#fuck it I'm on vacation I got a glass of wine and I'm gonna try to remember what this fic is even about

[filet-o-feelings]

okay, I opened the doc... what next?

(counting this as my inspiration Saturday... it's more of plea for inspiration but it's what I'm working with. Anyway, thanks for the tags @hippolotamus and @lemonlyman-dotcom 🥰)

[crypticmotherfucker]

Tw SH, Substance abuse, relapse, homelessness

So I got evicted because my landlord wanted to raise the rent, and instead of being upfront about it, they found out we were planning on moving and made the excuse that our apartment smelled like marijuanna. It was five days until christmas when i got the notice. I don't have the money for court fees and definately don't have the time or energy for court so I can't even fight it. On new years I'll officially be homeless. Ableit it won't be permanent we have plans to get a new place, which is definately not an improvement from our already small falling apart place but I'm still greatful for that. But I'll be separated from my partner. Like my platonic life partner. Like I love them so much I cook for them daily and they drive me around because I cant drive and i can't imagine living my life without them type partner. They are my bestfriend. And I can't bear to know they're gonna be suffering mentally crashing at their parents house and I wont be able to do anything about it because I haven't been able to work for nearly a year now. I'm also having to get rid of a lot of things that are very dear to me, which has been especially hard growing up with scarcity trauma and ending up with hoarding tendencies. I won't have my own space for a month. I grew up sharing a room, and even once I got my own as a teen I never had any privacy and wasn't really allowed to take up space and so sleeping in a one bedroom home with 2 other people and two cats is going to be a lot to me . I'm going to try to see it as just a very long vacation crashing on a friends couch but truth is its really going to drive me crazy. I ended up drinking an entire bottle of wine to myself and BY MYSELF and that's where the real issue comes in. I am totally fine usually to drink wine in moderation as a self care or social thing, as long as I limit myself to one glass. But when I use it as a coping mechanism for stress, and then also do it by myself with no one around to judge me or to keep me in check or to drink up the rest of the bottle before I can, that's when I know I've fucked up. I also dissociated really bad when told the news to the point where I stared at the same spot on the floor for an hour, scratching at my fingers which are now blistered from it, and when my roomate left for work I began immediately uncontrollablely hyperventilating and crying. I feel so hopeless. But not even in a unreasonable and depressed way. In a genuinely ... things are awful way. I've tried to be positive and hopeful for so long. But I mean... if you lost all your dreams, most of your mobility, your independence, your money, and your house you'd be upset about it too. If you weren't I think there'd be something else wrong. Anyway. I know not many people care but this is my safe space where I document my brain. I used to journal but my mother stole my journal as a kid ahahah so now I can only use tumblr bc i know she isn't tech savvy enough to see it or even find me here because nobody has for 5 years. Anyway if you did read this and need company in misery feel free to message me.

[spencersawkward]

I love your ff first of all, I'm obsessed and second of all I would ask you a suggestion, idk if maybe is that too much and you're totally free to not do that but you ever thought to do something in the line of the knive kink? I think it will be awesome

i'm so sorry this took so long! big thanks to my guardian angel @voidsfilm for giving me inspiration bc i literally struggled with this one more than i should have. never written a knife kink but i’m glad i tried lol.

summary: reader finds an antique knife that Matthew's kept in a drawer.

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, oral (male receiving), knife play (no blood drawn), Soft!Dom MGG, degradation and praise.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

if there is one thing I absolutely despise, it's working out. getting sweaty, running until my legs hurt and my lungs are burning for air... not really my thing.

but when Matthew brought up the idea a couple months into our relationship, I couldn't say no to him: he had a goofy smile on his face and the kind of look in his eyes that made me relent and ask what kind of stuff he wanted to do.

I think that I've found the one thing that Matthew can't make fun.

"I'm gonna pass out." I bend over and set my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Matthew slows to a stop a few feet ahead, turning around and making a strained expression.

"oh, come on." but his voice is pretty breathless, too. he gently guides me off the path so that we don't get in the way of the other people out enjoying the day. a couple walks by us with their dog, strolling calmly, and I feel a rush of envy. if our workout routine had consisted of a few pleasant ambles around the city, I would have been totally willing.

"Matthew, I wanna go home." I whine impatiently. the only nice thing about this is that he's got one of those stupid sweatbands on his head to keep his hair out of his face, and it makes him look like a 1980's housewife.

"we can go home in fifteen minutes." he smiles, puts his hands on his hips, stretching in an exaggerated way.

"do you promise?" I brush a piece of hair out of my face.

"promise," he's lucky he looks so cute in his workout outfit. "we can even get one of those fancy juices for you on the way back."

"seriously?" I light up. this might actually be worth it; they have this amazing mango and lime combination that I can't ever manage to recreate with our own blender.

"if you beat me to the rock, then sure." he references the enormous boulder in Central Park that we both gawked at on our first date-- ever since then, it's been the end point for our runs. my lips curl into a grin.

"you're on." I take off, making sure to push him out of the way in order to gain a head start. he lets out something of a protestation but is quick to follow. I can feel his feet pounding behind me, trying to catch up.

I may not be good at running long distances, but I'm sure as hell faster than he is.

...

it's quiet when I step out of the bedroom, drying my hair with the towel and wandering into the living room. Matthew is sitting at the table with his sketchbook, drawing god knows what while he waits for me to finish up.

"what are you up to?" I ask softly as I plop down across from him. my head is slightly tilted while the towel rubs my scalp.

"I'm not really sure." he shrugs, frowning and holding up the notebook from a distance as if that'll help him figure out what to do.

"can I see when you're done?"

"of course," he sets it on the table again, then runs a fingertip across his chin. "actually, can you do me a favor?"

"sure."

"I have a set of colored pencils in the desk over there," he points to an old piece of furniture under the window. "would you mind getting them for me?"

"yep," I reply, getting up and leaving the towel on the table. "least I can do after kicking your ass."

on the walk past him, Matthew grabs my waist and pulls me into him, attacks me with tickles. I squeal and hit his shoulder.

"stop!" I laugh.

