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#i keep rolling low on the fucking gloves
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going to my lover (ffxiv) for respite from my 20 hour working day (christmas dinner with my family)
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dear-b0y · 4 months
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"ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ ɢᴇᴛ ᴀᴡᴀʏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴅɪsʀᴇsᴘᴇᴄᴛɪɴɢ ᴍᴇ?"
lucifer x m!reader
CW: AMAB reader, degrading, hair pulling, rough fucking, org. denial, a dash of praise. NSFW BELOW THE CUT.
shitty writing
'You have been quite arrogant and disrespectful lately,” Lucifer's voice rings through the room, causing a thrill to race through you. “Do you really think you can just get away with it?” he continues, his tone dripping with authority.
Your eyebrows furrow as you reply, “As if i’d obey you, stupid. It’s funny how you go around acting like you own me.”
Before you can even comprehend what's happening, Lucifer has grabbed you by the hair, pulling you closer to him, his lips pressed against yours in a searing kiss. You let out a pleasured and suprised moan into his mouth, feeling his hands trail down your body, his touch igniting a fire within you.
“Wrong answer,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous. He pushes you down onto his bed, pinning you down with his larger hands. “You need to be taught a damn lesson.” he says, his fingers tracing down your chest and rubbing your nipples as his other hand teasingly circles your hardening cock.
“Fuck—!” you gasp and your body instinctively jerks away, but it only seems to intensify his grip on you. “Don't even think about escaping, brat,” Lucifer says, his voice laced with that lustfulness you’ll never get tired of. “You asked for this.”
With one swift motion, he pulls your pants down, exposing your bare ass to him. “Spread your legs wider,” he commands, and you obey, knowing there's no use in resisting (besides maybe more roughness).
Lucifer smirks as he brings his hand down, spanking you hard, making you yelp in surprise and pleasure. “You like that, don't you, bitch boy?” he taunts, striking you repeatedly, each time making your body tingle and twitch. Your meek voice squeaks as his hand comes in contact with your ass. His tongue comes in contact with your ear as he whispers,
“I want to see how many dirty words I can make you moan while I fuck that mouth of yours. I want to see you take all of me, choking on my cock as I push it deeper and deeper down your throat.”
You moan, begging him to touch you, to give you some relief. He chuckles darkly, knowing how needy you must be feeling. His gloved fingers slip under the waistband of your boxers and take out your hard cock, his thumb rubbing the tip. The gloves heighten the sensation, making your legs tremble.
Then, two fingers rub your needy hole and makes you shiver. As if your body knows he’s made for you, it shyly swallows two of his fingers down to his knuckles. His fingers thrust in and out, but Lucifer purposely avoids your sweet spot.
“Please, Lucifer,” you whimper, your body trembling with need.
“Please what?” he asks, his hand still working you mercilessly.
“Please let me cum.” you gasp, your body aching with desire.
He releases a dark chuckle, his fingers moving faster, pushing you towards your release. “Beg for it, you whiny little brat.” he commands, his voice sending vibrations through your entire body.
You let out a strangled moan as his fingers suddenly hit against your prostate, making your toes curl and eyes roll back. “God, please,” you whine “Lucifer please I need it so bad, I promise i wont disobey you, i promise..!”
You hear him chuckle from behind and he teasingly bites your ear lobe before thrusting his fingers into you faster and harder. Lucifer’s lean body presses against you to keep you still while you moan and whine. As your mouth is open his other fingers press against your tongue,
“Quiet down. Do you want everyone to know what a slut you are? How desperate you are to feel good?”
You shake your head no as your eyes tear up, you were so, so close. Until, you don’t feel that release. You pant and look back over your shoulder as the build-up goes down and you feel that ache.
With a satisfied smirk, Lucifer pulls away, leaving you breathless and exhausted on the bed.
“Next time I’ll make sure to put you through torture, this was just a warning.”
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2kiran · 14 days
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࿐.𖥔 ݁ ˖ caught by spider-man noir, the man who has mercilessly aimed for your throat for beyond a decade. it was decisively humiliating for your ego, uncomfortable ropes binding your frame. “say... i was expecting for you to put up a bigger fight.”
he comically raises both of his gloved hands, forming them into fists to throw a punch to the air as if to draw out a pained reaction from you. “this is goin’ta’ go down history. that is, if anyone tries to remember ya.” you aren’t amused. he drops his arms to his sides, awkwardly coughing into his hand to try and ease the tension.
“right. let’s work something out.” check tags for warnings.
your hands grasp spider-man noir’s thick thighs, his walls dragging up and down your wet cock. “mnngh, this, ah, this is not what i had in mind.” he barely manages to let the words out, a ragged gasp pulling the fabric of his mask backwards.
“i’m not the one who started it.” you grunt, and he squeezes around you to keep you in, the rhythmic pulse practically hypnotizing you to continue fucking his tight hole. “ya should feel lucky, you - you—” he strains, cut off by his own breathy moan, your tip grazing against his sweet spot. the grip spider-man noir had on your shoulders tightened, a futile attempt to ground himself to reality.
the years, the pining, the lingering touches, the lasting glances, all coming to crash down onto this moment that encapsulated both of your beings. the mere sensation of him and promise for release practically possessed you, repeatedly guiding him up and down to take in the entirety of your aching dick. the skin of his thighs delicate beneath your touch, jolting with every thrust. the warmth radiating from him unfamiliar - a stark contrast to the coldness of your heart - yet so fucking good.
you’ve stretched the longing unnecessarily more than you should’ve, tension burrowing into your shoulders with his secure hold. “we should’ve done this - hnghh, sooner.” he lets out a groan that’s more of a whimper, pressing his masked forehead against yours. spider-man noir takes charge, gratefully so, rolling his hips forward to rightfully chase after what he’s been so deprived of.
“you were trying to, mmf, kill me.” it was a reminder that bubbles a chuckle from his chest. you were able to faintly tell that his goggles were fogging up from how harsh he was panting, his fedora noticeably tipping towards you.
if anyone were to enter this room, they would initially think that you two had a romantic bond. “so were you.” he gasps out, abruptly constricting when a particular harsh bounce causes you to slide all the way into him. your climax hits you like a train, being ripped from you unexpectedly, his ears catching onto a low groan of yours. fuck, did that make him clench on you harder.
“fair.” you huff, your clothing unbearably sticking to your sweaty skin. trying to lift him off, he tuts. spider-man noir forces himself back down. “who said we were done, pretty boy?”
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2kiran © 2023. don’t steal. ── masterlist
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sprout-fics · 2 months
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So lately I’ve been obsessed with bikers … and I can’t help but think of Ghost being a biker… would you ever consider writing about that??
OH. GIRL (gn)
I literally was just talking to @gazs-blue-hat about this.
Biker Ghost is a menace. This man has such an ego about his bike it would be so annoying if it weren't for the fact he looks so incredibly attractive. He works on the bike often, looks devastatingly handsome even with grease smeared across his knuckles and face. He's so incredibly proud of that bike and loves to show it off. When he retires his one true passion is taking the bike for long drives with you.
He keeps the skull aesthetic even on the bike, his helmet has personally done skull marks on it and he has skeletal biking gloves. In the summer he wears only a t-shirt, a little too tight where it clings to his massive biceps. The ink on his left arm swirls up and disappears beneath the black fabric, thighs bulging through his jeans. With his leather jacket on when it's cold he looks even bigger than he usually does- dressed entirely in black, visor dark and he revs the engine to be loud on purpose.
He'll come to pick you up from work just to show off, and you roll your eyes but how can you be mad when he looks like that? With his helmet on, visor up so you can feel his stare across the parking lot, arms crossed so his muscles bulge, leaning against the bike like he's a fucking guard dog.
Yet when you trot up like a schoolgirl with a crush he's disgustingly gentle with you. Takes your bag and stows it in the seat, gets your jacket and zips you up himself, and when you stand on your tiptoes to place a smooch on his helmet his hands hover at your waist as he gives a low, appreciative hum. He makes sure to kiss you too before he flips the visor or your own helmet shut. His voice is a low, deep rumble where you sometimes struggle to make out the words, but the warmth of it bleeds through all the same.
He knows to be extra careful with you as his backpack, double checks your gear and hauls you flush to his back. Your arms barely wrap around the trunk of his torso, and when they slip he waits until a traffic light to drag you closer, one hand stroking your knuckles as the other squeezes your thigh in appreciation. You're his beloved passenger, he's going to take extra special care of you even as the engine revs and the wind swallows you both.
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diejager · 4 months
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so, have some thoughts about perv!roommate!könig....
what about him setting up a camera in the reader's room, and watching the reader masturbate?
he didn't even mean to catch you touching yourselves like this, he only set it up to watch you change like the depraved pervert he is, accidentally catching you stuffing your cunt full with a huge dildo. :( and he can't help but imagine him fucking your pretty pussy instead.
he's so easily jealous, i know if he ever got into a relationship, he wouldn't allow sex toys!! he should be your only form of sexual pleasure, mouse :(
feel free to ignore if you're uninterested or too busy, no pressure and i hope you have a great new year <33 🌷🐙🐙
Cw: DUB-CON/NON-CON, DARKFIC, masturbating, camera, filming, sex toys, jealousy, possessiveness, somnophilia, mention of creampie, tell me if I missed any.
The cameras were set up for security reasons, small and inconspicuous things placed around the flat to keep watch in case anything were to happen to his home and to you. Truly, that was his initial intentions, they were pure and good-natured, until he stumbled on a sight that riled him up. He watched you from his phone your slick cunt - he could see how wet you were from the camera at the corner of your room, hidden behind the drywalls and poking out for a clear view of your hole room - stuffed with your small fingers, whining and writhing on your bed.
Unlike his, your fingers were small, too short and too thin to reach that spongy spot in you, where you ended up squirming as you came for him, asleep but listening so well. He watched on, mesmerised by the way slick splashed out of you with every thrusts, soiling your bedsheets with delicious musk that he’d spend his free time burying his face in, smelling your sweet cum and slick. He could tell from your pout that your fingers weren’t enough to fill you up, digits spreading open the lips of your cunt to accommodate something —something big from the stretch. It was a miracle anything fit in you, your pretty, fat lips and tight cunt was surprisingly flexible. He knew that from personal experience, spending many nights pumping his fingers into you and stretching you out for his girth, to pound into you in nights of weakness.
Seemingly satisfied, he peered at you with curiosity, your clear figure turning to fetch a box under your bed, popping it open to reveal a dildo, thick and veiny, big and long, and covering it with a lot of lube. Despite it being slightly smaller than his own cock, anger and envy flared in his chest, a violent torment of emotions that made him swear under his breath. But he can’t stop the blood rushing down his navel, witnessing you take a silicone cock so well, the uncut tip easily slipping into you before you slid down the rest of its girth, the pronounced veins brushing your gummy walls and tapping your spongy cervix.
You took the replacement easily, sinking into you with every buck of our hip, rocking down the length and rolling your hips to feel it fill you up. Your thighs pushed you up and down, lube and slick collecting at the base, leaving your bed and inner thighs so wet that it glistened to his eyes. You threw your head back and moaned so sweetly, a delicious sound that made his cock jump after he freed himself from the tight confines of his pants, popping off his belt and unzipping his fly to let his heavy girth hang between his legs.
He panted as he stroked himself, his breath catching at the back of his throat whenever he brushed his sensitive slit with his gloved thumb, matching your sloppy pace. He throbbed in his hand, twitching with neediness, pearly pre dripping from his tip, gleaming in the low light of his quarters. His foreskin rolled down the length, the dildo’s uncut tip felt purposefully chosen in his mind, an unconscious decision you made to feel something familiar pounding your cunt. He’s sure you picked that to please him —an instinctual act, he was sure.
He groaned lowly in his dark room, eyes glued to the screen that showed him the best and worse thing he’d ever seen, it was both pleasing and jealousy-inducing, his heart pulsing in ugly green. You let out the same mewls and breathy gasps when he fucked you in your sleep, slamming his veiny cock into you without waking you up. If he closed his eyes - he wouldn’t, that meant missing the addictive sight of you riding a small mimicry of him in your slick-soaked bed - he could imagine you riding him, mewling and writhing for him, but his glove was too rough, his hand not warm enough and his room too cold.
He followed you whenever you sped up, jerking himself more roughly, more erratically and cupping his heavy balls when you rolled your wet clit, thumb pulling back the hood and touching your throbbing button. His head rolled back, eyes fluttering and cock jerked as your breath hitched, a high keen shattering the cunt-hungry haze you threw him in, panting and rutting against his palm before he came, shooting across his desk and computer. You looked as debauched as he did, gasping and back arching, head tilted left as you stared off in a daze, unknowingly gazing at him through the camera.
He swore he put up these cameras for good reasons, to protect you, but it certainly wouldn’t be such a bother if he used them for more than simple surveillance, would it? He could make sure you were safe while you changed, danced, smoothed cream over your naked skin, masturbate and fuck yourself silly. He could all of it while in the loneliness of his quarters.
Taglist: @hiraya1802 @tess0288 @elichisstuff @emodanoriddler @kenz-ee @bunnyclaire @akenosimp167 @havoc973 @death8match @yourliebling @allicsirp00 @cross-axis @hereforhotbitches @delulu4ghost @monster-in-paradise @nordicvsp @madi0987 @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @223princess @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @dont-mind-me-just-existing-sadly @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @cherrrypepsii @kaelysia @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @aldis-nuts @randominstake @m0cha1w @cassiecasluciluce
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hier--soir · 5 months
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simon "ghost" riley x f!reader
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rating: explicit, 18+ mdni summary: he's big and he knows it. warnings/tags: explicit piv sex, size kink, degradation kink, brief ass play, dacryphilia, he's mean but only cause he knows you love it. word count: 1k masterlist a/n: i'd say i'm sorry, but i'm not. follow @hier--soirupdates if you'd like to be notified when i share my writing
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It all happened so quick.
Careful glances at you from across the table. Noticing the way you watch him for the entire meeting, all doe-eyed and hungry, lip snagged between your teeth. And then his rough hold around your wrist, marching you down a set of stairs and through a long corridor, into an abandoned office on a lower level of the base. Hot breath on your neck as he tells you no one ever comes down here. Tearing his gloves off, tossing them to the ground and promising that no one’ll hear you. Dark and unused, the room stinks of dust and mould, but he doesn’t care. Doesn’t even bother flipping the light switch on before he’s dragging your trousers to your ankles and nudging your stumbling frame towards the sofa.
It's old, made of rough olefin that scratches at the bare skin of your hips, your tits, your face. Time passes and you’re sure an angry rash must be splotching across your skin, raw and sensitive from the contact, but he isn’t letting up.
Simon’s right hand is firm, fingers splayed between your shoulder blades to keep your face against the cushions and your body bent over the armrest as he fucks into you from behind.
“Needy little thing.” The low timbre of his voice sends a shiver tripping down your spine. “Can’t stop thinking ‘bout my cock long enough to do your fucking job.”
