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bunnysdaydreams · 18 hours

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Cockwarming Simon as you two make out in his office.

From the request here

“I need it in ya, baby,” Simon gasps in between the breaks in your lips connection. “Just for a bit. Ya know ya fuckin’ want me in ya too.”

The tiny office is silent save for the deep groans and sharp breaths as Simon holds you close, you perched comfortably on his beefy thighs while he sits at his desk so that he can steal kiss after heated kiss, relishing in the feeling of your soft lips against his own. Rough hands run up the length of your back, following your spine over your shirt until they reach the back of your head where he uses them to draw your face in tighter until your mouth stings from the pressure.

Sitting in the middle of his lap you can feel his cock poking against the cheek of your ass, pulsing and throbbing as it strains against the fabric of his pants. It’s no surprise what he needs; it’s the same thing he wants every time he calls you into his office for a “meeting” during your lunch break, which is becoming more and more frequent these days.

You are a very addictive problem, one that he is constantly losing himself in and making every excuse in the book to spend as much time wrapped up in that he can. A pretty thing like you, how is he supposed to keep his hands off? If that means setting up a quick make out session to get through the day, then he’s gonna make it happen one way or another.

“Have training in a bit,” you mutter as you break from his mouth just for a split second. “Don’t want to be late.”

He’s right back on you before the last beat of your reply can hit, not wanting to be parted from you for longer than needed. It takes a minute before he tries to reason with you again. “Not gonna be late,” he reassures. “But how the hell am I supposed to stay outta ya, hmm? Not when ya feel so fuckin’ good. Just want ya to warm me for a bit and then I’ll make sure you’re outta here with plenty ‘a fuckin’ time.”

His hand rubs along one of your thighs as the other is still tangled in the strands of your hair, not wanting to give you the chance to get away from the barrage of his lips. Fuck, it’s getting harder to think straight the longer his mouth captures yours in that tangled dance that he seems to be an expert in. You lean into his embraces a bit more and Simon is sure he has you right where he wants you now.

There is not a chance in hell you are going to deny him. “You better make it up to me later,” you say breathlessly and you can feel his lips upturn into a smile against your own.

The grip on your hair tightens as he gives it a sharp tug. “Take off your fuckin’ pants.”

That gravely, heavily accented tone sends a full shiver down your spine. No one can make a demand like that sound so fucking good, especially now that he’s made you delirious off his kisses alone.

The officers building is full of people today so privacy is near non-existent and though you know this is probably a terrible idea, you can’t be stopped. Helping you off his lap Simon sets you on your feet to the side of the desk, giving you the space to do what you need to do. He watches with hungry eyes as you undo the button keeping your bottoms secure; goddamn you are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?

Adjusting himself, he sits back more in his chair. “Slower,” he demands firmly.

Instantly your movements become measured as you take your time undressing while you keep those beautiful eyes directly on him. He doesn’t break eye contact at all; instead his hand slips down over his abdomen to the crotch of his own pants where he tugs at the fabric tenting there before massaging the spot as he watches your little striptease. Those unflattering uniforms keep all those voluptuous curves hidden from his view and so any chance he gets to see you out of them is a treat indeed.

You drag the zipper down painfully slow, making sure to give him all the tantalizing he wants. As the front now hangs open, you slide your hands back to your hips where you slip your fingers into the waistband and begin to push them down until the top seam of the panties clinging around your hips are exposed.

Eyes unblinking, breathing stayed, Simon is caught in the moment, his hand pulling up the hem of his shirt just over his navel so that he can fiddle with his belt buckle until he can pry the damned thing loose. He grunts as he has to roll his hips back so that he can slip his hand between the bulk of stocky muscle on his lower abdomen and the seam of his pants to get it off. The metallic clink rings out and he quickly undoes the rest, plunging his hand inside to pull out his cock so that he can palm it and give it a proper stroke as you continue on.

Instantly you freeze as your eye catches that trail of sparse hair traveling down the line of his stomach below his belly button towards his member and your mouth begins to salivate and a hard, throbbing pulse between your thighs makes your legs feel like liquid. God, you are so down bad for your superior that it is bordering on pathetic the way that even that small patch of hair has you chomping at the bit.

Simon clears his throat as he catches your sight lingering and as you meet the glint in his eyes and the smirk on his kiss-raw lips, you refocus on the task at hand. These pants still have to go and time is of the essence. You continue on, pushing the fabric down over the curve of your ass to your thighs and then your ankles in the same slow fashion, only this time more unsteady as your heartbeat pounds. They hit the ground and those damned pants are finally off; there you stand before him in nothing but your panties.

“Off,” he hisses as his head nods down to the last article of clothing keeping you from being filled by him.

There’s heat bubbling in your cheeks now, making them flush, and though you are almost rendered dumb just from the tension alone there’s still a little fire in you yet. “What’s the magic word?” you ask with a good bit of sass.

A chuckle escapes his mouth as his hand strokes harder around his dick; he does love a bit of cocky pushback, but make no mistake that that will be remembered for later. His mouth yearns to devour your lips again and he doesn’t want to wait any more than he already has, so he lets it be…for now. Leaning forward in his seat he reaches out and his large hand wraps around your wrist to pull you back to him.

“Keep ‘em on all ya fuckin’ want sweetheart, don’t need ya to take ‘em off for what I wanna do,” he groans as he grabs onto your hips and forces you to move yourself back on top of him straddling over his lap.

Fair enough.

You can feel his warm fingers twitching with anticipation as they move in between your thighs and up against your clothed sex before his digits hook themselves into the crotch of your panties and wrench them to one side roughly. The seam digs into that soft area at your upper inner thigh as you loosely wrap your arms around his neck while a hand on your hip aligns your body at the perfect spot over top of him.

Holding the base of his cock, Simon pushes down on your hip and you don’t fight it. “That’s a good fuckin’ girl, now let’s get this in,” he praises as the tip pokes through your petals and against your entrance. A harder press on your body and his cock shoves its way inside, stretching you wide as it slips in and you whine inside your closed mouth as you struggle to take him in so quickly.

“F-fuck,” he exclaims, his body shuddering as you come all the way down until you are once again sitting on his lap only this time with all of him thrust deep inside you. “Isn’t this better? Goddammit, this is where ya fuckin’ belong princess.”

His forehead comes to rest on your own, staggered breath being siphoned between the pair of your lips before he leans up into you and crushes your mouths back together in sloppy kisses that leave you with a yearning that situates itself deep in your core. Your mouth is like candy, sweet and addictive, and each brush of your lips against his own only makes him vibrate with a need for more. Long fingers find their way back to tangle in your hair to grip it hard as he smashes his face in until your features are molded together.

Those soft, supple lips are his to ruin and he will, by fuck he will. With each fiery embrace he lays his claim upon your mouth as if he wishes to bind your faces together so he never has to do without their euphoria. Without warning his strong, thick tongue parts your lips with ease and plunges fully inside your mouth to dance and twist with your own, filling the orifice to capacity as he shoves it down the back of your throat.

You can barely intake air with your mouth full of his tongue, but it doesn’t matter. Suffocation feels like a dream when you are stuffed so overwhelmingly from above and below. Your pussy holds him tight, tight enough that the throbbing from the blood rushing to engorge his cock feels like he’s being stroked without any movement. Each throb has a visceral reaction and you can feel the wetness gathering by the second with every beat.

The dizzying intensity of his kisses and the pulsating of his cock are too much and leave you clenching your thighs, squeezing him in the process as you cannot help rocking your hips, but that is dangerous territory. Simon is already teetering close to the razor’s edge.

“Don’tcha fuckin’ move,” he says with a sharp hiss of breath, wrangling your hips down square against his pelvis with a heavy grip so that you cannot shift them at all. “We don’t have time to do this proper, just need to feel ya to get through this fuckin’ day and then I’ll do it right later.”

There is desperation on his lips something vicious and it can be felt in the way his embraces become more aggressive; through the haze fogging your brain you instinctively know he is holding on by a thread. Doing as he says, you do your best to keep yourself still to allow his cock to soak in you just as he wants.

Your arms around his neck tighten as you grip on to sanity and his hands travel back up your body to cradle your face between them. There’s nothing outside of the taste of your lips, the burn from the pressure of your mouths together, the throbbing from inside your tight pussy as it coats his cock in your nectar. It all becomes an insatiable blur as his mind numbs and he forgets everything else outside of the ecstasy of you.

The longer he’s buried in you the more your walls swell to squeeze him tighter and he does not realize what is happening. Simon forgets that he is getting too worked up, succumbing to all that pleasure that he cannot stop his body from its more primal instincts. With each passing minute the tension from the coil knotting in his abdomen is drawing closer together, threatening to snap at any second and send him coming and coming hard.

Eyes closed, mind gone, body so warm it feels like he is on fire, the feeling of your body driving him insane, it is all too much. That coil has tightened all it can and he finally becomes aware of it just as you accidentally rock your hips ever so slightly, but it is enough that there is nothing else he can do other than accept what is about to happen.

“Fuck,” he groans against your parted lips as he realizes that he has miscalculated just how much he can take. “Ugh…fuck, baby.”

It’s too late, this cannot be stopped and at the last second he reacts. With a sharp, loud grunt he picks your hips up and rocks his own back to pull out of you just as he pops off. The sticky, warm emission spurts out of him with force and up onto his exposed belly, catching the bottom half of his t-shirt in its intensity. His lips lock to yours in an effort to keep the noise from those deep, guttural whimpers down as he rolls his hips, milking every last out of the aching tip that he can as you grind against it.

A couple of minutes pass before his pace finally slows and comes to a stop with nothing left to give as that swift flow of exhaustion floods his body. Those bruised lips unlatch from your own as he falls against the back of the chair to sit limp as he works to regulate his breathing. Being so worked up is something he is still getting used to, losing himself like that is not a problem he had before you came along. But no one has ever made him feel as if he’d been struck by a live wire before: all excitement whenever you are around.

Just one of the hazards of being with such a vixen.

There is still a pulsing in you that causes your body to continue to ache, but as your wandering eyes land on the watch around Simon’s wrist you see that there are only a few minutes left before you need to be in training and you still have to make it across base. Carefully, you get up off of him and make your way to your pants, redressing fast as those brown eyes cling to your every move.

“See what ya fuckin’ do to me, sweetheart? I’m a goddamn mess for ya,” he sighs as he watches you fix your soaked panties back into place before pulling your pants back on, sad to see such a gorgeous sight be concealed once more.

“Seems like we have that in common,” you smile as you finish up and lean back into him, using his thighs as support as you give him one last, lingering kiss. You’re already gonna be late, might as well make it worth it.

Simon wants you to stay, to have you for the rest of the afternoon, but he knows that duty calls and if he doesn’t tell you to go then it’s only going to get harder to leave. “Best get outta here ‘fore I change my mind and do somethin’ stupid to get us both in fuckin’ trouble,” he says with a nod of his head. “We’ll finish this up later, I swear.”

You lean in one more time for a short peck before turning tail and quickly making your way out of the office. Simon’s gaze lingers on your form until you exit and shut the door behind you, leaving him alone to deal with the mess he’s made of himself while his raw lips are already craving yours again.

“She is a problem,” he chuckles to himself, “a very big fuckin’ problem.”

Tag list: @llelannie

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bunnysdaydreams · 1 day

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Closeted Monsterfucker!Reader X Monster!Konig before the monster uprising

You were good at keeping a secret.

Hiding behind closed doors, never allowing your colleagues to know about your dirty little secret. Not just a monster apologist, a lunatic who seriously thinks that monsters deserve rights and can actually be better than humans, but a slut who is whoring herself for the monster's cock. If other researchers knew about your little tryst with Konig, they'd be horrified. Disgusted. You'd be turned into a pile of meat to be thrown away, not even fed to the monsters.

This is why you beg Konig to be quiet as he fills you up with his tentacles, pushing as deep as possible. He can't breed you, there is no way you could hide being filled up with his eggs, and it frustrates him. You kiss his face, allowing him to drop your shirt over his head - he hates showing his face, you know this, but he is a violent monster hybrid, and he doesn't have rights in the research facility. You do your best to make his life a little less miserable - at least helping him with parts of his rut. Bringing him food and allowing him to fuck you with his tentacles, even though you both know he can't bite you like he wants to. Can't leave marks because your coworkers would see this - and you like Konig too much to leave him like that.

You just...you never knew that your affection would be the reason for him to reach his breaking point. You gave him a reason to slowly start resisting and urge other monsters to do so - and with other tension rising among the monster populace, you knew it would be a matter of time before the chaos would finally break out. You think humans do deserve a bit of a tough lesson - at least for how they treated many of the less compliant monsters. You just never thought you'd be alive for long enough to witness this.

Oh, but you're Konig's treasure now. Trophy wife, the most precious pet - the one he can mark as much as he wants, the one who can carry his eggs, finally bred and mated properly. You enjoy it, even though having no restrictions still feels like a foreign fantasy.

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bunnysdaydreams · 3 days

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Into the Fire

TF141 x f!reader

Part 6

Series Masterlist

TW: MDNI 18+, violence, injury description, blood, horror elements, character death, p in v, rough sex

AN: this is it, the last part of my mini epic and I am so happy you’ve all stuck with me with this. It’s great to see how many people enjoy my version of Gaz! And it’s been great to write for the rest of the characters as well. Now enjoy 🖤⚔️🛡️

Cold dread settles into the pit of your stomach at the guard’s words, and talk of boats appearing in the harbour as if by magic. Squires hurry in carrying weapons and armour, Price and Simon give orders and begin to direct the defensive forces. A hand grips your arm and you turn to see Laswell pulling you from your seat.

“Come on, let’s get you somewhere safe,” she says firmly, her expression grim. With a final glance at Kyle, who gives you and Laswell a brief nod, you let her escort you from the room. Already you can hear distant yelling echoing through the halls, screams of fear and pain, the clashing of steel on steel as the fight enters the castle.

“Keep with me,” Laswell says, trying to reassure you and distract you as you wind your way through the twisting halls.

You come to an abrupt halt as Laswell freezes, peering around her you see Valeria standing there, blood smeared on the short arming sword in her hand and on her clothes.

“I just killed one of the enemy,” she announces before either of you can question her. “Come, it’s safe this way,” she says, gesturing for you and Laswell to follow her.

“Where were you?” Laswell asks firmly, not moving and slowly edging you behind her. As you shift, you see her pulling a dagger from a belt sheath hidden at the small of her back. Frustration flicks quickly across Valeria’s features, darkening her eyes further as the Steward refuses to take the bait.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m here now,” she shrugs, and you notice the tightening of her grip on her sword. “Graves wants her, now give her to me.” She lunges forward, sword raised to stab into Laswell’s guts. Laswell reacts with incredible speed, hand lashing out and knocking the other woman’s wrist away as though she knew it was coming. She shoves you harshly to the side, bouncing you from the wall and sending you crashing to the ground with an undignified grunt. The two women grapple, Laswell slightly hindered by her skirts but still managing to overpower the smaller woman.

You clamber to you feet just as Valeria is struck with the pommel of Laswell’s dagger, knocking her out cold.

“Are you okay?” you ask, beginning to move towards her but something stops you dead in your tracks.

A wave of cold nausea makes you stagger, almost doubling over as it feels as though all the warmth in the air is sucked out by something. An unspeakable feeling of dread prickles your skin, and you want to curl up and hide, but something in your chest pushes back, a tiny spark of heat, that forces you to turn your head and look back down the corridor. It’s as though the torches shrink back, too afraid to burn as the dark figure steps around the corner.

“It’s Graves…” you hear Laswell whisper, the name too apt for the creature. He walks towards you, stepping over Valeria��s unconscious form and ignoring Laswell. Her eyes go wide as he ignores her, and she takes her chance to lunge with her blade at him as he moves past. A tendril of pure darkness and shadow slithers from beneath his cloak and cracks out like a whip, sending her reeling backwards into the wall with tremendous force, and she crumples to the ground. The tendrils grow in size and number, climbing the walls around him and spreading like twisted vines everywhere except where the torches burn on the walls.

“There you are darlin’, I’ve been looking for you,” he purrs, grinning to show those rows of inhumanly sharp teeth. His skin is the pallor of the undead, pulled tight over the bones beneath. You get the impression he was once handsome, but now he looks as he is, a shadow of a human. “You’ve got a little passenger in there, haven’t you?” He continues as he walks closer. “I can’t let you walk around with that.”

