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evansbby · 9 months

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another sugar daddy Ari 🫣🥵✨✨

18+ minors dni, daddy kink, age gap, smut

Ari wasn’t a conventional sugar daddy by any means. Well, what was a conventional sugar daddy, anyways? You wouldn’t know, because this was the first time you’d ever been in an arrangement like this. You didn’t know what you expected when you signed the contract. But it’s not like you were complaining…

You weren’t complaining when he made you sit on his lap while he kissed you everywhere. Slowly, sensually, petting you like you were his little toy, while he asked you questions about your life.

“Are you enjoying college?” While he sucked on your neck.

“Tell me about your parents, how are they doing?” While he peppered kisses along your jaw.

“What extra-curriculars are you taking this semester?” As he kissed your cheek and cooed at you.

You’d tell him, being as animated as possible because he seemed to like how chatty you were. And he’d play with your hair and caress you everywhere and put his hands up your skirt or play with your bra strap. It was like you were a delectable meal that he was playing with, and he enjoyed teasing himself almost as much as he enjoyed teasing you.

“Baby, you didn’t spend any of your allowance this week.” Ari inquires one day, frowning as he enters your apartment. Well, the luxury penthouse apartment he was paying for, but he liked to call it yours and you liked having a place of your own so you never corrected him. Not that he’d appreciate you correcting him on anything anyways. Men and their egos…

You shrug, sitting up on the couch where you’d been waiting for him. He’d texted you earlier informing you that he’d cleared his schedule to meet you for lunch. And of course, you assumed lunch was code for sex, which was why you were clad in only a pretty pink lingerie set with silky ribbons and bows, along with a pair of pink high heels which Ari already couldn’t take his eyes off of.

“Sorry, daddy, I just didn’t feel like shopping.”

You cross and uncross your legs, looking up at him and biting your lip. How can you tell your sugar daddy that there’s only so many new dress, shoes or purses you can purchase in a week?

Ari huffs, “I’m gonna have to start punishing you if you don’t spend your weekly allowance, sweetheart.”

But he’s already unbuckling his belt, which makes lick your lips excitably. You’d only been in this arrangement with him for a month and a half, but he’d already got you addicted to his dick. And his mouth. His tongue. His hands…

Ari was so different from the college boys you were used to. Not only was he older, mature, experienced in how to please women, but he was also just… so rugged. And tough. Rough around the edges, so to speak. With his mane of long hair, his bristly beard and wild eyes, he was incredibly virile, handsome, and quite frankly, every girl’s wet dream.

In his 40s, he was now the big CEO hotshot of some huge company. But he’d worked for the government when he was younger, going out on international missions and doing all that dangerous, top secret stuff. But that was all he ever told you about that, and yet you could see it on his face, everything he’d been through and the things he’d seen.

He was hot-headed, impulsive and he took what he wanted when he wanted it. You weren’t complaining, because it made for some fantastic, mind-blowing sex.

Like when he’d taken you out to dinner but midway through the meal he’d decided he’d rather devour you instead, and so he’d pulled you into his lap right there and fucked you gently while he fed you pieces of steak. Luckily, the two of you were in a corner booth. Unluckily, most of the wait-staff had seen, but Ari left them a hefty tip to make sure they never mentioned it again.

Or the time he’d come to pick you up from campus, only to see you talking to one of the boys from your history class. That was the day you’d found out how jealous Ari Levinson was capable of being. He’d slung you over his lap and spanked your ass raw for the better part of the journey home. His limo driver had drawn the partition, and you’d cried until your daddy pulled you upright, kissed your face and told you it way okay.

Or, the time you’d forgot to call him daddy during sex once, which was very much against the rules. Ari wanted you to call him daddy and nothing else when inside the bedroom. Which was why he’d tied you up and aggressively licked your cunt till your legs were shaking and you were on the brink of passing out, and the only word you were able to utter was “daddy.”

Back in the present, Ari allows his pants to drop to the floor along with his boxers, and he gives you a meaningful look.

“Daddy’s had a long day and wants you to suck his dick, sweetheart.”

You sink down to your knees, trying to be sexy about it and you know he appreciates that. You love how he can’t take his eyes off your body, how the lingerie hugs your curves and pushes your breasts up. How tantalising your cleavage looks, especially with you on your knees in front of him. You know Ari loves your body, and loves buying you pretty, revealing things so he can show you off to all his friends and colleagues.

You grab hold of his big dick, throat already hurting at the thought of having that inside your mouth. You loved his dick because it was pretty and brought you so much pleasure, but it was also so insanely big, and Ari loved to make you choke on it. Which happened every time you gave him a blowjob because you still weren’t used to his size, and he preferred you taking all of it in till you couldn’t breathe. You knew he loved it when you couldn’t breathe, when his enormous dick was suffocating you…

“And then after you do that, you’re going to sit on my lap and scroll through my phone till you’ve found some nice things to spend your allowance on. Got that, gorgeous?”

You nod submissively, and Ari smirks. He’s still got his belt in his hand and he loops it around your neck, tightening it till it’s incredibly snug. And just being there, by his feet with a makeshift leash around your neck gets you wetter than it should.

“Such a good little girl,” Ari grunts, grabbing a fistful of your hair as you take his cock into your mouth. Giving Ari a blowjob is always a messy affair, and soon enough, he’s thrusting in and out of your mouth at top speed, muttering profanities while he orders you to keep your eyes on his.

He rubs his dick all over your face, smearing your cheeks and nose with his precum and your own spit. He slaps you across the face with his cock, chuckling breathlessly when you pout because he knows how wet it gets you. And he grabs your hair, pushing you down till your deep-throating him, your nose pressed against his pelvis till you can’t breathe and you begin to flail your limbs.

But his belt around your neck keeps you in place, as does his constant praises “What a good little girl,” “daddy loves how well you take my dick,” “you’re so good for me, baby. So sexy and cute when you’ve got my dick down your throat.”

He cums on your face and doesn’t let you clean it off. He tells you that you look beautiful like this, and then, true to his word, sits you down on his lap and hands you his phone. You scroll through one expensive brand website after another, all while he plays with your lingerie, petting and kissing you how he loves to, and telling you how sexy you are with his cum on your face.

“Sweetheart, if it was up to me, I’d have you in nothing except covered in diamonds, and my cum on your face.”

He immediately orders you an expensive pair of diamond earrings from Cartier (as if you haven’t already got two whole jewellery boxes full of diamonds and pearls and sapphire and what not — all from Ari of course). And then he insists that the earrings were his gift to you, and that you still need to spend your allowance.

After a lot of pouting and grumbling, and some reprimanding smacks to your bottom later, you’ve let him buy you two Chanel handbags, a dress from Versace’s newest Resort collection (not even in stores yet, but Ari had his connections), as well as five new pairs of shoes (all high heels, of course).

“Now was that so hard, baby?”

“I guess not. But I’m gonna run out of space soon, with all the things you keep buying me.”

Ari scoffs, “I have another apartment in the upper east side. You can use it as your shoe closet.”

“You’re really into the heels, aren’t you, daddy?” You tease, twirling your bare legs in the air, your heels catching the light and you feel Ari getting hard again. He grabs your ankle suddenly, pressing kisses up your calf while you gasp and squirm in his lap. His bonded digs at your ass and his hands fondle you everywhere, tugging at your lingerie before he abruptly stops himself.

“Baby, go wait for me inside the bedroom. Everything off except the shoes. And lie on the bed for me with your legs spread out.”

You raise an eyebrow, “That’s awfully specific, daddy—OW!”

He smacks your ass four times in quick succession.

“Go. Now. I’ve got the rest of the day off and daddy plans to fuck your little pussy till I’ve had my fill. Which won’t be any time soon, so take a couple of bottles of water with you too.”

***

JSJDSJSKSKSK THE END IDK I AM IN SYCH A SUGAR DADDY ARI MOOD BYE.

#sugar daddy Ari #Ari levinson #ari levison x reader #Steve rogers #Chris evans #chris evans fanfiction

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batfamluvr · 3 months

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Valentine's Day with the Batboys

CW❣️: riding, semi-public sex, unconventional aftercare, overstimulation, cunnilingus, bath sex??, mirror sex (if you squint, writer was rushing and it's obvious who they don't read enough of or just don't particularly like.

Dick Grayson had been fucking you well into the night, inside some abandoned building on his patrol. Your body was pressed into the chilly brick wall and his sweaty chest was pressed against your back." Fuuuck," he breathed out and continued his bruising pace.

His thrusts were frenzied and desperate now. Dick's bottom lip had retreated in between his teeth and he was purring into your ear." Perfect," he rasped," pussy." His black and blue gloved hands kneaded every piece of meat and muscle on your body.

"Good girl," he breathed out, trying to retain some sanity." Takin' me so well. So slick and wet." With that, he pulled out at the very last second and came onto your ass cheeks with quivering, tensing thighs and choked groans.

Dick had slid down the wall, huffing and groaning." Happy Valentine's, sweetie," he said, pulling a single vibrantly red rose from his suit pocket and handing it you.

Jason Todd's head was thrown back and his mouth was open in a silent moan as you rode him silly in the bathtub of the hotel he'd rented for you two. Rose petals and vanilla bubbles stuck to the small of your back." Goddamn," he groaned and smacked your ass. The sting was delicious.

" so addictive," he grunts, hands sliding up to cup and play with your tits. A sweet whine flows out of your mouth as his soapy hands circle your nipples, leaving them hardening in the cool air." You're enough to drive a man wild."

Jason almost felt toyed with after a few minutes." Sorry, babe, water sex is not what they make it out be," he coos tauntingly and plows into you. The back of your head was smacking against the mirror. He had you in missionary on the counter. He was trying to cushion the impact of your head, but your gummy walls were cradling his cock perfectly and his focus was having a hard time splitting.

With each thrust, roses and bubbles would hit the floor from where he'd dragged you out of the tub, needing more contact and pleasure. The water made it all feel dry and strenuous. His hand stroked your cheek, eyes soft and juxtaposing his sharp pace. Each snap of his hips had you seeing stars.

He'd ended up coming with his cock down your throat, getting himself a mini-blowjob in the process. Of course he finished you off with his tongue since his cock was down for the count and he's a gentleman.

"Happy Valentine's to us and us only, my love," he purred and drug his finger down your slit, over the overstimulated and throbbing clit he'd sucked dry.

Damian Wayne gazed at your cunt as it stretched over his cock. It was Valentine's Day and he spoiled you rotten. Streamers and balloons were thrown everywhere; half eaten steak and half-drank expensive wine laid on the nightstand of his room.

You'd convinced Damian to let you ride him, to finally be spoiled for once. He sucked in a sharp breath, toned stomach rippling." Beautiful," he stated in a hushed tone. If you didn't know Damian any better, his version of sex-talk would've gone over your head. But it didn't. You blushed and ran a hand through his straight, black locks.

The only sign that he was even alive was his mouth, which was parted into a silent groan. Your thighs locked into a squatting position and you began to bounce on his cock. Damiann grasped your thighs as his back arched up into you." Beloved," he rasped out.

The sheets were sliding off the corners of the bed; the roses and streamers on the mattress were swiftly getting kicked off. Damian had a grip on the ends of your hair, controlling your pace." Harder," he commanded, regaining some dominance." Do I look like I'm made of glass?" A sharp, cracking sound split the grunts and moans. He'd smacked your ass." 'M not. And I don't scare easily so break me, if you can," he scoffed.

It had been at least ten minutes and Damian hadn't cum. Damn him and his stamina. You had cum twice; your thighs were aching and your cunt was pulsing and leaking onto his pelvis. If it weren't for you being the one to convince him to be ridden, you'd have gotten off long ago.

"Dami," you moaned out, hands on his toned chest. He'd lost it; the sultry, almost pornographic spill of his name from your mouth was enough to jerk his hips and have him shoot his seed into you." Shit," he breathed out, hands falling from your hips to your thighs and caressing the aching muscles as he tries to catch his breath.

You stifled chortles at his cussing, since it was so rare. Neither one of you panicked, both so caught in the bliss, and the subconscious knowledge of knowing you were on the pill." I hope I made this V-Day memorable, Dami," you puffed tiredly.

Tim Drake (don't read much of him, sorry) had you on your back, arching up into his mouth. The night of love and passion had started slow---kisses, hickies, and sweet nothings. You'd always believed that Tim enjoyed the foreplay more than the actual sex.

With time, you were able to move the night into something more...erotic. Now your hands were carding through the raven waves as his tongue lapped greedily at your weeping cunt. Pornographic mewls and whines flowed from your lips like a ballad, seducing Tim. His hips were thrusting down into the bed; he was trying to sync his tongue and his hips.

"Yes," you moaned," right there." Tim's tongue fucked in and out of you, two fingers curled in your cunt. The soft scratch of his nails on your pillowy walls was heavenly. It felt as if the bed would levitate you straight to Aphrodite's feet.

