#big hips galore

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining using a secluded space on base to do some yoga away from the 141, only to realize Ghost's been watching disapprovingly the whole time.

Like, what you lack in raw strength compared to the boys, you have in agility. You're not nearly as rigid. You're flexible, and it's only because you take the time to work on it. You have several methods but dancing and yoga are by far your favorite.

Neither hobby you can enjoy on base much, because well...you always get stared at. So, you take it upon yourself to clear out part of old studio space used for storage. It's kind of crappy, with cracked tile and dust bunnies galore, but it'll do. You play some music in your earbuds and do your beginning stretches on your mat.

When you're in the zone you're in the zone. You end up in a place far away and yet still within yourself. The burning stretch from some of your maneuvers feels so good you nearly groan. You get lost in the personal meditation. One certain position uses a specific pair of muscles in your lower back. It takes you a moment to realize why it makes you gasp. You bite your lip and decide to take a short break.

As you untangle your body you feel something's off. You're physically fine, but your heart starts to race. Your stomach lurches. You move to stand, suddenly startled by seemingly nothing.

"Yer doing it wrong."

And just like that Ghost makes himself known from behind a shelf. He's in his workout clothes, which isn't much but some slinky basketball shorts and a tank top. Black of course. His mask is the soft one he uses when he's not on the field.

You scoff at him, still feeling on edge but also relieved at no immediate threat.

"You do yoga?" You ask incredulously. "Fine, big guy. Show me how it's done."

He rolls out a mat and gestures for you to copy him. It's a simple move, one you've perfected. And yet he still shakes his head at your form. You try it again. Wrong. Again. Wrong.

"Where am I going wrong?"

You don't expect him to reach over and grab your back leg. He pulls it out further. You stumble and he rights you with the same arm. He tuts at you, but he's the reason you're off balance.

"Lift your back. No. Higher. Your hip should be down."

Next thing you know he's behind you, his large hands making your body twist and bend. You end up in the same position as you'd been in earlier, but this time you can really feel the stretch. Maybe he was right, you were doing it wrong.

You tilt your back up and feel the familiar stretch. It's better than you've ever been able to get it on your own. You can't help the soft groan that leaves your lips. The last time those muscles had been used was before you joined the 141, when you'd still had a boyfrie-

Two hands grab at those spots. Large thumbs work circles into the areas. Despite yourself, you moan. This was going a bit too far but...

The more he kneads the more you fall to your knees. You can't hold the position with your back up anymore. You practically collapse onto the mat, ass up, Ghost knelt over you.

He still doesn't let up. His thumbs dig into those circles hard enough it should hurt but instead you only feel bliss. You bite your lip, it feels so fucking good. Eventually he relents, and stops digging into you. You whine at the absence.

"That feels so good." You groan, voice sounding way too needy for what just occurred.

"M' glad." Ghost huffs amusement evident in his tone.

Ghost grabs you and flips you over onto your back. He grabs one of your legs and pushes it as far forward towards your head as he can without hurting you. He does the same to the other. It's a weird position, but it's not far off from some of the other ones you're used to. It burns but it also feels good. Considering you're flat on your back, you feel supported.

You smile up at him, a little breathless but also happy that he's willing to help you out. Yoga did not seem like something any where near his wheelhouse.

"I didn't know you liked yoga. How did you learn about this stuff?" You ask, using your own arms to hold your legs in position as Ghost gets up higher on his knees.

Ghost huffs behind his mask as he looks down at you. He narrows his eyes, his head blocking out the white light of the overhead flourescents. You feel a hand slide between the material of your shorts and the curve of your ass.

"The Kama Sutra."

#cod imagines #mw2 #call of duty #mw2 headcanons #simon ghost riley #cod mwii #simon riley x reader

[r4spb3rr13s]

pro heroes meeting their feisty, mcbling gf

♱ bakugou, kirishima, midoriya, dabi

♱ pt.2 here!

note: it’s me, i’m the feisty mcbling gf 😞

Katsuki has been on shift for what feels like hours. In reality… well it has been hours. He’s been patrolling a smaller, more mundane part of Tokyo, where all he’s done is help little old ladies with their groceries and scold kids for trying to steal candy.

He was dying to get home.

So, when he heard a scream five minutes from patrol ending, the groan he let out was loud, unprofessional and frankly, really douche-y of him. But still, he flew towards the alley it echoed from.

He turned the corner, expecting a damsel in distress…

Only to see you.

Beating a man with a Juicy Couture suede bag, wobbling on platform sandals.

While this man lets out the girliest, highest-pitched screams Katsuki has ever heard in his life.

“That’s.” Hit. “What.” Hit. “You.” Hit. “Get!” Big hit!

Katsuki blinks out of his trance and takes a booming step toward you. “What the fuck’s goin on?”

You gasp and look up, and Katsuki swears his heart is echoing out of his chest.

Your s/c skin is everywhere, from your jean shorts to the cleavage practically spilling out your leopard print zip-up, and as you straighten up, he catches a glimpse of a belly ring that makes him gulp.

Your hair frames your face with a pair of sunglasses at the top of your head, showing off a fantastic scowl. Glittery eyes are met with furrowed brows, decorated with piercings-galore on your face, and two big hoops either side of your head.

“This prick!” You punctuate it with a nudge of your painted-pink toe, “Tried to rob me! I kneed him in his tiny balls.”

Katsuki raises a brow. You take a minute to glare at the guy, still whimpering, before you strut towards him with narrowed eyes.

You hate to admit it, but Dynamight was hotter in real life. Soot is smeared on his cheek and the scowl on his face sends his ruby-red lasers shooting through you.

“What? You have a staring problem?” You ask with a hand on your hip. Every ounce of confidence you’re letting off is soooo clearly fake right now, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

He shakes his head and looks around you to the poor guy on the floor. He’s not going anywhere, still curled up in a feral position and cradling his nads.

Katsuki sweats.

“Alright, sweetheart-”

You try to pretend it doesn’t make your heart skip a beat.

“Sweetheart?” He freezes and looks down at your cocked brow. “At least take me out for a drink first, Mr. Dynamight, c’mon.”

He clears his throat awkwardly, “Shit- sorry, I didn’t- look, you’re okay, right? No injuries?”

You’re inspecting your nails at this point, trying to avoid looking at the muscles in his hero costume. “Huh? Nah, but he should probably get checked out. Am I good to go?”

You sound eager to leave, but you make no move to when he nods.

Instead, you stand, scrutinising him with crossed arms. Katsuki hates to admit it, but even standing a whole foot taller than you, you’re making the blond blush.

“Okay, what? You need somethin’?” He gruffly says.

You glance back at the idiot still on the floor, and he flinches at your gaze.

“You don’t need my number for a report or somethin’?”

The words leave your mouth sooner than you can stop them, but you keep your face cool as your turn around. God, you need a smoke after this.

Katsuki’s hearts skips a beat, but his lip quirks up and he huffs out a chuckle. He reaches into one his pockets, and passes you his phone.

He’s still blushing, but God that man is grinning as well.

:::

Eijiro is mid-lat pulldown when he hears you through the full blast of his headphones. Being the manly pro he is, he takes an earbud out to hear the commotion.

“When I say fuck off, I mean fuck off! What part of that isn’t get through your thick skull?”

Eijiro watched as you scream in a steroid-fueled gym-bro’s face. You’re jabbing a pink nail in his chest, neon pink shorts matching to a sports bra and a small hoodie on your top half.

He gets off the machine, and a loud clang echoes through the gym - you don’t even notice.

“What, too much muscle blocking your brain from working?”

The guy is getting ready to respond, an ugly, violent grimace on his face. As Eijiro steps behind you and crosses his arms, the guy thinks twice.

He nods at you, and turns away, practically running.

You huff and tuck a loose piece of hair behind your hair.

“What was that?”

You jump at the voice and spin around with a shout. A chest- Jesus Christ, he’s tall. You’re face-to-chest with a man covered in muscle, a sharp-toothed smile and spiky, red hair to match it.

“Oh!”

…

…

He raises a brow and smiles at you.

A blush is fighting it’s way onto your face, but you’re too cool for that. Way too cool. So you clear your throat and stop staring at his adorable face for a minute.

“He wasn’t taking no for an answer,” You huff and cross your arms.

Eijiro frowns, “Shit, that sucks. Do you come here often?”

…

It’s your turn to raise a brow.

His face turns as red as his hair when he realises how stupid that sounded. It’s weirdly endearing watching such a large man blush and panic in front of you.

“N-no, like, I can get him banned if you’re a regular. I know the owners, so-”

“Where do I know you from?” You cut him off, doing mental gymnastics.

Eijiro freezes as he watches you. Your thick lashes touch your brows as you go wide-eyed, staring at him intently. So intently, he’s terrified to move a muscle.

You click your fingers and point a sparkly nail at his chest, “Red Riot! I knew I recognised you from somewhere.”

He grins and shrugs. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“I mean,” You trail off for a minute, using all your self-restraint to not blush or stutter in front of this fine-ass man, “if you ever wanted to come to rescue again, I could just give you my number?”

Eijiro has never grabbed his phone faster in his life.

:::

Izuku has been caught in the midst of little fans. Children are detaching themselves from parents, flying away from friend groups to crowd around for his autograph. He’s reminded again why he always wears a cap and glasses when he goes to the mall.

He just needed to pick up a pair of boxers, for Gods sake.

A little boy comes hurtling at him, but such is the norm. What he doesn’t see is the girl sprinting after him- sprinting in platform heels that is.

Jeans cling to you tighter than your zebra print top, and the tiny handbag on your shoulder keeps slipping down. Every step you take is a loud jingle with the massive array of jewellery you have on, and star-shaped clips in your hair keep slipping out.

“Deku! You’re the coole-”

“Isamu! Get back here!” You screech. Your sister was going to kill you if she knew the one time you took your nephew out for a little trip to the mall, you lost him.

Watching him talk to a stranger was almost the cherry on top.

You come to a skidding stop, somehow not hurtling over on your open-toed death machines, and grab the 5 year old by the armpits. Isamu let’s out an excited shriek and smiles at you.

Then he points to the guy.

That guy being the number one hero in Japan.

You nearly drop your nephew.

“Oh my God-”

“I’m so sorry-”

You both speak at the same time, then shut up, and just stare at each other like two idiots. He’s not in his costume - duh, idiot, he’s at the mall?- but he looks just as good as he does with his face plastered all over Tokyo.

Strong arms are straining the seams of his black shirt, and his dark hair is brushing the nape of his neck- it looks so soft-

“I’m really sorry, I should have come out with my hat on, sunglasses-”

“Please do not apologise for looking that good,” You mutter and roll your eyes. Then you freeze. Then you both look at each other, while you nibble your lip and smear your lipgloss everywhere.

“Deku! Can I have your auto map!” Isamu screeches from your arms, wiggling like a worm. It’s getting hard to hold him, so you plop him down and hold his hand instead.

“Autograph, buddy, not auto map,” You whisper in his ear.

Izuku’s heart skips a beat. You are gorgeous, silly and amazing with kids- I mean, what else could he really ask for?

He nods and crouched to Isamu’s height.

“Who am I making it out to, then?”

Isamu screams his government name so loud you want to cover your ears, but you just smile awkwardly at Izuku crouching under you.

He looks at you with his big, doe eyes and a soft smile. “What about you?”

“Oh, no, I don’t want an autograph-”

“Your name?”

Oh shit. You mutter it and watch with a smile as the pro scrawls on a notebook he miraculously pulled out from his arse. His round, perky-

“There you go, Isamu. It was great meeting you,” He pats your nephew’s head, who is practically beaming. “It was nice meeting you too, Y/n,” he adds, and turns away with a wave.

As you walk away, Isamu thrusts the paper in your hand.

“LOOK AT IT AUNTIE Y/N!!”

‘if it’s not too forward, id like you text me sometime y/n :)’ and next to the note is his number.

Cheeky bitch.

:::

Dabi has no fucking idea how he ended up in a bar blasting Kesha from the speakers with millennial women screaming ‘this was my party song!’ but he hates it.

Until he sees you.

You’re in the tiniest jean skirt he’s ever seen, and your ass cheeks are so close to popping out. If you’d just stopped swaying your hips and bend over, he’d get a glimpse-

But you turn around, and he watches you twist and turn in a matching halter top, jewellery adding rhythms to the music.

Dabi swears he has never seen anything as captivating as your baby pink lips mouth along to Die Young. God, was he really thinking that? In relation to Kesha? You must be special, he thinks to himself.

He makes no move, though. He sits at the bar, watching you tip back fruity cocktails and teeter on your fur-covered boots.

He looks away for a second, he swears, and suddenly you’re on the bar stool next to him. Not just sat, but staring. Like, blatantly staring right at him.

He mirrors you, leaning on his palm and watching you.

You’d be lying if you tried to say his cerulean eyes weren’t doing something to you, but there were more pressing issues at hand.

“You’ve been staring at me all night.”

It’s a fact, he has been.

A smile curls onto his lips, and he shifts so he’s closer to you. “Have I? Didn’t notice…”

You’re drunk. Like, much too drunk, because his face is a blur- a handsome blur though. You are aware enough to tell he’s staring at your tits, though.

You click your fingers in his face and he looks back up at you. There’s a moment on his face where he looks shocked, but a bigger smirk replaces it.

“Sorry, hun-”

“Hun? What am I, 5?”

He leans forward, and the overwhelming stench of a beach fire is fighting with your Britney Spears perfume. The air starts to smell like burnt sugar around you, and it’s weirdly compelling.

“What do you want me to call you then?”

“Well, you’ll need my number to call me.”

It takes you a minute to realise how dumb that was- you’re drunk and that is not what he meant, but it made him drop the cool boy act. He stared at you for a second with wide eyes before chuckling under his breath.

“You are somethin’, princess…”

“Princess?”

“Yeah, the skirt and all the pink- very princessy,” He gestured to your outfit before pulling out… a burner phone.

You really should not have drank that much, because you don’t even care to question it as you’re typing you digits in.

note: ffs i didn’t make izuku’s gf feisty enough 😞

#{ mcbling baddie } #bnha x reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader #bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #eijiro #eijiro kirishima #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader #izuku #izuku midoriya #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #dabi #dabi x reader #bnha x mcbling reader

[lup-ines]

lust and astrology (part two): where your partner is extra sensitive based on their mars sign (my personal theory)

by lup-ines

in astrology each sign rules a different part of the body

i have been messing around with a theory that this can possibly be helpful in regards to intimacy.

theory: knowing the mars sign of your partner can give you insight on what area you should pay extra attention to in order to have the most pleasurable experience

(this could also apply to moon and venus, but for now let’s focus on mars sign it is the planet of sex)

aries mars:

the sign of aries rules the head and the eyes

- hair pulling, running your fingers through their hair

- maintaining eye contact during intimacy

taurus mars:

the sign of taurus rules the throat, neck, and the shoulders

- neck kissing (this is a big one for them!!)

- massaging the neck, shoulders as foreplay

gemini mars:

the sign of gemini rules the hands, lungs, and nervous system

- breath play

- deep breathing while orgasming

- putting them in a state of relaxation before sex

- adding sensory elements to the bed room (ice, candle wax, essential oils, scented lotions etc)

cancer mars:

the sign of cancer is ruled by the chest, the stomach and the breast

- nipple play

- caressing/kissing their chests

- cooking them a nice home cooked meal as foreplay

leo mars:

the sign of leo is ruled by heart, spine, upper back

- doing activities related to the heart chakra during intimacy (ex, aftercare, showing gratitude, praise, compliments)

- back massages/kisses

- sex that is fast and rough (I feel like this is just a fire sign mars thing tbh)

virgo mars:

the sign of virgo is ruled by abdomen, spleen, and digestive system

- slowly kissing down their stomach

- like gemini mars they may enjoy sensory elements in the bed room (ex, candle wax, whip cream, ice etc)

- showing an effort around setting the mood (ex; rose petals on bed, planning a nice date before)

libra mars:

the sign of libra is ruled by the kidneys, lower back, bladder, and endocrines

- body worshipping

- any positions that requires hitting it from the back

- sensual and tender is usually the way to go with these folks

scorpio mars

the sign of scorpio rules the genitals, reproductive system, and rectum

- fellatio/cunnalingus is a favourite for people with this placement

- finishing inside of your partner

- backdoor play!

sagittarius mars:

the sign of sagittarius rules the hips, thighs and liver

- another doggy style enthusiast!

- ass play, ass jobs

- face/thigh riding

- grabbing their hips/waist during intimacy

capricorn mars:

the sign of capricorn rules the bones, joints, skin, and teeth

- being tied up/tying up your partner

- may enjoy bdsm

- biting/scratching during intimacy (ex; raking your nails down your partners back)

aquarius mars:

the sign of aquarius rules the shins, calves, and circulatory system

- trying new exciting things in bed, being experimental

(I honestly had trouble thinking of things for this one)

pisces mars:

the sign of pisces rules the feet and lymphatic system

- foot fetish galore!!

- foot massages/foot play really gets them going (even as a pisces rising i can confirm this, it’s just a pisces thing!)

- they may also enjoy breath play

- steamy shower sex and or sex in water

i would love to hear your insights on this let me know what you think!

love always,

clémence

#lust and astrology #astrology #mine #Aries #Taurus #Gemini #Leo #Virgo #Scorpio #sagittarius #Capricorn #Pisces #libra #cancer #Aquarius #18+ #sex astrology #astrology observations #sexandastrology

[aemondsbabe]

What is Owed

summary: the gold cloaks raid the brothel, you make a deal to secure your freedom

pairing: harwin strong x lyseni!reader x daemon targaryen

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is briefly described as having lyseni features (pale hair, purple eyes) but no other physical descriptors are used, mentions of sex work, reader is a sex worker, breast/nipple play, dirty talk, double penetration, piv sex, anal sex, anal fingering, regular fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, double creampie oh jeez, oral (m receiving), handjobs, hands on necks, "whore" is used both as a pet name and degradingly we love innovation, big hulking men idk, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 7.7k

a/n: so sorry for being away! wasn't intentional, just busy with life things! but god i missed writing and i'm so happy to finally have this one done! daddies galore!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

❤️my masterlist

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A barely concealed sigh of disgust leaves your lips, which remain pulled into a tight, docile smile as some lord, whose name you couldn’t be bothered to remember, finally finishes over your bare chest with a beastly grunt, his hips twitching as you stroke him through it. 

Took his sweet time, you think as you rise to your feet and quickly grab one of the spare cloths stashed in the nearby vanity to wipe his spend from your chest. Depositing the cloth in a nearby basket, you take a moment to right your dress and run your fingers through your pale hair. Finally, you turn back around and eye the man still lying across the ornate chaise catching his breath. 

You glance at his trousers, still haphazardly piled on the floor, before checking him once more, smirking when you see that his eyes are still closed. Carefully, you make your way over to his trousers and kneel once more as you grab for the heap of fabric; keeping your eyes on him, you swiftly rifle through the pockets and smile triumphantly as you pull a few coins from one – one golden dragon, three copper stars, and a half-penny. 

Grinning, you toss the man’s trousers back onto the floor before quickly grabbing the small coin purse you keep tucked away beneath the chaise, way back toward the wall and covered by the ends of one of the red satin curtains that cover the windows of the brothel – the perfect hiding spot until you can move them to the more secure lock-box beneath your bed. 

“Mmph,” the lord sighs, stirring finally just as you drop the last coin into your pouch. Shoving it back beneath the chaise, you quickly rise to your feet with a placid smile just as he finishes stretching. 

“Some wine for you, my lord,” you smile, keeping your voice light and sweet in just the way the Madam likes as you offer him a goblet, “To replenish your strength.”

“Yes, yes,” the older man mumbles, paying you no mind as he busies himself with the buttons on his tunic, “Fetch me my trousers,” he commands, brushing you off with a wave of his hand. 

“Of course, my lord,” you nod, teeth gritting as you set the goblet back down before grabbing his blasted trousers with an eye roll. He all but snatches them from you with a pompous little hum, not even looking in your direction. Once again behaving as the Madam demands, you merely stand by while he redresses, hands clasped demurely in front of you as you wait to be of service once again, or, hopefully, to kindly escort him to the door. 

