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samodivaa · 9 months

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Winter Soldier x Asset!Reader You just returned from a mission—you provoke him, but the tension flicks from anger to fevered desire.

Warnings - smut, smut, he hasn't felt arousal for a long time ;)

Words - 2500

❆⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❆⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄❆

Soldat wraps himself in anger, with a dash of annoyance, and at the bottom of it all is an icy center of pure horror—the intensity of this forgotten sensation, not bloodlust—it is pure human lust—his metal hand tightens around your neck.

"I'm sorry. Please, let me go now, please" but the trickling sounds of your pleas makes him feel thirsty for more.

It is not lust or infatuation—this is intoxication, a craven’s craving he can't explain nor control. He looks at your eyes—dainty blend of colors, lips are rosebuds, cheeks have the color of flamboyant flowers. You are Summer, he is Winter.

"Again"

"What-t?" Your voice is bewildering, and yet mysteriously beautiful.

"Beg. Again."

You poorly try to hide your shock. This is an unprecedented turn of events. The programmed machine inside you wants to block that, to scream for help, and the human inside you wants more.

"Please, please, Soldat"

"Fuck…" he mutters.

His eyes are nearly black, the pupils dilated as he pulls away and moves backwards. Winter stays still, but you see a tremor pass through him—as if he is waging a war with himself.

Hydra always plays with his mind, lies to him, but lust is what it is, it never lies—it is real and he feels it, but his apparatus is so rusted that he doesn’t understand what is happening fully.

And it is not only the faculty of love, lust which were sterilized, but also the faculty of imagination—he never imagined that he would do something like that. Now, he involves his mind in the abuse of imagination in erotic matters—fires of lust spring up for the first time and he groans like some baffled prowling beast.

“What is it, Winter?”

He wants to sin with you, to force you to sin with him and to exult with you in sin.

“Soldat?”

He feels the lust’s presence moving irresistibly upon him, a presence subtle and murmurous as a flood filling him wholly with itself.

“I need to touch you, I need—”

A litany. An enchantment. A curse.

He explores you from a distance as he makes several steps backwaters, with his unspoken desire, with the fear that touching you would set him to flame. And you want nothing more in that moment than to prove very much the opposite.

“Do it then”

It's enough for Winter, to hear the soothing whisper of comforting words countering the panic and the frostiness of darkness in his soul.

At that, he makes a harsh, low sound. His eyes exude insinuation and you know it.

You are both alone, surrounded by darkness and silence: and in that moment of supreme tenderness, he starts to transfigure—by his monstrous way of life, this seems—beyond the limits of reality.

He tries to bid his tongue so that he might seem at ease, watching you as you shamelessly undo your dirty cargo pants and shirt.

As he stands silent, watching you undress—you are breathtakingly beautiful as you stand there in the dark, the dim lights letting your skin look ghostly pale. When you make steps towards him, he instinctively tries to make several steps backward, but the wall behind prevents it.

You come over to him and you embrace him gaily and gravely, arms holding him firmly by the waist, his eyes couldn't help, but move down at your cleavage, exposing the flawless skin—dozens of inappropriate thoughts suddenly rushes through his head when you let out a small sigh of frustration.

Seeing his face lifts to yours—serious as he feels the warm, calm rise and fall of your breast.

“Samodiva—”

You suddenly kiss Soldat, his head tilting to meet your mouth, lips warm and mobile as they play against his own in a medley of light brushes and soft nibbles. The kiss lingers, each tantalizing caress is his answer which he is too afraid to say out loud. Gentle, but your kiss becomes deliberately seductive. Settling on his lower lip, you draw it into your mouth and suck at it softly, lips, tongue and teeth working in sensuous harmony as his cock jolts to life and you move your hips closer, framing the hardness.

It is too much for him.

He closes his eyes, surrendering himself to you, body and mind, conscious of nothing in the world but the dark pressure of both your hands and softly parting lips—his flesh shrinking from what it dreads and responds to the stimulus of your touch, his long forgotten sexual needs—purely a reflex action of the nervous system.

You catch yourself staring at the sensual curve of his lips, the impressive cut of his jaw, devouring every part of him with eyes.

And then, weakness, confusion and inexperience fall from him in that moment—your eyes bright with brutish joy meets his—ferocity burns in his gaze promising something primal—your soul shriveled up as he snatches you up around the waist and sits you on the metal table nearby.

You are in his hands—you have to comply.

It is the impatience of the way he tears your panties and bra from your body that really scares you: the lust getting the better of him and you spread your legs wide, exposing your overall and the fragrance of the essences permits in the air, he can smell it.

Reaching out, he grabs your chin

“Have you done this with the others?”

His human fingers dig into the skin, forcing a whimper from your parted lips.

Holding you in place, he awaits for a response

“Yes-s” your voice is quiet, almost lost in the helpless darkness of his presence.

Soldat haltes, blue eyes frosting.

He slams his metal fist down on the table

“I forbid you” he whispers before running the tip of his tongue along your neck, tasting the sweat that has just formed.

There is a stubbornness about you that never can bear to be frightened at the will of the Winter Soldier. Your courage always rises at every attempt to intimidate you, but this time you feel helpless as fear spreads to every part of the body.

The unmistakable flare of jealousy narrows his eyes—there is that infamous control of his hovering on the edge, balancing precariously on the point of a knife, it makes your breath hitch.

The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. He relishes that delicious feeling of freedom, the delirium of being human, his flesh is being born again.

This demon is made for you—his dark eyes and possessiveness have you hooked, his darkness frightens, soothes, but now that darkness is lustful—half god, half hell.

Soldat is a wraithlike observer most of his life, but he takes control for the first time and there is a theatrical quality about all this—he is irreparably damaged, but with your scent filling his nostrils there seems to be a some primitive male instinct as his throat tighten with a hunger he never experienced before—it draws him in deeply, imagining that was how hot sex smells.

“Ти си моя” he says low and quiet and as vicious—his fingers, caressing your tights simultaneously, spreading them further apart.

You feel your heart beat faster, your face flush, and your ire rise, you avoid his cold stare, reeling at his words—you are mine—his hands gripping your hair firmly in a show of dominance, making you face him before Soldat quickly delves into a deep and possessive kiss, his lips are full and warm, soft against yours, but the kiss is hard and desperate.

"If Springtime crawls out of the wild mouths of flowers, then surely, Winter crawls out of mine."

He smirks against your lips when you can't hide your moans, your hands slowly snaking their way around his shoulders, pulling him closer, the intrusive need to be consumed by him.

“Be quiet”

He huffs nonchalantly, stalking closer to lick at the crook of your neck as he runs his hands along your sides, the flesh one stopping just below your breasts—but the metal one flicks your nipple with his thumb as he passes it. He rubs in a slow circular motion as he observes your reactions.

You don’t know when he moves his human hand, but his fingers down to your burning sex, separating your folds and running a thick finger over the slit. He could smell your arousal and knows he needs a taste of you—a groan tears out of his throat.

“Be quiet” you want to mock his own words, but you breathe out heavily and hard as you say them.

You thought he would have a clever reply — something to win, something to shut you up.

In a way, you guess he did.

Your hands tighten on his biceps as he inserts a second finger, your fingernails scrape into him, and the slight pain is pleasurable, knowing he is one giving you pleasure—hypnotized by your velvety moans—you are panting, mouth watering.

You keep your eyes open for as long as you can, hoping that your brainwashed, imperfect memory would capture even just half as much as his.

It suddenly occurred to him he doesn’t know your real name, he wants to call you something.

“Snezinka” His voice is deep and guttural, the word rumbling and vibrating against your neck. It caresses your skin almost sensually

“My snezinka” (snowflake) drawls in a voice too playful for the fear flooding your veins.

You moan quietly again, eyes finally fluttering close as he twists his hand just so, delving two fingers deep within your wet folds below and curling them.

You can feel him: his breath coming down on your neck in heavy, hungry pants, his fingers drawing out teasingly and forcing your hips to buck at the motion. With a hum of pleasure, he lets his fingers slide almost all the way out and his throat tightens at the feel of your channel bearing down, trying to hold on to him as he withdraws completely.

Winter reaches between your bodies and begins to unbuckle his pants. His breathing comes in louder and harder as he tries to control his emotions and movements.

His palm runs along his hardened length, stroking himself slowly—

You suddenly pull him by the straps of his harness and he needs to brace himself using the table on both sides of your body—he grunts at your aggressiveness and strength.

A tentative smile on his lips.

“Snezinka…I was not going anywhere” he taunts and presses his lips to yours.

He looks at you with a vicious smirk, as if he’d won something.

In a way, he supposes he has.

His husky voice reaches a playful tone he hadn't touched on in years, decades—he doesn’t know.

Winter holds his cock by the base of it, running the tip up and down your pussy, making sure to linger around your clit.

Your mouth opens and closes several times, your vocal chords struggle to produce words, but your lips simply move in silence, your hands winding through his hair. You wrap your legs, quivering from fear, sexual yearn at a height you never before felt, around his waist, pulling him to you as he poses and you whine, his head creeping in first before his whole penis is engulfed into your wet sex, your pussy stretching around him, he keeps his descent slow and torturous.

Painfully sweet, he moans—

feeling him impale you onto his cock, stilling in you for a moment so you could feel just how deep he is—enjoying how the metal hand grips your waist tightly.

You are not soft or feminine; you are a hard-edged and cold brainwashed machine, crowned in razor wire of hate. For him, you have always been a flower—he takes your thorns as a challenge. Winter will have you scorch with the savagery of his cruel passions and needs—until you are conditioned to bloom in his flames.

He groans, fucking into you harder now, the head of his cock hitting your cervix as your eyes, water up at the sensation of being so stuffed as he gives you more and more—him fuckin you like that flips your brain inside out and turns your cunt to pudding.

Winter leans near your ear, holding your jaw still, with flesh digits, as he speaks.

“Talk to me, snezinka, how do you feel?” he grunts and you shudder, lips pucker from the grip he has on you as you try to speak.

Gasping for breath, you writhe mindlessly in his grasp, only to find yourself easily restrained—all you can do is tighten your legs around him, trying to usher him to fuck you again.

You are annoyed at his cockyness

That's why you sink your nails into his shoulders, scrabbling for purchase against the fabric, then fisting one hand in his hair. You pull hard on the wet locks, gasping when your violence earns you a particularly hard slam of his hips.

Sin is a lustful state—he actually likes it.

“Do it again” he commands—thrusts grow jerky.

You tug his hair again.

“Солдат-” (Soldat)

And that’s all he needs to hear before he starts ravaging what you’ve just called him—pounding into you, setting an unrelenting pace, clutching him hard as the pleasure spirals up and up.

He hisses, teeth gritting with the sole purpose of making you cum before he does.

The force of his thrusts is making the table quake, but your quiet moans of approval are so satisfying he keeps at it and you starts clenching around him—deliberately massaging his cock, orgasming wordlessly as he continues to fuck you right through it.

He hides his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent sharply as he keeps rutting hard inside of you—your cunt convulsing around him, trying to milk his cock, is making his thrusts sloppy—several incoherent thrusts lead him to come inside, a roar rumbling in his chest.

He wraps his arms around you, and you sink into his chest, marveling at how easy this feels. You both don't accept touch easily, but with him, it seems natural.

Your newfound foundation is rocky, because you make a home in each other’s skin and memory—the damage is beginning to show. You are ready to self-destruct, there is very little left to kill anyway—which makes this tragedy less and more much, much more worse.

What actually led to this situation?

You always help each other undress after the missions, but this time your mind wanderers as you remove the small glove from his metal hand—flashing between images of various memories of killed people and imagined scenarios, you wouldn't have thought of outside of this hazy consciousness—but

Wanting makes the mind restless

He blinks at you, eyes looking perfectly indifferent—and yet, delight in yours; the moment you develop an idea is the exact moment you execute it—you give the hand a squeeze before the chemical desire to taste it overpowers everything in both your mind and body and you bring the fingers to your mouth, dipping two inside

His metal hand is an erotic necessity

—you feverishly lick, drenching them in your saliva, moving your tongue along his fingers all the while.

He suddenly moves, grabbing you by the neck hardly, demanding an explanation.

#his fingers are not a lollipop? who are you talking to right now?#metal arm kink fr #winter soldier smut #winter soldier x asset!reader #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier fic #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x you #smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine

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moraxsthrone · 1 year

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Keeeel I have brainrot ;w;

Just... Zhongli taking care of his little mate after fucking you so good/hard/much that you can't really move much, legs weak, body sore. Him massaging your muscles whispering sweet nothings and nuzzling you, carrying you to the bath and pampering you and you whine a little still sensitive 🥺💕

It's extra asdfchbklj bc you're an adventurer who fights monsters in the regular, go exploring and climbing and sure your body gets a little pushed to the limits once in a while but he, heeeee, Zhongli is the only one who manages to tire you out like this. Drooling and sweating and panting in pure blissful pleasure, legs twitching in the aftershocks of a few too many rounds crying out his name. And he's so proud of himself for being able to leave you like this, sweet and pliant in hazy pleasure (and proud of you too for being so good to him!) his inner dragon purrrs happily against your skin leaving soft kisses.

AFKSFCGVJBJNKL /w\ omggggggg

Just Zhongli fucking you stupid and then providing the sweetest most tender aftercare 😩🥴🥰💕💕💕

crys, my dear, thank you for leaving this precious gem in my ask box. 💛🧡🤎🖤 i saw it this morning and could NOT stop thinking about it all day and THE SECOND i logged off from work i made a MAD DASH to my pc and started typing FURIOUSLY. i needed this so bad! 😩😮‍💨

I AM HERE FOR THE ZHONGLI BRAINROT!!

be warned: nsfw. mdni. x f!reader. rough sex. hair pulling. please let me know if i missed anything, i have a meeting in 8 mins and i'm trying to get this out beforehand bc we've waited long enough.

but also: zhongli provides impeccable aftercare, breathe if you agree

wc: 500+

okay so let's get one thing out of the way: zhongli knows How To Fuck™️

the archon has you on your belly, your thighs pressed together as he straddles them and rides you like a lazy horse. his beautiful cock is coated with your creamy need; he loves to spread your asscheeks apart and watch your swollen hole stretch around his girthy cock. the striations of your slick spread the length of his shaft as his hips slap your ass so hard the wet, rhythmic smacks echo off your bedroom walls.

he’s got your hair wrapped around his glowing fist and you can hear the occasional grunt or deep, aggressive growl coming from behind you as he fucks you harder. you’re panting, crying, whimpering his name; from the corner of your watery eyes you see his arm that’s planted on the mattress next you, sinewy muscles flexing and rippling under his dark, gradient skin. he’s already fucked multiple orgasms out of you and now,

it’s his turn.

zhongli leans forward, hunching over you, his rock hard abs, sticky with sweat, pressing against your back. his pelvis is snapping on sheer instinct, faster now, forcing his engorged cock deeper into your womb where, with one final thrust of his hips, his seed floods your cervix in thick, white spurts. his orgasm is so powerful he can hardly contain his dracontine nature as he fills you with his musk, head thrown back as a guttural roar erupts from his throat.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

your lover's postcoital disposition is in stark contrast to his mating style. your naked, sweaty bodies are pressed together, some of his thick seed dribbling out and coating your still-trembling thighs as he holds you close. with your head tucked neatly under his chin, you're soothed by the steady beat of his heart, grounded by the depth and subtlety of his voice against your ear as he quietly praises and reassures you.

"you are safe, my love," he says, lazily tracing his name on your back with warm fingers. "you did wonderfully, darling. you always do. you are the most precious thing to me. you are beautiful, intelligent, strong, and one of very few people who laugh at my jokes." your soft chuckle fills his heart with warm love because he knows you're okay and that you are with him.

when you're ready, you look up at him and he smooths your hair away from your lovely face so he can get a better look at you. his tired eyes are hooded, darker now that they're not glowing as fiercely.

"what can i do, love? can i get you some water, something to eat? would you like me to fetch the duvet off the floor and wrap you up in it?"

you smile and shake your head no, verbalizing just long enough to say, "just...need to stay close to you, zhong. please just hold me and talk to me?"

"of course, my love," he hums, "whatever you need." he lays his head down next to yours and murmurs sweet, loving everythings into your ear as he nuzzles your hair. you can feel the low timbre of his voice in every fiber of your being, comforting you, and you know that you are safe. you know that you are loved.

