#standing deep core exercises

[fitnessmantram]

Standing Core Exercise, Standing ab exercises, #coreworkout #coreexercis...

Also, while sit-ups and crunches are good for your abdominal muscles, they have less of an effect on other muscle groups in your core. By comparison, standing core exercises engage all the muscles in your core more effectively. Therefore, if you want to build a strong and balanced core, standing exercises are the right choice.

Read More : The Amazing Benefits of Flat Belly Tea

[miraclewoozi]

SPECTACLE. -j.ww

in which your new boyfriend, wonwoo, doesn't give a crap about his expensive eyewear.

pairing : wonwoo x fem!reader. content : smut. pwp. tags under the cut. MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT. w/c : 2.7k. notes : yeah i kinda. went insane over this idea. so. bon appetite to you, and also to wonwoo ? i guess.

content + smut tags : established - but new - relationship. making out. FACE SITTING. impact play? (one gentle butt slap). the shenanigans are on a couch if that matters, i don't know. reader is a little shy about doing it. PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything.

Wonwoo looks flushed when he pulls away from where he’s been kissing and nipping at the side of your neck, hair stuck up in every direction thanks to your tugging fingers and your gentle guidance to help him find your sweet spots. His lips are pink and a little plumped. His glasses are steaming up, sitting halfway down the bridge of his nose, and every slightly heavier breath he takes makes his broad chest rise and fall where it’s pressed wholly against yours.

You can’t help yourself from leaning forward into another kiss; he’s completely irresistible. Maybe the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. And while this isn’t really news to you, the dynamic of your relationship with him shifted a month or so ago and you’re still getting used to the privilege of seeing him this close up. 

He’s still adjusting too, if the way he groans directly into your mouth, hands groping harder at the curve of your ass as you shuffle in his lap is anything to judge by. Still learning, still figuring you out. But – and this is how you know what you’re building here might be the real deal – even when it’s clumsy, and when you knock teeth while you’re kissing and burst into slightly pained giggles, or when things accidentally slip out of place while you’re getting steamy… everything Wonwoo does makes your spine tingle. Makes your stomach flip. Makes your core throb. 

Even when it doesn’t always work? It makes sense, and it’s perfect, and losing yourself in the way his lips caress and worship yours is so damn easy when he murmurs your praises just for letting him do this in the first place.

“Will you do something for me?” He asks after a small forever, pulling back just far enough that he's not breathing up your nose. His hands have made their way under your – his – hoodie now and he’s grazing his fingers over your ribs, tickling enough to make you whimper, not enough for you to want to swat him away.

You think you’d give him the world if he asked for it in that deep, rough voice he adopts when things start heading in this direction. The moon too. Shit, if you could get a lasso around the sun and bring it closer to keep him warm, you’d do that as well. So, whatever his little request is now, you know you’re going to agree; resting your hands on his shoulders (finally leaving his gorgeous hair alone), you lean back from him and nod your head.

“Anything,” you say. You’re certain that you feel his cock twitch in his sweatpants where it’s pressed against the inside of your thigh, but you’re not quite sure why. 

It makes you feel hot, though. More-so when he bites back a grin, lips curling in that adorable way. It feels greatly unfair that you can’t swoop down right this second to kiss him again, and again, and again; as painful as it is though, you do exercise enough grace to wait for him to come out with it.

“Get up,” he says softly, dropping his hands down your sides and squeezing at your hips once. 

You do as he asks and move off his lap, sitting on the other side of the couch; he doesn’t say anything else as he stands up himself, pulls his hoodie off over his head and tosses it to one side before sinking all the way down to the floor. You raise an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t see you. He shuffles into place with his back against the edge of the seat and only once he’s comfortable does he turn to look at you over one shoulder, grinning brilliantly.

“Okay,” he says, bending his knees and planting his heels into the floor. “Come here.”

You stand up off the cushions now and look down at him for a second, wondering what on Earth is going through his mind, but you know better than to start questioning his strange ideas. Especially when he’s in this sort of a mood. You step over him, one foot either side of his hips, and start to drop down too, but he puts a hand on each of your knees and stops you before you’re in his lap once again.

“No,” Wonwoo says, shaking his head. His hands then make their way to the backs of your thighs and he pushes forwards, trying to guide you where he wants you. Your knees bend of their own accord and press against the couch on both sides of his head. “Like this.”

You don’t exactly freeze up, but it is as if you forget how to control all of your muscles for a second. The ones in your legs seem to turn to jelly and you know it’s only because the sofa is currently taking a portion of your weight that you don’t buckle completely and fall onto the top of his head. The ones in your face give you a slack-jawed, wide-eyed, unblinking expression. 

Your abdominal muscles tighten and your cunt flutters at what you’re sure he’s trying to suggest, the rush of wetness you feel only worsened by the intensity in his eyes as he tips his head back and looks at you.

“Please?” He asks, all sweet but deep and rough at the same time. 

“Are you s–?” You start to ask. 

Wonwoo clicks his tongue at you and tries to encourage you further onto the couch to prove his point. “Yes,” he says, nodding eagerly. 

And then, just so you really can’t mistake what he's asking for–

“I want you to sit on my face.”

Your entire body heats up at how bluntly he says it. You squeeze your eyes shut and bite the inside of your cheek so that you don’t accidentally laugh with the nerves already trying to burst out of your tummy. 

It’s not that you don’t want to. If you had a penny for every time you’d thought about him giving himself up for your pleasure this way, you’d be rich. You do. You’re going a little crazy just imagining how good it’s going to feel. 

It’s just that him being so bold about it has you feeling shy, and that’s never happened to you before. You’re at a loss. You’re totally stumped.

When you open your eyes again and look down at him, Wonwoo is just as earnest and hungry for you as he was a few seconds ago. If anything, it’s as if he wants it more. It’s without a doubt the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and before you can talk yourself out of it, you’re nodding at him; his fingers start to drag up and down the backs of your thighs happily, before they hook under the waistband of your shorts and gently make that first little pull.

“If you don’t like it, we can stop,” he says to you, only pulling them all the way down when you start to help him. They get tossed over to the side to join his hoodie after you step out of them. His eyes glance to the panties you’re wearing – the last barrier, the final thing keeping him from what he’s so desperate for – before he looks back at your face and flashes you a smile. “Just tell me, okay?”

“It’s not that,” you laugh softly, taking off your own jumper and throwing it onto the pile. Wonwoo groans at the sight of you; you roll your eyes at him. “You just… took me by surprise.”

“Good,” he sighs, wrapping an arm around one of your legs and letting you settle onto your knees in position over his mouth, pressing his fingers into the top of your thigh. 

The first soft press of his lips over your panties makes you gasp and you hold a little tighter onto the back cushions as you look down at him. His eyes are closed already as he breathes your heady scent in, deep enough to hopefully stain his lungs, enough that he’ll never get rid of it, that he’ll be able to carry you everywhere he goes. 

But Wonwoo’s closed eyes aren’t the only thing you notice between your thighs and a soft laugh replaces the pleased sounds already spilling from your lips. One hand drops down to where he's settled and your fingers brush against his temple as they try to pinch at one side of his glasses. He looks affronted when he catches your gaze.

“What’re you doing?” He asks, gently moving your hand away. 

You tilt your head at him. “Your glasses,” you prompt, moving to reach for them again. His fingers curl around your wrist and he shoves your hand into his hair instead, rubbing the tip of his nose against the inside of your thigh.

“I want to keep them on,” he tells you.

“What if they break?”

“Don’t care,” he hums, kissing his way back towards your covered pussy. “I’ll buy a new pair. I just wanna see you.”

You swallow at this and decide that you’re definitely not going to try and change his mind, instead choosing to tilt your head back and let his skilled tongue work you up through your underwear. It’s a mess of arousal and spit and they’re soaked, translucent, clinging to you by the time he’s frustrated with them; frankly, so are you, and it's a relief when he concludes that enough is enough.

“Baby,” he groans as he pulls your underwear to one side and has to crane his neck up to lick the flat of his tongue in a stripe up your slit. You whine, the cool air and his hot breaths a menacing mix of sensations, but you don’t have the sense to respond; one soft slap of his hand against your ass makes you look back down at him, though, and you’re met with dark eyes, flushed cheeks and a practically frenzied Wonwoo in the space between your hips. Your sweet, softly spoken boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

“I said, sit.”

His strong arm tugs you down and your knees slide against the cushions, bringing your pussy even closer to his face, literally forcing you to rest against his lips. He chuckles triumphantly and buries his tongue between your folds, tasting you so much more legitimately than before. The way he loves – straight from the source, the spring. You feel him prod at your hole and your walls clench around what he gives you – barely just the tip, but it’s enough to have you reeling already, and when his other arm hooks around your other thigh, when he starts to move you back and forth, you take very little convincing to start to rock your hips down against him on your own.

“Oh,” you whimper as his lips seal around your clit and he sucks at it once, giving a few experimental flicks of his tongue at the same time. The hand in his hair tightens immediately and Wonwoo groans with you still in his mouth, sending delicious vibrations through your sensitive nerves and making you gush onto his chin. 

“So fucking pretty like this,” he tells you, stroking his thumb over your waist. “Might be my new favourite view.”

He keeps lapping at you teasingly, testing circles and sideways motions, precise swipes, long drags; every subtle change as he tries to find what makes you scream in this position draws a different sound from your throat. He tenses the muscle and fucks your dribbling hole with it while encouraging you to move enough forward that his nose bumps against your clit with every jerky rock of your hips. You’re grinding faster, now, pressing down against his mouth harder, caring less by the second about whether his glasses are actually going to break in two. Besides, the way he drinks you down tells you that he could do this for a week straight without getting tired; he doesn’t want you to stop, or slow down, or ease up. He wants more. And if you’re too shy to give it to him, he’ll just take, take, take.

“Just– oh, fuck,” you gasp as his tongue finds your clit again and he laps at it with so much zeal that he could rival your favourite vibrator. “Just like that–”

Both of his hands grasp you tighter, squeezing and massaging and kneading at your soft skin as you chase your high on his pretty face. His eyes are tightly closed in his own rapture, and you hope that he won’t blame you for wanting him to open them; your hand pulls harshly at his hair again, hard enough to make him cringe, enough to make him stop for just a second before he sees how wound-up you look. You try to pull off from him a little, at least enough for him to catch a couple of breaths, but Wonwoo captures your pussy between his lips before you even hear him inhale.

“You– you wanted to s—see me,” you stutter out as the fire starts to catch and you feel warmth and ecstasy start to build at your core. “Fuck– ah–”

So he does. With big, hungry eyes, Wonwoo watches as you hurtle towards oblivion, as you writhe and squirm and grind down against his ardent mouth.

He sends you crashing over the edge with a wet sob, your own eyes closing now as you see stars in the darkness and ride your high out on his still-moving tongue. There are tears on your cheeks before you can do anything about it. Your walls spasm around nothing. He barely slows, taking back enough pressure so that your pleasure doesn’t turn to pain. He’s pretty sure he doesn’t even blink until you’re out the other side of your climax, though.

When your pants start to die down and you’re twitching to get away from him, so sensitive that even his tiny kisses make you shudder, Wonwoo drops his head back down to the pillows and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. You don’t have the strength to move yet, still reeling, still too floaty to try for any level of coordination, but he doesn’t mind. Your swollen, glistening pussy right over his face is something he'd pay millions to see.

“Didn’t even break the glasses,” you laugh weakly once your voice decides to come back to you. 

“Mm,” Wonwoo hums, sliding them off his nose and inspecting them. He ‘tsk’s before putting them back on. They’re steamed at the edges and a little smeary now, and he surely can’t actually see that clearly through them. He obviously doesn’t care. “That’s not good enough.”

“Huh?” you ask, moving carefully so as not to plant your knee into his jaw but still trying to bring your legs together so that you can sit to one side. He isn't having it, though, and slowly shuffles up onto his knees, turns around to face you and lays his fingers on one of your ankles, wasting no time in trying to pry your legs apart again.

“That’s. Not. Good. Enough,” he repeats, using his other hand to palm himself over the fabric of his sweatpants. The tent in them would be comical if it weren’t for the animalistic look in his eyes; there’s nothing laughable about the way he’s looking at you right now, though.