You don’t mind working in the brothel, not really, especially knowing that it could be much worse – you could’ve ended up as one of the many beggars that line the streets of Flea Bottom or, more dreadful still, stuck as a slave back home. It was luck, really, that brought you to the brothel in the first place, back when you were still stumbling half-blind with grief around the fish market by the docks only to be plucked up by chance by a few of the girls from the brothel. They’d brought you back here, promising that the Madam would take you in, that you’d earn great money with your exotic looks. 

One of those things had been true – the Madam was very happy to take you in. Technically, you do also make great money… for the brothel; only a small percentage is ever paid back to the workers and, for your circumstances, that just won’t do. Which is precisely why you sometimes took a little tip for yourself, especially if your client for the evening was of higher status; it’s not as if they’d miss, or even notice, a few missing coins. 

As far as you’re concerned, it’s a flawless system. 

You’re brought out of your short reverie by another sigh from the lord as he polishes off the goblet of wine you’d offered some moments ago and once more, your lips quirk up into a pleasing smile, “Leaving so soon, my lord?”

“Mm,” he merely grumbles before flashing you a lecherous grin, his yellowed teeth making your stomach turn, “Worry not, girl, I’ll be back before the tournament’s over.”

“Wonderful,” you sigh, grimacing internally as you make a half-step toward the arched doorway, “I’ll see you out.” Blessedly, the lord makes no more of a fuss and lets you lead him to the entryway, sparing you one final nod before slipping down the dimly lit street. 

You remain in the doorway for a moment more, arms crossed over your chest as you gaze outside, relishing the feel of the cool night air against your skin. After a moment, though, your eyes narrow when you realize the streets seem much quieter than usual. At this hour, there would normally be more people about – some returning from a long day of work, others already stumbling around drunk, but tonight there were only a few scattered people roaming about. 

“Strange…,” you murmur to yourself, absentmindedly running a finger over the gold chain around your neck, your fingers brushing over the small key hanging from it. Sparing a glance up at the Dragonpit looming on the nearby hill, you finally close the door with a shrug. Returning to the room you’d serviced the lord in, you glance around quickly to make sure the coast is clear before you retrieve the small coin purse from beneath the chaise, smiling at the weight of it as you carry it swiftly back to your bed, to your little lockbox, wholly unaware of the envious gaze on your back. 

“Commander on the floor!” One of the Gold Cloaks shouts as Daemon prowls into the hall, a self-righteous smirk on his lips as the drum of fists against chest plates ceases. 

“When I took command of the Watch, you were stray mongrels,” he growls, dark violet eyes surveying the men around him, “Starving and undisciplined!” 

He pauses for a second, heart pounding with the heady sensation of power as he prepares to do what his dear older brother cannot – punish. Too long have the streets of King’s Landing, of his city gone to the Seven Hells; controlled by crime and near-anarchy when they should be controlled by him, by the dread of his authority. 

“Now, you’re a pack of hounds,” his voice rises as he speaks, as he breathes life into his men, “You’re sated and honed for the hunt!”

Howls erupt around the hall, making the prince’s lips stretch into a vicious grin – his men were ready, ready to rule with the iron fist Viserys lacked. 

“My brother’s city has fallen into squalor!” He says, pacing down the room, “Crime of every breed has been allowed to thrive!”

His chainmail clinks with each of his heavy steps, pride swelling in his chest as many of the soldiers nod their heads along with him. It was true, after all, everyone knew it. Viserys may have the crown, the damned throne, but the dragonfire in his veins had run cold long ago. The blood in Daemon’s burns hot, however; centuries of power and glory fuel his fires, flowing through him like the lava in the Dragonmont. 

“No longer,” he grunts, pausing at the end of the hall, the silken cloth draped over his shoulders shining in the light of the torches lining the room as he turns to eye his men, smirking at the blood lust evident on their faces, “Beginning tonight, King’s Landing will learn to fear the color gold!”

A loud bang wakes you sometime later and you sit up with a small gasp, clutching the linen bed sheets. Whipping your head around, you can see the dark night sky still looms heavily over the city through the slats in the window – you must’ve not been asleep very long. 

Another cry from somewhere outside finally gets you moving and you quickly wrap yourself in an embroidered silk robe, tying it loosely around your waist as you move closer to the door, your ears perked at the sound of frantic whispers. Poking your head through the beaded curtain that separates the sleeping quarters from one of the hallways, you finally spot a familiar face in the dim candlelight. 

“Genna!” You whisper, waving one of the other working girls over, “What’s going on, what’s happened?”

“Gold Cloaks!” She hisses, working quickly to stuff an armful of dresses into a small bag, “They’ve gone mad, they’re rounding up damn near everyone out there!”

“Gone mad?” You echo, brows pinching together as you look toward the entrance, another muffled cry from outside catching your attention, along with the sounds of metal clanging against metal. 

Genna merely nods as she practically shoves past you to get into the room before quickly loading her bag with various perfumes, oils, and loose jewelry from one of the vanities, “One of the regulars came by, woke everyone up,” she explains as she quickly ties the bag off, “They’re taking in anyone who’s so much as nicked an apple from the market.”

Your eyes go wide at her words, head ringing as blood rushes to your cheeks. Thankfully, she seems too busy to notice you glance warily at your bed, knowing your lockbox with weeks worth of lifted coins is tucked neatly below it. 

“I’m telling you, if you’ve pocketed even one extra groat, you’re as good as dead,” She shakes her head as she slings her bag over one shoulder, “Get out while you can, yeah? I think they’re a ways away st–”

A deafening crash from the front of the building cuts her off, the both of you shrieking. Your heart pounds in your chest at the sound of men’s voices; yours and Genna’s heads swivel to face one another at the same time before you both glance at the large wardrobe in the corner of the room – big enough for someone to climb inside of. 

It seems you both have the same idea at the same time, each of you scrambling toward the cupboard. She’s a second behind you, though, her hefty bag slowing her by an instant and she yelps as you pull the wooden doors closed, pinching one of her fingers. You push yourself as far back in the cramped space as you can, trying to tuck yourself behind the hanging coats and dresses.

Finally, you stay as still as possible, chest heaving as your back presses into the wood behind you. You hear a muffled curse from Genna before she shrieks as heavy footsteps flood into the room. 

“Shut it, whore!” A guard yells and the sound of a harsh slap makes you cover your mouth with a hand. 

“Careful!” A different voice shouts as more heavy footsteps sound outside, “She’s a woman, not a shadowcat,” the new voice admonished, “Take her outside with the others, then go ahead and take the wagons to the dungeons below the Keep. No harm is to come to any of them, understood?”

“But the Commander sai–”

“I don’t give a shit what the Commander said,” the man all but growled, “I am your superior still, soldier, you take orders from me; I’ll worry about him. The night’s gotten out of hand as it is.”

“Yes, Captain,” the first man grumbles after a second. Heavy footsteps sound for an instant before Genna shrieks again, “I said shut it, whore!” The man’s voice is a bit muffled this time, further away. 

“Tell the Commander I’m searching in here!” The second voice calls out gruffly; silently, you curse. 

You hold yourself as still as possible as the muffled sounds of opening drawers and cabinets sound from outside the wardrobe, slowly but surely getting closer to you. Your heart leaps into your throat as the wardrobe doors are tugged open, yet you hold yourself still and squeeze your eyes closed, a naïve part of you hoping the soldier would just overlook you.

Of course that doesn’t happen. 

“I do see you, you know,” the gruff voice sighs, his eyes on you, “Come on, out,” he commands. 

Finally, you open your eyes and peek at him through gaps of fabric, warily taking in his appearance. Your eyes widen at his size, truly a mountain of a man, with curly dark hair and matching dark eyes, clad in metal plate armor with a familiar golden cloak around his shoulders. The look in his eyes is neutral, if not sympathetic, but you still don’t move, rooted to the spot. 

With another sigh, he shakes his head at you and beckons you forward with a wave of his hand, “Please make this easy.” 

When you still don’t move after a few more seconds, the man grumbles and reaches in, shoving past various articles of clothing until he grabs at your forearm and pulls you, stumbling, from the wardrobe. 

“Let me go!” You cry, struggling in his grasp like a fish on a line, “Let me go, damn you! I haven’t done anything!” You shriek loudly, uselessly kicking your feet as he holds you steady at arms length. 

“Easy!” The dark-haired man shouts over your screeches, “If you’ll just calm–”

“What’s this?” Another voice questions from the doorway, making both of you pause. Your eyes widen when you see the man, dressed in the same gold cloaked armor as the one holding you, though this one has purple eyes and pale white hair cascading over his shoulders, complete with a familiar face you’d seen before in the shadowy corners of the brothel, “Is that her?”

Her? You balk, glancing between the two men, They were looking for me?

The brunette stays silent for a moment, bushy brows furrowed together as he looks between you and the prince, brown eyes meeting two sets of purple, “She’s not… one of his, is she?” He asks quietly, only confusing you more. 

Prince Daemon merely chuckles and shakes his head as he traipses toward you with a smirk. “Ohh, no, definitely not,” he mutters, squeezing your cheeks in one large, gloved hand as he forces your face to lift up toward his, “No, my dearest brother would never dare betray his wife so.”

He tilts your head from side to side, studying your face carefully, before making you face him once again as the other guard keeps hold of your arm, “What’s your name, girl?”

You glance between the men, caged in between their large frames, before finally telling them, each syllable merely a whisper on your lips.

The prince repeats it with a smug smile, the sound of your name on his tongue makes your head spin. “Ah, see, just as I thought,” he smirks, a pleased twinkle in his violet eyes, “A Lyseni whore.”

The other man merely grunts, though you don’t miss the way his dark brown eyes flit over your form appreciatively. Daemon moseys around the room, eyes scanning over the row of matching twin beds lined against one wall. “Which is yours?”

“I… I don’t sleep in here, my pr–”

“Lying won’t do you any good, you know,” he smirks, “We’ve had eyes and ears all over the city for months, including here. So, I’ll ask again. Which bed?”

You hesitate, only for a moment, before nodding at the bed to the far right. Your mind reels as Daemon begins his search, Someone was spying in here? One of the other girls?

“Aha!” He says after only a moment and your heart sinks as he pulls your small wooden lockbox out from its hiding spot. He drops it down onto your bed with a gloating smirk and you glance up just in time to see one of the prince’s pale hands reaching for the key at your neck, easily tugging it off the chain as you gasp and jerk once more in the other man’s grasp. “That was a gift from my father!”

“Daemon, please,” the other man sighs tiredly, scrambling to hold you in place once more, “Was that truly necessary?”

“Don’t start with me, Strong,” the prince huffs, moving to unlock the box, “You’ve spoiled my night of fun enough as is.” A low whistle sounds from his lips as he flips open the lid, quickly shuffling through the various coins, small pieces of jewelry, and other trinkets you’ve managed to swipe. 

“Seems we got the right one after all,” the man holding your arm, the one apparently called Strong, murmurs, nodding toward you.

“Of course we got the right bloody one,” Daemon scoffs, violet eyes rolling in his head, “I only know of two Lyseni whores in this city and it certainly isn’t the other one.” 

“Mysaria!” You whisper lowly, eyes widening as puzzle pieces begin clicking together in your mind.

The prince merely laughs, looking between you and the other knight as if you’ve just told some hilarious joke. “Finally figured it out, eh?” He teases, sauntering over to where you’re still being held. 

As soon as he’s in reach, the guard holding you grabs your other arm as well, holding them both behind your back as if you’d be stupid enough to try anything against two Gold Cloaks. Even if you did manage to free yourself, what would be the point in running now? 

“Seems we have a clever whore on our hands, Strong,” Daemon drawls, grinning when you flinch as he grips your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his once more, “And a pretty one too. You must earn enough to pay your keep, no? A little exotic flower like you is bound to get plucked at often enough.”

You wait for him to continue speaking but he doesn’t, he simply waits, eyes boring into you as if he’s trying to read your thoughts. For all you know, he can – you’ve heard whispers around King’s Landing of how the Targaryens were supposedly closer to Gods than men. 

“I suppose so, my prince,” you all but squeak a moment later, unable to bear the intense silence any longer. 

“Then tell me,” you gasp as he suddenly turns your head, directing your gaze toward the small wooden lockbox strewn open on your bed, “Why does a well paid whore need to steal? Hm?”

“I wasn’t stealing for me!” You blurt, chest heaving.

“Then why do it?” You startle slightly as the knight behind you speaks, his grip on your wrists loosening enough for you to relax some in his grasp. For someone so gruff and intimidating, there was a distinctive warmth to his voice – a soft, kind lilt. 

With a sigh, you glance between the two men before speaking, “I send it back to my family, once every other moon or so.”

“You send money to your family,” Daemon echos, purple eyes narrowed suspiciously, “In Lys, I presume?”

You simply nod, your eyes downcast as the men share a look over your head.

“Why do you need to send them money?” The Strong guard asks as he releases your arms, brown eyes watching you closely. 

“My father was a merchant,” you begin, nervously fiddling with the tie on your robe, “He would travel to Volantis a few times a year to buy the more exotic goods shipped in from cities further east, from the other side of Slaver’s Bay, to bring back to sell in Lys. He could get a better price for them at home, Westerosi ships rarely go any further than our ports and they were willing to pay more.” 

“And then, one time he left for Volantis and… never came back,” you continue, your voice only a raspy whisper as the back of your throat tightens, “We received word some months later that there had been a slave rebellion in the city and that my father had been killed in it. So, now I send money back so that my mother and siblings are able to pay for our house, because in Lys, if you can no longer afford your land you –”

“You risk becoming a slave yourself,” the brunette knight finishes, sighing sympathetically when you nod.

“How very touching,” the prince mutters, though you can see pity clouding his eyes as well. 

“Perhaps we should just let her go,” the Strong guard says after a moment, making you whip your head toward him in shock, “She isn’t a danger to anyone.”

“She may not be,” Daemon says, crossing his arms over his broad chest, “But a drunken, disgruntled lord who’s discovered his gold missing certainly is.”

The brown haired man hums thoughtfully at his reasoning and both of them eye you for a moment, silence falling over the room. 

Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you silently reason that you have two options – convince them to free you or wind up in a cell beneath the Red Keep. Being locked away simply isn’t an option, not for you, as that would mean being unable to send money to your family and although petty theft doesn’t carry the penalty of death, you know that if anything were to happen to them, you’d wish it did. 

Gathering your courage, you look between the two men, eyeing them up and down. “Perhaps,” you start, loosening the tie on your robe just enough to bare your cleavage just a bit more, “I could convince you that I’m worth much more as a free woman?” 

“Little minx,” the prince rasps, stepping toward you and grasping at your jaw once more, “Maybe you’ll prove useful after all,” he says cryptically. 

Before you have time to dwell on his words, he releases you and busies himself with quickly unbuckling his plate armor, letting the chest and torso pieces noisily clank on the floor as they fall against a pile of gold cloth. 

You gasp as Daemon grabs you by the hips and pulls you to him, pressing himself against you tightly as his rough hands roam over your soft curves. You can’t help but giggle as an appreciative grunt leaves his lips, violet eyes darkening as they meet yours. 

“Daemon,” the other guard starts with a sigh, hand resting on the pommel of his sword. 

“Come, ser Strong,” the prince growls, hastily turning you to face the brown eyed man. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you look him up and down, the corners of your lips quirking up into a small smile when you see the flush on his cheeks, “It would be rude to turn down what our little mouse is so generously offering, hm?” The feel of Daemon’s hands on your body makes your eyes flutter closed for just a second, only to snap back open when he roughly grabs at your breasts just as his teeth press against the column of your throat, eliciting a soft cry from you. 

“O-Oh!”

“See? Listen to that,” Daemon says, words muffled against your skin, “She likes it, don’t you?” 

You quickly nod your head yes, head clouded by the feel of the prince’s length as it presses against the small of your back, hard enough to be felt through the trousers they wear under their armor. He chuckles as he suddenly cups your center, the silky fabric of your robe pressing against your already aching flesh, and nips at your neck once more before releasing you. 

“Go,” he murmurs, giving you a gentle push toward the other knight, “Make the stubborn bore more comfortable.”

Biting your lip, you approach the man with a little grin. Standing before him, you move your hand to his shoulder, to the buckles of his plate armor. 

“Is this okay?” 

All he gives you is a curt nod, but it’s enough for you. With another reassuring smile, you pull at the leather buckles, unstrapping them one by one until he grabs at his chest plate and sets it on the floor, more gentle with it than Daemon had been. 

Pausing for a second, you cock your head to the side curiously. “I know him,” you say with a nearly bashful smile, nodding your head at the prince, “But what do I call you, Ser?”

“Harwin, my lady. Just Harwin.”

Still sensing hesitance from him, you decide to be bold and gently take one of his hands and place it on one of your breasts, peering up into his deep brown eyes all the while. Your lips turn up into a pleased smile at the low groan that rumbles from his chest and you marvel at how warm his touch is through your robe, though before you have time to linger on it further, Harwin surges forward and presses his lips against yours. 

You still for a second, not having expected such boldness from a man who had held so much back thus far. Getting your wits about you, you quickly respond in kind and move your lips with his, leaning into him a bit more as you grab at his shoulders. A pleased hum leaves your lips as his hands begin exploring you, seeming to grab and knead at any bits of you he can like he’s been starved for touch for years. 

He groans into the kiss once more when you nip at his bottom lip, prompting him to slip his tongue into your mouth, which earns a small whimper from you as one of your hands slips down from his shoulder to rest on his toned, muscular chest. 

The sudden feel of another presence at your back makes you jump slightly – you’d gotten so wrapped up in Harwin that you’d nearly forgotten that Daemon was still in the room, though the knowledge that he’d been watching the two of you sends an excited zing up your spine. 

“Oh!” You gasp as he begins nipping and biting at your neck once more, soothing the marks he leaves behind with his tongue. Your lips move against Harwin’s as another pair of hands begins exploring you, impatiently tugging at the tie around your waist until your robe falls open. A whine leaves you as the knight’s hands immediately cup your bare breasts, kneading them and savoring the way your soft skin feels against his palms. At the same time, Daemon nearly growls as he presses himself against your ass, grinding his length against you as his hands grip at your hips and waist. 

“I believe you said something about convincing us?” He mutters against your neck, grinning when you pull away from Harwin and meet his gaze as you turn to look over your shoulder, brow raising when you see he’d taken the time to strip off his tunic at some point. 

“Quite right, my prince,” you grin, looking between the two men once more before slipping off your robe, leaving you bare as it pools on the floor. Your cheeks flush at their appreciative groans, skin prickling at the way you can practically feel their eyes on you. 

With another little breath, you lower yourself to your knees between them and immediately skim your hands over their strong thighs. Ever eager, Daemon quickly unties his trousers, a predatory gleam in his purple eyes as he frees his hardening length. 

You bite your bottom lip at the sight of it and quickly reach up to wrap a hand around it, marveling at the way it hardens steadily under your touch. “I think you’ll find I can be very persuasive,” you murmur, softly licking over the tip before sealing your lips around it and suckling gently while you gaze up at him, batting your lashes enticingly. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, long fingers threading into your hair as his head tips back. You grin around him, bobbing your head while you stroke over the rest of his length with a hand, laving your tongue over the head. 

Not forgetting about Harwin, you shift your gaze to him as your other hand palms his length where it presses against the rough fabric of his trousers, already hard and wanting. That seems to be the final straw for him and he scrambles to undo the ties, brown eyes glued to where your lips are wrapped around the prince’s hard cock. 

Your eyes widen when his length finally springs free and you let Daemon slip from your lips as your mouth falls open. “Seven Hells,” you murmur, watching as Harwin strokes a hand over his cock, a proud smirk on his lips. 

“Well now, that must be where your damn stubborn attitude comes from, Strong,” the prince teases, chest heaving as you continue stroking a hand over his length. 

Unable to resist, you brush the knight’s hand away before grasping his cock in your own, heart skipping a beat as your fingers hardly touch around the girth of it. You lean over and lick up the length of him, from the base to the very tip, before taking him into your mouth, bobbing your head in the same way you did with Daemon. 

It takes a few moments, but eventually you settle into a good rhythm – stroking one man’s member with your hand while you suck and lick at the others, swapping every few moments or when one of them gets impatient enough to tug you over by the hair. 

It’s easy to lose yourself in the cacophonous sounds of grunts and growls above you, at the way each man’s fingers thread into your hair differently. Daemon’s grip is much rougher, more commanding, as he drags you exactly where he wants, pushing and pulling your head along his cock in an exacting rhythm. 