“Yes,” you mewl, the sound turning to a ragged moan as his fingertips dig harder into your back. “Needed you. S’all I could think about.”  
His grip is bruising on your hip, dull nails pressing into your skin as he practically cleaves you in two around his cock. You can feel the blunt tip of him bump against that spongy spot inside you with every thrust. So thick and warm and sweaty as he rolls his hips against your ass at a relentless pace, knocking the wind from your lungs with every movement until your mouth is hanging open and you’re drooling down your chin.
“Spoilt fucking brat,” he pants roughly, and the words echo through the room. “Thought I’d broken you in by now.”
“Shit,” you cry out desperately, grinding your ass back into his hips. Hot tears sting at your waterline, begging to spill over. “Oh, fuck, oh god.”
The stretch is obscene, bringing with it a low, achy burn that swims between your thighs and stabs through your abdomen like little prods of lightening. But the pain is blurred and buffeted by the sound of his satisfied grunts as he gets his fill of you, leaning back to watch the way your slick cunt gapes and spasms around his girth.  
“Such a pretty little cunt,” he admires in a choked rasp, just like always. “Fucking hell.”
You wish you could see it too. The way he works you open and leaves you gaping at the loss of his cock, waiting just long enough to let you miss it before he sinks the heavy weight of himself back into your wet heat.
“So big,” you whine breathlessly, eyelids fluttering as another orgasm trembles its way through your body. “Fuck, Si, I'm—”  
“Bloody hell,” he snaps. “You ever stop fucking talking?”
You’re not proud of the way your cunt pulls taut at his words. The way a fresh load of your come dribbles around his cock and coats his balls when he makes fun of you, all taunting and mean.
M’sorry, you mumble pitifully, face hot where you tuck it into the sofa cushions.
“You will be,” he mutters. His grasp tightens on your hip, bunching the soft skin and flesh there in his fingers and using it as leverage to drag you back onto his length. “Can’t fucking think in there with you looking at me like that.”
M’sorry, m’sorry, again and again, bottom lip slick and swollen from biting down to contain the lewd sounds trying to slip out of your mouth.
The hand on your hip drifts over your ass, squeezing the flesh there to hold your cheeks apart, and then his thick thumb is prodding at your hole. Teasing you there slow, soft, while his cock pistons into you. You moan, trying in vain to wiggle your ass against him, begging for it without ever saying the words. Body screaming please, please, please.  
“There we go,” Simon goads, and you can hear the wicked glee in his voice. Deep and rough and elated. “Just needed someone to fuck you stupid, huh? Fill this tight little cunt ‘til there’s no thoughts in your pretty head, and all you can do is take it.”
Soon enough those tears spill. Hot fat rivulets that drip into your open mouth, onto the hot skin of your neck.
“That’s it,” he grunts. “Fucking cry over it.”
Wet sobs catch in your throat as he pulls you backward onto his cock, over and over again. He leans against you heavily now, using his weight to press you into the sofa so there’s no more room for you to squirm and wriggle in his hold.
But you turn your head. Let him see your eyelashes clumped together with tears, the drool on your chin. And just a glimpse of your face has Simon’s body shuddering. One of his knees buckles and he’s groaning, broad chest flush to your back, stilling inside of you as those dark eyes hold your watery gaze. You can feel him everywhere. The thick span of his thighs against yours, muscled stomach against your spine.
For a moment he just rests there – lets you feel the way his cock throbs and pulses deep inside your aching cunt – before he starts to fuck you again. Hot and heavy movements against your fluttering swollen hole. You whimper and cry out his name, begging and pleading for what you aren’t sure, and you know he must be grinning behind that mask from the way he laughs.
“Can cry all you like, love,” Simon mutters. “We aren’t finished ‘til I say we are.”
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Badge Bunny
Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader
Summary: Getting pulled over by one of Stark Counties finest turns into anything but a routine traffic stop.
Word count: 3.3K
18+ MDNI! Go on, get!
Warnings: Porn with a smidge of plot. Allusion to cheating (but not really!). Degradation. Oral (male receiving). Throat fucking. Spitting. Choking. Breeding kink. Size kink. Unprotected P in V (wrap it before you tap it!). Creampie.
Note: Thank you @starksbabie for keeping me motivated and constantly feeding the already rampant Gator thots! This one is for you you bb!
Badge Bunny Masterlist
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Making your way down the familiar stretch of highway you weren't paying attention to any of your surroundings, only looking forward to getting home after a long night. 
Headlights cutting through the dark, deserted fields on either side of the small 2 lane road. Nothing went on this time of night. 
You hadn't noticed passing the familiar truck parked a little off the road in the gravel alcove. 
Humming along with the radio lost in your own little world the sudden bright blue lights behind you hit your eyes from the reflection in the rearview. 
“Shit,” you hissed, but wasted no time pulling over on the shoulder, rolling down the window as you came to a stop.
You watched through the side mirror. He slowly exits his truck as if he had all the time in the world. Adjusting his pants and belt before making his way toward you. 
You noted he was missing his vest and usual hat. Black shirt tight across his chest and abdomen. His thigh holster was exactly where it always was, an accessory he was almost never without. 
He sidled up to the window. Leaning down, so he could see your face. 
“Evening, license and registration.” You couldn't roll your eyes any harder. 
“Gator, I really need to get home. What's your problem this time?” 
“Hey now, that's no way to speak to a deputy.” He tapped the badge strapped to his hip. Black gloves still adorn his hands. Pity. He did have nice hands. 
“Sorry officer, where are my manners? What seems to be the problem tonight?” You put on your best innocent sounding voice, biting your lip as you looked up to him.
“Well, looks like you were going over the speed limit. Wanna step out of the vehicle for me?” his hard ass attitude on full display. 
“Gator, seriously?” You deadpanned and rolled your eyes, but he didn't budge staring down his nose at you, maintaining his authoritative demeanor. 
“Come on…out.” Patting the side of the door for emphasis. 
Quickly realizing it was no use, huffing as he stepped back to make room for you to exit the car.  
He whistles low. Appraising your bare legs in the skirt you wore for work. Waitressing at the local bar has its perks. Nice tips for a little skin.
It didn't help that your tits were pushed up practically spilling out of your top. The only sensible part of your outfit was the converse sneakers to battle any fatigue from running around all night. 
“And where are you off to dressed like that? Your boyfriend let ya’ out of the house like this?” His eyes drifting down and back up. 
Closing the door, and leaning against the side of the car he inches closer as he spoke. Looking up at him from under your lashes growing more unamused by the second. 
“My boyfriend doesn't mind at all, especially when I bring home nice tips. We both know if anyone in this town looks at me wrong he'd kill’m.”
“Is that so pretty girl? Well, he's not here is he?” Making a show to look around at the deserted surroundings, smirking back at you. “Go ahead and turn around for me.” 
You scoff. “Gator, is this absolutely necessary? I may have been going 5 over the limit.” 
“Afraid so. Have t’make sure you don't have any weapons. Hands on the side of the vehicle. Go ahead.” Nodding toward the car.
You huff again but finally relent. Turning around slowly, placing your hands palm down; you'd been through this before, you knew the routine. 
He stalked his way up to you. Anticipation already prickling your skin. Your panties growing damp. 
His chest close enough to your back that you could feel the heat radiating from him even through your shirt. 
His lips ghosted the shell of  your ear when he spoke. 
“If that boyfriend isn't going to put you in your place I guess I'll have to. And the way you've been sassing me, little girl, I've got my hands full t’night.” 
He pulled back, removing his gloves one by one, throwing them in front of you on the top of the hood. 
Placing his hands on your hips, he moved his thigh close behind you as he kicked your feet apart. 
“Gator, come on. I don't have time for this tonight.” 
He didn't say anything, instead lifting his hands higher on your body. Resting on your breasts, squeezing slightly, as your breath hitched. 
He smirked to himself. Slowly dropping his hands down your body. Across your stomach. Down your hips. Traveling the expanse of your thighs to the bottom of your skirt. He paused, pinky grazing the bare skin there that sent goosebumps across your flesh. 
He dropped past your skirt. Drawing a hand up your inner thigh as you shuddered. 
Up, up, up slowly. 
His finger grazed the now sopping fabric. You bit back a moan, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as he pressed slightly into your folds, pushing harder when he reached your clit. 
“Haven't even fuckin’ touched you and you're soaked. Fuck” he hissed as he moved back up to your hips, quickly turning you easily to face him. 
Your hands landing on his chest to keep you steady. He pinched your chin between his thumb and fingers to force you to look up at him. 
“Get on your knees.” he ordered. 
You easily complied. Hands sliding down his body for purchase as you slid. Your knees hit the asphalt. Wincing as its harsh terrain dug into your knees. 
“Good girl.” the words going straight to your core. 
As always a glutton for punishment and adoring any praise he would send your way. 
Your mouth was salivating at the thought of tasting him. Without being told you popped the button on his pants, slowly sliding the zipper down.
“Fuck, look at you. Can't wait to get my cock in your mouth, huh? Been thinking about it all day?” 
He could be a mouthy bastard but God was he right. 
You licked your lips at the already prominent tent in his boxers. Pants falling just below his bulge that you palmed. He hissed, throwing his head back at the sudden contact.
Your fingers grazed the band of his underwear pulling it just a bit, just to let it go as it snapped back into place. His head turned back down to you. Eyes blown full of lust, irises no longer on display. 
“Go on. It's not gonna suck itself.” He nodded, urging you to keep going. 
Your hands pull down his boxers, exposing him fully to you. Cock springing free, teasingly so. The size of him never ceased to amaze you. He easily was the biggest you'd ever had the pleasure of handling and the cocky bastard knows it. 
Long and thick. Tip flushed the prettiest shade of pink with a small bead of precum just beginning to spill from his slit. 
You timidly placed your hand around the base as if you hadn't done it dozens of times before. He was hot and heavy in your palm. 
“Mmmmmm…. Fuck.” He sounded as if he was ready to combust on the spot. 
Wasting no time, you licked a long stripe up the entire underside of his shaft from base to tip as you heard him let out a low moan. He braced himself, placing his hands where yours had been planted moments before on the side of your car. 
You wrapped your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue just the way he liked, eliciting a whine from him. 
“Good fucking girl.” He groaned. “Been thinking about this mouth and throat all fucking day.”
You continued teasing the tip letting your hand pump his neglected shaft. You finally sank down, tip nudging the back of your throat. 
“Mmmmmm… Goddamn.” 
You pulled off of him with a loud pop. 
“Better not let your daddy hear that Gator.” You smirked to yourself. “Taking the Lord's name in vain. Especially while your dick is getting sucked.” You tsked. 
He weaved his fingers through your hair and gripped the back of your head, forcing you back to look at him. You winced at the sudden sting. 
“Still fucking sassing me? My cock not enough to shut you up?” He gave you no time to respond. 
“Open.” 
You obediently obliged, sticking your tongue out and flattening it to accommodate him, letting your eyes fall shut. 
Instead of his cock, spit hits the back of your throat. A look of shock passes your features as you look up at him under hooded eyes before a shy smile adorns your face. 
“Fucking whore. Swallow.” He practically growled. 
You close your lips and obey, a low hum of satisfaction escaping you as you swallow thickly. 
Watching your little display intently, he pumped his length a few times with his free hand, before gripping the base tapping your already swollen lips. 
Your lips part as his tip beaches the heat of your awaiting mouth. He quickly feeds you as much of his cock that you can manage. 
He doesn't give you time to adjust as he plunges deep, hitting the back of your throat. You try to breathe through your nose, letting him use you as he pleases. 
He steadies the hold on your head as he licks his lips. 
“That's it. Good fucking girl. Take it. I know you can.” 
You allow him to fuck your throat. You knew it would be sore in the morning from the relentless punches over and over. 
Your eyes were watering from the abuse, mascara running down your cheeks. You can feel saliva running down your chin.
You knew how you must look but he was looking down at you as if you were the most beautiful site he's ever seen. 
You timidly moved your hand up, reaching the edge of his boxers forcing them down even further. You wrapped your hand around his velvety sack weight heavy in your palm before tugging slightly. 
“Oh fuck.” His hips snapped, bucking into you even further as you gagged around his cock. 
He stopped suddenly, sliding his length from you. String of saliva momentarily connecting from your lips to his tip. 
“Get up and get in the back of the truck.” 
“But…” you were going to argue but the look in his eye told you he was done playing. 
“Now.” 
You quickly shuffled to your feet as he half covered himself to follow behind you. 
He knew this late at night, there wasn't any chance of someone coming by spotting the two of you in such compromising positions but just to be on the safe side he reached into your car to kill the ignition.
He did the same with his. Bright blues fading into darkness. Undoing and removing his holster placing it in the front seat, so it wouldn't get in the way for what he intended to do next. 
You opened the back door and slid yourself up into the cab. Legs dangling in the open doorway awaiting his next instruction. 
He came into view, slowly slotting himself in-between your thighs. Your skirt riding up to expose more of yourself. The way your damp panties were sticking to your folds, suddenly made you grateful for the dim light. 
His hands came to rest on the top of your thighs, squeezing. Thumbs rubbing soothingly in contrast to the way he looked like he wanted to devour you. 
“Lay back and take those panties off f’me.”
You rucked your skirt up higher above your hips putting your clothed core on full display for him. They were his favorite. Pink and lacy with a little white bow on the top, just like a little present all for him. 
He palmed himself, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he sucked in a sharp breath. 
There were no formalities when seeing him like this. It was hot and needy. Quick and dirty. 
You raised your hips, sliding your underwear down your thighs. When you made it past your knees, he slid them the rest of the way. Fingertips grazing your skin on the way down. You didn't miss the way he tucked them away for safekeeping in his pocket. 
You parted your legs as far as they would go with the limited space. 
“Look at you. Who's got you like this huh? Some trash at the bar make you this wet?” 
You shook your head. “No baby, it's you. Always you.” 
You place your fingers through his belt loops, dragging him a little closer.
“Greedy little whore tonight.” He laughs out, grinning at your eagerness. “Pull your shirt up and take those tits out.”
You do as you're told, pulling it up far enough to put your matching bra on display. 
“You wear this hoping someone would see? Huh? Such a fuckin' little whore.”
He can see your already pert nipples through the transparent fabric. He cups both breasts before pulling the fabric down fully exposing you. Not wanting to take the time to properly undress you, latching his mouth to one laving his hot tongue across your bud before taking it between his teeth biting down slightly as you moan and arch into him. 
His hand gave attention to the other, his large palm nearly covering the entirety of you before switching to do the same, so neither were neglected.  
“Fuck, these tits are so perfect. And all mine.” 
He nipped the skin, slowly moving down your sternum with hot opened mouth kisses as he finally sat back up. The cool air hitting the moisture left behind sending a small shiver through you. 
His fingers began to trail the inside of your thigh, inching closer to the spot you yearn for him the most. A whine escapes you as he watches you squirm beneath him. 
