sophie | 25 | she/her | TW: NONCON FICS | Inbox open if you just wanna chat about fics or anything. Anon is always on. Requests are now OPEN! ORIGINAL FICS - I NEVER USE AI!!
All of my works contain dark themes, including dubcon, noncon (aka rape), somno, abusive relationships, forced pregnancy, incest, and possibly more (each fanfic will have individual content warnings)
DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR OR IF YOU ARE TRIGGERED BY ANY OF THE ABOVE THEMES
I have never, and will never, used AI to write or edit my works in any way. All works posted are my own.
Recent Fics
Dinner Party - reader embarrasses Rafe at a dinner with his family
On Call - stepbro!Rafe picks up a call from Ward while fucking you
Blue Christmas - When your car doesn't start after the company Christmas party, you think the shy parking security guard will come to your rescue, but you couldn't be more wrong
Angel - stepbro!Rafe disapproves of your Halloween costume
Crying in the Country Club ch. VI
Don't Scream - ghostface!Rafe stumbles upon Reader while she's masturbating in bed
Crying in the Country Club ch. V
Power Trip - corrupted!peacekeeper!Sejanus can’t hold himself back when he finds district!Reader drunk in a back alley
In the Night - ghostface!stepbro!Rafe doesn’t like how close you’ve been getting with JJ
Old Grudges Die Hard - Rafe Cameron had made your life hell ever since you first met him in elementary school. When you moved away for college, you thought you were finally done with your bully, but your life changes when you come face to face with him at his party a year later.
Crying in the Country Club ch. IV
Crying in the Country Club ch. III
Crying in the Country Club ch. II
Crying in the Country Club ch. I
Softcore - Dilf!Rafe retaliates when younger!Reader jokes that he needs viagra
About Me
I go by Sophie! I’m 25 years old and I use she/her pronouns.
I have been writing fanfiction since I was 14 (yes there is an incredibly cursed blog full of kpop fanfic that I wrote in middle school still floating around on tumblr to this day). I first got into reading dark fanfics when I was 19 or 20 and I’ve been writing and posting my own dark fanfics for about 3 years.
Who I Write For
Sophie’s Masterlist
I mostly write for Rafe Cameron, but I have written for Coriolanus Snow, Sejanus Plinth, Loki, and Bruce Wayne (Christian Bale) in the past.
In addition to my Rafe Cameron fics, I have also featured Topper Thorton as a character in a smut.
Requests
Requests are allowed and encouraged but I can give no guarantee that I will get around to writing all of them. I currently have over 200 messages in my inbox, so if I don't end up taking your request, it's nothing personal, I just have a lot of them :)
Here is a list of what I will not write about
Recs!!!!!
Rec tag is #recrecrec
I reblog many fics written by other authors onto this blog but here are just a couple of my favorite authors on tumblr that I have to rec
You took another sip of your drink between giggles as you listened to his story about having to run from the cops at his last party.
“Not like they would have actually done anything if they caught me,” he drawled with a low chuckle.
“Oh my god, I’ve never been to a party that got busted before,” you admitted, shaking your head with a smile and looking up at the taller man.
“Then this must be your first time coming to one of my parties.” Rafe joked, but you nodded your head in agreement, and he didn’t look surprised.
“That explains why I didn’t recognize you, sweetheart,” he grinned, white teeth winking at you as he shifted closer to you in the secluded hallway. “I would have remembered a pretty girl like you.”
You blushed, thanking him for his compliment with a smile. “I’m just in town to visit my sister, she has a friend who knew about the party.”
Rafe didn’t reply at first, his eyes flicking down to the short black skirt you were wearing so fast you convinced yourself you must have imagined it.
“You’ve barely had any of your drink, Y/N.”
You glanced down at the cup in your hand, suddenly feeling like a jerk for not having the drink that Rafe had prepared for you.
He was so nice to you, and it felt good considering you didn’t know anyone here except your sister, who was god knows where right now.
You raised the cup to your lips again and you were surprised when his hand covered yours, holding the cup in place and forcing you to drink the rest of the strong punch he had poured you.
When he finally dropped his hand, you swallowed the last bit and looked up at him in confusion.
Rafe brought his hand to your chin, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the drop of alcohol that you missed, and mumbling, “spilled a little.”
His touch sent a hot spark through you, and you blushed at the close contact.
“Thanks,” you quietly replied with a smile.
Rafe was so nice.
“C’mon, lets get you another drink.” He grabbed your wrist and started walking towards the sounds of the party but you stayed put, tugging your wrist from his grasp.
“I don’t know if I should’ve have another drink yet, I think that last one is about to hit me hard.” You paused, noticing the frown that had begun to set in on his face. “Plus, I don’t really know anyone here, it’s probably best if I take it slow.”
He looked down at you, his eyes darkened and his jaw ticked before he replied, “well you know me, don’t you?”
His answer surprised you, but it did make sense, and Rafe had only been sweet and helpful to you so far tonight, so you felt pretty confident that he would help you out if anything went wrong.
“Okay! I guess that would be fine,” you smiled at him, happy when his grin returned to his face.
“I promise, I’ll make sure you’re okay.”
You followed him to the kitchen where he poured you another cup of punch before leading you to his bedroom. You felt so glad he was making your drinks for you, and you thought to yourself that Rafe seemed like a really good guy.
“It’s so loud out there,” he explained as he closed the door behind him, muffling the sounds of the party downstairs. “Thought it’d be better here, so we can keep talking.”
“That makes sense, you’re so smart,” you replied, genuinely smiling at how thoughtful he was being. You sat down on his bed, taking another sip of your drink before setting it down on his bedside table. Your head felt kind of funny, and you thought it might be time to slow down.
“So, have you lived in Outer Banks your whole life?”
Rafe sat next to you on his bed, “yep. Born and raised.”
“It must be so nice living near the beach, I’ve always wanted to live on the ocean.”
Rafe didn’t respond, his blue eyes studied you when you looked away, drinking in the way your tight shirt and short skirt accentuated your curves.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that, Y/N?” His voice was deeper now, words coming out slightly slurred.
You turned to meet his eyes and you were shocked when he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours.
