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xxsabitoxx · 11 months

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Unfortunate

Hantengu Clones x AFAB! Reader

Warnings: this fic contains dub-con/non-con, anal sex, brainwashing, dumbification, gang banging, rough sex, bukkake,, cunnilingus, rough oral, hitting and marking, degrading, using the reader as nothing more than a toy, taunting.

A/N: this took me too damn long. Curse this month bro, I haven’t had an time at all to sit down and write. Regardless, it’s better late than never right? So here it is, the full length fic. Also ignore the way the paragraphs get progressively longer. It just happens as I write and it’s no use trying to cut them in half lmao

Word count: 7.1K

“A village by the north mountains.” you mumbled to yourself, walking through the empty streets that made up the barely there village. “Some shit this is…” you grumbled again, your findings had been less than pleasant upon your arrival. The village itself consisted of only a few homes, less than ten from what you could tell. The larger of the buildings was likely a combination of essentials for the few residents that reside here. Though you couldn’t be certain any of them were left.

You had arrived to a massacre without any bodies, something that would look like a gruesome bear attack to any passerby. Though, you expected such a scene given the fact that it had taken you three days to arrive here. “How was there no one closer…” you still couldn’t figure out why you had been sent. It was obvious from the start that you’d never make it in time, yet your crow screeched for hours on end about how you must hurry to the decrepit little village at the base of the north mountains. It sucked, to say the least.

“Anyone out there?” Your voice bounced off of the empty homes, splatters of dried blood clinging to their walls. The doors had been ripped off their hinges, windows shattered and the remains laid sparkling on the dirt. It was a lost cause, you knew that, yet for some reason you kept trudging forward. It was eerie, nothing but the moon above illuminating the world around you. The silence wasn’t helping the chill running up your spine, it was obvious that the sooner you got out of here the better.

“Last call! If anyone is out there, make yourself known!” You peaked into the second to last home, confirming no remains and no survivors. “This is a waste of time.” You groaned, picking up your pace as you began making your way down to the last home. From what you could tell, the windows had been broken but the door seemed to still be intact. Maybe they’d run away to a nearby town with a tall tale of a demon attack, treated for minor injuries and hysteria. Though it was likely wishful thinking.

It didn’t hit you until you were a few feet away from the door, blood running cold as you sensed a presence. Immediately your hand flew to the hilt of your sword, heart rate spiking as you moved to take a step forward. Something was preventing you from calling out again, the presence in that house felt wrong to you. You pulled at your blade, unsheathing it a fraction as you pushed your body forward. Just before reaching the home, the door opened itself. At least that’s what your initial thought was until you looked down.

Your mouth seemed to dry up, the scent of that demon was undoubtedly an upper rank. It seemed to be an old man, crawling on all fours out of the home with tears streaking his unsettling face. You couldn’t even make out what he was whining about as he pushed himself into the moonlight. It took you less than a second to collect yourself, diving forward with your blade drawn as you swung for his neck. When your flames subsided you realized you had missed, he was no longer in front of you either.

He was wailing loudly now, your head whipped around to the source. He was behind you, clinging to the corner of one of the houses with tears still sliding down his cheeks. There was no denying it now, his appearance was misleading, his speech was that of an upper rank and so was his scent. You moved forward again, swinging your blade to unleash another fire breathing attack. This time, your blade connected, pain shooting up your arm as it sliced clean through the demon’s neck and slammed into the side of the house.

“Dammit!” You flinched as you brought your sword back, it had only chipped a bit but it was still more than capable of protecting you. The rush of adrenaline that shot through you wasn’t because of the fact that you had beheaded an upper rank. No, it was quite the opposite really. Your entire body seemed to come to life as you watched the severed head grow itself a new body. All the while, the headless body had seemed to replace its missing head.

He… no, they were younger now, your eyes widening as they both straightened. One held an odd looking staff, eyes glowing red as he looked you over with a scowl. The one beside him was holding a fan, green eyes boring into yours as his tongue stuck out. You swore it had the word relaxed on it, yet you were equally as sure that your fear was making you hallucinate. Without hesitation, you dove at the one with green eyes, not processing that he was lifting his odd fan in your direction.

Before you could even lift your blade, you were sent flying backwards, body slamming into the house behind you. A scream of pain left you as you landed, body throbbing as you pushed yourself upwards despite your muscles screaming in protest. It took you a moment to realize your ears were ringing, the noise only beginning to subside as his laughter finally reached you. The one with green eyes had a smirk plastered to his face as his laughing died down. “Oh she’s a feisty one, huh Sekido?”

“She’s a nuisance.” The red eyed demon finally spoke, moving to lift his staff as you surged forward again. Part of you knew this was a useless battle, there was no way you could take an upper rank on your own and expect to walk out of it unscathed. If anything, it pissed you off that you’d likely die on a shitty mission like this. One that should have been avoided altogether really. For some reason, his staff never hit the ground, not bothering to avoid your assault as you sliced his head clean off again.

The green eyed demon began cackling again, the noise high pitched and maniacal as he watched his other half separate once more. You jumped back, the screeching laughter pushing you over the edge as you brought down another attack on the green eyed demon. His laughter didn’t stop, even as his head was removed from his body. Rather, he laughed just a bit harder. You flew back again, eyes watching in disbelief as the bodies split off again. Both bodies gained new heads, both heads gained new bodies.

You had fucked up, big time. “Such a stupid thing! You couldn’t figure out that we wanted you to do this?” The green eyed demon laughed again, watching as you looked between the three of them. Laughing just a bit harder as you realized only three of them stood before you. “I-but…” there was a fourth. You were certain of it… so where the hell did he go? “Karaku…you’re so loud…” the blue eyed demon whined, eyes locked on you as he referred to the green eyed demon. “Shut it, Aizetsu.”

The red eyed one spoke again, staff hovering just a bit off the ground as he scowled at you. “You’re probably wondering where the fourth one went, huh sugar?” The green eyed demon taunted you, completely torn, you couldn’t figure out where to look. If your eyes left the three of them they’d likely attack. If you didn’t try to figure out the location of the fourth, it was likely he’d kill you instead. “C’mon, little slayer… Show us what you got…” the blue eyed demon spoke, voice somber and eyes filled with sadness.

“Urogi, quit playing around.” The red eyed demon bellowed, another name, but your brain was going too fast to remember it. The flapping of wings pulled you from your daze, head whipping in the direction of the noise but it was too late. Two claws grabbed around your waist, the sudden thrust upward knocking your blade straight from your grasp. A scream of shock left you as you were torn straight off the ground, head flying upwards to see what had grabbed you. Somehow, it was the fourth demon.

He looked just as the other three did, the only differences being his eyes and his limbs. Golden eyes stared down at you, a familiar smirk on his lips. Instead of arms and legs, he had claws. His limbs resembled that of a bird or reptile, large wings expanding behind him. You jerked as he stopped, hovering in the air as he looked you over. It wasn’t until he raised his legs that you realized he was using them to grasp you opposed to his arms. “What a pathetic thing you are…” he laughed as he let you go.

You began to plummet to the ground, body and mind so disconnected from your reality that you couldn’t even muster a scream before he swooped down to grab you again. Now, you were facing him, eyes wide and chest heaving. “You humans are so easy to break… though I must say I’ve never seen the fighting spirit leave someone as quickly as it left you.” He admired your petrified face, slowly descending until he was in earshot of his other halves. “Yah know, Sekido? We shouldn’t kill her just yet…”

His eyes trailed over your body, a cruel grin covering his face as he spoke. “Why don’t we have some fun with her? It’s been years since I’ve gotten my fill of human…desire.” The implications had you feeling hot, panic ebbing up the back of your neck as you squirmed in his grasp. “Oh? There it is…” he dropped you a moment later. The fall wasn’t a big one but it still hurt when you hit the ground. The panic was mixing with dread as you realized what the situation was turning to. “Fun? Urogi why can’t we just eat her…” the blue eyed demon whined softly as he stared at you.

“Oi, Aizetsu don’t be such a prude…” the green eyed demon spoke, walking over to where you sat on the ground. He crouched before you, smiling in a way that made you want to run. “She’d certainly have a good time, don’t you think Sekido? You know we need your approval to do anything…” he turned to look at the red eyed demon, a soft thump behind you told you that the winged demon had landed. You met the red eyed demon’s gaze, swallowing thickly as you waited for him to decide your fate.

“There are rules…you know. We each get a turn, no hogging her.” You got the chills, listening intently to the demons conversing about having their way with you. “Listen here, sugar.” The green eyed demon grabbed your face, keeping your attention on him as he spoke. “We’re gonna have a hell of a time with you… satisfy us and maybe we’ll let you leave here with your life.” Behind you, the winged demon snickered, feet dragging on the ground as he too crouched behind you. “You’ll be able to satisfy the four of us with your body, right?”

You didn’t speak, tears burning your eyes as you stared at the green eyed demon gripping your cheeks. “C’mon, answer him, little slayer. It’s not polite to ignore.” The blue eyed demon had somehow closed the distance, crouching down beside you as well. Three out of the four demons surrounded you, the red eyed demon that seemed to be their leader of sorts was still standing by the house he crawled out of. You opened your mouth but nothing came out, you weren’t even sure how to respond.

“You’ll be able to satisfy us, right?” One set of claws gripped your shoulder, tugging you back a bit so you’d be forced to look up at him. You flinched as you did, the green eyed demon’s hand was still gripping your cheeks. “Y-yes…” broken and weak, though the look in his eyes told you that’s just what he wanted to hear. “Good…Oi, Sekido? When can we start?” The yellow eyed demon grinned up at his counterpart, watching him set his staff to the side and finally join you all in the middle of the dirt road. “Now. Karaku, undress her, I’ll let the three of you have free reign for now.”

You swallowed, a noise of surprise leaving you as a single claw ripped your top open from being. “He asked me, Urogi.” The green eyed demon, Karaku, scowled as he moved to rip your uniform pants off of you. “You’ll take years, Karaku… let me help.” Cold air reached your skin simultaneously, pants and top being torn from your body, no longer able to hide any of your skin. “Ah, how modest humans are wearing under garments. How lame.” You felt your face growing warm as the blue eyed demon took you in. “It’s quite useless, I mean really the garment is so thin…”

Your legs were forcefully spread, as if to prove the point of the blue eyed demon. “She smells good, doesn’t she?” Your pants had been discarded, so had your top, nothing but a thin chest binding and your underwear were left to shield you from their wandering hands. “Fear and…arousal?” The winged demon began to laugh, clawed hands coming down to grope your breasts. “She looks ready to cry and yet her body is clearly reacting to this situation.” The green eyed demon kept your legs spread wide, allowing the blue eyed demon to bend down and get a closer look.

“You wanna eat her, don’t you Aizetsu… that smell is so intoxicating…” you could barely pay attention, the rough treatment on your breasts was making your head spin. You hated that arousal was pooling in your gut, cunt throbbing with need as three pairs of eyes stared at you. “I do… you’ll let me go first, right?” His hands were on you now, six hands total touching your body. It was dizzying, “yeah sure, I know you’ll bitch if I don’t… Urogi, take off the chest covering, it’s not necessary.” The green eyed demon shifted out of the way, hands still keeping your thighs spread.

The blue eyed demon, Aizetsu, was tearing your underwear straight off. Perfectly timing it with the winged demon’s motions of slicing your chest covering off. Now, you were completely bare, breasts and cunt on full display for the demons before you. How utterly humiliating. Tears burned your eyes again, this time they broke through the barrier and dripped down your cheeks. “Aww, that needy? How fucking filthy…” your eyes squeezed shut, arms and legs thrashing in their grasp as they held you in place. The green-eyed demon laughed, accompanied by his winged counterpart. Their laughter creates an unbearable symphony.

“C’mon now, no need to fight back. We’re not completely heartless… you’ll enjoy yourself…” his grip tightened painfully, a cry leaving your lips as you thrashed harder. “Aizetsu, quit sitting there like an idiot… get to work.” He mumbled some sort of complaint as he got down on his stomach, the position was too much for you to handle. Your head turned away, limbs giving up their useless fight of escaping the demons’ grasp. Aizetsu moved closer, hands accompanying Karaku’s on your thighs. His breath was fanning over your cunt, uttering a quiet “Itadakimasu” before delving in. You squealed, body thrashing at the sensation of his tongue.

A loud noise slipped past your lips, vibrating your throat as the demon below you kitten licked your cunt. “C’mon now, enjoy it… you won’t find anyone else to give you head like Aizetsu will.” The green demon cooed, face close to yours as his blue eyed counterpart found his rhythm. You could no longer thrash, their grips tightened almost suffocatingly as the blue eyed demon’s lips suctioned to your clit. You could taste blood with how hard you were biting your lip, desperate to not let any noises out. The green eyed demon seemed to catch on, two fingers coming up to pinch your nose. “Ah ah, you’re going to tell us how good we do.”

You gasped for air a moment later, head tilting back into the winged demon’s shoulder as two fingers stretched you open. Aizetsu was lapping hungrily, collecting your arousal on his tongue. He was whining, the feeling sensing vibrations through your clit as his fingers squelched with each thrust in and out of your cunt. Your body betrayed you, seemingly becoming wetter with each passing second. “Damn, hear that Sekido? Aizetsu’s getting her all worked up.” The winged demon behind you cackled, the green eyed one was far too engulfed by the sight. You couldn’t stop the noises you were making, mine fully focused on the pleasure washing over you as he curled his fingers.

“F-fuck…” you choked, eyes shutting as he grazed a particular spot inside of you. “Oh? Do that again, Aizetsu.” Kakaru smirked, gaze shifting from your cunt and your face. Aizetsu whined loudly, sucking your clit harshly and curling his fingers the way he had a moment prior. You convulsed, hips jerking despite their grip on you. You felt it then, the familiar build up in your gut, he was going to make you come. You became more vocal, body giving in to the pleasure he was providing. You held no shame, mind clouded with the desire to reach your climax. Your thighs tensed, a jumble of words slipping past your lips. “Hmm? What was that?” The winged demon cooed in your ear, eyes just barely peeking over to where he was still gripping your breasts.

“…onna…gonna…” you mumbled it over and over as if it were a prayer. Your entire body seemed to be set in fire, the tingling sensations shooting up your spine and down to your toes causing them to curl. “Oh! You’re going to cum aren’t you? All over Aizetsu’s mouth right? I’m sure he’d love to feel your tight cunt squirm around his fingers… right Aizetsu?” The winged demon hugged you tighter, motioning for the green eyed demon to do something you couldn’t see. The demon between your legs only seemed to work harder, fingers moving quicker as he focused all of his attention on your throbbing clit. The green eyed demon keeping your legs apart began massaging your thighs, the sensation enough to push you over the edge as you cried out.

You wailed, body convulsing in pleasure as your orgasm crashed down around you. You couldn’t hear anything outside of the ringing, vision growing spotty as you tried to force air back in your lungs. You hadn’t even realzied the mess you created until the blue eyes demon pushed himself into a kneeling position, a wet patch seeping into the dirt below. You half expected the death grip the winged demon had on you to loosen, he wouldn’t of course. His grip was still tight, eyes shifting around to look at his counterparts… not that you could see it. “Oi, Aizetsu good job…” Karaku laughed, eyes landing on Sekido with a relaxed smile. “Aizetsu had his fun, who’s turn is next? You better say me.” The green eyed demon was doing nothing to hide his erection.

Your limbs felt like jelly, body going slack in the clawed grip of the demon behind you. “It’s your turn, Karaku. Throat fuck her.” Those three words snapped you back to reality, watching as the blue eyed demon was pushed roughly out of the way. “I thought you’d never grant me the fucking permission. You don’t have to tell me twice.” The blue eyed demon groaned as he was essentially tossed aside, whining loudly at the green eyed demon for being so mean. You couldn’t muster any sort of reaction, instead your lips parted obediently. “Oh? Already becoming a well behaved little bitch Hmm? You want my cock don’t you?” Karaku was undoing his pants as he spoke, the winged demon still toying with your breasts while the blue eyed demon decided to sit back and watch.

You swallowed at the sight of him, he was a sizable length with veins running up his shaft. His skin was tanned, the tip was angry red and leaking precum already.. “keep your mouth open.” He’s pumping himself slowly, studying your eyes as your pupils dilate. He can’t help but chuckle at the fact that you’re already that far gone. “Leave it to Aizetsu’s wimpy ass to break her. One orgasm was all it took Hmm? Now you’re a needy little bitch in heat.” He’s pressing the tip to your tongue, holding back a shaky whine as your tongue wiggles around it. “Hold her tight, Urogi.” The winged demon holds you tighter, a loud whine emitting from your mouth as he rolls your nipples between his claws. His front is warm against your back, his breath still fanning against your neck.

You can’t help but close your eyes as the green eyed demon plunged his entire length down your throat. A loud whine changes to a strangled gag at the sudden intrusion. “Fuck…” it’s low, just barely audible to you over your struggled swallows. He draws back, watching as you blink your eyes open, lashes already clumped together from tears. “Oh that’s a pretty sight…” Karaku sighs, completely oblivious to his counterparts' gazes. All that matters to him right now is you and the pretty tears leaking down your cheeks. He doesn’t give you much time to prepare before he’s shoving himself back in. Karaku repeats this motion over and over, not slowing even as saliva drips down your chin and onto Urogi’s clawed hands. “Sekido…”

The winged demon is peering over your shoulder, watching his counterpart’s cock disappear between your lips over and over. “Let me fuck her… please this is too easy for an eager bitch like her.” You’re too focused on the dick in your mouth to even acknowledge the one prodding your back. “Not allowed… I’m the only one that will get to fuck her properly.” his tone is final, not even Aitzetsu bothers to fight that command. Yet, Urogi won’t settle for just your throat like Karaku. “Cmon Sekido! Please… she has more than a mouth and cunt you know.” The red eyed demon scowled at the implication. “You’re nothing more than an animal, Urogi.” The ladder didn’t take offence, rather, he laughed.

“Is that permission?” He cooed, clawed hands squeezing your breasts just a bit harder as you choked and wailed around Karaku’s cock. Sekido huffed, eyes pulling away from Urogi and back to your face. “Go ahead.” You’re being pushed around, the green eyed demon quickly grabbing hold of your head to keep you in place as the winged demon behind you lets you go. You’re shivering at the lack of warmth, not realizing how cold the night air was until his body heat was gone. “You’re doing good for a bitch that was trying to run away earlier.” He’s gripping your hair so tight you think he may rip it out of your head all together. His moans are echoing along the empty village houses, reminding you of just how atrocious these four demons truly are.

“You can take it right? You’re handling my cock so eagerly, surely a whore like you can take it up the ass.” Panic ebbed through your body, no longer overwhelmed by the way he fucked your throat. Rather, your focus was on the pair of claws pushing you forward, hands scrambling to brace yourself using the green eyed demon’s thighs. You felt embarrassment flood your cheeks, tears flowing freely down your cheeks as his claws spread you open. You’d never even dreamt of doing anything… down there. Now, you had no choice. “This will do, since Sekido’s too selfish to share her pussy.” The red eyed demon rolled his eyes “don’t make me revoke my blessing.” The position itself was humiliating, your nails digging into the demon’s flesh as something warm prodded your ass.

You whined, something that sounded like a strangled “no.” But that didn’t stop him, his claws were back on you a moment later, dragging you back towards him. You squealed loudly as the motion forced him inside of you. It wasn’t gentle but it wasn’t harsh either, regardless the intrusion felt foreign, making you squirm as parts of you were stretched in ways you’d never felt before. Karaku showed you no mercy, fucking your throat without missing a beat. Your panic was making your throat restrict, which only made it better for him. You felt as if all air was sucked from your lungs, body completely paralyzed under their relentless attacks. “C’mon Karaku, now is no time to show off your stamina…” It seemed as if he could go on forever.

“Shut… the fuck up… Urogi.” He couldn’t slow his hips even if he wanted to, your mouth was too addictive. The other demon only laughed, using it as a way to hide his strangled gasping. You were suffocatingly tight, clenching around him so hard it was nearly painful. “H-ha… Sekido wants to be selfish… therefore I’ll go for the next best thing. I bet your ass is even tighter than your cunt.” His lips were against your ear, making sure you heard him over your ceaseless gagging. It didn’t take long for him to start his fast and brutal pace, exiting and reentering your ass over and over. You had no time to process, nor did you have time to adjust, rather your body was forced to try and accommodate the sudden intrusion. “Shit…shit…” he was finally losing his composure.

“There we go! About time Karaku, I was getting impatient.” For the first time, the red eyed demon seemed a bit pleased by the events taking place. The green eyed demon’s hands gripped your hair so tightly it brought a whole new cascade of tears streaming down your face. Paired with the relentless abuse of your bottom, you couldn’t understand why you were about to cum. The tension was building with each of Urogi’s thrusts, despite nothing you were used to being stimulated. You doubted you’d actually be able to reach your peak, rather it would be dangled right in front of your face, dragging you along the edge but never actually pushing you over. Your clit was throbbing, neglecting and wishing for the blue eyed demon’s mouth.

