#Fallen Leaves Across Trail | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shomatoriashi · 1 month ago

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11/29/24; 03:03pm

dragon!sylus x fem.reader

notes: for all the sylus girlies out there, this is going to be my thirstiest and most self-indulgent dragon!sylus fic (⺣◡⺣)♡ again, this is all just my interpretation and it may not even be close to canon!

warnings: monster f-cking oh my god i can't believe i'm going to do this since i've never written this type of spicy story before 😭😭😭😭😭 i'm sorry if this ends up sucking so bad !! i just want to type out my spicy thoughts hhhhhh

[ minors don’t interact; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings. ]

night had fallen across your small village, painting the once lively desert in somber hues of blue. with the moonlight as your guide, you drape your shawl even closer to your body to help with warding off the cold air.

as you made your way to the oasis, your mind was filled with anxious thoughts pertaining to your mother. she had once again fallen ill, her frail body being taken over by a fever as she struggled to even breathe while she lay motionless in bed. your heart was filled with love for your mother as you spent the night wiping the sweat from her brow with a damp cloth, not wishing to leave her side.

feeling your presence next to her, her eyes blearily meet with your gaze as a tiny smile paints her expression. "you should...rest..." even with her reassuring words, you refused to leave her side.

yet when your bucket of water runs dry, you knew you had to leave your mother to get more water. you needed to help her with breaking her fever, and in order to do that, you had to get more water from the oasis. leaving the damp cloth across her brow, you told her that you would return soon before setting off towards the crystalline pool of water. each step that you take brings an image of your sickly mother and the thought of how much weaker she had become-

with a click of your tongue, you banish such intrusive beliefs, refusing to even entertain the thought that you would ever lose her. fighting back against the cold, you push forward as you made your trek across the sands, noticing the palm trees and the sight of those ruby red flowers in the distance as they swayed in the wind. anticipation was felt coursing through your veins, your legs now breaking out into a run until you were just a mere few feet away from the crystalline waters of the pond-

but as fate would have it, you were not alone.

settled in the midst of the pond was what appeared to be a winged demon, his wings remaining spread as you felt pinpricks of fear clenching around your heart. your breathing was uneven and heavy as you slowly backed away from him, only to see the demon lift his head, his silvery hair seeming to glow beneath the moonlight.

"your heavy breathing is a dead giveaway." you gasp, feeling your heart jump within the confines of your throat the moment he suddenly appears before you. rufescent eyes gaze down at you in amusement as full lips remain tilted up in a smirk. your eyes trail toward his silver locks of hair and finally noticed the two horns settled atop his head (the image reminding you of a dark and regal crown). from his broad chest to the alluring crimson gemstone settled in the middle of his pale skin-

the demon was equal parts devastatingly beautiful and terrifying to you.

his wings end up engulfing you, trapping your body against his as he takes in a deep whiff of your hair before trailing the tip of his nose against your skin. as he takes in your scent, you were certain that he could hear the way your heart seemed to pound from out of your ribcage.

"yet perhaps what's more distracting than your breathing is the lingering scent of death you have..."

his words succeed in making your heart cease its beat, your fear now replaced with anxiety as you narrowed your gaze at him. "w-what do you mean?"

a look of intrigue was seen settled within his crimson gaze. "there's no need to be so frightened, treasure. you look to be as healthy as a mare... yet someone close to you-"

mother...!

you gripped at the demon's shoulder, allowing your nails to dig into them while your gaze became wild, "my mother... you're referring to my mother. please, can you save her?!"

he doesn't answer your panicked words, but at this point, you were willing to do anything to save the only family you had left-

even if it meant forging a deal with the devil.

"please, i'll do anything for her! if you have the means to save her-"

the demon lets out a deep chuckle, the sound being enough to send almost pleasant vibrations down your spine. using his free hand, he wraps it around your waist, bringing you closer to his naked chest while at nearly eye level with the ruby settled on it. "relax, treasure... if you're willing to do anything, then i suppose i can give you this."

as if it were made by magic itself, he gently pulls something out of your hair, extracting a vial that held a deep red liquid. "give this to your mother, and it shall heal any ailment that she has."

hope erupts within your chest, yet before you could utter another word, the devil whispers into your ear, "remember your promise to me, treasure."

and with those final words, he disappears away from you, leaving you alone with an empty bucket and a mysterious vial. not wishing to wait another second, you rush back to your mother, nearly pushing your body to its limits.

your lungs were burning now when you finally reached home, a quaint little hut settled near the edge of your village. you enter and immediately go to your mother, holding her frail frame closer to your chest as you uncapped the vial and open your mother's mouth, pouring the crimson liquid inside.

she coughs a bit, but manages to swallow the entire contents of the vial. once you were certain the vial was emptied, you toss it to the side, watching your mother with baited breath.

despite your anxiety, you felt your hope continue to grow when there were noticeable changes seen within your mother. the color slowly came back to her skin, her lips no longer appearing ashen and dry. along with those changes, you noticed how her hair slowly became glossier, and as she opened her eyes, it was clear that they were livelier than ever.

"mother...!" letting out chocked sobs, you cling to your mother, basking in her soft coos of your name as she places a gentle kiss against the top of your hair.

and as you sought the comfort of your mother's arms, you remained blissfully unaware of glowing ruby eyes watching your every move.

{ ... }

your life had gotten brighter with your mother by your side, healthy and glowing with vitality. now that you had her back, the memory of the devil and your promise to him became a distant memory-

however, it would quickly become apparent that not even demons would go back on their words.

one late evening, as you were in the midst of making supper with your mother, the sounds of a stampede approaching fills your heart with dread. the commotion doesn't go unnoticed by your mother as her eyebrows remain furrowed in response.

"what is going on?"

you put a finger over your lips, blowing out all of the lit candles as you listened intently to the conversation from outside of your home.

"our king has requested that we find her and bring her to him."

"but of course, as if i would be foolish enough to go against the drake borne from shadows."

upon hearing such a strange title, your mouth goes dry as your mind goes back to that fateful night-

the night the demon had helped with saving your mother from appearing at death's door-

he had remembered after all.

the sounds of footsteps grow louder and heavier, giving you little time to react when the flimsy door of your home was kicked down. dozens of men dressed in suits of armor began crowd around you, and your mother's panicked cries made your head spin.

"it's her, his bride...!"

"get your hands off of my daughter!" your mother's shrill cries echo within your ear as she tried to claw at the men who had captured you.

"get this wench away from us!" the broad man holds you close to his armored chest while tossing your mother a large pouch filled with gold. "take this as a gift from our king... consider it a dowry of sorts."

"you bastard, give my daughter back to me! SHE'S WORTH MORE THAN JUST A MERE FEW PIECES OF GOLD!" your mother cries out to them, about to reach out to you once more when you stopped her.

"no, it's okay... i'll be okay..." you swallow back your tears and meet her gaze, "i-i was the one who made a deal with the devil. h-he saved your life... and i promised to repay him."

a pained expression crosses your mother's features, "w-what do you mean...?"

the knights remain silent, yet still kept you in a tight grip to prevent you from running away, "that night when you suffered from a fever... you were close to dying... and he had sensed that. i didn't wish to lose you, so he gave me this vial filled with a deep crimson liquid-"

"you have been blessed by the shadow dragon's blood, do not let my king's sacrifice go to waste."

you felt your heart break the moment your mother's face crumpled a bit when she realizes the truth, with her hands immediately covering her lips as she watches you being taken away from her.

as they began to carry you out of your hut, you didn't wish to worry her as you cried out, "i'll be back soon... just please... do not worry about me! i'll come home soon..."

the last sight you had of your mother was of her falling to her knees with tears streaming down her face.

{ ... }

tarus city was what they called this place-

and you felt as though you were living in a dream, surrounded by glittering gemstones and polished gold. your eyes seemed to water with each new sight that came to you.

even with all of this beauty, you felt a little numb and homesick-

but a promise was a promise.

your devil held up his end of the deal by saving your mother-

and it was your turn to repay him.

you were broken out of your thoughts and given little time to take in the new sights as you were lead even deeper into the city. while the knights dropped you off in a golden palace, you were surrounded by women who helped with preparing you for their king. your body was stripped of your tattered clothing before being dunked into a luxurious tub filled with water warmed by what appeared to be heated stones. the sweet scent of rose petals fills your senses, putting you in a daze as the other maids worked on washing your hair.

once your body was cleaned, the women placed a thin sheen of rose oil against your skin, making sure that you were glistening before wrapping a sensual dress made entirely of silk around you. the finishing touches were added when they painted your lips in a light pink hue before taking you out of the palace.

and you were given little choice but to follow.

settled in a line, you follow the maidens as they walked across tarus city, keeping their heads down with every intention of bringing you to their king. your eyes take in the townspeople and felt a sense of discomfort fill you at how they were looking at you-

like you were someone that was meant to be worshipped.

your reveries were cut short when the women stopped walking, not daring to enter the gaping cave as they parted, settling your form dead in center as they made a path for you. with your heart racing with fear and anticipation, you step forward into the cave with your head held high.

the deeper you walked into the cave, the more you realized that the man wasn't a demon at all, but a dragon after all. when you were younger, your mother would read fairytales to you pertaining to dragons and how they liked to hoard and collect treasure.

and surrounding you was just that- an infinite amount of treasure.

you had never seen such riches before in your life. from rainbow gemstones and rare diamonds of every size to varying gold coins, it was no wonder that your mother had received such a high 'dowry.'

your eyes continue to scan all across the cave only to stop when you saw a familiar sight settled before you.

the devil's drake's back was facing you, and you watch as his serpent-like tail sways back and forth almost lazily. he lay on what appeared to be a smooth marble tablet, his wings nowhere in sight as he was dressed in his dark armor (was it even armor after all? or were they just a part of his body?)

"your footsteps are noisy, and you breathe heavily." the drake manages to reach out to your trembling form with his tail, wrapping the armored appendage around you as he brings your form down against the marble tablet. you land on your back with a gasp, heart beating wildly out of your chest when the devastating man smirks down at you. you were left gazing up at him through your lashes, watching as he closes his eyes before breathing in your scent, "ah, but it seems as though the lingering scent of death no longer haunts you."

he brings up a heavily armored and clawed hand up to your face, gently caressing at your skin with the back of it. even as your heart began to race within the confines of your chest-

you felt no fear-

only a sense of duty for fulfilling your promise to him all while ignoring the strange ache and tingling sensation felt between your legs.

"there's no need to be frightened, treasure." he leans closer to you, placing his lips against your temple. "sylus... you may call me sylus, for only you can call me by my name."

you shiver in response to his voice, feeling it reverberate throughout your body as sylus keeps his head hidden within the curve of your neck. "mmm, they did a good job, making you appear so utterly delectable for me..."

you gasp when you felt the tip of his tail travel between your legs, with sylus purposely sliding the underside of his scorpion-like tail against your slick folds. the odd sensation makes you writhe beneath him against the marble slab, your gasps echoing throughout the cave as you felt a strange pressure build up from within your abdomen.

"hah...ah... this feels... weird b-but so good." your mind was going drunk and hazy from the pleasure as you looked down to see his tail lazily going up and down your pussy lips, collecting your honeyed arousal. sylus lets out a soft groan before removing his tail.

"you smell so fucking sweet..." you tremble when sylus meets your gaze momentarily before descending upon your form. the tip of his horns gently gracing at the silk fabric of your dress, making paper thin tears in them as it slowly fell away from your form. with you remaining utterly bare for the powerful drake, you tremble as he lets out a guttural groan of your name, settling himself between your legs while breathing in your pure feminine scent.

with your slick entrance so close to his lips, sylus wastes no time diving into you, pressing his lips against your entrance as the sheer amount of pleasure he gifts you reaches almost dizzying heights. your hands grasp at his soft strands of hair, yet when he introduces a finger inside of your heat, you opted to cling to his horns for support.

sylus knew of how soft and pliant your body was compared to him, and he was able to maintain a certain amount of gentleness when he allows his hands to trace at your pussy lips. your sweet taste was all that filled him, and when he gently pinches at your hardened, bundle of nerves, he knew he was on the right track when it came to making you fall apart for him.

your back arches against the marble slab, hands gripping at his horns when you called out his name before allowing the tightness felt in your abdomen begin to snap. something warm and hot rushes out of you, earning yet another guttural sound from sylus as his tongue laps up everything you had to offer.

in the midst of your pleasured haze, you watch as sylus stands back to his full height, his hand gripping at the leather the covers his lower body before ripping them away from him. while watching him, you felt your eyes go wide upon seeing such a magnificently terrifying sight.

you had never once been subjected to witnessing a man's arousal before, watching as his cock goes hard while ready to be mated-

let alone two hard cocks that appeared pulsating with an angry shade of red. clear fluids were seen escaping from the tip, but perhaps what was more interesting were the ridges seen decorating the underside of his cock. sylus catches your wide (and admittedly, scared) eyes and smiles down at you. gently framing at your face with his free hand, he uses his other hand to help with further stroking his two cocks. "erase such expressions of fear treasure, for these exist for the sole purpose of pleasuring you."

sylus purposely leans over your, stroking his cocks against your slick folds. with a shaky sigh of his name, you wrap your arms around his broad back, feeling the strange ache become even more intense the moment sylus continued to rub himself against you. "my bride... my precious bride... i'm going to mark you as mine for all of eternity."

with those final words (sounding very much like an oath), sylus thrusts both of his cocks into your slick heat, making you cry out to him as your body struggled to take him all in. not wishing to overwhelm you with the flurry of new sensations, he keeps only half of his cocks within you, sliding them in a rhythmic, back and forth motion inside of you, making you feel not just every inch of him-

but each individual ridge as well.

the pain of having your purity taken was there, but more so than that was the intense pleasure you felt upon feeling his cock taking over the entirety of your slick walls. with his eyebrows furrowed in intense concentration, sylus works on pumping his cocks in and out of your aching cunt, basking in the squelching sounds that seemed to echo across the cave each time he rammed his hips back into yours.

"ngh, s-sylus!" being a now former virgin, you had never experienced such intense pleasure before, with your release rushing out of you in what seemed like an intense wave. the red hot sensation courses through your veins as you spilled your love juices down each of sylus's shafts, earning a broken groan from him.

"f-fuck, i can't last even a second inside of you!" stilling his hips, your moans quickly morphed into broken sobs when he pumps your womb full of his thick cum, with your aching entrance unable to hold it in as his seed spills out of your core in soft spurts.

sylus ends up landing on top of you, his chest pressed achingly close to your breasts as his cocks continued to pump you full of his seed. the intensity of his own release makes him let out a string of curses as he kept his hands in a fisted position next to your head.

when the twitching finally stopped, you were able to catch your breath, feeling the droplets of sweat running down your brow. it takes a couple of minutes for the post, lovemaking clarity to kick in, with sylus letting out a dreamy sigh of your name. he was ready to pull out of you, yet you had stopped him with your legs now wrapped tightly around his waist.