"you barely beat me!" he gives a dazzling smile and finally lets me go. I lightly smack him upside the head and head over to the desk, rifling through the drawers for the colored pencils he wanted.

as I push around various art supplies, glue sticks and random paintbrushes that look to be on the brink of falling apart, my fingers pass something cool and metallic. I grab the thing and pull it out.

it's a knife; like, a fancy one with an intricately decorated handle and what seems to be a pretty dulled edge. before he can notice what I've found, I start to move the thing between my hands curiously. there's a nice weight to it, but it's definitely old.

"hey, Matthew?" I ask warily.

"yeah?" so unassuming and sweet.

"why do you have a knife?"

there's a scratching as he gets up from the table to walk over to me. I lean against the desk. Matthew doesn't seem too bothered by what I'm saying at all, only gently taking the weapon out of my hands and examining it himself.

"oh, yeah!" he lets out something like a laugh. I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to continue. "do you remember when we went antiquing in Cape Cod, like, a month ago?"

"yeah." I nod at the memory. he'd been lucky enough to get some vacation days and we'd spent them sitting by the water with glasses of wine and nothing but time to talk. it really was a great trip, now that I think about it.

"I found it there." he still hasn't looked up and I realize that there's something he's not telling me. I don't know what I'm missing, but I start to get nervous.

"...why?"

"I was gonna ask then, but I guess I just forgot." his tongue darts out across his bottom lip as he lifts his face to meet my gaze. my heart thuds when he opens his mouth again. "I kinda wanted to try something."

"like?"

"I've been thinking about maybe using knives... in a sexual way."

"what?" I frown, confused by his wording. Matthew seems to realize that he's phrased it awkwardly and shifts his stance. he keeps glancing between the object and my face like he's worried about scaring me away.

"I don't mean I'm gonna stab you or anything," he laughs. "I just mean I think it sounds fun."

my hand finds his, brushing my palm over the steel to touch it myself again. there's a curiosity that burns through me now, something I'm a little unsure about but not enough so to deny the possibility of trying it.

"what do you wanna do with it?" I peek up at him. he bites his lip. we're speaking in gentle tones and I notice that our bodies have gotten closer within the last few moments. a warmth, a tension.

"like, pressing the blade flat against your skin while I fuck you." he takes the thing and demonstrates. the cool silver rests on my neck, too dull to really threaten a serious cut if he were to move too quickly. a shiver runs down my spine at the sensation of the metal.

I gulp, feel the curve of my throat push against it when I swallow. it's nice.

"oh." is all I say. Matthew is watching me intently, but he doesn't make any motion away from it. like he's entranced by the sight of me with a knife to my throat.

"are you interested?" he asks.

I mull it over. on the one hand, weapon play is something I've never considered in my sex life before. Matthew and I aren't vanilla, but this hasn't crossed my mind. that said, now that I can really feel it, there is a desire forming in my stomach. it would be a strange, new sensation.

"yes." the confirmation makes him smile a little. he lowers the thing and instead wraps me in his arms, kisses me passionately until our tongues are dancing over each other. I love how he holds me, our torsos against each other while my body leans slightly back to accept the weight of his touch.

he goes to my head like alcohol. and it's even more surreal when I feel the blade move under the hem of my shirt to rest against my back. I smile into his mouth. he doesn't do anything with it, just leaves it to remind me.

he starts to rut his hips against my lower stomach, getting aroused at the proximity of our bodies and the heated nature of our kiss. there's an urgency to all of it, like he's holding back. I don't want him to hold back; I want him to give me everything he has, everything beneath the surface.

my fingers twine in his hair and tug on the ends, causing him to groan into our embrace. there's no way we're going to make it all the way to the bedroom with the way he's grabbing at my body, so I stumble backwards towards the couch until the backs of my thighs hit the arm of it.

"you're horny." I giggle slightly when he pushes the hem of my shirt up my body, his nails dragging over my ribcage and trailing the object along with it. I feel the excitement growing.

"I'm just glad you're willing to try this." he murmurs the words, holds our foreheads together before his lips eagerly seek mine out, again. somehow, even with a weapon leveled against me, I can sense the love in every single action. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't trust him to treat me with the utmost care.

I work at the buttons of his shirt, pushing it over his lovely shoulders and arms as he unclasps my bra. we're fervent, greedy in our movements, trying to kiss despite the attention needed to remove our clothes. mostly we just tangle up in each other until there's nothing left but my shorts for him to shove down my legs. he keeps his pants on.

"c'mon, beautiful." he mutters, pushing my legs open so that I'm sitting on the arm of the couch. he tilts my head and leans closer to suck on my bottom lip, and then starts to massage my tits. I can feel the handle of the weapon against my nipple.

when he reaches to slide his finger between my folds, I hiss out a breath at the cold sensation of his skin.

"is this because of me or the knife, baby?" he asks, corners of his mouth twitching up while I moan into his mouth. he starts to rub my clit with the collected wetness, teasing me too much. I want to fall back, but I can't. I won't let myself.

"both." I find myself turned on by the way the blade sits against my ribs again. the edge is just sharp enough to elicit a reaction from my body.

"feel that?" he angles the thing the slightest bit. I exhale and nod.

that isn't the response he's looking for, however, because he moves it so that it's under my chin. goosebumps on my skin while I pant uselessly against the weapon. I can feel it press harder with every breath out of my lungs, and I love it. I love the risk it brings out of me.

while Matthew dips his index inside my pussy, I writhe against it and tilt my head even more so he has better access.

"look at you," he lets out a dark chuckle, thrusts into me to the last digit. "you want more of this, don't you?"

"yes, sir." I breathe. my neck is actively moving against the metal. I glance down at his body and see his erection straining against his pants, craving release but finding none as he plunges his fingers in and out of me. I can hardly breathe from sheer focus on the sensations he's giving me right now.

"what are you looking at, sweetheart?" he quickens the pace of his movements and uses the object to make me focus on his face.

"you're hard." the words nearly die on my lips. he stares darkly at me, lifting his brows just enough to make me question whether I should have spoken at all. I bite my lip in anticipation.

