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[ so we've had portal pussies. now we've got... portal portraits? for @youarehereyouaresafe ๐ ]
there's nothing quite like getting shot in the head to change the trajectory of a man's life. not just physically - although john mactavish carries the scar and the limp to remind him of that afternoon in the tunnel - but psychologically too. he'd never really thought too much about after. about life post military. about what he would do if his body no functioned the way he needed it to.
so now? he travelled. not like he used to, when all the sights he saw were war zones and the inside of transport vehicles. now he travelled because he could; trains across europe, chasing beauty he never had time for before. tonight he was tucked away in a hotel in rome, feet aching, freckles starting to bloom across his nose from a day spent in the sun.
the hotel room wasโฆ interesting to say the least. dark painted walls. wooden shutters on the windows.
and tits everywhere.
every single art piece in his hotel room was a renaissance style portrait of a woman with her tits out. the owner had called it 'artistic ambience'. john called it his own personal Titty Palace for the next two nights.
he'd just stepped out the shower, towel slung low over his hips when he felt it; that familiar feeling of eyes on his back. he turns, sharply, but sees nothing. then out of the corner of his eye - movement.
one of the fucking portraits was moving. waving at him from where she's sprawled in a robe on a chaise.
he blinks. rubs at the scar on the side of his head; sure it's a tbi induced hallucination - although he's not had one of those for a long time.
but then he locks eyes with you and you wink.
john's breath hitched. you stretch, arch your back, let your legs fall open as you slide one hand down your belly; fingers finding the soft heat between your legs - slick, glistening, unmistakable real despite the gilded frame around you.
โfuckinโ hell.โ he whispers, but his cock was already twitching; starting to throb as he watched the way the painted woman toys with herself.
he dropped the towel.
your gaze drops with it; a slow smile lighting up your face. john spits into his hand; wraps it around the thick length of his cock; strokes once, twice whilst watching you. you mirror him, fingers circling your clit before sinking two inside yourself with a silent moan, hips rolling. john could almost imagine the wet sounds that would fill the room if he could hear you. your fingers match his rhythm perfectly, plunging deeper, body bouncing with every thrust of your hand. their eyes stayed locked. johnโs breath starts coming in rough, ragged gasps.
then, as he reached his free hand out to trace over the painting, something happens. the painting shimmers. then he'sโฆ in it?
"what the fuck." john mutters, eyes wide.
"been waiting for someone to finally try that." you grin up at the confused man with the overgrown mohawk, before reaching one (very real, very solid) hand out to pull him down onto the chaise with you.
johnโฆ can't bring himself to question it.
sure he'll probably wake up on the floor of his hotel room tomorrow and this will have all been a heat induced dream. but right now? he might as well make the most of it.
so he kisses you, hard; tongue sliding against yours as he settles between your thighs; hands grasping your waist as he positions himself at your slit before snapping his hips and sinking inside you in one thrust; bottoming out with a groan into your mouth. you moan, loud, uninhibited as your nails rake down his back.
he fucks you like a man who half thinks this is a dream; hard, deep, rolling strokes that make your cunt flutter around him - the kind that make your back arch and pleasure coil tight and hot in your lower stomach. every thrust pushes you deeper into the fabric of the chaise; his body covering yours like a solid, warm blanket. he bends his head, trails kisses down your jaw and throat and sternum before taking the peak of one pebbled nipple into his mouth, feeling you clench down hard around him.
he loses rhythm; pounding into your slick cunt with almost desperate snaps of his hips, snaking one hand between you to rub circles on your clit with still-calloused fingers.
when you come, pussy squeezing and soaking his cock, he moans louder than you do; following after with one last snap of his hips, burying himself as deep inside you as he can possibly get.
the two of you stay locked together, breathing against each others mouths, your fingertips tracing the scar on the side of his head with touch that feels more real than a painting has any right to.
John Priceโs favorite position is a mating press because heโs a fucking dirty old man with a raging breeding kink. The position allows him to fuck you real deep, kiss your cervix just so with his fat tip so that he fills your womb thrust after thrust.
And he keeps you there long after heโs finished, legs pressed to your shoulders, cock keeping you nice and plugged with his seed, muttering something breathless and ragged about โmaking a baby stick.โ
John MacTavishโs favorite position is cowgirl because heโs obsessed with you and it gives him the perfect view of everything you. How your face scrunches when you sink all the way to the bottom or the way your tits bounce with each new thrust.
How your weight feels on top of him, so youโre in control. And the way you look at him, eyes determined, when he starts to get overstimulated, and begs you to stop, but you just fuck him harder.
Kyle Garrickโs favorite position is doggy because heโs an ass man after all and your hips are the perfect handles. He canโt stare at the way your ass recoils off his hips for too long or listen to the loud smack or else heโll finish too quickly.
And he doesnโt even have to tell you; you just know he likes it when you bury your face into your arms and arch your ass that much higher. You donโt ever run too, just take the way his balls slam against you, meeting him with each deep thrust.
