#my mind is full of strip mines

[bargaintears]

i #dontusetwitter but have been live with someone who did for a long time how do i stop saying ‘slay’ and ‘pu$$y girl’ when it’s being written into my code

[gigi-loveless]

please please write abby with a super heavy breeding kink and her absolutely obsessed with the idea of marking and filling up ur most private spot <3

summary/warnings - doctor!abby, breeding kink abby asf 🤤, hair pulling, feral azz sex, calling abby mommy

authors note - it’s pulsing her full name in morse code. also, i’m thinking about starting a taglist so let me know if you’d like to be added!

“c’mere pretty girl…lemme have you…”

mere moments after abby enters from the wintry city into the cozy haven of your apartment, she’s already stripped of her coat and scrubs, encapsulating you into fiery kiss. nodding into her lips with approval, she manhandles you to the couch, not even able to make it to the comfort of your bed.

and of fucking course, she had her favorite light blue strap draped off of her toned abdomen under her clothes. her eyes go wide, as she takes in all of her perfect girl.

“worst fuckin day at work….js’ wanna breed this pussy like she deserves…” abby mutters, seams bursting as she feverishly yanks your clothes off, throwing them to the side. you yelp in response, as she scrambles down your abdomen to lick a long stripe up your glistening cunt. “s’fuckin wet….were you thinkin about me pretty girl?” she coos, dabbing at your entrance with her middle finger. the whine you release in response is nearly embarrassing.

“words, angel….” the blonde girl reminds, gazing up at you with darkened eyes.

“m-mhm…yes abs!” your thighs quivering against her shoulders as she approvingly laps at your cunt, throwing your head back in pleasure.

“nuh uh…look at me. look at me or i’ll fuckin stop.”

with hooded eyes, the blur of her blue eyes shooting darts into you from below becomes your only salvation. abby’s well built hands are perched on your thighs, keeping all of you exposed to her.

“abs…gna’…gna’cum…” you wail, tugging at her cascading braid, little locks fraying out.

“wait. wanna see you cum when i fill you up.”

and with that, she kisses your forehead, pushing your dampened thighs up to your chest, perky nipples pushed together.

“fuck…missed this gorgeous pussy….” she trills, bottoming herself out without warning. the squeal that erupts from you, she’s sure awoke the neighbors. good. “atta girl…need t’ breed this cunt so bad….” the blonde utters, clamping your wrists up above your head.

“y-yes! yes! abby….abby! abby! abby!” chanting her name like a prayer, signaling the band in your stomach going taut, she flips you over with her freckled arms, pulling your hair up to meet yourself at the mirror in the corner.

“tell-augh…fuck…beg me. beg me to breed this pussy.” abby demands, the grip on your hair tightening as she unsympathetically ruts into you, your juices flowing all down your thighs, dampening the base of her harness.

“p-please…” you obey, dropping your head down in embarrassment. she quickly reacts, yanking you back up to meet the sight of her ruining your body.

“keep looking or i’ll stop…slut.” your mind is going fuzzy, pleasure taking over all of you as she scratches deep, pink lines down your back.

“please, pleasepleaseplease…please mommy….” you gurgle, abby thrusting impossibly harder at the mention of her new pet name.

“don’t worry baby…mommy’s gonna fill this cunt so fuckin full….that what you want?” she seethes, “you wanna get all swollen with my kids?”

“m-mhm!! s’close abs!!” you cry out, her nimble fingers finding your clit, rubbing in swift circles.

“cum….shit!” she yelps as you clamp around her glistening cock. “cum fr’me pretty girl….gonna get you pregnant. this is my fuckin pussy….only mine…” the grunts that enter the air signaling her incoming orgasm as well.

with a wail of “mommy”, you pulse around her thick cock, as she growls “get pregnant…get pregnant…” over and over as the band in her stomach snaps closely after you.

vision still hazy, abby carries you to the bed, laying you down and giving you as a quick peck as she disappears into the bathroom, coming back with a damp rag. seething as she presses the cold fabric to your core, the girl rubs your stomach gently.

“oh abs, you don’t have to do all that.” you giggle lazily.

“s’my job. gotta take care of my girl….shh, shh…i gotcha.”

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[aemnd]

ʚ gif credit. ɞ

𝒶.targaryen. ┆ it's a craving, not a crush.

◟ ㅤᡣ𐭩ㅤㅤ ݁.﹒ jus' a lil' smutty n fluffy aemond drabble. !!! 🧸♡ྀི

jus' imagining prince regent!aemond coming into your shared martial chambers, all irritated, furious, and aggressive-- startling your sensitive heart slightly, so unlike the stoic yet kind, brooding yet a complete gentleman whenever he was in your company—his sweet, darling little wife—quiet yet cannot help himself by always whispering sweet nothings into your ear, enjoying the way you're always so shy and get so easily flustered around him still, even after many moons of marriage already.

still, the aemond in your martial chambers right now seemed different, not like his usual self-- or rather, not like when he was with you; a gentleman, but always ravenous for you, well-mannered for a targaryen prince of the royal blood, yet dangerous and cruel to anyone else who wasn't you, his mother or his sweet, beloved older sister, helaena.

overall, the aemond standing before you now, it was a totally different side to him, standing there with his large fists curled tightly, white knuckled and glaring into the void with that one-eye of his-- and it hits you right there and then, you have never seen aemond upset, much less so furious, nor had aemond allowed himself for you to come to know or see him when he's like this, not wanting to frighten you away, especially during your courtship days.

aemond always knew you’d be his lady wife someday, it just took some… persuasive words from the young prince, which was said in his usual soft, velvety drawl, nearly sounding bored as he spoke to your oafish father while you were off dancing with your sisters a few steps in front of aemond, having him order you to stay close by to him that entire evening, and of course, you obeyed so prettily, like the precious princess he knew you were born to be.

yet, the threat in his words were clear and final that night at aegon and helaena’s wedding celebration—your daughter is mine, she always has been mine, wed her to me and mayhaps i won't burn the entirety of your house down to ashes by dawn, hm?

"my love? are you quite alright?" you question sweetly, so innocent and with the purest, gentlest of intentions, and that is why not even a full two minutes later, you find yourself with your knees pressed up against your heaving breasts, stripped completely nude, with your beloved husband on top of you, pounding into your sopping, quivering little cunt, fucking you over and over and over again.

"fuck," aemond grits out, his narrow hips snapping into the backs of your smooth, plush thighs, that were lathered with a sweet vanilla oil that had your husband go nearly feral every time you pass by him, or when you're hanging off of his arm during court in the afternoons and banquets like the beautiful, sweet little doll that you're.

"tightest fuckin' cunt-- by the gods, woman..! you will be the end of me," he says through his panting, chasing his high and yours, needing his release that he's been craving all day, instead of having his mother yapping in his ear about politics and the like, but all he could focus on was you-- and stuffing his face in between the softness of your gorgeous thighs, to taste the sweet nectar that lies between, just begging to be kissed and licked and fucked full of his cock until your tiny cunt is gaping and your womb is full with his seed.

"doing s'good for me, sweetling," aemond coos into your ear hotly, panting harshly and dripping with sweat, his skin fiery to the touch-- and oh, how you loved getting burned by him.

blood of the dragon, indeed.

you whimper meekly, looking up at your husband all weepy and cross-eyed, pleasure consuming you whole, overwhelming emotions clouding your already hazy mind, making you babble mindlessly, deliriously moaning like a silk street whore.

"soon... soon, you'll give me an heir," aemond husks breathlessly, making your cunt clench erratically, which earned you a crazed chuckle from aemond, watching as he threw his head back in pure bliss, high off of your willingness to be his perfect little wife, all obedient and ready to receive her husband's seed.

"yes, i know, my love... i know, you just want to be a sweet, obedient little wife for your husband, don't you?" he taunts, a mocking yet amused smile curling upon his curved lips, which he then bends down again, focusing most of his attention all over your bare bosom, your breasts heaving and little nipples hardened from your arousal-- but aemond doesn't mind, immediately suckling on one of your puffy nipples, making it nice and wet and swollen, creating claiming marks all over your breasts as his hips continue to brutally snap into you, rutting and bucking into your wildly, making you wail girlishly and squirm beneath your husband.

"a-aemond...! please, p-please, i am about to−" aemond clicks his tongue, stopping your speech and tutting with disapproval shining in his amethyst eye, the sparkling sapphire gem that was stuffed into his left eye socket shining maliciously, a warning to tread carefully for what you're about to say.

"does my wife wish to come on her husband's cock?" aemond purrs, now rolling his hips every time he enters you, making tears fall from your pretty, doe-like and lustful eyes, all misty and dreamy with desire and love for your sweet, beloved aemond.

"please, aemond-- i want to come on your cock, please," you beg with a small whine, desperate and needy to reach your own release already, especially with aemond having edged you by eating your sweet little cunny out for nearly an hour before finally fucking you with his cock, after you had begged and pleaded him to.

continuing to listen to your sweet, desperate pleading, aemond smirks, before swallowing your loud, feminine moans into his mouth, devouring you and tasting you, thrusting his hips into you faster, faster, faster-- signaling for you to reach your peak as he fucks you even harder and even more mean than before, giving your overstimulated clit a few harsh slaps with one of his big hands, and perhaps your husband was a bit too cruel, or just obsessed with making you his, but you're too delirious to notice as he finally leans down and quietly gives you his permission for you to come for him.

"come for your husband, now," he whispers deeply, possessively, making you cry out and cling to him like a newborn babe as you finally get to lose yourself in your ecstasy.

aemond targaryen was many things, most of them cruel… a kinslayer, some common folks say a madman, many say a cold-blooded killer, a man with a blackened heart and a hunger for blood and violence-- however, aemond one-eye was never one to deny his wife anything, no matter the consequences.

[user211201]

Modulated

--- Original author: realhankmccoy ---

“I ain’t no motherfuckin’ redneck, you assholes! Don’t you fucking get it? I’ll never be ok with you being here and disrespecting our gay spaces!” I had shrieked and screamed, and I was being sassy as fuck. But they had darted me, so it was too late for me already. I had been one of the hottest little twinks in Colombia back then. I had such a tight little body, I was non-binary, and I was supportive of my local drag scene. I was absolutely into resisting these fucking fascists and their goddamn bullshit lifestyles, which I couldn’t stand.

That’s how I thought of it all back then, anyhow.

Man, that dart though, it had done its dirty work. I was writhing on the floor of the club, so I didn’t even get to witness the way it transformed me as I went into spasms. It was almost like having a seizure, but I could feel the muscle growing on me, and I could hear my shrieks and wails shift in pitch as I grew on into this whole new, far more masculine body.

I was getting to be built like a brick shithouse really fucking fast, and was taking on more of a mature look. Everywhere I was getting more muscle. I was splitting the seams of my jeans, and my underwear, and felt my back pressing up and splitting my tight pink t-shirt.

When I finally was able to sit up, I was in a daze. I had rendered my clothes asunder. I had bristles of hair all over my face, and the har on my head had grown longer, too, sort of flopping in my eyes. I was a mess.

And then the headache came. I was clutching the sides of my head and moaning, almost screaming in pain out loud, as my twinkish mind collapsed and got replaced by a growing part of me I didn’t even know existed. That part, my friends, is the motherfucking, take-charge redneck stud I am today.

My friends helped me get out of there, and I was still in transition. It takes a good seventy-two hours at least until you can fully collapse one of those weak-ass brains like the one I had before and until a more dominant, superior personality takes over like the one I was starting to get.

So yeah, like I said, I was a mess, and when my friends got me back to one of their apartments, I was still sporadically ranting about how dare those fascists do this to me, they’d never win, this was fucking awful. But as I heard myself talk, there was a growing part of me that was observing myself and thinking “so what? You sound like a raving lunatic. Look at this body! Damn, boy, just look at that muscle!”

