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whorrorbellee · 2 months

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ANGELS OF PORN

DARK! Aemond x pornstar! Reader

$10,000 LOOKING FOR DOED EYED PRETTY GIRL WHO WANTS TO MAKE A QUICK BUCK. ONE TIME PORNO, MUST BE OKAY WITH LIGHT SLAPPING, ROUGH SEX AND CHOKING. SEND A PHOTO.

WARNINGS; rough sex, slapping, choking, major character death. blood, oral? mood board

He's watching you undress in the back of the RV through the mirror, It's all hazy. Pulling on white socks, frills spilling over the brown couch in the back. ‘Trailer trash scum’ is what Aegon said, pressing white knuckles into the steering wheel, as he huffed onto a cigarette. He couldn't wait to see your blood spill over the pretty whites. He's not religious but he could see himself worshipping your body, under tight lips and pretty prayers. Rotten. Groomed into a cult over Myspace and 4chan. He piqued his own interest after seeing the gore videos of pretty girls' necks slashed open in orgasm. La petite mort. He wants to see how far Aegon is gonna take it. And now you're living and breathing in front of him. Thick ringlets, soft perfumed skin, He starts to wonder if he can go through with it. You smile at him as you catch his eye.

Ten grand for a porno on Craigslist, an hour after the ad had come up your pretty picture had been burned into the cornea of Aemonds eye. The Perfect slut. Pink-lipped, wide-eyed doll. Picked up at the gas station. He watched you hum into a cigarette, your eyes trailing over him. He waited for the disgust to glaze across your eyes, but you pulled him into a handshake. Winking as you hopped into the RV with a sway of hips. Aegon only grinned up at him. Gapped teeth. He ran his hand over his shaved head. Stretching his arms out and then pulling straights out of his cargo.

You run your hand over Aemonds shoulder, head dipping into the crook of his neck and pulling his lighter into your hand. He swallows, you watch his shoulders fall and he unzips his Adidas jacket as the aircon falters. He shrugs it off. You light your cigarette and then stare into Aegons eyes, crinkled at the corners he's smirking to himself. You're thinking he's ex-army, wearing a tribal band around his arm, smooth and precise movements.

“What you gonna do with’the money?” Aegon mutters. His fingers are pointed as he takes the ciggie into his mouth, lips snarling as the smoke escapes, you watch the muscles in his arm flex.

Your glossed lips part, “put’a bad man away”

“Get a lawyer, huh?” Aegon hums, he rolls the window down, and spits, throwing the butt out the window with it. You watch Aemonds face. He stares back at you through a half-lidded eye, you smirk down at him. Watching his fingers clench at his hoodie.

“Som’thin like that” you smile, and you pull away from Aemond, lighting your own cigarette. He takes a slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling smoke through parted lips. His gaze never leaving yours, the silence between you heavy. Aemond reaches a hand out to the radio, Dolly Parton filling the silence. He looks up to the mirror, eye fixed on your body as you walk away. Hips shifting the denim shorts you're wearing. You lean over the counter and pull out some mascara from your bag. The RV sways on the uneven road. Lurching to the side, Aemond grips onto the seat and watches you unfazed through the mirror. You smile, shiny white teeth, lopsided grin as you apply blush to the end of your nose, his lip curling into a smirk at the sight of your infectious grin. He finds it amusing, the contrast between the innocent action and the situation you're in.

Aegon pulls into the 24-hour Diner by the highway, The neon sign buzzing like trapped flies. He watches as Aegon shuts off the ignition. The hum of the engine dying out. The Diner is half empty, the bell ringing against the sound of patrons chattering in the night. Aemond can feel the anticipation building in his chest. They had discussed a last meal before the cameras had switched on, and the time had come quicker than expected. Heat pools in Aemond's stomach, and his hands shake with excitement. Aegon opens the driver's door and steps out, the night air rushing in with him. He stretches, his shirt rides up, and exposes the lower part of his back as his muscles tense. Aemond's eyes flick back to you. He watches you watching Aegon through the mirror. He can't help but feel a twinge of annoyance, a brief pang of possessiveness that he quickly shoves down. You smile at him, stepping out of the RV. Cool air tousling your hair. Skin bright against the neon sign. He follows you out. Gravel crunching under his shoe.

Warm cheap food fills your nose. Your shoes squeak against the linoleum tiles as you slip into a red booth. You're bathed in yellow light, pressing shoulder blades into the cool leather. Aegon follows sitting opposite you, Aemond sliding next to him. You run your hand over the sticky table, waiting for someone to take your order. Lips pouting. A waitress approaches the table, her expression bored and tired, but her eyes widen as she looks at you, taking in your looks and the way you're dressed. Aemond can see the way her cheeks flush slightly, the way she fumbles with her pen as she turns to the three of you. "What can I get ya'll?" She asks, her voice a southern drawl.

Your head tilts to the side, eyes running over the food kept behind glass, “A slice of that cherry pie and some coffee please” you smile sweetly.

She turns to Aegon, his fingers drumming against the table. Her eyes flickered over the tight muscles under his green shirt. “For you hun?”

“Bacon and egg sandwich extra runny” he grunts, eyebrow raising.

Her eyes turn to Aemond, he orders an omelet and a coffee, voice low and soft. The waitress leaves, feet pattering against the floor as she hurries off. Aegon lets out a low whistle, eyes raking across your body.

“You're just as pretty as your picture aren't you?” Aegon mutters, his head nodding at you. He's practically salivating over you, eyes hungry. You look at Aemond watching as he clenches his jaw tighter. Aegon laughs, a sound deep and guttural. He leans across the booth, his hands wrapping around the edges, his face just inches away from yours. He's invading your space, but you don't flinch, your expression bored, almost amused. He sticks his tongue out, letting it linger over his bottom lip as he grins. "Sweet little thing like you, huh?" He coos.

“I'm not that sweet’can tell you that now” you smirk, eyelashes batting across your cheeks.

You watch as Aegon’s grin widens he lets out a low chuckle. “Bet you taste real sweet though” his eyes dance over your body. Aemond clenches his hands under the table, knuckles turning white. He notices the way you handle his crude advances. Not bothered by dirty innuendos.

The waitress sets down the food without care, plates loudly clattering against the table top. Aegon barely acknowledges her, gaze still fixed on you. You stare ahead, lips pursed. You sip on your coffee unbothered "Ain't gonna eat, darlin'?" Aegon asks, finally breaking his gaze to look at his food. His tone is laced with an underlying darkness, a hint of danger. Aemond can tell he's getting impatient, his fingers drumming against the table.

“I like getting fucked on an empty stomach” you smile. Aemond pauses, fork midway to his mouth he's barely digested your words before Aegon snorting with laughter. Slapping his knee at the comment. Eyes glittering with sick excitement. You're starting to get real bored with Aegon, it's one crude comment after another. The pattern has already been memorised in your head. You roll your eyes. “I'm gonna go to the ladies” you slide out the booth hand brushing over Aemond’s shoulder. He watches you slip to the side to let a lady exit the toilets, then you duck behind the door yourself.

Aegon turns back to his meal. Shoving bacon and egg into his mouth. Yolk escapes the corner of his lips. He chews obnoxiously. “Cant wait to fuckin kill’her” he mutters, sly grin playing on his lips. “Make our own fucking movie for those sick freaks” Aemond only nods in return.

“Too bad Reaper couldn't make it”

You walk back to the booth, shrugging on a small knit jumper. Aegon slaps down bills on the table, they exit the dinner and you trail behind them as you light another cigarette. Orange embers glowing in the darkness. Aegon leads the way, keys jangling in his hand. You step into the RV, air humid. Aegon follows, Aemond shuts the door behind him. He feels his heart thudding against his chest.

The RV engine rumbles to life, and the vehicle lurches forward. Headlights pierce through the darkness, bathing the road in a pale glow. The trees on either side of the road cast long, sinister shadows against your face as Aegon drives further into the slip road of the forest.

You gaze up at Aemond, his dark gaze locking with yours. He watches you intently. The RV is quiet except for the hum of the engine and the soft sound of you exhaling smoke from your cigarette. The engine falls silent, as you pull up onto gravel, Aegon is the first to get up, seat creaking as he stands. Aemond waits, his muscles tensed, his eyes fixed on you. You extinguish your cigarette in the small ash-tray, the smoke curling up towards the low ceiling. You seem unfazed by the situation, your eyes still fixed on Aemond as you rise from the sofa. Aegon turns on the headlights and the area is flooded with a harsh, artificial light, he's already opening the rv door. The cool night air flooding into the vehicle. The light from outside casts a rectangle of light on the carpeted floor, illuminating the space in a pale, artificial glow.

You're standing in the middle of a small clearing, the trees like black sentinels around you. You look like a creature of the night, the shadows dancing across your face. Angelic even.He grins, his eyes roving over you like a wolf sizing up its prey, watching you run and strip off layers of clothing, tossing them aside. Standing there in nothing but your white lace underwear, your body fully exposed in the harsh light.

Aemond watches from outside the RV, his eyes growing dark as he takes in the sight. His jaw clenches, his hands balling into fists. He knows what's coming, he feels his blood boil in excitement. Blood thirsty. Aemond moves towards you, his hands grazing over your bare skin. His touch is gentle, almost reverent, as if he's touching something he shouldn't. Despite the situation, he can't help but feel a sense of possession, a need to protect you. He steps behind you, his chest brushing against your back. He places his hands on your hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. “Are we rollin’ yet?” you ask. Pulling loose hairs away from your face.

Aemond's face disappears behind a black ski mask, his features obscured in shadow. He pulls the fabric taut, making sure it covers every inch of his face. He looks different now, the mask making him seem dangerous, savage. His eyes burn with a cold, detached anger, a stark contrast to his gentle touch on your skin. You pant against his touch, mewling in soft brushes. Turning to face him.

“We are now sweetheart” Aegon mutters, you watch his eyes disappear behind a vhs camcorder.

Aemond's breath hitches as your lips caress his neck. He can feel your hot breath on his skin, sending a shiver down his spine. His hands on your hips tighten, his fingers digging into your soft flesh.

The camera recording every gasp and sigh. You're putting on a show for it, for Aegon, for Aemond.

Your hand slides beneath Aemond's wife beater, your fingers caressing his bare skin. His grip on you tightens, his muscles taut under your touch. A soft moan escapes his lips, muffled by the ski mask.

You smile up at him. Flashy shiny whites. He runs a hand over your cheek. Your face presses into it. And then he's yanking his hand back, snapping against you cheek in a sharp movement. Your head is snapped to the side. You look up and smile at him through wet eyelashes. A silent plea for more. Your cheek is hot against his palm.

“Shit that's hot”, Aegon mutters. You don't look at him, all your attention is on Aemond. You watch his mask shift, muscles moving under the black fabric. His face moves closer to yours, your arms wrap around his neck, peppering kisses over black cotton, you feel him smirk against your lips. His hands grab at your wrists from behind and suddenly he's wrestling you to the ground. You whine, pressed into the mud, you feel aemond’s body from behind. Belt buckle stabbing into your lower back. Your feet kick upwards. His leg pins you to the ground. You squirm beneath him, your ass grinding into his crotch. Aemond lets out a soft hiss. Your every movement driving him wild. You feel his body responding to your touch. His cargos grow tighter and you feel his hardness press into you from behind. You smirk. He fights the urge to grind down on you.

“Dirty, Fucken’slut huh” he mutters, his hands tracing your spine, pushing you into the grass. Your head turns to the side, revealing a sly grin. You hum in agreement. Growing limp in his arms, and then you pout up the camera, eyebrows raising, your lip shakes. He watches Aegon. He clenches his jaw, watching in anticipation, chest rising quicker as you bite your lip up at him.

“Keep goin”Aegon barks out. The red light flashes towards you. You feel Aemonds grip grow tighter.

