#sorry the sex parts themselves honestly suck ass

[da-gamingojichan]

Robooty's awezome itager sex fanfic (AIDS EDITION)

PREAMBLE: you all may know my hit fanfiction on the ao3.... but i mentioned in the tags theres an aids edition where practically all the dialogue has their accents completely horrible and inaccurately written out. the very last bits dont have that but its because I was fighting for my life against sickness and the school chromebook to finish the fic when i made it okay shit happened. ill link the ao3 version thats #normal and what you should read if ur gunna read this shit. but for the robootyling that begged me on mai blog to post the aids edition.... this is for you ❤️

LINK TO NORMAL ONE

PREAMBLE OVER. SEX COMMENCE!!!!!

Germany nervously thumbed the note cards in his hands as he awaited Italy's arrival. The man blushed as he skimmed over the contents he had copied down from The Beginner’s Guide To Sex For the Hard-Hearted German on said pieces of paper the night earlier. He shifted the note cards to face more inwards towards himself, despite the fact he was alone in the hotel room. And also that if anyone even were to steal the note cards it would take them at least five minutes to decipher what was written down in his microscopic neat handwriting. Nervously, he fiddled with the edge of the ski mask on his face.

Yes, he had a ski mask on his head for the past twenty minutes. Germany had realized that even thinking about the event to come made his entire face flush a noticeable red. He couldn’t even imagine how blushed he’d look during the actual activity itself and decided that sort of thing was much too shameful to show Italy, so he found a solution. Wearing a ski mask on his face would be the perfect fix to make sure his lover wouldn’t see all the blood in his body rushing to his head when it’s supposed to be going to his… vital regions.

He also realized that he would probably make all sorts of embarrassing sounds and maybe even get so overwhelmed he’d attack Italy by instinct once they got down to business. So to combat this he also procured a duffle bag that sat next to the bed with duct tape, rope, and a knife to cut both items with. The duct tape would be perfect to put over his mouth to make sure any strange sounds he would make would become inaudible, and the rope could be used if he felt that he might need to be restrained to protect his husband.

He also had a yak tranquilizer in there too.

Just in case y’know?

Sure it may be a bit strange, but Italy probably wouldn’t even find it noticeable after listening to Germany’s explanation and adjusting to it all. At least that’s what Austria said when he consulted him on the matter. Apparently he and Hungary did that sort of thing all the time or something.

The blonde country sighed as he tucked the notecards into his pocket and fiddled with his hands while listening to the clock tick by. He suddenly focused his eyes on said clock and squinted.

“Vait. Vat ze hell?,” he thought, “Zat clock iz vun quarter of unt second off! I must fix it!”

The country quickly stood up from where he was sitting at the edge of the bed and brought the clock down into his hands as started to tinker with it. He had momentarily worried about Italy arriving while he was adjusting the clock, but decided that it would be fine, he needed something to get his mind off of what they would be doing together once his husband arrived. Instead he decided to recount what had happened to bring him to the hotel room in the first place.

It all started two weeks prior on Germany and Italy’s anniversary. The German had as always agonizingly created a meticulous plan for Italy to ruin immediately. Although this year had been a surprise since the brunette ruined Germany’s plans not by his usual antics like flashing his dick in a restaurant and getting them kicked out or getting distracted by street cats a few too many times, rather he’d told Germany that he made their plans all by himself for a change.

Now Germany could have told Italy that he spent weeks creating the itinerary for the day already and would receive nothing but understanding sprinkled with bits of praise from the Italian for always being so prepared. But the moment he saw the earnest look in his husband’s eyes that showed he really did try his best making the plans for a change this time, all notions of following through with the reservations he had made flew out the window.

It was fine, sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good, especially the greatest good which was accepting Italy’s displays of affections. No matter how frustrating or unpleasant or downright humiliating they could be at times. Besides, few canceled reservations was still infinitely better than the time the brunette uploaded on his official country of Italy account a post captioned “pasta in the shape of Germany’s anatomy” with a rather… uncouth, but delicious looking picture attached. Not to mention how Italy later begged the referenced country to reblog the photo onto his own official country account.

He did reblog it of course.

Anyways, Germany was rather excited to see what Italy had in store for him. Even though he knew the plans would not be as elaborate or well thought out as his own usually are, he still highly anticipated seeing what his husband prepared for him.

But how was he supposed to expect that after a day of a surprisingly well thought out and romantic anniversary date that the Italian planned to bed him?!

Like seriously! He had already mentally prepared himself for kissing and hand holding and possibly even a heavy make out session before snuggling in bed– but definitely not going all the way! Sure it might have been because it was specifically their hundredth anniversary they were celebrating, but that still is moving a bit fast isn’t it!?

The worst part was that the way the German realized that his husband wanted to have s… se…

…coitus. With Him.

Was when during their make out session the Italian palmed his lover’s dick firmly in his hand through the man’s pants only for Germany to suddenly suplex him out of sheer battle instincts.

The taller man quickly snapped out of it and helped Italy up before grabbing an ice pack from his fridge for his head. Forgetting completely about Italy copping a feel after effectively giving his husband a concussion on their anniversary night, he apologized profusely for the wrestling move as he asked if he was alright. The brunette was only slightly dazed since his brain was already so damaged that a hit like that barely did any harm to him at all. Yet he still stayed silent and kept his head lowered as tears began to pool into his eyes.

Germany started to panic, but before he could get a word out the shorter man lifted his head to make eye contact with him and asked with the seriousness of a man on death row, “Germany. Am I-a rizzless?”

The German did not know how to respond to that. He merely gaped at him for a moment before sputtering out, “V-Vhat are you talking avout? Of courze you have rizz!”

Italy bore his gaze into his lover’s eyes. “Then why… why…,” he trailed off.

“Why vhat?,” Germany asked, panic now replaced with confusion since he now knew the Italian wasn’t badly hurt.

Italy trembled as he brought his head back down before surging upwards and yelling at Germany with a hint of desperation, “WHY HAVE WE-A NEVA BANGED?! I KNOW YOU’RE NOT TE ASEXUAL JAHMANY! I’VE SEEN HOW YOU CUT OUT-A PICTURES OF MAH HEAD AND PASTE IT ONTO THE BOHDIES OF ALL THE PEOPLES IN YOUR PORN MAGAZINES! AM I-A JUST NOT YOUR BODY TYPE? ARE ANEMIC BOYS LIKE SWEETZERLAND MORE YOUR-A STYLE?”

Meanwhile, in a house far away from the two other countries, Switzerland sneezed.

“VHAT!?,” yelled the German, leaning back from his lover’s outburst, “VHAT ARE YOU TALKING AVOUT ITALY?!”

“ONE HUNDRED YEARS WE’VE-A BEEN MARRIED AND NEVER ONCE HAVE YOU EXPLAINED WHY WE DON’T GO PAST KISSING! AN ITALIAN LIKE-A ME CAN ONLY GO SO LONG WITHOUT ANY-A ACTION! I USED TO HAVE AT LEAST THREE GIRLS-A NIGHT! NOW I’VE BEEN OVER A HUNDRED YEARS ABSTINENT,“ Italy cried as he threw himself into Germany’s arms, “do you know how-a bad that is for someone like-a me? My soul is degrading Jahmany. MY SOUL! Is it-a because you don’t like my body? You told-a me about how you think of-a me during your monthly scheduled jack off sessions! Just tell-a me why Jahmany– why!”

Germany was stunned beyond words. Italy’s indecipherable speech was something that the man had become fluent in for years, but the Italian had spoken so quickly and frantically that even he had to take a moment to process what exactly had just spat out at him at rapid fire.

As the man fully processed what his husband rambled out a flush rose up his neck to the top of his head. He looked down at the teary eyed brunette snuggled in his chest and quickly proceeded with damage control.

“n-NO! Italy it’z not like zat at all!,” he quickly reassured, “u-uhm I love your body! It’s not displeazing to me at all! I especially vike how your torso haz vun arm on each side! And-and how ven you open your eyez I can see your vhites in zem! The reason we haven’t… done things… like zat yet is uhm… vell I haven’t exactly zhought ve’d be doing zhose activities anytime soon…”

He paused as he downcast his eyes, looking away from the brunette for a moment.

Before he decidedly gave out a long exhale and mumbled under his breath, “vut it’z not vike I don't VANT to…”

The Italian abruptly paused secretly motorboating Germany’s tits once he heard the man’s barely audible confession. In an instant, his tears receded into his eyes (in a very frankly disturbing manner, since tears should not be able to do that; you know how Hetalia’s animation budget gets sometimes) and he immediately looked up towards his lover as he broke into an excited grin.

“REALLY JAHMANY?! FOR-A REAL-SIES?!,” Italy shouted as he lunged towards the German’s face, “YOU WANNA █████████████████████ AND THEN ████████████████ TO YOUR-A █████████████ SO I ████████████████████████ THEN I █████████ ALL-A OVER YOU AND DON’T STOP EVEN WHEN YOU █████████ AND THEN-A WE BOTH █████████████████████████████!!!!!!”

Germany snapped his eyes back to look at the Italian as he sputtered from all the profane and lewd things his husband had just shoved into his mind to imagine. He could feel his head steaming as he made a few choked noises trying to figure out how to begin to respond to something like that until he finally gave up. He sighed in defeat before he averted his gaze again and hesitantly mumbled, “Ja.”

Italy immediately glomped the man as hard as he could, making Germany fall backwards slightly as he let out a startled yelp.

“OH JAHMANY I’M-A SO HAPPY! YOU’LL REALLY LIKE SEX JAHMANY I-A KNOW YOU WILL I’M REALLY REALLY REALLLYY GOOD AT IT! I-A MAY NOT BE ABLE TO FIGHT FOR SHIT BUT I-A DO KNOW MY WAY AROUND-A PERSON’S ASSHOLE! OR WELL– A PRETTY LADY’S ASSHOLE, BUT YOU’RE A PRETTY MAN AND-A EVERYONE HAS AN ASSHOLE SO I’M SURE IT’S-A BASICALLY THE SAME! I’M SO SO GLAD JAHMANY! I’M-A SO GLAD YOU DO WANT TO BANG AND I’M-A SO GLAD MY BEAUTIFUL BODY IS-A NOT JUST IRRESISTIBLE TO EVERY-A WOMAN ON PLANET EARTH, BUT ALSO IRRESISTIBLE TO YOU TOO!,” he excitedly rambled into his husband's ear, “EVEN WITH MY-A WEIRD PENIS!”

Germany instinctually reciprocated the hug and patted Italy’s back as his head tilted downwards into the other man’s shoulder.

“Ja Ja. I do,” he muttered with embarrassment tinging his voice, “even vith your… unique penis.”

Italy made a content “ve~” and further snuggled into the German’s hug. A silence stretched as they mutually enjoyed each other's embrace.

That is until Italy grabbed Germany’s balls again and got suplexed immediately.

Italy let out a surprised, “VE-” and Germany made a panicked noise as he immediately released the other man and picked him up to sit him down in his previous spot. The taller man fumbled to grab the previously discarded ice pack while his husband sat dazed for slightly longer than after the first suplex. He still came back to his senses astonishingly quickly though, since getting multiple concussions in one day was just another Tuesday for the Italian.

This time though, the blonde was the first one to speak.

“VAT ZE HELL VAS ZAT?!,” he angrily scolded, “VHY DID YOU DO ZAT?? I SUPLEXED YOU LITERALLY TWO MINUTES AGO FOR TOUCHING MEIN DEUTSCH BALLS!”

Italy let out a confused ve as Germany rubbed his head on the spot that hit the ground.

“B-but I-a thought you said you WANTED to-a get-a down and dahty with me Jahmany.”

“J-Ja I do!,” the German replied as he quickened the pace of his rubbing to distract himself from his rising embarrassment, “vut obviously I need unt time to prepare!”

He paused in contemplation for a moment.

“Vun month should be sufficient, " he concluded.

“VE?!” Italy yelled as he shot up out of the man’s hold, “DEADASS??”

Germany startled backwards from the outburst and replied in an agitated tone, “Yes “deadass”! How do you expvect me to read unt annotate ze whole Guide to Sex for Ze Hard Hearted German series in less time zan zat? Zere’s five books to study and-”

Germany was cut off by the shorter man putting his hands on his shoulders with a face that could only be described as radiating the sentiment of “this faggot cannot be serious right now”.

“Jahmany. Jahmany. Amore mio. Listen to me,” He gritted out as he opened his eyes, “You do not need to read five books to prepare for sex.”

Germany gaped at him for a moment, not because he opened his eyes while saying his statement, but because while saying it Italy had dropped his accent out of sheer exasperation.

“Vut… Vut what if I do it badly?,” he hesitantly protested, all the fight draining out of him after hearing his husband get so tired of his shit he became normal.

Italy continued to stare him directly into his eyes with an alarming seriousness, “Germany. You will not do badly. There is no conceivable way for you to disappoint me. I have jerked off to you twice a day for the past hundred years without fail– yes, even while I had pneumonia that one time. I’ve imagined literally every scenario possible with you. In fact there is no scenario I’ve imagined with you that I didn’t like at least a little bit too. There’s no physically possible way for me to not like banging you.”

Germany’s blush deepened as he listened to the brunette’s confession, his embarrassment only amplified from being pinned down by the other’s intense stare. He instinctually averted his eyes while he hung his head in a bit of shame as he started realizing maybe he was being the ridiculous one here.

The Italian’s eyes softened as they slipped back closed and he cupped his husband’s cheek into his hand to bring his face back to his own, “But you-a know that if you-a really are uncomfortable or scared or-a anything at all we don’t-a have to have sex okay?,” he began stroking his cheek gently with his thumb, “I-a just want you to-a know that there’s no part of me that doesn’t desire you. It’s-a completely okay if you don’t-a want to do that-a sort-a of thing now or even ever. Even if we-a start and you don’t-a want to keep-a going suddenly then-a we-a can stop anytime. I just know how-a shy you can be about things and how you sometimes worry about-a me too much, so I need-a to push you to let-a you-a know you shouldn’t be worried about-a my end.”

The blonde brought his hand up to Italy’s wrist that was holding his face and forced his eyes back to his lover’s face. Furrowing his brow a little bit from fighting against his instincts to look away again, he responded, “Vell… if you really are svure you are fine vith me being less zan properly prepared… ven I zink ve could arrange somevhing next veek…”

The shorter man brought his face closer to Germany’s, “Are you really sure?”

“Ja,” the German replied, fighting for his life against his embarrassment and autism to maintain eye contact.

Feeling his nerves about to get the best of him, he moved his head back and closed his eyes while he quickly added, “vut not ze ██████████████ und ze █████████████ and also ze ███████████!”

He turned his face away as he muttered, “At least not for now… Zat’s vay too much for ze firvst time! And also ESPECIALLY not ze ███████████ too okay?!”

Italy had proceeded to pull him into a kiss and murmured something about how cute he was as he decided to continue what they left off at in their make-out session twenty minutes ago.

Afterwards while cuddling they both agreed to book a hotel room the next Saturday for their highly anticipated activities together and thus, led Germany to where he was now. Now having finished fixing and placing back the clock, he occupied himself by rummaging through the various items in the cabinets to see where the hotel bible was to read a few verses from it.

He was snapped out of his focus when suddenly, he heard a shriek from behind him and swiftly turned towards the source of the sound.

There he saw a teary eyed Italy quite literally shaking in his boots.

“AHHHHH!!!!! INTRUDER ALERT INTRUDER ALERT WHERES-A GERMANY?!,” Italy screamed as his eyes darted around the room and caught on the open duffle bag, seeing the tape and rope within it, “OH-A MY GOD HE’S TRYING TO-A HARVEST OUR ORGANS OR-A SELL US ON THE-A BLACK MARKET AHHHHHH!!! WHAT HAVE YOU-A DONE TO-A JAHMANY?!”

Germany, realizing that Italy could not recognize him with his ski mask on, quickly strode over to the man to reassure him that there was no intruder that was trying to hate crime them. Unfortunately in his panic it did not occur to him to remove his mask making the Italian only freak out harder.

The brunette immediately made a move to bolt away once he saw the other man start striding towards him, but was caught in the intruder’s arms and struggled to get away as if he was going to be forced to pay his bill at a restaurant. After about five seconds he gave up and pulled out two white flags seemingly out of nowhere and got to doing what he does best, acting like a total pussy.

“PLEASE-A LET ME GO YOU WON’T-A LIKE-A MY ORGANS–THEY’RE FULL OF-A PASTA AND WINE AND JAHMANY’S NASTY WAR BREAD WHICH IS-A CALLED STOLLEN BUT-A DON’T TELL HIM-A THAT I-A CALLED IT THAT BECAUSE I-A LIED AND TOLD HIM I-A LOVED IT WHEN IT-A TASTED REALLY REALLY REALLY BAD– LIKE SUPER DUPER BAD IT-A WAS HARD AND HAD-A NASTY DRIED FRUITS IN IT BUT I-A COULDN’T BREAK HIS HEART AND-A TELL HIM THAT AND ENDED UP HAVING TO-A EAT A WHOLE LOT OF IT– THE THINGS I-A DO FOR LOVE AM I-A RIGHT? SEE I’VE-A HAD A HARD LIFE Y’KNOW SO PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DON’T HURT MEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!,” he rambled while waving his white flags furiously.

Italy felt the grip on him soften as the masked man deflated and in a broken hearted voice said, “Italy… you lied avout viking mein schtollen? Vhy… Vhy did you lie to me…”

“G-germany?,” Italy asked himself as he dropped his white flags to take off the man’s mask, revealing a disillusioned Germany.

He made a startled yell of surprise realizing what he just confessed to the man.

“I-I DIDN’T-A MEAN IT IN THAT-A WAY JAHMANY!!,” he tried to reassure, “YOU-A KNOW I SAY SOME CRAZY THINGS WHEN I’M IN-A TROUBLE–”

He saw that his words were having no impact on his lover’s deflated mood and quickly changed the subject, “UHM! ANYWAYS– I’M-A REALLY GLAD YOU’RE NOT-A SCARY INTRUDER JAHMANY AND YOU DIDN’T-A GET CUT OPEN OR-A SOLD ON THE BLACK MARKET!”

Italy continued rambling about how happy he was that neither of them were going to become meat pies as he untangled himself from Germany's hold and took him by the hand back into the hotel room. He closed the door behind them and led them to the bed.

“Why were you-a wearing such-a scary thing anyways Jahmany?,” Italy asked while holding the ski mask out in front of him as they sat down on the mattress, “and what’s with all the stuff in the duffle bag? I-a thought you didn’t-a want to do anything kinky this-a time?”

Germany, having already forgiven Italy as usual, explained in an increasingly flustered manner his reasoning for the mask and the items in his bag, especially the yak tranquilizer. As the explanation went on Italy’s face went from confused into falling in a grimace-like smile.

“... so zats vhy I prepared all zese zings. Again, I’m sorry vor startling you earlier,” the taller man concluded. He reached to take the ski mask back only for it to be jerked away from him by the Italian.

“Jahmany,” Italy started with tight smile, “thank you for all-a these-a wonderful preparations. But I-a think we won’t-a need these things at-a all. Especially not-a the ski mask. Just-a trust me okay?”

The blonde knit his brows togethers in confusion thinking that Italy surely should have understood why his preparations were needed after his thirty minute explanation. Well, in daily life Italy did have trouble following a line of logic in general so it isn’t too surprising that he was struggling to become agreeable now too.

“Let me explain it to you again zen Italy, so-,” Germany started only to be cut off from Italy lunging himself on top of him, effectively pinning him to the bed kabedon style.

There was no fucking way Italy was going to listen to that thirty minute schpiel again. It was already 10 PM at night and he knew Germany was going to make them get up at 5 AM the next morning to run a few laps to satisfy his autistic need for schedule. He had to get things moving or else he’d be dead in the water with no sleep and no Germussy.

The brunette brought his face close to his lover’s ear and he whispered, “Jahmany, you know I find that-a worrywort side of you-a cute too, but right-a now let me take-a the lead alright?”

For emphasis he proceeded to place a chaste kiss on the back of his husband’s jaw.

Germany’s ears began to burn from the blood rushing to them. In all these years he never could get used to the feeling of the Italian’s lips on his skin. He fumbled trying to formulate a proper response to the man’s compliment and interruption, ending up uttering out, “Ja– y-you too.”

Italy took this as his greenlight to start attacking the man’s face with his own.

Before Germany could overthink about his failure of a response, he felt his husband’s lips press firmly to his.

The shorter man laced their fingers together as he pinned the German’s hands above his head on the bed. Knowing his lover was the type who would always forget to breathe through his nose (it was alright, at least he finally stopped keeping his eyes open while smooching), he broke the kiss before diving back down with more fervor. He swiped his tongue against the bottom lip of the man below him, asking for permission to enter his mouth. As always, his husband obliged and parted his lips modestly.

Germany always thought that feeling a tongue explore his mouth felt a bit weird at first. And in general the act was pretty unsanitary which wasn’t very pleasant either. But when he thought about how the kind of strange tasting tongue in his mouth was his beloved Italy’s, that alone was enough to make the experience enjoyable and start getting him heated up.

The blonde let out a few embarrassed sounds as Italy hummed in content against him before pulling away to see how the other was faring.

He was moving faster than usual since they had bigger fish to fry soon, but was pleased to see that the man below him was doing pretty well. Germany’s face was tickled pink as he panted heavily from, as usual, not breathing through his nose at all. He looked up at Italy in expectation as he unconsciously pursed his lips a bit in an attempt to get rid of the excessive saliva on the corner of his mouth.

The Italian, in an act of true chivalry, kissed the corner of his husband’s mouth to get rid of the excess spit and then began to trail kisses down his jaw and to the wide expanse of his neck.

Instinctually, the taller man craned his neck to give his lover a better angle to nip and nibble at him, but also gave a small protest of surprise, “vait Italy– usually ve–ah! Spend m-more time… mm… k-kissing don’t ve?”

The man paused his assault and lifted his head from the crook of the blonde’s neck.

“Well we have-a lot of-a things to do Jahmany! This-a time kissing isn’t our-a main-a course after all,” Italy replied, soaking in his husband’s flustered disposition to stop himself from diving back in to continue eating away at him.

“Zat iz true… but uhm…,” Germany averted his gaze and mumbled, “kissing iz mein favorite part… so uhm.. c-could we– do that a little more..”

Italy, in all honesty, had never been more aroused in his entire life.

Germany always had a habit of being overly considerate in their relationship in general and the Italian knew that when he didn’t ask for something it wasn’t that he didn’t care, it was just that he didn’t want to be pushy. Especially when it came to romance. So to hear him meekly request for something as sweet as a few more kisses– how could he deny him?

Italy smiled and let go of the blonde’s hands to cup his face and neck as he sweetly maneuvered his mouth to other’s for a little while longer. During which Germany found his arms settling wrapped around his lover’s torso.

As Italy pulled away he brought himself back to the man’s neck and reassured him, “don’t-a worry Jahmany, we’ll still be able to kiss-a later too,” finishing his statement with a chaste kiss behind his ear.

Germany only hugged his lover tighter as Italy resumed sucking dark hickies into his pale skin. He let out little yelps every time the brunette bit down on him and whimpered as the man licked away the marks apologetically afterwards.

“Ah—ah, Italien…,” the German mewled, into the crook of the brunette’s neck, “I- mm… I love you…”

“I-a love you too Germania,” the shorter man breathed into the other man’s skin only to feel him immediately tense up.

Germany swiftly moved his hands to his husband’s shoulder and pushed him away to make eye contact in a deathly serious fashion.

“Italy,” he said while looking him dead in the eye, “do not call me Germania.”

The Italian was startled by such a reaction and blurted out, “wh– why?” with an incredulous look on his face.

“That’s the name of my grandfather.”

Fuck.

Both men did not know how to proceed with their intimate moment together after an interruption like that.

Luckily, before Italy could make a stupid joke that would inevitably downward spiral into them sleeping in bed with awkward half boners together he remembered that in his pocket he had a small charm gifted to him by England. It was given to him as an aid in case something went wrong during his and Germany’s night together. Thank god for him going to England for that fortune telling beforehand!

He immediately pulled out the charm and threw it on the ground before Germany could react and a large poof of smoke surrounded him. As the smoke dissipated he realized he was in the same position he was in before he called his husband by his grandfather’s name.

“Ah—ah Italien…,” the German mewled, into the crook of the brunette’s neck, “I- mm… I love you…”

This time, a much wiser Italy breathed into his skin, “I-a love-a you too Germany” and he felt his lover bury his face deeper into his neck.

Hey guys so this is the part where you read a sex scene written by a guy who has never held hands with someone in his entire life

Through their close embrace, both men could feel the other beginning to harden through their clothes. But this time was different, since for once the two men would be able to do something about their soon to be full mast dicks and that thought alone excited them both further.

Now kissing Germany’s neck less aggressively with only slow, closed mouth presses to his skin, Italy moved his hands and began to unbutton his husband’s collared shirt. He trailed his sappy smooches down to the man’s vast chest that he was oh so familiar with. Shifting his hands to cup the German’s pecs he huffed in displeasure as he felt they were hard and flexed. The brunette rested his face in between his lover’s pecs and looked up at him with the best puppy eyes he could muster.

“Relax for me Jahmany, I-a like them when they’re soft,” he requested, still cupping the hard masses in his palms.

The taller man closed his eyes and muttered out a hesitant, “ja ja” as he willed his muscles to untense. The Italian made a pleased noise as he squished the man’s large pecs in his hands. Truely, a delight better than any girl could provide, he thought to himself.

He experimentally moved his thumbs to push on the other man’s nipples and felt the blonde’s pecs instantly harden once again.

Germany instinctually hugged him much tighter, causing the Italian’s body to press up firmly against his as he let out a surprised “ah!” and inquired, “V-Vhat do you zink you’re doing” through squinted eyes.

“I’m-a playing with your chest Jahmany,” the Italian replied in a cheeky tone, as he proceeded to continue gently messing around with his husband’s pink nubs.

“Ja… vut– nngh you’ve never done somezing vike– ah- zhis b—before,”

“Do you-a like it?”

“It- mmm feels… vierd.. I don’t know if– if it’z ze good… vierd,” the German replied, scrunching together his brows as he consciously loosened his grip on his lover to make sure to not hurt him.

Italy hummed in acknowledgement. It didn’t appear that his lover’s boner was getting any stiffer as he continued playing with his chest. So after a few moments he decided to hell with it and asked, “how does-a this feel then?” before he proceeded to roughly grind his thigh directly into Germany’s crotch.

