#but they are too quiet and obedient to have ever voiced against it

[autumnsvixen]

Damaged - part 1

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Azriel x f! reader

When the high lord sent Cassian to Ironcrest to recruit females to train, he was never expecting Cassian to bring something, or someone, back.

Word Count: 2093 Warnings: misogyny, violence, blood, use of knives, physical abuse, this is taking place in an Illyrian war camp so read with caution. I'm serious, it gets pretty dark and violent.

A/N: this is part one of a slow-burn Az fic I have in the works. I know you don’t see much of Az here, but I promise it is coming. And it will be well worth the angst wait.

masterlist || request guidelines

You stood by the training mat, eyes fixed as you were entranced by the male in the ring. His moves were graceful as he handled his sword with a precision you’d only seen in the birds that dive to the nearby lake as they hunt their aquatic prey. He swung towards invisible enemies, cutting them down with ease. As you watched him, you could only wish you could one day carry yourself with the same easy danger as he did. The males in the camp barely spared him a glance, and those who did had looks of disgust and anger on their faces.

Your trance was broken by the harsh sound of your brother’s voice, “Y/N, stop watching that bastard play pretend and get back inside. Shouldn’t you be washing my training leathers?”

Your shoulders stiffened as you moved your eyes from the training ring to the snow-covered ground below you. You mustered out a small, “apologies, I was meant to be fetching water for the wash. I just got distracted.”

He inched closer to you, the smell of sweat and grime pulling a gag from your throat that you swallowed down. His tone was quiet but harsh, “if I ever catch you looking at that brute again, I will show you what a real male can do with a sword.”

Your breath hitched, but you nodded obediently, running off to fetch water from the well on the outskirts of camp.

As you were pulling the bucket back up towards you, you were once again frightened by the sound of a male voice behind you, “I know you were watching me earlier.”

Your heart quickened as you turned, the bucket shaking in your hands, “I didn’t mean to offend you, sir, I apologize.”

The male with the long dark hair smiled softly at you, “no need to apologize. I was actually going to ask if you wanted to train with me tomorrow. You’re the only one here who seems like a worthy mentee.”

With wide eyes, you looked up at him fully, taking in the red glow of his siphons and the rich hazel of his eyes. “I would love that, but I am far too busy with my chores and my brother wouldn’t like it if I were to forego them to train with you.”

He stepped closer to you, a kind softness in his eyes, “If it’s your brother you are worried about, I can ensure you I will protect you from any backlash you might face.”

If only he knew what kind of backlash your brother had been known to give out. You shook your head, “I know that you and your high lord have imposed your laws about female training, but it is still strictly… discouraged in this camp.”

He looked angry at your words, an expression which faded into pity as he took in your trembling form. “If your brother has a problem with you training under his general, I will gladly speak with him. I’m sure we can come to an agreement.”

“All due respect, general, you won’t be the one facing the brunt of his anger.”

He rolled his shoulders back, “then let me teach you how to defend yourself against him. He won’t hurt you while I am here.”

You hesitate, knowing you truly wanted nothing more than to learn how to fight, how to protect yourself against the males who had threatened you throughout your existence. He sees this and continues, “if you decide you want to take me up on my offer, meet me in the training ring 2 hours before dawn. That way, your brother won’t even know you’re gone, and you will still be able to complete your chores.”

With a respectful dip of your head, you breeze past the war general with the bucket still in your hands.

You don’t meet him in the ring the next day, or the following day. Despite the longing you felt to train, you couldn’t overcome the fear of your brother’s anger. It was in the early morning of the third day, as you stood by the dish basin in your family home and watched the war general train through the window, that you decided you would join him. You had only meant to be distracted for a moment, allowing yourself a glimpse of his routine, but you had been entranced once again. Your brother had caught you staring, anger coating his eyes.

With a hot hand, he grabbed your arm and spun you around, the dish falling from your hand and into the tub. His other hand met your throat, squeezing tightly. “What did I say about watching him train, little sister?”

Your eyes were wide with fear as you struggled to breathe, body frozen in terror. Your brother brought the hand not on your throat to your hip, sliding under your shirt so you could feel the cold metal of a blade against your skin.

You tried to speak, to apologize, but the grasp on your neck was too tight to allow any noise to leave your mouth. The sharp sting on your hip brought tears to your eyes as he carved a long line across your stomach. It wasn’t deep enough to seriously wound you, but you knew there would most likely be a scar.

He smiled wickedly down at you, bringing the bloodied knife to your cheek. He swiped it across your skin before leaning close to your ear, hot disgusting breath hitting your skin. “Now be a good little sister and clean yourself up. Then get back to work.”

The grip on your neck disappeared and you gasped for breath, holding onto the edge of the basin behind you for stability. As you regained your composure enough to grab a nearby rag, you made your decision. No matter what, your villainous brother would find a way to hurt you. The only thing you could do for yourself was learn to fight back.

You had hoped that Cassian would be pleased to see you in the early hours of the morning the next day, but you were instead met with a look of concern.

“What happened to your face?”

You shrugged off his question, “you told me you could teach me how to defend myself, right?”

His mouth morphed into a grimace as he took in your week appearance, the inflamed pink mark across your cheek. After a few moments, he nodded, “I hope you’re ready to work.”

You found that, despite the bruises and soreness that had made their home on your body, you enjoyed Cassian’s training. He pushed you enough to help you grow, but not so far that you would regress into the fear that had consumed your entire body throughout your life. He respected your boundaries, and never asked you to explain when you would show up to train with new cuts along your face or arms.

But any fool could tell he was furious about them. You had made it clear you wouldn’t talk about them and that you didn’t want him interfering, and he was too scared that you would stop coming if he did. Out of anger, or because you would be left in a state so poor you’d be unable to train, you both weren’t sure.

One day, the two of you had gotten distracted, and training had lasted just a bit longer than it normally would. As you were heading off the training mat, you caught a glimpse of your brother’s watchful eyes through the window of your cabin. They held an icy fury, and you knew what was to come as soon as you got home. You thought to ask Cassian to accompany you, but knew that if you didn’t face your brother now, it would only be worse later.

To your surprise, your brother said nothing as you carefully entered the house. You watched him warily, as he didn’t even spare a glance in your direction. You quickly changed into your household clothes before starting quietly on your chores, jumping at the sound of the front door slamming shut as your brother left for the day.

The entire day, you were on edge. Chores had taken you less time than normal due to your anxiety quickening your hands. You were on your way to the market to trade the coins your brother earned as a blacksmith for meats and new gloves for him, as he had requested, when you were stopped by three looming figures.

You recognized them as your brothers friends, males who had come around to your home to get drunk with your brother and make gross, degrading comments towards you as you served them. Then, their eyes had been filled with lust and entitlement. Now, they were filled only with rage.

“Your brother said you’ve been training with that bastard general.” One of the males said.

Another spoke, “weak females like you don’t get to train.” He reached out to grab your shoulder, pushing you to the cold, hard ground.

“If you think you’re strong enough to fight like us males, why don’t we test out your skills?” The third one spoke as fear washed over your body. You pushed yourself up to your hands so you were sitting, looking up at them.

The second male’s foot made contact with your side as he kicked you harshly, sending you back to the ground. Though you had been training with Cassian, he had only been helping you build muscle and endurance, not to fight. Not yet.

Another of the males swung his legs on either side of your waist, pinning you underneath him. His hands wrapped around your throat, cutting your oxygen supply off. You struggled underneath him, trying to bring your knees up to harm him, but another of the males stomped on your ankle before you could.

A splintering pain traveled up your leg at the impact, bones cracking underneath his foot. You tried to cry out in pain, but no noise would come out.

The lack of oxygen was causing your vision to go blurry, hands scratching at the male’s to loosen the grip around your throat. He obliged, but you quickly realized it wasn’t from your pleading. His friend passed him a dagger, which he swiftly brought to your neck.

“C’mon little girl, didn’t your bastard teach you anything?” His voice was filled with disgust and anger, his breath reeking of ale. Your heartbeat was a swift and constant thud in your chest, echoing the fear you felt.

A scream left your lips as he plunged the dagger into your chest, just under your collarbone. You could nearly feel the blade scrape the bone as it entered you. You tried to push him off, but the other males placed their feet on your arms, keeping you locked into place. The male on top of you took his free hand to cover your mouth. “Hush, good girls don’t scream.”

Tears poured from your eyes as he removed the bloodied dagger from your chest before swiftly bringing it back down again, this time into your side. You screamed against his hand, the pain overwhelming you.

He continued his ministrations, plunging the blade into your middle, avoiding your heart and lungs narrowly, but not caring about anything else. You lost track of the pain, mind and body going numb as you let the frozen fear take over you.

At some point, it stopped. You would later vaguely recall a flash of red and the sound of men in pain, but in the moment you could barely remember your own name.

A male kneeled over you, concern in his hazel eyes and long hair brushing against your face. You groaned out of instinct, not pain, when he picked you up, your head lolling to rest on his shoulder as he took off.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep on me,” he said harshly to you over the roaring of the wind in your ears. You vaguely recognized that you were flying, a feeling so instinctual yet so unfamiliar to you, despite the large wings on your back.

The next things you remember happened in flashes. A dark male with bright, violet eyes taking hold of your hand, a castle surrounded by balconies and arches, a soft bed and warm hands spreading magic throughout your body, your bones clicking back into place, and a dark figure who seemed to be more shadow than fae.

It was him you thought of as the same darkness that surrounded him filled your vision and you were overtaken by a dreamless sleep.

[cassielsunstone]

He doesn't know >:) The Hylian must know too much, and there will be consequences.

Brandish weapon 🗡

[livelaughlovesubs]

Sucking off a pretty bf with pretty expressions~

(Dom!gn!Reader x sub!male!character)

It didn’t really matter where or why you two would do it, since he’d always listen to you anyway. All because this love-starved little thing’s so eager for any shred of your affection on a daily basis, following you around like a lost animal. That makes him so fun to bully!

Just pin him against the nearest wall or make him sit down wherever possible. Hovering above the ground or spreading his pretty legs while you teasingly tap his bulge. Once, twice, maybe squeeze it a little or blow hot air against it, all to get a reaction out of him. Watch that bulge twitch all excited, so easy to understand compared to his broken words.

Oh, what’s this? He’s already hard for you~ take it a liiiittle further by kissing his clothes sex, looking up at him to see him on the verge of tearing up. Chest heaving as he throws his palm over his mouth. That’s is? He’s already feeling it so strongly? How was he going to handle you? Well, you don’t mind breaking your toy once in a while.

“H-hurry… please.” Look how naive he is, so unknowing. He’s so cute when he starts begging you with a muffled voice, so pretty and whorish when he hesitantly pulls down his pants and underwear with a trembling hand. Gosh, if you were to take it any further, won’t this pathetic little boy cry? Wouldn’t his mind turn to mush already?

And when you finally start teasing his tip, maybe even giving him loooong and intimate licks along his shaft, be prepared to hear the sweetest moans and whimpers ever! The blush on his cheeks are spreading to his ears and chest, and his sensitive dick is leaking so much pre already! You haven’t even began properly.

If you were to bless him with your mouth, he’d first melt due to your touch. The feeling of your hot mouth and wet tongue on his lewd cock is so erotic, so perverted! He can’t control his voice, it’s all leaking out, “ah- ohh, nghh, ahh-UhmM♡♥︎!!”

What a cute but pathetic thing, already screaming ‘cummin’ m’cummin’!!’ When all you did was suck him off a little. This won’t do, it doesn’t matter if you’re in public or not, this is simply too early for it to be fun. Pulling back just to tell him ‘not yet’. Now he’s crying and whining about how you are too cruel, how he desperately needs you :(

Poor boy, guess there’s no other way huh? He’s so helpless in situations like this, he needs your guidance! At this point you’ve taken pity on him and decided to let him cum, cooing at him, praising him, but since you are sucking him off he can only make out quiet humming sounds.

On the other hand, the vibrations of your voice is driving him crazy, it’s adding so much more pleasure to the already overwhelming batch, it’s so intense he was itching to grab your hair and feel more. Luckily he remembered not to, he knew the consequences, he didn’t want to disappoint you.

That sweet and obedient man is now moaning so loudly you can call him ‘your woman’. Head thrown back as he tried to warn you with broken sentences, “cu-mHMmiiinng!! I’m cu-cuuuu cumminnnng! ♡～”

Not long after he’s shooting his thick and disgusting cum into your mouth, squirming and withering. This won’t do though, you didn’t feel like swallowing it on that day. So instead, you commanded him to open his mouth all wide and to stick his tongue out. Yanking on his hair to make it easier, lining your lips adobe his, slowly letting it drip down from the tip of your tongue.