Sleeping on it, man, that twink brain of mine must have collapsed even further. I woke up and I just wanted coffee with a splash of alcohol in it, so that’s what I got. Then I added two splashed. I had already stripped out of my shredded pink t-shirt, and my friends had some loose boxers that fit me, but I was just this naked, muscular stud in awe of his own body and trying to come to terms with who I was now.

I was seeing my friends with new eyes, too. They seemed anxious to me, weak, full of nervous, overly feminine motions, jittery, immature, skittish and mostly just kind of fucking annoying. “Those are your friends,” I’d remind myself. “This isn’t you who’s thinking this.”

But that growing part of me was thinking “This is you. This is all you, stud. You’re so much better than them. They don’t even know you’re thinking this, and if they only knew, they’d probably be terrified.” That thought made me want to laugh out loud, so I did.

“What are you laughing at?” one of them asked.

“Oh, nothing man, nothing,” I said, looking away and scratching my head. “These are your friends,” I told myself again, but I didn’t really seem to believe what I was trying to tell myself that morning. “So what if they’re your fucking friends,” my new mind was saying. “They’re fucking losers, man. Don’t let them drag you down. You ought to just get out of here.”

That morning, I was feeling just hornier and altogether more fucked up than I’d ever been. I was thinking, nah, this can’t be the new me. I’m no motherfucking redneck. I don’t think like them. But already I was feeling excited, having this body, having these different feelings, realising that I didn’t feel like such an evil guy like this, not like I thought I would, anyhow. All I wanted to do at that point in time, I felt like, was get the hell away from these people. I didn’t know to where. I borrowed some shoes and a t-shirt that was so tight it hurt, pleading that I had to get back to my apartment. It felt like the shoes would split, and the shirt was riding up on my belly, as I trotted back to my place.

I didn’t know what I was doing or what I was gonna do. When I got home, I felt thirsty, just wanting to drink a little, feeling like that would make this feel better, even though I told myself no, you have to compose yourself, you have to call people, you have to report this. Just one drink, I thought. It turned into shot after shot, and before I knew it, I was drunk, hard in my boxers, having kicked off the shoes and thrown that tight-ass shirt on the ground as soon.

Then I was beating off, and cumming, and the build-up to that orgasm, man, it flooded my brain with some real redneck juice. I wasn’t thinking of the type of guys I usually did. I was thinking about redneck studs, studs like myself, feeling the drool run down my chin as I beat off. As I came, shooting way up on my pecs, rubbing it in with my hand, I was whispering to myself, almost like a confession that I had yet to voice to anyone, “You hot fucking redneck. Holy fuck, you love this, don’t you. You’re a redneck now. Holy fuck. Holy fuck.”

The desire to live for working out and fucking was already growing in me.

Thoughts were just racing through my head then. I knew I didn’t want to be some lame-ass yuppie or some weak-ass queer, man. I felt this powerful attraction to the redneck scene, the working class scene, the country scene, the military scene, the jock scene, you name it, any scene were men were men instead of the glitter fairy I had been before. I couldn’t quite pin it all down at that point yet, but my thoughts were sure racing.

Can you picture me, getting drunk in my apartment, turned on at my own body and swirling thoughts? And then I started to really know, man. I started to know. There was no going back now. The guy I used to be was a loser. I didn’t want to be him anymore. I was pissed off that I ever even was him.

I walked barefoot into the bedroom, checking out his stuff in the drawers and on the walls. Almost none of it would even fit me anymore. His feminine attire and the way his shithole apartment was decorated disgusted me. It made me want to punch the wall, even, so I did that and it felt good. I saw the paint crack and the drywall cave in. This new body had power.

I screamed then, a roar of pure rage and exhilaration. I punched the wall again, and it felt so fucking good that soon I was ripping all his shit off the walls and throwing it in a corner, ripping that flouncy shit off the mattress and I didn’t stop, screaming the whole while, until the bedroom at least look bare bones enough to resemble something a man would want to sleep in. I’d be damned if I ever let that loser back into this mind.

There were a few flashes, sure, and man was he a crybaby as he went out, as well as one hell of an angry little prick. Lots of hatred in his heart. I’d just laugh and say, “Fuck you!” sometimes out loud as I felt that twink brain collapse forever.

And now, as far as I’m concerned, he’s gone man. No longer a part of me, thank God.

I was nervous at first, when I started trying to hang out with guys I thought I’d have a lot more in common with that my old friends. Would they accept me? I was pretty desperate for acceptance at that point. I starting hanging out at a diner that I knew a lot of them liked to frequent, classic diner that pre-dated even the 1950s, a real antique. But these sexy ass guys would show up there, and soon we got to talking over waffles and hash browns.

Soon I was telling them I was darted, and they were saying that was hot as fuck, wanting to hear the story. Soon I was telling it to them, my legs in the air, sweat dripping down my bearded chin, as I was getting fucked.

Months after that, I was almost fully integrated into the lifestyle, man, and soon I was the one doing more of the fucking, especially after I got these sweet-ass tattoos all over my right arm. Getting fully into it, the desire to be that all I could be as man, hell, it ran in my veins now. I was going to let those commies know that I was better than them in every single way imaginable, and I wanted to show it off. I still get hard just at the thought of that, demonstrating my own superiority in the most tangible – well, to them, intangible, because I don’t want them even fucking touching me – methods available to me.

Yeah boys, it meant war for me, just like it had when I was a stupid twink, only this time I was playing for the other side, and it was chess instead of checkers.

Of course, there’s a lot more to life than just that for me, namely having hot-ass sex with all sorts of country studs and military men, hell, being part of that whole network of strong and powerful men who worship and respect other guys who’ve worked for it. I feel like I’m serving my country and being a paragon of virtue for it even when my legs are slung over some guy’s bull neck and thick, rounded deltoids as he plows the fuck out of me with his long-ass rod.

I had never gotten fucked this good when I was a twink.

I do real work with myself now, a man’s work. I dress like a man, I eat like a man, and I live my life like a man. I’m fucking proud of it, too. I love who I am now, and relocated to the other side of town, too, where the action’s hotter and I have way more in common with most folks.

I am sure glad I’m a buff stud with a thick-ass chest these days, and I don’t ever go clean-shaven. Been really into guy’s pits lately, and getting them to flex for me so I can lick those. Yeah, shit, I’ve gotta stop, because here I’ve got a raging boner just telling you all about that right now. I swear I’m way more horny than I used to be. At least seventy-five percent of the time now, I’d bet, I’m a top these days.

I don’t really like bottom boys, either. Their mere existence tends to piss me off, to be honest, so when I do fuck them I tend to be an aggressive power top. A lot of the time I don’t even think of it that way, though. I just think of them as so weak that the same rules don’t even apply to them. Different rules, in a way, because they’re a different kind of guy than me. Much more like women, unable to control themselves, you know how they are. I used to be one of them, and I’m so glad I’m not anymore, that’s for fucking sure.

A lot of the time I prefer to just fool around with guys such as myself. I love topping another top, having to wrestle somebody for hours in a strength and dominance competition. Gets the blood flowing. I like somebody who puts up a fight. C’mon, son, do you have any idea how fucking fun that is for me now? To meet up and hook up with another guy who’s just as manly as I am? That’s the stuff I live for now. I’m ready to just fuck my life away with hot ass guys at this point.

So, yeah, I’m a top who loves to wrestle with other tops and see who can dominate. I must be pretty good at it if I swear I’m scoring a seventy-five percent these days, but that’s just because occasionally I throw in some twink losers. Yeah bud, even some of these leftists get thrown a bone by me every now and again. They need us, and I like them to know they need us. They wouldn’t know what to do without us.

One of these days, I might even check with one of my army friends and see if I can come along on a mission so that I can dart one of them myself. I think I’d laugh my ass off when my dart goes in his neck or his shoulder, wherever it his him. Just to see the look on his face, shit boy. That could turn a guy on just by imagining it, so one of these days I’ll have to make it legit.

Fuck if I care about the loser I once used to be or what I’m supposed to be doing with my life. My life is better now and that’s all that matters to me.

Hot-ass guys, man. That’s what I live for.

[highdefhoetry]

tipsy invitation.

cw: nsfw!! gentle femdom, bondage, oral sex/blowjobs, mild sensation play/tickling

summary: inspired by rafayel's veiled whispers five star memory. things get a little steamy after the two of you break open the red wine.

word count: 1508

The faint sound of rustling of ribbons and soft, quiet grunts echo through the empty house as you stand before Rafayel. The lights are dim. The atmosphere is set. Your head is still spinning from the red wine you had an hour or so ago, but not enough to take you away from this moment. 

You weren’t sure if the red ribbons would hold out or if Rafayel would break free as soon as you finished tying the knots, but as you stood there admiring your handiwork, you saw how they held tight despite his constant wiggling. The chair he’s sitting on shakes a bit, but for the most part it looks like he really can’t get out of it. His playful expression slowly turns to one of slight panic, his cocky demeanor slowly falling away.

“You haven’t even started unwrapping me. Am I just gonna be thrown away like that?” he whines, pulling his arms a bit as he leans forward. You can tell he’s still trying to keep up his unshakeable facade, but you could see right through him. You were going to strip him of every layer, until he had no choice but to sit in front of you bare and vulnerable.

You lean forward and rest your hands on his knees.

“On the contrary. I’m going to take my time unwrapping you.”

Your fingers undo the buttons on his shirt, exposing his soft, pale skin. You trace the tips of your nails along his collar bones, causing him to shudder and gasp.

“...h…hey…”

He’s trying hard not to react, but you know this is his weak spot. His ears grow redder and redder, his expression becoming more strained and desperate. The corners of your lips curl up as you speak.

“What’s wrong? I’m giving you the attention you wanted, right?”

He stifles another sound, barely holding it together. All that talk, just for him to crumble at one touch. He was an absolute treasure. One you were going to plunder.

“This isn’t… what I had in mind…”

“Too bad,” you sing, grabbing the rose sitting prettily beside his chair. “You don’t really have a choice now, do you?”

You brush the soft red petals against his ear, just teasing him a bit to remind him of his current helplessness. He gasps again and flinches away.

“...You’re good at catching people off guard.”

You giggle in response, then brush the flower against his bare collarbone. This time he actually shrieks.

“(Y/N)!”

“Yes…?”

“...Can’t you be more gentle?” he whines, pouting ever so cutely. It almost makes you want to show mercy. Almost.

“I’m being as gentle as I can,” you paint a trail from his collarbone to his neck, then back around his ears. “You’re just too sensitive.”

“Aahhh… nnngh… hngrh!”

Rafayel has been reduced to pained grunts and breathy whimpers. Seeing him get all flustered from such a light touch stirs something inside you, something feral. You discard the rose, wanting to feel him with your own hands. Within seconds you’re straddling his lap, your ass resting on the tops of his thighs while your arms drape over his shoulders.

“Poor little fishy. Already so flustered and worked up.”

“As if…” he chuckles. “It’ll take a lot more than that to break me.” 

His brattiness seems to have made its comeback in full force. He mirrors your smirk, a small glint of mischief in his eyes. Clearly you’d gone too easy on him.

You take his chin in hand, gently pulling it up while running your thumb across his bottom lip.

“Good. Because I want to play with you for a long, long time.”

You start to grind against his hips, feeling a certain stiffness beneath you. His low grunts turn to soft moans as you press against him, moving forward and back in a steady rhythm. You push your thumb into his mouth and moan from the softness of his lips and tongue. He sucks it obediently for a few seconds before you pull it out. 

“I’m very pleased with this new toy of mine,” you say, lacing your fingers in his hair. “He’s exactly what I wanted.”