Simon’s words surface in your mind: run. You turn and sprint away from Graves, hearing his frustrated snarl as you do, and you try not to imagine the sight of him chasing behind you. In your terrified state you go the only way you know by heart from where you are, which is right towards the healer’s work rooms. If you’re lucky you can get there and bolt the door before he reaches you, that’s the only plan you have. Shouts and screams echo around you as you run, fighting guards and knights spilling through archways and doors.

Something screams in your head that the enemies are different, they move in a staggering walk, helmets covering their faces. One nearly knocks you over, tugging its axe from the skull of a downed guard and turns to you at the last moment. Its helmet has been lost and a rotted, eyeless face turns to you.

They’re dead already… an army of risen corpses at the command of The Shadow, Graves. You rush past the inhuman warrior, your speed redoubled in a bid to get away from that as well as the creature chasing you.

You make it to the healer’s rooms and throw open the door desperately before plunging inside. Graves is close behind you, his dead eyes meeting yours as you push the heavy door closed, but his shadows pin the door open as he approaches. Although it's futile you push against the door but there is no hope to close it.

You smash into the table, thrown back by the force of Graves ramming into the door, and you slide across the surface taking everything on the surface with you. Glassware shatters beneath you, cutting into your hands and knees as you land painfully. The brazier tumbles in a shower of sparks and burning coals, rolling across the flagstone floor, coming to rest against your skin. You blink, looking down at the still burning black lump, and then at a smash bottle of alcohol that still holds some of the volatile liquid.

“C’mon darlin’, let’s get this over with,” you hear Graves taunting you as he moves around the table.

You lift the coal in your hand, the skin hot but not burning, refusing to blister and blacken as it should. The liquid in your mouth irritates your nose, eyes watering and streaming from the burn of neat alcohol.

“What the..?” No…!” he shouts, thrusting a wall of darkness between you as you blow as hard as your lungs will let you. The spray ignites on the coal in your hand and a spray of fire blossoms from your lips, shredding the shadows and coating Graves. You keep blowing until your mouth and lungs are empty, but something shifts and lets go, leaving you in that same conflagration and ensnares the lich.

He screams and howls, twisting and writhing as the living flames devour him. A storm of fire fills the room, your clothes and hair whipping in a frenzy around you as you stand up, but only the undead creature burns. Slowly, in a daze, you step backwards, moving away from the lich as he curls in on himself, smoking and bubbling tendrils of shadow falling limp and twitching to the ground as they burn, and you edge towards the door. Wrenching your eyes from the horror you turn to the door and find Kyle, bloodied and stained, staring at you in disbelief.

“You still alive?” Kyle asks, eyebrows raised in concern. He holds out his hand, and you step through the flames on trembling legs until you grasp it, letting him pull you out of the fire yet again. He smells of coppery blood and sweat as you bury your face against his chest, ignoring the hardness of his chainmail against your skin, and focusing on the tightness of his arms around you as he pulls you tight against him.

The flames die down, leaving a congealed black mess on the floor by the hearth, but everything else is unburnt. As you glance over you swear you see something shining flutter away and up the flue.

“Come with me, let’s get you out of here,” he mutters into your hair and leads you away towards the main courtyard.

The main doors of the keep stand open, wounded and dying guards lie where they fell, and the crumpled corpses of Grave’s risen army are scattered between them. It seems Shepherd put his trust in the lich’s dead army and brought few living combatants with him, and now the Baron kneels on the ground before Price, blood leaking from a blow to his ribs. You see the other Simon and MacTavish behind him, coated in blood and gore, Farah and Alex nearby just as stained and bruised from battle.

As you near them, you hear Price and Shepherd speaking, the tip of Price’s sword pressed against the bald man’s throat.

“I am not going to beg for my life, not from you or anybody else,” the Baron wheezes, hand clutching at the gushing wound in his side, leaking through his fingers and onto the floor.

“Wouldn't do you any good,” Price replies. His eyes narrow slightly and he pushes his full weight behind the hilt of his weapon, sliding it into Shepherd’s neck with a crunching of cartilage. There’s a wet, strangled sound and you turn away until you hear the heavy thud of the man falling to the ground dead.

“It’s not over,” Price grunts. “Where’s Graves?”

“Dead, well, completely dead,” Kyle answers. “She disintegrated him.”

Farah catches your eye and nods at you, a small satisfied smile on her face.

“Then we owe you our thanks, healer,” Price says, wiping his blade on Shepherd’s cloak before sheathing it as his hip. aswell emerges from the keep looking pale and dazed, helped by Alejandro. Beside them, Rudy drags a bound Valeria, spitting curses and threats, her head still bleeding.

“I’m sorry, it was Valeria who opened the gates,” Alejandro snarls, ignoring the woman’s poisoned words. “She’s yours to do with as you see fit.”

“She goes to the cells, I’ll deal with her later,” Price sighs, shaking his head and he glares at Valeria. She struggles against Rudy’s grip, but you suspect it is for a show of defiance rather than any real intention to try and escape. If she broke free now, anyone in the immediate vicinity would gladly slice her in two.

The clean up is exhausting, so many dead, so many wounded. The rotting corpses left by Graves and Shepherd are carted away and burned, their ashes scattered into the sea to be swept away by Alejandro and his crew. The charred remains of The Shadow and likewise disposed of, the oily mark left on the floor scrubbed and scrubbed until it fades away from sight. Price has Shepherd’s remains removed by the priests and taken to be embalmed for his kin to retrieve, if they wish to do so. You work day and night, caring for those that can be saved.

Laswell makes a full recovery and her wife takes care of her.

It feels like days until you finally sit down and rest, body aching and mind about ready to unravel completely having not slept in a bed while tending to your patients. You make it back to your own chambers, feet dragging on the floor as you shuffle through the door and slump at the table. After rubbing your hands over your face you notice the bowl of apples before you, a smile creeping to your lips as you admire the shining red fruit.

“You’re not going to start throwing those again?” Kyle asks from the doorway, and you pick one up.

“I don’t think I have the energy to do it, even if I wanted to,” you smile over your shoulder at him. He shuts the door and walks over to you, gently taking your hand and pulling you up to stand with him, and carefully taking the apple from your hand and placing it on the table. You smirk as he does so.

“You’ve not had time to talk so I kept out of the way, but I wanted to say how proud I am of you. You saved a lot of people by taking on Graves like that,” he tells you, his face sombre.

“So you saved my life, and I was in your debt,” you say, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “But now I’ve saved lots of lives, so does that mean you owe me a debt now?” you grin despite your fatigue. His expression softens, and he smiles, pulling you against him by gripping the softness of your hips.

“I suppose that’s right,” he agrees. “So, I’m yours to do with you please.” His eyes linger on your lips for a moment, and arousal ignites in your tired body.

“I think, I think I’d like my knight to take me to bed,” you reply, and you see his pupils flare at your possessive choice of words.

“I am yours, but you are still mine,” he whispers, leaning down so his lips brush softly against your cheek.

“I think I can live with that,” you sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed as he presses a kiss to your neck. He does as you ask, with great care he guides you to your bed, slowly undressing the pair of you until you lie on the soft, clean sheets and he lies beside you. One rough hand glides over the swell of your stomach and cups one of your breasts, while he leans over and kisses your lips, kneading the plump mound and catching your nipple between his finger and thumb.

His kisses become more demanding, his hand roaming across your skin, caressing and squeezing whatever he can touch, and your heart pounds in response. Your tiredness ebbs away, replaced with a desperate need for closeness, to feel alive and most importantly, for him.

“Kyle, you need to fuck me,” you rasp out hoarsely, and him smirks, his cock already hard and leaving a wet trail as it rubs against your thigh.

“Do I?” he grins, voice low and deep, and you feel his chest rumble against you. “I’d better do as My Lady says.” Without preamble his shift between your thighs, spreading them wider than necessary so he can admire your glistening pussy. Watching your face and drinking in your expression, he sinks himself slowly into your aching heat, the stretch making your arch beneath him.

“Is that what you needed?” he groans, voice laced with gravel as you tighten around his length.

“Fuck, yes,” you trill back at him, clutching at his biceps as he holds himself above you. He draws back and fills you again, and again, each slap of skin against skin pulling a reedy moan from you. Your fingers curl and you nail dig at his skin, and your legs wrap around his lithe hips, urging him deeper inside.

“You want more?” he hisses into your ear, cradling your head between his forearms. You burble an incoherent agreement, and he tenses his arms against your shoulders before pounding into you mercilessly. It’s nearly impossible to breath as he pins you below him, fucking you with all his strength, and your pussy makes lewd, wet noises. You pull him harder with your legs, muscles tightening and your orgasm building much quicker than you’d anticipated. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge as every nerve sparks with pleasure, and your mind goes blank, registering only the feeling of being completely surrounded and filled by Kyle.

The tension crests, the pleasure peaks, and you wail as you come, clenching around his cock enough to make him moan and his hips stutter. Your gasp in greedy lungfuls of air, sweating blossoming on your skin and his, and he slows the motion of his hips to a lazy rolling. Once the waves ebb, his places a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Hmmm… that’s one,” he grins, dark eyes sparkling down at you.

“What d’you mean?” you whimper, aftershocks catching at you still as he grinds into you.

“I mean,” he mumbles against your lips, “we’ve only just started.”

—————————————————————

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bunnysdaydreams · 3 days

Text

Into the Fire

TF141 x f!reader

Part 5

Series Masterlist

TW: MDNI 18+, talk of violence, oral f!receiving, forced exhibitionism

Things become tense after Laswell’s announcement, and you do your level best to avoid getting in anyone’s way. Whoever Baron Shepherd is, he is clearly not good news and everyone is on edge as a result. The castle’s stockpiles of supplies are checked and rechecked, food, weapons and of course, healing supplies. It’s a sudden change of intensity that catches you off guard but you find Laswell is a great support despite the demands already on her.

You quickly learn to delegate, to find a few younger members of the household staff who are able to run tasks, fetching and organising, while you prepare for the unknown. Small accidents happen, a crushed finger here when moving barrels, a sliced hand there from the guards training, and you have things to keep you from dwelling too much on matters.

At night, however, your nightmares become a constant battle. The feeling of being watched, of something just out of the corner of your eye waiting for you, constant restlessness plagues you. It becomes normal to quickly cross over and down the hall, to knock softly on Kyle’s door and sleep wrapped in his protective embrace.

He never complains, never turns you away despite how exhausted he is from the increased training and drills the knights are expected to undertake. His hands are rough and calloused, splits on his knuckles and bruises from sparring, but his kisses are no less hungry than before. He makes you feel safe, and you repay him eagerly, as he settles into the space between your thighs.

His chambers echo in the dark of night to the sounds of your crescendo moans, his greedy words and praises, chasing away the things that lurk inside your dreams with a fire born of passion. Falling asleep, with the steady beating of his heart against your ear, comes naturally and without fear afterwards.

The day finally arrives when the Baron’s army nears, and Price sends a messenger to invite him to talks. You peer out of your workspace window overlooking the courtyard, gazing down at Price and the assembled knights on the steps the the main door of the keep. Armour shines in the afternoon light, weapons sheathed but ready. Laswell stands beside Price, her face etched with tired lines. It’s rumoured she hasn’t slept at all since her spies sent word of the invasion, constantly gathering information and moving her field agents to get any advantage possible.

Your eyes move over Price and the others. Kyle and MacTavish have long swords sheathed at their hips, but Simon, skull helm in place, has a monstrous montante, a double handed sword near as tall as he is, strapped to his back and a mace at his hip. Everything about him is designed to send the message that he can, and will, kill.

The gate opens slowly, clanking on the heavy chains used to pull the enormous things open, the sound jolting your attention towards them. The clatter of many hooves on the approach to the gate can be heard over the tense silence in the courtyard, and Shepherd rides through with a small number of his own knights. The bald Baron halts at the bottom of the steps, making no move to dismount. He wears full armour, clearly meant as a display of readiness, as do his other knights. One figure stands out, robed in black and their head covered by a cowl. The horse they ride skitters and shies beneath them, and something about the sight makes your stomach lurch.

“You have some balls, Shepherd,” Price says gruffly. “Take your troops and get out of my lands.”

“That won’t be happening, and you know it,” Shepherd retorts, openly looking over the assembled display of strength in the courtyard and deigning to look unimpressed. “I haven’t come all this way just to turn tail now.”

“Then I’ll have to cut it off,” Price sneers, just as unfazed.

“You forget, John,” Shepherd drawls, a mirthless smile crinkling the skin around his eyes, “I have The Shadow himself in my pocket now. If I bring him into play you won’t stand a chance. Your entire little domain would be wiped out. Is that what you want?” He lifts a hand and beckons forth cloaked rider, the horse’s bit flecked with foam and its eyes wide with distress.

“You brought that fucking lich into my lands, my castle?” Price roars, stabbing his fingers at the black cowled figure before taking a breath and regaining his composure. “You’re talking about murdering thousands of innocent people,” Price grits out between clenched teeth, his fists clenching as though resisting the urge to lash you here and now.

“Casualties of war, nothing more,” the bald man replies, leaning back in his saddle and smiling smugly. “It's your choice, submit to me or condemn your people,” his eyes are cold as he speaks, as though he wants Price to oppose him just to give him the excuse he wants to rain down horror and bloodshed. “You’ve got a week to get your affairs in order, and then I’m coming for you.”

Price steps forward, voice low and deadly.

“You wont get away with this,” he snarls. Shepherd looks around the courtyard at the assembled knights, his eyes catch yours through the window momentarily and your blood runs cold.

“I doubt it,” he says finally, and pulls his horse’s reins, leaving through the gate with his riders. The cowled figure turns his fretful horse slowly, the animal clearly distressed by the creature on its back, the figure’s head turning this way and that as if searching for something. A cold, creeping sensation slithers over your skin but it is quickly countered by a burning anger that isn’t yours.

He looks up at you, eyes looking into yours instantly, and the smile that spreads across his pale face reveals unnaturally sharp teeth before moving through the gate. When the echo of hooves dies down Price sighs deeply.

“Kate, we need all the help we can get,” Price says, pointing his finger at her. “Get me Alejandro, now.”

“Yes, My Lord,” she replies and turns on her heel, heading back inside the keep without waiting another moment. You turn from the window, heart racing at the bizarre encounter and hearing Farah's words: what has risen with you?

Two days later the Harbour Master, Nikolai, stands on the quay watching as a ship carefully negotiates the breakwaters at the mouth of the harbour, its sails snapping in the fresh breeze. You try to ignore the way MacTavish’s kilt does the same as he stands at the edge of the wall, one leg braced up on a iron bollard. Nik bellows instructions to the dockhands, his voice booming as it carries, having them ready to berth the vessel. You stand with Kyle, MacTavish and Alex, waiting for the ship. Laswell had told you they needed a healer after a crewman was injured on their way here, so you rode down with them.

“So these are friends of yours?” Alex asks Kyle casually. You've grown fond of Alex and his easy going manner.

“Yeah, Price helped Alejandro and Rudy out a few years ago. Since then Price allows them a certain amount of leeway with their activities in exchange for answering his call when needed.”

“Huh,” Alex grins under his moustache, “so he’s got pirates on the books? Smart move.”

“Price is always two steps ahead,” Kyle replies with pride, “that's why we’re here.”

The ship slowly pulls up alongside the quay, ropes thrown to the hands on the harbour wall, and a man stands on the railing holding onto the rigging and grinning.

“Hermano!” MacTavish calls out to the man on the ship, a huge grin splitting his face, and receives an equally enthusiastic welcome back. As soon as the ship is moored the gangplank is deployed and the smiling man jumps ashore, making his way to MacTavish with long, easy strides. He wears dark, loose fitting trousers tucked into sturdy boots, and a dark hide vest that leaves his muscular arms exposed. A belt with a short sword circles his hips.

“Es tan bueno verte de nuevo, hermano,” he says, gripping MacTavish’s wrist and pulling him against his chest briefly. He embraces Kyle just as fondly, before being introduced to Alex.

“I wish it was under better circumstances,” Kyle says, and the man nods somberly.

“Agreed, but you know we wouldn’t turn you away. We owe you a debt,” he says, and you snort softly at the mention of debts, drawing his attention inadvertently. He glances from you to the others, a smirk on his face.

“And who is this?” He takes your hand and bows, placing a quick kiss on your knuckles before anyone can say a word and your eyes dart to Kyle. His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say or do anything. Behind him, however, MacTavish covers his chortle with a cough.

“The bonnie lass is our new healer,” he explains, and pats Kyle on the shoulder roughly, “and Sir Kyle’s… eh… companion.”

Alejandro grins at you as he hears this, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Oh? Well in that case I am honoured to meet you,” he doubles down and kisses your knuckles again, clearly intent on getting a reaction from Kyle.

