#where did my life go off the fucking rails?

[asagi-red-wolf]

Hyperfixation means having no control of your obsessive lizard brain going from THIS

To fucking THIS

Out of curiosity, who else is a YOI fan who’s currently in hell with me?

Also bonus points for this

vs fucking THIS

#yuri on ice #yoi #helluva boss #stolitz #victuuri #where did my life go off the fucking rails? #oh wait nevermind #IT WAS S2E1 #The Circus is what finally rammed the last nail in my coffin I live here now goodbye @ what sanity I had left #and please please please do NOT get me wrong I will still hold onto YOI with everything I've got #it's just that the dumb owl and the dumber imp have taken up more of my current real estate

[sharkieboi]

my dad: “you should come home earlier so you can spend time with your mother”

me, internally: why the fuck would I do that

#shhh sharkie #I’m specifically a) lying to him about where i’m spending the night tonight #and b) spending as little time at home tomorrow as I can before I come back to the city #I have zero desire to spend any quality time with either of my parents rn #I’m driving to nyc to spend the night with my person tonight and sleep over with them #and then finishing the drive to ct tomorrow to drop off the car and then amtrak the fuck out of there #he’s trying to guilt trip me into spending the night in ct instead of nyc but like why would I do that #yeah i’d love to have an uncomfortable evening with a group of passive aggressive people who judge me and my life #and watch a shitty movie i’ll hate and be judged for how many glasses of wine I have #definitely better than getting free drinks at a gourmet restaurant while i wait for my SO to finish up work #and then go smoke/drink and get lovingly railed within an inch of my life #definitely time with my parents is worth more than that 🙄 #edit: coming back to this about a month later (2/2) and i kinda do wish i had arrived earlier to say hi to mom but still #more in that like. my parents have this preconceived notion that I hate them but that isn’t true #and i’d like as many opportunities as i can to disprove that #but also my mom is a self-centered narcissist and any slight against her is the worst crime in the world #so i’m okay missing her. but i did still want to see her. #or any of my siblings. it was just my dad and the pets. #which is great! i love how each of the dogs greet everyone #have to deal with Daisy first cause she needs to be Held and tell you she loves you #and then Dolly needs to lick all the moisturizer off your face and be a little potato #and Odie whines and patiently waits his turn but then he gets swaddled with affection #it’s a whole routine i love them all so much #and i miss my girl so much

[everyonewooeverywhere]

MDNI 18+ BLOG -> ageless blogs and minors WILL BE BLOCKED

pairing ✭ farmhand!mingyu x farmer's daughter!reader

note ✭ this is very much inspired by the mingyu pictured above. (also i don't mention it explicitly, but girly's family is lowkey rich)

synopsis ✭ when your dad hires a hot new farm hand, you can't keep your hands off of him.

content/genre ✭ smut (18+ mdni)

word count ✭ 2.9k

warnings ✭ smut, mingyu and reader are horny af, outside sex (no one else sees them though), no prep, overall horny shenanigans i guess 🤷‍♀️, alcohol consumption, tipsy sex (they're not depicted as drunk, but they did have a couple drinks)

✭✭✭✭

Every time your father hired a new farmhand, they were always the same. While they never disappointed in the build department (they were always jacked, but that was kind of a requirement of the job), but they all looked identical. They wore the same brown scuffed boots. They had their hair in the same floppy cut with the same dirty blonde color. 

For a couple of summers through your teens, it had been fun. Your father would hire him after the final school bell rang for the summer. You’d introduce yourself to him when your father was nowhere in sight, and you’d spend the rest of the summer sneaking around with him and having your fun. When summer finally ended and school began, you’d bid him farewell and never speak to him again, and your father was none the wiser.

And it was fun! The first two times. Then every summer turned the same, and every single farm hand looked indistinguishable from the last with no discernible personality whatsoever. 

So, having just finished your second year of university, you were expecting more of the same. You’d have a gander, but you certainly weren’t expecting much from whoever your dad decided to hire this summer. 

“God, why couldn’t you have invited me to stay over at your house this summer? I’d take whatever hunk your dad decided to keep,” your best friend from school, Jennifer, whined over the phone as you pulled your car up the long driveway to your house.

“I did invite you, but you’re spending you’re leaving today for Spain, remember?”

“Yes, but y/n!” she whined again, “I need more muscly men in my life. This would be the perfect opportunity.”

“You’re gonna be in Spain for two months. I’m sure you’ll find at least one man muscular enough to fit your standard.”

“Yeah, whatever. You better have fun with this man without me.”

“Like I told you earlier, they’re so fucking boring. It’s not gonna happen.”

You put your car in park and began to gather up your purse and phone when you glanced up out the windshield to see probably the most attractive man you’ve ever seen in your life walking out your front door and toward your car. It was as if your severe doubts had summoned him.

Ever the chatterbox, Jennifer kept talking, “Well I’m just saying maybe you should keep an open mind. You never know what could happen. One magical night in the woods and you could be locked down for life. It’s just–”

“Jennie shut the fuck up.”

“Woah,” she seemed mildly offended, “sorry?”

“He’s hot Jennie. Like really hot. Not even a ten. Probably a twelve.”

“Ugh, you lucky bitch! I told you to keep an open mind,” you could hear her mother yelling at her in the background, “Oh shit. Girl, I have to go, but send pics! Please! I need to see the hunk you’re railing this summer.”

“Yeah, of course,” you mumbled while she hung up on you.

This man was really throwing you for a loop. Just based on appearance alone you could tell he was not the type of guy your dad usually hired. First and foremost, he was massive. Well over 6 feet tall and far more muscular than any guy you’d ever seen (and that was saying something), and the skin-tight black t-shirt he was wearing did nothing to hide it. His hair was dark and cropped, a far cry from the endless supply of shaggy blonde hairstyles you’d seen over the years. 

The cherry on top was when, after watching you stumble out of the car, he’d asked, “Where’s your luggage? I thought I’d help you carry it inside.”

“Oh,” you let out an awkward laugh, “It’s in the trunk. Thank you.”

“Of course,” he followed you around the back of your car and popped open the trunk, “I’m Mingyu by the way.” He stuck out a hand for you to shake it.

You grabbed the hand and he shook it with a firm squeeze. Holy fuck he has nice hands. “Y/n. It’s great to meet you Mingyu.”

There was no hiding the way you gawked at the way his muscles flexed when he carried your stuff inside.

✭✭✭✭

The idea of returning to your old ways was honestly exciting for you. Last night over Facetime Jennifer had gotten the whole rundown of your brief interaction with Mingyu. You fawned over his muscles, his cute lisp and the way he’d been such a gentleman to help you carry your luggage after what you assumed was a long day of work. 

She’d found his Instagram of course and found out that he was indeed just as attractive as you’d described (and he had cute friends too). 

This morning you felt more than ready to kick off what you predicted to be a great summer. And you weren’t starting slow either. You knew the routine of your father’s farmhands enough to know that Mingyu would start the day mowing the lawn around your house. He’d usually start later on Saturdays (today), too. Meaning that if you got out there by 10 am, he’d probably still be working his way around the lawn. Hopeful by the pool.

Which, by complete coincidence, is where you were. Laid out in your favorite bikini by the water. The dark sunglasses covering your eyes meant that your eyes were completely hidden, but it was obvious where you were looking. 

Not far from the pool, you could see Mingyu pushing the lawn mower through the grass of your backyard. The tight black t-shirt from yesterday was no more. Instead, he wore a white tank top that left his arms completely exposed. He glanced over at you a couple of times, but he never let his gaze linger long enough for you.

You watched him from your laid-out position in your pool chair for a good fifteen minutes before he disappeared into the shed, presumably to put the lawnmower away. While he was inside, you took a moment to stand and dip your toes in the water thoroughly enjoying the coolness of the water. It was nice, you had to admit, but you’d have to save that for later because, while you were distracted by the water, Mingyu had made his way to the fence that separated your pool from the rest of the yard. 

It was only when he cleared his throat that you noticed him standing there, leaning against the fence smiling at you with an eyebrow raised.

“Do you normally spend your mornings checking out your dad’s employees?” God his voice.

You stepped out of the pool, “Only when I think they’re worth my time.” You slid your sunglasses off your face and onto the top of your head as you approached the fence where Mingyu was standing.

“Charming. I’m assuming he hasn’t the slightest idea what you get up to, then?”

You laughed, “Of course not. I’m good at keeping secrets.”

“I’m sure you are.”

“So…” you brushed his forearm with the tips of your fingers, “What time do you get done?” You knew the answer of course, but it felt polite to ask.

“Seven thirty. Why? Hoping to get me alone?” He smirked

“I wouldn’t mind it.” You bit your lip as you no-so-subtly checked him out for the millionth time, “Meet me behind the shed at seven forty-five, ok? Don’t be late. I’ll bring booze.”

✭✭✭✭

Part of you wondered if he’d be there when you snuck out of your house at eight-fifteen. Yes, you were late, but that was part of the game. Your parents always went to bed early, and you were an adult. So getting out of the house unnoticed was no issue at all. If your dad noticed the six-pack missing from the garage fridge, you could just tell him you drank it or you could feign complete innocence. 

The weather was still warm despite it being completely dark outside, so your athletic shorts and oversized tee did just fine. You’d contemplated wearing a skirt but ultimately decided against it because you didn’t want him to think you’d give it up that easily. Even though you were already struggling greatly to contain your excitement.

He could hear the clinking of the glass beer bottles as you made your way to the shed through the freshly cut yard. As much as Mingyu would love to deny it, he hadn’t stopped thinking about you since this morning. Something about the way you were laid out in the sun this morning had left a permanent imprint on his mind. The secrecy of the situation was also incredibly appealing. It turned him on more than he’d like to admit, messing around with his boss’s incredibly hot daughter.

Mingyu wasn’t an idiot. He knew you were taking your sweet time on purpose. You’d made him wait half an hour just to see if he’d wait around for you that long. You wanted to see how bad he wanted it, and clearly, he wanted it pretty bad because you found him sitting on the bench behind the shed staring up at the stars.

“Sorry, I’m late.”

He laughed, “Sure you are.” He held out a hand.

You passed him a bottle as you sat down next to him.

“I thought maybe you’d changed your mind, but it seems you just enjoy the idea of making people wait for you.”

“Maybe,” you turned so your knees just barely brushed his thigh, “But you waited for me didn’t you?”

“Hey, maybe I just wanted free beer.” He gestured to the bottle in his hand.

“I know for a fact my dad pays you enough for you to afford your own beer.”

He laughed and leaned his head back against the shed, giving you a full view of his neck. You couldn’t help but imagine kissing his neck, leaving plenty of marks in your wake. “He sure does. It’s one of the many benefits.”

“What else do you like about the job?” You were genuinely curious about what was so appealing about doing nothing but manual labor for an entire summer. Even if the paycheck was really good.

He shrugged, “I don’t know. Gets me off my ass. Gives me something to do with my hands.”

“Oh? You good with your hands?”

“You just don’t let up do you?” He really did enjoy how insistent you were despite your attempts to make him pine after you by making him wait for you so long. 

“Not unless I’m asked to.”

You ended up talking with Mingyu for two hours. The two of you drank and talked about your lives, school, home, past flings, and relationships. By the time you two of you had finished off the six-pack you’d brought out, you felt as if you’d been out there forever. 

At some point, you’d put your legs over his lap. He caressed one of your calves with one hand while you played with the fingers of his other hand.

As much as you’d enjoyed this little conversation, the more you drank, the hotter he got, and you were hardly holding it together anymore. With every move of his hand on your calf, you could feel yourself getting wetter and wetter.

You took the hand that was already in yours and placed it on your cheek, “Mingyu…” you whined looking up at him.

“What, baby?” his thumb stroked your cheek.

You straddled his lap, sitting back on his thighs and moving down his neck and to his chest, “can we stop talking for a little bit?”

“Oh?” he questioned, lightly placing his hand on your lower back under your shirt, “What do you suppose we do instead?”

“Can I kiss you?” You asked leaning further into him so that your chests were touching.

“You can do whatever you want, baby.”

That was all the confirmation you needed to lean completely into him and kiss him. The kiss was long and more passionate than any kiss you’d experienced from your past summer flings. His hands were on your ass, pulling you to hover over his crotch where you could obviously tell he was hard. And that would have made you smug if you hadn’t been sitting in your own arousal for at least an hour. 

You kissed down his neck just like you had previously imagined. He let out a deep moan with every mark and bite you made. You had failed to realize that one of his hands had left your ass until you felt a hand brush over your completely clothed pussy.

“Baby, as much as I love these cute little shorts, can I take them off of you?”

Nodding furiously, you leaned back, pulled yourself off of his lap and pulled off your shorts and shirt, setting them on the bench beside him. Of course, you weren’t wearing a bra, something Mingyu had noticed almost immediately when you’d sat down beside him. Before you made your way back to his lap, you reached for the hem of that stupid, useless white tank top that covered virtually nothing. You pulled it over his head with ease. 

“Wow–” you whispered.

He laughed and pulled you back into his lap, “As flattered as I am,” he ran a hand up your side, “I could say the same thing about you.”  

Before you could even think about how to respond Mingyu’s face was in your chest, feverishly placing kisses on your tits. He grabbed one with his hand and rolled the nipple between his fingers.

You gripped onto his hair and moaned softly. Your hips rolled over his clothed dick multiple times before he finally shucked off his jeans which had become uncomfortably tight. 

“Can I please fuck you now?” he asked.

“Please,” you begged completely forgoing the chance to tease him for his politeness.

You pulled down the waistband of his boxers and grabbed him. Running a thumb over the tip, you pulled his cock out and pumped it a couple of times. “God, baby. You better hurry up.”

He slid your panties to the side and ran a finger between your folds, “you sure you don’t want me to prep you?”

You shook your head. So much for making him wait. “I’ll be ok. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

He nodded and reached to grab a condom from his pocket. Of course, he’d come prepared. When he failed to open it fast enough, you snatched it out of his hands and ripped it open with your own teeth. You rolled it onto him after what felt like an agonizingly long amount of time. 

He positioned himself at your entrance and slid himself into you with relative ease. You threw your head back when he bottomed out. You covered your mouth in an attempt to keep yourself at least a little quiet. 

“F-fuck, Mingyu!”

“Shit, you’re so tight,” he grunted out, “I’m gonna need you to move, baby. Can you do that for me?” 

You nodded and gripped onto his shoulder. As you started bouncing up and down on his cock, he buried his face back in your chest, kissing and biting at your tits, collarbone, and neck. He left plenty of marks on your chest that were identical to the ones you’d left on his neck, maybe even darker. You had brought your own hand to your clit. Desperately trying to find your release. 

“Oh god Gyu, I’m so close,” you grabbed onto his hair.

He hissed from the stinging in his scalp, “Me too, angel, me too.” His face was in your neck when you’d finally reached your climax, and he followed immediately after.

You both sat there, chests heaving, for a couple of minutes, saying nothing.

“Wow,” was all he could say as he pulled you off his lap and helped you put your clothes back on, tossing the condom into the trash bin beside the bench. You made a mental note to take the trash out before your dad came out here tomorrow.

You laughed breathily, “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

He grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him. Your hands found their way to his chest instinctively. “Can I see you tomorrow night?”

“Oh, was that not enough for you?”

“God, no, that was perfect. But I wanna take care of you for real next time.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I have a truck,” he nodded toward the red pickup truck in your driveway, “I can drive it down to the creek. The bed of the truck is actually pretty comfy when you put blankets and pillows down.”

Laughing, you said, “You want to fuck me in the woods.” He shook his head, “I wanna eat you out in the woods.”

God, this was gonna be a fun summer.

✭✭✭✭

“Girl, what!? It’s only been a day?” Jennifer’s voice rang through the phone. “Was it good?’

“For outside bench sex? Yeah, it was great. We’re seeing each other tomorrow night.”

She groaned, “Ugh, you lucky bitch. I’m so jealous.”

“What? No Spanish hunks?”

She shook her head, “not yet. But I’m hopeful!” 

“Do you still want updates, or are you gonna explode from jealousy?”

“No! Please keep me updated. I’m living vicariously through you.”

You laughed, “God you’re insufferable.”

