#naked and unafraid

[sohannabarberaesque]

Picture thou Peter Potamus and maybe a couple of choicest Polynesian wahine types drinking in a luscious-looking sunset such as this somewhere within Polynesia Uncharted, all the while unashamed of their nakedness.

#hanna barbera #memes #polynesia uncharted #polynesian sunset #polynesian fantasies #peter potamus #native polynesian experiences #naked and unafraid #hannabarberaforever

[kakashihasibs]

Had to give leia an emergency bath x_x she came home from the park muddy and icey x_x now I need an emergency shower x_x

#i straight just had to get naked and get in the tube with her x_x #she's such a scaried cat i had to hold her with one arm and use the other for bathing #and my husband just made sure she had a steady supply of peanut butter #i gave her baths as a baby but it didn't stick x_x #she was also super unafraid of the vet as a baby and she had to go a lot but right at 6 months she was done being brave #and all my socialization was for naught 😞 #at least the people socialization stuck x_x #she doesn't like dogs but she'll tolerate them #her name is leia

[roaron]

BEST FRIEND GOJO SATORU HEADCANONS

-> (SFW ver.). -> (NSFW ver. coming soon ?) -> (Teen Gojo)

Genre -> (Crack + Fluff)

———————————————————————————

- During your teens you, Gojo, Geto, Shoko, Nanami and Haibara used to visit the beach a lot, all together as one big happy family. You and Gojo would strip off your clothes to the bare minimum and run almost butt ass naked into the water as fast as you can. Screaming and laughing as you'd tackle each other into the wet sand and get seawater splashed into your eyes. Yelling at the burning sensation and hearing Getos chuckle from the beach mat and Nanamis grunt from his personal private sunbathing area. (Haibara is allowed entry obviously). Shoko just peacefully smokes pot on the side, unaware of everything thats happening.

- Gojo acts like he's unafraid of everything, but he isn't. You always call him to take care of bugs in your room. He comes in, chest puffed out and eyes shining. Till it starts flying and you hear his blood curling scream as he holds his head in his hands and pushes you to the side slamming you against a wall in an attempt to leave the room. When he sees you later in the infirmary with a dislocated shoulder he just turns around and pretends to not see you. A shit eating grin on his face.

- Neither of you had earphones for the longest time, so you just put the phones speaker in the middle of both of your faces when listening to music. Its extremely loud but you both don't give a shit. Heads swaying to the beat as a song with possible the most curse words in the world plays in both of your ears.

- During your teenage years you both used to run. Run away from it all, legs whipping against the wind, hand in hand. Hair flailing and tears threatening to fall. All you had was each other. Soulmates. You'd run and scream, leaving it all behind. Heart to heart, sprinting side by side. It felt like such a dream, he was running with you, his sunglasses about to fall of his head and his blue eyes collecting tears. Then as if as a sign, you tripped on the hill, and before you could tumble down and surely break a bone, Gojo grabbed you and held you in his arms as he went flying down with you secure in his grasp. When he finally slammed into a tree at the bottom, you looked up at him to see his face covered in scratches and that same silly smile plastered on his face.

- You'd both be quarantined after your running away episodes. Cursed to being put in separate rooms and staying there for ages. Unable to see each other. You would both giggle silently in your separate rooms. Tapping the wall to alert each other that you were still there, as you were literally next door to each other. Stupid idea by principle yaga but you both didn't complain. Till one night you went to sleep and woke up the next morning with Gojo lying beside you in bed, drool spilling from his mouth and snores that could be heard for miles. You turn your head to the wall that separated you and see a Gojo sized hole in it. He had smashed through the whole wall.

- As unusual as it may be, you both have baths together. Washing each others hair and making beards out of bubbles. Having long ass convos for hours till your skin turned all shrivelled. Then you'd share a massive towel and make a run for the dorms so principle yaga wouldn't catch you both being delinquents. Until Gojo steps on the towel and slips. Landing straight on his freshly washed ass. Naked in the middle of the hallway. You couldn't help but let out the loudest cackle as Nanami comes round the corner and immediately goes back the way he came at the sight of you on the floor laughing and Gojos body completely bare for the world to see.

- Then as the future came around and Gojo entered the classroom to teach his students, they finally question the shining white ring on his ring finger. He just smiles and shrugs them off, knowing that at home, you’re waiting for him. A black ring mirroring his own, sitting perfectly on your wedding finger. A symbol of the two of you.

———————————————————————————

#Spotify #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo hcs #gojo headcanons #teen gojo #gojo x you #gojo x male reader #gojo x gender neutral reader #gojo x female reader #gojo fluff #itadori x y/n #itadori x reader #megumi x reader #toji x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #jujutsu gojo #jjk

[buckyalpine]

Hey honey ! It’s 🐚 !! I have a request for you 🙈🥰 I love tough men that are assholes but turn soft for this one sweet girl ! And I was thinking Mafia Bucky and his rival’s daughter . He starts hooking up with her with every intention of her father finding out and being furious . But she’s none the wiser . She’s sweet and gentle with him even when he’s rough and rude . He always leaves the minute they’re done ,leaving her all alone and naked in her bed but she’s never bitter about it. After one particular night though , where they had sex in his place , she fell asleep , too worn out from Bucky being particularly rough . He took a moment to see her as something more than his nemesis daughter and he had to admit she was ethereal. Always sweet and kind . So much different than him and Bucky realized he might be falling for her . Especially with the way she was clinging to him in her sleep and how she never treated him like he was the bad guy . When he woke up she wasn’t there but everything changed after that night . The sex was gentler and so were his touches and kisses . He wasn’t just hooking up with her . He was making love to her without a word about this new change in their situationship . Until one night he had her in his arms , unafraid to cradle her cheek and kiss her forehead , telling her how he is in love with her and asking her to forgive him for the way he treated her

18+

Okay I’m dropping a bunch of WIPS for this. Bruh the request alone gave me butterflies I love this trope so much. Goddamnn. 

This starts with very fuck boy asshole type Bucky. I made him a dick in this, deal with it, don’t cry about it, he redeems himself. See how the request says men that are assholes. I live for it. Bucky. Is. An. Ass. Hole. And a sweet baby by the end. 

Also I don’t trust google translate but that’s what we have to work with, I am so sorry. 

“You’re making this harder than it has to be Stark” Bucky sipped his drink, leaning back in his chair while Tony’s jaw clenched, wishing he could just put a bullet in between his rivals eyebrows. Bucky swirled the whisky in his glass, the ice clinking against each other while Tony rejected his proposal again, tensions growing higher with each passing minute. 

“You’re not getting control over the South” He gritted through his teeth, ready to end the meeting one way or another until the door clicked open. You poked your head into his office, quickly padding over to his side, ignoring the broody men that surrounded the office. 

“Dad, I’m going out with Wanda, we’ll be back late, is that okay?” You never left the house without telling him where you were going first, it was a rule he made for you when you were younger but you stuck to it even years later. You knew he always worried about you. 

Tony frowned at your presence, not because he didn’t want you there but because he could see the other men stare at you, their eyes raking up and down your body like fresh meat. The dark material of your dress hugged your body perfectly and the thigh high slit wasn’t helping. 

“Be safe” He pecked your forehead before sending one of his men with you, “Barton, drive her there” He shot the men in his office a death glare; he was patient over many things but you were not something they could fuck with. Ever. Bucky cocked an eyebrow noticing Tony’s shift in demeanor, he was protective over his little princess. He smiled to himself with this new information, why fight for the south side when he could he could ruin something more precious. 

“This meeting is over” Tony stated, nodding to his men to escort Bucky and the others out. He narrowed his eyes at the way Bucky shrugged, casually downing his drink without making a counter argument, leaving a bit to easily for his liking. 

Bucky climbed into his SUV with Steve by his side, his mind going back to you. Tony’s sweet baby. His protected princess. Steve also frowned at the way his friend accepted defeat, but he didn’t ask questions, noticing the way Bucky bit his lip, the wheels in his head clearly turning. The fucker had something in mind.

“You’re thinking something, I can tell” Steve gave Bucky a pointed look while Bucky shrugged innocently, earning an eye roll from his best friend. 

“I need a drink” 

The Club

Bucky sat at the private booth of the club, his mind calculating how he could over throw Stark without having to get his hands too dirty. He already had one idea in mind but that was more to satisfy himself. It wouldn’t get him his territory but it would get him something...better...He sipped his drink, sitting up slightly, seeing a familiar figure across the club, his lips curling into a smirk. 

“Isn’t that her” Bucky’s eyes landed on you, watching your hips sway on the dance floor, laughing with your friends, completely in your own world. It couldn't have been more perfect, you were right there, practically served to him on a silver platter for him to take. 

“Who” Steve turned around to see who Bucky was looking at, his eyes growing wide when he realized who his friend was eyeing. “Starks daughter?”

Bucky nodded, setting his glass down, making his way over to you before Steve or Sam could say anything else. 

“Why is he not on a leash”

“I knew I should have gotten him neutered” 

The blonde shook his head, running a hand over his face while Sam snorted, both men watching him make his way over to you. You were now seated at the bar, sipping on some water to cool down while your friends stayed on the dancefloor. 

“Hey doll” Bucky sat on the stool beside you, both of you tucked away in the quieter corner of the bar area. He could tell by the way you smiled shyly, you’d be easy, a few flirty words and he’d get what he wanted. 

“Hi” You blushed at the handsome mob boss, his blue eyes sparkling as he smirked at you. He bought you a drink, luring you into him like a siren. You found yourself getting lost in his charm, listening to his velvety smooth voice. Truthfully it was nice to talk to someone for once. Most guys avoided you, knowing you were the daughter of Tony Stark. 

It was easy for him. His eyes flicked to the way you looked at his lips, inching closer towards him, your sweet innocent face gazing at him. He didn’t have to do much are you were already preening like a kitten. He had you exactly where he wanted. The air shifted when his hand grazed you thigh, the cold metal of his rings making you shiver. You didn’t pull back, letting his hand climb higher, leaning into his touch, your heart racing, craving more of him. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop” His voice was low, his lips brushing by your ear. Your breath hitched when his hand tilted your chin up to meet his eyes again, nearly whimpering when his hand squeezed the soft flesh of your thigh. 

“So needy” He smirked while you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, letting him take you by the hand to the private bathroom of the club. As soon as he locked the door, his previous charm dropped. His eyes darkened, his hands immediately all over you, pushing you against the marble counter of the sink. His lips smashed onto yours, tongue and teeth, not giving you a chance to breathe.

He sucked dark bruises on your neck, trailing the across your collar bone, pulling the front of your dress down to free your breasts. He lifted you onto the counter with ease, latching onto your nipple, tugging it between his teeth, smirking at the way you cried out. 

He parted your legs, ripping your panties off and stuffing them in his pocket. Your pussy dripped, clenching around nothing at the sound of his belt buckle and pants unzipping, moaning when he pulled your thighs to wrap around him, his cockhead prodding your entrance. He didn't bother prepping you, his mind focused on stuffing his cock into you and fucking you senseless. 

“Shh, better keep quiet unless you want others to hear how I’m about to fuck you” He growled against your skin, shoving his cock into you with one stroke. He gave you no time to adjust, snapping his hips against you, his hands gripping your ass while your hands flew to clutch around him, sinking your teeth into his shoulder to keep your screams down. He slammed against your g-spot, your arousal squirting out of you with each thrust, the coil in your belly building higher and higher as he fucked you harder. 

“I-I’m gonna-” You couldn’t formulate a sentence, clawing at his blazer, his cock filling and stretching you, ruining you for anyone else. “Please-

“Don’t-don’t talk, just take it” His voice was low, teeth gritted as he focused on ruining your pussy. You felt flustered, your body on fire each time he touched you. You felt yourself melt into him, letting him toy with your body. His fingers gripped onto your ass, slamming you into him to meet his strokes. He wanted to fill  you up till you were so full of cum, it’d drip and stain onto your bed sheets. All of his fucking cum painted on your pussy while you went to sleep, pretending to be an innocent little princess like you didn’t just take your dad’s rivals cock in the bathroom of the club. 

Your eyes rolled back feeling his cock stroke your g-spot, the roughness of his hands on your body making you climb higher, you clung onto him, your body pulled taut, a sob escaping your lips before muffling your cries by biting down onto his neck as you came. Bucky smirked to himself, pounding you harder, chasing his release. He didn’t even have to touch you and you were coming undone for him, wrapped tightly around his body, your pussy sucking him back in. 

He could feel pleasure crawl down his spine, his cock growing harder, something about getting to fuck his enemies daughter made him more feral than ever, his cock bursting with cum, endless thick streams shooting out of his sensitive tip.

“Fuck” he hissed, pumping his load into you, groaning as he pulled out, his cum dribbling out of you, spilling onto the sides of your thighs. You looked dazed, lipstick smeared, panting, your body limp against him. He tucked his cock back in, not looking back twice, leaving you a panting mess as he exited the bathroom. You stood on shaky legs, trying to steady yourself before grabbing a damp tissue to clean yourself up.

You splashed some water onto your face, your mind reeling over the way his touches made you feel, touching up your makeup before going back down to find your friends, his handsome face flashing in your mind throughout the night. 

