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onlyjaes · 1 month

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hands (p.sh)

pairing. stepdad!sunghoon x fem!reader

— 𖦹 warnings. taboo relationship (stepcest), pwp, choking, fingering, cunnilingus, degradation, hair pulling, multiple orgasms

authors note. don't like it, don't read

(18+) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

you're thinking about hands.

long, slim fingers and knuckles that are a little prominent, a little pinker than the pale skin it is against. rough but careful ministrations, cradling the back of your head even as they yank your hair, pulling your head around so your gaze meets his.

hands, hands, hands... thumb brushing your lower lip before pushing past to rest on your tongue. hands on your neck, just enough pressure to have you seeing stars. or maybe no pressure at all. maybe they sit loose around the base of your throat like a collar to remind you of your place. they dip just below the neckline and you hope they’ll go further.

hands that press forward, hands running along your body, along every tender place—neck, waist, thigh. hands that still at the slightest response from you, pausing in a way that you can feel the smugness through his fingertips.

he loves it when you beg, he demands it of you; not with his words, but with fingers curled just right, with your legs draped over his and his breath hot on your neck. the only thing he loves more than hearing you beg is knowing you’re too far gone to do so, too fucked out to form words. he can pinpoint the moment it happens, too... feels it in the skip of your pulse, the way you clench around him. he loves making you look at him with a hand on your jaw and another between your legs, watching as you struggle to pull your eyes back into focus. "c’mon, baby, look at me, you can do it, yes, good, so good for me..." you want to pull him closer after that. sloppy open-mouth kisses, his tongue sucking yours as you cry out and ankles locked around his waist and hands clutching at his shoulders desperately, and...

“class dismissed for today! remember to turn in your papers by..."

class is over already? but you could have sworn you’d just opened up your laptop and logged on but your professor seems very clearly to be wrapping things up. a quick glance at the clock confirms that yep, you’ve been checked out for the last half hour of the lecture.

you need to spend more time focusing on your schoolwork, and less time lusting over your stupid hot stepdad.

sunghoon isn’t an idiot. he knows hooking up with his own stepdaughter is a bad idea. it is probably the worst idea he's had. he knows his wife would kill him.

but you’re making it incredibly hard for him to remember that.

you, prancing around the apartment in ankle socks and tiny little shorts paired with oversized sweaters that hang off your shoulder and make it look as though you aren’t wearing any shorts at all. you and all your casual touches... a kiss on the cheek when you thank him for doing some chore for you, a head resting on his shoulder when you sit next to each other on the couch, a hand on his arm as you pass him in the hall. you, sweet-voiced and soft-eyed and blushing at everything he says... dirty or otherwise.

you, buying a vibrator.

he’s always been curious about your sex life yeah, but you haven’t given him much to work with. you weren’t really in the habit of bringing anyone home. there was that one asshole named jungwon or whatever you’d been dating long-term when sunghoon first married your mom, but you always slept over at his place. sunghoon met him a few times and seen the way he treated you. it didn’t take him much more than five minutes of knowing the guy to be pretty sure there were zero orgasms happening.

and now… you broke up with jungwon. now you spend your nights in your room. now you share a wall with... your mom and stepdad.

and now you own a vibrator.

he wonders if he’ll be able to hear you. he's been living here almost for a year. surely you must have gotten off in that time. he can just picture you biting down on your lip, brows slightly knit as you shake and tense and arch off the mattress.

he’s always liked his partners vocal but for some reason the thought of you in his bed trying so desperately to stay quiet just makes him want to rise to the challenge. already you make the prettiest noises whenever you’re startled or excited or shy. given the chance he could coax a fucking symphony out of you, he just knows it. he just doesn’t know when such an opportunity will ever come.

as it turns out, though, opportunity does knock... and sooner than either of you would have ever thought.

friday night. your mom is working late and you're eating dinner with your stepdad. he has that stern look on his face 24/7 so you suggest cracking open a bottle of wine to share. to your surprise... sunghoon agrees.

he's always been on the stricter side. he always frowns when you do anything... risky. so you didn't think he would say yes to drinking with you.

neither of you are drunk drunk yet but the combination of alcohol and being alone together makes you both start playing never have i ever in your room. you both have glasses of wine in your hands. his pretty hands.

"never have i ever... uh... gotten married." you smirked and your stepdad just rolled his eyes at you.

"very funny."

"okay you go."

"never have i ever gone my whole life without cumming even once."

you turned completely hot as you wondered if he meant that.

"what?! where did that come from?"

sunghoon nods at the box with your vibrator. you just now realize that it's sitting wide open on your nightstand and you blush.

"just assumed."

you sit up quickly. "i just got out of a yearlong relationship okay. what... you think i've never cum?"

"have you?"

"yes..." he tilts his head and you get flustered. "yes god, yes! yes, i've had an orgasm before!"

"but...?"

you aren't sure what it is about this night, this moment that makes you so honest with him. is it the alcohol? or his gaze? the clear and cruel behind his glasses? "only by myself," you whisper and cross your legs to hide the ache between them. "never because of someone else..."

to your surprise he doesn't laugh or mock you for your answer. he purses his lips and shrugs. sighs. "at least you can get off on your own."

"yeah i guess... i just," you look back at the box, "it's different having someone touching you. i'd rather have that... without the orgasms.... if i had to choose." you look up at him shyly and look away. the atmosphere grows serious, vulnerable, and intimate. and then your stepdad snickers. you look up at him. "what?"

"you don't have to choose."

you roll your eyes. "yeah right."

"i'm serious."

"pfft. aren't you confident? are you sure no one's faked it with you?"

"faked it? possibly. but unlikely."

"jungwon couldn't tell i was faking it."

your stepdad scoffs, "he's a boy. he doesn't know how to pleasure you like a man."

"like you can do any better."

he goes quiet. it's unlike him... so unexpected, and you almost ask him what's wrong. but he says "come here" in a low voice.

"what?"

"come here y/n."

you haven't had enough to drink to be drunk. but as you move across the mattress toward him, you kinda know what's coming and you want to jump into him. you've been touched before, cuddled, but there's something different tonight. something about the way he pulls you onto his lap so that you're straddlign him. something about the feeling of his hand on your thigh, his palm on your cheek, his warm chest against yours.

"was that a challenge dear?" he asks.

"what if it was?"

sunghoon isn’t sure which one of you makes the first move or who leans in first but it doesn’t matter, because how many times has he fantasized about exactly this? how many times has he sat there on the couch with your head on his lap as you watched some mind-numbing chick flick, run his hands through your hair and beat back the urge to yank?

he doesn’t hold back now. one hand curls into a fist and he pulls your head back, forcing you to look up at him. but that's his stepdaughter! he can't just... fuck your cheeks are flushed and lips slightly parted—

he wants to fucking ruin you.

your hands are still against his chest but they went slightly limp in surprise at having your hair pulled. when he slides his hand up the back of your shirt, you seem to come back to life, winding your arms around his neck. you’re breathing faster than usual and he can feel your nipples through your shirt and you’re tugging at the collar of his shirt and yeah, if he doesn’t get your clothes off sometime in the next thirty seconds he’s going to go insane.

he doesn’t tear your shirt in half... he has more self control than that. much easier to just pull it up and force your arms above your head, and then before you can bring them back down, push you gently so that you fall on the bed, legs still parted around his hips and eyes wide. he tugs off your shorts and underwear, and you grab a fistful of the front of his shirt to bring him crashing back into you for a desperate open-mouthed kiss. he catches the back of your neck with one hand mostly for support, his hand big enough in comparison to your neck that he’s able to rest his thumb just below your jaw. when he gives your neck an experimental squeeze you gasp into his mouth.

interesting.

you as quiet as he'd expected. just gasps and whimpers. it’s cute. it’s also infuriating. he wants to hear you. he wants to hear you moan, beg, scream. and he doesn’t need a vibrator to do it.

you’re playing with the hem of his shirt. your fingers are electric against his skin and the slight touch sending flickers of desire careening through his veins and it’s too much and not enough and he reaches around your back to snap open the hook of your bra a moment before he lets you pull his shirt over his head, and there are no words to explain how it feels to have his stepdaughter's bare chest flush against his... to reach down and feel how wet you are. you’re soft and warm and so so wet, it’s driving him crazy and he isn’t even inside you yet.

as he pulls away and backs up to stand once more by the edge of the bed, you get into as upright a position as you can manage, trying to brace yourself on your elbows. “what are you...?"

the mattress slips out from under you as he pulls you forward by the waist, positioning you so that your hips are in line with the end of the bed as he sinks to his knees and buries his face in your cunt.

he doesn’t move slowly and doesn’t ease you into it. one moment you’re lying there bewildered, and the next you’re trying to buck your hips up against his face. trying because he’s holding you down with enough force you half expect to find his fingerprints there tomorrow.

he listens to you, pausing until you whisper yes and please. he takes each twitch of your legs and sharp intake of breath into consideration as he finds each sweet spot and latches onto them with precision.

you scrabble for something to hold onto, grasping at the sheets. he takes enough pity on you to reach one hand up... the other on your hips keeping you firmly in place... his pretty fingers interlacing with yours. another lick has you arching off the bed with your head thrown back and it takes you a moment to realize he’s guided your hand to the back of his head.

you thread your fingers loosely through his hair careful not to pull. he can tell you’re holding back because he makes a frustrated noise against you and then he turns his head and bites your thigh, his free hand pushing your hand against his hair. when he sucks on your clit again it’s startling and sweet and so intense that you don’t think twice about tightening your grip... unconsciously guiding him exactly where you need him.

the first time you really let go and tug at his hair he lets out a growl, pleased and primal. sunghoon's hold on your hips loosens, allowing you to ride his face in earnest with all your shy manners gone and forgotten as the overwhelming wave of sensations narrows to a point of pure excruciating pleasure and you finally cum.

he doesn’t stop.

why would he? now that he finally has you where he wants you. and vice versa if the way you’re still writhing on the bed is any indication. you’re still frustratingly quiet but the sight of you so lost in sensation and twitching with the aftershocks is enough to sate him for now.

you’re overstimulated for sure with your hand weak against his temple but all your protests are replaced by whispered pleas for more, oh fuck, more, daddy, more please as he slips one finger inside you. slowly. wet as you are and relaxed from your first orgasm of the night.

did you really think he’d stop at one? the thought makes him chuckle against you. he's two knuckles deep and to his delight he gets something more than a gasp. he repeats the motion and adds another finger and oh, oh, you sound just as good as he’d imagined. better, so much better. he moves harder and faster, working you out until he feels you tensing, feels you right on the edge...

... and he stops.

you whine. you’re turning your head up to look at him. he’s pleased to see what a mess you look: flushed face, messy hair, your lips kiss-swollen. your eyes still clear and soft with the afterglow of your previous orgasm. “why did you stop?”

he lets out a low thoughtful hum before turning to face you. “what’s the matter?” you’re taken aback by his eagerness across his face. he licks his thumb and smirks and you bite your lip. “one isn’t enough?”

"ah... uh..."

he climbs up the bed to meet you in another bruising kiss, the taste of you still on his lips and your legs spreading further to allow his hips to slot between them. once you’ve helped him get off all clothing below the belt you melt into his touch only to be jolted back when he rolls over to pull you on top of him.

“i stopped,” your stepdad grunts, getting a good handful of thigh to squeeze and smirking when he hears your moans, “because this time you’re going to cum on my cock my pretty girl.”

he pulls you against him as if to demonstrate and you can’t help but let out another louder sigh at the feeling of him long and hard and throbbing against you. you sit up to align yourself and the first press of him inside you is so good that your head tips back and your lower lip caught between your teeth as you bite back another moan.

sunghoon's voice is mocking but he breaks as you slide down to be seated fully against him with the tip of his cock practically kissing your cervix. “fuck... such a cock hungry whore.... cum once already and you’re still so tight. is this what you needed?” he starts leading you in an achingly slow rhythm and relishing in the way you clench around him with every thrust. you nod as your eyes flutter shut. the sting of his hand on your ass makes you whimper. “c’mon little girl. want to hear you say it.”

“say... oh fuck, i, fuck, daddy." you moan.

“you act so innocent. i bet you think about me fucking your pretty pussy all the time huh? you think of your stepdad fucking you? behind your mom's back? huh? tell me.” he fucks up into you hard, his hands on your hips pinning your hips to the mattress. “convince me you deserve to cum.”

when you reach for your clit he catches your wrists in one hand. “please.”

“please what?”

“please let me cum daddy.“

he shakes his head. “not good enough. if you’re desperate enough to grind on my cock then your slutty enough to tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

desperate, slutty... you’d never realized until now that degradation was something that turned you on. you bite your lip one last time and your eyes fix on his. “i want to cum on your cock. please daddy, fuck."

"that so? you want your stepdad to fuck you? aren't you such a dirty whore?"

"y-yes... i want you to fuck me hard. want you to fuck me all night." he rewards you with a few fingers circling your clit and you almost choke on a moan. ”i want you to fuck me into the mattress until i can’t think straight.”

sunghoon can’t help but shudder at that... at the sound of you. you, his shy and not-so-innocent stepdaughter. such filthy words in your sugar-sweet voice.

it’s only a matter of seconds before he has you on your back with your legs draped over his shoulders and he's filling you up at an almost brutal pace. he’s rewarded with the shaking of your legs and the frantic drag of your nails across his back, and most of all the way you can’t help but moan with each thrust as you grow closer and closer to falling over the edge.

when you cum again you seem to melt into him, clenching and squelching around him with the prettiest cries he’s ever heard and that’s all it takes for him to pull out so that he can come on your stomach. you’re still twitching as he does and all he can think as he collapses next to you is that he’d give anything to see you like this, fucked out and hazy and covered in his seed every day for the rest of his life.

“two orgasms,” he finally says, once the two of you have spent a few minutes in silence. “easy. your ex must be even more of an idiot than i thought.”

without thinking you press a kiss to his shoulder. “thanks,” you whisper. he doesn’t answer... not at first. not out loud. but a moment later you feel him shift, reaching across you to grab something from the nightstand. then he’s above you and kissing you. it's soft, deep, sleepy in your mutual post-orgasmic haze and you sense some mischief behind it. when he pulls back you see it in his eyes as well.

you blink up at him. “what are you..."

“making you cum a third time.” you can do nothing but grab your stepdad's shoulder again as he reaches down to lower the vibrator to your clit and as you whine again at the sting. you feel his free hand on your cheek and take two of those long pretty fingers into your mouth. he smirks at you. “why don't we test your limits baby?”

#enhypen hard hours #sunghoon smut #enhypen smut

1K notes · View notes

bi-writes · 2 months

Text

the lamb experiment

a body is given. and it cannot be taken back.

pairing: ghost (+ tf141) x curvy!fem!reader word count: 6.3k summary: the 141 are not known for their pliancy. in an effort to take back control, they send a lamb to slaughter.

cw: (18+) mature language and content, suggestive language and content, dark!tf141, military criticism, unhealthy power dynamics, graphic descriptions of violence + gore + torture + murder, themes of dubcon (but reader is consenting), piv, cumplay, fear play, size kink, praise kink, curvy!reader with hair long enough to hold

You don't think you've ever been the object of anyone's affections, not really. Although you are blessed with many gifts, even physically, you do not see yourself that way when you look in the mirror. How you feel inside betrays you when you look in one, and instead of staring too long, you always turn away.

This time, you stare. Because her ass looks nice, and her skin looks soft, and her face isn't disagreeable.

This reflection almost terrifies you. In front of you lies a woman you do not know.

She looks good. Your clothes are a size too snug, and it squeezes all the parts of you that normally you attempt to hide. Your thighs, the cinch of your waist, every curve you cover up with your uniform normally is on display, and instead of your hair in a standard bun, it lays free. You are anything but the soldier you always see, and just when you think about running, there is a knock at the bathroom door.

You open it, straightening out your outfit, and you look down shyly when you see the face on the other side of the door.

"It's...a little tight," you say, tugging at the waistband of your pants, but the woman tuts, crossing her arms over her chest as she steps back to look you up and down.

"It's as it should be," she responds, very matter-of-fact. "Now follow me. Need to debrief before your flight."

Her name is Laswell. You have not been graced with any other name, and you suspect it is because she wants you to call her Laswell and nothing else. She is blunt and intelligent, and there is no room for anything but the truth with her. If you answer her with a lie, she waits until she hears what she knows is expected.

When you sit, she spreads a few files out in front of you. Four manila folders, three packed with documents and pictures, one with documents only. You reach for one, eyeing the labeled name.

MacTavish.

You open it, and you're overwhelmed with the information. You see a man with pretty blue eyes and a military history that would put your old squadron to shame. Flicking through the pages, there are numerous confirmed kills, no small list of disarmed explosives, reports written by others and himself that even at a quick glance exude something impressive, utmost intelligence and extensive knowledge. You take note of his unique hairstyle; shaved sides of his head and tuffs of dark waves that run down the middle. You acknowledge how much you like when it gets a little long, falling in curls over his forehead.

The next file is equally as large. You flip it over, and you tilt your head to the side when you see a picture of him. He isn't posing, but his stature is one of confidence, and he's gorgeous. A strong facial structure, dark eyes. He keeps his hair short, and his skin is dark, and as your eyes roam lower, you notice the strong muscles of his forearms as he grips a rifle. His skill sheet is no less impressive than his sergeant counterpart. He has been in so many dangerous situations, and he comes out with nothing but scratches; and he seems to be deadlier with nothing but his hands than any small firearm could be.

Kyle. It's fitting.

You look away from his pretty face to their commanding officer. There is a picture of him with the other two sergeants, and you notice how he stands taller than them, but just as broad, and you think military fatigues suit him well. He wears his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and you can see the expanse of his strong arms and his large hands, and you take note of his carefully sculpted beard and the hat he wears. When you flip through the history, you are overwhelmed with the amount of ops he carries under his belt. This man is a war machine. You suspect there is a number on his head somewhere, in some distant country, and it makes you shift in your seat when you realize this isn't someone easy to kill.

He does the killing. And that's all that matters to the Crown.

John. That is the one that has to matter most.

"He's the one who calls the shots." Laswell's voice cuts through your heavy thoughts. She takes the last folder and opens it for you, and immediately you notice the lack of photos here. "But this is the glue."

Ghost. That is the name that sits on the official documents, but there is a dirty sticky note pasted next to it with Laswell's chicken scratch.

Simon Riley.

"His name is redacted," she says simply. "And so is his face."

"He has no face?" You ask, and when you realize how you worded it, you think it a stupid sentence, but Laswell only stares.

"Not one that matters," she responds. You look back down at the documents. He is tall, and you observe that he's most skilled with a sniper rifle, although he doesn't lack confidence or efficacy in any other form of combat. Hand-to-hand, smaller firearms, rifles, he uses them all with a terrifying accuracy, and you pull the papers closer to you as you read more.

"The glue," you murmur, not quite understanding. "And what am I supposed to be?"

"The solvent. The hammer. Whatever the fuck I need you to be."

The thing that breaks it apart. The thing that tears. The thing that makes them bleed.

And so you lie. It is what you do, what you are taught. Laswell is good at it, and you are a fish to water with it. You lie until it comes as easy as breathing, you learn to pretend until it is all you know, and when you create your second life, it is easy because it is the only one Laswell tells you to know.

You are a soldier, and you do as you're told. When your orders are to forget who you were and become something else, you do it, because that is how it works. And you know what you are in Laswell's eyes--you are a weapon, and you gave your body to the state, and she can do what she pleases with it.

And you know, really, what she expects you to do.

It isn't spoken of. She never says it out loud. But when you study the files she gives you, you notice there are more details that what is necessary. You learn more about them, in ways that feel intimate, that feel secret.

That John's favorite color is red. That MacTavish likes a traditional meal. That Kyle has a sweet tooth and likes jazz. That Ghost downs two fingers of Kentucky bourbon to unwind.

They are things to help make them agreeable, you think, but agreeable in what way is up to you.

But red looks good in lace. You've been told the stomach is the way to the heart. Chocolate is supposed to be an aphrodisiac. And alcohol is the perfect enabler--and armed with this information, you will divide and conquer.

Break and tear apart. Separate. Sever the bond. That is your mission, that is what you've been told to do, and you will do it because that is what a good soldier does, and this is all you are.

