#curls galore

[joowee-feftynn]

curly boy

[flowerescentt]

Alexa demie x galore magazine 2019

[queensofheaven]

i am sooo obsessed with a specific early 1990s vibe like i went on a deep dive to find out exactly what lipstick dana scully wears … like i need to submerge myself into the twin peaks/x-files aesthetic expeditiously. find me at the value village two piece blazer set aisle

[everythingbutresolved]

The New Adventures of Old Christine was funny and nonsense and weird and sometimes genial but, must important, it gave us Matthew Kimble

[crymeariveronceagain]

my brain: we are feeling the bads, time to cope! grab your favorite form of internet and seek validation!!!

me: dude idk if this is healthy like maybe we should see a therapist

my brain: yeah but that simple tiny little thing currently requires overcoming a really bad trigger without help

me:

me: so Tumblr it is, huh?

my brain: text your best friend first and seek validation for very dumb reasons

[startsbeatboxing]

god i need to find someone with curly hair to cut mine so it looks androgynous but not shitty. i need tips please

[r4spb3rr13s]

pro heroes meeting their feisty, mcbling gf

♱ bakugou, kirishima, midoriya, dabi

♱ pt.2 here!

note: it’s me, i’m the feisty mcbling gf 😞

Katsuki has been on shift for what feels like hours. In reality… well it has been hours. He’s been patrolling a smaller, more mundane part of Tokyo, where all he’s done is help little old ladies with their groceries and scold kids for trying to steal candy.

He was dying to get home.

So, when he heard a scream five minutes from patrol ending, the groan he let out was loud, unprofessional and frankly, really douche-y of him. But still, he flew towards the alley it echoed from.

He turned the corner, expecting a damsel in distress…

Only to see you.

Beating a man with a Juicy Couture suede bag, wobbling on platform sandals.

While this man lets out the girliest, highest-pitched screams Katsuki has ever heard in his life.

“That’s.” Hit. “What.” Hit. “You.” Hit. “Get!” Big hit!

Katsuki blinks out of his trance and takes a booming step toward you. “What the fuck’s goin on?”

You gasp and look up, and Katsuki swears his heart is echoing out of his chest.

Your s/c skin is everywhere, from your jean shorts to the cleavage practically spilling out your leopard print zip-up, and as you straighten up, he catches a glimpse of a belly ring that makes him gulp.

Your hair frames your face with a pair of sunglasses at the top of your head, showing off a fantastic scowl. Glittery eyes are met with furrowed brows, decorated with piercings-galore on your face, and two big hoops either side of your head.

“This prick!” You punctuate it with a nudge of your painted-pink toe, “Tried to rob me! I kneed him in his tiny balls.”

Katsuki raises a brow. You take a minute to glare at the guy, still whimpering, before you strut towards him with narrowed eyes.

You hate to admit it, but Dynamight was hotter in real life. Soot is smeared on his cheek and the scowl on his face sends his ruby-red lasers shooting through you.

“What? You have a staring problem?” You ask with a hand on your hip. Every ounce of confidence you’re letting off is soooo clearly fake right now, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

He shakes his head and looks around you to the poor guy on the floor. He’s not going anywhere, still curled up in a feral position and cradling his nads.

Katsuki sweats.

“Alright, sweetheart-”

You try to pretend it doesn’t make your heart skip a beat.

“Sweetheart?” He freezes and looks down at your cocked brow. “At least take me out for a drink first, Mr. Dynamight, c’mon.”

He clears his throat awkwardly, “Shit- sorry, I didn’t- look, you’re okay, right? No injuries?”

You’re inspecting your nails at this point, trying to avoid looking at the muscles in his hero costume. “Huh? Nah, but he should probably get checked out. Am I good to go?”

You sound eager to leave, but you make no move to when he nods.

Instead, you stand, scrutinising him with crossed arms. Katsuki hates to admit it, but even standing a whole foot taller than you, you’re making the blond blush.

“Okay, what? You need somethin’?” He gruffly says.

You glance back at the idiot still on the floor, and he flinches at your gaze.

“You don’t need my number for a report or somethin’?”

The words leave your mouth sooner than you can stop them, but you keep your face cool as your turn around. God, you need a smoke after this.

Katsuki’s hearts skips a beat, but his lip quirks up and he huffs out a chuckle. He reaches into one his pockets, and passes you his phone.

He’s still blushing, but God that man is grinning as well.

:::

Eijiro is mid-lat pulldown when he hears you through the full blast of his headphones. Being the manly pro he is, he takes an earbud out to hear the commotion.

“When I say fuck off, I mean fuck off! What part of that isn’t get through your thick skull?”

Eijiro watched as you scream in a steroid-fueled gym-bro’s face. You’re jabbing a pink nail in his chest, neon pink shorts matching to a sports bra and a small hoodie on your top half.

He gets off the machine, and a loud clang echoes through the gym - you don’t even notice.

“What, too much muscle blocking your brain from working?”

The guy is getting ready to respond, an ugly, violent grimace on his face. As Eijiro steps behind you and crosses his arms, the guy thinks twice.

He nods at you, and turns away, practically running.

You huff and tuck a loose piece of hair behind your hair.

“What was that?”

You jump at the voice and spin around with a shout. A chest- Jesus Christ, he’s tall. You’re face-to-chest with a man covered in muscle, a sharp-toothed smile and spiky, red hair to match it.

“Oh!”

…

…

He raises a brow and smiles at you.

A blush is fighting it’s way onto your face, but you’re too cool for that. Way too cool. So you clear your throat and stop staring at his adorable face for a minute.

“He wasn’t taking no for an answer,” You huff and cross your arms.

Eijiro frowns, “Shit, that sucks. Do you come here often?”

…

It’s your turn to raise a brow.

His face turns as red as his hair when he realises how stupid that sounded. It’s weirdly endearing watching such a large man blush and panic in front of you.

“N-no, like, I can get him banned if you’re a regular. I know the owners, so-”

“Where do I know you from?” You cut him off, doing mental gymnastics.

Eijiro freezes as he watches you. Your thick lashes touch your brows as you go wide-eyed, staring at him intently. So intently, he’s terrified to move a muscle.

You click your fingers and point a sparkly nail at his chest, “Red Riot! I knew I recognised you from somewhere.”

He grins and shrugs. “Yeah, that’s me.”

“I mean,” You trail off for a minute, using all your self-restraint to not blush or stutter in front of this fine-ass man, “if you ever wanted to come to rescue again, I could just give you my number?”

Eijiro has never grabbed his phone faster in his life.

:::

Izuku has been caught in the midst of little fans. Children are detaching themselves from parents, flying away from friend groups to crowd around for his autograph. He’s reminded again why he always wears a cap and glasses when he goes to the mall.

He just needed to pick up a pair of boxers, for Gods sake.

A little boy comes hurtling at him, but such is the norm. What he doesn’t see is the girl sprinting after him- sprinting in platform heels that is.

Jeans cling to you tighter than your zebra print top, and the tiny handbag on your shoulder keeps slipping down. Every step you take is a loud jingle with the massive array of jewellery you have on, and star-shaped clips in your hair keep slipping out.

“Deku! You’re the coole-”

“Isamu! Get back here!” You screech. Your sister was going to kill you if she knew the one time you took your nephew out for a little trip to the mall, you lost him.

Watching him talk to a stranger was almost the cherry on top.

You come to a skidding stop, somehow not hurtling over on your open-toed death machines, and grab the 5 year old by the armpits. Isamu let’s out an excited shriek and smiles at you.

Then he points to the guy.

That guy being the number one hero in Japan.

You nearly drop your nephew.

“Oh my God-”

“I’m so sorry-”

You both speak at the same time, then shut up, and just stare at each other like two idiots. He’s not in his costume - duh, idiot, he’s at the mall?- but he looks just as good as he does with his face plastered all over Tokyo.

Strong arms are straining the seams of his black shirt, and his dark hair is brushing the nape of his neck- it looks so soft-

“I’m really sorry, I should have come out with my hat on, sunglasses-”

“Please do not apologise for looking that good,” You mutter and roll your eyes. Then you freeze. Then you both look at each other, while you nibble your lip and smear your lipgloss everywhere.

“Deku! Can I have your auto map!” Isamu screeches from your arms, wiggling like a worm. It’s getting hard to hold him, so you plop him down and hold his hand instead.

“Autograph, buddy, not auto map,” You whisper in his ear.

Izuku’s heart skips a beat. You are gorgeous, silly and amazing with kids- I mean, what else could he really ask for?

He nods and crouched to Isamu’s height.

“Who am I making it out to, then?”

Isamu screams his government name so loud you want to cover your ears, but you just smile awkwardly at Izuku crouching under you.

He looks at you with his big, doe eyes and a soft smile. “What about you?”

“Oh, no, I don’t want an autograph-”

“Your name?”

Oh shit. You mutter it and watch with a smile as the pro scrawls on a notebook he miraculously pulled out from his arse. His round, perky-

“There you go, Isamu. It was great meeting you,” He pats your nephew’s head, who is practically beaming. “It was nice meeting you too, Y/n,” he adds, and turns away with a wave.

As you walk away, Isamu thrusts the paper in your hand.

“LOOK AT IT AUNTIE Y/N!!”

‘if it’s not too forward, id like you text me sometime y/n :)’ and next to the note is his number.

Cheeky bitch.

:::

Dabi has no fucking idea how he ended up in a bar blasting Kesha from the speakers with millennial women screaming ‘this was my party song!’ but he hates it.

Until he sees you.

You’re in the tiniest jean skirt he’s ever seen, and your ass cheeks are so close to popping out. If you’d just stopped swaying your hips and bend over, he’d get a glimpse-

But you turn around, and he watches you twist and turn in a matching halter top, jewellery adding rhythms to the music.

Dabi swears he has never seen anything as captivating as your baby pink lips mouth along to Die Young. God, was he really thinking that? In relation to Kesha? You must be special, he thinks to himself.

He makes no move, though. He sits at the bar, watching you tip back fruity cocktails and teeter on your fur-covered boots.

He looks away for a second, he swears, and suddenly you’re on the bar stool next to him. Not just sat, but staring. Like, blatantly staring right at him.

He mirrors you, leaning on his palm and watching you.

You’d be lying if you tried to say his cerulean eyes weren’t doing something to you, but there were more pressing issues at hand.

“You’ve been staring at me all night.”

It’s a fact, he has been.

A smile curls onto his lips, and he shifts so he’s closer to you. “Have I? Didn’t notice…”

You’re drunk. Like, much too drunk, because his face is a blur- a handsome blur though. You are aware enough to tell he’s staring at your tits, though.

You click your fingers in his face and he looks back up at you. There’s a moment on his face where he looks shocked, but a bigger smirk replaces it.

“Sorry, hun-”

“Hun? What am I, 5?”

He leans forward, and the overwhelming stench of a beach fire is fighting with your Britney Spears perfume. The air starts to smell like burnt sugar around you, and it’s weirdly compelling.

“What do you want me to call you then?”

“Well, you’ll need my number to call me.”

It takes you a minute to realise how dumb that was- you’re drunk and that is not what he meant, but it made him drop the cool boy act. He stared at you for a second with wide eyes before chuckling under his breath.

“You are somethin’, princess…”

“Princess?”

“Yeah, the skirt and all the pink- very princessy,” He gestured to your outfit before pulling out… a burner phone.

You really should not have drank that much, because you don’t even care to question it as you’re typing you digits in.

note: ffs i didn’t make izuku’s gf feisty enough 😞

[wineauntie]

MEDICINE – Quinn Hughes x fem!reader (smut)

previous part. series masterlist.

summary: Quinn Hughes is going to dream about this night for a longggg time.

note: the longest smut I’ve ever written ever, we quite literally dive right in.

warnings: 18+ content, MDNI, sexual content, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, dom!Quinn Hughes, nicknames like pretty girl, use of y/n, fem!reader, praise galore.

word count: 3.1K

"So this is where you live?!"

You had barely stepped into Quinn's apartment when you found yourself admiring your vast surroundings. The apartment was neat, and one might think it had been plucked straight out of a catalogue were there not various personal touches around the place, such as a variety of trophies and family photos. Your eyes glimmered once they'd finally landed back on Quinn, who seemed to watch you with amusement as he approached you.

"This is where I live." Quinn hummed in confirmation, coming up behind you as you pulled your lower lip between your teeth. You turned fully towards him, reaching up and intertwining your arms around his neck.

"Do I get a tour?" You drawled, tilting your head upwards as he slowly raised one eyebrow.

"Jump," that was all he said before you were hoisted up onto him, your legs instinctively locking around his waist as he gripped the space of your upper thigh. You let a laugh spring free as he moved forward, your arms desperately tightening their hold.

"This is the living room, kitchen, and hall," Quinn pointed out as he moved through the apartment, his eyes never leaving yours. He turned, careful not to jostle you too much, as he pushed a door open, entering the room backwards. "And this is the bedroom,"

"Oh, my favourite so far," you hummed, your fingers carefully curling around the curls at the base of Quinn's neck. You were suddenly placed down on a soft surface, your body sinking into comfort as Quinn took a step back.

"And that's my bed," he spoke. He kept his darkening eyes on you while your hands smoothed across the fabric of his sheets, your feet kicking off your shoes. You had to hold back a laugh as you childishly flopped back against the bed. "Make yourself at home."

