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targaryen-dynasty · 5 months

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REWRITE THE STARS.

Aemond Targaryen x Baratheon!Reader

Aemond arrives at your betrothed‘s funeral. And after being denied your hand in marriage once, he does not come to leave without you.

WARNINGS: angst? mentions of death, mentions of war, hinting at murder, kinda dark Aemond, female reader of House Baratheon (no mentions of appearance)

WORDS: 1.5 K

NOTES: Wow, feels weird posting something without smut lmfao. But… 👀 It‘s not mentioned, but someone particular and very jealous might have killed Lord Rosby, seeing that his House had deflected to the Greens at the very beginning of the war.

The body of your betrothed had not even been lowered into the ground by the time the enormous wings of Vhagar casted a dark shadow over the castle of Rosby.

He had been drowning in his own blood after being struck in his throat by a crossbow from one of the so-called Black’s, or so you have been told, and while the image of it had been quite unsettling, the funeral itself was not too bad.

Lord Rosby was many years older than you, and you had been betrothed not long before the war started. The Lord himself had asked for your hand in marriage, and with your father still having four more daughters to spare for any kind of political alliance, he had all too eagerly agreed.

Much to the disliking of the prince, who dismounted his large beast at this very moment.

He had convinced your father to support Aegon in the war of succession by promising to marry one of his daughters. You had been standing next to your father while your sisters stood lined up for Aemond to choose, and even after stating more than once that you hadn’t been free to marry anymore, the besotted prince had just reluctantly agreed to take the hand of your older sister Floris in marriage.

Marrying a young prince of a House as noble as House Targaryen seemed far more appealing than marrying an old lord of House Rosby, and for the short time Aemond had stayed in the Round Hall of Storm’s End, it seemed you two had shared the same resentment towards the man sitting on the throne right next to you.

The envy you felt towards your sister had been eating you alive, so much that you had requested for your belongings to be moved to the castle of Rosby just so you didn’t have to endure seeing her face any longer. That your betrothed was not even there at that time just made it better.

Now your father – and possibly you as well – had to experience the consequences of his pride and stubbornness first hand, it seemed.

Upon spotting the large dragon in the far distance, a few members of House Rosby had taken their leave to go into hiding, but you and your father stood strong, despite the risk of being bathed in Vhagar’s flames sooner than later.

For your father, it might have been the belief in his allegiance to the King, but for you, it was your House’s words, ours is the fury – and your fury was solely aimed at the man responsible for your misery.

The rustling and shuffling behind you indicated that the few people, that had remained at the funeral side, bowed to the approaching prince, their mumbled courtesies not prompting you to turn around.

“Lord Borros,” his voice was cold and calculated, dragging a shiver down your spine. “I assume you know what I came here for.”

Your father sighed, barely audible to anyone other than you, but even then you refused to acknowledge what was happening behind your back. It was not your place to speak, as you knew you had little say in the matter.

The steps of Aemond coming closer could be heard, his presence suffocating. "‘Tis clear that she is not to wed Lord Rosby anymore. He was slain in battle, and his death has rendered the marriage pact void,” he stated the obvious, not mincing any words. “I desire to take her hand in marriage now.”

“Lord Rosby is but a day cold in the ground. It is hardly fitting of us to discuss marriage before he is even laid to rest,” your father scoffed, the sharp edge to his voice causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand. “Besides, I have already given you the hand of one of my other daughters, Prince Aemond. Your House might do as it sees fit, but mine will not, and one wife is more than enough.”

At his bold statement, your body went rigid, more so as you merely heard Aemond humming in return.

After that, a short silence descended upon the courtyard.

“Do not allow your foolish pride to cloud your judgment, Lord Borros.” You raised a brow at that, curious to find out what direction this encounter was meant to take. “You will not gain anything by denying it.”

Not watching the moment the knights lowered your betrothed’s body into his final resting place, you turned around. Your eyes drifted from the ground up to the prince standing not too far away, his lips curled, and a steely stare solely focused on your father.

“Your other daughter is of no interest to me.” His face was unmoving, and his voice as sharp as a steel dagger. “I have made clear what I wanted when I first set foot in your halls, and now, I have come to take it.”

When Aemond turned his focus on you, you could feel his penetrating gaze weight over you, the intensity of his good eye being enough to make you shiver. Yet, there was something about him that lured you in, a pull that was impossible to resist. With the way his lips pulled into a smug smirk, you knew he had noticed the turmoil raging within you.

Aemond jutted his chin forward, addressing your father while looking at you. “I will take her with me with or without your blessing.” The cold determination with which he spoke had your blood running cold. “You may not have the power to deny me the chance to wed her, Lord Borros, but ‘tis your choice whether you allow it to happen in your halls.”

Gathering your thoughts, you raised a hand to stop your father from speaking even before he had opened his mouth, yet you averted your gaze down to the ground, not able to meet either of their gazes. “The war has already been harsh for the Stormlands and the entire Realm, father. I have seen men return, bearing corpses of husbands and sons,” you said, keeping your focus on the ground beneath your feet with your voice unusually stern. “If this is the only way to bring peace to our people, then so be it.”

You glanced at your father, and the scowl on his face was almost enough to make you retreat.

Ours is the fury, you remembered.

“The Lord Paramour of the Stormlands does not bend to the whims of some Targaryen–”

“Enough, father,” you interrupted him, your voice stern once more. “The Stormlands have been bleed dry, peace is what matters. If my hand is what Prince Aemond desires, he shall have it.”

Your father grunted in disbelief, not expecting you to speak against him and surrender so easily.

Aemond’s eye drank you in once more, and the smug smirk his lips had held before had returned, adorning his chiseled features. “Very well,” the Prince Regent declared, moving toward you with a hand outstretched. He intended for you to place yours in it, which you did after a second of hesitating.

Before he led you towards the beast waiting outside the castle’s walls, Aemond turned to look at your father one last time, the smugness fully taking over his stance and demeanor. “I suggest you start preparing for the wedding, my lord, that is, if you wish to retain the title you currently hold.”

The threat hung in the air, gagging you and making it impossible for you to breathe. You did not meet your father‘s eyes, for you were certain the disappointment flashing in them would burden you even more.

Silence surrounded you two on the walk towards his dragon, safe for the ‘you chose wisely,’ he had mumbled as you passed through the castle’s gates. These three words had your eyes widening, regarding the prince carefully.

There was a strange lightness in your stomach as you approached the looming presence of the prince‘s beast, happy and afraid for what was to come at the same time. Were you meant to follow the same tragic path other women that had married a Targaryen prince had taken? Or would your future look different?

An unfamiliar heat emanated from the dragon the closer you got, pulling you out of your thoughts. There was little time for you to adjust to its presence before your now betrothed urged you to climb the ropes leading towards the saddle on its back.

“I will be right behind you,“ he said, a poor attempt to calm your fluttering nerves.

With a bow of your head, you hesitantly reached for the thick ropes and started climbing the beast, the act itself proving to be a great challenge.

Aemond strapped you to the saddle, sitting behind you to keep you steady and supported while the dragon moved to ascend into the sky for your flight to King's Landing.

And with one look over your shoulder, you saw the castle of Rosby and its village disappear in the far distance.

You had yet to find out if you had made the right decision or not.

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dungeonpuppykai · 24 days

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|| Triumph Of The Beast ||

Description: Captain Syverson learnt that the only way to have her was to ask her hand in marriage. So he did just that. And she was all his now, both to hold and to possess.

Pairing: Soft-Dark!Captain Syverson | Sheikha!Reader.

Disclaimer: I (sadly) do not own Captain Syverson. This is a mature story with dark undertones so kindly browse at your own discretion. Please note that this piece is only a work of fiction that in no way aims to reinforce or propose any stereotypes to any ethnicity or race. Minors do not interact.

Warning(s): Soft-Dark!Syverson, he is lowkey messed up, smut with plot (I am sorry), possessive behavior, his obsession with her chastity, naive!reader, size kink, biting (it's Henry and his canines ffs), boob play, manhandling, power imbalance, arranged marriage, fingering, handjob, dirty talk, m!dom, f!sub, he's a man, misogyny, age gap (reader is 20's, Sy is early 40's fight me), he's lowkey intimidating, slight spanking, allusion to bondage, manipulation, slow burn-ish, maybe more dialogue than necessary, p-in-v penetration, corruption kink, no use of 'Y/n'.

Note: Her father is not the mean Sheikh from the movie lmfao. Reader doesn't even have to be Iraqi, just Eastern that you can TOTALLY imagine yourself as because it's a frickin' story for God's sake! Ps, This blocked me so hard mid-write I nearly abandoned it lmfao, I need a break!

Captain Syverson had always thought the notion of the first touch buzz to be foolish. To quote him in his own words, the electric touch that people claimed their beloved aroused within them was nothing more than a steaming pile of horseshit.

Until now.

As his thick and coarse battle hardened hands cupped the side of the tender face of his dear wife, the Captain's thumb darted out to quickly glide across the perfect arch of her cheekbone before it moved down to the bow of her lips, his body combusting into a thousand flames of raw desire.

Her skin was so tender he feared it may come off if he pressed on it too hard. The structure of her body that adorned her traditional wedding attire seemed so fragile in this moment next to him and in his big old bed that the thought of ever manhandling a thing as delicate as her terrified him. The contrast of her usually confident and intelligent countenance was striking in quality to the humility with which she now offered her submission to him.

His suspicions against his body and strength increased by the passing minute; he felt petrified to even breathe too easily near her. The fear that it may damage her in some way haunted him and filled his lungs with dread. It was not that she was the most petite thing that he had ever seen or she held resemblance to an adolescent in terms of size or any of that weird shit, no.

It was instead the way in which her head bowed in just the perfect way so it indicated respect and submission; not so high that it would seem that she was trying to deny him his station but not so low that it became off-putting. It was an acknowledgement to his power in their dynamic; an agreement of a lifetime.

The man could swear he was going crazy.

There was simply no way he was going to make it through the night with his sanity intact.

It was just the effect she had on him.

If there was anyone to blame it was her.

Because even though he wanted to hide this girl so safely in his arms for the rest of his days that not even a harsh breeze would be allowed to touch her, the erratic way in which his boiling blood sizzled its way through his veins, The Captain wanted nothing more than to just turn her around, press her breathtaking face into the mattress and take her over and over until she was swell with his litter.

Or press his bigger body against hers and take her deep and raw until her mind gave up on consciousness

Perhaps place her between his own legs and feel her mouth around him until his seed spilled from her nose.

Maybe make her mount him and slap her ass that he just knew would be perfect over and over to keep her going even when she didn't want to.

The possibilities were endless from where Syverson was standing.

And he was determined to try his hand at all of them, and more.

His eyebrows furrowed just a little when she awkwardly pecked his lips for the fifth time in a straight row and refused to give him more, cringing away when he attempted to deepen the kiss. The girl that giggled and covered her mouth on which her red lipstick had already smudged was a dead leaf echo of the confident and liberal sheikha -prized daughter of the sheikh supreme- that critically watched the foreign Captain everytime he was around with her bright and vigilant brown eyes so full of scrutiny that it made him, a grown man, blush. It wasn't his fault, really. Her eyes had the most attractive gleam of intelligence to them and the black khol that lined them only accentuated their beauty more.

She had always been so elegant Syverson knew he was a goner the first time his eyes had been granted the pleasure of looking at her. Sat aside her father basking in her confidence, silk scarf draped around her head and body in the most perfect way, a form he could only describe as agreeable always clad in decent clothes, fingers adorning rings with colorful stones and modesty dripping off of every single mannerism of hers.