He runs his finger up your slit, lips slightly parting as he grazes your bundle of nerves that has your hips bucking on their own accord. 
He slips a finger into your entrance with ease at how soaked you are. 
“Of fuck,” your head lolls to the side. 
“Jesus, this pussy always this needy?” 
You just nodded as he removed his finger, making you whine, bringing it to his parted lips, sucking with an obnoxious slurp. 
“Jesus, you always taste so fucking sweet.”
Growing impatient, you watch as he finally takes his aching cock back out from its confinements. Now an angry shade of red dons the tip, leaking another pearly bead from his slit. He was even harder than before if that was even possible. 
He runs his tip through your folds, catching your clit. That had your back arching, gasping into the sensation. 
“Yeah, that's it.”
He lined himself up with your entrance, breaching slightly. Nothing ever prepared you for the size, always a stretch no matter how many times he had fucked you. 
It was something he relished in each time you were together. Knowing that no one else could fill you up like he could.
He pushed in. Slowly, inch by inch. Your mouth falling open. Toes curling in your shoes. 
Once he reached the hilt, he quickly pulled out and snapped his hips back into yours. Punching the air from your lungs eliciting a moan so loud you were sure someone the next county over could hear. 
“God you're so tight. I missed this pussy.” His face tightened with pleasure, mouth falling slack at the feeling of your walls practically strangling his cock. 
There was no preamble as he sets a near brutal pace, fingers tight around your hips holding you in place sure to leave bruises in their wake. Punching little uh, uh, uhs from you with each upward thrust. 
“That's it. That's fucking it. Who's pussy is this huh?” He growled down at you. 
Too dazed to realize he had asked you a question, already cock drunk, he stopped mid thrust grabbing your jaw forcing you to look up at him, applying so much pressure your lips formed a small pout. 
“I asked you a fucking question. Who's pussy is this?” He loosened his grip so you could answer as he began to piston his hips once more. 
“Yours. It's…mmmm… fuck, all yours Gator.” you managed to squeak out as he placed his thumb on your clit, rubbing lazy circles into the bundle of nerves. 
He moved his other hand, tightening it around your throat, pinning you there as your own hands grasped his wrist and forearm. 
He pounded into your sopping cunt. Eyes trained to where the two of you connected, watching as his fat cock moves in and out. Enamored with the way you took him so well.
His hard length ramming into that spot within you that only he could ever seem to find, over and over, as his assault on your clit never ceased.
He knew that look, your eyes closing in anticipation of tipping over the edge. 
“Yeah? That it sweet thing? You gonna cum all over my dick?” 
“Ahhhh,” is all you could respond. He loosened the grip on your throat slightly. He wanted to hear the noises he could pull from you. 
“Come on, my little badge bunny, cum f’me. I want to feel her grip me.” 
He removed his hand entirely, bending down close to your ear, breath hot on your neck. He braced himself trying not to completely crush you beneath him. 
“Be a good girl and cum. I'll give her what she really wants. Fill her up nice so everyone knows who this pussy belongs to. Make your belly all full and round. Everyone in this fuckin' town’ll know who you belong to. You want that? I know you do.” 
His mouth was good for one thing and the filthy words falling from his lips was all it took. 
Your orgasm hit hard, the sparks behind your eyes were blinding. You didn't have time to warn him as your pussy clamped down pulsing around him, trying to milk him. 
You found purchase gripping his shoulders, screaming his name as you came. Just the way he likes. 
He stopped toying with your clit to chase his own release. He wasn't far behind you, his thrusts becoming erratic. 
He spilled into you with a loud groan and a string of words, coming out so fast you barely understood, “fuck iloveyou ilovethispussy gonnafuckin’knockyouup fuck fuck fuck.” 
He continued a few more thrusts into your already overstimulated pussy before finally stilling. 
He practically collapses on top of you. Face planted in between your neck and shoulder, he stays like for a few moments until he's breathing normally again. 
He raised up, looking for any signs of distress from you. 
“Sorry, you ok?” A sweeter tone to his voice, as he kissed your cheek. 
“M’fine. You okay baby? Roy being a dick today?” You cooed, hand to his cheek, thumb rubbing soothingly there. 
He saved these late night rendezvous for days he had a particularly hard day at work. 
His usually slick backed hair was falling into his face, as he nodded. “Yeah, but I'm better now. Ready to get home?” 
“Ready when you are, big boy.” You smiled deeply at him as his lips met yours.
It was a slow, needy kiss. His slightly chapped, wind bitten lips melted into yours as you pulled him closer. The tenderness a stark contrast to the way he fucked you moments before. 
He pulled back, landing one more peck before raising up and letting himself slip from you. You winced, already missing the way he filled you. 
He helped you into your panties muttering “don't want any of that going anywhere.” As you rolled your eyes. Thank God for birth control. 
He took your hand and helped you from the truck, kissing your temple.  
“See ya’ at home sweet thing.” Smacking your ass as you walked ahead of him to your car. 
Yeah, Gator may have been a lot of things. A jerk, asshole, sometimes misogynist (which he was working on, thanks to you) but he only had eyes for you. His sweet girl. 
And you were right about one thing. If anyone else dared to look at you the wrong way he'd kill’m. God help the poor soul who got on the wrong side of your man on a bad day.
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celtic-crossbow · 1 month
Text
Blood Ties Chapter 29
Series Masterlist
Warnings: Slightly graphic depictions of labor and childbirth A/N: Maybe a cliffhanger. Maybe not. You'll have to read to find out! ;) Daryl is definitely ooc in this. I'm sorry, I tried to get as close as I could to how he might react. Also, the saying he uses is one we use in the south that means "how is that relevant?" You'll know it when you read it, lol.
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“About 4cm now. Progressing nicely.” Hershel informed, wiping his hands on a cloth that Carol had provided. 
Rick and T-Dog were out doing yet another night run in the van. It was also low on fuel but the map showed another town close by. Fuel, gloves, and other necessities were on the list. Glenn was on watch with Daryl for backup if anything happened. It wasn’t an ideal situation but it couldn’t be helped.
Thumper was calling the shots at that point. 
Before the men had left, Daryl had confiscated all the blankets except for those that were for Lori and Carl. When Glenn began to complain, one look from the anxiety-driven archer had brought the young man very close to hiding behind Rick. While some blankets were used for your comfort, others were fashioned into a tent-like structure over the bare branches of a decently sized bush. You needed some sense of privacy. 
Carol and Lori had dug through the maternity clothes that hadn’t been lost on the road and found a button up dress. It was comfortable and made things much easier than leggings. 
After your immediate needs had been met, Daryl then perched himself just beside your shoulder and hadn’t moved since. 
“S’the number we’re aimin’ for?” He asked with frustration lacing his tone, making sure the blankets were back over you and tucked tight to keep you warm. He had been muttering to himself how he wished he had made time to read the rest of the books. Daryl was not a man that liked being in the dark on anything. It made him feel helpless, as you had learned over the last several months. 
“She needs to be at 10cm and the baby needs to be in the correct position before she can push.” The old man positioned the ear tubes of the stethoscope before pressing it against several spots on your belly. “Heart beat is strong. Everything is looking good.”
You had remained quiet until that moment. “Do I just—I don’t know—lay here?”
“Walking encourages the cervix to dilate and soften. Once you dilate a little further, the contractions will likely be stronger, whether painful or not.” The calmness that man practiced really made you want to strangle him with that stethoscope. “Make sure you don’t go alone, and—”
“She ain’t.” Daryl snapped. 
Hershel shot him an admonishing look. “As I was saying, take breaks. Sleep when you can. I’ll check you periodically. You’ll need to keep timing the contractions, son.” Daryl nodded. “Sip small amounts of water, no food. Keep me informed of any changes. And as unpleasant as it may sound, if you feel the pressure and urge as if you may need to have a bowel movement, call for me immediately.”
You, as well as Daryl, reared back, lips curling. 
“The fuck that gotta do with the price’a fish?” The archer queried, not so nicely. 
“Settle down. The pressure from the baby’s head moving into the birth canal can feel similar to that.” Shaking his head, Hershel shuffled his way out of your tiny tent. 
Finally alone, you turned onto your side and scooted your upper body toward Daryl. He stretched out his legs so you could rest on his thigh. 
“Get some rest.” His hand wiggled beneath the blanket and rubbed up and down the length of your upper arm, but moved to your belly when another contraction took over. Without prompting, he slid his warm palm around to your lower back and applied the least bit of pressure, rubbing small circles. You buried your face into his thigh to ride it out, but you had to admit the light massaging helped, if only a little. 
“You’re supposed to be—” You were panting when you rolled your head to remind him, but found the watch already lifted to eye level, his gaze shifting from it to your stomach. 
“Sleep if ya can. I got this.” His brow was furrowed in concentration, your heart swelling and warm. Any worry you had entertained of him running when things got real, just gone in an instant. He was there. He was there. 
“I’ll try.” You whispered, the pain finally an afterthought. You felt him slide his hand back to the side of your stomach before you let yourself succumb to exhaustion. 
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“Sorry, Sunshine. Doc says up, so up ya get.”
You let Daryl take your dead weight and pull you up by a grip beneath your arms, making it as difficult as possible so you might get to stay in your warm little nest. You were still at 4cm. Hershel had said you had to start walking to help labor progress. 
“This isn’t fair.” You whined, rubbing your back once you were upright. The pain that accompanied each contraction had lessened but was still ever present. “Can’t you walk and I dilate?”
Daryl snorted. “Don’t think that’s how it works.” He placed a careful hand on the small of your back and kept your pace, slow as it was. 
“Okay, then how about if it gets worse, I kick you in the balls and punch you in the kidneys so you can participate properly?” You were only half joking. 
“If it gets ya through this, I guess.” The archer shrugged. You regarded him with a skeptical brow arched. 
“You’d really let me do that?”
“Hell nah, but s’the thought that counts or some shit like that, right?” He didn’t even try to dodge the smack you aimed at his shoulder. 
“You’re hilarious.” You deadpanned, even as you leaned into him while you strolled in circles around the perimeter. The moonlight caught the watch in his right hand, his finger tapping against the casing. Bless him, he was taking his role of supportive partner very seriously. You gasped when the next contraction came, stopping to bend slightly and breathe through it while Daryl secured an arm around you and flipped open the watch. 
When it was clear you weren’t falling, he slid his hand to the middle of your back and massaged the length of your spine using gentle pressure from the heel of his palm. He never said much—if anything—during the episodes themselves, but kept you informed of the timing of each one. 
“Oh, goddamnit, this one sucks.” You managed through clenched teeth. You swayed slightly when it was over, grasping blindly for the man next to you. 
“Thirteen minutes since the last’un. A minute, twelve.” He was slow and careful when turning you back toward camp. “Let’s getcha back to Hershel.” 
You shook your head. “One last loop, then we can go back.” Daryl didn’t say anything but you felt him tense. “I’m sure. They’re just getting a little more painful in the stomach, less in the back.” 
He still hesitated. “Alright. One more.”
Hershel stepped into your path before you started the second loop, allowing Daryl to fill him in on the last contraction. 
“Do one more. Rest. And then again.” The old man ordered curtly. 
Once he had vanished back toward the small fire, you mocked his words. “Rest and then again.” Daryl shook his head beside you. “I mean seriously, how much help can walking actually be?”
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“Fuuuuuck!” You were digging your fingers into the blankets below you, swatting away Carol’s hand when she tried to dab your face with a piece of cloth. Daryl was sitting beside you, wide-eyed and lost, the watch forgotten by his leg. Hershel was between your knees, sporting his medical gloves that had been brought back by Rick and T-Dog. 
The archer cleared his throat. “She alright?” 
“Do I look alright, Daryl?!” You hissed, making an admirable attempt at breathing the way Carol was instructing. The contraction finally ended and you fell back onto the folded blankets. “I’m sorry.” You found his worried blue eyes easily and fumbled for his hand. 
“S’okay.” He whispered, rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. 
“She’s at 6cm. We can still time the contractions but I think she may need your attention more than that watch does now.” Hershel reached for the item and placed it in his pocket once Daryl handed it over. “Keep moving but stay closer, no more perimeter walks.”
Daryl nodded, you whimpered. 
“I’ll be back soon to check again. If we’re lucky, things will move a little faster now that you’re in active labor.” Hershel left the tent while Carol fixed your dress. 
“I know it hurts, but you two will have little Thumper in your arms in just a matter of hours.” She smoothed your hair and tucked it behind your ears. “You’re doing great.”
“I don’t feel like I’m doing great.” You murmured, ducking your head almost bashfully. “I’m really sorry I snapped at you, Daryl. It just—well, it hurts and it’s hard to think.”
“Ain’t mad.” He tried for a half smile but it was weak. “Better than gettin’ kicked in the balls, I reckon.” You laughed and squeezed his hand. “Guess we oughtta getcha up again.”
“I’ll help.” Carol offered. You could see that a refusal was on the tip of Daryl’s tongue but he never voiced it. With Carol under one arm and Daryl under the other, you were pulled upright. 
Your body already felt wrung out and sore, and the epic finale hadn’t even begun. Still, you allowed Carol to pass you off to Daryl. 
“We movin’ on? Be better to find a house or somethin’.” He looped an arm around your back, following as you shuffled your way around. 
Carol shrugged, not touching you but keeping up with your small strides. “Both vehicles have fuel but Hershel isn’t sure we should move her. He thinks the baby will come soon and she needs to be kept in one place.”
You groaned, letting your head fall back in frustration. “She is right here. And if my opinion matters, I’d rather not—” The contraction came on strong, halting you suddenly with your hand fisting into the lower part of Daryl’s vest. The archer stepped around in front of you, rough but gentle hands grasping your wrists to guide your arms to his shoulders. 
“Try to breathe. Sometimes humming or even moaning helps, like an outlet.” Carol advised while rubbing your back. 
Your head fell forward against Daryl’s chest, a deep but quiet moan muffled against the firm muscle beyond his shirt. His hands had fallen to your hips, his body followed you as you swayed back and forth. The episodes were growing more intense, coming closer together and lasting longer. It wasn’t difficult to surmise that things would be growing more difficult to handle. 
“Ain’t nothin’ we can do for ‘er?” Daryl asked quietly above you, each word blowing his warm breath over the top of your head. Carol must have answered in the negative because his fingers flexed against your hips. 
The skin of your belly was pulled so tightly that you swore it would tear open, the muscles feeling as if they would pulse right out of the gaping hole your torn flesh would leave. 
“Shit.” You whimpered, your voice finding its way back during the last dregs of pain. You almost didn’t register warm hands gliding up and down your sides, a smaller hand on your back. “I don’t want to have the baby here.” You argued weakly. “It’s too open. Things will be too chaotic, too loud.”
“I know, Sunshine, but the doc says—”
“I don’t want to risk Thumper here in the open, Daryl. With—with walkers or people.” With enough strength having returned after the pain, you lifted your head, eyes pleading. “Please.”