“So what are we gonna do about it?” You ask, opening back up for him and not hiding how you stare as he rips his shirt off over his head. Then, he slides his fingertips up the inside of your calf, to your knee, down your thigh… he drags them over the lips of your pussy and collects a little of your slick on them before bringing his hand to his lips and sucking it clean.

“I’ve got a few ideas,” he tells you, groaning at your sweet taste as if he wasn’t just drowning in it a minute and a half ago. He lowers himself until he's once more level with your cunt and guides both of your legs over his shoulders, smirking up at your expectant face. “Maybe try to squeeze your thighs a little more this time. See if that does the trick.”

thank you so much for reading!! i hope u enjoyed this hehe. as always, likes, reblogs, replies, feedback and asks are always super appreciated.<3

[royal-bubble-tea]

Stray Kıds - Bang Chan - Imagine

Have you seen the Clip of Bang Chan working out and lifting 140kg!!! Like what the hell?! This man is soooooo fine! He is bias wrecking me so hard lately, I can barely handle it.

Breathing, working, moving

Bang Chan x gn! Reader (smut🔥)

Imagine Bang Chan invited you to work out with him. Nothing to serious just working up a healthy sweat and spending some quality time together.

Bang Chan was already working out when you entered to gym. He looks up to to greet you but his mind imediatly goes into overdrive. There you are in tight sports wear, the curves of your body for everyone to see. Not that your clothes are very revealing but as someone who prevers wider and more baggy clothes on a daily basis Bang Chan is over the moon to be able to admire you so freely.

As you walk over to him with a big smile on your face, happy to see your ray of sunshine and spend some time with him, he has to remind himself to stay calm and not alert you to his current struggle to not make the heat in his stomach spread. While hugging you in greeting he might hold you a little bit longer, squeeze you closer and making sure as many body parts of yours as possible are touching. The two of you start with a light warm up and while you are enjoying yourself Bang Chan is to busy to watch your body move. The movement of your thighs as you work out is hypnotising to him. As you move on to some more strenous exercises Bang Chan has a a hard time controlling himself. Seeing you work up a sweat has images occupying his mind. His eyes trace a pearl of sweat starting at you temple trailing down your neck and finally dissapearing underneath you shirt. He wants nothing more than to trace those sweet pearls with his tongue. He wants to taste you, feel the veins in your neck move underneath you skin as he traces it with his tongue. Hear you stuttering breaths.

You are oblivious to Chan's internal struggle as you are fighting your own demons. Seeing him lift those weights as if its nothing, still being able to smile at you and make you to laugh has heat spreading trough your stomach. With every bang of those weights against the floor more and more butterflies flutter inside you. But it's him winking at you as if he knows what you are thinking causes those butterflies to turn into something hotter. Something that spreads like lava through your core. Images of pushing him to the floor and straddling his thick thighs start flooding your mind but a particular one sticks with you, causes your cheeks to turn pink and making you want to press you legs together to give you some well deserved friction. It is about him walking up to you, grabbing you underneath your thighs and lifting you up like you weigh nothing. Him smirking at you before bringing your lips together into a searing kiss.

Chan still faced with his internal struggle almost groans out loud when you walk over to the bench press. There he is standing in front of you, between your spread legs thinking dark and dirty toughts while he is supposed to spot you, to support you but he is barely able to hold it together. Finally Chan snaps when he hears you take a deep breath and exhaling shakily. He pulls the bar up and away from you. Now without anything in his way he looks down at you. Your body drenched in sweat, breathing heavily and splayed out for him.

You are confused as to what is going on with Chan but before you can ask him why he put the bar away he is aleady lowring himself. Slotting himself between you spread legs and slowly making his way up your body. His warm breath is hitting you and you search his face for an answer, which you find quickly. He is breathing hard and his pupils are blown. You notice that his eyes are moving between yours and your lips and before he can ask you if this is okay with you, the tension between you two snaps. You lean up, bring your arms around his broad shoulders and slot your mouths together. This is what you have been thinking about for the past 30 minutes. This is what you both were craving. You start by nipping at his bottom lip. Catching it between your teeth, pulling it back a little bit and hearing him whimper is exactly what you want. Chan is putty in your hands. He is loving the feeling of your lips against his, your hands running trough his hair and pulling slightly, making him exhale into your mouth. You use this chance to swipe your tongue into his mouth. Tracing his with yours, he moans breathlessly into your mouth. While he is distracted chasing your mouth and your tongue, you move your hands down his body and underneath his shirt. You feel the muscles in his back move, from him holding himself up to not crush you. But this is exactly what you want. You trace your hands down his back again, nails scratching him and hearing him whimper again, gives you the confidence you need for your next move. You grab his hips and pull him down on you, your legs coming up to squeeze him between your thighs and rolling your pelvis into his. He stopps kissing you, buries his head into your neck and moans out loud. You repeat the same move over and over again and Chan is at a loss for words. He continues to moan into your neck, to overrun by emotions and sensations to do much else. You can feel him getting hard and pressing into you, the friction making you moan and whimper as well. Hearing your sweet noises pulls Chan out of his own head. He traces one hand down your body, he squeezes your chest, loving the moan that leaves your lips. His hand moves to your hips, he grabs you tightly and pushes you even closer to him. You both can feel each others body heat and the sweat clinging to you. Chan starts rolling his hips into you causing you to throw you head back and he finally leans in to lick the sweat of your neck. You can feel is tongue tracing your neck, sucking and biting at your skin. Your hands claw their way up his back again, hips moving into his more passionatly. You can feel the heat in your lower stomach spreading. Chan is no different than you. His hips move more irregular, his moans getting louder and more out of control. He grips your hips tighter and grinds down with more purpose, just wanting to make you both feel good. The heat inside your lower stomach is boderline painful. What finally pushes you over the edge, is hearing his deep moans right into your ear. The heavy inhales and shaky exhales are music for you. You come with white blotches in the corner of your vision. The heat in your stomach explodes and you breathily moan his name.

Hearing his name falling from your lips. Your head thrown back in ecstasy has him stumbling over the edge as well. He throws his head back, brockenly moaning your name.

You both are trying to catch you breath, coming down from you highs. Chan is leaning back up again and you follow him. You both look at each other and start laughing. Realising the situation you both are in, being incredibly lucky that you were alone at this time of day in JYP's own company gym. "I think that was one of the most intense work-outs I have done in a while", Chan says while looking at you and smiling cutely, dimples full on display. "If this is your definition of a work-out I might join you more often", you reply with a wink.

He helps you stand up and you both make your way towards the showers. This had to be the fastest shower each of you had ever taken as you both are to exited to go back to his dorm, continuing were you left of.

Phew, that was a lot. After this I am really craving some Matcha Latte with Taro Boba. My bestie makes the best I ever had🤤🥺

[alphajocklover]

Hey man, so I've tried to be passive most of my life and not cause trouble. Not breaking many rules, doing as I'm told, and it just leaves me with so much missed chances and getting walked all over. I'm kind of tired of it.

I wanna be abrasive, not rude but confident. Almost cocky. And I want the looks to match. I wanna be huge, and bulky, and hairy too. I don't wanna be smart and focused on academics, I wanna chuck balls and pump my cock all day. Weird enough too, I wanna be sweaty. I wanna raise my arms and watch a bunch of gay dudes just melt like puddy.

The best part is, I wanna *feel* this transformation. I want to watch my arms get huge, I wanna hear my voice get deeper, and my chest push out and almost tear my chest. I wanna be...I wanna be...I wanna be a fuckin JOCK

I want to start by assuring you that everything you’ve said, everything you’ve been feeling, makes sense. There are a lot of people out there who are like you, people who have spent their entire lives just blending in. It’s natural to want to fit in, but when you spend so much of your life trying to fit into the norm, it can be easy to forget who you really want to be. When that happens, most people try to change things up. Some chase after a specific new self they dream of being, while others experiment with different identities, trying to find one that fits. But then, there's people like you. People who have spent far too long trying to fit in. For people like you, blending in isn’t a curse: it’s a superpower.

What you have to understand is that a person's identity is far more powerful than you might realize. There's a reason people take names so seriously. Psychologically, socially, and even magically, they’re important. So when a person leaves so much of their identity up to the people around them… it makes sense that a transformation might occur. That they change, literally change, to blend in with others. We call these people Camous. People who have the power to socially blend in, literally, with the world around them. They’re sort of the opposite of Alphas. Alphas change reality to fit their whims, Campus change to fit reality. And from what I hear, you’re becoming one. I know this might sound a little frightening, since having your identity threatened will do that to anyone. But this is a good thing. While changing is scary, you won’t change entirely. Your body, your personality, your traits, and even your reality will change depending on who you’re around, but the core of your identity, your soul will stay the same. You’ll still be you, just… altered. And being a Camou gives you a lot of advantages. It’s true that you won’t ever stand out really, but you’ll always fit in and always be part of a group. And, better than that, you can use your power to choose who you want to be. You want to be a jock, right? A sweaty, hairy, manly jock who makes gay guys weak in the knees? All you have to do is find a group of jocks to join! It isn’t hard to find a group of jocks, even the specific type of hairy gay jocks you’re looking for. You just have to find the right gym, and I know just the one. The Jockstrap is a local gym specifically made to cater to people like you. Or the people you want to be like I suppose. I want you to take a deep breath as we enter. Do you smell that sweat? That manly musk? Breathe in deep, it’ll help the process. Unlike one of the more famous transformation methods I’ve written about, this one isn’t instant. You’re going to feel your biceps fill with muscle, your pecs bursting forward as your body is covered in a respectable smattering of manly hair. It’s already happening. Your shoulders are widening as your chest continues to grow, needing more room on your body. Your legs, your arms, your ass… everything is growing. But that isn’t the only thing that's changing. Your mind is too. I can see the excitement in your eyes as you look around. Working out, exercising, playing sports, hanging with the bros… you’re already getting excited by the thought of it. And without getting too explicit, it’s obvious that you’re excited in other ways. I can see it through your sweat pants (I guess your clothing changed too) and it must be at least 8 inches by now, soft. That rod, your muscles, and the sheer amount of manly musk that's coming from your body now? You’re going to have twinks throwing themselves at you.

Now, since you’re a Camou this transformation isn’t permanent. It’ll last for a while, longer depending on how much time you spend at the gym surrounded by your new bros. The general rule is if you spend one hour with a group, you get three hours as one of them, unless you spend time with a new group immediately after. But the really exciting part is that once you have a form, you can turn into that version of yourself… with some practice, and if you aren’t currently with a large group. 

I honestly can’t believe I haven’t talked about Camous beforehand. Granted, you’re only the second Camou I’ve ever met, but they’re so interesting I can’t believe I’ve never brought them up. I hope you enjoy being a jock, or whoever else you want to try out being. Just, try not to fall in with a bad crowd.

[yanderestarangel]

HEADCANONS MIGUEL O'HARA | FTM O'HARA X FTM READER

˚｡⋆.☆TW: afab anatomy, praise, t4t, use of testosterone, mention of dysphoria, fingering, smut, soft!boyfriend miguel, eat out, switch!miguel.

˚｡⋆.☆ I just wanted to write about ftm miguel ohara for a while now, I had never seen a ftm miguel x ftm reader, so... I wrote it.

♡ ₊ ˚— Contrary to what everyone at spidersociety thinks, dating Miguel is a happy and comforting experience, especially when you share the same struggle, experience and pain - being trans men - he is much more open to a debate when he knows that you. He is also an FTM person, thus beginning a calm friendship that in the future led to the two of you dating.

♡ ₊ ˚— However, obviously, O'Hara will not fall in love with you just because you two are equal, but because he saw in you a more peaceful and welcoming future, away from the pain that being a Spider-Man brought, he lost a daughter and he doesn't want to lose you either. He is a lonely, rude man, but deep down, he just needs to be loved too - if you are his safe haven, he will be yours.

♡ ₊ ˚— He will want to know everything about how you feel about your body, gender, etc. If you want to make a complete transition like him - major surgery, testosterone etc - he won't hesitate to recommend the same doctors who took care of him and will also go to every appointment you go to. Miguel will always be by your side, helping you make the best decisions to be comfortable with yourself, he will even give you the list of exercises he does and also help you train every day. However, if you don't want to touch anything and you feel good about your body, it will support you in the same way, regardless of everything, Miguel O'Hara is your boyfriend and respects you more than anything in the multiverse.

