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these are my call of duty masterlists:
main fics and oneshots
rugby!simon
this is my akotsk masterlist
this is my bullseye masterlist
this is my dr. abbot (the pitt) fic.
—✿ get familiar with both me and my request rules below the cut. thanks for stopping by :)
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—✿ about me and my blog
i’m in my twenties, i’m a uni student, and i also work outside of writing — so please keep these in mind !!
i do not have an upload schedule, and i am incredibly inconsistent with what and when i write.
i will straight up block you if you’re a minor or an ageless blog and you interact with my work.
i love to write for ghost, gaz and price of call of duty
i love to write for a knight of the seven kingdoms
i love rugby, so you will often catch me yapping on about that.
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send me a request by using the salute your captain button — but please ensure you read my rules before making a request.
i’m here to be a whore for these fictional men, so i mainly write smut. but i could write fluff if you catch me outside my usual sluttivities.
for cod, i prefer writing for price, gaz, and ghost. i can write for graves and keegan if you ask nicely. i don’t have a huge interest in soap tbh, so it’s a very weak maybe for him lol.
for akotsk, i’m getting freaky with everyone i’m gonna be totally honest (baelor, maekar, daeron, aerion 😔, valarr, dunk, and lyonel). why are they all so sexy it’s almost annoying.
i do not write angst, noncon, ageplay or anything of the sort, piss or scat, heavy degradation, heavy dom/sub dynamics.
i usually write for female, or fem readers. i can write for gender neutral readers too.
i do not use y/n.
i take requests when i can, and write what i want. if i don’t want to write something, i won’t, but i appreciate your support.
—✿ my navigation tags
#captainfern - anything i post
#captainfernsalutes - answers to requests, asks and messages
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#you guys are so nice to me omg - responses to lovely messages and lovely people <3
(cod sidenote: i no longer use the music-themed tags i previously created. please see my masterlists for the fics instead !!)
Gurlll your catch me if you can dex fanfic was simply one of the hottest thing I have ever read, I need you to give me a million more of just unhinged smutty dex fanfics. PLEASEEEE!
say less baby (read also: catch me if you can)
Angel
Benjamin 'Bullseye' Poindexter x fem!reader
✿ you manage to lose dex in a game of cat-and-mouse, but he doesn't give up that easily.
✿ 18+
✿ wc: 4k
✿ cw: fem!reader, DDBA!dex, established relationship, predator-prey, bullseye-typical violence (he kills someone), SMUT, straight porn hardly plot, prone-bone, outdoor sex, unprotected piv, knife play, improper use of a knife (hint: it goes inside you—and it’s not the blade), mentions of anal, praise!!, minor degradation, pet names (angel, baby, etc), pussy pronouns, dirty talk, possessive (obsessive) dex, strong language, british english author does her best with american english :(
inspired by the song 'angel' by massive attack
There is a physical pain deep in his chest. An ache, a festering bruise beneath the bone of his sternum as he stands in the middle of the street, his fists balled at his sides.
He doesn’t know how you’ve done it, but you’ve managed to lose him. You’ve managed to slip into the shadows and disappear, and he can’t find you.
It feels partly like a failure. When he turned onto the street he was sure you’d be running down, you weren’t there, and it was like a punch to the chest. You’re gone, and now his heart hammers wildly against his ribs as he sucks in a calming breath. His mind is running a million miles an hour, but he can’t help the small smile that graces his lips beneath his mask. You’ve escaped him. Perhaps he should give himself credit, considering he’s the one who taught you these tactical evasion skills.
When the humming in his brain eases—your face now at the forefront of his mind—he stretches out his arms, pops the tension from his elbows and shoulders, then saunters up the street. Your apartment is up ahead, but he knows you wouldn’t be dumb enough to hide from him there. You’re a smart girl.
Dex pauses outside your building, eyes scanning the dark alleyway to the left, then the line of shrubbery to the right.
“What’s with the mask?”
Dex slowly turns his head, finding a man staggering out of the alley. He leans against the brickwork, face pale and almost ghostly in the overhead street light. He gestures to Dex with a dirty hand, fingers strangling the neck of a nondescript liquor bottle as he hiccups out his sentence. Dex cocks his head as the man flips the jagged cap from the bottle with his thumb, and Dex watches it hit the sidewalk and roll towards him. It settles by his feet as the man takes a noisy swig.
“Oh, are you one of those vigilantes Fisk’s always jerking off over?” The man slurs, and Dex would’ve smiled beneath the mask, humoured, if he didn’t have more pressing matters. The man shakes his head, looking at Dex. “If you’re looking for someone, I saw a pretty broad take the fire escape up this building.”
Now Dex smiles to himself. Smart girl.
He bends and plucks the bottle cap from the ground, running his thumb across the rugged edge of the tin-plated steel. He takes a step forward, rolling the cap between his fingers, his shoulders hulking as he moves, but he doesn’t get far before the man is slurring out again, leaning against the brick wall for support.
“Runnin’ ‘round in a tight fuckin’ skirt, too. Fuck,” the man says, and Dex freezes.
He’s bathed in shadow now, the man a few paces behind him. The fire escape is just a few yards ahead of him and he could almost smell the lingering trail of your perfume. But he doesn’t move. He can’t move. The man’s words clatter around his skull like a ricocheting bullet, and a wasp-like humming returns to his brain. Slowly, he turns, and the man laughs all wet and sickly.
