#here is the smut you all wanted

[arcielee]

Ask Me Anything

Summary: Aemond asks his professor some questions.  Paring: Modern Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 3162 Warnings: The smutty smut you all wanted, fingering, p in v.  Author’s Note:  Here is part 2, you can read part 1 Hazy Shades of Spring ♥ This was the poll winner and I had to make it into 2 parts. Also, I am also celebrating that I have over 400 followers now! Thank you all so much for reading, it fills me with joy. A shoutout to my muse and editor @f4ll-for-you​ thank you for your unique perspective and helping me become a better writer! ♥ Also, I got this finished on Ewan’s birthday? Coincidence? Yes, absolutely. My planning and scheduling is terrible.  Tags (Tumblr kindred spirits): @sirenofavalon @annikin-im-panicin @nina2697 @skikikikiikhhjuuh @itsabby15 @greenowlfactif @padfooteyes​ @danika1994 (If there is a strikethrough, it would not allow me to tag you.) 

Mrs. Lannister had been kind enough to share that even though you ended your office hours early on Fridays, you would often remain to finish the lesson plan for the next week. “She’s the only one who does this,” she continued her overshare, batting her lashes. “The rest of the faculty is already gone for the day…even I’m about to leave!”

Aemond returned a warm smile that was close lipped and allowed his cheeks to dimple, noting the faintest hint of rose to her complexion when he thanked her. His gait was languid with his fluid stride to follow the hallway that snaked through the building and back to where he already knew your office would be. 

He saw the glint of your name on the door plaque and it seemed closed; he stopped and rapped his knuckles on the wood, the action pushing it slightly ajar and allowing him to step in. 

“How may I help you?” You had asked without bothering to look up. Your laptop was open and a stack of papers were tidy on the side, but your focus remained on the one in front of you. 

Aemond thought to when his brother first enrolled in your business law course, his arrogance more obnoxious than usual when he came home to say, “My professor is hot and I am definitely fucking my way to an A.” 

Aemond did not even acknowledge the cocksure idiocracy he spewed and remained silent when Aegon would return with weekly updates before he inevitably begged their grandfather for a suitable donation to help him pass your class. He remembered being intrigued by the professor who, despite the board’s pressure, then only gave Aegon a barely passing grade.

Aegon was furious and Aemond only said: “You could always attempt studying,” with his eyebrow cocked.  

His brother moaned. “Wait until you have to deal with her.”

When Aemond entered the classroom, he remembered you were bold with your gaze and without the hint of fear he often met with other professors. Aegon had once described you as a librarian in need of a good railing, but Aemond liked your tasteful, almost bookworm look, how your hair would be twisted back and the glasses you wore during lectures.

He was dutiful with his classes, but with yours he found himself pressing for more; he would push for answers, often getting a rise from his classmates with his constant disputation, but you were unfazed by it, taking the time to pick apart any argument in your eloquent way and even admitting when he was correct with his verdict. Aemond would wait after the room emptied to approach your desk, pleasantries always exchanged and he liked your smile when you once said, “Are you sure you’re only twenty-two?” 

“Age is only a number,” he replied and relished in the blush that dusted your cheeks. 

Aemond could admit to himself he had a slight crush, but he did not understand the extent of it until the semester ended, until that Friday night. 

With Aegon doing a “study-abroad” in Essos, it was put on Aemond to help with the new restaurant. His uncle had been annoying throughout the set-up, using Aemond for menial micromanaging, and he was relieved with the grand opening, just to be rid of the role of Daemon’s tedious shadow. 

Everything is perfect, though, he thought during his rounds, walking the grand staircase towards the bar when he noticed your backside. 

Aemond did not immediately recognize you. For one, your hair was down, your thick main smoothed into a cascade of curls instead of the usual bun or braid your locks would be in. Also, the dress you wore fit to your curves in a way that looked like you had been poured into the garment, not your usual comfort uniform of a top, cardigan, and jeans. 

He was enamored by the curve of your back, how you were curled over the bartop and your attention focused on something, unaware of the few patrons that lingered with the hopes to draw your attention, before grabbing their drinks and moving on. It was the moment you paused to grab your glass of wine that he recognized your profile.

