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#in the mood for some smutty things so!!
daughterofhecata · 8 months
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Currently turning over an idea for another RBEI!Bob fic in my head
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lovebugism · 15 days
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hi bug!! for your shy!reader requests, idk if you’re going smutty w them but if you ARE: I love the concept of reader being generally pretty quiet, which extends to r’s sex life bc they’ve never thought to b otherwise… enter Hawkins’ own loudmouth DM who takes it upon himself to coax every noise out of reader that he can 💖🫡
ty for requesting! here's my first attempt at smut on here since 2023 :D — eddie teaches his quiet gf how to be louder in the bedroom (shy!fem!r, smut 18+)
Eddie’s face appears from beneath the covers — pale cheeks flushed, chestnut hair wild. He’s still got his ringed fingers wrapped ‘round your thighs, clutching you with the same intensity he’d had when his face was shoved between them. 
He blinks at you with chocolate eyes and drags his tongue across his lip. His pink mouth is softly swollen with use and glittering with your honey. “Is this okay?” he slurs between labored pants.
You lift your swimmy head from the pillow and peer at him through the valley of your breasts, rising and falling with each deep breath. You nod until the words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s— it’s good,” you answer breathlessly, though you don’t think that describes the half of it.
There aren’t enough words in the English language you could string together to describe how he makes you feel. How good he is with his tongue. How you’re throbbing clit still pounds like a heartbeat for more of him.
“Okay. Good,” he huffs with a lazy nod. 
His fingers fidget around your thighs when he shifts on the mattress, wincing slightly when his sensitive cock ruts against it. “I just… I wanted to make sure, you know? ‘Cause you weren’t… You weren’t really… Saying anything.”
He forces out a chuckle to keep the honeyed mood light while horror floods your features. Your eyes soften around the edges with worry. “What was I… What was I supposed to say?” you squeak.
“Nothing!” he answers quickly, eyes going wide when he senses your panic. “It’s just… Most— Most people moan when they feel good and stuff…” His lip quirks in a lopsided smile before a laugh sputters from them. “I mean, you’ve heard me. I’m fucking loud.”
He is. He’s more than loud, actually — full of gruff moans, pretty whimpers, and neverending praise. He never leaves you with an ounce of worry when you’re with him ‘cause he’s constantly rambling about how good you feel.
“Fuck, baby, that’s good— Oh, shit,” he babbled while he fucked your mouth, some minutes ago now. He whimpered after, high-pitched and faraway.“Gonna make me cum— so fucking hard— in your pretty little throat. Fuck, angel. Fuck—”
You writhe on the mattress, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin. 
You become acutely hyperaware of how bare you are below him, with his face mere inches from your glistening pussy and his chocolate eyes swimming with warmth. You feel more naked than you already are. Totally fucking see-through.
“Sorry,” you murmur sheepishly. “I just… I guess, I’m just quiet. I don’t know.”
Eddie smiles like he isn’t wearing your slick all over his chin. “That’s okay,” he assures with an innocuous twinkle in his eye. “But you don’t have to be. You know that, right?”
You blink at him until you realize the question isn’t rhetorical. 
His smile falls into a mischievous smirk when you nod. 
“Be as loud as you want for me, yeah? Make all the noise you want…”
—————
He’s a menace.
Eddie Munson is a total fucking menace.
He doesn’t eat your pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do. No, he takes his good and well time with you — like he plans on doing this, and only this, for the rest of his life. 
Your inner thighs are slick with saliva. His spit drips down your ass, along with your honey, as his tongue laps mercilessly at your cunt. Slowly, gently, agonizingly. It’s like he can’t help but be so sloppy. Like he can’t help but drool all over your pussy ‘cause he loves it so damn much.
“Eddie, please,” you whine through heavy pants, clammy hands cradling your knees to keep them spread for him. “I wanna cum, Eddie. Please, I wanna cum.”
If he’s doing all this to get you talking, well, it’s fucking working.
His mouth smacks when it parts from your sensitive clit. The delicate button is as swollen as his lips are now. His pretty face is utterly blissed out — mouth rosy, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed. Like he’s found heaven in your pussy.
“Shit,” he huffs with a crooked smile, still a bit breathless. “You taste too good… Got me all distracted… Wasn’t tryin’ to tease you, babe, I swear.”
He pulls back the sticky hood of your cunt with a ringed hand. You keen when his thumb rolls over your throbbing clit. “Fuck, Eds,” you gasp — back arched, head thrown back.
“Need it that bad, huh?” He chuckles quietly when your hips buck into his hand, desperate for more. 
“Please, Eds,” you beg with your eyes squeezed shut. Tears burn in the very corners of them, stinging like you might cry at how good he’s making you feel. At how badly you want him to make you cum.
Spit dribbles from his pursed mouth onto your already slick pussy. He rubs it in with guitar string-calloused fingers, and your toes curl into the sheets. “Wanna cum?” he slurs, blinking slowly at your trembling form with pretty button eyes. “Wanna cream on my tongue?”
You whine at the vulgarity of his words — and at the lightning strike that rushes down your spine when his merciless fingers graze your pulsing clit. Swallowing down a sob, you nod rapidly against the pillow.
Eddie kisses your pussy like he would your mouth. Your honey clings to him when he pulls away, smirking up at you with glittering lips. “Then keep talking for me, yeah?”
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talaok · 8 days
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a smutty joel imagine with him saying, “you’re in trouble doll”
Pairing: dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader
summary: Joel, your dad's best friend, has pissed you off once again for his constant fear of your father finding out about you, so you decide to make him jealous, only he doesn't take it as well as you expected... or maybe exactly as you had
warnings: jealousy, he grabs you by the neck at one point, possessive!Joel smut| a bit of thigh riding, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, she calls him daddy ONCE bc I need to cut back on the daddy kink it's becoming a problem, kind of exhibitionism, and unnecessary feelings cause i can never fucking write a story where they're just fucking for some reason
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You were flirting good
The way you only did when you weren't really interested, when it was just a game, when you were bored, or perhaps... in the mood for taunting someone
Maybe someone who was across the backyard, his hazel eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as he gripped his beer hard enough to shatter it, his head nodding slowly at whatever your dad was saying, but his thoughts only to you, only to that little asshole who had his hand on your cheek- on his girl
"I'd forgotten how funny you are" you said, after falling into a more than exaggerated laughing fit at one of Kaleb's miserable jokes.
He grinned with that smile guys have when they think they have it in the bag, when they’re already picturing you in their bed
As if
“Tell you what, I'm even funnier in front of a drink,” he said, his eyes glinting with victory “you free tonight?”
But before you could respond, a very much non-friendly voice barked from beside you
"she's not"
Joel looked even hotter than usual with that t-shirt clinging to his toned biceps and pecs, and the way he was looking at Kaleb... he looked ready to kill, and fuck if that didn't make him even hotter
"Tommy needs your help on the grill, I'm takin' a break" he nodded toward his brother, giving the guy a chance to scramble before he had to punch him in the face
"now?" Kaled wined, his gaze trailing to you, as if counting on the understanding of another man of what he was interrupting
"Now."
There was no room for negotiating, and the guy finally got it, sighing loudly before nodding
"Fine, I'll catch you later then," he smiled, watching you reciprocate, before he started for the grill
You squinted your eyes against the sun as you looked up at Joel, making a show of rolling your eyes as he gave you that stern, angry look he was always so good at giving
"Cockbloker"
You didn't wait for whatever smart retort he was gonna send your way as you turned around and started making your way into the house,
only of course, he was right behind you, closing the glass door to the kitchen with a loud thud
"you're in trouble doll"
again, you could only roll your eyes as you opened the fridge to look for what you didn't even know
The party of people just outside the windows was loud, but his steps as he stalked to you were the only thing you could hear
"I'm talking to you"
You could hear the restraint in his voice, almost feel it oozing off of him, the way you were getting under his skin, the way he was controlling his own rage
And when you only sighed, still not acknowledging his presence... then his self-control slipped, and his hand had forced the fridge to fly shut, the bottles rattling inside.
maybe this will get your attention
And it did, you turned to him, a bored, stoic look on your face
"what do you think you're doing?" he hissed, his jaw ticking 
"what?" you cocked a brow "I'm not allowed to talk to people anymore?"
The way he tilted his head, flames of anger lighting his eyes as he took a step towards you made you want to get down on your knees and suck him off right there and then... but then again, you were supposed to make him pay
"Don't give me that bullshit" he growled "That wasn't just talking, there's only one thing that guy was after and you know it"
You scoffed, taking a step closer to him in affront
"so?" you asked, raising your brows "What I was after the same thing Joel?" you argued "You know, since you're so scared of my dad finding out... since you're always saying I should find someone more age-appropriate, I figured... why not Kaleb?" 
Oh he was fuming
"At least he's not scared of my dad" you mocked "At least he wouldn't have to sneak out of my house after he's done fucking me-"
you didn't even see him move, the only thing you felt, was the back of your head hitting the fridge, and seconds after, his hand gripping your throat, and only then did you hear the gasp fleeing your throat
he had moved you to the other side of the fridge so that from outside, no one could see your dad's bestie choking his daughter without so much of a hair of second thought.
"If he even tries to come near you" his face was but an inch from yours "He won't have a dick to fuck you with sweetheart, got it?"
What did he think? That he was gonna scare you? please
You snorted, your mouth twitching in a smirk
"You don't own me Joel" you only purred "I can fuck who I want"
The snarl he let out was nothing but predatory
"You think that fucking guy's the right one for you?" he asked, his right leg in between yours, the top of his thigh dangerously close to your core 
"you think that little asshole's gonna make you come?" his breath was ghosting your mouth, but he ducked lower, murmuring against your ear now 
"You think Kaleb's gonna fuck you better than I do?"
Although shivers were running down your spine, you chuckled, as you murmured "Maybe"
He groaned, his thigh immediately going to your center, rubbing against your clit as his fingers tightened on your throat.
"say that again" he challenged, his voice rough and throaty
"what," you grinned, "you think you're some kind of sex god or something?"
The fact that he could hear all the little whimpers you were swallowing down your throat didn't help your case
"Have you forgotten already about all the times you were begging for my cock sweetheart?" he teased, his jeans damping with your slick as you parted your mouth in pleasure "All the nights you spent screaming my name, mh?" 
His warm words felt so good on your neck, and his leg... if he kept at it you might just fall apart like that
"you think another man can do that for you?" his eyes were boring into yours now, his hand forcing you to meet his gaze 
And when you didn't answer, the same smug grin on you, he understood what he needed to do
"You need a little reminder, 's that it?"
And just like that, you had exactly where you wanted him.
If he was aware that this was your plan all along, he didn't show it, probably because you had turned his brain into a jealous angry heap.
He watched the way you bit your bottom lip, the same way he's seen you do thousands of times before, need pooling in your iris and panties at the same time
"ah that's it, isn't it?" he growled, his right hand going to squeeze your ass "my dirty girl needs me to remind her who's the only man that can make her feel good huh?"
And fuck it, but you were already palming the bulge at the front of his pants
"whose cock she needs to be filled with" he smirked, watching your pretty eyes fall to his mouth
"then I guess I just have to, don't I?"
His lips were on yours faster than you could blink, his mouth ravenous and hungry as much as his tongue, which was exploring every inch of you as if he needed to have all of you, right there, right now.
You felt his hand leave your neck and seconds after your ear picked up his zipper getting undone and then he was picking you up and he was hastily freeing his cock from his boxers and-
It was all so fucking fast- he felt like a man possessed
For this much talk of you being the one to need a reminder, it looked like it was him the only one to need this
And maybe it was because seeing you talking to that guy made him see red, or maybe because it had been more than 24 hours since he had a taste of you and missed you more than anything, or maybe... maybe he was just starting to realize that it wasn't the 24 hours, and it wasn't Kaleb, but it was you, it had always been you, with that smart mouth and that smug attitude and your determination and kindness and beauty and fuck- this had never been just fuking- he could never just be having sex with you, he wanted to have you, all of you, not just like this, but in public, in front of everyone, in front of Kaleb and you pissed off dad- he wanted to- to bring you on a proper date and pay the bill and only then fuck you so good you forgot your name- he wanted, he wanted everything, he wanted you, completely.
"You know anyone could come in here at any moment right?" you asked breathlessly as you leaned away, your lips swollen already 
He had you propped against the part of the fridge facing the wall, so you were hidden from the outside, but anyone could have just taken a closer look, or come into the kitchen for a fresh beer and caught you just as he railed into you... and he couldn't have fucking cared less
"What, you scared?"
And the way you smiled- the way you smiled was enough to make a grown man drop to his knees in an instant
"fuck me, daddy"
God fucking damn him, but he might just be in love
"Jesus fucking Christ doll"
He didn't let you laugh at him before he had pounced into you with one hard and deep thrust, his mouth crushing into yours simultaneously to drown out that clamorous moan he already knew was coming from your throat
He didn't let you get used to him, he only started fucking up into you like he needed to split you in half, like he needed to get deeper into you that he'd ever been.
He was grunting with each push, and you could faintly hear the fridge beside you move in tandem with his movements, but you couldn't have cared less about worrying whether or not it could be seen from outside.
he hit a particularly deep spot inside of you and just as you were about to cry out like a mad woman, his hand was on your mouth, shutting you up for good
"you let another guy touch this fucking pussy and they're dead" his eyes were just as brutal as his thrusts, although a veil of harrowing honesty lay beneath them
He was being serious, he needed you to know that
 "got it?" he asked, your mind only half listening as your walls tightened around him "It's fucking mine" he purred, the hand he had on your waist tight enough to bruise "You're fucking mine," he said, "all of you" 
You swore you felt pain underneath the anger in his voice
"I don't care what you say, I'm the only one that can make you come, 'm the only one who can touch you or fuck you or- or fucking take you out to dinner- got it?"
If it were any other moment you would have teased him, but this... there was something too precious- too honest about this
"yes" you whimpered into his palm, 
And that sent him straight to fucking heaven, he couldn't help but relieve your lips of his hand and kiss you again, kiss you with every inch of life he had in him
"You're mine" he breathed, both of you breathing so heavily you were nearly hyperventilating
"I'm yours Joel" you promised, your core wisting and tuning as he drilled you closer and closer to the edge "I'm yours" you repeated, watching what it did to him, the relief plastered onto his face, the want only multiplying in his pace "only yours- all of me-"
"that's right" he breathed, his skin slapping with yours "My pussy, my body, my girl" he purred "You're mine, doll"
And just like that, he had pushed you over the edge, watching you fall apart closely before he couldn't help but follow suit, kissing you as he silenced both your moans, bottling them up inside of him, so he could never forget them, forget this.
You opened your eyes to find his already on you, so many unspoken words, feelings, hopes in them, and you couldn't help but smile, dropping your forehead to his as he settled you back onto the ground
"That was- wow" you sighed, still grinning like a kid "I should make you jealous more often"
"Please don't" he begged, his fingers drawing circles on your waist as you kissed him again, smiling softly onto his lips
You needed to talk, about what happened, about what this was, about everything... but as you both leaned away, a mutual understanding passed through you
Later
"You should get back out there" you murmured, although halfheartedly.
the prospect of moving away from his embrace felt like hell right now
"what about you?" he asked, his nose nuzzling against yours
"I gotta clean myself up" 
"I could help" 
You rolled your eyes playfully as a small laugh flowed through you
"Joel" you said, still smiling "go"
And so even if his whole mind, body, and soul were fighting against it, he did, kissing you one last time before he leaned away, fixed himself up, and looked at you one more time, before walking out of the kitchen and into the backyard
And as if on cue that fucking asshole had to come in and ruin his fucking vibe
"Hey, where's y/n? I've been looking for her" Kaleb asked, walking up to him.
Joel didn't even try to be nice, he didn't even bother with that "count to ten before answering" bullshit Sarah was always telling him about
"She's not interested, and if I see you even just looking her way ever again, I am going to kill you Kaleb, understand?"