Simon Rileyโs favorite position is prone brone because he canโt look at your face without immediately needing to finish. Heโd rather take you this way, with your body trapped under his, weight suffocating you, so you have no option, but to take it.
Likes curling his hand around your neck and burying his face against your shoulder. Likes the way your legs kick out even more when heโs fucking you too roughly hands scrambling to find purchase on anything.
The king assigns four knights to the princess in hopes to protect his daughterโs innocence and modesty, your virtue and purity. But your poor father doesnโt know what happens behind closed doors. Canโt seem to figure out why every potential suitor runs away with their tails tucked between their legs.
Knight! Tf141 x Princess! Reader
Tags: Poly! Tf141, Stereotypical hierarchy during regency era, Regency era inaccuracies, Mentions of forced marriage, Mention of non-consensual/aggressive touching/pulling/pushing, angst, fluff, eventual smut
Next (soon!)
The king, your father, assigns four knights to your side because you canโt seem to keep yourself out of trouble or disgracing the family name. He hopes to protect his daughterโs innocence and modesty, your virtue and purity. Four knights who he thinks are doing their job quite well, pleased to hear that you havenโt been causing too much havoc around the kingdom.
But your poor father doesnโt know what happens behind closed doors. Canโt seem to figure out why every potential suitor runs away with their tails between their legs.
You suppose it started rather innocent, your father wanted you to find a suitor, become married to a distinguished family. Give him an heir even if you did not want to, were not ready for a child of your own. So, when your father started inviting suitors to the castle you hid amongst the abundance of wardrobes and armories you could find.
You were thankful that you had a loyal lady-in-waiting by your side, tried to hide your secret for as long as she could from the king. But when this no longer worked you began to climb the garden walls. Which wasnโt exactly an easy feat, especially in the bodice and garments you were constantly adorned with. Tore the stitching in one too many gowns, bashfully brought the ripped fabric to your handmaiden.
Regularly scolded how โyour highness, I have never met a young lady whoโs ruined so many gowns before. Perhaps you should have learned how to sew instead of how to ride a horse.โ
โBut I do know! Mama taught me so!โ you would argue, plopping your head at her knees while she sewed, โIf she was still here do you think she would stop father from forcing me to wed?โ
โI do not know, little deer, but the king has been entirely gracious with you. You have reached the age to marry for years now, and he never demanded it of you until now.โ
โWell, perhaps he should have done it when I was young and naive! Maybe I would have been more inclined with the woes of marriage.โ
She would laugh nodding her head, โYes, perhaps he should have. Youโre too stubborn for your own good.โ
And when she was done, she would show you the double stitching she used to reinforcer the material to prevent any future tears. Then lean real close and whisper the next date your father had invited suitors with a hushed promise of preparing your horse outside the garden walls for your โgreat escape.โ
You thought that would be the worse of it, but maybe your defiance came as a guttural shock to your father. You had been nothing but obedient, the perfect image of a princess before now and perhaps he was not prepared for your sudden insolence. Had called you into his royal office to scold you that he could not understand why you would possibly be undermining his honor.
โPerhaps he had given you far too much freedom,โ he had grumbled, โMaybe he should not have taught you how to ride a horse or how to shoot a bow and arrow. It was unladylike to know how to hunt, after all.โ
โBut Father, you were the one who insisted on taking me hunting! Mama advised you otherwise.โ You had interjected.
โYes, indeed, it would have been wise to listen to your mother.โ
โFather, I assure you that knowing how to hunt has not hindered my want to be married.โ
โThen maybe it is all those books you have been reading, filling your mind with strange ideas and fantasies. That will not do, you are my daughter and you will marry.โ
That was when he assigned the royal guard, Sir MacTavish, to your side. You had thought that was rather dramatic, a knight would not make you marry. Though, it was not the worst company to have, and he was quite easy to charm. So, when the first visitor arrived after MacTavish was assigned, you were able to wrangle your way out of his sight. A fact that your father wasnโt entirely pleased about. You almost felt guilty watching MacTavish get reprimanded by your father.
Which is how you found yourself in your current situation. If one knight wasnโt enough, your father certainly thought four should do the trick, which proved true. It was rather difficult to escape the tight confines of knights such as Sir Price and Sir Riley, the pair was far more diligent and rigid than MacTavish was.
You thought four knights was a bit excessive especially considering you were merely a princess and not an enemy to the throne. Truthfully, you might have taken MacTavish for granted. Not a moment went by where you werenโt under the watchful eye of the royal guard. Couldnโt roam the castle without them following close behind, perched in the library reading a book and there they were. Sat in silence while you practiced the piano in the great hall, watched you paint with oils and watercolors in the drawing room, followed along on your horse rides.
At first you despised it, despised them with every breath. Privacy was nonexistent for a woman such as yourself, and four knights were not exactly the company you craved, but with time they began to meet your fancy.
