tuttifuckinfruttifriday

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

may i ask stalker!simon taking advantage of his sweetheart with a gun? 👀

Stalker!Simon, hmmmmm :)

Surprise Visit

Pairing: Stalker!Ghost x reader

Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, stalking, gun, obsession, rough oral sex, blowjob, face fucking, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1k

You’ve walked this path multiple times, every night and every morning, over and over again. You knew this path like the palm of your hand, having taken it all your life. Granted, you had changed street from time to time for a change of normalcy, but it was always the same block or side of the city you took to get to and fro work and home. You were comfortable with your little life, slightly bored by how inactive you were, but you wouldn’t trade it for any kind of trouble.

So it was a surprise - was it truly? You’d grown so comfortable that you stopped keeping your guard up - when you were toughly pushed into your apartment the moment your locked clicked open. You tumbled in, eyes widened and ready to scream out for help, when the man covered your mouth, pressing his weight on yours. You shook, fearfully breathing through your nose as the door closed behind you, your only escape blocked by a heavy mass over you, hand clamped around your cheeks and holding you down. 

You hear him shush you, a deep, baritone voice that cooed at your teary eyes, his small praises at your frightful expression. His words dripped with adoration, a sickly and dark affection that made your skin crawl. You should have looked before opening your door. You should have been more caution in a world where both men and women prowled to attack one another, those disgusting and desperate ones that would do anything to get a taste. If he wanted money, you’d give it all to him, you valued your life more than—

“Stay quiet for me, love, ” he rasped, his hot breath hitting your ear, feeling your side before he slipped a hand under his jacket, “Behave, yeah?”

He pulled a gun, the dreadful click of the safety acting as a warning to you, a deterrent to stop you from acting out —from misbehaving. He cocked his gun rather than repeating his words and you nodded hastily, or as best as you could with his bruising grip on your face. He turned you around and peered down at you from his crooked nose, his dark chocolate eyes seemed almost black, a devouring pit that drew your eyes to his. Gun pointed at your head, he motioned you to your knees, kneeling between his spread legs, running his other hand through your mess of locks. 

“Good girl, ” he groaned, pulling you to face his growing bulge, his cock tenting the seams of his pants. He ground against your lips, rutting your face with low huffs and pants, hissing when your nose nudged it, “Pull my cock out.”

You swallowed down your hesitance when you caught the red gleam in his eyes, shaky hands palming his jeans for the zipper, pulling his pants down his hips and watched the wet patch growing on his grey briefs. He grunted at your slow pace, impatiently pressing the muzzle to your temple and only loosening his hold on your hair when he cock bounced out, the heaviness of it making his length hang between his thighs. 

“Suck.”

Having no choice, you licked your dried lips to ease your anxiety, wrapping them around his leaky tip and running your tongue over his slit, tasting the salty tang of his pre. Your stomach rolled in disgust, the threat of food and stomach acid running up your throat screaming louder in your mind. Willing yourself to finish this quickly, hoping he’d leave after you gave… gave him a blowjob, you sunk further down his length. Staring up at his masked face, locked between his legs with his skull-painted mask and dangerous eyes.

He was thick and veiny, the burn of it’s throb churning your stomach as you took in more and more until you almost choked. He huffed at your inability to take more than half of him, narrowing his eyes at the tears running down your cheeks when he abruptly thrust down your throat, head thrown back at your choke, throat swallowing around his twitching head. 

“Fuck, ” a low moan slipped from his tongue, his hips moving back and forth, taking in your desperate cries and gagging while he took from you, “Always knew you had a hot mouth. Bloody tight.”

You could hardly breathe with the rough drive of his hips, ramming his cock so deeply that you could taste him on the back of your throat and in your guts. You could fight and struggle, but wouldn’t be able to stop him, to escape his treatment or run away when he had a hard grip on your head, a gun in his hand and blocked the door. All you could do was cry and take it, appease him in hopes that he wouldn’t kill you if he was satisfied.

And it seemed he was, taking such a liking to your tear-streaked face, swollen lips wrapped around the girth of his cock and nose buried in his messy bush while he took and took, bartering your throat until it’d bruised. He came down your throats with a few more thrusts, staring you down his nose while he slipped as deep as he could. You choked on his heady cum, roped spurting from the tip and filled your stomach with an uncomfortable amount, it was hot and bitter, and there were so, so much that it spilled from your lips, dripping down your chin and staining jeans. 

You gasped when he pulled out, somewhat happy that you had swallowed his cum. You cough and sputtered, folded at his feet as you sobbed, babbling pleas to be let off now that you’d fulfilled his sick fantasy. He only crouched down, running his hands through your hair like he wanted to comfort you, tenderly petting you for the favour you did.

“You did good, love, ” he praised, a chuckle rumbling off his shoulder, proud and gleeful. He even put his gun away, “This stays between us, understood? You can keep our little secret, yeah, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes, ” you rasped, signing your soul away to the devil in a balaclava.

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

For fuck's sake, she's so childish 🙄🙄

Winter's King 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: I can't explain why but damn I'm so tiredddd.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

As you approach the capital, you can’t help but poke your head up to admire the domes of the great castle and the high towers. The gates stand open as the party advances, in wait of their new liege and lord. You shield your eyes against the sun as you gaze at the silhouette of the mighty architecture. 

“May as well get a good gander,” Bryce says, “doubt the kitchens are any more glorious than the ones you know.” 

“Mm,” you retract your gaze and sigh, “suppose. But they will still be new to me.” 

“Not all that is new is wondrous,” he girds. “For as much as I’ve seen in this world, it is the familiar that keeps me sane.” 

You nod and let the cart rock you. Ahead of you, the horses tread over rocks and dirt, wagons bounce and creak, and some servants walk afoot to ease the cramps in their legs. You lean lazily on a chest and fold your hands in your lap. It will at least be nice to stay beneath a proper roof again. 

The streets of the city are crowded with faces. They do not holler for you but you can hear the raucous uproar ahead as the king and queen ride between the citizens. There are even more black and grey soldiers stationed along the roads, awaiting your arrival. 

As you wind up to the royal castle, the noise grows tantamount. At the walls of the grand structure, clusters of people threaten to crush the party between their writhing bodies. It takes some time after the king’s entrance for the luggage to make way into the courtyard. 

The carts depart around the back of the castle as the horses make way for the stables. You climb out as Bryce lurks around, dismounting Daisy with a grunt as he rubs his lower back. You glance over at him as the other servants quickly fall into work. 

“Maid,” he calls to you before you can follow suit, “no doubt the queen will need to wash away the road before she faces the hordes.” 

He beckons you forth with his gauntlet and you diligently near him. He hands off Daisy to a castle servant and carries on inside. You scurry beside him as he stops and gauges his surroundings. He is not versed with the corridors but he presses on unimpeded. 

You turn back a few times before you reach the great hall. It is crowded and chaotic. The soldier strides through without pause. You nearly grab onto him just to keep from being lost in the stirring of soldiers and servants, and the tittering lords and ladies in their colourful garb. 

Up the stairs and a few questions grunted to his comrades, Bryce takes you down to a set of chambers with yet another soldier before it. You’re let inside without question. You find Queen Jazlene before a steaming basin as another servant cleans her face. 

The queen scrunches up her nose and swats the lady servant, the maid still in the former king’s colours; burnt autumn orange and goldenrod yellow. 

“Watch my eyes, you moron,” Jazlene chides and jabs her nail into the maid’s ribs. 

“My lady, I didn’t mean--” 

“I am a queen, not a lady,” Jazlene hisses, “be gone before I have your teeth knocked out of that stupid mouth of yours.” 

The other maid wrings the cloth and steps back on her heel, chewing on an apology before she spins to flee. As she nears the door, she notices you and gives a panicked look. You reach to take the cloth from her before you go to the queen. 

“Your highness,” you greet her and dip the cloth back in the steaming water. “Would you like me to put ribbons in your hair?” 

“Mm, I suppose,” she tilts her face up and closes her eyes, “once the dirt is gone. By gods, I hate traveling.” 

You gently wipe along her hairline and trace the outline of her face. You delicately but intently clean away the errant dust and streaks. You drape the cloth over the brim of the basin and turn to the table. 

“And would you like your lips painted?” You intone. “Your highness, I do think your natural tones are beautiful.” 