“I mean, if you’re not after her,” the man slurs, gesturing to the fire escape. “I s’pose I could follow—”
Dex whips his arm back and forth so fast that the action is dissolved by shadow. He throws the bottle cap with such force it whistles through the air, then slices straight between the drunken man’s eyes in a spray of blood. The man’s head snaps back, head cracking against the brick wall, before he slumps and hits the ground. The bottle clatters to the ground and rolls from his lax fingers, spinning out onto the pavement with a trail of beer following.
Dex huffs, then turns and heads straight for the fire escape, leaving the man dead in the mouth of the alley, a bottle cap embedded so deep in the front of his skull Dex was sure it had disappeared into his brain. He’d be disappointed if it hadn’t.
He takes the stairs three at a time, careful to tread carefully. The metal doesn’t creak despite his muscled weight, and he creeps towards the roof like a prowling cat. He passes dark windows, knowing you wouldn’t take the chance. He knows you’ll be hiding somewhere on the roof. His angel is smart, but she won’t have flown far.
Silently, he clambers onto the roof. City lights glitter around him, but the shadows are thick here. Boxy electrical units and crumbling chimneys make for some kinds of hiding spots, but he knows you better than that. Knows you would’ve hidden yourself away in the furthest, darkest corner with a victorious smile on your face.
He stalks across the roof slowly, humming quietly to himself. He unsheaths one of his knives and twirls it through his fingers as he rounds a stack of electricity boxes and finds you hunkered in the corner, eyes scanning the city street below. You don’t turn, and that makes Dex chuckle—the sound you finally hear, whipping around to find your boyfriend staring right at you.
“Dex!” You yelp, and you make a movement to the side as if you were going to take off running.
But Dex doesn’t let you. He throws his knife and it slices through the air mere inches in front of your face, forcing you to throw yourself back as it lodges into the brickwork behind you. And that’s when Dex lunges forward: wrapping his arms around your waist and forcing you down onto the cool floor, hands and knees finding dried leaves and crumbling mortar.
You wriggle desperately, trying to drag yourself out of his grasp. But he pins you to the ground, chest tight against your back, his pelvis heavy on the swell of your arse. Whining, you reach a hand back in a poor attempt to push him away. But he grabs your wrist and pins your arm to your side, making you squeal.
A muscled arm curls around your neck, a gloved hand pressing firm to your mouth and muffling your noise. You cry out again as he presses you deeper against the floor, masked face coming to rest right beside your ear.
“Trying to run, angel?” He coos, releasing your arm so he could anchor himself over you. He leans on his forearm, his bicep straining beneath the material of his navy suit. “You were so close, weren’t you?”
You whine against his hand, and he chuckles in your ear, knowing he was asking you questions you couldn’t answer. You continue writhing beneath him, but that just morphs his chuckles into groans as he ruts his hips against your arse. The thick, muscled mass of his stomach and chest is warm against your back, and you find yourself growing hot beneath your clothes, your pussy fluttering tight under the cotton of your underwear.
“Thought you had a chance, didn’t you?” Dex utters, rubbing his face against the side of yours. You close your eyes and whimper, feeling him inhale beneath his mask, the heat of his mouth under the material like a burning brand at the curve of your jaw. He hums, fingers squeezing your cheek. “That’s a bit dumb, baby. You could’ve made it to the Catskills and I still would’ve found you.”
He grinds himself against your arse and you moan into his palm. You feel the hard lines of him rutting against you, cool air on the backs of your thighs as your skirt rides up, up, and over the curve of your backside. You moan again as he gives another heavy jerk against you, the tight fabric of your skirt rolling up even further, exposing the flimsy cotton of your underwear.
Dex groans in your ear, his entire body shuddering above you. “Oh, my sweet girl, m’gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”
You blink lazily, looking around the roof. It’s dark and empty, and you can hear the bustling streets of New York echoing in the air around you. The seclusion of it all has you moaning into his palm again, the print of his hard cock heavy against you.
The palm on your mouth presses tighter and the backs of your lips press hard against your teeth. You whimper, heart leaping into your throat, as Dex grumbles low in your ear, “M’gonna take my hand away. You’re gonna be a good girl, and you’re gonna be quiet, yeah?”
You nod desperately, clit aching as he gently grinds himself against you. The roof of your building is bitingly cold and way too hard against your chest and stomach, but you don’t care—you take it like he wants you to, laying still while he removes his hand from your mouth and gives you a firm pat on the cheek. You feel your entire body heat up, a sticky warmth quick to pool in your belly as his hand drags down your side and finds the clasp of his belt. You hear it clink, and the sound has you fighting off a moan, your teeth sinking into your lip to trap the sound in your throat.
Dex chuckles as he sits up a little, still pressing you into the ground, but enough for him to unbuckle the belt of his suit and undo the zip. “Bet you’re fuckin’ soaked, huh, baby? Pussy makin’ a mess of these pretty panties?”
His hand leaves his belt as he speaks. With the mass of his thighs, he nudges your legs apart. You can’t help the quiet mewl that leaves you as cool air hits the gusset of your underwear, and you know how wet you are based on the bite of the breeze against your puffy clit. You wriggle, but his other hand pins you down.
