#frothing at the fucking mouth . I am so. CLOSE

[designernishiki]

status update on my mission to 100% and platinum yakuza 0: completion list is at 99.2% and would’ve been finished today if not for pool (carom/combo shots- i made enough money from it though) and batting. my most significant peaks today were probably beating both so and jo amon on the first try miraculously and at one point i got like 34 points in expert koikoi

#if anyone has any advice on pool or batting feel free to tell me because boy am I struggling #and I’m so……so close #oh forgot to mention it but I also did all the climax battles I can for the time being- so a little over half of them maybe? #cant do the rest til I go through the finale and all that #frothing at the fucking mouth . I am so. CLOSE #y0 #rambling #I think I actually like koikoi a little better than oichi kabu ngl. but maybe im just saying that cause I got lucky with koikoi #I do think I’m genuinely okay at it cause like I started to memorize the high point cards and the main hands (especially the high point #but still doable ones like moon viewing and boar/deer/butterfly) and yea worked towards those with my Choices #but still I wouldn’t say I’m Great at it either #not as confident with it as I am with mahjong #but no shit. I played mahjong for like three days straight where as koikoi I maybe spent two or three hours total on #eh actually maybe more like 1-2 hours. took me way less time than oichi kabu #anyway. very very close to 100% completion but still got a bit to go til I can platinum the game since I gotta #go back and do the main story again on legend mode and all that #the finale won’t take long considering I’m crazy maxed out in stats and weapons and all that but going through on legend mode + the rest #of the climax battles will probably be a bit more intensive #really honestly impressed with myself on the Amon fights. like. a month ago I would absolutely assume I’d have to have my friend do those #fights for me cause they’re fucking insane and both have 14 health bars or something like that. but I’ve grown. I’ve learned. i best them #MYSELF. and on HARD at that. very glad I did a ton of shit at the coliseum cause that helped train up for the Amons a Lot. #ok time to shut up and sleep

[moe-broey]

Screaming crying throwing up curled up on yhe floor sobbing weeping ect ect I miss them SO much (PNGs with voice lines that live in my phone that I can look at any time)

#FINALLY picked up engage again and collected all the dlc emblems (from both waves) #saved veronica for last bc i knew she'd be the one i'd be the most autistic about #i love her she's SO funny. chronic baby disease. insisting we're working for her actually. #completely out of touch with her own emotions (FELT). #bloodlust. #she really does have the funniest combination of traits and i love that for her #but MAN..... her map and her EXISTING as a 3d model ON A CONSOLE GAME..... #getting this TINY glimpse into what askr/embla would look like in a 3d space........ (feel like the map is more modeled after askr?) #i feel so fucking rabid about it. frothing at the mouth. i am SO normal (LYING THROUGH CLENCHED TEETH) #i'm just imagining a perfect world where we also have emblem alfonse and sharena in a bracelet together. #i KNOW sharena would get shafted but indulge me. do not separate them first of all. #and second i just think it would be insanely interesting actually???? like. how is alfonse coping. #i think becoming a jewelry ghost would be on the top ten list of worst things to happen to him specifically #i think he'd put his all into serving whoever has him as now this is his responsibility. he is just as closed off as ever though #if not worse having to go through centuries of losing anyone he'd accidentally make any connection with #sharena is probably the only reason he's somewhat sane. she grounds him. #and also sharena???? ohhh i think there is SO much potential there!! she is always SO eager to hopefully befriend -- #anyone who finds their bracelet. #i think being trapped in a bracelet has had the opposite effect on her. her desire for outside connection #and friendship only gets stronger. i think the loneliness stings more. #and i think having them together like. HUGE potential to put them side by side and see how they really do parallel each other #same issues different ways of coping. different reactions. i think their engage skill would reflect this. somehow. #also i think they'd both look soooo cute in the engage artstyle 😭😭😭😭 #what the fuck ever. explode 💥💥💥

[boytoycowboy]

i’m gonna maim my next door neighbor.

#wakes me up every fucking morning at 6 AM. which has no progressed to her waking me up at 3:30 AM apparently #banged on the wall and she in the most obnoxious tone said ‘sORry’ like IM the unreasonable one. #is she wakes me up again at 6 AM upu better believe i am busting through that wall like the fucking kool aid man and taking NO prisoners #WHO ARE YOU EVEN CALLING AT 3:30??? IF ANY OF MY FRIENDS DID THAT AND THEY WEREN’T ACTIVELY DYING OR IN TROUBLE I WOULD KILL THEM #same with if you call me at 6 AM to have a friendly chat. like i will eviscerate you #t talks #my day has not gotten better in case you were wondering. #BONUS she woke me up at 6 AM last week talking shit about me. when i can hear every fucking word. and then got upset when i didn’t really #speed up the process of getting her her jersey for the club sport we both play. #crazy how that works. #frothing at the mouth like a rabid dog rn #so fucking close to asking bobby for his sub woofer so i can rock her shit.

[sanemisstalker]

Incel! Gyutaro, but it's a modern western college! au and you whip him into shape real fast. My ex won't talk to me, so I'm very much fantasizing about a man that will be obsessive over me ---> gyutaro NSFW

CW// Fem reader / AFAB genitalia / Breasted Reader / INCEL MENTALITIES : Sexism, Poly Hate / BDSM dynamics/ Implied ED (Gyutaro is a gym junkie who should definitely be eating more) / SH / Men's Mental Health / Inconsistent POV because I'm writing this with my hand down my pants (I am joking)

PART TWO <-

-You go to community College with him. He's some fucking dude in your necessary math course they wouldn't let you drop. He sits next to you in the booths.

-He's not awful looking. He's got some weird scars across his face, but like, they're kind of artsy. They add a flare the guy would be lacking otherwise.

-His vibe is a little... weird. He doesn't talk in class ever. You see him around campus and he doesn't seem... at all versed in social interaction. You once watched him get into a fight, which was a little sexy, but since it was with Tengen Uzui, your eyes were much more interested in the latter.

-Gyutaro is used to that though. Never being the one looked at. Typical of women like you. You're always frothing at the mouth over fucking Chad's like Tengen- He got it. Tengen was built, strong jawed, and just reeked of sex appeal wherever he walked. He always had the glaze of one of those five sluts he hung out with on his lips-

-Tengen was lucky. He's apparently been training since he was young- to look like a Greek God and all. Gyutaro spent the first years of his life fighting to survive in a hospital, and then every year after fighting to live in his home safely.

-and girls like you- sluts like you were always going to favour Tengen. Always assholes.

-After that fight, you began speaking to Gyutaro. You didn't come onto the topic immediately- you didn't want to pry- So You'd mention his shirt.

-'Is that Death Cab For Cutie?' His heart dropped when you spoke. He didn't even register you were talking about his shirt.

-'Are... Are you talking to me?' He'd croak. His voice was quite nice. Soft, but low.

-'Yeah- Your shirt? That's... That's death cab for cutie, right?'

-'Y-Yeah.'

-As classes rolled by, you came to understand that Gyutaro was a very... disturbed individual. Aside from being generally jumpy and odd, his moral opinions specifically toward women were less than desirable.

-You came to know of his opinions toward Tengen as well. The level of insecurity dripping from every word was palatable... even through the venom.

-He called women 'femoids' and constantly tried to express that Tengen had been given a bigger genetic stick in life. You could never decide if he was referring to Tengen's dick or not.

-You were different, though, He'd assure. You always got what he was saying. Even if you were just letting him mindlessly ramble about his awful, borderline questionable mentalities.

-with said mentalities, you began to realize that Gyutaro was a very easy man. An incredibly easy man. Who was incredibly attracted to every woman he met- but especially you.

-'Gyutaro, have you ever slept with anyone?' You'd ask one day, on the way to the cafeteria. On the few days he chose that over the gym, he'd walk with you. You worried about him, occasionally.

-The question would visibly startle him.

-'I-No. I'm - ha- I'm not... Why?' He'd cut over his own words, face burning.

-'Just curious. You seem all cool, like you get around.' You'd melt a little at that prideful look on his face. How absolutely smitten.

-Maybe the power went to your head, but you began to seek little moments of affirmation from Gyutaro. You'd bend over, a little too close to him- The chronic porn addict. Knowing what it did to him.

-You'd always compliment his shirts- All of his bands incredibly main stream despite his insistence that they weren't.

-You remembered the noise he made when you grabbed his arm in class, once. The teacher had decided to round up the class grade- just barely passing you- and you turned and clung onto his arm, and it was almost like he choked.

-'Hey, Gyutaro, can I come over and study?' You'd pose one day. His face would turn red, a hand flying to his scarred wrist. He itched the skin off- almost always raw.

-'To my- my dorm?'

-'Mhm.'

-'My room isn't-' He'd pause. 'Why? What do you want?' His emotions would flit, unsure of your reasoning. You'd roll your eyes.

-'To hang out? You know? On the one night a week we don't have homework?'

-'Aren't you going to go... party? You do every other weekend.' You found the tang of malice on his tongue adorable. Irritating, but adorable.

'One, I don't party every week. Two, I think you'd be fun to hang out with. What, am I not pretty enough to bring back to your roomate? Am I not allowed in the great and powerful lord Gyutaro's room? ' You'd taunt.

-'N-no. You're pr- no I-'

-'Cool! You live in the good dorms, right?'

-Gyutaro did live in the good dorms. He was also very lucky to be in a one man dorm. Apparently his old roomate, Akaza, had moved out to join a frat.

-Not that you could tell it was a good dorm. The thing was filthy. It smelled like hell, too. Like Gyutaro.

-'I'm sorry for the mess.' He'd grumble. 'I get really busy...'

-'You're fine. Are you a PC gamer?' You'd point to his massive set up.

-'Y-yeah.'

-'Thats cool- ooooh, a Scott Pilgrim poster. I love that movie.' God, you just knew everything, didn't you? All the things girls weren't supposed to like. Gyutaro had been fantasizing about this very moment since you bothered to open your mouth at him. He guessed his work outs had been paying off.

-'Yeah its a good comic, too.'

-The conversation would sway too and frough. Not every really finding a groove. A girl in his room, and he could barely speak to her- you decided to take drastic measures.

-'Hey, Gyutaro, do you want to like do something? Like... a game.' You'd ask, turning to face him.

-'I- um- I have some two players-'

-'Not a game like that.' You'd laugh. He'd quirk an eyebrow. 'I'm like... horny. Like a party game'

-If you'd suddenly fired a gun next to his ear, the effect those words had on Gyutaro would've been the same. He gaped at your bluntness.

-'You're horny?'

-'Yeah... I want to do something... Dirty, I don't know.' You jerked the air off.

-'A-are you gonna leave?' He'd ask, sounding pathetic. 'Do you need me to leave?' What a dumb question, he realized, the second it left his mouth. This was his home, why would he let you jerk off-

-'Do you want to watch? It'd be rude to make you leave.' You completely understood the absurdity of the words coming from your mouth. Every word made Gyutaro's face twist into something akin to... excited disgust. It was fascinating.

-'W-watch?' He didn't understand why he stuttered so much around you.

-'Yeah... Watch? We don't need to like- play like... strip poker or anything. I just want to do something raunchy.'

-'We-we're not dating. You should do that with your boyfriend.'

-'Gyutaro, you know I don't have a boyfriend.' You'd remind. 'Are you scared?'

-'I'm not scared- I-'

-'We're adults. We can do what we want.' His traditionalist mindset was wanning by the word. He wanted you something awful, and here you were, offering to... touch yourself infront of him-

-He'd been leaning on his bed, and you began to creep forward.

-'Do you have any toys?'

-'You mean like vibes?' If his voice wasn't cracking, it was dry. Painfully so. 'I-'

-'Any you haven't put in you?'

-'I'm not into that.' He'd defend. A lie. A painful lie at that. 'I-'

-'Into what?' You'd bring your hand toward the edge of his shirt. He'd begin shaking under your touch. 'No bandaids over your nipples?'

-You'd been so kind and casual to him thus far. Always appreciating his bands and asking about his games. You're eyes had never even fixated on his birthmarks- He never expected you to actually like him-

-'I-I'm not some... some freak.'

-'You think I'm a freak for being into that?' His heart would ache at the sigh in your voice, guilt growing in his stomach as your hand left. 'Sorry, I guess I'll just go back to my dorm.'

-As you turned to leave, Gyutaro would scramble off the bed, eyes blown wide. His foot would knock into an empty can on the floor, and He'd probably tip over some of the comics on his nightstand.

-'Wait-wait!' He'd step over a pile of clothes, and begin rummaging around in the drawer behind his bed.

-His thin hand would come back with a small pink vibe- attached to a thin white wire. You could barely fight back the evil grin on your face as he resurfaced, face just as pink as the vibrator.

-You feigned needing help onto his bed, just so he'd pick you up and set you there. His tenseness was comedic. As you fully situated yourself, Gyutaro just stood, hands in his pockets-

-'Well, come on?' You ushered, nodding to the space between your legs. Gyutaro looked to the spot and then back to you.

-This couldn't be real. You couldn't be fucking real. Even as you spread your legs infront of him, revealing your dripping fucking pussy-- it could not be fucking real. It was too pornographic. You couldn't be serious- Any second you'd snap your legs shut, realize how fucking disgusting he was- how worthless and weird- and you'd spit on him, get up, and leave-

-But you didn't. You pressed the vibe to your clit and Gyutaro watched in awe as your pussy clenched around nothing. Begging, pleading for a cock to fill you, just like all the forums said it would.

-You swore you heard him whimper- gasp- Feeling all powerful under his watchful eye. You were very pleased to find he was bulging through his sweats, a small wet patch already forming.

-He wouldn't be able to get over how fucking wet you were. How good your pussy responded to the vibrations, how good you looked when you craved dick-

-'You should... Your hard on looks like it hurts.'

-Fuck, everything hurt. Your voice made his balls ache, begging for release. He didn't want to cum so early- Didn't want to be a minute man infront of you.

-You wanted him to cum early so bad. His dick had already soaked through his sweats with pre- you knew you could get him worse.

-'Gyutaro, can you- Can you finger me?'

-So fucking cruel. So fucking evil-

-You knew he'd be no good. Too rough and fast, but to your surprise, he shook his head. Very admant.

-'Why not?'

-'I- my hands are gross.' He'd whisper. The poor thing sounded close to tears. He wanted to finger you so bad, but he was all to aware of the cracks and scabs along his knuckles. 'I don't want to get you dirty.'

-'Do you have gloves?' You were surprised by the desperation in your own voice. Fuck.

-'L-like latex?'