You glanced over at him, just barely able to see him over the hip of his green counterpart, your eyes locked briefly. His face morphed into one of shock, tanned cheeks turning a shade of bright red before forcing his gaze away. “Stop prolonging it, I want her to myself for a fucking minute.” Urogi stopped his thrusting, burying himself deeply until you were squirming from the full sensation. He wanted to hear your pretty cries, not muffled by Karaku’s dick shoved down your throat. The other only moaned out a “fuck off” before yanking himself from your mouth all together. You gasped for air, your throat hurting from the constant abuse he had bestowed on you. Karaku’s load hitting your face caught you by surprise, sticky cum pairing your mouth, cheeks and chest.

Accompanied by your tears and drool, Karaku completely ruined you. “How’s that? What you hoped I would do, Sekido?” He was panting, tucking himself away before collapsing on the cold ground, the four of you watched him wipe sweat from his brow, eyes closing as he settled his breathing. “He acts like he even did anything… I’ll show you real stamina.” Karaku on the other hand wasn’t even bothered by the backhanded comment. He was more than satisfied for the time being. You sat there now, knees spread as his arms came up to hook under your armpits and clasp together behind your head. You were completely immobile, fully at his mercy. Tears still leaked down your cheeks but at a much slower pace. “You can handle this…” again, right shading your ear.

Urogi’s hips began moving again, without anything occupying your mouth you truly had nothing to focus on but his cock shoved up your ass. How utterly humiliating that is, your eyes welled with tears as you thought about what this must look like from an outsider's viewpoint. Though your mind couldn’t wander for long, not when the red eyed demon was boring holes into you. You held his gaze with lidded eyes, lips parted and pussy dripping onto the dirt below you. You could see his jaw tense, patience wearing thin despite his emotion being anger. You were mildly impressed by that, maybe a little shocked at yourself for trying to seduce him over to you. You’d experienced all but one, in your lust clogged mind, you found yourself aching for him.

“Oh how easy it is to break the human spirit.” He talks softly, too softly for you to hear over the wild moans escaping the winged demon behind you. “She might be exactly what we are looking for.” Karaku was still relaxed on the ground, hands folded behind his head as he relished in the cool night air. “I don’t think she’ll let us keep her…I’d rather not kill her yet…” Aizetsu sighed, watching intently as Urogi used you. There was no right answer to a situation like this one, but you truly did seem so obedient. As awkward as it initially was, you found yourself starting to enjoy it. The sensation was odd but somehow he was hitting places you didn’t think would be possible, your orgasm still dangling in front of you but completely out of your reach without the extra stimulation you needed. “P-please…” you croaked out in a broken voice.

“Please? Please what…” He moaned, cock throbbing as you continued to suffocate him. He would cum by accident if you kept this up. “She probably wants you to rub her clit.” Karaku sighed in a cheerful tone, one eye peeking open to look at the lewd sight before him. “Oh? That's what you want? One wasn’t enough? Aitezu graced you with such a good one earlier.” you whimpered, hips falling back to meet his thrusts. The action was enough to catch him by surprise, a cruel laugh bubbling out of him. “What a needy little bitch… Aizetsu get over here.” Sekido didn’t argue as Urogi commanded the blue eyed demon, he was rather curious to see how it played out. Aitzetsu was up a moment later, crawling over to kneel in front of you with lidded eyes. “You want this?” he questioned softly as two fingers found your clit.

“Y-yes…please…” the friction alone was sending heat straight to your cunt. “Like this?” he questioned again, head coming close to yours as Urogi nearly thrusted you into him. In a weird way, you wanted to kiss him. “Yes… just like that…fuck.” you were too sensitive, your walls fluttering as your second orgasm crashed over you. You wailed, ears ringing from the intensity of your release. Your face was still sticky, covered in drying cum and tears. A moment later, the winged demon was pulling out of you, painting your back and ass in his pearly cum. “Fucking…shit…” his head fell back, wings expanding as he came down from his high. “T-there you go Sekido… her pussy is all yours to ruin.” Aizetsu was still rubbing your clit, fascinated by the way you fell into him while also trying to pull away from his touch.

“Aizetsu, leave her alone until I say.” The blue eyed demon huffed out a sigh, moving away from you entirely. Now, you were left on your hands and knees before the four demons. The winged one had joined the green eyed one on the ground, lounging as he watched his angry counterpart stalk towards you. “You’ve done surprisingly well for a little bitch that put up such a fight in the beginning. You liked being used as a toy, didn't you? I mean look at the way your pussy has been drooling, covering the ground in your slick arousal. Covered in my counterparts’ cum.” he’s undressing as he speaks, watching your lips quiver as you struggle to meet his eyes. “Don’t act shy all of a sudden, don’t think I overlooked the way you were undressing me with your eyes earlier. You were so desperate for someone to touch your needy little cunt.”

Sekido had begun to undress as he spoke to you, watching as your eyes devoured every inch of tan skin exposed to you. There was something different about seeing him undress, as if you hadn’t seen the bare bodies of his green and yellow eyed counterparts. Part of you had to wonder what the blue eyed demon looked like under all his clothing…how you hoped you would be granted the privilege. “It was so easy to break you, look at you. Kneeling on the ground, completely naked, not even trying to run. Though I wish you would… I rather enjoy the chase.” he’s dropping his robes on the ground, exposing a cock that is bigger than the other two you dealt with thus far. You had nothing to say, watching him with wide eyes as he observed you. “Well, if you’re going to be an obedient slut, turn around and stay on your hands and knees.

You did as you were told, switching your position so your ass and cunt faced him. Your head hung low, hips wiggling as you clenched around nothing at all. You couldn’t run away if you tried, you weren’t even sure why you would want to. Not when a dick like his was so eagerly waiting to fuck you. “Look at that, Urogi did a number on you and your back.” You weren’t even aware of the claw marks he had bestowed to your initially unmarred skin. A low thump told you that the red eyed demon had dropped to his knees behind you. What you didn’t expect was his tongue licking up your back. Blood and cum mixed together, a foul combination that the red eyed demon seemed to enjoy. “I nearly regret letting Aizetsu taste your sweet pussy first, I should have been the one to do it. If anything, I should have been first all together.”

You whined, hips shoving back as if that would get him inside of you quicker. A harsh slap to your already sensitive ass had a sob curdling in your throat. “Don’t rush me or I’ll leave you with nothing.” you stilled, waiting for him to grant you proper relief. “You’d make a perfect pet, you know. Get you a nice collar and keep you on a tight lease. You’d be at our beck and call like an obedient little bitch in heat. You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” He wanted you as a sex slave, the rational part of your mind that was still somewhat intact wanted to run away, the rest of your mind was screaming out “yes.” how true his words were, how easily broken you were. “C’mon, answer me or you’ll never get the cock you so eagerly want.” you swallowed, lust winning the argument as you cried out a broken “yes…please I want that so badly.”

“Atta girl…” you shrieked as he entered you in one go, splitting your walls apart as he bottomed out. “Shit…” you clenched, suctioning to his length so tightly he couldn’t pull himself out if he wanted to. You were warm, unbearably wet, soft and inviting. There weren’t enough words to describe the way you felt. “A demon like me doesn’t deserve this.” He choked out, panting as he waited for you to relax. He was the only one to give you a moment to adjust, little did you know it was fully designed for his benefit. Sekido couldn’t recall the last time he had experienced the warmth of a human embrace, probably decades ago if he truly had to guess. His stamina was well off, but your cunt was enough to unravel him in one plunge. “Can’t take it, can you Sekido.” You recognized the voice as the green eyed demon.

“Shut the fuck up.” he growled as his nails dug into your already tender thighs. As if to prove his point, he drew himself back, nearly pulling out all together before slamming back into you. You cried out again, nails digging at the frozen ground, searching for a way to keep yourself grounded as he picked up a deadly pace. Your entire body jiggled with each clap, his arms thrusting you forward and pulling you back to meet the thrust of his hips. The motions created an echoing symphony of skin hitting skin, wet squelches adding to it. You couldn’t breathe under the pressure, every drag of his cock grazed the points the winged demon had ghosted. You could feel warmth gushing out of you with each drag out of your cunt, dripping to the ground below.

The sight must have been nothing short of pathetic, your body betraying you, stomping your pride into the dirt beneath you. You were too sensitive, another orgasm sneaking up on you as your cunt quivered around his length. Your ears were ringing again, loud wails escaping as you quickly became overstimulated. Sekido never slowled, pounding into you with the same ferocity as before, calling you degrading names as his nails dug into your hips. The overstimulation grew unbearable but that wasn’t enough to stop him. A fresh wave of tears spilled down your cheeks, blurring your vision as a warm gush of liquid splattered across his thighs and the ground below. “Oh? How cute she knows how to squirt.” you were still sobbing as he pulled out of you.

“You aren’t quite deserving of my cum just yet, maybe you’ll earn it one day.” He grounded out, grabbing your hair and tugging you backwards. “Turn around and open your mouth like a good bitch.” he let you go, watching you fall over yourself as you tried to get low enough to take his length in your mouth. “Fucking…” he cut himself off, pumping his cock erratically before shoving the tip in your mouth. Salty, bitter cum coated your tongue. You swallowed, slurping as much of him as you could manage before he pushed you off of him all together. “Look at you, greedy little whore. You want more don’t you?” you nodded, eyes so heavy you could barely keep them open. “Aizetsu, fuck her throat since she seems to be thirsty.” You couldn’t be bothered to feel shame at this point, all you wanted now was the blue eyed demon’s cock.

He didn’t need to be asked twice, immediately undoing his bottoms to finally let out his aching cock. Unlike his counterparts, he was smaller. However, where he lacked in length, he made up for in girth. Eager and exhausted you nearly fell flat as you tried to make your way over to him. He met you halfway, hand gently grabbing your cheek and guiding you to him. Your jaw aches from the previous abuse but you open anyways, happily taking him into your mouth and lavishing him with your tongue. “Wh–ahh… what an unfortunate creature you are.” he’s looking away from you, unable to handle the sight of you licking his cock so fervently. “Look at her, Aitzetsu. Unless you think it would make you cum faster.” Karaku cackled as he whimpered.

His noise fueled you, relaxing your throat the best you could to take all of him. You swallowed, tears leaking down your cheeks still as you tried to pleasure him. The sad demon was far different than his counterparts, you were drawn to him because of it. He was seemingly gentler with you, softer and more whiny. He met your gaze again, cheeks blossoming a neon red as he tangled his fingers in your messy hair. You couldn’t feel the cold anymore, not even as you knelt bare before him, sticky from the mess his counterparts had made of you. Your tongue glided along the velvety skin, hand reaching up to toy with his balls. That earned a genuine cry from him, the noise making your clit throb despite how sensitive and used you felt.

He wasn’t trying to hold back, not caring if he came embarrassingly quick. He could tell you were slowly but surely losing the battle of staying conscious. Seconds away from giving up all together the moment the adrenaline wore off. It was likely due to his more timid nature, you foolishly felt safe in his presence. You moved quicker despite your body’s protest, wanting desperately for him to cum and make more of those cute noises. Tears pricked his eyes as his body tensed, gripping your hair tightly and pulling you off of him. Your hands moved before you could think, wrapping around him and pumping steadily until he came all over your face and chest. You felt filthy, body struggling to stay upright as stars blinked across your vision. You were finally giving in, nerves no longer keeping you upright as you collapsed forward into the dirt.

Aizetsu dropped to his knees, catching you just in time as your body went fully slack. “She lasted until all four of us were satisfied… she’s a tough one.” Karaku was pushing himself off the ground finally, watching Aizetsu use pieces of your torn up uniform to try and clean you off. “I take it we’re keeping her, right Sekido?” Urogi was standing now, stretching his wings dramatically as he yawned. “Might as well, she could be the perfect fit. Maybe if she proves herself over time, we can convince, master to turn her into a demon as well.” Karaku clicked his tongue. “He would never agree. Though we could ask Lord Douma…” Urogi flinched, watching Aizetsu haul you up bridal style. “That bastard would want a couple rounds with her before agreeing to that. I’m not willing to share outside of the four of us.”

“That’s not a decision for you to make, Urogi.” Sekido scolded, albeit he agreed. Aizetsu was silent, holding you patiently while waiting for the other’s commands. “We’ll leave here for now, keep her blade and tattered clothing where it is. It’s likely they’ll send more puny slayers to try and locate her. If they find nothing but that, they’ll assume she's dead.” Sekido was picking up his staff, moving to walk out of the village. The other three demons shared a glance before following after him with you in tow. It seems you would never be getting back to headquarters, a futile mission had completely altered your life. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

4K notes · View notes

messylustt · 1 year

Note

hii since u said you’d do something for stilinski can i request a fic where the alpha twins were just introduced and stiles and reader (best friends) like each other (everyone in the pack knows but them) and reader thinks stiles doesn’t like her so they start hanging out with the twins more and stiles gets jealous and it’s like a angry love confession and maybe smut?

++ thank u so much for taking the time to read & write this!! your writing is actually making me happy as sappy as that sounds💗💗

i need to watch teen wolf again — that shit was gooood, and thank you so much ur actually so sweet 🥹

౨ৎ ‧˚ 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝, 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫𝐬

jealous stiles; kissing; sorry no actual p in v — stiles getting jealous over the blooming friendship between you and the twins

"I want one." Lydia said, eyes focused behind you and Allison.

You both turn in your chairs to see the two new twins talking by a bookshelf. "Which one?" Allison asked, turning back. You kept your gaze on the twins, mainly for the fact that they were said—by your strange friend group—to be alphas.

Why they chose to go to school you could only guess. Most likely not to actually enjoy classes, but to keep an eye on said strange friend group.

"The straight one." You answered for Lydia. "I'd hope." You turn back in your chair to see Lydia narrowing her eyes.

You smile, just as Stiles slumps in the free chair beside you. Scott taking one beside Lydia. You glance back around at the twins, tilting your head in a slight observation.

Then you feel a poke on your arm. You turn your head to face Stiles, who is eyeing you with furrowed brows. "What are you looking at?"

"Our new classmates." You say, gazing back.

"You know they're alphas, right?" Stiles asks, making you nod. "Like, deadly...scary alphas?" He re-asks narrowing his eyes, as you chuckle.

"I heard they can shift into...like...one big werewolf." You say, in slight awe.

Stiles scoffs. "It's not that impressive."

"It kind of is." You mutter. Then you hear your seat scraping against the floor as Stiles jolts you around to face away from the twins.

"Do you know the distinction between friends and enemies?" Stiles asks, making you scoff. "Scott, did you know that y/n's rather stupid?" He asks Scott, making you elbow his arm.

"Yeah. She thinks the twins are cool." He continues, as you try to shut him up with your hand.

"I'm not the only one." You say defensively, before gesturing to Lydia, who is still eyeing up the straight twin.

"Well that's...Lydia." Stiles grabs your wrist, removing your hand from his mouth.

"Wow, your reasoning is impeccable, Stiles."

Stiles tilts his head at your sarcasm, the edges of his lips curving up a fraction. You get your wrist out of his grip before looking at Lydia—Allison and Scott caught up in conversation. "It's called having taste, Stiles."

Stiles raises his brows. "Taste?" He nearly exclaims. "Did you get hit in the head?"

"Alright...I'm gonna head to science." You say, ignoring stiles, standing, as the others spare you 'goodbyes'.

Stiles calls to your leaving form. "You have zero taste, y/n. Nada!"

You chuckle as you walk out into the hall. Stiles has been your best friend for almost forever. You enjoyed his jokes and even his incessant sarcasm. But you hated the fact that whenever he smiled butterflies would swarm your stomach. Whenever he would look at you a certain way your cheeks would pinken.

You had to brush it all way, knowing he wouldn't feel the same. And ruining such a long friendship would be horrible. Your mind is caught as you nearly collide with someone.

"Shit— sorry." You say looking up, holding a tighter grip on your notes.

One of the alpha twins stares back at you, a small smirk edging his lips. You quickly take in his appearance and the way he holds himself. "And I'd take it your the...straight one?"

He chuckles before beginning to nod. "Aiden." He introduces.

You nod. "Nice to meet you."

He raises his brows awaiting your own introduction. You go to speak, opening your mouth, but pause, seeming to remember exactly who Aiden is. "Will I be in danger if you know my name?" You whisper ask.

Aiden leans down to whisper back. "You might be safe."

"I might?" You ask, raising your brows.

Aiden smirks. "A pretty face usually makes it far."

Your mouth partly opens in slight shock. "Ha. So, you are a flirt." You straighten up. "Lydia's gonna love you."

"Mm, and what about you?" He asks, brushing a strand of hair away from your shoulder.

You chuckle. "Again—Lydia's gonna love you." You then step around him, walking into your class.

Stiles had seen one of the alpha twins follow you out. And of course, with a narrowed gaze—he followed him. He stopped upon seeing the twin speaking to you. Stiles' grip on the doorway was tight as he watched. A scowl formed as he saw the twin brush your hair over your shoulder, you chuckling about something.

What the hell were you talking about?—Stiles wondered, wishing he had scott's hearing. His stomach had tightened the moment he saw you with him. Hating seeing you smile at the enemy. But it wasn't just for the sake that it was the twin you were talking to. Stiles would feel like it no matter what dude it was. He wanted you to smile at him like that. Not someone else.

When you passed the twin for your class Stiles saw the way he eyed your form before leaving for his own class. Stiles scoffed to himself, glaring holes into the back of the alpha's head. No way was that beast getting you.

A few days had passed and through the halls you had caught yourself talking to the twins. It started off brief, just passing nods and a few hello's. But then you started picking up conversations where you'd left off the next time you'd pass eachother.

Stiles saw as you would wave at them or smile, them cracking a joke or a compliment. On the occasion that he would walk with you, Stiles' expression couldn't be more gloomy. You'd bump his shoulder making a comment on the "glare" he'd mastered, but Stiles' couldn't laugh, only hearing Aiden's compliments on your outfit or hair.

At first he didn't want to acknowledge that he was jealous. Because then he'd have to remember his large crush on you. He had had to push it away, knowing you wouldn't feel the same. You were freinds, and Stiles hid behind that concept, forcing himself to reason his glares to him just being a good friend, not wanting you to date someone like Aiden.

But once the days drew out, you and the twins seeming to grow closer, Stiles finally accepted his jealousy. You were his friend not there's. So, when he saw you smile and blush at a compliment Aiden gave you, he couldn't help himself but grab your wrist and pull you somewhere secluded.

You swiftly turned to face Stiles as you stared at him in confusion. You both are in the boys locker room, it being empty—the laccrosse team not practicing today. "What the hell-"

"What the hell is that?" Stiles cuts you off angrily. You stare at him, brows furrowing.

"What?"

"That." Stiles gestured to the now closed door. "Them. The twins."

"Aiden and Ethan?" You ask.

Stiles scoffs at the first name basis. "Yeah, Aiden and Ethan."

"What about them?" You slowly ask, never really having seen Stiles so mad.

Stiles clenches his jaw, all the past days annoyance bubbling up. "What about them? Really, y/n?"

Your still displaying confusion, as Stiles steps closer. "Why the fuck are you talking to them?"

"You're mad at me becasue I've said hi?"

"Oh, you've said more than hi." Stiles scoffs. "You keep talking with them in the halls as if your the closest of friends."

"Look Stiles, I know you don't like them. And I know they aren't particually saints. But if you spoke to them you'd realise how not in control they are. Deucalion—"

"I don't care for their sobstory, y/n. And you shouldn't either. You barely know them." Stiles has progressively gotten closer, before he's backing away, running his hands through his hair in annoyance. "God." He mutters.

"Stiles." You say, making him meet your gaze. "What is this?" Your tone has stayed calm, not wanting to start an arguement with Stiles of all people. "Are you okay?"

"No, y/n. I'm not." He finally says, fully stepping closer. You slightly stumble back at how swift his movement was. "Why do you want to talk to them?"

"Stiles, they...they're nice. They make me feel good, strangely enough."

"They make you feel good?" Stiles asks, eyeing you.

"They make me laugh. They are quite funny." You mutter, seeing how close Stiles is getting.

"Oh." Stiles chuckles, though the humour is lost. "Aren't they just amazing. Making you laugh and smile. You even blush around Aiden."

Your cheeks begin to redden on embarrassment as you cough. "No, I don't."

"Yeah, you do. And it's really annoying." Stiles says. "You know what else is annoying?" You meet his gaze, pressing your lips together. "The fact that you're blushing for him right now."

You scoff. "I'm not."

You can feel Stiles' breath hit your face. "I really hope that's true."

"Stiles, why are you so angry about this?"

And he cracks. "Because I don't want you to like some rabid wolf, I want you to like me!"

Stiles freezes, processing what he just revealed. Fuck. You stare at him, mouth beginning to open.

"What..." You drift off, your heart beating rapidly in your chest.

"I-" Stiles begins, stepping back, shocked and incredibly nervous at his own words. "I didn't-"

"You...like me?" You slowly ask.

Stiles goes to shake his head for fear of your rejection, but then he thinks of Aiden, and switches to a small nod.

Now your shocked, confirmation that his first confession wasn't a slip up. Silence has engulfed the locker room and Stiles can't bear it. "Say something...please."

"I didn't know...you liked me like that." You mutter, your life long crush's words having taken a toll on you.

He couldn't let you date Aiden and now you knew why. But your moments of silence were crushing his heart. He began to step farther away, thinking he just ruined your friendship, when you quickly grabbed his cheeks, and kissed him.