You hear another clinking sound, before you feel something firm against your covered folds. It’s heavy and almost metallic in nature, and you suck in a gasp when you realise it’s the hilt of one of his knives. You freeze, body alight with heat, and Dex chuckles, pressing the base of his knife against you and parting your folds beneath the wet cotton.
“Y’think she’ll take this like she takes my cock?” He utters, dragging the base of his knife’s handle up your folds before pressing it to your hole. Your pussy flutters, drooling out as you whimper, pressing your cheek to the cement to ground yourself. He chuckles again, before drawing the knife’s grip up even more until it rests against your arsehole. “And what about her? I could stretch her out nice and good if you ask me nicely, angel.”
You squirm beneath him, a moan lifting from your throat before you could stop it. It’s soft, not too loud, but it makes Dex tut anyway. Quickly, he sits back and takes your underwear between his fingers, pulling it away from your slick folds so he could slice through the material with the blade of his knife. The fabric snaps away from you, and you find yourself moaning again as the cool night air kisses up against your cunt.
Then, his knife is back on your pussy—without the barrier this time, spreading your folds and tracing a series of heavy lines up and down your slit. You whimper when the end nudges your clit, then circles it like he would with his finger, before pressing down with just enough pressure to make you arch against him. You whisper his name, and he groans in response, sliding the knife back down and tapping it against your hole.
“So wet,” Dex marvels and he watches as he slowly brings his knife an inch or so away from your cunt. A string of slick webs between you, and it makes his cock twitch in his briefs. He grunts, pushing the handle back against your hole and this time, letting it sink in even further. It breaches inwards, and you suck him in so well that another groan rips from his chest. It’s primal, his eyes flashing as he pants behind his mask. “Yeah, fuckin’ hell, baby. She’s gonna take it like my cock.”
You breathe around a moan as he sinks the knife in deeper. Pressure forms deep in your pelvis, a heat festering in your belly as your pussy contracts around the intrusion but lets him in anyway. Something prickles down your spine as you realise you’re drooling around the hilt, slick dribbling as he pushes in, then brings it out by an inch or two, then pushes back in again.
“Dex,” you whimper, body shaking. The knot in your pelvis tightens when he bottoms the knife out inside you, hole dangerously close to the blade. But you trust him—you trust him with your life as his gloved hand clutches the blade, eyes watching your pussy take it. You whimper again when you realise he isn’t moving. “Dex, baby—”
“No,” he hisses out simply, pulling the handle out.
It leaves you completely, and you mewl, arching in an attempt to chase it. Dex grunts, smacking the base of the handle against your cunt, making you sob out and collapse forward. He pushes back in then, eyes darting from where he splits your pussy open to where you whimper into the crook of your arm.
“You thought you could get away from me. You thought you could hide,” Dex says, and they’re more statements than rhetorical questions. He fucks the handle of his knife into you again and again, your cunt glistening wet and loud where he drags it in and out of you. He holds you against the ground as he continues. “I had to kill a man to get to you, baby. What if he had found you first, huh? What if you did lose me?”
Your entire body stiffens, eyes shooting open. You try to look over your shoulder at him, but Dex knows exactly where to aim, thrusting the base of the handle right up against that gummy spot inside you that has you collapsing back onto the ground.
You whimper around a poorly formed Dex!, before you finally manage to spit some of your sentence out: “What did you—?”
“I took care of it,” Dex growls, his arm speeding up as he rucks the knife into you again and again. His cock is painfully hard in his briefs, but he holds off, watching the way your pussy drools around his knife, your entire body shaking as he hits that perfect spot every single time. He nods to himself, mind flitting briefly to the man slumped dead in the alley. “I took care of it, angel. I took care of you.”
A sick thrill runs through you. You should be scared, but you aren’t. “Dex…”
“I did, I did,” Dex breathes out, slightly muffled behind his mask. “I did, baby. I’ll always take care of you.”
Your body is on fire. The pressure in your pelvis, the heat in your belly, swells inside you. You shake against the ground, the hard, metallic handle of his knife hitting your g-spot each time and it’s leaving you dizzy with your approaching orgasm. You can almost taste it building in the back of your throat, and all you can manage to squeak out is a meek oh, Dex! before the heat ignites and you’re coming around the knife.
Dex groans. “There she goes, that’s it, good girl.”
He fucks you through it with deep, rolling thrusts of his arm. The muscles contract beneath the tight sleeve as he moves, and his eyes never leave the way your cunt clenches around it, slick glistening against the handle. You shudder one last time, hips twitching, before you still as the fire of your orgasm reduces to smoke, and you lie pliant against the cool floor.
Slowly, Dex pulls the knife from you. You whimper, feeling your pussy flutter around nothing while Dex slides the knife back into his belt without even wiping it down. Eyelids fluttering, you lie in wait, listening to him shuck his pants down with a well restrained groan.
The hot press of his tip against your folds snaps your eyes open.
“Shh, baby, easy,” he mutters when you cry out. He fists himself, dragging the head of his cock through your folds, smearing your slick. He quickly finds your hole and pushes against it, not quite driving in. He rests there, pre-cum beading from his slit and smearing across your hole. “God, I’ve missed her.”
