Tumgik
#H x 3 ¼
busaccagallery · 1 year
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kisses4kaia · 14 days
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im begging you on my knees sobbinggg to write pussy drunk billy that loses control at the mere smell or touch of us  😩😩
ur so real for this . billy the mutha fuckkin kid the man u are — also ur patience is so appreciated baby💕
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“please, darlin’. i’ll be fast, i promise, i just—i just need you so bad right now. please, angel, just this once?” billy breathes against your neck in between kisses. “billy…” you sighed out, a near groan as you tried to press some distance between the two of you. he doesn’t even regard your attempt before he’s pushing you back onto the grimy bathroom wall.
“i have to get back,” you tried to reason, but as billy’s calloused hands ran up your thighs to hike up your little linen dress, you couldn’t really remember what it was you needed to get back to. “drivin’ me crazy out there, don’t you know? with that way you touch my hair, or the way you hook your fingers through my belt loops. goin’ fuckin’ insane, ‘cause of you,” his hands make quick work of his belt and buttons and zipper as you subconsciously pull your own panties to the side.
he bites his lower lip to contain a smile at your needy state; knowing you longed for him making him want you that much more.
“i’ll be quick, baby.” he promised, spitting in his hand and stroking himself gently before letting his cock slip past your slick folds and inside of you.
there’s an apprehension that is left unspoken as you and billy hasten to your climaxes, his hand dropping from your hip to circle his roughened thumb pad against your puffy clit as his thrusts sped up and fell desperate to lust. “come on now, you gonna come for me or what? i wanna feel you, angel. go on, then. come for me, darlin’,” his gruff voice reverberated against all five of your senses, sending you over the edge with a choked gasp, a long since held in moan breaking through. “shh, baby. they’ll hear you all the way in montreal, you know that,” he said, smirking through his words, pleased at the effect he has on you.
it only took a few more thrusts before he was groaning and gasping and whimpering in your ear, head pressed to the crook of your neck. he pulled out and painted white ribbons over your stomach, dress pulled up and exposing your lower abs.
“so good for me. always such a fuckin’ doll. ‘ll keep you forever, what do you think about that?” your mind is barely unclouding as you nod, murmuring a little ‘uh huh’, pulling billy in for one last kiss before he goes away. grabbing the bandana out of his back denim pocket, he cleans the mess off of you and leaves with a kiss to your cheek, and a little, frisky, gentle, smack to your ass.
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mairalynn416 · 7 months
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I am such a whore for gale of water deep.
I want to fuck that man on mystra's alter in baldurs gate.
I want to insist that he talk about the book he's reading as I give him head and stop every time he stops talking.
I want to lick down the length of his chest, leave hickeys where everyone can see.
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oathkeeper-of-tarth · 1 month
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Isobel Thorm, icon, godsend, hero, absolute titan, determined to carry the hurt/comfort genre on her STR 12 shoulders. I adore her.
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Of course, the catch is that she herself has also Been Through The Horrors but chooses not to acknowledge this in favour of adamantly insisting on being the caretaker (which she is obviously very good at, like... professionally, as a cleric and healer).
And even more than that, caretaker to a person who is a big nigh-unkillable (but very significantly not, as Isobel herself points out, unharmable!) radiant wall of muscle and holy fury so used to being a champion and protector herself, extremely keen to dismiss her own issues as a bit of "paladin's fatigue" and "flights of fancy" and who is on so many levels, some very fundamental to her being, tied into being A Sword.
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I guess my point is... fic writer comrades-in-arms, this is what we call a goldmine.
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mardyart · 6 months
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some baldur’s gate babes and my tav
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gotchibam · 8 months
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Commissioned piece for AuryBorealis!
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veinsfullofstars · 25 days
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"Still trying to intimidate me? Cute."