"and what are you gonna do about it?" his voice is raspy as he stands back, removes his fingers from my pussy, and lets me drop to my knees. I'm weak both from the stimulation and from the loss of it, but I make quick work of undoing his belt, pulling the pants down his legs until I'm face-to-face with his cock. it sits against his stomach, throbbing impatiently while he watches. he uses the metallic point under my jaw to angle my face up to his.

"are you gonna suck me off, baby?" he smirks. I nod rigorously with wide eyes and an open mouth, dragging my tongue along the underside. Matthew's nose scrunches up for a moment at the shock of contact when I tease the head. all his concentration is on watching me wrap my hand around the shaft and pumping him gently. "spit on it."

I obey and spit right onto the tip before rubbing my thumb over the top to gather the precum. as I start to swirl my tongue and move my lips onto him, he throws his head back, lets out a wanton noise. it urges me on. I take every moment with a deliberate attention to the veins and sensitive spot he has.

"that's it, that's it." he rasps while knotting his hand in my hair. the other keeps the knife pressed to my throat. he lets me move on my own for a bit, gauging my desires from the way my eyes attempt to memorize the sight of his face above me, that jaw dropped in licentious craving. I can tell that he wants to fuck my face, but I go slow just to draw it out a little. it makes the soreness of my jaw worth it when he gets all impatient and flustered.

I hollow my cheeks and bob on his dick, bat my lashes, pull myself off him for a second just to kiss the tip.

"can I use your mouth?" he asks through a restrained groan. I open it and nod, sighing at the feeling of his fingers twining through my hair again before he pushes back into the opening. now that he's got full control, he starts to develop his own movements, sometimes meeting his thrusts by pressing my face against him.

he gets deep in it, never losing his grip on the knife, until my nose is pressed to his stomach. my throat closes instinctively around him even more tightly, and he lets out a guttural moan.

"such a cute mouth when I'm using it." he thrusts until I gag and then he's smiling. "get up."

he removes himself so fast, my eyes water at the sudden lack of blockage in my throat. I gulp air while he hooks his hands under my arms and hoists me up. I'm about to turn around so I can lift my leg and give him better access, but he sits me on the arm of the couch and parts my thighs.

"I wanna see your pretty face." he leans down and pecks my cheek. I smile at the surprising tenderness-- although it doesn't last long. steel sits against the space between my neck and collarbone. it's only a moment before he positions himself between my legs and slides his cock into me.

my back arches and I look him in the eyes, gasping.

"fuck, baby." he drags out the first word as he inches inside. I mewl helplessly at the way he stretches me out, my pussy clenching every few seconds. he keeps one hand on my lower back to support me and bring me closer to his pelvis, and then we're staring into each other's eyes as he finally settles in it.

his hips start to thrust into me, hopeful for any kind of contact while I accustom myself to the shape of him. it happens every time, despite the amount of times we've done this. and I'm bad at patience, but he's worse. his body stutters against mine.

"is it good enough, sir?" I ask quietly. he tightens his grip on my back and on the blade, the edge threatening my skin the perfect amount. I suck in a breath at the way it stings a little.

"you're doing perfectly." he recognizes what I want to hear as he finds my sweet spot and begins to hit it repeatedly, smoothly works my body. I swear there are planets in my eyes when I stare at the expressions on his face, both of us so wrapped up in each other that every other thought becomes obsolete.

he moves the knife to under my chin to rest on my throat.

"feel that?"

I nod so the edge bites more. he smirks.

"just to show you who you belong to."

my hips push up to meet his thrusts, needing more stimulation, more friction. what I want is for him to be relentless, to slam into my body with the kind of hunger I know he has. there are sounds, movements, that he's made before that make me want him to use them. but he's withholding, probably hesitant about the dangerous object on my pulse point.

"I belong to you, sir." I egg him on. he likes the sound of that, grunting and starting to pound into me.

"yeah? you're my dirty little whore." he speaks through gritted teeth. I shiver.

"mhmm."

"I use you how I want, when I want." his fingertips dig into my skin and he yanks me closer so that he can hit a new angle. I let out a surprised noise when he brushes my g-spot. it's otherworldly and I expose more of my neck to him.

"my little slut likes pain, huh?" he nudges the weapon harder into my skin. it doesn't draw blood, but I can sense the mark it'll leave. I love it.

"yes, sir." we're both getting needy, but we can't hold each other the way that we want to in our given positions. my palms are occupied on the arm of the couch to hold myself up and one of his hands is too busy holding the object for us to fuck as deeply as we need.

"are you gonna take it like a good girl when I cum in it?" he mutters. he runs his tongue over my jawline and the weapon nicks my skin. I moan at the mingling of sensations that's building all across my body.

"yes, sir." I plead. it's nearly unbearable, how much I want him. we're chasing our orgasms and I know what will finish me off. he knows, too.

Matthew drops the knife. it clatters to the ground, but there's no time for me to register it with the way he grabs my hips and lifts me into the air, my legs wrapping around his waist while he keeps fucking into me. he maneuvers us with shocking ease, laying me on the couch and positioning himself at the right moment so that I can drag my nails over his back and keep my thighs locked around him.

"mmm... baby, I'm gonna cum." he drives into me recklessly, both of us finally able to cling to each other. the angle is just enough to stimulate my clit and I nod, using the leverage of my legs to pull myself to him and roll my hips for friction.

Matthew slams my body into the couch, grunting in my ear as he finds his climax inside me. it's so deep, I have to work to keep the yell inside, but he's not done. he rides it out and plows into me while I reach the edge.

"tell me how it feels." he orders in my ear. I sigh.

"so-- so good, sir." my voice is thin. "I'm close."

"show me." he leaves bruises on my hips with his hands. I feel the knot finally snap, every muscle in my stomach spasming chaotically. I finish with a loud moan, begging him to drag it out further. my vision nearly goes black at the tide that threatens to overtake my body.

"Matthew--" I gasp. he moans quietly at the way I say his name, still rocking his body into mine while I come down from the shocks of orgasm. it's nearly overwhelming, the pleasure running through my body.

slowly, we come to a stillness and he drops his head into my shoulder, panting. he doesn't let go at first, but then he withdraws from my pussy and lets me take a rest. I lay there on the couch while he kneels between my legs, pressing gentle kisses to my neck.

