#adam delved

[ehj3]

DELVING AND SPANNING

“When Adam delved and Eve span, Who was then the gentleman?” —John Ball This question was the inspiration for this drawing. It’s from a sermon (or several) by John Ball who was an English heretic priest active and eventually hanged, drawn, and quartered in the middle 1300s. It continues: “From the beginning all men by nature were created alike, and our bondage or servitude came in by the unjust…

[ubyr-babaj]

Looking through Nagaitis' booklist for Hickey and I guess that's the first time I actually want to talk to the man.

[gxlden-angels]

I need Americans that were never Christian™️ to realize that the average conservative cult christian's thoughts are basically that one episode of Spongebob where he gets elected Hall Monitor and gives a speech with "Crime and Punishment. Punishment and Crime"

[ambientwitch]

I have been wondering about the actual source of the joan sticker because she’s flipped horizontally the opposite way from the one in the saints for girls sticker book... All of these seemingly come from “Aquinas Press” but they must have gotten the “sticker pack” rather than the “sticker book.” Posts a normal person would make

[thelionheartedo3]

writing chaptered fics outta order when people are waiting for the next chapter IN ORDER....I'm doing gr8

[parvum-draconis]

❛ you okay? caught you staring off into space again. ❜ from mythos Adam

Cain paused in his ruminations to look over at Adam, an apologetic smile on his face "I'm okay...just thinking..." he had many things on his mind, but most of them were not pleasant...and he would rather not burden his stepfather with his worries about what would happen to him when the universe and it's gods finally tired of him and forced him to shed his mortal coil. Would he go to hell or would he just...stop existing? The idea of going to heaven was not something he entertained...but he was glad his stepfather had gotten in at least. The rest of the family was together...that would have to be enough.

@mythicvibes

[lumiereandcogsworth]

i headcanon adam as autistic and belle having adhd. but it’s so funny to me because i’ll read my older fics before i even thought of those headcanons and it’s like, i was writing them like that the entire gotdamn time!! it’s like:

me: adam is blunt and picky and weirdly specific about everything and lives by his own rules that only make sense to him and hates people and is only good at socializing with them because he knows how to speak their language. he hates change and plans his days very strictly. also he’s very interested in fashion and maps. and belle? oh she’s always starting projects and never finishing them. her head is a constant stream of ideas and thoughts and questions. she needs to know how everything works and WHY. she has insane time-blindness and gets distracted easily but she can also get so hyper-focused on something she'll be lost to the world for hours even days.

me, much later after having all those thoughts and just naturally writing them like that for years: ooooooohhhhhh

[multi-fandom-imagine]

ミ★: Lucifer Morningstar giving you oral.

A/n: I said it was gonna happen so here it is.

It wasn't Lucifer's fault that he fell for you, you were so sweet, so kind to Charlie that it just happened. He was over the moon knowing that you felt the same way, I mean it's not like he knew you were Adam's wife...ex as you would often correct him given that the angel was the one that sent you to hell.

Though it was how you told him that you never had a real orgasm, that Adam refused to even go down on you. He knew that he had to fix that, he was going to make you scream his name.

Hovering over you, Lucifer ran his tongue over his lips. You looked so good, so beautiful, from your soft curves, the way your skin glowed in the dim light, it was a vision that never failed to captivate him.

As Lucifer shifted his body on the bed, he let his fingers trace a path from your collarbone down to the gentle swell of your breasts. His touch was feather light, teasing as a small whimper escaped your lips.

A smirked formed on his lips, his forked tongue poking through his lips as he lowered himself to the edge of the bed. His eyes locking with yours, his voice low and filled with hunger.

"Spread your legs for me, my pretty little angel." His voice was laced with anticipation. "I want to taste you, make you scream my name."

He then delved between your thighs, his tongue eager to please you, his lips and tongue working in tandem to bring you to the heights of pleasure. He devoured you with a hunger, your gasp's and moans only fueling him.

Lucifer's forked tongue gliding across your clit, gently sucking the bud as your nails dug into the sheets.

He was smiling now, couldn't help but feel happy knowing that he was the one giving you pleasure. As he continued to tease and pleasure you, his fingers found his way to your entrance, slipping inside to further intensify the sensations. Lucifer continued to explore you with his mouth, his tongue tracing patterns over your sensitive flesh, his fingers thrusting rhythmically within you.

He relished in the sounds of your pleasure, the way your moans filled the room, spurring him on to push you further towards ecstasy.

He reveled in the taste of you, the way you quivered beneath your touch, your body trembling with each wave of pleasure that washed over you. He was going to commit these sound's to his memory.

And when you finally reached your climax, your body convulsing with pleasure, he held you tightly, his lips pressed against your trembling thighs as he rode out your release. Only when he was certain you had been thoroughly satisfied, Lucifer pulled away, a satisfied smirk gracing his lips.

He could still taste you and god did he already miss taste.

"My dearest" Lucifer's voice filled with adoration. "You are intoxicating as ever, I will make sure you will be treated how you deserved to be treated."

Leaning in, Lucifer nuzzled his nose into your neck. "Rest assured, I will alway's find you attractive. You are mine and I will make sure you are always satisfied."

Feeling warmth creep up your cheeks, you did your best avoid eye contact with Adam as Lucifer clutched you tightly to his chest.

"YOU FUCKED MY WIFE!"

A slow smirk formed on Lucifers lip's as he clutched you tightly to his chest. One hand moving to his lips as he made a v with his fingers. "We did a lot more than fuck."

[deathinfeathers]

.

[valarhalla]

Ok tumblr friends. I’m trying to spend less time on the internet these days, and I LOVE reading non-fiction books, but trying to find recommendations for new books is a nightmare. Any time I try to look up good new non-fiction books the results are all like “would you like to read an autobiography of Paul Newman or New Reasons We’re All Doomed” and that just. Doesn’t Work for Me. So I’m asking for recs here. I’m open to books about literally any field or topic. Only caveats are that hard sciences have to be on a level I can understand as a humanities person, and medical stuff can’t be too gory (ie I loved Siddhartha Mukherjee’s The Gene and The Song of the Cell, but can’t stomach The Mother of all Maladies). And nothing TOO miserable, but I have a fairly high tolerance for historical stuff. I’m particularly fond of micro-history and books that delve into multiple overlapping topics.