Harwin, on the other hand, is more gentle — his tugs seeming more like suggestions than commands. Unlike the prince, he strokes over your hair gently as you attend to him, letting you set your own pace. Anytime your eyes meet his, he looks at you with awe almost, hairy chest heaving as his hips twitch, holding himself back from fucking your face in the way he wants. 

Daemon has no such qualms, hasn’t the patience to resist tugging at your hair as he presses your mouth lower and lower down his cock, relishing the way you choke and sputter. His violet, half-lidded gaze sends shivers through you each time your eyes meet, the look in his eyes echoing the fierce dragon’s blood flowing in his veins. 

Surprisingly, it’s Harwin that breaks first, tossing back his head with a low groan after some minutes and pulling you off of his cock. 

“What—?” You scarcely get the word out before his lips are on yours once again, tongue licking into your mouth. 

“Need you,” he mumbles simply, glaring as Daemon snickers behind your back. “Please,” he breathes, voice softer this time. 

“You needn’t ask,” Daemon drawls, pressing himself against your side as his hands paw at your breasts, pinching and pulling at your nipples and chuckling at the way you whine, “She’s a whore.” 

You roll your eyes playfully at the remark and grab Harwin’s hand, leading him toward one of the bigger rooms of the brothel. “That may be true, but perhaps I like a man with some decorum, my prince,” you call over your shoulder, chuckling as Daemon follows hot on your heels. 

You lead the men to one of the fancier rooms, one laden with imported ornate rugs and silken lamps that give it a warm red glow, complete with a giant circular daybed with plenty of room for all three of you. After all, if the brothel is empty, why not take advantage of it?

Putting on your very best show, you push at Harwin’s hairy chest until he sits back on the edge of the bed before walking over to him with a sly smirk, hips swaying enticingly. A chuckle leaves your lips when his eyes widen as you climb on his lap, your thighs bracketing his. 

“Is this ok –” His lips are on yours before you can finish the question; the both of you move a bit more desperately now, though his touches are no less attentive as his hands skim over your waist and up your back. 

Suddenly, you’re tugged away from Harwin’s lips with a little gasp as one of Daemon’s hands laces through the hair at the crown of your head, drawing you back until your spine is arched. 

“Forgetting someone?” He teases, lightly wrapping his other hand around your neck in a way that sends pleasant tingles down to your already aching center. You shake your head no, teeth biting into your bottom lip as Harwin’s cock twitches between your legs.

“Never, my prince,” you murmur, smiling into the kiss as Daemon presses his lips against yours. His movements are more urgent than Harwin’s and it soon dissolves into a battle of teeth and tongues; you mewl into his mouth when the hand around your neck slides down your chest and palms eagerly at one of your breasts. 

Though they’re closed, your eyes roll back as Harwin leans forward and begins mouthing at the side of your neck, his wavy hair tickling your shoulder. Soon enough, both men are pawing greedily at your chest, making your head spin – both of their touches are so different: where Daemon is rough, pinching at your nipple until you gasp and whine into his kiss, Harwin is gentle and uses his thumb to tease at the other until he feels you shivering on his lap. 

The knight surprises you once more when his touch skirts down over your stomach before his fingers run through your folds, making you jerk from Daemon’s grasp with a moan. Your cheeks flush slightly at the sight of the little victorious grin on Harwin’s face as he expertly circles your pearl, watching closely at the way his touch makes you squirm and grind down against his hard length. 

“That’s it,” he husks, grunting as your grasp tightens on his shoulders, nails digging into his lightly tanned skin, “Need to warm you up, don’t I?”

Beside you, Daemon scoffs as he stands straight once more, fingers still threaded through your hair. “Please,” he huffs, sliding closer to where you sit on the knight’s lap, until his length is practically brushing against your cheek, “Whores don’t need warming, Strong. You may as well take her.”

Before you have time to so much as register the jab, Harwin slips a thick finger inside you in the same instance that Daemon manhandles his cock into your waiting mouth, muffling your whimpers. Both men growl as they take you, the knight’s finger fucking easily into your wet channel as the prince’s length slides against your tongue once more. 

You can hardly do more than ragdoll in their grasp, mewling while Harwin fingers you open, adding a second digit after a moment and crooking them in a way that makes your hips rut eagerly into his touch while Daemon takes from you as he pleases, fucking into your throat with loud growls and grunts. 

Below you, Harwin groans as he easily presses a third finger into your heat, watching you carefully as he does and smirking when you show no signs of discomfort. “Think you’re ready for me,” he murmurs, chuckling when you nod your head as best as you can. As desperate as you are to be filled properly, you can’t help but let out a little petulant whine as he pulls his fingers from you. 

“Patience,” he grunts, shifting you on his lap enough to reach between your bodies and fist his length, grinning at the way you squirm eagerly as he runs the head through your slick folds. His chest reverberates under your palms when he growls as he finally grabs at your hips and pulls you down steadily over his thick cock, half-lidded eyes staring down at where you both connect, “Fuck, there you go.”

You pull away from Daemon with a loud gasp, sucking in a lungful of air, chest heaving as your walls pulse around the knight, savoring the way his stretches you open. “Gods!” You cry, wriggling in his hold as you grind against him, your hips moving of their own accord. 

Daemon huffs, annoyed, and tries dragging you back onto his cock a few times to no avail, quickly becoming irritated at the way you mindlessly clench your jaw closed each time Harwin’s cock presses against the sensitive spot within you. 

“Poor little whore,” the prince sighs exasperatedly, once again tugging your head back until your eyes meet his, “Too distracted, hm?”

You open your lips to reply, only to gasp dazedly as Harwin thrusts up into you from below, muscular thighs flexing under your own. “Give her a moment,” he grunts, gripping your hips to guide you over his length.

The prince merely tsks, pulling at your hair again until your eyes pop open; a shiver goes through you at the smirk that graces his lips, as if he knows something you don’t. “Tell me,” he starts, carding his long fingers through your hair, “Have you ever taken two cocks at once?”

“N – fuck!” You gasp, eyes rolling back briefly as Harwin ruts up into you quickly, evidently excited by the idea, “N-No.” 

“Hmm,” Daemon hums, smirk only widening, “Then I know just the way to get your attention.”

He moves away from you quickly, letting your head flop back uselessly as he walks swiftly to a small cabinet in the corner of the room where the Madam keeps a small stock of massage oils and lotions. You straighten just in time to watch as he stalks back over to you and Harwin, a vial of oil in hand. “I trust you have at least some experience with this, yes?” He questions, letting out a pleased hum when you nod. 

The two men share a look between them and you mewl as Harwin lays back against the day bed, pulling you with him until you’re lying against his chest, making you gasp as the change in angle presses his length squarely against the most sensitive spot within you. 

“Hold her steady,” Daemon murmurs behind you, uncorking the little bottle of oil.

The knight grunts when you tighten around him and one of his hands abandons its hold on your hip to cup one of your cheeks, his touch surprisingly delicate for a man of his stature. “Excited?” He questions, brown eyes studying your face carefully. 

Any reply dies on your lips in lieu of an eager gasp when you feel the prince’s presence behind you, his hips nearly touching your rear as he slots himself between Harwin’s legs. Still, you nod your head earnestly, sending pearlescent hair cascading over your shoulders to pool on the knight’s chest.

Harwin’s chest rumbles with a satisfied hum, though you’re left gasping at the feel of one of Daemon’s hands deftly parting your arse cheeks, swiftly followed by massage oil being drizzled between them, filling the room with the scent of lavender. When you jolt slightly at the feel of a finger skirting over your entrance, the prince is quick to reprimand you with a sharp slap to the rear, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. 

“You’re going to be good for us?” Harwin questions, drawing your attention back to him as he smooths a thumb over your cheekbone. 

“Y-Yes, yes,” you nod listlessly, breaths staggered as Daemon fingers you open, expertly preparing you. Again, you earn a pleased hum from the man below you. 

The next few moments pass in a blur – your head spins as the prince readies you and Harwin placates you all the while with gentle caresses and kisses, even snaking a hand between your bodies to rub at your aching pearl.

Finally, Daemon seems satisfied and pulls his fingers from you before slotting himself against you, quickly slicking up his cock with more of the oil before pressing the head against your opening, grinning smugly when you press back against him. 

“Fuck, there we go,” he rasps, carefully sliding his length into you until his hips meet your backside. 

A high, whining keen is pulled from your lungs at the stretch, tingles shooting up your spine and making you shudder at the feel of being this filled. You can do little more but gasp, pinned between two muscular bodies, as the men start to move. The feel of it is like none other, a constant push and pull as they thrust in and out of you in tandem. 

“G-Gods, fuck!” You finally cry, managing to suck in a lungful of air as your nails dig into Harwin’s chest. 

The knight beneath you isn’t faring much better than you are, a near constant stream of deep grunts and groans leaving his lips as he feels you tighten on his cock. “By the Seven, you feel divine,” he mumbles, making you cry out as he pulls you to him, strong hands encircling your waist as he mouths at your shoulder, biting at your skin.

Above you, Daemon’s violet eyes remain fixed on your ass, savoring the way it bounces each time his hips smack against it, watching as his length spears into you again and again. “What a good little whore,” he grunts, words short and clipped as he clenches his jaw. A stuttered moan is pulled from you as he grabs at your backside, fingers do doubt leaving bruises in their wake as he gropes you, “Taking us so well.”

Your muscles tense at the praise as your high threatens to overwhelm you, looming in a small pit in your belly that’s growing bigger and bigger with each passing second. Your walls tighten around Harwin again, making him hiss beneath you. 

“Gonna, Gods, I –” you cry, eyes squeezing shut as the knight bullies the sensitive spot within you, pounding against it with each rough thrust, making your words die on your tongue. 

Thankfully, Harwin understands perfectly, balancing on that thin precipice himself – the cacophonous litany of your moans and whines along with the lewd, wet sounds of their cocks plunging into you again and again only serving to push him further to his own end. 

“That’s it,” the knight rasps, grabbing your chin with one hand and directing your attention toward him once more, “Go on, peak, let me feel it.”

His command, along with another hard smack to your rear from Daemon, send you hurtling over the edge with a sharp, loud cry. You lose all sense between them, muscles clenching and relaxing rhythmically as your whole body seems to erupt into flame. 

The gorgeous look on your face, along with the steady pulse of your walls around him, finish Harwin as well. A deep groan, complementary to your own high-pitched whines, is all but punched from his chest as his length twitches within you, painting your walls with his spend. 

As your peak slowly settles, like waves receding at low tide, you’re left gasping, clinging to Harwin as Daemon still thrusts wildly into you, chasing his own high. Desperate to feel you clench around him once more, the prince reaches around, over your hip, and his greedy fingers quickly find your bud. 

“Oh!” You gasp, squirming in the knight’s grasp as the prince’s fingers roughly rub against your pearl, forcibly dragging you right back to the edge you’d just fallen from. 

“Come on,” Daemon grunts, tugging you up by the shoulder until your back presses against his chest, deep, vicious grunts filling your ear, “One more, little whore, fucking do it for me.”

You scramble in his hold, lips parting in a silent cry as your muscles jerk in sharp, uncoordinated movements. Unable to extract yourself from his hold, the overstimulation finally gives way to blinding pleasure once more and you peak with a loud, piercing yelp. 

Daemon grunts behind you, pleased, as your walls all but force a high from him as well. He thrusts into you a few more times, groaning at the feel of your slick coating his fingers and pooling between your bodies. Finally, he lets go, grumbling low words in a language you don’t understand as he fills you. 

The only sounds in the near empty brothel is the sound of staggered pants as the three of you catch your breaths, content to do little more than lie in a heap for a few moments. 

It’s Daemon that moves first, pulling himself from you with a muted grunt before swaggering over to a small vanity, pulling up and tying his trousers as he goes. 

Harwin soothes you with gentle touches as he pulls away, keenly aware of the way you wince at certain movements, overly sensitive now. “Are you okay?” He asks, voice gentler now as he surveys your body, “Nothing hurts?”

You can’t help but chuckle at his concern, so unused to men caring for you once they finish. “I’m fine, I assure you,” your lips quirk into a smile as you soothe his worries, a little sigh leaving your lips as you settle back against the silken sheets that cover the daybed. 

“Here,” Daemon grunts with indifference as he tosses a clean cloth at you, more than familiar with the layout of the place, “To clean yourself.”

You huff softly and roll your eyes playfully before grabbing the small towel and standing to wipe spend and extra oil from your skin, making a mental note to heat water for a proper bath as soon as the men leave. 

It’s then that it occurs to you that they may not let you stay, what if even this wasn’t enough to secure your freedom, to get them to overlook your transgressions? 

“So,” you start, discarding the cloth in a laundry basket by the vanity before turning and facing the men, surprised to find Harwin’s eyes already on you, “Forgive and forget, yes? The debt has been paid, etcetera?”

They share a look as they dress themselves, Daemon loosely pulling on his armor, opting to tuck most of it beneath an arm, though Harwin takes the time to fasten his properly. 

“Oh, I think you’ve more than convinced us to spare you, little minx,” the prince drawls, eyes roving over your still nude form as he approaches you and takes your chin between two long fingers, “As for your debt, well…”

You grin as he trails off, two pairs of purple eyes sliding over to Harwin. 

“There’s still the interest to consider,” he murmurs with a little chuckle, dark eyes sparkling with mirth.

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x reader #harwin strong #harwin strong smut #harwin strong x reader #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon smut #house of the dragon x reader #hotd #hotd fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #hotd x reader #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #smut #my writing

[wh1sp3rr]

an: i’m tired and depressed and am in need of a big, irish-mexican man to put me to sleep

-ˋˏ ༻✿༺ ˎˊ-

miguel brushes your hair, however curly or straight it is, as you snuggle up into him, nose kissing his neck, breath fanning him comfortably, legs adding the perfect amount of weight and pressure to his hips as he click clackity clicks away, smooching your benign features lovingly. when someone barges in and you perk your head up suddenly as to not be caught in this vulnerable position, he shushes to you so sweetly, caresses your hair once more, smoothing it down, and whispers:

“it’s okay, baby. relax. go back to sleep, okay?”

he glared at whoever the disturber of his precious was and discusses anomalies galore all the while gently shifting his chair side-to-side to rock you, his love to sleep.

#whispers fairytales ౨ৎ #wh1sp3rr #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara fluff #atsv x reader #atsv fluff #spiderman 2099 imagine #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 x you #spiderman 2099 fluff #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fic #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel ohara fic #spiderman 2099 fanfiction #spiderman 2099 fic

[tojisun]

into my flesh

toji x fem reader

!! smut fic - minors dni; hinted age gap; mentioned jealousy; praise and degradation kink; petnames; squirting; brief cervix sex; breeding kink; passing out post-sex; mentioned aftercare; toji’s big dick galore // 2.4k words

: have my horny thoughts strung to form a somewhat coherent fic; i hope u guys would like it <33; title of the fic is from flesh - simon curtis

there is something in the way you make toji jealous that unleashes the ever-pooling desire he has for you.

wearing that red silk dress that he bought for you on your birthday, pulling him in with the curl of your lips, but never allowing him to venture close. you sidestep away from his touch whenever he tries to hook his arm around your waist, your lips pursed like toji isn’t worth your minute.

toji's glower grows and his frown deepens but he gets it.

he knows this game. he knows that you're just trying to set his veins ablaze because oh how you love it when his lips are pulled back in a snarl and his hips are punching in their thrust and his hands find their purchase around your neck. oh how you love his growled words pressed on the rise of your breasts, promises of filth rippling along your damp skin, before full lips circle around your hardened nipple. oh how you love it when toji is ruthless with his love — animalistic and jagged and overarching.

toji knows how this game goes so he slinks back into the shadows and watches you. he watches the way you hover around this boy — because what else could he be if not a boy whose lips twitch in their attempt to keep your attention, his fingers fiddling with the loose dress shirt hanging off of him, all because he could not handle your magnificence — and titter at his jokes, your eyelashes batting purposefully delicate, enticing him in a way that no other could. your hair frames your face devilishly: the cut of your jaw is sharp, your cheekbones are defined, and your eyes are half-lidded.

toji is feet away from you but even his throat goes parched. he can’t blame the kid for swooning even if toji wants nothing more but to pull you away from those coveting eyes.

——————————————————

toji’s smile is cruel as he taps the head of his cock on your twitching cunt. you whimper a choked moan, your eyes fluttering shut as the tears continue to spill. your lashes are sticking together and you are sure your “waterproof” eyeliner is all but retained, but fuck.

fuck.

your chest heaves as you gaze back into toji’s eyes, sharp hues of green looking at you with such reverence like you’re so precious even when utterly debauched. like toji loves you like this: heady and desperate and mewling. and he does. you know he does. but there is something so good at the reminder of how your presence pushes toji past his built walls, ushering his scarred palms to feel you.

he is so beautiful like this: impatient and hungry for you.

(toji has always been beautiful but in way that was not apparent in your exes — satoru with his twinkling eyes that crinkle every time he laughs; kento with his quiet drawl as he whispers your name; mei with her sloping curves and her pianist fingers ghosting their touch along your spine. no. toji is not delicate like them; even in his softness, toji has always been different and stark against your history of picnic dates and lavender kisses.

because toji, with his maps of scars and speckles of grey hair peppering the sea of black and crooked grin and aged hands and deep baritone, was not fortunate enough to afford to grow in his gentleness. he had to learn it himself — crafting fragility from his weaponry of agony and anger, all for you. all because of you. because he saw you and realized he loved you and promised, then, that he would bear kindness from his ruined hands.)

“hey,” toji’s voice is gruff as he calls out to you, pulling you from your swimming thoughts. “y’still there, baby?”

you blink back at him, glossed eyes focusing on his face.

oh how cruel of you to think about other people when toji, the man whom you love with all that you are, has you pinned down on his bed, mounting you with his bigger body. fuck, the reminder of how easy it was for toji to press your legs parallel to your chest has you breathing heavily, your pussy clenching at nothing. a quiet huff escapes your kiss-swollen lips, your eyes almost going crossed when toji slides his cock along your soaked folds again.

“yes,” you finally hum. “please, fuck me.” your empty hands slide down his chest, running your fingertips past his nipples and down to where he has a fist around his heavy and thick and full cock. your tongue juts out to swipe at your lips, feeling utterly hungry all of a sudden.

“impatient,” toji tuts. “after almost dozing on me an’ everything.”

your cheeks burn, your lips pouting. you murmur unintelligibly, not really refuting his words but not admitting to them either.

“shh,” toji whispers at seeing you flustered. he cups your cheeks, sliding his thumb just below your eyes. “was just joking, sweetheart.”

your lips part open for a response, one that dashes from the tip of your tongue at the feeling of toji’s cock slowly pushing in your pussy. you keen, your back arching off the bed.

god, you feel so full. and even then, with your quiet whimpers and curling toes, toji’s still not all the way in. your eyes flutter at every steady slide, panting at the feeling of being so stretched out. you don’t even hear yourself keening, so focused in the way toji’s cock breaches your walls like this is the first time all over again.

toji’s so gentle even when you can hear his heaving breaths, his fingers — the free hand that he has that’s holding onto your hip — dimpling your skin where the thin line of sweat builds up because of the heat simmering from toji’s palm. you peer up at him through clumped lashes, gasping quietly at the look you see on his face.

toji’s brows curl the way you know he’s barely suppressing himself from punching in his thrusts. his lips — scarred and plump and beautiful — are pulled in a snarl, and you shiver at the intensity of his eyes when he pulls them up from where you two are connected to meet your own.

he growls, the sound so animalistic it reverberates within the space between you two, sending goosebumps rising across the expanse of your skin.

“shit, baby,” toji groans, full-stopping and bracing himself with his hands on either side of your head. a sort of giddy and disbelief fills the bubble in your stomach — toji isn’t even fully in yet. “you’re so good, might just cum like this.”

he shallowly pulls out, you moan, your tears building up again, before he’s thrusting back in and breaching further in you. “just gon’ feel your cunt warm my cock like this, have you looking like the doll you are, an’ i’ll be gone.”

he sweeps your damp hair away from your face.