Laswell's pet. Her pretty little soldier. The hammer to her nail, the bone for her dogs, the string that will mend the ones snapped by her own puppets.

She wants control, and she isn't stupid, and neither are you. When you look in the mirror again, you understand why she picked you. No matter how far her men stray, they cannot change what they are at their core.

Men.

And men are fickle.

You suspect, you hope, even these ones are. They are not gentle, and Laswell makes sure that you learn well why it is they need supervision. She shows you pictures, videos, eyewitness statements of their spiral into violence.

It's not that they weren't war criminals before, but they were her war criminals. Unsanctioned ops, sure, but they toed a line that was drawn for them. But then the red tape became too much, even if there wasn't very much of it for them.

They began to ignore orders. When they were told to stay put, a sergeant would slip off, and under the guise of protecting them, all four would end up in a firefight. And when this became a frequent excuse, they stopped coming up with them. They simply showed up in manila folders like the ones you held, enemy casualties sometimes in the hundreds, and they did not appear even when required.

Debriefing? Their connection was bad. A hearing in front of their superiors? They're on a mark, and they cannot move. And then it was just silence. The occasional response to real crisis, and then back underground, until all Laswell could get from them were limbs taken off the enemies they weren't allowed to kill just yet.

They knew how to disappear. They knew how to hide. They knew how to stay put, come back up overground, and then scurry back underneath where no one would find them.

But that wouldn't do. Not for the CIA, not for SAS, not for either of their governments who soon realized they had let loose a group of soldiers-turned-mercenaries who hold valuable secrets that could put their politicians at the forefront of Congressional hearings, NATO violations, and then in the right mess of breaking off relations with a numerous amount of countries they already held fragile relationships with.

The 141 is a liability. They need to be the ones pulling the reigns again, no matter the cost--and they tell Laswell to do it, and to spare no expense and to pull back the curtain on what she believes might be crossing even the lines she has drawn before, to go beyond it.

She draws this line around you. A circle, a fence, wrapping around you as she molds you into what she needs you to be. She is honest. Not always kind, but honest, and because she is, you want to succeed.

Finally, you can be of use. Finally, there is something that will give you purpose. Even if it hurts, even if it kills you, you want to give her what she needs, because it isn't fair.

You have already given them everything, and you have nothing to show for it. So you paint your face, and you zip up the tight pants, you lie and you learn and you listen, and when she tells you that they will not be gentle, all you reply is, "I won't be either."

Men are fickle. And they fucking deserve this.

You are wearing red when John sees you for the first time. It is in your hair, a bright red scarf that keeps it out of your face, and you know he looks right at you and not through you when your eyes meet.

When he eyes the open door of your room later that evening, you pretend not to notice his gaze when he drinks in the sight of you in red lingerie.

It is the first morning you are with them that Johnny wakes to the smell of something in the rec room. You stand there, at the stove, stirring a wooden spoon in a warm pot, and when he steps in, you turn to see him, and you smile. You exchange no words, but when you hold a tasting spoon out to him with a soft potato and a spoonful of wonderful broth, he can't help the way he closes his eyes. There's a beautiful woman cooking stovies in the rec room, and when he opens his eyes, you are looking right back at him.

And then it's the music that plays in the evening that catches Kyle's attention. They are trailing back to their rooms after drills, and he catches sight of you in your room, and he can hear Ella Fitzgerald, and when you look over your shoulder, he is there, and he doesn't shy away.

And then--fuck--it is so easy.

Wherever you go, they follow. Unconsciously, you suspect, but they do, and you live the lie, and it feels fucking euphoric. You know you've won when you run your knuckles down John's cheek for the first time, and he keens, nuzzling the side of his face into your hand and chasing after your touch.

They are animals. You watch them when you join them on ops, rifle in front of you as you follow them, and you keep a neutral face as you observe them wreak havoc. They kill and they maim, and they sleep like the dead at night, as if the heinous ways they kill do not bother them at all. John points, and Kyle pulls the trigger. John nods his head, and Johnny detonates, nothing but a dull reflection in those blue eyes. John clicks his teeth, and Ghost sweeps.

He sweeps, and he kills, and if it wasn't so fucking terrifying, you would have admired the way he did it. The elegance that he took on an entire room of moving targets, how he never let himself be pinned down in one spot. Whenever someone gets too close, he goes hand-to-hand, and it's fucking brutal the way he finishes them off. He keeps throwing knives in his boot, and they sink into eye sockets as if running through tender meat. He puts blades through their mouths and doesn't let them go until the light leaves their eyes.

You hate that it makes you warm. That there is something deep in your belly, that twists there, that tells you that you like it. When he turns around and meets your eyes, wringing the blade out of someone's neck and letting them drop on the floor at your feet, you don't flinch. You simply kick them to the side and step over them, and Ghost watches as you lick over your teeth as you pass by him.

Insatiable. Fucking hungry. He eyes the sway of your hips, and when he finds his next target, he uses his hands again just because he needs to feel flesh under his gloved hands, needs to tear it apart. And when he feels you watching him again, he grunts as he stands to his full height. He's a fucking bear, and you leave him with a hint of a smile before you turn the corner.

You are not sure if you are pretending that day.

They ravage, and then they go back to their beds, and they wash the blood from their clothes with ease--and the worst part of it all is that you do it, too. You come out of the same places that they do, and your face is splattered with their targets. Your jeans have flecks of brain matter, your hands are dirty with someone's singed flesh. When you finally stand in the light back at their base, all John does is sit you in front of the bathroom mirror and wipe at your face with a warm towel.

He tells you how good you've done. How special you are. How he has never seen a woman keep up with them so easily, fit into their pack like she was meant to be.

He says that you belong, but he doesn't say to who. You wonder, for a second, if he means that you belong to them all.

When you report back to Laswell, you tell her this. What you don't tell her is what you've had to do to gain this status. You don't tell her about the blood you spill. You don't tell her about the bodies you see or the men that lose their faces or how worked up the boys get after an op and how it takes them hours between your legs to lose the adrenaline.

You don't tell her this because this is for you. It's all for you.

They tell you things you aren't supposed to know. When you're in their beds, they talk, and you listen. Kyle tells you about the man they are keeping in the cellar. That he's been there for 29 days, and he hasn't said a word, but that Ghost will be next to speak to him, and he will talk then.

Kyle tells you that it is a mercy that Ghost hasn't visited him yet, but they are done playing nice. When he says this, you have the image of Ghost standing over a man who pulled a gun on you in your head, and you remember watching him with a sickening relief as he pressed his thumbs into the man's eye sockets and pushed they were nothing but squished matter. You squeeze your legs together; and this time, you don't feel bad about it.

Johnny begs for you, his bonnie lass, to keep close to him on the next op because you strayed too far today. He fucks you to make you say yes, his lips on your ear as he tells you to promise him that you'll do as he says, and that if you promise, he'll let you come. So you promise, and he fucks you boneless, and the next day, you are glued to his hip when you raid a foreign embassy for nothing but answers.

You know they know. They don't say it out loud, but you know that they all know where you go at night. One night, you are kneeling under John's desk, kissing the pearly tip of him before taking him down your throat for what feels like hours. The next, you are letting Kyle bend you over his desk, rattling it against the wall as he tells you how pretty you are. And in the morning, you are pressed against the shower wall, Johnny holding your wide hips in his hands as he fucks into you, begging you, bonnie, please--give it to me, tha's it, right there, ye can do it, good girl--

Good girl. That's what you are. You're a good girl, and you do as you're told. You smile, and you keen, and you give them big, soft eyes, and you let them have the illusion of control. Maybe they think they're pressuring you. Maybe they think they scare you. Maybe they think this is why you get on your knees for them or let them pool your pants at your ankles or allow them to have you whenever they want, but the reality is that you want it, and you need it, and this is working.

They don't even realize you've fucked them into submission because they're too busy showing off.

A domino effect. You expect them all to fall once you have the captain, but there is one chess piece that does not move willingly.

Ghost.

He is an unmovable object. He stands still and rigid, and he is a statue that refuses to be pushed or pulled in any direction but one he deems. Even in the middle of the nights, when you notice he is awake, he never joins you when you drink his favorite bourbon outside. He doesn't ask for a cigarette when you smoke one, even though you never actually take a puff of it. He passes by you, and he doesn't look at you, and you are invisible.

You want to be content with what you've accomplished, but it isn't enough.

This is the glue. He is the glue, and without him, everything falls apart, and you cannot fail. There isn't room for it. And maybe you feel bad for preying on the parts of Ghost that you think he prefers to keep hidden, but you need to catch him before he gets too far away.

A kitchen accident. A knife that plunges too deep, that draws blood and makes you cry. You are in the bathroom, tears coming down your face, blood in the sink, and your hands are shaking as you try and patch yourself up. You are loud enough to draw the attention of the lieutenant whose door is only just across the hall, and when he sees you there, he doesn't leave you.

One moment there is nothing, and the next, he is behind you, a pervasive warmth at your back, and you whimper when a gloved hand wraps around your injured hand. Wordlessly, he turns the faucet on, running your hand under the water, and you hiccup, looking away and breathing deeply.

He wraps your hand in his room. You sit on his bed, and he works to cover the wound, and you know he has done this before. Soothed another's tears, quieted soft cries, covered up cuts and bruises and things that will scar.

He kneels in front of you, and when he stands to his full height, you tip your head back to look up at him. You think you will meet a soft gaze, but he glares, and he seems angry. When you open your mouth to speak, he tsks, and your tip trembles as you close it.

"Y'can fool the others," he says lowly, finally. "But not me."

You frown, confused. When you sniffle, he snarls.

"I know why y'r here," he murmurs. "Isn't the first time Laswell has sent one of her little...toys."

You clench your jaw. For a moment, something envious rattles you. You aren't like anyone else. You are certain no one has accomplished what you have, that no one has gotten this close to rock the fucking boat or pet the beast. He doesn't get to demean the progress you've made like this, even if he's figured you out, because you aren't going anywhere.

Not until you get everything you need.

"Excuse me?"

"Y'r a spy. You're CIA's whore, and I don't like y'here, puttin' y'r bloody nose where it don't belong," he kneels, his voice low and gruff, and he reaches over and grips your chin hard. "Y'may have fooled them. In their fuckin' beds...in their heads--" He draws you closer, and you swallow. "But y'r not in mine."

You meet his eyes. They are dark, and they are meant to scare you, but the feeling that runs through you isn't one that terrifies you. He is a magnet--and you can feel the field of his presence, and it has you. This is supposed to be your show. They are men, and they are stupid, and you hate them, and Ghost should be eating out of the palm of your fucking manicured hand, but there he is, spitting against his mask, and it is you that aches to see what is underneath the cotton.

"So, little lamb..." Ghost rumbles, and it is with his entire chest that he speaks. "Wot is it you're here to do, eh?"

You shake your head, "N-Nothing. She...all she told me was that this was a joint operation...CIA and SAS--"

"Y'r on the piss, I know that," he hisses, clicking his teeth. "Joint operation," he laughs, but it is without humor. "Is that we're calling this now? Being barracks bunny for the 141?"

"Fuck you," you snap, shoving his hand off. "You're a fucking bastard, and if you think--"

"If I think wot, eh?" He stands, and you choke as he grips you by your throat, lifting you off of his bed and forcing you against the wall. You grip his wrist, but it is useless, because he's a brute, and you are nothing to him. He holds you there on your toes, and you grip him tighter, but he doesn't budge. Even digging your nails into him doesn't make him flinch. If anything, he seems amused. "Wot kind of trainin' she make y'do, eh? Did ya have to practice? Who'd y'shag to get y'r stripes?"

"Eat shit," you spit, and he snickers. There is fire in your eyes, venom on your tongue, you are a fighter, and when the world is so quiet, fighting feels good, and he knows this feeling well. He understands what it means to be nothing and then something, what it means to worthless and then useful in the eyes of government and government alone.

Because you are useful, but only to Laswell, and only as this, whatever this is. Whatever you are. Pet, prize, toy--it doesn't matter what the name is today, but it will stick tomorrow, and you wonder, sickeningly, if that is your destiny.

To be unknown. To be used. To be the property of what you do not know. To be given, to be taken, to not know and to be content with not knowing.

To accept it because it is still better than whatever you were before.

He sees this. He looks into your eyes, he breathes in, and he hums, and when his grip loosens just enough, you put your toes on the ground, and you lean in, and there you are.

One and the same. Bitten, chewed, spit out, two people who are products of their suffering and the culmination of their sheer fucking will to live, even if the living is miserable.

Maybe that is what it is. Maybe it's what's broken that will put you together. Ghost is the glue, you are the solvent, and you will make it so.

Because I can't fail, I can't do it, I won't go back, I can't go back--

"I'm here for me," you whisper. "I'm here for me, and no one else--" You gasp, and it isn't a lie, not really. You are here for you, this is for you, even if it is at the downfall of someone else. If you need to step on necks to get ahead, you will.

Ghost is the last piece. The last one you need to move. He is stuck, but now you know what it is you need to do, you know how to set the game into motion.

"Ghost," you breathe, and it's soft, it's quiet. You meet his eyes, and you lean close, and he feels your breath on the front of his mask. "It's not what you think."

"You're a lamb."

"I don't wanna be a lamb."

"It doesn't matter what y'want, y'are a lamb," he growls, and you whine, and he hums, and you can see the crinkle of his eyes, and you know he must be smiling. "Tha's wot y'are, and y'can't run away from tha'."

You blink, and he stares, and there is understanding. You are prey, and you belong, but you don't know where. But then you remember you are a soldier, and it isn't your job to know. Your job is to lie still and let them have you.

And to not tell my handler how much I like it.

"It's what they made me," you whisper, and when there are tears in the corner of your eyes, he is gentle. He smooths his hand down your throat, rubbing a thumb over your trembling lip, and you know that he understands you. "It's not what I wanted."

"It's never what we want," he murmurs. "Never."

You hold your breath when he cups your face with a big gloved hand. Dark eyes on soft ones, and you wonder what it would be like to have him. He doesn't keen the way John does, doesn't kneel the way Johnny kneels, doesn't follow and listen without objection the way that Kyle does. No, he's a brick wall, and you need to be what knocks him over. You need to shake the foundation, split it in two.

You need to sever the fucking bond and do your fucking job.

"So when can I have what I want?" You ask him softly. "When...when is it my turn?"

He tilts his head to the side, curious, and you slide your hands up his forearms, over the muscle of his biceps. He is everything you cannot have.

And he is everything that you suddenly realize you want.

Forbidden. Unrelenting. The oxygen to a raging fire. He isn't the glue, he's the catalyst to whatever the fuck you bring to the experiment, and even though you know this will be disaster, you want it. You want it so badly.

Destruction tastes so good. Control is victory. Sex is power, and you want him, you want this, you want him to have you, to own you, to make you see what he sees, because it will be familiar because you are the same.

"Y'r a soldier," he says lowly. "Not about what we want. 's about what they want."

"Fuck what they want," you groan, looking away, and then a few tears slip down your face. "Fuck what they do with us. If I die for them, they only tick some fucking statistic. It means nothing. So why can't I do what I want with the time I get before...before I'm just...before I'm nothing again?"

And there it is. The mirror you hold up. The common ground. The level playing field. The two paths that cross, this is it, I have it, I have it, I fucking have it, I have him, he's mine--

He kisses you. You don't get to see his face, but his lips are there, a precious amount of skin that you're blessed with seeing until your eyes are closing.

His bed is warm. He fills it well, the breadth of him almost too much for its size, but it doesn't matter because he fucks so well. He eats your cunt because he's hungry, your thighs on his shoulders shaking as he laps at your wet folds.

He does this different. John is soft and slow, Kyle takes his time, and Johnny is always eager and sloppy. But Ghost watches. He slides his tongue in soft motions, watching, and when your thighs twitch and shake, he does the motion again. He flattens his tongue and drags it, and when you whine and arch your back, he revels in the way you move. He drinks what you spill, he fucks you with his tongue, and this is different because this isn't just attraction.

There is something about him. Something underneath the layers he covers himself with, under the mask, something that you can see that others cannot even though he doesn't take those layers off.

You know this is true when he's inside of you. His mask hasn't come off, but his mouth is on your ear, and he groans, and he talks, and you feel like he spoils you this way. Ghost never talks. You wonder often if maybe he has a limited amount of words, and he never says more than he has to lest he runs out of them. His eyes speak, and it's more than enough, but now, he talks, and it is a gift, and now you know.

He cradles your head as he fucks you, and he kisses you until you can't breathe, and then when he talks, it takes everything in you not to beg for more.

"Such a nice cunt...'s so nice..."

"Fuck--y'feel me, luv? Right there--" And he presses his palm down on your stomach, and you cry when he grabs your face and forces you to look at him, because he's cruel and he's mean, but his cock feels so good--

And you think it can't get better, and you think he can't go any deeper, and then your thighs are wrapped around his waist, and he's leaning over you, and you think you're forgetting your name.

You forget yourself. You forget the reason you're here. It's so hard to think when you're not yourself, when your mind is in the stars, when everything feels far away and so close all at the same time. There is a place for him inside of you now, and you know that even though he will ruin you, even though he already has, you will never be rid of him.

You've severed the bond. You've made your own.

When he kisses you again, and when he grinds his hips down so nice that your clit aches, you know suddenly what it feels like to have real control. The feeling that Laswell chases, the feeling she wants so fucking badly that she's made your body a weapon, your cunt a tool, your brain the hivemind that will make her every wish come true, you understand now.

You will make the sky blue, the birds sing, but you did not realize the power you held until you had Simon "Ghost" Riley buried so deep in you, that you aren't sure you're even really here anymore.

You gnaw on his arm, your tongue tracing the tattoos there. You taste sweat, and you swallow it, and you go numb thinking about having more of him inside of you. You want to bite and eat and take as much of him that he will let you--no.

You will bite and eat and take as much of him that you want, because he's yours, and you get whatever you want.

Your fingers grasp the cotton of his mask, and your grip is enough to pull his lips off of you, and when your eyes meet, the gaze is different. He's desperate. For once, there is something disorderly there, and he pants, and he wants something from you, and finally you have something to give him.

You fuck it out of him. You lay him on his back and let him look at you, and you fuck him because it feels good, because you want it, too, because it's all that matters. You cry into his mouth, sob, "please--! please, please, please--"

And he tugs on your hair in response, guiding your hips as he loses his composure, "'ve got you...y'r mine...'s olright, yeah--nggghhh, fuck, luv, th's it..."

You do want it. You do need it. You need them, but you want Ghost the most, because he is the piece that does not move. He is not willing to do anything except for the sake of his pack. Ghost is impenetrable, even your pretty cunt isn't enough to change his mind, but that isn't what this is.

This is mercy. Ghost, he is the product of all of his misery. You, you are the result of every man to ever betray you, the outcome of your unwavering desire for revenge. You are the same, somehow, and he knows this, and that is why can't help himself. That is why Ghost is underneath you, that is why he bares his mouth to you and lets you lick into it and allows you to taste the forbidden fruit.

Because he thinks you are him, and he thinks you think so, too, and all he's ever wanted in his life is just for someone to see him the way he saw himself.

When he comes, he paints your cunt and fills you, and you collapse, your body on fire as you come down from a high that takes your breath away. His big hands cradle you against his chest, and you don't move, too afraid to let go, and he kisses your face when you whimper. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and when he pulls out, you gather it up on your fingers and suck. He groans, and he kisses you, and then he sinks back to his knees because he doesn't hear the ringing in his ears when his mouth is on your pretty pussy.

You're just a lamb, it's all you are. Handpicked by Laswell to head into the lion's den, a scarred animal that has no one to protect her, straight to slaughter.

He knows what it feels like. He knows what it feels like to be used and forgotten, to have nowhere to go, to be backed into a corner with no way out, and he pities you.

Ghost pities you because there is nothing behind your eyes except fear. But it's a lie. You're so good at it now. It's a lie, and you tell it so well, and you're warm inside. Not from taking the last moving piece, but from the satisfaction of knowing you have done what others cannot. What others never could.

It's late when you finally settle beside him. He leaves you when you ask for something to eat. You watch him slip clothes on haphazardly and leave, the door swinging shut behind him as he shuffles to get what you need.

To provide. To protect. To shield. Ghost is good at those things, you knew he would be. A man does not nurse a brother back to health without it, does not protect his mother and defy his father without being good at being a dog.