He instantly felt his husband’s thighs squeeze around his leg as the German threw his head back; hand clamping over his own mouth to suppress the moan that erupted from him. His back arched as his body shuddered. Italy was momentarily concerned that his lover just prematurely ejaculated, but also thought to himself that it would still be kinda cute if he did. Luckily, he knew the man didn’t as he felt Germany unconsciously rock himself slightly against his thigh, searching for more pleasure.

The blonde reached down to grab at Italy’s thigh between his legs before jerking his hand away and choosing to modestly grip at the sheets near their lower regions instead.

“I–ah I vike it–,” he stuttered as he brought his head back forward to face the Italian, face burning red and eyes tightly shut, “I–I vike it down zhere, ah–”

Well then. If the man says he likes it down there then Italy supposes he could sacrifice the rest of the boobies time to indulge him.

Nevermind how Italy could physically feel the blood in his body rushing towards his vital regions after seeing a reaction like that.

The shorter man continued unbuttoning the rest of his husband’s shirt as he trailed kisses down his torso, slowly grinding his leg into the man’s crotch to keep him from becoming impatient. Germany gripped the sheets tighter as he let out a string of “ah”s with every rocking motion. Unconsciously, he tried to speed up the pace, but Italy held his hips firmly in place.

Once the Italian had finished releasing the bottom and final button of the other man’s shirt, he quickly unbuckled his lover’s belt as well and stripped the man of his pants and underwear in one go. Germany let out a squeak in surprise and wanted to kill himself for making such a shameful sound. That was until he felt the cool air hit his now fully hardened dick and realized Italy was staring right at it, now he wanted to double kill himself.

“D—don’t just stare right at it!,” he scolded while curling his legs inwards and covering said regions with both hands.

The brunette let out a confused ve, “ehhhh? why? I-a literally stare directly at it every time we-a go to the public baths with Japan. I already-a know what you’re-a packing”.

“That’s true but!-- Right now ze situation iz all different okay?!,” The German protested, “It’z not ze same vhen I know you actually vant to get— erm– i-intimate vith me!! Just vike how zis is different than all zhose times you made me zit next to you vhile you masturbated at night because you vere scared of ze dark! It’z not vike you vere masturbating thinking of ME!”

Italy decided to refrain mentioning how all those times he WAS masturbating thinking about Germany actually. The entire masturbating “scared of the dark” thing was an Italian way of flirting even, but that would be an explanation for another time. Instead he bent down and gently pried back open the blonde’s legs causing the blonde to let out another “eep” in protest.

“But you’re so pretty Germany,” he replied, pushing his lover back down with his hand as the other caressed the man’s thigh, “can’t I have a looksie at my husband?”

He didn’t dare let out the urge he felt to giggle when he saw Germany’s hard on twitch a little at the praise. The blonde didn’t respond verbally, but allowed his lover to continue his ministrations with no resistance as he buried his face into the pillow next to him to hide his shame.

He’s so easy, it’s adorable. Italy thought to himself.

He continued to massage out little whimpers as he caressed the man’s legs while unbuttoning his own shirt. He decided that tonight he wouldn’t force Germany to strip him back. Since even as adorable as it would be to see his husband awkwardly fumble with his clothing and somehow turn even more flustered from being teased, he himself was getting a little impatient and wanted to get to sloppy sex already.

He briefly stopped his ministrations for a moment to peel the shirt off himself and toss it to the side. Despite how much he wished he could see the blonde’s expression right now, he was a little grateful that the man still had his face buried in the pillow next to him, since half of him was worried that he would make Italy pause and fold his shirt if he saw him throw it to the side.

Germany lifted his head from the pillow after noticing that the massaging had come to a stop only to throw it back once again with an arched back when Italy began nipping at his inner thighs.

The blonde yelped and clenched the bed sheets beside him as he felt his husband wrap his hands around his cock, whispering sweet nothings into his soft flesh, “ha–AH!-”

“Ah— ahn– neughh–,” he moaned ungracefully as he felt the Italian play with the tip a bit with his thumb.

“Mio prezioso, are you-a ready to have your first blowjob?,” Italy asked as he kept the German’s legs spread with one hand while bringing his face closer to the member in his other palm.

Unfortunately, he never made contact. Right before his mouth touched the tip he heard Germany let out a high pitched cry and the penis in front of him sprayed him directly in the face with semen.

Both men went still for a moment, until Italy brought his fingers to his face and then brought them to his mouth to have a taste of the sticky white substance.

Watching Italy begin to taste his cum snapped Germany out of his trance and he immediately wretched the brunette's hand away from his mouth yelling, “ITALY DO NOT EAT ZAT!!!”

The Italian pulled his hand back, “no, no wait-a minute Jahmany.”

He scooped some more onto his index finger and placed it in his mouth for a moment, really contemplating the flavor this time. “Hey this actually tastes-a pretty good! Like not-a spread it on your toast everyday level-a good, but better than those-a nasty sausages you-a gave me that one time we pinky promised to be-a best friends forever! Do you think it’s-a because we’re countries?”

Germany was about to ask Italy what the hell was wrong with him until the weight of how he just not only prematurely ejaculated, but also prematurely ejaculated all over his husband’s face set in.

Oh mein gott what is wrong with ME? He thought to himself as a horrified expression crept in his features.

Italy, sensing the blonde’s mood change quickly grabbed his wrists before he could put his hands on his face and go full “I wish I was never born” on him.

“Hey-hey Jahmany! Don’t-a worry about creaming on-a my face! You know I honestly kinda like it–I just-a told you that you taste like-a solid 6/10 yummy!,” Italy rambled out, jerking the other man’s wrists around in lue of his usual hand gestures, “And it’s-a fine that you finished-a teensy bit early! It’s-a your first time you know? If-a anything, honestly I think it’s-a really cute! Lookit me I’m-a even harder than before!”

He looked down at his own tented pants to encourage his husband to do the same. In his peripheral vision he spotted a wonderful sight though.

His eyes trailed over to Germany’s penis that was still erect as ever, even after finishing once.

Germany had told him before that he could schedule his monthly masturbation time block since he knew that he was only physically capable of finishing one time. Despite being one of the youngest countries, he had the stamina of a grandfather and told the shorter man that it was simply impossible for him to do more than one round.

Italy knew his husband was not the type who would lie to him, so him still being erect in the current moment must be a very new and unexpected development. That much he could conclude from how also Germany seemed just as shocked as he was about his little guy still fighting strong.

In his head, the brunette gave a prayer thanking God for always being so gracious to him and promising to start attending church again. Once he finished he lunged back on top of the taller man, knocking him back over and under him and whispered in his ear, “Jahmany, if it’s-a okay with you, do you-a mind letting me-a take care of that for you?”

Still reeling from the mountains of shame he felt for finishing too quickly earlier he protested, “nein! V–vhat about yourself?! If anyzing I should be ze one taking care of you!”

He internally cursed himself for not studying the book series harder. He would say to hell with it and try taking the wheel, but flashbacks of buon san valentino flashed in his mind and he lost all confidence in himself. One book studied was not enough for then, so only one book studied for now definitely wouldn’t be enough to maneuver through this.

Italy felt his heart squeeze a little and kissed Germany’s cheek as he reassured him, “you’re so sweet mio tesoro. I love that considerate side to you, but don’t worry Jahmany, I’ll take care of both of us this time.”

“V-vut–”

“Trust me,” The Italian requested as he pulled himself up and grabbed a bottle of lube from the bedside counter, “what I-a have in mind will-a definately feel good for-a both of us thanks to-a my technique.”

The German watched as his husband poured a generous amount of the substance on his fingers, fully realizing what the man was alluding to.

“Now-a my Germany, will you-a spread your legs for me please?,” the shorter man asked with a smile.

The taller man felt his face begin to steam again and coyly opened his legs. He glanced back and forth between his lover and the wall until he closed his eyes and muttered, “be gentle… okay?”

Italy almost couldn’t contain himself from how cute his husband could be. He circled his middle finger around the rim of the blonde’s hole as he leaned over to his face and planted a gentle kiss. He reassured him, “don’t worry, just tell me if somethings wrong” as he slowly plunged the finger inside of him.

The taller man squirmed in discomfort and the Italian planted gentle kisses along his neck to soothe him.

“Is it-a alright? How does it-a feel?”

“It’z… vierd… it doesn’t hurt zhough…mmnn.. you can move…”

Gently as promised, Italy slowly plunged in and out with his lubed up middle finger, feeling the warm interiors of his husband. Soft squelches resonated within the room.

“...Italy… I zink I’m ready for anothzer vun…,” Germany mumbled as he became used to the intrusion.

He only squirmed a little bit when the second finger entered him. This time he quickly found himself becoming accustomed to the sensation and asked for another. He was about to mentally congratulate himself for adapting so quickly, but stopped himself once he realized he was about to feel proud of being able to get used to being fingered quickly.

The blonde felt a slight burn when the third heavily lubed finger entered him and let out a small, “ah—ah-”. He wrapped his arms around his husband and whined into his neck. Italy gently shushed him and continued soothing him with kisses and praise as he carefully stretched the German open.

He gently scissored the man’s hole as he went in and out, searching for his lover’s prostate.

Germany in all honesty was getting a bit tired, since the sensation wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it didn’t really feel good either. He had practiced on his own before for Italy, but he couldn’t figure out how to make it feel like much else than just fingers in his ass. Plus the rim of his hole was starting to burn from the fingers going in and out. But it did feel good to know that Italy was going to feel really good soon, and that part did keep him turned on and hard.

Suddenly, Italy’s fingers touched a certain spot and he felt as though a flash of lightning struck through him. He let out a loud moan as he white knuckled the sheets and forced his legs not to clench together.

Italy’s face lit up and he happily cheered, “Jahmany! Jahmany I finally found your prostate! I bet that-a felt really good didn’t it!!” He removed his fingers with a shlick and poured a generous amount of lube on his own dick that was now so hard it was almost painful.

“J… Ja.. zat did feel good,” Germany uttered in response, feeling a bit empty without the fingers.

“I’m glad Jahmany! After all, I want-a this to feel good for you too.”

The shorter man lined himself up against his husband’s hole and leaned the rest of his body down to meet their faces together.

“Jahmany, are you-a ready?”

“J—Ja, I trust you Italien,” Germany replied, meeting his eyes to show that he was serious with no doubts.

Italy smiled and leaned down to sweetly kiss the man below him as he slowly entered.

Germany wrapped his arms tighter around Italy as he carefully went deeper and deeper, a low burn growing from the intrusion. The blonde let out little “ah”s as Italy reminded him to relax and soothed him by running his hands down the man’s sides until he was fully inside him.

They paused for a moment to let the taller man adjust a bit to the member stuck inside him.

After a minute or so of Germany squirming and Italy fighting for his life not to bust a nut instantly, the taller man muttered, “I’m okay now… you can move Italy.”

Italy grit his eyes closed as he slowly moved in and out. Germany was tight– freaking too tight even– holy shit. Italy thought about making a joke about how he didn’t expect to get circumcised this way, but held himself back knowing it would ruin the mood. Instead he whispered in his husband’s ear, “Cuore mio, relax for me. It's alright, you can do this, just relax.”

“Of.. of course Italy”

He felt the taller man bury his face into the brunette’s neck as he slowly softened around him, still on the tight side, but at least it wasn’t a gorilla grip anymore.

Italy set back on his steady, slow pace. Each thrust eliciting a little moan from the man beneath him. He kept at it for a bit, trying to figure out what angle to thrust at to hit the man’s prostate once again until he did a thrust and felt the blonde clench harshly around him, arching his back as he did so.

Now having confidence in knowing where to hit, he quickened his pace and aimed towards that same spot. “You’re so good for me Germany, you know that?”

Germany’s face steamed even hotter somehow. “Ah, Italien— ah— mmm— mmmphh–,” he covered his mouth to muffle his moans that came spilling out uncontrollably.

“Jahmany don’t deprive me, I want to hear all the cute sounds you make,” Italy panted as he snatched the German’s hands away from his mouth.

“Good boy, good boy.”

He kissed the man once again as he continued to pick up the pace, whispering sweet words of praise into his husband’s ear.

The taller man whimpered and tears pricked his eyes as he arched his back. The Italian moved his hands to the German’s hips to get better leverage, while his husband hugged his legs and arms around Italy.

“Ah, ah, I love you– I love you Italy–,” Germany babbled into Italy’s shoulder, “I-I really love you– Ich liebe d—dich!-”

The shorter man knew his lover liked kissing best, but how could he expect Italy to kiss him when he kept saying these kinds of cute things when he didn’t?

“Anch'io ti amo Jahmany– ti amo tanto!,” he replied, feeling himself hitting the edge soon.

He needed to wrap things up soon, so he let go of his husband’s hip with the hand still slippery from lube and used that to start stroking the blonde’s cock vigorously.

“Ah– AH! Nuugh– that– that feels— Ah! r—really.. G-good—,” Germany mewled, “I– I feel —Ah, ah, s-something— build.. ngh— ing up–! I— ah– Ah– I think–”

“Do you– you hah— think you’re going to come?”

Italy picked up his pace, both stroking his dick and slamming into him.

“Then come for me Germany”

Germany spasmed and let out a broken string of moans as he came. He hugged Italy tight and the brunette could feel his walls clenching around him, bringing the shorter man over the brink as well with a loud groan.

He pumped into the man below him a few more times, riding out his orgasm as Germany whimpered from becoming a little overstimulated.

He pulled out slowly, before collapsing on top of his lover and instinctually burying his face into the man’s tits.

Both of them lay panting for a moment, as Italy maneuvered himself to lay next to his lover, and gathered him up in a hug that Germany weakly reciprocated.

“Well, Germany, what did you think of your first time having sex?,” Italy inquired.

Germany, now becoming fully lucid again, first realized how sweaty and sticky he felt, thus he replied, “Sticky.”

He thought for a little bit longer.

“But I also admit it was good. Even if I acted a bit shamefully…,” he lowered his eyes and averted his gaze.

Italy laughed and only hugged his husband tighter.

The blonde felt discomfort from the two warm and sweaty bodies pressing up against each other even closer, but nevertheless hugged his lover back because even though his body felt warm, his heart felt warm too. His body also felt kinda sore. Maybe even a lot sore. Actually he might have to rethink his 5 AM jogging laps with the condition his body was currently in.

But that was still fine too, since he probably would’ve only done a quarter of his laps anyways since Italy would be with him and get distracted by a cat or something.

For now, he settled with snuggling into Italy’s arms and began to doze off to sleep, exhausted from their activities.

That is until he felt the Italian bolt up after five minutes and shake his shoulder asking, “hey Germany wanna go for round two?”

#-fic #-germany #-hetalia #-itager #-italy #-yaoi #sorry the sex parts themselves honestly suck ass #i didnt write them good because you can tell i got shy and embarassed #i was too shy. gommene next time ill write them better 🙏

[starwarsbian]

can you feel my heart

listened to can you feel my heart by bring me the horizon the entire time

p in v, fingering, finger sucking,,leather? pet names, established relationship, emo boy anakin, modern au

tw cw: rough sex, knife play mention, gun play mention, breeding if you squint, impact play, degrading, pussy slapping dick piercing, he calls you his bitch Sorry LOL…

a/n: i would luv to write a part two LOL this is my first time like publically posting smth i wrote be nice to me i also refuse to use capitalization just read it anyway it is also not proofread! at all! don’t mind my corny ass dialogue

anakin pulls up right outside your house in his shitty beater car, and you expect nothing less from him. he looks quite scary to other people, you think, and he is kind of an asshole but he makes up for it.

you get in the car and watch as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth swearing under his breath over how good you look—he’s obsessed. his lip piercing catching on his own teeth he says “fuck, you look good.. always look so fucking good.”

you have no real plans for the day you just needed to see him. you blush and flash him a smile. “thanks, ani. i’m happy to see you. give me a kiss?”

he doesn’t wait a moment to pull you closer to him inside the car and press your lips together. “happy to see you too, baby..what did you want to do?”

“let’s go back to your place, yeah? i have something i want to show you…”

“what? what do you have to show me?”

you shake your head. “not yet, anakin. get me alone.”

“fine, brat.”

anakin pulls out of your driveway and winds down just the few streets that separate your houses. he throws the car into park and all but rips you out of the car. he pulls you into the house by the hand before immediately pinning you against the door as soon as it closes.

“what was that, baby? about showing me something?” he slams his lips into yours again and winds his fingers through the hair at the nape of your neck. he tugs and it sends your head tilting back, exposing your throat.

he starts with kisses and that quickly turns to sucking and then that turns into biting.

he sinks his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder and squeezes your left breast; pinching your nipple through your bralette.

“yeah…i do. take my shirt and skirt off, ani.”

and he does, maybe too fast for his liking. he kicks himself metaphorically for not taking more time but as his attention comes back to the present his breath hitches in his throat at the sight of you wearing a lacey black bralette with matching panties and..bands of leather wrapped around your plush thighs. you purposely put them on in a way where your flesh bulges just a little between the gaps. they’re simply decorative and don’t specifically serve a purpose for you but a dirty, dirty thought goes through anakins head.

“jesus christ. jesus. fucking. christ. get to the bedroom, now,” anakin growls.

you throw yourself down onto his bed and wait for him to come press his body on top of yours but he doesn’t. instead he fucks around with his phone, making you feel ignored and pout.

“ani, i put this on for you. what are you doing?”

“fuck, baby. just wait a second. i’m going to absolutely ruin you and as much as i’d love for the neighbors to hear me fucking wreck you..i think you’d prefer if they didn’t? or do you not want me to play music?”

you’d rather him do everything he wants to you without worrying about sound. “play the music, anakin.”

he presses play and can you feel my heart starts. anakin takes his shirt off in that way that guys do where they reach behind themselves to grab the back of their shirt— yknow that way. his shoulders and arms are your obsession, honestly and the movement is delightful to watch.

he pounces on the bed and grabs you by the waist, pulling you up to meet his kiss. his very hard, messy, fast kiss. it’s seconds before his hands snake down your body, sliding his fingers under the straps on your thighs before hiking you up onto his lap. resting against his cock. anakin uses the straps to push you back and forth on top of him. the friction makes him stutter and his eyes are low with need.

“you put these on for me to grab? you thought id like to see you dressed like a slut..with special little handles for me to hold while i wreck you.”

“yes-yes ani. this is what i wanted.”

he slaps your cunt. a first for you and him but the pathetic look on your face made it clear you planned to tease him. anakin doesn’t like to be teased. he owns you and he doesn’t need to play games about it.

“i’m gonna hold them and fuck you then. pull you hard back against my cock and listen to you scream.”

his hand slides down your front pressing his fingers against your clothed clit. a moan escapes your mouth..anakin holds the left side of your face and pauses to ask, “is this okay? can this be rough? can i slap you around like a whore..”

“fuck, yes. hit me anakin. please, baby. fucking smack me. hurt me”

a huge grin spreads across his face as he pulls back his right hand and slaps you straight across the face. once..twice..three times. your eyes water and your cunt throbs…feeling your heartbeat in two places.

“you’re such a fucking slut. what kind of whore calls her boyfriend to come get her just to be smacked around and fucking used. that’s what i’m going to do. i’m going to use you.”

shivers are sent up your spine at the sound of his words. you love when he talks to you like this. anakin tears off your matching set with absolutely no regard to what you want to do with it. the song continues in the background and you let yourself moan at his eagerness and disregard.

“please, anakin. i want you to use me. that’s what i’m for.”

he slaps your cunt again and you buck your hips towards him as he grinds his thumb down a little too hard on your clit and leans down to pant in your ear.

anakin unbottons his black jeans and kicks them off while you watch, mesmerized by the outline of his hard cock in his boxers. his expression hardens even more and he smirks as you reach out, hoping he’d let you touch him.

“come here, then, darling. come touch it.”

you’ve done this with anakin before but your breathing is still shaking and your hands tremble as they pull down his boxers. he’s so hard..his tip weeping and bordering on purple..the shiny barbell through his cock still takes your breath away. you rub your thumb across the tip and hear anakin hiss.

“i just want to fuck you, don’t worry about me. lay down and spread your legs.”

you do as he says and you expect him to go in the direction of preparing you to take him but instead he kisses and bites your thighs. he sucks and takes his time working you up. your cunt is dripping right in front of him.

“you look so pretty..your cunt looks so fucking pretty, angel. god, you drive me fucking insane. i don’t know how i control myself most of the time. i think of the dirtiest things to do to you, baby and you don’t even know.”

“like what anakin? show me..let me feel it.”

anakin scoffs and laughs at you. “i don’t know, baby. i don’t want to hurt you if you don’t want to be hurt. you know i love you? right?”

“fuck, anakin. yea i know. i love you i want you to ruin me. do it now im tired of asking.”

something inside him breaks. he grabs your hips bruisingly hard and spits in your face.

“who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, slut? because i know it can’t be me. say you’re sorry. now.”

you shake your head…knowing it’s going to piss him off even more.

“no? what do you mean no? did you fucking hear me,” he growls at you before supporting the side of your face with his hand and smacking you scarily hard. he wraps his hands around your throat, only squeezing the sides. he doesn’t actually want to hurt you; not like that.

“you’re my bitch. i’m going to take you like you’re my bitch,” his voice softens “your safe word is flower. don’t hesitate to tell me if it’s too much, okay? i still want to take care of you and i swear i’m going to make you feel good.”

you blush and nod as he moves his hand up towards your face again..you flinch; fully expecting him to slap you again, but he doesn’t. he wants you to open your mouth and suck on his fingers.

anakin fucks your throat with them, rings and all. you choke on the metallic taste and stare at him with glassy eyes as you do what he expects.

“mmm..m gonna fuck you with these. roll over. darling.”

you roll onto your tummy and feel anakins hands glide up and down your thighs and ass. he teases and touches your slit..

“awe baby…she’s crying for me do you feel that? wants me so bad…,” as he spreads your lips enough to see you’re aching hole and pretty little clit. he pinches it…twisting between his fingers just a little. he stops and slaps your cunt again before splitting you open with two fingers without a warning.

you gasp and force your hips back towards the intrusion; sending anakin even further into you than he was planning. “well baby..since you insist,” he chuckles.

anakin begins to finger you at a devastating pace and angle. the feeling of you on his hand is almost as good as on his cock. he loves to feel you clench and see you whine when he purposely strokes your g-spot. he speeds up: massaging and prodding the soft spot inside you while you moan and desperately try to get him to kiss you.

he grabs the straps around your thighs and lifts you onto his lap. “grind on me, babe. feel how hard i am for you.”

“ani…i want you. i want your cock. come on stop teasing.”

“nothing is ever good enough for you huh? you’re so fucking pathetic and needy. come here.”

anakin lines himself up with your weeping hole and forces himself all the way in. he presses on your lower stomach and bites your shoulder.

“you look so beautiful. stay still for me.”

anakin holds you a few inches above his lap before he starts to thrust up into you. you drip further down his cock and he can’t help but stuff you full as soon as possible.

“i wanna fucking hurt you..i want to cut you. sweetheart…i wanna hold a knife to your pretty little throat or better yet? a gun to your head. letting you suck my cock shaking with fear ‘ani!! no! please don’t hurt me’ but really all i want is to fuck your throat while you’re so scared you’re Soaked.”

your heart races and you nod rapidly, unable to even get words out of your mouth.

anakin pushes harder into you and feels you throb around him..your clit aches for his fingertips. he tells you to turn around; his cock inside you but with your back pressed against his chest. he continues to fuck up into you and wraps his hand around your throat..hard enough to feel your pulse.

“i can feel your heart pounding. you like this? you like when your boyfriend says dirty things to you and fills you to the brim with cock? you’re so excited, huh?”

his grin can be felt against your shoulder while he reaches to your front. using his center two fingers he does small quick circles on top of your clit. “i can feel your heart here too, baby.”

heat spreads across your entire body as you give in completely to whatever anakin wants from you.

this is for u bae @jjjajjaahhahahaha

#Spotify #star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin smut #emo boy anakin #modern au #star wars smut #this was self indulgent #i’m a lesbian but hc has me by the throat

[jeannineee]

Hi hi! Would you be interested in writing a Eris NSFW alphabet? ❤️

NSFW Alphabet (Eris Vanserra)

a/n: requests are open!!

nsfw under the cut (18+, minors be gone)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very very gentle with you. He can be quite rough, so he’ll ask over and over again if you’re okay. He’ll bathe you, massage your sore muscles.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

For him, probably his arms. He’s very well-built. He loves holding you up against the wall as he fucks you, or using his arms to pins you. Also loves when you dig your nails into them.

For you? He strikes me as a leg man, idk why. He loves your thighs, how they feel wrapped around his waist, or when you squeeze them around his head when he goes down on you. He loooves marking them, too.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Prefers to come inside of you. But when you take him down your throat, he likes to finish on your tongue, and watch you swallow. (I’m disgusting sorry LMFAO)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’d definitely be down to share you. Maybe even with someone he hates. (read: Azriel or Cassian)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Remember in ACOWAR, when Brannagh says, “Autumn Court males have fire in their blood. And they fuck like it too.” ????

Eris can FUCK. No question about it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

When he’s feeling more gentle, missionary.

But his favorite is probably doggy, or reverse cowgirl, with him thrusting up into you. He can slap your ass and pull your hair easily in those positions.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I don’t see him being goofy, honestly. Unless you’re a one night stand.

If he’s with you long term, though? He takes it seriously.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Yes the carpet matches the drapes. He’s well trimmed, just a small patch of hair above base of his cock.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Eris can definitely be intimate with you, and he enjoys that.

But he prefers fucking you senseless.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Rarely ever does it after he meets you. Unless you have to be away from each other.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Oh boy!!!!

Brat taming, Wax play (the man has fire powers, come on), pain play, spanking, degradation, praise, bdsm in general

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Prefers your bedroom, but if you’re being a brat he’ll yank you into an empty closet or corridor and remind you who you belong to.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When you’re bratty, or giving him attitude. He likes the challenge.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything is on the table, but he won’t do anything you’re uncomfortable with.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I think he’s fairly equal, here.

Loves taking his time between your thighs, lapping at your folds, sucking your clit until you’re begging him to stop.

But!! Also loves seeing your lips wrapped around his cock. He likes throatfucking, if you let him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Generally pretty rough, but he does have moment when he’s gentle and slow with you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Doesn’t prefer them, unless you’re teasing him or being a brat.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes!! Has definitely bent you over the table in his study while people mill about in the hall only several feet away.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can go all night, easily. He’s fae, come on.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Uh, duh.

Blindfolds, rope, vibrators, dildos, leg spreaders, etc. he has anything you can imagine, and will buy anything you want.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He is MEAN. He’ll whisper in your ear alllll day.