As a sampling, here are some books I’ve read and particularly enjoyed in the last two years:

Prairie Fires: The American Dreams of Laura Ingalls Wilder by Caroline Fraser

The Cooking Gene by Michael Twitty

The Gene: An Intimate History by Siddhartha Mukherjee

Song of the Cell by Siddhartha Mukherjee

On Savage Shores: How Indigenous Americans Discovered Europe by Caroline Pennock

Fifth Sun: A New History of the Aztecs by Camilla Townsend

The Five: The Untold Lives of the Victims of Jack the Ripper by Hallie Rubenhold

The Last Days of the Incas by Kim McQuarrie 

The Dream and the Nightmare: The Story of the Syrians who Boarded the Titanic by Leila Salloum Elias

Life on a Young Planet: The First Three Billion Yeats by Andrew Knoll

Salt: A World History by Mark Kurlansky

The Food of a Younger Land by Mark Kurlansky

Mastering the Art of Soviet Cooking by Anya von Bremzen

Jesus and John Wayne by Kristine Kobes du Mez

Kingdom of Characters: The Language Revolution that made China Modern by JIng Tsu

The Last Island: Discovery, Defiance, and the Most Elusive Tribe on Earth by Adam Goodheart

Entangled Life by Merlin Sheldrake

National Dish: Around the World in Search of Food, History, and the Meaning of Home by Anya von Bremzen

The Horse, the Wheel, and Language: How Bronze-Age Riders from the Eurasian Steppes Shaped the Modern World by David W. Anthony

The Wager: A Tale of Shipwreck, Mutiny, and Murder by David Grann

Fire away!

[yawnderu]

Realistic cat girl who doesn't like attention until she's in heat...?

Like usually a brat, yeah. But you know what cats are doing the second they're in heat? Ass in the face and SCREAMING.

Ghost goes and sits on the couch, cat!girl coming out immediately, Whining loudly, crawling into his lap and just sticking her butt into Simon's face and letting her arms hang off the couch, making air biscuits. All while just wiggling her hips, as if the position is much simon can work with.

(other than eating her out from the back <3)

Yes!! Simon's catgirl girlfriend absolutely dislikes his attention unless she's in heat💗

Simon's eyes were on you the moment you came strutting out of his bedroom, your hard nipples poking out of the shirt you were wearing— one of his shirts, which was still dirty and was previously in the laundry basket only to be dug out by your bratty paws.

He watches in amusement as you say nothing to him, simply offering him a half-lidded glare from over your shoulder as you set on his lap, flexible body taking a few seconds to switch positions, your bare ass right in his face, loud whines and purrs coming out of your body. He tries to move his head away, thinking it's simply one of your bratty displays of ''affection'', only realizing what's going on when you refuse to move, wiggling your hips in front of him.

“That bad, huh?” Simon teases, his calloused hand trailing up from your shoulders to your ass, seeing your back arch instinctively with his touch. You simply let out another loud whine until he gets the message, starting to lift up the shirt while his free hand keeps running up and down your spine.

“Fuckin' hell...” He whispers, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down when he realizes just how needy you are. He stares at your sopping pussy for a few seconds before adjusting your hips and leaning down, his tongue flicking out to taste your slick, his actions a mix of dominance and lust.

He can feel his cock getting hard from just tasting you, half-lidded brown eyes closing when he sees your arms hanging off the couch, fluffy paws making air biscuits while he eats you out. Your back arches just to press your pussy closer to his mouth, making Simon smirk as his tongue continues to lap at your sensitive cunt.

He shifts on the couch, his warm tongue delving deeper into your cunt, his actions becoming needier by the moment as if you're not the one who needs a proper fucking. His free hand comes up to spank your ass, only making your whines grow shamelessly louder.

“Dirty fuckin' thing, shoving your filthy cunt in my face...” He scolds playfully, wanting to see just how bad you were having it. Normally, you would've smacked him in the head with your paw for even looking at you for a bit too long, but right now? All you can do is whine, pushing your ass closer to his face.

“It's not filthy.” Your defiance shines through even when all your warm body needs is to get fucked by Simon, clenching around nothing when you think about having his thick, veiny cock inside you again. He lets out a soft chuckle before pushing you away from him gently, not even having the time to clean his mouth before you're straddling him, lips crashing against his as you rub your sopping cunt against his hardened cock, shamelessly tasting your own juices on his tongue.

[blurboki]

topping jisung based off yesterdays poll 😵‍💫😵‍💫

“shit- wait- babe hold oN-“ the words fall from jisung’s tongue in a needy whine, head thrown back displaying his adorable heart-shaped adams apple.

one hand gripping the sheets, the other holding your waist as you drop lower and lower, taking him deeper and deeper up till the hilt. yet while you shakily sigh with satisfaction, your boyfriend beneath you is ultimately quivering, lip pulled between his teeth while tears bead on his waterline.

fuck. he’s going to combust at this rate.

he’d promised after tour that he’d let you do whatever you wanted, but han hadn’t expected this. hadn’t expected to be pushed onto the bed the moment he stepped through the door, stripped down to only his boxers and absolutely spoiled with the best head of his life.

that was, before you stopped right before he came, giving his flushed head, leaking with buds of precum, a soft kiss.

the sound he let out? pornographic, hips frantically jutting upwards in search of friction, anything to reach his high.

and you gave him the innocent, most fuckable expression imaginable, pulling your laced panties to the side to align yourself and sink.

now to the present with your cunt filled to the brim with him, han heaved, pinpricks of sweat decorating his forehead while he tried holding himself together.

“relax baby, i’m gonna make you feel good.”

no. that was his line when you took him from behind, face pressed into your pillow while he cooed at how pretty you looked being such a slut. not like this, where he was begging instead, pupils blown watching you bounce like you’re life depended it.

“a..ah, ‘m glad you’re home, ‘missed you—“ you babble, leaning down to kiss his parted lips so he can taste himself on your tongue.

whispering so sweet about how you missed him makes him want to fucking ruin you. makes him want to make you his over and over till all you can say is his name.

brows knitting with his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, he takes control of the roll of your hips, securing a orgasm-worthy view of your hole eagerly swallowing him which earns a low groan rumbling at the back of his throat.

“‘missed you, bub. ‘missed my cock, yeah?

fuck. he’s convinced you’re the fuckin’ cutest when you go dumb on his cock, too caught up in pleasure to properly reply while deliciously squeezing him with that warm cunt of yours.

patting the skin of your ass, he lands a not-enough-to-hurt but firm slap there, soaking up the cry you whine in return.

“use your words, baby. tell me.” middle finger expertly delving to spell his name on your puffy clit, he watches you unravel, movement uncontrollably stuttering as you chase approaching euphoria faster than ever before.