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

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starglitterz · 4 months

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♡ 神っぽいな (GOD-ISH)

❝ look down on me behind your mask, but what are you without it? a candle barely burning can't be said to be alive. ❞

✧ feat ; dottore, gn!reader

✧ warning(s) ; toxic relationship between a weirdo and his creation, implied experiments on humans, implied torture, reader is Going Through It, overuse of em dash & italics LOL

✧ a/n ; happy february! i have been Obsessed w this man ever since playing the sumeru archon quest 😵‍💫 idk if this can even be classified as x reader but here we are ! the lyrics i used are from lyrinae's english cover of god-ish (the original is a vocaloid song by pinocchiop) bc i felt like this song rly suits the doctor JSDJKS,,, i hope you all enjoy :) !!

“you disgust me.” you spit the harsh words out, eyes narrowing as you glare at the man (can he even be called a man anymore?) in front of you. “it pains me that my most beautiful creation thinks so lowly of me,” dottore sighs exaggeratedly, bringing one hand up to caress your cheek. the tips of his black gloves are hidden razors, sharp enough to draw blood and that is the sole reason why you don't recoil from his icy touch. yet another addition to the long list of weapons he keeps on his person at all times – the doctor is strangely paranoid for one who claims to be godlike.

you shudder as he leans towards you, breath warm against the skin you fear he’s going to scratch apart as punishment for your insolence. though dottore designed you to be pristine and perfect, you know better than anyone else that he holds no qualms about damaging what he made with his own hands. you doubt he's ever seen you as a person, simply viewing you as a means to an end in his furious quest to ‘enhance’ humanity – and now you represent nothing more than his success.

a smirk curves dottore’s lips, fangs peeking through like a wolf showing its canines as it hunts its prey, “you really are stunning…” he stalks ever closer, trapping you between his arms as your back presses against the cold steel of his operating table. you don't want to go back there. merely being in this room is bringing back a flood of memories so horrible you’re almost trembling – the doctor does not believe in anesthesia, and so you’ve been wide awake every time he carved you open for the sake of ‘improving’ you. “practically a miracle,” he continues admiring his handiwork in a low murmur, tilting his head ever so slightly as he fixes his gaze on you, red eyes gleaming wickedly in the dark. a sardonic smirk mars his features at the thought – how could you be a a gift from the gods when he doesn't even believe in them?

“get away from me.” you hiss, though there's a barely perceptible tremor in your tone – dottore is your creator, after all. it’d be foolish to go against the man who built you when he could just as simply dismantle you. “come now, don't be like that.” he coos, and the sound of his voice grates against your ears like nails on a chalkboard, “i don't bite. at least not without reason.” he chuckles at his own joke, using one finger to tug at his mouth and show off his serrated teeth – they could pierce through your skin so, so easily.

the doctor’s face is mere inches from yours as he whispers, a sadistic smile gracing his lips at your terrified expression, “scared, are you?” you swallow, willing yourself to ignore the question as you suck in a ragged breath, “i haven’t looked at a mirror since you…” you can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence. what word would you even use? after all the time you’ve spent with him, you think you just might be brainwashed enough to say he was simply ameliorating you. “and that is your loss,” dottore chuckles, his hand slipping lower to caress the curve of your neck, his thumb hovering dangerously close to your pulse point, “as i said, you're exquisite.”

you wonder if he can hear your heart beating desperately against your ribcage from fear, then you remember – you don’t have a heart. not anymore. and that makes you even more upset as you hiss, “you ruined me.” for some reason, this strikes a nerve with him, and he grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to meet his eyes. “my darling…” his pupils are dilated, and his laugh is almost manic as he replies, “i made you better than your puny human form could even dream of being.”

“now, you're flawless.” dottore grins, a wild, reckless look in his eyes that reminds you again just how insane he is. “all these years of experiments, of hearing your delicious sobs and pleas…” he pauses for effect, relishing in the stifled whimper that escapes your perfectly crafted mouth as you remember everything he's done to you, “it all culminated in the you that you are now.” “stop.” you beg, but it's worthless now – there's no more bite behind your words, and dottore knows he’s broken you once again. though you've long since realised you will never best him, you still argue with him whenever he brings you to his laboratory, doing your best to fight back with what little mental strength you have left – some part of the doctor wants to cut your pretty head right open to see what's ticking in there and remove the source of your hatred.

but it matters not, for dottore will continue teaching you the same lesson as many times as you need until you get it through your thick skull.

he created you, and you would be nothing without him.

( and if you refuse to grasp this concept, he can always create a new version of you – one that doesn't talk back so much. )

i can Never be normal abt scara or dottore,,, anyways this is one of my favourite pieces that i've ever written, and i really hope that you all like it too ! please do let me know what you think :>

#✏️ — quill writes !#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #zandik x reader #il dottore x reader #dottore #zandik #il dottore #the doctor #fatui harbingers #fatui harbinger #fatui x reader #astronetwrk

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kaaaaaaarf · 18 days

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Chapter 7 of everywhere, everything by @lynxindisguise is up, so I have updated the playlist! I'm going to be real with you, this one made me feel feelings.

Universe 95: Musicians song lyrics and meanings behind the cut (spoilers if you haven't read the chapter!)

+ Through Me (The Flood) by Hozier

Even though this chapter takes place in the 90s, Sirius is very much a Hozier-like musician, singing political songs disguised as love songs. This song felt appropriate.

And he swims on Turning back to shore again Above the outer atmosphere Of a world he's never seen And looking down to his new home He feels the rising of a wave and knows at once He will not weather it Like that man I looked down into the depths when I met you I couldn't measure it Any time I'd struggled on Against the course, out on my own Every time, I'd burn through the world, I'd see That the world, it burns through me But when I'd let go (I'd let go)

+ Thinking About You by Radiohead

A classic 90s song with a dash of longing. I think this one is this universe's Remus during the years before he got with Kingsley and after whatever happened between him and Sirius fizzled out.

Been thinking about you, your records a hit Your eyes are on my wall, your teeth are over there But I'm still no one, and you're not a star What do you care? [...] I've been thinking about you, so how can you sleep? These people aren't your friends, they're paid to kiss your feet They don't know what I know Why should you care, when I'm not there? Been thinking about you, and there's no rest Shit, I still love you, still see you in bed But I'm playing with myself? What do you care when I'm not there?

+ Lover You Should Have Come Over by Jeff Buckley

I couldn't get through the playlist for this chapter without some Jeff Buckley. This is very much Sirius regretting his choices in the past.

Sometimes a man gets carried away When he feels like should be having his fun Much too blind to see the damage he's done Sometimes a man must awake to find that Really he has no one So I'll wait for you, love And I'll burn Will I ever see your sweet return? Oh, will I ever learn? Oh-oh, lover, you should've come over 'Cause it's not too late [...] It's never over My kingdom for a kiss upon her shoulder

+ Your Needs, My Needs by Noah Kahan

Both Sirius and Remus in this chapter seem to have different needs that keep them apart.

Oh well, who was I? Who was I to watch you wilt? You ain't gotta tell me what it means Trace the outlines of your dreams You'll always be a flower on my skin And the pain that I am in It's all the same The losing touch, the waiting game You cross that county line I promise to be there this time, alright? You were a work of art That's the hardest part Howling like dogs in the light of the moon Holding our breath after 1:32 You asked me why I wasn't sayin' a word I'm namin' the stars in the sky after you

+ Lovers In A Dangerous Time by Barenaked Ladies

This one for me is very much original universe Sirius and Remus. It's a cover from the 90s and also features some strings, so I felt it fit very well.

Don't the hours grow shorter as the days go by? We never get to stop and open our eyes One minute you're waiting for the sky to fall And next you're dazzled by the beauty of it all Lovers in a dangerous time [...] When you're lovers in a dangerous time Sometimes you're made to feel as if your love's a crime Nothing worth having comes without some kind of fight Got to kick at the darkness 'til it bleeds daylight

+ The Look You Give That Guy by The Eels

Sirius wants to be in Kingsley's shoes so bad.

I'm nothing like what I'd like to be I'm nothing much I know it's true I lack the style and the pedigree And my chances are so few That look you give that guy I wanna see Looking right at me If I could be that guy Instead of me I'd give you all I got I never thought that I could be so bold To even say these thoughts aloud But if, let's say, it won't work out You know where I can be found

+ Paper Thin Motel by Matt Maltese

I included this cover to honour everyone's new favourite thruple. May Sirius, Kingsley and Remus be happy for many moons.

The walls of this hotel are paper-thin Last night I heard you making love to him The struggle mouth to mouth and limb to limb The grunt of unity when he came in I stood there with my ear against the wall I was not seized by jealousy at all In fact a burden lifted from my soul I heard that love was out of my control

#lynx tag #everywhere everything #playlist #wolfstar #Spotify

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pandoa · 2 years

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"dance with me, your forever"

special circumstances leave you and him twirling across the floor, dancing, elegant and beautiful.

~feat. riddle rosehearts, leona kingscholar, kalim al-asim, and vil schoenheit~ ~twisted wonderland characters x gender neutral reader~

warnings: some cursing in leona's; otherwise, none in particular!

♡show me, your majesty♡

“Are you not familiar with dancing, Prefect?”

Scarlet tresses of hair caught your full attention as the stern second year joined you in your place beside the cafeteria wall. Students of NRC flooded onto the makeshift dance floor, leaving you observing them as you had no experience with swaying to the rhythm of a beat.

“No, I’m afraid not,” you breathed out regrettably.

Hearing your response, Riddle averted his gaze, only to hold out his palm towards your frame in a distinguished manner suited for royalty.

“Then,” he started with a rosy tint gracing his cheeks, “allow me to teach you, if that is something you wish.”

Grateful, you slowly placed a chaste kiss on Riddle’s hand and delicately glanced at his beautiful form with a warmth he had never experienced before. It was…comforting. Like the silence that followed after a long day’s tedious work. Like all the stressors pent up within him had burst into a million pieces of tranquility with just the slight brush of your lips onto his skin.

What was this weakness?

What rule was he expected to abide by in order to keep this newfound emotion?

This feeling had completely and utterly consumed him, he was afraid to admit.

Your next words played like a plethora of melodies to his ears, ready to enchant him with each syllable.

“It would be an honor learning from you, King of Heartslabyul. Please do show me, your majesty.”

♡say one word♡

“Wow, so you really can look like a prince, huh?”

Peering up from your place outside the ballroom, you fixated your words to a dashing young man who had once been your prideful schoolmate. The stranger before you wore a bewitchingly dark tailcoat adorned with golden epaulets over a white, low cut blouse that exposed his well-toned chest. Silver chains hung from his shoulders to his gemstone buttons, effectively creating a refined aura even Vil would approve of. His long, brunette locks were even tied up in a high ponytail using ribbons as black as midnight and somehow fluctuated the intensity of the man’s emerald green eyes. He was simply ethereal.

Was this really Leona??

“Say one word about this, and I strangle your little fireball cat roommate.”

Amused by his hollow threats, you chuckled, a mocking smirk evident in your smile.

“No promises, your highness.”

Growing frustrated at your teasing, Leona was quick in snatching your wrist and pulling you away into the moving crowd and onto the ballroom floor. You see, you two made an agreement. He would stop threatening to eat Grim if you pretended to be his partner at a prissy ball to get Farena off his back about finding a “life-long soulmate” to spend the rest of his time with. Bleh. Seriously. What kind of cheesy crap has his brother been eating?

Although, he was beginning to regret his decision of specifically bringing you here as you never failed to piss him off.

“Ugh, c’mon herbivore, let’s just get this over with so Farena doesn’t get suspicious.”

“Yes, yes,” you rolled your eyes audaciously. “‘Operation: Make Farena Believe Your Single Ass Isn’t Lonely’ is officially in pursuit.”

He glared at your comment with no real ill intent.

“Would you please kindly shut the fuck up?”

And thus, with a little bickering here and there, your dance with the arrogant prince had commenced.

This’ll be interesting, you thought.

♡sway with the oasis♡

Rain poured down on the innocent duo, mesmerizing the two as Kalim blissfully called out to you in a giddy haze. Shifting and shuffling your feet, the both of you had created your own rhythm within the many puddles forming below your feet, hollering like the childish fools in love that you were.

“(Y/n), come and dance with me!” Effervescent laughter filled the air as if it were a joyous melody waiting to be sung. Seizing your attention, Kalim raised your palm onto his and swung your figure balletically to the imaginary music playing in his mind on the desert sand. You originally had come here to watch the boy practice his signature spell; however, those plans were quickly discarded the moment the Scarabia second year had abandoned his practice to pull you into a spontaneous waltz among the raindrops.

It had been whole-heartedly exhilarating.

You hastily yelped in surprise, trying to keep up with his excited movements. “Ah, Kalim! Wait! Slow down!”

The boy in question, growing deaf to your interjections, bubbly twirled you as your damp hair splashed his skin. Suddenly, a new light sensation of your weight being hoisted up by slim arms caused all your worries to fade, the one thing on your mind being Kalim. The view from above had already been quite alluring. But nothing could defeat the wondrous grin of the boy you loved.

Innocent love. That is what it was. An emotion so pristine, it could rival the clear waters of Kalim’s precious unique.

Undeniably, a true lost treasure to cherish.

♡masquerade♡

“Potato,” Vil’s velvet-like voice encapsulated your entire being as you both glided smoothly throughout the finely decorated ballroom. Guests elegantly danced and twirled to their heart's content with their radiant masks concealing their real identities. Euphonious music soared, entrancing each and every one of the guests while successfully pulling them into its harmonies with a dazed-like state.

“I recommend you refrain from keeping your head down whilst you are seen dancing with me. Lest you wish I choose a new dance partner.” Vil’s tone held its usual strictness, but you couldn’t help but notice a twinge of patience not normally seen within the perfectionist housewarden.

“Sorry,” you winced, “I was just worried I would step on your feet, so I started looking down on the ground to make sure I wouldn’t.” God, that was embarrassing to admit.

Sighing at your logic, the young actor proceeded to hold you closer and lifted your chin up to face him.

“You only need to trust yourself,” he declared. “This place, despite being a masquerade-themed ball, is still filled to the brim with people who do recognize me. Do not tarnish my reputation with your self-doubting mindset.”

His words, although quite rough, were said with a certain softness, you could not help but hold onto every word uttered from his ruby colored lips. Like the poison to a luscious apple, one might say. Truly, he was indeed correct. Doubt would never lead you to good fortune. You had to have faith in your abilities.

Seeing as you were in higher spirits, Vil adjusted your posture and continued to whirl you in a poised pirouette, letting a gentle breeze brush against your (h/c) hair.

The heavenly night had only just begun.

a/n: phantom bride event has still got me shamelessly brainrotting omg

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #kalim al asim #kalim x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #gender neutral reader #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #♢the scribe♢

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dabilove27 · 2 years

Text

Paring: Shuji Hanma x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (MDNI)

Word Count: 5.9K

Warnings: Dark content, All characters depicted 18+, Hanma is a jerk, a hint of Yandere, noncon, nonconsensual somnophilia, explicit sexual content, oral (F!receiving), unprotected sex, cursing, reader is a bit spoiled, drugging, pet names (love, babe, baby, little one), smoking, alcohol. Please let me know if I missed any!

Summary: After ten dates Hanma is sick of waiting for his prize. His chase is almost done and he's about to devour you.

a/n: hello hello! Thank you for taking the time to read! This is my submission for downtown-roppongi's dine and dash collab! Check out the masterlist! Thank you so much to my wife @lady-lunaaa for reading this through and cheering me on! love you! PLEASE read the warnings before continuing to read!

Ten. This is the tenth fucking date Hanma is taking you on. And you haven't let him anywhere near the bedroom. And while he liked taking his time, savoring his prize once he finally succeeded–Shuji Hanma was not a patient man.

He thought three dates was a bit excessive, and you still hadn't even given him the satisfaction of a kiss. But you kept saying yes every time he asked you out, so you had to be into him somewhat, right?

Even if you weren't into him, he decided from that very first moment that you were his, and he would have you, no matter how hard he had to try. Maybe it's because you made him chase so much. Maybe that was the reason he couldn’t tear himself away from you. Whereas in the past, he would've dropped a girl by now if she wasn't putting out yet. Call him a prick, a jerk, an asshole, call him whatever you want, but he wasn't going to apologize for enjoying himself. And he knew–just fucking knew he had to have you the moment he saw you in that cafe

It had been a light spring day when he encountered you in that little coffee shop that he decided to visit to get a pick-me-up after a long night out. It was typical and predictable like any other shop–slow jazzy music wafting from the speakers, the smell of freshly brewed coffee covering every inch, and young baristas hustling to make drinks. But then, like a deer in headlights, he came to a complete stop when he saw you, curled up on one of the oversized lounge chairs, your nose pressed into a book.