“Are you gonna fuck me or what?” You taunt. Your hips jerk backwards, Brushing against his hard cock “ I know you want to” you sing out, it's like a melody to his ears. He flips your body in response. Back hitting the grass. Your hair lays out like a halo behind you. You run your hands over his chest and press kisses into his neck. Watching as he unbuckles his belt hastley. You nip and bite at warm flesh, pulling your legs from underneath him, brushing past his dick. He lets out a soft hiss. Pulling your body towards him. He sheds your panties and bra. Groping at the flesh he's unveiled. You look so radiant like this. Skin glowing under the headlights of the RV. The tension is palpable between you. He imagines slicing through your skin with a knife and burying his hand inside to feel the heat of your heart. Feel its last beats drum through your chest.

Not yet.

His cock runs through your wetness, your back arches against him, feeling the head of his dick knock against your clit, his hand runs up the column of your chest and settles on your neck. He pushes into you, slitting you apart with his thickness, you hum at the intrusion. Wide mouth, eyes closed. His hand squeezes at the base of your neck, you feel the blood flow to your head lessen. Dizzy in his hold. He moves slowly. Torturously slow, head knocking against your cervix. You wince. And then feel his cock slide against the gummy walls. He's quicker driving into you with such force you feel what little air you have get knocked out of you. He grunts against your neck, your eyes water. Feeling the camera closer to your face. You fake a moan. Running your hand down the side of your face and then down Aemonds back scratching at taunt muscles

Laid out like a sacrificial lamb pliant and malleable under his hands. The type of innocence that bites back. “Fuck” you moan out from under him, griping him tightly. You feel him pulse. Hips snapping, into yours, your face reddens. His vice grip around your neck softens, and he pushes two fingers inside your mouth,

. Aegon watches as he smears spit around your face, trailing the wetness down your neck and the valley of your breasts.

“Shit, tight fucking pussy”Aemond moans, low and deep. You're turned on your back, and he slams himself back into you, arm around your waist the other makes its way to your neck, back arching till you're propped up against his chest, head lulling in the crooks of his neck. Sweaty bodies against each other,You tighten around him as he coos at your whines. “You close huh”

You smile against him. “yeah, fuck so good” it rolls of your toungue so quickly, you squeak. He grips your throat and you watch as Aegon nods at him. You turn to Aemond staring into his eyes. His hips falter. Eyes shutting quickly but his hands don't leave you. Grunting as he comes, And then you look back to Aegon eyes running over his body, he's hard. Your eyebrow raises at him. “You gonna let me suck your dick?” you bat your lashes watching Aegon smirk. Aemonds hands tighten on your body at your words, hands slipping down to rub your clit in tight circles. Your eyes roll backwards, body shaking with blissful pleasure. You come down from your high. Aemonds hand runs down your sweaty face, his eyes darken as they watch Aegon pull his cock out from his cargos. You crawl over to him. Eyes on the camera. You kneel at his feet, the cameras passed into Aemonds hands. It just cuts off his face.

You run your hands over his body, pressing kisses down his pelvis. Then you shrug his cargos half down his legs, he beacons Ameond closer with the camera as you stare up at him. Running your tongue against the length of his cock. He pushes your head closer to his dick. Aemond watches as your hands grab at something, but your face remains stotic, too involved with Aegon's dick. He clenches his jaw and suddenly Aegons falling backwards onto the grass, something running down his leg and then he spots it. Shiny silver.

The buck Aegon chose a week ago in the hunting store. His eyes widen, his hands falter with the camera. He watches you straddle him, you look back at Aemond, your face stern. “Come on, keep the tape rolling I thought you wanted to make a snuff film” your head cocks to the side running your hand over Aegon's lips. You smile down at him. Your hand reaches behind you to the leather handle of the knife. He yelps as it slides to the side in his skin. And then you're yanking it side to side,out from his leg. He whimpers in pain, hands going out to grab at your hair. You push the knife to his neck, Aemond stands moving closer to you. Camera shaking in his hand. He's so bewildered by what's before him he doesn't even think to knock you off his brother's lap. Not that he'd want to.

He watches the blood spurt out of his leg angrily,“Who the fuck are you?” Aegon gasps. Your mouth curves into a smile. The knife traces the column of his neck , over his Adam's apple. You watch thin dribbles of blood mark up the white expanse of his neck. Your body shadows over his face. Perfect silhouette encased in a halo of light. “Aemond do something!” his eyes flick towards his brother. And your hand grips his chin harshly pulling him up until the knife is digging into his neck.

“Your brother is too pussy drunk to help.” you look into Aegons eyes, perfect swirls of purple, his face pale and sweaty, “Isn't it so sweet? He would have thrown a punch if I asked, hours before I let him have a taste” you chuckle at your words. Reaching behind you to plunge fingers into the open wound. He screams out at the intrusion. Tears escaping his eyes. You push a finger into your mouth and then pull it out with a pop “see i’d lie and say you tasted so sweet, real sweet. But you’re fucking rotten” you spit.

You stand. Running your hands through your hair. The movement is soft and innocent in contrast to what you've done, you sigh. Turning to Aemond, your eyes softening. Your hand peels off the ski mask. Your hand smooths his hair back tenderly, “Like we planned, yeah?” you smile and then your hand traces over the scar he was left. He smiles, eyes closing at your touch. Hand reaching out to pull the knife from your hand.

“You fucking planned this!” Aegon shouts at the realisation, his face is pale at the blood loss, and Aemond drops the camera in response. He turns to you, capturing your lips quickly. He can taste the blood on his tongue. Warm, metallic. You're right, he is rotten. He smirks and turns to his brother. He grips the knife tightly in his hand. You press a kiss to his shoulder and them watch him stalk over to him.

The camera is heavy in your hands as you lift it from the grass. You kneel next to Aegon. Aemond grips at his hair pulling him from the ground and then lets the knife cut through his skin like paper. You watch Aegon panic. His hands reaching out to stop the bleeding but they only fall into his lap. The blood falls like a red scarf. Coating the grass and his body like blanket. And then his eyes still. His lips left open in a wide panic. Aemond drops his body to the floor. Hand grasping for yours. He pulls you in for a kiss over his body. You feel him shake in euphoria. Hands running down the length of your bare body

He pulls away“ I don't want anyone touching you again” his hand leaves a bloody print against your cheek. “Got it, Reaper?”

You smirk up at him. “Yeah.”

You pull your hand towards your face, it still stinks of lye as much as you scrub at it. You inhale the cigarette, eyes glazing over to Aemond, one hand on the wheel. The other runs against the soft flesh of your thigh. You smile at his touch. Hand clasping as his own. The sun casts a honey light on his face, hair lighting up golden. The RV pulls up along the side of the road and he pounces on you like a dog. “Fuckin’ perfect, and all for me”

@spn-obession

#aemond one eye #aemond targaryen x reader #prince aemond #aemond targaryen #prince aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #dark!aemond #aemond fanfiction #aemond smut #dark!aemond x reader #modern!aemond

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vitaminkyeom · 26 days

Note

Congrats on 1k! 🥳 Wonwoo + Purple

PAIRING || Wonwoo x Female Reader

GENRES || Fluff, Established Relationship

WARNINGS || none

WORD COUNT || 0.6k

A/N || hi no amount of apologies can fix how late i am to your request but i hope you still enjoy this. and thank you so much! 1k followers event [if you want to be added to the event taglist send an ask!]

TAGLIST || @prpldahy @yoonzinokim @sea-moon-star @hanicore @alyssng

@weebotakuboy @aaniag @thepoopdokyeomtouched @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hrts4hanniehae

@athanasiasakuraa @doubleshoticedshakenespresso @asasilentreader @isabellah29 @mrswonwooo

@nonononranghaee @luv-uriboo @hoichi-02 @dinossaurz @winterbeartaehyungbestboy

@hyneyedfizz @jjeongddol @k-drama-adict @mnstxmnbb @escoupseu

@wonvsmile [if you want to be added to my taglist, fill in this form!]

[00:22]

“there you go!” wonwoo said, as he stuck the last of your purple glow-in-the-dark star sticker onto your ceiling. you smiled at your boyfriend sweetly before looking up at your bedroom ceiling. what was once a plain white ceiling, now greeted you with purple neon stars splattered all across the ceiling.

“oh, wonwoo!” you gushed, giving him a quick peck that caused a pink flush to faintly appear on his cheeks. you felt your heart squeeze at how adorable and shy he was even now, even though it was almost two years since the two of you had been dating. “thank you so, so much!”

“that’s okay, babe.” he said, with an equally shy smile. then beaming at you, he curled his arms to flex his biceps. “what’s the point of having a tall and strong boyfriend if i can’t help my princess when she needs me?”

now it was your time to blush as you rolled your eyes at him. talk about a shy boyfriend.

“shut up. i had to beg you to leave your game for just half an hour to help out your poor, short girlfriend.”

“hey, the fact that you made our bedroom pastel purple without asking me about it saddened me greatly, okay?”

“my bedroom.” you said, but you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at the corner of your lips. since you lived alone, most of the time wonwoo crashed into your room than you both did in his. the last thing you wanted was to see his traumatised roommate mingyu puke over his breakfast (you had been told wonwoo and you were ultra sweet when seated next to each other). “besides,” you pouted, “do you not like the pastel purple shade?”

true, maybe you had over done with, almost everything being either pastel purple or white but hey your bedroom now looked straight out of pinterest so that was something you needed an a+ for.

“of course not. i absolutely love anything that you do.” he pouted back at you before pulling you into him. your face collided into hs chest with a small ‘oof’ but you found yourself melting at his touch almost immediately as he wrapped his arms around you.

his warmth enveloped you and you nearly sighed from the bliss and calmness you felt.

maybe he was right. maybe you did need a tall and strong boyfriend who could give you such hugs.

that’s when you finally noticed his sweater colour. he was wearing a purple sweater. pastel purple at that.

how you had not realised it before was beyond you but you supposed with the entire redecoration of you room going on, it had completely slipped out of your mind what your boyfriend had chosen to wear all this time.

slowly, you peered up at him from his arms. he too looked down at you as he felt your breath on his face, smiling at you softly. you felt a rush of emotions flow through you as you smiled back, giggling a little. “hi.”

“hi, my love.” he whispered, before connecting both of your lips together for a second.

“you wore purple.”

“do you like it? i bought it for this occasion.”

“i love it.” you breathed against his lips, laughing at his goofiness. no matter how serious people claimed your boyfriend looked like, you knew he was silly deep inside.

“good. i’ll make sure our wedding decoartion is purple too, mrs. jeon.”

“make the wedding ring purple too then, mr jeon.”

#svthub #caratlibrary #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #seventen x reader #seventeen fluff #jeon wonwoo fluff #svt x reader #svt fluff #╼ 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐒 #fics.#asks.#[00:22].

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sansxfuckyou · 6 months

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karma's the judge

Summary: Clay learns that Viva is pink down to her very core- well, more of a magenta color right under her skin, the deeper into her flesh the more purple it gets.

Warnings: gore, near death, hospitals, agony, i cannot stress enough that this is not romantic, check Ao3 port for full tags

Authors Note: me and @ohposhers got talking, I'm legally not allowed to say anything else about the convo aside from the fact it inspired this fic. title from FØØL, specifically the INHUMAN remix. hope ya'll enjoy and if ya do consider dropping a like or reblog, or checkin' the Ao3 port.

It's only a mildly horrific sight for Clay to see.

He's lying actually.

The sound of the predator running off into the underbrush is still heavy in the air with cracking branches and rustling leaves. It echoes in his ears; that and the sound of Viva's laboured breathing. Her breath stutters as she wheezes, paw hovering over the bright blue shards in her chest and stomach. She's shredded in every sense including literal.

"C-Clay," Viva barely manages to get out, fat tears rolling down her face as agony surges through her. Neon magenta oozes out of rended flesh and seeps into fabric and slides down from her nose. Ears downturned and claws detracted, she's still in fight mode even though she should've ran with the rest of them.