(ID: Kirby series fanart of Meta Knight and Galacta Knight based off of a couple dynamics template by @/ReddsMess on Twitter. Original template and source below the cut, as well as a HAL language variant. Top-left panel - high-angle shot of MK lit from above, standing firm and glaring up through his mask, his wings curled out and breaching the panel in places, subtitled "Well well..." Top-right panel - low-angle shot of GK lit from below, looming in the air and leering down through his mask, his wings curled out and his hands spread wide in challenge, both of which breach the panel in places, subtitled "Look who came to see me..." Bottom panel - MK & GK stand next to each other, the latter leaning towards the former and gently caressing the side of his mask with the back of one hand, grinning smugly and wrapping a wing around the knight, subtitled "My Knightmare." MK stands stiffly with his fists clenched at his sides, blushing vividly and glaring away from the warrior. A little flurry of white hearts emanate from GK, while one small one hovers above MK. END ID.)
Started 03/30/24, finished 04/02/24.
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HAL language variant:
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Original by ReddsMess (template link) NOTE: The artist has marked 16-18+ in their bio, so browse at your own risk!
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yashley · 1 year
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fearne: *is an Animal* imogen: *Gives Scritches*
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audreyscribes · 3 months
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Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:
🌊 POSEIDON: God of the Sea, Storms & Earthquakes, Droughts, Floods, Horses🔱
author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]
When you get claimed, it’s like a tsunami, a storm, and earthquake hit all at once; metaphorically and physically speaking. 
Everyone stares at you in disbelief, awe, and fear. 
You’re confused as you look at everyone’s reactions, then it starts to be unnerving. You’re even more confused when the people are parted, willingly and unwillingly when a boy with sea-foam green eyes pushes forward and stares at you with a gaped look. You stare at him back and notice the storm of emotions that passes through his eyes: shock, disbelief, joy, relief, fear, and anger. 
The boy finally reaches over to you and stands before you. You can feel the power from him, but you also feel a sense of ease. 
“Hi, my name is Percy Jackson….and I’m the son of Poseidon…your half-brother.”
You’re not taken to your cabin but instead, Percy leads you to the Big House, following Chiron, with a few individuals parting from the mass of people following behind you. When people whisper, you see Percy give them a look that made them freeze. 
Percy sticks by your side as you all gather around the table tennis with the other individuals, before you’re bombed with information about the Big Three, the oath they had taken, how it was abolished by yours truly, and how they didn’t expect to see another child of Poseidon; especially this ‘soon’. 
When you leave with all that information to process, Percy stands by your side and you two just stare out at Camp Half-blood, in awkward silence. You’re still reeling from the events that followed but there’s only so much awkward silence the two of you could take like a fish out of water. 
“So, you wanna see where the cabin is?” starts Percy, shrugging as casually he could. You could only nod before Percy helps take your bag and leads you. 
When you get to the Cabin, you open it up to see the large statue of Poseidon standing before you, feeling small and overwhelmed. Then you’re hit with the size of the cabin and how empty it feels. There are three bunk beds, but judging by two of them they looked already used, with stuff above the top bunk as some sort of storage. You can clearly tell which of the bunk beds is new as it’s not as used. You know they had to bring in another bunk bed from somewhere and manage to bring it in when you were guys having a meeting. 
You’re shown the ropes and as you walk together, eat together at the dinner table, and when you go back to your cabin, it hits you how long Percy has been alone by himself. He takes you to the repaired fountain in the back and as you soak your feet, he tells you everything and you tell him your story in between sharing the bag of blue candy. 
As you go to lie in bed, then it hits you that despite being alone and with the occasional visit from Tyson, you notice that while the cabin isn’t that occupied, you notice the life that’s been put into it. The decorations, the minotaur horn on the wall-
Percy acts like a big, supportive big brother that is there to catch you. He takes you to the water and the pegasus stall, the former where if you want to be alone and the pegasus stall to have them listen to you. He teaches you what he learned by himself and guides you in parts he wished he had someone there for. And you’re there to make him remember that he isn’t alone and he is loved. 
When you get claimed, its as if a tsunami, a storm, and an earthquake had happened all at once, and you were the epicenter. Everyone looked absolutely shaken and were gaping at you.
Then you see a boy with sea green eyes and when you two make eye contact, it’s as if you were both lost at sea and found each other in the giant ocean. You saw his face go through many emotions before it settled into a smile, before he stepped up towards you. 
“Hi, my name is Percy Jackson. I’m the son of Poseidon…and I guess you’re my sibling.”