He couldn't help taking every inch of you in, though. Beautiful legs curled up beneath you. His mind instantly traveled to how they would feel if wrapped around his hips. His eyes raked to the tiny white shorts that rode up your thighs from how you were sitting, showing more skin than you probably intended. A light pink t-shirt fit comfortably on you, but he wished you wore something more revealing so he could flood his imagination with every aspect of you.

At that moment, he knew he had to have you. The thought of you lying beneath him blissed-out, soft lips open in a pant, infiltrated every part of his mind. And so, without hesitation, he approached you–like a predator stalking his prey. You didn't even snap away from your reading until he was towering above you and cleared his throat.

The way your eyes darted up to him, all doe-eyed and shocked out of the little world you were in, set every nerve inside him on fire. You were perfect, every single bit of you.

Hanma fell instantly into a persona he pulled off well, charming, interested, and funny. A little bit of small talk, some compliments, and a joke later, he had your number and promised he would text you to meet up for coffee sometime.

He left that date feeling high and like he was on top of the world. But he didn't expect how hard you would make him work to achieve all those dirty fantasies running through his brain.

And that's how he ended up here, on date number ten. He left every date with blue balls. Images of you haunted his thoughts every night– your pouty lips choking on his cock or how tight your cunt would clench around him when he finally made you cum for him. The nightly images were driving him mad. He wanted you so bad, there was something about you that he couldn't just give up. He had to taste you first.

So far, he's suffered through nine excruciating dates with only as much as a peck on the cheek for his troubles. He had already decided by the end of this date it was happening. No wasn't an answer he would accept by the night's end.

Hanma pulled out all the stops to seal the deal, booking a room for you in a prestigious hotel in Tokyo with a renowned restaurant. Both filled with rave reviews. It had cost him a pretty penny, but he had to have you. He couldn't spend another night fucking his fist pretending it was you. So whether you liked it or not, you were spending the night with him.

Hanma waited in front of your apartment building; as the afternoon set into early evening, the sky was filled with light oranges and yellows. You never let him in your apartment either, a thought that enraged him if he spent too long focusing on it. He had spent a lot of money and time on you over the past dates; the least you could do was invite him up. But you never did, always laughing nervously and telling him your roommate wouldn't appreciate an unannounced guest.

So that's why he chose a hotel; because he knew you wanted this, he was sure. He could see it in your coy smile and how your hand traced over his tattoos. You wouldn't keep saying yes to dates if you didn't want this. Right?

Hanma is brought out of his thoughts by the absolutely sinful image of you slowly stepping down the stairs from your apartment. And this, your outfit just confirms how much you want him to ravish every inch of you. You wouldn't wear that if you didn't want him to look and lust after you. It's a tiny piece of blue fabric that shouldn't even be called a dress because of the way it lays on your body. The deep V gives an expansive view of your cleavage that Hanma wishes was a view only for himself and not one you were going to show in public. The bottom of the dress hits high on your thighs; it would be a whole show if you had to bend over. And paired with matching tall blue heels, you looked like complete and utter sex personified.

Hanma feels blood rush to his groin as he takes you in. Just like every single date, you never hesitated to show skin–always flaunting your curves. He just didn't understand why you wouldn't let him in, wouldn't let him have a taste of what you were teasing. He felt like a child being punished in a candy shop.

But he doesn't dwell on that too long; if he does, the anger will eat him alive, and he needs to try and make this night go as smoothly as possible. So he plasters on a smile and turns on the charm. Cooing in a sweet, sultry tone telling you how beautiful you are. He doesn't miss the way you shy away, avoiding eye contact, a nervous chuckle–it's so cute it sends another rush of blood to his dick. It was only a matter of time until he had you writhing under him, that shy look dissolved into pleasure as he pounds into your tight cunt. Hanma has to snap himself away from those thoughts quickly. They would only distract him from actually achieving his goal.

He wanted to try and do this the right way, the sensible way, before resorting to plan b. You gingerly take his arm, and he's caught up again in the feel of your soft skin and the clean but light smell of you. You drive him fucking insane. It takes every ounce of control to not move a hand to grip your ass as he opens the passenger door to his car and watches you slide in, and more of your skin peeks out from under your dress.

The drive to the hotel is calm and boring by Hanma's standards. The two of you talk about your week. You bring up how some asshole at your job tried to ask you on a date without even bothering to pull his eyes away from your breasts. Hanma can't blame the poor sap though you've got a fantastic pair of tits. But it sends a surge of rage through him thinking about another man even laying eyes on you. His hands grip the steering wheel tighter at the thought. Whether you knew it or not, you were his. And he would decide when to let you go.

The two of you arrive at the sprawling hotel in the heart of Tokyo. Hanma quickly pulls his car up to the hotel and stops in front of the valet booth. He doesn't miss how the young man attending the booth can’t rip his eyes away from you as he opens your door to let you out. He would've knocked the kid on his ass if he wasn't trying to impress you.

But instead, he takes a deep breath and tries to chase away those thoughts. His golden eyes watch you like a hawk, in awe of your beauty. You’re graceful even in those heels as you stare in awe at the immaculate entry way. The marble accents, the glass doors, and the high ceiling of the entrance to the hotel screams high class.

"You didn't tell me we were coming to a hotel, Shuji," you turn to him, your voice coy and a playful smile across your face.

Hanma knew very well that you liked to be spoiled. Almost every date you showed excitement and giddiness when he bought you the best wine off the menu or took you to the most expensive destinations. You were a spoiled brat, but that didn't stop him from pursuing you; it made him want you more. He couldn't wait until he had that brat begging for his cock, to know who had control of this relationship.

"They have a restaurant on the thirty-first floor, my love," He responds sweetly. He knew what you were alluding to in your earlier question; you wanted to be wined and dined but would never say that aloud. But you would surely throw a fit if that didn’t happen. Hanma places one of his large hands on the small of your back, "Only the best for you."

You let out a little squeak as he guides you to the pristine elevator, complete with a window to watch the view of Tokyo as you ascend. The two of you step in and take the long ride up to the floor with the restaurant. As the elevator ascends you lean forward to gaze outside the window, standing close enough to him that your ass brushes against the front of his black dress pants. And all he wants to do is take you to that room he had checked into earlier today and fuck your brains out. You had to know, right? You had to know your ass was rubbing against his dick. You weren't stupid, but fuck, you were a tease. And it was driving him up the goddamn wall.

Hanma lets out a thankful sigh of relief when the elevator lets out a little ding indicating it's reached its destination. One more moment with you pressed against him, and there would be no dinner. He didn’t care anymore, he would take you right there, pressed up against the glass for all of Tokyo to see.

But that had to wait until after giving you an extravagant dinner; he would get his reward, just a bit longer, and every moment would be worth it. The two of you sauntered into the restaurant; the table that he had already booked sat completely made up in the private dining area next to a large window where you could look across the skyline. He would have never done this for any other date, none of them had ever caught his interest long enough; but there was something about you that just kept calling to him. He kept chalking it up to the chase, you always made him chase you like no other had before.

Dinner goes off without a hitch like most of your dates do. The two of you feast on fresh sushi and make idle chatter. You've drunk a fair amount of wine, and he can tell you’re teetering on that tipsy edge. Your eyes are lidded, and a lazy smile is permanently plastered on your face. Hanma hopes that will make you more willing for tonight's activities, he lets you order as much wine as you want to help move things along. Everything about this place, the food, the drinks, the price tag he picked with you in mind. Anything to get you to say yes to his tenth attempt to bed you.

He watches like a wolf to an unsuspecting lamb as you finish your last bite of sushi. His eyes follow the swallow of your slender throat, and he feels his mouth start to water at all those things he could do with your throat.

"This was so good, Shuji! We should come here again!" You chirp as you daintily tap the sides of your lips with the black linen napkin.

Hanma doesn't fucking care that you want to come here again; all he wants is to lay tangled in the soft thread count of the hotel sheets with you. But he had to play this carefully, had to make sure you were in the best mood possible. "I'm glad you enjoyed it, babe," he takes a breath before extending his offer, knowing that if you said no, he was moving forward with his alternative plan. "I booked us a room here tonight as an extra surprise for you." He folds his hand under his chin and smiles at you, watching your movements carefully, waiting for your response.

And he knows that the moment your face falls from that happy tipsy face to a frown, that you’re about to turn him down. He can feel the anger bubble up before you even open your mouth. He can't stop the involuntary way his tongue moves out to wet his lips, a nervous gesture he’s had since childhood.

"Ohhh Shuji, I'm exhausted; I'm sorry, you should try to get your money back!" Your words are slurred from the alcohol as you try to console him; he knows you're being genuine; you probably are really sorry, but all he can hear is the denial, the tenth denial. After all the teasing and everything he’s done for you to make sure this night is perfect, you still turn him down. What a fucking insult.

He reels in that anger quickly and covers his disappointment with a happy mask "Sure, babe, why don't you head to the bathroom while I call the front desk," he keeps his voice even as he watches you nod and tells him that's a good idea. You wobble slightly on your way to the back of the restaurant where the bathrooms are located, and he knows it will be a bit until you return with you being that inebriated.

He has to act quickly, though, before you come back. Sliding his hand into the pocket of his suit jacket he produces a tiny vial of clear liquid. Hanma really hated this was the way it had to go; he wanted you willing and pliant beneath him, but this would have to do because he wasn't taking you on another date, not until he got what he rightfully deserved. It was time for you to chase him now. He swiftly removes the little rubber cap, drops the contents into your mostly untouched water, and then stirs it in with your straw.

He is placing the vile back in his suit pocket when you arrive back at the table. "They haven't brought the check yet?" you ask, a bit of annoyance in your voice as you take your seat.

"Not yet, my love. Why don't you have some water?" His voice is steady and calm, as his eyes hold your gaze.

You smile at him, reaching out to pick up the glass. It's cool and wet from the condensation in your palm but feels good against your heated skin. The alcohol has made you warmer, so you welcome the cool liquid as you greedily sip it through your straw. You were thirstier than you had initially thought because, within a few seconds, all that was left were a few halves of melted ice cubes sitting at the bottom of the glass.

Hanma watches as you finish the glass and then set it back on the table with a tiny clink. Next step is to get you to the hotel room, luckily he had already planned each step down to the smallest detail. He knew you'd follow him up like a little puppy when he tells you he is going to grab his things and check out now if they weren’t going to stay the night. "It would be a pain to battle traffic here again," he says calmly as he helps you out of your chair. You slur an agreement at him as you try to get up.

The drug starts to affect you as you sway into his hold. It won't be long until you can't keep your eyes open. Hanma wraps an arm around your waist, the fabric of your dress brushing against his skin. He can't wait to get it off you and see every inch of you. Just a little while longer and then all of you will be his. But he has to make it to the room with you upwards so he doesn’t raise suspicion.

He’s able to pass the two of you as a loving couple eager to maintain physical contact with each other as he walks with you out of the restaurant. He flashes a smile at the unsuspecting waitress and continues to gently walk you forward until the two of you reach the elevator.

His adrenaline has started pumping through his veins, he presses the up button a few times, smooth marble cool against his finger. Luckily for him, no one else was on the elevator when it dinged to let them know it had arrived. He was sure he could explain that you weren’t feeling well but he’s glad he didn’t have to go through the trouble.

He guides you gently into the elevator, careful not to let you stumble in your too-tall heels. Your warm, soft skin is pressed against his side as you struggle to keep your eyes open. "Shuji, I'm tired," you murmur, your eyes closed for a fraction of a second as you wobble and then snap open only for them to slowly start sinking again.

"I know, baby, I know," he comforts you while rubbing one of his tattooed hands up and down your back. Hanma supposes he should feel guilty, trying to comfort you when he was about to do the opposite once he had you in that hotel room. But the ding of the elevator announcing your arrival snaps him out of his thoughts. Besides he had already treated you well ten times now. You can hardly hold up your weight at this point, the drug coursing through your body, pulling you deeper and deeper to unconsciousness.

Hanma has to hold his grip tightly on your hip so that you don't fall face-first into the ground. He thanks whatever deities are out there that the long hallway is empty as he pulls the key card from his pocket and waves it against the scanner on the door. The door lets out a little beep, and the lock coming undone penetrates the hallway's silence.

It's a delicate dance trying to gently move you through the doorway without completely letting go of your loose body. The door almost catches one of his legs between it and the frame, but he maneuvers quickly at the last second to avoid a nasty bruise.

The hotel room is standard, with a bathroom at the front and a short hallway leading to a king-sized bed, two night tables nestled on either side, a desk against the wall under a large mirror, and a set of drawers directly across from the bed. He lowers you slowly to the bed, and you fall into the white soft down-comforter without any resistance. Your body is like gelatin now, limbs wobbly and feeling as if they are miles away. Hanma heads into the bathroom to relieve himself; now that he's confident you aren't going anywhere.

A heaviness settles over you, and you can't keep your eyes open for a moment longer. Maybe if you just close them for a moment, you'll feel better. That's the last thought you have before drifting off into a deep drug-induced sleep. A few moments later, Hanma emerges from the ensuite bathroom to find your sleeping form sprawled along the bed.

His eyes wash over your curves, and he can't believe he's about to get precisely what he's been waiting for for so long. The anticipation in the room is palpable. Your dress had ridden even higher on your thighs, your lacy red thong peeking out below. Even more, evidence to show how badly you truly wanted this.

Hanma gently approaches your sleeping form and allows himself to touch your soft skin. Fingers graze the smooth skin of your cheeks. Gingerly he picks up one of your limp hands and watches as it drops like lead once he lets go.

A sigh of relief comes from knowing you are knocked out; he knew you'd be pissed if you woke up and saw him so close and yourself in such a disheveled state. But for now you were all his, he didn’t have to worry about you waking up anytime soon.

This time, a little less gently, he pulls your limp body to the top of the bed and places your head on the plush pillows. He is able to access every part of you from this angle and doesn’t have to worry about your body falling off of the bed.

His eyes gloss over your plump lips, spread just slightly, and he can't stop himself from placing a soft kiss on them. The two of you had had quick kisses before but never anything intimate like this. Your lipstick was already smudged from eating, but his kiss left it even more of a mess, and he knew its evidence would probably be staining his own lips. He can't stop his palms from tracing your curves. He's only had quick touches before this, never enough time to fully appreciate every part of your body. To fully indulge in all of you.

But your soft lips silently call him again, and he can't stop himself from placing more kisses on them. The kisses become rougher as he goes on, his excitement getting the best of him as he cups your jaw in one of his large hands–so fragile beneath his fingers. His tongue snakes its way into your mouth while his hand holds your jaw, so you don't accidentally bite him in your sleep. You taste like the wine from dinner and something he can't explain that's so specifically you. God, he could get drunk on just the taste of you.

Anticipation of what's to come rises up inside of him, and he pulls away from the kiss to figure out how he’s going to take your dress off. Impatience gets the best of him, and he ends up tearing the fabric right down the middle where the V was resting perfectly between your beautiful breasts.

Laying before him in the ruined outfit, he can't help but feel like you're his trophy, his prize for trying so hard; for treating you so well, perfectly splayed out and ready for the taking. A ferocious need to take you overcomes him, and he finds himself attacking your neck with harsh bites and sucks. He wants you to wake up, see the bruises, and know that you fully submitted to him even if that wasn't your plan.

Hanma continued his journey down your body, leaving little love marks as he went along. He finally reaches your breasts, always covered before, but always taunting him with glimpses of your cleavage. But now, seeing them free of their confines, nipples pert due to the cold air in the room. They were beyond perfect, everything he could have imagined and more. After taking a moment to truly admire how stunning your body was, he latches onto one of your breasts, pulling your nipple into his mouth as he sucks on it. His other hand is busy with your other breast, pinching and pulling at your hardened nipple. Under him, you let out little moans and whines. The sounds he had only been able to imagine up until now were like a symphony to his ears.

Hanma didn't want to spend forever on your breasts, even though he knew he could. After giving them ample attention, he sits back; a sense of pride flows through him as he takes in each little mark adorning your skin. You look even more beautiful to him all marked up. He leans down to place another chaste kiss on your lips before moving to your panties.

The sense of satisfaction surges through him when he sees how they cling to your folds, a dark wet spot already soaking through. The sight gave him a high better than any drug.

"I knew you wanted this from the very start, you acted all coy but look at you now, soaking wet, and I've hardly touched you," his lustful voice fills the room's silence. "But fuck, I wish you were awake to experience every part of this."