How could a man not look twice?

And then not consider looking away utterly blasphemous on account of being unappreciative of such godly beauty?

"I- I do not know how to…" Her accent turned his gears just right. "K- Kiss, Captain" oh.

Of course.

Blood rushed to his cock that hadn't throbbed like this in a long time. That was, if it ever had.

And then his sweet, chaste wife just had to call him Captain.

Fuck.

He was going to tear her apart.

And she had no idea.

The obedient daughter, who was never afraid to voice her thoughts and outsmart every man who dared stand against her with inadequate knowledge of the debate at hand, had happily bowed down to her father's wish that she marry the charming and noble Captain -to them a warrior who was not afraid to fight for his country; a man truly admirable- after said Captain had asked for her hand in marriage when he had realized that that was the only way to have her.

Mind, body, soul… heart.

Sure, it had taken Syverson and his rather daft attempts at impressing her some quick-witted answers and astute responses by a rather critical her to realize it.

But she was his bride now.

And that was all that mattered.

"Well, ain't that just dandy?" Syverson realizes just how heavy his breathing really is when his words come out gravelly and almost forced. She is unable to hold his eyes for very long so she stares at his chest instead, a most remarkable coy smile across her lips. The fact that she looks every other man with a taught unaffected sternness but has blushed everytime their eyes have met after the wedding just drives him all the more insane.

Her dark eyebrows furrow as she lightly tilts her head to the side. He has noticed that she has some trouble understanding his dialect. So he caresses her cheek again, this time in a reassuring manner;

"I know you'll figure it out soon. You're a clever lil' thing, ain'tcha?" She looks up just long enough to nod with a meeting of their eyes.

"Yes, Captain" god, even her way of speaking has softened.

The knowledge that he was the only man in this whole wide world whom she treated like this made him want to worship her with his love and devotion in every way possible.

Because The Captain was naturally a very possessive man who did not appreciate ran through goods.

"Alright now, just trust your husband and sit back like a good lil' bride, alright?" It was taking him all of his focus to not just push her back and have his depraved ways with her all night long.

"Y- Yes, Captain."

"Atta girl," before he leaned back in and brushed his lips against hers just long enough to whisper, "now hush and don'tcha try to keep them pretty lips shut on me" he felt her going breathless against him when his mouth fit against the slot of her parted one perfectly; as though it had been created just for him.

She did her best to keep up with as much obedience as her modesty would allow her to muster but the sensation of his mouth against hers, the scratch of his coarse beard across her delicate skin, the wetness of his tongue that took its time swiping against her bottom lip and the way that he didn't have to break the kiss to know that she had extended her had in his direction to take a hold of him to deal with the intensity of it all, the sheer desperation with which he reached out his fingers and clutched hers in an affectionate way that also had a territorial tinge to it was all too much for her to handle.

An unfamiliar thrill that she had been a stranger to until this moment began to patter through her bloodstream. Her heart pounded, her sweat glands soaked, her face burnt and her stomach fluttered.

"Captain" was all she was allowed to whisper in the two second interval the man allowed them to recover their breathing.

"Well, I'll be damned, darlin'" Syverson husked through rushed kisses as he hurriedly helped her lay down with her attire still intact, both too desperate to strip her and wanting to take her as she was, for tonight she looked the most stunning he had ever seen her. "You're so dang pretty I can't even fathom stayin' off ya now that you're mine" a hush of cold breath rushed past her flush lips as her thick eyebrows drooped upwards in reaction to him dipping his face in the curve of her neck.

"I am all yours to do with whatever you please, my C- Captain" her soft hands flew to grab at his shirt as the foreign sensation of a man's body against her skin sent an electric bolt down her spine.

His body was heavy above hers as he groaned at her response and grinded his bulge against her covered sex, peppering kisses all over her skin. "God damn, baby. Your mama sure raised you up right, didn't she?" A loud squeak resonated in the air when the new husband simply could not hold back his passion anymore and bit down on the inviting flesh of her shoulder, letting out a stomach churning moan at her taste and squeezing her sides as the smell of her fragrance oils hit his nose.

"Fuck, baby" it took him all of his willpower and the promise that he could go back for more only easier to part from her. "I can't–" sitting up to kneel over her, Syverson pulled his shirt over his head before tossing it somewhere in the room. "I can't hold back no more" as he leaned back down and placed one hand beside her head to keep himself from suffocating her, the way she looked up at him with wonder, timidity, need, sent a pang of pain to his cock. "Talk to me, darlin'" he gathered her wrists in one hand before placing them above her head, now reaching for the clothed bump on her chest. "You feelin' anything?" A soundless breath left her and she shuddered in such a way that her boobs trembled feverishly.

"S- Strange… a- and… oh my God!" She had to shut her eyes and turn her head to the side when he suddenly manhandled one of her breasts out of the deep neckline of her wedding night dress. Her hands rushed to cover her chest by instinct but her husband's authoritative swat was much quicker and stronger.

Syverson chuckled at the defensive gasp she let out, a crazed darkness floating in his eyes as he pinnned her feverish hands out of his way, coarse palm now feeling up her other breast that was freed as he spoke. "Ain't no God 'round these parts tonight, baby. Just me…" His lips enveloped hers in a right and hungry kiss. "'N you" the way she nervously gulped when he pulled back to stare into her eyes only added to the fire in his body. "Say, baby" he trailed gentle kisses down her chin, along her throat and then down to the fluffy cushions of soft flesh dotted with flush, erect nipples in the middle. A surprised cry jutted out of her mouth and her fingernails tried to claw at his hand that confined them above her when he pressed one wet kiss on each nub. "Ain't this just somethin' else?"

The girl had no idea what possessed her to say what she did, but her hips moved faster than her brain could catch on and her lips worked before reticence could hinder her communication. "I- It is, Captain. T- Thank you" of course she had felt arousal before. Of course she had been wet before. Some of those times she had a certain handsome American Captain to thank for, not that she would ever willingly admit it. But she had never known how to relieve herself of it other than a cold shower.

Her mother had warned her that not every feeling that transpires in one in times of idleness should be chased and she had listened.

But this was not solitary boredom, this was not a devilish lure, her mother wasn't here and it was her wedding night with a man she was slowly becoming sure she would be able to call her dear husband one day.

If her husband was kind enough to be considerate about what made her feel what she could only identify as exciting, she deemed it a stupidity to refuse the treatment.

"Aw, baby" Syverson's hands only part from her breasts so his mouth can greedily latch onto them, his bearded lips pressing all over them before his hand nearly snatches her skirts out of his way since the layers seem to be never ending. "To think that I ain't even begun with ya and you're already thankin' me like a sweet little lady" now his mouth traveled to her stomach and the only word he had for its appearance was perfect. A shudder set in her shoulders when his beard scratched her navel before his teeth softly nibbled away on her skin.

"W- Would you like me to get up and t- take my clothes off, dear?" God damn.

He really had hit the fucking jackpot.

"Hold on now, darlin'" he husked as his fingers caressed her nubs, his hot mouth littering its kisses over her skin further down south. "I wanna take you like this first" the readied rise in the middle of her shoulder blades smoothed out and she settled back into the mattress again wordlessly. "Well now, are you gonna be good and keep them arms up high like a good lil' thing or am I gonna have to tie 'em up?" A drawn out moan sounded from deep within her throat when his chin deliberately brushed against her clothed sex, coarse fingers twirling her nipple between them.

Syverson felt an unconscious clench in the muscles of her thighs upon his words finally registering in her clouded mind. "N- No, I- I'll be good, husband. I promise."

"Atta girl" he praised in a satisfied tone before letting go of her wrists.

It was after that that his hands roamed free and wild all over her form. The Captain kissed, sucked, nibbled, pinched, groped, licked and bit all to his desire, the growing moans of his bride only encouraging him further.

"God damn, if these ain't the sweetest damn legs I've ever seen" Syverson licked away the thread of spit that previously connected his mouth to her now bruised hiphone that he had successfully marked as his territory. The fact that no man had ever seen them and the plan that he made to never let anyone do so either was making his ears hot. His sides were becoming sore with need like he was the virgin.

"And this– fuck, c'mere" he couldn't hold it back anymore. The Captain had always been an ass man and the fact that he was yet to see his wife's backside was making him mad now. Her yelp morphed into a confused giggle when he bundled her ankles in one of his rough hands, having already rid her of her panties, and easily raised both her legs up until her lower half dangling by his hold on her. "Hmmm, I just knew you had a perfect lil' rump stashed in there" his free hand felt her soft cheeks up before he traced his index finger down her crack, cursing at the way they clenched in defense. Then his depravity got the best of him and he wound his hand back and gave a handful of strong blows to her poor behind that started blushing in an instant.

"Oh– ouch!" Her next nervous giggle made him raise an eyebrow as he divided an ankle between each hand and parted her legs to look down at her.

"Think this is funny, do you?" The girl quickly stopped herself nervously. "You know who that's for?" He didn't even mind the giggles, if anything they were rather endearing to him. But the timidity in her eyes was way too sweet for him to pass up. She shook her head no. "Bad little girls who make fun of their fellas, that's who." It was the cock hardening way in which her bottom lip wobbled sensitively that dried his throat.

A young woman once so strong, all commanding and authorative now exposed in such a submissive manner and completely at his mercy.

"S- Sorry, dear" he hummed, reaching for the mound between her legs to roughly feel her pussy up in blunt gropes.

"You can consider those as payback for all them times you thought you could get slick with me in front of my boys just 'cause you were the Sheikh's daughter" her eyes widened and she blushed harder than before.

"I- I–"

"Yes, you" though Syverson's words were crisp, his kiss on her nether lips was tender and perhaps that was the sole reason why she didn't tear up from being reprimanded when she was so vulnerable and hypersensitive like this. "Thought I'd just forget all that brattin' of yours?"

She had to hurriedly sit up for that one and reach for his hands affectionately. "Oh, no" the pure care in her eyes made his melting heart feel as though it had risen into the sky. "It was only that you were not my husband back then, dear," she tried to make him understand, aware that there were cultural differences that needed overcoming, "mother said good girls owe it to their husbands to treat every other man with a serious attitude and indifference!"

She was breaking his fucking heart.

It was officially official.

Abel Ford Syverson was in love.

Soul crushing, earth shattering, sky tearing love.

With a woman who was not only intelligent and gorgeous way past his league but one that respected herself with an unwavering devotion towards her spouse.

"Well, I'll be damned!" He exclaimed with faux surprise that she did not catch up on, much to his expectation. "So that's what it was all about?" Of course he knew.

He just liked her to say it.

It boosted his depraved ego just right.

She apologetically nodded with sincerity. "I swear, my heart." The translation of the endearment caused for his blood to pump through his ears only harder.

Syverson gave her a small smile before sighing a little. "Well, you see, darlin', it did still hurt my feelings a tad" her eyebrows furrowed in regret so he added just to rub it in that much more; "got me a bit of pride to keep up, y'know?"

Now she pouted. "I am sorry, love…" Before a bulb went off in her head and she jumped a little to express her excitement, the action causing her naked boobs to jiggle. "Is there a way I can make it up to you?" There.

"Why, of course!" Fuck, he sounded more eager than a middle schooler. "You gonna have to show that you can make a good little wife" her cheeks flushed as she bit her bottom lip in embarrassment. He continued, aware she was as clueless as a virgin.