“oh my god oh my god sungie-— hngh, missed you so much inside of me. ugh, please! come inside. c’mon, come inside.” your words are rushed, eyes already beginning to roll back, nails raking his chest.

your voice, your scent, the downright sinful sound of your bodies rutting against each other, he’s quite literally moaning at this rate—fingers digging into your hips so hard you’ll have bruises, but neither of you can think, too focused on the mind-numbing ecstasy to consider anything else.

“gonna fill you up so well, ‘kay bub? stuff you full of me.” it’s jisung’s turn to whine, pushing you down atop him to take his hot ropes of his cum that drool onto his thighs from where you stay connected.

best part? he kept rubbing your swollen bud back n forth, chuckling when you creamed all over yourself and him that he’d certainly make you get on your knees and lick up later.

blurboki, july 2023 ©

[ghoulsbounty]

Hi! I wanted to request a TH/fem reader and RZMM/fem reader

Maybe like a how would they show possessiveness over someone? A little angsty bc they're big guys and they would definitely manhandle their so in the heat of the moment

How Thomas Hewitt and RZ!Michael Myers Show Possessiveness Over You

Warnings: smut (18+), aggressive sex, slight mention of dumbification, manhandling, bruising/mark making, angst, obsession, stripping, stalking, slight yandere i guess?, possessiveness, canon-typical violence, control.

Words: 2.7K

A/N: Anon, thank you so much for my first slasher request! I love these boys so much and wanted to delve into their intentions behind their protectiveness a little, cause I think it would be very different for both. This is my first time writing a headcanon, I hope I've done you proud. I’d love to know what you all think to this, and feel free to send me more requests 💌

Thomas Hewitt

→ Thomas's struggle with social norms makes his possessiveness glaringly apparent. He perceives everyone outside the family as a potential threat to his happiness, particularly when it concerns you. His demeanour shifts abruptly at the slightest hint of danger; his typically measured movements become swift and aggressive. Despite his efforts to restrain his emotions in public, such as at the Cele Community Centre where you and his mother work, Thomas often finds himself instinctively drawn to your side. His hand firmly grasps the fabric of your shirt, his protective stance evident to anyone who dares to look at you. His gaze sweeps the surroundings with a discerning eye, meticulously assessing each customer until you gently remove his grip and convince him to wait in the back.

→ Thomas's overprotectiveness occasionally acts as a double-edged sword, simultaneously shielding you from harm while subtly restricting your freedom. As a man of few words, he struggles to articulate the depth of his need to keep you safe, resulting in actions that may be misinterpreted as possessiveness rather than genuine concern or fear of losing you. He means well, but it can feel suffocating.

→ Preferring to keep you within his line of sight whenever possible, Thomas's protective instincts often clash with the demands of daily life, leading to occasional conflicts with Charlie over the use of his time. The older man's frustration with what he perceives as your bad influence over Thomas' attention to his work further exacerbates tensions within the household. 

→ Certain areas of the house are off limits to you. The basement serves as a sanctuary for Thomas's work, and he is adamant that you are shielded from the horrors that happen inside. However, he still insists on your presence nearby, perched on the steps that lead down to the space or listening to the radio in the dining room upstairs. Your proximity seems to offer him a sense of security and focus, enabling him to delve into his his task with unwavering concentration and produce some of his best work.

→ Thomas finds solace in words of affirmation and constantly seeks reassurance from you. Despite the intimacy you share and the countless times you've assured him otherwise, he harbours an unshakeable fear that if he loosens his grip even for a moment, you might slip away from him. This nagging insecurity gnaws at him, overshadowing moments of connection, leaving him perpetually haunted by the possibility of losing you.

→ Physical gestures become one your languages of reassurance. You hold his hand tightly, intertwining your fingers as a silent promise that you're there for him. Running your fingers through his hair as he nuzzles into you becomes a comforting ritual, soothing both him and you. Your touch on his chest, just over his heart, keeps his anxieties at bay.

→ Words also become a source of comfort for Thomas. You express your pride in him, highlighting his strengths and the ways he makes your life better. You tell him how happy you are to have him by your side, emphasizing that he's not just your protector but also your partner. Sometimes, the simplest affirmations have the greatest impact on Thomas. Hearing you call him "yours" fills him with a sense of belonging and purpose, and when you tell him that he's been good, he can't help but prove just how good he can be by filling you with his fingers, tongue or cock.

→ Thomas feels most valued when you grant him your undivided attention and allow him to reciprocate. He revels in spending hours between your legs, skilfully coaxing orgasm after orgasm from your willing body until you're left a whimpering, trembling mess beneath him. Despite his efforts to maintain control in your relationship, you always seem to hold the upper hand, which is why he finds solace in reducing you to a thoroughly fucked-out state on his bed. In those moments, with your mind blissfully empty and your body consumed by a primal hunger for his touch, he feels a sense of power and satisfaction unlike any other.

→ Despite this, the mounting tensions within the household, particularly with Charlie, often leave Thomas grappling with pent-up aggression. As the demands on his time intensify, with Charlie clamouring for more of Thomas's attention and you taking on additional shifts at the community centre to assist his mother, Thomas finds it increasingly challenging to maintain his composure.

→ You've become attuned to the subtle shifts in his demeanour, recognizing the tell-tale signs when he's received a stern tongue lashing from his uncle or had a particularly taxing session in the basement. Thomas' simmering rage begins to permeate his interactions with you. His touch, once tender and reassuring, now carries an undercurrent of tension. The few words he mutters in your presence are laced with frustration and discontent, rather than devotion.

→ Despite your best efforts to sooth him, there are moments when Thomas's volatile emotions threaten to overwhelm him. In those instances, you find yourself walking on eggshells, navigating the precarious balance between offering solace and inadvertently stoking the flames of his anger. You are never fearful of Thomas, but these are the times when you remove yourself from his presence when possible. That is, until you learn that the best way to calm him during these storms is with your body.

→ Thomas's heavy-handed nature becomes even more pronounced during these moments of heightened emotion. He handles you with a forcefulness that borders on brutality, moulding and contorting your body into painful positions that elicit tears of discomfort. While he typically refrains from spanking you unless requested, in these instances, his large hand comes crashing down upon your flesh with punishing force, leaving behind welts and bruises that you carry for days. Unlike his usual attentiveness to your pleasure, Thomas's focus shifts solely towards finding an outlet for his frustration, using your body as a means to an end in his quest for release. He bites, scratches, and fucks every inch of you with an almost desperate intensity, seeking solace in the physical connection between you.