Gazing down at him, you could see the ethereality of his features. They were soft, delicate; his pupils were blown and clashing with his electric blue eyes. His plump and supple tongue was shimmering with your body's gratitude before and after he brought you to a planet-imploding orgasm.

Your eyes screwed shut and your back hunched and thighs quivered. Tim's hands clasped around your waist, calming you, bringing you down gracefully. The position you two held looked renaissance painting worthy.

Soon, your thighs relaxed and you slumped on the mattress. With a yawn, you said," so tired, Timmy." His electric eyes flickered to your glowing face." But you haven't eaten your chocolates yet."

Bruce had you on your back, legs pressed to your shoulders as he pounded into you. It was one of his favorite positions when he was feeling passionate. He liked to see your cheeks redden and lips wet and plump from all the kissing. He thought you looked divine like this---a light sheen of sweat coating your face, limps slobbery and plump, eyes glossy and fucked out.

"Bruce," you whined sultrily. He'd already brought you to three celestial shifting orgasms." Please." The makings of a grin crawled up his face and his two of his thumb snaked into your mouth." Again, sweet one," he commanded. You moaned, skin searing with enough lust and desire to make Venus blush.

A light, nearly invisible blush spread over Bruce's cheeks. For a second, the only noises heard were the erotic and lustful sounds of his hips smashing against your used and slimy cunt. His hands were pressed on the backs of your knees, subtly pushing them up farther.

Soon, he came with a shout, falling against your chest and panting. He promptly pulled the condom off and tossed it in the trashcan beside his nightstand. Your arms wrapped around his sweaty and blistering body." Are you okay?" He asked as softly as he could, trying terribly to keep the Batman out of his voice. He rang for Alfred to start a bath and order-in.

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strawberrysturniolo · 4 months

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bookstore // bf!chris

summary: when you're having a shitty week, your bf, chris, takes you bookshopping for some retail therapy

The past week has been complete fucking hell, and the worst part, is that I don’t even know why.

It feels like the world has been against me in every way, piling the most ridiculous things on top of me like I’m laughing stock, being used for someone else’s entertainment.

It’s not fucking funny.

I have fully accepted defeat at this point, keeping myself secure in my room until it is deemed safe to leave.

My boyfriend, Chris, has been adamant on me going about my days like nothing is affecting me. As supportive as he is, and as much as I love him, I sometimes wish he would just let me wallow in peace and feel sorry for myself. That’s just not how he is though.

“There you areee,” he sings as he comes into my bedroom with a hand behind his back.

I peek up over the blankets swarming me, trying to look around him and see what he is hiding from me. “What’s that?”

He grins. “Get out of bed and I’ll show you.”

I groan and lay back down, pulling the blankets back up.

Chris lets out a sigh and says, “Fine… I guess I’ll just have to drink this iced brown sugar oat milk chai tea latte myself…”

Damn it.

“Wait.”

I can picture the smile on his face. “Yes?”

“Leave the drink,” I command.

He tsks. “Come to the living room and you can have it.”

He wins this time.

I pull myself out of the comfort of my bed and drag myself to the living room. He sets the drink down on the table and waits for me to retrieve it, and when I do, he says, “We’re getting you out of your bed today.”

“And how do you plan on achieving that?” I ask over the lid of my latte.

“By taking you to the bookstore.”

My eyes nearly fall out of their sockets.

Chris hates going book shopping with me. While he often praises me for my interest, saying it’s adorable and that he can’t help but stare at me while my expressions change throughout the book I’m indulging in, he cannot stand going shopping with me. What turns into a basic trip to pick up one or two books turns into a three hour excursion with handfuls of books being carried out, and hundreds of dollars drained from my account.

“You’re kidding.” I know better than to take him seriously in this situation.

“The opposite,” he surprises me. “I don’t want to worry about how you’re feeling, so we’re going to do some retail therapy with books. Plus, I don’t know when you’ve eaten, so we’re gonna get some lunch too. My treat.”

My cheeks blush at the idea of Chris wanting to shower me in his love today. He loves taking me to get something to eat, spending his money on me whether it’s a $10 chick-fil-a meal or a fancy steak dinner. While some boyfriends send their partner money to get their nails done, mine sends me some every so often to treat me to books.

I always insist that he doesn’t need to, but Chris fights back every time, saying he has more money than he knows what to do with, and that I deserve to be spoiled, especially by him.

I used to fight him on it, but I know better than to do that now. It always ends in a stupid fight, and I know he is doing this out of love, so the last thing I want is to turn into something negative.

“Okay,” I give in, heading back to my room to change.

“I knew that would get you!”

–

Chris’ arms are full with books that I have accumulated since walking into the store. He sets them down every few minutes to stretch his arms and crack his knuckles, and I can tell he’s biting his tongue to keep from complaining.

He watches me and nods along as I explain every book that I look at. He seemed interested in the first few, but as the list grew, I can tell he’s forcing himself to pay attention.

Feeling guilty that he isn’t enjoying his time and he is sucking it up just for me, I say, “Okay, let’s get out of here soon so your arms don’t fall off.”

“Baby, it’s fine,” he assures me. “I’ll buy a bag if I have to. Keep doing your thing. I can go look at something else in the store that interests me while you shop, but don’t feel like you need to cut your time short for me. The whole reason we are here is to cheer you up.”

“I don’t want to spend all your money.”

“You aren’t,” he insists for the thousandth time. “And if you keep yourself from getting books because you feel bad, I’m going to come back and buy them for you anyway, so you may as well get them now.”

There’s no way around him.

Another 20 minutes passes, and at this point, my body is starting to give out, so I can’t imagine how Chris is feeling after lugging books around. “How many do you have?” I ask, looking back at my boyfriend who struggles to keep up as we head to the checkout line.

“Twelve,” he says, sighing as he sets them on the counter to be scanned. I add two more to the top of the pile. “This is insane, you know that right?”

“You were the one who said ‘I insist! My treat!’”

He rolls his eyes, laughing as he swipes his card. “Yeah, yeah.”

–

The rest of the day is spent with me organizing my bookshelves, scanning the backs of each book to decide what to read while Chris orders takeout. It only seemed right that we ate something at home since he continued to let me know how exhausted he was after shopping.

I practically inhaled my meal just so I could start reading one of my new books, sitting right next to Chris on the couch, who was still dissecting his food.

Every so often, I can feel Chris staring at me.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head. “You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing?”

He sets his plate down on the TV tray in front of him, then looks back at me. “I always know something good is happening in the book when you scrunch your nose. It’s cute.”

I cover my face with my book, now embarrassed at my outward reactions when I read, something I had no clue I even did.

“Noooooo, don’t hide,” he says, pulling the book down so he can see me again.

He moves to sit closer to me, resting his head on my shoulder as he stares down at the pages with me, placing soft kisses on my cheek every so often before letting himself become just as invested in the story as I do.

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x reader

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k9iriz · 4 months

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𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬

𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬!𝘧𝘦𝘮/𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘫𝘰𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘸

𝙨𝙮𝙥𝙣𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙨: 𝘫𝘰𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘬𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘵, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘶𝘯 𝘰𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴.

[ warnings: fluff w/ a pinch of smut, newlyweds alert. new years update so im sorry if it’s short i just wanted to write sumn about joe:) ]

“joe! the fight is on!” i yelled as i ran downstairs, rushing to turn the tv on as joe followed behind as i was in a robe, and he was in his, open and out.

“alright, here i come, mrs. burrow.” joe jokingly chuckled as he grabbing a water before he sat next to me on the couch, grabbing a water before immediately tuning into the main event of the card.

me and joe normally bond on things, even special date nights reduce to ufc fights or any type of martial arts because it’s rare for a girl to like it.

especially since we were newlyweds and we had all the free time since the season was over. but not only do we do, we made up a tradition to do on these fights. it encites the fun within it all.

betting on it.

“usman has leon in the second around by knockout.” joe smiled as he took a sip of his water, making me blink out and stare at him.

“nope, leon has it, third round, knock out. bet on it.” i smirked that the last part as i looked over at him, smirking to say the least, before looking at me the same way.

“okay, winner…gets 500 dollars.” joe shrugged as i looked over at him, smirking as he did the same.

“okay, but let me raise the steaks. double it and the winner gets the cookie jar money.” i smiled as joe furrowed his eyebrows, looking at me as i sat up.

he was taken aback by that, but he wasn’t turning it down.

we had a cookie jar with money we randomly have left to save for any future things we planned on, but for right now it was just sitting there at that moment.

it was a total or near estimate of 3,800-4,000 dollars in there, but who really was counting?

“alright. you’re on beautiful.” joe confirmed as he kissed my lips, making me blush, he’s so cute.

I YELLED loudly as i jumped up and down, my prediction was right after all.

joe looked defeated in some way but smiling because this was the best ever bonding time we’ve ever had, especially date night kinda things. just proud of me but it kinda sucked he lost thousand dollars.

“i told you! didn’t i not?” i squealed as i jumped up and down on the couch, making joe laugh, his face turning red at his wife being hyper.

“alright, alright beautiful. you got me there. congrats.” joe chuckled as his face turned red making me slouch right back into his lap, facing him.

“mnm…thank you mr. burrow.” i smiled as he kissed me on my cheek, tapping my thigh as the ppv concluded.

“what do you plan on doing with the winnings anways? shopping?” joe asked curiously as he looked at me with his hooded blue-icey eyes. lord. if looks could kill.

i took it in as i giggled a bit, but i thought about it for a second before smiling, adverting my eyes back to him.

“im gonna use it…and the cookie jar money…go get your whole mancave redecorated like you asked, for your birthday baby.” i smiled widely as joe’s eyes lit up, making us share a passionate kiss, whi body language changed immediately.

he loved how i was never selfish and always thought about him, even though he’s great at taking care of me in return.

i love him so much.

“really?” joe asked again as i chuckled, confirming it as i yelped at him randomly picking me up out of nowhere.

“i love you so much y/n.” he whispered as i smiled, doing the same.

“i love you more…but where are we going? we have like two more fights to watch.”

“nope, but you know what i really wanna do? i wanna go some actual rounds, and make you tap-out…hm?” he bit his lip at me as i wrapped my arms around his neck, returning the same energy look.

the sexual tension. “mhm…that’s if you don’t tap out on me.” i playfully smirked.

“trust me. i got enough energy.” joe smirked as he took me into the back, making me squeal the night played out well.

and we did some unspeakable rounds that night…date night successful.

[ HELLO?? nobody asked for some joe newlywed fluff with a pinch of smut HUH? but happy new years! 😗 even though they lost so idk why im updating. ]

#joe burrow x oc #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow smut #joe burrow #joe burrow fluff #joe burrow angst #nfl fluff #nfl smut #nfl imagines #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow x black reader #joe burrow x y/n #joe burrow x you

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blindmagdalena · 1 year

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imagine being hired by vought to be a sort of housekeeper to homelander, doing his laundry and cooking for him in his penthouse. he’d immediately grow to love having someone to come home to, and would automatically slip into husband mode whenever he finds them doing him some wifely act of service (conveniently ignoring the fact they’re paid to be there, of course)

ao3 link

Working for Vought, specifically Homelander, turns out to be an insanely simple gig. Typically, you never even see him. You're free to do your cleaning in peace, picking up after America's favorite hero. He rarely ever leaves a mess, but there's enough to keep you employed. Tidying up his towels, replacing his hygiene supplies and tooth brushes. You're trained specifically on how to clean his suits. You empty and stock the fridge. He goes through a lot of milk. You always make sure to get whole. He lodged a complaint the one time it was less than. You were told initially that your cooking services wouldn't be necessary. Homelander isn't known to be, well... much of an eater.

Still, you didn't want the food you stocked at the start to go bad, so one day you prepare a few meals and put them in containers in the fridge. You include little notes with instructions on how they should be reheated. You sign each one with a little heart simply because that's how you've always done it, and pin them to the fridge. You think nothing of it. Homelander is dumbstruck by it.

At first he's affronted that you would leave him cold food in his fridge and expect him to heat it up for himself, but there's something distinctly... loving about it. Coming home to his laundry clean and his shelves dusted never felt like that. It was nothing more than a reset, an automatic process that he didn't dedicate any thought to. But this? This is personal. This reminds him that a living, breathing person was in his home, tending to it, and that person... cooked him a meal, and left him a little note. With a heart.

The next morning you get a text that you will indeed be cooking for Homelander that evening! You're in the midst of it, staying later than you usually do, when he walks in the door. You aren't making anything fancy, just steak and mashed potatoes, but he sucks in a breath like he's inhaling the scent of a gourmet meal. His smile is broad and gleaming. It makes your heart skip a beat.