"wait, don't leave me..." you admit to him with heat felt against your cheeks. sylus meets your gaze while giving you a cocky expression, "oh? is my treasure getting greedy now?"

sylus lets out a rich chuckle before tossing both of your legs over his broad shoulder, making you moan when you felt both of his cocks harden while remaining buried deep inside of you. he begins yet another rapid pace while telling you, "hah, fuck, i wanted to go slow and be romantic with you... i had thoughts of spoiling you as my mate by promising to protect you and your mother... but that'll have to wait. right now... i wish to witness your further descent into impurity as i make you dumb and needy on my cocks..."

needless to say, your now husband and mate had successfully accomplished such hedonistic goals.

end notes: man sylus being canonically a dragon makes me so h-rny for him,,,, i need him so bad someone send h e l p. this is unedited, but my goal is to make all you sylus girles just as needy as i am with this post 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

#sylus smut #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x y/n #lads x reader #lads smut #lnds x reader #l&ds smut #lnds smut #l&ds x reader #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #writings 📖

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 10 months ago

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

From the request HERE

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader

Summary: Only a few more days are left of his short leave and Simon is determined to make every last second count with you. What better way to start the day than buried in between your thighs, helping you wake up by the feeling of his tongue alone and then overstimming you.

Word Count: 4.6 k

Warnings:

The sun has just started to peek itself through the small gap in the blinds covering the window, illuminating the bedroom in enough light that it causes Simon to stir awake with the first signs of life as those brown eyes flutter a few times from the brightness until he comes back into consciousness. Rubbing his bare chest and scratching at the patch of hair on his lower abdomen as he rolls over onto his side to face the other body lying peacefully asleep, his breath hitches at the sight that he’s greeted with.

Your long eyelashes rest delicately against your cheek, your chest slowly rising and falling with your deep, calm inhales and exhales as you still drift mindlessly through your dreams. The covers that are pulled up to your breasts conceal your naked form lying just underneath and the way they cling to your form allows him to follow the contours of your body through the fabric. You are a fucking picture of peaceful beauty.

Damn, you are so perfect he cannot look away and suddenly there is a tenting forming beneath the covers still wrapped around his lower half. It’s not his fault; how is he supposed to keep himself restrained when this is what he gets to wake up to? An ache situates itself in his chest, a gnawing blooming in his stomach to caress all that flawlessness. It is a hunger that only grows stronger the more he gazes until he is compelled to get up.

There are only so many days left in the short bit of leave he has and he wants to make every single second count. That’s why you both find yourselves naked even as you sleep; he needs his body to memorize the way yours feels against his and he needs to fuck you whenever the moment strikes, so there is no sense in wasting any amount of time with superfluous things when you both are about to go months without seeing one another. And right now that is working to his benefit as he wants to shower you with some extra attention to start the day.

Just a taste won’t hurt, he thinks, knowing full well that once he starts there is no stopping. Just till she wakes up.

He moves out from the warmth at your side as carefully as he can to ensure that his movements don’t wake you, not yet. The blanket slips from his unclothed hips as he shifts up onto his knees and positions himself over you, his hands atop the mattress on either side of your body so that he can push himself down your sleeping form while his lips take advantage of all that uncovered skin. Feathery light kisses trail down across the supple flesh of your breasts and over your soft torso as his hot mouth presses delicately into you in adoration for all this beauty that he gets to have all to himself.

All these curves, all this smooth, voluptuous skin always ready for him to caress, it is enough to drive him insane.

Muscles ripple through his bare back as he continues down the line of your body, inching slowly so as not to miss any patch of flesh. He is careful not to drag his face too harshly as he goes along so that the stubble on his jaw won’t prick your skin, opting instead to pick his head up off you as he moves only to lower it back down at the next spot ready to receive his attention. Your skin is heated from being snuggled down in the bed and it invites him to nuzzle his nose into it as he goes.

Simon eventually reaches the edge of the covers that have fallen around your waist from him getting up and he has to lift them out of the way to reveal the rest of your gorgeous body to his yearning mouth. Rolling them back at a leisurely pace, he makes sure not to reveal too much so the cooler air outside of the blanket doesn’t have a chance to make you uncomfortable until the warmth from his lips can keep the skin flushed. Over the curve of your waist, your stomach, your hip bones he places his steamy kisses. It is when he gets to your belly button that the anticipation finally hits him that he is getting closer to his favorite spot: that beautiful place in between your thighs.

The mattress creaks under his weight as he arrives at the foot of the bed so that he can remove the covers and push them off your legs. He can feel his cock throb as he pulls them back and finds what he’s always pining for. A heavy exhale falls from his lips and his mouth begins to salivate as he catches that first glimpse of your legs laying splayed open and that sweet little pussy just there waiting for his mouth to embrace.

Simon can’t ever get his fill of it and God, he needs it so bad now that he sees it again. For a split second he thinks about making his movements more pronounced to wake you up, but a sudden intrusion of an idea makes him stop. You had mentioned recently that you were wanting to try something, to be woken up with his tongue lapping against your clit. What kind of man would he be if he never indulged his sweetheart’s fantasies? Today seems as good a day as any to make your dreams come true, not that he ever needs an excuse to get lost in all that goodness between your legs.

There are times when he is so ravenous for your cunt that nothing else will even come close to satisfying that beast inside him, but today he doesn’t want it to be about the harsh and rough… well, not yet; this morning is all about making you so delirious and overstimulated off his tongue only that you won’t be able to get out of bed at all and he can keep you all to himself for the entire fucking day.

Quietly Simon slides himself off the edge of the bed to situate himself kneeling on the carpet so that he can lay his torso on the mattress, giving him a better angle to be able to move in. Your legs are positioned open in such a way that from here he can easily slip his face up in between them and right against you, but he is in no rush. Ever so gently he pins more tender kisses along the soft, supple muscles of your inner thighs, his lips embracing your flesh with silent promises that everything he is fixing to do he is going to do for you only because you deserve it.

His pretty girl, his sweet thing, so perfectly made as if just for him; fuck, do you make him want to worship the ground you walk on.

His eyes catch the goosebumps forming under his breath along your body wherever he places his warm mouth and he cannot help but smile at your automatic physical reaction to him. Even in sleep you know his touch and respond to it.

“My sweet girl,” he whispers in his husky morning voice into your calf as he continues up the length of your leg. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, so goddamn beautiful. I’m one lucky bastard and I ain’t eva’ gonna forget it.”

He continues on without hesitation as he slides all the way up until he is right at the threshold of those delicate petals that he wants his mouth on. A moist heat meets his lips as he leans in and places kiss after kiss to them; never has something felt so perfect pressed against him. If Simon could live between your legs permanently, they would never fucking find the man again.

One of those beefy arms he slips under your leg to prop it up and move it even further out of his way so that he has as much space to work as he needs. Restraining himself from going in fast and heavy isn’t easy, but what he wants is to keep his movements relaxed, not crazed and insatiable like on occasions when he’s had a bad day and just needs to smother against you. No, you deserve the full princess treatment from him and that is what you are going to get. Taking the opposite hand not around your thigh, he uses two of those long, thick fingers to delicately spread apart the lips to get at all that lays in waiting inside.

“There she is,” Simon sighs quietly as he immediately spots that sweet little bean that he desperately wants to suck until it’s swollen and throbbing and then even more until you are coming on his face.

He doesn’t go right for the kill first, instead building the anticipation of your body as he kisses that crease between your petals and your thigh, using his balmy breath to stimulate that sensitive area as he switches sides a few times until he feels you twitch and only then does he continue. Gathering up all the spit in his mouth he collects it on his tongue and presses it through your petals to coat the area until your body can take over. As he pushes that thick muscle into you he catches the sound of a quick rush of air escaping through your nose, followed by a sleepy sigh as you stir.

His movements are tender and intimate, circling the nub with the tip of his tongue and slowly using the pad to make love to your clit. You sigh again heavier this time as you begin to squirm in your sleep the more he strokes, your hips rocking faintly over his face as the sound of your fingers clawing at the fitted sheet is caught. Just a little more stimulation and you aren’t going to be able to stay asleep much longer.

Your quiet, breathy moans become more than whispers now and those amber eyes dart back up to your face over the curves of your body, desperate to watch the subtle changes that ripple across your features as he works at bringing you into consciousness by your pleasure alone so he can witness the very moment you wake.

There is a brightness on the other side of your shut eyelids as you slowly slip back into the realm of consciousness, the sound of your own muted groans filling the quiet around you along with something else you cannot quite distinguish and it feels like you are still dreaming. Then it hits you: there is a familiar glowing, warm sensation in the pit of your stomach that amplifies as you continue waking. Your eyes flutter open as the sensation is so intense that you can’t ignore it anymore and as you look around to gather your bearings you notice that there is a blonde-haired head rocking undisturbed between your thighs.

As you focus you realize that he is staring right back at you and the corners of his eyes crinkle as you feel his lips upturn against your petals; you know he’s pleased with himself at what he is doing. He doesn’t stop or try to speak, he only tightens his grip around your thigh that he has propped on his shoulder and continues to service your clit with his tongue while he presses his face in tighter so that the pressure adds to the stimulation.

The sensation is damn near overwhelming now and you realize that he must have been at this for a bit as it feels like you are about to come. Your head falls back heavy against the pillow as your eyes close to allow the feeling to wash over you completely, needy moans unable to be kept under control fill what was once the silence in the room.

That’s when you feel his lips lock around your clit before he sucks down on it and using the very tip of his tongue he twirls around the bud while his fingers come back into play. He finds your entrances and gently shoves his middle finger inside to rub across your G spot and instantly you can feel your calm shatter into pieces. A euphoric spasm shoots through your entire body, making your limbs start to tingle, and you know by the feeling that it is only a few more moments that remain until you are going to spill.

“Simon, shit…gonna come,” you whimper his name as you grind your head into the pillow. To have so much ecstasy hit you all at once overwhelms you with its intensity and leaves you unable to function. You are about to come, that is all your half-asleep brain can process.

With a few more strokes of that strong muscle and a few more flicks of his finger resting inside you, the pressure building at the base of your spine and the warmth gathering in the pit of your stomach reach their threshold and you spill over the edge with a strong jolt that causes your back to arch up off the bed as you cry out. The force of it makes you buck against Simon’s face, but he is ready and digs his fingers in full force until his hold on you is so secure that he isn’t going anywhere as you ride out wave after wave of your orgasm that crashes over you like a tidal wave.

Fuck, what a way to start the day.

In your sleepy, mind-numbed state, you forget just how voracious your military man can be and mistakenly believe that at any moment he is going to emerge from your thighs and come lay beside you…except instead of letting you go, he doesn’t stop. Simon keeps at it, only slowing his pace down to almost nothing, but not pulling away from you. Instead he sneaks quick breaths by tilting his head to the side so that it exposes his nose to the air before he buries it right back in against your now dripping slit.

“Simon, baby,” you call groggily down to him as you try to wriggle free of his grasp; it’s the only thing you can do to persuade him to release you, “you can take it easy. It’s still early, we got all day.”

Just a second, you need to take a break only so long as to catch your breath.

Simon hears your pleas, but it falls on deaf ears as he does not even budge. His plan is already set in motion and you are not nearly exhausted enough for him to even think about stopping yet. This day needs to stay in the forefront of your mind for at least a few weeks after he leaves and be the specific memory that fuels your desperate masterbating while he’s gone and not able to fix the ache.

“Shh…” he hushes mutedly against you. “I only have a few more days with ya and I wanna give ya my full attention. And this mornin’ I wanna take care of ya. I’m gonna take care a ya so fuckin’ good, baby.”

Is there a way to say no to that? If there is, you can’t find it and don’t want to. Even through the overly sensitive nature of your body right now, you don’t want to deny him a thing, not when he says it like that. And to be honest now that he has you at his mercy, his tongue still stroking along the line of your slit before coming back up to circle the nub, you are starting to want it again too.

Tiny beads of sweat like mist cover over your body as the feeling of Simon’s arms slithering up your torso are felt running through the perspiration, greedy hands searching for your chest without being able to see. Grabbing onto as much of your supple breasts as can fit in his large palms he pinches the nipples and rolls them between his thumb and forefinger to make your heated body burn until you whine out loud as they stiffen at his touch.

“Shi-i-it, Simon,” you say, your speech starting to slur together as the mindless haze floods your thoughts from the activity at your chest that radiates in waves of arousal you can feel throb in your clit. Keep sucking, keep playing with my tits, don’t stop, your mind screams.

Everything outside this is like a distant memory; your body is floating and your mind drunk as you exist only in a world made of pure ecstasy. Your hand reaches down around his arms across your torso to the back of his head where you can press and push him in tighter to your pussy and you hear Simon hum a deep, contented sigh at the feeling of you forcing him to suffocate even more.

Tha’s it baby, drown me, he thinks to himself as some feral part of his brain gets activated.

There is movement in the mattress that shakes your body up and down as Simon begins to grind his aching cock against it, trying to use the friction to relieve some of the pressure in the swollen tip. Hearing your beautiful music while being smothered in your pussy is like a religious experience that is akin to having heaven on earth.

Your glistening thighs are vibrating around Simon's ears and as each flick of his tongue finds its mark you are brought closer to climaxing again as you spiral into sensory overload. Over and over he engages with your core, his mouth filling with your sweet juices, the tip of his tongue playing in such a way it feels like he is signing his name on his favorite part of you.

His name is falling from your lips in pathetic whines now as the only word you can recall in the fog of euphoria that you are trapped in. Every inch of you is wrapped in a cold sweat that feels like you’re about to burst into flames, the muscles in your belly contract rigid as the pressure in your spine increases with every stroke.

Right there, it’s right there. You have to come to release the tension.

And that tightness finally snaps just like that and you come again, this time harsher and more intense than the last. Your thighs lock tightly around Simon’s head as you writhe wildly, your body struggling to take all that immense euphoria that fills up every inch of you.

Lengthy seconds pass as you come back down from that high while the sounds of your whimpers act as a gauge to the man crushed in your leg lock how long he will have left to stay suffocating. Once you settle back down again into the pillows and release his head from your hold does he actually emerge fully to sit up for the first time since he went down.

Twice is enough, right? For anyone else it would be, but for Simon you know the man is still craving more. He wipes away the accumulation of cum and spit glinting in the morning light off the hairs on his chin onto the sheet he has picked up, a contented grin filling his beautifully stark features as he sets the damp fabric aside and stalks back up onto the bed like a lion ready to pounce. Stray kisses embrace your lower abdomen as he sets himself into position kneeling between your legs.

