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#who's yer con
catbatart · 1 month
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Hey guys!
Gonna be at Who's Yer Con this coming weekend (Friday March 29-Sunday March 31.) It's a teeny little convention at the Indianapolis Marriott East!
I'll be bringing the remaining Owlbear and Strahd mousepads, as well as my usual load out (including coloring books, prints, and handmade dice!)
If you're local to Indy, I'd love to see you there!
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dante-mightdie · 21 days
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Viking!Soap who goes off pillaging, as one does in their free time, and comes back to Price with the squealing, kicking daughter of their (now dead) enemy clan’s chief.
Basically, “Look what I caught,” he says as reader kicks at him to let her go, to no avail, as she calls him a brute. He looks at Price like a dog bringing its master a bird.
god I woke up and hour ago to check my inbox and you guys sent in so many good ass requests i’m so proud of all of you
c/w: basically kidnapping, anal, stripping, dub-con/non-con, mentions of alcohol and pillaging, I can’t write in a scottish accent leave me alone
price had already settled down for the evening, his heavy cloak was slung over the chair in the corner of the room. his long hair had been taken out of the same bun he puts it in everyday, mousse brown hair falling in waves all the way down to his shoulders
he had planned on relaxing in front of the fireplace, nursing a bottle of mead but those plans seem unlikely now judging by the sounds of chaos approaching his tent. loud boisterous footsteps and laughter combined with high-pitched shrieks and cries
john knows that it’s johnny before he even sees him, that scottish brogue is unmistakable. he lets out a deep sigh when he finally sees the warrior burst into his home, a wound-up girl slung over his shoulder. price narrows his eyes as he watches johnny manhandle you, your back to his chest as he holds you down with his arms around your waist
“look what a’ found for ye, chief.” johnny says, a big grin spreading across his face as you kick and thrash in his arms, screaming your head off about what a brute he is, “stop yer whingin’, hen.”
“found?” price grunts out, taking a sip of the honeyed alcohol with a seemingly unfazed look on his face. your aggravated thrashes have calmed down to quiet sobs as you plead for these big, horrible men to let you go
“Anno ye said tae leave that clan alone, chief but ah caught this one bathing in the stream and knew ye would like her.” you can practically hear johnnys tail wagging when the apparent chief stands up and walks over to you, gripping your chin to examine your face before letting out a pleased grunt
“ye like her?” johnny all but whines, dropping you to the floor when the chief jerks his head to signal to out you down. you scramble to your feet, taking a few steps back and backing yourself into a corner
price lets out a small amused huff at your fight, downing the rest of his drink in a few big gulps. he walks over to you, your attempts to push him away are pitiful as his hands grip the hem of your dishevelled dress and tears the fabric in two
you squeal and weakly punch at his chest as he strips you down with what seems like no effort at all. your hands only stopping to cover your completely exposed body. johnny takes this as his cue to leave, turning on his heel with a defeated look on his face
“get over here, boy. I’ll let you have a taste after i’m finished with her.” price says, not even turning to look at johnny. instead keeping his animal gaze on your tits as he gropes them with his rough hand, “need you to tire her out so she doesn’t keep me up all night.”
johnny doesn’t need to be told twice as he takes his spot next to the bed, hand sliding up his kilt to stroke at his cock which had been hard since he snatched you up from your burning home
john grabs your upper arm and manhandles you over to the bed, bending you over the mattress and pinning your wrists to your lower back with just one of his monstrous hands
“please.” you plead, “i’m already promised to someone!”
price lets out a proper laugh at that one, lifting his spare hand and bringing it down on your ass with a thundering crack that echoes throughout the room. you squeal out in bed, pushing back your hips when his hand soothes over sore skin
“then I guess i’ll just have to kill him.” he grunts with a weak shrug of his shoulders as he shamelessly gropes your ass. this does little to soothe you as you soon start up your useless kicking and thrashing again. price only responds to this with another hard slap to your ass, “settle down. I’m not gonna fuck your cunt tonight. I know a lady when I see one. I’ll treat you proper on our wedding night, yeah?”
john uses his grip on your ass to spread your cheeks, spitting a fat glob of salvia at the right rim of muscle above your pussy. two of his thick fingers prodding at your ass before slipping inside. you squirm in his tight hold, let out a loud whine
he lets you adjust for a little while, waiting until your cries had settled down to soft sniffles before beginning to fuck your ass with his fingers. johnny makes himself known with his soft grunts and the slick sounds of his cock being stroked under his kilt
your soft pleads for him to stop are coated with cracked moans as he stretches your ass out. ha scissors his fingers inside, pulling them out when he feels little resistance. he fishes his cock out from his trousers and pressing the tip to the entrance of you
you whine and wiggle your hips slightly, your pathetic attempts at trying to get away do nothing to help as he grabs his cock and pushes himself inside you. his fingers couldn’t compare to this burn of being stretched like this on his cock
johnny lets a choked moan, throwing his head back as precum dribbles from his tip
“quit your whining, mutt. you’ll get your turn.” john grunts, grabbing your legs and putting them over his shoulders as he begins to fuck into your ass relentlessly
his face is inches away from yours, the animalistic glint in his eyes is a sharp contrast to the glossy, subdued look in yours
“he wouldn’t know what to do with a wiley little brat like you, girlie.” he grunts in your ear, one hand coming down to rub your clit with his thumb. he lets out a loud groan when he feels your ass clamp down around his thick cock, “don’t worry, I’ll take all that fight outta ya.”
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diejager · 3 months
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Dark!childhood best friend Johnny is going to eat away at my mind for the next couple days, thanks =)
Imagine him guilt tripping you into sex, "At least a blowjob Bonnie, please? Ah been yer best friend for forever." Giving you those big blue puppy dog eyes as he ruts against you.
Cw: DARKFIC, DUB-CON/NON-CON, blowjob, choking, throatpie, manipulation/coercion, guilt tripping, dacryphilia, tell me if I missed any.
”I don’t know, Johnny,” you bit your lower lip, staring at him with a nervous gleam and answered his hesitantly. You truly wanted to help Johnny, but you didn’t think it appropriate to blow your best friend, especially after your recent break up.
“One, Bonnie, just one.”
Johnny was always insistent, used to getting what he wanted from you as children and teens, your younger and naive mind listening to everything he said. Perhaps he was used to it, but you’ve changed as much as he did, growing up happy but tired with work and life. You’d been hit on, men coming up to you for a quick fuck or to take advantage of you, and how fortunate was it that Johnny was your best friend. That meant you knew a few tricks you’ve heard from prior experience and your friends, but this was Johnny, your childhood best friend who stuck by your side through thick and thin.
“Johnny…” you stammer when he pressed on, cornering you against the couch in your shared flat, his cock - a big and hard and hot mass - rutting your thigh, his hips rucking up your loose shorts, “I’m not sure if-“
He pouted. Johnny pouted, lips pulled down and his pretty, blue eyes gleaming while he begged you to serve him once, he even threw you his puppy eyes. He pressed himself closer to you, hands finding your hips and pulling you into him, his still growing bulge grinding against your burning core, tingling with the fresh flames of pleasure. He groaned, nuzzling your shoulder and panting loudly, his hot breath hitting your neck in loud puffs and grunts.
“Just one, please? Ah been yer best friend fer so long, dinnea ah deserve one, Bonnie?” You couldn’t tell him no when he looked at you with such a pleading expression, sounding so exhausted and restless.
The moment you gave him a tentative nod, Johnny had you kneeling between his legs, excitedly reaching under his pants to pull out his cock. It hung between his legs, heavy with girth and slightly longer than your ex, balls thick with unspent cum and his trimmed hair musky. You’ve seen his naked body before - from the many shared showers and many moments of comfort - but you never really stared at the length and girth of him. Your flustered cheeks made him coo, running his thumb under your eye and letting you take your time, hands wrapping around the base and wetting your dry lips.
You kissed his engorged tip, tongue swirling around it before wrapping your lips around the head, sucking until your cheeks hollowed and bobbing your head lightly. He tasted salty, the dripping pre rolling down your throat each time you took him deeper, slow and careful because of his size. He was thicker than what you were used to, the girth of his cock hard and covered in crossing veins, bulging and throbbing with a pulse; and he was longer than what you’ve had, the head hitting so deeply, making your throat choke around his cock with every drag over your tongue to the back of your mout.
You jerked the rest of his cock, the part that you couldn’t take, with your hands, fingers dragging the skin across his length and traveling down to cup his balls, fondling with his heavy balls. He swore loudly, unabashed and shamelessly moaning out your name, his fingers running through your hair and tightening and pulling when he hit the back of your throat, his cock jumping when you audibly gagged. His whole body shuddered when he caught the first tears under your fluttering lashes, some stray tears rolled down your cheek, gleaming under the living-room light. 
“‘M close, Bonnie,” he rasped, softly running his fingers through your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper and deeper —to let him fill your stomach with him. 
Invigorated by his words, you bobbed your head faster, choking down your retching and tears, feeling him twitch on your tongue and his pre thickening. He mumbled out a few incoherent words, praises and compliments, telling you how well you were doing and how his best friend had such a good mouth. He let slip out that he would’ve asked for this favour a while back if he knew your mouth was so hot and tight. 
“Moan fer me, let me feel ya.”
You moaned and mewl, letting the sound shake through your throat and mouth vibrating his whole cock, head sinking down on him and slick hands still pumping what you couldn’t fit, coaxing him to come down your throat. When he came, he thrust his hips up, forcing him much deeper as tangy cum spurted from his tip, painting your mouth and throat in thick, white seed. His body shuddered, head thrown back, back arched and limbs tense, holding you still while you swallowed down his cum. 
You gasped and panted when he pulled you off, eyes lidded and lips swollen from the stretch of his shaft. He whispered out praises, pulling you to his lap and peppered your face with doting kisses. He kissed your tears away, and he kissed your lips, his tongue pushing past your teeth and tasting himself in your mouth. Smiling softly at your fiery blush, he pressed his forehead against yours, gazing into your eyes with a cheeky expression that made you frown.
“Let me return the favour?”
Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @cassiecasluciluce @hayleybarnesx @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @infpt-zylith @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @rainbowsabre
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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months
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Normal People Things (dark!141 x fem!Reader)
Soap drags you to his place to meet with his lieutenant. It goes as smoothly as you can imagine. AO3 CW and tags: Non-con, poly, group sex, size kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, kidnapping, dead dove do not eat, forced orgasms, praise, humiliation
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The ride is short – shorter than you anticipated. You don’t know if you wanted it to be longer if you needed more time to sort out the thoughts flying in your head – you feel numb, empty, hollow, all of those stupid words for stupid expressions because nothing can quite describe the dread settling in your stomach. 
Your throat burns, your makeup is ruined, you are shaking like a kitten left under a rain – you listen to some light music, something you could hear in the car of a guy you’d probably be interested in. Classic rock, some melodic sensations, if you squint and cover your mouth, you can almost relax and stop the desire to puke. You felt mostly sober when the Scot was pushing his dick in your mouth, the horror of the situation forcing your mind to clear up a little – but now it’s foggy again, blurry and messy every time you open your eyes just to see the same man on the front seat, smiling every time he catches you looking at him through the mirror. 
He broke your phone, obviously – snatched it from your hands and broke it in two with horrifying ease. He kissed you after this, cold lips on your forehead. You were crying, or so you think – you were crying this whole ordeal, your face feeling wet and burning as he was fucking laughing, trying to get you to talk to him. You wouldn’t, even if your throat weren’t hoarse and hurting from the fucking he gave you. 
“Want to grab somethin’ to eat, bonnie? I know a bloody lovely place, eh?”
You didn’t respond, the thought of taking something from a guy who eligibly kidnapped you made you sick. Besides, it’s not like food will do you any good – your stomach is spinning from a combination of fear and alcohol, and even though you’d love to ruin this pretty car, you don’t want to evocate even more negative feelings from its owner. He hasn’t hurt you too much yet – no bruises, no broken bones or blood, and you don’t want to provoke him further. 
“Don’t cry so much, I didn’t even fucked ye. I’ll get ye off later, aye?” 
You don’t want him to ever touch you again – despite that disgusting, burning feeling on your panties, the way your little cunt is fucking soaked because his voice is gruff, his face is pretty, and he almost touched you in a way that wasn’t making you sick – it all dropped now, thankfully, your mind is reminded of just how horrible he really is. “Just sit yer wee arse here, lassie. Lt and I will take care of ye” You almost fell asleep when he finally stopped in front of…a building. You don’t know what you were expecting – an evil lair, maybe some grimy base where monsters like him are being made. Not a rather normal apartment building, maybe a bit too scary and dark for your liking – you probably wouldn’t want to live here or even be around this place at night, but, ultimately, it doesn’t look like an evil base. 
This only makes your condition worse – you start sobbing again, useless and pathetic begging as the Scot drags you out of the car, supporting your wobbly legs and making sure you won’t fall down to the ground as he gently caresses your body. He is too fucking soft, too gentle – even his grip on your wrists isn’t bruising, he has one hand on your waist, gently pushing you towards the building. 
***
Ghost wasn’t expecting guests today. He just got out of another deployment, a few days from the previous mission, ready to get back any time if it weren’t for the fact they all deserved a little retreat – yet, he was planning to go with alcohol, maybe some lowly jerk-off sessions with Johnny and shitton of cigarettes to pass the day. What he wasn’t expecting is his sergeant spamming the 141 group chat – shitty idea, really, too much liability and security problems, despite all the measures Price took to encrypt everything – with pictures of cute, crying girl being all adorable, scared and fucking defenseless. 
No one in 141 is a good person – it comes with the job, really, if you’re willing to be a good guy with a gun, there will always be a moment when the lines become blurred. Dragging a civilian girl to their damp apartment isn’t a life-or-death decision made in the field, but they all deserve a bit of sweetness after a mission, right? 
They can be good for you. Simon isn’t sure there is anything in his heart that can still be declared as soft and fuzzy feelings, but he is willing to try and find it, even if for a night. They won’t be letting you go, obviously, Lasswell won’t cover their sorry asses in case you’re getting out with a marvelous surviving story, so you all would have a lot of time to get to know each other. 
— Thought you’d bring food, Johnny. 
— I did. Not my fault they gave up sweets as freebies. 
— How is she? 
— Quiet. Our lassie is a smart girl, eh? Didn’t even fight too much. 
— Fuckin’ hell. Thought they stopped making those a while ago. 
— Good thing I found her, aye? 
Ghost stands at the door of their shared apartment, staring at adorable scared you. You’re shaking in his sergeant’s hands, poor thing, too fucking terrified to even run – you have mascara smeared all over your face, drool and cum on your lips, and he drags a finger to your mouth, wiping it all away. 
You instinctively suck on his finger, the natural obedience coming with a very simple “please, don’t hurt me” plea – and he fucking knows you will be so good for them. He is dragging you inside, allowing Soap to push the takeout bag on the small table in the kitchen while Simon is dealing with all of those silly clothes you’re wrapped in. 
You beg him to stop, but, at this point, even you don’t think he will. All ounces of hope were destroyed already. You aren’t sure what you want anymore – maybe you want to just lay down and sleep, hoping that they will stop tormenting you. The ache between your legs only grows stronger when Ghost drags you to the bedroom, his strong, bulky hands holding you so perfectly – so firmly, you can’t even wish to move away. 
The mattress creaks under the combined weight of your bodies. You roll to the side immediately, your brain is foggy from alcohol again – you don’t even register his rough, firm hands as he is slowly dragging the ruined dress from your body, revealing the underwear you spend so much time choosing and buying. You liked the combination – you wanted to wear something nice today, even if no one would have seen it. 
Now you have this horrifying man in a skull balaclava and harsh hands tugging on the straps of your bra. You sob, head spinning and vomit picking in your throat. The man puts a hand between your shoulder blades, just enough pressure to make you grounded – to remind you that there is no way out, even in your mind. 
— Calm down, love. Won’t hurt ya. 
You choke on a laugh – they are literally going to fucking assault you, you were already forced to suck on Soap’s dick, and yet, this man is playing gentleman with you while undressing you at the same time. You cry again, your tears met with a soft hand on your cheek – checking on you. 
God, you want to drown in this affection, no matter how artificial it is. 
— L…let me go, please. I won’t tell anyone. 
— Too late for that, eh? Johnny don’t have any bloody manners. 
Scot screams from the kitchen, making you wince from the sound. 
“Bloody hell, Lt, I ken ye were fine with draggin’ our lassie here a minute ago!“ You sobs intensify, and you never felt more fragile than before – just one loud sound is enough to break you. The British guy drags you into an uncomfortably tight embrace almost immediately – you’d say you’re almost thankful for the moment of affection, but he snaps your bra a second later. 
— Sorry, love. Will buy you a new one. 
His fingertips are rough on your skin, a contrast that sends shivers down your spine. You whine, feeling stranded like this – feeling like you’re going to be fucking sick from the moisture in your panties. You hate yourself for being this touch starved, but the man is as rough as he is mysterious – and by the look of his figure, perfectly sculpted hands, and a healthy amount of tummy that doesn’t make him look any less intimidating, he might be up to your tastes. It's too bad you don’t have a choice anyway. 
— Don’t touch me. 
— Can’t help it. You’re pretty. 
You feel like you are going to have a fucking panic attack. This is too much – you feel sick, you feel mortified, you are getting your hands out of his hold with the power of surprise and dragging them closer to your mouth, trying to contain the involuntary bile collecting in your throat. You gag, finally feeling all the alcohol you took, getting back to bite you in the ass. 
Before you could say or try anything else, before you could even be bent over, trying to calm yourself down before you dirty everything in this fine-looking bedroom, Brit already dragged you to the bathroom, allowing you to look at the tile floor and white ceramics while you were vomiting your guts, cum, and anxiety out of your stomach. 
It took you a few minutes before you could get anything out – and another few while you were just holding the toilet seat, not even caring about how unsanitary it was. You feel like you’re going to die, the throbbing in your head only intensifying as you could almost feel dropping out of conscience. God, you will never drink again – even though it’s a promise that will break you right after you break it. 
— Bloody hell, love. Easy. Easy. 
— F…fuck you. 
— You will, love. Promise. 
The skull mask guy was rubbing your back the whole time, a motion you didn’t expect from a kidnapper, rapist and a fucking arsehole. He gently took your hair out of the way, he slowly rubbed calming gestures in your aching muscles, and you leaned into his touch, your state was finally reaching the breaking point – you were longing for the soft touch of your captor, not even caring that he is just as awful as his friends, rummaging through various bags somewhere in the other room. 
You cry, the depths of the situation finally getting to you – and he drags you into a tight hug after wiping your mouth with a paper towel, throwing it away before you could feel sick from the smell again. 
He talks you through it with his grovely voice and deep accent, and you can’t help but lean in and listen. 
— Calm down. Can’t have you panicking on my cock. 
— D…don’t touch me. Please. 
— You need this, love. We’re not the worst people who could have picked ya up. 
— You’re a bunch of fucking ra…
He stops you immediately – holds your hand, and drags you back to the bedroom almost too rough, dropping you to the bed before you can manage to scramble your legs and writhe away from his touch. You sob again, crying even more – you don’t have makeup now. Thankfully, everything was mostly wiped out by the paper towels and a mix of your tears, but you still feel horrible. Laying on the soft bed in your soaked panties made you feel like a slut, and this is not the feeling you were expecting out of this night. You just fucking wanted to go home and sleep the alcohol out, not…this. 
— We’ll take care of you. Be a good girl for us, and I will make Johnny pay for not getting you off, eh? 
You can hear the Scot again, emerging from the kitchen in an apron – to your surprise. He looks too domestic, too clean, his hair is a bit disheveled after your little attempt at breaking out, and you can see the resemblance between him and a very, very sad and polite dog. If he had a tail, it would be curled between his knees, a look of genuine guilt almost making you believe that he wanted to apologize for being so forceful. 
— Steamin’ Jesus, I tried to be a gentleman. Didn’t want to scare our lassie too much. 
— She’s shivering. Poor girl, was Johnny this scary? 
— It’s yer mask. Wee things always scared of those. 
They both laugh, clearly not taking your tears seriously. You curl into the bed, trying to protect your exposed breasts and midriff as much as possible. You don’t want to be touched, you feel dirty and used already, but their attentive gaze is making your skin burn and crawl from the feelings you never thought you knew before. It’s a horrible situation, but somehow, you are almost flattered because of how affectionate they both look for someone as insignificant as you. 
Maybe, it’s your brain trying to protect itself from further trauma. Maybe, if you’d lie to yourself long enough, you could pretend you want this. 
Ghost looks at you, drinking the drowning panic in your eyes. You’re so pretty, so helpless, he doesn’t even want to think of what could happen to you if Johnny weren’t here to pick you up. You’d be murdered in cold blood, left laying on the side of the street after a group of some perverts would be done with you. You don’t deserve to be treated like this, you deserve a proper help and calmness of living with them – and he knows that once he is done with bringing his first orgasm with your body, you will learn to love it too. Maybe not at first, but the seeds would be there. 
He tries to be on his best behavior as he slowly drags his body between your legs, catching your ankles once you tried to kick him. You’re like a kitten, growling and hissing, clawing on his hands like it didn’t turn him on even more – he pins you under his weight easily, enjoying the audience of Soap already palming himself through his pants. Fucking pervert – he already came in your mouth not so long ago, but the lieutenant knows that given a chance, his sergeant will break this girl for another three rounds in a row. They can’t have that, right? 
— Calm, love. Don’t make it harder for yourself. 
— Stop…please, just…god, wait, I…
It’s such empty words, he knows you can’t calm yourself down – you’re a pretty girl, really, you’re cute and adorable, and you don’t deserve his firm hand taking off your lace panties, but he knows that you will love it after a few more times. You’re dripping already, a combination of manhandling and previous foreplay making you adorably weak for them. 