To your surprise, he introduces himself. He shakes your hand firmly, and holds your stare as you remember your manners and manage to spit out your own name. "Charmed," he says through that radiant smile, and you feel like he means it. His eyes are somehow much bluer in person. His gaze flickers to the stove, and he clicks his tongue. "Not to question your craft, but is this really enough for two?" Looking at the steak currently searing, you falter. "Oh, I'm sorry, are you having company? No one told me." "Well of course I'm having company, you silly goose. You're standing right here, aren't you?" He asks, putting his hands on his hips. It's cheesy, like a moment straight out of a sitcom, but you fluster anyways. This man has such presence to him.

"You... want me to eat with you?" You ask, bewildered.

"Be a shame to cook up a storm and not even feel the rain," he laughs, as if you're the one thinking strangely here. He's already gone to the fridge, and pulled out a second steak. He offers it out to you with that same charming television ready grin. "C'mon. I can hear your stomach growling."

Tentatively, you take the package from him. "Okay."

That night, and each night that follows, you cook Homelander a meal at the tail-end of your shift, and sit down to eat with him. It's surreal, but after the second night, it occurs to you that you've never once seen sign of him having company. There's never extra dishes, or towels. No remnants of a party in the trash. If he does have friends, they're certainly never here.

You can't help but wonder if he's lonely. The thought humanizes him from the larger than life image you had of him in your mind, and you have an easier and easier time engaging him in conversation. He's funny, if not a little strange. There are times when you don't really know how to respond to the things he says, but he often moves on quickly enough to keep things from being awkward.

Truth be told, you're starting to quite enjoy his company.

Homelander begins showing up earlier and earlier into your shifts. The next week, it's barely after 4:00pm when he strides through the door, greeting you with a chipper, "Heya!" and a little salute.

You turn off the vacuum, and despite being a little caught off guard, you smile at him. For the first time, you say, "Welcome home!"

For a second, you worry you've said something wrong. That smile slips off his face, and he stands frozen a touch too long in the doorway. However, before you can add an amendment, his lips stretch back out and he closes the door behind him. "Good to be home," he says. There's less of that showmanship in his voice, you think.

"I didn't know you'd be home so early, I haven't finished-" "Oh, don't mind me, you do your thing. Pretend I'm not even here," he insists, taking a seat on his couch.

You expect him to occupy himself in some way. A book, perhaps, or even just his cellphone. Instead, for the next hour you're keenly aware of the fact the only thing he seems to be entertaining himself with is you.

After that, you cook dinner as usual, and the two of you eat amidst pleasant, casual conversation. It's the same as any other night, and yet somehow this evening feels distinctly different. You can't name exactly what it is, but something has changed.

Homelander begins filling out your time with new requests; he's suddenly become quite fascinated with plants. You had mentioned to him before that you like to keep them, despite the work they take. Your shifts grow longer to account for your new tasks.

All the while, he's been more and more present during your shifts. Although he doesn't directly take or distract you from your chores, you're always keenly aware of of his gaze on you while you work. You try not to overthink it, but the weight of his attention is heavy nonetheless.

One day, you're sweeping up a mess of spilled dirt, struggling to maneuver around the legs of a piece of furniture, when Homelander hops up to intervene. "Let me get that for you, sweetheart," he says, lifting the entire cabinet up as if it weighed nothing at all.

You lose yourself for a moment, standing dumbfounded before abruptly remembering to sweep the dirt out from under it, your heart racing. Your mind keeps replaying the pet name, and with every echo of it, your cheeks feel redder. Homelander smiles, watching you all the while. The next day, you arrive to find an enormous bouquet of roses sitting in a vase on the kitchen counter. There's a note with your name on it, and a simple message: Thanks for all your hard work. Keep it up! The note is signed with Homelander's sprawling signature. Smiling widely to yourself, you tuck the note into your pocket, and lean in to inhale the sweet smell of the flowers. On another occasion, it's time to clean the blades of the ceiling fan in his room, but you can't find that darn step ladder anywhere. Homelander must hear the way you're shuffling around and muttering under your breath—you swear the man hears everything—because he steps in to check on you. "Everything alright in here?" He asks, peeking in from the doorway. "Oh, fine, fine, I just can't find my step ladder anywhere. Have you seen it?" You ask, feeling flustered. Getting put behind schedule never fails to trip a thread of anxiety in your chest. "Can't say I have," he answers, stepping inside. He looks around the room. "What'cha need it for?" "Ceiling fan. Uhm, it's okay, I'll get to it later, if that's alright with you? I'm sorry, I could have sworn I left that ladder-" You stop yourself, realizing Homelander is suddenly striding directly towards you. Uncertain, you begin to take a step back, but he's fast. He puts an arm around you, and without warning you're being hoisted up into his arms as easily as a doll.

"Up y'go," he says, supporting not only your weight with ease, but resting you snug against his chest. You squeeze your knees together, arms pulled in tight, as if making yourself tiny will somehow protect you from the embarrassing quicken of your breath, or the rampant beat of your heart. "There you go. Who needs a step ladder when you've got me?" He asks, grinning down at you with that familiar dazzling spread of pearly whites. His smile feels better suited to a Hollywood audience than this quiet little moment, but the only thing you can really focus on is the fresh, woodsy smell of his cologne. "Uhm, I-I still don't think I can reach-" You stop, noticing the ceiling fan is now within arms reach. "Oh." Looking down, your eyes widen. Neither of your feet are touching the ground. Instead, Homelander is hovering well above it, holding you adjacent to the fan. You can't help the nervous laughter that suddenly bubbles out of you. "Oh my god," you laugh, looking around. "You're flying!" "As I'm known to do from time to time," he says, voice dripping with satisfaction. His gloved fingers tap absently at your waist, basking in your awe over what is, to him, a wholly unremarkable feat. The sheer normalcy of you makes his every move seem a marvel. He savors your wonder. You're so enamored with the novelty of it, you remember belatedly why you're up here. Clearing your throat, you reach up with the duster, and gently spin the fan, collecting the strands of dust and the like that had gathered on each one. You try your damnedest to focus on that, and not the fact Homelander's face is less than a foot from yours. Out of your peripheral, you can see that his grin has softened into a content, absent smile. Your stomach does cartwheels as you finish dusting the fan, bringing the duster back down. You clear your throat again, pretending it's not a nervous habit. "All done, thank you," you say quietly, smiling back at him.

"Any time, sweetheart," Homelander purrs. There it is again, that coy little nickname that sends your mind into a tizzy. As if that weren't bad enough, he winks at you, floating gently back down to the ground. Your legs feel so much like jelly, you worry you'll collapse the moment you're on your feet. Luckily, even once he's set you down, he leaves a hand lingering on your back. "You got a thing with heights? Your heart's pounding," he points out, much to your mortification. You try to laugh it off. "Oh, no! No, just wasn't expecting it. I'm fine with heights," you say, fumbling with the duster for a second before slipping it back into the cover. "Good," Homelander responds, an oddly cryptic depth to his tone. His smile lingers. "That's good. Alrighty, I'll leave you to it," he says, tipping his head in a polite little nod before he heads for the door, leaving you to your own devices, and the rapid fluttering in your stomach. Later that same day, you're thoroughly perplexed when you spot the step ladder exactly where it's supposed to be, certain you had checked there a dozen times over.

Two weeks from the day you first shared a meal, he presents you with a gift after dinner. "Oh, sir, you shouldn't-" "Please, please! Don't be so formal. It's just a little thing," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "Y'know, to show my appreciation. You take such good care of me. Just wanted to return the favor." Butterflies swarm rampant in your gut as you tug loose the pretty red ribbon tied around the box. Uncertain of what to expect, you feel a measure of relief when you lift the lid, and see a lovely apron folded inside it. "You wear this print a lot, figured you could use something, you know, matchy. Feminine," he says, gesturing vaguely with his hand. "Your other one's seen better days."

You exhale a soft laugh, touching the fabric. It's soft beneath your fingers, and of excellent quality. The gift is a thoughtful one, and it feels appropriate, despite what the expensive looking wrapping made you think. "You like it?" He asks after a beat, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I do! Yes, thank you. It's very nice. I've enjoyed working for you, sir—" You stop when he points a finger at you, his brows raised, and you correct, "—Homelander." He smiles, dropping his hand. "And eating with you. I can't say any of my other clients cared whether or not I ate," you say, chuckling. You think you see his nose twitch strangely at the mention of your other clients.

"Right, well! C'mon, let's see how it looks," he says, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you over to the mirror near the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. Homelander takes the box from your hands and presents it to you, allowing you to lift the apron up and let it unfold. Odd, it feels a touch heavier than you expected. You sling it around your neck, but before you can reach back to tie it, Homelander has taken it upon himself to do it for you. He cinches it at your waist with a sharp little tug, grinning at you from over your shoulder as he meets your eye in the mirror. "Loooook at that, perfect fit," he purrs, tying the ends off. "It's beautiful, thank y—" Smoothing your hands down the front of it, you stop. There's something in the right pocket of the apron. Glancing up, Homelander has a mischievous glint to his expression, but his brows raise, and his lips curl down. He's playing dumb.

Curiously, you slip your hand into the pocket, and feel smooth velvet against your fingers. Wrapping your hand around a firm rectangle, you draw it out, and feel your stomach flip as you stare at the distinctly luxurious looking black box now in your hands. "Oh, geeze, totally forgot that was even in there," Homelander says. His tone is terribly unconvincing, but he does sound very pleased with himself. "Whelp, you've already accepted, so I guess it's yours now." "I—" "Go on," he urges, giving your shoulders a little shake. He's watching you eagerly through the mirror. "Open it up. It's all yours."

Swallowing, you crack the box back on it's hinges. Your jaw drops, your chest tightens. You stare at the shimmering three-stone drop diamond necklace in utter disbelief. You don't even feel Homelander let go of your shoulders, or hear him slide off and drop his gloves to the nearby table. "Oh my god," you whisper. You probably couldn't afford the box this thing was sold in, let alone a single stone on it. "I don't think I can accept this, sir," you say, slipping back into the habit of formality as your brain struggles to catch up to reality.

"Oop, too late for that," Homelander dismisses, plucking the delicate necklace up from the fabric it lay in. "Here, allow me," he says, ignoring your shellshock while he drapes the necklace against your skin, his bare fingers brushing the back of your neck as he gets it fastened.

Breathless, you tentatively touch the bottom diamond. Your mouth feels full of cotton, and your heart is racing. Is this really happening?

Meanwhile, Homelander grips your upper arms, beaming. "Look at you. You know what they say about diamonds; they're a girl's best friend," he laughs, those canines of his looking sharper than ever.

Giving your arms a squeeze, Homelander leans close to your ear. "Happy two weeks," he whispers, the heat of his breath on your neck prickling goosebumps all the way down your spine. "Thank you," you whisper back, pushing out a bewildered little smile.

Homelander lingers there a moment, the warmth of his hands on your arms seeping through the fabric of your shirt. His smile has relaxed some, and his gaze is slightly distant as he looks you up and down in the mirror. You see a flash of pink as he wets his bottom lip with his tongue. It isn't until you clear your throat that his eyes snap back up to yours, regaining presence of mind. "I should get going," you say gently. His fingers flex on your arms, and the corners of his mouth twitch. "Right," he says, lips pulling into a thin smile that doesn't reach his eyes. This is always his least favorite part of the night. With obvious reluctance, he drops his hands from your arms. "Right, ah, let me—" "Unless..." You interject, turning to face him. Homelander's brows shoot up to his hairline. He blinks. "Unless...?" "Unless you'd like me to stay," you say quietly, your stomach tying itself in knots. "Not as your housekeeper, but maybe as just... Company?"

"Company," he echoes, his parted lips slowly drawing into a smile. This one does reach his eyes. "We could watch a movie."

"I like movies," you say. The words sound dumb to you as soon as they leave your lips, but Homelander looks at you like you've just spun a beautiful sonnet. "Great, I have movies," he says, putting a hand on your lower back as he gestures you to the living room. His smile is broad now, eager and a touch boyish. You feel a little surge of endearment amidst the adrenaline. "What do you want to watch?" "Dealers choice," you say, slipping out of the apron before you take a seat at the couch. Homelander immediately busies himself with the television, flipping through Vought+'s enormous repertoire.

Still in a mild daze, you don't process any of the titles that fly by on the screen. Instead, you're hyper aware of the weight of the necklace hanging from your throat, and the lingering heat that Homelander's hands left on your skin.

So much for a simple gig.

#i was absolutely POSSESSED by the spirit of this ask lmao #homelander x you #homelander x reader #darling anon #ask and you shall receive #fluff #my writing #i blacked out and posted this immediately #so im sorry if it’s a mess I will fix it in the morning lmao

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billthedrake · 1 month

Text

SUGAR DADDY (PART TWO)

The next day I was a little bit of a wreck. Still coming down from the high of my fantasy time with Mike Keenan. Sucking his cock. Kissing him. Enjoying the privacy and the deep conversation. I thought of texting him but decided that wouldn't be welcome. It hadn't been a date, it had ust been something that had happened. A combination of Mike taking pity on me and wanting to get his rocks off. We both got something out of it, but it was surely a one-time thing.