“Ya ready for more a’ me, baby?” he asks, though not waiting long enough for an answer before he is gripping into your hips to pull your body down over him until your butt rests on top of his thighs.

You shake your head back and forth. “Too much, t-too much,” you plead, but that isn’t going to do anything and you know it. He is ravenous.

Simon licks his raw, swollen lips. “But you’re takin’ it all so fuckin’ well. Your legs aren’t even shakin’ that bad yet, sweetheart. Said I was gonna take care ‘a ya good and I think that means ya need more.”

You swallow hard, your throat suddenly dry at the thought of going again. “I can’t…I can’t…” you continue, the back of your head digging into the pillow. His fingers run along your inner thighs to send shockwaves of overwhelming ecstasy shooting up your spine to the top of your head and your mouth struggles to form the rest of the words. “Just give me a minute. Please, Si. I don’t think I can go anymore.”

“Yes ya can, beautiful; you’re not done,” he grunts with a sharp inhale as he takes your legs in his grip and lifts them up so that he can rest your calves over his shoulders in a way that will strap you to him. Looking down at you through the gap in your legs he flashes a toothy, mischievous grin that has you shivering with anticipation as the heat from his breath rolls over your stomach. “Come on, sweetheart, I know ya ‘ave a little more in ya. You’re gonna take it all for me, yeah? I want ya ta fuckin’ soak me.”

You’re screwed.

Nodding your head in agreement, he immediately leans his face in until his nose can nuzzle against that overstimulated button and your back harshly arches right off the mattress, hands gripping with iron strength into the bundled up sheets you’ve gathered in your fists. Those long, rough fingers holding up your sides drive deeper into your hips so that you can’t slip away from his face while you buck roughly as the movements of his tongue settle back into a steady rhythm again.

So velvety soft, so warm, so moist, it makes his engorged cock throb hard and can feel it prod into your butt. He is overtaken by a desperate, burning need that floods his veins like wildfire; he wants to bury his face even deeper into you as if he is trying to fuse himself with your body. That feeling in him is unleashed in all its fury and he laps at your cunt faster and harder with each passing minute and your already weakened body is overwhelmed.

“Fuckin’ breathe, sweet thing,” he says in a deep, desperate growl, ripping his face from within you for only long enough to speak the order, as he looks down to see the mixture of pain and pleasure ripple through your brow before he is right back in.

Hot tears are stinging at the rims of your eyes now as your overly sensitive clit is stimulated again, collecting until they finally break over the edge to stream out from the corners and down over your cheeks. Simon stares at them glinting in crystalline drops as they catch the light from the window before they disappear and gather on the pillow behind your head and goddamn are they so beautiful they nearly stop his heart.

This is it, this is the one that will do you in and his mission will finally be accomplished. He is pushing your body to its limit of what it can handle and you take it all so gorgeously. To see his sweet thing so out of her goddamn mind is something he hopes will be ingrained in his memory for the rest of his miserable life.

The heels of your feet dig into the sides of his bare torso until his ribs are stinging under the pinpointed pressure. You don’t know if you have another one in you, but just as the thought burrows into your intoxicated mind you can already feel that gathering warmth in the lower part of your abdomen…except… Something is happening, that feeling of orgasmic pleasure bubbling up in your core is similar, but different.

“Do ya want me ta stop?” he asks with his mouth full, prompted at the feeling.

You whimper pathetically through the tears spilling from the corners of your eyes; as overwhelming as it is, there is no way in hell you can let him stop now. “No,” you say pitifully as you try to push his head back down tighter against you, “don’t, don’t. Please…oh fuck, fuck!!”

“Good girl,” he growls as he dives right back in like he hasn’t already had you twice now.

It’s too much, the pressure is overwhelmingly too intense. A deep sense of release more extreme than any orgasm you’ve ever experienced leads to a gushing sensation from between your legs and you throw your head back as you squeal loud as ever as it just keeps coming. Your body shakes and twitches as everything you have is released onto his face for the last time.

“There ya go,” he praises in between breaths as he strokes you through it, stopping once you lay limply in his grip. “Ride it out for me.”

Legs shaking, chest heaving, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed, Simon lowers you back down from his face and notices that his lap is wet and there is a markedly large wet stain soaking into the sheet under you both now. His face is just as coated and Simon is quick to realize what has happened.

You can barely move at this point, but still turn your face back towards him to be met with a very happy and content man gazing back at you with those fiery auburn eyes as he wipes at the moisture covering face to clean it.

“Goddamn,” he says with a grin as he emerges from the same sheet he used before, “my pretty girl gettin’ so worked up she fuckin’ squirts on my face. Ya do know how ta fuckin’ treat me right, baby.”

You’ve never experienced anything quite like it before and are surprised that you are even able to do it in the first place, but if anyone could make you do it, it would be him. For a split second you feel a little self-conscious at this new development, but the way that Simon looks at you as if you have just hung the stars makes you giggle from the combination of nerves and adrenaline and settle back down.

He crawls back up the bed and drops down exhausted, but completely satisfied beside you and once he settles he reaches out to pull you into his steamy, heated embrace, skin to skin against his chest. His hand cradles the back of your head as he simply gazes into your eyes until your breathing slows and only then does he finally go in to kiss the last part of you he has left to claim.

His lips meet yours softly, but with the entirety of his passion for you. This is his little slice of paradise that he cannot help but feel lucky to have. Out of all the shit he’s had to deal with in his life, he found you and that means something to him. That’s why things like this he will never mind doing, not for you. Not if it’s to keep you satisfied.

“Ya know, ya make it so fuckin’ hard for me ta leave,” Simon sighs quietly against your lips as the backs of his coarse fingers caress the delicate skin of your cheek in featherlike strokes. “I gotta make it just as hard for ya. Cause I’m gonna miss ya like hell. Still got two days left; gonna make ‘em count, sweetheart.”

Oh, he will… he definitely will. He always does.

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moechies · 5 months ago

Note

would you mayhaps mind writing more toji x bunny!hybrid reader... perchance...

pretty pleek 🥺

(ALSO I LOVE YOUR WORKS SM AHHH)

cw ❤︎ bunny is a little weird ‘n loves sniffing toji’s fat bawls ;( don’t make fun of her ! toji makin bunny jealous , throatfuckin !!!

you’re a possessive, insatiable, and messy little thing. and although he does truly love every single one of your animalistic traits, it’s definitely something anybody would find out of the ordinary. not like he minds a bit.

₊˚⊹ ❤︎

toji adores the way you pout, eyes growing bleary when he tells you he needs to leave the home for work. it’s not so much him needing to do his job, but at the mention of a ‘she’ twined into one of his sentences, and now it’s the only thing you find yourself focusing on.

he urges you not to cry, hoisting you onto his lap and pressing your hiccuping self into his warm chest before shushing you gently. but you don’t see the ill-intentioned smirk that spreads across his plum lips as he soothes you from above.

“mhm, it’s an overnight mission, s’i won’t be home till tomorrow, bun.”

“a-are you going to sleep with her ? in the same bed ?” you question meekly, and toji lets out an unassuring hum.

toji loves working you up with his words, and bringing you back down with his cock. it’s so much of a game to him, but not to you.

your poor sensitive heart clenches when he offers no sort of affirmation, leaving your little mind to wonder aimlessly. your chest huffs with both frustration and anger at his pauses, quickly attempting to pull off his chest and away from the mean, mean man.

“i-i hate you !”

but no, he doesn’t let you pull off. he holds you down tight, thighs clad against his meatier ones as his stiff cock prods against your warm cunt. “g-get.. away !” you yelp, turning away to avoid the man from seeing the falling tears that leak from your pretty eyes.

“shh, bunny. c’mere.” he chuckles, pressing your resisting chest against his despite your tried efforts, pressing gentle kisses across your face covered with streaky tears. “‘course ‘m not gonna sleep with her, dumb bunny.” you hiccup, refusing to look into him before plopping your cheek against his chest.

“liar . ‘m gonna kill her.” you whisper.

toji chuckles again, petting your hair and soft, fallen ears, pulling them up high to resemble your usual happy persona with perky ears.

“don’t be so naive, bun. ‘m yours, and yer mines. promise, hm ?”

“p-promise ?”

“i do, i promise.” he speaks, humping his bulge against your chubby cunt. you yelp, reaching out for toji’s arms for support. “c’mere. let me make it up to my bunny for bein’ s’mean.”

❤︎ ₊˚⊹

the sun’s glare peeks through the translucent curtains, waking toji from his slumber. he groans, reaching his arm over expectingly, wanting nothing more but to envelop your soft body into his; just to feel his arm fall against soft sheets instead of your skin.

the sudden throbbing ache in between his legs feels much more prominent than before, his thigh twitching at the unfamiliar feeling.

he cracks an eye open, peeking down, and…

he can’t believe his eyes.

you; your insatiable little self, with his boxers tugged barely below his sack, and your little hand pushing back on the base of his cock. your nose is nuzzled against his fat, dewy balls, taking deep inhales of his musky scent. his vision trails down your other arm, leading his sight to your hand in between your soft thighs, erratically pumping two little digits in your chubby pussy while grinding onto a soft, white pillow all at once.

“m—mister… hnnn,”

your nose twitches incessantly, nuzzling the bud impossibly deep against his manhood, little pink tongue even slipping out to get a taste.

your ears flare out to the side of your body, hairs standing, cottontail twitching because he knows you’re just so close, you’re almost there, and your little pouting lips trying their hardest to keep your mewls quiet.

and finally, you let out a content cry, filthing your tiny fingers in thick, creamy cum. your humping comes to a slow, and you finish the job by leaving a long lick of saliva against toji’s cock for one last moment of wonder.

toji can’t help but laugh, scaring the bunny life out of you. you freeze, but he stops moving. it’s just a dream, right ? there’s no way you woke him up.

and just when you’re about to scurry away, clean up your mess and slip back into the sheets as if nothing every happened, there’s a hard tug on your sensitive little ears, one that drags you back towards your boyfriend’s standing cock where you were just a few seconds ago.

did you really think he wouldn’t notice ? poor bunny.

you squeak, his cock is harshly pressed into your warm gaped, mouth, and—

“what a rude bunny. usin’ me t’get that weeping cunny off without somethin’ in return. y’owe me this, hm ?”

₊˚⊹ ❤︎

“y’r so damn messy.”

toji grumbles, fingers threading through your hair, tugging at your ears.

his thighs are covered in your sticky slobber, strings of saliva dripping down his length and falling against his bushy base.

you don’t care. a mess is easy to clean and temporary, but who knows when your owner will leave on a mission, allowing your mouth to be empty for days ?

your cheek bulges with his chub, his pre slipping against the soft flesh of your mouth and leaving a salted flavor against your tongue.

“c’mon, take it deeper.” toji urges, adjusting your little face by your hair so that his pudgy tip lays against your throat.

“bigggg stretch, bunny.” he giggles, watching your eyes widen and hands slap against his meaty thigh when he presses down your unprepared throat, stretching the resistant flesh violently. you gag a multitude of times, mouth leaking uncontrollably as if you’re lubing toji for a smoother process.

“looks like this messy bunny mouth does have some good use f’it, hm ?”

❤︎ ₊˚⊹

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silverskyeline · 3 months ago

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ੈ♡˳ 'snow day' - logan x gn!reader

summary: logan hates the snow, hates that it reminds him of the past. but he soon finds that being with you gives it a whole new meaning. (1.1k) tags: fluffy, angsty cus he thinks about his past, established relationship, you play in the snow, logan realising he's in love with reader, kissing, gender neutral reader, blood mention (in reference to his memories), for the 'snow' prompt for logan promptober, + tagging @alsoprettyinpink - hope you enjoy!

snow. logan hated the snow.

it once held bittersweet memories of home, of those beloved mountains in canada, nestled away from the world. but those memories were tainted long ago. the snow greeted him that day he fled from alkali lake, droplets of crimson liquid dripping from his knuckles into the pure white flakes below, leaving a sickly trail of red behind him.

each winter, he'd wince at the sound of it beneath his boots, each grating crunch serving as a reminder of where he had come from, what had been done to him. reminded him of that frantic prey-like pitter-patter in his chest as he scrambled, alone in the woods.

yes, for years upon years, logan hated the snow.

that was, until you.

logan tries to suppress the blush rising in his cheeks as he observes you by the bedroom window, how you eye the falling flakes with such excitement. a smile tugs on his lips, betraying the signature steely mask he wears. but he can't help it, not when he's around you.

the snow fell overnight, a lot of it to his distaste. logan can't focus on the snow though, not now you're awake. and that smile, he loves it when you're animated like this, when you get that mischievous glint in your eye. he shouldn't be surprised when he sees you bolt for the door.

you're out there in a flash, coat half on, hat sitting precariously on your head, one glove in your hand as you hop in an attempt to pull your other shoe onto your foot. logan watches, mouth half open, yet he can't find himself to scold or call you back inside.

"look at it all!" you yell brightly, turning to face him with a smile that could bring a man to his knees. and it does, regularly.

logan steps towards the door with a sigh, folding his arms firmly and leaning against the doorframe. his eyes drift across the freshly fallen snow, eyeing it with indifference. but it's when he looks at you, the way you're practically glowing with almost contagious excitement, as though you'd never seen snow before in your life. . . logan can't help but smile fondly.

look at you, with your sweet grin and eyes full of wonder, kneeling down to oh-so gently cup a handful of snow in your delicate palms. he notes the careful nature of your actions, always able to admire your softness, how you're everything he's not.

because that's just how logan is, who he is. haunted, chasing ghosts or being chased. an act as simple as playing in the snow isn't so simple. those memories hurt, sure, but he can't let go of them, not again. he's so afraid of losing parts of himself that he holds on to any scrap he can remember, even the parts that make him feel like the animal he's told he is.

he's trying his best, he really is, for you. there's more to life than the past but what if that's all he has in the end? it's normally all he's left with. memories and -

thud.

a cold wet ball of snow hits his shoulder, tearing him from his thoughts as his eyes widen and land on you.

did you just. . . throw a snowball at him?

you're smirking, evilly, compacting another neat little ball into your hands.

"hey," he barks, eyes widening as he points his finger towards you scoldingly, "no, don't you even think about it-"

it's too late though, you're ready to throw before he even finishes his sentence. another ball hits his shoulder and he scoffs, feeling the coolness soak through his white t-shirt and settle against his heated skin.