♡ ₊ ˚— If you suffer from dysphoria, he will find a way to make you see the incredible man you are, he will praise you, talk to you and use all the resources he can to make you feel good about yourself, Hugging you for hours and leaving you in his lap while he listens to your every outburst, running his hand down your back while whispering that everything is going to be okay.

♡ ₊ ˚— Miguel likes you to kiss or trace with your finger the scars from his top surgery, whenever he is shirtless, sweaty after a list of exercises, he will show off for you - he is attention-starved, Please pay attention to Miguelito - he will stand in front of you, smiling seductively as he watches you drool over his physique. "-You can touch me if you want, mi amor..." He would speak in a provocative tone, but soon the leader's 'don juan' banner would fall, when he saw you kiss his scars, making him blush and let out a soft moan, taking his big hands to your hair and caressing the locks, you are his soft spot... And he doesn't mind being a soft boyfriend with you.

♡ ₊ ˚— O'Hara also likes to hold your hand every time he gives himself testosterone injections. He's not afraid of needles, after all, he needs to apply ruptures too to make himself weaker. However, every time he applies it, being with you by his side is a refreshing sight, it's a quick action but one that means a lot to him and to you too. The futuristic Spider-Man will always hug you afterwards... But be prepared to also deal with the uncontrollable lust he gets after that.

♡ ₊ ˚— Miguel likes to fuck you, and be fucked. He will return home with a dripping pussy after an extremely stressful tiring day, the Mexican will not even give you time to think straight, just lifting you over his shoulder and taking you to the surface closest to the house - opening your thighs , exposing your pussy to him while he brought his lips to your core, hungrily licking your wet skin. “-Give me that pussy, be a good boy...” Miguel growls out, fucking you with his fingers and tongue at the same time. His own pussy twitches in anticipation as he continues to tease and tantalize you. "-So fucking good..," he mutters between suckles - Miguel pushed four fingers inside of you, curving them upward towards your G-spot. You let out a gasp of surprise at the intense stimulation causing waves of pleasure to course through your body. "-Like that?" He'll make you cum first, and then you'll be able to return the favor.

♡ ₊ ˚— O'Hara will rub himself against your face, his pussy dripping, taking extreme care not to hurt you with his weight. “-Fuck... cariño...” Miguel groans loudly into the room. “-Suck my clit harder... make me cum all over your tongue.” He feels your mouth enveloping his pussy, the warm wetness enclosing him in a way that sends shivers down his spine. His hips buck involuntarily against your face as he reaches out for your head, trying to guide it further downwards. He will shake and moan over your mouth, holding your hair tightly.

♡ ₊ ˚— He and you have a variety of sex toys, especially a custom-made and technological strap-on, which sends waves of pleasure through his pussy with each thrust he makes in your cunt. You'll be able to fuck him too, Miguel really doesn't mind letting you take control sometimes. He will want to be praised too, things like that. "-Such a good boy for me" "-Fuck Miguel, you are so beautiful fucking my pussy like that" "-I love you so much mi guapo" among others, make the brunete blush and whimper with pleasure, especially if you suck your nipples him, while fucking him until you're both a shaking, sweaty mess on the bed - he also loves to dominate you and talk dirty to you when it's his turn to dominate you. Things like: “-You make me so fucking wet.”, "-Let loose all those dirty thoughts about me… say them.", “-You like this? Wanting me so bad that even my pussy craves yours?", "-Do you want me to finger-fuck you hard and fast? Or should I take my time, exploring every inch of you?", "-Cumming soon mi amor..."

♡ ₊ ˚— Miguel also likes the 'scissor' position, making your two clits touch, a wet mess from both of your overstimulated pussies - he'll hold you close to him with his strong arms, dictating the speed - Or, he'll hold you close make you rub your pussy against his muscular thighs, while teasing you, just breaking you to the point of seeing you squirt on him, but, you can also do the same, kissing him while fingering every creamy wall of your spider boyfriend.

♡ ₊ ˚— After you two exhaust your energy fucking all over the house, he'll make sure you're okay, cleaning you up and kissing you, whispering how you pleased him and how lucky he is to have you in his life. The two of you will sleep cuddled together afterwards, with Miguel reassuring you and telling you that you can sleep in peace, that he will be there when you wake up.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

[torialefay]

6 with CHANGBIN…… 😩

One Hell of a Workout 💣

boyfriend!changbin x horny!fem!reader smut

✨ synopsis: your & your boyfriend's sleep schedule is fucked up, which in turn means your gym schedule is also fucked up. late night workout sessions may end up not being so bad 👀

✨ wc: ~2k

✨ warnings: smut ahead- minors DNI; cursing; unprotected sex, public sex

• you knew you shouldn't, but you couldn't help it. changbin just looked too fucking good.

• you'd gone to the gym with him superrr late. not because you were particularly dedicated, but because it is currently only 5 PM in the country you just got back from... and seeing his arms and shoulders as he worked out was never a bad sight.

• something about the smell of him and the way his little curls stuck to his head once he started to sweat got you riled up more than anything else in the world.

• as you were finishing your squat reps, you couldn't help but to watch the contour of the muscles in his back out of the corner of your eye. you were the only person bin would workout in front of without a shirt on. and god, the way he looked at the end of his lat pulldowns... let's just say you were starting to get wet, and not from the sweat.

• you weren't quite sure what it was. why you were so horny all of a sudden. you'd usually never be this side tracked about him. BUT with bin having shows every night recently, he didn't always have the time, energy, or opportunity to be intimate with you... and this was the result. too much pent up desire.

• after clearing your weights and getting a drink of water, you watched changbin as he laid down to start his bench press. the way his arms bulged just by angling them up to grab the bar was so yummy that you couldn't stand it.

• "want me to spot, babe?" you asked, trying to sound as non-chalant as possible.

• "i don't know how much you'll be able to help if i get crushed, but sure why not," he said, chuckling to himself.

• you bit your lip as you walked over, about to situate yourself over top of him.

• swinging your leg over his hips, it took everything in you not to sit down and straddle him.

• "good?" he asked.

• "you're good. you got this!" he'd already done his warming up, so he was moving onto something a bit more challenging.

• as he removed the bar and began to pump his arms up, you helped him count. "1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... 7... 8... 9... 10."

• "aghh," he let out a deep breath, moving the bar back onto the rack.

• "well, this is a pretty sight," he said, moving his head down to look at you over top of him.

• 'this i can work with,' you thought.

• you smirked at him before lowering your pelvis, letting yourself rest right on top of his hips. you were hoping the contact would work in your favor.

• "babyyy, come on now," he said, throwing his head back in a tiny giggle. he definitely thought you were joking.

• "what's the matter?" you asked, big eyed, moving your hands down to rest on the sides of his torso, tight from the extra core exercises he'd been doing lately.

• "you know you can't be doing this. come on, you've gotta stand back up," he said smiling up at you. he was about to shake his head laughing in disbelief.

• "but why?" you teased, letting your hands trail further inwards and run gently up and down his abdomen.

• "why?!" he moved his head to look left and right. "because we are literally in the gym right now! in public!"

• you smiled playfully as you ever so slightly began to move your hips up and down on him. just the tiniest bit to gage his reaction.

• "technically," you started, "this is a *private gym... and who else is gonna be here at 3 in the morning?"

• when you sensed no hesitancy on his side, you let yourself grind a little harder, making full contact with what you could now feel as his bulge. you wanted to go slowly. to make sure that every last centimeter of him felt you.

• "ah fuck," he smiled while exhaling loudly. "you're not gonna make this easy, are you?"

• "if you realllly don't want it," you let your hands wander to his chest, massaging into him, "then say it and i'll stop."

• you couldn't help the smile on your face. knowing that he was putty underneath you. hoping he'd just give in already. hoping you could give each other what you knew you both desperately needed.

• bin didn't say anything. he just shut his eyes, looking like he was concentrating on some imaginary thing in his head.

• when he held that position and didn't go on to say anything, you took it as your cue to stop. you slowly brought your hands back to yourself and halted your hips from rocking on him.

• "i'm sorry binnie, i don't know what got into me," you mumbled, now feeling embarrassed at the ordeal, your own boyfriend not able to look at you. you slowly began to stand back up just over top of him.

• before you could think another thought, changbin's hands gripped hard on your hips, pushing you back down on him.

• "i didn't say to stop," he mumbled lowly, as if the words were coming from deep within his chest. it wasn't anger in his voice. it was more of a... whine? a plea? ... something that made you horny.

• with a victorious smile on your face, you reveled in his actions, taking this opportunity to get what you desperately needed.

• "feels that good, huh?" you toyed with him a bit before starting to pick up speed again, grinding back and forth over his clothed cock.

• "hush," he said, covering his smile with his hands. he felt like there was no way this was really happening to him right now. no way that this was his reality.

• you took your time, slowly and sweetly grinding on him until you felt your clit begin to throb. all of the sensation had built up, leaving it swollen and exposed to your underwear, steadily and deliciously.

• "oh fuck," you moaned, throwing your head back and savoring the way that changbin's hard shaft fit so perfectly between your lips, massaging you without even trying.

• as you heard light moans escaping changbin's mouth, you quickly slid down him slightly so you could palm him through his shorts. his cock was rock solid, and as you stroked up and down, he began to wince. as bad as he wanted to cover it up, you knew he was getting overly worked up.

• "i wanna take these off," you pleaded, pulling on the waistband of his shorts and boxers.

• toying around with them for a bit, you slowly pulled up and shimmied them down until they were around changbin's ankle, leaving him exposed.

• as you stood, you took the opportunity to slide your pants down, taking one leg out and then the other so you could throw the clothing on the floor beside you.

• changbin propped himself up by leaning his elbows on the bench. his eyes now full of light and wonder, he took in the sight of your lower body now unclothed for him in the middle of the gym. his safe haven and safe space... now absolutely stained with lustful thoughts.

• throwing yourself back onto him, you straddled his lap for a bit, letting his tip get covered in your juices. you felt your breath hitch just a bit as you rubbed up and down just the right spot.

• when you were satisfied with your plan, you quickly lifted your hips up and guided him to your entrance. in one swift motion, you removed your hand from his cock and instead left it to rest on his stomach.

• you felt yourself relax around him as you sank down, devouring every last centimeter.

• changbin sucked his teeth in slightly at the feeling of his dick pushing inside you, relaxing once he was fully in and you were finally stretched around him.

• you knew you had plenty of time, and you wanted to enjoy every last, tiny inch of movement between you two.

• as you angled your body forward, you moved both hands up until they were pressing into changbin's chest.

• you let yourself lean into the luscious rhythm you had before, slowly grinding forward and backward around him.

• as you went, you slowly built up your pace. you didn't mean for it to happen already, but with each movement of your hips, your clit began to pulse, begging for more.

• as you rocked back and forth, back and forth, you heard a few disgruntled moans from changbin, encouraging you to keep going.

• you threw your head back in pleasure as you started violently thrusting yourself up on him, the sensation becoming too great for you to bear.

• faster, faster, faster, chasing that sweet realesse until "fuckkkkkkkk" was all you could say.

• you immediately started twitching around changbin as you rode out your high, his hands coming around to stabilize your ass and hold you down on him until you were completely finished.

• trying to catch your breath, you leaned down onto your arms, closer to changbin's chest. your body was so exhausted, you weren't sure what to do next.

• but changbin had his own plans. before you knew what was happening, his arms had wrapped around you completely, pulling your face and stomach flat onto him as he began to violently buck his hips up and thrust inside of you.

• and jesus christ did it feel good.

• deep, guttural moans flew out of his mouth with each sharp thrust, with the sound of skin slapping following right after. the pace was quickly becoming too much to handle.

• cursing under his breath, changbin easily wrapped his hands into your hair and pulled, arching your back for him and letting him get a good look at your face.

• you moaned out as you focused on all of him. the feeling of his tip hitting your cervix repeatedly. the aggression on his face while looking at you. the one hand that was now urgently squeezing your ass, definitely leaving bruises behind.

• he was just too fucking good.