Sir Price began to share novels he read with you when the two of you sat in the library. Swapped preferred books with each other every week before discussing the language and thoughts when returning the next week after finishing the works. The discussions would turn quite heated, but Price would laugh along, a glint of admiration in his eyes every time you challenged something he said or the words in the book.
Sir Garrick sat on the piano bench with you while you played; he enjoyed the music, the sounds and symphonies, so you taught him how to play easy songs and ballads. Couldnโt help but smile every time he mastered a song with you, every time he wanted to show the other three knights what he learned proudly. Met your eyes with reverence and adoration every time the two of you performed a song without mistakes.
Sir MacTavish accompanied your side while painting, albeit he was a far better artist than you were, so he helped you more than you were able to help him. Explained certain ways you could stroke your brush, how to apply shadows and depth, angles and perspective until you were accurately able to capture a landscapes, sunsets, and portraits. Clapped and smiled at you boisterously and proud when you finished a new painting, singing your praises.
Sir Riley drank morning tea with you before joining you on your horse rides in the forest. As soon as it became an established routine, he had a cup of warm tea waiting for you every morning, drank in comfortable silence while you rubbed the sleep from your tired eyes. He followed far behind on your rides, gave you the space and freedom he knew you had been craving, or maybe it was because he enjoyed the peaceful look on your face in the dewy mornings; you werenโt entirely sure, but you cherished the time anyways.
Now, there was not a day you did not look forward to MacTavishโs careless talking, unconcerned and informal or the deep grunts of acknowledgement from Riley. You treasured your interactions with them, but it did not change the fact that they were there to push you into the hands of dukes you did not want. Just as they sat there during your leisure; they accompanied your side when you were sent on excursions with dukes and lords. Forced you to participate and eliminate any chance of an escape.
Maybe you were still naive, maybe you should not have believed that they would not follow your fathers orders, that the bond you were beginning to form with them was more than that. So, as much as you enjoyed their time; your relationship with them remained hostile when it felt as if they betrayed you. Your words were harsh, your stares even harsher; you shut them out, stopped reading the books Price would give you, sat in the middle of the piano bench to prevent Garrick from sitting with you, painted in the confines of your private quarters, pushed the tea that Riley would make away as soon as your fathers efforts seemed to work, as soon as you were sent off to be married, an act you did not have a say in, not when you father honored the man with his blessing to take your hand.
When you had turned to your four knights for help, they turned their gaze the other way, left you stranded and helpless. You were sure they had heard you crying in your room more times than not, wallowing in your bed because you were to marry a man that repulsed you.
Still, they did nothing, but guide you into his arms.
You knew it was not entirely their fault, they were serving their king, following his orders no matter how much it pained them to watch you push them away, listen to the sobs ricocheting off your walls, but it still settled a nasty taste in your throat, vile and painful every time they ushered you to another ball with the Duke.
That was before Sir Riley had attended a horse ride with you and the Duke, trailed far behind the two of you when you stopped at the stream you always perched yourself at every morning. It was not mandatory for Riley to follow you, not when you were in the presence of the Duke, but he came along anyways. Maybe it was because he wore his occupation like a badge of honor, maybe it was because he did not trust the Duke alone with you.
Perhaps he knew he should not have trusted the Duke.
You had begun to peel your shoes off, just like you always did at the stream, preparing yourself to walk into the cold water. The Duke watched you with hesitant eyes contrasted the reverence in Sir Rileyโs directly behind him; it was an act he had seen you perform countless times, stood and watched you closely, so you would not lose your footing, but it was new to the Duke. An action he deemed he did not like as he lunged forward as soon as you began to move, banding his strong grip on your arm.
โYou are not to go into that water.โ The Duke snarled, pulling you backwards so harshly that you stumbled over your footing, fell backwards into the rushing water.
Sir Riley was by your side in an instant, hoisting you into his brawny arms, and carrying you to stable ground, settling your bare feet in the dry grass.
โMy princess, are you alright?โ Riley asked, concern laced in his tone, as his eyes darted over your wet frame, gown dripping with water, to find any injuries.
You nodded your head through chattering teeth and wet clumped lashes, โYeah, yeah, Iโm okay, just cold.โ
Riley removed his cloak at your response, placing it on your shoulders before typing it off around your neck, smoothing his large palms over the fabric to emit warmth.
โOh, sheโs okay; Itโs just some water,โ The Duke sneered from behind Riley.
You watched the edges of Rileyโs irises shift hard, steel-like, turning to snap at the Duke, seething, โIโd choose my words very wisely if I was you.โ
The Duke didnโt have more to say, trotted behind on his horse as Riley escorted you back to the castle. Ushered you inside your private quarters quickly, gesturing for the other three knights to join him, murmured to you that they had business to take care of before disappearing down the grand hall.