Letting out a small squeak of surprise, you tried to pull away, but his hand came to the back of your neck, holding you in place as his lips covered yours again.
When Rafe broke away from the kiss only to push you down onto the bed and start straddling you, you tried to protest.
“Wait, Rafe stop,” you told him and he looked down at you like you were crazy.
“What?” He questioned you, clearly annoyed that you had interrupted him. His blue eyes bored into you, and anxiety began to clutch your throat.
“I- I just think we’re going too fast, I feel pretty drunk right now,” you quietly admitted and he scoffed.
His blue eyes darkened as he sneered at you. “This whole night you’ve been trailing after me and batting your fucking eyelashes at me and now..? What- you’re acting like you don’t want this?”
His harsh words stung and they had you second guessing every interaction you had had with him tonight.
“Like you weren’t leading me on?”
You reached a hand up to push him off of you, to show him that you weren’t kidding, and you gasped when he harshly grabbed your wrist, twisting it painfully as he pinned it to his bed.
You yelped, struggling against him as your breath grew uneven. “I wasn’t leading you-”
His lips captured yours again. This time his hand came to your cheek, holding you in place as his other hand stayed wrapped tight around your wrist.
The feeling reminded you of the several other times you had found yourself in situations like this, alone at a party with a stranger who thought you were sending signals when you were just being nice.
It always took you until the last second when they would lean in for the kiss for you to realize you had sent them the wrong message.
A couple of them got angry with you and called you a ‘tease’ or a ‘slut’ before storming off, which hurt and confused you a lot. But you had never had a guy keep kissing you after you had asked him to stop.
When he squeezed your wrist again, you whimpered in pain, and Rafe took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, groaning as he tasted you.
You felt so confused, and the alcohol coursing through your system wasn’t helping you. You thought that Rafe was a good guy. You thought you could trust him.
Hadn’t he been helping you out all night?
His dark room was spinning around you as he kissed you, and when his hand trailed from your chin to your chest, you squirmed beneath him.
Rafe broke the kiss, his rough hands coming to the hem of your shirt and tugging it off over your shoulders, ripping the fabric in the process before he discarded it over his shoulder.
“Why the fuck do you think those drinks I made you were so strong?” He chuckled, looking down at your exposed chest hungrily, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip as he took in your distressed state. “Just ‘cuz I was being nice?”
You let out a whimper at his harsh words, burning tears collecting on your waterline, “I- I thought-”
When you felt his hand creeping up your skirt, the pads of his large fingers pressing against the damp patch on your lacy panties, you froze, teary eyes going wide as you looked up at him fearfully.
“I didn’t spend the whole party with you to listen to your thoughts, Y/N.” He mocked you, tugging your panties down your legs with ease despite your pathetic attempts to stop him.
Your back arched up off the bed when Rafe roughly pushed two digits past the gummy resistance of your entrance, sliding his large fingers inside you with ease, and you bit your lip to stifle the whine that threatened to climb out of your throat.
“I didn’t bring you up to my fucking bedroom just for you to back out after teasing me like a slut all night.”
Still working on the obsession fic, getting closer to finishing it but I just posted a drabble and THE DROUGHT IS OVER!!! ITS BEEN LIKE A YEAR SINCE I POSTED OMFG FINALLY 😭😭
You took another sip of your drink between giggles as you listened to his story about having to run from the cops at his last party.
“Not like they would have actually done anything if they caught me,” he drawled with a low chuckle.
“Oh my god, I’ve never been to a party that got busted before,” you admitted, shaking your head with a smile and looking up at the taller man.
“Then this must be your first time coming to one of my parties.” Rafe joked, but you nodded your head in agreement, and he didn’t look surprised.
“That explains why I didn’t recognize you, sweetheart,” he grinned, white teeth winking at you as he shifted closer to you in the secluded hallway. “I would have remembered a pretty girl like you.”
You blushed, thanking him for his compliment with a smile. “I’m just in town to visit my sister, she has a friend who knew about the party.”
Rafe didn’t reply at first, his eyes flicking down to the short black skirt you were wearing so fast you convinced yourself you must have imagined it.
“You’ve barely had any of your drink, Y/N.”
You glanced down at the cup in your hand, suddenly feeling like a jerk for not having the drink that Rafe had prepared for you.
He was so nice to you, and it felt good considering you didn’t know anyone here except your sister, who was god knows where right now.
You raised the cup to your lips again and you were surprised when his hand covered yours, holding the cup in place and forcing you to drink the rest of the strong punch he had poured you.
When he finally dropped his hand, you swallowed the last bit and looked up at him in confusion.
Rafe brought his hand to your chin, rubbing his thumb across your bottom lip, collecting the drop of alcohol that you missed, and mumbling, “spilled a little.”
His touch sent a hot spark through you, and you blushed at the close contact.
“Thanks,” you quietly replied with a smile.
Rafe was so nice.
“C’mon, lets get you another drink.” He grabbed your wrist and started walking towards the sounds of the party but you stayed put, tugging your wrist from his grasp.
“I don’t know if I should’ve have another drink yet, I think that last one is about to hit me hard.” You paused, noticing the frown that had begun to set in on his face. “Plus, I don’t really know anyone here, it’s probably best if I take it slow.”
He looked down at you, his eyes darkened and his jaw ticked before he replied, “well you know me, don’t you?”
His answer surprised you, but it did make sense, and Rafe had only been sweet and helpful to you so far tonight, so you felt pretty confident that he would help you out if anything went wrong.
“Okay! I guess that would be fine,” you smiled at him, happy when his grin returned to his face.
“I promise, I’ll make sure you’re okay.”
You followed him to the kitchen where he poured you another cup of punch before leading you to his bedroom. You felt so glad he was making your drinks for you, and you thought to yourself that Rafe seemed like a really good guy.
“It’s so loud out there,” he explained as he closed the door behind him, muffling the sounds of the party downstairs. “Thought it’d be better here, so we can keep talking.”
“That makes sense, you’re so smart,” you replied, genuinely smiling at how thoughtful he was being. You sat down on his bed, taking another sip of your drink before setting it down on his bedside table. Your head felt kind of funny, and you thought it might be time to slow down.