The archer was visibly upset. He was just as vulnerable as you were at that moment, torn between what he felt was right and what Hershel said was for the best. His tongue wet his bottom lip before he pulled it in between his teeth, looking to Carol for guidance. 
“Could lay down the seats in the van. Use the back.” He suggested. “Plenty’a room an’ if we need to move fast—”
“I don’t think that’s unreasonable.” Carol agreed, rubbing your back in a few soft strokes before beginning to move away. “I’ll go talk to Hershel. You two keep walking.”
You watched her go, turning your gaze up to Daryl when he shifted back to your side to urge you along. “Gotta keep movin’.” You groaned, dragging your feet with your head falling back in frustration. 
You were in the middle of a contraction, when you heard it. A snarl, a raspy growl much too close. You were already clinging to Daryl and breathing through the pain that was readying your body for Thumper’s arrival, but you’d have to let him go. He had to protect the baby. And to do that, he had to protect you. 
But he didn’t move. He was nearly vibrating, rigid beneath your hands on his shoulders. He was just as scared as you were, even more so. He knew he could take the walker but that would mean letting you go. He needed to protect you but he wanted to support you. He had told you he'd never let you fall and you knew he had meant it.
“Go.” Your hands slid from his shoulders, down his chest before they released him completely to clutch your belly.
His boots disappeared from your view of the ground but you couldn’t focus after that. The pain was growing in intensity, immobilizing you with your lips tightly pressed to withhold the cries that vibrated behind your teeth for release. You couldn’t, you just couldn’t make a sound. You’d attract more, endanger everyone. You’d endanger Thumper. Daryl. 
There were scuffles. More snarls. Tears were threatening your waterline. Pain was coursing through you like a serpent, slithering around each muscle and tendon and pulling them tight. You felt disappointment and guilt over all the agony when your mouth fell open with a guttural moan, your will to cut off the scream that begged to follow barely holding true. 
“D—Daryl.” You cried out. And he was there, hands on your face, your biceps, your belly. 
“M’here. M’here. Gotta move, though.” He swept you up with the slightest strained noise. “Gonna getcha to the van. Gonna find somewhere safe for ya.” The pain was fading. You could focus on the dark blood on his face, the dirt and grime. 
“Herd?” You whispered. 
“Ain’t your fault.” His expression emanated fear and stress. “The hatch.” Someone was with him. The small hands that opened the back of the van and spread out the blankets, those were Carol’s. She sat a pile of smaller blankets and squares of fabric toward the indents on the floor where the seats had been stowed. 
“Get as many in the truck as you can! In the cab and the bed!” Rick was calling out at the same time that Hershel climbed into the van. Daryl was careful when he placed you inside, climbing over you before pulling you further in to make room for Hershel and Carol. 
Through your haze of exhaustion, you saw Rick climb in the driver's seat and Maggie beside him. That meant that five others had to somehow fit into the truck. 
“Is everyone okay?” You asked, eyes pleading with Daryl for an honest answer. 
“Yeah, they’re all good.” He nodded, smoothing a hand over your hair. 
The van was moving, though you didn’t realize when it had started. Hershel was between your knees when another contraction came. It felt like only moments had passed since the last one. In the safety of the van, though you couldn’t be bothered to consider that, you bowed forward with a scream. Daryl gingerly worked your fingers loose from the blanket to take your hand. 
“She’s at 9cm. This baby is coming soon.” Hershel didn’t move this time, he and Carol began sorting things that you couldn’t see. Panting, you leaned to the side, knowing Daryl would be there. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and squeezed. 
“What—” He swallowed audibly. “Tell me what I need to do.” 
“Just be with her.” Carol poured some water from a bottle onto a piece of fabric and passed it across you for Daryl to take. “Wipe her face, put it behind her neck.”
The archer’s hand was trembling fiercely when you felt the blessed cool cloth touch your forehead. The moan that left you was not one of pain but utter relief. “Oh, that’s nice.” You breathed. Your skin was on fire, every cell of your being felt twisted and wrong. But that trembling cloth wiping at your face grounded you, centered you around what your body was preparing to do. 
You were so close to being a mother. 
But that didn’t stop the scream that ripped from your throat when the next contraction tore through you. You sat up, propped on your elbows with your eyes screwed shut. Tears leaked from the corners, the wailing cutting off into wretched sobs when you felt Daryl’s forehead fall against the crown of your head, his mantra of m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry shattering you into a million shards. 
You couldn’t tell him it was okay. You couldn’t remind him why you hurt. You couldn’t reassure him that he was the one you wanted and you were more than happy to do this with him. For him. You didn’t have the breath. 
“Don’t push, Y/N. Not yet.” Hershel’s tone was even but not cruel, his gloved hands on your knees. 
“It fucking burns!” You shrieked, squeezing Daryl’s hand until you were certain you felt the bones shift. The contraction let up, the fiery sensation dulling but ever present. 
“What’s happenin’?” Daryl sounded breathless. Terrified. You were still catching your breath when you looked up at him. His tan skin was white as a sheet, no color in his lips. His blue eyes were brighter than you’d ever seen them. From tears or fear, you couldn’t be sure. 
“The baby’s in the right position. Y/N, it’ll be time to push soon. It’ll be very important for you to listen to everything I say. Can you do that?” Hershel wasn’t looking at you, between moving around things Carol was handing to him and keeping a constant eye on your progress. Distantly, you wondered why it was Carol at his side and not Maggie. Maybe because you were close with Carol? For your comfort? 
“Yeah. Yeah, I can.” You turned your attention back to Daryl when his grip on your hand loosened slightly. He swayed, the pallor of his skin growing more concerning. “Daryl?”
The archer shook his head almost violently. “M’good.”
“Okay, I just—oh, fuck, already!?” You grit your teeth as your stomach tightened, a visible shift beneath the fabric of your dress. 
“Maggie, can you climb back here?” Hershel requested calmly. His eldest said nothing but maneuvered her way into the back and on your opposite side. “I fear we may lose Daryl at any moment and Y/N will need support.”
“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Daryl snapped but it was a weak effort. He inhaled deeply and began squeezing your hand to keep you from dislocating his fingers. 
“Here.” Carol passed him an opened bottle of water. “Drink a few sips. You’re white as a ghost.”
You were barely aware of everything happening around you, shaking almost violently to refrain from bearing down until Hershel told you to do so. It was bordering on excruciating. 
“Jesus Christ, it feels like you’re holding a flamethrower to my fucking pussy!” 
Hershel sighed while Maggie and Carol chuckled and Daryl snorted out a quiet nice, Y/N. 
“It’s just the birth canal stretching to make room for the baby.” The veterinarian explained coolly. 
“Just?” You mocked. “Just, he says while it’s my—oh Jesus fuck!” With all the presence of mind you could summon, you managed not to start screaming at Daryl for putting you in that position. You knew that beyond the pain and fear, you wanted Thumper in your arms more than anything in that fucked up world. 
“Okay, Y/N,” Hershel patted your bare knees just at the tail end of the contraction to ensure he had your attention. You had fallen back against Maggie while Daryl held the cool cloth against the back of your neck. His hand was vibrating your skull to the point that you nearly asked him to move away. “You’re ready. On the next contraction, you need to push.”
“God, your calm voice makes me want to kick you in the teeth.” You didn’t mean it—mostly. Hershel must have known that because he chuckled. You could feel the next contraction already building when the van lurched to a stop, throwing everyone in it. 
“We got a herd in front of us!” Rick called from the front. 
“Go ‘round it! Turn ‘round! Just keep ‘em off us!” Daryl yelled as the pain peaked. “Fuck!” He bellowed when your hand began to shake with how hard you squeezed his own. 
“Push!” Hershel shouted over the bumps and jerks of the van doing whatever Rick had deemed best. “Good, good!” He began to countdown from ten while you screamed.
You were being torn open. Thumper was going to rip you in half on their way out. Your throat was raw, surely bleeding from your wails. When the old man reached one, you fell back against Maggie but Daryl’s hand was there too. 
“Maggie, Daryl, hold behind her knees. Help support her legs. It’ll keep her hips open.” Both moved forward, taking you with them to sit you up a little straighter. Daryl had to release your hand to hold you and your leg. The archer hissed with the pressure against his abused palm. “Perfect. Alright, Y/N. A nice, strong push this time.”
You almost snarled. “Last one wasn’t good enough?”
“Easy, Sunshine.” You felt Daryl's lips against your temple and yearned to keep them there. 
“I’m sorry, Hershel.” Once again, the man simply smiled. Lori had told you that childbirth in the movies was often dramatized but so far, you weren’t seeing the truth in that statement. When the contraction reached a crescendo, you leaned forward while Maggie and Daryl held your legs steady. The pain was extraordinary. You almost wished you could see what was happening, but any train of thought was derailed with Hershel’s next words.
“The baby is crowning!” 
Gasping, you swallowed hard, glancing at Daryl—who had a front row seat to what was happening—and then back to Hershel. “Crowning?”
“The head will be out soon.” 
“All this and we don’t even have the head out?!” You screeched, just as your stomach rippled into a rigid mound and you were pushing again. This pain was different. Thumper was definitely ripping you apart. “Fuck, fuck, fuck! It burns!”
“S’that—” Daryl cleared his throat and swallowed, swaying on the spot. “S’that normal?”
“Perfectly normal.” Hershel glanced up at the archer, back down, and then up again. “Carol.” He needn’t say anything else. The other woman was moving to grab the back of your leg and let Daryl fall against her so he didn’t smack his head on the side of the van.
You were completely unaware, your entire focus centered on the inferno between your legs. There was no way any woman would willingly do this unmedicated. Never in your life had you wanted drugs more than you did in that moment. Thumper. Thumper, Thumper. You chanted internally, even as your vocal chords vibrated harshly with your screams. And just as you thought you would lose consciousness from the pain, it lessened. It hadn’t disappeared but comparatively, you would take that over the prior. 
“The head is out!” 
Panting, you smiled but then fell into confusion when you saw Carol beside your leg and Daryl slumped against her. “Daryl? Daryl?!” You shifted but Maggie held you still. “Is he okay?”
“He’s fine.” Hershel chuckled. 
“Who knew a man that could gut a walker without batting an eye couldn’t watch his baby’s head come out?” Carol smiled but began to act, jerking her shoulder to jar the archer. “Daryl. Daryl, wake up. You don’t want to miss this.” He stirred and started to lean back. “Think you can take a look without losing it again?”
“Shuddup.” He shook his head hard, grunting. His hand was the first thing to move, sliding beneath Carol’s to take hold of your leg. Then he was looking at you. “M’sorry. That was—fuck, m’a pussy.” Maggie was moving your hand and pulling you forward as you watched your partner. 
Then your fingers were touching a soft, albeit slimy, head. 
You gasped. “Daryl.”
The man gulped, but then sat up on his knees a little. You watched the fear and apprehension melt away into awe, his jaw loosening, eyebrows rising, and eyes beginning to shine. “S’that—”
“That’s Thumper.” You were able to say before Hershel announced your miniscule break was over. He didn’t need to say a word, your body was already letting you know. Daryl’s hold felt stronger now and he was watching with an awestruck intensity that just made your heart want to explode even as you rode out the waves of agony. You were going to be a little family.
Then, out of the blue, you could feel something was different, wrong.
“Her—Hershel—Ow, fuck—” You fingers clawed at Daryl’s chest, his wet eyes going wide with concern. The contraction ended and you were gasping and swallowing convulsively, feeling nauseous regardless of your lack of food. Daryl’s eyes were darting back and forth between you and the old man. “Daryl, something—something’s wrong.” You could tell the baby had not moved an inch during the pushing, but not only that, it felt like they had actually pulled back toward your opening. 
“I know.” Hershel’s voice had lost the calm and was taking on an emergent edge. “The baby is stuck.”
Panic flashed over Daryl’s face in the form of anger. “The fuck ya mean stuck?!”
Still trying to catch your breath, sweat dripping into your eyes, you thought for certain Daryl was going to jump across your leg and attack the old man. Thankfully, he remained at your side. Trembling and breath stuttering, but he wasn’t moving. 
“Shoulder dystocia. The baby is turned in such a way that the shoulders can’t fit through the pelvis. Carol, I will need your help, please.” You were already on the edge of the next contraction when Hershel nearly barked “Y/N, don’t push.”
“What the fuck’re ya doin’?” Daryl snapped, leaning over your leg to investigate. So many emotions were battling for dominance in his expression that you couldn’t even begin to imagine how he was feeling.
“Daryl, please.” You pleaded, trying your hardest not to sob. For once, you cared nothing about being self-reliant or what the group thought of you and how much you needed Daryl. As you fought through the pain and against your body’s natural insistence to push, you just cried. Daryl kept a hand below your knee, too afraid to move unless Hershel gave the okay, but he leaned as far as he could to hold you without influencing your position.
“S’okay, Sunshine. S’gonna be okay.”
“Y/N, listen to me. I can feel the shoulder.” Now, the veterinarian’s tone was just downright frightening. “Maggie and Daryl are going to pull your legs back on the next contraction. I’m going to apply some pressure above your pubic bone. It’s not going to be pleasant, but if I’m correct, the head should come and then the baby. I need you to push with all you have, do you understand?”
You pressed your cheek further into Daryl’s chest and nodded, hiccuping through ragged, exhausted breaths. When the contraction began to tear through you, Maggie and Daryl reacted immediately, pulling your legs toward your belly while you curled inward with a guttural scream. Hershel pressed into the area just above your pubic bone, the pressure only compounding the whirlwind of pain you were already caught in. And then it was over and you let the two supporters take your weight.
The van rocked again, but was ignored. Hershel looked at Carol gravely and shook his head. 
“S’that ‘bout?” Daryl hissed, trying hard for your sake not to lose his cool.
“It didn’t work.” Before Daryl could speak, the old man continued. “We’re going to try one more time. If it doesn’t work, there are a couple of other things we can try but time is of the essence. The baby isn’t getting the oxygen they need like this.”
“Whatever ya gotta do. Just take care’a both’a ‘em.” 
Hershel nodded. “Alright, same thing, Y/N. A big, big push for me.”
You shook your head, exhausted. “I can’t.” You whispered, your eyelids heavy as hope attempted to flee and you accepted that once again, the world would take from you. It would take from Daryl. “I’m so tired.” You felt movement beneath your left leg and then Daryl’s hand was grasping your chin, firm but gentle. 
“Hey. Cut that shit out.” He wasn’t angry. He was using the same tone you’d heard him use when he had told Thumper to cut you some slack. When he had started communicating with the baby. “Ya’ve gone through hell an’ back for this an’ I ain’t lettin’ ya quit at the goddamn finish line, ya hear me?”
“I’m tired, Daryl.” Your face screwed up in pain as the next contraction began to build.
“Nu uh. Ya ain’t gonna bust into my life an’ fuck up my world six ways from Sunday, make me love ya an’ this kid, an’ then just give up. S’you an’ me an’ Thumper. S’what ya said!”