Stiles eyes widened, before they became hooded, the feel of your soft lips making his stomach do somersaults. But then your pulling away far too soon, eyes wide, your own shock at what you just did easily visible.

But Stiles doesn't waste another moment, smashing his lips back to yours. You slightly stumbled back at the force as Stiles began to lick and eat at your lips. He groaned into your mouth when he was able to finally push himself against you, your back hitting a locker.

"Oh, god." Stiles muttered against your lips. "This means you like me back...right?" He asks as he began to kiss your cheek and jaw, leading all the way to your neck, as his hand slipt around your waist.

"No, Stiles." You sarcastically say, making him chuckle against your skin. You grab his face, bringing him back to your face. "Kissing you doesn't mean I like you." You kiss him, your tongues eagerly meeting.

"I'm glad you've picked up my sacrasm." He says, continusously kissing you. "Otherwise that would hurt."

You smile into the kiss, your head buzzing with this reality. You had begun to unbutton his jeans, making his breath hitch, but he quickly grabs your hand, making you meet his gaze in question. "I didn't like hearing that the twins make you feel good." Stiles says, putting your hands over his shoulders, as he lead one of his hands back down.

He unbuttoned your jeans, slipping his hand inside making you grip his shirt. "I want to make you feel good." Stiles kisses you, as he reaches your panties, pushing them aside as he finds your wetness. You jolt when his fingers find your clit. "Much better than them." He whispered as he began to rub your pussy, circling around.

"Christ." You whispered into his neck, before your head hit back against the locker.

Stiles trailed one finger to your hole, pushing inside, making you whimper. "At first I was hurt, because you were my friend not theirs." Stiles said as he pushed another finger inside you making your hips stutter. "But now that doesn't matter, because you can be their freind all you like." Stiles littered kisses along you collerbone and neck. "As long as I can kiss and touch you like this." He grinned against your skin as you moaned, his pace quickening.

"Oh, god— please." You breathe, finding your hand in his hair. You kiss him, letting your lips bruise as he laps at your tongue. Stiles then kisses your cheeks. "You look so cute when you blush."

Your cheeks had heated due to the actions given by Stiles. "I thought you got annoyed when I b-blushed."

Stiles chuckles, curling his fingers inside you. You pant, sweat forming across your forehead. "That's only because you were blushing for Aiden. But now your blushing for me." Stiles smiles. “All for me."

#teen wolf #teen wolf smut #teen wolf stiles stilinski #smut #stiles smut #angry confession #stiles x reader #teen wolf stiles #stiles stilinski #jealous stiles #stiles x y/n #stiles x you #stiles stilinski x y/n #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski smut #stiles stilinski fan fiction

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atzfilm · 4 months

Text

𝐚𝐭𝐳𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦'𝐬 𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐳 𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 .ᐟ

all works of writing/summaries are not owned by me, and all credits go to the respective writers! this list will be updated periodically with stories i have read ♡ i thought that as a writer myself who consumes talented stories on this site, it would be good for me to show you all a fraction of what i read myself tehe (i read majority poly!teez/mc so that category will be filled!!) ☆

— note: 90% of these fics will contain mature themes, since it's all i read! please read the specific author's notes before reading!

❤︎ - personal favorites

ᴍᴜʟᴛɪ

— ❤︎ mists of celeste (??/reader, several pairings) by @hongism

genre: scifi/space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, smut, fluff

summary: sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you.

notes: as an atiny on tumblr.com, i feel like it's a rite of passage to read moc. it's one of the best written works i have had the privilege of reading. it's gripping, it's heartbreaking, it's filled with yearning and love, and has you hoping that the characters survive this ordeal. san i love you most you can tell by the masterlist alone that she has crafted a whole space pirate universe intricately and with the utmost care. she deals with the trauma of the characters so so well and i cant lie ive cried a lot reading it jdhdksjddj, it's the fic that made me start reading ateez ff, i mean, i started reading before even knowing ateez and i had to have a separate tab open to remember who was who. that alone can tell you how much of a work of art this is. omg, im blabbering, but please read this.

— hotel california (ot8/reader) by @mint-yooxgi

genre: yandere, demon!au

summary: checking in to a hotel ran by yandere!Ateez, the boys decide she can no longer leave

my notes: im not too sure how i came across this work, i think it was an endless scroll of me trying to find something to read, but nevertheless, this story. i have not finished it yet (a great and utter pity) but from what ive read so far. im actually very concerned on how much ive read of this in one night 😨, i think the plot is so so unique, i love a strong mc who does not take any shit whatsoever, i love gaslighting demon!ateez 🙂‍↕️. i had to stare at the wall several times while reading,, felt like jim in the office truly. UGH it's just so good??? i can't recommend enough!! PLEASE READ.

— ❤︎ the answer (ot8?/reader, side pairings) by @berryunho

genre: cult au, thriller

summary: life is great until your best friend goes missing your senior year of university, leaving little more than an apology and goodbye. Months later, you’re determined to find out what happened to him and discover a situation much more complicated than you would have ever anticipated - as in - Kim Hongjoong doesn’t like the word ‘cult.’ He prefers 'sect.'

my notes: i first discovered this fic on ao3 and somehow found out lauren had a tumblr blog but i digress – i found this one night and was so excited that i found something so so unique and different and i am pretty sure i didn't sleep until 4am reading everything omg . it's truly so funny and i adore the main character more than anything, the snide remarks truly encompass and make you feel their emotions? cult leader hongjoong is something else... without spoiling hfjdjf. i beg lauren often for a spoiler because it's just that good. please read.

— OUTLAW (ot8/reader, side pairings) by @staytinyville

genre: wild west!au, smut(?), angst

summary: you thought you would be spending the rest of your life tending to the hotel your family ran. while you knew it was common to see bandits come and go in your town, you felt safe in your home. at least safe enough with a weapon at your disposal. however you were no match for eight men who were known to most as outlaws around the plains. hawt kind of adventures did they go on?

my notes: i started reading this a while back and have yet to finish, but so far the premise is so so so interesting and i love readying cowboy aus rjkfjkdrfkj ITS SO GOOD!!!! I CANT WAIT TO CATCH UP

— sway with me (ot8/reader, wooyoung/reader) by @luvt0kki

genre: sci-fi/space/futuristic!au

summary: former noble turned space pirate, wooyoung was now part of one of the most revered and hunted group of pirates of the galaxy. sure he’s only known them for six months but there’s only so much you could do in a ship when you travel from one planet to the next. the ship was their home, his home…and the members of this crew were friends that he felt he was fated to meet.

my notes: tokki already knows all of this but,,, i started this a month or so ago? and i read the first chapter and i legit lost my mind,,, in the calmest way possible... the first chapter is gripping and it sets a environment that i very much would love to live in??? it's just so so well written, and the reader is very much my type NDFAKKJ ANYWAY... it's told from the pov of wooyoung and i love it??? so MUCH?? please read ok bye

— one more rep (woosan x reader) by @cheollipop

genre: smut, f2l, trainers woosan

summary: san got a little too excited watching you exercise in purple – his favourite colour – and wooyoung was nothing if not a tease. turning their attention back to you, they didn't expect to see you equally worked-up.

my notes: ???? i actually read this a few times,,,, this fic yall.... i cannot... the mental image of woosan in the gym makes me delusional enoughdsjkaskfjksd PLEASE.

— like a dream (yungi x reader) by cheollipop

genre: bf!yungi, smut

summary: with only the orange hues of the lamp illuminating the room, they have you for the first time, and it feels just like a dream.

my notes: yunho and mingi are my weakness,, so the both of them together.....

sᴇᴏɴɢʜᴡᴀ

to be added!

ʜᴏɴɢᴊᴏᴏɴɢ

— horizon by @pxedpiper (ft. ateez/f.reader)

genre: pirate!au

summary: once a princess of a kingdom you loathed to call yours, you have somehow found yourself aboard a pirate ship, stuck on the ocean waves. now you try to figure out how to escape them, but as you continue to journey with them, you find yourself wondering if you even want to.

my notes: i just found this the other day but remembering reading it a while ago! it's so so well written and i enjoyed it sm 🥹

ʏᴜɴʜᴏ

to be added!

ʏᴇᴏsᴀɴɢ

to be added!

sᴀɴ

to be added!

ᴍɪɴɢɪ

— safe haven (mingi/reader) by @atxxzist

genre: bodyguard!au, fluff

summary: your father has had enough of your shit, and hires Song Mingi; his best friend's son, to be your personal bodyguard

my notes: is it possible to fall down the mingi hole deeper than i already have? maybe! this fic pretty much lives in my head,,, endlessly,,,, i love mingi. i love this au so much and i especially love bodyguard aus, i think it's one of my favorite genres and this deepens it.... PLEASE READ.

ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ

— rough rider (wooyoung x afab!reader) by @choism

genre: smut

summary: In which you meet a hot twink at a club who has a slightly unhealthy obsession with the 2000's and y2k bimbocore.

my notes: i......... there's no way i can describe this fic... if u yearn for wooyoung the way i do. read this.

— what happened to slow down? (bf!wooyoung x reader) by @ja3hwa

genre: smut

summary: coming back from a house party, you and woo couldn't seem to keep your hands off one another. everything was happening so fast. you two didn't even make it to the bedroom.

my notes: insert a photo of someone throwing a phone and screaming crying, then picking it up to read the rest. thats me kjrfakfajkf

ᴊᴏɴɢʜᴏ

to be added!

#ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez angst #ateez fluff #hongjoong x reader #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #yunho x reader #wooyoung x reader #mingi x reader #san x reader #yeosang x reader

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anna-hawk · 9 months

Text

The Eggnog Effect

Nicomund the Red | Santa Claus x F!Reader

Summary: You passed out on your friend's couch and wake up to find Santa Claus leaving a gift for your godchild.

WC: 6.2k // Explicit 🔞

Warnings: Christmas smut, bad jokes and cheesy wordplays

For @roguesandsaviors who's love for David Harbour triggered me into trying my hand at writing smut for someone else than Jon 😁

Also on AO3

You frowned as you slowly woke up, wondering about the small tinkling sound that got you out of your slumber in the first place. Cracking one eye open, you tried to make out your immediate surroundings, but your face was smushed into a pillow. A throw pillow, to be more precise.

Ever since the birth of your godchild, your best friend and husband had started asking you to spend Christmas Eve with them. How could you say no to witnessing the kid’s eyes growing big with wonder after discovering the presents lying underneath the Christmas tree?

Usually, though, you spent the night in the guest bedroom and not on the living room couch. You berated yourself for the sore neck you were likely getting from the sleeping position and grumbling internally about the long hours spent at work today that resulted in your exhaustion when you heard that noise again.

Blinking and opening both eyes now, you glimpsed some movement to the side of the couch, where you knew the Christmas tree to be. As you twisted to your back, your eyes caught onto something red and large and…

“Oh God, I really need to leave off the eggnog next time… I’m actually seeing Santa now,” you groaned and quickly rubbed over your tired eyes.

Except that there was that tinkling again, more agitated, which made you open your eyes once more only to be met by the sight of a large man standing stock still just a few feet away from you. His wide eyes stared at you with a mix of panic and annoyance.

“Oh shit,” you breathed as realization sank in, and you understood that your brain wasn’t playing tricks on you but that there was a stranger in the house and… You opened your mouth to scream, but the man was on you in a fraction of a second. A large palm covered the entire lower half of your face and stopped you from uttering any sound, while the other hand held the man up on the armrest under your head.

“Shhh,” he hissed, his eyes lifting to the entrance of the living room to check if anyone was coming, before they bore into yours.

Oddly enough, and maybe it was still the eggnog talking, you didn’t try to fight, despite the way his large frame loomed over you. You didn’t move at all, actually, as you met his gaze. The only thought going through your mind was, oh, he’s got blue eyes. You stayed in the same position for several more seconds, his eyes never leaving yours as he assessed the situation. Realizing that you weren’t going to out him, the man slowly removed his hand from you and stood. You stayed where you were, observing him curiously; the white blond curly beard and hair under an askew red and white cap, the deep red leather coat lined with white fur spanning over a wide chest and shoulders, a pair of shiny, black boots. Everything about him screamed Santa Claus, but he was also nothing like the various men playing Santa in malls and other places. Those other Santas had also never elicited such a strong response from your body, either.

“Who are you?” you breathed, mindful to keep your voice down, when really, the question should have been what are you doing here? Or, what do you want?

“Who do you think I am?” he grumbled, while you watched him glare at a small bag and rummage around in it with a frustrated expression.

Your eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets when the man thrust his whole arm into the bag, and it just vanished inside, which should have been impossible given how tiny the bag was compared to his arm.

“Where the fuck is it?”

“I didn’t know that Santa swears,” you snorted at the absolutely crazy sight in front of you.

“He does when the presents aren’t where they’re fucking meant to be,” he muttered, before his face turned into a satisfied grin. “Aha.” His arm slowly came back out, followed by a large, neatly wrapped present.

You blinked in rapid succession as you took in the size of the present and the size of the bag again. Yup, something was definitely up. A bicycle, for a five-year-old or not, would never fit in that bag if something… You snorted to yourself as the word magical ran through your mind. Don’t be ridiculous, you thought to yourself. But then the man pulled out an actual scroll of parchment, which started to glow as he pulled it apart. Sitting up, you stared at the man as he scanned the contents of the scroll with a thoughtful look.

“What’s that? Your naughty and nice list?” you sniggered, while pulling your legs under you on the couch and letting your eyes drift over him appreciatively.

“Mmhm,” he replied absently, seemingly looking for something in particular.

Your eyebrows rose in surprise at his easy admittance, before you began laughing under your breath.

“Tell me, Santa. Am I on your naughty list?” You leaned your head against your palm and rested your elbow on the armrest, smirking as you drawled the word naughty.

“Nope,” he answered instantly, while your flirty expression went completely unseen since he still didn’t look at you.

You frowned curiously at his reply and tilted your head to one side before slowly getting up and approaching him. This, at least, seemed to catch his attention because his eyes snapped to you as soon as you moved. He watched you with a slight frown. Curious.

“You sure?” you grinned.

This was all absolutely crazy. There was a fucking stranger in your friends’ house, pretending to be Santa and looking damn fine in that role, yet here you were, flirting outrageously with him anyway, when flirting usually felt awkward to you. The eggnog definitely was at play here.

He chuckled and said your name. Your full name, which had you stopping dead in your tracks as you stared at him with wide eyes.

“You’ve never been on the naughty list once,” he finished with a shrug.

“How… Who…”

How could he know your name? If he were a burglar, he’d probably only know your friends’ names since they were on the mailbox. He could have looked them up and seen your name popup in your best friend’s feeds on social media, but to what end? He’d just left a goddamn bike for your godchild instead of taking something. And that bag? That wasn’t a trick.

The man sighed deeply. “Adults,” he muttered, before thinking for a second. “Do you remember what you wished for on Christmas when you were eight?”

Taken aback by the question, you frowned and thought for a second before memories hit you, and you nodded as you opened your mouth to reply. Except that he said the same thing as you did at the exact same time as you. You took in a sharp breath of surprise. How could he know that? It was far too specific to be a random guess. Only if…

“So what are you going to do when you leave? Pull a Men In Black and wipe my memory or something?” You crossed your arms with a chuckle as your brain accepted the crazy truth.

He snorted and shrugged. “Trust me, the very few people who have actually seen me have never talked about me. And if they did,” he trailed off with another meaningful shrug that clearly said, who’s gonna believe them?

You nodded faintly at his logic. He wasn’t wrong.

“I’m curious, though… What’s your actual name? Santa? Kris? Nick?” You headed to where your godchild had left the cookies and milk and picked up the plate with the cookies. You chose one for yourself and offered one to… Santa.

He took a cookie but didn’t look away from you, his head shaking in amusement a second later.

“Really? Of all the things you could ask, that’s what you wanna know?”

You shrugged and bit off a piece of cookie, the man doing the same before he glanced down at it with an appreciative sound and nod, then looked into your expectant face again.

“You can call me whatever you want. The list is pretty long.”

“But none of them are correct,” you surmised, watching him reach for the milk glass and taking a large gulp. “How about… Daddy Christmas?”

You had to hold back your loud laugh as he sprayed his mouthful all over his front at your words. He tried to cough as silently as he could and shot you a death glare as you stood there with a satisfied grin on your face.

“Am I on the naughty list yet?”

His nostrils flared as he wiped crumbs and milk off his beard and coat before he stalked over towards you until he was in your face.

“You should be more careful with what you wish for, girl,” he growled, yet instead of feeling threatened, you felt more than turned on.

“Oh? What are you gonna do? Give me your big lump of coal?” you breathed, loving how big and tall he was.

Santa blinked at you once, twice, then burst into laughter, which had you smiling broadly.

“Gotta admit, this was a new one.” He opened his mouth to say something else, but something chimed close by, which had him checking his watch. “Fuck!”

Picking up two other cookies, he headed towards the fireplace and lifted a finger to his nose, sparks firing as he did so, but then he looked back at you.

“Nicomund,” he said softly, which had your eyes widen at the revelation of his name.

He smiled and pressed his gloved finger against his nose.

“Merry Christmas.”

He was gone in a swish of golden sparks a second later.

One year later

Dressed in a festive pair of pajamas, you yawed widely as you looked at the clock sitting in the midst of Christmas decorations on the mantelpiece. You stretched your arms over your head and shook your head to try fending the sleepiness off.

You were back at your friends’ house and sitting on the same couch as last year. Last year, when you’d met the actual Santa Claus. You’d spent weeks doing research on the origins of Christmas, yet none of the results had been conclusive in any form. You’d guessed that people truly didn’t usually see him like he’d told you. After a while, you almost wanted to believe that the whole thing had only been a dream, coming from too much eggnog and sleep-deprivation. Except that he’d given you his name. Nicomund. You couldn’t have dreamed that up. The name had actually given you some vague results as you’d given it in. Nicomund the Red, a former viking warrior. Who was supposed to have lived over a thousand years ago. Considering what you’d witnessed, you didn’t even think it that farfetched that they could be one and the same person. The way he’d talked had clearly hinted at the fact that he’d been doing this for a very long time. He knew who you were. Even as a child. Yet, he didn’t look older than his late forties or early fifties.

As much as you enjoyed loosing yourself in fantasies in books and so on, you considered yourself as a pragmatic person in real life. You liked facts and magic, while a fun concept, had never seemed like something real. And yet… After what you’d seen…

That’s why you wanted to stay awake on Christmas Eve. Prove that you hadn’t actually dreamed everything up. And you might have also wanted to see him again, just because. It was ridiculous. You hadn’t been able to go on a date the whole past year, Nicomund popping up in your head at random times. The way you’d felt attracted to him had left you reeling. He’d been in full Santa gear, yet all you’d been able to see were his blue eyes, his large frame and drawling deep voice, the combination lighting your entire body up.

Your eyes drifted to the clock again, watching the time slowly approach one in the morning. Resting your head against the couch, you closed your eyes and sighed. A very comfortable bed was waiting for you just down the hall, and your body wanted nothing more than to sink into it and sleep after the long day you’d had again. But what if you missed him? Your fingers curled around a folded up piece of paper resting on your lap. Just in case, you’d written him a note, requesting him to wake you up if you were to fall asleep. With your eyes still closed, you smirked to yourself at the few lines you’d written. Maybe you could tell him yourself later. You would open your eyes in a second. You were just resting them a bit.

Weren’t you supposed to be asleep for Santa to show up?

The next thing you heard was a loud and excited scream coming from close by, having you jerk awake in your bed… Bed? Sitting up quickly, you realized that you were lying in the guest bedroom. When had you moved there? The last thing you remembered was that you’d been sitting on the couch and fiddling with the note. The thought of the note had you looking all around yourself and the floor, yet there was nothing there. Quickly getting up and slipping into a pair of warm slippers, you almost ran to the living room to look for the note. The only thing you found was your godchild gushing about the presents sitting under the tree, your friends standing around him with broad smiles.

“Merry Christmas,” they called at nearly the same time as they saw you walk in.

Tearing your eyes away from the couch and the floor, you schooled your features into a bright smile and replied in kind, hugging the couple and then kneeling to do the same to their kid. You helped rip into the wrappings and forced yourself to focus on what was going on around you.

As the day went on, you never found the note, but you were still absolutely certain that Nicomund had been the one to get you into bed. You might have been exhausted, but you would have remembered it if you’d gotten up to go to bed on your own. Disappointment shot through you at the realization that you wouldn’t get the chance to see him again until the next year. If at all.

Later that same day, you had dinner with your family, which served to take your mind off things for several hours. It wasn’t until later that night and once you’d returned to your place well after midnight and gotten ready for bed, that you sighed dejectedly again. In your pajamas and leaning against the counter of the open kitchen that looked into the living room, you slowly sipped water from a glass when your fireplace made a sputtering noise. Frowning, you put the glass down behind you and walked into the living room, only to yelp in surprise when golden sparks appeared and formed into the shape of a man a few feet away from you.

“Holy shit,” you whispered, eyes wide and heart racing.

Nicomund met your gaze and smirked at your gobsmacked expression.

“Merry Christmas,” he rumbled.