“Can’t wait to feel you wrapped around my cock.”

And then he’ll pretend like nothing happened, the ass.

He’ll touch you under your dress during meetings, fingers barely ghosting over your clit. He is veryyyy unfair.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not super loud, until he’s close. Mostly grunts and groans.

He’s loud when you go down on him, though.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

This isn’t nsfw, but I think he’s bisexual. I will die on that hill.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s PACKING. Long, and thick. It takes a minute to get used to his size, every time the two do you have sex.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Very very high. He could take you anytime.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He falls asleep pretty quickly, but he always makes sure that you’re asleep, first.

#acotar #acotar headcanon #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #smut #acomaf #female reader #Eris Vanserra #Eris Vanserra smut #eris vanserra x reader #acosf #acowar #acofas

[garciaasfluffypen]

bright beginnings pt. 10

pairing: single dad!joseph quinn x fem!reader  wc: 868  warnings: grace being sneaky but in a good way i promise

part nine • part eleven

a/n: hi sorry im so bad at uploading mental health went poopy stinky but im back

“grace elizabeth vandien!” joe gasped, practically hitting the phone out of grace’s hand. “you did not just friend request my employee!” 

“well she’s cute and clearly you need to get your head out of your ass, so if you don’t do it i will.” 

“you’re not playing cupid.”

“and you’re stupid if you think i’m going to listen to you.” 

“i cannot believe you’ve done this.” 

“well believe it, buckaroo. this is happening whether you like it or not.” 

joe had to stop himself from shoving grace off the couch, instead choosing to throw a pillow at her face before getting up to pace the room. there was no way this was going to turn out good. there absolutely wasn’t. but it wasn’t like he was nervous, right? granted, the last person he was with was julia. she didn’t really do much in terms of their relationship, seeing as it appeared to be purely transactional. and the fact that she left the kids with joe a majority of the time. he wasn’t going to lie, the honeymoon phase was nice, but it didn’t last much longer than six months before he started noticing a few things. then six turned into twelve, julia got pregnant and those twelve months turned into 23 with divorce papers in his hands. and now the twins were three, he was sex deprived and dear god, he just-- 

but he couldn’t, could he? he wasn’t going to lie, y/n was one of the only things on his mind lately. okay so maybe he had looked at her profile picture on facebook for too long. and memorized the freckles on her cheeks and how some of them almost looked like the little dipper if you squinted just enough. or how her cousin commented “so hot so pretty you need a boyfriend” on every profile picture and y/n would just reply with an eyeroll emoji and a “get me one then”. how she laughed so gracefully when the kids at the daycare did something funny. or cute. or both. how she took such great care of the twins and didn’t care at all that they attached themselves to her. 

yeah, maybe he needed a new relationship. he needed to stop thinking about y/n. he needed--

“joe, get out of your head.” grace lightly slapped his cheeks. “i promise i won’t say anything too out of pocket to her.” 

“grace!” 

“i’m joking! mostly. listen, you know your worth and you deserve to have it. julia can suck my ten inch clit, and if she pulls a fuss to her lawyer about you moving on you can literally bring up the fact she leaves you with the kids and breaks her custody agreement almost weekly to go fuck some guy on whatever costal island she flies to with daddies money. you. deserve. so. much. better. don’t stop yourself from pursuing this because of some silly little lady who can’t tell her left from her right.”

“i— she’s not directionally challenged.”

“that’s not my point.” grace rolled her eyes. “stop being such a worry wort and just get back out there! what’s wrong with going on one date with y/n?” 

“well for one, if it goes bad we might lose our best employee.” 

“i doubt she would quit if the date goes that roughly. and you gotta believe in yourself, dude. you had everyone in college swooning over you. it’s a surprise you’re not playing some heartthrob metal head somewhere on tv that everyone is going to fall in love with.”

“stop reminding me of my failed dreams.” joe dramatically flopped back on the couch. “i’d much rather be on tv than running a daycare.”

“but you’re doing a damn good job at it. honestly? i think it's your calling.” 

“huh?”

“working with kids. maybe you could like, develop a show about a couple in a daycare that falls in love and has like ten babies.” 

“y/n and i are not going to have ten babies.” 

“i never said that.” grace cheekily smiled as she typed away on her phone. “and besides, you never know what’ll happen.” 

“i have two, and they are more than enough right now, thank you very much.” 

grace rolled her eyes. “puh-lease, you want more kids and you know it.”

“i do know it, but i have two three year olds.” 

“and like, how many girls watching them constantly? joe. i’m going to be blunt and you’re going to take it. you need to get laid. and i’m going to help you get laid.” 

“i- grace…” 

“listen, i’m gonna find you someone. even if it’s on tinder, okay?” grace pushed herself off of the couch. “i’m gonna head out because i have an 8am, but i’ll send you updates. also send me your favorite pictures of yourself in case i end up making you a tinder.”

“i don’t want to be on tinder.”

“i’ll do bumble then.” grace paused in the doorframe.  “oh, before i forget, y/n and i are getting tea tomorrow, i’ll let you know how it goes!” 

and with that, grace shut the door and joe was left to once again scream into his pillow.

#imagine joseph quinn #joseph quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn rpf #bright beginnings universe

[headfullofpresley]

I was wondering how would you describe Elvis and his personality and differences, romantically/sexually, across his different eras? it's an interesting topic and I'd like to understand more about him from a fact-based perspective. thank you!

hi nonnieeee! i love this question and i love talking about elvis, so thank you sm for this. 💕

this got wayyy longer than expected, so check under the cut!

soooo, let's start off with elvis in the 1950s.

we all know elvis loved women and in my opinion, he was a cheeky bastard (lovingly). when elvis had his sights set on someone, he got them- simple as that. except for brigitte bardot, sorry el 👀. anyways, he was flirtyyyy as hell. the part in good rockin' tonight where he goes "why don't you come to my house and i'll give it to you?" actually came out of his own mouth irl (and i will never get over it). also, when he told june he was crazy about her ass and was shamelessly looking at her ass. and remember the letters he sent to anita when he was in germany?

"every time i lay in my bunk and i see your little eyes and your little nose and it's almost like you're here, like you're pressed up close to me. i can feel your little hair on the side of my face and sometimes i get so excited and want you so bad, i start sweating"

i think he definitely had his fun in germany. this shouldn't be a surprise.

i mean, he was a young male in his twenties and got the attention from girls left and right- and he liked it. he definitely was not shy and when it comes to sex, i don't think he was either. he told larry that he screwed pretty much anything in sight a week before he had to report in 1958 and i believe it. he later learned that there was more to it than only the physical act, but i mean... if i was a male in my 20s and looked like elvis, i would've done the same. 👀

if you want to use the term sub or dom, i think he was a dom but not in the way we know it today??? i was obv not there, but i can't be convinced he was a big sub or sub at all (even though i love subby men🥴). i just think he was in that standard "man role" if you know what i mean- and i believe this goes for all era's, tbh. he was also pretty jealous at times which honestly makes me giggle sometimes but also makes me want to slap his face a lil bit. anyways, in my opinion; he was at that age where you're exploring things in your sex life and finding out what you do and don't like and just like any other human being, he did just that. with... a lot.. of different.. girls. good for him. 💁🏼‍♀️

anyways, elvis in the 50s was a menace. and that's a hill i will die on.

nowwww elvis in the 1960s? on a whole 'nother level. i feel like he was still at that stage of exploring at the beginning of the 60s, but he certainly knew what he liked. he had girls who'd make videos of themselves and watch them on the tv/video set ups he brought into hotel rooms. i believe he even had a girl fly over when he stopped at a motel once? and i mean... work. priscilla and him used to roleplay a lil, so i think he enjoyed that along with taking videos and pictures.

i don't think he had any extreme kinks. feet? white underwear? liking girls to be virgins? hardly extreme. he wasn't too fond of women who gave birth though and did not have sex with them if they did, which honestly... sucks for the women that had children and for cilla (i would simply fight his ass, anywaaaayyyy). i also read that he didn't believe in mixed race marriage/couples in the early 60s, but his view on that changed in the 70s. i can't tell you how true this is, so take this as you will. considering how different times were back then, i don't think it's entirely impossible.

emphasizing here that i do not think elvis was racist in any way possible, but life and the way people thought about certain things were very different back then!!

anyways, i don't think elvis was a selfish lover, he strikes me as the kind of person who likes giving as much as receiving and again, i don't see him being submissive at all though also not extremely dominant. elvis was a dominant person in general, but i feel like he was a gentle lover and wouldn't force anyone to do something they don't want. he'd kind of ease the girls into what he likes, but he would also make himself very clear on things he doesn't like.

i think he was big on the touchy touchy and foreplay, but i do believe him and cilla had, or were close to having, sex. as in penetration, not feeling each other up only- which imo is normal, but for a lot of people it's a touchy subject bc of their age difference. despite sleeping with others also, he considered cilla to be the steady woman in his life and love and sex go hand in hand for most people, doesn't it?

also him and ann-margret? freaky deaky in the sheets, i can't be convinced otherwise. but i also believed they genuinely loved each other and had a connection and that's what elvis preferred over simple one night stands. he wanted someone to both talk to and make love with and i think because ann was closer to him in age and so free spirited, he was drawn to that. also the fact that she got married a week after he did in the same city breaks my HEART- but that's a whole different conversation.

AND i do think him and nancy had a thing going on. even though nancy always said it was platonic between them... one can dream, right? they looked cute together.

the 1970s, baby! who doesn't love the 70s? we all do. when it comes to elvis, a lot of people see him as the "daddy" and "big daddy elvis" persona but in my opinion, that's nothing but fictional.

elvis was big on the baby talk and used the term "mommy" for linda, but i highly doubt it was in a sexual manner. sure, none of us were actually there, but here we have a man that craved for deep human connections and love in several different girls, rather than just having a quick fuck and leave it at that. he liked to take care of his girls, but he also liked to be taken care of. i don't think elvis ever lost his interest in sex and liked sex throughout his entire life, but i do feel like things slowed down a little in the mid 70s. don't get me wrong- he was still definitely having sex, just not in the same way as when he was in his 20s, ya know? keep in mind he was not 100% healthy, as sad as that is.

elvis liked his girls petite and still, virgins. he gained a lot of experience through the years and i feel like he liked showing that experience to the younger females he dated. he liked to be The Man in relationships. the story about linda losing her virginity to him was honestly really sweet, he was extremely gentle with her, as it should be. and sure, elvis could be shy sometimes but imo not to an extreme- he was more so gentle and let's be honest, he knew just what the ladies liked. he knew how to sweep 'em off their feet. i think he was confident in his love making skills, but would elvis liked to have been called daddy? no. i don't think so. despite being a dominant man, he liked to be babied.

mirrors, man. mirrors. we've all seen his room. i think he liked seeing himself and his partner get it on, and i also think he liked watching other people (i don't believe he never had 2 girls in his bed at the same time and i definitely don't believe he never watched them).

above i stated about elvis possibly being prejudiced, but also that his views changed in the 70s. sexually, i do think he experimented with women from different races etc in these times.

jealousy. j e a l o u s y. he cares deeply, and it makes his jealous streak come out to play along the way. this was the man that had red west call "a guy" so he could get rid off mike stone, but eventually chickened out. i believe elvis to be a person with a lot of layers- and yes, maybe some of it has to do with the medicine abuse etc, but it was also who he was as a person. he could be unreasonable at times, in both friendships and relationships, but it doesn't take away that his heart was in the right place. elvis loved deeply, so he also hurt deeply.

writing about elvis and his life from a fan's perspective, especially one that was not alive at the same time as he was, is an extremely difficult thing to do. i don't agree with some of the things he did and said, but who am i to judge? elvis presley was a human made out of flesh, blood and bones. one that was on a forever search to find himself, to be comfortable in the vessel god gifted him. he made mistakes, did some shitty things, but he was also very kind and did very good things that changed people's lives for the better. it's said he could bring you to tears, but he also was a gentle, generous soul who could make you feel good about yourself, like you belonged. but doesn't that count for all of us? maybe not in the exact same way, but we're all just trying to find our path in this strange and sometimes cruel world. we sometimes say mean things that we regret and then we learn from it. we're all looking for that big, fat "why?" in life- we might never find the answer, but that doesn't mean we'll give up trying to find it.

i didn't mean to end in on a note like this, but i guess what i'm trying to say is that we should start treating elvis as a human being and not as the man we create in our heads and fanfictions. he wasn't perfect- but if he was, where would the fun be in that?

(i'm obsessed with ginger's coat in this pic lol.)

Thanks for coming to my TedTalk.

jk jk. no but seriously- these are my opinions on the topic. if yours are different, that's okay too and i would love to hear your take on it. 💗

#tam.txt #tam talks elvis #thank you anon for this #had fun answering it! #sorry for getting a lil emo at the end hehe #elvis #elvis presley #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader

[lesbianslovebts]

Seeing how HYBE sabotaged FACE, JITB and INDIGO and went all out for SEVEN is so fucking disappointing. But what’s even worse is how Jungkook was bought by both HYBE and Scooter to sell a whole persona and image that was never his authentic self.

i always knew jk wasnt perfect and had an extremely immature side to him. but i always thought one thing : he would never sell out. his whole thing was “rather be dead than cool” he even got it tattooed. either all of that was just bullcrap or he’s genuinely changed completely right in front of our eyes. how can he just sell out completely and ruin bts’s group principles. principles most of them still abide by and pride themselves in. and dont even get me started on the fandom reaction everything is bad until a bts member does it lol

Okay, let me arrange my thoughts.

First, I know very little about how the music industry works, let alone the intricacies of how HYBE does business. I won't deny that the chapter two solo promotions have been vastly different. However, I can't make any assumptions about why the differences exist. I just honestly don't know the level of involvement or decision-making power the members had in their solo stuff. I know Jimin mentioned wanting more than the two music videos he got. I'm sure Hobi wanted physical albums, too. So I know they don't always get what they want, and it doesn't sit well with me that they didn't have consistent promotions. HYBE is a massive corporation and they're gonna prioritize what they think will make more money over what the members may want, and that sucks ass. But I'm not sure if "sabotage" is the right word because HYBE wants their artists to succeed (i.e., generate profit). I don't know, like...that's just Capitalism, baby.

Second, I don't know much about Scooter Braun, either. He's a filthy rich man, so I'm sure he's Awful lol.

Third, I'm genuinely not sure what you mean by "Jungkook sold out." Are you upset that he was given the song instead of composing it himself? That's usually how popstars work lol. Or are you mad that he didn't write the English lyrics? The fact it's in English in the first place? I personally would have preferred a song in Korean, but he can sing in whatever language he chooses. Or do you hate the people who did write/compose the song? Is it Latto? I don't know all these people. 😩 Or is it the content of the lyrics? Considering how you're going on about "principles," I have a feeling you're offended that the lyrics are about Big Bad Sex. I'm sorry, but he's a 25-year-old man who probably fucks on the regular. I would recommend coming to terms with that.

Fourth, how do you know which highly curated public persona of Jungkook is the "authentic" 전정국? It sounds like you might be struggling with a parasocial relationship. As a fan for 8 years, I feel like I "know" the guy to some extent, but I'm aware that I will never know what Jungkook is truly like in real, everyday life.

And lastly, so no one misunderstands my personal opinion of the song, this is what I think: It's alright. Kinda bland. Generic pop isn't really my thing. I would've preferred Korean lyrics and no featured artist. (Nothing against Latto, though - I liked her part.) The lyrics are corny, especially the part where he's literally just singing the days of the week lmao. But I like the horny direction we're heading in fhdhahfj. I'll probably listen to it sometimes. 🤷‍♂️

#llbtsanswer #llbtspost

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

I can be your mirror - Daniel Ricciardo smut!

You feel insecure when you see his ex's instagram and Daniel decides to show you why you don't need to be

Warnings: smut! unprotected sex, low self esteem, etc

You were just chilling in the hotel bed, scrolling through your phone while Daniel finished taking a shower. It was Thursday night in Hungary, and media day was relatively calm (all eyes were still on Max and Lewis, after the whole Silverstone incident).

Your relationship was still new, you guys had just went public a couple months ago, and you liked that you were still discovering things about each other everyday, like how he prefers his eggs in the morning or that small scar under your chin he just noticed yesterday. Yet, some things weren't as fun to find out, like what his exes looked like.

A few fan accounts had started following you, including some F1 WAGs accounts, and you followed some of them back - you wanted to the updated, after all (or at least that's what you told yourself). The thing is, comparisons were inevitable to you - no matter how much you tried to be reasonable, low self esteem was always an issue to you. When a WAGs account posted about Daniel's ex hanging around in the paddock today and how cute her outfit was, you quickly found yourself clicking on the tag and stalking her ig. Perfect. Fucking perfect. You just have to set your own heartbreak up, don’t you? If at least you could let life do that, but no, you had to go and fall for the guy with the instagram models as his exes. You smiled ironically to yourself.

"Did you see Max shutting down that reporter on the press conference today?" Daniel said walking out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his torso and another drying his hair. You quickly locked your phone and looked up, startled like a kid caught with their hands on the cookie jar.

"Hum?" you asked him.

“What were you looking at?” he grinned you, throwing himself on the bed and sitting by your side.

“Nothing” you answered quickly, looking away.

“Don’t be like that. Tell me” he asked again, nudging you with his head.

“It’s nothing Dan, just silly old instagram”

“You wanna know one of the things I love most about you?” He asked before continuing. “You don’t really have filters. And even when you try to hide what you’re thinking, your face and body gives you away” He said. “That’s why you’re so perfect, you’re genuine” he touched your nose with his. “Let’s be honest with each other. Tell me what’s going on in there” Then he tried to lighten the mood saying "Can't be shirtless pictures of me that got you smirking, cause here I am in the flesh for you" you rolled your eyes but smiled at him.

“I’m laughing at myself” You said and he just looked at you, waiting for you to continue. “I’m setting myself up for heartbreak, more and more, and it’s just like me”

“What you’re talking about?”

“Please don’t say it’s stupid” you said before continuing. “You’re like, a rock star… fast cars, VIP, supermodels… these stuff are routine for you, you have the most interesting life. And you could have any girl. And your exes are like movie stars, fucking supermodels, and I'm not sure how much longer till you realize that and just, you know” you said gesturing to yourself and waving your fingers in front of your throat like who says 'abort mission'.

"I should know better, I really should and this might be nothing, but the deeper we get in this, the harder it's to wrap my own head around it and it’s so stupid, but how can anyone compete with that?” You weren’t making any sense, you knew and he was looking at you with his eyebrows raised and lips pressed, like he was holding a smile. “I’m rambling, forget I said anything it's so stupid” You said hiding your face behind your hand.

“I thought you said it wasn’t stupid” He said opening up a smirk and you opened your fingers to look at him. He pulled your hand down. “But you’re right, it is fucking stupid, because there’s no competing with you. I don’t care if I have to repeat that a thousand times for you to believe me, I mean…you had to have a flaw, huh?” You turned your head to the side. “This insecurity of yours, that you’re not good enough, it’s just the most crazy thing ever. Because I feel exactly the same. I’m the one that’s not good enough for you. You’re so smart, and good and you actually do good in the world. I’m just the lucky bastard that got picked to drive in circles around the world”

“You know that’s bullshit” You said.

“I’m serious. This whole stuff, fame, whatever… doesn’t mean anything. It’s just not real. I’m glad I realized that when I did” you were watching him intently. “Racing, challenging myself, working with the team, you... what we have, those are the stuff that are real to me, what really matters".

"Okay" you nodded agreeing.

"If you must to know, the reason why I didn’t work out with anybody else, it’s because we were never more than fuck buddies. Those girls are great fun, but they're more worried about showing than being, you know? And I’m not really interested in talking about them because it doesn’t mean anything, but I’ll tell you anything you ask me” You were dying to ask him more, to know every little details and to learn from their mistakes, but you knew you’d become obsessed with comparing yourself to them and didn’t he just tell you he wasn’t interest in anything about it?

“Sorry” you said quietly.

“What for?”

“Being a nag. Killing the mood” he smiled.

“Don’t-” “you-” “dare-” He kissed your face in between every word. “apologizing-” “for-” “your-” “feelings” he pulled away and looked at you. “Specially not to me. I meant it, let’s be honest, huh?” you nodded smiling back at him. “And if I’m ever a dick, please tell me before screw things up. This is not nothing, okay?”

“Okay”

“And I’m flattered you think I could have any girl” he said grinning. “I mean, I AM pretty hot, but-”

“Shut up. You know I’m right”

“Maybe any girl who cares about that stuff, and my amazing six pack” he says laughing and kissing you.

“And hard butts” you replied laughing and reaching to squeeze his, playfully.

“And hard butts” he agreed, rolling so he was on top of you.

“Those girls are usually the hottest”

“Do you honestly don’t have a mirror at home?” he said pulling away slightly from you. “It’s okay baby” he said in your ear, lifting your shirt over your head, then nibbling at your earlobe, making you moan. “I can be your mirror” he said in a low voice, taking your hands over your head and pinning them with his own.

Then he used his knees to push your legs apart. You were following his face, trying to kiss his mouth but he was holding you down, his lips barely touching your skin now, him hovering over your neck, your collarbone, your exposed breasts. You were squirming now, trying to get some release. He just wouldn’t let you have any yet.

“You have the most amazing skin” he begin saying. “So soft” he looked up to you, you had your eyes closed now. “The most amazing boobs. Fucking perfect tits, so round… and these perking nipples, so hard when you’re turned on” his lips touched your breasts lightly, barely.

“Your hair always smells so good, it’s the perfect frame for your perfect face” He went up again and kissed your lips, biting them lightly and dragging them out. “I love your lips, I love how plumped they are. I’m kind of jealous actually” he chuckled and you opened your eyes rolling them. “And those eyes. Fuck, I know it’s the first thing anyone notices about you, isn’t it? Are you sick of it by now? So big and green. I love seeing them rolling back when you come” he brought one hand down, pulling your pijama pants down and holding both of your hands up with only one of his. “I’m getting there in a minute” he said grabbing your pussy. “I just want to tell you about your ass first” he said sliding his hand through your hips until he reached your ass, grabbing it then releasing to give it a slap. You let out a yelp. “You in the mood for a little rough love?” he slapped you again and you smiled through your moan, this is so hot. And the best part of it was that no one else knew this side of his, just you. It's petty yeah, but you decided to indulge yourself in that thought.

“I love your ass, I swear I was trying to be respectful today, but you were such a tease, on those little shorts, made me hard as soon as you walked in the paddock” he went down to suck your left boob in his mouth and you were so sensitive you couldn’t help but moan, loudly. “Yeah baby, let me hear you. Let everyone hear you” He said releasing your boob and nibbling at it. “I saw how the guys were staring at your ass today. Fuckers, couldn’t help themselves. Let them stare…as long as they know who you belong to” he said leaning down to suck on your other boob. “Tell me who you belong to” his voice was so low.

“Uh…you” You were a moaning mess.

“Huh?”

“You, Daniel! I’m yours”

“That’s right”

“Please” you begged.

“What is it? What you what baby?” he whispered against your skin.

“Touch me, please”

“But I am touching you baby” he said and you heard the smirk in his voice. “Oh, I see what you mean… you want me to touch your pussy?”

“Yeah” you nodded. At the same time this was torture, it felt so, so good.

“This fucking perfect cunt of yours” he said sliding two fingers through your lips and opening them to spread you to him, you were soaking wet and pulsating, clenching around nothing. “Fuck, look at this” He said almost to himself, licking his lips. Then he slid his fingers in, curling them up, making a ‘come here’ motion. He dipped his head down, kissing the inside of your leg, then right over your clit, taking it in between his lips and sucking. You moaned loudly. “Oh sorry baby… you wanted it rough, huh?” he sucked your clit harder, then bit on it lightly. You could scream at how much pleasure he was giving you.

“Fuck! Oh my god Dan” He started to tease you with another finger meanwhile.

“Think you can take another one?” his words sending vibrations against you and making you forget how to form words. “I know you can, you take me so well. Such a good girl for me” he inserted another finger and started to pump them in and out of you faster. “So fucking tight. Can’t wait to feel you around me. That’s my favorite place you know? Buried deep inside your cunt” that was it, you came, hard. Arching your back and hips, Daniel releasing your hands to push you down and hold you there while you came and he kept sucking and licking and biting your clit. You couldn’t take anymore, you pushed him away, pulling his hair.

“Can’t-” You tried to say. “Dan”

“Yes, you can. Come here” He said pulling away and lifting you, dragging you out of the bed and into the bathroom, the rest of your clothes and his towel getting lost in the way. He pushed you against the sink, pulling your face up, making you look at yourself on the mirror. He was pressing against you from behind, his cock leaking in between your legs. “I want you to see what I see” he said staring at you through the mirror. “Gonna fuck you so good, you don’t ever forget how fucking perfect you are” and with that he slammed inside you. “Fucking-” he had one hand on your hair and the other around you, between your folders, massaging your clit. “Fucking heaven, taking me so good”

“Ah Dan” You screamed. He started to fuck you hard and fast, pushing you against the sink. You lifted your head and looked at the mirror, it was the most erotic thing you’ve ever seen. Daniel was dripping sweat, thrusting with perfect precision. His eyes were locked on yours and you knew he was as close as you. The thought of how deep the connection between you were at that moment made you clench again and he lost it, giving you one final thrust and a guttural groan. You came again, shaking more than ever, the feeling too much this time. “I can’t-” You tried to say again. “Too much-” Squeezing him over and over, so he pulled out, still spilling, making a mess over your legs and on the bathroom floor. He was still holding you though.

“I’m right here baby. Right here” He whispered on you ear from behind. You both were riding out your orgasms, rocking slightly, your body leaned on the sink, pressing your boobs against it, and he leaning over you, breathing hard.

After you both calmed down, you tried to move but his weight was too much. You let out a weak laugh and he moved. “Sorry” he said kissing your back. When you got up, you turned to him and kissed him lightly.

“You are-” You said against his lips “amazing”. And kissed him again, lovinly. “Thank you. You make me feel so good, Daniel. Let me take care of you now”

Daniel's POV

This woman is trying to kill me. “Baby I don’t think I have it in me-” “Not like that” she smiled. “I meant with a bath” she said gesturing to the bathtub.

“Yes, please” I said already opening the tap and letting the water run. She went back to the room and returned with a water bottle, taking a sip before passing it to me. I took it from her hand and almost finished it, before giving it back to her.

“Do they have any bubbles? Bath salts?” she asked.

“Hum…I don’t think so, baby” I answered looking around on the sink.