— Will make you nice and wet, yeah? Such a pretty cunt, bound to give it a taste. 
— W..wait, please, don’t, really, j…just let me…
— Quiet, love. You’ll fuckin’ love it. 
Ghost drags his fingers straight into your folds, spreading them as quickly as possible. He would love to give you more time to adjust, but he was hard ever since Johnny made that goddamn call, and patience isn’t his best quality when on leave – he needs you in all ways you can handle. On your back, preferably, he wants to see that pretty face of yours when he will bottom himself in your cunt and make you squeal. Maybe play with your ass for a little – if you’re going to be the team’s favorite girl, they need all of your holes ready to be used. 
You squeak from surprise when he drags his mask on the upper half of his face, revealing his mouth. Clean-shaved chin, a bit of uneven blonde stubble, strong jawline – he smirks because he knows he is quite the opposite of ugly, that even after all the burns and scars, he is still that rugged type of handsome that ladies in pubs just love to touch. He wonders if you’re more of a typical pretty boy type – he wonders if you’d like Gaz as much as you love Simon. And you fucking adore him by the sight of your wet pussy almost dripping on his tongue. 
You beg him to stop when he slides his tongue in, the feeling of his harsh fingers stretching you only making everything hotter, less bearable. You don’t want to like it, but he is handsome and strong, he is whispering sweet compliments into your pussy, sliding sloppy kisses all over your folds, not forgetting to pay attention to your throbbing clit. 
“Such a pretty cunt for us. What was the last time she got so much attention?” 
He kisses you down there sloppily, adding another finger almost immediately to really make you feel that burn. You’re crying from stimulation, it’s been a while since the last time you had anything so heated – you just want him to stop, to proceed, to let you go, and also to never stop kissing your pussy and collecting all the juice that’s been flowing from you. You make the bedsheets under your ass wet, and Ghost just can’t help but stretch you a bit more, enjoying the sound of your confused, almost pained squeals. 
“Stop crying, love. I could have taken your arse instead.”
He can only imagine how adorable you’d look, crying from his cock in your plump rear. He is by no means small, and the thought of tearing your pretty arse just a little, making you cry from being filled so much, makes him even harder. He needs to be patient, can’t break your rear before Captain gets here – but god, isn’t patience the hardest virtue. 
“S’good for me. Sorry, love, can’t wait much longer. Got a bloody lovely cunt f’ me” 
You cry even harder when Ghost finally slides his cock in you – one harsh thrust, the sound of his hips slapping against yours, is enough to make you sick again. You’re stretched, dripping wet, it wouldn’t hurt if only he had a normal-sized cock, not the fucking monstrosity he is showing in your underprepared pussy. Nothing would prepare you for this – he started moving immediately, with little regard for your comfort. The niceties he was whispering were falling on deaf ears as he slammed inside of you over and over again. 
You feel sick. 
— Fuck. S’ tight for me. 
You’re clenching around his dick, not allowing him to pull back. Such a pretty girl, he doesn’t know what he would do without that feeling – he wants to fucking devour you whole, to have you laid out for him so prettily. He bottoms finally, stretching you beyond any man could – you feel him somewhere deep, near your cervix, hitting your sensitive walls while all you can do is cry for him to stop tormenting you like this. You can only squeal under him, for him, he is hitting all of your special spots at the same time, and you don’t know if you could really handle him like this. 
His hand lands on your folds, playing with your clit – only making you more and more wet with each second, you almost feel like you are passing the breaking point already. He is stronger than you want him to be, and you feel like he is going to fucking break you, every attempt of squirming from under him is met with a fierce grip on your waist, dragging you back where you belong – moaning and crying on his cock. 
The intrusion stopped being painful after a few minutes, you’re open enough to allow his cock to slide in and out easily. He bites your neck, munching on sensitive flesh like he is going to rip a chuck off you, leaving marks as if he were a wild dog. You moan under him, the feeling of his teeth on your skin isn’t exactly horrible – but not too enjoyable either. 
You squirm softly, hoping he would at least cum soon. 
— That’s right. Dumb civvie girls should just relax for the ride. 
— N…not dumb. I’m not dumb. 
— Only a dumb girl like you would get in Johnny’s hands. S’ry, love, but you really are dumb. 
— I’m…
— It’s alright. We like dumb girls. 
He moans in your ear, biting your earlobe, engaging in a sloppy kiss that allows you to taste your pleasure on his lips. You hate every second, you want to loathe every inch of his body, but his hand is moving faster and faster, steady rhythm that makes you see stars every time he plunges his cock inside – and, oh god, you can’t help but feel your pussy throbbing around him, the tight knot in your lower tummy getting warmer and warmer as his movements steadily brings you to an orgasm. 
It hits you too fast to be prepared for – just a few minutes later, you’re panting under him, mouth open agape as he slides his cock even faster, abusing your poor, sensitive cunt. You’re milking him for cum, not even caring that you are not on the pill – you just concentrate on the head of his cock hitting your G-spot in the most perfect of timings and his rough fingertips caressing your clit in a way that makes you go wild. 
You cum with a cry, soft, squeaky sobs escaping your lips as you hiccup and moan, pressing your hips against his in an attempt to become as close as possible. You feel his hot cum filling you up, a slight bulge in your lower tummy becoming even more prominent. 
Ghost kisses you on the forehead as he slowly emerges from you, hissing as your tight walls refuse to let him go. You’re so fucking perfect, all flushed and panting heavily, neck covered in bite marks and outline of his bruises forming on your waist. 
He pats your pussy a few times, making you shiver from the feeling. 
— Such a pretty girl. Lay here, your cunt is goin’ to be a bit more visitors today. 
He smiles, kissing you on the lips again – you whimper, curling on the bed, feeling the hot cum dripping from your exhausted, sore pussy. You feel his hand affectionately patting your head as if you were a cat, and he hums in approval when you instinctively lean towards his hand, getting as much affection as you possibly can. He brings you a pillow and drags your head so it would rest more comfortably – and you already feel extremely tired, your eyes closing. 
You’re almost ready to sleep when you feel the Scot sliding in bed with you, slowly spreading your legs.
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merakiui · 2 months
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タコの花嫁。
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yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, arranged marriage, oviposition, breeding, royalty au note - in an effort to bring peace to two warring sides, you are engaged to the sea queen’s son.
If anyone is to blame for the abysmal diplomacy between the Land and the Sea, it would be your ancestors. Pompous and foolhardy, they thought they could rule the grand seas stretching out from the harbor, beyond weather-worn docks with their rotted, seaweed-strewn planks and briny fetor. The ocean was vast, unexplored territory—a dangerous, deceptive beauty harboring life far beneath unruly waves.
And your ancestors intended to claim it.
Sailors would recount tales of fishfolk—uncanny creatures who looked more marine than the two-legged mammals of the land. They’d raise mugs, each overflowing with ale, in drunken merriment, terrifying themselves with the mysteries of the deep, dark sea.
“It ought to give ya a proper scare straight to Davy Jones himself!” they’d say, voices lowered conspiratorially. “Soon as yer candle goes out and all ya’ve got’s the moon to guide ya… You’ll hear ’em slip through the water if yer listenin’ well enough.”
“You ever go and spy one up close?”
“I’d sooner see the Devil himself and let him keelhaul me before facin’ those cursed beasts!”
“The cut of their jib ain’t so pretty. Enough to give men like us a fright and we’ve seen all sorts of somethin’.”
“Monsters, I say! Monsters!”
Festivals were held to keep these beasts at bay—to prevent them from gathering the courage to creep up onto the land. Every year, during the summer solstice, pits were hollowed on the shore and bordered with stones. Flames licked towards the sky, red-orange fingers clawing for purchase amidst the stars above. Townsfolk would sing and dance late into the eve, bellowing songs passed through the generations. Children would skip up and down the beach, torches in hand, and cry out an old chant: “Fish for you and me are meant to stay in the sea! Should you see one on land, may the Heavens strike it down with a gentle, loving hand!”
Their excitement did well to ward off the fishfolk. Sometimes the lone child would spot one in the distance, peeking out from between the rocks before diving back under in a splash.
On land, humans were safe. On land, the fishfolk couldn’t catch them.
It was different in the sea.
Ships were destroyed in terrible tempests. The waves tossed them around as if they were nothing. Many sailors would find their demise at the bottom of the ocean, torn to shreds with shattered skeletons. Viscerally brutalized, they died with secrets on their tongues—secrets of the strange fishfolk who’d drag them down, down, down to a watery grave.
On one cold February afternoon, the octopus prince was brought into the world. In shadowed fathoms, a grand celebration was held. After so much time—misfortune after misfortune—one fry survived out of the entire clutch. He was round and soft and small, colored blue from exertion and fighting through the tug of the current to reach home. The Sea Queen met him halfway and embraced him, ecstatic tears in her eyes, for a mother’s love is stronger than any political power.
“My little Azul,” she said, stroking a hand along his cheek, “how precious you are.”
No ships were sunk; no lives were lost. It was a peaceful day for both the Land and the Sea. And it would continue to be so in the future. Every year on that same February, it was made a day of peace to honor the little prince.
A day of life, not death.
It was on that same February eleven years later when you were tossed into the frigid depths like a hatchling cast out of its nest. Similarly, your birth had been a wondrous occasion. Your parents brought five boys into the world, each just as adored as the last, but they had been hoping for a daughter. It was a miracle when their fervent wishes were finally granted. You were spoiled as all daughters often are, pampered and doted on by your family and the palace staff.
Your brothers, though protective and caring, were a troublesome and rowdy bunch. Kyffin was the eldest. Two years younger was Emyr, and another two years behind him was Owin. A year younger than him were twins Morcan and Martyn. They picked on you as all immature boys often do when caught up in sibling rivalries, aiming to be the only one their parents see. To prove themselves as the best, the strongest, the wisest.
So it was with a half-cruel heart that Emyr tossed you into the waves from where he stood in the rowboat.
“Only way to learn is with exposure!” he called down to you, watching as you struggled against the push and pull of the sea. 
“C-Can’t!” you shouted back, choking on salt and flailing about. “E-Emyr, I can’t—can’t swim!”
“Don’t be silly,” Owin added with a sweet smile. “It’s how we learned. That old sod threw us right in. You’re lucky it’s us and not him. He was awfully mean with it, wasn’t he?”
“Terribly so.” Emyr watched your struggling a moment longer and clicked his tongue. He held the oar out just before you could slip under, and you clung to it with shaky hands. “Come on—let’s get you up here. You’re not gonna get it today.”
“Fin got it on his first try.”
“Fin gets everything on his first bloody try.”
Relieved, your heart pounding like a drum, you peered up at your brothers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it…”
“Nothing to apologize for. You’ll get it one day.”
“We’ll keep trying until then. And once you do, we’ll throw you a big party.”
“Really? Will you really do that?” Your expression brightened, but your brothers’ faces darkened. They saw the shadow before you did. Saw the webbed hands reaching out, the serrated teeth glinting in a sinister smile.
And then—
Owin leaned over, his arm outstretched. So fluid was his motion that it took you by surprise. “(Name), grab on! Hurry! Before—”
The rest of his warning was muffled by the water. You hardly had any time to brace yourself when you were yanked under, your nails raking across the wood of the oar as you went with the force of the pull. Salt stung your eyes when you cracked them open, peering frantically at blurry surroundings. Teal-green specks slid silently through the shadows, mismatched eyes flicking over your form. And then there was a high, raucous sort of chittering. Like a dolphin’s cry, loud and piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your palms against your ears.
It only lasted a few mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity trapped in the coils of a creature you couldn’t comprehend. One moment you were holding your breath and the next arms were hooked around your torso, and you were pulled up and into the belly of the rowboat. Your hands flew to your throat, and you coughed up seawater while Owin patted you.
“It’s fine. It’s…okay,” Emyr muttered, his voice shot through with fear. It was the most shaken he’d ever sounded.
Blood fogged in the water, staining the tip of his harpoon. He gazed down at his hand. A deep, jagged gash ran angrily from palm to wrist. He hissed and closed his fingers in a tight fist.
“We gotta get back,” Owin was saying, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’ll row. You rest.”
“Not good,” Emyr said instead, shaking his head in dismay as he watched your attackers retreat.
“We’re still in our waters, right? We didn’t go past the boundary, did we?”
“Let’s hope not.”
“We didn’t, right?”
“Let’s hope—” Emyr paused, collecting his words. “Let’s hope those monsters were in the wrong.”
“Father’s gonna kill us.”
“If not us, the monsters.”
Both brothers looked towards you. Your tunic was torn, stained through with saltwater and blood. You shivered all the way to shore.
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Following that mishap, an official meeting was called between the Land and the Sea. The King—your father—met the Sea Queen at the border. He stood proud on his ship, peering down at her with fire in his old eyes.
“Your Majesty.”
The Sea Queen was just as formidable as those who came before her. Her tentacles unfurled as one, and if you looked at them long enough they almost seemed to take on the shape of an obsidian-colored crinoline.
“I believe my mother and your father made the terms quite clear all those years ago,” she said, a wave lifting her to meet the King at the deck of his ship. “So then, with that in mind, there should be no reason for us to meet under these circumstances.”
Emyr and Owin stood just behind their father. You peered through their legs at the Sea Queen, silently amazed. You’d never seen anyone quite like her before. At least, not a real person. You’d seen her in storybooks, depicted as a fearsome beast with devilish features, and though there was something intimidating about her gaze and build she appeared understanding enough. Her grey skin was sleek in the morning sun, her long, silvery strands tied up and pinned with an ornate hair ornament. She looked beautiful in a magical, enigmatic way.
“I couldn’t agree more,” came the clipped response of your father. “Alas, misfortune has brought us here.” He stepped aside to allow her to behold Emyr’s bandaged hand. “Harm has befallen my son and daughter. I suppose you might have an inkling as to why they find themselves in their current state?”
She frowned, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or some other emotion. “Perhaps one of them can give reason to the wound now marring one of my subject’s sons.”
Your father glanced overboard at the snake-like merman cradled in the arms of another merman. They looked near-identical, their features unmistakable. He glanced back at Emyr, his gaze hard. “Go on then. Explain yourself.”
Emyr stepped forward. “With wholehearted respect, Your Majesty, it was out of self-defense. Your kind—they attacked us first.”
“You were in our waters!” one of the mers exclaimed, pointing a clawed finger towards Emyr. “It’s all your fault Jade got hurt!”
Owin hurried ahead, his hands gripping the taffrail. “He’s playing it up! It was a graze!”
“He could’ve died! You almost killed him!”
“That is enough,” the Sea Queen said, jutting an arm out to silence both sides. “I understand everyone is hurt here. Our feud lies in misunderstanding.” She gazed at you next. “Little one, we have yet to hear your story. Do share.”
You glanced at the guards, at Owin and Emyr, and then at father. He nodded encouragingly. “U-Um!” Shyly, you approached the Sea Queen. “My brothers were teaching me how to swim. I don’t know anything about whose water is whose. I just wanted to learn how to swim.” You met the fierce scowl of the mer holding his twin brother and quickly looked elsewhere. “He grabbed me before my brothers could pull me up.”
“Because you were trespassing. Anyone who tresspasses ought to—”
“Floyd.”
At the not-so-subtle warning in his father’s voice, he shut his mouth and snarled. His brother—Jade—was handed off to their father, who assessed his state with a frown.
“He will live, but it will take time for him to recover. My son is right. Your son could have killed him.”
“Just as your sons could have killed my sister!” Owin shouted, glaring.
Floyd stuck his tongue out, remorseless.
“It is impossible to know which side is in the wrong,” your father began, turning towards the Sea Queen. “Seeing as both have been injured, I am willing to apologize on behalf of my sons.”
“What?!” Owin’s head turned towards his father. “You’re bloody mad! Have you not seen—”
“Father,” Emyr interjected evenly. “We have nothing to apologize for. We were within our waters. We had no ill will towards the others. It was completely innocent.”
The Sea Queen hummed her contemplation. “The boundary was drawn for a reason, decided upon by those who came before us, and yet it does more harm than good. It is not for safety’s sake. It is to keep us divided—to ensure that neither side will ever know peace.”
“And you’re implying that we get rid of it?”
She nodded, quite serious. Everyone looked on in equal parts shock and disbelief. “Why do we continue to fight? It does nothing but open old wounds, rendering them incurable. Innocent lives are lost in petty squabbling. And for what?”
To that, no one could offer a smart reply.
“Therefore I propose peace. A union to welcome a new era—one in which we embrace one another as allies without animosity.”
“A union?” Your father raised a brow, suspicious but willing to listen. “I suppose it would be beneficial. My people would be free to travel the seas at their leisure.” “And mine would no longer have to live in fear of being thoughtlessly slaughtered and taken as trophies.”
“Unbelievable,” Orwin muttered.
Emyr elbowed him. “Knock it off.”
“We’ll collaborate on a contract. One that dissolves the invisible boundary that has been the cause for so much suffering. In order to attain true peace, I shall offer you my only son.” She glanced at you and then back at your father. “Your daughter shall marry him when they are of age.”
“What?! No way! Ew! Gross!” Your voice came out shrill and you shook your head in protest. “I don’t wanna marry an octopus! No, I won’t do it!”
Your father stood in front of you. “She’s my only daughter. If something were to happen—”
“Which is precisely why I bring up this engagement. Should they be betrothed, we as their parents will promise to uphold peace to give them bright futures and they will act as the first example of a human-mer alliance. Unions between humans and merfolk are unheard of, but is this not the best way to foster harmony between the Land and Sea?”
“I won’t do it! No! Don’t make me marry a gross—” Emyr gathered you in his arms, holding his uninjured hand over your mouth.
“Let the grown-ups talk.”
Owin frowned. “I still don’t agree with this…”
Your father mulled it over, his eyes glazed in thought. “Very well. We will create a contract—an official peace treaty.”
Both leaders shook hands and planned to convene at the end of the week to discuss further.
You watched the mers depart, each one slipping under the sea. Floyd was the last to go, staring at you with a mean sort of vitriol. And then he, too, dove under.
“He didn’t mean it, right?” you whispered to Emyr after your father gave the order to turn the ship around and head for land. “I won’t have to marry an octopus, right?”
Emyr could only offer a commiserate frown.
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“She’s a brat,” Floyd spits. “Stupid, evil Two Legs.”
Jade chuckles and runs his fingers over the scar. “I consider it an honor.”
“Yeah, well, I think it’s messed up. She’s the reason you can’t ever swim naturally again. While she’s up there in her pretty, little tower, safe and sound, you’re still hurting.”
“It’s not as much of a hindrance as you may think. I’m not weak, mind you.”
Floyd grumbles. “Still. She’s mean.”
Azul gazes up at the palace, sighing dreamily. “She’ll be my wife someday. That’s what humans call it, yes? Husband and wife… What wonderful words.”
It’s been one year since the peace treaty. Since then, humans and merfolk have made an effort to get along. This is the second time Azul will be meeting with you. He’s nervous. The first time you went out to sea to greet him, and he’d gotten so anxious that he inked right then and there. His mother entertained you from where you sat in the boat with your personal guard. It was a mortifying experience—one that had taken him months to recover from.
Now he’s going to try to meet you in the shallows. Try is the key word here. He’s scared, all three hearts beating as one. Is it too late to reschedule?
“I can’t believe you’re actually okay with this. You that lonely?”
Azul turns to scowl at both twins, but it’s mostly directed at Floyd. “I never asked you to tag along. Leave me alone.”
Jade smiles. “And let the Queen���s little prince swim to his death?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Sure you can. But what about when Two Legs gets ya? What then?”
“She wouldn’t do that.”
Floyd rolls his eyes. “You saw what her brothers did to Jade.”
“Because you tried to kill her.”
“Because she was in our territory!”
Azul huffs and pushes him away with a tentacle. “Regardless, we’re supposed to be on good terms now. You’ll break the contract if you try anything dangerous.”
“He’s right, Floyd.”
“Ugh. Whatever.” Floyd turns away, stubborn. “This is lame. I’m not stickin’ around.”
Jade lingers long enough to observe the way Azul lights up when he spots you on the stone steps. And then he disappears beneath the water.
Barefoot, holding your dress up and out of the way, you pad across the beach.
“Why are you here? I’m busy. My brothers are taking me into town.”
The smile that had been fighting to break out on his face frosts over. “Oh. I… Um…” Azul fumbles with the conch shell he’d collected on the way here. A gift for you. He made sure to study human speech patterns in the months leading up to this meeting. He’s fully prepared! And yet you look so displeased. “F-For you! I found it…”
You stare at the shell clutched in a dark tentacle. Tentatively, you reach for it. “Why?”
“Ah. W-Well, my mother says gifts are an important part of any bond. In the sea, we give gifts to the ones we care about. To friends and family and o-other halves…”
You turn the shell over in your hands. “We’re not friends.”
“Not yet,” he tries, but you shake your head.
“You ran away from me the last time we met. That’s not very friendly.”
His face flushes blue and he opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. It wasn’t on purpose.
You’re already turning on your heel. “I don’t have time for this.” You toss the shell over your shoulder. Azul watches it land in the sand, just out of his grasp.
“W-Wait! I… I want to talk to you. Please don’t go. You’re going to be my other half one day, so I’d like to—”
But you’re already dashing across the beach to get to the stairs.
Azul deflates against the rock. Tears overflow in floods. Is it because of him? Is he to blame? Why don’t you want to be his friend? Is it because of the peace treaty? Why?
Why? Why? Why?
Azul doesn’t want to think negatively of you. Humans are sensitive creatures. He reads up on them in the palace library, poring over literature and textbooks in an effort to better understand you. But as the months pass and you seem to simply tolerate him for the sake of the alliance, he begins to suspect something.
