Literally, It’s So Frustrating Cause It’s Already Rare To Find A Oc Who Is Black In The Hotd Or Got

ೃ࿐ 𝙔𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙗𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙛𝙪𝙡: 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

summary : you are the youngest daughter of Viserys I Targaryen and Aemma Arryn. Outlived your mother and your older twin brother, Baelon, in childbirth. You were titled as (Y/n) “The Undying” Targaryen.

pairing : jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader

warnings : incest, tension, sexual content, age gap (reader is about 3-4 years older), jace is about a year older in this fic, misogyny, self-harm, violence, angst, teen pregnancy, birth, meraxes is alive and thriving with vhagar :D

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

No fr like it's annoying 😭

You know when you get the urge to write a fic? Why do I have the urge to smoke a bowl and do all my black femmes with toxic favs a solid and make a Tywin/Velaryon!reader or Aemond/TruebornVelaryon!reader.

Because let me be candid for a second…I have seen no true Velaryon fiction. It’s all been Strong bastards. And I can only read so much white Y/N (no offense to anyone who writes those) 😭

Like idk maybe it’s just ME but I think Aemond falling in love with Rhaenyra and Laenor’s ONLY true born child would be interesting. Mostly because Alicent and Otto would try to get her to be a Green one way or another.

Tywin Lannister holding a Velaryon hostage because they sided with Stannis during the war (we all kno he needs an heir because he ain’t giving Tyrion Casterly Rock) and this being a power move because they’re literally the only major Valyrian house left and they literally control Driftmark and one of the largest navy’s.

I Wanna Be Yours

𝓨𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓽 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓸𝓷𝓮, 𝓫𝓾𝓽 𝓽𝔀𝓸

~~~ 𝗜𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 𝕋𝕨𝕠 𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕓𝕚𝕟𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕤 𝕗𝕒𝕝𝕝𝕤 𝕗𝕠𝕣 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝕕𝕒𝕦𝕘𝕙𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕠𝕗 𝕁𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕊𝕦𝕝𝕝𝕪.

Relationships: Recom! Miles Quaritch x Sully! Reader x Recom! Lyle Wainfleet

Warning: Polyamorous relationship. Angst. Enemies to Lovers. Slow burn. Falling in love. Redemption arc. Canon deaths (but not really). Romance. Smut. Jealousy. Threesome. Anal(both F & M receiving). Mention of suicide, self harm, depression, anxiety. PTSD. Feelings being revealed. Jake and Neytiri not being good parents to reader. Reader being a motherly figure to Spider.

(🌼🍄NOT ON A SCHEDULE! DEALING WITH LIFE🌼🍄)

Prologue: https://www.tumblr.com/adoreeenina/730437661322608640/i-wanna-be-yours-prologue

Chapter 1: https://www.tumblr.com/adoreeenina/730514148836966400/i-wanna-be-yours-ch-1

Chapter 2: https://www.tumblr.com/adoreeenina/730788062006755328/i-wanna-be-yours-ch-2

Chapter 3: https://www.tumblr.com/adoreeenina/731073519008563200/i-wanna-be-yours-ch-3

Chapter 4: https://www.tumblr.com/adoreeenina/731324689904959488/i-wanna-be-yours-ch-4

Chapter 5: https://www.tumblr.com/adoreeenina/731788277142749184/i-wanna-be-yours-ch-5

Chapter 6: https://www.tumblr.com/adoreeenina/732356439483514880/i-wanna-be-yours-ch-6

Chapter 7: https://www.tumblr.com/adoreeenina/733206892944474112/i-wanna-be-yours-ch-7

Chapter 8: https://www.tumblr.com/adoreeenina/733361718204481536/i-wanna-be-yours-ch-8

Chapter 9: https://www.tumblr.com/adoreeenina/733665109236432896/i-wanna-be-yours-ch-9

Chapter 10: https://www.tumblr.com/adoreeenina/734048119499735040/i-wanna-be-your-ch-10

Chapter 11: https://www.tumblr.com/adoreeenina/734949122571927552/i-wanna-be-yours-ch-11

Chapter 12: https://www.tumblr.com/adoreeenina/736206099243548672/i-wanna-be-yours-ch-12

Chapter 13:(in progress)

-TBC-

# 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐄𝐋 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 ✶ 𝑓𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑚𝘢𝑠𝘵𝑒𝘳𝑙𝘪𝑠𝘵 !

イ 𝑟e𝑎d 𝘛ℎ𝘦 𝘋𝑎𝘮𝑠𝘦𝑙 𝑆𝘦𝑟𝘪𝑒𝘴 𝑜n a𝑜3 i𝑛s𝑡e𝑎d, 𝑖f y𝑜u’d r𝑎tℎe𝑟.

𝙑𝑶𝙇𝑼𝙈𝑬 𝑶𝙉𝑬:

✶ chapter one. | find it here on ao3!

✶ chapter two. | find it here on ao3!

✶ chapter three

✶ chapter four / (coming soon.)

✶ chapter five

✶ chapter six

✶ chapter seven

✶ chapter eight

𝙑𝑶𝙇𝑼𝙈𝑬 𝑻𝙒𝑶:

✶ 𝑐𝘰𝑚𝘪𝑛𝘨 𝘵𝑜 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝘴 𝘣𝑙𝘰𝑔 𝑑𝘦𝑐𝘦𝑚𝘣𝑒𝘳 2025…

𝙑𝑶𝙇𝑼𝙈𝑬 𝑻𝙃𝑹𝙀𝑬:

✶ 𝑐𝘰𝑚𝘪𝑛𝘨 𝘵𝑜 𝑡𝘩𝑖𝘴 𝘣𝑙𝘰𝑔 𝑑𝘦𝑐𝘦𝑚𝘣𝑒𝘳 2029…

TAKEEEE MEEE

TWO STEP TRAP | SMOKE STACK TWINS X F!READER |

You are one of the best dancers at the Midnight Blues joint in Chicago; it was only a matter of time before you encountered the Smoke Stack Twins. Their names linger in the club like perfume and cigars. If you are in the scene, you know them… and of course, they knew you.