→ Yet, there are fleeting moments of clarity when the clouds in his eyes dissipate, and the gentle giant you know and love re-emerges. It's in these moments of vulnerability that you offer him comfort, reassuring him that he can take what he needs from you, and that you will still love him.

→ After the intensity of the moment subsides, Thomas retreats into the solitude of the basement, locking himself away as a form of self-imposed punishment for his mistreatment of you. Despite your efforts to coax him out, reassuring him of your well-being and offering comfort, he remains secluded until he feels ready to face you once more. When Thomas finally does emerge, you're quick to envelop him in the warmth of your affection and reassurance. With a soft kiss to his leather-clad cheek, you convey your unwavering support and understanding, letting him know that you harbour no resentment towards him.

→ In the aftermath of the encounter, Thomas's protective instincts kick into overdrive as he tends to any wounds that adorn your body, his touch gentle yet purposeful. It's in these moments that his true nature shines through—he may be heavy-handed and prone to bouts of aggression, but above all else, he possesses a deep-seated desire to care for and protect you, to make amends for any harm he may have caused.

RZ!Michael Myers

→ Michael's possessive nature over you begins with an intense and inexplicable fixation. From the moment his eyes land on you, something primal within him snaps, and he becomes singularly obsessed with making you his own.

→ He can't quite explain what draws him to the Red Rabbit Lounge that evening, but as he leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath after a harrowing escape from Smith's Grove, he is immediately captivated when you emerge from the back door. Unlike others who shrink away from him in fear, you meet his gaze with a calm demeanour, lighting your cigarette and casually pointing out his papier-mâché mask. Your nonchalant remark about liking the orange because it reminds you of your favourite holiday only adds to the intrigue, sparking something deep within Michael's psyche.

→ Following that initial encounter, Michael becomes an omnipresent presence in your life, a shadow that lingers at the edges of your awareness. You sense him in the periphery of your vision, catch glimpses of his shadow darting past windows, and hear the faintest rustle of his breath in the stillness of the night. He becomes your unseen companion, meticulously observing your every move. He studies your routines and habits, committing them to memory with an almost obsessive attention to detail. Always one step ahead, he waits patiently until the opportune moment presents itself to make his presence truly known.

→ Michael finds immense pleasure in the exhilarating pursuit of you, convinced that you share in his enjoyment of the chase. He keenly observes the subtle signs of your awareness, noticing the wry smirk that graces your lips when you sense his presence nearby. In those moments, he imagines feeling the same giddiness that surges through you when he lightly brushes your hair, a fleeting touch that leaves you yearning for more, even as it vanishes before you can turn around. The first time you called out to him, he battled against every instinct urging him to step out from the shadows and claim you as his own. Despite the overwhelming desire possess you, he restrains himself, savouring the anticipation of the inevitable moment when he would finally make his move.

→ In Michael's twisted psyche, you are more than just a person; you are a coveted prize that he will protect at all costs. He perceives himself as the sole rightful owner of your being, and he harbours an intense fixation on claiming you as his own.

→ As the regular patrons of the lounge mysteriously vanish one by one, leaving a bewildered community in their wake, Michael remains a silent observer, his gaze fixed unwaveringly upon you. He knows all too well the allure of your presence, the captivating dance you perform for these men, reminiscent of the performances his late mother once gave. Yet, while others may see you as an entertainer, Michael sees something far deeper—a connection, a possession, a symbol of his ultimate dominance that he must preserve.

→ From the shadows, he watches as you bare your body to these patrons. To Michael, it doesn't matter whether you are aware of his claim over you; what matters is that he sees you as his, and he will go to any lengths to ensure that no one dares to challenge him. In his mind, you are his alone, and he will stop at nothing to secure what he believes is rightfully his.

→ When Michael finally decides to collect his prize, it's in the eerie stillness of the night. He patiently waits in the shadows of your home, a silent sentinel standing rigidly in the corner of your bedroom as he observes your every move. You can feel his presence, an unspoken acknowledgment that he has come to stake his claim on his property.

→ As you undress, acutely aware of his watchful gaze, a shiver runs down your spine. There's a palpable tension in the air, a sense of anticipation mingled with apprehension. Yet, despite the unease that courses through you, there's also a strange allure, a primal instinct drawing you inexorably towards him. When you finally coax him from the shadows, he engulfs you in his arms with a ferocity that takes your breath away. The force of his embrace is suffocating, his touch demanding as he grasps and claws at every part of your body. In that moment, there's no denying the intensity of his desire, the need to make you his own consuming him entirely.

→ Michael is not gentle with you; he doesn't hold back his deep urges to possess you completely. He revels in your whimpers and the screams of his name as he stretches you open and takes what he deems rightfully his. His touch is rough, unyielding, as if trying to merge your bodies into one. Each movement is driven by a fierce need to mark you, to ensure you understand that you belong to him and no one else. Every night with Michael is filled with a mix of pain and pleasure. His eyes intense and unwavering, remain locked on you, drinking in every reaction, every cry. To him, this is the final step in owning you, the ultimate act of protecting what is his.

→  Removing the mask takes time. It's one evening, after the intensity of your shared orgasms have ebbed, and Michael lies heavy on top of you. Your fingers tentatively trace the edges of the white rubber mask, sensing his body tense beneath your touch. His hand instinctively reaches out, grasping your wrist to halt your movement, but your lips find solace in the warmth of his knuckles as you plant a gentle kiss, your breath whispering a desire to see him. For a fleeting moment, there's resistance, a hesitancy borne from years of concealing his true self, before he lets you unmask him. His long hair cascades over your face as the mask falls away, revealing the man beneath. In that vulnerable moment, you stroke his sweat-glistened cheek, your fingers tracing the contours of his features as you call him "handsome", perhaps the first time he's heard the word since his mother.

→ Despite Michael's disapproval of your continued work at the lounge, you are unwilling to relinquish your independence completely. He grumbles and fumes when things don't go his way, but deep down, he appreciates your defiance, feels a strange allure in your willingness to challenge him. Although his overly protective nature remains, he secretly enjoys the way you push back against his control, finding a strange sense of satisfaction in the game of give and take between you. A hand on his chest or a kiss along his strong jawline is all it takes for him to soften, his resolve melting under the warmth of your affection. You eventually compromise, only working certain shifts and allowing him to escort you home. As if you really have a choice on the matter. Michael finds your attempts at negotiation endearing.