Your mouth moved silently as your eyes slowly took in his appearance. Gone were the red coat and hat, instead he was wearing a loose, off-white colored shirt and had his hair pulled up in a messy bun, showing off more of his handsome face. The V in the shirt’s neckline revealed the beginning of circular tattoos with what appeared to be runes. All the air rushed out of your lungs at the whole sight. He definitely wasn’t Santa right now, meaning that it really wasn’t the outfit that did it for you, since you were getting even more turned on than the previous year.

“What are you doing here?” you croaked, your mind having a hard time realizing that he was standing in your living room. “Christmas is over.”

“It is, yeah… I thought you wanted to see me.” He put his bare hands into the pockets of his red pants and tilted his head at you.

Your eyebrows lifted at that. “Why didn’t you wake me up then?” you muttered, pursing your lips slightly.

“Not enough time,” he answered easily, eyeing you slowly.

“For what?” you breathed, swallowing at the way he was staring at you. The way he'd said it hinted at more than just him running behind schedule.

“I got your note,” he said instead, and pulled the neatly folded paper out of one of his pockets, scanning it lazily after unfolding it. “You got real creative.” He lifted his gaze to yours briefly, the eye contact and implications of his words having heat rushing to your face.

Biting over your bottom lip and taking strength in the knowledge that he came to find you once he’d been done with delivering presents, you grinned at him cheekily.

“You said that I was never on your naughty list, so I figured that I could get a reward for having been such a good girl over the years.”

You took a step closer to him, seeing him watching you attentively, expression unreadable.

“And that’s what you had in mind?” His eyes went back to your note. “Dear Santa, I’ve been particularly good this year. Please let me play with your Christmas ornaments and suck on your candy cane. And while Santa Claus is coming to town, I’ll be sure to show how good I can go to town on Santa Claus. And please don’t forget to stuff my Christmas stockings with your big present. Hoe, hoe, hoe, Merry Christmas.”

Hearing him read the note out loud in that husky drawl had all the heat from your face rushing down your body. You couldn’t even feel the slightest bit of embarrassment at your silly wordplay, especially when you could see the corner of his mouth pulling up as he read, while his voice deepened by the end. His eyes lifted to yours once he was done, before he let them travel over your body. Slowly, taking all of you in, his blue eyes dark in the half light cast by the living room lamp. Your lips parted as soft pants left your mouth, your heart rate picking up at his intense perusal.

“May I have my Christmas present now?” you breathed after taking a step closer and leaving you only a few inches away from him.

He huffed out an amused laugh, but you didn’t miss the way he lightly leaned towards you, his large chest moving up and down faster.

“Show me how good you can be,” he rumbled, as he let go of the note, which fluttered to the floor.

As you reached for his face with one of your hands, you caught his surprised expression when your fingers gently ran along his bearded jaw and towards the back of his head to pull him towards your mouth. Considering the low sound he made as your lips met, he had nothing against kissing, he seemed more surprised by your gentle touch, that you wanted more than just something frenzied and fast. But you did want. Corny and over the top sexual Christmas wordplay aside, you really wanted the man. All of him.

Slipping your tongue along his while slightly pulling at his hair, Nicomund growled and pushed into you, his hands moving into action as they travelled around your waist and down to your ass. His beard tickled deliciously around your mouth as he kissed you back fiercely. The first physical proof of his arousal pressed against you, making your breath catch at the size you could feel. Taking a step back away from him, you quickly found his eyes as you sunk to your knees before him. Nicomund’s breath came in short pants as his dark eyes watched you lifting your hands to the fastenings of his red pants. You took your time pulling the golden buttons from their respective holes, while you could see his erection straining the fabric just below. After you were done, you tugged the pants and underwear down enough to reveal his length. Unable to keep your eyes away, you finally looked at his gorgeous cock, proudly standing away from his body, the head red and shiny with pre-come.

“As red as Rudolf’s nose,” you muttered lightly, almost to yourself, except that Nicomund heard every word.

“Fuck, you’re terrible. Don’t make me change my mind,” he grumbled, sounding between amused and exasperated.

Slipping out of the top half of your pajamas to reveal your breasts, you glanced up at him with a smirk.

“You really wanna stop, Daddy Christmas?” you teased, right before leaning forward to lick up a long stripe from the base to the top of his cock.

His body went rigid at the touch, while he groaned. Suddenly, one of his hands was in your hair, the fingers sliding against your scalp and moving your head up, so you had no choice but to look at him. A long moan slipped free from you at the treatment, which had Nicomund grinning in satisfaction.

“You’re not really being a good girl right now, y’know. Bein’ a lil tease and all. Thought you wanted to show me how good you can be.” His voice was low and washed over you in a delicious wave, stoking your lust further.

Nodding instead of replying verbally, you let your mouth fall open and your tongue peek out in invitation. Nicomund hummed, pleased, and guided you towards his cock.

“There we go,” he rasped, as he slowly slid over your tongue, stretching your lips with his girth.

Once he was as far as you could manage without gagging, he stopped moving. His hand remained in your hair, but he neither pushed nor pulled, waiting for you to decide what to do next. You kept him like this for as long as was comfortable before you slowly drew back and gently suckled over the head, while you wrapped your fingers around him. Nicomund groaned as you angled his cock up for you to tongue and suck under the head, teasing the sensitive nerves. You took your time sucking all over him, savoring the sounds you could get out of him, your body heating whenever he cursed under his breath when you did something he particularly enjoyed.

Listening to his breaths picking up speed and feeling his hips jerking as he got closer to release, you were surprised when he gently removed you off him with the same hand as before. Lifting your head since you had expected – wanted – him to come in your mouth, you gazed at him in confusion. He reached for one of your arms and pulled you to your feet before he was kissing you hungrily. Which you didn’t mind in the slightest, as you folded your arms around his chest to answer in kind, your nipples hardening as they rubbed against the material of his shirt.

“Wanna be inside you,” he admitted roughly, talking against your mouth.

You keened in the back of your throat and nodded fervently. How could you not want that?

“Yes,” you hissed, kissing him deeply.

“Bed?” he rasped, and it took your brain a second to get your body to move.

“Yeah, okay.” You took his hand and pulled him out of the living room and towards your bedroom.

Inside the room, Nicomund drew you back to him for a quick kiss before he bent over to pull down your pajama pants and get them off you. You clutched at his shoulders as he divested you of the clothes.

“Sit on the edge of the bed,” he ordered, having your move instantly.

You observed him through hooded eyes and pressed your legs together at the tingle of anticipation running through your core as you watched him undress. You would have loved to do it for him, but this gave you the opportunity to let your eyes feast on him as he revealed his tattooed body, the shirt falling to the floor. He was large and strong, but with a softness around his belly that had your fingers prickling with the desire to touch. His hair was a mess of curls, in and out of the hairband holding it back. You expected him to remove the rest of his clothes and stared into his face questioningly when he didn’t, only to realize that he was already watching you. Stepping towards you and making you spread your legs for him to stand between them, Nicomund towered over you as he gazed down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Thought you might want me to keep them on. So you don’t forget who exactly is fucking you.”

Your whole body heated with lust and embarrassment alike. You wanted to open your mouth to explain that you didn’t have a Santa kink, that you’d never thought of Santa in that way, but after the jokes you’d made, you couldn’t fault him for teasing you about it. Only, you didn’t care who he was. You’d have wanted him the same way had he been the Sandman, or just a normal man as well. And to be honest, having him almost fully clothed while you were naked was also turning you on.

“Is it time for your big present, then?” You bit over your bottom lip as you stared up at him with a hopeful expression.

Chuckling, Nicomund leaned down to your eye level.

“Not yet,” he hedged, and knelt between your legs. “First I gotta get a taste of your…” He thought for a second. “Cookie.”

Your eyes widened at the unexpected wordplay and what it meant. He didn’t give you the time to further react as he grabbed your hips to pull them halfway over the edge of the bed and sink between your legs. You barely had the time to catch yourself with your hands behind you on the bed at the first swipe of his tongue over your wet folds. Crying out at the hotness of his tongue combined with the soft scratching of his beard on your sensitive skin, you fought to keep your eyes open to watch him. Heat ran through you at the way he so clearly took pleasure in eating you out. He took his time doing it too, at first only giving you broad licks that didn’t hold that much strength and mostly served to wind you slowly up as his tongue became more precise. Your eyes fluttered, and you panted once he began using the tip of his tongue to run maddening circles around your exposed clit. As you were getting louder and louder the stronger the pressure of his tongue became, Nicomund suddenly stopped and, instead, focused his attention on your inner thighs, kissing and teasing his beard across your skin. Your legs quivered from the change of pace, and you wanted nothing more than to bring his head back to where it had been. He seemed content to keep torturing you, however, and you knew in that moment that you would be dealing with beard burn the next day.

“Nicomund… please?” you breathed on a whimper, gazing down at him and catching his eye as he looked up at you without stopping his ministrations.

Your expression seemed to trigger something in him because his mouth and tongue were back on your clit in the next second. You had to throw your head back at the explosive pleasure shooting through you as his lips surrounded that little bundle of nerves, and he sucked on it enthusiastically. You screamed in bliss and tangled your fingers in his hair, silently begging him to stay right there. From the way he growled, he had no intention of going anywhere anyway. He pressed his thumbs into your thighs, pushing your legs further open and pulling your folds apart as his mouth ripped more and more delirious sounds from you. As two of his fingers slowly sank into you and curled up to start fucking you, your whole body wrapped over his head, your orgasm hitting you with such intensity that your legs locked against Nicomund’s shoulders.

While you were slowly coming back to yourself, Nicomund kissed his way up your mound, hip and belly, his soft touches making your body shake with more than just the aftershocks, your entire body feeling sensitized. When he reached your stomach, you cupped his head with your hands and leaned down to kiss him deeply. His beard was damp, while his lips still tasted like you, having a new shiver of desire going through you. Nicomund grunted into your mouth as he knelt up, curling one arm around your waist while the other held him up behind your back. Without ever breaking the kiss, he got to his feet and leaned over you until you were almost lying on the bed. You moved up the bed with his help, just enough for him to get his knees on the mattress and pull your legs over his thighs properly. Meanwhile, your hands took their time exploring his body, running all over his back and sides, reveling in his size and comforting weight on top of you. Your fingers encountered a few scares as they went, bringing the reminder of your research back to mind. Only fights and battles could explain the size and placements of some of them. And then there were the tattoos. Santa Claus was an ancient Viking warrior. The concept was absolutely wild, but you put the wayward thought to the side in favor of focusing on the whole man on top of you.

Nicomund lifted his head a few inches and held himself over you to look into your face. He was breathing hard, sweat starting to form at his temples, his eyes traveling between your lips and eyes. You looked at him dazedly and smiled before lifting your head, keeping your eyes open, to press your mouth against his. You repeated the action a few more times, seeing his chest rise and fall faster each time.

“Are you going to make me beg again?” you whispered, your lips grazing his.

He chuckled and stroked a thick thumb over your jaw.

“Please, Santa, pour your milk all over my-”

His mouth crashed into yours, effectively shutting you up, but unable to stop you from giggling.

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” he growled, shifting on top of you.

“But cookies always need – oh fuck!”

This time, his method was more convincing, as he used your momentarily distraction while you teased him to line up with your entrance and push inside you in one long and powerful slide.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and threw your head back as he had you crying out with each snap of his hips, his length making you feel as full as you’d wished for. Nicomund mouthed around your jawline, grunting into your skin as he thrust into you repeatedly. Leaning your head forward again, you drew his mouth in for an open-mouthed kiss, sucking and biting his bottom lip, trying to give back as much as you could in your position. It seemed to be enough for him, since he slammed into you harder, groaning as you moaned even louder while your inner walls pulsed around him.

“Feel so good,” you moaned, your voice breathy and high-pitched, your legs curling over his thighs as extreme pleasure unfurled inside you again.

“Fuck,” he gritted out roughly, staring down at you with burning eyes. “You gonna come for me again?”

You nodded. “Please? Nicomund… Please!”

You couldn’t get enough of the feeling of this man on top of you, making you feel needy like never before. With his large frame, glistening with sweat and strong arms holding him up at your sides as his hips drove you higher and higher, piercing blue eyes roving over your face.

“Yeah, come on, go ahead. Been such a good girl for me. Such a good-”

His words cut off as you exploded around him at the praise, a long wail of ecstasy coming through your mouth, before you pulled his mouth back onto yours for a desperate kiss. After several more thrusts, Nicomund groaned as one of his hands shifted to your hair and formed a fist in it. He tugged at it to expose your jaw to breathe against it as he fucked in and out of you at a fast pace. Still overwhelmed by your second orgasm, you let him move you the way he needed and only linked your arms tightly around his shoulders, small, pleasured whimpers leaving you. When he came, his whole body shuddered over yours, his hips jerking repeatedly as he emptied himself inside you with a long groan.

Neither of you moved as you simply rested for a few minutes, savoring the afterglow while you gently combed your fingers through his hair.

“Mmh… this was definitely worth waiting a whole year for,” you mumbled sleepily, the long day catching up to you at last.

Nicomund chuckled warmly and raised his head from where it had been resting against your shoulder. You grinned up at him and stroked your fingers along his beard before letting them trail down his shoulders, your eyes following their path, as he moved further up.

“Nicomund the Red,” you muttered quietly, swirling an index over a circular tattoo on his chest. They were all gorgeous and reached down to both of his arms.

You felt him go still under your hands and met his stunned gaze. You smiled softly, keeping up your exploration.

“I like research,” you explained with a small shrug. “Didn’t find much, really, but I couldn’t…” You looked away from his face.

“Couldn’t what?” he asked in a quiet rumble.

“You read the note, Nicomund… I didn’t start thinking about writing it only yesterday,” you hedged.

This was as much as you wanted to reveal about how often you’d thought about him this past year. Sure, you’d been attracted to him from the get go and had fun with all the wordplay, but you’d also been genuinely intrigued by him.

Nicomund didn’t say anything for a beat, but then shifted your bodies until he was slipping out of you and rolling you to your side to face him.

He cleared his throat. “Well… I was kinda wondering if you’d be at your friends’ again.”

You uttered a small, happy laugh at his admittance and closed your eyes. The feeling only lasted a moment as you realized that he wouldn’t be staying, however. Nicomund was still Santa Claus, for crying out loud. Your smile turned sad as you fully realized that this couldn’t go anywhere. Opening your eyes and staring at his chest, you kept tracing the tattoos quietly, thinking.

“Will you come back next year?” you finally brought yourself to ask, your eyes still downcast.

A warm palm stroked over your jaw and tilted your head up to meet warm blue eyes.

“Only if you stay off the naughty list,” he said, going for humor to lift the suddenly heavier mood, but his smile was slightly off.

You couldn’t help but snort anyway and gave him a small smile, the implications of his comment clear. You’d always been on the nice list, so surely…

“No promises,” you whispered, having him huffing out a small laugh this time, while his fingers ran along the back of your neck in a wonderfully soothing way.

Your eyes slowly fell close, your fingers stopping their path on his skin as his touch lulled you to sleep. You were completely unable to fight it and soon, the last thing you felt were soft lips on your forehead.

With no surprise, you were alone the next morning.

One week later.

Two hours past the new year, after your friends had left, and you’d put the night’s dinner leftovers in the fridge, you sank onto the couch with a glass of eggnog. You stared at the liquid with bleary eyes, smiling to yourself as you thought of Nicomund. It was a bittersweet thought, but you tried to keep any sadness away whenever you thought of him. Still slightly tipsy, you berated yourself for missing the opportunity to make a bad joke with eggnog. Maybe you should write it in next Christmas’ note. You could already see him rolling his eyes at you and grinned.

Taking a sip and leaning your head back over the couch, you let your mind drift to the moment when you’d been lying face to face, his hands in your hair.

A whoosh of air suddenly went through the living room, having you gasp and sit upright again. Your mouth fell open at the now familiar golden sparks coming through the fireplace. A few seconds later, you were looking into Nicomund’s face.

“Happy new year?” he rumbled tentatively.

Standing and looking at your glass, you put it down on the coffee table and tilted your head at him.

“I should really, really leave off the eggnog,” you said as you approached him. “I’m starting to see Santa at New Year.”

“Maybe you’ll see me at Easter too,” he smirked, leaning towards you as you cupped his face to kiss him.

#Nicomund x reader #violent night #santa x reader #reader insert #violent night fanfiction #david harbour #christmas smut #yes I'm aware it's August 🤣

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almostgenerallyalways · 1 year

Text

mamas (don’t let your babies grow up to be cowboys)

Pairing: Jake Seresin x fem!reader Category: angst / fluff / run-on sentences Word count: 3,1k CW: language, I’ve been to Texas once okay forgive me, divorce Author’s note: this was supposed to be a holiday fic but I got stuck on it and almost abandoned it, but here it is rescued from my drafts, shoutout to all the amazing tgm fic writers your writing truly astounds me

Summary: Every year around the holidays, you hear from your ex. This year when you don’t respond, he decides to show up at your door.

2022

Jake UT [November 23, 2022 at 10:24 PM]

Hey stranger

Visiting my mom for Thanksgiving

How’ve you been?

You ignore the message. How you’ve been in the last twelve months is not something you feel up to discussing with him.

You spend the next weeks dealing with crisis after crisis at work, leaning into the chaos like you have been all year. Your personal life? Garbage fire. Reconfiguring your entire pump setup two weeks before going to production, because the DoC slapped an import ban on one of your key suppliers in China? You’re on top of it.

But then, the week before Christmas, another message comes in:

Jake UT [December 17th, 2022 at 3:47 PM]

Hey

In town for the holidays

Would love to see you if you’re free

Brett welcome too, of course

A pang in your chest, but curiosity gets the better of you, so you text back:

Thanksgiving and Christmas? Judy must be thrilled.

You’ve met Jake’s mom all of one time, ten years ago, but she made a lasting impression. Fiercely protective of her only son, she’d been wary of you at first (you were, in order of importance: Too non-Texan, too vegetarian, and too focused on trying to rescue an almost-due group project for your sustainable water management class in which no one was pulling their weight).

And yet, over the Thanksgiving weekend you’d spent at Jake’s mother’s house in Colton, she’d slowly warmed up to you. You’d asked her endless questions about her job as a project manager at Austin-Bergstrom, and she’d poured you half glasses of wine (still exotic, to you, back then) at the kitchen island, shooing Jake back into the living room.

She’d even called you, after you guys broke up, to say she was sorry to hear it, and to tell you to call her up any time you needed someone to talk to. You’d tried your best to keep your voice even, not to break down in tears for the seventh time that day, and never called her again.

* * *

“Dude. Put your phone away for two minutes.”

Jake looks up apologetically at his friend, and pockets the device. “Sorry. Just expecting a text.”

Sandeep holds out his bottle of Lone Star, and Jake clinks it with his own. “It’s good to see you, man. Sorry I wasn’t around at Thanksgiving, we were visiting Jed’s family in NC. I didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

Jake takes a swig of his beer, the cold liquid feeling like a balm to his throat. “Yeah, well. It’s been a big year, work-wise, so they owed me one. I wanted to spend some extra time with my mom.”

Bringing up his drink to toast again, Sandeep says: “Here’s to you, bud. And to getting that permanent assignment in California. At least we knew where to send our holiday card this year.”

Condensation drips down the neck of his bottle, and Jake spins it slowly in his hand, stopping himself from peeling off the label. He feels on edge, unmoored, despite this 6th Street dive bar being as familiar to him as the back of his own hand.

Sandeep’s got his number. “Seeing anyone else while you’re in town? I don’t know, Myers?”

Jake doesn’t look up, but feels his cheeks heat up fractionally.

His friend takes another swig of his beer. “I guess I should stop calling her Myers. You know, with the divorce and all.”

The bottle escapes Jake’s grip, and amber liquid sloshes across the table, into Sandeep’s lap. “Shit, Seresin! Grab some napkins, will you?”

* * *

2012

You’d always known there was an expiration date on this thing with Jake, which is why you’d been reluctant to meet his mom to begin with.

You wanted fundamentally different things. He, the Navy: Adventure, excitement, a chance to serve his country. You: Stability. A family. A place where you belonged.

Both of you: an opportunity to prove yourself.

It’s civil, as far as breakups go.

“You always knew I wanted to fly.” He says, over breakfast at Magnolia Café. There’s a hard set to his jaw that makes you soften in contrast, because of course you do, everyone who’s ever been near Jake Seresin for longer than ten minutes knows he’s always wanted to fly.

From your first date he told you about how Judy used to park him in her office at the airport when her summer childcare fell through; little Jake happily spending the day watching commercial jets taxiing and taking off in quick succession.

How her coworkers, the civilian engineers who’d stayed on after Bergstrom Air Force Base was decommissioned and commercialized, would regale him with stories about generations of F-4 Phantoms. Or the British Airways Concorde, one of only twenty of the ill-fated aircraft ever made, bringing the Queen to Austin in a little yellow hat. The Reconnaissance Air Meet bringing in the best fighter pilots from across all divisions of the military and abroad, to compete and show off their skills.

Jake would listen to them with stars in his eyes.

You pick at your migas, your appetite gone. “I know, Jake. I would never stop you.”