It’s made apparent the next time he sees you, where you walk right past the beach to catch up with your brothers. He hides behind the rocks, two blue eyes following your figure until you’re out of sight.
Floyd was right. You are a brat.
And yet he can’t hate you.
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On the eve of your eighteenth birthday, Azul meets you in the shallows.
Nowadays you send letters, preferring strained long distance over the personal intimacy of face-to-face relations. These exchanges are purely diplomatic. But now that he’s asked to meet with you, a rare occurrence, you’ve deigned to greet him in person. It’s the least you can do after he’s gone through the trouble to travel here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him that he’s almost unrecognizable. You remember the round, baby-faced octo-mer from your childhood. The one who lounges against the rocks is leaner now—his features defined, jawline as sharp as his eyes. They cut through the gloom to find you.
“You wished to see me?” You’re in your nightwear, a silky gown with an even softer robe. A cool breeze blows across the beach, and you wrap your arms around yourself for extra warmth. “Azul?”
He hesitates, his gaze trailing up your legs. You’ve also changed a lot in the time you’ve been apart. You’ve grown taller, filling out in places he didn’t know humans could fill. What he’d give to hold you… His mother says he needs to be patient. Fickle thing that you are, you’re the reason he’s spent six years trying to appease you through letters—to win you over and be anything more than that “annoying octopus” you’re doomed to marry. Perhaps it would have been easier to act just as you do if it weren’t for the fact that he’d been elated at the premise of having someone to love. When his mother broached the idea in the days following her meeting with the Land King, he’d stared at her with wide, excited eyes.
“There’s a human girl who wants to be my friend?” he asked, to which his mother smiled and nodded.
More than a friend, actually, but then all he was focused on was finally getting to experience the one thing he’d never known or had: friendship.
Sighing, he foregoes formality and holds out a necklace. It dangles from the tip of his tentacle. Strung on a dainty, silver strand, pearls wink back at you under the moonlight. Azul averts his eyes, his cheeks a pleasant periwinkle.
“Happy birthday…”
“Oh.” You move in closer, taking the necklace from him. His tentacle pursues you, twining delicately around your wrist. “Um… What is it? Do you need—whoa!”
Azul tugs you closer. The sea laps at your ankles. Beneath a tapestry of stars, you meet his azure stare. His features are set with a determination you’ve never seen before.
“I want to start over.”
“Start over?”
“I’d like to be on friendly terms with you. We’re so cold. Distant…” Azul frowns, seeming unsure of what to say or do next. The tentacle laced around your wrist like a bracelet tightens its hold. “We’re to be wed one day. I want to make this work.”
You blink at him. He thinks he may have gotten through to you, having finally broken through layers of stone and ice, but then your nose scrunches and odium shimmers in your gaze.
“That’s impossible. I’m a human. How am I supposed to live with an octopus?” You shake him off with a huff. “I’m not sure what our parents think this will accomplish. I don’t want to be a pawn to be moved around for the sake of peace. I’m my own person.”
Azul’s expression sours. His lip curls up into a sneer. “Well, I don’t find it very enjoyable either. You’re not the only victim in this scenario.”
You exhale an exhausted breath. “Azul, I appreciate the gift, but it doesn’t mean anything if you’re only giving it to me to curry favor.”
I wasn’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Admitting it would be a weakness. Admitting it would mean coming to terms with an unrequited opinion.
“At least one of us is making a conscious effort.”
“At least one of us isn’t trying so hard. It’s pathetic.”
“You’re not obligated to accept my goodwill.” He smiles, smug. “Yet you do every time. I’d wager you enjoy my materialistic affections.”
“As if.” Despite this, you hold the necklace out of his reach when a tentacle flexes towards it. “It’s mine now.”
“So you are fond of my ‘pathetic’ ways!”
“I’m not!”
You jerk away with a vicious scowl, but your foot catches in the sand and you quickly find yourself tipping backwards. If not for the tentacles that coil around your waist to steady you, you would have fallen on your rear. Your chest heaves with adrenaline. Stunned, you stare at Azul.
“You…caught me,” you breathe, lips parted in awe.
“Did you think I’d let you fall?” He cocks his head at you, grinning playfully. “Why, I’d never! Unless it’s me you’re falling for, in which case I gladly welcome the—”
“You’re such a pest.” Untangling yourself from his grasp, which he allows without scrimmage, you step away from the water’s edge. He watches you secure the pearls around your neck, and his hearts stumble in his chest when you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t delude yourself with foolish nonsense. I have no interest in you.”
With an indignant harrumph, you start towards the palace.
“May we meet here tomorrow?” Azul calls out after you, testing his luck with what little chance he has.
“Don’t push it.”
“I’ll wait for you.”
“Good. Keep waiting, dummy!” You break into a sprint, hurrying off into the shadows.
Azul smiles at the empty beach. Whether or not you like him, it doesn’t matter. You’re to be his one day. You’ve always been, ever since he was eleven.
He’ll wait, even if you won’t show.
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Ostensibly, twenty-one years wise, you’re getting married today.
Your gown is just as exquisite as your hair and makeup. Pearls cling to your throat and arms—classic wedding attire for merfolk. A thin veil shields the scheme in your stare.
This was an inevitability, but you’re determined to fight it until the end. No matter how quickly time seems to pass, you’ll do everything you can to stall and slow it.
Gripping a sharpened dagger in a resolute fist, you drag it through the long, sprawling train of your gown.
“As if I’d marry an octopus,” you grumble, cutting fine fabric until you’re permitted smoother movement. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you scowl. “I’m no one’s bride.”
By the time the maids arrive to check on you, you’ve already stolen out the window.
The rowboat sways on choppy water. You’ve watched your brothers do this enough times to have the technique engraved in your memory. Your arms strain with the oars, every muscle screaming in protest, but you fight through the pain. The palace looks smaller and smaller with every passing minute. Eventually, you’re so far out that the land is but a mere speck.
It’s going well. You’re escaping towards a better future—a future without the octopus prince.
You glance towards the horizon. Your boat undulates with the waves.
You’ll miss your brothers, your maids, your personal guard…
Water slops over the edge. You yelp, startled. Have the seas always been so rough?
Despite everything, you’ll miss your father.
Just as you think this, your boat rocks to the side. You grab onto the edge to steady yourself, but it’s already too late. It tips over and you go with it, careening into the sea with a noisy splash. Twin shadows cut seamlessly through the murky water. You catch sight of a yellow eye before you propel yourself towards the sky, coughing and heaving once you break the surface. You grab onto the overturned rowboat, your dagger clutched in one hand.
You search the surface for them, eyes flicking to and fro in a frantic panic.
Somewhere… Anywhere… Where are you?
And then you find them, peering at you from the other side of the boat.
“Go on then,” you spit, glaring. “Kill me.”
Floyd bares his teeth at you. “This time I ain’t gonna leave a scar.”
“You know we mustn’t. That’s not why we’re here.” Jade smiles at you, but there’s something in his eyes that unnerves you. “Your Highness, you should know it’s poor manners to leave the groom on his special day.”
Floyd circles you restlessly. “S’not fair we gotta be nice when you’re so mean.”
“I’m not going to marry him.”
“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in that matter.”
“What’d Azul ever do to you?”
You attempt to answer that before realizing the truth. Nothing. He’s done absolutely nothing but be kind and understanding and patient. And I took that, chewed it up, and spat in his face.
“If you used that brain of yours, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself to the sharks. We can’t get to you on land.” “But it’s fair game in the sea,” Floyd finishes, every syllable dripping with pride. “Stupid Two Legs.”
“I’m inclined to agree. You’re not the brightest human. A pity.”
“My brother should’ve gutted you when he had the chance. Maybe then—”
You see the whites of Floyd’s eyes when he strikes, launching himself at you with a clawed hand, sharp, pointed teeth aiming for your jugular.
This is it. You’re dead.
…or not.
The searing pain never comes, nor does the impending laceration. You cling to the boat and watch dark tentacles rise from the depths to close around Floyd, ensnaring him in a firm hold. He thrashes, snapping his jaws like a deranged beast.
“Let go of me, Azul! Lemme at her! She’s a bitch! I’ll kill her!”
“There will be none of that.” Azul tuts. “I don’t intend to marry a corpse.”
Jade swims over to you. “My feelings aren’t hurt in the slightest, Your Highness. If it weren’t for your status and connection to Azul, I’d have disemboweled you ages ago. Quite a relief for you, yes?”
You swallow your horror, allowing him to detach you from the boat so that Azul can turn it over. A tentacle curls around your waist, lifts you from the water, and places you back in the boat. You stare at your hands. They’re trembling. You can hardly hold the dagger properly.
It takes some convincing and a lukewarm apology from you, but Floyd promises to be good. He doesn’t do anything as you’re pulled back to shore, but he does stare at you for the duration of the trip, his eyes tracking your every movement. You press yourself into the belly of the boat, defeated and riddled with anxiety.
Your father isn’t pleased. When you see his enraged expression, the debate dies on your tongue. “You are to marry the prince,” he seethes, pulling you aside, “or else you jeopardize the peace of our kingdom.”
You’re washed and fitted in a new dress. Guards are stationed at all possible routes to prevent another escape.
When you walk down the beach to meet Azul in the shallows, your veil shields the sadness in your stare.
The ceremony carries on without incident. Floyd watches from the water, lurking like Death. You speak rehearsed vows in robotic monotone, mindlessly floating through the rigmarole like it’s second nature. Azul smiles at you through it all, sweetly smitten.
It’s a nightmare lived in real time.
Humans and mers alike congratulate you, cheering for this momentous occasion. Your tongue is numb by the end of it all. You’ve expressed faux gratitude so many times that it hurts to even force the words. And now, as night descends and the party kicks into full swing, you’re left reflecting on the day.
Freedom feels so far away. You’ll never know it again, will you?
Azul guides you away from the crowd. Firelight grows dim with the distance. Eventually, you find yourself taking refuge in a tiny inlet cut into the beach. A rocky outcrop hides you from the moon’s spotlight.
“I’m not upset,” Azul murmurs, curling a tentacle up your leg. “But Floyd is.”
“His brother’s the one who hurt me all those years ago.”
“That was before the union.”
“I’m not letting it go.”
“Perhaps not now, but you will. One day.”
You don’t believe him.
“Our people are at peace. Aren’t you pleased, my love?”
You shove him away, gathering heaps of your dress to walk in calf-deep water. “I’m not your love.”
“Legally, you are.”
“That means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”
Azul sighs. “Even now, after everything, you’re still trying to flee.”
“For good reason. I don’t want to be tied down.”
Azul inches closer. Another tentacle wraps slyly around your ankle.
“You’re so beautiful. I feel like the luckiest mer in the sea. To be able to call you my own… My beautiful bride.” He pulls you closer. You resist weakly. “Now that we’re alone I can finally tell you the very thing I’ve thought of ceaselessly for years.”
A tentacle slides up your leg, straying closer to your inner thigh. You flinch away.
“Azul, wait. I don’t want—”
“I love you.”
You squirm in his hold, attempting to thwart the tentacles that grab at your every limb. You trip over yourself in the process. This time Azul doesn’t catch you. Water laps at your dress, soaking through at once. He’s radiant beneath the moon. Dreading his touch, you scoot as far from him as you can get in the water, hoping to reach land. Azul seizes your wrist and pulls you into his arms. You fight him with more force.
“No… No, let go of me! Release me!”
“Why should I? You’re mine now. Is it not customary for a married couple to consummate their new bond? We do something similar in the sea.” A tentacle brushes your veil back so that he can look upon your pretty face. “I’d take you to a quiet space in the seagrass, lay you down in the sand, and then—”
“I don’t want that! No!” You lash out, swinging blindly. A tentacle shoots out to stop your arm before it can smack him. “Azul, please—”
“I was patient. I waited and waited in hopes that you might warm up to me. I cherished you in silence. I learned your language. Your customs. Your habits. I wrote to you. Traveled to meet you. And yet you look at me as if I’m a monster…”
It’s not the devastated look in his eyes or the edge in his voice that scares you. It’s the startling gentleness with which he handles you. Tentacles loop around your body, exploring beneath your gown. You wriggle in discomfort, yelping when suckers brush against the frilly garter secured around your thigh. Azul hums and holds you up in his tentacles, using two to spread your legs so that he may slide it from your leg.
“I wasn’t forceful. I courted you kindly. You accepted all of my gifts. You wore them proudly and I thought—I knew you would love me, too. You were mine from the moment our parents signed that agreement. And if you leave me, you’ll break a political promise and then our kingdoms will go to war and I’ll be sure to collect the heads of your family first. Each one of them, and you will watch as I bring ruin to the kingdom you love so fondly.”
“N-No… Please stop. Please.”
“I’ve waited ten years for you.” A tentacle hooks around your panties. You thrash again, shaking your head at him. He remains unconvinced, watching with gleeful eyes as your nudity is revealed to him. “And aren’t you an angel? Oh, you’re so pretty…”
Like your hopes, your panties are cast aside.
The tip of a tentacle prods curiously at your pussy. Your breath hitches.
“W-Wait! You… You can’t.” His eyes find yours, and you swallow the rising sob. “T-That can’t go inside… It won’t fit. It won’t—”
Azul smiles. “Of course it will. The human body is capable of marvelous feats.”
Even though it’s pointless, you struggle. “I can’t! Please… Azul, I’m scared. Please don’t do this…”
A lone tentacle slides into your hand. Thoughtless, you hold tight.
“My love, there’s no need to cry. I’m not going to hurt you.” He brings you closer, kissing your tears away. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here, even when you didn’t seem to need me.”
You hiccup, your chest heaving. It’s not lonely for long, for he pulls your dress down your shoulders. Your breasts spill free and are quickly cradled in cold hands. Azul watches your expression with an intense focus while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. You grit your teeth, refusing to respond. But then the tentacle between your legs finds your clit and a sucker affixes to it, suctioning slowly. You gasp and throw your head back, bolts of pleasure racing up your spine. It happens in a white-hot flash. You slacken in his grasp.
Azul laughs, astonished. “Did you cum? Already?”
“Nooo,” you whine, closing your hand around the tentacle once more. Another one strokes your cheek. “You’ve had your fun. Now let go of me…”
“What a silly demand.”
He tugs on your nipples. You groan, lashes fluttering. “Ooh… Stop. No, stop it… Don’t touch there. Not—haa… Not there!”
“You’re so sensitive.” He drags the underside of a tentacle along your cunt and shivers. “And so wet… Is this your season? Do humans experience such a thing?”
You’ve no idea what he’s referring to, but before you can dwell on it he leans down to take your perky bud in his mouth. Your free hand grabs at his hair, pinning him to your chest. His tongue laves across it, warm and wet. You shouldn’t enjoy it so much, and yet you can’t stop yourself from crying out.
He hums against your skin, beaming like a devil. You can’t hate him. He’s your husband. He’s yours. You shouldn’t hate him.
You’re falling apart in his tentacles, grinding down to chase the bliss provided by the underside of the appendage clinging to your pussy. The sinful squelch of skin on skin fills the quiet inlet. The scent of sex and salt intermingles. It’s wrong and it’s right. It’s instinct, carnal and corrupt. Azul groans against your breast, your teat between his teeth.
“Az—ooh!” You tug on his hair, insatiable. Your brain is fogging over with lust. You don’t want to lose yourself in this madness. You can’t. “N-No more… No more.” 
But he’s not listening. He pinches your other nipple between his fingers, and that’s all it takes for you to unravel.
In the aftermath, the tapered tip of a thicker tentacle squirms between your thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs and lift your hips for him. It presses in shallowly, a jarring experience.
“Not inside—don’t! You can’t!”
Azul pulls away from you, his expression scrunched in woozy ecstasy. “Why not?” he mumbles, smiling stupidly. “You’re my bride. It’s only fair…”
Before you can bicker, he kisses you. His tongue pursues yours in a sloppy tango. You lick into his mouth, desperate and dazed. Lost in a sea of salacity, shipwrecked on an island of forgotten inhibitions.
The tentacle pushes through rings of tight, slick muscle. Tears spring to your eyes. It feels weird and foreign, so unlike your fingers. He holds you close, minding his strength and pace. It fills you slowly, reaching places you’ve never been able to feel. The lust numbs your senses and gives way to something animalistic—a base desire you’ve suppressed. Azul rocks the appendage deeper until it’s pushed up against the entrance to your womb, squeezed snugly in your warm walls.
“I-It’s in…” you mumble once he’s broken the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths. “It’s really…inside me…”
Azul kisses your cheek and pets you with a tentacle. “We were made for each other.”
Surely not, you think, but it feels so when he draws back and thrusts in. Maybe he’s right.
He fucks you gently, savoring every single sound you make. He tells you he loves you, whispers it over and over like it’s prayer. You nod dumbly, grabbing at his hand to hold it. The both of you are gasping in unison, chasing cloud nine. In just a few more deep strokes, his tip bullying its way to your womb, he finally finds his end. A thin substance fills you up in plentiful amounts. Distantly, you think it’s water until he drags your hips further down. Your mouth drops open in a strangled scream as something round and gelatinous passes through. It settles in your womb, and you know right away that it shouldn’t be there.
You panic. “W-Wait… Wha—Zul… Stop… No, I don’t want—”
“It’s all right,” he breathes, his mouth on your shoulder. He soothes you with soft shushes and even softer kisses. “You’re okay. I’m here.”
You dig your nails into the tentacle curled in your palm just as a second orb squeezes through. He groans, his eyes squeezed shut.
“Finally…” He pants, a wobbly smile stretching on his delirious countenance. “Finally, my love, my dear—oh, my beloved bride!”
He cradles you like a mother would a newborn. You lie there as he fills you, your voice hoarse from babbling and bewailing. These things—little orbs of jelly—are stuffed into your womb, and by the time you surpass twenty you lose count and blank out, trembling through yet another orgasm. You’re not sure how many more he has left or how many more you can possibly fit. It feels too good to think about that.
“Bigger. They’ll get bigger. You’ll look so pretty—round and full and soft.”
Dizzy, you glance at the bloated dome that is your belly. Your gown strains over it, an impressively deceptive size that you almost mistake for pregnancy. That’s when it clicks. Eggs. These are eggs.
“I’ll make sure they survive. All of them—as many as I possibly can. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll keep you content. I’ll fill you with love—so much love—an abundance of it, and you’ll never know emptiness again,” he rambles, resting a tentacle over your distended middle.
It’s not just a senseless sweet nothing. It’s a promise.
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1427 · 1 month
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petal plush’d
Daryl Dixon x Reader
Summary:
Sinnedenoderum: Floral Species - When inhaled by human beings it has psychoactive properties as well as acting on the nervous and vascular systems. Often causes a lack of inhibitions and desire or delusion of the need for sexual intercourse. In some cases will cause tumecense in individuals affected. 
Setting: Season 2, the farm. 
Warnings; dub-con (reader is willing but daryl doesn’t ask), drugging (sex pollen, without consent/forcefully), size!kink, panty sniffing, oral (m and f), unprotected piv, mentions of vomit (no one actually vomits), rough sex, swelling genitalia, poorly written SMUT, no plot just VIBES (sex pollen vibes)
Word Count: 3k
A/n: heed the tags y’all. Enter at your own risk. This is more idea/concept than good prose so; sorry if it’s written like dogshit.
18+ mdni. 
masterlist
Daryl should know better. Everyone who ever known anything up in the mountains knew you don’t smell the purple flowers. Daryl shouldn’t be wasting any time smelling any flowers. Supposed to be out hunting. But nah, had to stop and do it. After all there was a whole damn bush of ‘em. How could he not? 
Honestly, he’d probably already been influenced by the time he kneeled down and took a big inhale. The spores already creeping in and taking hold of him. As soon as he does it, he stands up straight as an arrow. A mission. A need. An ache. 
He stalks back to camp, handful of flowers and spores that he’s tracking all through the forest. This is how they spread. This is how they used the human species to populate. 
He’s over by the tents, blinking back into reality as he unzips yours. He doesn’t know it’s yours, doesn’t care. Doesn’t matter. His brain is reset - back to zero. Back to puberty and being so horny he could fucking die and he’s going to find a pair of used underwear and he’s going to put it in his fucking mouth. His ears are pounding, he’s never felt dirtier. His cock rock hard and killing him. 
Your few pairs of dirty panties are hidden in a ball in the bottom of your backpack and they are honestly disgusting. Just exactly how Daryl likes them. Worn maybe a few days, and when you were working in the sun. Sweaty and salty and tangy and delicious. His saliva bringing the taste back to life on his tongue, his eyes roll back into his head.
He’s an animal. On all fours in your half unzipped tent with a wad of soiled underwear in his mouth. Hand shooting down his pants to touch himself but it doesn’t feel like anything. 
Nah, he should know better. Knew it wouldn’t. Knew he either had to ride it out or find a girl. But now he knew he had to find whoever these belonged to. This fuckin’ taste. He needed you. 
He quickly scours the tent for a clue as to whose tent it is. Coming across some silly charm bracelet he’s seen you wear and a few notebooks he’s definitely seen you writing in. 
Daryl exits the tent with a bit more hesitancy, his heart pounding even harder. Part of his brain fighting back against what he knew this flower was about to make him do to you. 
This is how they spread. 
He comes across you alone on the far edge of the field hanging laundry on the line, almost hidden in the tall grass that edged the property, grateful that he didn’t have to face anyone else like this. His hand covers his hard dick in his pants before he calls out to you, “Hey!” 
You jump, not realizing anyone had been out here with you, wondering how long he’d been standing there. You give him a once over and realize something’s wrong, he’s out of breath and looks like he’s in pain. “Hey!” You call back, continuing to hang clothes, “What’s going on?” 
You put your hand up to shield the sun as you make eye contact with him. He’s standing there with his hand over his mouth, slumped shoulders, other hand loosely over his crotch - before he starts walking toward you. Feet scraping against the grass as he stalks over. 