"I plan to," you said, pushing yourself up to face the rugged man. You crossed your legs as you lazed back on your hands. "Help me?"

Quinn bit back his own smile as he stepped closer to the bed. His hand reached for your knees, forcing you to uncross them as he pressed a long and demanding kiss to your lips. You found yourself melting into his every touch, becoming soft like wax—so easily malleable, there to be toyed with and moulded into whatever he wanted.

His hand crept upwards, cupping your jaw as he moved your head to turn ever so slightly. He pulled away from your lips, grazing his own along the skin of your cheeks, and you were it felt like a raging swirl of fire moving down your body and straight to your core. He tilted your head further, your eyes dropping closed as he began a tirade of unhurried kisses down the expanse of your neck.

You let a small gasp slip from your lips as Quinn suddenly suckled on the flesh just above the base of your neck, the biting sting of pressure perfectly soothed by his tongue smoothing over the purpling bruise. You let him manoeuvre you as his other hand ran up and down your pant-covered leg, his fingers light and teasing, knowing exactly what they were doing to you.

Quinn pulled back fully now, his hand still against your cheek, his thumb caressing your cheekbone as he admired the various blotches he'd left across your skin.

"Beautiful," he sighed, his eyes traversing back to yours. His eyes were heavy, half-lidded, and filled with what you could only describe as pure want. You leaned into him, connecting your lips to his once more, your body squirming with need. He pulled away almost instantly, his lips still against yours as he whispered. "Not yet…patience, pretty girl."

You found yourself gulping as Quinn moved down your clothed body. His hands ran upwards, lingering at the bottom of the top you had worn out.

"Can I take this off?" He asked, his voice pleading. His eyes were fixated on you, despite his wandering hands that ran beneath the top. You found yourself nodding, to which Quinn frowned. "Words, pretty girl…I need to hear them."

"Take it off, please," you breathed out, your chest rising and falling abnormally quick as Quinn hummed and lifted the shirt from your body, leaving your chest in just your bra.

"And this?" Quinn smirked, toying with the lace-edged strap of your bra, his tongue running over his lip.

"Take it off," you confirmed. Quinn had no hesitation when he quickly unclasped it and threw it into the unknown, leaving your chest bare for him to witness. You smiled as he made a choking sound; his warm hands ran up and down your goose-bumped skin. Your head lolled back as he cupped your breasts, leaning down to press chaste kisses to the sensitive skin.

"Quinn," you found yourself pleading, your hands laving through his loose waves as he sucked a bruise just above your nipple, his tongue swirling over it as you whined. He let out a breathy laugh as he brought his face up to yours, his breath fanning across your cheeks.

"I want to taste you," he murmured, brushing his nose against yours before he smoothly moved downward, his eyes trained on your widened ones.

His thumbs caught in the waistband of your pants, silently searching for permission before he began to pull them down slowly, revealing your skin that was practically itching with need. The fabric moved down your legs swiftly as Quinn's nimble fingers pulled them off of you completely. His hand remained lightly holding your ankle, his eyes still on yours as he moved to kneel before you.

You dropped back onto your elbows, your head tilting back as Quinn slowly pressed longer, and chaste kisses up your leg towards your upper thigh.

"Oh god," you gasped out as he pressed a kiss right below the hem of your pants. Quinn hummed through a chuckle, lifting his head for a second.

"Not quite," he mused. He ran his fingers over the dampened fabric, relishing the way you squirmed against his every touch. "Will you let me taste you, y/n?"

You pried open your eyes to meet his desperate ones, his hands on either one of your thighs, thumbs smoothing over the supple flesh.

"Please," you begged, your hand tugging on his curls. You pulsed with need, your body flushed with desire, as Quinn thumbed his lip in thought.

"Only because you asked so nicely," he whispered breathlessly.

You gasped as Quinn's tongue came into contact with your clothed core. He trailed his tongue over the dampness before he nipped the hem of your pants with his teeth, dragging them down your legs without breaking eye contact. You felt your heart thumping loudly against the confines of your chest as he threw your pants onto the floor before he quite literally dove in.

Quinn devoured you like a man starved.

Your eyes had shot closed as you felt his tongue glide through your wet folds, circling your clitoral area as he pleasured you. Your head fell back in silent ecstasy, with your mouth agape as his tongue flicked over the sensitive nub. He slowly worked a finger inside of you, your walls clenching down as he moved it in and out.

"You look so pretty like this," Quinn mumbled in hushed tones. He crooked his finger inside of you, pressing against your soft walls as you let out a breathy moan. He sucked your sensitive nub into his mouth, circling it with his tongue, while he slipped his finger in and out easily due to your arousal.

You carded your fingers through his hair as you felt him slowly push another finger into your wetness, causing Quinn to groan against you, vibrating across your clit as he continued his tirade of sucking and swirling.

"You take my fingers so well," he praised, his eyes moving up to witness your blissful face. The feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of your drenched core, hitting every nerve cell, sent you into overdrive and wiped away any thought other than the pleasure he was giving you. Your hips jolted towards his fingers with a shameless moan as you tried to feel as much of him as he was letting you.

Quinn had a gift, you decided, as he brought you closer and closer to the taunting edge of what seemed like endless pleasure.

You cried out as he curled his fingers, moving them more rapidly as you held onto his hair, your thighs closing around his head. The familiar sensation of a tightening swirl formed in your core, wracking through your body and threatening to spill over. You tightened around Quinn's fingers as he sped up, hitting places you hadn't even realised could be hit.

"Gonna come," you panted out, your eyes fluttering as Quinn seemed to ignore your warning, continuing his pursuit of your pleasure as your body trembled beneath him.

Without warning, the feeling of euphoria washed over your body, your thighs tensing around Quinn's head as he worked you through your orgasm, your chest heaving breathlessly as your back arched against the bed. You felt his fingers ease in and out past the tension, trying to prolong your orgasm for as long as it could.

Your eyes had rolled far back into your head, your fingers gripping onto Quinn's hair as he slowly withdrew to relish the look of pure, unadulterated pleasure that cascaded across your face.

With one last, languid pump, he removed his fingers from your slickness, causing your eyes to peel open. Quinn was flushed and covered in your wetness; his hair was ruffled and messy from where you'd been holding on.

And you'd never seen something so attractive in your life.

Quinn kept his eyes on yours as he raised his fingers to his lips and sucked your juices off of his digits with a crude pop.

Scratch your last statement—now, you'd never seen something as attractive as that in your life.

Despite your shaky body, you found yourself standing up, pulling Quinn off of the floor by his collar, and dragging him towards you to meet him with a punishing kiss.

You felt yourself melt into the embrace, the taste of you still smothering his tongue as you gripped his collar and slowly began to unbutton the white shirt he adorned. You'd gotten bored of being the only one bare; your desire to see Quinn naked overwhelmed your senses.

Your hands smoothed up and down his abs as you unbuttoned, and your kiss was unwavering as Quinn allowed you to work away. You rolled his shirt off his shoulders, your hands traipsing over the thick flesh of his biceps, causing you to pull away and admire his upper body, now fully on display.

Your fingers trailed across his shoulders and arms before you leaned forward and kissed the base of his neck, beginning your path down to the waistband of his jeans. Keeping eye contact, you dropped to your knees, your hands scrambling to unbuckle his pants, craving the bulge that protruded from beneath the fabric.

Just as you fully unbuttoned his pants, Quinn tutted and grabbed your hands, lifting you back up to your feet. You found yourself whining as you stood, your nose brushing against his as he chuckled.

"C'mon," you pouted, "at least let me have a taste."

"On the bed," Quinn ordered, his thumb dragging your lip as you rolled your eyes and sat back on the bed, your anticipation growing with each moment as Quinn stood before you, his gaze smouldering with desire. With deliberate movements, he removed his jeans, revealing the bulge that had been teasing you, now pressing against the fabric of his boxer briefs.

You watched intently as he discarded his remaining clothing, your breath hitching in your throat at the sight of his naked form. Quinn's physique was a work of art, with every muscle defined and rippling beneath his skin, a testament to his strength.

He climbed onto the bed, his body hovering over yours as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. You rolled your hips against him, wantonly moaning into the kiss at the feeling of his cock pushing against your skin.

"I need you, Quinn," you panted as you broke away, his eyes glittering with lust as they gazed down on you.

"Alright," he hummed, pulling away completely as he grabbed something from the set of drawers behind him. "Since you've been so patient." Quinn held out a wrapped condom, his grin widening as he stared you down with a cheeky smile. "Open it for me?"

You bit your lip and nodded, taking the condom and ripping the foil with your teeth. You took out the condom and looked up at Quinn as one of your hands drifted towards his stiff cock. You heard a deep grumble erupt from him as your thumb rolled over his tip before running along his shaft.

"Can I please?" You frowned playfully up at Quinn, practically salivating at the mere thought of having him inside your mouth.

Quinn rolled his head back, a low groan escaping his lips as he felt your touch tantalisingly close to where he craved it most. He brushed his fingertips beneath your chin, his eyes smouldering with desire.

"Patience, pretty girl," he whispered huskily, his fingers trailing along your jawline. "You'll get your chance."

You couldn't help but pout, feeling a delicious ache between your thighs as anticipation coiled tighter within you. But you trusted Quinn's lead, knowing the reward would be worth the wait.

With practised ease, Quinn plucked the condom from your fingers and sheathed himself in the condom, his movements deliberate and precise. He then hovered over you once more, the heat of his body searing against your skin.

"Ready?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire as you leaned further back into his soft sheets.

You nodded eagerly, your heart pounding in your chest as you spread your legs, inviting him closer. With a slow, torturous glide, Quinn entered you, filling you completely with a single, seamless thrust.

"Oh my god," you drawled, your eyes rolling back into your head as your fingers jumped to grasp at him. Quinn grunted as he thrust into you, spurred on by the feeling of your fingernails digging into the skin of his back and by the addictive little sounds you were making for him.

You could feel him everywhere. His touch was like wildfire, spreading with no containment and burning you with the purest desire. Your body writhed as he pounded into you, his soft groans in your ear adding to the intensity of the moment.

You mentally praised whoever Quinn's personal trainer was because his stamina was unrelenting as the sound of skin-on-skin slapping echoed through the room intertwined with your soft moans.

You gasped as Quinn suddenly started shallowly snapping his hips into you, his shaft deep within, causing sweat to pour from your skin. You arched off of the bed in pleasure, your fingers deep into the skin of Quinn's muscular back. His mouth moved to your lips as he fucked into you, your tongues plunging into one another's mouths.

You rolled your hips towards him as your lips separated from his, needing more of him inside you. He met your needy attempts with fierceness as that tightening knot within you began to pull in your core. You were no longer coherent in your words, each one of your moans laced with reckless abandon and a feeling of indulgence.

"Quinn," you eventually managed to gasp, feeling your orgasm encroach, your cunt fluttering around his cock. Quinn hummed as he thrust harder (you hadn't realised that was possible!).

"I know, pretty girl," he murmured, pressing kisses on the bruises on your neck that he'd previously gifted you. "I can feel you clenching around me."

You couldn't even find the words within you as your body shuddered, your orgasm washing over you in sudden flashes. You felt yourself clench harder around Quinn as he continued to thrust in and out of you, chasing his own pleasure while helping you ride through yours.

"That's it," Quinn gasped out, his pace slowing as you clawed into him. He let his head drop as he spilt inside of the condom, his steady thrust now sputtering. You groaned at the feeling of him inside you while he pried open his eyes and met your lips with another fiery kiss.

You both lay there, breathless and spent, intertwined in a tangle of limbs and sheets. The room was filled with a heady mixture of your mingled scents and the echoes of your shared passion.

Quinn brushed a strand of hair away from your flushed face, his eyes softening as he gazed at you with an adoring intensity. You returned his gaze, feeling a warmth spread through your chest at the affection in his eyes.

"God, that was…you were…" Quinn murmured, his voice husky with emotion, as he pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. You smiled up at him, feeling a surge of contentment wash over you.

"You're not so bad yourself," you teased, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest once he'd slipped out from inside of you and disposed of the used condom.

Quinn chuckled a deep rumble that reverberated through his chest. You allowed yourself to settle on the sheets, your breathing steadying as you tried to relax your racing heart. As your gaze began to fade, he returned beside you, his hand stroking up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their trail.

"I should probably get going," you murmured, kissing the palm of his hand as he cupped your cheek.

"Unless you stayed, just for tonight, of course," Quinn whispered, his eyes pleading as you bit your lip nervously. "And we could go again?"

You felt your cheeks heat as your eyes darkened.

"Just once more?"

Quinn nudged your chin with a finger, causing both of your lips to graze as a soft breath escaped yours.

"Oh, sweet girl, I plan on taking you multiple times tonight, if you let me."