He had to talk to you.

“Professor?” 

Your hesitation was understandable, but eventually you fell into the ebb and flow of the comfortable conversations he would get moments of during your office hours. His heart jumped when you offered the excuse to take you out on the balcony.  He was enamored with the way you held yourself, the smile on your lips and how he never truly noticed the beauty of your eyes or how your lashes framed them. 

Aemond noted the moments you would hem for words, as if it was an internal debate to say one thing before you would give your genuine thoughts and your upfront honesty was something he welcomed. He noticed the flush to your cheeks and nose, perhaps from the bit of cold in the night air mixed with your passion for science fiction, which he had not expected, and that was the moment he stepped in to kiss you. 

You seemed to meld against him with a soft familiarity to his touch. He loved how your expression brightened when he took your hand and how you moved to keep with his strides towards the car he called for. Aemond waited with bated breath when you paused at the car door, watching when you leaned forward and it exaggerated the curves your dress complemented. He would have followed you to the ends of the earth, but you only asked him to come upstairs. 

The next morning, Aemond woke with your curled so perfectly against his chest, his silver hair between your fingertips. He did not move because he did not want to wake you and allow this tranquil moment to end. You were cute when your eyes fluttered open to take in your surroundings and he handed you your glasses. 

You seemed to not want him to leave and he stayed until Sunday. Even then you hesitated to let him go and he made sure to follow up with you, just a simple text that thanked you for the lovely weekend. He followed to ask when you would be available and was surprised when he did not get even an emoji for a response. 

Aemond waited before sending another text, but when he saw he had been left on read, he let it be. Maybe you thought the weekend was a mistake? Perhaps you had not enjoyed yourself like he assumed you had? 

The abrupt end confused him, until he received an alert from Amazon, suggesting a new book release from an author he made sure to follow. 

Your pseudonym, an anagram of your first and last name. 

He read Hazy Shades of Spring in one sitting and knew he had to see you again. 

“Hello, professor,” Aemond stepped into your office. “If you have a moment, I came to seek out your expertise on a matter.”

Your expression was stunned, your lips parted for a moment and your cheeks rosy from his severe gaze, his one sapphire eye glinting in the office light. “Yes, Aemond, hello,” you struggled for the greeting. “Please, sit down. How may I help you?” 

There was the probability of running into him on campus, but you had not expected for him to come directly to your office. Your eyes could not help but drink in his lithe figure, the grace of his movements as he seated himself in the chair across from your desk. His expression would have been stoic except for the slight upwards curl of his lips, amused by your flustered state. 

“I had some questions in regards to one's penumbra rights,” he began, watchful of your reaction with his deliberate words. “I think I could be a victim of unwarranted appropriation and I wonder how that would hold in the court of law?”    

You could feel the blood drain from your face and your tongue pressed against your bottom lip, your teeth biting as you brought it forward to try and relax your jaw. The gesture was subtle with your attempt to calm your nerves, but it was not missed from his intense gaze.

Aemond fucking smirked. 

Your eyes narrowed on him. “You would need undeniable proof of tort liability,” you began, your voice hoarse with your reply and you cleared your throat before continuing. “It would need to be undeniable that your likeness had been used without consent.” 

There was a pregnant pause; you refused to ask what he may or may not have and you watched the dimples line his cheeks with his knowing smile. “I believe I do have proof,” he finally said, reaching into his jean’s pockets and retrieving his phone. “It’s an ebook that was just released.” 

Oh, fuck. 

You force your features to relax and watch his screen light up, filled with text. “His mien is breathtaking, the sharp contours of his features-”

“That description could be used for any protagonist worth noting,” your voice interrupts, almost shrill; you find yourself standing on your side of the desk, your hands pressed on top to anchor you.

“Perhaps,” he replied, his eye flitted to you for a moment. Your breath came out slow through your parted lips, watching as he looked back at the screen and continued to read. “The severity of his gaze was offset by the sapphire stone-”

Your moves are quick and clumsy, coming around the desk and clasping your hands over his; your cheeks are flushed and you are bold with your stare. “Aemond,” you finally find your voice. “Why are you here? What do you want?”