“Are you sure you’re satisfied?” he whispers in between breathy gasps. “If needed, you could do a slow, thorough inspection. Make sure everything’s functioning the way it should.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

You don’t wait for him to answer. Your hands suddenly grasp fistfuls of his hair, gently yank his head to one side. He gasps, then lets out a small yelp when your lips press against his neck. His skin feels warm, its reddish tone matching the blush on his face and ears. You start off slow, simply kissing the sensitive bare skin, then when you think he’s gotten used to it, you begin sucking and licking with as much softness as you can muster. The whimpers and cries coming out of him are to die for. He moans in falsetto, splutters out half-formed sentences in between sharp, hitched breaths.

“...Aahhh! (Y/N), please… ohhh…”

You drink in his sweet, tittered noises until you’ve had your fill. When you finally pull away, you see a flurry of pink and red lip-shaped marks on his neck where your lips had been. 

“Oh, dear. This won’t do,” you coo as you stroke each mark with your fingers, making him shudder a bit more. “I suppose I won’t be able to return you now.”

“Urgh…” he twitches at every touch, trembling as he tries his best to keep his composure. He’s breathing heavily, his brow and bangs are damp with sweat. When his eyes dart away from yours, you grab his jaw once more and use a bit more force to bring his gaze back to you. His wide, sparkling eyes stare back at you with an amalgamation of emotion. Anticipation. Adoration. Maybe even a hint of fear. 

“I’ve heard there is a very special feature with this kind of toy,” you whisper, leaning forward to press your lips against his chest. “Shall I do some exploring and find out for myself?”

He can only respond with fluttered moans as you kiss down his chest, lingering on his soft stomach. His muscles twitch as you kiss each of his defined abs, and his hips start thrusting the closer you get to his belt. You slide off his lap and crouch down in front of him, staring at the present waiting for you between his legs. Feeling bold, you undo his belt and zipper, giving him a chance to protest. He never does. You tug at his waistband, pulling it down as much as you can, revealing the white boxers under his pants. His dick pulses and throbs beneath the white cotton.

You start off with just one finger. There’s a small, clear stain already, and you smother the urge to tease him about it. Rubbing the tip of his member forces out more strained moans; you feel him throb harder and push himself upwards, as if begging for more. 

There’s a slit in the middle of his boxers, perfect for sneaking your hand inside. You grab his shaft, smile when he lets out a desperate cry before leaning forward to take him in. Your lips envelop the tip, suck gently while his whimpers increase in volume. You wait until you hear him beg to continue.

“Come on…” he groans. Your hand tightens slightly around his shaft.

“You know the magic words,” you tease, licking the length of his cock from balls to tip.

“Hngrh…p…please…”

“Please, what?”

His frustration grows. You can tell he’s nearing his breaking point. His face is crimson red, his eyes are squeezed shut, his muscles tensed against his ribboned bonds.

“Please… keep going…”

You kiss his cock and praise his efforts.

“Good boy.”

With that, you take him into your mouth, sucking him in a steady motion while your tongue dances around his dick. His moans are loud and airy, like a beautiful siren’s song luring you to demise. You start to lose yourself in the act.

It doesn’t take long for him to finish. Maybe a minute or two, maybe shorter. He lets out one last high-pitched cry, then an explosion of cum fills your mouth. You feel his cock pulsing inside for a few more seconds before it’s over. You swallow his load, then give his pretty cock one last kiss before standing up.

With a smile plastered across your face, you lean forward to start untying the knots in the ribbons that keep his arms and legs bound to the chair. However, as soon as your hands reach down, you feel something grasp your arm firmly. When you look back at Rafayel, he’s grinning at you with cheeks reddened and hair sweaty and disheveled.

“Wait, when did you…?”

“There are all kinds of escape methods you can learn online,” he winks. 

“You little…!”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he wags a finger in front of your face. “Such profanities won’t do. Besides, I think it’s your turn to be unwrapped…”

[moonsaver]

A dance, A death, A dream,

for humanity slumbers for the final rest, and dreams after the final rest.

➸ On the neverending stage of Penacony; there lies a mysterious masquerade that serenades those whose dreams stretch further than the expanse of the night sky. In this masquerade, the marble floor extends infinitely, and the windows are dimly lit by the full moon. Several hands extend to you. Whose do you take?

➸A/n; NOT IN CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER AS TITLE SUGGESTS. my writing's gotten a bit rusty, and this is majorly inspired by the Acheron and Black swan dance. Please read it with a grain of salt. 2.2k words. Yandere themes, gn reader but they're implied to wear heels, so just yassify your self insert. Bad writing because I've been out of it for so long.

—————

A death

Scars, calluses, and a plethora of secrets remain buried on and under the skin of Blade's hand. He gently and firmly guides you out of your seat, and into the centre. The grip of his hand is firm on your waist, and the warmth seeps into your skin.

“I've seen you, many, many times..”

He whispers into your ear, as the music begins. The rasp of it sends chills down your spine, forming a few goosebumps along the way.

“We've scarcely met.” You reply,

“In my dreams.”

You stay silent. He continues,

“The long thread of destiny lingered around you. Our souls were tied.”

He turns you, and pulls you in again, your back pressed to his front. He leans down in an instant and whispers into your ear again,

“You waited for me.”

The clicks of your heels coincide with his agile footwork.

Blade remembers the same dream, played over and over in his mind. The bite on your jugular, the hand over your nape, the red blood staining his teeth like wine.

“You didn't leave.”

Your heart picks up. You close your eyes for a momentary relief that never comes. You feel your body tense, and your lungs slightly constrict.

“I.. didn't mean to.”

His grip only further tightens on you, and he pulls you in closer. The spinning almost leaves you dizzy, or perhaps it's something else?

“You left. Intentions seldom matter.”

“I know. I'm sorry.”

He stays quiet. His hands make gentle work, and gracefully guide you through the steps.

“those threads.. all came together and formed a tapestry of us.”

There were a multitude of them, although more monotone in nature. White occasionally graced the vibrant red thread, but was sooner stained with a murky black the further it went, infecting the red with its impurity. The vibrancy dimmed to a dull, dreary maroon.

“Some of them..”, he continues, his rough fingers snake around your wrist, bringing it up to his lips, where he tenderly kisses the inside, “..were tied around your wrist.”

“Around your waist..”

You turn again, your back presses into his chest momentarily,

“Braided into your hair,”

He pulls you in, leaning close into your face, to the point your noses almost touch,

“..wrapped around your throat.”

To you – it's like the dance halts for a moment. Something wrong happens.

His tone is warning, bubbling over the edge,

“You were mine.”

He turns you again, and roughly pulls you in, knocking your breath out of your lungs. Your shocked eyes meet his.

“You are mine.”

Your heartbeat thumps loudly in your ears. Blade pushes you around, almost mocking the gentleness and grace the dance is supposed to exude, stripping it of it's vulnerability like the harsh snap of a bear trap over the tender leg of a rabbit,

“I've pined, longed and stained you. I've ripped you apart and put you back together. Do you think it matters whether you left intentionally?”

Your lungs struggle to fill completely, you almost stumble from the harsh and swift movements Blade forces you through, and you stutter trying to get any word out, 

“Yingxi–! Wait!”

He pulls you in one last time, your face buried into his chest,

“You can not leave. Not anymore.”

The music halts to a break.

The dance stops.

His breath fans over your neck, the constricted space between you two rebounding the warm air. His teeth graze your jugular.

“Our flesh is tied. Struggle all you want, but we are intertwined further than dried blood over a wound.”

And this is how it is meant to be. Your hand on his weakness. His mouth on your heart.

The music starts again.

—––––––

A dream

Sunday's familiar gloved hand wastes no time wrapping around yours. He flashes you a smile as you give him a look.

“There are far too many spectators present tonight.”

You sigh, and smile.

“Of course. I'll do my best.”

“Thank you. As will I.”

His hand settles on your back, settling into the slight curve, and you straighten up, muscle memory kicking into action.

“Tonight's crowd mumbles and scatters to mystery as a moth akin to a flame. Dreams are not enough to quench their curiosity.”

The dance starts, and you relax after the first few steps, synchronising effortlessly with him,

“However, tonight's realm extends far beyond a dream.”

This was new.

Sunday always answered your questions about Dreams in a shapeless, vague manner. He often said it was to protect you.

This time, it was a warning.

“How so?” You ask. You don't expect him to go beyond surface level.

“Prime System Hours are during Midnight. A beautiful time.” He gently turns you, and brings you in,

“And why is that?”

“At this time, dreams become heavy. The memoria is dense enough to tear the thin membrane between reality and illusions.”

His wings slightly flutter. You feel almost hypnotized.

“The Dream realm and parts of The Reverie merge and collide. It bizarrely stabilises the lavish, shared dreams.”

You blink at him, slightly confused.

“And at this time, it is also easy to awaken from one's dreams, or sleep too deeply.”

You suck in a breath. A vision flashes into your mind.

Sunday stands across the empty ballroom. The candles are blown out. The windows creak with the gentle air of the night. The deathly pale light of the moon illuminates the side of Sunday's face.

Wake up? Sleep? Dream?

You breathe out, almost as if your soul had been snatched out of your body and harshly shoved back in. 

“Guests confuse their dreams and reality. They believe it's time to awaken, when reality seems pleasant, and dreams become bitter. Memories and presence blur together in an incoherent puzzle.”

He swerves you effortlessly, muscle memory keeping you from stumbling. But this time, your mind feels hazy.

“By the time they feel their consciousness return, they've already deeply penetrated into the dream realm.”

You blink again, and you're back at the same place. Except, this time, Sunday is closer. He takes your hand, and pulls you in. The emptiness of the ballroom is almost frightening, especially due to your confused and hazed state,

“As to whether they've woken up or not, relies solely on their ability to distinguish Reverie and the Dreamscape, which blurs more with the effect of the memoria.”

His voice echoes in your head with clarity, but your eyes blur the two figures, the contrast inducing dizziness in you to the point where you're afraid you might even fall,

“As for you..” He continues, golden eyes gently grazing over your confused and hazy expression, a smile stretching out onto his eerily perfect face,

“It's not time to decipher that yet.”

The silhouette of Sunday's fingers snap over the pale backdrop of the moon.

You open your eyes.

Sunday is standing before you with a warm smile. The candelabras are still burning. The crowd applauds you two. You breathe heavily, unsure of what has happened, your body suddenly zapped of energy, exhaustion straining your muscles.

“You seem to have overexerted yourself.”

Sunday's gloved hand trails up your back to your shoulder, guiding you gently back into the crowd, towards an empty table.

“Come now. The dust of this ballroom may be dulling your senses.”

Dust?

You blink for a moment, head slightly hanging as you collect yourself.

Sunday breathes out an ‘o’, and then chuckles softly.

“Do not mind it, dear”,

Sunday eyes the creaking windows. It has been a while since they were repaired. The room may need to be renovated. The dust on the floor is reminiscent of all the people that one witnessed your first dance with Sunday. The lack of it was always a reminder of your time with Sunday, the dust clinging to your heels instead. He stares towards the empty hall, where you dream of an everlasting dance.

“It is my mistake. I was thinking about something else.”

–––––———

A dance

“What makes you think I'd really want to dance with you?”

You ask, almost disgruntled. Rightfully so, too. The blonde man had been continuously pestering you throughout the night, asking you to accompany him. For a dance, a walk through the garden, a visit to the food table. Finally, he'd asked you to strike a bet with him, if it meant you'd at least spend an iota of your time with him and solely him.

“I have my ways, you know?”

His agile fingers flick and swerve a coin between his hands, tossing and turning it skillfully. The tablecloth slightly crinkles under the movement of his arms,

“I'm not betting, by the way.”

You say, pausing for a moment to confirm if he's listening. His eyes are intent on yours. You continue,

“If you have to go so far just to dance with someone, aren't you better off just giving up?”

Your gaze lands on the coin for a moment, and you continue watching it with interest. At some point, you force yourself to look away from the coin he was toying with, and take a sip of your drink. You lean back into your chair.