“Alejandro, stop drooling on her,” a woman’s voice calls out from the ship. Alejandro’s charming expression twists and sours as he hears her and he turns. A man and a woman descend the gangplank, both dressed in similar garb to Alejandro. The woman is shorter, her dark hair cut short and tattoos covering the exposed skin of her arms. Her hips swap as the saunters down the plank, a confident smile on her face.

“There ya are Rudy!” MacTavish calls the man with her, and he smiles and greets him warmly. He isn't as tell as Alejandro, but just as solid in build.

“This is Valeria, she joined a few months ago,” Alejandro explains, his voice carrying a level of distrust as he indicates the woman joining them.

“She’s the healer we asked Laswell for,” he explains, stepping back as she locks her eyes onto you. Valeria moves to your side and puts her arm around your shoulders, her hip pressed against yours as though greeting an old friend, and she begins to take you towards the gangplank.

“Cariña,” Valeria says sweetly, shooting a look over her shoulder at Alejandro, “come with me and let them catch up. I will take you to our crewman.” You cannot help but notice how his brow creases as he watches you leave with the woman, but her pull is insistent and you are soon making your way below deck with her. The air is dank and foetid below deck, and the only light comes from hanging lanterns suspended from the low beams.

You’re glad that Sir Alex follows you, as something about this woman makes you feel like a mouse staring at a smiling viper waiting for it to strike. You’re taken to a man lying in a hammock, his arm splinted and his face ashen and drawn.

“He took a bad fall from the rigging,” Valeria explains, standing close enough to you that her breath tickles the side of your neck. You try to focus on the injured sailor, but she doesn’t move back her eyes on you constantly.

“So, uh, how many crew are on this ship?” Alex interrupts, clearly seeing your discomfort and trying to draw Valeria’s attention away from you. She turns sharp eyes on him, a slight toss of her head as she does so, before answering him. Thankfully he keeps her talking, getting her to tell him about the crew and the cargo they’re carrying. His mind is clearly quick and sharp, knowing how to keep her occupied. With her focus diverted, you concentrate on the injured man, quickly, so you can leave.

You soon leave the ship and rejoin Kyle who is still talking with Alejandro, moving beside him to distance yourself from Valeria, and Alex takes position on the other side of you.

“Come to the keep this evening, Price wants to have you at his table,” Kyle says with a final shake of hands.

“We will be there,” Alejandro accepts, and you follow the other to the horses to ride back up the hill to the castle.

“Are you okay?” Kyle asks as you ride beside him, finally having been given a horse of your own.

“I’m fine, just got an odd feeling from that woman,” you reply, trying to give him a smile and failing.

“Look, we’re heading to the training grounds to meeting with Simon. Do you want to come with us?” Kyle asks softly. He doesn’t demand you go with him as he might have done before, but you can tell it’s what he’d rather you did. To be honest, it’s exactly what you want right now.

“Please,” you nod. “If that’s okay?”

“It is,” he says and you hear his relief. You ride with the knights around the side of the curtain wall to a large grassy area where archery butts and other equipment is set up. You quickly spot Simon, larger than anyone else by a head, giving instructions to younger knights as they practice. Steel flashes and glints in the bright sunlight as they cut and parry, and you panic. They’re only wearing padded clothing and steel helmets.

“Aren’t they going to kill each other? They’re barely wearing any armour,” you observe, watching as one young man catches his opponent on the arm. You tense, waiting for it to slice through the padded gambeson.

“Those are just feders, training swords,” Kyle explains with a grin. “They’re completely blunt, but still leave a bitch of a mark behind.” He winces as though from recent memory. The young knight twists with the impact of the blow but just shakes his arm and carries on.

“That’s still going to bruise him,” you mutter, earning a chuckle from MacTavish.

“Builds character, cannae take soft bairns into battle,” he grins, before shrugging out of his shirt and your eyebrows raise when he stands there in just his kilt and boots. They all do the same, and heat creeps up your neck and face as you realise this is how they practice, without any padding or protection.

You sit and watch once Simon joins them, as the four men begin their own training, simple drills to begin with cycling through a series of cuts with their own blunted swords. Swords raised then swept down as they cut through the air and then again in another direction for several minutes. Then they pair up and begin to spar, muscles bunching and shifting as they dodge, deflect and counter with dizzying speed. Sweat beads and runs down their skin, the sun blazing down onto them and adding to their exertion.

They stop after a few hours, and walk with you safely in their midst back to the safety of the castle.

“Can you use a sword?” Simon asks you thoughtfully.

“No, but I can shoot a bow well enough to hunt with,” you offer hopefully. He nods, lips tight as if this is barely enough in his eyes.

“Better than nothing I guess,” Kyle sighs, he looks concerned at the idea of you fighting at all.

“Your best defence is always to run, no matter what weapons you have to hand though,” Simon continues, his dark eyes serious in his scarred face. “If anyone, or anything, comes after you, just run.” The way he says ‘anything’ makes you uncomfortable.

“I will keep that in mind,” you say, trying to hide the tremble in your voice. It’s cooler inside the granite walls of the keep and you let Kyle guide you down the stairs behind the others, soon recognising you are heading towards the bathhouse. The men discuss their training, but Kyle is quiet, his jaw tight as you glance at him and you turn to ask what’s bothering him just as you reach the door where Laswell had guided you on your first day here, which stands open.

Kyle pulls you through the open door slamming it closed behind you in the startled faces of the others. Before you can breathe another breath he presses you against the solid wood with a kiss.

“Pulled a favour with Laswell,” he murmurs against your lips. Dropping his shirt and unfastening the laces of your bodice as his tongue delves into your mouth. In a few moments he has you naked and pinned to the door, the warm air of the bath house ghosting across your skin.

His mouth is hot and wet against your skin, leaving kisses and small bites in its wake as he moves down, kneeling before you and lifting one of your plush thighs over his shoulder. You know his destination, and a shudder runs through you in anticipation, the excitement pooling in your cunt.

“I saw you looking at the others,” he growls between kisses. “Just need you to remember who you owe your life to.”

The first flick of his tongue against your throbbing clit nearly has you falling on top of him, if it weren’t for the grip he has on your hips and his strength supporting your thigh on his shoulder. Voices echo from the other room, and you suddenly flush realising that they will hear you if you make too much noise.

His tongue moves languidly against your clit, your thighs trembling as he draws out the delicious friction against it. Soft moans and gasps fall from your lips, and you fight to keep quiet. He pulls away, and you stifle a needy whine as you look down at him. His mouth glistens and his dark eyes burn up at you.

“You’re gonna let them hear you when you come,” he says, steel in his tone. “So they know you’re mine.”

A thick finger slides too easily inside you, your body already begging to be filled by him in any way it can be, and you feel the groan he makes against your clit. You clench around his finger, already dangerously high on arousal, and whimper unapologetically when he sucks on your engorged clit. His finger moves in and out of you, timed perfectly with his licks and sucks.

But it is the addition of this second finger that makes your knees weak and breaks your silence. He pumps them into you, refusing to rush you to your end, your harsh breathing echoing around the daft stones of the bathhouse. All you can hear is the rushing of blood in your ears and your own groans as he fucks you with his hand, tongue circling and teasing your clit.

You can’t help but moan his name, riding the pleasure higher and higher until you cannot contain it any longer. With a sharp cry you come on his fingers, desperate whimpers following as you ride out the spasm while he works you through your orgasm.

“That’s my girl,” he purrs, lowering your leg and helping you into the soothing water of the tub. He quickly joins you and holds you to his chest as you float in the heady afterglow of your orgasm. The two of your take time to enjoy the warmth of the water together, sharing kisses and gentle touches before the chill of the cooling bath forces you to wash and get out.

Later, the household gather in the main hall for the evening meal. Price welcomes Alejandro and Rudy, but Valeria is noticeably absent. For that, you feel distinctly grateful, not wanting to be near her any longer than necessary.

“This is wonderful,” Rudy says in awe as he looks over the food heaped on the long table. “We’ve had too many days of dried meat out at sea. You eat like kings here on land.” Alejandro rolls his eyes at him with a smile.

“Price keeps us well fed,” Simon agrees, tearing into a piece of beef on the table before him.

“Aye, Kyle had plenty to eat earlier,” MacTavish winks at you, “but the lass needs to regain her strength.”

Laughter erupts around the table, Kyle punching the Highlander’s arm without malice. But the moment is cut short as a blast of a horn sounds through the castle, smiles freezing instantly.

“What’s going on?” Simon bellows, standing up so urgently his chair clatters to the flagstones. A guard rushes to respond, his face a mask of horror.

“The gates have been opened! We don’t know how, but Shepherd’s men are in the courtyard!”

-----------------------------------------------------

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bunnysdaydreams · 3 days

Text

Into the Fire

TF141 x f!reader

Part 4

Series Masterlist

TW: MDNI 18+, enemies to lovers, p in v, hint of threat, plot

It doesn’t take long for Laswell to get you situated in the previous healer’s workspace, a series of rooms with a view down into the courtyard of the keep. From the large window you have a clear view of the main doors to the keep and the enormous gate and portcullis. The main room is spacious and given over to a collection of shelves and cabinets containing ingredients for tonics and cures, salves and tinctures, and more books on medicine than you ever thought existed. A large table in the middle of the room holds a mind boggling area of vessels, bowls and utensils for brewing, distilling and mixing. The middle of which is dominated by an ornate iron brazier to heat the mixtures.

It’s clear that the previous healer knew his craft well, and the written notes he left behind him is an entire library in itself that you look forward to devouring. Once you begin delving through the manuscripts, reading his crabbed handwritten notes, you lose track of time and spend hours sat beside the fireplace.

Eventually your neck and shoulders begin to ache, forcing you to sit up and you see the sun has long set, shadows filling the corners of the room and twisting as the flames from the fireplace move. No lamps or candles are lit, feeding the darkness. Something cold creeps down your spine as you watch the shadows, feeling as though they are reaching out towards you, your heart racing.

The door slams open and you scream, dropping the book to the floor, and Kyle storms in, his face dark as thunder. He still wearing his knee length riding boots over his breeches, his shirt crumpled from being under his gambeson from training with the other knights. You'd snuck out of your chambers when he'd left the castle that morning, and planned to return before he found out you'd gone. So much for that now.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Laswell finally gave in and told me this is where you’ve been hiding,” he scolds you and grabs your arm roughly, dragging you from the chair and out the door.

“Let go of me!” you yell, pulling against his hold, but you’d do better pulling at the stones of the castle itself, his grip is solid.

“No, you’re coming back to your room. Now,” he snaps. He drags you, kicking and protesting back to your chambers, pushing you roughly inside before following you in and slamming the door. “You don’t just disappear without telling me where you’re going, understand?”

Fury rages inside you at his attitude, and something snaps.

“Fuck you,” you snarl, stepping behind the table in the middle of your room. A heavy earthenware bowl of shining, red apples sits neatly on top. You grab an apple from the bowl and hurl it at Kyle’s head, narrowly missing him as he ducks and turns to see the fruit smash against the wall behind him with the force used. He snaps his head back to you, eyes narrowed and jaw clenched.

“Don’t,�� he growls, raising a single finger to you. You reach down and grab another apple, preparing to throw, ignoring him completely. “Don’t, or you’ll regret it,” he warns, finger raised still.

“Like I regret you pulling me from the fire?” you hiss and launch the second apple. He dodges it again and it thwacks against the door with a wet sound.

“Fucking wench! Stop it!” Kyle shouts, teeth bared in anger.

“No! I’m done taking orders from you!” you cry, hating the brittle edge in your voice. You scoop up the remaining few apples in your arm and launch them one after one at him, and he dodges all but the last one which thumps into his shoulder, making him curse. Out of ammunition you turn on the spot and look for something else to throw, chest heaving as you fight for breath. You settle on picking up the earthenware bowl.

“Now hang on a moment!” he snaps, a genuine hint of concern creeping into his voice now as you heft the bowl over your head with both hands.

“No! No I won’t!” You yell at him, and he holds out one hand as if to calm a spooked horse, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips at the absurd sight before him. How dare he find this funny? You want to smash the bowl over his head even more now and heft it in your grip as it slips.

“Okay, okay… so you wanna play rough?” He edges around the table and you can’t help but circle the other way, trying to keep the solid wood between you. “I can play rough too.” His grin returns along with a fire in his eyes, and with a burst of speed he tackles you low around your waist, sending you sprawling on the sheepskin on the floor beside the bed. He cups the back of your head, preventing you from hurting yourself, but his full weight crushes you for a moment as you both land. The bowl bounces against the curling fleece with a dull thud, and cracks in two.

“Get off!” you try to yell, but it comes out as a wheeze without enough air behind it until he rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him. “Let go!” you demand and try to pull free of his grasp, kicking at the ground and pushing your palms against his chest. His hold is like being wrapped by iron bars, your struggles tiring you out slowly, but the grin on his face fuels your anger. Without warning his palm grasps the back of your neck once again and he pulls you to his mouth, kissing you. You freeze.

“Huh, not so fiery now?” he smirks.

Your mouth crashes against his, taking him by surprise this time but he recovers almost instantly. The moment he returns the kiss, everything inside you unravels, your fear, uncertainty and anger pour into something new and intense that you’ve never felt before. Your insides burn with need, blood roaring through your veins as you tug and pull at Kyle’s shirt, he assists you by ripping the fabric and letting it fall open either side of him. Your hands roam across his hard chest, grasping and exploring his hard planes feverishly.

Your clothes fare better, his frantic hands pull at your bodice, lifting it over your head so you can open the front of your smock. Kyle forces his rough, calloused hands inside the material and pulls it down your shoulders to expose your breasts before palming them both, squeezing and kneading the soft swells.

Desperation consumes you, the feel of his calloused hands groping the delicate skin of your tits drives your need, so when you feel hardening, engorged length pressed against your groin you grind against it.

“Oh, fuck,” he sighs against your lips, and you do it again, relishing the tiny moans he makes.

“Kyle,” you whisper, pressing your forehead against his, “please, I…. I need you.”

He kisses you again, then nods, his eyes dark and filled with a need of his own. If you looked too long into his eyes you’d be lost, consumed by him entirely. With a sense of loss you lift your hips from his and he quickly unfastens his belt and pushes down his breeches, just far enough to let his cock spring free before shoving your skirt up hastily, pulling your clothed cunt down against his length by gripping your thighs. Both of you groan as you automatically grind yourself against him, underclothes soaking up your arousal and his precum. Your clit nudges against the head of his cock, each movement sending a jolt through your muscles, drawing needy little gasps from your throat.

It’s not enough though, not enough by far, your bottom lip throbbing as you feel his teeth bite into it. You’re the one that reaches beneath you and pulls the thin material of your under garment aside, letting your flushed skin touch his. The groan that erupts from his chests when your folds slide against him while you grind your hips is sinful.

It’s hard to keep moving at a steady pace, your hips stuttering as the pleasure swirls and mounts. You pull your hips forward sharply and the swollen head of his cock catches at your weeping entrance, and you let it rest there, gently rocking your hips and letting it notch against you.

“What are you doing you little minx?” he grits out when you stall, feeling your body threatening to take him in but not going any further.

“I’m thinking…” you muse breathlessly, and this time it is you who grins.

“Seriously? You’d tease me with this? Right now?” he snaps, an edge of desperation to his voice.

“Are you going to stop being a dick to me?” you ask archly, seeing an opportunity before you.

“You wicked…” he begins to say and you lift your hips a tiny amount, he grips you in a panic. “Yes, okay,” he chuckles, and a smile crosses his face that makes your walls clench around the emptiness within you. Slowly you lean forward, kissing him deeply, and he lifts his length up letting you push back against it.

You cry out weakly as you press down onto him, feeling the stretching of your heated flesh around him, little jerks of his hips showing his desperation to feel you engulf him entirely. He swallows your cries, his kisses feverish and hungry as you split open around his cock until your hips meet. Sweat sparkles in tiny droplets on his brow when you pull back slightly to look down at him.

“You okay?” he rasps, voice hoarse and tight, the deepness emphasized by his passion. You nod once, and you feel his length twitch inside you, the feel of your heart beating echoed where you’re joined. Placing your palms on his chest you shift your hips, feeling the hardness of him inside your softness, making you soft breathe heavily.

You ride him, your skirts bunched around your waist and his hands kneading your hips and thighs, gripping tightly as though fearful you’ll disappear. The sensation of him moving and sliding within you has your body drooling down his length, his clothes surely drenched.