"Well then, what are we waiting for?"

tags: @quintinh43 @hughes86-43 @josierosie @starswin @ashes2ashesweallfall @megaluke @coldheartedmar @snailss @rhino-saurus @lupinslibraries @alwaysclassyeagle @ru-kru @xaelia-au @dreamsarebig

[tojisun]

into my flesh

toji x fem reader

!! smut fic - minors dni; hinted age gap; mentioned jealousy; praise and degradation kink; petnames; squirting; brief cervix sex; breeding kink; passing out post-sex; mentioned aftercare; toji’s big dick galore // 2.4k words

: have my horny thoughts strung to form a somewhat coherent fic; i hope u guys would like it <33; title of the fic is from flesh - simon curtis

there is something in the way you make toji jealous that unleashes the ever-pooling desire he has for you.

wearing that red silk dress that he bought for you on your birthday, pulling him in with the curl of your lips, but never allowing him to venture close. you sidestep away from his touch whenever he tries to hook his arm around your waist, your lips pursed like toji isn’t worth your minute.

toji's glower grows and his frown deepens but he gets it.

he knows this game. he knows that you're just trying to set his veins ablaze because oh how you love it when his lips are pulled back in a snarl and his hips are punching in their thrust and his hands find their purchase around your neck. oh how you love his growled words pressed on the rise of your breasts, promises of filth rippling along your damp skin, before full lips circle around your hardened nipple. oh how you love it when toji is ruthless with his love — animalistic and jagged and overarching.

toji knows how this game goes so he slinks back into the shadows and watches you. he watches the way you hover around this boy — because what else could he be if not a boy whose lips twitch in their attempt to keep your attention, his fingers fiddling with the loose dress shirt hanging off of him, all because he could not handle your magnificence — and titter at his jokes, your eyelashes batting purposefully delicate, enticing him in a way that no other could. your hair frames your face devilishly: the cut of your jaw is sharp, your cheekbones are defined, and your eyes are half-lidded.

toji is feet away from you but even his throat goes parched. he can’t blame the kid for swooning even if toji wants nothing more but to pull you away from those coveting eyes.

——————————————————

toji’s smile is cruel as he taps the head of his cock on your twitching cunt. you whimper a choked moan, your eyes fluttering shut as the tears continue to spill. your lashes are sticking together and you are sure your “waterproof” eyeliner is all but retained, but fuck.

fuck.

your chest heaves as you gaze back into toji’s eyes, sharp hues of green looking at you with such reverence like you’re so precious even when utterly debauched. like toji loves you like this: heady and desperate and mewling. and he does. you know he does. but there is something so good at the reminder of how your presence pushes toji past his built walls, ushering his scarred palms to feel you.

he is so beautiful like this: impatient and hungry for you.

(toji has always been beautiful but in way that was not apparent in your exes — satoru with his twinkling eyes that crinkle every time he laughs; kento with his quiet drawl as he whispers your name; mei with her sloping curves and her pianist fingers ghosting their touch along your spine. no. toji is not delicate like them; even in his softness, toji has always been different and stark against your history of picnic dates and lavender kisses.

because toji, with his maps of scars and speckles of grey hair peppering the sea of black and crooked grin and aged hands and deep baritone, was not fortunate enough to afford to grow in his gentleness. he had to learn it himself — crafting fragility from his weaponry of agony and anger, all for you. all because of you. because he saw you and realized he loved you and promised, then, that he would bear kindness from his ruined hands.)

“hey,” toji’s voice is gruff as he calls out to you, pulling you from your swimming thoughts. “y’still there, baby?”

you blink back at him, glossed eyes focusing on his face.

oh how cruel of you to think about other people when toji, the man whom you love with all that you are, has you pinned down on his bed, mounting you with his bigger body. fuck, the reminder of how easy it was for toji to press your legs parallel to your chest has you breathing heavily, your pussy clenching at nothing. a quiet huff escapes your kiss-swollen lips, your eyes almost going crossed when toji slides his cock along your soaked folds again.

“yes,” you finally hum. “please, fuck me.” your empty hands slide down his chest, running your fingertips past his nipples and down to where he has a fist around his heavy and thick and full cock. your tongue juts out to swipe at your lips, feeling utterly hungry all of a sudden.

“impatient,” toji tuts. “after almost dozing on me an’ everything.”

your cheeks burn, your lips pouting. you murmur unintelligibly, not really refuting his words but not admitting to them either.

“shh,” toji whispers at seeing you flustered. he cups your cheeks, sliding his thumb just below your eyes. “was just joking, sweetheart.”

your lips part open for a response, one that dashes from the tip of your tongue at the feeling of toji’s cock slowly pushing in your pussy. you keen, your back arching off the bed.

god, you feel so full. and even then, with your quiet whimpers and curling toes, toji’s still not all the way in. your eyes flutter at every steady slide, panting at the feeling of being so stretched out. you don’t even hear yourself keening, so focused in the way toji’s cock breaches your walls like this is the first time all over again.

toji’s so gentle even when you can hear his heaving breaths, his fingers — the free hand that he has that’s holding onto your hip — dimpling your skin where the thin line of sweat builds up because of the heat simmering from toji’s palm. you peer up at him through clumped lashes, gasping quietly at the look you see on his face.

toji’s brows curl the way you know he’s barely suppressing himself from punching in his thrusts. his lips — scarred and plump and beautiful — are pulled in a snarl, and you shiver at the intensity of his eyes when he pulls them up from where you two are connected to meet your own.

he growls, the sound so animalistic it reverberates within the space between you two, sending goosebumps rising across the expanse of your skin.

“shit, baby,” toji groans, full-stopping and bracing himself with his hands on either side of your head. a sort of giddy and disbelief fills the bubble in your stomach — toji isn’t even fully in yet. “you’re so good, might just cum like this.”

he shallowly pulls out, you moan, your tears building up again, before he’s thrusting back in and breaching further in you. “just gon’ feel your cunt warm my cock like this, have you looking like the doll you are, an’ i’ll be gone.”

he sweeps your damp hair away from your face.

“you heard what i said, baby?” toji asks like you weren’t hanging onto his every word like they are gospel, pulling his cock back out, the slide is torturously slow, and only stopping when all that’s left in you is the head of his weeping cock. “you could milk me dry with just a bat of your eyes.”

you giggle, punching his chest playfully. “shut up and fuck me already!” you whine. toji winks at you in response and you roll your eyes with a fond smile, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth.

“mm, whatever my princess wants.” then toji thrusts all the way in.

you wail, feeling his cock hit something nestled deep in you, but you couldn’t even think for a second and figure out what it was because toji’s pulling out, not letting you get used to the full stretch of his cock, and fucking into you just as fast, his pelvis grinding against yours.

toji doesn’t stop, his hips unrelenting as they piston fast and hard and deep. you squeal, your fingers digging into the duvet, fisting them tightly as dizzying pleasure overwhelms you. toji’s head bows, the muscles of his back rippling as he does so, and bites on the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

“toji!” you cry, voice almost breaking into a sob, at the sharp pain on your neck mingling with the overdrive of pleasure erupting across your veins.

toji hums, his voice muffled in your skin. when he pulls back, he folds himself before you, pressing his weight on the back of your thighs.

“god, baby,” toji groans. “so wet around me.” he humps his hips forward as he says this, as though urging you to feel the sloppy mess running down the sides of your thighs. you choke, your eyes rolling back. toji does it again, his face finding its spot on the crook of your neck as he fucks you, his hips rolling every time he’s pressed close, and you hiccup at every new angle he hits.

there’s a weight inside you every time toji fucks in. it feels foreign but not unwanted; overwhelming and sensitive. when toji bucks in, you realize what it is that he’s hitting.

you squeal, crying as you scream, almost like the knowledge alone of toji pressing his cock in your deepest part brought about a new feeling of pleasure.

toji laughs, his voice ripping through your echoes of shaky sobs. “you feel it, baby?” he lifts his face to meet your eyes. “oh, yeah you do.” his voice crinkles like he is amused.

“deep!” you cry, trembling, your mind unable to string any more coherent sentences.

toji hums. “feel me kissing your cervix? if i press in like this,” he pauses to press his pelvis flushed close to yours, his eyes furrowing and his grin growing sharp when he feels you squeeze around him, your tight walls spasming around the thick curve of his cock. you let out a long hiss, your eyes fluttering at the feeling of being utterly stuffed.

“see, sweetheart?” toji continues, his voice low and guttural. “your womb is practically opening up for my cock.” you hiccup at his words, your cheeks warming up at the slur of his voice. the imagery makes your moans wobble, and toji laughs when he feels your pussy twitch around him again.

“oh darling,” he croons. “you love it when i talk to you about your hungry cunt? wanna hear the way it’s clinging so greedily around my cock? oh, yeah you do. you love being reminded how desperate of a slut you turn to.”

you sob, your voice breaking into breathy ah-ah-ahs. toji shakes his head, fully endeared even when you are splayed out before him — your skin glistening with sweat; your hair sticking to your forehead; your pussy stretched and wet and dripping as it clings around toji’s thick cock.

toji hums, delighted, before straightening back again. his cock slides out, its head leaving the depths of your walls — your cervix, you are reminded when toji rocks back in again as if testing how deep he’s claimed you — and you watch, even with muddled mind and blurry eyes, as toji holds onto the meat of your thighs.

it all happens so quickly. you saw toji’s mirage, a god-incarnate before you, and the next thing you know, he’s fucking you hard and fast, his mind focused on nothing but making you cum. you can hear yourself screaming, your throat burning alongside the pleasure erupting from your pussy. your blunt fingernails are digging into toji’s shoulders, and it is all you can do to reel yourself in from the numbing pleasure as toji pistons his hips, his pace picking up, going faster, faster, faster–!

“shit, baby!” he crows as the first spray of your squirt hits his pelvis. “yes!” toji hisses. “c’mon, sweetheart, keep squirtin’ on me.”

your eyes roll back and your ears are ringing, but you do just as he said: you squirt with every push of his cock, the rivulets between your thighs dripping to stain the sheets.

it takes toji four unrelenting thrusts before his hard pistoning peters into pathetic humps, his own orgasm building rapidly. “‘m gon’ breed this pussy,” toji murmurs, so pussy-drunk that his words turn into accented slurs. “‘m gon’ fill you up. you want that, baby? wanna be filled up?”

“yes, please!” you scream, nodding, your hand reaching down to rub at your hardened clit. “fill me, toji! fill me, please!”

“of course, sweet thing,” toji growls, pushing his cock all the way in, before you feel the sprays of hot cum shooting into your sensitive walls.

a choked moan escapes your throat before you are cumming agin, your soaked cunt squeezing toji’s one last time — “fuck, darling,” he moans, his voice curling into a hiss — then your eyes finally shut close.

——————————————————

you wake up to your head tucked into the crook of toji’s neck, your silk pajamas crinkling as you move about the bed. throbbing pain echoes mutely from your spine, and your exhausted mind reels back at the onslaught of memories.

oh. oh fuck.

you can’t believe you passed out. while toji’s balls deep in you, too.

you choke, embarrassment rushing across your veins.

a muffled squawk is ripped from your throat, tentatively distracting you from your thoughts, when toji’s arms tug you further into his embrace like you’re not already pressed flush to him. you study his face, watching as his brows begin to crinkle like he’s about to wake up.

before you can effectively escape from the rousing toji, his voice rumbles from where his lips are pressed on the crown of your head.

“g’mornin’,” he whispers.

you cringe, realizing that you have to face the embarrassment of passing out on toji while he’s literally breeding you. you cough, awkwardly, and greet, “good morning,” your voice quiet and broken. oh wow.

toji whistles, pulling back just enough to eye you. “you sound ruined,” he states.

you smack his exposed — hickey and bite mark-littered — chest. “whose fault is it?” you hiss at him.

toji grins. “mine.” he says it so cheekily and with so much pride, his scarred lips stretching to show off sharp canines.

you smack him again, futilely ignoring the explosion of warmth in your cheeks and the growing embarrassment curling at your stomach.

“ow! baby, ow!” toji cries, rolling away to avoid your soft punches. you follow him with difficulty, your body still aching, but you are determined to smack toji until your shame abates.

you fail, anyways, when toji drapes himself across you like an overgrown and clingy cat, trapping you between him and the soft bed.

ugh, why’s he literally so cute.

[abibliophobiaa]

prompt word - bikini!

18+ (800 words); p in v smut ahead.

-

It’s a black number with neon green accents. Tantalizing lines that hit high on the curve of your hips, along the plushest part of you. The place Eddie’s fingers curl around when he beckons you forward for a kiss.

Now you’re only standing before him on Steve’s diving board, stretching your arms upward in the air, back arching, head thrown back as you soak up the sun.

Stretching.

You’re stretching and he’s hard as a fucking rock.

And you know it, too.

Have that wild glint in your eye when you lower your head and glance his way. The look that’s a mere dare, a curl of your fingers beckoning him forth, a ‘come hither.’

It’s how he ends up with you scrambling across his center console in the van. How his fingers hook your bikini bottom to the side and part your center with his fingers, rasping a moan that mingles with yours when he feels how deliciously wet you are—how you’ve likely been all day.

“I love this bikini. But I think it needs to come off,” he murmurs against hot flesh, fingers palming the dough of your ass as you rock against him. “Fuck, baby—”

“Want you, Eddie.”

It’s a whisper against his lips. Cut off with a low moan from the man as your fingers move to unbutton his jeans. His zipper follows suit, a quick glide of metal cutting the silence, hips moving upward just enough to allow him to push jeans and boxers down around his thighs, freeing himself.

You palm his cock once, twice, before pushing your bikini bottom to the side and aligning himself at your center.

“Slow down, baby—holyfuckinshit.”

A curse rounds his lips as you sink down inch by glorious inch, head lolling back and hitting the headrest of his seat when your hips rest flush against his.

He loves you in all phases.

Has for a while now.