He thrusts in then. It’s unceremonious and sudden and you don’t even have the time to moan before he’s buried to the hilt. Your breath is stolen from you, and you gasp into the skin of your forearm as Dex moans, the sound loud in the silence around you. He falls back over you now, holding himself up, his chest and stomach melding to your back. You manage a little whimper as he nestles inside you, splitting your pussy apart around the thick of him.
He adjusts himself, grinding his hips against your arse. The movement means you can feel every little ridge sliding against your walls, the weight of his balls resting near your swollen clit. You whimper again, and he coos to match it, tutting you quietly as he slowly drags himself out of you.
“Bet that feels good, doesn’t it?” Dex whispers, masked face right beside your ear. He holds himself over you, shoulders hulking, suit stretched tight over his back as he rests the tip of his cock inside you. He pushes back in, the fabric of his pants bunched down around his thighs, rubbing against your legs. “It always feels good.”
You moan. “Dex, fuck.”
“Uh-uh, what did I say?” Dex mutters at your ear, hovering over you now as he fucks you. His hips slap against your arse where you’re pinned to the ground, pronebone and completely crushed beneath his mass. “Gotta be quiet. Wouldn’t want anyone comin’ up here, would we? I’d have to kill ‘em, baby.”
You whine. “Dex, no—”
“Yes,” he whines, mocking you with a smile split wide beneath his mask. “So keep those noises just for me.”
The thick of his cock splits your pussy apart, the stretch always rendering you breathless. He ruts in quickly, desperately, and the tip slams against that perfect spot inside you every single time. He’s on target every single time. You shouldn’t expect anything less from Bullseye.
You gnaw at your lower lip as you bury your face into your forearm, holding back your sobs of pleasure as heat starts simmering inside you again. That familiar pressure treks down the column of your spine too, and you whimper when it settles low in your belly, fanning across your womb.
Not that you know it, but Dex is much the same. His heart knocks wildly against his ribs as if he were still chasing you—he thinks, in some ways, he still is—and the buzzing in his brain is completely gone. All he’s thinking of is you, and all he wants is you. You’re all he needs, and no one will ever keep you from him.
“You’re mine, angel,” he whispers suddenly. One of his arms snakes around your throat again, pulling your face from your arm and pinning your head up. You gasp as he locks you into a chokehold, his grip gentle but firm. As he thrusts, one of his hands shifts to push part of his mask up, just revealing his mouth. He kisses your cheek. “You can’t run from me.”
He forces your head to the side so he can kiss you.
He kisses you, and you struggle to meet his intensity with the way he fucks you. You’re pliant in his arms, little whimpers melding against his lips as his tongue licks across yours and he slides his mouth forward. You swap spit and pant into each other’s space, and it’s barely even a kiss, but Dex loves it. He kisses the corner of your mouth as he groans, hips pumping, bicep tight on your throat.
“You were made for me,” he whispers, dragging his mouth across your warm cheek. He licks the salt from your skin, skims his teeth across your cheekbone. He noses along your pulse next, head dipping to plant wet kisses below your ear and along the back of your jaw. “My perfect girl.”
There will never be an I love you from Dex. What you have is not the love you see in movies, or in romance books. He is possessive and obsessive and so violently jealous that he’d rather rip the world apart before letting you go—and you know that. You know that, and you still can’t help but love him right back.
“Dex, please,” you whimper as he buries his face in your neck. The pressure in your lower belly is too much. Beneath your clothes, you’re tacky with sweat, and your thighs shake where he presses into you.
He knows you’re close. He probably knew before you even did.
“Let me feel you,” he says, thrusting, maintaining a deep, even rhythm. He listens to the way you moan and yowl beneath him, trying so hard to be quiet. He can feel the sounds vibrate in your throat where he sucks and bites at the skin. “I wanna feel you come, baby. You can do that for me, yeah? Just be a good girl and come all over my cock. Let me have it.”
Dex draws the line of your orgasm right in front of you, and your body practically flings you across it. Your entire body seizes up, trembling as the pressure in your belly fissures then shatters. You come hard around him, pussy clenching tight around the thick of his cock, and you moan his name loud enough that it echoes. He doesn’t seem to mind, and neither do you, as he fucks you through it, panting into your neck as his hips move. Heat flushes through your body as you shake beneath him, and you can’t help the whimpers that interrupt your moans when he starts rambling in your ear.
“That’s a good girl, that’s a good girl. Fuck, my best girl,” he utters, grunting and groaning in such a way that your clit aches with the heaviness of your heartbeat. He growls next, hips stuttering. “M’gonna fill this fuckin’ pussy, baby.”
He does. Groaning your name, quiet and bordering on a whine, Dex pushes his hips right up against your arse, cock knocking up against the plug of your cervix, and spills. He fills you, hips grinding, rolling, trying desperately to cling onto some kind of control, but he’s completely lost it. He pants around a pained whine as he comes, nosing your thrumming pulse. Thick and warm and so, so full.
When he finishes, his cock jerking and balls tightening with one last thrust, he eases down onto you. You whine as he smothers your body beneath his, trapping you beneath his mass. He shushes you, one of his hands pulling his mask off so his sweat-slick forehead can rest against your shoulder while he catches his breath.