"you little shit-" logan growls, but there's a clear smirk evident on his face as he barrels out the door after you.

squealing, you turn and begin to run though you know it's futile. but you already got what you wanted, he's having fun.

he's on you in a flash, snatching your hips as he grapples you to the ground with a grunt. you land, turning to face him as you both catch your breath. his hands find your wrists and pin them into the icy ground below as he hovers over you.

logan's panting, his breath puffing out in clouds against the cool air. but you're still smirking. "think that was funny, huh?" he challenges you with a smirk reflected at you.

you give a defiant nod and he chuckles, a low purr that has you smiling. not for long though. he releases one of your wrists to grab a fistful of snow and pushes it into your face. you scream playfully and attempt to escape his grip. "ah, not so tough now, eh?"

"enough enough!" you laugh, muffled by his large hand, "time-out! you win!"

he grins as he dusts the remaining flakes of snow from your features. it gives him time to admire you more closely, his eyes searching yours with a rare vulnerability. he commits this moment to memory - the gentle pink flush of your cheeks and nose as the cold works its way into your skin, the look in your eyes he feels he doesn't deserve, could never deserve.

you look at him like he's everything, like he's not all the things he's seen and done. you look at him, really look at him. and for the first time in a long time, he feels seen, he feels. . . at peace.

logan wants to say something, anything that expresses the depth of his affection for you. but talking has never been his strong suit, instead, he leans down to capture your cold lips against his, his heated presence a stark contrast to your freezing surroundings.

there's no words he could find that would fit the way he feels about you. those three little words echo at the back of his mind, aching to pour from his lips, to be spoken aloud to you, but logan tucks them away for later.

his lips move against yours in a fluid, languid motion, his fingers tilting your chin just slightly as his other hand squeezes around your wrist. pulling back slowly, his eyes flutter open, taking you in once more. gentle flakes of snow fall into his hair and along his shirt, coating him as he shields you from it above. his gaze remains steady, like he can see all those little parts of yourself you try to hide from the world. just like he does.

fuck, he loves you. like really loves you.

". . . you got some snow on you," you smile softly, pulling him from his thoughts with your mild teasing.

the fingers on your chin trace up to your cheek, the backs of his digits tracing a line down your soft skin almost reverently. a smile curls on his lips at your words, but he doesn't mind the snow. not anymore.

because the snow no longer reminds him of what he once had or once lost, it reminds him of what he has. . . right now, here, with you.

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laligraves · 4 months ago

Text

chp.2 - poolside

morning run series

joel miller x fem!reader

[18+] | wc: ~2.7k summary: Your nap is interrupted by Joel. masterlist | AO3

warnings: HBO Joel, TLOU AU, dubious consent (i'm so serious, don't read if it makes you uncomfortable), NSFW, pre/no outbreak, some proofreading (not enough so sorry for mistakes), Joel is a tall and very strong man, older man/college-aged reader, no use of y/n or too many details on reader's appearance, alcohol consumption, pet names, some degradation, breeding kink (yeah), fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie

a/n: i'm still here <3! just busy with real life :( i don't have a huge plan for this series except to make little one shots here and there since i have a lot of fun with these two characters lol. other stuff on the way i promise <3

You left two days after that encounter with Joel Miller. Your head was still spinning and your pussy still sore, but the semester started and you needed to be back on campus.

The first night back in your dorm, you debated throwing out the roses that now sat on your desk. You lasted 10 minutes just looking at them before you were touching yourself to the memory of him. You could still feel the scratch of his beard on your neck and remember the smell of his cologne.

He’d put his phone number in your contact list and you debated calling him. But what would you even say?

You should be mad at Joel for what he did. Yet somehow, he managed to reach into the deepest corners of your mind and fulfill one of your darkest fantasies.

Now, back in town, you can’t help but feel a little excited to see him again. Even if the more sane part of your brain is trying to convince you to slap him across the face if he comes near.

“Hey, lazy girl,” your sister calls out.

“Hey,” you respond softly, not moving from your spot on the lounge chair.

“I’m leaving. Are you sure you’ll be okay?”

“Yeah,” you reply, knowing you’ll probably spend the entire week swimming and sunbathing by the pool.

“I left money on the counter and the keys to my car in case you need it.”

“Okay, mom,” you say sarcastically.

She throws a pool noodle at you and leaves with her friend after that, promising to text you when she reaches her destination. Any other time you’d be disappointed that your sister was leaving for a full week just as you arrived for summer vacation, but she’s been working so much that she deserves a trip.

The stress from the semester leaves your body with each lap around the crisp pool and the warm sun. You go back into the house to make yourself a tequila soda and make your way back out to the chairs underneath the canopy.

A sudden thought pops into your head as you look around the empty backyard. The fences are tall enough and the gate leading to the backyard is locked. Your sister doesn’t have cameras that face this side of the house yet, so there’s really no reason for you to be so nervous.

You’ve never sunbathed in the nude, there’s just never been an opportunity for it. But now, with the house empty and the tequila coursing through your veins, it would be the perfect time to do so.

Before the courage leaves you, you slip off the strings of the bikini and spread out on the lounge chair.

“Absolutely nothing to worry about,” you whisper.

You eventually doze off, moving around until you’re once again face down. A text message from your sister lights up your screen, but at this point you’ve fallen asleep and don’t pay any mind to it.

I forgot to tell you that Joel Miller from down the block is stopping by. He’s going to plant the roses Susan wants, but needs to take a look first. Help him with whatever he needs. Tell him thank you!

You start to dream of Joel massaging sunscreen on your back, trailing his hands over your sides until they land on the soft, plump flesh of your ass.

His hands massage and spread your cheeks open, presenting your asshole and pussy for his eyes. Joel lands a glob of spit right on your little winking star and you flinch slightly.

“It’s okay, babydoll,” he coos.

The tip of his finger circles your asshole just a bit, enough for you to shiver from the sensation.

His fingers trail down to your pussy where he slowly teases a finger up and down your slit, gathering the wetness.

“Joel,” you whimper.

You push back on his hand, overcome with need.

Joel laughs at your desperate attempts to fuck yourself on his hand and moves your thigh to the side, giving him the perfect view of your cunt.

Before you have a chance to complain, he spreads you open and runs his tongue through your folds. Your hands grip the towel and you almost scream in surprise.

At the scrape of his teeth on your inner thigh and the scratch of his beard on your skin, you begin to wake. This isn’t a dream.

“What–”

“‘bout time you woke up,” Joel growls. “Dreamin’ about me, babydoll?”

You lift your head, slightly delirious, still grinding back on his face.

“Joel, whatthefuck–” you whisper, words slurred from sleep.

He tongues your entrance and swipes a finger over your clit, a movement that has you almost seeing stars. Joel ignores your pleas for him to wait, choosing instead to push two large fingers into your pussy. You choke down on your words at the stretch, still confused.

“Can barely fit my fingers in this sweet cunt,” Joel says.

“Wait–” you whimper, “fuck, wait.”

With his fingers still in your pussy, he moves up to lie partially on top of you. He bites your shoulder, neck, runs the tip of his tongue over the shell of your ear.

“No waiting, babydoll. Gotta stretch this tiny hole,”

Vulgar. He’s so nasty with his words, still, your pussy beats with its own heartbeat.

“Joel–”

“All this time waitin’ for you to call me,” Joel hums into your ear, “just used me for my cock, didn’t you? Little slut.”

“No, I didn’t. I–”

“I knock you up?”

You give a tiny, jerky shake of your head, no, unable to form words.

“Guess we’ll have to try again, yeah?” he murmurs in your ear. “Gonna’ fill up this pussy.”

��No—“

You mean to say it with conviction. But your voice wavers, and you cum right into the palm of his hand, soaking him.

You grind down on his hand and bite into the towel to muffle your screams.

“Good girl,” Joel groans, “just love makin’ a mess, don’t cha’?”

Your hands slowly let go of the towel and your body becomes limp. Joel stands from the chair and you hear the clatter of his belt and the soft rustle of his clothes landing on the ground.

Your nap being interrupted by Joel is not something you were expecting. In fact, what is he doing here?

“Joel, what are you–”

His hands reach for your hips and he’s flipping you over on your back, making room for himself between your thighs.

“Needa look at your pretty face and pretty tits while I fuck ‘ya.”

“We can’t–”

Joel’s calloused fingers pinch your hard-tipped nipples and as if your body is already conditioned for him, you push up right into his hands.

“Fuckin’ gorgeous,” Joel groans.

Before you know what’s happening, Joel leans down to drag his tongue over each peak. He bites, leaving only a hint of pain and shushing your needy whines.

He grinds down between your open thighs, covering his cock in your slick. You moan and writhe on the lounge chair, twisting your hips with each bump of his mushroom head right on your swollen button.

“Joel, please,” you beg.

But you’re not quite sure what you’re begging for. The sane part of your brain tells you to put an end to this, to send Joel far away from you. But then he sucks your nipple into his mouth and your mind goes blank.

Joel keeps biting, sucking, lapping at your tits until you feel the familiar sensation in your lower belly. As if sensing another orgasm, either from your moans or the way you're grinding up on his cock, Joel stops, placing a soft kiss on each nipple before leaning back.

“I needed to taste those tits before I fuck ya’,” Joel rasps.

You tremble beneath him, laying there in a sweaty heap. Joel’s face is slightly flushed and his chest rises with each ragged breath he takes.

Fuck, he’s handsome. Salt and pepper hair, creases around his eyes, a hooked nose and a huge cock make him the most attractive man you’ve ever seen.

The second he releases your hands, you drag your fingers down his hairy chest and over his soft belly. He’s hard and soft, muscular from working outside but with a belly that you want to lay your head on.

He moves your hand away, linking his fingers through one of yours and uses his other hand to bump the tip of his length at your entrance. You try, in a small voice that’s just about surrendered to the lust swirling in your head, to stop Joel, suddenly remembering that this is not your house, but your sister’s.

“Joel, my sister is inside–”

He tsks in disappointment. “She’s gone for the week,” he interrupts, swirling the tip of his cock on your clit, “don’t lie to me, babydoll.”

Your mouth opens to ask how exactly he knows that, but Joel takes that moment to slide right in. A high-pitched squeal claws its way out of your mouth at the stretch of his cock.

Joel groans, sounding almost pained. His eyes shut and his mouth drops open while you fight to push him off of you. You forgot just how large he was, and even if your cunt is slick and this isn’t the first time, it’s still a little painful.

Joel places your hand above your head, still keeping his fingers linked, and uses his other hand to push up your thigh. His nose brushes yours and he gives you a soft kiss.

He rocks his hips slowly, pushing his tongue into your mouth and matching the pace. You don’t kiss him back, too preoccupied with the cock spearing inside of you and the loss of air in your lungs.

“Too much–”, you mumble, “too much!”

Joel moves his lips down your chin, the tip of his tongue dragging a hot path down your neck. Goosebumps erupt on your skin as you try to catch your breath. Each thrust of his hips make you lightheaded.

“No,” Joel murmurs into your neck, “you can take it, babydoll. Take it like a good girl.”

With your free hand you try to push at his hips, for him to just give you a moment to breathe. Joel quickly takes your other hand and places it above your head, locking both of your wrists in his grasp.

Your tits are in Joel’s face, pushed up by the arch of your back. Joel takes full advantage and runs his tongue over your swollen nipples.

You’re not speaking coherently anymore. Between your pleas for him to slow down, please you whine with each hard thrust into your pussy.

“Fuckin’ greedy,” Joel groans, “pussy keeps suckin’ me right back in.”

“You’re so fucking nasty,” you mumble in half-hearted anger.

But he’s right. Your pussy flutters with each slide of his cock and your thighs bracket his hips, keeping him as close as possible.

The thick head of his cock bumps your womb and you’re almost certain he’s growing bigger inside of you. You can smell him, his cologne and sweat, the scent of a man who spends his time working outside with his hands.

If Joel were any other man, you’d hate the smell. But with him, it’s intoxicating.

The first time together was quick, in his front yard where you were forced to stay quiet and take whatever he gave you. Now, your whimpers are loud and he’s in no rush to finish quickly.

“Gonna breed this little cunt,” Joel slurs, “gonna make you a mommy.”

His hips move faster and tears begin to fall from the corner of your eyes. Joel invades your space and kisses every inch of skin he can reach. Imprints of his teeth and his saliva are left on your neck, tits, and mouth.

“You want that babydoll? Wanna make me a daddy?”

Any other man, especially one who is practically a stranger would make you cringe. But Joel’s breeding kink doesn’t phase you. You fall into the fantasy of him cumming inside of you and giving you a baby.

He pushes his tongue almost down your throat while he fucks you. You kiss him back and suck his tongue on instinct. He whimpers, a sound that makes your pussy tighten in response.

“Jesus–,” Joel groans.

“Joel, please,” you whimper, “m–more, please!”

The chair shakes with each of his thrusts, just about able to hold your combined weight. Joel lets go of your hands and leans back to watch his cock slide into you, seemingly mesmerized at the sight.

Your hands reach for his sweaty chest, arms, caressing his heated skin. Joel pushes your thighs open and you hear every sticky, wet slide of his cock.

He’s suddenly sliding a hand underneath your neck.

“Look, babydoll,” Joel gasps.

You don’t pay him much attention, your eyes barely able to focus on his face.

“C’mon–fuck.”

You lean up on your elbows with the little energy you have left and watch his length, veiny and large, covered in your slick, piston in and out of you.

If it didn’t feel so good, it would be almost scary to look at. Joel, so much larger and stronger than you, somehow able to fit so perfectly inside of you.

You fall back on the lounge chair and Joel places your ankle on his shoulder. He turns his head to nip your soft skin, leaving another imprint of his teeth on your body.

He pushes his thumb inside of your mouth and doesn’t even flinch as you bite down.

“I almost drove down to that college of yours,” he moans, “wanted to drag you outta the dorm and fuck you in the hallway.”

You moan around his thumb, lost in the fantasy of big, broad Joel dragging you by the hair and fucking you out in the open, in front of everyone to see.

His words are slurred at this point. But he's so drunk on pure lust that he can’t help himself but keep talking.

“Wanted to show everyone who owns this slut pussy.”

The way he speaks to you should make you angry, but you pussy only flutters and squeezes as he calls you his little slut.

He removes his thumb from your mouth and gently slaps your cheek before swiping his spit-covered thumb over your clit.

He swipes over your swollen bud, once, twice, using your spit and slick that now covers both of your lower bodies.

Your orgasm tears through you, washing over you in warm waves of bliss.

Joel keeps fucking you, moving faster until his hips piston and you're being used as a toy while your orgasm courses through your body.

He lays on top of you, keeping your thrashing and whimpering body bracketed onto the chair. Joel’s moans grow loud in your ear and you know he’s close.

“Not inside–” you whimper, “don’t cum–” your words not having any real meaning behind them except to add to your fantasy.