-'Mhm'

-Gyutaro had cleared the bed and rush to his bathroom, yanking the gloves from the medicine cabinet. You heard the faucet start, and then a crash and a bang-

-And then Gyutaro was back infront of you, one hand covered with a glove. And he smelled like cologne. You held back a laugh.

-He shivered at the way your pussy sucked his finger in. And then a second not even a minute later.

-'It hurts... You should get on top of me. It'll help.' You reasoned.

-Gyutaro watched you with wide eyes as he bent down next to you, the curve of his wrist allowing him to begin an all too gentle thrust into your pussy.

-His face was right by yours, drinking in the sight of you growing heavy eyed and huffy with awe.

-He picked up his speed. Fuck- you were a real doll, alright. So fucking perfect. All for him. All his- you were his, he decided, deluded by the intimacy of the situation.

-You weren't going to be allowed to go anywhere with any other man- ever again. Nobody else could see this. Nobody was going to see you cum other than him, make you cum, other than him.

-'You keep going just past it-' You'd groan with frustration.

-'Past- What?'

-'I need you to- my g-spot you keep hitting everything but it-'

-His face would turn bright red at the critique.

-'Your g-spot?'

-'Of course you wouldn't know what that is.' You'd snark, reaching down to grab his wrist. His jaw would tighten as you began to guide his hand in and out of your pussy, back arching as he grazed a textured part of your walls.

-He felt like a dildo, an object for you to chase your high-

-Gyutaro came before you, his free hand rushing to try and prevent it, but you'd feel him shiver and hear a soft-

-'Fuck- fuck!'

-And you' look to see a wet patch on the crotch of his sweats. It looked like he pissed himself, the stain starting at least midway down his thigh-

-You imagined such a gigantic load being forced past your cervix. His cock had to be huge- fucking huge- with enough cum to spill for days after.

-'I'm-I'm cumming-' You'd squeak as the vibrator paired with Gyutaro's shame sent you spiraling. His head would snap up to watch-

-You'd leave with nothing but a thanks, and a small comment on how he needed to clean his room - The look of shock on his face borderline second orgasm worthy- He'd already gotten hard again. He wanted to go- wanted you.

-But he'd get a text from you later that night. You'd be at a party- like he knew you were supposed to be.

-'Lol' would accompany a photo of you in a slutty little dress next to Tengen Uzui and those three bimbos always by his side. It would dock his confidence, send him spiraling- panicking-

-But it'd be there...a thin little wire peaking out from between your thighs.

-You'd send him your address and hope he'd have the balls to do something about it.

#demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #upper moons x reader #upper moon smut #gyutaro x y/n #gyutaro x reader #gyutaro smut

[hitomisuzuya]

HIII SUZUUU first time requesting kind nervous lol. For once finally ur requests are open when I'm up 😭 I've been thinking abt scummy scara way too much lately like literally basically imagine just going on a cute date with him only for him to fuck you dumb the second u guys arent in public 🤭🤭🤭

Scaramouche x fem!reader. Scummy Scaramouche. Smut. Edging. Teasing. Degradation. Some date fluff. Reader is hinted in having a metal allergy cause I am allergic to gold jewelry.

Have I said how much I love when requests are worded like this 😳😌 No one should feel nervous requesting from me. 🥺

It was no secret that Scaramouche was a trust fund baby. And the one thing he liked to do with that money is spend it on you. He has to spoil his precious girl, after all.

If there was a cute stuffed animal you looked at for even a second in passing, it was yours. You wanted a book, he bought the whole series for you. You commented on how pretty a piece of expensive jewelry was, he bought it without hesitation. Especially if it was silver. Your skin was finicky about certain metals.

Scaramouche thought silver was prettier, anyways. Not prettier than you. How dare a metal even consider coming close to you.

He always touching you in some way as you walked. An arm around your waist, holding your hand, even sitting down somewhere he had his hand on your thigh. You were taken, damn it, and he needed to make the perfectly clear to anyone who looked.

"Scara, you've spent enough money on me already," You fretted, making him chuckle as he stopped in front of a lingerie boutique in town.

"Nonsense, I insist," Scaramouche replied. Oh yeah, he always insisted. Especially if it meant picking out lingerie for him to rip off later.

God, just picturing how you would look in the lacy black, blue, and purple lingerie to picked out for you was starting to make his cock twitch. "If you need any help, I can come in with you," He said, wishing the changing room door had some kind of keyhole.

"No, Scara, it's okay. I can manage," You said, blushing from how enthusiastic he sounded about helping you put everything on.

That wasn't the point. He needed to see how you looked in them. His imagination was starting to drive him a little crazy. His fingers were shaking with need, and the anticipation of getting his hands on you.

Even the lady behind the counter was starting to give him a stern look. He probably looked something like a dog frothing at the mouth.

With many bags in hand, back you headed with Scaramouche to his dorm. No sooner were you a few steps from it, he was making you drop bags right in the hallway, pushing you against the wall. His hands roamed greedily over your body, biting at your lips as he kissed you.

"Mmmm~," He purred, hooking his fingers through your panties, "you wore the one I hoped you would out of the store." He could hardly wait when you had given him only a price tag to take up to the counter with everything else.

Throwing open his dorm room door, Scaramouche stumbled inside with you, his lips never leaving yours. His hands pawed at your clothes, standing behind you in front of his mirror so he could watch himself remove the lacy purple lingerie. "Purple always looks so pretty on your skin," He kissed and bit at your shoulder as he unhooked your bra, groping your breasts before tugging it off.

Guiding you over to his bed, he pushed you down on it, spreading your legs as he licked a long the inside of your thighs. You squirmed, his spit rolling down the inside of your thighs to soak against the fabric.

"Ha, getting wound already. What a needy slut you are," He purred excitedly, hastily tugging your panties off. His eyes drank in your form spread out before him, just as hastily taking off his clothes. "Can't wait for me to fuck you dumb on my cock, hm?"

You whimpered, grinding needily against him as he pressed the tip of his aching cock on your clit. It sounded so fucking sweet to him that he had to hear it over and over again.

Scaramouche groaned every time he heard you whimper, relentlessly teasing the tip of his cock against your entrance. The way you squirmed on desperation, your walls fluttering and clenching around it was a drool worthy sight to him. His mouth said as much, drool dripping down onto your chest.

"Scara, please, put your cock all the way in me. I can't take much more," You pleaded, reaching down to grasp his cock to try and urge it inside of you. "Cum inside of me."

That sent him feral. Folding your body, and throwing your legs over his shoulder, his slid his cock slowly inside of you. Groaning, he cursed when his cock rested against your sweet spot. Pulling out to the tip, he slowly pushed himself back inside so he could feel your walls clench tight around his cock as he bottomed out again.

Every thrust made you see stars, your eyes rolling closed. Wrapping your arms around him, you clung to him. Scaramouche was determined for the entire campus to hear how good he was fucking you.

"Fuck, look at me when you cum, slut," Scaramouche hissed, pounding himself inside of you, his entire body quivering, his cock throbbing with his approaching orgasm.

Your eyes snapped open, tears welling in them as his lips captured yours to swallow your moans. He bit at your lips, pulling away when your legs started to tremble in pleasure.

"Scream it, whore. Who's fucking you this good, hm?" Scaramouche pushed your legs farther up towards your head, his husky moans only rose in octave as he drove he cock deeper inside of you.

"Scaramouche! Scaramouche! Scaramouche!" The way you chanted his name like mantra, your release flooding around his cock made him cum suddenly inside of you. He left his cock resting deep into your sweet spot, his warm cum ribboning inside of you. You felt every throb of his cock.

Panting, Scaramouche pulled out of you after a few long minutes of feverishly fucking his cum back inside of you. Rolling off of you, he latched one of his lips around your nipple, sucking on it as he scooped some of his cum onto his fingers.

Your back arched off the bed, gasping when he rubbed and hooked his fingers over your sweet spot. You still hadn't entirely come down from your orgasm.

Scaramouche only wanted to continue to make his precious girl feel as good you made him feel. By cumming again all over his fingers.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche #scummy scara #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche imagines #yandere scaramouche #modern au

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Wolf (Daemon Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Daemon inherits the Red Keep. He turns it into a sex club. You know, as one does.

Warnings: Modern Daemon x Hightower reader. Smut. Dom/ Sub dynamics. Overstimulation.

A/N: Daemon's views do not represent my own! Pt 2 to this. There is no need to read pt 1 to understand it, though. Also, do not learn BDSM from fanfic.

You sighed. You dropped your head, smashing the keyboard. This was unbelievable. Had your CV always looked so bland?

You erased the keysmash, and put instead, five years of experience as an CDO.

The door to your office was slammed open, making you jerk in your seat. You looked up, an annoyed remark already on your tongue, and froze. Daemon. Because who else would barge in so rudely?

“Your whorish sister is suing me.” He sat down, dramatically slumping down on the chair. “Make it stop.”

Your eyebrows raised.

“Good morning to you too.” You closed the tab you were browsing in, job offers in King's Landing, and looked up at him. It was the first time you had seen each other since the elevator incident. So far, you were unimpressed with his opening gambit. “Alicent is the most monogamous person in Westeros.”

“It was a figure of speech.”

“Whatever. I am busy.” You typed even more furiously. You had all tabs closed, but Daemon didn't need to know that. It gave you an excuse to avoid looking at him. After that afternoon in the elevator, you were too embarrassed to do so.

Despite having been the one in control the whole time, you were the one who felt more ashamed of your encounter. Once the power trip had worn off, and you had faced reality, embarrassment had started to creep in. Sitting in your father's car with a bruised throat and soaking wet underwear had been humiliating enough. Just thinking of it made you hot under the collar, and not in a good way.

Daemon, instead, had the shamelessness of a porn star. To him, it hadn't been a big deal at all, and it showed. He strutted around the building, giving you naughty little grins every time your paths crossed. The only change had come, oddly enough, from following his real Instagram. You had been added to his Close Friends and now endured the terrible, inhuman torture of watching his selfies. If his mirror pics showed any more skin, they would be dick pics.

“You won't even ask why I am being sued?”

You sighed. You stopped feigning typing.

“I don't need to ask. I can guess it has to do with the contesting of your brother's will.”

Good Gods, you had heard enough of that. Alicent was clawing at the walls and frothing at the mouth that she was getting evicted from her home. Viserys had left her a considerable amount of money and properties, just as he had done for their children. But the Red Keep, the ancestral home in which she had lived ever since they married, was going to Daemon.

Your father was impossible, too. The majority of Viserys' share had gone to Daemon and Rhaenyra, which meant they could easily kick him out of the company. If they managed to agree on something, of course.

“It does.” Daemon kicked his feet up, placing them on your desk. He made a show of getting comfortable.

“There. Out of my office. I'm working” You slapped what you could reach of his feet and calves, until he had no choice but lower them.

“Fuck, you are so…” Whatever Daemon was going to say, he didn't get the chance. You slammed your laptop closed with much more force than necessary, making him wince. “Stop that. Seven Hells, you are so uptight. Relax. It doesn't matter. It’s not like you will hold this job much longer.”

“Is this my notice?” Your eyes narrowed. “Because you need to present it written, and I have to…”

“I just mean, when Rhaenyra gets the…” Daemon started saying, but once again, you did not give him the chance to finish. If he was going to interrupt you, you were going to interrupt him too. Petty as it sounded, it brought you great satisfaction to see him squirm.

“When Alicent, Aegon, Aemond, Helaena and Daeron, you mean.” You smirked.

“God, what a mouthful.” Daemon laughed. It was annoying. His laugh was so loud and unashamed. You wanted to punch him. Or, at least, shake him and see if his only two neurons made synapse.

“Whatever.” You started to get up, grabbing your coat. Where were you going? Not even you knew, but it would be fine, as long as it was away from him.

“They could fire you still.” Daemon got up as well, blocking the exit. There was no escaping him, it seemed.

“I'll take my chances.” You snarled. Fuck, you didn't even mind Rhaenyra that much. It was the principle of the thing. What had she done for the company? Both she and Daemon just rode Viserys and Otto's success, spending money like it grew on trees and causing so many PR scandals they could as well be a controversial rock band. “Move.”

“It's still going to Rhaenyra.” Daemon placed a hand on your shoulder, holding you in place. His grip wasn't harsh, but rather, a warning. It made you think of the way he had tugged your hair, when you were on your knees… “Your sister is suing me because I want to put a sex club on the Red Keep.”

You choked on air.

“You want to do what?!”

“It's an historical building. Or so she says.” Daemon ignored you completely. To him, apparently, filling one of his ancestral properties with a bunch of naked, drunk people, was the new normal. You know, just what one does, if one is filthy rich and bored on a random Tuesday.

“It is one.” You said, a bit perplexed. The Red Keep was more than a hundred years old. Alicent had taken great care to restore the place, bringing experts from all over the world to ensure the best care for the building. You could not even imagine the look on her face when she realized that not only was she being evicted, but that also, Daemon intended to use her home as his sex dungeon.

How would that even work? Was it legal? Tourists visited the Red Keep, you knew. The place was nice, but it was a castle. You could not picture it as a club, or anything more than the home it had been for your nephews.

“The inauguration is on Friday. See you there.” Daemon clapped your shoulder, oddly sheepish. He seemed to actually want you there, which threw you for a loop. He kissed the corner of your mouth, and left, leaving you stunned in the middle of your office.

It ate at you the whole week. A few discreet inquiries confirmed that yes, Alicent sued Daemon. And then, Daemon sued back.

His official Instagram says nothing. His secret one, though, has it plastered all over. You make a note of it, sure that it will leak before the week is over. You get it right. The week passes in a flurry of desperate interns and phone calls, trying to calm down outraged members of the board. His face is all over the news, and the stocks drop. Again.

Your father is furious. Positively seething. Alicent is no better, especially the more Friday approaches. Each day that goes by, it’s one closer to losing her claim on the Red Keep altogether.

It had been a foolish choice, choosing Aemond as a lawyer. He was precisely the kind of man who never knew when to negotiate. If it had been up to you, you would have hired his associate, Alys Strong. Now that was a woman who you could respect.

You tried pretending deafness and blindness, clinging to the idea that out of sight was out of mind. It didn't work whatsoever. You couldn't stop worrying about what would happen if anyone found out about your rendezvous with Daemon last month.

Death, surely. Either throttled by Alicent, or out of sheer embarrassment of your father learning you had sex.

You should stay away from him. It was the reasonable thing to do. A one-night stand didn't mean anything. Everyone had those. Daemon was trouble. But gods, the look on his face when you had left him wanting. How powerful you had felt. Anyone would have trouble letting that go.

