#I can flesh it out without writing a full length fic for now

[maaxverstappen]

I’ve been asking ppl cus im nosy. What’s your writing process like if any? Do u have a preferred place or time. Preferred device. Do u write rough drafts then edit or is it much more considered. How do u decide that an idea is worth fleshing out or pursuing if it looks like it’s plotty. Pls yap at length if u so wish — wiz

i love this question!! and would love to know other answers so if you want to reblog them i shall be on the lookout 👀.

i answered partly here so will just like build on that!!

the process is that i’ll have an idea and depending on how large it is write out some sort of outline. my preference for all planning in life is on paper so i have a little journal that ill write out some ideas in. kind of brainstorm / mind map style of just jotting down random ideas that come to mind.

however, with longer fics like my current post-as-i-go wip i have to do it digital bc so much changes and it’s too long (see pics in previous ask). that one i actually started planning in my notes app on a plane bc the idea had to come out of me someway and i was really excited about it. i then transferred it to a google doc and added onto my chapter per chapter outline (1st pic in previous ask). i felt like that was a bit overwhelming for understanding the overall plot so then i went and made a simple overview of the key plot points per chapter (the 2nd pic in previous ask) just so i felt like i had a better understanding of the goal per chapter.

now when i sit down to write a chapter ill get both the detailed notes and the main plot points and just write whatever i feel like in order to get to the goal of the chapter.

for shorter one shot fics i’ll either have no full outline or a one page idea list kind of thing. for instance, for worth the trouble i knew that it would start and end in the present time and then everything in between would be a flashback, but i didn’t know the flashbacks would be non chronological until i was writing it. same for the chewing gum aspect that ends up being quite an important part of the symbolism and that almost weaves the parts together, that wasn’t a *thing* until i was almost finished with the rough draft and i then went to add it in to previous scenes.

for my long fic i have to be a bit more calculated with the hidden messages/foreshadowing as i can’t go back and edit published chapters lmao so that is a little more thought out + i keep track of loose ends to tie together at some point.

editing is a bit of a harder one. for my long fic my overal editing is per chapter, but i do tend to go back and edit per section too. like right now I’m writing a texting scene and first i wrote the plain texting dialogue, then i went back to add the bits in between from characters’ pov. then i’ll read over it fully and edit where needed. finally when the whole chapter is done ill read over it and edit again, but at that point it’s mainly grammar and punctuation.

my main writing issues i’ve noticed so far is that i tend to switch tenses without realising so that’s something i look out for when editing. i also am always worried they don’t *do* enough so i like to think “hmm what action can i add in here to make them more human” when editing.

so far only worth the trouble has been beta read, the rest i do myself. if I’m stuck i will talk through a lot of it with my partner who will give me some ideas and just like help lmao (she’s also the one that beta read wtt!). but she’s not in the f1 fandom so it’s a little hard to have her beta read for characterisation and specific plot points so i do that myself. like when she beta read wtt she gave a few points of feedback that weren’t too relevant bc the average f1 fic reader would understand (like the significance of spa21, there is no need to explain it).

I’m a baby fic writer so a lot of my process will be redefined and refined as i go I’m sure.

as for deciding what to write, it’s really whatever captures my attention. the prompt for help me hold onto you is one i really liked and a trope i love reading myself. i was also ready to challenge myself to a longer plot fic and i was really excited about the idea so i just went for it! my main consideration is really just how excited i am for it.

i will say that i am currently really struggling with perfectionism / imposter syndrome. I’m having a hard time getting the words onto paper bc it feels like it’ll never be as good as my favourite authors anyway so what’s the point. (which is now also impacting the way i read fics bc it makes me sad that ill never write anything as good as what I’m reading lol)

i generally write on my laptop! in a google doc with grammarly activated and the word count on screen (which pisses me off bc i have to turn it back on after every refresh). i wrote my latest crafty!oscar on my phone (bc i was too excited to wait till i got to my laptop) but wouldn’t ever do that for anything much longer or plot-ier than that.

i fear this has gotten very long. i know u said yap away but …. i perhaps have yapped too close to the sun.

#really liked answering this :-) and the fic writer asks from the weekend too. so fun #she says as she still has unanswered asks from that game in her inbox #anyway #thanks wiz <3 a community gem as always #m answers #about me

[galwithalibrarycard]

Hi, it's me again, I hope I'm not being to much (We really are anxious people, isn't?). We're a small fandon now, but I love how you keep going it, seriously, and it's so nice to have a place to talk about beadick. I just wanna say that I really enjoy your fic about them breaking the rules, I wish we could've seen more of that in LoLiLo. Anyway, could you share some of your headcanons post Lolilo? Also, I was a little bit disappointed with the way "they got together again", I mean, it was so rushed, they barely talk about it, anyway, thanks

Not at all, I’m so happy to keep hearing from you, Anon! 😁 I’m glad to be your place to talk about Beadick, of course! I hope you’re not too anxious!

And thank you so much, I’m so glad you liked the fic! I assume you mean Lovebirds? (There’s also Plausible Deniability and Rules For Thee Broke, though!) Either way I’m proud of how all those fics came out and I had a lot of fun writing them, so I’m thrilled you enjoyed reading whichever one!

I agree, I wish there was more Beadick in lolilo in general, and especially rule-breaking fluff. I don’t think I’ve talked to a beadick shipper yet who doesn’t wish we’d gotten more of a fleshed-out reunion and resolution for them and their plotline. It did feel unsatisfyingly rushed. I think it’s the vlog-style format that limits a lot of what we could’ve gotten, though. There’s so much the characters would never put online, including the full conversation and reconciliation that would’ve happened between Bea and Ben after FEATHERS and the goodbye episode. I wish Lolilo was one of those webseries that’s half vlog style and half traditional omniscient scenes where we’re watching the characters interact when they DON’T have a camera on them in-world. Would’ve changed the whole game.

That being said, I still think we should have gotten at least one getting-back-together kiss in FEATHERS right at the end before Hero comes in. Beadick deserved to have their last onscreen kiss be about their love and how happy they are to be back together, not about Bea tricking Ben into breaking a rule. I will be dying on this hill and I do have a fanfic in the works about it (it’s just very difficult to describe a kiss for any length of time or wax poetic about what the kiss means for them when I know their brains are just a blank and their internal monologues have left the building. Because Big Damn Reunion Kiss.)

As far as my post-lolilo headcanons, I think that Bea and Ben stay in Auckland for however long it takes before Leo’s cancer goes into likely remission or at least to a place where they know he’ll survive. Bea and Ben use that time to be with their families and to work on their relationship and to plan their trip. Ben also uses that time to get a therapist and start figuring out his anxiety (and also what’s probably ADHD worsening his struggles academically- that’s something I can say way less about bc I don’t share that experience but I’ve heard the headcanon from other people and I agree with it.)

After Leo is out of the woods, Bea and Ben embark on their year of travel. It’s life-changing and so much fun and brings them closer together than ever. They’ll talk about it fondly for the rest of their lives, and have plenty of pictures and stories to share about it (and some stories that are just between them).

I think Ben quits vlogging forever. He realizes it’s unhealthy for him, enabling his avoidance of deeper conversation and vulnerability with the real people in his life, and that it’s violating other people’s privacy as well. Instead, I think Ben starts keeping a diary or journal. His therapist suggests it, and he loves it. It’s a way to get his thoughts out of his head in situations where he isn’t ready to talk to people about them in person, without also involving strangers on the internet. It allows him to be honest with himself and not have to put on a front out of fear of being judged. He loves writing, and it turns out to be a great avenue to explore his passion for the universality of storytelling and the way human emotions have been the same for thousands of years. He goes back to school once he’s rested and ready, and writes books of scholarly analyses of Marlowe and other classic plays and stories, and is a Literature teacher at both high school and university levels during his future career.

Bea is a lawyer, a headcanon I believe I adopted from some of the Candle Wasters and Harriett (who plays Bea) talking about that in a behind the scenes somewhere? Anyway, I like that she gets to go to work doing her favorite thing, arguing, and do it better than anyone else. She lets herself have what she wants: her independence AND Ben. And she’s still fierce.

I know most people don’t spend forever with the person they dated at 18, but the beauty of fiction is that I get to say, screw realism. Bea and Ben are one of those very few young couples who make it work long-term. They stay together for the rest of their lives, because even when it’s hard, they always keep choosing each other, choosing to do the work of growing together. They have lives outside of each other, but they’re still each other’s absolute world. One of my favorite things about the Beadick side of the fandom is that we pretty much all believe that’s true. The fans, the creators and actors (when last we heard from them), and arguably Shakespeare himself- all of us think Beadick is forever. You don’t split up two people with matching name-meanings and a romance for the ages. (Of course thinking they don’t last is also valid and I’m not bossing anyone around or saying you can’t be a fan if you think differently- I’m just stating what I’ve seen as being the most popular fanon.) (They are together forever though. To me.)

In my headcanon, they elope when they decide to get married, and they eventually have two kids, two because they both grew up the only child and know how lonely that can be. I think future fic about their family is one of the most frequent requests I’ve gotten when I’ve opened my ask to fic prompts, which is fun. I headcanon that they name their daughter Olivia, and Ben likes to call her Olive (see what I did there? 🫒). Their second kid is a son, who I named James (nicknamed Jamie) in my fic “Twice Blessed”, though I don’t think I have a reason for that one. I really do not mean to keep plugging my fanfics here, it’s just that most of my headcanons are laid out in them already! :)

I like fluff, I like my ships to be happy by the end. So Ben improves his mental health, Bea improves in asking for what she wants and expressing her love more directly, they both work on communication, and they live and bicker and tease and love happily ever after.

I hope you don’t mind that I wrote you a novel here, Anon! I’m so glad you mostly enjoyed lolilo and I’m so glad to talk about it with you. This is so fun for me, so thanks again! 💖😊🦩

#asks tag #beadick anon #long post #otp: team blessed #sorry for clogging your dashes folks #but also no I’m not this was so fun

[merge-conflict]

Since you asked twice: 4, 61, & 66 for the fic writer asks :>

Heheh :3 (questions here)

4. Where do you find inspiration for new ideas?

I ask myself questions. The scope and number of questions depends on the idea. Am I looking to complete a next scene? Why don't I know what the character will do next? Do they need to make a decision, or does something need to motivation to move past an obstacle? Is their struggle internal or external at this moment? Are they at full capacity or are they tired or hurt and more likely to mess up or do something impulsive?

For fic ideas it's just that but broader. Usually I get a snippet of a scene or inspiration from some outside source- either my own life or some other story. Maybe I just think that two characters should meet, or be put in a situation where they have to fight. Maybe Johnny should punch Valentine in the face. Then I just work backwards from there- what kind of pressure would cause them to be angry at each other? If they have an argument can it be exacerbated by some vulnerability or just because they're having a bad day? Because something else happened and now they're on a hair trigger? What would cause them to fight instead of just walk away? And then just sort of reverse engineering the situation from there. It fails a fair amount of the time, but asking the questions themselves helps flesh things out to make it easier to work out ideas for those characters or any characters, so there's never anything lost through brainstorming.

Also honestly sometimes when I can't think of anything or I'm frustrated and want to vent or cry about it... I'll give myself a weird objective. Try a new POV. Keep it a certain length. Change tense. Write about someone without ever saying their name. It also doesn't always work, but concentrating on some new kind of goal often gets me out of the pit I've been languishing in even when it fails.

61. Why do you continue writing fics?

I love doing it, and also I can't really control my brain when it comes up with stories. So they're going to be in my head anyway, and writing them down helps me develop them and enjoy them even more. Obviously I do love and enjoy the community part of writing fanfiction, and getting feedback and engagement. (Love it. Crave it. Don't we all?) But ultimately I just love doing character studies, and constructing scenes and making things. Sometimes I "write" for hours and get very little done but I really enjoy that time, and if that ever changed I wouldn't do it.

66. How do you deal with writing pressure (ie. pressure to update, negative comments, deadlines, etc.)?

I don't think any of those things worry me too much. I do feel bad for not updating regularly sometimes but I hardly do anything regularly. I could keep a habit for 3 months and drop it in 2 days for something new. If I don't like something I'm hitting the bricks. Honestly the biggest struggle I have is that period of time just before and just after sharing a story- it's like as soon as I hit post my self-confidence dives, and by that time I've usually reviewed my own writing so many times that it just looks like garbage. Similar to saying a word over and over until it becomes meaningless and annoying? It's kind of the worst. So far the only solution I've found is to leverage my adhd and distract myself until I'm out of the danger zone. I've also found the more I do it the easier it gets, like exposure therapy. The anxiety poison damage from posting gets a little less now that I know "How It Works (tm)".

I do often get stuck on something (a scene, etc.) but my writing process is really messy and so I will leverage having multiple projects and just sort of tool around through them until I find something I can make progress on. If I have motivation I have to follow it or I'll never do anything so just going with the flow and not getting too hung up on doing things In Order or finishing my writing veggies before my writing dessert. Having little to no executive function means that there are some things that I can't do without spending extra spoons and I'm alright with some comfortable chaos.

#ask game #not getting any feedback is more damaging to me than a negative comment #I haven't had pointed negative comments but I've had some people with backhanded compliments or just rude #I usually have to defend my work to people who are invested in making it go away #it's a form of enrichment. at least someone is reading my beautiful PDF so to speak #but to think something I made just gets no reaction at all is much more anxiety inducing #thus that initial Bad Brain I think #i'd rather have a debate with someone then launch my ship directly into the abyss y'know? I respect not everyone feels exactly the same way #but I do assume most folks also hate the No Engagement black hole. being ignored or overlooked is the ultimate ego destroyer lol

[jamiesfootball]

2, 11, and/or 30 for the ask game!

2. Favorite part of writing.

Aside from putting characters in situations, it's a dead tie between 'finding increasingly specific ways to describe something' and 'finding ways to sneak in jokes'.

11. Describe your writing process from scratch to finish.

Ooooh-OOOH. OH. Ok ok jot that down- what was that? Oh, okaaaay. Huh. That's a good start- what do you mean there's more? That's, no. No, I said we have other things that we're working on- okay, no, you're right that is a really good idea and it would be emotionally satisfying, Alright, I'll jot this down, but then we're definitely writing it this time, ok? We are going to focus, we will not leave another project unfinished- where are you going?

It's like that. But here's a more coherent answer.

Step 1- I have an idea. Perhaps it's a scene. Something I would like to see happen, out of pure need or a spiteful malaise from not seeing it happen, whichever.

Ex: I saw Mom City and the Finale and decided I hated what they did with Jamie's dad. I thought up a scene where Jamie and Roy talk about that.

Step 2- I spin the giant wheel in my brain. Without consulting me, it finds an unrelated topic. I then hold the first bit - the THING I want to write - up next to the second bit. I cross my eyes until I figure out what pattern exists between the two that my brain wants me to use.