“Fuckin’ mine, my little cunt,” Joel snaps, “gonna cum in my babydoll–”

He swells impossibly larger inside of you and then you feel it, the hot splash of cum. Ropes and ropes fill your cunt and he grinds his cock into you, buries his head in your neck and groans your name over and over again.

Your body, still recovering from your orgasm from only a few moments ago, trembles once more. The warmth of his cum painting your womb shakes another one out of you.

You’re not sure how long it lasts. Joel continues to whisper in your ear about how fuckin’ sweet you are and how you have the tiniest cunt ever, babydoll while his cock fills you with cum.

Joel continues to lay on top of you and while he’s larger in every sense of the way, his weight is comforting. The setting sun is blocked by the canopy which you're grateful for because you don’t want him to move.

“How are ya’ feeling?” Joel asks.

You’ve almost fallen asleep at this point.

“Full… and sore,” you whisper.

“Maybe this time I’ll actually knock you up,” Joel whispers, placing a kiss on your forehead.

You roll your eyes and push him off of you.

“Not going to happen, old man. I’m on birth control. And we just met!"

“Shame,” he sighs dramatically. “How about I grill us some steaks?”

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #dark joel miller #dark fic

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zevrra · 8 days ago

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[—𝐄𝐔𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀٠࣪⭑꩜.ᐟ]

synop: you and vik have a little too much to drink and decide it’s a perfect night to appreciate jayce and everything he does.

wc: 1.8k

includes: gn!reader, smüt, mdni, 21(+), established relationship, jayvik x reader, oräl (m receiving), jayce is pathetic, 3some, reader & vik top jayce, jayce is just really obedient tbh, lil bit of edging, mentions of drinking/being drunk

extra(s): part 2 coming soon… >:3

oh you should not have had that last drink. or the last two.

jayce had invited you and viktor to one of the council parties he regularly attended alone but this time he had begged for you both to join him. which ended up with just you and viktor standing off in the corner, away from the crowds, chugging their frilly and expensive alcohol, while jayce mingled about; doing his regular golden boy activities. and when he finally made it back to the two of you after his schmoozing, you and viktor were both giggling, drunk messes.

jayce knew better about how things would end with both of you drunk. so he had said his goodbyes before dragging the two of you out of the venue the second upon finding you, heading in the direction of home. but when you had made one too many stops, demanding to touch every animal you came across; while viktor argued with no one, refusing to budge, about some scientific thing you couldn’t distinguish, jayce had had enough and unceremoniously picked you both up and actually carried your asses all the way home, over his shoulder.

when jayce finally got you both home, he takes you both straight to the bedroom. he sits you down on the bed and tells you not to move; he was going to get you both some much needed water.

“ugh, jayce is just so…” you mutter, watching the large man leave the bedroom and disappear down the hall.

“charming? perfect?” viktor chimes in as he sits on the edge of the bed where he had been put down by jayce, hand brushing through his brown hair.

you chuckle alongside vik, nodding your head in agreement. “mhm, all of the above but he should relaaaax tonight.” you respond falling back onto the large bed with a poof. the sheets were comforting and cool, if it had been any other night you might’ve just fallen asleep right then and there but you refused to do so; not tonight.

you gasp with the idea tumbling through the fog in your drunken brain, sitting up quickly next to vik. “i know what we should do!” you exclaim before leaning over to whisper your plan in vik’s ear.

when jayce returns to the bedroom he’s holding two glasses of water as promised, standing right in front of you and viktor before handing a cup to you and the other to viktor. you share a look with vik, the two of you trying to stifle a few knowing giggles while bringing the cup to your lips. you take a few much needed sips of water before by “accident” the cup wobbles, spilling water down the front of your outfit.

“oh noooo…” you sigh as jayce gently takes the cup away from your grasp in fear of you spilling anything else, setting it down on a nearby table. “guess you’ll just have to take it off for me.” you hum, lifting your arms up into the air.

jayce rolls his eyes, as if he didn’t know what you were trying to do, but does as you tell him too anyway. his fingers gently grab your top and he lifts it with ease over your head. “okay, okay. you two need to rest now.”

“jayce…you’re always so kind and always take good care of us.” you hum as your fingers trail along the hem of jayce’s pants, digging gently into the fabric and giving it a stiff tug.

“so let us return that favor.” viktor adds with his own devious smile.

jayce upon realizing the hint the two of you have dropped, blushes a brilliant bright red; even to the tips of his ears. he slides a hand over his mouth in an attempt to hide his embarrassment, or maybe it’s his excitement, as he mulls over the idea. “how do you two have so much energy…” he finally mumbles, glancing between the two of you with his pretty hazel eyes, having already made up his mind.

viktor follows your hand and together, somehow, you manage to unbuckle jayce’s pants. he shrugs them off to make it a little easier for the two of you to continue. you find yourself running a hand up his thigh, sliding it along his warm skin, before moving a hand to squeeze the front of his boxers. viktor kisses along your shoulder as his own hand follows along yours, pressing right up against the front of his pants, tangling with your own fingers. jayce sighs at the welcoming touch as he watches the scene unfold before him. and while a little voice in the back of his head tells him that maybe this isn’t the best idea for his drunk lovers; the growing need in his lower half wins him over in the end. as if there was any competition between the two in the first place.

it doesn’t take long before jayce is breathless and fully hard. his chest flushed red to match his face while you and vik fall into a nice, rhythmic pace of groping the front of his boxers until he’s practically begging for the two of you to; ‘quit teasing’.

the drunk duo share a laugh as your hand finds itself running up along the edge of jay’s lower abdomen, following along the muscle he bears like a sailor following a map. relishing in the way jayce sucks in a sharp breath as your fingers move down his happy trail before hooking around the edge of his underwear. and with vik’s help, you manage to strip jayce of his boxers; finally.

and by god does the sight of jayce’s hard cock sober you up real fast. your mouth waters at the sight as your fingers slowly wrap around his shaft and you give him a slow tug. you hum sweetly at the low groan jayce makes, licking your lips at the sight of his flushed face. you lean forward to press a kiss into his tip, trailing your lips down along his shaft while giving him another stroke.

“you’re too damn tall…” vik grumbles, annoyed with the fact that if he wanted to help he might end up on his knees; and there was no way he was going to do that.

you couldn’t blame him, you didn’t want to get on your knees either.

“i agree. go lay down, pretty boy.” you instruct as you retrieve your hand to gesture somewhere behind you.

jayce rolls his eyes at the silly demand but he’s going to do it anyway. he, almost shyly, shuffles to the top of the bed; where he lays down, settling back against the countless of pillows. you and viktor crawl your way up to his side, descending upon him like wild, starving animals. where viktor takes his right while you take his left, hands grasping at his thighs, parting his legs to fit you both. one of vik’s hands wraps around the base of jayce’s cock before his thin fingers move up onto his tip. while vik begins to jerk jayce off, you kiss along jayce’s thighs and stomach. planting kisses all over his lower half that you could reach, teasing him as vik’s hand moves swiftly along his shaft. jayce groans, biting his bottom lip as vik uses his fingers to draw out any precum he can from jayce’s head. he uses a mix of precum and spit to slick the entirety of his shaft.

you push whatever hair you can out of the way before your lips find the tip of his awaiting cock. you suck gently on his head, vik’s hand continues to work on stroking up where he can before meeting your lips; until he replaces his fingers with his own tongue. you tease the tip of jayce’s cock with your tongue, pressing it flat against the underside of his head, loving the way the big boy sucks in a sharp breath in the midst of his pleasure. you slip your mouth of his head as viktor’s lips meet yours. you kiss him drunkenly over jayce’s throbbing cock, his tongue slipping between your lips. your tongue clashes with vik’s for a sweet moment before you both untangle just to slip jayce’s cock between your locked lips.

now you both work effortlessly in pleasing jayce. tongues clashing against the tip, pressing hot kisses into his shaft, sharing jayce like a snack before you slip him back into the warmth of your mouth. jayce groans as he places a hand gently against your head as you return to sucking him off, encouraging you to take more of him into your mouth and you do as he wants. slipping your lips further down onto his shaft, as far as you can, until your lips pop off of him once more; where viktor replaces your mouth with his own.

now you two take turns sucking jayce off until he’s a whining mess. “mmph fuck!” jayce cries as he throws his head back.

a high pitched groan slips past his lips with every breath he takes, brows furrowed as he tries his hardest to concentrate on not coming. his toes curl and you can feel his thighs tense up everytime your lips wrap around him, pull off, and vik slips his mouth back onto his cock. never giving jayce truly a moment to rest. the next time vik pops off, you return to the meal, and take jayce all the way into your mouth. he fills your mouth entirely, hitting damn near the back of your throat and your jaw begins to burn with the stretch.

jayce sucks in a sharp breath as you take him deep into your throat, grabbing any hair he can and gripping it gently as the sweetest whines tumble from his lips. “feels‘so good baby.”

and for a moment, you think that maybe you could continue forever drawing every noise you possibly could out of jayce until the sudden need between your own thighs grows to be too much.

you slip your mouth off of his cock, licking your puffy lips. you sneak a hand between your thighs to press against your soaking wet core. “can’t take it anymore jay…” you groan.

viktor chuckles at your desperation, as if he’s in any better shape than you are with his stiff cock straining against his pants. “i can’t take much more either.” viktor finally admits after you gave him a sarcastic look with a lifted eyebrow.

jayce, who is still flushed red, panting, hanging on the edge of his orgasm, and slightly dazed; curls up one of his fingers and motions for you to come to him. “c’mere baby.” he mutters with a fluttering gaze. forgetting his own orgasm as he wants nothing more than to please both you and viktor. as if it was his life’s purpose to make you both feel incredible.

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dumbandfunn · 8 months ago

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how cowboy!rafe and spoiled!reader met

it was a usual friday night in the local bar, the few regular rowdy ranchers and the occasional couple passing through just to grab a drink for their journey. it was nothing new. not until the door swung open more aggressively than usual and low and behold you stood in your pretty white sundress, mascara stained under eyes and demanding somebody to tell you “where the hell you were.” rafe had been on high alert the minute he lay his eyes on you, telling his usual drinking crowd to shut up while he took a sip of the whiskey he had been clinging to the entire night. you looked so helpless, fragile, rambling to the bar tender who seemed to not care about anything but how low the cut on your dress was. his eyes were trailing from where you had perched yourself back to the pervy wandering heads from the countless men who had all fallen silent at the chaos you had created from nothing. “are you even listening to me,” you pout, lip still wobbling whilst you slammed a hand down against the wooden counter. “i need somebody to help me, im lost and—” you sniffle.

an older man sitting across from you had piped up with an “ain’t nobody gon’ help you in these parts little lady, not with that attitude,” and that only made you cry harder. “but i’m lost,” you huff out, your tears quick to turn to the sweetest angry pout rafe had probably ever seen as you turn to the few people who were only watching in amusement, oh how they hated pretentious city girls. rafe’s eyebrows were raised, maybe it was then, as you started to bicker with a rancher twice your size that he needed to know more about you. and why the hell a girl like you was in a place like this in the first place. you left with a pretty loud bratty scream after nobody showed any interest in helping you, the distant laughs of the scene you’d caused echoing behind you as you sniffled back your tears and kicked at the car that had put you in the unfortunate situation in the first place. it wasn’t like rafe to follow, especially after someone like you, not that he came across anyone like that much in the first place. a clearly spoiled, city princess. maybe it was just the little white dress you were wearing, maybe he was just as pervy as the rest. he just couldn’t leave a little helpless thing like you to your own devices in a place he knew too well. or maybe he just needed you the second his pants got a little tighter when you were leaning across the bar a few minutes prior.

but less than two seconds after your tantrum he was hot on your heels, waving off the whistles that followed when the doors swung behind him. “so y’need help?”

a knight in shining armour, just a minute too late, it was tantrum city now after not getting your way.

“not from any of you anymore,” you spat out, folding your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at the young man who took a small step closer, taking his hat off and raising both hands up in defense, “well, you didn’t choose the best place to come cryin’ for help, alright, s’all i’ll say doll.” “—so y’gonna tell me what happened or you just gon’ sit here cryin’ all night,” he mutters out. you frown up at him, clearly in a conflict about standing your ground or getting out of the hell your car had broken down in. maybe your stubbornness had gotten the better of you, how you turned your nose up at him and quickly looked away, only for a hand to land firmly on your jaw a minute later, squishing your cheeks and staring you down with those stern blue eyes. “i told you this not the place to come cryin’ for help, s’tell me whats wrong before i go back inside and leave you here all on your own, hm? you want that?”

you shook your head almost immediately, eyes widened and lips parted. nobody had spoken to you like that in your entire life. and the way your eyebrows creased and your lip started to vibrate again, rafe knew he had you right where he wanted you. “my car broke down, can you fix it” you whisper.

“they don’t teach you manners in the city?”

you managed to squeak out a please, just as his free hand reached to brush a few stray hairs out of your face, licking his thumb and swiping the clumps of mascara from under your eyes. “now that wasn’t so hard was it doll?” and you shook your head again, nervous and chewing down on your bottom lip. he really did have you right then and there, someone who could handle your tantrums and someone who could knock the attitude from your lungs with something as simple as an eyebrow raise.

everyone was shocked to see you curled under rafe’s arm the following friday in his usual corner of the same bar, feet swinging and dazed. nobody would dare say a bad word about you again.

#🐆#idk how i feel about this oop #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #bratty! reader

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thorsenmark · 1 year ago

Video

flickr

Exploring Autumn in Lithia Park by Mark Stevens Via Flickr: While walking around and taking in views of fallen leaves in Lithia Park in Ashland Oregon. My thinking in composing this image was to get down low with my iPhone and angle it such that I created a sweeping view across the carpet of fallen leaves on this grassy field.

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irisposts · 3 months ago

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Bloodlines

summary | daemond needs to marry and you're at the top of his list.

pairing | daemond targaryen x (f)cousin!reader

wordcount | 1k

warnings | 18+, MINORS DNI!, very light smut

edited.

You never expected your cousin to be here with you on your island of Valyria, much less dining at your table and feasting on your food. You watch as he takes another forkful, his plate nearly empty. He wipes his mouth with a cloth.

You barely touch your meal. The room feels small and intimate despite its grandeur. Heavy stone walls adorned with ancient Valyrian tapestries tell tales of dragons and conquest. While a large chandelier made of dragon bone casts a warm, golden glow across the table. The open doors allow a gentle breeze to drift in from the beach, the sound of waves crashing against the shore tightening the knot in your stomach.

You glance back at Daemon. He hasn’t changed much, though his silver-white hair is now cut short. The last time you saw him, it had fallen past his shoulders, but you find yourself liking this look more. It frames his sharp features, and the dangerous glint in his eyes.