I had class that next morning and baseball practice that afternoon, then weightlifting. It was early evening when I got done and saw I had a text from Mike.

"Hi Luke, sorry no contact, I had a long day here. Enjoyed last night. Any chance for a repeat some time?"

My heart pounded. Maybe I was the one overthinking things. Mr. Keenan just wanted his cock sucked again.

"I'd love that," I wrote.

"Nice," came the reply. "You around to talk?"

I said good night to my buddies and told them I had to get back to study for a test. Then I texted a "yes" to Mike. A second later my phone rang.

"Hey," I said. God, I was majorly crushed out on the guy.

"Hey Luke," he said. His voice was sexy as fuck. "What are you up to?"

"Just getting out of practice. Bout to grab some dinner."

"I haven't eaten either. Want to come over? We can get dinner in the hotel bar."

"I probably need to change," I said. I was still in my workout clothes.

"I bet you look sexy as fuck," he growled. It was a trip to hear him lust for another man. "But take your time."

"Yeah, I probably shouldn't go to some fancy bar in my gym clothes."

"They don't give a fuck," he said. "But do what you feel comfortable with."

"All right," I said. "I'll text you when I'm on my way."

"Take an Uber," he said. "I'll pay."

"OK." Then I hung up. I was going to object, but I was eager to see the man. And truth be told I was hungry, real hungry. Maybe that's what made me decided to head right over, underdressed as I was.

"OK, I'm getting in my Uber," I typed to him five minutes later.

He sent a smiley face reply.

The man was in his suit, without tie, on one of the bar stools and his eyes lit up as I walked in. He had a smirk as I set down my backpack and pulled out the adjacent stool to sit. "I was right," he said softly. "Sexy as fuck."

I blushed. "I didn't think you went for guys that way," I whispered.

His blue eyes twinkled some as he patted my back. "No labels, remember?"

I was getting hard in my shorts. Unfortunately the thin fabric wasn't going to hide my boner, but fortunately, it was hidden by the bar. And my hunger was going to win out.

"The steak here is great," the man said as he handed me a menu.

"I dunno," I said as I looked over the option. "A burger is fine." Of course I was concerned about the price.

Mr. K could read me, though. "Get the steak," he grunted.

I felt a little chastised and said something I instantly regretted. "Is that how the Sugar Daddy treatment works?"

Mike gave me a quick glance then replied without missing a beat. "Buddy, you don't eye me up like a cash machine like those girls do. You don't know how nice a change that is."

I blushed and I felt his hand pat my bare thigh.

"I like that I can be honest with you, Luke, for real." His bossy tone was gone, replaced with the old Mr. Keenan charm.

I gulped. "I like being honest with you, too," I said. Until Mr. Keenan re-entered my life six months prior, I hadn't realized how rare it was I could be honest about things. I gave him a smile and saw him smile in return.

"Since I'm being honest," I started, but just then the bartender came over to take our order.

"Two steaks," Mr. Keenan said, ordering for me. "And another scotch and..." he turned to me.

"An IPA?" I asked. The bartender nodded and named off some brewery. Sounded good. We watched as he poured our drinks in front of us and placed them on the bar before going off to ring up our order.

"So..." Mike picked up. "Since you're being honest..."

I lowered my voice. "It's like I said before. You don't need to pay for anything, Mike. Or be a sugar daddy or anything."

He grinned. "There's always trade offs," he said. "And maybe I enjoy the control."

"Control?" I asked dumbly.

"If you're paying, you get your say in a lot of things," he said. He paused and watched me blush. "You think less of me."

"Honesty, right? You don't know how crushed out I am on you."

He smiled. "I have an idea. It's flattering." He took a sip of his scotch and looked over at me like a wolf eyeing up his prey. "I'm hoping you stay over tonight."

I was in over my head. Emotionally, but also with a man like Keenan. Decisive. "If you want, I will," I said.

"Good," he said, satisfied.

***

Mike Keenan surprised me that evening. After we ate and he paid the check, we went up to our room. We showered together, making out, feeling each other up. I was surprised how much this straight man was into my very male body and my cock. Well, he was probably bi and in any case had his no-labels motto. I was gonna embrace it.

Particularly as we made out on the bed, me beneath his middle aged, fit hairy body. I'd eventually find a real boyfriend, I knew, but I also knew it was going to be hard for any man to live up to hot how Mr. K was. His cock felt hard and even bigger as we humped our bodies together and kissed.

"So, Luke... you up for me being inside you?"

I nodded, hungrily. "God yeah, Mr. Keenan."

He grinned. "You have much experience?" That concern coming in.

"A couple of guys, yeah," I said. Then with deep candor, I added, "I wish you'd taken my cherry, Mike."

His voice got husky. "I've done anal a couple of times. With an ex-girlfriend."

His words made me actually break out into goosebumps. For some reason the idea of Mr. K doing some woman in the backdoor seemed kinky as fuck. But also the way he unmistakeably was communicating that he knew how to fuck me. "You liked it, I bet," I said with a lusty smile.

He nodded and winked just as he leaned up and knelt on the bed. His hardon looked magnificent, the thickness perfectly framed by his hairy, DILF-y body. I decided then and there I'd have a hard time sleeping with a man under 40. "Oh, yeah, buddy," he said. Then my body shivered again as I watched the confidence with which he picked up the lube he'd set out next to the bed. As he returned his focus, I pulled back my legs and spread them some, letting his slick hand in to lube up my hole. "It's probably my favorite thing. Hard to talk a woman into it, though."

"I can imagine," I hissed, enjoying the cool contact of the lubed finger on my ring. "I bet that costs extra huh?" Maybe that sounded accusatory, but from my tone it was clear that it was a joke, and Mr. Keenan picked up on that.

He laughed. "I don't hire hookers, but don't think I haven't thought about it." His cock jerked, and I was relieved that being with a dude seemed to work for him as much as fucking a chick.

He pressed in and worked me open some. "That feel OK, buddy?"

I looked at him excitedly and nodded. I kept expecting resistance as the man fingered me but there was none. At all. "Feels amazing Mr. K." My longtime nickname for him just slipped off my tongue, but the man seemed excited to hear it. His cock actually jerked.

He now slipped in a third finger, twisting me open and working in and out. "You're ready," he said, though I knew there was a questioning behind his assured tone.

"Yes, sir," I hissed.

Mike was horny, too, I realized as he scooted in to place and nudged his meaty cock right into place. I don't know the approach he took with women, but he angled his finger to let his prick push in just as he withdrew his hand. Kind of a shoehorn move that slid his meaty cock right into me. Three solid inches inside me in one go.

"There ya go," he said with satisfaction. Then he moved forward, his hips driving more meat into me, as he leaned his upper body forward. I was getting well and truly penetrated.

The thing was, my insides were starting their natural resistance, my guts clenching down on the invader and trying to repel it. Mr. Keenan mistook my discomfort for a natural stimulation of an ass on his cock. "That's goddamn nice, buddy," he hissed and like that he was kissing me, hard and possessively.

I met his tongue as well as I could, but there was something that clicked in me. I was a dude, a masculine dude. I didn't like to think of myself as feminine, and I got offended by the way people would associate gay sex with being feminized. And yet, I was pinned down beneath Mike Keenan and all I could think was to compare myself to those college chicks Mike banged. My hole relaxed around him and I wrapped my legs around his waist. Not slutty or anything, but damn I needed and wanted a Mike Keenan fuck.

He must have sensed the change but in any case pulled back from the kiss. "I guess I didn't even ask about protection," he hissed, his hips slowly pumping me.

"This is perfect, Mr. K," I growled. His dick was rubbing right over my prostate, not punching the button, but playing it like a violin string. It was a surprisingly new sensation for me.

The man liked my answer. He pulled back, further back, and pushed all the way. Then again. Not rushing it, but definitely claiming me with this cock. All the while his blue eyes bore down on mine. "How do you normally like it, Luke?" he asked.

I racked my brain. It was actually hard to think with the man's cock pressing in and out. And I'd only had a few experiences bottoming. "Slow, I guess," I replied. But then as I felt up the man's naked torso and strong arms, I wanted more. "But this is weird to ask... but I'd like you to show me how I like it."

THAT turned Mike on like crazy. "Yeah?" His nostrils flared. "I can do that buddy."

He pulled back and I felt his prick punch into me. In retrospect it probably wasn't rough, but I'd never been fucked with that much force. Then another. Slow, steady, and hard.

The fact that it was Rich's dad doing this drove me wild. I looked up into his handsome face and imagined him rough fucking some sugar baby who'd have to work for her apartment money.

"Shit!" I gasped. My prick was dripping already, a telltale sign that I was about to cum. I gripped it, just in time to let the pleasure boil to a full orgasm, all while Mr. Keenan pounded it out of me.

His own face was scrunching into a clear sign of pleasure. The man was ejaculating into my guts, and good.

"Well, fuck me," he sighed as he lay his forehead against mine. We lay like that, my hands on him and my legs wrapped around him. His more mature, fit body resting on top of me as he caught his breath. "Please tell me you liked that buddy," he hissed.

I felt weirdly emotional. I don't know, it wasn't just the crush I had on Mr. K. It was the hormonal rush on top of the mind fuck of having had such hot sex. "A little too much," I admitted.

That made him smile.

He finally leaned up and slid out of me, and off me. His dick was thick and plump but softening, and very wet. He looked down on me with a mix of surprise, paternal-like affection, and pride in conquest. I loved it all, and it was then that I realized I was hooked on the Mike Keenan experience.

"I thought I was pushing my luck asking you to meet me again," he said as he stepped off the bed and down some water from a water bottle. His middle-aged muscle was covered in a sheen of sweat. The man was sexy as fuck. His eyes barely left my nakedness. "But I guess not," he continued.

I felt all sorts of weird, and more than a little cheap now that the endorphins were wearing off. I sat up in bed, my hole feeling used and wet now. "You really do like being on control, don't you, Mike?"

My words caught him by surprise. "I guess I come on strong, huh?"

"A little," I admitted. "I should probably go," I said as I searched for my briefs.

"Will it make you feel better to stay over?" he asked.

It was my turn to be surprised. "You think I'm like a chick?" I asked. I wasn't sure I was upset he was stereotyping me as a gay guy. Or upset because maybe he was right.

"It's just a question, Luke," he replied. "I'll give you Uber money."

I swallowed my pride. "I'd love to stay. Sorry I was giving you grief."

He smiled. "It's fine buddy. I'm used to game playing. But you're a straight shooter. I like that." Then matter of factly, he added, "I get up early."

"That's cool," I said.

****

I gave Mr. K a blowjob early the next morning. And he stroked me off. I guess I was leaning toward being a bottom before Mike Keenan, but I'd never embraced the label. What the fuck, the man was making me realize the shoe fit.

I was happy and content all day. I kind of wanted a text from Mr. K, but I didn't need one. Even being young and naive, I knew I had to take this for what it was, or not at all.

Around 5:30 I got a text. "Dinner?"

I had a late game and plans with my buddies. "I'm tied up, Mike," I wrote. "Sorry."

"What time you done?" came that reply.

"I don't know. 10?"

"Come over then. You know the room number."

Maybe it should have rubbed me the wrong way, but it didn't. I was horny for this man. So bad.

Only after I replied with an OK, I got a Venmo alert. Mr. K had sent me money. Not an exhorbitant amount. But a lot.

Oh shit.

***

I was nervous as Mike ushered me in. The worst part was how fucking handsome he looked, even in his readers and plush hotel bathrobe. He didn't look exactly sleepy, but he seemed in a relaxed, tired state as he looked me up and down.

"Thanks for coming, Luke," he said. That easygoing charm I remember from going over to his place when I was visiting my buddy Rich.

"Sure," I said. Looking around, I wondered what it was like to live in a hotel like this a few nights a week, always being on the road. I smelled Mr. Keenan's cologne before I felt his hand on my shoulder and his warm body press against my back. Already he was kissing softly at my neck.

"Listen, Mr. K... can we talk about the money thing?"

His voice had a throaty growl. Maybe he'd been thinking all evening, all day about sex, because he seemed to be in a horny mode. "Sure. Was it not enough?"

"No, Jesus," I hissed, feeling his fingers already running beneath the hem of my T-shirt tracking my abs. "I don't need anything. For real."

OK, now his fingers stopped their seductive movement. I guess the man was getting it. "You offended?" he asked.

I blushed. "I dunno," I replied. "It didn't make me feel great."

I felt his breath against my neck. "You deserve the money more than Kimberly," he said. "Or the others. It's just a little something, Luke. Use it to have fun. Or save it for a rainy day."