There is a moment that his expression hardens, a flash of an emotion that is wiped away and instead his perpetual smirk returns to play at his lips. He pulled his hands away, pushing to stand while tucking his phone into his pocket.

You fall back as he takes a step towards you, his silver hair spilling forward when he leans forward to hold you attention. “I actually came for clarity,” his eye flits to your lips and he purses his own for a moment. “I had thought we had a lovely weekend together, but every reach out I attempted since had been left on read.” 

“Aemond,” you say his name with your exhale, breaking away and looking at the floor. 

His head tilts with a slight hum as he looks over your stance; your bottom is pressed to the edge of the desk and your arms stiff at your sides, with a hold on the profile that has your knuckles white with your grip, like you could not trust your idle hands.  

“I had thought,” he softened his tone. “I thought I had done something to offend you, or perhaps… you did not enjoy yourself, until…” you looked up and saw the glimmer of hope that danced through the aloof façade of Aemond Targaryen. He didn’t finish the thought and instead said,  “I also came here because I want to take you on a proper date, to go to an agreed location, where I will be punctual and we will have dinner together.” 

You cannot form words; your face is burning and you make a noise of disbelief, a mixture of a gasp with an almost laugh that stops in your throat by the touch of his warm palm to cup your cheek. His hold keeps you from looking away again, his stare intense. “I am telling you what I want, why I came here.” He leaned forward until the tip of his nose touched yours, the breath of his words fans your jawline and you can feel the ripple of goosebumps all over. “But if you are not interested, tell me now and I will stop. I will leave you alone.” 

You did not want him to leave you alone.

In fact, that weekend was on an endless loop in your mind. After he left, you began to write, fervently, and with every keystroke, you poured the intimate, delicious details into a transcript, hoping that when you sent it in, it would empty your mind of him.

It did not and Aemond consumed your thoughts. You remembered the ease of conversation, the comfort of his presence, and how you craved his touch, how alive you felt pinned under his steady gaze. 

Now he was in your office and his steady gaze was burning; you bit your bottom lip, your fervor basked in the flame of his stare, savoring the warmth that he exuded. His scent washed over you, just his proximity made your skin feel aflame. 

The moment ends when Aemond relaxes his stance, falling back a step, and only then did you react. Your hand touches the junction of his shoulder to his throat, your fingers curling around the back of his neck to bring his lips to yours. He welcomes your mouth with a lusty frenzy and you moan when you feel his tongue move to taste your mouth. 

He closes in on you, his thigh pushing your legs apart and his hand on your jaw to tilt your head, moving to ghost his lips on the column of your neck until they reach your ear. “I love that you are a woman of action,” his husky tone and words tickle your skin. “But, remember, I require verbal consent.” 

Your hands move to his jawline, your right hand hovering and careful to not quite touch. “Yes, Aemond, please,” you beg him, your eyes wide. “I wanted to reply but I…” 

He interrupts your words with another kiss and he is hungry to taste you again. Your arm wraps around his neck and the other hand is pressed against his solid chest. His hands move to follow the curves of your hips and wrap around to cup below your ass, bringing you flush against him.

Your hands drop to unbutton your jeans and you feel his warm palms slip into the waistband of both, pulling your underwear as he peels you bare. He presses against you, lifting to set you on the desk edge before kneeling in front of you and unlacing each Converse shoe. Aemond sets them aside and returns to grab the fabric to pull it off; you burn from his stare and he leans to kiss the inside of your knee, his lips trailing your thighs and his hand pulling himself to stand again. 

You watch him bring two slender fingers to his mouth and wet them with his tongue, before they dip between your thighs. A gasp spills from your kiss-swollen lips when he touches you with familiarity, following the crease of your wet folds and the slow curl of his finger inside you. 

He watches your response, the arc of your back with the rub of his fingertips in your velvet walls until you mewl his name. Aemond hums, a smile to his lips, and adds a second finger, continuing the same come hither motion to that same sweet spot. His wrist shifts, allowing his thumb to press against the nub above with ample pressure and you moan loudly to his touch. Aemond continues his ministrations until he feels you clenching; there is a lewd sound of your wet heat and how his fingers continue to fuck you through your climax, until you whimper from the overstimulation. 