He's a good guard dog. And when he goes, and the door is closed, you smile because the dog is mine, all fucking mine--

You reach for your phone, and you pull up the only contact in it. You type a simple message, and then you send it, and for good measure, you shut the device off, tossing it into the pile of your discarded clothes.

>> we have joy.

You are good at pretending. You can tell a lie without blinking. You have been taught to be this thing, and you do it well, because you are a soldier, and this is your mission, and you cannot fail, and you didn't fail.

When you see Laswell again, many weeks later, she is not surprised to see you covering up with long sleeves and keeping your hair down. One tug on the collar of your shirt, and she gets glimpses of the love bites that have marked bruises all across your skin. She lets you go, tells you to sit, and she smirks.

You smile back this time.

Men are fickle. And they fucking deserve this.

"Good girl," she takes out another manila folder, but it's different this time. When you open it, you have schedules of upcoming ops, intel the boys are working, evidence of their reckless abandonment of order in favor of the chaotic success of getting the job done. You have seen this first hand, you know what they do and how they do it. But now there is another factor, another subject, right in the middle of it all. It is you.

Laswell takes a seat, spreading out the papers, and you meet her eyes. This time it's different. This is the truth, and you want to feel bad for your betrayal, but you don't. The fact of the matter is that you and Laswell, together in this room, have more power at your feet than you know what to do with.

A lamb to slaughter, and yet you sleep with the wolves.

"Alright," she says. "Now let's get to fucking work."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #dark!simon #dark!soap

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thekeystothebasement · 1 year

Note

Hallo! could i have maybe hcs for 141 + Alejandro & könig with a female s/o who's into breeding kink?

A/n: Enjoy this late and very filthy Christmas gift!

Captain Price:

You couldn't keep your dirty secret any longer, not with the way he was mounted on you, his mouth working on leaving marks on your neck

Your words were meek and breathless but that didn't stop the sounds from reaching his ears.

His body went rigid and his eyes wide, he pulled away from your hold, his chest heaving heavily as he looked down at your embarrassing state.

You had your hands covering your face at your confession.

Price would make you repeat your words in a snarkish tone. A wide grin on his face as he pins your wrists above your head

"I...c-cum inside me...please."

Price would let out an obnoxious laugh before he starts to rail you again in a mating position.

You would wrap your legs around his waist, securing him and locking him into your pussy.

The first time he listened to your pleas and cummed inside of you was life-changing.

The feeling of your wet cunt greedily milking his balls of his cum made him rethink everything he knew about himself, maybe he had a breeding kink as well.

What made him feral the most was watching his cum pour out of your cunt, with a growl his cock was inside of you once again.

"Your loose cunt is wasting my seed, princess," his harsh words make you whimper. "Am I going to have to buy you a plug to keep my cum from spilling out?"

He teases you about your kink constantly

He'll let some snide remarks escape him, sometimes around his men that will leave you red.

Likes to see you begging and crying for his cum, to mount you and breed you like an animal

"Please daddy, I want your cum."

Expect him to constantly indulge your kink because his favorite thing to do is to stuff you full of his cum and stuff a plug inside of you

He can't help but feel prideful knowing you're running around the compound with a womb full of cum.

Ghost:

Ghost bullies you constantly for your kink

Snide remarks here and there, not caring for who hears because, at the end of the day, it's his cum that is stuffed inside of you.

The only verbal confirmation that lets you know that you aren't the only one with a breeding kink are the dirty phrases that he spits at you when he's pushing himself deep inside of you.

"Can't wait to you see round with my children."

"Take my babies, that's the only thing a slut like you is good for."

Seeing his cum inside of you makes him feral, it's his way of claiming your body

Loves to see you beg for his cum, if you don't he'll leave you before your orgasm hits, leaving you whining and sensitive. Probably says something harsh like, "Don't act like your the only slut that wouldn't kill to carry my kids."

Ghost doesn't play around, especially with a breeding kink it makes him territorial.

Constantly feeds into your breeding kink because of how easily jealous he can get.

Soap looks in your direction?

You are already bent over the table with his cum pouring down your thigh, his fingers trying to pump his cum back into you, berating you for wasting such precious seed.

Mean ghost takes it a step further and buys infant boy onesies and fuck you over them, growling into your ear to give him a baby boy.

Soap:

Soap will happily indulge in your kink

Will tease you about it in front of others, some sexual comments like "Wait until my bonnie tits start leaking milk, you won't see me eating any of that military shit."

Loves to cum inside of you because of how your pussy squeezes him dry.

Loves to take polaroids of your stuffed cunt, his cum oozing down your lips. Also has some polaroid selfies of himself eating his cum out of your cunt.

He may or may not show the others the polaroids he has, bragging how his lass loves to milk his balls and begs for his babies.

As much as he loves to breed you, he also deep down wishes you do get pregnant because he'll love to have a kid running around, a product of your love.

Soap loves it when you beg for his cum, to give him your babies.

When he fucking you, he likes to suck at your nipples, and nip at them. Loves it when you whimper and cry at his teasing, telling you he's preparing you for the baby.

Loves to breed you in the doggy position, which drives him feral.

A weird kink that he developed because of your breeding kink is seeing you dressed up in cow lingerie. Especially if you do end up getting pregnant and seeing your engorged breasts with milk spilling through the bra makes him absolutely feral.

Soap definitely has a mommy kink, calls you mommy when he breeds you.

Gaz:

You both accidentally learn you have breeding kinks

You both fuck raw

Although Gaz is diligent and always cautious, Gaz never wears condoms, too lost in the heat of the moment to even have the patience to find one and open it.

Both of you are just very horny people to care about the consequences and just go feral for each other.

It was bound to happen eventually, with how careless you both were during your love-making, it shouldn't have been a surprise when Gaz finally forgets to pull out.

Lost in the way your warm walls suck him in and squeeze around him so tight.

Your legs lock him in place, pressing his body closer to you, not leaving him any room to pull out, not like he would if he could. Your cunt was just too good to even think about pulling out.

Your eyes snap open at the feeling of warm liquid spurting inside of you. Your wide eyes meet the closed-eye euphoric expression on Gaz.

His breathing was heavy, and his eyes shut closed at the feeling of your warm cunt squeezing around his cock, milking him of his cum.

He stays inside of you, controlling his breathing before he finally opens his eyes and gives you a dopey smile.

"oops."

He pulls out slowly, his eyes mesmerized at the sight of his cum spilling out your wet folds, watching as the white fluid run down your thighs, his cock twitching to life again.

Seeing his cum pour out of you awakened something inside of Gaz. Primal urges seen in animals, he felt the need to continue to stuff you with his cum, claiming you as a mate to bear his children.

Your thighs twitch at the feeling of his cum spilling down your sensitive folds, the warm liquid burning you with a desire you've never felt before. The look Gaz was giving you confirmed you both wanted the same thing.

Eagerly plunging his cock into your pussy, fucking his cum back inside of you, his thrusts sloppy but full of lustful desire.

You both keep fucking until your cunt can't hold anymore of his cum. Until every thrust into your poor aching cunt has the cum spilling down the sides of his cock, piling on the sheets.

"That will knock you up real good, eh?" his laughter filled your ears as you swatted at his chest with a bashful look on your face.

Alejandro:

Alejandro is a very passionate and attentive lover so he had suspicions of the kink you had buried deep inside of you.

Every time he neared his orgasm and voiced it, he noticed the way your pussy tightened around his cock, your hands gripping onto him harder as if you tried to lock him in place, your way of silently pleading with him to cum inside of you.

After seeing you get along with his nieces and nephews, he was finally going to indulge your breeding kink he knew you had that you weren't aware that he knew. Maybe if he was lucky he'll knock you up and start a family of his own.

Something was different, your lovemaking was more passionate and feral. His thrust was full of vigor, and the tip of his cock felt like he was bruising the entrance of your womb.

"I'm gonna fuck my cum into you," he growled. His eyes didn't miss the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your cunt already greedily trying to milk his balls dry.

Chants of 'yes' spew from your mouth as you held onto him for dear life.

"Make you a mami" he sneered, his fingers bruising the skin on your stomach. "You'll look so beautiful with a round stomach, carrying mis ninos."

"Please!" you cried, his words fueling your kink. "I want your babies," you begged.

Spewing his cum deep into your cavern, he pulled out unaware you had squirted against him, his cum inside of you was enough to bring you over the edge and spew your juices onto him.

"Look at you full of cum," he teased, watching as your legs twitched at his rough hands gliding up to your cunt, "What a dirty perra." (Bitch)

Konig:

When you tell him about your kink, he is absolutely flustered.

Konig usually repeats what he is going to say over and over in his head, his words already decided and prepared with his raspy and rushed tone to voice them, but when you confess to him you want him to cum inside of you, until his cum is oozing out, and with a quiet whisper that you want his babies, words begin to start spewing from his mouth

His words come out stuttered, and his sentences are never complete before a new rush of thoughts starts to spill from his mouth.

"Are you-...b-breed?..inside of you???...my babies?" his voice quivering with each word.

You give him time to pace around, watching as his hands' clench and unclench rapidly, he stops at random intervals to look at you and the innocent smile on your face, your eyes eyeing the obvious bulge in his pants before he begins to pace around again, german phrases and curses rapidly leaving his lips in hushed screams.

After he somewhat calms down, he looks at you with hunger in his eyes, his eyes roaming your body. He'd gently push you down on the mattress and hover over your body, his cock rutting against your thigh. "Are you sure Liebling?"

"I want your babies," you whisper into his ear, teasing and further pushing him to insanity.

He's quick to start thrusting inside of you, your clothes ripped to shreds as his balls slap against your ass.

He'll growl into your ear, whisper how you will look beautiful with milk running down your breasts, the changes your body will face if your womb accepted his seed.

When he cums inside of you, he doesn't pull out right away, instead, he cherishes the feeling of your warm cunt squeezing him, milking him of every drop.

Pushes you to the side, his cock still inside, and snuggles with you, your pussy fluttering against his semi-hard cock.

Your back against his chest, his hands kneading your breasts, his mouth sucking at your neck and muttering praises against your skin.

He'll lazily thrust his hips when he thinks he can feel his cum spilling out of you.

Loves to keep his cock inside of you for as long as he can after he's done breeding you.

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ange1ace · 2 months

Note

CNC LUKE WHERE HE JUST FUCKS YOU WHIKE YOU SLEEP

tw: somnophilia, pre-established relationship, smut, dark!luke

a/n: Luke and his somno kink 😵‍💫💨😵‍💫💨

it’s 11pm when he wakes up, already feeling the strain of his cock against his boxers. he’s felt it before-vivid nightmares equal even more evocative wet dreams. Eyebrows furrowing as he gets up, every step worsening the throb in his stomach. Curfew being 3 hours ago-you’re asleep, more than likely and he sees this, knowing that he should turn right back around to his cabin but can you blame him?

you’re right there, so pretty and soft, letting out quiet, contented hums as he watches you through the window. the sight of your plush lips against the silk pillows worsening his need for them around his cock. so he does it, hoisting himself through the window beside your bed as your face contorts into something confused.

He goes still.

When you’re face relaxes, he’s right back on you, knees creating creases in your sheets as he positions himself behind you. he can’t take it anymore,never being one to resist temptation.

And he’d never have the strength to refuse the invitation that you pose.

He hikes up your dress, revealing your bare ass as he lets out a hiss.

No panties.

You have to be trying to kill him. He lets out his cock, the brush of the cool air making it twitch as he begins to rut against you. It starts out slow and controlled.

He’s trying to not to wake you, at least be considerate.

“L-luke?”

The second he hears your hazy,voice-all inhibitions are thrown out of his head as he picks up his pace, pre cum trickling down onto your thighs.

“makin’ me a fuckin” mess, baby” he mumbles, eyes turning dark as he taps his dick against your glistening pussy. “couldn’t even sleep, was dreaming of your pretty, little cunt”

He gives your clit a light pinch as you let out a whine. “‘S just me yeah? gonna let me use that pretty hole of yours, angel ?”

You let out a muffled whimper when he pushes all the way in-and he takes it as confirmation .

“‘like you’re made for me-christ ”

His hand moves to your mouth, fingers prodding your lips as he resists the urge to gag you with them instead choosing to use his hand to stifle your moans-your eyes flicker at the movement and you subconsciously tense around him.

“Never knew my girl was such-such a slut”

His expression grows almost enamored at how your squeezing him-tense, as he thrusts into you, balls slapping against your ass at his relentless pace. Hot, searing pleasure makes its way up your spine-emitting a low, almost inaudible,squeal from you as he pinches your clit. Your constantly on the edge, slipping in and out of consciousness from his assault on your cervix, harsh-angry thrusts punctuating his words.

“quiet, can’t wake up your friends now?”

Hes so mean for it, knowing its almost impossible to keep silent with his pace.

Stars dance across your tunneled vision, white blurring into a little galaxy in your head as you feel the tensing of your core, as you tiptoe the line, knowing how close you are to slipping into that pure, visceral release. Another slap is all it takes.

“m-maybe you want them to see you like this, being used like my good fuckin’ you”

Your eyes roll back, and he fucks your hips right back on him with his tight grip on them. Even when the rope breaks, and you’re pushed under-thighs shaking in illicit euphoria as you leak around him, he doesn’t stop. Like some rabid animal, he takes you back in-then out again with his movements-his thoughts becoming scrambled, accentuated with primal, violent pushes and pulls before he’s slamming back in you again as tears gather in your eyes.

“shit, just me yeah? got you, sweet girl” he mutters, but it’s like he’s saying it to himself as all you hear is ringing as he slam’s into you once again.

“fuckfuckfuckfuck-“

He’s close, sloppy movements giving you a perfect indication, as he bites his lip to stop a moan from coming out as he cums, spilling his seed into you as he stops, making sure you’re all stuffed with his seed. he pulls out of you lazily, unbeknownst to your unconscious body as you fall right back into dreamscape. Pulling back down your dress, he gives you a soft kiss before disappearing just as he came, your bunk mates none the wiser.

#zee writes ౨ৎ #luke catsellan x reader #dark! luke castellan #luke castellan smut #luke castellan imagine #luke pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #dark!luke castellan smut #[ love letters ఌ ]#tw somno #cnc somno

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ohimsummer · 6 months

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RETURN THE FAVOR? ft. BULLY! SUGURU

— minors dni, throatfucking, blowjob, bully! suguru x fem! reader, exhibitionism, ft. satoru, degradation(slut, cumdump), dubcon, pet names (puppy, good girl, sweetheart ), praise, one mention of photography at the end

wc 1.5k

Most people would be elated if they had twisted an ankle and a strong, kind man offered to carry them out of the goodness of his heart. But you are not most people, and Geto is not a kind man.

“You could look a little more grateful,” he scoffs in that condescending, hushed tone of his, “unless you’d rather walk yourself.”

Geto stops in his tracks, directly a mildly disdainful stare down at you. Snorting, you blink through doe eyes and thick lashes, head shaking in vexation, and you just don’t know how you make Geto’s dick stir in his pants.

You huff, nose wrinkled. “I already said thank you, what else do you want from me?”

“Less attitude, for one.,” Geto nonchalantly replies. “Hmm, and maybe a favor in return? That’s usually what most people offer when someone does something for them.”

A sigh as you glare at him, unamused, and heart rate picking up. “Again, what do you want from me?”

You yelp, arms tightening around his neck as he threatens to drop you, and Geto chuckles at your gape at the concrete path. “Last time I tell you to watch your mouth, or you can find your own way back to your dorm.”

The way your eyes widen at the thought of a difficult, isolated trek back to your room in pitch blackness is cute in Geto’s eyes. Not that he’d make good on that threat, Satoru would probably kill him five times over. But if your naivety kept you in line for now, so be it.

“Fine.,” you relent. “But I don’t know what you want, so please just tell me.”

His eyes wander down to your breast, straining against the woolen sweater clinging to your body, faint nubs poking through from your hardened nipples in the cold. Next, eyeing the quivering downturn of your lips, an idea jumps to the forefront of his mind.

“How about putting that pretty mouth to good use?”

Your jaw goes slack, hands immediately clammy with sweat. You lace and unlace fingers together, eyes never leaving Geto’s steady gaze as you doubt what you just heard. Your suspicions are confirmed when he paces over to a lonely bench along the path, promptly setting you down and shoving his hands in his pockets to take a seat next to you.

“C’mon, now.” Baggy clothes ruffling to break the silence, Geto reclining back to spread his legs for you. “You wanna make it back or not? I have somewhere to be.”

Another lie, just to rush things ahead. You shuffle nervously, glance back and forward between him and the ominous dark path that leads to your dorm building. As if on cue, a sharp pain shoots through your injured ankle, you hesitating once more before sighing in defeat. You maneuver into a more comfortable position, hands kneading over Geto’s muscled thigh, and your tongue flits over your bottom lip in rising anxiety. Dragging the waistband of his sweats down, he utters a ‘good girl’ as his hardening cock is tugged free of it’s confines, standing at attention and only growing larger by the second. Your eyes grow wide in awe at the massive appendage before you. Sure, you’ve seen Geto’s dick before, him impaling you on it whenever he and Gojo so chose to use you for their own needs, but taking it in now, up close…you suddenly yearn for the unhinging jaw of a snake.

He lets out a low groan as you wrap a hand around the base of his cock. It’s stiff and heavy on your palm, dribbling absurd amounts of precum down onto your hand. With one last glance towards Geto, you loll out your tongue, a hiss seeping through his teeth as you kitten lick the fat, red tip. You ignore the saltiness on your tongue as you lick up and around his cock, massaging the bottom with both hands, before extending your jaw to take him into your awaiting mouth.

“Ah, f—fuck,” he rasps out a shaky breath, a hand coming to tangle in your hair and push you down a little further.

A concoction of spit and precum trails down his dick to messily coat your hands, loud, sloppy sounds of him in your mouth filling the empty silence of the vacant campus. For once, you’re glad to be left alone with someone like Geto. The thought of being caught out in the open doing such a thing is mortifying.

You choke, whine a loud ‘hmph!’ as he thrusts up into you, plunging himself deeper into between your lips. The thick, dripping head of his cock nudges at the back of your throat, and you fight to stop the sharp jerks of your body when gagging around him.

“Shit, you feel so good.,” Geto sighs, head thrown back as he trails fingers through your hair. “Fuck, deeper.”

And you oblige, fighting back tears as you greedily suck in more and more of him, bobbing and twisting your head up and down the mass of his length. You edge a hand further into his pants, toying with the heavy weight of his balls and you’re somewhat pleased when that drives a whine out of him. It takes all your willpower not to keep your eyes on Geto for too long, but wow, if he doesn’t look absolutely gorgeous; the nearby pole light casts a soft, golden hue onto his skin, perfectly accentuating his parted lips, the redness crept up to his ears, a light sheen of sweat on his handsome face. Every sneaky glance at him has your pussy growing wetter.

A shock runs through your body at the sound of a piercing tone, and you’re halfway up his cock before Geto’s hand stiffens against the back of your head to keep you in place. He barely casts you a glance before pulling his phone out from his pocket.

“Relax.,” he reassures. “ ‘S nothing, keep going.”

He pushes you back down on his dick before slotting the phone between his shoulder and ear, other hand running down his thigh. You don’t know for sure who he’s talking to, but the familiarity of the conversation leads you to assume it’s Gojo.

Geto sighs. “What are you, my wife? I’ll be there in a bit, jeez.”

He moves to wipe a couple tears from your face, fingers running over the swell of your cheek in a somewhat comforting way. You risk a look up at Geto to find him already staring down at you. There’s traces of annoyance weaved through the pleasure on his face.

“Okay, Satoru, bye.,” he blurts out and hangs up the phone, mumbling,“He talks so much, just told him I’m busy.”

Geto shoves the device back into his pocket, both hands taking place on the side of your head. “Got a party to go to, so I’m afraid I’ll have to make this quick.”

You don’t have a chance to prepare as Geto bucks his hips into your mouth, shoving you down to bury his cock halfway down your throat. You yelp out in shock, squeezing fists around his thighs as he thrusts upwards into your mouth. His head falls back over the end of the bench, messy strands slipping from his hair tie as he abuses your mouth.