“So, have you lived in Outer Banks your whole life?”
Rafe sat next to you on his bed, “yep. Born and raised.”
“It must be so nice living near the beach, I’ve always wanted to live on the ocean.”
Rafe didn’t respond, his blue eyes studied you when you looked away, drinking in the way your tight shirt and short skirt accentuated your curves.
“You’re so beautiful, you know that, Y/N?” His voice was deeper now, words coming out slightly slurred.
You turned to meet his eyes and you were shocked when he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours.
Letting out a small squeak of surprise, you tried to pull away, but his hand came to the back of your neck, holding you in place as his lips covered yours again.
When Rafe broke away from the kiss only to push you down onto the bed and start straddling you, you tried to protest.
“Wait, Rafe stop,” you told him and he looked down at you like you were crazy.
“What?” He questioned you, clearly annoyed that you had interrupted him. His blue eyes bored into you, and anxiety began to clutch your throat.
“I- I just think we’re going too fast, I feel pretty drunk right now,” you quietly admitted and he scoffed.
His blue eyes darkened as he sneered at you. “This whole night you’ve been trailing after me and batting your fucking eyelashes at me and now..? What- you’re acting like you don’t want this?”
His harsh words stung and they had you second guessing every interaction you had had with him tonight.
“Like you weren’t leading me on?”
You reached a hand up to push him off of you, to show him that you weren’t kidding, and you gasped when he harshly grabbed your wrist, twisting it painfully as he pinned it to his bed.
You yelped, struggling against him as your breath grew uneven. “I wasn’t leading you-”
His lips captured yours again. This time his hand came to your cheek, holding you in place as his other hand stayed wrapped tight around your wrist.
The feeling reminded you of the several other times you had found yourself in situations like this, alone at a party with a stranger who thought you were sending signals when you were just being nice.
It always took you until the last second when they would lean in for the kiss for you to realize you had sent them the wrong message.
A couple of them got angry with you and called you a ‘tease’ or a ‘slut’ before storming off, which hurt and confused you a lot. But you had never had a guy keep kissing you after you had asked him to stop.
When he squeezed your wrist again, you whimpered in pain, and Rafe took the opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth, groaning as he tasted you.
You felt so confused, and the alcohol coursing through your system wasn’t helping you. You thought that Rafe was a good guy. You thought you could trust him.
Hadn’t he been helping you out all night?
His dark room was spinning around you as he kissed you, and when his hand trailed from your chin to your chest, you squirmed beneath him.
Rafe broke the kiss, his rough hands coming to the hem of your shirt and tugging it off over your shoulders, ripping the fabric in the process before he discarded it over his shoulder.
“Why the fuck do you think those drinks I made you were so strong?” He chuckled, looking down at your exposed chest hungrily, his tongue swiping along his bottom lip as he took in your distressed state. “Just ‘cuz I was being nice?”
You let out a whimper at his harsh words, burning tears collecting on your waterline, “I- I thought-”
When you felt his hand creeping up your skirt, the pads of his large fingers pressing against the damp patch on your lacy panties, you froze, teary eyes going wide as you looked up at him fearfully.
“I didn’t spend the whole party with you to listen to your thoughts, Y/N.” He mocked you, tugging your panties down your legs with ease despite your pathetic attempts to stop him.
Your back arched up off the bed when Rafe roughly pushed two digits past the gummy resistance of your entrance, sliding his large fingers inside you with ease, and you bit your lip to stifle the whine that threatened to climb out of your throat.
“I didn’t bring you up to my fucking bedroom just for you to back out after teasing me like a slut all night.”
You refuse the rogue prince one too many times and his patience reaches its end.
CW: Non-con, smut, p in v sex, chasing, swords, breeding kink, outdoor sex, rough sex, Dark! Daemon, loss of maidenhood, Caraxes being a big scary dragon, Celtigar! Reader
Words: 2k
The roar of the gigantic beast reverberating through the forest drowns the riotous song of your heartbeat and scattered breaths. The towering, ancient trees shake with the sudden winds. You almost find your demise upon the forest floor, the unnatural breeze brought on by the flapping of massive wings above nearly causing a fall.
Branches and thorns catch the hem of your long, hefty dress. What a mistake it was, leaping into the night with such haste, lacking proper attire, or even a proper plan. But other prospects were dreadfully amiss.
You were seen, wanted. A mere query in Claw Isle to strengthen the alliance with House Celtigar, often forgotten and shadowed by other houses, bigger and stronger.
What started as a political endeavor on behalf of King Viserys swiftly turned into a bid for your hand in marriage, to your abject realization.
He is all you despise, violent and arrogant. Insane. There is no doubt the blood of the dragon pours through his veins.
"What must I do to earn a few minutes of your time, my beautiful nymph?"
"It appears you shall steal it regardless, my lord," you stiffly reply, hastening your strides to lose him in the wide hallways of the castle. It is to no avail as he keeps pace with ease, his boots drumming along the floor stones.
"It is because you will not grant me an audience, my beauty…" A breath rushes from your throat when the prince seizes your arm, interrupting your hurried walk. His dark eyes fall upon you, brimming with mirth as he lifts your chin. His pale fingers are strangely warm. Indignation floods your being at the nonchalant intimacy of his touch. Your dismay is met by a conceited smirk. "Or even look at me. What have I done to inspire such spite?"
A crease settles over your brow.
"My lord, Septa Aelle will look for me if I do not show…"
His deep chuckle summons heat in your cheeks.
"The hour is awfully late for learning, is it not?" His touch strays to the side of your face, his gaze lingering on your lips. You bristle. It is no way for a lord, a prince, to behave. Such behavior is that of a rascal, a man of low morals. Wandering eyes could question your virtue. You slap his hand away. It hangs in the air as his mouth thins.
"And yet I am learning much about the stubbornness of men," you retaliate before taking your leave.
He does not follow this time.
You believe his fixation throttled by your blatant disdain.
How wrong you were… painfully so.
Again and again, you denied every one of the prince's attempts at courtship, until his impatience turned into frustration, and his frustration into rage.