As you peek back at her, her eyes open and she stares at you. Her nostrils compress as she inhales. She puts her head straight and looks at her reflection. 

“Do you think so?” She touches her cheeks. 

“Yes, I do, if you line your eyes, they might appear bigger but they are so lovely and dark already,” you compliment. 

She hums and tilts her head, turning her attention back on you, “it’s you.” 

You lower your head, “your highness?” 

“You’re always flitting around like some bird,” she sniffs, “suppose you are not so... agitating as the other. Yes, ribbons and some kohl. Then I will have one of the former queen’s gowns. They have delivered her wardrobe to me.” 

“Yes, your highness,” you say and go to work. 

You settle into your usual lull. The queen sips from her goblet as you twine ribbons with her curls, a halo around the crown of her head as coiling strands hang down to her back. She looks even more immaculate than you’ve seen her before. 

She calls for a dress and you bring her several options from those strewn across the large bed. She chooses the lavender and you help her into the light silk. You relace it to account for her lither figure, the former queen having some extra years in her hips. 

When she is dressed, she twirls before the mirror. She stops and sets her chin straight and glares at herself. She arches a brow coyly. 

“I cannot wait to see Lady Florence,” she scoffs, “she will choke when she realises I am her queen.” 

You linger by the wall, blending into the tapestry as she sighs and eyes the glass affectionately. She primps herself and spins again. 

“Well then, I must be overdue,” she goes to the door, “I must go to the king and show him I can be his queen.” 

You open the door for her and follow her out. The soldiers outside glance at her but do not move or speak. Bryce comes up beside you as you trail after Jazlene. She struts to the end of the corridor and is stopped by another guard at another door. 

“Do not think to stop me,” she spits, “I am the queen,” she flicks her fingers in his direction, “don’t be absurd.” 

The man lets her through as she tugs on the latch and his dull eyes stare past her. She hardly has the effect she thinks. People do not admire her so much as they tolerate her. 

She sweeps into the chamber as you wait outside. Bryce lets out a gritty breath and taps his fingers on his sword pommel. He chews more of the sweet leaves he loves so much. Jazlene emerges with a doe-like look. 

“Where is the king?” She exclaims. 

“He has gone to address the people,” the guard picks at his teeth. “He tired of waiting--” 

“Do not tell me about the king,” Jazlene snaps on the soldier, “ugh, let us find my husband. How can he think to face my people without me at his side?” 

She storms onward and you can only follow. She will no doubt need wine sooner than later, though you wish she might take more water or milk instead. Bryce keeps your pace slowed as he makes little haste. 

As she descends the steps, you can hear the king’s voice. The crowd is hushed, almost hypnotised as he speaks from atop a chair. Somehow, he is both overwhelming and unassuming. Jazlene shows as she sees him. The crowd does not move out of her way as they are rapt in his words. 

“...do not come as conquerer, but as liberator,” he declares, “I am not here to suppress but to unite. Our kingdoms, forged together as one, can attain glory. Peace. Joy. Our people needn’t suffer the droughts or frost rot without relief. By coming together, we will join summer and winter in harmony,” the king holds his sword, the tip on the armrest of the wooden chair, “to you lords who stayed loyal to Waleran, I do not seek retribution. You only did your duty and served the king you put an oath to. You had no part in his violations upon myself. I am aware you could not rein in your greedy master. You will keep what is yours, as by rights, but you will swear fealty to the new crown.” 

King Geralt looks around the hall, “I have spoken to the farmers and the peasants, I have seen the beauty of your lands. I wish not to ravage it but to build it. You will not have only from me writs and declarations, you will have fields sown, you will have harvests reaped, you will have coin in flow, and you will have full bellies.” 

He raises his great sword over his head. The large weapon could be held only by two-hands in anothers grasp but he lifts it effortlessly. 

“I saw how your king tucked tail when he saw me on the field. After you good lords followed him to battle and sacrificed your men and your blood. He could not stand and fight, but many of you did, many of you not here today. I will not let their souls be spent in vain,” he pauses and his golden eyes rove around the room. He points his sword suddenly towards you but not quite, at Jazlene, “I have taken a summer wife.” He curls his fingers to gesture her to him. People swivel to see her and clear the path to the king, “a winter’s king must have a summer’s queen, if our kingdoms our to rise anew.” 

Jazlene sways before she gets her footing. She moves forward, chin high as she lets a grin break out over her face. She looks this way and that, gloating as she goes to her husband. He steps down as she approaches and he takes her hand. He helps her up on the chair herself and she seems almost confused by the act. 

“Queen Jazlene of Debray,” King Geralt proclaims, “she will return with me to the Hinterlands to see that order is kept across our realm and perhaps, the next time I look upon you all, I will have an heir to present to you. A young prince to lead us into the sun ahead.” 

He raises Jazlene’s hand as she fawns. The crowd breaks out in racket, voices swelling to the rooves as you’re jostled against Bryce. The lords and ladies, servants and soldiers, throw up fists and hoot and holler. 

The king brings his sword up again, silence falling at the gleam of its silver blade, “but first, a feast!” 

The fervour is even louder as the hall explodes in glee. You hear it ripple out the doors into the crowd without and like an ocean, the tides carry through the courtyard and front gates, streaming into the city. Peace has come and old grudges cannot take the shine from the gift of a king’s mercy. 

⚔️

“Your highness, we heard of what happened on Stag’s River,” an earl, you think he said his name was Kelvan, “it was a brave stand. Admirable, even standing upon the other ridge.” 

“You were there?” King Geralt muses, “mm, how fortunate our paths did not cross.” 

“Indeed, your highness,” the earl agrees, “I must admit, I dreaded it.” 

“But here we are, alive, together, as allies. It is all I ever wanted.” 

“And we knew it. We knew it, my liege, for when you let our men march back at all, we saw your grace,” Kelvan smiles. 

“Yes, but I have only ever admired your lands, never had I wanted to ruin them,” the king assures as he looks over at his wife. 

“He is a brave and good king,” Queen Jazlene praises as she puts her hand over the king’s. 

Lord Kelvan’s lips ripple, “mm, yes, I have not seen your father yet. If I shan’t happen upon the Duke, you will send my regards.” 

There’s an edge that makes you uneasy. You see how Jazlene bobs her head, “so I shall.” 

She doesn’t seem to notice the tick of resent in the earl’s cheek. How odd it is that they are so fond of the invader and yet their own kith and kin, they cannot help but revile. You’ve heard the whispers swirling already. It was not King Geralt who betrayed these people but this snakish woman and her blood. 

“Wine, girl, now,” Jazlene snaps as the early departs back to his seat. 

You stand against the wall, just behind the bench she shares with the king. You come forward with the jug reserved only for her, nearing between the shoulders of the royal couple. Before you can put the spout to brim, King Geralt’s hand catches the swollen belly of the ewer. 

“Perhaps you might have some more lamb before you indulge further, wife,” he girds. 

“It is a feast,” she slurs, “I am only celebrating. With you,” she touches his sleeve, “my king.” 

“I see that,” his voice is low but firm, “yet you are a queen and your subjects are watching.” 

“I can stomach my wine,” she sneers. 

He huffs and wraps his hand around the bottom of the handle, just below your grip. He wiggles it away from you and sets it on the other side of his plate. Jazlene lets out a childish gasp. 

“It is just wine,” she snivels. 

King Geralt runs his fingers along his collar, “we are having a good night,” he says as he peers out on the crowd, “please, let us not make a scene.” 

“I am not making a scene. I am the queen and I want more wine,” she insists. 

He faces forward completely. You stay as you are, trapped in their indecision. He blocks the jug with his elbow and she claps her hands on her lap and kicks her feet.  

“Perhaps you should have some of that wine,” she mutters, “it might make you kinder.” 

The king doesn’t reply and instead greets another lord; one who introduces himself as the Count of Bress. As they speak, Jazlene leans back on the bench and tugs your skirt. You look down at her. 

“Find more wine,” she growls, “and don’t be obvious about it.” 

“Your highness, but the king--” 

“I am your master, not him,” she snarls and nudges you harshly, “be away before I lose my patience.” 

You dip your head and notice how the king’s head turns towards his wife. You don’t look back as you critter off quickly into the shadows. You might be better to take your time and tell her you could not abscond any more wine. If you wait long enough, it might even slip her mind, as so often her desires fade into the next. 

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

ENDGAME STEVE: Clean-shaven + long hair.

