You both loved the size difference.

"I want you to be quiet," he said, his eye redder than before. "You're not gonna make a single sound, or I'll stop. Do you understand?" You nodded your head, understanding completely. You've already been through this. Many times, he left you all spread out in his bed because you couldn't keep quiet. Forcing you to deal with it on your own, but nothing ever felt good as his tongue or his cock.

"Good girl," he said, staring into your eyes, his talons digging into your thighs as he spreads me apart. Your cunt is so wet, the smell hits him in the nose. All he's done was fuck your throat and you were already soaking wet for him. He couldn't help but laugh to himself. He didn't break eye contact as his hand traveled down between your legs, making you bring your hand to your mouth to not make any noise as he touched your bare cunt. His fingers on your wet clit, gently moving up and down.

"No así, mi dulce." He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. It was too fast, you didn't have time to think as he turned you around fast, pushing you down, your tits touching the cold wood of the table. Ass up, and bend over. His favorite view. Just waiting to get fucked like a slut.

You should have known he wouldn't stop at this, as he also took your arms, forcing them apart and sticking them to the edge of the table with his web shooters. His feet kicked your legs, so they were more apart from each other.

"Joder, eres tan jodidamente hermosa." He whispered as he stepped back to take a better look at you. Bent down over the work table, legs apart, ass up, your tits pushed against the wood, and your arms tied up by his web shooters. So ready for him. Ready to get fucked in the ass by him. He loved the control he had over you. He cherished every second of it.

You felt his talons, going up and down your spine as you lay there, waiting for him to use you. He bent down to your ear, his fangs digging into your earlobe. "If you want me to stop, now is the time, sweetie," He whispered gently, awaiting your answer. You nodded your head.

"Good," he smiled, stepping back again as he took off his hologram suit, his brought shoulders and back visible to the world. You wish you could have seen him exposed, just like you, in the middle of an open office. Anyone could've walked in and seen you being fucked like a slut. But anyone with common sense knew not to bother Miguel now. So you were safe. And for Lyla? She's probably in here somewhere. But this was nothing she hadn't seen before.

Miguel's fingers brushed over your wet clit, testing you, if you make any noises. He was determined to break you tonight. When you stayed silent, he kneeled, attaching his fat tongue to you. That's when he heard a little whimper out of you. You could feel his cold fangs touching your lips, but you know he wouldn't use them like this. There were other places where he loved burying them inside of you. As your thoughts were occupied with his fangs, his tongue started to move faster, licking up and down your slit, his hands spreading your ass cheeks apart.

"Tastes so good," he growled against your cunt, sending shivers down your spine. His tongue and mouth were one of your favorite things about him. The way be devoured your cunt every single time. He could yell at you about how you're useless and only causing problems, but seconds later, he'd be on his knees, eating you out like he'd never eaten before. You could crumble on his tongue, and see stars and worlds just by the way he worked on your cunt.

You tried so hard to keep quiet as his tongue kept working on you, preparing you for his cock. His hands were still grabbing your ass you were sure he left a mark. He loved showing others you were his. That you loved being fucked and used by him.

You felt your orgasm approaching before you felt his tongue disappear and heard him get up, standing now behind you, staring at your cunt. The room was quiet, only his heavy breathing filling the silence. You weren't sure how you were gonna keep silent, and you were sure you were gonna fail.

"Tan bonito para mi," he smirked, grabbing his cock and stroking himself for a while before his tip touched your entrance. "No hagas un sonido." He said before slamming himself deep inside of you, spreading your cunt with his fat cock. You wanted to cry out, scream his name, but you didn't. Your walls surrounded him, his cock so deep inside of you, if you had free hands you could feel him by touching your lower belly.

"Mierda," you heard him whisper before he gently moved his hips back and slammed into you again. His thrusts slowly began to be harder and faster, making sure he didn't cause you any unnecessary pain. After he was sure and by your muffled moans, he started to pound into you like an animal holding your hips, his talons digging into your skin. His fat cock hitting all the spots in your cunt, your eyes rolling in the back of your head, making you see stars. You never wanted this moment to end. You kinda wished Miles Morales would stick around to piss off Miguel more often. You certainly liked the results of his anger.

"Miguel," you moaned, quickly regretting it and pressing your forehead against the table, hoping Miguel didn't hear it. You knew he did when he stopped his movements, his cock still deep inside of you. You felt him bend over, lips to your ears, fangs making an appearance again.

"¿Qué dijiste, querida?" he asked calmly, one hand on the table to stable himself and the other one caressing your back. You quickly shook your head, not daring to meet his gaze. You were so close, and he stopped. Fuck.

You wanted to apologize and beg him to continue, but he spoke first. "I'm not gonna stop." He whispered in your ear before slowly moving his lips down, his cold fangs touching your skin. "I'm gonna make it so much worse." His voice was calm, and you could hear him smirk in it. With his free hand, he ripped off the web shooters holding your arms before lifting you up and pressing you against his chest. He started to pound into you again, talons on your hips and his fangs piercing your skin. The overstimulation of it all made you cry out loud not holding your screams back anymore. You cried his name out before you knew it was gonna get even worse. His free hand moved down your belly to your clit, where he started to spread your lips with his fingers. Fuck.

You didn't know what to focus on first. His talons and fangs marking you as his, his fingers rubbing your clit, or his fat cock pounding into your cunt without mercy. You were tired, and your legs were giving up, but the pleasure taking over your body. You've never felt that ever before.

You were close, too close, and Miguel knew it. "Cum for me," he growled into your skin, taking out his fangs and sucking on the blood spilling from the wound. His fingers started to move faster in your clit, his cock not changing pace in fucking you. "Show me how much you love being my good little whore." He whispered into your ear and with the next thrust of his, you came hard on his cock, your walls almost crushing him. You wanted to fall down but Miguel's arms held you close to him, not stopping pounding into your already sensitive and overstimulated pussy. He was close himself, but you could feel another orgasm approaching as he kept fucking into you restlessly.

"Miguel, fuck." You moaned, his hand moving up to play with your bouncing tits. You could feel him coming closer, this time, same as you. With his last thrust, you came on his cock again and he followed you shortly after. His cum filling you up, marking you as his. You fell onto the table, trying to recover yourself, Miguel's cock still deep inside of you.

You felt his hands lean against your back as he himself tried to catch his breath. Both of you stayed like that for minutes before Miguel pulled out of you, turning you carefully against him and picking you up, bridal style. You didn't care where he was taking you, you were so fucked up you didn't pay attention to anything.

You realized he put you into a bath, filled with hot water that smelled like vanilla. Miguel followed you and sat behind you, pulling you on his lap.

"You did good," he whispered into your ear and started to wash your body from the mess you two made. "I'm proud of you," His lips met your cheek, and a smile spread across your face. You let him wash your sensitive body while you relaxed in his arms, slowly drifting to sleep.

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