You don’t even have to order him to and he’s already gulped it all done. Such a good boy, right? Your good boy, your very best and most obscene boy toy. Just to make sure, he’d ask, “Did I do good? I hope I pleased you♡”

Your favourites!

[sableseb]

Sacred

Father Charlie Mayhew x f!reader

word count: around 1k I think??

warnings: priest kink, rough blowjob, cum play, takes place in a church

a/n: Hello, all! This is my first story in a long while. I decided to go with the new it boy, Nicholas Chavez🤭 This was just a quick little write and I hope I still got it after being mia. Please let me know what you think!

The rain outside falls in heavy drops, the melodic sound echoing throughout the silent cathedral. This is the only place she can come in her desperate time of need.

It’s not because she felt secure behind the tall, looming walls. Or felt peace while looking at the ornate crosses. It’s because of him. She’s desperate to be near him, to feel his warmth against her skin…to feel his lips against her own. Father Mayhew became her obsession.

There is something off about his priestliness though. Those deep set brown eyes seem too far away. The furrow in his brow is ever prominent even when speaking God’s word. She is positive that he looks her way each time she sits in the front pew.

Old wood creaks beneath meticulous foot falls. She straightens up, ears perked and eyes alert. “What brings you here at this time of night, y/n?”

He has a deep timbre in his voice. The question he asks comes out nonchalantly, as if he didn’t care that the girl before him shook from the cool night air. Or that she even came in at all.

He’s dressed down tonight, only wearing his black dress pants and matching button down shirt. She notices his collar is nowhere to be seen.

“I felt lonely…this was the first place I thought of,” she whispered as a blush crept up her neck.

The priest cracked a grin as he takes in the poor girl sitting in his church. He’s noticed her on multiple occasions when he speaks the sermons. He can sense when she watches him. It makes him feel powerful that someone can give their utmost attention and admiration to him.

Mayhew knows, he’s always known that she has been ripe for the picking. Always knew she’d be the perfect follower. His perfect, obedient lamb.

“Ah,” he said while taking a seat beside her. “There is always comfort in the church, my dear.”

She doesn’t know where this sudden confidence came from. She would never have dreamed of seeking Father Mayhew out intentionally. Let alone muttering the words, “It’s not the church, Father. It’s you.”

Silence. She looks up to find him staring at her with the same deep set eyes she fantasizes about every night. She wants those eyes looking up at her as he pushes his tongue inside her walls. Stretching and licking her until she would arch her back and beg him to slow down because it’s all just too much.

“It’s always been me, hasn’t it,” he smirks.

She shyly nods her head.

“Hm. So, you find yourself coming here for me then? Each week?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Yes. Father.” The words slip into his ears like the softest hymn flowing from a piano. She’s gentle, quiet, and most importantly, needy. He can tell by the way she clenches her thighs and how redness stains her pretty neck.

She can’t catch her breath as he leans into her. His arm comes to rest behind her as he lowers his mouth to her ear. His scent is overwhelming. Soft notes of amber basked in vanilla. He reaches his other hand towards her neck. Tingles rush throughout her body as he carefully traces the skin of her collarbones.

“Would you say you would do anything for me?”

She didn’t hesitate. There was no need. She’s been certain of this since the first time she heard him preach. “Anything.”

That’s all he needs. “I want you to worship me tonight, y/n. Can you do that for me?”

His thumb traces her bottom lip as he awaits her answer.

“I can,” she chokes out.

His body leaves hers and she instantly craves his closeness again. Before the sinking feeling could set in, he carefully grasps her arm, leading her to kneel in front of his sitting form.

Father Mayhew takes off his belt then unbuttons his pants. He can’t help but smile at the girl below him. She is in absolute awe. And he’s not even out of his boxers yet.

“Go ahead, pretty girl. Touch me.”

Her mouth is dry at the site of the priests cock pressed against his gray underwear. His girth is mouth watering. She tentatively places her hand on his clothed erection.

He sucks air between his teeth as she applies pressure. She reminds him of a kitten. Kneading his leaking cock, practically purring at the site of him.

“You’re doing so good, angel.”

She’s eager to please as she gently lays her cheek on his thick thigh in order to watch her hand more closely. She notices a dark spot start to form near the crown of dick. She knows that she’s doing good because Father Mayhew begins to hump her hand while cursing under his breath.

He can’t wait any longer. He needs to feel her mouth on him. He quickly pushes her hand away and pulls his underwear down far enough for his cock to be released. He tangles his long fingers in her hair while guiding his length towards her plump lips.

“You ever sucked dick before, sweetie?”

She pales, embarrassed to tell him the truth.

“C’mon now. It’s not nice to keep secrets from your Father,” he rasps while gentle tapping the leaking head of his cock on her pouting lips.

“I haven’t.”

Mayhew doesn’t know what he’s done in this wretched life to deserve someone as sweet as her, but God is he thankful for it.

“Just when I thought you couldn’t get anymore perfect…treat it like a sucker, baby. Lick and suck. That’s your only job.”

He guides her head down, watching intently as her tongue licks around his tip. He could pathetically cum just from her tongue alone. But, he needed more.

He lowers her head further down his length, moving her head to aid in her bobbing motion. He feels spit start to slide down his shaft and onto his tightening balls.

“Fuck, angel. So fucking good for me.”

Her suction becomes tighter. His hips buck from the pressure and he decides to chase his high. He grabs both sides of her face before pulling her all the way down to his base.

She gags. Over and over again she gags while he thrusts into her mouth. He’s using her face like a toy. There’s a careless abandon with his movements. Her chokes and cries make him grow harder.

She’s trying to fight back, to push herself away from the onslaught. He doesn’t care. Not when his high is so close. Over and over again he slams himself into her tiny mouth as he holds her in place.

He feels his balls tighten as his abdomen seizes. Her whimpers and his moans mix into the candle light surrounding them. Just before he can cum down her throat, he pulls out, painting her face with hot, white ropes instead.

He takes in what he’s created. An innocent girl with big bright eyes completely wrecked. Her tears are still streaming down her face as she tries to take in breathes. Her hair is wild and she’s shaking from the adrenaline coursing through hers.

Leaning towards her, he takes his thumb and collects some of the semen resting on her reddened cheek. He gently draws the sigh of the cross between her eyes.

“You’re mine now…for as long as I please.”

[lemon-berri]

Thinking about doing skincare with Satoru...

You have him laid out on the bed as you straddle his hips. But the atmosphere is soft, and the air smells like fresh hydrangeas and ever so subtle vanilla.

Large cerulean eyes stare curiously up at you. He's quiet for once, watching the way your eyes narrow in concentration as your nimble fingers work some face mask or other on his face.

Satoru Gojo has immaculate skin. Much like everything else about him, he's been blessed with clear skin. It helps that he takes care of it too, the both of you often stand together in front of the bathroom mirror as you cleanse your skin.

But then there's also nights like these. Nights where you come home with some new face mask you found, and it's all he can do to let you try it on him. So he sits there obediently, enjoying the feeling of your touch, the sound of your voice as you tell him how pretty he looks. You run your fingers over his sharp jawline, and watch the way his white eyelashes brush against his cheek. He wonders how he hasn't melted at your warm compliments yet.

It's nights like these that he wishes he could stop time. In all his great power, that is the one thing he cannot do. If he could, he'd stay here a little longer, maybe forever. He'd listen to your sweet voice and let you put whatever product you wanted on his face just as long as he can feel your touch.

And maybe he looks a little ridiculous. Wearing some kind of cat headband to hold his hair back, while a purple mask spreads across his face. The man is absolutely whipped for you. But he doesn't care.

You guys!!! It's my first time posting something I've written on here and I'm super duper nervous. I hope you enjoyed it☆

Thank you so much for reading 🩵

(Not proofread don't @ me if you find any spelling errors I'll go hide in a hole)

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ᴛ ʏ ʀ ᴀ ɴ ᴛ ⸻

Pairing: Yandere HOTD x Targaryen Reader Part 2

Summary: After your mother's death, your life wasn't the same anymore. Everything was changing so fast and you were just watching.

Warning: Y/n herself is a warning.

Notes: English is not my first language. Gifs don't belong to me, credit to the owner. Hope you enjoy!

The air felt cool against her damp skin as she stood in front of the window, watching the distant glow of King's Landing beneath the night sky. Her body was still warm from the bath, the steam lingering in the room as it slowly dissipated, leaving behind the soft scent of lavender and rosewater.

She let her fingers trace the edges of the windowpane, feeling the cold, hard glass beneath her fingertips. It was quiet tonight—eerily so. The usual sounds of the city seemed muted, as if the world outside had gone still, holding its breath.

Her handmaid, Elira, stood behind her, gently brushing through her wet hair. The familiar rhythm of the bristles moving through her locks was soothing, almost meditative. Elira had always been there. Since the very beginning. They were the same age, but Elira had always known her place—quiet, loyal, obedient. Always there, always in the background, never faltering.

"It still hurts, you know... losing her." She spoke softly, her voice almost a whisper, more to herself than to Elira. She stared out into the dark horizon, her eyes distant. "Mother was... everything. The only person who truly knew me."

Elira didn't respond—she never did when it came to such things. She just kept brushing her hair, silent, attentive, like the shadow she had always been.

The ache in her chest intensified, a dull, ever-present throb that threatened to consume her. Who’s going to love me now? Her mother had been everything. The one person who had always been kind, always been gentle. And now, she was gone. The gods, if they even existed, had taken her away. Not just her mother, but her newborn brother as well.

Y/n blinked slowly, her eyes burning. Why did they take them? What kind of gods would do this? Why leave me behind with nothing? She couldn’t understand it, couldn’t process the emptiness that had swallowed her whole since that day. The pain was constant, gnawing at her insides like a beast that wouldn’t stop.

She hadn’t left this room since they told her. She hadn’t gone to the funeral. What would be the point? Rhaenyra had been the one to carry their mother’s body. She could have done that too. She could have honored her mother, but what was the point when she wasn’t even here? She was dead. Dead.

Y/n closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself sink into the sensation of the brush moving through her hair. "I loved her. I always did... I was kind to her, wasn't I?" The words felt heavy on her tongue, as if she were asking herself more than Elira. She knew the answer already. She had been kind. She had been gentle.

She sighed softly, her breath fogging the glass in front of her as her thoughts drifted. It was supposed to be a boy. A brother. I would’ve been kind to him too. She had already chosen the Dreamfyre egg for him, already imagined what he would look like with his silver hair and violet eyes.

But now... there was no brother. No mother. Just silence.

Suddenly, a sharp tug at her scalp broke through her thoughts, jolting her back to the present. She flinched slightly, her eyes narrowing as she turned her head just enough to glance at Elira.

"I'm so sorry, princess! Please forgive me!" Elira’s voice trembled, her hands shaking as she quickly let go of the brush, dropping it to the floor. She fell to her knees, her head bowed low, not daring to look up at Y/n. "Please, forgive me, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t... please, please, forgive me..."

Y/n stared down at her, unblinking, her mind oddly blank. Elira had always been loyal. She had always done what she was told. And now here she was, groveling on the floor, begging for forgiveness over a simple tug of hair. It was... pathetic.

But she didn’t feel angry. She didn’t feel anything.

"It's alright," she said calmly, her voice soft but devoid of emotion. "You can continue."

Elira hesitated for a moment, her hands still trembling as she slowly picked up the brush again, standing on shaky legs. She resumed her task, this time more careful, her movements slower, more deliberate.

Y/n turned back to the window, her gaze distant once more, her mind drifting in and out of the haze that had settled over her ever since her mother’s death. She could still hear Elira sniffling softly behind her, no doubt still terrified of making another mistake.

It’s fine, she told herself. She’s always been like this. Always afraid. Always apologizing. But it didn’t matter. None of it mattered.

She closed her eyes again, her fingers tracing the cool glass once more, feeling the chill seep into her skin.

“I made a decision,” Viserys looked between his daughters. “I have chosen to name Rhaenyra as my heir.”

The words hit her like a wave of ice-cold water, freezing her smile in place. Wait… what? Her mind stumbled, struggling to make sense of the words. Rhaenyra? She blinked, willing herself to understand, to hear something else, but the reality pressed on her, unyielding.

“That’s… great, Father!” she managed, her voice tight and bright. Her lips twitched, and somehow, she forced them into a smile. She clasped her hands in front of her, feeling them shake, the tremors threatening to give her away. Hold it together, she thought desperately, teeth gritted behind her smile. Don’t let them see. Don’t let them see.

A cacophony of voices began to rise within her, whispering, hissing, each word cutting into her like a thousand small blades. Weak… pathetic… that’s what you are.