contains: 18+ mdni, prequel to sinners, dancer!reader, porn with plot, smut, oral (Stack is a eater), threesome, p in v, pet names, man handling, body worshipping?? talking you through it, fingering, fucking two bad bitches at the same damn time.

You picked up your pace as you looked down at the watch on your wrist. It was nearly ten pm, and Marcus would threaten to lock your ass out if you didn’t arrive on time. He knew better though, you were the one that everyone came to see. Word spread quickly in the streets of Chicago, but there’s a place folks whisper about but rarely name out loud for fear of the White man hearing. It ain’t on any map called The Last Two Step, but if you know the right knock and carry enough heartbreak in your shoes, it’ll guide you behind an unmarked door at the edge of South Parkway Boulevard. In the joint, velvet smoke curls through the air, and every note from Ambrose’s piano drips slow and sticky, like honey off a blade. The Last Two Step is where time forgets itself in the sway of hips and the clink of glasses filled with bourbon. Nobody stumbles in by accident. If you find yourself there, something or someone wanted you to. And once you cross that threshold, baby, the night decides what happens next.

At the corner of your eye, you could see a slightly older, light-skinned woman shimmying her body down the alley to the hidden doorway of the club. “Miss Felicity! Wait up & hold the door, will you?” You hollered. Her head whipped to look behind her in alarm, but her glare softened once she saw you quickly following after her. She laughed at you as you tried to steady your breath.

“When will you learn your lesson and stop rushing at the last minute?” Felicity shook her head as you hurried inside and double-checked to see if anyone followed after y'all.

You flashed her a grin and said, “Probably right after you stop pretending you don’t love the thrill. Chaos builds character. Have you ever heard that?”

“Girl, you’re practically asking for trouble,” she muttered. Ambrose and the boys were still setting up the stage and tuning their instruments when you passed the wooden dance floor towards the changerooms in the back. Their eyes tracked the way you walked and paused to sneak a peek at your backside when they thought you wouldn’t notice. They were never slick enough to avoid getting caught. “Y’all are no better than little boys!” Felicity swatted at them as she climbed onto the stage and straightened her skirt. Felicity’s voice carried throughout the establishment even when she wasn’t singing and harmonizing with the band.

“Can’t blame us for admiring!” one of them defended.

Rolling your eyes, you pushed into the changeroom, more like a storage closet the dancers used to store their things and prepare for the night. Soon enough, the floor out there would be packed with sweaty bodies, hungry eyes, and a swanky beat that was hard to resist. And you? You’d be right in the middle, moving like a snake, soaking up the spotlight like it was poured just for you. Showing off your sultry moves, enticing the eyes of whoever looked upon you.

You weren’t just entertainment. You were a magnet. Marcus, the owner, knew it too. He would give you some of the shares to keep the crowd thick and thirsty, which is why he called you “eye candy.” A walking advertisement, you were good publicity for his juke joint. The three other girls in the room with you, Jacqueline, Deborah, and Ann, had the same deal. They didn’t care for me much, never had been. You drew too much attention, and it didn’t help that you didn’t come from the same background as them. You were the daughter of sharecroppers or “cotton pickers,” they say. Your skin was dark and smooth, shimmering in the light and under sweat. Your full lips, tantalizing gaze, and body that bloomed too fast for your age made you all the more unforgettable. Slim, sultry, and curved just right were the words used to describe her.

Looking into the handheld mirror as you finished the last touches to your makeup, you could see Marcus in the corner of your eye. “Baby, I ain’t paying you to doll yourself up and hide away!” His tone was playful, but there was an edge to his voice, and you knew that if you said the wrong thing, Marcus’ temper would appear. That is probably why he still ain’t been able to keep a woman. He’s only truly satisfied when he's drunk.

“Geez, what’s the hurry?” you whined as you hiked up your skirt higher to show more of your bare legs and patted down any stray hairs on your head from the finger curls.

“I gotta handle some business with the twins. Show ’em this is the kinda spot they wanna put their money in,” Marcus said, smoothing down his vest with a wink. The mention of the twins made your ears perk up. Smoke & Stack weren’t just names; they were similar to legends, stitched into the underbelly of Chicago. You didn’t just meet the Smoke Stack twins, you survived an encounter with them. If they were sniffing around Marcus’s place, it meant money was about to flow, and trouble wasn’t too far behind.

The music thrummed through your body and travelled to your chest as you allowed yourself to get lost in the rhythm and blues. All around you, a sea of Black bodies moved as one to the voice of Felicity and Ambrose’s band. In the night, they became a living and breathing entity under the heavy and melliferous air of the juke joint. The outside world slipped away in this moment, and all that mattered was the here and now. This is why you always answered the call of The Last Two Step, chasing the high of being free and being a person who is looked up to and not down upon. So far, there were no signs of the twins, and Marcus was growing more antsy by the minute. He’s resorted to pouring you more alcohol than he could offer, anything to make the party look wild and enticing to anyone who came inside.