"I love you." he repeats it over and over.

"I love you, too," I hope he can feel the meaning, despite the sheer exhaustion in my tone. he runs his fingertips across the red marks where the thing went a little too deeply, but I'm not worried about it. "we should try that again, sometime."

"you liked it?" he smiles brightly. I love the lines by his eyes.

"definitely."

he lets out a cheerful noise and buries his face back into my throat because he knows how much it tickles. I screech and giggle, my legs kicking wildly around me. more contented than ever before.

[babbushka]

For the latest promts: 7. "I'm gonna be so late but the thought of not tasting you right this very second just might kill me." and/or 45. "I can't stop thinking about your mouth, and it's driving me nuts." for bond villain kylo, pretty please?

Happy Thanksgiving weekend!! Would you please consider this for Bond Villain Kylo? Please and thank you very much for doing a sinday! 19. "I'm sorry I keep staring, but you're really the hottest thing I've ever seen in my entire life and I don't know what to do about it."

Hello dearest! Wanted to stop by since requests are open and politely ask for a prompt of any of the boys (though i think mob/bondvillan kylo and pale work best) meeting the reader in a lil’ burlesque place, yknow havin a little jessica rabbit moment! Or just something along those lines! Thank you! ✨❤️

2k, minor angst, NSFW (pussy eatin’ & fingering)

He’s got to be here somewhere, you’re sure of it. Kylo Ren, what an enigma of a man, you think as you walk with purpose through the lounge. This was one of those places where criminals of his ilk came to unwind, dark and out of the way from prying eyes. Women and men in risqué costumes performing strictly choreographed numbers for the enjoyment of the wealthiest people in the world, unlimited drinks on a tab that half these criminals never even looked at, and thick steak dinners galore.

You’re watching the end of one of the performances now, politely clapping when the women take a gracious bow. You’re here on an intel mission for someone completely and totally unrelated to your Mr. Ren.

But just because you weren’t here for him, didn’t mean you wouldn’t find him.

Or rather, that he wouldn’t find you.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?” Speak of the devil, there’s Kylo now, sidling up right next to you in the cozy circle booth you’ve nestled yourself into.

You try not to look at him, because you’re still angry about Paris. Well, maybe angry is the wrong word, but you don’t want to think about the emotional implications of the right word – hurt. Being hurt meant you cared, and you can’t think about how treasonous it is, that you care for him.

“Enjoying the view, what else?” You say instead, sipping your drink to give you something to do. Or at least, pretending to sip your drink. A man at the bar had purchased it for you and you didn’t trust it one bit, but it wouldn’t do to anger a known criminal, so, you’re pretending.

Kylo smirks at your subtle gesture, waves the waiter over. He orders you a proper drink, slips the waiter a hundred, and within two minutes you have a fresh martini passed straight from the bartender to your palm.

Looking around to make sure no one is paying attention to you, you lean in and press a chaste kiss to Kylo’s lips, a silent thank you for always looking out for you. Even if you were still angry.

“I knew you were here the second you walked through the door.” Kylo breaks the silence, lights up a cigarette. The lounge is smoky already, what was one more puff?

“Oh you did, did you.” You muse, running the tip of your finger around the rim of the glass.

“Mhm,” Kylo leans in, his lips tickling your earlobe, his nose brushing against your cheekbone as he murmurs, “I could smell your perfume. You’re wearing the one I left you in Paris.”

“Yes, remember how you left me in Paris?” You bite back, bitterness stinging the back of your throat at the reminder.

The reminder of how he had taken you on a whirlwind vacation for what was supposed to be a week, but four whole days in with no warning, snuck out in the middle of the night off to do his dastardly deeds. You had woken up confused and upset that he would just disappear without a trace so early, and you’re still confused. Still upset.

Kylo’s eyes are soft, the lights up on the stage twinkling and blinking gently as the new number starts, a slow song sung by one of the performers.

“Don’t be sour, I’m here now aren’t I?” He reaches for your hand, and against your better judgement, you let him take it.

The woman sings in a smooth beautiful Italian that has the audience captivated. Your brain very passively translates, but you’re not paying that much attention. She’s gorgeous, the type of pretty that makes your stomach hurt, you think. You wonder if Kylo’s thinking it too.

When you spare a glance his way, you find that he’s got all eyes on you.

“Knock it off.” You bite back a grin, pleased to see that he’s so enthralled. He blushes, ducks his head bashfully.

"I'm sorry I keep staring, but you're really the hottest thing I've ever seen in my entire life and I don't know what to do about it." Kylo whispers, and it’s like the pain in your chest from Paris has vanished, replaced with the longing you have for him…the desire you have for him.

“I think you know exactly what you’re going to do about it.” You whisper back, licking your lips slowly, purposefully.

Kylo looks up then to check the coast being clear, and then presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Count to ten, then meet me in one of the red rooms.” He says, and then he’s away from your side, disappearing into the dark.

They’re the longest ten seconds of your life, but you wait for them to pass, before you too are leaving your table and the drink behind. You weave through the lounge a different way than he had, just so it wouldn’t be too obvious. Down the back hallway and to the private rooms your feet carry you – and when a strong hand grasps at your arm when you pass one of the red doors, you know you don’t have to be afraid.

Kylo is kissing you, walking you backwards the moment he catches you, and you let him. Your arms wind around his strong shoulders, your feet step out of their heels, your eyes slipping closed. It feels so right to have him like this, to have him right here in your arms where he belongs. It’s a dangerous thought, but it floods through you anyway, the relief of holding him this close.

“I can’t stop thinking about your mouth, it’s driving me insane.” Kylo chuckles against your lips, and you grin, your ego stoked. Knowing you’re on his mind is intoxicating, and it’s good payback for all the space he occupies in your brain.  

“Have your fill of me.” You encourage him, the back of your knees bumping against the nicely made bed. You sit right there on the edge, tugging him down down down with you, your tongues sliding together, mouths parting, lips panting and gasping against each other.