“Gonna need yer help w’somethin’.” He shouts, finally getting close enough to speak at a normal volume; to see him without squinting your eyes in the sun. 
He’s flushed, his heart racing. You can tell just by looking at him that whatever he needed help with, you didn’t want to be involved. You assumed it was something like hard labor. Or walking far somewhere. And you were enjoying the mendacity of hanging the laundry on the line. It was serene. "I'm kinda busy, can't someone else help you?"
"Naw, s'gotta be you." He replies quickly, his voice almost dancing up your neck. His moves are deliberate as he positions himself behind you, one hand grazing the skin on your shoulder before pulling it right across your body. Crossed across your chest, he whispers even deeper into your ear, "These're yers, righ'?" He asks gruffly while pulling his arm up and into a light chokehold, elbow crooked around your neck, his whole body pressed into you. Your eyes shoot wide while he holds up a pair of your used panties with an extended arm directly in your line of sight. The light stain clear as day, you're more mortified than confused. His grip gets tighter, "They are, ain't they?" his heavy breaths moving your hair as he speaks into your ear. 
You nod, cautiously, curiously. "Mmhmm" 
As he pulls the panties close to your face you see the soft purple colors of a flower - and then you smell it. On top of your own scent there is a light delicate unmistakeable floral smell. Daryl’s holding the flower inside the panties, shoving them both forcefully in your face. “Don’ be shy, com’awn.” He grunts, without taking his arm from your neck he removes the flower to put the panties back up to his own face. He maneuvers you slightly in his grip and shoves the flower back into your nose. Both of you taking deep breaths in. You don’t have time to wonder what the hell is going on before it hits you. Daryl’s inside his head screaming at himself, but he can’t stop. He doesn’t know he wouldn’t have to use some flower to get with you. Or that you’d probably have done this willingly. 
You don’t have time to think about it. You don’t care. 
You’re overtaken. Set to zero. This insatiable need; you look over at him, gnawing at the light stain right in the center, and it fills you with desire. He tears himself away to see if it had worked yet. Your dilated pupils in the midday sun were an instant give-away. He pulls you fifteen feet towards the tall grass and shoves you backwards, you land on your ass and your elbows but even that pressure and shock vibrates through your body like a dull orgasm. 
Your heads swimming, you’re fucking drowning in it. Daryl’s between your legs and pulling your panties off of you as fast as all of this seemingly has happened, his tongue covered in saliva like he’s fucking drooling for it. He needs you, now. To taste that fuckin’ juice right from the tap. He dives into you nose first, parting your lips harshly for his rough tongue, he’s not trying to please you. He’s trying to eat you alive. He’s never been hungrier. 
There’s a thought prickling in your subconscious; you know the flower is what did this to both of you. Looking down your body, his tongue on your cunt is starting to become way too sensitive, you realize your pussy is swelling. Engorged, puffy, and honestly adorable. Daryl seems to like it, licking along the glossy wet skin more slowly. Taking your swollen lips in his mouth and swirling his tongue all around them. The sensation vibrating inside of you only reminding you of how hollow you feel. “Daryl-!” You choke out, he grunts into you in response. 
“Put that fat cock down my throat already.” Your eyes go wide at your own words, you can’t imagine ever saying that; and yet it slips right out of your mouth like you’d never been more confident in your whole life. It is what you wanted. But…damn. It was like every dirty thing your subconscious ever wanted was pushing it’s way through and to the surface. It’s on your skin, it’s in your thoughts, it’s bursting out of your fuckin’ soul. 
When Daryl hears your words it sparks something inside him too. Reignites a desire long lost to actual experience. Something he’d always wanted to try but never could. He was going to fuck your face until you threw up all over his cock. He smiles, kissing up your leg, “Ya wanna choke on it, huh?” 
Your eyes roll back as you feel him move from between your legs, shuffling through the tall grass to kneel beside you. Daryl gazes down at your body, your skin sunkissed and flushing and perfect, everything seemed brighter. Like you were fuckin sparklin’ in the sunshine. He’s not expecting his cock to be just as swollen as your pussy was, but jesus christ. It almost makes him lose his balance, he’s never seen himself look so big. It turns him on that much more. He can’t take it, your mouth just inches away and drooling for it. 
Your cheeks immediately burn at the entrance of his engorged member. Spit rocketing out the sides of your mouth around him as your breath quickens. He pushes himself deeper into you. poking at the back of your throat and you gag. He doesn’t care, you don’t care. He drives himself in and out of your mouth with no abandon, like he’d never been able to do before. Always too scared, too ashamed, too embarrassed. Never able to take the back of the girls head and just force her down on him. Exactly everything he’s doing to you now. And you love it. Your eyes sting with tears, and you’re gagging and spitting up thick strings of saliva and mucus, and you can hardly breathe. Daryl’s looking down at you, thinking to himself that he’s never seen someone look more fuckin’ beautiful. “Takin’ ma cock like such a good slut, hm?” 
You look up at him, mouth stuffed full. As he speaks your eyes flutter closed, nothing's ever sounded hotter. It seeps into you and shakes your core. Daryl pulls his hips back, hands in your hair and pumps long purposeful strokes into the back of your throat while he continues praising you, “So. Fuckin’. Good. Fer me.” Each grunt another rough assault on your mouth.
Your jaw was starting to seize up, your cheeks completely abused. Your tears turning to real ones, whines at the back of your throat. Snot bubbling out of your nose as you try to breathe. 
Daryl doesn’t notice but he stops anyway, pulling himself out of your mouth, his cock bouncing proudly as he makes his way between your legs again. 
He’d looked down and over you, taken one look at that puffy pussy, jiggling in the sunlight, and the flower took him over. No thoughts left in his head; no more perverse diversions, just the need to empty inside of you. To fill you full. 
You close your eyes and wait as you feel him push through your folds, kissing the head of his cock with your sensitive clit a few times before dipping himself inside of you. His swollen head pushing your walls apart is an agonizingly delicious burn. Slowly inching himself inside, he can’t fucking breathe you’re so fucking tight. 
Every part of you pulsates with extra blood, so sensitive and juicy and perfect. As he starts to pull out, you can feel your pussy being pulled back with it. The size and girth of him creating a suction inside of you, it pulls him back in. Daryl groans deeply at the feeling and begins to reposition himself 
Grabbing your legs and pushing your knees up toward your head, your hips angled directly to the sky as he plunges long deep strokes into you. Your pussy pulling up with his cock every time he pulls out. You can see him pulling and pushing with every thrust, your lips coming to meet his shaft and swallowing him again. 
“Fuckin’ made for ma’ cock, huh?” He takes one hand off the back of your thigh and holds himself at the base, rubbing himself back and forth through your folds harshly. Watching the plump skin jiggle around his cock. He’s never seen anything like it, so full and perfect and so fucking hot. He almost gets lost in it, fucking up and into your tumescent lips, but you want him inside again. You’d never felt so full in your life. 
You buck your hips up into him and he gets the message, burying himself inside of you slowly and to the hilt. He pulls himself out of you again, even slower. Both of you just feeling as every vein and bulge is suctioned tight to your walls as he moves. 
You both seem to drone into this feeling. Him slowly sliding in and out of you, both of you watching as your pussy contracts around him - until you start moving to meet his hips, wanting him even deeper. 
Daryl sits up and repositions you both again, his thick calloused digits moving over your skin so gently in comparison to this whole experience.  Pushing your legs, and repositioning your hips so that you’re face down in front of him. Can’t fuckin’ wait to feel that grip from behind. He knows he’s done for the second you arch your back and push yourself back into him. He’d hardly got the tip in before you were bottoming yourself out ontop of him. As you slowly pull yourself off he watches your asshole puff out, his cock head pushing it out from the inside. Fuck, he can’t even move. Just letting you ride him from underneath, watching your asshole push out and around his cock from inside your fucking body. Holy fuckin’ goddamn shit. 
You milk his cock with your pussy until you can feel him swelling even more. You slow down to give him back control, to let him use you however he wants. Daryl takes one hand on each hip and pushes you flush with the ground. His thumbs spreading you apart so he can watch his cock drive into you as he finishes. He’s doesn’t know it yet but he’s going to think about how good your cunt swallowed him every time he cums for years - it’s the most intense orgasm he’s ever had in his life. 
Pulling your hips back against him with such force his fingernails dig into your skin, your gasping out screams as he fucks into you so deeply you forget how to breathe. You can feel every single twitch of his cock as it pulsates his load inside of you.
But you were still aching. He slumps over ontop of you, his sweat kissed forehead dropping to your shoulder, as if reading your mind he asks you sweetly, “What do you need?” 
“Suck on my tits.” You rasp out, not needing even a moment to think about it. Your nipples had been screaming for attention this whole time. He grunts a smile into the skin of your shoulder before flipping you over on your back again. Moving out from between your legs he kneels on the ground beside your sprawled out body. He moves his hand swiftly over the top of your dress and yanks it down, your nipples just as puffy and swollen as your pussy. Even though the effects of the flower are wearing off Daryl can’t help but salivate again at the sight. He dips his head down to your chest, licking into your nipple, pushing it around inside his mouth. You lose it. The tight tension in your belly unraveling and twisting itself into every part of you. Your hand shoots down between your legs to play with your clit but Daryl pulls it away and replaces it with his own. 
His warm rough fingers circle your sensitive bundle of nerves so gently, you’re dissolving against his touch. Climbing inside and up the steep hill to the top of your orgasm. His lips still tightly sucking on your breast, one hand between your legs, and the other pulling on your other nipple harshly. Your body feels so ruined, so pulled and prodded apart, destroyed against the force of the flower through the arms of a man. It cascades through your cunt like you’re expecting, but you’ve never felt an orgasm that tore through the nerves in your nipples as well. Like every place he’s attached to you explodes all at once. Screaming into the open air while it rips through your body. Pussy to fingertips to toes and back again, a shaking mess underneath of him. 
Daryl didn’t have time to feel the post-nut shame, not with you to take care of. But you feel it. The prickly grass on your skin like small reminders of the dirty things you’d said, you’d done with him. The way he’d seen your body, the way it reacted to him. 
His voice cuts through, as he’s putting himself away and back into his pants, “Shit, sorry I made ya do all that. It’s the damn flower…” he doesn’t even know how to explain, how to begin to apologize for what he’d just done to you. How he’d violated you. 
“No,” you scramble, blushing, “I liked it. I mean-“ you cough, standing up and dusting yourself off, “I know the flower made me really like it. But, I would have… liked it anyway.” 
Daryl observes you getting awkward and stumbling over your words, it makes him feel less like a super fucking predator. He takes a few big strides to stand close to you again, leaning down and kissing your forehead. He touches his thumb to your lips, “Cuz yer fuckin’ made fer me.” He means it. Your scent, the way you fit around him, the way you took his cock so perfectly. Fuckin’ made for him. 
“Don’chya got somethin’ yer s’possed ta be doin’, girlie?” He tugs on some of your hair before slapping your ass and making his way back to the tents. Leaving you to gather yourself and finishing hanging clothes. Going back to tell everyone the bad news that he didn’t hunt anything today. ‘Cept a pretty girl and her womb.
He left that part out. And no one believed him about the flower when he tried to warn them it was in the woods close by. Just an old Appalachian wives tale. Sure. 
a/n: had this idea swimming for a few days, had a few parts written. Blasted it out in a few hours and I didn’t really proofread it but I feel like this is NO PLOT JUST VIBES.
537 notes · View notes
nexysworld · 3 months
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summary: Brat tamed by your step dad. pairing: Step Dad Toji x Fem!Reader tags: NSFW, Smut, Stepcest, Daddy Kink, Age Gap, Pussy Slapping, Spanking, Mean!Toji, Degradation Kink, Unprotected Sex, Manhandling, Dub-con, fem receiving oral, Reader is 18+, MDNI wc: 2.4k
Read on AO3 || Ask Box || Masterlists a/n: this is my first time writing for JJK and Toji, but god am I down BAD for this man. I wanna practice and write more because....yeah. 😏 Title based on the song. Also special thanks to @kaitkatme for beta-reading this for me.
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“Fuck off Megumi, you’re always breathing down my neck!” You yelled, chucking the pillow across the room at your step brother. “Seriously, get out!”
“I’m only doing what I’m supposed to as your big brother!” He yelled back, easily dodging the weaponized cushion. “Dudes like that are only looking for one thing. They’re dangerous.” “Really? You sure? I would say you’d know, but I don’t think you’re getting any either.” You replied, rolling your eyes. 
“Whatever, give me the phone.” His hand was stuck out expectantly.  “No way! I’m an adult, I can go out with whoever I want.” 
The two of you tussle back and forth around the room, grappling over the device in your hand. Luckily for you, his back was to your bedroom door, giving you the chance with one good shove to send him staggering backwards into the hallway, sticking your tongue out at him for good measure. The door slammed shut with a loud thud, and you clicked the lock to make sure he couldn’t get back in so easily. 
You flopped back down onto the plush bed, intending to return to what you were doing when noise caught your attention. Loud stomping, followed by some muffled arguing – you recognized one of the voices as your step dad, he must’ve been woken up by the argument. 
As the voices got closer you could make out the tail end of the conversation.  “Why don’t you just buckle up and be a father for once.” “Will you stop naggin’ me, she ain’t even my kid.” “She calls you dad.” “So do you, fuckin’ brat. And you don’t listen to me either.”  “You really want her skulking around with one of those mercs? Bet that’ll look real good on you, old man. Your rivals joking about going through rounds with your slutty daughter.” 
“Tch, fine. But only because I’m sick of your fuckin’ nagging kid. We both know she isn’t goin’ to listen t’me.” His footsteps were heavy as they closed in on your room. The front door of the house slammed close downstairs, Megumi having retreated. There was a brief silence outside your door as he pondered what to say before his heavy fist landed on the door a few times. “Open up.”
“Don’t think I will.” You added, not feeling like being lectured again, and especially not by the deadbeat who fucks your mom. Or did fuck your mom, no one really knew where mom was these days. 
There was a huff of frustration as he banged on the door again. “I ain’t askin’ twice.”
“Then don’t.” You lazily went back to scrolling on your phone. 
“You fuckin’ brats are really startin’ to piss me off today.” A loud boom rattled the walls, nearly giving you a heart attack. Your bedroom door had been kicked right off the hinges, the top half of the door tangling by what was left of a single screw, the bottom half launched into the wall across the room. 
You’d seen Toji go at it with Megumi before, tossing all sorts of things at him with his absurd inhuman strength, but you’d never been the target of that anger before. Your mouth opened in shock, ready to say something, but words caught in your throat as he marched towards you.
“First I’m woken up because the two of you can’t keep yer traps shut. Then I get an earful about you running off with some merc kid – thought I raised you better than that.” “You didn’t raise me at all!” Toji had been around as long as you could remember, probably the closest thing you’d ever have to a real dad. Except he only really acted like a father when he was trying to get in your moms pants – or when you made cute bait for a potential bounty he was trying to collect on.  “Shut it.” He said, towering over you. “Screw you!” You spat indignantly.  “I ain’t dealin’ with any more shit today.” It always impressed you how fast he was, for such a large buff guy. Even still, it shocked you how quickly he managed to flip your positions, him sitting on the bed, you bent over his lap. The only noise you could get out was a yelp as his hand collided with your clothed butt cheek, the red hot warmth of pain radiating outwards.  “What happened to that filthy mouth?” He asked mockingly, this time tugging your pajama pants down to expose the plush mounds of your ass. “Come on princess, you wanna talk like a big bad adult, then talk.” He brought his hand down again, this one knocking the wind out of you, making your legs kick behind you tangled in your pajama pants – fat hot tears forming in your waterline. “No? Nothing?” He asked again, as he continued his onslaught, large hand imprinting its shape on you. “That’s what I thought. Shoulda knocked some manners into both you brats forever ago.” 
He shoved you off of him, making you tumble head first onto the floor. Your face was red with anger, cheeks puffed out, righting yourself just enough to look up at him, still tangled in your own pants. He looked down at you amused, scanning your form. He grabbed your face with his hand, squishing your cheeks together, forcing you into a kissy face. “Now that’sa look.” He mused. “Acting like you’re ready to go run around with boys, but can’t even stop snottin’ and cryin’ like a kid after getting spanked by your Daddy.” You wanted to say something back, insult him, tell him to shut up. But you couldn’t, ass sore, mouth still pushed out between his fingers. Instead, you glared him down as best you could.
“What was your plan anyway? Hope he’d take you somewhere fancy, call you pretty names while he licked that little cunt? Or were you hopin’ he’d be mean, put you in your place.” He chuckled, leaning forward so your faces were close together again. “Maybe Megumi was right – ‘m gonna have to listen to stories from half the guild about my slutty little girl, aren’t I?”  “N-no!” You managed to squeak out at the accusation, it fell on deaf ears as he continued rambling his own thoughts. “Only thing I can’t understand is why you’d pick some loser I work with. When ‘m sure there’s plenty of punks crawling around this city, ready to get their dicks wet.” His eyes narrowed, a smug ear to ear grin taking over his features. “Oh, I get it now, you want someone just like your Daddy, don’t you?”  Heat pooled between your legs at his words, cheeks on fire with embarrassment more than anger now. You squeezed your thighs together, hoping he didn’t notice. He let go of your face finally, red finger marks lingering on your skin. Despite having the chance to speak, you were stunned into silence. 
He noticed.
Of course he noticed. 
Toji yanked you up by your arm, roughly pulling you into his lap, pressed against his chest with your head over his shoulder. His large, rough fingers trailed down the semi-circle of your ass cheek to dip lower from behind, gently brushing against your slicked folds.  “Looks like I’m right on the mark.” “N-nuh uh!” You denied, exasperated.
“Dumb little brat, runnin’ around looking for trouble when all you need is your Daddy, right here at home.” He played with you a little, stuffing his index finger into your wet heat, his thumb rubbing against your clit in even circular motions. You whined, squirming your legs at the sensation, feeling your walls clamp around the digit. What remained of your dignity was fleeting, as you felt his cock press against your leg through his pants. “Looks like she’s been cryin’ for attention – no wonder you’ve been such a bitch lately. Shoulda known it woulda been easier to just fuck the ‘tude out of you.” 
He pulled his hand out of you so he could toss you unceremoniously onto the bed, ripping your panties and pajama pants off the rest of the way. By the time he yanked your shirt up, your hands were covering your face in embarrassment.  “Nah, none of that shy shit.” He chided, easily gathering both your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. “Look at me, princess.” He used his free hand to force you to meet his gaze again. “You wanted this, remember? So you’re gonna be a good girl and watch while Daddy makes you feel good, understand?” You scrunched up your face in a glare again, still not wanting to give him the satisfaction of absolute obedience. The hand holding your face collided with your cheek in a sharp slap, making your tits bounce a little as you jerked with the motion. “You wanna keep that brat shit up and I’ll just fuck you raw instead, how about that?”  “W-wait no!” You exclaimed.  “S’what I thought.” Your step dad let go of your wrists so he could lift your lower half up, tossing one leg over his shoulder, tongue messily sliding up your slit before lapping at the bead of nerves. Like most things with Toji, he was quick, flicking his tongue side to side before circling it around your clit.  His hands dug into your hips with a bruising grip, you looked up catching the top of his head and eyes between your legs. Eyes squeezing shut in short-lived pleasure. “G-guah!” You made a sound, a mix between a moan and a yelp as you felt a lightly stinging slap to your pussy, eyes shooting back open.  “What did I say?” “T-to watch.” Another slap against your pussy made you squeal. “Then why were your eyes closed, hmm?” “‘M sorry!” Another one, this time angled just right that you managed to feel it against your clit too. “Wh-why?” “You’re sorry, what?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy.” You replied. “Good girl.” Praise from him was rare, and while it was dripping with sarcasm, you couldn’t help the way it made your chest flutter. He resumed his meal between your legs, messily slurping you into his mouth. Your body felt like it was burning up, pleasuring pulsing between your legs each time he applied pressure with his wet muscle to your clit. 
Your back arched in pleasure, legs kicking at his back as you came, hard. “Oh god.” You whined, not able to keep your eyes open this time as waves of pleasure rolled over you, through your stiffened muscles. Luckily, he didn’t seem to care this time, dropping your lower half down so he could wipe your slick from his chin with the back of his hand. 
Your eyes, half lidded, watched as he reached down, pulling himself free of his gray pants. You let out an audible surprised sound as you watched him stroke himself a few times. It was thick from tip to base, uncut with pearly beads of precum that dribbled onto your thigh with each stroke. He ran his thumb over the tip, hissing at the sensation before rubbing it along your bottom lip, letting you taste him. Greedily you sucked the digit into your mouth, grinding your hips up when you tasted the slightly bitter liquid.
“Shit. You’re fuckin’ cute, I’ll give you that.” He said, pulling his hand back to line himself up with your entrance. He pushed into you, grunting as your tight walls clenched around him. “Tight as hell too. Relax.” He groaned, sinking inch by inch into you until the tip of his cock pressed snuggly against your cervix. It was overwhelming how full you felt, like you’d be split in half if he were any bigger. 
Not one for patience he leaned forward, nearly folding you in half, as he slid out to the tip before slamming back in, watching as you writhed beneath him, gripping the sheets. Your pupils were blown, you could feel his breath against your face again with how close he was in this position.  “Look at you givin’ me those lovey dovey eyes. Want a kiss too?” He asked. “Please?” You nodded, letting go of the bedding to wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him. He obliged the request, pressing his lips to yours – rough and slightly chapped. He gave a few shallow thrusts while tangling your tongues together, pulling away just enough to give him a better angle to fuck into you harder.  “S’too much.” You croaked as he set a steady pace, brutally pumping himself inside of you. “S’too much.” You repeated, eyes scrunching shut, overstimulated between the stretch and speed of his movements. “S’okay, you can take it.” He replied, between movements.  You clung to him tightly, a fresh set of tears brimming at your eyes, toes curling with pleasure. “‘D-daddy.” You sobbed out, clawing at his back. Each time he sunk back into you, he hit a special spot, one so deep you’d never reach it on your own. It made stars sparkle on the back of your eyelids. 