That night when you were summoned for dinner, you were surprised by the absence of the Duke, but when you pressed the maids all they shared was that the he left with swollen cheeks and blackened eyes without an explanation to your father. And when you met your knightโs eyes across the room, you couldnโt help but smile.
dividers made by @/olenvasynyt! I will also be reblogging the post if you guys want to support as well!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
โ Live Streamingโ Interactive Chatโ Private Showsโ HD Qualityโ Free Actions
Free to watch โข No registration required โข HD streaming
prev | blurb directly inspired by this ask to add context! | cw: oral sex, little bit of spiteful, enemy, cocky vibe
The roles are reversed this time, your grip seized tightly around Kyleโs wrist, dragging him along behind you as anger unravels out of your control.
You donโt need to glance back to know the shit-eating smirk he wears on his face. You can tell by the way he takes long strides behind you, not even struggling to match your pace as if your steps are too short and insignificant for him to care.
โWhere ya takinโ me?โ He asks edges of his words curled tauntingly, like the two of you are playing some sort of game, โGyms the other way.โ
You know that, obviously.
He knows that, obviously.
His stupid voice only makes you more irritated, each syllable dragging a dagger against your skin. You shove him hastily into the first dark closet you find, slamming him against the wall with full force, hope it fucking hurt. Youโre determined at this point, fists clenched, and teeth bared, threatening your prey with fangs and claws.
โMy turn to make you cum now, okay?โ
It doesnโt even take him by surprise, the fucker just chuckles, pleased. โWell, letโs have at it.โ
You unbuckle his cargos with a little more vigor than intended, but heโs perched himself against the wall, crossing his arms behind his head like heโs getting comfortable, waiting for you to drop to your knees and suck him off.
It drives you mad, makes you furious, rage pulsing behind your eyelids, so you toss your phone on a spare shelf, pulling up a timer.
He scoffs in disbelief. โReally, youโre gonโ time it?โ
You yank his pants to his thighs, hovering your fingers over the band of his boxers, โYou made me count, so now we see how long you can last.โ
โGood luck with that.โ He mutters, indignantly, as if his little game was suddenly ruined.
You fall to your knees unceremoniously, donโt plan to be pretty about the whole ordeal because he doesnโt deserve that. You tuck your fingers confidently into his underwear, tugging them low in one swift motion. An action that makes Kyle inhale a sharp breath through his teeth unexpectedly.
When his cock springs free itโs your turn to snicker, โDoesnโt look like itโll be too difficult.โ
He stands tall, eager, longer than you had imagined him to be. It makes you a little apprehensive, fidgeting on your knees at the sight because youโre not entirely sure you can fit all of that in your mouth, but you mask it the best you can. Youโd rather die than let Kyle Garrick know heโs got a big dick.
You donโt necessarily have room to be nervous when Kyle is clearly painfully aroused, darkened tip smeared with a small bead of precum. Your apprehension outweighs his arousal, his smug attitude means absolutely nothing when his cock is leaking and desperate and you havenโt even touched it yet, entirely too excited with your sharp words and combative attitude.
Kyle doesnโt respond to your smart remark, doesnโt have the strength to when your palm engulfs his shaft. You donโt intend to take your time, be gentle in any way because youโre trying to prove a point, so as soon as you start the timer your mouth is on him.
You keep your eyes on his, want to watch the exact moment his smug face crumbles, the minute his ego diminishes into weakness and succumbs.
One broad swipe of your tongue, base to fattened tip, is all it takes.
His eyes flutter for a split second, lips parting to take a deep breath before he conceals it, eyes hardening once again like he wasnโt affected, but you know him better than that, can read him better than he likes to think.
Thatโs fine, as soon as you wrap your lips around his head his brows crease, jaw tensing, grinding his molars together when you slide lower and lower, taking him inch by inch. You barely get halfway before heโs in your throat, the sensation making you gag reflexively around him.
โThaโ all you can take?โ He snides, tilting his head, โCome on, doll. You can do better than thaโ.โ
You glare up at him, slightly regretting your situation. You canโt really snarl back when youโve got a mouth full of his cock. You wish you could tell him to watch his own mouth, youโre not afraid to use your teeth on his precious cock, put him in his place with a few nips. So, you do the next best thing, swallow him down to the hilt, nose pressed to his curly pubes, and suck.
It makes him kilt over, hands flying instinctively to cup your jaw. He curses under his breath, tries to be quiet about it, but you hear it, deep and drawn out.
You build a rhythm, bobbing your head over his length again and again, swirling your tongue around his shaft with each motion. His swollen head kisses the back of your throat with each bob, it stings, each prod burning an uncomfortable stretch that makes tears well in your lashes.
You try your best not to choke or cough around his thick cock. You donโt want to inflate his ego any more than it is, donโt want to give him the satisfaction of watching fat tears roll down your cheeks. Except when you do look up at him, heโs got his lips parted in a strained moan, the whites of his eyes rolling as you make eye contact.
โShit, donโt look at me like thaโ.โ He groans, voice ragged and pinched like it does something to him to see you making a mess of yourself, saliva dripping down your chin.