Ex: The scene with Roy and Jamie talking about Jamie's dad + Roy going to therapy = There are two angry men in Jamie's life. Both of them have taken a step towards becoming better, but I only believe that one of them means it. Why?

Step 3- I start figuring out the whys. I think about which scenarios will strain the narrative. I find the uncomfy bits of dialogue that other authors skip over, and I make the characters talk about it at length until I figure out what the problem is. Slowly, a form comes together in the shape of a narrative. I usually have my climactic moments drafted from the start. I usually have a beginning. If I do not know the end, I find it soon enough. The rest I build with sticks. If dramatic moment one happens, what caused it? What tracks need laid to get me there. I sketch those in. Eventually, I have an outline.

Ex: The dissatisfaction from the end of season three becomes where the post season fic starts. The climactic bits breed out of the Roy Jamie conversation I began with. An ending takes shape- this is the final goal, the place I'd like my character to be. From there I work my way in, tying the moments together, until I can say 'yeah, that looks like a full story'.

Step 4- By exploring all of these scenarios and building a narrative architecture, a theme starts to emerge. I use that theme, and reflect it back on the vague bits I don't have written yet.

Ex: At this point I have realized that the entire impetus of the post-season fic is to stack ammo in the discussion of 'should Jamie's father be allowed back in his life?' The answer is no. What began as a simple comparison in step 2 has now become a multi-armed demon, fleshing out the motivations and backstories of every character it touches. The theme is family--born, found, and made--and so now every other character (Roy, Colin, Isaac, Sam, Keeley, Dani) has their family history being dragged into the light to serve as an example.

Step 5 - Legos. I have my outline (the sketch). I have my themes (the paint). Now I have to write it. Fuck. This step lasts forever.

Step 6 - I just keep trying. Because the story exists already, you know? It's not told, but it exists. I just have to keep putting in the work to make it into the physical world.

Step 7 - I print the things out and I scribble on them until I feel better. Then I take the scribbles, and I put them back into step 5.

Step 8 - Repeat steps 5-7 until you are out of legos. Then you are done, for now.

Step 9 - Walk around in a daze, feeling like you're about to cry. Keep repeating to people, "I can't believe it's over." It is never over. That feeling never truly goes away. You are forever surprised that you created something.

Step 10 - Become annoying to everyone you know by blogging about it online.

Ex: In progress

30. Favorite line you’ve ever written.

Oh, I have lots. Shameless self-plug though, everything I wrote about Moe on his quest to do spoken word poetry in chapter 1 of the post-season fic was a goddamn delight. Up to and including the Machiavelli quotes.

One of my other other favorite parts goes to Isaac in the epilogue. It is the bookend to Moe's poetry. I'm literally so excited about it.

Actually I take that back. I just realized I do have a favorite line, and it's a stupid one.

Right now my favorite line is a running joke, wherein I the author put in the placeholder '[whatever Higgins said]' into Roy's internal monologue about being a better person. This in regards to the scene in the finale where the Diamond Dogs talked about learning how to be better, not perfect. Higgins made some good points. I meant to go back and pull the quote from the episode. It was going to be in italics, the way you do when you're bringing back quotes into an internal monologue.

The only thing is I, uh. Did not do that. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense that Roy, who got the gist of what Higgins was saying, maybe didn't necessarily jot down the exact phrasing in his head, the way he does with other lines (the ones that are detrimental to his emotional health and well being.) Also it made me laugh. So now it's just peppered in sometimes, when Roy is trying to be a better person.

'Whatever Higgins said.'

Like I said at the start- I love to sneak in a joke.

#ask game #delightful questions! #thank you!!! #ask box is always open #fic: oh god you're gonna get it (you have not been given love) #ted lasso #roy kent #jamie tartt #leslie higgins #fuck jamie’s dad

[trisofthewild]

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic? 🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write? 🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants? 🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success? ⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

SORRY IT IS TAKING ME A WEEK TO GET THROUGH THIS GAME

🙋‍♀️ Do any irl people know you write fanfic?

Yeahhh, I think most of my irl friends do. When friendships and fandom overlap! It happens. I'm also 99.9% sure my sister knows (and I am 100% sure that she has) but by unspoken agreement this is never acknowledged between us.

🌞 Do you have a preferred time of day to write?

Afternoon and evenings for sure. I definitely wrote a lot of my past fic in the unholiest hours of the night, but now that I am old I don't even like bringing my laptop in my bedroom, much less writing porn past my bedtime.

🦅 Do you outline fics or fly by the seat of your pants?

This is another way I've changed as a writer. Writing late into the night was part of my process when I was younger because I did not plan, I just surfed on waves of inspiration, which frequently meant writing entire short fics in one sitting--if it needed more time, I might not be able to catch another wave. I got a little better at writing stories across multiple sessions as I went along, but without real planning it was always really difficult and I think it ultimately contributed to whatever made me stop writing fic for almost a decade.

When I started writing fic again, I found that without meaning to, I had become a planner. (I always think this has something to do with all the papers and the thesis I had to write for school in those missing years.) I no longer like to even start writing anything down before I have the full story fleshed out in my head, and if I do, it's because I have some really strong ideas that I'll put down in bullet point form, knowing I need more bullet points to make an entire outline with. Sometimes my outlines ARE very vague, more like a list of scenes/beats, and sometimes they're very detailed (I like to choreograph every move of a sex scene, for example), but again, even the outlines usually aren't committed to paper/screen until I've thought the whole story through.

🎉 What leads you to consider a fic a success?

I try not to sweat kudos and comments too much, although that's a lot easier said than done. Focusing on the individual reactions--if any one person, especially a friend or writer I really respect, loves it--I'll probably feel good about it. It's also about whether or not I really like it. If I want to reread my own story and still like it after it's been posted, that's an important form of success.

⌛ How long does it take you to write a fic, or a chapter?

TOO LONG. Here's what I'll say in favor of the inspiration surfing method from my 20s: I worked a lot faster than I do now. Nowadays I can maybe turn out 500 words per day. This doesn't count the planning/outlining stage, or rewriting (I rewrite a lot; most of what I post is at minimum a second or third draft), or editing. So... depending on length: weeks to months.

My current WIP (started about three weeks ago, though I lost about a week to heatwave) has about 4k words, almost all first draft, hundreds of which will doubtless be deleted. It also has several key scenes missing and a deadline less than a week away. Your thoughts and prayers, please.

THANK U FOR THE ASK MARINA ILU I HOPE YOU HAVE A GOOD DAY!!!!!!

#ask game #also please send help

[goodfish-bowl]

ghost cowboy.

AU where Fentons loose custody of Danny and Jazz because reasons, and they go to live with Alicia in Arkansas. Except the woods are weird and act as a supernatural hotspot. There’s a cult, Danny gets struck by lightening, ya know, the works. Vlad is there, pressuring Alicia to sell the farm (he’s also part the cult). Danny has a lasso instead of a thermos. Ghost chicken????? Alicia has a shotgun and isn’t afraid to use it. So, Danny Phantom, but more magic and southern gothic, less tech.

Inspired by @the-stove-is-on-fire ‘s ghost (cow)boy art.

Bonus

#danny phantom #digital art #doodles on the IPad #dp AU #high noon AU #there I coined it #love me some southern culture #I love how the lighting turned out for the sunset one #might have some more drawings #I have some notes for a plot bunny but it would end up as a long fic and I don’t think I can do that right now #maybe some snippets???? #ya know what give me a prompt and I’ll write something for it #I can flesh it out without writing a full length fic for now

[dourpeep]

Howdy! Could I request a soft!dom!kazuha x sub!male!reader? I’ve noticed how little content there was for kazuha, especially the male readers. It could be a series of headcannons, a oneshot, Drabble— whatever you feel more comfortable with! :) I suppose thats all I need to complete the request?

And thus, the long awaited reply! My apologies for the long wait, dearest anon, but it's appropriate, in a way, to finish this the day that Kazuha's debuting!

I ended up writing a full-on fic because the woeful lack of Kazuha fics and even bigger lack of Kazuha x amab!Reader. And we can't have that, now can we? So without further ado, I hope you enjoy! :DD

Hold Me Tighter

Summary: A sweet, intimate night spent in the arms of the one you love.

Contains: ((NSFW 18+)) Kazuha x amab!Reader, soft dom!Kazuha, sub!Reader, grinding, frottage, rimming, sweet & romantic

In the moonlight, you’re draped in the soft silence wearing a thin robe, watching the clouds make their journey across the endless dark of the sky.

Up here, standing on the balcony with the view of the city spread out like a million stars, you can breathe.

It’s nice. But not quite as nice as the familiar warmth of the hand that slips within yours and the lips that press so sweetly to your cheek. Kazuha settles behind you, wrapping his arms securely around you and resting his chin on your shoulder.

“Good evening, something on your mind?”

You lean to the kiss, then turning to rub your nose against his. This little home of yours feels warmer when he’s around.

“Not in particular...” Another kiss finds itself on your jaw just below your ear and he hums in satisfaction. “What are you doing, Kazu?”

“Am I not allowed to kiss you?”

His lips brush down to your neck, and you tilt your head to give him better access. They trail over your pulse and stop at your shoulder. Shifting, Kazuha reaches to gently move your robe to reveal more of your skin.

Then he stops.

The question of why dies on the tip of your tongue when he drapes your robe back in place, instead replaced by curious confusion.

“You should come back inside, this—” He mumbles, tugging at the thin, silky material of your robe. “Will make you catch a cold out here. The air tonight is brisk.”

So you follow him inside the warmth of your home, humoring his worry.

With you in the safety of his arms now, Kazuha hums with a satisfied smile. You lean back to rest against his chest, your hand sliding up to rest on top of one of his.

Breathing in deep, he noses at your hair, mumbling about the subtle smell of your shampoo. He was right, it’s much nicer to relax inside where the cool breeze doesn’t nip at your skin. Instead, the chill is replaced with the gentle heat radiating off of your lover and a comfortable ambiance.

But the soft silence only lasts so long with the telltale feel of fingers playing with the ties of your robe, a warm puff of breath brushing against the exposed skin of your neck. They leave and trail up to trace over your collarbone and the fabric partly covering it.

Throat bobbing, you relax as his other hand slides from under yours to guide the fabric away from your shoulder.

Before he can drag his lips along the newly exposed skin, you wiggle from his arms, taking his hand in yours and guiding him to the bedroom.

Clothing quickly finds its place in a pile on the floor, leaving no room between the two of you as you lay on your back.

Tender, Kazuha leans down over you, cock pressing to your thigh and lips melding against yours. You gasp into his mouth and buck your hips when his start to roll slowly against yours, grinding down on your own aching member.

With each bump of hips, you moan, tilting your head back.

“Kazuha…”

Dragging his lips over down to the fluttering pulse beneath the surface of your neck, he breathes you in, smiling against your skin. You’re warm, pleasantly so against the length of his body, and the hand that’s settled on your hip slides down to cup your ass and give it a squeeze. Languid, he pulls your hips up against the rhythm of his thrusts.

Every slide of his skin against yours feeds the growing desire but soon his hips stop and your brows furrow at the loss of friction.

Watching as he pulls away, sitting up, your eyes drift between you. Oh, you whisper, seeing the shine of precum spread over your cock and his, how it’s messily leaking over your stomach.

Your cheeks flare and he chuckles, removing himself from between your legs. “No need to be embarrassed. Can you turn around for me?”

Nodding, you shift, pressing your chest to the soft surface of the bed with your arms tucked beneath the pillow under your head. Immediately, his hands are back on you, rubbing up your thighs and massaging your ass. They waste no time in exploring the expanses of skin with teasing brushes and squeezes.

When he lowers himself down onto the bed, his lips meet the round of your ass with a kiss. His hands slide to cup each side.

Holding the soft flesh in his hands, he spreads them, leaning down to trail his lips from where his thumb settles besides your puckered hole. He swipes the pad over it, marveling over the shaky sigh the sensation draws.

He licks his lips and locks eyes with you, chuckling when you advert them and press your face against your arms.

Kazuha’s tongue traces along the sensitive seam beneath your shaft, hot breath puffing against heated skin. He can’t help the way that his lips knowingly curl up when your cock jumps at the feeling.

“Ngh..”

As he laps at the sensitive skin, he blows cool air gently only to place warm lips back. The shift in sensation draws a moan from your lips, though muffled by the pillow, then a gasp. A bite to your thigh trails back up to tease just beside your hole, waiting for a whine to slip before his tongue circles around it. Tensing, you arch your back to press closer to him.

“Patience, dove.”

But as soon as he says that he plunges his tongue into you, groaning at the way you breathe his name.

He works his tongue, thrusting it into you before pulling it away to swirl around your entrance. Eyes closed, he presses another kiss to one of your cheeks.

When Kazuha finally pulls away, a thin thread of saliva left between his tongue and you, he slides his hands from your ass up your back, leaning over you.

“Left drawer?” A few moments are spent missing the feel of him.

The cap of the bottle opens with a sudden pop.

“It’s a little cold, okay?”

You jump at the feel of the cold gel pressing to your hole, and he quickly apologizes. But the temperature is fleeting and soon warms as he circles his fingers around.

“I’ll just use one first.”

Gingerly, he squeezes out a bit more lube before his touch returns to you. His fingers aren’t particularly large, so the first slides in with some ease. It pushes in, to the first knuckle, waiting for you to relax before continuing. When you let out a breathy moan, he pushes it in all the way.

The way you squeeze around the single digit makes his head spin.

“You think you can take another already or should I relax you more?”

So aroused, you urge him to continue.

A second slick finger prods and pushes into you, his hand twisting so his palm is facing up. Already you’re tempted to move your hips, to take them in further. He starts pumping his fingers in you, spreading them to drag along your walls and coax you to relax. Each movement draws a sigh from your lungs and your eyes flutter closed.

“Feels nice…”

But he clicks his tongue, teasing. “Just nice?”

The aimless stretching turns into the slow, careful drag in and out, fingers curving to press just a bit more against your walls. Another crook and—

Oh! Judging by the way your laugh hitches and your hips tilt back, he tries to brush against that spot again. And again, and again, until you’re effectively fucking yourself on his fingers.

“Getting close? I want you to tell me, use your words.”

“Ye—yes- Kazuh—hahh-“

The knot in your stomach tightens and breaks as you tumble over your peak, cock messily leaking white onto the sheets below, and your body trembles at the intensity of your orgasm. A third finger presses in and massages you through the haze of pleasure, making you whine.

Just the three make you feel so full.

“Feels good now, hm?”

But the smug tone hardly registers when you’re so focused on the added pressure pressing into your ass. He continues fucking you with his fingers, prolonging your pleasure, only slowing to a stop when you sob his name and tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

A shaky breath of relief accompanies the withdrawal of fingers.

Wiping his hand on his thigh, he settles besides you, kissing your shoulder and gently nuzzling his cheek against you.

“Was that too much…?”