“That’s fine” she smiled, getting in the tub and motioning for me to sit in between her legs. Her hair was up in a knot, but some of it was clinging to her neck due to the sweat. She was so beautiful, I can’t believe she wants me.

“You don’t want me to stay behind you?” she shook her head smiling and I did as she asked, leaning on her. The tap was still running, filling the tub with hot water, while we two of us just soaked in there, relaxing. “This is nice,” I said while she ran her hands through my hair. When the tub was full enough, she turned off the water and applied some body wash on my skin, running her hand over my back and shoulders, it felt so good, so comfortable, like I didn’t have a worry in the world. Then I washed her legs around me, kissing her feet and calves and making her giggle. She kept massaging my shoulders. We stayed there for good while, half an hour? More or less? There’s nothing else in the world other than this bathroom anyway, so who cares?

“Can we stay here forever?” She asked me after a while, kissing behind my neck. I just hummed in response. “Actually, scratch that. I’m getting hungry. And thirsty”

“The limitations of the human body” I said jokingly but got out of the tub after a few minutes. If m’lady wants to eat, I’m getting her food. I dried myself, wrapping a towel around me and holding hers open for her to step out of the tub.

We went back to the room, she picked her clothes from the floor and put them away in her travel bag back inside the closet. I watched as she got a fresh pair of underwear and a clean bra, while I put on boxers and sweatpants. She wore some leggings that hugged her ass perfectly, what a view. I noticed her going through her bag, probably looking for a shirt but I just wanted her to wear some clothing of mine, so I took the hoodie I was going to wear and passed it to her. She smiled and accepted it, it looked oversized on her and covered her ass, but maybe that’s a good thing, I don’t need anyone thirsting over what’s mine, I don’t care how much of a prick that makes me sound.

"Do you wanna order or go out to eat?" I asked her.

"Let's just go downstairs, to the restaurant?"

"Yeah, that's fine" I say and peck her lips.

I put on a sweatshirt, and hold the door open for her. We walk out and the temperature was a bit colder out here in the hallway (or maybe it was just too hot inside the room), so I just take her hand and intertwine our fingers, passing my arms around her and holding her closer. I just love that I can do that whenever I want.

And I plan on doing that for the rest of my life.

#Daniel Ricciardo #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fanfic #formula one #formula one fanfiction

[dorimena]

Hi, I love your work and if your requests are open would you consider the following?

Monoma is on patrol with y/n and Monoma being well....Monoma, he was horny and was teasing y/n. Not having any of this shit, she proceeds to dom the fuck out of him during patrol. She takes him into an alleyway and fucks him with a strap that she had on her already (she was already planning on something but didn’t go through with it because work is work and she’s aware that Monoma and her could take their time when they got home). She pushes him into the wall and fucks him silly. Monoma is loving it and keeps begging “Mommy fuck me more, please!”. She gives him what he wants but she tells him to be quiet or else the bystanders would fine their great Phantom Thief in a puddle of his own cum while getting fucked by his mommy. At some point two civilians hear Monoma panting and hiccuping and get concerned. Y/n keeps fucking him and reassures them that Phantom Thief is fine. He cums then and there and she tells him to reassure the civilians that he’s ok. Monoma whimpers out that he’s fine and y/n cleans him up and cuddles him in the alleyway telling him how much of a good boy he was.

(I’ve been thinking about this ever since I read your shower blowjob story. This man makes the dom in me go crazy. He’s already a whining bitch, having him be like that in the bedroom just- 😫)

Let me say that I’ve had a scene in my head almost the same as this one you sent me and I am absolutely thrilled because yessss more attention to bratty baby Monoma ٩(♡ε♡)۶

And honestly, this man is just asking for it. Bet he wants to fucked anywhere, anytime, as long as he's put back into his place. That's his kink-

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; Monoma Neito

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 3.5k

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; fem!reader, pegging, mommy kink, slight exhibitionism, public sex, mentioned sex toy (butt plug), implied overstimulation, multiple orgasms, implied after care, domme!reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; begging, humiliation, Monoma being a little shit, because he wanted your attention, and to rile the fuck out of you, aged-up character: Monoma is 20+

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; I unknowingly kind of changed a few things from the ask, like the conversation between Monoma and the bystanders, but I hope you like it anon! The ending is kind of rushed, sorry about that!

𝕭𝖊𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖆 𝖇𝖎𝖙𝖈𝖍 𝖎𝖘 𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐

“Now, now, y/n, you know ignoring someone, specifically the love of your life, is a crime? How else are you to beg for my love if you go on and ignore my graceful presence? Are you listening to me? At least lend me your attention.”

He’s been like this for the past couple of hours since you’ve both been assigned together for patrol. You thought it’d be a good idea, and Monoma was also excited when your boss told you both to get ready and head to the neighborhood you’re meant to keep a watch over.

The neighborhood turned out not as empty or quiet as you expected, rather close to a busy street. Some stores and restaurants seem to align themselves around this area.

You thought things would go smoothly, go even better and much quicker now that you and your boyfriend are finally patrolling together, months since you’ve transferred to this agency from your old one.

But Monoma’s been leaving any and every snide remark since you two stepped foot into the area, teasing you for any small mistake he believes should be (loudly) called out for or simply trying to mess up your way of doing things.

You don’t even want to count how many times he’s criticized the way your hero outfit currently looks on you. And no, you’re not getting insecure, but rather more… cautious.

There’s a reason why the uniform seems a bit odd around your crotch, but he doesn’t need to know that, not here, not now. Maybe until you both get home-

You trip, almost falling flat on your face if it weren’t for your boyfriend quickly grabbing you, pulling you up to your feet as he looks at you with panic before it quickly dissipates to his stupid mockery.

“See? You cannot do anything right, not without me at least. You, my dear, cannot live without me yet you still ignored me. This is what I mean when you should listen to me. Anyone would truly be grateful for having me, Phantom Thief, as their beloved lover.”

That’s it. You usually can take so much of his weird comments, but right now he’s pulling anything out of his ass at this point. (Soon you’ll see what actually comes out.)

You don’t answer, just look around to make sure no one is watching as you grab him by his stupid tie, dragging him to the nearest alleyway you remember passing by, glad it’s still pretty empty and dark enough to hide your bodies in the shadows.

He isn’t even struggling, just letting you walk him as if he’s a dog, quietly following you. If you were to turn around, you’d see the way his eyes are wide yet full of lust, his pupils dilated as he mentally cheers, thanking the gods for listening to his horny prayers of being sucked in an alleyway.

Do you know how hard it was for him to not jump you and beg you to help him? All because of how sexy you look in your hero outfit, how the small fixes and modifications bring out more of your body, the body he loves, yearns, desires, every day and night. Hopefully you don’t find his surprise before he can debut it once you guys are back home. (But unintentionally came prepared.)

He’s a complete fool for you, but you can’t know that, or else it’ll be the end of-

“Monoma Neito. You have 5 seconds to tell me why the fuck you’re being a piece of shit tonight.”

He didn’t realize his back is against a cold wall or how you’ve trapped him between your arms, the way you’re glaring at him while counting down in such a low tone, it makes his legs feel weak and threaten to buckle..

“Horny.” He barely whispers, crazed eyes never leaving your face as he stays still, trying to control his breathing and heartbeat as you scan him from head to toe, eyes finally staying in place where his boner is visible, even with how poor the lighting is.

You grin, but not your usual friendly grin or familiar flirty grin, but the ‘I’m gonna fuck you till you die’ kind of grin.

And Monoma’s both terrified yet super, duper much more hornier than before. But, with what are you going to fuck him with?

In a flash, he’s suddenly turned around, his clothed-covered chest pressing against the wall as he feels your hands make quick work on his belt, on his pants, pulling them down to rest on his thighs. He hisses and shivers when the cold air hits every exposed part of him, yet makes his dick twitch in interest.

You also free your bottom half to finally let out the strap on you’ve luckily managed to hide until now, searching your pockets for the small tube of lube you brought with you, just in case.

But when you spread his butt cheeks, you gasp in surprise with the butt plug he’s wearing, going to grab the toy as you slowly pull it out in disbelief.

Did he know?

“I-I want you to know you’re not the, um, only one to be prepared for what they want.” Monoma speaks, but in such a soft tone that it has you wondering if he’s the same person who had pestered you since the beginning of the patrol, the same boyfriend you love who has a talent for being loved and hated simultaneously by various people.

But at least he didn’t know. He simply decided to take this extra mile.

Cute. No wonder he’s such a good boy for mommy… sometimes.

“Then I guess I shouldn’t prepare you, right?”

You don’t wait for his response, not when you dispose of the toy away from you both, and you make quick work to lube up your silicone cock.

Monoma doesn’t get to ask you about the wet sounds behind him, or ask where you threw his butt plug before you’re entering him. You felt how his body jolted, his back arching enough to push his ass back more towards you.

You land a smack against the smooth skin, listening how the impact echoes in the empty alleyway and the way he whimpers in pain.

“You’re such a slut for mommy, aren’t you Monoma?”

“Yes!”

No hesitation.

Monoma usually sounds hesitant whenever you two do something new, as if he evaluates the pros and cons from anything and everything, figuring out if he’ll come out benefitted or you.

But he sounds desperate, shameless. He sounds like he’s ready to cry.

New, but not too surprising. When he wants to, he’ll always be a good boy for his mommy.

“Want to tell mommy again why you were being a little bitch tonight?”

Never mind, his hesitation came back, his mouth pressed shut as you peek at him, trying to catch a glimpse at his periwinkle eyes, wondering what’s taking him so long to answer. He answered you so easily, so quickly a few minutes ago.

You hear a soft mumble, see his lips move but no sound gets to your ears. So you spank him once more, hearing his cute squeak and the way he fucks back.

“Louder.”

“I wanted mommy to fuck me! Fuck me until I can’t walk! Fuck me until I’m just your stupid little hole! Please? I’ll-I’ll be good now, I promise!”

If anyone were to ask you just how stupid Monoma gets when he’s completely horny and turned on, this is a prime example. His usual eloquent vocabulary? Gone. It doesn’t exist once mommy’s pleasing him.

But he’s also promising about being good? Let’s see how good he’ll be then.

No more words are exchanged, just the soft desperate pants of the pretty blond and some small airy whines that leave his mouth in anticipation for what you’ll do next.

You don’t even start slow, you go absolutely feral.

He barely gets to inhale one last deep breath until you’re fucking that out of his lungs, his head turning to look back at you as best he could as his body begins hitting the wall in front of him, his clothes rubbing against the roughness of the bricked exterior of the unknown building. He lifts head enough to not get itself hit against the wall and his hands are clawing at the bricks desperately, trying to find leverage to hold on tightly, his brain struggling to catch up with how vicious yet delicious you’re fucking him.

When he does remember he’s a human who can speak words, he cries out “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy!” in such high pitches, it sounds like he’s singing, probably trying to continue seducing you into such a horny haze. His pent-up sexual frustration must have been infectious, with how you find yourself being merciless with him and his ass, your hips slamming into the back of his in such a brutal pace you wonder if the skin will bruise, if he’ll be able to sit or walk properly.

Probably not, but that’s the point, isn’t it?

Your baby boy wanted you to fuck the living shit out of him, so that’s what you’ll do, it’s what you’re best at doing.

Fuck the annoyance out of him so that when you guys get home, he passes out.

You momentarily forget you guys are very much still in public and even if it’s night, civilians are very much still awake and walking, either going back home or going to work, maybe hang out with their friends or find themselves a sub to fuck.

Monoma doesn’t even warn you that he’s cumming, not even his loud, prolonged whine of your name gets your attention. But with how he’s spasming around your toy, how his hips are twitching quickly in between your hands, his eyes that never left from looking at you crossing…

Yeah, since you missed that orgasm and you’re not in the mood to exactly punish him, why not fuck him some more until he can’t remember his name and only yours?

You briefly pause, the tip of the toy the only thing still inside of him as one of your hands rubs circles on his lower back and the other remains on his hip.

Through the panting, Monoma lets out a whine, one that sounds almost disappointed. Probably because he came far quicker than what either of you two expected, or because it feels like you’re pulling out already and calling it a night.

No words are exchanged as you watch him catch his breath for a bit more, memorizing how rosy his cheeks and nose look, how the blush looks like it’s on his neck while his white pupils are fully dilated, oozing his adoration for you.

When you hear him suck in a breath, whether he’s preparing a sentence or to finish pulling himself off the toy, you slam back into him, grinning like a maniac upon feeling how his whole body jumped, going back into action and having blood pump everywhere in him, mostly towards his reawakening dick.

And you slam, slam, slam, slamming into him at such a steady pace, making sure to roll your hips the way you know will make him start squealing in such a girly tone, or like a dirty pig he sometimes becomes.

And once you feel him begin to push back on you and one of his hands leave the wall, you lean forward, pushing his body more up on the wall. He’s bent too much, it’s obvious you’re fucking him doggy style. What if people decide to go through this alley?

He obeys but whines in complaint, not wanting you to stop your ministrations as he pulls himself together, standing up as much as he could as to leave his lower back still bent for you.

“Keep your hands on the wall or else I’ll leave you here like this.”

He loves it when you speak to him in such a low voice, in such a way that you know makes him want to suck your cock for days until his jaw hurts. He puts his hands back on the wall, both placed where his face is at, acting as support as he rests his forehead there. His neck hurts a bit from how long he’s been straining to look at you.

You go back to fucking him, going back to what you were doing, moaning his name repeatedly to keep riling him up, arouse him and make him start begging for you to go faster, harder, deeper, make him dirty.

And he does with loud wails, ones that have you freezing and stopping all together, slapping a hand on his mouth and whispering how he should quiet down, unless he wants to be whored to other people.

“Be mommy’s good boy and keep quiet. Unless you want someone else’s cock.”

“No! No muh-mommy! Only y-yours~ Please!” He moans, eyes rolling to the back of his head as he impatiently grinds against you, feeling how sticky his thighs are getting with sweat and some of his cum and precum, somehow.

“Mommy, fuck me more, please!” He whimpers so cutely, so pathetically, so melodically you’re sure he somehow copied someone’s siren quirk, because your head feels dizzy, your heart is beating erratically and your hips sync with the pulse, forgetting about being consistent with speed, with roughness, with how deep you reach inside of him.

Fucking him silly until he’s trying his best to muffle his screams and cries into the back of his hands pressed on the wall, his fingers trying so hard to find solace on them, to grasp the reality of him being defiled in an empty, dirty alleyway, pressed so ruthlessly against a wall he doesn’t know how exactly dirty it could be.

Monoma’s hiccuping your name until you spank him, growling softly how that’s not who you are, making him wail out “Mommy! Cumming!” in such an erotic way, you wonder if you’re fucking your boyfriend or a girl with how he’s managed to reach such an incredible pitch.

You keep going, and even when he’s done cumming, you don’t stop impaling him, and a hand goes to wrap itself around his dick, trying your best to match this chaotic fucking, hearing how he’s struggling to breath, to comprehend this painful yet electrifying pleasure.

His toes are curling in his shoes, his knees don’t stop buckling, his hips never stop trying to meet with yours, the burn of overstimulation flowing through his veins yet motivating his dick to keep going, to keep obeying, to not disappoint mommy.

Monoma’s speaking gibberish, babbling whatever nonsense and begging he could think of or come to make up, the tips of his fingers turning white with how hard they’re pressing against the bricks as he tries to not fall. He’s not sure how or why he’d fall, but with how you’re touching him, squeezing him, stroking him, playing with him, he’s ready to give into the inquiry of whether being a househusband would have you fucking him like this everyday.

It’s a weird thought, one he’s never had before, one that’s still early to even care about-

Oh my god you’re abusing his prostate!

He’s seeing stars, planets, flashing strobe lights and envisioning his uproaring third orgasm, mouth hung open stupidly as whiny sobs and strangled cries escape him, trying his best to keep quiet like you said but he can’t!

“Feels s’ good!” He slurs, once again turning his head to look at you, eyes completely wet as tears fall in graceful droplets, hair messed up and drool staining a bit of his chin.

And just as you were going to respond, you heard footsteps.

You both freeze: you’re halfway out of him while Monoma’s struggling to not let his coughing fit be heard, having swallowed his saliva far too quickly with the scare.

The sounds stop, but now you both can hear a female voice.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

Monoma whimpers, embarrassed.

So this is how he’ll get caught and shamed.

This is the end of his career.

But you’re not having it, not with how his dick has stopped twitching and is starting to soften.

You’re not done yet, and neither is he.

“Answer, Monoma.” You harshly whisper, wiping your thumb over his hypersensitive tip, making him hiccup loudly before composing himself as best he could.

“Y-yes? It-It is I, Phantom Thief- ooh~”

Another voice pitches in.

“Phantom Thief? The Phantom Thief?!”

“Y-Yes!” Monoma squeaks out, trying to cover up his gasp as you begin to slowly fuck him, making sure to keep hitting him straight to the prostate, amused how he’s gripping his jaw, muffling his hiccups while frantically shaking his head, begging you with his eyes to no, no, please!

The two bystanders gasp, seemingly walking more towards where you and Monoma are, making you press him more into the wall, hoping the angle you’re both in and the small hiding spot is enough to keep you hidden.

“We’re huge fans of yours! But, um, are you alright? We heard someone crying.”

“Fuck!” Monoma whimpers, struggling to keep his breathing in check as you continue to move, even rolling your palm all over his tip, your other hand going to pull at one of his nipples.

“What was that?”

“N-nothing! I’m fin- ugh~”

“You… sure?”

“YES!”

Monoma yells, back arching as his head touches your shoulder, eyes rolling up this head as he’s torn between pushing back or bucking forwards, feeling his body submerged in such an intense heat, in such shame, in such pathetic desperation to cum, he’s begging you in quick hushed moans to please, pretty please, make him cum, he wants to cum, needs to cum again.

“And your fans?” You whisper teasingly, feeling how he shivers with how close your breath is near his ear.

“Fu-uck my fans-”

“Now now, that’s something you never said before. Did I fuck Monoma Neito out of you?”

And you go back with the brutal pace, not caring if the other two bystanders can hear what’s going on, not caring if they come out traumatized or probably aroused with how obvious it is that their dear Phantom Thief is getting fucked in a shady place, in a nasty place, yet he’s silently wailing and convulsing with everything you’re giving him.

Your hand soon enough gets sticky with what little cum his poor, weak body produced, his hole clenching tightly around your strap-on while his hands fly back to grasp any part of you that he could reach, which ended up being your head.

The bystanders speak again while Monoma’s busy wheezing his gratitude.

“Are you sure you’re alright? We could call the police-”

“I’m alright! ‘m fine~” He managed to sing-song, but if you heard a bit of his whimper seep from the last word, you don’t say anything, simply slow down your stroking before pausing.

You hear their footsteps slowly go back towards where they probably came from, making Monoma let out shaky exhales of relief and satisfaction, small giggles slipping from time to time as you kiss his neck, his cheek, his jawline.

And once you are certain you’re both alone again, you slowly pull out of him, helping him to turn around so that his back presses against the wall.

Until he grimaces.

“My essence is, from my deduction, splattered on this disgusting wall.”

You laugh, shaking your head as you point down to where his pants are, laughing harder when you see how his grimace turns into a face of disgust, horror, shame, surprise, arousal- wait what?

You don’t question the last one, simply letting out the last of your giggles while you search for the disinfectant wipes you tend to carry with you in your utility belt. And once they’ve been found, you make him lick your cum-covered hand first before properly passing a wipe. You hand Monoma one so that he cleans his face if needed, disinfect his hands, his thighs, anywhere he thought he needed to clean.

No, that's a lie. You took care of his thighs and pelvis, trying your best to clean the spots where his cum reached his pants before peppering a few gentle kisses around his exposed skin.

Pulling his briefs and pants up, buttoning, zipping, fasting his belts. You let out a happy sigh, fixing his hair and tie.

You then fix yourself.

“Who’s mommy’s good boy, Monoma?”

He somehow managed to chirp. “I am, mommy.”

“Then, you’ll stop being a bitch tonight, right? Mommy made sure to fuck it out of you.”

“Oh, um,” aw, he’s blushing. “I suppose…”

When you both walk away from the much-more defiled wall, you hold back an amused snort with how Monoma seems too unstable with his feet, how his legs seem to shake with every step he tries to take and how frustrated he looks with how uncooperative his body is.

You decide that chilling and cuddling in that corner wouldn’t be so bad, and considering how your shift ended minutes ago, you doubt either you or Monoma will get into trouble.

#✿; impurity #⏱ Monoma brain rot #bnha smut #monoma neito smut #monoma smut #sub monoma neito #sub bnha #mha smut #ლ; blasphemy #𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖒𝖆

[whosjunglejim4322]

Dom!mark lee w breeding kink for @nakamotocore I am v excited this is nasty aha devil emoji, est. relationship, uhm spitting, hand/finger kink, overindulgence of the word baby, fingering, creampie, bathroom sex, fucking in front of a mirror, mark has a nasty mouth, he's a sweetie who is acc very in love w u, toothrotting fluff at the end

It really wasn't your fault. You are pro comfort above all else, in fact, it's even advised by certified healthcare professionals, to not wear underwear occasionally - who are you to risk not giving yourself the care you need and or deserve?

Sure, maybe you should've worn something a bit less conspicuous than a dress, but it's not like you aren't careful. Of course you are! Especially since you and Mark are visiting Jaehyun and Johnny at their new home payed by Jae's onlyfans money - but silly you, had still accidentally managed to expose yourself - luckily, with only your boyfriend there to see.

You'd been rummaging in J number one and two's fridge, eager to find something behind the rows of beer that stacked the shelves, organized neatly as if they'd actually taken their time on making at least twenty five cans of bud light look presentable.

Mark had followed, having promised to bring a couple of the beverages back to the living room, just as you spotted the non alcoholic juice cocktail nestled all the way in the back of the bottom row - your fingers suddenly prickling with newfound determination.

"You're really.....fuck," Mark groaned from somewhere behind you and all at once the breeze against your bare center had you shivering. You've been caught. "come here."

It was a silent, steady command that rang with regained composure and as you stood up straight, Marks hands gripped your hips with ferocity, spinning you around to face him.

If the flaring of his nostrils and the glossy, lost glare in his doe eyes were anything to go by, you'd ticked something inside of him that began raging like a bull behind his ribcage; dick swelling in his sweats at a rapid rate, while he pulled you closer to his body by the swell of your ass.

Your gasp was a puff against his cheek, pupils blown wide when you felt the warmth of his palm against your sex from behind, the prod of his middle finger. You could still hear Jaehyun and Johnny in the living room just around the corner, furthering the mixture of thrill and embarrassment.

"You did this on purpose, huh?" He growled it against your ear, the vibration trilling down your spine and flooding your pelvis with heat. Within the second you were being tugged along, out of the kitchen and through the hall that led to an intersection of doors; the one straight ahead being the bathroom, the others bedrooms.

You had to grip onto the back of his shirt to keep up with him, despite the fact that your wrist was firmly entrapped by his slim fingers. You entered the middle door and that's what led to your current situation; your ass perched on his friends' bathroom counter with your dress being hiked up around your thighs.

"M-Markie, right now? W-what if they come looking for - ohhhh, for us?" You sputter as the pad of his middle and forefinger rub your clit in circles, his bottom lip caught between his two front teeth. He chuckles darkly, in a way that makes you leak, and suddenly you're far too worked up to think straight anymore.

"Don't Markie me, you really came here in this pretty little dress," he tugs the ensemble up higher, until it's resting around your hips and your naked center is in full view. "with your pussy right underneath, completely bare."

He kisses you sloppily, as if he's as drunk on the adrenaline as you are, but with clear purpose. You grind against his fingers and then he's pulling away, grin lopsided and fever inducing, the way it always is when he's in these moods.

"That's not-" he cuts you off, slowing his circles and your clit throbs in protest.

"What? Not fair?" He scoffs, pulling you closer by the back of your knees, nestling his narrow hips in between your parted thighs while his mouth presses soft kisses to your cheek, down your jaw.

"You know what's really not fair, baby?" Your wetness is loud even as he glides his digits through the silk of your folds, using the lightest of touches to trace the ring of your slit.

"You knew I'd notice, eventually," his tongue flicks across your throat, over to your carotid artery until he's kissing the patch of skin just under your ear. "and you wanted my dick to get hard in front of my friends - fuck - wanted me to have to drag you to the bathroom and rub your little pussy just like this - you were staring at my hands all day, hmm?"

You're already trembling in his hold, and you have to fight back the near irrepressible urge to whimper when he slides those fingers into your sopping heat - your walls sucking him in greedily, contracting around the digits.

"Fuuuck baby, so fucking wet." he groans, curling his fingers when he feels you squeezing around them. You blame it on him- it's hard not to notice the bulge that has formed underneath his shorts, and your neediness grows with each sound that passes his pretty lips.

Of course, this is Mark, though. He feeds off of the fact that you're so fucked out so fast, knows that you'll act completely innocent until he fucks the truth about your mischievous plans out of you - even so, you whine just a bit too loudly when your hole feels sudden emptiness.

"Please, Mark," you're begging already, pouting until he brings the soaked digits to your mouth. Without missing a beat you're parting your lips and suckling your juices off of him, his dick twitching the minute he feels the slick of your tongue.

"Is that what you're gonna call me, while you're trying to get your way?" He cups your cheek, pulling his spit soaked fingers from your mouth before wiping them on the inside of your thigh.

"No, no sir I'm sorry," he smiles proudly, cock leaking and desire saturating his senses as you stare up at him through the thick of your lashes, clinging onto the front of his shirt in an effort to pull him closer than what he already is.

This proves to showcase your real desperation and then he's kissing you again, roughly at first but then he's rhythmic while he takes his time suckling your bottom lip, then your top, and alternating between the two.

You're so distracted by the feel of his tongue against the roof of your mouth, that you don't even realize he's shoved his shorts down, until the bulbous tip of his cock rubs against your swollen clit.

"Fuck me, please Mar-sir? Want you s-so bad." You mewl, gasping when you're suddenly pulled off of the counter by your waist, turned around and met with your disheveled reflection in the bathroom mirror. You bend yourself over with no hesitation, eyes drawn forward and belly tightening with arousal from the sight before you; from the way Mark's entire expression has darkened, gaze low and focused on the glistening between your legs.

"Yeah? Wanna be fucked full of my cum, hmm baby?" He's fucked out, hazy from the ache in the pit of his belly, in his chest. He's gripping the thick shaft of his length, rubbing the plum hued head up an down your slit as if it's his tongue lapping at your pussy instead.

"Mm, yes, yes please stuff me full, sir."

You push back against him and he chuckles at the way you're trembling, though he honestly doesn't think he can last much longer to tease you about it, balls tightening with the urge to release. Plus, how could he say no to you?