So, you do the complete opposite, gazing with hooded lids as you slap his cock against the smooth of your tongue. His head knocks against the wall at that, fingers digging shallow indents into your jaw as his balls tighten.
Thatโs all the sign you need to suction the head into your mouth, fisting his shaft with calculated strokes in tandem. He tries to push you off in response, weakly shoving your head away, but your willpower is a little stronger than his at the moment.
A string of incoherent words slips from his lips, hips involuntarily thrusting into the wet confines of your mouth, seeking out the mind-numbing sensation. He barely gives you any warning before heโs sinking to the hilt in one go, balls smacked against your chin as he lets out a guttural groan.
You swallow it all, licking the salty taste clean from his head as he jerks in overstimulation until he slips from your lips with a wet pop.
โDidnโt even last 5 minutes Garrick?โ You mock.
The sight above you makes you chuckle, pride beating your chest because heโs completely spent, eyes lidded and glazed over like his soul hasnโt quite returned to his body.
pt. 2 to this blurb | pt. 3 | filthy fingering, a little bit of spiteful smut, overstimulation
Your feet stumble behind Kyleโs, scuffing your combat boots on the white tiled floor in your messy trek. Heโs got a tight grip on your wrist, pulling you along with a speed you canโt quite match.
โKyle, what the fuck are youโโ You start, exasperated, but you come to a startled halt, crashing into his back as he fights with the door handle in front of him.
Youโre shoved into the room as soon as he gets the door open, turning to look at him with a scowl, but you donโt get to express your dismay for long when he pushes you on his bed. The springs squeak under you, masked by the surprised gasp you make.
โKyle. What the fuck.โ You say through your teeth, glaring up at him from your seated position.
Heโs quiet, lips pressed into a thin line, teeth clenched behind his cheeks, jaw tense. His eyes are just as rigid, hammering you to the thin military standard blanket, offering little room to test his patience. Itโs the exact look he wears on the field, dark and dangerous, hooded and intended.
When he speaks itโs the same honey cadence as always, but itโs steady, low. Makes a string of goosebumps spread down your back. It juxtaposes your usual banter, meant to annoy each other, friendly fire, snake baby claws and teased nips under each otherโs skin. Except now nothing about his demeanor is friendly.
โGonโ make you cum jusโto prove a point now, okay?โ
You cackle, loud and obnoxious, gripping your stomach in dramatics, โThatโs what this is about? Did I hurt poor Kyleโs ego?โ
โAre ya backinโ down from a challenge? Too scared to be wrong?โ He smirks, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
You scoff, rolling your eyes, dismissing his words with a wave of your hand, โYou couldnโt even get me wet.โ
โLetโs see, then.โ
Your mouth falls open, staring at him in utter shock. โKyle, you canโt be serious.โ
He just looks at you expectantly.
You pause, gulping the excess saliva building in your cheeks, wiping your clammy hands on your knees because heโs dead serious.
โGod, what a typical man. You canโt live with the fact that every girl youโve been with probably faked her orgasm?โ You taunt, only egging him on more, but youโre hoping heโll shove you right back out his bedroom door in retaliation, โDo you even know where the clit is?โ
โOnly one way to find out.โ He replies, arching his brow.
You bite your tongue, let the silence consume the room, suffocate the both of you back to reality, but it does nothing to shift his mood. A man determined, decided the moment you let your smart mouth run too far out of your control.
So you give in, making quick work of your boots because you donโt want him to gain any more ego-driven pride. Your pants follow, dropped to the floor tentatively, squeezing your thighs together in a weak attempt to cling to the last thread of your dignity.
Your eyes follow him to his knees. You think he might pry your thighs open, check if thereโs a wet patch on your panties, because you know there is, but he leans forward just enough to hover close to your mouth and dips two fingers into the seams.
โWant you to count โem,โ He breathes against your lips.
โLucky if you can even get one.โ You say, trying your best to keep your voice stable, but it wavers, embarrassingly so.
He huffs a laugh, โDโya ever shut up?โ
โTry and make me.โ
The look in his irises glimmers mischievously, but he doesnโt say anything else, just holds your gaze as he slips your underwear over your legs. You exhale a shaky breath when scorching palms part your knees, eyes steady on yours as he rubs his hands to the inside of your thighs.
His stare makes the air feel thick, a heavy weight smothering your chest, and fills your lungs shallowly. Makes the few seconds seem like an eternity too long.
When he does finally drop his gaze, his eyes pool dark, irises dilating at the sight of your bare cunt. You tilt your own head to the ceiling, squeezing your eyes shut because you canโt muster the strength to watch him examine your pussy. So, you fall back on your palms unexpectedly when he hoists one of your legs over his shoulder.
You know youโre pent up, donโt necessarily get much action in your line of work, but the noise of your arousal squelching loudly in the room when he slides two fingers between your folds stings embarrassment down your chest and behind your eyelids.
โThought I couldnโt get ya wet, love?โ He drawls.