You let out a quiet moan as his hand dips below your thong and circles your aching clit. He knows you were waiting for him to finally reach this part of you. His golden eyes watch every movement of your face, eyes screwed shut and little whimpers coming from your parted kiss-swollen lips. He can’t help himself; he was ravenous for another taste of you as he captures your lips in a heated kiss.

His fingers move faster on your swollen little bud, but he restrains himself before you fall over the edge. He has other places he wants you to cum. Another soft whine comes from your lips as he pulls his fingers away.

"My needy little one, don't you worry. There's more to come."

Hanma reaches down and pulls off your soaked thong, mouth-watering when he feels how wet they are. His large tattooed hands grip the soft skin of your thighs as he coaxes your legs apart. Settling your knees on his shoulder he presses his body against yours.

And like a starved man, he dives face first into your core unabashedly. The little whines and mewls falling from your lips only push him forward.

The taste of you is better than he ever could have dreamed. He would stay here forever between your thighs, tongue lapping at your juices. But he was limited on time; maybe he could spend a day in bed with you in the future–eating you out until you screamed. One of his large hands was on your hip, and he was delighted as he felt you wriggle beneath his palm with every long lick.

He could tell that you wanted more of him; you wanted all of him.

Continued mewls of pleasure spill from your lips, an angel singing to him. The hand that wasn't on your hip squeezes tightly to your thigh, leaving finger imprints in their wake. His other hand moved from your writhing hips to the little bundle of nerves aching for his touch. He rubs you in tight, fast circles as he continues to fuck you with his tongue.

Hanma knows your orgasm was approaching quickly by the way you were moving more desperately below him, thighs clenching around his head. In a split second, he decides that he wants to make you cum on his tongue. His hand moves quickly away from your clit and pulls your other thigh away from his head as he fills you with his tongue. And all at once, you’re quivering, shaking beneath him. He continues to lap at you languidly as your juices cover his tongue. Golden eyes watch your expression, taking in every change so that he can commit it to memory. Your body goes limp below him again, but he's absolutely high on your taste and can't stop himself from lapping more of you up.

After his fill, he pushes himself off the bed to take all of you in. Your face is serene now as you lay in post-orgasmic slumber, but your body is littered with marks from his fingerprints, hickeys, and bite marks that send a sense of satisfaction through him. But the best part of evidence that was left on you was your soaked cunt, wetness glimmering in the room's low light.

The sight causes more blood to rush straight to his dick, already aching to be freed. He had to have you now. He quickly pulls off his dress shirt and unbuttons his slacks. Left in only his underwear, he gives you another kiss, short but he still manages to press his tongue into your mouth, hoping that you’ll be able to taste yourself when you wake up. His member is aching to be freed from its confines, as he schucks off his black underwear.

He runs two long fingers across your glistening slit to collect some of your essence. Hanma was obsessed with the idea of you tasting yourself when you woke up and he wants to make sure it happens.

Those fingers work their way into your mouth to coat your tongue with the transferred juices. Hanma is smiling sadistically above you as he shoves the digits deeper into your warm mouth. But he needed to get on to the main event.

Every moment he feels himself getting harder, the tip of his member an angry red color. He situates himself between your thighs, slowly rutting against your wet lower lips. A moan escapes him as his tip meets the heat of you. Opening your lips with two of his fingers, he swears he could orgasm on sight, seeing how your hole clenches around nothing. Hanma situates you by slinging your ankles over his broad shoulders.

Every moment had led up to this. Where Hanma would finally get his prize after waiting so long, after treating you so well, and after chasing so hard. He finally is able to fully sink into your warm heat, and it was more heavenly than he could ever have imagined. The sound escaping from his lips was gruff, coming from deep in his chest. You were warmer, softer, and wetter than any of his many fantasies. He couldn't stop his head dropping to your shoulder from the overwhelming feeling of it all, his black and blonde bangs brushing your skin.

He felt your unconscious body clench around his member, urging him to move again. After a few gentle thrusts, he builds up a punishing rhythm, each movement harder and faster than the last.

Nothing he has ever seen compares to the beauty of how you look being fucked. Tits bouncing in time with Hanma's thrusts, parted lips, letting out sounds little whimpers, and your face caught between a mix of serene and pain. God, he wishes he thought to record you, to have this in his possession forever. But maybe he would have that in the future when you come crawling back to him.

He could tell that both of you were close, though; his rhythm became lax with each tighter clench from your pussy. But he wants to feel the two of you climax simultaneously, to feel you milking his leaking cock as it releases into your womb.

He had to get deeper, and had to feel you even more. Hanma pushes your legs to your chest as a soft grunt falls from your lips and he continues to slam into you. With this new position, the tip of his cock kisses your cervix with each thrust.

Your tight heat is wrapped around him, sucking him back in greedily. He knows you’re just at the tipping point, and he brings his gaze back to your face to see your expression when you orgasm. "Come on, baby, cum for me," He growls out, pushing as deep as he possibly could.

And like the good girl you were, you cum hard, snapping that tight coil inside you and bringing a wave of pleasure crashing behind it.

Hanma continues to fuck you through your orgasm, loving how your pussy clenchs and holds onto his cock. And not long after, he’s jumping off that ledge of pleasure, hot thick spurts of cum painting your plush walls. Hanma is panting heavily, trying to come down from his high.

No sex that he had ever had before compared to this. You were perfect for him. Made for him. And this only proved it even more. The way you held onto him and milked him, there’s no way you were meant for anyone else. He’s reluctant to leave your glorious heat but knows he has to. Pulling with a hiss but he’s delighted to see the mixture of cum seeping out of your aching hole. He leans up to give you one last quick kiss, a goodbye for now. He scribbles a quick note on the hotel notepad on the nightstand–call me adorned with a little heart.

Still going off of his high, he moves you under the comforter and begins to gather his clothes. Slowly dressing, he tucks himself back into his boxers and slips on his dress pants. And finally, puts his dress shirt back on before going to the bathroom to run his hand through his post-sex hair and fix it before leaving the room.

He looks at your slumbering body before stepping out the hotel room door and slipping the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the handle. Like a cat who had just caught a mouse, he struts proudly towards the elevators. He can't stop thinking about your perfect body the whole ride down. The little sounds that graced his ears when you came under him ring in his ears.

The loud ding announcing his arrival on the ground floor snaps his mind out of the thoughts that weigh heavily in his mind. But he doesn't let his composure slip as he waltzes out the glass entrance doors and hands his valet ticket to the young boy still working the counter.

As he waits, he pulls out the small rectangular pack in his pocket and a single slim stick–his other vice, besides you. He lights it effortlessly and takes a long drag, savoring the nicotine hit. As his car pulls up and the keys are given to him, he allows himself one last glance to the tall hotel, wondering when you’ll wake up and how long it will take you to reach out. A thrill rushes him at the thought, at you begging for him to come to you this time. Let the real chase begin. Is the last thing that crosses his mind as he speeds back home.

Thanks for reading!

#hanma shuji x reader #hanma x reader #shuji hanma x reader #hanma smut #hanma x you #hanma shuji x you #tokyo revengers fanfic #tr fanfic #my writing #rach writes #the chase #downtown roppongi dine and dash collab #dine and dash collab #tw noncon #tw drugging #tw alcohol #tw smoking #tw somnophilia

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moonlightjeno · 2 years

Text

[ 6:32 pm ] the sun is a bruise in the sky covered by the gray clouds that fan around it. The music flooding in through your headphones has you humming along, words formed on your lips but never spoken. And the thought has you thinking only slightly about a certain boy that you saw in your class today.

Thinking about the class that had you dozing off to sleep except on tuesdays, because he would also be there as a teacher’s assistant. Jeno’s overwhelming love and passion for the subject had you mesmerized if you thought for only five minutes on the topic too. And you promised you tried to be more invested in the words and information that came out of his mouth and not on the way his eyes would get lighter when he got excited about the way a vein drains into another or the wink he would send your way when the rest of your class had fallen half asleep for the second half of the class.

The thoughts keep you warm on the cold spring afternoon, the bruises in the sky blossoming behind you as you make your way back home, cold wind snapping at your face. Your own world, filled with thoughts of classes you couldn’t wait to be done with, melodies that filled your soul and a boy with warm eyes that filled your heart. A world that keeps you distracted until a voice calls out your name for the tenth time (nine of which you had not realized) and you’ve spun around almost crashing into the boy behind - now in front - of you.

He’s painted in hues of orange and gold, dashes of pink in the light that descends from the sun and it’s almost breathtaking until he’s pulling you in arms wrapped around yours in warmth. The varsity jacket, worn out over the year, is soft against your skin and you want to stay trapped in the moment. Arms wrapped around each other, the ends of his hair tickling your cheek. Safe. warm. Comfortable. That’s what it felt like to be in his arms.

The lingering strips of color in the sky threaten to leave, as Jeno breaks away from the hug. Soft smile is ever present on his face as he asks you about your day, if he did a good job teaching and if you needed any help with today’s topic. He’d noticed you weren't the biggest fan of the topic, something you’d profusely tried to decline to no avail. But his faint smile never left, eyes so warm that if you didn’t think too much about it you would just stare at wondering all of life’s possibilities in regards to Jeno.

A moment, slipping between your fingertips the way water weaves its way through cracks in the road after a rainstorm. Moments between two strangers who aren’t quite strangers anymore, who share gazes they don’t understand. Things that seem so tangible, like the way his lips felt against your forehead, the way his arms felt around your waist and your around his neck, tangling in his outgrown hair.

He'd been wanting to cut it for hockey for a while now, but that resolution had left his mind when you wrapped a finger on a black curl during a stolen moment in the movie theater. And then you’d told him how much you’d loved the light curls that would come when his hair would grow out and jeno had canceled any sort of appointment - one he’d had jaemin make honestly - in regards to hair cutting. And when your phone buzzes in your back pocket an incoming call from your older brother “worlds best brother” - name placed by haechan himself - reality crashes back into you.

The moment shatters, the sky no longer in its beautiful hues and this time the bruised sky dark purple forming over the clouds follow the two of you in your opposite paths back home. Each with a heart reflecting the sky.

#jeno imagines #jeno scenerios #nct dream imagines #jeno scnerios #nct dream jeno #jeno lee #nct dream scenerios #jeno angst #jeno fluff #jeno x reader #w: complete mess

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swagtigertyphoon · 1 year

Text

Loosing control

Wednesday Addams x vampire!reader

warnings: biting, blood drinking, reader being dangerous and slight fluff

Never had you ever thought you would be in love with THE Wednesday Addams. The hero of Nevermore, who brought down Laurel gates and the Hyde (with a little help from a certain werewolf and the Nightshades)

It had been a year. A year since it had all happened and six months since you joined Nevermore. You sat next to Wednesday in Anatomy and while she found your excessive need to talk to her frustrating, she soon found comfort in your voice. That developed into something more surprisingly quickly. You told her about you lack of control. Warned her of the high risks of dating such a dangerous vampire.

Her own twisted love of pain is what ended up with you drinking from her. Twice. The first time, you lost all control, draining her at an alarming rate, almost killing her. Thing had to literally tear you from throat, only to be told to do it again. Which you had to refuse. The second time, you had been attacked by a hunter (who Wednesday disposed of). The guy had left you to bleed out in the woods just outside of Nevermore. It was her blood that healed you, and in that moment. With her blood still fresh on your lips. You both kissed. It was beautiful, even in the freezing night air with the hunters dead body beside you.

A month later. You are sitting beside Enid on her bed. The bubbly werewolf asking you about homework while you waited for Wednesday to return from her outing into Jericho to buy more books. Enid was complaining about her teacher, going on and on about how rude she was when the werewolf suddenly turned to you and said:

“Wednesday really loves you, you know that right.”

Enid’s words are a sudden and you snap your head in her direction.

“What?”

you ask, both confused at her words and surprised she knew about the relationship between; you and her roommate, Considering you and Wednesday kept your relationship behind closed door.

“I saw the bite marks on her neck one night and figured, only one vampire could of made those.”

she beams at you, but her words had flicked something hidden deep inside of you. A sudden thirst hit you hard as you thought of biting someone. Biting Wednesday. Drinking someone’s blood. And there was someone right next to you, blood pumping warm and fresh inches away.

“Hey, y/n? You ok?”

Enid places a gentle hand on your shoulder, the warmth of the blood beneath her skin is enough to send you into a desperate bloodlust. You grab her by the throat, pinning her against the wall so suddenly that she has no time to fight back. With one arm, you hold down her shoulder and with the other, you roughly jerk her head to the side, exposing her throat. The sight of the girls jugular is enough to make your mouth water uncontrollably.

“Y/n!”

a voice yells followed by the sound of something heavy dropping onto the floor. You lunge at the werewolves’ throat, only for a pair of strong arms to pull you away from her, pinning you onto the floor. You can hear the werewolf gasping for air, and just make out the stone face of your girlfriend above you, her dark eyes flooded with the concern that her face refused to show.

“Y/n, snap out of it.”

she snarls, but you can’t. You fail to even try. You need the fresh blood so badly and God did You girlfriend look mouthwatering right now. One of Wednesdays cold hands grab the back of you throat, forcing you up to her face.

“Sinclair, you need to run. She has extremely poor control for a person of her age.”

You snarl at her words, snapping at her as Enid dashes out of the room, slamming the door behind her. A second passes before you hear the click of the door locking, Thing the only person here to have done so.

“listen to me y/n,”

your girlfriend lifts your head to her throat, inches away from her skin but still close enough that you can smell the sweet aroma that is her blood.

“You take as much as you need, but you must excessive restraint, otherwise you will eventually hurt someone you care about and I will have to be the one to bury their body. Do you understand?”

You purr in response, your thirst preventing you from forming words. Wednesday sighs, before letting go of you. You sink into the crook of her neck, fangs grazing her flesh. You are so desperate to tear her apart, drink every last drop, but you remember what you agreed to and attempt to push at least part of your urges away.

You bite her. Fangs pushing past her skin and into her vein. Her blood flowed quickly into your mouth and you gulped it down. Desperate to not let any escape. Wednesdays cold hand finds the back of you head, pushing you further into her throat, causing a sudden gush of blood to enter your waiting mouth. Your hands grasp at the floor, nails digging into the wood. A quiet sigh slips past Wednesdays lips as you drink deeper, her free hand slipping under your shirt, fingers tracing your spine with an strange gentleness no one else knew your girlfriend possessed. A few more minute pass, in which Wednesday is now sighing in content as you lay onto of her, holding her against the ground like the predator you are.

“y/n, you have to stop.”

she mutter’s,her hand gliding up your back to your throat, gently rubbing your skin with her thumb. Her other hand is placed on the side of your cheek, preparing to force you away. God, you did not want to let go.

“Y/n, please mi amore.”

With a growl, you tear yourself away from her throat. Looking into her dark eyes before leaning down to lick at the wound, lapping up the small drops of blood. Wednesdays hands grab your cheek and force you to look at her. “I am so proud of you, my darkness.”

She says, the ghost of a smile on her lips. You grin at her, blood dripping down you chin. She gently kisses you, licking away her own blood as you move with each other.

she flips you onto your back, kissing up your throat, getting a soft groan out of your mouth.

“my turn.”

you hear her mutter as you feel a sharp, pleasure filled pain from your throat.

#Wednesday Addams #Enid sincalir #Vampire bites #Vampire #jenna ortega

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little-annie · 1 year

Text

EDDIE X FEM READER

It's been a hot minute, but the writing gods have blessed me and I'm writing Eddie x Reader again. If you've been following my "Set Up" story on Wattpad or Ao3, here's a snippet of Pt.6.

---

The ride back from town wasn't any less special. Trees and stars flickered by through the windows of the van, hues of dark greens and blues going by in a blur.

Eddie was a little less animated than he was on the way in, most likely exhausted from the hours he'd spent twirling and dipping you to the twang of country music, but that didn't stop him from singing to you on the way home.

Leant back in the passenger seat, sore feet on the dash, you savoured the feeling on Eddie's large calloused hand on your thigh. The icy bite of his rings and the warm contrast of his skin against your own. His thumb drew mindless circles while he quietly sang along to the radio, voice quiet and smooth like honey as it met your ears.

Tonight was a night for the books, it was just unfortunate that it was coming to an end.

Quietly singing along with Eddie, you laid your hand over his, cricking your neck enough to take in the man next to you, trying to burn this moment into your memory.