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

Cherry 🍒

S7 Negan x Virgin Female Reader

Summary: You sneak into Negan’s bed in the middle of the night and seduce him into ‘popping your cherry.’

Warnings: 18+, smut, age-gap (reader is 18, Negan is mid 40's), unprotected sex, Negan taking your virginity & being sweet with you, mentions of family death, bleeding during sex, oral (both receiving), sitting on Negan’s face, breeding

Note: this is pure filth. If you’re uncomfortable with extreme age-gaps, please don’t read.

You shivered as your bare feet quietly shuffled down the cold hallway, stopping right outside the leader's bedroom door. The sounds of Negan's light snoring filtered through the cracks as you softly pushed the door open, pleased to find it unlocked. You tiptoed your way over to the empty side of his bed before sliding underneath his soft white sheets and inhaling the unique scent of him - leather and fresh linen.

You've always felt comfortable with him. Negan welcomed you to the sanctuary with open arms about a year ago when you were seventeen, after your father passed away. His men found you walking along the road one day and brought you back to Negan, who immediately took you under his wing and made you feel safe for the first time since your father died.

You're not like his wives. More like the daughter he never had and he's made that boundary crystal clear on more than one occasion. You've made several subtle advances towards Negan in the past.. All of which he has politely rejected by changing the subject or blatantly ignoring you.

Still, this doesn't stop you from quietly moaning his name when you touch yourself at night.

"Negan.." You whispered cautiously as you snuggled into the sheets. This wasn't the first time you crawled into his bed at night, feeding him lies about nightmares you never even had. However, this time.. you were determined to get what you wanted.

During your recent previous attempts, you'd remain on your side of the bed and Negan wouldn't even know you were there usually until the next morning - lecturing you when you woke up about how sneaking into his bed is inappropriate. You hated when he used that word. Like a strict school teacher.

A few moments of silence passed until you boldly shuffled closer to him, wrapping your hand around his arm and snuggling your face into his bicep. You breathed in the intoxicating aroma of his soft skin as your legs delicately pressed into his underneath the blanket.

"The hell are you doin' y/n?" He asked, his sleepy voice deeper and raspier than usual and it made your heart flutter.

"Can't sleep."

"I think we both know you're lyin', doll. You know you can't stay in here. We've had this discussion. It's ina-"

"Yeah yeah I know. Inappropriate, geez." You interrupted him, rolling your eyes in the dark.

"Exactly, so why are you in my bed?"

"My.. dreams. They keep waking me up."

"Nightmares again?" He asked, using a softer tone this time.

"No.. no nightmares this time. Just.. dreams."

Negan shifted uncomfortably next to you, scooting up a little in the bed and wrapping his arm around you in the process. "What kinda dreams, doll?"

You snuggled into the nook of his armpit, getting practically drunk off his manly smell as your hand carelessly glided over his shirtless, hairy torso until settling on his lower abdomen.

Without missing a beat, Negan placed his hand over yours, moving it higher on his torso. "Y/n.." He said like a warning, sternness dripping from his tone.

You ignored him, refocusing your attention back to his previous question. "I dunno.. they're just.. like.. sexual dreams, and then I wake up and I'm all frustrated because I don't know what I'm doing-"

"Stop." He sighed with frustration, running a hand down his face. "Fucking christ, y/n. You cannot say shit like that in front of me."

"Why not? It's not like you're my daddy or anything." You teased him, sliding your hand to his lower stomach once again. You almost whimpered when your fingertips brushed over the soft curls peaking out of the waistband of his boxers and your stomach fluttered when he didn't stop you this time.

He let out a long sigh, glancing down to your hand that teased the sensitive skin under his waistband. "Baby...fuck. We can't." He said almost painfully.

"Okay.. I get it." You said defeatedly, removing your hand and shifting to turn over before he stopped you, pulling you back in.

He sighed, like he was about to regret asking you this. "What happens.. in your dreams?"

With the moonlight beaming through the window, you managed to catch a glimpse of the lust that flickered in his gaze before his hazel eyes dropped to your lips.

"You treat me different.. like.. one of your wives."

"Yeah? And how's that, baby?" He asked curiously as his lips hovered next to yours.

"You.. kiss them." You stated hesitantly, hoping it was dark enough in the room that he couldn't see your cheeks burning red.

"Oh? Are you jealous, doll?"

"...a little." You admitted, making him chuckle.

He tilted your chin up, lightly gripping your jawline as his eyes dropped to your lips. He stared at them as if he was contemplating if he should give you what you want.

"One kiss, y/n." He said, closing the gap between you and pressing his soft lips to yours. You whimpered into his mouth, earning a slight smirk from him as he pushed his talented tongue past your lips. You couldn't believe you were finally tasting him and you savored every second of it.

He kissed you until your lips were sore, tangling his fingers through your hair and groaning every now and then, making your panties soaked.

You slid your leg over his until his muscular thigh was pressed right up against your aching center and you couldn't help but grind against it, desperate for some friction.

"Y/n." He warned, knowing what you were doing beneath the covers.

"Please, Negan."

His solid erection pressed into your stomach each time you moved your body against his and you imagined the way it would feel inside of you.

“Please what?” He said in between kisses, allowing you to use his thigh to get yourself off.

“Please let me come."

"I'm not touching you, y/n. But I can't stop you from coming."

And that was all the permission you needed to grind against him harder and bring yourself to an orgasm just from humping his thigh.

You buried your face against his neck and rode out your high, whining and whimpering as you soaked through your panties. "Oh my god, oh my god, Negannnn."

"Satisfied now, doll?" He chuckled.

"No.. I need this." You said, pressing your palm against the hard bulge in his boxers. "Please."

"You don't know what you're asking for, sweetheart."

"I do, Negan. I know exactly what I want.. And I've wanted you for so long." You kissed his neck as you rubbed his cock through the material. "I see the way you look at me. I know you want me too."

He sighed, accepting that you were right. "Maybe. But we can't always get what we want, doll."

You grinned, taking that as a challenge as you slid lower beneath the blanket, kissing his chest. "Why not?"

"Baby.."

"If you tell me to stop, I'll stop." You said, wanting to earn his consent before climbing over his legs and settling in between them. He sighed again, turning all the way over on his back to allow you better access.

You licked a line from the bottom of the trail of hair that led up to his belly button, earning a moan from him as he slightly lifted his hips in response. "Baby, you don't have to-"

"You said you wouldn't touch me, but you didn't say I couldn't touch you." You explained, pulling his boxers down slowly. You watched closely as his cock sprung free, and your mouth practically watered at the sight of it. You wondered how you'd fit it in your mouth, much less your pussy.

"It's so.. big.." You said, wrapping your hand around it. Your mouth fell slightly open at the velvety feeling of it as you stroked it up and down in your palm.

Negan was propped up on his elbows as he watched you through heavy, lust-filled eyelids. For once, he was speechless, waiting for your next move.

You lowered your head, taking the tip of him into your mouth and wrapping your lips around it softly. You sucked on just the tip as you looked up at him through your brows and watched his head fall back while the prominent vein in his neck bulged against his skin. Lowering yourself deeper, he let out a long groan when he felt himself in the back of your throat.

"Fuuuuuck, baby. Feels so fuckin' good."

You bobbed your head up and down on him until your jaw ached, wanting to make him proud. Finally, he pulled your head off of his length, and you watched as the precum leaked from his red, swollen tip. His breaths were heavy as he looked down at you. "Fuck, that's enough. You're gonna make me come, sweetheart.

"I want to taste you, Negan.. please?" You begged, looking up at him innocently.

"Yeah? You want me to come in your mouth?"

You nodded as wrapped your lips around his thick length again, tasting the bead of salty precum. You moaned at the new taste, sucking firmly over and over until you felt more of his warm liquid spurt out, coating the back of your throat. You moaned around him again, not taking your mouth off of his cock until you swallowed every drop.

Sweat ran down the side of his face and his chest rose and fell heavily as he watched you. "Goddamn. What happened to my sweet, innocent girl, huh? When did you learn to suck cock like that?"

"Just now. That was my first time." You shrugged, shuffling up his body until your legs straddled his waist and you pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it on the floor and exposing your perky, bare breasts to him.

You pinched your own nipples teasingly as you bit you lip and stared down at him.

"Fuck, you are so beautiful.” He said, watching you play with your nipples.