Friday dragged by, and you still had not made your choice. You agonized over it all day. It was only when you got off work that you made your choice. You were going, if only to see the clusterfuck with your own eyes.

Daemon had that kind of effect on you. It reminded you of the magicians at the birthday parties you used to attend as a child. He made you recklessly curious, always wanting to see what would be his next trick.

Deciding what to wear was another agonizing choice. Overall, it didn't matter. You realized as soon as you entered the Red Keep that you were overdressed. If you had shown up only in your panties, perhaps you would have blended right in.

It was tacky. It was tasteless. It screamed Daemon.

The Red Keep layout was kept the same, probably because it was an historical building and anything but would go against the conservation’s laws. All the furniture had been removed, making you barely recognize the rooms you passed. This was no longer your sister's home, but a den of sin.

The rooms were only lit by red lights, the heavy bass of some song that was probably in the Fifty Shades of Grey soundtrack echoing in the stone walls. You made your way to what used to be the dinning room, and walked towards the bar.

Tonight was meant to be a soft launch, and you intended to take advantage of the lowered prices. You asked the bartender to bring you a cocktail, but much to your surprise, the cocktail did not come alone. Instead, it came with a pamphlet and a small basket, filled with colorful bracelets.

“You have to wear one, Miss.” The bartender said. You stared.

When you were confident about what they each meant, you grabbed a purple one and placed it on your wrist.

“Switch.” Daemon whispered in your ear, startling you. “Are you sure about that?”

“Good Gods! You frightened me.” You complained, clutching your chest. To be able to speak to him over the loud music, you had to lean into his space quite a bit. By the smirk on his face, he was clearly enjoying it.

“I live for that. Frightening naive little girls.” Daemon gave a tug to the bracelet, letting it snap against your skin. “Sure about the color?”

“I am.” You moved back, scowling. You hated that he always wanted to command everything around him. The bracelet on his wrist was dominant red, making perfect sense.

“I would not say you are.” His hands were quick to catch you, one at your hip and another at your nape. Daemon ran a finger down your spine, making you shiver. “I think you are a little princess who loves submitting.”

“I am not a sub all the time.” You pushed his hands away. If anyone saw you practically on his lap, there would be hell to pay. Alicent would throw a fit, and so would your father. Besides, you didn't fancy ending up in the tabloids. “And get your hands off me, we are in public.”

“Look around, you prude. Practically an orgy.” He pressed a kiss to your jaw, and gently tilted you to face some couches in the other room. There were two women kissing, while a man was kneeling between their spread legs. None of them were wearing any clothes. You swallowed. You had been carefully avoiding looking at the others in the room. “And you are a submissive to me. You know what they say…”

“And what gave you that impression?” Your tone was sharp, but you were not as invested in the conversation as you once were. No. Because your eyes were fixed on a younger man, lingering by the corner of the room. A very familiar one, with silver hair. Was that..?

Whoever caught your attention, he was not allowed it long. Daemon stepped in front of you, blocking your view of him. One of his hands went to your face.

“Looks like one.” He pressed a kiss to your neck, open-mouthed. You hated your treacherous, treacherous body for reacting to it, a moan escaping your mouth. “Sounds like one.” Daemon kissed you, exactly at the pace that you liked. For some bewildering reason, that not even you could fathom, you kissed back. “Tastes like one. Must be one, don't you think?”

Daemon grinned at you, superiorly. Irritatingly, and just like that time in the elevator, you weren't sure if you wanted to slap the smile off his face, or kiss it away.

“I do not look submissive.” You bristled. “What in the Seven Hells gave you that impression?”

“Your eyes are all glazed over. You look fucked out and I haven't even touched you. And of course…” Daemon brushed the slope of your nose with a finger and gave it a boop. You batted his hand away, annoyed. “The fact that you were practically drooling to suck my cock a month ago.”

“First of all, that is not even a word. And you said it yourself. A month ago.”

“What? Glazed over or fucked out?”

“You sound like a bad porno.”

“A bad porno you like, little brat.” Daemon nosed along your shoulder, making your knees feel weak. He had the face of a man experiencing heaven, as if the tastiest delicacy was just there, for him to consume. “Lucky you, I love brats.”

“As if I care.” You did, but Daemon didn't need to know that. Part of you felt strangely pleased at being his type.

Daemon laughed. He kissed the tip of your nose.

“You owe me a punishment. Up for it?”

And again, contradicting all common sense, you nodded. Daemon grabbed your hand and brought you to a closed door, but before you could get in, someone pressed into your side.

“Aunt. How lovely.” Aegon said, smiling like a shark. You felt so embarrassed that you felt as if about to spontaneously combust. Daemon's arm around your waist tightened.

“Dear nephew!” Daemon smirked. “Fancy meeting you here. Tell me, how did you get in? Fake ID?”

Aegon was well over legal age, but he glared at Daemon regardless.

“With the invitation you sent me.” He then waved a hand towards you. “Does Mother know about this?”

“Well, yes. But I wasn't expecting you to show.” Daemon said, casually. Your mouth fell open.

“You sent him an invitation? Are you insane?” You shouted, turning towards him.

“I take it Mother doesn't know.”

“I wasn't expecting him to come! How would I have known?” Daemon shouts right back.

“You are mad.” You detangle yourself from him and ask the bartender for a shot. “Why the fuck would you do that?”

You down the shot so fast, you barely feel the sting of alcohol in the back of your throat. Aegon watches, amused, and asks for a drink of his own. When faced with the basket, he immediately picks a submissive bracelet and slips it on casually.

“Nice place you got here.” He complimented. Daemon ignores him, choosing instead to grab you by the arm.

“I can explain, little Hightower.”

“Fuck, you call her that?” Aegon whistles, delighted. His voice has a hint of awe. “That's dirty.”

“Shut up!” You glare at Aegon. Daemon falls quiet. “No, not you, fool. Explain.”

“I sent one to your sister, to Cole, to your father, to that boy with the stick up his ass, to Harwin and Nyra, to Helaena, to…” Daemon was counting with his fingers, and it seemed like he wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

“I get it, I get it.” You interrupted. “What for?”

“To piss them off, of course. Gods know, some of those cunts need loosening up.”

“And Rhaenyra? Is she happy with what you have done with the place?” You snarl, a bit of jealousy creeping in your tone.

“Very. In fact, I saw her disappear over there with that Cole guy.” He pointed towards one of the rooms.

“Criston? Didn't think he had it in him.” Aegon comments idly.

“He is dornish.” Daemon interjected, as if it made perfect sense. But it didn't because being dornish didn't equate with wanting to receive whatever Rhaenyra had in mind. You certainly wouldn't be up for it. Your paths had crossed with hers enough times to know that, just as Daemon, she demanded worship.

Whatever Criston was doing here, you hoped he didn't regret it in the morning. Or else, you would have to explain to Alicent why her bodyguard was moping around and hungover.

Alicent. Fuck. Criston wanted to fuck her so bad it made him look stupid, and so did Rhaenyra. Perhaps that was it. Neither of them could have her, so they settled for each other instead.

“And heavy on the guilt.” Aegon muttered.

“Well, dear nephew. As lovely as it was meeting you here, and as touching as your show of support for my fine establishment was, I have business with your aunt.” Daemon's hand presses against your lower back, urging you forwards. You give Aegon a wide-eyed look. He is not the sort to care where others stick their cocks, and you are on relatively good terms, but he could still tell.

“Gross. Does Grandfather..?” Well. No one said Aegon was the paragon of intelligence. It is for the best that you didn't answer his question. Plausible deniability and all.

Daemon and you exchange a look. Your eyes, pleading. His, annoyed.

“Anything he drinks is free.” Daemon grumbles to the barman. He knows as well as you do that Aegon is easily distracted.

“What? For real?”

Neither of you answered. Daemon kept moving, and so did you. He led you towards one of the locked doors, deftly pushing a token inside a slit, and the door opened for you.

Your expectations for what was inside were high. Needing a token to open a door must mean this place is something special. A dungeon, perhaps, or a room filled with chains and leather. Maybe even a bedroom.

But as you have often come to realize with men, having high expectations is a terrible idea. The only thing inside is a cozy-looking couch and a small table that holds a bowl full of condoms and lube. You are unable to keep the disappointed little frown from your face. Daemon had talked such a big game, you had expected something different. Something more.

“This is it?” You say, trying not to sound as disappointed as you feel.

“Yes.” Daemon sits down on the couch. You stare. You must be pretty obvious because he gives you a lazy smile. “Not what you were expecting?”

“No.” Entranced by the way his lips curl, you step closer to him.

“What were you expecting?” Daemon’s hands go to rest on your hips like it's the most natural thing in the world.

“I don't know. Whips, chains?”

Daemon chuckles.

“Oh, sweetling.” He kisses between your collarbones, mouth leaving a trail of scorching heat on its path. You gasp, feeling weak at the knees from the simple touch. Your hands go to his shoulders, clenching and unclenching on his shirt to try to steady yourself.

Thing about Daemon? He is not polite. He kisses your chest and shoulders as if he wants to devour you. Daemon is messy with it, too, leaving you covered in hickeys and saliva. It should disgust you, but it only manages to turn you on more.

The bass pounds outside the room, mixing with the heavy pulse of your blood in your ears. You could swear you can listen to your heartbeat, with how fast your heart is going. Little pants escape you, only encouraging Daemon to get wilder.

He mouths at your throat. He takes off your top, sliding it down your shoulders. You cling to him, trembling and feverish. Your nails dig into the skin of his back, you feel as if about to fall over.

“Please.” You say, and you don't even know what you are asking for. Daemon, though, seems to know exactly what you need. His hand sneaks into your trousers, finding you wet and willing. Your knees buckle.

“Shh.” His voice is soothing. “Straddle me.”

So you do. His mouth goes lower, taking one of your nipples inside his mouth. You give a small, keening sound.

“Daemon…”

“I'm on it.” He smiles against your skin and slowly starts to suck. His fingers move upwards, after collecting some of your wetness. He locates your clit with deadly accuracy and starts rubbing soft little circles.

You mewl. Your hand goes to his neck, holding him as close as you can to your chest. It's not hard for him at all to bring you over the edge. You fall over it embarrassingly fast, muffling a moan on his shoulder.

Daemon lightly bites around your nipple, making you jolt. He keeps stroking you through it, pleasurable circles on your clit turning into painful oversensitivity. You cry out, legs trying to close, but finding there is no way for you to do it with how you are straddling Daemon.

“Hurts. Stop, Daemon.” You complain, trying to get away. Instead of complying with your request, though, Daemon only holds you tighter.

“Now, little brat. Where do you think you are going?” He smirks. Alarmed, you try to break his grip, pushing at his shoulders and even attempting to cup a hand over your cunt. “I have not forgotten what you did.”

You bite at his shoulder, hard. Daemon laughs, and keeps abusing your poor clit. His fingers pinch around it, exposing more of the bead.

“What's your safeword?”

“Safeword.” You mutter back, too distracted to try to be creative. The burning sensation on your clit keeps you from it, rising and rising and making you think you are about to come again. Soon, the pain changes from a bright flame to tiny embers, making your hips chase his hand once more.

“Good girl. Clever.” He kisses your forehead. “If you don't say it, I won't stop, no matter how loud you scream.”

Your mind is at war with your nerve endings, and it's steadily losing the battle. No matter how hard you try to focus on the thought of being unable to come again this fast, your body seems set on proving the contrary.

You want to give Daemon a witty retort. Perhaps, say something about the lines of how he will disappoint yet again. Yet, you are unable to because a shrill moan is leaving your lips, and you are falling over the edge again.

Daemon, though, is relentless. He pushes a finger inside of you, searching for the spot that will make you scream. You try to close your legs, shield your body from him. It’s pointless. He has too good of a grip on you, one hand holding you open and teasing your clit, and the other fingering you.

He definitely knows what he is doing. You are suffering too much to enjoy it.

Your body jerks as if you have touched a live wire, stomach’s muscles quivering with the effort of holding you uprights. Sweat is starting to ruin your hair, making it stick to your nape and temples.

“No, no, no.” You push at him, trying to get away. This time, you half manage, falling off his lap and into the couch instead. Daemon just looks amused, and leans down to nuzzle your belly.

“Thank you.” He lifts your hips slightly, even as you start to try to kick him off. He removes both your trousers and underwear with a swift tug. “This will be so much easier.”

And so, he licks a long stripe through your folds. You moan, half pleasure, half protest. Daemon wraps his arm over your hip and pins you down. He then takes your clit into his mouth.

The feel of his warm mouth around your clit eases a bit of the soreness there. The pleasure has made you stupid, so you open your legs to give him better access. You can feel the smugness radiating off him as you submit.

He is a dragon, he will tell you later. And dragons eat naive girls like you for breakfast, dinner and supper, if they are stupid enough to let them get close.

Daemon pushes another finger inside you. The stretch feels unbearable, making you try to squirm once more, but he is moving his fingers in a come and hither motion; your body is going rigid, and you are screaming and falling and—

You lose count, after that. Your body feels abused, there are tear tracks on your temples. You feel feverish. You go in and out of consciousness, as Daemon laps at you, fingers you, rubs at you.

Time turns liquid. It slips through your fingers, moments at a time. You are not very conscious of your body, or of what Daemon is doing. There is only hot, molten pleasure and burning pain.

How much pleasure can a body take? Your hands push weakly at his head, moments later, you beg for him to use his tongue instead. He gives you a last one, forcing your body to arch and twist and making you sob desperately, before scooping you up in his arms.

Daemon's hands go to fix your top. You shake, afraid that he is going to continue and torture your nipples instead.

“No, no, no, no.” You chant. “Please. I am so sorry. Please.” You are barely aware of what you are saying. If you could hear yourself with a clear head, you would scoff at this pitiful woman who bends for the simplest things. You would scoff at her, just as you had scoffed at Daemon for being made into a slave to his pleasure.

“You won't do that again, will you?” Daemon licks your tears, and you cling to his shirt in desperation, willing to keep begging if necessary. Pleasure is as devastating a weapon as pain, you have found out. The line between the two blurs until you are not sure if you need his mouth on you again to soothe the pain, or if you need him to never touch you to stop hurting.

You shake your head. You would do anything Daemon wants.

He grabs you by the jaw, roughly.

“Say it.”

“I won't. I promise, please.”

Daemon hugs you to him. You melt, mind and body exhausted.

“You were good.” He tells you, after a while. You are not sure how much time has passed, but your head feels much more clear. “My brave girl.”