Hair a mess, first thing in the morning when you wake. On the days where you don’t feel like yourself. The days you doll yourself up because you simply want to go all out. On the days where you wear his clothes, because you like the way they smell like him.

Like this, right now in this moment, with your bottom lip pinching between your teeth, hips rolling against his, thighs on either side of his waist, chasing your own pleasure. Mouth parted. Eyes blown out in lust.

It’s a frantic glide.

The sounds of your slick, your quiet moans mingling with his, and the breathy hitch in your throat fill the air.

Your fingers splay over his sternum, clutching at the fabric of his shirt, as you fuck yourself down on him, meeting him thrust for thrust, chasing your peaks, drawing yourselves closer and closer to completion.

“That’s it, baby. Take what you need. Just like that. Come on.”

His palm glides up along your shoulders. Curls around the back of your neck to ground you as your pace quickens, bouncing on his cock, breaking off into a high keen as you shatter around him.

His other arm curls around the back of your waist, hips jerking up from the bottom of you once, twice, three times as you clench down on him until he’s coming with a low groan, gasping into the hollow of your throat, whispering he loves you into sweat-slick skin.

Giggling, eyes still rounded in your lusty haze, you curl your fingers around his chin. Brush a soft kiss against his lips as your skin starts to cool once more. “Think the food is done yet?”

And it is.

There’s a whole table full of hotdogs and burgers, condiments strewn about, macaroni and potato salad galore, bowls full of chips, and more drink options than you can count on one hand.

Eddie grins to himself as he watches you chat with Robin across the table, knowing full well he’d slid your bathing suit bottom back into place after fucking you full so you could keep him inside, knowing your legs had trembled as you hopped out of his van, knowing he’d promised to bend you over the hood of it later and do it all over again when you simpered against his mouth that you needed him once more.

So maybe he asks, “Want another hotdog, baby?” when he knows you only had a burger.

Just to mess with you a little.

Rile you up.

And maybe you narrow your eyes at him when he laughs to himself.

Whisper for him to shut up.

But he makes it up to you later just like he told you he would.

Chest over the hood of his car, bikini bottom pushed to the side, fingers around your hips, stretching you open in the way you like until you cry out his name, love a mantra on your lips.

-

[amourcheol]

angel (or devil)

❝Because the devil, too, was once an angel.❞

one night stand! au | smut | 4.2k words

s u m m a r y : when your friends drag you to a nightclub, all you want to do is run away. that is when a boy with light, silvery curls and a hypnotic smile offers an escape, and you think you have found your angel in disguise. his intentions with you, though, are anything but saintly.

c o n t e n t : this is literally just filth nothing else, seungcheol has silver hair, he is in that exact fuck ass white outfit from that concert (you know which one), too many angel and devil references, seungcheol is an arrogant ass, reader is low-key a brat, dirty talk galore, fingering, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid like these mfs), lowkey choking kink, eventual orgasming, cheol has a big cock (everybody act surprised)

p l a y l i s t : angel by the weeknd || acquainted by the weeknd

a u t h o r ‘ s  n o t e : i wrote this in one sitting my god this is so unedited.... thank u to alice for believing i could write pwp thank u to the weeknd for his horny ass songs and fuck you 230709 cheol this is what you’ve made me... i literally have no words.... so sleep deprived... anyway pls do enjoy the horny musings and thank u for reading </3

YOU HAD NEVER BELIEVED IN THE EXISTENCE OF ANGELS.

You had always considered it religious fanatics, glorified myths to lure the naive populations to believe in things that would harm them in the future. The idea of angels to you was sweet, but unsatisfactory, a religious relic that should have stayed in history. 

Angels were a myth long dismissed until you saw the boy with the silver curls.

It was meant to be a forgettable night. You were dragged by your friends to some downtown club, urging you to get out of your apartment for once in your life. Never did you think you would find anything worth entertaining you as you scanned your surroundings, your friends already occupying themselves with the bar, leaving you at the seats next to all the dancing.

You distinctly remember trying to plan your escape route when you saw him.

Leaning along the bar surface, club lights flashing all over him and his friends’ bodies—but you did not care about his friends, because he was there, solitary in your eyes, as if he appeared out of the pages of a religious text. The darkness of the vast room could not devour the white attire he had donned; a simple white shirt was tucked into trousers of the same colour, the fabric tightening upon his chest with every shift of his shoulders. His cream-coloured boots tapped against the thundering beat of the music, chuckling at some distant joke his friends were reciting. 

You blinked back, not quite sure whether what you were witnessing was fatal attraction or the consequences of too much drink. Because you only had one cocktail, you knew your eyes were not deceiving you.

But then his gaze slid to you, catching you red-handed.

His lips morphed into a smirk, and maybe you were dreaming. 

Your dream was confirmed to be a full truth when he whispered something to his friends, and began walking over to you, a bottle in hand.

Had the club not been so loud, you were certain he would have heard your heart beating out of your chest. “You really need to work on your checking out skills,” was the first thing he ever said to you, and you blamed the heat of too many people when your cheeks burned.

You could not help it—angels were meant to be too beautiful not to stare.

“Are you gonna tell me your name, or are you only gonna acknowledge me when I’m halfway across the club?”

The angel seemed to have a mouth on him. Just your luck. “How about you tell me yours first?” you asked, sipping your cocktail.

A click of his tongue. “You’re the one who stared.”

A narrow of your eyes. “You’re the one who came.”

The boy snorted, running his hands through his hair—you wondered what they would feel like underneath your fingertips. “Seungcheol,” he then said, settling down next to you. 

“Seungcheol,” you repeated, trying out the syllables on your tongue. So the angel had a pretty name.

He raised a groomed brow at you. “This is when you tell me yours.”

Another sip of your cocktail. “Never said I would.”

This time he chuckled, a sound that resided nicely in your ears. “I guess I’ll have to be happy enough with you ogling at me from afar.”

“I was not!” you lied shamelessly.

“You were.”

“I wasn’t!”

But he knew you were lying because he pinned an incredulous stare upon you, laced with something undecipherable. “You were, sweetheart.”

Fuck. As you took the last sip of your drink, you said, “_____.”

The victorious grin he offered you had your stomach fluttering. “There we go.”

It was at that particular moment, when you both stared at each other a little too long, that this smart-ass, angel-like boy would be your escape. 

Of course, he did not possess wings, but he replaced the skill of flight with the skill of flirtation, which was working too well on you. By the next hour the two of you were joined at the hip, your friends forgotten as the two of you took your conversations to the dance floor. 

If his art of conversation was not already exquisite, the way his body moved along to the music was something else entirely. The people around you noticed the clear attraction, simpering off the two of you, more so when this Seungcheol’s hands skirted along your figure, resting upon your hips as he led you to the heavy beat. You found yourself welcoming his touches, a notion you found absolutely shocking, seeing as this was the first time you had seen him. 

As the night began to age, the two of you became all the more courageous with your casual touches. He was handsome, there was no doubt about it. You wondered whether he felt the same when he confirmed your suspicions with whispers in your ear. 

“You’re too beautiful to keep you in the club lights,” he said to you that night, a hand on your back as he walked with you to the entrance. “Let me take you somewhere else.”

“And where would that somewhere be?” you asked him, hoping he would answer what you had in mind.

“How does my apartment sound?” 

He truly was an angel—just a horny one at that.

How fortunate that you shared his sentiments.

“That sounds perfect.”

The smile that morphed his cherry lips had your insides singing, as he took your hand in his and led you out of the club.

The journey to his car was only a few minutes, but the way back to his place felt like forever—there was an unspoken arrangement now, the two of you acutely aware of what was going to happen. It made you lock and unlock your hands in your lap; for Seungcheol, it had him drumming his fingers against the car wheel, bouncing his leg in anticipation.

But then his complex was in view, and you could barely keep your head from spiralling as he parked his car, almost flying out of his seat. The tension had been built up to an uncomfortable extent, neither one making the first move until his home was in reach.

The moment he spotted his apartment, though, his greed took the reins of his entire body.

Grabbing hold of your waist, he pushed you against the door, relishing the way your eyes widened at the sudden impact. 

When you noticed his fingers begin to wander, you got out, heart in your throat, “What happened to going inside?”

He leaned in, and his lips brushed against your cheeks, finding solace in your ear. “Do you want to wait that long, sweetheart?” 

His breath on your skin could have set you on fire. You tried to speak, but your delays only had him insisting, “Answer me.”

One more graze of his mouth against your jaw, and you had had enough. 

“I can’t wait anymore.”

Pulling away, but only enough to look you in the eye, the curve of his mouth had your nerves in a frenzy.

“Didn’t think so.”

And with that, he swooped in, colliding his lips against yours. 

Instantly, like second nature you melted into him, wrapping your arms around him as he kissed you like a boy parched, your lips being his only source of sustenance. Harmoniously your lips moved together, no doubt aching to be connected the moment you both saw each other at that nightclub. His one hand like iron upon your waist, the other travelled to your jaw, holding your face in his fingers. 

Angling your face, he deepened the kiss, boosting the pleasure for you, and he revelled in your hums against him, desire radiating off your urgent hands gripping onto his tight white shirt. You were so compliant, so good for him, even as he broke the seam of your lips with his tongue, an invitation for more. 

How could you refuse an angel when he offered gifts?

You opened your mouth, and his tongue slithered inside, warm against your own. You swirled it with his, and his panting had you becoming more urgent, fisting the fabric of his shirt, snuffing out any distance that should keep you from him.

You needed him here—you needed him now.

“Seungche—” you tried, breaking away from his mouth, a sacrifice you had to make to reap a greater reward, but then his mouth planted on the corner of your lips. He trailed down, pressing open-mouthed kisses upon your throat, and a soft whine escaped you—at this rate, your fists were going to rip his shirt off.

The very thought had your insides chanting in excitement.

“Seungcheol—!” you rasped out when he took a liking to a particular spot between your neck and shoulder. “Wait, we need to go inside—!”

He mumbled against your skin, teeth grazing upon your collarbone. With great strength he released you from his hold, but only for a minute as his hands scrambled in his back pocket for the keys. 

Fishing them out, the dolt nearly dropped them, but how could he help himself? Could he be stable now, when all his thoughts were rooted around you—your spit-slick lips, your fingers on his shirt, your eyes darting between his shaking hands, and his ravenous gaze?

He jabbed the keys inside the lock, twisting and turning till the door unlocked, and he thanked every deity in the universe when the door flipped open. Wasting no more time, his hands caged you again, and this moment, when he swooped down to capture your lips again, he was having no more distractions. 

You stumbled back against him, his boot kicking the door shut as he pinned you against the wall of the hallway, the lights automatically sparking to life in your presence. His mouth was upon you once more, snatching the very breath from you as his hands crept to the buttons of your skirt. 

As his mouth distracted you, eliciting the sweetest whimpers from your throat, he unravelled each button—one soft tug, and the useless garment fell to the floor. He broke away from you, catching the sight of your black underwear, laced at the edges, and he was sure he was going to lose his mind. 

A shuddered fuck escaped his glistening mouth as his palm slid down the lace, your eyes widening when he found the fabric wet beneath his fingertips. His curse was louder this time.

You watched him ogle at your soaked panties, heartbeat pumping in your ears from the sheer sensation.

You wondered whether the angel you had met in the club was truly as saintly as you had imagined.

When Seungcheol began to move his fingers upon the dripping fabric, you knew you had made up your mind. 

A string of groans slipped out from you as he sensed your clit underneath, a phantom smile parting his mouth. “You like that?” he asked you, sweet as an angel, sweet as heaven when his fingers were doing the devil’s work. When you nodded hurriedly at him, shuddering out your breathing, he tutted at you, fingers slowing. “No, no, baby, I need you to say it.”

“Y-yeah, yes,” you could only get out, the only words in the English language that you could comprehend because then his pace increased, and you shut yourself up completely, hanging onto his shoulders. “Feels s-so good.”

“Hmm…” He circled your bundle of nerves, you tensing with each perfect movement—your hips constricted against his touch, feeling your release on its way should he continue. He fastened his slender fingers, and your legs nearly buckled as that impending feeling crept closer, threatening to crumble around him.

He could feel it coming, you supposed, with the way your eyes dazed out, mouth going slack. “You’re close, are you?” he got out, his free hand pinning your enthusiastic hips to the wall. “God, so excited to cum on my fingers?”

You tried to answer him with good, sane, words, because that’s how you reply to a boy when he asks you a question—but this was no man, and these were not good, sane words he offered you. From his baritone you could tell he was taunting you, something you should have known the moment you had your first conversation with him.

His torment only brought you closer to your ruination.

“Answer me, sweetheart,” he whispered to you, voice grating. “Do you want to cum or not?”

But your mind was a fog, and the only clear thing in sight was his fingers, moving so fast, so perfectly around your clothed clit that you could not respond to his fated question. You could only whimper out unintelligible words, voice heightening to the clouds. 

That did not suit him at all.

“Is that how you wanna play this?” he muttered as he leaned into you, his harsh, uneven breath fanning your ear. “Just wanna do whatever you want?”

God, you were so fucking close. You could almost taste it, sense the mind-fuck that was about to crash—

You could have screamed the lights off when you felt him repel his fingers. 