You stare at him before the whispers of everyone around you become harder to ignore. Percy looks at them, some silencing themselves as his eyes land upon them before he sighs, rubs the back of his neck before gently hovering his hand behind your back. 
“Come on, let’s go talk in somewhere private” he coaxed softly. You nodded and followed his soft guide. You get a rundown of what has happened, the Big 3 and their oath, and how it was absolved by Percy. Given the fact the time frame, no one had expected another child of the Big Three to appear that soon. Though they were pretty sure Zeus already had a few and it was only a matter of them before they made landfall in droves. 
Everything was utterly overwhelming and you were trying to process it all, not just the information but also your emotions. The storm within you was building and you weren’t sure if you could contain it. 
Then you found yourself at the beach and then everything became calmer as you listened to the sound of the water overlapping each other. You dug your toes deeper into the sand and then you became more aware of the presence by your side. 
You looked over at Percy who looked towards the water, sitting casually on the washed up log that you were on, a bag of blue candy dangling in his hand. 
Without looking at you, he held out the bag of blue candy towards you in a silent gesture. You took one and inspected it, wondering why he had a bag of just blue candy.
“Blue’s my favourite colour,” started Percy. “When someone told my mom that there was no such thing as blue food or drink, she went out of her way to prove him wrong. My mom would always make blue cookies and cake, buy me blue candy. I have a feeling my mom also liked blue because it reminded her of Poseidon, but it also reminded her of me. And now when I eat blue food, I’m reminded of my mom and also our dad in a way.”
You listened as the blue candy sat on your tongue. You weren’t sure if it was the candy itself or what Percy said, but as the candy dissolved in your mouth, you swore it made you feel better. 
“I get everything is pretty overwhelming. It was like that for me and trust me, it was a lot…but you’re not alone like I was. I’ll do my best to be there for you, not as a child of Poseidon but also your brother. So if you feel a bit too alone, remember I’m here.”
You shifted your feet in nervousness. “It sort of feels like I have to fill in your shoes and I don’t think I can” you admitted. 
Percy put a hand on your shoulder, “And I don’t want you to. Not because of pride or anything, but it was tough. There was a lot of pressure and a lot on the line. I gained so much glory and so much more, but I could’ve lost it all. Hopefully you won’t have to go through like I did…but if you do, I’ll be by your side.”
“Thanks Percy…I’ll try.”
He smiled, “That’s all I ask” he said before he looked back at the water for a moment. He stood up and gestured to you, “Come on, let me show you the places only a child of Poseidon can go.”
You grinned before yelling, “I’ll race you!”
“You’re on!” laughed Percy before the two of you sprinted down the sand and jumped into the water, laughing in your private domain. As you descended into the water, bubbles reached up and popped in on your face, soft like a kiss to your hairline. 
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localfantom · 8 months
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I like them just a normal amount… Just a normal amount…
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rottingrobin · 3 months
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hey.... where my yukaham shippers at....
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lorelune · 11 months
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six drinks, first time
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|| jing yuan x f! reader || E/18+ || drunk reader + adoring jin yuan + kink reveal || wc: 2.5k  || ao3 ||
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Jing Yuan covets the fact he knows you better than anyone else. It’s unfortunate for him that plum wine makes you sweeter and more honest, revealing a piece of yourself he hasn’t considered. 
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minors & ageless blogs dni
a/n: jing yuan has rotted my brain i need him so badly fr fr :salute: enjoy!!
CWs: drunk reader, engaged jing yuan and reader, possessive jing yuan, corruption kink, virginity kink, reader visibly blushes, light exhibitionism/threat of exhibitionism
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It's rare for Jing Yuan to see you this way. So carefree, so weightless, so unabashed, despite the many bodies around you and looks that your display is inevitably drawing. Jing Yuan is too old to care for decorum in this setting, it's a party after all. Though he'll only nurse a drink or two during the evening, lest lose himself, he appreciates seeing his compatriots enjoy themselves.
He wasn't expecting you to partake as much as you have, though.