“I know!” She batted her eyelashes at you, “You will keep me updated though, right.”

“Of course, how could I not.”

✭✭✭✭

thank you for reading! i knocked this shit out in two days (and you can probably tell 👀), but i'm genuinely surprised with myself.

anyway hope you enjoyed. reblog and like if you did! love hearing your thoughts

mwah~

#seventeen smut #mingyu x reader #kim mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #kim mingyu smut #seventeen x reader #18+ mdni #mdni #everyonewooeverywhere

[angelltheninth]

Wedding Night with Honkai Star Rail Men

Pairing: Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luka, Sampo, Luocha, Welt x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, wedding night, gentle sex, using a tie, kissing, wedding fluff, breeding kink

A/N: Adding my martial arts man Luka because I really, really like his style.

Blade wouldn't have the patience to wait until the party is over with, he'd sneak you out into the room you rented as soon as he can. Would get himself hard while waiting for you to strip, he doesn't think he'd have enough control to keep your dress intact. The man has been pent up since your first dance, he needs to get that frustration out, and preferably inside of you. Will gladly go all night long, if you can keep up he'll keep you coming on his cock and fingers until dawn. Not only that but he will keep you full all night, every time he sees cum dripping out he'll give you more, breed you until he feels his seed take hold.

Dan Heng starts with kisses, it's what he knows will keep him in check until the clothes come off. Fuck, he's so hard already just from seeing you stripping. How did he gets so lucky? It's almost not fair to him. He is a tiny bit scared of losing control of himself once he gets his cock wet, which are fears that are almost confirmed for him. The first thrust is rough and deep, his eyes glowing, his claws tearing into the pillow, his need to come inside you overtaking his mind, the feeling of your pussy clouding his senses. It's only when you stroke his cheek and pull him into a kiss that he comes back to you. He should never be sorry for his true nature shining though, you married all of him, you want all of him, you love all of him and you'll show him that.

Gepard is a nervous mess when once he enters the bedroom. He was fine before but now he feels this immense pressure. Even with your hand on his cock he has a little trouble getting into it. This is your wedding night, you'll remember it for the rest of your life, he needs to make it good. His nervousness is evident in his kisses and his shaky hands roaming your body, his blush. You try to ease his worries by taking the lead, positioning his cock and sliding yourself onto it slowly. You show him how good he feels, like always, there's no need for him to do anything special, he is already special to you.

Jing Yuan starts the night off slowly. You've got all night so where's the rush. He wants to kiss, memorize and touch every part of your back, from head to toe, front to back until you're covered with the reminders of his devotion. Only after marking you to his liking will he let you touch his hard cock, and don't think he'll leave you high and dry while you're doing it. His fingers have been inching to touch your clit from the moment you sat next to him. Good thing he had the self control not to, he doesn't want to embarrass his new wife. But within these four walls he can touch you, he can put your legs over his shoulder, go tongue, fingers and balls deep into your newlywed cunt all he wants and listen to your cries for more until your voice gives out and you have to resort to pulling on his hair.

Luka teases you a lot during the wedding, whispering about the things he'll do to you once you're alone with him. You've gotten used to him saying these things a long time ago but now they seem more intimate, which makes them more embarrassing. Luckily he is the kind of man to put his money where his mouth is, or put his mouth on you is more accurate, your back against the door, legs around his head, his cold fingers in your pussy until you're getting his whole face wet as you come. How did he land a hottie like you huh? And now you're telling him you're his wife, that he can call you his wife while fucking his cock into you? He really lucked out in life.

Sampo lets you know right away that he has no plans on sleeping on your wedding night so you best get as much sleep as possible on the night before. You can already feel him, hard and pulsing and ready, as he sits you on top of him, your dress bunched up under his gloved fingers. Don't take it off, he wants to have sex like this, at least for the first round. How sexy is it that he gets to have his bride, his wife riding his cock in her wedding dress? He can cum all over you and it wouldn't be that noticeable. There will be time to come inside you too, but let him have this one fantasy, he's been dreaming about it since your engagement.

Luocha wants to make sure that the wedding night sex goes on for a long as possible. There's a lot of foreplay, he wants to get you really sensitive, really responsive to his touches. He can't seem to keep his mouth off your clit even if you're sucking on his cock at the same time, he's licking it, kissing it, sucking on it, talking against it until all he needs to do is breathe against you and your back is arching. But see, he hasn't come yet, not once. Because this night, he wants it to be about you. His thrusting, the way he angles your ass upwards and your head down, he keeps hitting you in the same spot to make stars dance in front of your eyes, to keep you coming and begging for the relief in the form of his cum splashing and filling your insides.

Welt gets a tiny bit cheeky on your wedding night. He's pulling away from your kisses, touching you for a second too little, grinding you against his cock and then pushing you away. His tie if around your wrists, keeping you from taking the pleasure, making you beg for it. You know you'll do it, it's just a matter of time now. So he's playing a little hard to get, consider it payback for you doing it to him for all these years. His cock feeling you up is all that can calm you down when you're on the verge of crying. No way will he let you cry on your wedding night.

#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #blade x reader #dan heng x reader #gepard x reader #jing yuan x reader #luka x reader #sampo x reader #luocha x reader #welt x reader #honkai star rail imagines #honkai star rail headcanon #hsr imagine #hsr headcanon #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail x female reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x female reader #hsr x you #blade smut #dan heng smut #gepard smut #jing yuan smut #luka smut #sampo smut #luocha smut #welt smut

[peachesofteal]

The Pit

COD masterlist Part 1/2 - Part 2

Ghost/Soap/female reader 6.3k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI, dub con, kidnapping, manipulative hurt/comfort, whump, the guys shave you, humiliation, forced orgasm, predator/prey, medical inaccuracies. Clothed males/naked female. The Pit by Silversun Pickups. Horror-ish. Misery inspired.

Winter in the mountains can be cruel. 

This is something you’ve always known, even as a child. You were raised with it. Chose to return to it after school, decided to make a go of it, of a life here, as an adult. You knew what you were getting yourself into, long cold winters that felt both bleak and promising, unblemished blankets of snow possessing the ability to be stunning, while also lethal. Winters were dangerous, silent killers that left corpses in their wake and no amount of lupine or paintbrushes, glacier fed lakes or springtime moose calves could make up for the hell that winter wrought. Winter brings most living things to the knife’s edge of survival, forcing most to bow beneath the weight of its fury, backs breaking with the burden of just existing in an environment that truly acts, and feels, inhospitable. 

Although, there are those who do more than survive the cold, violent stretch of winter.

There are predators who thrive. 

“You closin’?” Your coworker, the new one, asks from where she’s settled across the dark wood bar, two amber Budweiser bottles empty in front her idle hands, eyes wandering to guys posted up by the loneliest pool table in fifty square miles. 

“I am.” She casts the only window in the entire place a surreptitious glance, fingers peeling away at a label. It’s snowing, has been for hours, flakes fat and wet, fluffy enough that the density of the snow on the ground is light, but dangerous, as it hides the real risk underneath; packed snow sitting with a slick sheen of ice on top. 

“You still trying to make it over Fall River pass tonight?” You nod. 

“Yeah. Supposed to see my brother and his new place this weekend.” 

“Fall River? Is that even open right now?” Andy, a regular who lives a few streets over from you, chimes in, twisting an empty rocks glass in his fist. You pull the bottle of Jameson from the rail and tip it vertical, honey brown liquid sloshing like a wave until his glass is halfway full, and he gives you a flirty kind of smile, the same one he’s been giving you for a year now. Yeeesh.

“It is. I could go around, but it just takes too long. And it’s Friday. I’m not trying to be stuck on the highway with weekend traffic.” You complain, and they both commiserate your opinion. The traffic is brutal, especially in the winter. Driving in hazardous conditions is considered to be a talent more than an innate ability here, and people often overestimate their aptitude for it, causing crashes and delays that get the highway shut down for hours, or even days, at times. You shrug. “I’ve had my snow tires on for weeks. Might as well get some use out of them.” Andy snorts. 

“Like you haven’t been gettin’ good use out of them? First real snow was before Halloween this year.” You nod. He’s not wrong. You did get dumped on two weeks before the end of October, twenty-three inches piling up within two days, before half the area was even ready for it. You throw him a polite smile, one that you hope reads like ‘okay thanks for the concern, we’re done now’ and he sighs. “Well, drive safe.” 

Fall River pass, it turns out, is not open. It’s closed by the time you split off from the interstate and start the windy, switch-backed trek in your jeep, flashing orange and yellow lights dotting the top of a barricade just barely visible through the speckled snow flying by in your headlights. 

Fuck. You could have sworn the DOT website said it was open. You take a deep breath, quelling the anxiety that roils your stomach. Okay. Not the end of the world. There’s another road. A less maintained option, but… you’ll be fine. You’ve driven in worse. 

The other road, a sharp, narrow, desolate path that cuts through a large swath of unmanaged forest just outside the national park, is easy at first. You’ve been driving the same jeep for years, a 2007 two door Wrangler, and you know how it handles like the back of your hand. With snow tires, it could pretty much cut through anything, even unplowed, fire watch roads like this one. 

Which is why, after the first few miles, your nerves fully settle, and you allow yourself to relax a little bit behind the wheel, easing the jeep across the dips and slicks in the road as you cautiously build speed, snow falling fast through night, growing thicker the higher you travel into wilderness territory, and the farther you left modern civilization behind. 

An hour creeps by, and then two. Long enough that you’ve now realized you’re the only one using this road, fresh snow blanketing the woods around you, topography and vegetation starting to change as you encroach on what you assume must be eleven thousand feet. You’ve seen this road on google maps once, or twice maybe, having noted it for future travel just in case of a situation like this. It runs perpendicular to Fall River, and eventually meets another, one that must be similar, on the other side of the range. The secondary road is one that takes you along the ridge, and then down, you’re pretty sure, although you can’t be one hundred percent certain, because you lost cell reception before you even turned off from Fall River.

Still, won’t hurt to check and see if you have this area downloaded. 

You pull your phone from the center console, thumbing at the screen, allowing your eyes to linger too long without looking back up through the windshield. No one else is out here. It’s not like you need to worry about oncoming traffic. The little SOS insignia blinks at the top corner, and you tap on the map icon, hoping it will bring up your geo location so you can glance at the satellite image of the area. 

You’re so fixated watching the little circle of death try to load, that by the time you look up and see the tree laying across the road, it’s far too late. You do the first thing you were always taught not to do in winter conditions, and slam on the brake, shoving the pedal to floor, heart rate sky rocketing as you panic and lose total control of the jeep. You spin, shoulders and chest jamming against the seatbelt, headlights flashing off into the woods, illuminating an endlessly dark web of trees, bark and branch scratching across the paint as you careen off the road, tipping too precariously onto two wheels and then rolling. 

Time, your life, stands completely still for a moment. You see every individual fiber of the pine needles, every uniquely designed snowflake, every single droplet of blood that floats away from your face and through midair as you crash through the forest, your grasp on consciousness slipping farther and farther away, the jeep finally coming to a stop on its side, your head cracked against the driver’s window, stars and streaks spawning out across your vision, headlights finally blinking out completely, leaving you alone in the dark. Your head spins like you’re still rolling, and the only sound in the dead silent snow is your harsh breathing, frantic terror bubbling up through your throat as pain surges through your body. 

It's freezing, but you feel surprisingly warm. 

You’re going to die out here. No one knows you took this road, you don’t have service, by the time they find you, it’ll be too late. You’ll be a bled out, frozen corpse, long gone and- 

You lose your train of thought quickly. Everything starts to fracture, fissures forming in your consciousness, part of you already losing the battle to the inevitable, darkness pulling over your eyes like a knit hat, lungs heaving just a little harder with each breath. 

You could just close your eyes. Just for a moment. 

Light sweeps across the ground, flashing across your face. You think, if you were truly with it, in your right mind, you’d think it was too bright. You’d say it was blinding. 

But you can’t formulate anything of the sort, mind too busy slipping away, falling into an inky black depth, just barely on the verge when you feel a gloved hand on your skin, the lilt of an accent on the wind. 

Sleep. 

You’re drifting. Falling through a stardusted, molasses filled haze, your mind ebbs and flows with consciousness; soft and warm feelings contrasted with sharp pain that bites through your body as if it’s slowly trying to eat you, chipping away piece by piece.

There are words, voices. There are hands too, fingers walking across your skin, limbs being moved, arranged, always with pain that’s followed by a hushed whisper of apology, a confusing sentiment in the dark. Your eyes won’t open. Your mouth won’t work. Your head is stuffed with cotton, wispy strands of connections that can’t quite get there, scrounging along the walls of your skull, trying to meet in the middle. You’re drowning, sinking to the bottom of a macabre pool, the one that’s infected your synapses and kept you just inside the shelter of delirium.

You try to call for help, but you can’t.

You try to swim to the surface, but the grisly black of your mind is never ending.

You’re dying, the tiny sliver of rational thought assures. Or you’re already dead.

Despair swells, and if you could feel your face, you’d think you were crying, lost to the sweeping desolation of your pain. It steals your breathe. Your sense. Everything becomes secondary to the obliterating agony that you feel. 

Something touches your cheek. Your eyes fight to open, straining against the heaviness that weighs on them, just barely blinking wide enough to let some light in, your vision fuzzily trying to focus.

Wood beams come into view. A ceiling? Where-

You try to turn your head but an electric shock rattles through your brain, forcing you to slam your eyes shut again, world spinning on an uneven axis as something on the edge of your sight shifts. A monster. A man?

Something is said, whispered, and then everything fades away, your mind and body slipping beneath the waves of darkness.

The next time you surface, you manage to cling to consciousness long enough to take stock of your surroundings, realizing you’re tucked into a soft, warm bed almost immediately, something hot near your feet, pillows fluffed beneath you. A hand stitched quilt is spread across the top of copious other blankets and sheets, and your fingertips scratch against the fabric. Flannel.

You’re also awake long enough to truly experience the pain you’re in.

One thousand tiny knives rattle around in your skull, slicing into the soft matter of your brain, tearing you apart piece by piece, everything in you unmoored and off balance. Searing pain radiates up your leg, through your arm and wrist to your head and neck, and when your instinct urges you to try to move, your body screams in protest, the pain so intense that you cry out.

That’s when you see him.

A man steps towards you from the edge of your peripheral, and you freeze in terror.

“Shhh. We’re not goin’ hurt ye. Ye had a terrible accident. Pure luck we found ye when we did, dove. Ye would’ve died out there.” He coos in an accent, inching closer, and you manage to get a better look at him, recognition failing immediately. An accident? An accident… memories come flooding back, broken clips of the jeep spinning, rolling, the woods, the fear. Who is he? Where are you? Brilliant blue eyes look down at you with concern, handsome face tweaked into worry, furrow in his brow partially covered by the long strands of an overgrown mohawk. He’s pretty. “Can ye follow my finger?” He presents one in front of your nose, but it splits into two, and then three, just the attempt to focus enough to make your head throb, and a whimper escapes from your throat. “I know, I know.” There’s a ceramic mug in his hand, and he carefully lifts it to your lips, encouraging you as he tips it back, warm, sweet liquid washing down your throat. You can’t even move your arms to push him away, and when he seems to be satisfied, his thumb wipes the corner of your mouth. “Good love. Well done.” You feel woozy all of the sudden, maybe even a little nauseous, and you think you could be hallucinating when another man appears at the foot of the bed, handsome, but in a rugged way, watching you with honeyed brown eyes, the broadest, biggest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Those bones need setting.” He says, and the pretty one grimaces, fingertips trailing along your cheek.

“Maybe tomorrow. I’m still worried about the concussion.” His thumb cards across your brow.

“It’s been three days, Johnny. Can’t put it off too much longer.” Three days? Your brain latches onto the time. Three days of what? Since when? You’re starting to fade, trying to focus on what they’re saying but losing the battle horrendously when the blankets shift, warmth tucking down around your waist and shoulders, unable to react or even speak when they both press a kiss to your forehead, affectionate and longing touch that startles you until you’re losing the battle to sleep.

It's snowing.

You don’t have to see to know. There’s something about how it hangs in the air, how the world sounds during a snowfall that blankets everything: houses, trees, mountains… your mind.