To say the guy was taken aback was the understatement of the century
His eyes widened so much he didn't even look like himself
"w-what the fuck?" he spat "Where is she, I need to t-"
"she's in the bathroom" Joel cut him off, pure rage and annoyance in his voice, in his stare "cleaning my come off of herself"
Kaleb stumbled back, literally now
"w-wha-"
"I told you buddy" Joel said simply "she's not interested"
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Hello! Long time reader first time requester (because all your stuff is literally perfect and there’s nothing to make it better) but I was wondering if you could do a fic like that’s a bit smutty and fluffy where during sex lando accidently finishes WAY too early and then spends the next few days trying to make it up?? Plot or not literally do whatever you want but I thought it could be a bit funny
Never Going To Happen Again - LN
I'm ngl I may have made this smuttier than requested. But when you said he tries to make it up to her, I figured that meant through sex. So sorry if this is too much but ummm...sometimes I get carried away.
Warnings: unprotected sex only briefly (do not engage in such behaviour irl for the love of god, wrap it up), mentions of vomiting on dick :D, oral (female receiving), exhibitionism
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Lando has a pretty stellar record when it comes to sex with y/n, so maybe it was unfair to expect that he'd be perfect every time. God knows she's had her moments that weren't exactly impressive.
"Fuck, y/n." Lando grunts and she feels the familiar heat spill into her and while the last thing she wants to do is appear disappointed, the internal disappointment is very much there. "Shit."
"What?" Y/n asks feigning innocence as if it didn't just take him a matter of 5 minutes to cum. "That was great-"
"Don't lie to save my feelings."
"I take it as a compliment, baby. If I feel that good, then I'm doing something right." Y/n tries to assure him while sitting up and smiling as leans in to kiss him which she almost expects him to dodge. "Lando...I threw up on your dick once."
"I didn't need that reminder right now." Lando grimaces, probably thinking of one of his worst sexual experiences after prematurely cumming in his girlfriend is the last thing he needs. "You didn't even finish."
"How about...we go in the bath, clean up, you choose some movies, I'll make us something to eat and we can just chill?" Y/n offers while he looks at her sighing heavily and nodding before she kisses him again. "I love you. This is not a make or break moment where everything changes."
Lando nods silently, though he's already plotting his redemption. Y/n is already planning to do everything to make sure Lando knows he didn't do anything wrong. Her initial disappointment was gone as so as she realised he's more annoyed himself than she is about not getting to orgasm.
In his defence, they haven't seen each other a couple weeks and Lando gets especially touch-starved the longer he goes without sex while y/n just sort of keeps herself busy till she sees him again.
Lando is pulled to the bathroom once the bath is ran and once he's sat in the hot water, y/n joins him, pressing her back to his front.
"You know, I could...finish you now." Lando whispers trailing his finger up her inner thigh where she attempts to close off access.
"Lando...It's ok."
"It'd be even more ok if you let me actually do my job as a boyfriend." Lando states making her sigh and lol her head back, that's when he realises maybe the mood was just ruined and she might genuinely not want to. "Alright, no orgasm for you tonight. Just cuddles, love and as many kisses as you'll allow."
A genuine smile appears and Lando feels some warmth spread through him.
"That sounds pretty nice to me." Y/n smiles before she closes her eyes. "What you feeling like eating?"
"Mmm...chicken Alfredo." Lando requests knowing it's actually y/n's favourite meal. She orders it every time they go out, sometimes choosing something else if it seems especially appealing, and sometimes Lando won't even bother taking her to a restraint unless he checks the menu beforehand to make sure she can order it if nothing else catches her attention.
"Yeah?" Y/n grins turning her head to look at him. "No tuna salad."
"I'm trying to be nice." Lando whines earning a small laugh from girl before he finally feels himself relaxing a little more. His hands move to her sides, digging into her soft waist making her squeal thrashing and sending the water out of the tub onto the floor.
"Stop. Stop! Please. I'm sorry!" Y/n laughs still trying to escape his touch. "Truce!"
"Alright, you're safe. Even if you just flooded the bathroom."
"Me?! That was your fault." Y/n laughs now lying so she's some what lying with her chin on his chest, easier with significantly less water In the tub. "Ok, lets get out. Clean up the floor and then I'll start making the best dish known to mankind."
It takes far too many towels and they even resort to using some of the dirty clothes that need washing to really mop up all the water. And once they've both thrown as much of the wet towels and clothes into the washing machine for a cycle, dumping the rest that doesn't fit in front for the next load, they move to change into some comfy clothes.
-
"Baby..." Lando whispers earning a grunt that trails off as a hum as he kisses down her body, the feeling of his lips on her skin.
"Yes?"
"Can I?" Lando asks softly knowing she's still half asleep.
"Please." Y/n murmurs, her eyes fluttering open just enough for her to drive she's awake enough to know what he's doing and what she's asking for.
Lando smiles returning to kissing her lower tummy then finally gently pushing her legs further apart and using his fingers to see that either his touch works fast for effect or she was having a very nice dream. Either way, it's not hard to cave into his own temptation licking over pussy till he stops at her clit and the familiar feeling of her hand gripping into his curls is added into the equation.
Y/n never has to the courage to completely smother the brunette, as much as he's insisted it's fine, but she seems to find grounding by touching him somehow.
"Fuck, L-Lando." Y/n whimpers her back arching up pushing her further to his mouth and he's happy to comply.
He doesn't make the mistake of changing anything as he feels her edging slowly towards an orgasm and when it finally hits mission is accomplished in the form of her being a sweaty mess in a blissful daze.
"That's one way to wake me up." Y/n pants as Lando remains down between her legs, though he's shifted back with her legs over his shoulders as he just looks up.
"I'll remember that." Lando hums then kissing the inner side of her thigh.
-
Y/n and Lando going to the McLaren Christmas party meant a flight back to London, throughout which Lando decided to give y/n another two orgasms.
But it's seeing her dressed for the party that Lando decides he's going to be the best and worst part of her night.
Since it is the Christmas party. A Christmas meal is included and Lando decides that's when he's going to strike.
"I love this dress, baby." Lando comments as she stands up in her heels. A rare wardrobe choice and Lando is sure she'll be out of them by the end of the night, it means he usually ends up carrying her which is completely fine since he is always more than happy to have his girlfriend latched onto him in anyway.
"Yeah? I wasn't sure if white was the way to go, especially when you're wearing wearing black. But white works for Christmas...and it's a short dress." Y/n rambles probably trying to justify the choice more to herself than him since they both know he'd say everything looks beautiful on her.
Being her boyfriend though, he knows exactly what to say. Especially since it's actually his favourite colour of dress on her.
"It does work for Christmas, but also I like it when you wear white."
Y/n grins kissing him making does make him groan a little at the feeling of her sticky lip gloss transferring.
"I don't know what you're whining about, you just stole my lip gloss straight off my lips." Y/n pouts jokingly then squealing when Lando smacks her ass to hurry her along. "Ok, I'm moving."
"Good. We're already past the point of fashionably late." Lando laughs as she rushes to grab her bag then smiling when he guides her with his hand on the small of her back.
They don't take too long to get to the party and Lando does take a bit of pride as they walk in and he sees that while they initially turned to look at him, their eyes were drawn to his stunning girlfriend. Which in turn made her visibly panic and link her hand with his, partially hiding herself behind him in hopes of avoiding the stares.
Lando gets them over to Zak and they manage to talk to a few others on the team before everyone moves to eat together (idk if there was actually a dinner at the party but we're going to pretend there was for the sake of this making sense).
Y/n does notice that Lando seems to be wolfing the food down and even Zak shoots her a look of question as if silently asking if Lando had been starving himself in preparation for this.
However, when he finishes eating she leans over trying to speak quietly.
"Are you ok? You just ate that hold plate in less than 5 minutes." Y/n states when she feels Lando's hand come down to rest on her thigh. She doesn't realise what this move is from Lando because really he spends half his time just resting his hand on her thigh. But in reality, Lando has no plan on his hand remaining just there.
"Yeah, just hungry. It's really good."
Y/n frowns at her boyfriend's odd behaviour, but she doesn't say anything, instead just refocusing on her meal and ending up in a conversation with the assistant who was seated beside her.
Lando doesn't really intend to waste time and all he can say is thank you for the plastic table cloth that is perfectly covering their laps. Because when he quickly moves his hand, wanting to reach the flimsy material over her pussy before she clamps her thighs together.
This isn't the first time Lando has managed to touch her in a public setting, but even he knows that if they're caught he'll be in trouble for his actions. As much as they don't treat Lando like a child as they did in his first couple seasons, they don't appreciate being a witness to his sex life.
"Sorry, Lando. did you say something?" Y/n questions interrupting her conversation to shoot a glare at Lando while he smiles.
"Just make sure you're eating." Lando states as he pushes her underwear aside, he leans into kiss her cheek then using the action to speak. "Doesn't feel like you want me to stop."
Her thighs are still clamped together as they have a bit of a stare down before she relaxes and allows him to go ahead, though she's definitely shocked when he pushes a finger into her with ease while she remains quiet by trying to eat a mouthful of roast parsnips.
With Lando having enough knowledge of y/n's body, he grazes her g-spot without effort. She covers it well only letting out a slightly shaky breath.
To her relief the assistant has picked up another conversation, after all Lando and y/n have a reputation of Lando always wanting to fight for attention with y/n.
Lando's actually surprised that y/n is letting him go ahead with such a public action. He's almost tempted to just stick to using her g-spot but he knows he can speed things up with applying some pressure to her clit.
The chatter around them and music means any sounds that may otherwise be audible from y/n.
His hand is soaked from her and after feeling her begin to tighten, he presses his thumb onto her clit with a merciless pressure that makes her grab his bicep and pull him closer, her face pressing into his shoulder as she manages to remain silent and come completely undone. Twitching and pulsing around Lando's fingers as they remain within her.
"Alright, baby." Lando soothes before clearing his throat which catches some attention. "Y/n's got a headache, think the alcohol might be getting to her head. I'm just going to take her to grab some painkillers from the car."
Y/n's face is flush with embarrassment at the thought of someone possibly having just bore witness to her cumming on her boyfriend's hand which he has yet to remove from her.
They look at her as Lando finally removes his hand and they stand up.
No one really says anything as they get up to leave. but Lando leads her to some bathrooms a bit further away.
"Alright, baby. Let's clean you up. Make sure there's no evidence on your dress." Lando smiles moving to clean up his hands first before he wants to help her while she gasps at the thought of her dress having any evidence.
White is hardly a colour that allows for much risk with this stuff.
"You're fine." Lando assures her as she turns to check the back of her dress most specifically.
"Ok, good." Y/n nods before she lets out a soft sigh. "Some warning of your intentions before we go out would be nice."
"Yeah?" Lando smirks as she looks at him for a moment. "Wasn't sure if you'd let me do it."
Y/n hums before watching Lando grab some paper towel.
"They're not the softest but they should work." Lando smiles while she hums with a small grimace. "I love you."
"I love you too...and you can stop making up for the other day now. You've more than made up for it-not that you even had to." Y/n states though she's got a gut feeling that he actually enjoyed making it up to her and will happily continue his actions.
"Well it's not going to be happening again." Lando promises making her roll her eyes. "So...how about I prove that now?"
"You are insatiable."
"That's a yes."
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eiightysixbaby · 8 months
Text
my brain is just full of little smutty thoughts lately I’m not sorry
cw: unprotected piv, creampie, oral m receiving, somnophilia 18+
eddie’s soft snores are just about the only sound in the room aside from the slight rustling of the sheets as your hand inches slowly down to his cock. his curls are cascading across the pillow as he sleeps, his beautiful long lashes on display. he looks so perfect, so peaceful, that you almost feel remorse for what you’re about to do. almost.
eddie had recently brought up the idea of you… doing things to him while he was asleep. had asked you if that’s something you’d ever be interested in, if you’d want to. you’d been hesitant at first, not wanting to risk doing it at a time where he just wasn’t in the mood - you’d feel horrible, you’d feel like you were taking advantage of him. he reassured you that you had his explicit permission to use him whenever you liked, but on the off chance he just wasn’t down for it, he’d be sure to tell you.
he’d had a long day at work yesterday, coming home and barely making it through a shower before he completely collapsed into bed. you’d wanted to take care of him right then and there, wanted to make him feel good and take the stress off of his shoulders, but the way he pulled you to his body to snuggle you had told you that nothing more was necessary just yet. now, you’d woken in the middle of a restless sleep. it’s around six in the morning, and you can’t get back to sleep for the life of you. seeing eddie’s chest rise and fall beside you, eyes roaming over his bare arms and toned shoulders had you worked up. all you could think about was having his cock inside you, and so, feeling a little bold, you decided to try out eddie’s newest fantasy.
your hand wraps around his soft dick, squeezing the flesh slightly. you pump lightly a few times, smirking to yourself when he grows harder almost instantly. his size expands in your hand, fingers wrapping around the full girth of him. you bite your lip, pumping his cock in your fist again, and again. eddie remained asleep, which was no surprise because you know he’s a heavy sleeper. you feel so scandalous in this moment, so raunchy, and it only turns you on further. the thought of eddie waking to you doing sinful things to him drives you mad, and so you push it even further. your unoccupied hand reaches down to cup his balls, squeezing them between your fingers. you tug on the stretchy skin, curling your lips inwards in a smile when eddie’s breath hitches.
the soft glow from the nightlight and the trickle of a rising sun from the early dawn slipping in through the window are the only things illuminating your room, but they’re enough to light up eddie’s body in the perfect way. the contours of his frame are outlined, his face bathed in just enough light, making him look so soft and sweet. your hand continues to glide up and down his shaft, before you finally decide you need to see him. you pull the bedsheet off of him, exposing his entire body to you. your mouth falls open at the sight of his cock like you’d never seen it before, maybe you’re just surprised to see how hard he’s gotten when he’s not even awake to look at you or touch you back. you shuffle your body down so your mouth is near his crotch, tentatively sticking your tongue out and licking his balls. you let your tongue continue upwards, leaving a stripe of saliva up the shaft of his cock, watching the way it twitches when you reach the tip. you’re practically drooling at the sight before you, his head pink and leaking just for you. eddie lets out a snore, and for some reason it only spurs you on. how far can you take this until he wakes up? how excited will he be when he wakes up?
you wrap your lips around his swollen head, pressing your tongue to the slit and collecting the salty pre-cum that waits for you there. eddie almost stirs, his back arching a little bit in a subconscious stretch. you bite your lip in anticipation, letting his breathing steady again before you lap at his leaking cock once more. you take him further into your mouth, slowly slowly slowly, getting him nice and covered in your spit. he grunts a little, but remains asleep, and you can’t help but laugh to yourself. you work him with your mouth a little longer before you can’t take it anymore, the ache between your thighs growing too strong. you straddle his lap carefully, grabbing the base of his cock in a needy hand and lining him up with your entrance. you’re soaked for him, and you take every inch he has with ease as you sink down onto him. you let out a high-pitched whine as you start to rock your body against his, feeling him everywhere. this is enough to wake eddie, and the beautiful boy beneath you enters reality. eyelashes flutter open, those dangerous big brown eyes meeting yours. his lips part slightly as he registers what you’re doing, before they twist into a shit-eating grin.
“good morning to you too,” he purrs, his morning voice deep and gravelly.
all you can do is hum in response, a pleased little sound, as you bounce on his cock. his hands find your waist, squeezing the flesh there as your soaking cunt engulfs him. he lets out little groans here and there, husky moans of your name as his voice adjusts to being used. you’re whining, pleading with him even though he’s not denying you of anything. you need a release so badly, and his hips move in lazy thrusts to match the movements of yours. his cock hitting the perfect spot over and over, bringing you to your breaking point in the stillness of the early morning. your mouth hangs open as you fall apart on top of him, walls fluttering around him, repeating his name over and over like a hymn. he cums immediately after you, movements slowing to a stop as he works every last drop from himself.
he pulls out and flips you over, nose nudging yours as he presses his lips to your own.
“you’re a little minx, you know that?” he grins, peppering more kisses to your face.
“figured you could use a nice wake up call after the day you had yesterday,” you say, suddenly shy.
“it was everything I needed and more, baby. you’re unreal,” he praises, laying down beside you and wrapping you up in his arms. “think you’re gonna need to do that more often,” he says smugly.