"You don't wanna touch?" You pouted, sticking out your bottom lip.

"Of course I wanna fuckin' touch you, y/n. You have no idea. I wanna touch every inch of you." He sighed, leaning up on his elbows again until his face was inches away from your chest. "But, I can't."

"Then don't use your hands.. lick me instead." You insisted.

He looked up at you through his brows before his gaze returned to your breasts. You leaned forward, brushing your nipple against his beard until it hardened even more. When it brushed his lips, he instantly took it into his mouth and groaned, sucking it gently. After a few moments, he switched to the other one, flicking his tongue against it. Your head fell back while your fingers intertwined in his slick, black hair.

"Negannn." You breathed out, and he finally pulled away.

"Take those panties off and sit on my fucking face. Now." He demanded, laying flat on his back.

You eagerly obeyed him, quickly removing your panties and climbing over his face before lowering yourself down slowly. You hovered over him lightly, not wanting to press all the way down until his hands roughly pulled you closer.

"I said, sit." He said before burying his face in your cunt. The tip of his nose pressed against your clit as his tongue devoured your dripping hole and he moaned with approval.

You lifted slightly, being too sensitive too his touch, but he leaned forward, taking your clit between his lips and sucking. You cried out as your orgasm instantly rushed through you and you soaked his face. You came hard and fast, but he didn't mind as he moaned loudly, lapping up your juices. You tried to climb off of him, but he held you in place, still licking you like his life depended on it.

"Negan.." You blushed.

"Hm?"

"That's enough." You giggled.

"I'll never get enough of this sweet pussy, doll. You wanted me, now you've fuckin' got me."

His words made the butterflies somersault in your chest. You hoped he meant it. You hoped he loved you the way you loved him.

"Lay down for me." He said, finally letting you climb off of him.

You did as he said, getting comfortable on your back as he crawled over you and settled between your legs. Looking down, you noticed he was rock hard again and he rubbed the tip of his cock teasingly in between your wet folds.

"Negan.. I need to tell you something."

"Hm? What is it, doll?" He asked, leaning over you and holding himself up with his palms on either side of your head on the mattress.

"I-I've never done this before."

He smirked, looking into your eyes. "I know."

"What do you mean you know?"

"I hear everything in this place, y/n. I've heard you talking about me to your friends." He pressed his lips to yours before looking at you again. "I've heard you moaning my name at night in your bed while you touch that pretty pussy. I know everything about you, doll. I pay attention, even when you think I'm not."

You blushed at his words as you stared up at him speechless, making his smile widen. "So adorable when you're embarrassed."

He kissed you again, so hard that it took your breath away and in that moment, you knew you were head over heels in love with this man. You just wondered if he felt the same.

“What else happens in your dreams, baby? Do you let me fuck this little pussy?” He whispered in your ear, causing a chill to run down your spine.

“Y-yes.” You managed to choke out, making him chuckle.

He leaned back up, placing one of your legs over his shoulder as the other fell open for him.

“You ready for me to break you in, sweetheart? Pop that sweet little cherry?”

"Fuck, yes. Please." You whined, scooting closer to him until the tip of his cock brushed against your sex.

Negan chuckled lowly, pressing the head of his cock right against your hole. He watched you intensely as he pushed just the tip in, stopping before he went any further.

“You good, baby?” He asked, making sure you were good to continue. Once you nodded, he slid slightly deeper, feeling resistance before pushing through with a force.

You cried out at the sudden ripping sensation, making him stop again.

“No.. keep going.” You urged him, already aching from how he was stretching you, but you needed him to fill you completely. So he did, pushing himself all the way in with one swift thrust.

Your mouth fell open silently as he pressed against your cervix and let out a growl.

He fell over you again, kissing your lips as he thrusted into you at a steady pace. “You did it, baby.” He praised you softly. “I am so fuckin proud of you.”

He moved slowly, making you deliberately feel every inch of him. He repeated this motion until your face was on fire and your lower abdomen tingled.

"Fuck, y/n. You are so fucking tight." He said through gritted teeth, looking down between the two of you as he leaned back up on his knees.

"Oh fuuck, look. at. that, doll."

You leaned up on your elbows, looking down and widening your eyes when Negan pulled out of you, revealing his blood covered cock.

His thumb reached down to swipe a trail of your blood off his dick before bringing it to this mouth. You watched him enamored as his eyes rolled to the back of his head at the taste of you and he moaned with satisfaction. You blushed hard at the sight of Negan tasting your blood.

“Who do you belong to?”

“Negan.” You answered without question, following it with a moan as he pushed back into you without warning.

“That’s right, doll. This pussy? Is mine now. Understood?”

“Y-yes sir.” You cried, as he pumped into you faster.

"Ow. Ow, fuck. It hurts."

“I know baby. I know. You want me to stop?”

“No.” You said quickly. “Please don’t stop. I want it harder.”

He smiled down at you proudly as his hips bucked into you harder and your eyes clenched shut as your fingers gripped the sheets.

Looking down between the two of you again, he groaned at the sight of your blood completely coating his cock and leaking out of you with each thrust.

You whined and whimpered, desperately wanting to come again. He grinned knowingly, pressing his thumb to your clit and making your body shutter. "You gonna come on my cock, sweetheart?"

You nodded as tears flooded your eyes and his finger started working over your clit more intensely.

"Yes, yes. Please make me come."

He fucked you fast and rubbed your clit in perfect circles, watching you come undone around him. Once your walls were done convulsing around him, he fell over you again, kissing your neck and groaning in your ear. "That's it. That's my good girl."

Wet noises filled the air as he fucked you unforgivably hard. "You gonna let me cum in this pussy, baby?" He asked, biting your earlobe.

You couldn't speak, so you nodded as your vision went cloudy and his thrusts became more erratic until he stopped suddenly, pushing himself balls deep inside of you as his dick pumped you full of cum and he growled in your ear.

"Fuck, fuck, fuuuck, baby." His thrusts started again, soft and light this time as he pushed his seed deeper inside of you. He kissed your jawline, then your lips, before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

"Y/n... I love you. I love you so much, sweetheart. And goddamn I love this pussy."

#holy fucking shit #yes #just

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

I’ve never seen someone write a Negan fic that included some Simon haha.

Idk why but Simon just- big psycho hottie energy, and I’d love a fic w some sort of Simon involvement. Even if Simon was just watching reader w Negan or degrading reader or something idk.

You know what I mean. Anywho! Enjoy my depraved thoughts haha

Hello my lovely. This one was fun. :)

Two in One

Negan x Reader x Simon (threesome)

Warnings: 18+, all smut no plot, threesome, simon and negan being extremely dominant and degrading with you, spitting, choking, double penetration, unprotected sex, anal, slight daddy kink, cum play

Note: I wrote this super quick so I'm sorry if it's not the greatest. It's just pure filth honestly.

"Oh fuuuck!" You cry out as Negan pounds into you from behind.

You barely even notice the knock on Negan's bedroom door before Negan calls out annoyed. "Yeah?!"

"Got a situation, boss." Simon says, opening the door and walking in before looking up and stopping at the sight of you bent over taking Negan's cock.

Negan continues thrusting into you as he looks to Simon. "Seriously man? Little fuckin' busy here." He says unsteadily.

"I see that." Simon's eyebrows raise as he studies you. You stare back at him, resting the side of your reddened face on the bed as Negan rails you relentlessly.

You whimper with your eyes locked on Simon, deliberately putting on a show for him. The idea of someone watching you has always turned you on, and you secretly hope Negan let's him stay.

As if reading your mind, Negan motions with his gloved hand for Simon to come closer to the bed. "What's the situation?" He asks out of breath before sliding his hand across your ass and squeezing firmly.

Simon glances to you hesitantly before speaking, letting Negan know what's going on inside the walls of the sanctuary. But you're too focused on what's going on inside the walls of your cunt to notice what they're yapping about. Frustrated with their endless conversation, you slam your ass into Negan's hips repeatedly, meeting his hard thrusts as you moan loud and purposely.

"Goddamn it." Negan grunts, cutting Simon off mid sentence before pulling you up by your hair until your back is pressed against his chest. Your head leans back on his shoulder as your eyes connect with Simon's. "Can't even fuckin' hear him over all the goddamn noise you're making, sweetheart. Does daddy make you feel that good or do you just like an audience?" His hand reaches up to wrap around your throat as his dick glides in and out of you at a steady pace.