I don't know how Mike Keenan was so persuasive a man, but he was. Maybe because those fingers are once again tracing up my abs and pulling my shirt with them. "Come on, buddy, let me see that hot baseball jock body," he urged.

I went with it. I knew I was good looking, and even if I had some bulking goals for the off season, I knew I had a solid body. But the fact Mr. Keenan was into it had me so turned on. I turned around to see a smile on his five-o-clock-shadowed face.

"Nice," he said, eyes sweeping up and down my build. "Lose the shorts, Luke," he said.

Mr. K had talked about enjoying being in control. I was now wrestling with the fact that I enjoyed being bossed around, at least by this man. I stepped back and undid my shorts, stripping down completely for him. I was rock hard.

My heart pounded as I watched Mike get a more serious look on his face, as his hands reached down to undo the tie on the robe. The white terry cloth flapped open to show off his furry fit torso and, beneath that, his thick boner. "Come on buddy," he said in a deep whisper, nodding down at his crotch in an unmistakable signal.

I gulped. I assumed my normal catcher's squat, a position which made my hard dick stick up at an angle.

"Fuck yeah," Mike said. He scooted up to offer me his prick. It was fat and veiny, and while not porn-long that dick was pretty damn big.

I leaned forward just an inch to start licking him. Top to bottom. Along his furry nuts. Tasting every inch of Mike Keenan. Maybe his relaxed vibe gave me the implicit permission to take my time.

Only by the time I actually began sucking him, working my mouth up and down on him and doing my best to coordinate suction and tongue along his shaft, the man was starting to get worked up.

"Easy there, buddy," he hissed, gently pushing me off his dick, which throbbed and jerked a little, wet with my saliva. "I almost blew there."

I grinned. I felt so fucking proud. I didn't have a ton of sexual experience and it was good to know I was doing something right to get Mike so close so soon. "Why don't you?" I asked, sitting back on my haunches and looking up at him. I was getting more confident in having sex with this older man.

He let out a heavy sigh, like he was fighting off the urge to do just that. A smile crossed his lips, though. "Guess I'm like a kid with a new toy," he explained.

It took me a second to get it. "You wanna fuck me again." Half statement, half question.

Mike nodded. "Been thinking about it all fucking day, man. Your ass is so fucking tight."

I knew this was a possibility, and I wondered if I should be giving my hole some rest. But I also knew it was going to be hard to turn down a Mr. Keenan fuck. I stood up, my dick riding that crest between pure excited hardness and nervous flagging.

"Ok if we kiss a little, Mike?" I asked feeling almost embarrassed to ask. "You know, make out a little?"

My buddy's dad nodded and grinned as he stepped up to me, placing his hands on my waist. "I guess I can come on strong, huh?" he asked.

God, feeling his dick press against mine and the heat and the soft-hard combo of fur and muscle against me was going to drive me wild. "Some, yeah," I admitted with a laugh. Then blushing, I added, "Part of me really likes it, but fuck it's intimidating too, you know?"

Mike didn't reply but just gave a sympathetic nod and leaned in for a soft kiss. We made out some, and it was incredible to feel the contrast between the gentle approach kissing and the mauling of his hands on my jock body, particularly my butt. Mr. K wasn't kidding about having a new toy. He seemed to really love my ass.

He walked me back to the bed and I went back down on the mattress with a motion of his that was between guiding and pushing. He quickly lost his bathrobe and joined me, covering my body with his older, more experienced one, feeling me up and kissing along my neck, my ear, my upper chest. Mike was in full-on horny mode and bring me there right with him.

Finally he lifted off and rolled to the side. His erection was dripping and rock hard and looked amazing against all that body hair. "All right buddy, get on all fours."

I was primed for Mike Keenan in full on control mode. I scrambled to do as the man asked, facing the headboard and feeling the man settle in behind me. Already his hands were cupping my glutes and feeling the smooth muscle.

"You got a hot fucking ass, Luke," he growled. He pawed at me another few seconds then reached for some lube. The first wet finger felt great, and went in pretty easy.

"You're looser today, buddy," Mike hissed. A second finger popped in.

"Yeah, probably," I responded. "After yesterday."

"I wanna keep you this way," came his deep voice. "Ready for me."

"Oh fuck, Mr. K," I whined. There was an edge to his tone that drove me wild. And as his prick pushed in, I felt a welcome pleasure, even with my residual tightness.

"Fuck yeah," Mike grunted as he felt my insides and pushed to bottom out. "Right back in the saddle."

His grip clenched roughly on my waist. Just as quickly as that thick cock pulled out, it barreled back in. And again. One hard thrust right after the other as Mr. K grunted deeply. "Ung. Ungh. Ung."

The man was fucking for his pleasure, not mine. Still I felt an excited thrill. I wouldn't say I enjoyed this nearly as much as the missionary mating the night before but it felt new to me. Animalistic and raw. I was hard even with the discomfort of the shafting.

Wham. Wham. Wham. That thick piece of hard dad meat was drilling steadily. Then the cadence went off. Mr. Keenan's rhythm was getting more spasmodic and jerky as he pounded me. Then I felt those fingers dig into my hips.

"FUCK!"

From his cry and the sudden stop of his thrusts, I knew the man was seeding me.

I loved every part of the experience, but I now regretted that I hadn't gotten off. The fuck had been too hard and too quick.

Thankfully I felt the man shift behind me and, prick still buried inside me, he leaned forward to press against, my back.

I loved the feeling of his kiss on my neck, but even more I loved the slickness of his palm as he wrapped his hand around my hardon. Mike didn't even need to do much. Just give slow soft pumps in and out of my guts while his fingers ran along my dick. I fired off, heavy and hard. I felt lightheaded when I came.

We were quiet as we uncoupled. The shame was coming back to me as I showered off. Shame that I enjoyed what others might see as a dominant, selfish fuck. Shame that there were funds in my Venmo account. Shame that I was falling for Mr. Keenan so hard. I knew I couldn't stay over in this hotel room, not tonight. I needed some space to think.

Mike had his robe back on. To this day a white terry bathrobe is a fetish for me. His tone was more serious. "You mad at me Luke?" he asked as he sat in the hotel chair and watched me get dressed.

I grimaced but shook my head no. "I didn't think I'd like sex that rough," I said softly.

I could see a sly grin from on his lips. But he continued. "I wasn't talking about the fuck."

God, the man could be intense, behind the suave businessman outgoingness and the friendly paternal vibe. It was like I was seeing the real Mr. Keenan. Intimidating, sure, but I also wondered if he had a hard time with real relationships. His marriage hadn't worked out, he was clearly estranged from his son, and he basically hired dates instead of having real girlfriends.

I paused, just holding the T shirt I was going to put back on. "Can I be blunt, Mr. K? You say you don't want a hooker, and yet have a way of treating me like one."

He was prepared for that. "You're not that, Luke. But I'm not ready for anything serious. I figure I can help you out, and you can help me out." He looked at me and could tell I still didn't get it. "Listen, it's not just sex. I love spending time with you buddy. You're a hell of a lot more fun than those sugar babies, I'll tell ya." He cracked a smile, and I had to as well.

"I guess," I said. Remembering Kimberly, I could imagine she'd be more work than fun.

My conciliatory tone made him happy, and I was glad to see the friendly Mr. Keenan return. "Well, it's just I don't always have the time or interest for all the other boyfriend bullshit. Checking in, looking after emotional needs, dealing with jealousy."

I gulped. I was starting to get a better picture of Mike. The side Rich hated. The side I should hate more.

He watched my reaction but continued. "I know that wouldn't be fun for you to deal with, so I want to make it worth your while."

"Make what worth my while?" I asked. Again, as persuasive as he was, I felt he kept talking around the sex part.

He laughed, almost amused at how astute I was. "Luke, I'm not going to pay you per sex act. Or per night. But..." his voice got conspiratorial. I wondered if he knew what that supportive dad-figure tone did for me, and just weaponized it to get his way. Honestly I think it just came naturally to him. "Well, bud, I'd love an arrangement when you're able to keep me company when I'm in DC." His blue eyes got an impish cast to them, and I knew he was in seal-the-deal mode. "I'm pretty sure we could have a lot of fun together."

"You wanna be my sugar daddy?" I asked, point blank. It's not that I was dumb, but I actually didn't think Mr. Keenan was outright going there.

He nodded. But his face had a caution to it. "Would it better if we ditched the labels?" he asked, a smirk on his face reminding me of his own no-labels policy.

"It would," I answered. Then. "OK if I think on it, Mike?"

"Of course," he said.

He stood up as I finished putting on my shoes. Seeing how handsome he was I almost asked if I could stay over again. But the vibe wasn't right for that.

As I made my way to the room door, Mr. K patted my shoulder. "You're a fine young man, Luke," he said. His fingers gave my muscle a little squeeze before letting go. "I mean that."

"Thanks, Mr. Keenan," I said.

***

The Uber ride was quick at that time of night. I'd have to come up with an excuse to my roommate while I was out again. I'd probably have to come up with a lot more excuses if I hung out more with Mr. K. Or, if he got me my own apartment, things would be easier. Meeting up with him. Having sex with him.

I pulled out my phone. I thought I'd hesitate before sending but I knew I knew my answer.

"You'll have to let me know how it works Mr. K," I texted. "But I'm in."

No labels. But if Mike Keenan was going to call himself my sugar daddy that was probably OK too.

I got a quick reply. "That makes me happy Luke. Talk tomorrow sexy."

I felt warm inside. Mike Keenan was going to make this worth my while. But I was determined to make it worth his, too.

#drakestories

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adaelines · 11 months

Text

price relationship hcs!

sorry for nothing longer, I've felt bad pain wise lately but I replayed mw on veteran and still spent the entire time staring at him ♡

warnings: gn reader, smut below the warning, price adores you so much!!!, he calls you a bitch but its during sex and affectionate, brat tamer price, spanking, collaring

-first proper date, following most likely months of flirting whenever possible and the biggest crush known to man, would be at the local pub. some place you can both call yourselves regular at in the near future, that he hopes you can have regular date nights at when hes home with you, with a pint of whatever on draft and a selection of pub classics. steak and ale pie, fish and chips, lasagne… he doesn't care what you order, he wants you to enjoy yourself and happily pays for it all

-he's a heater. whether it's at home cuddled in bed, on the sofa whilst you watch TV together, or anything that required close proximity, this man is so warm it practically radiates off of him. means he gives the absolute best hugs, usually reserved only for you, and is the absolute best to share a bed with at night. sleeping with this man is so comfortable, always at least one arm wrapped around you tight, he loves to be as close as physically possible

-LOVES anything domestic with you. could be standing next to each other in the bathroom, brushing your teeth whilst he takes care of his beard, showering together with nothing sexual, just intimate time together. it's his absolute favourite, nothing means more to him than being able to do this sort of stuff with you! learns your routine pretty quick and is over the moon when you start doing yours with him! spends a fair amount on his beard oils, it reminds him of home after having no time to take care of himself past the basics on deployment, will happily buy you expensive self care items too! swears he's not a sugar daddy, just loves spoiling you!

-the BEST gossip partner. not just gossip, he'll listen to you talk about your day for hours, sit next to him and let him braid your hair, or simply play with it if it's short, and tell him everything. he'll respond with little hums, "'s that so, love?", or laugh along. but he is listening, asks questions regularly, he's just quiet because he loves memorising your voice for when he's away

-has a locket with a picture of you that he wears all the time, especially when he's on duty. he's careful, wouldn't want it getting into the wrong hands, but knowing he has something of you, has your photo with him, gets him through the hardest of missions. spends nights looking at it, reminds him that beneath everything he's human with someone waiting for him at home, that he needs to get back to you. it's always beneath clothing, most don't even know it exists, but it's the most important thing to him whilst he's away

NSFW BELOW

-god. this man. the biggest brat tamer ever. when you get together, after a while of being comfortable and knowing that you're okay with it, sets out rules to follow and any boundaries, anything that's okay or not. stuff like not touching yourself without his permission, always telling him when you're needy, telling him what you're feeling at all times, and always listening to what he tells you. despite all the rules, you're always most important!

-if you're into it, will get you a necklace to wear at all times, like a collar. a pretty simple thing, in silver or gold, that's discreet enough that others wouldn't recognise what it really is. you're expected to wear it all the time, but it's a pretty little chain that means so much you really wouldn't want to take it off anyway.

-he wears a few rings, all simple gold thick bands that look incredible on his hands. loves when you suck on his fingers and pay special attention to them, wrap your lips around him and trail your tongue over the cold band, it'll send him over the edge. loves when they leave marks on you, especially when spanking you.