“That’s perfect, oh gods…” he groans, and lifts himself up to rest on one elbow so he can take one of your nipples into his mouth. As he sucks the bud between his lips your walls clench around him, making your hips jerk and a soft cry fall from your lips.

“Kyle,” you gasp, the edges of your orgasm constricting within you, tightening and amplifying every spark of your nerves.

“That’s it,” he pants, lying back down against the sheepskin, thrusting his hips upwards and filling you with every inch of him. “That’s it, let me feel it,” he mutters, softly chanting your name like a prayer as your muscles seem to solidify, robbing you of air as your spine arches sharply.

With a sharp wail your orgasm rushes through you, burning hot through your veins and for a moment your vision and hear abandon you leaving you only with the awareness of your body and Kyle’s. A few more sharp thrusts has him spilling himself into you, hot, thick ropes filling you up and mixing with your own juices.

Slowly your breathing returns to normal, eyes still closed and you feel yourself draped over his chest, his heart pounding just as hard as yours as your cheek rests on his shoulder. With great care he slips his hands around your back, spreading his fingers wide to cover as much skin as possible and holds you against him, his slowly softening cock still lodging inside you. Neither of you speak or move, relishing the blissful moment.

“Hey,” he says softly, “look at me, please?” The politeness of the request has you looking at him with a grin, and he chuckles at your expression.

“I guess I owe you an apology,” he concedes.

“You guess?”

“Don’t push your luck,” he shakes his head but his expression is still soft. “But yes, I am sorry, there’s just something about you that turns everything I know on its head.” His hands gently run up and down your spine, over your soft skin.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, not since I pulled you from the fire,” he admits. “It's intense, like nothing I’ve ever felt before and my chest hurts when I don’t know where you are. It started before I even knew you existed.”

“What do you mean?” you ask.

“We weren’t meant to be anywhere near your village, but whatever way we turned something blocked the path and kept steering us. We all felt it, something forcing us down that road,” he says softly, his fingers carding slowly through your hair, prickling your scalp. “I don’t even know how I came to find you, all I know is the second that I saw you there, getting you out was as important to me as breathing. More important even. Every night since then, I keep feeling… my dreams are…” he shakes his head, a frown creasing his brow as he fights to find the right words. “Whatever brought me to you is trying to tell me to protect you, keep you safe by any means necessary.”

“You need to trust me though,” you tell him. “I’m all for being wary of what fate hands you, but I’m just a normal person.” You run your hand slowly down his cheek, feeling the slight bite of stubble on his cheek and jaw, before he turns his face and kisses your palm.

“I just feel like if I’m not watching you every second something is going to happen,” he admits, his eyes looking into yours deeply, telling you how serious he feels.

“Whatever it is, let’s find out what’s going on together,” you declare gently, leaning down and kissing him again. After a while he finally slips out of you, and once cleaned up and dressed the two of you head to the main hall. Now when you walk, he rests his arm around your shoulder tenderly.

“Commander, would you tell me more about what you said the other night?” you ask her, and she gestures for you to sit in the chair beside her. Alex looks between the two of you before Kyle nods to him to leave the pair of you be.

“About the phoenix?” Farah says, her dark eyes boring into you intensely. “Of course, what did you want to know?”

Your pause for a moment, twisting the fabric of your skirt between your fingers as you try to formulate your question.

“Since the fire I’ve felt like there’s something… following me,” you admit quietly. “Like there’s something in the shadows, its never been there before.”

Farah’s eyes narrow as she listens to you, her head tilted slightly.

“Is this just in your dreams, or when you are awake as well?” she asks.

“Both,” you shrug, and you look over at Kyle. He is standing with Simon, Alex and MacTavish listening to something Price is telling them out of your earshot. “He feels it too. I wondered if you knew anything about this.”

Farah leans forward, her dark, almond eyes intense.

“You were saved by the gods, but at a cost. What that will be is up to them, but it sounds as if they have already chosen,” she says quietly, her voice filled with concern. "A phoenix dies in the flames, and something else rises from the ashes. The question is what has risen with you?"

You go to ask her more but a commotion erupts at the other end of the hall as Laswell enters at speed. She heads towards Price but stops at the head of the huge table. She looks tired, deep shadows under her eyes as she leans onto her hands on the edge of the table to catch her breath. A silence settles over the room as her break in composure catches everyone’s attention.

“Kate?” Price asks, stepping away from the others. “What is it?”

She lets a heavy breath go, stealing herself, the silence around the room makes it clearly audible.

“I just received a dispatch from one of my field agents, Baron Shepherd is coming.” A muttering of consternation and anger fills the room. “I’m sorry John, he’ll be here with his army in a few days,” Laswell says, her voice cracking. “He means to invade.”

------------------------------------------------------

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bunnysdaydreams · 4 days

Text

vegetable patch (pt.2)

hybrid!simon 'ghost' riley & hybrid!john 'soap' mactavish

cw: hybrid!au, guard dog!simon, guard dog!john, bunny!reader, pregnancy/breeding, oral sex (femme & masc receiving), threesome, outdoor sex, cum eating (brief), exhibitionism

bunny says: there might be a part 3 (if you play your cards right)

read pt. 1

being the bunny on the farm was… different. farmer price only had guard dogs, but he never had a bunny. especially a pregnant bunny. he did the awkward task of making you take a pregnancy test after simon bred you amongst the lettuce. which involved simon squishing on your middle until you peed on the test. it was embarrassing, but it got the results the farmer needed.

you were pregnant with puppies. or bunnies. or puppy-bunnies. farmer price wasn't too sure. he never EXPECTED to look into how hybrids breed when he bought two MALE dogs. it was just one of them got into a wild bunny. but price was a bleeding heart and couldn't send you back into the woods. you'd be too vulnerable. so as your belly got a bit of baby fat, he made sure you were taken care of.

but you were still a wild animal.

“hey, hey! bunny relax!” farmer price had you in his arms as you kicked at john. you had a scowl on your face at the other guard dog, soap as he was called. price held you in his arms so you'd stop kicking his other dog in the face. he practically held you with your arms above your head and slightly above the ground, “relax, baby girl. relax. soap's not gonna hurt ya.”

you frowned, “i want simon.” you struggled against the farmer.

price sighed, “then stop kickin', put your legs down, sweetheart. you're too pregnant to be doin' this.” he hushed you and then slowly put you down once you were relaxed enough to not cause problems. you sat on the ground, your ears close to your head. or as price called them ‘airplane ears’.

john came closer and you furrowed your brow, he reached out for you and petted your face. you winced, you had to protect your children. you didn't need another mutt invading your pussy. he let out a small noise as he got closer to you. you whined and price sighed.

“alright.” the farmer said, “i'll see what simon is doing.” he left you alone with the other guard out the back door.

you and john looked at one another. his blue eyes seemed to gaze through you to your very soul. his ears were flat against his head as he sat down across from you. he licked his lips, “why won't you let me fuck you?”

you frowned, “i'm not a whore.”

he chuckled, “well you whoring yourself out let you into my home. i know simon adores you, but i have my eye on you bunny.” he got a little closer, “i want to know what makes you so special.” you held your gaze with him. he smirked, “simon liked something about you and i want to know what he liked about you. bunnies give it away for free so, why are you hiding?”

you whimpered and before john could do anything, simon was hauled back into the house. the large guard dog saw how close you were with john and instantly was to your side. he threw an arm over you as he gazed at his pack brother, “what are ya lookin' at?”

the farmer looked at the three of you. two guard dogs, and a pregnant bunny. quite a mix. he sighed and walked away, he had a farm to tend to. he couldn't deal with the affairs of his hybrids, he'd go even more grey if he thought about it too hard.

“she carryin' my pups, johnny. why are ya sniffin' around?” simon asked.

john smiled, “you never wanted a mate, but here you are with this little bunny.” he tilted his head to the side, “i want to know what makes her so… enticing."

simon got closer to his pack brother and looked in his eyes, “i got a bunny pregnant, i ain't abandoning her.”

john got close into simon's personal space, “then let me have a taste. as your pack brother, through thick and thin.” he licked his lips, “we won't be sharin' pups anyway.” he looked to you, “will the bunny give me a taste?”

you frowned, "shut up, john." you stuck your tongue out at the other man and simon pulled you close. he tucked your head into his chest, you held onto the t-shirt he wore. you noticeably relaxed.

"i don't think you'd know how to even fuck a bunny." simon said as he looked down at you then to his pack brother.

john narrowed his eyes, "i know a fair bit, you don't know what i was up to before i ended up here."

simon lifted your chin, "maybe we have to do a little bondin' or else price is goin' have our heads."

you looked up at your mate, "and if he gets too aggressive."

"then his throat will go between my incisors."

your ears twitched a little at the sound of john's laugh as he got closer. he reached out for you. soon you were in both men's arms. your belly kept you from being too close to simon but your plump ass was right up against john's cock.

"what do you say, bunny?"

you looked to both men and sighed, "you're lucky my hormones are out of wack, soap." you made a noise as you were pulled into john's arms.

he rested his chin on your shoulder and smiled at simon, "maybe if i'm lucky, the next pups will be mine." but his ears when back and he stepped off when simon got closer.

"in your dreams, johnny."

price had a thing about the hybrids of the house having sex in common areas. he had already caught you and simon giving each other pleasure over the kitchen island. he has seen more than enough of your pregnant belly. he didn't need to see anymore.

the farmer had promised himself that after you had simon's pups then he'd get you one some kind of birth control. he didn't need more hybrids in the house. it was bad enough you were pregnant with another one.

he had left for the day to go into town to go to the store and do other affairs. which left you and the two guard dogs alone. this was when your plan went into action.

on the warm porch you were rested up against simon, the man's strong arms held you close and john was between your legs. ears flat to his head as he lapped at your cunt like the dog he was.

you whimpered, it was hard to see him over the slope of your belly, but you could feel his ears and head up against your taunt skin. your pups shifted in your belly and you held onto your lover.

"you're not too bad, johnny."

"i told ya i knew what i was doin'. you just didn't trust me, didn't ya?" john chuckled as he held your thighs open, his blunt nails dug into the muscle of your thighs. the skin was soft and he found it so alluring.

he had no idea someone like you was living in those woods. part of him wished that he was patrolling the farm that day. then maybe you'd be having his pups. but hey, there was always next time.

you squirmed a little and simon held you firmly. he said in your ear, "careful now." then looked back to his pack brother and added, "you can go a little faster, bunnies fuck quick to avoid predators."

you frowned and kicked your legs out a little as you felt his licks become quickly. you let go of your lover and grabbed his hair. you made an 'eep' noise and closed your legs around his head.

the softness of your skin around his head almost made him cum in his shorts. soon his hands were on your large belly. he said something but was muffled. his hands roamed the skin and you felt pleasure flutter in your stomach.

simon held you down on the porch and pulled his cock out of his sweat shorts. he tilted your head back so he could have easy access to your throat. soon you were giving pleasure to simon while john was pleasuring you.

three hybrids on the porch on a summer's day fucking the way their nature intended. your moaned loudly but was muffled by simon's cock in your mouth. you held onto your belly over top of john's hands.

your eyes went wide when you heard a yapping from the fence. the three of you looked over, simon's cock still in your mouth. you all saw a coyote hybrid with light brown hair and piercing blue eyes.

both guard dogs got closer to you, folding you into yourself, which was made hard by the bump. simon kept eye contact with the man and hunched over you while he held onto your jaw.

if your hunches were right, you knew that coyote. the knowledge made a flash of embarrassment flow through you, but you couldn't wiggle out of their grasp. you made a sharp noise as you felt john's tongue graze across your clit.

he chuckled and simon pushed his cock further into your mouth. you were a whorish display for phillip graves. you looked away but simon turned your head to face the coyote. the guard dogs were showing that they had staked claim on your little bunny pussy.

and you hated you kind of liked it.

graves made a face before he turned around and headed back into the woods. he wasn't going after the chickens today.

john pulled away from your thighs and looked up at you and simon. he beamed, "i don't think that fuckin' dog is comin' back." he sat up on his knees and leaned back on his heels. he wiped the wetness from his face, "good thing too."

simon was continuing to rock his cock and out of you, his grip had loosened on your jaw. he looked to his pack brother and said, "yeah, hate to scare the bunny."

john chuckled and patted your swollen middle, "still mad at me, bonnie?"

you looked at him and tried to shake your head in a no, but it hard to with your lover's cock in your throat. your eyes did go wide however when john pulled his cock out of his threadbare shorts and rubbed it up against your soaked cunt.

soon you were being fucked by both men from two different angles. simon was in your throat while john was in your cervix. you were caught between them.

"how ya feelin' mama." simon asked as he looked down at you. those dark eyes gazed into yours.

you reached for his arms and held onto them as you gazed up at him as you took his cock out of your mouth, "never been better." then gave him a smile. your nipples were hard in the afternoon air as you were rocked back and forth between both men.

simon slipped his cock back into your mouth and continued to seek pleasure from your mouth. the sex wasn't what you expected from two guard dogs, you expected it to like you first time with simon.

but both were gentle as they could be. it made your heart swell a little. it was endearing that they were treating you so nicely, even if their large cocks seemed like they were meeting in your intestines.

you felt the pleasure come over you, your heightened hormones made orgasm come quickly. made john wasn't a bad fuck after all. simon could be possessive, but mostly towards those outside the house. he seemed to be fine with john fucking you.

you moaned around your lover's cock as you felt drunk off the intense feeling. it wasn't long before you kicked out your legs and you tightened around both men's cocks. you tensed up before you relaxed with a loud moan.

simon held your face while john held your hips. both men started to move a little faster, they were going to climax as well. they both looked at one another with pleasure in their eyes. simon gave a curt nod and john gave a more enthusiastic one in return.

you looked like a dream, a pregnant little bunny allowing herself to be fucked on the porch of her new home. the men wondered if any other hybrids would come by before they finished.

but their wish wasn't fulfilled because both men soon pulled with and stroked their cocks over your naked, pregnant body. within moments of one another, both men came all over your body.

you whimpered at the feeling of their hot seed across your face and belly. john even chuckled and picked up some of it off your chest and fed it to you.

"dirty bunny." he snickered.

"be nice, johnny. or you're not gettin' her again."

john exhaled contently, "i get why you got to keep her." he looked at your wet pussy and then back at simon, "i guess bunnies fuck better."

"yeah get 'em pregnant and they'll stay out of the garden."

john started to stroke his cock to get it hard once more. he spoke like you weren't even in front of him. he said to simon, "you take her pussy and i'll take her throat?"

simon took a quick look at you before he looked back to john, "sounds like a plan." he then looked back at you, "hands and knees, doll. i want to see that cottontail shake." <3

xoxo, bunny

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bunnysdaydreams · 4 days

Text

teeny tiny mention of miscarriage and injuries, fluffy fluff

Simon bumps into you, a troubled woman whose boyfriend kicked her out after he found out she's pregnant

His eyes sparkle with utter adoration, locked on her adorable chubby face as she babbles and thrashes her arms around.

He cradles your baby against his chest and softly coos into her ear, slowly lulling her to sleep as you rest after you got back home from the hospital despite your insisting that you can take care of her while he rests, not straining his shoulder too much.

But he persisted that you still need time to heal, and he's right, physically and mentally after what happened to you and the near loss of your child.

The image of you holding your baby while shedding tears of pure joy replays in his mind and before he knows it, his own tears start to run down his cheeks.

He feels overwhelmed by all the emotions coursing through him, the love he feels for both of you engulfing his whole being.

And he promises that he will love her as his own child.

He gently lowers her tiny form in the crib and tucks her in, whispering ‘good night’ to her.

He makes his way to the bed where you’re sleeping, or so he thinks.

He sits on the edge of the bed and softly caresses your cheek with the pad of his fingers.

“I love you.” he murmurs quietly. It took all his might to keep his feelings hidden all this time. And he finally feels the leaden weight of the words lift off his heart.

A loving smile forms on your lips and you open your eyes, slowly turning to him.

“I love you too, Simon.” you respond, your voice so tender as a soft caress, making a sense of relief wash over him.

You sit up on the bed and cup his face in your hand, gazing into each other’s eyes with the new blooming emotion between you.

He slowly leans in, waiting for you to make the final move and you don’t hesitate to lock your lips together, kissing him ardently while all the love and devotion you feel for one another radiating off you, your souls dancing together as you embrace each other.

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bunnysdaydreams · 4 days

Note

Hello! So not a request but a Dahlia thought: when getting to the boys place she's a little anxious but then she sees the perfectly set up spare room they just happen to coincidently have set up perfectly. And it's so comfortable and peaceful after a shit day and a equally shittier couple of months that reader just kind of releases the damn of tears. Which you know just inforcess that they are doing the right thing by taking her. It's for her own good.