***

“Can you explain what it is you’re doing here” Steve watched his friend carefully, his hair disheveled, shirt untucked, a lipstick stain on the collar of his shirt when he joined them again, a satisfied smirk on his face. 

“She’s probably a spoiled brat anyway” Bucky shrugged, unbothered about the type of person you were or how you felt about any of this. He wanted to see Tony’s face if he knew he had fucked his daughter, balls deep till she was walking around with sticky thighs, her soaked little cunt dripping all over her bed with his cum. He smirked to himself over the way you moaned for him, biting him to keep yourself quiet, the way your body responded to him, so needy and desperate. You were the opposite of your father; easy and none the wiser. If he couldn’t get what he wanted from Tony, he’d take the next best thing. It’s not like he wanted you. He just had to use you. 

The club wasn’t enough. Now he had you in his hands, he wasn’t going to let you go until he you were ruined. He used the meetings that took place in your house to his advantage, quietly sneaking off down the hall way to find you. Your heart jumped seeing him leaning against wall as you made your way to your room after eating breakfast. 

“Haven’t stopped thinking about me, have you” He smirked, cornering you against the wall, his chest pressed against yours. His hands came up to grasp your face, eyes locked with yours “You gonna let me cum in you?” 

You let out a shuddered breath, and that was all he needed, dragging you over to your room and tossing you onto your bed. 

“Take your clothes off” His cold blue eyes bore into you as you timidly unbuttoned your blouse, your hands shaking, already feeling exposed at the way he watched you. He wasn’t going to wait for you, striding over to the bed, his hands firmly gripping the material of your silky blouse, ripping it open, sending buttons flying onto the floor. His hands grabbed at the hem of your skirt, pulling it down before quickly tossed your bra and panties aside. 

Your face heated up at the way he slowly crawled on top of you, the scent of his cologne throwing you back to the way he fucked you at the club, pulling pleasure from your body so easily. 

“Please” Your soft eyes pleaded with his and his ego shot through the roof, getting to fuck you right on your bed. He nudged your thighs apart while marking you with his mouth. 

“Always ready for my cock” He hummed, smearing your slick around, shoving two thick fingers into you, curling and scissoring them till you were withering and nearly screaming, your arousal leaving your sheets wet. 

“James please” You looked at him with glassy eyes while he sat back, unbuttoning his pants, freeing his cock just enough so he could fuck you. He rubbed his cock onto your clit before shoving it into you, pounding you relentlessly as soon as he was fully sheathed inside you. 

Your body moved to wrap around him, your legs tight around his waist and arms clinging onto his shoulders. All you could do was moan and chant his name, his cock was practically in your throat, thrusting into you till your bed scrapped against the floor. His chest swelled with pride as soon as he felt your walls start to convulse and flutter, you were so responsive to him. 

“Cum, fucking cum on my cock” His hand snaked up to wrap around your throat, your pussy immediately clenching and throbbing around him, silent screams leaving through your slack jaw. His grunts grew louder, thrusting harder into you until he couldn’t hold back, determined to make a bigger mess than before. 

“Take it, fucking-take it, take my cum” He grunted, groaning as his hips stilled, staying as deep as he possibly could while he poured his load into you. His cum spilled out of you, soaking the sheets, your greedy sopping hole, still fluttering even after he pulled out. 

Perfect. 

You were still hazy, blinking when you felt his body weight off the bed, sitting up slightly to see him already making his way towards your door. 

“Oh-bye!”

Bucky clicked the door shut before you could even finish, leaving you bare and alone in your bed. You fell back against the sheets, your body worn and exhausted. You didn’t mind the soreness that you felt all over, sleep washing over you as you thought about his honeyed voice, those blue eyes, rough exterior. There was more to him even if he didn’t show it. 

It went on for weeks. You were his perfect little cum dump, taking load after load, whenever he wanted. Your room. The kitchen. On the floor. He almost found it pathetic, how easily you let him back into your warmth when he never looked back at your twice after. It didn’t matter though. He got what he wanted. 

Gala night 

You sighed, sitting by yourself while everyone else mingled with their respective groups, you’d never been a fan of parties but you didn’t have much of a choice. You had to make an appearance at the gathering hosted by one of your families allies though you didn’t understand why. No one had even noticed you. 

Well not exactly no one. 

Bucky’s eyes lingered on you as he watched you across the room from his table. You hadn’t spoken to a soul all night, nervously fidgeting with your fingers, sipping on you glass of wine, the red liquid staining your lips. You wore a dark green dress, your legs on display with the thigh high slit and the sweet heart neckline showing off your perfect cleavage. 

“Y/n” A son of your fathers friend wandered over, his hungry eyes flicking from your lips to your chest and up and down your legs. He noticed that you were alone, deciding to use the chance to get what he had been craving. He pulled up a seat beside you, sitting close enough so his legs brushed against yours. 

 “John” You smiled softly, internally wishing you had just stayed home. He had asked you out a number of times before and you always politely turned him down. Bucky narrowed his eyes at the blond who kept inching closer and closer to you, his hands trying to linger on your skin, lips whispering in your ear. 

“You look beautiful. Did anyone accompany you?” He knew the answer but that didn’t matter. You shook your head and he grinned “You know you could have asked me sweets, I would have been happy to” He moved his hands to rest on your knee, slowly moving up to your thigh. 

Your body jerked back, pulling away as if his touch burned your skin. His touch didn’t feel like Bucky’s. His eyes grew cold, it irritated him that you were so sweet and pathetically innocent yet unfazed by his attempts to seduce you; you’d never given into him.

“I-I appreciate that but I wanted to come alone” You didn’t want to upset him though you were very close to dumping a glass of wine on his head. Bucky’s jaw clenched at the way your body froze, discomfort evident on your face as he continued to try and paw at you. 

Bucky didn’t like you.

Or care for you.

But you were still his to ruin and he wasn’t going to let someone stop that. 

Is what he told himself as he shot out of his seat making his way to your table while Steve and Sam gave each other amused glances. Your eyes lit up as you saw Bucky taking long strides towards you, pulling you out of your seat and wrapping his arm around your waist without looking at you once. His eyes were trained on the blond that wordlessly glared back at him, not willing to argue with the mob moss as he walked away with you. 

“I want to leave” You whispered up at him, craving to be touched by him, and forget the feeling of Walkers hands on you. 

“Let’s get out of here” He tugged your wrist, dragging you into his SUV, tossing you in the back. You waited for him to get in, snuggling into his side when he slid in beside you, gasping when he gripped your cheeks, smashing his lips onto yours. There was nothing but tongue and teeth as he claimed you, biting and nipping at your lips, his hands grasping your waist to pull you closer. 

“Home” He nodded to his driver before practically pulling you onto his lap, closing the divider as he sucked on your pulse point. He never brought women over to his place, given his line of work, he didn’t take the risk. But right now, his needs over threw that logic as he told the driver to take him home, ready to take you apart on his bed.

He hardly let you breathe the entire car ride, his tongue laced with yours, fingers tugging your hair, while your hands came down to grasp at his shirt. He broke away when the car stopped in front on the driveway, his hunger to have you wrapped around him growing stronger. 

“Come here” He pulled you out of the car, carrying you in with your legs wrapped around his waist. He took you straight to his room, kicking the door closed, holding you up with one arm before locking it and setting you down. He threw his suit jacket off before turning you around and unzipping your dress, letting it fall and pool around you feet, leaving you in your underwear. 

He groaned at the dark sheer lace that hugged your body, cupping your perfect breasts, your sweet pussy hardly covered by the tiny material of your panties. 

“On your knees” He commanded, unbuttoning his pants, pulling his cock out, rubbing the tip onto your lips, making them glossy. You licked off his precum, moaning up at him while he gripped your hair back, the other hand holding onto your jaw. “Open” 

He shoved his cock down your throat, guiding your face up and down his length,  throbbing as you gagged and choked on him. His thumbs swiped over the tears that spilled down your cheeks, moaning at how wrecked you looked. 

“So fucking perfect, sucking my cock like a the little slut you are” He groaned, “otsosi mne, printsessa”

Every whine and moan that you made went straight to his cock, twitching, dribbling arousal down your throat. He pulled you off, not willing to just cum in your mouth, not when his balls felt heavy, his cock desperate to be inside you. He carried you over to the bed, dropping you and ripping your lingerie off before stripping all his clothes off and crawling on top of you. 

You let out a soft gasp at his complete bare form. He had never taken all his clothes off before, you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander from his thick muscular thighs, dripping cock, perfect chest and handsome face, he was beautiful all over. 

“James?”  You blinked as he paused between your legs, the greedy side of him desperate to taste you, something he had denied himself thus far. Until tonight. You always smelled so sweet. He was going to make sure he touched and claimed every part of your body. “James, what are you-ohmygod!” 

You gasped as he dove into your folds, his mouth unrelenting, sucking and swirling his tongue while he shoved two fingers into you, pumping them in and out, making your moans grow louder. He looked up at your squirming form, your head thrown back, thighs trembling and squeezing around his head. 

“I-I’m gonna-fuckfuck-please-P-PLEASE”

He smirked against your clit, slapping the side of your thigh before sucking with more pressure and shoving a third finger in you, throwing you over the edge. Your juices spilled out of you, soaking his face, your scent and arousal covering his beard. 

He didn’t give you any time to recover from you high, grasping your ankles and flipping you over, shoving your face down and bringing your ass up, his cock rubbing up and down your cunt. 

“moya malen'kaya shlyushka“ He mumbled to himself, spanking your ass making you cry out. “Take it princess” He spanked you again, rubbing the sting away before grasping the soft flesh, squeezing it in his hands. 

“Bet he would have loved to have you like this, hm?” 

“Who?” Your brain couldn’t function, focused on his length pressed against you, 

“Your little boy toy who wanted you attention so badly, ty shlyukha“ His fingers gripped tightly, humping and rutting his cock against you while you mewled, desperate for him to do something, “You ever let him put his cock in you?”

“N-no” You whined, as his hand gripping your ass further, guiding his cock to your fluttering entrance. A satisfied smirk graced his lips as he slammed into you, pulling your hips back to meet his thrusts, groaning at the way you cried out at the stretch. The sounds of his skin slapping on yours echoed through the room, nearly drowning out your muffled cries. 

“Yeah, you know why baby? Cause your my little slut, my fucking cum dump” He wanted to ruin you so fucking badly, your pussy would never be the same, his hand snaking down to tug your hair for leverage to fuck you harder. “That’s all your fucking good for, to take my loads, give me something warm, tight and wet to cum in”

“F-uck! JAMES” He fucked you at an animalistic pace, moving to grip onto the headboard, his brows furrowed, keeping your face buried against the mattress. 

“Such a well fucked hole, look-look at how you’re greedy cunt is swallowing my cock” 

“P-PLEASE JAMES!” You had tears in your eyes, overwhelmed with pleasure, the overstimulation consuming your body. You could hardly focus on anything, your hands blindly searching for something to hold on to. You could tell if you wanted more or less, your belly tightening again, ready to cum for a second time. 

“Shut up and take it” He growled, his hips snapping wildly, the headboard cracking under his grip. Your tears spurred him on, his cock growing harder, ruined on his bed, crying out for him. He moved one hand to shove his fingers into your mouth, moaning when he felt your pussy clench, shoving them deeper.

Your body always responded to him perfectly, he couldn’t hold on any longer, his balls heavy and tight, ready to fill you with his cum. 

“Ready for my cum, princess? Open that little pussy up for me, m’gonna fill you so much, it’ll squirt out of you, make my cock creamy princess, dirty messy slut” You could feel every vein and ridge of his cock against your sensitive walls, your arousal making his balls wet eat time they slapped your clit. “Say it, say you want my fucking cum”

“I want your cum!”  You slurred out, waiting for his warmth to flood you. 

“Who, whose cum do you fucking want” His head was thrown back, cock starting to twitch, the tip swollen and sensitive. 

“Yours daddy” 

That did it, you were too fucked out to even register what you had just called him but Bucky hear it loud and clear. It unleashed something in him, giving you 3 harsh sloppy thrusts before he couldn’t hold off any longer. 

“Shit-FUCK-hng fuuuckkkk” His movements stilled, his cock throbbing, spilling his cum into you. He gave you a few more sloppy thrusts, emptying himself before pulling out and pushing his sensitive cock into you again, rolling you over so he could see your fucked out face. He had to stop himself from lapping up your soaked pussy with his mixed arousal, his cock ready to fuck his cum back into you as it dripped out. 

“I’m not done with you”

****

Your body was limp on the bed, panting, soreness and bruises littering your skin. He had thrown you around in every position, pulling pleasure from your body as if it satiated his hunger. He pumped you full of his loads, not leaving one part of you untouched, his hands, tongue and cock caressing your body. 

After the last round, he had gotten up to splash some water on his face, his body covered in sweat, his spent cock soaked in your mixed arousal. He wasn’t a stranger to rough sex but even he felt worn out, having thrown you around like a ragdoll to his content, cumming in you until he couldn't anymore. 

As he walked back, Bucky blinked, seeing your curled up form on his bed, snuggled in his sheets. 

That wasn’t part of his plan.

He didn’t intend on letting you fall asleep. 