Because she was one.

Syverson loved the thought.

He wished there was a way to preserve it -her- all as it was.

"Anything you want, my dear" she replied sincerely as she earnestly pressed his hand that she held to her chest.

The man swallowed the bile that had risen in his throat as his eyes flickered down to where their fingers were intertwined; the valley of her perfect breasts.

"Good girl" his voice came out much deeper than usual. "Go on 'n' take it out, then" the bride's eyebrows raised to express her confusion as she tilted her head to the side.

His dick whimpered and spilled a thick drop.

"U- Um…"

Syverson was getting impatient. "That means my pants, darlin'." He chuckled to lighten the effect of the edge that his tone had held. "I mean, can't exactly make love to ya with 'em on, now can I?" Something pulled taught in her chest and she went to avoid his eyes out of embarrassment.

"Oh… yes" she was breathless as she reached for his fly, face angled downwards.

"Yeah…?" He drew it out on purpose teasingly, dipping his own head earthwards to try and meet her gaze cockily. "Yeah, yeah?" The man kept going unrelentlessly until she had no choice but to respond.

"Y- Yes…" Her nervous fingers slipped over the button of his pants many times but she managed to free him at last.

"Go on ahead now, sugar" he coaxed sweetly, tone in stark contrast to his intentions. "Take it out and let them pretty lil' hands get a feel" her legs instinctively tried to close due to the shame she felt but her husband's huge body hindered her attempt to somehow cover herself. "Well?"

Her eyes darted up to him from where her fingers gingerly rested against the waistband of his boxers and Syverson suspected that she was about to decline because of the way her mouth moved to let out some phantom words. But when he raised a questioning eyebrow in response, she seemed as though it had reminded her of her place against him and she quickly dipped her digits inside the undergarment to reach for his thumping cock.

The first feel of her fingertips connecting with his hard skin was… indescribable. It was as though time ceased, stilling everything else with it and he was enveloped into a cocoon of pure sensation. She was everywhere and inside. Her heat filled him to the brim. Each brush of her delicate skin against his rougher one felt like the stroke of the flesh of an outworldly nymph. Shivers of ecstacy cascaded down his lower back and he was floating already.

The girl nearly jumped out of her skin at the unfamiliar feeling, the moan that he let out along a whispered praise pulling her back in the moment and away from her recoil. The bride's mind reminded her of her duty to her husband and she used her other hand to hold his clothes away so she could uncover his impaler.

"Just like that, darlin'. Just like that" one of his hands went to tangle in her hair. "Go on and rub it for me, baby. You're doin' real good" his free hand reached for her own sex that had secreted its natural moisture in reaction to the sensations she was being subjected to. He groaned at the feeling of her warm pussy and squished his finger through her plump nether lips. "Tell me what you see" her own body was getting feverish by the second, hips and cunt trying to shrink in on themselves due to how violating his sense tingling touch was.

"I- It's…" She raked her mind for an appropriate answer. But it was all too much for her to handle; the pressure to impress her new husband, touching him the way he wanted properly, obeying him, submitting to his handling and then dealing with his intense gaze. "V- Very pretty, husband. Thank you" so she played it the safest she knew.

And the girl could swear she felt him twitch in her palm at that, a pang of pain rising in her wrist as she awkwardly pumped him in a vertical manner.

"Pretty, huh?" A cunning grin spread across his handsome features as he slipped one finger deep within her folds and being the retired playboy that he was, the Captain easily found her pure entrance. "'N' what about the size?" He could not help but moan at the feeling of her balmy walls clinging to his finger. "Ever seen anythin' like it?" Her thighs quivered as his thumb glided over her folds.

"N- No, husband" she answered timidly, afraid to bruise his pride with an inappropriate or unsatisfactory answer that may pose a threat to her chasteness.

"That's right" now he began to speed up his intrusion of her insides. "'Cause you're all mine, ain'tcha?" She quickly nodded, letting out a whine as her eyebrows furrowed at the ache his twisting of one of her nipples caused. "Now tell me," he leaned forward to reach for one of her nubs with his teeth, "did ya ever think you'd land yourself a fella with a cock this big?" He spoke through a mouthful before sinking down on her tender boobs, the tips of his sharp canines digging into the soft cushions of her flesh.

"N- No…" The girl was gasping as she struggled to keep up with his leaking and twitching cock. "T- Thank you, dear!" She added for good measure despite how overwhelmed she was becoming.

"Tell me, baby" the man loved how his naive wife's features scrunched in discomfort but she still sped up her fist that was wrapped around his cock because he prompted her to, hoisting himself further up next to capture her lips against his. "Do you think yourself lucky that you get to have this here cock all to yourself for the rest of your days?" He could not help but fuck into her hand at the sight of the spit string dangling by a corner of her bottom lip as it connected to the wad of spit that she had just released on his cock after being ordered to do so. He felt her cringe at the feeling of her fingers touching her own saliva as she spread it over his cock. But her resolve to obey him did not falter even once regardless of how shy or uneasy she felt.

And that was how Syverson knew he had found himself his perfect little homemaker.

"I- I do, husband" her voice nearly broke. "Thank you so much" the fact that all of this was visibly strange and even uncomfortable to her because she was not familiar with any of this…

The Captain could swear that alone was enough to finish him off.

She was his sacred lamb; a temple undefiled.

Nobody's leftovers; whole in every sense for the beast to take.

What could he say? Colonel Syverson's prized son always won, no matter what.

There was a brighter way of looking at his promiscuous dating history that was in stark contrast to his wife's nonexistent one; it could easily be considered as his physical sacrifice in order to realize and reach his full potential as a man for his future lady's well being as well as pleasure.

A lady that he had found at last.

"Say it" his command was heavy and the rough skin of his finger was like gravel against the buttery tissue of her slick walls. "Say that you're the luckiest lil' bride for landin' yourself the best damn dick you could have ever hoped for" she began to subconsciously move her thumb out of sync with the rest of her digits to swipe it over his tip each time her hand rose to his apex and he couldn't believe just how close he was already.

The Captain was usually a man of stamina and endurance.

But then again it was impossible for the beast to resist his tempting lamb for very long, wasn't it?

"I- I am the luckiest…" She licked her parched lips needily. "L- Little bride for l- landing myself the best d- dick…" Embarrassment burnt her cheeks but pleasing him was more important a priority to her. "T- That I could've ever hoped for…"

He deeply moaned in satisfaction. "My good girl" a quick peck was given to the tip of her nose. "Now tell me, baby. How ya feelin'?" As if on cue, she clenched around his finger with a moan.

Fuck, Syverson had never really preferred a clueless woman until now.

He could literally demand whatever he wanted from her and she would believe him out of her naivety.

His perfect pretzel Princess that he could twist into whatever shape that he pleased.

Or make her do as he desired, for that matter.

With no one, not even his wife herself, to question him or his ways.

He loved the thought.

"... S- Strange… P- Pain… but– hnnn!" Her back arched as she suddenly writhed, nearly going white at the feeling of getting her special spot getting tickled for the first time. It was an ability her husband took a lot of pride in; the renown that he had held in college for being able to find gspots with his fingers alone.

"Feels real good too, don't it?" The Captain snickered heavily as he began to rock his hips into her hand, feeling himself nearing the brink.

"Mmh!" She did her best to respond despite the sensory overload, groaning softly when he forces her band of muscles to expand further by adding another finger to her pussy and repeatedly jabbing her sensitive nerves with their blunt tips, the sound of his skin fucking in and out of her liquids getting louder by the minute. "W- Weird… but…" A drop of sweat trickled down the side of her face as she gasped, eyes widening when her spine jolted at a particular wave of pleasure. "M- More, please."

In the blink of an eye, Syverson had pushed her on her back before crawling up her body like a predator. Before her body could process his fingers leaving her into an orgasm denial, his eager cock was pushing into her. The pained moan that escaped her as her body twisted under his was muffled by his mouth clamping over hers. The Captain grunted as his cock struggled to push its way inside her virgin entrance despite the preparation that he had done. The girl's bottom lip pulled away from the rest of her mouth due to the way he bit down on it to withstand the overwhelming pleasure that sparked everywhere within him.

"Your wish is my command, my darlin' sheikha."

Syverson found himself praying for the first time to any god, deity or entity that may be listening; to freeze time right here in this very moment and never set it free again.

For he could stay like this for eternities and beyond; buried inside his dear wife and protectively enveloped in her loving arms that had never held another like she did him and never would whilst she moaned below him in a pained ecstasy, clenching and nearly knocking out as she experienced her first ever orgasm.

Reblogs and feedback are much appreciated <3

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cambion-companion · 1 year

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Drunk reader: aemond would u still love me if i were a worm 🥺👉👈

Oh ffs

yes I had to guys, I had to. I had just settled in to write some smut and then this appeared in my inbox lmfao

Tag List: @darylandbethfanforever9@fuckinglittlekitten@bored-and-nerdy@echos-muses@moni-cah@mothertower@runningmunson@gabrieletargaryen

Word count: 588

Aemond x drunk!reader | drabble | I couldn't not

"Y/N, slow down." Aemond covered your goblet with his large hand as you eagerly hoisted the pitcher of wine to pour another glass for yourself.

You pouted at your husband; half tempted to spill some wine on him anyway. "I am not drunk, Aemond."

"You sound quite defensive." He slid the goblet along the table, out of your reach. "Also, that," He gestured to the wine jug you held, "is a vase of flowers."

"Ah."

"Indeed."

You carefully placed the bouquet back, misjudging your aim, and sending the vase tumbling over the edge of the table to the ground with a clatter. Aemond tsked at you as servants hurriedly gathered to clear the mess of petals and water.

You sent him what you hoped to be a withering glare, though it probably looked more like you were about to vomit. You grabbed the actual pitcher of wine, looked longingly at your glass so far out of reach, before taking several gulps directly from the large silver flagon.

Aemond cursed, reaching for you, but not before you had made your point of hardheaded independence. Several seats down, deep in his cups, Aegon cheered you on. Aemond shot his brother a murderous look before he successfully wrested the wine jug from your drunken grasp.

You placed your head upon you hand sulkily, eyeing your husband with deep sadness.

Aemond returned your morose look with a quirked eyebrow, the corners of his curved mouth twitching.

Several moments passed, the sound of Aegon refilling his own cup mocking you.

"Aemond, if I was a worm, would you still love me?"

A heavy sigh from your husband was your only answer.

"Your wife asked you an important question, brother." Aegon tittered from where he lounged with one foot upon the tabletop. "Worms are deserving of love just as we are." He raised a toast to his own wisdom and drank.

You watched him, envious, before turning back to Aemond, your lower lip jutting out.

Aemond, for his part, looked wearily from Aegon to you. Your eyes welled with emotion. "You wouldn't, would you?" A hot tear made it's sad way down your cheek. "You'd leave me, you wouldn't love me anymore."

"Now look what you've done."

"Oh do shut up, Aegon." Aemond hissed at his brother, rising from his seat to come to your side. You were crying in earnest now, raising both arms as Aemond lifted you into his.

Walking was out of the question, so Aemond carried you bridal style to your shared chambers. Aegon's call of "Worms are people too!" Echoing along the stone corridor as he moved away.

Entering your bedroom, Aemond tossed you onto the mattress of your bed, where you bounced several times before lying still, staring with wonder at the arched ceiling.

He undressed you, unlacing your corset, removing your shoes and stockings. Once finished, Aemond laid beside you, caressing your cheek, wiping away the tear stains with his long fingers.