PART 1 • PART 2 • PART 3 tags: simon x f!reader x johnny. alluded abuse (not by ghoap). kidnapping (but is it really kidnapping anymore?) pregnancy.

Their home is nice.

You don't know what you expected. Nothing bad, certainly – one look at their car and you guessed they were comfortable – but whatever approximation you rendered in your head didn’t come close to hitting the mark. Perhaps it was the remnants of your misgivings, then, that convinced you they lived in some squalid house off the side of the freeway. No one is kind enough to offer free room and board without there being some sort of catch.

But it's nice. Spacious. Secluded, though not to a concerning degree. You pass through a quaint town in order to get to it, and it's only another two miles out, tucked on the outskirts of a neighbouring forest. A two-story chalet, understated and painted dark to deliberately sink into its surroundings. If you had to guess, it was the pick of the one in the mask; the style suits him more than the other one, you think. Elevated inches off the ground. Weathered cedar exterior, softened by time, and a modest front porch with three Adirondack chairs positioned around a bonfire pit.

“Did someone else live here with you?” You ask, tucking your thumb into your bag strap as you follow them to the front door. The shorter of them throws a look over his shoulder, brows furrowed in an endearing way. “I just ask because– well, you mentioned a spare bedroom, and there are three seats out here. So…”

“Johnny’s mum stayed with us for a while after his father passed.” The masked one says, unlocking the entrance before pulling it open for you. Your heart twinges uncomfortably in your chest, and you give a sad smile to ‘Johnny’ on your way in.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

He appears astounded for a second, gaze flickering back and forth between you and his partner, before settling in place. “Ah, dinnae be. Wis a long time ago.”

You’re pleased to find that the interior is a lot brighter. Where the outside boasted a dark green paint job, the inside glows in a smattering of honeyed wood and sage tones. All open-plan; you can see the dining table and kitchen from where you step into the living room, brown leather couches serving as the only divisors of the space. You allow your eyes to rove over the walls, the plush carpets underfoot, up and over to where the lofted second-story overlooks the bottom floor. Large picture windows allow ample light to flood in, yet it seems to have the particularly concerning effect of illuminating how… empty it all is. Because apart from a strew of personal belongings – boots by the foyer, a half-filled water bottle on the breakfast bar, a coat thrown over the back of an armchair – there’s nothing to indicate that they actually live here.

For all you know, they could’ve rented the car and the house to lure you in.

A pit opens up in your stomach. You pat your pocket for your phone, then turn to where they await your reaction.

“I didn’t catch your names.” You ask, cringing internally at how straightforward you seem. You have to remind yourself that it’s better to be blunt, to scope this situation out before you’re in too deep. If it takes playing oblivious, then so be it. “I’m embarrassed I don’t know. You’re being so kind, after all.”

“Johnny. John Mactavish, if ye wanna be proper.” The Scotsman beams, stepping forward to take your bag off your hands, that which you tentatively. The other one merely stays still, peering out on you from above his fabric mask. You shift from foot to foot, waiting.

Eventually, he blinks. “Ghost.”

The pit deepens. You breathe through the nausea climbing up your chest. That’s not a name, you’re tempted to say. Tempted to take your bag back over your shoulder and call a cab. But it’s so early in the morning that you know you’ll have a hard time reaching one. And even if you manage, where would you go? Certainly not home.

The callous echo of your ex’s voice still bounces around in your skull. It’s just a matter of probability. Risk it here with these perfect strangers, who may or may not be ill-intentioned. Or risk it back home, with a man you know only means to do you harm.

So, you give them your name.

(Just the first. Though that isn’t without its precautions, either; later, when you finally tuck in, you’ll be sure to send your location and the name Mactavish off to a trusted friend.)

Johnny’s grin widens, something warm and molasses-thick radiating from the lines it carves into his cheeks. It’s so genuine, so welcoming and hospitable, that you have a hard time imagining him as a bad guy. And however Ghost unnerves you, he’s obviously decent enough to have bagged such a positive force of nature. Decent enough to have offered you a ride, and a place to stay when you were so desperately in need of one too.

It all tallies up in your head, sand on a scale that dips in favour of one side. Maybe it’s the sleep deprivation, or the pregnancy hormones schooling your common sense into accepting the two, strong men who have demonstrated their willingness to provide – but you’re quickly softening up to the possibility that this is something good without exception. A reward for putting up with so much over the past few months. Some reality where life isn’t looking to beat you down.

If only for the night.

You blindly follow as Johnny gives you a brief tour. Their bedroom is just to the left of the living space, and he tells you to knock if you need anything at all.

“Ye'll be staying upstairs, hen. Unless th' stairs ur awfy much fur ye?”

“No.” You shake your head, stricken by the utter graciousness. “Please. I’m so thankful you’re helping at all. Upstairs is just fine.”

“Promise?” He demands, eyes wide like a quizzical pup. Ghost sidles up behind him, large hand clasping onto his shoulder, right where his shirt's collar ends to reveal the base of his neck. You stare at that touch, that point of skin-on-skin contact, for what must be too long before you can bring yourself to respond.

“I- Yeah. I promise.”

Your room isn't really a room at all, but a loft as large as half the first floor. Three walls and a missing fourth, polished wood railing and opaque curtains offering a degree of separation from the rest of the home. It's all you can do not to flop down on the bed immediately, stripping down to your panties and undershirt before relieving yourself in the attached bathroom.

Despite the modicum of hesitation still planted in your gut – which you doubt will go away until you’re absolutely sure you haven’t made yourself victim to a pair of crazy sexy serial killers – you unwind at record speed. Surprising how easy it is when you aren’t confronted with the burden of your real life. When everything is warm and provided for. When your bed is made with crisp clean sheets, a homemade quilt folded neatly on the edge, and the outside ambience isn’t singing drunks but quiet.

And of course, once your guard comes down, so too does your strength. A ball of devastation snowballs in your chest. Your sternum burns and your nose grows hot. You hardly remember to clasp a hand around your mouth before you burst into an ugly sob, fat tears slipping off your lash line. Only when a stressed hiccup seizes your frame do you become thankful for your sense; you’d really hate for them to hear you cry after having been so kind. You’re not ungrateful in the slightest, but already you prep yourself for the disappointment of returning home come night. A preemptive grief for the life you can never give yourself.

A chorus of morning birdsong and your own, miserable sniffles lull you to sleep.

if anyone's curious, here's the floorplan i used to imagine ghoap's chalet! (source)

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bunnysdaydreams · 7 days

Text

Sin Summer(Ghost + Soap)

Rating: E Tags: f!reader, Ghost x f!reader, Soap x f!reader, Ghost x Soap x f!reader, fingering, piv sex, oral (f&m receiving), dirty talk, D/s dynamics, mmf threesome, unprotected sex(sort of), choking Summary: Ghost and Soap take it upon themselves to interview you for the position of Barrack Bunny. Highly sought after, you're sure.

Part 3

The men are discussing something quietly as you take a seat on the bed. You kick your feet waiting for them to refocus their attention. Ghost’s eyes dart to you, he smiles, his eyes crinkling while John talks. You return the smile, enjoying the view. There’s only one reason to bring another man into the room, one you hadn’t exactly pegged Ghost for. Then again you don’t know much about the guy. Still, you’re not opposed. John is a good looking guy, Ghost is more your type, but you have slept with both of them, so you suppose you shouldn’t be too harsh on poor Johnny boy.

Johnny --you try not to laugh at Ghost’s clear familiarity with him-- crosses his arms over his chest. His biceps flex deliciously, reminding you how nice it was to sink your teeth into them. Ghost settles a hand on the back of Johnny’s neck and pushes him forward, catching his ankle with his foot to make the Scot stumble as he tries to catch himself from falling. He hops towards the bed and you laugh, holding your leg up to catch him with a foot pressed to his sternum.

“Clean ‘er up,” Ghost grunts, stalking after him. You tip your head to give Johnny a sly smile, directing him to his knees as Ghost tells you. “We’re out of condoms, so we gotta get creative.”

“Got one in my wallet,” Johnny breathes, his hands settling on your knees to spread your legs. His eyes fix on your pussy, and you reach to pet a hand through his mohawk. He’s a sweetheart when he knows his place.

Ghost tips your head back to meet his eye with a firm finger under your chin. He raises a brow. “I’ve got the implant,” You tell him, ignoring Johnny despite the way you pull him close. Ghost hums.

“He’s still gotta use the condom,” He decides.

“Want me all to yourself, eh?” You tease and Ghost pushes you back onto the bed.

“Somethin’ like that,” He grumbles, but you can see red creeping over his cheeks. He’s cute, expressive without the mask. All the scars you could feel under your tongue last night are on clear display now, only adding to his roguish charm.

Johnny’s tongue rolls over your slit and you jerk your hips. He shifts his grip, runs his hands up your thighs and around to grip your ass, pulling your cunt against his mouth as he sucks on your clit. Ghost ruffles his hair, settling a knee on the bed and divesting himself of his towel. He holds his cock in his hand giving its soft length a few lazy strokes.

You stretch against the bed, pulling his tee up to show off your tits. Johnny turns his head to nip at the inside of your thigh, grabbing your attention back as Ghost watches. You tug at Johnny’s hair, feel him groan, watch his brows knit together as he sucks at the soft skin of your thigh. He pulls back with a wet pop, rolls his tongue over the bruised skin, and drags his tongue the rest of the way back to your cunt.

“Pretty girl,” He coos at your pussy, “did you miss me?” Giggles bubble out of you, stifled by the wet swipe of Johnny’s tongue. You squeeze one of your breasts with your free hand, bite your lip at the sucking kisses pressed along your slit. Broad licking strokes turn into targeted swirls of Johnny’s tongue around your clit. Tracing his name you think, the curl of his tongue, the wanton groan. His mouth is like a furnace laying its heat over you, winding you up without pushing you over the edge. He presses the wet muscle into your hole, pushing close to wiggle it against your clenching walls.

You glance at Ghost, his cock flush and pretty, standing at attention. He drags scarred knuckles up and down its length, squeezing the head so precum dribbles down his fingers. There’s a soft pink tinge trailing down his chest, barely hidden by the blond swirls of hair that cover him. Ghost tips his head to watch you, you roll your nipple between your fingers, pinching hard as Johnny presses a finger in alongside his tongue.

He licks around his finger, curling the digit to press up against the soft spongy spot near your entrance. Tight heat thrums through you, making you whine. Johnny hums, moving to suck at your clit, parting his lips to slurp at the slick that his pumping finger pulls from you. “Clean up” he’s not doing anything but making a mess of you. Especially when he adds a second finger, that stretch is just perfect for make you squirm back against him. He drags his lips against your pussy, scratching the delicate skin with his scruffy beard, and fucks his fingers into you hard and fast.

You whine, tug at his hair, squeeze your breast just to have something to hold onto as your hips jump to meet his attention. Johnny pulls back to murmur to you, soft encouragement that hardly reaches your ears. His thumb rubs against your clit, his fingers working your cunt, jabbing pleasure with pinpoint precision until all the tightness and heat that had been building in the pit of your stomach burst.

You screw your eyes shut against the rolling pleasure and tip your head back with a moan. The bed dips behind you and Ghost pats your cheek. You open your eyes to his hard cock poised over your face. You don’t bother looking past it to the man behind the cock, just open your mouth and hold out your tongue for him. The pleased rumble it sends through him is enough warning before he’s feeding you his cock. Your eyes flutter and lid, vaguely you feel Johnny pull his fingers from you, hear the sound of a condom wrapper being opened.

Ghost gives a shallow thrust into your mouth, testing. You swirl your tongue around the head of his thick cock as he pulls back, sucking to encourage him to go deeper. Ghost seems content to work himself against your tongue, enjoying the way you trace it along his length and hollow your cheeks. Johnny presses his cock against your pussy, slicking himself in your juices. You moan at the feeling, and wiggle your hips to try and entice him. The head of his cock catches against your hole, and he presses into you ever so slightly, just until the tip is in. Stretching you so nicely but still leaving you empty. You whine around Ghost’s cock, the sound quickly melting into choked moans as Johnny grips his cock and wiggles it inside you, stretching your pussy further.

Ghost lets you adjust to the feeling, lets you squirm while Johnny toys with you. He pulls back, rubs the tip of his dick over your lips as you whimper. His cock slips against your lips as he leans forward, and you tip your head further back to try and drag your tongue over his balls. He deserves all the love you can give after last night. You earn a low pleased noise for your trouble, then you hear him talking.

Ghost’s voice is a low rumble, dark and dangerous like you haven’t heard him before. Even when he was dirty talking you, when he had you in every position, he never sounded dangerous. You suppose you don’t know a lot about him, but you didn’t get the sense that he was a violent lover. Now you hear him talking to Johnny and realize that might just be a kindness he extends to you only.

“Fuck ‘er properly or I’ll send ya back half-arsed,” He growls. You feel Johnny’s cock twitch, before he sinks into your cunt, filling you properly. He doesn’t stretch you as wide as Ghost did, but it still makes your back arch, heat ripping through you at suddenly being filled. He hits you deep, and you clench around him as he draws back to finally thrust into your cunt properly.

You lap your tongue against the delicate skin holding Ghost’s balls, feeling the coarse hair drag with each lick. The position isn’t the best for this, but you don’t mind. Johnny thrusts into you hard and you squeak, your eyes squeezing as you do your best to suck one of Ghost’s balls into your mouth. He tastes like hotel soap, you wonder why he didn’t have you do this last night. He was so focused on your pleasure, you’re not complaining, but it’s not usually the day after that you get a chance to blow the guy that blew your back out.

Ghost settles a hand on your chest, squeezing one of your breasts and pinching the nipple between his fingers. Mirroring what you’d done. The feeling of his rough hands squeezing and molding your skin to fit his grip, the electric pinch to your nipple, makes your skin prickle with warmth. You push your chest into his grip, clench around Johnny’s cock, anything to try and get them to move, to give you more. You’re caught on the edge of motion, teased with hard cocks and calloused hands.

You wiggle a little, shift to see what Ghost’s doing, and catch him holding the front of Johnny’s shirt, speaking in low, low, tones against his ear. Johnny’s face is red, his eyes screwed shut as he hangs his head. Ghost catches your eye and smiles, raising his voice, before releasing Johnny back to his work, “Only job is to stretch ‘er out for me sergeant, try ta keep ‘er from comin’ while you do that.”

Johnny shakes his head, his ears red as he seems to come back to himself. “Rog,” He grins at you, “Sorry doll, got my orders.”

You open your mouth to tell him that hardly seems fair, but Ghost is quick to silence you with his cock down your throat. You gag at the sudden intrusion and Ghost settles his hand on your throat.

“Had ta ask me ta dae that,” Johnny grumbles, and Ghost pulls back enough to let you spit. He drags the slobber over your lips with his cockhead, pushing back in when you open them. You swirl your tongue around the head again, tasting the salt of his pre-cum before he eases it deeper. You’re able to keep from gagging this time, letting him push down your throat with little resistance.

“Bigger an’ meaner than you Johnny,” Ghost rumbles, and you can’t help the smile that threatens to creep across your lips. His dick reaches far enough past your gag reflex that you don’t need to do more than swallow around him to chase the tickle out of your throat. Ghost groans, and settles a hand on your throat, squeezing himself through your skin. Your lashes flutter. The size of him… God.

Johnny snaps his hips and you moan, you can feel it vibrate around Ghost’s cock, feel the man press his hand a little more firmly against your throat. Your hands reach for Johnny, he fucks you hard, winds you up with devestating jabs at something aching deep inside you, then stills. Your fingers brush the thick hair on his thigh and his hands catch your wrists, pinning them by your sides, holding you down as he fucks you. Your poor sensitive cunt clenches at the dull battering ache of his cock. He hits you deep and full, stroking heat into you with each drag of his thick cock against your gummy walls.

Your hips jump and squirm, trying to escape the absolute precision jobs of his cock. Johnny may not be as big as Ghost is, but he knows how to use every inch. Your eyes roll back, as he pushes moans and whines out of you. Ghost thrusts into your throat, stifling every sound with his girthy length until the only sound you make is the sloppy sucking slurp of your tongue laving over his cock.

“Tha’s it sweet’art, takin’ it so well.” Ghost tells you, his voice rumbling through you. The man may as well have swallowed gravel for breakfast. His voice is wrecked just from the sight of you, from the curl of your tongue as he thrusts into your mouth. “Get ‘er close Johnny, play with that pretty little clit,” He orders.