Anticipation is the sweetest form of torture, and when the identical twins strolled through the entrance, it seemed as though the room truly came alive. Your eyes met with one of them. It wasn’t easy to tell them apart. He flashed a crooked smile, revealing a set of grills over his canines and front teeth. You twirled lightly, letting your waist roll slowly and deliberately. A glance over your shoulder caught the twins approaching Marcus at the bar, who suddenly looked boyish beside their commanding, muscular forms. Marcus was tall, handsome, and fit, but the twins had a figure that only one could have achieved by working hard in the fields.

Jacqueline broke you out of your thoughts when she walked beside you, “If one of those twins so much as smiled my way, I'd be slippin' outta my panties without a second thought.” She looked at the group of men with hungry eyes, drinking them in. You couldn’t blame her, but you’d be damned if any of the other dancers got a taste of the twins before you did. If the rumours were true, the twins were hung like a horse and knew how to eat a girl out so well that she could start humming in colours she had never seen before.

You watched as Deborah and Jacqueline positioned themselves near the twins and got brutally ignored. Better them than you. It’s better that you learn what not to do through them than make a fool of yourself. Moments passed as you danced amongst the crowd, and the music began to slow into a two-step dance, and people began to couple off. Scanning the crowd, you could see a man making his way to you. He’s been ogling you for most of the night and didn’t look too rough. Shit, one dance won’t hurt, right? It’s not like it’ll be your first or last.

Mid-stride, one of the twins drawled, “Ease up, kid,” bumpin’ his shoulder with a grin. “I’ll take it from here, see?”

The young man screwed up his face, about to give the southern gentlemen a piece of his mind but thought better of it when he saw the twin flash him a crooked smile. Smoothing out his button-up shirt, the young man puffed out his chest and recovered quickly. “No worries, boss.” He gave me a once-over before nodding his head in dismissal. The unnamed twin didn’t even bother to turn his head to ensure he was gone before extending a hand in your direction.

“May I have this dance?” His smile revealed the notorious grill the twins were famous for, shining faintly in the dimly lit venue. You couldn’t recall whether it was Smoke or Stack who wore it. Ultimately, did it matter? You paused and accepted his hand. His warm, large, and calloused grip completely enveloped your hand. Aside from counting cash, your thoughts drifted to what else his fingers might be good at. He instantly pulled you in closer with ease. Your bodies were flush against each other, now chest to chest. You peered up at him.

“Well, I don’t have much of a choice, now do I?” You countered. The chuckle that left his throat vibrated throughout his whole body. It didn’t help that when you took a breath to calm your erratic heart, his cologne and natural fragrance evaded your senses. As the two of you fell into rhythm with the music, the thoughts running in your head were anything but holy. It was rare for a man to elicit such a response from you on the first encounter.

“A lady always has a choice,” he rebutted, voice like molasses slow drippin’ off a spoon.

“Who said I was a lady?” you challenged, chin tilted and your cheeks filled with heat. Once it slipped out of your mouth, there was no snatching it back. You've always been reckless with how words leapt past your lips without permission. He didn’t as much as blink at your question and didn’t smirk either. Just stepped in closer, real close, until the scent of smoke, cologne, and something else curled in your nose again. His thigh rose between your legs, stopping just shy of making contact with your center, enough to make your breath catch in your throat, dipping you down and pulling you back up in time with the strums of the guitar that played aloud.

“Then I reckon I ain’t gotta treat you like one,” he murmured, voice pitched low and dangerous, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I do like a woman who talks back.” You swore your knees might buckle right there. “S’wrong? Cat’s got your tongue?” he joked to lighten the obvious tension that grew quickly between you two. You could hear your heartbeat over the hum of the blues and chatter surrounding you. His thigh lingered, firm and deliberate, almost making you forget your damn name. But you weren’t going to let him have the upper hand. Not entirely.

Leaning in just a little, with parted lips and sharp eyes. “And what do they call you, stranger?” your voice came out strong and daring like you weren’t already trying to keep your head on straight.

He didn’t answer right away, dragging his gaze from your eyes to your lips, then down to the space between you that barely existed anymore. “They call me Stack,” he finally said, a slow smile began curling at the corner of his mouth. “But you can call me Elias Moore.” He said it like a promise as he lowered his deep red fedora hat, his eyes never leaving yours. His name hung in the air, impossible to ignore. The kind of name a woman didn’t forget, even if she wanted to. The Elias Stack Moore stood before you. Being his girl could open up more doors for you than you could count.

“Come on,” he drawled, his hand brushing the small of your back. “Dance floor’s gettin’ too damn crowded for what I got in mind.” You felt him guide you, firm but unhurried, through the sea of moving bodies, past the haze of cigar smoke and spilled bourbon. Nobody paid y’all any mind. Juke joints were built on secrets and sideway glances anyway.

The changeroom door creaked as he pushed it open with his shoulder. The low bulb above our heads flickered like it knew what was coming. Inside, it smelled like lavender powder and dust. The old velvet curtains were draped over crates, hiding booze and our valuables. The crooked mirror watched us from their respective corners. He closed the door behind you with a click that felt louder than it was.

He leaned against it for a beat, arms crossed, watching you like he was still deciding whether to kiss you or ruin you slowly. “Now,” Stack’s voice dropped to a sinful hush, “where were we?”

You didn’t move. Didn’t speak. This boy must’ve lost his goddamn mind if he thought the two of you were going to get hot and heavy in this sorry excuse of a change room. You weren’t a lady, but you had class and respect, very little of it, but it was there nonetheless. The two of you stood in the quiet room, and the silence stretched thick with possibility. Stack pushed off the door and lazily strolled toward you like he had all the time in the world. His boots barely made a sound on the old wooden floors. Every inch he closed made your skin feel tighter.