But you look at him, and you know your face mirrors his determination. “But I can’t come with you, Jake. I can’t start my career following you around from camp to base year to year. I’m forty-thousand dollars in debt getting this degree, and I need to follow my own plan.”

You haven’t moved in together, though Jake spends most of his nights at your tiny off-campus apartment, where you’ve made him countless cups of black coffee trying to fuel weekend study sessions. Where he would come in past midnight, back from the late shift at his part-time job at the H-E-B, and bury his face in your neck, waking you up even though you’d been asleep for hours. Where you would hold his sleeping head to your chest, his deep breathing somehow felt inside of you, and run your fingers up and down the bare skin of his back, trying to memorize him.

You’re twenty-two, you tell yourself. This is not the end of the world.

So you see him off at the front door, a box of his things clutched to his chest, and you force yourself to be strong. “You better be,” and you try to smile up at him, but you’re not sure you’re doing a convincing job, “You better be the best goddamn pilot the Navy has ever seen, Jake.”

For a second, he looks like he wants to say something, but then he just puts down the box, and pulls you into a last embrace. You sink into it, the fundamentally safe feeling of his arms around you, then make yourself pull away after a minute, pretending you don’t see the wet stains on his shirt.

Later you look at all the spaces in your apartment he is now conspicuously absent from (no dog-eared volume of Game of Thrones on the nightstand, no boots by the door), and it hits you then; the crevasse he’s left in your life. It may run deeper than you thought.

* * *

Jake had gone to Officer Candidate School in Rhode Island, then designator-specific training in Pensacola, Florida, and done his best not to think about you.

It helped that his days were intense and exhausting. It helped that, on liberty weekends, girls would flock to him and his friends in bars.

It helped to be several states away from you.

It helped to be living his dream.

* * *

There is a bit of a backslide, that first Thanksgiving after, where you both think it can’t hurt to see each other for one drink, for old time’s sake, which ends in him taking you up against the door in your new apartment, your legs wrapped around his waist because he does not have the willpower or presence of mind to figure out the way to your bedroom.

He knows it was a mistake, at about five AM the next day, when the blue light of morning starts streaming through a gap in the curtains, illuminating your tousled hair fanned out over the pillow, the steady rise and fall of your chest so familiar to him he could cry.

Untangling himself from you hurts, and he does perhaps the most cowardly thing he ever will: he sneaks out before you wake up. But next week he’s shipping out, and the thought of the same dead-end conversation over coffee made just the way he likes it is unbearable, so he makes himself walk away.

Somehow it’s worse, the second time around.

* * *

You’d met someone else, like he’d known you would. He sees the engagement announcement on Facebook, browsing on his phone between drills, and likes the post. It’s the third year he’s been away, and he’s at TOPGUN by then, so he has a lot on his mind. He has a girlfriend, even, a local: cute as a button, beats him savagely at pool.

It doesn’t fully hit him until the first time he sees you with your then-fiancé, at a little holiday reunion of college friends. He sees you with that ring on your finger, another man’s arm around your shoulders, and he gets an acute sense of the alternate reality that could’ve been his.

It feels a little like losing altitude too fast.

Your initial reception of him is understandably frosty, but you seem too genuinely happy to hold a grudge. By the third round, when he sidles up to you at the bar, you give him a quick hug, looking up at him with a smile that squeezes his heart: “I’m so proud of you, Jake.”

He nods, not quite trusting himself to speak, and pulls you back in, just for a moment, tucking your head under his chin. You smell like apple and magnolia, like nights spent with his nose pressed into your back.

You don’t invite him to the wedding, and he’s all too glad not to have to make up an excuse not to go.

* * *

Things settle, after that. Jake gets deployed and reassigned, breaks up with his girlfriend and eventually gets another. You get promoted to senior engineer, then project lead. You see each other, not every year but close enough, sometimes with your husband there, sometimes without.

He braces himself for the next Facebook post; that you’re pregnant, but it never comes. Over time, even that seems to lose some of its potential emotional impact on him.

Until three weeks ago, when you don’t text him back.

* * *

2022

You kick your shoes off in the entryway, then head into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. Before you can reach the tap, the doorbell rings, and for a second you think somehow, some way, your terrible Bumble date has followed you home.

Grabbing the biggest kitchen knife you own off the magnet strip over the sink, just in case, you creep back to the door, barefoot, to press your face up to the peephole.

You don’t really expect to see the guy you just left, the ice in your glass not even melted before you were thinking up excuses to get out of there, but you sure as fuck don’t expect to see Jake either.

The door feels heavier than usual as you slowly slide it open, or maybe you’re just a little stunned. The night air hits your skin, and you can make out the sound of dogs barking in the distance.

For a long moment, Jake just looks at you, but then he says: “What were you planning on doing with that, sweetheart?”

You follow the jut of his chin down the line of your arm, and contemplate the knife for a second, Jake’s sudden appearance having made you forget all about it.

“I thought someone might have followed me here.”

“Ah.” He says, a spark in his eyes, clearly suppressing a smile. “If you were going to defend yourself in hand-to-hand combat, a knife is a terrible choice. I could give you some tips, though.”

Putting the damn thing down on your entryway console, you turn back to look at him. It’s not cold, exactly, in December in South Central Austin, but he looks underdressed: a long-sleeved light grey t-shirt, hands shoved in the pockets of a faded pair of jeans.

He looks good, you can’t deny it: he’s always had an immediate effect on you.

Jake, your somewhat gangly, sweet college boyfriend had it. Jake, ten years of military training later: older, filled out, fine crinkly lines starting to appear at the corners of his eyes (helped along by the California sun and God knows what far-off places), irrevocably still does.

You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts. “What are you doing here, Jake?”

At that, his expression sobers, and he looks at you for a long moment before he says:

“You didn’t tell me.”

* * *

Fucking Sandeep, you think, rubbing the back of your hand across your eyes, because that fucker has not been subtle with the hints lately, tutting like a Victorian matron while you pass the time evaluating your Bumble matches with his husband during Monday night football’s ad breaks.

The granite of your kitchen countertop feels reassuringly cool beneath your thighs, and you take a deep breath, keeping your eyes on the tile below:

“I wasn’t ready.”

Jake huffs, or so you assume by the little sound that escapes him, as you determinedly face only his sneakers: “It’s been a year. You sure told everyone else we know.”

That makes your head snap up, emotion rising in your chest in a way you don’t like, have always had to tamp down when it comes to him, these last ten years. “Fuck off, Jake. You know it’s different when it comes to you.”

He leans back against the fridge, arms folded, just slightly lifting his right eyebrow at you in that irritating way of his: “I could’ve been there for you.”

Fuck it, you think, all cards on the table then. “I was heartbroken, and embarrassed, and trying to figure out how to exist on my own again after being married for five years to someone who didn’t turn out to be who I thought he was, Jake. Sorry my first impulse wasn’t to come cry on my hometown hero ex-boyfriend’s shoulder.”

His eyes soften, and he pushes off the fridge to come stand next to you, running his fingers over the edge of the countertop. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice quieter than a moment ago. “I’m being a dick. It’s just, you have to know, I would’ve been there for you.”

He pauses for a second, takes a deep breath: “It’s always been different when it comes to you too, sweetheart.”

You start to shake, a little, or maybe it’s your imagination. But your voice wavers as you say his name, everything about your tone a warning: “Jake.”

He closes his eyes, shakes his head: “Our timing sucked, and I don’t regret our decision from back then. I’m proud of who I’ve become in the last ten years, and I’m proud of you. You think I don’t keep up with what you’re doing? The articles you’ve published?”

This stuns you, momentarily. “No, Jake Seresin. If I’m completely honest, I didn’t think you gave a shit about the latest advances in Texas drought management.”

Just being near him, the familiar smell of him bringing up memories you’ve had years to unsuccessfully repress, is overpowering.

He makes it worse by turning to you, face so goddamn heartbreakingly earnest as he says: “I couldn’t give you what you deserved, ten years ago, but I always told myself, if I was ever in a position to…” He swallows. “I tried to forget about it when you got married, I tried to root for you and Brett, I swear.”

His hand settles next to your thigh, not quite touching, and your hand comes down on its own accord to cover his. He straightens almost imperceptibly, uses his other palm to wipe a tear that’s made its way down your cheek.

Cupping your face, he draws a deep breath. “I have a permanent assignment now, in San Diego. I know it’s…”

“Jake.” You interrupt, squeezing your eyes shut, grabbing the hem of his shirt. “I’m not remotely the same person I was back then.”

He moves to stand in front of you now, and you draw him in between your thighs. Suddenly it seems imperative that you feel him, that he holds you.

Dipping his head to yours, you can hear the smile in his voice, watery, tentative: “Then let me get to know you again. Get to know me again.” He leans one hand on the counter, the other tracing your cheekbone. “No pressure. I’m totally very cool about this. Whatever you want.”

You laugh, a little choked up through tears, but genuine. It feels liberating. “What if I say yes? How does this work?”

His smile broadens, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he’s so goddamn close, nudging your nose with his. “Come visit me, for a start. I’ll show you the sights.”

You draw him in a little closer still, legs wrapping around his waist, one hand finding its way into his close-cropped hair, and you could cry for how familiar he still feels after all these years.

But when you close the gap between your lips and his, it’s like coming home and yet not at all: he’s different and rougher and sharper and it floods you with emotion, something big and terrifying and old and new.

He leans into the kiss, grinning, cards his fingers through your hair before he moves to cover your chin, your brow, the space next to your ear with kisses, and you remember this with a jolt to your heart – how singularly intense it is to be the focus of Jake Seresin, like the strength of the sun is aimed at you, how he never does anything by halves.

You take his chin in your hand, kiss him again for good measure, before saying, into the stubble of his jaw: “One visit. No pressure.”

The grin he gives you in return could power half this city: “One visit. No pressure.”

He dips his head to yours again, kissing the skin behind your ear as he tells you: “Southern California has a lot of drought problems, you know. I’ve actually been reading some really scary articles about it.”

i hope you enjoyed :):) - if you liked this I hope you’ll check out some of my other work:

where the wild things are (rooster x reader)

cross my heart (hangman x reader) masterlist

#tgm fic #tgm fanfiction #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin x you #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun maverick fic #why am i like this i stg

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moralesmilesanhour · 7 months

Note

Ooo hi, can you write something with gamer/streamer Miles G? Maybe he and the reader just chill and play games talking about life or whatever.

streamer miles!

Ok this went in a sliiightly different direction but the general premise is the same i hope that's ok lmao (also lowkey trying a new writing style/approach)

A/N: comment which animal crossing villager you think miles would like if u want 🫶🏾

You only really see a fraction of a person online.

The messy, disagreeable thoughts that don’t fit into a neat little post, every time you’ve ever tripped over something and ate shit, all of your worst outfits - none of it exists if you don’t make it known. If you decide you’ve never stumbled over your own feet a day in your life, then it’s so. No one’s gonna claw their way through your screen and check.

For example, you had never seen Miles Morales smile with his teeth before until you clicked on his livestream, and none of his viewers would ever be able to guess.

He was laughing at some joke being made in the chat.

“Y’all are terrible,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye.

Miles’ stream had been recommended to you by the ever-mysterious, totally-not-creepy algorithm ‘based on your location’, and the thumbnail with his dimples on full display piqued your curiosity.

He’d been passing by once when you accidentally dropped your books and folders while rushing to class. He knelt down and picked them up without a word, dropping them into your hands in a much neater stack than they had originally been in, from largest to smallest.

Your eyes met for less than two seconds, but you could’ve sworn that there was a softness to them that couldn’t be caught from a distance.

“Thanks!” you called out as the late bell rang. He only nodded before turning away, not bothering to walk any faster.

You never spoke to him again, having no idea what you’d even say. He rarely spoke outside of class, but you had assumed that based on the way he skulked down the hallway and the permanent ‘I’m bored’ look on his face, that he’d be playing something a little more…serious? ‘God of War’ maybe, or ‘Last of Us’. Or some sports-related game that you couldn’t understand.

Certainly not ‘Animal Crossing’.

Tentatively, your fingers hovered over the keyboard as the stream of comments began to slow, and you wondered if he’d be more likely to see it if you commented this instant.

–Who’s ur favorite villager?

There, nice and simple. Inoffensive.

Miles squinted his eyes at what was presumably a second monitor.

“Who’s my favorite villager?” His brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before he put two and two together. “Oh! You mean the li’l animals and shit. Um, the blue penguin? Ace? I like him.”

You sat back and watched him play for another fifteen minutes, most of which were spent figuring out what direction a couch sitting inside his virtual home should face. His voice was low and almost raspy, but…muted. As if someone had turned the volume down on it like you would the radio. He was fortunate to own a decent microphone.

–You got your own PC?

It seems you got lucky a second time, and Miles paused to read your comment aloud once again.

“Yyup,” he answered proudly. “Put it together myself. I’ll do a tour one day. My setup is wavy, you’ll see!”

He continued going back and forth with the comments in chat, occasionally thanking some for making small donations. The fact of him making anything at all just from playing a video game was impressive.

Miles remarked on the ‘classical style’ of one of the buildings on his island, and you snorted. Nerd.

–bro thinks he’s an architect

This made him giggle. A light, breathy sound that you would hardly expect to come out of him.

“You’re a hater, man. Watch me get hired as soon as I’m outta college and build yo’ next apartment building.”

You looked down at your phone and realized it was nearly one in the morning. With a yawn, you said your goodbyes in the comments and left the stream.

The cafeteria was full by the time you got downstairs, leaving not a single space on the white benches save for two completely empty ones near the back.

Well, not completely empty.

As you weaved in between students carrying trays of slop with milk cartons, a familiar pair of cornrows came into view.

It’s now or never.

Timidly, you slid onto the bench right beside Miles. Focused on his meal and the tattered sketchbook he carried around, he looked up at you with just his eyes.

“Hey,” you tried to greet him casually with an awkward smile. “I saw you ye–I mean, I…I saw you. In general.”

His blinked slowly. “We all go to the same school.”

You cleared your throat.

“...Right. We-uh, met in the hallway.”

“You dropped all your books on the floor.”

“Yeah!” you replied a little too loudly. “I just, um, wanted to say hi.”

“...hi.”

There was a stretch of silence as you sifted through a list of topics to rescue the conversation, and a lightbulb went off.

“Do you have any hobbies? Other than drawing, I mean.”

Miles gave up on sketching and answered, “Video games.”

“Which ones you been playing recently?”

“Uh, Mortal Kombat, 2K,” he counted on his fingers, “and Animal Crossing, just to see what it was about–”

“Oh, you’re really good at that one!”

You both froze. Uh-oh.

“And how exactly do you know that?”

“I-I mean, you just…look…like the type?”

You started frantically chipping away at the remaining nail polish on your fingers. Not even you could believe that one.

A tiny grin played on his lips.

“Sure, let’s go with that.”

Soon the bell rang, saving you from making any further incriminating comments.

“See you in class?”

“Yeah, see you in class,” Miles replied, before tilting his head. “Or wherever I see you.”

#y'all like my lil gradient i like this color #miles morales fic #miles morales x reader #miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader #moralesanhour

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estinininininen · 3 months

Text

FFXIV fans this is your daily reminder that if Estinien has even a tiny fraction of Nidhogg's memories he knows a hell of a lot more than he's letting on.

Nidhogg remembers at least three Umbral Calamities, and probably four or five. Safe to assume he defended Coerthas from Allag, and that he heard Vrtra looking for Azdaja and the primal-ification of Bahamut through dragon song. The DRG 80 quest states Nidhogg considered himself guardian of the star after Midgardsormr. At his prime, Nidhogg may have even known or been trying to learn his father's abilities - the changing form, the crystals, possibly even the ability to speak with Hydaelyn. Theory time: Hydaelyn may have even rejected him for being a dragon supremacist.

Estinien's shortcomings (if you don't have another silly explanation for them) have to do with mortal knowledge and interactions, like niceties, coin, and bluffing immigration officers. He asks for the Scions to explains things because they have discovered stuff nobody knew before this, or they were using vocabulary he doesn't know.

In Shadowbringers the idea of Ascians doesn't phase him, but the different shards and time travel nonsense throw him for a bit of a loop, coincidentally things Nidhogg wouldn't know. He is very tense at the idea of the WOL seeing his memories, and leaves immediately, but after telling you he shares Nidhogg's memories in 5.5 he chills out and hangs around more. Like he saw the writing on the wall about joining the Scions and covered his own ass in case of an Echo vision.

In Endwalker the reason I think he said "At least I will not pretend to understand this talk of ancient primals or the Final Days" and the like is because he has to constantly sort out if what Nidhogg knew was correct. He is remarkably chill staring up at Hydaelyn like "ya bitch let's go let's fight God." What Hydaelyn said to Estinien about hate becoming love is ambiguous enough it could also apply to Nidhogg.

And you are still the only person he has directly told he shares some memories with Nidhogg. He is deliberately not sharing this with people. He doesn't want to be Nidhogg. Most of the information is pointless outside of Coerthas in the 7th astral era. He makes an exception when he is the only one who knows something important - there's a Great Wyrm behind the curtain, how to motivate depressed dragons, the Eyes of Nidhogg are active again better find them, Omega? wait the thing that chased Midgardsormr? if not me better make sure someone handles it, oh shit Zenos is standing back up that's not Zenos anymore-

Then he just wants to have a drink and some dried squid and chill out. Not get interrogated about past kingdoms, or have his brain and eyes poked at when he dies ( . . . if he's even mortal anymore.)

#estinien varlineau #estinien #estinien wyrmblood #ffxiv nidhogg #scions of the seventh dawn #ffxiv endwalker spoilers #heavensward #ffxiv spoilers #first brood #great wyrms #nidhogg #bahamut ffxiv #vrtra

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targaryenrealnessdarling · 10 months

Note

Happy follower milestone! Maybe an Ettore onesbot where reader is assistant to the doctor Dibs and maybe some kind of nurse kink???

Afflictions Of A Dark Nature

Thank you for the request! I hope this lives up to your expectations! This is my first time writing for Ettore so apologies if it seems OOC, I did try my best (I even re-watched High Life and will be sending the bill for emotional damages). Also get well soon @ewanmitchellcrumbs 😚

Warnings under the cut! Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Ettore Taglist

Warnings: *deep breath* lots of swearing, mentions of past sexual encounters that may have not been consensual, fingering, dub-con, p in v sex, ass slapping, degradation, mentions of a blood test, male masturbation, oral (f receiving), creampie, cum eating, dacryphyilia, choking, kinda face slapping?, ass play, spitting, overstimulation | Word Count: 6.4k~ | dividers by @firefly-graphics

If he had to see that wrinkly, smug face of Dr Dibs again, Ettore would lose it.

He knew who he was. He wasn’t beyond acting out against women if he wanted to. It’s part of what put him here in the first place. Drifting through space, on some suicide mission that the oh-so-wise earthlings had decided it would be better to doom prisoners to death rather than qualified astronauts. Not like it mattered. He was on death-row anyway, so what loss really was it?

Only the loss of his complete sanity.

He knew that if he lashed out at anyone, even Dr Dibs, there’d be a punishment of sorts. In a way that was wholly unethical for someone who is supposed to provide care, but hey, who’s keeping track. Nobody gives a shit on earth. She could put arsenic in the water supply if she wanted to, and nobody could say a thing about it.

For the sake of at least living longer, though it made him dry-heave inside, he sweetened up, got more sleeping pills out of it as a result, which in this place was gold dust. A long, good-night’s sleep did little to take a person away from a situation like this, but it was at least something. A small mercy in a way.

Deep down, there was a need-no, an impulse that Ettore couldn’t shake.

But before he could indulge in the memories of those needs, someone called his name.

“Ettore, is it?”

Her voice was sweet, far too compassionate for someone stuck aboard working on this fucked up prison. And when she raised her eyebrows at him to elicit a response, she gave a polite smile. When was the last time someone smiled at him, truly?

She had a clipboard in front of her, disguising the lanyard around her neck and she wore blue scrubs, which looked the same design as the prisoners, but instead theirs were red.

Perhaps to show how dangerous they were. Hers was clinical and clean. Pure.

He wore suspicion on his face, marked with the furrow of his brows and without saying a word he stood and followed her into the infirmary. She was a head shorter than him which made him smirk when he was sure she wasn’t looking.

All he knew was that he was grateful it wasn’t that wrinkly, smug bitch. He was sure she was doing something fucking weird to them. Just couldn’t put his finger on what.

When she drew the curtain, she let him in first, “Have a seat”

This cubicle was at least separate. And even though they’d not been on the ship for long, it looked crusty and old, with those wax linoleum floors, vile padded walls. It looked like it was going to fall apart.

Ettore slumped into a chair next to a computer with a huff, taking in his surroundings, still trying to figure out what to make of this new person. Why hadn’t he seen her before? And she looked a lot younger than Dibs, was she even a real doctor or nurse at all?

Her hair was in a loose bun, fractionally more formal than Dibs who wore her braid like armour over her shoulder at all times. It made her look older, despite what Dibs would like to have believed.

She sat down in front of the computer, typing in a few things, and he admired her face for a moment in silence. The way the light of the monitor reflected off the colour of her eyes, how her tongue darted out to lick her lips when she was trying to read something and how fast her fingers typed on the old, beige keyboard that was far too loud for his liking. Sounded like a clock was ticking in his brain.