The sound of Eddie's voice, rolling thick through the air and settling deep within your veins. The glow of the moonlight flooding the cab, blue and highlighting every one of Eddie's features perfectly. The arch of his nose, the square of his jaw, the wildness of his hair and the curve of his lips.

You felt a warmth flood your body as you imagined what the future could bring. It's uncertain, but you could only hope it'd involve the man next to you. Truly in any capacity the universe was willing to give you, as long as you didn't go back to the way things were before. Strangers.

"What?" Eddie's voice, soft and sweet, a tinge of laughter behind his words, pulls you out of your thoughts.

You blink back to reality with a smile, squeezing Eddie's hand in your own as you parrot, "What?"

He looks at you for a moment, eyes flitting between your figure and the road ahead. A gentle squeeze to your thigh and his smile widens before he asks, "Who gave you the right to be so damn pretty?"

You can't help but blush, heat flooding your cheeks as a bashful smile creeps onto your face. You huff a quiet laugh, turning your head to face the window, butterflies whirling through your stomach.

Then you feel the grip on your thigh tighten and the van swerve just enough to make your stomach pinch, but then there's a big wet kiss being laid to your cheek. It's mostly teeth, a smile pressed to your skin, a feeling that only makes you blush further and your smile stretch wider.

You giggle, turning your head to meet his, stealing a quick kiss before you shove him back into the driver's seat, the van carelessly swerving along with the motions.

Eddie looks at you again, bashful, sweet, maybe a little embarrassed from his antics, but it's in that moment that you see the sign pointing to your campsite come and go in a blur and you can't help but say, "You missed the turn."

His smile only widens as he shrugs a shoulder and says an animated, "Oops," followed by a hand inching a little higher on your thigh, calloused fingers tracing circles over your inner leg sending a blissful heat to pool in your core while he continues, "Guess we'll just have to enjoy the privacy of our own campsite for the night."

Oh.

With those words, the need you've felt sitting heavy in your core all week only intensifies. Desperate. Wanting. A need that's been interrupted countless times, only to grow heavier with every passing second spent with this beautiful man.

You shift in your seat, subtly inching closer to Eddie as you try to discreetly spread your legs further. It's then that you feel an even more intense rush of heat flood your body as his hand inches higher and you feel his pinky brush the inseam of your shorts. It's a struggle to suppress the whimper that claws at your throat, but you manage. Hardly.

The next minutes feel like hours, the unsaid words and intentions of tonight hanging heavy with the heat in the air. You nearly feel feral by the time the van comes to a stop and not more than a second later, you're ripping your seatbelt off and pulling yourself into Eddie's lap.

He tries to laugh, hands finding your hips and helping to move you closer, but the sound is cut off as your lips feverishly crash into his. It's a little painful, you're sure your teeth bump and you draw blood from his lip or yours but goddammit, you need this man now.

Settling your weight in Eddie's lap, you can feel the press of the steering wheel against your back just as much as you can feel the length of heat growing beneath you. You whine into the embrace, the taste of Eddie on your tongue making you feel electric.

It's then that he shifts his hips, pressing them upward against your need, large hands strong against your body pulling you down into the movement. You can't help but gasp at the sensation, body feeling like it's on fire with the desire burning in your core.

Your hands are buried carelessly into Eddie's hair, combing through tangled, russet locks, pulling to angle him into the embrace you so feverishly press into.

With each rock of his hips, you feel large hands begin to roam your body. Moving over your hips and thighs, wrapping around you to squeeze your ass and pull you closer. It's not long that you feel them move beneath your shirt, warm skin against your own, dancing over ribs and up your back.

A satisfied groan vibrates over your lips as one of Eddie's arms wraps around your waist and the other moves away for a moment, the loss of touch immediately something to mourn.

Well, that is until the driver's seat abruptly reclines and you're sent falling forward in a rush. You can't help but gasp and giggle against Eddie's lips, a sweet smile meeting your embrace before he whispers, "Don't worry Sweetheart, I gotcha."

It's like a reflex when you melt into the man, comfortably settling, lips carelessly moving and hips grinding down. The angle's just right, the seam of your shorts, the hard, thick length pressed to you from beneath, God, you could probably just get off from this alone.

And from the way, Eddie's grip tightens on your waist and his rolling hips begin to stutter, you feel like he might feel the same way.

"Slow down Baby," he rasps against your lips and a nearly bruising grip on your waist, "not like this."

It's unfortunate, but you can't help but agree, if anything's going to happen, you'd prefer it not be so quick or with a cramp blooming in your ass from the precarious position you're settled in.

You concede, halting the movement of your hips, releasing the grip in Eddie's hair and removing your lips from his with a shuddered breath. Hands now prompt on either side of Eddie's head, he's caged in beneath you and he looks nothing less than delighted about the fact.

Chests heaving against one another, the tension's no less palpable, nor is the feeling of Eddie hot and heavy still pressed between your thighs.

His eyes are blown wide, cheeks tinged pink and lips slick with spit, you want nothing less than to devour him.

And he very much feels the same.

After a moment of lazy kisses and stilled hips, you feel Eddie's hands begin to explore your body again. Though this time, his motions are gentle, intentional, calculated.

Beneath your shirt circles are drawn into your hips, then a finger traces slowly up your spine while a soft kiss is pressed to your lips and Eddie whispers the single word, "Beautiful."

He pulls back, eyes not leaving yours while fingers dance feather light over your skin, each gentle movement leaving a trail of lingering electricity in their wake.

God, you need more.

With less grace than you anticipated, you remove your shirt, dropping it to the floor of the van, delighting in the way you watch Eddie's eyes grow impossibly larger as they focus on your chest.

He seems hesitant as he moves a hand to cradle your ribs, thumb resting just under the wire of your bra. Inching closer, neck probably straining from the angle, Eddie looks up at you with a silent question in his eyes.

A question he really doesn't have to ask, but you appreciate the consideration. Leaning forward you press a kiss to his forehead as you whisper, "Please."

No more than a second later do you feel lips press to your chest, gentle, maybe a little nervous, accompanied by the subtle scratch of today's stubble.

You hum, one arm wrapping around Eddie's head, cradling him against your chest while the other braces you against the chair.

A quiet gasp is pulled from your throat as you feel a tongue drag between your cleavage and teeth bite into soft tissue.

There's something about that moment that spurs Eddie on, if the grip on your body and the fervour he begins to devour you with is anything to go by. It's not long after that you feel the pinch of a bite, verging on the edge of painful and oh so sweet.

You grind your hips down in response, being met with an equal amount of force from beneath that pushes a moan from your lips. You're nearly shaking with need, can feel the tremble in your fingers, the heat in your veins and forever growing slick dripping from your core.

Again, there's another bite, another roll, another gasp and you can't take it anymore.

With a hand fisted in Eddie's hair, you pull him back from your chest, the words falling from your lips much less ceremoniously than you'd wished, "I need you to fuck me,-" you pause for a moment, grimacing at your words, watching Eddie's lips curl into a smile before you add, "like yesterday."

He can't help but snort at your forwardness, but he dives in for a kiss all the same and it's with a tight squeeze of your ass and a whisper against your lips that he says, "You're gonna have to get off of me than Princess."

You whine at the mere thought.

"Just so we can get into the back of the van, Sweet Girl." Eddie says as he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

You contemplate being a brat, furrowing your brow, jutting out your bottom lip because yeah, the mere thought of getting off of this beautiful man is a crime in itself. But, goddammit, you need him and you need him now.

With the coordination of a baby giraffe you wrangle yourself out of Eddie's lap and pull the handle to the drives door, nearly falling out in the process before your feet hit the ground.

It's only about two seconds that you have to take in your surroundings, but in those few short moments you're able to take in the beauty around you. The chill of the evening air against your bare skin is forgotten as you marvel.

The private campsite is nothing short of gorgeous. Thick trees and what looks to be a sliver of a lake reflecting the moon and starry sky.

Though your moment of marvel doesn't last long.

The van door clicks shut behind you and in an instant you feel arms wrap around your waist and lips press to the crook of your neck. No more than a second later are you caught up in a whirlwind while Eddie spins you around, gripping you under the thighs and hoisting you up to be carried to the back of the van.

You giggle, because how can you not.

The journey's short, not more than ten feet, but you wrap yourself around Eddie like he's your life line. Arms around his shoulders, ankles locked around his back and nose buried in his neck.

Then you hear the sound of the vans back door opening and you're being sat on its edge, the softness of blankets piled thick beneath you, soft under the bare skin of your thighs. God, with every passing second your shorts are feeling more and more like a nuisance.

But that thought's quickly forgotten when Eddie's lips find your neck, warm and soft against your pulse, trailing his way up to your lips, mouthing your skin along the way. Hands tangled again into his hair, you pull him closer, his body firmly pressed against yours, slender hips captured between your thighs.

You can't help but gasp against his lips as he rocks his hips into yours once again, the firm line of his cock sliding against the seam of your shorts perfectly. He bites your lip as the sound escapes with your breath, his hands moving from where they were on your bare waist to cradle your head.

Strong hands cupping your jaw and the side of your neck, Eddie brushes his thumbs over the roundness of your cheeks fondly as he quietly speaks, "You tell me to stop and I will, okay Sweetheart?" He reassures, "You don't like anything, just say so okay?"

Your eyes search his for a moment, onyx orbs reflecting the stars and you can't help but trust him completely. You nod, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to Eddie's lips, whispering a quiet, "Okay Baby."

---

#eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie x you fic #Eddie x you fic rec #eddie munson fic recs #eddie munson fic #fic wip

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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 months

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Regina Rene King: January 15, 1971

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m1d-45 · 1 year

Note

hello mushroom anon here,

I was watching wendigoons video on the Mandela catalogue and he recounts that in the 3rd or 1st episode you have a guy that has an encounter and his alternate in his house, the guy locks himself in his room and calls for help.

at first he calls the police and belives them when they tell him that help is on the way and that everything will be okay (no it won't)

when he realizes that they're not coming, what does he turn to? prayer

he begins to pray and repeat his prayers to god. we see in his note book that he turned completely to religion to save him.

for his god to save him.

but nobody came.

it is only then that he shoots himself and his alternate flashes into frame only then to show us his censored body.

something that we haven't discovered was the possibility of this disease to...take people away from their god. their one true source.

now all you gotta do is plug in one of your most devoted acolytes and watch them suffer.l, slowly losing their faith along with their mind.

I, myself am partial to zhongli

-🍄 (how's ur day going? I hope you got enough sleep <3 what if I make a home cooked meal for the dinner/p)

OK HI i’m gonna merge this ask and your other one into one post bc i don’t wanna flood dashes again

ok right off the bat i too am partial to zhongli so he’s my example!! ft. alternate! xiao and your other prompt

he’s holed up in his ‘hoard’ room, a rosary clutched to his chest as he kneels before his personal altar. he traces his claws around the beads in his hand, reciting prayers and trying to find comfort in the geo resonating in the room. jewels and precious stones, antiques hes collected over the years, everything he used to find comfort and solace in now buzzing uncomfortably beneath his skin.

the demon at his door beats, the frame rattling, carved wood- he’d polished it himself, he remembered wiping down the subtle gold inlays, the little notes of his element that were invisible to some but a beautiful reminder to him, now dented and scratched and ruined by the thing inside his home.

his heart picked up, in anger or fear he didn’t know.

“mooraax…” the thing drawled, a claw dragging over his hard work. everything he’d worked for, all of time he’d spent to perfect his collection, now turned to dust-

“morax?”

his breath hitched at the sound of xiao’s voice beyond the door.

it wasn’t him.

he’d watched him get taken, watched the dark, too-long fingers wrap around the last yaksha as he cried.

it wasn’t him.

the geo around the room seemed to taunt him, the resonance reminding him that even as a god, he couldn’t protect the one he’d come to see as family.

“why did you let me die?” ‘xiao’ asked, and zhongli squeezed his eyes shut.

it wasn’t real.

the ancient jade dagger on the shelf to his right buzzed within his soul.

“why didn’t you save me?”

it wasn’t real.

his claws slipped and he smelled copper, the blood of a god spilling. he blinked, trying to wipe it off his rosary, only to lock on the beads.

his god… the creator…

would they create such demons?

“what did i do wrong, rex lapis?”

would his god allow such monstrosities?

“haven’t i followed you diligently?”

…was there a ever even a god to begin with?

the jade blade was lifted from the shelf.

‘xiao’ smiled, moving his hand to the doorknob, the smell of iron thick in the air.

#m1d : [chats]#m1d : [secrets]#🍄 anon #alternate!au #this is gonna be queued for like an hour or two out bc i just posted something and want that to get attention #also i really like how this joke has devolved into ‘we are having dinner at my place and i’m cooking’ /gen. i think it’s lovely

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chubbybuckydumpling · 3 years

Text

Of Riches and Rings

words: 2.9k

pairing: Helmut Zemo x female reader

warnings: smut, fluffy smut, voyeurism, masturbation (m/f), oral (m/f receiving), blowjob, 69, choking, squirting, unprotected sex, porn without plot

A/n: As a celebration for reaching 500 followers, please enjoy this filthy Zemo smut :) Let’s hope the next episode still makes him likeable! Dividers by @firefly-graphics

My Masterlist

The clock is ticking with every passing second. Tik tok. Tik tok. His fingers tap on the crystal glass of expensive bourbon. The plushy armchair gives into his weight, forming nicely around his back. He checks his jeweled watch. It’s been 10 minutes. You’re taking too long. Tik tok. Tik tok.

He turns his head to gaze around the room, searching for a distraction, but he can’t get you off his mind. Inevitably, his gaze falls to his hand where an elegant ring dresses his finger. A soft smile plays on his lips, but it makes him yearn for your presence even more. Taking a deep breath, his eyes drift back to the clock on the wall. Tik tok. The seconds are passing. Tik tok. His patience is wearing thin, this is not what he had planned. An annoyed growl escapes his lips which surprises him. His self control is definitely slipping. Tik tok. Another minute gone by. Tik tok, tik tok.

“Alright, enough”, he grumbles, getting out of his chair. His tight black slacks cling to his legs, the dress shoes rounding out the look. He places his glass on the nearest shelf, the sound of his heels swallowed by the carpet. The dimly lit hallway carries him from door to door until he closes in on the bathroom. It has a kitschy postcard attached to it.

He can’t help but scoff, “Wash away your troubles? Really?” Reaching up, he is about to rip it off when he hears a sound. A low moan, to be particular. He stills completely, doubtful of what he heard just seconds ago. Just when he’s about to write it off as some weird hallucination, it happens again. His eyebrows raise, a smirk working its way on his lips.

Oh.

This is going to be fun. Carefully, he reaches out to turn the door knob until he can safely open it, just a gap, of course. He chuckles to himself, of course you didn’t lock it, little minx. Turning to peek in, he has to bite his lip to stop a groan. There you were, propped on the bathroom counter, panties discarded by your feet, fingers plunging into your pussy.

The squelching sounds mixed with your soft moans and frustrated whimpers makes his trousers tighten. He feels himself twitch, the sight of you, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes shut tightly. The amount of want that floods through his body makes him undo his fly, the tight material only falling down a little.

One of his hands wanders down his dark turtleneck and he reaches into his grey briefs to take out his half hard cock. He licks the thumb of his free hand, working his tongue around it to get it nice and wet. Once he is content with his work, he pulls down his foreskin and presses the shiny digit against the head, circling his slit. His hips thrust forwards and he has to grab onto the door frame. Shit.

He feels his cock fatten up, twitching in his hand while he slowly fists himself. His eyes are trained on your fingers, the way your core grabs onto them. He builds up a steady rhythm of squeezing his length and playing with his crown, teasing his sensitive head. It’s hard to quiet his sounds, but he’s used to controlling himself, reducing his urges to achieve his goals.

You, however, feel no need to be quiet. Your fingers don’t reach far enough and frustration, greedy want overcomes your senses. You groan, hips rutting against your palm. The pressure against your clit feels good, but it’s just not enough. Your free hand frees your boobs from the bra cups and you begin to squeeze your nipple, whining at the pleasurable pain.

He speeds up his motions, tightens his grip and lets his body take over. Your breasts are beautiful, the tight nipples hard against the cooler air. He feels his desire overcoming him, carnal want filling his veins. His balls tighten, abdomen contracting irretically. He feels himself twitch in his hand. The silky skin of his hard cock feels nice against his hand and he lets out a growl, little droplets of sweat forming on his forehead. The fabric begins to cling to his back.