You look at him through lidded eyes, still on the curtails of your release; he licks his fingers clean with a grin, his gaze narrowing on you. “Is it better than the book?” 

Your look hardens and you push from the desk, desperate to pull his shirt over his head and the fall of his silver tresses tickle your face; your cardigan falls to the ground, your fitted shirt follows. He is still smug when you place your hands on his chest and push for him to fall back into the chair, your touch falling to unbutton his jeans. 

Aemond lifts his hips to bring it down enough, his hand wrapping around the base of his member. Your mouth waters at the sight and you step to straddle the chair, lowering yourself so he can line with your entrance before you sink further.  

You moan as he fills your velvet walls and he wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into your neck and allowing you a moment to adjust to his size. With slow breaths, your nails bite into his shoulders and you press onto the balls of your feet to rise and lower onto his length.

There is a soft echo in the office with the lewd noises, the suction of your cunt to take him in and your wanton moans when he begins to thrust upwards, meeting your motion. He presses his lips against your ear with the hot whisper, “Stop clenching or I won’t last.” 

You almost purr from the sensation, turning your head to find his lips. “You’re fine,” your voice is breathless. “I’m on the pill.” 

He stills and you look to see his pupil blown, taking you in; without a word, his hands grip into the soft flesh of your ass and he moves to lift you. You squeak your surprise, your legs quick to wrap his waist as he takes a step towards the desk; the polish wood is cool to the touch when he sets you down, reaching behind you to clear away the clutter and laying you back on the desktop, positioning you until you are nearly folded in half. 

This new angle has you a mewling mess of tears, the flutter of your cunt encourages his fingers to bruise into your hips with a brutal pace until you see stars. 

You can feel the twitch of his cock and a low, guttural groan from the back of his throat with his peak. Aemond leans forward, his forehead damp and pressed to yours, his breath warm with his exhale until it evens again. 

He looks and notices a box of kleenex, reaching for it and is careful to clean the mess. You sit up, still feeling the trough of the waves of your release tingling over, your hand moving to pull the hair tie and your fingers comb out the braid.

Aemond rightens his jeans, but does not button them; instead, he looks at you, another hum as he reaches to cup your face, bringing his lips to your forehead and then tilting your head back to find your lips. You stare at him a moment, warm from his touch and also shy at the realization you are still very much naked. 

“What now?” You ask, pushing to stand.

He pulls you against his bare chest and your heart flutters from his warmth. “Depends,” he murmurs and you pull back to look up at him. “Which restaurant did you want to go to?”

[osamusriceballs]

Kinktober Day 25 <3

Iwaizumi x striptease

Warnings: NSFW, fem reader

Words: ~ 1,4 k

Kinktober Masterlist II -> Next day

"You're so fucking hot."

A low groan escapes his lips as his hips arch into yours while you straddle his lap. You continue to kiss his neck, your hands gently resting on his shoulders to maintain your balance on his muscular thighs. Athletic trainer? You almost snort. He looks more like an athlete himself. Iwaizumi's hands are restless, alternating between gripping your hips to sensually thrust into you and exploring the curves and contours of your body.

"You too," you sheepishly look up and smile at him, your cheeks warming as you admire his attractive face up close. The intense eye contact continues for a few moments, with both of you remaining silent, only the sound of your soft breaths filling the room.

That is until you can't resist any longer and begin to squirm on his lap. "Come here." He tilts his head and easily connects his lips with yours, much to your relief. You feel yourself melting into the kiss, savoring the soft caress of his lips against yours and the gentle increase of pressure. You moan as his tongue grazes your lower lip, silently requesting more access, to which you eagerly oblige by parting your lips.

Your passionate make-out session is suddenly interrupted by the loud music coming from the closed front door, undoubtedly from the new neighbors next door. You pull back slightly at the noise, just enough to notice a slight frown on his face, and he sighs deeply while squeezing your hips. Since the new neighbors moved in next door, they've made a habit of playing loud music every Saturday night, making you feel like you're in a crowded club. Their music is usually energetic and intense, probably used for home workouts, but tonight's music is different. It's a slow, sensual melody that makes you want to sway your hips as you cling to Iwaizumi.