“you heard what i said, baby?” toji asks like you weren’t hanging onto his every word like they are gospel, pulling his cock back out, the slide is torturously slow, and only stopping when all that’s left in you is the head of his weeping cock. “you could milk me dry with just a bat of your eyes.”

you giggle, punching his chest playfully. “shut up and fuck me already!” you whine. toji winks at you in response and you roll your eyes with a fond smile, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

“mm, whatever my princess wants.” then toji thrusts all the way in.

you wail, feeling his cock hit something nestled deep in you, but you couldn’t even think for a second and figure out what it was because toji’s pulling out, not letting you get used to the full stretch of his cock, and fucking into you just as fast, his pelvis grinding against yours.

toji doesn’t stop, his hips unrelenting as they piston fast and hard and deep. you squeal, your fingers digging into the duvet, fisting them tightly as dizzying pleasure overwhelms you. toji’s head bows, the muscles of his back rippling as he does so, and bites on the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

“toji!” you cry, voice almost breaking into a sob, at the sharp pain on your neck mingling with the overdrive of pleasure erupting across your veins.

toji hums, his voice muffled in your skin. when he pulls back, he folds himself before you, pressing his weight on the back of your thighs.

“god, baby,” toji groans. “so wet around me.” he humps his hips forward as he says this, as though urging you to feel the sloppy mess running down the sides of your thighs. you choke, your eyes rolling back. toji does it again, his face finding its spot on the crook of your neck as he fucks you, his hips rolling every time he’s pressed close, and you hiccup at every new angle he hits.

there’s a weight inside you every time toji fucks in. it feels foreign but not unwanted; overwhelming and sensitive. when toji bucks in, you realize what it is that he’s hitting.

you squeal, crying as you scream, almost like the knowledge alone of toji pressing his cock in your deepest part brought about a new feeling of pleasure.

toji laughs, his voice ripping through your echoes of shaky sobs. “you feel it, baby?” he lifts his face to meet your eyes. “oh, yeah you do.” his voice crinkles like he is amused.

“deep!” you cry, trembling, your mind unable to string any more coherent sentences.

toji hums. “feel me kissing your cervix? if i press in like this,” he pauses to press his pelvis flushed close to yours, his eyes furrowing and his grin growing sharp when he feels you squeeze around him, your tight walls spasming around the thick curve of his cock. you let out a long hiss, your eyes fluttering at the feeling of being utterly stuffed.

“see, sweetheart?” toji continues, his voice low and guttural. “your womb is practically opening up for my cock.” you hiccup at his words, your cheeks warming up at the slur of his voice. the imagery makes your moans wobble, and toji laughs when he feels your pussy twitch around him again.

“oh darling,” he croons. “you love it when i talk to you about your hungry cunt? wanna hear the way it’s clinging so greedily around my cock? oh, yeah you do. you love being reminded how desperate of a slut you turn to.”

you sob, your voice breaking into breathy ah-ah-ahs. toji shakes his head, fully endeared even when you are splayed out before him — your skin glistening with sweat; your hair sticking to your forehead; your pussy stretched and wet and dripping as it clings around toji’s thick cock.

toji hums, delighted, before straightening back again. his cock slides out, its head leaving the depths of your walls — your cervix, you are reminded when toji rocks back in again as if testing how deep he’s claimed you — and you watch, even with muddled mind and blurry eyes, as toji holds onto the meat of your thighs.

it all happens so quickly. you saw toji’s mirage, a god-incarnate before you, and the next thing you know, he’s fucking you hard and fast, his mind focused on nothing but making you cum. you can hear yourself screaming, your throat burning alongside the pleasure erupting from your pussy. your blunt fingernails are digging into toji’s shoulders, and it is all you can do to reel yourself in from the numbing pleasure as toji pistons his hips, his pace picking up, going faster, faster, faster–!

“shit, baby!” he crows as the first spray of your squirt hits his pelvis. “yes!” toji hisses. “c’mon, sweetheart, keep squirtin’ on me.”

your eyes roll back and your ears are ringing, but you do just as he said: you squirt with every push of his cock, the rivulets between your thighs dripping to stain the sheets.

it takes toji four unrelenting thrusts before his hard pistoning peters into pathetic humps, his own orgasm building rapidly. “‘m gon’ breed this pussy,” toji murmurs, so pussy-drunk that his words turn into accented slurs. “‘m gon’ fill you up. you want that, baby? wanna be filled up?”

“yes, please!” you scream, nodding, your hand reaching down to rub at your hardened clit. “fill me, toji! fill me, please!”

“of course, sweet thing,” toji growls, pushing his cock all the way in, before you feel the sprays of hot cum shooting into your sensitive walls.

a choked moan escapes your throat before you are cumming agin, your soaked cunt squeezing toji’s one last time — “fuck, darling,” he moans, his voice curling into a hiss — then your eyes finally shut close.

——————————————————

you wake up to your head tucked into the crook of toji’s neck, your silk pajamas crinkling as you move about the bed. throbbing pain echoes mutely from your spine, and your exhausted mind reels back at the onslaught of memories.

oh. oh fuck.

you can’t believe you passed out. while toji’s balls deep in you, too.

you choke, embarrassment rushing across your veins.

a muffled squawk is ripped from your throat, tentatively distracting you from your thoughts, when toji’s arms tug you further into his embrace like you’re not already pressed flush to him. you study his face, watching as his brows begin to crinkle like he’s about to wake up.

before you can effectively escape from the rousing toji, his voice rumbles from where his lips are pressed on the crown of your head.

“g’mornin’,” he whispers.

you cringe, realizing that you have to face the embarrassment of passing out on toji while he’s literally breeding you. you cough, awkwardly, and greet, “good morning,” your voice quiet and broken. oh wow.

toji whistles, pulling back just enough to eye you. “you sound ruined,” he states.

you smack his exposed — hickey and bite mark-littered — chest. “whose fault is it?” you hiss at him.

toji grins. “mine.” he says it so cheekily and with so much pride, his scarred lips stretching to show off sharp canines.

you smack him again, futilely ignoring the explosion of warmth in your cheeks and the growing embarrassment curling at your stomach.

“ow! baby, ow!” toji cries, rolling away to avoid your soft punches. you follow him with difficulty, your body still aching, but you are determined to smack toji until your shame abates.

you fail, anyways, when toji drapes himself across you like an overgrown and clingy cat, trapping you between him and the soft bed.

ugh, why’s he literally so cute.

#suns.f #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x fem reader #toji smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #toji fushiguro #jjk #suns

[diremoone]

christmas overload | g. satoru

prompt 3 — “It’s our baby’s first Christmas. I don’t think they’re going to remember you buying them all of these stuffies.”

requested by anon: pleaseee bless us with gojo and christmas prompt 3 pleaseeeee

[ Christmas Prompt List ]

[ Christmas Event Masterlist ]

“I know you have money out the ass, Satoru, but was this really necessary?”

“Absolutely.”

The man looks 100% confident, not an ounce of shame written across his face. In fact, he looks like he’s never been more happy with himself, ego ballooned farther than even you thought was possible.

Underneath the multicolored lights of the ten foot Christmas tree are stuffies galore. You note that there are several dozen more presents under the tree than there were before you’d taken a nap, but those seemed to be nothing compared to all of the stuffed animals and plushies surrounding the tree and taking up so much space in the living room.

Your 6’3 husband stands proudly before said tree, hands on his hips dramatically with a fat smile on his face.

“You think Satsuki will like it?” Satoru asks.

“I think she’s going to go crazy over it,” you answer. And Satoru’s grin gets impossibly bigger, simple on full display. But then you add something else to the sentence, making his happy smile plummet. “But she’s only eight months, Satoru. I don’t think she’s going to remember you buying all of these stuffies and presents.”

Satoru’s shoulders slump. He knows that you’re right; she’s too little, too tiny to remember her overexcited Daddy spoiling her on her very first Christmas.

Guilt courses through you at the sound of a sad sniffle coming from him. Satoru’s large body sits next to yours on the couch, leaned over to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I just wanted her first Christmas to be special,” he mutters.

“And it is, baby,” you say. You rub his back in comfort. “She’ll know her daddy tried to spoil her on her first Christmas, she just… won’t remember. Not this year.”

His cheeks puff out as he huffs. He looks at you with shiny eyes, laced with what you know to be disappointment, and asks, “Are you sure she won’t remember?”

“Unless she’s got some unreal ability to remember this right now that we don’t know about, I’d say so,” you reply. “But it’s not like there won’t be pictures for her to remember later in life.”

“That’s true, but I want her to remember them now!” he whines childishly.

“Sorry to disappoint, babe.” You ruffle his hair. “That’s just the way it is. Give it a few years and then you’ll get what you want.”

Satoru sighs and leans back against the back of the couch. He covers his eyes with his arm dramatically. “I guess.”

And then the doorbell suddenly rings, making you jump. You weren’t expecting anyone today, so who in the world was at the front door?

Cries fill the air. No doubt the doorbell woke up your eight-month-old daughter.

Satoru stands. “You get Satsuki, I’ll get the door.”

You head toward the nursery, opening the ajar door to find your precious girl awake and upset with tears and snot running down her face. Her wails turn to soft cries as her pretty blue eyes that match her daddy’s meet your own. You slide your hands under her back and head and lift her to your chest. Her soft cries turn to soft sniffles as she snuggles her head into the crook of your neck.

“It’s okay, ‘Suki. I know the doorbell scared you,” you soothe her, rubbing her back up and down gently. “Sorry, sorry. Come on, let’s go see your papa. He’ll protect you, won’t he?”

Satsuki sniffles and nods, snuggling impossibly closer into your hold like she’s agreeing with you.

You head back into the living room, only for your mouth to drop to the floor.

Beside the Christmas tree, on either side, was a massive plush Baymax and a gigantic teddy bear just as big. Resting against the front door is a stuffed reindeer that’s almost as big, its big fat red nose showing that its Rudolph.

Satoru looks at you sheepishly, scratching at the back of his head.

“Too much?”

You nod, mouth still ajar. “Too much.”

But your baby girl doesn’t think so. She immediately starts clapping and reaching for the giant teddy bear that’s closest to her out of the three.

Satoru’s sheepish grin turns into one of absolute enthusiasm and love at the sight of his baby reaching for one of the presents he’s gotten her. He practically skips over to you and scoops up the white-haired princess.

“Did Daddy do a good job? You like the presents Daddy got you, my little Princess Mochi?”

The gleeful energy from the two combined is absolutely infectious. You laugh as Satoru spins his eight-month-old daughter through the air, bubbly shrieks of delight escaping her lips.

Yeah, you’d tell Satoru she had some sort of ability to remember her first Christmas, just to keep the smile on his face.

taglist:

@vagabond-umlaut @heresan @4sat0ruu @nayrring @missmuffinr @itzmeme @torusmochi

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo fanfic #jjk fluff #Christmas Event 2023 🍪

[bucknastysbabe]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: King Aegon II x Queen!Reader x Aemond

Tags: Threesome, King!Aegon, issues galore, pillow princess big BABY Aegon, Aemond hanging dong, poorly concealed jealousy of being a second son, face sitting, f/m/m, anal sex, humiliation kink, feminization, Aegon’s like pre-chubby, spanking, switch Aeg, wee bit of Angst at the end

Aegon writhed atop silken sheets, amongst other fineries imported to the Keep from Lys to Qaarth. His pretty face was flushed, crown askew, big violet eyes glassy. Drunken to an extent, not enough to deny a good thorough fucking. You teasingly snatched the crown, placing it upon Aemond’s silky strands. He eyed you quizzically, Aegon slurring underneath, “Realll fuh’kin funny.”

Aemond slapped one of Aegon’s soft thighs, big hand leaving a pretty blooming mark. He sneered, “Even your lady wife thinks I look better in it.” The spare’s cock bobbed as he shifted between feminine thighs, blessed was he by the Father for that monstrosity of a cock. The ‘king’ whined petulantly, casting his orbs towards you, long lashes clumped and wet.

“He does make an imposing figure with the crown my love,” you shrugged.

Aegon’s plump lips pulled back into a snarl, hand coming up to slap Aemond— alas, too drunken and slow was he. You raised a brow, growing more excited, squeezing your thighs together to dull the ache. The younger brother laughed meanly, pinning Aegon’s weaker arms above his head, long fingers wrapping skinny wrists up tight.

Aem bitterly sniffed, “Been easier if you were a girl, although your arse is tight as a cunt and you’ve been,” he smirked toward you, “filling out nicely.” Aegon whimpered at that, shame making the softling struggle as his brother lapped at a puffy nipple. Violet eyes begged for you, frantic uttering slipping through wine-stained lips, “Wha-ah-at is he talking about? Gods!”

Aegon’s back arched when the lanky man between his legs rubbed their cocks together in a hot drag. You crawled closer, carding gentle hands through your husband’s tousled hair. Pecking his panting pout you murmured with a squeeze to his soft hip, “Filling out like a proper lady he means, might need to borrow my corset dear, don’t want to appear slovenly.”

Fresh pretty tears leaked from his orbs, Aemond grabbing a handful of the pudge on his still small waist. He nipped at his brother’s neck, murmuring in a low rasp, “Glutton. Better curb it before you break a belt.” Aegon cried out sharply, spreading his legs, arching his back like the little whore he was.

“There’s my sweet slut,” you cooed, passing Aemond the phial of oil. He thanked you before asking, “You want to open him up or me?” Reclining backward to lay next to your husband you purred, “No, no, go ahead, want to see him cry some more before I have my fun.” Aemond dutifully nodded, slapping the back of Aegon’s thighs to get them higher up.

Aegon stared at you, lips trembling, head fuzzy with drink and arousal. Petting his hair again you pressed a saccharine kiss to his sweaty forehead, stroking back errant curls. The slick sounds of Aemond slathering oil on Aegon’s hole had the king gasp and mewl your name.

“Oh hush, you’re such a whiny babe, when has brother dearest not taken care of you? Spoilt thing.”

He moaned softly, lashes fluttering as Aemond’s long fingers circled his hole. You stroked Aegon's sensitive neck and chest, pulling at a rosy nipple to distract from any discomfort. It had been a while since anyone had time for simple pleasures such as these, especially for the younger brother.

Aegon’s back arching again notified you that Aemond had breached him. You raised a brow at the other, eyes glancing at his use of two fingers off the get. He dismissed the concern with a scoff, “Seems fine to me.” He wasn’t wrong, your husband’s pretty cock was leaking over his milky white stomach.

Aemond lazily stretched out his elder until Aegon was begging, “Aem, Aem, come onnnn, pleaseeee!” His curls were matted down with sweat, sweet thighs trembling with need. You kissed his blubbering lips, casting a glare on the crowned blonde. The game’s up, goodbrother.

Aemond huffed in amusement, pulling his fingers out to wipe on the rumpled bed. He hissed in pleasure slathering up that purpling swollen cock. Aegon whined his brother’s name again, clumsily fumbling to shove a pillow under his ass, spreading wider.

“Seven hells sweetheart,” you swore, cunt clenching again. Your own skin was hot and beginning to bead with sweat— the heat of the room and delicious spread before you was stifling.

Aemond grunted a bit as he got into a good position, planting his knees and guiding his cock towards Aeg’s greedy hole. You coddled your husband as his violet eyes bulged and rolled, the blunt tip of his little brother’s cock forcing its way in.

Aemond’s hair flopped forward in a shiny curtain, hunching a bit as he eased himself with little hitches of breath, moaning softly when his trim hips met the fatty flesh of Aegon’s backside and upper thighs. Aemond’s head fell back some, a sharp grin twisting his features. He breathed, “Ah brother, somehow you stay like a glove. Tight cunt for a whore.”

You plastered yourself to your drooling husband, his chest heaving, slurring, “s’full.” You smiled and swiped a thumb across his wet lips, “Mhm, goodbrother does a good job filling your slutty ass up. Fucking all those little thoughts out of your head.”

“If there is any, goodsister.”

“Are you going to fuck him or be an ass?”

Aemond snorted and pulled back to thrust sharply into Aegon, punching a lurid cry out of his puffy lips. The younger didn’t waste any time, roughly fucking Aegon, biting his slim lips, one eye closed in pleasure. Your husband was a wreck per usual, his brother’s cock split the poor thing wide open— no escape from the drag across that sensitive little gland in his ass.

Aemond snarled, “Taking me well, doesn’t it just look splendid, what a real king looks like- ah- taking what’s his. A bratty sister-wife.”

Aegon blubbered a weak reply, seeking the comfort of your body, lips suckling at your lips and neck sloppily. You playfully flattened your hand over his bouncing cock, rubbing it gently.

“Ohh- oh fuck- mmm s’good s’good,” he babbled deliriously, blinking more tears down his ruby splotched cheeks. He was shaking, pitch too high, signs of an early orgasm. You couldn’t have that. You’d gotten enough of an eyeful, getting onto your haunches.

“Aegon, don’t you dare yet,” you chided, smacking his cock roughly. Aemond laughed as your husband howled and squirmed in pain. He had to be held tight by Aem’s hands. Grabbing Aegon’s full cheeks you asked, sweeter now, “Think you can eat my cunt? Got enough brains in your slutty head for that?”

He nodded with a soft noise, hands fisting the covers relocated to your hips. You straddled his gorgeous face, now eye to eye with Aemond’s smug look. Aegon grasped your plump thighs and began to lap eagerly, moaning in delight. You shuddered, placing hands on Aegon’s fleshy hips.

Aegon was good in the sack, regardless of these nights where the now-king got wrecked. He knew your cunt quite well. Currently, he took his time digging a fat tongue into your hole, slurping up essence. You fell forward a bit with a moan, eyes still plastered upon Aemond’s regal look.

Aem rumbled, “Hm, aren’t you a treat, my queen.” The tall blonde leaned forward to capture your waiting lips, lapping upwards and nipping a swollen top lip. Aegon chose the idea to whine into your pussy, delicious vibrations arching your back, pushing budded tits forward.

Aemond swallowed up your noise, passionately sharing himself and kin with you. One of his lengthy calloused hands cupped your tit, rough thumb swiping across nerves. Aegon thrust up to no avail when you squeezed around his face, body assaulted by your clit and sensitive nipples being played with. You mewled, “Gods, Aemond, Aegon, ah!”

Your husband was digging his fingers into your ample thighs, moaning and yelling, barely muffled at this point. You were helplessly shying away, the pleasure reaching a point of near-pain. At the same time, Aegon pulled you down and Aemond pushed you flush to his brother’s face.

Aemond growled, “Wanna see you come undone on the little whore’s face, keep that ass down.”

You nodded with a whine, hands trembling, reaching, pulling the younger further for more kisses as Aegon suckled roughly, sending a gush of slickness on his face. You wailed, Aemond humming, “Ah, there we go, darling queen. Back to our whore now?” The whore in question was fit to blow, his prick veined and throbbing, balls tight. He made a confused sound as you began to lift up.

In a dazed movement, you fell off Aegon’s wet mouth, gathering wits, eyes tiredly watching Aemond bend the true king in half, smacking a pert ass. He nuzzled at Aegon’s sweat lined throat, lapping and biting without shame. You rolled onto your belly blearily, hand snaking to the elder’s cock, thumbing the tip in rough circles.

Aegon shivered from head to toe, fully sobbing now. Aemond pressed the sniffling king, “Say it, say it dear, who wears the crown?” It was about three more punishing smacks before Aegon moaned loud and long, emptying all over your hand and his creased belly. He cried harder now, sniveling for his wife.

Aemond grunted, groaned softly under his breath, murmuring nonsense as he unloaded into his brother’s ass. The younger took off the crown and gently placed it aside, sitting back on his haunches, panting. Aegon had already enveloped your form like a blanket, sniffling into your tits.

You stroked his hair and smiled gently, cooing. Looking up at Aemond you asked, “Sticking around? I can braid your hair up if you’d like?”

He was already tying it halfway up, eye-patch secured quickly. Aemond shook his head and stated, “A kind gesture, I’ll be taking my leave.” You frowned a bit, absently petting Aeg’s curls. Aemond’s remaining eye glanced at the dozing Aegon, mouth twisting ever-so-slightly.

“I’ll be fine my queen, get some rest, see you in the morn.”

You knew him well enough to not say another word as the spare got dressed and exited, door closing quietly. Thumbing at Aegon’s cheeks, you hoped Aemond would stick around some time. Both of you loved him dearly.

