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weirdnlusty​.

Isaac whined.

He whined, and then he whimpered, and then he groaned, collapsing against Daphne’s body, face first. His forehead rested on her stomach, his hands on her hips. He tried catching his breath, but each inhale brought more of her scent, more of her warmth into him, and all that did was worsen his state, tighten her grip on him, allow her to claim even more real estate in his consciousness.

And truth be told, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Would he have liked to say something just as sexy as she had? Would he have liked to spring into action right away, determination matching his appetite? Of course! Of course, but her effect on him was so complete that that is what his response was, crumbling against her beneath the weight of his desire, and he wouldn’t change it for the world–because it was honest. That was what she did to him, and, while he was often embarrassed by how terrible his poker face was, how easy he was to read, in that moment, he was grateful for it, because it meant Daphne knew exactly how he felt. And he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

Eventually he got his legs back under him (figuratively, of course, as he still sat on the edge of the bed, refusing to move away from her at all), but it took a while: each breath, again, was a struggle, and the more she played with his hair the weaker he got. Still, he managed, because he had a job to do.

He sat up straight and looked at her, then shivered, then nodded. “I think so, too, Mommy,” he agreed, nodding. Calling Daphne “Mommy” was new–but then again, this entire affair was new. It was a whirlwind, and Isaac was the Wicked Witch of the East, except he gleefully signed up to be crushed by a house built with Daphne’s attention, affection, and appetite. In her presence he felt more alive than he’d ever been and about as close to death as one could possibly be and still enjoy it. Their tryst was an Olympic gold medal figure staking routine performed on the event horizon of a black hole. What awaited on the other side was unclear: oblivion, good or bad, Isaac couldn’t say. All he knew was that he wanted to stay right there.

Right here, against her. “I can do that.” He kissed her bare stomach. Once, twice, three times. His hands slid down her hips and cupped her bare ass (well, bare save for the sliver of lace between her firm cheeks). Isaac didn’t have enough time to truly appreciate the sight of Daphne in her lingerie, but he was glad she interrupted because, really, there would never be enough time. When he first saw it, when she first revealed herself to him, he nearly fainted. He couldn’t have sketched a more effective portrait of what the perfect fantasy woman for him could have looked like, even if a psychic managed to get into his mind and organize all of his myriad thoughts, from the surface level to the deep ones he didn’t even know he’d had.

His grip on her ass remained firm as he kept kissing, eventually up her body, between her gorgeous, perfect breasts, until he was standing. They were face to face, sharing breath, and it took his entire resolve to stay standing, for his knees to not give beneath her gaze, but he managed it because she was right: good boys did what Mommy asked.

“But I’m going to need help,” he sighed, his eyelids fluttering closed behind his glasses as his lips ever-so-lightly brushed hers. One hand stayed where it was, while the other passed quietly over her skin, finally passing over her bra and trailing a finger between her cleavage. “Can you help me? Can you get me nice and wet so I can fuck Mommy’s titties the way her good boy should?”

♡

“That’s my good boy,” she cooed. Daphne had hardly moved beneath Isaac’s touch--her breaths were few and shallow then, caught beneath the stifling weight of her arousal. To say that she relished in that lewd monicker was an understatement. Mommy made her want to fuck him stupid, to make him sing and pant and empty every bit of his load in her aching cunt. In his palms, Daphne melted and revealed to him someone so much more like herself. He brought it out of her: that mind-polluting hunger and the ceaseless torment that was her lust.

Elsewhere, her heart was beating violently; thrashing, and thrumming, and threatening to tear itself right out of her chest. He was so handsome; so captivating, and strong, and close. Her hands ran over his chest as he rose to face her, his each and every peppered kiss further stoking the fire that burned hot in her core. Unable to resist, and not wanting to, Daphne brushed her fingertips over his nipples teasingly, self-indulgently, before canting her chin up for a kiss.

Her lips were warm and vanilla-sweet against his own; so, too, as they kissed along the sharp edge of his jaw. “Of course I can help you, baby,” came a whisper at his ear, followed by a light nip. “I love getting my big boy’s cock wet and ready for me.” Then, as if to prove her point, Daphne licked a hot stripe up the side of his neck and moaned into his mouth when she kissed him again; hungrier this time, more fervent and wanting to savor him and the taste of his tongue.

It couldn’t last forever, though: her mouth was needed elsewhere and Mommy had missed the taste and feel of her good boy’s cock. She snaked her hands between their bodies and hooked her fingers over the waist of his pants, pulling him along with her as she stepped back and away from the bed. Excited, buzzing, and ridiculously wet between her legs, Daphne hummed before finally, and unfortunately, breaking their kiss. “I want you,” she breathed out, her lips slick as they brushed against his own. “And I really, really want that good boy dick in my mouth.” 

Slowly, Daphne lowered herself onto her knees with a smirk and started palming Isaac’s bulge languidly, cupping and rubbing his thick cock right over the expensive fabric of his pants. “Are you gonna give it to me, baby?” Daphne looked up at him through her lashes then and bit down on the swell of her lower lip—open, playful, and hot for cock. “Are you gonna give me that good boy dick?”