Your mouth gaped open, legs shaking as it awaited your orgasm, only for the feeling to slowly fade, as if the boy had never even touched you. “Wh-what the…” Now, with your senses enlivening, you could deign to speak—or rather curse his existence. “What the fuck?!”

“Oh, so you can talk now?” He rubbed his fingers with his thumb, eyeing the wetness that glistened.

You would have glared at him if the sight of him playing with your arousal did not send a bonfire alight in your core. So you only watched him and the pads of his fingers, rasping out, “You can shut me up again…if that’s what you want.”

The way Seungcheol’s gaze burned could have had you collapsing to the floor. “Fuck,” he could only say to that, his hands upon your sides again. They played at the hem of your shirt, tugging it upwards. “You shouldn’t say things like that to me.”

“Why?” you asked him, barely a whisper, slowly raising your hands.

When he began to pull your shirt upwards, you let him take it off, sending it on the floor. The matching bra, laced to perfection, had him almost speechless. His hands found solace at your sides, just underneath the strap. “Because I won’t be able to stop myself.”

Instinctively your tongue slid along your bottom lip, feeling the slight swell, courtesy of his truly. “Did I…did I tell you to stop?”

He parted his mouth. 

Oh, he was going to ruin you tonight. 

If you had any clinging ideas of his angelic qualities, they were completely snuffed out from this point onwards. 

He kissed you with a bone-crushing intensity, hands trailing down your thighs as he lifted you up. He did not give you a moment of surprise, drowning out your yelps with the harsh movements of his lips as he led you to the bedroom, a journey he had memorised with his eyes closed. 

He kicked his boots off as he laid you down on the bed, you watching as he took his shirt off, his silver chain resting along his collarbone. You were shameless as you admired his physique, muscles rippling off his tight abdomen, trailing down to the real treasure, cut off from the band of his white jeans. His silver hair glittered in the lamplight of his room, you not caring about the details when the boy who inhabited it had his eyes on you.

His stare had goosebumps rippling all over your skin. When he noticed, a smirk rose upon his dark, cherry mouth. That smirk remained as, with his stare pinned on you, he unbuttoned his trousers, peeling it off his legs, and the thighs that were exposed could have struck you dumb. You had half a mind to merely focus on them alone, but when your gaze short-circuited on his Calvins, the package that welcomed you had your mouth watering.

Your blatant staring had a low chuckle brushing from his lips. “Done checking me out?” he teased, stepping closer as he entered the bed, climbing atop you. His chain dangled just above you, his fingers finding their familiar dwelling along your hips. “Looking at my cock would be enough, wouldn’t it?”

You decided to be brave. “Not anymore,” you said, your hand reaching the waistband of his underwear. “I need…need your cock inside me.”

“God,” he voiced out, finger hooking upon the straps of your panties. “Such a pretty face, but such a dirty mouth.” He brought the strap down, you then easing them off. The sight of your cunt in front of him had his eyes going heavy-lidded. “And such a…fuck.”

“Your turn,” you murmured, tugging down at his boxers. His cock sprang free in result, and your eyes nearly bugged out of your sockets. 

His laugh was a seductive melody in your ears. “Don’t hate me later when I turn cocky.”

“Let’s see if you know how to use it,” you bit back, hips aching to lift themselves up.

The carnal look on his face could have made you cum right there and then. With ease he spread your legs apart, one hand on his cock as he directed the head between your folds. He was the biggest fucking asshole, teasing you as he carressed the edges of your cunt, panted breaths leaving you with every phantom touch.

“Hurry up,” you seethed out, aching to buck your hips upward had his other hand not pinned you down. 

“So needy for me, already?” he jeered, sliding his cock ever so slightly within you. The seam of your lips broke open at the sensation, barely in but already beginning to stretch you out. “What’re you gonna do when I’m fully inside you?”

“P-probably nothing,” you gasped out, needing to push him to the limit—a comment like this, and he was sure to pound you into the bed. 

You thanked the deity that made Seungcheol when his eyes darkened.

“Nothing, huh?”

With one last tease of his head, he decided to prove you wrong.

He slid his cock past your folds, and you had to dig your nails into his shoulders to not shatter beneath him. Fuck, he was so big, it should have been impossible for you to accept a challenge as substantial as he possessed. Thankfully, he was still languid in his journey, slowly easing it in to help you adjust. He seethed through his teeth at the semblance of your cunt, pulsating around him, delighting at the way your brows knitted together at the sensation.

Once he bottomed out in you, he looked at you, waiting for your approval to continue. 

You nodded, but decided to vocalise it. “I-I’m good,” you whispered, holding onto him. “Just…don’t stop, okay?”

The devilish quirk of his lips, silver hair curling over his beautiful features, had you unable to breathe.

“Great minds, sweetheart.”

With that, glancing at where he connected into you, he began to pull out. 

Although he was slow, languid, gentle in the beginning, the mere action of his cock sliding out brought unspeakable amounts of pleasure radiating off your skin. There were many you had spent nights with, who, even when they were finishing off within you, could not bring you even an atom of satisfaction. This boy before you, over you, with one simple action, had driven you to the barriers of your sanity. 

One more push, and you would be thrown into the abyss of madness. 

The ring on his pinky was warmer against your skin, skimming past your hips as his head welcomed back the edges of your cunt, Seungcheol razor-focused on his movements. With every glance towards you, though, he seemed to lose his sharp edge, jaw slacking at the way your whines tumbled off your tongue, unable to restrain them. To bring you to that state, where you could not even control yourself…

The man, too, indulged himself when he slipped his cock back into you again.

He was a little faster this time, but you could have praised him till eternity for the change of pace as you arched your back against him. His hands began to wander, fingers sliding beneath your arch to unclip your bra, tossing it to the floor. He hummed in ecstasy at the sight of your breasts, and he wasted no time pressing his lips against your nipple. The swirl of his tongue along the peak had you mewling, carding your hands through his silver locks, pulling every so slightly with every sloppy touch of his mouth.

Soon, though, he quickened his pace, feeling his heartbeat thrumming in his ears, his throat as he relished the sounds that came from your mouth, louder with his every thrust into you. God, he did not know what specifically it was about you, but never before had he tasted the lust that resided in the room, satisfied himself in the heightened moans that elicited from you.

He watched you, desire curling in his hands as they slithered up your chest, fingers resting on your neck. “So loud, now, huh?” he taunted, his chain rocking back and forth with his movements. “Said you were gonna do nothing…look at you now.”

You could have whined out your tears with his torment, but the blood pumping at your core exposed another tale entirely. You could only answer with your panting, louder the more pressure between your hips grew. 

“Not gonna…ah, answer me are you?” His fingers curled around your neck. “Just gonna pant at me?”

Because you were in the same situation before, when his hands were doing the work, you did not answer him, only offering him trembling breaths. When his fingers exerted a little pressure on you, you felt that very oxygen decrease, panting muting out to shivering, choked exhales. 

Watching you breathless beneath him had him nearly cumming inside of you. 

But because he was not that selfish, he only indulged in his fantasy for a couple of moments, dipping into the waters of his experiment—apparently, with the way you grinned lazily at him, it seemed a success.

A note for later. 

He replaced his hands with his mouth, pressing open-mouthed kisses upon your throat for penance as he slammed his cock into you once more. He devoured your moans with his tongue, opening your mouth completely because he could not have enough of your lips, could not indulge enough in rendering you at his mercy.

Tasting your blubbering, he could tell you were nearing your orgasm. “Close, now?” he murmured upon your mouth, and you nodded hurriedly against him, feeling your spit-slick lips graze up and down his own. He smiled.

“Good.”

This time, he was completely, carnally relentless.

His cock worked overtime, moving at lightning speed inside of you. His fingers brought in an earlier prospect, circling your clit, uncovered before him now, and the pleasure you received from so many ends had you relinquishing all sanity. Forget the edges of madness—you were engulfed in lust-stricken hysteria, encouraged by Seungcheol’s antics. 

You were in another world, drifting from normality, his every thrusting driving you further away from everything you were familiar with. You thought that maybe people could die from pleasure, and that it was not such a terrible way to go out, if it meant you could savour the sensation forever.

But of course, these joys never do last forever, even if the one who offered such ecstasy would have laboured forever for you. You, however, had your weaknesses, which came in the form of your blood pumping, so loud in your ears you thought they would explode. 

With one last circle of his fingers against your clit, and you were completely undone.

Your orgasm had you crying out, legs shaking uncontrollably as your walls pulsated around him, gripping onto him so hard you knew his shoulders would bruise. The apparent asshole was extremely gentle as he slowed his ministrations, his own restraint about to snap. With a violent curse he slipped out of you, spilling himself onto the sheets. Some of his release had landed on you, but he did not notice, collapsing beside your recovering figure. 

With the commotion the two of you created, the silence was deeply felt, the only sound now being the harsh breathing you both shared. You stared at the ceiling, a white darker than his hair, blinking back at the events that had occurred since you saw him.

You put your hand on your heart. It still beat a mile a minute.

You had to give it to yourself—that may have been the best fuck you ever had. 

Turning to face the boy who was responsible for it, he too, followed your actions, silver locks matted upon his forehead, sheen with sweat. 

As his heavy-lidded eyes rested on you, he offered a lazy smile—no, a languid smirk. 

As if he knew that he was the best you ever had.

You could have scoffed.

How you thought this boy was an angel was beyond you.

Because as the two of you stared each other down, uncovering one mystery after another, you knew that this was no guardian of the heavens.

No, because tonight, you had most likely slept with the devil.

[beybaldes]

when you know, you know

masterlist

Sejanus plinth x gn!reader

summary: In the time he’d so far spent in district twelve, nothing had warmed his heart like you.

warnings: no use of y/n, peacekeeper Sejanus I don’t really think that’s a warning tho, talk of a future together, kids?? but not said how the kids come to be, fluff galore!!

Sejanus turned onto his side, one hand propped underneath his head so he could look down at you while the other moved to cup your cheek. Now his face was all you could see, it blocking out the setting sun as he leaned over you. He once told you he used to have long, dark curls before he became a peacekeeper and it’s now more than ever you wish he still had them. Maybe he’d have them by next spring, if you were lucky.

Leaning even closer to you, Sejanus brushed his lips against yours in the briefest of kisses, something so short as to not satiate you. Before he could move too far away from you, you placed a hand on either side of his face, pulling him down to connect his lips to yours once more in something slow and easy. Something tender and soft that cured your yearning and had heat rising to your cheeks that wasn’t from the burning sun of late summer. Sejanus Plinth was gentle in every aspect of his being, it was one of the many things that made it so easy to fall in love with him. When he initially tried to pull away from the kiss, you chased after him, wrapping your arm across the wide expanse of his shoulders and pulling him back down to you, reconnecting your lips before he had the chance to stop you. One hand began to make its way into his hair while the other moved up and along his chest, fisting the white undershirt of his peacekeeper uniform tightly between your fingers as though he was going to disappear without your touch.

“Wait.” Another kiss. “Wait, seriously.” Another kiss, but this time Sejanus actually pulled himself away from you, moving his hand so that he pinched your chin between his fingers, his thumb coming to rest against your bottom lip, effectively stopping you from kissing him again. “Just, wait.” A laugh bubbles from Sejanus’s chest as he looks down at the frown that pulled on your lips. However, he doesn’t say anything, instead just looking at you, his eyes tracing over every single inch of your face, his smile getter wider and wider with every second more he spends like this.

In truth, he’d had something to say, but over the past month, Sejanus found that when he started to look at you he couldn’t tear his eyes away, wanting to memorise the placement of every single freckle and wrinkle that adorned your skin. Usually, when he found himself looking at you it was from across the hob, or at the least when you weren’t looking at him. But right now, with you laying still between his arms, you were looking right back at him, and he was absolutely entranced.

“When I was living in the Capitol, I never thought I’d ever have anything like this, anything like you.” His thumb ran along the curve of your smile lines then soothed down your jaw, where he pressed a brief kiss. “A part of me still can’t believe that this is the life I get to live.”

“This life? Here? In twelve?” You questioned, unsure how he could be so fond of the poorest of districts when he’d spent so many years in the luxury living of the Capitol. While you knew he’d spent the first 8 years of his life in district 2, it was one of the better off districts, nothing like the poverty and plainness of district 12.

Sejanus tilted his head in confusion, eyes slightly pointed as he took in your words. Of course he liked being in twelve, how could he not? Twelve had reminded him of home in district two, except… better. His thumb continued to sooth over your jaw as the fondest of smiles pulled at his lips. “You’re here, in twelve.” He mused, a far off look in his eyes as he dreamt of a future between the two of you: a wedding in late spring in the meadow by the creek, he’d invite his mother, see if she could pull some strings to get herself here, he’d move out of the barracks and in with you in the little house by the edge of the seam, he’d teach you how to bake all the foods he loved from district two, sooner or later he’d finish his service and maybe then you’d really settle down in twelve, or even two, maybe with a little baby to keep you both company. Sejanus could picture every single second of the next 30 years of his life and he couldn’t wait. “Why would I want to be anywhere else?”

“I love you.” You whispered, the hand you’d had in Sejanus’s hair moving down his face to cup his jaw, your thumb running across the apple of his cheek. Sejanus couldn’t remember the last time someone had told him that they loved him, and he was excited to hear it more often. Just in case though, he memorised the way it rolled off your tongue, the sound of each vowel and constant as it came from your lips. He could get used to this life to a dangerous degree. “I think you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen Sejanus Plinth. Both inside and out.”