"Both" Your whine out, struggling against the restriction of his hand around your neck.

Simon's eyes roam down your naked torso, stopping at the intersection of your pussy and Negan's dick pumping inside you. The fact that Negan is openly fucking you in front of Simon makes you even hotter and can't deny.. you love being watched.

Negan chuckles before biting his bottom lip and looking at Simon, who's zoned out watching your tits bounce with each thrust.

"Simon, you heard her. My girl wants an audience. Get on the bed and watch how fuckin' good I make her pussy feel." Negan demands, sliding completely out of you before pushing on your back and shoving you down back in your original position. You fall over, catching yourself on your forearms as you settle on your knees and Simon is already in the bed in front of you with his back leaned against the headboard as he stretches his legs out on either side of you, settling in comfortably.

You can't help but notice the large bulge behind his boxers as he proudly flaunts it in your face. If you leaned down further, you could easily suck him off but you wait patiently for Negan's permission.

The bed dips behind you as Negan climbs in on his knees, immediately burying his face in your dripping cunt and eating you like his life depends on it.

You make an o-shape with your mouth at the sudden sensation of Negan's tongue entering you from behind as you lock eyes with Simon.

"One rule." Negan says into your pussy, speaking to you and Simon. "No kissing."

That's all the permission Simon needs before letting his cock spring free from the slit in his boxers and shoving your head down on his cock. "Ahh, fuck." He moans, gripping your hair tightly in his palm.

"She can take it deeper than that. And she likes it fuckin' rough." Negan tells Simon as he finally comes up for air and lines himself up at your entrance, your juices glistening in his stubbly beard.

"Good." Simon answers him before returning his gaze to your mouth wrapped around him. "Cause we are going to ruin you, sweetheart." Without warning, he shoves your head completely down his length and you immediately gag around him but he doesn't let you come up. Instead, he holds your head down until tears fill your eyes and you desperately struggle to breath. Your palms push desperately against his thighs as you fight to come up.

"Don't you dare pass out on us." Simon says, finally letting you come up for air for a moment before repeating the process. You're even more out of breath this time and can feel yourself growing weaker. "Pathetic little slut." He chuckles.

Just when you feel like you might actually pass out, Negan shoves himself deep inside of you, hitting your cervix. Simon finally lets you come up for air and you inhale a deep breath, followed by an embarrassing moan.

"Breathe, baby." Negan says from behind you. "You tell daddy the safe word if it's too much. Understood?"

"Yes sir." You whimper as Negan cock fills your hole and your head drops down. Without missing a beat, Negan reaches forward to wrap his fingers around your hair as he pulls your head up like a puppet. "Let him see your face when I fuck you, baby. Show him how good daddy makes you feel."

Negan pounds into you unforgivably, hitting a spot deeper than you ever thought possible as animalistic sounds flow from his mouth. Seems like you're not the only one who likes extra company in the bedroom.

You moan with him, not taking your eyes off Simon's until your gaze flashes to his mouth, daring him to kiss you. You know it's against Negan's rule, which only makes you want it more. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you boldly lean forward, attempting to press your lips to Simon's but he quickly grabs your throat, stopping you before you reach them.

"Oh you better be fuckin' jokin'." Negan says, his voice dripping with anger as he pulls out of you and roughly flips your body over. You look up at him with innocent eyes as you lay on your back between Simon's legs.

"S-sorry daddy."

"That was a big fuckin' mistake. You know I simply can't let that slide, right?" He asks, leaning over and squeezing his hand around your throat.

"C'mon man." Simon interrupts. "She can't help it.. she's just a desperate little whore. Aren't you sweetheart?" He asks, looking down at you. "You wanna fuckin' taste me? Open up." Simon squeezes your jaw before open before spitting directly into your mouth.

Negan's eyes glaze over with lust and pure darkness, scarier than anything you've seen before. "I think she fuckin' likes it." Negan says, squeezing your throat tighter and leaning directly over you, letting his own saliva drip into your mouth. You moan as your swallow the mix of their spit and they both grin down at you proudly. "Didn't realize what a total slut my wife was.. think you need to be punished." Negan's eyes dart back and forth between yours as he hovers above you. "I am going to fucking break you, sweetheart." He grins devilishly before letting go of your throat and pushing three of his fingers inside of you without giving you time to adjust. You cry out as his digits rip through you before he inserts another.

"Negan... it hurts." You whimper truthfully, but the pain turns you on even more and Negan knows it.

He chuckles as he pushes his hand into you, groaning at how wide he's stretching you. While Negan fists your pussy relentlessly as Simon positions himself on his knees beside you, shoving his cock in your mouth as he roughly turns your head to the side. "Gonna put these holes to use, babygirl." He grunts, filling the back of your throat as you whimper around him and struggle to breathe.

Tears flow from your eyes when Negan's hand pulls out of you and he grabs your throat, pulling you to your knees in front of them. Both men's cocks stand proud and leaking precum right in your face and you practically moan at the sight of them.

Simon's hand grips the back of your hair, angling your head back as you look up at them. Negan wipes the mascara running down your face with his thumb as he smirks. "So pretty like this.. On your knees and ready for us."

You look up at Negan innocently before turning your attention to Simon as he chimes in. "Open that pretty little mouth, sweetheart." He guides his length towards your mouth again and you open, taking him down your throat. Before you can adjust to the size of him again, Negan's thumb hooks on the inside of your cheek, widening your mouth as he shoves his own dick inside. You open wide, allowing them to use your mouth as they sloppily thrust and groan, letting their cocks rub against each other inside your warm, wet mouth.

You moan at the taste of their salty precum dripping down your throat as you reach your hand between your legs and attempt to rub at your clit but Negan stops you, grabbing your wrist and tossing you on your back.

"Wanna watch you ride his cock, baby. Put on a fucking show for me. Make daddy proud." Negan says before kissing your lips and lightly gripping your throat. "But remember who you fucking belong to."

"Y-yes sir."

Simon lays next to you, urging you to climb on top and straddle him and you let him guide you, hovering yourself over his cock while Negan relaxes his back against the headboard, eager to watch you put on a show for him.

You lock eyes with Negan as you slowly slide down on Simon's cock, making a groan fall from Simon's mouth. "Such a tight little cunt."

Negan watches you with glazed eyes as you bounce up and down on Simon. Your eyes drop to his lap, watching his hand stroke his painfully hard cock. "That's it baby. Take his fuckin' cock, you slut." Negan says through his teeth, leaning his head back against the headboard. "That's my dirty little girl."

"Negan.. I want you too."

"Yeah? Beg for my cock baby."

"Please daddy. Please, please. I need you." You whimper.

"Such a desperate whore. One dick isn't enough for you sweetheart?" Simon chuckles underneath you, tightly gripping your hips as you ride him.

Negan moves from his spot to settle in behind you, sliding his tip through your slippery folds before he sinks inside of you. You cry at the ripping sensation in your cunt as your walls are stretched to the limit with both of them inside of you. "Ohh my god. Fuck.. it hurts."

"Feels pretty good if you ask me." Simon says, thrusting up into you.

"Always about you, selfish little girl. I told you.. we are going to use you. You're nothing but a fucking hole to us, doll." Negan says, pulling you against his chest by your throat. You lean your back against his chest as your head rests against his shoulder. You can't deny that his cruel words sting, but the thought of them using you to get off lights a fire inside of you and you completely succumb to them in that moment, willing to let them have their way with you however they please.

Negan's head falls back at the intense pleasure as his cock slides against Simon's inside you. The veins in Simon's neck protrude as you stare down at him. Between Simon's hand squeezing your neck and Negan's animalistic noises filling the air, you feel your walls tighten as your orgasm approaches quickly. "Fuck.. I'm gonna.."

Before you can come, Negan's hand yanks your hair, making your head fall back and a loud moan escape your throat. Negan pulls out of you and you whine from the loss. "Negan.. please.."

"Only way you're allowed to cum is with my dick in your ass. You ready for me baby?"

Your eyes widen as you hesitantly shake your head no. "I - I don't think -"

"Of course you don't, sweetheart." Simon interjects while chuckling from underneath you. "Dumb little slut."

Negan smirks, releasing his grip on your hair and guiding the tip of his cock to your tighter hole, rubbing it teasingly in circles. "You like being treated like a whore, baby? Getting goddamn humiliated?"