It always takes him by surprise, every single time he pushes himself into you. It's a further reminder that you're his, made for him in every way and it makes his desire even headier.

He bottoms out and you're gripping onto the edge of the sink for dear life, eyes holding themselves open just so you can watch Marks soft features contort into that of someone else completely. His dark eyebrows are furrowed in concentration, petal lips parted.

He drags his length out of you and you're the only thing he sees as he thrusts himself back into the warmth of your sex, his hands snug around your hips as a form of leverage for the pace he sets; hard and precise.

Johnny and Jaehyun are long but forgotten now, in fact when you're with Mark, it seems as though everything else disappears completely. That's not an understatement, especially not when he's able to fuck you like this, pretty groans leaving his throat, his manhood buried deep inside of you.

You're a whimpering mess and he doesn't have the heart to tell you to quiet down, you're too beautiful like this and you're - "So fuckin' wet for me baby, shit."

You're completely coating his cock in your milky essence, it's smearing the front of his thighs and dripping down his balls. You feel the warmth of mouth against the side of your cheek and realize he's lent over, arms wrapped fiercely around your middle as he rolls his agile hips into you from behind.

"M-Maaark, mmmph." You feel so full, too full and you're not sure what to do with yourself - bouncing back on his length, the back of your thighs meeting the front of his.

"You like being fucked like this baby?" He uses one arm to reach down in between your thighs where the two of you are connected, rubbing circles over your bud as he did earlier. "You want me to have you leaking between your legs with my cum?"

He's filthy, and each word that is spoken through a growl has your belly filling with an unbearable pressure, body lurching with each sharp, sloppy thrust of his hips.

"Y-Yes Markie, make a mess o-oohhhh, out of me."

You've forgotten about the formalities but he's okay with it, in fact the nickname sounds so pretty coming from you, that it makes the drive to fill you with his seed that much more powerful.

"Gonna - fuck, gonna put a baby in you, mmm," he curls his hips and hits a spot inside of you that has your body involuntarily jerking, legs wobbly. "gonna make sure everyone knows who got you all big and swollen."

Even the thought has you barely holding it together, his possessiveness stirring a whirlwind of emotions within you that seem to be building by the second. He stands uo to his full stature and returns to his previous position in an effort to hold you up, sensing that his mouth has you worked up beyond belief.

"You like that baby? Can feel you squeezing around me."

It's sadistic, really. Your eyes aren't even all the way open, the balloon of pressure in your belly swelling and swelling, spreading licks of fire through your nerve endings, causing you to drip onto the bathroom floor with each drag of his cock from your heat.

"Ple-ease don't s-stop, oh fuck, Mark please." You're not making any sense but he understands perfectly, as he always has and always will. Hes not fairing much better, if he's honest, and so he's truly grateful that you're so close to falling apart as he knows he won't be long either.

"Awe, look at you," his voice isn't steady but it's still strong, teasing in its lilt. "you're gonna cum all over my dick aren't you? That's what you wanted all along, couldn't even wait."

You mewl as a reply and he twitches, the end dangerously close with each stroke. He's never felt someone so soft, so warm and wet for him and only him and now you're panting his name, over and iver again as if it's the only word you've ever known.

"Markmarkmark, oh fuck, I'm c-cumming."

A hand clamps over your mouth while you drown in the liquid heat that pulsates through you in rigorous, violent waves; tears brimming in your eyes and knees practically giving out.

Mark manages to keep you steady, to fuck you through your orgasm while your muffled cries seep into his skin like they're made of medicine; and in reality it's probably only seconds after, with you throbbing around his cock, that he feels his orgasm rip through him as viciously as yours rips through you.

You know the signs enough by now to sense it in his body, and despite the fact that you're still loopy, you manage to pull your eyes open just enough to watch him lose it - his body bowing and chest pressing against your front as he pumps himself into you with sloppy thrusts.

His bottom lip almost bleeds with how hard his teeth dig into it, tremors wracking through him while the warmth of his cum fills you from the inside out, and it has an aftershock of orgasmic pleasure moving through the marrow of your bones.

It's not even a moment later when you feel the softness of his kisses against any expanse of skin he can reach, soft smooch sounds accompanied by the flurry of gentle pecks. You feel like you're floating, despite still not being able to move properly.

"My baby, my darling," he sings against your skin and you giggle at the giddiness that radiates from the doe eyed boy, your Mark. He pulls himself out of you and you try not to whine, but ultimately fail, too used to the feeling of him inside of you. "don't pout, gotta clean you up."

Your eyes are closed and the sound of running water pulls you from your momentary reverie, even more so as you feel the warmth of a cloth against your sensitive center; a flush of heat leaving you dangling in the realization of what you two have just done in Johnny and Jaehyun's bathroom.

"Oh fuck." You attempt to bury your face in your arms but Mark stops you, chuckling as if he hasn't got a care in the world while he adjusts your dress to drape over your hips again, pulling you into his chest.

"Shh, it's okay it's okay. We made the place more...more homey - you know?" He teases with a warm chuckle that threatens to tear any worries from your mind, and you bury your face against the crook of his neck, smiling.

"I swear to fuck if they used even one of my brand new wash cloths I'm never inviting them over again." Jaehyun seethes.

#mark lee #mark lee x reader #mark lee smut #mark lee imagine #mark lee x reader smut #mark lee x reader imagine #nct #nct imagines #nct smut #nct x reader #nct x reader smut #mark lee drabble #mark lee x reader drabble #nct x reader imagine #nct drabble #nct mark #nct mark x reader #nct 127 #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 smut #nct 127 x reader smut #nct 127 drabble #nct 127 mark x reader #nct 127 imagine #nct x reader drabble #superm smut #superm mark #superm x reader #johnny seo #jung jaehyun

[marinerofthestars]

screaming into the void about arcane ep 5

Oh dang young Cait? GRAYSON? We be in flashback territory me hearties

Cool motive, still a cop

Wow Marcus really didn’t want anyone to know too much about his scapegoat (presuming he arrested Vi as a “dangerous criminal” to help him climb the career ladder)

Interesting – Cait knows who Silco is? And he’s an industrialist??

well looks like it’s time for some good old fashioned casual prison brutality

And now I’m wondering whether this is meant to show “there are no good cops, by being one you’re part of a fundamentally fucked institution”, or whether Riot are wimps and we’re trying to go “nOt AlL cOpS aRe BaD aPpLeS”

Well your city’s values are shit, but they did try to do something, so…kudos to them I guess

interesting, is that his kid or the kid of one of the Enforcers who got killed?

nvm

a good old not so subtle threat from Silco, but also him petting the dog and showing he gives a shit about people

Viktor, why do I get the sense that you’re one of those people?

well damn good on Jayce for actually trying to do something about the system

yesssss squirm Marcus, squirm like the maggot you are

Double helix…is this the origin of the Glorious Evolution? Is it really just going to be the result of magic-induced hallucinations? Or is Vik having an idea?

Interesting contrast of the blood and the steel of the guardrail, there’s probably a metaphor about humanity’s relationship to technology or the inevitability of emotion overcoming modernity’s logic, but I’m too lazy to find it

“To the realm of heebie-jeebies” Jayce you better not be trying to emulate Icathia young man

NOOOOO POWDER POOR BABY

Cait aren’t those tickets expensive? Oh wait you’re rich, you probably don’t think of it as a big expense (shower thought: do rich people think of themselves as being average money-wise? or are they aware what’s not a lot of money to them is an obscene amount to others?)

vi be doin parkour, trying to escape? or? Do some good old fashioned pursuer-pursued flirtation???

wait is that you, bald guy from the blonde Shimmer monster teenager’s gang? did you grow up?

“My little sister” ow

yeah honestly I’m with Viktor, using magic as a battery is nice and all but you can do so much more than you are with reality as your clay

roll credits

Ah, the good old “thing that the straight man thought was relevant isn’t and the wise guy seems to know less than they made themselves out to” trope

and a double switcheroo! “seemingly irrelevant task turns out to be important”

Ah Mel, as slimy and manipulative as ever (wait can someone tell me the optics are on the main “capitalist running dog” character being a black woman? I feel like that’s a little iffy but I’m not black and so don’t feel super qualified to judge)

Oh god it’s the scene from the trailer but EVEN WORSE

OH POWDER I AM SO SORRY YOU DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER

Remember when we just thought POW was meant to be a shorthand for “I like explosions” rather than a nickname? Good times, good times

ah a lovely visual metaphor for Powder’s fear she’s not strong enough

yeah bad mouthing Vi’s home, dumb move Cait

“favors among friends” my ass, you’re the problem with the system

yeah Jayce was VERY clearly uncomfortable with being offered councilor (could he have said no?)

well this seems…relatively innocuous (“support me and I’ll make sure you get access to my new stuff first”)

but of course, the fool shakes the devil’s hand, and his soul falls to the sound of laughing gods

beautiful violin music for fucked up politics tho! Wonder if it’s on YouTube or the Arcane OST

hey Cait be more sex positive! though with your background I can’t say I blame you, societal standards around sex work suck

*gasp* VICAIT VICAT VICAIT VICSIT

WOMEN YES YOU GO GIRL

omg that horrendously bad southern accent that immediately goes back to British/Piltovan(?)

“pirate”

oh my GOD

YOU

yussy is canonically plot-relevant I can’t

ah the coin stained with Grayson’s blood, Very Symbolic (but seriously why would he keep that coin? Even if it’s a reminder shouldn’t the blood be brown?)

OH SHIT THAT’S A WAY TO REMOVE A CHARACTER FROM THE PICTURE

HOW IS SILCO GOING TO SURVIVE THIS??

nvm Marcus continues to suck

I mean Topside will definitely have political and economic power – being able to explode skulls with magic doesn’t necessarily translate to true power, as lots of fiction is eager to forget

well, that plus I’m pretty sure he’s more a bio than a physics/mechanics/thaumaturgics guy

Yussy giving us some good old fashioned “do what you gotta do” survivor mentality

I am a mariner of the good ship Vicait but just this??? Cait?? Being tender?? With another woman??? 🥺🥺🥺 A+

Mel I’m sorry but you are so full of shit

viktor: Heterosexuality? in My laboratory? you fool. you nincompoop. you turnip holding dullard. my only loves are unethical science and glaring at jayce talis as i enter a state of sophisticated malding

and red, for the Evolution yet to come

oh shit *this* is the Evolution’s birth! presumably Viktor will wake up, see the hextech reacted to his blood, and realize integrating hextech with flesh is the way to go

ooh 2D fluid animation

Well fuck they just

What

Wh

Uh

Why are they intercutting these two scenes

I got spoiled and knew there was a Jayce/Mel sex scene at some point but why did they have to frame it like that

“better then gen:LOCK’s” my ass

Guess there’s your equal and opposite reaction – for every tender Cait and ViCait scene, there’s a really weird het sex scene

damn Jayce is really just this post but steampunk

Silco: dips

jinx: “um dad are you okay this can’t be happening again”

is it just me or does Silco look actually hot after that chem dip? If nothing else his hair’s def slicked back

Powder this might sound good but I promise you it’s gonna fuck you up in the end

“You’re strong now” kiddo you gotta make like Allison Ruth and realize that strength beyond strength is found only in those you love

“Jinx is perfect” oh god does he know what this means to her?

uh Silco why do you gotta hold her Like That

and this DEFINITELY isn’t healthy are you going to give her a rebreather Silco? Is she just going to hold her breath??? What if she emerges a new kickass woman and then dies a week later from septic shock???

JINX SHIMMER TRANSFORMATION?

no

something better

BWOMP

BWOMP (LOOK OUT FOR YOURSELF)

IT’S THE BOYS

THEY CANONICALLY EXIST IN UNIVERSE

WAS THAT MUSIC VIDEO OF THEM RELEASED BEFORE ACT II OR AM I JUST BEHIND

BECAUSE IF IT WAS RELEASED BEFORE THEN DAMN THAT’S A NICE TEASER

I am now just realizing that I would like sevika to please step on me

Bastard man is miserable at work! Good for him

wow that drawing does NOT bode well for his chances of survival (also can we please just let shitty cops be shitty without any redemption arcs? bad people can have sympathetic qualities but still be bad people)

Part of me – a small, silent part – feels kinda bad for Mel, because to the surprise of nobody it turns out being a manipulative elite is lonely

Oh

Oh fuck

This is much worse than just nausea and a nosebleed

Ah some good ol major arcana! though I’m not sure if they represent people or events, or if it’s just a cool little detail that ultimately doesn’t mean anything

YOU GO VI

oh so those guys ARE blonde shimmer monster’s old gang members! Bald guy got his nose fucked up tho

Wait it’s been a While since I saw Act I, did Vi and Sevika know each other? or is she a traitor in a broader class traitor sense?

ah the good ol fashioned slow mo cape throw off. bit cliche, but still classic!

OOF that’s gotta have hurt

okay at first I was wondering if I was overanalyzing this fight scene but. there’s definitely something iffy about all the protags being white and more antagonistic characters (Mel, Sevika) being POC

okay make the darker skinned woman display visibly animalistic behavior okay okay yep this is totally fine /s

at first I wasn’t sure how I felt about how the punches’ weight not seeming to connect, but yeah it’s very clear that this is a visceral fight, like episode 1 – no theatrics, just two people trying to beat the ever living shit out of each other and gradually wearing each other down

oh that reaction to her name is subtle but speaks volumes

OH FUCK

a mortal wound, to body and soul

Cait not saying you should have but you could absolutely have headshot her, especially in that brief pause where you looked all cinematic-like

thank you for proving my point Vi

Again, not saying killing her was justifiable (though maybe I’m overthinking how much socioeconomics influence the morality of a no punches pulled fight) but it’s kinda yours Cait

“But you’re so sweet. Like a cupcake.” “Shut up.” MY HEART

oh fuck Jinx is gonna use magic, like not just as a battery but actually do reality warping shit, oh god oh fuck

also as an aside: LOVE how Arcane portrays Jinx here. it’s nice to see the fact that she’s not only a mechanical genius (all her weapons? SHE BUILT THOSE HERSELF), but a mechanical genius who deals with psychosis (in maybe less than healthy ways, but still) highlighted, rather than just having her be “haha funny crazy explosion girl

Sevika: comes in clearly having been beaten up and with a busted arm

Silco: dammit sev I just got done with my eye goop needle

act ii finale is going to wreck me isn't it

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane netflix #violet league of legends #vi league of legends #violet arcane #vi arcane #vi x caitlyn #powder arcane #arcane jinx #jinx league of legends #silco arcane #mel medarda #jayce talis #jayce arcane #jayce league of legends #viktor arcane #viktor league of legends #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn league of legends #caitlyn arcane #mariner reacts #mariner screams about arcane #arcane spoilers

[heauxzenji]

Szn’s Creamings

Miya Osamu x Fem!Reader

Warnings: oof a lot sorry- eggnog(its delicious and you’re all just mean), corruption if you squint, clandestine sex I guess? Choking, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), nipple play, the Miya accent, improper use of Christmas decorations, bondage, unprotected sex(you should know to expect this from my writing by now), vaginal penetration, squirting, creampies/breeding, use of the word daddy like ONCE, cum eating, a dash of overstim for optimal flavor, ahegao (😌) aaaaand snowballing (aka spitting cum in someone’s mouth) swearing obviously ummmmm shit man idk anymore I’m 999% sure that’s it- good shit below da cut

Wc: 2.5k

A/N: Merry Christmas to those who celebrate, and a VERY Happy Holiday no matter your culture’s festivities! This is part of my collab with my lovely friends in The Sewer Server- @rat-suki ty anu for organizing it all! I’m love u. This fic was written in an eggnog & fireball induced  blackout, and is singlehandedly fueled by lust for Osamu’s Dorito body and my love for Steak n’ Shake.

Cheese-on’s Greetings Collab mlist here 🎄🎁🐁

“This... is it?” He cocked an eyebrow at the concoction, the red and green sprinkles bleeding dye into the whipped cream, the sad cherry on top sunken into it. 

“This is what you’ve been goin’ on about fer the last 3 weeks?” 

This- was an eggnog milkshake. A wintertime classic, and a staple at the local diner in your hometown. Simple enough. It didn’t look like much- in fact, it honestly wasn't. But to you, this shitty, artificially-flavored diner milkshake encompassed all the joys of holiday magic into one tall, frosted glass. You could count the years you spent in this diner, knocking them back. You’ve grown of course, but the nostalgia always stays the same. Having Osamu come to your hometown for the holidays was a pretty big step in your relationship, sure, but including him in the milkshake tradition usually reserved for your best friend? That was even bigger. 

“You haven’t even taken a sip, you ass,” you giggled, putting your own straw to your lips, reveling in the cool flavor that was coating your tongue. Pure sugar, just a hint of nutmeg and cinnamon- perfect as always. You pushed the glass over to him, urging him to try for himself. He took in a large drink, letting it rest before clicking his tongue a few times and looking over at your eyes- eyes that were aglow with anticipation and gingerbread men? No, that was just the reflection of the gaudy tinsel that adorned the booth you sat in. 

“Soooo?” 

“Not bad,” he sighed, pushing the glass back your way. Always anticlimactic. 

“But I could definitely make one that’s better.”

“I’d like to see you try,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him. 

One thing you knew he could never resist was a challenge. Grabbing his wallet, he slammed some bills on the table, whisking you away from the diner in 2 minutes flat, the milkshake an ever present memory, like that of the favorite Christmas gift from childhoods passed. You didn’t think he’d take it that seriously, but you also knew that Osamu took everything- especially food- seriously.

Even still, the drive back to your parents’ was a calm one, like every night adventure. The only difference was the bitter cold in the air, and the soft crooning of songs about Santa Claus on the radio. The only thing was- you just couldn’t stop pressing your thighs together….

“Put it away, sir.” you said jokingly, shifting your current position on the couch. Miracle on 34th Street shown on the small screen of the television as you flicked through what seemed like every Christmas movie ever made with the remote.  The feeling of his cock starting to stiffen at your back told you everything you needed to know; that Osamu wasn’t interested in whether or not Santa Claus was real, or  whatever the ‘true’ meaning of Christmas was- he was solely interested in the meaning of that which currently resided between your legs. 

A sneaky had drifted under your shirt, breath hitching in your throat as his thick fingers rolled one of your nipples, the soft tugging leaving you mewling as the sensation traveled down to your now throbbing clit. You leaned into it for a split second, but you were bought back to reality by the sight of your family’s Christmas photos on the fireplace mantle. There was no way in hell you could get fucked in front of a photo of your grandmother. You swatted Osamu’s hand away.

“We can NOT do this right now-” your words fell on deaf ears as  his hand snaked up your thigh, leaving a trail of warmth in  its wake as he settled them right above your stomach, fiddling with the drawstrings of your shorts. 

“My mom and dad are literally upstairs….” The words left your mouth faintly your body lurching toward him.

Again, you tried. A valiant attempt. It wasn’t a lie- they most certainly were upstairs, presumably fast asleep, as they had been up there for almost two hours now, leaving you and Osamu to watch a few corny Christmas movies- or so they thought. But he saw through your objections. Hearing the way your voice softened, seeing how your chest wavered as he got closer and closer to your face, he simply couldn’t contain himself. 

“It’s not my fault ‘ya wanted to stay here,” he huffed, large hands seizing your own, pushing away their protests as he passed his thumb up and down your clothed slit. You bit your lip in an effort to silence the moan that was bubbling its way up and out of your mouth. You had started to become feverish, your own state of vulnerability apparent as Osamu used one arm to pin your wrists above your head, sending your lower half flailing and bucking up into his free hand as you whimpered desperately for his touch.

“You want it, don’t ya, little love?” Little love. The one pet name you could never resist. Almost like a switch, you moaned a particularly needy, not-so-hushed “hmmhm- yes, daddy,” that definitely would have blown your cover. Luckily, Osamu’s thick fingers worked their way into your mouth to silence you, your lips immediately wrapping around them and obediently sucking to heed his words.

“Just be s’quiet as possible,” his hushed tone came out in a low baritone. He pressed a finger to his lips, pointing another up toward the ceiling from the couch of your parents living room. 

Keeping your arms restrained, your boyfriend’s free hand pushed past your layers of clothes, your saliva coated his fingers, providing just enough slickness to enter your hole with ease, gently curling against that soft spot right inside. You were so warm, so needy, easily molding into his touch as he watched your eyes widen within his. You fixed your mouth to open, but it hung there as his fingers worked, your cunt sucking  them in manically. 

“F-fuck,” you could barely manage that. “Please I-hmph- please…”

“Use yer words, little love,” he cooed, the tone of his voice was sickeningly slow as he teased you, slowing his fingers down. You bucked your hips in protest, pouting and wiggling underneath him to feel some form of friction.

“Stop Squirmin’.” His demeanor shifted immediately, darkening at your perceived disobedience. The hands that held your wrists met your throat, a half gasp escaping you as he gently squeezed, your face softening into a pout. 

“I said- use yer words.”

“Please, please fuck me,” you squeaked. “F-fill me up.”

“Then we gotta find a way t’keep ya nice n’ still. Will you be good fer me?”

You nodded. You always were. Osamu’s ability to render you a compliant, malleable toy for him to fuck was astounding. You could spend the rest of your life being his obedient little thing without a care in the world or a complaint.

“I know ya will,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “My little love’s always s’good…” 

You knew you were in for it- but you didn’t expect this. It was a little different from your normal setup, but at the same time, the rush of excitement built in the pit of your stomach just as it did the first time ‘Samu ever bound you. It just so happened that there were some discarded lights nearby the Christmas tree. You could see the glimmer of an idea in his eyes as he plugged them in, smiling as the glow lit up his face. He looked at you on the couch and wiggled his eyebrows- as much as you wanted to laugh out loud, you weren’t in the position to be picky about your rigging tonight. You had to make do. 

“It’s…. festive?” You could tell that even he was amused. But amusement aside, the desire that built between you, the stored tension of having not touched each other for almost two days now was clearly screaming to be addressed. His large hands made a bite in the wiring of the lights and they quickly found themselves around your wrists, the illumination beautiful, but also kind of blinding this close to your face. With a kiss to your lips, he moved from your wrists and down toward your torso, trailing an interesting track of holiday cheer into a harness around your chest and tying in your back. Your arms were bent forward at the elbow, snugly enough so that you could wiggle your fists, but your wrists were of no use.

 Pushing you onto your knees, you felt the press of your boyfriend’s hand against your back as he repositioned your arms and elbows to place you on all fours. Cool air immediately hit the skin of your lower half as you felt him pull your bottoms off. You wriggled your hips in an effort to help, but instead your flesh was met with an aggressive strike. Managing to catch your discomfort in your throat, a lowered hiss bared through your gritted teeth, soon followed by a sharpened inhale as you felt the presence of him towering over you. 

“Been thinking about the way those cute lips were wrapped around that straw all night,” he panted, palming his cock through his sweats. You could see how uncomfortably hard he was- it lit a fire in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t wait to serve him, you couldn’t wait to feel the weight of his thick cock against your tongue- and stretching your pussy past it’s limits.

“I bet’cher sweet mouth wrapped around my cock would look even prettier, don’t ya think?” 

His words hit at your core. Your mouth began to water in anticipation as he pulled himself out of his sweats, gently pumping before lining up at your mouth. 

Delicately, your tongue swirled down the slit of the head, plush lips wrapping around the pink bulb. Osamu’s hands guided your head down the length, drool sliding out of your mouth and down your  chin, where it dripped onto your chest, riddled with bright multicolored light. Slowly, he fucked himself with your throat, allowing you to adjust to his girth. 

“Yep,” he exhaled deeply, hissing at how warm your mouth felt around him.

 “Ev’n prettier.”

 His motions sped up as he bobbed your head up and down, the slight saltiness of his precum going down easily, leaving you practically begging for a full load.  You always craved him on your tongue- he tasted much better than any diner milkshake could. The soft gargling of his assault on your throat slowed to a stop as he pulled you off, leaving you gasping for air. Licking the drool from the corners of your lips, Osamu kissed you passionately before throwing your bound body onto the couch.

You clenched haphazardly around his cock as soon as he entered you, head flying forward with the force of his thrusts. His arm held you upright, parallel to his chest as his cock pistoned in and out of your hole. 

“‘S-sa-ah!~ ‘Samu- ffuck!” Your eyes snapped shut as he fucked into you. His breathy grunts resounded deep in your ears, sending jolts of molten lust down your spine, chest heaving as you tried keeping your voices down. Your hot, wet cunt sucked him in deeper and deeper each time he entered you- your urge to milk him for everything he had was only made more apparent by it. 

“I can feel you baby,” He purred into your ear. “So fucking wet.” 

Osamu released you from his hold, letting you fall forward into the couch, one hand pushing your head into the cushions, the other roughly kneading at the flesh where your ass and hip met, digging his nails into the flesh as he began to carnally pound into your pussy. Each stroke hit your sweet spot with a ridiculously precise skill. Your muffled sobs echoed into the cushions of the couch as he drilled you, never once slowing the rate in which his hips snapped into yours. You wouldn’t be surprised if the smacking of his skin against yours woke your parents at this rate- you couldn’t be bothered to care with your orgasm this close to the horizon. 

Somehow you managed to free a hand from your twinkling ties, immediately pushing it to your clit to rub it feverishly. The squelching started up shortly after, your ears beginning to ring as your throat squealed itself raw into the deep void beneath you. Osamu pulled you back by your hair, pressing his lips to your ear and clasping a hand to your mouth.

“Keep rubbing that pretty pussy, sweet girl, so fucking close to cumming fer me, aren’t ya?”

You could only whine in response. He softened the hand on your mouth, muffled words spilling out.

“I’m gonna cu-ah-cum! Please let me cum!” 

“Hmmm? Gonna cum? Did I hear ya right, little love?” He knew what he was doing, egging you on like this.

You were mere milliseconds away from losing it, the edge pulling up to you so close that you could barely collect yourself as you began to feel yourself slip over it- eyes whiting out as Osamu gave you the go-ahead. 

“Just let me c-” he finished your sentence for you.

“Cum.” It was a simple word, a simple command. But the way it hit your ears: the way the low growl tore through your body- you didn't stand a chance. The warm wetness of your release sprayed against his abs, trickling down your thighs and pooling into the upholstery. Your eyes crossed, face contorting further into lewd bliss as a scream tried to escape your mouth- but only silence hiccuped its way out. 

“Good fucking girl- now take this, baby. Take it all…” God, he was the devil. 