"If you were a worm, I would love you all the same." He intoned, his voice bemused but soft.

"Truly?" You sat up, swaying slightly as you looked at him, joy written across your features.

"Truly."

He grunted as you threw your arms wildly about his neck, kissing every part of his face you could reach. "Oh Aemond, you are the most wonderful husband!"

"I have one condition, however, if I am to love you after you transform."

You pulled back slightly, apprehension hitching your breath. "What is it?"

"You must warn me beforehand."

"I promise." You said, with utmost sincerity.

Aemond smiled, shaking his head fondly at you, before giving you a swift kiss to your forehead.

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dabislittlemouse · 2 months

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love to think of dabi as someone whos playful in a lazy way. like if youre watching a movie with him and theres popcorn being shared he just starts throwing bits of popcorn at you half halfheartedly and just saying "open your mouth, come on arent you hungry?" or if you ask him to wake you up he just starts to kinda shake you an go "babe youve been sleep for three days wake up"

WWWAHHHH HE IS LITERALLY THAT TYPE OF GUY

Him snorting as you fail to catch the popcorns with your mouth (he just has a bad aim) and then chuckling at the way you get annoyed. Him then bringing the popcorns closer to your mouth to feed you, only to pull away and eat them by himself.

I can totally see Dabi just nudging you all the time for no reason as you two are walking together or when you’re talking to someone else just to annoy you, constantly touching you and pinching your hips to see the way you jump. When you angrily turn at him he simply shrugs, a nonchalant expression on his face. If you’re short it’s certain that he will put his elbow on top of your head and just lean on you, to him it’s actually really comfortable lmfao.

I see Dabi doing that silly thing when he puts his pointy finger really close to your nose, and when he calls you, you turn around and his finger hits your nose. And it DOES HURT A LOT, but to him it’s mad funny seeing your angry reactions.

Never forget to bring your hand up in your mouth when you’re yawning. Expect him to always thrust a finger in your mouth, catching you off guard and actually make you choke. And he will always add a comment afterwards

“Choking already? C’mon baby, I thought you were used to me fucking your throa-"

“Shut up Dabi!!!”

#B’s inbox🦋#dabi #touya todoroki #mha dabi #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi x y/n #touya todoroki x reader

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alkalinefrog · 10 months

Note

Hey Alka, I had a quick question for you (whenever you have the time to answer or even if you have the time), I've been taking some storyboard classes and with my illustration background, it's been hard to really find a good shorthand for characters to really get that anatomy/gesture looking right without it being too sketchy and unreadable.

How long did it take you to find your storyboard shorthand, and what exercises would you recommend to try to find it? I'm sure it just takes time and practice, I've been doing a lot more studies and gesture drawings (currently following along all the free Glenn Vilppu videos I can find on youtube) but I wanted to ask you as well because I am in love with how fluid your anatomy is, and how clear your storyboards read. And those hands my god you're a wizard!!!

Thanks a bunch, have a wonderful day!

Heya Secret, great to hear from ya! Well, what you don’t see online is how gross the rough stage of my boards can get LMFAO. Most of the boards I post are actually overly cleaned up because I'm just doing them for fun and can afford the time! I'm not really sure how long it took to develop my shorthand, I've never really enjoyed drawing detail to begin with, so when I decided to go into boarding I kinda just leaned into it!

I’ve covered a bunch of gesture drawing exercises already if you scroll through my advice tag, but ***once you have a good foundation*** here's some stuff you can try!

First you'll want to build up an arsenal of anatomy hacks you can always fallback on, particularly for complex parts of the body. The less time you spend on details, the more time you have to focus on the overall pose and storytelling. Aim to find ways to draw with as FEW lines as possible. If I had to make a list to streamline what to practice:

Head shapes - find the most efficient way to draw the front + 3/4 + side view in as few lines as possible (the challenge is still making them look structured with dimension)

Eyes - are SO important for expressions! Unless your project has characters with dot eyes, you're going to need to find a quick way to do the circle and iris in as few lines as possible. Make sure you can convey where they're looking

Hands - fists (you'll be drawing a lot of people holding poles), open palms at various angles, foreshortened fingers pointing at viewer, fingers making grabby motions----protips: 1) half the time all you need is a vague triangle/rectangle plus thumb sticking up and that's a hand 2) if the hand is relaxed, you probably don't need to draw the knuckles. Save some time!

Feet - just learn how to make sure they look like they're standing on the ground, and do some studies of what they look like when you're running. Otherwise you can usually get away with a vague shoe or boot shape (just add toe lines if they're not wearing any)

----everything else you'll practice as you go!

Jump from SUPER rough straight into clean boards to really force yourself to be economic. I've done each of these methods for work before:

Before you start boarding with a character, sketch them a few times with the intention of simplifying their design while keeping them recognizable:

You'd be surprised how little you need to recognize a character:

Depending on the scene, you can adjust how much detail you want to include:

Stay loose/more generalized with action, especially for the "inbetweens" between key poses. Clean up enough to communicate movement and make the character recognizable.

If the character's small on screen in a wide shot, edit out most details and focus on the silhouette

Save the detail work for character acting, when you really want to be specific with their expressions and gestures.

But outside of all that, be bold and fearless!! Everyone has that stage where their boards look like spaghetti! Boarding is like handwriting; you could have really shitty chicken scratch, but if you're writing beautiful poetry, who cares!

god I love drawing hands you don’t even know thank you so much!! Good luck dude!! You’ve more than got this!!

#my art #advice #ask #secretsivekept #you got this!#sorry this took a while! my mental health was in the pits for a solid couple weeks #getting better now though!#storyboards

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grave-z-boy · 3 months

Text

Arthur Morgan x Male!Reader

A/n: Tumblr straight up deleted the original ask :/ also the ending is kinda rushed cuz Ive been working on this for too long.

Request: if ur taking requests, can i request a arthur morgan x male reader where the reader gets kidnapped by o’driscolls, gets injured a lot, and arthur comes, pissed asf, screaming, “where is he” and shit, basically rescues reader, and comforts him later after they set up camp and basically start making out which the leads to sex, but arthur is super gentle, and very careful and isn’t sure if they should because of readers injuries but they do and he’s super sweet and, making sure reader is ok and stuff. (already were in a relationship prior to kidnapping) if this is way too much i get it lmfao. i like your writing a lot!! ~anonymous

Summary: Arthur rescues reader after he's been kiddnapped

Word count: 3,442

Warning: torture, murder, reader gets shot, bruises and scars, guns in general, passing out, smut, bottom!reader, top!Arthur Morgan, hurt/comfort, short smut.

A stray bullet flew so close to your ear that you could hear it cutting the air. The oozing hole in your leg only spit out more blood as you crouched down behind a tree, your shoulder pressed hard against the bark as you tried to keep your head from spinning. You whistled for your horse, only to hear a sudden pained whiny from her somewhere across the O’Driscolls camp, you swore under your labored breath. Another bullet flew past you.

Using the tree you pushed yourself up, the old, sharp bark tearing the skin on your palms. Breathing in, you tried to block out the searing pain in your leg. It worked just enough for you to peek around the tree and aim your pistol at the O’Driscoll. Squeezing the trigger, the man fell back, you hit him square in the chest.

He wasn’t the only one though- this camp was chock-full of O’Driscolls, and they were all looking for you. You spotted another man, hunting rifle in hand, slowly creeping into the tree line, you aimed, but he was faster, shooting you in the shoulder. It hurt like hell, you yelled as you hit the ground. He crept closer- he was fast, but he wasn’t a good shot, you could tell as he nervously reloaded his gun. The shot wasn’t enough to kill you, even if you let it sit and fester. Before he could aim again you raised your pistol and shot him, once in the chest, and when he didn’t go down you shot him between the eyes.

Letting out another breath, you pushed yourself onto your knees. Only to feel warm metal against your neck, before you could even swear, you were hit with the butt end of the gun, your vision blurring to nothing in a matter of seconds.

~~~~~~~~~

“He should of been back by now..” Arthur said for about the fourth time this hour.

“Y/n’s a strong man, he’ll be fine. Probably just…camping out again.” Karen, who’d had to listen to him complain about four times this hour, muttered, her hands and mind more focused on mending a pair of Sean’s pants.

Sitting with Karen tended to comfort Arthur more than it should have, but right now her presence only made it worse. Her husband was out there with you and yet she wasn’t worried. She sat idly sewing like death couldn’t come to her man at any time. Arthur knew all too well how death could sneak up on a person. Especially you, who have had at least a dozen near-death experiences this year alone, and dozens more in the years before that, and that's with Arthur around to try and keep you breathing, he doesn't like to think about the shit you’d gotten yourself into before you met. Some of your little stories, stories you told so casually, made him sick at best and unbearable angry at most. You were everything to him and to think of what people had done to you made his blood boil beneath his skin.

“Look there, it's Sean, Y/n shouldn't be too far behind.”

Looking up, Arthur watched Sean nearly fall off his horse, leaving his lead untied, then bolting straight towards Arthur.

“They got him!” Sean shouted as he ran through camp, “Those fuckers got Y/n!”

Arthur was on his feet faster than he could process, grabbing Sean by the collar, forcing the frantic, fidgety man to stay still- at least a little so he could explain himself.

“Who has him?” he asked through clenched teeth, he knew he shouldn't be mad at Sean but he was. Whatever happened, they were supposed to be watching each other.

He felt Karen's hand on his shoulder but paid it no mind.

“We were just riding around, found some O’driscal camp out North. I swear I didn't mean to leave him, but we were surrounded and I thought he’d get out on his own-”

“You left him?!”

“I heard a horse bolt and I thought he was on it-”

“Bullshit, you're a goddamn coward, Sean-”

“Arthur!” Karen shouted from behind him.

Arthur's grip on Sean loosed enough for Karen to drag him away, muttering comforting words to him.

Arthur was out of camp in less than a minute, pushing his horse to the limit, blowing past trees, towns, and other riders until he came across your horse, standing in the middle of the road, dried blood covering its left side.

He breathed out slowly, hopping off his horse, taking slow, careful steps towards the spooked thing, hesitating for a moment before petting him.

“That's it..” he muttered, listening to the horse whiny, “I know, I know. I'll find him..”

Arthur caught a glimpse of something moving out of the corner of his eye, just beyond the tree line. He took the lead of your horse and guided him off the road, carefully watching the barely hidden man. The only thing keeping Arthur from seeing him was the shadow cast by the trees and the rapidly falling sun.

With his hand hovering over his pistol, he gave your horse one last look before a sudden shiny glint caught his attention. He didn't think, whipping his pistol from its leather holder and firing, watching the glint disappear and the shadowy figure falls back.

Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, he walked forward into the treeline, glancing down at the body, and the gun in its hand, then stepping over it.

~~~~~~~~~

Your own senseless muttering was the only thing keeping you awake, pain searing across every part of your body, blood pooling beneath you, dripping from your wounds, down to your feet, and into the waiting puddle below. The quiet dripping of your blood had become too soothing, too rhythmic- in your exhausted form it had begun lulling you to sleep.

You knew you couldn’t, you weren’t stupid enough to let that happen. You’ve seen guys twice your size with wounds yards milder than yours take little naps and never wake up. You weren’t going to risk it.