Curses quietly spill from Geto’s lips. “F– fuck, love this fucking mouth, ‘m so close.” He cracks open an eye to peer at you, grunting and squealing from the assault of his length and it’s a sight to behold. “Gonna stuff this tight throat with my cum, you want that?”

Your cunt tightens around nothing, dripping and aching for some kind of relief, and you whimper at him in response.

“Yeah, ‘course you do.,” Geto chuckles between groans. “Little slut, you love when Satoru and I fill you up, don’t you? Our little cumdump, always–, fuck, sucking us dr–y like a good girl, huh?”

You can barely hear his desperate rambling over the loud smacks of his pelvis to your face, wet and obscene ‘plap, plap’s, both throat and jaw sore and aching from the needy thrusts of his hips. Geto fucks into your mouth a few times more, before holding your head to the base of his groin, hips shivering and you feel the twitch of his cock before he’s spilling cum down your throat.

“Ahh, fuck…,” Geto groans loudly as he paints your throat with thick ropes of cum, all of which you swallow heartily even if you can’t help it. His arms fall limp to his side, chest heaving as he takes a moment to catch his breath.

You slide his softening cock from the heat of your throat, carefully and quietly tucking him back into his boxers and sweats. Geto watches you massage over your sore throat, and raises a hand to tap at your lips.

“Open wide, sweetheart.,” and you obey without question.

He studies your mouth, thumb on your tongue, and is pleased to see not a single drop of him has been wasted. “Fuck, good slut.”

Geto again pulls his phone out from his pocket, quickly taking a picture of his fingers still in your mouth before roughly patting your cheek. “Gonna show Satoru what a good puppy you were for me.”

#geto x reader smut #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru smut #suguru geto smut #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #x reader smut

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salaciousdoll · 1 year

Text

･˳ . ⋆Tales of two hypnotic bodyguards･˳ . ⋆

In which you as a heir for your family company gets double teamed by your two insatiable body guards

· · · ♡ featuring Toji fushiguro and miguel o’hara x chubby! Fem! Reader · · · ♡

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings: alternative au’s for both, Smut, heavy degradation kink from both men, impact play ( pulling hair, slapping body parts, slapping ass), praise kink, breeding kink, creampie, mention of miguel daughter being k1lled by your brother, family brought up when degrading, spitting, double penetration in one hole, pet names ( sweetheart, princess,muñeca ( used by miguel three time max), slut, etc.), squirting, messy pussy eating from miguel, face fucking, thigh kink hinted at, black reader but not explicit, safe word is mentioned but you dont use it, graphic descriptions of t0rtur*, may be OOC for Miguel since I didn’t really pay attention to Atsv, OC death, dom! Toji and Miguel, somewhat bratty reader, threeway kiss, both of them give you head at the same time, please let me know if i miss something.

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Word count: 4.7k

18+, Minors do not interact

( y/c/ o/sw) = your choice of safe word

muñeca means doll, please correct me if I’m wrong

You wished you could go back to the days where you were so naive to the business your mom and dad entertained themselves with. You were only 19 once you got this business passed down to you and you hated it ever since. You hated doing math but was great at the subject so when the people around you in the office started speaking about percentages you tuned them out or forced yourself to chime in when you felt the numbers or percentages off by a little.

You're three years strong and yet you didn’t give up your position to your little brother and sister because they were both irresponsible and you couldn’t let your family business go down the drain because of the idiots. You despise your parents so much for leaving this earth so soon yet you missed them everyday. Why do they choose you when you have another sibling who's five years older than you. He was perfect for the role since he was close to the age where you settle down and have families, he could even pass the company down to his heir— that’s killing two birds with one stone. You actually knew why your parents couldn’t pass it to him. You just didn’t want to dwell on it that much. They hated him and he hated everyone in your family.

Right now, you were staring at the pretty chandelier on your ceiling in your pretty office with glass windows all around it. The night sky was so damn beautiful, but the ceiling made you think of multiple things at once and that’s what you needed after learning who killed both of your parents. Their deaths were easy and quick and you were glad but something was very familiar with the carving their skins had. It was a message, a harsh one too from your dear elder brother. The same one who hates your family with a passion. You wanted to know why it had to be like this and you couldn’t even be in shock because he’s been suspicious and has been missing since December 2021, it’s now 2023. Either he’s hiding or someone ki-

“ Hey, little one, you can’t be hogged up in your office all day?”, You heard a strong deep voice asked at the door. You snapped your neck to the voice and gave him a head nod, “ Can’t help it, how would you feel if your own brother killed your parents because of something you can’t even confirm. Even now, three years later.” Toji shook his head and walked towards your desk, “ Ease your mind off that or it’s gonna give your pretty face wrinkles. You’re not even 35 yet, so we can’t have you with wrinkles.”

You looked at him with a straight face which caused the second person in the room to smirk at your face. “ Cut her some slack because I too would have sprouting thoughts and ideas in my head about my dear older brother who turned out to be a maniac.” You so badly wanted to drown Miguel because of his smart ass remarks. They both were a handful for you even if they are your bodyguards.

“ You two are the most annoying people on the planet right now.”, You say turning your rolling chair around to face the opposite of them. You heard little chuckles prior to Toji speaking now, “ You love us because otherwise you would’ve got rid of us, your majesty.” You scoff and leaned back in your chair, “ Sarcasm is the devil, I’m telling you. Especially both of your sarcasm. Makes me want to shut both of your mouths permanently sometimes, but I can’t because how else are you going to communicate with me.” You were mostly whispering to yourself the last part but they heard you loud and clear.

Miguel yanked your chair around to face his stomach since he was sitting on your desk. You took in the outline of his six pack through his white buttoned up shirt. You also noticed that he took off his black blazer, which was sitting on the sofa in your office. Your eyes then begin to trail up his body— connecting your eyes to his in a fearsome stare down. Neither of you talked just stared. Until you heard the same voice, “ So are you two gonna fuck without me, so selfish Miguel, so selfish. I would be selfish if I was you as well. A beautiful woman like her you have to be selfish with.” You both turned to Toji standing before the desk with his arms crossed over his chest. The silver chain that hangs in between his chest was doing things to you and right now you so badly needed a distraction but you had to stay professional since these are your bodyguards. But the way his white collared shirt had two buttons unbuttoned and his cufflinks rolled up, you’d think otherwise.

Miguel scoffed and rolled his eyes before turning back to you, “ Aren’t you supposed to be going somewhere tonight, to that mating event right? Right Toji?” His eyes remained in you as he spoke to you and Toji, yet his eyes looked empty while staring at you. There’s no emotion in his eyes as he says it and you were so caught up that you didn’t get the sub he threw at you until you heard Toji gruff voice, “ Yeah, that mating ritual event is tonight and we have to both be there with her tonight.”

You rolled your eyes at both of them, “ For one, it’s not called a mating event or mating ritual event. It’s just an annual event business owners have due to taking after their parents, not my fault I was casted to take over this company and besides it’s not like I’m gonna see him there.” Miguel lowered his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose while Toji leaned over your desk with two hands on the surface of your desk.

“ Him as in the man you have to marry in the upcoming given years in order to maintain the deal that your dad made with his dad before he died? That low life, really?”, Miguel says, getting up to pace in front of you with his hands on his waist, causing you to eye it and realize how little his waist was. On another note, you were glad that your office is spacious even behind your desk because he would’ve been stepping all over your pretty toes with a fresh light pink pedicure.

These two acted like Henry was the worst person ever. Like yeah he does have some bad qualities like chewing with his mouth open or even talking with his mouth full, but they too have bad qualities too, some you haven’t witnessed. Still, they don’t want you with him at all.

“ Yes him, why don’t you two like him? You’ve been hating him ever since you both became my bodyguards because it didn’t start when you became my father’s bodyguards one year before he died. You don’t think you’re overreacting with your dislike for him… he’s not even the only one you disliked. You disliked my ex boyfriend, my ex boy bestfriend, and my own broth-”, you yelled before getting your jaw snatched by Miguel left hand, “ Don’t say anything about that fucker, not in my presence. I just want you to be quiet for me, mhm, can you do that for me, my precious Muñeca?” You had no choice but to stay quiet when he had your jaw in his hand. You wanted so badly to slap him but the pool in your panties said enough for you. The look in his eyes drove you mad when he peered down at you. His red eyes were so gorgeous to look into right now that you subconsciously nodded your head and he let you go.

You knew he was mad because of him speaking a little Spanish when he’s mad. You caught on one night when you dropped all your responsibilities and left with your ex best friend who now hated you for some reason. You continued the stare down until he wrapped his arms around your waist while you sat down and picked you up with no struggle, no matter how much you weigh. Your legs followed the route as he leaned to capture your lips with his soft ones.

You two kept locking your lips with one another as Toji came around the desk to where you two were with a little smile on his face. He was surprised when you reached to his belt buckle— pulling him into y’all. You stopped kissing Miguel and turned to kiss Toji on the lips, slow like a snail with both of your spit lapping onto each other tongues like a popsicle dripping on a hot summer day. Miguel took off your shirt letting it drop to the floor revealing your pretty bra to them. One of your arms was now wrapped around Toji and the other one was wrapped around Miguel.

He watched what was going on in front of him with heavy and low eyes, taking in every detail of the kiss and the way your chest raised up and down. His full lips shaped into a smirk when you pulled him into the three way hug prior to locking your lips with his now. Toji smiled and joined the kiss when you guided his head into the kiss. Now you three were in a three way kiss and it felt so good to all three of you, swapping spit from left to right.

You were the first to break the kiss and let out a breath while they let out huge breaths as well. Toji lifted you up in his arms prior to slamming you on the couch by your neck making a little whimper slip from your mouth. He lifted himself off you and stood next to Miguel who was staring at the scenery in silence. You lifted your body up and slid down your skirt and looked at them— opening your legs giving them both full access to your panty hose covering your pretty panties you chose to wear today. “ Please fuck me, mister Fushiguro and mister O’Hara.” Your voice sounded so sensual and siren like— they couldn’t help but to groan at your actions.

“ I’m gonna break you, my pretty little butterfly. Prepare her for me, Miguel.”, Toji says, patting him on the back. Miguel scoffed and rolled his eyes, “ I’m only doing this because I want to and not because you said so, got it?” Toji put up two hands to show he’s not a threat, “ Whatever you say, meanwhile I’m gonna fill my pretty princess mouth with something she desperately wants, who could deny such a pretty face.” He squeezed your chubby cheeks and you almost cursed him out until you felt thick fingers dancing up your legs. You were about to look down but Toji grabbed your jaw, “ Ah, Ah, Ah, eyes on me, honey bee. I Can't have you focused on another man when my dick is gonna be filling your mouth soon. ”

You nodded as he stuck a thumb in your mouth and Miguel was slowly starting to plant kisses on your legs whispering to himself but you heard every word he said. “ God, your legs are so beautiful, thighs too —especially your thighs— wanna fuck em’ so bad, baby.” You almost squirmed when you felt both of his hands reopening your legs revealing the one possession of yours he wanted since he became your bodyguard two years ago. Toji chuckled at Miguel remarks whilst unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants only pulling out his dick. You licked your lips as you felt Miguel trail kisses against your panty hose where your inner thighs were. Your pussy was soaking wet right now due to the mouth watering sight in front of you and the feeling of thick and full lips on your inner thighs.

Miguel grabbed something out his pocket and cut open your panty hose at the part where your pussy was on display for him. The wetness pooled inside of your panties making him smirk up at you, if only you weren’t so enticed with licking Toji’s tip you could’ve seen the way he looked at you, “ You’re so wet for me, huh. Fucking heaven if you ask me, Toji. Too bad.” He started placing small kisses on the opening of your pussy while your tongue flicked over Toji’s slit causing him to lean on the thick glass window since he was now standing up in front of you while his feet were planted on your black couch.

Miguel continued to taunt Toji whilst giving little pecks of kisses on your pussy lips, “ You. Can’t. Get. The. First. Taste. Of. My. Princess.” Your moans were dancing around Toji’s tip as your mouth was locked on to it with a leg shaking grip, “ Shut the fuck up, she’s performing right now, so you be quiet when my doll is putting on a- Aah, just like that!!- sh-show.” You took him inside of your mouth inch by inch as much as you could fit inside of your mouth and he couldn’t take it. He always fantasized about you choking on his dick whenever you were bratty with him and this was his chance but right now he had to take it slow so you could adjust that little throat of yours for him.

Them going back and forth added to your adrenaline and so you pulled off Toji’s dick watching as some of your spit dripped off his cock and onto the top of your breast. You locked eyes with him as you grabbed his cock with your freshly done nails, spitting on it with the spit you gathered from the hunger of taking his dick in your mouth. He threw his head back with one hand on the back of your head and the other one holding himself up on the window, looking down at you and the city was a treasure to him, “ You and the view behind you are so beautiful, keep sucking me like that~.”

Miguel hardened his features due to you only paying Toji attention when that wasn’t even true. Miguel was on your mind because your hands trailed to find his hair and you did grabbing it afterwards as his breath was fanning over your pussy and now his tongue is licking your clit through panties tasting your wetness, “ Fuck, pretty girl, thought you forgot about me for a sec. Thought I was gonna have to wrap this thing up and just fuck you by myself.”

Toji ignored him because you were gagging and sucking on his dick like a drainer. He was grabbing your hairstyle in his hands and dragged your head back and forth on his cock, bubbles and globs of spit were forming along his dick and at the base of his pants he had on. He couldn’t care less about the aftermath of his suit pants, “ God, I wish your spit was lathering up the base of my dick right now but I could take this as well, such a pretty little dick sucker. A fucking slut really. Perfect. Ugh fuck! I think I’m gonna bust.”

“ Mmm” and the sound of sucking your pussy and the sucking of his dick being sucked were heard around the room. Miguel already tore off your panties and sucked on your clit like a man sucking the water out of a coconut. He was hungry for your pussy and who could blame him when your pussy looked so cute and puffy for him. Miguel licked around your clit after sucking on it and then traveled his tongue down to your convulsing hole sticking his tongue right in, wiggling it around to savor any and everything producing out of your pussy, juice was all over his chin and was about to cover half of his face but he pulled away to catch a breath, “ shit, muñeca, your pussy is dripping for me. Mmmm, I could eat this pussy all day to get rid of my stress.” The slurping sounds that came after were pure heaven for all three of yall.

The drag of Miguel’s tongue going up and down your pussy pulled so many moans from you which only caused vibrations on Toji’s cock along with the gags of your throat from the constant bullying of his dick punching your throat, “ Ahhnn, Aah, I wanna cum down this filthy little throat of yours but I can’t right now, gotta, fuck!, save this for that fat pussy of yours.” Toji held you there for a little before dragging your mouth off his dick with a loud pop and gasp from you. Your squirmed around when you still felt Miguel’s tongue fucking your push with no mercy, especially with the little circles he was drawing with his tongue.

Toji got down on his knees after putting his cock inside of his pants for a bit and crawled next to Miguel, making you spear your legs even more. He latched his mouth against your clit sucking on it like a pomegranate while Miguel still had his tongue inside of your sweet little hole. They were both enjoying the way your body shook underneath them. Even though they’re tongues collided with each other when Toji licked up and down your pussy, they both enjoyed sucking and eating your pussy at the same time. Fuck you’re were cumming unannounced and theg only knew when your knocked their heads together with your thighs squeezing around both of their heads making them fall more in love with you. “ Hnngh, I- I can’t.”

Your moans were so beautiful like a chilling harmony to them. They watched as your cum leaked out and Miguel didn’t hesitate to lick it up— eventually making your squirt a little on them. Both of their eyes closed because your squirt was squirting right in their face and they weren’t mad at it especially when your screams were heard all around the office.

They finally stepped away from your pussy, Toji getting up first to get rid of his pants as Miguel followed after him getting rid of his pants as well. Your pants were loud and slowly became quiet, they were giving you a minute because in a minute you are gonna be begging for a break. You gulped before speaking to them, “ Show me what’s best for me since you two know what’s best for me.” You were always told your sarcasm is gonna get you in trouble one day, that day is today.

“ She was just squirming around and moving away from us vigorously, now she wants to turn her sarcasm back on, I’m not surprised, are you?”, Miguel says with a vicious smile showing the little vampire vang he had since he was born. You always loved his smile even if he barely shows it.

Toji chuckled while stroking his dick in his hand, “ no, no, this is { reader} we’re talking about, she a brat and I heard she’s been a brat her entire life from her poor little mommy. You gave your mom and dad hell, but you’re not gonna try that shit with us because we’re gonna fuck you back into place every. Single . Time.”

Miguel pulled you up by your bra, tearing it off as he pulled you up making you gasp and as you were about to complain he turned your around to Toji who was now sitting and waiting on the couch for you. Miguel put a big veiny hand over your mouth prior to putting his lips next to the shell of your ear to whisper, “ Shut that pretty little mouth, don’t wanna hear anything you got to say if it’s not worthy of making me cum. You might’ve been the responsible one, but you were also the bitchiest one. Not gonna play that shit with us, got that?” Your head was snatched back as you felt his dick starting to rub up and down the slit of your ass, “ Answer me.”

You looked in his darkened red eyes, nodding your head knowing damn well you were still gonna do what you wanted. You just needed their dicks right now. Killing part about it, both of them could tell you were lying and it amused them, so in turn, Miguel pushed you onto Toji who gladly gripped your love handles— sliding you down his cold dick making both of you let out tiny whimper of different curses “ fuck” “ shit”.

Miguel sat and watched for a minute until he saw you look back at him with a smile, “ Take me, mig’. Or are you too kissy to show no mercy on little ol’ me? You’re 6’9 Miguel, act li-”

As soon as you said the word mercy, he remembered the screams erupting from your brother as he ripped off his fingernails and fingers after. The word mercy was from what Toji said to him, “ Show him no mercy, Miguel. I mean after all, he took someone else other than his own parents from you. Your precious little daughter who was just with her mother doing what mothers and daughters do. He just had to mess it up and that caused your daughter and wife death. Show. Him. No. Mercy.” And he didn’t because his body was still sealed underneath the floorboard rotting away with no one to hear his screams. The floorboard of his own cabin. Yes, revenge.

But now, he wasn’t thinking about hurting you in that way. He was only thinking about hurting you so good. The way you want so he had no choice but to act in it and he did by grabbing your neck from behind you giving you a tight squeeze but not enough to kill or hurt you, “ You should’ve kept that pretty mouth close instead you had to let it run loose like that pussy is gonna be after we get done fucking her.” Toji knew you fucked up so he stopped and laid your head down to his chest as Miguel gripped your hips with his large hands. The moment he moved inside of you was the moment you lost all connection to the world around you.

Inside your mind, all you could see is the color white. It was so pretty on display in your mind and you forgot how to even speak strong sentences as you babbled any words that came to mind. When Miguel moved inside of you, ringing in his ears started going off loudly, this was incredible, you were incredible. “ Fuck~, can’t wait to have you to myself so I could fill you up all night and day without anyone stopping or being near us.” His words came out after his panting, making you moan at the sound of his voice. You were proud, you made him desperate like this.

Toji took you by surprise when he sucked on your nipple while twisting and rolling your other one causing you to throw your head back on Miguel’s shoulder. Your pleasure was through the roof and both could tell from the way you opened up around their cocks, taking them in willingly and boastfully. Miguel bit his lip with the movement of his head thrown back in ecstasy whilst moving his hips in and out of you. “ Shit, princess, your pu- Augh fuck!” His groans were cut off when you were trying to throw it back to him and Toji who was speechless under you.

Toji’s green eyes were so dark and filled with just as he flicked his tongue on your nipples with low moans escaping his mouth, “ My slutty little doll is taking us so well, I’m really surprised. Thought a - hahhh- nasty mouth slut like you wouldn’t be able to take us into that sweet little hole of yours.” You could not handle the way they were talking to you and moving inside of you. When Toji pulled his hips up, Miguel pulled out and it kept going. Having both of them inside of one hole was not what you were expecting, especially with the sudden fast pace it was going now. When you were so busy lost inside of your head, the two agreed to speed up the pounding, telepathically.

Miguel pulled your neck back, spitting in your mouth once he saw the opportunity– making you swallow it down your throat with no hesitation. He picked up his pace like a turbo and you couldn’t do anything except whisper how much you can’t take it and how much you hated them. A slap on your tits were from Toji and you started crying because of how good the impact felt on your skin. “ I can’t… pleasee, slow down. Mmph!” Toji snapped his hips into you nonstop at that, “ Safe word, now.” Miguel chuckled, “ Come on, pretty, give him the safe fucking- shit~ - squeeze me like that one more time {reader}.”