When you don't answer, Simon grips your throat again, making you look at him. "He asked you a question, sweetheart."

Your eyes squeeze shut as you nod your head embarrassed.

"Good." Negan says from behind you. "Then I won't feel bad when I do this..." And that's all the warning he gives before spreading your cheeks apart and ramming his cock balls deep inside your ass.

You practically scream as he rips you apart. It hurts.. and the your safe word lingers on your tongue but you bite it back, not wanting them to stop.

Negan pumps into you without giving you time to adjust and you bite down on your lip so hard that you eventually taste blood. Tears pour out of your eyes as both men use your holes to feel good. They moan loudly as you sob, starting to feel your orgasm return.

"Oh my goddddd. Fuuuuuuck." You come embarrassingly hard from the pain and pleasure and their own orgasms come close.

"You want me to fill this ass up with my cum sweetheart?" Negan asks, gritting his teeth.

You nod, still riding out your orgasm as Simon lets out a groan from below you, slowing down his thrusts. The moan that escapes his throat tells you that he's about to come and Negan pulls you off of him quickly, not wanting Simon to come inside you. He lays back on the bed and brings you with him, so that you're in reverse cowgirl position on top of him with his dick still impaling your ass. It's painfully uncomfortable, but turns you on more than you thought possible. You ride Negan's cock as you watch the come shoot from Simon's tip, licking your lips at the sight.

"What are you fucking looking at? Clean me up." Simon says, nodding his head towards the ropes of white cum spread across his stomach as he rises to his knees on the bed in front of you.

You lick a line from his pubes to the top of his stomach as you moan at the salty taste of him. "Maybe you are a good girl after all." He says proudly, looking down at you.

Negan slams your hips down on him, halting suddenly to fill you up. He groans loudly when he shoots inside of you. "Godddddamn, Fuck. Fuck."

You fall to the bed, completely spent and out of breath.

"Well that was fun." Simon says, resting his hands on his hips and looking to Negan. "Same time tomorrow, boss?"

"...Don't fucking push it."

#👀😌

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

A Fuzzy Friend

Simon x Fem! Doctor! Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1.3k

“It can’t be that different.”

He had that look on his face.

It was a mischievous look that held amused undertones. His eyebrows were slightly narrowed, and he had that shit-eating grin on his face. It wasn’t a look that he expressed often, but it was one that you knew good and well. 

When he walked into the infirmary with “the look”, you know that he had done something he wasn’t supposed to do.

He had walked in around mid-afternoon. It had been a fairly slow day. The weather was nice, and the sun was shining, although it didn’t do much to offer comfort to the crisp winter air.  In your experience, better weather meant less people screwing up and around and getting hurt. Your day had been uneventful, and it was your mistake to take that for granted. 

Afficher davantage

#awwww #🥺🥺 #animal love Simon #thats a first #and i love it

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

Fem!Reader

Price saves you from some creeps

Simon's version

thinking about Price taking you on a drive after he picks you up from some shady bar to keep your mind off the creeps.

when you called him in a panic, uncontrollable sobs and hiccups escaping you while you tried to explain what happened, he felt his blood boil with pure rage.

"I'm on my way, sweetheart." he said to you and he was there in about 10 minutes, then found your shaking figure hiding in the bathroom.

"Shh, baby. It's ok. You're safe now. I'm here." he coos softly in your ear while holding your trembling body in his arms.

he calls the lads to get in there and teach them a lesson while he takes care of you.

he'd be more than happy to do it himself, knocking their asses off for daring to touch his princess.

but he needs to take care of you. you're his priority. he has to take you away from there asap.

"Are you ok? Did they hurt you?" he asks, "I-I'm f-fine... I got in here to hide as quickly as I could." you respond through sobs and gasps for air.

"Good girl." he praises and kisses your forehead before placing a hand on your back to guide you to his car.

he takes you to your favorite places after roaming around the city for a while, "I'll take care of it, baby. Don't you worry about it one bit." he promises, his hand gently caressing your thigh, his touch warm and comforting.

he tells you funny stories and sings along to some old tunes and plays your favorite songs to distract you.

and when that gorgeous smile of yours finally returns, painting your beautiful face, he smiles proudly and reaches over to gently trace his fingers along your chin and jawbone, cooing softly "There's my girl!"

#🥺

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

Chris Evans for CBeebies | Bedtime Story | Goodnight, Goodnight 

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

I have nothing to justify this. I'm using this as my phonescreen so I made 2 versions for phones. The colours might be a bit of, cause I made it a long time ago (wasn't sure if should post it but screw it 🙃)

#🤣love it

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

Prompt List

I’ve seen a couple of prompt lists, and I wanted to compile a list of my favorites for oneshots. Most of it is based off of @dear-yandere​‘s prompt list, you can find those here. Feel free to request these for oneshots, but I won’t do the same prompt for the same character twice.

Addiction - “If you want me to beg, then I’ll beg for you.”

Allure - “I want to tell you I love you until my throat bleeds.”

Anesthetic - “Sleep tight, I’ll deal with our little annoyance.”

Angel - “This world doesn’t deserve an angel like you.”

Aphrodisiac - “Just give into me, love.”

Band-aids - “Don’t you know how much this hurts me?”

Blanket - “You’re so cute when you’re asleep!”

Blood - “Who hurt you?”

Break - “Should I just break your legs? That way you can never, ever run away again.”

Bruises -  “I will never let you leave.”

Cage - “I will protect you from everything.”

Camera - “You were beautiful in the photos I took, but you’re absolutely perfect in my arms.”

Candles - “I just want to show you how much I love you…”

Carvings - “Please! You can use me all you like, just don’t leave me!”

Cellar - “I’ll lock you up and throw away the key if you think about doing that again, understand?”

Chains - “I’ll do whatever it takes if it means we’ll be together forever.”

Choker - “You have no idea how much I have been holding myself back for you.”

Clouds - “You don’t even know how lucky you are. I protect you and provide for you. Don’t act so ungrateful.”

Control - “Can’t you see? The world is a scary and dangerous place. If you stay here, you’ll be safe. In my arms.”

Corpses - “The next time they touch what’s mine, I’ll cut their arm off.”

Crown - “The world doesn’t revolve around you, but my love does.”

Crucify - “This is all your fault. You have nobody to blame but yourself.”

Defeat - “I’m yours, use me in any way that you want.”

Delirium - “Why do you think I’m stalking you? I’m only keeping you safe. You need me.”

Desperation - “You’re happy being with me, right?”

Disguise - “Why aren’t you happy? I look exactly like your lover! Kiss me, hug me, love me, me, me!”

Doll -  “I’ll give you every little piece of me. Just don’t leave me.”

Escape - “Did you really think you could get away from me?”

Eyes - “I’ll gouge out their eyes, so they can never look at you ever again.” 

Flowers - “Is it so hard to love me?”

Fog - “I’ll kiss away the pain, love.”

Gaslight - “I know you better than you know yourself.”

Guardian - “I’m your Guardian Angel. I exist solely for you.”

Guns - “I think they might be a problem. Don’t worry, love, I’ll take care of them for you.”

Heartless - “If you leave me, I’ll die!”

Hope - “I don’t wanna hurt you, baby.”

Hubris - “I will destroy everything in my way until I have you.”

Hysteria - “I’m only this desperate for you.”

Jealousy - “You don’t need anyone but me.”

Joker -   “I hope you understand just how far I’m willing to go for you. How many rules I’m willing to break for you.” 

Key - “If you just do what you’re told then we wouldn’t have a problem, would we?”

Kisses - “Tell me how much you love me.”

Locks - “I know you liked them, sweetie, but they were keeping you away from me.”

Love letter - “Am I wrong? You want to be loved, Don’t you?”

Lungs - “I need you more than I need to breathe.”

Marks -  “You can hurt me if you want. Hit me, stab me, yell at me. You can do anything, if you just stay with me.”

Memories - “I can make all of your pain go away. You just have to say the words.”

Mercy - “If I killed myself, would that make you happy?”

Moonlight - “I’m sorry, honey, but you made me jealous. They had to die.”

Paralysis - “There’s nowhere to run. So don’t scream anymore, love.”

Paranoia - “I know everything about you.”

Photos - “I’m so happy you finally wanted to take a picture with me! They can go right next to the ones of you sleeping.”