"I am flattered, my lord, but I am content here, at Claw Isle, with my own countrymen, where a match has already been secured for me."
"And does this mysterious, secure match have a name?" he inquires sardonically.
"It is no concern of yours, my lord."
"How is it not my concern to fight for what is mine?" Acrimony flows through the prince’s tone as his hand twitches over the pommel of Dark Sister, the infamous sword of Visenya Targaryen, now his. It is said the blade’s thirst for blood is only matched by the rogue prince’s own.
"My lord…" You retreat further behind your father’s seat.
His dusky gaze remains shackled to your trembling frame. He takes another step towards your father, towards you, only stopping when the guards form a wall between you and the Targaryen prince.
"And you have been mine, my lady, from the minute my eyes rested upon your lovely form…" He squints at you and a shiver dances through your limbs. "Much as you refuse to see it."
A shaky mumble rolls on your tongue.
"Father, may I be excused?"
Your father nods, dismissing you with an apologetic curve of his lips. He has done all he can to protect you from the world, a world often so cruel. He has even found you a kind lord to marry.
But you are unsure how long your father will be able to protect you from the flames burning in the prince’s eyes before they engulf you in their heat. Your father’s stern voice fills the halls of the castle as you walk to your room.
"Lord Targaryen as I have said before…"
What Daemon Targaryen cannot have, he schemes to take; and when those schemes fail, he resorts to the ancient ways of his house.
Dragons. Fear made flesh and bone. Fire and blood.
First, he cut his way through your father’s entire guard, leaving a trail of bodies on his path to your chambers. You were lucky the septa tore you from slumber, allowing your escape.
Then, as you ran through the forest, the most chilling screeching froze the blood in your veins.
The war cry of a dragon. Caraxes.
The fearsome beast’s shadow spans so wide, it consumes all light for miles, concealing the moon herself.
Your chest burns. Your feet ache. You will not last much longer on foot. Unfortunately, your horse met his dire fate miles ago. He collapsed on a thick tree root and is now nothing but a steaming pile of charred flesh.
Hope flares inside you as a small cave below the forest ground peeks through the darkness. A hiding spot. The gods finally show mercy.
You run faster, breathless in your efforts. Just a few more strides and you will be safe.
Slowly, you inch inside the cave, praying in silence no animal lies in the darkness. Although you are desperate enough to challenge a bear or wolf, as evidenced by the determined way you squeeze the handle of the Valyrian steel dagger your father gave you.
Water drips from the rock above you, the frosty chill penetrating through your cloak and dress. Shivering, you collapse to the ground. The bruises and cuts you gathered during your mad run are nothing compared to the sheer fright tightly wrapped around your heart.
All goes quiet for a time.
Only the chant of the night may be heard. The fluttering of grass. The cry of insects. The song of owls.
You allow calm to find shelter inside you again. Your heart settles.
It is as you rise, sitting on your knees, that a scorching breeze swallows your entire being, draping you in warmth. You whirl with a gasp.
The sight that greets you unleashes thunder in your veins.
A gigantic gold eye trails your movement, the dark slit in its center inflating as you tremble.
Words are strangled by terror and your mouth simply parts, your shaky steps dragging you away from the beast.
Massive, crimson scales and heavy wings slither in your vision. You hold your breath. Is this how you will perish? Consumed by dragon fire?
Before you can ponder your end, the thud of boots erupts in the cave. Silver hair and a winning smile invade your sight.
"Did you truly think you could run from me, my love?"
Daemon’s orbs shimmer in the darkness as he prowls towards you. He removes his gloves and tosses them to the floor.
"I am not your love," you hiss.
He chuckles, amusement waltzing in his orbs when you lift the dagger and point it at him. "So defiant, even in the face of the inevitable." There’s a hint of admiration in his tone.
"If you possess a modicum of honor, you will turn…"
He laughs again, rousing a snowstorm in your blood.
"Honor? Tell me, beauty, do I seem like a man of honor to you?" Malevolence lights his features. He arches his brow, his heated stare traveling along your heaving chest. "What’s Honor to delight, pleasure?"
The blade wobbles in your grasp.
"Ser, I beg of you…"
"Such fire in you, my love. A fire fit for a dragon."
He draws Dark Sister from its scabbard. Your chest tightens. His motions are slow, bereft of alarm, unlike yours. The pathetic slashes you attempt with the dagger are met with mockery. He dodges every single blow with a smile, plucking shameless joy from your torment. One flick of the sword sends the dagger flying across the cave. He pricks your palm, drawing blood, and you whimper, clutching your hand to your chest.
"Please…"
The cold tip of his blade is wedged between your breasts, falling and rising with your heartbeat.
"How can I stop when you beg so sweetly, my lady?"
He slices your dress open in the middle. The awful ripping bounces against the walls of the cave, sickling reverberating in your ears.
Daemon’s sword clatters to the floor as he pounces on you. He pins you to the ground. His strength is overwhelming.
Sobs ripple in your chest as he finishes undressing you. The tatters of your dress end on the floor. Frosty air kisses your skin, goosebumps blooming over it.
Hand exploring your naked chest, he hums,
"Your beauty far outweighs my fantasies, my lady."
Your breath falters as his mouth lands on your nipple. Daemon rolls it in his mouth, cupping your breasts. His tongue twirls as your back arches.
The prince’s scorching hands and feverish tongue leave no part of you ungroped, untasted. Fiery touches send tingles through your body.
His lips find yours, sweeping you in a hungry kiss. As you whine against his mouth, his touch creeps south.
You writhe beneath him as your legs are crudely parted.
He slides between your thighs, draping himself over you. His desire, throbbing and heavy, carves a searing imprint into your belly. Dread pulses through you as he fumbles with the leather of his pants, freeing his cock. Entranced rasps vibrate in his chest.
"Keep fighting me, my love. It only stokes the flames of my longing…" His chuckle resonates in the cave, lips whispering along your earshell, "and makes my cock harder."
The prince yields to his basest urges, patience and tenderness vacant, as he thrusts his length into your dry cunt. Pain burns through your soft flesh.