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swordcreature · 4 months
Note
Looks at you like this
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What do you think the tieflings are like with a tav/reader that’s rlly quiet in bed until they’re really suddenly not?
ahh i hope you like this! i had some trouble finding my way at first but we got there in the end lol
Dammon, Rolan, & Zevlor - Partner's Noises
back to mostly smut y'all heheh. MDNI/18+ most definitely
How the tiefling boys react to a quiet partner who gets loud
Dammon:  
Dammon doesn’t mind how quiet you are during sex. He is fairly perceptive and can tell through other means if you are having a good time.  
He’s not the type to let something like that ruin the mood. He trusts that if something were wrong you would tell him, because he trusts you. 
That first little groan you make startles him and he checks in to make sure it wasn’t a bad sound. 
You notice a satisfied, almost smug, grin as you get increasingly louder.  
Every time you let a noise slip past your lips it sends a jolt straight to his cock, making him a bit feral. That first time you definitely notice how his hips rut into you like a wild animal when he’s seeking his own release.  
He pulls you aside and tells you just how much trouble he is in if you keep making sounds like that. 
Because whatever he did, he’s going to be burning that into his memory to try again.  
The next time you fuck, he begins softly, like he would any other time. But, with a devilish grin, he starts repeating whatever it was that made you start to lose control.  
He eats up every sound, loves the way you feel almost screaming against his lips. It doesn’t lose its appeal a second time. Or third. Or fourth for that matter. 
He starts to experiment with different ways to hear those noises, and he secretly has a small paper tucked into the pages of his smutty book listing different things that make you noisy, underlining his favorites.  
His personal favorite? Overstimulation. He could fuck you with his mouth for hours on end just to hear the way you keen so loudly. 
If you try and muffle it all, he’ll stop you. The only way he lets you stifle the sound is when you take his tail into his mouth to play with the sensitive tip. He’ll definitely sacrifice some volume for that. 
Of course, not every time has to be a noisy night, he still appreciates the moments you have together that are sweet and quiet. But he does often find himself craving getting between your thighs and fucking you until the neighbors are sure to hear your shouts across the street. 
Rolan: 
The first time you have sex, Rolan is worried something is wrong. That you don’t really want him, that you’re not really enjoying yourself. If he could lose just a bit of his self-doubt, he would be able to read your face, your body, and tell that you are in fact having fun.  
 But he wants you so badly he finds it hard to let go of those little fears, especially when you’re quiet.  
You assure him everything is okay, and he listens, though still a bit apprehensive when inside you.  
I think after some time Rolan becomes more relaxed and starts to believe that you are just quiet in bed and not having a subpar time. 
One night, when he tries something new, or overstimulates you, or just hits a spot in you that hasn’t been touched in a long time, you snap. The noise stops Rolan in his tracks.  
He looks down at you with a raised brow, questioning, and he tentatively repeats his motions.  
I think Rolan would cum really quickly after a couple minutes of hearing you cry in pleasure.  
But dear god does it change something in him.  
He would try to draw those noises from you every time he has you and at first it would be really fun. But I think, depending on how well you read him, you’d notice that there’s something wrong in his eye as he works for your cries.  
When you ask him about it, I think he would admit sheepishly that he still thinks that unless you’re screaming his name to the heavens above, you’re not satisfied. And he wants to satisfy you any way he can. If that means overexerting himself to have such wild sex, then that’s just something he’d put up with for you. 
You reassure him again that your quiet sex is still good – great actually, completely and utterly perfect even – and sometimes you prefer it. Not every night has to be some big production.  
Rolan starts to calm down after that, starts to luxuriate in your quiet intimacy just as much as your loud sex. You even notice that the quiet times are even better than before as he truly accepts that you want him regardless of whether you are silently gasping or crying out so loud that Cal and Lia can hear you several floors below.  
Zevlor: 
I think Zevlor is a more reserved guy when it comes to sounds during sex. He’s not dead silent or anything, but he himself keeps his moans breathy and low, trying to preserve some decency lest anyone hear him.  
So, when you are quiet in bed, it’s not an issue at all for him. In fact, it doesn’t even phase him.  
You’re giving him a form of intimacy that he desperately craves – you want him and that’s the only thing running through his mind as he takes you.  
He’s surprised, to say the least, when one night you moan his name out loud as he touches you. 
The blush on his face could be seen from space, and that’s saying something for a person with red skin. 
When he continues his work and your voice rises again and again, he’s trying to hush you. Not because he doesn’t like your noises. No, he likes them. Very much so. 
But he knows he won’t last if you keep making them.  
Does he actually stop what he’s doing that makes you get loud? Nope. Not at all. 
Because even though he’s so achingly close to cumming inside you, and he’s almost certain someone can hear you as your moans turn into screams of bliss, he’s never had a partner cry for him like you. He can’t bring himself to stop. 
But of course, always the honorable man, Zevlor clasps a hand around your mouth to try and keep most of the sounds contained so that he can enjoy them and no one else. Those noises are meant for him alone. 
After this, he’s prepared. The next time he starts with the touches he knows will break you down, he has his palm clamped over your mouth before you make one peep.  
Every once in a blue moon, when you’re about to rush over the edge of an orgasm, he takes his hand away and lets your voice raise to its full volume, no matter who may be listening.  
Because at the end of the day he’s just a simple man, and what man wouldn’t want others to know how well he takes care of his love? 
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carolmunson · 15 days
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the boy is mine (carol's edition)
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you know i had to do it to 'em. if you'd like to take a crack at the 'the boy is mine' writing challenge, you can check it out here. you can also see the masterlist of everyone's works here. a/n: for me, how eddie was fleshed out in FOI has always been how i see him. hurting, but goofy, but snarky, but sweet, but loving, but scared, but all that. eddie 'has taken care of himself since third grade' munson just makes sense to me. in this ficlet, our romantic night in gets muddled when eddie doesn't know how to just let someone love him right. i've also always have written eddie as older than he actually is, so here -- he's 25. argue with the wall. tw: 18+, angst, hurt/comfort, some smutty references but no smut, references to smoking and drinking. some arguing but nothing crazy.
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The day was hard on his shoulders and back, no one should be hunched over the hood of a car for this long -- and even being young isn't saving him from the grimace he makes every time he gets out of his bed with a decades old mattresss. Eddie cracks his neck each way while he chugs down the road leading to Forest Hills, slick and shiny with rain from the afternoon. The orangey yellow headlights on his beat up '71 Chevrolet bounce cheerily off the darkened asphalt, but the scrape, clatter, and growl of his engine and whatever else was a stark reminder that this van was on it's last leg. As bright as the headlights were, the gloomy purpled evening sky was a perfect match to his mood.
Today is Eddie Munson's birthday.
For the past few years, Eddie has spent his birthday working double shifts at the auto shop and then meeting the guys at the Hideout to get so drunk he can't see. Can't be sad about your birthday if you're too drunk to think about how your mama's dead and your dad won't call. Can't be sad about how you won't ever get to hear her sing you happy birthday, or put on a record, or dance with you in the living room. Or have your dad make dinner and put the six pack away if only for that night. To not run out on 'a job' or 'work a late shift' where he won't come back for days afterward.
He'd drink and drink until you had to hold him up to get him out of the bar, piling him into the back seat and having the guys follow you home to help load him into bed. He always looked forward to the greasy diner hangover breakfast in the morning where it could be just the two of you, and not his birthday, and not all the awful things he thinks he is.
The gravel groans and crunches when he pulls in at the side of the trailer he used to share with Wayne. With another roll of his head and shoulders he kills the ignition, hopping out of the van and leaning over to grab his bag. It's only when he slings it over his shoulder that he notices the warm glow of the kitchen light on, passing muted through the small curtains. He hip checks the door shut and makes his way up the steps that need repairing -- another thing to add to the list for 'Spring Cleaning' in a couple weeks that he knows he'll forget to do until you remind him or one of the boards rots out. Eddie's ring tap against the metal handle and he braces for the screech of the door, only to be met with the cozy blend of garlic, onion, and rosemary hitting his nose first. He swallows while he kicks off his work boots, turning the corner to see you in the kitchenette, putting the lid back onto the one large pasta pot he has and turning the burner off. "Oh!" you jump when you see him, shock turning into a smile, "You're earlier than I thought you'd be. Hold on!"
"What're y--" He's interrupted by you hurrying into the fridge, glass clinking when you pull out a Mionetto bottle that was already opened to reveal the cork.
"Surprise!" you ring out, popping the bottle with a little flourish, "Happy birthday!" He stands there, unsure at first what he's looking at, trying to take it all in. You in the kitchen with an apron on, the table set nice, a cake set on the counter to cool with a covered bowl of what looks like home made vanilla frosting next to it. To the side, a familiar small notebook lays opened to a buttercream recipe -- his mom's buttercream recipe, still scrawled in her loopy handwriting on yellowing pages with fading blue ink.
"Melvald's didn't have any like, nice cups," you say with a scrunch of your nose as you pour two glasses of prosecco into flimsy plastic flutes, "Is that okay?" "Uh..." he snaps back to reality when you hand him the cup, "Y-yeah that's okay." "Happy birthday, handsome," you smile, raising your drink before you take a sip, he follows suit.
"What is all this?" he asks, voice sounding like it's coming from someone else. Objectively, he should be falling to his knees right now, crying with adoration for you. Sobbing over the clear effort you've put in for a romantic night together at the trailer. "Um," you suck in your lips quickly, and release them, eyes lowering to the scuffed linoleum, "I uh, I made braised short rib and mashed potatoes, some broccoli. Wayne told me that um, that your dad used to smoke them for your birthday but we don't have a smoker so..."
"Why?" The swell in his heart builds from genuine affection to suspicious bitterness, this was way too much.
"Did you not check the calendar today or something? It's kind of a big day," you try to lighten the mood with a laugh, taking the apron off and hanging it on the hook by the hallway, "Sit, sit." He follows your direction, sitting at the table where the place setting is the best it can be with what you have. You even folded up the paper towels nicely. He silently sips on the bubbles, uncomfortable on the makeshift throw pillow cushion on the chair, while you take the plate in front of him and begin serving.
"I should um," he starts, voice gravelly, "I should wash my hands and uh, and change or..." "Yeah," you nod, voice higher pitched than expected, "Go, go ahead. It'll all be ready when you're done washing up." He leaves the glass behind, thudding into the bedroom where he notices a Frederick's of Hollywood bag sitting at the end of the bed. A small pile of gifts in shiny blue paper lay stacked up pretty on his dresser -- a card front in center 'Eddie My Love' - you write it in the same way you sing it to him absentmindedly every now and again. Flipping the lyrics every time. He swallows again, pulling in his cheeks and biting down while he peels off his coveralls and slips into what he was planning to wear to drinks later -- a band tee and some worn jeans. It feels cheap to wear this now, now that you've put in all this effort. Now that you're looking all sweet and put together in the kitchen for him. He rolls his shoulders again, trying to stretch the frustration out. He doesn't wanna be mad at you, you didn't do anything wrong. He doesn't wanan feel so sick in his chest over it -- but he does. All this work for what? Eddie takes his rings off to wash his hands, using the same Dove bar soap to wash the remaining grime off his face from work. Big inhale, big exhale into the towel on the door before making it back to the kitchen where the dinette table was ready for dinner, two tapered candles lit in old holders on the side. He sits across from you, your eyes glittering in the light of the flame.
"You didn't have to do this," he says quietly. Your lips twitch into a half smile, head cocking slightly to the side. "I know, but it's your day...it's a big one, too. The big two-five," your voice doing its best to soothe, "Can't just, I dunno -- get plastered at The Hideout every year..."
"Sure I can," he shrugs with a quirk of his brows, pushing the mashed potatoes around with his fork. He watches the melty pat of butter ooze off one of the edges like a volcano, pooling in next to the broccoli. "And you like that? That's fun for you?" you chuckle before noticing he's just playing with his food, "You gonna eat?"
"Getting plastered at The Hideout is like, tradition," he mutters, looking at the clock over the cabinets, "And we're gonna be late meeting the guys."
"Ed..." you say, a vapor of disappointment floating through his name when you say it. He winces.
"Like I said, babe," he says, "You didn't have to do all this -- y'know, spend all this extra cash on dinner and --"
"I know I didn't have to, but I wanted to -- I wanted to do something nice so that your birthday could be sp -- " "Okay, well I don't need my birthday to be special, it never is," he snaps, he doesn't mean to, "I didn't ask you to do this for me." You hold your soft gaze at him, shoulders round down while you rest a cheek on your palm. If Eddie's mama was still alive, she'd tell you to get your elbows off the table.
In the flame, your glittering eyes turn glassy. You let a soft breath out through your nose, a sulk clear in your posture. "You're right," you mumble, a soft squeak of a sound while you slowly stand, shaking your head, "You're right, you didn't ask. I shouldn't have assumed that you..."
You trail off while you flick the lights on in the kitchen, leaning forward to gently blow out the taper candles. Your hand swishes away the smoke and soot, pushing out out of the cracked kitchen window before the smoke detector catches it. The cabinets creak while you take out some Tupperware from the top shelves, the good stuff that the ladies in the park sold Wayne back in the 70s. They click and clack as the bowls and trays and their tops hit the formica counter top.
"Well--well, wait -- you don't have to pack it up, babe," he says, sitting up a little taller in the chair. When he hears the shudder in your breath he stands, "You don't have to put it away."
"No, it's fine," you assure, a small strain coming through from your chest, "It'll be like -- you'll be so excited when you get home and there's all this food. I just gotta call the guys and tell them to just go to the bar instead of coming here."
"Whaddayou mean, coming here?"
You turn around, eyes wet now but not crying, a tug on your brow and taughtness in your jaw from where you try to hold it back.
"It was supposed to be a surprise," you shrug, "But like, it's not important. Lemme just pack this up and I'll get it figured out." "What's the surprise?" he asks, tilting his head to get a better look at you. "Well I..." you let out another breath, lower lip wobbling; an action your stop with a sharp inhale through the nose. "Well I thought it would be fun if the guys came over and did a birthday oneshot campaign with you. I helped Gare and Jeff write it and Jeff was gonna DM," you let out in one breath, "And it was gonna be like, a silly drinking game version." "You were gonna play?" he asks meekly. You nod. You rarely play, always watch. Always make snacks or help him clean up the trailer, always order the pizza because Eddie forgets to. Always add extra mushrooms on one because Richie likes extra mushrooms. Always make sure to get one with white sauce cause red cause doesn't sit great with Dustin.
"Did a, um, did a character sheet and whatever," you say, defeated, while you open the utensil drawer to pull out an extra pair of tongs and a serving spoon, "Drew her -- it's in your card."
You start to pack up the food and the tears start up again, welling in your eyes but still not spilling over. Eddie steps forward, getting between you and the pots and pans on the stove.
"Hey, wait," his voice bare audible, "Babe, don't."
"It's okay," you sniffle, "I just have to call them."
"No -- baby, stop," there's an edge now, ring hand falling on your wrist, "Stop packing it up."
"It's fine--"
A waltz between you, him, and the tupperware on the counter.
"Don't make me..." he huffs, trying to maneuver the tongs out of your hand, "If you don't stop, we're gonna have a pr--"
"Ed, enough! We will go to the bar, it's fine," you urge, anxiety heightening in your chest where it bursts, you start to cry, "Please, let me put it away. It's fine. I just -- fuck --"
"I feel like such an asshole," you sigh, breaking. You relent, letting go of the tongs where he takes them and leaves them between the burners on the yellowed stove.
"Don't be like that, you're not," he soothes, closing in on you against the counters edge, "You're not, I'm sorry."
"I really just wanted your birthday to be special," you weakly murmur, wiping at your eyes.
"You know how I get," he says, rough hands coming up to cup your face where he leaves a soft kiss to your cheek, "M'just not great at bein' fussed over."
"You deserve to be fussed over, doofus," you garble out, his thumbs replacing your fingers to catch the tears as they fall.
"It's hard, babe," he nods, "You knows it's hard for me. Y'know with my mom's stuff gone and my dad being...who fuckin' -- who fuckin' knows. The Hideout just makes sense. That's y'know -- that's what I deserve."