You blinked at him, slowly starting to sit up.
“I’ve seen ya be a badass before, Sunshine.” Your breaths were coming faster, the contraction nearly on top of you, but you only had eyes for Daryl. “Be a fuckin’ badass now.” His hand left your face and went back to your leg, pulling it toward you at the same time Maggie moved the right one. 
You screamed so loud that you were certain the rocks and bumps of the van were due to your wails alone. Something shifted, you felt it and it hurt. You were on fire and aching at the same time. When the contraction ended, you still felt painfully stretched and bruised and uncomfortable. “Did—did it work?” You panted, grasping desperately for Daryl’s shirt.
“The head is out, the shoulders are turned. One more big push, Y/N. Just one more.”
You breathed harshly through your nose, trying to amp yourself up. Maggie and Carol were throwing encouragement your way, but you didn’t hear them. You only felt Dary’s breath against your ear, his stubbled cheek rubbing against your skin.
He whispered, only for you to hear. “I love ya.” Kissing your temple, he moved back to his spot and when you looked at him, exhausted and crying, the corner of his mouth twitched and he nodded.
You could do this.
When the next contraction ripped through you, the world went silent. It was only you and the pain, white hot and all consuming. You were indeed being torn in half but if it meant Thumper would take that first breath, would open those little eyes to see the world—fucked up or not—then you would gladly be wrenched into pieces. 
The moment the baby slipped free of you, you felt the emptiness. You still hurt, but the worst of the pain was suddenly absent. Sound and sight came back to you in an onslaught that had you sucking in a breath like your lungs had been starved. 
“Is—Hershel, the baby?” You asked, trying to move as Daryl and Maggie lowered your legs. The archer was leaning across your knee. You couldn’t even tell if he was breathing, but his eyes were wide and darting. 
“Doc—”
The ferocious first cries of the distraught newborn echoed throughout the van. Maggie had moved behind you to keep you sitting up while Daryl had staggered backward and fallen on his ass against the interior wall, eyes on the little thing that Hershel was looking over intently. Maggie reached over your shoulder and began unbuttoning your dress, whispering in your ear as she moved.
“The baby needs to nurse, bond with you on your skin and it’ll help when you have to push out the placenta, okay?” You blinked at her, concerned. “It’s okay. It’s nothing like what you just went through. One or two small pushes and it’s out.”’ You nodded robotically, watching Hershel maneuver some sort of tape around a slimy cord.
Thumper was not happy. They were probably cold and that thought made your heart ache. Your baby should never be uncomfortable. Daryl was slowly, clumsily making his way toward you, but wasn’t taking his eyes off the baby. When he was sitting beside you, Hershel finally leaned over you and placed the squirming, slippery baby on your chest.
“Congratulations. You have a daughter.”
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princessmaybank · 1 month
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hi princess, I hope your break is going well <33 this is like super specific but could you do a jj x Routledge!reader with super blonde frizzy hair nd jj doesn’t know she dyes it brown until he walks in on her with a lions mane getting dye ready
No pressure at all for u to get to this, i love ur work so so much and I hope you’re going okay princess <333 thank you
thank you for the request! wasn't sure if you wanted smut in there but that's how all of my Fics end up so I'm assuming you do! I'm sorry this turned so dark if you wanted it fluffier. I have recently started Haunting Adeline 😂🤭🩷
Hair Dye
Pairings: JJ x Routledge!Reader
Warnings: Surprise Kiss, Fingering, Rough!Dark!JJ, Spanking, Panty Ripping, Hair Pulling, Choking, P in V, Creampie, Caught, etc.
Summary: Read the ask^
Author's Note: Wrote this so fast, I hope you like it, sorry it's so late!
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"I just don't see the point, dad and I have brown hair, you got blonde hair, you should feel special!" John B says as I walk down the aisle searching for the color I want. "That's exactly the point JB. I feel left out. It's odd, plus people have asked us way too many times if we're dating, even though we have the same face." JB rolled his eyes in defeat as I found the shade of brown I was searching so hard for. I was so excited that I could barely wait until we got home.
"Hey JJ is coming over soon!" I hear JB yell from the kitchen as he puts away some groceries. "I expect nothing less. Your boyfriend basically lives here!" I laugh as I go into the bathroom and read the instructions. Once I think I finally have it down and the parts mixed together, my brother calls me into the kitchen. "I'm gonna start cooking dinner. Is there any way I am going to talk you out of this? Blonde hair takes a long time to come back." He says and almost on cue JJ stumbles in the front door. "And yet yours keeps coming back." I say throwing my thumb over my shoulder. He chuckled at my stupid joke and ruffled my hair, causing it to frizz up even more than it already had.
"Hey there, hot stuff." JJ said with a wink. I roll my eyes before walking to the bathroom. "He was talking to you!" I shout teasing JB about his best friend. "I definitely wasn't but okay. What's with her?" I hear him ask my brother. I put the gloves on and get a towel ready under my neck. "She's going to dye her hair. I kept trying to talk her out of it. Fuck, I forgot something at the store. I'll be back, try not to kill each other." I heard the screen door slam as John B ran out.
I heard loud footsteps coming from the hallway until they reached me. "You're not gonna try to talk me out of it too are you?" I say setting down the bottle of dye. "Not gonna try shit" I breathe out a sigh of relief. "You're not doing it." He demanded. "Who do you think you are?" I ask with a full attitude. "Y/N. You don't need to dye your hair." I shook my head. "I want to!" I whined. JJ went to grab the bottle of hair dye and so did I. Eventually he tore it from me and held it above his head. I wasn't able to reach it and he laughed because he thought he had won. I looked him in the eyes and took his face in my hands, planting a big kiss on him. when his lips moved back and forth with mine, I knew he'd drop his arm any second. And he did. I took the chance and stole my bottle back running to the guest bedroom and trying to make it to that bathroom. I wasn't aware JJ was right behind me until I was pinned against the bathroom door.
"Why must you be a little brat all the time?" He asked. JJ's eyes are dark now. This wasn't a game anymore. He removed the bottle from my hand, I let him take it because I was so stunned by this sudden change. "You're. Not. Dying. It." He said with a low menacing voice. "Jay-" I tried to plead, I don't know why, but he was scaring me. He was also kind of arousing me. I never had these feelings for my brother's best friend, maybe it was just how dark he felt in this moment.
He stared into my eyes before placing his lips to mine once again. It felt different this time, I felt a zing, coursing through my veins. His fingertips were now bruising my hips as he lightly humped me through our clothes. This felt unreal. I peak my eyes open for a moment. Yep. it was still JJ. He was still grabbing me with an intense force and grinding his rock hard cock into me.
My eyes shut again and I just went with it. His right hand moved to unbutton my shorts. When he found his way in, he didn't tease, he only plummeted two fingers into my soaked core. "He won't be gone long, if there's something you want from me..tell me now." He demanded again. My eyes stared into his begging to be fucked but I knew it wouldn't be that easy. "F-fuck me.." I whispered through my breath, unable to think as his fingers moved back and forth. "Speak up." His harsh tone scared me slightly but I said my phrase again, louder so he could hear.
His fingers escaped my opening, causing a whine to spill from my lips. He rolled his eyes before pulling my shorts down. I kicked them to the side before I was roughly turned around and slammed up against the door. A gasp flew out of me unexpectedly followed by another when I felt him slap my ass. I let out loud moans as he continued, taking turns with my cheeks. When they were blood red, he squeezed them in his hands. I hissed from the sensitivity he caused.
He toyed with my panties for a few seconds before he spoke. "You don't need these." He chuckled lightly before I heard a ripping sound. Shock was written all over my face as he tore the rest of the thin fabric off of my body. His fingers found my slick folds and teased them for a moment. I was about to chime in before hearing the sound of a zipper and shorts dropping to the ground. I didn't have enough time to process the noise before I felt his cock slide inside me. He let out a dark groan and quickened his pace, not letting me adjust to his size. He was going so fast and so hard. I was a moaning mess. My head started to fall but he didn't let it get too far. His hand pulled me back by my hair while his other wrapped around my throat. His fingertips squeezed tighter, not giving me much room to work air in or out. "You like that? Like my hand wrapped around your throat while you take my cock?" He asked and all I could do was give a small nod before he pulled my hair again, so now my ear was against his lips. "What would John B say if he walked in on us right now? Think he'd be pissed to see his sister with my cock jammed in her tight pussy?" He teased.
Those words were enough to cause an eruption in me. My orgasm hit me like a freight train and slid down his cock and onto his thighs. His hand left my throat and fell to my hips as I pulled in as much air as possible. He fucked me hard a few more times before his cum leaked inside of me.
The sound of the screen door opening and closing apparently wasn't enough to get JJ's dick out of me. My throat was tired, I couldn't mutter a word and JJ knew that. He rode out his high which made my eyes roll back. It was enough for me to squeeze my thighs together and cum again.
"JJ when I said anything, this is not what I meant!" JB shouted. We never even heard him walk in, but we heard the bedroom door slam. We cooled down and I went into the bathroom to inspect my neck. There were bruises where JJ had a hold of me. "What did he mean by that?" I asked. JJ was a lot brighter now. "Oh he messaged me before you two got home and told me to make you not dye your hair. He said to do anything I have to." He chuckled. "Wasn't planning this.." He said pointing to my neck. "But I'm glad it happened." He shrugged and kissed my forehead. A smile spread onto my face before I laid my head on his chest. He held me in his arms and I promised to never dye my hair.
"Good, I like pullin' on this blonde lion's mane." He giggled before I swatted at his chest.
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stararch4ngelqueen · 6 months
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Early Morning Nightcap
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Time Written - 9:48 a.m
Jason Todd/fem!reader smut (Bite me, I like when they make Jason look rugged an “ugly,” he is very gorgeous to me 😭✨)
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Jason always tries his best to be as quiet as possible when he comes home in the early hours of the morning.
Exhaustion weighed down his entire body, heavy feet treading through the bedroom door, his mask dropped onto the nearest surface, not harboring much care to toss his jacket somewhere along the ground. Settled under dark, tussled blankets was his sweetheart, hugging his pillow close to your face, breathing in his scent for comfort when he was away.
Silent as he could attempt to be, given his large stature, the heavy dip of the mattress makes the frame creak, lightly shifting your sleeping body as he crawls into bed beside you.
Fully awake or dead asleep, nothing would stop him from grabbing your thighs, yanking your panties down your legs to bury his tongue deep into your cunt. You must’ve been in the midst of a very nice dream, leaving you all wet and sticky to Jason’s utter delight. Sucking your clit has you writhing out of sleep, hips involuntarily thrashing against his greedy mouth, grasping along your ass to keep you as close as possible.
Low mumbles escape his throat while he reinforces his grip, lapping you up as if he hadn’t drank anything for hours throughout his entire patrol.
You would spew out all your whiny little whimpers and pleas of his name, your fingers making a quick mess of his hair that was nearly matted down by his hood before. Like that was going to stop him. The sting of your nails rasp along his scalp as you came to climax only urged his eagerness to fuck you since he walked through the door, his cock begging to be freed from his tactical pants.
There’s no effort to wipe the mess off his chin once he sits up, promptly kissing you before you had a chance to sit up, urging you back down to bed. He could drink up all he want from your sweet folds, knowing you’d be gushing again in seconds.
You mew his name in between heavy kisses, tasting yourself on his tongue as his broad body spoons yours, trapping you in a shadow of security by your eager boyfriend. Bare skin pressed against warm carbon armor plating, gloved hands slipping under your shirt to palm your supple tits.
“Please babe, I need you,” Jason pants desperately in your ear, lifting your leg up over his holstered thigh, quickly working himself free from the damn confining zipper.
He bites his left glove off with his teeth, rolling two fingers along your pussy before stroking your sensitive folds to lube up his fingers, fisting his cock a few times.
“C’mon baby, c’mon, let me in. Fuck— let me in,” he rasps against your neck, the head of his cock brushing along your slippery folds.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he curses heavily once the head of his cock pops through your tight, quivering walls. The delightful stretch of your walls taking in every hot, girthy inch draws out a rich groan deep from his chest, melding perfectly with your whimpers. “God, That’s my girl. My good fuckin’ girl.”
Large hands grip your waist at the sides, your face fully flushed and gasping with each persistent rut of his hips. His throbbing cock thrusts deep inside your warm cunt, his dirty boot bracing against the mattress for additional stability, a mess the two of you can worry about much later.
Jason peppers you with praises in between multiple sloppy kisses, licking up beads of sweat along your skin as he tucks his chin against your neck. With each praise came a sting of bitter impatience laced in his tone, blunt nails harshly digging pretty crescents into your hips, rocking you back harder against his cock with no struggle, amplifying the sounds of your sloppy wet cunt swallowing him whole.
Exertion caused sweat to dapple along his forehead, primal, intimate desire coming out through hot pants and guttural grunts along your collarbone. Your shirt stretched thin from his persistent grasping at your bouncing tits, your heart drumming rapidly against his thick palm as he clasps hold of your neck.
A short symphony of sharp curses murmured against your lips in between each hot, heavy kiss, the constant rattling of his jacket buckles mingling with the headboard drumming against the wall.
“You’re so perfect, Keepin’ nice an’ wet f’me.” Teal eyes boring deeply into yours, coaxing orgasm after orgasm with each rut. His calloused thumb over your perky button, ensuring your walls squeeze him a little tighter. “Were you playin’ with yourself after I left? Heh, got myself a dirty little whore.”
Trembling fingers cling to blankets, bedsheets and his lightly bulging forearm, your mind running on blank from Jason’s relentless pace, mercilessly bullying his cock against your sweet spots.
He hushes against your cheek when you’re brought to hot, pleasurable tears, fingers finding rough purchase along the harness belt along his waist for leverage. “Shhh shh, c-can’t sleep without filling ya. You’ll let me do that, won’t you?”
His rugged, no patience attitude changed in seconds, leaving him a pleading mess of a man trembling against your body, feverishly moaning against your neck. “Please baby, please lemme fill this perfect little pussy, lemme stuff you full f’me.”
His words nearly melt together in his haste to beg further, quickening his abuse via bullying your cervix and pumping you full of cum. He halts once when his breathing hitches, damp hips spasming while wrapping his arms tightly around your body, rocking you down on his dick.
“That’s it,” he grits out, squeezing you tighter against his burly figure, clutching your plush thighs with an ego boosting satisfaction flooding throughout his exhausted body, properly fucking his girlfriend full.
The sun would shine over an exhausted couple, your overstimulated body stuffed very full with crescent marks and bruises the size of your boyfriend’s fingertips dappled along your hips.
You’d wake up delightfully sore from the awkward position his arms held you in, making Jason irritably stir from his two hour slumber to your overstimulated whines, your flushed cunt desperately squeezing around him as if to push him out.