→ If anyone dares to come between Michael and what is his, he reacts with violent outbursts of rage. His attacks are brutal and merciless, driven by a primal need to assert his dominance and protect you. Unfortunately, you are also not exempt from his aggression, and when he catches sight of you one night, engaged in conversation with a stranger outside the back of the lounge during your smoke break, he snaps. In a frenzy of fury, he swiftly disposes of the man, his actions marked by a sickening crunch of bones as his body is hurled against the brick wall. Then, turning his attention to you, Michael's muscles coil with tension and his chest heaves with barely-contained anger. Gripping your arms so fiercely that bruises bloom in their wake, he shoves you against the wall, once, then again, as if attempting to jolt some some sense into you.

→ With swift determination, Michael hoists you over his shoulder and retreats into the shadows, his purposeful strides carrying you home. But the journey doesn't lead to the bedroom; instead, he deposits you onto the stairs with a roughness that steals your breath. There, in the dim light, he strips away the remnants of your clothing, his actions forceful and unyielding. Again and again, he fucks into you with a ferocity that leaves you screaming his name, your pleas mingling with the echoes of both passion and pain. In those moments, as his protectiveness gives way to possession and consumes you, you find yourself uttering the words he craves to hear—that you are his, and his alone.

→ Yet, even amidst the ecstasy, a shadow of uncertainty looms. You can never be certain that Michael wouldn't cross that final line, that his compulsion wouldn't drive him to take everything from you, including your life. For Michael, protection is not just about control—it's about ownership to the point of obsession. If he can't have you, no one else can either.

[halfmoonaria]

superstar

pairing: jenna ortega & reader

summary: you're a singer, and jenna thinks you're a superstar

word count: 1.6k

Jenna had always been adamant in interviews and podcasts that she wasn't looking for a partner.

The notion of opening herself up to someone, of sharing her most intimate and vulnerable sides, was terrifying to her.

She'd often say that the industry was already a whirlwind, and adding a relationship into the mix seemed like a recipe for disaster.

Her words resonated with a certain conviction, leaving fans and followers convinced that Jenna was dedicated solely to her career and personal growth.

Hence, when news broke that Jenna had met someone, the world was taken aback.

And her family, who had long accepted her stance on relationships, were particularly stunned.

What made it even more astonishing was that her partner was not just anyone but a singer. The very idea seemed to clash with everything Jenna had previously expressed.

If anyone had expected Jenna to find love, it would have been with someone far removed from the spotlight, someone who could offer a grounding presence amidst the chaos of fame.

Yet, there she was, completely enchanted by you, whose life was as much in the public eye as hers.

Your talent and passion had pierced through Jenna's carefully constructed walls, revealing a side of her that no one had ever seen.

It was an unexpected connection, but it was real, and it transformed Jenna in ways she had never imagined possible.

You were her age, having started singing at a tender age, your voice a gift that quickly became your solace.

From the early days of strumming a guitar in your bedroom to performing on small stages, your journey was one of both talent and resilience.

Your songs were deeply personal, often touching on themes of mental health, a reflection of your own struggles since your teenage years. The raw honesty in your lyrics resonated with many, turning your pain into a source of comfort for others.

Jenna admired you not just for your musical prowess but for your courage.

In a world where vulnerability was often masked, you stood as a beacon of authenticity. You spoke openly about your battles with anxiety and depression, both in your music and in interviews.

Your willingness to share your story in hopes of helping others, struck a chord with Jenna.

She saw in you a kindred spirit, someone who navigated the complexities of fame with a heart wide open, unafraid to show the scars that came with it.

The openness, the fearless confrontation of your inner demons, was what drew Jenna to you.

It was no surprise that the two of you had found each other, you were both well looking and had surprisingly more similarities than anybody would thought.

Your fame had skyrocketed over the years, just like hers had.

Sold-out arenas, chart-topping albums, and countless awards had become part of your daily reality.

You were recognized wherever you went, your face gracing the covers of magazines and your name trending on social media.

Just like Jenna; two of the biggest stars in the entertainment industry to end up together was something nobody had expected.

Despite your immense popularity, you remained grounded, always remembering the humble beginnings that shaped you.

The magnitude of your success was undeniable.

Fans across the globe found solace in your music, drawn to the sincerity of your lyrics and the powerful way you connected with your audience.

Your concerts were not just performances but communal experiences where people came together, united by the themes of your songs.

Interviews and talk shows frequently featured you, not only to discuss your latest projects but to delve into the deeper conversations about mental health that you championed.

Jenna couldn't help but be captivated by how you balanced the pressures of fame with an unwavering commitment.

It was this genuine openness, this ability to remain true to yourself amidst the chaos of fame, that drew Jenna to you like a magnet.

Despite your hectic schedules and the constant media attention, your relationship flourished in the quiet moments away from the spotlight.

There were times you often found yourself on set with her, quietly supporting her through long days of filming.

Whether it was bringing her coffee during early morning shoots or simply being there to listen during breaks, you made sure she knew you were always by her.

Likewise, Jenna joined you on tour, even if just few times. Those moments were rare but cherished, her presence bringing a sense of calm amidst the chaos of your busy life on the road.

She would watch from the wings as you performed, a proud smile on her face, supporting you in the way only she could.

At home, the connection between you two deepened in ways Jenna never had anticipated.

There were nights when she'd sit on the edge of the bed or curl up on the couch, watching you play your guitar and sing just for her.

The closeness of those moments, your voice soft and full of emotion, always sent a thrill through her.

More than once, she'd found herself unable to resist you, her desire building until she was straddling your lap, the vibrations of your music moving through her.

Which had ended up in her getting off on your thigh multiple times as you played, your voice serenading her into bliss.

Jenna loved you in a way she'd never loved anyone before. You were everything she didn't know she needed, the only person who truly understood her.

She often marveled at the thought that you were all hers, unable to fully grasp how someone as incredible as you had chosen her.

Whether you were strumming a guitar at home or belting out lyrics on stage, you captivated her completely.

You were the only one she wanted, the only one who made her feel this intensely.

When you performed was when all of those thoughts overflowed.

On stage, you were magnetic, your voice powerful and sultry, sending shivers down her spine. And when you danced, it was as if the music lived in your body, every movement fluid and mesmerizing.

Jenna couldn't take her eyes off you.

She adored the outfits you wore—revealing pieces that clung to your body, accentuating every curve.

She understood why you chose them; the heat from the lights and the crowd demanded something breathable, but there was no denying the allure they added to your presence.

She found your voice captivating, sexy almost, whether it was the soft croon she heard at home or the commanding, electrifying sound that filled arenas.