“Like I said, I have my ways. What I really want from you after all this time.. isn't it tempting? Don't you want to know?”

He tosses the coin into the palm of his other hand, and encloses it, before opening it. The coin vanishes when he opens his hand. Mirroring you, he leans back into his seat, although his body language is much more open than yours.

“making bets is easy, isn't it? But it's more trustworthy than pulling a few strings behind your back, right?”

He gets up, and languidly walks over to you. He leans down slightly, his sunglasses slightly skewing enough so that his vibrant Signoian eyes bore deep into yours.

“And for you.. I've thought about an offer that's taken me a while to cultivate. Join me for a chat on the Balcony?”

You think for a moment, and hesitantly ask,

“..Why not talk here?”

Aventurine only casts a side-glance somewhere in the distance.

“Prying eyes, sweetheart.”

He extends an open hand to you. You slowly place yours in it, with a self-assuring sigh.

-

“Penacony's relationship with the IPC has been quite bitter. Even our reception wasn't ready to welcome us.”

The air of the night sky was cold, forming subtle goosebumps on your skin. Various clinks and muffled conversations could be heard from behind you, the glass door blurring the view of everyone inside. 

“Not even my friends were allowed to enter the dreamscape except me. How lucky, right?”

He says, sarcastically. His eyes continuously gauge your face for any expression and hint as to what you feel.

“You’re a little too quiet.. am I not interesting enough for you?” 

You stay silent for a bit too long. Aventurine knows what you're going to say next.

“Listen, that night..” you start, your voice gradually softening at the remembrance of the memory,

“Don't.” He cuts you off.

Neither of you speak. You open your mouth to, but close it after being unable to decide on what to say.

“I mean, you don't have to remind me.” His languid tone returns, but you don't believe it was the same as before.

“I know everything ended that night.. I didn't think you were so averse to blood.”

You stare at the bubbles in your drink, rise slowly from the bottom of your cup to the surface, and pop. You don't know when, but the background of joyful conversation and ballroom music fades into distant screams, ones that have haunted your dreams ever since then. Aventurine continues,

“It won't hurt to.. act one last time like it used to be, right? Just for one night. It's a masquerade, and everyone hides who they are for a moment's time of detachment. Their past, their decisions, their mistakes. All of it is buried for a single night.”

You hear the shuffle of his stiff jacket as he moves closer to you, hesitantly moving your gaze to him as you steel yourself.

“Just one last time. For old time's sake. As lovers from the past.”

His hand extends out to you. His other hand is behind his back, his grip tightening over a coin.

Heads, or tails?

You take his hand with a sigh,

“Just once. Never again.”

Aventurine smiles. Luck has always been on his side. If it works well, then your expectations will never be honoured. His greed is fatally more important to him than your wishes. It won't be the last time, as far as he's concerned.

The coin shines under his palm, the moonlight creeping through the gaps between his fingers hitting the metal just right, but neither of you catch the glint. Your eyes are trained onto the main floor, and his are trained onto you. The coin decides both of your fates.

And Luck has always been happy to write it in his favour.

—————————

[calware]

Can I ask you for what it is about Hal you like so much you based your username on him? I think he's a good character tho he was never a favorite of mine so I am curious

1. i am a big fan of robots (/robot adjacent things such as AI) on like... an aesthetic + thematic level :)

i like the look of machinery and one day i hope to be artistically strong enough to make really cool and complex robot illustrations + designs [shoutout to everyone who gives him glowing circuitry btw... ooooh glowey :) can never go wrong with that]

plus, exploring the idea of a person that isn't human.. ough. yes

minorities who don't conform to society (easily or at all) such as people who are neurodivergent, queer, etc. projecting onto nonhuman concepts/characters/species is sooo real

this post

i also love how humans will bond with literally anything, be it a roomba or a pair of silly triangle sunglasses. oooooo you want to think about the inherently kind and compassionate nature of humanity oooo

2. i find him to be so funny. i can't get enough of his personality, the way he talks, etc. for example i made a post forever ago with quotes of his that i find funny. he isn't on screen for a long time but i really think he makes the most out of it lol. he's literally there just to annoy everyone... and i love him for that. he's very snarky while also being deadpan while also being completely full of himself, and not in a way that's annoying for the audience to read, at least to me.

he is also sometimes funny specifically in a silly way, like how he keeps making over 9000 jokes even though the meme's been dead for over 400 years. i just find his dialogue incredibly entertaining to read

3. he is red and red is my favorite color :)

4. he is so accidentally transgender [every friend group got the transgender allegory]. to quote me from 2021:

you know sometimes i think about how hal feels like he was made to “replace” dirk and how it’s his literal job to pretend to be dirk and how he has to learn to accept that he isn’t dirk he’s his own person with his own identity and as he interacts with dirk’s friends he feels like they’re disappointed and that they’d rather speak to the “original dirk” instead of him and also he names himself and also he feels literally trapped in dirk’s shades which is basically his body and he wants to be prototyped so that he can have a body that’s his own and also literally the physical manifestation of who he is but when he asks for it he’s put in danger out of fear and paranoia and when he does end up getting prototyped he’s ecstatic you know i just think about these things a lot

5. because he's a side character and he was given... that ending.... there is a lot of room for fans to do further exploration and interpretation on his character which i think is fun. i like rotating him around in my mind, thinking about what could've been

6. i think it's great that we as a society all collectively decided that we needed to do something to make up for stanley kubrick saying that hal 9000 was a "straight" robot

7. i also think it's great that we as a society all collectively decided we needed to make as many characters referencing hal 9000 as possible. i love this guy let's get more of this guy i will never have enough of this guy

8. i like how he's genuinely mean sometimes. flawed and interesting characters are what make homestuck so interesting to me, and hal is no exception to this

9. the Important part of this post:

THERES FEELINGS.

it's about the hollow feeling of your friends going from thinking of you as family to thinking of you as a stranger in an instant. it's about still trying to be a good person despite being told by everyone you've ever known that you are incapable of emotion and compassion and morals and never quite finding proof that you do feel those things and maybe you even believe it too but you still never stop trying. it's about the horror of being stripped of your autonomy and humanity and body and senses and free will at the age of 13 and when your creator starts to kill you there's nothing you can do but beg. it's about a boy so truly, painfully, and UNFATHOMABLY alone he cuts away chunks of himself and molds them into companions that he can surround himself with to make it seem as if he's a little less alone but in doing so suffocates himself in his own identity. it's about "what if you cloned yourself and it killed you and you were dead and you were alive and the clone is you and it's not and your existence is perpetuated and you've ceased to exist. what if you killed your clone before it could kill you. would that be fucked up or what" it's about the thematic significance of twin motifs. it's about not being able to cry or laugh or dance or sing or scream or fingerpaint or breathe or sigh or chew or stare or run or

10. um. evil robot guy <3 yay ^_^!!

[niphredil-14]

Hey babes!! I was wondering if you could maybe write a Jason Todd x reader where the reader gets hit on by a stranger, which leads Jason to become somewhat jealous and a little possessive (a healthy amount of course... 😭). Reader wears a necklace with a J on it which he specifically points out to stranger to sort of prove a point that they are indeed taken, that's when he sort of leaves them alone.. Jason on the other hand has a lot in store for reader, specifically in the bedroom.. breeding kink??? Sorry, my mind is all over the place right now 😭

Sorry it's my first time writing a request I don't really know what I'm doing.. but have a great day!!

Sorry this took so long to write, I've been struggling with writer's block, burnout, and some mental health stuff, also my job sucks ass and is super draining. gotta love retail, huh? anyways I hope you enjoy and also sorry that it is so short. I am trying to clear out my inbox on a random boost of motivation so that I can move onto accepting requests for a new fandom!!

White was creeping into the edge of their blurry vision, and their hands, placed against the full body floor mirror for some semblance of support, were shaking about as much as the rest of their body. Their feet had been kicked apart so that Jason could stand between them as he pistoned in and out of their hole, a rough ebb and flow giving them chance to catch their breath. One of his hands rested on their hip, and the other one on their shoulder. They had been stripped entirely, except for a simply, dainty necklace hanging around their neck. The charming J pendant rested just between their collarbones, and was being forced to swing away from them before falling back onto their clavicle, like a single pendulum taken from a Newton's Cradle and being left to swing alone.

"You look so good like this, sweetheart." Jason drawled, his Gotham accent made thicker by his arousal as he left the 'arr' sound in 'sweetheart' to hang in the air, separate from the rest of the word's syllables. "Such a shame your friend from earlier won't get to ever see you like this, since you're all mine." A whine left their throat as they tilted their head to the side, letting it fall limp. He could feel them clench around him. "Oh, you like that, huh?" He asked, though it sounded more like a taunt. "You like bein' mine, dollface?" His teasing only grew more eager. "You like belongin' to me?" They let out the most pathetic sounding whine of affirmation, which was met with a dark chuckle from their lover, followed by the index and middle fingers of his hand, sliding from their shoulder underneath the chain of the necklace, and pulling it into their neck, until their skin puffed out around it. The sigh they let out was pure filth. "You're so fuckin' desperate to be mine, I'd bet you'd let me breed you right now."

"Fuck! Please, Jay!" They called out, and his hips stilled. He tugged the necklace a tiny bit more, and leaned so that his head was next to theirs, their eyes met in the mirror, and Jason parted his lips.

"Are you sure, hon? 'Cause I will, and at that point, there'll be no goin' back, you know? I'd fill ya until I was sure it took, and then I'd go out and buy you a ring first thing in the mornin.' You sure you want that, Y/n? For us to have a family? For you to really be mine, forever?" They nodded breathlessly. "'S not enough, Darlin,' I need to hear ya say it, I'm not gonna take any chances here." His voice was rushed and breathy, and with all of his emotion, his accent made him near unintelligible, but they knew him, knew what he was asking for. They turned their head, fighting against the necklace cutting into them near painfully, and moved one of their hands off of the mirror to place on Jason's cheek.

"I'm sure, Jason. I want to be yours completely, I want it to be us forever." The softest smile graced his face, as his eyes became visibly glossy, and releasing the necklace, letting its pendant rest gently on their skin, he moved his head down to slowly kiss them as he began to move his hips again.

I meant for this to be kinky I swear, I fully blame my shitty day for how fluffy this is. lmk if you want me to write another where its rougher or something.

[tikosblogg]

Pt 2 of this BestFriend Noah OneShot.

Warning: Smut! MDNI 18+

A/N: so sorry if this seems rushed! It’s 1 AM and I am going to see Limp Bizkit tomorrow so I won’t have time to work on it!!! I hope you still enjoy!! ❤️

“Or what?.” I could feel my pulse racing in the temples of my neck, my breath hitched as his gaze hung on each curve, tracing my silhouette as if he were trying to memorize every inch.

When he finally turned to face me, he brought the heat of the moment closer, hovering just inches away. His hands found their place on the countertop, caging me against the cool surface while his body anchored me in place. The proximity felt intoxicating, and for a moment, the party turned into a distant echo, dulled by the tension crackling around us. I swallowed hard as my mind raced, nerves twining with desire.

His head tilted slightly, a gesture that seemed to strip the air between us bare. His eyes found mine but drifted to my lips—full, inviting, betraying every thought I was trying to suppress. I licked my bottom lip out of nervous habit, and Noah's gaze flared with something primal. It sent a cascade of shivers racing down my spine.

The seductive tone of his voice sliced through the haze surrounding us, deep and low, piercing through the clamor of laughter and music: “You wanna find out?”

It was an invitation wrapped in challenge, the air around us thickened with unspoken promises. My breath hitched; I was thunderstruck, caught in the weight of the moment. I could feel my cheeks heat beneath his stare, and it took every ounce of will not to blush as I tried to gather my thoughts, coax down the rush of anticipation welling inside me.

“What if I do..?” I asked, my voice playful but laced with a seriousness that danced on the edge of daring.