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“i’ll kill you.” are we about to kiss 

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I get it, I’d be obsessed with me too.

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OSCAR ISAAC 📷 by Guy Aroch ESQUIRE (2022)

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Oui Magazine August 1973

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for @weirdnlusty​.

“Would you... do that to me?” 

Daphne’s voice was as light and airy as her trailing touch and colored by the knowing smile on her lips. Of course, she already knew the answer to that intimately; she just wanted to hear him say it, to watch him grapple and blush and squirm from the heated grip of desire that clutched them both. 

Her hands coasted along the soft skin of his shoulders and continued to knead them tenderly, reassuringly, as if to milk the inhibition directly from his flesh, before sliding them upwards toward the nape of his neck. There, standing between his legs where he sat at the bed’s edge, Daphne curled an umber tress around her finger and canted Isaac’s head back gently, exposing his countenance to her fully. No hiding, she thought. Not from each other and certainly not from this.

This, being the lingerie she’d so carefully picked out: a bright and sunny array of pale yellows, mid-tone oranges, and golden hues; a smattering of embroidered daffodils, sheer lace, and satin accents; cups which pushed her breasts up and covered just enough to keep her from spilling out. Elsewhere, delicate little bows adorned the satin straps that held up her thigh-highs and the ultra-feminine wrap of tulle that was her garter belt, leading down to the high leg cut of her strappy thong. Daphne had wanted him to feast on it: to touch and feel and indulge to his heart’s content. 

“Because...”

Slowly, she closed in on what little space remained between them still and held his face just inches from her ample chest. If not for the fact that she knew she wouldn’t have been able to stop, she would’ve leaned down and kissed him. Instead, she opted for something just as sweet: the brush of her thumb along his jaw and the side of his cheek. There was no mistaking it then: Daphne’s face warmed with her unyielding want, painting upon her cheeks the true depths of what she felt. 

“...I really think Mommy’s tits need a good fucking by her good boy, don’t you?” 

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darkenedxsights​.

Isabella couldn’t have planned the evening better if she’d have tried. A small step in reconnecting had been so full of bliss, but now, getting ready to cosy up with the other on the couch, under a blanket that had once been a gift from her to Daphne, well, that small step was coming on in leaps and bounds, a night so full of smiles and laughter that had come so easily was one she never wanted to end. She wouldn’t start thinking like that though, she was in no rush at all to leave.

“I guess it depends on what you’re talking about.” She hummed with a playful smile, taking the glass from the other, allowing her fingers to brush against Daphne’s, lingering just for a moment before she took a seat, their bodies somewhat pressed together, as if there were so little space on the couch, when in fact she wanted to be as close to the other as possible. “My taste in blankets, or my taste in devastatingly beautiful redheads, though I’d have to proudly say my taste in both are impeccable this evening.” Once she’d laid the blanket out over both of their laps, Izzy slipped her arm around the back of Daphne, her hands resting so gently upon the others shoulder, her fingers rubbing soft little circles. “Is this okay?” Her voice much softer now, wanting to make sure everything that happened had the other feeling comfortable.

♡

Devastatingly beautiful? Daphne tittered then ducked her head abashedly. There was no hiding then: not with her body turned towards Isabella’s and nestled snugly in her side. Still, that hadn’t stopped her from trying. In poor effort to mask her delight, she took a sip from her glass and stared down at her fingertips before mustering the courage to look back up. If she was devastating, then Izzy was striking—so much so that it’d rendered Daphne speechless; a feat that not many had ever managed to pull off. 

More than anything, Daphne wanted to be good. Good, and patient, and all of the things that would ensure their night went well. Sitting there, having succumbed to the fluttering feeling in her chest, it felt like the hardest, most arduous task in the world. “It is,” she finally replied, nodding along before halting to cant her head, as if a thought had only just occurred to her. “I mean... It’s impossible to think about anything else when you’re this close, but...” A cheeky, guilty grin bloomed across her lips. “That can’t be helped.” Quietly, and without looking away, Daphne placed her free hand on Izzy’s thigh and held her breath. “Is this okay?” 

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hiii.  consider indulging me with a thread involving any of the following ideas for daphne, please?  ( none of these are specifically or inherently gendered, even if it sounds like it btw. )  :

your character fucking her tits,

her using a strap on your character’s tits,

your character cumming on her chest, 

general breast - play, whether it’s directed at her or your character or both,

her + your character + this vibe, 

or anything involving a cum kink.

i can offer her main fc or an older alt, like jessica chastain, marisa tomei, or minka kelly.  you can use whoever you’d like.  gimme?  🤲

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CHERYL BLOSSOM RIVERDALE | Chapter One Hundred and One: Unbelievable

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oh of COURSE "miss"demeanor and murd"her" are illegal. just admit you hate to see women having fun....

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MARY ELIZABETH WINSTEAD IN ALL ABOUT NINA (2018)

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Are you a flirt?

i’m insane

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