You didn’t know if it was a threat or command, but you did it unintentionally which caused him to land a hard smack on your ass. Your whimpers were heard as your eyes became like crystal drops on your lash line, “ { y/c/o/sw}, please don’t stop, I’m.. I’m almost there fuck~” They both smirked prior to Miguel leaning to sucking on your neck with his fang adding more pleasure to everything they’re doing to your body. Meanwhile Toji was holding onto your bouncy belly as he ducked into you, “ You’re fucking gorgeous like this on my cock, just watching your belly jiggle while we pound into you like the slut you are is heavenly.”

Miguel kept your head on his chest as Toji now had a thumb on your clit creating clockwise circles in your clitoris causing you to squeal loudly. You felt it, you felt the liquid spilling out of you as you bailed nonsense to them. The sounds of slapping skin, wet smacks, and water squirting out were heard with loud moans and groans. Your body was shaken as they used you just the way you wanted and have been wanting since forever. They knew you were going sensitive by the minute so they sped up even more making you scream out for more and more.

Miguel lowered his lips to your ear, “ Look at you, withering around our cock like the slut you are, bet you’re mommy and daddy are so proud of what their little girl is doing right now. What would your sibling, especially that wretched brother of yours, think when you’re being split open by your body guards in the broad daylight where someone could easily see through the windows?” He knew he might’ve pushed too far but he needed you to know that he hated you right now because of you reminding him of his wrong by saying the one word he hates “ mercy”, but he didn’t care in the end because you were moaning like a whore at every word he’s saying. Your babbles turned into multiple “sorries” and “ forgive me but it feels so good” all the while rolling your hips creating more juice flowing down their dicks and yours and their thighs.

Toji chuckled at the harshness from Miguel as he now rolled his hips up into you chasing his own orgasm, “ He’s right, what would your family think knowing you’re fucking the people they told you to stay away from and only entertain us when we - hhghh fucking bitch~-”. His moans invaded his thoughts and words and all three knew he was close. Trust me, Miguel wasn’t far behind him, he just wanted to make you cum first cause after all he was still a gentleman , a pissed one at the moment.

Toji gripped your stomach in between his thick fingers as he and Miguel slowed down and we’re just now rolling their hips in sync with each other, only moving in and out to let each other get a turn. He was going to finish his sentence in the process, “ only entertain us when we serve you. How shallow of your family to set you up with a man that’s no good for you and this pussy of yours. From now on, you’re our little slut. Would you mind being ours, sweetheart?” When he said the word slut, his hips snapped against yours three times dragging his cock alongside of your walls every time he thrusted inside. Your nails dug into his chest as your head snapped back— eyes rolling to the back of your head, going completely dumb.

You both came at the same time and it felt wonderful until you felt yourself getting overstimulated from Miguel still thrusting inside of your pussy in want and hunger. He had his head in between your neck, biting your shoulder as he bursten his hips forward into your ass. The ripples were enough for him to cum inside of you— filling you up even more. Both of you and Toji moaned at the sensation of his dick pumping inside of you. His cock against Toji’s caused Toji to become even more sensitive since he already had your pussy clamping down on him and Miguel at the same time.

“ aaahh fuck~, that’s right, my perfect slut. So good… so good.”, Miguel didn’t even care if he was babbling because the only thing he could think about was you. You were his everything, but he and Toji still needed an answer.

After the heaving died down, you spoke up, “ Would round two confirm the answer to your question Toji? Miguel?”

You all were still shaking against one another and they were still inside of you, so you got your answer when both of their cocks started to get fully hard whilst inside of you. Miguel kissed your forehead and Toji kissed your hand. “ Does that answer your question, my muñeca?” Toji lips curved into a no teeth smile, “ Yeah, princess, does it?”

Tagging: @shunsuist @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @thehanging-gardens @bontens-angel and anymore who wants to join

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x black reader #toji fushiguro smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #atsv miguel #atsv smut #chubby reader #x black reader #anime smut #anime x reader #anime x black!reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji imagine #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader

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myfictionaldreams · 8 months

Text

Day 7: Somnophilia - Winter Soldier

Summary: He had been instructed to find you after he had completed his mission for a debrief, but he has needs to be taken care of first.

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dubious content!!!, consensual somnophilia, kinda freeuse, oral (f receiving), overstimulation, rough sex, obsessive behaviour, multiple orgasms

masterlist 📚

kinktober masterlist😈

AO3 Link

The Winter Soldier had only been to your home once more, the location of which wasn’t even included in any Hydra files, but he knew. He always seemed to know where you were, seeking to find you in the darkness. He had been your patient and priority for years. Not only were you his Doctor but carer, the person to give him his missions and report back to; you fed him, helped even to wash him on occasions, you had been ordered to look after the Soldier’s every need, by whatever was necessary.

You’d instructed him two days before report to you following the completion of his mission, and tomorrow, in the early hours of the morning, you were to go to the Hydra base and wait for him to arrive. This was why you were shocked, to say the least when he turned up at your home clearly; whatever had occurred during the mission had riled him up, making him desperate for release.

You should have anticipated this with the Winter Soldier, and to be truthful, you, too, needed some sort of a release from how on edge you’d been over the last 36 hours of watching his heartbeat on a monitor to make sure that he was surviving through the mission. Only after he had confirmed the kill and was on his journey back you finally collapsed face-first onto the bed.

Even though he was your patient, the relationship was significantly blurred as of late as human instinct and the need to find satisfaction through touch had escalated. You weren’t sure when or where, but as he became more unsettled and riled up, his trust in you increased, and he made advances of the sexual kind.

You’d used the excuse that it was to get his frustrations out, which is why you’d allowed it to continue, but in truth, you were just as lonely and in need of human contact, too. The bond the two of you had formed over the years meant that, in an odd way that was inexplainable, you trusted the assassin. There had been enough circumstances that he had lost control and on the warpath, and the only person who would never come to any harm would be you; even after his memory was wiped, he would automatically answer to you and no one else.

Therefore, now, the Soldier was more unpredictable, needing the warmth of your body but also being fascinated by how you reacted to the point that he’d become obsessed. This was how you got to the situation you were currently in.

You’d been in a deep-sated sleep that was desperately needed, but because of that, you were incredibly disorientated. The bed felt softer than usual; the thump of your heart fluttered against your eardrums, covering up the sounds produced further down the bed.

Your entire body was floating like the bed had disappeared, and you’d somehow landed on a fluffy cloud. Everywhere was warm, comfortable and yet vulnerable; you felt exposed at first but soon realised that the bed sheet must have slipped from your body, exposing your nudity.

The more that time ticked on, the more your surroundings began to unblur. You realised that the warmth of your body was actually a burning in your muscles being held in a specific position by a heavy weight pushing on it.

Taking a slow, deep breath, filling your lungs with cool air, you soon came to the realisation that you were moaning deep from the back of your throat. Drowsy, dry moans that continued in a steady flow as you reacted to something even in the depths of sleep.

With a whole body shiver, you attempted to move, to understand why your core was pulsing with pleasure; however, when you tried to stretch your legs, thick leather gloved-covered hands held your thighs back so that your knees were grazing your chest.

“Wha-What’s going on?” you asked, but your throat was so dry and sleep still evident so that your voice was croaky and deeper than usual. Your only answer came in a long hard lick of a tongue from your hole to your clit.

Your back arched with an automatic response, hands moving down to deel whoever was there and was greeted with a clammy forehead and hair that felt long, unwashed and draped over your mound.

A powerful suck to your throbbing bundle of nerves forced your eyes to bolt open; back still arched, but now, you were pushing up on your elbows to half sit up and look at the man you already knew who was there, eating you out like a man wholly starved, like it was his first meal in days. You supposed he probably was hungry, besides from the fact that he’d been travelling for hours, as his high metabolism meant he usually was hungrier quicker than others.

The Winter Soldier was lying on the bed, stomach down against the mattress, his tactical gear still on and only his mask was missing. He was still coated in grim dirt from the mission, even on the gloves that held your thighs in place, but he didn’t care, and neither did you as he helped himself to your pussy. For a moment, you contemplated his night; he must have travelled non-stop to get here and then dropped to his knees and started licking your cunt, probably too hyper-fixated on your nakedness even to bother to wake you.

The moans in the back of your throat increased in volume, the tips of your fingers moving further into his hair to hold him in that position right as his tongue curled deep inside your hole just as you liked it.

The Asset's eyes were closed. However, they always were when he pleasured you, as if he was so in the zone, only wanting to listen to your sweet melodies of moans and taste your unique sweet taste like it was the best and only thing that mattered to him.

“Soldier”, you gasped with a rush of air escaping your mouth as you collapsed back onto the mattress, feet tilting and resting onto his shoulders to help keep him in that same position.

The grip on your thighs tightened almost to the point of leaving bruises as he responded to his title, and your walls were beginning to clamp down with more urgency to suck his tongue deeper. Just a little more, a particular flick of his tongue, and you were orgasming, squishing his face by grinding your hips and holding his hair firmly in place as your cunt contracted against his tongue.

The Winter Soldier didn’t stop fucking you with his tongue until your muscles loosened and fingers relaxed, and then dropped back onto the mattress as you stared up at the ceiling in the after-orgasmic bliss.

One minute, you’re grinning like an idiot, blowing out a long, steady breath, and the next, you’re face down on the bed as the Asset twisted your hips, turning you over and rising on the bed himself.

This was usually how it happened, so you had anticipated it, especially to be moved into this position. It was his favourite position to do it from behind, whether it was bending over a desk, countertop, bed or on your knees like you were now, face down and ass up. The conclusion you’d come to that he preferred it this was it wasn’t as personal as face to face, which had happened once, and he’d gone into a complete meltdown to the point that he had needed to be frozen again and Pierce had been beyond fuming after he’d found out what had happened. It was most likely because he’d seen the euphoria on your face during sex and bought back some human emotion for him that the Soldier couldn’t understand.

So now, the fucking was exclusively from behind, but you didn’t mind, especially as it was wild, as he always fucked you so deep from this angle. The Asset only unzipped himself, not bothering to undress any further, finding it unnecessary even to remove his shoes as he wiped his cock up and down your folds to later his tip in your juices.

This was your only warning before he began to fuck you. One sharp thrust in, 5 seconds to adjust and then it was a free-for-all.

Hard, deep, fast thrusts. Your bed bounced against the wall, smacking noises of both the impact of the bed and your hips being slapped against his as he held tightly onto the flesh, using the momentum to push and pull your body against his.

The Winter Solider’s balls smacked your tender clit, swollen from his mouth. Your fingers fisted into the pillow beneath your face, teeth also having to bite the material so that your poor neighbours didn’t complain about the screaming at whatever late hour that it was.

He was rough, but the Asset needed to be. He needed to feel hard sparking touches as anything else would have been too overstimulating in the sense that he wasn’t used to soft touches, only from you, but when he was in control, he craved it to be like this. The mushroomed tip of his thick cock was fucking repeatedly into your cervix, almost making you see stars with how good and intense it felt. Your juices were making squelching noises with each thrust of his member, and it was so loud and obscene that it covered the sound of your muffled moans.

Not a single noise came from the Asset; he was always silent for the most of it. Only his heavy breathing could be heard, but at least this time, he wasn’t wearing his mask like usual.

However, he decided to mix it up slightly, doing something he hadn’t attempted before as his grip on your hip released so he could take hold of your shoulder, pulling on it until you were entirely on your knees, naked back flush against his tactical gear-clothed chest. The arm on your shoulder then scooped around your front, resting between your breasts and fingers around your neck to ensure you didn’t fall forward. You knew the metal arm was holding you up due to the firm feeling beneath the leather clothes.

His parted lips hovered next to your ear like he would whisper something to you, but no noises or words came. The rolling of his hips slowed, but the thrusts were still just as deep and methodical, the buckles of his belt digging into your bare flesh until you were clawing at his wrist to all of the stimulation.

It felt so good, so god damn good that you were already clinging to him and wanting to scream that you were about to orgasm again. Still, he already knew from how your pussy clutched to him like a lifeline, attempting to milk his cock with his hard it was squeezing his length in flutters. The Soldier continued, not phased or slowing as you shivered and then came, warm wet juices soaking down your thighs as your cunt pulsed around his cock.

Nothing could ever prepare you for his libido, though. He could stay hard for hours due to his super serum, and with how needy and lonely you were, you’d fucked him enough time to get used to the long sessions, knowing by the end, you’d be overstimulated and thoroughly satisfied.

Two more orgasms later, you were a trembling mess, having moved to lie on your side as he spooned close behind, hair drenched from how warm he was, still completely dressed. You were curled around your pillow, pussy sensitive and flooded from all of your orgasms, and he finally made a noise, releasing a deep groan as his seed spilt into your pussy, coating your walls and then leaking out and dripping onto the bed.

You were already half asleep again as he pulled out, standing to clean himself. With half-lidded, heavy eyes, you forced yourself to turn onto your back to follow his movements. It was sometimes hard to remember what your job role was, that it wasn’t some kind of a fling or one-night stand, so with great difficulty, you asked, “Mission report?”

#winter soldier #bucky barnes #bucky #winter soldier x reader #winter solder smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #marvel smut #marvel #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #mine*

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words-4u · 8 months

Text

as you wish - j.l

wc: 1.5k

a/n: down horrendous for jordan i’m going through it

warning: 18+ smut, swearing

you were jordan’s favourite thing in the world and they would do anything for you. so when you first got together and you wanted to take things slow, it wasn’t an issue.

but then four months passed, five months, six months and the most the two of you have done was dry hump. jordan would never rush you or push you into having sex but they wanted you, all of you, so bad and they were losing their mind with lust.

what jordan didn’t know was that you were just as horny as them. you constantly thought about how good it would feel to have their head in between your thighs but you were nervous, that’s what it all boiled down to.

jordan had mentioned previous partners, a couple fuckbuddies and one serious relationship, which you didn’t mind because of course people wanted them, how could they not?

you, on the other hand, have had zero sexual experience, the kind that actually matters when you enter university and kissing a classmate behind a bush when you were 11 doesn’t count in your books.

so month after month you held off on having sex with jordan because you were unsure of what to do but your desire for jordan has now outgrown your silly little fear.

you sat alone in jordan’s room as they finished their last class of the day. you had plans later that evening with some friends to catch a movie but until then you decided to kill some time by reading in jordan’s room since it has the best natural lighting.

you were so immersed in your book, you didn’t notice jordan come in until the bed dipped and they were kissing your neck.

“oh hello,” you said bringing a hand into their hair as they smushed their face into your neck.

“sorry, you just look so good on my bed reading… the secret diary of anne boleyn?” they asked peering into your lap where the book laid faced down.

“leave me alone, you know how much love history!” you chuckled as jordan sat against thier headboard and pulled you into their lap.

now straddling them, you toyed with the back of their necklace as they peered into your eyes.

“what?” you said in a hushed tone.

“nothing, you just have really pretty eyes,” jordan continued to stare into you with their intoxicating eyes. you started to get shy under their gaze so you broke it by leaning in for a soft kiss.

there couldn’t be a more perfect moment than this one. it felt like the two of you were the only ones in the world. you often felt that way with them but today was different.

“jordan, i-i think I’m ready,”

it took a second for what you said to register with jordan but once it did, their eyes widen a little.

“are you sure?”

you nod in confirmation. “i want to have sex.”

that statement went straight to their dick making it twitch in their pants.

“say that again,” they said as they moved you off their lap and onto the bed hovering over you.

“please fuck me,” you said grabbing their neck and kissing them with a certain passion. jordan had found a comfortable spot between your legs.

“as you wish,” they whispered as they bucked their hip into yours.

you lifted their sweater a little, hands roaming their flat and hardened chest, before jordan took it off completely. you held yourself of using your forearms and enjoyed the view. you’ve seen jordan shirtless plenty of times but knowing they were going to fuck you in a few minutes made the view so much better.

“i think you’re wearing too many layers,” they smirked which prompted you to take off your shirt and bra with no hesitation.

“you’re so fucking gorgeous,” they muttered before encapsulating a nipple into their mouth. a sinful noise left you as their tongue expertly swirled around your breast. their hand showed the other the same amount of attention, rolling the nipple between the pads of their fingers.

impatience got the better of you and before you knew it, you took jordan’s hand brought it down to your core making them cup you. jordan lifts their eyes up at you and you nod. you moved your hands down your body slipping of your jeans and panties along with with it. jordan’s fingers ran through the wetness that had built up, a moan echoed around the room as they circled your clit slowly.

“i’m going to take such good care of you babe, just relax,” jordan whispered in between kisses.

you listened to them, focusing on the feeling of their fingers now teasing your entrance.

“please, please just fuck me,” you begged, making them slip a finger into you, your hands moved to hold onto their back as they gradually increased their pace of thrusting their finger into you, making you moan their name.

“fuck,” you groaned, throwing your head back as they curled both inside you before kissing your lips one last time and making their way down your body once again.

you watched with lust-filled eyes as they kissed down your stomach and hovered over your core, hot breath fanning over your dripping centre.

“is this ok?” they asked kissing your inner thighs, you hastily replied with a breathy ‘yes’ to make them continue. their mouth soon sucked on your clit, back arching and an even louder moan erupting from the back of your throat while they ate you.

with the feeling of them pumping their fingers inside you, combined with their tongue swirling around your clit and them moaning against your core at the taste, it didn't take long for you to reach your orgasm.

“uuuh, jordan!” you yelled out, a rush of euphoria washing over you. you shook as you came down and jordan came back up you body. their face covered in your juices and you felt almost embarrassed.

“look at you,” you laughed hiding your face behind your hands.

jordan shook their heads, “don’t be embarrassed. that was the hottest shit i’ve ever seen.”

they slowly removed your hands from you face and kissed you sloppily. you definitely tasted yourself on their face.

“see? you taste so good,” they smiled smugly.

with a quiet laugh, you pulled them down for a full kiss, tongue immediately pushing into their mouth as they echo your laughter.

it quickly turns into a moan, as does yours when they grind their hips into you before they reluctantly tear themselves away, a small smirk appearing on their face.

jordan unbuckled his belt getting rid of his jeans and reached over you to grab a condom from their nightstand drawer.

“so just have those in there?” you asked eyeing the the small plastic squares.

“bought them a month ago. i was feeling hopeful,” they responded sheepishly which made you laugh a little.

“presumptuous… but safe. i’ll let it go for now.” you watched as they sit back on to their heels to slide it on.

they are sweet with the way they checked in with you again, hand returning to your cheek. they smile when their fingers run over your lips. you nod, quietly giving your consent once more, and they help you to spread your legs wider so that they could fully lay between them.

they dragged their cock through your folds, catching your earlier orgasm on the tip to slick the way, and with a deep breath, they pushed in.

touching jordan this way, feeling them this way, is something you've been thinking about since the first time they kissed you.

they were sweet in the way that they went slow as they patiently waited for you to adjust and feel comfortable, and it's not long before they’re completely inside you.

they leaned down to kiss you, lips caressed yours softly at first before it shifted into something a little more heated, more passionate.

"you're doing so well for me, babe," they said against your mouth, and the words make you sigh in response, hips once again rocking into you. "you feel so good. does it feel good for you too?"

“so good,” you told them truthfully, hand running down their back. “you fit so well.”

you felt their mouth split into a grin against yours, and you couldn’t help but let out another groan when they pulled out slightly before pushing back in.

jordan looked so beautiful pressed against you, damp hair resting on his forehead. you reached up and pushed the hair out of their eyes and trailed your fingers down their cheek as they continued to slide in and out of you.

you pulled them close and whispered some encouragement as their thrusts became erratic and they let out a deep breath. they felt even more amazing inside of you as their cock filled you with their release, coating both of you with slick warmth as they continued to move.

they gradually slowed their movements, panting in utter relief and pleasure as they came to a halt, resting inside of you with a few lingering twitches. you wrapped your legs around theirs, holding them close for a moment as you soaked in euphoric thrill.

“how was that?” you sighed making yourself comfortable in the bed. jordan joined you, putting an arm around your shoulder pulling you into them.

“are you sure you’ve never had sex?” they joked prompting you to playfully smack their chest.