A silent scream parts your lips. Daemon corrals your wrists above your head with one hand while the other wraps around your throat, pressing on your pulse.
He defiles you violently, taking your maidenhood without ceremony.
Tears stream down your cheeks as he pants and grunts above you. The terrible echo of flesh against flesh fills the cave.
Your body jolts with his wild cadence, light wavering in your sight with every blunt graze of his hard flesh against your own.
Sweat-drenched, silver strands brush along your chest when he bends to nip your skin, scattering bites over your neck. His hot tongue collects your tears like a savory nectar.
"By the gods, you are tight," he coos. It feels as though you will rip, torn asunder by his gluttonous desire. Your delicate skin chafes along the stone. Slickness and blood coat his cock as Daemon doesn’t relent.
He whispers dreadful promises in your ear, of taking you to Dragonstone, of making you his second wife, of planting an heir in your womb.
You believe it all done when his cock pulsates in your abused cunt and he unleashes his seed with a contented sigh, purring deep in his chest. But the prince remains nestled in your heat. The thickness springing from his softening length burns your walls, filling you to the brim. Horror flutters inside you as it slowly drips past where you and the prince are joined, staining the inside of your thighs. Shame prickles your insides as you are branded by the Targaryen prince. Sullied. A maiden no longer.
A great fatigue engulfs you but Daemon wrenches your chin, forcing you awake. Lust sparkles in his dark gaze.
I do not have a taglist anymore. Follow and turn up notifs for my sideblog @straytales to know when I post something new.
"Stay with me, my love," he says before gliding his lips over yours possessively. His tongue tangles with yours, silencing your tearful whimpers. "Dawn remains at a distance and a dragon’s hunger isn’t so easily appeased."
toxic best friend!jack abbot loves ruining your dates.
(content : piv, reader implied with feminine names and appearance, daddy kink, pervy!abbot, panty stealing, jokes about him being old enough to be ur dad, hes yucky yucky yucky but yummy, lowkey cheating but its ok because its with him. google doc link with larger text at the bottom ♥︎ .)
honestly, if you were any sort of smart, you would have told him to fuck off a loooooong time ago. even if you did, you’re sure he probably wouldn’t have listened. that’s just the type of guy he was.
he really wasn’t always like this. he was sweet. protective in the way that made your other friends joke about how he was “in love with you”. you laughed it off. then again, you weren’t dating as much as you were now.
it started with a guy from your gym. he was alright looking. not really your type but he seemed nice when he came up to you to ask for your number. you usually wouldn’t give it out to some random guy but .. it’s been awhile to say the least.
after texting every so often, he asked you out. cute little hole in the wall restaurant for lunch. you said yes .. even if it could have been planned better.
that day, jack had texted you if you wanted to hang out around lunch time. maybe check out the new coffee place by your house you said you’ve been wanting to try.
cant. big mama’s got a date😈
something about reading that created a pit in his stomach. he didn’t respond for a little bit. tried to focus on something else. he couldn’t understand what had him so upset about this. what he did understand was that he could not let this happen.
when lunchtime came, he placed his house key on his kitchen table, walked outside and shut the door. he pulled his phone out, hitting your phone number.
“jack?” you answer after the first ring.
“hey, sugar,” he says in the most fake sincere voice. “i’m sorry, i know you’re on a date. i just locked myself out. robby’s on, you’re the only other person who’s got one. anyway you can come here?”
he hears you sigh, a small malicious smile growing on his face knowing he’s got you.
“..you can’t just like.. walk around a bit until i’m done?”
“i would but i left the stove on. i’m sorry.”
he wasn’t sorry.
when you showed up, he couldn’t help but eye you up and down. you were wearing some cute casual dress that your tits were nearly pooling out of. he quickly fixed his face, giving you a smile.
“you look nice. sorry i had to steal ya.”
you shrug, pulling his spare key out of your bag and unlocking his door. “eh. he was kinda boring anyways. jobless. mama’s boy. you kinda saved me.”
jack laughed, having a bit of a smug look on his face. he liked the sound of that. jack abbot. your savior.
“i thought you said the stove was on?” he hears you say which makes his head snap up. whoops. his mistake !
this became the norm. whenever you had a date, it was like clockwork. popped tire, lost his wallet, forgot his lucky stethoscope at home.
it was so fucking annoying on your end, but on his side, he got to see your pretty little grumpy face that you dolled up for some other guy.
and as time passed, he started to creep even himself out.
when you two sat on the couch together to watch a movie, he covered you two in the same blanket, letting you lean into him. when you left your phone behind to use the bathroom, he checked it. deleted other guys’ numbers and texts. stalked your instagram dms. blocked whoever he didn’t like. acted stupid when you pointed it out.
he really scared himself once he started stealing your panties. it was only one at first. really quick. snatched it up and shoved it into his pocket before you could even blink. he didn’t even realize what he was doing until he did it.
when he got home he felt disgusting about it. took it out and placed it on his bed. paced around a bit. he felt even worse about it once he wrapped the fabric around his cock and started moaning your name.
he was a dirty old man. what kind of guy is best friends with a girl so much younger than him? what kind of guy steals her panties and dirties them with his load?
it all came to a peak when he sat on your bed, watching you get ready for some sleazebag who asked you out right in front of him. practically ignored him. probably thought he was your dad.
he couldn’t control himself! when you spun around in that tiny little dress of yours, asked how you looked, it was like a reflex. grabbed your hips from behind, squeezing the fatty part he found.
the sick part of him reveled in the way you jumped and squealed at the touch. but you didn’t push him away. even when he pushed you over your bed, pressing his hips against your ass.
“fuckin’ stupid- fuck-“ jack slurs out with every snap of his hips. “gooood, you’re so fuckin’ tightttt- oh my god..”
your mascara was starting to smear from your face being pushed into the mattress. he didn’t even have the curtesy or patience to take your dress off. just pushed your panties to the side and pushed his mushroom tip riiiiiiight in.