Jing Yuan has been counting your drinks— five, sipping on a sixth (some plum wine that he’s sure has a taste that will linger on your lips. He wants nothing more than to find out himself). You'll undoubtedly have a headache in the morning. He's less concerned about that (he'll treat you well, he always does, the lovesick fool he is). You rarely drink so much, usually just stealing sips from his glass and remaining sober by his side, so it's quite the treat for him to see you lose yourself in this way.
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You cling to his arm, cheek pressed into his shoulder as you listen to Fu Xuan drone about a trivial bit of gossip. Jing Yuan entertains her, and you watch them both, entranced. Lips parted and a bit chapped, cheeks flushed, with a thigh thrown over his own. You're rarely so affectionate with him in public, or anywhere other than your home. You insist upon decorum, but after your third drink, it's been thrown out the window. You're practically in his lap.
At the thought, Jing Yuan tests his luck. It takes no effort for him to wrangle you over his thighs, and you throw an arm around his neck, pressing the other over his chest. You bear your weight into him. It's horribly precious of you.
Though your relationship isn't a secret, it's something you don't answer common questions about. Even if Tingyun tries to twist your arm for information on the general, you always skillfully decline (or, tell her off with equally flowery words. It's impressive to watch considering he's well aware of the other contexts you use such vocabulary and tone in— in war rooms at the side of long tables, or while sitting over his hips, smearing spit across his lips.)
You gasp at something Fu Xuan says. Jing Yuan squeezes around your hip. When your flesh gives way under his grip, Jing Yuan sees stars. It's so rare he gets to indulge in this way. He'll milk it for all its worth.
You're unaware of it— the gazes that you draw, from colleagues, foes, strangers. Jing Yuan is terribly attuned to it. You'd probably be alarmed if you knew the extent to which Jing Yuan is acutely aware of each wayward glance or longing look you receive. You have admirers. Your lack of public acknowledgment of your relationship (besides the engagement rings you both wear. Identical, cast in the same metal, sharing halves of the same stone) allows room for it.
Jing Yuan never lets them get far. For how little you both say of it, he isn't shy about standing closer to you than anyone else. Inviting you to the seat of divine foresight, whenever he bothers to actually be there. He asks for you on daily walks and you're the only other person his finches will eat from the hand of.
If an admirer of yours doesn't get the message after such clear signals, Jing Yuan takes a more direct approach. A hand on the small of your back, leveling you a gaze that screams 'I will be splitting you open on my cock the first moment you allow me' in an open market for all to see, or making eye contact with said suitor and provide them a particular hardened, venomous look that Jing Yuan's only been able to forge through time and his feelings for you.
He'd never considered himself a possessive man before you.
Look at what you've done to him, made him selfish and desperate at your hand.
Jing Yuan has little to lose. You've finished your sixth drink. He kisses your jaw— just a drag of the lips over the curve of it. He feels you give a full-bodied shudder, balling up his robe in your fist.
He’d never considered himself needy either, but with you, he is. He hides it well. He doesn't even think you know, though you could see it if you looked hard enough.
"Dearest," he speaks against your ear, only for you to hear. "May I take you home?"
You turn to pout at him. He's patient, horribly, perhaps to a detriment at times— but you're testing him.
"Noooo, not yet!" You whine. "The party's so nice and Fu Xuan's fun when she's tipsy."
You hide a giggle behind your palm, and you don't see the way Fu Xuan bristles behind you.
"Can I convince you?" Jing Yuan asks you. He squeezes your inner thigh. He'd put his hand to your skin directly if he could, if he didn't value your modesty—
(Though, perhaps he's been entertaining the thought of having you in a courtyard for the past half hour. Who is to say.)
You hum, thoughtful, "You will have to be very persuasive. I'm enjoying myself thoroughly."
"Noted. You know I can be."
"Hmmm... I'm listening."
Jing Yuan hums, "Such things would be better discussed in private. Take a walk with me?"
You frown, "I don't want to get up."
"I'll carry you."
"You wouldn't—" you flush at that. Jing Yuan cups your face so he can feel your cheeks heat.
"I would. Happily, in fact."