You shake your head, still dizzy from your high. He shifts again, hardness pressed against you. But he makes no move to continue, instead smoothing his hand over your back in soothing motions. A few moments pass where he peppers you in gentle affection while you catch back up.

When you find the strength, you pull your knees up. Burying your face in the pillow, you mutter an okay.

“Relax for me…” He murmurs against your skin, kisses pressed along your spine to help calm you. “I’ll go slow.”

Guiding the tip of his cock along the cleft of your ass, Kazuha takes his time to swipe it along your taint. His heart pounds in his chest, urging him to hurry and feel you around his cock, and he’s sure that yours does the same. But he continues, deliberate, sliding back up your ass and back down. You press your face into the pillow to muffle a frustrated moan and he chuckles.

“Too slow?” You shake your head accompanied with the short chirp of a ‘no’.

When he finally presses against your ass, you’re relaxed and ready. With a murmur of your name, tender and sweet, he waits, letting you prepare. Lips on your shoulder, he carefully tilts his hips closer to yours.

And archons, the feel of him finally pushing past that first ring of muscle…

Kazuha watches the way you react, ruby eyes flickering over your back and thighs for any sign of discomfort. A sigh of relief puffs from his lips when you don’t tense up hard. Good.

“Keep going—”

Impatient tonight, then? But instead of laughing, since his own patience is being tested by the ache of his own desire, he hums and lowers his body to brush against yours.

Just a bit more and—

The sound that leaves your lips sends a rush of heat straight through his body.

“Mmnh!”

Ah, so he did find the right angle.

Focusing on shallow thrusts, he cants his hips back to hit that spot, each stroke slow. Every movement makes your head grow fuzzy and hips try and press back against his for more.

Drinking in your moans, Kazuha rubs and squeezes at your hip, murmuring sweet words of praise in your ear. You’re doing so well, taking him so well—

But right before the white-hot feeling of your pleasure spills over, he instead bottoms out in a fluid motion.

Frustration is quickly overridden by the realization of his hips pressed flush to your ass and his warm forehead between your shoulders. With the suddenness of your tight heat squeezing around him there’s only so much that he can do to will himself to calm down.

Blindly, one of his hands reaches for yours to intertwine fingers.

The cool of the air around you makes you so much more aware of the way heavy panting draws puffs of warmth against your skin, his lips just barely hovering over your flushed skin.

One second turns to five before his hips shift and start a slow pace and you melt against the sheets when he rolls his hips deeper, hips flush to hips.

Each thrust is so deliciously slow, his cock dragging against your walls and pressing up against that spot with every push back in.

Breath ghosts over your pulse as he rocks into you, pulling out and pushing back in entirely. Though the slight twinge of friction makes your breath hitch, the pleasure that washes over you quickly quells any discomfort. The feel of him going so deep with every movement leaves you gasping.

Slow, deep, he takes his time. Kazuha’s lips press to the back of your neck, blowing gently into your ear.

“Love you—”

As he murmurs, his hands travel along the length of your body, reaching to rub at your chest, at your thigh. His voice soft, he whispers these words like a prayer, over and over again as if their truth would only grow with each utter.

With the feel of you so tight around him, he can’t help but quicken his thrust, the slide of slick lube and your moans like music encouraging him. Your still intertwined hands press into the soft sheets of the bed, shifting with every meeting of his hips to yours.

He hits the spot again and you can’t help the plea that slips from you. “Touch me please-“

So he does, the hand on your hip sliding to meet your cock, teasing at your sensitive tip leaking precum and then up its length to wrap around your shaft. Every thrust makes it slip between his loose grip. Each thrust coaxing that familiar pressure to build within you.

You angle your hips more, closer to his. Though his hand leaves yours to grip your waist, he peppers kisses along your shoulders and whispers soft praise. So good, always so good for him.

The next brush against that spot makes you see stars and you’re left with shaking legs. When Kazuha pulls out of you, hissing at the way you clench around him in desperate attempt to make him thrust back in, the hand stroking you leaves.

“Wait—I’m so-“

He presses his cock between your spread legs, tip teasing against your shaft. He guides you to press your thighs together. Chest flush against yours, he thrusts quicker, gripping both of your cocks and stroking to the pace of his hips.

His moans pick up, raspy with need. So close—

Movements quickly become sloppy and his hand squeezes around both shafts to draw another moan from him and a gasp from you, edging closer and closer. The tension builds fast.

With a final slam of his hips against yours, pushing his cock between your soft thighs, he cries out your name and comes undone with warm white painting his hand and the sheets below you. Though sensitive, he weakly thrusts and continues to slide his hand along your shaft until you too feel the pressure in your belly snap and your spend mingles with his.

You let yourself collapse on the bed with limbs pleasantly numb, bringing a startled Kazuha along with you.

Ignoring the way your cum puddles beneath you, you laugh even though you’re already breathing hard as is. He rolls off from on top of you.

“Bath?”

While you try to catch your breath, your lover takes the hand closes to him in his, bringing it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. It brings heat to your cheeks.

“Yes please.”

So after a few blissful moments spent just laying besides each other, you’re settled in the bath with Kazuha beside you. The hot water burns pleasantly against your skin.

Dragging a soft towel up along your arm he gently wipes, every movement slow and steady. The suds the cloth leaves smell sweet, light. When he finishes wiping the sweat and grime from you, his lips press to your temple.

“Want me to wash your hair?” A hum of approval from you is all he needs to hear before he carefully cups some of the water to pour over your head. “Close your eyes—”

It flows, wetting your hair and flowing over your features in little rivulets.

The pop of a cap follows as soon as he’s satisfied with his work.

As soon as his hands find their way into your hair, fingertips massaging your scalp, you can’t help but lean further into his touch. Kazuha chuckles, the sound pleasant in the way it reverberates in the room. He’s always so attentive, so soft.

Sighing, you smile, basking in the afterglow and comfort that he provides, morning still far ahead.

#anon asks #kazuha #kazuha x reader #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact #genshin impact fics #genshin impact x reader #kaedehara kazuha #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact smut #hehehee just in time for Kazuha's debut #dom!Kazuha #genshin impact x male reader

[junisfics]

teacher's pet* — eren jaeger

eren jaeger x puppy! reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: smut / nsfw 18 + (mirrors, slight pet play, corruption kink, humiliation, mentions of f! masturbation)

notes: i was going to write a full length hard core pet play fic but i ended up running out of time so here's a little blurb :)

eren had your back to his chest as you both sat on the floor. your legs were spread out and up and over his thighs so you couldn't even close them if you tried.

you were squirming against his chest and the hard on pressing into your back, eyes squeezing shut because in front of you was a giant, full body mirror.

with only a skimpy tank top on, eren had you blushing and writhing in front of this mirror without even laying a finger on you. you felt so exposed, so vunerable.

you had walked to his dorm, just down the hall from yours, pushed open his door real quietly and tip toed into his room all sheepishly.

"eren," you had said, with your voice all tiny and submissive, "can you help me?"

and without even asking you what you needed help with, eren had said yes. you're his sweet little girlfriend; so dependent on him, so needy for him... of course he'd help you.

but he wasn't expecting you to tell him, with your eyes to the floor and fiddling with your fingers, "can't get off"

now, eren knew you were a virgin... you told him. and it was quite obvious. the way you trembled and moaned at the gentlest brushes of his fingers or lips, the way your hips stuttered when you got a good feel of his hard on. he thought it was the cutest thing.

but what he didn't know, is that you've never gotten yourself off before.

you've played with yourself, teased yourself, stuffed your little fingers inside your cunt until you were a shaky mess. but you could never bring yourself to an orgasm.

and tonight was all the same.

you were in your dorm, your own one at that, laid out onto your bed with your little hand shoved down your panties, two fingers curling inside you while you bit down on your other hand to muffle your moans.

and you were sure you were gonna do it this time, you were so sure of it!

but as quickly as your high climbed, your poor hand got tired just as fast. and you were a hot and bothered, frustrated mess when you explained to him what happened.

you told him that you've never came before, that you've never gotten to the best part.

and it made erens cock throb in his pants.

so, when he grabbed ahold of your hips and sat you down in front of the mirror, peeling your panties down your legs, he was determined to make you cum. he needed to feel you cream around his fingers for your very first time.

"look at you. so pretty for me, hm?" he mumbles, head tilted down so he can speak against your ear.

you had turned your head away from the reflective glass, vision narrowed as you buried the side of your head into his chest. every so often your eyes flit to the side to catch a glance of you all spread out for him, but they returned just as fast.

"c'mon, be a good girl 'n look for me." one of the hands around your waist slid up your chest to grab ahold of your chin, turning it gently to bring your eyes to the mirror.

his other hand tickles at the skin below your navel, sending waves of goosebumps over your exposed flesh.

"'s embarassing." you whine, eyes darting to the plush grey carpet on the floor beside you.

eren presses a gentle kiss to your hair, "no it's not, puppy. it's to help teach you."

"you gonna be a good girl 'n watch for me? watch me finger your cunt nice and good so you can learn how to do it yourself?" the hand against your stomach slides a little lower, teasing just above your clit, "'m not always gonna be here to do it for you."

you know that. you know that, physically, eren won't always be around to take care of you the way you really need it. so, you let your eyes skim over the carpet and inch up the glass of the mirror

"that's my girl," he says, voice low and velvety and dripping with sensuality, "if you take your eyes off yourself... i'll stop."

both of you were aching with anticipation. you just wanted him to treat you, finger you how you need it until you're cumming around his digits. you need that release, you need it from him.

and eren was desperate to have you writhing in his grasp, choking out moans for him as you gush for the very first time, and all over his fingers.

his fingers brush over your clit real soft, circling it slowly. he can hear your breath hitch, your little hands coming to the forearm that still has a hold on your chin. you were so sensitive, all fidgety in front of him and your body growing even hotter at his touch.

“eren —“ you speak no louder than a whisper, just enough for him to hear you.

he lets his hand fall from your chin to the bottom hem of your shirt, dipping up and under it and teasing the soft skin under your right breast. you jerked a little at the sensation.

“this alright?” he mumbles. you can feel his lips turn into a smirk against your ear.

you nod, quickly and desperately, taking your bottom lip between your teeth to stifle another whine. you realize then, that your gaze has shifted away from the  mirror. your head had fallen forward once he released your head and you were watching his fingers tease at you.

“head up,” he says, like he could read your thoughts. 

you bring your head up, your cheek brushing against his jaw as you rest back onto his shoulder. in the mirror, you see his fingers begin to slide lower, sliding through the slick arousal that’s gathered against your hot skin.

“you this wet for me?” he chuckles, sliding the tips of his fingers through your heat.

his comment makes your face and neck grow warm, crinkling your nose, legs attempting to close. but his own are in the way and preventing you from doing so.

“eren, this is humiliating,” you mutter, backing farther up into his chest like you were trying to escape. but you knew you weren’t. you were too riled up, to desperate for him to fill you.

“take a lick, puppy.” he teases, bringing his hand away from your cunt and up to your face.

you turn your head into his neck, eyes only flitting to his fingers for brief seconds to look at the creamy slick that’s gathered on his fingertips. you look up to him, eyes wide.

“be a good girl ‘n get my fingers nice and wet for you.” he smiles, looking down at you.

hesitantly, and eager to please, you turn back to his hand. you take his wrist in both of your much smaller hands and bring his hand forth towards your mouth. sticking your tongue out, you slide two of his glistening fingers inside your mouth.

you taste yourself on his skin, slightly bitter and tarte, and let his fingers press against the soft of your tongue to coat them in your saliva. he tells you to open your mouth as he pulls them out, to avoid your lips, and they leave your tongue with a slimey string of saliva in their wake.

the spit drips off his fingers and down your stomach before his hand reaches your center again. they’re warm, and wet from your tongue when they tease your entrance. eren can feel your cunt flutter against his fingertips.

“fuck baby —” he mutters, beginning to tease his middle finger inside, “oh god.”

your hands return to his forearm, the one that has a hand now palming at your breast, and etch your blunt nails into the sinew there.

“please, please,” your breath catches in your throat again, voice getting all shaky as he slides in just a little more and a little more until he’s two knuckles deep.

you’re so tight around him, squeezing his single digit so well. every shift of his hand has your cunt pulsing around his knuckles. 

“jesus fuck, ‘can feel you.” 

when his finger is to it’s hilt, he has it stay there for a little. he only moves it to curl it against your gummy walls and press against your sweet spot real gently. it has you keening.

“eren,” you whimper, your legs beginning to tremble over his own.

it was pathetic. he was only a finger deep inside you and you were falling apart, crumbling into a stupid mess before him.

his hand on your breast shifts upwards, his fingers grazing over your raised nipple and sending your head falling back against his collarbone. your back was arching into his dualty touches, your ass grinding against his hard cock.

“need more, please.” you beg with a breathy moan

you’ve lost all care towards memorizing his actions for later. because never, never ever, would you be able to possibly come close to replicating the pleasure he’s making you feel right now.

he slides his finger out of you, relishing the cries that leave your lips as he does so. then, he slips it back in real easily. you’re sucking him back in, clenching around him and begging for more.

he starts with languid pumps of that one finger, pairing it with dirty praises against your ear as you tremble and shake in his arms. your stomach was twisting so deliciously in pleasure; at an intensity you’ve never felt before.

he was skilled with his actions, you don’t even care if he’s done them a million times before, because the way his was making you feel right now had you so on edge. you thought you’d explode.

and then, as he pulls back out once more, he returns with another finger.

“oh my god.” your legs clamp around his own.

eren can feel your stomach tense up as he fills you even more. he can feel your breathing grow ragged and the volume of your cries become careless.

“fuck, you’re close aren’t you, puppy?” he asks. his tongue slips past his lips to lick at the skin of your neck, covered in a sheen of sweat.

“eren! i — i’m —“ your mouth falls open, legs thrashing around.

“fuck yeah, cum for me.” he mumbles, hand on your breast sliding farther up your shirt to grab your chin again, turning your head to him and taking your lips in his with a sloppy kiss.

it was messy, you gushed all over his fingers and hand and fuzzy carpet. you moaned into his mouth, his hot tongue licking against your own and the roof of you mouth. your body was spasming in his arms, ass grinding up against him as he rode through his own orgasm.

just from watching you, from watching your pretty little cunt squeeze his fingers and leak all over him, he came in thick hot spurts and all in his pants.

JUNISFICS © 2021

#tw: corruption #eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x reader smut #eren yeager smut #eren smut #eren x reader #eren x reader smut #1k

[words-etched-in-her-skin]

Hello, my dears! This request came from my Ao3 account after my Alcina mirror sex fic posted. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it  😏🤤 - noooooo please don't leave it there i need to see alcina lose control with that big strap this was so hot 🥵    

****

The refreshed feeling of cool mahogany against your feverish skin, the deep heat that seemed to roll off of Alcina’s body in sweeping waves, the words that now spun unhindered through your bliss hazed mind.. ‘Be a good pet, and brace yourself’’. And god, how badly you wanted to show her just how good you could be. How well you could submit. How desperately you wanted her to destroy you - ripping that safeword straight from your breathless lips. 