To your dismay, he clicks his tongue by your ear before rocking his hips once, his slowly hardening cock brushing directly against your g-spot. A ‘minor’ warning of what’s to come.
How mean of you to improperly wake him after an exhausting night of patrolling Gotham. What kind of needy, impatient girl do you think you are?
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lustlovehart · 7 months
Text
Genre: Nsfw (Afab Reader | No Pronouns)
Warnings: Oral (F receiving), He has a forked tongue, Semi-public(Neuvillettes Office), overstimulation, multi orgasms, gets a little fluffy at the end.
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Neuvillette invites you to join in on his water tasting hobby, but instead of him taste testing water, he’s taste testing you.
He has you splayed on his desk as he greedily drinks you up with his long forked tongue, quaffing your essence down his throat as if he was a thirst ridden man who hadn’t drunk water for centuries.
At this point, even though you’re not tied to the desk, it feels as if you’re bounded to the surface, with the way your body can only writhe in pleasure at his advances, your mind so far gone you cant even think anymore. You’ve came at least 4 times already with his tongue, and you’re sure he still wants more from you.
He tightens the grip he has on your thighs, his gloved hands being a barrier between you and him, the leather material preventing him the direct skin to skin contact he wants.
His tongue feels like it’s reaching deeper than it did before, his thumb massaging your clit in circles as he keeps devouring you like its his last day on earth. A knot starts to tighten in your stomach, fingers racing to pull on the Ludex’s long hair. Your throat is hoarse as straggled moans come out your mouth, trying your best to be quiet so Furina won’t hear from across the building.
“Neuvillette…!” You can’t help the squeal that comes from deep in your throat when he replies to you with an ‘mm?’ The low sound causing a vibration to go through you. “Too… Too much…!”
“I know dear, just one more…” his breath sounds heavy, as if he was to busy pleasuring you to focus on breathing. Before you knew it, the knot deep within your core had come undone on his tongue, white filling your vision as your eyes roll back from the pleasure. Even at your climax he could stop drinking from your body.
The moment your orgasm had reached his taste buds, he immediately sped up, not wanting to waste a drop of what you had given him. His tongue greedily licked up the leftovers of your essence, further driving you over the edge.
"Are we... Finished now...?" Your breathing was ragged, different heavy exhaled and inhales filling the silence of Neuvillette's office.
He was the ludex of Fontaine, despite the circumstances he wouldnt possibly lie would he?
Life seemed to lie to you as well, with the way he so convincingly said one more time you believed him, only to be proven wrong by the countless other 'one more' times he proclaimed.
"Neuv...Ilette.. You liar..." you struggled to even think of the words to speak, your mind was insanely numb to your thoughts.
"I'm sorry my dear, it would be an extreme injustice to me to never properly taste you in a way you would enjoy as well"
"Ju-justice...? What are you talking abou- ah...!" The familiar feeling had returned to your lower half, the tightening of your entrance immediately catching his attention. He sped up his advances once more his tongue practically fucking you itself.
Moans are all that leave your lips as your realease on his tongue, this oragsm being even more powerful than the last, but that might just be because of how overstimulated you really were.
His lips finally left your body, strings of your climax sticking to his chin, his lips glistening from the left overs of your essence. Your left essentially dazed from reality as you lay tired on the man's desk. His blue eyes stare admiringly on your body.
His once gloved hands are now naked, his fingers tracing into your skin. He takes your body off of the surface of his desk, sitting you in his lap as his fingers play with your hair.
"In my own eyes, serving you is the highest justice I could ever ask for."
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konigbabe · 1 year
Text
heavenly sin
Pairing: RE4!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader
Word count: 3.4k
Tags/warnings: smut (pure unfiltered filth, no plot); voice kink; p-in-v sex; unprotected sex; female gendered anatomy; female masturbation; fingering; cunnilingus; established relationship; no y/n; references to Christianity and ferocity; extensive wordplay
Summary: It's been known that Leon is one kinky bastard.
A/N: Written as part of my A to Z kinks game. N is for narratophilia aka being aroused by sexual storytelling.
Tried something a little bit different to explore my knowledge of English. A wordplay of sorts (I basically threw random words together in hopes that it'd make some sense). Bon Appetit.
masterlist • navigation • faq • AO3 • ko-fi
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“You enjoying yourself?” As Leon discards his gloves, casting them aside like insignificant relics, you feel the pillow crumple beneath his weight. A testament to the force of his being. The air feels sizzling hot, thick with heat and suffocating in its intensity. “If I knew my words would get you so riled up,” his other hand cups your breast, thumb circling the erected nipple and watching as goosebumps rise over the sensitive skin, “I’d do this much sooner.”
It started as a joke, a fleeting spark in the sea of banter. Leon’s flirtatious nature entwined in perfect harmony with his tender heart.
Fresh out of the shower, your heart longed for the man whose sudden departures have become routine. A standard in your life.
The sun made its final descent below the horizon, the sky painted in shades of amber and gold – the bedroom awash in a warm and inviting glow, as if every object was kissed by the sun's final rays. The light filtered through the sheer curtains, creating patterns on the floor that danced like flickering flames.
And in the midst of it all, Leon's call came through, cutting through the stillness.
The conversation began innocently. Calling to let you know he’ll be home soon. It was as though his tenderness was butterfly's wings, fluttering in your chest and making your heart skip a beat.
His sincere words slowly spilt over into something else. Something more. Something promising.
It’s now that the phone lies next to your ear, and Leon's voice, like a silk ribbon, unwinds into your consciousness, stirring a deep and primal desire within you. Building the anticipation need inside you.
“After that, I’d bent you over the table. You’d already be naked and dripping,” Leon’s voice a song of Solomon, “but I’d be far from done with you.”
A gasp, soft and quiet, escapes your parted lips. Every fibre of your body, every cell is set on fire. The setting sun casting flames over your naked skin of yours. Flesh burning. Body wrapped in a cocoon of passionate flames – your palm pressing against the sensitive nub, the pressure light as a feather. Slow, languid strokes of your fingers follow Leon’s words.
Muscles tightening as the pressure keeps adding with each sentence. Slow and steady. With a pace of a gentle stream. Dipping one finger deep inside your slick walls, only to stop when you reach fully inside.
A stream of docile moans flows from your throat.
“Just to feel you take my cock. Hear those gorgeous gasps as you beg me to give it to you,” hand gripping the messed-up sheets underneath you, squeezing tight as you add another finger, curling them upwards.
“Rough, just how you like it. Pretty sure we’d break the table,” Leon’s words are accompanied by a light chuckle, hiding much more sinister and vivid ideas inside his head.
The way his name rolls off your tongue makes him cuss. Your voice carries the weight of longing, desire, and devotion. Making Leon wish to finally be home.
“Fuck. Could spend all day between those lovely legs of yours.” Leon’s voice descends to a low murmur, tinged with raw, feral hunger.
With a touch as tender as a butterfly’s wing, thumb circling the aching nub of nerves; it ignites a wildfire of ecstasy within your body. As you lightly graze your opening, feeling the softness of your slick walls, a delicate gasp escapes your mouth, akin to a prayer of submission to this moment of pure passion and pleasure.
“Just to taste that pretty pussy of yours on my tongue.”
Leon's voice pours into the phone, rich and sinful. You hear the front door open with a soft creak, the sound echoing through your body. He's finally home, his presence filling your senses with a heady aroma of musk and lust, a tantalizing potion that you can't resist.
He gazes at you with eyes like storm clouds brewing with desire. The air is thick with the scent of sex and your yearning, hanging in the dimly lit bedroom, resembling a heavy fog. You keep your gaze locked with his, transfixed as Leon strides in, his figure outlined by the glow of light seeping in from the hallway.
You don’t stop–
–instead, your fingers delve deeper. Nails grazing the tender walls, the slight discomfort only adding to the pleasure. Like a deer caught in headlines, your eyes stay on his.
The sound of your slickness echoes in the room as you thrust in and out, unconsciously matching the rhythm of Leon's steps – left in, right out, left in, right out – a dance of carnal desire.
And just like that, he stands on the side of the bed.
Leon’s eyes gleam with a fierce intensity. A perfect blend of predatory sensuality and effortless ease. With the grace of a pather; clad in a black henley shirt, the first two buttons undone, exposing the slight curve of his clavicles. It molds to his chiseled form as though it was a second skin, making Leon exude a primal magnetism that draws you closer to your high.
Spellbound by the scene in front of him – by you; fingers deep inside, eyes glazed over with orgasmic ecstasy as your work yourself to your high.
The air is thick with the sweet scent of your desire, a heady aroma that fills his senses with an overwhelming urge to indulge in your rapture.
He steps closer, placing one knee on the bed. The mattress creaks under his weight, but his gaze never leaves yours. It's as if you're the only person in the world that matters to him right now. The heat emanating from his body is palpable, and you feel your heart race as his presence commands the room.
“You enjoying yourself?”
His tone is low. A seductive purr sends a wave of electricity through your veins. Hot like molten lava. Dripping like honey, sweet and luscious. They linger in the air, coating everything around you with a sticky warmth.
His name leaves your lips in a deep sigh. Soft walls squeeze your fingers.
As he discards his fingerless gloves, casting them aside like insignificant relics, you feel the pillow crumple beneath his weight. A testament to the force of his being. The air feels sizzling hot, thick with heat and suffocating in its intensity.
Leon’s arm flexes, the sinewy muscles bulging when put to work. Your eyes lock onto his, drinking in the raw masculinity and primal allure of his being. A contented moan escapes your lips, an instinctive reaction to the overwhelming sensuality of the moment.
“If I knew my words would get you so riled up,” his other hand cups your breast, thumb circling the erected nipple and watching as goosebumps rise over the sensitive skin, “I’d do this much sooner.”
His towering form casts a shadow over you as he leans closer. Lips so close you can almost taste the desire that emanated from him. The heat of his breath dances across your skin, making your senses swirl in a dizzying haze of lust; igniting a fire that burns with the intensity of Samson's strength.
“Wanna gimme a kiss?” he whispers, his lips almost brushing against yours. You’re still able to feel the soft graze of the plump skin atop of yours, sending a fluttering sensation to your heart.
You can't help but feel intoxicated by his voice, each word rolling off his tongue with a silky smoothness that sends shivers down your spine. It's almost like he's casting a spell, using his voice as a weapon to ensnare you in his grasp. And you willingly surrender, caught in the web of his honeyed words; like Delilah, powerless to his will, swept away by the power of his seduction.
Lips grazing his, you push your face upwards to be closer. The kiss is both gentle and fierce; a tantalizing dance of lips and tongues that leaves you breathless and wanting more. The taste of him a mix of mint and spice. You stop the movement of your wrist between your legs. Stilling, feeling the wet squeeze around your fingers, your mind becomes a blank canvas, a vast expanse of nothingness.
The taste of him lingers on your tongue as he pulls away. Thick fingers wrapping around your wrist, he nudges your fingers out of you. A displeased grunt leaves your lips at the sudden emptiness. Only to have your breath stop; watching as Leon brings your hand, fingers visibly sticky with your juices, tongue swirling around the tip of your index finger before taking two of the fingers in his mouth. It’s as if he’s tasting the forbidden fruit, savoring the flavor of your arousal like the sweetest nectar.
Feeling the wet tip of his tongue swirl around your fingers, you can’t help but let out a soft moan. The rough texture brushes over the pads of your fingers. Licking every drop of you off of your fingers, leaving them clean before he licks his own lips.
“Missed that taste.”
His eyes never leave yours, dark and intense with desire as he slowly releases your hand.
“Missed you almost that much too.”
His words wash over you like a warm embrace, seeping into your pores and settling deep within your bones. As his body moves over yours, his hands glide across the burning expanse of your skin, tracing patterns of passion that leave you breathless in anticipation. The soft touch of his lips on your navel sends ripples of pleasure through your body, each sensation building on the last until you're gasping for air.
Leon sinks to his knees at the end of the bed; his movements smooth and graceful. Years of never-ending training left him in full control of every muscle. Arms sliding underneath your knees, he holds you firmly as he grips your hips with unyielding strength.
A single tug. Confident in its prosecution. He brings you to the edge of the bed, your glistening cunt hovering in front of his face. The sight of him there, between your legs, both captivating and overwhelming.
The wet tip of his tongue peaks from within his kiss-bruised lips.
Before you know it, you’re completely undone. A mess. Leon's tongue turns your body into a temple of pleasure; his movements sinuous and calculated. With each flick and swirl of his tongue, he's coaxing you to heights of ecstasy.
His tongue traces every inch of your throbbing cunt, flicking and teasing your clit as you squirm beneath him, one hand grasping his soft hair while the other squeezes your breast. His fingers, thick and rough, plunge deep inside of you, finding all the right spots to drive you wild. Each thrust of his hand sends jolts of pleasure through your body, making you moan and writhe with need.
"Such a fucking filthy little thing," he growls against your skin, the heat of his breath making you shiver. He devours you with his mouth and hands, taking you to the brink of ecstasy and back again; fingers scissoring and pumping, working you over until you're a quivering mess of desire.
The blunt pressure of the tips of his fingers pressing mildly against your inner walls sending pinnacles of bliss across your body until you’re mewling at the sharp pleasure that ripples down your spine.
You claw at the sheets, unable to control the waves of sensation that crash over you.
And then, with a final, shuddering gasp, you let yourself go, your body convulsing in waves of pure pleasure. Ecstasy; Leon’s name a sweetened melody on the tip of your tongue.
He stands up afterwards, a towering figure before your eyes. Your aching legs fall from his shoulders onto the bed. Leon looms over you, appearing almost god-like, a divine being sent to ravage you with its passion.
Disposing of his shirt, you lay on the bed motionless, senses on high and in anticipation as you watch the man strip. With every article of clothing that comes off, Leon’s body reveals itself in all its glory. Shoulders and chest sculptured, shaped by years of intense training. Someone who’s worked hard to achieve such a physique. Rippling muscles that flex with every movement he makes. His arms thick with veins and biceps that bulge with raw strength, capable of holding you up effortlessly. You can see every ridge of his abs, each one chiseled to perfection.
“Enjoyin’ the view?” he rasps after ridding himself of the last article while you shamelessly stare at Leon’s sheer size and the strength of him.
“Very much,” you breathe out when he crawls on top of you.
His cock rests atop your stomach, heavy and pulsing with need; leaking as he marks you in his precum. Yet, neither of you moves. Unbothered, you remain locked in his gaze before his lips capture yours in a short passionate kiss. Drawn together by the irresistible pull of gravity, your lips meet in a collision of desire and longing.
Legs wrapping high around his waist, his hand leaves the side of your neck and travels the side of your body, igniting a trail of heat as it goes. Leon strokes the length of your thigh, only stopping when his fingers rest under your knee momentarily. Then you feel the blunt tip press against your aching cunt. The anticipation inside you unravels like a tightly wound spool, releasing a flood of sensations that spreads throughout your body.
“Ready?” he breathes out; his warm breath tickles your skin as his lips brush against yours once again.