Her nails dug into her palms as she continued to hold her smile. No, I’m not weak… he just doesn’t see my worth yet. He doesn’t understand. But he will, he will…

That’s why Father chose her, isn’t it? Because you’re useless. Because you’re nothing.

She swallowed hard, her throat dry, and glanced sideways at Rhaenyra, who was watching her with a mixture of pride and hesitance. Rhaenyra, the golden girl. Rhaenyra, the heir. Rhaenyra… the one Father loves. Her stomach twisted painfully, but she forced herself to keep smiling, her jaw aching from the strain.

Of course he doesn’t love you, they continued. Why would he? You’re not what he wanted. You’re just a mistake, a failure, a useless little girl who couldn’t be more than a shadow.

Her heart hammered against her ribs, each beat like a drum in her ears. She felt hollow, as if she were disappearing from within, crumbling like ash. I’m not useless, I’m not… But they laughed, drowning her, making it impossible to think.

Look at him. Look at how he looks at her. Do you see that warmth in his eyes? He has never looked at you like that. He never will.

Her hands were trembling openly now, and she clasped them tighter, willing herself to stop, to silence the whirlwind inside her. I am more than this, she thought, but the words felt empty, like something fragile that could shatter with a single breath. She lifted her gaze to her father, but his expression was unchanged, his eyes full of pride—for Rhaenyra.

That’s all you are, isn’t it? A disappointment. A shadow, unwanted and unloved.

Her head swam, and she could barely hear anything beyond the mocking laughter echoing in her mind. But she kept smiling, the mask she wore cracking at the edges, her heart sinking with each passing second. You're wrong. You're wrong about me. Father does love me… he has to…

“Are you all right?” Viserys asked, frowning slightly.

The words jolted her back to the room, and she forced herself to nod, ignoring the way her throat tightened. “Yes, Father,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. She wanted to scream, to cry, to tear down everything around her, but instead, she turned to leave, her face carefully blank.

As she walked away, the voices clawed at her, unrelenting, ruthless.

Useless. Unwanted. Weak. That’s why he chose her. That’s why he’ll always choose her. Because you will never be enough.

It's finally over. It had been a long day, a day that had dragged on for what seemed like an eternity. Today Rhaenyra had been named heir to the Iron Throne and she had to bow before her.

As she walked, Elira, kept a respectful distance behind her, her soft footsteps barely audible. The quiet murmur of the castle, usually so comforting to Y/n, only seemed to intensify the ache in her chest. She quickened her pace, her heels clicking sharply against the stone floor as the thoughts spiraled deeper. Why her? Why not me?

"Thanks the gods it's Princess Rhaenyra,"

Y/n froze, her entire body stiffening as she heard the words. Her mind raced, and her steps slowed, her breath catching. She looked around the corner, and saw a small group of servants standing near a doorway, talking among themselves. Her gaze narrowed as she caught the full statement.

"Ah, yes, I'm really thankful the King didn’t choose that mad cunt," one of them laughed, a harsh, ugly sound that made her skin crawl.

"What did you say?"

They immediately froze when they heard her, their faces draining of color. She could hear their frantic whispers, the way their voices faltered in fear. One of them, took a hesitant step backward.

The servants' eyes widened, and they all started stammering apologies, their words tangled together in a rush of panic.

"Please, my lady, we meant no harm, we were just—"

"We were just talking, milady. Please forgive us—"

"Please don’t—"

Her eyes locked onto the boy who had spoken the words. He looked terrified now, his face pale, his eyes wide with fear. She took a step forward, the rage bubbling over, her movements fluid and quick as she closed the distance between them. The boy shrank back, but it was too late.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Y/n half-yelled, her voice a venomous hiss. Everything that had been building inside her—the anger, the hurt, the rejection—came flooding out in a violent, unstoppable wave.

The servants froze, some of them taking instinctive steps back, but they couldn’t escape.

Before the boy could even react, Y/n was on him, her hands grabbing his hair. With a sickening crack, she slammed his skull against the stone wall. She didn’t even register the impact at first, her vision turning red as the anger clouded her thoughts. She did it again. And again. And again.

The sound of his skull crashing against the stone echoed in her ears, drowning out everything else. She didn’t hear the cries, the pleading, the desperate sobs. She didn’t hear Elira begging her to stop, her voice barely cutting through the haze of fury.

"Stop! Please! Stop!" Elira cried, her voice high with fear, but Y/n was beyond reason now. She could feel the boy’s head break beneath her hands, could feel the blood running down her fingers. The sound of his sobs, his frantic begging, only drove her further into madness.

And then, after what felt like an eternity, it was over. She stood there, panting, her breath ragged as she stared down at the boy’s lifeless body. His head was a mangled mess, blood seeping out from the cracks in his skull. Her hands were slick with it, the red staining her fingers, her palms.

She blinked, coming back to herself slowly. The haze began to clear. She looked down at the body, her heart still racing, the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. Her chest heaved, and for a moment, she could barely comprehend what had just happened. She didn’t even remember how she’d gotten here, or how many times she’d struck him.

He’s dead.

The thought hit her like a punch to the gut. Her heart sank, but the anger still simmered beneath the surface, still clawing at her insides. She turned to look around at the others—the servants were trembling, staring at her in horror, their faces pale and filled with fear.

Why... Why they are looking at me like this?

Y/n glanced down at her dress, now soaked in blood. It was one of her favorites. She frowned as she looked at the deep red stains, the fabric ruined. What a pity.

With a deep sigh, she straightened up, her anger beginning to ebb, leaving a hollow emptiness behind. Her voice was calm, too calm, as she turned to the servants. “Clean this mess up,” she ordered, her voice flat. “And make sure no one finds out about it.”

She didn’t care how they did it, just as long as it was done. She turned to Elira, her voice still controlled, though her emotions were a mess inside her. “Prepare the bath for me,” she said softly, almost pitiful. “I need to wash.”

As she walked away, Elira hesitated for a moment before following her. The others remained rooted to the spot, too afraid to move. Y/n walked through the hallways, the blood drying on her hands, her mind drifting in a haze of confusion and sadness.

I’m so tired. The thought came suddenly, washing over her like a wave. She let out a breath, shaking her head slightly.

But as she entered her chambers, she start thinking about the scene she left behind. The servants would clean it. They always did. But they would never forget. And neither would she.

With that, she closed the door behind her, her thoughts already shifting again, the sadness creeping back in.

"The realm will never accept a woman as their ruler," Rhaenys muttered, her voice laced with the bitterness that always seemed to cloud her words when the topic of succession arose.

Y/n tilted her head and nodded, the movement slow, almost sympathetic. Oh, how tragic, she thought, her lips curling into a faint smirk. All this whining and hand-wringing. Pathetic.

She softened her features, arranging her face into what she imagined looked like mild concern. "Tragic, isn’t it?" she said, her voice dripping with a smooth, honeyed sarcasm that neither of them seemed to catch.

"When I am queen I will create a new order," Rhaenyra said, her tone defiant, her chin lifted as though challenging the world to disagree.

Yes, yes, Rhaenyra, I’m sure you would be a shining example of wisdom and honor, Y/n thought, fighting back a laugh. Keep dreaming.

"Of course you would, dear sister," Y/n replied smoothly, giving a slight, dismissive nod. "The realm would be lucky to have you."

Rhaenys glanced at her, as if sizing her up, before letting out a low, sardonic chuckle. "Men would sooner burn the kingdom than let a woman sit on the throne," she said, a bitter truth in her words that, for some reason, still failed to resonate with Y/n. Power wasn’t something one was given—it was taken. And anyone too weak to seize it had no right to it in the first place.

She hid her thoughts behind a sip of wine, watching them both with a half-lidded gaze, letting their words drift over her like idle gossip. What a pair they are—one too proud to realize her limitations, the other too bitter to let go of her grievances.

"Oh, yes, a kingdom ablaze," Y/n murmured, feigning a wistful tone. "How poetic. Such a tragic tale, isn’t it?" She held out her glass, staring into the dark red liquid as if pondering something deeply moving, though in truth, she was only admiring the way the light caught the wine.

Rhaenyra sighed heavily. "They underestimate us. They see us as delicate things, fit only to be wives and mothers."

"Do they?" Y/n’s smile widened, an amused glint in her eyes. Oh, the endless suffering. Boo-hoo.

Rhaenys was watching her with an arched brow, clearly picking up on the subtle mockery in her tone. "You don’t seem very troubled by any of this, Y/n," she observed, almost as if accusing her.

Y/n shrugged, a slow, lazy movement that exuded indifference. "Oh, I am devastated, truly," she replied, the sarcasm practically dripping from her words. "What a tragic world we live in, where women like us must endure such indignities. Really, it’s heartbreaking."

Rhaenyra shot her a sharp look. "This isn’t a joke, Y/n."

"Of course not," Y/n replied, her voice smooth as silk, unfazed by her sister’s disapproval. "Nothing about any of this is funny." She took another sip, savoring the wine and the absurdity of it all. I should be the one that wear the crown, not you.

Then, as though the thought had only just occurred to her, she sighed and placed her empty goblet aside. "Ah, but I must take my leave, unfortunately." She glanced over at them, feigning a regretful expression. "I’ve a fitting to attend for my dress, you know, for Father’s wedding. It simply wouldn’t do to be unprepared for such an occasion."

The slight in her tone was subtle, but it was there, veiled in a pleasant smile. The wedding going to happen sooner or later. What a spectacle it would be. Their dear father, so desperate to secure his legacy that he’d wed a mere girl, and all to produce another heir—a boy, if the gods were willing, and if not… well, it hardly mattered to her.

"How dutiful of you," Rhaenys remarked, a hint of mockery in her voice. It was clear she saw through Y/n’s thin veneer of civility.

"Indeed." Y/n inclined her head, lips quirking in a smug smile. "After all, it’s so important to play our parts well, isn’t it?"

She glanced back at them one last time, giving them both a pointed look, her smile widening as she took in their earnest, troubled faces. "Farewell, then. Do enjoy your discussion. Such deep, meaningful words, truly," she said, voice dripping with false admiration as she turned on her heel, sauntering away without a second glance.

Y/n strode toward her father’s chambers, Ser Criston trailing like a shadow at her side. She had a perfectly charming smile painted on her lips until she came up short, blocked by two guards standing in front of the doors. Their hands gripped their spears, glancing at each other nervously before looking back at her.

“Step aside,” she said, voice a silky command.

The guards didn’t budge.

One of them, foolishly brave or utterly clueless, raised a hand. “I’m sorry, my lady, but the King has asked to not be disturbed.”

Her smile faltered, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “You’re saying I can’t see my father?” Her voice was calm, almost amused. She tilted her head, letting her gaze drift over their faces with cold scrutiny. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

The guard stiffened, clearly feeling her gaze like a blade. “We have orders.”

She chuckled, the sound smooth as honey but laced with venom. “And do you have any idea what I could do to you for disobeying me?” She leaned in, voice dropping low. “I could have your tongues ripped out, have you hanging from the city walls by your intestines, all while you beg for mercy.” She smiled, sickly sweet. “Or I could just tell my father you disrespected his daughter.”

The guards flinched, glancing at each other but standing firm.

She clicked her tongue, gaze sharpening. “Perhaps I should have Ser Criston here peel the skin from your faces, inch by inch? How does that sound?”

Criston’s hand drifted to his sword, his eyes darkening in anger at their defiance. Before he could make a move, Otto appeared around the corner, striding toward them with his usual calm authority.

“Ah, my lord Hand,” Y/n said, smile widening as she turned toward Otto. She cast the guards one last look before redirecting her attention.

Otto looked at her and then at the guards, clearly sensing the tension in the air. “Is there a problem here, princess?” His voice was calm, as if he hadn’t just walked into a potential bloodbath.

She tilted her head, letting out a soft, exasperated sigh. “Oh, nothing major, Lord Hand,” she purred. “Just a minor misunderstanding. These men seem to think they have the right to keep me from my father’s chambers. Quite peculiar, don’t you think?” She cast a smug glance at the guards, watching as they shifted uncomfortably.

The guards started to speak up, but Y/n shot them a warning glare, silencing them immediately. “In fact, I’d say it was downright insulting.”

Otto nodded thoughtfully, his expression neutral. “Well, princess, your father is about to attend the small council meeting. I’ve come to fetch him myself.”

She clenched her jaw, an annoyed sigh slipping from her lips as she finally gave a small nod. Fucking cock suckers. But she kept her expression calm, respectful even. Otto had always been fond of her—treated her like one of his own, in a way. No need to break that little bond just yet.

“Very well,” she murmured, stepping back as she allowed Otto to enter. She watched him disappear into the chamber, then turned her gaze back toward the guards, her expression a warning that needed no words. They quickly looked away, pretending to be more interested in the floor.