“I hope you’re not planning on coming anywhere else but inside me”, your voice sounds strained, eyes trained on his thick length. The delicious view makes you lick your lip. He just grins, not surprised by your actions at all, “Wasn’t planning on it, sweet girl”, he replies, a soft smile on his lips. He collects all of his self control to tuck himself back, before he fully opens the door, moving closer to you.

He closes in on you, arms placed on the counter on either side of you. You pull out your drenched fingers to pull him closer, but he is faster, catching your wrist before you could touch him. Smirking, he draws your hand closer and envelops your coated digits with his mouth. He moans at your taste, tongue licking of every bit of your wetness.

You whimper, the sensation around your fingers with the knowledge of what exactly he is licking off makes your belly tighten. His gaze is still trained on you as he slowly pops your fingers out. His chest is heaving with his deep breath. He looks amazing, delicious even. You can't stop yourself for any longer and dash forward to press your lips against his.

The kiss is hungry, greedy. Your desire mixes with his while your tongues dance together. He licks into you, one hand coming up to clutch the back of your neck, pulling you even closer. A deep growl vibrates in his chest, everything about you is just so good. Your taste, the way your scent seeps into his nose, the feel of your tongue against his.

A feeling of desperation seeps into your body and you let your hands wander to the hem of his shirt. You let yourself explore his upper body, feeling his soft skin against your hands, all while he dominates your mouth. When the oxygen runs low, you part, immediately pulling the dark turtleneck over his head. He helps you remove it and chucks the expensive article behind him.

Instantly, his swollen lips are back against yours, more sensitive this time. He bites into your lower lip, dragging it a little before he lets it snap back. Aroused, he allows his hands to grip your waist with one hand while the other strokes over you, caressing your skin until he finds your breasts. He manages to rid you of your bra, your boobs falling free of the constricting material.

“You are so beautiful, mein Engel”, he whispers. You’re completely exposed in front of him while he is still half covered, what you desire most remaining hidden. Warmth rises to your cheeks, yet you don’t feel embarrassed. He’s shown you time and time again how much he desires you.

“What took you so long?”, the question falls from your lip and you can’t help but smirk mischievously at him. He pulls back a little, eyebrows raised, yet he can’t hide the smile on his lips. Not in front of you, “Well, Mrs. Zemo, I wasn’t expecting your toilet break to turn into this”, he gestures to your lower body, “Not that I’m complaining”

You giggle, grabbing his neck to pull him in for another kiss. He feels so good against you, his tight chest against your own breasts. His warmth seeps into you, blanketing you into a calming sense of comfort. He lets his arms surround you, pulling your body closer to his, directly onto his huge bulge. You gasp into his mouth, a strong tingling sensation running through your core. He groans at the pressure, pushing you right on him again.

“Fuck, Helmut”, you whimper, burying your head into his neck, “Please, I need you” He tightens his grip, growling at your words, “Then hold tight. Can’t just fuck my most precious on a sink now can I Engel”

He picks you up, holding you close. His arms strain a little, but you know he would never drop you. Navigating through the hallway he quickly moves towards your bedroom, opening the door with ease. His display of strength makes you clench and your want for him surges even higher. He lays you down on the king sized better, leaving you with a kiss to your nose.

“Beautiful”, he mumbles after taking a step back to observe you. With quick and precise motions, he strips himself of the rest of his clothing. His fully erect cock jumps up to stand tall and proud. You lick your lips with desire, the sight of your husband just always so arousing. Before you can mention how attractive he is, he drops down to his knees, hands parting your thighs.

“Look at you, so wet for me”, he drawls, eyes switching from focusing on your pussy to searching your face. Slowly, he lowers himself, his hot breath fanning against your exposed core. “You look so delicious”, he groans before he buries himself in your folds. His tongue teases your entrance, pressing against it, but never quite breaching. His nose bumps against your clit, sending a shock of arousal up your spine. You let out a moan when his tongue trails up higher, circling the most sensitive part of yourself.

Suddenly, he begins to suck the bud into his mouth and you gasp, back arching. You bury your hands into his soft hair, tugging slightly with need. He continues teasing your hooded bundle of nerves, but adds his fingers back inside you. With delicate motions, he strokes your velvety walls, reaching for your sensitive g-spot. A sudden cool sensation pushes at you and you realise it's his wedding ring. Clenching, you moan his name, needy; greedy. Your pleasure is ascending, the feeling of his flexible tongue with his talented fingers, you begin to shake, thighs trying to clench around his head.

“Fuck, please, I want to suck you off. Need it, please”, you whimper, tears blurring your vision. At your distress, he immediately perks up to check your face for any sign of discomfort. When he can’t find any, he coos, moving up to cradle your face, “Hey, shh, it’s okay, you’re okay”, he whispers, gently petting your hair, “You just want to have your mouth filled, ain’t that right?” You nod, leaning into the warmth of his palm.

He pushes himself further up the bed, laying on his back. His cock looks delicious, pre cum coating the crown. It has a lovely red colour, a beautiful contrast to his pale tummy. Helmut gestures towards his length, smiling at your sweaty face, “Take it then, mein Engel, but let me make you feel good too” His voice sounds strained, his need for friction obvious.

You crawl up to him, eyes trained on his heavy cock. Sniffling, you position your pussy above his face and lean down to take his hard length into your palm. Squeezing and turning your wrist, you tease him, enjoying the soft, veiny feeling of him. He moans and dives back into your pussy, licking and nibbling you so well. His fingers breach your stretched opening once more, his other hand grabbing onto your bum.

He kneads the soft flesh as you feel the ring that makes him yours again. A sudden flame of desire fills you and you envelope his cock with your mouth. Immediately, you press your tongue against the silky underside, your free hand, clad with your own wedding ring, massaging his full balls. He moans against your pussy, twitching inside of your mouth.

Both of you get lost in the pleasure, tongues licking and sucking greedily, fingers playing over your most sensitive parts. He begins to thrust up, his beautiful head hitting against the back of your throat, making you gag around him. He pulls off of you, breathing heavily, “You good?”, he forces out. You nod, pushing your hips back against his mouth. He chuckles, but goes back to work you over, sucking and tickling your hard clit.

You take a deep breath before you lower your mouth back onto him. You focus on inhaling through our nose as you go deeper and deeper until your nose scratches his trimmed pubic hair. He whimpers, moaning as you swallow around him. The vibrations feel so good against your core and you groan, egging him on even further.

His balls tighten, but he pulls you back swiftly, clamping his base tightly, panting heavily.

“Don’t want to cum just yet”, he groans. You whimper, so drawn to him, an overwhelming sexual tension tingling through your body. Electrified, you turn around, getting on your hands and knees, presenting yourself to him. Hearing him moan, you push your ass out even further wiggling slightly. His hands run up to your shoulders, starting at your cheeks, slowly roaming over your skin. His chest presses against you, cock jutting itself between your cheeks, balls against your wet entrance.

His hands run down your arms and he kisses at your neck, working his way to your pulse point where he begins to suck and nibble. You draw in a shaky breath, goosebumps rising all over your skin. You whimper, once more becoming teary eyed. He lets up bruising your skin, a lovely hickey already starting to form. “I love you, Mrs Zemo”, he whispers against your ear. Smiling softly, you turn your head, “I love you too, Mr Zemo” Your husband grins, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

Drawing back, he teases your slick hole with his wet head, slapping his length over your clit until you’re moaning for him to take you. Finally, he pushes into you, carefully at first, yet slowly bottoming out. Once he’s balls deep inside you, he lets out a loud groan as you feel him twitch. Involuntarily, you clench down on him, the feeling of being filled up just so perfectly satisfying.

He begins to pull out, only to push back in, gradually creating a fulfilling rhythm. His thrusts push against your walls so well, a delicious sensation that makes your eyes roll back into your head. Helmut’s firm hands run down to your breasts, squeezing and toying with them. It feels incredible, being touched and claimed all over.

His hips become faster, thrusts stronger. The sounds of skin slapping together, deep groans and growls as well as your own moans and whimpers fill your room, a beautiful song of pleasure and affection, a sonnet of lovers living out their desire.

He pushes himself up, the rhythm of his hips never faltering. With his weight supported solely by his knees, he pulls you up against his chest, slick bodies pressed against each other. His hand sneaks around your throat, tightening slowly. A shockwave of arousal consumes you when you feel the platinum of his wedding band against your sensitive hickey. “You feel so good around me, taking me so well, such a good wife for me”, he babbles, thrusts becoming more irregular, but harder, more determined.

“I want you to cum on my cock, can you do that, Engel?” You nod once he lets up his hold on your jugular, taking deep breaths. “Need you to say it, need to hear my good little wife” Panting, you gasp, “I will, please please please. I want it so, so bad” Suddenly tears jump into your eyes with desire and love for the man behind you.

Growling, he pushes you down into the mattress, your cheek pressed to the satin sheets. His hips grow even faster, pushing further, filling you up harder. The new angle makes him hit your velvety spot head on every time, pushing you into even higher layers of pleasure, but once he drops his fingers down to your clit, you crumble, desperately sobbing into the bed.

The coil and desire in your lower belly tightens. You begin to clamp around him uncontrollably, your entire body beginning to twitch with the anticipation of your upcoming high. “Shit, I’m gonna cum, ‘m so close, please let me cum”, you beg, convulsing around him. “Let go for me, Engel. Cum on my cock”, he rasps and with a particular hrd thrust, you break, cumming all over his thick length.

Thighs shaking and back arched you let the pleasure take over, all while your husband still fucks into you furiously, tight circles on your clit. With a few last pushes into your tight heat, strong and hard, he spills into you, filling your body up with his white, hot seed. The feeling of being stuffed with his cock, overflowing with the seed of the love of your life and the delicious pressure against your sensitive nub, you feel a new, yet so familiar sensation overflow you.

Screaming his name, your pussy flutters while you gush around his pulsing length, drenching him with a mixture of your and his orgasm. Convulsing one last time, the final gush of cum squirts out of you. Helmut carefully pulls out of you and watches as your core clenches, trying to keep his seed inside you.

Drained and exhausted, you collapse on your side, eyes shut. Your legs twitch with the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you’re too fucked out to notice. Warmth and safety consume you when you feel your husband’s arms wrapped around you, his face against your neck, “I’m so proud of you, Engel. You did so well”, his breathing isn’t quite back to normal, the intensity of his orgasm left him a little drained and floaty as well. “Hmm, thank you”, you mumble, cuddling back into him, “I love you” Your heart flutters when you feel him smile against your skin, “I love you too. So much”

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pleasantanathema · 3 years

Text

Sinful Hymns

Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Hair pulling, some rough sex, sex on a desk, religious allusions, a dash of authority kink, no spoilers past early season 1

Word Count: 4k

A/N: In celebration of Season 4 of Attack on Titan airing today, here’s a fulfilled request for Commander Handsome 💕 Thank you so much to the anon who requested this, I had so much fun writing this!

You couldn’t sleep. There was a nagging in your mind, shadowy visions of titans ascending mountains, climbing walls—the same nightmares that plagued you ever since you joined the scouts all those years ago. You found yourself in the showers, all alone scrubbing away your sins and torments. But even a cleansing couldn’t seem to quell your thoughts, so you roamed.

The meandering halls of the old scout regiment headquarters were cold, musty, unwelcoming even with Levi’s cleaning. Glimmering lamp light under a cracked door caught your attention, the only light you’d seen while on your stroll.

The Commander was still awake.

You weren’t sure what compelled you to stop, to bring your knuckles to rap against the wood of the door. You’d once been quite close with Erwin, back when you were both cadets and working your way up the ranks, but he’d become quite elusive since becoming the Commander. You’d always been interested in him, found your gaze lingering on him a little too long when was around. There was some kind of irresistible, seductive pull towards him, like if you got close enough, he might let you explore the man under the armor. You wondered if he felt it, too, or if your lust was one-sided.

You were just too curious about what would keep him awake at night. Maybe he struggled with the same miseries you did when the nights felt too dark.

Tentatively, you slid past the open door.

Blue eyes caught your movement, his handsome face tilting towards you from where it was seated in his palm.

He whispered your name, smile tugging at his cheeks.

“Commander Smith,” you acknowledged, “you’re up quite late.”

“Seems I’m not the only one.” There was an amusement in his voice that you couldn’t quite place.

He leaned back in his chair as you stayed in your place, a sudden rise of bashfulness making you bite at the inside of your lip. You were sure you were pestering him; you should’ve just wandered back to your room. Your feet were ready to move, heels pressed against the floor to turn and leave at his behest.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“I—no, I just couldn’t sleep. Apologies, I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“No, you’re no bother. Rather, you’re quite a pleasant distraction at the moment,” he gestured to his desk, littered with paperwork and books opened to forgotten pages, “come in, shut the door behind you.”

You did as you were so kindly told, clicking the door into place behind you before moving in closer. His office was warm, bathed in dim candlelight from the lamp on his desk, shadows being cast from the bookshelves that lined the walls. You noticed he was in only a white button-down and trousers, his ODM gear placed neatly on a chest behind where he sat.

Your hands came to rest on the chair that was placed in front of his desk for his visitors. You remained standing, not quite ready to be so familiar as to just sit and talk with him. There was humor in his eyes as they scanned your figure, undoubtedly surprised to see you dressed so casually as well, simple pants and shirt being all you brought to wear after taking your late-night shower.

“Tell me, what keeps you awake?”

There were many answers to his question, but you erred on the side of simplicity.

“Nightmares. What about you? What’s kept you awake tonight?”

Erwin sighed, deep and heavy from his chest. You observed how his long fingers gripped at the armrest of his seat, knuckles white.

“Letters. Demands from the Military Police to hand over the boy who turns into a titan, demands from royalty to execute him. But also my own curiosities. I’ve been reading to see if there are any records of anyone else like him.”

“I see,” your tongue clicked behind your lips as you recognized the heaviness bound within his broad shoulders, “anything I can help you with?”

He smiled fully then, white teeth curving against his pretty lips.

“Like I said, you’re a welcome distraction. How have you been?”

Again, there were too many ways to answer his question. But you couldn’t bring yourself to bring your burdens to him, not when he was already carrying the weight of the world upon his back.

“Life isn’t as simple as it used to be,” not that living in this world had ever been easy.

“No, I’m afraid it isn’t.”

You caught an etching of the walls on his desk, details of Sina and Maria partially obscured by a leather-bound book, penciled in lines and notes scribbled around the paper’s edges. Something about it drew you in, had you moving to perch on the edge of his desk, one thigh crinkling pages of ink as your fingers deftly plucked at the drawing.

He watched you with curiosity, eyebrows lifted as he brought a hand to his chin.

Your nail traced against the charcoal lines, gaze scanning the comprehensive sketch of the rounded walls and the cities held within them.

“My father used to think there was some kind of power within the walls; believed there was some unseen magic lingering within the stones to keep us safe…” you trailed off, the rest of your thoughts caught within your throat, “...I’m glad he wasn’t alive when the walls were breached, would’ve ruined the mystery for him.”

“Was he a believer in the Church of the Walls?”

“No,” you hummed softly, “just someone who thought there was more to the story.”

Quite like yourself, you wanted to say, but left the words unspoken. You set the yellowing paper back on his desk, arms crossing.

He rolled his shoulders in a quiet stretch, running a tired hand through his blonde undercut as he looked up at you. You’d always found him overwhelmingly handsome, the kind of man who changed the atmosphere of a room when he walked in. But there was always a warmth to him, like there was always something brewing, churning inside that enticing mind of his.

“I never could understand how people could worship the walls,” he mused, shifting his weight forward, getting a little closer to where you were perched, “not when there are other, more...beautiful things to praise.”

Heat crept up the back of your neck, your too-close proximity to him becoming all too apparent. But he kept getting closer.

His hand found your knee, fingers trailing over the tight threads of your pants.

The act seemed endearing, harmless, but the simple touch had your desire rearing its sordid head again. You felt emboldened, confidence swelling in your chest.

“Then what would you worship, Erwin?”

“I’m a man of too many sins, I doubt there’s any kind of faith that could bring me absolution.”

Your fingers ached to touch him, your hand reaching toward his face before your mind could stop the movement. His cheek was warm, skin soft under the brush of your thumb.

“I don’t believe that. There has to be something beautiful for you to admire…” you felt his fingers tighten against your leg, drifting higher up your thigh, pulling you in, bringing you closer.

“I could start with you.”

The tension snapped, splitting like a tightly strung cord between you. You heeded the call to be nearer, moving your hand to rest against his shoulder for balance as you took the initiative to settle yourself in his lap. For a moment, you worried that you pushed too far, that you’d invaded his personal space and made him uncomfortable. But those fears were battered quickly when eager hands took hold of your waist, palms spread wide as they trailed up your back.