You shouldn't be surprised when he rises with you in his arms, only depositing you back to the ground when you squeal and squirm. You still grab his hand as you depart from the crowded party room. Jing Yuan feels each gaze that follows them. He rubs over the ring on your left hand.
Jing Yuan takes you to an overlook. The city is deserted so late. There's no need for his knights to be stationed so close to the celebration, considering the amount of soldiers teeming just inside.
He crowds you against the railing, slowly, leveraging you with a hand on your side. He'd never let you fall, especially when you sway with the drinks you've had.
"You've been so sweet this evening." Jing Yuan noses down the line of your throat.
"Am I not sweet every evening?"
"You are, of course." Jing Yuan could spend days, months— years even, telling you in all the ways. He's long since become accustomed to the unique heartache you give him— like a wound that never heals or a bruise that will never yellow. The only way to soothe it is with your words, your touch, your presence in his bed and by his side— and wrapped around his arm when you so cutely drink yourself into a stupor. "It's rare that I get to see you partaking in the way you have. It's lovely to see you enjoy yourself. I simply wish to enjoy you myself. If you don't wish to return all the way home, I happened to see a few spare rooms—"
"Jing Yuan!" You tug at his hair. He suppresses a moan. "That would be— indecent. And unbecoming of someone of your rank."
"My rank is unmoving and unchanging, regardless of any sweet sounds I could draw from you. But, I suppose, you are quite the shy thing, aren't you—?"
"You're awful." You say with no bite. You kiss him stupid and Jing Yuan feels stupid. He never feels undone or outwitted, but you silence him so easily. A few touches and he's nothing. "Scoundrel."
"And, you love me for it."
"Well, yes, of course." You assure him and nip at his bottom lip. "Enough to want to marry you, in fact."
"So, you'll allow me to walk you home and keep you from work tomorrow?"
"Why would you keep me from work?"
"I don't expect you to be walking with any ease when I’m finished with you." Jing Yuan, perhaps, desires to mark your neck as well. It's a rare thing, and when he does, he revels in the way you futz with your collar all day to try and hide them. He thinks he'll give you one that you can't hide, right over your pulse point.
"How do I know you're not just trying to get out of those meetings that are on the books for tomorrow morning?" You bat at his chest, a smile burgeoning on your lips. He's got you.
"I only wish to spend the rest of the evening pleasuring you." He lilts his voice and squeezes lower on your hips. "Does my lover not trust me?"
You bury your face in his chest and shudder. He chuckles, running a palm over your hair, cupping the back of your neck. So easily undone, choice words and you unravel.
"You make me think all these weird things."
"Weird how?" He asks, already cajoling you into linking arms, matching your stride.
"I— I've been having this thought and I can't get it out of my head." You avoid looking at him and Jing Yuan’s interest is piqued. 
"Will you share with me?"
"It's... embarrassing. And lewd."
"Dear," he presses your ring into your finger. "I have promised myself to you in all ways. If it's a desire you have, I want nothing more than to hear and indulge it."
"You're spoiling me."
"You're avoiding telling me what has plagued you so." Jing Yuan reminds you.
You pause and chew on your words.
Jing Yuan is... curious. Your desires are not a mystery to him. You've been forthright with your wants, and he has in turn, and very little has been vetoed. If anything, you've given him much to think about. You occupy his thoughts in a way that is probably distracting, but so close to retirement— he can let himself daydream about a future where keeping you in bed and flush to him is his only job.
"It's just that—" You shift from foot to foot. You're not far from home now, and you drag your feet. "That, you know? We'll have forever, and it makes me think about all the stuff from before that."
He hums. You've revealed fragments to him, unpleasant bits of the past you've moved beyond. 
"And like... What if— Just. Maybe. I think about it sometimes." You kick the metal and stone at your feet. "I think about you being my first. I'm gonna be with you forever, you know? I wish you could just unmake me, and take me for the first time."
Jing Yuan stalls. Almost stumbles. He catches himself by the barest fringes of his finesse because Aeons and stars, what the fuck did you just say—?
(He considers himself an expert in you. He knows your mood, the way your skin changes with the artificial weather and your favorite fruits, and how you best like them cut. He knows the ways to curl his fingers inside you to bring you climax within just moments or hours, if he so deigns.)