“That’s m’girl, let it all out. Gonna fill this bratty little hole up, make sure she remembers who’s in charge, yeah? Gonna be a good girl from now on?” “Mhmm.” You replied, so close to your second orgasm. “Never be bad…nnng…again….” Your muscles tensed, the pressure exploding again as you cried out, second orgasm exhausting the last of your energy. Your velvety walls clamping down were enough to bring him to completion too, his cock twitching as hot cum spurted out, drooling into your spent hole. 
Eyelids heavy with exhaustion, you barely registered when Toji pulled out, or when he’d laid down next to you tucking you into his side. Your body naturally curled into his warmth, head sinking into the pillow as sleep pulled you under. 
It wasn’t until you heard the telltale sounds of arguing again did you even bother to crack one eye open. Megumi stood in the broken doorway, looking like steam was coming out of his ears. “What?” Toji asked lazily. “You didn’t want her goin’ with that guy, now she’s not. Problem solved.”  “Problem not solved –” He began, before you chucked a pillow at him again.  “Go away, Megumi.” You groaned, burying your face back into your step dad’s chest to resume your nap, too tired to feel any sense of shame or embarrassment in the moment. 
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ejundo · 4 months
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stoner | plug 𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣 𝙟𝙖𝙚𝙜𝙚𝙧 𝙭 nerdy | stressed bottom 𝙢 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 ✰. : @ejundo wc : 3.4k words.
★warnings:
drug use . feminization . seduction . against a wall . literally everywhere but a bed ? . . . opposites attract . begging . deepthroating? charac receiving | i still hate warning | stuff till this day. dub con maybe? yer jus stoned asf and fucking eren. cheating sorta . caught . use of you/your — amab anatomy
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you weren't one to smoke weed as much. . . Every once in awhile you had smoked and used the container that was left on the corner of your desk, but it wasn't as consistent as you had only smoked pot whenever you were desperate enough.. it had helped with your stress— and you not using your container of wax.. meant you had a lot.
that wasn't until now. . . looking at the empty container. a groan left your lips as you quickly texted your friend— who also. didn't have any wax. she had instead given you the information to her plug located in the same dormitory as you, and with a sigh you picked yourself up and headed to the exit of your dorm.
you fist curled up into a ball as you knocked gently onto the door, waiting for an answer.
and a man with brown hair tied up into a manbun stared menacingly down at you. Blinking and jumping in surprise at the sudden action, even if it was suspected..  ー you were told to be a jumpy person.
'what?' his deep voice grumbling. with a blink you opened and closed your mouth like a fish. . . he was extremely menacing even without trying. taking a deep breath in you managed to at least mutter some words.
". . . ehm. . . do you have any wax ? or just ー any weed in general. . i have the money. " the sentence was barely coherent, barely over a whisper. it was a surprise that eren even managed to hear you.
eren's gaze shifted back to you, his eyebrows raising in mild surprise. He leaned against the doorframe, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "well, well, well, isn't that a surprise." He raised his eyebrows, his voice low. "someone as little as you, smoking weed. nothing i woulda expected" his eyes traveled up and down your figure, observing the way you looked.
"You're lucky I've got some left," he said, his voice filled with a teasing undertone. "tell me, why do you need it? tryna relax, or is there something else that's got you all wound up hm??" He raised an eyebrow, boredom in his eyes. "this isn't the first time i've ever smoked weed. . or justー smoked pot in general . . !" with a soft and gentle voice you seemed to get your point across.
staring at you with a look of amusement eren eyed you curious. 'whatever you say lil bro.' eren shrugged before opening his door wide enough for you to slip into. slipping under his raised arm , you observed the new area. it had reeked of weed and drugs and . . it was. . clear that he was previously trying to hotbox the area.
compared to your clean, and more. . . organized dorm. tapestries and dark curtains covered the window from allowing any natural light to enter the adobe. the only light were the led lights that emitted a red color. . . some having a white color to give a more clear vision other then just. . red.
'you have a nice place. eren.' looking down at you, he nodded. clearly not one to talk. letting out a sigh, you stood awkwardly as you awaited for eren to grab what you needed, preparing the money in hand. 'its 25 for 5 grams.' he rolled the small container in his hands. . his. nice , veiny large hands. maybe . . just one paper cut?ー okay that's enough. snapping out of your thoughts. you looked up at him and panickedm he stared at you with a cold and blank expression. 'sorry. . here.' you mumbled, handing him the dollars in exchange for the container.
bowing your head, as a thanks a random voice was heard from your right. averting your gaze over to the voice, it was a lady . . with long jet black hair. ー and in just a tank top and undergarments. quickly turning your gaze away you pursed your lips together in a thin line. as it was pretty random.. for some chick to show up half naked.
'eren. . mmm who is that?' eren also seemed to turn his gaze over. 'him? he's another customer doll.' doll.. it came out of his mouth so smooth. you couldn't help it but cough awkwardly. 'ahm. . . is it okay if i have your socials? incase. . i need more?' saying in a quiet voice, he turned his attention back over to you.
'hhh. yeah, lemme jus' grab my phone real quick.' with a low tone, he reached over to a nearby counter and pulled out what you assumed was his phone. the phone screen light emitting onto his face, showing his features more. . better. it seemed as if time had slowed down . . his gaze fixated on the screen as he opened up a random app.
reading the username as he showed it to you, you nodded your head and input the name into the search bar. quickly pressing the follow button. 'thank you! ♡' you said in a cheerful voice. despite it not being intentional. 'ay , nerdy boy. . c'mere ' as you were about to take you leave, the feminine voice called out. '. .hmm? uh- yes?' you tilted your head, her gaze observing you tiredly, she then raised an eyebrow with a smile as if she had remembered who you were ' yer that nerdy boy that armin and mikasa hang out with yah?' with a nod in your head. she slammed her fist into her open one, "hah! i knew it, no wonder you looked so familiar. . nice ta meet you bro, im eren's girlfriend."
so. . you were gawking over a taken man? shame shame shame ! ! who would know though ? . exactly. you made an o shape with your mouth ' i see . . it's nice to meet you! ehm, mikasa was actually the one who had recommended me to eren,,'
well , at least you two got along correct ? uh. erens girlfriend and you. eren, on the other hand just stood there. watching between you two as you guys acted as if he wasn't there. 'can you get out?' he said at random. blinking rapidly you realized you were overstaying your welcome. . with a shocked expression you bowed multiple of times 'sorry ー ! ! ' quickly rushing out of the apartment in a hurry..
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it didn't take long for eren's girlfriend to quickly grow fond of you, she immediately took a liking to you. . and you assumed it was just so you could help her with her finals . . it was no surprise that by the end of your finals week. that the container that her dear ol' boyfriend gave you. . was empty. even despite it being new!
it was the amount of stress she had put on you . whether it would be - begging you to help her cheat on the exams. but you denied every time, and helped her tutor. that wasn't enough for her though as she would literally try flirting with you. it seemed as if she didn't get that you were not straight . .
'y/n ! ! ~ ehhmm . . professor wasn't clear on the instructions for this project . . can you perhaps tell me? what it was? . . or better yet gimme tha answers hmm?' she stuck out her chest to show off more skin then needed. . with a look of sheer disgust you masked it with a smile.
mentally groaning as you practically forced yourself to not bash this textbook into her face. 'only if you manage to let eren give me a 50 percent discount. i helped you for . . the past 3 weeks.' she grinned from ear to ear as you said that. practically launching herself at you.
you seriously tried to contain yourself from jumping out the window right then and there. . .
'here let me lend you my computer- and you can do the assignment m'kay?' she caressed your neck, and with a raising hand you slapped her hand away.
'i don't like how you caress me, and. . . shove your tits in my face while you have a boyfriend.' a hint of disgust laced behind your voice, a blank expression displayed in an attempt to at least give her a hint. and she ignored it. how surprising. . not
'look darling, he wouldn't know. . i mean- you aren't bad looking. and your voice. is so attractive. . i just want to kiss - y-' you quickly moved out of her grasp by standing up. her face almost landing on the seat before she quickly caught herself.
she whined before supporting herself on her arms. 'hmph ! ! i'll make you fall in love with me one day . . ' she grumbled with a . . disgusting frown. her eyebrows furrowed while she crossed her arms.
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doing as you said, your fingers typed lightly against the keyboard of her macbook. eyes glued to the screen, while you wore glasses to protect your eyes from the horrifying blue light. she really owed you big time.. a sigh emitted from your lips. fingers grazing across the mouse pad as you click send to the designated professor.
looking as if you had crawled out of a grave, a still surprisingly gentle knock made its way onto eren's door once more. waiting for a good . . five minutes the tall man had came into your view looking down upon you as you held the silver macbook in your hands. ' your girlfriend . . needs her macbook back.' he raised an eyebrow, ' shes not my girlfriend anymore.'
' . . . what.' you furrowed your eyebrows and groaned angrily. barging into the room uninvited, 'she told me she would give me a discount if i did her entire work. . and i did so. and now i am here sad and lonely with a macbook, and no more wax!' eren only looked down at you. his usual blank stoic face reading you as you ranted on and on.
'hell! she even made me suffer by shoving her tits in my FACE!? not literally . . but YOU KNOW ! ' raising an eyebrow. he clicked his tongue purposely avoiding the her trying to kiss and rub all up on you . . just to avoid any. pressure on the other.
your eyebags seemed more evident and noticeable as you ranted. but eren didn't seem to mind . . you just seemed more. attractive that way. the nerdy persona dropped as you complained, and especially the way your cute face scrunched up . . he just wondered how would it look like if he just fucked that look off your face. shaking his head he let out a sigh. his hand plopped right onto your head, making you let out a small grunt.
' was joking dude, and with that information - it seems like she might not be my girlfriend anymore' oh were you truly angry, not because of eren breaking up with her. you were always angry, every time.
with a groan, your eyes drooped, 'can i just have my gram. . i'll pay you.' eren looked you up and down. 'how about i roll you up a joint ah .. you ever tried that before? it helps a lot more then. . wax.' you didn't care at this point. dragging yourself to the nearest couch and plopping down on it.
eren had locked the door and shut the curtains, that were open and disappeared into what you assumed was his room. the led lights shining a bright vibrant red that covered the entire room. even the led lights that would have at least gave some natural white lighting was turned red. small footsteps heard as eren came back from the room. a roll evident and seen in his hand. ' sets the mood.'
you raised an eyebrow in confusion before he pointed to the l.e.d's a small oooh coming from you along with a nod. blinking slowly, you opened you mouth. and suddenly the joint was placed between your lips. ' . . smoke it like you usually would. nothing different.'
and doing as said, your body grew lighter after you exhaled the smoke into the sky. coughing heavily you held your chest, growing teary eyed before rubbing them away. ' shit ! . . ' a heavy low laugh coming from the taller man.
he made his way next to you sitting down next to you. ' wanna watch some tv?' he asked, and arm resting on the hedge of the cough behind you. ' uh yeah sure? do you have . . netflix? im tryna finish this one show. he would occasionally pass you the joint.
that helped you . . forget about her. and forget about every single thing that pissed you off. after that . . . you felt more relaxed . . and time flew by just . like . that .
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it was hot
scorching
flaming !
blistering even ! !
and you weren't even outside . . it was probably the man who was sitting way to close to you his body heat emitting onto you. his gaze on your smaller form, when did he even get that close? . whatever . . with the roll in his hand. bringing it to ur lips. 'cmon. . take one more hit . '
did he mean to make it sound that? hot . . or seductive. you didn't know . . all u knew is that it made you tingle. wrapping your lips gently around the wrap, you gently sucked in inhaling the smoke. he pulled it away and he was. . . much more closer. exhaling it into his face, he didn't even seem bothered. a look of lust in his eyes as he eyed you like a piece of meat.
'y'know. . i didn't think a boy like you would make me feel a certain way. but here i am. . a desire to kiss you silly. ' you smiled before quickly pecking his surprisingly soft lips. 'jus' like that. . . ? ' a grin on his face. ' no, like this. ' and quickly he pulled your lips in for an enchanting kiss.
pulling away with half lidded eyes, you stared up at eren. . . maybe it was the led lights that made him look more attractive, or perhaps it was the desire and need for him. small strands stuck to his forehead while his hand slithered behind you, captivating you. enchanting you.
'ever gave head before doll?' eren whispered in your ear, his warm breath brushing against your ear. shaking your head. you sat up and looked at him. ' mm-mm. . ' he leaned back spreading his legs and letting his arms resting on top of the couch. ' first time for everything hm?' the bulge in his sweats seemed more noticeable. and the closer you looked it was extremely noticeable that he wasn't wearing any underwear.
with hesitated movements, your hand traced the bulge slowly rubbing on it. he was big and that was an understatement. he let out a low groan a chuckle following behind it. ' don't be scared . . . c'mon doll. ' he grinned, his large hand cupping your hands, slowly moving your hand with his slipping past the band of his sweats . . his hand wrapped around yours as you held his cock. the warm feeling new to your cold hands .
a small hum emitting from him as you stroked him, ‘fuck . .’ seeming to get the hang of it, his hand slowly slipped out of his own pants. his head thrown back as he enjoyed the pleasure. letting go you decided it was time to try something new . for you at least! his head slowly snapped back to you, a smirk displayed on his face as you got onto your knees. it had hurt staying there for a while but the blanket pulled along covered the hardwood floors.
discarding his pants you were now face to face with the leaking member that dripped pre cum. his hand travelled to your head rubbing it slowly ‘take your time doll.’ he mumbled with a low and seductive voice.
with a soft sigh, your tongue grazing along the head of his cock. lips closing in in them as you struggled to suck on it, the taste — salty yet savory. you savored the flavor, as it leaked onto your tongue.
with a pop your lips left the tip and your tongue slowly trailed down the member a saliva trail following behind. erens hand lifted your head in prder for the two of you to make eye contact. your lips stopped at a prominent vein, sucking on it as eren eyed your expression. a low chuckle coming from the other. ‘mmm. .’ a grin on his face while his hand caressed your scalp.
.
-
.
you and eren were now stripped of clothing. your face rested against the pillows of the couch, moans and whines leaving your lips as erens tongue lapped at your hole, everything was a blur your mind fuzzy and blank as you left his long tongue insert you. curling your toes your grip on the couch intensified.
his grasp on your ass kneaded your ass as he pulled away, observing the clean and wet hole. a grin on his face. 'think you're ready f'me doll . . .' he sat up, reaching downwards as he positioned himself between your open legs. gently pushing down he slowly inserted his cock inside. 'please . . be gentle! . . f-first time. .' you mumbled out, your head sideways against the pillow while your teary eyes stared at the brown haired man. he patted your cheek gently for reassurance. ' im not that cruel baby . ' he whispered, as he fully settled inside of you.
he waited until you were more used to his size. when you felt less tense is when he started moving at a slow pace. his hand tracing over your hot skin, in contrast to his cold hand. holding your waist as one hand traveled down slowly gripping one of your ass cheeks kneading it and spreading it as he watched him slipping in and out of you.
his member stretching you out, your whines , moans , and whines were music to his ears. ‘fnhhg!. . ist’mucherrhe!’ incoherent words slipping from you as he slowly started going at a faster pace. ‘ i know doll . be good f’me and take it well yeah? ‘ his hand snaking around your waist as he leaned foward, one hand gripping your leaking cock and the other toying and flicking your hardened nipple. slipping out of you, he slammed right back into you a moan ripping out of you repeating the process as your mind went blank.
moving at a animalistic pace, all that was heard was the consistent sound of skin slapping together and your bated and loud whimpers and moans. eren groans and moans barely audible due to yours . .
what surprised you most is at how many rounds the two of you had done. he would pin you against the wall while his cock slammed into you, your back arched and your ass stuck out. cum splattered on the wall and leaking out your ass as he fucked you over the coffee table, your legs held up to your head while he fucked into you. cum splattered in your stomach and a splash on the coffee table. his seed seeping out of you while he fucked you shamelessly on the ground. your cock rubbing on the ground while drool spilled out of your mouth and your tears stained your own cheeks.
your cum leaking onto the glistening floor, as his leaked out of your hole onto the ground. that was when the two of you reached your limit. heavy breathing could be heard from the two of you as he held you in his arms. your hole holding onto— nothing as it leaked heavily onto the ground.
eren wrapped his arms around you, but stopped as he heard the front door slam open. ‘eren baby!— waht the!…’ the familiar and aggravating voice burst through the doors. her figure still as she looked at the sight of the two of you naked, eren holding you in his arms. ‘. . . im breaking up with you?’ he said bluntly. her bag dropping to the ground as she blinked rapidly.
woops?
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finally . . finished . . im dead ! ! save me ! 𖦹 ´ ᯅ ` 𖦹
but i kinda got lazy at the end . . wahwah the smut part kept confusing me and i was trying to make eren fuck yew guys silly and then — kabloom no!!!! my brain farted and decided to be lazy and rush it . . grr . .
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starry-eyedblog · 4 months
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HI LAURY (≧ω≦。) I CAN FINALLY SEND YOU AN ASK AGAIN!!
okay ahem i was thinking about roomates!soap and gaz !! they are like very overly touchy and obsessed with you, literally can't keep their hands off you while you three are on the couch watching a movie. a bit insane and gross sometimes too BUT i love them very much. DO YOU SEE MY VISION HERE!! i don't think i am explaining it well BUT YEAH >:3
ruru!! i'm so happy yer free from jail, vry glad to have you back<3
and omg i'm actually frothing at the MOUTH i see your vision so clearly. why is this so hot?? i actually need them so badly. hope i do the idea justice !! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)
warnings/tags: roommate! soap x roommate! gaz x reader, non con/dub con, groping, pervy/creepy behaviour, slight manipulation/guilt tripping, mentions of panty sniffing
you had moved into a new flat a few weeks ago, managing to snag a pretty big place for a cheap price. when you saw the amount on the post advertising it online, your eyes almost bulged out of your head and you rushed to contact the owners, which turned out to be two handsome men a few years older than you.
what was not to love of the place? close commute to your work, cheap, spacious and two very good looking men living there too. honestly it felt like a setup but you didn't question it, and your application was immediately accepted.
so in no time flat you were moving in, setting up all your own furniture with the help of both your roommates. and after a week of getting comfortable and your roommates keeping a good distance from you while you settled in, they finally asked you to join in with them on their activities that have always been just for the two of them. the first, was film night.
"every friday night, we have film night. snacks, drinks, shitty films. it's our routine, and now you're here, we thought you should be included." gaz had told you on thursday morning, an easy smile on his face as he stood leaning on the kitchen counter, eating toast in just his plaid pyjama trousers hanging low on his waist with everything else on show. it was very difficult to avoid oogling at his chest as you responded. "so-sounds great, i'll uhm pick up some snacks after work tomorrow." you ushered out.
it's now friday night at half nine and the three of you are huddled up under soft blankets on the pretty spacious couch with you squished in the middle of them. there wasn't any need for them to have their bodies so close to you, but you didn't say anything. gaz had his arm resting on the back of the couch, around your head which made you blush slightly, even though it was just for his own comfort.
you're only fifteen minutes into the film, some popcorn in your hand with eyes glued to the tv when you feel the first touch. it's a big, warm hand pressing at your thigh. you jump, head whipping round to soap who smiles innocently at you. his hand grips your thigh and you whine, stumbling out a response.
"soap, wh-what-?" you try to ask but soap shushes you up quickly, "shh hen, tryna watch the film." he points to the tv with his free hand, no longer looking at you. not even a minute later, another hand coming from the other side of you is now squeezing at the inside of your thigh.
your head whips round to face gaz instead, your eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. "why are y-" before you can get another word out, gaz is also shushing you and instead facing the tv - just like soap.
you try not to think about it too much, as they both seem to be enamoured with the film playing in front of them and uncaring of the fact both of their hands are gripping at your thighs that borderlines on just a wee bit too tight.
as the film continues, you start to forget about the weight of their hands on your thighs but that doesn't last long until both hands are moving again, one going to your front while the other slides back to rest on your arse.
your cheeks instantly flare pink as you sputter out words, trying to ask what they are doing. "ain't doing anythin', you're jus' too sensitive love. keep watchin' the film alright? me and johnny really want you to take movie night serious, can you do that for us?" gaz asks with a pout, guilt tripping you with his adorable puppy face that will soon become a recurring issue for you.
you find your head nodding slowly, eyes turning back to the tv once again as their hands start to fondle you. soap's hand teases at your cunt through your joggers, cupping it every now and then while gaz grabs and almost kneads at the soft skin of your arse, fingers slipping the joggers down enough that he can touch warm flesh.
it doesn't take long for you to be a whimpering mess on the couch, trapped between the two burly men who give you no respite, rough overworked hands fondling you so meanly and roughly, without care for your sensitive body.