“Lay down?” Kylo murmurs, already loosening his bowtie.

“We can’t have sex here.” You shake your head regrettably, but he waves the thought off. He wouldn’t fuck you in a place like this.  

“No, no I know -- just let me eat your pussy for a little while, please?” His eyes are so big and pleading, brown in the low light of the red room. He throws a look to the clock on the wall and sighs, “I have a meeting and I'm going to be so late but the thought of not tasting you right this very second just might kill me.”

You roll your eyes and bite your lip with fond exasperation, before falling backwards the rest of the way onto the mattress and letting him kneel in front of you.

He pushes the skirt of your cocktail gown up, his strong arms slipping around your thighs as he nuzzles his cheek against your skin. He kisses and sucks a little trail to your folds, tugging aside your panties just enough that he can swipe his tongue through you, licking up your slick and juices.

“Fuck, that’s good.” You moan with a happy sigh as he plunges his tongue into your cunt, thrusting shallowly as his nose rubs and teases at your clit, “Oh god Kylo – your tongue.”

You can feel him smiling against you, a smile that turns into a great big grin when you tighten a fist in his hair, your back and hips arching up into his mouth. He sucks and licks at your pussy, one of his hands holding your lips open, making out with you and sending jolting shivers of pleasure up your spine. Your head is fuzzy in the best way, and you let out a gentle gasp when he pulls away enough just to fit two fingers into your cunt, tongue lapping up around them.

“You’re so sweet,” Kylo murmurs, kisses your inner thigh, the pad of his thumb pressing down on your clit and stimulating it while his fingers crook inside of you, stretching you wider to take more of his tongue. It’s long, and he has every intention of making you come on it. “Angel, baby girl, this pussy’s so sweet. Like wine, summer wine.”

“More, I want more.” You card your fingers through his hair while your chest heaves, nipples stiff inside your bra, the friction only making your pussy wetter for him. You whimper and whine, lipstick smudging from how often you lick your lips.

“Shh, shh angel, relax for me.” Kylo soothes you, speeding his fingers up some more, spreading them in little scissoring motions, thrusting them in and out of you.

It isn’t long before he replaces those fingers with his tongue again, the hot wet muscle spelling out his name against your walls, making you sweat, making your toes curl. You hold him in place, refusing to lessen your grip, wanting him to drown in your cunt. He chuckles, the sound deep and vibrating up into your very being, ricocheting through your bones, as your pleasure mounts and mounts and mounts -- until you’re coming into his mouth with a moan.

Kylo drinks you down, until he’s sure that you’re finished, your body shuddering and jolting gently on top of the covers. He cleans you up with his mouth, sucking your oversensitive skin until that slippery slide of slick is gone.

“Do you really have a meeting?” You breathe, chest aching.

That’s how this went, wasn’t it? You meet up, you fool around, and then someone leaves. More often than not, it’s him, that’s how it goes. That was the very nature of the relationship and it worked…didn’t it?

A small voice in the back of your head was starting to pipe up and quietly say, no, it wasn’t. But what you want, you can’t have, not yet anyway.

“Yes.” Kylo sounds regretful, and you wonder if he’s got the same thoughts in his head, the same voice egging him on, telling him to leave everything behind and run off with you, the way yours does every day now. He doesn’t say it, if there is. Instead he caresses your cheek with a sweaty palm and reassures you with, “Don’t worry, I’ll find you after.”

“I might not stick around.” You challenge, stretching the stiffness out of your legs, easing them back down into a more relaxed pose.

“There isn’t anywhere that you could go, where I wouldn’t follow.” Kylo says seriously, the kind of seriousness that he doesn’t often show you, let alone in moments like these.

“That’s creepy.” You reply, just to lighten the mood.

It works, he chuffs out a laugh and rolls his eyes.

“No, it’s romantic.” He counters, only to be met with a raise of your brow. He puts his hands up in surrender, amending, “For us, anyway.”

“Go to your meeting.” You nudge him with your foot, not wanting him to go at all.

He can tell, you know he can, with the way he hesitates. You shoo him playfully, and eventually, he steps into the bathroom to wipe off his chin, wash his hands. You listen to the water run, and think about how domestic of a sound that is, how domestic it could be.

But neither of you were domestic, an agent and her criminal, and so when Kylo steps back into the red room and lingers in the doorframe, when he smiles at you with his bowtie all crooked, you’re not too sour. You get up off the bed on shaky legs and make your way to him, undoing and retying the bowtie so it’s perfectly presentable, and he kisses you sweetly.

It’s just like he said, he’ll always find you, and you’re certain that you’ll be visited by him again real real soon.

[80s-roger]

Not On My Watch (pt 6)

Pairing: Dad!Roger x Mum!Reader (mid 80s)

summary: you’re divorced with queen’s roger taylor due to constant cheating and irrational behaviour towards you. but u have one person in common: your daughter, Laura aka your favourite human on earth. Your marriage with roger had its ups and downs but laura was the happiness in it. Now that she’s 8 and starts to realise how your terms with roger are, you finally tell her that you’re seeing another man except her father and she took it really warmly. She seemed excited to meet the new man unlikely your ex husband who accidentally learns about it by Laura, the weekend you would leave her at his place: on weekends you had some cute getaways with R/N because the court decided that Laura could stay or visit her dad on weekends and stay with him for five days each Christmas and easter vacations. On summers he has the right to be with her for two weeks.

taglist: @madeinheavxn @namelesslosers @stacymaytaylor @adqreu @cherries-n-rocknroll

catch up: part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

masterlist // dialogue prompts

note: this is the filthiest part of the entire series. also, sorry for waiting so long: I tried to think of a good smut scene, i feel like i ran out of ideas but thank you for your feedback!

words: 2,835

warnings: (18+!!!) surface smut, hardcore, penetrating, protected sex, oral, doggy (not anal), squirting, dom!rog - sub!reader, fluff

"Cheers to that." he laughed and took a sip of his red wine.

"Roger, we drank an entire bottle." You laughed back and placed your glass at the coffee table.