You cling to his reassurance. You tell yourself you have done good, that you endured and never even thought of the safeword. That your body was pushed to its limits, and that you were able to conquer them. Still, you ask.

“Was I good?”

“The best.” Daemon caresses your hips, drawing nonsensical patterns on the side of them.

“Thank you.” And you pull yourself together, one piece at the time. Your eyes focus, you can feel the way his chest constricts and expands with his breath. You righten yourself. “Water. I want a water.”

“You are back, I see.” He stares at you with none of the contempt he had displayed a month before. “Cunty little Hightower that you are, used to the lush life.”

“I do not think it too much to ask.” You scowl, more than ready for another round of banter. No matter how tired your body is, your mind is still sharp.

Daemon laughs.

“Get down from my lap and I will get you one.”

You do so, on shaky legs. You sit. Primly, as if not sitting naked in a sex club, but rather at the table of an important restaurant.

Daemon laughs at the sight you make, thoroughly fucked out but so damn composed it's nearly irritating. It almost makes him question if he has fucked you well enough. The tear tracks on your face seem to say so, but your demeanor says otherwise.

He comes back with your water, and you straighten a bit more. Your hands give you away, though. As sharp as your posture is, you are still shaking.

“You could come with me.” Daemon opens the bottle for you. “I would pay you.”

You feel as if you have been gutted. You are more than this, you think. A Hightower, an heiress in your own right. Not a trophy wife, not someone to be used and paid. You have a degree, you are smart. And you have sworn not to become like Alicent.

Viserys had been a kind godfather and mentor to you. He had not been a good husband to her.

“Be your sugar baby?” Already, you feel your walls rising back up. Why would he ask this of you? It must be a mockery of some sort, perhaps he has not forgotten how cutting your barbs to him once were. This must be Daemon getting his revenge.

Your mental retreat must be paired with a physical one, even if you do not realize it. Because Daemon is coming after you, his hands on your hips, pulling you back into his lap.

His face changes to something more serious. He rubs his nape, and you know, only by that gesture, that what comes next will be good. Daemon Targaryen does not do sheepish, you would say if asked. Yet here he is, blushing like a schoolboy. It makes something roar in you.

“While that sounds tempting, I like you too much for it. Respect you too much for it. But the club needs a presence on social media…”

You nearly smile. But you are a Hightower and you enjoy making him grovel. Daemon calls you a cunt for a reason, after all.

“Everyone would say I fucked the owner.” You whine, hiding your face on his neck so he doesn't see the ferocious smile on your lips. He must feel it against his skin, the most beautiful of curves, sharp teeth at his throat.

“So? Did you not?” Daemon asks because he is also an annoying asshole. The remark, even if teasing, makes something painful tighten around your chest. As much as you can pretend not to be bothered by it, this getting out would end you. Your father would die of a fit of rage, your sister would never speak to you again, not when the man you are fucking and working with is suing her to the Seven Hells and back.

Rabbits and other small prey animals freeze to avoid detection. You do the same. As if standing still may make you escape notice, will make Daemon unable to read the lines of your face and body.

“You don't have to say yes right away. You can think it over.” His hand rubs the small of your back, soft and sweet.

He can tell. Of course, he can, if the truth is written on your features so well, you might as well be shouting it from the rooftops.

Daemon smiles. He helps you dress, tenderly.

“Come. I'll drive you home.”

#daemon x reader #prince daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #daemon x you #prince daemon x you #daemon x y/n #daemon targaryen smut #daemon x oc #daemon x fem!reader #daemon smut #daemon fluff #daemon fic #daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen #prince daemon #hotd x reader #hotd daemon #hotd fanfic #asoiaf fanfic #asoif fanfic #asoif/got #little lamb series

[sh1-n0bu]

punishing rubedo for being a little bitch🤭

sub!albedo × dom!reader × sub!rubedo

c.w // slightly implied kidnapping(?), dick/strap, albedo is a crier,,, fight me😋,

As you walked back inside of your room, you saw Albedo standing infront of a tied up Rubedo, who was glaring at him harshly.

"Why am I here, you couldnt just finish fighting me off? Are you that weak?" Rubedo spat at him. Albedo didnt say anything, only staring at him. Neither of them noticed that you were inside. You decided to watch them quietly, seeing what would happen next.

"Are you going to say something? What are you, scared of me?"

"...no. I'm just not going to spout useless insults at you." Albedo replied, fiddling around with the brim of his gloves.

This went on for a bit, Rubedo being a bitch and Albedo just silently taking it. You had gotten bored, so you let out an audible sigh, making both if them jump and look at you. You walked towards them, pulling Albedo's waist close to you.

"Now now Rubedo, I see that you're not being very.. kind." You said in a teasing voice, staring down at him from over Albedo's head, which was already turning red. Rubedo glared at him one more time before looking up at you with a suspicious look.

"What do you have to do with this?" He asked, but not in the way he spoke with Albedo. He couldnt bring himself to speak with such venom, not even glare at you.

"Don't worry about it. Why are you being so vile to 'Bedo?" You inquired, using Albedo's nickname to get a reaction out of him, and you did. His hands clenched against the ropes restraining him from just attacking Albedo, and his grit his teeth.

"I think you need to be punished." You were going to have with this.

—

"MNNGH! Traveler, plHEASE!" Too much, it's too much, too mUCH!" Albedo moaned out, tears dripping down from his face to the sheets. He'd been riding you for a while and when he couldn't continue, you started to manhandle him a bit.

How many times had he came? How long had you been inside him? He couldnt think straight at all, only about how you felt inside him, and how mad Rubedo was, muzzled and watching you two's performance for him.

You ran you fingers through his hair, kissing his tears away, "Shhh, it's okay love, you can take one more round, cant you?" You whispered in his ear. He nodded and whimpered, he wanted this to last as long as possible. He wanted to please you in anyway he could, and he loved how much Rubedo was seething, wishing he was in Albedo's place instead.

You carefully moved Albedo into doggy position [i like calling it that🤝] and carefully shoved his into the pillows as you adjusted yourself to be deeper inside him. He moaned, his eyes rolling up with little heart pupils, and you had positioned you two to be looking straight at Rubedo.

"You want this dont you? Maybe if you behave, this could be you." You taunted, fucking Albedo harder, his moans growing louder. Rubedo looked down at his own hard member. You pitied him, you truly did, maybe that's why, after you finished with Albedo, you decided to help him.

"I pity you, I really do." You whispered his ear as you rubbed his dick up and down, causing muffled moans to spill from his mouth. You sped up, pulling his hair a bit, and that was the last thread, and he came all over himself and you.

"Good boy."

—

we are so horny, but we can be horny together🤝

also sorry this took so long, i had to take care of myself😔

—🕴anon

[psss... heres your food, 🦝!]

JXSJFJSJJDJDJDJSHDHSJFJJSJDJDJ IM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH PLSSSSS

#nobu.nobu.chat #🕴anon #🦝 anon #sub!genshin impact #sub!genshin #sub genshin impact #sub genshin #sub!character #sub!albedo #sub albedo #x dom reader #dom!reader #dom reader #rubedo x reader #fake albedo x reader #albedo smut #genshin smut

[mykneeshurt]

Breath work

Am I a ghost simp? Damn right baby, since I played that menace back in 2009. All the edits on tik tok have gotten me feral and frothing at the mouth. He could break my neck and I’d thank him, so have a quick one from me (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

I have other ideas I’m working on, but I work full time so please bare with ✨

Feedback always welcome, I DO NOT own the mask line we all know and love, it was too good not to put in here. I DO NOT own any of the characters mentioned. I do not own the gif, credited on the tag line.

Warnings - breath play, vaginal sex, rough, unprotected sex, quick sex, no minors! Get outta here.

I tried to keep him the silent type, and everything he says I said to myself in his accent first lmfao to see if it sounded good 😂

The first time you met Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley was when you were introduced to Task Force 141, as a new Special Forces Sargent. The rest of the team welcomed you with open arms, keen to get to know you. John ‘Soap’ McTavish and you soon become good friends. But Ghost? Nothing. He barely even acknowledged you. You were all currently at base in Herefordshire, training whilst waiting for your next mission instructions.

Your down time was spent at the firing rage letting off some steam. It was early November so there was a chill in the air. As you led on your stomach lining up your target you took in a deep breath to steady your aim. Squeezing the trigger the shot fired and the butt of the gun kicked back into your firm shoulder. Bullseye. Smiling to your self you sat up on your knees taking in the clean morning air. ‘Not bad’ a gruff voice rang out behind you making you jump. Spinning around you saw Ghost stood before you, his intimidating frame casting a shadow with the morning sun.

‘Not bad?’ You asked completely offended, who does he think he is? He barely speaks two words to you and now he’s critiquing your marksmanship? You got to your feet in a huff and barged past him, placing your rifle on the table. He stood arms crossed against his wide chest, his biceps bulging underneath his khaki jumper. You stood drinking him in, all of him. He stood at roughly 6’2, towering above you and you 5’5 medium build. Thick strong thighs sat under his tight cargo trousers begging to be touched.

He let out a small sigh ‘yeah not bad, could do with brushing up on your breath work though.’ Was he actually doing this? You were a special forces Sargent who specialised in weapons? Sure he was good, you’d seen his record but was he as good as you? Surely not?

Scowling at him you crossed your own arms closing off your body, ‘fine, you can show me. Seeing as I’m clearly not up to your standard.’ Grabbing your rifle you walked back over to him slamming it into his chest. Fuck, you thought to yourself, his chest was rock hard. You felt heat rush to your cheeks as you let go of the gun, catching his gaze.

If you’d have known any better you’d say you saw a slight movement in his eyes indicative of a smirk. Ghost led prone on the floor, his right knee bent parallel to his hips. His ass looked phenomenal in that position, it was only when you heard 3 rounds go off did you avert your gaze back to the target. Damn, fucker was fast. Seeing him do that in the flesh was … something else. He peered over his shoulder at you, the white skull detail was stark contrast the black paint he kept on around his eyes. ‘Try again, I’ll help you’ he gestured.

Rolling your eyes you led next to him on the floor, you’d never been this close before. Your left arm brushed against his as you took hold of your rifle, your hip in line with his as you brought you knee up to position. You took aim as Ghost took hold of your shoulders slightly altering your position. His grip was firm, his large hands encasing your shoulders with ease. He trailed his hands to your ribs ‘breathe in’ he commanded. Taking a breath in to steady yourself was torture, you felt like you were going to explode. ‘Hold it here’ he said as he gripped your chest, your heart was pounding at his touch. As you held your breath at his desired depth you squeezed the trigger, one, two, three times. Hitting the bullseye again but this time it felt cleaner.

‘Better.’ He said finally letting go of your ribs. You let out a shaky breath, ‘thanks, sir.’ You mumbled, feeling him slightly tense next to you. If there was one thing you had noticed about Ghost, it was his eyes. Dusky blue peering out of his black skull balaclava which he never took off. They always seemed so empty, glazed over and yet always full of emotion. He never outwardly showed much emotion during missions, he and Soap were close and he trusted his team. Soap always told you about his great sense of humour, but he was yet to share that with you. You were nearly always paired with Gaz or Captain Price in the field.

Ghost got to his feet before helping you up, his firm grip on your hand and the ease he pulled you up with further made your heart pound in your chest. He’s your lieutenant, your superior, you shouldn’t be having these feelings … these thoughts. Your mind wandered to what his hands would feel like around your thro … ‘alright love?’ Ghost asked interrupting your train of thought. Flustered you let go of his hand and tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. ‘Oh, yeah, sorry, not with it today.’ Your hair was normally slicked back into a tight bun, as per regulations. But no one bothered you out here this early, so you’d wear your hair in a loose plait instead.

‘That was a good shot, hold your breath just like I showed you. You’ll be making cleaner shots in no time.’ You smiled up at him through your thick lashes. ‘How did you know I was down here?’ He visibly tensed, staring with his arms crossed across his chest, staring right at you. ‘I always know where you are.’ He replied bluntly.

He took a step forward closing the space between you, his gaze never faltered from yours. Your breath hitched in your throat and you instinctively took a step backwards. ‘W … what?’ You stammered, surprised but not afraid.

He reached forward and grabbed your belt pulling you into him, you slammed into his firm chest. He snaked his hand to the back of your neck, his gaze becoming suddenly more intense. You placed your hands on his abdomen, your nails firmly gripping his jumper. You could feel his breath beneath his mask brushing over your flushed skin. Short shallow breaths escaped your lips, as you searched his eyes for any clue of what he was thinking.

Nothing.

‘Simon?’ You stuttered beneath your breath ‘what are you doing?’ His hand cradled the base of your skull and neck, his thumb and forefinger adding slight pressure. His eyes darted from your eyes to your lips and back again, pupils dilated. Yet he still seemed un phased by what he was doing. You licked your dry plump lips, all moisture seeming to have escaped your mouth. His eyes flicked down again, if you hadn’t have been concentrating you would have missed it. His gloved hand still gripping onto your belt as he pulled you closer still. He brought his head to your ear ‘I 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 want to know where you are’ he growled.

You clenched your thighs together, his deep voice ricocheting through your body. The tension between you two was building, something had to give. It was a matter of time of who would break first. His clean but musky smell invaded your nostrils further heightening how aroused you were. You looked up at him with doe like eyes, lips slightly parted.

‘Take it off’ you asked looking at his mask.

‘Negative.’

‘Why? Are you ugly?’ You smirked.

‘Quite the opposite’ he replied, sounding amused. Slowly you creeped your hand up his chiselled body, searching his eyes for any objection. As you got to the base of his mask you slipped a finger under the fabric, the pressure of the back of your neck increased. His eyes never straying from yours, fuck this guy is intense.

You slowly brought your other hand to the bottom of his mask and began to roll it up. His defined stubbled chin and full lips came into view. Slowly you traced your thumb around his lips, before slowly dragging your thumb on his bottom lip. Managing to get a glimpse of his white straight teeth. His grip on your belt tightened, so much so you could hear the crunch of the leather. His breath smelt like mint as it caressed your face. You traced your thumb again, this time placing your other hand on the side of his neck. His pulse felt steady, almost relaxed, because of course it did. His skin was warm and soft to the touch, as you grazed your nails along the back of his neck. You broke eye contact first, glancing at his lips, silently begging him to make to make the first move.

Without warning he dropped his hand from your neck to your ass and lifted you with ease. Coaxing you to wrap your legs around his waist, which you did without hesitation. He took a few steps before your back met with the brick wall of the shelter with a dull thud. The thud caused an involuntary moan to slip past your lips whilst you tried to catch your breath. As your lips parted Ghost met them with his own, his kiss tasted of pure desperation. Desperation to taste you, to feel you, to claim you. His other hand still cradled the back of your head, where he placed it to stop it from hitting the brick.