You love the snow. Even as a child, winter was your favorite. Winter brought you a sense of calm, of peace. It’s what brought you back here, kept you here, even amidst the perils. The feeling of a forest, lying still beneath the soft spun expanse of white, the crisp smell of the air the morning of a big snow, the eternal quiet that exists in the night when everything is dampened by the weight of a million, billion, uniquely crystalized webs of frozen water.

This snow feels different. It doesn’t feel like a velvety white, candy-coated dream world; but a nightmare… one filled with pain, anxiety. Where are you? What’s happened? 

And why do you hurt so fucking bad? 

“You’re awake.” A deep voice says from your side, and you flinch on instinct, immediately wishing you hadn’t as lightning sharp pain zings through you, your voice breaking with a cry. “Easy.” He cautions, and your head stops swimming long enough for you to realize it’s the brown eyed man, the bigger one. He’s sitting in a chair that looks far too small for his width, watching you with an intensity that makes you feel exposed.

“Where… am I?” You manage to choke out through stiff lips, your head spinning and the world tilting at the same time. It sours your stomach, more than you thought possible, and you try to swallow the burn of bile that’s racing up your throat.

“Are you going to be sick?” He strokes your face, the touch nearly sweet, but confusing, and you hold your tongue, unsure. He sighs, expression shifting into disapproval, and then a frown. “Tell me.”

“N-no, I don’t-“ You can’t even finish your denial before your stomach is heaving and he’s springing into action, shifting you onto your side where a clean bucket sits right next to the bed. You wail in misery, pain shooting through your leg and arm, your ribs, bile and spit leaking from your mouth.

“It’s alright, that’s it.” A hand soothes up and down your back as you dry heave, sputtering on nothing, tears dripping to the wooden floorboards with a splash.

“Nnrgh-“

“I know, I know. Poor thing.” He coos, and it sounds… endearing, so sweet yet… frightening, like the poison of a predatory, a pretty display meant to draw you in before it snaps a set of jaws shut around your face.

Somewhere, nestled inside the last shards of your sanity, an alarm bell whistles, but the intensity of your pain quickly drowns it out, and you cry aloud.

“Hurts.” He rolls you back to your original position, arranging you like a doll. “It hurts.”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. We’re going to fix it.” A cloth dabs at your forehead and then down to clean your mouth, just as the man with the mohawk appears on the bed, one knee down, leaning over you, worry rife in his features.

“Poor baby. Were ye sick again?” Again? You blink up at him. What is going on? He presses a glass to your lips, urging you to drink, and then pulling it away after you’ve had a few sips with a gentle “not too much.”

“Who are you?” The water is cold, refreshing, but a ting acidic, and you wonder if it’s well water, maybe?

“I’m Johnny.” He’s setting up something beside you, organizing it, but you can’t turn your head to look, and can’t quite catch it from your peripheral. “An’ this is Simon. Or Si, but ye probably willnae be callin’ him that quite yet.” Quite yet? What? Did they find you? Did they rescue you? Why can’t you remember? 

“What happened.” You try again, gritting your teeth.

“Ye had an accident, remember? We talked about it yesterday. Ye rolled off the road, ended up nearly down the mountain, in the thick of the trees. Ye’re lucky the one didnae impale ye.” Impale?

“And you found me?” You're starting to feel tired again, all the sudden, woozy and weird, exhaustion pulling at your limbs. Shouldn't you be in a hospital? Why haven't they taken you to a doctor?

“Aye, we did. Pulled ye out, brought ye home.” Home?

“You don’t have to worry.” Simon, the bigger one, tells you. “We’re going to take care of you.” Take care of who? Everything is foggy, clouded, and you try to shake your head in confusion.

“I don’t… why-“

“Storm is pretty bad. One of those, once in a lifetime types. Pass is closed.” You close your eyes. Of course. The pass is closed. You guess you’re lucky. They could have left you to die, and you could have never been found. You could have frozen to death. Bled out.

“Thank… thank you.” Johnny hums, and then you ripple in shock as he leans forward and brushes his lips against your mouth in a kiss. This… this is not normal? Are Scottish people just… more affectionate? 

“Want ye to know, if we didnae have to do this, we woudnae.” What?

“Do what?” Simon casts you a mournful glance, rising from the chair. He’s got piece of leather in his hand, like a cut from a belt, and your eyes dart between them, fear freezing solid inside your pores. Do what?

“Bite down on this, precious.” Simon instructs, placing the swatch against your bottom lip, and you jerk away in protest, pain burning through your body.

“Do what?” You try to sound strong, demanding, but it comes out a little less than timid, and he gives you a sad smile.

“Your femur is broken.” A warm hand rests on your leg, over the covers, and you try to click the pieces together. “And I suspect your radius is, too. We need to set them.”

Oh. Oh no. 

“N-no, no, you… you ca-can’t.” You stutter. They can’t. A doctor should be doing that, shouldn’t they? Johnny hovers over you, placing his palm on your belly, stroking upwards to the middle of your chest, the other holding firm across your collarbone. His touch is gentle, but strong, and his thumb rubs in a cautious motion against your skin, lightly grazing the underside of your breast. It feels weird, and wrong… intimate in a way that makes you shiver. “Please. Please, please… don’t-“

“It’s alright.” He shushes you, and the pressure increases against your body as Simon wedges a thick finger between your teeth, slipping the worn leather in your mouth, bracing around your wrist, his other hand holding your elbow. You gasp for air, adrenaline fueled by pain and fear coursing through you, and Johnny coos, telling you ye’ll be alright, that ye’re with them now, and they’ll take such good care of ye. 

“Take a deep breath.” Simon urges, and you stare at him, wide eyed, pulse thundering in your ears.

“Ye’ll probably pass out, bonnie. We’ll get the second one done while ye’re down, and I already gave ye somethin’ for the pain.” He assures, like it’s supposed to relieve you, and your nostrils flare as something tightens against your arm. Simon’s grip. 

This can’t be happening. This has to be a nightmare. How can this happen? No, nononono-

There’s a crack. A crunch. Burning, obliterating torture rockets up your arm, exploding inside you like a shot. You scream and bite down at the same time, raw misery trying to claw it’s way out of your throat. You think you’re crying, hallucinating from the pain, having a heart attack, fucking dying, all at once. It hurts, it hurts so bad, stop, please-

“We’re sorry, we’re sorry.” Simon soothes, thumb wiping your cheek, but you can hardly hear him, your brain starting to sever itself from reality, floating away as you slip inside the dark tomb of your mind, losing yourself to the fog as they both stare down at you, sickeningly saccharine concern layered overtop the faces of wolves, predators licking their maws in preparation for a meal.

You sleep and wake in a haze.

You sleep. Your dreams are torments, visions of being chased through the mountains by monsters, being pinned to the ground, teeth tearing into your throat with no preamble, or nightmares of drowning, being swallowed by the ocean, lungs sputtering with concrete laden sea water.

You wake. Your vision blurs, mind scrambled by pain, vaguely aware of being moved, carried to the bathroom, held upright over a toilet, gentle touch soothing up and down your back, heavy palm cupping curve of your skull when your head is tipped back and something is dribbled past your lips. You blink blearily with stone weighted lids, taking in the room bit by bit, the wrought iron bed frame, crackling flames sparking in a fireplace, mountain of pillows sagging with the imprint of your body. Your limbs are wrapped and unwrapped, immobilized, and shifted, and the pain is enough to make you gasp for air, tipping you over into the decaying depths of unconsciousness again and again.

You sleep. Restless, chilled. Ice spreads from the nerves in the tip of your nose to your brain, your fingers, and you try to burrow it deeper, seeking the comfort of the pillows, but finding warm skin and muscle instead. In your sleep, it’s lovely. It’s comforting. Even when you’re rolled to your side, something sticking under your tongue, you chase the heady thick heat that seems to roll off the limbs around you.

You wake. There are voices, deep and rumbling, bouncing through the room. Warm water dabbing down your neck, your belly, your legs. You’re too hot, uncomfortable and smothered until you hear a sharp pitched snarl accompanied by a yank, and then there’s a void of emptiness around you.

You sleep.

You wake. The pain starts to change, melting into something that’s consistent, throbbing, but a little less sharp, unless you move, and then it shrieks through your nerves like an electrical shock, vibrating your jaw shut.

You sleep.

You wake. They’re there. Simon is dabbing a cool washcloth across your forehead. You try to flex away on instinct, but firm hands stop you, holding you in place.

“Hey there, dove.” Johnny whispers, smiling. It’s a shy kind of smile, sweet, and the world spins. You grapple with reality, trying to remind yourself where you are, what happened. The fire snaps and pops behind Simon, who stands at his side, massive hand on his shoulder. “Made ye some breakfast. Think ye can eat somethin’?” Breakfast? A steaming bowl of oats sits cradled in his hand, spoon at the ready. Nausea roars, enflamed by the pain in your bones, and you shake your head. “Ye need to eat. Been givin’ ye soup for the past few days, but ye need more carbs.”

“I- I don’t understand.” You try to explain your confusion, hundreds of questions brewing on your tongue, trying to spill out.

“You’ve been in and out consciousness for the last week.” Simon explains, and your eyes widen.

“What?” Panic knots, twisting you up tight, heart fluttering in your chest.

“We had to sedate you. Needed to keep you still through the first part of the healing process.”

“You… you drugged me?” You stammer, and Simon smiles, but it’s not sweet like Johnny’s. It’s severe. It’s dangerous.

“Soft calluses form around fractures, after they’ve been set.” He sits down on the other side of the bed, across your hips from Johnny. “Your breaks aren’t in casts, so we needed to minimize your movement until the calluses could strengthen.”

“Ye willnae be able to walk on the leg, or lift anything with that arm, but we’ll help ye.” Johnny assures. “We’ll be here for ye, as ye get better.” The words don’t compute, and you look at both of their faces, sweeping back and forth, blue eyes to brown, brown to blue, until the only thing that you can think of blurts out of your mouth:

“Where’s my phone?” There’s a flash of discontent in Johnny’s features, but it’s quickly smoothed away, and you wonder if it even there in the first place.

“I imagine it’s somewhere near where your jeep rolled. We weren’t exactly concerned with finding it, considering we were trying to save your life.” Simon’s hands flex in the sheets, and then relax, serious look on his face, and guilt swamps you. Right. They saved your life. You could have died. And the pass is closed. Maybe this is all… as normal as it can be, given the situation. Calm down. 

Still… 

Didn’t Johnny kiss you? 

The spoon clinks against the bowl, jolting you back to the moment, eyeing the scoop of oats as it drifts closer to your mouth, lips parting on instinct.

The first bite is difficult, an insipid, unsavory lump sliding down into your stomach, toothy grin stretching across Johnny’s face as you swallow. The second bite is easier. So is the third, and you manage a few more after that until you start to feel wooly, head fuzzy and stomach sick. “I can’t.” You bleat, and he nods sympathetically.

“Alright, ye did good.” Sleep tugs, insistent again, strong surge of fog pulling at your eyes, and you yawn.

“Tired?” Simon’s already moving, hovering, patiently adjusting your pillows and lazily urging you into them. “You should rest.” You’re too weak, too miserable to argue, so you let yourself fade to black, easily falling back into the webbed slush of sleep.

You drift in and out for days after that. A bright spot of consciousness here and there before it dissipates and you fall into oblivion, and you find yourself embracing it as often as possible, trying to escape into yourself, away from wooden beams and potential predators that flank you.

You’re content to let it stay that way, hiding away behind closed lids for as long as possible, until the morning you feel the washcloth.

“Sh-sh-shhh.” Johnny hums when you garble out a distressed question, tipping a glass to your mouth. Cold liquid rushes across your tongue, and you have no choice but to swallow, confusion webbing across your thoughts. Simon has the blankets pulled away, chilled air nipping and your skin, and you moan. It’s strange, like you’re exposed, half floating like you’re high, and half spiraling through your pain.

“It’s okay, we’ve got you.” They’re repositioning you, arms and legs like a little doll, and you frown. “Jus’ need to get you clean.” Clean? The washcloth coasts across your neck and down to your chest, warm water soaking a trail down your breasts. You’re naked, fully, a hot palm against your hip, skin on skin contact registering as you blink fuzzily, watching the way Johnny focuses on you, concentration shining in his stunning blue eyes.

Water sloshes. Squeezing and dripping, and then the warm, nearly hot cloth is being pressed against you, stroking over your nipples, washing the underside of your breasts. It feels nice, and you whine a little when it pulls away. Simon chuckles.

“Do ye like that?” Johnny coos, reapplying the cloth to your belly. “Does that feel good?” Does it? Is it supposed to? Your vision doubles then realigns, and you stare at the underside of Simon’s jaw, mesmerized by the scar on his chin, the width of his neck. He readjusts you, again, slowly moving your knees apart, spreading your legs, and heat climbs through your bones to your cheeks.

You’re naked. They’re fully clothed. 

“We’re goin’ clean this up a bit.” Simon murmurs, a thick finger tracing along your slit, through the soft curls between your legs, and you balk. Clean what? How?

“My… my-“ you can’t even get the words out, too embarrassed, and he nods, sliver flash of a razor twinkling in his hand. The air in your chest sputters.

“Your hair.” Johnny works the washcloth back and forth, water dripping down your skin to the towel that’s been placed under your hips, you can only lay there in mortification when you feel yourself getting wet, tepid arousal roaring to life between your legs. “If you’re a good girl for us,” Simon continues, spraying a big glob of shaving cream into Johnny’s palm, “we’ll give you a treat afterwards. How’s that sound?”

“A treat?”  You squeak, and then whimper, Johnny’s fingers creeping down your slit, rubbing the cream across your pubis and labia, heel brushing against your clit. You make a noise of a protest, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Ye’re alright.” He coos, bumping against the swollen bud again, and you try to stop the moan that builds in your chest with no success, slamming your eyes shut and trying to disappear into the pillows. “It’s natural, dove. Ye dinnae need to feel embarrassed.” He leans forward, slotting his mouth against yours, lips soft and fragrant in a pillowy sweet kiss that lasts too long, his eyes blissfully closed in front of your almost crossed ones. 

“Please…” you whisper, but you’re not sure what you’re asking for, and Johnny coos at you, bending at the waist to get a better vantage point between your legs. You shake your head, eyes wide with disbelief, with fear, your mind trying to catch up, trying to rationalize what’s happening at the same time as your body is betraying you, slicking the cream that’s lathered between your thighs, clit pulsing with desperate need.

“I- I don’t want you to… shave me.” You whisper. You don’t want them to touch you… there, and the panic that’s pulsing between your ears continues to rise as your protests go unnoticed. Just saying it out loud makes you want to die of embarrassment, and Simon clucks.

“We have to take care of you, sweet girl.” Simon grips your thigh, fingers pressing into flesh, and the cool blade of the razor moves against the grain with a flick of his wrist, drawing back to a bucket for a rinse before a repeat, breath frozen in your chest as he slowly eliminates the curls of your pubic hair. “It will be easier to do that, to see what you need without all this.” He hums, the smile of a wolf coy on his face. “Stay nice and still for us.” They work in tandem, perfectly synchronized, and your unwanted arousal starts to overpower the pain that’s radiating from your broken bones. It’s been so, so long since you’ve been touched by anyone, and your body does not care that you didn’t want this, or agree to it, too eager to be satisfied, to be touched in anyway it can get, and it gets worse, more intense the longer it goes on, the precise movements of their hands, the slow and methodical approach to your cunt. “Almost done.” Simon tells you, and the side of his finger passes over your clit unintentionally, and you whine. “I know, I know. You’re bein’ so good. Such a good girl.” Your good hand is shaking, gripping the sheets, and when he finishes, Johnny wipes you down with a clean cloth, passing over your clit again and again, electric shocks sparking in your belly. You’re paralyzed, helpless, and yet… soaked. Desperate. The warring emotions tear at you, shame and fear and desire rendering you speechless.

“I think ye need some relief, dove.” Johnny hums, looking from your pussy to Simon, both of them tilting their heads to stare between your legs. “Poor thing is so swollen, Si.”