He smirked, a slow, teasing grin that showed off a hint of mischief. “Then I have every intention of showing you.” The intensity of his stare deepened, and the playful banter faded as something deeper thrummed beneath the surface, something that felt larger than the confines of this kitchen and so painfully close.

A challenge, a question, an unspoken dare lingered between us, suspended like a fragile thread. The tension pulled tighter, and I could feel myself leaning closer, drawn in by the undeniable magnetism that hummed in the air.

“Please..” I breathed, and as the word spilled from my lips, my pulse quickened with the possibilities held in that simple phrase.

Noah's expression shifted, certainty infused into his features as if he’d been waiting for this moment. Slowly, he leaned in closer, the warmth of his breath mingling with mine, and just as his lips brushed against mine, his hand landed on my thigh, sliding up and under my dress. My breath hitched, suddenly being aware of the many people around us. His hand reached my hip, as he played with the waist band of my underwear.

His lips met mine, there was a delicious ache that filled every empty space inside me. I whimpered, the sound muffled against his lips. His breath hitched as he groaned, and suddenly the world around us faded into nothing.

He pulled away just enough to grip my hips, lifting me off the counter and onto my feet. My heart raced as he grabbed my hand, leading me through the crowd, weaving between bodies swaying to the pulsating rhythm of the party, his touch igniting my skin.

As we ascended the stairs, adrenaline shot through me with each step. The anticipation built, mingling with the heat of his palm around my wrist. We reached his room, and he slammed the door shut behind us, the sound echoing in the cavernous space. Before I could catch my breath, he was on me again, pinning me to the door, his mouth crashing against mine.

The kiss was hungry and fierce. He shoved his thigh between mine, and instinctively, I began to grind against him, sensations flooding my body as desire blossomed. Every moment felt like an eternity, our bodies igniting with a need that was palpable.

He pulled back, looking into my eyes with a mix of urgency and hunger that made my heart flutter. Without a word, he took my hand again, this time leading me to the bed. My dress rode up my thighs as I landed on my back, the cool sheets contrasting sharply against my heated skin. He climbed over me, a predator in control of his prey, and I felt breathless under the weight of his gaze.

His lips found their way to my neck, kissing and nipping at my sensitive skin. I gasped as he marked me, each kiss a possessive claim. Every lick and bite sent sparks racing through me, lighting up every nerve ending as I surrendered to the intoxicating tension building between us.

“This is what you wanted, right?” he murmured against my neck, making me shiver. There was something electric about the way he spoke, filled with an intensity that matched the heat radiating from our bodies. I felt my pulse quicken, my breath hitching as the rhetoric hung thick in the air.

“Yes..please” I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible as he peppered soft kisses along my collarbone, igniting a fire deep within me.

His eyes darkened as he pulled back, eyeing me intensely. He pulled the top of my dress down, letting my tits fall free for him. He groaned as he reached up and firmly squeezing them. I arched up into his touch, as he leaned down wrapping his lips around my hardened nipple, sucking softly. My hands slid up into his hair, tugging it.

He pulled away, a small smirk covering his lips, as he reached down and slid my underwear down my legs. I was panting at this point, as his deep voice filled my ears. "You look so pretty in your new dress baby" I whined at his soft teasing. He grabbed my dress pulling it the rest of the way off. "But I want to see all of you."

He tossed my dress to the floor, his eyes scanning over my bare body, begging to be touched. He grabbed my thighs pushing them up and apart, as he looked down at my drenched pussy. He slid the tip of his middle finger into my tight hole, before running it up through my folds, dragging my wetness up to my clit and circling it slowly.

My thighs shook, and I moaned out as he just watched me. When I opened my eyes, his almost black ones were piercing into mine. His bottom lip was tucked between his teeth, as he bit it hard. I groaned, reaching towards him and grabbing the hem of his black jeans.

I quickly worked them open, sliding his zipper down. He let out a sigh as I pulled his boxers down, just enough to release his painfully hard dick. My eyes widened at the sight, as I slowly stroked him. He was long, and scary thick.

Before I could say anything, he shoved two fingers deep inside me pumping them hard. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll make it fit.” I threw my head back, moaning as his fingers continued fucking into me. He dropped to his knees, pulling me to the edge of the mattress, burying his tongue into me.

“Fuck Noah!” I yelped, fisting his short hair into my hands tugging hard. He groaned into me, flattening his tongue and dragging it up my folds. I couldn’t help but watch him. His eyes met mine, as he softly flicked my clit with his tongue, his eye dropping down into a wink.

The sight was unholy. Noah pulled away making me whimper, before crawling on to the bed beside me. “Sit on my face baby.” My eyes widened, and my cheeks turned pink. I was gonna protest, until he spoke again his voice almost a whine. “Please baby, I need you.”

I hesitantly nodded my head, slowly crawling towards him. When I got close enough, he grabbed my thigh, pulling it over his head until I was hovering over him. I lowered my hips, just enough where he could reach. He leaned up, running his tongue through my folds over, and over.

My hands gripped the top of the headboard, as I rutted my hips against his tongue. Trying hard to keep myself hovering, so I didn’t suffocate him. He sucked my clit into his mouth, as his hand came down, swatting my ass hard.

My breath hitched, as I was caught off guard, and his hands found my hips, pulling me down fully onto his face. “Noah!” I gasped, going to lift back off of him but his grip tightened on me not letting me move. I finally gave up, grinding my hips against his mouth.

He moaned underneath me, as his blunt nails dug into my ass cheeks. Not long after, I finally released all over his tongue, as he swallowed down every drop. He pushed me off of him, and I landed on my back. He was quick to rid the rest of his clothes, climbing on top of me.

He gripped my throat, bringing me into a sloppy kiss. “You’re so fucking perfect baby.” I whined, pecking his lips once more before he flipped me over onto my stomach.

"I need you, right now." I shivered at the urgency in his voice, the raw need that thrummed through his every touch, his body covering mine. I could feel his dick pressing against my thigh, and I arched my back, silently begging him.

"Please," I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't need any further encouragement. With a low groan, he positioned himself at my throbbing cunt and slowly, pushed inside. The feeling was almost too much, the feeling of him filling me up, stretching me out.

I cried out, my fingers clutching the sheets as he began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful. Each one sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body, making me writhe and moan beneath him. He fisted my hair, pulling me up, and back against his chest.

"This pussy was fucking made for me." He murmured, his breath hot against my ear. "So tight, so perfect. Right baby?"

I couldn't form a coherent response, my mind lost in a haze of bliss. His other hand came down smacking against my clit, as he growled in my ear. "Answer me."

Noah's pace quickened, his hips snapping against mine with increasing urgency. I could feel the tension building, the coil of pleasure tightening inside me. "Yes! fuck Noah yes please." And then, with a final, earth-shattering thrust, I shattered, my orgasm washing over me in waves of ecstasy.

Noah groaned pressing his forehead against my shoulder. "good fucking girl." He wrapped his arms around me, to keep me against him. finally reaching his high, his body going rigid as he spilled himself inside me. We both fell to the mattress, tangled together, our hearts pounding, our breath ragged.

"Noah..." I started, but the words caught in my throat, unable to do justice to the intensity of what we had just shared. What did this mean? My brain already overthinking everything.

"I know," Noah breathed, his voice low and hoarse. He pressed a gentle kiss to the back of my neck, his arms tightening around me.

We stayed like that for what felt like hours, basking in the afterglow of the best sex I've ever experienced. The night air was cool and soothing, the sound of the deep hum of the music downstairs.

Eventually, Noah shifted, rolling onto his side and pulling me with him. I snuggled into his embrace, feeling safe and content.

"I love you," he whispered, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on my skin. My heart soared, as I lifted my head, turning to face him. He wore a small smile, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. I placed a soft lingering kiss to his lips, before smiling back at him.

"I love you too," I murmured, and I meant it with every fiber of my being.

Tags: @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @livingdeceasedgirl @unlimitedlust

[guilty-ff]

Fading Shadows: Love and Betrayal pt.1

ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 ˚⁎⁺˳ .

Simon has been your boyfriend for nearly four years. Both of you being colleagues in the 141 task force, living with the dangers of a sergeant being in a relationship with a lietaunent. As Ghost departs on a mission to bring Makarov back, ghosting you for months and coming back as a different person, your relationship begins to crumble

Pairings: fem!reader, Simon Riley, König

Genre: mild angst

Tags: MW3 Spoilers, angst, ghosting, anxiety, arguing, break up, independent, death, kinda Asshole Ghost

It's been three months since your boyfriend Simon departed for the mission with his teammates to catch Makarov. You are a part of Task Force 141, but due to a bullet injury on your left shoulder, you were not allowed to join and requested rest.

You asked Laswell countless times for their status. Not a single message or tracking of the group can be found. Anxiety that something might have happened to the group and specifically your boyfriend begins to rise, and several sleepless nights have been encountered. You promised each other, before being recruited for any mission, to stay in contact.

You are currently lying in your and Simon's shared bed, taking small breaths of his shirt lingering with cologne, wishing each second to receive a sign of his wellbeing. Sure, you both knew what you were getting into when you decided to confess to each other and get into a relationship. Your friends and family, even your colleagues, warned you of a relationship in the military, but nevertheless, you and Simon frankly did not care.

The high ceilings of your bedroom are seeming larger than before. You feel as if you are taking up all the space. Every night is the same. Staring daggers into the wall until reality hits.

You hear a door squeaking and by the time you turn your back, you are facing your boyfriend in his tactical uniform, combat boots and skull mask. You have always loved his military uniform and the way it fits and contours his physic. Likewise, you managed to conceal your face with an agonizing smile. Hiding all the concern and emotions of distress you felt over the past few months.

Living with him for two years taught you that you needed to be patient. After each mission, he returns with a stoic expression and tensed muscles. Him opening up to you took him months, and you do not want to pressure him any further. You knew about his trauma, the things he went through as a child, the results of a childhood full of assault, and the way he copes with his problems. One of them is to lock them up and slowly open them one by one.

While you watch him stripping off his tactical gear and mask, you notice a different look in his face. An expression you cannot read or identify.

As he walks towards the bed, you are moving closer to his side of the bed and can sense the mattress sink and the bedsheets shift. You are wrapping your arms around his shoulders and snuggling up close. Both of you have always loved to cuddle and feel each other's body heat. But now, it feels much more distant and foreign. You shake off these thoughts, close your eyes, and hug him even tighter. 

In the morning, you were woken up by your alarm, you pull the sheets tighter around your body. Sensing nothing but cold air caressing your body. You open your eyes, trying to reach for your phone for a few moments before realizing that your partner is nowhere to be found.

You straighten yourself up and get ready for your morning routine as you find a little note on the drawer next to your side:

"I'm off to work"

Usually he wakes you up before leaving the house, but since yesterday, each habit has become foreign.

Even though your injuries have not healed properly, you decide to go to the base and start training. As long as you go easy on yourself and are careful with your stitches, you will find training to be a good alternative to ease your mind.

After arriving at the base, you see your team from afar sitting at the meeting table. Captain Price looks up, and our eyes meet. 

"Aren't you supposed to stay at home, Sergeant?" He asks, furrowing his brown brow and crossing his arms.

"You know me damn well, Captain. You can't expect me to just sit at home and do nothing. I'm fully rested and ready to take up my work, " I answer truthfully, with a wide grin crossing my face. 

My eyes are scanning the room. 

Looking to my left, there sits Ghost, cleaning his rifle with an old cloth, focusing to get all the dirt out of the muzzle before using it for the sniping training with new recruits.

At my right, Gaz is sitting at the end of the table, fully clothed and hooded, with a saddened appearance. The longer I remain in the room, the more the atmosphere feels suffocating, pressing the air out of my lungs. 

Counting each member of the group, I witness that someone is missing. 