Alcina’s heady pheromones swiftly enveloping you - intoxicatingly indulgent - the full length of her leaned over the back of you, casting your body in a deep shadow. You could feel her warm breath ghosting over your neck and shoulders as she leaned in a little closer, sending a prompt shiver down your spine. 

“Such an intoxicating pet you are.” She murmured, placing a soft kiss to the base of your neck. “The things that you entice me to do.” 

You let out a strangled moan as she followed her sweet kisses with the unmistakable sharpness of her teeth. Alcina’s strap still stationary inside you - buried deep within your aching core. And it took everything in you not to buck your hips back into her out of pure desperation. Even if the thought of her punishing you made your whole body fill with heat, fill the uttermost need. At that moment, you wanted nothing more than for her to completely demolish you - to wholly wreck you - stopping herself just short of ripping you apart. 

You shivered as her warm breath skated across your back and shoulder blades. The length of her tongue exploring the base of your neck before finally finding your ear. 

“And so delicious, too.” She whispered. 

“Ah-! Please, my lady.” 

“And so sweet.”

She punctuated her praise with an absolutely indulgent thrust, forcing you to cry out. 

“So obedient.”

Another as she nipped at your soft skin. 

“So perfect.”

Fireworks building behind your eyes as your deeply flushed face fell flat against the vanity. Each praised filled thrust causing an immense and unyielding heat to spill over you. She was meticulous in her movements, as she was with everything in life - a woman in control - slow, teasing you, but always hitting exactly where you needed it. . 

“Mmph… th-thank you, my Lady.” 

“Ah, but shouldn’t I be the one thanking you, my pet?”

She purred softly against the soft skin of your neck before licking over it - relishing in the deep shudder that spilled across you. 

“For.. for what, my Lady?”

“Why, for being so utterly divine, my pet.” 

You whimpered again at her praise, at the feeling of her strap filling you so completely - over and over again - as if she moved her hips to some unknown rhythm. Your fingernails clawing deeper into the smooth mahogany beneath you with each masterful thrust that she gave you. Moaning louder as the width of her hands found your hips, driving your backside firmly into her.

“No coming without my permission, pet.” 

Alcina’s words alone were enough to compel the relentless fire in your core to ignite even further, willing a most delicious whimper to slip past your lips. 

“Y-yes, my Lady.”

“And keep your eyes on me.”

“Mmph, fuck.. Yes, my Lady.” 

Your voice was breathless - barely above a whisper as you did your best to return your gaze back to the mirror in front of you.

“That’s a good pet. Watch mommy as she wrecks you.” 

The sultry tones to her voice, the slight growl that lay dormant just beneath, murmured huskily into your overly flushed skin. The soft skin of your cheeks - the fine lines of your face - every singular detail of your body steadily becoming blurred by the fierce blush that moved unhindered across it. The feeling of her large frame against your backside as her calculated thrusts remained at an achingly slow pace. Each one forcing juices to drip deliciously down your  heated thighs. Her large hands encasing your hips and up to your sides, holding up your body like a lifeline. Half lidded eyes locked onto golden embers as the sheer power of Alcina continued to completely unravel you - slow and steady - a keen smirk curling across her devious lips as her fingers began to roam.  

“That’s it, my pet. You are doing so well.” 

A shudder of a breath, an absolute desperate moan cutting through the cool night air as the imposing girth of her fingers found your clit, circling it slowly. Her other hand at the small of your back, giving herself complete control of every movement you made. Quickening the pace of your hips - large, generous circles over your clit - willing you to cry out for her even more. Forcing you to whimper - to claw, shake, tremble with absolute need for more - for release. For anything that your Lady was willing to give you. Feeling your hips jerk into her as your peak became closer and closer to the edge. 

“Ah.. mmh.. fuck.. I’m .. I’m close, my lady.” 

A spin to your surroundings as the deep seated pleasure swiftly dropped from your body just as quickly as the warmth of Alcina’s fingers left your clit. Her strap completely still - teasing inside you - so desperate for release that you could feel your heartbeat clench  around it. 

‘Mmh.. such a good pet.” 

She stroked over your hair affectionately, bringing a small kiss to your shoulder before nipping at it. Each mark that decorated your body connected like a singular lay line to her heart. Thumping loudly with each soft kiss that she gifted over them. 

“Please… please, my lady..” 

Sometimes you hated how weak she made you, how completely desperate she could get you to be - but in retrospect, you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

She chuckled, pushing cool breath across your heated skin, “Always so needy for your Lady, hm?”

“Mmph-!” 

The sound that left your lips was one of pure desire - of utter need. Wanting her to take your body as it was - to do everything that she had ever fantasized about - ever dreamed about. You squirmed against her without a moment of a thought, bucking your hips back as the need between your legs turned into a frenzied ache.. Swallowing hard as you watched the dangerous glint sweep over her eyes. 

“Now, now… be patient, pet. You’ve been doing so well.”

She nipped at your shoulder blade hard, drawing beads of crimson swiftly into her eager mouth. Sucking indulgently as the width of her finger pressed firmly against your clit.. An exquisitely intoxicating mix of sensations as she put the trio into steady motion. Her experienced mouth drinking from you as if you were her last and final meal. Her finger generous against you as she circled it steadily over your aching clit. The strap that could easily destroy you, delivering nothing but the most delicious thrusts as she matched the three in perfect rhythm. 

“Fuck.. I’m... “ 

“Always so vulgar.” 

It was barely a murmur against feverish skin - a mutter of a whisper - as Alcina’s masterful hips quickened their pace. The width of her spilling over the back of you as she brought you to the edge of pleasure and back again. Denying you time and time again. Chuckling at every curse that slipped past your lips, smirking at every whimper and moan. Half lidded eyes locked onto hers as you obediently held her gaze. 

 “I can smell how desperate for release you are, my pet.” 

A deep thrust to your swollen core, pulling an utterly desperate moan from your lips. 

“Ah-! Please.. “

“Tell me badly you want it, pet. Use your words.” 

“I need it.. ah.. so badly.. please.. Alcina…”

Her name skipped through your haze filled mind like a fever dream. Echoing against the strumming of your own heartbeat. The only thing able to cut through it was the deep and guttural growl that compelled itself out of Alcina’s body. Suns dissolving into slivers - a total eclipse of her eyes - dilating fully as large fingers wrapped firmly in your hair, pulling you straight back with an unyielding force. The length of you flush against her, every cell in your being set ablaze as she held your body in place. A sneer like smirk, a flutter of her eyelashes as Alcina swiftly brought her mouth to the crook of your neck, sinking the sharpness of her teeth deep into your soft skin. Growling louder as you moaned. Swift euphoria sweeping over you like a tidal wave - a current - an exquisite undertow as she pulled the crimson straight from your heated flesh - panting slightly as she pulled away.

“How easily I could drink you dry, pet. How quickly I could leave your body lifeless, right where you stand.” 

She brought her teeth back into you harder this time, earning a sharp yelp to force its way  past your lips. The width of her hands moving quickly - one to your throat and the other to your hips. A sublime heat as the sharp sting of her claws seeped ever so slightly into your flesh, causing you to whimper. The length of her tongue licking expertly over your wounds as she delivered a forceful and indulgent thrust to your core.

“And yet.. you fear me not.. do you, pet?” 

“N-no, my lady… m-more...” 

She tightened the grasp on your throat, forcing your gaze to her own. An almost primal look upon her face as the hand that held your hips in place moved indulgently to your clit, circling it once. 

“Ah-! Please, Mistress!” 

You knew you were playing with fire - knew that your words were tempting the beast inside - and you didn’t care. You relished in it. In knowing how easily she could destroy you - how swiftly she could  break you - how wholly and completely she could make you hers. And you knew you should be scared, knew that the dangerous glint that now spilled relentless over the blacks of her eyes, was nothing but absolute in it’s warning.

“Oh, my pet… always so unsatisfied, hm?”

“Ah.. yes, my lady… please.”

“How absolutely divine you smell when you beg for me.” Her breath was stifling against you as she leaned in further. “Well… as you wish.”

You watched the tiny beads of crimson drip deliciously down your neck as she tightened her grasp a little more. An absolute predatory look to her eyes as she shifted her stance slightly, widening your legs for her even more. The tips of her barely extended claws teasing over your inner thigh before allowing the smoothness of them to ghost over your clit. You shuddered, dropping your gaze for less than a second before the strength of the fingers tightened once more - pulling your eyes immediately forward.

“That’s a good pet.”

You watched as the blush across your face grew even deeper. Watched as a deep seated pleasure sweeped over the fine lines of your face. As the juices began to flow steadily from your core. As the whites of your teeth found your flushed swollen lips. The length of her strap deep inside you as she started a strong and merciless rhythm. The fingers around your neck, firm - the ones on your clit, generous and indulgent. Both supremely arousing .. both pushing you closer and closer to the edge

Watching obediently as the first orgasm washed over you. A white hot pleasure spilling across the landscape of you - ripping your name from her lips like an prayer. The pace of her hips unyielding as she forced one orgasm on you after another. Each wave of pleasure more delicious than the last - crashing over you in ways that you didn’t even know possible. And you wondered how many times you had screamed her name. How many times she’d made you plead for more -  begging for her not to have mercy on you. Her normally calculated movements becoming more frenzied in nature with each plea. A sheer primality rolling over her in steady waves as she drove her strap into you with unrelenting force. The sun already started it’s ascent into the dawn stricken sky by the time she was done with you. By the time she returned your breathless body back to the smooth mahogany below you. Her cool breath skating over your crimson skin as she whispered softly into your ear. 

“Just one more time, my pet. Just come for mommy one more time.” 

And you did, hard - harder than before - harder than ever. Full white out behind your eyes - the entire room spinning as her words skipped across you like a free wielding star. It was all consuming, enveloping you in a pleasure so thick that you were sure you felt your toes curl - your soul shake. Juices gushing from your core as Alcina’s strap pushed over and past the brink of pleasure one last time. Panting as your whole body shuddered. Your flushed face flat against the cooled wood of the vanity, your hitched breath only growing deeper. 

‘You did so, so well, my pet.” 

She purred the words into you, peppering soft kisses up the side of your neck - a soft smile against your skin as her lips found your temple. 

“Mmh.. thank you, my lady,” 

“Shouldn’t I be thanking you, my pet?”

“Hm? For.. for what?”

“Why, for being so utterly diving, my pet.” 

You chuckled at her on-going quip - letting the blissful haze swiftly pull you under, barely hearing the last words that she muttered against you.

"Rest up, my pet. I expect your tongue in me by breakfast."

#depravity answered #charlottepriestly on ao3 #resident evil village #resident evil #re8 village #resident evil 8 #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu fanfic #resident evil fanfic #fuck #im #djdksjskaaka #gayyyy #i hope you like it 😈

[petri808]

If you're open for nalu requests, can you write a smut fic where nalu goes to a lingerie store because lucy wants to try on some lingerie and natsu ends up getting aroused? But if you can't it's fine just ignore this ask😊

Hi Nony, this is the last request I’ll do. Decided to save this for @thenaluarchive Sinfully Nalu event Mirror prompt. What did Lucy expect by dragging Natsu lingerie shopping?

“I’ve just got one more stop to make.” Lucy pointed towards the other side of the mall.

“Ugh…” Natsu’s shoulders dropped, “but we’ve been here for 2 hours already, Lucy, and I’m getting hungry.”

“I’ll spring for lunch. Anything you want.”

“I’m holding you to it,” he grumbled, but allowed her to pull him forward.

Natsu knew the mall well enough to know that the section they were heading towards were mostly women’s clothing stores— definitely not where he wanted to be. All these fancy clothes, and accessories, and… stuff that his girlfriend loved to wear. Sure, he didn’t complain cause it made her happy, he just didn’t wanna shop for it. Forever twenty something, Cache or Channel— whatever, “oh, uh-uh, no way,” he jerked them to a halt. “I ain’t going in there.”

“It’s just Victoria’s Secret.”

“Well Victoria can keep her secret. Lucy you’re crazy if you think I’m going in a women’s lingerie store!”

Lucy turned to face, then grabbed both of Natsu’s hands, holding them together close to her chest. “Please,” her eyes begged. “I need you to tell me what you think will be nice on me.”

Thinking about his girl, in lingerie, while standing in a mall was *not* the image Natsu wanted conjuring in his mind. But between the soft, puppy-dog expression, and her whimpering pleading— he was powerless to turn Lucy down. He sighed with a whine. “Fine. I’ll go.”

“Yay!” She giggled, kissed his cheek, and took his hand again, entwining their fingers together. “I’ll make it as painless as possible.”

Yeah, uh-huh, right… Painless.

As they walked down the rows and racks of lingerie, Natsu hummed in his head as a distraction. Bras, panties. Low cut, high cut, thongs, g-strings. Sets, individual pieces. Lace, satin, cotton. So many choices! He let the colors blend in his vision, the scents of brand-new clothing mixed with perfumes sold, or miscellaneous accessories. How do women pick anything when there’s so many options? Give him a t-shirt and jeans and he was good to go.

Every so many picks, Lucy would ask his opinion. ‘Yeah, that’s nice. No, that looks itchy. I like that color. Eww, it doesn’t match you.’ Finding her size in the styles she wanted wasn’t always easy, but after 30 minutes, Lucy had half a dozen or so items to try on. So, they head towards the fitting rooms.

Natsu stopped in front of the doors, and readied himself to stand around and wait—

“You’re coming in with me.” Lucy tugged on his hand. “I need your final opinion.”

Up until now, Natsu had managed to avoid thinking about anything even remotely related to sex, but now?! “Uh-uh, no way!”

“Please…” Lucy turned on the pouty lip-action and puppy-dog eyes again. “It’s not like you won’t see me in them later.”

Natsu gulped hard as the naughty images were unlocked. “Are you trying to kill me in public?”

“Pfft, no,” she giggled. “Stop exaggerating this.”

‘You have no idea, woman…’ “Alright, fine. But don’t blame me if anything happens in there.” Because if the twitch in his pants and slight bulge growing was any indication, it wouldn’t be what she’d be expecting.

“Tch.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “It’ll be fine, Natsu, you’ll see.”

The dressing room was a lot more spacious than he was used to seeing. Men’s fitting rooms, at least the ones he’s been in are like closets with just one full length mirror, and maybe a small bench inside. This one could easily fit them both, with wrap around mirrors to catch every angle. It had a small, cushioned bench along one wall, and a couple of hooks on the inside of the door. But most noteworthy was the fact it was a fully enclosed room— not those partial-length doors at lower-quality stores. It was very, very private.