• "this what you wanted baby?!" changbin spat as you quivered over top of him.

• "ahh fuck," he bit down, focusing his eyes on your face and the way your tits bounced every time he pounded into you.

• as his thrusts got harder and sloppier, you knew he was close. with one final yank of your hair, he pulled you all the way back to arch your ass just perfectly for him. he loved the sight of you losing your breath over it.

• one, two, three more thrusts, and "oh fuck. oh fuck. aghhhhh fuckkkkk," he moaned out as he came, letting go of your hair and letting your body fall lifeless on top of him as he continued to fuck into you and ride out his high.

• like his own little rag doll, he used you until he absolutely couldn't stand it anymore. he was completely drained and overstimulated.

• you both laid there for a few seconds, panting heavily to catch your breath. laying on top of him, you heard his heart beat continuing to slow in his chest as he rested and regained his conscience.

• once you'd both calmed down, you finally got the chance to get words out.

• "that was too fucking good, binnie," you smiled, going up to peck him on the lips.

• "that was one hell of a workout," he laughed, beginning to sit up now. you, still seated in his lap, got a perfect view of his face and sweaty curls as he rested now on his tailbone.

• "seeeee," you teased, "we should do it again sometime." you coyly smiled.

• "you might just talk me into it," changbin said, leaning his forehead on yours.

• you both sat in solidarity for a moment, just admiring one another before changbin broke the peace. "i love you and all, but we've gotta put our pants back on." he looked down at the haphazardly strewn clothes around him.

• "and we should probably wipe this thing down about 5 times before we leave," you giggled before standing up.

---------------------------

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[grimesgirll]

rick has to be the most possessive man you know.

you love him, but you also love daryl.

so that complicates things. it confuses you even more the number of times both of the men managed to have you bent over between them. being as jealous as rick is, it’s hard to believe that he could even think to share you. daryl’s his brother however, and you’re an individual, you can make your own decisions, rick guesses.

he can’t fault you for your obsession with his best friend. daryl’s a moral man, a provider, good looking enough that you can’t help but run your hands through his hair every chance you get. sometimes it takes rick some deep breaths and a moment of grounding to contain his jealousy. he loves you too much to not see red every time you’re swooning for someone who isn’t him. he even loves daryl but he can’t help it, not when it’s you.

so rick will never stand between you and daryl, not when you show no signs of ever dropping your infatuation with either man, especially not the sheriff. everyday when he comes home and plops down on the sofa after a day of his enduring constable’s duties, you’re on top of him in his lap. you don’t even have to be horny to make yourself at home with your head against his chest.

adoring his deep blue eyes, you straddle him every opportunity you get for the time to lock eyes, hands on his shoulders and his on your hips as you talk about your days. after a long day out in the community, it doesn’t take long for rick’s dick to tent in his jeans and you to feel a pressure against your clothed slit.

it isn’t uncommon for daryl or rick to come home and find you curled up with the other on the sofa. so rick has to endure the empathy exercise that is not dragging you from the sofa, tossing you over his shoulder and retiring to the bedroom for the night.

plush lips parted with only your breath coming through, you just melt into them whenever you have the opportunity. one look and you’re a puddle.

how can he not be jealous when you’re this fucking sweet?

he tries to extend daryl the same courtesy of enjoying you without the drama but rick is still getting used to the dynamic - more than the group is at this point.

the three of you were an unusual case but the group had gotten used to it after long enough. it only took a few weeks for them not to take a second glance at rick’s hands on your waist or how daryl’s crossbow could almost always be found somewhere around your sleeping situation.

that’s why it’s not awkward when carl knocks on the door in the mornings to hand judith off to his father and you and daryl are snoozing away in the background. you do your best to keep the pda to a minimum but the neighborhood doesn’t mind, so rick often doesn’t.

you think back to gabriel's church in georgia; you'd been hiding with the members of your group that had stayed while the others went out to do in the cannibals once and for all. your plan had went off without a hitch but that didn't mean that the event hadn't shaken you to the core.

one of the savages whose name you couldn't be bothered to remember had graphically described how specifically delicious your parts would be.

rick slashed his throat.

the entire series of events had rick on edge but even after the bloodbath, rick couldn’t stand to have you out of his sight.

“what’re you doin’ all the way over here?”

you tensed up.

“rick, i-,”

“why the fuck were you wandering off?”

you paused, recognizing the ire in rick’s voice when you hear it. you almost wanted to say nothing to avoid what you know will be a fight regardless but you know you’ll be accused of not speaking up.

“i didn’t mean to. i was stretching my legs. i’ll stay closer.”

“yeah, you will.”

the group’s known about how rick feels for you for a while.

it’s why you’re wrapped up in rick’s arms while you watch your newly assimilated group and the alexandrians trying their hands at the compound bows hanging around the makeshift archery range.

daryl’s leaving everyone in the dust of course.

“show off,” you whisper to rick who snickers in agreement.

this is nice; quaint and tranquil, just like the suburbs out to be. you never imagined ending up essentially married with two husbands and two children, shacked up in a gated community in a nearly million dollar house with the dead being a greater issue than a mortgage or getting the kids into college but you’re content with it.

you’d rather watch as daryl does trick shots - going as far to pull out the old splitting the arrow in half trick, which you almost whistle at. are they going to put an apple on the windmill next? you chuckle at the thought.

“when are you going up?” maggie calling your name snaps you out of your musings about daryl.

you scoff at her playfully. “you know i’m a bad shot, maggie.”

the redhead shrugs. “don’t think you’re as bad as you say you are. c’mon, even the kids are trying it.”

she’s not wrong - even sam is picking up a bow and giving it a try with some encouraging from ron.

“sure,” accepting the challenge, you untwist yourself from rick; not before indulging in one last full lipped kiss, a “good luck” on rick’s lips as you head to the picnic table to gear up.

you select a familiar looking compound bow and join daryl at the shooting line. he frowns when he catches sight of your arm.

“wait, baby, you’re not even wearin’ your armband right.”

you shrug. “it’s been a while.”

he’s in you; fixing the nearly sideways arm shield. muttering about you never taking safety too seriously. you’d beg to differ but you’re too bewitched by his striking blue eyes up close. the man slides the band in place before dropping his hand back to your rear, letting a hand fall down your cargos as he gently shoves you towards the cylinder full of arrows at the spray painted shooting line.

the delight is all over your face when you knock your arrow with no notes from the bowman observing your practice.

archery isn’t your strong suit but you’d come into contact with it at summer camps in your youth and in gym class. your form is fantastic - or at least it always starts that way. the arrow that flies flies flawlessly and suddenly you’re beaming at the cheers once you notice your arrow a mere inch from where a bullseye should be.

maggie’s awestruck face and rick’s grin are enough for you to start knocking another arrow, sending daryl a cocky look.

the problems start when you reload and tilt your bow upright. you’re drawing your arrow back like your boyfriend showed you all of those times before, but something makes the auburn haired man stop and correct your form, saying, “here,” softly and moving your left arm long.

he steadies a hand on your hip as he helps to steady your aim. despite being momentarily tucked in daryl’s steel embrace, you feel eyes boring into it.

rick is striding over, not caring about glenn approaching the other end of the shooting line to give it a go or even your almost perfect bullseye.

“i think you would’ve gotten that one is daryl would’ve given you some space.”

an eye roll is sneaking out of daryl and rick still has his arms crossed. you shake your head to signify that it’s all a misunderstanding. “rick, i’m shit at archery because i’m shit at archery - not because daryl has his hands on me.”

rick grunts. “that’s not what i saw.”

you smile sweetly at the constable. “he’s just helping me learn to shoot, babe.”

“yeah, let her learn. might come a day when we’re out of bullets,” daryl backs you up, citing an obvious concern now that scavenging was growing riskier and riskier.

“might come a day when you stop drooling over every touch.” rick jabs.

an eyebrow shoots up. “you don’t seem to have a problem with me drooling over you.” you counter. “just wait until later. you’ll be changing your tune about all of this,” you gesture to daryl.

rick’s eyes are alight with something stronger than irritation, more personal than just being annoyed. he looks like he almost wants to bend you over his lap and you’re sure he’s about to say something just as embarrassing until a voice interrupts his thought before it comes out.

you and daryl seize your getaway when rick is summoned up onto deanna’s porch to try some of her famous peanut butter buckeyes. “proudly from ohio,” she’d proclaimed of the recipe.

midwestern sweets are the perfect cover for you and your archer to stowaway in the barn, somewhere it would take rick a long time to look. daryl has you next to him on a hay bale in an empty horse stall before you can even count how many horses are actually around. not that it matters with the stall dividers giving you more than enough cover.

the finger screwing you open has you screaming your face with pleasure. this is what you’d been wanting rick to do at the archery range. you would’ve done whatever he said for him to whisk you away and take care of that specific need right there and then.

“real quick? just to hold you over until later?” he’s massaging your worked up insides like he’s aware of every tension that’s been brewing in you all day long.

“dare’,” your ability to keep it together is slipping.

“you want me to fill you up with a finger now, baby?” daryl toys, middle finger joining his pointer in your pulsing cunt.

you say everything but no when daryl embarks between your thighs.

deanna’s buckeyes were delicious.

not as great as his mom’s peach cobbler but enough of a sign that this place is where the group should lay down there roots. where you three should put down your roots.

rick doesn’t want to be the overbearing boyfriend, not when you and daryl are on the other end of it. the idea of sharing you is still just so foreign. in bed, it mostly goes off without a hitch but during the daytime is another story.

jealousy manifests in all kinds of inappropriate ways - like spoiling your moment with daryl after you shot so well, rusty as you were not having picked up a bow in god knows how long. rick wants to apologize. the thought’s on his mind but the way his body moves, searching for you and his friend, he’s more of a predator than a man. moved almost as if by the primal need to be close to you. to know where you are.

so when he finally finds and daryl in the stable, he thinks his head might explode.

“the fuck are you two doin’ in this stall?”

your climax is put on pause as daryl freezes his tongue over your clit. despite your frivolous wrenching of his auburn waves, your efforts to at least enjoy a release before rick starts on his lecture prove to be futile. daryl’s not just abandoning ship but pulling up your underwear.

“and the fuck are you whimperin’ about?”

you stop; a deer in the headlights. “what?” you mumble through swollen lips.

“move the fuck over, daryl,” before you know it, rick is doing the unexpected and taking your lover’s spot sucking your clit.

rick doesn’t give you anytime at all to mentally or physically adjust to him just jumping in and slurping you up.

the lack of warning has you coming on his tongue and daryl’s eyes widening. none of you can be surprised by the fact that rick isn’t stopping. you’re fine with that; you can’t face his “i told you so” looks right now anyways.

rick rarely gets to eat you out as often as he wants to. usually it’s daryl torturing your sensitive cunt without abandon. the scene before you: rick, with a tongue treating you like the last popsicle in the hell, tongue fucking you even as you grip as his hair.

“rick,” you say starry eyed.

“he’s busy, baby,” daryl explains and settles into the spot next to you against the hay bale.

“rick, rick!” you’re stirring up straw around you as rick adds a finger to his artful invasion of your pussy. the tongue isn’t enough, no, he needs to penetrate you with a finger as well. it doesn’t matter that his nose is shiny with your slick or that you’re begging for a break. you’re gonna overload all over his face like the good little slut he knows you are for him.

at least that’s what he tells you after he holds you down and tag teams you with daryl to incur a whirlwind of pleasure from your sensitive pebbled flesh to your slippery entrance. your kicking legs don’t phase him, much less than tsunami of pleasure that washes over you and coats his mouth.

the intense breakdown from inside your core has your mind completely wiped. you’re so fucked out, you’re begging for rick to do the dirtiest things to you on this hay strewn floor.

“you need me to smack your pussy baby?”

“yes, rick!”

the light sting that flushes your cunt has you gasping into daryl’s mouth when he leans over to lock puffy lips with you. another swat or two is more than enough to have you even wetter than you were when rick interrupted you and daryl. the stretch you’re expecting comes more as a squelch for the first few inches.

rick has gotten used to you over time but as daryl props you up on his lap, you grit your teeth. the older man is hitting that marianna trench deep angle with his horsecock fitting for the stable that’s on the verge of battering your cervix.

kudos to daryl, you think. how supportive of your fucking antics. you know why that is.

daryl will let rick go as far as he does because he knows it’ll end up with the three of you right here. right on top of each other, gliding into position wordlessly. the tent in his pants has been freed and by the way he’s palming himself, you can tell he’s not saving that thing for your mouth.

the massive cock splitting you up and imprinting some kind of shape, begins to pulse. you’re ready to come all over him when you feel an intrusion at your sopping hole.