He led the kiss, opening your mouth with his, his tongue meeting yours as he tightened his grip in your hair. Breathless he pulled away ‘fuckin’ hell’ he muttered. Another moan escaped you as you caught your breath, tightening your legs around his waist. Begging for some friction to release the tension. ‘Dirty fuckin’ bitch’ he growled before reclaiming your mouth. He lightly tapped your thigh for you to get down, he lowered you to the floor not breaking the kiss.

As he kissed you, you heard a belt buckle rattle before he pulled your plait, forcing you to look at him. ‘I wanna see how good your breath work really is.’ He slowly wrapped his belt around your neck before pulling it tight, ‘that’s it’ he whispered in your ear in a low tone. He pulled the belt tighter until you had just enough room to inhale. You gripped his forearm, feeling his muscles tighten and he gripped the belt. Each fibre rippling under your fingertips. ‘Don’t touch the belt sweetheart, or I’ll stop.’

Nodding, he turned you around and pushed your torso into the red brick. He pulled your elbows behind your back holding them in his firm grip. His free hand slid under your top, his gloved hand grazed your skin. You just about managed to squeeze your vocal cords together ‘the glove … off’, you panted. Ghost placed the tip of his gloved finger on your lips, as you bit the tip of the glove he slid his hand out. Placing his hand once again on your stomach, this time the sensation of skin on skin burned through you.

He undid your belt and popped open your trousers, slowly working his hand inside. His fingertips brushed over your black lace panties, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He yanked your trousers down just below the crease of your ass. A sharp blow hit the right cheek before he pulled your panties down also. He pulled your hips back into him forcing you to stand at an angle, your cheek pressed into the wall. You could feel his gaze burning into you, ‘fuck … me’ you groaned through gritted teeth and a constricted throat. He caressed your thigh ‘patience love.’

An eager but exasperated moan left you as you looked over your shoulder at him. Silently pleading. He’d pulled his mask back down over his lips, once again becoming Ghost, looking back at you through hooded black eyes. Without warning he cupped your pussy, your eyes rolled back from the much needed touch. He let out a grunt of approval before sinking a finger into you. You arched your back into him, this wasn’t want you wanted, what you needed. What you needed was for him to fuck you.

Sensing this, he lined up his cock and thrust into you. Forcing you to take him in one go, it was the most pleasurable burn. Breathy moans filled the morning air between you. He steadied your hips with his hand as he quickly established a firm pace. Letting go of your elbows you placed them on the wall in-front of you for extra support. The shape of your body in this position drove him crazy. The defined muscles of your back peeking out from the bottom of your top, tensing with every thrust. He grabbed your wrist, guiding it down to your clit, instantly understanding you began rubbing firm circles.

He unexpectedly let out a small whimper from underneath his mask, he was close. ‘Good girl’ he praised, ‘just like that … fuck.’ You were close too, the pressure began building, your muscles becoming tighter. Hoarse moans left your throat, the belt feeling tighter and tighter. You came just before he did, clenching around his generous sized cock. He slid his hand under your top grasping at the untouched skin of your chest. ‘Please don’t stop’ you gasped, desperate for air. The pleading tone in your voice sent him over the edge. He came in your still pulsating pussy, filling you with his cum. You looked over your shoulder, eyebrows furrowed, meeting his eyes with a filthy smile on your lips as he filled you up.

His rhythm slowed until he eventually stopped, making sure every last drop was inside you. As he pulled out he watched as yours and his cum dripped out of your pussy slowly. Not being one for waste he trailed his finger up your thigh to push it back in, the feel of his finger sliding back in was bliss. He undid his belt from around your neck as you pulled up your trousers, a satisfied grin plastered on your face.

Your face still flushed you looked up at him ‘not bad Riley, but maybe I can help you with your technique.’

#fan fic smut #ghost x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #call of duty #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #smut

[yeyinde]

more john price please. maybe reader is tongue pierced giving him sloppy head? 👀

"Haven't worn one in a while," you wink, cheeky and a little tipsy. Filled with liquid confidence in shades of amber malt that remind you of the taste on his tongue. You lean in close, agarwood tickling your nose. Eyes flash in a mockery of something demure, staid: lashes cresting, babydoll coy and saccharine sweet, over your glossy eyes in the way you know he likes. Your countenance might have been twee, virginal, but the words that seep from your lips are drenched in hedonism: sultry and sybaritic.  "Do you like it, baby?"

⇾warnings: unfettered filth; gendered reader, gendered terminology, female!reader; oral—m!receiving; dom!Price; this is basically just price fucking your throat; reader has a tongue piercing ⇾notes: i am so sorry this took so long. no excuses—but life got away from me for a moment. this has the flavour of sugar daddy Price, and maybe kinda sorta might be a small drabble piece to my sugar!daddy Price fic(s). —i listened to a very specific set of lana songs for this.

"Oh, fuck, love—," his hips lift from the seat of the armchair, forcing more of his spit-slicked cock into your mouth, nearly gagging you. "That's it—just like that—"

You sputter, nose burning at the way he plugs your throat with the blunt, fleshy head of his cock. It bludgeons into the soft lining in the back, pressing taut against the gummy walls that flutter, flexing, around him. His hand is ironclad against your skull, keeping you pliant, open for him. Just for him—

It borders on too much, riding that hazy line between what you can take and what you can't. Your mettle is tested by each inch he forces inside of your esophagus, delicate flesh coloured a mosaic of blue and black as he splits you apart. Your eyes are drenched in tears running down your cheeks as his cock spears your throat, a brackish sea loch, turning you into nothing but a conduit for his pleasure. A receptacle for him.

Really, though: you have no one to blame but yourself.

When you first flicked your tongue out at him, a pretty titanium barbell catching in the soft light of the pub, you thought you broke him. 

Knuckles blanched on the glass tucked inside his palm. The calm lake of his eyes rippled when you rolled the ball across your upper lip, frothing, gyre-intense, and arsenic white.

(It tasted like victory, then. Now it tastes of firth and sea spray.)

His voice was low when he spoke, a brassy rumble that barely fit through the grit of his teeth. "You didn't tell me about this, love."

"Haven't worn one in a while," you winked, cheeky and a little tipsy. Filled with liquid confidence in shades of amber malt that remind you of the taste on his tongue.

You lean in close, agarwood tickling your nose. Eyes flash in a mockery of something demure, staid: lashes cresting, babydoll coy and saccharine sweet, over your glossy eyes in the way you know he likes. Your countenance might have been twee, virginal, but the words that seep from your lips are drenched in hedonism: sultry and sybaritic. 

"Do you like it, baby?"

His knee hits the underside of the table, the noise only just drowning out the groan that drags, crumpled and ruined, out of his throat. Heady chamois chokes the giggle from your chest when he looms over you, hand white-hot on the skin of your thigh, pushing up the hem of the pretty lace dress.

(The one he bought for you.)

You glance up, and the air is smothered out of your lungs. Intense, bonfire-bright.

"We're going home."

Fullstop. A command. No room for arguments. Not that you could make any with the heavy way he stares at you, eyes drifting to your gaping mouth where the metal surprise catches in the glow.

There is a click in your throat when you swallow, heart lurching in your chest. Your belly burns with the smoke from his cigar, and amber malt from his glass. 

His thumb notches inside of your thigh. Danger close, as they say. You wonder if he can feel the dewiness staining your skin. 

Price hums low in his throat–a rasping trill that makes you feel like you're a stripped wire. Flayed. Open. Raw. 

His eyes are storm clouds over the sea: a thunderclap in the granite distance. He speaks, a rucked husk over smouldering sandalwood, and your spine tingles with the way his slurred accent curls over the words. 

"And when we get there, love, I want you on your knees," his fingers press into the dampening gusset of your panties, eyes sapphire grey. "And we'll see how much I like it."

Which, of course, turned out to be a lot. 

You pull back, gasping, and wrap your hand around the base of him where he pulses like a heartbeat in your palm. Teary eyes flicker up to him, lashes clumped together, watery from when he'd fisted your hair in his hand and pushed you down to the base. Yeah, take all of me, love. 

His eyes glide to you, lidded and heavy. Price gazes down at you, lips pulled up in a wry smile as he watches you fall to pieces with just his cock buried deep in your throat.

In petulant retaliation, you drag the metal ball across his frenulum; a slow roll that makes his eyelids drop, head falling back with a grunt of liquid sin. 

Suede fills your nose when his hand cups your jaw, thumb stroking the skin below your wet, glossy lip. You lap at his sensitive, flushed tip, eyes fluttering. 

You can't get enough of the way he tastes—clean pine, wet skin, salt. You drink it down like you're parched for him. And you are. His taste rides the line of nicotine and power. It's stupid, really, but think you could stay on your knees for his man as long as he'll have you. Desperate in a selfless way: one that makes you want to hear his smoky growls, the grunts of pleasure, and bask in the briny tang of him in your mouth. 

You pull back, dragging your hand up his aching flesh. Precum beads at the tip. Your mouth waters. 

It's a feast: the way his thick, fat cock glistens from your spit, flushed vermillion; long veins throbbing under your fingers, pulsing through the velvet flesh. The flared, wet mushroom head. The bulge an inch below, a swollen slope that stretches you unexpectedly when he has you on your back, your knees; fat head shoved inside. Then the stretch, the burn, as he pushes the rest of his girth into you. Unending, all the way to the base. Price is stocky. Thick. 

Your jaw aches already. 

His stare burns when you meet it over the leaking tip of him, chin falling on his hairy thigh. Lachrymose eyes wide and wanting. An innocent whore. 

(Just for him. Just the way he likes it.)

He groans when your tongue flicks out, lapping at the base of him, tongue ring rolling over his baby blue vein. 

You breathe in the smell of him—musky, manly: weathered wood, wet earth; loam, humus—and feel your core pulse at the heady scent burning your nose, clotting in your lungs. Your eyes flutter, dimming at the intoxicating miasma of him making your head swim. Your head rolls, cheek flattening on his thigh. The coarse hair tickles your nose. You rub your skin against his, the warmth bleeding into your smarting cheeks. 

His hand falls to your head, thumb brushing over your temple as you lick around the base of him, trailing just the tips of your fingers up and down his hard, twitching length. It's lazy compared to earlier, but you need a moment to breathe. To dilute the hypoxia in your head.

His hand is warm on your skin, like the thigh beneath your cheek. They smell of tobacco, smoke. Your eyes flicker up, catching his sapphire gaze. 

It's a small lull: a moment when you just take him in, feeling the pulse of him under your hands. Gentle, despite the burn in your jaw from how wide you had to stretch it to fit him. The scratchy ache in your throat. It's hushed. His hips flex in your hands, cock bobbing and dribbling prespend as your whispered graze only just barely touches the velvet skin. 

His fingers curl in your hair, eyes shaded in desire. He rasps low, a small breathless rumble spilling from his lips. "Better stop teasing me, love." 

You roll the ring over your bruised lips. "What are you going to do about it?" 

His eyes crease, tight around the corner. A little rumbling breath spilled from his lips. His chest sinks with his exhale. "You won't like to find out." 

It's not a threat. Not really. It's a promise.

There is a slight pressure against your jaw. Your mouth parts, falls open under his wordless command. 

"Good girl—," it's almost a snarl: ashy and brittle. "Keep your mouth open for me, yeah?"

He knocks your hand away from his cock, and curls his long, thick fingers over the girth. 

You soak him in, breathing deeply so as to keep the tang of him inside of your lungs. A whimper falls when he grips himself tight, head blooming vermillion and spilling more milky precum. He holds it there, letting you watch the way his prespend dribbles down the hard length, gathering at the seal of his hand. 

A huff leaves him when he sees your thighs rub together, eyes—dewy and lachrymose—fixed on the fat swell of him. The ticking veins running down the sides. Your saliva and his cum pool at the base, covering his heavy balls in the combined slick. 

It's intense. Blisteringly hot. You want him inside of you, splitting you open, and making you take him all the way to the root. Deep, hard thrusts until you can feel them slap against the seal of your cunt pulled taut around the girth of him. You want him to fill you up until you can taste him in your throat, until your belly bulges with the heft, ballooning from the cum he pours into your womb. 

You want him to use you. Fuck you stupid until you're swollen and full to near bursting—

The breath pops in your throat, sticking to your larynx when he pulls his cock down, the slick head dragging over your cheek. The noise he makes is caustic. It burns through you until you're gasping from the blue heat of him. 

He drags his palm up his length until the head disappears through the seal of his hand. The sound it makes is slick, tacky. Your thighs press together, tighter, desperate, to stem the ache, teeth sinking into the flesh of your tongue until the metal ball scrapes across your gums. 

Price looks at you for a moment, gaze softening in the flushed light of the lamp, and it's there you feel the throb in your belly start to thunder. You shift your knees, searching for friction, a little whimper spills out, quivering with longing. 

Sprawled on the chair, trousers barely pushed down his thick thighs, and with his flushed, wet cock sitting fat and heavy in his palm, he looks like he was carved from smoke, and made just for you. 

His beard twitches. The hand on your jaw tightens just a little. Just enough to bring you back into focus. Your eyes drop again. Obedient. Docile.

"Fuck," the word falls like the crack of a whip. He lifts the fat head of his cock from your tongue, and pushes it against the metal peaking through your flesh. Prespend drenches your upper lip as he rubs his cock over the piercing. "You suck my cock so good, love. You want it bad, don't you?"

You can't speak. Can't think— 

The wet, heavy thud of his cock dropping over your mouth makes your eyes squeeze shut. A whimper drags out of your throat when he does it again, and again. His cock slaps over your panting mouth, stinging your flesh, and making your cunt ache.

"Please—," it's slurred around the weight of him pressing against your mouth. Your eyes open, find his. Pleading. Begging. The words tumble out, broken and needy, from your blistered lips. "Please, baby. I wanna choke on your cock—"

"Fucking hell, love—"

His cock slips over your lips, your ring, and he pushes it down your throat, until the head of his cock hits the gummy, slick wall at the back. You gag. Tears blur your eyes, leaking down the corners. It's not enough to choke you, but it makes your chest tighten, and your head swim. Black dots moult across your vision. Your hands grasp his knees, fingers digging into the rumbled fabric of his trousers. Ground yourself. Breathe through it. Easy, and steady.

Hypoxia isn't enough to stop you from getting his cock as deep into your throat as you can. 

A briny purl slips out from his mouth when you gasp, tears soaking your cheeks. 