“bet he’s outside waiting..” he moaned, his hand hitting your ass cheek with a smack. “thought i was your dad- fuck.. fuck, that jackass.. wonder if he’ll see through the window.. mm, yeah, you’d like that? your boy toy watchin’ pops fuck you deep? ahh- mhm.. yeah, baby.. lemme hear it..”
you whine, pushing yourself back into him. talk about willpower. you should have slapped him away minutes ago. inside, you were waiting for this.
“mm.. daddy, ah- please, please don’t stop…”
“don’t worry, baby.. daddy’s right here.. your old man’s got you, ‘kay? good girl..”
once he spilled his seed right in your messy pussy, he stuck his fingers in to keep any of it from coming out. made sure to plug it in nice and deep. he straightened your panties out, stuffing them a big into the hole, soaking them with the nice little combination.
the knock rung at the front door, only him being able to perceive it. he helps you up, swiping his thumbs under your eyes to fix up your makeup. your eyes were all loopy, legs shakey. looked like you were high.
“your little boyfriend’s outside babygirl,” he hums, squishing your cheeks between his hands and placing a fat kiss on your lips. “don’t wanna keep him waiting huh?”
he waits to see your head nod. took a minute to comprehend what he even said.
with a little smack on your ass, he sends you off, chuckling a little to himself as you stumble with your pretty heels on.
“hey, and tell him your pops said hi.”
(google doc link)
a/n: not proofread sooooorrrryyy. love this sleazy old man. ask for more nd u shall recieve.
josie after hours: imagine being a tired wife to Jack, who’s more than a little broken and just a biiit toxic. cw manhandling, mocking, pushing, daddy kink!
he gets a call in the middle of your romantic home dinner date, one of the few days off he has. it’s his job asking him to come in early, saying they can ask anyone else, but they know how much he loves to come in, which would be funny any other day.
when you hear dana’s voice through the call, you roll your eyes, knowing what’s already about to happen. you don’t fight to keep your content smile, because as Jack says let me talk it over with my old lady, he’s already got that remorseful look on his face as he looks to the side, that i’m about to watch my beautiful wife’s heart break in front of me face.
you sigh when he finally asks, but you just shrug, grabbing your plate and going to dump it. you don’t fight, or ask him to stay, not like you would usually. and it shocks him.
“really?” “yeah, go ahead.” you’re tucking your hair back as you turn on the sink. “are you sure?? they said they can ask someone—” “i don’t care Jack, that’s what you love to do. do it.” the words shoot through him, and he’s left standing at the table while you’re already making your way to your room.
you married a doctor, so you knew what you were in for. it just doesn’t hurt to have the days you have with him, only be for you. “baby, i won’t go if you don’t want me to. it’s our day.” “it is, isn’t it?” you’re getting ready for your shower, not facing him.
“yes..it is. don’t be like that, if you don’t want me to go then just say that.” “don’t be like that?? jesus jack just fucking go, i said i don’t care. you don’t have to beg for my forgiveness.” i know what i married. “well clearly i do because you won’t look at me, and you’re getting-ready to go to bed.” he grabs you by the sleeve and pushes you back on the bed right as you’re walking past him, the action putting a tear jerking look on jacks face once he sees yours.
you’re hurt, disappointed more than anything. he sees your eyes gloss over as your brows furrow. “i’m getting ready for bed because you’re gonna go anyway. if i said no, you would’ve continued. they need me honey, i won’t be long baby. and then i’ll have no choice but to say yes. you know you’re gonna go-why do this?” you go to stand, but he’s pushing you back down, a little harder this time.
“i’m a doc-they need me there, i can’t just…what-what do you want from me baby? i’ll—” “make it up to you,” you finish with him, which taunts him, making him sigh as you stare up at him. “you’re leaving in the middle of the dinner i cooked. you’re leaving your wife to go to work, on your off day, and that’s fine. i know what i married. i’ll make it up to myself.”
you’re setting him off on purpose, you know you are. you want him to feel bad, you want him to miss out on the pretty (and expensive) lingerie that’s been riding up your ass all day since you’ve been out together. you want him to imagine the sound of your vibrating wand as he head to his car to leave you. the one you’ve been frequenting almost a month now.
“don’t fucking do that, just stop. you’re being mean.” he follows you into the bathroom, catching the door as you attempt to slam the door. “you’re being fucking mean, you’re leaving me. don’t you have to get changed?” you’re taking off your necklaces and rings in the mirror, you’re practically radiating heat with all the anger inside you. he feels it.
“you’re being inconsiderate. you want those people to die? so i can fuck you, right? that’s what it is?” “go fuck yourself Jack. get out, go to work. that’s what you want. would hate for anyone to miss you.” you spit, turning you back to him as you uncomfortably unzip your dress, the view of what he would’ve been missing front and center.
you’ve got a pretty little lavender set on that tied up at the sides, a pretty bow at the middle of your titties, and a lace hem along the straps. all of Jacks buzzer words. he sighs, your eyes on him as you slip the dress down your thighs.
“baby.” “nuh-uh, don’t fuckin’ baby me. and don’t touch me either, you’re going to work. you don’t get this. i’ll make it up to myself.” you bend to turn on the tub but he’s quicker, shutting it back off from over you and forcing you back up by your neck, making you gasp. “don’t tell me what i can’t fucking touch, i bet i paid for this. i’ll do whatever the hell i want.” he grits, pushing you back into your room roughly.
“oh now you wanna stay, now you want those people to die—” “god just shut your fuckin mouth,” he’s forcing your head into the duvet, his tree trunk of a body holding you there as his hand dips between you and him, the rough hand cupping your clad cunt.
“you’re such a fake.” there’s a laugh on his tongue as he shakes his head, he’s got his three thick fingers grabbing at your soaked panties. “you wanna act all mad at me when you want this, you want me to fuck you so bad. yeah, that’s it?”
he unhands your neck as he pulls your panties down to your knees, and you can barely get back up before he’s pushing you back down on your stomach, not that it took much. you’re not overpowering that man. “sit still, so i can give you what you want. you’re so damn needy, know that?” he bullies his fingers into your cunt, getting a loud and high moan out of you, pushing back against his fingers greedily.