(Yet, he never knew this desire. Never considered it. Foresight means nothing when you obscure his vision in the same way a comet's tail bursts as it hits solid atmosphere— blinding and forged with wishes.)
"Jing Yuan? Are you okay?" You ask him, voice gone soft and timid. "Was that... bad?"
"No." Jing Yuan steels himself. He has much to consider. He must act. He scoops you into his arms and throws you over his shoulder.
"Hey!" You let out a little ‘oof’ and pound on his back. "What's this for? If you're upset with me, just say it."
"You didn't upset me at all." He runs a hand over the back of your thighs, his palm coming to rest over your ass. "The opposite, actually overjoyed. You've been so gracious, I couldn't possibly let you tire yourself out with a walk home, could I?"
He squeezes a cheek and feels his cock twitch at the squeak you let out.
He's going to ruin you, he decides. Perhaps not now, but another night. If you wish him to rewrite a poor memory, your first, he will. He wants you dead sober for it.
"... Why do I feel like you're thinking really hard?" you slap his ass and he snorts. "You're scheming. I can tell."
"Only planning, dear. I promise it's in your best interest."
It's all he thinks about as he sets you on the threshold of your shared home. He feeds you rice with egg and tuskpir belly and it’s all he fucking thinks about. He fucks you stupid and drooly and full into the sheets, and it consumes him.
He intertwines his fingers with yours as he fucks into you from behind. His cock hasn't even been this hard, he thinks, it almost hurts. You make the sweetest sounds below him, sticky tears clumping your lashes as you squeeze his hand back. Every thrust pushes you into the mattress. He's blowing out your back, surely. He knows the ache you'll have in the morning and he'll chase it away.
He presses his chest to your back, licking up your neck and stilling the cant of his hips. You breathe in time.
"I'll take you like it's your first time— I'd love nothing more." He licks over a high patch of skin on your neck. "We can even play pretend, if you'd like. Would you like to be a blushing virgin who's never taken cock before?"
You laugh, tilting your head back to bonk into his, "Sounds like you'd just like to corrupt my hypothetical innocence."
"And if I did?" Jing Yuan speaks so seriously that it stills you. He thinks of every set of eyes that looked at you that evening, every ogling glance that traced a figure that is only his. He bites down into the flesh of your neck, sucking a bruise so dark it'll last for days. "If I want to undo you and be the only one who's ever fucked you, seen you like this, would I be wrong to? I think that you may even enjoy that."
You let out a shaking breath. Your cunt squeezes like a vice around his cock and he groans into the mark he's branded on you.
"You're going to ruin me." You smother your voice into the sheets as he picks up his pace. The slap of skin is wet, you're drenched, it's filthy and Jing Yuan never wants it to end. Perhaps he should rethink his views on immortality.
"I am." He will. It's a promise, a vow that's sealed with the faltering rhythm of his hips and the way he spills inside of you. He eats himself out of your cunt, until you're cumming on his tongue and thrashing against the hold he keeps on your hips.
Jing Yuan feels so pleased when he finally lays down at your side after wiping you down. You doze, rolling into his warmth the moment he's under the covers.
He will ruin you. He will reshape you for him, if that's your desire.
He keeps a hand between your sticky thighs and pushes his spent that dribbles from your cunt back inside you.
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kisses4kaia · 4 months
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MORE BROTHERS BEST FRIEND BILLY THE KID I BEG OF YOU
GIBSON GIRL .ᐟ
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pairing— brothersbestfriend!william h. bonney x fem!reader
warnings— smut, forbidden relationship, p in v, oral (m and f receiving) EVERYONE IS LEGAL!!
a/n— this took an absurd amount of time sorry! she’s here now tho so plz reblog if u enjoyed! (also not a part two to the first one 🤍)
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“billy, make sure she’s safe while i’m gone, will you?” jesse asks his best friend in reference to you, his innocent, sweet, little sister. and naturally, without any hesitation, billy nods. “of course, always,”
there’s something about his tone when he says it, something that hints that his opinion of you isn’t entirely fraternal, but perhaps something more profound. jesse doesn’t catch onto that, though; never having been the brightest tool in the shed.