“You always this quiet when you want something?” he asked. Stack stopped shy of touching you, his hands at his sides like he dared you to lean in first. The nerves in your body buzzed like a live wire. You were all too aware of how your desires practically had you ready to drop to your knees. But you kept your face unreadable, and it was your best defence. You’d been raised to survive men like Elias Stack Moore. The smooth talkers with heat behind their eyes and a storm tucked inside their smiles.

“Depends on what I want,” you finally said. “And whether it’s worth the noise.”

“Oh, I’m worth it,” he replied. Stack threw his hat on the dressing room counter to reveal his face. But I ain’t cheap.” You gave him a steady look up and down. His shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show a sliver of his skin. Everything he wore appeared nicely tailored to his physique, too.

“Neither am I,” you shot back.

Stack was now an inch away from your face, his warmth wrapped around you like steam off a kettle. His hand reached out, not to grasp nor to grope, but to tuck a stray curl behind your ear, rough fingers grazing your cheek like an invitation.

“Trust me, sugar, you keep carryin’ on as you do, and Chicago gon’ be hollerin’ your name louder than they ever did mine or my brother’s.”

“Well then,” you said, sliding your hand up his chest, fingers trailing the buttons of his shirt like you were counting sins, “guess it's a damn good thing I don't mind how my name sounds in another’s mouth.”

Shifting your hips just enough to make your intentions loud and clear without a single word more. Stack’s breath hitches just a little, but you caught it. You always did. You knew that taking it further would be a reckless mistake, but Lord, it’d feel like salvation. The end of a prolonged drought, giving in, would feel like the first rainfall. Wet, overwhelming, and too damn good to stop. Stack’s eyes told you he was ready to drown in it, and hell, you might just let him.

She didn't have to speak, just the slow roll of her hips were enough to knock the wind out of him. She knew how deep she could cut without drawing blood. His breath caught in his throat, bare and ragged. God help him. He wanted to ruin you in a way that leaves a mark and memory.

Stack knew better. He knew this would get messy. With a glance at your slicked thighs, Stack knew you'd provide no mercy.

Leaning in close, lips just shy of his ear. “Still quiet, Stack?” you whispered in a sweet and teasing voice. “I figured by now you'd know how to beg.” You loved turning his words and spinning them against him. His raw reactions were entertaining to see.

Stack’s jaw tightened, but his eyes didn't waver. “I don't beg, sugar,” his tone changed to a quiet and threatening one. “I take.”

You flashed him a wicked smile and hooked a finger around his belt buckle. “Then come take it.”

He didn't wait, with his hands on your waist, before you could exhale. His rough palms and fingers dug in as if he meant to claim something, or he already had.

“You sure about this?” He muttered against your neck, voice hoarse. Hot breath dragging over your skin. “Cause once I get started, I ain't stopping till I’ve wrung every drop outta yah.”

“Make good on allat talk,” you replied. That was all it took. Stack kissed you like he was desperate. Teeth and tongue felt like a little too much and not nearly enough. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed you up against the old brick wall, grinding against you with slow, punishing friction. His hands found the hem of your skirt, bunching it up, and slid a hand underneath with practiced ease.

“Fuck,” Stack groaned when he felt how soaked you already were. Two fingers slipped along your folds. “You tryna kill me, baby?”

“I ain't even started yet.”

He dropped to his knees like he'd been praying for the chance. Pulling your thighs apart and pushing your back against the cool wall. With a tongue hot and desperate, he licked up your pussy, groaning like you were his last meal. Your hand shot to his head, gripping tight, guiding him just as you liked it. He didn't need much. He was already lost in you. Every moan sounded like praise.

“That’s it,” you hissed, rocking yourself into his mouth. “Don’t fucking stop now.”

“I won’t,” Stack promised. Not until your legs were shaking, and his jaw was slick with you. Not until your pretty moans turned into curses and your body tried to escape, then pleasure only could chase you.

When he finally stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked at you, a man completely undone. Stack spun you around like it was second nature, pressing you into the wall with one hand, pinning your wrists above your head. His belt clinked open behind you, the soft grating of his zipper loud in the stillness.

"You sure you can take it, girl?" he muttered. Looking back, you could see Stack grip his thick length in his hand, pumping it up and down before lining his dick against your soaked entrance, teasing but firm. "Ain't no holding back tonight."

“Give it to me like you mean it,” you snapped.

Stack slammed into you in one cunning and possessive thrust. You gasped when your forehead hit the brick. He didn't give you a second to adjust, just wrapped an arm around your waist and started working his hips in a relentless tempo. The room echoed with sounds of skin meeting skin, moans, and his low curses. His other hand found your clit, and began rubbing small circles to make you fall apart all over again.

“You feel that?” he panted in your ear with pride. “This pussy is mine.”

You cried out, eyes fluttering shut from ecstasy. “Stack… fuck—” was all you managed to get out before he began grinding himself deeper inside.

Your orgasm was intense and all-consuming, tearing a high pitched outcry to escape your lips as you clenched your walls around him. Stack’s thrusts began to be uneven and passionate as he chased his own high. And just when he was on the edge, body trembling, and his muscles taut against yours…

“Well, goddam!”

Both of your heads snapped to the door. Stack froze inside of you, jaw clenched, with wide eyes at the sight of his twin brother.

Smoke stood there, curtly closing the door behind him and leaning against the doorframe like he walked in on a business deal instead of his brother balls deep in another’s soul.