"We used to drink more. This is nothing compared to the old times." You were living the seventies the last past hour while being accompanied by a French red rose he recently bought during his most recent tour. You can tell you were both drunk. The dialogue was getting more and more personal.

"Yes, I remember that." You giggled, trying to recall all these times you couldn't stand up due to too much alcohol. "Most of these occurred at Freddie's parties."

"Remember when we went upstairs for a quick shag and we got caught by Freddie?" He hooted and blushed thinking of it but you gotta admit it was the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to you both.

"Ah don't remind me!" You laughed. "He was like mind joining you? " you mimicked Freddie's voice and Roger extolled at your impression.

"Ah, I have to admit that shit got me jealous, I wouldn't share you with nobody." He admitted, setting free his dominant character. His glass was now placed at the table and his body placed closer to yours. "Neither at the same time nor when we are apart." His hand was placed at your knee, gently rubbing it and slightly going a little closer to your core. "By the way," he started. You were taken aback at the moment, feeling him take control was all you wanted by him. You liked feeling horny in front of him. He didn't have to try hard. "How was sex without me?" He whispered seductively at your ear.

At his words, you bit your lip. Butterflies were flying like crazy in your stomach. You wanted to be so honest at the moment. You turned your gaze at his baby blues, while his hands softly rubbed your thong trying to reach your area, "Boring." You sighed. You had to admit, Roger was indeed a good lay, there wouldn't be a time where you wouldn't come before him or generally come.

"Boring?" He asked amused and you nodded. "Well, you have to remember some things." He winked. "Follow me." He stood up, took your hand and lead you upstairs.

"Um, Rog-" you kinda stopped walking the stairs.

"Yeah?" He asked confused.

"I know we're shitfaced but don't forget precautions." You reminded him because most of the times, he would find excuses to avoid using condoms, which you never agreed with. That's why you always carried them when you were together.

"Oh- sure." He seemed kinda defeated. Maybe he tried to not use again.

You walked to the bedroom, there was barely any lighting to the room, but the slightly opened curtains let the moon, shine your faces.

"Did I have to be this drunk to tell you that I want to fuck you like a sex-deprived man right now?" He rhetorically asked and you couldn't admit the fact you felt the same way.

"Fuck me then." You admitted and bit your lip, driving him crazy.

"Oh no, you didn't have to do that, did you?" He provoked you to wrap your legs around his waist when he pressed you against his cabinet which was right in front of his window. This night was promising. "You missed me being dominant? Hm?" He asked again and pressed his lips on yours with no warning. He was so passionate and thirsty about it. You let out a moan, trying to push him away to breath.

"Oh dear God." You exhaled.

"That's it, my love, he's going to hear you calling him many times tonight." He aggressively turned you around, to face the window while your body was standing at the cabinet. Your butt wouldn't stop pressing against his bulge. Roger felt the tension in that area and grabbed your jaw with his palm to bring his mouth closer to your ear. "I wanna fuck you right against the glass so anyone can see how good you take it." He stated.

"Yeah, I better give them some taste of how good I take your cock." You fought back, provoking him for more intensity.

"I'm gonna take this shirt off you, I want to see your tits bouncing, I don't fucking care." He turned you around and ripped that shirt off you. He made you sit at the cabinet, with your naked back against the window. Alcohol was acting way upon your sober selves. Sex was about to be passionate and intimidating.

Meanwhile, you took off his shirt and unzipped his jeans, leaving him to do the rest. He took off his underwear, revealing his hard cock, ready to fill you up entirely. You tried to take your thong off, but he stopped you, "No, on this round, I want to fuck you while wearing that." His hands placed your thighs and his face came closer to your wet area, giving it a fast lick. "Fuck, you're soaking wet." He looked at you surprised.

"Do what you have to do Roger, please stop playing around." You begged. You needed his cock.

"So needy for me? I like it." He smirked and came to your face for a kiss.

His face returned to your pussy, licking it and fucking it with two of his fingers. Your backside was already getting the freeze from outside but Roger tried to warm you up entirely. "God-" you moaned.

"That's it baby, you taste so nice." He moaned between his actions.

"Roger, I don't want to cum yet!" You closed your eyes and twirled your toes, denying your climax.

"You can have another orgasm again, I know you can do it." His mouth was sucking your area like he was starving, he wouldn't leave that area unbothered, that's for sure. Your hand was pressing his head closer to your clit, practically begging for more sucking. "That's enough for now." he came at your face again, kissing you passionately and then, his tongue entered your mouth giving you a taste of what was like down there. "I'm gonna fuck you so hard you forget that guy's name." he obviously mentioned the guy you were seeing and at the end didn't act like a man.

"Don't be gentle." You vouched between your heavy breathings and Roger helped you spread your one leg a little wider. His hand grabbed the thong's string and pulled it at your inner thigh to get inside you. And now his hard cock was in you, feeling you up entirely. "Ah- God!" You loudly moaned at his fast and hard thrusts that made you lose balance.

"I'd hold onto something, If I were you." He stated with a crooked smile on his face and his one hand grabbed your thigh, squeezing it while the other held your thong. At his statement, you hold the cabinet's edges and it seemed helpful. You were intensely looking whether his cock thrusting inside you or his eyes which looked at the same directions as you. "Fucking hell, you're so hot." He moaned behind his teeth. "So tight for me." he closed his eyes and his head tilted back. "You like being fucked against the window, don't you?" He asked and kissed you.

"Yeah-" you shouted because of his thrusts and the cold you felt at your back. You weren't thinking about the neighbours' seeing you getting fucked; instead, you were focused on Roger's dick. You enjoyed every second of it.

"But you won't cum yet, right?" He wasn't inside you anymore and that void between your thighs now made you whimper. "What? I'll fuck you on the bed too, what did you think?" He playfully asked and pulled you up in his lap, trying to lay you on bed.

"Oh God, Roger, you're gonna do what you had said earlier?" You rolled your eyes because you remember him saying that he owes you an orgasm delay, a wall fucking- which took place at his cabinet, against the window and a good fuck; on four.