Moments later, Otto returned with her father. Viserys offered her a faint, apologetic smile, but his focus seemed elsewhere, a bit distracted. Odd. Otto, too, seemed unusually composed, almost as if there was something else on his mind.

As they walked away, Y/n glanced toward the chamber doors, half-distracted, until she caught a flash of red hair in the corner of her vision. A woman’s figure seated on the edge of the bed—her father’s bed.

Her heart skipped a beat, eyes widening. She had to suppress a sudden laugh, biting her nails as her excitement bubbled up. Oh, now that’s just… delicious.

There’s no way… Is that…? Did Otto really…? Oh, you sly, clever old fox. So that’s why Father’s been so preoccupied. And here I thought he was just mourning my poor Mother.

“Are you all right, my lady?” Criston’s voice brought her back to the present. He glanced at her with concern.

She smiled at him, a flash of brightness that was all teeth. “I’m perfectly fine, Ser Criston,” she murmured, her gaze still lingering on that red hair. Alicent. The Hand’s sweet little daughter, warming dear Father’s bed where Mother once lay. Oh, it was almost poetic.

Without another word, she wrapped her arm around Criston’s, a little too tight, leading him away, her smile widening as her mind danced with happiness. The thrill of it all simmered under her skin, making her eyes glint with a mad sort of glee.

Oh, Rhaenyra… if only you knew. Your dear friend is right here, warming our father’s bed. Such a pity you don’t see it yet. Poor, poor little sister.

Criston glanced at her, brow furrowed in confusion. “Is something the matter, my lady?”

“Nothing at all,” she purred, letting out a small laugh. “I’m just… happy, that’s all.”

As the small council convened, Viserys rose to his feet, his expression serious yet strained. She cast a brief glance at Rhaenyra beside her, who watched their father with rapt attention, completely unaware.

Don’t tell me Father’s actually going to—

“I have decided… I am to marry Lady Alicent Hightower.”

The silence that followed was exquisite. Y/n’s smirk widened as she glanced sideways at Rhaenyra, whose face had turned from shock to disbelief. Rhaenyra’s eyes met Y/n’s, wide and wounded, and in that brief exchange, Y/n’s smirk told her everything. Yes, dear sister, I knew. I knew before you did. And now… so do you.

Y/n’s gaze turned cold as she looked across the room at Corlys. He sat motionless for a moment, disbelief and anger barely concealed in his face as he processed what the King had just announced. She barely held back her sneer of disgust.

This pathetic man… offering up his child to this decrepit old fool just to worm his way closer to the throne. What a spineless little weasel. Tried to sell sweet Leana to Father… You’re nothing but a cock-sucking snake, Corlys.

Corlys’ face hardened. Offended, he shot Viserys a withering look before standing abruptly and leaving the room in silence. Y/n’s eyes followed him, the smirk still tugging at her lips. Good riddance, you worm.

Next to her, Rhaenyra had gone pale. She shot a look of absolute betrayal at Alicent, whose face was touched with guilt, as if she’d known this moment was coming yet hadn’t prepared for the sight of her friend’s hurt. Then turning on her heel and storming out.

Poor, naive Rhaenyra… How perfect, to have this all crumble around you while you stood unaware.

But Y/n stayed, savoring the stunned silence that filled the room, and then, without missing a beat, she plastered on her most sincere smile.

“Congratulations, Father!” she chimed, her voice warm as she moved toward Viserys.

Viserys let out a sigh, though a relieved one, as she embraced him, patting her arm gently. “Thank you, my dear,” he replied, clearly grateful for her support.

She released him, turning to Alicent, who was still wide-eyed, not quite sure what to make of the sudden affection Y/n was showing. She shifted uncomfortably as Y/n opened her arms to her.

“Alicent,” Y/n murmured, drawing her in with a tight embrace, voice sweet as honey. She leaned close to her ear, her words just barely audible to anyone but Alicent.

“Oh, Alicent,” she murmured into her ear, “I always knew you were a little whore.” She felt Alicent’s body stiffen, but she continued, undeterred. “You shouldn’t be so pleased with yourself—you’ve married my rotting father, after all.” She let out a mocking laugh, barely a whisper. “I can only imagine… his ‘crown jewels’ are as decrepit as the rest of him. But lucky you, you’re the perfect breeding mare, aren’t you? A nice, wet hole to keep his cock warm,” she added, voice dripping with contempt, “Every night you’ll lay with him, his decaying hands on you, his disgusting, rotting body. I’ll bet even his—” she sneered, “—cock is rotting.”

Alicent’s face flushed, her breath catching as she stood, stunned and trembling in Y/n’s arms. Y/n only smiled, tilting her head to kiss her on the cheek.

“I’m so happy for you, Mother,” she cooed, her voice dripping with sweetness.

Alicent, visibly shaken, managed a faltering smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Thank you… daughter.”

Part 1 Part 3

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ

[starkeyisthelastname]

i just know trailer park rafe looooves making out for hours and eating you out until you can’t remember your name anymore. Do you think he would have a sp*tting kink?

oh yes absolutely all of it. 😩 god this man is nasty

He didn’t know how you did it, but he sure wasn’t complaining. Those delicate little mittens working all day to clean up his filthy trailer that he knew was just going to become a wreck for you to have to pick up again. Or that you had made him a full plate of food with a beer that sat on the banged up coffee table just waiting for him. You still looked so goddamn pretty too, his precious doll that waited on him hand and foot because you wanted to make him happy and show him you could be the perfect little trailer wife he needed.

His plate was cleared, a few beer cans now littered across the table that his long legs rested on. The small living room was dark except for a dim bulb and the static of the old tv playing some shitty old movie. He’d light a cigarette, taking a long drag as he watched you cleaning up the kitchen. He could see right through that little white sundress, still looking like a virgin despite proudly stripping you away from that title.

He was a pleased man that night and he felt like worshipping your sugary self after all you had done. His deep voice would echo off the thin walls, pulling you out of your thoughts as you scrubbed the counter. “C’’mere babydoll, why don’t you give those lil hands a rest?” He said, patting his thigh as an order to come sit in his lap.

He leaned back against the tattered couch, stained wife beater on and with a pair of torn jeans hanging low on his hips. His cigarette hung between his lips, rough hands grabbing your hips to pull you down between his thighs. “You been workin’ hard all day, haven’t ya sweet cheeks?” He would rasp near your ear, smelly nicotine blowing over your frame. You nodded, leaning into his touch his dirty hands ran up and down your body.

It started off with a few pecks, his scruff tickling your baby smooth face as lips teased yours while he still finished his cigarette in between. You’d feel giddy inside, Rafe being the first man your sheltered self had ever kissed. The more whiny you became though, the more possessive he got. Squeezing your ass cheek in his massive palm as he had adjusted you in his lap.

You’d be a couple hours in, tits spilled out of your dress and him shirtless. Your poor little self didn’t know what to do, just letting his tongue shove its way into your mouth over and over until your full lips were swollen. “Mmm.. that’s my pretty baby.” His voice raspy from the long make out session, eyes peering over you like prey. He was longing for a taste of something else, the thought of his tongue on your cunt now invading his mind.

“You wanna know what I really wanna do now?” He asked, thumb slipping between your lips as your desperate little self couldn’t help but rub your bare sex along the crotch of his jeans. You shrugged your shoulders gently, eyes lazy while you sucked on his digit. “I wanna lick your pretty cunt until you can’t take it anymore baby.” He told you, smirk on his face but eyes dark. “Say it. Tell me you want me to lick your cunt.” His words firmer this time.

You didn’t curse, always had been raised to never use foul language despite living in a trailer park. You just couldn’t help but to obey your favorite person, your small voice speaking the unknown words. “I… I want you to l-lick my c-cunt.” You said, voice quiet as you felt a little ashamed. It was enough for Rafe though, nearly growling at the dirty language he teaching you to speak. He’d really test how obedient you were, spitting in your mouth like a whore and closing your jaw shut. “You are so far gone, ain’t ya babydoll? Lettin’ me dirty up your mouth and just fuckin’ takin’ it.”

He’d pick you up with ease, his tall body easily navigating you through the cramped trailer and down the tiny hall to his room. He’d throw you old scratchy mattress, stance still looking huge as he kneeled down. He’d push your dress up, head eagerly finding its way between your plush thighs as he began to eat the sweetest cunt he’d ever been in. You tasted like sugar, leaking all over his tongue and dirty stache as he slurped your folds up messily. He’d watch you try and keep your eyes on him, your soft hand gripping one of the flat pillows he had for support only for your body to fall back with pleasure. You were experiencing a grown man’s mouth on your cunt for the first time and Rafe certainly didn’t play when it came to eating pussy.

“I know babydoll.. feels good don’t it? Keep serving me like a good lil’ trailer park whore and I’ll eat your sweet cunt out as much as you want.” He drawled out between licks, nose buried against your clit to leave you shuddering.

[puppyplayhouse]

Thinking about mean Dom Chan

Warnings: rough sex, degradation, hard dom Chan, drool.

You don't expect him to come home and immediately shove you to your knees, but you welcome it eagerly. You don't even hesitate when he pushes your face against his covered bulge, watching with an intense stare as you lap at his covered cock, drool causing wet splotches to paint the denim material. This is your happy place, after all.

He lets you go like that for a while. Watching you messily worship his cock in an almost pitiful attempt to earn something more from him. You do earn it, of course. You're always so good to him.

He'd slide his pants down painfully slowly, his underwear following. You know you have to wait for his approval, though, patiently waiting with your tongue our, panting like an eager puppy waiting for a treat. That's what you are, isn't it? An obedient pet for him to command.

He loves to tap the tip of his cock against your waiting tongue. You don't move either, unwavering as spit drips down your chin. You just sit, still as ever until he pets your cheek.

"Go ahead. Take it."

You sink down on his cock, completely ignoring your gag reflex. That's the only option you have when he's thrusting into your mouth, almost desperate and with little rhythm, the wet sounds of your throat wrapped around him keeping him in a daze.

He doesn't cum on your mouth though. No, he has other plans.

"Turn around. I wanna see how much of a mess you've made."

Your chest is pressed to the cold wood floor with little resistance, hips high in the air, and wiggling in a way that taunts him. He's almost cold as he kneels behind you, pressing two fingers into your already dripping cunt. You know better than to whine about wanting more as they massage your gspot for only a moment before their being replace by the tip of his cock pressing into you slowly, his hands taking a bruising grip of your hips as he bottoms out.

It's the only time he takes it slow. The initial thrust. Once he's savoured the feeling of your walls wrapped around him, he's switching to brute force, hand pinning you down by the back of your neck as he fucks you viciously, his voice dripping venom as he speaks.

"Filthy fucking thing. You're so fucking desperate, you know that? Showing off this pretty cunt any chance you get. It's never enough, is it? You're not happy unless you've got my cock buried in you."

He doesn't want a response, but he lets your quiet peas slip past without scolding you, a deep growl vibrating through his chest.

"My perfect fucking bitch. God, you're so fucking good, aren't you? Such a perfect fucking hole."

You're already too far gone, your head completely empty as spit pools under your cheek, you mouth open as a string of 'uh, uh, uh' is forced from you between pornographic moans and whines.

"My poor puppy. You're fucking pathetic. It's too good, isn't it? Dumb bitch can't even fucking think when I'm fucking you."

He doesn't pull out when he cums and that's a given. He loves how you keen as he fills you, watching his cum dripping down as it overflows. Sometimes he'll collect some on his fingers and shove them into your mouth, other times he'll tug you up and tell you to clean his cock, getting him worked up again. He's a little more gentle the second time around and that's when he'll finally make you cum, but only if you're good.