#hotd fanfic #hotd smut #aegon ii x reader #queen!reader #aemond smut #aegon ii x reader x aemond #aemond targaryen x reader

[eggrollofchaos01]

Okay I wanna talk about something. I know we all talk about how Wylan seems to help Jesper like seem healthier and not as weighed down but what about how Jesper helped Wylan (also I am using the deleted scene pics which adds some glow but I see extra glow I swear)

Season 1 Jesper through most of the season seemed sleep deprived and like completely over taken with just the crows and the next big hit

Season 2 after meeting Wylan we see his eye bags are gone and he just seems healthier which could be from him using his powers more than he used to. And that like fear and constant throwing himself into his addictions is not gone but lessened and yes he’s glowing cause of the lighting but he also has that glow of like happiness

Now we get into Wylan which I don’t seem many people talking about. I actually have three for him

Beginning of season 2. Tie a mess, shirt a mess, definitely hasn’t eaten in a few days like Kaz mentioned and clearly has been barely surviving. He’s desperate for any sorta of pay that he’s willing to betray his morals because he has no other choice. And also not confident or clean, also sleep deprived and getting mugged for what little he has

Middle of season 2. He seems to be eating at least more regularly, he’s bathing more and looks more well rested. And what he’s wearing, it has a brighter color versus the dark shirts we’ve seen him wearing before and it’s definitely a little big on him (I say clothing thief Wylan), also he’s standing a bit more confidently

End of season 2. Confidence GALORE, look at the shine in his eyes and the proud head tilted up, he has become more confident in himself and his abilities. He’s for sure sleeping more, and just happier (he always seems a little solemn in the past scenes with no shine, the shine started with Jesper) honestly they both were attached at the hip after episode 6, so they’ve been just in each others company getting happier and happier, he also for sure has Jespers shirt on

In conclusion your honor, these boys have made each other healthier with just their presence and support and trust. It is so important that people see what a good healthy uplifting relationship in media in different forms. They’re criminals and killers yes but they also care for each other and deserve to be happy.

#wesper #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #shadow and bone s2

[teyamsgrl]

she said: spank me, that's the only way i learn ✧ lo'ak & tsireya

❗️MDNI ❗️

OKAY IM SO EXCITED FOR THIS!!!! the title is a lyric from russ' song 'nasty' which was recently trending all over tik tok and i fell in love with it 🫣 i felt like the lyric would fit good for the story so enjoy all you horny people hehe

°˖➴ warnings: fem metkayina reader, agedup!lo'ak, agedup!tsireya, obvi threesome, bi!tsireya, bi!reader, sub!tsireya, dom!lo'ak, switch!reader, daddy kink, spit kink, dirty talk galore, oral both ways, missionary/riding, tit play, scissoring - sevin: pretty

tsireya was a close friend of yours, having been around each other since you were children. you had always found her to be extremely attractive and you had a bit of a crush, but this was never something you would admit to her, especially now as she is mated with lo'ak. you couldn't help but feel a sting of jealousy when she came to you and told you about their relationship, but you ultimately decided that you should just be happy for your friend and get over your unrequited feelings.

it was dark, late enough in the evening that most of the metkayina people were asleep. you were sitting on the beach with tsireya, something you two did almost every night. you two would just sit and chat, sometimes take a swim or ride your ilus. tonight, tsireya was lying in the sand, complaining about a pain in her back. "just let me massage it for you! i'm sick of your whining" you laugh, watching her roll her eyes and flip over so she is lying on her stomach. "this better be good, or i'm gonna be mad at you" she giggles and rests her head on her arms. you kneel beside her body, starting at her shoulders and slowly moving down her back, pushing out knots and rubbing softly. you hit the sore part, a moan escaping her mouth. "there, that feels great". you gulp at the sound of her moan, pussy fluttering. you continue massaging the spot, eyes trailing further down her body to land on her ass. you haven't looked at it in a while out of respect for her relationship, but her light moans are clouding your morals right now. your hands travel further down, grazing over her ass and tracing her stripes. she hums, moving into your touch. your eyebrows furrow at her movements but you nonetheless continue, unable to resist temptation. "y/n.." she whispers, flipping over onto her back again. you look down at her, cheeks flushing slightly out of sudden worry. you probably shouldn't have done that.

she grabs your hand, "touch me", her eyes are big and desirous. "tsireya but- what about lo'ak?" you felt so hypocritical suddenly worrying about her mate after having dirty thoughts just seconds ago. "i don't care right now- i just need you" she whines and you nod, breathing shakily. you were about to do this. you lean down, kissing her lips passionately, hands trailing down her sculpted body. her hands tangle in your hair, biting on your bottom lip. you hum and pull away, untying her top and instantly diving down to suck her nipples. she arches into your mouth, her hands moving to hold your shoulders. "y/n... i love it" she moans as you pull off her one nipple with a pop, spit trail following you to her other nipple. she continues to moan, the sounds turning you on beyond belief. you pull off and kiss down her stomach, taking her loincloth in your teeth and yanking it down. her mouth is agape, watching your every move. you grab her arms and pin them above her head, "spread your legs, pretty girl" you order, drooling at the sight of her moist pussy. you lean down, tongue licking up her slit and landing on her clit, flicking over it a few times. she bucks her hips into your mouth, causing you to move off and tsk. "behave, tsireya. be good for me and stay still" she whimpers and nods, urging you to continue. you suck in her clit, humming around it and bringing your free hand to insert a finger inside. "fuck-" she arches and rolls her hips at the sudden insertion. you let go of her clit and chuckle, moving up to lean over her. "hmmm.. you don't listen well, do you baby? how can i get you to learn to behave?" you whisper in her ear, finger running through her slickness. her whines are cut off by a voice that causes you both to jump; "spank her, that's the only way she learns". holy shit, it's lo'ak.

you scramble off of her, handing her the top and loincloth she had on previously. "ah ah, no need to leave so fast" he approaches you two, your heart pounding so fast it feels as though it's about to jump out from your chest. as he gets closer, you notice the tent in his loincloth, indicating that he definitely enjoyed what he just witnessed. "you know what daddy wants, reya. why don't you show y/n here what to do?" she nods and looks at you, pulling off his loincloth and allowing his cock to spring free. what the fuck is happening? not that you're complaining but you did not come prepared for this. you lick your lips, looking up at the man now dominating you. "do you wanna suck it, y/n? hm?" his long finger traces your cheek, "yes...", "yes what? i'm sure you know that's not how you ask" he tilts his head cockily, awaiting your correction. "yes daddy" you say, earning a hum of approval from him. "good" he grabs yours and tsireya's head, "open". you both obey as he spits in her mouth, moving to you and spitting in yours. you whine before he orders you both further, "now suck". you move in and start to suck his tip, tsireya kissing and licking along his shaft. he moans, hands still fixed on the back of both of your heads and watching you two spoil his cock. you bob your head down further, tsireya watching and kissing along your neck as you work down him. "such a good girl, y/n. who knew you were so good at sucking cock" he groans and pushes your head down further, making you deepthroat him entirely. you choke a bit before he yanks you off. tsireya moves to lick at his tip, you mirroring her actions. your tongues cross over as you both lick, his head flung back. "such good whores.." he breathes and pulls you both away, wanting to save his cum.

"sevin, lie down" he addresses tsireya and she obeys, lying on her back once again in the sand. he pulls you up, smashing his lips onto yours. you moan and run your hands down his toned torso. he hums and pulls away, "go sit on her face, babygirl" he spanks your ass and shoos you over. you remove your loincloth on the way, hovering over tsireya's mouth. "please sit, i want to taste you" she whimpers beneath you, hands undoing your top so you are fully naked. you nod and sink down onto her mouth, top getting tossed to the side. her hands run up to hold your tits, tongue licking along your clit. you feel lo'ak behind you, lifting tsireya's legs onto his shoulders. "eager aren't we, girls?" he chuckles and pushes into her pussy without warning, evoking a moan into your pussy. "mhmmm.." you moan, hands trying to find a place to rest. before you find a spot, lo'ak grabs them and binds them behind your back with his own hand. you whine and start to hear skin slapping, looking over your shoulder to see lo'ak mercilessly pounding tsireya's pussy. "so wet for me, reya. that's my good girl" he growls and picks up pace, the squelching sound amusing him. tsireya is continuously moaning into your pussy, sending vibrations to all the right places. you hips begin rolling as she licks, moans and whimpers falling out of your mouth effortlessly. "is she doing good, babygirl? is she eating your pussy good?" lo'ak asks behind you, still rutting into tsireya. "yes daddy" you whine out, grinding faster. lo'ak pulls out of her pussy, you notice by the whimper that escapes her mouth at the loss. he taps your ass, "off". you move off of her face, lo'ak pulling her up and making out with her, purring at your taste. you squeeze your thighs together at the sight, you never thought you could get this horny.

"i think y/n deserves to be filled too, don't you think, sevin?" he whispers, hand coming to twist your nipple. you gasp and watch as she whispers back to him, "of course, daddy. i want to watch her ride you.." he smirks and lies down, gesturing you over. "you heard her, come sit on daddy's cock" he says as he strokes himself a few times. you straddle his hips, lining his cock up with your hole and sinking down. your mouth flies open, euphoria filling you at the feeling of his cock inside. "fuck- that good already?" he chuckles and grips your ass, aiding you in moving up and down his shaft. you begin bouncing, hands pressed on his stomach. he moans, eyeing you as your tits bounce. "suck her tits, sevin. don't they look so good?" you begin to bounce faster as tsireya moves over, licking at your nipple and sucking it into her mouth. "oh yeah- daddy your cock-" you whine as it begins grazing spots you weren't aware of. "tell me" he demands, groaning lowly. "it's so big" you squeal, pussy clenching on it. he chuckles and spanks tsireya's ass, a yelp leaving her mouth before he moves you off of his cock.

"i want you two to scissor and cum all over each other, prove to me that you're both whores" he lies you down, guiding tsireya's pussy over yours. you both mewl, clits swollen and both of you dying to cum. she starts to grind, intertwining her fingers with yours. "fuck that's so good" you throw your head back against the sand, her whines becoming increasingly louder. you both weren't far from the edge. you look over to lo'ak, kneeling beside you both and hurriedly stroking his cock. "y/n- oh y/n i'm so close" she squeals and moves faster against you, wetness covering both of your thighs. "me too, oh eywa-" you clutch her hands in preparation. lo'ak's breathing is sharp, hinting that he is also approaching his orgasm, "go on, cum and show your daddy". you both scream as your orgasms are in time with each other, squirt covering you both and continuing to flow out due to overstimulation. you both attempt to catch your breath as lo'ak stands up, stroking even faster. "open, y/n" you open your mouth, letting him lead his tip in. he groans "fuckkkkk, holy fuck-" you feel his warm cum fill your mouth. you grab tsireya's chin and open her mouth, spitting some of the warm liquid into her mouth. she swallows with you, lo'ak stroking both of your cheeks. he kisses tsireya deeply before kissing you, chuckling once he is done. "so... i'm gonna be joining these evening beach trips from now on".

#avatar #avatar 2009 #avatar fluff #avatar masterlist #avatar smut #avatar the way of water #jake sully #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #lo'ak #lo'ak x reader #lo'ak smut #atwow #atwow smut #tsireya #tsireya x reader #tsireya smut #atwow fic #avatar fic #neteyam #neteyam x reader #neteyam smut #lo'ak x tsireya #lo'ak x tsireya smut #tsireya fic #lo'ak fic #neteyam fic #jake sully fic

[ashs-cardboard-box]

Stubborn and wounded

~ Sam Winchester/GN!Reader

~ Romantic

~ 1.3k words

Request :3

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“Look- It’s just a scratch. We just… We underestimated how strong the crocotta was- it’s not a big deal.” Sam dismisses as he shuffles into the dingy motel room, lugging Dean over his shoulder. The pair were coated in blood, be it their own or something else’s. Their clothes torn, only exposing the multitude of cuts across their bodies.

 Naturally, upon seeing this, you felt your heart rate spike to an all time high. Crossing across the crusted carpet room briskly, right up to the two of them. Ignoring Sam’s protests, you carefully help Dean over to one of two, twin sized beds. He was conscious, but his left calf was badly cut in two different places, causing the denim of his jeans to stick to his skin. Leaving him unable to walk on his own.

Walking right back up to Sam and gently placing your hands on his bloodied abdomen, searching for a wound. Sam grits his teeth as he takes a sharp inhale, hissing in pain and quickly grabbing ahold of your wrists to get you to stop. It was strange, touching one another without the other dying, but that’s what Sam chose to believe. Your eyes lock on his own for several moments, looking up at him in nothing but pure concern.

“Let me help..” You plead, your voice barely above a whisper. You don’t try to pull your hands out of Sam’s. You’d been running with the impulsive, Winchester boys for a couple months now. Often sticking back and taking care of their wounds for them, to their dismay.

“I can do it myself. I’m not helpless.” Sam grunts stubbornly, gently setting your hands down at your sides; only allowing you to put your hands back onto his abdomen. Your palms stained with the all too familiar, crimson liquid from Sam’s shirt. Your thumbs rubbing small circles onto his hips, treating his beaten body like it were made of porcelain and he would shatter at the slightest heavy breath.

“I know you can,” you murmur in agreement, carefully pulling your body closer to his own. Sam was far from used to this treatment. It’s been so long since Jess had passed without anyone to properly care for him except for Dean. The two of them would scurry back home to lick their wounds after each and every hunt. But now, here you were, treating him like he was the most important man alive. He sighs heavily as he looks over towards Dean, sitting on one of the, rather repulsive, beds as he cleans and sews his leg. His eyebrows furrow as he looks back down at you in front of him, nodding reluctantly.

With his compliance, you grin. Cautiously removing your blood-stained hands from his hips and taking ahold of his own bloodied hands, leading him over to the over twin sized bed, the one the two of you shared– leaving Dean with his own, of course.

As you step away to retrieve a bottle of alcohol, cloth, thread, and a needle, Sam takes a seat at the foot of the bed with a small huff. Unbuttoning his shirt from the top down, peeling the bloodied fabric from his wounded body. When you turn back around, a pained grimace crosses your face, taking in Sam’s torso entirely. He had bruises galore. Lacerations and bullet grazes painted his abdomen and ribs, narrowly missing a severe injury.

Sam looks into your eyes with a sheepish expression. He knew it was bad, but seeing you stand there, it made him reconsider how bad it really was. Your sneakers shuffling against the disgusting carpet as you make your way back over to Sam, kneeling down in front of him, setting your supplies between your legs.

You’re quick to uncap the bottle of liquor. Saturating the cloth strip, subsequently your hand and the carpet below, before setting the bottle back down, supporting it between your knees. “Deep breath. This is gonna hurt like a bitch,” you warn, looking up into Sam’s eyes sincerely.

He nods slowly and does as he’s told. As soon as he takes a deep inhale through his nose, you begin to blot the soaked cloth over one of Sam’s larger cuts. He shakily exhales as he jolts in pain. His hands immediately darting down to grab ahold of the edge of the mattress, clawing at it as if he’s trying to tear it to shreds.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, but we have to.” you coo. Your eyes strictly focused on your own hands as you work on Sam’s injuries. Using the alcohol to sterilize Sam’s lacerations to be able to sew them. It wasn’t the easiest task, for either of you, but it was necessary after all.

Sam bites down on his bottom lip as he nods, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he tries to breathe evenly. Each of your movements sending a wave of pain shooting up his spine. Only worsening as soon as he feels the needle prick his already sensitive skin. He could only hope that Dean was handling sewing himself better than he was from you.

“You’re alright. Just a bit more, Sam, you can do it.” you praise, shifting on your knees to get a bit closer to his body as you work as swiftly yet precisely as possible. The last thing you want to be doing is causing him more pain. Frowning as your eyes stray upwards briefly, looking at Sam’s grimace, before having to look down to your hands again.

He merely nods quickly in response, his breathing coming out in sharp, short bursts. His knuckles turning white from the amount of force he’s clasping the mattress with. He could be convinced there’d be nail marks in the springs if he squeezed tighter. Hissing and grunting painfully, struggling to stay as still as possible for you. Hearing your sweet nothings power him through it all. Even if he wouldn’t admit it, especially not in front of Dean, you helped him out more than you could possibly fathom.

“There you go.. See? You did good. Everything’s all sewn up.” You chuckle breathlessly, leaning forward and biting down on the thread, causing it to snap from the spool. Setting down the spool on the carpet, only to pick up the bottle of liquor again. Dripping a bit more over Sam’s torso, listening to his breathing closely. Sounding as if he’d just come back from running a marathon. He slowly opens his eyes again and they immediately dart down to you between his thighs. A mixture of pain and utter relief crossing over his face as he pants. Letting go of the mattress and reaching down to run his fingers through your hair appreciatively.

You lean into his touch subtly, smiling warmly up at him. It felt like the weight of worry was dragged off of your shoulders upon finishing up. Sitting back on your haunches and rocking to the balls of your feet, rising to a standing position.

“Are you two done yet?” Dean interrupts gruffly. Immediately, the two of you look over at him on the other bed, nervously shuffling away from each other. You, putting away your unused supplies, and Sam, heading into the bathroom to wash off the stink of booze and blood off of him. Dean rolls his eyes and tucks back his bloodied pant leg down, listening to the hiss of the shower in the other room.

“Sorry..” you mumble sheepishly, your back towards Dean as you stuff everything haphazardly back into your backpack. “Don’t be.” he grumbles, his eyes practically boring holes into your back. “But if you hurt my brother–”

“If you hurt my brother, I’ll put you in the ground before you could blink.. I know, and I won’t.” you interrupt, zipping up your backpack before turning back around to look back at Dean, his eyebrows raised to his hairline.

“Good.” he grumbles as he looks back down to the stained carpet. You knew he cared for his brother more than anything, and it was endearing. You wouldn’t dare think about hurting Sam.

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#sam winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural x reader

[blossomwritesthings]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭

pairing: jisung x fem!reader x male oc (afab)

genre: producer!jisung/hairstylist!reader. badboy!jisung. enemies to lovers. twin dynamic. cheating/infidelity au. some angst. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. thematic elements. just a tad bit of angst in this, but mainly, it's just degenerate shit. cheating is a big part of this. smut warnings below cut!! 

word count: 4.1k

summary: the han twins are infamous in south korea for being the #1 duo in the country, with han jisoon gifted in rapping and han jisung in producing. jisoon is the best man a girl could ever ask for- and a wonderful boyfriend. it's just too bad that jisung is the one you truly want out of the two brothers. 

18+ warnings: unprotected sex (keep it safe, my friends). kindaa jealousy sex. harddom!jisung. cheating sex. sub!reader. fingering. dom/sub undertones. degradation (slut, whore, etc.). manhandling kink. size kink. humiliation. dumbification. ownership/possession. jisung edges reader a bunch. overstimulation galore. lots of dirty talk. breeding kink!!. subspace. orgasm denial.

a/n: OKAY- SO !!!! 😖 I first got inspired to write this months ago just from watching this edit over and over again. 😩 originally, this was gonna be a chan fic, but I decided to change it to hanji at the last minute, so here we are lol! 😂 honestly, this is kind of an interesting premise for a longer series, so idk... if I'm feeling inspired to, I might expand on this oneshot and make another part to it... lmk if that's smth you guys would be interested in!! 🤎

💙 - ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ other cool stuff ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌! ࿐ྂ

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

"W-We shouldn't be doing this," you gasped out, feeling the rise of your arousal flooding every part of your mind. It overtook all of your senses - forcing you to see stars, making the blood in your veins boil deliciously, casting visions of rainbows across your mind, flashes of effervescent violet and topaz coating your eyelids. "It's... it's not right." 

The man between your legs was incessant in his movements, pressing your spine a little harder into the shower's cool tiled wall. One hand clamped down onto your hip, nails digging into sensitive flesh there, as he held you up, continuing to hoist your legs around his waist tightly. His other hand was busy at work between your colliding bodies, thumb drawing messy circles around your clit. It was so fucking puffy and felt like it was engulfed in a vat of flames. 

"Why? Because you wanna deny that you're mine? That only I can make you feel this way, only I can fit this pussy so well?" His messy raven locks curled underneath the shower's hot steam, his entire naked form covered in a glistening sheen of suds and sweat and water. "You stay with him- with that prick, but you and I both know that he doesn't bring you to your knees like this- doesn't fuck you as well as I do." 

And the worst part about it- was that you knew he was right. 