-speaking of spanking, he absolutely loves it! you're being extra bratty, talking back and moving away from him? you're gonna end up bent over his knee. always listens, knows when to stop, but he's gonna push you to your limit, he's gonna spank you till you cry, till you're sobbing out apologies and promises to be good for him. it's gonna be hard to sit after, the way you're bruised, and his pretty rings are gonna leave welts, deeper marks that'll stay longer.

"this is what you wanted, right? acting like such a brat, lay there and take it."

"pretty little thing… be good, won't you? stop actin' like such a bitch and ill stop treating you like one, sweetheart."

"you always look so good like this. is this why you do it? you like being marked as mine? you can just ask, love, don't have to act out all the time…"

-despite how mean he can be, how brutal, he's very very kind after. praises you for taking it so well, gives you so many kisses, rubs soothing gel anywhere he hit. brushes your hair and runs you a bath. if you're up to it, will go down on you and worship you until it's too much, he adores you and it shows.

-is VERY in tune with what you want and need. rough and brutal, hips slamming into yours, holding you down with one hand whilst the other is in your hair, roughly grabbing it? done. gently holding you close to him, whispering how perfect you are, fingers gently rubbing you, kissing your cheek and neck and absolutely spoiling you? done. he always knows what to do, pays close attention to every tell you have, he knows when to hold you tight or when to hold you down.

-the best at aftercare. does anything you need without complaint, will gently clean you up and hold you so close. he loves you more than life itself, you mean more to him than anything, he can get mean during sex but never means it, you're everything to him.

#spicy #call of duty #call of duty x reader #call of duty smut #cod #cod x reader #cod smut #captain price x reader #captain price smut #price x reader #price smut #john price x reader #john price smut

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indouloureux · 2 years

Note

picturing a costar!reader where they are in an interview and joseph and reader keep flirting with each other during like a superlative game or something and it’s just super cute 😭😭😭

im not kidding you i had to write this three times because it wouldn't go into my drafts and i'm sorry if it sucks BECAUSE IT GOT LOST THREE TIMES 😭

there's a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looks at you through his thick eyelashes, fingers flicking the white card that bears questions that are exposing. the white lights are blinding, bright and hot as it puts you both into the spotlight of the audience behind the cameras and soon — millions of people.

"who was the last person you texted?" he asks you, words coming from the printed text of the card.

"your mom."

"what'd she say?"

"she sent me a pic of you in diapers."

"at what age?"

"at what age?" you repeat, incredulous with a small laugh. "are you telling me you wore diapers 'till you were six?"

a heat rises to his cheeks and render itself pink as joseph realizes he's pushed himself into a hole. he looks away from you and reads the next question. "if you were to—"

"hey, shut up. it's my turn." you whack your card with his. "if you were to take me out on a date, where would it be and why?"

his hands are clasped beneath the card, sitting between his legs as he sways in his chair. the question is suspiciously revealing, bearing what's teasing intention into forcing you to answer questions that oppose secrets and privacy. joseph clears his throat. "um, the movies."

"what movie?"

"whatever that's there."

"why?"

"because movies are romantic."

"what if we were watching something really sad like hereditary?"

"you're ruining the mood," he wrinkles his nose, narrowing his eyes at you. "i'm saying i'm trying to take you out on a date to the movies and you're asking me why?" you laugh. "just go on a damn date with me!"

he wishes desperately he would've have said it non jokingly.

"okay, my turn," he taps his nails on the card, making weird incoherent noises with his mouth before he reads the question you disrupted him from earlier. "if you were to cook something for me, what would it be and why?"

the imagination of you cooking for him sends a twinge of pink to his cheeks and face; feeling domesticity in the visualization. "probably steak," you tell him, swaying in your seat with your feet dangling. "coz i'm a really good cook when it comes to steak."

"i'll be the judge of that, darling,"

a warm shiver up your spine at the sobriquet. "um, if you were to listen to a song, what song would it be?"

joseph's breath hitches. out of all questions, really, this one was what he hoped he would never get. he could easily lie, however, you'd found a bluff in him when he lies so there's no point in swiveling to another corner.

"dance the night away by van halen."

"oh god," you cover your laugh with the card. "thought you were going to say up and down by venga boys and i was prepared to lunge at you."

he laughs, looking at the people behind the camera before he turns back to you. "'d you know that song?"

"a bit," you admit. "give me a lyric."

"um—...fooled me with her style and ease; and I feel her from across the room yes, it's love in the third degree,"

you pretend he doesn't mean anything by that song, exchange oblivious glances as you sway in your seats nervously. joseph laughs the awkward pain away, and you clear your throat as he reads the next question.

reblogs and feedback are appreciated <3

#joseph quinn blurb #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn fluff #joseph quinn fic #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn #blurb #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction

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thatsmzbitchtoyou · 17 days

Text

Marriage of Convenience Chapter 5 FINAL

Warnings: smut, slight physical violence

All during dinner, with scorched steak, overly creamy mashed potatoes and bruised pears, Bucky and Y/N were insatiable. Bucky kept a hand on her thigh at all times under the table, every once in a while his hand traveling up closer to in between her legs. Y/N would stand up and act like there wasn’t enough room to get out quickly, and would brush her breasts against his shoulder as she would get up and sit back down. When everything was cleared, cleaned, and everyone went back to their individual bunks in the back houses, Y/N went upstairs, buzzing with excitement and a little scared with anticipation.

When she reached the bedroom she took a deep breath and opened the door. At the end of the bed stood Bucky, shirtless, his underwear low on his hips, his hair wet from a quick wash.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted her as she stepped in and closed the door behind her.

“Hey, darlin’,” she said. He smirked at the pet name.

“Come here,” he instructed as he faced her. Y/N walked over to him, her hands clenching at her sides. “Just relax, Y/N,” he chuckled at the tense look on her face. His hands ran up her arms and massaged her shoulders. “If you’re still not sure we don’t have to.”

“No, no I want to,” Y/N said quickly. “I’m not sure…what to do now.”

“How about we start from where we left off earlier?” Bucky suggested, his fingers moving towards the buttons on her dress.

“Okay,” she whispered as she nodded. She watched him unbutton her dress all the way down until she could slip out of it. When she was in her undergarments she helped him unbutton and unstrap everything until she was naked in front of him. Bucky admired her, his eyes raking over every curve and dimple. His scrutiny made her shy and she started trying to cover herself.

“No, sweetheart,” he pushed her hands away from her chest. “You’re beautiful.”

He led her over to the bed and had her sit down on the edge. “I’m going to take these off, alright?” he asked, hooking his fingers under the top rim of his underwear. Y/N nodded. He stepped back a little and slipped them down his legs until he stood bare in front of her. Y/N stared at him wide eyed. Y/N had seen a few penises on accident before as some men were leaving a creek after a swim, and thought it an odd appendage. But those men didn’t compare to Bucky in size or length.

She didn’t know why but her mouth started watering and she wanted to touch it. “May I?” she asked, her hand slowly reaching forward.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, stepping back towards her until he was standing between her legs. She touched it with her finger first, running it up his length and down again, just getting used to the feel of it. She then wrapped her fingers around him, holding his cock gently in her hand, noting how small her hand looked compared to it. His cock started to harden then, jumping a little.

“Is that what happens when it’s ready?” Y/N asked innocently, looking up at him.

“Yes,” Bucky breathed. “It’s, uh, getting excited.”

Y/N giggled at that. Bucky covered her hand on his cock with his hand and started to make her move her hand, showing her what to do. “That’s what helps it get harder…ah,” he gasped as she gripped it a little harder. “Not too hard, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Is that all?”

“Well, it’s also nice when, uh, when it’s sucked on,” Bucky let go of her hand and let her keep tugging on him, her hand getting used to the movement.

“Suck on it? How do you even put your whole mouth on it?” she asked incredulously. Bucky’s smirk widened.

“You sure know how to make a guy feel special, sweetheart,” Bucky praised her. “You don’t have to, it’s just something that feels nice.”

Y/N took it as a challenge and leaned forward. She kissed the tip of it, making him gasp again. She opened her mouth and licked it from the tip to the base of it and back.

“Shit, sweetheart, that’s good,” Bucky’s eyes shut tight as he tried not to thrust.

Y/N opened her mouth wider until she could wrap her lips around the tip, then gave him a suck. Bucky’s knees almost buckled as he steadied himself with his hands on her shoulders. She gained confidence as she started moving back and forth with him in her mouth, sucking and licking his cock slowly, getting used to how it felt on her tongue.

“Fuck, that feels amazing,” Bucky moaned, his fingers now skimming along her jaw as she widened her mouth as much as she could, taking as much of him in her mouth until he hit the back of her throat. She gagged lightly, one hand now coming to grip his thigh, the other still moving along the part of his cock she couldn’t get in her mouth. “You’re a natural sweetheart, goddamn.”

Bucky involuntarily thrust into her mouth, making her jaw close. “Oooh, no teeth. I’m sorry, that was my fault,” he said as he gripped her jaw. “It just feels so good. You’re so good at this.” Y/N hummed at his praise, the vibrations on his cock making him shiver. “God, if you keep doing that I won’t last,” he muttered and then pulled himself slowly out of her mouth. Y/N’s eyes were a little teary from gagging, but she smiled up at him when he looked down at her.

“Fuck,” he whispered as he dipped down to kiss her. He helped her move up the bed until they were both on it comfortably. He settled between her legs as he started kissing and sucking on her breasts like he did earlier. While one of his hands was playing with one breast his other hand slipped down to her lower lips, searching for that special spot again. She was already wet, making Bucky groan as his fingers slipped until his middle finger found her clit, rubbing it in quick circles and then dipping that finger deep inside her. Y/N’s hips bucked against his hand as she broke the kiss.

“Oh god,” she sighed, her hands running down to his chest. She scratched her nails down until her fingers found his nipples and gave them small flicks like he’d done to hers.

“AH, shit, sweetheart,” Bucky’s hips trembled. “You ready to try?”

“Yes,” Y/N pleaded, the ache in her core to be filled by something getting worse by the minute.

“I’ll go slow,” Bucky promised as he positioned himself between her legs. He held his cock, giving himself a few pumps with his hand, before he lined himself up. He pushed forward just enough until the tip was pushing inside. Y/N tensed at the intrusion, which was much bigger than his fingers. “It’s okay, relax,” Bucky said as he stopped, letting her get used to the first bit. “Just breathe.” He kissed her again, distracting her from the pressure. He pushed about an inch further in, making Y/N grip his shoulders. “You okay?” he asked, watching her face as he pulled away from the kiss.

“Yeah,” Y/N sighed.

Bucky reached his hand back down between them and started rubbing her clit again. The distraction was enough for her to feel more pleasure rather than pain, and she squirmed as the tension deep within her started to build. As he flicked her clit he pushed further, getting closer to being fully seated. Right as she was beginning to reach her first orgasm he pushed all the way in, making her arch her back as her pussy fluttered around him.

“Ah! Shit! Fuck!” she cried as her fingers dug into his back as she came. Bucky willed himself not to cum, as good as it felt with her squeezing him.

“Doing so good, sweetheart, taking me so well,” Bucky praised her as she calmed down. “I’m going to start moving, okay?”

“Please,” Y/N moaned, the fullness making her lightheaded.

Bucky smiled and slowly pulled back, then watched her face as he thrust back in. Y/N’s mouth fell open in a silent moan, her hands slipping to grip his upper arms as her legs hooked themselves behind his back. The angle helped him slide a little deeper, making her whimper when he hit a certain spot.

Bucky kissed her again as he went a little faster, always checking to make sure Y/N wasn’t in pain. “You feel so good, sweetheart,” he kissed all over her face. “How do you feel?”

“So fuuulllllll…” Y/N whined. “Don’t stop.”

He felt her flutter around him again, making him drop his head to her shoulder. “Fuck, you about to cum again, Y/N? You like it when I’m so deep inside you like this?” He punctuated his words with a harder thrust.

“OH GOD, keep doing that,” Y/N cried, looking down to watch him pull in and out of her. She unhooked her legs so she could plant her feet down on the bed.

“Goddammit, yes ma’am,” Bucky smirked as he angled himself up a bit and then started pounding into her. The sound of their mingled breaths and moans and the skin slapping on skin filled the room. Bucky kissed, licked or sucked every inch of skin he could reach as he increased the pace. Y/N’s moans became higher and higher pitched as Bucky kept hitting that one spot deep inside.

“Buck…it’s happening again,” she gasped, her hands flying up to grip the pillows above her head. “I’m…gonna…”

“Go ahead, Y/N, I’m right there, right…there! Shit…I love you,” Bucky growled into her ear as he hooked one of her legs over his hip.

“Love…you…” she said, and then she screamed his name as she came again. This one was even bigger than before. Bucky felt like he was locked inside of her as she came, squeezing so hard like she was literally milking it out of him as he came with her. Her body shook and her legs stiffened as he filled her up, a string of expletives and praises falling from his lips as he kissed her again and again.