Words are failing to form for Clay as he takes hasty, yet tentative, steps closer to his companion. Then she coughs, she sounds like death incarnate. Wet and shaky; phlegmy blood spills past her teeth and the gouges in her torso bubble up with her blood, the glass sinks deeper into her flesh. She's curling in on herself as she shudders and shakes and loose flesh trails on the dirt in stringy tendons. She grips for the shards to pull them out but even with adrenaline she's still fading fast. Her eyes flutter shut as the sharp edges slice her hands open to match the rest of her torn up body.

Viva falls limp and Clay is just frozen as he stares at their leader. Her chest rises and falls impossibly slow, she should be dead but she isn't and that gives just enough kick to get Clay to move and save her. Try to at least.

Clay drops down beside her and runs a paw across her wounds, checking the depth and the intensity aside from looking so bad it makes him feel nauseated. She shudders in her passed out state, tensing and flexing her claws against the unknown. The blood on his paws contrasts his own fur so much it makes him gag, the slimy texture of coalescing and cooling Pop Troll blood; it's lukewarm and drips but it's thick with bits of flesh. He wants to hurl as he shuffles Viva around a bit, she curls and shifts and hisses in her restless and forced state of sleep as he tries to help her.

Her cape is slowly wrapped around her body and her blood clings to the tufts of fur on the bottom and collar of the cape. The capes exterior doesn't hold in the blood, at all. Instead the magenta substance just slides off it, seeping through the fabric interior and slowly dripping down pieces of faux grass. Her breath heaves and her body is near entirely limp as it's restricted, Clay has to keep her head from hanging awkwardly and further straining her body as he carries her.

-/-/-/-

Viva jolts awake, body tingling with anesthetic that hasn't fully worn off. And as fast as she's shocked herself upright she's buckling in half due to an agonizing pain shooting up from her abdomen to her sternum. She clutches desperately only to find a similar pain resting heavy in her arm. Only then does she let her vision register as a train of thought in her head instead of bouncing from reflex to reflex.

White bandages wrap her arm and she isn't wearing a shirt, her entire torso is wound up in gauze that's a blend of magenta and almost purple with the darkness. She uses her other paw to touch it, and it's almost damp, that makes her stomach turn. She presses a bit more, higher up, and then she hits stitches left uncovered almost at her clavicles.

She glances down further and finds her leg covered in a thick layer of gauze, she can barely move her toes with how tight it is. And the magenta. She feels ill as the scent of drying and gelatinizing blood really sets in as hers instead of some other Troll in the medical ward.

Viva tries to move again, get off the bed and walk purely to spite the agony ripping through every wound on her (some unstitched but she can't tell with how much gauze she's wearing). Her paws rest shakily on the cot and so little effort leaves her winded, struggling to breath instead of cry out in pain. She's the leader. She has to be strong.

The second her toes hit the floor she swears she can hear something snap and she screams. Every torn tendon and string of muscle in her leg tries to fire all at once, preemptively activating to hold her weight, and the rush of blood darkens her gauze. It hurts enough to push her to tears as she falls back on the bed and clutches her leg. The agony in her arms and torso doesn't do much to deter her from holding the wound even as the sheets below her start to turn pink.

"Viva!"

Clay, it's Clay whose coming and closing the door behind him and rushing over. She bites back sniffles and pathetic little sounds as she lets go of her leg and relaxes just a bit. Her body lays prone on the cot, arms at her side and legs loose as Clay comes to her side.

"You were supposed to be out cold for fifteen more minutes," Clay said quietly. Then he laughs a little bit, awkward and forced, "I should've known you'd fight through the anesthetic though."

Viva laughs too even though there's nothing funny, "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" Horror rests heavy on Clay's voice as he speaks.

Viva rephrases, "How am I still alive?"

"Look, all I can't find any logical reason as to why considering how wrecked you were. But let's just take it and run." Clay's eyes linger on the darkness of Viva's terribly done excuse of a cast. He should've added more layers of gauze, or made actual casting materials.

"Did anyone else get hurt?" Viva asked, trying to sit up but pushed back down by Clay. She reluctantly stays still.

"No one else got hurt, the tribes really, really worried though," Clay said quietly, "But I have everything under control, just stay in bed till you're healed up."

Viva's blood goes cold at the notions of being bedridden for music knows how long. Her eyes widen a little bit and she stares at Clay, "What are you planning, Clay?"

Clay laughs nervously, "Nothing much, ya know, just taking reign until you're better."

"What."

"For your own health! It'll be fine!"

Viva gives a long sigh as she closes her eyes, "Don't mess it up, Clay."

"I won't! Besides, I've been doing the legal stuff, it'll be fine."

"Have fun socializing and being the funboy again."

Clay swallows hard. Right. Funboy. He'll have to be the funboy again. It makes hims stomach knot but he nods along because he knows. Being the funboy, he's pretty sure the notions alone make his mind flood with dysphoria.

But for Viva's sake?

He'll manage.

#trolls #trolls fanfiction #clay trolls #viva trolls #trolls viva #trolls clay #trolls fanfic #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #tw gore #tw injury #tw hospital

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goldenamaranthe-blog · 6 months

Text

Jazzercise!: Hazbin Hotel

Buckle up, Buttercups! This one's long.

Charlie: (wearing a pair of pink leggings, rainbow sneakers, white exercise t-shirt, and a red sweatband around her head) Alright, Everyone! Today, we're going to be doing some team bonding exercises throoooough- Da-Dada-Daaaaaah! -Exercise!!!

Hazbins: (all groan in dismay and grumble and clamor in annoyance)

Angel: (wearing powder pink leg warmers and neon green leotard that looks like it came out of an 80s) Is there any way we can sit this out? Some of us are hungover.

Vaggie: (wearing a black and purple sports bra and black spandex shorts that cut off halfway down her thighs, hair tied up in a ponytail) Still? We celebrated the hotel's grand reopening last week.

Husker: (wearing your stereotypical gym teacher windbreaker pants but no shirt or jacket) The empty liquor wall at the bar will verify.

Lucifer: (magically appears wearing a pair of bright red, men's booty workout shorts from the 70s, white Dad sneakers with tall red socks, and a white and red sleeveless shirt tucked into the shorts) Well, I'm all for a little sweat and hard work! Whatcha got for us, kiddo?!

Charlie: Dad! (Averts her eyes) What are you wearing?!

Lucifer: What?! I wore this in my college days!

Angel: Oooooh! While I'm not complaining there, Short King, I don't think Charlie appreciates seeing the "King's Apple" lodged in your shorts.

Lucifer: Huh? (Looks down at the natural, indiscreet bulge in his shorts) ........But these shorts cup the boys so nicely.

Charlie: (about to puke like when she watched Angel's best porno during show and tell)

Vaggie: Babe, let's just focus on getting the workout done. Alright?

Charlie: OoOookay.... Um... Do you mind taking over? I actually have no idea what I'm doing.

Vaggie: (sparkle in her eye) Sure thing, babe. (Turns to the rest and squares her shoulders) Alright, we are going to start with two easy laps around the track followed by partner bear crawls for two hundred meters, thirty burpies, and ending with twenty inverted push-ups! Any questions?

Hazbins: (awkwardly glance at each other)

Niffty: (wearing a 50s style one piece workout suit) YAY!!! PAIN!!!

Vaggie: THEN MOVE!!!

-One Hour Later-

Hazbins: (moaning and groaning in agony as they lay defeated on the track)

Angel: (rolled out like a spider that got run over) Charlie..... Toots.....

Charlie: (gasping for breath as she falls to her knees and holds herself up on shaking arms) Yeah.... Angel?

Angel: (Looks over to Vaggie who is on her third iteration of bear crawls and using an equally dead Lucifer for weight) If this psychopathic bitch of a stamina monster brings this kind of energy to the bedroom, (wheezes and coughs) then I'll pray for your loins the next time you guys have sex.

Charlie: (panting as she rolls onto her back, too tired to even correct the inappropriate statement) Thank you, Angel. (Tilts her head up and leans on her elbows to watch Vaggie)

Vaggie: (finishes the bear crawls and drops Lucifer off with a jump) Thanks for being my partner, Sir. (Breaks into her burpees)

Lucifer: (wheezes through little spindles of smoke) No problem, Vaggie. Anytime. (To Charlie) What do you feed that girl?

Charlie: (watching Vaggie intently with a fresh blush not caused by exertion)

Angel: Charlie?

Charlie: (watches the muscles in Vaggie's thighs and shoulders work as she speeds through her burpees)

Lucifer: Chaaaaarlie? (Snaps fingers) Little Duckie, are you alright?

Charlie: (hearts beat in her eyes and Careless Whispers plays in the background somewhere as she watches Vaggie's leg, shoulder, and back muscles contract and flex under the duress)

Vaggie: (finishes her burpees and goes into a handstand, briefly getting her balance before starting her handstand push-ups)

Charlie: (watches a bead of sweat follow the contours of Vaggie's shoulder muscles and scars and drool starts dribbling down her chin) Angel.... I need that prayer now....

Angel: Huh? (Follows Charlie'sline of sight and groans in pain as he brings his hands up in prayer) Our Unholy Father of Debauchery, please see that this horny bitch's snatch makes it safely out of the upcoming pounding she is about to receive. May her holes be elastic and well lubricated to avoid tearing, her legs be flexible as they reach behind her head, her orgasms shake her very foundation, and the aftercare be filled with all the cutsey cuddling she can handle. Amen.

Charlie: (continues watching) I wanna climb her.

Lucifer: (awkwardly) Uhhhhh.... Vaggie's not a tree, sweetie.

Charlie: I want her to *CENSORED* my *CENSORED* and *BEEEP BEEEP BEEEEEEEEP* while *CENSORED*,and then *BEEEEEEEEEEEP* and *CENSORED*

Angel: (gasps and clutches his imaginary pearls) Holy Fuck, Babe!!! Cool your jets! (Pulls out his phone and starts recording) I gotta use some of these lines at the next recording!

Charlie: When she smacks my *BEEEEP*, I want to *CENSORED* *BEEEP BEEP* and *BEEEEP-EP-EP-BEEEEEEEP* to taste *CENSORED*.

Lucifer: (faints after hearing his daughter saying such filth)

Angel: (stops recording) ......Fucking-A, Charlie, that's even making me feel dirty.....

Thank you, @sevi-fuk, for giving me the idea of Charlie going fiendish about Vaggie and her muscles.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel incorrect quotes #chaggie #charlie morningstar #vaggie #angel dust #husker #lucifer morningstar #niffty #hazbin crew #Vaggie is a stamina monster #supportive big brother angel #charlie gets turned on by Vaggie's muscles and physical capabilities #exercise #muscles

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qwimchii · 1 year

Note

Begging for Capt. Price filth 😭

𝘢𝘱𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘦 — 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘦

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘳!𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘶𝘱, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘤 — 5.1𝘬

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘶𝘳!𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵&𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘦𝘥𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸𝘫𝘰𝘣 & 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘵𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘣𝘦𝘨𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘨, (𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭) 𝘴𝘪𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬?? (𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨?? 𝘢𝘭𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘳… 𝘑𝘰𝘩𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳), 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘤𝘬-𝘪𝘯𝘴 <3

note: pure filth… someone possessed me when i wrote this idk it wasnt me u guys, istg. also, the title inspired by aphrodite by rini!

with a swirl of hot, slick shame in your stomach and a hard swallow, you glanced up from the map directions on your phone to the establishment in front of you.

you didn’t know what you were expecting. when your friend Kylie had recommended you to this place several months ago, you had rolled your eyes, nose wrinkling at the idea that some people would spend so much money on a place like this.

a couple weeks ago, several hours into your birthday party, Kylie had privately pulled you aside from the get-together to hand you a little gift bag with hot pink tissue paper scrunched up at the top. your eyes flitted from the bag to the beaming smile on her face, a nervous laugh building in the back of your throat.