You blinked in the darkness, you’re husband will be here soon. Sean rode out like his ass was on fire, camp was only a couple of miles away, Arthur will ride in here, ready to blow the whole damn camp- and every O’Driscoll he sees- sky high. You laughed at the thought, wincing when the slight move aggravated every open wound, as well as the robe burns around your wrist.

The door behind you slammed open, the pitch-black room was suddenly flooded with the warm, mid-day sunlight.

Heavy footsteps thudded behind you, getting louder and louder as they came towards you. Without warning, your hair is pulled back, your scalp flared with pain, but subsides quickly. You locked eyes with the man, tall and pale, yet so strong, as you had learned over the past few hours.

“How many times do I have to tell you to shut up?” he growled, a forced glare on his face.

You opened your mouth to respond, something hurtful and defiant, just as all of your other words had been. But you couldn’t, your throat was dry, and the bruise on your cheek was sweltering. So you just stared at the man.

There was a sudden thud from outside, then another, and another.

You blinked hard, the tall man let go of you, hand on his holster, creeping towards the door. He peaked around the door, glanced at you with that same forced glare, then back out the door. When breathed in deeply, then jumped into the doorway, whipping his gun out as fast as he could. It was in his hand maybe half a second before he was shot at least four times, falling back when the first two hit him square in the face, the other two must have just been for fun, once in the neck, then in the chest.