He couldn’t help but slip under the covers, too exhausted to think about if this was appropriate or not, waves of sleep crashing over him. He swallowed thickly when you shifted in your sleep, snuggling into his side, seeking his warmth, your arm hugging his waist, head resting on his chest. He tried to shuffle over but you clung onto him in your sleep, tucking yourself against him as much as you could, letting out a small whine whenever he moved. 

Your body felt to soft and warm on him. He had never taken the time to really look at you, but as you laid on his chest, his eyes flicked across your face, taking in your features. 

Your lashes fluttering against your cheeks. The pout of your lips. The soft curve of your jaw. There was no doubt you were beautiful but there was also something ethereal. Angelic. 

Almost...precious.

It almost felt wrong for him to touch something so sweet and delicate. 

He could smell the soft scent of your shampoo. 

His eyes drifted to the bruises that covered your body. 

The ones he marked you with. 

The ones he never paid attention to before. 

The ones he should have kissed and massaged- no. No...No?

You were nothing more than a means to an end...but he couldn't stop himself from stroking your skin, while holding you close. His hand trailed down softly to trace down your spine, making you shiver, nuzzling against him further. He couldn’t understand how even in your sleep, you were sweet. Trusting. You wanted to be wrapped in his warmth. He thought about the way you looked up at him when he tugged you from the party. The way you stayed on his lap the entire care ride home. 

He thought about how he left without looking back each time but you were always so warm whenever he came back. Soft. His body moved on its own, pulling the sheets up to cover you, pressing a delicate kiss onto your head. 

What was going on with him. 

The next morning

He blinked awake, frowning at the coldness of the bed. You had left at some point during the night, so quietly he didn’t even notice. He felt....disappointed. He wasn’t even sure why. He missed the way you fit in his arms. The way you slept so soundly while cuddled up with him. 

Something changed after that night. He sought your warmth, not just your body. He wanted to feel you wrapped around him, your arms clinging to be closer, your adorable little disgruntled sounds whenever he shifted while you slept on his chest. The way your voice soothed him. It wasn’t hooking up or just fucking anymore. It was softer each time. More sweet words. Lingering touches. He’d stay longer just to hear your honeyed voice, talking about anything, it didn’t matter. He knew this was no longer just him trying to get back at your father. 

He had fallen for you. 

He never thought he’d be capable of that type of affection, yet with you he had his first taste of sweetness and he didn’t want to let go.

A few weeks later - His room 

“Come here” He pulled you close to him, his hands softly caressing your body feeling every bit of you as he laid with you on his bed. He peppered soft kisses onto your face, making up for all the times he should have kissed you before, your skin felt like soft silk on his lips. 

He pushed himself into you slowly, for the first time, feeling all of you wrapping him in your warmth. He’d been inside you so many times before but now he actually felt you. Your sweet body under his, trusting him to take care of you. 

He couldn’t hurt you, you were so precious. 

His hands gently held onto you, rocking his hips slowly, savoring every second. 

You knew something was different. He knew something was different. 

“James, don’t stop, p-pleaase”

“I won’t stop baby, I won’t”

“Don’t let go”

“I’ll never let go malyshka, prekrasnaya printsessa” 

He was making the softest sweetest love to you and you clung onto his body never wanting it to end. He held you gently as you came undone for him, slowly thrusting into you as he reached his high. His touch was so delicate, you would have almost missed it. 

He didn’t say a word about what had just happened. 

He thought he could ignore it, go back to how things were but when he was still throbbing in you, unable to stop how much he was cumming for you, it was impossible. His body weight fell on you, still grinding and rutting his cock, moaning into your neck. He nearly sounded like he was in pain, overstimulating himself with your sweetness. 

“James?” You cupped his face, making him look at you, your thumb caressing his scruffy cheek. “Is everything okay?” 

“You feel good baby” he whispered, resting his forehead onto yours. “You feel go so good” 

“James what’s wrong” Your voice was more firm this time, cocking your head, waiting for him to tell you what was on his mind. His eyes were glassy, pushing some of your hair back, his thumb stroking your forehead. 

“You’re an angel” He gazed down at you, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, how did he ever think about using you. 

“Baby, where’s this coming from?” 

He stroked your hair, his heart sinking at your confused expression. He didn’t even know where to start.  “I- he huffed in frustration, how could he look you in the eye and tell you what his intentions were. “I-I don’t deserve you” He shook his head, biting his lip, unable to meet your eyes. He rolled you both over so you rested on his chest, your doe eyes waiting for him to continue. 

“Why?” The flash of hurt that crossed your face made his heart jump, he never wanted to be the cause of your pain. 

“Because angel, you’ve always been sweet. Kind. Affectionate. I didn’t treat you the way you deserved. I left you on your on every night when I should have held you. Made love to you, not bruised you skin” 

His voice had slowly dropped to a whisper, his heart racing. You could see tears well in his eyes, his hands trembling on your skin while he rubbed your back. 

“You’re precious angel, I can’t believe I ever treated you otherwise. You deserved love from the start” He let the tears roll down his cheeks, full prepared for you to up and leave, he knew he wasn’t worthy of you at all. And yet...he couldn’t stop the next words that slipped past his lips. 

“YA tebya lyublyu” You blinked up at him while he smiled softly, sniffling, cupping your cheek, brining you closer to him “I love you”

“You love me?” You could fee your heart hammer in your chest, as you inched closer, your nose bumping against his, your thumb wiping his tears.

“I do moya sladkaya malyshka” He kissed your forehead, then nose, and the softest kiss to your lips. “Please forgive me babygirl, please” His eyes were pleading with you, ready to give you the world in your hands if that’s what you wanted. You nodded, snuggling into his hold while he wrapped you tight, hoping he’d be able to have you just like this for the rest of his life. His sweet girl. 

“I love you James”

“Say it again baby” He whispered, wanting to hear those words from you over and over again. 

“I love you” you smiled against his skin, while he kissed your head. 

“My sweet doll” He adored you so much. “Say it again”

After secret dating and sneaking around for as long as you could

Now given that Bucky is your fathers rival, you can imagine it isn’t exactly the easiest thing to bring up. Tony is not immediately on board. At all. 

Until he sees you both one day when you both think no one’s looking. He’s a little taken aback at how soft Bucky is for you. Who knew such a jackass could also be such a gentleman. 

Your both outside in your garden; you thought your dad had gone out for meetings for the day. Bucky has you on his lap, feeding you berries with kisses in between each bite. He can’t take his eyes off you, nose nuzzled against your cheek, cuddling you under the warm sun. He can’t stop smiling and looking at you with heart eyes, his hands playing with your hair. 

Clint snorts, watching Tony narrow his eyes at you both while watching you from his office. He so badly wants to shoot Bucky because again, how dare this cocky jack ass come to his house and woo his babygirl, fuck no. 

But also...

You looked so happy. 

“They’re cute, huh” Clint joined Tony’s side, smirk down at your both. 

“Shut up”

He wants to go down and tell the mob boss to get his hands off his daughter but you laugh and snuggle into Bucky further. 

“It’s been months boss, she’s the only one he’s been with, I hate to say it but it looks like he really loves her. And she loves him” 

“Why do you know this”

“You’re not the only one who keeps tabs on her, she’s everyone little princess” Clint rolled his eyes, knowing the way all of Tony’s men cared for you like their own. Tony grunts, leaving to pour himself a taaaallll glass of whisky. 

He wasn’t Bucky’s number 1 fan but for his little princess, he will allow it. There’s no doubt that Bucky loves you almost more than him. If you were a princess at home, Bucky treats you like a queen. You’d always be protected. Cared for. 

Bucky comes directly to Tony all on his own, asking for your hand. Yes, its an outdated practice but he respects Tony and wants him to know his intentions are to love you and take care of you. He knows how much it would mean to you for father to say yes. 

It’s a long discussion. Lots of differences put aside. Alliances formed. 

Tony still thinks Bucky is a jackass but he can’t help but smile at the happy squeals he hears down the hall when Bucky goes straight to you to ask you to marry him.

A sweet intimate wedding. Not exactly small, but only people you both care for are there. Steve and Sam spend the entire time at the altar with shit eating “I told you so” grins. 

(Tony’s wedding present is the south side) 

Your first son, Steve Anthony Barnes is spoiled beyond reason by literally everyone. Steve and Sam compete with Tony and Clint and it’s done nothing but get on your nerves because you’d need a second house with how many presents he gets for no reason at all. 

Your baby girl, Rebecca Samantha Barnes is daddy’s little princess. (Bucky will never, ever in his life admit he now understands how Tony felt over you. He kicks himself every so often and spoils you as much as he can) 

The twins, Clinton and Natalia can only be left together for so long before they get up to mischief. Which is every minute of the day. Steve confirmed that dealing with illegal shipments was less terrorizing. Everyone agreed. 

And of course with each day, Bucky is still head over heals in love with you. 

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#bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x female reader #bucky x f!reader #bucky x innocent reader #bucky barnes x innocent reader #mob bucky barnes #bucky barnes mob au #mob bucky #mob bucky au #mob bucky x you #mob bucky x freader #mob bucky x y/n #mob bucky x reader #mob bucky x innocent reader #dom bucky #dom bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #bucky fan fic #bucky fan fics

[velvetmud]

omg could i request a combo of ¹⁴⁾ tipsy sex & ⁴²⁾ breeding kink ?

yeeeeeessssss omg these are both my favs🥴🥴🥴🥴

warning(s): explicit 18+ daddy kink, nicknames, dirty talk, breeding kink, alcohol, filth

Rubber

—

“That’s it. Take your seat, girl,” Joel slurs his affirmation, lying back so loosely and uncharacteristically worry-free and relaxed right behind you, teasing you with the shapes he draws with his fingers on the surface of your naked back.

“No protection, no pills,” he marvels, trailing his middle finger over to the hood of your clit. Rubbing. Swirling so delicately that your hips can’t help but start to buck. “Just this,” he taps the lips of your pussy with the mushroom head of his cock. It felt so fucking huge and so smooth it became irresistible to slide yourself up against.

“Let’s breed this little pussy tonight, yeah? Have my cum overflowin’ deep inside, raw,” He emphasizes, as if it were a challenge between his loud gasps and long groans. “Bet you’re ovulating too, baby. Body’s thirsty for this cum. Fuck yeah I know you are, mmmhm. Feel you dripping ‘round this cock for it right now princess—jesus christ.”

His rambling gets put to a hault when your pussy starts hopping up and down on his lap, tipsy and unafraid of going in deep the first thrust. Testing his resistance to fill you up and impregnate you under only thirty seconds.

In a haze, he’s snatching the half finished bottle he left on your nightstand. A shiny glass liquor bottle that you’d both put a good dent in for no particular reason tonight. Maybe it was Joel’s way of unwinding from the stress of his work week, or his incessant need for having drunk sex—but either way you didn’t ask any questions when he poured a pair of shots on the counter, and you were more than on board to get shit faced and fuck him. The electric release of unrelenting tension always bubbling whenever you’re both itching for it.

You knew he had a dirty set goal in mind when he got progressively more chatty and flirty up after some of the strong shots of aged whiskey you’d shared.

His intent was to fuck you, ravage you—this time do it raw without a rubber barrier to block the best sensations, breed you and have you tethered to him for life. You’d admit it out loud if he wants you to, but you know without a doubt he’ll be good to you and your child.

After he guzzles down another long sip of the bronze colored liquor, the burn as it goes down doesn’t even register as he holds on for dear life while your bare pussy uses him, squelches for him. He brings the tip of the bottle around to you, nudging your shoulder with it. You nod without another thought, opening your mouth out to him and wrapping around the mistakably phallic shaped glass. It turns him on impossibly some more just to watch your lips and those eyes, making him give right into the urge to drunkenly bob his hips upwards to shove the girth of his base in.

You feel how engorged he is, comparing all of that to other men whom suffer from infamous ‘whisky dick’ syndrome, which just didn’t fucking happen to men like Joel. Not with his piercing stamina, infinitely quenching his thirst to get off, even if he does have a belly half full of alcohol.

Joel unabashedly moans like a whore and rushes to slam the bottle back down on your night stand, suddenly ready to take on control.

“Who’re you gonna let breed this pussy up, huh mama? Who’s gonna be dicking you down ‘til you’re fucking stupid?”

“You! You, daddy!”

“You promise?”

“F-fuck, I promise daddy, you’re the only one—“

“Mmmhm, that’s right. Daddy’s the only one s’gonna knock you up, gonna make sure n’ knock this pussy up good—”

The clapping of his balls slamming repeatedly against your ass gets drowned out by your screams, your bodies’ precum dribbling down your ass and ringing around Joel’s dick.

“I can’t stop—gonna cum all over you, daddy, ple…. please!”

He bites his lower lip, not changing a thing about the rough tempo of his hips, knowing you love it when he goes deep.

“Of course, get daddy’s dick wet, baby. Yeaaaaah.”

He spanks your ass once, and twice, feeling you clench and pulsate, using his impressive girth like your very own fuckstick and it’s the hottest thing Joel’s ever known.

“Fill it up, daddy, need your cum inside to get me pregnant,” you breathe, drool slowly slipping down the corner of your mouth.

His cock gets drenched in your juices, milky stains trailing down and putting Joel in a frenzy as he nears his orgasmic end.