Natsu sat down on the bench and closed his eyes while Lucy fiddled with her options. He could hear the plastic and metal hangers going up on the hooks, as well as the sounds of his girlfriend shedding her clothing. His mouth suddenly felt dry… Lucy’s voluptuous body bared for him to see with only her regular panties left on— he squeezed his eyes tighter shut. ‘Don’t think about it! Don’t think about it!’

“Ready— Natsu, silly,” Lucy giggled. “How are you gonna tell me if it’s good or not if you can’t see?”

“No.”

Lucy threaded her fingers gingerly through his hair. “Just one peak…”

‘Fuck…’ he groaned as the tightening in his shorts grew uncomfortable. “One peak.”

Natsu opened his eyes and immediately slammed them shut again from the screaming bra and panties glued to her frame. A sheer red with solid fabric only over the nipples and a strip covering her crotch. So much flesh revealed in these outfits, was there even a point to wearing anything at all?

“Great!” His voice squeaked out. “Looks fine.”

Her giggles only added to his demise. The sounds of more fabric rustling, and the twitch in his shorts… Natsu shifted in his seat trying to get comfortable, but he couldn’t. Lucy had grabbed about six of seven different pieces to try, and this was only the beginning. She was too damn sexy, and he swore, derived pleasure out of torturing him like this! Ugh, his cock was so hard right now…

“Okay, next piece,” Natsu heard her say. “I’m not sure about it, cause the color doesn’t seem to look good on me.”

Tch, it could be multi-colored polka dots and Lucy would still be a man’s wet dream. He cracked open one eye. It was a dark green, combo with frilled lace along the waistband. Natsu gulped hard as she did a turn around to reveal a thong and curvy swell of her backside.

“You do realize I’m biased, right?” Natsu blurted out. “Everything looks good on you to me.”

“Awww,” Lucy bent down and placed a chaste kiss to his lips. “I still think I’ll add this to the maybe pile,” she spoke as she started removing the pieces. “I think you’ll really like the next one I found; it has these cute flames on them.”

“You know what I’d prefer to see?” Natsu questioned, for he was done holding back.

Lucy stopped mid-way, bent slightly over with the thong down to her thighs. “What?”

Without answering her, Natsu got off the bench and started helping her take the thong off.

“Natsu, what are you—”

Once off, he moved onto her regular panties down.

“Nat— s-stop!” Lucy grabbed for his hands, but she couldn’t do much without twisting or tripping. “What are you do—”

“Keep your voice down.” He tugged those off too leaving her exposed from the waist down.

“Natsu this isn’t funny!” She seethed in an exasperated whisper.

“Neither is this,” he gestured at the bulge in his shorts. Guiding her against the mirrored wall as he spoke. “You said I could choose whatever I wanted for lunch, and I’ve decided to put you on the menu.”

Lucy whimpered when she felt the cold mirror against her bare skin. “But we’re in public.”

“I warned you didn’t I…” Natsu leaned in with a whisper, cheek to cheek. “Then I suggest you not make any noise,” his words wisp out, warm breath fanning down the barren skin as his lips burn a trail over her neck. Lucy dug her fingers into his hair, holding on but not stopping him as he moved lower.

His stops were brief, lips ghosting burning marks along her chest, a mountainous journey over the pillowy bosoms, a few licks against the pert nipples, and lower… down … snaking over her torso to what he was truly after. “Breathe, baby,” Natsu teased at her halted, bated breathing. “Just look forward and watch.”

She sucked in a gulp of air and stared forward at the mirrored image of Natsu going down on her. It was strange to literally watch every move he made like a voyeur living through another’s body. Lucy’s fingers tightened their grip on his hair in anticipation as he spread her legs a little wider…

“Mmm,” he mused in thought on how to get the best angle. “Hold to me,” Natsu suggested, and before she could reply, lifted Lucy’s left leg, and rested it on his shoulder. “Perfect…”

Natsu dove right in, latching his mouth onto the moist folds he knew so well, humming at the quick squeak his girl couldn’t catch in time. But he knew from the pull on his scalp exactly what she was experiencing. He kept one hand on her raised hip, while the fingers of his other toyed around the edge of her wet opening. His tongue pressed and circled around her clit, sucking, palpating, interspersed with soothing flicks and long strokes to lap up the growing sap gathering in the area. He closed his eyes as he relished in the warmth oozing over his face from her beautiful sex.

Heaven help her, Lucy couldn’t stop staring at that mirror… her gripped fingers to his hair and nails digging into his shoulder for dear life from the seasoned oral ministrations that slowly undid her sanity. Just his tongue alone… but the teasing fingers… Oh! Oh— Her thighs clenched to the sides of Natsu’s head as she felt one, then two fingers slipped through her walls. Lucy’s body arched slightly, and head tilted back as those fingers began swiftly pumping.

“Natsu…” Lucy moaned softly through sealed lips. She could feel his grin against her flesh, hear the squishing sounds, and smell the light scent of her extreme arousal. Damn him…

In a race against time, Natsu pumped fast and hard while his mouth and tongue devoured Lucy’s sex and sanity with an intensity to rival any known battle for supremacy. Each passing second, drawing the heated coil at her core closer to snapping. Her legs trembled, yet clenched and stiffened as his fingers pummeled, bumping the swollen sex being driven to his knuckles reach. He could feel Lucy start unraveling and held firmly to her hip bone as the jerky spasms rocked her body in orgasmic euphoria.

“Stop, stop, stop—” Lucy clawed at his back and neck as she whimpered from the immense pressure boiling in her body, and radiant moisture pooled in her eyes. “Please… enough, Natsu my legs are gonna give out.”

After giving her pussy a few more licks to clean up the excess juices, Natsu finally obliged and put down Lucy’s leg, then stood up while still supporting her as she caught her breath. He licked around his lips and cleaned off his fingers. “Best lunch in the world,” he grinned.

“Oof!” Lucy playfully slapped his chest with a short laugh. “Not what I’d meant. And now I don’t have time to try on the rest.”

“Why not?”

Lucy started putting on her regular clothes. “We’ve been in here for too long, it’ll be suspicious.”

“Tch, then just buy all of it if you like them, cause I’m telling you they’ll all look great on you.”

She glared at him. “Fine, but after pulling that stunt, now you owe me lunch!”

Natsu shrugged and grabbed all the hangers of clothing. “Okay, since you’ll need your strength later.”

“Later?”

The widest seedy grin bloomed on Natsu’s face. “You’ll see…”

#nalu #sinfully nalu #prompt mirrors #nalu smut #nalu au #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu fan fiction #nalu fan fic #smut fic #fairy tail

[sandorcentral]

Welcome Home (Sandor x Reader, NSFW)

Pairing: Sandor Clegane x F!Reader

Summary:  It was requested I write a fic in an AU where Sandor survives Season 8 and is married to Sansa's seamstress, in which Sandor is reunited with his wife and things get..spicey. 

Wordcount:  2435

Rating:  Explicit

Warnings: canon divergence, swearing, explicit language, Sandor being mildly sexually aggressive, Sandor fucking BITES and I do not take criticism on this, me not writing dialogue for Sandor very well, size kink, cunnilingus, penetrative sex, unprotected sex. 

A/N:  I suck at writing for Sandor but this is only my first attempt.  Be kind, and comment if you feel so inclined. (:

Also I'll be reblogging this later with the AO3 link.

You'd tossed and turned all night.   Every night without Sandor by your side was fitful.  A generous quantity of wine before bed helped, just not enough. You had spent so many years comforted by your husband's warmth and sheer size that it just didn't feel right trying to find slumber without Sandor's arms wrapped around you, his warm breath and soft snores in your ear.  The burly mastiff that the Clegane house had provided as a wedding gift those years ago huffed and curled up behind your knees, attempting to provide you with the company you were so sorely lacking.  The pressure of the massive dog leaning into you was all that encouraged you to somnolence, as you imagined a much more substantial hound was providing you the warmth needed for rest.

***

The sharp clank of your door's lock shifting roused you instantly.  The mastiff sprang to its paws and a growl rose from deep in its chest, but a heavy gauntleted hand patted the creature's head and calmed it instantly.  "All right, you bloody mutt.  That's a good dog."  

It felt like a dream, hearing that deep rasp.  It had been a dream on so many occasions since Sandor left to accompany Queen Sansa on her visit to consult Bran in the Crownlands.  You'd slept so little the entire time he had been absent that it felt like a vision, suddenly seeing your husband's towering visage before you. 

After shoeing your mastiff into the hall, Sandor sat down heavily before you on the bed, and discarded his gauntlets upon the floor.  The moment you sat up he captured your face in large, calloused hands and kissed you with a ferocity that took your breath away.  His kisses could be harsh but his lips were soft, save for the fur around his mouth that tickled you.  For a lingering moment you wondered if this perfect moment was indeed just another dream.

With a low rumble under his breath Sandor pulled away, planting the softest kiss upon your forehead, before wrapping huge arms around you and folding you against his chest.  If there were seven heavens then this was indubitably one of them, surrounded by your husband's warmth, the light musk of his skin, and his fingers absent-mindedly stroking your bed-befuddled hair.  

  

"I was wondering if you were ever coming back," you jested quietly, turning your face up to meet Sandor's gaze.  Your chiding words were immediately punished by sharp teeth nipping at your lips, followed by a tender kiss where he'd now left a light red mark.  You clutched his thickly furred jaw in both hands, thumbs occasionally ghosting over his cheekbones, almost trying to convince yourself he was real.  

Sandor leaned back, suddenly looking lost.  He got like this sometimes, especially following any significant absence of you.  Originally you only saw this reaction out of him when you'd stroke or kiss the marred half of his face; you'd always loved pressing your lips to that downward-drooping brow.  It had bewildered Sandor for the longest, the fact that not only did you have no qualms about looking at him, you had no apprehensions about touching his melted skin.  An almost tranced expression overcame his face, his thumb stroking your cheek absent-mindedly as you moved closer to him.  

"I missed you," Sandor rumbled hoarsely, his wolfish gaze of his good eye dropping to your lips.  

"And I love you."

"Mm. Daft as always," Sandor grunted, with his tiny quirk of a smile, before kissing you once more with fervor.    

"I was going to offer you wine but you already taste like it," you chuckled against his mouth.  You had long since begun to associate the deep sugary flavor of red wine with Sandor's coarsely furred lips, and you were perfectly fine with that.  

"What the fuck else am I supposed to do on that ride back?  Besides.  The Broken King can afford Dornish red." 

"Don't call him that."  You gave Sandor the same puppy eyes you did when he casually insulted any of your acquaintances in the Stark family.  

Sandor snorted and suddenly you were being pushed back onto the bed.  "Quit your talking," he rasped.  "We've got lost time to make up for."   

You weren't about to argue with the huge man as his lips found your neck and he deftly undid the lacing of your dress until it loosened from your shoulders, revealing your chest and stomach to him.  Looking you up and down, Sandor absent-mindedly drew his lower lip between his teeth.  He looked hungry, not unlike the way he appeared when he was itching for a fight to start.  

More lacings came undone and more harsh kisses and bites ensued.  Sandor worked his way down your body, nipping at your collarbone then showing delicacy to your nipples - swirling his tongue around them until you shivered and tightened your fingers' grip in his hair.  You loved the fact that his hands were more than large enough to entirely encompass each of your breasts in his palms, and that his mouth was deft in his exploration of your body. 

It was not long before Sandor was wriggling your dress over your hips and discarding it upon the floor, before taking a moment to admire the form of his wife, drinking in your visage.  He had this way of smiling at you that didn't quite reach his mouth but the crinkles around his eyes betrayed that he was pleased.  He ran one large, rough hand down your side and over the sharp curve of your hip, before taking your knee and spreading you open before him.  

He kissed your inner thighs delicately, starting near your knees and moving closer and closer to your core.  His beard tickled you here and there but that was soon forgotten when his warm mouth reached your nub, his large tongue languidly lapping up and down your folds.  One calloused hand gripped the junction where your thigh met your hip, while the other tentatively stroked your entrance, gauging how ready you were.  

"Sandor, please," you breathed, and that was all he needed.  Two long, thick fingers slid into you, before curving upward in a come-hither motion, stroking the spot inside you that made your eyes roll back immediately.  His talented tongue swirling around your nub had you shuddering uncontrollably and tightening around his fingers, making Sandor sigh against you in satisfaction - a low noise that reverberated through your core and had your thighs quivering on either side of his head.  

Your fingers twisted in his hair, attempting to gather long locks away from his face the way he would for you when your mouth was full of his cock.  Gasps and mutters of his name fell from your lips as you felt shocks snaking up through your body.  His fingers quickened their pace, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, as he suckled at your nub like his life depended on it.  

For a moment you looked down at the tantalizing man between your legs, overcome with the fact that it was him you had managed to marry and that was pleasuring you, the Hound, that was exploring you so intimately.  Years of being together had never dulled this exhilaration; had never lessened the inherent excitement of being ravished by this notoriously huge, powerful man.  For a moment his "good" eye met your gaze; the other eye was too weighed down by his maimed, melted brow to see you at such an angle. 

"Sandor, I'm -"  Your voice cut off suddenly, unable to process the amount of sensation coursing through you. 

In response he slipped a third finger into you, at which point you were certain he was not simply enjoying playing with you, he was getting you ready.  "Go ahead."  His rasping voice rumbling against you, and the sudden crook of his fingers inside you against that special spot was all you needed.  You tightened your grip in Sandor's hair and cried out as stars burst behind your eyelids, your back arching up off the bed.  

A fewmioments and Sandor sat up as you lay quivering and spent, wiping your moisture from his lips and beard.  His eyes were dark with lust, and he was breathing nearly as hard as you were.  

As you slowly came down from the high that his ministrations provided, you had the pleasure of watching Sandor stand and shed his layers.  He was quite adept at undoing his own armor, the result of having never accepted a squire, swiftly leaving him in the loose small-clothes that were your honor to remove.  You sat up, still remarkably shaky in the legs, and took the hem of his tunic in your hands.  You laid a kiss upon each section of your husband's flesh that you revealed, savoring the soft tickle of the dark hair that covered the expanse of his broad chest and abdomen.  

Tunic removed, you graduated down to the buttons of his trousers, teasingly avoiding the swelling you encountered.  Your husband's arousal was no small thing to avoid - to your original intrigue and dismay, you had discovered Sandor was exactly as well-endowed as one would assume a man of his stature might be. You kissed the deep brown fur from his collarbone to his navel, while your hands worked on freeing him from the confines of his trousers.  

Cloth slipped over his hips and Sandor sighed in relief, his stiffened length no longer uncomfortably restrained.  You began laying adoring kisses on your husband's stomach, following the thick trail of brown curls from his navel to his root.  A low rumble worked its way out of the huge man as you placed more kisses on either side of his cock, his warm shaft just barely grazing your cheek.  

"Enough," Sandor growled, taking a handful of your hair, and once again you found yourself being gripped by the shoulder and pushed back onto the bed, though with more fervor this time.  He crawled onto the bed after you, a hungry, predatory gleam in his eyes as he moved atop you.  