Daemon is dressed in deep, shadowy leathers, perfectly tailored to his lean form. You watch the silver clasps and embroidered dragons shimmer subtly in the low light.

Your own attire feels too revealing under his gaze. The soft, flowing fabric of your gown clings to you, draping in ways that accentuate every curve. Deep hues of blue and green—house colors—wrap around you like a second skin. The slight chill of the evening makes your exposed shoulders prickle beneath his watchful eyes.

“Is there something on your mind?” Daemon’s voice cuts through the air. Casual as he leans back in his chair, swirling his wine. “Cousin?”

You push your plate outward. Your attendant immediately steps forward to clear it.

“Leave us,” you command, your voice steady. The servant quickly departs, leaving only the two of you.

You tilt your head, studying him for a moment, memories swirling. “It’s been quite some time since I last saw you.”

“Three, four years,” he replies with a lazy shrug, “give or take.”

You look away, a warmth growing across your cheeks. “Hm.” You lean back slightly, your fingers brushing against the smooth wood of the table. “You haven’t changed at all.”

Daemon’s eyes sharpen, trailing over you in a way that makes the air you breathe feel heavier. “You have.”

A heavy silence settles in. The moment stretching out as his gaze lingers over you.

“All grown up now,” he muses, his voice low, almost teasing. He takes another sip of his wine, his eyes never leaving yours.

You chew your lip for a moment, holding back your retort. “You didn’t come here just to visit after four years. A Valyrian steel dagger, no less. A fine gift, even for you.”

Daemon chuckles, the sound rich. “Can’t a man visit his family without suspicion?”

“You?” You raise an eyebrow, the corners of your lips pulling into a wry smile. “Never.”

His amusement deepens as he stands, his movements fluid, every step deliberate. He paces slowly around the table, fingers gliding across its surface. As he walks, his gaze briefly flicks upward to the ceiling. There lingering, is a painting of Valaryian lovers entwined beneath dragon wings.

“You always did see through the masks people wear. I admired that about you.”

He stops in front of you, his hand lifting as if to touch your chin, but you tilt your head away.

Your voice is steady as you speak. “What do you want, Daemon?”

He lowers his hand, though the smile doesn’t fade. “I must marry.”

A small grin tugs at your lips. “I’ve heard the rumors about you and Rhaenyra. If they’re true, why not her?”

Daemon’s smirk widens, amusement flickering in his eyes as he looks back at the ceiling. “Rumors,” he says softly, “are often more fun than the truth.”

His eyes lock onto yours, sharper now. “But you and I both know what strengthens Valyria.”

“Keeping the bloodline pure?” you offer, your voice firm but tinged with curiosity.

His silence answers you.

“Hm.” The sound escapes your lips as you push your chair back and rise. Standing so close, you feel the heat radiating from him, his breath fanning your face.

Your hand presses against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath his armor-like clothing. His hand finds your waist, gripping you with a possessive firmness. “What if I have eyes for another?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper-- the challenge clear.

Daemon’s dark chuckle sends shivers down your spine as he leans in close, his breath brushing against your ear. “Vezof rȳbagon skoros iā rūmu zirȳ rōvon,” he whispers in Valyrian, his voice like silk and steel combined.

Don’t forget what I did to you four years ago.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his lips almost touching yours, his eyes burning with the same fire you’ve tried to suppress for years.

Your heart pounds as you feel the weight of his words. You remember how he deflowered you—rocking into you like a piston, kissing your lips, biting at your skin—setting your body on fire. The memory fades.

You meet his gaze head-on, your lips parting as you murmur in Valyrian, “Nyke gīmigon lo ao gīmigon…”

I could never forget.

His eyes darken, the grip on your waist tightening. Daemon’s other hand finds the curve of your neck, his touch slow and deliberate, gliding down to the material of your sleeve. With a smooth motion, he slides it off your shoulder, your bare skin to the cool air.

Your eyes flicker from his lips back to his intense gaze, the air between you electric. You feel the steady rhythm between your thighs quicken as his fingers slide down from your chest. Daemon hitches up the material of your gown. His fingers make their way between your thighs. The pads of his fingertips brush against you and you fall forward onto his shoulder.

You breathe harshly. His fingers are cool and should be foreign. But the way they sink into you, you know it’s all too familiar. You let out a moan as he stills.

The hand on your waist moves up to your shoulder and then to your chin. He holds you, bringing your face to look at him.

“Nyke jaelā ao.”

I want you.

You let out a soft moan as his fingers spread inside you. “Ērīninna nyke.”

Then take me.

Without hesitation, he closes the distance. His lips capture yours in a kiss that ignites every spark between you, consuming you both in a fire that’s been smoldering for far too long.

#daemon targaryen #daemon x reader #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #house of the dragon #hotd smut #house of the dragon smut

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rafesplaymate · 20 days ago

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Introducing …

Pimp!Rafe Cameron x Vixen!Reader

♱ ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ navigation. ♱ ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ masterlist

summary: The life of a cold-hearted Pimp and his man-eating Vixen. A libertine and debauchee, both completely sybaritic and in the same line of work. Two people who are one of the same with desires of luxury, wealth, sex and complete uninhibited hedonism.

warnings: prostitution / escorting. smut. substance use. power imbalances. dark themes / adult content.

a/n: yes ik irl pimps are terrible people (i mean it’s rafe) but just hear me out …

⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ ♱ ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁

Pimp!Rafe who makes his own version of the Playboy Mansion at Tannyhill. Tired of the stark emptiness that filled the mansion and looking into new business ventures. Quickly recruiting girls and buying the properties across Tannyhill to house his girls. Throwing parties and quickly building clientele through word of mouth to only those he deemed worthy.

Pimp!Rafe who hires mostly pogues who are looking to make a higher income and leave their lifestyles behind. Though he has a bit of kook girls who are more than willing for the fun of it and to up their income as well. He’s picky about who he hires, only desiring the top tier. Having rejected many girls with a stoic expression and flick of his wrist while he mutters a ‘you can go.’ Their eyes filled with tears as they run down the long driveway in embarrassment. Rafe is too cold-hearted to care.

Pimp!Rafe who makes his girls call him ‘master’ and wear gold chokers with the initial ‘R’ around their throats. Reminding his clientele, them and the island who they belonged to.

Pimp!Rafe who never gets shut down because the department is paid off by his hand and some of his best clientele. Indulging in the services his girls provide and protecting his reputation and image.

Pimp!Rafe who protects his girls vehemently and makes sure they’re always well taken care of and protected. Only putting them in place when they disrespect him. He often finds himself tangled within their various limbs on the ‘alaskin king’ he bought to accommodate his girls. His high-desire for sex satisfied completely.

Pimp!Rafe who is basically a libertine, a Don Juan if you will. He never falls for one of his girls and strictly views them as a form of satisfying his needs and supplying his income. His heart too cold to care and his only desire is to feed and satiate his hedonistic lifestyle. Setting rules and clarifying that everything is purely transactional from the start. Although most respect his desires, there are those who’ve tried and failed. So many times, he’s needed to kick girls out and rotate new ones in when they’ve fallen in love with him. Not willing to muddle or mess up his lucrative business.

Pimp!Rafe who only allows high-end clientele and ensures the safety and best interest of his girls by enforcing his excessive power. A sneer automatically setting on his face when someone from the ‘cut’ tries to reel in on his girls.

Pimp!Rafe who is adored by all his girls and excessively spoiled by genuine acts of affectionate to thank him. They do everything for him. Keeping him satisfied for taking care of them so well and suppling them with such great income. How could they not?

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Vixen!Reader who use to be a high end escort in Los Angeles. Specifically around Bel Air, Beverly Hills or Hollywood Hills. The highest playing clientele came from those areas. But WeHo night life was her preference.

Vixen!Reader whose staples are leather, latex, stripper heals, louboutins or stilettos. Chrome Hearts a staple jewelry alongside her valued diamonds and white gold. Versace’s Crystal Noir or Diors Hypnotic Poison always spritzed on her. Leaving a trail of intoxicating seductiveness everywhere she goes. Her fierce gaze always accentuated by either wispy lashes and glitter or a smokey eye that makes her look every bit like the vixen she is. Shimmery nude or pale pink glosses always slathered on her enticing lips.

Vixen!Reader who is a complete party girl. Hedonism runs in her veins. The life of the party, she always captures all eyes on her every where she goes and was the princess of LA’s nightlife. She’s practically a nymphomaniac; so unashamed about sex and nudity. It’s an art form in her eyes. A free spirit of pure shameless sexuality that would leave any conservative ready to throw holy water at her.

Vixen!Reader who is a total maneater. Only focused on her money, looks and internal desire to live the life she wants. She never falls for her clients and cuts them off when they fall for her. She doesn’t date, refusing to be tied down. She loves to mess around and have fun. She’s young, immensely sexy, desirable, making good money. She refuses to waste her best years committed.

Vixen!Reader is a local celebrity; her name infamous across the city and sought out all the time by wealthy men/women or industry celebrities. She’s been the muse of many musicians, writers and artist. Leaving them writing music or poetry about her fierce sexuality, hedonistic lifestyle and immaculate beauty or painting/photographing her gorgeous figure nude. Offered various modeling contracted she’s refused out of desire to keep the raunchy lifestyle she lives private. Satisfied with the influx of cash she makes; never settling for anything less than a rack and even that’s pushing it. She knows her worth. Other girls in the city trying to emulate her style and energy; always failing. She’s unmatched.

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Vixen!Reader eventually leaves LA. Tired of the clientele and negative stagnancy she started to feel in the city. Needing change, looking for new opportunities, people, experiences and more dirty cash. That’s how she finds herself moving to North Carolina, specifically ‘Kildare.’ Wanting to be around a beach environment she always enjoyed in California; yet so far away.

Vixen!Reader who realizes her savings were quickly running low, looking for work that paid her the income she became accustomed too. Hearing about Tannyhill by one of Rafe’s girls who was looking to scout her after being in complete awe seeing her at the market; knowing she’d make a perfect addition to their universe and please Master. Her desire for luxury and hedonism quickly making her accept.

Vixen!Reader who shows up to Tannyhill for the first time showing off her gorgeous figure in a tight black latex dress that barely goes over her ass. Her stunning legs accentuated by black “highness” louboutins; fierce gaze and beautiful eyes accentuated by a black smokey eye. Her sinful lips slathered in shimmery pale pink gloss and body slathered in oil/glitter; making her flawless complexion look so enticing. Vintage Chrome Hearts hanging off her delicate throat, around her wrist and decorating her pretty hands.

Vixen!Reader who walks into Tannyhill with an aura about her that exudes raw sex. Completely enigmatic and formidable, strutting across to the house entrance while other party-goers watch in awe. Ready to assert her reputation the way she did so all over Los Angeles. Quickly and easily succeeding.

Pimp!Rafe who feels that the world has stopped and his peripheral vision gets blurry the moment she steps into his line of sight. Making his body burn with the intense desire to own and dominate. She’s like nothing he’s ever seen on the island, a bewitching woman who he knew from the first glance was meant to be someone to him.

Vixen!Reader who struts up to Pimp!Rafe after being invited to the ‘VIP’ area by the girl recruiting her. Strutting in with a seductive sway of her hips, domineering steps and her gaze burning into his own. Gorgeous lips quirked into a small smirk as she stood confidently in front of him. Hands on both hips while she cocks one to the side. Letting Rafe run his gaze over her unabashedly as his legs spread wider and he adjust himself in his seat.

Pimp!Rafe who pats his lap and motions her over with a flick of his fingers. Draping his arms over the edge of the seat he sat on. Both of them holding eye contact with smirks on their lips and she walked over slowly. Some of the other girls strewn around watching in anticipation, gossiping, doing lines or shots. An energy of pure hedonism.

Vixen!Reader who plops herself with ease in Rafe’s lap, immediately looping her arm around his neck and legs crossing as she automatically runs her manicured nails over his buzzed head. Pimp!Rafe who purrs in satisfaction and shuts his eyes before looking back into her own. Undeniable chemistry and tension immediately fluttering around the area as they stared into each other’s eyes.

Pimp!Rafe who gives Vixen!Reader a soft peck on her lips. With a pinch of her chin, and a smirk on his lips he tells her, “welcome to your new home.” Satisfied with the way her eyes light up and the quick approval. Though she knew before she even came she would secure her position.

Vixen!Reader who rises to the top of the Tannyhill hierarchy very quickly, asserting dominance over the other girls as a former professional. Pleasing Rafe immensely with the huge influx of new clientele and dirty cash she was bringing him in. Not only praised by Rafe but adored by the other girls who view her as powerhouse. Quickly deeming her as the head of the group.

Pimp!Rafe who calls her his “little minx.” A nickname only reserved for her. She’s the only one he’s deemed allowed to call him ‘sir,’ or by his name. Quickly falling for her by the day, yet refusing to let his stone-cold heart thaw. Reminding himself what she was to him and where her position stands. Little did he know she was doing the exact same.

Vixen!Reader and Pimp!Rafe who constantly flirt and banter. Their energies matching each other’s own, chemistry constantly sizzling. Eventually the banter turns into late night talks that last for hours. Soft caresses and intense eye contact. Toeing the line they’ve both drawn. Building a bond they both promised to themselves wouldn’t happen in their line of work.

Vixen!Reader who is the only girl that doesn’t sleep with Rafe. She didn’t do it back in Los Angeles and she refuses to do it now. Her pride and professionalism overtaking her immense desire to fuck on him. Struggling to hold back when they’re inches from each other. She knows once she does her desire for him will increase; too afraid to admit how badly she wants him.

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Vixen!Reader and Pimp!Rafe who realize they’re one of the same. Desires for luxury, wealth, and freedom. Cold-hearted and shut off; domineering and formidable. Dark tendencies and raunchy lifestyles that could never be understood outside of their bond. Confessing the darkest depths of themselves to each other.

Pimp!Rafe who very quickly falls down a dark hole of infatuation, lust, possessiveness and burning desire for Vixen!Reader. His mind convincing him she was made for him, that she found her way here just to be his. That his decisions have led up to them meeting.

Vixen!Reader who feels exactly the same way. the two quickly growing possessive over one another. Toeing the line they refuse to cross, yearning for each other with fiery passion.

Pimp!Rafe who begins limiting Vixen!Reader’s clientele, assuring its for her safety rather than admit his body burns with blazing jealousy anytime he sees her near another man. She rolls her eyes at the ‘safety’’ excuse. He also stops sleeping with the other girls, preferring to spend his nights locked up in his home office to talk for hours with her instead.

Pimp!Rafe who gets Vixen!Reader a custom white-gold, diamond R.C choker so everyone knows exactly who she belongs too. The difference in design and material from the other girls a physical representation of her status and power in the little universe they live in.