Unnecessary, rageful- more thuds came from outside, shouting, screaming, gunshot. You closed your eyes, letting your head hang low, finally relaxing your strained neck. You were being rescued.

~~~~~~~~~

The O’Driscoll camp wasn't hard to find, from afar, it looked normal, a couple of guys sat in an unhorsed wagon, drinking, and laughing, a couple more were cooking around a fire. Two were standing guard outside the door of a shack, the only permanent building in the camp, all holding guns. Every last member of the O’Driscoll camp.

Arthur breathed out, he wanted to think this out, he wanted to be reasonable, he wanted to sneak you out the back, a quiet escape. But it was too peaceful here, they were having too nice of a day and you were somewhere, hurt- or…worse- and they didn't care or better yet they were happy about it. About your pain.

Arthur checked his gun, then his knife, it's all he needed.

Then, he charged.

The first man to notice him didn't even get to get a word out before being met with a bullet, the next four followed the same fate. The last man from around the fire made a perfect hostage. Young, the whole crew jumped when he was grabbed. Arthur held a gun to his head, one arm around his throat, glaring at the others as they closed in around him.

“Let ‘im go!” one of the men shouted, gun trained on Arthur.

He wouldn't shoot, it was too close of a shot.

“I'm only gonna ask once,” Arthur yelled, the man shrunk away from him, “Where is y/n!”

Silence.

Arthur pulled the hammer of his gun back.

“We don't know no ‘y/n’, whoever the hell he is, he ain't here!” the same man as before shouted.

Arthur blinked, then pulled the trigger. The man hung limply in his grip for a second before he let him crumble to the floor. A bullet flew past Arthur's ear a second later.

Somebody here is fast- a shame he can't aim.

Arthur shot the five men down before anymore could pull their guns.

The camp erupted into a mix of shouting orders, and screams of pain as Arthur made his way through the camp. His gun was holstered in exchange for a knife and his bare fist.

Another man, also young with dark hair, watched with wide horrified eyes as Arthur practically tore a man open with his knife, then set his sights on him. Running didn't work, he didn't get very far. Jerked back by the back of his collar, turned around with so much force his legs gave up on coordination and ended up in a heap. Arthur held him by his rumpled, red shirt.

“Where is he?!” Arthur said through gritted teeth, his voice deep and guttural, panting from the force he'd used on every man in this camp who stood in very similar positions to the man he was holding right now.

“The shack-” the man nearly cried, choking on his own breath, “it’s-it’s where we keep our meat.”

Arthur shoved the man to the floor, his back hitting the ground with enough force to crack it.

In the short moment he had- he could hear more members of the camp coming- he reloaded his gun.

Two O’Driscolls came from behind a large tent. Arthur got them in one shot, straight through both mens chests, they collapsed on top of each other in a soon-to-be rotting heap.

The rush of O’Driscoll’s was brought to a quick and brutal end. The last line of defense for the meat shack- for you- was a tall, pale man.

With bullets to spare, Arthur emptied the barrel of his gun into the man, storming into the shack. It was dark, the soft light the sun provided wasn't enough, old wood creaking beneath his boots as he took slow, careful steps inside. Vague figures, six, hanging from the ceiling.

Even in the dark, he recognized you immediately. His heart sank as you hung there, unmoving.

A sudden deep breath broke the silence, then a groan. You shifted slightly against the rope around your wrist, muttering something as you did.

Holstering his gun, he sped over to you, putting both hands on your face, and even in the impossibly low light he could still see your eyes staring straight into his.

Cutting you down and carrying you out was a blur, he didn't look at you, your body, he didn't think he could, not with how he was now. He knew you were hurt, you'd hissed painfully when he picked you up, and despite his attempts to keep his eyes off of you, he could see that your shirt, at the very least, was torn and stained with blood.

He felt like he was burning, even with the camp extirpated and you safe in his arms. He still felt a furor building in his chest as he searched for your horses.

Your head rested against his chest, eyes just barely open, vision entirely blurred.

Unaware of your surroundings, you let Arthur’s familiar presence take you over. Listening to his ragged breath and pounding heart.

You don't remember being brought to camp or dozing off, but you felt better, your arms felt lighter and your head had stopped spinning, you could feel bandages on your shoulder, stomach, and leg. You blinked, looking down at yourself, your clothes had been changed, they were mismatched but comfortable. Resting your head back against the cot, glancing around the little camp Arthur had set up.

Kneeling by the fire, swearing under his breath as he stared into the hanging pot.

Pushing yourself up, you realized how sore your wrists still were, but you pushed passed it. Finding your barrings, you walked over to him, feeling dirt and twigs crunch under your boots. Arthur, staring so deeply into the pot, so frustrated with everything and everyone, did not hear you coming.

You sat behind him, wrapping your arms around him, squeezing him tight, feeling his warmth envelope your aching body.

“Hey, Hon..” you muttered into his neck, your throat was a little sore, you realized.

His hand found yours quickly, but they lingered on your wrist, over what would soon be scars. You breathed deeply, setting your head on his shoulder.

“Rope burn ‘s no joke”

You heard him breathe out.

“I was so…” he started, trying to find the word.

Enraged, pissed, livid, angry-

“..scared. With Sean riding into camp the way he did I couldn't help but think the worst.”

Sighing, you moved carefully to sit next to him. Your bruises ached, your cuts and gashed burned, and the bullet wound in your shoulder felt like hell, but you smiled.

“You know I'm not going anywhere, not without you. If I'm going to hell you bet your ass I'm taking you with me.”

Hd smiled softly, “I know, I know,”

Stirring the pot a bit, he said “Food’s not gonna be done for a while.”

“How long?”

“‘Bout an hour.”

You hummed, leaning your head on his shoulder, a moment passed, you pressed a kiss into the leather of his coat, another moment passed, you kissed his neck, right under his jaw. You felt him shift his head to the side.

A few more moments and a few more kisses later he pulled away. He was already hesitant to reciprocate, he'd seen the extent of your injuries when he was cleaning you up, it was a hard sight to see. So many cuts and bruises that no matter how hard he tried he couldn't keep track of them all.

The second he reciprocated, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him, kissing you slowly, his hand curling around your hip- he pulled away when a small, pained noise left your throat.

Guilt immediately flooded Arthur, his heart clenching, then dropping into his stomach when you moved your pants down to reveal a deep purple bruise. Still fresh and no doubt painful.

He mumbled your name as you checked out the bruise, then fixed your pants, looking back up at Arthur like nothing had happened.

“I’m okay,” you said, your mood clearly not phased the way Arthur’s was.

“I’m sorry..”

You hummed, getting close and leaning your head on his shoulder.

“Don’t be.”

“You know I can't help it..”

You pressed a short kiss into the crook of his neck.

“Then make it up to me.”

It was a well known fact that Arthur was wrapped around your finger, you knew it, he knew it, and all your friends at camp knew it. So it didn't take much begging, despite his better judgment.

His brain was screaming at him- you were hurt, covered in bruises. Sex would not make you better, it would actually make you worse.

Yet here he was, kneeling on the cot with you laying in front of him, a relaxed smile on your face as he popped each button on you pants open. You spread your legs, hanging them over Arthur’s hips. He hesitated.

Your hands found his in a moment, pulling them up to your lips and kissing from his wrist all the way up to the tips of his fingers. He sat there silently admiring you, every touch of your lips stinging him with a feeling of both guilt and need.

You stopped with a bite, taking the tip of his thumb in your mouth, biting with just a little bit of pressure. Then you kissed it like you had done all the others. It brought to mind a rougher memory, with you at his mercy, with him doing nothing while watching you writhe, pleas falling from your lips rapidly.

He blinked and the memory was gone.

Arthur let out a slow, unsteady breath. Then leaned down, burying his face in your neck, listening to your breath, feeling your pulse, kissing your exposed skin. Hearing the relieved sigh you let out, he began to grasp just how much you wanted him.

With practices ease, he blindly unbuttoned your shirt, moving from marking your neck to marking your exposed chest.

As gently as he could muster, he ran his hands down your sides, feeling the hard, hot bruises that littered your body.

You breathed out as he went farther and farther down, from your neck, to your chest, all the way down to your barely exposed hip. His fingers in two belt loops, slowly tugging your pants lower and lower. He kissed every inch of your skin, and every time he exposed more, he devoured it.

Pulling back to take your pants all the way off, nearly disturbing the now healing cut that went across your thigh. Your already hard cock rested against your stomach. Balling up your pants and setting them to the side. Resisting the urge to run his hands across each scab that had formed on your skin. A deep-seated urge to soothe and comfort, but he knew he couldn't do much more than he already had.

He pressed into you slowly, holding your hip steady in his hands, your thighs flinching several times, bitting down on to your lip as the pain of being stretched open lit every nerve in you body. Letting out a rigid, stuttered breath as he slowly pulled out after a moment of waiting- your hand squeezing his arm, giving him permission to move.

He did, holding your body close to his, reveling in every little whimper and moan, no matter how small. His praise boundless and constant as he thrust into you. You could feel him holding back, you’ve been with Arthur far too long to no know- he’s doing it for your well-being- you probably couldn’t handle more that what he’s giving you now.

Your body clung to Arthur’s as you came, your own shattered breath was the only sound you could hear for a long moment. Slowly releasing Arthur from your crushing grip, you blinked as your vision - which you hardly even realized was skewed- became clear again, and the mildly worried face of your lover came into view.

You couldn't help but smile- not that you wanted to let help it- especially as relief flooded his rigid figure.

“‘You okay?”

You nodded, shutting your eyes for a moment, finding that opening them became harder with every second that passed. You could hear Arthur talking, small mutters to you or to himself, your words only came out as a quiet, incoherent noise. You were exhausted, but quite happy. Even as your body settled and new pains set in with the old ones. You were happy.

#male reader #male!reader #x male reader #male y/n #arthur morgan x male reader #arthur morgan x male!reader #red dead redemption 2 x male reader #red dead redemption 2 x male!reader #red dead redemption 2 #✮ — z boy

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gojocp · 6 months

Text

things they've done/said

cw: some of gojo's dialogue is from 'dangerously yours', pookie pie's so cute brah, can you tell i'm mostly writing for characters i have a preference for?? also how tf do you write good apologies that sound genuine? LMFAO featuring: gojo satoru, geto suguru, megumi fushiguro

a/n: hello!! school's kicking my ass guys, sorry for not posting for a while. i literally lost all motivation :(( anyways, lmk how this is, hope you enjoy!! credits to my annoying sister for the idea for megumi's scenario.

GOJO SATORU: ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Once, I told you I'd kissed a thousand women.." Satoru starts.

You reminisce before you and Satoru started dating, how he tried his hardest to make you fall for him, only to fall in love himself.

.・。.・゜✭・.

"I've kissed sooo many women before. A thousand, probably more than that." Satoru boasts, a faint blush on his face. "One more kiss from you doesn't mean anything..!"

"I'm sure it doesn't.." You respond, leaning into him for another.

.・。.・゜✭・.

"Go on.." You say, urging him to continue.

"It was a lie.." He confesses, feeling his ears grow warm.

"I know.." You state, smiling fondly at him.

"You- wh- you knew??" He exclaims, stunned that you knew the whole time. And here he though he was being so secretive.

"Yeah, it was pretty obvious. I mean- you kissed a thousand women? Nobody believed that." you continue, gazing at him with love in your eyes.

"Yeah right! You only know now because I told you." The high schooler retorts, refusing to acknowledge the fact that he couldn't convince you.

"..okay.." You say, letting it go and resting your head on his shoulder.

You both gaze at the sunset, blissfully wrapped in each other's arms. Satoru pulls you closer and starts,

"How many guys have you kissed?"

"Very few. None of them meet the criteria," You answer.

"Oh? And I met it, right? I mean, you kiss me all the time," he responds smugly, facing you with a teasing grin plastered on his lips.

"Not really, no."

"WHAT?!"

"I just wanted to kiss you, that's why.." You confess, feeling your cheeks grow the slightest bit warm.

"Ahh.. and I don't suppose you'd want to kiss me right now, would you? He teasingly asks, cupping your face with one hand and leaning in with a smile.

"I would, actually," You respond, playing along with his childish antics.

Pulling away, he stares at you lovingly.

"Now, tell me what I need to do to meet the criteria."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

GETO SUGURU: ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Isn't she soo hot??" Satoru exclaims loudly, showing his phone to your boyfriend Suguru. "It's Waka Inoue. She's soo fine."

"Yeah, she is." He agrees, smiling at his friend.

'Is this guy fucking serious?' You think, sharing a look with Shoko, telling you she was thinking the same thing. 'Who calls another girl hot in front of their girlfriend?'

"She's hot?" You question, an eerie look in your eyes that causes Suguru to low-key freak out.

"Yeah, wanna see?" Satoru asks, showing his phone to you. it reveals a woman in a bikini posing (though it does very little to cover her skin).

"...This is what you're into?" You continue to press your boyfriend over the matter, upset that he would agree with his friend calling other women 'hot' and 'fine' in front of you.

"Uh-well-not- it's like.." He sputters, his ears reddening as his two friends laugh at his expense.

"Wow," You say flatly, turning on your heel and walking away upset.

.・。.・゜✭・.

"I fucked up.." Suguru says, resting his head in his hands. "Yeah, we know.." Responds Satoru, clearly not helping this situation, as he receives a pointed glare from his friend.

"What do I do? She probably hates me." Suguru asks, aiming his question at his brunette classmate rather than toward his idiot friend.

"Talk to her, man.. communication is key," she responds, patting her sulking friend's back.

"And!! Tell her she's soo pretty, and you love her sooooo much and buy her flowers and chocolate and a necklace-"

"OKAY!" Suguru interrupts, having enough of his white-haired friend's antics. "I'll just, talk to her... I think I really hurt her feelings. I mean- she hasn't come out of her room since then and she won't talk to me. It's been 4 hours."

"I don't think she likes you anymore," Satoru interjects, however, his words fall on deaf ears as Shoko starts to speak,

"She looked upset. I mean, if she was telling me she thought some guy was 'so fine' and 'so hot' you'd be upset too, right?" She questions, trying to get your boyfriend to understand your feelings.

"Yeah.." He agrees, thinking about his plan and how he's going to win you back (even though he hadn't really lost you in the first place).

.・。.・゜✭・.

knock knock knock

"Yeah?" You sigh, opening the door. To your surprise, you see your boyfriend holding flowers with a sheepish smile on his face.

"Wh- huh? What is this?" You manage to ask, after standing shocked for a minute.

"I'm sorry, (Y/N). I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it when I said she was hot. I wasn't thinking. I didn't take into consideration how it'd make you feel. And, god, I'm so sorry. If you don't want to talk to me ever again, I get it. But.. at least take this." He sighs, holding out the flowers for you.

You take the flowers from him and wrap your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. He wraps his arms around your waist tightly and holds you close to him. He lets out a sigh as he feels you relax against him, glad you aren't upset anymore.

"I'm sorry too, I overreacted. I know you probably didn't mean it, but I got upset, and..." you begin, not wanting to acknowledge your feelings, even though you know it's for the better, "insecure."