"That's not even true," you shake your head, "Don't be stupid."
"Well, I barely graduated so," he offers you a peck to each salty, wet cheek, "Stupid's my middle name." "Don't cry, sweetheart," he breathes, leaning in with a slow kiss. A kiss drenched in apologies and thank yous, breaks away just to kiss again. And again, and again, and again until you're both breathless under the sickly yellow green glow of the overhead kitchen light. "How about I change into something nicer than this, and we'll pop these plates in the microwave and start over," he asks, a smile toying on his full lips, "'Kay?"
You nod back, getting another peck stolen from you, and following him down the hall. "Oh, yes, yes, allow me to slip into something more..." he announces with flourish, posing half sexily half awkwardly in the doorway to his bedroom, "Uncomfortable." You snort, giggling while you follow in after him, settling on the end of his bed, "You don't have to dress up fancy." "'Course I do," he tsks, brows furrowing, "M'going to a five star restaurant doll, I can't look like a slob." He pulls out a pair of slacks from a funeral he went to two years ago, discarding his jeans and sliding them up over his pale legs. To your dismay, he plucks the t-shirt with a screen print of a tux out of his closet, and exchanges the worn Dio tee with that. You'll always prefer the Dio tee. "Classy," you tease. He winks, and that's enough to make you okay with the tux shirt. His fingers trail over the stack of presents and land on the envelope.
"Can I open the card?"
"Sure."
"Am I gonna cry over it?" he asks, looking at you over the dull paper when he flicks open the top.
You shake your head, "Nah, it's not sappy. You're the sappy card writer."
"I'm so sappy," he agrees, pulling out the card, "I gotta work on that, huh?"
"No, I like when you're sappy, ya sap." You watch him read the card, blush evident in the warm wash of gold from his bedside lamp. You're not a sappy card writer, but you always know how to make him feel like a kid with a crush. When he opens up your character sheet his bottom lip tucks between his teeth. "Shit," he grins, "Rogue tiefling, huh? You tryna kill me?"
"I thought it could be fun," you titter, standing up to look at the pages next to him, "Chaotic evil. Look at me."
"Ugh, baby's first villain," he gushes, "I love it."
"Look at the picture," you bounce on the balls of your feet while he goes to the next page. A much quieter 'shit' falls from his mouth. It was not a drawing that was for the rest of the guys to see, a sketch of a tiefling version of you in an outfit meant for his eyes only. "So you are trying to kill me," he asks, fingers tracing the curve of 'your' hip on the page where the outfit digs into the fat of 'your' hips.
"No, that'll be later," you smirk.
"Hm?' his brows raise.
"What do you think is in the Frederick's bag?" you ask, faux innocence smattering into your tone.
"Ah, you put a little costume together for me?" Eddie's mouth waters at the thought, brain fuzzy as he looks at the picture and then at you.
"Something like that," you tease, making your way back out into the hallway. "Something like that?!" he repeats back, hurrying back out to pull you into a searing kiss before you can make it back into the kitchen. The kind from the movies where he dips you down toward the faded carpet. As he pulls away, he nuzzles your nose against his, staring at you through lowered lids, "Thank you."
"You're very welcome," you nod, both of you making it back to full height, "Happy birthday."
You relight the candles on the table and nuke the plates of food, topping off each others plastic flutes with the left over Prosecco. There's three cases of beer in the fridge and you know Gareth is bringing Absinthe and it's something you pray doesn't mess your boyfriend up too much.
Dinner is the best meal Eddie's had in years, unable to keep his eyes off of you in between bites while you rehash your day and him, his. You're picking up the dishes off the table when the boys show up and they deliver. Taking the heat off you, they provide the snacks and even more extra booze. Jeff passes out party hats that make you all look ridiculous -- Eddie can remember laughing this much on his birthday, not even when he was a kid. Not even when his mama was alive.
After the oneshot completes and everyone is ankles deep in a tipsy haze and the smoke from a few joints lingers in the air, you walk in with the cake that is finally frosted -- the 2 and 5 confetti colored candles dancing in front of him while the rest sparkle in the middle of the coffee table. He makes one thousand wishes that he knows will come true because his friends are all still there with him and so are you. You're one room right over, cutting the cake and plating it up, and you'll be there when the boys leave in your skimpy nerdy costume that you bought just for him. And you'll be there while he sleeps and you'll be there when he wakes up. You'll be there across from him the next morning when he feeds you fries dipped in chocolate shake at the diner.
Today is Eddie Munson's birthday. And his mother's buttercream frosting is the sweetest it's ever tasted.
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your-nanas-house · 5 months
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Hi! So if it was okay, could I request an nsfw Tommy Shelby fic with y/n where pretty much it's that time of month and she's hit peak ovulation point so her sex drive it like, out of the roof??? so she goes to seek her husband for some relief but Tommy is in a really important meeting.
This has a lot of creative freedom so feel free to go down a a path you feel is write for this fic! As long as it's pretty smutty!
Thank you!!~ ♡
Hello! Thank you so much for the request, darling 🫶🏻💋 I really love the idea, thank YOU.
Husband's duty
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◇ Pairing: Thomas Shelby X wife!Reader
◇ Warnings: smut, roughness, marriage, breeding kink, creampie, kind of mean Tommy (?), mention of whores
◇ Summary: Y/n is on her fertile period and she is aching for her husband.
◇ Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.
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Thomas Shelby sat in his study, his gaze fixed on his brothers, Arthur and John, as he explained and analyzed that current situation and the possible threat that felt so close.
The handsome man was busy thinking as Arthur was talking when they heard a soft knock at the door of the room— he didn't even had the time to reply allowing the person to come in or just ask who it was because they just walked in, closing slowly and carefully the door behind them.
His piercing blue eyes stared softly at his wife who approched him in a shy way, a smile started to creep on his face
"Hm? What is it love?" He asked in a low tone as he lighted a cigarette, waiting for her reply that didn't came yet.
She just moved behind his desk-chair to wrap her arms around his thin ways, her face hidden in the crook of his neck as she breathed his scent in
"I’m busy love, in the middle of a meeting, yer knew that" Tommy murmured slightly annoyed by the interruption but not that bothered to stop his speech
"We’re gonna hit ‘em hard in the middle of the night, and show them that the Peaky fookin Blinders—" he stopped mid sentence when his wife nibbled at his sweet spot which was on his neck.
Y/n was really testing his patience now and she knew it but the need she was feeling in that moment made her rational thoughts leave completely.
"Love… I have important things I have to handle" Tommy warned her, not wanting to push her out himself; he was about to add another thing but got shushed by her sweet voice— Y/n was just whispering so John and Arthur could really hear what she was telling Tommy in his ear, luckily.
"I need you, Tommy"
Those 3 words followed by a pet name caught Tommy's attention, his gaze raised and darkened softly at the thought. He leaned back in his chair, and he stared into her eyes for a couple of seconds as if he had to reflect on what she had communicated to him
"And what do you need, eh?" He asked in a low voice, watching her with his icy blue eyes almost in a mocking way, thing that made her shy away a bit.
Y/n was clearly embarassed to share her needs with her brothers-in-law as well, she liked to keep her and Tommy's intimacy as private as possible, but deep down she knew that if she wanted something from her husband, in that moment, she should have asked like a good girl.
The realization didn't stop her face from heating up as she searched for the correct words to say it out loud but still with a shy voice— she turned more red when Tommy earged her to speak
"Come on, luv. Just say it" his tone was stern and she could feel his and his brothers' eyes on her
"I need....your husband's duty" she quickly said, nibbling on her bottom lip in a nervous and embarassed way while waiting for his answer.
Tommy's gaze remained on her, silence surrounded them before he interrupted it with his low bed voice
"Yer mean you’re in the mood, love? Is it time for your husband’s duty?" He repeated what she said with a teasing grin on his face, mocking her as he listened to her "excuse"
"It's that time of the period—" you quickly shared, watching him humming as he nodded slowly while he lighted a cigarette, taking a deep drag.
The mischievous grin not leaving his handsome face
"That time of the month, love?" he leaned closer and whispered "You mean the time where you act like a fucking whore around me?" He asked mockingly, hiding his excitement in front of his brothers that were still watching them— Y/n's eyes were on them as well as she apologized with her eyes before listening and looking back at her husband
"Come on love, let’s get outta here— give me a couple of minutes" he kind of ordered before leaving his office to head to the nearest room with you.
As soon as Y/n entered the room, Tommy locked it in a quick motion, he grabbed her roughly by the hair to pull her against his chest "what were you thinking, huh?" He growled in his wife's ear as his hips grinded against the curves of her ass.
She could feel his anger but by the hard rock boner that was pressed between her ass cheeks— she could also feel his lust.
His calloused hand pushed her down on the nearest surface, making her bend down at the perfect height for him to continue; Tommy moved up the skirt of Y/n's dress before harshly pulling her panties aside to shove his index finger in her wet hole, earning that way a loud whine from her.
He got her ready, getting her all wet so that his aching cock would be able to slip inside with ease— Tommy knew perfectly how the sex was during that period of the month of her wife where she reached the peak of ovulation, making her become a slut for his cock.
She would do anything for him and would let him do anything to her as long as he satisfied her.
That was actually the main reason because Tommy loved that period, her wetness always allowed him to snap his hips roughly, almost drilling inside of her as he fucked her as if he didn't loved her— as if she was just one of his former whores— even though his mouth kept whispering soft sweet praises and mocking comments.
His hips snapped against the skin of her ass, his cock kept moving in and out of her tight soaked pussy, causing Y/n to moan pornographically his name— her eyes rolled back, her head dropped on her arms and hands, which were holding into the surface for dear life.
Her mind was fucked by the rough treatment of her husband, she stopped understanding the things he was whispering against her skin while he breathed heavily without catching a break from his pace since he was reaching his peak as well.
A couple of thrusts and Tommy groaned louder, biting her shoulder as he increased the pace even if it started to become messier
"I'm so close— fuckk, yer so tight, luv" he preased sweetly, thrusting deeper than ever before stopping suddenly "Fuckin' filling yer with my seed" he declared, not leaving Y/n time to realize what he said since he shoot his load deep inside of her, filling her up with his cum as he pumped his softening cock inside of her hole— almost as if he wanted to make sure that all of his seed remained inside her in order to get her pregnant.
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Taglist:
@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @wife-of-magic-monkeys , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher , @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989
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zepskies · 2 months
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Headcanon: Teasing him under the table.
Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader
AN: This was requested by this lovely anon:
Could you please write an imagine or something of all three boys (Dean: love the plus-sized one-shots; Ben from BMD: love your interpretation of The Boys; and Beau) - and how would they react to their girlfriends giving them a footsie? 👀
I'm interpreting this as a "playing footsie" moment lol.
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Flirting, innuendo, and some smuttiness. (You know Ben. 🙄)
Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Ben would react to you teasing him under the table.
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Dean Winchester
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Because of the request, I had the Espresso-verse version of Dean and the reader in mind, but this can be general Dean x Reader too.
Dean is playful by nature. (AKA: a professional flirt.)
He enjoys working you up, but he enjoys it even more when you're confident enough to tease him back...even if it somehow always surprises him.
But he's been driving you crazy all damn day. Throughout the whole damn hunt.
Flirty smiles, suggestive quips masked as "innocent" remarks, brief touches to your arm, the small of your back, guiding you by your hip, a thumb swiping under your shirt and against your skin, lightly pressing into your curves...
It's all "normal," except for the deeper, suggestively teasing glint in his eyes.
He's in a good mood, and he wants you to know it.
And it's all in front of Sam, who knows the game you two are playing. Sometimes he smiles in both amusement and fondness, and he looks away to allow you guys your moment. Sometimes he rolls his eyes, or just tries to ignore it when he's had enough of you two eye-fucking in plain sight.
Dean knows what his touch does to you, but you know one or two of his weaknesses too...
When the hunt is finally over, the three of you find the closest diner to the motel you're staying at.
Dean orders the greasiest burger you've ever seen. He also teases Sam for already looking for the next case with his laptop at the table.
Dean glances over, his lips starting to curve as he licks a bit of burger juice off his fingers. He looks at you dead in the eyes while he sucks his digits clean.
He's equal parts noisy and disgusting. But damn him, your hand tightens around your glass of water. Your lips press together, and so do your legs. You nudge his foot with your boot and raise your brows. Stop it.
He pouts, and he nudges your foot right back. Make me.
You tilt your head at him. Adopting a certain smile, you slide your foot across the floor, under the table, and graze his calf with the side of your boot.
Dean's lips twitch. Sam is seemingly oblivious as he continues researching on his laptop.
Your foot travels higher up Dean's leg, up the inside of his thigh. You only gasp a little when he suddenly reaches down and grabs your ankle. His resulting smirk is salacious, even as he challenges you with his eyes. What're you gonna do now?
You contemplate exactly that, when his brother's voice startles you.
"Can you guys do me a favor and quit it?" Sam asks. He doesn't even look up from his laptop. "At least wait until we get home."
You bite your lip and blush. Both you and Dean fight harder smiles at being caught.
"No one likes a killjoy, Sammy," Dean remarks. Sam just sends his brother a dry look.
Dean's amusement remains. He taps on your ankle in contemplation, but after a moment, he lets you go. He grabs his phone and texts you under the table.
"Quickie out back?"
You grimace, then you text him back.
"Gross, babe. There are things I promised myself I'd never do in a public bathroom."
"So...meet you in 5? Come on, I'll do that thing you like. 😈"
His stupid grin, his stupid face, his long fingers tapping on the tabletop (somehow, even that is suggestive). It all eventually breaks you down.
"...Ugh, fine," you reply. You slide out of your chair first. But as you walk past him, you let your fingers brush down his neck — in a way that always makes a little shiver run down his spine. You smirk in satisfaction as you walk away.
He might've started it, but you could damn well finish it.
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Beau Arlen
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Oh, my dear cowboy sheriff...
Beau is also a jokester. He takes his work and the people in his life seriously, but he likes to keep things "loose." Perhaps it's a coping mechanism, but it's mostly just his way of going through life.
Tonight, however, is a tense dinner with your parents, Beau, Emily, and his parents that are visiting from Houston.
It's a nice steakhouse, more high scale than you or Beau are used to, but your parents insisted on it. Beau's parents are good-natured and full of southern charm. They're just happy to see their son and granddaughter, let alone meet his girlfriend for the first time.
The night is only tense because, as much as you love your parents, they're not sure about you dating a man with such a dangerous job.
They also have a thing about appearances, and the fact that he's divorced and has a child who isn't yours, and frankly, all the things you don't give a rat's ass about.
Your back is ramrod straight in your chair (there's a tightness in your spine that comes every time your mom taps you on the hand with her fork to remind you not to slouch).
You can't even really taste what you're eating, because you're too focused on making sure your parents don't say anything insulting to Beau and his family.
Then a boot taps against your open-toed heel. You glance over at your boyfriend, and he's already wearing a smile. He gives you a teasing wink as he eats a forkful of mashed potatoes.
Your stress begins to melt, just like that. God, this man.
You smile back at him and take a calming sip of wine. Your mom begins to talk about her upcoming tupperware party. Your smile deepens, but not because of that.
You playfully tap your foot on Beau's without looking at him.
You feel his discreet stare on the side of your face, but you pretend to be invested in your mom's conversation about tupperware. (I mean really, I thought those parties went extinct. Apparently, not in the Midwest.)
Beau's foot nudges yours back. You hook your toes under the hem of his pant leg, inching it up and up...
He retaliates with a hand drifting down your thigh, over the skirt of your dress. He grabs just above your knee and squeezes. Your leg jerks up on reflex, and your knee hits under the table hard enough to rattle the silverware, making you yelp.
The whole table looks over at you in both surprise and concern. (Your mother more in disapproval.)
Beau bites his lip against a deeper smile.
"You okay there, baby?" he asks.
"Sorry, my foot slipped," you lie through a tight smile. When you turn to him, your eyes narrow a fraction, promising retribution. You grab his hand tightly, but he just uses the motion to bring yours up to his lips.