Each note you sang and every step you took drew her in deeper, reminding her that despite all the eyes on you, you were hers alone.

Jenna admired you fiercely. Every time she watched you perform, she fell a little more in love, unable to understand how she was lucky enough to have you.

The way you owned the stage, the way your voice and dancing wrapped around her heart, left her breathless.

She loved watching you perform. For reasons that went beyond the obvious.

It wasn't just for the music or the energy of the crowd. There was something deeper, more personal, in the way she observed you on stage.

How deeply you connected with your audience, but even more so by how much of yourself you gave in each performance.

She knew every movement, every note came from a place that only understood. And that knowledge made it all more thrilling.

But what really drove her wild was what came after.

The sex afterwards was incredible.

You'd come of stage, still pulsing with the energy of the performance, and she could feel the heat radiating off you.

The way you'd pull her close, your hands exploring as if you couldn't wait another second. Your touch demanding and urgent, made her knees weak.

Those nights, when you were still on fire from the adrenaline, were her favorite.

If something hadn't gone the way you wanted; a missed note, a technical glitch, or someone who'd pissed you off backstage — Jenna knew she was in for it.

You'd take that frustration and channel it directly into her, the way you'd push her against the wall, not wasting a second, your intensity making her shiver with anticipation.

She craved those moments, the way your hands would be rougher, your kisses hungrier. The way you'd take control, leaving her breathless and utterly consumed by you.

Jenna loved every second of it, the raw unapologetic need that you unleashed after a show.

It was the side of you that only she got to experience, and it was addictive.

After every show, after the adrenaline had faded and the passion between you two had cooled to a gentle warmth, it was the quiet moments that Jenna cherished the most.

Lying in bed together, your bodies tangled in the sheets, she would trace the lines of your face, marveling at how someone so fierce on stage could be so tender with her.

It was in those moments that she realized just how much she loved you—not just for the superstar the world saw, but for the person you were when it was just the two of you.

No matter how hectic your lives became, no matter the miles between sets and stages, the connection you shared remained unshakeable.

You both had your own worlds, your own battles to fight, but in each other, you found a refuge, a place where you could be completely yourselves.

And as she drifted off to sleep beside you, Jenna knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, nothing could change the way she felt.

You were a star, but more importantly, you were her star, and she wouldn't trade that for anything in the world.

[kingkatsuki]

— spoiled

After Sae has endured a long day of press interviews, he’s pent up, tired and just wants to go home. But you dressed up all pretty for him today, and you’re desperate for his attention.

Only @saexy could get me to write for Itoshi Sae. Header art is by them and they graciously allowed me to use it in this depravity, please check it out and give them a follow💕

Pairing: Itoshi Sae x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, established relationship, semi-public sex, piss (Sae pisses inside you), creampie, dirty talk, slight degradation (slut).

Word Count: 2.2k.

Sae would call you spoiled, no matter how much you tried to disagree with him. Rolling your eyes at him whenever he’d comment on it, as though you’d just asked him to buy you a new pair of shoes or the cute plushie you’d seen at the store last weekend (there was no point asking when he’d already bought it for you anyway, he thinks) — but Sae thinks you’re spoiled in far more than just wealth. 

You’re spoiled enough that you get to see every single part of him. Even the sides he tries so hard to conceal and keep from everyone, especially his family. Breaking down the walls to the fortress he built around his heart that he swore was impenetrable until he met you. 

And perhaps that’s why he indulges you so much. Allowing you to climb onto his lap after a long, arduous day of press interviews and meetings as you settle on either side of his muscular thighs. Pressing cherry-stained kisses against the corner of his lips as he tries to ignore the incessant throb in his pelvis in favour of you. 

“You can’t wait until we get home?” He raises a brow, placing his phone face down on the arm of the sofa as he gives you his attention. 

He’d just text his driver to bring the car around, hoping to get home as quickly as possible to take this suit off, relieve the aching throb in his bladder from back-to-back interviews and climb into the shower. And perhaps if he’s lucky round off his evening with your pretty lips around his cock—

“You’ve ignored me all day today.” You accuse, as though it’s his fault he’s neglected you for work, “There was barely even any reason for me to come.”

“Don’t start.” He growls, his Adam’s apple bobs as he feels your lips curl into a sultry grin against his cheek. His rough palms grip your hips as you deliberately grind yourself down on his soft cock as a raspy groan rumbles a the back of his throat, “I told you that you could stay at home, didn’t I?” 

“It’s like sometimes you don’t even want me.” You pout, and Sae has to resist the urge to roll his eyes because it couldn’t be further from the truth. Another one of your elaborate fibs that you like to throw at him whenever you want some attention because you’re the only one he will ever want. 

“Don't give me that shit,” He scoffs, giving your ass a playful spank that causes you to grind yourself down against him, “How could I ever want anyone else?”

Sae feels his cock buck to life beneath you. The warmth radiating through your panties engulfs him as his head lolls back against the couch, the constant throb from his bladder now replaced with desire as he feels his pelvis pulse when your lips meet his in a sultry kiss. 

It’s mind-numbing the way your mouth seems to slot against his so perfectly, tilting your head to the side as you move together languidly. Your tongue strokes against the seam of his lips as they part for entrance and you delve deeper, brushing against his canines before he marches your movements. Stroking his tongue against every single crevice as though he’s trying to consume you whole, pouring every ounce of emotion into the kiss as he purposefully presses you down on his prominent bulge.

There isn’t time for this, not when the car is on its way. Wondering whether he’d be able to satiate you enough with his fingers before you both had to go downstairs. Or at the very least alleviate the tension enough to satiate you until you were settled in the back of the car, the blacked out windows offering enough privacy to offer you a moments reprieve.

It’s as though you choose for him, pressing yourself against his clothed cock with more urgency as you hold yourself against him. Peppering sticky kisses against the column of his throat as your teeth drag against his milky skin, grazing his pulse point as he feels the restraint he holds inside him slowly begin to crumble. 

“You’re terrible, baby.” He groans, his warm palms splayed against your bare thighs as they slip beneath the hem of your dress. Pushing the fabric up to bunch around your waist as his thumbs dip into the apex of your thighs, dangerously close to your soft folds as he teases the hem of your panties. 

“I’m terrible? When you’re the one that’s neglected me all day,” You pout, before breaking off into a moan as Sae’s thumbs stroke against your outer labia. 

You gasp at the sensation, your lips parted in bliss as Sae takes the opportunity to stroke his tongue against your lips, tasting the saccharine hint of cherry from your gloss as he watches through half-lidded eyes as you continue to grind yourself against him. 