His thumb brushes across your cheekbones, smearing the tears that steam down, and catching them on his rough skin. The touch is softer than it has any right to be with him drowning you in the precum that weeps from the tip, spilling down your throat. It's gentle, reverent. The starchy, warm pads of his fingers ask if you're okay if you can take more. Always so considerate.

Your eyes lift, bleary and gritty, and you find him through the haze of smoke billowing out from the end of his cigar. 

There is a burn in the back of your neck, your jaw, but you breathe through the pain that licks at you, and hold his molten gaze, drenched in pleasure at the warm, wet give of your flesh. The pinch between his brow is full of euphoria, but it oscillates now with unease, with that cosseting veneer that makes his hands ease off your body, giving you distance. The very thing you don't want. 

The sight of him—dressed in shades of smoke and tobacco—pools inside of you like a sickness, a fever. He's a rough cut of a man: guttural snarls and resonant growls of displeasure, of anger brimming in the furrow of his brow, but you'd never been touched with such reverent adoration before. The smeared sheen under your eyes, the deep rubescent flush to your cheeks, and the lost haze in your eyes, all make him shudder with barely constrained desire.

He's greedy for you. Hands always on your skin like an addict; desperate for one more pull. One more hit. 

And yet—

Price doesn't take. 

He gives you what you want, always: the searing heat of his hands, the bulk of his body, the brutal snap of his hips sending you into the throes of nirvana, his teeth digging into your neck when you offer it up so prettily for him. But rarely, rarely, does he give into that rapacious hunger that curls like fine smoke in the pits of his eyes. 

You want him to break. Shatter. You want this man to fall apart in your arms, so you can reassemble him again. You want to be crushed under the weight of it with him until the end of him and the beginning of you is a blurry line. A pulverised puddle of sex and sin and the feel of your atoms stripped bare and congeal into one. To feel his flesh moulding to yours. 

The softness in his alder eyes makes you melt, makes you mewl, unable to keep the gale from spilling out. 

You want this. Want him. Want the hickory-scented ashes of his resolve in your hands. Calcined and charred. You want to tuck the smouldering husk of his propriety between your teeth until the charcoaled remains are ground out, and masticated with your effort. You'll see this gruff man shatter. Break. 

Leaning forward, you flash him a look—that pretty one he likes with your lashes fanned over your eyes, half-mast and full of lust, desire for him—and flick your tongue out again, barbell catching in the ochre glow. His hand trembles when you seal your mouth around the thick of him, hollowing your cheeks as you slurp up the mess of prespend and saliva that covers his throbbing length. 

He jerks in your hold, head falling back with a husk of pleasure. Ruin me, you think, molten tongue worshipping him. Wreck me.

He tastes of amber and salt when you swallow him down: heady and musky. You can't get enough of the way he wrenches you open like this, leaving you feeling like a raw wound, a livewire, with just his fat cock sliding down your throat. 

Fingers dig into the back of your head as he cants his hips up, thrusting inside the warm, wet cavern of your mouth. Your nose is stuffed, the scent of him clogs the air around you. You can't breathe, but despite the black dots in your vision, you stay put, gasping for air when he allows it. 

It edges into discomfort, but you fight through the strain in your jaw, and take him deeper, and deeper. You don't stop until his knuckles press against your nose, until you can feel his hand slipping away from the base, giving you more room. The coarse, auburn hair tickles your lip. You slide down further, tongue flat against the underside of him, and the blunt nudge of his weeping cock battering against the soft walls of your throat makes you gag, makes you choke. 

You sputter, tears running down your aching cheeks in an unstoppable deluge. Your nose burns, stings, when you breathe in. You cough around him, and he grunts at the way your muscles spasm, squeezing him tight. 

You pull back off the length of him, swallowing thickly. The ragged gasps you take do little to abate the burn in your lungs. 

Tears blur your vision, but you force yourself to open your bleary eyes, staring up at him through damp, clumped lashes. As your sight slowly focuses, the image of him leaning back on the chair, teeth grinding together is enough to make you dizzy.

It's the expression of euphoria that etches itself into the furrow of his brow, the curl of his lips—bared, snarling at the feel of your mouth—and the dangerous narrowing of his eyes that makes you whimper, makes you shake. White-hot pleasure spumes inside of you. 

You want more. Everything.

Your fingers curl around the base of him, little finger nestled in the wry bed of hair. He throbs in your clutch; a glob of prespend breaks free from the puddle pooling on his engorged, mushroomed head, and slides down the length of him. 

It makes your mouth water. It feels a little bit like battling the ferocity of a Chinook. Chafed cheeks, stinging lips all covered with the slickness of your efforts.

You must wear it on your expression, then. Price looks down, and groans, his cock jerking in your hold. His mouth falls open a touch, a huff of pleasure slipping through the seam. 

You shuffle forward, knees aching, and place your tongue against the swell of his cock beneath the slow glide of his prespend trailing down. It drips down, and you catch it, smearing the pearlescent bead over the soft, fleshy tip. The muscles in his thighs twitch when you lift your chin, showing him the droplet gathered there.

"Bloody fucking hell—"

You don't wait for him to continue. You want him broken.

He groans as the gluey, wet walls of your mouth surround him, slurping up the excess saliva that pools in your throat, spilling down your chin. You nearly choke on him, then, when his hips jerk as you lave your tongue across the head of his cock, pressing the bead of your tongue ring into his frenulum again.

His smell envelopes you. Heady and rich. A potent cocktail of salt, smoke, and cured wood that liquefies your self-control. 

Price's hips lift, more of his cock slips down your throat. You tremble when his hand threads through the loose strands of your hair, fingers curling around the locks until he has a fistful gathered at the base of your skull. You know what's coming. Know, even before his hand tightens, and the lash of pain makes your cunt throb. 

It's when you look up at him through misty eyes, lidded and sticky, that he finally crumbles. 

The sound he lets out makes you shiver. A moan cut by the jagged end of a broken bottle; husky and molasses heavy. 

You moan around him again, unabashed, and taken by the sensation of having him fuck your face in shallow, pointed thrusts. His hand tightens in your hair, pilling your pliant mouth closer. 

You love it. The taste, the smell. The inexorable feeling of him using you however he pleases, unleashing something dark and primal that curls around you, wrenched up from the hypoxia of having his cock spear through your esophagus.

There is barely time to brace yourself before his hips buck into you, forcing his cock deeper. The force of his brutal, shallow thrust makes his balls slap across your chin. The forceful gait of his hips increases until he's pounding your throat, groaning deep in his chest.

The noises he makes barely sound human. They drip molten sin, and burn your flesh when he leans over you, eyes sparkling embers in the soft light of the room. 

He stops when you gag around him, hands pressed flat against his thighs. 

"It's good, isn't it?" he husks, eyes tightening when your throat spasms around him, fluttering. Another grunt when you moan, a weak whimper that vibrates over him. He pulls you back, head tipping back with another rasp of pleasure. You squeeze your thighs together to stem the ache. 

Misty-eyed, you stare, transfixed, at the strain in his pale neck: skin pulled taut, veins bulging through his flesh. His Adam's apple rises and falls like a buoy in the middle of a turbulent ocean with each harsh swallow. His cock grinds against your gummy flesh, and you wonder, distantly, if you'd even be able to speak tomorrow. 

"Gonna cum—," it's rucked out of him, hissed low: the sizzle of a cigar on dry flesh. Your cunt throbs, jaw twinges with pain. Spit runs down your chin in rivets, pooling over your bare breasts. You feel battered, and bruised: throat raw and aching. But there is something intense about it, about the way he looks at you, now. The way he handles you. This, you think—thoughts a wisp in the static of your pounding head—and seeped in delirium, is him taking. 

His eyes lift. Sapphire shatters; a crack, a crevasse, a fissure split down the middle. Black pools, desire-thick, and covetous.

Price's mouth drops: the breath that spills from his lips is drenched in bliss. The hand in your hair tightens, fingers knotting through your locks until your skull stings, and tears leak from your babydoll eyes. A torrent down roseate cheeks. 

Broken cerulean falls, catches the cascade of them dripping on the swell of your flushed chest. His feet shift, thighs tensing under your hands, and then he lifts his hips again, sinking his cock all the way to the back of your throat. It's controlled, measured. Inch by inch until he's smothering your nose in the wry bed of auburn that scratches your wet nose. The heady scent of him is intoxicating. Your head swims, dizzy and burning at the sun-warmed moss and rain-soaked granite that clots, congeals around you.

"That's it," he slurs, eyes fixed on you. They tighten around the edges, eclipsed blue: the ocean at night, but his stare doesn't waver from the mess of you over his lap. Pleading, begging. Your gaze turns desperate. "Take it all." 

Liquid pleasure blooms in your core. Your cunt aches at his timbre: a cauterised wound; the hiss of a raging fire doused in water. The muffled whimper you let out makes him twitch against your larynx; a hushed groan falls from his lips. 

He pulses like a heartbeat when he cums; molten liquid spurting down your throat with each rumbling groan he lets out. He holds you there for a moment before slowly, deliberately, pulling your head back until the tip of his cock rests on your tongue, the slit perched against the barbell. He drenches the piercing in the last mouthful that spits out, eyes sharpening at the sight of it covered in his milky cum. 

You know better than to swallow it. Not until you're told. You hold it on your tongue, tastebuds overwhelmed by the salty, ozonic thunderhead tang. You keep it there, in your mouth, like a good girl. Like his good girl, and wait for him to catch his breath. For his eyes to clear from the sea mist that clouds them. It's liquid bliss in shades of blue and sea foam.

His eyes crease, heavy and lidded in pleasure. Pride rears in his languid expression. Good girl lingers in the crevasse you wrought. You shiver, spilling a dollop of his briny release down your chin. 

Price cocks his head, eyes hooded. His thumb catches the drop, staining his skin milky pearlescent.

His voice is a smoky purr when he speaks. It makes tremble, flesh fever-hot, at the stormcloud grey in his gaze.

"Any more secrets you'd like to share, love?" 

#goddddd #i am the worst mother ever sorry children that this was so late #captain john price #captain john price x you #captain john price x reader #captain price #captain price x you #captain price x reader #john price x you #john price x reader #john price #cod smut #cod #cod mw2 smut #cod mw #cod mw2 fic #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod price #cod x reader #cod x you #PSA if ur suck dick w a tongue piercing #be sure to clean it ladies

[redr0sewrites]

ROSE I AM FROTHING AT THE MOUTH RIGHT NOW- I HAVE BEEN HAVING IDEAS ABOUT WHAT A SUBBY LITTLE MODERN AARAVOS AU WOULD FO WHEN HE’S ALONE AND I NEED SOME TO WRITE IT PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU-

-your not so friendly (currently dying) neighborhood roach 🪳

teeheee....

🥀Cw: smut, phone sex, self edging, masturbation, praise, pwp, modern au, dom!reader

🥀minors dni

Aaravos had always had a high libido, and leaving him alone for extended periods of time often lead to him being far too needy. however, you couldn't help your busy schedule! as much as you adore your lover, you can't always be there to help him out and fuck him senseless. more often than not, when you were away, Aaravos had to turn to self pleasure to relieve himself. However, there was one small problem with that- it was near impossible for him to get off without you :(. he just needs you so much, and his hand just doesn't feel as good! this all led to the needy, desperate predicament he was in now.

"hngh-" Aaravos gasped, hips jerking upwards off of the mattress as he thrusted upwards into his fist. "fuuck hnggh-" He threw his head back into the pillows, abs clenching as he fucked himself into the tunnel of his fist. "ngh.. (name).." he groaned, whimpering as he climaxed, spraying his thighs and hand with cum.

Aaravos didn't pause for a second as his dick stayed painfully erect against his abdomen, and he began to stroke himself yet again. No matter how many times he made himself cum, Aaravos' lust didn't falter. Fantasizing about your hands, your lips, and your voice could only do so much. He kept his pace slow and sensual, sliding his hand up and down his cock, his thumb sliding over the slit where precum was already forming. Aaravos' thighs shook from overstimulation as he pumped himself, imagining his hands were yours.

"fu- fuck name, nghb i need y-you-" he gasped out, and suddenly an idea formed in his mind. what if there was a way for him to talk to you? Aaravos reached for his phone, hastily finding your contact with shaky hands. He immediately called you, quivering in anticipation as heat traveled up his face. He was still painfully hard, but he needed to hear you.

"hello baby, whats up?" you respond, cheerful as ever. Aaravos moans at the sound of your voice in his ear, thrusting into his fist as his back arched off of the bed. "i ne- need you soo much-" he gasped, little tears forming at the corners of his eyes as he bucked his hips fervently. you were barely surprised- after all, this wasn't the first time Aaravos got too needy without you. "awww, ya miss me that much?" you tease, relishing in the whiny moan from his end of the call that follows your taunts. "don't worry pretty, i'll help you," you coo at him and he whines.

🥀

"start off slow f' me, mmkay?" you drawl, listening intently to his labored breaths as he obeyed your commands. "now i want you to focus on the tip, can you do that for me?" Aaravos groans, nodding. "use your words," you whisper, and he gasps. "i-i can do that for you," Aaravos mumbles, stroking his tip and sliding up and down his length. Precum coated his tip as the knot in his abdomen began to tighten, and his thighs began to shake as a needy wail filled the room. his previous orgasms only added to his overstimulation, and he already felt a coil tightening in his stomach. "p-please, 'm so close baby, i needa cum.." Aaravos moaned, hips lifting off the bed to hump into his hand as pleasure overwhelms his senses. "hold it." you command, and Aaravos whimpers at the assertiveness in your voice.

Sobs and whines slip past Aaravos' lips as fat, glossy tears stream down his cheeks. His cock feels like it's burning with need, and hes so, so close, but he wants to be good for you. his brain fuzzes over as he continues grinding into the tunnel of his fist, the cum from his previous orgasm working as a lubricant to his ministrations. "please, i need it! please!" he sobs, pleading with you as his cock twitches against his palm. "i- i cant hold back!"

Aaravos' back arches off the bed as his eyes roll, and he hears your voice sound through the phone. Deciding to have mercy on his writhing, squirming form, you sigh. "Go on, pretty. you can cum." with your approval ringing in his ears he falls over the edge, screaming in pleasure as he comes undone. cum coats his thighs, soaking the sheets as hot white pleasure fills every nerve of his body.

you talk him through his orgasm, praising him for holding out for so long. "you did so well for me doll, your such a good boy~" you coo, smiling as he sobs in response. after a few more seconds, his whimpers and moans fade to heavy breathing and gasps. "are you okay?" Aaravos shudders, replying in his gravelly voice. "fuck, yes. i need to see you soon." you grin even wider at his words, elation filling you. "well, you won't have to wait much longer. open the door, 'm outside."