God, you didnโt know you were that wet. Hadnโt even been touched yet, not even a kiss, and your traitorous pussy is leaking for any attention.
You do know that it only makes him entirely too smug. Even more so when one finger slides in with no resistance despite how thick it is, practically suctioning him in for more. But he works you up to it, takes his time dragging against your eager walls until your fingers fist the blanket under you.
You have to roll your tongue over your teeth to stop yourself from moaning when a second finger joins the first. Theyโre bigger, thicker, longer, fucking better than yours, scratch a delicious ache against your gummy pussy that makes your head slump forward, each thrust finding a spot your slender fingers canโt quite reach.
The pleasure goops over you, tacky and thick, melting the molten lava in your core into your bare flesh. It takes every inch of your control to remember that youโre supposed to fight your impending orgasm, pretend that youโre not clinging to desperate straws to deprive Kyle of your own pleasure.
It almost hurts. Your body wants it so badly, havenโt had something warm, something real stretching your walls in so long that it wages a war between your willpower and your animalistic innate desires. And Kyle knows that, of course he does because heโs Kyle fucking Garrick.
โFight it all you want,โ He says, curling his fingers against the exact spot that makes a pinched whine escape the tight confines of your lips for the first time the whole night, โOnly denyinโ yourself of the inevitable.โ
โFuck. You.โ You grit, โNot evenโ mmh! close.โ
He laughs, โDidnโt your folks teach you โtโs bad to lie?โ
You open your mouth to respond, snarl at him not to talk about your family when heโs got his fingers buried in your cunt, but he presses against that sweet gooey spot again and all you can manage is a pathetic mewl.
And then his deft fingers turn brutal, unrelenting, bullying that spot until youโre snapping your head forward, eyes flying to his.
He tilts his head, smug grin on his stupid lips, โWhatโs tโmatter? Cat got your tongue?โ
You want to yell at him to shut up, go to fucking hell, anything, but it takes all your energy to focus on not finishing, have to bite the inside of your cheek until you taste metallic blood. Even still your arms are slowly dipping lower onto the bed, brows pinched, face squished in agony because youโre too stubborn to give in that easily.
Your nails are probably ripping the seams of his blanket, but youโre holding on to them for dear life as if theyโre the last thread connecting you to your diminishing self-control. Like tearing his mattress to shreds will stop your hips from bucking into his palm.
It doesnโt of course.
He hums, approvingly, satisfied like he already won long ago. He did, youโll just fight tooth and nail, fangs and claws, to prolong his pleasure for as long as you can manage.
โThaโs more like it.โ He purrs, โCanโt hold it much longer, can you?โ
โShuddup,โ You slur, grounding your hips stiffly so they stop betraying you.
Suddenly, his face is next to yours, leg unceremoniously falling to his hip, โGonna cum fโme? Huh?โ
You shake your head weakly, but tears are welling in your lashes at the sheer force youโre trying to drench the unyielding fire thrashing under your skin cold and dry.
โHate you.โ You croak, staring at him with dewy-eyes and heavy lids.
โWouldnโt โave my fingers in your pretty cunt if thaโ was true, would I?โ He lilts, and a part of you knows itโs true, but it only makes you want to hate him even more. โWe both know I won, love, jusโ let go.โ
You bare your teeth at him in a growl; you know heโs just trying to convince you to finish, to succumb and let him win, but it works. Itโs not like you had much control anyways.
Your body seizes, falling back on to the mattress as you arch your back, jaw going slack. A broken noise leaves your chest as you tremor with every pulse of the searing pleasure. It seeps throughout your body, blinding and uncontained, makes your legs shake as you struggle to breathe.
โThereโs a girl,โ Kyle praises when you mutter a weak โone.โ
His fingers slow just a bit, allow you time to come down from your high. Your hips convulse involuntarily, swollen walls fluttering frantically around the girth. Your eyes are hazy, look at him a little dazed, like you hadnโt expected to finish that intensely.
You think itโs done, prepare to hear his boastful bragging you donโt really care about because youโre entirely too blissed out to care about anything, really. But the bastard seems to have other plans.
Three fingers swipe against your clit, and your muscles tense, stomach tighten at the sensation.
Your hand flies to his wrist, โKyle, no, no I canโt.โ
โI won,โ He says plainly, pinning your hand down, โIโm taking my prize.โ
And he doesnโt stop until thereโs an obscene amount of your cum gathered in his palm, a sopping filthy mess. Sobbing into the sheets with pure overstimulation, malleable and pliant, crying his name orgasm after orgasm.
Kyle Garrick is competitive, a know it all, and a bloody sore loser.
When you join the team suddenly everything turns into a competition. Chugging a beer, clearing a building, lifting weights, sparring, Priceโs attentionโ anything and everything under the sun.
The two of you drive each other up the wall, sneering into each otherโs face with bared teeth and upturned noses. Until the day Simon pinches his temples watching the two of you argue over a game of dominoes.