"Isn't it past our meeting time? Where the fuck is Soap at? Always being late, isn’t he?" I try to laugh the depressed ambience off. 

Price's contentment look got plastered drastically into a painful expression on his face. 

Price hesitates before mumbling “K.I.A” 

“What did you just say?” I ask fully known what he has just said. You and Soap were not that much closer in comparison to him and Simon. Nevertheless, he was someone who brought positive vibes in the TF141, which was through all the bloody mission very much needed. Searching throughout the room for answers, your eyes are landing on Simon, who avoids eye contact.

"Makorov shot him in the skull while shielding Simon from Makorov shooting range, he truly died as a hero. In spite of that, we were unable to rescue him. It was an instant kill in action.“

"I could have been there. My shoulder were only aching a bit. I could have been of use-"

"No. Y/n you could have done nothing. The orders of the higher ups were final, and your injuries could’ve been a burden to us.“ Gaz interrupts understanding your moment of distress.

The news of Soap's demise hits you like a shockwave, the weight of grief settling heavy in your chest. Your eyes fixate on Simon, searching for any sign of emotion, but he remains distant, his gaze fixed on some distant point. The room's stifling atmosphere becomes unbearable.

As Gaz speaks about the circumstances leading to Soap's death, you can't help but feel a pang of guilt. The what-ifs echo in your mind, wondering if your presence could have altered the tragic outcome. Gaz's reassurance attempts to pacify your self-blame, but the guilt lingers.

In the days that follow, the once-shared apartment with Simon becomes a silent battleground of unspoken pain. Simon withdraws further, shutting out the world with a stoic facade, and you struggle to bridge the growing gap.

Attempting to salvage what remains, you confront Simon in the dimly lit living room. "Simon, we need to talk. This silence is tearing us apart. Soap's gone, but we're still here, and I can't lose you too."

As he does not speak, you try to calm yourself down and trying your best to be patient and understanding, when all of a sudden, Simon stands up from the couch and leaves you alone in the living room, taking his phone and ignoring you. A synapsis snapped, and all your build in anger, guilt and angst over the past few months exit your body.

"That's enough, if you don’t mind talking to me, alright I get it, if you keep ignoring me, sure enough, but if you do so, you should at least look at me while I'm speaking to you". I yank his phone out of his hand and make him lower his head.

"For fuck's sake, what the fuck was that for? Mind your own bloody business. Stop annoying me and keep out of it.“ he raises his voice at you, something he has never done.

Your frustration eruptes in a torrent of words, "Simon, you can't keep ignoring my feelings and opinions. It's like you live in your own world, completely oblivious to everything I say!"

"I'm not ignoring you. I just don't have time for constant fucking complaints. Maybe if you had something constructive to say-"

"Constructive? How about acknowledging that I have valid thoughts and emotions? You dismiss everything I bring up!"

Simon scoffes,"You're exaggerating. I'm dealing with real problems, not your constant need for attention."

Y/n's anger simmering, "Real problems? Ignoring your partner is a real problem. I'm right here, trying to communicate, and you act like I'm invisible."

Simon, brushing it off, said, "I've got work, responsibilities. I can't be catering to your every whim."

"Damn it. It's not about catering, Simon. It's about being a partner, someone who listens and cares. But you're so wrapped up in your narcissistic ass mindset that you don't even see how much you're hurting me."

Simon, oblivious or unwilling to understand, replies, "I don't have time for this drama. If you can't handle it, maybe we should reevaluate this relationship."

"You really are a pathetic piece of shit, Simon. I'm here trying my best to hold this relationship between us together. While you, you keep on-"

"Of course. It's always me to blame, isn't it? It's always gotta be about you. Maybe your mother should have been present in your childhood and taught you some manners instead of bitching around like you do. Maybe it really would've been better for all of us if you would have come to the mission instead of Soap and died there instead of him-" he snaps back, completely unaware of what he just said.

*smack* Simon feels a sharp sting across his right cheek, unable to answer, he just stares blankly at you and decides not to take a single word back.

You are standing with teary eyes in front of him, trying to process the things he said.

"Well maybe, it would be the best for us if we break up!" I scream back.

The room falls into an awkward silence after the resounding smack. Simon's cheek burns, mirroring the emotional fire that had ignited between you. In the midst of your tears, a newfound strength emerges.

Without a word, you turn away, refusing to let Simon witness your vulnerability any longer. As you gather your belongings, a heavy silence settles, the relationship irreparably fractured. Simon, still grappling with the impact of his words, realizes the magnitude of his actions but finds himself paralyzed by the weight of regret.

With a final, sorrowful glance, you leave the room, leaving Simon to confront the consequences of his hurtful words. The painful truth lingers, marking the end of a relationship that once held a promise.

[writersdrug]

writersdrug

Welcome to my blog!

I'm Jane :) She/They, overworked, and a writer on the side. My favorite color is midnight blue, my favorite food is Aloo Gobi, and I have a beautiful gorgeous girl named Starr 🌟 Catch me listening to Hozier and old Mr. Suicide Sheep playlists, jotting down my next written work and sipping on lime water. How busy I am and how often I post varies on my schedule, so please be patient if I haven't updated in a while. I'm most likely catching up on sleep or working!

I mostly write for Call of Duty (I say mostly because I'm open to other fandoms, but I have yet to explore). I write SFW< NSFW, light, and dark content, so please make sure to block the tag "Dead Dove Do Not Eat" if you wish to skip my darker works.

My Works

Call of Duty

König Masterlist Simon "Ghost" Riley Masterlist

General COD Works

Comforting You During a Rough Academic Period Comforting You During Your Period "You're Being... Detained" (Phillip Graves x Reader)

Want to see general COD word vomit? Check out my tag cod blurbs!

Want to see more COD content? Drop requests here!

// All work and OC's are fictional. All rights reserved to the Call of Duty franchise. I do not own the characters portrayed in these stories. //

Things I will NOT write:

Scat or waterworks

Food play

Beastiality (monster fucking excluded)

Anal

This list may potentially get longer. If you don't see something here, feel free to ask me about it, but keep in mind it might be something I'm not willing to do, and will therefore be added to this list.

// Just because something is on this list does not mean that this blog will not contain reblogs of this kind of content. By continuing to read my blog you are agreeing that you are responsible for the media you consume. //

FOR ALL WORKS: Headers and dividers credited to @the-aesthetics-shop // MDNI strips and lines credited to @inklore

If I use a photo and cannot find the original artist (since Pinterest is full of reposts where they sometimes don't credit the original creator), please know that none of the art I use is mine. Please message me if you find the OC for an image I use and I'll credit them.

[tgirlrobot]

Karyn Felicidae, Third Floret was a very sneaky floret. She knew that if Mistress had caught her in the act she'd probably be punished in an absolutely embarassing way, but she didn't want to dwell on that while she carefully cut a small piece of ribbon. The last time Maryn was caught with scissors, and god forbid, cutting some material, she was put into a doll-body with no motor control for a week! Mistress was especially mean to her during that time, making her say such embarrassing things like how she "loved her Mistress so much" and that "she would always be a good girl" and and and...

A small mental hiss of xenodrugs stopped the thoughts from going off-course. her spine-friend, her Haustoric Implant, she reminded herself. She needed to stay on travk while she built this... what was it she was building again? No matter. She laid the ribbon into a bath of ichor-black goop before placing it on the handheld structure, smiling as it contracted into a small, loose curl before the substance grew transparent, showing the shining silk underneath.

"Darn 'fini and their dumb... stuff." Karyn muttered to herself as she placed a green rod into the contraption, nodding to herself as she watched everything warp around it, accepting the additional mass and shifting it about, adding onto the figure in front. This was absolutely helping her escape plans of finally rejoining her crew before launching her attack on the stars-darned evil plants that gave her this pretty dress and fancy collar...

Who knows what they've done to her head, though! She might be a brainless slave working in the mines and all this was right now was a machination of her mind! Perishing that simply idioitic thought, Karyn simply fitted the final piece of glass into the masterpiece of an escape tool before leaning back, taking in the full thing in all its two-foot wonder. Green strips of material swung around and around, creating ropes and intricate patterns implying a greater depth to the humanoid model. Moss and red ribbon laid on the top, creating a facsimile of terran hair. Half-moon glasses sat in front of a pair of diamond gemstone eyes.

"Perfect!" A voice harmonied Karyn's, looking upon the mkdel figure of herself. "Look at all that detail, pet! Aren't you proud~!"

Karyn turned around to see her. Mistress Dandel Felicidae, 12th bloom, clapping a pair of woven vined hands together excitedly. The doll in her hands being a significantly downscaled version of the being towering over her. "Fear me, plant lady! My escape is assured woth this!" Karyn pushed the doll towards Dandel, who simply laughed in reaction.

"Of course it is, sweetie! Now come on, let's get you to go for a bath~ then you'll totally get rescued by your pinnates!" Dandel replies, picking up the doll with a single vine, to add to the collection on a shelf of "escape tools", like the adorable knitted sweater she got for her Coreday, or a bookmark made so she wouldn't lose her place in the adorable floret's domestication contract.

"Can we use the purple class A shampoo again? Please?" Karyn batted her eyes as the both walked to the bathroom. "The overnet said it makes me immune to head scritches! And the "class A" meant "Anti-Affini"!"

Dandel laughed jovially. Making a closed overnet where it was only her and the floret was the best decision ever. "Of course petal. You're surely going to be unstoppable if you're immune to head-scritches~"

Funnily enough, Karyn Felicidae was never immune to head scritches, and lost tonight's game of "can she escape the compact" (she never wins~)

[daves-horse]

Happy To See Me

(David Von Eric)

You decide to take a shower before your husband comes home.

Warnings: Shower sex, dirty talk, cum, my size kink may be showing (slighty), shower, David's arms word count: 888

I threw dinner in the oven, wiped my hands on my apron, and made my way to the bathroom. Once I’ve stripped and started the water, I step into the shower sighing with relief, when I feel the hot water run down my back. I bathe as I usually would, taking small breaks to enjoy the water, it’s like a mini massage for me. 

I feel a small breeze against my back giving me chills, followed by large arms practically swallowing me whole. I immediately turn around in fear, my hands balled in fist. “Whoa there, darlin, no need to fight, I've done enough of that today.” I let out a deep breath, when my husband’s voice fills my ears.

“Dammit, David!” I laugh. “You almost took an elbow to the nose.”

He smiles down at me “As if you could reach.” 

“Real funny.” I roll my eyes, all the way down to look at his cock. I giggle to myself. “Looks like someone’s happy to see me.” 

“Sure am,” He scoops me up in one arm. “I’ve had quite the day at practice.” I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. “Kev was on my ass, real bad today and,” My mind begins to wander off as he softly begins massaging circles on my clit. 

“mhm.’ I nod along every couple of seconds or so, so I appear as if I’m attentive to the ‘conversation’. I gasp, feeling the sting of David pinching my clit.

“You ain’t payin’ a lick of attention to what I’m sayin’.” David chuckles.

“I totally am.”

“Is that so?” I nod, breathless. “Really?” He can’t hide his amusement. I mumble a soft uh-huh. he continues massaging my clit “‘Cause I ain’t said nothin’ but gibberish for the last minute or so.”

“I agree” I say drifting back into Lala land. David rolls his eyes, pushing two fingers into me, his thumb still rubbing me off. He presses his lips to mine briefly.

“You’re a dumb little whore, ain’t ya?” David teases

“Yeah.” I breathe, without even processing his words. He laughs at me.

“Alright now, let's get you filled up, before you get too ahead of yourself.” He pulls his fingers out of me and I whine. My complaining is cut short but the feeling of my hole being stretched. I hear David grunt into my ear. “How do ya feel, baby.”