“I come lookin’ for Stack and come to find this.” He gestured between the two of you with an amused look. “Y’all ain't even had the decency to lock the door?”

“Get the fuck out, Smoke,” Stack sounded feral.

Smoke smirked in return, kissing his teeth. “Don’t let me interrupt,” his fingers slipped behind him to turn the lock on the door. “Finish where you left off.”

Stack didn’t pull out. He didn’t even make a move as Smoke’s laughter faded. His grip on your hips tightened like he was claiming you harder now that he’d been seen. He was practically primal, yet there was a hesitation, a shift between the three of you.

“Good. Thought I might stick around this time.”

“You got one fuckin’ second to turn around,” Stack growled, still buried inside you, his chest rising and falling against your back.

“Relax,” Smoke said, voice smooth as whiskey and twice as dangerous. “Ain’t here to fight. I just figured if you were gonna fuck her like you mean it. You’d also let her choose who she wants.”

You turned your head slowly, pulse thrumming like a drum. Smoke leaned in the doorway again, one brow raised, hunger in his eyes like he already knew the answer. Stack’s jaw flexed. His hands never left your skin.

“This ain’t a game, Smoke.”

“Never said it was.” His gaze dropped to where your bodies were still joined. “But I seen the way she looks at me, too. Don’t play like you didn’t notice.”

It was the truth, they were identical twins after all. The thought had crossed your mind if they were also the same down there. Smoke had always been the smoother one. The devil that smiled back at you when you flirted with danger. And now, with Stack buried deep and your body still trembling from the last orgasm, part of you wanted to see what it’d be like to be stretched between both of them.

It’s up to her,” Smoke said, you could hear the smile in his voice. “Ain’t it?” Stack didn’t speak. His silence was a storm ready to break.

You turned to face them both, hips still pushed back. You looked at Smoke through your eyelashes, and said, “You better double check that the door is locked this time.”

Smoke jiggled the door handle before focusing his sights on you, bent forward as if committing the sight to memory.

“ Such a pretty little thing,” he murmured. “Didn’t expect you to be so generous.”

Stack remained silent. He just thrust into you once, hard enough to make you gasp and grip the wall again.

“She ain’t yours,” Stack burst, but his voice lacked conviction. He knew what this was. I knew it wasn’t just about possession.

“Ain’t tryin’ to take her,” Smoke replied, stepping near.

His hands were on you before you could think, one sliding up the nape of your neck, the other tilting your chin to face him. He kissed you softly at first until you deepened the kiss. You moaned into his mouth, feeling Stack start to move again behind you, his speed staggering with every second.

“And you’re just lettin’ him have all the fun?” he mumbled against your mouth.

Stack growled low in his throat. “You want a turn, Smoke? Take her mouth. But you better be sure she can handle both of us.”

“Oh, I can,” you whispered, drunk on the moment.

Smoke stepped out of his clothes, his dick already thick and ready. He guided you down to your knees with his hand. You opened your mouth, lips wrapping around him just as Stack banged back into you from behind.

The stretch of both was overwhelming, one in your mouth and one buried deep. Stack fucked you harder now, his hold bruising on your hips, while Smoke let you control the pace with your tongue until he lost his patience and started to thrust into your mouth.

“Look at you,” Smoke groaned. “Takin’ us both like it’s what you were made for.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but you moaned around him, the vibrations making Smoke’s jaw clench. Stack was close, you could feel it in the way his rhythm stuttered and his breathing picked up.

“She’s squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight,” Stack gasped. “She’s gonna make me—fuck—” He pulled out just in time to spill across your back, thick ropes of cum marking your skin while Smoke slid out of your mouth and lifted your chin again.

“Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” Smoke growled, hauling you into his arms like you weighed nothing. He laid you down flat on the velvet covered crates nearby, pushing your knees back and plunging into you with a groan. The angle was brutal and somehow filthier. His eyes locked on yours the whole time, making it impossible for you to look away.

Stack leaned nearby, watching, still catching his breath, chest slick with sweat.

“Don’t think she’s ever been full till tonight.” Smoke said between thrusts.

You cried out, the pressure building fast and hot, your nails scraping down Smoke’s back. He fucked you through it, didn’t stop even as your body shook and your thighs tried to close. You came again loudly and broken open for Smoke to finally bury himself and release inside you.

For a long moment, the only sound was your breath and heartbeat, all three of you covered in sweat and something that felt dangerously close to obsession. Then Stack muttered lowly, “This doesn't change shit.”

“Oh, it changes everything, brother.” Smoke chuckled, pulling out slowly, the evidence of what you had just done dripping down your thighs.

taglist: @marley1773 ➴ feel free to send me more thots

MY OCs

- Princess Visenya Velaryon second of her name, rider of Meraxes The Sliver Queen, The Darkling, Visenya come again

- Trueborn Daughter of Princess Rhaenrya and Laenor Velaryon

- HOTD

- Aaliyah Valentine daughter of MM ( mothers milk)

- a very powerful supe

- THE BOYS

- Jade Hayward

- pogue/kook

- on/off toxic relationship with rafe

- Outer Banks

Another issue regarding x reader fics is that some of you weirdos will tag it x reader and then precede to sneak in descriptors of the reader in the story🤢 “long blonde hair” “her pale skin” and etc. Hotd and Outerbanks fic writers are the main culprits of this bs

Can you make a smut like just pure smut klaus x reader (preferably black/mixed reader)reader is hope Mikealson’s best friend and reader is finally meeting hopes family and she is all hot and bothered by klaus and klaus can tell

“Hii how are you could you maybe make a smut klaus x fem reader hopes best friend (reader)finally meet hope’s family and reader is drawn to klaus and can’t take her eyes off of him and he notices and something happens between them :)”

this was also requested and i wasn’t sure if you could respond to two at once??