“Do you want to touch her, Johnny? Give her a reward?” Simon asks him, so sweetly, and Johnny shimmies down to be eye level with your pussy, tongue darting out to lick his lips.

Half of you screams no. Half of you shouts yes.

All you can do is watch, helplessly, as they settle themselves between your legs, Simon over Johnny’s shoulder, tempering his frenzied excitement with assured patience. 

“Will ye show me how?” He’s eager, and you frown, confused.

“Johnny’s never made a girl come before,” Simon tells you gently. “You’ll be his first.” Oh my god. “Will you help him? Tell him what feels good?” Your brain melts. You don’t know what to say, mouth half open, staring at the both of them, and after a few seconds, Simon sighs like he’s exasperated with you, before ducking back down next to Johnny and murmuring softly to him, probing along your cunt, finger dipping into your hole, swirling in the wetness gathered there and then moving up to your slit. You gasp, eyes nearly rolling back in your head.

“She likes that.” Johnny groans, breath blowing over your exposed flesh, and Simon takes his hand, thumb over thumb, guiding him in small circles around your clit.

 “Nice an’ slow at first, when you’re rubbin’ her clit. Feel how hard it is?” He instructs, pressing a kiss to the side of Johnny’s head, and he nods enthusiastically, looking up at Simon with wide, puppy dog eyes, sappy and saturated with love. It’s sweet, and affectionate, like they’re the only ones in the room, in the world… and you’re intruding on a private moment between these two men and your body. Like you’re a bystander. Or a doll. It’s confusing, your brain trying to sort everything that’s happening into neat little boxes that keep overflowing or falling apart, fracturing under the weight of your helplessness, the shock and fear that’s nearly made you dizzy. “See how her little hole is clenchin’ like that? It’s ‘cause she’s empty, needs to be filled up. When she comes, she’ll get real tight.” He explains, your body enflaming in mortified heat. They’re pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm, and Simon increases the speed as your hips jolt.

“Fuck.” You hiss.

“That’s it.” Simon coaches. “Are you close, sweet girl? Gonna come for us?” You shake your head, but even if you wanted to close your legs, you couldn’t. You’re trapped, lost in a sea of wild waves that break directly over your head, one after another until you’re drowning, gasping, muscles so tight they burn, pain in your arm and leg a secondary concern behind the pressure in your belly, the zap of your clit as they drag you too easily to the bottom, before sending you breaking through the surface.

You come with a distressed moan, hips jerking, and then a raspy plea for them to stop, telling them it’s too much, you’re too sensitive, to which Simon wraps his hand around Johnny’s wrist and pulls his hand away.

“We can’t overwhelm her just yet. Gotta wait until she’s healed up, hm?” He murmurs, reaching for the cloth. You blink at the ceiling, drifting, floating away, little boxes in your mind broken up into gnarled pieces that don’t make sense.

What just happened?

You stay silent, blank, as they settle you, cloth cleaning between your legs, blankets being fussed with around your body, pillows plumped. Simon curls some of your unruly hair behind your ear, swooping down until the breadth of his body blocks out all the light in the room, lips brushing over your ear. “What a good girl you are, dove. Did so well, letting Johnny give you an orgasm. So sweet for him.” He tucks you in a little tighter, and Johnny ducks around him, kissing you gently, like you’re made of glass, thrilled smile tugging at his cheeks, unfettered joy the last thing you see before your eyes slip shut.

The next time you wake, Johnny is in bed with you. It’s dark, a flickering orange glow casting shadow across the room, and you startle at the weight of his arm stretched across your chest, cradling you close, half curled around you like a cat. You turn, face to face, his mouth slightly agape, breath blowing over your cheek. You can’t get enough leverage on one leg to slide out from under him, and when you squirm, he only tightens his grip, pinning you to the bed. You’re overheated, and when you peek over his shoulder to get a look at the fire, you see Simon instead, sitting upright in a chair, fully awake, watching you. White hot fear shocks your system, forcing your eyes down in disbelief, surprise, his chair creaking in the night. Your breath stops in your chest, and then there’s a hand smoothing over your forehead, as he leans past you to brush his lips against Johnny’s, and then rough stubble presses against your cheek with a jagged whisper.

“Sweet dreams, little dove.”

#peaches writes #dub con #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #ghoap x reader #john soap mactavish #ghost x reader x soap #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #Ghoap #soap x reader

[romanoffsbish]

You Can Run, but You Can’t Hide

Alpha!Natasha Romanoff x Omega!Reader

Natasha always knew the truth, but it wasn’t until a mission where she had you alone that she set her plan in motion. Come the end of the trip she planned to make your hers in the most natural way—claimed and bred. | WC: 1,440

Warnings: NC Themes (Discarding of hormone blockers) | Guns / Death (to Hydra)

Smut: Kotenok (R) | Penetration (P in V — Natasha has a penis) | Public (Over [a balcony railing]) | Choking | Breeding

Natasha watched the way you paced around the room, it'd been a weeks time since you'd arrived in this hotel. A mission that you were assigned on with Natasha, an Avenger first, Alpha second, but nonetheless an Alpha.

Which would be fine, since you were a beta, but with your medicine missing the truth was coming to light. The truth that the redhead was aware of from the second the lie left your lips, you were an omega; hers, waiting for what, she didn’t know, but she was over it.

———

That's why she took your stash of hormone blockers and poured them down the toilet on night one, at first she appreciated your concealment since she was busy. Missions were at an all time high last year when you joined Shield, but with the incoming fall of Hydra, as this mission is designed for such a thing, there was no longer a need for you to hide from predatory alpha's.

Natasha was here now, to make sure they all knew you were hers. Hers to claim, to wreck, to fill with her pups.

Her cock twitched when she got a whiff of your scent, it was dull from the prolonged use of drugs, but it was still clear enough for her to feel comforted by the soft swirls of cinnamon and vanilla. Then it soured as your body began to fight against the natural, debilitating heat that followed a sudden change, such as quitting your meds. Natasha was quick to croon from the other room, pumping out thick pheromones as she slowly entered the room. You looked up at her so pitifully.

"Oh kotenok," she coo'd, "You don't look too good, what's wrong beta? Are you going through a period?"

You whimpered, body trembling as your natural instincts made you throw yourself into her chest. "Alpha please." Natasha wrapped her arms around you, and held you close enough that you could feel her twitch through her pants. You cried and she smirked. “Oh, what a naughty girl, you’re no beta after all…”

Judging by her teasing tone, you understood that she knew, and with the way she gripped you, it was even more clear what had happened to your supply. You should be angry, but you were actually relieved. A single alpha like Natasha was rare to find, she was kind, soft when off the clock, and gorgeous in all facets. You’d almost poured the pills down the drain yourself every time you caught her staring at you after an event.

“I’m sorry, but please don’t pull away, I-I need you.”

"Are you gonna tell me why you've been hiding?"

"I-I wasn't ready to give up my life just yet, but fuck, I swear I'm ready now, if it's with you alpha, please."

"We have a mission," she reminded you, her eyes cast outside the window to catch movement of the enemy.

"Please!" You gripped her biceps, body shivering at the chiseled muscles that flexed beneath your fingers, if you didn't need her before, you sure did now. "Shit."

Natasha kept your body from falling with the buckle of your knees, her free hand reached for her long rifle and she took the both of you outside onto the balcony.

"I'll fuck you," she gave in with ease, and you purred softly at the good news. Then you felt her slipping your pants off and softly shrieked, "We're outside Natasha, anyone can see us." She chuckled, "Good observation."

Natasha continued to strip you while her other hand set her gun up on its stand, a bit of a multitasker.

"I can wait," you tried to stop her, but not really as you arched your bare ass into her dicks imprint, your body having a mind of its own, your heat was too strong. "Well, I don't want to detka, I've waited far too long."

Though you’d guessed it, you were shocked at the way she confirmed it without an ounce of shame. “Y-you knew?" Natasha gripped your hip, and brought your dripping entrance to her thick tip. "Of course I did, you can't hide from a super soldier's senses," her nose nuzzled over your neck and you whimpered at the hopeful promise of her claiming you. No longer were you worried about anyone seeing you two, the rest of the world faded away as she slipped herself inside.

Her hips stayed still, allowing your slick walls a moment to catch up with the stretch before she was lifting you off the ground. "Na-Natasha, what are..."

The redhead grunted as she lifted your body onto the railing by her grip around the nape of your neck, and you cried out in both fear and pleasure. It was muffled as she alluringly slid her hand around to squeeze your throat. The tip of her cock had slammed into your cervix just as you stared down at the far away ground, full of tiny silhouettes to remind you it was day time. 

The railing shook as Natasha picked up a brutal pace, her face never lost its smirk as she felt your legs wrap around her backside, your heels painfully dug into her covered back. "Alpha, I-I'm not sure about..."

"You wanted to be filled Y/N," she taunted, "I said we had a mission, that means you'll take your pleasure while I do all of the work. Be thankful, not bratty."

"Sorry Alpha," you whimpered, and held on tighter.

"There's the leader," she pointlessly alerted you, who couldn't see anything other than her demise if she slips over the railing. Your walls were clenching so hard, hoping to instigate her knot so that you'd have a more secure base, but it was fruitless. Natasha's stamina was unworldly, and you were completely at her mercy here.

You heard a muffled shot go off over the sound of the railing squeaking beneath your moving body, then the gun was going off again. "Partner is down, two to go."

Natasha picked up her pace, and was rewarded with your filthy moans that were once muffled by your fear, and she knew she wouldn't last much longer. Which was fortunate for the both of you since she already shot another member, and was left with the other who had caught sight of the both of you. He was stuck in place, unable to comprehend that he was going to die by the hands of the Black Widow, who was railing her omega.

Natasha smirked, and finally gave into your cries to be upright. She grunted as your back pressed to her front and your slick, from your first orgasm, ran down her legs. "Last one detka, keep him distracted for me."

Your eyes locked on the others, the mans mouth was agape as he watched you get railed, it distracted him from the red dot that illuminated his forehead. He was clearly unaware of his fate as his eyes lost their life but you were aware of yours as her knot locked in place and her potent stream of cum filled you with a future.

"You are going to look so beautiful full of my pups," Natasha hoarsely groaned against your neck, her teeth barely scraped over your sensitive gland and you mewled, your walls milked her cock even more and her knot subsequently deflated after a minute of your persistence . “Fuck, I need to fill you again kotenok.”

Her strong hands held you by your hips as she carried you back into the hotel room. She laid you flat on the mattress, and pulled out of you, just long enough to flip you over and thrust right back inside of you. It was loud as your arousals rushed out, only to be sloshed all over the place as her cock entered you mid disposal.

Your body then thrashed at the harsh fill up and her canines dug into your scent gland, leaving behind her unbreakable mark as your core fluttered around her as you came again without much work. "Keep squeezing me just like that detka and we'll never be apart again."

"Good," you sighed softly, happiness clear in your eyes, "I was getting tired of being apart to begin with."

Natasha chuckled, and leaned in to chastely kiss your lips, "It was your choice to hide detka, I was waiting."

"I'm glad you grew impatient," you mused, then you nervously pressed a kiss to her neck, wet lips grazed over her scent gland. "Can I claim you too, Alpha?"

"Wait," she whispered, voice raspy as she began to pump in and out of you, "Wait for my knot detka..."

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x female reader #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha x fem!reader #gxg

[bindeds]

Hello

Could I request a Lucifer x reader smut pretty please I BEG ON MY KNEES IM PLEADING

Lucifer fucks you from behind while on the balcony, a wide view of Hell in front of you 🤭

Kind of languid sex but he could go faster if he wanted to, ykwimmm

Thank you my love <333

no thank you jay! <333 i seriously needed this omg …

m.list request status ( +18. )

“Mm-m-mm! Luci …”

Your moans spilled in time with his thrusts as your fingers curled around cold metal for dear life. It was a long, long way down after all.

Lucifer’s hands crept over either side of you, but from where you stood they looked like claws cornering you in. Your hands and his clutched the same railing, his chest flush against your back.

“You’re taking me so good, sweetie, fuck …” He praised in a low voice. “Mm, but I wonder …”

He’d changed his angle in an instant, and you let out a choked scream. That damned spot.

“Oh? Did I hit the jackpot?” He grunted as he rutted into you in cruel snaps of his hips—each frenzied stroke leaving a sting worse than the last. “Let’s see …”

He dragged his hips away from your ass and pulled out almost completely. A chill breeze blew past before a pang of pleasure erupted in you, quite literally pushing you over the edge with your upper stomach keeling off the rail.

The red buildings swayed and danced in your vision, smoke reduced to nothing more than smudges as you tried to come back from the blow.

He pulled out til only the tip remained at your soaked entrance. “A lovely sound you just made, my love.”

He rammed into you again, your body reverberating from the impact as you shivered uncontrollably. Even now, the circuits in both your brain and your pussy had been fried to a crisp. Your lashes fluttered. Your jaw hung loose.

He chuckled with a grin next to your ear as he planted a wet kiss on your jaw. He ran a hand from the side of your breast all the way down to your hip, gluing himself to your back completely.

“Letting eeeveryone know who’s pleasing you, aren’t you darling?”

“Yes …”

He continued at a slower pace than when he’d stopped, but with all the things he’d already done, it was enough to lift you back on that peak.

“Cumming soon, fuck …”

“Me too,” he hummed your name sweetly, his breath thin as he hissed from the pleasure you coated him in. “Let’s make this count, yeah?”

He didn’t wait for your answer before he returned to that merciless pace you knew all too well, making you cry out for the rest of the pentagram to hear.

#hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel #hazbin lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer magne x reader #lucifer magne #lucifer morningstar x you #( ​✮ hazbin. ) #( ◛ requests. ) #◟𓂅 𓄹 splash zone. #( ໒꒱ hazbin drabbles. )

[i-cant-sing]

okay first i need you guys to see these gigs and have a mental image in mind before I begin word vomiting about Yandere Nanami👁👅👁

If we're going the platonic route, I'm imagining Yandere Nanami just going off the rails when he finds out that baby/teen/adult Fushiguro has entered Shibuya because "I wanna help Gojo escape the box!" And he SAW reader get knocked out by Kenjaku and Mahito who have now kidnapped her. So it's upto papa/godfather Nanami to fucking obliterate everyone until he finds you🥰 (it is very obvious that Nanami does not die in my world) And just like look at the unbridled rage on his face, THE VEINS POPPING, papa Banananananmin is soooo mad at YOU and EVERYONE ELSE because first of all, did he not tell Yuta and the others to keep their eyes on you AND NOT LET YOU ENTER SHIBUYA??? And secondly, why are you going against his direct orders to leave the school grounds??? Eh??? You are in for a LECTURE of your lifetime when he catches you, and you are GROUNDED for life (after he makes you a sandwich ofc)

If we're going down the romantic route, it's Yandere Nanami actually catching reader after she escaped from him and then got attacked by curses so he had to save her, but while he was busy fighting these curses, you had the fucking NERVE to use that as a distraction and run off????? Nuh uh! Nanami, who has been nothing but a complete gentleman to you (except for the part where he kidnapped and locked you away), JUST LOSES IT! He's never been one to resort to violence, he's a gentle lover (frankly he's too tired to hurt you) but perhaps it's time that you and your bottom be brought to a firm hand...

#yandere nanami #yandere nanami kento #yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sorcerer #jjk nanami #nanami kento #nanami x reader

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

You said you'd stay with us (you swore you'd still be you)

absinthe makes the heart grow fonder - series masterlist here

pairing: poly marauders x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.5k

genre: rockstar au !! fluff, hurt/comfort

warnings: drummer reader, some real 'where does the performance end and you begin' vibes, reader smokes, it's inferred that they're also drinking, y'all will have to pry bestie peter from my cold dead hands

a/n: oh uuuuuh more pining more yearning more I'm in love with you but I'm too afraid to make it real. like what if you were all in a band and you were all in love and you were all too scared of fucking it all up to say anything

"You're looking awful glum tonight," James points out as he leans against the railing of the balcony you're on. He doesn't reprimand you for sitting on the railing, but he does frown as he glances down to where the ground is, inching closer to you to place a firm hand on your thigh.

"I called the car around - I'm going back to the hotel. You can let the others know if they notice," you respond in a sigh, the smoke leaving your lungs on the exhale as you bring your cigarette to your lips for another drag.