Sejanus moved his gaze downwards, hoping that it’d hide the flush that rose to his face at your words. However, when the blush refused to cease, he took to burrowing his face in the crook of your neck, laying against you but doing his best not to put his full weight on you. He pressed a kiss against your collar bone and then neck as he settled himself in, revelling in the feeling of your skin against his. In the time he’d so far spent in district twelve, nothing had warmed his heart like you, not even the hot dreads of summer or the crammed bunk full of people, and he hoped nothing else ever would. He shuffled his face against your neck so he could press a kiss to its crest, just below your ear, a smile pulling on his lips at the way it made you squirm. “I love you too.”

an: thank you for reading!! <33

tag list: @celestialstar111

[ozarkthedog]

𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮

summary: you're self-conscious about your bush in the post outbreak world. joel shows you how much he loves it.

warnings: -> 18+ only | mdni <- Joel "pussy eating king" Miller x fem!Reader. body hair ftw! pussy eating galore. dirty talk. light spit kink. joel gets off on eating you out, literally. no beta.

word count: 1.1k

author’s note: i just know he would eat you alive. @ghotifishreads ty for brainstorming! 💙

☽ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ♁ 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ☾

You slam the bathroom drawer shut with a huff. You want to cry. Who’d of thought the simple task of finding scissors would be so difficult? Of all the houses you chose to take shelter in during the storm, you found yet another house that was without shears.

You contemplate cutting your bush with Joel’s knife while you walk into the adjoining bedroom and slowly take off your dirty clothing. Maybe it’ll work. You can imagine asking Joel for his knife and him asking you why. You laugh into your palms as you rub them over your face.   

You catch a glance at your nude body in a mirror mounted on the wall. Looking yourself over, you run your hands through the curls that cover your mound. It’s the longest it’s ever been. At times it was nice to not worry about having to shave but ever since you started things up with Joel you missed being able to trim your bush whenever you wanted.

Joel creaks up the stairs and you turn to face him as he leans in the doorway. “God damn, you’re beautiful.”

Embarrassment burns your cheeks. Despite your time together, you still weren’t used to his compliments.

He knows you’re on edge, he heard you searching for those damn scissors like you always did. He cautiously walks into the room and wraps his arms around your naked frame. His soft gaze meets yours in the mirror. 

“Come ’ere, Sweetheart.” Joel walks backward with you in his arms until his legs hit the bed. He shifts to the side and helps you lay down on the sheets. 

You prop yourself up, digging your elbows into the bed as he slowly kneels between your parted legs. “Joel, it’s ok. You don’t have to.” Your eyes lock on his chest with unease.

His chest rumbles with a deep growl. “Why would you ever think I wouldn’t want to taste you?”

Your wary eyes flick up to his somber ones. Heat swirls and pools in your abdomen. 

Joel pries your legs apart and admires your natural form. The hair on your mound is lush, spreading to the crooks of your inner thighs and down your legs. He slides his hands up your thighs feeling the wiry strands under his palms and the softness of your skin. “I love every part of you. Every inch.”

He lays his head on your right thigh and runs his fingers through your bush. His nose burrows softly into your curls. Your pheromones seep into his brain. A gust of hot air rushes over your mound as he groans. “You smell so fuckin’ good.” 

He combs his fingers through the bristles before giving a slight tug that forces your heart into your throat. “You got a thick fuckin’ pussy.” He teethes your mons, gnawing gently on the flesh that lays hidden; marking you. “I’d eat this sweet cunt all day long.” 

He licks his lips, looking parched, like he hasn’t had a drink in days. 

Suddenly, his tongue dives into your folds and catches you off guard. Your arms give out forcing you back down on the bed with a gasp. He lathes his tongue up and down your folds and circles your clit with tight swirls taking his time to taste every inch of you. 

Your legs wrap around his head as waves of mind numbing bliss drown your senses. His lips wrap around your clit with a grunt and create a spine bending suction on the tiny nub forcing you to writhe against his face. His arms wrap solidly around your thighs keeping you open and compliant while you chase your pleasure. 

Joel stops his assault and sits back on his heels, you meet his fiery stare with perplextion. He holds your gaze as he licks his cream coated lips and picks a wiry hair from his tongue before flicking it away. His mustache and beard are soaked with your shiny arousal. 

It makes your cunt throb.  

“I love eatin’ this sweet cunt. Drinkin’ you down.” He mumbles into your weeping heat like a man gone mad. He fists his cock out from his jeans, giving it a squeeze at the base, trying to keep himself from cumming in his jeans.

Blinding aftershocks sizzle your nerves. You push into the mattress, desperate for a break, and edge away from his mouth with a gasp. 

He tuts. “Where you goin’ sweet girl? I’m not done yet.”

Strong arms circle your thighs and drag you easily down the sheets back to his wicked mouth. Your fingers dig into his hair as his mouth covers your dripping core with a grunt. He pushes between your folds, tasting the deepest part of you, and glides his tongue along your velvet walls.

The room spins when he pulls away again and you reach for him with a whine. 

Thick fingers pull apart your outer lips, exposing your milky, dripping center to the feral man. Your cunt convulses under his ominous stare. “I’ll let you know when I’ve had my fill.” 

A wad of spit hits your vulnerable cunt, landing directly on your clit.  

A gasp tears from your lips as the fluid drips down your slippery seam and combines with your cream. He lazily drags two fingers through the spittle before curling and pressing them inside your drenched heat.

“Shit- that’s a fuckin’ tight cunt.” He swipes a heavy tongue over your clit. “Sucha’ pretty, hairy pussy.”

You mewl and writhe on the bed as it rocks back and forth. The older man frantically grinds his cock against the soft bedding while he eats you out. So strung out on the taste of you and chasing his own high.

Cavernous groans vibrate your core adding to the blissful friction of his wicked tongue and girthy, determined fingers. Joel lewdly spits on your clit again and curls his digits, watching with a smirk as you convulse. “Thatta girl. Shit- Come on my fingers.”

The knot in your belly grows tighter and tighter with every powerful thrust until a haze of white explodes behind your eyes. Your body spasms around his fingers with a secure lock making his rhythm waver as your mouth parts in a silent scream. 

Cream spills between your folds and trickles down his wrist as he spills ropes of white onto the sheets with a hoarse, ab twitching grunt. Your cunt flutters around his stilled fingers as the two of you slowly come back to one another.

He eases his fingers from your core, watching your opening clench and quiver from the emptiness as he licks your cum from his skin. “Still think I have an issue with your bush?” 

“Stop, you’re killing me.” You whine, covering your eyes from the sinful view of his tongue lapping up your cream. 

“Oh, my sweet girl, I’ve only just begun.” He croons as he climbs onto the bed and smothers you with a ferocious, cum stained kiss.

💌 send me mail - drabble requests: OPEN

[astarionenjoyer69420]

reader x astarion - "i want an heir"

hi! this is my first fanfiction ever!

summary: ascended astarion has some...desires that only you can provide for him.

warnings: dubcon/noncon, smut, breeding kink, cnc, bondage

(not my gif)

You were his. Forever. Aetherna amantis, he had claimed. Lovers forever. It almost sounded too good to be true. 

You should have known it was too good to be true. 

Being one of Astarion’s spawn, albeit the prized one, was not all it was cracked up to be. Sure, you had a certain degree of protection. And yes, you got to live in this fancy mansion, existing by your lover’s side both day and night. And the bite marks he had gifted you on your neck; well, they were just more reminders that you were his, entirely his, and no one could take you away from him. 

But Astarion had been ascended for a few months now. You had gone from being his only one, his only prized spawn, as he had promised you, to brothers and sisters galore, traipsing up and down the halls of the palace he promised was solely for the two of you. As much as you wanted to complain, you knew your now master would never hear of it. And he would get in one of his moods.  

And when Astarion got in one of his moods…you knew trouble was headed your way. 

And that’s how you came to be completely helpless, arms bound to posts of his velvety bed, stark naked with the nip of chilled air the only thing covering your body, rag shoved in your mouth so you couldn’t even talk to yourself, couldn’t even make any noises besides mere vocalizations. 

At least you still got some individual attention compared to the other spawn. 

He had tied you up…crap, how long could it have been? Hours ago now, most certainly, or maybe that was just you getting in your own head. “Be good, darling,” he had purred, tugging your restraints so hard they dug into your flesh, after he had physically picked you up and forced you onto his bed. “I’ll be back when I’m done for the day.” But he had not said exactly when, and there were no clocks in this ancient room. So you had sat, tears welling in your eyes at the utter humiliation of it all, for what felt like an eternity. And the bastard knew you couldn’t fall asleep, either. 

But there was something else. The longer you waited, the longer the pool of warmth grew between your legs, aching with anticipation for what would come next. Your thighs smushed together, desperate to indulge in any sort of stimulation, imagination running wild as to what your master had planned for you. He had never…done this before. Forced you to submit to him. You were always a good girl. But defying, you realized, had its advantages. And with every bit you wiggled and the leather dug into your wrists, the more slick you felt fountaining from between your legs. 

Low noises from the hall…footsteps. Quick, light footsteps. Your heart thrummed at a breakneck pace in your chest. You would know that stride anywhere. He was back. Your cheeks grew hot, remembering how completely exposed you were, stripped of any choice in him seeing you entirely nude. And you were starting to begrudge that fire in your belly that picked up when you thought about your forced indecency. 

Your lover’s footsteps grew nearer, then stopped as you discerned the sounds of a key turning in a lock. You were practically vibrating with adrenaline when he stepped in the room, swiftly sealing his door behind him, red eyes shifting to your helpless form on his bed.

You couldn’t help it; in the face of such perfection you felt almost dizzy. Power radiated through him, jagged and dark and untamable. Under his cloak, bulging muscles tugged at the fabric, and his white curls boasted perfection, as always. You were so overcome with lust you could barely speak…even if you hadn’t had a gag in your mouth. He was always the most beautiful creature you had ever laid eyes on, but the commanding swagger he exuded after he became master to you and the other spawn was, admittedly, a great look for him. 

He approached your body, wisps of a smirk tugging at his perfectly plump lips. “Darling. Tsk. Look at you, still here where I put you all those hours ago.” His smirk widened, becoming overt. “Not that you had much of a choice…I mean, look at you.”

“Mmph,” you tried to respond, your inaudible reply sending a flood of humiliation to your head, and you became aware of a soft thrumming in your nether regions. God, you had no idea you were so into this, being completely and utterly helpless and so degraded, but you supposed you were just along for the ride at this point. 

A pause. Thirsty eyes gazed into yours, never breaking eye contact as his overclothes were shed, and you tried (in vain) not to ogle his perfectly defined body; he had to be handcrafted by the gods themselves. You were grateful for even this tiny moment to soak him in; he was so busy nowadays.

“Darling, I have a proposition for you.” 

Your eyes darted to his face, which had abruptly transformed into something more serious, more pensive. You really hoped this proposition had something to do with his mouth and a few choice body parts, although it had been mostly you servicing him like that since the ascension. “Mmph?”

He stepped closer to the bed, and he was so close you could almost (metaphorically) taste him; every inch of his flesh was perfect, and you longed to be able to touch him, to reach out and trail your fingers down his abs, caressing his marble figure, lowering your hand down to his happy trail and lower…lower…

He inhaled sharply, taking time to fully release his breath from his lungs. “Darling, it can’t be any surprise you’re my favorite of the bunch of these…creatures. You know, we genuinely had something before…all of this. It was cute, yes, cute, the way you stared at me, the flawed…thing I was before I became unstoppable. Unkillable.”

Okay, not off to the best start by calling you and the rest of the spawn creatures, but you would take it for now. Especially because he was really hot. Like, really hot. And missing him all day helped matters as well.

“And so, now to my point. I have been…thinking recently. About the future. About expanding my network, so to speak.” His brow crinkled, and he began to pace, back and forth by the foot of the bed. “And how, since you’re usually so terribly obedient, how I could honor you in some way, perhaps by making you a part of that future.”

He stopped pacing, averting his gaze to rest on you, his eye contact almost too intense to bear. “After today, I realized you couldn’t be trusted anymore to serve me. Struggling, resisting your master simply will not do. Which is why this is going to happen now, regardless of any of those pesky opinions you might have about it.” He spat the word opinions out like it was poison on his tongue, and unfortunately the growl in his voice made the heartbeat between your thighs thrum more intensely.

“I want an heir. And you’re going to carry him for me.”

Silence. Your pulse skyrocketed, feeling like a hummingbird in your chest, but your brain had not been able to process his words yet. An heir? As in, like, a child? A…pregnancy? No, no, that wasn’t possible between two vampires. Unless… “Mmph…”

“I know, darling, aren’t you just so thrilled to hear the news,” he cooed, reaching out, cool fingers cascading slowly down your cheek, every nerve in your body alight at the simple touch. “It can happen, you know. Between vampire and spawn.”

And he was by your ear, you flashing back to nights in camp right before he would bite down on you, excitement zinging through your body like a rogue boomerang. His whisper surrounded you, tickled your neck, had you crying between your thighs. “And you would look just so pretty all swollen with my child. Body completely belonging to me. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Logistically, you were panicking. Even if what he was saying was true, who knew if it was, that he could…get you pregnant in the first place, you had never been the maternal type. Your life as an adventurer had prohibited any thought of parenthood to ever cross your mind, and you figured you had officially forfeited that path once your heart had shuddered to a stop after your master’s ascension.