Beau looks forward to whatever you plan to dish out next, as long as you wait until after dessert.
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Soldier Boy (Ben)
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Aw hell, this guy. 😂 I'm imagining BMD-verse Ben for this one...
Ben has a decent sense of humor, but he doesn't often like to be teased.
He'd rather be respected.
But you love to tease him anyway.
You also know his "limits," but it doesn't stop you from figuratively tap dancing all over them when you have the opportunity. You're slowly but surely trying to get him to loosen up.
Sometimes though, it bites you in the ass.
Like tonight, when you've gotten him to come with you to a Broadway show. You two have your own private booth on the second floor balcony. (He likes the privacy, and it's safer for you, as he's argued.)
20 minutes in, and you can already tell he's gotten bored. To be fair, it's a drama that's admittedly a bit dry and slow. You don't want him to walk out before the intermission, so you start to hatch an idea...
Your legs are crossed, and you draw your high-heel slowly against the side of his foot. When he glances over you, you pretend to be invested in the show. Your arms are crossed over your black dress that falls to mid-thigh. Your jacket is draped across your lap.
You brush the thin point of your heel across the top of his shoe, then inch it up under his pant leg, higher and higher.
Until Ben's hand finally grabs hold of your knee. Biting your lip, you turn to him with a smile.
"Do you mind? I'm watching the show," you tell him. He allows you to peel his hand of your leg and place it back in his lap. You cross your legs in the opposite direction.
Ben raises his brows. His lips twitch slightly, but he seems to acquiesce, relaxing back in his seat.
For a while, you actually watch the play. You become invested in the story and the characters by the time it gets halfway through Act 1.
That's when you feel a strong hand slowly slip down your thigh and between your legs, slowly rucking up the skirt of your dress.
You try to stifle a gasp as you look over at Ben. He doesn't meet your hot stare, but his hand is certainly on the move, covered by your jacket. He brushes against your panties.
Against your better judgment, you let him spread your legs wider. A smile finally crosses his face. His fingers hook around your underwear and brush between your folds. You let out a shaky breath and shift in your seat.
You know you should stop him, but you can't help the warm coil of arousal starting pool in your lower belly, and between your legs. Ben feels it with a smirk. His fingers find your clit with ease.
"Ben," you gasp, warning him in a heated whisper.
He leans over and presses a raspy kiss to your neck, thanks to his beard.
"Perks of a private room," he says. His voice is a low rumble in your ear.
You start to shake your head. You know you started this, but you also know him. This has the potential to go off the rails very quickly.
"This isn't a room. We're on a damn balcony," you breathe out, even as his fingers continue to work you over. You bite your lip to stifle a moan. "Anyone could—"
"Who gives a fuck?" Ben says gruffly.
As usual, his raunchy brand of logic (and his talented hands) manage to persuade you to give in.
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AN: lol I had fun with this one. Let me know what you think! 💜
Dean Winchester Imagines
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Big Sky Masterlist
Soldier Boy Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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Dean, Beau + SB Tag List (Part 1)
@melancholictearz @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman
@iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup
@jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @roseblue373 @lacilou @jackles010378 @waywardxwords @mrsjenniferwinchester
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kuromiisanton · 2 months
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 ✩How NCT Dream lets you know they're in the mood✩
genre. Explicit / suggestive
warnings. !SMUTTY! Mentions of sexual intercourse. mentions of oral. palming oneself. grinding. manipulation(?). 
paring. Nct dream x fem!reader 
Mark
 He would definitely try and act as if he’s not in the mood. Just sitting there acting like nothings going on… at first. The longer he tries to act that he doesn’t need you, the more fidgety he would get. He would try and give you little hints; hand on your thigh rubbing back and forth, tiny kisses here and there, trying to attract your eyes to the growing bulge in his pants. Finally he gets so frustrated that you're not picking up on the hints that he finally just puts your hand on top of his crotch so you can feel how much he needs you and gives you a look full of lust and love.
Renjun
 He’s actually so sassy about it. Like he acts as if you did it to him on purpose (you lowkey highkey did). How were you supposed to know wearing the new jeans that fit you oh so perfectly would do this to him? He would stare at you for the longest time trying to get your attention so he can drag you away to a secluded place in the restaurant, but you just keep ignoring him and talking to your friends. He would go up and compliment you saying “darling, those jeans look really good on you.” and he would be so touchy; grabbing your waist, rubbing up and down. He eventually whispers to you how much he likes those new jeans on you and to come with him. “Flower, can you feel what you did to me?  Those jeans make me want to do so many things to you.” You and Renjun disappeared for a while after that.
Jeno
 Honestly this could go one or two ways. He would just outright tell you how much he wants you and would drag you to the bedroom or. He would get a little shy about it… after all you were only laying on the couch scrolling on your phone. He would get really cuddly and would kiss you so much. Like you would be cuddling on the couch and he would slowly start kissing your neck and eventually would start grinding his bulge on your ass. Groaning every once in a while from the friction until he gets more and more needy to where he flips you onto your back, slowly trailing his hands up and down your upper thigh until he finally cups your heat showing what he truly needs.
Haechan
 So whiny about it. Like there's not really a subtle way of him telling you he's in the mood… he would straight up walk up to you and grind his hardening length against your front side in the kitchen. He would whine and beg for you to come to bed with him to “cuddle”. He would be saying things like “please baby… I need you so bad, it hurts so much” and" baby, only you can make me feel good…only you can fix this”. He would start slowly massaging your boobs as he grinds into you and kissing your neck while moaning breathlessly into your ear. You would eventually let him take you to the bedroom for… cuddling.
Jaemin
 He’s a little devil about it. You would be working on papers for work when he gets that feeling. The feeling only you, his pretty little angel could fix… He would sit behind you on the couch watching you work hard on everything you need to finish for your deadlines. He would be manspreading behind you with the sweatpants you love on him so much and would slowly start palming himself over his sweats. He eventually lets quiet grunts and groans out of his lips and when you turn around he continues while telling you “no no angel, keep working. Focus.” he can start to see you rubbing your thighs together and sending glances towards him. That’s when he knows he has you where he wants you. 
Chenle
 Biggest tease out there. He would somehow manipulate you into thinking you were in the mood first??? like it was a simple makeout session occurring until he feels himself starting to grow hard beneath you. Like the  silver tongue he is, he would start saying things like  “Oh, does my baby need more?” “Do you deserve it? I thought you just wanted some kisses but you just can't help yourself can you?” literally gaslight, gatekeep, zhong chenle. He eventually gets you to where you start admitting how much you need to be touched and he knows that you are convinced you wanted him first, but little did you know that he needed you the moment he had seen you that night. 
Jisung
 Isn’t really sure how to make you realize he is in the mood. Should he just start kissing you? Does he show you he’s hard? Just outright tell you? He really doesn’t know… stares at you for a while hoping you will somehow get the message telepathically or something. When you realize he has been staring at you, you turn to him and smile. That smile made Jisung feel as if he was going to die if he couldn’t  taste you right then and there. You are still looking at him and smiling when he glances down towards the crotch of his pants where the growing bulge is visible from a mile away. He speaks in a whisper “please… I can't take it much longer. I need to taste you so bad” when he see’s you give him the green light he's immediately in front of your parted legs getting a hundred times harder than he originally was…
a/n: requests are open
©kuromiisanton, all rights reserved.
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sinsandsweetness · 3 months
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cw- smutty stuff, free use concept but very much consensual (Rick x reader mostly but all of the boys x reader mentioned too)
note- small blurb that’s totally not proofread, and will probably edit at another time. haven’t written in a few weeks so feeling rusty… feedback is apreciated or just general commentary ofc. have been in a really lovey, gentle, sweet smut mood lately so this is what ur getting sorry. don’t know why I’m so obsessed with reader being a form of escape but… ya. enjoy:)
Been having the filthiest thoughts about being the community free use slut. Everyone using you to relieve some stress. Yes, you read that right; everyone. You’re their perfect little plaything that will never say no. That just gets on her knees and takes it. No matter when or where.
It starts way at the beginning, with Shane and Daryl and Merle. Them taking turns dragging you to their tents, late at night when everyone else is asleep. Sometimes it’s just one of them, but other times they share. Take you at the same time and fill as many holes as they can. Leave you with the faintest blue and purple marks scattered all over your neck for the rest of the group to squint at in the morning. To gossip and whisper about over breakfast. Your berry stained lips and innocent eyes reminding them all of a pretty little doll they seem to treat you like.
And then you get to the prison, where things are tense, and discover that your… well, intimate service are needed more than ever. Acting as the only acceptable vice for the group to take their frustrations out on, in what you would describe as a relatively healthy way. At least considering the alternative. So while Rick is losing his mind and you’re already sharing a cell, he decides to try what a few of his friends have been doing right from the start. Using your pretty mouth as the escape they claim that works so well.
And he’s pleasantly surprised at the fact you’re more than willing. To let him urge you into the cell way before the sun has set. To let him drag you down to his bunk in the middle of the night where he doesn’t waste any time peeling your sleep shorts off in a mess of tangled sheets and blankets. And the whole time he’s with you, your lips burn hot as they trail down his neck and nip at newly sunburnt skin. You kiss him without thinking and your tongue tastes like toothpaste and bad decisions as it traces over his own and your hands seem to know the exact spots that have him pushing his jeans down to his ankles in almost shameful, record breaking time. But he doesn’t seem to mind because most importantly, having you right beneath him in the dim lit concrete cell, means that his mind, even just momentarily, is finally blank. For a few minutes, as long as you keep bringing your lips back to meet his, he has nothing to worry about. No crying newborn baby, no walkers, no fast spreading diseases or quarantines or mysterious unsolved murders. Nothing. Well, except the volume at which your pretty little moans are crawling their way up your chest and taunting your next door cell mates.
It’s when he finally has your legs wrapped around his waist and you’re so fucking warm and holy shit you’re wet, and your hands won’t leave his shoulders and your nails are scratching and raking down his back in the most pleasurable burn he could ever imagine… that, that is when it comes to him. When he finally fucking get’s it.
He understands exactly why every time it came to going on a run or splitting the group up, Daryl was always first to claim you as his partner. Why Shane was so obsessed with fixing some damn watch he found you so you could meet him out behind the barn or on the edge of the woods wearing nothing but a sundress and a smile, not a minute later then midnight. He even understood why Merle was acting uncharacteristically nicer to you than anyone else as he pouted and paced around his cell, begging for all kinds of attention but only really wanting the one. The one that was proving to be completely and irrationally addictive the more Rick thought about it. The more he focused on your skin under his hands and how sweet your voice sounded when you could no longer form a coherent sentence.
While he catches his breath, arms still wrapped around your waist, he can feel your legs trembling on either side of him as your hands continue to cup his face ever so gently. He doesn’t even open his eyes when you lean in to bite his lip and drag it out slowly before peppering sweet, meaningless kisses all down his jaw, neck and shoulders. It’s then, when your touch is making the back of his neck tingle and his breath hitch in his throat that he can’t help but feel like he’s been missing out. A whole year of this that the other guys have been experiencing? It doesn’t really seem fair. Not now that he’s had a taste. Now that he knows exactly why every man you’ve encountered since the world went to shit, has taken such an extreme and undeniable liking to you. Not now that he feels like he has to make up for lost time, pressing his forehead against yours and rocking himself back into you for the second time that night. You don’t object. You just spread your legs even further and pull at the damp curls at the base of his neck, silently urging him to keep on moving.
You don’t mind being used. Not really. It’s what you’re there for. To distract him from the horrors of the world and remind him that there’s still at least one thing worth living for. Even if it’s just a warm body in a shared bottom bunk. You’re there to ensure that the scowl lines on his face soften and his eyes close in pure, unfocused elation while he forces your hips even deeper into the mattress with involuntary moan that escapes your lips.
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Note
would you write Eddie x reader where he's like, dropping everyone off at night and reader is last, when the kids are gone she takes her bra off because it was definitely hurting her aaaaand Eddie notices that she's got pierced nipples? NO NEED to make it smutty if u don't feel like it, just curious about his reaction? lol thanks <3
reader is 18 in this, and obviously, minors dni!
———————
Another fun evening was had at Hellfire Club, and you & Eddie were ready to wind down at your place. He dropped some of the other members off at home first, and your house was the last stop on his tour. Eddie had been your close friend since you were eight and he was ten, and you did everything together: D&D, drama club at school, drugs, booze, you name it. Every chance you got, the two of you were always together—usually getting into some drug- or booze-induced shenanigans. When you weren’t doing that, you were doing the exact thing you were doing tonight, which was going home to chill out together on the couch or in your room.
You loved being around Eddie, and it far exceeded just friendship for you. The thing was, you had always harbored a little crush on him, from the moment you’d met him all those years ago. In fact, for the last few years, that crush had turned into all-out love. He didn’t know, of course; you would rather gouge your own eyes out with a hot poker than ever tell him and risk losing him.
You & Eddie sat in your living room, with the TV on and drinking beer that Eddie had smuggled into the house. There was a show that neither of you were paying attention to, some kind of weird sitcom that was neither of your tastes. You were sitting close together, as usual, practically cuddling as you mindlessly took in the show and drank. Your parents were upstairs, probably in bed or watching TV themselves, but they didn’t come down to greet you when they heard you return home. Since their car was outside, it told you they probably turned in for the night. That left you & Eddie completely alone, which could be either a good or bad thing, depending on the mood the two of you got into.
Things started off innocently enough. The two of you discussed the new campaign, how your classes were going, what your weekend plans were, all the usual topics. You were digging around your chest almost the entire time, trying to fix the discomfort that your bra was causing. It always annoyed you to wear one, but you had to; without it, your nipple piercings were going to be extremely noticeable, and you couldn’t have that in school. Nothing helped, and short of taking it off, you had no relief whatsoever. But it was becoming ever clearer that removing it is exactly what needed to be done, with no other choices available.
Eddie is in the middle of talking about his favorite part of the campaign when you do it. You unclasp the bra under your shirt, sliding your arms into the sleeves to remove the straps, before pulling it from the bottom of your shirt. Eddie stops talking and watches you closely, his doe eyes wide in surprise as he sees the bra land on the coffee table. His eyes trail back to you, but they don’t find your face again. They are transfixed on your chest, and on the unmistakable impressions of nipple piercings that are pressing against the fabric of your Hellfire Club shirt. He swallows thickly, running a hand over his cheek as he tries so hard to look away. You chuckle, unable to help it, and he turns his gaze with a light blush dusting his cheeks.
“It’s okay if you noticed,” you say. “They’re kinda hard to miss when they aren’t in the bra.”
“I…” he says, swallowing again as he finds your eyes. “I didn’t mean to seem like some kind of fucking perv. I guess I'm just more surprised than anything else. Why didn’t you ever tell me that you got them pierced?”
“I guess I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” you say, glancing at your chest. “I haven’t had them pierced for long. They’ve healed nicely, but sometimes they’re still a little sore.”
“Well, they seem very….um….” Eddie began, and you could tell that he was clearly flustered. “They seem nice. Probably got someone good to pierce them, huh? I hear those can be really hard to do.”
“Yeah, the guy who pierced them did a good job,” you say, and you can sense a shift in Eddie at the mention of another man. His jaw and fists clench, and he looks to the floor. You laugh, reaching over to run your fingers through his hair. “Aw, what’s the matter, Eddie? Are you jealous that another guy got to see my tits?”
“No,” he says, but he’s lying. You can always tell; after ten years of friendship, it wasn’t as if he could fool you. “I’m not.”
“Mmm hmm,” you say, then teasingly add: “You know, I’ll let you see them, if you want to.”
Eddie nearly chokes on the drink of beer he had just taken, and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand after thumping his chest. “Sorry, but I’m going to need you to repeat that. I need to make sure I heard you correctly.”
“I said,” you repeat, brushing some hair back from his shoulder before ghosting those fingertips over his neck, “you can see the piercings, if you want to.”
“I don’t want it to be weird,” Eddie says, looking at you and leaning closer into your touch. “Will it be weird?”
“Only if you make it weird,” you say, your hand on the back of his neck and tangling into his hair. “It’s just boobs, Eddie. I’m sure you’ve seen your fair share.”