You both exchange glances while the music plays, and his initial frown quickly dissipates along with your disappointment of the music ruining your sweet moment. "Dance for me?" He suddenly breaks the silence with a gleam of excitement in his eyes, his happiness evident as he gazes expectantly at you. "Really?" you hesitantly ask, feeling somewhat perplexed by the unexpected request.

"Hmm. The music is perfect for this." He grins, his expression so tender and affectionate that you give him one last peck on the lips, pressing your lips against his long enough to elicit a groan from him before you finally get up.

Your movements are initially stiff as you're not quite sure how to proceed, but as you notice his leg bouncing in anticipation, you decide to go with the flow. You're convinced that you can't go wrong; Iwaizumi has adored, praised, and cherished your body so many times that you can't imagine him ever being disappointed in anything you do.

You slowly dance to the music, gently swaying your body while maintaining eye contact with him. You do a little twirl, just enough to let your skirt flutter a bit, earning an approving hum from him. "Always so fucking pretty for me," he runs his hands over his pants and takes a deep breath, his eyes tracking every movement of your body.

"What should I take off first, Hajime?" you ask, batting your eyelashes as seductively as possible. His leg stops bouncing at your question, and he quickly licks his lips before leaning forward ever so slightly. "You're letting me choose?" You feel a shiver run down your spine at his expectant gaze, your body growing warmer as you stand before him, swaying to the music.

"Your shirt. I think it would look better on the floor." He grins, watching as you shift your weight from one foot to the other, slowly reaching for the hem of your shirt. "You don't like it, then?" You ask with a teasing smile, and he immediately shakes his head. "No, I love it! It's my favorite color on you." You raise your eyebrows at his statement, mentally noting to wear this color more often.

"Oh? Should I keep it on, then?" You let your hands fall to your sides, ensuring that you continue to sway to the music and let your hands wander down your sides.

"Baby," he groans in frustration, his hands caressing the fabric of his pants once more, and you decide to give in. You bring your hands back to the hem of your shirt and slowly lift it. You expose inch by inch, his gaze fixed on the movement of your hands as it trails down your chest, leaving your upper body clad only in an almost see-through lacy bra. Once you've finally pulled the shirt over your head, you hear his breath hitch. You know how much he adores the bra and the matching panties, that's why you chose to wear them today to surprise him - the perfect choice as it seems.

"What next?" You ask, your voice slightly higher pitched than usual, conveying how hot and bothered he's making you feel with the way he watches you with his bright green eyes, much like a predator eyeing its prey, ready to devour. "The skirt." His response is so quick that you know he thought about it while you were undressing, but that was exactly the effect you aimed for: to stimulate his imagination and to make his mind go crazy. You sway your hips just a bit slower, maintaining eye contact to intensify the tension while you unzip your skirt from the side, making sure to caress all of your exposed skin. The fabric falls down to your feet as you pull it over your hips, leaving you in a matching set of lace, almost bare in front of him. You don't feel the cold at all, not when Iwaizumi's gaze is so fiery and intense. The bulge in his pants is clearly visible, and you're relieved that the dark material of your panties hides the damp spot, which is nearly invisible from the outside.

"The bra next?" you tilt your head while you speak, your fingers fumbling with the cups of your bra as you wait for his response.

"Not yet. I want to savor you a bit. Do a twirl for me, love." You hold your breath for a moment and quickly nod, presenting your body from various angles as he watches attentively, his cock almost throbbing at the sight of you dancing so seductively only for him. Only for his eyes.

You keep your eyes on him when you bring your hands the the clasp of your bra, and this time he does not interfere. You fumble just for a second with it before you manage to unhook it, your body shivering in excitement. You let the fabric run down your shoulders, the movement feeling like a caress, and you find yourself wishing that he would finally touch you. That he would run his hands down your shoulders and kiss you and show you how much he loves you.

The bra joins the other clothes on the ground, and you let your hands roam along your body, touching yourself softly while you dance to the music. "You can't even imagine how sexy you look right now, love. So fucking sexy." He runs his hand through his dark hair, swallowing hard and raking his gaze over your body. He sounds so turned on, lust evident on his face, the tension in the room almost unbearable at this point.