"gu-guys the film, i thought you wan-hghh wanted to watch it." you splutter, head rolling back onto the shoulder of gaz who's on your left. "aye we do, so quit yer yapping quien." soap grumbles, leaving a sloppy wet kiss on your neck, eyes not even looking at the tv.
it doesn't take long for gaz's fingers to work their way down your joggers and push aside your flimsy underwear, a dry thumb pressing against your asshole that has you squirming, hips bucking to get away. gaz's other hand keeps you pinned down firmly with no issue, watching the way your mouth falls open to let out confused sounds of pleasure and pain.
as gaz does this at the back of your body, soap fondles with the front of you, hand slipping down your underwear to press at your clit which makes you moan out-loud, eyes fluttering shut. "dove, please. we haven't seen this film before, been waiting awhile." gaz complains, nibbling at your ear and you feel as if all your nerves have been set on fire. the guilt and pleasure swirls through your turned on body, mind starting to become foggy as they continue their groping.
you bite down on your bottom lip harshly, teeth digging into the skin and causing little tears. tiny droplets of blood stain your bottom lip as you sit there like a doll for them, your fuzzy brain desperately trying to focus on the film but at this point any ideas you had about the plot or characters has left you and replaced with the way your body is being groped at by your two new roommates.
soon soap's fingers are slipping past your folds and caressing your hole that seems to grow wet from the touch, even though it's a natural human body instinct, soap takes it that you're enjoying his and gaz's caressing which just feeds into his gross mindset.
"fuck gaz, should feel how wet they are. fuckin' turns em on being groped." soap moans deeply, one thick finger slipping into your wet hole that immediately clenches down on the intrusion. "that so? we picked the right one tav." gaz smirks at his friend, pulling his hands out of your joggers to then shove his dry thumb into your mouth roughly.
"suck lovie." he stated, watching the way your teary eyes didn't move away once from the tv while your mouth gently sucked on the digit. soon he slipped his thumb out and pressed it against your hole once again, but this time he gently started to edge his spit soaked finger inside which had your body flinching. you had never experimented back there, so this was a very new sensation.
"never had anyone back here, eh?" gaz jokes with a mean chuckle which soap joins while thrusting one finger meanly into your tight cunt that leaks around his hand. another finger is soon added, thumb pressing against your clit. you feel absolutely ashamed, your body enjoying the touch while your mind is conflicted.
before you can think much more about how wrong this is, how your roommates have ganged up on you to touch you without any consent, your stomach tightens and your cunt clenches down on soap's two fingers. your asshole pulses around gaz's thumb as your orgasm washes through you and your eyesight blurs from the intensity.
as you whimper and gasp on the couch, hips bucking and writhing to try get away, both men watch in awe as you cum. the film is long forgotten now, playing quietly in the background as it illuminates the room. once your orgasm finally comes to an end, your body slumps back into the couch, eyes half lidded and body limp while your roommates remove their hands out of you.
soap is the first to taste your sweet nectar, long tongue wrapping around his middle finger and sucking off your juices. he moans and pants like a dog in heat as he tastes you on his tongue, and it isn't long before gaz is whining for his turn. soap reluctantly pulls off and rests his ring finger on gaz's plump lips, watching the younger man slowly open his mouth and welcome his finger inside. his tongue laps up the wetness, hips bucking up from need as he drinks down everything he can just off soap's finger.
after a minute, soap is pushing gaz off with a chuckle. "alright calm yersel gaz." he says, and gaz rolls his eyes. "you're just the same." he grumbles quietly before turning to you, smiling at how out of it you are, still limp against the couch.
thankfully both men pull your underwear back up and clean you up, but not without leaving messy hickeys all over your neck and shoulders to claim you as theirs.
and no one needs to know, certainly not you, that through this week of you settling in - where they kept their distance so you were comfortable, they weren't actually keeping faithful to that promise. they already managed to slip a few dirty pants out of your bedroom to sniff and huff at while jerking the other off at late hours into the night, as well as spying on you when showering.
but this was just the start of their creeping on their new pretty roommate.
@bjornthebearguy
@iciclesses
@mothymunson
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meatonfork · 1 year
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hoiii, can you do a platonic team 141 x reader where s they’re the youngest/smallest one on the team yet they seem to be able to beat everyone on when sparring and everyone’s like wtf…
omg hello! i’ve never had a request, so this is new hehe
i’m not great at writing! i will try my absolute best to make this good. i struggle with adding personality to my characters without over explaining. so let’s see how this goes!
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Bloody Hell
pairing: platonic 141 x gn!reader :)
*readers call sign is grim :)
warnings: none!
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you’ve found that being the smallest and the youngest on the 141 had its cons. but, you’ve also found that it had its pros.
“uncle! i’m tap- i’m tapping! you can STOP-!” soap was writhing and sputtering beneath you.
you and the rest of the team were in the cafeteria, having just eaten lunch, when soap had decided today would be a great day to challenge you in sparring. seeing as none of the guys had seen you in action, they figured this would be easy for him. it was almost comical, seeing their smug smirks and eyes shining in hunger at seeing someone so small to absolutely demolish in combat.
he also wanted to show you, the newbie, your place. your stature was tiny compared to ghost. when stood next to him, you looked like an ant. squash-able and minuscule.
but, you had been chosen for the 141 by laswell herself. who was price to argue? your folder was mostly confidential. there wasn’t much to go on. but one thing price knew for sure was that you’re a force to be reckoned with. just because you were small didn’t mean you weren’t strong, and soap soon found that out.
“i don’t think that’s a good idea, sergeant.” your eyebrow had raised, and your voice was an eery calm. soap almost backed down. almost.
he probably should’ve.
“oh, c’mon. scared i’ll whoop yer ass, grim?” his face donned a cocky smirk, and you couldn’t resist.
poor guy.
with a sigh, you stood from your seat. the guys looked for any sign of hesitation, or nerves from you, but found none.
as the both of you moved to a clearer area, the others followed. gaz was mentally preparing to help you after you got your ass handed to you, and ghost honestly just wanted to see how this played out.
soap quickly got into position, feet spread shoulder length, one slightly in front of the other, and both hands brought up. you stood across from him, and cracked your neck before quickly getting into the same position.
“are you sure you’re ready, soap?” you wanted to make sure this was absolutely something he wanted. there was no going back after, and you wanted him to at least have a little dignity.
he laughed.
he was ready.
price stood to the side, yelling out a go ahead. he, himself, also a little curious to see how this played out.
soap immediately lunged to your right side. sidestepping, you drove an elbow into his back. he lost balance, but quickly regained it and spun towards you. his lip twitched a bit, and his eyes narrowed. maybe this wasn’t going to plan, but he was confident he would win this. he tried to kick your leg out from under you, but he was too cocky and you caught on, jumping up slightly.
soap heavily relied on brute strength, but you were quicker. he threw a punch, only for you to duck and charge at his midsection, throwing him to the mat beneath you.
he thrust his hips up and quickly flipped you, so he was on top and pinning you to the mat.
you smirked, “i’m likin’ the view serg.”
soaps eyes widened, and his grip slightly went slack. not much. but, enough for you to get a hand loose and land a punch to his cheek.
using the momentum of the punch to your advantage, you quickly rolled the opposite direction of him and onto your knees. soap got up quicker than expected, throwing a punch to your side, and next you knew, you were back on the ground. back in the same position you were just in.
a sigh left your lips, but your eyes were glistening in satisfaction seeing a bruise forming on his jaw. a mischievous smile slowly grew on your face. soap’s eyes narrowed once more.
“wha- FUCK” with a swift knee to the groin, soap toppled over. you pounced on top of your sergeant and quickly threw him into a headlock.
“oh fuck!” gaz’s voice rang from somewhere to the side.
soap’s whines and gasps were loud, and the smile only grew on your face. hair falling in your face moving in and out with your heavy breaths.
“uncle! i’m tap- i’m tapping! you can STOP-!” soap was writhing and sputtering beneath you.
you let go of the man below you, and stood. hands on your hips, heavy breath, and a satisfied smile.
johnny lied there a moment, trying to catch is breath. opening his eyes, he sees your hand. you haul him to his feet and pat his back.
“are you okay serg.? didn’t mean to hurt ya too badly.” your voice held amusement, but it was sincere.
“bloody hell, johnny. they got ya good” ghost sauntered over and crossed his arms. you look over to see his eyes scanning you, a flash of approval ran over his eyes. you weren’t quite sure, but you thought you saw a small tug at his mask near his mouth.
sick, he thought you did well.
gaz and price made their way over, small smiles on their faces.
“ah, whatever. lets go again.”
“what? are you sure?”
“yeah, let’s go.”
soap lost every time. he also always had an excuse.
there was something in his eye.
he lost his footing.
he heard a bird overhead and wanted to see it.
you beat him every time, but you also managed to take a few hits yourself.
ghost and gaz continued to stand at the sidelines, but price walked off a bit ago. shaking his head and muttering to himself about ‘soap’s gonna get fucked up’ or something like that.
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a/n: thank you sm for reading! again, i don’t ever write so i hope this satisfied you! i’m working on getting better at characteristic and really getting the boys’ right. criticism is always loved and wanted <3
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sickeninglyshoujo · 2 months
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a/n: finally finished this after being left such an essay about dad!price by @connorsui that made me want to cry with joy that someone liked my silly rambling that much so now have dad!johnny
part 1: simon here
part 2: price here
part 4: gaz here
masterlist here
buy me a ko-fi
warnings: pregnancy
word count: 1.7k
Soap has always told you that he wanted a house full of babies with you and will not take no for an answer
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You rolled your eyes everytime thinking he's exaggerating but he never was.
He tells you so during your romps “Gannae pump you full of babies, mama” With any other man it would ruin the moment but the way soap snarls it out sends heat spiraling through you and having you begging him to cum inside. He’ll wear the condom if you ask him to, but he won’t bring it out on his own volition. He knows you’re the person he wants to build a family with, has known since the first date when you rolled your eyes at all his corny jokes and groaned in mock pain.
Soap will not heed doctor’s advice and tries to palm at you before you’re ready, not even caring when you whine about things not being tight and firm like they used to be
“You’re positively bonnie lass, even more now that I know those stretch marks came from our baby that you carried for me.”
Feral for a man who calls me mama
Soap will absolutely come up behind you and grab at your flesh every time you put the baby down for a nap, “Cannae help myself lass,” he’d pant as he’s rutting against you, a man possessed,  “You’ve been teasing me all day!” Even though you don’t recall doing so
You’d been taking care of the baby all morning and hadn’t paid much mind to your hyper husband as he flitted around doting on you and the little one. Little did you know that’s what he meant. Seeing you be such a good mom and a mom to HIS baby had gotten him rock hard
It was tough for him to get through your pregnancy because each time he looked at your growing belly he got turned on 
“Johnny I’m already pregnant you know, we don’t have to keep trying,” you teased every time his hands began to wander down below your hips.
“Ah cannae help it, mama, you’re glowing!” He mutters trying to nuzzle under your shirt
Asked the doctor explicitly if pregnancy sex would hurt the baby. 
“Johnny!” You hissed
“Need to know if I have to behave myself for nine months lass”
Thankfully the good-humored doctor laughed at his requests. Johnny listened intently as the doctor discussed the pros and cons of both the act and different positions with his chin resting on intertwined fingers. Soap asked question after question about your limitations much to your horror.
Once the appointment was over and you two were safely confined into your flat again, his hands were on you before the door had even closed.
“You heard the doctor's orders, Mama.”
You laughed loudly at that, “I don’t think they’re doctor’s orders as much as yours!”
“Then listen to your sergeant and let him take care of you”
“Yes, sir.” 
Johnny was constantly stumbling over himself to try and help you with chores through the pregnancy. You move to wash a dish and he’s hopping up from the couch to plush the sponge from your hand before you’ve even wet it.
“I’ve got that love,” He constantly says, trying to herd you towards the couch, “Don’ even worry about it.”
You’d still hover each time, ensuring that he completed the chores to your satisfaction.
“Johnny! The yellow rags are for dusting! Not wiping up!” You fussed.
“It doesn’t matter! They all go in the wash the same!”
“It does matter! They’re color-coded so that they stay cleaner and we don’t go through so many!”
“Johnny,” You waddle into the bedroom one morning after getting up to get a cup of tea, “It’s time.”
“Time?” The tired man pulled his head up from where he’d buried it into his pillow, “Lass, is still early, come back to bed.”
“Johnny the baby’s not going to be born in the same bed it was conceived in.”
“Yer not due for weeks yet lass, she won’t be.”
“There’s a puddle in the kitchen that says otherwise.”
“A puddle?”
“Johnny, my water broke.”
He jerks his head up from the pillow, “It’s time?”
“Yes, Johnny, I have the bag, I just need you to get dressed and drive.”
He stumbles out of bed and shoves his legs into yesterday’s jeans from where they lay on the floor, he’s nearly to the door before you hold up a hand, “Shirt, Johnny, you’re going to the hospital. You need to put on a shirt.”
He looks down at his bare chest, “Shirt? Shirt,” He turns on his heel and scoops up yesterday’s shirt too before returning to you.
“Shoe’s, Johnny.”
Johnny grabs a pair of slides from the closet and you finally let him through, happy that he’s finally presentable for your daughter’s birth.
Johnny ends up pacing the room while you rest in the hospital bed, flipping through channels on the wall-mounted television, “Thought you said it was time lass.”
“It is,” you flip past game show, news, game show, soap opera.
“Then where is she? We've been here hours now.”
“They don’t just slide out, the body has to prepare itself to squeeze out a daughter who probably has as big a head as her daddy,” He doesn’t notice your insult, instead rubbing his hands over the stubble he hadn’t gotten to shave.
When Johnny see’s the baby crown, he faints.
Your big strong army man who had been through war and back fainted at the sight of his daughter entering the world and had to be woken up by an attending nurse, “Sir, you’re going to want to wake up, your baby’s coming now.”
He ends up on wobbly feet, deposited by the head of the bed this time where he surely won’t see anything to make him faint.
After the baby’s born he makes you promise that you won’t tell anyone on his team, particularly Ghost.
“I’ll never hear the end of it,” Soap begs, “L.t. would make it known base-wide before the day is out.”
You roll your eyes, “You don’t give Simon enough credit, he’s nothing but a gentleman to me.”
“Ya only say that because he hasn’t made you run drills! He’s a right mean bastard to me!”
Soap brings the baby on base to meet the 141 at your request after moaning that you didn’t want his team to see you when you were wearing mesh panties even if you were wearing pants over them. Soap loudly announced his arrival, depositing the large carrier onto the table in the briefing room.
“Here she is,” he coos at the baby in her carseat, pulling the blanket covering her off the carrier, “The latest addition to the Mactavish clan.”
“She’s so tiny!” Gaz can’t help but note, leaning forward. 
“Didn’ think you actually had the balls to make one of them,” Ghost starts.
“How’s the missus doing?” Price asks, leaning forward to offer his finger to the bundle who takes it and grasps it.
“Sore as all hell and still mad abou’ it,” Soap bemoans, “Keeps telling me about the frozen pads she’s wearing and that it’s my fault!”
“Frozen pads?” Gaz frowns at him, finally taking his eyes off the baby.
“Aye, the lass has cleared out half the freezer so her unmentionables can be kept below thirty two degrees at all times.”
“You’re in a hell of your own making Soap, she’ll be right as rain before long and yelling at you for something else you’ve done.”
“Hope you learned to wrap it for next time, Soap,” Gaz this time.
“The poor bastard came out of the womb as dumb as this and he’ll return the same way, he’ll have another baby before this one’s out of diapers.
After the baby’s born, he takes you and her on a flight to visit the Mactavish clan. He insists on holding the baby through the flight so you could nap. He also falls asleep with the baby in his arms and his head laying on your shoulder.
His sister’s crowd around you before you can even take your shoes off when you enter the house.
The energy in the Mactavish house is the same as Soap’s when he’s first off deployment and wired, full of energy and yelling. You silently send a thanks up to heaven that the baby was already awake and well-rested as there likely would be no keeping this family quiet.
Johnny’s mother fussed over you, smoothing your hair and holding your hand, apologizing already for something her son did.
“Ma!”
“Don’ ‘Ma’ me! You gave me hell growing up, I have to make sure you’re treating her well!”
Baby Mactavish grows to be a whirlwind like her father, constantly getting into cabinets you swore you baby-proofed, leaving piles of tupperware scattered on the kitchen floor.
“Sergeant John Mactavish if you don’t come get your daughter this second!” You yell into the house while you fight against your daughter’s grip of steel on the plastic spatula.
He skids into the kitchen and scoops up the baby, turning her over in the air and using the element of surprise to snatch the utensil from her chubby hands.
“Ah, dinnae be so mean to the bairn lass, she’s jus’ explorin’,” he continues turning her over and over until she’s weak with giggles.
True to his word, Johnny gets you pregnant within a year after you're medically cleared. This time a second and third baby on the way. At once. When you learned of the split embryo at the ultrasound you scowled at Johnny, “Now see what you’ve done, John Mactavish!”
“Ah promised it to you, remember,” He took your hand in his and planted kisses on the back, ignorant of the ultrasound tech pointedly keeping their eyes on the screen, “Toldja we’d have a house-full when we first started dating.”
“I didn’t think you meant two at once!”
Not to mention the dogs that lingered on the stoop. Or the barn cats that hung around the outbuildings. The highland cows that Johnny had begged you for. The donkeys that he rescued from a feedlot. None of them were in the plan. Mactavish, the devil he is, ruins all your plans.
a/n: reblogs/comments are most appreciated but i cherish every like too, someone please talk more about this to me
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waves-against-a-cliff · 3 months
Text
Sharing is Caring PT2
Soap and Gaz sharing you ;) PT 2
You don't need to read part one but if you want more smut....
Content Warnings - DUB-CON!! Anal, threesome, fingering, oral, facial, creampie, anal fingering, aphrodisiac, fmm.
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It's odd. Truly it is odd to you. Somehow, you managed to get two military men, men in the SAS and men who have seen blood and guts, obsessed with you. Somehow they also managed to convince you to put on a blindfold and get into Soaps vehicle. It rolls to a stop and you don't need your sight to be able to tell where you are. Not the road specifically but the place. A lavender field.
Soap keeps you busy in the backseat while Gaz pulls things from the trunk. "Ha- Soap- mmmm god." You moan as he finger fucks you from your brain. You dig your fingers into the car seat as he hums and you can only assume he's watching your slick drip down his wrist as his dexterous fingers bring slamming into a orgasm.
The car door swings open and Gaz chuckles at the sight before him. You hadn't even left the car and you looked utterly debauched. Soap pulls your blindfold down and your sight returns as you blink through the light change. When your vision finally focuses, you groan at the sight before you, squirming as you watch Gaz swirl his tongue around the fingers Soap had just used to wring an orgasm from you.
"Holy shit." You mutter and Gaz locks eyes with you as he removes Soaps fingers from his mouth.
"Come on dove." He coos and grabs your legs to pull you to the edge of the seat, bending down to get a single long lick from your cunt. You throw your head back with a moan. His hot tongue flicks your clit once and he pulls back as you desperately buck your hips for more.
"Look at 'er." Soap practically growls, "Already actin' like a slag." Gaz just hums in response as he pulls you from the car completely, helping you get your balance.
They lead you to a blanket in the middle of the field, the smell of lavender forcing you to relax even further. You settle on the blanket, Gaz and Soap at either side of you. Gaz slowly feeds you fruit, strawberries, grapes, slices of oranges and apples. Soap encouraged you to drink the lemonade he had made. Was it the lavender scent, being between these two men or the constant flow of food and drink that was putting you to sleep?
You don't even notice when Soap stops giving you refills of the lemonade and moves down. You relax into Gaz's warmth and gasp, fingers digging into Gazs shirt when you feel Soap part your lips and lick a strip from your hole to your clit and groan. You attempt to look down but Gaz captures your jaw and brings you into a head spinning kiss. His tongue bullies it's way into your mouth as Soap bullies his tongue into your cunt, thumb rubbing tight circles around your clit.
Your mewls and whines are swallowed down by Gaz until he breaks the kiss, a thin string of salvia connecting the two of you until it breaks. He groans at the sight and presses wet sloppy kisses down your neck, sucking bruises into your neck as you writhe in his grip as Soap sends you crashing into an orgasm. Your hips buck until they are pinned down by Soap as he groans into your pussy as you fill his mouth.
Gaz pulls down your dress's neckline and leans down and puts one of your pebbled nipples into his mouth. He sucks and tugs on it as Soap pushes two of his fingers to your pussy. Your grip tightens on Gazs shirt as your mind focuses and unfocuses.
"God." Soap groans, "Gaz this is yer best idea yet." He murmurs as he pumps his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt.
"Huh?" You weakly groan between moans.
Gaz shushes you but carries on the conversation with Soap, "Simon was the one to recommend it. Dunno how he knew about this aphrodisiac."
That word tries to register in your mind and for a moment it does. "Did... Did you...?"
Soap hums and his blue eyes are filled with greed and lust. Oh. They did. No wonder you felt so warm and pliant, willing to open your legs out in a field filled with lavender meant to keep you on the verge of sleep.
It's blurry, the rest of it. Few things do stick out. You were bouncing on Gazs cock, head thrown back against his shoulder as he squeezed your breasts and pinched your nipples until they were red and sensitive then he would slap them. Soap laid on his stomach and licked at your cunt, slurping up any juices that leaked from where Gaz had you stuffed.
His thumb pressed down on your clit and your entire body shook with the strength of the orgasm. It felt weird and your blurry eyes made out your pussy squirting. The liquid dripped down your legs where it sprayed and Soap licked it up like it was the water from the fountain of youth. Desperate and needy.
Whatever he didn't slurp up he gathered up with his fingers and brought them to your puckered hole. You squirmed as he pushed a finger in, pumping it in and out with the help of the slick that leaked out as Gaz pounded into you when you faltered.
You clawed at the blanket as Soap groaned, slapping your ass to watch it ripple and redden as he rutted into your ass. You looked up at Gaz and stuck your tongue out as he pumped his cock, pulling and twisting at it until it spurted hot ropes of come onto your face and waiting tongue.
You blinked and suddenly Soap was under you, his cock inside your pussy as Gaz groaned and pushed into your awaiting ass. "God yer still so tight." Soap groaned, throwing his head back. You always forgot how they filled you so well until your nearly bursting at the seams with their fat cocks.