almost ignorantly, he just nods at billy in respectful acknowledgment, kisses you on the cheek, all before leaving the house, heading into town for whatever errands needed running, leaving you and billy alone for many unsupervised hours.
god, the tension between the pair of you was palpable—thicker than molasses and sweeter than it, too. to make matters worse for the outlaw, recently, you took up a new hobby—making billy squirm. making innuendos just barely passable as innocent banter, being on your best behavior and letting him know you were like this just for him, then going and turning it around completely, becoming a complete and total brat, not heeding to mind a single word he speaks.
and fuck, it was driving him insane. he felt so ashamed of himself on nights when all his mind could conjure up before bed was images of you—images the lord would frown upon sincerely—and end up with a cum-splotched torso and a still unsatiated cock. he hated you for it.
you, with your too-tight denim shorts in july, and with your ribbons in your pigtail plaits, and your sweet, soft, wickedly tantalizing, eyes and even more venomous voice. everything about you drove him mad, and it was the very nature of your relationship that irked him the most—because, he knew, as desperately as he wanted, he could not have you. you were his best friends little sister, for christ’s sake! it was never bound to end well for him. honestly, he felt like the fates had fucked him.
so now, when you are in your bed, reading a romance novel you’ve already read twice, something outside of your window catches your eye. billy is currently out on the farm with the horses, tending to them. not an uncommon sight, however since it’s august, and this is the midwest, and it is hot—almost naturally—billy has abandoned his linen, button-up, shirt and is wearing nothing but a dirt-stained wifebeater, his trousers, and gun holster—and of course, his cowboy hat. you bite your lip at the display, sure this must be a product of one of your many erotic dreams about your brothers best friend, but all of that is debunked when he looks up at you, his catching the way your bottom lip is folded behind your teeth and your lingering gaze is burning onto his toned arms—probably a result of workin so hard as a farmhand and cowboy his whole life, you reckon—and meeting your piercing gaze.
you decide to push yourself off of your pretty, bowed, sheets and make your way downstairs to the trouble that lies within the man you grew up right next to.
“you know, it’s rude to stare,” billy chimes while you sit on an old, rackety, rocking chair residing on the back porch of your house, watching billy on the ranch. “and you think i’m above being rude?” you cock your head slightly, almost challenging him but not quite. he rolls his eyes, obviously wanting to snap back but can’t find it in him, not when you’re looking at him like that.
soon, he’s done with the work needed to have been done (admittedly, he did make haste so as to keep you waiting on him), and he’s grabbing his shirt off the pole of the wooden fence that is caging the horses in, tying the sleeves around his waist. he doesn’t spare you a single glance as he walks into the home, but you know he’s silently beckoning you to trail after him—after all, you were only out here to ogle at him, weren’t you?
when you enter the threshold of your home, your eyes land upon billy, who is pouring himself a glass of cheap whiskey and plopping down onto your couch.
“c’mon, sit down,” billy offers, sweat on his brow as the brown liquor swirls around the crystal glass, his legs spread wide and his demeanor exuding assertiveness. “well, now don’t be silly, there’s no other seat,” you acknowledge the lack of another sofa in the cozy living room, and the one billy did sit on, was only big enough to seat one. “oh, that’s no problem, doll, just sit on my lap, hm?” he cocks his head at you, daring eyes telling you all you needed to know. your raise your eyebrows and smile. “are you sure that’s what you want me to do?” your voice is a single warning, and billy is clearly throwing all caution to the wind, because he laughs. “c’mon, baby, i’m a big boy, i know what i want,” you knew what his underlying message was and the implication urged you to begin walking towards the couch.
blue eyes bore into yours as you throw a leg on either side of his thighs, skirt splaying over the tops of your thighs. he downs all the liquor in the glass before placing it onto the small coffee table next to him, eyes never leaving yours. carefully, but not fearfully, he drags a finger from your calf all the way to your waist, before both of his large hands take a rest at your love handles. “careful, billy,” you say in a singsong voice, allowing your hips to slowly, very slowly, begin moving downwards unto billy’s crotch. your arms lazily wrap around his neck, forearms resting on his strong, broad, shoulders. he kisses his teeth, bringing his face closer to yours ever so slightly, whiskey breath fanning over your face, chest, décolletage. when his lips finally encase yours, there’s so much built-up tension flowing in the passionate manner in which he kisses you, his palms grip onto your hips possessively before pressing all over your back, grappling desperately to get his calloused hands everywhere on your body all at once. he felt like he was drowning in you, but he would never call for help, for he needed you this instant and there was nothing stopping him from having you right here, right now.