His spine aches, but he ignores it. The muscles in his shoulders and back ripple when he rolls onto his side. He spins you then, his softening cock falling free of your pussy as he pulls you to him, one big hand immediately finding the fat of your arse to palm.
You both listen to the distant wail of sirens as you settle into the shadows.
You shiver, and Dex holds you tighter. So tight, you wonder if he’s afraid you’ll try to run again.
“I like it when you catch me,” you whisper, lifting your head to press a small kiss to his jaw. “Don’t like being without you.”
Dex smiles to himself, a deep rumble—almost a purr—vibrating through his chest as he shifts his head to catch your lips with his. He kisses you deeply as the sound of sirens get louder and louder and the world seems to light up blue around him.
reader rubbing herself on dunk’s tits what who said that
genuinely this got me goinggg
18+ (smut, riding, dunk being dunk, what the ask says)
he didn’t question it. one second, you were whining and running your hands all over his bare chest, still damp with river water. you squeezed at his biceps, then his pectorals, then ran your hands down the soft muscle of his abdomen until you could rub your palm against the line of hair beneath his navel.
the next second, you were pushing him down onto the shingled riverbank and clambering onto him, your pussy bare to the cool afternoon air. dunk did what he was instructed, simply laying still with his tunic balled beneath his head, his large hands finding the curve of your hips.
“oh, dunk,” you whisper as you finally straddle his chest, pussy wet where you part your thighs to fit around his mass. you wobble a little as you lower yourself, and the slick folds of your cunt find the corded fat of his pec. you mewl, the contact firm against your puffy clit. “ah, dunk, oh gods.”
his blue eyes are wide and watery and he stares up at you like he wants to give you the world. his hands are tight on your hips as you buck, another high-pitched whine falling from between your parted lips as you fall forward, bracketing his head with your arms. your tits swing low above his face as you arch down, dragging your clit against his chest until you’re breathless.
“dunk,” you call to him again, rutting your hips against the curve of his pectoral muscles. it’s soft but firm, splitting the folds of your pussy apart, slick drooling from you as you slide. you’re warm, and dunk groans low in his throat at the sensation of your ichor dripping from you, down the slant of his chest. you pant as you grind yourself down onto him. “feels so good, dunk.”
dunk blinks up at you, his cock twitching against his thigh, tip wet as you rock yourself against him. he kneads the fat at your hip between calloused fingers, and it takes the power of the gods for him not to force you down against him himself.
“you’re so warm,” is all dunk can think to say, eyes darting from your face to your pussy. you slide perfectly against his chest, slick glistening through the tawny hairs that grow from his pale skin. he groans deeply when you grind yourself even deeper, clit pushing along muscle. “an’ she’s so wet… so wet, sweetheart.”
you mewl, a desperate keen as you shift your hips. the sound of your cunt, slick and warm against his chest, is nearly louder than the running river nearby. that makes dunk’s ears burn bright red, a blush high on his cheeks as he takes one hand from your hip and cups one of your tits. you hum, pleased, as he palms the flesh while you ride him.
“needed this so bad,” you tell him, panting as heat winds down your spine, seeping in between your vertebrae. it leaks into your belly when you angle yourself deeper against him. “needed you so bad, dunk.”
his cock is hard now, hanging thick between the mass of his thighs. your words make him groan, cock jerking untouched behind you, as he continues to massage the mounds of your tits with one hand, the other on your hip.
“love your chest,” you continue, lips parted as your thighs begin to ache, a warm pressure pushing at the front of your pelvis. “love how strong you are. love your arms, an’ your legs, and your tummy…”
you sit up a little and dunk drops his hand from your breasts. still grinding yourself against the curve of his pectoral, you angle an arm back to palm at the soft muscle at his navel. dunk chokes on a groan at the fleeting touch, before you’re leaning back over him again and rubbing your puffy clit against the swell of his muscle. you’re practically gliding now, slick wet across his skin and hair.
“love your cock too,” you add as you chase your high. it lingers in front of you as the pressure builds, your legs trembling as your rocking increases. “y’so big, dunk. so big but always so—fuck, s—ah—so g-gentle.”
dunk moans, the hand that had been at your chest wrapping behind you now. he takes his cock, velvet skin burning hot, between his fingers and holds himself firm. he hisses, other hand forcing you tighter against his chest. you let out a breathy, whiny sound as your clit catches something just right, angles against him so perfectly, that you forget about the ache building in your thighs.
“wanna come on you,” you whine, lifting yourself so you can place your hands on the thickly corded muscle of his shoulders as you rut yourself along his chest. the pressure in your pelvis, the heat in the base of your spine, is nearly unbearable and you call for him as you start to tremble. “dunk, wanna come.”
dunk nods, whining with his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he watches, eyes shining, as you begin to come apart above him. he manages out a quiet, “please, sweetheart, please,” as you grind a last few circles against him, before the pressure snaps and the heat overwhelms you.
you cry out, arms shaking as you hold yourself up, hips stuttering as your orgasm crests in your nerves. dunk’s hand guides you through it, dragging you along the muscle, his chest heaving as he listens to you come undone above him. he moans, cock jerking in his hand, balls drawing tight as he spills across his knuckles while your rocking slows.
your pussy, slick and warm, buzzes with the friction as you lift your hips. strings of slick connect your folds with the curve of his muscles, and he watches with glossy eyes and pink cheeks as the strings snap. he groans, throaty and broken around a whimper of your name, as his cock gives one last wet twitch before he lets it soften back against his thigh.