"I-I can't." You whined as Gaz continued to feed his cock into your ass.
"Yes you can. You're doing so well dove. Just a little more." Gaz whispered, pressing kisses into your neck. You whined when they began to move, the burn of the stretch slowly turning into blinding pleasure. You pant as they rut into you.
You aren't sure when you passed out, but the warmth of the water wakes you up. You blindly grab as whoever is touching you and Gaz's voice answers. He coos and presses kisses to your forehead as he washes your sore body. "Gaz?"
"Hm?"
"Wheres Johnny?" You ask sleepily. Your limbs feel so heavy still
"Making you some dinner." He whispers. You hum and move closer to him.
"Can we do that again someday?" You ask and Gaz chuckles, telling you of course.
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jqnehr · 2 days
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❝ 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧'. ❞ | boothill.
boothill x fem!reader.
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and boothill meet in a bar, and have a very nice chat (aka, you flirt like mad).
𝐜𝐰: SFW!! no use of y/n, alcohol consumption (it's a bar come on now), bar banter/flirting. (pathetic attempts at) funny haha humour, and ermm well inspired by old 1950s western films (my dad adores john wayne i cannot escape them HELP), but like in the hsr universe yk. this one was meant to be funny because i had a BALL playing around with boothill's CANONICAL censor oh my god i love him. imagine calling him a fucktard and the only thing he can clap back w is "you son of a biscuit-eating bulldog" (what the french toast?) or something idk. can he say that? or can he only say nice things—anyways enough rambling 😔
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: (continuation from above basically) this man i tell you. i can't sleep. can't eat. he plagues me. day in and day out. i do not have the funds to pull for him. how dare he look at me with that sexy smirk? ain't got no money pal sorry. anyways here's a lil thing i wrote in honour of this man making my chronic fatigue worse <3 NOT PROOF READ. it is currently 12:44am as im posting this so there will be MANY typos haha im going to sleep now.
masterlist.
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"You look like you should be in a saloon."
The gun-slinging Galaxy Ranger glanced up at the woman who just took a seat beside him from beneath the brim of his hat, drawn from his thoughts. She had taken a seat that was a respectable distance from him, two bar stools down, the message clear that she wasn't here to chat him up and lead him off to somewhere secluded and have some 'fun', but was only here for small talk and a drink. Good thing she wasn't coming onto him, too. Saved him having to turn down yet another woman looking for a fleeting one night stand.
He went back to absentmindedly swirling the malt juice around in his glass. Car oil, basically. He let out a small chuckle. "Ain't the first time I heard that one."
"Yeah? Makes sense. Fit's cool, though." She nodded to his cropped jacket, his spurred boots, his pants with their sides unzipped. She didn't seem to be bothered by the sight of his belt lined with ammo and a holstered gun. "What's that your drinking? Looks like engine oil."
"Malt juice," Boothill humoured her. "Can't drink nothin' else. Perks o' bein' a machine."
"Machine?" The woman lifted a brow, taking a sip of her beer. "Ah, gotcha. You're a robot?"
"Cyborg, yeah." It didn't matter if he divulged in her what he usually wouldn't. It was just tedious small talk, a nice weight off his mind, and he wouldn't ever see her again, anyway. "Got its pros and cons."
"I see." He was starting to become rather surprised at how...nonchalant she was about this. She lifted her beer jug to her lips once more. "So, what do you do for a living? Go around cosplaying as a cowboy?"
"Heh. If ya like, sure." Boothill was getting curious. It was once in a blue moon he came across someone as relaxed as this woman. "Let's say, it's my...signature look. Across the galaxies. Helps people remember me."
"You're starting to sound like a criminal on the run," she laughed lightly, only out of politeness, really. "Considering the people I've come across around here, I wouldn't mind getting you've got a bounty on that pretty head of yours."
"Uh-huh." He swigged the last of his malt juice. "Perceptive of you, sweets. You a local? Frequent?"
"Pretty much." She shot him a glance. "And it seems I was right. Eh, don't worry. I don't care enough about ya to turn you in. How much you wanted for, anyway?"
"A lot." Boothill grinned impishly. "Those IPC cuties keep bumpin' the ‘prize money’ up, if ya like." He made air quotation marks. "Yer'd be set fo' life if ya got yer hands on that money."
"I'm sure I would be." She really didn't seem to care. "If you don't mind me asking, what's your name?"
"Boothill," he answered, inclining his head towards you. "What about you, darlin'?"
You gave him your name, downing the last of your beer, before hailing the bartender over for a refill. "Nice to meet you, Mr Boothill."
"D'aw, shucks, haven't been called 'mister' in a long time!" Boothill flashed a toothy grin, showing off his shark-like teeth. He noticed how you didn't recoil, barely even blinked, at the sight of them. "Makes me wanna buy you a drink, sugar."
"By all means." You're never one to pass such a offer up. "And you like to flirt, too, huh?"
He watched you rummage around in your purse for something. You finally pulled out a compact mirror and checked your appearance in its tiny mirror. He leaned forward, took your free hand, and placed a kiss to the top of it, winking at you from under his cowboy hat's brim. "With such a lovely lady as yourself? How could I not?"
You laughed in a rather unladylike way—you, more or less, gaffawed—before retracting your hand and tipping his hat right down over his eyes, disorienting him. Your cheeks burned. "You're a funny one, Mr Boothill. You sure know how to woo a lady."
He adjusted his hat, huffing, leaning back in his seat. "I wasn't bein' funny. I like ya. I don't just kiss any old woman's hand."
"Got a little crush now, have you?" You raised your beer jug up in his direction as a friendly salute of sorts, grinning. "Cute of you. I like you, too, but I'm not letting you take me home."
"Ain't got one to take ya to." Boothill shrugged, not noticing how your smile suddenly vanished and you were looking at him. "Sons of biscuits made sure I couldn't have one no more, 'cause I wasn't about to let 'em get away with shady things they keep nicely under wraps."
"'Sons of biscuits'...?" You echoed, puzzled. You were also suddenly feeling quite sorry for the man. He was a roamer—a nomad of sorts, never stuck in one place for very long. That, you were instantly able to tell once you first laid eyes on his broad back.
"Someone had a little play around with my Synesthesia Beacon, so now I can't say nothin' mean—I'll try to say honey, honey, ugh. I'm tryna say honey." He tsked in frustration. "See? Can't say it."
"You can't swear?"
"Yep. Very aggravatin' at times. Whenever I wanna yell the s-word in combat, I just say somethin' ridiculous like 'terrific!' or 'groovy!' I sound like a right looney tune."
You chuckled. "I can tell that if you didn't have that censor on, you'd have the mouth of a sewer."
"Heck yeah. I'm goin' to town with all 'em bad words right now in my head," Boothill scoffed. "Love 'em, love 'em, love 'em—see what I mean? Hopeless. Wanna drop the f-bomb real bad."
"Perks of being a cyborg, indeed," you laughed, patting his shoulder. "It's rather funny to see such a tough-looking guy like you run around without anything else to yell but 'unicorns! Cotton candy!' when someone jumps you."
He snorted. "That's about right. Had one cutie pie try to mug me once and I was gonna swear his ear off, but all that came out was "look at this angel!" instead of 'punk', but it's a way more colourful word than that."
"Gotcha." You leaned your elbows against the wooden top of the bar. You opened your mouth to continued, but a sudden commotion at the other side of the bar cut you off. Glancing over also, you and Boothill watched as one drunk mountainous guy versus a scrawny little weasel of a man went tooth and nail at each other.
"How's the skinny one still alive?" Boothill amusedly remarked, leaning his cheek on his fist. "Looks like a cartoon."
"Happens all the time." You watched on rather boredly, almost wincing when the small guy very narrowly missed getting his face flattened by his opponent's massive fist. "Those two baffoons are too drunk to think of anything other than settle this scrap with punches. Makes for a good show, though."
Boothill hummed, before turning back to face you. "Can you fight?"
"Me? Well, I know basic self defence, and when to tell someone's spiked my drink." You pushed the beer jug around on the bar top absentmindedly. "This environment's dangerous for a woman. Gotta look out for myself around here. I should stay away, but I like my alcohol."
He chuckled, gazing at you. "Glad to hear that. You ain't some damsel in distress. You're really somethin', you know that, sugar?"
You blushed at his stare and words. "Oh, get off it. It's something every woman's got to know in life. We shouldn't have to, but we do. It's sad."
"Sure is." He pursed his lips, suddenly grave. He may have been a vagabond in a way, but that didn't mean he didn’t have morals. And then he playfully nudged you. "Ya know, seeing an independent, badass lady like you is real attractive."
You grinned. "Boy, if you were anyone else, I would've slapped you for that. That is an instant red flag for any woman in a bar."
"Well, I'll tell ya right now, I'd never harm a woman unless I had no other choice." Boothill stared at you. "Especially not for my own gain. Hurtin' people ain't fun, even though it's my lifestyle."
You shrugged, trying to ignore his intense gaze and the way your heart rate picked up. "A sad reality, but it's nice to come across a man with manners." You finished off your beer and stood, slinging your handbag strap over your shoulder, giving him a kind smile. "Well, thanks for the talk, Mr Boothill. You're a gem."
He stood after you, the spurs on his boots jingling with the movement, before he took your hand and pressed another smooth kiss to the top of it. Then he winked once more, just as a finishing touch, and your cheeks flared. "Any day, darlin'. Say, how about I give ya my phone number? Have another drink sometime."
"You sure? Your vigilante habits wouldn't get in the way of it?"
He laughed goodnaturedly. "Oho, that's funny, sugar. Nah, I'd always make time for you. Here, hand me ya phone."
So you did, and he swiftly typed in his number, before returning your phone to you. "There ya go. Send me a message so I'll know yours." Then Boothill stooped down to eye level with you, staring at you from beneath his lashes and hat, lifting a hand to ruffle your hair affectionately. "Till we meet again, sweetheart."
With that, and a lingering stare as he strode by, the cyborg cowboy left you stunned, heart pumping, phone limp in your hold. He was gone in a blink, giving you no room to wish him farewell also, so you did it by text.
you forgot to pay the bill for your drink
so I covered it for you.
you owe me one, cowboy
His reply didn't take long, and it made your face burn hotter.
Oopsies 🤭
How about I pay you back by taking you to dinner huh?
His emoji usage made you laugh. And so you accepted his offer.
Alright then
I want steak
Can you even eat?
You liked how he always replied fast.
Nah
But that's fine
Your company's better
Suffice to say, you liked the man's suave manner and flirty compliments. It made you feel exhilarated.
Maybe it was because of his classic cowboy moves. Tipping his hat to you in respectful greeting or goodbye, a gaze much too human for a cyborg, and his smooth gestures that made you hot all over.
Yeah. Maybe it was. But, either way, you couldn't wait to see him again.
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© jqnehr 2024. all rights reserved. do not translate, repost/redistribute and plagarise any of my works.
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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months
Text
Please, Stand by [dark!Ghost x fem!Reader x dark!Soap]
You woke up in your captor's apartment. Turns out, getting out of the grasp of two trained special forces soldiers isn't exactly an easy task.
TW and tags: non-con to dub-con, size difference, power imbalance, fingering, hurt/comfort(but it comes from the ones who hurt you), yandere, dark!141, possessive 141, obsessive 141, kidnapping. AO3
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Simon never slept this well on leave. 
Always something happening – Soap breathing too loudly in their fucking bed, nightmares getting too wild even with as many meds as he could possibly take, neighbors behaving as if he wouldn’t be able to bloody shoot ‘em all and get away with it – he never enjoyed sitting at this place without a purpose, as much as he enjoyed not having to buy the whole space for himself. Johnny was really making things stir up a little around here – but it wasn’t enough. Never. 
Ghost found himself dumbfounded this exact morning, though – he gave up the space in the bedroom for you and Soap, knowing that the Scotsman has a much smoother way with women, and they don’t want to scare you too much. Poor thing, you’re already terrified of them – this won’t do, they aren’t monsters. A bit forceful, yes, but men in this position don’t exactly have much time for courting – and it's not like you’d agree to relationships with four of them at the exact same time if you really had a choice. Just means they have to take the choice away from you. Hell, he even thought of preparing your breakfast in bed – something that he never thought of doing. You were so good for him, for Soap, so nice and obedient, he almost forgot it was all because of the alcohol – not because you really wanted them so badly. Ghost isn’t a stranger to hookups and dates at random pubs where he could afford to not take his mask off – but it’s the first time he liked a girl so much. The first time he really wanted to just take you and… *** You woke up somewhere around noon. The aftermath of your hangover still lingered in the fog in your head as you were desperately trying to cling to consciousness. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to curl down and cry. You wanted to…
Ah, you’re finally awake. Good for you. 
The first thing that you feel is nausea. You already threw up at night, it’s evident by the stale taste of bile in your mouth – but you still feel like turning your stomach upside down and shaking it a little. 
The second thing you feel is a heavy hand on your waist. It’s muscly, hairy, covered in scars and burn marks – you don’t think that a man with hands like this would be at your taste for one-night stands. You don’t think you ever had a hookup session with a random person you didn’t even know, but whoever is clinging to your body like you’re a teddy bear has another opinion about acting all lovey-dovey with their playthings for the night. You try to worm your way out of the grasp, but the guy only tightens it. 
— Don’t move, lassie. I knew how ye feel. 
You seriously doubt that. 
— Where am I? 
Your voice is raspy, in desperate need of water. You don’t want to beg them for this, so you just bite your lips, hoping your voice doesn’t sound too pathetic. You’d kill for a bottle of water right now. 
— In yer home. 
— This is not…
— It will be, hen. Dinnae havta worry ‘bout that okay?
Guy – Soap, you remember, heard when the other guy, the second guy, was talking to him. Like you weren’t even fucking there like you didn’t have a say in the situation. You feel a trail of sloppy kisses landing on your neck, and your shoulders – damp skin is sweaty under the touches. You feel sluggish like you usually do on a hungover – like you usually do after a really nice girl's night out. 
Soreness between your legs makes you choke on your tears. You don’t want to cry, not in the presence of your captors. Not when all the memories you have is how soft they tried to be. How much did your alcohol-dazed mind like it. The thrill of them knowing all of your special buttons without you ever having to ask – you hate them, you want to hate them, you need to hate them. But you’re thirsty, hungry, your head hurts, you feel like shit, and they still didn’t beat you yet. 
The survival instinct comes to life when you hear the door opening. 
You struggle out of his grasp – thankfully, the guy is sleepy, he didn’t put up much of a fight. You manage to get out and fall on the fluffy carpet, surprisingly nice for a place where two rough looking bachelors are living. You don’t have enough time to think about the texture of the carpet, as you scramble on your feet and run. 
Fuck this, fuck everything, fuck trying to be soft and obedient – they don’t care about showing their faces and names to you, that you can just run to the police. Probably means they are going to kill you right after the cuddling session – and you’d rather be traumatised than dead. You think. Probably. Maybe. 
In your struggle, you didn’t even think of thinking that if the door is opening, it means that someone will be standing on the other side – or the apartment is extremely haunted. 
It wasn’t extremely haunted. Your cheek is flattened against a broad chest. A pair of hands that smell of tobacco and leather are forcing you into this perverse version of a hug, leaving you without any chance of getting out. All of your attempts at screaming are left with nothing but weird bubbly sounds as you struggle to breathe. You don’t want to panic, but, hell, you feel like you’re going to fucking die. 
Price had just seen the most beautiful woman of his life. 
With tears running down her cheeks, messy makeup, and even messier hair. She is wearing Soap’s T-shirt, which isn’t ideal, but no one is perfect, and even the prettiest girl out there has her flaws. She is crying and panicking, and she looks so bloody fantastic with her arse showing every time she tries to wiggle her way out of his grasp, and he doesn’t want to behave too brutally, but he wants to see the marks from his fingers grasping her wrists. He knew he saw you yesterday, fucked you yesterday. Held your hair as you were throwing up and forcing yourself to stop fucking vomiting all over the place – but you’re even prettier now, in the dim morning sun. Crying and struggling in his grasp, he can’t wait to share you with others – he knows Kyle would love fucking that tight arse of yours. Price would get a kick out of making you his stupid girl. 
And they, well, they will always have a special treatment reserved just for you. Gosh, you’re beautiful. Ghost knows why they had to take you. 
— Quiet, luv. Quiet. Calm down. — Let me…fuck you, let me go! You push at his chest, and the only thing he feels is the way his dick starts throbbing in his pants again. Gods, you’re fucking beautiful – much, much prettier than any girl he fucked through his life. So feisty once you’re sober, he knows how much fun you’re having in store for them once you’ve regained at least part of your strengths. — I will fuck you. Later. 
— No! — Now, if you insist on yelling so much. He gently forces you closer, his hand slipping to cup your arse. You feel divine in his arms – he doesn’t know how Soap manages to steady himself and not fuck you right in the car. He did make you suck his dick, but it obviously wasn’t enough – and won’t be, with how much you struggle now when the alcohol finally wears off. Ghost gives your ass a little squeeze, then – a few slaps, just to make sure you’re nice and obedient for them. You obviously haven’t worn panties under Johnny’s shirt, easy access doing easy accessing, and so when he finally managed to slip his fingers in your cunt, he was pleased to find out it was soaked. — You’re wet, luv. Can’t get more ready than this. 
You whimper in his chest, still terrified. He supposed you should be – he is wearing the mask, not wanting to scare you with his scars and intense gaze. Skull balaclava isn’t doing a good job at making you calmer, but…well, he can try to think about something. Soap had already shown you his face, and it’s not like you’re going anywhere. They would catch you faster than you could run to the local authorities – as much as you would love to think otherwise. Prey aren’t known for their wits, after all. — Pl…please, just let me go. Please? I won’t…
— Won’t tell anyone? 
— Yes! Please, I…I need to work. I have a shift in the… — You went to a pub before your shift? 
You sob, your little excuses clearly aren’t working. Ghost brushes his rough fingers among your folds, the stimulation on your pussy making you shiver. He knows you’re sore, his dick isn’t exactly tiny – you need some more orgasms to calm down, maybe get you nice and relaxed for them. If he knows his sergeant, he already got a word out to the rest of the team – and although Ghost really, really wants to just take you with them and share you as their little duo, Gaz and Captain deserve to have something nice too. Deserve to have someone nice. 
Ghost pulls his fingers out as soon as your whimpers turn into moans. He wants you nice and wet, but he needs you to beg for it. To recognize that the only way you’ll get anything around here is through obedience and behaving like a cute kitten, they decided to scoop from the streets. Not exactly a subtle look, but he can spell it out for you later. Make their shared dumb girl just a bit less dim. Maybe teach you a few manners – you don’t start a conversation with your captors from curses, for example. 
— Please. I…I have a family. 
Uh-oh. 
Tough shit, Ghost thinks. 
It would have worked in Private Riley – before he got into captivity himself before he got almost killed. Before he has lost everything he ever loved – and before he found a family in people who have the wondrous ability to enable his worst and best traits at the same fucking time. If you were a bit less weak, a bit more resilient if you didn’t cry as much and reminded him of himself in the past – who knows, you could have pulled at his heartstrings. 
But Lieutenant Ryley wants a girl to warm up his bed, and the beds of his comrades – and he knows you would do just perfect. So, he scoops you in his arms, like a disobedient kitten, and puts you in a place where, as he knows, all misery dies and the place where he is crawling every time he falls a bit down. 
He pushes you back to Soap’s bed. 
You cry even more when two beefy hands force you into a tight hug – Johnny is still half-asleep, and his growly sleepy voice makes your hair stand at ends. You hate them, you despise them, you feel like you’re going to fucking die rather than fall asleep in their embrace again, but Soap kisses your neck and whispers something in your ear – something accented, deep, no doubt dirty. Something that makes you whimper again and again, something that…god, you feel like a slut.
You rub your thighs together, trying to chase the heat away, but you only feel warmer. It never gets easier, you suppose – never gets just palatable enough. 
— Simon scared ye, bonnie? 
Johnny smiles when you only whimper, your desire to feel the warmth of another person making you fall right into the guy. It’s not something you’re proud of – Jesus Fucking Christ, you just snuggle with your kidnapper – but you need something to just feel…normal. Like hugs after a really good hookup. Like you just found someone to date and to kiss and to be in a proper relationship with. 
You whimper instead of answering, and you hear the Scot chuckling again, his grip on you getting tighter. He is like a koala – and you feel pretty…fine in his grasp. You’re too scared to get feisty because you already tried, and it just returns you to point A. The starting dot. The first page of your miserable journey opens with a tight hug and the smell of breakfast cooking. Burning. Cursing through a thick English accent, you could hear something in the kitchen getting absolutely blasted – in a negative sense. 
— I’m not scared of you. 
He laughs again. You can smell something burning, and you hope that the second guy – the scary guy – will set the entire apartment on fire and kill everyone inside, including you. 
— Ye shouldn’t be. We will take care of ye. 
— I will run as soon as I can. 
— Lt could break your legs. I could break your legs. 
You sob again, but Soap doesn’t rush to comfort you. You need to get this through your skull – you’re not resisting them without consequences. You’re not running away without them catching and punishing you. You will not as much as step out of this bed without their permission – even if they’d have to haul you to the bathroom themselves while you’re kicking and screaming. You deserve to get knocked down a peg about the subject of you actually having rights – and you deserve to be calmed down later, once they think you have been punished enough. — I just want to go home. 
— Cannae do that, lassie. 
— Are you going to kill me? 
— Not if yer obedient. 
You hear the sound of something hitting a glass bowl. Then – gulps of liquid are poured into the same bowl. The burning have stopped, making you think that whatever the skull guy tried to cook, is getting thrown out of the balcony now – you almost smile trying to picture the burly man in a cute apron, desperately begging for the eggs to stop burning and turning into a crisp. You could cook for yourself, but…well, they probably won’t let you use the knife. 