"Of course love, I keep my words." He bit his lip and grabbed a condom from his nightstand, preparing himself for the second round. He was standing next to the bed and his hard cock was coming closer to you. "Help me put on the condom. I want to feel your hands over me." He seductively whispered and helped him do what he said. Touching his dick was something he loved about you. You were teasing him and did so many things with it.

"Now what?" You bit your lip and smiled at him.

"This cock isn't gonna suck itself so you better start." He demanded and let you do what it pleases him the most. You laid on his bed, with your head at the place he was standing.

Your hand grabbed his dick, jerking him off, up and down until your tongue sucked his balls, "Christ, fuck!" He moaned at your move and kept doing it until you wanted to actually suck his penis. Your mouth could take him all and you couldn't get enough of it. His hands pressed your face against his cock, at the terms of choking you. You gagged at the lack of oxygen and stopped for a second to smile at him. "You take it so well baby." He encouraged you to keep doing it, with fast moves, until you could feed his thighs trembling. "Yeah, that's enough... I don't wanna cum yet. Not until you're on four." He placed his knees on bed and leaned down to kiss you deeply.

"You're so impatient for it, your mistresses never satisfied you on that?" You laughed and took off your thong staying finally naked.

"They're not you. Now turn over and get on all fours." He started. "Remember, be loud. Give me those moanings I love to hear." He kissed your back before assuming his position.

You stabilized yourself at bed's top, where he used to tie you from time to time. His dick was slowly getting inside your vagina again, trying to make it less painful because that position was always hard for you. You had to take his entire size inside you so you need more time to settle. "Ah, fuck, Roger!" You shouted over the pillows after feeling his dick moving in and out you.

"You're taking it so good babe..." he moaned as his hands grabbed your thighs and pulled them closer to him, trying to lock any distance between your bodies.

Roger having the entire control behind you, made you feel protected; he liked being dominant in bed, liked being the one in control but that never meant he wouldn't listen to your needs or take care of you after sex. You trusted him on that and you definitely liked being sub.

"Moan my name loudly, I want the neighbours to know it was me." He moaned within his thrusts that wouldn't let you breathe normally.

"Fuck, Roger!" You shouted at the slap he gave you combined with your hand that travelled down there to rub your clit.

"You like getting spanked, hm?" He nervously asked, waiting for your loud answer. He knew it was one of your kinks, he would definitely get advantage of that.

"Christ, Roger, yes I do!" You chanted, with your voice cracking in the middle of the sentence.

His hand took yours off your clit, doing the work for you. He wouldn't stop thrusting inside you until he came. He wanted it to be intense and sweaty and he succeeded, for both of you.

"My name sounds so good when you moan it." He said between his heavy breathes and laid on top of you with his dick still inside you. "But I can't see that pretty mouth of yours doing it, so I'll stick with your ass. I like the view." He implied.

"You have to go a little harder if you want your neighbours to hear me." You provoked him to go faster than earlier. You wanted to feel your walls tighten. You didn't have to lie about him but giving you enough pleasure. It was part of the game.

"Oh, you shouldn't have said that." His dick was taken out of you and aggressively turned you around. Now your front side was his view and he looked excited about it.

"Haven't cummed yet right?" He asked and placed his lips on yours. You nodded when his hand grabbed yours on top of bed. "Well, as good as it feels, you will have to try to keep yourself together for my final thrusts. Deal?" He asked and wanked his dick for a few seconds before thrusting inside you again.

"Deal." You answered and prepared yourself for the hard part. Have his entire length inside you. It was a hard task for you, uneasy to hold yourself together.

"Oh, and say the safe word if it gets too far." He added, reminding both of you that you have limits. "Red, isn't it?" He asked.

"Yes." You smiled and arched your back to kiss him.

His pelvis was moving like it had no bones, his thrusts would end you soon enough and you didn't want that. You didn't want any leg paralysis or Roger wouldn't give you his aftercare nor his own climax.

"Remember to be loud." He reminded but how could you forget? You weren't loud at your sober moments. But when you were drunk, it was out of control.

"Rog- Oh God!" Your moan was loud this time, at his attempt to thrust his entire size inside you. That was definitely easy-to-hear.

"That's my girl, you take my cock so nice." He encouraged you and couldn't stop staring at your tits, bouncing up and down. "Who's in charge?" He asked trying to feel assured that he is dominant.

"You are." You said and his hands, led you behind his back, setting you free from his restriction of not letting you touch your clit.

"And who's in charge?" he asked again with his legs almost trembling, making it visible now that he's almost ready to come.

"You are- fuck!" You, being so loud gave him pure satisfaction. He liked feeling dominant, being your orgasm provider. "God, Roger, I'm coming."

"That's it baby, cum for me, moan my name as you tighten around me." He moaned back and locked your legs around his waist, with no void between you. You felt your legs shaking when your climax approached and that energy passed through Roger's body. He was too close on coming with you.

"Ah fuck Roger!" you arched your back while Roger was rubbing your clit, to let you cum. He was so focused on that, his eyes wouldn't stop looking at you becoming a mess beneath him.

"Come on, love, do it. For me." He teased your pussy to finally let you squirt. At that second he took his dick out of your area until you squirted, with the liquids landing at the sheets, on his lower stomach and his penis. "That's my girl." He rewarded you with a kiss and let your hands give him a handjob.

"Roger, that was amazing." You said between your breaths and he finally laid next to you.

"God, agree... It's been ages since I felt so ecstatic." he looked at you and there was silence. You waited for each other to gain some stamina. It was only ten minutes after that and he went to the bathroom to clean himself. "How are you feeling?" He asked when he entered the bedroom again.

"Maybe tired... I don't know how productive will I be at work tomorrow." You laughed.

"At least you're gonna be hella hot, have you seen yourself on sex?" He boosted your confidence.

"Ah stop it." You joked. "I'll go clean myself." You stood up from his bed and walked past him. You gained a gentle slap on your butt and...

"I prepared you a babble bath, I think you need it. I'll change the sheets as long as you're bathing," he told and you nodded fully excited about your after-care routine. He always liked to be the guy who's in charge when it comes to after-care. He liked making you feel you're under his wing.