“So full” 

“Aww, baby, you’re droolin’”  He pushes his tongue into my mouth. He slides me up and down his shaft, and my mind only drifts further and further. He pulls away, but a string of saliva keeps us connected. I look up at him, eyes wide, mouth open, his face is flushed, his eyes are squeezed shut, his bottom lip between his teeth. I couldn’t think of something better to look at, not that I could think at all. I close my eyes and bite down on his shoulder as a way to muffle my screams. “Uh-uh, none of that, I wanna all of Texas, to hear how good I fuck ya.” David taps the back of my head. I do as he says and allow myself to make all the sounds my throat could produce. “That’s right darlin.” His voice is so raspy, God, I could die. “Who's makin’ you feel so good?” 

“You.” I Force out. My voice hoarse. 

“And what’s my name, baby.” He’s practically growling in my ear.

“David.” I can hardly breathe.

“I’m sorry, But I didn’t quite hear you darlin’” He taunts.

“David.” My voice slightly louder.

“Huh?” He knows what he’s doing.

“DAVID VON ERICH!” It feels like my vocal chords are ripping apart.

He picks up his pace, which I couldn’t believe was possible. At this point his name was falling from lips like a mantra of some sort. It wasn’t long before I came all over his cock, he wasn’t too far behind, as I felt a new warmth spread throughout my abdomen. 

He sat me down on the shower bench, both of us breathless. I look at him, face red, his arms swollen from lifting me so long, God, he's a gorgeous sight. The water had grown cold, and began to shiver. Taking notice, David turns the water off. I stand up holding on to the rail, my legs feel like jelly, David laughs “You’re leakin’.” he says picking me back up. I look down, to see that, I am, in fact, leaking. He sticks a finger in me “I should see how long you can hold my load in your cunt.” I cringe at his words. 

“You’re so disgusti-” I’m cut off by him shoving his cum covered fingers into my mouth, and I’m comforted with familiar taste of him.

David sets me on the sink counter to dry me off and dress me, he stays in his towel. “So, what’s for dinner? It smelled real good when I came in.” 

My eyes widen as I’m hit with realization “Shit!” I say louder than anticipated. He picks me back up and as he opens the bathroom door, we are immediately greeted with smoke. “How’s pizza sound?” I cough. David just laughs sitting me on a chair and heads over to the phone, turning the oven off on his way. “And open the windows while you’re at it, please.”

“On it.”

Hey, I hope you guys like my first one shot, I’m little rusty because I haven’t written in over a year, so give me some grace. Feel free to request, comment, or critique.

k thanks byeeee.

-Lavender

[makeyoumine69]

Hi! For the 2k followers celebration: Daddy kink, non con, rough sex. Pet name Sugarplum, thank you! <3

Watch Me Burn

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SUMMARY: Patrick waited for so long to get his hands on you, and now that you’re finally his, he'll make sure to fulfill all his fantasies, whether you like it or not.

— CONTAINS: Non-con smut, oral sex (Patrick receiving), unprotected p in v sex, Daddy kink, degradation, manhandling, pet names, dirty talk, humiliation, choking, hair pulling, biting, spanking.

— WORDS: 1.5k

— A/N:Thank you so much for your request! It was such a pleasure to write this, so don't mind the length, I just couldn't stop myself, but I hope you like it!

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST] [buy me a coffee]💓

Anger and despair were eating you from the inside out and that feeling was almost scorching — you could feel the searing pain piercing through every pitch of your trembling body. Naked and embarrassed, you were resting on Bateman’s king sized bed. Even though you were not tied up, you didn’t make any attempts to run away, considering you knew you wouldn’t have a chance to escape him.

Playfully humming to himself, Patrick was setting up the camera, he was fully stripped too, however you were doing your best to avoid looking at him — the way his toned muscles were lilting each time he made a move, and not to mention his fully erected cock, bobbing up and down with the bead of the pre-cum on top of his blushing tip.

“What is this sad face?” He suddenly asked after checking if you were on the full screen for the camera. “Not funny anymore, Sugarplum?” 

When you didn’t reply, Patrick got closer to the bed and beckoned you to its edge — and this time you couldn’t just ignore him. Tentatively, you moved to the place he wanted you to, his cock twitching from the sight of your exposed body, plus the way it was shaking was giving him a special sort of satisfaction.

With a devilish smirk, Bateman grabbed your chin possessively, forcing you to look at him while he briefly stroked himself. “C’mon, baby. Give it a taste.”

With your eyes already wet again, you got closer to him and wrapped your shaking hand around the base of his dick. When you opened your mouth, you thought you were ready to endure all the things which this night would bring you, but at the very last moment, you closed your eyes and pleaded: “No, I can’t! I can’t do it,” you tried to return to your previous place but his dead grip on your throat didn’t allow you to do it. “Patrick! NO! Please, d-don’t make me do this!”

As soon as you saw his large palm getting closer to your face, you flinched, knowing that he would slap you, but instead, he just slipped his thumb inside your mouth.

“I can’t believe you didn’t take me seriously when I said you would be mine,” Patrick hissed and kept jacking himself off in a steady pace, pushing his finger deeper inside your mouth. “Not a pleasant feeling, huh?” He chuckled arrogantly at your pitiful lowing. “You will get used to it, I promise.”

Everything started to happen so fast, your little mind didn’t have a chance to follow and your head was spinning as if it were hit with a hammer. Growling, Bateman stuffed your mouth with his throbbing cock, pushing it almost till the base and squeezing your nostrils tight, asphyxiating you and ignoring the way you were desperately clawing at his hands.

“If I find any scratches on my skin, I will rip off your fucking nails!” He scoffed and yanked you by the hair. “DO YOU HEAR ME?”

Annoyed, Patrick pulled out from your mouth and you used this moment to inhale deeply, not even thinking about the string of saliva mixed with his pre-cum running down your chin. 

“Yes…"

Bateman growled in return and shook you several times.

“Yes, who?” He spat his words into your dull face, squashing your cheeks.

“Yes, Daddy!” You dared to stare into his eyes, although you regretted it almost instantly, as they seemed to be brighter than the Sun and it was too much to look into them.

“You better not test me, Sugarplum.” Patrick crooned in a sweet voice, sliding his leaking dick along your swollen lips before he gave them several slaps. “Actually, I don’t want to hurt you,” he matched his words with a light stroke on your cheek, but the next second he pushed himself inside your mouth once again. “I was thinking about having you for too long… I was imagining how warm your mouth would be,” he almost moaned with his eyes closed as he began to rock his hips against your face. “Fuck, it feels even better than I thought.”

Never in your life have you felt yourself more vulnerable than now and with each passing moment it was getting worse — his obsession about you became your darkest curse.

When Bateman got bored with you giving him head, he easily manhandled you to get on all fours while he was setting himself behind you, so now you both were facing the camera and the mirror on the opposite side of the room. That damn mirror made you close your eyes to avoid seeing that pitiful sight, but once you felt his red tip prodding against your shamefully moist opening, you couldn’t help but turn around to face him — your scared gaze met his lustful one and for a moment you thought you were going to black out.

“Mmmhm, w-wait!” You mewled the moment Patrick rammed inside your tight hole. “It… a-aaaww… it’s so big!”

Cramping the sheets, you could swear you felt each inch of his girth stretching your soft walls and that sensation was both painful and delightful — it made your eyes roll back into your head and lose attachment to reality.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” he husked and thrusted deeper, pushing on your back to bend you lower. “And so fucking wet, you like to be treated like that? Am I right, bitch?”

“N-no!” You whimpered as he gripped your neck and made you arch your back towards him, almost splitting you in half.

“You’re… mmmhm… you’re such a little pathetic liar!” Punctuating each word with a harsh, long stroke, Patrick sped up and forced you to look up at him. “I’ll make sure everyone knows how much of a slut you’re! Now, look at the fucking camera!”

Panting, he let go of you and spanked your ass hard, you could see several tears falling down on the sheets before you raised your watering eyes on the camera.

“How would your friends and family react to seeing you like that?” Bateman continued to taunt you, slamming into you relentlessly, so you could feel his heavy sac hitting your soaked pussy. “Do they know how nasty you are?”

“P-please stop! Stop saying things like that,” you cried out, wiggling in his grasp but Patrick only pushed on you harder and when he covered you from behind completely, you wailed so loud because the angle of penetration was too much to bear. “Please, Daddy! Please, ahhh—please don’t do that!”

“Do what?” He murmured into your ear, resting his hands beneath you, so now they were wrapped around your neck like tight ropes.

“Don’t… don’t show this to anyone, I beg you!” You hated yourself for sounding so miserable and broken, but just the thought of your friends or family watching you like this made you wanna sink through the ground.

His low snickering drowned in lewd sounds of your bodies slapping against each other, along with slick squelch your cunt made each time his throbbing cock slid inside and outside. 

“Argh, look at you! You’re so pathetic and ruined… and I like that.” He nipped at your neck and rolled his hips against your ass to push himself even deeper, his swollen tip roughly brushing against your cervix. “How far are you ready to go for it?” 

You swallowed your salty tears, clinging to the bed with all might you have to bear the hard pounding. “I… I’ll do everything… you want.” 

God, your words just ascended him right to heaven — the power he had over you was overwhelming — how long he was waiting for it, how long he was dreaming about you saying this. Now, he was going to make you pay for each time you denied him, so you would remember how weak and defenseless you were against him.

Leisurely, he backed into his previous position, his pulsating dick slided out from your abused pussy and that gave you a brief moment to catch your breath.

“(Y/n), my dear (y/n),” he repeated your name like a mantra as if he was trying to hypnotize you. “Show Daddy how obedient you can be.”

Shaking, you got on your knees and turned in his direction to see him biting his lower lip and the next moment you cut the distance between you two to kiss him as hard as you could. When you heard him moaning against your mouth you looped your arms around his broad shoulders, and though you did it to save your reputation, you couldn't deny the fact how utterly handsome this man was. And maybe if you two met under other circumstances, you could really fall for him, but now the only thing that had left for you to do was fuck yourself on his beefy shaft and hoping that he would destroy this cursed tape, so no one would ever see this. If only you could wipe your memory, if only you had listened to the warnings about Patrick Bateman, if only…

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[reyadawn]

Punish Me Once

*image not mine, credit to owner*

This is specifically for the Anon who asked @darling-millicent-aubrey this earlier. Please bare with me on this, its COMPLETELY out of my comfort zone!

Summary: Noah taking you to meet the rest of the band; things get a little heated you're partying on the tour bus. Dirty dancing, grinding up against one of the band members who you think is Noah but it's dark and you're drunk. So wreckless of you. Noah's in the corner watching 👀

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x OFC x Joakim "Jolly" Karlsson

Warnings: EVERYTHING, 🔞 so dont even THINK about reading if you're under age, language, kissing, choking, hair pulling, spanking, degredation, handjob, blowjob, fingering, unprotected sex (threesome), creampie...basically, pure unadulterated filth 🥵

Word Count: Who cares?!

Buckle up buttercups!

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How I managed to get myself to this point was beyond mind-boggling. One minute, I'm screaming myself hoarse at the barricade of the Bad Omens' performance at The Highwire and the next, I'm taking shots with the band on thier tour bus after the show.

I was currently seated next to Nicholas at the small table, kicking back my lost-count-of Buttershots. The rich and smooth butterscotch flavor slid warm down my throat and settled into my stomach. I was past the point of tasting the alcohol.

Music suddenly blared from the speakers as I kept my blurry gaze fixed on Noah. Tall, dark, handsome, entire body saturated in tattoos should be every woman's hottest fantasy. Basically, he was sex-on-legs. As the music carried on, I got up and started dancing, hips swaying in the short plaid skirt I wore. I raised my arms above my head as I felt strong hands suddenly gripping my hips.

I gasped, as I purposely rubbed my ass to the front of the man behind me who I was quite certain was Noah. Peeking through partially opened eyes, I didnt see him anywhere in sight at the table or front of the bus. I continued grinding down on the hardening cock behind me, the sudden feeling of fingers between my thighs from behind. I smirked, knowing full well I had no panties on, as the mystery fingers gently swept through my already soaked cunt.