Poison - “Sorry sweetie, this was just a precaution! I promise I won’t poison you as much.”

Punishment - “I know it hurts, honey, but this is what happens when you don’t do what I say.”

Queen - “If you’re with me, I don’t need anything else.”

Rain - “Why are you crying? Aren’t you happy to be with me?”

Red string - “I’m madly in love with you. You’re all I ever think about.”

Restraints - “Be a good girl and sit still. You don’t want me to be unhappy right?”

Secrets - “You can run away but I will always find you.”

Smiles - “Where’s that smile I’m looking for, sugar?”

Stranger - “You’re lying. You love me, I know it.”

Sunshine - “It’s okay to love me. Please love me.”

Tears - “Sweetie, don’t cry.. they didn’t love you as much as I did.. I’ll help you over the heartbreak.”

Veins - “You are the reason I live.”

Window - “I saw you last night…you looked beautiful.”

Wine - “I’ll bleed for you.”

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

You're out walking yours and Simon's dog, Riley, one afternoon when some guy you've never met all but saunters up to you.

He tries to chat you up, laying the flirtation on so thick it congeals into sleaze. You shut him down bluntly at every turn, but unfortunately, he's... determined.

Riley growls as he takes a step closer, the retired military dog pushing himself in front of you with hackles raised and teeth bared.

And still, the stranger doesn't get the hint. He merely huffs out an amused laugh as he looks from Riley to you.

"Didn't realize you had a guard dog -"

Suddenly, his gaze wanders past you. The cocky grin on his face drains away in an instant as he pales.

Like he's seen a Ghost.

"She's got two, mate."

#hehe

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

She's not acting very lady-like by telling poor Summer how her husband's dick is 😭😂 eesh....

Winter's King 8

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: yo, work is driving me nuts.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Lady Jazlene, a queen by marriage, cries herself to sleep. You stay until she snores and snuff the candle as you leave her on her stomach atop the stuffed mattress. You emerge between the guards and wonder if they keep people out or keep her in. 

They don’t react to you. No one really does. A shadow approaches. The thickset man grunts at you as the moonlight shines off his dark mail. Bryce waits patiently as you near him. He turns and walks beside you in silence. 

Much of the camp is asleep. The only fires that remain are those of the soldiers on watch for marauders and bandits. Your soles kick loose pebbles and trample flattened grass further. You yawn as you reach the luggage carts and find the one you rode in. The grey horse is tie to the axle, dozing on its feet with puffing nostrils. 

“The road will not get any less turbulent,” Bryce warns as he grabs his bedroll from across his mount’s rump. “You will need sleep, maid.” 

“Thank you, sir,” you lift the canvas draped over the back of the wagon. 

He grumbles and unfurls his roll across the dirt. You climb up and nestle down beneath the cover, pressed against a chest as you curl up. You hear the soldier lay down with a groan, “...too sweet...” 

You close your eyes and rest your head on a bent arm. The darkness quickly swallows you up into slumber and the day fades into obscurity. You’re not conscious long enough to dread the one ahead. 

As the sun rises, heat gathers in the cart. You wake in a damp sweat, nearly suffocating as you gulp up cool air. You slip down onto your feet and grab onto the cart to keep from stumbling. Bryce grunts as your soles crunch on the ground. 

“Eh, where’re you off to?” He sneers. 

You look down at him. His eyes are still closed as his grey steed sniffs at the dirt close to him. 

“Sir, I... I haven’t... relieved myself since... erm, well...” 

“Go on, but not too far,” he opens his eyes and sits up. “Holler if you meet trouble.” 

The horse huffs into his steely hair and he pets its nose. He grabs onto its reins and hauls himself up. You quickly spin and flit away. You go off into the brush where its thick and squat down, your skirts gathered above your knees. You miss the springs behind the castle where you would bathe with the other maids, you could use a wash now. 

You finish up and peer over the stretch of bodies, horses, and carts. You set off back toward the cart and as you come in sight of Bryce, he unties a dented kettle from his saddles. You feel much better without the pressure beneath your guts.  

“I could fetch water,” you offer. 

He looks over his shoulder. You think you surprised him. 

“Quiet mouse,” he mutters and faces you, gripping the bent handle, “I can manage a potful of water.” 

“Yes, sir, I only was being helpful.” 

“You stay, take Daisy to find some fresh grass,” he points to the horse. 

“Daisy?” You look at the beast, “is that her name?” 

He shrugs and stalks off. You go to the reins and loose them. You glance around and lead her over to an unyellowed swath of grass. She dips her long neck and grazes, tearing the strands noisily as her teeth clack. You pet her ear as she comes rather close to the hem of your skirt. 

Heavy steps tramp up behind you. You don’t bother looking as you assume it’s Bryce. Those who are stirring are barely able to lift themselves out of their rolls. The lazy rise of dawn does not inspire fastidiousness as the clouds haze amber and rose. 

“Fine horse,” the king’s timbre rumbles over you. 

You turn and bow your head, “your highness.” 

He inhales through his nose before he speaks again, “are you a fast rider?” 

“I’ve never... I don’t ride, your highness,” you reply, staring at his black mail, just at the center of his chest. “It isn’t my horse.” 

“I know it, I thought perhaps...” he begins and shifts his weight in his boots, “you might’ve secreted away the mare. That you would be sick for your home.” 

“Your highness? No, I wouldn’t--” You put your hand to your apron, “I am not a thief.” 

He pauses and his thick fingers toy with his belt, fiddling with a leather purse, “that isn’t what I...” he blows out in exasperation, “I do not think you dishonest. In fact, you are the most honest creature I’ve met around here.” 

You keep your eyes down, “I only mean to feed the horse.” 

“Yes, I believe you,” he assures, his tone glum, “forgive my inference. Truly, it wasn’t intended as such.” 

“I understand, your highness,” you say. 

“It was a jape, a poor one, I suppose,” he hooks his thumb in his belt and turns to pace. “I wanted to thank you. I have yet to figure out how to handle Lady Jazlene but you keeping her company, I do appreciate it.” He stops and crosses his arms as he faces you again, “last night, what you heard and saw... we are strangers still, her and I.” 

“I am a maid, your highness, I serve the lady and you now,” you reply, “that’s all I do.” 

His arms bulge before he drops them, “yes, I suppose for you, the matters of nobility are dull.” 

“It is not of my concern, your highness,” you say, “I am to see that all the wine and food and little things are taken care of.”  

You peer up at the sky as the dimness slowly recedes. His figure looms below and he slowly treads closer. You squeeze the reins. 

“You serve the queen, the king, and... a horse,” he reaches to touch its snout, dragging his knuckles along its grey fur. “Make certain we are fed and content.” 

“Whatever is needed, your highness,” you answer and watch his hand stroke the horse. 

“And what do you need?” He asks. 

You quork your head and stick out your lip. It's an odd question. You have what you need. You have a place in the cart, you have some nuts left over from Bryce’s generosity, and you have some hours sleep behind you. 

“Nothing, I think,” you say. 

He scratches behind the horse’s ear, “and what do you want?” 

You purse your lips. You think. Another strange inquiry. What should you want? That’s not something anyone ever worried for. You only troubled after what others wanted. 

“I... I want to see the snow,” you say at last, “I think I dreamt of it but I can’t remember. I don’t really know what it would look like but I remember once Merinda spoke of it. She knew a stable hand who once lived in the north.” 

He’s quiet. Your answer isn’t very interesting. To him, the snows must be so tedious. Nothing more than ordinary. He makes a clicking noise. 

“I want to see the snow too,” he pulls his hand away from the horse and for a moment, he seems to reach for you, recoiling short of touching your grasp on the reins. He withdraws and presses his thumb to his teeth. He hums. “We have far to go before the snow...” he rasps, “should you require anything for the road ahead, you may ask.” 

“That is kind, your highness, but I don’t expect I require much,” you assure, “thank you.” 

“Mmm,” he drones as he faces the sunrise and sets his posture, “onward.” 

He marches away as you stay and watch Daisy munch on the grass. You comb your fingers through her main, loosening the tangles. When another approaches, you glance over. Bryce tidies his own hair with his hands. 

“Water is boiling, maid,” he declares, “I have some spare mint leaf for tea.” 

“Yes, sir, thank you,” you smile down at Daisy and move out of reach of her teeth. “I will stay with the horse until she is done.” 