You bite your lip and bring your hands to the hem of your panties to finish the show, but Iwaizumi moves quickly and catches your wrists before you can pull them down. You stare at him surprised, your eyes widened while you wordlessly let him pull you towards the bed until your back meets the soft mattress and he hovers over you. His hands go to your ankles and spread your legs, your core throbbing at this action, aching to be touched when he makes you feel even more exposed in your current position. Your jaw drops when he leans down and presses a kiss on your stomach, his teeth grazing at the lace of your panties, and you squirm under him when his hot breath meets your skin. A grin adorns his lips when he pulls the material back, just enough until it loudly snaps against your body.

"Just lay back and let me do the rest, love. I'll take care of this myself."

[clover-46]

the writers on here making the miguel fics need to remember his fangs inject paralytic venom hes not a real vampire it was just a joke in the movie 😭

oh but i still want him to bite me don’t get me wrong idgaf if they have venom 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️

[seraphdreams]

hi i was wondering what do you think about rockstar!baji?? let me hear your thoughts 🥺 (only if you want)

i have so many thoughts on rockstar baji i don’t even know where to start !

i just think of meeting rockstar!kei at one of his shows, you’re sitting front row because your friend insisted on getting good seats since he’s apart of her favorite band . . . she’s too focused on the main vocalist to even notice the sexy raven-haired male playing the drums . . he’s just too mesmerizing you can’t take your eye off him . the way his hair clings to his forehead with sweat from how hot the stage lights are, or his occasional chants into the microphone clipped to the drum set, his voice is so deep !! she’s lucky enough to have scored such good tickets because you’re even awarded a meet ‘n greet with the members . . . and you go straight for baji, asking him to sign one the albums you just bought . .

he usually doesn’t get much attention from fans but he’s taken a liking to you just as you do to him. you start showing up to more of his shows, and he recognizes you too . . . thinks you’re the prettiest in the crowd so of course he lets you come back stage with him after some time. he just wants to get to know you, that’s it !!

who would’ve thought getting to know him meant lying face down ass up in the tour bus with his bandmates just a couple few feet away. he’s so in love with the way your cunt continuously sucks him in and how you’re creaming all over his cock, your essence dripping down to his balls . you’re the cutest thing he’s met! wants to keep you all to himself . . !

it goes on like this for a while until you’re both ready to make things official. he takes you everywhere with him — to practice, to mic tests, even introduces you formally to his bandmates. they already know your name, it’s hard to forget when baji’s always groaning it in the back of the bus 🥺

[merakiui]

i'm writing a self-indulgent rollo fic and i only intended for it to be something short and simple without any intricate symbolism, but now i'm looking up bible verses regarding obsession and religious imagery and seeing which french sweet i can compare rollo and reader's relationship to......

i'm in deep. T_T my search history is currently: "what does [insert thing here] mean in the context of the bible?" "bible verses about lust" "bible verses about obsession" "moral of cat and mouse in partnership" "types of fillings for stuffed croissants" etc etc orz

[camellcat]

thinking about angel!Liam just absolutely fucking decking demon!Theo

Liam is, at first, completely horrified, right? like, oh, dear heavens, he just punched someone! that's not very holy of him! ...but also, Theo is a demon... surely he's just... acting within his angelic duties... to thwart demon wiles... yeah...?

and Theo cannot decide whether to laugh his ass off because he just got an angel to punch someone or start panicking that maybe he's pushed Liam too far and he'll be discoperated or smth. which ofc he won't be bc Liam (as much as he loath to admit it) does not hate Theo, but they are not at the stage in which Theo is certain of that!!

but once Theo gets him back it (dreadfully, in Liam's opinion, and cruelly giddily in Theo's) becomes a Thing.

[drizztdohurtin]

also, my ask box is always open for recommendations but I can't make any promises on a long-form post. not necessarily requests but if there's a suggestion I'd love to hear it, otherwise I'd be open to “requests” for like.. really short hc posts?