Fucking you through it- your boyfriend chased his own high, cock twitching inside as the vision of you wrapped in lights blurring into colorful stars as he spilled into you, his load coating your insides with a mass of sticky, soothing heat. You both collapsed into each other, bodies writhing as you caught your heavy breaths. 

As he slipped out of you, Osamu lifted your hips to his mouth, sucking in the mixture of his and your own release, savoring it on his tongue. Your puffy, fucked-out cunt spasmed at the contact, the sensation overwhelming as you tugged at his steely grey locks, snapping his head back. 

“Hmmph-  s’too much ‘Samu!” Your thighs clamped together as soon as he released you.

Humming a soft apology, he moved up from your lower lips to the upper ones, pushing his tongue past them, spitting arousal across your tongue. You swallowed the mixture greedily, smiling against his lips. You could still feel ropes of cum pouring from your spamming hole and leaking onto your thighs.

“Whaddaya think?” The words were slurred against the skin at the crook of your neck while he peppered your skin with kisses.

“Delicious.” You looked at him with a smirk, mind still hazy as your body shook its way through a few more aftershocks. 

“Told ya I could make a better milkshake.”

 As he said it, laughter broke out between the two of you. Your chest struggled against the harness, as it was still pretty tight. Osamu unplugged the decorations, gently untying you as snow fell outside your living room window, the faint jingling of bells filling the room again as the tv light illuminated you both. 

 Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @ukeis @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith

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[roanniom]

The Night That Follows

Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 8,000~ 

Summary: While celebrating a successful mission, you and Poe accidently ingest a mysterious beverage that makes it hard to resist one another, helping you forget the stress that weighs you down and the friendship that you’ve been holding between you two as a shield. 

Note: This is my first ever non-ADCU fic and it is dedicated to the ever lovely and supportive @paper-n-ashes who urged me to get out of my comfort zone and cheered me on.  

Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, sex pollen, drugged drink (it’s drugged with the sex pollen by a 3rd party and not with malicious intent but it still might be triggering), masturbation (f/m), PIV sex, unprotected sex, war-related angst 

When people talk about war, they often discuss the paralyzing fear, the numbing depression. Hopelessness that spreads through your veins like cold water as you face immeasurable odds and stare death in the face day after day. And you can attest to these feelings. You experience them with each dawn that breaks, muddy in the sky regardless of the atmosphere shrouding whatever planet you find yourself waking on each morning. Your life is transient, full of ships and bases and camps. The constants are the clothes on your back, the friends in your squadron (those who survive), and the x-wing you hop in each time danger calls.

The other constant is the part of war that people do not discuss. The rush of adrenaline every time you make it out of a tough scrape. Adrenaline that burns your veins, evaporating the icy hopelessness that had flooded you up until the minute your boots hit turf and your jellied knees catch up to the reality that you are still very much alive. The euphoria that crackles in your brain when you spy your best mate zooming down from above, finally landing and throwing themselves into your arms in the hug you never thought you’d experience again after their coms had gone down in a fire fight. The absolute debauchery of a night of celebration after such a fire fight. Because nobody needs to live quite as much as those who may die.

Which is how you find yourself here, on this non-descript jungle planet, the name of which you didn’t catch during your descent because honestly there have been so many jungle planets and they have all become little more than coordinates on a screen to you at this point. You and your squad have been set up with a mini-festival by the resistance-sympathizing locals as a thank you for your recent decimation of their First Order oppressors. The operation had been pretty seamless, thanks in no small part to the excellent teamwork between you and a one Poe Dameron.

Your flying today had rivaled some of his best, which is certainly saying something since Poe prides himself on being the best pilot in the resistance. You certainly gave him a run for his money, outflying TIE fighters and swiveling shuttle cannons in a perfectly choreographed tandem maneuver wherein the two of you manipulated your assailants to ultimately destroy themselves.

As you knock back a burning shot of the local alcoholic beverage, the liquid tingling and warming you all the way down, you search the triumphant crowd for the cocky pilot who had helped you set the stage for this celebration. You wouldn’t dwell on the earlier events of the day much more tonight. Wouldn’t think much of the comrades you’d lost in the struggle. That was an ache that would throb back to life tomorrow. Tonight, the priority is living.

It is then that you lock eyes with Poe Dameron through the throngs of semi-drunken revelers. His handsome face splits into a wide, cocky grin, so you adopt an exasperated smirk in response as he pushes his way towards you. Such is the game you play. A dance, if you will. Poe plays the role of the self-assured, overly confident golden boy while you, his long suffering partner, humble him with your good-natured criticism and ever rolling eyes.

“Alright there, Sweets?” Poe practically drawls as he reaches you, the nickname both a term of endearment and a teasing reference to the sweet tooth that keeps you hoarding candies of all kinds in your bunk, much to Poe’s own benefit. You beam up at him and upend your little glass to demonstrate its emptiness.

“On my way there, Fly Boy.”

“Looks like you’re falling behind, rookie. Like you did on that triple barrel twist today.”

You throw a punch that lands a little too lightly on his shoulder to produce the grunt and showy flail that he graces you with.

“First of all, you’re not allowed to call me rookie anymore. Your dumb ass might need to be constantly reassured that you’re ‘best pilot in the resistance,’ but by now I am, at worst, second best.” Your gut warms and you’re not sure if it’s the drink or Poe’s deep, full-bodied laugh in response. “And second of all, we don’t talk about the day if we make it to the night.”

Poe almost seems to sober at your words, a phrase of his tossed back at him. The smile remains, though, and he tosses an arm around you before dragging you over to the table that’s been set up with refreshments.

“Right you are, Sweets,” Poe agrees quietly. Louder now and injecting you two into the crowd surrounding the cluster of bottles, he continues, “as for you being second best pilot, I’d rather let the squad decide before you go getting a head too big to fit in your helmet.”

This receives a laugh from the crowd as well as another smattering of slaps thrown towards Poe’s chest.

“Dameron, we all know you already have your own helmet custom made so you can stuff that massive ego in there,” your friend Myrna.

“And those curls,” you add, reaching up and ruffling your hand through his hair in that way that always makes his nose scrunch up in mock anger.

“If you must know, there’s something else they also have to custom make me…” Poe says, grabbing your wrist and forcing your hand to slide down his chest towards the bottom of his flight suit zipper and wiggling his eyebrows. You shriek and yank your hand away.

“In your dreams, Dameron.” Poe leans down toward you so that his face is close enough for you to feel his breath fan across your cheeks.

“Or perhaps in yours?”

Suddenly a small, wrinkled face appears between you. It’s an elderly female member of the local alien race and she’s beaming up at you, holding two steaming mugs and smiling around a garbled statement in a language you don’t recognize.

“Oh I’m sorry, I’m not sure I…” you interrupt her, glancing awkwardly between her massive eyes and Poe’s confused ones.

“I might be able to translate!” Myrna cries out, stumbling forward with a newly refilled glass in her hand.

“You sure that’s not just the liquor talking?” Poe asks with a chuckle. Myrna waves him off and kneels unsteadily to listen to the old woman. More garbled speech issues forward as the woman gestures between you and Poe with her mugs. Myrna nods several times and gives little hums of agreement and affirmation. You and Poe trade glances of amusement during the interaction, but you have to look away when the upturned corner of Poe’s mouth begins to distract you.

“Alright alright,” Myrna pipes up. You turn back in time to see Myrna standing back up to her full height, now holding the two mugs, while the woman waddles back into the crowd.

“What’s the deal?” Poe asks, slinging his arm back around your shoulders. You resist the knee jerk actions that come to mind, both to slap his touch away and to lean into it, standing rigid instead.

“She said these are for you,” Myrna says, pushing the steaming mugs into your hands and Poe’s.

“Did she say why?” You peer at the milky, opalescent contents curiously. Myrna has already moved on, however, turning back to the pilot she’d been hanging on before you and Poe had approached. You look to Poe but he shrugs.

“I don’t know, something about you guys deserving it.” Myrna waves her hand dismissively, obviously ready to get back to her own evening. You look up at Poe, unsure, but he’s nodding and smiling.

“Hear that, Sweets? Seems like word travels fast that we’re the top two pilots,” Poe says cheekily, clinking his mug to yours before throwing back his head and downing its contents in one gulp. Your insides ignite at his acknowledgment, as well as the bob of his adam’s apple, but your eyes still flit warily to your beverage.

“We don’t even know what it is and you’re drinking it?”

“Honey, I’m pretty sure that liquor we were taking shots of earlier was actually jet fuel, I don’t think we need to be too worried about this.” Poe smacks his lips and runs his finger around the inside of the mug. “And besides, it’s really kriffing good.”

Watching the way his cheeks hollow out as he sucks the last dregs of his drink from his finger makes a heat boil in the pit of the stomach. You decide you actually are quite thirsty, and since your curiosity is stronger than your apprehension, you knock the liquid back yourself.

“Atta girl!” Poe cheers you on, nudging you. The drink is sweet and thick on your tongue like a melted version of the ice cream you’d tasted once, many years ago. You can still remember the creamy texture, very much worth the credits paid to the traveling vendor who’d brought it to your village during the hottest summer of your childhood. As you swallow this liquid down, however, its cold temperature changes into a burn, similar to alcohol, though smoother than any liquor you’d ever had.

“Good, right?” Poe asks, eyebrows raised. You nod and lick your lips, sure that you’re imagining things when Poe’s eyes flicker down to your darting tongue.

“That was actually pretty good,” you concede with a grin.

“So what have we learned tonight?” Poe prompts, grabbing your mug from your hands and placing it next to his on a nearby table. You shake your head.

“Your cockiness extends to believing locals on a miniscule planet find you special?”

“The correct answer was ‘always give things a chance,’ Sweets, but you can continue being closeminded if you want,” Poe responds with a chuckle. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and makes to walk away.

“Fine!” You reach out and grab his arm before he can leave. When he rounds back on you with a wide smile you roll your eyes and refuse eye contact. “And just so you know, I’m a lot more open minded than you think, Dameron.”

“Is that so, rookie?” You bristle but as the glee raises in his eyes at your reaction you do your best to tamp it down.

“I’m…flexible,” you say, your grin begrudging. A hubbub breaks out beyond you in the crowd as the makeshift band that had assembled to play party music transitions to a particularly festive song, causing both you and Poe to watch as people begin forming an impromptu dance floor. When Poe turns back at you and raises his eyebrows, expectant, you throw up your hands defensively.

“No. Don’t look at me like that, Fly Boy,” you’re quick to say, but Poe’s even quicker, having already grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to him. Your body collides with his and his other hand finds the dip of your waist.

“Oh I’m sorry, what was that I just heard someone say about being open minded?” Poe asks. In a sudden fluid motion he dips you, bending you over so that your back is parallel to the ground and his face hovers over yours. “Being flexible?”

You let him pull you back up and steady yourself with a hand on his chest to catch your balance, dizzy now, most likely from the suddenness of the motion. You’re about to toss back a witty retort, possibly something that will knock him down a few pegs, but then you catch the glint in his eye and a smile spreads across your lips unbidden.

“You get one dance, Dameron.”

~*~

One dance turned into many, as it turns out. The band, upon realizing their audience’s appetite for raucous music, had begun a steady rotation of upbeat tunes. The dance floor had expanded, spilling out of its original confines in the center of the town square and into the concession areas on the perimeter. Resistance members danced and drank, their bodies jumping and moving to the beat in one chaotic mass of excess energy and euphoria. Bodies writhe against one another in all directions as people seek out friction that can confirm to them that they did indeed survive the day’s trials.

You’re experiencing friction of your own in your little portion of the dance floor. Where things had started out innocently – energetic bouncing to the beat and moving in unison – the tone had long changed. At this point Poe is behind you, arms slung dangerously low on your hips to hold you against him, hands pressed right above your pelvis. The feeling of his chest pressing against your back, his hips bracketing your ass – you’ve lost yourself in the sensations. The rhythm of the music shakes through your muscles but instead of tense and tired, they’re loose and buzzing.

Though truth be told, they aren’t the only thing buzzing. The proximity of Poe’s hands to your lower body feels charged like a magnet. Without thinking you press your hands over the backs of his, encouraging pressure on your lower abdomen. You swear you hear Poe growl behind you has his hands pull you further to him, but it could also be the roar of the crowd. Your hips move in sync, your ass grinding against him in time with the music. Escapism in its purest form is what you’re experiencing in Poe’s arms, held against Poe’s body, matching Poe’s motions. It’s heady and distracting and everything you could ask for to make living feel like living, especially in the aftermath of a day centered on death. You’re content to let this moment last as long as the universe allows.

That is until you realize that the increasing beat you’d thought was a shift in the music is actually the rapid crescendo of your own heartbeat.

Swallowing you find your throat is thick, saliva pooling in your mouth inexplicably. You take a deep breath and allow your mind to reel. How long had you been feeling like this? Why hadn’t you noticed these feelings coming on?

One of the large hands at your hip begins sliding up along the plane of your side and you get your answer. The weight of his touch lights your skin on fire as it drags up and across your collar bone. Your breath feels ragged, rattling around in lungs that can’t seem to take in oxygen no matter how high your chest rises and falls. Poe’s hand lingers on your throat for a second so you swallow again, with even less luck than before. His hand reaches up to grip your jaw which he uses to turn your head back toward him.

Oh.

Poe continues to move behind you, his motions controlling you both on the floor, but his face is strained. Sweat dots his temples, gleaming in his curls, and his teeth seem gritted, making his jaw set at a striking angle. His eyes pin you down, however, and they keep your attention as you gaze back, wide-eyed.

“You okay, rookie?” Poe’s voice is deeper than normal, huskier. The way it reverberates through your body makes a rumbling bubble up deep inside your chest. The beginnings of a moan, perhaps? You’re quick to gasp a response before such a sound has a chance to make its way into the air between you.

“I’m…feeling quite strange.”

The hand still at your waist tightens its grip while the other rejoins on the opposite side. You have to gasp again to keep from moaning. Suddenly you’re being maneuvered forward, Poe’s guidance weaving you through the crowd with ease despite the congested revelry.

Neither of you see the way Myrna is watching you both with a knowing smirk from her place draped around her own handsome pilot beau. Or the way the little old woman who’d gifted you the beverage hovers on the outskirts of the dance floor, a proud look on her wrinkled face as she eyes your retreating figures.

~*~

You’re not really able to follow where Poe is directing you, mainly because of how the imprint of his hands on your body seems to be searing into your skin through your flight suit. While your accelerated heart rate was the thing you had been most worried about, now you are equally worried about the dull ache that has seated itself in the pit of your stomach. You bite down hard on your lip to keep the moan from spilling out, the one you’ve been suppressing since the moment you became conscious to your current discomfort.

When Poe’s stride finally slows to a stop only then are you able to take in your surroundings. Blinking, you’re surprised to find that you’re now outside of the town, far from the lights and bustle of the party, walking into the silent clearing that contains the squadron’s parked aircrafts.

“Why are we all the way out here?” you ask, unsettled by how deep your voice sounds in the darkness.

“Needed to get away from the crowd.” You’re even more unsettled by how breathless Poe’s voice is as he says his first words since the dance floor. So unsettled that you turn in his arms so you can finally take in his disheveled appearance fully.

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t know, it’s the weirdest thing. One minute everything was fine and the next…”

“You can’t catch your breath,” you finish for him and he nods gravely. Both of your chests are practically heaving, pressing into each other with each exhale. When you become aware of this, it also brings awareness of the way his chest pressed up against yours is also adding pressure to your nipples. Since when were your nipples hard? The night is balmy, a cool breeze barely able to disturb the moist warmth that settles in the jungle terrain. You feel sweat begin to collect on the back of your neck and your hairline, much like the sweat causing Poe to shine a bit in the moonlight. And yet your nipples are hard and a shudder runs through your body, nerve endings clearly ten steps ahead of you, taking in some experience to which you’d yet to catch up.

“Wait a minute, look at me,” Poe suddenly orders, his fingers wrapping around your chin to lift your face toward his. You freeze as he stares down at you, eyes widening at whatever he sees.

“What is it?” you ask, voice urgent, almost frightened.

“Your pupils are wide as planets,” he mutters, distracted fingers drawing up the side of your jaw to press to the pulse point at your throat. “Your heartbeat is out of control.”

“I haven’t been able to calm down,” you say, nodding but getting more worried by the second. “Why can’t I calm down? Are you feeling the same way?”

Poe’s mouth presses into a hard line and he turns away abruptly, head tilting down.

“Oh fuck.”

“What?” You try to pull him back toward you but he doesn’t budge.

“I think…we’ve been drugged.”

Your blood runs cold and a hand flies to cover your mouth. You’d known tonight was too good to be true. Your mind races, making connections out of thin air, trying to place when and where you could have possibly come in close enough proximity to First Order agents to be compromised.

“But what – how – what can we do? What is it? Is it deadly?” You’re cut off by a sound issuing from Poe’s now curved body. You wonder at first if it’s a sob, which makes sense because you’re about ready to cry yourself. But then you realize it’s a chuckle.

“I wouldn’t say deadly. Just exceedingly inconvenient.”

“So you know what it is then?” you prompt, tugging at his shoulder some more to try and see his face. “Tell me!”

“Well for starters I’m pretty sure it was that drink the old woman gave us.”

Fuck.

Of course. What was the one suspicious thing you’d ingested all day? The fact that you hadn’t thought about it sooner makes you want to kick yourself, but you press on instead, anxious to have the matter dealt with.

“What does it do?” You hate the tremor that colors your voice. At that Poe finally turns around and you take him in all at once, trying to assess what he could have been hiding. His tall, wide-legged stance makes it easy to notice after a few seconds. As your gaze moves lower on his body you finally see the massive tent forming below the zipper line of his flight suit.

Without even being able to mentally process what you’re looking at your body responds immediately. A rush of warmth and wetness floods the apex of your thighs and the moan that you’d so far been able to hold in finally makes it way out of your throat. Poe’s eyes, which had recently gone hooded, widen in response to the lewd sound. You clap a hand over your mouth and snap your eyes back up to his face, away from the rigid shape that had made the muscles inside you contract wantonly around nothing.

“It’s made from a plant that’s meant to accelerate sex drive,” Poe says matter-of-factly.

You almost don’t hear him because your eyes have already slid back down his body, feasting on the sight of his impressive bulge. You’d heard stories of Poe’s sexual prowess, many from the man’s own loud mouth. You knew he’d satisfied many members of the Resistance, male and female alike. But you had never truly let yourself consider what he’d be like. What he’d look like. What he’d feel like…

“Why would she possibly give that to us of all people?” You feel like you’re going to cry. The feelings coursing through your body are overwhelming.

“Maybe she went around spiking many people at the party. Maybe she just thought you and I would look hot together? You can’t blame her for that one.” Poe winks at you and it diffuses some of your angst. You let out a tense laugh and shake your head.

“How do we make it stop?” you force yourself to ask, just as you force yourself yet again to look back up in his eyes. Poe averts his own, a sheepish look overtaking his face. When he doesn’t answer you step forward and grab his arm in alarm, trying not to consider the way his bicep bulges under his sleeve. “Poe?!”

“We have to…take care of it.”

You’re launching yourself away from him before he can finish the sentence. You probably knew the answer before you’d even asked the question, but his words still sent electricity through your spine.

“We can’t. That’s…that’s crazy – you’re crazy, Dameron!”

“Hey, you think I like this? Standing here like an idiot with my dick so hard I can barely see straight?”

The sexual nature of his words, spoken so plainly and without euphemism for the first time, makes a new wave of wetness pool between your legs against your will.

“Don’t….talk about it,” you say through gritted teeth, closing your eyes in an attempt to center yourself.

“What? Don’t talk about my aching cock?” he asks, almost as a challenge. He’s frustrated now, egged on by your attitude.

“Stop it.”

“Are you about to tell me you aren’t wet right now?”

You turn your back on him in a childish and fruitless attempt at blocking out his words. When you don’t reply you hear his footsteps as he approaches from behind.

“If we’re both having the same reaction, and I’m certain we are, then I’d imagine you’re practically dripping right now.”

His words would have made your eyes cross if you didn’t have them shut so tightly. A hand molds around your hip while the other grasps at the side of your neck, both working in tandem to pull your back flush against his front. The impact, though gentle, knocks the wind out of you. Or whatever wind had been in you in the first place. His lips are at your ear then and you melt into his touch.

“If we take care of this together we’ll go back to normal.”

“…back to normal?” you ask, simply repeating and not really aware of your words.

“Exactly.”

“I…I don’t know.” Poe’s hardened length is pressing into your ass now, insistent and firm behind you. The hand on your hip migrates lower to pull you against him. A swivel of his hips causes your own to follow the momentum, gyrating in their own right.

“We can be quick,” Poe coos, his voice vibrating over your earlobe where his lips are making contact with your skin. Another low chuckle sounds. “Or I can take my time if you want. Either way, I can promise you’ll enjoy it.”

There’s your cocky Fly Boy.

You wrench yourself from his grasp and take a few steadying steps away before gaining the wherewithal to turn back and face him once more. He looks supremely disappointed, arms still outstretched in the place where you had just been.

“Does this really have to be a…team effort?” you ask, face screwed up with discomfort. Poe runs a hand through his hair and casts a distracted glance about your surroundings.

“I mean I guess theoretically one could take care of themselves – ”

“Great!” you cut him off and stalk around to the other side of his x-wing. Of course he’d brought you to his ship. You look around for your own but when you can’t find it you plop yourself down on the ground.

“Are you kriffing serious?” comes Poe’s angry voice behind you as he stomps over. “We could bang this out and feel better but you’re just going to – ”

“Oh ‘bang’ this out? Real nice, Dameron.”

“You know what I mean.” You can practically hear his eye roll.

“The other side,” you say simply, lowering the zipper on your flight suit. When you don’t hear the sound of his retreating footsteps, however, you pause. “Stay on the other side of the ship, Dameron.”

He grumbles but does as you say. When you finally hear the sound of him throwing himself to the ground, you lift the tab of your zipper again. However, the loud and sudden ziiiip indicating that he’s yanked open his own garment seems ring out then in the clearing and you’re inundated with mental images of what that must look like. Poe sprawled on the ground with his flight suit open and askew. You imagine the expanse of his chest, the way the muscle would ripple in the shadows of the jungle. You’d seen him without a shirt before, the arms of his flight suit tied at his waist as he reclined beneath his x-wing making repairs. Covered in sweat and grease. The memory and the subsequent lurid thoughts have you dipping your hand down into the small opening you’ve made in your clothes, not fully comfortable enough to expose yourself entirely to the elements. When you reach the place between your thighs you have to swallow the gasp that bursts forth at the realization that Poe had been right. You’re not just wet. You’re dripping.

“Fuck.”

You think you say it quietly but a chuckle from the other side of the ship proves otherwise.

“Need any help over there?”

You ignore him and try to focus in on your own body, closing your eyes. You allow a hand to ghost over your breast as you ease a finger through your folds. You feel the insistent thrumming of your pulse even down below and your breath is shallow in your chest. The images dancing behind your eyelids show you flashes, glimpses of things you try to banish from your mind. The angle of Poe’s jaw. His faint, ever present stubble. The arch of his eyebrow. The curve of his smirk. His ass in those pants.

“Sweets…”

Poe’s voice interrupts a whimper you hadn’t even realized you were releasing.

“Poe.” Your voice is small and it cracks around his name. Your muscles are contracting but nothing you do eases the sensation. It just continues building within you. “It hurts.”

“Just come over here. I don’t even have to touch you. Just let me help you through it.”

You ponder the darkness before you, the way it envelops the other aircrafts in this makeshift parking zone. You hear a shick shick shick behind you and your cunt aches. Completely in response to the siren call of Poe Dameron’s building pleasure. You’re immediately intensely jealous. Jealous of the way that, you assumed, he was having more luck getting himself off than you were, despite the fingers inside you right now. Jealous of the way his voice didn’t crack when he beckoned you over.

But most of all jealous of the fact that he’s the one currently touching his hard cock. Not you.

You will yourself to stand up, pulling your hand out of your flight suit but not bothering to zip it back up. On jelly legs you make your way to the other side of the ship. The far side, facing away from the town square and the distant glow of the party you’ve now forgotten.

As you round the edge of the x-wing you bite your lip at the sight before you. Poe is indeed sprawled out with his suit zipped all the way down. His thick member protrudes from the bottom of the opening, a fist moving up and down rapidly, pulling from root to flushed tip in skilled motions. However the eyes that gaze up at you from under his unruly mop of curly hair are not doused with pleasure and satisfaction as you’d imagined. Instead he looks pained, almost agonized. At the sight of you he sits up a bit and does his best to give you a reassuring smile though it comes out as more of a grimace.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful, rookie.”

“That’s the drink talking,” you dismiss, despite the way your stomach swoops as you move to settle yourself down next to him, careful not to make contact. “And you know I hate you calling me rookie.”

“I’ll call you anything you want, baby, as long as you start touching yourself.”

Your cunt pulses at his words so suddenly that you almost double over. Your breathing, already ragged, speeds up as you feel the overwhelming urge to have something deep inside you. Dropping your hand into the opening in your suit you halt, however, watching Poe warily in your peripheral vision. He catches you looking and reluctantly stills the hand moving on member.

“Would sitting back to back help?” he sighs. You nod, scrambling over so that your back is to his.

This is better. This is much better, you think as you dip your hand back between your legs and into the waiting slick. You drag a finger in tight circles over your clit and do your best to calm the racing thoughts that flit back to images of Poe’s body.

The body that is currently pressed to yours, though not at all in the manner you would prefer.

Poe grunts then, making you lose your rhythm.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve wanted you, you know.”

You cut your answering gasp off at the source, not daring to make a sound lest it interrupt this information that you desperately needed to here. He interprets your silence correctly and continues.

“I’ve thought about you. When I’m in the cockpit on my way to some distant planet. When not even hyper speed can get me there quick enough before thoughts of you creep in.” He almost sounds mad, but you get it. The emotions coursing through your body along with the hormones are driving you wild and you don’t know how to feel.

“What…what are the thoughts about?” you can’t help but ask.

“I’d love to say it’s your smile or your brains or something sweet like that. And I do think about those things too, don’t get me wrong,” he says on a hoarse chuckle. “But it’s mainly your body.”

You slip a third finger inside your cunt as he says this, his words and the feeling mixing to cause you to let out an unchecked moan. You feel Poe’s body shudder against you.

“Shit Sweets you’re killing me.” You feel him tense as his hand begins moving faster. “I think about how you look poured into that flight suit. The way your tits and ass jiggle when you hop into your x-wing – fuck.” Another shudder wracks through his body and you can’t take it anymore. The way you’re touching yourself isn’t the way you usually do it. Not in those rare moments where you’ve got the sleeping quarters to yourself and you’re able to get yourself off in your bunk to images of a chiseled jawline, a clothed bulge, rippling muscles, soft, curly hair…

You abruptly pitch yourself forward to balance yourself on your knees and one hand while the remaining hand redoubles its efforts between your legs. The shift in position ends your physical contact with Poe and he swivels to see.