You make a noise of protest and feel the pressure on one of your wrists release. Johnny’s thumb rubs over your clit, his thrusts slowing but losing none of their precision. Actually he pulls out a little, rubbing circles over your clit, sending electricity thrumming up your spine as his cockhead pushes against your g-spot. He works you up at the same time Ghost pushes down your throat and holds you there.

“Just like a toy, eh LT?” Johnny grins. You reach your free hand to push at Ghost’s hip with a whine. He angles his hips, pushing deeper down your throat. You try to take a breath through your nose and gag.

“Got this sweet’art,” Ghost assures, “just a li’le more.” Black is starting the edge your vision, your eyes rolling back at the constant drive of pleasure, the electric prickle over your skin, the tightness in your stomach that seems to creep up and up without release. Johnny swears as you clench hard around him, your chest burning from the lack of air and all your muscles tightening.

The attention to your clit leaves, and Johnny’s pace picks up. His hips slamming against you as Ghost pulls out to watch you sputter and gulp at the air. Thick strands of saliva connect your panting lips to his fat cock. You don’t get a moment to admire the sight of the glistening shine you’d given him, too busy with your back arching as Johnny grabs your hips and buries his cock deep inside you.

Even with the condom you can feel him twitching. His shoulders moving with his breathing as he comes. He gives another short thrust, and another, filling the condom with his spend before pulling out.

“Fuck,” He groans. Fuck indeed. You whine, turn your head to nuzzle against Ghost’s thick thigh, you haven’t come. This is beginning to feel like a pattern.

Ghost doesn’t seem to care, his hands hooking under your arms to haul you up against his chest. He positions you on your knees, and slots his spit slick cock between your legs. He rubs the hot, bare, skin against your dripping cunt, driving you mad with each bump of his cockhead against your clit. You lean back against his broad chest, let him wrap his arm around you, part your folds with two thick fingers. Your head drops back against his shoulder feeling his cock prod at your entrance. Thick and delicious even after Johnny had opened you up.

Your lips part as he presses into you, your breath catching in your throat at the stretch as his blunt head breaks you open. He makes you make room for him, the slight burn of the head popping into your cunt sends a shiver through you. You clench around him, and he presses his lips against the shell of your ear. Ghost’s hips rock, easing his cock in inch by devastating inch. When his hips finally meet yours you feel full. Full in a way Johnny couldn’t make you, every inch of you parted and stretched around this giant of a man. He grinds against you and you see stars, you can feel him in your stomach, God you can feel him in your stomach.

You lift up enough to give a solid bounce, though you’re sure you only get halfway up his cock. The motion makes you moan. His cock nestles right against your cervix, the warm ache of it as you move your hips makes your breath catch. You can’t seem to find a wrong angle to fuck yourself back onto him. Which must be the point.

Ghost doesn’t do anything to help, doesn’t do anything to aid the movement of your gentle bounces. It’s actually starting to drive you a little insane. You’re putting in all the work while he stays still as a statue behind you. You reach behind yourself to scratch your nails over his hips, tip your head off his shoulder to try and glance between your legs, see if you can catch a glimpse of his cock pressing against your stomach.

Instead you see Johnny watching, absolutely transfixed, on the way you bounce on Ghost’s cock. He’s hard again, or still, you’re not sure which, but his cock is hard and he’s got one hand pressed against its length. He’s started to crawl onto the bed after you, one knee bent to hold himself up and the other just starting to creep onto the mattress. Ghost pulls your head back against his shoulder with a firm hand around your neck.

“Why don’ you clean ‘er up again Sergeant,” He asks, his breath hot where he presses his lips against your temple, “and you, love-” the gears in your brain work overtime to process he’s talking to you, “-you just try to stay still for me. Let me use this pussy like I’m meant ta.” You nod quickly, your chin bumping against his thick fingers. It earns you a low chuckle and a, “Good girl” that makes you clench desperately around his cock.

Johnny crawls forward and bends down to lap at your clit. The feeling makes your hips jerk, too electric, familiar but unfamiliar to your current predicament. You can’t say you’ve ever had a guy eat you out while you were being fucked. You breath comes out shakily, and you try to hold your hips still for Ghost. Easier said than done when the man behind you pulls his hips back and fucks into you hard enough you’re sure the smack of your ass could be heard by the next three rooms. It also forces your hips forward, dragging your clit against Johnny’s tongue.

Your eyes flutter closed as your back arches. Fuck. Fuck. They may as well be hitting you from both sides. Johnny works his tongue over your clit, while Ghost’s fat cock drags against your walls, pushing against the same sensitive nerves from the back. You’re starting to sweat from the heat of it, your skin prickling as pleasure shivers through you. Johnny pushes forward, drags his tongue around your entrance, around Ghost’s cock as it fucks into you, licking the slick from you as quickly as it coats his lieutenant’s cock.

Warm broad strokes of tongue, hard thrusts from dick that hits every spot you could ever dream of. You’re forced to hold your hips still for no reason other than: you’re not sure whether to rock back into Ghost’s thrusts or try to grind on Johnny’s tongue. Ghost groans into your ear, Johnny groans against your cunt, the sound mixes with your own tight whines and whimpering moans. Someone bangs on the wall, but you can’t help caring.

Everything is hot and tight in the pit of your stomach. Your orgasm building again from where it had been abandoned by Johnny, stoked by the stroke of Ghost’s cock. It’s too much. Tightening and tightening with none of the usual leg shaking release. You try to force it out, but you can barely breathe through the heavy jabs of Ghost’s cock against your cervix. All you can think about is his dick absolutely ruining you.

Ghost grunts, angles his hips and tells you, “Go on and come on my cock love, come on Johnny’s face.”

It’s all the push you need. Ghost hits something deep and delicious and something snaps. The tightness releases with a gush as all your muscles seem to dissolve into shudders and you squirt on Johnny’s face. He drinks you down greedily, his beard dripping as he ruts his cock against the bedspread. Johnny groans, swears, as he slurps at your clit, and you feel the warmth of his come hit your knee.

Ghost turns your face towards him with the insistence of a man possessed and kisses you. His tongue invading your mouth with the same desperation he fucks into you. Your head spins, your hips squirming with sensitivity as he licks over your tongue and teeth. He pulls back to lick a broad stripe over your parted lips. Your cheeks are pinched, your mouth opened further, and Ghost spits onto your tongue.

“Keepin’ you,” He informs you, holding eye contact as he presses his hips tight against your ass and fills you. There’s no room, you clench around his twitching cock and feel warmth flood your already stuffed cunt. Ghost pulls back, rutting in shallow thrusts as your pussy milks him for all he’s got. His come drips out of you, pulled by the motion, and onto the bed. You can’t do anything but let him use you until he’s finished.

His eyes are like caramel. So sticky you can’t look away. You’ve never been fucked like that, he certainly didn’t fuck you like that last night. You wonder what’s changed.

Ghost pulls out with a sigh. You assume he’s going to let you go, and he does, but only to push you into Johnny’s waiting arms.

You feel a bit like a baby deer clamoring off the bed, your legs shaking with the effort of keeping you aloft. Luckily Johnny is there to hold you up. At least until Ghost sweeps you off your feet and over his shoulder without so much as a grunt of effort. Jesus, how strong is this guy? Johnny jogs ahead to turn the shower on and you’re crowded under the hot stream of water to be cleaned up.

“That was fun,” You tell the boys when you feel like you can say something other that, ‘holy shit I think that changed my life.’ Ghost hums, his fingers much more gentle as he works to clean you up. “What now?” You ask, hoping the answer is breakfast.

“Now? Now we take you back to the barracks and keep ya entertained ‘til your visa runs out.” Ghost tells you with a smile. Johnny grins.

“Welcome to the Special Service pet.”

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bunnysdaydreams · 7 days

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Sin Summer (Soap) Rating: E(MDNI) Word Count: 2.7k Tags: Soap x f!Reader, tinder au, oral (m and f!receiving), throat fucking, messy sex, masturbation, breath play, D/s dynamic, public play, spit play, piv sex, fingering, dirty talk, pussy slapping, meet and fuck, pwp, reader sleeps around and no one blames them Summary: Six days ago you were in Glasgow, it's really not a big deal. Part 2, Part 4

(Six days ago, Glasgow)

“Cannae say ya been to Scotland if ya don’ have a few tablets.” John tells you as you stare at the sort of caramel colored cube he handed you. He’s got a whole bag of them tucked in his pocket. You shrug and bite into the cube, it’s sweet, very sweet. Sweet enough to make your teeth hurt a little, so you pop the whole thing in your mouth and enjoy the way the sugar melts on your tongue. “Good yeah?” You nod, and he passes you another.

So far this is one of your more tame tinder dates. You’re more of a late evening kind of adventurer, but John had insisted on taking you out proper. Something about making sure you were properly wooed before he started “in on you”. Makes you feel a little like you’re going to get murdered, but he assured you he’d lose his commission if he did anything that stupid. So here you are, being shown around town and treated to all sorts of goodies. Properly wooed.

This guy’s gotta be a freak.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” You ask, taking in the scenery of the city.

“Dinner, drinks” John hums, “chains, whips.”

“Seriously?” You laugh.

“Awright,” John laughs, “No chains an’ whips, I’ll stick with mah hands.” You bump your shoulder against him and he loops an arm around you.

“I’m all yours, as long as it’s fun.” You tell him, playing into his joke. You’re a sucker for a pretty face, always have been, and it makes your cheeks heat to meet those angel blue eyes and crooked smile. John tugs you a little closer against his side, squeezes you tight so it’s hard to walk. It makes you giggle, and lets you feel all the lovely muscle he’s hiding under his pull-over.

“Never had any complaints,” He brags, “but I won’t treat ya too rough.” You laugh when he presses a wet smacking kiss to your temple, pushing at his face to get him off. He lets you go only long enough to swat your ass, grabbing your hips and pulling you back against him as soon as you swear. The sting is perfect, not enough through your jeans, but promising.

“My safe word’s applesauce,” You joke. John’s low hum, his eyes lidding as he looks you over, makes you think he’s not joking.

“Practice it for me, pet,” He half orders, and your mouth goes dry. He pulls on dominance with just a roll of his shoulders. No shit this guy’s military, every inch of him commands respect. He grips your chin with his fingers when you take too long, moving your jaw for you. “Applesauce,” He coos, “say it.”

“Ap-” You clear your throat, resist the urge to lick your lips, “applesauce.”

“Stick out your tongue,” He tips your head back as you open your mouth and show him your tongue. Someone passes you on the street, their voice as they talk on their phone barely reaches you except to drop heat into the pit of your stomach. John spits on your tongue in the middle of a busy street and your skin blazes with heated shame. “Swallow,” His voice vibrates through you and settles with a burst between your legs, you close your mouth and swallow thickly, opening again to show him you’re empty. John smiles, tips your head one way then the other to inspect. “Good girl,” He coos, and you could melt right there.

“Maybe we skip dinner,” You mumble. John drags his thumb against your lips, leaning back to force you to lean more heavily against him. You don’t think you could even keep yourself standing if it weren’t for his firm grip.

His smile is blinding, you have to blink to keep your eyes focused on him, but his voice drips low like honey down your spine, “That’s what take-away’s for.”

“Be better if I had a proper leash,” John hums, looping his belt around your neck, “Doesn’t have the same yank to it.” He pulls the end of the leather hard, the thick metal buckle snapping tight against your neck. It’s a fun sort of pull towards him that makes you want to pull back, the squeeze around your neck evenly distributed across the leather to be only slightly uncomfortable. “Green pet?” He asks and you give a thumbs up.

“Green sir,” The words drag pleasantly against your tongue, been a while since you had anyone fun to play with, “Not my first time doing this.”

“Alright then, on your back, head over the edge.” John directs, nodding towards the bed. His grip on the belt loosens enough that you can pull the end from his fingers as you get settled. Normally you consider stripping part of the fun, but for now you’re thankful John had you get undressed before he started collaring you.

You tip your head back, arms on either side of you, fingers twisting into the sheets, and open your mouth. You know the drill. John laughs, and leans to grab his belt again. The dark leather in his tight fist is attractive, and the gentle pressure on your neck makes your head spin. Not choking you, not yet, but the threat is there. John unbuttons his pants tugging his cock free. Shower, you think. He’s big, but still only half hard. It doesn’t matter when he feeds you his cock, easing into your mouth as you lave your tongue against the head. You reach up with your hand to grip the base of his cock, and he pulls the belt tight.

“No hands pet,” He warns, and you slide your hand up his stomach instead. Card your fingers through the dark curls leading up to his belly button, tracing the lines of his abs with careful purpose as you swallow around his cock. The belt loosens and you open your mouth a little wider. John pulls back, and you swirl your tongue around his head, sucking hard at the sensitive glans.

You can feel his cock stiffening with each shallow thrust into your mouth, warming you up for the main event. You suck greedily at him, never let it be said you don’t give a mean blow job. You worship his cock as best you can. You stroke your tongue over his length, hollowing your cheeks to encourage him deeper. You can feel the muscles under your fingers holding back, but you wish they wouldn’t. John works himself deeper with every roll of his hips, testing your gag reflex until he’s satisfied you can take him.

He pushes into your mouth, his hard cock stretching out your throat with a pleasant burn. You do your best to swallow the discomfort, dragging your tongue over his length as best you can. He stops there, his cock down your throat and his balls knocking against your nose. He invades your senses, the smell of his sweat and musk filling your nose with each breath, your eyes starting to water from the angle, you scratch his stomach, trying to find something to hold onto. You feel him lean into the touch. Then the sharp sting of him slapping your clit. You squeal, the noise muffled by the cock in your throat, and scramble to get away from the feeling, which only pushes you further onto his dick.

John hits you again and you can’t do anything but twitch. The belt around your throat tightens warningly, and you whimper around him. His hand rubs down between your legs and drags slick up over your aching clit. He slaps you three times in rapid succession, each one harder than the last. Your eyes roll a little, and you take a sharp breath. Again you’re made dizzy by the smell of him, masculine enough to tickle your nose.

“Getting all worked up over a few slaps,” John tuts, clicking his tongue as his fingers rub over your cunt, “look how wet you are for me already.” You whine around his cock, feel it drag out of your throat and over your tongue as he pulls his hips back. You lick his length desperately when he leaves your mouth, kissing his cock between breaths. He rocks his hips against your lips, smearing your spit over your face. You tip your head a little more to catch his balls as he moves, sucking at the sensitive skin and dragging your tongue through the wiry curls.

“Proper slag,” He groans, you can feel his fingers wrap around his cock, his strokes bumping your chin, “givin’ my balls a spit shine, while I abuse your pretty pussy.”

You make an affirmative noise, opening your mouth wide to suck one of his balls into your mouth. Your eyes do roll at the next smack, and you can hear John groaning as you moan around him. The spark of the slaps is starting to drip out of you, your cunt clenching with each strike. The noise is different too quick, your wetness smeared eagerly over your pussy with each rub of John’s hand. It’s not enough for you. Your stomach tight and hot without the trigger to send it over the edge.

You give John’s balls a final kiss, enjoying the spit that sticks to your mouth as you pull away. “Make me gag,” You beg, licking at John’s fingers as he strokes his cock, “please.” The belt tightens again, too quick for you to think what you’re saying wrong. John’s fingers hook in your cunt, tugging at your pussy and tilting your hips for himself. You shiver, do your best to breath while darkness fuzzes your vision. Your head swims, pleasantly warm, as your carotids are squeezed. “Please, sir.” You amend, though you’re not sure you want to.

“There you go,” John mumbles, the belt loosening as the man pulls back to push into your waiting mouth with one solid motion. You gag, constricting unpleasantly around his cock. You feel the rush of spit in your mouth, the drool you can’t swallow down that drips out over your lips with each thrust of his cock. You moan around him, grinding your clit against the heel of his hand. John clicks his tongue again, and the sound shudders through you. All hot and heady.

He spanks your cunt raw as he fucks your throat, and you feel all the tightness in your stomach unwind like the snap of a rubberband. Orgasm shivers up your spine, and you feel yourself flutter around emptiness. It’s wet and warm, and John doesn’t stop just because your legs are shaking. You writhe against the bed, your feet scrambling for purchase. It hurts, it’s too much. You smack John’s stomach and he stills. Your stomach flips as his hand stops its assault, only for his come to flood your throat. You gag again, and swallow desperately.

It’s not worth it, he pulls out to paint your face. His come hits your tongue, then your chin, then over your chest. You don’t bother swallowing the drool and come that he leaves in your mouth, letting it drip out of your mouth and over your cheeks.