“i’m so happy we did… finally. i love you, j.”

“love you more, y/n/n”

#gen v #jordan li #gen v imagines #jordan li imagines #jordan li x reader #london thor #derek luh #the boys #gen v fanfiction #gen v amazon #gen v prime

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toxicanonymity · 8 months

Text

Hunger.

7k, raider!Joel x f!reader

Raider master list ⭐ Joel master

raider playlist 🖤sweet pea (smutty)

SUMMARY: Joel takes you on an eventful trek. You have a bit of a meltdown and he comforts you in a way he hadn't before. He kills a guy. And later, Joel finally goes down on you because he craves you and can't physically resist. WARNINGS: I8+ oral f receiving 🎉, unsafe P in V, creampie, jacking off, brief violence (og raider typical?), hurt/comfort, neglected animal (he's ok), angst, dark fluff, emotional tension, POV changes. A/N: 1/3 smut. Can read alone - Joel has been resisting the urge to kiss you. Carter is Joel's right-hand man. Jack was your bf Joel killed. Happy 6 months to the 1st raider Joel fic, have some oral.

—You 🌸🫛—

You're reading in a clover patch at one end of the trailer while Joel chops wood. Two of his men come up the hill, and Joel tells you to stay put while he talks to them. Even when Joel addresses you, they don't look in your direction. They stay in the doorway of the trailer. You put your book face down and start looking at the clovers while you try to eavesdrop. You can't hear what they're saying, but it sounds like someone might have tampered with one of the vans. You brush your hand through the leaves, and one catches your eye. Without plucking it, you gently separate it from the others to make sure it's not an illusion. There really are four leaves. You smile and get down on your stomach to look at it. You think about leaving it so it can grow more. That's what you did when you found one earlier in the week, but you pluck this one.

The men go back down the hill, and Joel goes inside for a moment before emerging again. You're laying the clover leaves flat between the pages of your book when Joel calls you inside. Then he leans against the trailer with an arm above his head, the side of his wrist resting near the top of the door frame as he waits for you. He's wearing a body holster now. "C'mon, let's go," he shouts so you can hear him.

"Ok," you call.

You just want to finish pressing the clover into the page, but he rushes you: "Now."

"What for," you ask.

"Cause I said." He disappears inside, and his back looks so broad, framed by the holster straps.

You come in and pout in the window nook with your book closed, waiting for him to explain. There's a belt on the kitchen table. Joel emerges from the bedroom and tells you he's going down the hill to help fix the van, and you're coming.

“you good in that?” he asks, looking at your spaghetti strap dress. You nod. You like the dresses he gave you, and it’s still warm enough, you think. He confirms, “Sure ya won’t be cold?” and you nod. He seems glad.

He approaches the kitchen table holding something strappy and leather. He pulls out a chair and faces you in the window nook.

"C'mere," he says. "Gonna carry your gun today."

"Oh," you put down the book. Sounds exciting. Sounds like he trusts you. "Yeah, sure," you try to play it cool. He takes your knees and swings your legs toward him.

"Gonna see if this piece'a shit's worth anything. If not, ya wear mine okay?" He thumbs the shoulder strap of his holster.

You frown and mutter, "I like when you wear it," eyeing the muscles straining his white shirt. He suppresses a smile, but you see it in his eyes.

"Gimme your leg," he commands. You give him your leg on your shooting side. You watch his face. He has a toothpick behind his ear. He bends your knee and puts your foot on his thigh. He lets the skirt of your dress fall all the way down your raised leg, exposing your panties. His eyes linger there, and he draws in a slow breath as he unbuckles the strap of the holster. He wraps the strap around your thigh and mutters, "good." He slides the strap into the buckle, then tightens it. "Too tight?" He asks.

"No."

He fastens the buckle on your inner thigh, and his massive hands map your thigh, checking the fit. You flinch in pleasure as his fingers graze the edge of your panties.

There's a long ribbon dangling from the other end of the holster where another strap should be. He laces it through two hand made grommets on each side. There are two more empty holes on the top of each side.

"Here," you offer and take both ends of the ribbon from him. You tie it in a bow on the outside of your thigh.

"That gonna hold?" He asks.

You shrug. "Feels ok, what do you think?"

He's not listening. His eyes have returned between your legs. You spread them a little more, and innocently widen your eyes. He wets his lips, and his gaze remains for another inhale, then he pries his eyes away, sticks the toothpick in his mouth, and lets your foot down. You stand up and he hands you your gun, then adjusts himself, quickly cupping his crotch through his pants as you slide the gun into the holster.

"Walk," he mumbles.

You walk the length of the kitchen.

It's a weird sensation, having one of your legs burdened by a weight while the other one is free. But aside from that, it's fine.

"Alright?" He asks.

"Yeah."

He nods, "Good. C'mere." You stand right in front of him, between his knees. "Hold your dress up for me."

You hold it up over the holster.

"Higher. Belly button."

He grabs the belt from the table and when he picks it up, ribbons are dangling from its holes. The ribbons have their ends burned and melted like a shoelace for threading. He fastens the belt securely around your bare middle, then threads the loose ribbons through the empty grommets on the top of the holster and secures them.

He turns you to the side, tugs at the ribbon, and mutters, "good." Then he can't help but grab a handful of ass, and your bottom lip creeps under your teeth.

As he turns you to face him again, he takes the toothpick out of his mouth and gives you a serious look. "Comin' with me today, sweet pea. Ya do what I say, understand?"

You nod.

"I say get outta here, ya run. I say stay put, ya don't fuckin' move."

"Got it."

—-

He puts the toothpick behind his ear and picks up a few pieces of jerky off the counter as he stands up. He hands you a piece.

You take a bite and chew it as you walk down the hill. You watch his jaw flex when he chews. You tell him, "This one's good."

"Cause Carter made it," Joel notes. You cringe at yourself,but he doesn't seem offended. "Turkey," he adds.

Turkey, that's why. Much better than venison. You haven't had poultry in a while, not even grouse. Traps have been empty.

"I love yours," you tell him.

Joel gives you an appreciative pat on the back of your head, then his hand trails down your back, over the swell of your ass. He slides his hand under your dress and palms your butt cheek. He lifts it, then lets it drop.

Joel brings you around the front of the stash house where the vans are normally parked and tells you to wait. There’s only one van. One of the other guys took the second van to get gas and isn’t back yet.

You reach under your dress and adjust the holster as you sit down on a patch of grass to watch. Joel's muscles glisten and flex as he lifts the hood of the van and props it open. He looks around the inside of the van and dabs his head with a bandana that he tucks back into his pocket . He looks under the van while you pick tall blades of grass and braid them together.

When he's done, he tells you they need a part. Need to go to the junkyard and see if they can find one. You’re going with him and Carter on foot.

—

The junkyard is a few miles on the other side of Joel’s trailer. You go down that side of the hill and walk through the abandoned mobile home park to get there. It’s the first time you’ve seen most of it close-up, aside from through the scope of Joel’s rifle. The rest of the journey is mostly on a dirt road, and you have to climb through a fence to get into the junkyard.

It feels like you’re there for a long time. You hear the weak bark of a dog in the distance. Joel thinks it’s coming from the woods. It stops. There’s a house that looks abandoned, but Joel thinks there might be junkies in it. He says they gather around there. He’s even found one sleeping in a car. When Carter finds a part they think will work, they have trouble taking it off the truck. They don’t have the right tools. Brute force isn’t an option because it could easily break.

The three of you cautiously approach the house and the barking starts again. The structure is run down, and the windows are busted out. It’s small, can’t be more than a couple of rooms.

—--

As Carter sweeps the house, you go around back with Joel, and there's the dog. He's skinny and his bark is weak and strained. He's chained to a pipe on the side of the house. The pipe has been pulled a little bit outward so it's leaning, but he wasn't strong enough to free himself. He's a scrappy little mutt with a floppy ear. Probably less than 20 lbs (9 kg). You and Joel both stare at the dog, then Carter calls from inside, “Miller!”

Joel looks around to make sure you’ll be alright for a minute. “Don’t move. Stay alert. Hand on your gun.”

As Joel goes inside, Carter says, “Think he’s alive.”

“Infected?”Joel asks.

“Nah, see the track marks?”

“Piece’a shit left his dog to die.”

Outside, the dog watches you. He sits attentively with his head down. You put on a soothing voice for him. "Hey, buddy. Whatcha doin'?" He lowers his head almost to the ground as he slowly stretches his arms out, then his tail starts to wag hesitantly, staying close to the ground. He begins to whine. There are a couple of bones behind him with no meat left on them at all.

Carter comes out to watch you. There's a metal bowl upside down out of the dog's reach. "He needs water," you say. Carter looks around then reaches into his backpack and hands you his water. You pour some into the dish for the dog, and his tail begins to wag with more pep. When you reach out to touch the dog, he flinches and backs away, then cautiously returns and gets closer to you than he was.

Carter gets closer, and when he reaches out for the dog, it growls and barks ferociously. Carter isn't afraid–it's too small to be afraid of. He reaches for the dog's collar and the dog chomps his hand with a vicious growl, high pitched from his throat. He doesn't want to let go.

"DAMN!" Carter yells. "SHIT," he shakes his hand.

"No," you firmly tell the dog. The dog lowers his stomach onto the ground and raises his brows pathetically with a whine.

"He's just scared," you tell Carter as he rinses the wound with the rest of his water.

"I know, I know," Carter nods. He puts his water back in his backpack. "Feisty little fucker." He spits on the ground.

“We’ve gotta get him out of this,” you mutter.

Carter tries to stop you. “Don’t touch–”

You hold your hand out to the dog, and Carter sighs in resignation. The dog reaches his neck out to sniff you, then licks you. He lets you touch him. Then you touch his collar and he growls, but not as bad. The collar has inner spikes that must be hurting him. It's too big and has some slack hanging down from where it's been tightened.

Joel comes outside with a bag of tools clinking heavily against each other.

"What the hell's goin' on out here?" You give Carter a hopeful glance and he doesn't snitch on the dog for biting him.

You look at Joel. "He's gonna die if we don't get him free," you explain. Joel lunges toward the dog and you try to warn him, "WAIT-" Joel stops short of bending over and instead looks at you. The dog goes after his ankle, bearing his teeth and going nuts. Joel shakes his leg free. You tell the dog, “No" and he submits on the ground with a whine. Joel looks at the dog and raises his gun.

"You wouldn't," you whine. "He's protecting me."

“Course i wouldn’t. Damn.”

Joel steps closer and aims at the drain pipe behind the dog, shooting the chain to break it. It hurts your ears but it works. The dog yelps and skips out from the building, chain dragging behind him. Joel takes the bag of tools back to the truck where they found the part, leaving Carter with you while you try to free the dog.

"C'mere," you sit back on your knees and open your arms for the dog. With the freedom of movement, you can work the collar off him. The dog whimpers and paws at the collar with you. When he lets out a sharper, high pitched whimper, you freeze as it triggers a memory. Your chest feels hollow and long-buried grief stabs at the backs of your eyes. You push it away. You don't want to cry. You want to be tough and whatever else you need to be for Joel to always take you with him. The dog whimpers again and you return to the task. You free him from the collar and he trots away from the house.

— Joel ⛓️ —

When he gets back, the dog is playfully pawing at your knees. You scratch behind his ears and he rolls over. One look at your face and Joel knows what you want.

"Alright, let's go," Joel says and looks at the ground next to you. He steps forward and the dog growls. "It's ok," you tell the dog and you reach for Joel's hand.

“Maybe he wants to come with us,” you say as casually as you can.

Joel clenches his jaw and shakes his head.

"I can take care of him," you plead, your eyes big and watery. "He's not big, he doesn't need much."

Joel shifts his weight as he looks at you for a moment. "I know ya get bored-"

"Not because I'm bored," you protest. "He's hungry."

"No," Joel tells you firmly and your tears overflow. God damnit, not here. He's hungry because he was chained. He'll be fine now.

Joel doesn't want to share resources, doesn’t want the barking to attract attention, and doesn’t want someone to come after the dog–after you–if there’s anyone left to come. The junkie inside is as good as dead, but they run in packs and they’re dangerous.

"It's for your own good, sweet pea.” Joel really thinks it is.

You shake your head no. "I had one," you sniffle. "Before."

Joel’s nostrils flare at the shake of your head, then his stomach drops. He doesn't want to know about before. He does, but he really doesn't. He covers his mouth with the crook of his thumb as he rubs both sides of his beard. Before. It gets harder and harder to avoid. He shakes it off. All he can do is keep you safe and take care of you the best he can, which means taking care of only you. He shakes his head no again, then reaches into his backpack. He throws a piece of jerky as far as he can. “He’s fed, Gonna be fine.” He throws another piece.

You watch the dog run off for the jerky, but you're in a trance, thinking about something else.

“Let’s go, baby,” Joel steps forward, wraps a hand around the inside of your bicep, and gently pulls. You try to resist walking, and his grip gets firmer. You stand there watching the dog, feet planted on the ground, muscle tensing under Joel's grip.

Joel faces you and cups your face with both hands, making you look at him. He gets a few inches from your face and lowers his voice. “Ain’t gonna spank ya in front’a Carter, but ya better move.” He means it. Non-negotiable.

He grabs your arm again, and as he starts dragging you away, you blurt out, "Her name was Daisy. She saved my life."

Joel ignores it. “Move. Now. Or I’m pickin’ ya up.” You relent and stop resisting. Smart. He wouldn't want to regret bringing you with them.

Joel squints into the ground as the two of you walk. Carter walks ahead, not wanting to get in the middle of it. “Maybe this one could save me, too," you suggest. "if you’re gone.”

Damnit sweet pea, you sure are smart. Nice try, but that's what Carter is for.

"Dog that size?” Joel laughs. You compose yourself. You walk in silence for a few minutes, but Joel is still thinking about it. “How,” Joel asks, and adjusts his backpack. “How’d she save you? Must’a been bigger, right? meaner?”

Carter looks over his shoulder with a side-eye at the word “meaner,” but doesn’t reveal his injury.

You don’t answer Joel. You're checked out. You keep eyeing the tree line, but you wouldn’t. . . There's no way you’d run, right?

You look at him with your eyes red. “You don’t wanna hear it.”

The vacant look on your face makes Joel stop in his tracks to face you. “Tell me,” he demands.

You sniffle and look toward the tree line again. “Can I go pee?”

Joel can’t read you right now, which disturbs him. “Yeah,” he mutters and puts his massive hand on your back, guiding you to the edge of the forest.

He starts to come in behind you, and you ask him, “Do you mind if I go?”

He swallows and furrows his brow as he looks at you. You must read his concern, because you hand him your bag. He nods. He steps into the woods, but tries to give you some space, without losing track of you. He doesn't wanna have to chase you down, but damnit he'll tackle you if he has to, to save you from yourself. His stomach is uneasy.

There’s a hollow, rusted truck about 30 paces away. You go on the other side of it. Joel knows you’re not just pouting about leaving the dog. There's more to this. But you’re right, he’s not sure if he wants to know.

Until he hears you sniffling, and it's not just sad, it's scared, painful.

Ah, fuck it. He moves as quietly as he can.

“Sweet pea,” he says softly as he walks around the old hollowed-out car. You’re squatting–not peeing, just hugging your knees, facing the abandoned car. You're shaking and your cheeks are wet. There's not much space, but Joel gets between you and the car. He takes his backpack off and drops it to the side.

“She wasn’t afraid like me, Daisy,” you choke out and wipe your cheeks with the heel of one palm. “They,” you croak. You pause and try again. “He had a gun-” you close your eyes. “Pointed at, pointed at me," you take a deep breath and keep your eyes pinched shut. "He was, he was gonna—but she wouldn’t," you choke on a breath. "She wouldn't stop barking.”

"Shhhhh, it's ok." Joel cuts you off. It's too hard to see you re-living this. He doesn't want you to get to the details. He squats down. His head is full of pressure, and his heart is full of rage. You take shaky, shallow breaths.

He puts a hand on your shoulder and lets his knees into the ground. “Breathe,” he says. “Breathe, sweet pea.” You lean forward, letting your weight into his arms, and he holds you for a minute as you regain your breath. He cradles your head. "Yeah, you're okay, I got ya." He buries his mouth in your hair. "I got ya, baby," he whispers. You wipe your eyes on his shoulder and your cheek catches on the holster. When you lift your head, you apologize and he shakes his head no. He brushes a fresh tear off your cheek, and arousal stirs in his pants.

“Who did it,” he asks, unable to mask the darkness in his question.

“Just a guy,” you tell him. A guy like himself, Joel assumes with disdain.

“What kinda guy”

You sigh and he hates making you think about this, but he needs the answer. “Mean. Had a gold tooth.”

Joel takes a deep breath and nods.

"FEDRA," you add, and Joel's face goes cold. His mind goes blank. For a moment, he doesn't even breathe as the life is sucked out of him and replaced by ice cold rage. FEDRA. Not a guy like him.

“How’d ya get away?” Joel asks.

You look at him for a second, doing a double take at his face. You shake your head. “You don’t wanna hear it." You bury your head in his neck again. You’re right, he doesn’t want to, but he insists.

“Tell me.”

“Jah–” you stop and look at Joel’s face. His jaw clenches. He knows what's coming, but the thought of FEDRA has fortified him with numbness.

“S’okay, sweet pea.”

“Jack shot’m.”

Joel takes a deep breath and looks up at the forest canopy, then bows his head and looks at your knees, bracketed by his own. For a moment, Joel is filled with an uncomfortable appreciation for Jack. But that fades into, no, it should have been Joel, he should’ve had you all along, he should’ve been there to save you *and* your dog.

“He take good care of ya?” Joel asks in self-loathing.

You shrug.

“Better than. . .now?” He can take it.

“No,” you shake your head. “He didn’t shoot him dead.”

Jackass fucking moron cuck. He left that motherfucker breathing? Suddenly Joel is glad he killed Jack.

Joel nods, “I see.” He keeps nodding slowly, looking to his right at the moss on a far off tree, clenching his jaw.

"And I didn't have a gun," you add. "Cause I killed a guy Jack said not to." Joel scoffs. You could've killed the guy yourself if not for Jack.

You continue, “and. . . Jack didn’t cook.” Joel chuckles, caught off guard -- he'd forgetten his original question. You keep going, “And he didn’t–I didn’t–I didn’t feel the same,” you wipe your eyes. This has gone far enough, and Joel knows it's his own fault. His stupid question. He takes the toothpick from behind his ear.

You look at him with your eyes all watery, and Joel's cock twitches. The next thing he knows, his massive hand is wrapped gently around your jaw. You put your hands on his shoulders, then straddle him. You wrap your arms around his neck.

"Mmm," he sighs as your warm crotch meets the bulge in his jeans, and he swells harder against you. He holds your face about two inches from his, looking down at your mouth, then your nose, and your eyes again. He puts his toothpick in his mouth and looks past you as he lets go of your jaw. You bury your head in his neck, blinking warm tears into his skin, making him harder. He whispers your name. He relaxes and takes the toothpick out of his mouth just in time for a branch to fall on the car with a loud clang.

"All good?" Carter yells from the treeline.

“Shouldn’t stay here long,” Joel mumbles as he puts it back behind his ear. ”Bad area.” He eases you off his lap back onto your feet, as you both stand up. He brushes dead leaves off his pants and your knees. He adjusts himself, puts his backpack over one shoulder, then reaches down and you take his hand. You walk a few steps together and he looks back at you slightly behind him. He realizes you’re shaking. He drops your hand, goes in his backpack, and pulls out a flannel that he packed even though you said you were fine. He unfolds it, holds it out, and helps you put it on.

“Thanks,” you whisper and rub your nose. He keeps his hand on the back of your neck as you walk.

Joel stews and broods as you leave the forest together. He wants to go back in time and kill everyone who’s ever hurt you, anyone who let you get hurt, and anyone who failed to hurt the people who hurt you. His muscles are all tense, and his veins are throbbing.

When you get to the treeline, Joel asks Carter, "Can ya gimme five?"

"Sure thing, boss.".

“No ones gonna miss that asshole," Joel mutters as he checks his gun then sets his sights on the house.

Joel can’t go back in time, but by God, he’s got to kill someone. He drops his backpack then hurries back to the abandoned house, rifle in both hands. When he gets there, he puts the rifle around his back and grabs the dog chain off the ground on his way in.