Hope and i had been best friends for a while now and i was so nervous about meeting her family. I’ve seen pictures and been told all about them so hopefully everything will be fine but i sort of already have crush on her dad even though i haven’t actually met him?

Hope knows i find him attractive and always makes jokes about it, thankfully she finds it funny instead of making it weird

“i know they’re all gonna love you! You, y/n y/l/n, are gonna become an honorary Mikaelson… or maybe an actual Mikaelson if you marry my dad… will that make me your daughter? should i start calling you Mommy?” i shoved her as we laughed and got out of her car to start walking to to her house, i ended up chasing her most of the way to the door as she fake screamed and ran

“i call maid of honour!” she called as we got to the entrance

“who’s getting married?” was said from behind me making me jump forward towards Hope, she had a big smile on her face as she grabbed my arm

“Dad!! this is y/n remember i told you all about her!?” my face heated up as i ran a hand down my face and glanced at Klaus who looked somehow even better in person than in the photos

“oh god what did you say?” i mumbled shaking my head and both she and her father laughed

“nothing bad love, in fact she said many wonderful things, you enjoy art?” i side eyed a very smiley Hope who was practically buzzing

“she does, she paints too, she’s really good, i think you should show her your art room cuz i know for a fact that she would just looove it, i showed her some of your pieces and her mouth was hanging open like a fish she looked adorable” she rambled but i don’t think Klaus was listening much, he was looking straight into my eyes as his pupil dilated as he licked his bottom lip and hummed

“well them we’ll take her up yes?” he cut hopes rant off and she nodded excitedly

“sure well im gonna see aunt Bex so if you take her to see that- the art! i’ll see you both in a moment” she literally slid out of the room as she slipped and skidded round the corner

“you don’t have to, i think Hopes in a…funny mood” i explained and began walking after her but his large hand took ahold of mine and he spun me back to his chest

“we should go see the art, if she thinks we should see the art then it’s what we should do” i whispered an “okay” in response and he led me up the stairs.

He showed me many paintings and sketches letting me touch the different textures and flip through his books. All the way through he kept a hand on my waist, his face was practically sat in the crook of my neck and he whispered stories of why painted different things. One sketch book had paintings of naked women, or hands touching intimate parts of someone, i felt my panties dampen at the thought of him painting my body, his hands cupping my breasts. He inhaled deeply through his nose and let out a little grunt

“which is your favourite?” he muttered as he bushed himself against me letting me feel his hard on against my ass

“probably that one…” i said quietly pointing to the painting of the women lead on the bed with her back arched and her head thrown back

“mm that was actually a very interesting person, she had very lovely hands you see?” he moved my hand to where hers were, she was squeezing her own breasts, i realised that was the main focus of his drawing, her hands

“you’re very talented Mr Mikaelson” he smirked and rubbed my hip with his thumb

“1000 years of practice can do that, perhaps…you’ll let me do you?” i gulped and slowly turned around so our chests were touching, i was breathing pretty heavily and could feel my breasts brushed against him, i locked eyes with his sapphire ones as i tilted my head up. He leaned down and gently pressed his lips to mine which i immediately reciprocated, they were plump and soft making me push my tongue through them and taste his. He tasted rich and intoxicating making me moan into his mouth and moved my hands to hold the back of his head while his held onto my waist pulling me tightly against him. He moved a hand down and lightly squeezed my ass under my skirt. He pushed his leg in between my thighs and moved me along his jeans, the fabric quickly darkened with my wetness as it went through my underwear onto him. I panted when he moved his mouth down to suck along my jaw and then down and back up my neck finding my sweet spot just below my ear and paying it extra attention. I moaned again louder and i began grinding against him harder. He brought his hands down to lift me up by my thighs, i wrapped my legs around him as he connected our mouths again.

Our tongues entwined and the sound of pages scattering the floor filled the room, i was put into the now empty table, i was pushed flat on my back and my legs were pulled to the edge

“you look so bloody beautiful spread our like this, suck a lovely dress” he told me and kissed down my neck to my cleavage, he ran his tongue along the swell of my breasts. I arched my back and moved my hands up to undo some of the buttons going down so he had better access to them. Klaus gently cupped them both and then attached his lips to my left one making me gasp. He tugged on it and swirled his tongue around it before giving the same affection to the other one. He undid the rest of the buttons and pushed it off my arms leaving me completely bare for him.

Nervousness flooded through me and i brought my knees up to my chest so i was covered

“i want to see you y/n, all of you” he whispered and pulled my knees apart to look at my most private area. The vulnerability of being so open for him while he was still fully clothed had me avoiding any eye contact as he studied me.

“you are magnificent you know that? absolutely divine” he announced moved so he was off the table and pulling me to the edge, he went down onto his knees and held my legs open

“do you want this, love?” he whispered locking eyes with me

“i- i do” he smirked in response and his tongue darted out. His hot tongue kitten licked at my clit, my hands flew to his hair and pulled him towards me breathing out his name as though it were a prayer

“lay back love” he instructed before his actions became more. He was now sucking harshly at my clit and his tongue teased my entrance making me gasp a moan. I opened my legs as wide as they would go when his skilful tongue entered me, he expertly plunged it within me and i called out for him desperately. The dreams i had were no where near as brilliant as the real thing. I could feel myself fluttering around his tongue, his thumb went to my clit and drew figures of eight upon it, he gradually got faster and i pulled at his sandy locks. The burning sensation pulsed through me, my nails scratched his scalp, his groan adding to the pure pleasure coursing inside while my toes curled and i came into his mouth. His thumb slowed and gently tapped my clit as he licked up every last drop that escaped me.