“I’ve always admired you from afar,” he was hushed, breath fanning over your neck, “but you’re much easier to worship up close.”

You kissed him without a second thought. Years of attraction, of adoration, fueled your lips, your hands grasping at his jawline as he met your passion. His mouth slanted against yours ardently, impatient hands slipping under your shirt.

You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose at the feel of his warm fingers ghosting up your skin, now suddenly very aware you hadn’t bothered to wear anything below your clothes—you thought you’d be returning to your room, not wandering into your Commander’s lap. You moaned into his mouth, his tongue slipping past your parted lips to taste you. You were overcome with too much, all your senses now flooding with Erwin, his scent, his touch, his entire being smothering you with all the attentions you had ever craved from him.

His thumbs brushed the undersides of your breasts, a groan leaving his chest when you settled lower into his lap, your thighs draped over his own and your core pressed against his hardening cock.

This wasn’t real—this couldn’t be real, surely you were caught up in one of your dreams again, but his lips against yours felt real, felt hungry, his large hands now cupping and holding the weight of your breasts within his hands. Your fingers carded through his hair, nails delicately raking through the roots to remind yourself that it was him, that this was real.

“You taste like sin,” he praised, peppering kisses down the column of your throat.

Any thought you had of replying disappeared when strong fingers pinched at your nipples, causing a heavy moan to fall out of your mouth as your head tilted back, allowing him more access to your neck. He plucked tenderly at your sensitive flesh, a noticeable smirk growing upon his lips as each tug and roll of your breasts had you gasping, whining. He quite liked that, it seemed, to be able to play you so easily.

You mumbled curses into the air, eyes fluttering closed. You experimentally rolled your hips in his lap, an attempt to get a similar rise from him. He bared his teeth against your throat, canines nipping into your skin before pressing his lips down more forcefully, sucking and lapping at your neck. Heat bloomed from where his mouth met your body, a telling sign that you would have a mark there to remember him by. He was careful, choosing a supple spot below where the collar of your uniform would cover you tomorrow.

Erwin’s hands released your aching breasts, moving down to grasp at the hem of your shirt.

“Take this off,” he demanded, a string of saliva still connecting his lips to your neck.

You dropped your hands from his hair, trailing down his broad chest before meeting his hands and pulling your shirt up over your head. It fell to the floor carelessly, the chill of the room making your skin pebble with gooseflesh.

You took note of how his cheeks were flushed pink, blush faint across his elegant aquiline nose.

His intimidating, icy eyes flickered up to you, making your own flush spread across your body. You felt like he was looking through you, reading your thoughts, hearing your internal screams for more. Then, his gaze fell back to your heaving breasts, hands greedily taking them again, lips wrapping around one of your nipples and making you whimper.

You could feel his cock pressing against you now, harder and thicker than before, the ridge of it nestled against your throbbing cunt. You rolled yourself against it, delighted sounds leaving both of your mouths at the contact. His tongue swirled around your puckered nipple, teeth just barely daring to drag against your flesh. You buried your fingers into his shoulders, feeling his muscles tighten and then relax at your touch.

“Oh-oh fuck, I—,”

“You’re dripping,” he interrupted, one of his hands unclasping from your breast and drifting down your belly to rub at the damp spot between your legs, “I can feel you against me.”

You shivered at the wanton touch, thighs clenching against his legs.

“Did you come here tonight to seduce me?”

He mumbled the words against your breast, tongue flattening against your nipple with a few long, heavy licks as his eyes flashed up to you, waiting for your response.

“No, sir, I promise that wasn’t my,” you moaned as a thick finger slid against your clit through your clothes, “that wasn’t my intention.”

His wet lips left your breast, coy smirk painting his face.

“Shame, that was my plan the moment you stepped into my office.”

You always did fall for his tricks; if only you’d known his hand against your thigh earlier wasn’t so harmless after all.

“And how did this plan of yours end, Commander?”

It still felt strange to call him by that title after so many years of calling him by his name, but there was something sensual about it, something alluring about his newfound authority.

His hands were pushing at your hips, fingers crushing into your skin as he lifted you to move back.

“With you bent over my desk.”

It didn’t take him long to wrangle you into the position he so desired. His hands were unhurried, purposeful as he pushed you to stand, peeling your pants down your legs before pressing your face into the pile of papers on his desk. You felt so exposed, what with him being able to see your pussy on display from behind you while all you could focus on was his touch and the way the flame at the edge of his desk flickered.

Erwin’s fingers spread the folds of your cunt, an appreciative hum sounding from his throat. You mewled at the touch, thighs shaking in your anticipation. The button to his pants popped softly, then you finally felt him, felt his hard, thick cock nudging at your entrance.

Your hands crumpled a few pages as you searched for something to cling to. Your heart was pounding in your ears, suddenly all too aware that the Commander was still fully clothed, while you were laid out across his desk like a naked whore. One of his hands pulled at your hip, the other trailing down the expanse of your back.

There was a boldness coming to life inside you at the realization that he’d wanted you the moment you appeared within his room.

“Worth worshipping, Erwin?”

You ate your words as he shoved himself inside you, stretching you to your limits as your body burned to accommodate his size. You cried out against the mass of papers, eyes blurring as pleasure burst across all of your nerve endings.

He groaned at the feeling himself, both hands now digging into the meat of your hips.

“Fuck,” you heard him breath in deep as he slid is cock out of you before slamming in again, “oh absolutely, darling.”

You hadn’t heard Erwin curse before.

But you didn’t have time to dwell on your thoughts, not with him now moving ruthlessly inside you, hips snapping against your ass with every sharp, deep thrust. Little sounds left your lips with every plunge, blissful tingles stemming from where your bodies were conjoined. You loved how you could feel the head of his fat cock dragging along your walls, thick veins throbbing under silken skin.

You were far past believing this was a dream, now convinced you were actually in the sweet joys of a paradise beyond life.

A coil of pleasure began to tighten within your lower stomach, hot and mean, like it was ready to tear and erupt with a rush of ecstasy. You moaned his name like a prayer, eyes closed tightly as you focused on the intensity of his cock thrusting inside you.

You wouldn’t last long, not with the sinful hymns of his grunts and praises resounding behind you. His sounds were faint, but they were there, little rumbling of “so good, so tight,” kissing at your ears.

God, you could die. You could die and live a happy, full life from this moment alone. You felt so whole with him inside you, felt coated with desire and praise like never before. There were bruises already forming from his grip, you could feel them, skin sore and burning beneath his massive hands.

“You’re beautiful wrapped around my cock,” he voiced, tone deep and praising, brawny arm sweeping up your spine to fist in your hair. Your head jerked with his action, back arching as he pulled at you. You gasped at the discomfort, a dull ache forming from his too-tight grip. But the pain was overshadowed by the rivers of rapture running over your skin. Your breasts bounced with every thrust, your whole body rebounding like snapping elastic from his brutal behavior.

The new angle had his cock slamming against that spot inside you that had your body going almost numb from the pleasure, white hot heat spreading over all your limbs, making your toes curl against the floor. You felt like you were fracturing, that thrilling tendril tightening in your belly to its breaking point. You could feel your walls sucking in his cock, your body pleading on its own.

“Oh fuck, Commander—Erwin,” you were completely lost to the delirium, mind ruined.

“I know,” he grunted, fingers stiffening in your hair, craning your neck back farther, “I feel you, you’re so—you’re so fucking tight.”

You crashed down around him, your cunt clenching and pulsing in waves of euphoria, each crest making your lower muscles spasm. Your chin fell, your head only being held by the might of his hand, your brain so foggy with lust and release that you felt as if you had ascended the walls too quickly and fallen back down again. A fresh, euphoric jolt splintered down your body as he sheathed his cock fully into your depths, making your eyes flutter as your mouth opened in a glorious, blissed out state.

Your body threatened to crumple against the desk, but he held you; the space between his palms and strong fingers was one of the safest places in the world, nothing could touch you if Erwin had you beneath his touch. The fierce tightening of your body sent him over the edge. Hot cum poured inside of you, making you cry out at the captivating feeling of being completely filled by him, the Commander’s seed pooling within your pussy. Your snug walls struggled to flutter around the girth of his cock, prolonging your orgasm and leaving you gasping for breath and basking in every dull thump of his cock inside of you.

He gently let go of your hair, letting your spent body rest against the desk as he caught his breath. He smoothed his hands over your hips, a tinge of regret in his chest as he noticed the dark prints of his fingers etched into your skin. Erwin wasn’t used to letting go, to letting lust overtake him so mercilessly.

You stirred after a few moments, straightening your back and finding your balance between your legs. Erwin enveloped you in his arms, hand against your cheek as he trailed his lips up your neck, capturing the side of your mouth with a fervent kiss.

“Are you alright, darling?” Concern laced his tone, hand smoothing over your belly. You shuttered at the gentle touch, your skin cooling from sweat as you leaned back against his chest, cum sticky and crawling down your thighs.

You still felt lost, like you were waking from the dark depths of slumber, his hands calling you to him. One palm wrapped around your neck, stroking at the column of your throat like he was helping you to find your breath.

“Yes, yes I’m…,” you couldn’t think of the words to describe just how you felt. It was like you’d finally been cleansed, every grievous thought expunged from your mind, but also like you’d fallen back into the past, back into your daydreams of wishing Erwin would press you against the barracks wall and smothering his name from your mouth.

“It is yes sir, to you, don’t forget I’m your superior now,” he teased between nips and kisses, a smile brushing against your skin.

You turned in his arms, pressing your naked chest against his wrinkled shirt, the cotton soft against your breasts. You stood on your toes to try and match his height, molding your lips to his, stealing his grin and making it your own.

“I could never forget, not with such a display of power,” you affirmed, seriousness apparent on your tongue. You knew he could take anything he wanted from you, and you were more than willing to lay yourself bare for him whenever he pleased.

You expected there to be a stillness between you, a moment of reflection after such a callous coupling. But Erwin’s hands were greedy, selfish, cupping and kneading at the soft flesh of your ass, of the side of your breast. You were small in his shadow; a miniscule frame being devoured by a starved predator.

“I want to see just how well you obey orders. Go to my quarters and wait for me, I’m not finished with you yet.”

Your head nodded accordingly, your knees ready to kneel to the floor and gather your forgotten garments. But Erwin kept his fingers in your flesh, preventing you from moving from his hold when you tried.

“Ah, I don’t think you need your clothing, not when you’ll just be shedding it again so soon.”

There was a playful glint in his eyes, his eyebrows thoughtfully pressed together as he tried to gauge your response.

“Erwin,” his hands cinched around your body, an acute reminder, “sir, I can’t...walk to your room naked.”

He patted your backside before he sat back into the chair behind his desk, cock tucked neatly back into his pants. There was still a pretty blush tingeing his cheeks, his lips plump and dark pink from all their time spent sucking at your skin. You almost wanted to cover yourself under his scrutinizing gaze, icy irises roaming your body like a piece of art bought and hung on a wall for his viewing pleasure.

“It’s late, there shouldn’t be anyone to find you,” he relaxed, arms crossing across his chest, “but, if you happen to be unfortunate, remind them that you are under your Commander’s orders.”

Erwin took a sick delight in watching your eyes narrow at him, your lips pursing in slight irritation; but he knew you wouldn’t dare disobey him, you’d always been too good of a soldier for that, and now a promising plaything.

He couldn’t help but survey your body as you walked towards the door, delicious curves and marks from his skin on an alluring display, his cum still flowing down your thighs. You’d be a blessed sight to anyone who got the privilege to see you on your journey to his sleeping quarters, a goddess floating down the corridors.

You looked over your shoulder at him when you opened the door, catching his diligent gaze and matching it. He always thought you’d be amusing to toy with and you’d proven that with how easily you could match his intensity.

“You shouldn’t be up so late, Commander Smith, nothing good happens after midnight.”

He hid the smirk behind his hand as you left his office the same as you entered, only bare-skinned and with a new, more suitable destination.

#erwin x reader #erwin smut #erwin smith #erwin smith x reader #erwin x you #erwin smith x you #erwin #aot x reader #aot erwin #snk #aot fanfiction #snk fanfiction #snk erwin #snk erwin smith #aot erwin smith #attack on titan #attack on titan erwin #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x reader

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vs-redemption · 3 years

Text

This piece was written for the curves and kisses collab hosted by @ceo-of-daichi! Please check out the MASTERLIST to support all the other content creators that participated in the event. Please also check the warnings for each piece before you read. There might be content on the masterlist that is unfit for some readers.

First Dance Victorian/Historical AU (Hajime Iwaizumi x Plus-sized!Fem!Reader)

Word Count: 2.1K Warnings: a little bit of negative body image in the beginning

Most aristocratic girls relished the very moment they turned eighteen. It was supposed to be a magical time when all of the grueling dance lessons and tedious etiquette training they’d endured since childhood finally came to fruition. After all, being eighteen meant finally making your debut into society and attending your first ball. The importance of these parties could not be understated because it was at these events that ladies of high society would have the chance to meet potential suitors, fall in love, and hopefully secure a proposal from an exceptional husband. For you, however, the celebration of your eighteenth birthday had instead instilled upon you a sense of dread.

“Stop fidgeting!” Your mother reprimands you as you wait outside a large set of intricately designed mahogany doors that led into the ballroom belonging to the family hosting tonight’s debutante ball. Apparently the family’s only son had also reached the age of maturity that year and was looking for a suitable young lady to make his wife.

“The Iwaizumi family is very respectable with a substantial income that would allow you to live very comfortably,” your mother had told you as you’d gone dress shopping in preparation for the ball. “It’s rumored that their son is well bred and quite handsome, so you must look your best and remember to put your best foot forward.”

The whole ordeal had sounded like a nightmare to you as you stared into the mirror at your own reflection, knowing that no matter how many alterations were made by the seamstress, a beautiful dress would not give you even a fraction of the confidence you’d need to walk into the ballroom with your head held high. You just weren’t built like the other girls with their slender arms and narrow waists. You’d accepted and come to terms with that fact long ago. Perhaps you would be able to find a decent husband eventually, but surely a young, rich, handsome bachelor wouldn’t spare you a second glance when there were bound to be plenty of other options available to him.

These thoughts remained at the forefront of your mind, even as your name was called to enter the ballroom. You tugged up your elbow length gloves and adjusted your skirt, hoping by some chance that you could find some comfort in your own skin at the last minute. After a stern glare from your father though, you accepted your fate and stepped forward to be greeted by the hosting family. Your parents exchange pleasantries with the couple waiting just inside while your focus shifts to the son standing beside them.

For a moment, you forget your shyness as your gaze meets with a set of kind hazel eyes belonging to one of the most handsome faces you’d ever seen. He was attractive in all the ways you’d expect from a dashing prince from a fairytale. He had short, dark hair and a strong jaw. Plus he was tall, but not so much that he towered over you. It was apparent as well that he spent a fair amount of time outdoors from his tanned skin and more muscular build. He was absolutely perfect.

“I don’t believe we’ve met before.” Your name glides off his tongue in a smooth tone, and the corner of his mouth twitches into a boyish grin as he takes your hand into his and places a soft kiss to the top of your fingers. Heat floods your cheeks but you somehow remember to bow your head and curtsey.

“It’s a pleasure sir,” you say with as much confidence as you can.

“The pleasure is mine,” he replies quickly, “And please, call me Hajime.”

“Oh!” Inexplicably, a blush takes over your face a second time. “Right! Hajime.” For a pause, a silence falls over the both of you, and it almost seems as if a light dusting of pink appears over his cheeks and nose as well.

“Come along now, we mustn’t hold up the line.” Your father’s voice cuts through the moment and suddenly you’re being ushered away from the doorway and farther into the ballroom where dozens of families are already making their way around the room to socialize. You blink in surprise and glance over your shoulder only to find yourself making eye contact with Hajime one more time. He smiles and nods before turning to greet his next guest.

Your parents continue to drag you around the room to say hello to friends and introduce you to the other young adults your age. Hajime, after all, was not the only single man in attendance looking for a wife. Once you’d made your rounds and found a place to rest for a minute, you deemed that everyone else seemed pleasant enough, but it was Hajime alone who had made you forget your insecurities completely. Your mother hadn’t been kidding when she’d called him ‘well bred.’ His manners were so impeccable that there had not been even a shadow of judgement in his eyes when he’d looked at you. In fact, the way he’d insisted you use his first name and how he’d continued to watch you after you’d walked away suggested his behavior was not simply just politeness, but actual genuine kindness.