[thesistersarcheron]

"Top overused words in SJM's—"

it's obvious some of you bitches don't know what figurative language is

[kiwikipedia]

hey COD Fandom! It’s great that y’all are enthusiastic about these boys but please remember to tag only the characters who are necessary and to use the read more function for your fics especially if its smut, im seeing a lot of spam tags and long posts!

It’s great to see everyone having fun, but, for example, if I’m looking through the COD Nikolai tag for content, or looking for Gaz or Price content in their tags, it’s a bit of a drag to scroll through six Ghost HC posts and Smutfics that have nothing to do with Nikolai, Gaz, or Price at all.

The sudden surge of COD work is absolutely amazing, but Tumblr’s tagging system exists for a reason and so does the read more function— please use it.

[c-e-d-dreamer]

I would like all of Tumblr to know that I am being BULLIED! Bullied, you hear me! These people who claim to be my friends are actually BULLIES 😤

[hhawks]

(I used to be hooked on the paci so I don’t think it’s that weird? 🫣 but also I’m not into ageplay or anything like that so ppl pls don’t come at me 😭)

but deffo eren, levi, nanami, gojo, Bakugou, deku, and aizawa 😵‍💫 (just off the top of my head!) and they can always be sorted into two categories.

The mean :(( little growl “the only way I can shut you up, huh?stop being a brat, you wanted your mouth full and I gave it to you so suck on it.”

Or the condescending coo to your blissed out face. “oh it’s okay baby, I know it’s so good isn’t it? just suck on your dummy, I’ll make you feel even better.”

- 🕸️ anon (if it’s not taken pleaseee 😙)

i want to SCREAM AND CRY AND BITE MY FIST. NANAMI? NANAmi.

just the thought of gentle but stern nanami kento laying his little baby down, smoothing her hair before saying, "open your mouth, angel," and fitting the paci inside i'm fucking dead. he's get you one of those really cute ones too, pink or white with little sanrio characters on them or something god i wanna cum on him.

and he'd use them for everything. oh my god everything. kissing your forehead sweetly as you suck on your pacifier, looking up at him with big dumb eyes waiting for his next move. settling between your legs and asking you softly, "spread them for daddy, okay? can you do that?" and when you do he kisses the inside of each thigh and praises you so sweetly.

hooks the sides of your panties in his thumbs and pulls down gently, helping you lift your ass to get them out of the way (and knowing him they'd be the pretty kinds. white with a little pink bow. or florals.) before eating you out. and god he'd be so generous with his praise. always telling you how good you taste, what a well behaved girl you are, how pretty you look sucking on your pacifier while he's doing these dirty things to you. kento sucks on your clit and spits on your pussy just to hear you whine around that pacifier.

"feels good?" he murmurs, just loud enough for you to hear. "does it feel good, angel? tell daddy." and you can't speak, just have to whine and whimper and nod. "so cute. so lovely sucking on your pacifier. my little baby girl, huh? all you're good for is feeling good?"

and it's so degrading but the way he talks makes you melt inside. makes your eyes roll back and your legs curl around his head as he sucks on your puffy clit, as he drags his fingers along your clit. dhjkshfkjdshf i want to suck on a pacifier.

[bitchdafuqyousay]

im bitching again

I'm once again trying to look through a piece of media's tag. n its fucking Clogged n Cluttered n Flooded with x reader shit. I'm specifically looking up a specific ship of two characters n I've seen more "this post contains blocked tags" than I've seen actual content of what I'm fucking looking for. plus, a lot of the shit isn't tagged right. so I've got __ x reader tags fucking blocked, but I'm still seeing it more than actual goddamn content cause instead of tagging it as x reader they're tagging the shit with the ship I'm looking for, they're tagging it __ x __ so it still fucking comes up. its annoying the actual fuck outta me like christ alive. terrorizing fandom tags n taking over actual fucking content

[bylovesfirstkiss]

you guys just don't know how to write angst anymore. putting people who say they like "toxic yaoi" in my dni cause they have no idea how to actually write toxicity

[optiwashere]

I'm a simple woman. Shadowheart + collar = Happy. I need to write more of it specifically, instead of it just being a background detail that she's wearing Asheera's collar. As much as I enjoy the hat tip to it, the extreme level of trust that sort of exchange requires is literally life-changing.