“open it!” she prodded, directing your hand to the tissue paper. pushing it aside, you reached down into the bag and flexed your fingers around till you found a birthday envelope and… something else.

you pulled it out, eyes flicking over the sleek black card with a fancy, modern print etched into the front. the garden of eden.

a bitter feeling pooled into your mouth. “a business card…?”

she bounced lightly on her feet, bumbling as she shook her head, speaking with a low thrill. “remember that amazing spa and amazing masseur i was telling you about?”

she paused for dramatic effect, the grin stretching her cheeks almost comically. your brows just raised slightly in a silent offering for her to continue.

“i know how much you’ve been stressed out lately, so i got you a gift card for an intimate massage!”

at that, you stifled a groan, dismayed that your friend would give you such an expensive birthday gift. but knowing the fact that Kylie sported a louis vuitton purse and matching suitcase on that last girl’s travel trip you had, could you really be surprised?

not to mention the fact that Kylie’s husband had gifted her the keys to a new audi at her last birthday party. which was hosted on a yacht.

a tight grimace pinched your face as you recited a strained thank you, letting her pull you into a suffocating hug as she rambled on about something you weren’t really listening to.

you couldn’t help but grimace all over again as you rejoined the party. why was she going to these intimate massage places when she had a husband?

you’d find out soon you supposed, narrowing your eyes at the sleek exterior of the spa. the unmistakable logo illuminated above the trim entrance. the garden of eden.

you were ready to pull into a cracked parking lot riddled with potholes and a crumbling brick building with a neon sign that flashed obnoxiously. not this epitome of wealth.

before you could tuck your tail between your legs and flee, you braved the street, striding over the crosswalk with a confident step that slowly waned the closer you approached the intimidating entrance. by the time you swung the glass door open and stood in front of the receptionist, you were a muddle of anxiety and regret.

the receptionist glanced over the top of her computer, a look of suppressed impatience on her face when you said nothing, blubbering like a fish as she flicked two strands of hair out the way, her hair gelled back into a tight updo.

“name?” she said with a raised, perfectly manicured brow. you gave it meekly and she nodded, fingers moving over the keyboard with mechanic clacks.

“and what service are you here for today, ma’am?”

you withered where you stood. “intimate massage.”

but she just nodded, not even sparing you a glance as she slid a clipboard over the counter.

“fill this out and sign here please,” she directed, tapping an acrylic nail at the bottom of the page, eyes still trained on the screen of her computer.

you just nodded dumbly, picking up a pen as your eyes ran over the checkboxes of the page, the hair on the back of your neck bristling as you let out a squeak of surprise.

you bringed the paper closer to your eyes just to make sure you weren’t dreaming. in a list of checkboxes beneath the precursory personal information, you swallowed as you absorbed the contents.

please check the box(es) of your preference:

silent massage (no verbal cues)

verbal praise

verbal degradation

groping

choking (light/rough)

edging

orgasm denial

slapping (breasts/vagina/glutes)

clitoris play

vaginal penetration with fingers...

you felt like throwing up as the list went on, endlessly went on, and ended with a space for your signature. for your consent, you presumed, feeling nauseous as you swayed on your feet.

“ma’am?”

you head snapped up to the receptionist who was tapping a payment terminal on the counter, brows furrowed as she looked you over.

“sorry,” you said weakly, fumbling to reach into your purse and snap open your wallet, fishing out the gift card and shoving it into the machine before scrawling down the necessary information into the blanks of the document and almost closing your eyes when you checked certain boxes down the list, flushed with shame. ready to just get this over with.

“are you aware that this gift card requests for a specific masseur?”

you just nodded, the words sliding from your ears as she listed off more precautionary procedurals before finally gesturing to another glass door to the side of the front reception.

“that way please, miss. your masseur will be waiting for you at the end of the hall.”

blindly, you strode over to push the doors open, letting out a strained exhale as you walked down the hallway with careful steps, taking in the contemporary art stacked along the walls and the sweet tinge of a calming incense in the air that didn’t calm the nerves that twisted your stomach at all.

at the end of the hall, and past another set of glass double doors, you saw the broad back of a man in a black linen set talking to a shorter woman in the same uniform. when her eyes flicked to you, she ushered him away and disappeared down a different hallway. then, he turned to you, hands casually against his hips. a low curse left your lips before you could prevent it.

again, you found yourself dismayed, because you didn’t know what you were expecting. maybe, an old wrinkly masseur like in those shitty pornos your ex boyfriend used to watch. this bearded man was, undoubtedly, older than you, but ruggedly handsome in a way that made your stomach flip.

not with nerves, but with anticipation. or maybe a mix of the two.

he closed the distance between you, looking down at you from his tall height, a polite smile on his lips but a dark, knowing look in his blue eyes that flushed your cheeks.

“john price,” he said, voice rough and gravely as he offered a hand. you returned with your name shyly, letting him pull you closer as you shook his large hand that dwarfed your own.

fuck. he was hot, and that knowledge made you dizzy.

in a haze, you let him lead you further down the hallway, startling when he glanced at you from over his shoulder.

“i saw that you specially requested me, ma’am.”

“i…” you groped around for words, prickling all over with embarrassment.

“my friend,” you settled on finally, “she requested you.”

his brows rose before he trained his attention forward once more. “your friend…?”

he let out a low huff of laughter, turning on his heel as he motioned down a branching hallway lined with opaque, glass doors.

“and where are they?”

you swallowed hard, staring at him. “well… this was a birthday gift.”

he just looked amused, like he was mulling over something very thoughtfully.

“hm.”

you followed the silent directions he gave you, halting at a door in the middle of the hallway. when his hands closed around the handle, a flurrying panic seized you, and the warring emotions in your heart stumbled to the forefront.

“wait—!”

he paused, brows raised in expectation.

fuck, what were you doing? the voices in you were clambering around and loud, mind grappling with itself. you couldn’t chicken out of this now, you chided yourself, biting down on your lower lip.

or could you?

but John just huffed, twisting the door open to… a bathroom?

“all customers must take showers before service,” he explained, a shrewd smirk twisting his lips. “did the receptionist not disclose as such?”

“i—” you stumbled through your words, “no. no she did.” you just had been too nervous to listen.

you brushed past him, stepping into the pristine bathroom and slowly turning in your spot to give him a weak, strained smile.

when he didn’t close the door, just tilted his head at you, the smirk sliding from his face, a shiver slithered down your spine.

“if i can assist you in any way,” he said slowly, a considerate gaze pinning you to your spot, “please notify me.”

his words were tinged with something darker beneath the kindness of them that turned the shiver into a wrack of shudders. like there was an offer hidden within them that you could pluck out, that he wanted you to seize.

his eyes flicked to the shower behind you and you melted into a puddle of hot liquid. help you in the shower?

“m’fine,” you squeaked, unable to meet his eyes.

for an unbreathing moment, he blinked at you. then, he nodded, that polite smile flashing through his face.

“your private room will be number sixteen. down the hall on the left.”

he shut the door softly.

the breath deflated from your lungs and your shoulders slumped, a crawling heat over your skin that propelled you to strip yourself of your clothes and toss them into an untidy pile before stepping into the shower.

you let the water run over you for longer than necessary, careful to keep your hair swept out of the way as you scrubbed yourself again. then again. and again.

you didn’t know what to do with yourself and the heat that wouldn’t leave your cheeks. your stomach. the place between your thighs.

it was infuriating, and you turned the water colder and colder till you were shivering under the icy blast of water. still, that heat burned you inside and out, and the thought of that masseur wasn’t helping in the least.

he looked strong—tall and muscled. handsome. god.

you looked down to the pulsing place between your thighs and lamented. lately, you had been so pent up. life was debilitating and wrung you so dry that you couldn’t find time to have a bit of fun with a stray partner at the local bar anymore.

you deserved this. swallowing hard, you tried to convince yourself of the words when you twisted the knob of the shower, determined to shake yourself of that swirling shame that seized your insides as you dried yourself with fury.

opposite the sparkling sink was a row of robes with a plaque etched above each one instructing customers to don one instead of clothing. you jerked a lavish robe on, conscious of the way your tits were so visible beneath its silky softness, and shoved your clothes into the plastic bag from the dispenser on the sink.

you deserved this. it rang clear as you stepped out the bathroom clad in slippers and the revealing robe. you could do this.

as you stomped down the hallway, sharply turning left as he instructed, you made a beeline for room sixteen and pushed the door open.

when you stepped in, letting your weight fall against the door behind you, you stayed there, frozen in place as you watched John crouched down at some cabinets on the far side of the room. in the middle of it, there was a plush massage table that looked equally comfortable and equally ominous.

you opted for your spot pressed to the door.

“was it good?”

his abrupt question startled you as he turned with some bottles in his hands. with a flush of embarrassment, you knew they must’ve been for…

you gnawed on the inner softness of your cheek.

“good?”

his brows raised a little as he put the bottles down by the massage table. “the shower.”

your eyes widened. the shower?

he stared at you for a long moment before a gruff laugh escaped him, turning away to straighten the covering on the massage table.

“was the shower to your liking, ma’am?”

you gaped, mouth opening and then closing, fishing around to see if there was some sort of innuendo in his words. a little voice in you mewled that there must’ve been, otherwise your face wouldn’t be so hot like this.

you mumbled some semblance of an affirmative and he nodded. “good.”

when you still stayed pressed to the door, cowering like a little animal, he gave you a soft look. “would you like me to put your items into a locker, ma’am?”

you dropped the plastic bag and your purse by the door, nudging them into the corner of the room with your foot.

“no thank you.”

you still stayed pressed to the door and he leaned his hip against the table.

“are you alright ma’am?”

“mhmm.”

an ocean of goosebumps perked up on your skin when he began edging closer to you.

“what brought you in here today, love?”

it was such an intimate question, you didn’t really know what to say. you took in the sharpness of his jaw, broad shoulders, and the gentle outline of his muscled torso beneath the thin cloth of his shirt.

“stress,” you squeaked, and he cocked his head.

“yeah? been feelin’ pent up?”

your skin was set alight. he was only an arm’s length away now, stopping at a distance that was still professional but felt smothering. you couldn’t breath, hyper aware when his eyes dropped to the swell of your breasts beneath the thin robe.

suddenly, you felt naked. and embarrassingly wet.

“mhmm.”

his eyes flicked back up to meet yours, so thick and dark that your thighs clenched together. “don’t worry, darlin’. i can help you relax.”

he offered a hand to you, and with a shy feeling, you curled your hand into his, letting him gently tug you toward the massage table.

“we’ll take it slow, yeah?”

you nodded meekly, untying the sash of your robe with clumsy hands. when the ropes fell to your sides, you stood stock still, looking up at him meekly as you wrapped your arms around yourself.

“sorry,” you said weakly, guilt thick and cold in your gut for making his job so difficult.

“s’alright,” he coaxed, not a crack of impatience in his face.

when you still made no move to remove it yourself, he ghosted a hand over the waist of the robe. “may i?”

you nodded, screwing your eyes shut when he tugged it from your shoulders, just the rustling of the robe falling to the floor and his calm breaths filling the room. a breeze enveloped your exposed skin, and you jolted when his warm knuckles brushed over your arm.

cracking your eyes open, he gestured towards the massage table, and you eased yourself onto it, nerves twisting hot and livid in your stomach, staring up at the ceiling and refusing to look anywhere else.

stiff as a board against the table, you were almost relieved when he stepped away from you, switching on some music in the background. it wasn’t lusty and sensual like you thought it would be, but lilted with a calming resonance. like something that you would meditate to every now and then.

you heard him step closer to you once more, saw him in your peripheral, but nonetheless you jolted when his fingers ghosted over your bare stomach.

“just relax,” he said softly, eyes trained on your face as he rubbed over your stomach, sliding up beneath your breasts.

you held your breath, confused when his warm touch never made contact with the plush of your tits, but instead dipped back down and skipped over your cunt, sliding over your thighs and squeezing lightly.

gnawing on your lower lip, you stole a glance at the easy look on his face, meeting his gaze with a confused one. he lifted his other hand to rest on your forehead, rubbing at the spot between your eyebrows.

oh. that felt good.