Deep down, in the depths of your heart, mind, and spirit, you knew he only spoke the truth. 

That's the thing that killed you the most. 

The Han twins were infamous in the music industry - raising their empire of success from the ground up in the basement of their parent's house when they were just young boys in middle school. As they grew older, they only became better at their crafts - Han Jisoon with his rapping, and Han Jisung with his producing. 

Soon after their 18th birthday, they made their official debut in the Seoul music scene. Instantly, their first track was a complete hit - sweeping the nation with its catchy rhythm and unique rap lines. It was unlike anything anyone had ever heard, and by the time the twins turned twenty-one, they were on track to be the biggest stars of their generation - overtaking all other duos in the industry and winning all the year-end awards. 

You met Jisoon, the singer out of the duo, when you were training to become a hair colorist and he was in his late twenties. One day, a mysterious man came into your salon in Hongdae. Soon after you heard your teacher talk about who he was to some of the other stylists there - you realized that the man you would be working with was none other than the biggest star in the country at the moment. 

Instantly, there was a connection between the two of you. His smiles were so warm, the way he spoke to you so soft and delicate, his laugh contagious. His happiness was infectious, and like a drug, you began to think of nothing but him. After work that day, you came home to watch all of his performances and interviews, completely captivated by his persona. 

As it turns out, he decided to use your salon for his monthly appointments - and soon, after you graduated with your specialty license in hair color, you became his personal hair colorist. 

It didn't take long after that until you two grew a deep connection, and then he was asking for your number before he took you out on your first date together, and the rest... was history.  

Honestly, he was the best boyfriend you could ever ask for. He was so fucking kind and sweet and considerate. He wasn't selfish in the least bit and always wanted the best for you. And when you told him you wanted to keep things on the down-low in regards to your relationship, he heeded your wishes. Over the three years that you two had been dating, not a single word had gotten out to the press about your relationship. Sure, his fans speculated about his relationship status, but no one ever came out with any hard evidence of his true girlfriend.

He had even met your parents during Chuseok soon after your first anniversary, much to their delight. He brought over gifts for your mother and spent time out on your father's boat fishing in the early morning even though he hated fishing and always got seasick. Your mother fell in love with him during your trip, and wouldn't stop talking about the expensive rice cakes he had brought her for that holiday season. Your father also took a keen liking to him, saying he enjoyed having a fishing partner, which was your father's way of saying that he approved of your choice of a man.

All of your friends loved Han Jisoon too. Your best friend, Ryujin, was obsessed with your relationship - and was always checking up on the two of you. She was just chomping at the bit for him to propose, and every Christmas that passed, she claimed that 'next year, he'll do it on New Year- I swear to you that he will.' 

Jisoon liked to hang out with you and your friends when his schedule allowed him to, and you did the same with his large group of friends. Granted, most of his connections were either famous producers or other popular singers, but still - you liked the fact that he wasn't afraid to introduce you to the important people in his life. Because all of it made you feel important to him.

Not to mention all of the gifts he got you - sending you huge bouquets of your favorite flowers when he was away on tour, and sending you little gifts here and there 'just because.' Like the box of chocolates during a particularly shitty day of your period, or the small teddy bear that was programmed with his voice and said 'I love you,' that he bought for you during one of his promotional business trips to Taiwan. 

Overall, he was the best person you had ever met. He was funny and quirky and so fucking entertaining to be around. Not to mention talented- he could write thirty lines of rap within an hour, something you never could get over even after years of knowing him. He was perpetually changing his hair color too, thanks to your help - and for the past year, he had been rocking a dusty blonde look. He also loved to dress in bright colors and wasn't one to shy away from all the new fashion trends.

So... everything must've been amazing, right? 

You had a beautiful, unique boyfriend who fucking adored you and practically worshipped the ground you walked on. 

So then, what was the problem? 

Well, for one thing, the root of the entire bane of your existence was his twin brother, Han Jisung. 

With his perpetually messy black hair, onyx eyes, and scowl he always seemed to wear no matter what. You had never seen him dressed in anything other than dark clothes - grays and blacks only. 

His temperament matched his outward appearance, with his downright rude personality at times and his snide comments that were always directed towards you. He was an absolute thorn in your ass and he loved being one. 

He and your boyfriend couldn't be more different from each other, and you were almost surprised when you first met him after you and Jisoon first started dating. Because... they were such stark opposites of each other it was almost comical. 

But Jisoon loved his brother, despite his flaws and all, and since they had an entire career together, you were forced to share space with your boyfriend's other half. When Jisoon would invite you over to the studio late at night to listen to some of the new lyrics he had written, there Jisung was. Sitting at the desk in the recording studio, directing everything and making changes to the track... just brooding for a fight.

When he worked, Jisung was even more serious than his normal day-to-day persona; changing into this silent, man with a menacing kind of aura surrounding him as he sat behind a huge desk in their shadowy recording studio. 

You'd be turned on by the sight of it all if you were dating Jisoon - his twin brother. 

But as it turns out, life has a funny way of playing tricks on you... 

On your mind and heart and everything you had grown accustomed to. 

And before you even realized it was happening, your dynamics were changing. No longer was it you and Jisoon against Jisung. Slowly but surely, throughout your relationship, you somehow grew closer to your boyfriend's twin brother. 

It started with him being a little nicer to you randomly during your visits to the recording studio, or during the luncheons you'd sometimes attend with your boyfriend and his entire crew. 

Han Jisung turned out to be kind of... nice. 

Despite all of his flaws and rude mannerisms. 

But even so, he was still an asshole, he was still annoying most of the time and a total prick. He liked to get under your skin, and wiggle around in there - teasing you just enough to the point where you were close to blowing up at him. But he always pulled back eventually. 

Almost like, he enjoyed the thought of edging you irrevocably, for years on end. 

Things came to a screeching halt though, when the twins were on tour and Jisoon invited you to tag along with him to their dates in Japan. Not wanting to deny the offer since you had always wanted to visit the country, you joined him during the four days that he and Jisung would be in Tokyo. 

At first, everything was going smoothly. 

Their rehearsal the night before their first show went well, and you enjoyed sightseeing with your boyfriend after he was finished with preparations. After the two of you got back to your hotel, Jisoon quickly fell asleep in your shared queen-sized bed, completely exhausted from his busy schedule. 

And then somehow, you had found yourself roaming the halls of the luxurious hotel, stumbling upon a small alcove in the back of the spacious place, fit with a self-serve mini bar and a few velvet-lined seats overlooking the glittering night's cityscape. 

But the person who was sitting in one of those seats was the thing that surprised you the most, with his black tresses and even darker stare. He regarded you with a tilt of his head, swishing around the ice in his crystal glass that was filled with dark bourbon. 

Pathetically, it only took you three drinks in. 

Perhaps the red wine they served at the hotel's mini bar was more potent than the stuff you were used to in South Korea. 

Or, perhaps you were just as exhausted as your boyfriend Jisoon from spending the day traveling across the city and sightseeing.

But before you knew it, you had somehow migrated onto Jisung's lap, allowing him to place his palms on your ass that was just barely covered by the mini skirt you had changed into to tour the city with Jisoon earlier that night. 

"I have a boyfriend, Jisung," you had said, as the man before you leaned in a little closer to your form. Nose coming close to your exposed neck, he had breathed in a deep sigh. Your spine shuttered from how near he was to you. Nearer than the two of you had ever been before. "Jisoon- he- he loves me." 

After that, Jisung looked up at you with a raised eyebrow, a dark, familiar look twirling right there in his eyes. He stared on at you in silence, before he let out a dry, humorless chuckle. "Oh please- you couldn't give a flying fuck about my brother. Especially not when you're with me..." 

The moment his lips had come in contact with your skin, you melted instantly - like a bar of milk chocolate being held over the high flames of a fire. The fire ended up being him, his heat engulfing you as his mouth came around the spot between your clavicle and neck, teeth biting down there slowly, tongue darting out and licking ever so slightly. 

"I've seen the way you stare- you're practically begging me to fuck you at any chance that we're together," Jisung had grunted out, his mutterings fanning against your skin and making the butterflies erupt even faster in the pit of your stomach. "Such a little whore- why have one brother when you can have two, right?" 

After that, you were trying to push him away. Palms on his muscular chest, you tried to move off of his lap. But his digits just dug in harder to the supple flesh of your asscheeks, and when you moved slightly, you could feel the hardness of his middle gently hitting up into your warm center. 

In the end, you couldn't deny the wetness that was slowly growing in your panties. But you could sure try your damndest to forget about it all. "I'm dating someone else, we... can't..." Your voice trailed off after that, as his mouth traced up the column of your neck, pressing light, heart-fluttering kisses against your jawline and the corner of your mouth. 

"Too bad you're such a horrible fucking liar then," Jisung said in a low voice, staring into your eyes and giving you that look - the one he always leveled your way when he was officially done with your bullshit. "Too bad I can no longer ignore the wetness that's growing between your legs- ignore the way you press these cute little pussy lips together each time I make you squirm with my taunting." 

In the next instant, he was pressing his mouth against yours, swallowing up your groan of surprise, quieting the moans that threatened to slip free from deep inside of you when his tongue danced against yours. 

Turns out, he was right. 

Without even really realizing it, you had been taunting him. 

For fucking years. 

With your combativeness, and playful banter. Not to mention, the long stares and shifting in your seat every time he made you feel... bothered.

He was like a powerful magnet, something you couldn't deny the pull of any longer. 

Your kiss there on the chair in the hotel alcove turned into something heated and disastrous, and soon, you found yourself locked up in Han Jisung's hotel room - hands pinned against the soft downy mattress as his thick cock ripped you right open. He drew the filthiest of sounds out from the depths of your soul as he pounded into you completely raw, fucking you well into the night. He edged you for hours - just like he did in your regular lives - before bringing you over the brink of five different orgasms. 

The sex with your boyfriend Jisoon was good, 

but nothing could compare to the way that Jisung made you feel that night. 

How filled up you had felt - completely whole in every way possible. 

Usually, the sex with your boyfriend was fairly quick, very vanilla, and in the same three positions. 

Meanwhile, Jisung had you in all kinds of ways that night - knees, back, stomach. You name it, he somehow coaxed you into it. 

And afterward, after he finished coating every crevice and surface of your insides and outsides in his seed and sweat and saliva, Han Jisung helped to clean you up. The two of you lay side by side in his bed for a little bit, soon after he had wiped your skin clean. 

No words had been spoken between the two of you then, but you just felt, that nothing had to be said. The deed had been done. You had gotten over the hardest part. 

And now... there was no going back. 

When you had crept back to the room you were sharing with your boyfriend and laid down beside him just as the clock was about to strike five in the morning, you realized that things were completely ruined. 

Nothing would ever be the same again - because no one would ever compare...

To the way Jisung made you feel that night, and how he had made you feel over the past few years, without you even fucking realizing it. 

Slowly, as you lay there underneath the covers, hair disheveled and the marks of Jisung's lips littered across your body - your legs and arms and pussy sore from his arduous, heated attention - the tears slipped out of the corners of your eyes unchecked. You stared at the back of Jisoon, your boyfriend, and cried yourself into a listless kind of sleep, void of any dreams or thoughts. 

"I'm sorry, babe," you had whispered to his sloped shoulders, just before your eyes had slipped shut in finality in the early morning rays of sunlight for that day. "I'm so fucking sorry..." 

Three weeks after they were finished with their Japanese leg of the tour, and back home in Seoul resting before they finished up with their encore concert in America, Jisung paid a visit to the apartment you shared with Jisoon in the heart of Gangnam. Your boyfriend was out for the day, visiting his parents for the rare break that they had in their schedules. 

The moment you opened your door and saw him standing there on the step, your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach. But the two of you didn't have to say anything, because you already knew. 

Things had been ruined the moment you stumbled upon him late at night in that hotel, all those weeks ago. 

That day, you christened every surface of your apartment with your mixed essence. Every place you could imagine, Jisung fucked you on: the kitchen counter, the living room couch, the dining room table, against the front door, in the shower, on the study room's floor, and perhaps worst of all... in your very own bed. The one you had shared with your boyfriend, who was also Jisung's twin brother, for years.  

The sex that day was mind-blowing and cataclysmic, as Jisung led you over the brink of so many orgasms, you lost count after the third one. By the time the two of you were finished and the sun was beginning to set, you were so deep into an odd limbo state of mind that you couldn't even form a coherent thought or sentence. 

And like a thief leaving in the middle of the night, like a ghost visiting you for only a time, Jisung just kissed you goodbye, promising he'd come back soon, and left you in your apartment right before your boyfriend came back. 

He left you as a pile of messy hair, weak limbs, and a murky mind, sprawled out across your bed, completely naked and littered with bite marks and violet hickies. You managed to throw a nightgown on before your boyfriend came home and saw you that night. 

You were so fucking ashamed, but no matter how bad you felt about it all, you couldn't stop yourself. And apparently, Jisung couldn't either. You two were drawn to each other, for whatever reason. And no external factor - even the idea of a long-term boyfriend - was going to stop the trainwreck that you were slowly causing with your secret meetings. 

Over time, the periods spent with your boyfriend's twin brother bled together into a fever dream of passion and the greatest sex you had ever experienced in your life. Any chance you could get alone with each other, with your boyfriend nowhere in sight, the two of you were fucking...

In the recording studio, during the rehearsal for a TV appearance, at the hair salon you worked at, in the bathroom during a late-night dinner with their company. And soon, you found yourself falling into a weird kind of rhythm with Han Jisung. Half of the time, you spent it with your boyfriend, Jisoon. And the other half, you spent it with Jisung... fucking and delving into each other in all different ways. 

Your time spent with the other brother became so intense and all-consuming that you lost track of how long it had been since everything had started. And that's how you found yourself that specific Friday night, with your boyfriend spending the night at the studio working on a recording. Meanwhile, unbeknownst to him, his twin brother was between your legs. 

Jisung had already taken you wholly atop the dining room table earlier that night after you had finished eating the takeout he had brought over. Once you were done chewing your orange chicken and fried rice, the dark-haired man was upon you with a vengeance - ripping off your panties and pushing you atop the wooden table. His fingers had this magic touch to them, and within just a few minutes, with a couple of practiced strokes, he always brought you over the edge in a blinding light of arousal. 

After he was finished with you on the table, you two took a shower together and somehow... he ended up inside of you, once again, for the millionth time in a row. 

"W-What about Jisoon..." You whined out, head bumping against the tile wall at your back with every hard thrust of Jisung up into you. His cock stretched you out so deliciously, and you ground your hips against his, loving the feel of his hand clamped down on your clit, rubbing at it with a rabid kind of heat. "He... He'll die if he finds out, Ji..." 

He flashed you a swarthy, devilish kind of smirk, before he leaned into you, pressing his teeth against your shoulder and biting down on your clavicle. Tongue coming out to press against the purple spot left there, he chuckled lowly. "Oh, just shut up already- I think we're past the point of you giving a fuck about him." 

And then you were clutching onto his wet locks even harder, as he drilled his cock so far deep into you, entire galaxies and other worlds flashed across your vision. Gasping out in pure bliss, you moaned out his name breathlessness, your whines getting swallowed up by the sound of the running showerhead above you. 

"Yeah, that's right... moan my name, bitch," Jisung coaxed in a deep voice, his thumb drawing figure eights around your puffy clit as his cock fucked the squelching juices back into you. "We both know this - us - is never ending... either you leave that fucker, or he finds me fucking you one of these days and everything turns to shit. Your choice." 

You were so fucked out, mind fuzzy with arousal and the pit of your stomach on fire from all of the feeling coursing through your system that you could barely form a coherent sentence. Even still, you managed to crack your eyes open just a tad bit to level Jisung with a serious frown. "N-No... never- don't want to ruin this..." The breath caught in the middle of your throat as the tip of his rigid cock hit that soft spot deep inside of you, making your legs shake around his waist, cunt clenching around his length. 

"Then take everything, you slut- be a good little whore and take daddy's cock," Jisung commanded out in a stern tone, pounding into you incessantly and making your ass bounce back and forth against the shower wall. "Open wider for me, baby doll- wanna see this pretty pussy of yours bulging with my cock." 

As always, you did what he commanded of you. Spreading your legs wider and hugging them a little closer around his hips, your head shot back against the tile of the shower wall when you felt Jisung's cock prodding into you. 

He pushed down on your lower belly, feeling the way his thick cock rubbed up into you so far, he bulged out against the seams and the outline of him displayed deep inside of you. "Oh fuck- such a cute pussy... fits me so fucking well..." Jisung said in a low voice, as he rubbed a little harder against your clit with his thumb. Meanwhile, his dick was reaching all new lengths inside of you, drawing out a flurry of moans from between your lips. "J-Just a little longer... just hold on a little more, 'kay kitten?"  

And in the end, you heeded his commands. All of them. You did everything he wanted, because truthfully- you couldn't help yourself. Couldn't deny him, no matter what. 

Fin.

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#skz #stray kids #skz han #skz jisung #han jisung #hanji #skz hanji #skz han Jisung #stray kids han #stray kids jisung #stray kids hanji #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz han x reader #skz han x y/n #skz jisung x reader #skz smut #skz angst #skz fanfic #skz oneshot #skz scenario #skz han oneshot #skz han smut #skz han angst #skz jisung smut #skz jisung angst #skz jisung smut oneshot #skz jisung fanfic #skz han fanfic #skz angst oneshot

[wheatnoodle]

most things are the same in s4 except steve has a daughter that was dropped on his doorstep before he got his scoops job.

so instead of eddie having to listen to dustin, mike, and lucas (and max if she’s around) going on and on about steve, they’re blabbing about steve and rosie.

eddie has no fuckin idea who rosie is and she’s apparently coming to pick up the kids, but dustin is clearly excited.

“dude, rosie’s coming today. do you know how hard it is to get him to bring her? he always leaves her with robin!” which, okay, since when does robin buckley hang out with steve harrington?

and mike and dustin are arguing over who gets rosie while lucas just hopes this means he get shotgun.

eddie tries to ask his friends, his og friends, who this “rosie” might be. jeff hoesntly couldn’t care less, gareth thinks it’s a new girlfriend, and grant has some big idea about her being an undercover spy disguised as a supermodel. that’s the only time jeff will chime in with a “she’s probably just a friend”.

and then it’s 7pm and a maroon beamer is pulling into the parking lot. steve gets out of the car and like always, he goes inside to collect his boys.

but this time there’s a baby on his hip.

chubby cheeks and rolls galore and a huge toothless smile. brown curls and big brown eyes. dude, eddie’s shocked enough already. but then dustin runs over, shouting her name.

“rosieeeee!!!!” and he grabs her under the armpits, steals her from steve and spins her around. lucas goes to say hi to his babysitter, mike waits for his turn to hold the baby.

eddie is left to stand there and pick his jaw up off the floor before he starts collecting flies because why the fuck does steve harrington have a baby? and why does it make him hotter?

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things season 4 #steddie #single dad steve harrington #steve has a kid #teen dad steve harrington #eddie with a mommy kink question mark???

[kyriethesquishysquid]

Betrayal Never Felt So Good (König/Fem!Reader) Chapter 6

You can find Chapter 1 here, Chapter 2 here, Chapter 3 here, Chapter 4 here, and Chapter 5 here!

Word count: ~6.5K

Rating: Mature

Pre-A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading and even commenting! You have been so dang sweet and I appreciate every single one of you. Your comments make my days so much better and help me stay on track with wanting to create. <3

Also, I got a DM suggesting I put the translations in italics next to the German- would that be more helpful? I'm totally okay with doing so if it'll help everyone be able to read it more fluidly!

A/N: Some soft morning smut with our beloved turning into some rough ass sex?? It’s more likely than you think! Come on, who wouldn’t hear that sleepy voice first thing in the morning and NOT think of sex?? König is the duality of man, so soft and gentle and yet also the most domineering brutal man. We love it. Continued COD and military inaccuracies galore.  

TW: We get a little into reader’s backstory with allusions to a negative childhood but nothing too in-depth yet! I will add triggers for that topic when it comes up! Smut! Soft sweet smut, rough dominating smut, and some deep-ass emotions. Breeding kink - yes, again, I promise it’ll go away for a while after this chapter lol- Unprotected sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral after creampie, MASSIVE overstimulation and forced (consensual) orgasms, dom/sub, dirty talk, size kink, overly powerful!König & weak!reader. Pet names (in English and German), bad German translations bc I’m STILL a lame monolingual American, and STILL no beta because we die like jackass Graves.