But it isn’t enough. Unsatisfied as he pulls your panties to the side, groaning deep in his chest when he drags two knuckles through your slit to feel how drenched you are already. Your slick webs against his fingers as he pushes sharp precise circles against your clit, enough to have you writhing above him as your hands reach down to fiddle with the expensive silver buckle of his belt. 

It doesn’t take much to have his heavy cock sheathed inside your drenched hole, heaving a contented sigh as he bottoms out inside you. The warmth surrounding him is just enough to have Sae feeling comfortable as the tension in his bladder begins to ease and is replaced by fierce electricity that shoots through his veins as you begin to bounce yourself on his length. Slender fingers smooth along your sides, palming your bouncing breasts through the pretty sundress you’re wearing before pulling the straps down to settle around your elbows. Exposing your tits to his gaze as he hums in satisfaction, pressing lingering kisses against the naked skin as his tongue slips out to flick against your taut nipples. 

You move as though you’re using him for your pleasure, and you are — not that Sae minds. The corner of his lip curls into the slightest hint of a smile as he watches you try to get yourself off, rolling your hips so his cock drags against that velvety spot inside you that’ll have you seeing stars as your lips part in a near constant whine. 

“You’re always so fucking noisy,” Sae tuts, and yet does not attempt to silence you as he spreads his thighs further apart, “Do you want someone to hear?”

“Am not.” You scrunch your nose in irritation, biting down on your kiss-bruised bottom lip in a feeble attempt to silence yourself, but it was barely worth the effort.

“Listen to yourself.” He sneers, rough fingers dip into the plush of your ass as he holds you tight. Spreading your cheeks as he palms them beneath his hands before he starts a rough pace, selfishly using you for his own pleasure as he moves you how he pleases, “Couldn’t even wait five minutes before you were jumping on my cock.” 

“Sae, please.” You whined breathlessly, your head falling forward as he fucks himself into you. 

“That desperate for me to treat you like a slut, is that it?” He grunts, “My pretty slut.”

His cockhead bumps your cervix with each forward thrust, his veiny cock catching against the ridges of your inner walls as you find yourself soaring towards your orgasm. The telltale throb begins to ebb in your pelvis as your clit cries out for attention, sliding your hand down between your connected bodies as you begin to press sloppy circles against the sensitive nub as Sae’s eyes follow your movements to watch—

“That’s it, baby.” He grunts, “You get yours.”

It’s all too much as you feel yourself nearing your release, pearly tears begin to bead in your lashes blurring your vision as you desperately try to blink them away. Your moans came out as debased pants as he kept his rough pace as the coil inside you snapped abruptly, forcing you into your climax as you cried out his name in pleasure.

“Oh, fuck,” He groans as he feels your tight cunt clench around him as you greedily vie to milk him of his release, burying your face in the apex of his neck as you breathe in the scent of his aftershave. Teeth grazing his clavicle as he gives a few more sloppy thrusts before he feels his own orgasm surge through him like a tsunami, crashing into him in harsh waves as his thighs begin to shudder. 

“Fuck, shit.” He snarls under his breath as you feel white ropes of heady cum begin to coat your inner walls, his grip on your hips almost bruising as he forces you to take all he’s got to give as he empties his balls inside you, “Take it—”

Your chest is heaving, and you think he’s finished filling you with all his potent spunk until you feel it— an unfamiliar warmth begins to spread inside you as your palms immediately shift to press against his chest, trying to pull yourself off his still painfully hard cock to no avail. The fierce grip he maintains on your hips keeps you flush against his pelvis as he fills you to the brim with a warm stream of piss that creates a flood inside you, his pubes tickle your clit as you let out an airy whine at the feeling. His cock works as a dam to keep you full as his hips continue to rock into you sloppily, the back of his skull pressed against the couch as he exhales through clenched teeth. 

“Wait, Sae—” You try to call out to stop him, to escape the sensation but it’s futile. 

He’s completely lost to the euphoria as his face contorts in bliss, revealing the whites of his eyes as the persistent ache in his bladder dissipates and is replaced by smouldering pleasure. Embarrassment begins to swirl inside your tummy at the debauched sight of him, your stretched walls continue to throb around his cock as some of his piss escapes around the base of his cock and soaks his pelvis and slacks. The lewd squelch is shameful as he gives a few more messy ruts, filling the room with the crude noise as you feel the heat burn against your cheeks and the wetness presses against your inner thighs. 

It’s disgusting, depraved, you should be mortified— and yet your clit throbs with desire at the immoral sight. Your hips shift as you reach down to tug the hem of your dress up to take in the sight of him, his piss soaked into his grey Calvin’s as the fabric sticks to his skin. Positive it’s slathered all the way down to the leather couch beneath you as your cunt continues to pulse around him with want, already feeling the familiar heat beginning to build again in your pelvis as you roll your hips into him for some slight relief. 

“Don’t you dare.” He grunts, tightening his grip on your hips to stop you from moving after he was the one to force a mixture of piss and cum into your innocent hole. 

“Sae, I can’t believe you pissed in me.” You whined, feeling the moisture begin to soak into your panties as more of it leaked out of you. Cooling against the fabric as you shift your hips above him, both your eyes on where your bodies are connected as you watch more begin to escape your ruined hole. 

“It’s your fault.” He grumbles, as though you were the one to press down on his bladder. 

“You didn’t tell me you needed to pee!” You pout childishly, jutting out your bottom lip.

“I didn’t get a chance before you jumped me,” He rolled his eyes, his tongue jutting out to wet his lips as his chest continued to heave in his post-orgasmic haze.

“You make it sound like you didn’t want it.” You murmur, squealing when his softening cock begins to slip out of your stretched hole and you feel the final dregs of his piss dribble out of you. 

Sae ignores you, instead his eyes are focused on the mess between your thighs as he drags two fingers through it. Feeling the warmth of his piss and cum mixed with your slick as he watches your body respond intently, throwing your head back with a sharp gasp. 

“You make it sound like you didn’t want this.” He counters, mimicking your tone as he spreads your folds between his index and middle finger to tap your clit. 

“I have to walk home like this,” You gasp at the contact, “That’s so embarrassing.” 

No, he thinks, what was embarrassing is just how easily you had him submitting to you. 

“You act as though I'm going to parade you through the streets like this," He deadpans with half-lidded eyes, feeling the damp back of your dress where it sits against his thighs, "You're only going to go downstairs and get into my car.”

“That still means someone could see,” You whine, your nose scrunched adorably as he had to resist the urge to kiss you.