“You taste fantastic y/n” he whispered and kissed me again letting me see how sweet i was in his mouth.

“can you take your clothes off now” i asked shyly still playing with his curls. He smirked and kissed my lips again

“i suppose it’s only fair” he said while removing his shirt. I gaped at his toned body and couldn’t help but run my fingertips down his torso as he undid his belt, when i glanced down to his underwear i audibly swallowed

“i know you’re going to be so good for me” he uttered stroking my cheek with his palm while palming himself

“how…how do you want me?” i hesitated before asking still eyeing his thickness, almost drooling when he twitched

“Let’s get you on the floor” he pulled me down from the table and onto the floor

“hands and knees love” he whispered and i did as told. He disappeared for a second before returning with a pillow, he stretch my arms and and told me to rest my head on the pillow. I arched my back for him and shivered at the thoughts running through my mind

“you’re sure?”

“i’m positive” i replied

A moment later his tongue was in my folds again gathering my juices and sliding into my centre before exiting again and shifting himself forward, his hands rubbed my ass and down my back, he gripped onto my hips and guided me onto his dick. My tight walls swallowed him as soon as he entered his thick length and we both moaned.

“oh god” i mumbled and stretched myself further

“not god love, just me” he slowly removed himself until just is tip remained inside me before thrusting back in forcefully and building a rhythm from there

“i don’t think ‘just me’ is a fair answer there, you’re basically a god” he gave a breathy laugh and continued moving, i had never felt so full in my life, his cock buried far inside me hitting my g-spot just right making me cry out for him to continue. He gave guttural moans from behind me. His hands moved up my back and got ahold of the area between my neck and shoulders, he pulled me back into him to meet his forceful jolts. I tightened around him and i could feel my clit screaming to be touched, almost as if he could read my mind one hand left my shoulder and went to his mouth before down against my bundle of nerves.

“you going to cum for me sweet y/n?” he asked as he twitched inside me and his thrusts became slightly sloppy. I nodded rapidly and my body shook with the force he used to fuck me. i squeezed the pillow between my hands and cried out a moan of his name as i clamped around him and let him fill me with his hot fluid.

He rocked into me for a while longer before slipping out of me and letting out a sigh of contentment. My body relaxed and my face pressed into the pillow, my ass was still propped in the air and i groaned at the ache in my core pushed myself up on my arms and then my hands and rolled over to sit down

“did i do okay?”

“you did perfectly, come here” i crawled over to him and he tilted my head to kiss my lips slowly and softly

“Hope’s waiting for us and you need to meet everyone else but next time i’ll take you out for a romantic dinner, i’ll get you another pretty dress, your favourite flowers which i already know because Hope has told me everything i could need to know and then if you want something like this again ill have you in my bed” i blushed dark and nodded smiling

“i’d like that very much”

POWER

summary: Jade always knew something’s was off about herself,it wasn’t because she was a supe, it was something else… something…. powerful. Jade has suffered almost all her life, and now she finally has a chance to show people what’s she’s capable of, but….at what cost?

coming soon!!!!

YESSSSS LAWDDDDD

Attention

MDNI

Pairing-Elijah*Smoke*Moore x BlackOC

A/N-If you guys have any suggestions or advice I would love to hear it sine I don’t know how to write smexy scenes that good also I love comments so leave those other than that I hope you enjoy lovelies

Summary-Arna returns to the Mississippi Delta and, upon visiting the Smokestack Twins juke joint, captures the attention of a former lover who still harbors some resentment over her departure.

It’s late. Past two zara walk past her sister zara and stack. The juke joint’s about emptied out except for the broken bottles, and the blues.

Arna walk in slow—heels clicking like clock hands on hardwood, time rewinding with every step—and she doesn’t look around. She knows exactly where he is.

The top deck. Alone. Brooding like a storm waiting to remember how to rain.

Smoke’s eyes find Arna before she even reach him. And she feel it. Like heat on skin, like gravity sharpening.

Yeah, you know I see you over there (ooh-ooh)

Girl, you caught my eye (yeah)

He doesn’t smile. He just leans back, one hand on the railing, cigarette barely touched, jaw clenched under the brim of that fedora. The way he watches her walk is criminal. She stand beside him. And she knows what he’s thinking.

Love the way you put it on

Girl, you got my attention

All of my attention, yes

“You always this dressed up when you come to haunt a man?” Smoke asks, voice thick as bourbon and twice as warm.

He looked her up and down, slow. The dress clings to her like a secret. “Only when the ghost’s still breathin’.”

He laughs, but there’s no joy in it. Just gruffness. “You got a mean way of comin’ back, girl.”

Tight black linen, sheer

Perked up in brassiere

Yeah, you got me, uh-huh, uh-huh

Burnin’ up in here

She tilts her head. He's sweating. “Seems like someone didn't forget me,” Arna teases.

Two black five-inch heels

Dressin’ to kill ‘em here

I ain’t sweatin’ these women here

The essence is missin’ here

Smoke shifts forward. His voice drops. “You think I ain’t tried to forget you? Had every reason to. But damn if you don’t walk in like the ending I never got.”

Arna stayed silent. Letting him get it out.

So I’m ready to disappear

Let’s just go, my dear (mm)

She leaned in close, just enough to pull him back in with scent alone. “Then disappear with me.”