Sandor clutched your face in both large hands, resting his forehead against yours.  His breath was hot on your face and his  warm member slid back and forth over your entrance, his leaking length heavy and rubbing against your nub.  You squirmed a little in anticipation beneath Sandor as his tip sought your entrance.

Sandor's lips found yours again before he leaned into you, the weight of his body driving his cock home.  You gasped sharply, all of you tensing as he filled you suddenly and nearly to the hilt, your fingers tangling frantically in your husband's llong hair. You couldn't blame him - he was desperate, he needed to be one with his wife after all this time, but that didn't change the fact that in his urgency Sandor was forgetting you might need some extra time to adjust to him after all these moons of his absence.  

Sandor drew back, his lips exploring from your jaw to your ear. Your nails dug into his shoulders and you yelped as he bottomed out in you with the next thrust; he still wasn't even buried to the hilt.  With a few insistent strokes the burn of him stretching you began to fade, or it became easier to ignore when Sandor filling you to the brim was sending shocks resonating through your core.  

If you really needed convincing to ignore the short-lived pain of his entrance, Sandor sank his teeth into the side of your neck, distracting you with a sensation he knew you responded well to.  The bite was sharp but sent a delicious, dull ache resonating through you as he held on, like a dog mounting its bitch.  You were fully aware that this would be a blue or purple bruise tomorrow, the way his teeth were baring into you, but you didn't care.  In fact the prospect excited you particularly.  Few things satisfied you as much as visible reminders that you belonged to the Hound - it was your honor to wear the marks of the Clegane dog claiming you, branded in your own misplaced blood.  Perhaps one day that honor would be worn as a swollen belly full of Sandor's pups.  

You wrapped your legs snugly around his midsection, allowing a less overwhelming angle as his pace began to pick up rapidly.  What had been relatively methodical strokes were now frantic and restless, eliciting gasps and shrill moans from you every time Sandor's cock came up against that wall deep inside you, sending tendrils of sharp pleasure up through you.  Your eyes rolled back in your head and the rest of the world began to drop away, nothing existing in that moment but your union with Sandor; the musk of his skin surrounding you, the tickle of his dark helical strands falling around your face, the breath-taking sensation of him filling you relentlessly.  He was absolutely intoxicating.  

The force of his rutting eventually sent you over the edge again, and you cried out frantically enough that you stuffed your own fist into your mouth with celerity.  Sandor immediately grasped your wrist, holding your hand captive above your head.  "No," he snarled, gripping the hair of the back of your head, "let them hear what I'm doing to you."  Undoubtedly referring to adjacent rooms in the castle.  You whimpered against Sandor's furred lips, unable to control your body tightening around him convulsively, drawing from him his own climax.  Sandor took your throat between his teeth with a low snarl as he suddenly spilled into you, his warm seed filling you to the point of overflowing.  

You kept your legs tightened around your husband's waist as he loosened his teeth on your flesh and rested his damp forehead against the swoop of your shoulder. You were unwilling to experience the absence of him within your body just yet.  Sandor's cock still pulsed and twitched, his breath ragged on your neck, as your insides milked the last few drops out of him. 

A small whine escaped you as Sandor withdrew slowly, settling beside you on the bed and collecting you to his chest.  You nuzzled against the soft curls of his collarbone and gently entwined your legs with his.  "I love you," Sandor rumbled sleepily, resting his chin atop your head.  

"Welcome home, love."  You laid a languid series of tender kisses beneath his jaw, though Sandor was already snoring softly, arms still clasped solidly around you.  You smiled against his chest, and it wasn't long until you fell into the only peaceful sleep you'd found in fortnights.  

#sandor clegane x reader #sandor clegane #sandor the hound clegane #sandor clegane x you #sandor clegane x oc #i cant believe it took me like a month to write this #LEMON

[hotdamnhunnam]

Shades of You

A/N: Here’s the next in this ‘Kutte Too Deep’ series of flashbacks set in the AU of Kutte to Black! These fics can be read as standalone one shots or as part of this ‘KutteVerse’. This one is just a short ficlet of fluffy smut about you being Jax’s muse and the two of you having hot passionate sex outdoors…

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, a fuck in the park (it’s a secluded little spot of greenery – no one else is actually watching but they could be in theory)

Word Count: ~1.2k

“Babe, can you do that again?”

You glance up from the book that you were just about to begin. In these few weeks since you and Jax became a thing, you’ve spent the better part of all day and night fucking, though you pause from time to time to take his Harley for a ride or something. Head off someplace far from all the dusty streets of Charming. Pack a picnic so that you can spend a lazy afternoon feeding each other grapes and talking. 

For today’s outing Jax also packed a notebook, as he told you that he’s recently been bursting with a surge of inspiration for the novel he’d spent years struggling to write. Apparently just finding the right muse was all it took. He wants to churn out a whole chapter sitting in this park with you, admiring the sunlit view. Promised he’ll let you read his work after he treats you to another epic fuck later tonight.

Meanwhile you’re reclining on this big plaid picnic blanket with the paperback you’d packed, to catch up on some summer reading. But your badass biker boyfriend seems determined to distract. You’re not sure what he means by what he asked—‘do that again’ when you’re not doing much of anything—you’ve literally just been breathing.

From where he’s sitting on a rock nearby with his manuscript spread across his jean-clad thighs, Jax catches the confusion in your eyes. And so he clarifies. “The way you blinked real quickly twice. It was just really nice. Your lashes looked like butterflies.”

Oh Jesus Christ. He’s so fucking adorable, it’s honestly deplorable. You swoon and giggle, playing into it a little. Batting your lashes theatrically and shooting him a sultry look. Still have no clue, just what he sees in you, and yet somehow his every move makes you believe you’re the loveliest thing in the world. “Now if I didn’t know better, Mr. Teller… I’d think you were sketching me rather than writing a book. Draw me like one of your French girls.”

He laughs sunny and bright, shaking his head at your reference to the tear-jerker the two of you just watched the other night. Never did Jax Teller think he would spend a weekend getting all sappy romantic. Asking his girl if she wanted to cuddle and stay up late watching Titanic. 

“Hey, I’d take any excuse to get you naked...” your tall blonde prince charming admits as he sets his notebook aside and strides across the grass to join you on the blanket, “but I promise I’m not a nude lady artist. Just an aspiring writer in love with his muse and everything inspiring about her because she’s the hottest.”

Jax brings his big strong body down to yours and then blesses your lips with a soft kiss to prove that he’s honest. Pulls back to adore you with his gaze of blue. “You’re in everything I do. I see the world in shades of you.”

Fuck—every word that he breathes is a sonnet. This love is a drug, and you’ll live and die riding high on it. “You’re corny as fuck and I love you.”

Grins darkly and grinds the stiff bulge of his cock against your crotch as he knows how badly you want it. “I’m horny as fuck, too.”

“Mmm, what else is new...”

Without words, with the crush of his summer-lush lips against yours, he replies though you already know this is true: Everything is shiny and new when I’m with you.

Every damn time feels like the first. Everything blurs, present and future ever fading into past. The thrust of untold fate—the rushed soul-crushing weight, the fucking curse—compels you both to take each time like it’s the last.

The man in him loves smooth and soft and full of slow sensuous passion. But the beast in him moves rough and hard and fast. The fucking sex god that is Jackson. Barely even needs a second or a fraction, for his huge cock to get rock solid once he is at half-mast.

Moan into his mouth at the feeling of his denim-covered length. Rubbing against the flimsy fabric of your skirt, so hard it hurts. His hand caresses your cheek, giving you the strength, to take this love that makes you weak. Love beyond words. Your tongues were made to tangle up and taste the truth too big to speak.

Sometimes he says it anyway, though you both know he means more than the words could ever say. Says it a thousand times a day.

“Love you so fucking much,” he murmurs and the love tastes so delicious, in the blissful midst of kisses, as you melt beneath his touch.

Jax’s hand wanders from your face down toward your chest, shape of his grip made for your breasts. Beat of your heart rewrites the lines across the palm to which it’s pressed. His other hand is frantically unfastening his fly, then hiking up your skirt with a firm squeeze against the slick flesh of your inner thigh. So pleased yet not surprised to find that you’re already a wet mess. Both know there’s no one else nearby... no witness, other than the sky... but still out here it seems safest, to free his meat and push your panties to the side but otherwise stay dressed.

And so he does and wastes no time driving in deep until his dick hits home inside your soaking hole. So deep it hits your fucking soul. Hits every time and it’s the motherfucking best.

Something so blessed... has to be cursed. You think that way sometimes and it’s the fucking worst. Like fate is twisting you to tempt the pearly gates ahead and this is just a test. 

But when his hips are thrusting perfectly in sync with yours... his throbbing cock pounding and plowing through your pussy till it bursts... there’s nothing else on earth that matters—nothing else in all the universe... just ride this crest of pleasure, high together, as you crash the pearly gates until they shatter, and to hell with all the rest.

Sun spreads its golden heat and sheds light through the overhanging tree. So long content to shine upon this rock that orbits in its gravity—yet seething now in envy—so enraged at the eclipse, the air you’re breathing off his lips, the fire in his fingertips, so hot and heavy—heavenly. He is the only sun you’ll ever see.

The sun and shadow all at once. Heaven is here on earth yet someday hell will come claim what it wants. Can’t beat it back. But you don’t have to when he’s buried in your cunt. Beneath the shade of Jax, all else just fades to black.

You see the world in shades of him. Just as he does of you.

You love him, as he loves you, and you’ll make this love until the jealous sun burns out above you... even if it tempts the other stars to take it from you.

***************

Hope you enjoyed this and would love to hear if you did! 🤗❤️

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#jax teller #sons of anarchy #soa #charlie hunnam #jax teller smut #sons of anarchy smut #soa smut #charlie hunnam smut #jax teller imagine #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #charlie hunnam imagine #jax teller fanfiction #sons of anarchy fanfiction #soa fanfiction #charlie hunnam fanfiction #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam x you

[joannasteez]

Hey!! So, I have an idea. Could you write a fic about EZ and the reader’s wedding night? With smut of course 😏. I feel like he’d be so sweet and he’d be giving so much praise. You’re a wizard at combining fluff and smut, so I know you’d do amazing with this! Sending you lots of love 😁🥰

Short Summary: You and EZ turn in earlier than planned from your wedding reception.

Gif Credits @losaslut

Taglist: @my-rosegold-soul @appropriate-writers-name @est1887 @xladymacbethx @blessedboo @brownsugarcoffy @elektriknachosss @queenbeered @sesamepancakes @superhoeva @witching-hour @noz4a2 @withmyteeth @rae-gar-targaryen @cruzwalters @rose-bliss @youlovetkay

𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄, 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒

It was a quake in his belly, ravenous, spreading wild and untamed, free, like fire, just a hairs breadth away from desperation. Starvation. It was hunger, jolting tingles prickling, crackling the tips of his fingers, an electric feeling of desire, need. He knew then, knows now, in his soul he’s got to have it, reach out to it, grab at it. Hunger, it’s a shift in his breath, his whole life stuck on the upturn of an inhale but now, finally, feeling free enough to fall, to breathe. And then without wait, breathe again. The body, his body, aches for it --always has-- needs it, this little thing called love. Craves it, so much so that it trembles, forlorn in the way that it lays, stands, sits, exist, till it has it. Till he has it. Has love. Till he can touch it, hear it, smell it, feel it, taste it, hold it gentle in the palm of his hand because... 

“Remember Ezekiel, love is a vulnerable thing, don’t waste it”. Felipe’s voice always so mellow and coarse. Reminiscent. “Don’t waste it son, don’t waste it”. 

“Can you go three weeks without me Reyes?” You were such a damn tease, even if he could hate you he wouldn’t. 

He felt like a madman for saying yes. Just a heel - toe away from insanity. 

Three weeks of sweet faint kisses, the taste of your lips ghosting, melting no where else but the very tip of his tongue, and barely felt touches, like a breeze born at dawn too busy moving, flowing, to cascade along the leaves that live for its graceful feel, all because you wanted him needy for you. Hungry. 

He couldn’t say “I do” fast enough. “Lets get out of here”. His whisper breathy and warm at your ear. Feet shifting with his, fingers in each others embrace, dancing beneath a chandelier sky. 

You’d said “I do” so perfectly. The phrase rich off your lips, dripping like honey, so bright, warm and embracing, a promise. Like some sweet summer melody. It was heavenly. 

“You still with me?” The question just above a whisper, your fingers ruffling aimlessly through the hair at his chin. 

“Of course”. 

“What were you thinking about?” His lip becoming the object of your thumbs affection. The rosy pink flesh so demanding to the eyes, tantalizing. 

“How much I need you”. 

But it’s a painful longing Ezekiel has, burdening him more than he’d ever be able to tell, one that aches well and deep at the heart of him, melting away bone and wearing the strength of his nerve, leaving him open to the air of you, raw and helpless, but it’s good all the same. He’s weak in love. It’s exhilarating nonetheless, the type of yearning he works tirelessly to sate but begs also never to leave him for fear that he would never feel so wholly, so deeply for another this way again. Finding such pleasure in this love stricken pain, he realizes as he stares into your eyes, only you could do something like this, possess him to feel such an adoration for the way you weaken him. And the silk dress helps him none, the soft white fabric draped along your body drawing him in, persuading his fingers to ruffle beneath, the dig of them measured as they stretch over your thighs, inching towards the sweetest place he knows. 

His gaze never leaves you, the straps of your dress slim and dainty as you slip them away over your shoulders. 

The shake of his head is a mixture of wonder and disbelief. How were you so beautiful, and he so lucky? “Goddam”, he whispers, the white lace accessorizing your skin calling him, pleading for his strong, gentle touch. 

You slip easy into his lap, the end of the plush bed dipping. 

Your lips feather over his, breath as soft as your caressing hold along the sharp edge of his jaw. So close you could taste him. “I know how much you love me in lace”. 

He groans, placing a hand at your back before he turns to lay you at the heart of the bed. Present himself properly your beauty. “You’re incredible. So perfect”.

Drowning, after three weeks of nothing you’re neck deep in a passion far too great just to be your own, the faint taste of champagne running fresh, swirling on your tongue from his. Three weeks, and finally, he gives you a breathless kiss. Deep, demanding, and addictively unbearable in a way that makes you want to fall into it, wander into the heart of it till you’re lost forever. But what does it all mean?, to be so unearthed in this moment, to fall and fly at the same time? Delve face first into heaven and earth, what else does it mean if not becoming weak in love too.

“I missed you”, his lips lazy at the lace dressing your breast, tongue drawing slow till they’re twisted hard and aching, but he doesn’t stop. Of course he doesn’t, because when has Ezekiel ever given up the opportunity to tease you? Cause your body such an alluring grief. “I missed this”. Wet kisses swirling and melting into your skin till he’s suckling hard at your lace covered slit, wetness pooling in an instant. “She missed me too”, he chuckles, before it slips into a moan at the roll of your hips. Rosy lips traveling, mapping the underside of your thighs. His eyes blown, glazed over with want as they peer into yours. “You’re so pretty baby”, a small kiss to the peak of your right knee. “So beautiful”. Another just above your navel. “All mine”. 