Pimp!Rafe and Vixen!Reader who finally crack and cut into the suffocating tension they’ve built around them. Frantic kisses and confessions of infatuation. Hours of fucking in his office. On the leather couch, on his seat. Over the desk, on top of the desk. Against the window, against the wall. Taking each other apart in the little haven they’ve deemed the office as.

Pimp!Rafe who tells Vixen!Reader she’s his in a way the other girls aren’t. Refusing to admit yet what she is to him. Cutting her clientele to a complete halt and ‘promoting’ her as ‘mistress’ of Tannyhill. Guiding, protecting and taking care of the girls.

Pimp!Rafe who quickly moves Vixen!Reader into Tannyhill from the girls house. Making sure it was empty with no work and parties for a week. Sending away his staff and informing the girls to stay at the property he bought across from Tannyhill where they live.

Vixen!Reader who walked around Tannyhill naked most of the time, during that week. Opting for garters, crotchless panties, thigh-high stockings and either one of her various ‘pleaser’ platforms or ‘highness’ louboutins. Leaving Rafe hard constantly and pounding into her every moment with any chance he got.

Pimp!Rafe and Vixen!Reader who spend the entire week fucking each other’s brains out. Their matching staminas and dark desires being played out over every inch of Tannyhill. Even the luxurious garden. By the end of it their bodies are covered in marks. Both sticky from sweat, saliva and arousal. Rafe’s cum dripping out of both her abused holes and onto the soaked bedsheets of the master bedroom. Both quickly realizing they would never find the type of sex they have between them with anyone else.

Pimp!Rafe and Vixen!Reader who have a knack for substances. Snorting lines over each others bodies, popping pills into each others mouths, pouring champagne or cherry flavored vodka down each others throats. Rolling and blazing after their hours long fuck seshes and falling asleep tangled in each others arms with lines on the night stand, a roach in the ashtray and empty bottles strewn around with their clothes from their hasty undress they haven’t bothered to pick up. Too infatuated with one another.

Pimp!Rafe and Vixen!Reader who lay in bed panting after the latest round. Finally exhausted by the end of the week and tangled in each other’s arms while they mindlessly traced circles on each other’s skin. Soft kisses and sweet nothings whispered in each other’s ears along with soft caresses. Both quickly realizing they belong with one another. It must have been fate that brought them together; practically made for each other and fitting puzzle pieces.

Pimp!Rafe who finally after months of built up tension and a week of passionate love-making; tells Vixen!Reader she’s his woman. His mistress of the manor. She will rule alongside him, the empire he’s built for himself now hers as well. Admitting that his desire for her excels the physical attraction he feels for her. That the connection they have is a taste of hedonistic paradise he’s always yearned for.

Vixen!Reader who’s old desire to never be chained to someone now turned into a desire to only be chained to him. Confessing that never in her life did she think she would find herself in this position, let alone allowing him to be hers. Admitting that she feels that she’s finally found what she had come looking for. She won’t ever let it go.

Pimp!Rafe and Vixen!Reader who’s week ended with the beginning of an intense, passionate, volatile and all consuming relationship. A twisted love story that was only at its start …

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a/n: phew! that was lowkey long … i am so excited to put out this AU while i work on stepfather!rafe. i hope you all enjoy and any feedback is deeply appreciated. also …yall liking this new format i’m trying? i decided to stop being lazy with my work lol. much love, as always!

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chrissv4mp · 1 month ago

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𐙚 STAY QUIET (scenario 1)

she hummed lowly into your ear, eyes closed, chin resting on your bare shoulder. her soft, plump lips left a trail of kisses from your shoulder to just below your earlobe, the vibrations from her humming coursing right through your veins. you shivered, hands gripping at her thighs, a thin layer of cloth preventing you from fully feeling her warmth and making you whine out loud.

"nah-uh," billie shook her head, nipping softly at your earlobe in a silent warning. her fingers stroked between your folds so delicately, the tips of her digits gathering the wetness that collected there. you let your head fall back against her own shoulder, eyes barely open, lips parted slightly. a hand wrapped around your throat slowly, gently, cold rings making you shiver, "y'like that, don't you?" she murmurs, licking her lips once she pulled away from your skin.

you couldn't do anything but nod according to the rules she set whenever you began this torturous game she played every night of her tour. which brought you back to the way she squeezed your throat, making you gasp for air before she loosened her grip. her sexy chuckle echoed in your mind as her strokes on your pussy began to speed up, resulting in your moans becoming harder and harder to hold back. you quivered beneath her hand, breathing in and out roughly.

"y'did so good at the show, mama..." you swallowed harshly, throat dry and pussy only growing wetter with each passing second, "where'd my good girl go?" she scolds softly, voice so gentle and calming—like she didn't have you in the most panicked state right now. in a lame attempt to speak, you let out a breathy moan, walls clenching around nothing as your nails dig into the thin fabric of her shorts. billie just shook her head again, squeezing your throat once more, "guess she's not here 'nymore."

your hips bucked against her ring-clad fingers, huffing as quietly as you could as you tried to get her to slip into you. but she just wouldn't. the hand on your neck only squeezed tighter in another warning, a cheeky smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she landed a soft slap on your pussy, "stop that, will ya?" it wasn't an ask, she was demanding you, and you knew. but you were so close to release, and your hips seemed to have a mind of their own in that moment, "plea—bill, please." you breathe, free hand coming up to grip at her hair as you inched closer to that edge.

"shut that pretty 'lil mouth of yours, then..." she went silent, pretending to forget what she was gonna say. she always stalled, and you hated it. she releases her grip on your neck, groaning roughly as you gave her hair a tug. her hat had fallen in the process of you gripping at her brunette strands, trapped in between the wall and couch of her tour bus, "maybe—jus' maybe you'll get it." she promised, lips coming back down to your shoulder as she continued to speak, "gotta stay quiet f'me, that's all. 'ts not that hard."

her touch leaves for what feels like an eternity as she takes her rings off one by one, her pace painfully slow to watch. you fight back a whine as you hear her rings clink against each other on the small table beside your bodies, but when her fingers are back, it feels impossible not to make a sound. she slowly urges three of her fingers into your tight pussy at once, raising her eyebrows and dragging out her words, "thereee ya go." the stretch brings tears to your eyes, a quiet cry escaping your throat as you feel the pads of her fingers brush against your warm, tight walls.

it only takes a few seconds for billie to go wild, her chest tightening with the urge to just completely destroy your pussy. so, she gives into it, her fingers beginning to pound into you at a fast pace, groaning quietly at the wet, sloshing sound that fills the entire bus. you choke on your moans as she curls all three of her digits, eyes feeling like they'd roll to the back of your head as she litters kisses all across your neck and shoulder, "can't even follow simple instructions." she tsks, shaking her head in disapproval as she feels your walls clenching around her, "such a noisy little thing."

𐙚 amiyaps — never getting over the fact that i took this picture??? HELLO???

𐙚 tags — @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @afteraftercare @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @hopelessfawn @zayluvss @meliciousmel13

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lumiambrose · 3 months ago

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✰ i've fallen addicted to your love

happy birthday sae

featuring: sae itoshi x f!reader

tags: smut, blowjobs, semi public, praise, teeny tiny breeding kink, spanking

wc: 800 - art from wyyy418 on x

you and sae sit side by side comfortably on the couch of your hotel balcony, taking in the beautiful sunset shimmering across the ocean and painting the coast of spain in hues of pink and orange. your fingers are intertwined as you both finally escape from the nosy world outside.

a sigh escapes your lips as you lean back, feeling the cool breeze brush against your thighs. "happy birthday, my love."

any remnants of sae’s bad mood melt away in an instance, looking at you with nothing short of pure affection. "thank you, amor. siempre me alegras el día."

you scoot closer, finally deciding to give him his last birthday present. your hand trails down his arm until it reaches his thigh. "i’m not done yet, love. got one last gift for you."

he gives you a puzzled look as you drop to your knees, caressing his thighs and growing length, revealing your intentions. after teasing the area around his ache enough, you free him from his slacks. earning a quiet gasp from him before taking his erection into your mouth, savouring the taste as though you’ve been deprived of your favourite food. his breath hitches as your lips make contact with him, his fingers running through your hair as you take him inch by inch, sucking on his large cock.

“shit, angel. missed those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.” he whispers, leaning down to meet your ears. he lets out small groans and huffs as you bob your head around his length, taking as much of him as your throat can let you. clearly, he’s enjoying it, and it only pushes you more. you trace one hand up his thigh, leaving the spot you marked with your nails to play with his balls. massaging them with one hand while the other continues to dig crescent marks into this muscular thigh.

“you feel so good, angel. taking my cock so well,” he encourages before lightly pushing you down, making you take more of his cock. your eyes water at the feeling of being so full, but you’re desperate to make him feel good. although, to your surprise, he pulls you off. your mouth leaving his cock with a wet pop.

“up, angel. gonna cum in that sweet cunt,” he helps you up before pulling you into a deep kiss, your tongues playfully teasing each other while he guides you to the edge of the balcony, until you’re pressed against the railing.

“turn around.” he coos, “you can do that for me. right, angel?” although he doesn’t let you react as he gently spins you around, so that you’re resting your weight on the balcony. he makes quick work of your clothes, pushing your skirt and panties to the side. for a moment, he simply admires you, bent over, half naked, and ready to be used by him, making him even more desperate to fuck you.

“you’re already soaked, amor. so fucking wet for me,” he says as he prods your entrance with his fingers, gathering some of the slick escaping from you before tasting it. “fucking divine,” he murmurs to himself.

it doesn’t take him long until he’s gripping your hips and rubbing his cock along your folds before entering you. it’s an agonisingly slow pace, making you feel every inch he’s giving you. despite already soaked, the sensation of being stretched out burns nonetheless, but you refuse to complain. eager for sae to continue, you nugde against him slightly, moving yourself on his cock.

“so eager for my cock? how sweet of you, angel,” with that, he starts thrusting inside of you. his one hand holds you firm against the balcony while he uses his other to pull you into another kiss, this one messier, sloppier, even biting down on his lip slightly.

thank god he’s keeping your mouth busy, else you’re certain that everyone on the streets below, would hear the way you moan for him. you let out muffled whimpers at the feeling of his cock inside of you, every thrust aimed as deep as possible. it doesn’t take long until he’s hitting that spot inside of you that makes you see stars, eyes rolling back as you break from the kiss to stabilise yourself, moans getting louder by the second.

with his free hand, he makes his way to your ass, kneading the flesh and landing harsh slaps here and there, enjoying the way it shakes at his every touch. “it’s like this pussy is made for me,” he tells you. “isn’t that right?” you can only nod in response, afraid that replying will result in moans instead.

“i’m close, angel. you gonna cum with me?” he’s against your ear now, sending shivers down your spine. “you gonna cream my cock while i fuck a baby inside of you, hm?” his words make you clench around him, ultimately sending you both closer. it doesn’t take long until he’s spilling his load deep inside of you, making your insides warm. you also reach your orgasm, body shaking as you milk him for all he’s worth, panting and out of breath.

he pulls out, coming down from his high, watching as his cum drips out of you. “thank you, amor,” he pulls you close, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead as though you were a delicate snowflake. “i love you.”

⤷ siempre me alegras el día -> you always make my day

taglist: @pixelcafe-network

#ambrose.fics #blue lock x reader #blue lock #sae itoshi #Sae Itoshi x reader #Sae x reader #Sae itoshi x reader smut #Sae x reader smut #bllk smut #Blue lock x reader smut #bllk x reader #bllk headcanons #blue lock smut #bllk x reader smut #itoshi sae #sae itoshi smut

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macfrog · 5 months ago

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fucking diabolical | one shot

i don't have a semblance of an explanation for this one. i've fallen off the ledge and i'm never coming back. if you know, you fucking know.

pairing: billy butcher x f!reader summary: you move in across the street. butcher notices. warnings: unspecified age gap, infidelity, unprotected car sex, creampie, daddy kink, breeding kink (one mention of pregnancy), softdom! & soft!billy...? weird. word count: 3.6k

main masterlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🖤

Six days. He made it six days.

He’s not this weak a man, is he? Is he really? To stand by the living room window, whiskey in hand, white-knuckle grip threatening to shatter the glass. Five minutes. Only five more minutes.

To watch your figure float between rooms, flicking lamps on and flitting blinds closed. A patchwork façade, now become an almost nightly routine. Polite little home on a polite little street, on this polite little evening.

You’ll leave the radio on in the hallway. Your neighbors will never know.

He’s not so weak to feel himself harden at the mere thought: your body bending backwards under his, his every move stealing the sweetest of sighs. Leaden weight in his pants, painful and premature and at the same time – a fucking relief, honestly.

Relief that he’s still alive, somewhere inside himself. Relief that he can feel something other than burning rage, simmering resentment. Relief that he can still spot a right fucking sort when he sees one.

Billy’s not a weak man.

You just might be testing his willpower, is all.

It’s been a month since you moved in. Since you first crossed paths across the street. He was walking Terror, cooling off after another spat with the missus. Never fucking listens, does she, old boy? Never. I ain’t tryna cause a fight, but she makes it so bloody –

Hang about. Who’s this?

You looked too good to be true. Boosting yourself up into the back of the moving truck, dipping into the shadows for the one, two, three steps it took him to reach the curb. He could feel the ricochet of his pulse through every vein in his body.

You resurfaced in the light, nudging a brown box towards the ledge with the heel of your shoe. Skimpy little shorts, Billy noted, your skin glistening with sweat and sun.

When you hopped back down, your breasts – Jesus fuck, your breasts – they bounced so perfectly into place. Full and round and fucking delicious beneath that tank top.

Billy loves a challenge, doesn’t he? Fly little bugger. Didn’t matter to him when your little twat of a husband came scurrying out, scooped up the box and, following your direction, staggered like some pathetic drunkard back inside.

Didn’t matter to him, and didn’t seem like it mattered to you. At least, not when you caught sight of your new neighbor and took one looping glance – from raveled boots to rugged beard, lingering on the Hawaiian shirt in the middle – and then smiled.

Smiled like you knew you were about to ruin his fucking life.

Hi.

Hello, love. Moving day, is it?

You gestured to your feet, then to the Tetris block boxes in the back of the truck. Bit of a shitshow so far.

Looks like it. Need a hand?

He could’ve sworn you were considering it, the way you paused. The way your hands crossed to cover the ring on your third finger.

You rolled your tongue from one cheek to the other. Thanks, you decided, I think we’re good.

And then, just as Billy made to cross the street, you cast another line.

Nice neighborhood?