Crappy Translations:

Maus - Mouse

Mein schatz - My darling

Meine leibling - My love

Süßes mädchen- Sweet girl

Scheiße - Shit

Du kleine Füchsin - You little vixen

Scheiße, du fühlst dich so gut an - Fuck, you feel so good

Und ich liebe dich, mein Schatz - And I love you, darling

You weren’t sure what time it was when you woke but it was still dark when your eyes fluttered open, though the greyness of the morning sky was beginning to filter through the nylon of the tent. It was calmingly quiet in the forest around you, signaling that the others were still asleep, and a smile crossed your face. You could sleep in. That was a nice feeling. With a little stretch, you arched back only to smack something hard, said obstacle groaning as a heavy arm slung across your waist. 

“Stop moving, maus, s’too early.” 

Fuuucckk. König’s voice was pure fucking sex in the mornings. You’d always heard about the morning voice phenomena but you never really got to experience it before those first few nights with him. If you could, you’d record it and set it as your alarm, just to hear it again and again until you were able to have the real thing every morning. Reaching down, you gently rubbed up and down his arm, taking in the tickle of his arm hairs against your skin until he groaned and jerked you back into him. His groan immediately sent your thoughts from soft morning cuddles to something much darker as you felt the familiar hardening of his cock. 

“Good morning to you too,” you teased quietly, slowly shifting your hips against his.

Though he didn’t react at first, it didn’t take long for you to hear his breaths coming out heavier as his dick pushed harder into your ass, as if instinctively searching for release. A well-placed arch of your hips was all it took, a low warning growl rumbling against the top of your head and fingers digging into the soft flesh of your stomach as he thrust forward. 

“Du kleine Füchsin.”

“Hmm?” you asked back. 

The silky fabric of your nightie was suddenly bunched up above your hips before you felt his big hand cup your sex.

“I said, you are such a little vixen,” he moaned quietly, sending shivers up your spine as his middle finger slid between your lips, “Ooh, you are already so wet, schatz. Does my sweet girl need me?” 

“Ah, ha- fuck!” 

“Shh, shh, shh, I’ve got you, leibling,” he purred lowly, “Don’t worry your pretty little head.”

All hopes of replying were thrown out the window when he started stroking soft circles around your clit. Without a second thought, you moved your top leg back over his with a low moan, symbolically opening yourself to him as your eyes shut once more. 

“Mmm, good girl.”

Your heart lurched in your chest and you decided immediately that him uttering those words first thing in the morning should be illegal, lest you have a heart attack or your ovaries explode. Reaching between your bodies, you were happy to find that he’d removed his pants in the night and his boxer briefs were the only barrier between his cock and your hand. 

He chuckled lowly in his throat as you struggled with the underwear and finally helped remove the annoying cloth, muttering, “You’re so impatient in the mornings.” 

“Only- Only impatient when it involves delaying you fucking me,” you shot back breathlessly. 

The way his dick flexed in your hand at that had you grinning until he smacked it away and palmed your ass, gently guiding your top leg up more so he could easily line up his cock with your entrance until he froze.

“Wait, I should prep-”

“I’m fine, promise, just want you to fuck me,” you cut him off, “Bitte.”

A wiggle of your hips had you both gasping as it pushed his head hard against your cunt. He let out a grunt of understanding and then his hips suddenly snapped forward, burying him in with just one motion. The cry you let out was embarrassingly loud but before you could cover your mouth, his arm curled up under your head and his hand was there instead, two fingers slipping into your mouth while the remaining few pulled your jaw closed around them. 

“You need to be quiet, maus, can’t have them waking up and ruining our fun,” he demanded, amusement obvious in his sleepy tone as he thrust forward again, causing you to moan around his fingers. 

As you instinctively began to suck on his digits in hopes of keeping yourself silent, he let out a broken swear. The hand between your thighs once more took up their gentle caresses and you nearly came on the spot. It took everything in you not to reflexively bite on his fingers when he prodded the back of your mouth but you just barely managed, a muffled gag followed by a heady moan vibrating through your throat earnestly.

 “Ja, that’s it, suck on my fingers just like that, liebling. Fuck, look at you,” he crooned gently, “It’s like you were made for this, to take me just like this. Isn’t that right? Hmm?” 

You managed a weak nod but not much else, your brain lost in the fog of the orgasm building steadily in your core. The sounds of him fucking your dripping wet heat were nothing less than pornographic, slick and loud with each thrust of his cock. It was so much different than last night, softer, sweeter, with the haze of sleep still clawing at the edges of your subconscious. You couldn’t resist grinding back into him as he quickened his calloused fingers across your sensitive nub and whimpered softly.

“That’s right. My perfect little cock hungry slut, made just for me and only for me. Scheiße! Du fühlst dich so gut an.”

That caught your attention, walls instinctively clamping down around his dick and eyes rolling back. God, this man knew each and every dirty little thing you craved before you even did, and you fucking loved it. As much as you wanted the moment to last forever, you knew logically that everyone else would be waking soon, and it wasn’t like he was giving you much option with the way his cock rubbed against your sweet spot with every rock of his hips. 

“Fuck, you squeeze me so perfectly, maus,” he groaned brokenly, “I’m getting close, I need you to come for me.” 

That time you gave an emphatic nod, licking up between his fingers before sucking on them faster. Your nails found his bare hip behind you and held on for dear life as you felt that familiar spark taking hold, teetering so close to the edge that it hurt until his fingers started fucking your mouth. The double stimulation was too much. Free hand slapping over his, you cried out muffled screams behind his hand when it hit, pleasure only increasing as you clenched down around him. Every thrust sent you spiraling farther and farther from reality, lost in your own mind, drunk on ecstasy and everything König.

“Scheiße, Scheiße, mein Gott!” 

It wasn’t seconds later before he was whimpering your name, body shaking against yours while his cock throbbed with every shot of his cum and your hips rocked into his. Your motions were stopped with a heavy hand and he snapped your name in warning. A playful smile came to your face when he shuddered as your walls fluttered around him again. 

“You are trouble,” he hissed.

You groaned quietly when he finally pulled out and released your mouth. 

“If every morning starts like that, I’m defecting from Graves as soon as this is over,” you joked quietly. 

He didn’t respond but before you could figure out why, you were suddenly shoved from your side onto your back, your giant of a lover climbing between your legs and lying on his stomach. Your thighs, strong as they were, were no match for him when he forced them apart and began to place soft kisses across your mound. 

“Oh my god, what are-” your words fell prey to a wrecked little cry when you felt his tongue lapping at your clit. 

“We’ve got time,” he panted against your skin, “Nobody is up yet.” 

“B-But- oh fuck.” 

Brows furrowing, you let your head fall back into the blankets and covered your mouth as a broken sob fled your lips. It almost hurt, how good the overstimulation felt. Your face flushed dark as you realized there was no doubt he would come in contact with his own cum, as the fluids practically gushed out of your cunt with each pulse of your walls, and yet he didn’t stop. Didn’t it bother him? 

Two thick fingers easily slid into your core, tearing a whine from you as you pointlessly fought and tried to rip away from his hold. It felt sinful, knowing his fingers were essentially just shoving his cum back inside you with every motion, and his words from last night reverberated loudly in your mind. 

“Mine to love, and protect, and fuck, and breed.”

“J-Jesus fucking-” 

“I’m not stopping until you cannot stand,” he retorted, eyes wild with hunger as you met them, “I went too long without you and I don’t know how long it will be until I can have you like this again. I’m going to make every- second- count. Understood?” 

You knew there was no arguing with him. Not that you really wanted to anyway, not with the way his fingers stuffed you so perfectly. You knew this was his way of checking in, giving you the option to say no and he would stop, but fuck was the alternative too tempting.

“O-Okay,” you whined quietly. 

Despite the way you bit your lips, muffled little squeaks of pleasure sounded like screams in the still quiet morning. Lips met your leg gently, quickly giving way to a hot tongue and sharp teeth as he bit and soothed little marks all down your thighs. 

“Before we leave here, I am taking a video,” he huffed out, voice tense and low against your skin, “Of you just like this, spread out all perfect for me, so soft and beautiful, making those sweet little noises.” 

Any chance you had of replying was demolished the moment you felt his tongue between your folds again, finding your throbbing clit with deadly accuracy and tearing a shrill cry from your throat. There was no keeping quiet with the sudden flush of bliss that raced through your limbs. Toes curling into his back and fingers tearing at the blankets, your body arched violently into his touch, earning a guttural moan from the man buried face deep in your thighs as he shoved you back onto the ground. 

“S-Sh-Fuck, König, please!” you squeaked, twisting violently in his hold.

You tried your damndest to escape the overwhelming sensations but he was having none of it, his arm reaching between your thighs to pin you down with a forearm to your stomach and his elbow and hand bracing your thighs apart. There was nothing you could do, no matter how hard you pushed or pulled or wiggled. König had you in his capable clutches at his mercy. It was like he couldn’t even feel the way you kicked at him and fuck did you love it.  

“Please, please, I- I can’t-!” 

His only response was the demonic growl that rumbled against your cunt as his lips wrapped around your tender nub and sucked, his fingers taking back up their previous motions in your core. 

Pleasure became pain and back around again as you stared down at him through teary eyes. It should have been terrifying. It should have made you second-guess trusting him so much, and regret not establishing limits. And yet, you weren’t scared, or upset. If anything, you were in awe of him and his strength, his abilities; how, despite instinctively hating being weak, you loved that he took charge of what he wanted. 

As tears leaked down your cheeks, all you could do was watch on in reverie as the blonde-haired god of your new world worshiped you with a devotion previously unknown to mankind. The way his head moved as he suckled and nibbled on your clit was too much to handle, your body falling back in mortifying defeat as he pulled out whine after whine, dragging you toward another high as if it were as easy as breathing. 

“König, please, too much,” you whimpered, shoving at his head.

You nearly cried at the loss of his fingers when he suddenly snagged your wrist away, pussy throbbing at the feeling of slick transferring from his skin to yours. 

“I am not done, maus,” he growled, finally giving your body a slight reprieve as he lifted up just enough to pin you in place with heavy eyes, “Now, hands above you... Ja, just like that. Good girl. Stay like that until I am finished with you, schatz.”  

Without warning, he went right back down. Three fingers slipped in this time, the stretch still nothing compared to his cock but the surprise made you clench down on him as he toyed with your clit mercilessly. Your arms twitched above you, practically aching to grab him or shove him away. It was a mind fuck. Technically you could move, your arms were free, but he had ordered you to stay. Oh, but it was so damn hard when you felt the way his fingers pressed right up against your spot at the same time as he pushed down on your belly. 

“K-König, please!” you keened, unsure exactly what you were asking for. 

Did you want him to stop? Did you want him to make you come again? It was all too much and your head was floating away with every thrust of his digits pushing you higher and higher, that familiar knot growing impossibly tight. 

“Mmmm, that’s it, kleines,” he moaned, “That’s it, good girl, come for me.” 

Just the change in temperature of his breath across your slick nub was enough to throw you over. 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-”

You barely registered your body being bent before his hand slammed over your mouth, his body holding yours up at an awkward angle that only made the pressure of his fingers in your cunt feel ten times stronger. It was hard to breathe and you could feel the sweat pooling across your forehead and chest, but god you wouldn’t stop him even if you were going to suffocate. 

You felt a flash of confusion when he lifted back up onto his knees but it was easily quelled when he began to shift you around, directing you onto your side until your top thigh rested over his as he straddled the other. 

“Been dreaming of taking you like this for some time now but I was worried you couldn’t take it. Do you think you can, kleines?” he asked warmly, running his cockhead against your lips teasingly. 

Oh but why was that so fucking hot? The allusion of being breakable; the knowledge that he could utterly decimate you with his size. 

“God yes,” you groaned throatily, wiggling in his hold eagerly.

As he slowly pushed into you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head out of sheer disbelief. You blindly reached out for him and held onto his wrist, relishing in the grounding touch as he sent your senses into overload. He was always big but in this position… it was earth-shattering. 

“Are you okay, maus?” he questioned breathlessly.

“Fuck yes!” you gasped, “So okay!”

His answering chuckle was dark and delicious. Fingers dug hard into your thigh and held you in place as he finally slammed his hips into yours, shoving his cock so deep that you would have flown away in shock if not for his embrace. 

He was right to be worried, you realized, his large size overwhelming and borderline painful even as it sent you immediately into another screaming orgasm, barely muffled by his massive hand. 

“Oh, coming again for me already, süßes mädchen ?” he growled, “Does it feel that good?”

Brows furrowing in concentration, you whimpered out a mess of unintelligible noises mixed with his name and “Don’t stop”.  

“Fuuuck,” he moaned deeply, “What a good little slut you’re being for me.”

It was funny. There were so many kinks you didn’t know you were into before König, like being called a slut for example. Or were you into them because they were with him? That would be hard to decipher, really. Your train of thought was abruptly derailed when he released his hold on your leg and landed a sharp smack on your ass, ripping a hiss from deep in your chest. 

“‘M gonna cum, maus, you going to take it all again?”

Face reddening at the mental image of how messy you were going to be after it all, you barely managed a little nod before he was slamming ruthlessly into you. Gone was the care of being heard. All that mattered was the little world the two of you created.

“You like when I come inside you, don’t you?” he panted weakly, a devastated whine escaping beneath his words, “My sweet little breeding maus. So- Scheiße- So perfect for me.”  

A little giggle escaped before you whined out, “Could ask you the same.”

Another, much harder, smack landed on your ass and you instinctively jerked from the stinging pain, crying out as it only served to shove him deeper. 

“I asked you a question, klienes.”

Shivers ran down your spine in delight and you quickly replied, “Yes, sir! I love feeling you come inside me. I love being so full it runs out!”

The way his fingers dug into your ass cheek and the throaty groan he gave in reply was well worth any embarrassment your words caused. 

“Me too,” he moaned brokenly, “Me too.” 

With one last powerful thrust, he buried his cock as far as possible in your core with a gravelly moan of your name that set off one final rush of ecstasy, your head falling back and your mind going completely blank. You felt everything and yet nothing, your senses seemingly no longer connected to your brain. 

 There was a comfortable silence in the air as you both caught your breath, his fingers stroking wherever they could reach on your body until he finally pulled out. A weak whimper escaped your lips as he gently laid your leg down before collapsing on the sleeping bag next to you. You weren’t sure how long you laid there for but, somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered that he was moving around after a while and heard the crackle of a plastic bottle. A low groan escaped your parted lips when he forced you onto your back but he shushed you softly. 

“I’m going to clean you up, schatz, I’m sorry if you’re sensitive.”

With a little nod of understanding, you braced for the touch but a little hiss still escaped as you felt the wet fabric come into contact with your thigh. His gentle apology took some of the sting out of the shock as he carefully wiped your thighs clean, warning you before doing the same with your overly sensitive cunt. True to his word, his touch was purely clinical, feather-light touches and little murmurs of praise as he worked until you were clean. The sound of the cloth hitting the side of the tent was the only precursor to him collapsing onto the ground next to you, his arms wrapping you up and tugging you in close until you were forehead to forehead with him. 

After a few moments, you forced your eyes open, unable to stop the little smile that snuck out when you found his beautiful icy blues staring back. Pure adoration shone through his gaze as he reached out, fingers tracing along your soft jawline gently before he grabbed your chin and tilted your head back, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, nose, then lips. 

“I’m surprised you stayed,” you whispered softly when he pulled back. 

His chiseled features were still soft with sleep and you couldn’t resist reaching out to rest your hand on his cheek, thumb stroking along the short blonde hairs starting to grow back. König was always beautiful, but there was something almost glowing about him in the mornings. You wanted to frame him and stare at him forever.  

He gave a non-commital noise suddenly, drawing your eyebrows up in confusion only to earn a warm smile from the Austrian. 

“I love you, meine schatz,” he rumbled lowly, “If I do not have to sleep without you, I am not going to.”

“And if they notice-”

“Then they will keep their mouths shut,” he retorted, eyes sending a ruthless glare toward the tent door before softening back on you, “Horangi and Amy will say nothing. Max will-”

At that, you gasped out and smacked his arm gently, earning a shocked look from the big man. 

“Max!” you hissed back, “Why didn’t you tell me he was one of yours?!” 

There was a flash of guilt in his expression before he quickly smoothed it over, a heavy sigh leaving his lungs. 

“I- I want to keep you safe, liebling, and sometimes that means keeping information away from you,” he explained softly, “If Max were to be found out, you would truly have no information to offer them and you would be safe from any repercussions.” 

Rolling your eyes, you nudged him and muttered, “I love that you’re so protective but you have to learn to trust me.” 

“I do trust you, and I need you to trust me to do what is best for you. Everything I do is with your best interests in mind.”

“I know, I know,” you sighed before assuring him, “I’m not mad. I just- I want to be a part of decisions that affect me, you know? I am a fully functioning adult that can take care of herself.” 

The look of disbelief that flooded his face sent your mouth open in shock. No way. He was not about to-

“Are you sure about that, schatz? You seem to be a magnet for trouble. I have never known a woman who trips or runs into walls as much as you do. You practically need protection from yourself sometimes,” he teased, “And let’s not even start on the serious troubles you end up in.” 

Pouting your lips out, you scooted back to attempt to make room, only for his arms to tighten around you and draw you right back in. You were in no way shape or form able to resist the pull, still extremely boneless from your recent activities. Any attempt you made to vocally admonish his playful ribbing was silenced by soft little kisses across your face, fingers slowly dragging up and down your spine and sending goosebumps over your flesh. 

“I am sorry,” he huffed with a little laugh, “You are just so cute when you get flustered. I promise, in the future, I will try to keep you informed on anything that I can. Just- Just trust me to protect you and trust that I am doing right by you, ja?”

Your fingers, so small against his face, traced up his jaw until you could mimic his hold on your face and pull him into another kiss. 

“Of course I trust you. I love you, König. Thank you for listening and being willing to compromise some,” you whispered. 

A heavy breath rushed out through his nostrils as his arm tightened around your back and pulled you in until there was not an inch of space between your bodies. 

“Say it again,” he purred softly. 

Lips quirking up coyly, you planted a soft kiss to scar over his nose and murmured a little louder, “I love you. I love you so, so much.” 

When his eyes finally opened, you were distraught to find tears glistening over them. Your concerns were silenced by a much hungrier kiss, teeth and tongue overpowering in their mission until you were both in dire need of breath. 

“You, meine liebling, meine engel, are perfection,” he hummed softly as his nose rubbed against yours, “I am so lucky.”

Now it was your turn to get teary-eyed. Damn it, you didn’t want to cry first thing in the morning. You took a deep breath and tried to blink away the tears, only to let out the most hellish screech as the tent began to shake and bang around you. 

“Up and at ‘em, lovebirds, unless you want everyone else to know you’re fuckin’ like rabbits in there,” Max teased quietly, “Which, by the way, what the fuck? Didn’t know you had it in you like that, sir.”  

As your heart raced in your throat, you glared at the tent flap as if you could incinerate him through the fabric with your gaze alone. König chuckled softly, planted a kiss on your lips, and climbed to his knees with a groan. 

“Dankeschön, Max, you may leave now,” König instructed. 

“Sir, yes, sir,” Max jeered, voice trailing off as his footsteps receded. 

“I’m gonna kill him one of these days,” you warned König with a sigh. 

The big man grinned at you but said nothing, going about gathering his discarded clothes into his arms. Everyone always talked about the sex appeal of someone undressing, and you definitely enjoyed that sight, but there was something about watching König get dressed that was just as appealing. Watching his thick muscles work with every movement, practically eating up every last inch of his slim waist as it disappeared beneath the black fabric of his shirt, drooling over the flex of his thighs as he pulled on his cargos… Fuck, he had such a nice ass. He was a visual decadence. You realized with a flush that he wasn’t wearing his underwear anymore and almost questioned it until you saw him pick up the dark, damp fabric. Ahh, so that’s what he’d cleaned you with.  

“As much as I enjoy your staring, maus, you need to get ready as well.”

Mouth snapping shut, you offered him a meek smile and nodded in understanding. 

“I’m going to get changed. I’ll see you out there soon, ja?” he asked. 