“I see those legs still shaking, baby, get ready for it. That’s it, mama. Here it comes. M’bout to flood this pussy.”

Joel slams himself in balls deep, bruising your hips and your ass cheeks by the brunt of his force while shudders from the impending high. Can physically feel his balls getting milked while you lay there and take it, absorbing his thick load. Roaring like a man in victory, he fucks his length into you some more. Shooting every drop inside, setting off a primal chain reaction in the both of you while his load paints your every crevice.

His cock is still lodged in you while you both heave and recover from the animalistic burn, shuddering from pure relief of what your bodies were made and born to do.

“Fuck, you’re—that feels perfect mama. Never fucking this sweet pussy with a rubber ever again. Pullin’ out now, better not see a single fucking drip fall out, hear me? Keep those pretty legs pointing up. Let your body do the magic.”

As soon as Joel pulls himself out he’s cupping your pussy with his palm, ensuring nothing will ooze out and go to waste.

“Normally love watchin’ you push it back out f’me, but we’re gonna have to keep it all in this time.”

#joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #the last of us #joel miller fanfic #joel miller imagine #joel miller x f!reader #pedro pascal #tlou fanfic #ask

[aleksanderscult]

Analyzing Aleksander's reaction to Alina's loss of her power

(I'm so sick and tired of seeing people use his "You are nothing now" words as a way to justify how he didn't love her that I decided to create a whole ass post about it.)

First of all, let's see what the powers of a Grisha mean to a Grisha, shall we?

For a Grisha her powers is the same thing as the oxygen is for all humans. The constant beat of a person's heart.

Indispensable.

And in a way it's implied that a Grisha cannot live without it. Just like birds can naturally fly, just like a fish can naturally swim. It's part of their nature, part of their body and soul.

Now let's see Aleksander's reaction to Alina's loss of her power.

The moment he saw Alina being unable to summon, he froze. At first he's in denial of what he sees.

How can a Grisha not being able to use her power? A power that is always there no matter what? A power that "feeds" them and keeps them healthy and alive.

We see Aleksander being in a state of shock as he tries to comprehend what is happening with her:

He had never seen anything like that. A Grisha losing her powers is unheard of. Impossible.

He tries again and again to summon her light and bring it to the surface. The fact that he can't feel it causes him panic and pain. In a way, he can't find her soul.

And the very fact that she also lost her collar and feter is impossible too. When a Grisha claims an amplifier, a connection is made that can't be broken.

Another fatal loss for Alina and a disastrous blow for Aleksander and his knowledge, since he knows more than anyone else how amplifiers work and how a Grisha's power work. All the hundreds of years he had spent watching and studying the ways of the Small Science and of power, have gone to waste right now as he tries to understand what is going on with the woman he loves.

His near immortality and rare powers always made him seek someone else to connect with. Someone to understand him and be on the same level as him.

People say that he never actually wanted Alina to be his equal. Well, based on his words and reaction here, I would say he wanted to.

Right now there's no pretense, no tricks or a façade. We see him "naked" and exposed showing us his terror of Alina's loss and despair for his fate. Of being alone forever.

"You were meant to be like me."

Aleksander wanted her strong and confident. Unafraid to rise above the others and to stand right beside him.

"You're nothing now."

I know it sounds cruel but it is true.

If a bird lost its ability to fly or a fish its ability to swim, would you call that normal? If a person stopped breathing or her heart stopped beating, would you call her alive and whole?

Alina lost the very essence of her being, her soul and identity. What happened to her was something completely unnatural and just wrong. Aleksander has lived for centuries and knows more about the Grisha than anyone else (except of course his mother) so he knows that what happened to her, has crippled her. She's not the Alina she was. And she's never gonna be.

It's not a statement of disgust, apathy or scorn. They're words of pain and mourning. Shock and anger.

It's a complete ruin for Alina.

A devastation and tragedy for the unfortunate Grisha that experiences it for the first time in their history. And an equal devastation and sorrow for the Grisha that watched it happen to the person he cared most about.

And it's actually funny how Aleksander seems to be the only person that was devastated for what happened to her.

Everyone else was:

"Alina lost her powers"

"Okay cool".

In a way you can say that it was proof of how he was the one that truly cared about her fate while the rest of her friends didn't seem to give two flying fucks.

The Darkling just gave up.

All he had fought for, all the patience he had mastered for years waiting for his equal to come, went to dust right in front of him.

In a way he committed suicide and just let Alina kill him.

Now if he didn't love her as some people say, why did he do these things after she lost her powers?:

1) Called her to his side and searched for her hand to hold it.

2) Smiled at her and stroked her tears.

3) Entrusted her with his last wish because he'd seen her kindness and believed in it.

4) Asked her to say his name one more time so he could hear it from her one last time. A name that he had probably never said to anyone else for centuries.

5) Begged her to not leave him alone while he died because loneliness frightened him.

I'm sorry but if I was dying, I wouldn't want anyone at my side but the people that I loved the most. And Aleksander wanted the same too.

There's no way he felt disgust or anger towards Alina even after she stabbed him. Whatever she did, he forgave. And whatever happened to her in the end didn't stop him from loving her and wanting her presence at his side until his own end.

(didn't really love her, my ass)

#the darkling #pro darkling #darklina #pro darklina #yes because when you smile at the person that stabbed you and wipe her tears then you must hate her #oh! and let's not forget how he wanted to see her the moment he got resurrected! #that man came back from the underworld and said “Where is she?! Where's my wife?!” #like daamnn calm down you lovesick fool #oof #aleksander morozova #pro aleksander morozova #alina starkov #alarkling #pro alarkling #ruin and rising #shadow and bone #grishaverse trilogy #grishaverse

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Hello everything is fine? you could write Aemond engaged to Y/n wanting to take her virginity before marriage

EVERYTHING IS GROOVY, DUDE, THANKS FOR ASKING.

I've taken kind of a diary entry approach to this. There is basically no plot. Y'all know the drill.

Warnings: Smut, duh. Word count: ~1000

Before the betrothal

Aemond nods solemnly when his mother breaks the news that he is to be betrothed. He had known this day would come and accepted it as his duty to House Targaryen. He was to be wed to a noble girl from a noble house in order to strengthen Aegon’s claim to the throne. He has no thoughts of his future bride beyond doing what he must for the good of his family.

First meeting

Her hair that falls in soft, loose waves almost to her waist. She is small and slight. Her gown hugs her figure like a second skin. Aemond’s mouth runs dry as he takes in her bright eyes and rose petal lips. He clears his throat, remembering to introduce himself when his mother nudges him in the ribs. He had not expected her to be so beautiful. “Is she really going to be mine?!”

Nine months before the wedding

While Aemond knew she was beautiful, he had not anticipated being captivated by more than her looks. He is delighted to find that she is quick witted, intelligent and fierce - most importantly she is unafraid of him. His breath catches when she touches his arm when he makes her laugh. She does not leave his mind from that point onwards.

Six months before the wedding

They are finding more and more excuses to spend time alone together. Aemond cannot keep her out of his thoughts. Shameful as it is, he finds himself with his fist around his hardened cock each evening while he thinks about the softness of her skin, the way her lips part and the glint she gets in her eye when she looks at him. He cannot help but wonder how it would feel to be buried inside of her. Six turns of the moon feels like an agonisingly long time to wait to find out. 

He is taken aback one day when she presses a soft kiss to his cheek. He surprises her in return by turning his face and capturing her lips. It quickly turns heated and his eye goes wide when he feels her tongue slide against his, no one has ever kissed him like that before. Hands from both sides grope where they ought not to, and Aemond has to quickly excuse himself as his erection presses painfully against the lacings of his breeches.

Three months before the wedding

Aemond has discreetly read every book that the Red Keep’s library has to offer on the act of physical love. Underneath his stoic demeanour he is giddy with anticipation at all of the things he and his betrothed will get to try when they are wed. Yet, it is still months away, and he is losing patience. His interest is piqued when he discovers a tome on the art of pleasures of the flesh that do not involve fornication.

A few days later, Aemond and his lady find themselves cinched in another passionate embrace. What Aemond has read springs to mind and desperation and curiosity get the better of him. 

She gasps a quiet “what are you doing?!” as he crouches down and pushes at her skirts. 

“Trust me” he whispers back, before pressing his face between her legs and licking a hot, wet line along her cunny. 

He groans at the squeak she elicits, hand finding its way to his cock and fisting it as he feasts upon her soaking centre. Hot ropes of pearly spend coat his fingers as he climaxes with a grunt when she finally comes undone around his tongue. He has never tasted anything more divine.

The night before the wedding

Having spent every available opportunity exploring each other’s bodies and pleasuring each other without breaching her virtue, Aemond can hardly wait for them to finally become one, his body aches with the need to be inside of her. He knows they mustn't see each other the night before the wedding and yet he cannot stay away. 

He steals away into her bedchamber and, before he knows it, they are naked and tangled together in her sheets. He is stunned when she straddles him. He hisses as he feels the wet heat of her cunt press against his hardened length.

“We are supposed to wait.” He says, voice thick with lust, offering no real objection.

She giggles. “We are. I am not going to take you inside. My handmaiden told me how to do this and I’ve been dying to try it.”

“Well, who am I to deny my lady?” He asks with a sly smirk.

His jaw goes slack, his eye fluttering closed as she slides herself up and down his erection, rolling her hips against his without him ever breaching her entrance. The tip catches her there a few times, but she is quick to pull away, placing him back at her pearl and applying pressure where she needs it most.

His mind is foggy with pleasure. If this is what it feels like just to have her rub against him, what must it feel like to be inside? His stomach muscles tense and his stones tighten as he feels the first licks of his climax tease at his lower back. He can tell from how her pace has begun to falter and how her moans have turned to breathy pants that she is close too.

Her arousal soaks his lap as she falls apart above him and he finally allows himself release, gripping her hips and splattering his stomach as he bucks up at her.

After taking a moment to come back to reality, they stare at each other, both huffing a small laugh as they try to catch their breath.

Aemond swipes two fingers across his abdomen, collecting his milky spend and pressing it to her lips. She wraps her lips around the digits, sucking them clean with a contented hum and he grins at her.

“Just think.” He purrs at her. “Tomorrow I will finally spill my seed inside of you.”

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond one eye #aemond stannies #pro aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #aemond #hotd #aemond targaryen x reader #hotd aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen smut #hotd smut #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanficton

[hotformpreg]

Once upon a time in the bustling city of New York, there existed an exclusive all-male friend group comprised of individuals from the upper echelons of society. These men reveled in their luxurious lifestyles and indulged in the most taboo of desires. However, there was one unique aspect that set them apart from the rest of society - they were all in various stages of pregnancy.

On a sunny summer afternoon, the group gathered aboard a magnificent yacht docked in Lower Manhattan. The vessel, adorned with opulence and extravagance, served as their sanctuary where they could freely explore their deepest and most forbidden fantasies.

The pregnant men, their bellies protruding with the miracle of life, basked in the warm sunlight that kissed their skin. Their firm pecs had transformed into milk-filled breasts, ready to nourish the life growing within them. The men, unabashed in their desires, decided to strip nude and change into revealing speedos, right in front of their equally wealthy and enamored baby daddies.

As the pregnant men revealed their naked bodies, their husbands' eyes widened with desire. The deck of the yacht became a stage for their intimate display, a spectacle of sensuality and taboo. The men, their bellies rounded and breasts swollen, reclined on the deck's love sofa, side by side.

Their rich baby daddies, captivated by the sight before them, lavished attention upon their pregnant partners. They praised the roundness of their bellies and the fullness of their milk-filled breasts, their hands gently caressing the smooth skin and massaging them with fragrant oil. The men moaned with pleasure as their baby daddies skillfully milked them, coaxing out the precious liquid that would soon nourish their offspring.

The deck of the yacht became a haven of pleasure, where the pregnant men and their baby daddies indulged in the most explicit and intimate acts. The air was filled with the heady scent of arousal, the sounds of moans and gasps blending with the gentle lapping of the waves against the yacht's hull.

The men, their bodies glistening with a mixture of sweat and oil, reveled in the sensations coursing through them. Each touch, each stroke, sent shivers of pleasure down their spines. They were fully immersed in the exploration of their desires, unafraid of societal norms or judgment.

As the sun began to set over the shimmering Manhattan skyline, the pregnant men and their baby daddies continued their erotic escapades, blissfully lost in their world of taboo pleasure. The yacht sailed into the night, carrying them deeper into the depths of their carnal desires.

#male pregnancy #mpreg #mpreg belly #mpreg birth #mpreg kink #pregnantman #fatboy

[lunchboxpoems]

TO BE BRAVE, I LOOK TO THE DAFFODIL

To be brave, I look to the daffodil. A stupid flower, I’ve always thought – too eager to enter a world not fully thawed. Shrinking  after just one cold night. I surround myself with pluck. Always one for adventure: running naked  across campus into a stranger’s car as rite of passage, jumping into the freezing bay. Hitchhiking home but afraid to speak in class. To order in my mother’s tongue, my mother’s food. I let the dark take on its own shapes, unchecked. No, I am not brave, but I like the people who are. Who never overprepare or let their anxieties  stop them. For whom things always work out.  I’m chasing the high from one novelty to another, wanting adventure but so unwilling to find it on my own. Instead, I lose myself in people who live unafraid. Bravery by osmosis. This might be the truest thing I say today and it scares me. To admit that on my own, I was never wild. All this time I thought the daffodil’s dropped  petals, the green leaves that remained, marked an ending.  But underground she is rebuilding for next spring.  For when she’ll dare, again, to push through the frostbitten earth. Year after year, it goes on like this.