“get on your knees,” he grits through his teeth, lust seething through the low growl that is his voice. you hardly think twice before moving back onto the plywood floor, knees already taking splinters, but you didn’t care, not when billy was unbuckling his denim trousers and letting his cock spring free from the confines of his boxers.
billy revels in the wide-eyed expression on your face as you take in his size. his cock was beautiful—angry, red, and proud, tip leaking with precum, pretty veins running vertically along the length. you swallow your surprise and slowly, you wrap a soft hand around the base of his length, bringing your lips down to his tip and pressing teasing kisses on it. the man above you lets out a soft groan, relaxing his muscles and allowing a strong hand to run through your hair, not quite gathering it yet, but maintaining it out of your face.
after peppering gentle kisses all over his hard cock, you finally flatten your tongue against the underside of him, licking up to the tip. you wrap your lips around his achy head and take as much as you can of him into your mouth, warm throat tightening around him. it takes everything inside billy to not immediately start fucking your fragile face, and when your tear-pricked eyes met his darkened blue ones, he roughly pulls you off of him. he throws you onto your back on the couch, like you weigh no more than a feather, hikes up your skirt and pulls your pale, pink, cotton, panties to the side. as he begins sliding his cock between your puffy folds, his tip brushes against your sensitive bud, and you whine, needing him to quit dangling the carrot and fuck you already. at the pathetic sound, billy just coos, pressing a gentle, loving, kiss to your pouted lips, before slamming his cock into your unprepared, sopping, cunt. you cry out against his lips and as he begins rutting his hips against yours, he’s trying to find restraint. he knows you probably won’t be able to walk properly for a week if he keeps fucking you like this, but the pent up tension finally being released urges him to keep fucking you primally—and plus, you wanted this, didn’t you? with your teasing, and your fucking miniskirts, everything you did was a beg for billy to fuck you into your place, right?
even in his sex-crazed state, billy’s still a gentleman who’s concerned with your pleasure just as much as his, and uses one of the hands he had rested beside your head to draw fast circles on your clit, pulling the most melodic sounds from you. they pushed him closer and closer to the edge and before you both knew it, billy was pulling out of your cunt, making you whine at the empty feeling, stroking himself a few times before painting your abdomen in his seed.
when he came down from his high, billy dropped down to his knees before you, skipping all the teasing he wanted to do (he would, next time) and licked a fat stripe up your slit, stopping at your clit and sucking momentarily. the muscle continued to work at you, dipping and fucking into your achy hole, and within minutes, your orgasm had crashed into you like a powerful ocean tide, struck by poseidon himself. you cried out his name, explicit weaved between your moans. billy just rides you through it, strong hands holding your wildly bucking hips down as you spasmed through your release.
“good girl, such a good girl,” billy cooed, the praise making your face go warm, even after he saw the most intimate parts of you. you brush off the compliment, afraid your own voice would betray you and instead reply “i take it this won’t be the last time we do… this?” and billy just chuckles darkly, picking you up off the couch and sitting himself back down, placing you prettily on his lap. “no, sugar. after this, you’re mine. understand?”
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lumienyx · 5 months
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tfw you catch feelings for your fearless leader and need to consult your resident wizard asap, maybe it's some spell side effect that he can cure??
word for word, 100% accurate-i-swear account btw of chapter 9 of touch too much (Astarion/m!Tav)
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aflawedfashion · 16 days
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Hetty & Trevor | Ghosts 3x06
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hawkeyeslaughter · 26 days
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not to be like dramatic or anything but trapper john calling me ‘ honey ‘ to comfort me would heal every single thing wrong
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