“Hm, aye, I understand,” his forehead lines, “she is much more pleasant than I.” 

He nods and turns back the way he came. You watch after him as he goes to sit before the hanging kettle, a low flame burning beneath it. He rolls his shoulders and hunches forward as he plants his elbows on his knees. These people of the Hinterlands are not so cold as they pretend. 

⚔️

The long train continues through the lands. Some days slower than others. There are some where progress stops at midday in favour of passing through a village or approaching a nearby farm. The king departs from the larger party, riding with his soldiers to greet the commonfolk. Lady Jazlene refuses to accompany her husband in favour of her silk tent and wine. 

The pauses in your trek makes you curious; you only ever heard of King Waleran showing his face to the citizens during the harvest festivals and self-aggrandizing ceremonies. You never saw the king yourself, only heard Lord Dustan and his wife resentfully complain of how the king never made the journey to Debray. Did he not recall that once a duchess was married to his great-uncle? 

You spend the hours in Jazlene’s company. She wants her wine and mutton. You notice that her appetite for the former has grown since the first day’s travel. She even requested that some casks be sought during one of the king’s visits. He acted as if he did not hear her entreaty. Their few encounters since that first night have been terse and short, neither offering much more than a word or two. 

The queen swirls her cup, watching the motion of the wine within. She giggles and puts it down, picking up the looking glass and admiring herself. She sits on a wooden stool, her skirts dusted with the dirt of the road. Despite the filth, she insists on sporting a new gown each day, no matter how extravagant. 

“What a fool? To think he is wasting his time on commoners,” she trills, “you know, he should be here, worried about his wife and queen. Not married a week and all we’ve done is ride anon. I’ve had no wedding, no feast. How I am neglected for these dirty farmers.” 

You say nothing. You’re not certain she recalls you’re there. She speaks to herself often as if her mother is there. A few times, she has even called for the duchess. Often when she’s nearly finished the bottle. 

She pouts and sniffs. She drains the cup completely and puts it down heavily on the crate next to her. She grips the mirror with both hands and looks at her reflection. She contorts her face, sucking in her cheeks, pushing out her lips, turning her head this way and that. 

“Aren’t I beautiful?” She nearly whispers. You don’t flinch. You stare at your hem. She sighs and stomps her foot, “I’m asking you!” 

You peek up at her, surprised.  

“Yes, your highness, you are very beautiful.” 

She frowns, “you lie to me.” 

“I wouldn’t lie, your highness.” 

“Don’t argue with me,” she snarls and slams the mirror down, cracking the glass on the crate. She stands and blusters around, her skirts catching between her legs, “if I am beautiful, what makes me so, hm? Tell me!” 

You stare at her. She is beautiful. You always thought so.  

“Your hair, your curls, your highness, they are beautiful.” 

She rolls her eyes, “just my hair?” 

She wobbles slightly as she struts towards you. 

“Your eyes. They are pretty too. And you have a nicely set nose. And your lips are finely curved, your highness,” you explain as she looms closer and closer. 

“Hmph,” she stops, slouching drunkenly as she leans in to consider you, “of course you would say so. Look at you. So plain. An ugly handmaid.” 

You stare back at her, a strike in your chest, then drop your gaze. It is the wine. She huffs, her alcohol-laden breath tinging your nose. 

“The king,” she babbles as she turns on her heels, swaying dangerously, “we’ve only lain together our first night. It was... quick. He didn’t want me to sleep with him,” she raises a hand and flutters her fingers, “he shooed me away like some whore.” She spins and falls onto the stool, “if I am so beautiful, why does he not want me?” 

You watch her. She isn’t looking for your answer. She’s talking to talk. Lady Rezlyn isn’t there so she has only herself and stagnant air trapped in the tent. 

“It is my duty to have his babies. To give him heirs. I cannot do that if he will not touch me. But perhaps when are in one place, he might try again,” she smiles and lifts the broken mirror. She tilts it and lets her hand drift down to your bodice. She pushes her chest up, “when he lets me take this off, he will see. He will want me.” 

She convinces herself as she preens at her reflection, “perhaps it won’t hurt.” She looks around and sees the bottle of wine. She grabs it by the neck. She grips it and wiggles it at you in the air. “He’s even thicker than this,” she puts the mirror down and balances the bottle on her palm as she circles her fingers around the bottom of the bottles neck, just before it rounds out, “and longer.” 

You stare at the silk wall, mortified by her words. She giggles and the movement of her hand draws your eyes up. You watch from under your lashes as she brings her hands up and down the bottle neck. 

“Mother says, just like this,” she pumps it, “that he should like it very much.” She stops and focuses on the bottle, “mmm, he is a man underneath it all.” She tosses the bottle away, “and I am a beautiful woman. He will want me.” 

You lower your eyes again and twine your fingers together. You can’t help but feel bad for her. You only wish you had some words of wisdom or comfort to offer her. Or that she would hear them. You can’t help but touch the fading bruise along your stomach as you languish in the tepid silence. It’s better to let her forget you. 

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

one thing the human emotional range is lacking is the predator animal ability to stare at people while holding the limp, bloody corpse of your prey in your mouth

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

Walton Goggins as The Ghoul/Cooper Howard in Fallout "The Head"

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

This is one of my first times requesting so if I mess anything up please let me know!

I recently encountered the prompt line 'I’m going to ask you how you are and I would like you to answer me honestly.' And my brain has ran WILD with it, If your comfy with it can you do Alejandro or Rudy? Only if your comfy with it! Just delete this ask if you aren't :)

the messier the better anon, nothing in less organised than organised chaos. THE BEST in my opinion. But I’m assuming it’s supposed to be angst and fluff???? Anyway, how about both????

Cw: angst?, fluff, feelings, tell me if I missed any.

He was warm, the spice and sun that clung to his clothes brought comfort to you in soft waves, a slow and gentle wash of his affection and love for someone like you. You couldn’t understand how someone as loved as Alejandro was, could love someone like you, eagerly hold a piece of his heart out without concern for himself, gifting you a space in his welcoming heart. You could almost hear Rudolfo scold you for your thoughts, reminding you that you were important to them, a beating piece of the duo that slowly eased into a trio. 

“Mi cielo, ” Alejandro mumbled, pressing his silken lips on your shoulder, trailing kisses up your neck and grounding you with a strong grip of your hips, rocking you back and forth while he mumbled sweet praises.

You melted in his arms, his pretty, sun-kissed skin and sharp face, his sinful lips and dark eyes, all things that made him so strong and dependable. Your eyes closed tiredly, leaning back against his solid frame, thick arms and chest supporting you when your knees shuddered, weakened by your exhaustion. You wondered what you did to deserve such devotion, such care from respected men: one headstrong and confident leader, and his gentle and quick-witted right-hand. 

“How are you, mi Corazón? ”you blinked when you felt calloused hands hold your limp ones, thumb running over your knuckles and pecking your cheek.

You followed the arm up to a gleeful face, his concerned smile on those pink lips and his warm eyes, the gentle curve of his cheeks and beautiful brows. You tried to smile back, return the courtesy Rudy gave you, to reach from the depth of your being and give him a taste of something you used to fear. You knew he could see the strain on your face, the heavy bags from your fitful sleep and nightmare that haunted your conscience every moment you closed your eyes, but you strived to try for them. 

Lips parting, you rasped out the first words of a familiar reply, the same you always gave— 

“The truth, pro favor, mi Corazón, ” you saw the ache in his chocolate hues, the pained tone of his voice as he locked fingers with you, sturdy and grounding, reminding you that you were in the present and not the past.

“I’m… tired,” you sighed, head bowed forward to lay on his shoulder, nose running up his collar and hiding in his familiar scent. Relaxing further in their shared embrace, nuzzling the scratchy stubble under his jaw, grumbling against his earthy and pepper scent, “But I can’t sleep. They keep waking me up.”

“You could have told us, mi cielo, ” Alejandro cooed, pressing you deeper into Rudy’s arms, knocking his forehead with Rudy’s, “We would have helped you.”

You grumbled a tried: “I know,” that made them both chuckled lightly, “I just.. I didn’t want to bother you.”

“You aren’t a bother, ” Rudy swore, his tone a whisper as if it were a secret to keep between you three.

And Alejandro completed it, a promise written in the stars and in the earth, words whispered into your soul and mind: “You never are.”

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