"…Are you sober right now, love?" James asks, eyeing you carefully. You look at him bemusedly.

"You think I came to a party after our show and… didn't have a single drink?"

"Well…" he says carefully. You narrow your eyes and James grips your thigh a little tighter - a plead for you to hear him out. "You weren't exactly the life of the party tonight, lovely. You disappeared pretty quick. If you have been drinking, that means you've been doing it out here - alone, sitting very precariously on a very high balcony, with no one looking out for you." You've stopped looking at him, keeping your eyes trained on the expansive driveway out front of whoever's house this is. When you see your car pull up, you put out your cigarette easily on the railing before sliding off of it, letting James keep a hand firmly on you, sliding from your thigh up to your waist.

"I don't need a babysitter, James," you say bluntly, but you can't help but soften a bit at the wide, sad eyes he gives you, his bottom lip jutting out slightly. You wonder idly if he realizes he looks at you so often like he's a puppy you've just kicked. "I'll see you tomorrow for rehearsals," you offer gently before you slip away.

In the safety of the backseat of your car, tinted windows blocking out the gaze of the outside world, you let your head lean back against the seat, sighing and closing your eyes as you rub at your temples. The relief is short-lived, however, as the car door is pulled open and James slides into the seat next to you, grinning despite the glare you sent him.

"Didn't really think I'd let you go sit at the hotel sulking all night, did you?" He quips. You bristle.

"I don't sulk," you huff. His smile widens as the car pulls away.

"Sure you don't, sweetheart." He throws an arm around your shoulders and you let him, sighing as you lean against him, resting your head against his chest. "You wanna tell me what's going on?" He asks gently.

"Nothing," is your quick reply. He hums thoughtfully, running a hand through your hair gently.

"Wanna try again?" He's still gentle, a patience seeping from him into you that lulls you as you relax further against him.

"It's just a lot sometimes. I'm tired is all," you admit. James presses a kiss to the crown of your head and your heart does something funny in your chest.

"You're allowed to take a break every now and then, love," he offers. You tense.

"I don't need -"

"No, but you still can," he placates, smoothing his hand over the back of your head as he silently coaxes you into relaxing once more. "I know you don't need to. God knows you'll run on fumes forever and never say a thing about it. But you don't need to - not here, not with us."

James, in all his mother-hen nature, continues to reprimand you in that gentle, caring way of his all the way up to your hotel room, only stopping when you shut yourself in the bathroom and turn the tap on so that you can't hear him. By the time you come out in clothes that are decidedly much more comfortable than what you'd been wearing at the party, he's lounging in your bed and flipping idly through TV channels.

"Oh, sure, make yourself at home," you quip as you flop onto the bed next to him, leaning against the headboard. James grins in that beaming way that he's so fond of, turning the TV volume down to a low, background hum.

"Thanks, love." You scoff at his words.

"Are you planning on staying here all night?" You ask wearily. He pretends to think about it.

"What will you do if I leave?" You shrug, sliding further down in bed and crossing your arms. James opens his mouth to speak and you know he's going to say something about you sulking, so you make a point to wack him with a pillow before he can. He laughs good-naturedly about it, though, so you're not so sure what you've accomplished.

Fortunately, or rather unfortunately, you don't have time to ponder it further before your hotel room door is swinging open and Sirius is flouncing into the room, Remus trailing in after him. You sigh and look at Remus imploringly, but he only shrugs, leaning towards you to squeeze your shoulder in what you're sure is supposed to be comforting before he settles in the armchair next to the bed. Sirius, on the other hand, takes to flopping directly across the bottom of the bed, landing on James's legs and causing some sort of friendly tussle between the two of them.

"This is actually my hotel room, you know," you point out dryly. "How did you even get in here?"

"You gave Peter your spare key," Remus points out.

"Peter doesn't come in unannounced," you shoot back. Sirius and James stop whatever roughhousing they're caught up in so that Sirius can lean over and press a sweaty kiss to your cheek. You click your tongue in annoyance and hope it hides the way your heart flips.

"Cheer up, doll," Sirius says, unperturbed by your scowl. "What were you playing at, anyway? Leaving without telling any of us and thinking we wouldn't notice? Like we wouldn't miss our favourite drummer." You shoot James a look that says you shouldn't have told them and he smiles disarmingly.

"Just because I'm staying in tonight doesn't mean you all have to - and I'm your only drummer, Sirius, in case you've forgotten," you say icily. Sirius smiles, but it's more honest than you're used to, and he reaches across James to smooth a thumb over your cheek quickly before pulling back.

"Could never forget you, love. Not even if I tried." You stare at him, his tone heavier than normal, as Remus shifts and clears his throat.

"Anyway, dove… we just want to make sure you're alright, yea?" He says, and you exhale a breath you didn't know you were holding as the tension dissipates. 

"Everything's fine," you say stubbornly. "I just didn't really feel like being there tonight."

"Well, we can see that," James chimes in. "But you always go to these things. You -"

"I know, I know, ok? I won't - it won't happen like that again, all right?" You huff. "I won't leave like that."

"No, see, I'm not sure you're understanding what Jamie's saying, love," Sirius says, the softness in his voice making your heart drop. It takes a lot for Sirius to be gentle, and he only does it when he thinks he really needs it. "What we're saying is that you don't have to. Pete never goes to the parties - we haven't kicked him out of the band yet, have we?"

"But that's different," you sigh, sitting up straighter. "Pete and I… are different kinds of performers. You know that." Remus leans forward in his chair to put a hand on your knee and you will yourself not to flinch at the contact, not to shy away from the kindness in his eyes that you know he reserves for the people he really loves.

"You don't have to perform here, love," Remus says gently. "You don't have to do that. Not here, not when it's just us." Your bottom lip trembles and you bunch the covers of the bed in your hands.

"Sometimes I think, for you lot, this life is fun… and for me, it's still work. I just can't make myself see it the way you guys do."

"But that's what we're here for," James offers, his voice kind. "Let us help you out. We decided to do this together for a reason, right? You decided to stick with us for a reason."

"I… I did, yea," you say.

"Yea," Sirius repeats. "So let us be here, alright?" Remus rubs his thumb across your knee as the other two look at you expectantly. You smile, a terse, small sort of thing - but it works nonetheless.

"Alright," you sigh. "Together, then."

#smsn.writes #poly marauders #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #james potter x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #rockstar au #sirius black imagine #sirius black fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fic #james potter imagine #james potter fic #sirius black fluff #remus lupin fluff #james potter fluff #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #marauders band au

[voidpetrova]

reader & rafe at midsummers/cameron family event and getting in trouble for basically fucking right there bc rafe doesn’t care who sees😩😩😩

put on a show — rafe cameron x reader

☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, softish!bf!rafe, explicit unprotected sex, tit play, spanking, vouyerism, public sex, dirty talk — smut

˚♡ ｡˚ synopsis: they'd give it all up to spend a second in rafe's shoes, with you on their arm, but some wishes do more harm than good

✧.*

oh, to have it all. to have everything you've ever wanted and so much more. to throw money at any problem in your way, to rely on everyone but yourself in order to have what you want. big villas, expensive champagne, fresh seafood, fast cars, pretty women, and parents who never gave a shit about their kids. that was the life you had dreamed of, and the one you were currently living.

on the ocean course of kiawah island, you seemed like nothing but a dazzling accessory on rafe's arm—pure eye candy, all eyes on you, none of the attention on him. everybody was looking at you. midsummer events were made to live in the moment, to rid yourself of stress in order to feel the wind in your hair and the cool summer breeze on your aching tan lines. unfortunately, they were also made to show off by, not saying, but showing—my cars are faster than yours, my mansion is cleaner, my pockets are heavier, and with you standing with someone like rafe? it was only fair to assume you were just a trophy he could show off.

that wasn't the case. nobody had to know it, it was nobody's business but yours amd rafe's. you were well aware of the reputation your boyfriend had gained, the infamous status he had earned through the consequences of his own actions. you had been aware of it from the moment you met him, but you did something for rafe that no one else had done for him. something that had unintentionally broken down his stone cold walls of confinement he had spent his life building, revealing a treasured part of him that no one got to see, but you. you gave him a chance.

you were willing to take the risk. you were willing to sit through his anger issues, his fits of rage. you'd be lying if you said you haven't ended up in tears, sobbing on the cold floor after an argument, after he had gone off the rails once more, but you never gave up on him. he would leave you in an attempt to seek solace on his own, to calm down. each time he was on his way back, he had expected you to be long gone, but you never were. you would always be there, waiting for him with opens arms.

it softened his heart, knowing that someone was willing to put up with his issues. he couldn't put up with his issues, yet you found a way. you found a way past the misconceptions people had of him—past his jealousy, his need to control and manipulate, his fits of pure aggression that often led to threats and punches. you met him at his worst and stuck it out with him. he was still flawed, slightly more than your average kook, but nothing you couldn't handle.

the sun's radiant rays practically bounced off your skin, illuminating your eyes as you gazed up to look at your boyfriend. he was so fond of the sight of you, eyes soaking in admiration as a smile graced his lips. you were so magnetic to him, so stunning. it was a popular opinion amongst both kooks and pogues, but nobody would have you the way rafe did. “how are you feeling?” you murmured, voice gentle as you gestured toward john b's group yards away from the two of you. rafe was tense, you could feel it even as you held his hand, but he shook his head. “it's not worth it.”

he had all the time in the world to go after the pogues, all he wanted to do right then and there, was to spend some time with you. nothing more nor less to it. although, during every event, there always came a pivotal point where rafe's feelings would get the best of him. he would try his best to stay strong, to refrain from causing anybody harm, but sometimes? he had to do this his way, just to make his point. this was one of those times.

“hot for an ex-pogue, that's what i think,” one voice from behind commented. the unfamiliar face was accompanied by two more unfamiliar faces, who also chimed in. “nah, rafe can't handle allat. she's a knockout.” you were a knockout, that was a common fact. rafe was no longer looking at you; his eyes were glued primarily on the group of guys sitting in the background, his blood boiling as he listened to their shared snickers and comments. you desperately called for his attention.

“rafey, come on,” you held onto his hand, tugging at it ever so gently as you frowned, face drenched in worry. if you weren't able to stop him, who knows what would happen? he was capable of just about anything. “don't do anything to them, it isn't worth it.” for a split second, he glanced back at you, face softening the second he saw how worried you really were.

truth be told, in that moment, rafe felt as if he was the most intelligent kook to ever live. every thought about how long he could beat those guys without security coming, and how fun it would be to peel back their nails for every apology they uttered, went right out the window. you were right, they weren't worth it. not in front of everyone, at least. you were worth it. you were the grand prize men spent drooling over the minute you showed up—the same one women spent sneering at. ever since you had gotten together, it had been nothing but the same condescending comments. it pained him as much as it angered him, knowing everyone wanted what was his.

“you're right,” he replied dryly, and you swore his eyes darkened. it was his turn to hold your hand, pulling gently as he turned on his heel. “come with me, princess.”

more confused than worried, you did as you were told, following his tracks as he pushed past all the eager hands and widening eyes glued to you, his grip tightening with every step. he led you down the halls and helped you down the stairs. as the crowd's laughter died down, you neared a secluded room down the hall. you couldn't figure out what it was, for whom it was, but you didn't bother to question rafe as he forced the door open, ushering you inside.

despite the closed door, there was a wide and tall array of windows—more windows than walls themselves, actually. rafe noticed this, muttering a quiet “fuck,” under his breath before leaning against one of the windows. you frowned, walking towards him as you watched everyone outside, analyzing the tiny selections of unaware bystanders. “rafey, what's wrong?” you whispered, the back of your hand caressing his cheek. “can't stand it anymore, (y/n),” he shook his head. “can't stand the way they all leer at you.”

his jealousy had been an ongoing, consistent problem for him all throughout his life. as a kid, he was jealous of the other kids with better shoes. as a teenager, he was jealous of the ones with loving fathers. during his young adult years, all he's been jealous of was the way people stared with watchful eyes, praying that someday you could be theirs instead of his.

“no one else will ever have me,” you assured him, stroking his hair as he gazed up at you. “not the way you have me. not now, not ever. i can promise you that much.”

he loved knowing, despite it all, that you were his. you were his, despite the stares. despite the ongoing, blood-boiling comments. despite the praises and the compliments and the sheer amount of people submitting to you every day, just for an ounce of attention, you were still his. he couldn't make anyone accept it, but he could definitely make them wish they were dead.

“rafey,” you didn't have time to finish, not a second longer. he stood up, hands cupping your jaw as he pressed a kiss to your lips. your eyes fluttered, as if a common reflex, as you kissed him back just as sweetly. the kiss deepened, your mouths melting together as you stepped back, looking for leverage before your back hit the wall. his hands slid up your waist, right up your back as he pushed your arms up against the wall, kiss never coming to a halt.

the air was hot as you moaned quietly against his mouth, put in your place and unable to fight against his grip. he held your arms down with one arm, using the free one to explore every crevice of your body. he traced every curve, hands calloused, cold and rough against the bare, warm skin under your dress. “so perfect for me,” he gasped out, inches away from your mouth as he savored the drool from your lips. he couldn't control himself, rough palm squeezing your barely-clothed tits, thumbing each nipple as he tsked. “almost like you want everyone to stare, yeah?”

you moaned at the sensation, at a complete loss of words. he brought his knee up, sticking it in between your legs. a gasp left your mouth at the feeling of his rough knee, decorated by his dress pants, against your lacy underwear. you couldn't help but rut your hips against his knee, bottom lip tucked between your teeth and mouth open as you chased a friction of any kind. your boyfriend retracted his knee, a smirk playing on his lips as a whine of protest left his lips. “rafey, no—”

“why don't you answer my question first, yeah?” you frowned, eyes glossy as you stared at him. “don't want anyone else to watch, rafey. just you.”

he seemed pleased with your answer, hitching your dress up, the sight of your soaked lacy pink panties causing the strain in his pants to tighten. “i'm so glad to hear that, baby,” he cooed. before you could even smile, you were flipped toward the windows, hands pressed against the glass. “unfortunately, that won't be the case tonight.”

you couldn't even struggle with the position you were in, eyes widening as you realized what he was planning. “you aren't serious, are you?” all you earned at first was a dry laugh in return, but the sound of his pants dropping was enough for you. you caught the sight of him in the mirror, his collared shirt hanging just above his hips, v-line toned and his cock erect in his grey boxers. you swallowed at the sight, failing to catch his smirk. “there a problem, sweetheart?”

his rough hands traced your bare ass, fingers desperately pulling down your panties as he groaned quietly, watching you spread out and bent over for him. a string of slick connected your bare cunt and panties as he slid them down your thighs, and that was enough for him. he slid his own boxers down, sighing as the cool air hit his flushed, painfully hard dick. he brought his palm down against the flesh of your ass, a yelp leaving your mouth as the sting spread across your skin. he couldn't help but laugh.

“careful with those noises, princess,” he nodded toward the window. the one with a picture-perfect view of the inside catastrophe that was unfolding. all it took was for one person to turn around, and a nightmare would come true. “or, don't. let them see and hear how good i fuck you.”

that should have been your warning, because you had absolutely no time to react. not with him pushing into you, his tip squeezing between your tight, wet walls. you gasped, the foreign size intruding sending you into pre-oblivion. “shit, fuck, rafe, 's too big,” you barely croaked out. he groaned loudly, the feeling of your pussy sucking him in raw ready to send him over the edge. he watched the people outside, waiting for someone to finally turn around and get a load of the sight he had especially prepared for them. he wanted them to see past their delusions, realize who you belonged to.