“close your eyes,” he commanded, and you complied immediately, so distracted by his fingertips massaging over the tense spots on your head that you almost missed when his knuckles stroked your inner thighs.

“m’nervous,” you admitted finally, feeling loosened by the ministrations over your scalp.

he just hummed, moving his other hand from your inner thighs. there was a warm touch on your pubic bone, just above your cunt, and your hips jumped with a gasp. “just listen to the music.”

“i can make you feel good,” he whispered, and you shivered, face flushing when the wetness between your thighs was beginning to grow uncomfortable.

it felt wrong to be under this touch of this older man. a stranger, who you were letting run his hands all over you.

the thought just made you shudder, stomach in knots when he slid his hand up your stomach and gently kneaded your breasts.

you whimpered, arching into the touch blindly, and he hummed in approval.

“tha’s it love.”

you released a shaky exhale under the little burst of praise from his lips, and a needy voice in you demanded for more.

then, the warm sensations left your body, leaving you cold and wanting on the table, and your eyes snapped open, finding him already looking down at you with amusement as he unstoppered a bottle of… something.

he poured it into his hands, rubbing them together, warming it, you thought dizzily, as he slid his hot and oiled hands over your body, pushing down with a pressure that had your mind spinning as your head thudded back against the table.

his movements became bolder as more whimpers fell from your lips, squeezing your tits, the flesh of your stomach, then your thighs, before he picked up the bottle and poured a little oil straight onto your naval.

“spread your thighs,” he commanded in a low tone that had your knees snapping open immediately, much to your embarrassment.

he cooed a praise that was lost to your ears as he spread the oil over your naval, then your inner thighs, completely neglecting your cunt as it pulsed angrily.

“mister—” you struggled for words as your hips bucked up, feeling so so embarrassed at how needy you were growing, all his touches over your body heating you up and drowning you in a never-ending, spirling pool of want.

“you can call me John,” he said, pressing your hips back down to the table with unnerving patience. “or sir, if that’s what you like, darlin’.”

you didn’t miss the suggestiveness in his gravelly tone, smothering a yelp when he tugged your thighs wider, hooking an arm beneath one to stretch your hips further apart.

when he craned his neck down to observe your cunt, just staring unblinkingly, you were flushed with embarrassment.

“please—” you begged weakly, squirming a little on the table.

he looked down at you from over his shoulder, and the lust blown look in his face made you shudder.

is this what all appointments were like? for all customers? you thought dizzily, understanding how someone could get addicted to a place like this. a place where John was.

“thought you wanted this love,” he said slowly, and you nodded eagerly.

“touch me, please—”

in a quick movement, he slapped your inner thigh, palm connecting with the side of your pussy lips on the way, and you jolted against the table, a loud moan torn from your lips as the sting sizzled out into pleasurable fizzles all over your skin.

“thought you wanted to be teased,” he said softly, like he was being kind when he rubbed over the stinging spot. “edged. slapped. degraded.”

his fingers ghosted over the shell of your clit and you gasped, hips twitching up into the relief of the featherlight touch.

“s’what you filled out on the contract,” he grunted, voice considerably more aggressive when he pinched your clit lightly. a little cry left your lips and he hummed, a smile on his lips as he watched you squirm.

“such a depraved little thing.” his head ducked down to stare down at your cunt again, like he was talking to it, as his fingers brushed over your throbbing cunt.

“so fuckin’ wet already, slut.”

then, he slapped your cunt, gentler than before, but then he did it again, and you twisted on the table, tears springing up into your eyes at the pleasurable sting that traveled straight to the heat in your stomach.

“please,” you practically sobbed, clit pulsing and throbbing and god—

he thumbed away the tears on your cheeks, gently shushing you as he stepped back to pour some more oil into his hands before rubbing his whole palm over your cunt, oiling the slick wetness of your sex and completely ignoring the whimpers and whines on your lips as he did as he pleased.

or maybe, as you pleased, since you were the customer, but as you arched into his touch and the sensual, torturous circles he massaged into your clit, you couldn’t help but feel like it didn’t matter what you wanted anymore.

you were under his mercy as he held you down, snaking two hands around your wrists and binding them against your tits to keep you from squirming so much as he played with your clit.

“good?”

the gentle check-in spun your head and you nodded dumbly, looking up at him in a blurry haze. with your reassurance, he smiled softly, pinning you down with something dangerously close to an affectionate look before more filth was spilling from his mouth.

“this just needed a little attention, didn’t it, pretty girl?”

even if his eyes were on you, you knew he was talking about your cunt, and the lewd way he said it had you choking on an affirming moan.

“yeah, tha’ was all,” he said, so rough and delicious that the sound of his voice made your cunt clench around nothing. painfully empty.

“just needed a lil’ attention, a quick orgasm, and you’ll be good as new, hmm?”

mind dizzy, you could barely respond to him, brows pinched as you stuttered and fumbled around for a response.

but he continued without you. “needed an older and experienced man to take care of you, hm?”

“fuck,” you cried, grinding your hips against his touch, eyes rolling back into your head because all the sensations felt blinding.

“suck a dirty slut,” he cooed, slapping your clit in a couple wet smacks that had your hips bucking up before he was rubbing his fingers against you again, faster this time.

he released your wrists and slid hand to your jaw, pressing down on your jugular as some of his fingers teased your lower lip. easily, you conceded, sliding your mouth open so he could press two fingers deep down your hot throat, screwing your eyes shut as you tried not to choke and just suck.

“good girl,” he grunted roughly, sending you spiraling when his hand crept further down your cunt and stretching your sopping walls with a big finger. then, as soon as his first finger was buried to the hilt, he was slipping in another one, cunt squelching and sucking around his fingers as he fucked you with his hand.

“oh John—” you couldn’t help the breathy, warbled gasp around a mouthful of his fingers, heart jumping at the way his gaze just darkened down at you.

“so greedy,” he admonished at a whisper, and you whimpered, swirling your tongue around his fingers as you reached out to anchor on something, anything, only satiated when your hand came into contact with the fabric of his pants, clutching at the linen in a tight fist.

you felt something hard pressing against your knuckles, eyes sliding over to take in the swollen bulge in his pants.

with a little whimper, you brushed over it mindlessly, and John hissed at the touch, sliding his hand out your mouth and back around your throat, pushing your head firmly back down to the table.

“s’off limits, darlin’,” he reminded you, breathlessly, though you didn’t miss the way his grinded his hips into your palm.

you distantly remember the contract outlining something about not touching the masseurs in return—that it was a strictly single avenue for pleasure.

but knowing it was forbidden somehow made it so much better.

“wanna suck you off,” you whispered softly, blindly pawing at the waistband of his pants, and he practically growled, hand tightening around your neck.

“hungry, are you?” he pressed a thumb into your mouth and you sucked it in eagerly, humming, shuddering when his fingers curled into that sweet spot inside you.

breath stolen somewhere far away, you ground your hips into every curl of his fingers, eyelids drooping even though you fought them to stay awake. in the meantime, his hand retreated from your throat, disappearing somewhere off the table. then, your head was being turned, and you were dizzily faced with the leaking head of his thick cock almost brushing against the tip of your nose.

you hummed, immediately craning your neck forward to brush your lips, slick with spit, over the head of his cock, then beneath it, lips ghosting in little kisses at his frenulum, and you wholly enjoyed the way that he shivered.

“c’mon, pretty,” he coaxed, firmly grabbing a fistful of your hair. “suck me off with that cute little throat.”

dropping your jaw open, tongue out in an offering, he immediately slid down your throat, and you moaned around him, letting him press all the way down to the hilt in one go.

“good girl, you can take it, you will take it, ” he rasped, sounding almost pained as he ground the thick tip against the soft skin at the very back of your throat. when you choked, throat seizing hard around him, he let out a low groan and pulled his hips back so that the very tip of him rested against your lips. for a moment, you struggled for breath, torn between the way he was massaging your g-spot perfectly and the drooling cock waiting for the heat of your mouth right in front of your face.

“more,” you whined, throat already strained from abuse, craning forward to wrap your lips around the tip and suckling so that his hips jerked forward into your mouth.

he pressed the side of your head firmly down into the table so that you were immobilized—so that he could rut his hips smoothly into your hot and tight mouth like it was his own personal cocksleeve, and just the thought of it had your clit twitching, cunt spasming because you were getting dangerously close.

“close?” he grunted, and you hummed weakly around him, sucking as best as you could when mind-numbing waves of pleasure threatened to overtake you with every curl of his fingers.

before you could protest, he pulled out of your mouth and released your head against the table. by the time you were picking up your head to peer at him, he was already kneeling at the edge of the table, curling two arms around your thighs to pull you closer to his waiting mouth.

then, his tongue was on your clit, making out with your pussy in ways that made your back arch up off the table.

“John!” you gasped, curling your legs around his head so that you could keep him flush to your cunt.

in a hazy, distant part of your mind, you were faintly aware that the contract said nothing about eating out but—

“s’not allowed,” you reminded him between breathy moans, words sluggish and blurred together.

he just hummed, dark blue eyes flickering up to you with almost a sinister smile on his lips as his tongue swirled around your clit. “only for special customers.”

you choked on a moan, letting your head fall back as one hand twisted in your own hair, the other in John’s, tugging just to keep a grip on reality as he worked you through a mind-numbing orgasm that had you seeing pure white before you were crashing back down, hyper sensitive when his lips were still glued to your cunt.

jolting against the table, you shook with sobs as he pleasured to your last trembling high, suckling in your clit one last time before he leaned back, beard and chin glistening with your slick.

between wracking pants, your eyes betrayed you, sliding shut as you sank into the massage table, falling completely boneless.

“ma’am?” his voice was husky with use as he wrapped a hand gently around your ankle before releasing.

forcing your eyes open, you were blessed with the sight of him unbuttoning the front of his shirt, exposing the tone of his torso and the dark thatch of hair near his naval. then, your eyes dropped to his flushed, neglected cock between his thighs, looking so very painful and thick and suckable.

humming, you swung up on the table and slid to your knees on the floor, crawling towards him till you were nestled between his shoes.

you looked up at him, heels pressed against your ass and neck craning back to meet his debauched gaze, cracked wide open with want and need. then, you licked your lips, giving him a good show as you wrapped a hand innocently around his cock, giving it a little tug, satisfied from the way it twitched in your touch.

“how many customers have done this for you?” you asked, shy as you eyed the pearly beads of precum that slid off his tip and onto your waiting tits. he cursed in a throaty, low tone.

“few,” he admitted, nudging his hips forward so the head of his cock brushed against your lips.

your eyes fluttered up to him again. “please fuck my throat, sir.”

“fuck,” he curse, thick and dark as he crept a hand into your hair and pulled taught so that your head was pulled back, the underside of his cock against your plush cheek.

“m’gonna ruin you darlin’,” he whispered, a threat and a promise that you eagerly took as he guided his cock into your waiting mouth, poised and wide open for him.

im ngl i didnt really know how to end this one bc im not sure how much i like how i wrote this ff and it was going on for too long and alfjslirjfsij (i do already have ideas for a part 2 if anyone is interested in more masseur!John because the concept certainly intrigues me... 🌚)

taglist: @ivybeeloved @keiva1000

#captain john price #john price #john price fluff #john price smut #john price x reader #john price x you #captain price smut #captain price x reader #captain price #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

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Please make a part two of slutty camboy aegon!!! It was so good!!!!!

♡ 5, 6, 7, 8 call me whore it feels great! ♡

Camboy!Aegon II x Reader

Ratings: Explicit

Tags: Big ole sub!Aegon, dom!reader, kinda aftercare, subspace, cock rings/plugs/strap-ons oh my!, camboy!aegon, sex tape, cumming untouched, ass play, teasing, oral fixations, prostate milking, Aegon’s a drooling mess, PWP, Aem is nawt happy getting his research partner yeeted by the creacher

A/N: IT WAS TIME I WANTED MAN TEARS

@lovelykhaleesiii @ilikeitbetterangsty @fairysluna @godrakin @connorsui @fan-goddess @teamaemond

Aemond was still your research partner…somehow. He didn’t take to the news very well that you were banging his idiot brother, looking very pale when you informed him of the new relationship. Now it was just a snide comment here and there and he’d cough and turn the TV up if you entered with Aegon.