“what the-,”

“relax, it’s a finger.”

“you’re cutting in here already?”

daryl raises an eyebrow at his brother. “you’re tellin’ me that you don’t wanna double stuff her?”

you clench around rick at the younger man’s words.

rick laughs, wrapping his arms around you before starting to roll over, “well, when you put it that way.”

and he sends his tongue down your throat as soon as the second dexterous finger struggles inside of you. the pressure ebbs and flows from pain to pleasure. regardless, the pain is dull enough that the hold rick’s maintaining on your sides is enough to distract you.

you’re draped on top of rick, snug against him but he still starts to run his cocky mouth.

“i thought the bigger dude’s supposed to be on top. isn’t that what that magazine you guys found said?”

daryl raises a tawny eyebrow, not bothering to slow the pace of his fingers. “you’re really gonna brag about your dick right now?”

rick pistons his hips upwards, squeezing a cry out of you and proving his point.

“you’re an asshole,” you’re muttering as you endure another pointed thrust.

rick gets his recompense when daryl finally feeds his own impressive cock, centimeter by centimeter at first - eyeballing it and checking in on you and rick as you both start to squirm.

daryl’s struggling to not give it one heroic thrust and dive balls deep but he knows that would probably tear you in two. theres no way you can handle anything other than slow right now. rick is the same with a matching flustered expression. he accepts your hand when you grasp his much larger palm in yours.

the once cocky constable is now absolutely being shut up by your all encompassing, air tight walls and daryl’s cock edging you two as he edges further inside of you.

daryl’s fingers were pipe cleaners in comparison to his meaty cock cramming into you as if you weren’t meant for only one. it doesn’t matter though. no one would hear you complaining. this isn’t the first one they’ve stretched you on both of their cocks and it won’t be the last - not if you have anything to do with it.

once the man above you is a bit more firmly entrapped in your tight warmth, you start to move your hips back. rick is smirking beneath you when daryl warns you with a spank not to squirm too much - not if you want both of them to come in you. the conditions have you settling your hips and clinging onto rick, stilling with the close contact as daryl sandwiches you into him.

rick has no reason to complain, not with the sunlight coming through just the right panes of the barn’s skylights and painting your face and your hair a delicious shade of golden hour. daryl’s disposition is made only more chiseled and picturesque with the waning daylight.

neither of them are lasting long with the way the day’s gone.

you don’t make it a piece of cake holding on regardless. wound up since rick first pulled you into his arms back at the range, you have no patience for the men overfilling your walls. your hips can’t wait to thrash and jerk just like daryl’s. the archer is rasping in your ear to calm down but with the blush bringing, brain fogging pressure that two cocks in your entrance brings, you barely listen.

your constable comes first of course. he’s the one that sets off the real showstopper of a release that wrings a cry so loud out of you that one of the horses sighs in the background.

the warmth of his come fills you from his position buried deep in your pussy. it’s slipping out of you with each erratic propel of daryl into you, fucking the two of you straight through your orgasms.

come floods from your womb and out of your entrance, spilling down your thighs once daryl finally pulls out. he whistles and gestures for rick to check it out but the man is too worn out to look between your sticky thighs. instead, you’re flush against his chest and he’s calling daryl down with the two of you.

tangled together in the hay, you can’t think of a better way to spend this idyllic day.

[taintandviolent]

If it's alright, maybe Kai finding reader with another guy and taking her back to the cult house to teach her a lesson...in front of the rest of the cult? 👀

warnings: spanking, violence/aggression, Kai being Kai.

A/N: longish drabble done at work - I hope this is okay and what you had in mind anon! Sorry it’s not a full fic, the brain ain’t brainin’ as hard as I’d like today.

Kai couldn't believe his eyes. It was you. His loyal little lamb with her doe-eyes, perky tits and willingness to do anything he asked... in the arms of some dickhead. His hands explored your waist and ass cheeks in a disgusting display of public affection, and Kai clenched his jaw hard.

That evening, when you'd gotten back to his house, you walked downstairs to find everyone sitting patiently, almost as if they were waiting for your arrival.

"Ah, there she is. The disloyal one." Kai's voice was calm and level. He was exercising a lot of personal strength, you could tell. At his words, everyone's heads turned, the attention now fully on you.

Oh, you thought. They were waiting for you. Uncomfortably, you adjusted the strap of your purse on your shoulder and swallowed hard. Kai was watching your every move, hands behind his back. You hated when he did that... It felt so authoritative. You guessed that the rest of the cult didn't know the details of what you'd done, only that you were quote "disloyal" to his cause. With one fluid motion, he gestured for you to stand at his side.

You obeyed, taking careful steps until you got to him. What was worse? The fact that you had everyone's eyes on you, practically watching you breathe, or that Kai's very presence seemed to vibrate with a fiery anger that you could literally feel as he stood next to you? You couldn't decide.

"What is the punishment for disloyalty?"

You said nothing, only bit your lip, chewing a piece of dry skin off.

"I asked you a question. Answer me."

"I wasn't... disloyal."

"That wasn't the question, was it?"

Kai took a fistful of your hair, and got close to your face, speaking directly into your ear. The rest of the cult couldn't hear his words, only saw the angry display. You winced; he was gripping the hair at the roots.

"You were. A greedy, disloyal bitch. Now you're lying?"

"Kai," you whimpered.

"Address me properly."

"Divine Ruler," you corrected without hesitation. "I can't be disloyal if I'm not with anyone..."

He gripped your hair harder, pulling your face closer to his. He was staring at the side of your face like he was trying to melt it off, and while you only had the peripheral view, the disappointment that burned in his eyes was apparent. What did that mean? You were loyal to the cult, but there was an unsaid implication that Kai expected you to be loyal to him. Your core tightened with a melange of excitement, desire and fear.

Kai straightened up. Someone cleared their throat awkwardly, unsure how to process the tension in the room. Kai inhaled a deep breath, and sat down on the chair behind him.

"Over my lap."

You put your purse down at his feet, and reluctantly, laid your body out over his thighs. With your ass on display in your short skirt, you felt like an idiot. Taking a fistful of the fabric, Kai pulled it up over the curve of your cheeks, revealing the cheeky lacy underwear you'd chosen that day. You could've sworn you heard some of the guys chuckling. Great.

It turned out, the punishment for disloyalty was humiliation. Public humiliation.

THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

Kai's hand made repeated contact with your ass cheeks, setting the skin aflame. You turned your head, looking out into the faces that were watching. Winter looked disgusted, and your eyes met hers for a moment before they squeezed shut again, wincing with the pain of another spank.

You were thankful that he hadn't decided to use a tool like his belt, and the smacks were just with his large hand. Still, they burned like nobody's business and you couldn't help but whimper each time that your cheeks vibrated with his determinate slaps.

Suddenly, they ceased, and Kai's hands left your body. You were almost disappointed -- something that came as a shock to you. You realized that despite the pain and embarrassment, you were enjoying the closeness of the situation.

"Now, go sit down. We have some important things to talk about today."

Bastard. It would hurt so bad to sit on a hard wooden seat and he knew it. He knew it. Further, you knew he intended for your continued discomfort.

Rolling your lips inward, you reached for your purse, and navigated around to the only empty seat in the back. Just as you anticipated; the wood was cruel and unforgiving as you sat down, wiggling around to find a comfortable position. Everything hurt; your ass cheeks ached and the hand-shaped welts still felt hot.

Kai's eyes lingered on you. They lingered long enough that you decided you'd stay after the meeting was over and drill him about why he'd punished you.

[moirindeclermont]

How Bridgerton Men Stay Fit or Regency Era Exercise

For Day 2 Bonus Polin Week: Height differences (A brief explicit fic featuring wall sex, because why not?)

Something is so endearing in the way Pen realizes a little too late what he wants to do.

She is shy and nervous when he says he wants to take her standing on their feet. She claims she is too heavy and too short for that to work.

Reason one is classified as not true. As for their height difference, that is indeed true, but he has an easy solution to that.

Colin smirks as he starts to glaze with his finger on her lips and her lovely face, coming into her personal space and smiling when she takes a couple of steps back, ending up near the wall, exactly where he wants her.

“I’m strong enough to lift you for the time we need. My love, it’s the best way for me to exercise those muscles! Why lift and throw heavy things when I could hold and make love to my perfect wife?”

"I mean, if I can help you with your exercises... sure, why not?" Pen is almost wary about it but with a hint of malice in her looks. She likes the idea as much as he does.

He chuckles at her a bit. “Oh Pen, you help me with everything, I hope I’m not too much of a pain.”, he says, giving her those big puppy eyes that always work to get her turned on.

She loves it when he's cheeky with her: "You're never a pain for me... in fact, I recall only a lot of pleasure", and she starts touching her lips looking at him, watching his eyes becoming lustful. He watches as she removes the bodice, freeing her lovely bosom for him, knowing fully well that he drives him crazy with that move.

Now she has sparked his desire, and in a swift move, he captures her mouth in a scorching kiss as he lifts her and presses her against the wall. She laughs in shock and surprise “Colin, what are you doing? “

He looks at her. “What do you think I’m going to do next?” as he lifts her skirt and starts touching her core. She is already wet, but he wants her even wetter for him. He fingers her with two fingers at once, making her moan almost directly in his mouth. He could feel her growing wetter and it took him just a couple of minutes to make her ready for him.

“Unbutton me, Pen”, he says to her, making her moan. Her little hands go directly to his breeches and in moments he is free. She gives him a couple of pumps with her hand that are almost too much, but he resists the pull.

“Put your hands around my neck,” he grows at her, and in the next breath, he pushes into her in a single, deep thrust, his hand squeezing her lovely arse.

Gravity makes him go so deep inside her as he starts to thrust. Pen’s eyes just immediately roll back and she’s moaning and whimpering. She loves feeling his muscles as they’re flexed and all warm and flush from the activity.

“So strong!” She praises him and he just growls again into her ear, wanting to prove how strong he is by fucking her harder.

He loves the praise and can't get enough of how deep he is. He can feel her squeeze him as he fucks her harder. He doesn't even feel the strain of the muscles, just the incredible bliss. Especially when he can fuck her again a wall and kiss her at the same time.

He looks at her and as he watches her boobs going up and down as he pushes in her, his desire growing even more. He presses her harder on the wall, feeling her nipples hard against his chest and he knows he won’t last long.

He pushes even harder, her sounds close and close to the one she makes when she comes.

“I’m close Colin, I’m so close”, and he goes on her neck and then he captures a nipple with his mouth. He doesn’t think too much about it, just tease the tip with his tongue before sucking it.

She shrieks around him, a gush in between them as she comes hard around him. The rest is a blur: in three thrusts he is coming as well, and he almost collapses but he gathers his strength back and keeps her steady until she can stay on her feet without collapsing as well.

They breathe in each other spaces for a couple of minutes, until Pen feels stable enough to return with her feet on the ground.

Only then, Colin goes on his knees, kissing the top of her mound and making her shiver.

“You’re a Goddess, my love.”

She smiles at him, passing her hands through his hair and feeling him softly purr like always.

“Let’s go have a bath together, what do you say?” “You always have the best idea, wife!”

It took a while to find the balance to reach for the bath, and if the next day his arms were sore, it would be worth it just for the smile he put on Pen’s face that day.

The End

Thanks to my fandom spouse for half of the inspiration for this piece, and also for all our conversations

Ao3 Version

[nasa]

What is Artemis I?

On November 14, NASA is set to launch the uncrewed Artemis I flight test to the Moon and back. Artemis I is the first integrated flight test of the Space Launch System (SLS) rocket, the Orion spacecraft, and Exploration Ground Systems at NASA’s Kennedy Space Center in Florida. These are the same systems that will bring future Artemis astronauts to the Moon.