— Are you going to rape me again? 
You are pulled into a much closer hug. Johnny’s dick poking at your ass, making you shiver in his hold – making you try to get out as fast as possible and failing miserably. You have suggested that the guy was a part of something illegal – maybe a mafia reinforcer, the dweller of those weird candy shops that were opened throughout the country, but you caught a glimpse of some camouflage in the dresser when Simon was taking off his clothes…they are in the military. Maybe, it’s even worse than you initially thought – no way anyone will believe you over them. No way you will win a fight against them. 
— We weren’t raping ye, bonnie, Just…taking what ye really needed. 
You came harder under them than you ever did under any of your boyfriends or from your fingers. You feel pathetic because his eyes are innocent and cute, and you don’t want to make them hurt you again. You don’t answer. 
— We’ll take care of ye. Just keep yer arse in place and don’t resist, aye? 
You can’t do anything but nod. Don’t want to do anything but nodding. 
He smiles at your neck again. Kisses you again. Ray of shivers run down your tummy. 
Ghost showed up in the bedroom again, holding a bowl of honey cereal. You are hungry – you need something to soak up the alcohol, and you’d want something greasy and terrible, or maybe a soup and tea later – but the cereals are better than whatever was slowly getting burned on the stove. 
They could drug you – then again, it feels like you’d prefer being unconscious anyway. 
— Price will be there in an hour. Got his call. 
The Scot being you, curses under his breath, his hands finally letting you go. You took the bowl and started to eat, as quickly as you could. 
A hand slips over your waist, steadying you. 
— We’ll make her presentable, aye? 
You don’t want to be presentable, but something in their voices are telling that you don’t have a choice. 
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lanabuckybarnes · 15 days
Note
💳💳💳 take all my money but pleeeeease write more about dirty big boy Lee who wants to give you his son because that small drabble had me sweatin already😮‍💨
Ask and thee shall receive!
Breeding Bitch
18+ MINORS DNI
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(I do not own any photos, Credits to original owners)
Uhhh so this is fucking….maybe the warnings would describe this a bit better hehe 👀.
Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Reader
Warnings: Dark Lee!, LEE BODECKER!!, Dub/Non-Con Themes, Unestablished Age Gap but there is definitely one (Reader 20s, Lee late 30s/40s), Cheating (it's Lee), Teeny Size Kink if you squint, Names: Darlin, Good Girl, Baby, Slut, Bitch, Whore, Heifer, Girl. Handcuffing, Good ole Gaslighting, Degradation, Gagging, Dirty Talk, Cervix Abuse, Voyeurism? (Your father is in the next room), He uses the fact that your Pa is so close to his advantage, Mentions of Breeding, actually Breeding, Alcohol (Again, It’s Lee), Marking, Biting, Slapping, Bleeding (from yer cooch), Spitting, Daddy Kink, Rough P in V, Threats (Lee threatens your teeth), Dacryphilia, Panty Stuffing, Absolutely zero aftercare— if I’ve missed anymore, especially in a story like this one, please lemme know!!
DO NOT PROGRESS IF ANY WARNING(s) TRIGGER YOU PLEASE!!
Word Count: 1.2k
This is a doozy. I’ll put a lil palette cleanse at the end for you my loves ♥️
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“Augh shit you’re fucking tight” Lee growls above you, cock head pushed uncomfortably against your cervix, your hands cuffed above your head and your panties in your mouth.
You would never admit this to anyone. The almost nightly occurrences of Lee ending up in your little cottage on the hill, his pants round his ankles and his cock wherever he so chose.
It was his wife’s fault, he’d told you; she was sick, old and unable to give him what he wanted. That’s why when you moved into town, bright-eyed and innocent, he had to have you.
His head rolled with his eyes, a strained groan flowing from his lips as his tummy jiggled softly at the tightening of his core.
“Never get over a tight little pussy like this” You whined as he pushed further, sheathing his dick fully inside you.
What would your daddy say if he saw you like this, legs spread akimbo for a married man, the Sheriff no less? Your hands pulled against the cuffs attached to the headboard, the rhythmic clanging had Lee’s eyes shooting open.
“Hey now! Darlin” a huge hand smoothed over your metal clasped wrists before running down your arm to your left breast, he squeezed firmly.
“You wouldn’t want your daddy waking up now would you?” that fucking smirk, the dark look in his eyes— he had you, right where he wanted— the reminder of your feeble old Pa in the next room keeping you tamed, Lee didn’t care about him finding out about your little secret, he’d fuck you right in front of him, but he knew it would keep you pliant for him.
You stopped, hands hanging painfully from the cuffs.
“Good girl, knew you’d come around…now you let me breed this little cunt, loosen up a bit, enjoy it” The brandy on his breath had you queasy as it mixed with his residual cologne. His thick lips peppered marks all over your breast, tongue licking the flesh before biting down with a force that had your toes curling and you crying out into the cotton of your panties.
“Oh don’t be dramatic” he chuckled, slapping the reddened mark lightly. He groaned as he pulled his length out slowly, letting you feel each inch run over the stretched flesh of your heat until his cock head fell from you in a sickly squelch, his precum mixed with your blood.
“God baby, you’re fucking soaked…you like me doing this to you? Course you do you fucking slut” Lee gleams wickedly before launching a huge glob of spit over your clit and his head, his thick fingers circling your clit once, twice and then rubbing the saliva over himself.
He keeps your head still, forcing you to look at him as he pushes in again, making you watch as his dark eyes swim with amusement at your pathetic little whimpers.
“Mmmn…you know, if I didn’t have to do this, I’d feel bad for your stupid little face” Lee laughs, slapping his fingers against your cheek mockingly.
His patience had worn thin, you were lucky enough to get this much prep from him but he was over it now— the growing itch to fill your fertile little hole with his cum becoming too overwhelming.
He slams in, hitting your already abused cervix painfully. His pace is brutal, the only thing stopping the headboard from clattering off the wall being the pillow he’d so ‘generously’ placed between them.
“Oh shit! you fucking little breeding bitch, ahh I ain’t ever had a pussy this tight… fucking made for me, wasn’t it? Yeah, it fucking was” Lee rambles, as he usually does. You could do nothing but take whatever he was giving you, you wouldn’t dare fight back— did you even want to at this point? He had you all cock drunk, stupid little baby so you were.
“Mmm, baby you like this” Lee spoke assertively, punctuating each word with a hard thrust “Push me away as much as you want but at the end of the day you’re still gonna take my load happily… I mean look” he laughs as he pushes your legs from his wide shoulders, they fall open on their own. “You fucking hold yourself open for my spunk, you fucking want this, you need it… you want my son ya little slut”
The quick yank of your panties from your mouth made you gag slightly, the drool that had gathered falling from the corner of your mouth and into your tresses of hair. It amused Lee, watching you stare off into that little space you ran to, unable to control your body— you let him fuck you however he wante— no, however you needed.
Lee’s hand clasped around your face painfully, his thumb hooking behind your teeth “fucking answer me whore, or I’ll pull these out” a firm tug to your lower jaw warned you before he spat again, the hot liquid falling right on your tongue.
“I want this… wan you! Want your baby! Please Lee gimme your baby” you wailed, no longer caring about your volume.
“Good little slut, always begging for daddy ain’t you? You take this fucking baby, you take everything I give you” Lee’s pace stuttered, only for a second, but it told you everything you needed to know and you were disgusted at the way your body pled for it. The way your back arched, your pussy squeezing and frantic cries fell from your lips as your orgasm slammed into you like a train.
“Oh shit! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Lee practically screamed as he sank himself into one last time, releasing spurt after spurt of his thick, hot, cream against your bruised womb entrance. You don’t know how long his dick sat in your throbbing canal, only falling from you once he was fully soft.
“God, who’d I fucking bless to get a little heifer like you hmm?” He spoke eventually, kissing your cheek, allowing his tongue to poke out and lap at the salty tears falling freely from your big sad eyes.
“Don’t look so fucking upset at this, it’s a good thing, you’re being used for something great…I know girls that would have their panties round their ankles in no time if I let them” He chuckled while standing, fingers gripping your discarded undergarments to wipe along his cock, gathering his cum, and your slick; which had a tinge of red from the tear in your fragile skin he caused by stretching you out.
Once he deemed himself clean enough, he ran the panties through the mess pouring from your core.
“This won’t do, you’re supposed to keep it in” He tutted before pushing the soaked material into your stretched hole, his fingers stuffing the scratchy fabric into you carelessly. He made quick work of the cuffs digging painfully into your wrists, placing a quick peck over each dark mark around them.
“Tomorrow, I don’t want none of this fighting bullcrap you hear? No panties, no bra, no attitude— just you, alright girl?” He pushed your cheeks together, puckering your lips in the process.
You knew that what you said to him wouldn’t matter, he’d take you all the same so you just nodded like you would every single time his cerulean stare flickered over your much smaller structure.
“Atta girl” His lips grazed over your own, and then like a ghost, he was gone, leaving you to sob in a pile of your own mess.
-
I’m so sorry for him, he’s not usually like this, I promise he’s a nice guy 😔 🚩
Here’s your payment~
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auspicioustidings · 4 months
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For the 1k requests/suggestions:
Druid!Soap who's protected the lands faithfully and ferociously for years, and Reader, the nature god/goddess/diety/spirit of those lands, decides to reveal herself and reward him for it?
Could go in any direction you want, pure fluff or darker or smut or anything! Just the first idea I had
Ok so you know how you said it could be darker or smut? Got carried away with this one :') This is just feral PWP that was written in one sitting and Johnny is mean as shit in it so pls HEED THE CWs.
Foul Magic
Words: 2.8k
CWs: Non-con, heavy smut, threatened bestiality (sort of, it's a Druid-ey shapeshifting hybrid thing and I have no clue how to CW that)
He was your greatest protector, had been for a decade now. When John MacTavish had offered himself to your service he had been a reckless teen, already an expert at spilling blood. You were no Silvanus, only a simple forest spirit with your own forest to tend and a handful of followers amongst the bordering villages mainly made up of the hunters and foragers who benefited from your kindness. 
“I will pledge myself tae ye for 10 years forest spirit” the young man had called out in the midst of the trees, “and in return I ask that once my service is complete ye reveal yourself tae me.”
It was a strange offer. You had never had anyone pledge themselves to you before. People left offerings certainly, made small shrines, but you had never had a sworn protector. A Druid, you thought, you could make him a Druid. You could finally test what your magic could really do.
Human lives were such short things that you didn't fully believe he would complete the 10 years. The life of a Druid was solitary and hard. He took to it with a violent fury that took your breath away. Never before had the soil been so sustained on the blood of those who sought to plunder its treasures without the proper respect. Every boon afforded him, John took and wielded as if born to hold such power. 
He was magnificent. Bear like in his strength, wolf like in his ferocity, fox like in his cleverness. And all too soon the 10 years was up. You had made a deal and would have to hold to it if you wanted to keep him. And you did want to keep him. The thought of your Druid leaving your forest made the flowers wilt around you.
He strode into your Grove, a man now. He was broad and full of scars proving his devotion to your protection, his hair shaved in at the sides but left long in the middle with braids shot through. You were fascinated by how strong he had become, muscles functional and snuggled under a layer of fat as proof of your care for him, tartan fabric held to his body with only clever pleating and a belt. 
“I have served faithfully for 10 years as was promised, I’ve come tae collect what I’m due.”
“And I hope in those 10 years you have enjoyed my patronage.”
He turned to see you, an ethereal thing made flesh for him. Fucking finally. He strode forward as your fond, soft smile turned to a look of fear, his hand bunching up in your hair and yanking you to look at him. You found that when you tried to shift to another form his magic, the magic you had given him, was weaving through yours to try and block you. The thought that you would be as helpless as some human maiden was horrifying.
“If ye had any sense at all, ye wouldnae have given me all yer power. Did ye really think I’d serve ye for ten years just tae look at ye?” he spat, venomous and unlike the Druid that had spoken worship on the wind to you all this time. “Fucked plenty of virgins in yer wee forest right under yer nose, had them gagging and crying, but none of them have satisfied what it is I really wanted. Been thinking about your tight wee nymph cunt being good and broken on my cock since I could use it, and I am a very patient man when it comes tae the things I want.”
You glowered at him, feeling your magic slide against the wall he had built and glancing off. He grinned an awful beastly grin and threw you to the floor, the slam of your knees on dirt unfamiliar and unpleasant. 
“You cannot do this. Please John, see reason. You are a protector of this place!”
He laughed and circled you, putting a boot firmly to the centre of your back and kicking you down so your face landed in the soil.
“Aye, I was until today. 10 years was the agreement, and now I take payment. Arse up, present properly for yer protector, least ye could do after all this time.”
He surely couldn’t mean to mount you like some beast. The idea that he meant to violate you at all was already unthinkable, but to do it in such a violent and debased manner was unforgivable. 
“You will not do this!”
You flared your power and he shoved it back, forcing it to act against you. He controlled it, the sickening pulse of your own magic being twisted as your body cracked and shifted. It was wrong, some half shift that felt unnatural. You heard the tear of the thin gossamer gown draped over you as something ripped through it. He laughed meanly and you howled in pain as you were grabbed by what you realised was a tail to force your hips up for him. He had done a disgusting thing with your magic, keeping you in your human form with the tail of your wolf form purely to torture you. It was forbidden to do such a thing, to create some new creature outside of nature in any way. You could feel hot tears spilling over as he wrapped the tail around his fist, pulling and twisting horribly. 
“Ye going tae behave? Or dae ye need to find out what I can dae to my own form?”
The implication was horrible. You scrambled with a sob, bracing your knees and moving yourself to present the way he wanted you to. 
“Aww, dinnae want a nice knot?” he said as he leaned over you, pressing his body to yours so his hot, wet breath was panting in your ear. “Maybe ye’d prefer something else.”
His foul magic invaded you again and you could see how your nails sharpened. Your hand barely started to shift into the paw of a snow leopard and you immediately started to plead. If he fucked you using that kind of cock you would surely be torn to shreds.
“P-please! Your cock! Just yours John, I want it.”
“Aye? I dinnae ken if I’m convinced. Maybe it’d be good to get my barbs in ye, fuck you bloody.”
“No please, it… it wouldn’t fill me properly if it wasn’t your human form. Wouldn’t be able to breed me like I want. Please fuck me with your cock John, I want it so badly” you sobbed, bile rising at your own words.
He laughed in dark delight, the hand gripping painfully at your tail letting go to plunge two fingers into you. It felt like you were being penetrated with a hot poker with how little warning he had given. You choked through breaths as your shape twisted back to yourself, tail painfully deforming and the formation of paws reversing. 
“Good thing yer body is backing ye up. So fucking wet and messy already little slut, knew ye’d be drooling for my cock.”
He noticed how you were taking shuddering breaths, clearly fixating on a spot in the distance to try and dissociate. That wouldn’t do at all and he ripped apart what was left of the thin gossamer so he could bring his open palm hard to the meat of your ass. He knew by how you squealed that nobody had ever taken a hand to you before and it was delicious.
Breaking you was all he had ever wanted, it was all he thought about when his cock was deep inside some new needy cunt or tight arse or wet mouth. He hated how after they would try to keep him as if he was something to be owned by anyone else. He had lost count of the lives he had taken from losing his temper over it. But now that he had you crying in the dirt, pussy throbbing around his fingers, he wanted to savour it. 
Your nails clawed at the ground and you tried to get onto your hands and crawl forward when his fingers left you and instead he buried his head between your legs. His grip on your thighs was painfully tight, yanking you right back into position with your arms collapsing back under you, face down ass up. 
It was too much, his tongue was wet and squirming and hot and inside you. He meant to devour you, to ruin you entirely. You had about braced to be fucked, but not for this, not for the intense spark of heady desire that came from this. 
“Fuckin’ knew it, knew ye’d taste sweeter than anything else” he growled against you as he released one thigh to get his fingers on your clit, needing to get you wetter to sait the thirst for your arousal that was burning through him now. “Dae ye taste good everywhere?”
“J-John! Ah you can’t, not there” you babbled as he licked up to your rim, diving into it with the same enthusiasm as he had your pussy. 
It was disgusting how he tongued up the slick that was weeping from your cunt to drag it to your ass, plunging his tongue in and out of your hole and driving you absolutely mad. This was debauched. The trees were creaking and groaning around you, powerless to help their mistress.
“Tell me ye fucking love it.”
“Stop, please!”
“Fucking say it” he growled, sinking his teeth into the same flesh he had slapped earlier. 
You screamed, sure he must have used that horrid magic again to sharpen his teeth to that of a predator with how you felt the skin break, his tongue lapping at the trickle of blood he had earned himself. 
“I love it” you said quietly, ashamed.
“Use your fucking words.”
The threat of his teeth was still there, they were scraping against your clit.
“I love your tongue in my ass! It’s perfect, thank you so much, making me so w- making me so wet” you moaned out, feeling your cunt clench with the shame of knowing it wasn’t quite a lie.
“Good girl” he purred, the praise vibrating through you. “Should reward ye naw? What dae ye want?”
There was a dark warning laced in his tone. You knew there was a wrong answer and you wouldn’t dare to give it. If you pleaded for a stop to this he would do much worse to you than if you pleaded for the less painful option.
“Want to cum on your mouth, want to cum on your cock in my pussy.”
“Mm? Whose mouth? Whose cock?”
You squeezed your eyes shut against the utter humiliation this human was making you face.
“Yours… master.”
“Atta girl.”
He laughed behind you before bringing that sinful mouth to latch onto your clit. He sucked hard and then lapped at it like a beast until you were squirming only to then go to your opening and make sure he got every drop of sweet liquid drooling out of you. It was torturous as your body betrayed you over and over again, pliant and gushing for him. He kept you on the edge of euphoria for what felt like hours before you broke.
“Fuck! Please master, want to cum!” 
The panting moans were brainless, you were so desperate. He cooed at you, his tone saccharine even as his words were degrading.
“Needy wee slut, cannae keep your legs closed can ye? Disgusting bitch tae let a man do this tae ye. Bet ye dream of walking into the village and letting everyone have a go at this sloppy cunt.”
“Only you master, please please please!”
“Aye, only me.”
His tongue which had been wild before was now lethally precise, the tip of it flicking rapidly at your throbbing clit. As you felt yourself crest he wrenched one of your arms to put your own hand there while he removed his face. Out of some hedonistic instinct you started to play with yourself to make the orgasm last, so stupid from the pleasure that it took a moment for the pain to sink in as his cock was forced inside you to the hilt.
Johnny was in rapture. Forcing himself in while your poor cunt was fluttering and clenching on nothing was almost painful from how tightly his cock was being squeezed. Your body was panicked, pleasure and pain at their height at the same time making you so incredibly tight and hot for him. Fuck, the way you were pulsing around him it was almost like getting a blow job, the ripple of wet pressure making him howl out his pleasure against your screech of pain.
He had already so thoroughly broken you that when he started to fuck you at a brutal pace you just drooled and cried and babbled. The distinction between pain and pleasure, what you hated and what you loved, was completely erased. It was all the same liquid heat inside of you that was demanding this. Demanding for you to be fucked savagley into the dirt, for you to take everything he had to give you. Demanding to be bred like the bitch in heat you were.
“I ken sweetheart, ye need tae earn it. Cum around my cock again.”
You didn’t even know what you were saying out loud and what thoughts were your own anymore as your clumsy fingers slipped around on your clit, trying to create friction despite the smooth glide from how much you dripped with arousal. You could feel the stickiness on your fingers, feel tendrils stretching lewdly in a connecting strand whenever you moved them away from your skin.
“Fucking dae it, cum on my cock!” 
It was a lightning storm of pain versus pleasure ripping through you as he adjusted to slam into that spongy spot inside you that set off every nerve ending over and over with no reprieve. At the same time he began to absolutely brutalise your ass with his open palms, violent and unrestrained. There was a gush of liquid as you came, screaming your throat raw.
John had never felt so powerful. You had been reduced to a squirting, screaming mess underneath him, a fucking animal begging in the dirt. He handled you how he liked, went as hard as he wanted. Any human would have broken. Any human would have fucking died with how he finally unleashed the beast inside of him, finally married violence with sex the way he had always wanted. 
“That’s it, fucking daft bitch, stupid wee brood mare, made tae fucking take it!”
You were begging again, nothing left in your brain but the desperation to be bred by a strong male. He was happy to do it, loyal protector that he was. Happy to give you exactly what you whined and mewled for, slamming home and cumming deep inside you. He fucked you through his own orgasm. He fucked you even when it was painful. It wasn’t until his cock finally slipped out, spent and struggling to find any purchase when he wasn’t fully engorged given how fucking sloppy you were.
He pushed you away after, leaving you a pile on the floor panting and ruined. Sitting back on his heels he had to take a moment for the dizziness from what had just happened to subside. Time for him to get out of this forest he supposed. He was not welcome on this land anymore. As he stood he took stock. While his kilt simply draped again to cover the sticky mess you had left on his skin and the dirt on his knees was easy enough to dust off, your gown was torn to shreds, your body beaten and bruised. He was perhaps a little surprised when your eyes opened and you blinked at him.
You felt the delicious strain of the most satisfying fuck of your life, only opening your eyes when you heard him get to his feet. Oh, he thought he was leaving. His eyes lit up with confusion and a tiny spark of feral delight as vines erupted from the ground to ensnare his ankle. Silly boy, thinking you powerless. If you had truly imbued him with the amount of your power he had deluded himself that you had, his human body would have burnt up and been dust on the wind years ago. It was laughable that he would have been able to block your magic.
“Did you truly think I didn't know your intentions from the start? Oh John, you are mine” you said with the fond bemusement one might have for a grumpy child. “Now come and perform your duty to your mistress, I am hardly done with you.”
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