Which was understandable because about seventy five percent of the time Aegon was getting off with you in some form. He was the neediest thing— whining for a handjob even in the most mundane circumstances. But he fucked reallll good, like he promised over the live stream in what felt like years ago now.

You refused to be in a live stream but would participate in Aeg’s onlyfans bullshit. You could hide your identity better that way. As a plus, Aegon would usually let you pick whatever you wanted him to do for the content. He was a little fucking masochist like that. Because every time you called the shots it usually ended up with him slobbering and sobbing, begging for relief, looking so pretty for the camera.

You needed to start the video now, having been caught in your thoughts. Aegon was whimpering on the bed, shifting needily. His hands were bound, lurid neon cock ring snug at the base. You had an inflatable plug in his ass, he was already panting softly even though you hadn’t touched it. The harness and strap was already secured to your hips, pretty shade of pink just like Aegon loved.

“You ready slut?,” you asked promptly.

He licked his pouty lips, breathing, “Yes!”

With a click you began recording, focusing on him while you crawled on the bed toward the pretty boy. You shoved two fingers into his lax mouth, Aegon immediately sucking with a moan, you commenting, “God, he’s always so needy for something in his mouth. Don’t worry, you’ll get it soon sweetheart.”

He whimpered around your fingers, violet eyes rolling around at thought of the strap down his achingly empty throat. Aegon let out a little ‘nooo’ when you pulled your fingers free to wipe them messily across his lips. You moved the camera down to the strap and moved it to slap at matching pink lips.

“Haven’t met someone with a bigger oral fixation yet, any challengers for my cute slut?”

Aegon shifted again, wide eyes peering up, almost looking innocent.

“Go on, get it wet, maybe I’ll do something with this thing,” you grabbed the pump connected to the plug, teasingly squeezing a bit. Aegon fought to get at the cock, whining at being unable to use his hands. Laughing at the pathetic attempt you guided into his mouth.

Aegon’s hazy eyes gazed up at the camera as he expertly sucked it off, moaning around the strap. You gave the new toy a couple of experimental squeezes, rambling to the invisible audience, “Some fan of his sent this. Apparently it can go up to five inches around?” The blonde whimpered, pupils blowing at the idea.

“God, you’re such a whore! I would say your fans know you well but…we know you like anything and everything.”

Dropping the pump you smacked at his cheek cooing, “Dont’chu?”

He nodded eagerly, thighs flexing and squeezing below, flushed cock leaking against his soft stomach. You combed a hand through his pale hair and tugged gently, making white lashes flutter. You picked up the pump again, inflating it further, Aegon making a pitchy noise around the dildo. Drool dripped down his chin.

“Oh, well when you look so pretty.”

He could take it. Aegon would tap out if it was too much. You inflated the thing with slow pumps, making sure the blonde could feel the stretch. He gasped and choked again, whimpering and shaking. You asked him none too sweetly, “Is that enough for your greedy ass? You want more huh?”

Aegon popped off the strap with a cry, spreading his pretty pale legs to fuck down into the plug. His eyes were wide and watery while the blonde begged, “Moremoremore oh gods I need it, wan’ it on my s-sweet spooot.” You couldn’t help but moan at the wanton display, Aegon trembling and hungrily mouthing at the cock again, begging so sweet.

You were throbbing, maybe you should just let him cry into your pussy by now. Instead you cooed, “Fine baby boy, you’ll get it.” You pumped it further until he wailed and shook, hips stilling. There was no more give, you had it fully stretching him out now. If Aegon wanted his prostate touched he had it being smothered now. Back to the audience.

“Ohhh, there it is, he’s all full now. Can’t even hump anymore— poor baby’s stuffed.”

Aegon’s eyes openly were leaking tears now, whining over and over helplessly. You almost felt bad for the thing, sniveling and drooling. Guiding the dildo back into his mouth with a soft moan Aegon swallowed it down as if he was driven to be full as possible now. “C’mon Aeg, swallow it down baby, you can do it.”

You watched him try to move around the impossibly inflated plug, wailing around the strap. Sweat beaded on his quivering muscles, flushed and perfect all around. His cock looked purple now— so filled up with no relief. Aegon’s eyes fluttered as he breathed through a delicate nose, easing the pink dildo down stretched lips. Chattering from need you added, “Good boy, good slut, isn’t he just darling? Do whatever and he’ll whine for more.”

You grabbed blonde locks and began to fuck his throat earnestly. Aegon cried in strangled puffs, overwhelmed and teary. Sliding that hand down to his slim neck you purred, “Feels s’good don’t it? Stretched your slutty throat and ass out.” He spread his legs wider, cock beginning to leak from all the pressure on his poor prostate.

“Think y’can come like that precious whore? Right through the ring? Your balls look heavyyyy.”

He slid of the cock and cried, nose and eyes running, lips drooling and obscenely swollen. Aegon was a wreck now, pushed to that extreme from all the pleasure. Your boy toy outright sobbed, “Pluh-easeeee, babyyyy, g-g-gunna pop, it hurts!” You thumbed around swollen lips and caressed his full cheek, cooing.

“Oh Aeg, you achy? What do you need? Y’know how to use words.”

He fell forward between your breasts, utterly debauched. Too quiet for the camera you murmured, “C’mon baby, what’cha need sweetheart?” Gently propping the mess of man back up you ordered Aegon to lay on his back. Now the camera could catch the show of quivering ass, swollen cock, and his cute peaked nipples, flushed too.

Aegon spread milky legs instinctively, thrusting upwards and whimpering. Sliding a hand on the soft skin of his inner thigh you cooed, “You need’a cum don’t you? I think everyone can see that hm?” His chest hitched as the blonde blubbered, “Pleaseplease, m’so hard it hurts, oh my gah-hoddds, hnghhh!”

He could probably cum right now if he wanted to, shoot right through that cock ring. Just needed a little push. You skimmed your hand up his belly, willfully ignoring his hard cock, Aegon mewling in frustration. Pinching at a flushed nipple you murmured, “You keep begging but won’t tell me what you want, silly. Leave it up to me to figure out for bimbo here.”

Ignoring his cock again you toyed with the base of the huge plug in Aegon’s ass, him wetly gasping and shivering. Gently you pulled and pushed at it, your boyfriend sniffling and crying all over again. “Yeah, you like that? I know you do.” Smacking his thigh real quick you went back to fucking the toy in and out, halfway drooling over the pull on his rim.

Aegon tossed his pretty blonde head back and wailed, “Hngh, close, close!” Drool dripped down his chin, poor baby too busy carrying on to shut his damn mouth. His hands, still bound, came to rest above his head. You growled, moving harder, “C’mon then slut, come then, that ring not going to stop you, you’re full up.”

The first rope of cum came with a cut off whimper, Aeg’s full body going ramrod straight from the intensity. You moaned and grabbed his cock, pulling him off now, the flesh wet with copious pre-cum. He slung a leg around your waist, back arched painfully, practically shouting ‘ahh, haaah, ha!’.

Cum spilled all over his tender belly and your fist, slick noises enhancing the erotic display. He just kept spilling, you in awe, “Fuuuuck baby, that plug really milked you good huh?” The response was another needy cry. Aegon’s eyes were red rimmed and rolling around, tongue lolling out like the slut he was.

You didn’t stop until he was gasping and wincing, done for the play. His cock began to soften and you deflated the plug, humming, “Such a good slut, hope you all enjoyed the show. Now I gotta bring his brain online, much love!” Turning the video off you tossed the phone to the side.

Easing the plug out with a wince from Aegon you cooed, “Such a good baby, my baby boy.” He whimpered, watery violet orbs on you. “Gimme your hands Aeg,” you instructed gently. Untying those Aegon’s arms went immediately limp at his sides. Poor thing’s brain was in the weeds. Cuddling up to him you rubbed quivering limbs and nuzzled at his neck, the blonde eventually clinging to your frame, sniffling now and then.

“God, you’re too good,” he snuffled into your hair. Pinching his cute ass came the response, “Maybe you’re too easy? Do you need anything, water maybe?” Shaking his head and snuggling closer Aegon mumbled, “Nuh-uh, wanna lay here. Play with my hair, pleaseee?” With a smile you did so, absently twisting those pretty curls, the male’s eyes drooping, mouth curled into a pleasant smile.

“God he’s irritatingly loud, hurry up we need to convert the data for our project! Deviants,” Aemond angrily texted from his spot on the couch.

#aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #hotd smut #aegon ii x reader #camboy!aegon #sub!aegon

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sunlightmurdock · 1 year

Note

Firefighter!Bradley with a reader who likes to fuck with him every time they go on a date. Like halfway through dinner she's just like "oh shit I think I left the oven on 🤔 oh well 🤷‍♀️" and he's just like 🫨

Or maybe she uses something as an excuse to get him to come home with her

Stop it because this reader is so relatable, I adore her — there’s no way I would be able to control myself either.

You tilt your head slightly, watching him line up the almost comically small, little putter and tap the neon pink ball. He sinks it first time, because of course he does.

You’re three holes in and this course is a little too easy. His arms flex each time he straightens them to take a shot, practically indecent in that tight fitting, black crew neck.

“Hey Rooster?”

“Yeah?” He doesn’t look back, walking over the mini-golf typical astroturf to retrieve his ball so that you can take your turn. It’s a cute little date, and you so appreciate the thought that he put into it, but…

“I think I might’ve left my straighteners plugged in.” You lean against the putter, giving an innocent shrug of your shoulders as he turns back around to face you and raises his eyebrows.

Twelve holes to go, scorecard ditched — it’s less than twenty minutes before his shirt and shoes are discarded in your hallway and your dress is all but in shreds on your bedroom floor with the way that he had hurried you out of it.

The date goes wonderfully — better than you could have imagined, as he fucks you face-down into your mattress. You breathe hard, struggling to catch your breath as he collapses down on top of you — sweaty chest pressed into your back.

He looks down at your straighteners, unplugged and on the heatproof mat that they came with, then presses a breathless kiss to the back of your shoulder, “Baby, you’ve gotta stop doing this.”

You giggle, exhausted and out of breath, groaning tiredly into your sheets.

#firefighter!bradley #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #thots night (:

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beansprean · 2 years

Text

Art for the Exchangeapalooza gift I got from dear @yougoadedme!!! Ranch N' Rider Weekly: Special Edition - please go read it it's so good

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Full body of Marwa dressed in cowboy boots, jeans, and a pink flannel shirt rolled up to the elbows. She has one boot up on the bottom slat of a wooden fence and one hand braced on the top slat, the other in her hip as she grins into the distance. The background behind her is a rolling green field and rows of pine trees in watercolor. She is wearing a gold wedding band and diamond engagement ring.

2. Waist up of the Djinn, human, on a vague purple background, dressed in a flannel version of his salmon shirt tucked into his usual brown trousers. He is smiling indulgently, looking up over his glasses and holding up a bottle of margarita mix in one hand and tequila in the other. The margarita mix reads "EZ Margs - Delicious Margaritas at the snap of your fingers." The Djinn says, "I live to serve...liquor." He is also wearing a gold wedding band.

3. Guillermo sitting at a coffee table on a vague real background. There are a few black playing cards with white writing sitting on the table and Guillermo is on the side closest to the viewer, topless, and turned around to face the viewer with a sour expression. His face is flushed red and sweating, eyes darting away from the image before him. The image before him is this: human Nandor, having leaped fully onto the table in a crouched position in nothing but a white jock strap with pink hearts, flexing both of his arms with a triumphant grin and crowing, "I win!!"

4. Close up of human Colin Robinson, aged about 7 or 8, wearing a green flannel open over a red tee shirt. He is grinning excitedly, eyes shining, as he places a cowboy hat with a beaded turquoise band over his head. No less than five speech bubbles full of unintelligible babbling surround him.