“pussy suckin' me in too good,” he grunted, hands gripping the sweet flesh of your ass as he slowly began to drill your sopping cunt. you moaned at the sudden change, taking in every vein and every inch that fucked into your cervix. “drippin' all over my cock, baby.” his words made you whine, back arching as he watched your cunt engulf his cock whole.

he stared at you wherever he got the chance. his eyes watched the way your back curved for him, the way your ass rippled with every thrust that came your way, the way he'd just look straight and watch your tits jump with every second he spent plowing your cunt. he watched the way your mouth hung open, a string of moans passing your glossy lips. “never gonna get fucked this good,” he growled, and it was a promise. he grabbed a fist full of your hair, twisting and pulling your head back as he leaned in, pressing his lips against your ear. you moaned at the way your scalp tingled, the way he went even deeper, the sound of your pussy squelching accompanying your moans. “let'm know who fucks you this good, princess.”

he didn't have to tell you twice. it was all too overwhelming, anyway. the way he bit your earlobe while pounding your sweet, abused pussy, hitting your sweet spot while his free hand toyed with your tits, twisting and flicking the nipples beforw dropping to your clit, giving generous rubs to your slick, sweet bundle of nerves. “rafe, please, i'm gonna cum,” you moaned, and all he could do was continue, rubbing faster and harder as he continued to pound into you, balls tightening as your cunt gave his dick a sweet, hard squeeze.

he grunted, and looked up and through the window. he watched carefully, eyes scanning the lawn before stopping once the gaze had been returned. he stopped, a devious smirk playing on his face the minute he realized who was staring. the guy from earlier, the one who was so eager to get any kind of reaction from you. he stood there, alongside one of his friends, jaw hanging and eyes wide in pure shock. he gestured with his eyes toward your face, making sure he watched the way your face scrunched up in pure pleasure as he continued to fuck your pussy open. he made sure all of it was seen.

“right behind you, princess.”

#outer banks #obx #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks smut #outer banks x reader #obx smut #obx x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe cameron x reader smut

[celtic-crossbow]

I’d Break the Back of Love for You

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (No France)

Warnings: Oral (f receiving), sexual situations

Summary: You have some serious appreciation for Daryl’s shoulders.

A/N: As you should, reader. As you should.

gif by @daryl-dixon-daydreams

“How long will you be gone?” You asked before popping a strawberry into your mouth. Daryl had brought them home upon his return only two days prior. You didn’t ask where he found them and he didn’t offer, but he wasn't banged up so he likely didn’t risk life and limb for them. Well, anymore than he always did by going outside the safety of the Commonwealth. 

He was already gathering supplies to head out again after a broadcast that Eugene had picked up on the radio. There wasn’t much to it. Just a couple of scrambled words and a lot of static. Not enough, in your opinion, for Daryl to run out and risk himself. 

The archer gave you a quick look, a corner of his mouth tugging upward when he noticed the plate of strawberries by your hip. “Few days maybe.” He answered, wrapping some bread and grabbing a couple of refilled bottles of water. He placed the items next to his shirt, on the counter you were currently calling a seat. 

When he scratched at his chin, your eyes followed his movements but lingered once he had dropped his hand and moved on with packing. His goatee was more of a starter beard these days, no time for trimming. It didn’t bother you. The salt-n-pepper hair felt good when scratching against the right patches of skin. 

There were so many things about your archer that you could admire in that regard all day if you ever had the chance. 

The obvious one being his cock. You couldn’t say it was the biggest you’d ever seen but it was definitely to be admired. The first time, back on the Greene farm, he’d pushed into you and you’d nearly came from the stretch alone. It wasn’t just about size though. The man knew how to use it to make you come apart over and over. It always made you want to giggle when you would think back to how socially stunted he had been one day and then the next, he was fucking you stupid over Hershel’s porch railing. 

His hair was so long now, the waves taking off a few inches. It was well onto his back when wet. You could still remember when it was barely over his eyes. You had loved it then too. But now, when you would bathe together, you’d have him sit in front of you so you could wash it for him. You’d always end up playing with it; braiding it or carding your fingers through it. However, the best thing was how it clung to his face and neck when he was sweaty after a thorough fucking. You’d push it off of his face, letting your fingers catch on the tangles as you kissed him. 

His hands were so much bigger than yours. On the few lazy mornings you were granted, when Carol would get the kids to school for you, you’d just lie there and hold your hands together. With your palm flat against his, he could bend his fingers over the tops of your own. It was easy to imagine his thick fingers inside of you. He had sent you tumbling into oblivion plenty of times with only one curling within your walls. Those hands didn’t just hold weapons; they worked magic, too. 

But it was the man’s shoulders that did you in. All that lean muscle that contracted and moved as he lifted and tugged at things to pack. You’d never admit it, but the nights alone in his absence, it was the thought of your legs over those broad shoulders and his face buried in your cunt that brought you to completion over and over. 

You really needed to hide any of his shirts that weren’t tank tops. 

Who would’ve thought that out of any part of that man, the one that would make you almost instantly wet was his “shoulders—”

“What?” 

You shook your head and looked around a bit wildly until you found his gaze and locked on. “Hmm?” 

“What ‘bout my shoulders?” He asked as you lifted another strawberry toward your lips. His question had you fumbling the fruit, catching it at the last second before it could fall to the floor. 

You laughed nervously. “Shoulders? What? I didn’t say—” you stuffed the entire berry into your mouth to stop your embarrassing rambling. Hopefully, he’d just let it go and keep packing. 

That hope went careening out the window when he looked down at his right shoulder and then back at you, a smirk on his face and a twinkle in his eye. 

“Nah, ya definitely said somethin’ ‘bout shoulders.” He sat the canteen he had been about to fill next to the sink and started walking toward you. “Still got my hearin’, Sunshine.”

You felt heat pooling in your cheeks and…other places when he leaned into your space, a hand braced on either side of your hips. The strawberry was swallowed down with an audible gulp. 

“I, uh, like your shoulders.” You whispered. Daryl laughed in the form of an exhale and leaned in closer, his lips coming to press against the side of your neck. Maintaining any sort of control was almost futile. “Daryl, you need to get packed.” You attempted to sway him but he simply hummed against your flesh. 

“Whatcha thinkin’, pretty girl?”

You groaned but leaned back your head to grant him more access. “A lot of things that are gonna make you late.” He didn’t respond to that. Not verbally. He grabbed your hips and pulled your body to the edge of the countertop, your groin coming into contact with the evidence of his own arousal. 

“You’re right.” He rasped against your collarbone. With one roll of his hips, you both gasped from the friction. “I guess I should be gettin’ on with packin’.” He rolled his hips again, growling against your jaw. “D’rather have those legs’a yours over these shoulders.”

You whimpered and squirmed against him, mewling when the rough fabric of his jeans grazed against your sensitive core through your thin sleep shorts and panties. That voice of his always made you putty in his hands. “I—please, Daryl.” 

“M’gonna give ya whatcha need, Sunshine.” He leaned back and tapped both of your biceps. “Up.” Your arms were immediately raised and your shirt pulled over and off. The cold air against your nipples had them hardening before Daryl could even touch you. 

Your small hands found his shoulders, gripping tight while he worshiped your breasts with mouth and hands. The skin of his palms was rough and calloused but that alone brought you so much pleasure. He cupped your left breast, kneading the soft mound and pinching your nipple while circling his tongue over its twin. You had never been so sensitive to a man’s touch in your life, but Daryl could play your body like an instrument. 

He pulled off of your breast with a wet pop and searched out your lips, his tongue pressing through to tangle with your own. 

“Lay back.” He ordered against your mouth. You did as you were told, only slightly embarrassed by how you knew your wetness was showing through your shorts. Of course, that was the first thing he noticed when he took a step back. “So wet for me an’ I’ve barely touched ya.” His thumb pressed into your clothed opening and trekked upward, earning a few panted moans and a raise of your hips. 

He continued past your pussy until he reached the waistband and turned his hand to dip his fingers underneath it. Joined by his other, he pulled your shorts and panties off in slow movements, letting them fall onto the floor. 

His large hands pressed into your inner thighs to open you up so wide that it bordered painful. All you could do was bite your lip and watch him. His tongue creeped across his bottom lip, and you shivered. 

“Prettiest pussy there ever was.” He commented absently, releasing one of your legs so he could slide his index finger up and down your slick lips. He was rewarded with a needy whine and the sight of you clenching around nothing. With a smirk, he moved his finger straight to his mouth, not pushing it past his lips until you opened your eyes. “Sweet lil’ thing too.”

“Daryl.” You whined. You both knew you weren’t above begging. It was only a matter of whether or not he wanted to hear it this time. 

“I gotcha, Sunshine. Gonna make ya feel real good, okay?”

You had zero doubt about that. 

“Sit up for me.” 

You planted your palms on the counter and came up to meet him, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck to drag him in for a kiss. He chuckled, a sound you adored, and pulled away from you to sink to one knee. A sweet kiss was pressed into your left thigh and then he was looking up at you. Oh, you were burning that sight into your memory for later. He placed his hands beneath your knees and stilled, smirking. 

“You’re gonna need to hold on, pretty thing.”

You gave him a quizzical look but then he pulled you forward, his face diving into your waiting cunt as his hands quickly moved to your ass. You had just enough time to twist your fingers in his hair before he was rising from the floor. 

“Oh, fuck.” You yelped, not just at the sensation of his tongue breaching your opening, but also at being six feet off the ground. How the man knew where to walk was anyone’s guess but his steps were sure. Your back pressed against the wall beside the refrigerator, giving him a little leverage to really work at your pussy in earnest. 

The initial shock had worn off, now replaced by the sensations his mouth was causing and the absolute thrill of legitimately being perched on those fucking shoulders while he devoured you like a man starved. 

“Fuck, that feels good.” You praised, fisting one hand in his hair while the other came up to palm the wall beside your head. He knew exactly what he was doing in every sense at that moment. You could feel the tense muscle below your thighs. His tongue delving deep inside your fluttering walls. His nose rubbing against your rapidly swelling clit. His beard scraping your overheated flesh. 

A new wave of arousal seeped out of you and he groaned, happily lapping it up with sounds that definitely did not belong in a kitchen. The cord inside you was heating up, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly, an absolutely delicious feeling of both tension and ecstasy building and yearning just below the skin. 

When he slid his tongue up through your wetness to flick at your clit, you almost couldn’t stand it; desperate to cum and hear him cooing praises after he drank every drop, but also wanting to savor the delectable journey toward an inevitable mind blowing orgasm that would likely leave you unable to speak anything but his name. 

“Fuck, oh, right there!” You slapped your palm once against the wall with a long, wanton moan. You wanted to grind against his face, aid in coaxing your high out of you, but he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking. His grip on your ass tightened and he pressed face even closer to you, lips encircling your bundle of nerves to suck at it while his tongue worked it from inside his mouth. “Goddamn, Daryl! Fuck!”

He went back to kitten licks, tilting his head down so his nose continued to press at your pulsing nub while he slurped up any new arousal that had dripped out of your entrance.

He was killing you. And you loved it. 

Daryl Dixon may have been called many things in his life, but absolute destroyer of pussy needed to be added to that list. When he wasn’t sucking your ability to think right out of your clit, maybe you could remember to call him that in front of one of your friends. 

“Fuck.” You felt like you could almost cry, your orgasm not just creeping closer but sprinting. “Daryl, I’m—I’m gonna cum.” He gave your ass a hard squeeze, his way of demanding you let go. 

It was gradual, a pins and needles sensation that started from where his lips pulled tightly on your clit and spread out through your limbs, causing them to begin trembling. Then it was all at once, a wave of pleasure hit you so hard that you jerked and the back of your head hit the wall while your hands pulled roughly on his hair. There were a few moments unaccounted for, your vision overtaken by darkness and stars and the distant sounds of your own screams of his name. 

When you came back to yourself, your arms were dangling uselessly. You were panting while your body spasmed through the last pulses of your high. And Daryl was eagerly lapping up every drop. 

Once you were completely spent, you felt one of his large hands slid up to brace the small of your back while the other lifted one of your legs from his shoulder. He switched, gripping just above your hip on that side to keep you from falling while he moved your other leg. Then you were sliding down until he stopped you just in front of his face, his lips readily pressing against yours. 

You could taste yourself on his tongue, feel your own wetness smearing across your face from where it had gathered on his beard. The kiss itself was sweet and lazy and loving, whispered praises between each press of his lips. Your feet slowly touched the floor and his hands came up to cradle your face. 

You wanted to melt against him and beg him not to leave you. To clean you up and take you to bed so you could surprise you both by climbing above him and riding him until he filled you over and over. That fantasy had you reaching to cup him through his pants, feeling the straining hardness for only a moment before he gently grabbed your wrist. 

“Let’s take a bath an’ getcha cleaned up an’ ready for bed.”

You pulled back, frowning in confusion. “Don’t you have to leave?” You felt your heart spin when he gave you the sweetest smile; the one he gave to only you. 

“Nah, need to be here.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, one side and then the other, before gently cupping your chin and kissing you. “They can send someone else.”

“You mean it?” You asked, eyes sparkling with more hope than you meant to reveal. 

“Nah, lemme go an’ finish packin’.” He started to turn away but you caught one of those beautiful shoulders to easily spin him back to you. He deflected your attempt to smack him by ducking and hoisting you up over the very same shoulder you had grabbed. “You’re stuck with me.” 

“Oh, woe is me!” You laughed, kicking your legs to get out of his hold. You didn’t even remember you were still naked until he gave your ass a gentle smack as he walked up the stairs. Once at the top, you wiggled forward so you could reach and slap his ass one good time. “Hey, if that’s what happens when I say your shoulders are sexy, what would you do if I said you have a nice ass?” 

He barked out a laugh that you didn’t hear often enough and used the heel of his boot to kick the door closed. 

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #the walking dead #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon smut #daryl smut #daryl dixon the walking dead #twd daryl #the walking dead daryl dixon #the walking dead daryl #daryl #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl x y/n #daryl x female reader #daryl fanfiction #daryl imagines #daryl drabbles #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon drabbles #twd daryl dixon #daryl twd #daryl x you #daryl x reader #Spotify

[penelopepine]

Don't be a stranger! Pt. 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Simon "Ghost" Riley x FemReader

Content: Neighbors AU, fluff, developing relationship

"If you're going to insist on making dinner for the both of us I might as well pay for the groceries." Simon was standing next to your door waiting for you to finish getting ready. You had asked him this morning what he wanted for dinner as you were going to the store after work and could get anything he wanted.

"Me making dinner for you is supposed to be a thank you for helping me Simon. I love that you're joining me, but I'm not going to let you pay."

"We'll see."

You finally walk out of your bedroom towards Simon, "Your job on this trip is going to be pushing the cart and looking pretty. I'm going to be grabbing everything and paying." Giving Simon a playful glare as the two of you makes your way out the door.

Pretty?

Do you really think he looks pretty? 

-

Simon hated grocery shopping; he has always felt that it was a waste of time, far too many people walking around, and the lights in here were almost blinding. He’s not happy to be here, but he also wasn’t going to let you continue to let you do all this work and not help in some way. 

At the very least shopping with you did make the experience more enjoyable. All he had to do was follow you. Letting you take control of where they went and did was strangely freeing from his usual day to day. Plus getting to just watch and listen to you ramble about your day was not something he was going to give up now that he’s here. 

"You know you still haven't told me what you wanted. I've been making my favorites every time you come over; it's your turn now to decide the menu." 

"I've been living off military mess hall food for most of my life. Anything you make is going to be a favorite of mine, love."

"How about you tell me at least one thing you want?" 

"Anything I want?"

"Anything!" 

You. 

That is the answer Simon wants to say, but he knows he can't, "I like shepherd’s pie.” 

“Shepherd’s pie it is!” You say, giving him a wide grin. 

The rest of the shopping is mostly uneventful. It isn't until the two of you were at the end of your grocery list did you seem to realize something was missing. 

“Oh, meet me at the front! I forgot to add apples to the list; I’ll go grab it real quick.” 

Before Simon could even disagree and say he’d just go with you; your figure was already speeding away from him. Slowly he made his way to the front of the store out of the way of others to wait. It wasn’t until eight minutes later when he saw no sign of you that he started to worry. 

It took all but a moment to find you, and he was not pleased with what he saw when he did. A man was standing far too close to you. The uncomfortable look on your face only served in sealing the man’s fate. 

Neither of you seemed to notice as he walked closer, but he was able to finally hear your conversation now. 

“-on, just one date. I promise I’ll make it worth it.” 

"My boyfriend is waiting for me; you need to leave me alone." You try to step around him, but the man is quick to side step in front of you and makes a move to grab you. Simon would happily beat the man into the ground, but he doesn’t want to frighten you. So he does the next best thing which is to rail the man with the cart. 