John pulls you up off the edge of the bed by his makeshift leash and you attempt to get your libs to work while your brain is trying to play catchup. “On your knees,” He orders you, and you flop forward onto the bed. You push your hips up, feel John knock your knees further apart, his fingers pushing into your pussy. You flinch away from the feeling and he pulls you right back. “Color?” He hums, twisting his fingers against your sweet spot.

“Green,” You moan, trying to avoid coming on his fingers immediately. You’re too sensitive from the spanking, clenching on his fingers as soon as he starts thrusting them into you. If John’s opening you up he certainly doesn’t take his time with it. His thrusts are quick and targeted, his fingers hitting your sweet spot until you feel a gush of wetness slick them. His hand leaves you and you do your best to keep your hips up. “Fuck,” you groan against the sheets, “please-” The rest of your sentence is lost with the feeling of his cock pressing against you.

You push back against it, feeling the nudge of it as it pushes against your entrance. Thick and tempting. John holds still for you, lets you try and pop him inside before his hips snap against you and you gasp, tightening around his cock immediately. You close your eyes and press your messy face against the bed. Fuck he feels good, stretches you just enough to feel it.

The drag of his cock against your walls is warm and rough, he doesn’t give you time to adjust. You love when they do that. Makes the slight ache of being fucked hard that much better. He hits something deep and zappy in your stomach. You let out a tight whine, and press back into the feeling, trying to get him to do it again.

“Know how to make me feel good, don’t you slag.” John rumbles, his voice rough and deep. You nod, feel the wetness on your face dragging over the sheets. John pulls the belt tight, forces you to arch your back as you lift your head, “Can’t hear ya’,” He coos, “I said-”

“Yes,” You moan, the ‘ss’ pulling long and fricative as he fucks you at a brutal pace, “Yes, yes, yes.”

“Fuckin’ pleasure to use,” John’s voice fuzzes in your brain, your eyes unfocused as you stare at the wall over the headboard, “take my cock so well.” The smack of his thighs against yours hurts, his balls knocking against your already abused clit tick the tight heat in your stomach a little tighter with each thrust.. He’s bigger than you, stronger the way he pulls you back with just a belt. You clench on his cock, another gush of slick easing his thrusts. “Just like that, pretty little cunt, fuck am gonna come.”

You push back against his cock, feel his thrusts grow erratic as his pace speeds up. He comes with a sharp intake of breath, and lets go of the belt to let you fall onto the bed again. You shiver against the sheets, and try to catch your breath as he pulls out. Fuck. You didn’t come. You’re still wound up for a third.

You shove a hand between your legs and rub at your clit. “You’re jokin’,” John gapes. You ignore him, rocking against your fingers as you finally feel yourself cross the edge. You let out a shaky breath as your stomach jumps, your pussy fluttering and your legs shaking. You whine for yourself, rubbing your clit until your hips jump away from the feeling. You can feel John watching you as you drop your hand back against the bed with a sigh.

There’s a long moment of silence. You don’t particularly care what John thinks, but you could do without the quiet. Your hips buck when you feel his tongue lick a broad stroke over your dripping cunt. You’re quick to grab his short cropped hair and pull, as he wiggles his tongue against you.

“Good boy,” You purr, keeping a tight grip on him as he cleans you up.

(Now)

“You know him?” Ghost tips his head at the man in the doorway. It’s the first time you’ve noticed that he isn’t wearing his mask. He looks good. Handsome even with the scars that cut across his cheeks. The sort of handsome that makes men confident even when they can’t show their face. You get a little distracted looking at him, take long enough answering that he glances at you. The smile you earn, the soft chuckle as he turns and knocks his finger under your chin, is worth it. “Back to me baby,” He tells you, and you take a breath.

“Could ask you the same thing,” You smile back. Ghost hums, something sparking in his eyes that you can’t place.

“Johnny,” Ghost calls over his shoulder, John’s shoulders jerk back, the scot standing at attention, “Close the door.”

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bunnysdaydreams · 7 days

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Sin Summer (Ghost) Rating: E (MDNI) Words: 3.8k Tags: Ghost x f!reader, tinder au, oral (f!receiving), piv sex, fingering, dirty talk, meet and fuck, pwp, reader sleeps around and no one blames them Summary: You finally meet up with your faceless tinder guy and he quickly takes the number 1 spot on your hookup list. a/n: When I say nothing is abandoned I mean NOTHING. Part 1, Part 3

You're a little nervous when Saturday rolls around, but not any more nervous than you usually are. You're meeting in a public place, and if things break bad you can always scream. Hell if things break good Ghost promised to have you screaming. So one way or the other you get to be loud.

You don't even know who you're looking for, standing outside the bar and waiting for someone to... grab you? Usually you have a photo and can look around but Ghost was insistent that wasn't going to happen. You stare at your phone, at the open tinder dm and the promise from Ghost that he'd find you. He better not be a catfish or you're going to have to do some serious soul searching on your ability to be fooled on this app.

A large firm hand touches your shoulder and you quiet your startle response to something more reasonable for someone camped outside a bar.

"Easy love," his voice is so deep and rough, you pray this is Ghost, because you have to hear this voice dirty talk you. You have to look up to meet his eye. Which is just about the only thing you can meet since he's wearing a mask. You recognize the bottom of it, sort of, from one of his pictures. If nothing else the skeletal jaw print sort of lends itself to a name like Ghost.

"Ghost?" You ask hesitantly, if it's not him you'll sound like an idiot but the way his brows raise at your question give the same answer his voice does.

"The one and only."

"Faceless in person too, huh?" You really don't know what to say, never know what to say at the initial meeting. You both know what you're here for, but it's not like you can really say it.

"Try to be. Still got a mouth under here though, don't you worry." You feel the heat bloom over your cheeks at the same time you notice his eyes crease at the corners. You think he might be teasing you.

"You pull it up to drink I guess," you fish for something to say. Ghost shakes his head.

"Only comes off for one thing tonight sweetheart, and it's not drinking." His voice, God his voice, you think he could read the ingredients on a shampoo bottle and you'd get off on it. Your stomach clenches, eyes darting to his army fatigues. You really hope those are just for fashion.

"What the fuck are we at a bar for then?" You ask a little breathless. Ghost stares up at the bar sign.

"Gotta at least pretend I'm a gentleman," he tells you, "you said we were near your hotel, yeah?"

You grab his hand and very nearly drag him back to your hotel. Fuck it. If he is army you're not getting fucked in a barrack when you've got a perfectly good mattress at the hotel. You're sure he'd appreciate a shower with just the two of you in it as well. If he even wants to spend the night... do you want him to spend the night? If it means morning sex then absolutely.

It turns out Ghost's mask goes up for more than one thing, though you're given very strict instructions to keep your eyes closed for at least half of them.

Eyes closed when he kisses you. His hands are so big, rough with scars and callouses when they cup your face and tip your head back. You think you feel scars on his lips too, the softness of them cut with a raised lines of something, but you can't bother paying too much attention to them. His kissing leads you to believe some very promising things about his head. Lips sliding against yours firm and hungry before you try to get a breath in and he doesn't let you, deepening the kiss with an insistent tongue that makes your head spin from more than just lack of oxygen.

You love a confidant man. A man who kisses you like you're all that he wants, that he needs. You both know you're more than willing, but he still kisses you like you need convincing. His tongue slides against yours, licks into your mouth; he groans when you suck on the wet muscle. Ghost makes a quiet noise into the kiss, soft and a little desperate. You don't know if you'd considered how much he might want you when you'd started this.

"Ghost," you sigh when his lips leave yours and attach themselves to your neck. He hesitates, like it's the first time he's heard his name said like that, before diving in to bite you, hard. You tip your head back further with a gasp, the ache of his teeth against your skin makes you squirm, makes heat pool between your legs. You shiver as his tongue rolls over the bruise, his hands tugging at the bottom of your tee. You're careful to keep your eyes closed when he lifts it over your head. "Pants too," you hum.

"Don't gotta remind me," he tells you, fingers already skimming your belt. He barely gets it undone before he pushes his hand into your pants. His tongue clicks admonishingly, fingers skimming your wet panties. You do your best not to follow the firm strokes. "You're really desperate for me, aren't you?" His low tone hits you right where his fingers do. You're glad you're looking at the ceiling and not him, the way he makes your skin heat.

"You're my type," you tell him honestly, hips following the rub of his fingers. Screw it, if he's going to tease you, you're going to enjoy it.

"You should get better taste." You wish you could argue with that, but considering who you brought home he's probably right. You settle on humming, not willing to make a solid noise of agreement or disagreement when he's got his hand down your pants.

You close your eyes when he moves, when he hauls you up to position on the bed. His hand covers your eyes, warm and calloused, and big. It's firm, steadfast, you're almost enjoying the makeshift blindfold situation. Ghost's lips latch onto one of your nipples, sucking and rolling his tongue over the hardening bud. The heat of his mouth makes you squirm, the bite of his teeth just at the edge of too hard. He sucks and laves his tongue over you like he can't get enough of the feeling. You let a whine slip free and he moves his attention to the other one.

His fingers rub you through your underwear, working you up to soaking with practiced precision. Three firm fingers dragging up and down your slit, stopping to circle your clit with each stroke. It's warm pressure that makes your hips cant, chasing the movement. He's teasing you, keeping you just at the edge of eager while he enjoys himself with your breasts. You squirm a little and his touch slides further up to occupy itself with the waistband of your panties. You pull your legs up to help him get them off.

Ghost seems to switch gears as soon as they're gone. His hand leaving your eyes to grip under your knees, settling your legs on either side of him and pushing them up towards your chest. He trails his mouth down your stomach, nipping and licking at the soft skin, leaving his mark against your hip before he slips between your legs.

Keeping your eyes closed makes it hard not to flinch when his tongue drags over your slit. Broad strokes as he tastes you, his fingers spread you open so he can wiggle it between your folds and you press your hips into his touch. The hot drag of his tongue as it circles your hole makes you squirm, which makes him chuckle, deep and dark.

"You want me to hold you down?" He offers, the sound of his voice making heat rush over your skin. You shake your head and feel his broad shoulders shrug, you slide your legs over them and squeeze your thighs around his head. You feel him turn and bury his teeth in the soft flesh of your thigh.

It distracts him, you think, when he releases his teeth he runs his tongue along your skin, kissing and sucking at your thigh. His lips are appreciative, even when you squeeze him again. He's teasing you, he's so close to where you want him, working you up without ever touching your pussy. Your stomach jumps, warmth from his breath ghosting against your wet cunt. "I know baby," He groans, "gorgeous-" He cuts himself off, his lips pressing against your leg again before they leave you.

You almost open your eyes again when he fastens his mouth over your clit. You're so on edge waiting for him to touch you that you curl into his mouth, your fingers gripping his short cropped hair. His tongue rolls over your clit sending shocks up your spine. Your stomach jumps and you gasp as he sucks at your cunt, tugging at your clit and kissing your slit. He stirs heat in the pit of your stomach with each stroke of his tongue. Ghost's mouth is like a furnace, one that seems desperate to avoid parting from you. You hardly get a break from his insistent tongue, the sucking kisses, and the groans of deep satisfaction.

Ghost doesn't stop for a second, and the constant attention winds itself tight in the pit of your stomach. You whine, tug at his hair to pull his mouth closer, to keep that delicious suction that makes you want to writhe. He hums around your clit as you feel pressure build quick, before you can even warn him. Your whining grows more insistent as everything goes tight then spasms against his tongue as you come. Ghost doesn't give you a break, tongue stroking your clit as you clench and shake under him.

You jerk your hips when you feel his thick finger circling your hole, and his mouth leaves you. Only long enough to click his tongue and settle a hand on your stomach. He pushes your hips down against the bed, and eases his finger into your still fluttering cunt. "Gotta open you up love, relax." He tells you.

His finger is thick, thicker than some of the guys you've slept with, and you let out a soft noise at the gentle stretch. Ghost hums his encouragement, pumping his finger in and out of your cunt. He kisses your thigh again; you tip your head ever so slightly down and he clicks his tongue again. "Eyes up," He reminds you. You tip your head back, though you ache to get a look at the mouth that so expertly took you apart. The mouth that seems to still be trying to take you apart, because as soon as your head is back he's licking your clit again.

Your too sensitive, you have to force yourself to stay still, though his hand holding you down helps. You can hear the wetness between your legs, from his mouth, from his fingers, from your drooling cunt. Ghost hardly gives you a moment to adjust to the feeling, crooking his finger to stroke against your walls while he sucks. You clench around his finger and feel his tongue lap a broad stroke over your cunt in return. He waits for you to relax again before easing a second finger into you.

The burn of the stretch, just a bit too soon, is perfect. His fingers tug at your hole, sliding slickly in and out of you. It's just enough to make you feel full without filling you. Fuck it's good. Ghost strokes your walls, his fingers easing the stretch with gentle movements. He presses up against your soft spot and you let out a breath. You can hear the smile in his voice when he mumbles,

"There she is."

It's the only warning you get before his fingers are thrusting into you with a purpose. Short, quick, and precise, hitting your sweet spot with every stroke. Your stomach jumps and you clench around his fingers. He sits back, his hand leaving your stomach to hold your legs up, keep you from gaining any leverage as your back arches and you moan. He seems to have a direct line to your pleasure center. Each stroke of his fingers tightens in the pit of your stomach and makes your hips squirm to try and get away from the unrelenting jab of his hand. He's quick and experienced, and your legs shake over his shoulders.

You suppose it should be a relief when he removes his fingers just before you come a second time, and settles your feet on the bed. "Wanna watch you squirm," Ghost's voice is rough, deeper than you've heard it before. His fingers are the same, only this time when you try to get away from them he follows you. You were already on edge but this pushes you over. You buck and squirm, forcing him to fuck his fingers into you harder and faster until you shake apart with a shout and a flood of wetness. It coats your thighs, you know it coats his hand. It makes him groan. It doesn't make him stop. "Again," He tells you, his fingers still working you up quick. You don't have time to recover, your legs only pull up against your chest, desperate to curl in on yourself as the pleasure turns to pain and then pleasure again.

You come with your head thrown back and your fingers gripping the sheets. You shudder as it rips through you without warning, and once again coats Ghost's hand. He draws his fingers from you, and you hear him suck them clean. Somehow the sound makes you shiver.

Catching your breath takes priority over trying to sneak another peak at your partner for the night. You're sticky with sweat, three orgasms in, and you haven't even been fucked yet. You're buzzing just at the edge of enough. A good dick would make your night. To your side you hear the rustle of fabric being discarded. Ghost getting undressed you assume.

"Can look if you want," Ghost's voice is ever so slightly muffled, and when you do tip your head to find him he has his mask on again. You must look confused, because he shakes his head with a chuckle, and glances down to unclasp his belt. "Wanna look you in the eye," He explains, "Hard to do that with your eyes closed."

It's hard to look him in the eye anyway when he looks like that. Your eyes scour over the swell of well maintained muscle and the soft layer of fat that covers it. There are scars too, a whole host of them. They cover every inch of him, slashed over his chest, stabbed in his side, bullet holes in his shoulder and thick biceps. If you had any doubt this man saw combat it was gone now. He must be military, maybe special forces, it explains the mask.

Ghost pushes his pants down and you... well you need to rethink some things.

In your experience men who are criminally good at giving head are making up for something. Men who know how to "open you up" even more so. You swallow looking at the cock hanging between his legs, so long and heavy that it didn't spring up when he shucked his boxers. His fingers wrap around it, giving it a few good strokes with your slick as lube, and you watch the motion hungrily. He's not compensating for anything, he's just a great lay.

"How do you want me," You ask, eyes focused on the movement of his cock as he bends to grab a box from his discarded pants. He hums, tugging a length of condoms out and ripping one off.

"I'll move ya," He responds, rolling the rubber over his dick. A little shiver rushes down your spine, you like a man who knows what he's doing.

Ghost does, in fact, move you. He grabs your hips and drags you to the edge of the bed, the movement so quick and self assured it makes you giggle. His eyes crease at the edges, he's smiling you think, and he keeps smiling as he settles a knee on the bed next to you. You're quick to wrap your legs around his hips, and he's just as quick to pull them off and settle them over his arms. His big hands knead at your thighs, the extra leverage lining you up perfectly with his cock. Despite the angle, you're not using any muscles to hold yourself up, that's kind of him. Less kind when he positions himself at your entrance and tells you,

"Need you to be a good girl and take it," You gasp as he pushes into you, splitting you open more than his fingers could ever hope to, "Think you can do that?" You nod quickly, warmth dripping like honey to pool in the pit of your stomach. He didn't stretch you enough, but you think that might be the point. The ache of his cock stretching you open lets you feel every fat inch of it, every vein that drags against your walls, eased by the slick of your orgasms. Your eyes roll a little when he stops and pulls out a little. You whine, clenching to try and keep him inside, to keep that delicious stretch. Ghost groans, swears under his breath and shakes his head.