Standing 322 feet (98 meters) tall, the SLS rocket comprises of a core stage, an upper stage, two solid boosters, and four RS-25 engines. The SLS rocket is the most powerful rocket in the world, able to carry 59,500 pounds (27 metric tons) of payloads to deep space — more than any other vehicle. With its unprecedented power, SLS is the only rocket that can send the Orion spacecraft, astronauts, and cargo directly to the Moon on a single mission.

Before launch, Artemis I has some big help: the Vehicle Assembly Building (VAB) at KSC is the largest single-story building in the world. The VAB was constructed for the assembly of the Apollo/Saturn V Moon rocket, and this is where the SLS rocket is assembled, maintained, and integrated with the Orion spacecraft. 

The mobile launcher is used to assemble, process, and launch the SLS rocket and Orion spacecraft. The massive structure consists of a two-story base and a tower equipped with a number of connection lines to provide the rocket and spacecraft with power, communications, coolant, and fuel prior to launch.

Capable of carrying 18 million pounds (8.2 million kg) and the size of a baseball infield, crawler-transporter 2 will transport SLS and Orion the 4.2 miles (6.8 km) to Launch Pad 39B. This historic launch pad was where the Apollo 10 mission lifted off from on May 18, 1969, to rehearse the first Moon landing.

During the launch, SLS will generate around 8.8 million pounds (~4.0 million kg) of thrust, propelling the Orion spacecraft into Earth’s orbit. Then, Orion will perform a Trans Lunar Injection to begin the path to the Moon. The spacecraft will orbit the Moon, traveling 40,000 miles beyond the far side of the Moon — farther than any human-rated spacecraft has ever flown.

The Orion spacecraft is designed to carry astronauts on deep space missions farther than ever before. Orion contains the habitable volume of about two minivans, enough living space for four people for up to 21 days. Future astronauts will be able to prepare food, exercise, and yes, have a bathroom. Orion also has a launch abort system to keep astronauts safe if an emergency happens during launch, and a European-built service module that fuels and propels the spacecraft.

While the Artemis I flight test is uncrewed, the Orion spacecraft will not be empty: there will be three manikins aboard the vehicle. Commander Moonikin Campos will be sitting in the commander’s seat, collecting data on the vibrations and accelerations future astronauts will experience on the journey to the Moon. He is joined with two phantom torsos, Helga and Zohar, in a partnership with the German Aerospace Center and Israeli Space Agency to test a radiation protection vest.

A host of shoebox-sized satellites called CubeSats help enable science and technology experiments that could enhance our understanding of deep space travel and the Moon while providing critical information for future Artemis missions.

At the end of the four-week mission, the Orion spacecraft will return to Earth. Orion will travel at 25,000 mph (40,000 km per hour) before slowing down to 300 mph (480 km per hour) once it enters the Earth’s atmosphere. After the parachutes deploy, the spacecraft will glide in at approximately 20 mph (32 km per hour) before splashdown about 60 miles (100 km) off the coast of California. NASA’s recovery team and the U.S. Navy will retrieve the Orion spacecraft from the Pacific Ocean.

With the ultimate goal of establishing a long-term presence on the Moon, Artemis I is a critical step as NASA prepares to send humans to Mars and beyond.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[mi-i-zori]

Think and Forget

CoD - Ghost x GN!Reader

SYNOPSIS : You never stop thinking about your Lieutenant - until he makes you.

WARNINGS : NSFW - 18+. Smut (with a little bit of context, but barely). MDNI.

Author’s Note : I wanted to practice writing smut without thinking about it too much. I intended it to be longer, but I’ve been stuck on it for more than a week now, so I’ve decided to be done with it. Next time will be better, but I still kinda like this. Hope you do too !

I do not give anyone permission to re-publish, re-use and/or translate my work, be it here or on any other platform, including AI.

There is something about him that you never manage to fully figure out.

No matter how hard you try, his eyes remain unreadable. The library of his thoughts is constantly locked, and nobody knows where he hid the key - or if he still has it at all. Your efforts to take a peek through the keyhole have yet to bear any fruit ; a veil of darkness has fallen over his soul, obscuring your view whenever you hold his gaze for too long. Still, you don’t want to give up on deciphering his heart. So you keep on trying, poking at the steel lining his defenses. Many have lost more than a finger in the process of doing so, yet you refuse to let that thought scare you away from him. His very presence is too magnetising for you to ignore.

Curiosity killed the cat, many people like to say, obscuring the second part of the idiom. Changing its whole meaning. You, however, refuse to forget about it, aiming for the satisfaction said to have brought the feline back.

So you try to be as subtle as possible when you let your eyes and thoughts runs over his silhouette during training, analysing his every movement. You pretend to focus on his words whenever he supervises your own exercises, hoping to see an ounce of his mind behind the cold, distant aura he is so intent on maintaining around others. You keep wondering if you will ever be able to see a glimpse of who he really is ; learn about the man standing behind the wall.

You do, sometimes. These moments, however, always take place when he renders you unable to think.

Whenever his hands roam your skin, gripping every curve they fall upon with a desperation you have yet to understand, you find yourself surprised by his tenderness. His fingers seem to reach for your very soul, calluses molding both flesh and bone. Your heart synchronises with his as he holds you to his chest, exploring the expanse of your back all over again. His breath on your shoulder leaves a delicate ache in its wake, and you sometimes wonder how the chills running down your spine keep getting sweeter each time.

Under the light of day, he is nothing more than a machine. A tool made for destruction, cursed with a coldness that never seems to leave him even for a second. Sharp words echo in the minds surrounding him, and icy eyes carve incandescent holes in everything they touch behind the fabric covering his face.

Yet the abyss of his voice softens when the moon rises, highlighting aspects of his soul even he thought ceased to exist eons ago ; a reality he unveils only in front of you.

His touch leaves vicious burns on your skin. He coaxes you to bury your head in the crook of his neck, driking up every trembling breath dripping through your lips as his hands run down your back. A soft grunt echoes in your ear as your teeth sink into his shoulder. A shiver runs down your back, following his fingers as they find your core with ease, and he savours the taste of the whimper you let out the second they enter you.

- Easy, luv’, he says as you instinctively clench around him, the deep rumbling of his voice sending waves of ecstasy straight to your core.

Once again, Lieutenant Riley is impossible to read. Even as you both become one, trembling limbs and erratic breaths intertwined, the only thing you see behind his eyes is an indecipherable storm. A mayhem that seems to be engraved in his very bones, tainting him from the inside out.

- You like bein’ good to me, eh ? Lettin’ me take care of ya ?

You can only nod against his shoulder. Your chest collides with his as you bounce steadily on his length, his hands digging into your thighs to support your effort. He keeps whispering praises into your ear ; low grunts sometimes interrupt his words as you drag your nails down his back and arms, admiring the red streaks they leave on his skin.

Your legs tighten around his waist, allowing your hips to apply even more pressure against his. They roll over and over, dragging both moans and whimpers out of your throat, grunts out of his. His hand suddenly staples itself to the back of your neck - and your eyes flutter as he draws your head back, diving into the curve of your neck to suck violet bruises on your skin.

Mark you as his.

- Such a good pet fo’ me, he mumbles, kissing your pulse.

An animalistic heat is taking over his voice as he plunges his teeth into your collarbone. Pain shoots up your neck and shoulder, raining down the muscles of your arm.

His name is lost in your scream. Pleasure clouds your mind and vision, obscuring the many questions you still had about him right before nightfall. You let him drop you on the bed, once again sealing your hips together before abruptly rutting into you, reaching a well-known, sacred place only he can seem to find. Electricity courses through your core, causing your legs to jerk as they lock behind his back - drawing him even closer to your form. He relishes in the feeling, head dropping to his chest with a low growl.

The sight of him towering over you, broad shoulders heaving and sweat running down the sturdy valley of his chest, causes you to choke on a strangled moan.

His ravaged hand finds leverage on the headboard. The polished wood slams into the wall, following the frantic rhythm of his body slamming into yours. Your teeth tear your lips as you try to bite on a trembling cry, and your Lieutenant leans towards you, his breath ghosting your face through the fabric of his mask. Dark eyes lock onto yours, boring holes into your soul as his fingers keep working harshly on your clit.

- Cum fo’ me.

And as always, these words are enough to send you over the edge.

[spinchip]

You’ve been living in a death machine

(Warnings: Character death, ice-related injuries)

There’s a certain liberation, a release of tension that comes with this. With the pressure of the staff back in your hand, the wood grain against the sensitive sensors delicately woven into the pads of your fingers. They’d torn your code open and tangled their hands in it and ripped and ripped and ripped until they took everything that made you who you are. They wrenched free your love, your generosity, your kindness- There was no mercy left in your power core. There was nothing. Then they handed you the staff, and resurrected an evil they didn’t truly understand. They couldn’t control you. They didn’t know they couldn’t control you. Turpentine poured in one ear and all the goodness and morality washing out the other, scrubbed clean of the weak and soft parts of himself. The gentleness of your edges has been filed down sharp and rigid, dragged across a whetstone and sharpened to the precision of a razor blade.

You are the Ice Emperor. You missed this.

There is relief with the loss of Zane. You are the same person, of course, but without the burden of guilt and shame. Without the restriction of fear. While upon the throne of the Never Realm, you had come to respect some of the people under your rule- those who stood and fought, who were strong and relentless and clever, who kept swinging even as ice encased their legs and grew steadily higher. You respected the Krag. You respected Akita.

(And out of respect for them, for their prowess as warriors, you didn’t dare hold back.)

You did not respect that part of yourself. A soft, sad thing. Afraid to raise your hand too quickly, unable to utilize the hundreds of killing tactics you had perfected and as such losing so miserably it's almost comical. Almost. You’d have laughed if it didn’t fill you with a humming miasma of deep seated fury. You spent all this time letting yourself fail, asking for pain when you cowed away from a finishing blow. You didn’t remember how far above them you are. You were a coward- spineless and scared, without the nerve to exercise your power.

The Emperor is no such fool.

The girl in front of you takes a sudden step back when you raise your eyes to meet hers. A vicious satisfaction bubbles up your throat, crowding against your teeth. Your presence expands, filling the room and all its corners, commanding attention- the temperature drops until her breath fogs in front of her mouth. She wants to carry in her eyes what you do. She covets the cold detachment that comes second nature to you. She envies your brutality.

She is terribly, horribly frightened by your rage.

The purple crystals glittering around you might be considered beautiful by someone who cares about things like that. You don't even notice their glow. All you care about is the staff and the blood lust sitting under you skin, nestled between your wiring.

Ripped from your home, flooded with feelings so foreign and wrong they rewrote your personality until you were nothing but a bad memory- and now, dragged back out to fight without your advisor at your side, ordered like a dog- Destroy the Ninja! Like you were a prized pet bred to obey. The room was filled with others- people you recognized, people who hurt you when you were too scared to hit back. (The Mechanic, Mr. E, all of them comfortable in their successes against you- they don't see the threat sitting at their feet. They don't even realize they should run.) They laugh and they jeer and they poke and prod and provoke you. They didn’t know what they’d done. They didn’t know who they had invited into their home- their murderer welcomed with cruel smiles and pitiful commands that they thought you would mindlessly follow.

You wanted to make them scared.

You stand to your full height, not curled up and defeated on the stone floor anymore. The girl doesn’t move as you rise to tower over her, staring at you and trying to form the right words to have you bow down before her. She is a pitiful thing. Her eyes glimmer with the hunted desperation of someone who has fought for every breath she’s ever taken. She thinks she will survive this as she has survived everything else.

You raise your hand and she flinches. The room grows quiet. Gently, you reach out and press your finger against her forehead. It only takes a moment- a tap.

She gasps, her whole body convulsing as she chokes on nothing, futilely trying to take in air. Her legs crumple and she hits the floor with a thunk.

You started with the brain. Ice unfurling slowly through her frontal lobe all the way to her cerebellum before curling down her brain stem. Slow enough so that she knew exactly what was happening to her, but too quickly for her body to go numb to the sting. You could see it in her eyes, a terror that only comes when a painful death has surrounded you- when you know there was no way out of it this time. You let the ice trickle down her spinal cord to her lungs, filling her capillaries and cracking delicate tissue when she tries desperately to breathe. It sunk into her heart last. Brain dead in 2 seconds, collapsed at 3.