With a loud grunt the man falls onto the ground holding his side in pain. 

“She said to leave her alone. So why don’t you crawl away now like the worm you are.” Simon snarls down at him. Moving the cart and himself to stand between you and the man. 

"What the fuck man!" 

"I'll give you five seconds to get out of here." Simon wasn't about to have a pointless back and forth with this guy. The only thing he cared about right now was getting him away from you.

He stands slowly and glares in your direction before practically running away from Simon and you.

As soon as his figure disappears from sight Simon turns to you and gently grips your shoulder; tucking you into his side as he guides you back to the front of the store.

"Thank you for doing that; you didn't have to but I really appreciate it." 

"It's no problem," Simon continued his hold on your shoulder; not wanting to yet let go of you, "If anyone messes with you send them my way. I'll deal with them." 

You give him a smile in return. "That was honestly really funny by the way; hitting him with the cart." 

"I would have ran him over with it, but I didn’t want you having to find a new grocery store because I got the two of us banned." 

You laugh at his words and it makes his chest feel tight. He almost wants to record it just so that he could take it with him anywhere he goes. 

"C'mon, let's get out of here before they change their minds then!" 

Simon had of course won in the end when it came to who was going to be paying. He knew he would, but you still put in a good fight to beat him to it. He’d let you win in a lot of things, but this wasn’t one of them. 

-

It wasn’t until the two of you were sitting in your flat after eating did you seem to notice that he had been acting more reserved than he normally would be. Of course you weren’t about to just let him stew in thoughts for long once you caught on to it. 

“What’s wrong Simon? You’re acting a lot broodier tonight.” 

“I’m leaving soon; next week.” There was no point in lying to you; Simon had gotten the call from Price just a couple of days ago. He had been wondering how he was going to break the news to you. 

“Leaving? So soon; do you know when you’ll be back?”

No he doesn’t know when he’ll get to see you again. For all he knows the day he leaves could be the last day the two of you ever see each other again. “No, but I’ll see what I can do to come back soon.” 

“You better,” You give him a soft elbow jab to the side, “I’m gonna miss you y'know. I’ve gotten so used to having you around these past few weeks.” 

He had as well, almost regrettably so. Your presence in his life had done something to him that he’d never be able to undo. Simon wasn’t sure how he was going to feel not being able to see you. The daily morning walks, evening dinners, and weekend hangouts had quickly become a staple in his life. 

For now though the only thing he wanted to do was live in the moment. He didn’t have to say goodbye right now and he wasn’t going to act like he did while he was with you. That time would come later.

Taglist:

@nexthyperfix @spicyspicyliving

#simon riley x reader #fem reader #x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #task force 141 #tf 141 #call of duty #female reader

[presleyanswrites]

Hey I got a request for jj

That jj is a single dad to a baby girl and he is to scared to hold because he will think he will drop her and John b everyday will try and get jj to hold her then one day jj was holding her on his chest then he takes her everywhere With him hope that make sense

Koala Care

dad!jj x fem!reader x daughter

a/n ahh this is so cutie! thank you for the request anon, love you bunches!

desc JJ holds his baby girl for the first time

wc 1.2k

warnings cursing, grammar, fluff

"Peaches?" JJ comes in through the back door of the chateau, carefully shutting it behind him as he walks through the kitchen to set down a box full of baby supplies.

The usual. Diapers, baby food, her favorite yogurt melts, more of his old band & surf t-shirts to wrap her up in.

He notices Aria crying her eyes out behind him in between the white rails of her bed. he must have forgotten to change her when he left. He also noticed it was pissing off John B who was trying to work on something probably useless and he caught the hint that he's been listening to her cry for at least an hour.

"Shit," he mutters, messing with his backwards hat as he turns his attention away from Aria for a split second to glance at John B. Turns out he was fixing a cooler for the boat.

"Bro." he goes over to him, kicking him in the leg slightly, "You seen Y/n? I really need her help knowing what measurements of tit milk I'm supposed to feed mini me."

John B rolls his eyes to the ceiling as he screws in the side of the cooler handle.

"First of all," he says through a gritted tone from a bolt in between his teeth.

"You gotta stop with the teenage boy, language wording shit."

He spits out the bolt and screws another nail into the bottom.

"You're like a dad now. Its your dick and your daughter, buddy. You really want your kid to go around saying, tit milk?"

JJ tuts. "Bro she cant even talk yet. Plus, I don't remember half the shit i said as a fucking baby. Maybe thats cause my dad probably beat the shit out of me where I like- lost half my cells, but i ain't changing. Plus, daddy will raise her to be the best hooker of man kind. Shes a Pogue, shes not gonna be a goody two shoes if my life depends on it."

John B turns his head around and gives him a look.

"Jesus Christ JJ, did anything click when your girlfriend popped a living thing out of her ass?" He purses his lips.

JJ points his lips downwards and shrugs.

"Or are you always gonna be known as the dad who raised a stripper?" John B rolls his eyes again, taking a weird clear plate out of his box, "Y/n is a doctor for fucks sake, she's the only hope for raising her I swear to God."

John B shakes his head, "I've told you everyday now. You haven't even held her yet."

JJ grips his hat, "Thats because im gonna drop the kid!"

John b slaps his forehead.

"You're litterally her DAD, JJ! Y/n popped a baby out of her kitty sack and you seriously didnt even touch her the day she was born." John B raises his eyebrows. "Do you remember that? Y/n cried in Kie's room FOR AN HOUR thinking you didnt want the kid!"

JJ opens his mouth to respond then stops.

"Whatever. Go back to fixing your cold box and shit," He turns his back to walk away.

John B changes the tip on his screwdriver, "You're gonna have to hold your own ass daughter eventually, dude."

"I hope you screw a nail in your dick!" JJ calls out and tuts again, mumbling under his breath, "teaching me how to handle my own kid..."

"im the one fixing this goddamn cooler so you can drink your shit ass blue moon chilled!" John b yells back, JJ opening the door and slamming it shut to try and find you again.

"y/nnnn," he groans, calling out your name, finding you sitting on the steps outside.

He kneels down and wraps his big arms around you, kissing the side of your head gently.

"Hi baby," he mutters, "How was work?"

you felt your head pulsating before forcing yourself to give a response.

"Hmmm fine. it was busy."

"Yeah?" he strokes your head, "Real quick."

You sigh slightly, "Hmm?"

"how much ti-" He stops, and clears his throat.

"How much milk do I need to feed Ari?" He says in a soft voice, knowing you had a blaring headache from your shift.

You exhale, leaning your arms on your knees.

"theres about 7 oz in the fridge."

He nods, "thank you sweets," he kisses your hair one last time before leaving you in peace to rest your mind.

He goes back inside the chateau, opening the fridge and taking out the bottle, reaching over Aria's crib and putting the tip to her mouth.

"there we are, sweet girl.." he holds the back of her head while she drinks gently, her cries settling down.

After Aria is finished, he stares at her for a moment.

Why was it so hard for him to hold his own daughter? He feels a wave of guilt floods over his spine.

He reaches his hands out, then stops.

"God damnit," He sighs.

"Okay." He stares at Aria one more time. "3, 2.."

"Fuck this."

He picks Aria up gently in his arms, his heart jumping as he does so.

"Holy shit," he breathes. "Oh my God."

He holds her to his chest, making sure to support her back, something he learned in a parenting book he found online as he feels his soul melt in his stomach.

"There we go," he coos softly, rocking her up and down gently.

"Hi love." he holds her up to look in her eyes with the biggest grin on his face.

"You have your mommas eyes, don't you?"

It's like he fell in love with you all over again. Just this time, it was a baby. And it was his baby.

He holds her to him again, hearing you opening the screen door to come back inside the chateau as he looks at you with the stupidest smile on his face.

"JJ.." you breathe, a grin full of your white perfect teeth filling the room as you jog over to him.

You rub his arm gently as you stare at Aria in JJ's arms.

"im so glad." You said, tears slightly filling the bottom of your eyes as your breath catches in your throat.

"She has your eyes," He repeats the observation he made earlier.

You nod with a sniffle, chuckling slightly.

"She has your lips."

JJ presses another soft kiss into the side of your neck.

A few days later, you noticed that JJ dorkily bought one of those baby carrier things to attach to your chest, and you had to admit it was pretty cute seeing Aria giggle with him, taking her everywhere he went.

John B was relieved her finally built up the balls to hold his kid, and if you were honest, you were relieved too.

Kiara bullied him everyday for taking Aria with him everywhere because the baby holder he chose was literally hot pink. Really hot pink.

He was so happy everyday. To be the dad that he never had. The one he had prayed and wished for everyday as a kid.

JJ was such a tough guy, tough face, tough love, tough soul.

but I guess not when it came to you and Aria. You and her were his new world and there was nothing in the entire universe that could take that away from him.

☆ divider & gif credits to @viixcyre @baby-bearie

my navigation ♡

#jj maybank #jj maybank obx #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank fluff #jj maybank x you #dad jj maybank #obx #outer banks #obx fic #jj maybank smut #jj maybank x reader #jj mayback imagine #jj mayback x reader #jj x y/n #jj x you #jj x reader #jj fanfiction #jj fic #jj #outer banks x y/n #outer banks x you #outerbanks jj #outerbanks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks jj #outer banks x reader #jj obx #obx smut

[milkywaydrabbles]

Omg the Rindou one 🫣

Could you write bf Rin again with #4 kinktober, like maybe after an argument/fight??

A/N: sheesh Rindou got me down bad rn that's crazy. Thank you for the req, I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! MWUAH

CW: toxic? (they love each other it's a work in progress), doggy, smacking, demeaning,

Hate Sex x Haitani Rindou

“Fuck you, Rin!” Another loud thwack to your ass accompanied with more wet smacks against your hips.

“That’s what I’m fuckin’ doin’, sweetheart. Or are you too stupid to realize?” He sneered behind you, shoving your face deeper into the mattress as he continued to rail you. Messing with Rindou when he was pissed was already a nightmare on its own. But Rindou when he’s pissed and jealous? You might as well have been arguing with a damn wall all night. He doesn’t like bringing you around to Bonten galas, ever. Not because he’s ashamed, or doesn’t want you around that life--he just can’t stand the vultures eyeing you up like a piece of meat all night. You were hot, the sexiest piece of ass on this side of town if you asked him. They would have to be blind not to notice how attractive you are. But that was the problem: All these men acting like leeches trying to woo you, steal you away from under him. (Of course that’s before they knew you were one of their head benefactors’ girlfriend. Happens too often for his liking).  You weren’t dumb, you knew these men kept throwing themselves at you, with empty promises of riches and a life of luxury, as if you’d ever think about being with them when you had your perfect man already. Even if you continued to push them away, each time Rin caught a glimpse of someone putting their hand on you even for a second it made his blood boil. So, he was already pissed off.

But then there was that one dickhead that wouldn’t back off. And the worst part about it is you allowed it. To your defense really, he mostly just spoke about the business, you wouldn’t dare open your lips to spill secrets but you let him talk anyways. It was seemingly innocent, he never tried touching you, he kept a reasonable amount of space, was always cordial. But he showed his true colors when he knew you weren’t watching. He’d always eye up your tits, or your ass, even being so bold at looking at Rindou right after and raising a glass in his direction with a glint in his eye. The fucking nerve got make crude gestures towards you. And then go right back to conversing like nothing happened. That was the last damn straw. Rindou was seething, seeing red, storming over to you and grabbing you by the arm, mumbling a ‘we’re leaving’ and promptly exiting the entire gala. 

“What is your problem Rin?!” You were frustrated at how he was handling you, and how he wasn’t talking at all. He slammed the door to your shared apartment so hard you swore you heard the hinges creak. “My problem? My problem is you letting that fucking asshole all over you!” He yelled back, pacing around the room. You scoffed, “oh fucking please. He only talked about his fucking business Rin. He didn’t even touch me.” 

“You should have seen the way he was practically eye fucking you, are you kidding? Or are you too stupid to realize?” You walked over to Rin ready to slap him, hand reeling back--only to be caught in his grasp and pulled forward, catching your lips in a heated kiss. It was all tongue and teeth, biting down on your lip to invade your mouth immediately after, taking over your senses.  One thing led to another, bringing you to where you are now, snug underneath him with your ass in the air and him fucking into you relentlessly. 

“You’re mine, do you understand that?” He sounded wild above you, kneading at the globes of your ass before smacking down again, causing you to lurch forward with a yelp. 

“A-and you’re a fucking asshole--ah, fuck!” It was hard to bite back when he was abusing your hole like this. Rin grabbed a fistful of your hair and brought your head up, leaning down over your body slowing down just enough to kiss you again. He liked when you fought him back, Haitani Rindou was never into submissive women and you were exactly his type. Even with his thick cock pumping into your sloppy pussy, you had enough energy to keep up with his dominating kiss. Spit dribbled from your mouths, messy--just how you liked it. A weak hand came up to grip at his jaw, nails biting at his skin as you continued to make out with him, pussy sucking him in deeper. He could feel you tightening around him, hips stuttering for a moment before keeping pace once more. 

“Asshole? Baby if I were an asshole I wouldn’t even let you cum. And this is, what, number three?” He laughed in your face, letting you go completely before straightening himself, hand wrapping around your body to rub at the now swollen and abused bundle of nerves. You practically screamed, body convulsing as he threw you into another orgasm. Rin groaned, quickening his pace regardless of how you tried to create space, feeling overstimulated. “Gonna cum in you, baby--gotta mark you inside out. You’re mine.” He threw his head back, releasing his sticky cum inside you, load so big it seeped out the sides of his dick no matter how plugged up he had you. 

The air felt less tense than it had in the beginning, only panting filled the air for a minute before you spoke. Your voice was small. “..I don’t like when we fight like that, Rindou.” You whispered into the bed, shivering when you felt him place small, innocent kisses on your back and shoulders.

“I know I’m a jealous prick, baby...I’m sorry. I can’t lose you, I don’t know what I’d do without you.” It wasn’t often Rin laid his emotions like this, so raw and vulnerable. You pushed off and managed to turn around under him, cradling his head to your chest and kissing the crown of his head. “I’m not going anywhere, Rin. You have to trust me. Ran’s right by calling you a moron if you think I’m leaving for some dick like that anyways.”

“You talk to my brother?”

“Rindou!”

#rindou haitani x reader #tokyo revengers rindou #rindou haitani #haitani rindou #rindou x reader #rindou smut #tokyorev #smut #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #milk kinktober #milk writes

[covetyou]

chaste

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist ⋆ series masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn!reader rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: chastity pollen (the opposite of sex pollen - our man can't fuck), mention of past drug use, masturbation, not phone sex but phone sex adjacent, brief mention of Dieter pissing (twice), cock and ball pain (not cock and ball torture), a brief thing with a glove that isn't sexy at all for anyone involved but it's there, the vaguest of dub-con for the ending (Dee sends you pictures of his dick that you didn't ask for/technically said no to but jerk off to anyway) word count: 2.6k summary: Off the back of a two week retreat to the middle of fuck knows where Dieter Bravo doesn't seem quite himself. You soon figure out why.

A/N: @sp00kymulderr reblogged this post and said someone needed to write a Dieter Chastity Pollen fic, so I did it.

Reader is entirely gender neutral, no mention of any hair, size, shape, genitals, holes, tits, nothin'.

Sorry to Joel and Tim for neglecting you, you were meant to be done this week but I hate your existence currently and Dieter brings me comfort.

follow @covetedfics and turn notifications on for updates on future fics

"Deiter, breakfast!"

Anyone would be fooled in thinking you were calling for a dog. No, Dieter was very much human. Most of the time.

You dump the takeout bag on the kitchen island and look around. He'd been back one day and the place was already more of a mess than when you left it yesterday. His robe was hung over the stair rail and an errant croc almost tripped you as you walked in. It was safe to say that Dieter Bravo was definitely home.

"Dieter!" You shout again, expecting to hear his feet stomping upstairs any moment.

Instead, a feeble croak comes from the other side of the couch. "I'm here."

Craning your neck, you look over the sofa to see Dieter laying there, arm flung over his face and totally, utterly nude.