At your bath time, it was all so calm and satisfying. Nothing could ruin your moment. You were at Roger's home, at his bath. He had probably laid on the bed waiting for you, so you didn't lose any more time. You just grabbed the towel he left for you and walked through his bedroom.

"Rog have you seen the-" You stopped after seeing him snoring at his bedside. "Ah.." you awed.

You got dressed again, wearing his shirt and clean underwear and finally laying for a nice and comfy sleep. You heard exhaling when you found your comfortable side and by then, his hands wrapped your waist, not letting you go.

The next day would be hard for both of you. You didn't know what was coming.

[thelegendofjenna]

okay so i'm spending a few days in a quaint beach town just because, and my dad told me he heard about this "treehouse restaurant" so I looked it up before I came and basically it's a rooftop patio restaurant and the menu looked super good (if v expensive) and I was like "hell yeah, i'm gonna treat myself to the treehouse restaurant"

so tonight after watching the sunset on the beach and then going back to my hotel to change, I start walking to the restaurant. it's less than a ten-minute walk. but as I am walking I realize: this town has NO STREETLIGHTS. It's 6:30pm and I'm walking down empty streets that are PITCH DARK. I see a guy walking a dog and he's holding a flashlight. We are a block away from the main shopping district. This is so weird.

but anyways as I'm getting closer to the restaurant I'm like...something is fucked up with my vision. It's so dark that it's hard to see anyway but I'm pretty sure I have a small blind spot. I took out my phone to try reading something on the screen and sure enough, I have a blind spot. This is also called an aura, and it's how my migraines always start. Now this is concerning because this marks my third migraine in three weeks, when usually I get them like. once or twice a year. I'm a little freaked out that something is wrong with my brain. but regardless, I'm now in an unfamiliar town, alone, heading to a fancy restaurant for dinner, and i have the starting sign of a migraine.

the smart, responsible thing to do would have been to turn around, maybe stop at a market to grab some food i could eat, and then return to my hotel to ride out the migraine.

I did not do this. I wanted treehouse restaurant. I decided I would down three ibuprofens as soon as I got there (I had some in my purse) and hope for the best. If I started feeling bad I could have them package my food to go (even though asking a waiter that fills me with anxiety).

So I get to the restaurant. I tell the host I want a table for one. I have never, by the way, eaten at a restaurant this fancy by myself. It wasn't crazy formal or anything, but entrees were like 20-30 bucks. If I eat out by myself I'm usually only going somewhere cheap. But here I am.

Anyway, the host brings me to a table on the patio. But it was like, this tiny table tucked in the corner, and because of where he was standing when he led me to it I ended up sitting in the seat that faced away from the rest of the patio. So basically I'm sitting on my own in this weird corner, facing away from every other diner, looking at the dark street below. It also was pretty far away from any of the heaters, so it was kind of cold. The host was like "is this okay? it's not too cold?" and I was like "yeah it's fine" because I would always say that anyway and because I didn't think it was too bad. He was like, "I'll get you a blanket" and I kind of laughed.

Then I looked at the menu and the guy came back with a fleece blanket! I thought he'd been joking. I put the blanket on my lap, but still took my big coat off because it didn't feel too cold.

A server asks if I want anything. I just ask for water, so that I can take my ibuprofen. My blind spot isn't so big that I can't read the menu, but it's definitely still there. I order a glass of wine, too. Alcohol is probably bad for migraines, but also I'm treating myself to a fancy grown up dinner on vacation and wine seems necessary.

My water finally comes (and this is the kind of place where you have to specify that you want tap water, not sparkling or bottled water). I take my pills. My wine arrives and I sip it. I just ordered the cheapest chardonnay because I know nothing about wine. It's pretty good. They also bring bread and oil so I snack on that and try to test the extent of my blind spot. I do this by holding out both of my hands and moving my gaze to see when and how much of my right hand disappears. I try to do this subtly, so that I do not look too unhinged.

The bread and oil was good. Pretty quickly, my entree arrives: mushroom truffle ravioli. In true Expensive Restaurant fashion, it is extremely little food. It's like, five big raviolis, covered in white sauce and basil and shaved parmesan. It does taste super good though. I'm trying to drink a lot of water along with my wine because water is better for headaches. The servers keep coming by and checking on me, they're all super attentive, and I'm just smiling and saying shit like "it's perfect, thank you," while I can't see half of their face because of my blind spot. I'm speedrunning through this dinner because I still have to walk back to the hotel afterwards and want to get out of there before the headache really hits or my vision gets worse. I feel like I must look very strange to the servers. I'm getting colder - in between bites I clasp my hands together in my lap to warm them up. The ravioli is super rich so it's like, kind of fair that they gave me so little. Halfway through the meal, I feel like my blind spot might be getting better? I also am committed to finishing the meal here, because it would be comical to ask them to package up two raviolis to go. I realize that by being away from the space heaters, my food also cools dramatically faster than it would otherwise. I only get halfway through the final ravioli before giving up, because it does not taste nearly as good cold - creamy white pasta sauce is not meant to be eaten at this temperature.

I push my plate away from me with the silverware laid across it, and as I sip on my water and wine I pull out my phone. I can read normally - my blind spot legitimately has gotten better. A server comes by and asks to take my plate, then asks if I want anything else - dessert, more wine. I decline, because I am very full and pretty cold and still want to get out of there before my head starts searing with pain. Now that I can see and don't have food to occupy my hands with, I open my notes app and start writing fanfiction on my phone while I wait for the check. The check comes, I finish my wine and pay. I can see totally normally now. I thank the various servers who wish me a good night and get the hell out of there.

walking out of the restaurant I'm just laughing to myself because of how fucking weird the whole thing was. "I'm going to have a mature fancy dinner" I had thought to myself. "I'm going to drink wine and pay for expensive food and be my own company." The walk back to my hotel was blissfully uneventful, and while my head feels a little weird I'm okay enough to use my computer, which is honestly groundbreaking. On the one hand, if I'm starting to get migraines on a weekly basis I am extremely fucking mad and concerned, but if all I need to cut them off is 3 ibuprofen then I guess it's not a big deal. I think I was at the restaurant for a total of 45 minutes.