“Yeah yeah, and who's problem is that?”

His, he thinks as he groans internally. Praying to whatever God was up there looking down on him that there wouldn’t be any paparazzi outside that would catch him in piss-soaked slacks on the walk to his chauffeur. 

And if there was Sae was certain it would be all over social media by morning, and Shidou would never let him hear the end of it.

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Can I please request thiccc Aegon being obsessed with eating his wife’s pussy

Appetite

PAIRING: Chubby!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Wife!Reader

WORDS: 1,102.

WARNINGS: female oral receiving, swearing, chubby!aegon ii, stomach riding, teasing.

A/N - apologies for the long wait. although this request was too delicious. hope you enjoy x

It was no discrete feat that your beloved husband, Aegon the Second, was known for his grand appetite.

As a young prince, suffering the constant scrutiny of the burden of high expectations, as the eldest sibling and the potential heir, Aegon sought comfort in the company of women, and most often food... With maturity, transforming from a scrawny figure, as his body grew so did his stomach. Much more portly and round, more visible softer edges and a pooling stomach that grew further out of his waistline, Aegon, handsome nonetheless, was a formidable figure.

And as his wife, it was your duty to uphold favors for your husband...

"Today could not have been more unbearable. This family of mine continues to prove to be a complete pain and bore—” Aegon cooly whimpers, his rotund body waddling its way towards you ever so slowly from the doorway, his familiar, heavy footsteps echoing between the stony walls of your shared chambers.

"Is that so? Does your Grandsire still talk your ear off in pursuit with talks of you being King? Has Cole worn you out with your royal training? Mayhaps you’ve grown lazy, as you spend more time shoving that pretty mouth of yours full.”

Aegon’s thick arms snake around your waist, pulling you inch by inch closer towards his larger frame, the warmth radiating from him. Your breasts press against his plump chest, pushing your cleavage upward, only a teasing distance away from Aegon’s face.

“Must you always tease me? You and I both know just how much you rather enjoy this pretty mouth of mine… Although, your absence was greatly felt today. I could not stop thinking about you and…”

"Hmm, and what, Aegon?" You seducingly whisper, your lips ever so lightly grazing against Aegon's plump mouth, as your grip tightens around his clothed, excess adipose.

"That pretty, tight cunt of yours."

With only a mutual exchange of beaming smiles and darting eyes, you found yourself comfortably sat atop your husband's curvaceous hips: feeling the growing stiffness bulging beneath his trousers, the more you shifted and pressed your aching cunt against it, the more it stirred. Earning a groan or two, Aegon sat shirtless, his soft, wife belly exposed, tits growing exponentially, you could practically hold them by the handful.

"Up, baby- I need you now. But turn around. We're doing this a little differently."

It took you a minute or two, steadying yourself with your back facing towards Aegon, as you carefully aligned and planted your exposed bare cunt onto his ravenous mouth. His lips felt moist against yours, although adamant on sucking, his latch was strong feeling his thick, warm tongue slither between your throbbing, velvet folds.

His deep moans, although muffled, were penetrable enough to hear, his grip tightening, a hand clasped at each of your thighs: you felt secure atop of him, as your husband kept you confined in place. Uncertain of your stance however, for this was a first, naturally your hands fell onto his meaty rolls, manoeuvring between the plump folds of his sides, and his ample tits.

"Gotten s-so, s-so big I can practically h-hold onto these t-teats to keep me s-steady, y-your Grace-"

"K-Keep it up, a-and you'll have the most g-gracious tits th-than all the m-maidens, I-I fear."

Your jaunts and jabs seemed only to heighten Aegon's lustful drive, his head pushing in further against your backside as his hands gestured your lap to fall deeper against him: his eager tongue delved deeper between your walls, gently biting at the tender skin of your entrance. Naturally, your nails clawed and dug deeper against the paleness of his paunchy blubber, leaving remnants of red marks to grow visible instead.

Your mind no longer coherent, felt senseless and weak in such a vulnerable position, whimpering for your husband, begging aloud his name, as your cunt began to ooze eagerly with your wetness. Hearing the messy, sloppy sounds as Aegon hungrily devoured and slurped at every inch of your cunt, savouring your delectable flavour, his grand appetite did not cease either in the bedroom...

"S-So fucking good- No craving in the world could appease me, only that of my wife's glorious fucking cunt."

Your elbows grew weary, your inner thighs trembling as the strength you mustered to keep balanced lessened: Aegon kept you secured against him, his hold unmatched you endured the feast he devoured of you.

"Now, my baby's turn. I bet this aching cunt is dying to feel this against her clit- Don't think I didn't feel you groping me that entire time. You love me being fat."

As you delicately shifted yourself to face Aegon, his stocky arms guiding you with assistance, you now sat atop his lap, gazing upon his handsome face, and the glistening, milky film that intoxicated his pouty lips.

"Taste it, my love. Taste yourself. Taste how divine you are, I can never get enough of it."

With impeccable obedience, your lips instinctively plummeted against Aegon's, his tongue remaining ever so keen, pushing through into your mouth, entwining with your own: a sneaky grin echoed across his lips pressed against yours, as you devoured yourself.

Preoccupied, Aegon's meaty forearms, had snaked their way once more around your tender thighs, lifting you gently upwards, nestling you atop his round, rotund belly. Your slick cunt leaves the residue mixture of your ooze with Aegon's own saliva, a glistening trail against the fleshy, fair skin of his prominent gut. Your pace slow, only began to quick as your steady breathing began to hasten with excitement. Your nails once more, digging into the soft flesh of his broad shoulders, claw marks like of some untamed animal, grew vibrant red in contrast with the paleness of his Valyrian skin.

"Mhmm- my beloved, you were so quick to taunt at how fat and round I have become and yet you crumble at the mere sight of me. Look at you, bouncing on this gut, as if you bounce on my cock. Need I grow fatter for you to accept that you relish in lying and mating with a fat man."

"A-Aeg- N-Not just any fat man... J-Just you, my G-Grace. I l-love you for th-this and s-so much more."

The natural friction brewing from beneath, a potent heat feverish against your inner thighs and entrance, against the portly double belly of your husband: feeling his fat meekly squirm between your folds was enough to ripen an excitement only your husband's cock could genuinely deliver. Falling into his cosy embrace, you shared the rest of the evening welcoming dusk in the intimate seize of your husband.

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @snowprincesa1

Aegon ii taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @jawline-of-steel @daughter-of-the-stars11 @bucknastysbabe

credit for divider - @/softstargirl