FIRST TIME WRITING IN A LITTLE BIT TBH IVE BEEN HAVING HORRENDOUS WRITING BLOCK😭 anyways this actually turned out better than anticipated soooooooo hehe

sorry if its ooc im trying my best💀

#the dragon prince #aaravos #aaravos x reader #tdp aaravos #aaravos smut #smut #tdp fic #tdp x reader #aaravos x you #dom!reader #sub aaravos #dom reader #sub character #top reader #aaravos tdp #aavaros

[sorrowsofsilence]

Faster II • Karlsson

Pairing: Jolly Karlsson x Fem!Reader

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: Smut (18+, unprotected PnV pls wrap it b4 u tap it), choking.

Prompt: you know what they say, guitarists finger faster.

PART ONE HERE

Author note: come here for a smooch my love @gretaswhore28 <3 This is just a small part 2 of the jolly oneshot ! (sorry its short I just wanted to get something out quickly today before work!) <3

THIS IS A FANFIC USING REAL PEOPLE IN A FICTIONAL SITUATION! I AM NOT IMPLYING THAT THIS PERSON WOULD DO THIS IRL OR ACT LIKE THIS! ITS FICTION!

Tags: (just keeping the same tags as on part 1 in case anyone else is interested <3) @sammyjoeee @cookiesupplier @nyxthedestroyerofworlds @th4t-em0-k1d  @lans-angels @dsireland86 @whenthesummerdies @spicywhenspeaking

With hasty hands, Jolly unlocked the door to his townhouse, immediately attaching his lips to yours as his hands roamed across your torso again.

His inked fingers danced up your body towards your neck, gripping the skin as he held you, pinned against the wall within the entryway, rutting his hips against your own.

You moaned as his fingers squeezed, Jolly’s mouth breathing into your own, before a loud cough sounded from behind the two of you.

Jolly pulled away, whipping around to glare daggers at the man whose eyes smiled behind the coffee cup placed against his lips.

“Ahem,” Noah coughed, taking a sip before placing the cup down on the living room table, “It’s about goddamn time.”

Your face warmed as he watched with curious eyes before you rested your forehead on Jolly’s shoulder in embarrassment, laughing into his leather jacket.

“Leave,” Jolly muttered as he gripped your wrist, pulling you behind him as he led you up the stairs.

You smiled at Noah briefly and he flashed you a double thumbs up, before grabbing his keys.

“Yeah I’m on it, I don’t want to hear this,” He laughed, slipping on his shoes.

Jolly tugged you along, and as soon as the front door closed you were shoved into his room, his door slamming.

“Clothes off,” He mumbled against you, tugging at your skirt, as you lifted your shirt over your head, throwing it carelessly as your hands pulled against his face. You were left in your underwear.

“On the bed, ass up,” He pulled away, nodding toward the sheets. You obeyed, crawling all fours onto the fabric before bowing down, leaving your body shivering. Goosebumps ran across your skin in anticipation.

You watched as Jolly swiftly removed his jacket, tossing it to the floor in a form of desperation you’ve never seen. He was already showing against his jeans, the idea of pounding into you leaving him almost frothing from the mouth in desire.

Jolly needed you.

And finally, he got the chance to fuck you senselessly, exploring your body in all the ways he’s dreamed of.

His eyes bore into you as he watched you exposed on his bed in devotion to him, licking his lips in hunger. With his jeans still on Jolly approached you from behind, his hands worshiping your skin as they ran across your bare body, fingers hovering over your need.

He slapped the sensitive skin firmly and a gentle yelp left your throat as your stomach clenched in excitement.

“You’re so wet already,” Jolly chuckled lowly, his fingers gliding between your folds before he pushed them into you.

You relished in the feeling of his fingers, but your body craved his, needing to be full.

“Jolly,” You moaned, “Please just fuck me. I need you.”

You heard him groan at your words, your confession pushing him over the edge as he unbuckled his belt, freeing himself from the hem of his jeans. Jolly leaned over, spitting on your body before running himself along your anticipation.

Your breath quickened as you closed your eyes, absorbing his touch as he teased you, satisfied as he pushed against you, before pulling away.

“I want this to last forever,” Jolly shivered, “I have waited so fucking long that I want to remember everything.”

“Please Jolly,” You cried, pushing back into him as your knees ached.

He pushed your ass up with his free hand, the other positioning himself before sliding inside. Jolly immediately exhaled deeply, sighing in complete lust as he thrust into you slowly, both hands gripping your hips.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” It took everything in him to resist throwing his head back; he wanted to watch himself slide into you, your slick coating him completely.

You pushed into him, meeting his ruts as you craved him to go faster. Jolly’s pace picked up, fingers digging into the dip of your waist.

Jolly’s breath quickened as he began to fold over you, hands sliding down your back towards your head. He gripped your hair, pulling you up onto your arms as well, complete euphoria taking over as he watched the scene ahead of him.

"Faster," You pleaded.

Your lips fell open in ecstasy as inhumane sounds transpired from your tongue, the feeling of Jolly fucking you hastily leaving you speechless.

“On your back,” He commanded, and you flipped as he positioned you into missionary. You pulled your thighs to your chest, opening yourself fully towards him. Jolly’s fingers gripped your throat again, pushing you into the mattress as his hips pulled in and out, eyes dark with infatuation.

You closed your eyes but Jolly’s other hand gripped your chin, your gaze snapping open, “Eyes on me.”

Your brows furrowed as you obliged, succumbing to his need, and refusing to break eye contact.

Jolly fucked you in this position for a moment longer before flipping you back over, desperate to watch himself fuck you once again.

He leaned over your back, biting kisses along your skin, hips pounding you from behind.

You cried in pleasure as Jolly’s hands gripped both your wrists as he pulled them behind you, using his fingers as makeshift cuffs, refusing to let you go.

“Fuck,” You moaned, your orgasm climbing as your abdomen clenched in excitement.

“I need you to come around me,” He begged you, wanting anything you could offer.

The room was filled with a string of curses and erotic moans, the two of you completely indulging in one another. Your body could only handle a few more pumps of Jolly’s senseless fucking before you collapsed around him.

“Come inside me Jolly,” you pleaded as his hands pushed the side of your face into the mattress, his animalistic movements leaving you hungry and yearning.

“Fuck,” Jolly spoke through gritted teeth as you watched him absorbed in your body, his fingers gripping your wrists in a painful bind as his nails attacked your skin.

Within seconds Jolly’s body twitched within yours and you squeezed against him. Jolly’s head flew back in yearning, his body overcame with lust as he released into you, the guttural moan heaving from his chest causing your stomach to stir in admiration.

“Shit,” Jolly breathed quickly as he pulled out, satisfied as your mixed creation dripped from your desire, the smile on Jolly’s face prideful.

You sighed in contentment as you sat up, watching the man in front of you hover over your body as he attached his lips to your own, kissing you deeply.

Your lips moved entwined, completely fulfilled yet still hungry for one another.

“I just want to fuck you all day,” Jolly whined, pulling your body into his as you lay next to each other, engulfed by the moment.

“You can fuck me anytime you want,” you smiled, kissing him desperately again as his hands gripped your skin, ready to devour you again.

#bad omens #bad omens cult #bad omens band #bad omens smut #jolly karlsson smut #joakim jolly karlsson #jolly Karlsson #joakim karlsson smut #smut

[aqricus]

not sure if you're a tighnari girlie but I would absolutely kill to be there during fox mating season when he goes into rut

to help him, of course, entirely unselfishly.... and not because I want to see him desperate to fuck me again and again until I'm exhausted and he's whimpering, continuing to thrust even with some of his cum from his previous orgasms spilling out of me because he just can't help himself, it feels so good to indulge his instincts <3

absolutely not because of any of that, just because I want to help him 🤭

I AM ABSOLUTELY A TIGHNARI GIRL. i cannot think of a single (legal) genshin character i would not froth at the mouth at the chance to talk about. i've even caved and started looking HARD at itto.

no bc i heard those voice lines of him WHINING???? AND???? oh my god. i'm thinking about this going down when you two are together but the relationship is new-ish?? like you two have only been dating for a couple months and are still a bit clumsy around each other when it comes to actions/words and are still learning about each other.

and he tries SO hard to keep his hands to himself and HIMSELF away from you, but YOU just keep intruding on his personal space out of concern bc he's so flushed and he doesn't look well. and, when he snaps at you and sees your face fall, he feels guilty bc he knows you're just trying to help. so, what else can he do but try to explain things to you in the most scientific, un-sexual way he can muster like there isn’t sweat rolling down his back and his cock isn’t throbbing against his thigh :(

and you, you're so sweet :( so prepared to help him and receive his vulnerabilities and needs with open arms and a body just as bare as his. at first, he's tense, not yet melting into your arms and instead tipping his head back to squeeze his eyes shut moments before he can succumb to the urge to kiss you and fall victim to his instincts. he groans and you can feel it rumbling in his throat when you press up close to him, and he asks you repeatedly if you're sure, if you're sure, if you know that you really don't have to.

he doesn't want you to think that he's just using you to relieve himself, bc he truly does care about you and he's still navigating how to effectively communicate that to a romantic partner. but, with the way he holds you tight, sweaty skin slipping against your own as he thrusts feverishly into you; the way he's either requesting a kiss or sealing his lips over yours before you can even finish asking him; the way he mumbles apologies and presses his lips against your neck and winces at the sloppy squelching sound of his cock sliding through walls already sticky and dripping with both his and your release; and, the way he doesn't stop running his mouth bc it feels so good and he just can't stop cumming . . .

you're more than aware of the way he truly feels about you.

#i still am not well-versed in tighnari's character so if this is ooc i am sO sorry LFNDKSL #tighnari <3 #genshin impact smut #tighnari smut

[thefrontofmymind]

ex!reader x matty healy ig blurb

FC: Heather Baron-Gracie

a/n: added on blurb

~~~

rass1975 via instagram stories:

yninstagram via instagram stories:

~~~

yninstagram we look kewl

view all comments

ynfan1 OMG YN AND MATTYYYYY

ynfriend sexy beasts xxx

>trumanblack thanks xxx

ynfan2 the goth council has come together to decide all our fates

bedforddanes pale bitches x

>yninstagram ill fuck u up

trumanblack im cool. yn did my makeup, its cool.

view all comments

1975fan1 i am frothing at the mouth rn

yninstagram fit

1975fan2 i so wish i was at this party it looks so cool

rass1975 Yeah yeah. You look cool get over it

yninstagram shut up i'm busy

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ynfan1 so prettyyyyy

ynfan2 I LOVE THIS

trumanblack fit

>yninstagram didn’t i just fucking tell you to shut up?

1975ynfan1 ok loving this tension,,,,

1975ynfan2 wait is that matty’s guitar???

>1975fan1 OMG I THINK YOURE RIGHT

nme Extra! Extra! Read all about it! Dirty Hit Records ushers in a new era, with the addition of YN on their roster. This news comes after apparent months of negotiation (and close friend of Matty Healy on her side!) New interview in our next issue!

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1975ynfan1 this has totally convinced me that theyre together why tf would they do a whole photoshoot together if they weren’t

ynfan1 am i the only one who doesn’t like the way they worded this? Like she’s such a good artist, the fact that she’s friends with Matty doesn’t mean anything! She got that record deal on her own merit

1975ynfan2 omg they both look so hot in this

1975fan1 goth parents

yninstagram throwback to when we were allowed outside

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ynfan1 where are you quarantining queen???

>yninstagram with a close friend babyyyy

ynfan2 so sad you had to postpone the tour :((( i was going to toronto

ynfan3 will the new album be postponed too??

>yninstagram hopefully not. Still set for later on in the year ❤️❤️

ynundates yn today performing at Reading Festival!!!

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ynfan1 ok so we haven’t seen her in TWO YEARS and she’s back and a platinum blonde????

ynfan2 newalbumsoonnewalbumsoonnewalbumsoon

>ynfan3 ikr SO PUMPED

ynfan4 did anyone catch a video of when she said something like ‘im in a different place now than when i wrote all these love songs’ and then i didnt hear the end of what she said???

>ynupdates its on our page! The full quote is “I’m in a very different place than when I wrote all of those love songs. Me and him aren’t together now so…Expect a breakup album soon!”

>ynfan5 omg poor yn :(( (though i wonder who she’s talking aboutttt)

yninstagram officially here to tell you that blondes don’t always have more fun. and i’m on tour in North America in three months get ready.

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ynfan1 AAHHH SEEING YOU IN NEW YORK

>yninstagram SEE U THERE BB

ynfan2 PLEASE come to asia!!

ynfan3 when is the album???

>yninstagram beginning of next year!!

ynfan4 yn looks so pretty with black OR blonde hair!!

yninstagram first show lets go

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ynfan1 the COOLEST fit

bedforddanes good luck mate.

>yninstagram thanks mate.

ynfan2 cant wait to see you in Milwaukee!!

1975ynfan1 does anyone else think its weird that yn and the 1975’s tours match up cities like 4 times???

>1975ynfan2 probably just a coincidence, there’s only so many cities in america

>1975ynfan1 idk its just yn and matty havent interacted in so long and it seems like theyve both gone through private breakups recently,,,,got me thinking

>ynfan3 maybe not the best to speculate on people’s private lives?? Lets just leave them to it?

yninstagram new single out now. Not Another Rockstar. its cool.

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ynfan1 omg wait the caption??? Is that a matty reference???

>ynfan2 idkkkk IM HERE FOR THE DRAMAAA

ynfan3 yn is straight up ethereal

charli_xcx so proud of youuuuu

>yninstagram Xxx

yninstagram london r u ready??

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ynfan1 so jealous im not there!!!

ynfan2 obsessed with this makeup!!

pollymoney looking lush!!

ynfan3 come to nz!

rollingstone “Growing into different people can hurt, but it’s always the way of life, we just have to move on” - YN talks touring post-covid and new album! Link in bio!

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yninstagram thank you for having me.

ynfan1 need to punch whoever she was talking about with the quote in the article ‘I was badly hurt by my ex, he’s said some horrid things about me when I thought our breakup was pretty amicable.’

ynfan2 i remember when yn was just starting out and now look at her!!

ynfan3 mother was mothering in this shoot

yninstagram what happens on tour, stays on tour. this includes going to bed at a reasonable hour and being on vocal rest for 20 hours of the day.

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ynfan1 saw you in Lisbon!! Best concert ive ever been to!!

ynfan2 omg obsessed with that top…

1975adam the joys of tour life hey?