“so good, dunk,” you murmur, lifting yourself until you were straddling his head, thighs bracketing all plush and warm. dunk sucks in a deep breath, groaning as you lower your wet cunt to his face. “but… s’just so messy.”
“i’ll help you,” he whispers, and you almost don’t hear him as you lower yourself to his mouth, the line of his nose finding the swollen bead of your clit, his tongue splitting your folds as one of your hands shoots down to thread through his hair. he groans when you tug.
you whine in return, rutting your hips against his face in chase of another orgasm, your entire body alight with burning pleasure on the shingled bank of the river.
Maekar seeing how well you do with his kids and wanting to add another Maekarling
and you don’t need much convincing
18+ (smut, breeding duhhh)
he watches you from across the courtyard where you sit on a low stone bench, surrounded by blooming spring flowers and a gaggle of excitable children that are not made of your blood. but someone of lesser understanding would not have known that.
the deep crimson of your skirts pool out around you, an unfurling magnolia with velvet petals, as you perch on the seat with rhae curled in your lap, head tucked beneath your chin. aemon sits beside you, his head on your shoulder as he reads softly aloud, and daella sits at your feet, fingers running up and down the smooth expanse of your skirts. aegon stands on his toes behind you, pushing yet another small flower into your hair.
maekar pauses in the doorway, leaning against the stone arch as he observes. his children speak kindly to you, and you speak to them much the same, and as you soothe rhae with one hand, pet daella’s hair with the other, whilst listening to aemon’s muttering and allowing aegon to turn your hair into a garden, maekar realises something. he realises he wants this life with you.
and when he corners you that evening, his children put to bed and tucked out of sight, he realises you want the same thing.
he’s not gentle.
it had started gentle, as it usually did, but after pulling you apart on the flat of his tongue, followed by the stretch of two thick fingers, he knew exactly what he wanted and how he was going to get it. good thing you liked it like that.
maekar curls you over the edge of the bed, your body completely bare as you bend and lay amongst the silks and furs. a strong, calloused hand holds the back of your neck, anchoring you to the feathered mattress as he stretches your pussy open around the thick of his cock.
he groans, feeling your pussy pull tight around him as he ruts in. silk walls draw inwards, heavy against the ridges along his shaft and the vein, pumping hot with blood, that runs along the underside. his other hand is a vice on your hip, dimpling the flesh as he forces you back onto him, the slapping sounds of skin-on-skin loud in the evening silence of your chambers.
you mewl into the sheets beneath you, a string of saliva already catching out the side of your mouth as your husband thrusts into you, the movements deep and far-reaching. heavy balls nudge against the swollen pearl of your clit, and you mewl again, startled, when the head of his cock punches up towards the plug of your cervix.
“don’t fuss,” maekar grumbles, rutting into you, eyes trailing down the line of your spine and over the curve of your arse as he holds you down by the nape. your pussy drools around him, his flushed shaft slick as he pulls out, then shoves back in. he groans, “fuck, you always take me so well, don’t you?”
he doesn’t really want a response when he questions you like this, cock splitting you open as he pins you to your shared bed. you gape, breathy moans falling free of your throat as your fingers tangle in the silken sheets and sweat builds tacky down your back and thighs. he listens to you gasp and mewl, a crooked smile on his face as he kneads the fat at your hip.
“how many times…” maekar begins, sentence breaking momentarily as the wet squelch of your cunt becomes audible in the flame-soaked silence, the open hearth flickering nearby. you whimper, and your husband groans. “will i have to spill in this tight cunt before you’re full, huh? how many times will she have to take me before you’re round with my child?”
you let out a pathetic sound, some mix of a gasp and a moan, the syllables showing some semblance of his name, but it’s lost in the heat of your pleasure. a third orgasm sparks at the ends of your nerves, flames flickering across the walls of your womb, deep in your pelvis.
maekar grunts, strands of white hair falling loose over his forehead, cheeks hued with pink beneath the candlelight. he palms the flesh of your arse now as the hand on your neck pushes you deeper against the bed.
“is that what you want, little dove?” he asks as his hips rock, the leaking head of his cock pushing right up against that perfect spot inside you. your back arches and you cry out his name, pussy fluttering as heat fills the base of your tummy. he grunts, continuing as you squirm. “you want me to fill you? spill deep inside this tight cunt ‘til she makes a right mess of herself, yeah?”
“maekar,” you manage out, and it’s low and tense and strung across a high-pitched moan. you fist the silks and furs for support as he rocks against you, bed creaking.