You raise your head, staring at the sea of horrified faces.

You're going to enjoy this.

[sehtoast]

A Good Punishment is its Own Reward (Homelander x Reader Smut)

18+

Word count: 2k

Fic Directory

Summary: Homelander doesn't take too kindly to being smacked on the ass- in public, at least.

Warnings: Vaginal sex, oral sex, fingering, semi-public sex, getting weird with the web holes again, spit

Reader is written as a trans man but is kept gender neutral save for two or so gendered terms. Reader is written in the spirit of my spidersona oc

You knew not to tease.

After all, it was like dangling meat in front of a tiger that’d been starved. But, in the end, could you really complain? Once the aches had faded and he settled against you, could you really complain?

Not at all.

That’s why, as the meeting of The Seven adjourned and Homelander walked past, you took a quick swat at his ass.

The look he gave you sent a chill down your spine, tingling in your core. It wasn’t like you did it when the team would see.

“Hehe,” you chuckle. “Sorry babe, it’s just looking extra smackable today.”

He approaches you in a slow gait, hands behind his back, leather gloves creaking with the restraint he was so carefully exercising. Despite your own superpowered strength, he has you at his mercy in a fraction of a moment. A gloved hand gripping your neck, tilting your gaze up to meet his.

Those beautiful blue eyes that took you back to the clear, summer skies of your youth– that warmed you all the same.

“What, exactly, made you so bold today, hm?” John purrs, teeth bared as though he meant to threaten his prey.

You’ve nothing to say as his free hand snakes down the length of your spandex covered body, moving to press his palm against your heat.

“I could smell how fucking wet you were during the entire meeting…” Homelander murmurs in your ear, breath hot against your flesh as he blows on it. His hand remains at your neck, squeezing to punctuate his words. “Do I really work you up so much? You want me so badly that even corporate bullshit gets you soaked? So long as it’s coming out of my mouth?”

He relishes the way the emotive lenses of your mask mimic the way your eyes widen, though he finds it infinitely more delightful to utilize his x-ray vision to peer through to your reddened cheeks, the way you bite your lower lip in anticipation. You nod breathlessly, and he’s upon you immediately, tearing the mask from your head, tongue parting your lips, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit through your suit.

You moan into his mouth, hips bucking toward him for more.

“John…” you whine, and you feel his lips curl into a devilish grin.

He nibbles at your lip, and suddenly you’re being manhandled onto the conference table, his hands splaying across your upper body, thumbing at the spider emblem on your chest.

“I think you owe me, now…” He growls. “For taking without asking.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” You bite your lip, cunt clenching around nothing as his words settle deep in your core.

He stands expectantly, hands on his hips as he waits for you to pay what you owe.

Your hands are at his belt immediately, dropping the metallic article to the floor without care– for you’re far more invested in stripping his pants away. You slip your hand between the band of his red briefs, simply taking him in a hold for a moment as you wrap your arm around his neck to tug him in for a kiss.

Your tongues dance as you begin to stroke, his cock twitching in tandem with his little moans. It’s enough to drive you insane, but you’ll find your sanity once more when he’s had you in every way he wants– every way you want.

"You like that, don't you baby?" You whisper in his ear teasingly.

His hand is at your neck again, and your breath catches.

“Maybe we should put your mouth to good use,” he rasps, tongue darting out to lick the shell of your ear. “On your knees, little spider…”

You obey, hopping off the table to kneel before him as he shimmies his pants and underwear to his ankles.

“That’s it…” he groans as you grasp him, tongue darting out to swirl the bead of moisture from the head of his cock.

Your free hand strokes at his thigh, the softness of your touch mixing with the heat of your mouth as you take him in, dragging your tongue along the underside of his shaft as you swallow every inch of him. He hisses, and your pride swells.

As does your audacity.

You trail your hand along the curve of his ass, then swat it down in a sharp smack, gripping a handful of the soft flesh to knead.

Your hands are trapped in his grip in seconds, and a leather glove has you snatched by the hair, pulling your head impossibly closer until your nose is buried in the thatch of hair at the base of his cock and you’re gagging around him.

“Thought you’d be fucking cute with that, huh?” He snarls, hips snapping forward to fuck your throat. The hand in your hair jerks your head back and forth, using you to his heart’s content, groaning with each deep stroke.

“Gonna make you regret it,” he promises with a sly smile, ripping you off his cock to stare at him with your lidded eyes, drool dripping off your chin. “Look how fucking messy you are for me. Can’t get enough, can you?”

He grips his cock with the hand that previously held yours captive, and he smacks the length of it on your cheek, dragging it across your lips to paint your face with your own spit.

Your tongue darts out, desperate for his taste once more, but he pulls your head back, cock just out of reach of your wet muscle.

“Bad boys don’t get what they want. Only I get what I want.”

Suddenly, he’s dragging you up from where you knelt, hands seeking out the zippers to your suit– somehow patient enough to strip you properly. He took you in another kiss, strings of your saliva connecting you as you parted.

“Open your fucking mouth,” he commands.

So you do, and he’s using his grip in your hair to tilt your head back to spit in your mouth.

“Swallow it.”

You obey, gulping loudly, and the devious look on his face only becomes more wicked.

“Such a fucking slut,” he praises as he works your suit down your body. “Look how fucking wet you are.”

He’s right, too. As he pulls your underwear down, your arousal clings to your clothes.

You want to say something quippy, to tease him, but your thoughts melt away as his leather clad fingers swipe through your folds, dragging your wetness up to your engorged clit. Your head falls back, and he’s nibbling at your neck, licking and sucking marks onto you– claiming you.

“All for me,” he lilts, tongue dragging up the column of your neck. “Say it.”

“I’m yours,” you whimper, hands gripping in his hair, tongue painting your flesh like a brush on canvas. “Yours…”

As the word leaves your mouth, his fingers sink into you, curving right away to find that spot that drives you fucking wild. His fingers squelch each time he drags them out and slams them back in, fingerfucking you with delight as he watches how your face contorts in bliss.

“Johnny!” You cry out as the pressure builds, hips bucking to chase the sensation, almost there, almost–

“N-No!” You whimper as his fingers leave you, and he’s chuckling.

“Didn’t I tell you? Bad boys don’t get what they want.” He shoves you back to lay on the table, hands gripping your wrists to thumb at your spinnerets.

You yelp at the sensation, still infinitely grateful for his fascination with your previously undiscovered erogenous zone.

“Do you deserve to cum?” Homelander asks, leaning over you with predatory eyes and mussed hair. You swear you see a flash of red in his pupils as he licks the tip of one of his sharp teeth. “Do you deserve to have me fuck you?”

You nod furiously, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in against his own strength.

“Please…”

He brings one of your wrists to his mouth, dipping the tip of his tongue into your widened spinneret, making you howl, your back arching as the sensation shot straight down to your cunt.

“I could take you apart so fucking easily,” he proclaims proudly. “I could have you any way I want.”

Homelander rocks his hips, sliding the length of his cock up and down your slit. You can see the way his control falters for a moment, pleasure clouding his focus. His brow furrows and his expression softens, and you seize your chance.

“C'mere…” You coo.

As he leans down, you nudge your forehead against his.

“I love you so much, y’know…” Your eyes shut, and you plead through your needy haze. “I need you, baby. I need to feel you in me."

Always so brittle when it comes to affirmations of love, Homelander presses a kiss to your forehead and grips himself, the head of his cock nudging at your sopping entrance.

"Mm," you hum, leaning up to kiss him properly. "Please, Johnny. Please take care of me…"

You can practically see the nickname push him over the edge, and he sinks inside in one push. You swear you can feel him throbbing between your walls, his little moans quivering in the air.

"Damnit," he groans as he bottoms out, gritting his teeth to stave off his release. As he takes a moment, you reach for his hands, slipping the gloves off, exposing him to the world.

To you.

He moves to lean over you, peering down with something utterly carnal in his eyes as he starts to move.

His thrusts start slow, mind still addled from your declaration of love. It always was the most perfect way to pull him back to earth.

You grip at his forearms, his hands grabbing you firmly by the waist as he lets loose, pace increasing by the second until he's driving into you like a madman.

"Fuck!" you hiss, your body jostling with every thrust. Your mind hazes, and you submit to however he wants to use you– pleased that you got what you wanted.

His grip leaves your waist, slender fingers wrapping around your throat, a palm over your mouth to quiet you.

He doesn’t quite know why he stifled your noises, only that the sick sense of control he got from it brought him to the brink. To know he could control you, down to even the sounds you made, was nothing short of fucking ecstacy.

“The only thing,” he pants, “I want to hear out of that fucking mouth is my name. Do you hear me?”

You nod, eager to please him. As he lets go, you make sure the first thing you do is moan his name into the air like a prayer.

“Mmm, fuck!” He pounds into you, fingers traveling down to toy with your clit. He spits on it, using his saliva as lube to glide across that tender bud, relief coming to him as you throw your head back.

“John, oh f– I’m gonna–”

You clench around him, vision tunneling as he keeps the pace with both his hips and fingers. You cry out, each breath spent on his name as you crest higher and higher, bliss overtaking every molecule of your body.

You feel him coming deep inside of you before anything else. Before the whimpers of your own name meet your ears, before his head falls down to rest in the crook of your neck as he ruts through the waves of his orgasm. He’s warm, his breath is hot, and the cock twitching and spurting inside you is delicious.

You come down from your haze first, and you take the time to press a kiss to the side of his head.

“Heh,” you breathe a laugh. “Maybe I should smack your ass more often…”

Despite his groan, you feel him smile against your neck. “Keep it up, and you’ll get much worse.”

You pull him impossibly closer, limbs wrapped around him as his body lays limp against you. Above, Homelander finally cracks, and a lighthearted laugh leaves him. His fingers card through your hair, and he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Babe, if that’s your threat, I’m gonna do it as soon as we stand up!”

He can hardly wait until you get the bright idea to spank him again.

[imyourbratzdoll]

Oh what about Andy barber from defending jacob....so here is my request about Andy lost everything, he divorce his wife and the death of son, Jacob. Every once a week, he goes to see his hard working therapist, reader. He has a slight crush on her and one day off, Andy saw her in the bar. Smut in the bar bathroom

sorry, this took so long, and hopefully, it's okay, my smut might not be as good as I feel drained from it, haha.

summary - andy's therapist helps him in another unprofessional way.

warning - smut, talks of grief, dirty talk.

18+ only please, gif credit to @katlarence & divider credit to @firefly-graphics and @newlips

“So, how are you feeling today, Andy?” Y/n asks as she opens her notebook. I clear my throat, adjusting myself from the sight of her in her skirt, her leg poking through the slit. I pull the collar of my shirt away from my neck, feeling the room become warm.

“Uh…good” She raises a brow, “there are times I go to talk to Jacob or see something he’d like and then I remember that I can no longer talk to him or see the joy on his face because he’s dead and it’s all Laurie’s fault, and I still feel so guilty. I could’ve saved him, and I should’ve seen the signs sooner.” Tears fill my eyes.

Y/n pauses before placing her notebook down and grabbing my hand, “Andy, none of this is your fault, and there was nothing you could do to prevent it. Have you been doing the exercises I recommended?” I nod.

“Yeah, they help sometimes,” I say while stroking her hand. We talk for another fifty-five minutes before my appointment is up.

“Alright, Andy, unfortunately, that’s all the time we have. When would you like to make your next appointment?” I reply, making it in two weeks. As we say our goodbyes, all I can think about is bending her over her desk and taking out all of my frustrations.

I walk into my regular bar, desperate for a drink after my day. I order myself a whiskey, nodding to the bartender as he places my drink down. I go to take a sip before I hear something, a voice followed by a laugh that I recognise. I look to where it’s coming from and choke on my saliva. There she stands, wearing a gorgeous knee-length tight black with one of those stupid slits that show off her legs. I notice her breasts are pushed up, causing thoughts to enter my mind. I watch as her head tilts back when she laughs, eyes travelling down her throat, wondering what it would feel like to kiss, lick and bite it.

I’m so zoned out that I don’t notice her looking at me before excusing herself and making her way over. I’m brought out of my thoughts by a hand touching my arm, and my eyes focus on her smiling red lips. ‘Fuck, I wish they were wrapped around my cock.’