โWonโt you two muppets fuck anโ get it over with already?โ
You laugh, real deep from your core, โLike he could make me cum.โ
Cue Kyle dragging you to the nearest spare room to show you how many times he can make you finish with his fingers alone.
a/n: i genuinely love writing this man, because heโs just so perfect and adorable like marry me ๐
Husband!Gaz makes you coffee every morning, he specifically learned your dunkin (dunkin ppl rise up๐โ) order, just so you could have it every morning.
Husband!Gaz You guys have a weekly movie night, where youโll buy a ton of snacks, and watch Rom-Coms together
Husband!Gaz makes sure your car is never dirty or out of gas. After you two got married, you actually forgot how to pump gas because you never have to.
Husband!Gaz gives the best back massages. If he sees that your tense or have a knot somewhere, he will take the time to sit down with you and get rid of it.
Husband!Gaz is your D1 hype man. If you have a girls night, heโs telling you how sexy you look and how lucky he is to have you.
Husband!Gaz will sit in stores for however long it takes you. He LOVES when you give him little fashion shows, and he gives honest advice on pieces.
Husband!Gaz has no problem im holding your purse, he actually takes pride in it. To him, itโs an honor.
Husband!Gaz needs you to help shave his facial hair because heโs afraid heโll cut himself. So you do it.
Husband!Gaz doesnt think he can cook, whatsoever. So he has you cook, and he cleans. Itโs your guys little split in the marriage.
Husband!Gaz has this thing where if heโs on base for too long, heโll call you and stay on the phone with you all day. He lowkey has attachment issues so just knowing if he wanted to hear your sweet voice, he could.
a/n: Hope you enjoyed!! More will be posted later today, i just have some stuff to do. Whats your favorite place to get coffee from? Mines dunkin๐
pathetic konig who is so obsessed with you that he just cant stop fucking you (in a chokehold, creampie AND overstimulation) ? ๐
this is delicious i hope i managed to deliver everything hehe ;)
content: SMUT MDNI, creampie, overstimulation, idk its just dirty lol
Boyfriend Kรถnig who just loves you soooo much that he can't help but overstimulate you both when he fucks you :((
He's got you face down on the bed, his whole damn body weight pressing you into the mattress as he bullies his fat cock in and out of your cunt. There's a creamy ring around the base thanks to how many times you've both already come, the slick noises almost obscene.
"Schatzโฆ you feel so goodโฆ" he slurs the words into your ear, completely drunk on the sex and on you. He shifts slightly, one hand sliding underneath you to angle your hips up, allowing him to fuck you deeper. His other arm loops around your neck, his meaty muscles almost choking you as he pulls your face out of the pillow you'd buried it in. Kรถnig whimpers when your sweet noises fill the room again, his hips stuttering in their rhythm.
Somehow, you're on the edge of yet another orgasm, your body worked up into a goddamn frenzy. "Kรถnig! Too much," you gasp, your body tensing up beneath him. He growls, feeling the way you clench even tighter around his sensitive dick, sucking him in. He's so addicted to you, so obsessed with the feeling of you. His thrusts speed up again, his hips hitting your ass with each punishing movement that pushes you closer and closer to your high. You finally come with a high pitched mewl, followed by a broken sob. Your body twitches, your cunt pulsing wildly, every nerve in your body overwhelmed.
The sensation makes Kรถnig almost fucking blackout. You feel so good that he can't stop himself from fucking into you faster as he feels his own release nearing. "Ah, maus," he whines, biting at your neck as he lets go. His whole body shudders as he floods you with what seems like an endless supply of his seed, his cock twitching inside you until it's empty. You feel his body grow limp, crushing you beneath a solid wall of muscle. Even now, with both of you exhausted and overstimulated, his hips are still moving in slow grinds that have you whimpering beneath him.
Once his vision and mind clears somewhat, he pushes himself up and reluctantly pulls out with a hiss. His dick feels raw - it's been milked dry by you, by his insatiable need for you. Kรถnig watches hungrily as a smear of your combined juices slides from your puffy, well used hole and drips down your thigh.
That sight alone is enough to make him want to go again, even if neither of your bodies can take itโฆ
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saw the delicious 141 nibble/chewing ask, and wanted to ask if you'd possibly do an expanded version with the other characters you'd like to write for !
Notes: OH YEAHHHH, also, consent is sexy and very much existing here, okay, I couldn't come up with anything for Keegan or Roach, so extensive research will be done very soon everyone, not a drill
Laswell: (my absolute freakin goat, I love this woman) She's unphased by you at this point, because, literally, you're her pretty little wife!! You have your needs and if your needs are to bite and suck on her wherever you could reach she's happy with that!!