When Y/N felt like she came back to herself she opened her eyes and found Bucky already staring at her. He gave her a small smile and nuzzled her nose with his nose. “How did that feel, sweetheart?” he asked, a little mirth underlying the tone of his voice.

Y/N giggled. “Hm…I don’t know.” Bucky’s eyes narrowed at her. “I might have to try it again, see how I feel.”

Bucky scrunched his nose at her joke and thrust inside of her again. Her eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of him leaking out of her as he brushed against the deep spot inside her again. “That’s what I thought, you tease,” Bucky chuckled.

“It was amazing, Bucky. I get it now,” Y/N sighed.

Bucky huffed a laugh, kissing her cheeks and nose and then her mouth. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you, darlin’,” she whispered.

***

10 months later

“I got here as soon as I could,” Dr. Banner panted as he ran up towards the house.

“Hurry!” Steve pushed him through the door, directing him to the bedroom upstairs.

The men were all gathered in the main house, sitting or pacing around the front sitting room, waiting anxiously. Today was the day. Another loud scream shook the house, making Luis cry harder as Diego and Joaquin comforted him and continued praying.

Another hour went by when the screams died down. They all stood stock still, straining to hear anything. Then… “wwaahhh!” A baby cry. They all burst into tears, some of them whooping and singing a celebratory song, dancing around the furniture.

Y/N was exhausted, but it was finally over. At the foot of the bed stood Bucky, holding their newborn baby. Steve was at the head of the bed next to Y/N, brushing away the sweat on her face and congratulating her. Dr. Banner was still between her legs, cleaning up the afterbirth and making sure everything was safe and in order.

“What is it?” Y/N sighed, her tired eyes drooping as her body started to relax.

Bucky looked at her with wet eyes. He wasn’t one to cry normally, so it was a strange sight for her to see. He walked over to the opposite side of Steve and sat next to her on the bed. He leaned down and set the baby on Y/N’s chest.

“It’s a girl,” Bucky cried, adjusting the blanket around her as he smiled adoringly at his two girls.

“A girl,” Y/N breathed, gazing at the tiny being. She was pink and looked squished, and yet Y/N fell in love with her instantaneously.

“She’s beautiful,” Steve stared in wonderment at the baby. “Congratulations, you two.”

“Thank you,” Bucky smiled at his friend, squeezing Steve’s arm across the bed.

“What will we name her?” Bucky asked Y/N as he laid next to her while Dr. Banner started cleaning up his medicine bag.

“What do you think of Luisa?” Y/N asked, giving him a hopeful smile.

“That’s perfect,” Bucky agreed.

“Luisa…Juniper. Luisa Juniper Barnes?”

Bucky’s lips quivered as he watched his baby squirm in his wife’s arms. “Yes. My Luisa.”

A few hours later once everything and everyone was cleaned up Y/N came down the stairs with their baby in her arms and Bucky and Steve right behind her. All the men were still there, and upon seeing who came down all immediately stood up and watched her with wide smiles. “Mis amores (my loves), this is my daughter, Luisa Juniper Barnes.”

They all gasped at hearing her first name and looked at Luis, who had to sit down from being overcome with emotions. They each approached her and gave her hugs, kisses, and greeted the baby, congratulating her and Bucky. A little later she let Steve hold her, which reduced him to a cooing and crying mess. Y/N looked around at all the people in her life. Luis, Diego, Joaquin, Santiago, Emiliano, Jorge, Pedro, Oscar, Steve, Bucky, and now her little Luisa. She thanked whatever great spirit was out in the world that helped in joining her and Bucky together to create this beautiful life she lived.

**picture is from Pinterest, A.I. generated, so no known "artist" or "creator"**

@wintrsoldrluvr @vicmc624 @itvy5601 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73

I'm so glad so many of you liked this one! I'm just on a roll writing all the AUs and ideas that I've wanted to see written about Bucky. If any of you have requests or ideas, for Bucky or maybe some other characters, please let me know. The next one is a priest!Bucky fic and I'm excited for y'all to read it. Love you!!! <3

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #smut #cowboy!bucky barnes x reader #cowboy!bucky barnes #wild west #chapter 5 #final chapter

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avatar-saiki · 11 months

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What's Cookin' Good Lookin'

Mammon/Reader, 3.2k words

Summary: NSFW 18+

The scenario my thirsty ass came up with was Mammon takes you out on a fancy date to Ristorante Six and you suck his dick under the table.

That's it.

That's all this is <3

You couldn’t help smiling to yourself, looking in the mirror and checking your hair for the umpteenth time, making sure everything was in place. Ristorante Six might not normally be your style, but a date was a date and it’d been ages since you’d seen Mammon. And if he was going to treat you? The Avatar of Greed? Well, you’d be crazy not to take him up on it.

Especially after it’d been nearly three whole weeks of interruptions. Every time the two of you would finally seem to meet, a witch’s summons would pull him away. The timing was getting so suspicious, you’d almost been tempted enough to send Satan to investigate if they were trying to sabotage you on purpose.

Luckily, though, when your D.D.D. began to dance its happy little shuffle one afternoon you’d come to find he was finally free to be yours once more.

You turned your face side to side, eyes alight with delight. Your first date in nearly a month. Was it weird to be a little… excited? Nervous, even?

The butterflies in your stomach seemed keen on helping you find that answer. First they started to flutter when you stepped outside to find him leaning against the hood of his Demonio 666, then again when he flashed you that devilish grin and opened the car door. They really began to stir when his hand rested on your thigh so casually while he drove, stroking you with his thumb. Somehow they even seemed to make their way down your legs once you’d arrived, the valet happily helping you to your feet while Mammon waited to guide you inside.

Yeah.

This place was definitely not your usual style.

“You look good,” Mammon said after you took his elbow, eyes roaming over your figure with an appraising smile. “Clean up real nice.”

“Shush,” you muttered, embarrassed and maybe a little too grateful to have him for support. “You know fancy stuff makes me feel awkward.”

He laughed and led you through the doors, the host already prepared for his arrival and leading you to your table. Normally when you’d come here, you’d dine on the main floor, but this time the host led you upstairs. Here were a few of the more premium tables, complete with a complimentary bottle of Demonus and champagne imported from the human world. While the tables were few, the view was extravagant, allowing diners to admire the eerie glow of the Devildom’s moons in the star-spattered sky above through large windows set within the stone walls.

“O-Oh…” you breathed once you reached the top of the stairs. You’d brought your wallet just in case, not knowing just how much his jobs had drained him but… this… this looked like more than…

“Don’t worry,” he murmured, squeezing your hand before coaxing you to walk toward the table where the host waited to seat you. “I got it covered.”

“But—”

He squeezed your hand again, then left you to take his own seat while the host sat you down and pushed the chair in, then set a few menus on the table and offered to list the specials for the evening. He was patient, calm… cool and collected. You couldn’t help peeking at the menu while they rambled on about a dry-aged devilwood smoked steak and your heart sank.

There were no prices listed.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, and the host paused mid-ramble and glanced at you with a raised brow.

“O-Oh, sorry,” you mumbled, shutting the menu while Mammon chuckled from across the table. “Please continue.”

“Right…” He cleared his throat and puffed out his chest. “As I was saying, our last special is a pan-seared hellibut finished off with a Demonus reduction and served with a medley of seasonal vegetables from our garden.”

“Sounds great,” Mammon said, reaching for the bottle of Demonus, but the host stopped him and poured him a glass instead, then did the same for you with the champagne.

“I’ll give you two a moment to review the menu, your server should be by shortly,” he said, setting the bottle down and sliding both glasses to you and Mammon respectively. “Please let us know if you need anything else.”

Once he was halfway down the stairs, you leaned over the table to look at Mammon who was nonchalantly swirling the Demonus in his glass before taking a sip.

“Mammon,” you whispered, “this seems way fancier than usual.”

He chuckled and opened the menu, reading over the options. “Yeah, they really like to roll out the red carpet for the premium tables don’t they?”

You stared at him. “Mammon, there’s no way I can afford all this.”

He glanced up, golden blue eyes flashing with a hint of mischief. “I already told ya I got it covered, don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, but—” you fidgeted in your seat, then sighed. Worst case he might have to work off the bill with a few shifts, nothing out of the ordinary there. And... Well, knowing yourself well enough you’d be right there with him. At least that wouldn’t be so bad, he made anything fun.

But it was still daunting not even knowing just how much you were spending.

His smile was cute though… he seemed genuinely excited to spoil you tonight…

The menu had so many items that sounded luxurious, and you picked something that had mostly familiar sounding ingredients in it, things you’d seen added to foods Satan cooked at home, and Mammon added on an appetizer and winked at you, mentioning you may want dessert later too. The butterflies began to dance again, though their nervous song carried a different tune until the first dishes were brought out. Everything smelled so good, but tasted absolutely divine.

Mammon glanced up at you when you moaned in delight, the savory stuff devishrooms practically melting on your tongue.

“S’it good?” he asked with a smirk, and you covered your mouth to hide your chewing.

“Sh’o good,” you hummed, pleased.

He chuckled and popped one in his mouth, nodding in agreement before taking another sip of Demonus. “Told ya it’d be worth it.”

You rolled your eyes, “I never said it wouldn’t be, I’m just worried about the bill at the end.”

He laughed, “Y’know, normally I’m happy to let you cover the bill, but,” he winked, knowing you’d scoff, “sometimes I wanna treat ya.”

“It just seems… like a lot for a random date. It’s not like we’re celebrating anything.”

“No, but,” he shrugged, “why do we gotta have something to celebrate? Can’t I splurge a little now and then?”

“You can do whatever you want if you have the money for it,” you muttered, picking up the glass of champagne and he grinned, raising his own.

“Exactly~ so quit fussin’ and enjoy the night with me, would ya?”

You chewed your lip, then sighed and clinked your glass to his. “Fine, fuck it. Spoil me to your heart’s content, Mammon.”

He laughed and leaned back to finish his glass. “That’s my human~”

You blushed, maybe enjoying that a bit more than you’d care to admit.

Soon the appetizers were cleared away and the entrees were brought out, even more delicious the the plates before. Mammon was more than happy to keep the champagne flowing too, teasing you that the bottle was already paid for so you may as well help yourself.

And boy, did you help yourself.

A healthy buzz was a perfect compliment to such a meal, every bite a delectable treat. And the demon sat across from you…

Your fork clattered to the floor and you cursed, leaning over to pick it up.

“Language~” he teased, and you rolled your eyes, reaching for it but the stupid thing had fallen just out of your reach.

“Ugh, shut up,” you muttered, sliding off your seat to pick it up.

He laughed, “Y’know I’ve cursed people for less~ you’re lucky I put up with ya.”

Again you rolled your eyes, putting the fork on the table but still kneeling on the floor. The sudden movement made… the buzz feel a teeny bit more than you’d expected. Just a touch dizzy, but at least the floor wasn’t tilting.

“Oh yeah?” You tried to peek over the table at him, but couldn’t see much of his face so you lifted the table cloth to speak to his knees instead. “Is that a threat?”

“Nah…” He spread his legs, slouching back comfortably. “Just makin’ conversation.”

Cheeky.

You crawled under the table to pinch his ankle, making him jump in surprise.

“O-Oi! What’re you doin’?”

You grinned and crawled closer, untying one of his shoes. “Just messing with the Great Mammon. What’re you gonna do about it?”

“Quit it,” he said, nudging you with his foot. “An’ get up, would ya?”

You giggled under your breath, half tempted to try and tie his laces together but his feet were too far apart. Ah well, some minor mischief was better than none at all. You turned to crawl back out, but…

But it had been a while since you two had…

You bit your lip.

Tripping him wasn’t really your style.

But teasing him definitely was.

“I can’t,” you pouted, reaching for his leg and holding around his calf. “I think I’m lost.”

“Lost?” He shifted as if to look for you but the tablecloth hung too low. “Ya just went under the table. C’mon quit playin’ dumb.”

You giggled again and scooted closer, resting your chin on his knee. “Nope, can’t do it. Too dark down here.”

He wiggled his leg to shake you off. “You seem to be findin’ me just fine.”

Busted.

You hugged around his leg with one arm, and held his knee with your free hand. “Mm… nope. Can’t see. Just going by feeling~”

“Well then, just—”

He’d started to lift the cloth, but dropped it as your hand drifted up his leg, fingers gliding smoothly over the Devildom’s finest of silks.

“H-Hey, don’t… don’t do that…” He said, voice dropping ever so subtly.

Ah… right…

He was buzzed too.

“I missed you,” you whispered, stroking up and down his thigh while resting your cheek on his knee. “Did you miss me?”

His legs spread ever so slightly.

“You know I did.”

You smiled, turning your attentions more to his inner thigh, teasingly reaching up higher with every stroke. “Did you really?”

His free leg began to bounce just a little, and he fidgeted in his seat.