“You can stare and admire me later. I need you now”, you fight the whine threatening to wrap smooth over your words. Fingers reaching for him, wanting him close. 

He’s at your ear in seconds, the weight of him pressed well into you, hand strong as he takes one of your legs to wrap secure around him. “How do you want me hermosa?. Tell me”. 

“Slow. Make love to me”

He’s moving like the earth has stopped so generously for this moment, calloused fingers relieving you of all the beautiful lace like you’re some precious gift, and then his bottoms are gone, clothes forgotten like everything else that isn’t you. If nothing else in the moment, it’s his sudden affinity for patience that’s most agonizing, but deep down you know you deserve it, leaving him touch starved for three weeks was a bit low. But even patience, with the right touch, wears thin quick, the heel of your left foot settling at the base of his back, both legs now warm at his waist. It’s the creeping roll up his spine that gets him, like a call to action, a firm hand that makes him fall to you with a fluidity, such grace in motion you haven’t seen in weeks. ‘Again... three weeks... why’d you make him wait?’, the small pieces of you wonder, till he’s sinking in hard, hot and thick inside you. 

“That’s it”, he encourages. Reveling in your tight fit, utterly dazed in the way it satiates the heat reddening his skin. “Let me in baby”. Another groan escaping all drawn out into the hot skin of your neck when he bottoms out. 

“Oh fuck”. Your moan slurred in that delirious way. Eyes daring to roll, your jaw clenched, hiss smooth sailing out and into the air. 

He’s moving slow like you asked him, but his hips are digging deep, really giving you the type of passion that glazes your eyes, ears heating, whimpers broken as your fingers press into him. He’s as close as can be but you need him closer, but you’re not really sure what you’re looking for with your fingers, what you’re digging for. Maybe some grounding? Yeah, that’s what it feels like. That’s what shuddered breaths and parted lips tell you anyways. ‘You need grounding’, because he’s determined to imprint himself inside you, mold you to him, make your tight heat recommit him to memory till it’s unrecognizable where you end and he begins. 

He’s heavy, within and without, a strong, uncompromising force rocking into you so perfect every time. Your wetness pooling with every filling push of his hips, sounding sweet. “You make me feel so full baby”. 

He’s fluid still, the delicious grind he works into you at a steady pace. Thats it, that’s it, that’s it, a mumbling chant parting off his lips, close to yours. They meet and fall off your own, tongues slipping lazy, coming together with every push of his length, walls slick and warm as they hug him in, pulling and sucking so fucking good before his waist rears back, lips breaking for just a moment, before he’s home again. Your foreheads are a resting place for the other, right hand of yours meeting his chest, the other nailing gentle at the nape of his neck. “You’re always so good to me”. He’s at your ear again, whispers soft, but still ringing so loud, your thigh gripped in his left hand, his body anchored on the weight of his arm at the right, the digging turned into a brute snap. “So good for me”. His hearts pounding hard, matching the beat of yours, you feel it, like thunder under your touch. “Fuck”, the slim ring of golden brown in his eye meeting yours. “I’m never letting you go”. 

A tear slips slim off to the side of your cheek, pressure in your belly building strong. “I love you EZ”. 

He thinks it’s enough, hearing it the one time. It rises, saturates his skin, breaks him down, builds him back up, makes him whole, and then it dissipates. He needs it again. “Say it again. Tell me you love me”. 

You hold him close, lips brushing. It’s sweeter this way, always has been, always will be. “I love you baby, I love you so much”. 

A tear and a whimper, but it isn’t yours. Another kiss brushing your lips, thigh tight in his hold. “I love you so fucking much”, trembling between the gentle intensity of another whimper and the soft sincerity of a whisper. Either way, it’s truth all the same. 

His hips rear back again, hitting once, twice, and then a third final time. The coils winding in your bellies unraveling sharp. Bodies burning in white hot bliss. 

Falling and flying face first into heaven and earth. It’s amazing. 

#ez reyes #ezekiel reyes #ez reyes x reader #ezekiel reyes x reader #mayans mc #soft #fluff #joannasteez

[tiffdawg]

Chaste | A Din Djarin x Reader Fic

Gif: @bestintheparsec​

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: E | Warnings: NSFW - explicit sexual content, heavy petting, mutual masturbation, creampie, dity talk featuring Din’s bedroom voice. 18+ only.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted in my little poll yesterday! And thank you to @huliabitch​ for encouraging me to write this. This is just something I wrote in between final papers. I don’t want to try to fit it into the current timeline so let’s just say this is sometime in the future well after Din decides to keep the kid. No spoilers for season two. No backstory, no plot; just smut. We might need that to cope depending on how the season finale goes tomorrow...

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… . …

Chaste

Unsurprisingly, Din woke up hard. Again.

Your semi-conscious brain registered his erection pressing against even before you’d opened your eyes that morning. It sent a rush of heat straight to your core. Just as it had every morning for the past week. And despite the early hour, you knew he was awake. Gentle fingertips traced abstract shapes along your side where your shirt had bunched up in your sleep. His dizzyingly light touch sent chills across your skin, but at your contented hum, his hand slipped under the hemline.

In his tender explorations he found your breast. You shifted against him, rubbing your thighs together in a pathetic relieve the mounting pressure building within you. He groaned behind you. His fingers circled your nipple before pinching the now stiff peak. You gasped at the electric mix of pain and pleasure.

“I knew you weren’t sleeping,” Din rasped, voice still hoarse from sleeping, as he pulled you back tighter against his chest, calloused hand still cupping your tit.

“You started it,” you mumbled back. Your eyes blinked open as you looked over your shoulder at him to find him lazily smirking at you. “Good morning, my love.” 

“Morning, cyar’ika,” he greeted before touching his lips to yours.

What was supposed to be a chaste kiss before the two of you reluctantly roused yourselves from bed to start the day, quickly became heated. Your lips slid against his and your tongues urgently explored each other’s mouths, seeking the familiar pleasure you’d been denying each other. Din deepened the kiss and your body yielded to his as he rolled you onto your back. You carded your fingers through his dark locks, pulling ever so slightly and eliciting quiet gasps from your partner.

Moving without thinking, your legs wrapped around his waist and you ground up against him, searching for even the slightest hint of friction where you needed it most. Spurred on by your actions, Din reached around you, his rough hand grabbing your ass to hold you in place as rolled his hips in time with yours. A matching pair of sighs resounded throughout the small room at the hint of relief.

But it still wasn’t enough. Not when you wanted each other this badly.

“Whose bright idea was it not to have sex again until we’re married?” Din asked in between messy kisses.

“Mine,” you admitted begrudgingly.

... . ...

“Will you marry me?”

Din’s words, delivered softly and without preamble, pierced your heart even before you could process the simple sentence. You flicked on your ship’s autopilot, letting your old astromech take over, and turned to him. You found him watching you carefully.

You paused to admire him and the little foundling sleeping against his chest, needing to remember everything about that moment for as long as you lived. You didn’t have to think about your answer; the two of them had stolen your heart years ago. “Yes,” you replied easily with a smile, “of course I will.” 

Din beamed at you. You crossed the small cabin to perch on the armrest of his seat. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he quipped as he leaned in to kiss you, careful not to disturb the baby.

“I was wondering if you were ever going to ask.”

“I know. You’ve been patient. That’s not like you,” he teased.

“Shut up before I change my mind,” you threatened playfully even as you pressed a kiss to his temple. “How exactly does a Mandalorian marry?”

“The riduurok is a simple exchange of vows. We can...” –he swallowed hard­– “we can do it right now.”

“Now?” you exclaimed. You grimaced as the baby stirred. Din adjusted his blanket and he settled down. He turned back to you with a raised brow.

You’d been through so much together. Loved each other for so long. Really, marriage vows were just a formality. Nothing would change. But it didn’t feel quite right. Something was missing.

“On my homeworld a marriage is something to celebrate. It’s kind of a big deal.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I­ haven’t been back in years but I always imagined getting married at home and celebrating with my family. At the very least I always thought I’d take you home to meet them first. I guess that’s stupid,” you shook your head, trying to banish the thought. You had bigger priorities.

“No, it’s not,” Din said firmly. “I– I don’t have that. I’m glad that you do.”

“We can still say our vows in private. Just the three of us. But it would mean the world to me to share this with them.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Then we’ll go as soon as we can.”

“Thank you,” you said around a smile before eagerly sealing your mouth to his.

He made a happy sound before speaking conspiratorially against your lips. “Let me put the kid to bed and we’ll start celebrating.” 

A cold heat ran through you at the insinuation. “Shit,” you cursed.

“What’s wrong?”

“How long do you think it’ll be before we can go to my planet?” 

Din shrugged. “It’ll be at least a month before we can make it to the Tashtor Sector. Why?”

“Well,” you started hesitantly, “it’s tradition for couples not to have sex once a marriage promise is made. Not until the wedding night.”

Din’s head hit the back of his seat as a long exhalation escaped him. “Anything else I should know about?” he grumbled.

“Nope,” you chirped, stifling a laugh. “I mean there’s a whole bunch of other stuff, but that’s the only thing that’s actually important.”

“Of course it is,” he grumbled with a shake of his head as he leaned forward. Except he paused just before his lips touched yours. “Am I still allowed to kiss you?”

“Yes,” you laughed. His mouth matched with yours and when you parted, he was smiling again. He rested his forehead against yours, an unbroken habit from the early days of your relationship, and you felt the weight of your new situation settle between the two of you. “Think you can last that long?” you teased. 

“Can you?” he challenged with a tilt of his head.

“You couldn’t go a whole month without this pussy,” you whispered, hoping to get a rise out of him.

“I’m a Mandalorian.” He said it stoically as if that was an explanation in itself. “You’ll be begging for my cock by the end of the week, cyar’ika. Just like you were last night.” 

“We’ll see about that, Mandalorian.”

... . ...

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. And a month seemed perfectly reasonable. You were wrong. It was supposed to make the night of your marriage special, but so far all it was doing was frustrating the hell out of both of you. Every night you slept next to him unable to touch him like this was fucking torture. You trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck in silent apology.

“How the fuck are we supposed to wait two more weeks?” He asked though heavy breaths, not expecting an answer. Normally, you were the wild spitfire that countered his cool demeanor, but at that moment – cheeks flushed, chest heaving, hair mussed – he looked absolutely wrecked. “I wanna bury my cock in you right now.” 

“I know you do,” you panted. “I want you inside me. Want you to fill me with your cum so bad.”

“Yeah?” He fumbled with your shirt that had twisted around in your sleep before hiking up your sleep shirt. His mouth latched onto your breast so he could kiss and suck and bite your breasts, marking the tender flesh as his own as he continued to rock against you. “You want that?” 

“I miss the way you make me feel so full. The way it drips out of me.” Your cunt clenched around nothing and your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you tried to control your desire. “I need it,” you whined instead.

“I know you do.” He raised his head from your chest to look at you. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me.”

“Oh, Din,” you mewled, practically on the verge of tears. 

“Are you as wet as I think you are?” He leaned back on his knees to reach a hand between your bodies. He smirked, his brows lifting in amusement, as touched you through your panties. You were drenched. “Take it off.”

“What? What are you–” You placed your hands on his broad shoulders to stop him as he repositioned himself between your legs and covered your body with his. “We shouldn’t–”

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he said as he pulled his briefs down just enough to release his cock, hard and leaking already leaking. “But I am going to fill you. Just like you need.”

Your chest caved in and a broken, pathetic whimper escaped you at his admission. “Really?” 

“Can I?” he asked, brown eyes practically beseeching you. He was always so polite even in moments like that. Even after all that time together.

Your hold on him softened, hands moving to gently cradle his face. “Please, Din.”

He helped you strip. As soon as you were exposed to him, his thick fingers teased your folds, coating them in your wetness, before wrapping around his length. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Ready?”

You nodded and he notched the tip of his dick at your entrance. He started pumping himself, using your slick to lubricate himself.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried when you realized what he was going to do.

The feeling of his hand moving in between your legs as he jerked himself off made your head spin. You felt filthy and you fucking liked it. You arched toward him, hips angled to take more of his dick, but he stopped you.

“No, cyare. Not this time,” he whispered against your cheek. You squeezed his tip as your cunt contracted instead, earning a delirious moan from him. “I missed this pussy.”

You could tell he was close. After weeks of hardly touching each other, it wouldn’t take much. You ran your hands down his bare chest and across his soft sides before gripping his hip, hoping to encourage him and hold in place as he neared his climax.

Eyes squeezed shut and teeth bared, he came with a shout. You felt him cum spurting inside you as he filled you. He continued to stroke himself, drawing out his orgasm as long as he could even as his spend started to leak out.

“Touch yourself for me,” Din demanded gently, placing light kisses on your face. “Wanna watch you cum.” 

He pulled out and leaned back just as your hand replaced him. Watching him watch you sent a fresh wave of arousal to your center. With a devilish smile, you gathered the cum dripping out of you and swirled your fingers around your throbbing clit. Din groaned at the sight. Two strong hands gripped your thighs and spread your legs further as his eyes locked on your cunt.

Every muscle in your body seemed to tighten as you played with yourself, your own climax was right behind his. But just as you were about to cum, Din grabbed your wrist and removed your hand. The noise he made was practically a growl as he leaned down to spit on your pussy.

“Oh fuck, Din!” you shouted, body keening off the bed. When he finally released your hand, you rubbed furiously at your clit, eased by the mix of his cum and saliva.

“That’s it. Cum for me.”

Your vision blacked out before an array of stars burst behind your closed eyes as your orgasm tore through you. Pleasure clouded your mind, but you could hear yourself chanting his name like a prayer.

When you fell back against the bed, Din collapsed half on top of you, his cheek pillowed on your chest. “Fuck, that felt good,” you sighed. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both caught your breath. “But I think that might be considered cheating.”

“No,” he insisted, “Just... bending the rules a little.” You both laughed and he held you a little tighter. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“So you can finally fuck me again?”

 “No.” He shook his head. “So I can be your husband.” You felt him smile against your skin. “And so I can finally make love to my wife.”

... . ...