“i’m right here,” he whispers, barely audible over his hips slamming against your arse. the fingers on your neck give you a gentle squeeze, and you suck in a shallow breath. then, he groans, the thick of his cock sucked in tight as your pussy flutters around him. “oh, she wants it, little dove. wants me to fill her—wants me to make you a mother.”
you cry out at his words, your release strung taut across your sparking nerves. it’s right there, your entire body growing rigid beneath him as he spears you apart on his cock. you grow hot, and hotter still, tension deep through the lines of your pelvis as you angle your hips to meet his thrusts, heartbeat heavy in your clit.
maekar huffs and grunts behind you, his voice breaking across a poorly hidden whine. “fuck, fu-uh-ck, oh, little dove, here we go, here we go…”
he coaxes you through your orgasm as it ignites and overwhelms you. your body shakes, trembles like a picked flower, as heat bursts through your pelvis and the depths of your womb, your pussy squeezing tight around him. you moan, his name and his title up in the air around you, as stars burst behind your lowering lids and your legs threaten to give out.
but he’s not far behind you—as you come, he groans his praises, guiding you through the fissuring of pleasure with “that’s it, there we go” and “good girl, just like that” as he ruts his cock towards the base of your womb. with each thrust into you, slick dribbles out around his shaft, and he feels it along the seam of his balls as they draw up, visions of you fat with his child at the forefront of his mind.
maekar groans loudly. “gods, you’ll look perfect round with my child—fuck, i’ll be good to you, little dove, an’ i’ll keep you full all—the—fucking—time—” thrust, thrust, thrust, with each word, before he’s letting out a hoarse moan of your name and shoving himself to the hilt inside you.
he rolls his hips, sliding against you in lazy movements as he spills right against your cervix. still fizzling down from your own orgasm, you let out a shaky moan as he fills you, seed too warm in the base of your pelvis. his cock twitches, jerks inside you as your walls flutter, then pull him in even tighter as his seed fills you, fills you still, then settles.
he doesn’t pull out, but he collapses half way on top of you—the hand on your neck moving to bracket your head. you shift a little, panting as he plants a wet kiss to the corner of your mouth. you whine, turning your head to slide your lips to his. he grunts into your mouth as your tongues meet, and you taste yourself on him as your heart begins to slow beneath your ribs. he pulls away, resting his dewy forehead against your temple.
“it’ll take,” he says like he’s sure of it. like he knows it will.
“and if it doesn’t?” you counter through a mumble, limbs lax as you melt into the silks and furs, his body a firm press atop yours.
maekar chuckles. it’s a deep, low sound that vibrates through his chest, and it makes a little whine slip past your lips.
“then we keep trying,” he mutters, rolling his hips and nudging his cock deeper. you whimper, a shudder racking through you in response. he kisses your warm cheek. “i’ll fill you again and again, every fucking night, until you’re too full to even move… understood?”
you nod, words evading you as he noses your cheekbone, kissing you softly there too as his cock twitches where it sits deep, plugging you full of him.
thank you to the lovely anon who sent in a bunch of their reqs into my inbox, i’m so grateful you decided to pass your smutty torch onto me🥹
moans bounced off the walls as daeron thrusted into you, his moves languid yet sharp, jabbing gasps forming on your lips. your legs were wrapped around his waist, pulling both of your pelvises closer together. each movement was euphoric, and you couldn’t help but to tangle your hands in daeron’s hair, giving a sharp tug.
it was like a flick of a switch, the world flipping on its axis. daeron’s spine curled like a cat, his movements halting as your fingers embedded themselves into his hair. a sharp mewl left his lips, leaving your eyebrows to draw together. daeron’s sharp thrusts turned into jerky spurts, your lips parting in a gasp as his movements quickly turned into sporadic bursts.
“baby?” you gasp out, nails scratching daeron’s scalp, leaving him a whimpering and moaning mess. “baby, what’s wrong?”
no response passes daeron’s lips, his face twisted in pure pleasure as your fingers continue to card through his hair. it’s then you feel the warmth of his seed seep inside of you, his body jerking at the aftershocks of his orgasm.
a gasp leaves your lips, sharp and hot, rendering you speechless as daeron continues to sporadically rut his hips into yours. “i’m sorry. so fucking sorry.” daeron mumbles, his seed starting to drip down your thighs. “your hands— my hair, i just couldn’t help myself.”
daeron’s words suddenly has it all clicking in your head; your hands tugging at his hair — his reaction. turns out your solemn and quiet boyfriend likes his hair pulled, and you couldn’t help the smirk that tugs at your lips from the realization.
“aww, baby.” you coo, pulling harder at his hair, daeron moaning louder with each pull. “you like it when i play with your hair?”
you feel daeron’s cock twitch inside of you, his eyes screwed shut as you continued to twist and tug at his long blonde strands. “yea-yeah,” daeron gasps, putting all of his body weight onto you before placing his face in the crook of your neck. “don’t stop, sweet girl. please, don’t stop.”
a smile twitched on your lips, fingers locked in daeron’s hair. it was fascinating to see your normally stoney faced boyfriend fall apart, and you would keep this little tick of daeron’s hidden in your back pocket from now on.
my brain: why don’t we write riding dunk while he’s sweaty and bloody…… why don’t we write aerion whimpering….. why don’t we write dex with a breeding kink….. why don’t we write—
happy pride to everyone in the community!! happy pride to those who are out, those who are not, those who aren’t sure of their identity yet, those who don’t use labels, those who don’t feel seen, etc, etc. stay safe and don’t be ashamed to be yourself.
reader rubbing herself on dunk’s tits what who said that
genuinely this got me goinggg
18+ (smut, riding, dunk being dunk, what the ask says)
he didn’t question it. one second, you were whining and running your hands all over his bare chest, still damp with river water. you squeezed at his biceps, then his pectorals, then ran your hands down the soft muscle of his abdomen until you could rub your palm against the line of hair beneath his navel.
the next second, you were pushing him down onto the shingled riverbank and clambering onto him, your pussy bare to the cool afternoon air. dunk did what he was instructed, simply laying still with his tunic balled beneath his head, his large hands finding the curve of your hips.