—---You 🌸🫛-—

You and Carter look at each other. “How’s your hand?” you ask him.

“It’ll be fine,” he reassures you. “I dunno where the little bugger went,” he looks around for the dog.

You both ignore the sound of the chain thrashing around until you hear grunting and look toward the house. Punches are landing. Carter puts a hand on his rifle but doesn’t move yet. Joel grunts and yells between punches. A minute later, Joel steps out of the house, walking backwards, with the chain pulled taught, and a bloody man dragging behind him. Joel kicks him up against the wall, hits him in the face with the butt of his rifle, then wraps the chain around the drain pipe where the dog was tied up. Joel hits the man again, then aims the rifle and calmly shoots him. Even if you never see the dog again, you're certain the dog is better off without that man. Joel wipes blood splatter off his brow and scowls at the ground as he walks back to you and Carter.

“Ya good?” Carter asks him.

Joel nods. He’s sweaty, chest heaving. You try not to let your eyes linger on the remaining blood. You observe his throbbing veins instead. The whole scene has you clenching your thighs.

You walk mostly in silence. When you stop for water, you realize you're being followed. Joel doesn’t notice, but you see the dog duck behind an old car when you turn around. You keep a straight face.

You hear something in the distance. Dust is kicked up down the road. Carter says, “Finally.” It’s the van that still works, picking you up. You didn't know it was coming and wish the dog could follow you the rest of the way home, but you don’t say anything. You're glad he's unchained.

—–

When you get back to the stash house, Joel works on the broken down van. When he’s done for the day, he takes you back to the trailer and washes the grease off. When he comes out of the bathroom, you're sitting in the window nook looking at your book, but thinking about the dog. He comes over, wiping his hands off on a towel. "Wanna go out 'n' shoot?" He seems to want to cheer you up.

Joel goes first. He looks through the scope at the trailer park. Ever since those guys showed up one night, he's looking for other raiders or troublemakers. Then he lines up a shot at the usual target. Your eyes are on his biceps. When Joel is about to take aim, the rare sound of ducks honking startles you. They should’ve already flown South. Joel gets up on his knees and aims toward the front of the flock. He hits one, shifts ahead of the flock, and hits another. It gives you butterflies. You hear a thud as the second one hits the ground.

“Nice!” you tell him. He winks at you and puts the gun strap over his shoulder. You smooth your dress under your butt as you stand up, then adjust the thigh holster. Joel groans as he stands up. You peer down toward where the birds fell, and something is moving up the hill. A bird, moving strangely. A dead bird, in a little dog's mouth.

You gasp. Joel looks at you, then follows your eyes. The bird is as big as the dog. His mouth is open wide to fit the neck. He crests the hill and drops the bird. "Good boy!" You praise. He does a happy circle and trots back down the hill.

You look at Joel and try not to smile. Joel puts his hand on his hip and shifts his weight to one leg. He looks down at the ground and rubs brow with the flat of his index finger, squinting. When the dog returns with the second bird, Joel mutters, "alright, big guy," and squats down to accept the bird from his mouth. Then you barely hear him mutter, "good boy." The dog does another circle and trots around the other side of the trailer.

"How'd he find us, all this way?" You marvel.

"Must have some hound in’m," Joel shakes his head. “Guess ya made an impression.”

Joel starts a fire and boils two big pots of water. The dog keeps a respectful distance, lounging in the same clover patch where you were sitting earlier. Joel chops the heads and feet off the birds, and tosses them on the ground. The dog scurries over, wagging his tail. He drags one of the duck heads over to the grass to chew on with his butt in the air and his tail wagging furiously, all the way upright now.

Joel beckons you back inside to wash up and change. He takes a quick shower while you take off the flannel and wash your hands in the kitchen sink. You take off the belt, untethering the ribbons, but you leave the holster on. You sit back down in the window nook.

—-

When Joel comes out from the bathroom, he sits down, manspreads, and pats the kitchen table in front of him, looking at the skirt of your dress as you get up from your seat. You unholster your gun and set it down, then use your hands to help yourself onto the surface, sitting on your dress so your thighs won't stick. Joel spreads your knees so he can be between them, and grabs your ass to scoot you closer.

He lifts the dress to look at the holster, and he puts his toothpick in his mouth.

"s'prised it worked," he mutters. He eyes your legs and runs his hands all the way up your thighs with a deep breath. "Looks good on ya, too," he murmurs. He thumbs the ribbon of the holster, then unties it. He unbuckles the real strap, too. Then he lifts your knee, slides the holster out from under you, and sets it aside with the gun. He runs his hand over the indentation in your skin from the buckle. "that hurt?" He asks.

"No."

He puts his elbows down on either side of your hips, and his biceps rest against your thighs. He looks back and forth between your breasts and takes the toothpick out of his mouth. Without taking his eyes off you, he throws it into the kitchen sink and it hits the metal with a light plink.

He furrows his brow and looks at your body, then puts his cheek flat against your breast at the lace neckline of your cotton dress while he palms the opposite tit. He turns his face to nose your nipple, and it hardens through the fabric of your dress. He dampens the cotton with his mouth as he flattens his tongue against it. One hand holds your back, near your shoulder blade for leverage, with his thumb hooked under your arm.

He kisses wetly at your breast through your dress, then glances up at you. His hands slide up to the straps of your dress. He gently nudges the straps off your shoulder. His fingers skim your nipples as he curls his thick fingers into the lace neckline, then pulls the dress down below your tits. He presses his wide tongue onto your nipple and closes his eyes as he latches onto it. Then he lets go with a soft pop and sucks below the nipple as he massages the other breast. You're gushing arousal with your legs wide open. He inhales through his nose and his stomach growls.

"Joel," you sigh, resting your hands on his muscular back. You watch his vein

His only response is "Mmm," into your nipple. You're throbbing, and the more attention he pays to your tits, the more your cunt aches to be filled. You want to let him explore your body, it's not something he normally does, but it also makes you want his cock so bad. You want him to slide you off the table and sink you onto his massive erection. He's really taking his time. You take a deep breath and try to relax. Your clit twitches.

Joel pulls down the dress a little more, exposing an inch or two below your breasts. He switches sides, dragging his mouth to his right, your left. With your left nipple in his mouth, he looks up at you and makes sleepy eye contact. His pupils are blown wide.

"Joel, I want it," you plead.

His tongue trails as he moves his mouth an inch to the right of your nipple, then he closes his eyes again. He licks and sucks the outer curve of your breast, massaging the other one with a thumb lightly brushing the nipple, then the heel of his palm flattening it into your breast. His eyes open to watch his massive hand moving languidly on your breast.

You whine his name again and slot your fingers into his dark, curly hair. He doesn't look up. You finger his curls and the pads of your fingers lightly caress his scalp. He pulls his mouth off your breast and backs his head away enough to look at your body. You let your fingers fall out of his hair and rest back on his shoulders. One of his hands moves to rest on your hip, his fingers curling around your flesh and his thumb brushing the hem of your dress.

His voice is low and husky. "Ever feel like ya just. . ." He meets your gaze with hungry eyes, then looks at your lips. "gotta have your mouth on somethin’?"

His eyes fall down your body as he sits back and palms himself through his jeans. You whisper "yeah," with a smile and begin to scoot off the table so you can suck him off. He abruptly leans forward and stops you with both hands firmly on your hips. He doesn't let you move. His brow furrows. He looks back and forth between your breasts and noses a nipple again. He murmurs low and gruff into your supple skin, "Ain't talkin' 'bout you."

Your chest erupts in goosebumps. He drags his hands down your dress to the bare skin of your legs, then slides his massive palms back up your thighs, slipping his fingers under your dress, leaving his thumbs hooked on top. You brace your hands on the table to lift your butt for him. His hands keep moving up, reaching your hips. The fabric of your dress bunches above your ass, then he curls his fingers under the waistband of your panties and begins to take them down. You let yourself back down on the table as he slides the underwear down your legs. It dangles between his fingers as he brings his hand to your neck and caresses the side of your throat with his thumb.

You feel the damp cotton against your throat and smell your own arousal as he grips your jaw. He locks eyes with you for less than a second before his gaze drifts downward. He returns his other palm to your breast, fingers slotting under your arm to hold you steady as he pushes you down until your back is flat on the table. He nudges your thighs farther apart. He sucks in a sharp breath through his nose and hums "Mmm."

He drops the panties on the table. He spreads you open and thumbs your folds, bringing the moisture up to your clit. He hunches over to bring his face between your legs and his left hand reaches up to fondle a breast. He drags his nose through your slick and inhales, then moans at your scent. He plants his mouth on the crease of your thigh. He sucks the skin into his mouth, then lets go. He runs two knuckles through your folds, then gently nudges his middle finger inside. Your walls spasm around the intrusion and he breathes, "god damn."

He pumps his finger once and adds a second digit. You moan, and he hums a deep "Mmm," in response. He takes his fingers out and sucks one, then both into his mouth. "Fuck," he breathes.

He doesn't waste any more time, spreading you wide open with his thumbs and burying his face in your cunt. He starts at your entrance where your wetness pools and licks up from there, punctuating the first lick with a kiss on the clit that makes your thighs tremble. Then he laps at you more selfishly, like he's thirsty, like he needs to drink you. His tongue starts flat and stiffens as he digs for more and explores each crevasse. He moans into your folds. You've never felt anything as powerful and precise as his tongue. It's stronger than his fingers. It makes you tingle in one swipe, then presses into the tingle for relief. He holds you gently until you wriggle in pleasure and he holds you down firmer with one forearm across your lower belly.

He breathes through his nose and moans as he devours you. When he pauses, he draws in a deeper breath through his mouth then exhales vocally against your wet cunt.

"Feel good?" He asks with a glance to your face, then plants his mouth on your clit.

He slides one then two fingers into your core again and you gasp then answer "y-yeah," as he sucks your clit while he pumps them.

He takes his arm off your abdomen to unbutton his pants and take his stiff cock out. He pulls his face away from your pussy. You're throbbing, and your body races to replenish all the moisture he's sucked up. He gathers some on his fingers then also spits into his hand and wraps it around his length. You want it inside you so, so bad. You hear the squelching as his hand moves up and down his shaft.

He brings his face between your legs again and puts his arm back on top of you to hold you still, angling his elbow so his thumb is planted at your clit. He laps at you again, moaning into your throbbing, swollen lips. He firmly licks between your clit and hole, then thrusts his tongue into your entrance and you whimper. He tilts his head and jabs his sharpened tongue into you again and again, pumping his cock all the while. He noses your clit as he sucks and laps, then fucks you with his tongue again.

You writhe under his arm. "Yeah," he whispers before planting his mouth again. He works your clit with his thumb as he thrusts his tongue into you, dragging it against the top wall, and your desperate cunt twitches against him. You let out a long whine, and his thumb gently rubs the top of your clit, over your hood.

"Joel," you whimper and it turns into a moan.

His thumb slows down, and he gathers more slick on his fingers. He wipes it on his shaft, then pulls you by the thighs closer to the edge, unsticking your bare ass from the table. You sit up on your elbows and whimper, "want you. . ."

He's holding his cock, chest heaving. "Want this?"

"Yeah-yes," you whimper. "Please."

He gazes darkly at your cunt and decides, "Ain't done yet."

You whine his name as he puts his face between your legs again. He sucks your clit for a few seconds until you're whimpering, then he plants his mouth a little lower. He flattens two fingers to rubs your clit while he fucks you with his tongue. You moan his name as your climax seizes you, and you clench around his tongue. He moves his hand from your clit to your mound to hold you steady as you come. He withdraws his tongue from your hole and laps up and down your folds for a few seconds as you continue to twitch.

Then he stands up, holding his stiff, wet cock. His face is flushed, and he's shiny from the nose down. He braces a hand on the table and teases your clit with his swollen tip. You flinch in pleasure, still reeling from your first orgasm. He notches his tip at your wet little hole, holds onto your thighs,.and shoves himself into you with a groan. He stays in for a moment, sighing “Ohh, fuck,” admiring your body as it rushes to accommodate him. You spasm around him, still twitching with aftershocks.

He backs up then slams into you with a low growl from his chest. It's a lot to take, but god it feels good. He lifts your legs and puts his arms under your knees, wrapping his hands over to hold your thighs as he buries his length in you, grunting and sighing. His balls slap against your ass. His biceps flex, and It isn't long before you begin to moan and writhe, and squeeze his cock.

"Good girl," he breathes. "Good, sweet pea."

He closes his eyes and fucks you through it. He breathes deep and slow, like he's trying not to come yet. He slows way down, moans, then bottoms out and begins to pulse. He brings his hands to either side of your body and hovers over you while he thrusts slowly with each warm burst he releases. You milk his cock until his balls are empty, then your contractions fade.

Joel hovers there, admiring your body. Then he slides out and sits down on the chair between your legs again. His armpits are warm and humid on your thighs. He puts one hand on each breast and lowers his head to rest his cheek on your lower abdomen, tickling you with his beard. He wipes his mouth on your belly and a spot of drool from the corner of his mouth hits your skin. He stares off at the front door of the trailer in a trance, gently cupping your breasts. He mumbles, "Taste so good, sweet pea."

You reach for his hair and he doesn't stop you from fingering his curls. His eyelids droop, and after a few seconds, he closes his eyes. You lightly massage his scalp again.

He only allows himself a minute or two before he tenses and clears his throat. He lifts his head and slides his hands under your arms, helping you sit up straight.

“I'll check the birds,” he says as he tucks his cock away. He squeezes your thigh and gives you a wink before he stands up to go outside.

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Thank you for reading and engaging 🖤 It means the world to me when you show him your love! whether this post is new or old. I also love when people throw a comment when they re-read. It's like adding coals to the fire that keeps me warm and writing lol.

You can find more raider!Joel oral on the raider master list under hypotheticals/imagines/HCs.

My tag lists are being phased out. . . please subscribe to notifications on @toxicfics.

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All Joel minus ones i'm pretty sure already saw it or are on toxic notifs or don't read joel anymore? . . : @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @neobanguniverse@quietlyignoringyou

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tw animal death #tw animal neglect #dark!joel miller #raider!joel miller #toxicanonymity ☠️#raider!joel #raider!joel ☠️

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cryptidghostgirl · 4 months

Text

What Can I Do For You? (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Prompt: what if the deal restricting Alastor's powers is with you? haha, unless....

Warnings: THIS IS NOT SMUT. However, there will be some abusive/unhealthy relationship things obvi. One (1) bad word (I think).

Word count: 1,855

Master lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

A/N this is just a reminder that I do accept requests if anyone is interested!

She was waiting there for him when he got back. Of course she was. Sitting in the chair of his recording studio, leaned back and casual. She acted like she owned the place.

It had been a few weeks since she'd sent him to the Hazbin Hotel. Alastor still didn't know the reasons but, him confirming the success of his appointment of the place had been the last time they'd spoken, it had been the last time he had seen her.

Quietly, Alastor pulled himself from the door way, his heart pounding frantically, halfway between anger and something akin to joy. He walked up to her, his hands placidly clasped behind his back. Stopping a few feet away, she turned to face him.

There it was, that sickly smile. Part of what had gotten him into this mess in the first place. There was a reason Alastor had avoided intimacy, love, complex feelings like that for so long and it was because he knew they made him weak. If he cared, he always thought, his enemies could use the object of his care against him. Simple as that.

Never in his wildest dreams did he think that it was the hypothetical person he might care for who would use his affections to their advantage. He had been naïve. He had been a fool.

The red light from the night sky crashed against her face, throwing her features into sharp contrast. She crossed her legs, the length of her skirt revealing her thighs just the slightest bit above her laced combat boots. She tilted her head slightly to the side. She was beautiful, just as beautiful as the day he'd met her.

That had all been part of the act as well, being small and afraid under the grips of that man. Alastor had heard her scream and found them in the ally. He had killed the man, reaching a hand out to the trembling demon. Hesitantly, she had taken it.

"I've been waiting." she hummed, her voice warm and inviting but with a cold sharp under-layer.

It was the voice someone had when they held a knife behind their back, knew they had the trump card, knew they couldn't loose. When he had first met the woman twelve years before, it had pulled him in. There was a curious depth to it he just couldn't help but want to uncover, need to uncover.

"My apologies." he softly replied, "If I had known, I would have come sooner."

Her smile widened, matching his own in its wildness. Sharp teeth, sharp eyes, sharp heart. Every fiber of his being told him to pick an option, fight or flight. He kept it all at bay, there was no other option. Not any more.

"I know." she hummed, taunting him, "You're quiet domesticated now."

There had been a time when her saying something like that might have made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside. There had been a time where the word, domesticated, would have meant in love and together, not bound to her side for all eternity.

Now it just made Alastor feel sick to his stomach. Shame rose within him, making his cheeks glow pink. She chuckled at the sight.

"Now that's a sight that never gets old."

"What?"

"The feared Radio Demon, one of the most powerful overlords in all of Hell -- ashamed."

Alastor didn't reply. After a moment, she sighed, pulling herself to her feet. She circled him like a mad dog, like she was stalking prey. He didn't watch her, but his ears twitched, following the sound of her footsteps. She came to a stop behind him.

"What can I do for you?" he asked, clearing his throat.

She reached up, grabbing his shoulders gently in her hands. Even after all this time, all these years, all that had happened, he melted at her touch. That's what five years of building trust, forging love, did. Even if the seven after were hell, even if she had tricked him, betrayed him, time and time again, Alastor couldn't help it. He was weak and pliant beneath her skilled touch.

"What, I can't just check in on my favorite pet?" she asked innocently, rubbing his shoulders gently.

"Y/n..." Alastor sighed, letting his hands fall to his sides, "please, just tell me what you want."

She abruptly stopped in her movements at the sound of her name. It was a rare gift to hear it from someone's lips other than her own. Hell's Hunter Demon didn't share her true name, didn't reveal her face to anyone. It had been part of the trust building, the day she had finally given both to him.

When he had first met her, he had recognized her immediately from the stories. Alastor was on the verge of killing her, adding her voice to the broadcast to prove his power but, seeing the way she shook stopped him. He had smiled to himself, he had thought he had learned a secret about one of the most feared overlords in Hell besides himself. He had thought he had the upper hand.

"Say it again."

"Y/n."

She had been so sweet at first, so docile. He was set on getting her soul, making her subservient. The longer he had lain in wait to enact his little plan, the more he had gotten to know her. Y/n had a sharp wit and an even sharper tongue, she was clever and had a kind side to her that she hid well. It hadn't taken much for him to realize he was falling in love.

That had been terrifying, the first truly scary thing the Radio Demon had encountered since arriving in Hell. It had tortured him for months and he'd consulted every one he knew and trusted on the matter. Finally, Rosie was the one who had convinced him to just tell her, had told him she might feel the same way too. As much as he wanted to blame Rosie for that, Alastor couldn't bring himself to. She hadn't known, they'd both been in the dark, captivated by her sweet austere brilliance.

They had gotten a few happy moments together, a few blissful years. There had been time before she had revealed her true colors and what a lovely time it had been.

A shiver trickled down both their spines in the silence, the sound of his tongue forming the syllables of her name bringing back memories of brighter times. She took her hands from his shoulders, coming to stand before him once again.

Y/n was a book in a language he didn't know, an undeciphered code. Mouth drawn into a thin line, hands daintily placed on her hips, he watched her as she watched him. Unbidden thoughts, unbidden memories, the same ones as always, filtered into his mind. He couldn't help but wonder now, as he had a hundred times before, if it had all truly been a lie. If it had all been some ruse to get what she wanted.

Alastor had to admit, she had gotten him fair and square. Y/n had had him so absolutely wrapped-around-her-pinky-finger in love that she hadn't even been the one to bring up the deal. He had thought he was being sweet, romantic even. It was unfamiliar territory for the man and it had been important. He had fretted over the right way to ask her for weeks.

When he finally had, she was ecstatic at the idea of them joining souls, of giving themselves so fully and completely over to one another. A contract for each of them, an equal exchange.

As a sign of good faith, a mistake he would never be making again, Alastor had offered to go first. When the green smoke had lifted from their clasped hands and he had first caught sight of her face, of her wicked grin, he knew he had fucked up.

Y/n stepped up to him. With a gentle hand, she wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye. Alastor hadn't even realized it had been there, so preoccupied with his own pity. He held his smile strong as she examined the little drop of salt water on her finger, smiling ruefully.