You should have anticipated him thrusting the last few inches inside. The hard thrust slapping his hips against yours forces a moan out of you. You arch in his hold, shivery, and glance between your legs as he gives you just a moment to adjust. The thick curls around his cock brush against your overworked clit and you do your best not to squirm. Not that you have much opportunity to squirm when Ghost fucks his weight down onto you. Each deep thrust hitting something achingly good inside you that makes you moan and claw at the arms holding you.

Your brows draw together looking at Ghost, he holds your gaze, his eyes piercing, dark and hungry. He's almost daring you to look away as he pounds into you. You're pinned under him, your legs forced back as he leans over you and treats you to a fountain of praise: "squeezin' me so good," "takin' it so well," "pretty little whore," "made for my cock." Your eyes roll back, the hot punch of his cock against your cervix almost too much for you. He told you to take it, you can be good for him, let him use you after he got you off so many times. That doesn't stop your legs from shaking or your voice from screaming.

There's something covetous in his eyes, something animalistic in the way he fucks you. This round is just for him, and you can take it. You tip your head back, trying to arch your back. Ghost releases his hold on your thighs and grabs you by the back of the neck, folding you back onto his cock. "No, no, sweetheart," He rumbles, leaning to press his forehead against yours, "told you, you gotta take it. Show me how a proper slag gets fucked."

Somehow this angle makes his thrusts more precise, and you truly cannot move to try and escape. You can hardly breathe, his cock fucking all the air out of your lungs. His pace just keeps getting faster, and you can see the way sweat sticks to his brow. You dig your fingers into his biceps, his thighs, anywhere you can try to get a grip as everything starts to hurt too good. You let out a squeak as the heat compounding in your stomach drips out of you. A slow trickle of orgasm that breaks into a flood on the next stroke of his cock.

It's worth it the way he growls when you clench and flutter around his cock. Ghost's thrusts becoming sharp and uncoordinated as he groans out his own orgasm. He rocks his cock into you more gently, letting your greedy pussy milk him before he lets you go to pull out. You feel like a rag doll, the way you drop and splay on the bed to shiver.

You turn over onto your stomach in an attempt not to slide off the bed as you get your bearings. Ghost is quick to scoop you up and deposit you against the pillows, the condom tied off and tossed towards the trash. You're once again moved, positioned how he likes so Ghost can pull you against his chest. You sling a leg over him and cuddle close. He smells like sweat, musky in a way that makes you want to drag your tongue along his collar.

"Twenty minutes," He tells you roughly, "I'll talk about anything but work." You hum, occupied with dragging your fingers over his squishy pecs. He flexes a little and you tip your head to look up at him.

"What?"

"We still got a dozen condoms, no sense takin' 'em home." He raises a brow. You think you're getting better at reading him, you think he's smiling. The offer is light, but sincere.

"Long as I can walk in the morning," You smile. He tips his head, like he's thinking about it.

"We'll see."

When you wake up in the morning it's to a pounding at the door. You grumble and sit up to check the time. You're alone in bed, but the shower is running. Good, he hasn't left yet. Around round six you decided you were getting Ghost's number in the morning, maybe asking him out to breakfast, perhaps even dinner. The clock says six but your brain says it's ass o'clock and whoever is banging on the door needs to gtfo.

You drag yourself out of bed and swipe Ghost's tee from the floor. A souvenir, and a nasty habit you've picked up. You root around for a pair of panties and manage to tug them on as the shower shuts off. You're making your way for the door when Ghost pops out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist. You don't have time to admire the way drops of water trace over his back, or the way his hair sticks up at odd angles. He opens the door and leans against the jam.

"Dinnae dae that," Another low voice fills the room, there's something familiar about the accent, "Ya ask for a wakeup call, ya dinnae get ta glare at me."

"You're early," Ghost grumbles.

"Aye, was just so eager to see yer face LT." You pad behind Ghost and peak around his shoulder at the man in fatigues and an army green tee. You could recognize those eyes even if you didn't still feel his smile like an arrow through the heart. Icy blue in a way that makes you think he's from a different planet. Though you know it from your time in Glasgow.

"John?"

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bunnysdaydreams · 8 days

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18+

Headcanon that when you first start dating Ghost, he’s fucking silent when he finishes.

He’s used to jacking off discreetly in a bunk, so it’s pure muscle memory that limits him to a few shallow breaths huffed quietly between his teeth as he grinds his release into you.

Left to his own devices he probably wouldn’t think twice about it, except that shit isn’t going to fly with you. Those agonized gasps and grunts are the reward, thank you very much, and you did not just give him the sloppy toppy of his life, only to have them withheld.

At first he kind of laughs it off, reminds you that you have neighbors and such, and it’s inconvenient to be having loud sex for no reason.

Right, uh huh.

So the next time he goes down on you, you make sure it’s quiet enough that he can hear his own breathing as he works his mouth on you. You know, for the neighbors.

Surprise, surprise, he doesn’t like that very much.

He doesn’t need to put on some kind of production, you remind him. Just… loosen the leash a little. Let himself do what he needs to do, focus on the feelings instead of the control. He could be yodeling at this point and it would be an improvement.

So the next time, you get a little something. A few breathy, deep vocalizations that make your heart flutter into your throat. You make sure to tell him how sexy it sounded, how it made you feel desired to hear him enjoying himself. It’s how things are meant to be.

It only gets better from there. You can tell he’s really letting loose when his gasps turn a little higher in pitch, a little more pained sounding. Shower sex is even better because the slight echo has his orgasm permeating every part of you, so raw that you swear you can feel it yourself. Brilliant, you fixed him! He’s a moaning machine now, even before he finishes.

And then one day Ghost gets back from deployment, and you can tell he’s peeved at you from the way he strides in.

“What?” you demand, wracking your brain for any possible thing you did wrong.

“I forgot to be quiet.”

You frown for a second, trying to grasp the context, and then your face cracks with a poorly suppressed smile. “Oh… baby.”

“Calling me ‘whiny wanker’ cause of you.”

Aww. Isn’t that just too bad?

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bunnysdaydreams · 8 days

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Simon 'Ghost' Riley Breeding Kink Headcanons

Content disclaimer:

Smut,

Breeding Kink,

Unprotected sex,

Aftercare,

Fantasy logic in some places,

Female Reader

Masterlist

Reader discretion advised. You're responsible for your own media consumption.

A primal part inside of Simon wants to breed you so badly. At first he's not 100% sure about it, but after finding out you're also into it, he's so reassured that there's no going back.

It's not only the pregnancy part that excites him, possessiveness also plays into it. He feels like he's claiming you while breeding you, making all of you his, and his alone.

Has a long conversation with you about it before getting into it however, to make sure both of you want this. The best part might be the process, but the results have to be agreed upon.

Promises to be there for you every moment you need when you've finally conceived a baby. He knows it's a huge responsibility, even if he enjoys pumping you full of his fertile cum, he's going to be there all the way after the funnest part is done.

Saves up his cum for a couple of days for the first session so he can pump you so full of it that you're leaking for hours.

He can't wait for you to bear his children. Stomach becoming more and more bloated with his baby, tits growing larger and fuller with warm milk.

Prepares you beforehand by going down on you. Sucking on your clit while fucking your wet, quivering cunt with two of his huge fingers, stretching you out nicely. If you don't cum at least twice, he thinks he's not doing things right. Orgasms help with conceiving after all, so he not only gets to pleasure you, but it also heightens the chance of his seed taking.

Gets rock hard just by thinking about cumming inside of you, getting you pregnant. Thick, long cock throbbing, impatiently waiting to be inside of your tight pussy. Tip red, dripping plenty of precum. Balls heavy, full of his hot, virile cream, waiting to fill you up.

Starts calling you mommy and baby momma teasingly from now on. Really wants to drive the point home.

Mating press. Puts you in that position every session at least once. It's his favorite. Perfect angle to hit the most pleasurable spots inside of you. It also enables him to go balls deep, angry tip kissing your cervix and his tight balls smacking against your ass at every thrust. Just loves absolutely pounding you into the mattress, thrusting so hard you start drooling and tearing up.

Another favorite of his is when you're riding him. This is usually the first position when you start. He gets to hold your hips and watch his dick disappear inside your warm, wet cunt while your tits are bouncing right in front of his face. Sucking on your breasts every once in a while, don't worry, he didn't forget about them. When you get tired, he doesn't change positions, he just lifts you up by the waist and thrusts up into you roughly, basically manhandling you.

Loves watching the ecstasy on your face from what he's doing to you. Can't get enough of it.

He can go a bit too hard, pelvis roughly snapping against yours, but never to the point of hurting you. He could never do that.

Cannot go just one round with you. He has to make sure all of his semen is emptied out inside of you and one round is just not enough for that.

Don't hold back the noises you make, he adores hearing them, gives him more encouragement to keep going harder.

Loves hearing you beg for his fertile cum. He will make you beg for it at the beginning. Makes him reach his climax faster. "You want my cum inside of you? You want me to fill you up? Beg for it."

Keeps going until he's all tuckered out and shooting blanks, balls empty. Even if you're tired, completely cock drunk and you think you can't go any longer, he knows you can. He has to go as long as he can for the highest probability of impregnating you, and you just have to take it. "You're a good momma, yeah? You can take it"

Goes as deep as he can when he's cumming. His girthy cock throbbing inside your tight pussy while his balls are squished up against your pelvis, pumping all he has to give deep inside your womb.

Makes the prettiest, deepest moans and groans when he finishes. He can't hold his noises in sometimes, especially if you encourage him to let his voice out.

Keeps himself inside your overflowing hole for a bit after he cums. When he pulls out, he's enamored by his hot, steamy load dripping out of you, making an even bigger mess of the sheets underneath you. After he's done admiring you, he will push all the thick cum he can back inside. "Can't waste all the precious semen now, can we luv?"

He knows it doesn't do much, but he still puts a pillow under your hips so that part of you is higher up. He likes to think it helps his seed go deeper inside of you for a higher chance for pregnancy.

After checking whether you're okay or not and nothing hurts, he brings you some water so you're not dehydrated. He doesn't want you to strain yourself.

Either he gives you a bath, cleaning you up nicely or he wipes you down with a soft rag gently if you're too tired to move, all the while still making sure most of his essence is kept inside of you.

After you're completely taken care of, he lays you back down on your back onto the bed after changing the damp, ruined sheets. Lays down next to you on his side, caressing your cum filled tummy gently, whispering into your ear. "You'll be such a good mother. We'll make the cutest babies."

The demons took over-

I'm sorry if there are any grammar mistakes.

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bunnysdaydreams · 8 days

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18+ MDNI Virgin!Fem!Reader Your first time with Simon

He gently lays you down on the soft white sheets of his bed, “Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asks to ensure your certainty, “Yes, Simon. I'm sure.” you nod reassuringly and softly smile at him. There's nothing you’d rather do than to have this experience with him.

He settles between your divided legs, “I’ll be gentle, dove.” he coos softly before kissing your lips and caressing your hips to calm your nerves, “I know, love. I trust you.” you murmur as he slowly pulls away. There is no doubt in your heart and mind that he would never harm you in any way.

He takes his rock-hard cock in his hand and pumps his throbbing shaft a few times before lining up his leaking tip at your glistening folds.

You gasp at the slight touch, the unfamiliar sensation causing a surge of burning anticipation in your core.

“Ready, love?” he asks, always so careful with you, “Yes.” you breathe out and he locks your lips together once again before pushing the tip inside slowly, swallowing your soft moan.

He pulls away slightly, whispering against your lips, “You ok?”, “Yeah. You can go on.” you say, your burning need for him seething deep within you.

And he obliges, thrusting his thick cock deeper inside your tight hole, stretching out your warm sticky walls, the squelching sound of your pussy being split open on his fat cock making your cheeks heat up.

You wince as he pushes past your hymen, your walls slightly clenching around him, causing him to let out a rasped-out moan.

“I'm sorry, love. I know it hurts. Just relax for me, yeah?” he mutters as he stills his movements immediately after your reaction and meeting the sudden resistance of your tight walls, pecking your cheeks lightly and kissing your lips.

“O-ok, Si.” you say as you try to relax your resisting walls, “Take your time, baby. It's ok.” he croons beside your ear, softly kissing your earlobe and tracing your jaw with his lips as he massages your hips and pets your thighs to soothe your ache.

He feels you slowly loosen up, no longer preventing him from going on and looks you in the eye, awaiting your approval until you nod.

He slowly pushes deeper inside you as far as your walls allow, this time your warm walls welcoming him in, pulling him in and swallowing him whole.

And you both moan in harmony as he settles deep inside you, where he truly belongs.

“Hmm... need you, Si. So badly.” you hum against his lips, “ ‘m right here, love.” he responds with a languid roll of his hips, making your lips fall open in a quiet gasp.

“Ah-ahh... feels so good, baby.” you mewl. He feels huge inside you, yet so delightful. And the difference in your sizes is only even more visible now that his body covers yours completely, engulfing you in his arms.

“Please move...” you plead, grasping his biceps and tightening your legs around his waist, urging him to go on.

He continues his deep lazy thrusts first so you could adjust to his size and the new feeling, his eyes fixated on you to keep aware of your reactions, his primary focus only your comfort and pleasure.

“You look so hot right now, Si!” you breathe out between hiccups and moans, “Yeah?” he smirks, “Yeah, so fucking hot...” you say with a wide grin.

“Harder please!” you plead as you feel the flaming desire for more, “You sure?” he asks with furrowed eyebrows, “Yesss pleassseee!!” you beg, “As you wish, love. But tell me if it hurts or if you feel uncomfortable even a little bit, ok?” he asks you, “K, si si!” you reply playfully, making him chuckle at the nickname, “... you bloody minx!” he mumbles under his breath.

He grabs your legs and throws them over his shoulders for better access resulting in a gasp to escape your mouth as the newfound angle hits just right deep inside your sensitive walls.

He plunges his fat cock inside your gummy walls wildly, moaning and groaning into your ear, droplets of sweat forming on his forehead and dripping down the strands of his bleached hair.

He dips his head to see the way your bodies connect and rests his palm on your belly and gently pushes as he notices the visible outline of his cock buried deep inside you.

Your eyes tear up and you grasp his arms tightly, digging your nails into the mass of muscles while mewling and whimpering so sweetly in his ear as he fucks you so so good, reaching far and deep inside you, hitting your spongy cervix and making your eyes roll back as the delicious sensation courses through your whole body.

His lips latch onto the soft skin of your neck and shoulder, leaving purple marks in their wake as he senses the rising need to claim you as his own.

He lifts his head from your shoulder to face you, gradually discovering your points of pleasure by your reactions as he goes on, balancing between the contrasts of fucking and making love.

And his breath hitches in his throat at this sight of you, how beautiful you look in this moment, fucked out of your mind and drunk on his cock, brain cloudy and your mouth hanging open as you look into his adoring eyes with nothing but sheer pleasure burning in your eyes and written on your face, the heavenly image forever engraved in his mind.

Your eyes are locked onto one another, waves of emotions streaming through you both as he brings you closer and closer to your apex of pleasure and you can barely make out the words to announce that you’re close, absolutely lost in the feeling, lost in him.

Your back arches off the sheets and you gasp out a high-pitched moan which blends with his low growl, creating a beautiful symphony of love and passion as you both dive right into the ocean of pure euphoria, its raging waves enfolding your bodies and overwhelming your senses.

He releases his hot load inside you, shooting ropes of thick cum deep inside your womb and your white cream coats his cock, dripping down from the sides onto the sheets.

He rests his head on your shoulder, both panting heavily, out of breath from the all-consuming orgasm that took over your bodies.

He wraps his arms around you as you both lay down peacefully while he remains inside you, the sweet feeling too good to pull out yet.

And you sigh contently as you come down from your peak, you have always felt safe and protected in his arms.

You both giggle as he kisses you lovingly, “That was amazing, Si. Thank you.” you say, “No need to thank me, love.” he retorts, but can’t help the proud smile forming on his lips.

“I love you.” he murmurs, “I love you too, baby.” you whisper back as you pull him in for yet another sweet kiss.

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