She has you sat between her thighs as she works on some paperwork, you nip at her thighs, sucking and flattening your tongue over the bites just to be good still
Valeria: You're not allowed to bite without permission, that was quickly announced to you, and shown to you, everytime you do bite without asking she ends up fucking you silly with her strap until you can't walk :(
But when you do get permission it's usually just her speaking during meetings with her men while you sit on her lap marking up her neck and shoulders happily
Kรถnig: Bro is beefcake, he doesn't mind nor feel it, usually he just lets you go at it, he just sits there cleaning his sniper while you happily bite his biceps because lord knows they're massive
All of him is massive, you bite on his man boobs, of course, (because me too) You do have to repay him by sucking dick (sad) but you're happy as long as you get your human stress toy
youโre a child of divorce except itโs for your sugar!parents, valeria & alejandro.
you were their little princessa, always being spoilt. valeria was obsessively controlling, keeping you in her bed, soft in moisturiser and silk, rolling in jewels. she was tempted to get you a fat, heavy collar too, if it werenโt for alejandro.
instead of listening to his woman, he wanted to take you out. let you travel the world, go shopping wherever you wanted, and know that it was because of his money.
valeria didnโt like that one bit, and the cracks in your arrangement started to show.
most obviously in the sex.
what was once absolute pampering for you (who can get you to cum first, who can get you to cum the most, etc., etc.) has now turned into hate sex, and youโre stuck in the middle.
theyโre growling and spitting at each other in a spanish that makes it impossible for you to keep up โ not that youโre entirely there in the first place.
with alejandro underneath you, rutting into your ass with your back collapsed on his chest, your body was already jelly. but pair that with valeria slamming into your panocha with your favourite strap? you honestly couldnโt care less about what they were arguing about through you, not with the way you could feel the two lengths sliding against each other through the thin internal wall.
you do, however, care when you wake up chained to a silky bed in a foreign place, valeria grinning like a cheshire cat when she murmurs, โhe wonโt be bothering us anymore, princessa.โ
mhmmm i canโt stop thinking about simon riley with his pregnant!partner๐ตโ๐ซ
heโs always on his knees โ whether itโs to give you foot rubs, shave your kitty, or eat you out.
if heโs lucky, he gets to do all three in one day.
โcโmon, lovie, sit down fโmeโthere we go.โ he gets off on seeing you blissed out and relaxed by his precise kneading and rubbing, biting back his own groans at yours.
next, heโll be helping you shower, of course.
โwhatโf you fall? that wonโt happen if iโm in here with ya, hey? oh, and you need help, donโt youโฆโ heโs on his knees again in two seconds, gently lathering up your mound in soap before he carefully runs the razor. you groan as he uses one of his hands to lift your swollen belly up for better access โ taking some of the weight off your lower back.
and oh, he has to keep going when he hears those noises and has your bald pussy staring right back at him. and itโs good to keep the vagina nice and loose for birth, right?
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a dark!a/b/o universe where omegas are kept mostly in breeding/selling facilities for alphas.
they donโt even see the light of day โ every omega is kept underground.
so how does one get bought, you say?
candles.
goddamn candles.
each facility will get the scent of their omegas to make candles as a โselling pointโ for each one, in order to keep them as โpureโ as possible. the only time these omegas interact with an alpha is when theyโve finally been bought.
a cruel design to send them into heat as soon as they come within the scent field of the alpha whoโs just bought them.
so, of course, ghost goes down to these facilities quite frequently to scent the candles, waiting until he finds one that makes his eyes roll back. the workers always know what heโs there for, and point him to the new batches.
new omegas.
itโs been happening for months now, so he was expecting just another trip of subpar scents before going homeโ
until he smells your scent.
he freezes, reading the description on the candle, before thrusting it into the workerโs hand.
โget โem,โ he grunts, pawing at his mask that now felt incredibly suffocating and hot on his face and neck.
poor you has no idea what youโre in for.
and yes, simon absolutely lights the candle while heโs pounding into you every which way, both of you deep into your respective ruts/heats๐โโ๏ธ
AN: i feel like ghost is one of those alphas whoโs so obsessed w you he gets a rash if heโs not in you. send tweet
craving milk, so he unbuckles his pants and pulls out his cock in front of her face. She hungrily laps at the precum dripping from his tip. Her tongue licks up and down his length but returns to sucking the head. She keeps swirling it roughly under and all around the surface. His body tenses and jerks in overstimulation, clutching his fists tight to hold still. As she purrs, the vibrations travel down his dick. Eventually, she starts pawing at his balls too.
Simon canโt handle the stimulation, and he comes with a loud groan, hand firmly but carefully grasping her head. As his dick shoots spurt after spurt, she swallows around it, milking even more from his already heavy load.
vs
Big, scary Simon Riley being desperately submissive to his tinier wife needing her to spray him to mark her territory. He begs her to sit on his face, then heโll pull her weight all the way down. He eats pussy like a man parched and starving. He makes her cum over and over. Squirming, she canโt hold it anymore, so he slips his fingers inside and crooks them in rough, quick thrusts till sheโs showering him in golden liquid. The second she practically falls off, sheโs met with the grin of a drenched but sated man. Crazy bastard has a twinkle in his eyes as he licks his lips to get some more of the taste.
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