"And it's okay. If I were you, I would've done the same thing." He reassures, pulling away to cup your cheeks in his hands.

He leans in and places a kiss on your lips, tilting his head to get a better angle as you wrap your arms around his waist. As you pull apart to breathe, you hear a familiar agitating voice,

"EWW! Get a room, guys!! You're disgusting!"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO: ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"ITADORI!! OUT OF THE WAY!!" Yelled Nobara, skating at high speeds directly towards Itadori.

"huh?- OH GOD!"

"Kugisaki, slow down."

"I CAN'T!"

Nobara rams into Itadori and they both slide across the floor, knocking down everything else in the way.

"That's about to be me." You say to Megumi, holding onto the wall so you don't fall.

"It's not that hard, they just suck... Here, I'll teach you." He replies softly, holding a hand out to you. You take one hand off the wall and hold onto his with all you might, clutching it with the other.

He slowly guides you around the rink, paying no mind to the strength you're using to hold onto his hand. As your classmates lay helplessly on top of each other, you say,

"Shouldn't we help them?"

"They'll be fine," Megumi responds, sparing them no more than a glance.

Amidst the screaming from your friends, you manage to go around the rink twice as Megumi guides you off and to the table where your bags reside. He pulls out a chair and slowly helps you sit, handing you a water bottle.

"Thank you." You say, taking a drink. Directing a soft smile your way, he goes to help his friends still lying on the floor.

As he sits them down, he turns to you and asks,

"Want to go again?"

"Yes!" You gleam, quickly standing up. You seemed to lean forward too much as the ground got closer and closer. However, your boyfriend was there to catch you just in time.

"Careful, don't fall before you get on the rink." He teases, a teasing grin lacing his lips.

"Y-yeah." You stutter, having rarely seen the teasing side of Megumi.

You clutch his hand tighter than last time as he guides you back on to the rink.

"If you keep holding my hand that tight, you won't learn." He starts, prying one of your hands off of his own. "Try with one first. It's not as bad as you think. Trust me."

"Okay.." Your hand shakes in his hold, still scared of falling. As he notices, he says, "I'm holding you. You're not gonna fall."

He takes you around in circles a few times before suggesting you try on your own.

"NO!.. No, I'm okay, let's keep going like this." He slowly pries your hand off his, smiling softly at you as he skates out of arm's reach.

"Just try once, and you can hold my hand again. I'll be right behind you."

You mimic his movements, glad your observation skills are coming in hand. After what feels like an eternity of skating, you make it back to the start of the rink, Megumi trailing behind you.

"Hello, students!! Sorry to cut the fun short, but we're going back now!!" Your teacher calls out, waiting by the door of the roller place.

.・。.・゜✭・.

"Was that your first time rollerblading?" Your boyfriend asks, holding your bag in one hand and your hand in the other, as you trail behind your classmates.

"Yeah.." You respond, slightly embarrassed.

"You did well." He continues, pulling you in for a quick kiss before pulling away and continuing on your walk back, not wanting your friends to tease him about it as they usually do.

"FUSHIGURO!! (Y/N)!! HURRY UP!" Itadori calls out, waiting at the crosswalk with Nobara and Gojo behind him. Gojo shoots you a knowing smile before Megumi responds,

"Yeah, we're coming."

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mykneeshurt · 1 year

Text

Breath work

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nothing.

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

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

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

‘Negative.’

‘Why? Are you ugly?’ You smirked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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robobarbie · 8 months

Note

THERE ARE ANTI NIGHTOWL ASKS IN HERE?? WHO HATES HIM? IS IT BECAUSEHES A BOY THATS PRETTY LIKE A GIRL?? THATS SO UNFAIR

it was because he said "fuck you" to MC and people found it triggering. i had been through relationships in my early 20s where people have said that to me and i have said that to people, so it did not cross my mind at the time that people would be that upset by it, as i was aiming for "realism" in that moment. I'm still gonna make LIs that are unflinchingly full of faults no doubt, but it was a learning experience for sure and i am genuinely sorry it affected some people the way it did

what i do not think was warranted though were some attacks on my character that i received or heard about because of nightowl. some people gossipped about how i promote unhealthy relationship dynamics and abuse, and that is just an unfair and 2 brain cell reading of the route/game. i think those people have never experienced real life and are seeking people to look down on others to feel better about themselves though, so i dont think about them much

yeah anyway early nightowl hate made me more resilient to negative reviews though on my games for sure LMFAO -- they dont affect me at all anymore

#bp ask #anon ask #nightowl

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obsolescent · 8 months

Text

The Necessity of Saints - Part Two

Part One

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x SingleMom!Reader

Author's Notes: Um. I went in LMFAO. I literally had to cut myself off from writing anymore for this. I hope you enjoy!

Content Warnings: Explicit sexual content, P in V sex, multiple orgasms, protected sex, fingering, squirting, nipple play, cumming from nipple play, Simon is a gentle lover and always aiming to please, reader is touched-starved.

Word Count: 3,241

You let Simon know your availability, agreeing on a time–a date–something you haven’t been on in years. You’re filled with excitement, giddy at the prospect of dressing up and going out with someone, thinking of what all you two could do. Dinner, of course, maybe a movie? Oh! Maybe that carnival that’s in town for the week. You laugh to yourself, so many possibilities. So much anticipation bubbling, it has spilled over into your interactions with everyone around you.

“You’re chipper than usual, have anything going on?” A coworker asks. “Mama, you’re literally glowing, it’s so cute,” Your daughter says with a giggle, delighted to see you with a pep in your step this whole week. Friday night arrives, your excitement now mingling with nervousness. ‘Need something to wear, should I dress casually or should I be bold? Something slutty? Ugh, I don’t think I even have those types of clothes anymore.’ You don’t, you really don’t have much except for comfortable clothing now, some flowy dresses and skirts, and flats and sandals.

You pick out your fanciest dress. A long sleeved, empire cut, burnt orange dress with a sweetheart neckline. The length reaches mid calf, and you pair it with some comfortable, strappy flats. You fix your hair and makeup, looking sophisticated yet casual. ‘Probably the best for a first date.’ You and Simon spoke some more in regards to plans for that night, settling on a restaurant downtown to begin with. You agreed to meet there, not wanting him to know where you live just yet.

Your hands are sweaty as hell. You continue to wipe them off, pacing the living room while the time gets closer for you to leave. “O-M-G mama, relax! It’ll be fine. Just take some deep breaths and sit down,” Rhea says, having watched your anxious movements for the past ten minutes. “Ugh, I just…Don’t know what to do with myself,” You say, finding your way to sit next to her. She pats your shoulder, “Are you worried he won’t like the way you look? You look great, mama, I think he would think you’re pretty even if you showed up in a trash bag.” You guffaw, grinning at your daughter. She is a light in your life that you’re so glad to have, thankful for her reassuring words.

The clock reads 6:45 PM, fifteen minutes before your arranged time. “Reckon I better get going,” You let out a shaky breath, standing up and grabbing your purse. “Have a good time and have fun, love ya and be careful!” Rhea shouts from the couch as you’re opening the front door, “Love you, too!” You shout back, closing and locking the door. You get inside your car, backing out of the driveway and heading to the restaurant.

You arrive with five minutes to spare, giving yourself a pep talk. “If he doesn't like you, he can stick it! Go off on your own and treat yourself,” You say out loud, looking at your reflection in the visor’s mirror, making last minute adjustments to your look. You cut the engine and step out, locking the doors. Walking towards the entrance, you notice Simon standing off to the side, a bouquet in his hands, the other in his pocket. You’re internally screaming, face turning red at just seeing him with the flowers, in a black button up with matching slacks.

He notices you approaching, giving you a smile, “Hello, love. Glad I didn’t scare you off,” He greets you, handing the bouquet over. A bushel of ranunculus, all varieties of color. “Thank you so much, these are beautiful,” You inhale their scent. “Could say the same about you, you look wonderful,” He says, his gaze following the contours of your body. You give a meek ‘thank you’ blush reaching the tips of your ears. “Shall we?” He asks, extending his arm for you to take. You nod, grabbing onto it, feeling him flex his muscles. ‘Good Lord he’s ripped.’ You both head inside, where the host seats you at a table in the corner, Simon taking the seat that faces out into the restaurant.

Light conversation begins, learning about one another. You find out that Simon is retired from the British military, which prompts you to ask why he’s here, of all places. “I like the liquor,” He says, causing you to laugh. Conversation carries on into dinner, your nerves far away from your thoughts, the wine Simon ordered helping to ease them. You’re honestly happy to have Simon’s company. He insists on paying for your meal, you opposing the whole time. ‘Let him treat you, he seems to really like doing it,’ The thought swimming through your mind. You bite your tongue, smiling and giving your thanks.

After the bill is paid, he escorts you out, once more offering his arm to you, which you gladly hang on to this time. You walk out into the crisp night air, feeling light and full of happiness. “Anything else you’re up for?” He asks, glancing down at you. You mention what you had been thinking about earlier, about the visiting carnival or a movie. He chuckles at your suggestions, “A movie sounds nice, yeah?” You nod, him leading you to his car. A sleek, black, Chevrolet Silverado is what he brings you to. Looking at it in astonishment, big and hefty. ‘Just like him.’

He helps you practically climb into the passenger side, settling in and buckling your seatbelt. He joins you on the other side, turning the ignition on and pausing, seeming almost nervous about what he’s going to say next. “If you’re comfortable with it, would you be opposed to watching a movie at my flat?” He asks, shifting in his seat, using your wording from your first proposition. “No, no at all opposed,” You respond, replying with his past sentence. He looks over with a grin, “Alright, love,” Is said before he pulls out of the parking spot, in the direction of his apartment.

He gives his thanks, sitting down beside you. He picks up the remote and turns on his television, scrolling through the selections. You had mentioned liking the horror genre earlier, him also in agreement. He seemed to be checking out the movies in that category, noticing one you had been meaning to watch, but hadn’t gotten around to it. You express your interest in that film, before he selects it.

The movie begins, you settling against the cushions to immerse. Simon shifts a bit closer to you, before putting his arm on the back of the couch, the warmth radiating from him. You give a slight shiver, haven’t been this close to someone other than your daughter in a long time. He notices, grabbing a throw blanket near the end of the couch before draping it across your form. You turn red, not having the guts to tell him the real reason why you shivered.

As the movie progresses, you steal glances at his profile. Blond hair effortlessly tousled, stubble adding a rugged look to him, his pronounced nose slightly crooked, likely due to it being broken before. He’s quite the looker, with a great personality to match. He looks over at you, catching you staring. Your gazes lock, looking deeply into his honeyed eyes. He smiles, before clearing his throat. “Would you like some bourbon?” You weren’t expecting that, but agree, him rising from his seat and making his way to a liquor cabinet, pouring you both a glass.

He hands you yours, taking a cautious sip. It goes down smoothly, warming your throat. You hum, thanking him, while he settles back into place. Immersing yourself once more, you don’t realize how much you’ve drank until the glass is empty. You set it down on the coffee table, the warmth now spreading throughout your body. He sets his down besides yours, having finished his own. His arm brushes your own as he sits back. You contemplate on asking him to cuddle, worrying your bottom lip. ‘It’s just cuddling,’ you think, inhaling through your nose, taking a deep breath. “Could we, uh, cuddle?” You ask, grimacing at how unsure it sounds. He raises an eyebrow, “Is that what you really want, love?” Your body buzzes at the pet name, but you squish it down, nodding your head. He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you close.

Your body ignites at the sensation, nerve endings buzzing at his grip. ‘Bless your heart’ you say to yourself. It never occurred to you that you would be touch starved after all this time, but it’s made itself known. His cologne, the fabric of his shirt rubbing against you, his breath fanning out over your hair, small touches that feel so immense. You then notice the brush of his thumb, slightly rubbing at your waist. Heat surges downwards, like you’ve been set on fire.

You don’t realize you’ve made a noise until you feel Simon tense up against you. “Everything alright? Do you want me to stop touching you?” He asks, beginning to pull away. “No!” You squeak out, face aflame. “It just…Feels really good? Ugh, sorry, you’re not even…I haven’t been touched in a long, long time. I didn’t know it would affect me like this,” You try to laugh it off, beginning to fidget under his gaze. He nods in understanding. “I’ve been like that as well, nothin’ to be bashful about,'' He says, shifting to face you, his firm grip steadfast.

“Y-yeah, I’m just more…Sensitive? Than I thought, I hope it isn’t bothering you,” You respond. His hand slides up to cup your jaw, large hands engulfing the side of your face. Your breath catches in your throat, frozen in place. “Not botherin’ me at all, love,” he mutters, studying your face. This close to him, you notice more details. Faint scars scattered across his face, likely due to his field of work. Feeling emboldened, you bring a hand to his face, tracing one that reaches from under one of his eyes to the top of his upper lip. He tenses again, watching your movements.

Reaching his lips, you let your thumb graze across them, a huff of breath leaving Simon’s mouth, warming your finger. “Somethin’ you want, is there?” He whispers, pulling you closer. Liquid courage coursing through you, you ask, “Never got to properly thank you for your help at the store. Could I…?” You trail off, hoping he picks up what you’re putting down. He does, but that open ended question isn’t the exact wording he’s looking for. “Could you what, love? You can ask for it, can’t you?”

Needing words of consent, you take a deep breath. “May I kiss you?” He smirks. “There you are.” He allows you to close the distance. At first, you give a peck to his cheek, before pressing your lips against his. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss, clutching at his shirt. Simon threads his fingers through your hair, sighing against you.

Oh God. You want him so badly, a profound yearning within your gut blooms throughout your body. Feeling desperate, your hands comb through his locks, a firm grip on them. He grunts, before tugging on yours, causing a rather loud moan to slip from your mouth. “P-Please, Simon. I want you,” You plead, breaking away to kiss along his jaw. He hums, “Good girl, using your words,” He pets your hair, his hand trailing from your hair down your back, fingertips light across your spine, sending a shiver through you.

His hand finds its destination, firmly grabbing your ass. You gasp out, arching against him. “Touch starved, are we?” He asks, chuckling. You whimper, grasping at his forearms, close to getting on your hands and knees to beg him to keep going, please please don’t stop. “Been needin’ someone to take care of you, yeah? Allow me, sweet girl.” You feel like igniting at his words, his sweet talk adding fuel to the ever growing heat inside your body.

His hands reach towards your upper back, locating the zipper on your dress. He hesitates, waiting for your approval which is given with a quick ‘yes yes yes’. Agonizingly slow, he pulls it down, before taking both hands and pulling at the sleeves to move the upper half away from your heated flesh.