“What are you – ”

“Don’t turn around,” you gasp out. Your new angle works in your favor as your swollen clit becomes more sensitive, pulled down by gravity so that every swipe of your finger becomes more potent. “But for the love of gods, don’t stop talking.”

Poe is taken aback by your sudden forwardness, but he doesn’t let it faze him for long. Instead you hear his renewed efforts at jerking off as the sound of skin swiping across skin, made smoother by spit and precum, gets louder behind you.

“What do you want me to talk about? How much I wish it was your tight little pussy I was fucking instead of my fist?”

The whimper you release at that statement is unlike any sound you’ve ever made and it only spurs Poe on.

“And I just know you’re tight. I know it. And wet too, just like I guessed you were. I can hear it, baby,” he practically growls and you become intensely away of the slick, creamy sounds coming from the rapid in and out, in and out rhythm of your fingers delving into your cunt. “You’re dripping, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” You close your eyes and hear his words and wish the fingers inside you were harder, thicker, him.

“You wish it was my cock inside you, I know you do. You don’t want to admit it but you wish I was pounding into you, making you feel good. Making the ache go away.”

Your answering whine confirms his beliefs and he lets out a triumphant grunt.

“Fuck, baby. I want it, too. Bury myself deep inside of you and fuck you till that drink wears off and you’re still screaming for me, that’s how good it would be.”

“Oh gods.”

“Tell me who you’re wet for.”

“Y-you.” It comes out small. You’re shocked that you even say it, especially with how much you’ve been fighting all of this. You want it. You want it in your bones and in your blood and in your tight, spasming cunt. But you also want Poe’s friendship. Want him to tousle your hair on the way to the hanger. Want him to keep sending you funny messages over your data pad, constantly trying to outdo your own silly riddles and jokes. Want to tease him and eat dinner with him in the mess hall and slap him when he says something stupid and yell at him when he does something dangerous and cry when he doesn’t come back on time from a mission…

A sob finds its way out of your body, sandwiched between two moans. You’re not sure Poe even heard it until his voice reaches your ears again, this time gentler.

“Sweets? Is this working for you?”

You take a shuddering breath before answering.

“No.”

You practically hear Poe slump in defeat, the rhythm of his hand on his length slowing down. You bite your lip before continuing.

“Take me, Poe.”

“What?” Poe whirls around so fast you feel the air woosh over you as he disturbs it. You jump to your feet, still facing away from him and yank your flight suit over your shoulders and down your body, stepping out so it pools on the ground. He watches as you get back down on your hands and knees before him in your underwear, ass in the air, waiting for him to catch up.

“I need you, Poe. Just…just please get inside me,” you say, reaching back to pull the damp fabric of your panties aside, exposing your glistening, swollen folds for him to see.

You don’t have to ask him a third time. He’s on you so fast that you’re confused by his motions. It takes a few seconds before you realize that he’s taken your discarded flight suit and stretched it out on the ground, positioning you over it so that your hands and knees are protected from the dirt. The sweetness of this considerate action is offset by the way his fingers dig harshly into your hips, maneuvering your ass so that it lines up with his pelvis. You tilt forward, aided by pressure on your lower back which raises your click cunt to the level of his cock.  

“I’m going to make you feel so good – ”

“No more words, Dameron. Just shut up and get your cock inside – FUCK.” He spears you mid-sentence and you immediately fall down onto your elbows. Your ass still in the air, held in place by his hard grip, receives a smack and you cry out, feeling no pain. Only pleasure as the sting ripples through you and into your clenching cunt. He feels it deep inside you and groans.

“Maybe you’re the one who needs to shut up, baby.” His words issue forth from gritted teeth. “Always fucking teasing me with that fucking mouth.” His hips rut into yours, taking up an unforgiving pace, while the rest of his body folds over yours so his chest pressed flush to your back. One hand closes tightly around your chin, wrenching up your head and dragging a finger over your bottom lip which has grown plump from biting. “This beautiful, bossy fucking mouth. Always telling me off, telling me what to do.”

Your tongue darts out to meet his skin and his other fingers caress your chin in response. It’s a stark contrast to the almost feral way he is still clutching your hip and driving into you over and over.

There’s almost no resistance. You’re tight, cunt clutching onto his throbbing cock in an effort to keep him buried inside, but you’re wetter than you’ve ever been and it’s making his thrusts effortless. You assume it’s a side effect of the drink. But in some part of your brain you can’t believe that a plant could possibly make a man’s cock feel as good as Poe’s does right now inside you. How a plant could cause you to feel pleasure that is not simply rooted in the way his hand drags down from your jaw to wrench your breasts out of the cups of your bra. How a plant could in any way magnify the surely already intoxicating feeling of Poe’s mouth working at the side of your neck, the curve of your shoulder.

“This working, baby? This doing it?” Poe checks in then, not relenting in his thrusts. Never relenting. “You’re squeezing me, so I know your little pussy likes it.”

A shuddering gasp kicks through you before you can answer his question and he laughs. The vibrations go straight from his cock to your clit and you whimper some more.

“Your sounds. I want to record these little sounds you’re making and play them back when I’m flying. Have you fill the space in my x-wing till I can’t take it any more.” Poe presses a kiss to the back of your shoulder, nipping and then laving the skin over with his tongue. “I’m going to hear these sounds in my dreams.”

“It’s…just…the drink,” you practically hiccup, barely able to form thoughts from the way your body has focused all energy, all recognitions of nerve endings to the space between your thighs. Poe slaps your ass again and you keen.

“Just listen to yourself, baby. No drink is making you sound this hot. That’s all you, Sweets.”

Before you can argue further you do take a second to listen. To the way your shallow breaths mix with whimpers and whines. The gurgle in the back of your throat when his cock bounces against your cervix. He’s right. It is hot. You are hot. You reach a hand down to your clit, desperate to increase the already mind-blowing stimulation, greedy for more.

“You feel so good. You’re sosososogood,” you barely manage to slur. Despite your inability to fully speak you make the attempt because you assume that if hearing your gasps is egging him on, your words will amplify it. And amplify it they do. Poe’s hips stutter for a second before he drops down heavier on you, thrusting deeper and from a more primal place. A hand savagely kneads at one of your breasts, playing with the nipple.  

“I’ve never been this full. I can’t take it, I can’t…”

“Seems like you’re taking it pretty well, baby,” Poe coos, pressing more kisses to the side of your neck.

“I need m-more,” you gasp, realizing with urgency that the pressure in your core is finally building past the plateau of the last…hour? Half an hour? How long had this been going on? All night? It doesn’t matter because Poe’s inside you and he’s listening to you and suddenly you’re being slammed into with all the force he can muster. He expertly wrings pleasure from your body and you feel yourself careening toward a release that you can’t describe. Just out of reach and full of all the potential energy inherent in an object rocketing toward the moon only to soon plummet back to the depths.

“Poe! I…I…oh fuck…oh gods…I…”

“Go on, baby. Cum.”

“You ha- ahhhh. But you…y-you…” You’re babbling. You’re incoherent, not wanting to leave him behind in the blinding ache that comes before release. Your hands are fisting in the flight suit below you, desperate for something solid, something substantial to hold onto.

“Don’t wait for me, Sweets. Let go.”

And then his hands are closing over yours, fingers interlacing and squeezing down, pinning you to the ground with white knuckles that would hurt if you weren’t squeezing him right back, finally grounded in the way you needed.

And you’re cumming.

And cumming.

You feel every muscle in your body seize and spasm and bliss roils out through you in waves. You shake and stutter under him, feeling fresh wetness gush down around his cock as he fucks you through the feeling. You keep waiting for it to stop but it doesn’t, it only intensifies. It must be a side effect. Of the drink not the man. But when you feel yourself transcending the moment, the way your soul feels like it is literally floating above you, you use the out of body experience to take in the man who is causing this pleasure. The way he cages you in, bracing you through the storm of your orgasm, giving more and more to keep the flame burning as long as possible.

His muscles ultimately seize sometime around when your soul seems to sink back into your body and you’re one again enough with your senses that you can feel him paint your walls with sticky, hot cum. He doesn’t drop his weight on you like other men have after the completion of such exertions. Other men who had focused more on the destination than the journey, leaving you as wanting for release as you were wanting for air under the pressure of their body weight. Instead, Poe pulls you of you and flops to his back in the grass beside you. Without him holding you up you crumble down, face pressing into the fabric of your rumpled flight suit instead of the dirt, thanks to Poe.

A few minutes pass, silent except for the sound of your slowing gasps for air. When your breathing evens Poe sits up on his haunches to guide you back into your flight suit. You’re sticky from sweat and your combined cum, but you couldn’t care less with your bones liquified and your eyelids heavy. Gone is the buzzing ache, in its place a heavy sleepiness. When Poe lays you, now clothed, gingerly back down on the ground you automatically curl into him, allowing him to wrap his arms around your body.

Neither of you shares another word. You don’t have to.

Because shortly after you doze off. And for the first time in a long time your final thoughts before sleep overtakes you are not of the dread the morning will bring, but the solace you found in the night.

~*~

When you wake it’s to a dawn as grey as all the ones before it. Hazy with receding fog and with the promise of all the danger that looms ahead in the hours soon to follow. One of the planet’s suns has already breached the horizon, and you raise a hand to cover your eyes as you peer out from under the x-wing’s protective wing. Looking down you take stock.

Your flight suit is on but fully unzipped, leaving your chest and stomach entirely exposed, all the way down to your lower belly. A large hand covers one of your breasts, fingers twitching against your flesh as the man attached to it continues to dream. You follow the length of his arm to take in his body, tucked close into your own, equally unzipped, his broad torso showing through the gaping fabric. You watch Poe’s abdominal muscles contract with his inhales and exhales for a moment while you check in with your body.

The humming from last night is gone, that much is for certain. This makes you believe that the effects of the drink have worn off. You’re quick to question this hypothesis, however, when Poe stirs in his sleep and his hand squeezes down a bit on your breast. Your breath catches in your throat and fire shoots through your veins. A lingering symptom, you wonder. Or perhaps just a normal, biological reaction to sexual stimuli. You kick yourself mentally because of course it has to be the latter. It couldn’t be the third option which you won’t even allow yourself to fully consider.  

You require a shower urgently, it occurs to you suddenly. And food, a realization that coincides with a rumbling in your empty stomach. Knowing you’ll never have a good enough excuse to extricate yourself from this gorgeous man’s arms you steel your nerves and pull away. When you stand, Poe groans and allows an eye to crack open, his hand flying up to shield his eyes from the rising sun. You’re silhouetted against the dawn and he takes in your outline. The curves of you.

“Morning, Sweets,” he says, voice hoarse with sleep this time instead of sex.

“Morning, Fly Boy,” you reply simply with a small smile. You feel a buzzing in the pocket of your suit then and pull out your mini com unit, even more portable than your usual data pad. The message that blares across the screen and you relay it before Poe can reach his own device which had similarly vibrated.

“We’ve got a new mission. Briefing is in an hour and then we take off.” The information feels stilted as it leaves your lips. How can you feel so entirely, earth-shatteringly changed and yet in many ways everything is still the same. The sun still came up. The war still rages on.

You look down at Poe and his intense expression as he watches you makes you think that he’s wondering the same thing.

Your heart thumps in your chest, this time unaided by any drugged drink or the eyes or hands of a man whose existence seemed both your making and undoing. Routine is the only thing that can calm these nerves. Routine is what is required to survive war. Routine and protocol and boundaries.

You zip up your flight suit with finality.

“See you at the briefing?” you ask, though its more statement than question.

“Of course.” Poe’s response is quiet as he continues to watch you from his reclining position. You’re still above him and at a distance, a position he often associates with you.

You smile and give him a good natured salute before turning and making you way back toward the town where you know the rest of the Resistance members are already bustling about and preparing for the day.

Another day you hope you, and Poe, will be lucky enough to outlive.

~*~

Doing a smaller taglist since it’s a Poe fic and I’m not sure if everyone on my usual taglist is into it (Please let me know if you’d like to be added or removed for future work!): @paper-n-ashes @mariesackler @tlcwrites @foxilayde @mylifeisactuallyamess @sacklerscumrag @jynzandtonic @millenialcatlady @barbers-glimmerin-darlin @hopeamarsu @direnightshade @leather-flannel-liquor @fizzywoohoo @aliveandlonely @wayward-rose @safarigirlsp @emeraldsiren20 @finn-ray-nal-beads @maryforyou @maybe-your-left

#Poe Dameron x reader #Poe Dameron x you #Poe Dameron/reader #Poe Dameron/you #Poe Dameron fanfiction #Poe Dameron smut #smut #writing #The Night that Follows fic #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut #roanniom #tw: alcohol #cw: alcohol #sex pollen #tw: drugged drink #cw: drugged drink #angst #Poe Dameron angst #cw: drugs #tw: unprotected sex

[kissme-hs]

Rules ♡ h.s.

Hey my loves! How’re you all? Here’s a little something based off the following request I’ve had for too long. Would you like a part 2? Let me know what you think! Please re-blog and like if you enjoyed <3 {photo and gif not mine}

Anonymous asked: could u do a Dom!harry smut where he’s really rough and strict in bed? Plzz I love ur writing ❤️

Pairing: Harry Styles x Fem! Reader

Word count: 3.2K

Warning: 18+ Smut, Degradation, Unprotected sex, slight mention of BDSM, oral sex fem recieves and gives, use of filthy language etc. {PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE NOT COMFORTABLE WITH DOM-SUB fics}

                ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Softy, a complete whole soft person Harry was viewed as by the entire world. A guy who loves wearing nail polish and dresses and is nothing but a complete sweetheart. A man, in fact, a man child. In the eyes of million he was a sweet, laid back English lad who wouldn’t dare to hurt a fly.

However, some knew he owned a pair of Gucci handcuffs, the shiny metal made thousands of girls and guys wonder if he actually uses them and the answer is they don’t know. He has never been a man to speak openly about his personal life and just like the rest he let the audience to allow their minds to wander in the oblivion of their thoughts of what he prefers in bed. Or how he is in bed.

All they could do is assume. They assumed he’s rough, maybe soft, or maybe enjoys role play?

No one knows really. Except you.

The only person who has seen his deepest and darkest fantasies. The only person who has ever signed the paper of agreement between you two, you agreeing on being his sub­­, i.e. submissive. Giving him the permission to have his way with you, be it rough, soft or a role play. Whatever it may be, you said yes. The terms and conditions did scare you. The words printed on the piece of paper came off too strong that lied on your lap the night you’re eyes were scanning it, mind finally synching with your wants, deciding it was time you sign the agreement.

*This is a confidential agreement. Submissive is not allow to talk about it to anyone else but the Dom.*

Submissive agrees to obey whatever Dom orders them to do, sexually.

Safe word to be used by submissive is “peach”, if the boundaries are being pushed, the word to be used is “red”.

Honestly, it would scare anybody who reads the further details listed in the contract and what activities Dom would like themselves and the sub to immerge into such as extreme sex toys, being tied up by ropes, fisting and other terms that you didn’t even know the meaning of. But Harry wasn’t doing it just for himself, but for you.

When the day your ex left without a note you found yourself crying in his arms, sobbing and clutching his t-shirt like a broken kid and it hurt him. So he suggested, he was well aware how you wouldn’t be able to go out with anyone after what has happened so why not help you take your mind off him? Nodding to his words, not knowing what was coming you went home and the next morning you saw an envelope on your porch.

And there lied the papers. Submissive-Dom agreement.

“What is this Harry?” You breathed out in fear as your eyes scanned the words and brain figured out what it meant.

“You know it’s not a bad thing, it’ll help you clear your mind”

“Bu-“

“Trust me, plus we don’t have to do what you don’t want to.”

“I don’t know Harry”

“Do you trust me?”

“I do”

“good”

“Do you trust me?” You said biting your lip as you scrunched the bottom of the paper.

“I do”

“Why the agreement then?”

“Its for your own good” and with that the line went dead leaving you in complete confusion. Even though your mind had untangled thoughts and questions clashing together, not thinking twice your fingers grabbed the pen and in a messy rush glided over the rough paper sealing the secret.

And so it began. He invited you over to his place in LA. The house where you’ve been many times but that was when you were friends, you still are but things changed. Quite a lot. His hand held yours as he guided you to the hallway where you never went or even were aware that existed.

Walking a couple more steps you both were standing in front of the huge door. Comparatively bigger than the other he had in his house.

“Stay here” he said as he lets go of your hand and takes a step forward to unlock the door for which he had the key in his necklace. Yes his necklace, a master of disguise.

The second you heard the twisting of the key opening the big door he stepped aside for you to enter the room. Your heart racing with anticipation as you waited for the lights to reveal what he’s had hidden in this room, away from the eyes of the world, away from you.

His fingers flicked the switch and the you saw it. The big red room with a huge bed in the middle, it was surrounded by leashes, leather whips, ropes and the ceiling was nothing but a huge mirror that reflected every move of yours.

Walking down the shiny black floor your hand brushed again the walls that seems so cushiony as you turned your head to look at harry who was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed with a smirk adorning his face.

“Sound proof.” He said as you nodded and continued looking around. Your fingers touched the cold leather whips and slides across the teak wooden drawer. Turning your head one more time to get his approval which he gladly gave, your hand held the handle to pull out the drawer.

There lied several silk blind folds. So rich and expensive. Moving to the next drawer, lied about 50 hand ties, and hand cuffs. Metal, clothed, you name it he has it. And then the last drawer hitched your breath, vibrators, butt plugs, dildos and every other toy you saw in porn.

“I-I never knew you were into this” you whispered as you let your fingers ghost over the silk ties that lied in a perfect fold in the drawer.

“Now you do” you heard his message getting closer to you until his front was pressed against your back. You feel his crotch right up against your ass as he gently, yet with a slight force pushed your front againt the drawer so that you were slightly bent. His hand making it’s from your stomach dragging up all the way up until it found the base of your neck.

The cold metal of his rings felt hot against your skin as he pushed your head back and leaned in closer to your ear. His breath fanning over the love making you shiver.

“Now what’re the rules?”

“I-I call you sir” you breathed out the words as his Kept his hand on your neck giving it a light squeeze telling you to go on, go on with the rules listed in the contract.

“I cannot touch you or myself. I-I respond with words. I-“

“You what?”

“I address myself as your whore”

“That’s correct. You are my filthy little whore. Aren’t you?” He said. His voice deeper than you’ve ever before. And his hand that once held your neck now moved to your side turning you around in a one swift motion. His lips wasting no time to latch onto yours, kissing hungrily as if he’s been dying to kiss you.

And god he has been. Ever since he held your hand walking down the corridor he’s been thinking about having you his way, just like he wants. Kiss those lips and have a taste of thag body is all that has been on his mind since you signed those papers he sent.

Lost in the kiss, deep in your thoughts you were enjoying the feeling of his lips on yours and the rules fading away from your mind. It’s hard to control and stay in the boundaries he’s created when his tongue is inside your mouth dancing along yours, so you let your fingers get lost in those curls as your bite his lower lip.

But to your surprise his reflexes were quick enough to have your hand removed from his hair and twist it and hold it behind your back in a one swift motion.

“One kiss and you’re already breaking the rules. You’re lucky I’m not going to punish you, this is your first and last time.” He groaned before he grabbed you and threw over his shoulder. His hand hving your ass a tight slap before he throws you over the big bed that was situated in the middle on the big room.

Your eyes flickering open to see your own reflection in the mirror that was on the ceiling. Your lips swollen, shirt collected right below your breat revealing your bare skin of the stomach and chest rising with every deep breath you took.

“Now listen to me, you’re gonna look at yourself in the mirror and tell me every single rule listed in the contract. One wrong rule and you lose the chance to cum. Understood?” Harry said as he unbuttoned your jeans pulling it down your legs and stopping right before taking them out when he didn’t hear you reply.

“I asked you something” he raised his eyebrow as one of he held your ankles towards behind your knees over so he could see the cheeks of your ass before giving you another spank.

“Y-yes sir,”

“Yes sir what?”

“Yes sir, understood”

Mumbling a low ‘good girl’ he took off your pants and then sat on you with legs either side your waist to take your top off, his mouth watered when he saw your nipple coming out of your back bra which probably happened when he threw you on the bed.

“Jesus. So full” he muttered before holding your hand over your head and lower his mouth on your nipple, his other hand pushing the cups down so that he could take the whole bud in his mouth and suckle on it making your arch your back. His mouth felt so warm on your cold bud as his tongue flicked the pebble hard nipple around and his bite it slightly before letting it go with a slight pop.

Grabbing a silk tie from the side drawer he tied it around your wrist that he had held in his hand and unhooked the bra—rolling it along the lilc tee that you wore until it reached your eyes and acted as a blindfold.

“Start the rules. Remember, one wrong rule and you lose the chance to cum”

“Yes sir”

“Start” he ordered. And you opened your mouth to let the words out but your breath sucked in when you felt him throwing your legs on his shoulder and his lips coming in contact with your inner thigh.

“I-I don’t sleep with someone else.”

“Cannot”

“Sorry sir, I cannot sleep with someone else”

His lips licked over your drenched knickers that covered your throbbing clit waiting for be touched his tongue. You clenched your thighs together only to be pushed apart by his hands as his nose rubbed over your clothed centre, sniffing, taking the smell of your aroma.

“I cum only when you say” you bite your lip feeling the cotton materiel of your underwear being pushed aside, sensing the cold air of the room mixed with Harry’s warm breath fanning over your sex making your shiver and you shrieked when his four fingers slapped your cunt making the wet filthy sound which only made you drop more.

“Only when I order, looks like you didn’t read it properly you little slut. Lost a chance to feel my tongue on this little pussy of yours”

“I’m sorry sir, please”

“Please what?”

“Please forgive me and eat me out”

“And what are you?”

“I’m your filthy little slut, your whore. Please eat me out sir please” you whimpered as you pleaded harry dying to feel that muscular tongue on your pussy to finally see how it feels like to have his mouth on you which you’ve always dreamt of. Even though you were in a relationship, there always has been a sexual tension between you two which is the reason why you agreed on doing this at the first place.

“That’s right, you’re a whore. A little dirty whore.” And with that you felt his tongue lick a long stride of your lips pushing them open. That one lick was enough to make you squirm, what a shame you couldn’t see his face tucked between your legs as his chain dangles from his neck and gives your a perfect view of his chest from the black shirt he wore, unbuttoned enough for you to see his butterfly tattoo to the slightest.

“Who told you to stop, say the rules doll”

“I see you at least twice a week when you’re in town”

His mouth was now on your clit, sucking it like a leech. His lips left the bundle of nerve with a pop as his hand came in to rub it harshly, before his index finger collected your juices that dripped down your hole and you heard him licked it clean and without any word you feel your opening being stretched to the fullest when he inserted two fingers.

His mouth finding its way back to your clit, licking and sucking your pussy without any mercy. Your hips bucked up in his mouth which he roughly pinned down.

“If I see you doing that once more I swear to god you’ll forget how to walk you slut” he said through gritted teeth as if you interrupted his meal. He shook his head keeping his lips on your clit to give those toe curling vibrations with his fingers twisting inside you.

He felt your soft walls clenching as he let go of your swollen clit to take his fingers out and slide his tongue inside you feeling the warmth against his tongue.

He spread your legs open as he pushed his tongue in and out, tongue-fucking you savouring every drop you released.

“I only wear red and black lingerie when I see you”

His fingers came back in position as his mouth placed itself back on your clit not leaving the swollen bug alone. Your back now covered in sweat and your nipple perched up, mouth dry and pussy waiting to release.

“Wrong. You only wear red around me.”

And with that he flipped you over so that you were lying on your stomach and your ass was up in the air. Withing another second you felt a tight spank against your ass cheek making you hiss in pain.

“That’s what you get for being a dumb whore”

“Sorry sir”

Followed by another spank he pushed you back to him so that he could press his bulge to your arse.

“Grind. Grind like the little road slut you are” he gripped your ass so firmly that you could feel his metal rings digging in your skin as he held them strong in front of his crotch.

As you tried to held yourself up on your elbow he pressed your head down on the bed so that your cheek was squished against the soft cushion.

“Grind i said”

Obliging to his command your moved your ass up his all rock hard cock that you felt tight against your butt cheeks making you moan. Moving your ass in rounds and different directions you felt him buck further into your hips wanting for a release as his hands came in to grip your hair that fell down your shoulder.

Wrapping the long locks around his hand in a fist his he pushed your head back to that your tee which was covering your eyes now came down hanging around your neck which was strained because of his grip on your hair.

“I’m gonna fuck the shut outta you, gonna destroy that little cunt of yours and make you scream until you the only name you remember is mine and forget that asshole who made you cry” and that’s how your first night ended as a submissive after being raw dogged to the fullest with the rough hand prints laying on your ass cheeks.

 But that was just the beginning, so when one day you found yourself on your knees in the bathroom of a posh restaurant that Harry insisted to take you to you weren’t surprised.

You mouth dripping saliva as he held your face in one hand keeping it upwards so he will have a full view of your mouth which was sucking on his thick sick. Lips wrapped around his shaft you gagged when he bucked his hips further in your mouth hitting the back of your throat making it impossible for you to take him any deeper.

“Jesus fucking christ you little cunt” he moaned grabbing your mouth so he could move your head to his liking. Following his movements, you bobbed your head hold the base of his cock, twisting your hand around his with the faint wrist while you suckled with hollow cheeks.

It all started when he saw you arrive at the restaurant. Wearing a tight black dress that hugged your curves and gave all men a delicious view of your plunging breasts making the jaws drop.

“Meet me in the bathroom, right now”

“But wh-“

“Do as told”

And when you did you felt him grab you by your hair and push you against the counter so that your stomach was against the cold marble top while your ass was facing him which he wasted no second uncovering, lifting the almost sheer clothing and pushing it over your waist to reveal your unclothed bottom.

“fucking whore”

Your body flinched with pleasure disguised In pain as he raised his hand and slapped it across your cheeks looking at you straight through the mirror. His hand gripping your hair.

“Look at me” he ordered and you flickered your eyes open to see his dilated pupil and heavy breathing chest. His ring cladded slender fingers didn’t stop spanking shaking your whole body up until he pulled you back and pushed you down on your knees and stepped in front of you with his dick out and slapped it across your face.