Logistically, sure, yes, bad idea. But an ever-growing part of you; one bellowing as it invaded you, sent waves of bliss through your body, moistened your inner thighs; wanted this. Wanted it bad, wanted it more than anything. You would be his, all his, a display of submission so great it physically took hold of you. None of the other spawn would have that privilege. And moment by moment, this was all looking more and more alluring. “Mmph…”

You felt yourself flush again as the vampire hopped into the bed, positioning himself so he was completely on top of you, using his two arms to balance himself, making you look at him directly in his glowing, almost ravenous eyes. Up close, it was even more unfair that he oozed perfection; unmarked skin, smelling of bergamot, rosemary and fine brandy, so tantalizing it made your head spin. Though you wanted to resist, wanted to protest, wanted to try and kick him off of you, Astarion was using the full extent of his vampiric charisma on you.

You couldn’t do anything but stare as he lowered himself to your neck, brushing gently against your collarbone at first, an involuntary moan escaping from your lips, only slightly resenting yourself for how much you would inevitably show you enjoyed this a little too much. With a low chuckle, he nipped lightly at your neck, not yet drawing blood, pain intermingling with pleasure as you knew he was marking you. He loved to do this, especially when he was in one of his moods, teasing you and working you up until you were begging him to give you pain, give you anything.

“Mmm…” you murmured as his teeth scraped your flesh, puncturing you, penetrating you, all over, as if your entire neck was his to maim. Your neck was throbbing, no doubt blooming now with marks all over, and you loved every second of it. You wanted the other spawn to know you were his, that you had the honor of being marked by him. 

Your hips bucked into him, once again desperate for any kind of touch, even just one lone finger. Your wrists yanked at the restraints as your body made itself known, shame of being completely nude gone, just wanting some release. 

Astarion pulled back, breathing hard, something gleaming in his eye. It wasn’t hunger, but it was close. Hunger for…something else. Something more than blood could give him. “Wear your hair back tomorrow,” he growled. “I want everyone to see what you let me do to you.” 

You nodded meekly, pulsing between your legs nearly painful, being fairly certain you had soaked the sheets. Although you knew you might be punished for it, you continued to try and grind on your master, though the angle wasn’t quite right. And he knew damn well what he was preventing you from doing, splayed completely on top of you, deadening any hope of movement in your legs for the time being. 

Astarion grinned. “I love it when you’re so good for me. See, it isn’t that hard, now is it?”

You shook your head, widening his smile, being only able to watch as he grabbed your breast, massaging it slowly with his hands, earning another choked moan from you as he pinched your nipple hard between two of his slender fingers. “Maybe if you were a bit more obedient this morning, you would get something of a choice in this matter.” 

His other hand made its way to your other breast, squeezing tightly. “But now…cute little sluts that like getting tied up need to get taught a lesson.” Your body was on fire, the shape of his large erection now prominently pressing on your thighs, and you dripped with want- no, need. “You want to get knocked up by me so badly, hm? You fought against me so hard this morning, but you want me to own your body for nine whole months more than anything, is that right?”

Any logical thoughts you harbored had sailed away long ago. “Mmm…” you replied in affirmation, drunk on him, his scent, his scarlet eyes, the low intonation of his voice, the way you were helpless, you had no defense, he could fuck a baby inside of you with no resistance. 

“Good girl,” he replied, and to your humiliation his hand trailed downward, dancing on your skin ever so slightly, goosebumps raising on your arm as he made his way between your legs, nearly casually dragging his index finger up the side of your folds. You gasped, the stimulation almost too much to bear, the bed quaking as your whole body seized with pleasure.

“Tsk, tsk,” he intoned, drawing his hand away as quickly as it had come, your clit thrumming with disappointment. “You have such a pretty little pussy, positively, delightfully soaked by me.” A low growl. A pause. Then: “Too bad I’m going to fucking ruin you for anyone else.” 

Before you could think, before you could react, his hand was back on you, aggrandizing slow circles being drawn around your clit, your heartbeat so loud you could barely hear his whispering. “Have to prepare you to be bred, darling. Have to give you so much pleasure your body knows me, and only me.”

Your legs shook, warm, radiant pulses emanating through every limb in your body, every neuron welcoming his touch, his filthy words, your complete and utter submission. You were already close- fuck, how were you already close? You pressed your pussy against him, trying to ride this high, to feel his beautiful hands while they were there. You began to tremble.

As if he could read your mind, his pace quickened, stroking you with renewed firmness, pressing down on your clit directly with his thumb, making you see stars. “Greedy,” he chided, his reproach only making you want him more, climbing higher and higher toward your release, flames licking at your core. “How does it feel to be defenseless? Totally at my mercy? Subject to the whims of your master, totally and utterly mine?”

You practically yelled as your body prepared you to cum, muscles tensing, his velvet voice so close to tipping you over the edge.

Then, he stopped.

Stopped point-blank, withdrawing his hands, sitting up, your body humming with broken promises, with betrayal. With wide eyes, you stared at his godly figure, silently beseeching him for an answer, for him to keep touching you, for…anything. You were a sopping mess, a puddle, your clitoris swollen with need. Tears sprung forward, much to your embarrassment. This wasn’t fair. You needed him.

You had apparently become upset presumptuously, because your lover had taken you to the edge and then ceased because he wanted to give you the proper treatment. This became obvious as the clothes on the lower half of his body were shed, you unabashedly reveling in the show, a huge, thick pale cock springing forward from his pants as they crumpled to the floor.

You always wondered how you could take him. Conservatively, he must have been eight inches, and you could barely wrap a hand around his girth. It had taken your breath away the first time you had seen it, one of your sweeter sexual meetups, a drunken encounter after a party, what seemed like ages ago now. It was sweet, him taking the lead, servicing you over and over again being the main event, him whimpering with carnal lust every time you so much as brushed against his length. But sweetness had been gone from your bedroom for a while now. Not that you minded so much. This…was also nice. Your mouth began to salivate staring at his perfect cock, wanting in equal measure for him to be inside of you and to taste him. 

Unfortunately, your master knew you too well, unabashed smarminess plain as day across his face after catching you ogling. He threw his head back to laugh; something you had never heard addressed to you before a few months ago, sadistic and mocking. “My little pet is so terribly desperate for this cock, isn’t that right, darling?” As you moaned your confirmation, he pushed your legs apart, the chill of the castle room whispering on your wet pussy, him smiling as he did so. In fact, he almost looked positively giddy to have you here, with no one to aid you. “Be a good little fuckdoll and take it, hm?”

You weren’t thinking about logistics anymore. You weren’t thinking about whether what he wanted was possible in the first place. All you knew, all you could register, all you could feel, was your body being folded in half, your legs nearly touching your shoulders, and your lover’s strikingly beautiful form above you, like a siren, like original sin himself. 

“Let’s cut the pretense, darling,” he purred, and you could feel him line himself up with your core, your body reading yourself for him, the tip of his cock dancing among your slick folds, your body writhing and spasming with need. “I’m not going to be gentle, nor must I be to give you my most precious gift, my son. You’re going to be stuffed full of my seed by the time I’m done with you, and you’re going to absolutely adore it. Understood?”

Astarion thrust forward, snapping into you, giving you no time to respond, no time to  adjust to his length. A cry escaped your lips, muffled by your makeshift gag; it felt like you were being torn in two, your pussy burning with the stretch of his width inside you, hitting your cervix, the pinch making your recoil. He began ravaging you, hips snapping back and forth, tears now streaming down your face and onto the silk pillows. He had never fucked you this brutally before, pain quickly ebbing into ecstasy as you clenched around his girth, so perfectly full of him.

Your master groaned, low and deep in his throat, eyes fluttering closed. His tough facade was crumbling, desire unmasked at last. “Always…always so fucking tight for me,” he panted, grabbing your chin, ruby eyes captivating yours as he pummeled you. He was a sight to behold, mouth ajar as he drew in breath, fangs glistening in the candlelight, smoldering gaze on your face. “G-gods above.”

The sound of your lover pumping inside of you permeated the stone room as if it were a heartbeat. Your mind spun, unable to focus on anything but the sensation of his cock impaling you, whimpering as he shifted his angle oh-so-slightly and hit your most sensitive spot. He knew how bad you wanted to be put in your place, the way his length dripped with your moisture revealing it, no perception checks necessary. 

“That’s right, darling,” Astarion cooed, recovered from the dominant edge slipping during his entrance, hips bucking faster within you, hammering your sweet spot. Dark spots danced at the edges of your vision. “Tell me, who’s my good little slut?”

Moaning through your gag, your walls eagerly clenched hard around him, feeling as if you were floating through the small pinches in your cervix as he thrust. It was you, you knew it was you, he knew it was you. You were his, mind, body, and soul. You couldn’t put any coherent thoughts together, and all you knew is that you wanted him as deep as he could go. 

He took you like that for a while, until you could feel your release approaching once again, the rhythm of Astarion inside of you so intense now you could barely breathe. Your fingernails dug into his back, earning a sharp hiss from the vampire, who in turn finally tore his eyes away from you to sink his fangs into your neck. Gasping at the sudden ache blossoming through your throat, you lost control. A wave of bliss tumbled through your body as you screamed, your orgasm ripping through you like a trail of fire. Astarion fucked you through it, every thrust to your overstimulated core making you see stars as you felt your blood slip further through his porcelain lips. 

As your climax receded, your vampire drew back, mouth and chin smeared bright crimson. You recalled the first time you had let him feed on you, the night you found out he was a vampire; he was careful, and he knew not to take so much. His face was softer then, a blush of gratitude touching his dialogue. Memories of that first night seemed so far now as you examined the beast before you, all sharp angles and lust.

“Well, isn’t this just perfect,” he sighed. “Thank god you’re so enamored with me. Conceiving is so much easier this way.”

And he began again, thrusting even harder than before. 

You could barely take it, the sensation of his cock burrowing even deeper inside of you, and you became conscious of embarrassingly inhuman noises you were eking out. Astarion gripped your chin, forcing eye contact as he continued to ravage you, minute beads of sweat trailing down his ivory face. Fingers dug into your face as you gazed into the vampire’s eyes, their shade of scarlet deeper than ever, unable to think about anything but his steely regard, futilely attempting to choke out his name. Smirking at your failed attempt, of course he was. He always made you feel so good, and unfortunately, he knew it. 

“Fantastic,” he cooed. “That’s my good fucking girl. You like this, don’t you? To be nothing but a toy for me. To be completely and totally vulnerable…” He hammered into you harder, your entire body nothing but a vessel centered around him, your sex practically chanting his name. His words sent pure shock to your core; resistance was futile and the new gush of wetness between your thighs proved it. Liking it was certainly inside the realm of possibility. Adoring it was far more likely. 

The bed groaned beneath your entangled forms, and your lover leaned in toward you, teeth grazing the top of your ear. “I’m close, my sweet.” And you felt yourself clenching around him much more, body thrumming with the promise of your shared release. 

With a grunt, Astarion dropped his face to ensnare you in a kiss as his warmth flooded into you, thrusting sporadically as he filled you to the brim. “Fuck,” he breathed as he forced himself deeper into you, taking care that none of his seed leaked from your eager hole. “Good girl, take all of it.” 

He grabbed your thighs, forcing your bottom half upwards, cum dripping further down into you, the angle change hammering you right in your most sensitive spot. You cried out as your release hit you like a freight train, muscles melting and becoming liquid, Astarion’s slow deep thrusts prolonging your nirvana. Ripples of adrenaline rushed through you as you felt his release pool in you, knowing undoubtedly that his rough breeding had worked. He decreased his speed until he was at a stop, your legs feeling awfully similar to jelly, as you basked in a combination of afterglow and shock at what had transpired. 

You stayed interlocked and still for a few minutes, your master’s breathing even and heavy, explaining in a whisper that he had to make sure the process was successful. You felt each beat of your heart in your chest, and if you had the privilege of language at the moment, you would have reassured him that your body was most certainly going to house his child. Eventually, he unsheathed himself, letting your hips back down to the four-poster bed, and you watched his statuesque form stand and begin to clean himself. After he had finished, with a smirk he made his way over to you and gently wiped your thighs of his release. 

You could do nothing but watch as he began to dress himself back into the armor he had previously worn, silently wondering if you were going to be let free.

Astarion didn’t even turn around as he spoke to you. “My pet, I think it only fair you remain in this bedroom for as long as it takes to successfully knock you up. I want you nice and helpless against me until I know for certain you’re too dependent on me to go anywhere. Shall we repeat this process…I don’t know…twice a day?”

Twice a day. For as long as it took until he could tell you were pregnant. Verbalizations strained against your gag, but you were completely ignored as Astarion walked out of the room, sealing and locking the door shut behind him.

Pregnancy symptoms could take a hell of a long time to show up. And maybe, even when they did…you could conceal them for a while. 

If it meant being used like this again, you would have done nearly anything. 