He didn’t say a word. As was Ettore’s way. He was usually never one to speak first. He was an observer, seeking out the weaknesses of people as if he could simply by looking, like he could extract a little piece of them the longer he did. For her though, he couldn’t make her out.

When Ettore craned his head slowly to look, he could see she was reading his medical history and it made him feel special to know that she was finding out everything she could about him. He wished he could do the same to her. Find out all her little secrets.

“Just some general things and blood work today, nothing fancy” she says, meeting his eyes for a moment with another polite smile, the kind of smile where she’s clearly just trying to be nice, but Ettore can’t help the deep ache in his core to have a woman in front of him now, after years of not touching one. The Box was fine, sure, but there was no other feeling like a woman. Their warm, fleshy insides, each ridge within different from woman to woman.

Something knocked on the door in his mind. A sinful thought had arrived and asked how would she feel? Did she use the Box as well? Who did she think of when she touched herself?

“Roll up your sleeve for me” she instructs, holding the blood pressure monitor in her hands and tearing the velcro away.

She meets his eyes again briefly to find him already looking at her when she leans forward to wrap it around his bicep, right over where his tattoo is. She has small, soft hands, indicative of her work. How would they feel on him, wrapped around his cock? Would her hands even surround him? That was all he could think about as she patted the cuff in place, brushing against his shoulder.

The machine whirred to life and it squeezed his arm, at the end bordering on pain which made him wince. She busied herself with typing on her computer in the meantime, the lanyard around her neck now visible, showing her name.

Got you.

When the machine beeped, she looked at the screen and put the results into his record, wheeling her chair to him again to take it off. He felt his cock get hard beneath his scrubs not just at the feel of her hands on him again, but now because of her proximity. He assumed everyone used the same soap here, she was no exception. But it smelled different on her and he inhaled a deep, long breath to commit as much of it to memory as he could.

She looked surprised when he spoke, as if she hadn’t expected him to.

“Why haven’t I seen you around”

It was hardly a questioning tone, more like an accusation. But she didn’t flinch away at it, rather, she was used to it.

She gave another polite smile, “Oh well, I’m usually in here, running all the tests Dibs gives me” she explains, getting her additional tools ready for the blood test, “But she wanted more help with ‘menial’ tasks like this, is how she put it” she says with a short, quiet huff of a laugh, like she thinks the reasoning was poor.

“So now you’re doing poor sod’s blood tests?”

She nodded, “Something like that”

Her tools were lined up, a tourniquet, a syringe and some cotton swabs. She pulled a pair of blue gloves on and moved her chair closer to him.

“So you’re gonna poke at me?” he asks, half-amused, like he’s testing her.

She cleans the area around his arm with alcohol, a puff of air coming out her nose in a quiet laugh, tightening the tourniquet on him “Just seeing if you have good veins” she says, running her thumb over the pale skin of his arm, clearly finding a vein she was happy with.

Dr Dibs always missed his vein at least once, and he’d clench his fist as the needle went in. He wasn’t into drugs, like a lot of other prisoners here, so he wasn’t used to the prickly feeling. He found pleasure in other ways he deemed fit.

“Just a scratch” she mutters, inserting the needle beneath his skin, smiling to herself when blood goes into the bottle. First time.

Ettore watched the vial fill with rich, thick blood, and then watched her, “You seem a bit young to be a doctor”

"Technically I'm a Junior Doctor" she replies, concentrating on his blood flow before meeting his eyes again. She seems to look at him deeply, her pupils flirting across his face now that they're so close to each other. He hears every little breath, every movement of her throat as she swallows thick, like she's nervous. And everytime her tongue darts out to wet her lips, he stares at the pinkness of it, thinking of how it would feel.

"Should I be trusting you to give me a blood test?" He teases with a wolfish grin, trying to see just how far he can push his luck.

"Hm, I don't suppose you have much choice" her smile turns a bit devilish at his quip, which quite honestly, the turn of her lips makes him want to bend her over the desk and fuck her right then and there. Wants to see what kind of sweet sounds she might make. Even the thought of it makes his cock ache.

“Suppose not”

"I'm allowed to give you blood tests" she says with a teasing smile, pulling the needle from his arm and replacing it with a cotton swab, "Hold that there for me"

He obeys, holding it with his thumb firmly, smirking at the banter he didn't expect to have. The fact that she doesn't visibly seem afraid of him only spurs him on more. Thinking how far can he really go to make her feel uncomfortable. To make her realise just how dangerous he is, what he could do to her.

If anything he's shocked at his own restraint that he's managed this long without touching her. Such a small little thing. She wouldn’t stand a chance against him if he put his mind to it. And in those cute little scrubs as well, she doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing to him. How easy would it be to just rip right through them, to see if she was wearing anything underneath. He imagined she wasn’t, and that he’d rip them open to be greeted with her bare, soft skin, how plush and feminine her tits would be, filling his palm. He wants to squeeze them painfully, make her whine out like a slut.

His body is getting hot, blood thrumming with want.

Once the cotton swab is secured to his arm with adhesive, he can’t take his eyes off her, challenging her to meet his gaze to see what she would do.

“Why are you here?” he asks, intrigued. She doesn’t look a bit like a criminal. But he could be surprised by her and he has a feeling he will.

“That’s a personal question” she states, not losing the lazy smirk on her face at the fact he’s clearly so interested in her, “why are you here?”

“Alright, point taken”

She doesn’t prod for more information.

Holding out a clear tub to him, “You know what to do right?” she asks, clearly holding back a wider smile.

Cheeky bitch.

He snatches it from her grasp with a grin, “Now?”

Her eyebrow twitches in amusement.

“However long it takes”

A jolt goes through his body, as if a light had just come on inside. Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.

Fucking cock tease.

He gave her a look before drawing the curtain in the cubicle, barely a few feet from where she sat. So close that he could hear her typing on her computer, hear her quiet sighs. What sweet noises would she make with his cock prodding her soft, tight insides.

Usually when he did sperm samples for Dibs, he took no enjoyment from the idea that she was essentially in the same room as him, not that it took him any less time to cum, she was still a woman and that meant something. As repulsive as she seemed.

But when he took himself in his fist and stroked himself to hardness, teased himself with eyes softly falling shut, he imagined they were her hands. Everytime he squeezed from base to tip, reaching down with the other hand to cup his balls, wondering what her tongue would feel like dragging over every inch of him. Would she tease him? Lick his angry red tip only slightly, and that sensitive spot underneath, flattening her wet muscle over it slowly, allowing him to feel every warm and minute movement.

Without even really realising, his hand was guiding himself faster, desperate to feel the friction of her pussy choking him. Would she buck her hips to meet his desperate thrusts, or squirm away as he bullied the end of her, pushing against her cervix recklessly. He wanted her to be a good girl, and just take what he gave her. If he started, would he really truly be able to stop?

He struggled to hold in the shuddered breaths and he very nearly forgot to put the tub in front of him before finishing. A pleasant roll of warmth ran through his body, one that quickly turned into a dark, deep desire. His hand wasn't enough. He hadn’t touched a woman in so long. He wanted the real thing and she was right there. Dirty bitch was probably already wet thinking about what he was doing.

Slipping through the curtain he handed it out to her and she took it with an amused raise of her eyebrows.

“That was quick” she quipped, putting a lid on it and writing his name for the label.

Oh she’s going to get it, dirty fucking mouth.

He couldn’t hold off the sort of accomplished grin on his face, she was more fun than he thought. For a moment, he allowed himself to just simply observe her, wondering what other fun they could have.

He was growing impatient at not being able to act on those thoughts.

“Is that it?” he asks, making her look up again.

“Unless you have any other…ailments?” Ettore doesn’t miss the way she suppresses a grin by biting the inside of her cheek. He doesn’t suppress his and feels impossibly hard once again seeing her dainty lips curl up just slightly. She must be able to see beneath the thin fabric of his scrubs, how much he wants her. Let her see, he thinks, make her squirm a bit.

He watches the way her eyes briefly run over him. It was so quick, that had he not been looking right at her, he would have missed it. She swallows, feeling like he caught her and turns away a bit, trying to hide the warm feeling that settles between her legs at the way he’s looking at her, exciting and yet dangerous at the same time.

She only hopes he doesn’t notice the way she’s squeezed her thighs together.

“Smashing then, cheers doc” he smirks, sauntering off with a certain swagger about him, knowing that his sweet, innocent looking little doctor is all worked up. He looks over his shoulder before leaving.

The ache of the blood test is completely forgotten. Instead, all his blood is below his waist, with none left for his brain to function. It’s been a while since a woman last did this to him. Yeah he’d fucked plenty of women, some had even wanted it. But he wanted her to want it. Wanted the little slut to beg for it. To beg him to stuff her full of his cock.

That was new, he thought. But it didn’t deter him from trying to get near her when she was alone, for any chance he could get at having her all to himself.

Annoyingly, he didn’t find the opportunity for quite some time.

Anytime he stalked past her office, there was always some other prisoner inside, having their own tests. A flash of something akin to a dark jealousy courses through his veins, his hands forming fists whenever he hears her talking in a hushed voice to another male prisoner, speaking in that way that only a doctor does.

It’s short lived, when he realises she doesn’t speak as sweetly to them as she does to him.

It feels like he’s had a hard-on for days, just merely thinking about being alone with her. It’s beginning to become painful just how much he wants it, to make her squirm for him, to make her cry. His use of the Box has increased dramatically, but the more he does it, the less the effect. His hand doesn’t do it for him anymore. He can’t replicate that tightness only a woman's cunt could give, the feeling of being sucked so desperately inside someone, being milked for all he’s worth. He dreams of it. She would take it all, he thinks, she’d be a good little slut and take it.

He thinks that if he goes there often enough, he might just run into her, drag her inside, or to a nearby hallway, or even tackle her to the floor if need be and shove himself so deep in her she won’t be able to hold back her wanton moans. He imagines holding her arms behind her back so she can’t move, brutally fucking her so hard that her hips will be bruised.

He’s always liked walking around in the dark, even though he knows he’s not really allowed.

Tonight though, it rewards him.

A soft light emanates from her office and when he leans against the doorway to peek inside, he emits a quiet laugh through his nose, hands in pockets, just watching her.

Her hair is free of the loose bun she wore before and it trails down her back as she’s sat in her chair, leaning over a microscope. She’s so engrossed in what she’s doing and recording notes that his presence doesn’t even disturb her.

He didn’t even think about announcing his presence. He wanted her genuine reaction.

So he didn’t think twice about stalking up behind her and grabbing a fistful of her hair, yanking her back. Only a quiet gasp escaped before he slammed his palm over her mouth, muffling a surprised cry.

“Shut the fuck up” he warned with a low voice.

She froze at his words, eyes wide and breathing heavily, not even having to wonder who it was. His fingers curled painfully against her scalp, tugging her up so her back is to him. Ettore can feel her hurried breaths out her nose hitting his hand.

“Be quiet and I’ll play nice” he says against the shell of her ear, making her body shudder, drawing his hand away from her mouth.

“What the hell are you doing?” she whispers accusingly behind her as he pushes the front of her body close to the desk, the edge biting into the front of her legs. His hands run down the sides of her, sucking in the fabric to the shape of her body, growling low at finally being able to see her form underneath.

“I came to see you” he grins,

“Fucking liar”

There was something exciting about being called out like that, and about her saying such vulgar words. As sweet as she looked, he knew there was something deep inside, somewhere he wanted to prod and poke at.

“It’s your own fucking fault” he snarls, pushing his hardness against the softness of her ass. He feels her freeze up for a moment, as if she’s just putting the pieces together, “prancing about in your slutty fucking doctor’s outfit”

One hand dips beneath the hem of her scrubs, a warm sigh expelled from his chest at the softness of her stomach beneath it, trailing higher over her ribs. He can almost feel her pounding heart from here, and it does nothing to deter him, the smirk on his face evidence of that. His large palm tugs at one of her clothed breasts, slightly annoyed to see that she’s wearing a bra underneath, but he squeezes it all the same, relishing in the pained whine she lets out in response to it.

His other hand tugs her forearm almost painfully behind her, twisting it in his grip harshly. He fully knew how strong he was compared to her and couldn’t have her doing anything rash. Best to keep her hands where he can see them.

“I was just trying to be nice” she counters with a harshness to her voice, not being able to take the breathiness out of it, “Damn sight better than what most of you deserve” she briefly struggles in his hold, that is until he tightens the clamp on her wrist. A warning.

“Careful” he warns low in her ear, “I don’t think you understand the situation right now”

“You need to get off me. Now” she tries to push her hips away from him, but at her blatant refusal, he only pushes himself closer to her, moaning softly at the friction against him and the warmth of her even with her scrubs separating them.

He resists the urge to outright laugh, and scoffs instead, “You are in no position to make demands to me. I see right through you…you want me”

She only grunts painfully in response, half-trying to tear her hand away. Not trusting herself to say anything. Ettore almost wants to laugh at how pathetically she’s trying to avoid showing how she really feels.

“How long has it been, hm?” he says, more like a growl than anything, as his hand dips beneath the waistband of her scrubs, “Since someone touched you here”

She doesn’t reply, half fighting and half giving in. But then his hand cups her clothed sex, only covered by her thin underwear and she feels his large palm rub against her, her clit throbbing with desire at not having been touched in so long. God it had been so long. His fingers tease her entrance, rubbing in circles, coaxing some slick from her.

“A while, huh?” he smirks.

“Stop it, we’ll get in trouble” she says, but it comes out a whisper, not able to hide the way his hand against her most intimate area is having such an effect on her. The heel of his palm rubs against her bundle of nerves, making her blood feel like fire in her veins, arousal pooling in her belly.

“You think I give a fuck?” he retorts, grinning, “I would have a thousand punishments if I meant I could shove my cock in your tight little hole”

“You wouldn’t”

He does laugh at that, “You wanna bet?”

Her body briefly goes rigid, trying to hold back a genuine moan when his hand dips past her underwear, and Ettore groans at the feeling of her warm, wet pussy, coating his fingers with her slick. Her eyes break closed, mouth taut into a thin line to hold in her whine, body slightly trembling at how hard she is trying to hold back.

“You talk all this shit and you’re fucking soaked for me” he grins against her ear, “is this what was under that uniform…while you were prodding and poking me?”

She gasps, her lips opening in a hurried breath as his digit sinks into her, teasing her soft, spongy walls with the calloused pads of his fingertips. She doesn’t answer him. Can’t. She can just feel herself getting warmer. It’s undeniable, the effect he has on her. And she’s not sure if she’d be wise to submit to it.

But it’s getting harder and harder by the second not to.

“Oh, you’re filthy” he says, inserting another finger, stretching her pussy with them, softly but harshly pushing inside “getting off on taking my blood, fucking slut”

At both his words and motions, she lets out a soft and quiet moan, a pressure inside her building the more she feels his fingers caressing her warm, wet walls.

Ettore tugs down his sweatpants, freeing his cock which sits hot and heavy against the curve of her ass, the tip flushed and stood to attention against his stomach. He gives himself a few pumps, pushing forward to let her feel him. He doesn’t even bother to begin the tryst with kissing. He’s not like that.

It’s much too soft and intimate a gesture, compared to what he plans to do with her.

She turns her head, now just quietly moaning at the pleasure his fingers give her, eyes half open and a hedonistic expression on her face. She sees him pull his shirt up his chest, and then looks down, to see what exactly is pushing hard against her backside.

Before she has any time to react, his hand is curled around her nape, pushing her head flush against the table in front of her, sending the samples scattering to the floor.

"Stop it!" She protests, trying to wiggle helplessly out his grasp, "I'll scream"

She sees him smirk, looking down at her with a half lidded lust filled gaze.

"Do it then, makes it more interesting" he shows his teeth, tugging down her scrubs song with her underwear. Now with her body flush against the table and stuck, both his hands knead the globes of her ass, his fingers leaving pink marks in their wake. He takes fistfuls, spreading them to have a proper look at her glistening pussy, just waiting for him. She whimpers at the pleasured pain it emits when his fingers hold her apart, only to turn into a surprised gasp as he kicks her ankles apart.

“Someone could walk in!” she whisper-shouts, holding her hand to her mouth to muffle any sounds when he runs the tip of his cock over her soaked folds, slapping it against her clit and smiling at her reaction.

“Let them watch then, they can see how much of a mess I’ll make of you” he purrs leaning down to press his chest against her back, “None of that either” he pulls her hand from her mouth, “I want to hear how desperate you are for me”

With her cheek flush against the table, she had to only move her eyes to look at him. Glazed over with the pupil blown wide, it betrays just how much she may or may not want it, she still doesn’t want to show him. She’s almost annoyed at his cockiness, until she feels just how big he is, teasing her ever so slightly at her entrance.

“Now let’s see what pretty noises you can make for me, hm?”

He pushes against her, parting her folds, pulling her hips towards him to sink as much inside her as he can. His heart beats faster as he feels her pussy choke him tightly, every single ridge feels like fucking magic against his cock, he feels like just finishing inside her right there. She chokes a moan, his curved member rubbing up inside her at all the right angles the further inside he goes, until he kisses the end of her with the tip, reaching places she could never with her own fingers in the Box. Her back arches slightly as he bottoms out inside her, his fingers so tight on her hips they will definitely be bruised tomorrow.

He doesn’t give her time to adjust, not even a second, as he pulls all the way out, his length covered in her slick and slams back inside with a wet smack, watching how the flesh of her ass ripples when his hips meet it.

“Oh you’re bad…” he purrs, setting a brutally quick pace. Her eyes softly shut, her front rubbing almost painfully against the stainless steel table with each hard thrust.

“Gonna have you on every fucking flat surface in this ship” he breathes, his voice hurried from the effort and how she tightens around him at his words, “you’d like that wouldn’t you….everyone watching how much of a slut you are”

She yelps out in a pained moan when he slaps her ass, gripping it after to emphasise the burn, “Answer me”

“Yes-yes…” she manages through hurried breaths, trying to control her volume but rapidly failing.

Every time he fucks into, the sheer thickness of him pushes the air out of her lungs every time, her walls stretching against him to accommodate. Ettore smirks down at the view. She lets out between a sob and a moan when she feels his spit on her puckered hole, his thumb rubbing circles against it and spreading his saliva over her sensitive skin.

It feels so right and wrong at the same time. And when he pushes a thumb inside, only making her feel more full than she already does, she can't help but buck her ass against him, wanting more friction, pleasured tears falling down her cheeks. It really had been a while since she last had sex, obviously. But nobody had been this forward and rough with her before.

“See? I know you like this…knew you wanted to fuck me the second you saw me” he mocks, giving one hard, deep thrust inside which has her squirming against him with a desperate whine, his thumb sank all the way inside her ass, the movement of their fucking aiding in stimulating that as well.

He thinks, one day he'll claim that hole of hers as well.

But not today.

He pulls out quickly and instantly tugs at her hair, turning her over so that he can see her face. She’s sat weakly up on the counter, thighs held apart for him by one of his hands. Poor thing looks tired out, he thinks, looking at her watery eyes and flushed cheeks, her head lolling back against the counters with a thud.

“Are you fucking crying?” he grins, softly slapping her cheek and grabbing her face so she looks at him, “really has been a while, huh? That’s a bit pathetic”

He practically rips the shirt off her, not even bothering to take the bra underneath off and just tugs it to the side, freeing her breasts. He groans at the sight, perky, rosy and stood to attention in the now hot office, smelling of pure, unadulterated sex. They fill his palms perfectly, and he tugs at them with his fingers, revelling in the low, chesty mewl she lets out.

It’s no effort at all the way his cock just slides into her again, slowly. Too slowly.

She feels the curve of his cock, different in this new position, every vein and ridge. His thickness splits her open until he hits the end of her, pounding mercilessly into her, making the cupboards jolt in place with each snap of his hips against her thighs, which he is keeping in his palms wide apart. Ettore grins down, watching at the way his cock disappears into her over and over, at the ripple of her soft, soft skin each time.

She arches her back against him, warm, pleasured tears pricking at her eyes the closer she gets to that tight, hot pressure in her tummy bursting. He laughs as she clenches noticeably around him,

“What is it, hm?” he sneers, “or have I fucked you stupid?”

Her moans are so desperate she really does look pathetic, “fuck…I’m gonna-”

“You gonna cum for me?” he taunts with a wide smirk, all of this just doing wonders for his ego, “now, why would I let you do that?”

“...ne-need it…”

He never lets up his pace as once hand curls into her neck, tugging her forward so that her eyes are solely on him. She moans softly at the rough action.

Pathetic.

“You gonna be a good girl and be quiet?”

She nods as best she can, his hand tightening only slightly around her neck, trying to will her voice to come out between the deafening smacks of their fucking.

“Yes..”

“Say please, then”

“Please-I need it” she begs in a horse voice.

He shoves her back roughly, smacking her head against the cupboards, watching her tits as they bounce. Truthfully, he can feel himself getting close as well, but more than anything he wants to watch her come undone on his cock. Show her just how much fun she could have with him if she just let herself.

Her cheeks are pink and her chest is dotted with warmth as the air in the office is hot and thick, even more so at the pleasurable lack of oxygen his hand around her neck gives. It makes it harder for those strained moans to pass her lips.