“Andy, hi.” My breath hitches in my throat.

“Hi,” I notice her trying to rub her thighs together subtly, I try to smile, but her perfume fills my senses, causing my cock to stir. She gestures to the empty seat next to me.

“Mind if I sit?” I shake my head, imagining her sitting on something else, but the stool would have to do. 

“Go ahead,” my breath hitches ago, goosebumps covering my skin as her leg brushes against his. 

“I’m sorry if I’m ruining your evening” I place a hand on hers.

“Your not.”

Our lips are locked as I push her against the bathroom door, muttering against them to jump. Her legs wrap around my waist, her core rubbing against my jean-clad bulge, and a soft moan leaves her lips from the friction. My tongue swipes her bottom lip before entering her mouth. The taste of strawberries and vodka fills my taste buds.

I walk over to the sink and place her on top before I reach down and under her dress. Ready to rip off her underwear, but I pull back, eyes wide as I look at her. An eyebrow raised, I watched Y/n blush and look down before placing my finger under her chin and making her look up at me, “wanna tell me why you're not wearing anything under this dress.” Y/n bites her lip, looking deep into my eyes.

“Um…It created lines….” She nibbles on her bottom lip, my eyes darting down and back up. Hand still under her dress, my fingers stroke her lips before finding her clit and rubbing. Staring into her eyes as I do, eyes dark with lust, hers roll back into her head when I thrust two in and rub her clit with my thumb. With my other hand, I unzip my jeans and take my thick cock out, my bulbous head leaking and throbbing. 

Lifting Y/n’s dress to her hips, my cock hardens even more at the sight of her glistening pussy. She whines, placing her hands on my hips and trying to pull me closer. My cock lays heavy against her entrance before slowly pushing in, my head falls forward, and a loud groan leaves my mouth as whimpers leave hers. 

My hips pull back before snapping roughly back in, my cock squeezed by her tight walls, thrusting into her hard and fast. My hands bruise her hips as I relentlessly fuck into her, my cock pounding into her tiny hole. Groans and moans fill the bathroom, skin slapping, and I embrace Y/n holding her close as my cock slides in and out. I place kisses along her collarbone and neck, leaving marks.

“Oh– oh, Andy, we shouldn’t be – fuck – doing this.” Y/n’s eyes roll to the back of her head as my cock hits her sweet spot, and her nails dig into my back, holding on for dear life. I pick up the pace, relentlessly tearing her cunt open. I pull back and stare at her face. One hand comes up and grips her chin, making her look at me. Her dazed eyes connected with my dark blue ones. Causing my cock to throb inside of her.

Sending a particularly hard thrust, “Of course, we should be doing this. You're helping me.” My hand wraps around her throat as I fuck hard into her, feeling my end approaching quickly. “Fuck– this is embarrassing, but I’m so close, and you feel so fucking good.” I feel Y/n clench around me, and my hands grip her hips tight as I continue to send relentless thrusts into her tiny hole. 

“Andy– Andy, fuck. Please.” Y/n’s eyes roll to the back of her head as her cunt pulsates around him and her cream coats his massive, throbbing cock. Her body slips as her client pounds into her tight cunt. 

Andy can feel his balls tightening, burying his cock deep inside Y/n before he releases and fills her to the brim with his load. A sigh of relief leaves the two of them as the feeling of a weight being lifted off of their shoulders leave. Andy slowly pulls out, reaching over and grabbing a paper towel before wetting it and cleaning both of them up. “Thank you,” his puppy dog blues look connected with Y/n’s eyes as he helps her re-dress herself before doing the same with himself. 

Y/n smiles, her hand coming up and strokes his cheek. A squeal of shock leaves her lips as Andy leans forward and captures hers with his, bringing her into a passionate kiss.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[herballwitch]

Protection Practices: Visualization, Grounding, Spells, and Sigils

Hello, My name is Alva Tauri! I am an herbalist, spirit worker, tarot and oracle reader, and lunar and herbal witch dedicated to closing the education gap when it comes to herbalism and witch practices!

It's come to my attention that a lot of people believe that you have to do protection spells exclusively to be protected. The reality is, you can do many different things to be divinely protected. Let's talk about small and large protection practices you can do daily, weekly, or monthly to make certain that you are protected and safe!

"What small acts can I do everyday to be protected?"

Visualization:

when I think of protection, the very first thing that comes to mind is visualization. your perspective on the situations you are in greatly changes the situation itself. for day to day protection I would recommend the following:

Basic Visualization: sitting in a still and quiet place and closing your eye. Now, visualize yourself surrounded by a white or pink light. Visualize that bright light removing all of the negative energy from you, and surrounding you, protecting you from all outside negative energy. you can do this multiple times a day if necessary. however, I recommend doing this before you go out in public, before going to bed, and when you wake up in the morning.

Shower Visualization: another routine that is easy to implement, as it involves something you already have to do, is visualization during hygiene. whenever you take your bath or a shower, visualize the water running down you cleansing you inside and out and then watch as all the negative energy on you goes down the drain.

if doing a spell each and every day is not right for you that is perfectly fine! but I would recommend doing at least one of these a day (if not both) to ensure that you are protecting yourself each and every day.

in addition to this I recommend practicing yoga and/or meditating either under the sun or in front of a candle flame and, during this time, focusing on the sensations in your body. this exercise will prepare you for the next step, which is energy grounding.

"What small acts can I do to protect me for a longer period of time?"

Grounding Your Energy:

while the process of grounding your energy is rather simply, it can be more complex than it sounds, hence the exercise I gave you before this.

to ground your energy you have to truly be in touch with yourself, your energy, and have to be able to silence your mind. practice the mediation exercise until it feels right and, when it does, you are ready to take these steps to ground your energy.

sit or stand in a quiet and silent place with your feet to the ground: anywhere you can sit on the ground is best, outside is preferred but not required at all

find your core energy center: this varies for everyone, but you will feel it as you are practicing. find it and feel it connecting to the Earth.

take a few deep breaths, grounding yourself in the present moment: be silent, clear your mind, and breathe

visualize roots growing from the soles of your feet, anchoring you to the Earth

feel your energy centering and aligning with your intentions

remember, you do not need to ground your energy daily. typically, grounding is done during spells and rituals, thought that is not entirely necessary. tap into your sensitivity, and that will tell you when/how often you need to do this. for example: maybe you are a lunar witch, like myself. if you are then you may wish to do a grounding ritual linked to the moon. if you find that you connect with the seasons, you may wish to do one at the start of each season. tap into your sensitivity and find a time that is meaningful to you. then, find a protection spell or ritual and perform it after you've grounded your energy. this will last for a bit and will aid you in being protected.

Spells + Sigils:

lastly, if you have done all of the above, that is when I would recommend using a spell or a sigil. spells and sigils should never be used in lieu of basic visualization and grounding practices. however, there are times that call for more steps to be taken and, if that is the case, that is when you can turn to spells and sigils.

Now, there is a lot of information to cover when it comes to how spells work and what spells to use, as well as how to use and make sigils - far too much information for me to share here.

As I said before, if you have done all of the above and you think that you are in need of a spell or sigil for protection, I recommend checking out my "spells + sigils guide post", linked here. There you will find all the information you need on how to make, use, and activate a variety of spells and sigils, as well as how to be prepared for them.

That's all for protection practices! I hope that you found this helpful in your spiritual journey and I hope that you are able to apply this information to your practice.

if you have any questions regarding anything discussed here or anything you feel that I have missed, please send an ask to my ask box! I appreciate all comments and questions!

For more information on my practice, witchcraft, herbalism, spirit work, and divination please check out the guide on my page (linked here)! Everything I have ever posted can be found there!

I wish you all a blessed day filled with peace, endless wealth, and eternal health! Until the next time we meet!

[sam198]

Chapter One: A Tale of Envy

In the quaint town of Eldoria, where magic and reality intertwined, Sir John and Sam's paths converged in the echoing halls of the mystical training academy. Sir John, a weathered sage with a limp, hairy tail, bore the weight of years etched onto his diminutive frame. In contrast, Sam, the epitome of youthful vitality, stood tall with a clean-shaven, grand tail that mirrored the strength of his well-sculpted physique.

Sir John's aging visage held a map of stories and lessons learned. Liver spots adorned his face, a testament to the passage of countless seasons. His stooped shoulders carried the burden of wisdom, while his thin, cracked lips whispered tales of experiences both bitter and sweet. The tiny, withered balls between his legs told a story of magical reservoirs drained by the sands of time.

On the other side of the spectrum stood Sam, the embodiment of vigorous youth. His chestnut hair framed a face sculpted by divine symmetry, and his hazel eyes sparkled with an energy that seemed to defy the laws of mortality. Broad shoulders, sculpted chest, and arms that spoke of countless hours spent in the pursuit of physical excellence showcased the results of relentless training. His full, plump balls, a source of potent Samen, hinted at a magical vitality that pulsated through his very core.

The academy's training sessions were a stage where Sam's prowess flourished, leaving Sir John in the shadows of envy. Despite years under Sam's tutelage, Sir John's frail form remained untouched by the transformative magic that coursed through the academy's hallowed halls.

One fateful evening, as the moon cast its silvery glow upon Eldoria, Sir John, consumed by envy, hatched a plan to bridge the chasm that separated him from Sam's vibrant existence. This plot would weave a tale of magical exchange, jealousy, and unforeseen consequences.

As the clock ticked towards midnight, Sir John approached Sam in the dimly lit training chamber. The air crackled with a mix of anticipation and a whisper of trepidation.

"Sam," Sir John called out, his voice laden with a rare intensity. "I need your guidance, a special training that only you can provide."

Sam, always eager to help, turned toward Sir John with a warm smile. "Of course, Sir John. What do you need?"

Little did Sam know that this request would set in motion a series of events that would alter the very fabric of their magical existence.

Chapter Two: The Enchanted Exchange

Sam, unsuspecting and benevolent, nodded in agreement. "Follow my lead, Sir John. We'll embark on a unique training journey tonight."

As they settled into the ancient runes inscribed on the training chamber floor, Sam began guiding Sir John through a series of magical exercises. The air hummed with a mystical energy, and the two men immersed themselves in the dance of enchantment.

💱💱💱💱💱💱💱

Unknown to Sam, Sir John had surreptitiously woven a spell into the training routine. As they delved deeper into the mystical exercises, Sir John subtly redirected the magical currents, setting in motion the clandestine exchange he sought.

The first change unfolded in Sam's majestic tail. A subtle shiver coursed through its length as it began to lose its grandeur. Sam, immersed in the magical flow, felt a disconcerting twinge deep within. His brow furrowed as he continued the exercises, unknowingly surrendering a piece of his magical vitality.

Meanwhile, Sir John's diminutive, limp tail stirred with newfound energy. It responded to the clandestine spell, growing more robust and lively. The hairy strands seemed to stand on end, absorbing the magical essence siphoned from Sam's once-grand appendage.

Emotions played across Sam's face—a mix of confusion and slight discomfort. "Sir John, is everything alright?" he inquired, sensing a subtle shift in the magical currents.

Sir John, feigning concern, replied, "Just a minor adjustment, Sam. Keep going."

The exchange continued, the magical energies intertwining in a delicate dance. Sam's tail, once a symbol of his strength, slowly dwindled in size. He began to feel an overwhelming drain, a sense of depletion that echoed through every fiber of his being.

As Sam's tail lost its grandeur, Sir John's frail body absorbed the stolen vitality. The small, limp tail now pulsed with newfound strength, a stark contrast to its former state. Sir John, concealed behind a mask of feigned effort, reveled in the unfolding transformation.

However, the exchange was not without consequences. The drain on Sam's magical vitality reached a tipping point. A wave of dizziness washed over him, and the once-confident personal trainer stumbled. The magical tether between their tails fluctuated, causing Sam to gasp in sudden realization.

"Something's not right," Sam muttered, his voice betraying a mix of confusion and concern.

Sir John, seizing the opportunity, pressed on with the charade. "Just a momentary imbalance, Sam. Keep going, we're almost there."

The chamber pulsated with the ebb and flow of magical currents, sealing the fate of the clandestine exchange.