SUSAN NGUYEN

#susan nguyen #poem #poetry #spring poem #daffodils

[sohannabarberaesque]

Meanwhile, back in Bedrock ...

Could you just imagine the likes of Fred and Wilma Flintstone, and Barney and Betty Rubble, taking some "quality time" being "close to Nature" in prehistoric manner (as in wearing but themselves for the most part, mainly for the sake of comfort and some degree of ritual)?

(Oh yes, and the young adultish versions of Pebbles and Bamm-Bamm as they sense their own flowerings being imminent.)

#hanna barbera #the flintstones #bedrock #naked as nature intended #prehistoric friendship #prehistoric sexuality #prehistoric nudism #naked and unafraid #hannabarberaforever

[fyodorloveclub]

thoughts on sigma? Can be sfw or nswf but im desperate for anything crumbs :')

i'll provide sfw and (n)sfw for u hehehehe. minors DNI !

✰ sigma is a very gentle lover. his touches, words, and actions are all very gentle and considerate he is just such a sweet boy

✰ sigma's receiving love language is words of affirmation. baby just wants to be told that he's doing a good job and to be reminded how much u genuinely love and appreciate him for who he is :") his giving love language is definitely acts of service though. he has a hard time expressing himself personally with words, he feels much more confident showing his own love and appreciation through his actions. he'll get your chores done for you if he gets home first, cook for you, always makes you tea in the morning, etc.

✰ sigma fucking loves when you play with his hair. he'll sit there and purr if you run your fingers through it, brush it, braid it, scratch his scalp, anything. (he also likes when u pull it)

✰ sigma had a hard time warming up to physical touch and intimacy when you first started dating as it was a completely foreign concept to him, but as he gets more comfortable he gets so clingy. he still needs space, but it's not unusual to find him in a state where he just constantly needs to be either near your or touching you - whether that be holding your hand, your thigh, the small of your back, leaning his head on your shoulder, hugging you from behind as you cook, the list goes on. he just loves the physical reminder of you being there.

✰ sigma LOVES to read. he likes the classics but his guilty pleasure is YA novels - he fucking loves the hunger games

✰ sigma snores. just a little bit. its endearing more than anything

✰ sigma isn't overtly possessive, def doesn't control you in any way, but he is very very protective of you and likes to keep you close. not many things or people in life are his, but you are, and he's not going to give that up easily !

✰ sigma is a soft dom. no doubt he loves pinning you down and fucking you senseless, but he will also fucking melt while you ride him, unafraid to let out little moans and whimpers as he holds your hand and presses his face into the pillow

✰ when you and sigma have sex, he likes it when the both of you are completely naked. he likes the intimate, vulnerable, almost primal feel of nothing in between you

✰ sigma LOVES your thighs, no matter the size. he just wants to kiss and bite and lick them, and def wants to fuck them. he has such a thing for thigh jobs, he has a huge thing for thigh fucking pls it turns him on so much

✰ sigma eats pussy like NO OTHER

✰ sigma's cock is relatively average length, prob around 5.5 to 6 inches but def thicker, like there's some stretching and burning for you for sure !! it's also slightly curved and the tip is very pink hehe. he has a very light dusting of hair around the base and the wimpiest little happy trail but its so cute

✰ sigma loves to mark you up. its his way of being possessive without actually being possessive. you'll find yourself covered damn near head to toe in bites and hickeys and scratches and bruises (very much concentrated around your thighs)

✰ sigma's 2 fav positions are missionary (bordering on mating press, he likes having you very much on display) because he really wants to see your face and be able to kiss you, and spooning. he's a big fan of lazy morning sex, no pressure or high expectations, just hugging you close to his chest as he slips himself inside of you with a sigh

✰ sigma is a big fan of aftercare, and doing it right. when you get rough, at the end he's always making sure you're okay and if you need anything, will rub your back and kiss on you or take you to the bath because making you feel good does not end as soon as you both cum!!

#hope u like teehee #sigma x reader #bsd sigma #sigma smut #voices in my head #demons #sigma: ✑

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Help to Sleep

Kakashi Hatake x Reader, SMUT. MDNI 18+ only. Ao3

6.8k words, kind of a shorter one but im trying to be more concise. also this one won the poll but the Higuruma fic and the Jiraiya fic will also be posted soon! thanks to everyone who voted and I hope you enjoy. tags: thigh fucking, biting, a lot of talking about smell, kakashi is tired and desperate and loves you so much.

When you met Kakashi he wasn’t a sound sleeper. He would get up periodically throughout the night and excuse himself from bed to sit in the living room reading or cleaning, trying to lull himself back to sleep through monotony. As years removed him from the prescient danger of working in the anbu and moved him to a technically safer position of teaching, he found himself able to sleep feeling safer, sleeping harder, dreaming more, unafraid of being caught unprepared. He could still rouse himself at the slightest shift or change in your shared home, but these days, you would find him sleeping so peacefully, so still, that you felt compelled to check under his exposed nose to see if he was still breathing. He always was. He would often then be awoken by your approach and take your trembling hand in his and press a soft kiss to the heel of your palm, touched by your concern for him. Sleeping next to him was like sleeping next to a large, warm dog, slobber included. As selfish as it was, sometimes you wished he would keep his mask on during sleep, just to have another barrier between you and his drool. His bare, strapping arms would wrap around your shoulders, holding you tight to his warm, broad chest and not release you until he had woken the next morning, pulling you with him in every readjustment and every toss and turn. You would never admit this to him, but he had recently begun to snore, a soft, rattling breath inhaled and exhaled in little huffs. You knew he would take it as an example of his rigorous assassin’s training slipping away from him as age and direction had led him down another path, so for now it was a secret only for you. And you were honored to know something about him so intimate, so private, something he, himself, didn’t know. 

You had never known bliss like being held in his arms, pressed right up against his naked torso. Kakashi never slept with a shirt on, citing his own body heat became overwhelming for him if he did. Once you two had gotten more comfortable as a couple, sharing beds over and over, he began sleeping with nothing on period, encouraging you to do the same, again blaming his body heat. You were happy to oblige, slipping between the sheets with him completely bare, his hands glued themselves to your soft, exposed skin. They were rough, his gloves did their best to protect the thin skin of his hands from callusing and blistering, but they could only do so much. His long fingers were textured and bubbled in places, the palms themselves bearing small nicked scars from the wayward kunai or shuriken, but they felt like butter on your body, sliding so smoothly down your side, from rib cage to hip. Tonight was one of these nights, where his hands grabbed you freely, squeezing every curve of flesh he could reach, his lips ghosting over the back of your neck. 

“So beautiful…”, he would whisper before sliding his tongue up the outside of your ear. 

By this point you could feel him becoming harder against your ass, you pressed your hips against his, rocking slightly to stimulate his growing erection. Kakashi was a grower, starting contained and unimposing but expanding and lengthening into a wondrous, full staff that never left you unsatisfied. His hands would get hotter, press harder, squeeze tighter, as you pulled this transformation from him, bruising the outer part of your arm, your hip, your breast, wherever he was using for leverage to rut his cock against you. You raised your arm to cup the back of his neck, wanting to have as many points of contact as possible with him. He continued kissing your neck, up to your ear and down to your shoulder. 

You wanted to be concerned about how late it was, he had gotten home only thirty minutes ago, after being away for four days. You knew he must be exhausted, you saw the fresh healing bruises on his arms and torso when he disrobed earlier. You wanted to help him relax however you could, allow him to turn off his busy genius’ brain for a while and just feel good. You lifted your top leg slightly, his now engorged cock slipped against your other thigh, and closed your legs again, encasing him between your legs. Kakashi shuddered a groan out against your neck, burying his head further into the juncture between your throat and shoulder. 

“Thank you.” he mumbled, so grateful to be understood so wordlessly by you. 

He hadn't even had to ask but you had read his mind. He wanted the mindless, thoughtless expressions of intimacy that he had only ever known with you. Acts so primal that they held no space for thought or distraction. It gave him a break from how loud his mind usually was, his hips moved on their own to slide against your dampening pussy. Your slick was coating your outer lips and inner thighs, giving him a perfectly lubricated gap to fuck himself into. You loved him like this, so mindlessly desperate for you. You may be the only person in the world to have ever seen him like this. You blushed at the thought. He whimpered and grunted against you, moving his hips faster between your thighs. You felt every inch of his shaft sliding against your slit, his fingers clenching the flesh of your hip; clean, trimmed fingernails leaving crescent shaped impressions in the skin. 

“Baby please…can I? Please, love?” His voice was husky and rough, his lips dampening the skin of your neck. 

His nose was filled with your smell, your hair was in his face, your legs were so tight and wet around him, he needed to cum so badly. His every thought was about you, how good you were to him. How lucky he was to find someone like you. How much he loved you. He was becoming drunk on the feel of you, the smell of your perfume, your shampoo. He could smell himself on you, his laundry soap, the earthy soap in your shared shower.  Feeling you nod finally, Kakashi bit into your pulse point, his long canine teeth burying themselves into your flesh. You gasped at the sensation, your back arching pressing your ass back to meet his thrusts. His movements were becoming frantic and jerky, his building orgasm turning his brain to mush. The build erupted on itself, his teeth bearing down on your neck even harder, long white ropes of cum spurted from his cock, coating your legs and the sheets in front of you. He had been so pent up, it seemed that he would never stop spilling out. A pool of his cum gathered in front of you, you fought down the sense of jealousy, longing to have his cum buried deep inside of you rather than spilled on top of and beside you. But you’d have your chance soon, he needed this. And you were happy to be what he needed. 

Kakashi stilled his hips, releasing his clamp on your neck and he licked the raw spot, already starting to bruise. He should feel apologetic, but he couldn't bring himself to feel anything but pride, the way you panted in his arms, supporting his shivering body. You had been so good for him, so generous with your body, your time, your love. He loved you so much, his heart stirred in his chest as he struggled to catch his breath behind you. 

“I love you.” You sighed, gripping his arms as they wrapped around you, pawing at your breasts.

“I love you, too.” He brings his face around to where you can turn back to reach and kisses you deeply, sliding his tongue against yours, reveling in the feeling of your mouth so hot and wet for him. 

Taking his time to kiss you, relaxing after his efforts, Kakashi finally roused himself to change the bed sheets and you cleaned your legs up in the bathroom. By the time you returned to the bedroom he was covering the bed in the comforter once more, tucking it in the sides and pulling it back so you could get in. He slid in next to you, still naked, the new sheets cool against his flushed skin. You laid on your back, Kakashi opting to lay his head in your chest and wrap his hands around your waist. Every once in a while he would press wet, open mouthed kisses to the outer flesh of your breasts, or the space in between. His mind (and balls) finally empty, he could feel sleep descending quickly as it always did when he was with you. Your hands moving through his silver hair were a tactile lullaby, pulling him deeper and deeper into his dream. You started to nod off above him as well, his heart beat syncing to yours. Tomorrow morning there would be work and reports and lessons and reassignments, but tonight there was just the two of you. 

#kakashi smut #kakshi hatake #kakashi x you #kakashi x reader #naruto fanfiction #naruto smut #kakashi hatake #kakashi sensei #thighs #outercourse #bedroom

[anlian-aishang]

Kinktober Day 12: Virgin!Levi & Cunnilingus

kudos to @bluebellhairpin for inspo <3

Tags: virgin!levi, cunnilingus, fem-ejaculation, fem!reader Word count: 2600

Nearly naked, unabashedly displayed, shamelessly sprawled - Levi wouldn’t change anything about you. It was all he could think about from the end of his bed, how perfectly you looked on it. A nervous smile graced your lips. Nipples hardly hidden beneath your lace lingerie. Matching panties, the cotton stretch over your slit clearly soaked through. He had a full-frontal view of your pathetic state.

Yet somehow, he was the embarrassed one.

Levi’s hands clung to one another in an attempt to ground himself. A thick gulp you could see in the bob of his larynx. Just as obvious as his nerves, though, was his lust: dilated pupils, flush in his chest, solidity outlined in his increasingly taut briefs. Steadfast yet calculated was his crawl towards you: one knee sunk into the mattress, hands followed until they could perch themselves beside your shoulders. Slowly, he flexed his muscles to lower himself to your lips. Push-ups put to use. 

Though most things were still foreign to your virgin, he had grown into a remarkably professional kisser. A fast learner. Soft brushes at first, tongue dipped into a tango with yours. He made sure to delve deep as though you were a destination he was eager to explore. Unafraid to prolong the kiss, getting accustomed to and even craving your taste. Tonight, he would try a new one. 

Swiping and signing off, you held his cheek in your hand and lifted his gaze to yours, “You sure about this, Levi?” You returned your lips to his briefly, reassurance that you loved him regardless of his answer, “I don’t want you to feel rushed.”