“Well, yeah,” Eddie says with a soft smile. “But these are yours. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying no. As long as you swear this won’t ruin anything between us, or make it awkward.”
“I don’t think it will,” you say, reaching for the hem of your shirt and slowly lifting it. “You can always change your mind before I get it hiked up, though. Tell me if you do, okay?”
He nods quickly, pulling the corner of his lip into his teeth. You keep moving the shirt up little by little, until your breasts are fully exposed to him. Eddie sucks in a breath, his eyes unable to leave them. He took in the shape of them, the way your nipples looked, and how the piercings gleamed in the lamplight of the living room. His breath caught, and he exhaled in the form of a shaky “fuck.” You laugh a little, biting your own lip as you watch him admiring your chest. You can tell that he’s enjoying it, and that whatever worries he had about this being awkward were long gone. In the front of his jeans, you could see the unmistakable outline of a forming erection.
“What do you think?” you ask, smirking.
“They look fantastic,” Eddie says, his eyes still taking in your breasts. “And I guess the piercings are nice, too.”
You laugh a little louder at that, and feel even more boldness coming over you. “Do you wanna touch them? You can, if you want to; I won’t mind.”
Eddie’s eyes flickered to your face, and they widened again. “I can?”
“Sure,” you say, taking one of his hands in your free one. “Here. I’ll show you that I’m not kidding.”
You place his hand over your right breast, and he hisses at the contact with your skin. His lips part, his brown eyes already filling with lust as he kneads experimentally on your skin. You whimper pleasurably under his rough palm, feeling a rush of heat in your cunt as a response. He mewls softly, taking his other hand and placing it on the opposite breast. He ghosts his thumbs over the nipples, against the piercings and your sensitive skin, and you cry out at the touch. Ever since getting them pierced, the sensitivity in them had increased tenfold, and that little brush of his thumbs nearly had you up the wall with pleasure.
“Eddie…” you sigh, squeezing your thighs together to dull the throbbing ache that was settling between them.
“Are you okay?” he asks, looking at you worriedly. “Do you need me to stop?”
“God, no,” you say with a breathless chuckle. “Please don’t stop.”
He gives them a light pinch, and when he sees you reacting positively, he does it a little harder. You grab onto his arm, moaning and biting your lip to quiet yourself a little. The last thing you needed was for one or both of your parents to hear, and come down to investigate. Eddie massages circles onto your nipples, before cupping your tits and pressing them together, massaging them, and bringing his face close to them. He looks up at you through bangs and lashes, smirking as he does so. His lips travel from your breastbone to your stomach, and then back up, his eyes never leaving you for a moment. More wetness starts pooling in your panties, and they cling to you as his soft, plump lips continue pressing your skin.
“You know,” he says, nuzzling his way between your breasts before leaving hard, open mouthed kisses on your sternum. You tangle a hand in his hair, head tipped back as you moan hotly. “Not trying to sound like a creep, but I always knew you had some amazing fucking tits.”
You laugh, and that boldness from before takes over again. “Oh yeah? Well, I always thought your dick would look fucking amazing pressed between them, or just rubbing on them, or a combination of both. Whatever you would prefer.”
He shivers violently at that, groaning against your skin. “Fuck, y/n…”
He wraps the tip of his tongue around one nipple, still looking at you as he does so. You meet his gaze with a shiver, pushing some hair from his eyes as his tongue swirls the metal of the piercing. “I’ll bet you would love to cum all over them, wouldn’t you? Seeing me with it all over my tits, maybe even on my chin and tongue if you’re the type of guy who can really shoot one off.”
“Jesus, that’s…” Eddie breathes, giving your other nipple the same treatment. “That’s hot as shit.”
“Wanna do it?” you ask, and he shivers again. You can feel his cock, hard and throbbing in his pants, against your leg. “I think you do; the thought of it is getting you rock. Fucking. Hard. Isn’t it?”
“Yes, fuck,” Eddie hisses, pulling your nipple between his lips and sucking rapidly. He tugs it in his teeth, and you moan loudly, clamping your lips shut to keep silent. He toys with the other one, two fingers pinching the nipple & playing with the piercing. He draws back to look up at you, one hand settling on your waist as he tries to pull you closer to his body. “How does it feel? Does it still feel good?”
“Mmm hmm,” you breathe, grinning at him. “It feels so good, Eddie. You wanna know how good?”
“Yeah,” he says with a quick nod as he moves over to the other nipple for equal treatment.
“I’m so wet right now,” you say, your nails grazing his scalp as your hand deeply embeds in his long brown hair. “Mmm…I really want you to see just how fucking wet.”
“Please, let me see,” he practically whines, his lips pressing all over your chest in desperation as he ruts against your thigh. “Or let me touch you, or anything you want. Please, fuck…”
“Hang on,” you say, unbuttoning your pants and taking his hand. You guide it inside your drenched panties, where he groans at the feeling of your warm, wet pussy. “Feel that? You’re doing that to me, Eddie. It’s all you.”
“Goddammit,” he breathes, bucking himself harder against your leg with a low moan. He circles a finger around your entrance, before moving to your clit. You shiver and mewl as he rubs circles against the small bundle of nerves, head falling back again. He rapidly flicks his tongue over one of the piercings, before pressing the tip of his finger inside of you as an experiment. “I’ll bet your pussy tastes fucking incredible, and I’ll also bet that you would feel good squeezing around my cock.”
You groan filthily at his touch, chuckling as his free hand plays with your breast. You pull his head up by his hair, gazing into his eyes for a moment before kissing along his cheek, his jaw, and finally reaching his ear. Your teeth tug the lobe, a smirk on your lips as you whisper: “Why don’t you take me upstairs and find out?”
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thedevilspearl · 10 months
Text
keep that mouth full, baby — older brothers
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a/n: time to finally satisfy my oral fixation and give you guys some more self–indulgent, smutty goodness. today’s edition is mc giving the older brother’s a blowjob while they are busy with other things.
tags: 0.9k words, blowjobs (obviously), oral fixation, no gender specified, reader x lucifer, mammon + leviathan.
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𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐅𝐄𝐑
the dim lighting in lucifer’s office certainly sets the mood. you wonder how he is capable of not straining his aged eyes while reading through his paperwork, but you assume he opted for quiet lighting so you wouldn’t notice how flustered his face is.
not that you have a good view of his face under his desk. but still, if anyone would go so far to hide their blushing face from the person they love, it would be lucifer.
it’s not something to complain about. the small compartment under his desk is more than cosy given that lucifer plopped a few cushions and a blanket under there before you surrendered your mouth to his aching cock.
for hours, you’ve sat between his legs with only a small gap to peak up at him while his cock sits on your tongue. every now and then, you’d stroke him, slowly dragging his length in and out of your mouth before resting your tired head against his thigh. you’d feel his muscles clench as you bring him right to the edge before maliciously decide to stop, feigning fatigue.
lucifer brings his gloved hand below, running fingers through your locks to comfort you while imagining yanking them and using your mouth like a toy to get off. but his fantasies stay well within his mind because there is no way he can wade his way through the mountain of paperwork without the warmth from your mouth on him.
teasing and edging aside, his burning skin and shallow pants motivate him to finish his work faster, so he can have you all to himself. he’s holding in his orgasm because when he does give in, he wants to give his all to you with undivided attention.
it’s torture — cruel, yet comforting. but lucifer can’t function without it, without you.
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𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍
you’ve been through many an attempt to force mammon to finish his homework on time, or at all, for that matter. but nothing has worked quite as well as this.
it started as a promise — finish your homework and i’ll give you a blowjob. anyone could imagine how quickly he got it done, but no one would imagine him scoring full marks. and that’s how you discovered pleasing the greedy demon’s huge cock was the best way to improve his grades.
mammon begs you to help him with his homework, and you know he doesn’t need help, he needs your mouth.
it’s become such a common occurrence that your jaw begins to ache every time you hear the word homework. and yet, you don’t find a reason to stop because you are just as greedy as the avatar of greed. you’ve become addicted to the feeling of his cock filling your mouth.
he hisses as your tongue runs along his length.
“fuck….” he whimpers. “your mouth is so filthy, but so fucking good.”
he throws his head back and you take him whole into your mouth, bobbing your head back and forth until you can take as much of his length as possible, and use your fist to pump the rest of him. he is so overtaken by bliss that he thrusts his hips, but you don’t allow him the privilege of control.
“ngh, mammon,” you gasp, pulling away with a string of saliva connecting you to his cock. “don’t get ahead of yourself. you’re not allowed to cum until you finish your homework.”
he reluctantly picks up his pen while his cock twitches in your mouth. deep groans escape him and you continue salivating all over his cock, sucking even harder.
“hurry up,” you whine. “i want your cum all over my tongue.”
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𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍
once again, leviathan has been locked in his room for hours. you expected it; he just bought the new video game he wanted for so long and now….well, right now, he cares more about the stupid game than you.
but you won’t have it.
levi is so engrossed in his game that he doesn’t notice you entering his room, or you stripping naked, or you crawling past his feet and into the little nook under his gaming desk.
you’re just about ready to slap him across the face just so he would notice you, but you turn the frustration into motivation. your fingers trace his ankles all the way up his calves, tickling his sensitive skin a shiver wakes him up from his intense gaming trance.
surprised from the sudden touch, he rolls his chair back, giving you enough room to pop out from underneath.
“mc, what are you do–” his eyes rake over your form, finally realising your naked form. “w–what are you doing there? like that ?”
his cheeks burn red and you smile at him teasingly, running your hands all over your body and watching his brain malfunction from the teasing.
“like this? levi….i wanted to see you for so long. but you’ve been playing yoir new game.” you pout. “but it’s okay. you can keep playing and i’ll stay under here.”
“is that—mmh!” he cuts himself off with a moan as you grab his cock, fondling it and pulling it out of his pants. the poor demon is so touch deprived that his cock grows hard in so little time, and you waste no more putting it in your mouth.
“keep playing,” your order is muffled by his cock, and his fingers spasm over his controller buttons, pressing all the wrong ones because the warmth and tightness from your mouth have him hooked immediately, and his game is long forgotten. “good boy.”
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 5 months
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I request anything and everything Xaden Riorson please, fluffy or smutty or both! 🥰🥰🥰
Late night hours
It was late and Xaden knew that he shouldn't be dragging his feet through the quiet corridors but there was not a single part of him that cared anymore. His head was pounding and oddly enough his muscles ached. Riding never tired him out so much beforehand. But then the past couple of days had been filled with endless patrol. The first years weren't fit enough to help so the fourth years had to do double the work and if you added training and classes on top of that...
You're fusing like a baby. Sgaeyl spoke in Xaden's mind, sounding utterly unimpressed. She was in a mood too. Tairn had to stay back to train, meaning the two mates had to separate, and well, that was a receipt for a broody dragon. Xaden let out a breath of relief as he finally reached the floor his room was set. Starting to undo his flying leathers. The corridor echoed with his heavy footsteps. You'll wake the girl, you idiot. Sgaeyl snared and that was enough to make Xaden slow his pace and calculate his movements.
The thought of you had been the only thing keeping him up right in the saddle today. The only thing that made him want to come back. Xaden carefully unlocked the door, pushing it open. And all it took was one look for all the frustration to come to an end. The corners of his lips turned upwards on their own. Here you were. Sprawled out beneath his black sheets. Clinging to his pillow as you softly snored. Xaden never thought he could love something so simple so much but watching you sleep had turned out to be one of his favorite things to do when his mind grew busy.
He moved to sit at the side of the bed, fingers reaching out to you desperately as he carefully pushed some of the loose pieces of your hair away from your face. The scent of it. Light almonds and caramel filling Xaden sense. You're down bad, boy, Sgaeyl endearingly pureed in Xaden's head. Yet Xaden still rolled his eyes, Says you who fussed all day about breaking laws so you could snuggle with your man, Xaden bit back. He heard his dragon let out a huff as if she was trying to deny it but they both knew that Xaden's words struck true.
"Hey", a quiet, sleepy voice made Xaden look down instantly. Your tired eyes watched him, the biggest smile painting your lips, "You're late. What time is it?", you frowned slightly, turning to look for the clock but Xaden beat you to it, "Past four".
You let out a gasp, shuffling to sit up, earning a growl from Xaden because he didn't want you to chase your sleep away. You needed to rest. "Did something happen? Why did it take so long", your eyes looked his whole body over. Light frown settling on your face. "I'm not hurt", Xaden said as his hand slipped under the blanket so he could run his hand over your bare thigh, "One of the riders got lost in the storm. I had to find him". You hummed at his words, leaning closer to him. The warmth of your fingers soothed all the aches in Xaden's body almost immediately.
"Go, take a shower", you muttered, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. It was too short. Too quick. But when Xaden leaned in once more you pushed away, "Darling, I love you but you stink", you giggled softly, making Xaden's head hang low as he too let out a chuckle. "You won't make an exception for me?", he questioned, pressing down on your thigh more firmly. But you shook your head, "I don't let stinky boys into my bed", Xaden huffed, "It's my bed, princess". You rolled your eyes at his words and Xaden quietly caught your face in his much bigger palm, crashing his lips to yours. It was messy. There was nothing sweet to it. He needed it like air. Like a lighthouse to guide him back home. You returned it with just as much passion because you knew that he needed it and when you broke apart the look in Xaden's eyes was less haunted.
He doubted he spent longer than ten minutes in his shower. Enough time to scrub off the grime but he had no desire to stand there when nothing warmed him more than having you in his arms. When Xaden stepped back into his room he, however, was met with you neatly folding his clothes. His sleeping pants already rested on the side of the bed. But that wasn't the only thing that Xaden's eyes fell upon. There was a full mean, steaming on the bedside table. "Where did you get that from?", he questioned as he dropped the towel, reaching for his pants. "I had a feeling you would come late with an empty stomach", you only hummed in return, ushering him to the plate. "Who told you I haven't eaten?", he tore the side of the bread off, nearly moaning at the taste. "You suck at taking care of yourself", you said simply, leaning against his back. That she is not wrong about a whisper. Get out of my head, Xaden growled in return. "Let me guess, Sgaeyl agrees", you chuckled slightly. "Don't start, sometimes I think she even scowls at me the same way you do", Xaden breathed, earning yet another laugh from you.
The silence fell after that and only when the plates were clean did Xaden mutter, "We're skipping today's classes". You watched him with big eyes, "Who said that?", "I did, they start in three hours and I..", he stopped mid-sentence to stand up before scooping you up in his arms, "Need you in our bed". You let out a giggle. "It doesn't work like that", you chuckled as the soft duvet hugged your body. "I'm your wing leader aren't I? So, that's an order", Xaden crawled onto your body, plopping down on your chest. Arms wrapping around your middle as he settled between your legs. "You didn't just pull rank on me, Riorson", you shook your head, fingers moving to brush through his hair, earning a hum from Xaden. "I did and you love it", he said lazily, eyes already closed as he listened to your heartbeat. You leaned over to kiss his forehead a couple of times before closing your eyes as well.
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hi!! can i request a miguel x jealous reader? this has been stuck in my head for quite some time now..
it is no question that spiderman 2099 was hot, even if the people of nueva york haven't seen his face.. his huge frame and voice will of course gain him some fans. one day, reader overhears a group of young highschoolers, fangirling about spiderman 2099 and how hot he was. even showing off some pictures and videos to each other.
of course, reader feels proud since spiderman 2099 is their husband. but also can't help but feel jealous knowing that others also want miguel. they push it down though since getting jealous over a bunch of highschoolers was silly.
however, reader is more bothered about it than they thought and miguel eventually notices their sour mood. after some denying and coaxing, miguel finally gets them to spill the beans. he is extremely amused, and even finds it a little funny. however, he's still going to reassure reader that he is only theirs like the great husband he is.. 🥰 ending can be smutty or fluffy, up to you!!! ❤️
hii!! sorry for the hold up for this. this is cute I love it!! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌
SUBTLE ENVY
miguel o’hara x f!reader
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word count. 644
There was no doubt that Spider-Man 2099 was the talk of the town - his towering, masculine physique often the main focal point. When you'd overhear strangers on the street conversing about the masked menace, your husband, you'd be overgrown with pride - listening in on their encounters of being saved by him.