5a. Nandor and Guillermo stand in a paddock, the former wearing a red flannel with the sleeves rolled up tucked into jeans with a silver horse belt buckle and the latter wearing a blue embroidered western shirt with the sleeves rolled up and a light brown cowboy hat. Nandor has his back to Guillermo's front and a leather bridle looped around his neck and shoulders. He holds the bit in his hands, but the ear strap is pressing directly into his throat. Behind him, Guillermo is holding the reins in both fists and is pulling them taut so Nandor is forced to lean back into him. Nandor's face is flushed, expression dazed and struggling to be stern but clearly not altogether displeased with the situation. He mumbles, "Guillermo, what...are you doing?" Guillermo's eyes are wide and wild, as if he isn't fully in control of his actions, face red and sweating profusely. 5b. Behind them, Colin, wearing a red cowboy hat with a strap and a long sleeved yellow shirt under an orange tee shirt that says 'Lego my Eggo' with a picture of a Lego waffle, stares at his uncles from atop a horse. The horse, Glitterfoot, is gray with a lighter mane and darker nose and ears, a white blaze down his face. He is properly tacked up western style, the reins in Colin's loose hands. Glitterfoot is also staring at the other two men, tongue sticking out the side of his mouth as he and Colin await instructions.

6. Guillermo and Derek sit across from each other at a table in a bar. A neon sign on the wall says "Sassy Cat Bar & Grill & Tack & Feed & Haberdashery. Mon-Sat 9am-12pm 2pm-2am" Guillermo, wearing an untucked red-violet flannel and jeans, is sitting with his back to the viewer. The back of his wooden chair has a burnt-on design of a rearing horse with a cat on its back, wearing spurred boots and waving a cowboy hat in the air. The Guide, human, leans one hip on their table and stares at Guillermo with a flirtatious grin, pen and notepad poised and awaiting their order. She is wearing a sparkly black beret, hoop earrings, a black and purple flannel shirt mostly unbuttoned tucked into a high waisted jean skirt, a gold horse belt buckle, and sparkly black thigh high cowboy boots. Her hair is curled and teased out big and poofy. Human Derek, sitting across from Guillermo in a brick red Henley and jeans, leans his crossed arms on the table and grins expectantly at Guillermo, waiting for him to react. Guillermo's shoulders are hunched up defensively and he has his face half turned away from the Guide toward the viewer, flushed and sweating nervously. /End ID

#wwdits #nandermo #mlm #mardjinn #baby colin robinson #ranch au #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #image described #fic rec

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gyllenhaalstories · 1 year

Photo

UN PARI À PARIS — SUGAR DADDY!JAKE 💗

summary: the title translates to a bet in paris. because jake’s doing a bet and you’re in paris... i’m so smart, oui oui.

warnings: established sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, curse words, smut (daddy kink, mild degradation, pussy spanking, finger sucking, public sex, penetration, creampie). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 3600

photos credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: i’m coming out of my cage and i’ve (not) been doing just fine (and neither does this fic because it’s a mess)... but come on barbie!jake, let’s go party! 💗 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

Jake grabbed the small water bottle from your hand and drank a sip. “I just got an idea.”

You slowly turned your head to the right and studied his face. Not even the wind caused by the fan you waved before your face could hide the mischief that was written all over his features. “Oh no.”

“Oh oui.” He smiled from ear to ear, wrinkles spreading at the corner of his eyes that were partially shielded by the thick frames of his sunglasses. He placed the bottle on the chair, in the spot between his open legs. “We’ll make a bet.”

You slid your sunglasses down on your nose, looking over them. He did the same, causing you to smile. “Go on.”

“Remember how you didn’t want to be here today?”

“I wanted to be here,” you corrected him, hoping he knew that you enjoyed the opportunity to attend such a big sports event, “I didn’t want to sit in the sun for hours.”

“That’s exactly what I said: you didn’t want to be here.” You rolled your eyes. “So, I thought we could bet on how we’ll spend the rest of the evening once the game is over.”

You quickly glanced behind Jake’s shoulders, his friends were chatting in French. Something about the colour rose, you assumed they were discussing how Jake’s Barbie pink shirt clashed with pretty much everything in the court.

“If Djokovic wins,” Jake spoke, catching all of your attention again. “We go straight back to the hotel...” You mirrored Jake’s smirk as he paused, both of you knew what he intended with that silence. “But if the Norwegian player wins, we’re going out for dinner” he mouthed the words ‘with them’, his thumb in front of him and pointing back at the couple without raising suspicions.

“That doesn’t make sense.” You frowned. “That’s not even a bet.”

Visibly disappointed, Jake asked you why.

“We both know Novak’s gonna win. Everybody knows that.”

“I didn’t know you were a tennis connoisseur. That’s hot.” He leaned forward to capture you lips in a kiss.

You kissed him back. Then, you pondered at his bet for a minute, honouring the reflection time it took him to come up with such a plan. “My bet is on Djokovic.” You answered with a firm nod, stretching your hand out to shake his.

Jake enthusiastically shook your hand. “Mine too.”

You rolled your eyes again. You set down the fan to cross your fingers, some extra superstition was more than welcome if it could avoid an extra late dinner in a crowded restaurant where people would argue about the winner of the French Open.

Jake nudged your sides with his elbow, glowing in all the pinkness of his shirt. “We look good together.” He leaned his arm on your thighs, resting a possessive hand on your knee which brought you to scoot closer towards him.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You sure did look good together. You reached to his neck and fixed the pendent of his silver chains, placing it in the middle where all of your hickeys and love marks had sadly faded away.

“That guy better fucking wins or else.” He flexed his neck, making it crack a little bit to release some of the growing tension. Needless to say, he would have a hard time turning his head left and right to follow that stupid neon green ball around. He would rather have his eyes glued on you the entire time and get out of the court before the second set.

*~*~*

The tension. It was unbearable.

Each ace, each quick sneaky hit, each grunt from the tennis players made you squirm on your uncomfortable chair and it made you wish this would all come to an end quicker. Just give the man his obnoxiously giant trophy so Jake and you could get ahead of the crowd. However, you still tried to enjoy the game, not that you paid much attention to it.

Jake and you were playing your own game of back and forth, of testing the limits of what would tip you over the edge. You stroked his arm, brushing your finger tips over his skin until you left a trail of goosebumps despite the heat outside. Jake’s hand would rub up and down your thigh, always reaching dangerously high. You had to remind yourself to adjust your skirt constantly. He would squeeze your knee, your leg, your thigh — basically whatever he could touch and not be called out for public indecency. He let you press yourself against him, or wrap an arm around him so that you were impossibly closer and just toying with his chains to stop yourself from kissing his neck.

You were quite proud when he popped open a button from his shirt. Whether it was from the heat of the weather or the heat from his body and his desire to take you right here and there barely mattered. You were gladly surprised how he lost composure before you, so much so that he had to pull out his phone multiple times to send a short warning through text messages or to remind you that he wanted you just as bad as you wanted him.

He hid it by pretending to take a photo, but there was nothing in his camera roll that would support his alibi. Unless pictures from the previous night where he fucked you with a view of the Eiffel tower counted. You were not so sure how a blurry photo of his cum over your breasts with the twinkling monument in the background would convince anyone that you were two civilized tennis enthusiasts.

“Let’s get out of here.” You insisted as soon as the game was over and people cheered for the winner.

Jake repeated it, following you out of the section of seats. His hands were on your hips and his body pressed against yours. It looked as though he was scared to lose you amongst the sea of people — even though your VIP tickets offered you a sneaky way out. It also looked as though he was using the little friction caused by your bodies being squeezed together when someone would cut you off in the line to get some relief.

You said it again, you needed to get out of here and quick. You were not having any of the small talk from Jake’s restaurateur friends or from anyone, for that matter, who just bonded after witnessing tennis history. You wanted out. Fast.

By some strand of luck, you avoided traffic and took a car back to your hotel. You thanked the chauffeur, rushing out of the car where you had been kissing and rubbing obscenely on each other. Jake paid him generously, causing the driver to shout “Monsieur, monsieur!” as he tried to give some of the money back to your man. Only, you were already on your way towards the entrance of the hotel lobby.

You were greeted by the one of the hotel managers who spoke with a thick French accent. He talked and talked and talked, something about how the building seemed empty with most of the residents having attended the French Open. You answered with nods and smiles until you excused yourself and took the lead, dragging Jake by the arm where his silver watch and bracelet made clicking noises from all the movements.

“You’re so fucking needy for me.” Jake told you, not caring enough to lower his voice.

For a seemingly empty hotel, the elevators in front of you were occupied and smashing the buttons did not make them climb up and down faster. You noticed how Jake was fidgeting, eyes darting everywhere, as you sighed with frustration.

“Got an idea.” Jake spoke, his face buried in the crook of your neck where he busied himself by leaving as many kisses as he could in such a small amount of time — which was both a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing to feel your skin on his lips, something he wanted to do since you arrived to the world renown court.But it was a curse because it felt like he was stealing time away from what the two of you desperately wanted.

“Is it better than your bet?”

He laughed against your skin, tasting the sweat on his lips as his tongue caressed the spots he kissed hungrily. “Not at all.”

“I already love it.”

“You’re fucking perfect.” Jake smiled widely. He spotted the door that led to the stairwell and pushed you in that direction.

There were giggles that echoed in the empty room as the two of you tried to walk up a few levels of stairs. You stopped to catch your breath and, immediately, you had hands exploring your body.

Jake was pulling and gripping on the fabric of your clothes until he had your body pressed against his and your mouths connected by a deep kiss. One second, he had your face in his hands as his tongue danced around yours. The next second, his hands were groping your ass. He pinched your cheeks harshly, giving each one a loud slap that, too, echoed in the stairwell.

“We gotta wait until we’re in the suite, come on.” You lolled your head back and let him nibble on the skin of your neck and cover it with open mouthed kisses. He grunted in response. “Jake —”

“Daddy.” He corrected, earning you an even harder spank on your ass to remind you what head space to be in.

“But Daddy!” You tried to stop him, nudging at him so he would recognize the risks of you getting caught.

“I thought,” he spun you on your feet so that you were looking out the stairwell window, the busy City of Lights now before your eyes. “You said that you loved my idea, hmm?” His left hand crept up your body and lingered around your neck before he moved it up, his thumb dragged your bottom lip down. “Did you change your mind?”

“No, I —” You were interrupted again by two fingers entering your mouth.

“You what?” His right hand pressed on your tummy so that your ass would push against the bulge of his navy blue pants. “Go on.”

“I...” You struggled to speak with his fingers filling your mouth, so you mumbled your way into trying to say that you “don’t wanna get caught.”

He laughed at how pathetic you sounded and did not let you say another word. Instead he pumped his index and middle fingers in and out, fucking your mouth with a smirk on his lips. “Shh, it’s not good to lie.”

You felt him rub against your body, his bulge pressing between your ass cheeks and making the fabric of your skirt ride up.

“I know you love being watched.” Jake’s hand lowered and reached under your skirt. He leaned his chin on your shoulder and whispered to your ear. “I bet that if someone walked in, you would beg me to keep going.”

You nodded, spit drooling down his fingers and your chin as he kept fucking your mouth.

“That’s right. Such a good slut, you wanna give everyone a good show.” You opened your legs and leaned forward, giving Jake access to your core that he roughly rubbed over your soaked panties. With a quick motion, he pushed your panties to the side and pressed his hand against your slick covered pussy.

You exhaled audibly when his warm hand touched your even warmer core, suddenly all of the hours that flew by as you waited for this moment became worth it. Your hips instinctively humped his hand, soaking him up.

“Fuck yeah, suck my fingers like they’re my cock.” He grunted when you lost yourself in the moment, your eyes shut and your cheeks hollowed around his digits.