“oh, dunk,” you whisper as you finally straddle his chest, pussy wet where you part your thighs to fit around his mass. you wobble a little as you lower yourself, and the slick folds of your cunt find the corded fat of his pec. you mewl, the contact firm against your puffy clit. “ah, dunk, oh gods.”
his blue eyes are wide and watery and he stares up at you like he wants to give you the world. his hands are tight on your hips as you buck, another high-pitched whine falling from between your parted lips as you fall forward, bracketing his head with your arms. your tits swing low above his face as you arch down, dragging your clit against his chest until you’re breathless.
“dunk,” you call to him again, rutting your hips against the curve of his pectoral muscles. it’s soft but firm, splitting the folds of your pussy apart, slick drooling from you as you slide. you’re warm, and dunk groans low in his throat at the sensation of your ichor dripping from you, down the slant of his chest. you pant as you grind yourself down onto him. “feels so good, dunk.”
dunk blinks up at you, his cock twitching against his thigh, tip wet as you rock yourself against him. he kneads the fat at your hip between calloused fingers, and it takes the power of the gods for him not to force you down against him himself.
“you’re so warm,” is all dunk can think to say, eyes darting from your face to your pussy. you slide perfectly against his chest, slick glistening through the tawny hairs that grow from his pale skin. he groans deeply when you grind yourself even deeper, clit pushing along muscle. “an’ she’s so wet… so wet, sweetheart.”
you mewl, a desperate keen as you shift your hips. the sound of your cunt, slick and warm against his chest, is nearly louder than the running river nearby. that makes dunk’s ears burn bright red, a blush high on his cheeks as he takes one hand from your hip and cups one of your tits. you hum, pleased, as he palms the flesh while you ride him.
“needed this so bad,” you tell him, panting as heat winds down your spine, seeping in between your vertebrae. it leaks into your belly when you angle yourself deeper against him. “needed you so bad, dunk.”
his cock is hard now, hanging thick between the mass of his thighs. your words make him groan, cock jerking untouched behind you, as he continues to massage the mounds of your tits with one hand, the other on your hip.
“love your chest,” you continue, lips parted as your thighs begin to ache, a warm pressure pushing at the front of your pelvis. “love how strong you are. love your arms, an’ your legs, and your tummy…”
you sit up a little and dunk drops his hand from your breasts. still grinding yourself against the curve of his pectoral, you angle an arm back to palm at the soft muscle at his navel. dunk chokes on a groan at the fleeting touch, before you’re leaning back over him again and rubbing your puffy clit against the swell of his muscle. you’re practically gliding now, slick wet across his skin and hair.
“love your cock too,” you add as you chase your high. it lingers in front of you as the pressure builds, your legs trembling as your rocking increases. “y’so big, dunk. so big but always so—fuck, s—ah—so g-gentle.”
dunk moans, the hand that had been at your chest wrapping behind you now. he takes his cock, velvet skin burning hot, between his fingers and holds himself firm. he hisses, other hand forcing you tighter against his chest. you let out a breathy, whiny sound as your clit catches something just right, angles against him so perfectly, that you forget about the ache building in your thighs.
“wanna come on you,” you whine, lifting yourself so you can place your hands on the thickly corded muscle of his shoulders as you rut yourself along his chest. the pressure in your pelvis, the heat in the base of your spine, is nearly unbearable and you call for him as you start to tremble. “dunk, wanna come.”
dunk nods, whining with his teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he watches, eyes shining, as you begin to come apart above him. he manages out a quiet, “please, sweetheart, please,” as you grind a last few circles against him, before the pressure snaps and the heat overwhelms you.
you cry out, arms shaking as you hold yourself up, hips stuttering as your orgasm crests in your nerves. dunk’s hand guides you through it, dragging you along the muscle, his chest heaving as he listens to you come undone above him. he moans, cock jerking in his hand, balls drawing tight as he spills across his knuckles while your rocking slows.
your pussy, slick and warm, buzzes with the friction as you lift your hips. strings of slick connect your folds with the curve of his muscles, and he watches with glossy eyes and pink cheeks as the strings snap. he groans, throaty and broken around a whimper of your name, as his cock gives one last wet twitch before he lets it soften back against his thigh.
“so good, dunk,” you murmur, lifting yourself until you were straddling his head, thighs bracketing all plush and warm. dunk sucks in a deep breath, groaning as you lower your wet cunt to his face. “but… s’just so messy.”
“i’ll help you,” he whispers, and you almost don’t hear him as you lower yourself to his mouth, the line of his nose finding the swollen bead of your clit, his tongue splitting your folds as one of your hands shoots down to thread through his hair. he groans when you tug.
you whine in return, rutting your hips against his face in chase of another orgasm, your entire body alight with burning pleasure on the shingled bank of the river.