"Jesus f-, Dee. Put some fucking clothes on."

"No point."

"You have an interview in an hour Dee, at least put a fucking shirt on. I brought you breakfast."

"What's the point in anything?"

You stop in your tracks. It's not that you weren't used to encountering an apathetic Dieter Bravo. It was pretty common actually, usually at the slightest inconvenience. But having just come back from a two week vacation to some pot head retreat, you assumed he'd be bouncing off the walls and easy to get on with. Easier, anyway. But, Dieter was miserable. Errant KitKat wrappers were on the floor around him and he was laying spread eagle, completely naked, on his couch.

You knew to tread carefully when he was like this, so putting the takeout bag back down as quietly as you can, you move to sit gingerly on the arm of the couch.

"What happened, Dee?" you say softly, moving a KitKat wrapper from near his face.

Dieter flings an arm out to the side and sighs dramatically. His face is still covered, but you can see he's pouting from over his arm.

"My life is ruined, that's what happened."

You'd lost count of the amount of times his life had been ruined by something or other, usually someone or something else that had fucked up or not gone to plan. Dieter Bravo never ruined his own life, of course. So, grateful that he can't see you, you pinch your nose and roll your eyes. At this rate, you were going to have to cancel on Variety. Again.

"Dieter, I know it feels that way, but I'm sure it's not that bad. We can fig- "

"It is that bad," he cuts in with a huff, suddenly hauling himself upright on the couch. "Just look."

You follow his dramatic gesture downward to where his cock hangs limply between his legs.

"That's your cock, Dee. It's always been there."

You'd seen it before. Many times in fact. Probably more often than most PAs had seen their employers genitals, to be honest. Seeing Dieter Bravo naked was one of those things that just happened. In the grand scheme of things, it was one of the most normal ways a person could ever see him. As it was, you'd seen him in far more compromising situations than sat on his couch with his dick out.

Looking at you with a strange kind of urgency in his eyes, he pleads with you. "But look at it."

Standing, you round the couch and look down at him with your hands on your hips.

It looks normal. You'd seen it enough to know that his foreskin wrinkled just like that, his balls sat soft just as they were, and his pubic hair was groomed just as it always was.

Except... it didn't move. Not a twitch or a flicker along the entire soft length. He was more flaccid than he had probably ever been and, for whatever reason, he was staying that way. You frown, letting your brows meet in the middle.

"See."

"What..." you trail off, trying to work out what the fuck was going on. You had seen him soft before, but usually within a few minutes of you talking, typically with him staring at your mouth as it moved, likely imagining you licking his balls or sucking his cock, he would begin to harden. In fact, simply stare at his dick for a few seconds and something was bound to happen. Dieter Bravo was so painfully easy to turn on it was almost endearing. And yet, he was still soft.

He slumps back, pushing the heels of his hands into his eyes until he sees stars.

"It's been like this all week. I can't do anything with it."

"What do you mean you can't do anything?" you say in confusion. For all the things Dieter had tried to do with his cock over the years, he, and by proxy, you, had learnt of the many many things his cock could not do. Saying it couldn't do anything didn't really reveal much and was likely a typical Dieter exaggeration.

"Anything! I can't touch it, I can't fuck with it, I can't even make myself hard. It's just there. Useless."

"Your cock is not useless, Dee, I promis-"

"I have to piss sitting down."

"Oh."

A few simple words and the gravity of the situation suddenly hits you. Dieter was a man who took great joy in pissing. Sometimes you thought a little too much joy, but you weren't going to judge. There were weirder things he could be into. But one of those joys came in the form of being able to unzip his pants and piss just about anywhere he pleased. There were other things he liked doing with his cock too, but if he couldn't even stand to pee, you knew whatever was going on was a big deal.

You meet his eyes again, seeing how slumped and dejected he looks, and you don't know what to say. Usually you could find a solution for anything, but Dieter Bravo is the last person you expected to have cock troubles. Luckily for you, he can't keep his mouth shut for long, and after another big sigh, blinking back tears that you swear just might fall from his eyes, words spew out of his mouth in a stream of consciousness.

"I went on that fucking retreat, and they had this new strain, and I tried it, and ever since I've just been," he waves his hands desperately in the air, "like this."

"Wait -"

"And now what am I gonna do? What if I can never come again? Who the fuck even am I if I can't come again?"

"Dieter."

"I can feel it too. It's like my blood feels horny but my cock is the opposite of horny and I can't do anything about it -"

"Dee, slow down - "

"Even if I touch it it's like I'm getting fuckin' electrocuted. It's like ZAP straight to my cock and balls, through my fingers, down my arm. My cock is going to kill me."

He finally stops, taking a deep breath as he flops back again with a desperate whine. His cock flops with him, falling sideways to rest on his leg, and he looks at it with a dramatic sob. He couldn't even move it off of himself if he wanted to.

The couch dips when you sit next to him, kicking yet another KitKat wrapper away. Despite everything, his dick still looks normal. By rights, after the things he'd stuck it in, it had no right to look normal, almost pretty, but it did. Whatever had happened at that retreat, whatever god awful thing he smoked, he was lucky this was all he got. A week of forced celibacy was nothing. For most people, anyway.

Looking at you out of the side of his eyes you can see a glimmer of a question flick across his face. You already know what he's going to ask. "Dieter, no."

"Can you try touching it?"

"No."

"Please! Not even in a sexy way this time, just... just a little bit?" he looks at you with those stupid puppy dog eyes that would have just about anyone else giving in to him. You knew better, and he usually knew better than to use them on you. They were never going to work on you.

So, you don't know what possesses you when you nod, mumbling something about grabbing some gloves from the first aid box in the kitchen. When you return, Dieter is sat with his knees wide, looking at you expectantly. Snapping a glove around your wrist you crouch in front of him and move to reach out when he stops you.

"Just a little touch," he says with a waver in his voice. You can't imagine it. The poor man had probably gone back to his room with the weed haze still licking at his bones, peeling his clothes from his body before falling into bed. He would have reached down to give his little Dee a tug goodnight, only to be met with the shock of his life. You'd be terrified too if you were him.

"I'll go slow," you say, trying to reassure him as much as you could. In a few months time you'd laugh about this, if it all blew over quickly, but right now it was impossible to get the fearful look in his eyes out of your head.

Reaching out again, you get an inch from his cock. It still hasn't twitched or moved at all, even with the threat of your impending touch. You look up at Dieter, giving him a nod. "You ready?"

Taking a deep breath, he nods back at you.

As the tip of your gloved finger barely grazes the skin of his flaccid dick, his hips buck up and he throws himself back away from you.

"A-ah! Shitting fuck! Ouch."

You still, eyes wide and panicked. You didn't feel anything but Dieter very obviously did. He's curling in on himself, trying not to writhe with the pain of the sharp zap straight to his cock directly where you touched him.

"Did you feel that?" he says, from the ball he's curled himself into. You shake your head, biting your lips in concern. "Are you kidding me?! You touch me and I'm the one who gets zapped? How is any of this fair."

"I'm not the one who smoked some mystery weed, Dieter."

"I'm going to die."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am. My cock is going to fall off because I can't touch it, and I'm going to die cockless and alone."

"No. No, look, it'll be okay. We'll give it another week, and if things aren't back to normal we'll call a doctor, get it seen to," you pat him gently on the knee and watch as he feebly nods in agreement. "Alright. Let's get you dressed, okay? We'll put your dick away for now -"

"May as well put it away forever, never gonna need it again..."

"- for now, and get you ready for your interview."

Nodding with watery eyes, Dieter lets you bundle his robe around him and take him upstairs. He complains the entire time you're fixing his hair that his dick feels wrong in his boxers, whines when you finally sit him down in front of the camera and join the call. But, two minutes in and some particularly good questions later, the fake smile he'd plastered on turns real and his cock sits soft and forgotten between his legs. At least, for a little while.

It was going to be a long week.

Four days later, at 4:23am, you're awoken by the harsh ringing of your phone. Your eyes can't focus, but at this time it could only be one person.

You fumble for a second before swiping to accept the call, slapping the phone to the side of your face with an arm that doesn't seem to have woken up properly yet.

"I'm hard! My dick is hard," are the first words that come tumbling out of his mouth. Dieter sounds positively ecstatic, if a little breathless.

Stifling a yawn and rubbing your eyes you smile in relief at his words. "That's great, Dee."

"I woke up for a piss, and stood there, stood there, pissing. Didn't even realize at first - shit that's good - had to go back and touch it in the mirror to see. No zap!"

"No zap!" you try to say enthusiastically through another yawn, barely registering the wet rhythmic noise coming through the phone.

"I'm so happy I want to kiss it. I want to kiss my dick!"

"Please don't try to kiss it, Dee, your back isn't doing great as it is." You hear him sigh and mumble a soft God I've missed you so much and it confuses you for a moment until you realize he's not talking about you.

"Do you know how good this feels? I've never felt something this good in my life, I swear it. So - fuck - so good."

You are fully awake now, staring wide eyed at your bedroom ceiling. The wet noises are clear as day. "Are you... are you jerking off?"

"Well, yeah. Haven't stopped. Do you know how quick I got hard? I'm like a fucking rock, here, let me send you a picture." Putting you on speaker, you hear the phone clatter as Dieter fumbles with it.

"Dee, no, no look, it's okay. I don't need a picture. You enjoy yourself. I'll cancel your meetings for the day so you can have some alone time."

Dieter groans, mumbling softly to you down the speaker. "You're an angel."

"I'm your PA. It's my job. Goodnight, Dee," and you slump back asleep as soon as you hang up.

At 7am your alarm sounds, and you startle awake, fairly certain you'd had a dream about Dieter's cock. Scanning through your notifications on your way to the bathroom, you spot a series of messages from the man himself.

A slew of excitable texts, a few missed calls and, finally, pictures. You hadn't dreamed it at all and it seemed that Dieter Bravo's cock was finally hard, and you had all the proof of that right in front of you. First his dick clutched firmly in his hand, glistening red tip poking from between the fingers as he hunches over to get his smiling face in the frame to give you a thumbs up. He sent you a profile view picture too, hands free, and you can see just how hard he is by how stiffly his length juts out from between his hips.

Finally, and maybe most importantly, a short video. His hand moves quickly up and down his cock, stiff and engorged in his fist, voice coming through the speaker in loud pained groans. If you didn't know better, if you hadn't witnessed first hand what Dieter Bravo sounded like with his cock hurting, you'd swear he was in agony. A few seconds later and you watch his balls seem to swell and tighten before his tip twitches to life, spurting again and again and again all over his fist, trickling down his fingers, his balls and onto the sheet below as he comes seemingly endlessly.

"Oh shit, oh shiiit," he groans in the recording.

By the time he finishes, fist slowing to a stop around his length and his slit finally ceasing its erupting, cum coats just about everything in the frame.

And then he laughs. Dieter Bravo, cock in hand at 5am and covered in his own cum, laughs in disbelief as he is finally, blissfully able to come.

You shake your head as the recording cuts off and you climb into the shower, setting your phone out of the way in a nook opposite the flow of water. You hit play again.

And again.

And again.

taglist: @jupiter-soups @wannab-urs @bean-is-reading @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @youandmeand5bucks-blog @bbyanarchist @vickywallace @kamcrazy123 @valkyreally @ashhlsstuff @a-literal-goblin @ariundercovers @iluvurfather @stevie75 @toxicanonymity @thesevi0lentdelights @sp00kymulderr

#dieter bravo #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo smut #the bubble fanfiction #coveted fics

[agusrkive]

SugarDaddy!Reiner | 🗯️🔞

cw: 18+ MDNI! (yall seen the title, dont play dumb)

summary: reiner as your sugar daddy, detailed nsfw routines

— forehead kisses

— butterfly and wet open-mouthed kisses on your neck

— nibbles on your ear

— plays with your hair

✦ asks you how’s your day while you are sat on his lap

✦ always let’s you pick the tie he’s gonna wear before going to work in the morning. it’s basically your job to do his tie and he never fails to get a hard-on every single time you do it.

✦ calls you in the middle of the day just to tell you how much he misses you and the way you feel around his cock while he’s at work.

✦ wraps his arms around you and drowns you with his kisses the moment he gets home.

"Did my little doll miss her daddy?”

loves it when you massage his temples while he grinds you up and down the tent of his bulging boxers to the point that the head of his cock slips out and meets your clothed needy cunt, your soaking panties being the only barrier between you two.

doesn’t cuddle, he prefers you seated on his lap with his cock buried deep inside you while watching your favorite tv shows or him just doing work-at-home paperworks as you try your best not to move around and squirm too much+

"behave unless you don’t plan on cumming tonight.”

★ is a menace in the sheets, but could go soft and slow when you ask him to.

★ his favorite position is you under him, but you both know that he cums faster when you ride him.

★ could go on for hours and hours, but it’s you who needs rest and sometimes passes out from overstimulation and pleasure.

🪞

˗ˏˋmirrors.. did I mention that man loves to watch himself fuck you on his bed in the big ass mirror of his room that he bought just for that reason? he needs to see your face when he’s giving you the best backshots of your life.´ˎ˗

★ missionary so you two can continue arguing about the guy from your class who keeps on lingering around you+

"he doesn’t like me! he just needed some notes and lectures that he missed because of his injuries.”

…

“oh I bet, doll. and the only injury that little shit’s gonna get is my fist in his punchable face.”

“he’s a twink!!”

“Jaëger’s lil brother is not gay.

tell him gone or I will.”

❥ loves to tease you with how needy you are+

"beg for it, doll.”

“tell me how bad you need it.”

"what was that? you want my cock?—where? c’mon use your mouth, slut.”

🎀

takes off your panties with his teeth before diving into your soaking cunt, his big arms caging around your thighs. handprints that will definitely leave marks you love to send him pictures of when he’s away.

★ loves it when you give him head as if his dick is the only left thing in the world and his cum is water in the desert (his words).

★ fucks you senselessly until you gush over and over, bed is soaked and his goal is to make you squirt; which you did three times.

★ rolls his hip into you faster when he sees your legs shaking from pleasure.

🛌

ends the night with you screaming his name and his cum painting your insides white. he fills you up soo good that seeing it leak out of your hole makes your heart ache+

fucks it back into you slowly until he cums again and doesn’t pull out for awhile, you are both crazy with the feeling of him inside you.

🛁

showers with you and you both clean each other, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he dries your hair with a towel.

loves to rail you in his bathroom, your back against the wall as he pummels his cock in and out of your cunt. your legs hanging in the air with his arms hooked under them for support.

🌃

sleeps only with his boxers so he can easily slip his cock inside your wet cunt in the middle of the night.

🌤️

loves to wake you up in the morning with his head locked between your thighs as he eats you out for breakfast.

grabs a handful of your ass before rubbing his half-hard dick between them while you’re making breakfast.

🧺

makes out with you while doing laundry.

bends you over and pulls down your underwear only to have his fingers fuck you instead of his cock. his big fingers alone are godly enough, but you’re desperate for his cock+

“you know how it goes—“

“words, doll. need’a hear’em.”

🥘

loves to rub his hard-on behind you while you do the dishes.

🧸

makes you beg for his cock until you cry when you’re being a brat.

secretly loves it when you’re being naughty by not wearing any underwear, your naked figure being the only thing underneath his sky blue lacoste that is three times bigger than you.

📲

makes you ride his cock while you try to explain the previous lecture to Eren on the phone (that guy doesn’t just get the message)

"aah— umm yes! I sent it to Armin, ca\~l#*?¥—"

“sorry? I didn’t get that last part. Are you okay?”

“Eren! I need to g-go.. bad cramps! and phone’s uu-hh dying aa—“

**line cuts off**

“ohmygod yes! fuck me daddy!!”

#reiner #reiner braun #reiner x reader #reiner braun x reader #reiner x fem!reader #reiner braun x fem!reader #reiner x you #reiner braun x you #aot reiner #snk reiner #attack on titan reiner #reiner smut #attack on titan #aot smut #modern au #non canon #attack on titan smut #sugardaddy!reiner #eren jaeger #eren yaegar #eren is a little shit #man bun!eren #sugardaddy #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #literature #writers on tumblr #romance #fluff