Many things made you feel proud to know Spider-Man so personally - to know the real man under the suit and mask. Though, some things about the title of the wife aren't as easy to stomach.
Daily, you'd see hundreds of comments online about how handsome your husband is - see fan-made videos and edits with questionable captions. For the most part, you enjoyed them. You loved to watch clips and compilations of the man you love, loved to see how liked and appreciated he is by the people of Nueva York. 
However, sometimes the comments would get the best of you. You'd see teenage girls swooning over him online - talking about how they wish to replace his wife. At first, they were small, inconsequential remarks, but over time, they changed how you saw yourself. They made you question if you were good enough for Miguel. You kept your issue to yourself - deciding your husband had enough on his plate and didn't need you complaining about something you could easily ignore.
You kept your problem hidden until one afternoon at your local coffee shop; you overheard a group of high school girls talk about what they would do if they had a minute alone with Spider-Man 2099. What they said should've easily rolled off your back, should've been something that you laugh off, something you silently agreed with, but no. They caught you in a vulnerable mood where you were sensitive to their infatuation, already feeling insecure, and all you could do was leave the queue and head home.
You return to your apartment and change into something comfy, slumping onto the sofa with a blanket wrapped around you. You put on your show and cosy up.
"Cariño?" Miguel calls out from his office doorway. "I thought I heard you," his tone warm and comforting as he kisses your cheek from behind. "How was your day?"
"Good," you absentmindedly reply, keeping your gaze on the tv ahead.
"Is that all? Querida? Are you okay?"
"Mh-hm." 
"Pms?" he asks, joining you on the couch.
"No," you chuckle, cutely shaking your head. "Don't think so anyway."
"You seem sad."
You smile sincerely. "It's nothing— it's silly, really." 
Miguel's head cocks to the side, sweetly looking at you with softened eyes. His large hand reaching for yours. "Nothing's too silly," he shakes his head, trying to emphasise his statement. "Tell me what's on your mind."
"Miguel, it's stupid," you warn, suddenly embarrassed. "Like, really stupid."
"I don't care."
You exhale, turning to face him. "I was getting coffee and heard a bunch of girls swooning over you," you confess, your words quietening.
"Baby..." he hesitates, an amused smile lining his lips.
"I know it's childish, but it just bugs me sometimes—it's not funny."
"Of course not," he reassures, his posture stiffening from your soft scolding. "But you have to see the humour in it, no?"
"How so?"
"Cariño," he sweetly coos. "I'm here... with you. No one else gets to see me like this. Only you see me without the mask," his smile widens, looking at you in endearment. "You're the only one I want. I don't care about the girls on the internet or in coffee shops, just you."
Your smile mirrors his as you lean into him, nestling into his comfort. "Thank you," you say, your words muffle into the buff of his side. "I appreciate it. A lot."
"Of course," he chuckles, draping a blanket over himself - getting comfortable. He kisses the crown of your head. "Always."
— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —
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asumofwords · 1 year
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So this is a rquest. Aemond and his niece got bethroted but shes not happy about it. So, to tease him in hopes of him putting an end to their bethrotal, she starts flirting with every lord, guard or men that she finds attractive on the Red Keep. But, one night, she takes things to another level and sneaks out to a party at Flea Bottom and hes the one who finds her dancing on top of a table and, even if its a sight to be seen(thats what the men watching her with hungry eyes think too), he finally snaps and drags her out of there into a private place where some dubcon smutty action happens ;). With him telling her "if you want to act like a whore, ill treat you like a whore".
A/N: Oooooh, juicy. Thanks for the request!!! I honestly love the idea of giving Aemond a run for his money haha. I love seeing a man become feral. I hope you enjoy hehe.
Unsought Betrothal
TW: Dark!Aemond, 18+, Noncon, Dubcon, Aemond being a cunt, forced marriage.
Words: 6k
Pairings: Aemond X Reader, Cregan Stark X Reader
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Your betrothal to the One-Eyed Prince was a shock you. 
Alicent had insisted that you marry your uncle in order to strengthen the bonds of your divided house, and your mother Rhaenyra was all too eager to agree. Despite the relationship of the two women having soured over the years, and efforts to rekindle it beginning, you could not say the same for Aemond. 
As a child, Aemond had been quiet, dutiful and albeit awkward, kind. Not quite fitting in, and baring the brunt of your brothers and other uncles bullying. Yet, underneath his quiet demeanour, was a simmering rage and vicious jealousy.
Lords and Ladies from all over the realm had come to join you this evening in the Red Keep to celebrate the engagement of the Velaryon Princess to the Targaryen Prince. The Hall was lined with tables and chairs, food piled high on gold and silver plates and goblets of wine and mead held in every persons hands. Music played loudly, and the overall mood of the room was happiness.
Except for you.
You sat at the table, watching the Court converse with each other, laughing loudly, and others dancing in the middle of the room as music played from the corner. All wore their finest gowns and silks, necks and fingers dripping with gold and jewels.
Aemond sat beside you stiffly, having not tried to converse with you as he simply observed the room of guests, goblet in his hand with a spiced wine from Dorne within. 
You sipped heavily from your goblet as you watched the celebrations, wishing for them to end so that you may disappear into your chambers, and enjoy the last few moments of solitude that you may have before you are wed to the Prince. 
How terribly dull. 
You had begged your mother to not allow this to go forward, to not accept the betrothal, but she refused. It was a way to prevent a war, she had told you, and that she had not been allowed to marry who she had wanted to either. 
And so you bit your tongue, and did what your mother bid you to do.
Sighing loudly, you pulled the goblet up to your lips, drinking the rest of the spiced wine quickly, feeling it leave a warm path down your throat as you swallowed. It settled in your stomach, and the buzz from drinking that evening began to rise. 
You turned your head to look at your uncle, “Are you going to ask me to dance?” 
Only the slightest, most imperceptible movement of his head, allowed you to know that he had heard you. You stared at the profile of his face, his sharp nose and face accentuated by the candle lit room. 
“Hm.”
The least he could do was dance with you, to pretend that he wanted you. To pretend that he cared for your happiness. You both had gotten along when you were younger, but when Lucerys took his eye, he had become most bitter and spiteful, always looking at ways to take it out on you.
Aemond would openly call you a bastard, trip you over and sneer at you. He would make comments about your hair, and dresses, your brothers and your father.
He made your life hell.
Standing abruptly you slammed the cup onto the table and shoved your chair backwards, before walking down into the space where everyone was dancing, leaving your betrothed to sit at the table with your family in silence.
Bodies weaved around each other and smiles lit up the room. The Lords and Ladies parted like the sea, to allow you to dance with them all, their hands coming up to their partners before spinning back around. 
As they made room for you, you were stood in front of Lord Cregan Stark.
Cregan was who you had hoped to be wed to, in fact who you had begged your mother to wed you to. You had heard nothing but praise about the man; of his bravery, of his loyalty, and of course his handsome looks. He had dark brown hair, almost black atop his head, it was lightly curled and sat just below his ears. 
He wore all black that evening, and the way his clothes fit his body made you want him all the more. As you looked at him he smiled, teeth showing as he bowed before offering you a hand. 
“Congratulations on your betrothal, Princess.” He spoke to you above the sounds of the music and people around you, as you held onto his hand and danced.
“Thank you, My Lord. You are too kind.” You blushed, as his hand came to hold at your shoulder. So respectfully.
“You have travelled far for such an occasion.” You noted.
“Of course, Princess. Who wouldn’t want to see such an event. And meet the famed Rose of the Red Keep.” You felt his hand come to the middle of your back, as you moved. 
The wine coursed through your veins as you spun again, feeling a burning sensation on your skin. As you looked up, you saw Aemond watching you and Cregan dancing, one eye narrowed and his lips pursed into a hard line. 
Perhaps you didn’t have to go through this marriage after all…
“I had hoped this would have been for us.” You purred, voice low so that only he could hear.
Cregan almost paused as he looked at you, dark brown eyes searching your face.
“You mock me, Princess.”
“I assure you, I don’t. I had asked my mother to betroth me to you. Though, she thought my uncle would be more advantageous. It is… tradition.”
The Stark did not answer you, instead his hand moved further down your black dress, settling on your lower back as you moved. You pulled apart from him, glancing up to see if Aemond was still watching.
He was.
“Would you mind accompanying me to get a drink, My Lord? I find that my feet are beginning to become tired, and I am thirsty for more wine.”
Lord Cregan bowed his head in acknowledgement, and led you through the crowd to the tables on the side. Picking up a goblet, you poured yourself a full cup, turning to face the dark haired man before thrusting the cup out to him to sip from first. 
His large hand brushed over yours and you felt heat pull through you. He pulled the cup to his lips and sipped, before talking.
“If I had known about your intentions for me, I would have rode here sooner.”
His voice was as smooth as butter, and you felt yourself drawn to him.
You felt that watchful eye on you still, burning into the side of your face.
“Or maybe I will have to ride back to Winterfell with you.” You stepped away from the table and closer to Cregan, pulling the cup form his hand, sipping the wine heavily as you slipped up to whisper in his ear.
“I heard that Starks never break an oath.” You let your lips graze his ear, and you felt the man pull in a breath, deep into his chest.
“We don’t.”
“That is… impressive.” You purr leaning back to look at him again, “So if we were to marry, and to speak our vows, you would honour them?”
“Would you?”
“One flesh,” You placed a hand on his chest above his heart, “One heart, one soul, now and forever.” You smiled at him. 
As you moved to lean closer to him, to invite him to follow you, to ensure people would witness you leave with him, to embarrass Aemond so that Alicent would annul the betrothal, you heard your name.
Both you and Cregan turned your head to see Aemond himself, standing beside you, eye glaring at your hand upon the Stark mans chest. Cregan took a step back, nodding his head at your betrothed.
“My Prince.” 
Aemond did not even spare the Lord a glance, nor even an amused, aggravated or bored hum like he usually did. He simply stared at you, and where your hand now hung limply by your side. 
“Come.” Aemond challenged you.
“Why?” You snipped back, turning to look at Cregan who stood where he was, looking all the more uncomfortable.
“You wished to dance.”
“Not anymore. I am tired.”
“Then I will accompany you to your chambers.”
“No thank you. I can walk myself.”
Aemond then turned his attention to the man who still stood beside you both, watching the stiff interaction.
“Do you have intentions to bed my betrothed?” Aemond questioned, as though he was asking about the weather. Tone all too uninterested, but lone eye bright with that quiet simmering rage.
“No, My Lord. We were merely talking.”
“Hm. Excuse us, we have much to talk about.” 
Aemond wasn’t asking.
Cregan nodded at your uncle before back at you, “Of course.” Before he turned back away and into the sea of people celebrating behind you. You watched, eyes wide and rage building inside, as your uncle stood in front of you were Cregan had.
“I see what you’re doing.”
“I don’t have the slightest clue what you’re talking about, Aemond.”
“Hm.”
“Excuse me, I have to finish my conversation.” You pushed to try and walk past him, back into the crowd.
Aemond’s hand grabbed your arm as you moved to follow Cregan back into the crowd, his fingers digging painfully into the flesh of your arm.
“Let go of me.” You grunted, as you tried to yank your arm from his grip.
Aemond turned his head away from you, looking to the far wall where Ser Criston Cole stood. The man caught the Princes eyesight before coming towards you.
“Let. Go. Of. Me.” You growled, hand roughly pulling the One-Eyed Princes fingers backwards and off of you.
Ser Cole stood beside you, ever the dog of the Hightower’s.
“Please escort the Princess back to her chambers. She has had enough wine for the evening.”
“Yes, My Lord.” Ser Criston bowed, his brown eyes looking at your face expectantly. 
“No. I’m not going. These are my celebrations. And I am celebrating.” You snapped. Trying once more to weave your way into the crowd, finding Cregan’s gaze on yours as he watched the scene play out. 
“Don’t think you can whore yourself out to these Lords without me knowing.”
“Fuck you.”
“Hm.”
You snatched your arm away from his, before walking away from him back to the large table where you all sat. Alicent watched you anxiously as you sat back down, anger rolling off of you in waves, whilst your mother watched on in exacerbation. 
You spent the rest of the evening sitting at the table, not speaking to anyone else, watching Cregan from across the room, and feeling the gaze of your uncle as he observed you from your side.
You grew tired and restless from the celebrations and eventually excused yourself, bidding the table a curt good night before leaving the Hall and making for your chambers. The further you got from the Hall, the quieter the hallways became, until all that you could hear was the distant laughter and chatter of the court, celebrating an already doomed marriage. 
As you reached the end of another corridor that led to your chambers, you heard quickened steps on the stone floors behind you. Clasping your hands at your front you turned, expecting to see an angry Aemond, hot on your tails to berate you for the evenings events. 
What you did not expect was Cregan Stark, rapidly approaching you, hair wild and smile wide. His cheeks were a soft pink from the alcohol and likely the brisk pace he made to catch up with you.
“My Lord?”
“Please, call me Cregan.”
“Cregan.” You smiled, “Are you alright?”
The tall man stepped forward in a rush, his large palms coming to grab each side of your face before pulling you hurriedly into a chaste kiss, his lips pressing roughly against yours. He pulled away just as soon as they touched.
You smiled at him, stomach doing flips, heat crawling up your neck.
“Some Lords and my men will be going down to Flea Bottom on the morrows eve. Join us.” He asked, voice rushed.
Your smile only widened.
“Where?” You asked, looking behind him to make sure that no one else was listening.
“At the White Stag. Say you will come.”
“I will.”
Cregan’s smile made your heart warm. 
“Until the morrow. Goodnight, Princess.”
“Goodnight.”
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The next day went by slowly, as you anxiously waited on night to fall, and for you to leave the Keep to sneak down to Flea Bottom to the White Stag, where you would meet with Lord Cregan Stark. 
You had avoided Aemond like you usually did, opting to stay hidden in the gardens or your own chambers away from him, planning what to wear in your head mentally all day. 
Soon the moon rose high in the sky, and you had your maids prepare you for bed, bringing a bath to your chambers, letting you soak in the hot water, scented with fragrant oils.  
They could not leave your chambers sooner, and after you had finished your meal alone and had your hair brushed, you slipped into your bed and closed your eyes, pretending to be tired so that the maids would leave sooner.
As you heard the chamber doors close, you shot up out of bed, discarded the chemise over your head before throwing one of your black gowns on. Although you struggled to lace it yourself, you still succeeded. You pulled a large black cloak from your closet and pulled the hood over your head before placing a hand on the face of a painting. With strength you pushed the painting backwards, revealing a hidden pathway behind, one that you and your siblings and uncles had used as children, and one in which, you knew your mother had used in the past too. 
Shutting the path door behind you, you slunk down the passageway, winding your way through the Keep, and then finally descending down large steps to Flea Bottom below.  
As you reached the small city, the streets were lined with people and noise, drinks were being drunk, songs being sung and even performances in squares were watchers looked on at puppet shows and plays. 
You wound your way through the streets, not entirely sure of where you were going. That was when you felt anxiety. You did not even know where you were, or how to get there. Or what even the White Stag looked like. You looked behind you and noticed that you couldn’t even remember what way you came. 
Before you could let the anxiety overwhelm you, you felt a warm hand placed on your shoulder.
“Princess.” Came the smooth timber of Cregan Stark. 
You smiled at the man who stood before you. Dressed in dark brown leathers with his hair brushed backwards out of his face, bar one lone curl that hung down from his forehead.
“You look lost.” He joked.
You huffed a relived laugh, “Would you believe me if I told you I wasn’t?”
“Not one bit.”
“Well, you'd best lead the way.”
The White Stag was a large inn, with stone flooring and walls, exposed wood detailing and low light coming from candles and a large fireplace. The windows were adorned with rich red curtains, and tables and chairs sat strewn amongst the space. As soon as you stepped inside, the air changed. It was hot, bodies were everywhere as they laughed and sang and even danced. Women sat atop mens laps or sang loudly as they stood nearby. 