Levi propped himself on one arm, letting his free hand trace its sultry way down your chest. He cupped your breast in his hand and grazed his fingers over your peaks, increasingly firm. “I’m ready,” between his knuckles, he sandwiched your point, “I want this.”

You clenched your teeth hard enough to make your jaw tremble. “Are you sure?”

Levi sank his head down in the crevice of your chest. Chin perched above your heart. Silver eyes glared through his curtain bangs, “Gonna make me beg for it?”

You giggled: half-nervous, half-malicious. Not yet.

The begging would come later, but for now, you intended to guide him with grace. As much as he tried to hide it, and as doubtful as you were that he could feel this emotion, Levi was nervous. 

The way he undressed you, though, you were progressively blinded to his anxiety. Fingertips flicked, teased, squeezed the sensitive tips of your breasts, the start of your blood’s rush south. Dry palms cupped your smooth curves - the contrast in textures mutually adored through his blush and your sighs. After giving your chest its due attention, Levi brought his touch and body down down down. His digits bent to match the arcs of your waist, torso, hips - his hold intentional throughout. Levi had not said the words yet, but his actions spoke louder: he was in love with you.

Meanwhile, a blend of love and hate was how he felt about this last garment: the pretty black panties that blocked him from your sex. Right hand bunched into a fist, trembling with an animalistic urge to rip your underwear in two. Left hand twitched in yearning, admiring how perfectly the color complemented your skin tone. At the lace hem, they met in compromise: hastily yet thoughtfully hooking his thumbs through the loops, using the dainty fabric as a grapple on his dive down.

Ice gaze was dead set on your core, you could not help but chuckle at the shamelessness of his stare. Mere inches away from the reveal, so close, you could feel his exhales fall on your slickened skin. As those breaths grew heavier, so did the chill of the current. You nestled your shoulders into his pillow and shuddered with a near-silent hiss.

Near silent.

As fixated as his vision was, his ears were always tuned to your voice. At the first sign of your discomfort, his tug halted immediately, “You okay?”

“Y’Yeah,” you squirmed. More than okay. Arch of your back and the bend of your knees invited, “Keep - Keep going.”

His heart was beating faster than ever, yet he gave two slow and assessing blinks. When your parted lips gradually returned to a composed press and glimmer of a smile, he swallowed and continued.

This time, he alternated his attention from your facial expression to your lap, that hiss of yours still ringing in his reddened ears. Yet, for the seconds that your sex finally separated from its cover, he could not take his eyes away. Made to glisten in their own arousal, causing your panties to stick as he stripped them off of you. A clear strand of a substance unknown to him - stretched impressively far between the cloth and your middle. An instant obsession: heart jumped into his throat, Levi nearly choked, but cleared his airway through a cluster of curses. 

A shaky exhale, “Goddamn, baby,” chills coursed violently through him, “you’re so -”

“- wet?” You chuckled, both embarrassed and teasing. Kinda what happens in these things, you know. Actually, you pondered his inexperience, maybe he didn’t know. You perched yourself up a tad, just enough to reach his own arousal, “Bet you are, too.”

“Hey,” Levi glared and smirked, guiding your hand away from him and back to your side, “tonight’s about you.”

It was how he envisioned it, that tonight would be all about your pleasure, but he had to reconcile that this was indulgent for him, too. If it was truly all about you, he probably shouldn’t have bunched your panties snug in his fist and tossed them recklessly to the ground. If it was all about you, why was he so hard and leaking this much? If it was all about you, how could he feel this fucking good?

At last. The two of you shared an unspoken shared sentiment - he was finally between your legs. Laid on his stomach, toes dug stable into his comforter. Shoulders sturdy beneath the backs of your thighs, propping you at the perfect angle. Muscular arms snaked around your legs, hands anchored at your hips. Having such intimate, intertwined contact with him made his shivers contagious, inciting a brief duet of his moans and your mewls. 

Levi palmed his way down your front, bringing his right hand to your middle - the first direct touch. Your feet slid against the other in delectation, ankles twisted, arms ran weak. Levi rolled his wrist to invert his stance: base of his hand to your hood, middle finger aligned to wedge between your slit, fingertips gave their first swipes from bottom to top and back again. Skin calloused, but deliberately lotioned: a perfect solidity veiled in delectable smooth. His hands were heaven-sent. You sighed in praise to a higher power - God, karma, or Levi Ackerman himself - what the fuck ever did I do to deserve this?

You grabbed a hold of his feathered pillow, nails threatening to pierce the case. You threw your other hand back against his headboard, a feeble attempt to push yourself further down, closer to him. 

Maybe he was new to this, but intuition was his namesake. Fluent in body language, especially yours, Levi translated: you wanted more. He jerked his contact further into you, close enough for your clit to complete a palm reading. The digits that lined your gap plunged inside. In trying to fit, they were forced to meet your curve, by unspeakable mistake, allowing him to tap the spot it took other men years to find.

Instantly, your legs shot straight, your lips snapped apart, loud shrieks escaped promptly. Levi felt a sting of panic, but it was swiftly washed away by a flood of endorphins. Confident that he could do this after all. His minute, cocky smile remained a secret to you - your eyes still squinted shut in pleasure. By the time you managed to peek past, his thin brows had narrowed in determination - on a mission for more of those screams. 

In this objective and others, Levi always dove straight in. Purpose seized his being. In one suave motion, his hand traded positions. Now, his nose to your pearl, his lips to your folds, his tongue in between them. At first, it was your feel: warm, wet velvet - his cock ached in imaginative longing, how good it would someday feel around him - even better than he had dreamed. Then, it was your taste: a blend of all the delicacies that made his tongue sing. A bakery’s transparent glaze, the tart of lemon liqueur, the succulence of steak. Black tea - no sugar, no cream - your harmless bitter and hidden sweet were strikingly similar: your spirit was ascending into his favorites list. 

It was a race to the finish, it seemed. Levi could feel your muscles clench around him, could hear your gasps accelerate and heighten. At the same time, he was painfully aware of his own wavering. Up to his head in the best life had to offer, his tethers had been snipped fuck by facial fuck. Each round of vertiginous shivers had ended the same way: expelling their energy through his middle, coating himself in slick - only making those rocks sleeker, smoother, and harder to hold back. His bedding soaked through, only your sex could distract him from that. 

If not your sex, then his shivering - Levi cursed himself, the goddamn shivering - that had subjugated his figure since the very start. Known for his strength, he should have been grateful that you were the only witness to his crumbling. Instead, he leaned towards dismay: Levi would rather have anyone but you see it. 

A glass-shattering cry of yours summoned a proportionately violent round, one that actually managed to break you from your selfish bliss. “H’Huh?” 

His only response was a series of twitches. “Levi?” Your hold on him drifted: fingers formerly wrapped fierce in his hair gravitated gingerly down to his temple, traced along his jawline, until pinching his chin and lifting his gaze towards you. “You alright?”

“I’m fine.” Levi objected sternly, nearly offended. Though he had to admit, you were not wrong in recognizing that he was not his typical self. Levi closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, overwhelmed with infatuation. Neck-deep in indulgence, he shivered again, “It’s just…”

I haven’t done this before.

I know, sweetheart. I can tell. 

With the back of your hand, you brushed his bangs aside. Noticing the sweat that coated them, you felt warmth fill your being, flattered by his endeavor. Still, though your lust was aching - throbbing - your consideration for him stayed strong. “Should we stop? I really don’t mind.”

It was the truth - you didn’t mind - it was just the kind of person you were, and how you had lured him here in the first place. Countless were the nights you had dreamt of this scenario - Levi Ackerman between your legs - and even with that scene culminating before you, you would easily abandon it for his sake. Your smile was genuine, but so was his frown. Brows angled in anger, lip twitched in fight. His hold on your hips ardently tightened. Past grit teeth, he sneered, “No.” Knuckles bent sharp, turning white as he pinned you down to the mattress. Levi buried his face in your sex and growled, affirming to both you and himself, “I’m going to make you cum.”

Eye contact made, a devious smirk dominated his expression. This time, you were the one to shiver - the first of many as he delved in again.  

Tongue licked you up like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day - catching all the drips, licking his lips clean of your taste. In those swipes of your sides, he relaxed the muscle wide and flat. In fucking your insides, he sharpened his tongue to point - aiming to reach your pleasure centers. After enough repetitions and growing fluent in your figure, Levi added his fingers back into the mix, penetrating the places his mouth left neglected.

Concern could only last so long - a lesson you learned as your euphoria revived. His actions were calculated, driven, intentional - instigating an equally opposite reaction. Done by his control, your grip invariably loosened. Vision hazed, reaching only as far as these four walls, then his bed, then the couple, then yourself. 

When he began to shiver again, you held back your concern and stayed focused on yourself: it’s what he’d want you to do. In that blissful ignorance, you missed the way his moans intensified, his sweat dripped, his hips quickened. Twitches and breaths you assumed were intended for your pleasure were actually the symptoms of his. Each lick, swipe, and swallow of your taste has contributed to the burn in his insides. A flame in his middle, desires hot, composure melting away. Levi growled and jutted his hips into the mattress in an attempt to ground himself, the novice didn’t know that it would only compound the sensation. 

Levi’s moans were muffled into your middle, you rolled your eyes back and drowned his voice out with yours. Heat flooded into his center, a wave that would not be thwarted. Physiology stomped the last of his digits: the virgin sent himself over the edge that he tried so hard to cling to.

Post-coital comedown flushed his skin an embarrassing shade of red. Its clarity forced him to swallow an even more humiliating truth: even when eating you out, he finished before you. The closest he came to whimpering, Levi mused in defeat. He thought that tonight would be the night he made you cum first. Upset, angered: his frustration was subconsciously taken out in his movements. Taken out on you and your most sensitive area. 

“Y’Yeah…” you hummed, “There. Right there, Levi.”

One brow shot up in confusion. His mouth remained at work, his expression demanded: Huh?!

With your eyes fluttered shut, you unknowingly answered his question: “F’Fuck…” your voice was sweet and syrupy, then seering and screaming, “F’Fuck! Oh, fuck, Levi!!”

By now, he had come to know what that meant. Hands instinctively pressed down on your hips. Fingers spread you wide and shameless. Strong and innate were the final movements that got you there: circling your clit, massaging your middle, fucking your deepest depths. The physical game was one he was learning, but the mental one - he was an expert in. 

“Yeah, that’s it…” Levi relished the way your ridges clung to him. He was nothing in this moment. All consuming was his longing to make you cum. To you, it was an order. In his perspective, he was begging. “Come on, let go,” at last, his unparalleled praise, “my good girl…”

Levi’s low and luscious voice melodied your gasps and writhes - the crudest symphony: you lost yourself in it. The lightning: a tidal wave. The thunder: a flash flood. From your center and through every capillary, achievement and ecstasy soaked your entirety - and soaked him. 

Mere seconds after its onset, you consciously snapped from your orgasm. Body still rocked by ripples, voice interrupted by them, you looked down to Levi - drenched from bangs to clavicle - and panicked, “L’Le-vi? Are you… alright?”

Levi snickered briefly, the current of his laughs chill on your sweat-covered thighs. With two fingers, he massaged your vulva still twitching, “You’re the one I should be asking about.”

Still catching your breath, you coughed lightly and inexplicably stuttered, “Y’Yeah.”

“So you’re ready for round two?”

Your stutters inexplicably cured: “Yeah.”

Kinktober Year 3 Masterlist

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi #levi ackerman #levi x you #levi ackerman x you #smut #specials #kinktober year 3 #anlian writes #my writing #alias's

[pixydustworld]

Fate found Hermione Granger in the crowded Ministry cafeteria. 

She had done her best to outrun it, but it was inevitable. Like the ocean finding the shore, like the mist that settled in the meadow right before sunrise; something that always happened, spiraling far beyond her control. Accepting defeat, however, had never been in her nature. 

She would go down fighting, glorious in her anger. 

“I think you’d be happier if you just let it happen.” 

Ginny flinched after the words left her lips. “I mean,” she hurried to correct herself, cheeks red, “It’s just easier. Less painful.”

Hermione forced a smile. “I’m fine with the pain.” She said, ignoring the aching hole in her chest as she watched Blaise curve a comforting hand across her friend's shoulder, warm and present and possessive. An Alpha comforting his Omega. “And besides. I like belonging to myself.”

“We just want you to be happy.” Blaise shrugged. “How many heats have you done on your own? Five? Six? It’s unhealthy to do this to yourself, Hermione, and wrong  —”

“Thank you.” Hermione interrupted him. “But I’m alright.”

It was a familiar conversation, one she knew well; at the start, Hermione had assumed she’d present as a Beta — Ron was one, she would be one, too. 

When her Heat had come, unrelenting and debilitatingly unavoidable, she had known the truth: too bitter to be disregarded, too blatant to be ignored. She was an Omega, praised, prized and often, procured. 

“This doesn’t change anything.” Harry had insisted a few days after she’d Presented, holding her close to his chest, fingers trailing along her spine. “You’re still you.” Then he had smiled down at her, self deprecating and familiar, like she remembered, like he’d always been. “And I’m still me.”