[planetsage]

Hi babes I hope you're doing well, and I was wondering what's it like being nanami's ( obedient) stay at home wife 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

Any whosies how was your day 🤞🏻🤞🏻

🕳️

starting my day w nanami i can tell it’s gonna be a good one🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ contains. f!reader, lifestyledom!nanami, sub!reader, housewife activities, somno, throat bulge, vibrator in public, spanking, bondage.

nanami holds you, his pretty little housewife, to very high expectations:

every morning, you wake up before the sun can get too intrusive, peak its warmed golden rays through the window and stir your husband awake, to make him breakfast. usually something light with a nice cup of coffee. you religiously wear his button downs with nothing underneath like a uniform. they completely envelop you in his musky scent. an earthy but warm aroma, reminiscent of a damp forest after a rain, sinking into every single pore of your body, reminding you of him with every breath.

after breakfast preparations are done, you slip back into bed to wake him. pulling out the softness of his cock to suckle on and let grow in your warm mouth. making sure he wakes up nicely so the rest of his day can go smoothly as well. “ahh good morning, honey — haahh, watch .. watch the teeth, love mmmhhmmm there you go, atta girl” his deep voice gravelly from just waking up, resonant, hums in your ears.

while he’s gone, you meticulously clean every nook and cranny of the house. he expects perfection from you, but only because he knows his lovely wife is capable. scents of fresh linen and polished wood mix and suffuse the loft perfectly. just how he likes it. you always cook dinner for him and sometimes when he comes home a little early he’ll come up from behind and slip a warm yet rough hand on the curve of your waist, “smells delicious love watcha makin’ hm?” kissing your neck before nibbling at the receptive skin. and you lean into his embrace, “your favorite”

but usually he comes back to you after dinner is already packed up and finished and you greet him at the door ready to submit. ready to please him because the stress of the workday is a physical entity that clings adding pounds to his shoulders. he pulls you into him as you work on the buttons of his shirt peeling away his clothes, “missed me?” you hum in agreeance running a freshly manicured set of nails per his black card down the hard planes of his body, “always. let me take care of you”

he loves to see you on your knees. barking out the command to watch you dig them into the ground underneath him. has to train your throat to take all of him because he’s just so big, plugging up your little mouth, stretching out your jaw making you gag and cry around him, “almost there baby cmon, know you can do it” rubbing a thumb at the bulge that pokes out your tight throat.

and teaches you how to take him, telling you “honey, arch .. arch s’more for me” guiding you with heavy hands, “uhuh theerree you go. perfect” before sliding his fat cock head against your clit.

in public, at business dinners, he’ll have you wear a little vibrator that he controls with his phone. setting it to a constant hum that has white take over your eyes, your heart pounding in your head. he loves watching you struggle to keep your composure in the presence of his higher ups. turning the little thing all the way up when introducing you to someone.

and he constantly praises you for your obedience. not just sexually but day to day, “you’ve been so helpful today baby, thank you” kissing you with a softness that makes him forget if he’s ever loved anyone else.

but when you disobey, which is rare, he makes sure to correct you. you’ll never learn if there isn’t any punishment involved, taking you over his knee to slap at your ass so hard he leaves his mark. telling you, “quiet” when you cry out and pull at the ropes he tied snug against the small of your wrists.

after though, he pulls you into his ribs, holding the hand inside you, and whispering sweet some things into your ear, “you did so well for me, baby. always do so good. i love you so much, forever, my everything” cupping your face with hands so gentle they feel scared.

all in all, you cater to his desires and he to yours with love.

[mindmelter]

Serving The Alien And Its Puppets — Part 1

I was kneeling between my older stepbrother's legs, looking up at him as he smoked. My plan didn't work out as expected.

He looked as intimidating as ever, but this time it wasn't my obnoxious older stepbrother behind those hating eyes. Instead, a small alien slime had taken over, consumed his brain, and replaced it with its gooey form.

My stepbrother had always been a homophobic asshole, and for that, I despised him deeply. Yet, in a twist of cruel irony, he was also one of the most hottest men I had ever known. I loved watching him from the window of my room, working out in the backyard until his body was glistening with sweat. I knew it wasn't safe to spy on him like that.

But I wasn’t safe with the alien slime either. Fear gnawed at me as I realized I might suffer the same fate as my dumb stepbrother. Yes, I might have helped the purple gooey creature enter his body, I did it believing it would be grateful and let me have fun with his body. But now, I feared my plan had turned against me.

My stepbrother was way bigger and stronger than me, so when he ordered me to kneel, I just obeyed. He looked down at me, thinking about what he should do to me.

"I should take you over too, It's too risky to let a human know about my existence," He took a puff and blew out the smoke. "but you helped me get inside this human after all."

"I-I promise I won't tell anyone about you, I just wanted to have my way with him, that's all!"

"You helped an alien slime replace your stepbrother's brain just so you could have a taste of him, gay boy?" He asked, lowering his underwear and freeing my stepbrother's thick flaccid shaft.

I eagerly nodded, there was nothing I wanted more than to taste my stepbrother's cock. He playfully slapped the heavy shaft on my face as he had an evil grin on his face, a grin that I was very familiar with. "I guess having a human with an intact brain as a slave could be fun." He grunted as he smacked it hard on my cheeks, but when I tried to lick it, he pushed it away.

"Nah-uh you have to earn it first, gay boy. The takeover left this shell quite sweaty, so if you lick the sweat off him, I might let you suck him." He promised.

Still on my knees, I started to lick the sweat off his abs and pecs, his big muscular pecs felt soft against my tongue. I sucked on his nipples as his right arm rested on top of the couch and he smoked with the other. "I will give you two options, gay boy. You can either be my obedient slave and help me spread my control over your kind, or you can become like your stepbrother, an empty husk of a man with a head full of alien slime."

I nodded and smiled at him, "I will gladly serve as your human slave."

"Great." He grunted, and then he coughed a small purple slime on his hand, just like the one I helped get inside him, but smaller.

"Take it and prove your loyalty to me, your stepdad is in the shower."

My stepdad was a strikingly muscular man with a sexy hairy body. He was kind to me, but he never intervened when his son bullied me. Part of me thinks he deserves this, but it's not like I have a choice—it's either this or have my brain devoured.

I grabbed the purple goo and headed towards the bathroom door. I could still hear the shower running, I slowly opened the door and walked inside the bathroom, the curtains were closed so my stepdad didn't see me entering. When I was close enough, I threw the purple slime over the curtain.

"What the-" I heard my stepdad say, but his voice was soon cut off and he started to grunt. I couldn't see what was going on behind the curtain, but it looked like my dad was fighting it. Suddenly everything went quiet. The shower turned off and the curtain was pushed open, revealing my stepdad wearing a towel.

"D-dad?" I asked, my eyes on his muscular hairy body, he looked so hot.

"Not your dad anymore, call me Master Daddy from now on, my human slave!"

He suddenly dropped the towel and I gasped when I saw how big he was. I had never seen him naked before.

"Kneel and show me some respect, slave." He grunted. I dropped to my knees and took his entire shaft into my mouth, he fucked my face as I caressed his meaty hairy pecs. He then pulled me up by my hair and forced his big tongue deep inside my mouth, it felt so good, I loved how strong his tongue felt. While we kissed I groped his pecs and pinched his nipples, he let out a deep sexy moan while still making out, so it looked like my stepdad had sensitive nipples, I thought.

We walked back to the living room to my possessed stepbrother, now Master. "Good job, my human slave. You have proven yourself worthy of my trust."

That day my stepdad fucked me while I sucked my stepbrother. I was their slave now, and the alien made sure that I would get busy with his puppets.

The alien thrived on consuming brains daily, so it never ceased creating new empty puppets. Every day, he would send me outside with a small copy of his body so I could find a man for him to feed. That was my job as his slave, to help him feed and spread his control over humanity, and I couldn't ask for a better job.

_____________________

Mr. Rossi was my hot Italian Daddy neighbor. I had been fantasizing about him for years, ever since we moved into this quiet neighborhood. He was the perfect example of a hot, protective, and loving dad figure, I grew up seeing how caring he was to his two sons, his sons lived on their own now. So when my Alien Master sent me to find him food, I knew Mr. Rossi would be perfect.

I knocked on his door and waited, I had in my hand a small part of the alien. It wasn’t the creature’s main form, just a copy of it that was connected to the original alien inhabiting my older brother, once the copy consumed Mr. Rossi’s brain, the main alien would also feel satiated, like a hive mind. The alien hadn’t explained the exact mechanics to me, so that was all I knew.

Mr. Rossi opened the door and gave me a warm smile. "Hey Eric, Is everything ok?" He kindly asked. I didn't respond, and just threw the slime on his face.

I was soon inside his house, staring at the hot hairy Italian Dilf in front of me. The alien slime had already replaced his brain.

"Come here, my human slave," he purred. His voice was still Mr. Rossi's, but it was deeper and more commanding. I felt a shiver of anticipation run down my spine as I walked to him and we started to make out, I then buried my face between his big pecs while I cupped and squeezed them, Mr. Rossi just stood there, letting me have my way with his pecs.

I always fantasized about Mr. Rossi and his pecs, and now I finally had them for myself, thanks to my alien Master.

Mr. Rossi then reached out and gently stroked my cheek, his rough hands leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "You've wanted this for so long, haven't you?" he whispered, pushing his finger inside my mouth and leaning in close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath on my ear. "You've wanted Daddy Rossi to take care of you, to make you feel safe and loved because your stepdad was a piece of shit who let your stepbrother bully you." He then playfully slapped my face. "Too bad that's not gonna happen. I'm gonna destroy your hole with this puppet's cock! I'm going to teach you a lesson for being so naughty." He lifted me into his strong arms and walked to his room.

He then threw me on his bed and pulled down his shorts. "Get on all fours, now." He commanded.

I didn't hesitate, obeying his command as if I'd been waiting for it my entire life. I got down on the bed on all fours, presenting my ass to him. The hairs on Mr. Rossi's chest tickled my back as I felt his hot breath against my ear. "You're so fucking tight," he growled, his big manly hands taking hold of my waist before he finally thrust his huge cock inside.

He began to fuck me hard and fast, driving his length deep into my body with each stroke. I arched my back, moaning in ecstasy as the alien inside him made the nice neighborhood dad act like a gay depraved dom.

"Yes, Daddy," I moaned, feeling his thick cock stretch me impossibly wide. "Fuck me. Own me. Make me yours."

When I felt Mr. Rossi's load fill my ass, we lay there, panting heavily, I couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. The slime had given me everything I ever wanted. I looked at a portrait picture on the side of the bed, in the old pic, Mr. Rossi was fishing with two sons.

"Why don't you call your sons to come over? Say It's an urgency." I suggested.

Later that day, while I was on my knees sucking Mr. Rossi's cock, we heard a knock on the door. Mr. Rossi smirked at me and coughed two purple slimes on his hands. "Go open the door," He ordered.

When I opened the door, I saw two hot men, they both looked just as hot as their dad. I couldn't wait to have them as the Alien's puppets.

"Who are you? Where is our dad?" One of them asked, pushing me out of the way.

"Dad? We're here, are you ok?" The other asked.

Mr. Rossi grinned at his sons as he was standing naked with purple slime on each of his hands. I closed the door...

Later that day I was in Mr. Rossi's room, looking at the two hot Italian brothers in only their underwear.

"What are you waiting for?" they both said in unison, it would be creepy if they weren't so freaking hot.

I dropped to my knees and started taking turns between the two huge Italian cocks. After a while, I was being spit-roasted by the two hung brothers. Mr. Rossi walked inside the room while I was still being filled on both ends, his huge shaft swinging with each step.

"You did good today, gay boy. Your Master is very satiated, you got him three meals." Mr. Rossi and his two sons said in unison. "He will allow you to pick one puppet to dominate."

I was surprised, I already helped the Alien Master convert a lot of men, but this would be the first time he would let me top one of his puppets.

I stood up and looked at the three puppets for a while, "I want Mr. Rossi," I said.

Mr. Rossi lay on the bed with his legs up, his huge hairy ass on full display, I kneeled behind him and playfully slapped it, watching it jingle. I then grabbed each cheek and shoved my shaft inside in one thrust, fucking him roughly as I buried my face between his pecs.

"Why don't you two feed your cocks to our Daddy slut?" I asked the brothers. They obeyed and kneeled on each side of Mr. Rossi, who started to take turns sucking them both. As I fucked Mr. Rossi, I watched his big pecs bounce with each hard thrust, then I got an idea.

"Boys, Daddy's tits are begging for a sucking, don't you think?" I suggested, with a wicked smile on my face.

They both lay next to their dad and started sucking on each nipple. It was such a hot sight, seeing two grown men with wives and kids sucking on their dad's tits.

That afternoon, me and the two brothers took turns on Mr. Rossi's ass, I came so much that I passed out. By the alien Master's orders, Mr. Rossi took me in his strong arms and brought me home.

_____________________

After the Rossi family became puppets for the alien Master, I suggested the alien to go for my boss, Mr. Wahid.

Mr. Wahid was a rich, muscular, Arabic hunk who had always captured my heart, he was rude and intimidating, and treated the staff like his slaves, but the few moments I had near him, would always had me staring at his muscles and having gay fantasies about him.

The next day while I was at work, Mr. Wahid called me to his office. He was busy on the phone and without even looking at me, he ordered me to get him a coffee. It was as if I was nothing to him.

It was the perfect opportunity for my plan. I had brought a small fragment of the slime to work. So I went to make his coffee, but before entering his office, I slipped the slime into the cup. As I walked in, Mr. Wahid didn't even glance up or thank me; he just grabbed the coffee and continued talking on the phone, completely ignoring my presence. All it took was a sip, and his phone dropped to the floor as his eyes rolled back and his muscles tensed. I had a hard on as I closed the door with me inside, a few seconds later he glanced at me with an Intimidating look.