His mouth twisted into that sick smirk of his. Muscle memory. He had you ensnared already. He glanced over his shoulder. Hm?

I’m not from around here. Is it a nice neighborhood?

He staggered back over, stuffed his hands in his pockets. ‘s alright, yeah. Few wronguns, couple curtain-twitchers.

Terror sniffed a trail between the boxes at your feet. His leash wrapped around your bare legs.

You knelt to cup his blocky head, scratch the folds of fur between his ears. Curtain-twitchers, huh? you echoed to the pup. And which category does your daddy fall into?

Billy’s fist locked around the leash. He could already feel it: the rush of blood heading somewhere he knew it fucking shouldn’t.

Neither, he replied. Yet.

You looked up at him. All doe-eyed and innocent. Younger than him by a decent amount, so it looked. A light in your eyes and a fullness in your cheeks that gave you away instantly.

You looked brand new. Lovely little thing; a baby crease between your brows as you ruffled the dog’s snowy fur and stood up, mirroring Billy’s suspicious smirk.

So fucking sweet. So sweet, in fact, that Billy wanted to chew you up and spit you back out. Wanted to see how much of a mess he could make of such a pretty girl.

He’s always known just how to ruin a good thing, hasn’t he?

Well, you cleared your throat, it was nice to meet you, uh…

Butcher, he said, holding a paw of a hand out. Billy Butcher.

Billy Butcher, you echoed. I look forward to seeing where we both turn out.

Forty-five seconds still on the clock, he gives in.

Gives in to the need thrumming through his bones, so electric he can’t stand still. Gives in to his fluttering heart and the way it falters with each sighting of your silhouette.

Gives in to the fucking brick in his pants, the painful ache and the feeling like bruising each time it ruts against his jeans.

Can’t help himself, can he? He’s already bursting at the seams. He hasn’t touched you in – Christ, Billy, it’s only been eighteen hours – but fuck it.

You’re the only good thing about his day. The only relief he gets, the only time he feels like himself.

The only thing Billy has to look forward to these days, is pushing his cock inside someone else’s wife.

Ain’t that a fucking thing? Fuuuckin’ hell.

He thinks, swaggering down his front steps, that he should feel bad about it. He almost wishes he could.

He thinks, watching you mirror him across the street – collar up, head down, the way he’d taught you the first night – that he should call it quits. Tonight, last night, last week. This affair should never have started in the first place.

He thinks, as he sighs into his car and you strut off in the opposite direction, that he should let you go. Tell you to turn around, head back home. Back to your husband, back to your life – unblemished by Billy’s messy, poisoned hands.

He should let you go back to that girl he met on the side of the road. Ring on her finger, dimple in her cheek. A twinkle of innocence as bright as sunlight in her eye.

But you pause at the end of the street. Billy catches it in his rearview. You pause, twirl on your heel, and stare back at the Cadillac. Your arms come up – something of a signal, a prompt. He should have the engine running by now. He should be on his way to the meeting spot.

Billy thinks, if he’s half the man he’s spent his entire life trying to be, that he owes it to himself not to turn the key. To get back out of the car, and never watch for the shadow of you ever again.

He knows he’s not half the man he should be. And why the fuck would he be, anyway? He ain’t exactly got a decent lineup of role models to choose from. A seed planted in shit can grow into as tall a tree as it wants – the roots will always be steeped in shit.

Sod it.

The engine rumbles to life, and so does he.

Billy pulls the Cadillac in to the usual spot. A couple blocks from your street, the place is perpetually deserted – save for a couple stumbling teenagers last week and a meddling raccoon the week before.

You’re loitering beneath the cover of some trees, avoiding the splotches of amber streetlight. Hands in your pockets; shoulders bunched. Almost a month of sneaking around and still, each time, he almost mistakes you for some other ghost on the street.

The door whips open. You sink into the passenger seat.

“Don’t tell me you almost got cold feet.”

His eyebrows quirk. “That sound like me?”

You bite down on a cheeky grin. That dimple of yours makes itself at home. “Thought you were about to bail on me. Car trouble? Couldn’t get it to start?”

“Hm,” Billy pinches your chin, “That don’t sound like me either.”

He could swear he feels you nuzzle into his grasp; could swear your gaze softens just a little. But it’s dark outside, even darker in here, and he’d do well to remember exactly who you are, and exactly who he is.

Selfish, careless, irresponsible. A right cunt. Broken from the inside out, a black chasm which splits the four chambers of his heart. It’s in his bones, in his blood.

The kind of man who flirts with the neighbor, who meets her in a backstreet and fucks her in his car. The kind of man who goes home afterwards and showers her perfume from his skin; who plays with himself until he’s hard all over again just from the memory.

The kind of man whose wife reckons the new couple look happy. Honeymoon phase, she’ll say, and then drift off into some other corner of the house.

Billy lets his hand drop. “Come on, then,” he says, putting the car into park. “Ain’t got all night.”

He’s never bored of it.

Never bored of the smutty smirk on your face, or the way you skip around to the backseat. Never bored of that first touch, the heat on his skin that meets your frozen fingertips. Never bored of the way you melt into him, the need pouring from your body as soon as Billy pulls you into his lap.

There’s a thrill to it. A kind of ecstasy he hasn’t felt in years. For the sliver of night that you share together, he can be exactly who he wants to be.

It just so happens to be who you want, too.

He lifts the tee from your shoulders, teeth dragging between your collarbones. Across red lace and strap, pausing only to suck a delicate mark into the plush of your chest.

You giggle, throwing your head back. “No proof,” you pull his jaw away, “He’ll see that, you know he will.”

Billy nips at your bottom lip. “Tell ‘im he left it.”

“Ha,” you roll your eyes, “Good one.”

He toys with the lace on your hips, slipping a hand between your legs. “Poor baby,” he pouts, “Ain’t got no one to touch her at home.”

Your spine curls when he cups your mound. Tongue pokes at the corner of your mouth, eyes flood black; a wild animal eyeing her next meal.

He swirls his middle finger, teasing your clit over your underwear. “Make a mess in ‘em, sweetheart, just for me.”

“They’re already a mess for you,” you grit, nails digging into his shoulders. You grind into his palm, hips stuttering. “They’re – always – a mess – for you.”

He can feel it – the damp material at his fingertips, the warm wet on the inside of your thighs. You need this as much as he does. And that’s all this is, right? Helping each other out, being neighborly. A favor asked and answered inside of an hour.

Lend me some milk, water my houseplants. Fuck me until I can’t fucking think straight.

His cock strains against his jeans. Any longer and he’ll be making a mess in his own fucking underwear.

He kisses along the ridge of your jaw, sliding a hand up your spine to unhook your bra.

You shake the lingerie from your body, fucking perfect tits jiggling between your arms. Bare on top of him now – nothing but a scrap of lace over your hips and a sinful smile on your lips.

You fiddle with the buttons on his shirt, writhing still with the pressure he’s quickly building between your hips. Grinding into him, hungrier and hungrier.

“Stupid fucking shirt,” you groan, ripping the floral pattern from his shoulders. Your hands find the plain of his chest; solid, dappled with dark hair, chain catching the streetlight and reflecting it in your eyes.

Billy laughs to himself. He pulls his hand from between your legs, sucks the tease of slick from his fingers, and guides your lips down to his. “Come here.”

No, he’s not a weak man. He’s been a fighter his entire life. Fists that have broken bone, words that have crumbled foes to dust. If you ain’t already a cunt, the world will make a cunt of you, yeah?

But here, now, you – undoing his belt, tossing it to the footwell; pushing the denim from his hips. You, giggling when he bucks you up to rid himself of his underwear, and your head hits the roof of the car.

You, taking his stiff cock in both hands, biting down on a moan when you feel the weight of him –

You might just be the thing that breaks him.

He thrusts up into your grip. “Drivin’ me off my head, you are,” he groans, burying his face in your chest when you squeeze.

“Good,” you reply, spitting into your palm. “’s what you do to me, anyway.”

You drag warm saliva over his length, slipping lower to massage his balls. So big and heavy in your hand, though Billy knows you’re being gentle.

Everything about you is gentle. Even while breaking your most solemn vow – the bullshit promises you made to that cunt at the altar – you’re so sweet with it. A favor, sure – but you want to make him feel good. You still want to pretend it’s real.

Only – there’s not enough time. Your husband will be home any minute, Billy’s wife has probably already noticed he’s gone. There are only so many excuses that an hour can allow, and the longer he spends admiring the way you caress his ball sack, the more of those excuses are written off.

For now, the back of his Cadillac behind a dilapidated Burger King will have to do.

“Alright,” Billy croaks, pausing your movements with a light hand on your wrist. “Gotta let me fuck you now, sweetheart. Been waiting all day for it, haven’t I?”

You chew on your lip, guiding his cock to your entrance.

His tip notches at your hole, so warm and snug just for him. He can feel how tight you still are, even after a month of him. Still not used to the size, the way he punches the air straight out of your lungs with that first thrust.

He wonders if you’re still having sex with your husband. Stupid question, maybe, but he does. He wonders whether, when the bloke slips inside, you feel yourself aching around him. Feel your cunt needing more, needing him.

The thought drains his head of any blood and sends it straight to his dick. He leans back against the headrest and pulls your cunt down over him.

The sound you make is almost enough to send him over already. A tiny squeak, a yelp which shatters into the most beautiful sound he’s heard all day. Need. Need and want, laced up and tied into the form of a pretty girl on his cock.

Need and want, which happens to push the word over her tongue just as he goes to ask for it.

“Daddy,” you whine, head rolling across Billy’s shoulder. Your hips are still, split open on top of him as your cunt adjusts to the intrusion.

“There she is,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, smirking. “’s my girl, let Daddy open her up a little.”

So fucking tight, it almost hurts. He can’t remember the last time he was inside someone who gripped him this much. Like you don’t want him to move at all, just stay put between your walls and let you call the shots.

“That feel okay, darlin’?” Billy asks, helping you straighten.

You look down to where your bodies connect – the dark trail of hair on his groin meeting yours. The twist of lace, underwear warped to make room for the width of his cock.

You brace yourself with two hands on his stomach, and push up. Only an inch, barely enough for any relief, but when you drop down on him again, you wince.

“She’ll get there,” he says, slipping a hand around the small of your back. He cradles you in the crook of his arm, kisses the hinge of your jaw. “Just gotta give her a little bit a’ time, don’t we?”

“Yeah, Daddy,” you reply, in a bottled voice. You link your own arms around his neck, anchoring yourself to him.

He lifts his hips, gently bucking until your whimpers quieten. Until the crease between your brow smooths, replaced with creases at the corners of your lips. A smile, a satisfied thing – her daddy always makes her feel better, doesn’t he?

Always blurs the edges of her pain. The relief after a long, shitty day; the escape from a long, shitty marriage. The need met; the want fulfilled. The hunger satiated, until eight p.m. the following night when you pull your hood up and go for another one of your walks.

You chant it to him, like with each syllable you’re turning the pain into pleasure. Daddy Daddy Daddy. Each one higher than the last, each one more desperate.

Your walls squeeze around him. You grind down against the thick hair at his base; clit swollen and soaked with your wet and his.

Billy’s eyes roll closed. He slips his fingers through yours, feels the cold brush of your wedding ring on his skin.

A good man would snap out of it. A good man would glance down at the strip of gold around his own finger, and call the whole thing off. Stuff himself back into his pants, drive the both of you home. Never look the road you’re on again, never look at another woman who isn’t his wife.

But his wife’s not here. Hasn’t been here, for longer than Billy would like to admit.

You’re here. Dove of a girl, soft coos from her lips and little fluttering movements. Good girl, right in his lap, begging him to tear her apart.

And thank fuck he’s not a good man.

He grits his teeth, jaw clenching around a pathetic moan. “Daddy’s gonna come, darlin’, gonna fill her right up.”

“Daddy,” you pant, “Daddy, I’m – I’m ovulating, please –”

“Good,” he grunts, slamming in again, “Means you’ll take it all then, won’tcha?”

You slur something of a laugh into his chest. Your thighs clench around his waist, rutting begins to falter. You dig your nails into his shoulders and, with a sobbing moan, you come hard around his cock.

“Oh, my God – Billy,” you gasp, hands grabbing the hair at the base of his skull. You give it a sharp tug and tilt his head skyward.

Billy comes with a guttural moan, a sound that tears from the base of his throat and echoes into your mouth. His cock pulses inside you, emptying into your little cunt.

Nothing has ever felt so fucking right, he realizes, than this cramped backseat. A tight squeeze, all of it – the sweet pinch of your pussy around his cock, the sweat and sex coating the windows in a hazy film.

The stars in his vision spatter, fading into the dull car. He settles back with a sigh.

You giggle, swaying to and fro in his lap. When you slip off, his cock settles heavy and soaked on his groin.

“Hold it,” Billy says, snapping your underwear back into place. “You hold it all in there.”

“Okay,” you smile, wrapping your arms around one of his, “Okay, Daddy.”

He closes his eyes. For a moment, he allows himself to fade out of this stifling backseat and to somewhere fresher, cleaner. Unbroken and untainted. No vows or golden rings suffocating either of you.

For a moment, he could almost believe it.

At his side, he hears the ruffling of denim. The flick of a lighter, once, twice, and then the soft crackling of a cigarette burning. The thick stench of tobacco fills the car.

“You wanna know something?”

You ask it quietly, timidly.

Billy snaps back to the Cadillac. His eyes flutter open. “What?”

You twirl the cig between your fingers, watching the snaking smoke bend and twist. “This is all I have. The only time I feel like I’m above the waves. Everything else is just…fucking…”

“…drowning,” he says.

You hum an agreement and lift the cigarette to his lips. “Isn’t that awful? I mean, we’re fucking awful people, aren’t we?”

Billy takes a long drag. The question fills his lungs, sour as smoke. “Not you,” he says, lifting his chin to exhale over your head. “Not you.”

“Hey,” you tug on his arm, “How come you get to be the cunt, and I don’t?”

He answers with an empty shrug, another cloud of smoke obscuring you from his vision.

“What would we do if you got me pregnant?” you ask, wafting the air.

He scoffs. “You’re askin’ if we’d pretend it was his?”

You shrug. “Sure. Would we?”

He rests his chin on your head. “S’pose we’d have to,” he utters, watching the blur of headlights soar by the parking lot. “You want to admit this is what you’re up to every fuckin’ night?”

“No.”

“No,” he repeats.

“It would be a shitstorm, though,” you snicker. The cherry glows again as you suck on the end.

“Fuckin’ diabolical,” Billy agrees.

#yes partial insp from that billy becca scene can you BLAME ME #billy butcher #the boys #billy butcher x reader #billy butcher smut #fic: fucking diabolical #billy butcher fanfic

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