Harry had been wrong, as he often was. Perhaps things hadn’t changed much for him: being an Alpha was no different than his life before — but her presentation had changed everything.

“It’s just.” Ginny’s voice brought her back to the present, persistent in a way that could never be completely kind, “I know what you’re going through. You’re torturing yourself. ”

“I’ve been tortured.” Hermione said. The free coffee was not worth this interrogation, nor was the muffin Blaise had proudly presented to her (Alpha instincts, bleeding like an open wound across all of his actions), “It feels much worse than this.”

“Do you have a plan?” Blaise blurted out, seemingly unable to contain himself any longer. He was blunt and unafraid of her wrath, like all Alpha’s were — all except Harry, who still remembered who she was underneath everything. Saw her for who she properly was. “For your next one?”

“Yes.” Hermione said through her teeth, bravely resisting the urge to throw her coffee in his face. “I’ll be alone. Like I have been. For the last six heats.”

Their conversation was ending, the embers of their time together dwindling, which could only mean one thing. The comment that haunted all her interactions, the ghost at her door, the seed of hope that sprouted in Ginny’s chest, determined to grow under any condition. 

“What about the Alpha from that one time?” Ginny asked in a rush of words, determined to get it out before Hermione cut her off. “The last one you were with before this whole celibacy thing started. We should get him — ”

“No.”

Memories of their time spent together flashed before Hermione’s eyes, a mirage of naked flesh and shuddering pleasure. Pain bloomed deeper in her chest at the thought and Hermione blinked everything away 

“I could try to find him.” Blaise was saying, like he always did. A broken record of concern, echoing over and over. “Let me try, Hermione — ”

“It’s alright.” Hermione said, soothing her friends. A warm bandage of care, a nice thought. “I didn’t know him. And even if you did manage to find him, I don’t think I’d even recognize him.” She smiled, then. Hopeful about finally getting to leave. “It just wasn’t meant to be.”

It sounded like the truth.

 Or at least, she hoped it did.

“I should go.” Hermione said in a cheerful voice, pushing the rest of her muffin towards Blaise — who, to his credit, hesitated an appropriate amount of time before starting to eat — “It should start tonight, so I’ve still got a few hours left.” 

A few more hours to convince herself she was making the right choice. 

“Do you need Harry to come by?” Ginny blinked at her. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind helping you.”

“I’m sure he would.” Hermione frowned, wrinkling her nose at the thought. “I think Theo would mind, too.”

“I don’t think Tho would, actually.” Blaise mused through a mouthful of muffin. “He’s always liked you.”

Their voices blurred together as they started discussing the probability of her childhood best friend and his boyfriend helping her through her Heat — something Hermione did not want nor had she asked for. In fact, she had a feeling everyone involved would be miserable. Everyone but Theo, she supposed. He did like her. 

Hermione knew the pressure was out of care, but she was weary from the way her friends loved. Burdened by their thoughts about her life, trembling limbs growing heavy under the weight of their concern. 

She did her Heats alone because the other option was too much. The idea that her life could be fixed so simply by another person, was too much for her to acknowledge. It was beyond comprehension — she was her own, the bones beneath her skin the only support she’d ever need. 

That, however, didn't stop Ginny from trying. 

Hermione was opening her mouth to say something when she felt it: the shift in the air, the prickle of awareness across her neck — like waking up after a long, thick sleep. 

He was here.

Which meant she had to leave.

“I’ll send an owl once it’s over.” Hermione interrupted them, ignoring the sound her chair made as it scraped across the floor. “Love you both.”

“Hermione!” Ginny called after her, but she kept going. The door was in sight — all she had to do was leave. It was simple, beautiful and right; she would go back to her office, floo back to her flat and lock herself in her bedroom for the next three days. It would hurt to do her Heat alone (it always did), but that was the price of freedom. Her fingers closed around the handle, beginning to push the door open —

Until Draco Malfoy caught her wrist and tugged. 

A fox in a trap. Soon, the snow would bloom red with blood, leaving her body to freeze, no warmth left behind. No warmth but his own — and that was all he wanted, wasn't it? To be her only source of survival?

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

She had. 

If he entered the room, Hermione left — if he caught her eye in the Atrium, Hermione blinked and faked interest in the crown molding (very ornate!). If he called her name in the hallways, Hermione pretended not to hear. She ignored his owls, his persistent requests to schedule a meeting — once she’d seen him waiting for her out in front of her office and she’d spent her entire lunch in a storage closet, eating her chicken tikka masala on an overturned bucket.

 Hermione Granger did a very good job at pretending like Draco Malfoy did not exist. 

“I have not been avoiding you.” She hissed. They were surrounded on all sides — leave it to Ginny to pick the busiest time for her impromptu ambush — but it felt like they were the only two people in the room. And it was a dangerous thing, being alone with him. “I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy?”

He looked the same as he always did. Pressed suit, not a hair out of place, towering above her frame. But different, too. His breath uneven, his eyes were dark, murky with something else — something familiar. He’d looked the same that night. When her Heat had come and he had found her. Hunted her, she supposed. 

And she had let him.

“Yes.” Hermione tugged at her wrist in his grasp, but he tightened his hold. “I have a life, you know. One that is my own.”

His eyes narrowed slightly at her tone. “Am I to be expected to endure more torture?”

Fucking Draco Malfoy had been a bad idea, spending her entire Heat with him had been a mistake of massive proportions. It had ruined the careful world she had so lovingly built for herself. As soon as she had blinked back to awareness, Hermione had scrambled from Malfoy’s arms, ignoring the hurt that blossomed at the loss of his touch. Everything had felt too right, too perfect. Dangerously close to forever, which was not something Hermione could afford. “This is never happening again.” She had spat in his direction, trembling fingers searching in the darkness for her clothing.  “Hermione,” He had begun, voice warm with a kindness she didn't expect or deserve. “Please, darling  — ”

“Don’t call me that.” She hadn’t looked at him, hadn’t seen the heartbreak on his face. “Let’s pretend like this never happened, alright?” Hermione hadn’t found his bite mark until much later. It was alright, she had rationalized with herself, curled up in a ball on her living room floor, fingers heavy on her neck, tracing the shapes he had left behind. She hadn’t bit him, they weren’t bonded, they weren't mates — it was all fine. The next morning, Hermione had seen it. A set of tiny little teeth marks on his gland, precise and perfect, even when she was delirious with want. So proudly displayed, collar tugged purposefully out of the way. Then, her running had begun. And ever faithful, he had followed.

“Yes.” Hermione said, voice tight. “I’ll be out until Friday.”

“Will you need me?”

That was the worst part, his acceptance. Willing to take whatever she gave him, even if it was nothing at all. 

Draco Malfoy had steadily changed over time, like a plant finally given the opportunity to spread their roots and grow properly. Change, like rain, washed away all that once was, leaving behind someone else entirely. 

Someone willing to endure pain, just because she had decided it. 

“No.” Hermione said softly. Just being around him was enough to soothe the ache in her soul. His grip on her wrist had softened, the warmth from his touch extending across her flesh, fire catching and spreading.

Hermione forced herself to tug herself free from his grasp, inhaling slightly when his fingers trailed across her skin as she pulled away. “I’ll be alright.”

“Hm.” Malfoy said. “I highly doubt that.”

“I don’t need your help.” Hermione said. She wasn’t afraid of him. Not when she was sixteen and he’d pressed his wand against her neck in Umbrdige’s office, and certainly not now.  “I don’t belong to you.”

His fingers on her neck, brushing her curls aside; she could glamor the scars away all she liked, but he could still feel the indentation his teeth had left behind on her flesh. 

He frowned, condescending and full of fake sympathy.  “I think you do, baby.” 

Hours later, Hermione was almost ready. Her wards were tight, her floo locking behind Ron after he left, the box of premade meals he’d brought her resting happily in her fridge. There was only one thing left to do:

Poking her head out into the back garden, she found what she was looking for.

“It’s supposed to snow.”

Malfoy didn’t look up from his book. “I’m a Wizard, aren't I?”

“Wizard’s can still get hypothermia.” 

He looked up then, eyes soft. If it had been anyone else, Hermione would have thought they looked tender. “I’ll be fine.” 

“You can always go home.”

They both knew he wouldn't. 

“You know me, Granger.” Draco grinned. “I sit and stay, like all the good dogs do.”

She hovered on the edge of her doorway, watching her breath turn frosty in the night air. A storm on the horizon, promising to blow away all her neat plans. He watched her as she fidgeted. Not for the first time, Hermione wished, almost desperately, that she was born different. Born to be soft and accepting. Someone who would fall effortlessly into his outstretched hands.

She ran because she was afraid of the weight of her own feelings, terrified of what happiness could truly mean; being an Omega meant a loss of self, so she clung to her bitter solitude. Fingernails cracking from the pressure of holding herself together, a mouth full of blood from how hard she bit her tongue, preventing herself from calling out his name.

“It’s alright.” Malfoy said, cracking the silence that had swirled between them. “Go back inside. I’ll be right out here, keeping all the baddies away.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. “I’m not scared.”

“No?”

“No.” Hermione hesitated. It felt almost like carving herself apart, offering a part of herself. Trembling hands, covered in her own blood. “I have you.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, fingers tightening around the book, knuckles white. “I’ll be here.” He said. “Whenever you’re ready.” 

In the middle of the night, Hermione jerked awake. 

Stumbling blindly through the house, she found the back door. The glass was cool against her naked skin as she sagged to the floor, heaving breaths leaving her lips, trembling limbs and a pain that spread like poison, blooming across her flesh.

Draco was pressed against the other side of the door, his breath fogging up the glass. Waiting for her to come to him.

“Hi, baby.”

Fat tears were dripping down her neck, sticky and wet. “Hi.” She whispered.

She could smell him through the glass, the scent of him heavy in the air. It would be so easy to unlock the door, to welcome him inside — to sink blissfully down on his cock, swept away by the pleasure his presence provided.

But Hermione was stubborn. 

Determined to hold her breath the longest underwater, unwilling to lose any competition, even one against her own heart. 

She sank down on her fingers without hesitation, watching him as he watched her. Slick was dripping on the floor, a puddle beneath her shaking knees; uneven movements as she chased pleasure, warm flush crawling across her chest. 

“Beautiful.” Draco breathed. Snowflakes were gathering on the tips of his lashes, but he didn’t shy away from the cold. Eyes fixed and unmoving on her —  taking what she offered. “So perfect, all mine.”

Her fingers twisted inside, building pleasure “Yours.” She agreed. In moments like this, it was impossible to lie to herself. She loved him, wanted to crawl inside his ribcage and sleep until spring; she had bitten him first, after all,  licked at the blood that smeared across his neck — and like always, he had followed over the edge after her. 

Her other fingers found her clit, smearing uneven circles, jolts of pleasure almost eclipsing the pain she felt. Small whimpers escaped her lips as she rutted against her fingers, wetness spreading, unable to stop the scream she felt building in her chest — 

“That’s it.” Draco’s breath was uneven, his forehead pressed against the glass, trying to be as close as he could. “Fuck yourself open for me. I’ve got you.”

Her orgasm temporarily dulled the pain of emptiness and Hermione felt the fuzziness fade, slowly bleeding from her vision. Returning to herself, sweet clarity, only for a moment. 

Draco was breathing heavily, kneeling in the snow. 

It struck her, then, that he’d wait forever. Faithful and present, in the back garden. He belonged to her, just as much as she did to him — perhaps it wasn’t all bad, losing yourself. You gain someone else, in return. 

Hermione tugged the back door open, flinching at the cold. “Come in.”

 Draco was still kneeling, blinking up at her as if she were god, come to rejoin their creation.

“Are you sure?” he asked in a rough voice

“I am.” The snow was blowing in through her open door, but she couldn’t find it within herself to care. “I don’t want to run anymore.”

“You want me?”

“I’ve always wanted you.” The words left her lips on a broken sigh. “I’m just afraid. I don’t know what this means, who I become around you. But I know that I’m afraid that you’ll leave me.”

Draco smiled, soft and slow. “You’ve fed me, baby. I’ll always come back for more.”

“I want, so desperately, to be capable of love. To love and to be loved in return. And.” She felt her breath catch in her throat. “I’m afraid that I’ll find that with you.”

“You will.” He was kneeling before her, arms open, palms facing upwards. The picture of vulnerability, willing and waiting for her to accept him. To become present, to join in at the feast. “You’ll be loved in return, I promise.”

To unequivocally belong to another. The weight of her body, held up by his waiting hands. 

“Please.” Begging, broken and crumbling before him. Like a grand ruin, left behind by time, suddenly being rediscovered. “Please, come inside.”

It was soft, the world. No sound, nothing mattered; just Draco, as he rose from the snow and crossed through her wards. His hands were cool and firm, cradling her jaw between his fingers. “I love you.” He said. “I’d love you even if you weren't mine.”

Hermione nodded, helplessly caught in his grasp. “I love you.” She breathed. “Even when I ran, I knew you’d follow. I knew you’d always come for me.”

A spasm of agony shot up her spine, twisting across her flesh. “It’s starting again.” Hermione groaned, flinching from the pain. “Draco, please —”

Draco’s fingers slid from her jaw to her throat. Holding her in place. “Shh,” He whispered along her hairline, tightening his grasp on her throat. “I know what you need, yeah? You’ll let me give it to you?”