Cregan sat you down at a table that was full of men, you assumed also from the North, with three to four women standing beside, or leaning against them. Most ignored you as you sat, a large pint of mead being placed in your hand, as Cregan sat beside you. Turning his chair to face you fully, as you looked at each other. 
“So, I have been thinking about what you said last night.” He spoke loudly over the sound of the inn. 
“What did I say?” You teased.
“About oaths.”
“Oh, I think remember.”
“I thought of something else.”
“And that is?”
“Oi Cregan, who’s the girl?” Came a booming voice of a man across the table. His skin was pale and dotted in freckles, almost like constellations. He had short dark hair and piercing green eyes. Before Cregan could answer for you, you replied.
“Y/n.”
The man tilted his head. “Has the Princess lost her way?” He teased, smirk rising on his face. 
“Leave her be, Dustin.” Cregan lightly warned the man, which only seemed to spark his interest more.
“So you are the Princess then. Where’s your husband?” Dustin asked, thick accent curling his r’s, as he looked behind you.
“I’m not married.”
“Ah, but you are betrothed.”
You sipped heavily form your drink. 
“Not for a lack of trying. I had hoped to have that betrothal annulled. Do you have a spare horse?”
Dustin’s brow furrowed as he looked at you, then to Cregan beside you who laughed.
“You lost your dragon?”
“No, but I think the North would be far too cold for him. Plus, easily spotted.” You smirked, sipping again before turning your attention back to Cregan.
“So, what else had you thought of?” You inquired.
Stark smiled down at you as he shifted his chair closer, the sound of the wood scuffing on the stone below catching in your ears.
“Thought about oaths that I would make to you.”
“And what would those be?” You leant in closer, hand coming to touch his thigh.
“I would swear to honour you.”
“Go on.” You urged him.
“I would swear to give myself to you fully.”
“And?”
“I would swear to ensure that you never hunger or thirst for naught.”
“For naught?” You ask, heat building inside of you as you drank. 
Cregan smirked in response.
“And what if I told you that I was starved?” You asked.
“Are you?”
“Of a sort.” You let your hand crawl higher up his leather clad thigh, the muscles rippling under your touch. 
“Then I would have to work to fix that.” He smirked.
As the night continued, you and Cregan sat closer and closer to one another until your knees were brushing against each other. Dustin watched on shamelessly as a woman sat upon his lap, long slender fingers brushing against his neck as she spoke quietly into his ear. 
The night was filled with the laughter and joy you had hoped for last evening. Ale was spilt upon wooden table tops and floors, as men and women began to sing louder and dance upon tables and chairs. Before long, the woman who had seated herself upon Dustin pulled you up with her, onto the table to dance. 
You let her grasp your hand, as you laughed, looking back at an amused Cregan and and even more amused Dustin, as you pulled up your skirts to jump atop a large table, where four others had begun to stamp their feet and sing loudly to a song you had never heard. A sea shanty tale. 
You let the ale guide your body as you twisted and danced, laughing loudly with the woman, who you learnt was named Sara. Her long auburn hair glowed in the light as you leant on each other to dance, one hand still tightly grasped in your skirts to keep them from ripping beneath your feet. 
Cregan’s icy eyes watched your movements as you let a hand trail up the bodice of your dress, watching him with intent as you swayed. Stark leant back in his chair, legs widening, with one arm leaning upon the table as Sara placed a soft kiss to your cheek in excitement. You felt a blush crawl over your cheeks. 
All eyes were on you, as the men watched you sway your hips, hands smoothing up your body in a slight tease. The ale making your movements bolder as you stared at Cregan, challenging him to take you somewhere more private, or if he so desired, there on that very seat.
Never before had you felt so desired.
As you bent forward to give the men a show of your cleavage, you felt the world tip suddenly, as a calloused hand ripped you from the table. Your ankle rolled sharply as you stumbled back onto the stone floor, iron grip bruising the soft flesh of your wrist. Your sight caught those of the table who watched you, no longer in a trance, stiffly. 
You turned your head to you assailant, finding one piercing purple eye and another sapphire watching you in distaste. Aemond’s lips were pulled down into a sneer and he held onto you tightly, three men from the Kings Guard behind him, as well as Ser Criston Cole. 
Cregan watched as Aemond towered over the both of you, looking down his nose as he watched in disgust, anger pouring from him in waves. And although he looked somewhat calm on the outside, you knew that this quietness was telling of Aemond’s simmering rage.  
“Do continue.” Aemond purred, pushing you roughly towards Cregan, your feet stumbling beneath themselves. 
“Don't-” You began before he interrupted you.
��-I think he was talking about fixing your hunger. Were you not, Lord Stark?” His one purple eye, boring a hole into Cregan's head.
Cregan did not answer, instead his jaw clenched. 
“No?” The One-Eyed Prince mused.
“Aemond, stop.” You hissed, ankle sore from the way you landed on it.
“But you seemed so content, dancing for these Northerners, niece. Continue.” 
“Fuck you. Craven.” You hissed, watching Aemond’s lip twitch upwards, before he looked back at Ser Cole.
“Ser Criston, have these men escorted to the edge of the city. I fear there has been treason this evening.”
Ser Cole and his men stepped forward, surrounding the table, as Cregan and his men looked up in shock. You looked at Cregan, wide eyed before turning back to Aemond.
“What? They did nothing wrong!” You began to panic.
“I fear there was a plot to tarnish your good name, Princess.” Aemond purred, snatching your arm painfully before beginning to pull you through the White Stag, and back out into the streets of Flea Bottom.
You dug your feet into the ground, trying to pull away from him, ignoring the slight pain of your ankle, but he was too strong for you, his bruising grip getting tighter the further he dragged you away.
“Stop! Let me go! They did nothing wrong!” You dug your fingers into his, trying to pry them away, but it was no use. He dragged you through Flea Bottom as onlookers watched.
You pulled a hand back, making a fist before you slammed it down onto his shoulder, “Get off!” You yelled.
Aemond stopped in his tracks, and you breathed heavily, still trying to pull away from your uncle. His head turned to gaze at you, his face completely devoid of any emotion, except the small twitch of his lip. His eye roamed you before looking behind you. 
Then suddenly he was moving again. 
Aemond pulled you into a small dark alley, bruising grip painfully throbbing up your arm. You looked frantically around you, but all had gone back to their business, and ignored the two Valyrians. He threw you forward into the space as your chest heaved, looking about to escape, but there was none. 
“If you want to act like a whore, I’ll treat you like a whore.” He purred before he descended on you. His hands pushed you roughly against the wall of the alley, brick digging painfully into your back. You squirmed, desperate to get away from his grip, hands coming up to his chest to push your uncle away from you.
“Do you think I’m stupid?” He growled, hands roughly coming up to palm at your breasts and you fought to push him off, fear crawling its way up your throat.
“Did you truly think I wouldn’t know what you were doing?” He sneered, one hand pushing against your throat roughly, cutting off your air. Your hands flew up to try and pull his away as he kept you locked against the wall in the dark depths of Flea Bottom.
“You thought you could parade yourself like a whore,” His hand ripped the front of your bodice down, your breasts spilling forth from their confines as his violet eye watched greedily, fingers coming to pinch painfully against your nipple, “To try and have this betrothal annulled.”
The cool air kissed at your breasts, causing your nipples to harden. You pushed at him with all your strength, trying to run away from the sharp pinching of his fingers, and the lack of air he denied you. Each pinch made your body stiffen. 
You whimpered.
“But you misunderstand me, niece.” His hand left their cruel assault upon your breasts to roughly begin hiking your dress up your body, you felt panic and fear begin to settle in your stomach as you dug your fingers into his chest sharply with your nails , trying to get him to let you go, shaking your head.
“Do you think I would let some filthy Northerners touch you?” His hand slipped under your skirts, brutally digging into the soft skin of your sex, “It will be my seed that will grow inside of you.”
Aemond’s fingers rubbed up and down your cunt roughly, gathering what little wetness was there, before he thrusted two fingers inside of you. Your eyes widened in shock as you felt the sharp sting of his intrusion. His fingers moved in and out quickly and painfully, pushing roughly into your warm heat as he watched your face.
“This is what you wanted, yes? To be treated like a dirty whore?” He purred, as breathless whimpers left your lips, your hands weakly pushing against his chest as you felt your vision begin to blur from lack of oxygen.
Your uncle’s hand left your throat and you sucked in a greedy gulp of air, a sob escaping your lips as you clawed at his arm, trying to stop his movements, whilst the hand that left your throat came down to roughly grasp at your exposed breasts.
“What would Lord Stark say to see you like this, hm? To see the Princess exposed in the filthy streets with her uncle inside of her cunt. Would he still want you?” He growled, hand quickening its pace as you felt a warmth begin to settle in your lower stomach, the pain fading away to be replaced with the soft trickles of pleasure. 
“Stop, Aemond. Please.” You begged him, voice hoarse as a tear slid from your cheek. He had you pressed so tightly against the wall that you could not move your hips back to escape him, so that all you could do was let him use you.
“Please?” He mocked, face coming close to yours before he kissed the tear away from your cheek. He hummed.
Your betrothed thumb came to press sharply at your slit, as his fingers rubbed the soft spongey flesh inside of you, pulling pleasure from your forcefully. 
A ragged moan left your lips as you jolted from the sudden pressure. 
“Mmm.” Aemond hummed close to your ear, moving his hand faster and more brutally. You felt tears begin to prick at your eyes, as you felt yourself being forced closer to your peak.
“Are you going to cum, zaldrītsos?” (Little dragon) He purred in your ear, as his thumb swirled roughly against the small bundle of nerves, the coil in your stomach beginning to tighten.
“Are you going to cum on my hand like a filthy whore? Out in the open for anyone to see? Perhaps I should have had Cregan and his men watch how disgusting you are.” He mused, and you felt yourself clench.
“Go on, be a good whore and cum for me.” He growled, and you felt the coil snap, as his thumb and fingers sent you over the edge, crashing down into a powerful orgasm.
His hands did not stop their assault, as you tried to push him away from you, tears sliding down your cheeks as your body twitched in the aftershocks of your orgasm. His fingers only became rougher as they pulled at you, before suddenly they were ripped away, a gasp leaving your lips as Aemond roughly spun you against the wall, your cheek digging into the rough brick of the alley.
His hands pulled your skirts over the rump of your ass, before pulling you backwards towards him. Your hands caught the brick as you tried to pull yourself straight and away from him, as Aemond clicked his tongue behind you.
“Be a good whore, and take it.” He hissed before you felt the soft hard head of his cock brush against the lips of your cunt. 
You moved to pull away but you were trapped.
“Uncle, please. No.” You cried, as you felt him push sharply inside of you, pain blooming within as he broke through your walls.
Aemond grunted from behind you before he started a brutal pace, his hips slamming against yours roughly, as you felt the painful sharp intrusion of his cock inside of you. The head of it, roughly hitting your cervix causing shooting agony to ripple up your body.
“So fucking tight.” He growled as he continued his assault, broken whimpers escaping your mouth as you used your hands to hold you up against the wall in purchase, trying to crawl away from him. 
Your uncle leant forward, crushing you with his body as he rutted up inside of you, changing the angle suddenly, brushing over the soft spongey flesh inside of you, causing you to mewl.
“Does that feel good?” He mocked as he continued to rub himself against the spot, the pain of him taking your maidenhead replaced with the warm sparks of pleasure, building faster than before. You shook your head, trying to move away from him.
“No?” He asked, “Let me help you.” 
Two of Aemond’s fingers shoved roughly into your open mouth before it snaked down the front of your dress, pressing against your clit, swirling softer circles around the nub.
Your cunt clenched against his cock as he continued to rut against you, his soft grunts in your ear as you felt yourself begin to wet around him, his cock sliding in and out of you smoother, aided by your arousal.
“I think it does feel good. I can feel your slick.” He mused as he continued to rub on you.
You felt yourself rapidly descending towards your second release, your fingers digging into the bricks as you began to chase after the peak, hips subtly pushing back against him. His fingers began to rub faster against you, as he thrusted harder into you, cock grazing that special spot as the coil wound itself tight, ready to break again before suddenly he stopped.
Aemond pushed himself fully into you, the head of his cock pushing snugly against your cevix as his fingers lifted away from your clit, preventing you from reaching your climax. A soft sob fell from your lips as your hips pushed back into him, chasing what was denied.
“Uh uh.” Your uncle tutted, “Beg.”
A whimper left your lips.
You refused to beg. 
Instead, pushing yourself up and down his shaft shakily, trying to catch your release, though your movements were jagged and shallow, prevented by him pushing you up against the wall. 
“Aemond.” You whispered his name, feeling the pleasure begin to simmer away from you, dwindling rapidly. 
“Beg.” He purred, softly pulling out and then slowly pushing back in, his shaft rubbing through you, causing pleasure to spark.
“Uncle.” You whimpered again, grabbing his arm trying to pull him closer, but he did not budge.
“Be a good little whore, and beg for it.”
“Aemond, please.” You begged, as you pushed your ass back into him, using your hands to attempt to rind against him.
“Please what, sweet niece?” He purred in your ear, hand grasping your hip tightly to stop your movements.
You shut your eyes tightly before sucking in a shark breath, head turning against the bricks so that you could peer at him from your periphery.
“Please fuck me.” You whispered.
“I can’t hear you.” Aemond mocked, as ground his hips into you, causing a wave of pleasure to curl its way around your stomach.
“Please fuck me, Aemond.” You begged louder. Feeling shame and arousal crawling through you as you hid your face back into the brick of the wall, pushing your ass back into his crotch, feeling his cock gently slide through your folds.
“Good girl.” He praised, before thrusting roughly into you, setting a sharp pace, hips clapping into the flesh of your ass, echoing in the empty alleyway.
A hand wound its way up your throat to hold you still as he pulled you backwards, arching your back against him as he thrusted wildly into you, before the other hand snaked down to begin rubbing at your clit again, fingers slipping around it smoothly with your slick.
“Please, please, please.” You whimpered, hips pushing back against him as his lips kissed against your neck, your second release rapidly arriving with every thrust of his hips. 
Aemond grunted against you as he felt you clenching around him, each push and pull of his hips dragging the head of his cock against your sweet spot, before it sent you tumbling over the edge.
The coil snapped and you found yourself moaning loudly into the alley, his hips continuing their brutal pace as he pushed you through your climax, his fingers continuing to rub circles against you, prolonging your release. You felt your slick drip down your thighs, and moaned.
“Yes.” He purred into your neck, before his teeth dug sharply in to your shoulder, his hips stuttering against you, as you felt his warm seed spurting inside.
You sagged against him, letting him hold you up as he continued to thrust into you slower, letting each spurt of cum settle deep inside of you, as some began to leak out of you and down your legs.
“Fuck.” He sighed dreamily, as he pushed himself to his limit inside of you, feeling your cunt twitch around him. 
A dull ache began to settle in your core as you felt Aemond slowly slide himself out of you, feeling his seed and your release drip onto the dirty ground below.
You breathed heavily as you caught your breath, leaning your head against his shoulder as his hands gripped your hips, bruising your tender flesh, before he spun you around to face him.
His hair was messed, and a light layer of sweat had settle upon his forehead. The pupil of his lavender eye was blown out so that you could scarcely see the iris behind it. His gaze trailed down your body to your exposed breasts which heaved with every ragged and exhausted breath you took. A hand came to stroke the underside of one softly, causing goosebumps to erupt across your body.
“My sweet niece,” He cooed, “Such a good whore for me.” You almost keened at his praise as his eye landed upon your lips. 
Your uncle leant forward to press a rough and punishing kiss to your lips, hand curling in your hair at the back of your head, denying you to pull away. You kissed him back lazily as you felt him smirk.
The One-Eyed Prince pulled back watching you intently before he smiled.
“We will be wed on the morrow, and you will carry my seed, and grow heavy with my child.” He looked down, brushing a hand against your stomach.
You blinked as you looked at him.
“If you thought you could escape me, you were sorely mistaken.” He leant in close, lips brushing your ears, “Iksā ñuhon.” He purred.
You are mine.
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I hope you enjoyed that lil request! Thanks so much for sending it through, it was fun to write. :)
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