"Come get my phone off the floor, slave!" I grabbed his phone and gave it to him, he then ordered me to get on my knees under the table and suck him off. I smirked as I undid his pants and fished out his thick member. Soon I was slobbering on my boss's shaft, he was so huge and thick that barely fitted my mouth, and he also had a strong smell as if he hadn't washed his junk for the entire day.

He smacked his heavy shaft on my tongue as he continued talking on the phone in Arabic, I ran my tongue on his heavy hanging balls and soon he was coating my face with his Arabic milk.

Mr. Wahid would be just the first one in the company to become an alien puppet, I had a lot of subjects in mind. Mr. Wahid ended the call and looked down at me—my face still buried in his musky balls while cum covered my face.

"We are closing a deal with an Arab prince. He's about to arrive for the meeting and I want you to welcome him. Now take your dirty mouth off my balls and go do your fucking job!"

Honestly, the alien possessed Mr. Wahid wasn't much different from the old one. A few hours later I was waiting in the parking lot for the Arab prince to arrive. I saw an expensive car park in front of me, when the door opened, my heart started racing. Inside the car was the hottest Middle Eastern man I'd ever seen.

Fortunately for me, but not so much for him, I had an extra slime in my pocket.

[lovelybucky1]

Leashed

Kinktober Day 10- Pet Play

warnings: pet play, cockwarming, dom/sub dynamics, vaginal sex, 18+ minors DNI

main masterlist

kinktober masterlist

Tommy had always wanted a dog. Growing up he never had one, playing with the strays on the street instead. Now, he doesn’t have time to take care of a pet. Not one so reliant on him, anyway.

That’s why he has you. You’re obedient, never causing any trouble or making messes he has to clean up. You love to play, but you’re content sitting at his feet as long as he pets you every now and then. You’re good at fetch; you always get him his matchbook or a glass for his whiskey whenever he asks. And best of all, you have a tight cunt you’re eager to let him use whenever he wants it.

You’re not a prostitute, he made that much clear when your arrangement started. You’re on his payroll for the company you provide, not the sex. Whatever you do with your cunt is between you and Tommy, not the business.

He got you a custom made collar from the leather worker down the street, and your role has been set ever since. You’re Tommy Shelby’s puppy. Loyal, obedient, perfect.

Today Tommy is in a particularly sour mood. A business deal fell through or something, you never know the specifics, and he’s been angry all afternoon.

You know better not to pester him, especially when he’s like this, but you truly hate seeing him upset. You’ve been kneeling at his feet and he hasn’t even pet you in over an hour. You paw at his pant leg to get his attention.

“What is it?” he asks without looking down at you.

“Do you need anything, sir?” you ask.

He shakes his head and sighs heavily. “If I needed something, I’d take it. Keep quiet, pet.”

You pout but take his instruction and stay silent. You walk forward on your knees to rest your cheek against his thigh. He sighs again but doesn’t chastise you for it. Still, he doesn’t pet you.

You stay like that for a while, but you can feel his tension and you hate when he won’t tell you what he needs.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No,” he replies, frustration evident in his voice.

“I can help you relax, sir.”

Tommy slams his fist onto the solid oak top of his desk. “I don’t need your fucking help. I’m trying to work.”

You huff. You don’t usually act like this, but Tommy is never usually so dismissive of you.

“I was going to offer to sit on your cock while you work, but I guess you’re too busy.”

It was petty, but it peaked Tommy’s interest. His large hand cups the back of your neck and you look up at him.

“You’ve never acted this way before,” he says with an unreadable tone.

“I just want to help you, sir.”

Tommy's jaw clenches and he sighs heavily. Then, he reaches down to loop his finger in the ring of your collar and pulls you up to your feet. You watch as he undoes his pants and takes out his soft cock.

He looks up at you expectantly, waiting for you to service him. You grasp his dick and begin to stroke him gently, working him up to full hardness. It doesn't take long; Tommy can never resist your soft hands.

Once he's at full mast, you pull up your dress and straddle his lap. His cock slides into you slowly and once he's fully seated, you wiggle your hips to get comfortable.

"Stop fuckin' moving. I've got work to do," Tommy gruffs.

You nod and rest your chin on his shoulder. You sit still like a good girl while he fills out whatever paperwork is on his desk. You can feel the tension in his muscles release a bit as time passes, your cunt obviously doing the trick.

You don't move your body, but your walls clench around him every now and then. You're not doing it on purpose, you just can't help it. It feels so good being full of Tommy's dick.

"Puppy," Tommy says, breaking the almost hour of silence.

"Yes, sir?"

"You're distracting me."

"I'm sorry, sir. I swear I'm not doing it on purpose," you say with a pout, trying to look as honest as possible.

Tommy puts his pen down and leans back in his chair, creating space between your face and his so he can get a good look at you.

"Cunt's just that desperate for me, eh?" You nod. "Well I suppose I've worked hard enough for one day. I could use a bit of stress release."

Tommy's hands land on your hips and he begins to rock you back and forth. Tommy never was strong willed when it came to you.

[nrdmssgs]

Dom König scenario

Masterlist

Ok, we had him soft and obedient, how about his other side? Because you don't call someone the King, if they are just tender little angels. Smut under cut.

You were sure, it was you, who actually initiated this all: after months of silent yearning, back and forth dynamics, pinning and practically burning alive with desire you ended up in his hands, your lips pressed against his in desperate attempt to put an end to this slow torture in any possible way: be it with or without him.

He doesn't answer on your kiss, doesn't flinch or frown. Just sits there with a half smile and looks down on you, not breaking the eye contact for a single moment.

Little did you know, you were never in charge. Every interaction, every smallest chat, every stolen smile, lingering gaze - it was all orchestrated.

König loved the good old hunt, thrived on the outrageous hopelessness with which his prey, without realizing it, rushed towards him. Tinkered little traps, mislead, confused, threaded illusions of one-sided hunger to drive you to absolute desperation for him.

He may have always been the quiet one, but one needs not many words, when he can get anything with the slightest brush of fingers, or an 'occasional' eye contact (and of course he squinted and tilted his head slightly to one side, not because he knew what it does to you).

König gradually let you closer and closer. Tricked you into believing that you're the one who's so fearless to fall for him: a living weapon of mass destruction. An absolute menace, turning friendly and smiling around you.

Little did you know, poor thing, little did you know... Until the trap was shut.

His hands barely touch your waist as if he was protecting you from falling off his lap, he doesn't try to pull you closer. You understand, that it is the end of you: he didn't react to your touch, kept silent, his heart was still and calm.

Blush washes over your face. "I'm sorry, König. Oh fuck, this is embarrassing. I didn't mean to... No, I actually meant, but not that. Sorry, I better shut up and leave you be. I promise, this won't happen ever again."

Your babbling amuses him. No, he doesn't want to harm your feelings or bully you, he knows exactly, what is going to happen very soon, but he can't help but indulge in those last moments of your alleged freedom.

It's when you try to pull away, you feel his hands clasp around your waist. "Who said, I don't want this to happen again?" His voice is quiet, lower than usual. Like honey from the Tyrolean forests, it covers your mind with a thick golden veil of lust.

You can't think straight, can't believe your own ears, and yet you dare not resist when he pulls you closer, letting you touch his lips again. Another lingering kiss.

But this time his smile widens. "Nochmal*," he purrs and lets out a low chuckle, when he sees your puzzled expression.

Don't worry, he will make sure you have enough opportunities to learn every single phrase, he might want you to understand and use on your own. He won't translate anything to you though - showing is always better than telling!

So he lets you kiss him once more. "Nochmal". And again. "Nochmal". And again... Till his tongue lazily rolls past your lips.

He tastes you like the most precious drink. Sip after sip, until you lay beneath him, trembling of need.

"My little sunshine, bearing so much love for me... Was it hard to dream of my touch every other night? Did it hurt, when you clenched around your thin, fragile fingers, fantasizing, how good can I make you feel in comparison?" You can't tell if he is genuinely concerned or just loves to fluster you that much.

And don't you even think to look away for a moment, to take a break and collect your thoughts - he'll grab your face while kissing you only to make his point: eyes on him until he commands otherwise.

Yes, commands come too pretty quickly in your life. But how can he possibly resist, when you're so eager to do anything, he lets you doing?

"You may moan into my mouth, meine Süße*, I don't mind some music*" While his fingers are knuckle deep in you. And moan do you, his sweet obedient angel.

He doesn't rush anything and more than happy to please you with his fingers and tongue first couple of times. This may come off as pretty humble, but he in fact just waits, till you are desperate enough to beg him to fuck you properly.

Poor thing too desperate, flustered and overwhelmed... Of course, he would fuck you absolutely incoherent if you ask nicely. He has such a soft spot for your wet eyes, he'd make you go limp, your eyes rolling back, little whimpers leaving your lips with every thrust, as he holds your hips tightly picking up the pace. Fucking your fears and anxieties away. Making you feel high.

Lots of reassurance, praise and confessions. Constantly. Even in the most extreme moments. "Who are you, little sunshine?" "Your fucktoy." "...and?" "Your treasure..." "Gu-u-u-utes Mädchen*... and?" "Love of your life?" "Liebe meines Lebens*."

*Nochmal - once again *meine Süße - my sweet one *Gu-u-u-utes Mädchen - go-o-o-od girl *Liebe meines Lebens - love of my life

[beetlejuicyy]

Eraser | Ryomen Sukuna x reader

1. Ultimatum

Summary: modern!Sukuna has a tattoo of your name on his chest that he wants to get rid of. Can he, though?

Warnings: gaslighting, toxicity, mentions of cheating

Word count: 2,254

Series masterlist:

1. Ultimatum

2. Wash Away

3. Only Memories

4. Vengeance

Read on AO3

Notes: this idea popped in my head very randomly while I was listening to a song and it screamed modern day Sukuna so here it is

General Masterlist | Divider @rookthornesartistry

“I want it gone.” Sukuna said, already irritated.

“Are you sure? Covering it up would be way easier.” If this bastard kept talking, Sukuna would rather cut his own skin and get the job done faster.

“I want it gone from my skin.” He growled and the guy quickly went back to the computer to search for an appointment date.

“Any other guy wouldn’t have treated you as well as I did!” Sukuna spat back as if that was supposed to fix something.

You sat down on the floor of your bedroom, back resting against the bed. You were tired of yelling and screaming. He would never allow himself to articulate the word love, not even in this fight that was about to end your relationship for good.

“Really? What else is there to be done? Fuck another girl in my own bed?” You replied sarcastically and he groaned in frustration.

You just couldn’t understand. He warned you that the wasn’t he goodie two shoes compliant man going to a 9 to 5 and talking about finance or computer science like your previous flings. He was running an underground illegal business and networking was the most important thing if you wanted to end up on top. Sukuna reiterated these things many times, as if they could overcome the indescribable magnetic pull you felt towards him. He shouldn’t have flirted with you so confidently and insistently if he never planned to let you in. But you eagerly nodded, dismissing all his warnings, all of Yuuji's, his little brother’s warnings that predicted exactly this moment. When you would find out he made out with another woman in a random club at 1:30AM while you obediently ate your vanilla ice cream and binge watched netflix.

“For the last time, woman!” He yelled, his hoarse voice coming from his throat filled the quiet room. “I didn’t fuck her!”

He was sitting in the doorframe of your bedroom, looking at your pathetic form on the floor. Head supported in your hands, your tangled long hair falling over your face. He had been banging on your front door for half an hour before you agreed to open it. He had smoked cigarette after cigarette, trying to relieve some of the stress. When you finally opened the front door to let him in, all the snarky remarks he had prepared faded away. Your eyes were swollen because of crying, the hems of your sleeping t-shirt, his t-shirt, wet with tears. He followed you back to your room, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk in, seeing you like this. Yelling and cursing at each other was easy, but resisting the sight of your pain was harder than anything he had ever done.

“Oh, yeah sure.” He couldn’t see your face because it was covered by your palms but he knew you rolled your eyes. “First you make out with her and then wait until she throws herself at you. Funny thing, worked on me.” Your voice was strained from all the yelling. Your energy had been used up almost entirely. Now all that was left was a bitter, quiet tone.

“I knew that little brat was too young to get involved in these things.” He mumbled more to himself. He pulled at the knot of his black tie. It was already lose enough. He was suffocating.