“you’re such an-asshole,” you moan as you look back at him, lip tucked between your teeth. “oh i’m sure, n’ i’m soo mean. and i’m a bad husband for not taking care of my wife, clearly.” he taunts, grabbing at your soft ass before landing a harsh smack against it, making you gasp as you lean into his touch.
“never take care of me, just leave me,” you hear his belt rustling behind you, “you leave me for so long, don’t even care bout me anymore daddy.” you mewl, making him smirk as he pulls his hard cock out, stroking the angered, aching thing. “daddy doesn’t care anymore? wouldn’t have that rock on your finger, or that beautiful porsche if daddy didn’t care, babygirl.”
he’s got your hair in his hands, forcing you to hold yourself up on your palms and meet his eyes. “tell me to stay home. say it.” your eyes bounce between his dick and his hardened, yet amused expression. the fact he found this funny almost pissed you off. “stay, Jack. please, just stay wimme. don’t go.” he nods along to your words, eyes on your soaked hole as he pushes his cock inside, biting down on his lip as he watches himself stretch your pussy open.
you let a drawn out moan escape you, your lashes as you meet him, pushing your hips back and burying him inside you. “want me to stay baby? huh?” he grabs at your tummy as he thrusts into you slowly, he’s inches away from your face with your hair still wrapped around his fist. “think you just want this dick baby, ion’ really think you want me to stay.”
he’s milking this in, milking in how you quickly shake your head, brows furrowed as you moan under him. “n-no, no stay daddy, stay wimme. want you to stay!” “yeah?” he lifts his white tee over his abs as he speeds up, it’s hard, deep inside you, just how you like it. Jack knows how to break you down. “want me to stay? not just because this dick is doin’ you so good? cause you miss me, right?”
his huge hand grabs at your right tit, squeezing down lm the soft flesh, getting a hiss out of you. times like this he wishes you carried, so when he’d squeeze he’d get something out of them. “y-yeah, yeah. miss you so much jacky, miss you all the time,” “know you do baby, don’t i know it,” his voice is ragged as he looks down into your eyes, they’re low and lust filled as he jackrabbits into you, a obscene clapping sound coming from between you both.
“you miss this, you miss this dick. miss getting your fill, getting fucked so good you don’t have to think for the rest of the night. missed how deep it is, how it feels sooo good and don’t stop daddy please,” he’s mocking you, his words coming up high and airy to imitate your many words he’s heard more than his own name.
and you can’t even fight back, because it’s true. you truly missed how he would fuck you so good some nights you’d forget where you were. missed that splitting, and almost fearful feeling of him bullying into you and fucking you like there’s no tomorrow.
“say it, say you missed this dick,” his head tips back, yanking your head back as his hand rakes over your spine and up to your bra’s wings, arching you to the nines. “ohmygod Jack, please i-i missed it, missed your dick so bad, y’fuck me soo good,” he’s got a shitty smirk on his face listenjng to you, his breath heaving as his abs clench and spasm.
he barely knows where to look, does he look at your pussy as it drenches his cock, squeezes around him, and makes those juicy little strings of your arousal around him? does he looks at the beautiful, already fucked out face his wife is making, the one where her eyes are barely open, her mouth is slightly parted and her nose is doing that cute little scrunchy thing? or does he look to god for forgiveness, for a plea to heaven because of how sinful he was making one of his sweet lambs behave?
he chooses his second option.
“you’re so goddamn beautiful baby, i wish you could see yourself. god i love you, you know i love you so much,” he shakes his head, lowering you back down to the mattress and hammering his cock into you. the long, deep strokes he sends through you make a cold sweat wash over your body, your clit feels like it’s buzzing off of your body as you open yourself around Jack, feeling your orgasm approach.
“oh Jack, ohmy-Jack don’t stop, don’t fucking stop,” you’re gasping between the slur of words that fly out of you, pulling the sheets closer to your body, your cheek squishing against your hand. he licks his lips in a cocky smirk, his nails making crescents into your hip with how hard he’s holding you, keeping his fiery pace in check to get you to your climax.
“tell me—” “i love you, iloveyou baby i love you so much, don’t stop i’m gunna—” you’re sputtering under him, teeth clenched as your breath heaves. “mhm, cmon. you got it babygirl, don’t let me stop you. let it aaall out for me baby, know you need it,” his eyes roll back, words heavy and throat aching but he just doesn’t shut the fuck up.
you’re coating his cock with your white, sticky release, the ring around his pubes making a nasty squelching sound that doesn’t reach your ears. you’ve got a lazy smile, your teeth sucking your bottom lip as you moan contently. you feel Jack unhand your hair and tuck it behind your ear, eyes big on your sweet face.
“not goin anywhere, kay? just gonna stay in this pussy all night, all goddamn night. gonna stay with my pretty fuckin w..wife..” he sighs before grabbing at the cover above you, fucking into you fast and deep before letting out a shaky and breathy groan, and you feel his cock twitch into you as he finally releases, brows furrowed and his top lip upturned as he takes in the feeling.
“jesus baby, jeeesusss.” he drawls out, huffing and puffing as he pulls off his shirt, the back and pits are drenched. he pulls out of you slow, one hand at your ass cheek to watch his cum seep out of you, giving it a playful smack before rolling you onto you stomach.
“you gonna stay?” you slur as he undresses, and he nods with a sigh. it hurts him how you sound like you’re waiting for him to say no. “yeah, baby. im gonna stay.” he kisses you lightly, an you realize he didn’t kiss you the whole time. you’re not met with a fight when you deepen the kiss, legs spreading to pull him closer, wrapping your hands around his wet and warm neck.