After the last of the guests trickled through the door, the soft background music that you’d hardly noticed before changed into a more lively tune that was more appropriate for dancing. A few eager couples took to the dance floor right away, setting the example for the younger gentleman to start walking around the room to find their own partners. Soon enough, the whole ballroom seemed to come alive with swirling skirts, practiced steps, secret smiles, and cheeks rosey with happiness. The mood was jovial and you almost miss the fact that your worst fear is currently playing out. With a weary glance around, you notice you’re one of the girls who had not been asked to dance.

“Not to worry, dear. It’s only the first song.” Your mother attempts to cheer you up, but it is clear she’s trying to convince herself just as much as she is you. With one big deep breath, you push back your disappointment and shake your head. It was fine if you weren’t picked first today. Actually, it would be fine if you weren’t picked at all. Now that you had entered society as an adult, you would have more opportunities to meet and socialize with others. In more intimate settings, you’d be able to show off your other skills such as your singing, poetry, or sense of humor. Like most girls, you were equipped with a whole arsenal of talents that would help you appear more eye-catching and impressive.

“Excuse me.”

You blink in surprise when Hajime suddenly appears in front of you, his face flushed red though no less handsome than when you’d met him at the doorway. His eyes flit between your parents before settling back on you. Your breath catches in your throat when he bows slightly and offers his hand to you.

“Would you like to dance?”

Once again, it feels as if time had come to a standstill for a few brief seconds as you wrap your mind around the fact that this was really happening. You feel a slight nudge from your mother which prompts you to nod your head and take Hajime’s hand. Butterflies erupt in your tummy at the contact and it feels like slow motion as he links his arm with yours and leads you towards the dance floor. Little did you know, he was experiencing the same sensation of butterflies as you.

“I can’t believe I was able to ask you first,” the words slip from Hajime’s mouth in a whisper before he can stop them and he glances over at you quickly, feeling heat rush to his cheeks when he realizes you’d heard him.

“What do you mean?” You ask him breathlessly after finding a place to stand among the other dancers. Hajime moves to stand in front of you, trying to look more confident than he felt while taking one of your hands into his own. He’d never been allowed to be this close to a girl before, and while the opportunity to finally do so was exciting, it also made him a tad nervous. He takes a second to shake off the jitters before resting his other hand on the plush of your waist, smiling at the softness of you under his touch.

“I knew I had to dance with you as soon as we met earlier,” he feels the blush on his cheeks deepen as he recalls how quickly you’d earned his attention when walking into the ballroom. He’d instantly become enamored by the cuteness of your round cheeks and shy smile. The way your dress had accentuated your curves had also made his heart gallop in his chest. “Unfortunately, when the music started I got pulled into a conversation by another guest. I thought for sure someone else would’ve gotten to you by the time I managed to politely excuse myself, but it seems I got lucky.”

“Surely there was no need to rush,” you tell him as he leads you smoothly through the steps of the song. “The party has only just begun.You could’ve danced with me anytime.” Hajime flashes that boyish grin at you again with a playfulness in his eyes.

“My dance instructor told me that dancing often leads to falling in love,” he teases. “That’s why I knew I had to dance with you first and leave a strong impression.” The blush he elicits from you makes him want to reach out and brush his fingers against your cheek, but he knows the drama he’d create if anyone caught him doing something that bold. Every parent in the room had their eyes glued to the dance floor, watching for hints of romance or inappropriate behavior. Either one would have rumors spreading like wildfire and he would never forgive himself if he somehow brought embarrassment down upon you.

“I still don’t understand,” you say softly, but the hopeful look in your eyes told Hajime that you probably did.

“I think you’re beautiful.” Once again, words slip from his lips without permission and it very quickly flusters the both of you. Hajime almost stumbles on the next step as he tries to apologize. “Sorry,” the red on his face had spread to his ears now. “It’s just… I believe I’d be interested in getting to know you better if that’s acceptable to you.”

“It’s more than acceptable,” he feels your hand squeeze onto his and responds by rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, wondering how soft your skin would be if it weren’t for the fabric of your gloves as a barrier. “Actually, I dare say I feel the exact same way.”

“That makes me extremely happy,” he replies with that handsome smile on his face once again. All too soon, the first song of the evening comes to an end, and Hajime escorts you back over to your parents before giving another bow.

“Thank you for the dance,” he tells you, eyes lingering on yours with a fondness you never would’ve expected just a few minutes before. “I hope you’ll save at least one more for me before the night is over.”

“I don’t think that sounds like too much to ask,” you agree with a teasing lilt in your voice that showed a new, more confident side of yourself. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“As am I,” he grins back, forgetting himself for just a moment as he takes your hand and presses a gentle kiss to it for the second time that day. He straightens back up and gives a polite nod to your parents before heading off to find his next partner. As much as you wanted to spend more time with him, it was considered rude to show preference by dancing with one person twice in a row.

The rest of the ball seemed to fly by in a whirlwind of music, dancing and excitement. You even managed to receive a handful of other invitations to dance with gentlemen throughout the night, all of whom you could admit were lovely and polite but just not as special as Hajime seemed to be. He was the only one who made you feel like a princess as you fell into step with the music. The chemistry between you did not go unnoticed either, and by the time your parents decided it was time to call it a night, they’d already arranged a day to have the Iwaizumi family over for dinner. A warm happiness enveloped you as you prepared for bed that night, already looking forward to seeing Hajime again and thinking that maybe turning eighteen hadn’t been such a horrible thing after all.

#curvesandkissescollab💋#Hajime Iwaizumi x Reader #Haikyuu x Reader #chubby!reader #plus size!reader #tw: body image #Iwa x Reader #Iwaizumi x Reader #Cindy's Writing

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loveislattes · 3 years

Text

1 + 10 = Dark and Primal (Predator/Prey) Kink

Summary: Exactly what the title says!

Warnings: Reader is gender-neutral but does own a vagina, primal kink roleplay, semi-public sex, dom/sub, squirting, multiple orgasms, and dirty talk. Ye have been warned!

A/N: This is the first fic drabble to come from the number prompt game!

Tag List:

@when-the-sun-goes-dark

@underthedark13

@fruitypieq

As always, if you would like to support me, I have a Ko-Fi (here) for donations/tips and I usually have a few slots open for commissions (unless life gets in the way)!

“Tell me something,” A deep, rich voice spoke suddenly, “What’s a darling thing like you doing out here, all alone, so late at night?”

Instantly your head whipped to the side, eyes narrowing to scrutinize the tree line for any sign of the stranger, but found nothing other than darkness in return. You were about ready to continue on your trek and blame it on the sleepless night when the intruder let out a rumbling chuckle, the noise echoing around you in every direction.

Hairs now standing on end, you clutched your bag tighter to your body and asked nervously, “Who-Who’s there?”

“Answer my question, and I’ll answer yours.”

Your lips suddenly felt too dry, the night too cold, the lamp posts too dim, as you belatedly realized that you’d not seen another person on this sidewalk for way too long. It was just you and this stranger.

“I-I’m just walk-walking,” you stammered pitifully.

Dread pooled in your gut and the sense of being utterly alone and helpless intensified egregiously as one by one all the lamp posts in your line of sight flickered out.

“Ooh fuck,” you whispered.

Finally, your self-preservation instinct kicked in and you took off running. It was a dark night, the moon a sliver in waning crescent and providing almost no light. Every slap of your shoes on the ground felt like a league farther from the man. Even as your heart pounded in your ears and your lungs burned with the taste of blood, you didn’t dare slow down. How far would you have to run? Did you dare take your chances hiding out in the woods?

As soon as hope started to rise, it was quickly dashed back down.

“You humans, so fragile.”

The whispered voice in your ear tore a frantic scream from your throat, fear locking up your legs, sending you tumbling forward. Of course you would fall! It wasn’t until he laughed, a smooth luscious sound, that you realized you were braced tight for an impact that hadn’t come.

“What the…”

When your eyes finally opened, you saw the concrete of the sidewalk uncomfortably close to your face but not touching. And then you were lifted. Darkness shrouded your view as arms tightened around your torso and brought you back to your own two feet. A cool gentle breath caressed the shell of your ear seconds before you felt the familiar shape of a nose against your neck.

“I’m giving you one last chance,” he huffed bemusedly, “Think fast but run faster, little fawn, for it will take all of your abilities to escape me.”

“W-Who are you?!” you gasped out.

As the darkness left your vision and the hands retracted from your sides, he purred almost imperceptibly, “I go by Dark, but you may call me sir.”

Then all at once, you were alone. You hesitantly looked around, eyes wide with fear.

“RUN!”

A fearsome screech of terror scratched your throat raw as you stumbled and took off as quickly as possible. You knew if you stayed on the paved path he’d only catch you just as easily as before. You had to chance the forest.

No matter how quiet you tried to be, it felt like every noise you made called out to him thricefold. Your breaths sounded like alarms in your ears and the forest floor cried out like little spies with every timid step you made.

“Oh little fawn, where might you be?”

“Shit,” you whispered in shock.

How were you ever to evade him? It was obvious he wasn’t human. There was no possible way a human could catch up to you without making noise, could track you so perfectly in a nearly pitch black forest. Of course there were also the insane reflexes, catching you so close to the ground, and his ability to speak clearly to you while being nowhere in sight.

Oh so slowly, you let your guard down as you shuffled carefully through the heavily wooded area and got lost in your thoughts; finding out what he was, felt as important as hiding from him. A soft noise of triumph escaped your lips as you spotted a rather large hollow in the base of a giant tree. Your eyes darted around one last time to make sure you didn’t see anyone before you ducked into the wood shelter.

Just as your back pressed up against the trunk, you heard a twig snap outside. The forest was uncannily quiet, no sound of animals nor wind to impede noises made by either you or him.

“A smart little thing you are, aren’t you?”

Your breath caught as fear slammed your heart into your ribcage like a drum. His voice was close, too close. Another crunch of branches and leaves drew your eyes to the right of your hollow. Even in the darkness of the woods, his black pants stood out against the greens and browns. Your assailant was wearing… suit pants? Despite the silliness of the situation, your nerves only increased as he crept closer and closer to you.

“Where are you?” he sang out lowly.

Hushed humming graced your ears delightfully as he passed you, hands clasped behind his back as if simply taking a nice stroll. You couldn’t control the way your stomach fluttered as the beautiful cadence of his voice filled the hollow. Someone so dangerous shouldn’t sound so inviting.

A quick rush of air released from your lungs as he continued on without incident and relief filled your veins. Head falling back, you let your eyes close and took deep slow breaths.

“It’s adorable that you think you’ve won, my little fawn.”

There wasn’t a word deep enough to describe the bone-chilling terror that flooded your body at the sound of his voice so close. Slowly your eyes fluttered open, only to discover a pair of legs standing in front of your only exit.

“Come out now, admit defeat, and I might even be gentle with you, darling,” he offered slyly.

“Fuck you,” you grit out.

Before you could second guess your actions, you bolted forward, right into his legs. While you were sure you didn't harm him, your actions surprised him enough to allow you the room to shove by. You had made it only a couple feet when hands were on you, one gripping your shoulder while the other pinched around the nape of your neck. A cry of shock and pain fled your lips as he shoved you face-first up against the nearest tree and pinned you with his body. Escape was looking more and more like a fool’s dream and yet you didn’t stop wiggling, trying your hardest to break free to no avail.

“Mmm, I do love it when my dinner puts up a fight, makes you smell all that more delectable,” he purred as his thigh slipped between yours, “And don’t fool yourself into believing I can’t smell just how aroused you are.”

Mortification burned up your face and you bit your lower lip hard to contain the distraught noise that threatened to break forth as he leaned into you. The pressure of his thigh served to further argue his point, your panties soaking up the slick between your thighs.

“P-Please,” you whispered shakily.

“Please what?” he mocked, “Please let you go? Now, you know I can’t do that, darling. I’m absolutely ravenous and you’re ripe for the taking.”

Teeth gently grazed the tender flesh of your throat and sent goosebumps across your flesh.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had such a sweet little human to play with,” he groaned quietly.

Fingers teased the sliver of skin poking from beneath your top, tracing the waistband of your shorts with languid little strokes; teeth mimicking the action against your neck.

“Don’t pretend you don’t want this, darling. I’ve smelled your interest since the instant you started to run,” he whispered, giving another gentle roll of his hips.

Before you could contain it, an excited little squeak escaped as you felt the hardening bulge grind against your ass.

“There it is. Give in to me,” Dark murmured, “I promise this will be an experience unlike any other.”

You didn’t dare give an answer. The words felt too wrong on your tongue despite the sudden urge in your body demanding an agreement. As terrifying as he was, there was something about his presence that intrigued you. It felt like there was a war going on in your head as you gingerly wiggled your hips back against him and tilted your head to the side, allowing him full access to your neck.

The moan he gave in return made your knees weak.

In one rough movement, you heard the tell-tale rip of your shorts being ruined and then your hips were lifted in the next.

“Ooh, look at the mess you’ve made of yourself, little fawn,” he cooed mockingly as a finger danced across your lips, “It will be all the easier to make you mine.”

That was your only warning before his cock was lined up against your cunt, thick head breeching every so slightly before he slammed in. Tears sprung up into your eyes and you buried your face harder against the bark as a pathetic cry warbled out. It was devastating and heavenly all at once. When he didn’t follow up immediately, you couldn't help but arch back into him.

“What a needy little thing you are,” he chuckled, “I’m going to have so much fun with you before I destroy you.”

Never in a thousand years did you think you’d find yourself in this position, being hunted down and fucked in the middle of the forest, and yet there wasn’t a place you’d rather be in that moment.

Dark’s pace was brutal, the position even more so. Every thrust of his cock rocked you up against the tree, bark scraping and digging at your skin. Every attempt to move back sunk him deeper inside you. It felt like a never ending sea of desire. It wasn’t long until you were begging for more, until the sting of the micro cuts on your skin was just another layer to the destructive pleasure coiling in your core.

“You want more? You want to come? Then touch yourself,” he ordered huskily, “Rub your clit and make yourself come on my cock while I claim you as mine.”

His meaning came through loud and clear. He intended to mark you in the most primitive of ways, in ways no one had before. You’d never let any other come inside you, too afraid of the risks.

“N-No, don’t-”

Fingers dug into your wrist and jerked your hand down between your cunt and the tree, forcing you where you wanted it most.

“It’s no use, darling, it’s too late,” he snickered, “You’re already in the lion’s den and there’s no escape. Not anymore. You belong to me now.”

You could feel his teeth bared a wicked smile against your skin before they clamped down around your throat. Pain exploded and pulsed through your veins with every beat of your racing heart, and yet it pervertedly only urged you faster. Your fingers shook under the duress of all the sensations assaulting your nerves but you worked them nonetheless, too lost to the desire.

His moan rumbled through your very being as you tightened uncontrollably around him, teetering just on the edge of bliss.

“Mine.”

That one word was spoken with such conviction and punctuated with absolute abandon, all sanity lost as you seemingly became a means to an end; a prey to claim and fill.

“Mine! All mine,” he snarled against your shoulder, “Give yourself to me, now!”

His hand came to cover yours and joined in the efforts, frantically abusing your sensitive nub until finally it all snapped.

“Ah f-fuck, D-Dark, oh my god!”

Your ruse slipped as his name spilled from your lips, but you couldn’t care less as everything coalesced with a vengeance. The pain, the pleasure, the emotions. It was all worth it as your pleasure drenched your thighs, a sob falling from your lips in debauched relief. Pulse after pulse of ecstasy rocked through your core as he fucked you through your first climax into another, and then another.

Stifled grunt and moans shifted gradually into full blown snarls of bliss as he threw your hands up against the tree, pinning both with one while his other arm wrapped around your waist and held you in place.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Shot after shot of hot cum filled your core, palpable with every throb of his cock, and you couldn’t resist melting back into him. With a final few thrusts, he released your hands only to pull you in close and hold you upright as he turned, putting himself between you and the tree as you both came down from the high.

“Holy hell,” you giggled, head tilting back to look up at him.

Dark gave a little chuckle and cupped your jaw, fingers digging into your cheeks and directing you up into a gentle kiss.

“I promised the full experience. Was anything too much?” he asked.

“Mm-mm. It was perfect,” you whispered.

As best as you could in the awkward position, you snuggled back into him and pulled his arms around you.

“You can hunt me any time you want,” you admitted cheekily.

#dark/reader #primal kink #predator/prey #kink prompt #smut #fanfic

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