Forever Tags: @leo-moon​ @readsalot73​ @frietiemeloen​ @huliabitch​ @jerusomeeno​ @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann​ @scapricciatello​ @liadamerondjarin​ @pedropasscals​ @paintballkid711​ @mistermiraclee​ @honeyand-roses​

Story Tags: @softpedropascal​ @mindless--ramblings​ @disgruntledspacedad​

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #fic: chaste

[hollandsmushroom]

Hey babes, can I request a fic when Mob!Tom fucks the reader's brains out? Like it can just start off as smth slow and it gradually increase into smth rlly heated. Ps love your writing❤️❤️❤️

Word Count: 1128 I mean, its dirty filthy fun! Warnings: Smut

You sat in the corner of his office, your eyes trained on your phone but you were taking in maybe 40% of what you saw, your mind more focused on the burning of increased blood flow between your legs, your skin aching to be touched. Tearing your gaze from your phone you looked up, eyeing Tom through hooded eyes as the strands of your lashes blocked your vision ever so slightly. He was signing documents, his fingers gripping the pen tightly as he trapped his lip between his teeth, he looked delectable and you couldn’t help yourself.

“Tommy?” you spoke, your voice soft and almost undetectable but Tom’s senses were always attuned to you.

“Hmm?” he hummed, eyes looking up at you quickly before returning to his paper. “What do you need?” There wasn’t a moment's hesitation before you replied, spreading your legs slightly as you apple, exposing your likely soaked panties and slickened thighs.

“I need you, Tommy” you whimpered, body feeling like it was on fire without him even touching you, his gaze already doing so much to you. He pushed back from his desk, standing up and making his way to you, feet gliding across the carpet as he neared your spot on the couch. Falling between your legs, hands gliding up your thighs, reveling in the soft skin. Leaning in, his lips found your sweets spot at the juncture of your neck.

“Yeah, love? Where do you need me?” he growled, the noise emitting a whimper from you, the deep tones of his voice vibrating through your skin.

“Everywhere” you threw your head back in pleasure, the touch of his lips on your skin sending you crazy, your nipples pebbling through your shirt as you arched your chest into his, the buttons on his shirt digging into your sternum but you didn’t care.

“Here?” His voice was teasing as he cupped your heat, fingers parting through your folds, panties still preventing you from skin on skin and it was killing you, twisting your hips into his hand as you wanted more. More of everything, more friction, more pleasure, more of him on you, in you, against you. “So eager, aren’t you?” Tom’s voice was muffled as he kissed his way down your chest, sucking on your nipples through your shirt, teeth digging into the hardened flesh. His saliva making your white shirt see through, nipples now on full display.

“You look hot when you’re doing something illegal” you voiced as his head pulled from your chest, moving so he could nestle himself under your skirt.

“I was just signing papers, love” his lips were hot against the skin of your inner thigh, fingers looping into the crotch of your panties, pulling them aside, nails scratching lightly against the lips of your cunt.

“Yeah, and you’re a mob boss so it was probably illegal” your voice was breathy, weak at best as his tongue traced itself across every valley and fold of your pretty pussy. Without warning he wrapped his lips around your clit, teeth grazing softly over the food as he sucked contentedly, humming at how delicious you were, yoru juices starting to drip off of his chin. The textured muscle of his tongue felt like heaven on your clut, drawing you near the brink of orgasm, and even after you thought it couldn’t get any better he removed his hand from your thigh, pushing two digits into your dripping opening and curling the tips. His fingertips brushed against your g-spot as he continued to suck on your clitoris, you felt like you were burning, a lit firework at the end of its fuse and then it happened, your world exploded as your body engulfed in pleasure, thighs clenching around Tom’s head, but he pushed them away, not liking how they muffled the noise of your moans. His fingers kept thrusting in and out of you, tongue still lapping at your bundle of nerve endings until he was sure he had milked you for every ounce of your orgasm. He pulled away, eyeing your state, sweat on your brow prominent as your body heat rose with pleasure. Your chest rose and fell rapidly and your eyes screwed shut, trying to recoup from the wonderful strain of your climax.

His lips met yours, spreading your cum across your mouth as you kissed back, your slickness tainting your tastebuds with the flavor of you. His body rose from between your thighs, wrapping his arms around you he flipped you both over, lips still meshed together as you came to a perch on top of his thighs, a hard length pressed against your wet core. His shaft was against your lips, pressing at your entrance, his tip weeping with precum.

“When did you get your pants off?” You wondered aloud.

“Doesn’t matter” he whispered, grabbing handfuls of your ass and pulling you upwards, as his tip was aligned at your entrance before pushing down on your hip, forcing you to sink down onto his full length, stretching your walls as you felt a pleasurable sting, your body still oversensitive from your previous high. “Feel good, love?” Tom hums, mouth returning to your chest, biting on the now cool spit covered fabric that adorned your perfect tits.

“Y-yes Tom, f-feels so good” you stuttered, body not able to form words with the amount of pleasure that was coursing through you. Your thighs were shaking and tired, not able to continue the bounce on Tom’s cock for much longer and he noticed, sliding down a little on the couch until he could easily fuck up into you, balls slapping harshly against your ass with a delightful sting. His pubic hair was rubbing against your clit, drawing you to your second high very quickly, seeing as your body was already prepped from the previous one.

“Tommy, I’m close again” you whimpered, eyes closing as you sat down a little more, letting his thrust hit even deeper inside of you, his dick grazing the spot his fingers had fondled earlier.

“Cum for me, love, cum all around my hard cock as I cum inside you” his abs clenched under your touch, fingertips digging into the hard muscle.

“I'm cumming!” you cried out, throwing your head back as Tom held his forearm parallel to your spine, preventing you from falling backwards. Your walls spasming around him sent him over with you, his hot seed spurting into you, covering the walls as his dick spread it around with each thrust. When you were both thoroughly spent, you moved to get off of him but he pulled you into his chest.

“Not ready to let you go yet” he mumbled, burying his lips in your hair as you dozed off against his sweaty chest.

#mobster tom holland #mob!tom holland x reader #mob!tom #mob tom #mob!tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland blurb

[swissmissficrecs]

Favorite Sherlock Holmes fics from 2020

Usually I put a bunch of explanations and disclaimers on these lists but you know what, it was a weird year and I’m not going to try to justify or apologize for what I read or didn’t read so here are my favorites that were completed last year, in descending order of length:

and your very flesh shall be a great poem by CaitlinFairchild (151K, E, Johnlock) After a tragic confrontation with terrible consequences, Sherlock and John follow Mary as she flees to America.

Drawn to Stars by Silvergirl (107K, E, Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC) After the Culverton Smith case Sherlock is clean, working, and looking for a romantic partner—since John has told him that’s what he needs. Shame John didn’t mention he was interested in that role himself, before Sherlock went off to Rome with a gorgeous Italian copper to try to fall in love and become a complete human being. (This one is very slightly cheating because it was finished on 30 Dec 2019, but it didn't make it onto my 2019 list because I didn't read it until after I'd made the list. And it deserves to be on a Best Of list, so here it is.)

Thermocline by J_Baillier (83K, M, Johnlock) John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Do No Harm by Calais_Reno (79K, T, Johnlock) In 1923, Dr John Watson is on trial for the murder of his lover, Mary Morstan, a writer of popular mysteries. If convicted, he will hang. Sherlock Holmes sets out to prove his innocence, but finds himself more and more infatuated with the handsome doctor, and deeper and deeper inside the bohemian world of London's painters, playwrights, and poets. Will he uncover the evidence needed to acquit him in time?

To Be Human by ohlooktheresabee (78K, NR, Johnlock) There is a serial killer on the loose with a penchant for collecting the brains of his victims. Sherlock, John and Scotland Yard are on the case, but something about the chosen victims has Sherlock on edge. While they piece together the clues that will lead to the killer, John begins to realize that the way his best friend thinks may sometimes be more a hindrance than a help….

immediate and inglorious by simplyclockwork (72K, E, Johnlock) Bodies are showing up in back alleys, with no sign of a struggle, no trace of drugs. If not for the strangulation bruises on their necks and the scythe carved into their left shoulders, they could have died peacefully, in their sleep. With New Scotland Yard dumbfounded by the Grim Reaper Killer case, Sherlock is called in to consult. The more he investigates, the deeper Sherlock finds himself drawn into the work of London's newest serial killer. As his views of good and bad begin to blur, he risks losing himself to a darkness he never imagined. And, even more pressing: where does John Watson, grieving ex-boyfriend of the Grim Reaper's latest victim, fit into all of this?

Curtain Rising by tiger_in_the_flightdeck (61K, E, Johnlock) A disgraced television star is the target of a series of death threats just after a theatre production’s adaptation of The Sound of Music is announced with her as the lead. The suspect list is a mile long and growing, Rosie Watson is in the spotlight, and Sherlock might be getting too fond of his time on stage to focus on the case. With opening night approaching, can he and John figure out who wants their client dead before her final curtain rises?

The Fire Finds a Home by fearfully_beautifully_made (61K, E, Johnlock) After Sherlock and John decide to give having a relationship a go, this is how their relationship starts to develop. There a little bit of plot, if you squint, but it was mostly an excuse to write John and Sherlock having sex in a lot of different ways and learning to love each other.

Borrowed Ghosts by DiscordantWords (57K, M, Johnlock) In the aftermath of the Culverton Smith case, John spent one painfully stilted afternoon hanging out with Sherlock. He counted the minutes, finished his tea, and left for home without ever clearing the air between them. And once he'd left, he found it very hard to go back.

You Might Just as Well Be Blind by ArwaMachine (56K, E, Johnlock) When a serial killer starts targeting couples, Sherlock and John must do what they have to do in order to get to the bottom of things. Unfortunately, John already has a girlfriend. Surely pretending to be in a relationship with Sherlock won't pose any problems with his relationship, will it?

The Broken Tether by J_Baillier (54K, M, Johnlock) Maybe he thinks that you only enjoy his company because of the Work, because of the way his dazzling intellect shines when he's in his element, but the truth is this: it is when he is at his most human, most bare, that you feel closest to him.

how the light gets in by subtext-is-my-division (Quill_A)  (54K, E, Johnlock) Red wine always makes him tipsier than usual and he finds himself saying, the words slurring a bit. “You know, I’ve got to ask. Do you always shoot cabbies for people you barely you know?” John meets his gaze over the rim of his glass, and there’s something there that Sherlock can’t pin down. “Not for everyone,” he says, meaningfully, pointedly, his smile all teeth.

Erosion by saintscully (53K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock’s father falls ill, leaving the surviving family members broken and rudderless. James Sholto shows up in London unexpectedly, his intentions unclear. John has to navigate the consequences of crime, illness and death and their impact on his frayed relationship with Sherlock.

Hold You Like a Weapon by MissDavis (52K, E, Johnlock) Eurus shows up at 221B Baker Street in labour. Things go downhill from there.

Chances Are by Berty (51K, M, Johnlock) Sherlock is spending some time in his mind palace - so far, so normal. But why is John there, why do things keep changing and why are there only two exits from the sitting room at 221B, neither of which seem to go anywhere useful? It's a case like no other for Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

Sine Nomine by SilentAuror (45K, E, Johnlock) As Mycroft reviews the footage from Culverton Smith's morgue, he revisits his original question: whether John Watson would be the making of his brother, or make him worse than ever. He's come to a conclusion, but decides to give John one last chance. So he gives him a choice.

Cockaigne by HollyShadow88 (38K, E, Johnlock) When John’s contacted by an old uni friend about problems in his new art exhibition, he doesn’t think it will be worth Sherlock’s time. After a glance of the crime scene, however, they’re both pulled into the project in ways John didn’t expect. Will a week of erotic performance art finally be enough to bring them together in the way they both secretly hope? (Spoiler: it’s a tropey fic, of course it will)

Written in Ashes by 88thParallel (37K, M, Johnlock) Sherlock becomes the prime suspect in a homicide case, and recently unearthed memories of his childhood are complicating matters. It's up to John to track down answers — can he help Sherlock before it's too late?

A Desperate Indulgence by LollipopCop (34K, M, Johnlock) John thinks it's 2012 after waking up with amnesia, having no memory of Mary. Sherlock, exhausted from years of tension and hiding his love, pretends they got married instead.

Inhale With Ease by Vulpesmellifera (25K, E, Johnlock) In the years after Vivian Norbury's capture, life seems to work out just as John planned. He's got that respectable job at the surgery and goes home to his wife and child. He joins Sherlock on cases a couple times per week. It's a rhythm he can live with - just enough adrenaline highs to balance out the drudgery of a normal bloke's life. Until a pandemic, and Victor Trevor, arrive in London.

The House on Rue des Boulangers by Berty (24K, M, Johnlock) After being invalided out of the army and without any other prospects, John Watson has relocated to a small town in northern France. Now he has to decide what to do for the rest of his life. One morning there's a mad stranger in his garden chasing a swarm of bees, and it seems John's decision is made.

High Mountain Tea Leaves by disfictional (23K, E, Johnlock) A mountaintop robbery on a Japanese-occupation-era train where the only item stolen was a small case of mysterious tea leaves in a backpack? An ideal Christmas gift, two days late. Sherlock convinces John to travel for tea.

Detours by saintscully (22K, M, Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC) During the better part of the first year following Mary's death and the events at Sherrinford, Sherlock and John are slowly rebuilding their lives and their friendship. All seems (relatively) well and John takes comfort in once again being a father, a doctor and a friend. An unexplained shift in Sherlock's behaviour catches John by surprise, and he begins to worry about his place in his friend's life. John has to examine everything he thought he knew about Sherlock, himself and their relationship in order to win his rightful place yet again.

hands full of matter by simplyclockwork (21K, E, Johnlock) When Sherlock is captured in Serbia, Mycroft cannot afford to involve the British government in his rescue. Instead, he sends John. After two years spent thinking Sherlock was dead, John finds himself navigating not only Sherlock’s rescue but their fractured friendship as well.

The Victim Experience by J_Baillier (16K, T, Gen) A case takes Sherlock and John deep into the seedy underbelly of the haunted attractions industry. With audiences craving more and more intense experiences, is a real murder the next logical step?

On the Fence by BeautifulFiction (13K, T, Johnlock) The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence?

Plus bonus ACD era:

"Baker Street: The Sleep of Reason": A Memoir by John H. Watson, M.D. by Gaedhal (98K, M, Johnlock, Johniarty) This is a Victorian Era story in the "Sherlock Holmes" (2009) Ritchie-verse. The main characters are Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson and is from the doctor's memoirs. It was written before "A Game of Shadows" so there are differences in this story and film canon, mainly in the person and backstory of one particular character.

The Taste of Truth by sanguinity (25K, T, Johnlock) Two and a half years after Reichenbach, John Watson discovers the magical tree that caused Holmes to fake his death.

The Adventure of the Vatican Cameos by Garonne (18K, E, Johnlock) How should one behave when waking for the first time in the bed of one's dearest friend? Holmes and Watson solve a case in Catholic London while navigating the turbid waters of their new relationship.

Hot Water by wordybirdy (13K, E, Johnlock, Watson/Gregson) Dr. John Watson's libidinous affair with a respected Scotland Yard inspector abruptly judders to a halt when the former meets a certain Mr. Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective, for the very first time. The attraction between the two is strongly mutual, but misunderstandings only multiply and tensions abound, as all three men attempt to deal with the new situation.

#rec list #best