“C-Come outta there before someone sees you’re gone.”

“Mm… could say I went to the bathroom…” you nuzzled your cheek to his knee, letting your hand glide up further and massage a slow circle just shy of where you wanted to touch him most. “You know… I missed you too…”

He wheezed out a soft laugh, leg bouncing more and you could see the bulge beginning to form more prominently, tempting you…

“Y-Yeah?” he whispered, “How much?”

“So much,” you cooed, gliding your fingers across his lap, feeling for his length and oh how delightful to find it was starting to grow already.

He shifted to lean back again, his hand reaching down to catch yours. “Later,” he murmured. “We got all night.”

Normally you’d agree, but right now?

Right now you wanted to try something you’d never done before.

“Aw, but didn’t you say you wanted to spoil me?” you pouted, touching your palm to his cock and rubbing him through his pants. “Give me anything I want tonight?”

“Y-Yeah, but…” he groaned under his breath, “can’t ya wait? I already got us a room at—”

Your fingers hooked around his belt, deftly unbuckling it while you nuzzled higher up his thigh. “Can’t I have a little dessert now? Just a taste?”

This time he gave you a more pointed nudge, nearly knocking you off his leg.

“Later,” he said and you sighed, tugging at his zipper.

“I could be quick… well…” you grinned, slipping your hand into his pants to feel him. “I could finish you quick~”

He groaned under his breath, slouching further in his seat.

“All… All right, just… just don’t leave me hangin’”

A rush of thrill danced in your stomach, and you sidled closer, reaching up to tug at his boxers. “Really? Can I?”

“Y-yeah, just…” You could hear him pick up his fork again, presumably to act casual. “Just be quick.”

Delighted, you pulled his boxers down, gently freeing his cock and holding it in one hand. He was so warm, his length still a little soft but…

Thrill mixed with pride at how quickly that was changing under your touch.

“Mm~” you pressed your lips to the side, just below the head. “Thank you, Mammon~”

He groaned again, knife scraping against his plate. “Don’t tease,” he muttered under his breath.

As if you’d do anything else~

You kissed along his length, stroking him gently until he was fully erect, the warmth and feel of him pulsing against your lips making you ache with need. It’d been so long, too long… and his sweet hushed breaths from above when you nuzzled into him were absolute bliss~

“You… really like my c- mm~” He grunted, the table rattling when you pressed your tongue against him, slowly dragging it up his length and savoring the taste of his head.

“Mhm~” you hummed, suckling against his length again to tease him, stroking him steadily and swiping away pre-cum with your thumb. “I do~”

He groaned again, and shifted in his seat, leaning forward against the table.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered quietly and you chuckled.

“I haven’t even started yet~”

“Yeah, that’s why it’s— hhhhn—”

You licked up his length again, letting the head roll around your tongue while you sighed over him. So soft. You closed your eyes and cupped your lips around the head, suckling while rolling your tongue around, his unsteady breathing making your insides stir for more.

Perhaps he’d begun to influence you more than you’d realized.

With a smile at the thought, you began to take him in, breathing through your nose and lovingly following your hand as you swallowed him down. Just a little for now, enough to tease him with the promise of more, your tongue guiding him up to press along your palate. You paused, breathing in deeply through your nose while you relaxed your throat, preparing to take him deeper when—

He tensed abruptly, kicking you again.

“How is everything? Are you enjoying your meal?” The server asked, and you paused.

“It’s great,” he said, voice surprisingly calm. “Everything’s been great, thanks.”

“Happy to hear it, can I get you anything else? Would you be interested in a dessert menu?”

“Uh…” he paused to give it some thought, “No, I think we’re good.”

“Are you sure? Would you like me to come back when your date is here to confirm?”

“No, that’s alright. The bill would be great.”

You couldn’t help smiling around him. Switching from flustered to so calm just like that? Impressive~ no wonder he could charm his way around a poker table.

“All right, I’ll be back.” The sound of plates and silverware clinking sounded above, and you took the opportunity to swallow him down.

“Thank y- you,” he said with a grunt, subtly trying to kick you again while you chuckled around his cock.

The server must’ve left shortly after, because he reached down to grab the back of your head.

“You better finish now before the check comes.”

You smiled around him.

As if you needed a challenge.

Invigorated by the back note of neediness in his voice, you closed your eyes and focused on breathing deep through your nose, losing yourself to the rhythm of feeling him on your tongue. The low cusses that sounded above your head. The feel of him holding you close, gently pulling you in with every bob, almost tentatively so… as if he worried you might retreat if he pushed too much.

It was sweet… but…

He was forgetting just how much your ego came into play.

You cupped his balls and slowly lifted your head, holding just the tip in your mouth while you held him, lazily rolling him around your tongue with a thoughtful hum. He groaned above you, whispering under his breath.

“Please… if you keep teasing I… I don’t know if I’ll…”

You hummed again, answering him with a steady stroke. His fingers twitched against the back of your head, pushing you to take more of him in again.

Always so greedy~

Inhaling a deep breath through your nose, you kissed your lips to your fingers, using both to stroke his cock, working him up in a faster pace as you felt him harden even further in your care.

“Th… That’s it…” he whispered, using his hand to guide you even more, his hips twitching ever so slightly.

Such a shame he couldn’t move too much or it’d draw attention~

“O-Oh… fuck…” he groaned, pulling you in closer. “J-Just… faster. Go faster.”

You hummed softly, focusing on moving your hand instead, his cock so thick your jaw was beginning to get a little sore.

Just a little more~

His gentle pants were like music to your ears, stirring a lustful sense of pride in your heart that tickled all the way down to your belly.

“P-Please…” He whined, “Don’t… don’t stop…I—”

You pressed the flat of your tongue just below the head, moaning in bliss when the first taste of salt hit followed by a warmth that only filled you with that perverse sense of pride in knowing you were who swallowed him down. His thighs went tense, whines straggled in his throat as he made great effort to keep himself back.

Next time you’d just have to work a little harder to see him really lose control.

You lingered a moment longer, slowing your strokes and gently popping off with a satisfied sigh. “That was fun~” you murmured, giving him one last little kiss before helping him pull up his pants. “Thanks, Mammon~”

He reached down to zip up his pants and buckle his belt, muttering under his breath. “You’re lucky there ain’t anyone in the table closest to us right now… pretty sure at least someone’s onto us.”

You laughed softly, “Aw shoot~ and you tried so hard to be quiet.”

“Yeah, no thanks to you!”

You laughed again and lifted the tablecloth to peer up at him, face flush with a flustered grin on his face. “Am I really not even gonna get a thank you for that?”

His eyes flashed in gold, grin glinting with a greedy light that sent your heart soaring.

“Oh… you’ll get it,” he murmured, reaching down to cup your chin, his voice rolling in a low, husky tone.

“Just you wait, treasure.”

Whether it be demonic charms or the confidence that only the Avatar of Greed himself could exude, you couldn’t resist tilting your cheek into his palm, playing into that possessive love you adored so much.

“That a promise, love?”

Another flash of gold sparked in his eyes, and his thumb caressed your bottom lip.

“You know it is… you’ll be gettin’ everything you want tonight and more, until you can’t possibly want anything else.”

You bit the tip of his thumb with a coy smile.

“Sounds perfect~”

#obey me smut #obey me x reader #obey me mammon #reader insert #gender neutral reader #fanfic

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two-white-butterflies · 11 months

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you're losing me (four) | am. targaryen and j. velaryon

Description: The awkward family and friends dinner continue. Rhaenyra tries to prod deeper into your relationship with her brother. Rating: General Audiences Author's Note: I didn't expect this series to last longer than 3 installments. Might reach longer than 5 or 7, but I'll keep the chapters light. part three

Jace watches as the waiters began to serve their food. It was gourmet of course, prepared solely for the guests' enjoyment. You couldn't help but feel out of place - an imposter crawling into the inner circles of the upper echelon. "I'm vegan, I'm sorry - I can't eat this." you whisper, declining the wagyu steak in front of you. It looked delicious, but there was no way in hell that you were eating meat.

"Really? Aemond was the one who confirmed the meal samples?" Rhaenyra raised her voice, saddened since she was the one that planned the party. "Oh, he didn't know." you smile, and the waiter places the food back on the tray. "How long have you known each other?" Jace speaks, swirling the wine on his glass.

The first thing that couples do before knowing each other - is going on a date, and if you've been on a date with him countless of times - wouldn't Aemond know about your certain likes or dislikes?

"A year." Aemond answers, flashing you a sorry smile. " - and you can have my food, it doesn't have any meat." he smiles, quickly placing his plate on your table-mat. "Thank you." you mumble, and he motions for the waiter to bring the steak back and to give it to him.

Jacaerys' eyebrows raised in intrigue. A year and his uncle knew nothing about you. Aemond didn't know that your eyebrows bumped into each other when you were worried. He didn't know that your favorite game was Mario Kart even though you sucked at it. He was losing you to a man that hardly knew you - and he could do nothing but watch. "Where did you meet?" Lucerys pipes, realizing that drama was about to go down.

"At a hotel room garden," Aemond smiled - staring at you with stars in his eyes. He looked at you with all the warmth that he could muster. He was a magnetic force of a man. "I wanted to grab a picture for Helaena, but she grabbed my heart." he placed a hand on your chair, a coy smile on his face.

Alicent smiles at the both of you - a look of adoration on her face. Her son has fallen in love with a wonderful woman. "When are you getting married?" she inquired, joyous at the thought of grandbabies. "Soon, somewhere around May or August." you answered. You were staring deep into his eyes - convincing yourself that you were doing this to free yourself from debt, and that you weren't actually in love with Aemond Targaryen. "This year?" Jace choked.

"Of course, the good ones never wait." Aemond smirked.

Jace finally has you alone.

You were standing on the balcony - with another glass of wine on your hand. The dress that you were wearing was slightly wrinkled, the ring on your finger was beginning to slip. He knows that this is the only chance that he'll be given - and he's taking it.

"Are you sure?" he opened his mouth, leaning on the balcony rails. This wasn't how he imagined it to turn out - you were his sacred new beginning, his sweet nothing, but now - you were his hoax.

"Sure about what?" you asked with a hoarse voice.

What the fuck did you get into?

"My uncle." he responded plainly, looking for something hidden in your eyes. Was it too far gone to bring back to life? Did you win the battle but lose the war? "He's the only thing I'm sure of nowadays, Jace." you answer - he could hear a tinge of sadness in your voice. You were hiding something and it wasn't his place to ask any questions. He takes a deep breath.

His biggest regret - standing in front of him. "I'm sorry," he apologized - and your eyebrows merged into each other. "Sorry for what?" you asked, playing with the rim of the glass. "I'm sorry for chasing fame - when I should've been happy with what I had. In another life, maybe - I'll love you, and you'll still love me back." he chuckled, slowly walking out of the balcony - completely oblivious of the man leaning on the door and eavesdropping on your conversation.

scammerui streets are saying that aemond targaryen (new dad) and j*ce velaryon are related. 😄 Y/N is a family hopper? IDGAF I STILL SUPPORT HER #SueMe

arthurmenchie: If my bf was related to a hot/rich/tall specimen like aemond targaryen, i'd family hop too 😳 also @ynwebster confirm this boo. - ynwebster: (source, wikipedia but put into terms that we can understand) Aemond is J*ce's uncle, they're related through his mom (Rhaenyra Targaryen) xxx ynwebster OUT

Aemond smiled at you with a drunken stare. He was evidently tired from all of the mingling and talking, but he still managed to escort you into the safety of his car. There was silence between the both of you. None daring to move or make a sound. He slumps on the backseat. Popping a small mint into his mouth.

You help him unbutton his suit, freeing his chest from the tightness. His smile deepens - staring deep into your eyes. "You're my best friend." he states - slurring though his words due to the amount of wine that he consumed. Your eyes widen slowly. He was in love. The drunken smile continues to paint his mouth, until he falls asleep on the drive home.

(your first name): here's to forever and more.

89,123 comments 3,128,801 likes

jacintarobinhood: "I wanna teach you how forever feels like," is not for Jack-in-a-box because it's for Aemond now 😭 - bananashake44: You mean Aemond Targaryen; born in Nairobi, Kenya who beat Jacaerys for the spot as President of Fire and Blood Corporations using equal machinery Aemond Targaryen? 🤘🏽 - technobrat61: I think you mean, Aemond Targaryen who was raised in Monte-Carlo and founder of his own corporation Aemond Targaryen. 💪🏽😳 - (your first name): is there a meme about him now? i don't get it

part five

@glame @xcinnamonmalfoyx @winxchesters @yentroucnagol @hotchnerswife @mxxny-lupin @joliettes @kemillyfreitas @mxtantrights @urmomsgirlfriend1 @kravitzwhore @sweethoneyblossom1 @introverbatim @flrboyd @kemillyfreitas

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