His fingers tap the edge of the glass in front of him, untouched. “You still dangerous.”

Arna smiled. “Only to men who lie to themselves.”

‘Cause the way you put it on

Make me wanna take it off you

Got me so amazed, in awe

I don’t wanna wait, no (I don’t wanna wait)

The tension’s tight, like the air just before thunder. They both feel it. The weight of memory. The ache of almost.

Nah, come on

I don’t wanna wait, but you’re stayin’ for the champagne

2 a.m. is creepin’ up, you know how to keep me up

“Still drinkin’ that bootleg you claim aged you?” She tease.

“I been aged,” he mutters. “Liquor just tries to keep up.”

She touch his hand. Not soft. Not slow. Like she meant it. His pulse jumps under your fingers.

No, it won’t be easy, but I’ll be here, believe me, yes (yeah)

She turnin’ me up, am I not tipsy-turvy enough?

Baby, my vision gettin’ blurry, huh

Smoke stares at her like he’s memorizing her again. Like he’s starving.

Blurry enough, but I can still see and I’m certain, ah-ah, mm

The way you light it up in here

Dress shimmer like the chandelier

Diamonds in your ear

“I never looked at nobody like I look at you,” he says, low. “You knew that. Still left.”

Arna look him dead in the eye. “Maybe I wanted you to come find me.”

You makin’ one thing very clear

And baby, when you put it on

There’s no competition

They both lean in at once. Magnetized. Dizzy. So close you forget what holding back ever felt like.

I watch you make a entrance, baby

Yes, and you can tell by my description (you fit it well, and girl)

“I won’t never fail to mention it,” Smoke says, voice cracking like vinyl. “What we were. What we still are.”

I won’t never fail to mention (how you polish every detail)

Losin’ time, tryna go the distance

You got all my attention, baby

I’m ready to disappear

Let’s just go, my dear

He offers a hand. She take it.

No one says where they’re going. Doesn’t matter. They already left the world behind the moment she walked in.

‘Cause the way you put it on

Make me wanna take it off you

Got me so amazed, in awe

I don’t wanna wait, no (I don’t wanna wait)

The door swings shut behind them. The blues music fades.

Nah, come on

I don’t wanna wait, but you’re stayin’ for the champagne

2 a.m., it’s creepin’ up, you know how to keep me up

Arna don’t look back. Neither does smoke .

𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐞, 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢 𝟑:𝟎𝟎𝐚𝐦

The motel room is dim and dusty, lit only by the neon beer sign flickering through the blinds. Arna barely make it through the door before Smoke has her pinned against it—hat hitting the floor, mouth crashing into hers with the force of everything unspoken between them.

“Thought you were just here to haunt me,” he mutters against her throat. “Didn’t know you came to surrender.”

Her breath catches in her throat. “I didn’t come to surrender.”

He chuckles darkly. “Then I’ma take it.”

One hand snakes up her thigh, dragging her dress high, while the other wraps tight around her jaw—not rough, but firm. Claiming. He forces her head back just enough to look in her eyes.

“You want my attention?” he growls. “You got it, baby. All of it.”

He spins her around, palms flat to the wood, her body pressed to the door as his hips grind up behind her. She can feel him—hard, thick, hungry—and her knees almost give out, but he doesn’t let her drop.

“You don’t get to run this time,” he whispers into Zara’s ear, voice low and gritty. “You gonna take everything I give you, understand?”

She nod, breathless.

“No, baby. Say it.”

“I understand.”

“Good.”

He tears the dress down her shoulders, letting it puddle around her heels. His fingers slide between her legs, slow at first—then deeper, wetter, coaxing breathy moans out of her until she’s arching into him. But just when she start to beg, he pulls away.

“You think you make the rules, but this? This is my show.”

She hear the sound of his zipper sliding. Then the thick head of him presses between your thighs.

“Open up for me,” he murmurs, guiding her legs apart with a knee.

And then—he fills her. One deep, devastating stroke that steals her breath.

“Damn,” he groans into your neck. “Tighter than I remember.”

He doesn’t give you time to adjust—he sets a rhythm, deep and slow at first, each thrust deliberate, punishing in how good it feels. Her fingers claw at the door, but Smoke just presses harder into her, one hand tangling in her hair, yanking her head back so he can watch her face in the mirror across the room.

“You see what you do to me?” he pants. “You see how wild you make me?”

Each word is a thrust. Each thrust is a promise.

He bends her forward, one hand gripping her hip, the other slipping under her belly to stroke her clit while he pounds into her from behind—rougher now, relentless.

“You wanted my attention,” he growls. “Now you got me losin’ my damn mind.”

Her moans are ragged, pleading. He knows she’s close, and it makes him even rougher, more possessive. He presses his chest to her back and whispers in her ear.

“Don’t you dare come ‘til I say so.”

“You hear that, baby?”he whispers. “My pussy's talkin’ to me, hm,” he groaned.

The control in his voice makes her knees buckle—but he holds her up, pushing her harder, deeper, until the burn turns to bliss.

Then, finally—“give it to me, baby.”

And she fall apart, shaking, crying out his name as he thrusts once, twice, then groans against her neck as he follows her over the edge.

Silence. Only the sound of breathing, tangled and spent.

He kisses the side of her neck, soft now. “Told you I never forgot you.”

She can’t speak. Can barely stand.

“Next time you leave,” he whispers, “you better take me with you.”