“Yes.” 

“Do you deserve it?”

“Excuse me?” She hissed.

“It’s a simple question, baby.” She could hear the humor in his voice, feel the thickness of his cock, pressing into her back. “Do you deserve it?”

Hermione bit his arm.

“Okay.” He looked down at her, soft and warm. “I was going to be nice. I was going to fuck you on your bed. Spread you open, make you all soft for me.” She whined around his flesh and he pouted sympathetically with her, lower lip protruding. “I know, I would’ve liked that, too. Seeing your pretty little cunt, all puffy and wet, spread out on the sheets before me.”

Hermione let him go, a traitorous drop of spit connecting her lips to his arm. “I like that idea.” She said thickly. “We can do that.”

“No.” Draco smoothed his fingers along the shallow flesh of her neck, thumb pressing down hard on her gland. “Now, I have to fuck you right here on the floor.”

Hermione debated sounding too desperate. Her dripping cunt won out, in the end. “I like that idea.” She said, squirming in his grasp. It wasn't fair that he was wearing clothing and she was naked, nor was it fair that he wasn't currently inside her, making a home for himself between her thighs. “We can do that.”

His fingers slipped between her thighs, sinking inside with ease. Two, then three, twisting her open, slick dripping down his hands, smearing across the cuff of his button down shirt. “Messy.” He mused softly to himself.

Kissing him was easy, like falling asleep. She remembered how it had been last time, soft and sweet — this time, it was brutal. Draco pressed her to the floor, climbing on top of her, crushing her with his larger frame. He kissed like she’d run away from him again — if this was how he’d greet her every time, perhaps she would.

“Inside, inside, inside.” Hermione was babbling against his lips, grabby fingers pushing at his slacks. “I need your cock inside me, please.”

“I should make you wait.” He groaned as he tugged his cock free, smearing it across the sticky wetness of her cunt. “I should torture you.”

“You can.” Hermione promised, shaking fingers wrapping around his cock, dragging it closer and closer to her entrance. “You can tie me up and fuck me for days, or hunt me in the woods, whatever you want, I promise. Just fuck me now, and I’ll give you everything — ”

The push of his cock was enough to start another tremble across her limbs, spreading through her as he fucked her open, shallow thrusts. His thumb heavy on her tongue, his other hand still wrapped around her throat. 

“My girl deserves to be fucked whenever she wants.” He was whispering, teeth sharp against her ear. “You want to sit on my cock during a meeting? I’ll let you. I’ll have to kill everyone after, it’ll be terrible for business, but I’ll do it —”

Hermione gasped around his fingers. “Please,” she groaned. “I’ll be good. Please let me cum.”

Draco frowned. “Baby, it’s rude to talk with your mouth full.” She rolled her eyes, and his grip tightened slightly on her throat. “But I think you need me to fuck some sense into you.” His thrusts were deep and even, lulling her into a haze. Sticky and warm, caught in his trap. “You can’t run from me. I’ll always find what is mine.”

His cock was nudging a part inside her that had her breath catching in her throat, unable to stop the pleasure that was building. Twitching beneath him, breath tumbling from her lips in tiny gasps. Her vision blurred as she looked up at him, sharp teeth and soft eyes, watching her.

When he came, she felt the warmth spreading through her. Like sinking into a hot bath, syrupy and slow; his cock was swelling, locking them together, holding them in place.

Draco tilted his hips softly, still fucking her through his orgasm, fucking himself deeper. “One day.” He groaned, his cum slippery inside her, too much, beginning to drip out from between them. “One day, I’ll fuck a baby into you. And everyone will know how good of a mate I am, keeping you full and warm. They’ll know how perfect you are too, how good  you are at making me cum —”

Just like before, Hermione craned her neck, teeth finding the tender flesh of his neck. She bit down where she had once before, on the mark he’d never hid from — bit until her mouth filled with blood, spilling from her blood, smearing across their bodies. 

Draco moaned, latching onto her neck,biting the scared flesh until he drew blood, reclaiming her. “There.” He slurred, mouth messy and wet, cock still twitching inside her tummy. “We belong to one another.”

Twisting in his hold, Hermione smiled up at him.

#dhr #dhr smut #dhr drabble #dhrtwt #dhr fanfiction #dhr fanfic #dhr fic #dhr ficlet #dramione #dramione ficlet #dramione fanfic #dramione drabble #dramione smut #dramione fic #hermione granger x draco malfoy #hermione x draco #draco x hermione #draco malfoy and hermione granger #hermione granger #draco malfoy #pwp #pwp fics #smut #harry potter smut #hermione granger and draco malfoy #harry potter #ron weasley #ginny weasley #blaise zabini #theodore nott

[little-emerald-snake]

Flogging - Sebastian Sallow X F!MC

🔥 NSFW 🔞 MDNI

It’s my Birthday Special! 🎈🎉🥳

This is basically just a fantasy of mine played out with our lovely Sebastian in honor of my bday ✨

Warnings: au, dom/sub dynamic, bondage, mentions of alcohol use, flogging, praise, pussy spanking as punishment, fingering f receiving, after care lightly implied but not directly written

1.5k words

Sebastian sat back in the plush cobalt chair, his brown eyes roving over his subs beautiful naked body that he’d very carefully tied into a leapfrog bondage tie. Her body folded forward, legs tied to a spreader bar where her hands had been pulled down between her legs and also tied between her legs to the bar, the majority of her weight on her knees and shoulders.

She was already wet, sitting patiently and looking forward obediently. She knew exactly what he wanted from her, he wanted her to do her best today. He promised her that if she really truly wanted to push her boundaries today that he would. But she needed to be unafraid of using her safeword, willing to communicate her needs, and be able to tell him exactly what she wanted.

He took a sip of his whiskey before gently setting the glass beside him on the table. His freckled hand wrapped tightly around the cobalt blue and midnight black leather flogger, lifting it as he stood from the chair.

His boots echoed in the room as he circled her slowly, admiring her submissively bound body like she was prey offered up on a platter. He stopped in front of her, pleased that her eyes remained on the floor. “Look up at me, my love.”

She obeyed immediately, letting her eyes roam their way up over his brown boots, black jeans, light blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and black vest. She only stopped once she met his eyes, the most impeccable brown orbs shining back at her.

He brought the flogger forward, hanging its many tresses teasingly in front of her face. “Is this what you want me to use, my love?”

She nodded, eyes sparkling with a need that had his stomach tightening. He stepped closer, bringing the flogger up, delicately tracing the tresses over her neck, around her shoulder, onto her back, stepping around her to drag it gently down her backside. “Tell me where you want me to hit you with this.”

She swallowed thickly around the words that she wanted to say. She knew this wasn’t the time to be silent, knowing if she couldn’t communicate that he wouldn't provide her with what she so desperately wanted. “I want you to do it to my back, and my ass, maybe a little on my pussy.”

He hummed, unsatisfied. “Do what to those places? You’ll need to be very specific darling. I need you to use big girl words. No tiptoeing around this.”

She swallowed, face heating when two of the tresses traced up her thighs, between her legs. “I want you to flog me in those places. Flog my back and my ass. Flog my pussy too, but I may need that to be gentler than my back and my ass.”

He chuckled lowly, walking a slow circle around her, letting the tresses barely dance across her skin. “Good girl. I knew you had it in you to ask for what you want. Isn’t that right? My capable girl?”

She nods, swallowing. When she looks up at him expectantly he tsks her. “Here I thought you knew my rules, darling. Do you need a reminder on what those are?”

Her face paled and she shook her head. “N-no sir.”

He clicked his tongue, clearly dissatisfied. “Now you’ll follow the rules but you forgot them so easily when you were getting your way. I personally think you need a reminder since you so easily forgot to use your words and address me properly.”

She swallowed harshly as the flogger dropped from his hand, hitting the ground in front of her with a thud. A shiver ran up her spine when he stood beside her, bending over so she could see his face, his hand disappearing behind her. “You’re gonna learn to use your words and you’re going to address me correctly from now on. Instead of counting you’ll say ‘Thank you, sir.’ with every spank. And you’ll use your safeword if you need it. Understood?”

She nodded and felt a bit of relief. “Yes sir. I understand.”

Sebastian nodded in satisfaction, bringing his hand quickly to slap against her pussy. A sharp intake of air was the only sound in the room after his flattened fingers made contact with her sex but she quickly spoke up, realizing that it wasn’t her ass he would be spanking. “Thank you, sir.”

He hummed with satisfaction, grinning at how well she was following the rules now. He spanked her a total of five times on her pussy, each just a bit harder than the last. With each spank came the wobbly sound of her voice thanking him.

When he was done his fingers thrusted inside of her, expertly finding the spongy wall that had her gasping in pleasure, massaging it briefly to cause a rise of pleasure.

As quickly as he began he stopped, sliding his slick soaked finger to her mouth, pleased when she obediently opened her mouth to suck them clean. “That’s such a good girl. Love seeing your pretty little lips wrapped around me.”

He stood up, pulling his licked clean fingers from her mouth and bending to pick up the flogger once again. He had a comfortable grasp on it, swinging its weight around easily in his hand.

The sight had her clenching her thighs together as best as she could. He looked positively in charge from above her. He stepped around behind her, making her nerves jump with excitement. “Ready, my pretty girl? No counting these, I just want you to enjoy.”

She nodded, wiggling her hips teasingly in the air. She was nervous and anxious but had wanted to try this for so long that she was determined to not let her nerves get the best of her. “Y-yes sir.”

He chuckled, bringing the flogger down across her ass with one sturdy hit. It was both gentle and intense all at the same time. Heat spread through her body, pooling near her abused cheek and between her legs.

Another smack resounded across the room, signaling another hit. This one had her uttering a breathy moan and lurching forward. It didn’t hurt, stung a bit but the heat it caused to flood the area had her growing wet between her thighs.

Sebastian seemed to notice this too, groaning as he brought the flogger down against her again, this time across her back. She looked so incredible right now. Tied up for him this way as he spanked her exactly the way she’d asked him to do. “Fuck. You look incredible like this, love. So fucking pretty. Especially this soaking little pussy. Your juices are fucking leaking down your perfect thighs.”

As if to emphasize his words he brought the flogger across her thighs this time, causing her to inhale sharply. This experience was everything she’d ever wanted. The pain and the pleasure was leaving her pleasantly tingling and euphoric.

His next hit came down on her thigh but the tails of the flogger hit her pussy which had an explosive moan pushing from her lips. “Fuck! Yes!”

Sebastian growled, adjusting his stance as he went to strike her again. Her eyes squoze shut as her nerves flared, pleasure and pain signals getting lost in the crossfire, causing her to dribble slick between her legs.

The flogger came down across her thigh, also hitting her pussy just like last time and she arched, pushing her hips out, seeking the pain of the flogger again. “S-Seb! Please…”

He groaned, hard as steel in his black jeans as he swung again. “I know, pretty girl, be patient. I can’t go too hard or it’ll hurt for you later.”

She whined pathetically, eagerly seeking more as she jutted her hips backward. She was desperate for friction at this point, so hot and riled up that maybe just spanking her would tip her over the edge. “Seb please! More…I can take it.”

Their eyes met and a silent conversation took place between them. She was serious. Turned on but still lucid enough to be in control and aware of her body. He swallowed hard, pulling his hand back a bit farther. “Fine. You want it hard? Then you can have it.”

Her eyes sparkled as he reared back, bringing the leather flogger down harder this time directly on her pussy. Sparks went off behind her eyes and she let out something akin to a yelp and a moan.

Sebastian evaluated her response, seeing her return to jutting her hips back, eager for more. He swung again and she rocked as far forward as her bonds would allow. Her pussy spasmed and a broken cry left her throat.

At first he’d thought he’d hurt her, dropping the flogger and dropping to his knees to check on her. She looked up at him, eyes glassy and cheeks flushed in post orgasmic bliss. “T-that was so…intense.”

Relief washed over him and he breathed a sigh of relief, pushing her hair out of her face and kissing her gently while his fingers worked on the ropes keeping her tied to the bar. “You did absolutely incredible, love. You even came for me. Such a good girl.”

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow smut #birthday #little emerald snake

[favcharacterpoll]

ROUND TWO, MATCH ONE HUNDRED AND TWELVE: RED GUY VS. ZHANNA

Red Guy from Don't Hug Me, I'm Scared faces Zhanna from Team Fortress 2. Who do you like more?

Red Guy Propaganda:

"autism"

"a vote for red guy is a vote for gay autism"

"red guy is the limbo bound scrungly of my life"

Zhanna Propaganda:

"Wowza! Based, strong, muscular woman who is unafraid to fight naked covered in honey and calls her fiance her beloved maggot-bear and the drill sergeant of her heart. what more could you want in a character."

"A VOTE FOR ZHANNA IS A VOTE FOR TRANS LESBIANS EVERYWHERE. AS IN IM THE TRANS LESBIAN SHE CAN BE BI"

"as a lesbian i must choose the hot russian lady who snaps peoples necks with her fiance"

#polls #red guy #dhmis #dhmis red guy #dont hug me im scared #tf2 zhanna #zhanna tf2 #tf2 #team fortress 2 #team fortress two