The silky texture of his hair brush against your fingertips. Legs tightening around his upper body, you pull him closer to you. “Yeah.”
The pressure against your throbbing cunt intensifies as Leon presses forward. The crown of his cock splits you open with ease, enveloping him. Welcoming him eagerly in your wet heat. As if he belongs there.
Leon’s touch’s electric, sending shivers down your spine as he claims you with each bite and kiss. His teeth graze your chin, softly nibbling at the skin as he lets out a guttural grunt. Keeping one hand on the side of your neck, possessive and tender, surely to feel the rapid pulse of your jugular vein, he hooks his thumb underneath your jaw and pushes upwards.
When your head is tilted upwards enough to his satisfaction, his lips latch on the front of your neck. Small, quick bites decorate the stretched skin. Followed by a wet kiss, he sucks on the skin. Vulnerable and exposed.
Moans cascade from your lips, an ode to his cock splitting you apart slowly. A divine intrusion into your depths, filling you.
He stills when he’s buried balls deep inside of you; bottoms out in your quivering walls, slick with post-orgasmic arousal.
The feeling of fullness, of being completely filled, is almost too much to bear. Your breath hitches in your throat, body trembling with pleasure as it strains to accommodate him; to make enough space to take him in.
Your eyes flatter shut as he waits, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck while his hand cups the underside of your breast with his thumb teasing your nipple in a leisurely manner.
A moment of content falls between you. Bodies molded together; two halves of a whole.
After a few seconds, you press the sole of your feet into his skin, feeling the taunt muscle contract underneath you.
A subtle but unmistakable gesture. A wordless plea for more.
A fuck me of sorts.
Your body speaks volumes, a language he's learned to decipher. And with a low growl, he responds to your invitation. A low roll of his hips. A test of your readiness. It becomes a measured beat that tests your strength, the pressure of his cock firmly pressed against the walls of your cervix.
It has you sent into a harmonious frenzy.
Leon continues with the rhythm. Relishing in the tight squeeze of your cunt, in the way you sing for him, his name a sacred hymn on your lips. Your body responds eagerly to his touch, every nerve ending on fire as pleasure courses through you.
His hands sear a blazing trail on your burning flesh. Every touch feels as if he’s branding you, etching himself onto your skin.
The wetness of his lips causes goosebumps to raise on your skin. Moving like a reverent prayer. Worship of your body as his tongue swipes over your sensitive nipples.
Your name escapes his lips and is met with a low moan.
Tantalizing and peaceful.
Leon’s unhurried movements slowly transform into something more. Rough and hasty. Teeth nibbling at your jawline, feeling the bone underneath the skin, your nails bite into the tight muscle of his shoulder blades. Surely to leave indents that will bloom into bruises and marks. Your back arch, offering yourself up to him as you focus on meeting his thrusts.
As his hand wanders down the length of your body, his fingers dance along the curves of your waist and hips before grazing the globes of your ass; giving it a rough squeeze before wrapping his fingers under your knee and pulling away from your neck.
Meanwhile, his other hand braces his body weight by your face. Leon’s fingers entwine around your ankle. Pushing your leg up and over his shoulder, you moan over the painful stretch of your hamstring as he gazes at you.
He moves with a frenzied urgency. Lowering himself to rest on his elbows, his fingers find their way to your clit.
The way he flicks over the sensitive nub elicits a series of moans and cries from you only to be silenced by his lips crashing onto yours.
The kiss is wet and messy. Hungry. Both of you eager to take and dominate, his tongue dancing with yours in a frenzied manner.
It's like he's a man possessed, lost in the rhythm of his movements and the feel of your body beneath him. You writhe and moan, lost in a haze of sensation and desire as he takes you higher towards that ultimate release. That sweet orgasm. Every motion is a symphony, a perfect blend of power and finesse, as he explores the contours of your body with a deep hunger.
Mind becoming blurry, your senses are consumed by the raw, primal desire Leon elicits with his thrusts. Moving to brace himself better, it feels impossible when you feel the blunt pressure hit even deeper than before. Gasping, you move your hips, trying to take him as deep as possible.
The smell of sweat and sex fills the air, and you can hear the sound of skin slapping against the skin as Leon moves with increasing speed and intensity. His determination to tear you apart only grows each time your hips meet, sending bolts of electricity throughout your every cell. His thumb flicks over your clit, applying pressure and circling the aching bud until you’re quivering underneath the mass of a man above you. Inside you.
The sound of his grunts and moans blends into a symphony of pleasure, each note building up the tension within you. You feel like a volcano on the brink of eruption, bubbling with molten passion until it finally snaps. Erupts.
A tidal wave of pleasure washes over you. Sweeping you in a vortex of delight. A thousand stars explode in your mind, each one brighter than the last, painting your vision with vibrant colors. Your body convulses, spasming in rhythm with the waves of pleasure that ripple through you.
Gasps leave your lips. Desperate for air, you cling to Leon, whose thrusts never wavered. Whose fingers continue to tease your clit, now throbbing and exploding with sensitivity. His eyes lock on yours, lips parted with low moans escaping from between before you bring his face down to you, swallowing each cry of pleasure but eventually, he pulls away.
You watch as Leon’s eyes snap shut, brows furrowing in pleasure as he stills. His full length buried inside of your spasming cunt, filling you up with his cum.
Your body’s spent. Yet your mind’s still reeling from the sheer intensity as Leon remains buried inside; his breath ragged and uneven before he pulls out with measured slowness, teasing your oversensitive clit with a gentle tap. You shudder at the sensation of him trickling out of you.
“Hi.”
The simple word leaves your mouth in a breathless whisper. A mere welcome that was meant to be addressed when he first entered your home instead of now. A warmth spreads through your body, settling low in your belly as you take in the sight of him; the way his blond hair falls across his forehead, resembling a halo of an angel. Cheeks tinted in light pink and lips curved into a small smile as he looks at you.
“Hi.”
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candyfloss5000 · 24 days
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Stillness
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Pairing: CX-2 (clone assassin) x AFAB reader
Notes: this is smut yall. The first smut I've ever written so don't you dare bully me 😭 (don't expect a masterpiece). I'm desperate for CX-2 fics so I wrote this.
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"Cuyir su." His native tongue slips past his lips, a gloved hand grasping tightly at your hip to keep you still after you tried to grind agaisnt him. Be still.
You’re straddling him on his desk chair, he's buried deep within you, rock hard but not moving, just using you to keep him warm while he writes his reports. A shaky sigh passes your lips and you rest your forehead agaisnt his chest that's rid of his cuirass for once, leaving his top half only in his body suit. When he's sure you're not going to move again, he loosens his hold and subconsciously strokes his hand up and down your side, relishing in how you shiver from even his lightest touch.
You lift your head from his chest, only to nuzzle his neck, placing the occasion kiss. After a minute, your kisses turn more hungry. Open mouthed and not afraid to lightly nuzzle your canines into his throat. His hand wonders into your hair, as he tilts his head to the side to provide you better access. He loses himself for a moment and let's you become his every thought.
"Cyar'ika." The hand in your hair tugs you to lean back from his neck and face him. "Be still. I can always just take what I want and leave you to satisfy yourself. Is that what you want?"
You shake your head with a pout. The threat is seemingly empty. The pair of you already have limited time together and you both relish in every second of it. He wouldn't leave you high and dry without knowing the extent of time he'll be away from you next...Would he?
A shudder runs down your spine at the thought, as you wrap your arms around his waist and hide your flushed face in his neck. A low groan rumbles from his throat when he feels you clench down on him.
For a while, you settle. You don’t know how long. He answers a few times when he’s hailed on his commlink, giving orders in the same calm, professional tone as he would any other time. As if he doesn’t have you on his lap. As if he doesn’t have to repress a groan at every involuntary flutter of your inner muscles. 
Your hand finds its way underneath the hem of the top half of his body suit, subconsciously raking your nails across his toned abs and feeling how they tense. You know better than to ask if you’re allowed to cum yet, so you do your best not to move, even though arousal is pulsing in your core and you feel so wonderfully slick and full.
The day has taken it's tole on you and you can't help the way your eyelids droop. You drift in and out of sleep, all with his cock still in you. Still filling you to the brim. Beyond his prominent arousal, CX-2 feels a soft pang in his heart at the sight of you so content with him, so peaceful. The assassins takes pride in how easily you let your gaurd down infront of him. Since he has no memory of the man he once was, he can't remember a time where someone didn't fear him or try to make him fear them. He needs you just as much as you need him.
CX-2 is drawn from his thoughts when he feels the soft roll of your hips agaisnt his pelvis. You sigh and nuzzle closer against his neck. The datapad thuds agaisnt his desk and his bare hands - when had he taken his gloves off? - grasp your waist, holding you down to start grinding at just the right angles into your soaked core.
You give a shuddering, grateful moan, suddenly wide awake. Fuck, it feels so good to be so close to him, to have his cock thick and heavy inside you, knowing that no one will ever compare to him. Your assassin.
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Three for One 4
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.
Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale
Note: How are these getting longer lol
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. Take care. 💖
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You wriggle helplessly as the man straddles you. You kick your feet into the carpeted floor and grunt into his palm. He’s strong and heavy but you can’t give up. And if you can’t win, you won’t make this easy.
He plants his hand between your shoulders, pinning your chest as he leans his weight on you. He grunts as you shift under him, pushing your knees into the ground as you try to bounce him off. You only manage to awkwardly press your ass into his crotch.
“Hey, stay fucking still,” he squeezes your jaw, glove still flush to your mouth, “and shut the fuck up.” You open and close your teeth, trying to find a catch. He snarls and squeezes you between his legs, “are you trying to bite me again? What the fuck?”
“She’s fucking feral,” the driver tosses over his shoulder.
“Shut up,” the man on you barks back, readjusting to one knee as he brings his other over your back, replacing his hand with his leg.
He fumbles around as you try to see anything in the dim of the van’s compartment. His hand slips as his other comes around, a piece of rough fabric rubbing on your cheek. He pokes it into your mouth with two fingers and you nearly gag on the dry wool.
“Shhhh,” he hushes you, “balls, she’s hard to put down.”
“Wasn’t my first choice, trust me.”
“Who let that jackass have final say?” The man over you grumbles.
He drags you with him and reaches above you. You see the edge of the roll of tape as he keeps you trapped under his knee. He swiftly sticks the tape over your mouth so you can’t spit out your gag. Next he grabs your wrists and pulls his knee away.
You tug on your arms, resisting as you keep up your fruitless flailing. No, no, no. You’re not going to just roll over and give in. Get off!
He forces your arms together, winding the end of the tape around your wrists, again and again, until they’re bound taut behind you. He’s panting almost as hard as you are as he plants his feet, standing half bent over you beneath the low ceiling of the fan.
“Damn, well, I didn’t expect her to be so fucking stubborn,” he snickers.
You flip over and shoot your foot up, straight into his crotch. He chokes on his laughter and drops the tape. He cradles between his legs and falls to his knees. He croaks as he catches himself on one hand.
“Goddamn it, you bitch, I was half-cocked,” he contracts as if he’s about to vomit.
You puff through your nose and bend your legs, curling back on your shoulders and using your weight to throw yourself forward. You roll onto your feet, the momentum lifting your ass up but not getting you all the way up. You try again and get one foot and one knee under you.
“What the fuck’s going on back there?” The driver asks as the van rocks with your movement.
“Nothing,” the other man groans and sits up, “nothing at fucking all.”
He swipes his leg across yours and has you slamming back to the floor, this time landing on your shoulder. You grunt and twitch at the jarring pain on your joint. He grabs your arm and hauls you closer. You’re both breathless as he retrieves the tape and fights to bring your ankles together.
He secures your ankles and lets you go. You lean on your hands and watch him as he sits back and swipes his hair away from his forehead. In the small cloud of light from the front of the vane, you see the angle of his jaw and the shaved side of his head.
“God,” he puts his hand over his pants, “I feel that in my throat.” He shakes his head, “don’t worry, pussy cat, you will too. I’m gonna be so fucking deep–”
“Ugh, dude,” the driver mutters.
“Don’t be a fucking prude,” the man stretches his leg out and nudges you with the toe of his boot, “we all know what the hell this is.”
You close your eyes, holding back the hot glaze of tears. You inhale deeply, trying to calm your nerves as they cluster in your chest. A million questions race through your mind but you can’t bring yourself to even imagine the answers.
🎀
The van idles in one spot. You temper your breaths as you listen. The driver gets out as the man in the back with you picks his nails with a knife. He started brandishing a while back. Does he really think you aren’t already scared out of your mind?
There’s some sort of grinding nose and footsteps in the gravel coming back to the van. You move, trying to see the front as the driver gets back in, slamming the door and jolting the entire vehicle. The other man pokes you with his toe, his way of warning you.
“Fucking gate,” the driver mutters as he shifts back into gear and leans on the gas.
You garble around the fabric in your mouth, not making much noise as you wiggle and turn to look at the other man. He yawns and examines the long blade, only a shadow as the darkness invades the van. There’s not much light around to colour the world.
“Almost there, pussy cat,” the man teases, "Merry fucking Christmas… well, I think we still got a few hours before the clock tolls.”
You let your head loll. He’s so annoying. Maybe it’s just the situation or that he’s obviously a very bad person, but he irks you so much. Years of working with the general public and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this much detest for one person. Usually you could just shrug it off and go onto the next. Right now, you’re quite literally trapped.
The van follows what feels to be a curving road, bumpy as it jostles you against the rough carpet. Your adrenaline ebbs and flows as your eyes flutter one moment only to flick open wide the next. The tire treads mulch the snow, slowing, and stops again. It’s almost pitch black as the van shuts off.
The man in the back stands, you feel it in how the axle bounces. He comes close, boots edging along your side as you sense him close. The door slides open behind him and lets in the moonlight. He bends and grabs your feet, turning your body and dragging you towards the door.
You kick but can’t free yourself from his grasp. He shoves your legs down harshly and pulls you up by the front of your coat. In a second, he has you slung over his shoulder as he turns to the other man.
“Where is he?” The man holding you asks as you squirm. He has his arm hooked around you as his other hand comes up to pinch you, “pussy cat, you don’t start wagging that ass unless you want me to punish it.”
You still, stunned by the suggestion. He’s so gross. You whimper as his shoulder presses uncomfortably into your stomach.
“He’ll be here soon. We should get her inside.”
“We should throw her in the snow and see how long she lasts,” the man sneers, “she’s not as nice as he said.”
“We can deal with that,” the other assures.
A flashlight clicks on. You can’t see anything past the man’s jacket. You bounce on his shoulder as he carries you across the uneven ground. He trails the second man as you hear several electronic beeps and the whir of gears. 
A door opens on cold hinges. You’re taken through a doorway as the night air follows you inside. The flashlight’s glare flicks around, illuminating the edges of your vision but offering little more. You hear a click and an overhead light suddenly casts brightly all around you. Still, you can’t see around the man who has you in his grasp.