"What do I want from you." she mused softly to herself, "Well, I think I already have everything, wouldn't you agree?"

A green chain materialized in her hand as she spoke, the tear hitting it, melding with the metal as it became solid and she grasped it firmly. With a tug, she sent Alastor to the floor. He fell to his knees harshly, the impact reverberating through his bones.

He had loved her once. Now, looking up at her, he loved her still. He was a fool, through and through. Not because of his persisting love but because of his persisting hope, the fact that he had trusted her. The fact that he still trusted her. The fact that after everything, it somehow still made him the slightest bit joyful to see Y/n smiling and know he was the cause.

More than anything, he wanted to ask her if she regretted what had happened, what she had done. Alastor held his tongue. Even if she was, it was too late. There was no point in asking.

"I can't keep doing this." was what he chose to say instead, his voice was barley more than a whisper.

Y/n's smile fell, her eye brows raised as she crouched down in front of him, pulling the chain tight between them. She delicately placed a finger beneath his chin, forcing his eyes to meet hers.

"It doesn't matter. You will."

He knew she was right. Curse or no curse, he would come when she called.

"What can I do for you?" he asked again, his tone resolute.

"You can burn."

And burn he did.

There was a reason Alastor had avoided intimacy, it was because he had been afraid of it. A secret part of him had always yearned, a secret part that even now still felt fulfilled at her gentle touch. All along, he had been right that love would destroy him. Never in his wildest dreams did he think that it would have happened in this way or, that after everything, he would still care for the woman in question, his captor.

"Ask me again." she commanded.

"What can I do for you?"

He had been naïve, a fool.

"You can rot for all I care. Ask me again."

He was a fool still. A fool in love, a fool destroyed.

"What can I do for you?"

His breaths were labored, his heart open and bloodied. Y/n held it in the palms of her hands, given willingly. She radiated power crouched before him, holding his head close to hers with the chain.

"You can obey. Will you?"

"Yes."

The metal, cold and heavy, tugged against his neck, bruising the bone of his spine.

"For how long?"

"Forever."

There was no hesitation in his voice. A smile split her face in two, wicked and hungry.

"Good."

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coryosbaby · 3 months

Text

18+, MDNI !! stepcest, daddy kink, d/s dynamics

Thinkin’ about stepdad! Hannibal and the many secrets the two of you shared.

His killings were the first to be revealed. Somber, delectable dishes that he cooked for you and your mother seemed to hold a completely different meaning now. The catch of his breath when he heard of a killer on the news or the way he smirked when you confirmed his alibi— ‘yes, of course daddy was here last night! We were cooking dinner!‘— seemed to make sense when that glazed over look in your eyes locked with his. The gifts he brought you, rings and necklaces and bracelets, all seemed to have an uncanny resemblance to a missing girl’s jewelry collection. A risky thing to do, taking his victim’s jewelry, but he only wanted the best for his favorite girl.

The second secret: gentle massages. Not in any terrible place, really— just your inner thighs, your hips, sometimes your behind if you behaved. It was the most sore, after all.

Which brings us to the third secret.

The spankings only started out when you were naughty. A bad grade in your college psychology course? ‘You should know these things, sweet girl, should know because I teach you. Do I need to punish you for not listening?’ A smart mouthed word to him after an argument? ‘Bend over the table. I’m sick of this disrespect, little girl.’ This, in turn, lead to the paddle that Hannibal had bought and stamped with your name in pretty cursive writing. Something that your mother didn’t know about, didn’t need to know about. It would take away the fun.

The fourth secret happened a few months after the last. A gnarley punishment for talking to a nasty boy from your class, equipped with your bare ass exposed and panties pulled down to your knees. Hannibal had never done this before, given that he wanted to save you the humiliation. But you had deserved it, really— you told him that, after a terrible date with that boy that he had warned you about.

“Daddy, you were right. He was so gross ‘n mean, and he tried to kiss me!”

His lips had formed into a thin line (he would deal with him later), and he had patted his lap. You had crawled into it, sweet and willing, and he had quietly asked you to bend over his knee. Hicupping, still teary eyed and pouty, you had obeyed. His hands had ghosted along the hem of your skirt, making you feel tingly all over.

“I’m going to lift up your skirt and pull down your underwear. Is that okay with you?”

You had nodded. Anything to please him.

“Good,” he had said, as he began pulling the sticky fabric of your panties from your drooling cunt. He had picked up the paddle, big hands covering the handle. “I didn’t want to have to do this, but your actions have consequences. You know what I said about talking to other boys, little girl.”

Oh, and when he slipped inside for the first time. It was by accident, honest! He had comforted you after a nightmare, holding you close against his body while everyone else slept. You had squirmed, pushing yourself back against him, needy. He had sighed against you, poking you with the thick cock in between his legs.

“What are you doing?”

“Just— can’t get comfy, daddy—“ a small, annoyed grunt, and wide eyes as you felt him poking against one of your cheeks.

“Daddy?” You had whispered, flushed. He had groaned. So much for keeping his composure.

Slipping his fingers down to his pajama pants, pulling his length out to rest against his thigh. His fingers had ghosted over your shorts, pulling the fabric aside to probe his tip against your folds.

“Now look what you’ve done,” he had growled, ignoring your small whimper of surprise when he breached you. “Stay still, little one. Daddy’s got another punishment to give you,” And then, pressing a kiss to your neck, “You can’t tell anyone, sweetheart. This needs to be one of our little secrets.”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy

#bunny writes ͟͟͞☆#Hannibal #Hannibal lecter #Hannibal lecter x reader #Hannibal lecter x fem! reader #Hannibal lecter smut #Hannibal lecter fanfic #Hannibal fanfic #Hannibal lecter blurb #Hannibal lecter Drabble #stepdad! hannibal lecter #dom! Hannibal lecter #Hannibal prompt

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rax-writes · 2 months

Text

↬ desperation

Daemon Targaryen x Reader

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ !! Smut, afab!reader, p in v sex, oral (f!receiving), not proofread, whole lotta breeding kink because my girlie @drizztdohurtin needed a fix

Upon deciding to turn in for the night, you only managed to remove one singular piece of jewelry before your husband's hands were on your hips, and his lips were on your neck, trailing desperate kisses along the curve of it.

"Hello to you, too," you jested, only earning a hum in response. It seemed Daemon's focus lay outside of pleasantries.

Unsurprising.

Daemon made quick work of your dress, and the moment he got to your thin linen shift, he was ripping it in two, wrenching it apart at the front and earning a small gasp from you.

"Gods, what's gotten into you today?" you inquired, although your voice held no agitation or malice.

"A burning desire for my beautiful wife. What else?" Daemon replied simply, groaning softly as he cupped your breasts in both of his hands, massaging them and leaving more kisses upon your neck and shoulder. Moments later, he pressed a kiss to the shell of your ear before earnestly whispering, "I need you, ābrazȳrys. You'll let me have you, won't you, ñuha jorrāeliarzy? I'll make it good for you, you know I will, my love...."

As he whispered these promises to you, one hand trailed down to your still-clothed sex, his middle finger rubbing you through the ever-dampening fabric.

Somehow, you managed to breathe out "Yes," and that was all it took for Daemon to hoist you into his arms and carry you to the bed. He all but threw you upon the mattress, and he hastily removed your underwear, throwing it so harshly that you'd think the garment itself had wronged him in some way.

Daemon dove between your thighs then, throwing them on his shoulders in a hurried manner, as though he couldn't get his mouth to your cunt fast enough. It was immediately clear that he did not intend to take his time tasting you as he normally would, but that did not mean it was unenjoyable. No, Daemon knew precisely how to get you off as quickly as possible, and he accomplished that goal in record time, moaning against you as his hot, desperate tongue hastily lapped up the juices that spilled from you.

You had half a mind to wonder if there was some sort of time crunch you were unaware of, as you watched him rip off his own clothing through half-lidded, hazy eyes. Once he was bare, Daemon met your gaze, and he had this... almost feral look in his eyes, as though he would either die or kill someone if he didn't bury himself inside you this very instant.

You had seen that look before. You knew what he was desperate for – what he was desperate to do.

Before you could address it, he was caging you with his arms and his body, moving your legs to his shoulders as he situated his knees on either side of your waist, already ensuring that he would reach as deep inside of you as possible, before the act had even begun. His eyes closed for a moment, and he exhaled very slowly, as he rubbed his cock against your wet warmth, before notching the head of it against your still-quivering cunt. He glanced at you, waiting for either confirmation or denial, and as soon as he saw your small nod, he filled you to the hilt in one swift thrust.

Daemon was not a meekly-endowed man, and the sudden sizable intrusion stole the air from your lungs. He usually rocked himself into you slowly, letting you adjust to his size before continuing. Even after countless experiences with bedding him, it was still a lot. It burned – just enough to feel positively fucking glorious. The gasp you'd let out faded to a moan, and Daemon knew that was a sufficient cue for him to continue, and he began a brutal pace.

Finally, he revealed the truth you'd already surmised, cradling your face a little while asking, "Issa dōna ābrazȳrys... will you give me another? Another child. I've spent all day picturing you with a rounded belly and swollen tits, and it's driven me to madness, my love. I need it. I need to see you so beautiful and so fucking full of me again. Please, ābrazȳrys, let me.... Let me fuck another babe into you...."

As though to sweeten the offer, he stopped cradling your face to reach down and begin rubbing your clit. Your ability to respond was cut off with another moan, and Daemon added another "Please." The way he wasn't quite begging, but still making it obvious that he would only do it if you were agreeable to it.... That had you throbbing around him. The mere notion that this man, this Rogue Prince that so many fear, is seeking your approval for finishing inside of you and giving you another child, for no other reason than he's desperate to see the way you look while carrying them. It was dizzying.

"Yes," you breathed, and Daemon's eyes met yours, an unmistakable glimmer of excitement in them. "Yes, my love. Give me another baby. Let everyone who looks at my rounded belly know that I belong to you, and you to me."

Daemon practically growled upon hearing your words, and removed his hand from your clit to move both hands behind the base of your head and grab two fistfuls of your hair in a tight grip, pounding into you with a newfound vigor. It didn't take him long to finish inside of you, the sensation and the positively feral look upon his face – the slight snarl of his upper lip, the way his teeth were clenched, the sheen of sweat on his brow – it all sent you hurtling over the edge as well, milking him until he had nothing left to give, his seed so abundant that it was spilling out of you as he continued to fuck the rest deeper, harder, desperate to ensure his seed takes hold within your womb.

#daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #hotd #the rogue prince #daemon #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x you #my writing #daemon targaryen fanfic #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen fic #daemon targaryen fan fiction #daemon targaryen fan fic #hotd fanfic #hotd fanfiction #hotd fan fiction #hotd fan fic #hotd fic

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ellecdc · 3 months

Text

Things You Can Say in a Swim Lesson & Also in Bed

meet cute/ugly - swim instructor!marauders + fem!reader

CW: learning to swim/fear of drowning, sexual innuendos, swearing (you know what to expect from me by now)

You were excited. Really, you were.

Your best friend in the entire world was getting married, and she wanted to be married in the Maldives. So, that’s where you were going.

It didn’t matter if you might need to take out a small loan to afford the trip and time off, and it doesn’t matter that all of the events happening before the event were just as expensive.

This was your best friend, dammit! And you were happy for her.

There was only one problem.

You can’t swim.

But that was going to change today! Or...at least in the next few weeks starting today because you were officially taking swimming lessons.

You were not going to fly to the most beautiful beaches and islands in the world and be the fall risk on bridges, docks, and boats. And for fuck’s sake, you were going to swim with the dolphins whether it killed you (literally) or not.

So, you signed up to take swimming lessons. You felt ridiculous.

You felt even more ridiculous as you stood in the changeroom of a very posh country club that your best friend’s fiancé’s parents own, in a one-piece swimsuit you bought just for these lessons (the only swimsuit’s you owned her two pieces because their main use was for tanning).

You tried to find the most modest swimsuit you could, which was very difficult and still not quite as modest as you’d like because for fuck’s sake why won’t the bum cover your entire arse cheek!?

The people leaving behind you were all middle-aged to senior couples who obviously worked in ‘the business’ whatever the fuck that meant because they can clearly afford the membership fees this place obviously charges per month if their gold and crystal chandeliers in the bathroom stalls meant anything.

You tried to readjust your poor swimsuit one last time before grabbing your towel and making your way to the pool. You just hoped you didn’t flash your tits to the other children likely attending swimming lessons.

Except...you got to the pool and there was no one else there.

Well, that’s not entirely true. There was one sexy looking lifeguard covered in various tattoos which stood out brilliantly against his fair skin. His black hair rivaled the ink of his tattoos and was long enough to be pulled back into a messy bun behind his head – though a few stray locks seemed determined to keep their place next to his sharp jawline.

You were jealous of strands of hair.

There was also another lifeguard on the other end of the pool putting away various life rings, flutter boards and lane dividers. He was just as striking as the first lifeguard for nearly opposite reasons. His skin was a deep tan colour, and he wasn’t built like a swimmer – rather, he was built quite like a body builder. His arms and torso were lined with hard defined muscle and his thighs...

For fuck’s sake, stop staring at the man’s thighs.

He had a mop of curly dark hair and a pair of glasses that seemed foggy with the humidity of the room; he seemed no less happy about his current surroundings because of it, however.

You awkwardly looked behind you into the changeroom to see if the rest of your class was coming out. Maybe you should text your friend? Ask her to confirm with her fiancé that you got the times right?

“Here for the swim lessons, love?” a deep, lilting voice startled you from your pondering.

You turned towards the voice and were accosted by the view of a third beautiful man.

Is it, like, a requirement to be hot as hell to work here!?

The man had honey blonde curls and eyes to match that screamed trouble, but the kind of trouble you’d far too willingly find yourself immersed in. Unlike his tanned, spectacled friend, this man was built like a swimmer; he was all long limbs and long muscles, and unfairly tall. You forgot how to speak.

“I’m Remus, I’ll be the instructor tonight. What’s your name?” He asked you like he didn’t have it in front of him on his damp clipboard.

You cleared your throat and offered it to him, and he smiled at your shyness. The smile pulled at a scar that ran through the right side of his lip, and you noticed that he had a few more scattered across his face. They didn’t make him any less handsome, however. Damn him.

“Alright, Y/N. What has motivated you to learn to swim?”

You furrowed your brows at him and looked behind yourself again. “Shouldn’t we wait for the rest of the class?”

His smile faltered as his brows furrowed to match yours. “Class?”

“Private lessons, Dollface.” The tattooed man drawled as he made his way over to you.

“You’ve got the pool to yourself tonight.” He added with a wink.

“This is a private class.” Remus clarified.

“Jesus Christ.” You muttered. You were startled by a bark of a laugh from the tattooed man and immediately flushed to realize you’d said that out loud.

“How did you not know you booked a private class?” Remus asked with a bemused smile.

You sighed, face feeling like it was about to melt off from sheer embarrassment. “I didn’t book it. My uhm, my friend’s fiancé’s family owns this place and said he’d set it up for me. I thought it was going to be a group thing.”

You felt awfully foolish as the two men nodded. “What made you want to learn?” Remus asked again.

“Uhm, that same friend – her wedding is this spring, and it’s a destination wedding.” But the tattooed man started nodding before you’d even finished.

“You wanna swim with the fishes, but not in the mobster way. Got it.” He said as he clapped his hands together.

“Sirius.” Remus gently chided the man. “That’s fair, well, you’ve given yourself a lot of time to learn. I figured we’d start by finding out how much you already know.”

You grimaced.

“Well, that’ll be easy, seeing as I know nothing.”

“Nothing?” Remus asked.

“Nothing.” You confirmed.

Sirius and Remus shared a glance before turning back to you with matching smiles.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

“Prongs! We got a firstie!” The tattooed man – Sirius – shouted to the tanned man across the pool as he confidently made his way to the edge of the pool. You opted to skirt around the edge – widely.

The tanned man gasped (far more dramatically than you felt the situation called for) and immediately dropped everything that had been in his arms.

“No.” He bellowed. “Can I help?!”

Great, now you were going to be inhaling pool water whilst three of the hottest men on earth watched – no big deal.

“That’s up to our swimmer.” Remus said as he looked towards you for an answer.

“I’d relax on the use of that title until you see me in the water.” You muttered.

Sirius barked another laugh, which made the corners of your mouth lift in comradery. He had a way of making you feel funnier than you likely were, just by enjoying your banter.

“What do you think? Me and James here can be the rest of the class you thought you would be a part of.” He offered with a smirk.

“Class?” James asked, “I thought this was a private session.”

“It is.” Remus answered with a slight edge, clearly used to the other two men getting off topic. “She had the lessons booked for her – she didn’t realize.”

“Gotcha” James said with a clap of his hands. “Okay, I’m all caught up, lets swim!” and with that, he jumped sideways and made a large splash as he landed in the water.

“You’re welcome to use the stairs like a civilized person.” Remus said to you kindly as Sirius cannonballed himself into the pool behind him. Upon hearing the splash, Remus closed his eyes in exasperation.

You took his advice and used the stairs, wading into the pool until the water hit around your waist.

“So, you’ve never been in a pool before?” Remus asked as he placed his clipboard on a flutter board and mindlessly sent it sailing to Sirius.

“No, not like this.”

“Okay. Do you know how to float?” He continued

You shook your head and looked down to the water.

“That’s alright. That’s perfect, that’s where we’ll start, alright?” He offered you, bending to try and catch your eyes. He was smiling kindly at you and his eyes oozed empathy.

“Here, Jamie and Sirius will demonstrate what we’ll do.”

Without a second though, James threw himself onto his back and brought his feet up, so he was floating on top of the water in a star-fished position.

Sirius smiled down at him like he was the sun and placed his arm just below him to ‘support his weight’ – though you were well aware that part was just for show.

“Now, we’ll do it right here where you are now; you can touch the bottom, so even if you feel like you’re going to sink, you can just stand up.” Remus encouraged you.

Your heart fell at the ‘sink’ part.

“You also have three certified lifeguards here.” James offered sympathetically.

Yeah, three real Adonis’ here to watch me drown.

“Nothing will happen, love.” Sirius offered in the softest tone you’ve heard him speak since you met him, apparently your trepidation made itself known on your face.

“I’ll help you get into position, okay? Lean back... atta girl, just like that.” Remus coached you as he supported your back, and one of the other men grabbed your ankles to ease them up. The hands near your feet surprised you and you breathed in a gasp, which was mistaken for anxiety.

“Hey, you’re alright, okay?” Remus said as he paused all movements, “I will not let anything happen to you.”

Jesus Christ, he was going to put you into cardiac arrest.

“Okay.” You offered instead of swearing at him and continued to lean back with his support.

Suddenly, you were suspended above the water as the hands (apparently, they were James’) let go of your ankles. Your instinct was to start kicking and tense up.

“No, you’re alright, keep your legs up and relax.” Sirius coached you from your other side.

Things you can say in a swim lesson and also in bed.

“I’ve still got you.” Remus reminded you as you tried to do what you were told.

Your legs kept wanting to sink to the bottom, but you did your best to will them upward.

“Try to take in a breath – the more air you have in your chest, the more buoyant you’ll be.” Remus told you.

You did as you were told, and your ears sunk just below the water.

“You can keep breathing, dollface.” Sirius said, and you felt your cheeks flush as you let out the breath you were apparently holding.

You listened to the sound of the water lapping against your head and the edge of the pool and timed seemed to slow.

This was actually quite nice – floating. You like floating, you decide. You’d like to do more of it; maybe this will be how you would spend your time at the beach in the Maldives and oh my god where is he going get back here you son of a bitch.

Remus’ hand began to sneak away from you, and in your panic to correct yourself without his assistance, you overcompensated and ended up below the water line.

Gentle hands grabbed your forearms and hauled you above the surface again and you made terribly embarrassing choking and gasping sounds as you wrapped your arms and legs around the being like a newborn koala bear.

“Easy, easy. Hey, you’re okay! You almost had it! You did so well, look at you.” James said brightly as he pushed some of your wet hair away from your face with careful fingers, apparently unaffected by your attaching yourself to him.

Between the men, their flustering you, and the water up your nose – you decided you’ll just spend your vacation at the beach side bar.

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