“i miss you all the time, Jack. just want you when i can. please.” “i know baby, i know. you have me.”
nervous to post this bc i have a curse where every time i talk on here abt a wip it never gets finished but uhhhhh i started writing a dark!rafe fic that’s based on the premise of Obsession (2025) and reader is Sarah’s bff who Rafe has an unrequited obsession with crush on
thinking of dark!jack who uses his disability against you…
wc: 1.3k
tags & cw: 18+ MDNI, dddne, obsessive!jack x naive!afab!reader, faking disability pains, dubcon smut?? (jack is rough and reader says it hurts, but also likes it??), rough sex, biting, emotional manipulation, obsessive behaviors, i think that's it but pls tell me if i missed something!, not proofread this is my stream of consciousness...
its starts off innocent enough
you're the sweet little nurse who just transferred to night shift and jack is already smitten with your kind personality and beautiful looks
he’s about 3/4ths through with his double shift he picked up, and his leg is killing him
he’s shifting his weight every few seconds and limping through the halls, trying to power through the last few hours
you can't help but notice his glaringly obvious discomfort and just can't allow yourself to watch him suffer for any longer
“Jack,” your warm voice rings out behind the older man and at first he believes its an acoasm until he turns around and is met with your doe-eyed face.
“Can I show you something in the break room? It’ll only take a minute!”
jack is sure he looks as puzzled as he feels, but he nods in confirmation before limping behind you to the break room.
when you both step into the room, he is greeted with one of the more comfy chairs at a table with another one in front of it and a bottle of vanilla cupcake scented lotion on the table.
“What’s all of this sweetheart?” you shiver at the deep timbre of his voice and Jack has to suppress a smirk.
“I j-just… I noticed that you’ve been having some issues with your leg s-so I just thought maybe I could massage it…? Only if you want me to of course!”
and if Jack’s heart doesn’t just throb in the same rhythm as his aching leg.
“Oh sweetheart, you don’t have to do that for me.” jack pretends to have some semblance of hesitation when in reality he’d love nothing more than to feel your soft hands on his skin.
baby-soft smoothness that has never known hard labor touching the rough skin of what most people find monstrous.
"I want to, Jack" you lean in, smoothing your hand down his sun-spotted arm, “please sit down.”
when you ask in such a honeyed tone, he can’t help but comply.
you sit in front of him and roll up his pants leg, then you gently remove his prosthesis from him. the metal leg is warm from use.
Jack watches as you take the sparkly tube of scented lotion and squirt it on your hands, the smell of artificial cupcake sweetness filling his lungs.
it smells exactly like your everyday aroma (not that that’s something he’s noticed) and it makes his mouth water knowing he’ll smell like you.
you warm the lotion up by rubbing it in your hands before finally beginning to massage where his limb used to be.
jack bites his lip bloody in an effort to hold back the groans that threaten to escape him.
he frantically grasps onto the table to stop himself from shaking and to anyone that comes through that door, the scene would be down right erotic.
"Is this okay?" your voice has dropped to a raspier decibel, and jack can tell that this is turning you on as well.
"Fuck, it's more than okay, sweetheart."
your breath hitches at that and you duck your head down, hyperfocusing on the motions of your hands.
oh, his sweet girl likes to be praised.
after a few more minutes of your soft, supple hands pressing gently into his skin, jack has to stop you before he comes in his scrubs.
for the rest of the shift, you check in on him with soft 'how's your leg doing?' and jack feels like he's won the fucking lottery.
by the end of the night, he asks you on a proper date.
after a few weeks, you're officialy dating and jack has begun to abuse the newfound power of having a disability, not that you've noticed.
for you, you're just overjoyed that he feels comfortable enough to share this side of himself!
so what if you can no longer go to brunch with your friends on the weekend because jack is having phantom pain? of course you'd choose taking care of him!
...or when you have to call out some days when you aren't scheduled together so you can make sure he doesn't slip in the shower. you don't know what you'd do with yourself if he got hurt without you there!
he's also discovered that he likes to play little games with you during sex.
fucking you into the matress, making you shake and sob with every thrust. you're so so close to finishing, heat is flashing all throughout your core until he just... stops
you cry out at the paused stimulation and look up at him with watery eyes.
from this angle, he looks almost god-like.
your god.
"Leg's cramping up, sweet girl," he gives you a pained look and it makes your heart sting to thin he's in pain, little do you know he's dramatizing the hurt.
"i-it's okay! just lay down, baby," you scramble to switch positions with him, sticky arousal leaks out your cunt all over the comforter, "i'll do all the work!"
that's exactly what jack wanted.
he watches as you impale yourself on the thickness of his cock. your brain is already melted into gooey liquid from the hard fucking you were given and it makes you even more cockdrunk than usual.
you let out the sluttliest little mewls as you hump his cock like a mama cat in heat and he can't stop himself from grabbing you roughly to ruin you even more.
he kneads the doughy flesh of your ass, leaving imprints of his hands down to your bones and he pulls you down closer to him before biting the supple skin around your nipple.
"Nnngh! J-Jack!" you can barely open your eyes with the plethora of sensations you're feeling, "th-that hurts!"
he doesn't even try to apologize. he just licks over the bite marks before repeating the process on spit-slick flesh.
you come so hard that you pass out.
jack begins to make it known just how grateful he is for you.
he shares everything with you. from his medication schedule to his pain levels.
it's always accompanied with an 'i don't know what i'd do without you.'
everyone at the hospital is so glad that the two of you are together, thrilled to see how you take care of him so well.
with every praise you receive, jack just feels more and more elated. he chose the right girl. only you could care for him like this.
he makes this well known to you.
"I swear, if something ever happened to you, I wouldn’t make it," he laughs, like it’s a ridiculous thought. only he knows he isn't joking.
on days where you do leave the apartment, jack texts. not constantly, just enough to linger in your mind for the rest of your outing.
Jack: Did you get there okay?
Jack: Let me know when you're on your way back.
Jack: My leg's acting up a little. Nothing bad. Just thought you should know.
one night, you bring up the idea of physical therapy and getting someone more professional to handle his meds.
rage simmer in his bones but he doesn't let it show. he could never be angry at you.
he tells you how therapists 'treat me like a problem to fix.' how they push him too hard, how broken it makes him feel.
"But you," he says, thumb brushing your wrist, voice low and earnest, "you never make me feel like that."
"You’re the only one who really knows how to help me." you're soft and good and so fucking sweet.
all you can do is nod. he's right, you've seen how others treat him as if he's lesser than for having one less limb.
you cuddle into him, nuzzling your face against his chest.
his prosthetic rests on the wall next to the tv stand and as you stare at it you make a mental note to cancel the plans you had with your friends next week.