"You filthy fucking girl", the deep voice behind me whispered. A hand wrapped around my throat, tipping my head forcibly back and gently squeezed. Lips were at the skin exposed where a bruise was sucked to life.

Opening my eyes again, the bus was empty now except for a very pissed off, very turned on Noah seated at the table. His hand ran through his hair irritably as he looked up at me with fire flashing in his gaze. The large erection he sported behind the black sweat pants he wore was threatening to burst.

Through my drunken state, I stopped grinding against who I assumed was Noah, knowing now it wasn't him. I half turned, looking up into the heated face of Jolly and I could feel my face grow hot in mortification.

Suddenly, Noah yanked me from Jolly's grasp and I damn near stumbled and fell after him as he dragged me down the isle, past the bunks and into the back room. Jolly was hot on our heels as Noah waited for him to enter, slamming and locking the door behind him.

"Strip. Now. Don't make ask you twice, princess. You wanna' act like a fucking slut, I'll treat you like one", Noah snapped, arms crossed in front of his chest. "You, too, Jolly. Clothes off".

I stared at Noah in shock, my eyes briefly slicing to Jolly, but complied. I was shaking like a damn leaf as I stood naked in front of the two men. Noah smiled darkly before sauntering over to me and placing his hand on my shoulder to forcibly sink to my knees.

"Take me out", Noah said, arms now relaxed at his side, hands balled into fists. I reached for him, pulling the waistband of his sweats down causing his cock to spring free and I damn near lost my ability to breathe at the sight; long, thick, red tip shinning with precum.

"Open", Noah commanded before looking over at Jolly who was more than hard himself. "You suck my cock until I come down your throat and don't you even think about fucking gagging". I nodded only once before getting to work.

I slid my lips along the length of Noah's cock, flattening my tongue to take him as deep as I could into my mouth. The rich earthy taste of his skin had a wave of slick coating my clit, running down my thighs. I hollowed my cheeks, sheathing my teeth behind my lips and sucked hard, earning a hiss from Noah.

SLAP!

My eyes snapped open to see Noah's hand come down on Jolly's ass who was currently bent over the arm of the loveseat. "We share, don't we, Jolly? We aren't greedy or selfish are we? You're never doing that again are you?", Noah growled, each question he asked, his palm making contact with Jolly's skin, turning it a bright red. Noah's other hand suddenly caught in my hair, fisting a handful to thrust into my mouth. My pussy clenched at the sight of Noah spanking Jolly and I almost gagged as he reached underneath him to carress his balls. Jolly whimpered, shifting over the arm, no doubt to relieve the pressure on his aching cock.

All of a sudden, Noah tipped his head back and cried out as hot fluid splashed on my tongue. By now, tears ran down my cheeks and saliva down my chin. I probably looked like a strategic hot mess.

"On your fucking feet", Noah said, pulling his cock from my mouth with an audible 'pop', hauling me roughly to my feet.

"Stop manhandling me, Noah", I snapped. He suddenly rounded on me, hand shooting out to wrap around my neck, hauling me to his chest and turning me so my back faced the loveseat.

"What was that, princess? You've got a smart mouth. Clearly you learned nothing from having it stuffed full of my cock so how about I let Jolly here fuck that sweet ass of yours while I fuck this tight cunt at the same time? You'll be our own personal Chinese cock trap", Noah replied, as he uncerimoniously shoved a free hand between my thighs, sinking two long fingers inside me while curling them upward. The act raised me to my tip toes and my eyes rolled back as I let out a pornographic moan.

Noah backed me up to where Jolly now sat spread eagled on the loveseat. Jolly's fingers gathered through my slick that collected on my thighs before slowly pushing a thick finger inside my ass. I preened, arching my back, Noah's hand still around my neck as he brought his lips to mine, still thrusting his fingers in and out of my dripping cunt. I whimpered into the kiss as Jolly guided me to sit, ass down over his lap. The head of his cock pierced the tight ring of my ass and I squeezed my eyes shut tight.

Noah pulled away from me. "No, no, princess, eyes open...let me see those pretty eyes as he fucks your sweet ass...one day, it'll be mine", Noah said roughly. The fuck did that mean? Using more of my slick to coat his cock, Jolly sank me down until his cock was fully seated inside my ass. I leaned back until I rested against his chest as Noah straddled over us, the head of his cock pushing into my core. Noah's hands reached to grip the back of the loveseat over Jolly's shoulders as he gave a hard thrust, sliding inside me to the hilt.

I screamed. There was nothing for me to do as Noah's relentless thrusts to my overstimulated pussy had Jolly's cock rising and falling inside my ass. Jolly had my legs pinned up so Noah could bully his cock inside me, the head pummeling my cervix repeatedly. My orgasm hit me out of nowhere, my ass instinctively queezing Jolly's cock causing him to come as he let out a rough shout, and I screamed again.

It was too much. The feeling of being overly full, stretched. I could only let Noah fuck his cock into me at a now bruising pace as he removed a hand from the loveseat to rub his thumb in furious circles over my clit. I reached up, grabbing a hold of his bisceps, muscles buldging from the grip he held to keep himself upright.

"Come on, princess...come for me...come all over this cock...be a good little cumslut for me", Noah said, pistoning his hips. I opened my lips on a silent scream, eyes rolling back as he gave a final hard, deep thrust, holding himself inside me as he emptied his balls, lips biting into the side of my neck to shroud his cry of release.

I limply laid against Jolly as Noah pulled his cock free on my body. He stepped back, fixing his clothes as Jolly moved to lay me on the cushions and covered me with a blanket where I promptly passed out.

"I think we broke her, man", Jolly said, getting dressed. Noah looked over at him and grinned, the two men sharing a high five.

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Don't come at me, I did this on my lunch break at work! 😅

@darling-millicent-aubrey @doomhands-jr @thefallennightmare @exitwoundsx @concreteangel92 @concreteemo @lma1986 @lilhobgobbler @bloodylullaby @bluestdai @artificialbreezy @amourtoken @livingdeceasedgirl

[wandanatsgf]

Pray and I Shall Answer Thee Part 2

Pairing: Aphrodite!Wanda x Follower!Reader

Word Count: 1182

Summary: You wait for months for Wanda to return, and yet she never shows. Now you're determined to get over her, but a certain goddess won't allow that.

Warning: This contains smut and oral (r receiving)

Author's note: On my old blog this was called Call and I Will Come or something like that, but I decided to rename it (hope you all don't mind),

Part 2

It has been a few months since your encounter with Wanda and she hasn't visited you since that night. Maybe it was just a one time thing to her, but to you it meant everything. Still, you were determined to get over her and you knew the perfect way to do so.

The walk to your local tavern was a long. You can already feel the cool autumn air seeping into your bones and you still have another 15 minutes to go. You pull your coat tighter around your body as you continue to walk.

The sound of a carriage makes you steer yourself off the road, letting the carriage hopefully pass you by without getting you wet. Unfortunately you weren't so lucky. You hear a loud splash and before you know it, you're soaking wet.

"Oh my gods I am so sorry darling," you hear an angelic voice say as the carriage comes to a stop.

A woman steps out of the carriage and she is one of the most beautiful women you have ever seen. Her red hair curls around her face. and her green eyes sparkle like emeralds in the moonlight. Her white dress wraps around her like wings. She looks angelic, almost godly.

"It's quite alright," you say quickly.

"No it's not. Let me take you back to my place and give you some warm, dry clothes," the woman says. Normally you wouldn't accept such an invitation from a stranger, but there is just something about her that makes you say yes.

"What's your name?" the woman asks you.

"Y/n," you say.

"Y/n," she repeats. "That's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl." You can feel yourself blush as you thank her.

"I'm Natasha."

"Well it's nice to meet you Natasha."

You climb into Natasha's carriage and the two of you converse about all sorts of topics until you make it to Natasha's home. As the carriage comes to a stop, you take in your surroundings. You're amazed at this woman's mansion that she calls a home. She was clearly much more wealthy than you.

Natasha helps you out of the carriage and inside her house. She leads you to her bedroom, which contains a closet full of the most gorgeous clothes you have ever seen.

"Here you go darling. Call for me if you need anything," Natasha says as she hands you the clothes.

"Thank you so much," you say with sincerity.

"It's really no problem," Natasha says, leaving you to change.

You strip out of your tunic and start to pull the new, soft, dry garment on when you hear a voice behind you.

"What do you think you're doing?"

You spin around and come face to face with the goddess who has been on your mind every single day since that night.

"Wanda," you breathe out.

"What are you doing?" she growls out. She looks like a predator stalking its prey.

"I'm changing," you say like it's obvious.

"No you're not," Wanda says. She pulls the garment off of you, leaving you naked. "You're not putting on her things."

"I'm sorry what?!?"

"You heard me. This would be the goddess you call Athena's clothing you are putting on and I won't allow that."

"You won't allow it?!? You're not the boss of me," you say snappily. You snatch the clothing out of Wanda's hand and put it on. You can tell you're angering Wanda, but you don't care. Not after she left you with no contact for months.

"We're leaving," Wanda says. She grabs you by the arm and pulls you towards the front door where Natasha stands.

"What do you think you're doing Wanda," Natasha yells out.

"I'm taking what's mine," she says like it's obvious. The two of them continue to argue over you as if you are some sort of property. You take this opportunity to slip out, unnoticed by the two bickering goddesses.

You had been walking for about five minutes when Wanda appears by your side.

"What do you want goddess," you ask, saying goddess snarkily.

"I have come to apologize."

"Ok. Get on with it."

"I'm sorry for not treating you properly. I haven't been with a human before and I don't quite know how to act. I know I haven't quite courted you properly and I'm sorry," she says.

"I forgive you," you mumble out. "But I want you to do better. I need to see you more. I need stability and I need to see you more, and not just when you're jealous or want something."

"I'll give you that and whatever else you wish darling. Say the word and it is yours." You smile at this.

"Right now all I want is you." This was true. You hadn't been able to get yourself off ever since that night and now that she is here you can't help yourself.

"That can be arranged," she says. You're enveloped in a cloud of red magic. When the cloud disappears you're back at your home.

"Come here," Wanda says. She grabs your hips and pulls you into her. You feel her capture your lips with her own. You moan into the kiss as her hands slip down your sides.

"Jump," you hear her say once your lips break apart. You jump up and wrap your legs around the taller woman's waist. She places her hands on your ass and walks the two of you over to your bed. She gently places you down and crawls on top of you.

"I have a lot to make up for don't I?"

"Yes you do my goddess," you say. Wanda smiles down at you. She takes your dress off, leaving you in a set of bra and panties. She lets out a low moan at the sight of you, and it makes your core tingle with excitement. Wanda places soft kisses against your collar bone while her right hand slips down to your bra covered tits. She gently gropes your left boob before taking your bra off. She throws your bra to the other side of the room and quickly attaches her lips to your nipple.

"Fuck," you moan out.

"Am I making you feel good baby?" Wanda asks.

"Yes goddess. You're making me feel so good," you say. You grab Wanda's hair and lightly pull. Wanda detaches herself from your nipple and moves straight to your core. She slips your panties off and immediately attaches her lips to your clit.

“Gods,” you moan out.

“It’s not gods honey. There’s only one god making you feel this good,” Wanda says as she sucks on your bundle of nerves. Wanda continues to suck and lick your core and you can feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release.

“Please goddess,” you beg.

“Cum for me baby. Cum for your goddess,” she says. That’s all it takes before your release spills out onto Wanda’s tongue as she licks it all up.

"Thank you Wanda," you say.

"Anything for you darling and I'm truly sorry for my behavior. I promise I'll be better." Wanda places a gentle kiss on your lips. which you reciprocate.

"It's alright, all is forgiven," you say.