“Of course, I-”

Strong hands pulled you in by the waist and his mouth claimed yours gently, a warm rumbling groan escaping against your lips as you cupped his face. 

“I love you,” you whispered, grinning ear to ear. 

“Und ich liebe dich, mein Schatz.”

Once his tall frame was out of sight, you zipped the tent back shut and took a deep breath. God, you’d have to thank Graves for sending you on this silly mission. Maybe you’d send him a fruit basket with your resignation letter. Digging through your bag for fresh clothes, you thought about all the possible ways you could get out of the Shadows with a grin.

…

“Okay, so, it seems like there is only the one point of entrance,” Luke sighed, collapsing onto the log next to you with a groan, “We’re definitely going to need more time to get an exact study of their rounds and how many people are on-site at one time.” 

Horangi and Max made a noise of agreement, the latter of the two dropping down on your other side. As you looked up at him, you felt a pang of guilt rise in your gut. You and Amy had been left at camp, the men claiming that there was no use wearing you all out with the walk since it was just recon at that point, but it was painfully obvious just how arduous the journey had been on them. Not only had they made the three-mile walk there and back, but they had been watching the building for almost ten hours and it was already darkening out when they got back to camp.

“Good thing you left the two who can cook back at camp I guess,” Amy teased.

There was a sudden tension in the air, the intensity between the two palpable as she passed him over a plate and let her hand run across his back. When she retreated back, you gave Max a not-so-subtle nudge and grinned. 

“Don’t start,” he groaned quietly, a surprising heat rising to his cheeks as he bit into the cornbread.

“Oh, I won’t,” you snickered, “I already heard all I need to from her.”

His eyes widened, and you could practically see how he struggled to swallow the bread before he glared at you. 

“Women and your fucking gossip,” he muttered then added on, “You’re one to talk about hearing. ‘~Oh König. Don’t stop~’.”

You reflexively backhanded him in the chest and shushed him, eyes darting nervously around the camp. You knew König had said Max, Horangi, and Amy were safe, but you still weren’t one hundred percent comfortable with just shouting it out to everyone. Thankfully, Luke had headphones in as he shoveled his food into his mouth, and Horangi and Amy seemed to be having an intense discussion about the river the guys had passed on the way through, possibly using it to fish for fresh meat. 

“Wait, where is König?” you asked, a sense of concern tightening your throat.

“He’s on the phone with the head honcho,” Max replied with a shrug, “I already filled in Graves.” 

“Ahh, okay, that makes sense,” you sighed.

There was a calm silence around the camp, only the soft murmurs of the other duo and the soft crackles of the fire making any real noise. It took you back to your younger years- well, the good parts of them. The few camping trips you got to take with your family before everything went south, how you and your sibling would sneak out at night and go “bear hunting”, or the pancakes you guys would make on the griddle in the morning. If only you could have had more of those simple nights. 

“Hey, you good?” Max asked softly. 

Head snapping up, you gave him a confused look to which he gestured at your face. 

“You look sad. You good?” 

Flashing him a little smile, you nodded and replied, “Yeah, just remembering the camping trips I took as a kid. Makes me wanna do this more, to be honest. Without the whole “spying-on-the-enemy” thing.”

He huffed out a laugh and said, “Fair. Maybe sometime in the future. I’m sure it wouldn’t be too hard to get time off between all of us.” 

His optimism had you grinning, bumping your shoulder into his as you agreed quietly. You could only hope that he was right. After you finished up the last five months with Graves and the Shadows, you could find a permanent place closer to König, maybe even with him, if he wanted that. But where would that leave Max? Would he stay with Graves? Would he eventually be back with KorTac at some point? Was it selfish to want to back out of this lifestyle while leaving all the ones you cared about still serving? 

“Y/N!” 

König’s voice broke apart your melancholic thoughts and you unconsciously jumped up to attention as he approached. 

“Yes sir?” you asked. 

“Come, I need to speak to you about something.”

That was never a good sentence. Sending Max a questioning look, you only got a similar one back as you followed König toward the tents. 

“What’s going on?” you questioned.

He didn’t answer at first, frustrated grunts and curses falling out around him as he leaned into his tent. When he finally pulled back, he hung a blanket over his arm and let out a sigh. 

“Just follow me.”

He reached out for you and you quickly wrapped your smaller hands around his big one, looking up at him in curiosity. His expression betrayed nothing as he led you past the edge of the camp. You walked for a good ten or so minutes before he pushed through a dense thicket of trees, the sound of running water disrupting the silence as he held back the branches like the gentleman he was. Once you made it through, you saw a river rushing down the hill, the area around it wide open and beautiful with flourishing flora. 

“This place is gorgeous,” you whispered in awe, eyes lifting to the sky. 

The moon was bright and full, twinkling stars clearer than you’d ever seen in the city. You were startled from your admiration of the cosmos when he suddenly tugged you down and you fell into his lap with a squeak. 

“When I came through here, I just knew I had to bring you,” he murmured quietly, arms wrapping tight around your waist as you leaned into his solid form, “I knew you’d like it.” 

You couldn’t help but grin at that. 

“Of course you would, you stalker,” you teased gently, earning a displeased noise but no argument from the man.

You carefully slid your fingers between his and tilted your head back, taking in both the sight of the endless night sky and the flawless outline of his features. The night was a tad bit chilly but the heat he radiated was more than enough to keep you comfortable. It also provided even more of an excuse to stay glued to him. You watched as his lips parted and then stopped, a little uncertain breath puffing from him before he looked down with pink cheeks.

“What?” you asked. 

“Do you know the constellations?” he questioned. 

“Mmhmm, my- uh, my mom taught me them,” you answered quietly, swallowing through the lump in your throat her name caused, “Would you like to know some of them?” 

It was a sensitive topic, your family, and yet this was the second time in the same night you’d thought of them. Maybe it was the comfort of being with someone who made you feel safe, maybe it was the nostalgia of being out in the woods. Whatever the reason, you couldn’t differentiate if you liked it or hated it. 

“Ja, bitte.”

The tension her name had brought up slowly melted away as you pointed out the simple ones such as Orion and Gemini before moving on to some of the more complicated ones. The longer you spoke, the more confident you felt. It was like riding a bike. His little questions and hums of understanding prodded you on longer and longer. It was almost like you’d never purposefully forgotten the celestial bodies. 

When you felt his gaze on you, you stopped your little monologue long enough to catch his gaze and the expression in his eyes was enough to make your cheeks burn hot. Had you been rambling on too long? Were you boring him?

“What?” you questioned meekly. 

“Nothing, please continue.”

“No, no, if I’m talking too much or-”

He cut you off quickly.

“You could never talk too much,” he retorted sharply, his voice softening after a moment, “I enjoy hearing you talk, especially about something that obviously makes you so happy. You are even more beautiful when you are like this.” 

Lips parting with a little “oh”, you melted into him and quickly averted your gaze back to the sky. Praise in bed was one thing. Praise where it didn’t feel like it was earned… that was harder to accept. 

“So, you are going to teach our kids this then, ja?” he asked, voice somewhere between teasing and hopeful.

Mortification had you hiding your face in his chest with a giggle. 

“You can’t just say things like that, König!” you squealed. 

His laughter bounced your head into his sternum a few times before you stubbornly held on tighter and gave him a little bite on his firm pec. 

“Scheiße, I talk about breeding you and you don’t blink an eye. I mention you mothering our kids and you turn into a tomato,” he snickered proudly, “You are adorable.” 

Groaning, you jammed your finger into his ribs and muttered, “Don’t tease me! You’re evil, you know that?” 

“Mmm, you knew this when you agreed to be mine.” 

Pulling back, you made an obvious show of rolling your eyes and pouting up at him. It didn’t take long for your faux tantrum to melt away as his hands cupped your face and drew you into a soft kiss. Your forearms rested over his shoulders as you shifted onto your knees to sit on his lap. A sense of serenity settled deeply in your chest when you welcomed his tongue between your lips, the calming sound of the rushing river humming through your ears as you soaked his touch and branded the feeling into your memory. When the need for air became too strong, you rested your forehead on his, a content smile curling up your lips. 

“One day, I’m going to need you to tell me all that you know about me,” you sighed after a moment, thoughts flickering back to his earlier admission, “The fact you know I like astronomy is a little concerning, considering I never had a reason for that to be in my records with Graves.”

The noise he let out brought your eyes open and there was a tinge of shame in his intense blues when you caught them. You knew he’d done a deep dive on you, him having glossed over some of the traumatic things you’d experienced the first night you’d been allowed to see him fully. It was just fucking with your mind to understand the depths of the knowledge he had on you. 

“Again, not mad,” you assured him, “I promise. Just… if you know that, then you probably know all the- the bad things too, yeah?” 

He nodded once and it made your chest hurt. You’d kept all of that shit away from your professional records, easily having the court documents from your minor years sealed. Just what the hell was this man capable of? 

“I do. It changes nothing, except it makes me want to protect you even more,” he murmured, “And tells me just how strong you are.” 

A little sigh rushed from your nostrils as you nodded once, pushing away the anxiety and worry in favor of maintaining a gentle atmosphere. You could go deeper into that topic later. You were on borrowed time here and you wanted every bit of it to be good. 

“You’ll just have to make up for it by telling me more about you, like…” you could see a flicker of anxiety rush through his eyes as you debated on a question and it made your heart thump in empathy, “What is your favorite meal to celebrate with?” 

The way his body nearly collapsed in relief told you that you had made the right choice in lightening the topic. 

“You mean besides you?” he asked smoothly. 

“God damn it, König!” 

#könig #könig x reader #cod smut #könig smut #könig fanfiction #könig cod #betrayal never felt so good #cod fanfic

[universallydestinytaco]

The Little Smiling Mermaid PREVIEW

As I promised, a preview excerpt of my Charpim fanfic which will drop May 20th! (^o^) Also after reading the fic, PLEASE give me your feedback in the replies/reblogs, Thank you! 💗💛

Charlie couldn’t sleep on nights like this when the moon was big and bright, something about it made him want to stand outside by the ocean, drink from his flask and play his ocarina. As he played his beloved instrument he fondly recalled a childhood memory of his own when he was about 6 or 7, wearing a cape and an old hat Mr. Boss wore while armed with a little wooden sword, gallivanting around the beach while loudly-and-proudly proclaiming he was King of the Pirates. Little Charlie didn’t have much friends at that time but what he would do was based on one of Mr. Boss’ bedtime stories: writing mercritter runes in the sand and coming back later to see the response. Charlie did exactly that and eagerly waited for the response while distracting himself best he could fighting imaginary monsters and bad guys. Lo and behold Charlie always got a response, while in hindsight Charlie figured it could have been possible that someone, perhaps even Mr. Boss was playing along writing the responses in runes, he couldn’t shake off the magical sensation he got from the afternoon ritual. If it really was a mercritter responding to him this whole time he’d be over the moon.

......

Alan followed Glep and Pim back to the grotto and was astonished at all the "land things" Pim secretly acquired and hidden away for so long, how did he manage to hide it all for so long without Amy tattling on him for kicks? He hid behind a pair of slightly-cracked goggles and inspected upon the mischievous twosome. Pim was combing his hair with a "dinglehopper" as Glep played with a golden bangle, the latter noticed the bittersweet-sad expression on Pim's face and asked: "Yaskawaboyo? (You okay man)?" Alan wondered if Pim was starting to get homesick, (un)surprisingly that wasn't the exact reason why the usually excited mercritter was so somber despite freeing himself. "...Maybe he's right, what if there is something wrong with me?" said Pim, who then seconds after shook his head in disgust at his father's hatred of the surface getting to him. "I just don't see why a world that makes such wonderful things could be so bad?" Pim felt strong and long-bottled up emotions gushing out, he stimmed a little bit by twirling the dinglehopper but that wouldn't do. Whenever Pim had to share his feelings he would sing and dance it all way much to the annoyance of his siblings, but after a period of masking, Pim had to share exactly how he felt.

"Look at this stuff, isn't it neat? Wouldn't you think my collection's complete? Wouldn't you think I'm the boy...the boy who has everything?" Pim gasped in excitement and opened his arms wide while slowly spinning, "Look at this trove, treasures untold, how many wonders can one cavern hold?" quickly turning to Glep with his hands on his hips and sashay-ing with his hair swaying in the water, "Sure! He's got everythiiing~!" Pim swam around observing his collection with Glep following as he continued:

I've got gadgets and gizmos a-plenty...I've got whozits and whatzits galore~"

Opening up a mustache-care box, jokingly offering to Glep: "You want thingamabobs? I've got twenty!" The two shared a little laugh before Pim solemnly closed it. "But who cares? No big deal....." Looking upwards, those longing words sweetly slipped out of his lips: "I want moooooore~"

"I wanna be where the people are-" Pim gently held Glep's fins and twirled around, "I wanna see, wanna see them dancin'~ Walking around on those.... what do you call 'em? Oh!" He playfully teased Glep's fins as the guppy squeaked. "Feet!"

Alan thought to himself: "This is the most elaborate venting I ever witnessed."

"Flippin' your fins, you don't get too far Legs are required for jumping, dancing..." Pim swayed his hips emulating how one with legs can walk on ground: "Strolling along down a... what's that word again?"

Glep playfully answered: "Skeewaboyo (Street)!" Pim smiled and swam up dramatically above where the light was shining through the grotto: "Up where they waaaalk, up where they ruuuun...up where they stay all day in the suuuuun!! Wanderin' free, wish I could be.... Part of that wooooorld~" Continuing with his acrobatics, "What would I give? If I could liiiive out of these waaaaters? What would I pay to spend a daaaay-" He sunk down and rolled around with a big smile on his face imagining what would it be like, in his own words: "-warm oooon the saaaand?" He then turned on his stomach with a humorously pouty look, "Bet'cha on land they understand, bet they don't...reprimand their soooons~" Pim almost relucantly called himself one of King Pimling's daughters up until realizing he wasn't in Meeplantica anymore, he then smiled while gazing upwards, "Bright young men, sick of swimmin'..." He lifted himself up again with a more hopeful and triumphant demeanor: "Ready to staaaaaaand AAAAAAND-" Observing a gilded storybook with a childlike energy he flipped around the pretty illustrations, "Ready to know what the people know! Ask 'em my questions and get some answers!" He came across one such illustration depicting Prince Charming and Fair Maiden cozening up by the fireplace, holding it up and longingly placing his stubby pink fingers on the painted flame, "What's a fire and why does it...What's the word?" He closed the book and held it to his chest, holding his head back and belting out: "Buuuuurn!!" Pim let go of the book, spinning upwards once again and reaching out to the light: "When's it my tuuuurn? Wouldn't I looooove, love to explore that shore up aaaaaabooooooove?" His octave raised at that last word he sang out...then his whimsy melted into wistful melancholy, for there wasn't any way he could achieve his lifelong dream, so he sank back down with a heavy heart..."Out of the sea....wish I could be...." As Glep sadly witnessed Pim floating back down on the sandy ground, he couldn't help but look back up at the light one more time: "Part of that....woooooorld..."

#smiling friends #charpim #pim pimling #charlie dompler #smiling friends pim #smiling friends charlie #smiling friends glep #smiling friends alan #smiling friends fanfic #the little smiling mermaid au #the little mermaid au #fanfic #fanfiction

[mandos-mind-trick]

Sweet Like Sugar

Summary: He's a frequent visitor to your pastry shop on Coruscant. He's not just there for your delicious cakes.

Pairing: Jesse x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, innuendos galore, food, oral, Jesse eats pussy like a man starved, definitely an OSHA violation or several

A/N: Umm yeah. You're welcome.

MASTERLIST

You back into the counter behind you, hands gripping the plastoid on his shoulders for support. He’s still in his armor, his helmet deserted somewhere on a table. He tastes like the pastry he’d been eating as you closed the shop, always happy to help you clear leftovers. He doesn’t get many opportunities to eat real food, much less sweets. He devours your mouth like he did the pastries you gave him, his hands trailing down your back until they reach your hips. 

He comes in every time they’re on shore leave. Sometimes he brings others with him, sometimes he comes alone. They’d shown up randomly one day, the first clone troopers to grace your humble little pastry shop. You’ve come to look forward to their visits, sporadic as they are. 

You mostly look forward to seeing Jesse. 

He was not your type, but yet, he managed to charm his way into your heart. Those big expressive eyes, his sweet demeanor, the politeness with which he regarded you. Maybe it was loneliness, or maybe it was the way he looked at you like you were something special. Like you were more than just the pastry shop owner that gave them free pastries when they came to visit. 

It hadn’t taken long for him to start staying as long as he could, and then past closing. He did it to make sure you were safe as you locked up the shop, but you knew he just wanted to spend as much time with you as he could. 

You’re not sure exactly when things had pushed past the physical barrier, but you weren’t complaining. Jesse is more than happy to give, and you were never left unsatisfied. 

His lips leave yours, trailing down your neck. Your head drops back, giving him space to work as he licks and nips at your skin. He claims you always taste sweet, coated in sugar from hours of baking and frosting and drizzling and sprinkling. You think you probably taste like sweat and a hard day’s work. 

His hands move, dexterously untying your apron from the back. He pulls away long enough to toss it on the counter behind you, his mouth returning to your throat, slowly working its way lower. You sigh his name, fingers tracing the plastoid armor covering his body. He’s so big, so broad and thick as he presses against you. What you wouldn’t give to peel the armor off, to see him and feel him as he is. 

He sucks a mark onto your collarbone before he’s pulling away, dropping to his knees in front of you, the plastoid armor clicking against the tile floor. “Need to taste you.” He says, his hands tugging at the waistband of your skirt. 

“Please, Jesse.” You whine, pressing your hips forward into his hands.

He smirks, tugging your skirt down, one hand closing around the back of one knee to help you step out of it. He grips the other knee, pulling your skirt off entirely before tossing it on the counter with your apron. Your underwear is soaked, knowing exactly where this was heading as soon as he snuck behind the counter. He had waited patiently as you’d cleaned up, even sweeping and mopping the floor for you. He was always so sweet, always so helpful. 

He slips your underwear down your legs, tucking them into a pocket on his belt. His hands trace up your legs, squeezing your thighs before he’s pulling them apart, widening your stance. You press back against the counter, hands closing around the edge for support. His hands continue up your thighs until they’re closed around your hips, holding you as he leans forward. 

He trails kisses down your pelvis, pressing a kiss to your clit before he’s closing his lips around it, sucking. You gasp, grip tightening around the counter behind you. He groans, licking a stipe up your slit before he focuses on your clit again, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud. 

Jesse eats pussy like he eats pastries, like he’s trying to devour you to get to the sweet cream inside. 

He sucks on your clit again, your knees buckling at the sensation. You haven’t touched yourself since you saw him last, far too busy to allow yourself such pleasure. You also know it’s not going to be the same. Nothing is ever going to compare to him, to that mouth, those skilled fingers. 

“Kriff, Jesse.” Your hand shoots out, clutching the back of his head. 

“So sweet.” He moans, suckling at your clit. “Just like sugar.” 

Your eyes roll back as he flicks his tongue against your clit, your hips pressing closer to his face. He swirls his tongue around your clit, strong hands holding your hips still as he relentlessly teases your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

“Gonna cum,” You gasp, head falling back as he doesn’t let up, closing his lips around your clit as he drives you over the edge. 

He shifts lower, mouth closing around your pussy as he slurps at your release, nose bumping against your clit as he works you through your orgasm. You’re panting, chest heaving as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you until you’re shaking with overstimulation, legs threatening to give out. 

He pulls away, chin shining with your slick as he stares up at you. “So sweet.” He groans, licking his lips, squeezing your hips as you gain control of your legs once more. “Always so sweet for me.” He stands up to his full height, pressing you back against the counter. He leans into your neck, tracing his nose along your skin until he reaches your ear, warm breath fanning over the sensitive skin. “I’m going to take you home, lay you out like a dessert and taste every inch of you. I’m going to devour you until the only thing you can think of is my name and how good I make you feel.” 

You whimper quietly, hands lifting to grip his arms for support as your legs turn to jelly once more. “Is that a promise?” You whisper shakily. 

“Oh, sweet girl.” He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “It’s a guarantee.” 

Taglist:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @annoyinglylegendarygoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis, @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga

#star wars #star wars fic #the clone wars #the clone wars fic #clone trooper jesse x reader #clone thirsting #the dark side fic #x reader