“Put her in the room,” the other man orders.
“I got it. Don’t act like you’re the boss.”
“Take your own advice. My fucking house.”
“Yeah, and I got the van. Oh, I also came up with the plan, so I’ll say we’re even.”
“You talk a lot.”
The man holding you scoffs, “rich, coming from you.”
“Just like everything else about me. Go on. We gotta wait for him. Figure this shit out.”
“I got it figured out. Strip her down and show her what’s what.”
“We agreed to wait,” the other man insists.
“Oh, so he’s in charge?”
“No, you know he isn’t. I just think… what he said made sense. Go fucking put her in the room so we can talk real shit. I can’t focus with her ass in my face.”
“Tell me about it,” the man slaps your ass and kneads, “it’s like two inches from my mouth–”
You writhe and let out a hollow whine through your nose. He chuckles and falls into step. You lift your head up stiffly as he passes the other man and you meet his eye. You’re not sure if you know him but your gaze falls to the autumnal hued scarf around his neck. You know that scarf.
It can’t be. First Alan and now this guy. This is a conspiracy. It has to be.
You watch the floor change from slated hardwood to patterned carpet and again to dark teak. Down a hall and into another room. Only the light from outside limns your vision as you’re flung from over the man’s shoulder onto an unseen bed. You gasp at the soft mattress, expecting much worse.
“Pussy cat, you stop your hissing and pissing,” he warns as he backs up to the doorway, the light giving a better look at his features, “I’m gonna get to you. Count on it.”
You groan at how the tap chafes your wrists and the smell of the adhesive below your nose. You blink and focus on the man’s silhouette. You think you know him too but you’re not sure. That tuft of hair on his lip seems familiar. Before you can find the memory, his image is blocked out by the door and you’re plunged into sheer darkness.
This can’t be happening. You can’t be here. You have to get home. Who’s going to feed Ernie?
🎀
Your eyes slowly adjust to the dark but you can’t see much. There is not hint of a window to let in any light or even a slat to leak in under the door. More eerie than the deep blackness is the dearth of sound. You can only hear your own breath and the soft squeaks that slip out at your most fraught.
The walls block out anything beyond. That alone is oppressive. If you weren’t tied up, if you weren’t gagged, could anyone even hear your screams?
You wiggle, roll and writhing across the breadth of the mattress. You reach the edge and rock yourself until you can sit up. You inch over the side of the bed until your feet meet the floor. You lean your weight on them and brace yourself.
You’re already out of breath with the effort. You stand, swaying as you struggle to balance on your bound feet. Your knees buckle as you lean this away and that until you can straighten yourself. You hop forward, once, twice, and again. You turn yourself towards where the door shut.
You stagger as you land a bit too hard and you twist, hitting your shoulder on the wall. You huff and puff as the tap grows slick around your lips, the cloth make you gaggle. You sidle, arm again the wall and the handle hits just above your wrist. The metal leaves a thrumming pang in your flesh.
You pivot and lean your back on the door frame, grasp the handle between your hands, sweaty palms struggling to get a grip. You turn this way and that, each time meeting resistance. You squeeze tight and sake yourself and the handle as a croak escape your nose. You didn’t expect it to open but it’s still a defeat.
You slide down to your ass, bending your knees before you as your hands rest behind you on the floor. You hang your head and measure your breaths. You’re not just scared for you, you think of your poor puppy waiting for you. Of you never going home to Ernie. That sparks the fuse to full panic.
You ball your hands to fist and slide down onto your arm. You wriggle down to your back, lifting your legs to the door, setting your boots on it. You pull back and kick, the bang jarring you. You do it again. Harder. You won’t stop. They can’t just leave you here. They can’t ignore you.
A thump comes from the other side. A warning. You kick back, even louder. No response.
You’re exhausted, but you keep going. You kick until your damp with sweat and your legs ache. You bring your feet down over over and until you can’t any more. Then you lay in the blind silence, a sob trapped behind the gag.
Ernie…
You’re almost delirious. Disbelief, fatigue, adrenaline, you’re not sure which. There’s a beeping and a metallic grind. The door shifts, hitting your bent legs as it tries to open. A grunt comes from the other side as the push until you’re forced a few inches up. A light radiates over your suddenly.
You stare up at the white glass shade on the ceiling. The door shoves you further and further. A figure enters and looks down at you. A heavy sigh that tickles your brain. You know it. You look up at that man, Alan or Anthony, as he shuts the door.
He bends to pick you up. He takes you to the bed and puts you on your side. You let him. You can’t do anything else. He puts his hands on his hips as he looks you over. He sits cautiously on the edge of the bed.
“I’m sorry, honey, I hope they didn’t hurt you,” he caresses your cheek and you wince, “I told them to be nice. Wish I could’ve come with you but… I had to sort some things out.”
You bat your lashes, eyes widening. He cooes as pets your hair. “It’s okay, don’t be scared.”
His fingertips brush along the edge of the tape and he slowly peels it away. You groan as he tugs at the corner of the cloth and frees it from your mouth. You cough, your throat raw and dry.
“I can untie you but you have to promise to be good. You don’t want to hurt yourself, do you?”
You close your eyes and nod. He crumple the tape and you hear him place it down. You suck in a deep lungful of air and let out a scream, “HELP!!!!!!!!”
“Hey,” he hisses and quickly smothers your mouth with his large hand, “honey, don’t do that.” He squeezes until you’re quiet, until your jaw aches, “no one can hear you.” He leans over you as your eyes flick open and meet his, “not even the others. Right outside that door and they can’t hear you.”
You search his face. Stern and somber. He looks honest but you would’ve said the same back at the store when he lied to your face. You nod and go limp. Despite his deceit, you believe that.
He reluctantly drags his hand away, “I want to untie you, okay? I don’t want you to be stuck like this all night but if you’re bad, the others… they won’t let me.”
You don’t say anything. You stare past him, to the crux of wall and ceiling. You don’t care about the others or about this man. You only care about one thing.
“I know you’re confused and probably angry. This isn’t a bad thing, okay? We’re not doing this to hurt you, honey,” he rubs your shoulder, “we want to help you. To give you everything you want. Do you really want to spend Christmas alone?”
You rasp as you breath deeply. You wet the roof of your mouth with your tongue then your lips. You keep your eyes averted as you muster your voice.
“You’re married,” you accuse, "you have a family."
He clicks his tongue, “and? You have no one.”
That stings. A deep cut you feel deep in your gut. Your eyes meet his sharply and you pull your shoulder away from his hand. You push your chin out defiantly as a heat rises behind your eyes. You might be alone but it doesn’t mean you’re unhappy. Still, the way he said it…
“That’s not true, I have someone.”
“Honey, don’t lie. I know you don’t. I know you live on Fort Street in that square yellow building. Apartment 325. Just you. It’s a bachelor at the corner–”
“Stop, stop,” you beg him. “How do you know that?”
“Does it matter how?” He says lowly, “Honey, i’ve been nice, haven’t I? If you’re nice, I’ll stay that way and I’ll make sure the others don’t hurt you.”
You crinkle your nose and give a fearsome snarl you know must look ridiculous. You don’t care about these men or what they want. You don’t even care about yourself. 
“I do have someone,” you insist, “Ernie.”
“Ernie?” He echoes.
“My puppy,” you hiss, “and I’m not going to be nice–” You grit the last word through clenched teeth, “unless you take me to him right now.”
“The dog?” He wonders.
“He needs to be fed and walked. I’m his mama and I need to see him,” you demand, your emotion finally bubbling up to the surface, “and until you take me home, I’m gonna… I’m gonna…” You dig your nails into your palms and let out a shrill shriek. The blood curdling type you hear in horror movies.
The man covers his ears and stands. You do it again as you bounce on the bed. You must look crazy but you don’t care. Maybe if you’re crazy enough, they’ll let you go. You suck in a third breath and scream even louder.
He grimace but doesn’t stop you. He backs up and stomps to the door. You keep going until it locks behind him.
They think you’re weak because you’re alone. You’ve worked retail, you can handle a couple of psychos.
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suguru-getos · 1 year
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yandere genshin characters x punishments (gn! reader)
warnings: yandere themes, mdni, mentions of emotional, sexual abuse, isolation, manipulation, degradation.
a/n: feeling dark sorta way 😈
characters included: scaramouche, ayato, diluc,
scaramouche: things with him range from getting minor chidding for being mouthy to a full blown rage fest. he is scared of hurting you physically knowing the intense power he holds. plus— it isn’t very good to hurt the people we love; right? all he wants is to protect you. keep you safe and sound. not his problem that you can’t understand what’s truly, undeniably good for you. uses isolation as his weapon. you would be locked in, spoiled with your favorite food, on time. but you aren’t allowed to see anyone, not even him… one week in & you are already vulnerable & folded. the silence is tearing your eardrums apart. there is nothing you miss more than to be held by scara. to talk to him…. to be with him & listen to him spoil you. so the next morning when he comes to you with food, you break down. big fat tears rolling through your cheeks as you hug him, shoulders dropped low and anxiety folding you. “please— kuni, please don’t leave me alone, i don’t like this,” the break in your voice almost breaks his heart. but he knows you need to learn your lessons. and sometimes, not in the most desired of ways. “good little angel, sssh~” he cooes, kissing your forehead. “but i want to really, really know if you mean your words. let’s make it another two days hm?” the look of betrayal in your eyes is soon swiped away, when he leans in and kisses you softly, but his will & decision unshakable. maybe after another two days, you will understand how much, you are lucky enough to have someone like him tend to you, always.
ayato: ayato has two sides, one that is ever so gentle, kind, tolerant to your antics. the other… is the side that you never want to see; the spoiled, belittling brat side to him. “surely you must know by now why exactly you are treated like a whore?” ayato mused, watching your naked sex stuffed with a dildo that was of his size. “do you even deserve to be touched by me rather?” he sits in front of you, it’s been literal hours you have been forced to cockwarm the toy. tears prickling into your eyes, you whine out & bite your lip. all of this because you decided to tell ayato that he isn’t deserving of you, that you’d rather be a slut to any man that be his lover. because ayato is selfish, self-centered & narcissistic. and you— almost had enough of it. ‘almost’ until you saw this side of him. the side drenched with cruelty and mania. “yato-“ you cried out, “uh uh uh? what did you say?” you immediately flinched at that statement, correcting your words, “waka sama- i’m sorry, i’m sorry— please!” it felt a little too overwhelming, overbearing, with how he sat next to you, tending to his official matters until he decided it was time to take a break. you almost forgot that ayato loves you, sickeningly, disgustingly but he does… feeling smaller, and smaller. almost insignificant in front of his wrath. “i’m sorry—” you managed to mumble one more time, knowing completely well it was not what he wanted to hear. “i will never go to anybody else,” that got you a change of his look. he was looking at you with softened eyes, almost reconsidering his idea of punishing you any further. scoffing at your statement, his gloved hands removed the toy from your drooling sex, kissing it softly. “good little thing,”
diluc: the wine tycoon of monstadt was already intimidating to everyone. coursing fear and respect through everyone’s veins whether they wanted it or not. all you had to do, to feel the same anxiety from his otherwise warm presence was to go out of dawn winery, and get yourself surrounded by cryo slimes. why would you never understand that you. are not. allowed. to step. the fuck out? diluc didn’t talk to you, he didn’t want to hurt his angel by words, or by actions after he safely protected you. but his aloofness was killing you already. truth be told, diluc was a soft yandere, and you dearly, dearly loved him. leaving you be by your rooms, working his job as the dark knight. and coming back to sleep in a bed that is different from yours was enough to carve little pieces of your heart out into the abyss. you loved him, and you wanted to be loved. the silent treatment was not helping— despite you waking up early and waiting long in the nights to get a chance to talk to him. it just wasn’t working. diluc was not happy… until one day you just couldn’t take it, your silent sobs echoed through his room when he came home one night. immediately rushing towards you and hugging you tenderly. “hey hey hey— why are you crying?” diluc softly cooed, kissing your tears away. “hey- listen, i-” before he could complete, your whines escaped, sounding complaint-laced. “you don’t wanna even talk to me these days! i will never talk to you either fuckkk you!” you were angry at him, but you were leaning into his soft touch. “i love you, i’m sorry— i just, got scared okay? scared that my paranoia might hurt you and became distant..” the whole night, you and diluc got comfortable by sharing silences and sentences that you both needed to hear.
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vulturelined · 8 months
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Sanji fic was so good i creamed all over my screen, thank you for blessing my eyes truly.
Can you please make an SCP 049 fic and make him super submissive please im begging🙏
god bless 049
SCP-049 NSFW DRABBLE
minors dni, submissive scp-049
you had never seen the doctor the way you are seeing him now, crumbling under your touch. of course, he hasn't been touched for decades, but the way he's reacting to your hand alone? it should be criminal.
"please," his voice comes out shaky and broken, breathing heavily with that metal-tone that always accompanied his words. his head is leaned back against the cold, stone wall and his grey eyes are hazy, filled with need and want. he's not able to keep himself still, or quiet; a pleasant surprise from the usually monotone and held-together SCP.
his hand suddenly reaches out to grab your wrist, only to stop himself before he touches you. he heaves a sigh, gently rocking his hips into your hand, and you gently squeeze around the base of his cock. a low, drawn out groan escapes him and he sinks further into the uncomfortable bed in the back of his containment quarters.
his gloved fingers dig into the material beneath him, his breathing picking up by the second and his hips becoming erratic in the way they moved against you.
when you pause your hand, his eyes open, and he stares down at you with a need that makes you swallow thickly. you can feel him throbbing in your hand, gently running your index finger along his tip. he hisses, thighs trembling. "please, keep going," he pleads, trying to thrust further in your palm. he lets out a frustrated groan when you don't listen to him, reaching a hand up to rub his mask in irritation.
"c'mon, don't be like that," you hum, standing, but your hand never leaves him. you lean over him, gently pressing your forehead to his mask's, using your hand to support yourself. "just want to really look at you when I make you cum."
he shivers at your words, letting out a choked moan when you start moving your hand again, this time at a much faster pace. he squeezes his eyes shut, letting out small calls of your name and pressing the beak of his mask to your neck. you pause your hand once more, making him shudder and let out a broken whine. "open your eyes."
he hisses through his teeth, reluctantly opening his eyes to meet yours. "if you look away, or close them, i'll stop." you plant a kiss on the beak of his mask before continuing your previous pace again.
049 keeps his eyes on you the whole time, gripping onto the bed beneath him and trembling in your hold. his pants are broken and intertwined with desperate moans, some being your name. "oh, please," he whimpers, and you swear you can see his eyes glimmer with tears, "please let me."
"go ahead," you coo, smiling coyly and speeding up your hand the best you can in the position you were in. you watch his eyes roll back and feel his him fuck himself into your hand. he chokes on moans and shallow breathing, pressing his head back against the wall and finally letting himself cum into your hand.
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