Every drag through her hot, ridged core sends sparks of pleasure through him, crawling up his spine.

You first.

She sucks in a breath when he lets go of her neck, allowing his thumb into her mouth. She sucks on the digit greedily, using her tongue to coat it with saliva. Ettore almost moans at just the sight of her.

He'll have that mouth too, he thinks.

A string breaks between her mouth and her thumb as he presses it suddenly against her clit, hard. She gasps at the painful pleasure of his rough actions, swirling his thumb over her bud to bring her to that precipice first.

Her hands grip his shoulders, but he quickly tears them off him, "I didn't say you could touch me" he snarls in between devastating thrusts, drawing figures of eight on her clit and watching as she squirms.

Her hands brace the counter either side of her legs, needing something to hold onto, "...m sorry…"

"You will be fucking sorry. Stupid bitch"

If it's possible, he moves himself into her faster, bullying that rough patch inside her with such severity that her eyebrows furrow together, her mouth open in a silent scream. She contracts around him at the combined pleasure of his cock and his stimulation to her bud, knuckles going white at her grip on the counter.

"Such a perfect pussy…never fucking using that Box again…not when I have this…" he breathes pressing his body against hers so they are flush, his nose running up the side of her neck.

"Ettore, please…"

It's not really a request, just something that passes her lips. And he knows the second he feels her clench so tightly that she's done for, when her back arches towards him and her body goes rigid for a split second.

Her teeth sink into his skin at his shoulder, muffling the scream of pleasure that threatens to escape. He knows that will be there for days and it will most definitely hurt in the morning.

A gush of arousal soaks his cock and he continues to pound into her through it, pressing his thumb into her clit, extending her little death into a devastating abyss of warmth and rapture. Her walls quiver with overstimulation around him, and he can feel the wetness of her tears on his shoulder, her desperate whines.

"Fuck-shit" Ettore pushes inside once more, hard, with a barely stifled groan, huffing a pleasured laugh at the feeling of stuffing her with his cum and the warmth that surrounds him.

He wants to stay like that forever, keeping his cum inside her with his cock. Her thighs shake slightly, and he delights in the fact that she might not be able to walk afterwards. To remind her who she belongs to, now that he's claimed her.

He calms his hurried breathing just enough to pull his rapidly softening cock from her, earning a low whine from her once she pulls her teeth from him. Her tits move slowly with her breathing, thighs still shaking ever so slightly and parted to give him a good view of the mess he's made of her.

Her arousal combined with the cum that's leaking out of her activates a primal part of his brain and he's tempted to fuck her brains out again, but knows he wouldn't be able to.

Another time.

"Look at my filthy little doctor"

He pulls her thighs close to him, teetering on the edge of the table, and all she's able to do is make a sound of surprise, eyes widening as he sinks to his knees between her legs.

"No-no, Ettore-" she protests quickly. Her hands going back to bracing the counter tightly when she feels his warm, wet muscle lapping against her soaked folds, a combination of her climax and his swirling over his tongue with such lewdness it makes her flush bright red.

After such a recent and all-consuming orgasm, she flinches when his tongue swirls over her clit, the vibrations of his low moans against it feels much too overwhelming now.

"Please-too much-"

He runs his tongue flat over her core, groaning at the combined taste of them and lapping up whatever leaks out of her. He could spend fucking days between her legs if she tastes like this all the time. Her arousal is so sweet and tart, musky when combined with his. Mixed with his cum, he thinks, she's made to be fucked by him. Made to be filled.

Fucking her with his tongue through her fluttering walls, her hand cards through his hair, tugging. To push him away or to bring him closer, she's torn between the two. The warmth of his mouth against her is just too tempting to want him to stop and when he moves his face side to side, his sharp nose nuzzling against her already over-used clit…

"Fuck! Please-"

The orgasm that rocks through her body blazes every nerve in its path, all the way down to the way his tongue is still lapping and sucking her juices, as if she's the best thing he's tasted since boarding this hellscape of a ship. He takes every bit of essence, sighing and moaning, with a grip so iron on her thighs, she can't move even if she wanted to.

Ettore rises to his feet, giving one more flattened lap over her core, sucking at her clit, which makes her twitch. Her glazed over, wettened eyes meet his, the blue almost entirely encompassed by black. He looks like an animal who's just tasted blood again after a long time of being caged. She doesn't entirely know why, but it makes her throb with desire, and it frightens even her to know that such a dangerous man, a criminal no less, is making her feel this way.

It makes her think, is she any better for enjoying it as much as she did.

He looks down at her, almost entirely bared to him, his reddened marks blossoming over her skin in early bruises. Her fucked-out face, a mix of lust and confusion, with that tell-tale pink to her cheeks.

A dangerous grin widens across his face.

"I meant it you know…" he says, dark and low, "...I'm not using that fucking Box ever again"

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alexa-fika · 4 months

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okay hold up I just a.. unique idea

Im rewatching OP and im at sabody arc, n Laffy jist knocked the shit outta the noble

Idk who to ask this for but id love to see how'd you'd write a character reacticing to a noble trynna BUY child reader..

Or perhaps how mihawk would react with them trynna buy winged!child!reader?? IDK IT JIST SPROUTED

Do with as you will👹

Embracing Feelings and Family (Rayleigh x gn!winged!child!reader)

A/N: Not sure how to feel about this one., I think is really mid, maybe it’s just because of the dark nature of the piece itself but idk. I think this goes without saying based on the request but beware of the dark undertones of this piece as it portrays human slavery and auctioning. I couldn’t come up with something for mihawk so I went with our favorite grandpa

Dividers by @/saradika

“Up next, we have ourselves a true rarity! This one will blow your minds; we have a winged child! You can fly it around as you want or even have them carry you around the skies! They can even deliver you special things in a fraction of a time!” The announcer enthusiastically explained

“Let us start the bid at 10 Million Berry! Who offers 10 Million Berry?!”

“Let me go, you Jerks! Im not an item!” The child growls, banging on the cage’s bars

Charlos awes childishly before throwing out the first bid

“It’s a big Bird! It’s a Big Bird! 50 million Berry!” He yelled out joyfully before waving happily to the child in the cage

“Grandpa will get you all! Grandpa will save me, you gross creeps!”

The bidders ignore the child’s threats, continuing to bid

“60 million!” A man in the back screams

“80 million!” Another man hollers back

“I’ll do 800 million!” Charlos shouts back while waving his arms frantically in the air excitedly

“D-Does somebody bid any higher?”

“800 million….” “Awe, man, I was excited to have it too!” The crowd mutters

“Going in 3!

Going in 2!

Going in 1!

Sold!

The winged child goes to Saint Charlos for 800 million berry!”

Reader screams as they open the door to their cage and begin pulling on the chains, trying to pull them out and take him toward Charlos.

“Don’t touch me!” They sneered, throwing a kick toward the handler that was closest to them

The handler dodges out of the way and gives them a look.

“Rude little one, don’t bite the hand that feeds you!” The handler growls

“You have just been bought for a very generous amount of money for no one less than a Saint himself! A nobody like you should be Grateful!” They turn towards The Saint and bow

“A-Apologies for its insolence Saint Charlos; if I may, I’ll gladly teach it some manners for you; no need to trouble someone of your status to teach slaves some tricks.”

Charlos groans, sticking his finger in his nose.

“Could you hurry it up? I want to fly it!”

“Yes, Yes, of course; im sure you must be extremely busy, Saint Charlos. I promise not to take more time than is needed!” they assure him, turning around towards the child

“Now come here, you stupid brat,” they growl, raising a baton towards them.

“You will learn to listen!" the exclaim, bringing the baton down, but instead of receiving a blow, the man before them falls to the ground, knocked unconscious.

Reader sighs with relief when the man falls to the ground, the people in the auctioning house following the familiar pattern they have come to expect from their grandpa’s powerful Haki

“Grandpa!” They say, trying to flutter their way to Rayleigh but are cut short due to the chains binding them, causing them to plummet to the ground

“Ow”

“Geez, Reader.”

Rayleigh sighs calmly as he wrenches the chains from them easily, not paying any mind to the explosions that followed once they were removed.

“You seem to be able to get yourself in all kinds of trouble,” He says calmly as he sets the child back down

“Haven’t I told you not to get near this place and much less showing off those wings of yours?”

“What was it this time?” He asks as he looks them over for injuries

“I tried to fly higher…but a wind current caught me, and I couldn’t get myself out from it; it dragged me here, and they brought me here.”

“A wind current?” Rayleigh asks curiously

“One strong enough to drag even you, that’s pretty surprising, to say the least,” He says as he continues to look them over

“Are you alright? Have you sustained any injuries?”

“Im okay.”

“Alright, good to know,” He says as he scoops them up and leaves the wretched place.

“That must have been scary, huh? Im sorry it took me so long to get there; my body doesn’t move the way I want to anymore.”

“I wasn’t scared,” they mutter

“It’s okay, you know.”

“What?”

“To be scared for one’s life from time to time it’s not something one should be ashamed to admit; it doesn’t make us any less brave; you have the right to be scared, just as much as you have the right to be brave.”

“Your feelings are real; you shouldn’t deny them,” He says as he continues to carry them

They stare at him as their eyes begin to water

He smiles gently

“Just let it out, Reader; no one will think less of you for being scared.”

They hug him tighter, diving their head in his shirt as sobs start escaping them

“T-They kept calling me ‘it,’ they kept saying how they would fly me around like I was a kite,” they sob

He ran his fingers through their hair while he let them continue to cry, hugging them back tightly as he did.

He couldn’t help the anger he felt rising when thinking about what had happened inside the auction house

He rubs their back gently as he continues to walk

“Nothing that they told you in it is true; Reader, do not listen to their words; you are invaluable and your own person, not someone to be owned,” He says

“I -I know b-but the way they said it, they meant it, Grandpa; I was nothing but an item for them to use in their eyes.”

He pulls them a bit more tightly as he did

"I know, some people are like that, wretched beings who enjoy stepping in other people and causing them misery simply because they can."

“You are someone special to me; always remember that; you are the biggest treasure for me and your grandmother,” He says gently as they rub their back

"Now what do you say we go back to the shack and ask Grandma to make you your favorite drink?" they offer, chuckling when they feel the child nooding

"Can we add extra chocolate to it?"

"Anything you want, Reader," he smiles, knowing that it would take a long time and effort to build their confidence and sense of security back to where it was after everything that had happened, but they would get there together.

Ya’ll I have summoned my choice wheels to do some platonic!reader x character, not child reader, normal age reader but still platonic 👀 Had to fight to find some good roulettes.

Taglist

@imaginarydreams

#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x child!reader #one piece fluff #one piece imagine #rayleigh x reader #one piece rayleigh #silvers rayleigh #dark king rayleigh #rayleigh x child!reader #rayleigh x child! reader #rayleigh x you #rayleigh x y/n #rayleigh x gn reader #rayleigh x shakky #one piece x gender neutral reader #one piece x gn reader #shakky x gn reader

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heyitschartic · 5 months

Text

I've seen a lot of people complain on tumblr about how Worm fanfic is nothing but altpower Taylors. It's not a complaint without merit, I've been hearing it since 2017. Hell, it's something I complain about a lot too. It's true, the fandom is filled with crappy altpowers that really add nothing. But to an extent, I always feel I should push back a little against it.

Even if I do advocate for just writing your own thing, there's a really good reason so few people do. There are a good amount of Worm fanfics out there that use original characters, niche characters, or do a wild take on the premise. Not a ton, not the majority, but a good amount.

But nobody reads them.

Rank is probably one of the best stories in the fandom. Long, filled with original charscter's, and with an interesting focus on a PRT officer working in San Fransisco. It's got an amazing scope, working from when Leviathan attacked Kyushu all the way to Gold Morning and has so many brilliant setpieces and bits of world building. It's earned its spot as one of the best, if not the best, story in the fandom.

It pulled in a paltry amount of comments and likes over the years it was being posted.

I remember when I first entered the fandom, there were already people warning new writers that, while it would be cooler if you wrote about someone other than Taylor, that you'd be getting a fraction of the views. And it sucks yeah, but it's the truth. I've seen a lot of writers over the years get discouraged because stories they love and put a lot of time into just get ten likes and maybe one comment an update. A good friend of mine will only pre-write her OC stories because the absolute lack of interest is so disheartening its caused her to just give up in the past.

And it's not like people who critique Worm Fanfics for being filled with shitty altpowers even really read this stuff. Say what you will about the Cauldron discord, but it's one of the few places I've seen people push HARD for others to read this niche weird stories, and even then there's pusback or luke warm reception. It's sad to see people talk shit about altpowers, but just not really check anything else out but that in the first place. It's just as bad as if you were only reading them.

Check out stories trying something original! Luz Mala, Rank, Agent of Cauldron, City of Bones and Teeth, Diary of a Professional Knock-off, Fault, Lend Me Your Ears, Mouse Trap, Sunspot, Nightcrawler, Raccoon Knight; and those are just the ones I can name off the top of my head! There are a lot out there waiting for you to find!!!!

And how to fix it? Well, I'm not sure if there is a fix. If anything is going to work though, at least be the change. If you aren't someone whose actively reading and commenting on new fics about OC's or similar, well, what incentive is there for people to write them? Sure, a love of just creating something might push you to post, but if you feels like you're just shouting into a void, it might feel better to just not shout at all.

If you want people to write good stories, give them a reason to actually do it.

#wormblr #worm fanfiction

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lizard-on-a-window-pane · 9 months

Text

Of Lingerie and Sirius Play

coming back from hiatus, have been traveling; will be filling requests but starting with this that was tumbling around my horny head; i'll write sfw stuff soon; enjoyy

pairing: Sirius x reader

word count: 4.8k (smut, smut, and more smut)

tags / warnings: NSFW!! (MDNI!!), established relationship, lingerie, sex, fem! reader, oral (f receiving, face sitting), p in v, slight insecurities, body worship, very explicit but still tender hopefully

You were staring at yourself in the mirror, turning this way and that, second thoughts ebbing and flowing in your mind. You never wore things like this. Never. Sure, you had some bras and knickers that were more flattering than others, some that matched even. But nothing like this.

You were worried that the strip of your thigh just above the stocking garters didn’t look nearly as good as it did on lingerie models. You followed the line of the straps that connected them to the garter belt with your eyes then lightly with your fingers. The belt was more flattering than the thigh-highs, the lace resting on your waste a bit more comfortably than on your thighs. You pulled the back of your bra down for the nth time in the last few minutes, trying and retrying everything you could to make sure the cloth clung to your body in the most flattering way possible. Your boobs had never looked better. You turned around (again) to look at your mostly uncovered arse, the bright colour of the thin line of lace contrasting against your skin. This you were less confident about than you front, but you were probably just being typically overly harsh with yourself.

You wanted to surprise Sirius; no special occasion, you just wanted to do something special for him. He always made you feel so special — in bed and in general — and it gave you the desire (and the confidence) to try something like this.

You’re still fiddling with the outfit when you hear noises in the living room. Sirius is home early.

“Shit,” you startle, looking around the room for something to cover yourself with, debating whether it’d be faster or slower to take it off first. Sure, there wasn’t a specific occasion, but you were still planning to do something more special than just have him find you like this in the middle of the afternoon. Then, to your horror, the noises solidify into… voices. Sirius is home early, and he’s not alone.

You hear his voice growing louder, coming closer: “…’Course, mate. I think I left it in here; let me just grab it, and we can see if — bloody fucking hell…” He’s standing at the bedroom door, eyes wide, mouth agape, its edges already quirking up at the corners a fraction of a second later. Not even shock is enough to keep his delighted smirk from forming automatically. You’re standing there in your new lingerie like a deer in headlights, frozen, your hands too conflicted about which part of yourself to attempt to cover to move to any part at all. Sirius, stock-still, just stares.

“What? Y’alright, Pads?” Now James’s voice is louder, too, and you can tell he’s just on the other side of Sirius.

“Uhh,” Sirius startles, turning rapidly on his heels and pulling the door half closed next to him. “Sorry, Prongsy, change of plans.” You don’t quite make out James’s quick response. “Yeah, mate, I know, but the thing is, I’m about to fuck my girlfriend silly, so that’s going to have to wait because this could take a while.” He sounds so smug already, and in the back of your startled mind, you’re ruing how your surprise for him has him smug and you flustered even from its onset. You hear what sounds like “bloody hell” and something about “bloody rabbits” from the other side of the door, and a moment later, Sirius has turned his attention back on you, the door closed behind him, the flat silent. He’s leaning back on the door, taking you in, looking you shamelessly up and down where you stand planted to the floor shifting your weight nervously. “Hello, sweetheart.” It sounds almost normal. Almost. His voice is a good octave lower than usual. He’s wearing a shit-eating grin too, but that’s pretty normal. “What’s going on here then?” He pushes off the door.

“Hi,” you say, sounding much shyer than you have with Sirius for years. You struggle to hold his gaze, your cheeks burning. “Um. Nothing —” “Nothing?” he challenges immediately. “Really?” a bit more gently, fake considering. He’s stepping achingly slowly toward you. He reaches your spot in the middle of the room and stops in front of you, his eyes roaming your body conspicuously. “Because this…” he begins, and he lifts his hand slowly. Gently, he sticks his finger between your bra strap and your skin then runs it up and down a couple of times. “…doesn’t look like nothing.” He snaps the strap onto your skin. You start a bit at the sensation but still say nothing. You don’t know what to say, and your brain has stopped functioning. You’re completely overwhelmed, and you’re not even sure by which feeling.

Sirius caresses your cheek with the backs of his fingers. When you still don’t say anything after a few moments, his cheeky expression softens subtly, and he asks, “Y’alright, love?” “Yeah, I’m good. I just… You surprised me,” you say quietly. “I surprised you?” he asks incredulously, full cheek restored. “Funny. That’s not how it feels from my side of things.” You giggle awkwardly but warmly. “Did I forget my own birthday or something?” he jokes. You giggle again, most of the awkwardness melting quickly away. Sirius has a way of making that happen. “No, Siri,” you smile. “I just wanted to do something special for you,” you shrug. “Something fun,” you add. “Oh. Darling.” His hand comes to rest on your cheek, and he takes a step closer. “Darling, darling, darling,” he teases, his eyes roaming your body. He takes his time then looks at the mirror behind you. Biting his bottom lip, he huskily whispers, “Do a little spin for me, baby. Show me all of it?” Blushing, you nod shyly and turn all the way around slowly. Sirius groans appreciatively, and his hand instinctively goes to the already prominent bulge in his pants.

“You like it?” you ask him, your voice small. His eyebrows go up in response.

“Baby,” he says, closing the distance between you. “Why’re you all shy?” His hands come up on either side of your face, holding and caressing you. “Is it part of the fun?” he asks cheekily. “Because if it is, I’m game,” he chuckles lowly. “I’ll do whatever you want me to.” His playful expression softens a bit as he continues, “But if you’re actually nervous…” He gently brings his hands from your cheeks to your shoulders then guides you toward the mirror, turning you around, standing close behind you. He rests his chin on your shoulder, and caresses your arms up and down where they rest at your sides. He pecks your cheek then looks back toward the mirror. “Do you like it?”

“I…” You look yourself up and down, biting your bottom lip as you consider. “I think so.”

“Hm,” he hums by your ear then gives it a nip that sends shivers down your spine. He sees your eyes close and smirks at the effect he has on you, but he says, “Open your eyes, baby.” You do. “You, my love, are a fucking sight to behold. I pity the rest of the world for not getting to see you like this, to see what I see. But you do, right? You see how bloody gorgeous you are? So fucking sexy…” His arms come more tightly around you, and he plants a sloppy openmouthed kiss on your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse point, where the vibrations of his chuckle pulse through you. “Sirius…” you whisper, leaning back into him. His wet lips smile against you.

“Let’s play a game,” he suggests, all mischief. You giggle softly, biting your lip and quirking your eyebrow. “What kind of game?” “The kind that’s going to end with you writhing in pleasure on that bed right there.” “Sounds fun…” “Oh, it’ll be fun, sweetheart. So much fun.” He takes a step back from you, and you immediately miss his warmth. You go to turn to him, but he stops you with a gentle hand on your shoulder and a low “uh-uh.” His chin jutting out toward the mirror, he says, “Look at yourself.” You squint suspiciously at him, making him chuckle, but then turn toward the mirror. You meet his eyes through the mirror and raise your eyebrows in challenge, soliciting his instructions. He asks you, “Which part of yourself do you like the most right now?” “Sirius —” you go to protest, but he stops you immediately, talking over you and coming closer again. “Because if I looked as good as you do right now, I’d definitely be turning myself on,” he jokes. You roll your eyes but keep smiling. “So? Which part?”

“Which part do you like?”

“Uh-uh. Not the game. Answer me.”

You glare at him but answer, “… My tits.”

“Mmm. Good choice, gorgeous.” His arms wrapping around you from behind, his hands come up to your breasts. “These glorious tits?” He gropes them roughly, and you moan, your head falling back onto his shoulder. The gentle kiss he gives your hairline contrasts with the forceful kneading of your breasts. “C’mere.”