[bucknastysbabe]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: King Aegon II x Queen!Reader x Aemond

Tags: Threesome, King!Aegon, issues galore, pillow princess big BABY Aegon, Aemond hanging dong, poorly concealed jealousy of being a second son, face sitting, f/m/m, anal sex, humiliation kink, feminization, Aegon’s like pre-chubby, spanking, switch Aeg, wee bit of Angst at the end

Aegon writhed atop silken sheets, amongst other fineries imported to the Keep from Lys to Qaarth. His pretty face was flushed, crown askew, big violet eyes glassy. Drunken to an extent, not enough to deny a good thorough fucking. You teasingly snatched the crown, placing it upon Aemond’s silky strands. He eyed you quizzically, Aegon slurring underneath, “Realll fuh’kin funny.”

Aemond slapped one of Aegon’s soft thighs, big hand leaving a pretty blooming mark. He sneered, “Even your lady wife thinks I look better in it.” The spare’s cock bobbed as he shifted between feminine thighs, blessed was he by the Father for that monstrosity of a cock. The ‘king’ whined petulantly, casting his orbs towards you, long lashes clumped and wet.

“He does make an imposing figure with the crown my love,” you shrugged.

Aegon’s plump lips pulled back into a snarl, hand coming up to slap Aemond— alas, too drunken and slow was he. You raised a brow, growing more excited, squeezing your thighs together to dull the ache. The younger brother laughed meanly, pinning Aegon’s weaker arms above his head, long fingers wrapping skinny wrists up tight.

Aem bitterly sniffed, “Been easier if you were a girl, although your arse is tight as a cunt and you’ve been,” he smirked toward you, “filling out nicely.” Aegon whimpered at that, shame making the softling struggle as his brother lapped at a puffy nipple. Violet eyes begged for you, frantic uttering slipping through wine-stained lips, “Wha-ah-at is he talking about? Gods!”

Aegon’s back arched when the lanky man between his legs rubbed their cocks together in a hot drag. You crawled closer, carding gentle hands through your husband’s tousled hair. Pecking his panting pout you murmured with a squeeze to his soft hip, “Filling out like a proper lady he means, might need to borrow my corset dear, don’t want to appear slovenly.”

Fresh pretty tears leaked from his orbs, Aemond grabbing a handful of the pudge on his still small waist. He nipped at his brother’s neck, murmuring in a low rasp, “Glutton. Better curb it before you break a belt.” Aegon cried out sharply, spreading his legs, arching his back like the little whore he was.

“There’s my sweet slut,” you cooed, passing Aemond the phial of oil. He thanked you before asking, “You want to open him up or me?” Reclining backward to lay next to your husband you purred, “No, no, go ahead, want to see him cry some more before I have my fun.” Aemond dutifully nodded, slapping the back of Aegon’s thighs to get them higher up.

Aegon stared at you, lips trembling, head fuzzy with drink and arousal. Petting his hair again you pressed a saccharine kiss to his sweaty forehead, stroking back errant curls. The slick sounds of Aemond slathering oil on Aegon’s hole had the king gasp and mewl your name.

“Oh hush, you’re such a whiny babe, when has brother dearest not taken care of you? Spoilt thing.”

He moaned softly, lashes fluttering as Aemond’s long fingers circled his hole. You stroked Aegon's sensitive neck and chest, pulling at a rosy nipple to distract from any discomfort. It had been a while since anyone had time for simple pleasures such as these, especially for the younger brother.

Aegon’s back arching again notified you that Aemond had breached him. You raised a brow at the other, eyes glancing at his use of two fingers off the get. He dismissed the concern with a scoff, “Seems fine to me.” He wasn’t wrong, your husband’s pretty cock was leaking over his milky white stomach.

Aemond lazily stretched out his elder until Aegon was begging, “Aem, Aem, come onnnn, pleaseeee!” His curls were matted down with sweat, sweet thighs trembling with need. You kissed his blubbering lips, casting a glare on the crowned blonde. The game’s up, goodbrother.

Aemond huffed in amusement, pulling his fingers out to wipe on the rumpled bed. He hissed in pleasure slathering up that purpling swollen cock. Aegon whined his brother’s name again, clumsily fumbling to shove a pillow under his ass, spreading wider.

“Seven hells sweetheart,” you swore, cunt clenching again. Your own skin was hot and beginning to bead with sweat— the heat of the room and delicious spread before you was stifling.

Aemond grunted a bit as he got into a good position, planting his knees and guiding his cock towards Aeg’s greedy hole. You coddled your husband as his violet eyes bulged and rolled, the blunt tip of his little brother’s cock forcing its way in.

Aemond’s hair flopped forward in a shiny curtain, hunching a bit as he eased himself with little hitches of breath, moaning softly when his trim hips met the fatty flesh of Aegon’s backside and upper thighs. Aemond’s head fell back some, a sharp grin twisting his features. He breathed, “Ah brother, somehow you stay like a glove. Tight cunt for a whore.”

You plastered yourself to your drooling husband, his chest heaving, slurring, “s’full.” You smiled and swiped a thumb across his wet lips, “Mhm, goodbrother does a good job filling your slutty ass up. Fucking all those little thoughts out of your head.”

“If there is any, goodsister.”

“Are you going to fuck him or be an ass?”

Aemond snorted and pulled back to thrust sharply into Aegon, punching a lurid cry out of his puffy lips. The younger didn’t waste any time, roughly fucking Aegon, biting his slim lips, one eye closed in pleasure. Your husband was a wreck per usual, his brother’s cock split the poor thing wide open�� no escape from the drag across that sensitive little gland in his ass.

Aemond snarled, “Taking me well, doesn’t it just look splendid, what a real king looks like- ah- taking what’s his. A bratty sister-wife.”

Aegon blubbered a weak reply, seeking the comfort of your body, lips suckling at your lips and neck sloppily. You playfully flattened your hand over his bouncing cock, rubbing it gently.

“Ohh- oh fuck- mmm s’good s’good,” he babbled deliriously, blinking more tears down his ruby splotched cheeks. He was shaking, pitch too high, signs of an early orgasm. You couldn’t have that. You’d gotten enough of an eyeful, getting onto your haunches.

“Aegon, don’t you dare yet,” you chided, smacking his cock roughly. Aemond laughed as your husband howled and squirmed in pain. He had to be held tight by Aem’s hands. Grabbing Aegon’s full cheeks you asked, sweeter now, “Think you can eat my cunt? Got enough brains in your slutty head for that?”

He nodded with a soft noise, hands fisting the covers relocated to your hips. You straddled his gorgeous face, now eye to eye with Aemond’s smug look. Aegon grasped your plump thighs and began to lap eagerly, moaning in delight. You shuddered, placing hands on Aegon’s fleshy hips.

Aegon was good in the sack, regardless of these nights where the now-king got wrecked. He knew your cunt quite well. Currently, he took his time digging a fat tongue into your hole, slurping up essence. You fell forward a bit with a moan, eyes still plastered upon Aemond’s regal look.

Aem rumbled, “Hm, aren’t you a treat, my queen.” The tall blonde leaned forward to capture your waiting lips, lapping upwards and nipping a swollen top lip. Aegon chose the idea to whine into your pussy, delicious vibrations arching your back, pushing budded tits forward.

Aemond swallowed up your noise, passionately sharing himself and kin with you. One of his lengthy calloused hands cupped your tit, rough thumb swiping across nerves. Aegon thrust up to no avail when you squeezed around his face, body assaulted by your clit and sensitive nipples being played with. You mewled, “Gods, Aemond, Aegon, ah!”

Your husband was digging his fingers into your ample thighs, moaning and yelling, barely muffled at this point. You were helplessly shying away, the pleasure reaching a point of near-pain. At the same time, Aegon pulled you down and Aemond pushed you flush to his brother’s face.

Aemond growled, “Wanna see you come undone on the little whore’s face, keep that ass down.”

You nodded with a whine, hands trembling, reaching, pulling the younger further for more kisses as Aegon suckled roughly, sending a gush of slickness on his face. You wailed, Aemond humming, “Ah, there we go, darling queen. Back to our whore now?” The whore in question was fit to blow, his prick veined and throbbing, balls tight. He made a confused sound as you began to lift up.

In a dazed movement, you fell off Aegon’s wet mouth, gathering wits, eyes tiredly watching Aemond bend the true king in half, smacking a pert ass. He nuzzled at Aegon’s sweat lined throat, lapping and biting without shame. You rolled onto your belly blearily, hand snaking to the elder’s cock, thumbing the tip in rough circles.

Aegon shivered from head to toe, fully sobbing now. Aemond pressed the sniffling king, “Say it, say it dear, who wears the crown?” It was about three more punishing smacks before Aegon moaned loud and long, emptying all over your hand and his creased belly. He cried harder now, sniveling for his wife.

Aemond grunted, groaned softly under his breath, murmuring nonsense as he unloaded into his brother’s ass. The younger took off the crown and gently placed it aside, sitting back on his haunches, panting. Aegon had already enveloped your form like a blanket, sniffling into your tits.

You stroked his hair and smiled gently, cooing. Looking up at Aemond you asked, “Sticking around? I can braid your hair up if you’d like?”

He was already tying it halfway up, eye-patch secured quickly. Aemond shook his head and stated, “A kind gesture, I’ll be taking my leave.” You frowned a bit, absently petting Aeg’s curls. Aemond’s remaining eye glanced at the dozing Aegon, mouth twisting ever-so-slightly.

“I’ll be fine my queen, get some rest, see you in the morn.”

You knew him well enough to not say another word as the spare got dressed and exited, door closing quietly. Thumbing at Aegon’s cheeks, you hoped Aemond would stick around some time. Both of you loved him dearly.

[callsign-relic]

This idea has been my brainrot for months! If you've ever been on reddit, or tiktok lately you might have seen a funny subreddit titled "humans are space orcs". Well I fell inlove with that headcannon, so I wanted to put in the request for poly ratchet and drift with a human reader, reader had stowawayed on the lostlight and was lucky enough that the ship was being supplied oxygen, with occasional stops giving the chance for reader to go out and grab some supplies.

Long story short reader ends up getting caught in the medbay, battered and bruised, and gets stuck in a staring contest with ratchet, who is bewildered.

(I also find the comparison of cybertronians being possible scared of humans, like a elephant is of mice)

And my first request after my little hiatus! I apologize for the wait :) This was a fun idea to work with! This description matched the First Contact AU pretty perfectly so this accidentally became a First Contact fic, sorry if that’s not what you were looking for HAHA. Still though, i hope you enjoy :)

Warnings: SFW, GN!Human!Reader, First Contact AU

“And how did you say you found this creature, again?”

“By sheer coincidence! I was gathering some extra supplies from the crates in the back of the medbay, only to push a box aside and find… this.”

You lay flat against your elbows in the palm of a bright red servo, eyes darting frantically between the two titans above you as they conversed in an exchange of vowels and consonants you couldn’t comprehend. The two aliens were similar in color, yet couldn’t look more different— as if they were opposites, yet complemented one another all the same.

The bot that held you was square in his frame, his default expression a discontented scowl. From the platform of his palm, you could see the aged paint of his plating, full of dents and scratches galore. On the hand beneath you, specifically, you could see the chips of paint around each of his joints. Near-imperceptible to a being of his scale, certainly, but you could see the little splotches of blue peeking out from constant use.

The mech beside him was a completely different story, however. Rather than the square, boxy shape of his companion— this one was decorated with sharp angles. His color palette was like the other’s but reversed, more white with accents of bright red. Despite his triangular appearance, he gazed at you in Ratchet’s palm curiously— while Ratchet appeared more skeptical than anything.

“Have you ever seen a being such as this?” Wondered Drift aloud.

“Not in my years, no,” Ratchet replies with a shake of his head.

Wordlessly, Drift offers up both of his hands cupped before you. You pull back, head flicking between Drift’s face and his offered hands, grimacing.

Despite the language barrier, you know the sound of a scoff when you hear it, and as it echoes out from above you you can feel the platform of Ratchet’s palm start to tilt out from beneath you. You can do little to grab on— the ridges of his joints weren’t wide enough for you to cling to, so you succumb to your fate and tumble down into the samurai’s awaiting servos.

“Ratchet!” Drift scolds, “You could’ve handled them a little nicer.”

“C’mon, I wasn’t going to wait all day for it to hop off,” the medic grumbles. “Plus, it’s an organic. The texture was… off-putting.”

As if to prove his hypothesis, Ratchet reaches out a large digit and pokes at your stomach. In your injured state, you let out a wheeze, and Drift is quick to pull his hands closer towards him and away from his conjux.

“Did you hear that?” He asks, not really expecting an answer. “They almost sounded injured, poor thing.”

“Can I take a look?” Ratchet hums, and the white mech stares at him suspiciously for a moment. The older bot lets out another scoff, “I won’t handle them roughly, I promise.”

Satisfied, Drift nods, and slowly lowers his hands from his chassis to present you forwards. You were holding your stomach now, curled inwards in a fetal position, but even so, one could easily tell you were covered in marks and bruises all over your little form.

Again, Ratchet hums. “Let’s take them to the main medbay, see if our scanners can pick up anything.” As the medic concedes, a smile spreads wide across Drift’s faceplate, and Ratchet has to stuff down the urge to grin himself at seeing him so excited. He occupies himself by starting towards the main scanner, activating it and preparing any systems they may have needed. “With any luck, we can figure out just what this creature is.”

Drift starts to make his way over to the scanner as well, cradling you gently between his two hands. He lifts you up to his face, and though you scoot back up away from it, something about his innocent smile seems… endearing, to you.

“Hear that, little one? We’re going to get you all fixed up in no time.”