Oh. You forgot you hadn’t worn a bra tonight, the dress having built in cups, you didn’t see the reason to, until now. Feeling bare under his burning gaze, you hunch over. “None of that now, love. S’just me,” He says, moving your arms away from your chest. Sitting upright again, you jut your chest out some, closing your eyes against his wandering stare, taking you in. “Gorgeous,” He whispers, fingers running along the slope of your left breast.

Gasping, you stick your chest out more. You’re hoping he doesn’t need verbal approval, not trusting yourself to form cohesive thoughts at the moment. He continues, your reactions enough. His light touches are bordering on driving you feral, needing more. You squeeze his forearms, hoping he receives the message. He seems to understand, leaning down and taking a nipple into his mouth, his hand pinching the other.

You cry out, sensation like lightning electrifying you. Your eyes roll back into your head, chanting, “Please please don’t stop, feel s’good, God, please keep going!” He obliges, sucking harder on your hardened nub while tugging on the other. You begin trembling. “W-wait, Simon, I think I’m–” A loud moan rushes out of you along with wetness, soaking your panties from suddenly squirting. A tug of your nipple between his teeth sent you careening over the edge into glory. Your orgasm spreads throughout your body, holding onto him for dear life.

Simon groans, pulling away. “Fucking hell. Cumming from me barely touching you.” He’s looking at you in wonder. He lays you back against the leather, pulling your dress off all the way. Left in just your soiled underwear, he soon pulls those down as well, moaning as he sees the mess you made. “Gonna be the death of me,” He mutters, pocketing the ruined panties. He quickly unbuttons his shirt, exposing his chest in all its grandeur. You bite your lip at the literal marble statue hovering over you, running your hands down his pecs and abs.

You reach his slacks, tugging at his belt. He unbuckles said item, unzipping his pants and pulling them down. Now able to see his rather hefty cock straining against his underwear. You let out another whimper, legs automatically spreading open. “Goin’ to give you all you need, sweet girl. Being so good for me,” He says, running his hands up and down your legs, giving a reassuring squeeze to them. He kisses down your chest and stomach, touches soft and sweet. Reaching the apex of your thighs, his hands slot behind your knees, pushing your thighs against you, laid bare before him.

The passion in his eyes is so intense you have to look away, biting your lip. He tuts at you, “Want you to see this next part,” He says, directing your gaze back to him. He smiles, before suddenly a hot stripe of his tongue runs up, through your folds and to your clit. You toss your head back and yell, his chuckle vibrating against your pussy. Your legs are shaking even harder than before. Your words incoherent, you grasp at his hand, pulling him closer to your heat. ‘Good Lord, he’s a goddamn professional.’ Good to know your thoughts are still intact.

Your thoughts come to a standstill, Simon sliding a finger into your warmth. He swirls it around inside before adding another, crooking upwards while sucking on your clit. “Ah!” You’re thrown over that precipice again, legs clamping around his head. He pulls away, watching you shudder and convulse, wetness releasing from you once more. He grins, proud of his work. “Think you have one more in you, sweet girl,” He says, matter of factly, like he didn’t just remove your soul from your body twice in under ten minutes.

He pushes your thighs further up this time, knees almost bracketing each side of your head. ‘Good God, this man is going to ruin me.’ You’re thankful your thoughts have returned for the moment, knowing your brain will be scattered again soon. He reaches down, pulling a condom from his wallet, slipping it on. “Ready for me?” He asks, lining himself up with your quivering hole, clenching around nothing for the moment. You nod. “Yes, yes, yes please,” you beg, shame be damned, needing Simon inside you now.

He slides in effortlessly, going achingly slow. The stretch is a lot, not surprising, though. It definitely matches in accordance with the rest of his body. He fully seats himself inside you, letting you adjust. “Please, move. Fuck me, Simon, need it so bad,” You’re able to form a coherent sentence, it rushing out of you near the end when Simon pulls out and glides back in. “Fuck, so tight, love. Feel so good, baby,” He moans out, picking up speed. Skin slapping against skin fills the quiet space, movie long over with.

He’s hitting every single inch of you, rubbing just right. He leans over you, letting your legs drop. You take the opportunity to wrap them around his waist, pulling him flush against you. Simon brings you in for a searing kiss, rocking his hips into you, barely leaving you now. Your moans and panting are music to his ears, his own noises making you sing to the heavens. Reaching in between your bodies, he works your clit in unison with the grinding of his hips. “One more love, you can do it, there you go sweet girl, so good f’me,” He feels the rhythmic clenching around his cock and your squealing, reaching euphoria for the last time that night. He picks up the pace again, his thrusts soon stuttering as he reaches his own end, gasping and whimpering into your neck.

He keeps himself propped up on his elbows while you both calm from the frenzied activity. As your breath evens out, he pecks your cheek, grinning. “Most proper thanks I’ve received,” He says, laughing at your widening eyes. “You��!” You swat at his chest, beginning to laugh yourself. He slides out, disposing of the condom before picking you up, carrying you to his bedroom. He sets you down on his silken black sheets, before laying next to you. You toss your leg over his before snuggling into his chest. He kisses the top of your head, feeling warm. You mumble a ‘Good night’ before drifting off, Simon not far behind you. Allowing himself to fall asleep cradling you in his arms. Feeling content and happy for the first time in a long while.

Tags: @dwkfan, spicy part two ♡

#o fics #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #simon ghost riley #call of duty smut

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surielstea · 2 months

Text

Heart Shaped Marks

Valentine's Day special

Pairing: Lucien Vanserra x Fem!reader

Summary: Lucien and Reader celebrate

Valentine's Day together

2k words

A/N: This is pretty tame for smut but I honestly don't think Lucien is freaky like that LMFAO hope it's still enjoyable <33

I was seated on my couch, a smutty novel between my hands as I flipped through the pages with a flush across my cheeks. Lucien strolled into the sitting room, a low whistle emitting from his lips, signifying his arrival. I continued to read, trying not to send waves of arousal through the bold we shared. The only way to do so was to block him out.

He stopped mid step and stared at me, his golden eye whirring in on me and I froze. His eye could see through glamours and spells, it's not like he could read the words on the page from such a distance. "What?" I utter shyly, closing the book halfway but not daring to lose my place in the heated chapter. "You blocked me out." A frown forms on his lips as a warm beam of sunlight lingers along the edge of my obsidian shields.

"I'm trying to read." I shrug, attempting to use that as an excuse. His gaze lingers on me and I give him a reassuring smile. "Okay," He rocks on his heels slightly. "I won't bother you." He hummed sarcastically, passing past the couch and aiming towards the kitchen. I release a long sigh and open my book back up, returning to the filthy pages.

I only make it a few pages until I'm startled out of my mind. "Oh?" My mate hums right beside my ear and I jump, slamming the book closed. I look back at him wide eyed and he gives me a foxlike smirk before snatching the novel from my hands. "Lucien!" I jump from the couch, running around the side of it in order to get the worn paperback. But he's already got the pages open, and that smirk turns into a much more sinister smile. I lunge for it but he lifts it above his head with a chuckle. I jump, reaching for it but there's no use.

"His large hand travels down, lower," He begins to read it aloud and my blush doubles over. I decide jumping won't do me any good so I wrap my arms around his shoulders and my legs around his torso. "When his thick fingers finally reach my most sensitive area I can't help but moan—" He chuckles. "Lucien!" I thwack his shoulder but he doesn't seem to care.

Even if he didn't want me to get my hands on the book he still uses his free arm to support my weight as I continue to climb him like some kind of tree. "Pleads reverberate from my lips as he circles my entrance," He continues and I manage to pull his arm down, grabbing the book and yanking it out of his grasp.

He looks at me with a smug smile as I scowl at him. His other hand comes under my thigh, continuing to carry me. "I wasn't done reading that." He teases and I reply with a nasty glare, throwing the book down onto the couch. "Neither was I." My words are spat like an insult and he can't help but chuckle. "Are you truly so needy that you need to read something like that?" His taunt only makes me more annoyed. "You could've just come to our bedroom I would've happily—" I quickly press a hand over his mouth. "Silver tongued bastard." I grumble as I pull my hand away. "Awe don't insult when my silver tongue has brought you pleasure more times than you can count." He hums and my body flushes hot.

"Do you know what today is in the human lands?" He asks, quickly switching the topics, while waltzing into the dining room, I was still cradled in his arms. "You spend too much time over the wall." I shake my head as he placed me down onto the dinner table. "It's Valentine's Day." He answers anyways, hands planted on either side of my hips. My brows twitch together, utterly perplexed. "What's a Valentine?" I murmur, confusion lacing my voice.

"Some dead guy." He shrugs and a giggle threatens to slip from my lips. "And this is a holiday?" I tilt my head and he nods. "The humans don't really care about where it originated from, it's a celebration of love." He explains and I think I'm starting to understand. "So like a mating ceremony?" I crease my brows. "No that's more of a wedding... it's essentially a day to get your significant other a gift to show appreciation." Lucien expressed, my hands coming up to the sides of his face as he spoke. "Well, I would've got you a gift if I had known." My confusion still lingered but it mostly made sense. "Gifts don't always have to be physical." He dropped down to his knees. Oh.

"Let me in." He coerced, his lips brushing against the middle of my inner thigh. I knew he was talking about the bond, so I dropped my shields and put my arousal on a pedestal under the spotlight— or rather his sunlight. He grinned as the waves of need washed over him, the feel of his lips on my thigh had me gripping the wood of the table beneath me.

"This okay?" He asks as he lifts both my legs to rest atop his shoulders, making me lean back on my palms. I nod, biting my bottom lip. "I need words, sunshine." His voice is soft and I muster up the courage to look down at him, two of his fingers dipping into my waist band, his eyes looking up at me like a lost puppy.

"Please," I sigh out. "I need you, Lucien." There's a slight quiver beneath my tone and it seems to snap whatever restraint he has himself tied to. My breath hitched as fire catches on my shorts, resulting in burning the material away but only the material. "I'll buy you a new pair." He reassures as he continues to kiss up my inner thigh. I nod, my eyes fluttering shut as he begins sucking on the bare skin of my thigh, leaving marks and a trail of his saliva. He releases the area with a pop and I'm relieved for a moment before he's attacking it again, in the same exact area from a different angle. He laves at the area with his warm tongue, soothing the new mark forming so close to my most desired area.

I look down at him again, only to see that when he pulls away he's left a heart shaped love bite right there on my bare skin. My nails dig into the table as he looks up at me, a proud glint in his eye, as if he's claimed this part of me. "Inside." The beg falls from my lips without thinking and a feline grin curves his lips. "Which part of me would you like inside of you my sweet?" His breath fans over the damp spot staining my underwear, the feeling making me tighten my legs around his head in doing so I'm pulling him closer to the apex of my thighs.

"Your tongue." I utter and something in his expression morphs into something primal, like a beast needing to consume whatever he can get his mouth on. "Yeah?" He slide two fingers into my panties, painstakingly slow as he pulls them down. I nod with a desperate fervor, clenching around nothing as he finally burns away my constricting garments, the only shield between my core and his mouth.

"You're soaked." He hummed and I released a small whine, needy for his lips against me. He presses a soft kiss just above my cunt, then leisurely swipes his tongue all the way down my folds, taking his sweet time as he savored the flavor that lingered in his mouth. He dragged his hot tongue back up and I released a soft moan when he brushed along my clit.

"More," | mumble beneath pants. Sighs escape me as he does as told, spitting saliva down onto my slit, watching as it slides down towards my entrance. He looks back up to me with lowered eyes, then attaching his lips around my most sensitive area and beginning to suck. And suck hard. I let out a long mewl, my head tilting back as he gave kitten licks to the area. "Feels good," | hum through my discombobulated thoughts. At the lewd sound he nips at my clit and I give out a scream, tightening my legs around his neck. He didn't seem to mind the way he was being shoved into my pussy.

Hands slither up the sides of my torso before descending down to the curve of my ass. "Look at me." He grips the plush skin as he growls the words. I breathe heavily and manage to lift my head up, then look down at him. My mate on his knees as he attacks my dripping sex. He pulls me to the edge of the table, traveling away from my clit and going straight to my entrance, save for the few times he dragged the flat of his tongue through my clenching folds, lathering all the release right into his craving mouth. And I watch all of it.

"Lucien, please." Whines tumble out of me as he circles my clamping entrance with the tip of his pleasurable tongue. Tears well in my eyes and when he notices this his leash snaps, he grips my hips and plunges his skilled muscle into me. I cry out at the feeling, but I keep looking at him. Staring as he ravaged me like a starved animal. He didn't relent for even a second and the way he flicked his tongue inside of me had me wailing. "How are you so, good at that?" It was less of a question and more of me marveling over how damned talented he was at eating me out.

My hand leaves its indent from the wood and I weave it into his auburn locks, tugging at them as his nose rubs at my overstimulated clit. I moan his name like he's my god, pushing him deeper and deeper as he licks up my walls. I grind up into his face and he hums, the vibration of his baritone voice pushing me closer to that edge. I pull at his long hair, fisting it between my fingers but he doesn't dare stop the ministrations that have me crying out for him.

I grind up again, his nose digging into that same sensitive spot. His tongue toys with the bundle of nerves nestled deep inside of me. He doesn't ease, continuing to attack that spot with a need I recognize. "I—" Speaking is foreign as he curves his tongue at a perfect angle, having me barrel towards that point of pleasure. "I'm gonna," Is all I can say before my eyes are clamping shut and the tight knot inside of me nears snapping.

"Look at me." He repeats. "I want to see those pretty eyes when you cum on my tongue." He commands through the bond, not daring to pull away if even to order something of me. I pant as I manage to open my eyes, looking down at him. The bottom half of his face covered in my slick, the sight alone was so arousing it shoved me right into my release.

I ground my hips up weakly before I had a euphoric sensation running up my spine, my legs shaking as I climax around his tongue. It's his name on my lips when I reach that orgasmic moment. He gently guides me through the high, removing his tongue from my entrance but softly lapping at my dripping pussy. "Fuck," I groan out, brows creasing as he removes himself from between my legs. "You taste like honey." He sighs out, breath hitting my satisfied cunt. I blink bleary eyed, watching as he licked the remaining slick from his lips.

I grab the collar of his shirt and pull him up, bringing him to my mouth where I can taste myself on him, he wraps his strong arms around me as I pull him impossibly closer. I feel his member against my navel, hard and ready. My breath hitched as he ground into me, the feeling making a pathetic groan slip from his lips. I grin, deciding it's my turn to gift him something.

#lucien vanserra #lucien acotar #acotar #lucien x reader #x reader #x you #smut #sarah j maas #fanfic #acomaf #lucien supremacy #suriels tea #18+ only

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