“Yuuji didn’t tell me.” You laughed. You were so tired of all of it. Your head fell back on the bed and you looked at the ceiling, as if the answer to your problems was written there for you to read. You didn’t need to see his handsome face to know one eyebrow was cocked in surprise. Damn his face and his black shirt and his perfectly tailored pants and his tattoos. “A private number sent me a video.” Sukuna’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek in frustration. “You could call it networking.”

He sighed. It was on video. All he could do was walk up to you, crouch down on the floor and try to resist the urge to touch you. You looked so beautifully devastated at 3:42 AM, only in your panties and one of his t-shirts, pretty legs sprawled on the floor, neck exposed just waiting for his teeth to sink in. But you already thought he was disgusting. It would only make things worse to admit that this sight of you turned him on.

“They’re trying to get to me, can’t you see?” Sukuna’s voice had never been so calm, so quiet. It was deep and throaty, coming from the utmost effort and consideration he held in his large body. “They know how important you are to me.” You only half smiled, as if he said something supposedly funny.

How come you didn’t know how important you were to him? How come he never told you how he felt about you? How come anytime you would seek reassurance from him you would end up in a sexual circumstance? He would tell you that you’re pretty, beautiful, sexy. He would make you feel like a goddess when he would touch you. And you would fall for it most of the time. But never, not once, express his feelings, his sincere and most vulnerable feelings towards you. You couldn’t do that for the both of you anymore. Sukuna seemed to understand the lack of trust from your silence, from the curled corner of your mouth forming a sad half smile, from your empty eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

“I needed information, y/n.” The sleeves of his shirt were folded up to his elbows, a strong smell of cigarettes deeply impregnated in the fabric. You raised your head from the mattress to look at him, bloodshot piercing eyes staring at you closely. “It’s the easiest way of doing it.”

“Yeah, actually you’re right. I need a Prada bag I’ll just make out with the security guy and he’ll give it to me.”

“I can buy it for you.”

Slap.

Sukuna didn’t expect it. The stinging sensation your palm left across his cheek burned deeper than the surface of his skin. It burned inside his heart. He didn’t look back at you. He kept his face turned away, so you could see how the skin changed into a pinkish color, more vibrant than the pink of his hair. Sukuna took a deep breath, licking his lips, trying to find a way to contain himself.

“I knew you had been a manwhore before. But I really thought, I really wanted you to respect me.” Your words cut sharper than any slap could. Your voice was getting louder and shakier with every word, anger and misery mixed in a pitiful sound. “I was stupid to think you would really care.”

“I do.” He said between his gritted teeth.

“You don’t. You just proved it tonight.”

“I told you multiple times.” He placed both of his hands on either side of your frame at the edge of the bed. The smell of his musky high end perfume mixed with cigarettes and a slight scent of alcohol as he spoke intoxicated you. You couldn’t avoid him. “This is what I do, take it or leave it. You said you’re fine with it.”

“You’re saying it’s my fault?” Suddenly you became very aware of the fact that you were covered in minimal clothing and the way he was looking at you, that mix of anger and frustration, his clenched jaw, his soft lips, they all made you want to stop fighting.

“I’m saying you’re exaggerating.”

“You really want me to slap you again.”

“Only if you can bear the consequences.”

You pushed your knees against his body, trying to break away from the cage of his muscular arms at your sides, keeping you prisoner. He didn’t even flinch. You kicks became stronger and more desperate, fighting against him while he did absolutely nothing to you. Sukuna looked at you in surprise, not expecting to be pushed away like this. Usually it took him a few intimidating looks and some sugarcoated words to make you forget that you were mad at him.

No more gaslighting.

No more forgiveness without an apology.

No more loving by yourself for the both of you.

“What the fuck are you doing, y/n?!” He asked in a raspy voice, placing large hands on your bare thighs and forcing them flat against the floor. But now you pushed him away with your arms, although your hands weren’t sure if they should cling to his shirt and pull him close or push him away from you.

“You don’t love me!” Your voice broke and you started crying, salty tears rolling down your flushed cheeks.

You just did it. You said that one thing that had been eating you from inside out for so long, that thing that you were so afraid of voicing out loud. You stopped struggling altogether. Sukuna’s heart broke. He always thought he could get away with his way of living, even after getting into this relationship. You would understand. You would forgive. You would know nobody else meant shit and you were the most important person to him.

“I have you right here, silly.” He said, his hand gesturing to his chest. He was referring to the tattoo he got a couple months ago, a small addition to his collection, your name right above his heart. You were never into this kind of things but he came up with the idea and you guessed you were important enough to him to be part of the story on his skin.

“You can always cover it up.” You said, unable to understand that this was his way of saying I love you, his way of carrying you in his heart at all times. “But what about my heart? I can't cover that up.” You brought your knees to your chest, hugging them with your arms, resting your forehead on top of them. You were so small, so frail. Sukuna used to think you were a strong soul but it seemed that you were more vulnerable than you showed. He had just broken you. Continuously hit your seemingly indestructible outer layer, like a glass that cracked more and more with time, until it shattered completely tonight. He wanted to hug you, to comfort you, to reassure you. But you only wanted one thing. He knew the only thing that would give him a chance would be to say three simple words. And he couldn’t bring himself to say them. So he just sat there on the floor with you, while you sobbed your pain away. The strong and mighty Ryomen Sukuna whom so many people feared was reduced to silence by a woman.

“Go away, Sukuna.” You said when your sobs quieted down, your tears ran dry and your mind started to clear out. You rose your eyes to look at him, still standing in front of you. “Go away!” You said, louder this time, like trying to get a dog to stop following you.

“Do you really want me to leave, you brat?” He asked, hoping that you would change your mind in the last minute.

“Get the fuck out!” You yelled, grabbing whatever your hand found closest to you and throwing it in his direction. It was his pack of cigarettes that was now half empty. It hit him right in his chest before falling miserably on the floor. He didn’t even feel it.

Sukuna had been trying to get in contact with you for the past two weeks. Work had him busy and exhausted all the time but not enough to forget that you weren’t answering his calls, weren’t replying his messages. You even got rid of the airtag he had given you to know your location at all times for safety. He pestered his little brother Yuuji to talk to you but he kept saying you weren’t answering him either. The brat was lying, he knew it. These two weeks had passed excruciatingly slow for Sukuna. It seemed like you had given up on him completely. In an attempt to tend to his shattered ego, given that all hope was gone for his broken heart, he decided to get rid of the tattoo of your name on his chest. He wasn’t going to cover it, like you said. He was going to remove it for good.

“You have to sign here aaand here.” The guy at the reception handed him a pen for the paperwork. Sukuna was just about to sign when his phone rang. When he saw the picture of his little brother on the screen his heart skipped a beat. He was so pathetic. He really hoped Yuuji had some news about you.

“I’m busy, what is it?”

“Uhm, it’s about y/n.” Yuuji’s voice was hesitant, like he still wasn’t sure he was supposed to share this information.

“What about y/n?” Sukuna was growing impatient.

“I think… I think she might be going on a date.” Sukuna’s vision darkened. The grip on his phone was so tight his knuckles turned white.

“Not on my fucking watch.” He muttered between his teeth. “Send me the location.” He turned on his heels in a second, walking out of the building with rushed angry steps.

“Uhm, sir? Your appointment?” The guy at the reception yelled, confused.

“I ain’t removing shit!” He yelled back as he reached his motorcycle. Yuuji had already sent him your location.

《previous Ascension | next》 2. Wash Away

True Form! Sukuna x Reader

[ventismacchiato]

40.5 behind the lens — fuck me like i’m famous !

BONUS CHAPTER 🔞 NSFW

content warnings — semi public sex, hickeys, biting, blowjobs, untouched cumming, degrading, leashes, grinding, oral sex, top scara

word count: ~2.4k

notes; my attempt at gender neutral smut, when he’s fucking you it can be…ykw either 🐱 or 🍑…wtv u want! 🤞

no plot just porn so feel free to skip this chapter

That Friday would have been a normal stream like any other week. Your camera was on, the game loaded and ready to go as you talked to your chat. It was going great as usual.

Well, apart from Scaramouche eating you out from underneath your desk.

“Thank you for the donation,” you smiled, albeit strained. Your sweats had been tugged off, bare thighs against the cushion of your gaming seat as Scara’s head was buried in your sex. His tongue working around it caused obscene sounds, which forced you to raise your voice to try and drown him out. Everytime his tongue slid across your soaking sex it caused your legs to tremble ever so slightly.

You let one hand wander under your desk, your nails digging into his scalp to reward him as he moves his lips off your sex and towards your inner thigh. At this point you were biting your lips as you tried to focus on your stream, a heat pooling in your stomach as Scara quickly lifted your legs to rest on his shoulders.

You had to hide your gasp as your knees almost hit the bottom of your desk, his warm tongue working its way back onto your sex. His cheeks, which were usually so pale, were now flushed red as he looked up at you. A bit of spit had spilled out from the corner of his lips as he sucked on your sex, wet sounds almost failing to be concealed by your nervous laughs.

Impatience grew between the both of you as you could feel yourself getting closer. The ring hanging on Scara’s lips felt cold against your sex as he tilted his head, gathering more access to you.

“I think I’ll have to end the stream early today,” you swallow, “I’m not feeling too good.”

You bit the inside of your cheek as a wave of responses came in, your fans wishing you well as you bid farewell. After a few minutes you shut the camera off and looked down at the sight before you.

“Can I have you now?” Scara asked, a lazy grin adorning his face as he removed your legs from his shoulders and came out from underneath the desk. He unceremoniously discarded his pants and belt as he did so, wiping your pre-cum from his lips.

Your expression was nothing short of captivated as Scaramouche slid into your lap, knees on either side of your thighs. It’s a tight fit on the leather chair, but it’s hard to care when his hands grab your waist to steady himself and god , they’re so slender and firm as he slides them underneath your shirt.

A moan easily slipped out of your lips, proving your sensitivity to his touch as Scara smirked at your reaction.

“Be quiet baby, don’t want anyone to hear this, yeah?” he murmured, tapping on your chest.

“Shut up,” you huffed, hands slipping around his waist to steady Scara.

“Watch,” he instructs, taking your hands off his waist as he makes his way to unbutton the top of his shirt.

You lean back obediently, moving to keep your hands on the arm rests but you couldn’t control your fingers from twitching as Scara slides the button-up off his shoulders, collarbone on display for you.

Your stomach churns as the sight of Scara teasing the hem of his top, his hand sneaking underneath all while maintaining eye contact with you before finally letting it fall off.

You breathe out audibly through your nose. Scara sitting atop your bare legs was almost enough for you to cum right then and there.

“Scara,” you whine, “This is unfair.”

“Watch.”

So you did.

Scaramouche was always snarky and playful when you both grew overly competitive while playing video games, but now he moved diligently, not letting you get a single touch.

He moves his head down and brings your hand to his lips. You both make brief eye contact before his lips meet your palm, trailing kisses alongside it before bringing your index and middle finger into his mouth.

Your gaze hardened as he swirled his tongue around them and pulled his lips back, a trail of saliva in his wake.

You’d had enough of just watching by then, moving your hand from his grasp to grab the back of Scara’s neck before you tug him close. Your eyes meet for a second before your lips do. His kisses weren’t gentle but they weren’t rough, it was possessive to an extent and it had you tugging on his dark locks rather harshly.

The position was awkward on the small chair with your bodies angled towards one another, but that didn’t matter since all you could focus on was the pair of lips moving against your own.

He pulls back, sucking on your bottom lip as he did so.

“How bad do you want this?” he mused, his voice a shadow of his usual condescending tone.

“Please,” you breathe, a heat pooling in your stomach as Scaramouche pulls off your shirt with expertise. It had you a bit envious to see him do it so quickly but that feeling dispersed when you felt Scara’s warm hand palm your chest as he took his cock out, now sitting ready against his stomach.

Without warning he shoves his fingers roughly into your mouth, the tips of his fingers just reaching the back of your throat.

“Spit,” he ordered, his dick still sitting straight up.

It was odd being given orders for once but you didn’t push it away as you did what you were told. Once again, a string of saliva left your lips as he pulled his fingers away. Instead of bringing it to your hole immediately, he brought it to his lips, his tongue licking around his own fingers and the remnants of your saliva while maintaining eye contact.

Within a blink, his fingers were inside you and your body surged with pain as two fingers went in and out of you. Your hands gripped the seat’s armrests as Scaramouche didn’t show you mercy and quickened his pace, his head coming down to suck the skin on your neck.

You bucked your hips up as Scara’s fingers went in and out, matching your rhythm. Your right hand found Scaramouche’s back as you steadied himself, dragging your nails across it as you did so.

Your neck was littered with his marks as he lifted his head once more, inserting a third finger with a gleam in his eyes.

Your sweats and underwear were pooled by your feet and you felt on display as your camera was only a few feet away, but you didn’t care at all as the pain seamlessly transformed to pleasure.