“Open” he said holding his hard dick from the base and you did as told. Soon you felt it heavy on the tongue as he patted it on your tongue before pulling away, grabbing your cheeks and pulling your face upwards to him. His fingers wasted no time squishing your cheeks so that your mouth was open slightly giving him the perfect angel so spit in your mouth making you gasp.

“Swallow” and once again you do as told before grabbing his dick and kitten licking his tip, teasing him. But he wasn’t having it so grabbing the back of your head he pushed your head forward until his shaft was hitting the back of you had making your gag, your eyes picking up instant tears and he would’ve stopped right away if they were tears of pain, but they weren’t.

“this is what you get for breaking the rule of not wearing revealing clothes until I ask you to. Get treated like a slut, a fucking filthy whore in the public sucking my dick” he groaned as you played with his ball bobbing your hand.

His grip on your hair tightened before you felt his hot cum gushing down your throat which your swallowed without his order and let go of his cock with a ‘pop’.

Pulling your face up to him he swiped his thumb over your bottom lip collecting the escaping cum and pushing it in your mouth which you happily took sucking on his thumb.

“Be a good girl, and follow the rules”

#aghhh #what do you think? #let me know #harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles writings #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles blurbs #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfiction #hs #hstyles

[iwaslut]

— 𝖌𝖑𝖚𝖙𝖙𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖚𝖘

this is my piece for @karasunosimp’s “it’s raining milk” collab!! this is my first time ever participating in a collab, so thank you for letting me join <3

milf!sasha braus

fem!reader, nsfw content, large age gap, wlw, oral sex.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ♡ 18+ CONTENT

Your job as a babysitter had quite a few perks.

One: The pay is good. You were rather reluctant to resort to babysitting as a part-time job but, desperate times call for desperate measures, especially when you’re trying to earn some form of income while putting yourself through your last year of University. So you were pleasantly surprised when you had been offered more than you normally would be compensated when babysitting.

Two: The kid you babysit, Kaya, is an absolute angel. Due to her rather withdrawn nature, Kaya typically keeps herself busy by quietly reading in her room or watching the television in the living room. As time has passed and Kaya’s slowly become accustomed to your presence, she no longer seems as apprehensive to interact with you as she once was. It’s obvious to you that she’s a good kid. Although she’d rather keep to herself, she’s always polite when you converse and sometimes she’ll even ask if you want to join her and watch a show together. She has pretty good taste in shows, you think as you watch “The Winx Club” together.

Three: Miss Braus is one of the hottest fucking women you’ve seen in your life. She looks fucking incredible for a woman her age and you were honestly shocked to learn that she’s as old as she is. Whenever you interact with the woman, you have to physically restrain yourself from allowing your eyes to lower; her shirts are always exceptionally tight, clinging like a second-skin to her tits. It’s only when she turns around to leave through the front door that you let yourself check out the older woman. She has a damn nice ass.

“Hello, Miss Braus.” With your tote bag resting on your shoulder, you step inside of the home as the brunette warmly ushers you in.

“Miss Braus makes me feel old. How many times do I have to tell you that Sasha will do just fine, sweetheart?” She complains, playfully scolding you as you slip off your sneakers by the entrance of the door. Her hands are firmly placed on the curve of her hips when you lift your head to offer her a sheepish grin.

“Sorry, Mi—Sorry, Sasha. Force of habit, I guess.” You bring up one hand to rub at the back of your neck, brows lightly pinching together when you survey the space to see Kaya nowhere in sight. “Eh, pardon me, Sasha, but where’s Kaya at?”

Although you’re well aware of how reserved her daughter is, you’ve come to expect Kaya to be curled up on the couch reading a novel whenever you come over to babysit her. You guys have fallen into the habit where you’ll cook her lunch as soon as you arrive while she reads nearby so it’s rather unusual that the blonde girl is nowhere to be seen.

“She’s at her father’s house for the day.” For a brief moment, the brunette’s expression pinches up: distaste for the blond man made evident on her face. You don’t know too much about Sasha’s ex-husband, just that he’s some renowned chef that frequently travels a lot. Niccolo is his name if you recall correctly. It’s not your place to pry so you choose to not ask any questions regarding the matter and listen when Sasha slips little tidbits of information regarding her ex-husband.

Wait. What?

“Kaya’s not here?” If Kaya’s not here then why were you still scheduled to babysit today?

You’re drawn out of your train of thought when Sasha places a gentle hand on your shoulder. You startle at the little amount of space in between the two of you.

“Nope!” She cheerfully exclaims as she slips your bag off of your shoulders. You’re left in a stupor, wondering what the fuck is going on, but you shake it off and follow Sasha, who has turned around and is now making her way in the direction of the kitchen.

“I thought we could chat today!” Her back is turned towards you as you take a seat at one of the bar stools at the kitchen counter. She floats around the kitchen, grabbing items from the fridge and cabinets. Your eyes glue themselves to the thin sliver of skin that appears when Sasha’s shirt rides up as she reaches for something in one of the upper cabinets.

“O-oh, okay.” This turn of events is rather strange, but you’re not complaining. Sasha’s a really wonderful conversationalist: the conversation flows naturally between you two and you’re always left in stitches at the jokes she cracks. Also, you get the opportunity to openly ogle her with her back facing you as she cooks something on the stove. You’re not going to pass up on an opportunity like this.

“I’m making us some lunch, but it’s going to take some time to cook.” You’re knocked out of your reverie once again and quickly avert your gaze from Sasha’s ass to meet her eyes. You desperately hope you were fast enough that she didn’t catch you. Her expression doesn’t give anything away so you think you’re good.

“Sounds good to me! Thank you so much for making lunch.” Your mouth waters at the thought of eating Sasha’s cooking. Although you’ve never tried it, Kaya’s always boasted about how her parents are both great cooks. You’re looking forward to trying her food since Kaya speaks so highly of it.

“Of course, honey! It’s no issue especially for such a sweet girl.” Your thighs automatically squeeze together. You mentally thank a higher being that the counter hides your lower half because that would be painfully embarrassing for you if your employer saw how turned on they made you by uttering only two words.

You watch as Sasha floats around the kitchen, grabbing some more ingredients from the fridge and different cabinets before tossing them all together on the stove to simmer. You fidget in your seat, never one who was good at sitting still with nothing to occupy your attention. You feel that it would be rude for you to pull out your phone and scroll through social media in Sasha’s presence.

“There we go! Now we just have to let this simmer for a while,” she exclaims, turning around to face you and clapping her hands together. A pretty smile graces her face and her features light up when you return it with a grin of your own.

“Since it's going to take some time, how about we get comfy?”

Sasha pats the seat next to her on the couch, prompting you to slip out of the stool you’re sitting on to join her. You make sure to maintain a respectable distance that Sasha effectively destroys when she scoots closer to you until your knees are brushing against one another’s. The lack of space between you two makes you more nervous than you’d like to admit, but you don’t move from your spot.

The air is stolen straight out of your lungs when Sasha places a delicate hand on your knee.

“You know, you’re not really discreet when you’re checking me out, honey,” Sasha notes.

“Huh—what?” It takes your brain a moment to process what Sasha’s said, especially as her hand steadily inches up your thigh. Once you realize what she’s said, embarrassment crashes over you in a cold wave.

“Oh my god, I am so so so sorry Miss Braus. Please forgive—.”

Your words die out when Sasha places the hand that’s not on your thigh on your cheek, forcing you to look her way.

“You talk too much, sweetheart,” Sasha affectionately chides before she presses her lips to yours, effectively shutting you up in the process. You’re frozen still for a moment. Is this actually fucking happening? When you feel Sasha move her lips against yours, you realize that yes, this is, in fact, fucking happening.

Any of your prior hesitations is thrown out the window when you feel Sasha’s hands slip underneath the hem of your t-shirt. Your tongue traces the seam of her lips before Sasha parts them, letting you in. Your hands rest on her hips, urging and guiding her to seat herself on top of your lap.

You smile against her lips as a startled gasp leaves them when you firmly squeeze her ass.

“Too much clothing,” she rasps out while pulling her shirt over her head. You’re quick to follow suit and tug your own t-shirt off just in time to watch Sasha unclasp her bra. Her breasts spill out from underneath the constraining fabric and jiggle before settling against her chest.

As much as you want to lean forward and lather her tits in attention, you’re eager to switch the position you’re currently in. Sasha’s back hits the couch’s cushions with a quiet thump as your frame leers above her.

Her eyes widen in brief surprise at the action, but Sasha’s not granted much time to think when you swoop down to kiss her again. It’s sloppier this time around. You have no clue when, or if, you’ll ever get this chance again and you’re determined to make the most of it. You want to ingrain the taste of Sasha into your brain.

Her hands tangle together behind your neck when you begin your descent down her body. You lick the bead of sweat trailing down the column of her neck and gently nip at the skin there. Not hard enough to make any marks, but just hard enough to elicit a gasp from Sasha.

“Fuck. Just like that.”

She throws her head back when you swirl your tongue around the hardened bud of her nipple while your fingers roll her other one. You lavish her tits in attention, sucking and nipping at them until blood rushes to the surface of her skin. When you lean back, you mentally pat yourself on the back. Her tits are a mess, covered in hickies of varying sizes.

You pepper kisses to her stomach, relishing in how soft and plush her skin is, before tossing her legs over your shoulders.

“You look so good like this, Sasha. So pretty and desperate for me to eat you out,” you coo. You hook your arms underneath her thighs, grabbing fistfuls of the fat of her ass until she’s positioned in a way you like.

“Hurry up and put your mouth on me already.” She tightens her thighs around your head and digs her heels into your back, urging you to get on with it already. If this was any other situation, you’d draw it out a little longer until Sasha was on the verge of tears and begging you to eat her out, but you’re feeling impatient. You can’t lie and say you’re not eager to have a taste of her.

Before Sasha can complain at how long you’re taking, you dive in. A startled moan tears its way out of her throat when you lick a long, deep stripe along her dripping slit. You lap at her cunt like a woman starved, devouring her whole. You circle her clit with your tongue before latching onto it.

“Shit. I’m so close. You’re doing s’good.”

Her back arches off of the sofa as her hands bury themselves into your hair. She digs the blunt edges of her nails into your scalp and the slight splintering pain has you moaning into her cunt.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Shit! I’m cumming.”

She sharply digs her heels into the muscle of your upper back and she cums with a loud cry. You hold her in place as she convulses, bucking her hips wildly as she rides out her orgasm. You gently suckle on her clit and run your tongue through her folds until she’s whimpering.

The incessant beeping of the timer that Sasha had previously set startles the two of you. From in between her thighs, you stare up at her with a crooked grin. A mixture of her juices and cum coats your lips and chin. Her eyes dart to the pink of your tongue when you lick your lips clean. You use the back of your hand to wipe your chin, which only serves to smear the liquid more.

“Thanks for the dessert, Sasha. I’m looking forward to tasting your cooking now.”

#attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #attack on titan smut #aot smut #sasha braus x reader #sasha blouse x reader #sasha braus smut #sasha blouse smut #celeste.scribs #drip #tw fem reader #tw age gap #tw milfs #tw wlw #drip.aot

[cosmicjoke]

Geeze, I really hate fandom sometimes.  I just stumbled on to a blog which was laying some serious hate on Levi and his final arc in SnK, going so far as to call him a clown for being unable to kill Zeke until Zeke “let him”, and calling Zeke the hero for saving all of their sorry asses.  I just... can’t stand this kind of stuff.  It’s like these people want to spew their own negative feelings onto everyone else and suck all the joy straight out of any fandom.  Why shit on a character like Levi like that?  I don’t get it.  He’s such an obviously good person.  Whether you think he didn’t always make the right choices or not, it doesn’t matter, because his intent was always in the right place.  He was always trying to do what was best for the most people.  Mocking him for that by calling him a clown honestly upsets me. It’s so unfair, even cruel to say something like that.

You know, I think it’s fine to have sympathy for Zeke.  I do.  But to sympathize with Zeke OVER Levi, to denounce Levi and his treatment of Zeke because Zeke had a shitty childhood, seems so wrongfooted to me.  Zeke’s childhood experiences were shitty, yeah.  But so were Levi’s.  And don’t try and tell me Zeke’s childhood was worse than Levi’s.  He wasn’t alone.  He had Mr. Xaver, who showed him kindness and attention.  Levi had his mother for a time, sure, and then he had Kenny, but both of them left him when he was still extremely young, and he was forced to survive in a world of violence and poverty for probably the next 15 years of his life.  Not to mention having to grow up in a brothel where he had to watch his mother being sold for sex in order for them to survive, and still, they were on the brink of constant starvation.  And yet, Zeke’s experiences turned him cruel and perverse, reveling in the pain and suffering of others, and Levi, in SPITE of his experiences, turned out to be the most compassionate and caring character in all of SnK.  

Zeke had in him an absurd god-complex in which he felt he had the right to decide for everyone else what their lives were worth, and that determination of his was that their lives were worth nothing.  Why?  Because he felt his own life was worth nothing.  Because his felt his own existence to be meaningless, he decided that everyone else’ lives must be meaningless too, and that this enlightened understanding on his part then gave him the right to decide they shouldn’t be born at all.  That it gave him the right to take away their chance at life, regardless of whether those lives might have been good or bad, regardless of whether or not those unborn people might have themselves felt their lives were worth while.  He installed himself as the person who gets to determine the value of those lives, the value in being born, all based on his own experiences in life, as if he was the be all and end all of the human experience and the human condition.  This is the most self-centered, egotistical, self-aggrandizing behavior I can imagine from ANYONE.  I don’t care how shitty your life was.  You don’t get to decide what other people’s lives are worth, you don’t get to decide whether other people’s lives have meaning or not just because you feel like your own is worthless.  You don’t have a right to that kind of power, or control over other people’s lives.  You don’t get to make such an absolute statement about anyone but yourself.  Fuck that.  Fuck Zeke for thinking that.  For deluding himself into thinking he was doing anyone a favor by taking away their chance to live.  

And yet, here’s Levi, who has the exact opposite views, despite having grown up in extreme poverty and desperation and violence.  Levi doesn’t try to control anybody, or tell anybody what they should and shouldn’t do.  He tells everyone they have to decide for themselves, they have to make whatever choice they think is the one they’ll least regret.  He doesn’t try and tell anyone what their lives are worth, or how they should feel about their lives, or try to convince anyone that their lives are worthless because life is hard and painful.  He doesn’t try to tell anyone that their lives are meaningless because they suffer.  He does the exact opposite, trying desperately to lend meaning to the lives of those who have suffered and sacrificed.  He just literally wants to give people a chance to survive and thrive and have a chance at life period.  He wants as many people to live as possible, to experience a life without fear, or the agony of uncertainty.  That’s all Levi wants.  Nothing for himself.  He just wants humanity to go on and to have a better quality of life.

I just... really don’t understand the hatred I see for Levi, particularly in relation to Zeke.  Look at everything that Zeke did to Levi.  Look at everything Zeke took from Levi.  It wasn’t just that he murdered so many of Levi’s friends and fellow soldiers without any apparent remorse, it’s that he mocked Levi over it, acted purposefully glib about what he’d done, patronized and prodded Levi over it, pretending like he didn’t understand Levi’s anger and hatred towards him, essentially sending Levi the message that he didn’t think Levi had any reason or right to be upset over what Zeke had done, sending Levi the message that his pain didn’t matter, or wasn’t important, before forcing Levi into a position where he had to kill 30 of his comrades, causing him untold amounts of trauma and emotional distress.

I’m just so sick of this.  I really am.  It sucks.  Levi doesn’t deserve to be talked about like that.  I don’t understand how people can’t see that.  Why do they have to be so purposefully obtuse?  Is it just to upset other people?  It’s like Levi himself said, when he asked his fallen comrades why they’d fought in the first place, asking if it was to trample the hopes and dreams of everyone else.  And of course he knew no, that wasn’t why.  They fought because they dreamed of a better world.  Even if that dream was naive and unrealistic, they still fought for it.  I just feel like, if you’re hating on Levi, you’ve got some serious issues of your own, feelings of bitterness and anger and negativity.  I think you’re just overwhelmingly cynical.  

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #Levi Ackerman

[hepalien]

Shrunkyclunks (Modern Bucky/Cap Steve) Fic Rec

Hate Sex & Hair Protocol by @maddiewritesstucky - Mature, 1.8k

SHIELD Agent Bucky, UST, Enemies to Lovers (in Steve’s head), Humor

They’re all full of shit, Steve decides.

His team don’t have a clue what they’re talking about, running their mouths about the way he and Bucky look at each other; the tension that seems to be at a constant near-snapping point between them.

'It’s called annoyance' Steve wants to yell in each of their faces, loud and one by one. It’s the pain of having to exist every day in close proximity with someone who drives you out of your fucking mind.

---

In which Steve discovers that ire and desire may just exist side by side in his brain.

Stop interrupting my grinding series by @rohkeutta - Teen, 2.5k

Nurse Bucky, Wrong Number, Fluff, Humor

“I tried to call Sam,” Captain America says, bewildered. He’s sprinting like Usain Bolt and doesn’t sound even a little out of breath. Fucker. “Who’re you?”

“Someone who’s watching you live on TV,” Bucky tells him as the tiny patriotic figure on the screen takes the turns like he instructed. Bucky should probably be a lot more freaked out about this, but honestly? After a tour in the Middle East and six years as a nurse in New York, even this isn’t enough to ruffle him. One sees a lot of shit in the ER. “Also, you better hang up now, that thing is behind the next bend.”

“Uh, okay,” Captain America says. “Thanks?”

“Whatever,” Bucky says, disconnects the call and turns the TV off to get ready for his shift.

Save a Horse, Ride a Captain by @galwednesday - Teen, 2.7k

War Vet Bucky, Meet Cute, Fluff, Humor, Modern Howlies

Bucky tapped him on the shoulder, swaying back and forth a little as he waited for the man to turn around. “Hello,” he said, and then promptly forgot what else he was going to say, because this guy was fucking beautiful. “Wow. Good face.”

Two of the guy’s friends, a man wearing a suit that fit so well it had to be bespoke and a man with a cute little gap between his front teeth, started cracking up. The petite redhead sitting next to them cocked her head to the side and pulled her phone out of her handbag. Beautiful Face just looked kind of pained, so Bucky redirected. He was a gentleman. He could take a hint. No hitting on beautiful guys who were uncomfortable with that sort of thing, no matter how lickable their jawlines were.

“Hello,” he repeated, doing his best to mind his manners. “I’m very sorry to bother you. Can I have a piggy-back ride?”

You Make My Heart Skip A Beet by @musette22 - Teen, 3.8k

Chef Bucky, POV Outsider, Fluff, Humor

“I made soda bread.”

Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.”

The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”

more under the cut

Cafe Au Écoute by @littlesystems - Teen, 3.8k

Coffee Shop AU

No matter where Steve goes, there's always the chance that he'll overhear a conversation about himself - or rather, Captain America. This coffee shop is no different. The fact that he keeps eavesdropping well past the point of plausible deniability is another matter entirely.

#TweetMeDaddy by StarSpangled - Teen, 4.1k

SHIELD Employee Bucky, Misunderstandings, Crack, Humor

Coulson, for his part, stares up at Bucky with such a betrayed look of frozen horror that Natasha actually goes the extra step and presses another button, capturing the moment and airdropping the photograph to her phone for posterity. When he speaks, his voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Why…?” He swallows and starts again, trying for some semblance of normality. “...Why would you tweet something like that?!”

“If you must know, sir,” and somehow he manages to make ‘sir’ come out with the same inflection most people reserve for ‘motherfucking son of a bitch’, “it’s because I have a difficult time doing my job when my job involves monitoring the man with the best fucking ass in the United States of America.” He slowly lowers himself back into his seat until he’s at eye level, making extreme eye contact with Coulson until Coulson turns away to make mortified eye contact in Natasha’s general direction through the one-way glass. Natasha would take another picture, if she weren’t too busy catching Steve’s red-faced sputtering. “Sometimes, I vent to my Twitter followers. Sometimes, it’s about hot men with washboard abs. Can I go now, or do you need a graphic description of how I pleasure myself at night?”

at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by @spacebuck - Explicit, 8.2k

YouTuber Bucky

This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.

Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.

He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.

Bucky Barnes.

OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny

Came with my cool (I dropped it) by @liionne - Teen, 9.2k

Yoga Instructor Bucky

"When you said I need to loosen up, I didn't think you meant literally."

"I meant it every way. Mentally, emotionally, and physically." Natasha says, and thrusts a yoga mat at him.

there once was a diamond by bloobeary - Teen, 11.3k

Fluff, Thanksgiving

"You," Becca seethes, and hits him with a wooden spoon. "Could have told me," Hits him again. "You were dating Captain America." Final hit, Bucky laughs. He supposes he deserves it, giving her no more information than the fact he was bringing his boyfriend to Thanksgiving dinner at her house and then showing up with Steve.

Salt by littleblackfox @thelittleblackfox - Mature, 12k

Bakery AU

The cinnamon roll is gone in four bites. Four indecent, jaw-unhinging bites, and Steve sucks the last traces of lemon and icing from his fingers with a low, throaty sound of satisfaction. He glances up at Bucky, who is leaning against the counter and watching him with avid fascination.

“Um…” Steve says around his index finger. There’s still a little icing on the bed of his fingernail, and he stops trying to work it off with his tongue.

“You know those movies where the girl eats an eclair or something, and it’s really, like, sexually charged?” Bucky asks.

Steve pulls his finger out of his mouth. He’s never seen that kind of movie, but the thought of Bucky eating an eclair is certainly… well, it lingers. “Uh?”

“Yeah, well that was the exact opposite.” Steve scowls, and Bucky cackles gleefully. “You are something else, Steve.”

Leg Day by Brokenpitchpipe - Explicit, 12.1k

Gym Thot Bucky

“So talk to him,” Sam says.

“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”

“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."

(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)

Art Nouveau by voluptuous_panic - Explicit, 12.2k

Bartender Bucky, Tattooed & Pierced Bucky

Steve's on the worst date of his life. At least the bartender's cute.

much tattoo about nothing by @deisderium - Explicit, 14.5k

Tattoo Artist Bucky

Steve Rogers gets a lot of email requests, but never one like this: James Barnes wants to use his healing factor to practice tattoos.

Turns out tattoos give Steve boners.

No Wonder There's Panic in the Industry by sprinkle_of_cinnamon - Not Rated (I’d say Mature?), 20.5k

Stark Industries Intern Bucky, Team fic, Humor

In which Bucky Barnes and his BFF, Clint Barton, are NYU interns for Stark Media Group competing to be Pepper's favorite.

Or alternatively, the time Bucky assisted the P.A. team on the Steve Rogers piece and ended up (adopted) with a contact list full of Avengers.

Life of the Party by @aggressivewhenstartled - Explicit, 21.6k

Superhero Impersonator Bucky, Mistaken Identity

“You know, kids,” Steve heard from the backyard, “one of the most common threats a superhero has to face is inside an active volcano! We’re going to have to work on your evasion skills, so for the next five minutes, the floor is lava!” This was met by a sudden spike in both volume and pitch from the small children as they scrambled onto every raised surface they could find and immediately launched themselves right back off.

“I’ve never seen actual lava in my entire life,” Steve said, vaguely offended.

“You got a superhero impersonator for The Falcon’s niece’s birthday party,” Sam said, incredulous. “The Falcon, who is an actual superhero.”

Trust Enough by @geneticallydead - Explicit, 23.3k

Misunderstandings

“Saturday. Yeah, that’s good,” Steve says, and actually scuffs his shoe at the ground. Like a ridiculous shy superhero damsel. “Say eight? I live-“

“Yeah, big building with the A on it,” Bucky says, and can’t help a big stupid grin. Steve stares at him, looking a little dazed, and after their whole conversation it’s only now that Bucky’s brain catches up and realises Steve finds him quite attractive. So. Win for Bucky.

“Let me get your number,” Steve says finally, after they’ve stared stupidly at each other for about three hours, taking out his phone.

So they exchange numbers, and then Steve says he should go, and Bucky agrees, and they kind of stare at each other for a bit more, then Steve actually does go, but not before taking Bucky’s hand and squeezing it warmly in a way that makes Bucky want to shiver all over. Then Steve is gone, and Bucky is standing alone in the alley, grinning to himself.

Right up until the moment he remembers that Steve thinks Bucky is an escort he’s just hired.

Well fuck.

The Roommate by layersofart, Niitza - Teen, 28.6k

War Vet Bucky, Roommates AU, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Team fic

In which Steven G. Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, gets a roommate. Who rapidly turns into his "roommate"—in the euphemistic sense of the word.

It takes SHIELD and the rest of the Avengers an absurd amount of time to notice.

Brooklyn Baby by sprinkle_of_cinnamon - Mature, 33.7k

Coffee Shop AU, Modern Howlies, Mistaken Identity, Team Fic

In which Bucky is just trying to live life and enjoy his unofficial official table at the obnoxiously hipster coffee shop but some guy named Steve stole his spot.

Or, the time that Bucky unintentionally befriended the Avengers and had no idea.

Never Talk to Strangers by mambo @whtaft - Teen, 40.4k

Grad Student Bucky, Slow Burn

Never Talk to Strangers: or; How a Forgotten Childhood Lesson Led Bucky Barnes to Appreciate Charlie Chaplin, Befriend an A.I., Slip on Soap Bubbles, Be Mistaken for a Succubus, and Try to Woo a Superhero.

Sinking Our Teeth In The Heart Of The Sun by fallendarlings @pressrestartwrites - Explicit, 102.8k

Single Dad Bucky, Kid Fic, Slow Burn, Domestic, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Steve has Autism

Bucky Barnes never intended to become a single father at 25. But life has always enjoyed kicking him while he's down and it's showing no signs of stopping. A chance meeting with a brick wall of a guy named Steve in the formula aisle of the grocery store leads to a friendship it seems like both of them need. If only Bucky could remember that's all they are- friends. If only Steve didn't slot into their lives so perfectly and look so good spoiling Bucky's daughter (and Bucky, despite his protests).

Oh, if only Steve didn't turn out to be Captain America.

Steve Rogers is wandering around a world that he doesn't fit into, fighting for a government that he doesn't trust, just because he doesn't know what to do with himself if he ever relaxes long enough to actually think about anything other than the next mission.

And then came Bucky Barnes and his newborn baby.

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#stucky #stevebucky #stucky fic #stucky fic rec #shrunkyclunks #stucky fanfic #stucky fanfiction #steve x bucky #my stucky recs #fic tag #mine #fic rec #mcu fic #tumblr ate this the first time [my longest sigh ever] #i read art nouveau for the first time last week and I've been thinking about it ever since