>yninstagram dont i know it?

yninstagram new album, Nothing Matters, is out tomorrow. this is such a personal album for me, showing the deepest parts of myself. 

To you (you know)

Even though we spent months tearing each other apart, and we’ve both said some questionable things in retaliation, you know I’ll always hold you in my heart. I was at my best with you and I hope one day we can reach a point when we can be friends. I miss you and all the funny things you tell me when you stoned off your nut and barely knew how to speak anymore. 

Thank you, darling. For everything.

limited comments

charli_xcx beautiful album baby. top of 2023!

ynfriend love it!!

rass1975 well done mate. Its a good’un

trumanblack love it.

>yninstagram x

#matty healy x reader #matty healy blurb #matty healy imagine

[fettuccin-e]

Steve Harrington Fic Recs

Hey gang, I am violently attracted to Steve Harrington holy shit. So! I have many fic recommendations for the masses. Please give all of these authors so much love, they deserve it!! (Also, if you’re one of these authors and you’d like to be removed from this list, please let me know!!!)

Count the Ways by @iliveiloveiwrite

>> You and Steve go to a party together, where you immediately get drunk. After what happened with Nancy, Steve is nervous, but you just use your drunken state to tell him everything you love about him. (this shit is cute as fuck please someone just tell steve that we love him so much he’s the best)

You Make it Easy by @upsidedownwithsteve

>> You fought your way through the Upside Down together, and now that you and Steve are back in the real world, you just need to be close to each other. Just friendship isn’t enough for either of you anymore (this fic has everything: angst, fluff, smut. the holy trinity, so to speak. this shit made me cry tears of pure joy i fucking love it so much)

Can We Always Be This Close? by @upsidedownwithsteve

>> You’ve been in love with your childhood best friend for years, but there’s no way Steve feels the same way, especially when he’s got a new girlfriend every other week, right? (PINING. SO. MUCH. PINING. I loved this absolutely beautiful work of art. This is a long one though, so get comfy before reading gang)

The Babysitters Club by @judeswhore

>> You and Steve babysit your tiny baby niece together, and Steve turns out to not only be good with 14 year olds, but babies as well. (Fluffy, fluffy, cuteness. Also the image of Joe Keery with a baby is giving me literal palpitations) 

Girls on Film by @thranduilsperkybutt 

>> You use Steve as your subject for a photography product, but you both soon get a little carried away with the camera. (Very smutty, very cute, I love)

The Story of Us by @scarlet-star-witch

>> The story of how Steve fell in love with you, and finally got the love he has always deserved in return. (So cute, made me tear up at just the sheer adoration conveyed through it. Gorgeous.)

Have You Seen Her? by @luveline

>> Steve falls in love with you, his next door neighbor. You find that it’s pretty easy to fall in love with him, too. (I am such a sucker for mutual pining bro, it’s becoming a problem)

With Someone To Escape by @indouloureux

>> You crash your car and can only think of one person to call. The only problem is that one person is Steve Harrington and you broke up with him a few weeks ago. (augustine my beloved you have destroyed me with angst to fluff to smut how am i supposed to be normal after this)

Uptown Girl by @theemporium

>> You love Steve, you really do. Even when you have to pick him up drunk and clingy and ridiculously in love Steve Harrington. (this is just so fucking cute bro i have butterflies)

Sweet Peach by @s-brant

>> Eddie started the joke, really, but you ran with it. What you don't know is that Steve is very very affected by the new nickname you've decided to give him. (damn my daddy kink runs embarassingly deep i was frothing at the mouth over this)

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #stranger things x reader #joe keery love of my life #noodleficrecs

[uchihaharlot]

Could you possibly do a scene where their best friend/crush jokingly/teasingly calls them “Daddy”? For both Obito and Itachi? One or both? Pretty please?

Oh Nonny,

This is delectably so so so cute and also shocking for the two of them. These men both are emotionally dormant to some extent and have severely different reactions to being called Daddy. 😈

NSFW; if you poke the bear, the bear fucks you back. I’m gonna leave this one a surprise with no description; just know that I have all you Itachi sluts in my heart ❤️

Obito:

If you inadvertently call Obito daddy; let’s say you’re just talking and mention something about daddy vibes and such—that maybe he should try to be more dominant and that most women froth at the mouth for it. He flushes. This man has never once taken full control of a woman, he’s usually the one to be straddled and taken for a ride.

Not today no, you are helping Obito exercise his inner strength and his inner daddy dom side. Which turns out, comes a bit more naturally. Just a few words of encouragement from you is all he needs to pin you down at the training grounds. The wild look in your eyes further feeds his confidence, growing desire and cock.

Speaking of cock. It presses against you, not roughly but it’s prominent enough to not need an introduction. But he’s still going to introduce himself to you. Very out of character for him, but this is all so damn hot. Fucking your best friend?

‘You want my cock, baby? Ask nicely.’ As he kisses down your throat, fingers fervently working your slacks and his.

‘..god, yes.’ You feel the soft smirk ring his lips as he sucks your throat.

‘Yes, what?’ Hot and breathy, it causes goosebumps on your neck.

‘Mmm, yes daddy.’ Good girl he says back, very good girl.

Officially you have the orbital velocity of the goddamn universe between your legs, Obito’s fat cock slips into you and a whorishly desperate moan escapes your mouth. Your fingers clutch around, mapping his hair and shoulders, gripping and digging into him as he groans low in your neck. His pace is not kind nor mean; but needy. A man who has fed the whims of women is now feeding his own. Pounding the soft silk of your cunt as if it were a qualifying sprint, you’re such a perfect fit that the soft wet squelching sound of your pussy can be heard within the first few thrusts.

‘Such…a damn..good girl..so wet for me.’ he whispers as you moan yes daddy in his ear over and over. ‘Tell me when to cum baby.’

As if this was going to last long. You’re so close as it is, how delicious each deep thrust has your walls clenching and fluttering. Picking up faster and faster, ‘mmm Obi—daddy. I’m…gonna..’

Oh you shouldn’t have bitten him, I mean…wait. Yea bite him!! It just makes Obito growl low in your ear. ‘…want to fill your cute pussy…’

Gods. Those are the right words to moan in your ear, all you can whimper out is for him to cum. Because damn he’s coming with you. Those final four thrusts pushes his cum so deep inside of you, your squeezing cunt helps milk each warm spurt of his seed out.

A few deep breaths and Obito is making sure he didn’t hurt you. Kissing your lips and cheeks. Soft words of affirmation that you enjoyed yourself. The contrasting differences between his voice then and now are a stark reminder that underneath a man, he can unleash the most unholy fucking.

‘…I am more than good Obi.’ So cute when you call him that. It means much more now than before.

Itachi:

If you can this man daddy, it’s probably over him saying he didn’t think whatever you were up to was a good idea. ‘Yea, ok. What are you? My daddy or something.’ Which was supposed to be funny but it made his cock slightly twitch and stretch a bit.

‘I could be.’ It was meant to stay inside of his head but damn. Have you two not been hanging out more. Later, alone and unseen.

Yea, Itachi absolutely would like to explore this little fantasy. He’s now inundated with impure thoughts of you moaning that in his ear. Your reaction to his response makes it all the more easier for him to lift you against a tree. Asking you to say it again.

Full reset on your insides, you’re wet and stupid right now. Not dumb, but prematurely drunk on lust. ‘…yes daddy.’

‘Good girl.’ It comes out so naturally, smooth and fluid. Like your favorite shot of liquor.

But let’s be real here. You’re out in the open, Itachi would like to explore this little thing between the two of your more privately. What’s three seconds his time compared to you spending the next three days begging for his cock in Tsukuyomi? Worth every single time he hears your voice crack and whimpering in that false atmosphere he creates. Oh you had no idea, it was always the quiet ones you needed to watch out for.

And while it was short lived—for him, you can still feel and taste him vividly when you are established back into the living world. You look fine on the outside but your mind was just fissured and fried with pleasure. So many Itachi’s and cocks in every orifice of your body. Your olfactory nerves are shot to hell. You can smell the scant air of it all but not really, so much cum had been spurted into your mouth, on your tits and inside your soft cute pussy. That cute pussy he whimpered the first time he came inside of. It was a dirty thing to do to someone so unsuspecting as yourself but damn if you didn’t like being put in a genjutsu for once.

You’ll spend the abnormally quiet walk home in disbelief that a man so calm and stoic can be so damn enticing and …sorta brutal, but in all the good ways. Each time you think of this little ordeal your cunt will throb. He was never actually inside of you, but hell if this didn’t make you want him inside of you for real now.

#obito uchiha #itachi uchiha #obito headcanons #itachi headcanons #obito smut #itachi smut #uchiha headcanons #uchiha clan #uchiha family #Tsukuyomi fuckin

[definitelynotshouting]

Ask game #25?

mcytblr writer ask game

25.) What works and/or authors in the fandom do you recommend?

OH MAN..... GODS OKAY well this is about to become me gushing about my friends, but i think everyone and their mother should be reading @raichett, @droidofmay, @good-chimes, @sillyfairygarden, @sisyphean-writes, @renardroi's writing. Like holy shit i know some incredible authors. Grim in particular went and fully changed my brain chemistry with his fic Total Apogee of the Heart, which i do believe i described to him as "like reading an oil painting," and "like you've taken an axe to my chest and deftly split it down the middle to show me the inner workings of my heart," which is truly the palest of terms i can use to describe something that ended up feeling so soul-shocking to me /pos. The skillful way he twists words to layer these rich, saturated themes into his stories makes me INSAAAAAAANE, its pretty much the epitome of how i want to write when it comes to thematic elements and imbuing my narratives with symbolism. I genuinely dont know how to describe it, but the way he crafts sentences and weaves in references to other media is like reading a fairytale, and it leaves me feeling like ive just resurfaced from a dream every time.

And, ofc, my very good and dear friend Raichett with their ACP-verse-- oh my gods what an incredible read. Reincarnation fic with modern minecraft worldbuilding FUCKING SIGN ME UP..... i think this might be my favorite fic in the fandom because truly you can just feel the heart-wrench of how long Grian has been waiting, of all those words left unsaid during his and Scar's initial conversation that we the reader happen to be privy to. AND THE SEQUEL!!! THEE SEQUELLLLL THE ONGOING SEQUEL RAAAAAAAHH okay im normal im normal im normal <- lying. It just manages to hit every fucking trope i love all at once so i start frothing at the mouth whenever it gets updated or they send me snippets. I could read Raichett's writing for hours and hours and just feel so warm within it, truly beautiful prose and characterization :]

And ohhhh Sisyphean my beloved..... if you havent been reading their anonymous scarian fic series then please please do so, especially Bread and Butterflies, a fic they gifted me that made me simultaneously want to cry and also curl up into for the rest of my life. Something about the atmosphere in their fics, along with the juxtaposition of their unique form of humor, really just knocks it out of the park for me. And, of course, the gut-wrenching wing scene-- trust me, you need to read this fic. The reveal is so incredibly well done that it feels like a gauze being lifted from your eyes so you can finally see more than the lurking silhouette of what's been hinted at. Beautiful fic and evocative writing, i dont feel like i can do it justice you're just gonna have to go read it for yourself >:]

Sorry i told you this was gonna be me gushing so i am going to gush can we talk about Droid's fucking fics please. Can we talk about those. I've always been captivated by their writing, worldbuilding, and the way they so deftly weave implications into their prose to present a fic that feels so neatly-woven it practically breathes. Every work i've ever read from them, regardless of fandom, is some of the most engaging writing ive ever read before. Not to promo a fic inspired by hunger au, but im especially enamoured with their gift will the curse be reversed if you say it backwards. Reading that was like getting kicked in the chest a billion times until it ached, and the way they portrayed the two Grian's dynamics brought me perilously close to tears multiple times while reading, which is admittedly very hard to do. Also i think reading that fic is the closest ive ever gotten to what yall experience whenever i upload a new hunger au chapter-- i stg the dread i felt as the fic progressed had me HOLLERING in their dms like "IS THIS WHAT THATS LIKE. OH MY GODS" truly just a phenomenal fic all around

Thello, oh Thello, my beloved friend, her fic you are here to risk your heart had ME heartbroken in the best of ways when i first read it, and every reread since has only solidified it as a stunning cross-section into 3L!scarian's dynamic. Thello's writing in general is always so deeply elegant and refined-- reading it feels a lot like shoving the world's richest, gooiest, most delicately-layered cake into my mouth to melt on my tongue. She just gets intimacy in a way i rarely see done, highlighting the fragile way people can come together while straining to stay apart. Her writing is so deeply, utterly human in the details she chooses to focus on, and that level of groundedness paired with her fantastical prose makes me feel like what im reading is both very real and also the whisps of a beautiful, colourful dream.

And, last but very much not least, my wonderful friend Telk. Telk's writing is so utterly unique, bursting at the seams with both humor and a quiet rawness that punches me right in the ribs every single fucking time. They're also so deeply, insanely skilled at being able to say so so much in a story while dancing around the actual core of it, drawing you into understanding whats really going on below the surface like an event horizon. Their fic A Certain Je Ne Sais What is, in my mind, a particularly good example of the subtle and skillful way they weave implications into their work-- im perpetually in awe of how meticulously they poured Grian's cognitive dissonance between how he really feels about Scar, and how he wants to feel about Scar, into the narrative. That, and their characterization is genuinely flawless, im not sure ive ever read better character voices that capture the inherent humor of their owners than in Telk's writing.

Gods i have so much more to say about so many more of my friends and their fics but i'll stop here otherwise i will never shut up. Local guy loves his friends so fucking much i will shout it to the sky any chance i can take<3

And as a bonus, here's the hermit/trafficshipping collection i run on ao3, affectionately nicknamed The Body Count!! Its chock-full of incredible authors and writing, all of whom are my close friends, and its recently expanded to contain 60+ fics!! 60+!!!! INSANE. MY FRIENDS ARE INSANE AND I LOVE THEM PLEASE GO READ AND COMMENT ON THEIR WORKS BC THEY DESERVE THE ATTENTION :] THANKS FOR THE ASK AAAAAAAAAA OKAY BYE ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

#shouting speaks #asks #ask game #fic recs #hermitcraft #traffic series #hermitblr #trafficblr #hermitshipping #trafficshipping #mcyt #this ask is basically me dancing around jingling like a silly little jester while aggressively gesturing to my friends #PLEASE PLEASE GIVE THEM COMMENTS THEY DESERVE IT #EVERYTHJNG THEY WRITE IS PURE GOLD #long post #txt