You reached down to use your free hand to pump his cock, body jerking this way and that as Scara had to keep himself steady which only made you go faster.

“I didn’t say you could do that,” Scaramouche teased, lifting his lips from your neck and removing your hands from his cock. He removed his fingers from your hole, much to your dismay, and dragged them along your cheek, your own juices staining your face.

“Stay still like the good whore you are,” Scara hummed, inserting his fingers once more, you could only buck your hips up in desperation for any friction. You could feel your hole tighten around Scaramouche’s fingers and a feeling rise from your lower region.

“I’m gonna cum, Scara,” you groaned, the material of the leather chair digging into your skin. Your eyes fell shut as you felt Scara slow down his pace.

“I can't have you do that so quickly,” your boyfriend murmured, removing his fingers slick with your insides and moving away.

Scara removed himself from your lap and got down on his knees once again to spread your legs open.

“Have to prepare your tight hole,” he murmured, voice muffled as his head was in between your legs. You felt his tongue slide up your thigh, leaving a trail of kisses until Scara reached your hole. His tongue swirled the edge, slowly and knowingly, as you let out a cry of pleasure. The feeling only increased when Scara traced a wet circle around the rim just before he dipped his tongue in.

Before you could release right then and there he removed his mouth from your hole and sat back up, crawling atop you and lining his cock with your hole.

“Fuck,” Scara groaned as he slid in, his cock inside you. The tip of his hard cock made contact with your entrance, unprotected.

Scara let himself simply sit inside you as you grew used to the feeling, not thrusting just to edge you even more.

“Are you gonna be good for me and be loud?” Scara asked, taking his belt from the floor of your room and snaking it around your neck. “Hm?”

“Yes,” you whimpered as Scara clasped the belt around your neck. He grabbed the loose end and used it as a leash to tug on it and bring your head closer to him.

“Good,” he praised, one hand on the belt and the other on your waist, “Nice and loud.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond before Scara was pulling out only to slam right back in again. He rocks back and forth as he does so, his nails digging into your bare waist. It was difficult to control yourself when Scara was buried so deeply inside of you.

You moaned in arpeggios as Scaramouche lifted himself out of you once again, his tip trailing the inside of your thigh only to thrust back into you again. It was rough and harsh, just like you both preferred it to be.

“I’m gonna fill you up at this rate,” Scara muttered, causing you to buck up your hips to meet Scara’s with every thrust, “You’re ruining me.”

Your head was tugged from the belt Scara held in his hands, your faces a mere inch away from each other when Scara locked your lips together. You felt the taste of metal as Scara’s tongue explored your mouth, the knowledge of the male above you having a new piercing only fueled your desire.

You could feel your orgasm nearing, your hole was tightening around Scara’s dick. You were just a hole at that moment and would let him do whatever he wanted to you at that point. The sounds of skin on skin filled the room as he kept slamming into you.

You pulled back, a string of saliva connecting your guys’ lips as Scara’s head tilted back.

“I’m gonna fill you up to the brim,” was the last thing you heard as Scaramouche rode out his orgasm. Your hole clenched as you felt warmth ooze inside of you, causing your eyes to fall shut and legs to tremble.

Scara slowly pulled his cock out of your entrance, cum spilling out as he wrapped his palm around his cock to get the excess cum off. Once Scara’s fingers were covered in white he reached up to shove his fingers into your swollen lips.

You were in a daze as you tasted Scara upon your tongue, swallowing every last bit as your lover tucked his cock back into his pants before looking down at your lower region.

“I can’t allow your filthy cum to get on your nice seat,” Scara slurred as he leaned towards you while inserting two of his fingers once again into your hole, “It cost far too much, how would I explain that to the cleaners?”

Scaramouche snickered as he pushed in the cum threatening to spill out of you with his fingers, “Would I tell them my little slut creamed all over it?”

You cried out at the overstimulation instead of responding, not like you would be able to since your mind was clouded. Scara’s words only sent trembles up your spine and down to your sex which was even wetter if possible.

“Excited…again? Already?” Scara asked, looming over you, “Didn’t know the Stardust was so easy?”

“Please,” you whined, wanting to finish yourself off, the stimulation was too much, even for you.

“You didn’t get to cum yet, think of this as your reward,” Scara said, removing his fingers and grinding against your sex.

Scara’s hips moved fast and it didn’t take much for you to release right into Scara’s lap. You were ashamed at how quickly it had taken you but your boyfriend just had that effect on you.

“A little pathetic at how quickly you came,” Scara scoffed, dragging his palms sullied with your cum across your bare chest, “Are you that much of a whore?”

You could only nod as the sticky substance dripped along his skin, your sex drained as Scara cleaned off his fingers, each one leaving a resounding pop. He dragged his fingers across your chest and swirled them around your nipples, moistening them before pulling back.

“I think you should sit in your mess until your next stream,” Scara teased, reaching down to grab his boxers and pants that were pooled on the ground and hoisting them back on.

You swallowed as Scara pulled your sweats up your legs and tied them for you. You could feel your wet sex against the fabric of your underwear. You were still full of Scaramouche’s cum and it felt warm as you squirmed around in your seat.

Unlike the sex they just had, Scaramouche was gentle with the way he undid the belt adorning your neck and rubbed at the red ring now encircling your neck from it. It had left red marks along with the love bites littering your skin. It felt sore but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“Sorry,” Scara apologized as he did so, trailing his fingers against your neck then proceeding to grab your top from the ground, “Looks like it’ll take a while to heal.”

“Don’t be, I quite liked it,” you assured as you pulled the shirt over yourself as Scara pulled you off your chair. Your legs felt weak as he did so but Scara caught you and left a short kiss on your lips.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Scara drawled as he pulled you close, his lips now by your ear.

“Shower?” he murmured, and you could hear the smirk on his face.

“Fine,” you huffed, pushing him off of you,

“But now it's my turn to do what I want.”

behind the lens !

masterlist — prev | next

author’s notes — i didnt know how to end it 🤞 hope u enjoyed it sorry it’s kinda freaky and i beta read it myself so ignore any mistakes if any. also stop asking for updates! writing is my hobby! go touch some grass! also probably 1-2 chapters left depending on how i feel xx

synopsis — you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

taglist is closed — @captainzep @elysiumarchieve @plinkuro @sakkakuu-squared @eliqusgenma @vuvulia @kunikuzushiit @ins4nebish @stxrgxzxr @lilacponds @uma-umie @mitsukifilms @caesars-bubbles @wheneverthesunrise @its-like-twilight @kazuhalvrr @erosdevil @thenightsflower @p1utto @noodleshark420 @lxry-chxn @court-jester-stuff @lauragalliart @veyu002 @kaeyas-eyepatch-69 @leathernourishingshoepolish @courtneydefender @drunkwithfever @exhaustedcommunist @vincanzu @ainlaw @ovaliz @kitsuvil @whatamidoing89 @celestair @kunihaver @kazioli @xiaosoneandonly @cridtiins @cherrybeomgyu @asukahiriko @moon-320 @orionicchaos @cartierfiles [1/3]

[lumilovessmut]

Spring Heat - Zhongli x Traveller!FemReader

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Credits : @seofim on Twitter

TW: Breeding, creampie, penetration, mentions of pregnancy, established relationship.

A/n: sorry this is short, will try make more quality content.

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All that could be heard is skin slapping against skin, your pretty and pathetic moans and whimpers and his godly groans. Zhongli your husband being part dragon does nothing but bring trouble to you in spring. His relentless thrusts and you gushing around him makes his head go in a frenzy and your scent tickled his nose, he wanted to breed you, wanted to start a family with you.

"Ahhhh- y/n you feel so good, so good. My good girl and pretty and obedient baby, I wanna make you a mommy can I pretty please, I will make sure I be a good husband and a good dad, can I? Can I please...." whatever Zhongli was telling nothing went into your small head, too fucked out on cock and all you heard was breed. Zhongli suddenly halted his moments, "baby look at me, I SAID LOOK AT ME! If I am going to breed you, I need your consent baby, think and tell otherwise I am ready to wait for you." Your fogged up mind slowly clearing. "Is it fine, with you?" You asked in a quiet voice. "Yes darling, whatever you want is what I want"," Then can I have your babies?" You could feel his cock throb inside of you. "Of course my love, I will make sure that when you leave this bed there will be a child in you." He said while suddenly thrusting into you.

You guys had been going at it for 6 hours, archons only knew how many times you came. He came inside you again and again, the sheets were a mess. Almost all fluids were gone from your body, tears, your cum and his cum, drool.... Zhongli loved the look on your face, he has always wanted to start a family with and seeing families together when coming back from work did not help this thoughts in the slightest, it was spring festival, you and Zhongli had decided to go there, when he came home the sight of you made him go into heat. Wearing a simple turquoise and baby blue hanfu, watering the herbs on the kitchen window sill, the evening light falling on your face, and then you turned and saw him, a small smile unintentionally formed on your face upon seeing his arrival.

He sweared to himself and kissed your lips until they were swollen. "Zhongli- ahh tooo much can't anymore please I- you, ca-can't anymore..." "It's okay, darling, one more round just- fuck one last time, baby one last fat load and then we are done I beg you, fuck--" He released inside you once again unintentionally making you cum again, scratches littered his back and his baby hair stuck to his forehead.

He saw the bulge of your stomach, and rubbed it thinking just how swollen you will be once your and his child starts developing in there, he slowly and gently kissed your tummy then your eyes and then your lips, "darling sorry if I went a little hard on you, I am sure to take care of you and our child, don't worry for now rest peacefully I will clean you up." He carried you, with that you started drifting of to sleep but before you did you whispered with whatever strength was left, "I love Zhongli." He smiled and nuzzled in the crook of your neck, "I love you too, the both of you." That night Zhongli for sure knew a life was being created in you and he promised himself to protect the both you from any danger.

✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.✧°.

Hello all, this is my first ever post on tumblr! This is a fic from my Wattpad story.....you guys can follow me there also for more genshin impact stories!!!

Love you all!

[emchante]

smutty mechanic!daniel ricciardo drabble ⋆˙⟡

smutty mechanic daniel under the cut, as me and @thef1diary have been losing our minds and this.. just spiralled. expect a full-fledged fic of this sometime next month. and of course— minors dni.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he pants into your ear, each word punctuated by his thrusts. “anyone could walk in here— watching me pound right into you, over someone else’s car. desperate and whining for me,” he teases you in a low whisper, fingers digging into the skin of your hips as he pulls you back to meet his movements.

a low chuckle escapes his lips at your reaction to his words. “you like that, don’t you? knowing you’re doing something so wrong out in public.. such a bad girl, letting me fuck you on some random car.. like you belong to me.”

his bare chest is glistening with sweat, pressed up against your back. the hairs on his chest rub against your soft skin and it just adds to the pleasure. “tell me how good i feel inside you, sweetheart,” he asks you, his voice is deep yet quiet; his accent stronger than ever. “don’t hold back. let them hear how much you need me.”

daniel’s grip tightened on you, calloused fingertips leaving imprints on your skin as he set his relentless pace. his movements were rough but calculated, each thrust with the intention of electing a reaction from you— moans that escape involuntarily, your body betraying your restraint. he leaned in even closer, lips brushing against your ear as he groaned your name.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he murmured with a smirk, his breathing shallow as he pushed deeper. “bent over this car like it’s your own.. like we’re at your place.. letting me have you any way i want.” his tone was filled with possession, almost as if claiming you in every sense of the word. “is this what you wanted, sweetheart? to be fucked and degraded where anyone could walk in? i’d love to call you my good girl,” he started, biting your earlobe— drawing another moan from you— before continuing. “but we know that’s far from the truth, hm?”

one of his hands moved from his hips to your lower back, pressing you down firmly in place as he continued to quicken his thrusts. his other hand slid up your front, rough fingers slowly dragging across your breasts and peaked nipples, before landing at its destination— your throat. his fingers slightly tightened around it, not too tight of course, but enough so there was slight pressure, which you enjoyed.

the pressure of his large hand around your throat went right to your core, and you felt how harshly it was throbbing. his fingers curled firmly, holding you steady by the throat and still pushing down on your back, and the pace became almost punishing. the weight of his body, the smell of motor oil mixed with the hint of cologne— it was overwhelming, and it made you dizzy with need.

the growl that escaped him sent shivers down your spine, and a whimper fell from your lips. “look at you,” he taunted, licking his lips as he admired the sight. “gasping and whining like you can’t get enough.. such pretty sounds coming from you. do you have any idea how fucking got you look right now? taking everything i give you..” he trailed off, grunting as he continued to fuck into you. “being so obedient for me, hm?”