You sucked on his fingers, your head bopped back and forth to meet his thrusts and your tongue twirled around his digits. You wished it was his cock, you wished you could taste his precum on your tongue.

He slapped your pussy, you flinched and gagged around his fingers. The sound bounced back against the walls of the stairwell. “That’s my good girl.” He spanked it again. The slaps were quick, he was not even trying to make them hurt. He was just riling you up for his own viewing pleasure of watching you fall apart under his hands.

Tears leaked from your closed eyes when Jake finally pulled his fingers out of your mouth. He smeared some more of your spit over your chin as you smiled.

He moaned as you enjoyed it. He, too, enjoyed making you look so messy and pretty for him. All the expensive clothes and jewellery he gifted you could never make you look as beautiful as you did just now, and just like the countless other times he had you crying of pleasure and begging for more.

You were begging now too: for more friction on your clit, for his fingers to stretch open your dripping pussy and, even better, for his cock to fill you up.

After a bunch of other pussy slaps that made your skin tingle, Jake pulled down his pants and underwear to the middle of his thighs. He smeared the drops of precum across his tip and used his hand that was wet from your pussy to lube himself up. “I’ve been thinking of this pussy all day long.” He groaned as he spoke, brushing his tip through your wet folds.

Your legs parted even more open as you leaned on the windowsill. The two of you moaned at the same time when he pushed himself in your entrance. Your breath got stuck in your throat and the burning sensation quickly ignited your body all the way to your core.

He kept pushing, and not slowly.The desire to feel you wrapped around him paired with the urgency of being done before getting caught had Jake going faster than usual. Soon enough, your walls gripped on all of his length and he let out another loud grunt. He leaned down, the fabric of his pink shirt tickled the exposed skin of your ass. He asked you how you managed to not make a puddle at the game from how wet you were for him.

Your response only came in a long, loud moan that was interrupted by the noise of a door opening a few levels above your head.

Jake brought both of his hands to your mouth, covering it to muffle all of your noises and only let you breathe through your nose. If you both prayed hard enough, maybe the intruder would leave without catching a glimpse of the two of you.

Your bottom halves were exposed, Jake’s pelvis rested against your ass and his cock was filling you up to the brim. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt small strokes that increased in speed as the noise from upstairs faded.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Jake chuckled as he started to properly fuck you, his skin slapping on yours from his steady thrusts. “That was a close call.”

You hummed against his hands, still unable to respond.

“I felt you clenching on my cock.” He remained pressed against you and made your legs shake from both the weight of him and the weight of the pleasure that was spreading through your body. “I know you liked that.” His left hand stayed on your mouth but his left one slid down your body to meet with your slick pussy. “You like putting on a show, don’t you?”

You tried to speak the words ‘yes Daddy’ but only incoherent noises left your mouth.

His lips curled into a big smile. “That’s my good girl.”

The windowsill created indents on the skin of your arms from how much you relied on it to hold you up. You even struggled to keep your head up to look at the blurry views of the Eiffel tower and historical buildings. With Jake’s sharp and fast thrusts that kept pushing you forward and making your head bop like a silly toy and with his hand that roughly rubbed your clit from left to right, you were getting dizzy.

It took no time for Jake to get close, and for you to notice it too. His grunts were low and he breathed heavily behind you. He, too, was mumbling nonsense to rile the two of you up and take you over the edge. Praises about how you were “so fucking wet” and how “your pussy was made for this cock” resonated in the room until he stopped his thrusts for good. He focused on you.

He rubbed your clit in tight circles at the perfect speed. He let you clench on his cock and moan at the feeling of him inside you. The noises coming out of your mouth let him know he was doing everything right. He pushed the index and middle fingers of the hand that was trying — and failing — to keep you quiet in your mouth to prevent you from alerting the whole building.

“That’s it baby, give it to me.” With a few more seconds of your slick walls clenching around him, he shot his load inside of you. At that very moment, Jake was the one who needed to be gagged so he was not so loud. Ropes of cum filled you up and the grip of your pussy on him only made his cock throb more.

But you loved his noises, and you loved the way he made those waves of pleasure wash over your body as you came not long after him. Your orgasm made you dizzier than what it took to get you there. One by one, your thoughts started to come back to you and you put the puzzle pieces together. You almost got caught. There was no way you could hang out in the stairwell and take it for a second round without getting caught. Your ears started to buzz at the idea and when you tried to tell Jake that it was time to hurry up, he pulled out.

“Shit,” He ignored your whining about the sudden emptiness and adjusted your panties quickly. “Act normal.” Jake told you, the stern tone of his voice did not pair well with the sight you caught of his face that looked as fucked out as yours.

You flattened your skirt in confusion as Jake fixed the rest of his clothes. You finally realized what had caused such havoc: other people had entered the stairwell and were walking downstairs, in your direction. There was no way you would pass off as someone who acted normal in the slightest. You had spit, sweat and tears on your face and your weak knees made it incredibly hard to stand still. Even while holding on Jake’s arm and leaning on him, you were shaking like the branches of the trees outside. That breeze would have been more than welcome while you sat outside during the tennis game.

Jake laughed quietly at your pathetic attempts and, when the people finally walked besides you to go to the lower staircases, he helped you out by planting a kiss on your lips. He avoided the possibility of small talk and he also turned your brains into complete mush. That was the smartest idea he had all day.

It did not last for long. At the second the strangers were out of sight, Jake’s hand slid between your closed legs to cup your pussy over your panties. Sure enough, they were soaked and so were your inner thighs. Your felt him smile against your lips before he broke the kiss.

“Those panties are completely useless.” He stated the obvious with a light shrug. He reached both of his hands between your legs and pulled hard enough on the wet fabric to tear it apart so he could take it off for you. “You look so pretty for me, dripping with my cum like that.”

You watched him with your jaw dropped and glossy eyes while he put the ruined lingerie in the pocket of his pink shirt. The wetness would soak through it too, but you doubted that he cared much about that detail.

He grabbed your hand, his fingers still sticky from touching your panties. “Come on, baby. We’ll order some room service.” He pulled you along until you found the closest exit out of the stairwell. Neither of you were capable of using the stairs, at least not for their intended purpose. “Wanna bet on something else?” He ignored the way you shook your head in disapproval of whatever idea had popped above his head like a cartoon light bulb. “I bet that my cum will still be dripping out of you by the time we make it up to our room.”

You awkwardly walked with your legs closed and avoided looking at anything except Jake and the elevator you were headed towards. “And I bet it will have dripped down my legs.” You whispered when you got in the elevator. Much to your dismay, you were not alone.

Jake seemed content with your reply and, before pressing a kiss on your temple, he added a counteroffer to his bet. “In that case, I’ll have to add more where it came from. I need a new lock screen anyway so I’ll take a few photos of how beautiful my baby looks.”

#jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #jake gyllenhaal x you #jake gyllenhaal

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watermelonsugacry · 2 years

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I know you’re busy but I adore your series and I was wondering if you ever thought of band member yn going through some kind of emergency on stage like someone threw something at her or she has breathing problems whatever you want to do. But like how would the boys react and such. Absolutely no rush on responding just putting it out there. All my love

anon: Anything bad like injuries or threats happen on stage and boys and harry get a little protective? Ily

A couple of moments come to mind:

In 2015, the band was all singing at the end of the catwalk. YN and Harry share the front side as they sing but right as they all go to rotate their side, some fans throw and splash water on the two of them.

Getting water thrown on stage was nothing new for the band, Louis and Liam constantly have water fights at least one time for each show, but this time was different. Harry sees the way YN flinches her head back harshly and takes a couple of steps further up the stage, putting a hand over her eye.

He glances at the crowd with furrowed eyebrows before following her to put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"Y'alright, lovie?"

"Yeh," She scrunches her right eye closed, blinking a few times and gently pushes a finger under her lashes to help ease some of the stinging. "Was fookin' beer, that one."

After holding onto her shoulders and crouching down to her eye level to make sure her eyes looked okay, it was time for him to take charge of the situation. YN continues the song as if nothing happened but notices when Harry doesn't come by her side like he's supposed to.

She looks over her shoulder and sees how Harry walks back over to their previous spot, a water bottle uncapped in one hand as he beckons the guy who threw the beer with the other. YN laughs behind her hand as she watches Harry drench the fan—who looks like he's having the time of his life—in water as revenge.

When he walks back over to her, she puts and hand on his back and leans her head to rest on his shoulder as a thank you—an interaction that had fans screaming their heads off.

After the song is over and the boys ask what happened, Harry's the first to speak up.

"He threw beer and it when in YN's eye. She doesn't even drink beer!" He retorts, making everyone laugh. "Please, carry on. I have nothing left to say to you," Harry sasses back as he passes the guy in the crowd.

"I do," YN says before showing the fan her middle finger with a sweet smile. The audience roars in a mix of screams of excitement, disbelief, and laughter as they see her break out from the 'good girl' image she constantly puts out from her management team. The boys cheer her on as they know more than anybody in the room how little she gets to express her feelings the way she wants to.

...

On the Where We Are Tour, the band stands in their usual lineup formation as YN sings the bridge for What Makes You Beautiful.

As she sings, all their attention turns to a fan lifting up their neon pink sign that reads: YN, you can have this 1 D with an arrow pointing down to himself.

YN huffs out a laugh, cocking her head to the side with a quick raise of her eyebrows at the attractive bloke in the front row.

The fans get a kick out of the way all the boys immediately furrow their eyebrows and give the guy dramatic, nasty looks. They all begin to shuffle closer around her until they eventually have her trapped in the middle of their huddle circle. Louis even takes a quick, threatening stomp towards the bloke, his arms bent and flexing down by his sides.

...

And you guys remember when YN took care of Harry when he had the stomach flu? But he told her not to because he was contagious and she was too stubborn to listen?

Well...

YN hops up onto the elevated section at the end of the stage on the Take Me Home Tour. After she belts out her high note for Love You First, she can't help but put her hand to her stomach, makes a small "O" with her lips, and lets out a deep breath. She carries on with a smile, giving a couple of waves and blown kisses to the fans in the seats next to her, and continues to sing along.

But before the song is over, she runs backstage to go empty her stomach. When she gets back, she takes a seat next to the boys who are sitting on the end of the stage she was just on as Niall and Louis talk to the crowd for a bit before the next song.

"I hate to say I told you so," Harry teases as he hands her a water bottle, one which she gladly takes gulps out of.

"Then don't," She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand before tossing the plastic bottle on the floor by their mini towels.

"Wha's going on?" Zayn leans over when he sees her place her head in her hands.

"She threw up," Harry explains.

"Why?" Liam pipes in as he goes to stand in front of his bandmates. "You pregnant or somethin'?" He teases with a chuckle.

YN huffs out a laugh at the suggestion and she lifts her head up to see how the boys have grown quiet with concern written all over their faces.

"Wha—no, m'not pregnant. Come on, lads," She scoffs with a laugh. "H passed his stomach bug onto me."

"I dunno," Zayn continues to the playful banter. "You have been spending an awful lot of time with that one bloke."

Harry snaps his head up at the comment.

"Oh yeah, what's his name again?" Liam taps his fingers against his chin in fake contemplation.

"Matt," Zayn says with a snap of his fingers.

"Okay, first of all," YN counters back with a wave of her hand. "M'gonna have a long talk with Perrie about telling yeh things. Second of all, m'not discussing my sex life with you guys."

Not like there was anything to tell for the time being anyways, she thinks to herself.

"And finally, stop talking like that. Yeh about to give poor Harry here a heart attack," She pats Harry on the chest with a giggle, snapping him from his worried expression. "Malik, cover me high notes for C'mon C'mon, yeah? My throat's killing me right now."

And with that, she stands up to walk back to the middle of the stage to join the other two band members.

"We were just teasing, man," Zayn reassures Harry with a pat on the back.

"Yeah, H. We all know your crush on her is still growing strong," Liam adds with a smirk. "YNrry for life or whatever the fans say."

"Shut up," Harry scowls before following YN as the two boys stay chuckling behind him.

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