He drags you unceremoniously toward the bed, sits on its edge, and pulls you onto his lap. Straddling him, you can feel his hardness underneath you. His eyes level with — and glued to — your chest in this position, he says, “Perfect.” You don’t know if he means the position or your chest, but when he abruptly pulls one of the thin cups down and latches on to you, it doesn’t matter. He’s groaning as he sucks harshly on your nipple. When it’s completely pert, he moves his attention to the rest of your breast, biting, sucking, and licking everywhere, before returning his mouth to your hard bud to play with it again. After repeating this a couple times, he loudly pops off and moves his head between your breasts. Squeezing each in his calloused hands, he buries himself in your chest and gives a deep, loud groan. Then, looking up at you from between them, he tells you, “You taste as delicious as you look, you know? And I’m only just getting started.” He licks a stripe between your tits and across your sternum.

He pulls back a tiny bit and just stares at your breasts, licking his lips as his eyes dart back and forth between them. With surprising gentleness, he fixes the crumpled bra cup so that it sits right on your breast again. Your hard, moist nipple is perfectly clear underneath the very thin, almost transparent material. He wraps his lips around it over the material, sucking harshly and running his tongue around and around. He gives it a little bite before leaning back again. “Much better,” he muses at his work. The bra is wet with his saliva, making it even more prominent where your nipple is poking through. He moves to play with your other breast until it looks the same and both are aching and sensitive. You shiver when the cool air hits you. “How do they feel?” he asks, his rough hands kneading them again. “Good,” you respond, raspy.

“How good? I’m glad to keep going.”

You’re not exactly sure what he means but just answer truthfully, “They feel incredible.” “Good. Because they fucking look incredible.” His hands still on them, squeezing, he bites one where it bulges above the cup, and you whimper. His hands then caress your body and move to rest on your arse, squeezing there. “Now. What other part do you like?” You’d already forgotten his game, but play along immediately, eager for his mouth to be back on you. “Umm…” You look down at yourself. You’re not sure if it’s the sitting position or the way Sirius is making you feel, but the garters on your thighs, resting either side of him, look better than they did during your nervous examination.

You’re worrying your bottom lip between your teeth, looking down at yourself but not answering him when he prompts, “Don’t be nervous, doll. There’s no wrong answer; I mean, fuck, just look at you.” He gives your arse a little jiggle.

“My thighs,” you tell him, and his hands squeeze their way down from your arse to your thighs where he kneads them.

“Good girl,” he praises. His fingers trace across the garters’ fabric then he sticks them in and tugs, snapping it back onto your skin. It elicits a little pain but a lot of pleasure, and you grind your hips down onto his. He bucks up into you in response, grinding back, his hands gripping your hips and his hard cock giving your soaked center delicious friction. “Fuck,” he comments, his head rolling back. “Don’t worry, darling, we’ll get to that.” He juts up once more in punctuation. “But first, let me show you how much I love your thighs… show you how right your are to love them too.” He leans in for a lingering kiss then, before his lips have parted from yours, tosses you sideways onto the bed. You laugh together.

You shuffle back on your elbows scooting further up on the bed, but as you try to settle in, Sirius yanks you back down by the ankles.

“Sorry, sweets,” he says, voice syrupy and cheeky. “That’s my spot.”

He tugs his shirt off then crawls over you slowly, kissing and licking all the way up your body as he does, until he settles onto the center of the bed, his head comfortably near the headboard, his hands coming up behind his head. He quirks his eyebrow at you from where he’s lounging, looking you up and down. “You coming?” You make your way onto him, straddling his hips, but you don’t manage to sit back before he’s moving you. His hands are pulling you further up, his own body shuffling down with the same pull.

“What are you doing?” There’s slight panic in your voice, guessing where this is going. Guessing correctly, in fact, as he nonchalantly responds, “Sit on my face.”

You tense and resist his manipulations of your body.

“Siri… I… Why don’t we switch?” With you sitting almost on his chest at this point, he sits up onto his elbows, looking up at you.

“Because. I want you to suffocate me with your thighs.” He bites his bottom lip hungrily as he looks at them, spread across his chest. “And,” he rasps, his hands caressing your knees comfortingly, “Because I think you’ll like it…” You’re worried you’ll actually suffocate him, as ridiculous as it seems, and he knows. “Baby… Hey, look at me.” You do. “I want it, yeah? A lot, actually. And if it’s uncomfortable — for either of us — we’ll just tell each other. Yeah?” His thumbs are rubbing soothing circles on the insides of your knees through the thin fabric of your stockings. “We don’t have to try if you don’t want to.” He means it; you know. “But I think it could be great…”

You are curious, have been for a while. And you trust him completely. So, with your bottom lip nervously between your teeth, and your eyes glued to where your hands are fiddling with each other, you nod.

“Yeah?” he enthuses, giddy. “Yeah,” you whisper. He pushes up so that he’s fully sitting up with you in his lap, and he wraps his arms around you. He kisses you ardently, holding you close. His lips are soft and wet against yours, his tongue hot and firm where it plays with yours.

“Mmm,” he hums, pulling back slightly. Scanning your face, he asks, “Ready?” You nod again, more certain this time. “Brilliant,” he says, with the same look on his face he had as a second-year sneaking into Honeydukes for the first time. He dramatically plops back down onto his back, and he gestures you forward with his index finger. Covering your face with your hands, you groan nervously. You take a deep breath and scoot forward.

“That’s my girl,” he encourages. And when you cage his face between your legs, he adds, “My sexy —” he gives a loving bite to the inside of your thigh, “sexy,” he bites the other one, his face grazing your cunt as he switches between them, “girl.” You grab onto the headboard to help hold yourself up and stable. His hands caress the outsides of your thighs as he keeps nipping at the insides of them. He bites around where the lace circles them and licks at your bikini line. You shiver at the feeling of his tongue on such sensitive skin, so close to your core, and you feel him chuckle there.

“Shut up,” you tell him shyly. You tighten your thighs a bit in playful punishment, and rather than act reprimanded, he barks into full laughter.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to accomplish, love. You’re giving me exactly what I want,” he laughs. He slaps your arse, and you yelp.

“You’re going to make me lose my balance!” You complain. “Good! I want you all over me.” “I am all over you.” “I know. I fucking love it.” His voice is muffled by your body, even more so when he nuzzles into your cunt, chuckling all the while. “This is very pretty,” he says, playing with the thin string of your skimpy knickers. “But it’s in the way.” He pulls it to the side. “And what’s underneath is much, much prettier.” He licks a wet stripe from as far down to as far up as his mouth will reach.

“Fuck, Siri, fuck,” you chant as he does it again and again. You start losing yourself in it, grinding your hips onto his tongue. It’s electric and incredible. And wet.

“Fuck, you’re dripping, darling. You’re not going to suffocate me; you’re going to drown me,” he laughs. You’re mortified. You tense immediately and try to pull off of him, but he pulls you back down with impressive ease. “Baby, baby, baby; wait,” spills quickly out of his glistening mouth. “I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to worry you. It’s great; I’m great; I love it,” he tries to reassure, holding you in place.

“It’s embarrassing,” you say to between your legs.

“Why? Do you think I should be embarrassed that I’m so fucking hard right now? Because of you, by the way.” “No…” “Exactly. It’s hot. And…” He gives you a good lick. “Fucking delicious.”

He sucks on your lower lips, and you moan. He sucks on your clit, and your moan mutates into a full yell.

It’s never felt so good before… And your level of control helps you guide the pressure perfectly… And Sirius seems genuinely thrilled…

You take a deep breath and lift up off of him a bit.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his gorgeous gray eyes flooding with disappointed concern.

“Nothing,” you respond calmly, contemplating him. “Siri…” “Yeah?”

“You like it?” His eyebrows furrow, wondering if this is some kind of trick question given there’s only one obvious answer. He gives it: “I love it.”

“And you’re comfortable?”

“More like ecstatic, but yes.” He’s still squinting confusedly at you, but he’s grinning now. “Okay.”

“Okay…?”

“Yeah, okay,” you give a nervous giggle. “Just tell me if it’s too much.”

“‘Course.”

You start putting your weight back down on him but pull up at the last second and add, “You promise?”

“Yes, baby, I promise. Now get back here.” He pulls you back down, immediately attaching his mouth to you. The pleasure shoots from where you connect through your entire body, and rather than be self-conscious, you follow the impulse and grind down. Sirius groans throatily and double his efforts. You follow his mouth with your hips. Your hands are clenching the headboard, but you allow your weight to mostly rest on him, ignoring your inhibitions and chasing your pleasure.

You build up together, Sirius adept at knowing when to be rhythmically repetitive and when to switch things up, you using your leverage to guide the pace and pressure. Mere minutes later, you’re a moaning mess and Sirius’s groaning is constant and loud. Your legs buckle from the strain and the pleasure, and Sirius tightens his grip on your thighs and hips to hold you up. Sensing your weakening legs and growing pleasure, he picks up his pace abruptly, and equally quickly, you release onto his face with a piercing scream.

Your whole body goes limp, but he does his best to hold you in place as he keeps moving his mouth on you, your shivers still shooting through you, your whimpers still music to his ears.

A long, lingering moment later, you manage to swing one of your legs over and collapse next to him. Your breathing is laboured and loud. Next to you, Sirius looks blissful, looks like he’s the one who just came. The entire bottom half of his face is soaked in you.

“Oh my god,” you observe, smiling, reaching over to wipe some of it off. He snatches your wrist and stops you. “I’m quite proud of this,” he informs you, looking down goofily and licking his lips. He pulls you by your wrist so you’re lying mostly on top of him. “You want a taste?” he jokes, face to face with you, jutting his chin toward you. You giggle and lick his lips. He takes your tongue in his mouth and sucks on it then molds his lips to yours and kisses you deeply. “Told you you were delicious,” he whispers. His hands caress your back; his nose nudges yours. Softly, he asks, “Did you like it, love?”

Sirius is cocky. In bed, Sirius is very cocky. And yet, his questions is genuine. There’s no hint of “I told you so,” only “How was it for you? Are you alright?”

“It was insane, baby. Thank you,” you whisper back. He scoffs lightheartedly.

“Thank you. For trusting me, for letting go.” He pecks your lips. “Fuck, it was so hot when you just let go.” Now you kiss him.

Your lips still lingering against his, you suggestively whisper, “Is the game over?” He chuckles brightly and shakes his head. “What other part do you like?” He kisses you. “Hmmm…” You act contemplative. “Oh, I know what I like.” You bite his bottom lip then release it with a lewd pop. “I know what I like a lot.” “Tell me.” He’s grinning adoringly up at you, but his pupils are completely blown, and his voice is low and raspy.

“Your cock.” You grind down onto him, and his groan is inadvertent and animalistic.

“That’s not how this works,” he jokes, but his voice is as strained as his trousers.

“It is now.” “Okay,” he gives immediately and lunges up to clash your lips together again. You chuckle into his kiss and reach down between you to undo his trousers. He helps you, never breaking the kiss, until his hard cock is free. You grab him and guide him to your still wet entrance, sinking down onto him.

“Holy fuck,” he groans, and his hands bruisingly grip your hips. He lets you control the pace, but you can tell by his grip, his expression, his breathing that it is taking all his self-control. You go fast, and when he bottoms out, his head plops back onto the pillow in tight bliss. “You feel so good. How do you feel so good?” He bucks up into you.

You sit up, putting your hands on his chest, and clench as tightly as you can. Sirius’s eyes roll back in his head, and he whimpers. Slowly, deliciously, you pull your hips up until only his tip remains inside you then slide back down equally steadily. His fingers tense, and he bites his bottom lip hard. You do it again. His eyes squeeze shut. “You don’t want to look at me?” You tease. “After I dressed up for you?”

“Baby…” He meets your eyes then looks at your chest then at where you’re connected. “You’re going to kill me,” he chuckles huskily. “I could cum just by looking at you.” One of his hands comes up to harshly hold your breast. You lift up and down and up and down, quickly and roughly now, your nails digging into his chest. “Mmmphhh, fuuuck,” he gasps. He moves his hand to grip the bit of your bra between your tits, making it move even more as you go up and down. He’s staring, transfixed, at your chest, as he pleads, “Yeah, baby, make ‘em bounce like that, fuck.” You oblige.

You’re enjoying it thoroughly, both the sensations and the teasing, but your legs are already feeling like jelly after your previous activity. You sit still and look down at him.

“Siri…”

“Mm?” he grunts.

His lidded eyes staring straight into yours, you grind your hips and ask him, “Fuck me?”

He sits up like a lightning bolt, more devouring than kissing you, and with a tight grip on your waist, he flips you over. He spreads your thighs roughly and plunges right back into you.

His pace is immediately rough and desperate. You wrap your legs around his waist, your arms around his shoulders, and cling to him as he pounds in and out of you. The headboard starts banging against the wall in rhythm with his thrusts, and the sound muffles your concurrent yelping.

You think he’s going to keep going until he cums, especially given it can’t be long with how hard he’s going, but after a stutter of his hips, you feel him suddenly halt. He’s panting into the crook of your neck, and he bites down onto your shoulder to calm himself for a moment. He pulls back and stares into your eyes. He gives you a quick kiss then moves up, pulling out, till he’s kneeling above you, his naked chest still rising and falling heavily, his mouth open, his eyes black and piercing, his hair a gorgeous mess.

One of his hands grabs his cock, and the other slaps your thigh.

“Turn around,” he demands. You do, and you raise your hips. “Haven’t appreciated this side enough,” he chuckles breathily. He slaps your arse then gently traces the lace first of the belt, then of the garters, and finally of your wrecked knickers. He pulls it aside again and sticks his cock inside you, languidly pushing all the way in.

He’s still. The fronts of his thighs are flush with the backs of yours; his hands are exploring your back, your arse, your thighs. He gives a haughty chuckle.

“Baby,” — he snaps your knickers onto your skin — “you’ve no idea how hot you look. This view is killer.” You wiggle your arse on him, and he laughs his full laugh, squeezing your cheeks in his eager hands. “Keep doing that,” he urges. When you do, he slaps your arse a couple more times. His chuckles turn to groans at a particularly harsh grind from you, and you squeeze your cunt around him to draw it out. “Fuuck.” He snaps his hips. The drag of his cock feels incredible at this angle.

Having started, he doesn’t stop, quickly setting a brutal pace. “‘M not gonna last, love,” he confesses. “‘S too good.” He sounds completely spent, but the movements of his body are as fast and forceful as ever. “Touch yourself,” he urges. “Please cum on my cock, baby,” he pleads, his words more of an exhale by the end.

He thrusts even harder but a bit slower, allowing you to snake your hand under yourself. You immediately start rubbing your clit roughly.

“Fuuu — I’m gonna, fuck, fuck; I can feel you’re right there; you’re right there; that’s it, fuck; cum with me, baby.”

He starts cumming before you can get there, but the feel of it has you immediately releasing with him. Your tightening walls draw out his cum and extend his orgasm. You look behind you, and Sirius is completely blissed out. His hands are on you; his hips are making their best attempt at thrusting, but his mouth hangs open, low whimpers emanating from it. You push your hips back and forth onto him, helping him finish his climax and enjoying the end of yours, and after a few more languid thrusts, you both collapse flat on the bed. Sirius is half on top of you, his chest on your back, his arm snaked around your waist, his mouth playing lazily on your shoulder. He chuckles there.

You turn to him, your faces close, your grins matching.

“So you like the surprise?” you ask.

“I love the surprise,” he responds, equal parts cheek and affection. “And I love you. So fucking much.” He leans in for a quick, adoring kiss. “You? you like it?” He runs his hands over the lingerie softly as he asks. You nod gently but certainly and hum affirmatively. “Good. You’re so beautiful, baby.” He kisses you again. “Wear whatever you want, and you’ll have me pining like a puppy.” You giggle and kiss his nose. “Love you, pup.” He gives his barking laugh. “Love you, too.”

#sirius black #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black smut #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #sirius black x you #sirius x you #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauder x reader #marauders smut #hp #smut #established relationship #lingerie #james potter #sirius black imagine #sirius black oneshot #why do i write 5k words of smut like it's 500

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sprout-fics · 10 months

Note

Ooooh so for Thursday Night Thots: maybe anything where Simon (or Price!) manhandles you a bit after letting you think you’re in control. Like lulling you into complacency and then shit gets a bit real and you kinda love it. 🫠

I definitely don’t write enough for Price so Price it is. Have some sparring with your favorite cap

It’s not often that you ask Price to spar, and it’s less often that he agrees. Most times when you pester him to meet you on the mats he’s too occupied with papers, files, intelligence reports, all of the things that come with being a captain of an off-the-books elite military taskforce. Even when he is free the man is often tired, age and experience and duty bearing down on his shoulders with such weight that he prefers to excise it not on the mats, but on you.

This evening, however, Price seems as if he’s in an oddly good mood. As he wraps his hands at the edge of the sparring area, lit dimly in the late hours while you are both alone, you can see it on his face. There’s a tug to the corner of his mouth that he remains silent on, his eyebrows arched a little high, eye twinkling with something that you think might come close to playfulness. It makes you pause a little, pleased but a little hesitant now to how your practice is about to play out.

Play out it does, because within the first ten minutes Price has you pinned down three times, his superior height and size pressing you down under him as he huffs with a fraction of exertion in your ear. You try and change tactics, try and elude him more than attack- but Price’s response is to only grab you by an ankle and drag you back towards him and force you to surrender once more.

“That’s the third time now, love.” He huffs in your ear with you face down on the mats, his hand planted beside your head, your arms twisted behind you. A knee presses up against the junction between your legs, and with the adrenaline still thrumming through your veins it feels wretchedly close and yet not close enough. Yet before you can consider it Price releases you, and you groan into the mat with a mixture of frustration and concealed need.

“Again.” You tell him after only a few short moments, before you’ve even caught your breath.

Price merely raises an eyebrow at you, and he looks strangely bemused at the fiery stare you offer him.

“Haven’t had enough?” He asks, and you huff, push up off the mat to settle into a stance once more. Your captain merely shrugs, stretches his neck and turns to face you.

When you launch forward this time, you manage to sneak an ankle behind his and disturb his balance, send him down onto one knee. Price manages to block your next attempt at grappling him, seizes a hand and wrenches it sideways. Yet in summoning the focus to do so you manage to pull, and both of you go tumbling down to the ground with one of your legs quickly fastening to Price’s middle and restraining his other arm. Price grunts, twists so he can right himself enough to land on top of you, but you manage to follow the motion and adjust rather than resist his superior strength. There’s a moment of grunted exertions and gritted curses before you land atop him, straddling his stomach and pinning both his hands far above his head.

“Got you.” You heave, sweat beading across your face, chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to suck in oxygen. The weight of you is settled across his hips, and you huff in assured victory as Price gazes up at you from below.

“Mhm.” Price drawls from under you, strangely collected, eyes dancing with amusement. “That’s right, sergeant. You’ve got me.”

It feels strangely patronizing coming from him, a feigned surrender that lacks the true seriousness you’re looking for. It makes confusion muddle your thoughts, but you ignore it in favor of the triumph that bleeds into your weary muscles. A mischievous smile spreads across your expression as that sudden, vexing desire in you rises once more.

You roll your hips down onto him, just once, pressing friction down onto his groin and Price splutters at the abruptness of your bold gesture. His hands tighten into fists above him as he sucks in a breath, and you relish the sudden shock that flits across his eyes at your wordless suggestion.

“Do I get my prize now, cap?” You husk, voice rough with exertion and lust, eyes twinkling with barely hidden eagerness.

Price’s expression changes then, and as you watch his eyes darken and his stare shudder through you, a realization makes your stomach drop downwards, to the place where your pleasure unfolds.

It was too easy.

You realize your mistake far too late, because as the warm triumph of your victory is washed away by the cold realization of dread, Price surges up from under you. You yelp as the world spins through your vision, not having a full moment to try and correct before your back hits the mat under you with such force it leaves you breathless. A shadow falls over your form, hands easily wrenches above your head and leaving you helpless to the weight that settles down over you. There’s a growing hardness that presses into your hip, and the jolt it sends through you is enough to make you suck in a gasp of electrified surprise. When you look up, it’s to Price’s hungry blue-eyed stare gazing down at you rapturously, lips pulled up into something pleased as he asks.

“What was that about a prize, love?”

#captain john price #captain price #captain price x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #gender nuetral reader #thursday night thots #me n who #drabbles

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messylustt · 10 months

Note

ok heres my req!! don't worry sbt how long it takes darling writing is a hobby not a job <33

but i was think if an Ethan fic where maybe its sort of a 'who did this to you' vibe where the reader gets hurt. maybe he goes a lil apeshit who knows 🤷🏼‍♀️ and smut (because ethan smut is delicious and ur writing is scrumptious)

💓💓

pls I need this in my life and thank you, my love ur so sweet <3

✫ ;: .. I’D KILL FOR YOU

ethan landry + fem!reader

18+ smut fingering; mention of abuse :( ; mention of injuries (cigarette burn marks, bruised eye); praise (it’s my thing)

“What?” Ethan’s voice is lower than you’ve ever heard it before.

“But I’m fine.” You console with a small smile. But Ethan’s still moving closer, his gaze locked on your face.

Then his hand is reaching out and lightly brushing the bruise that sits just under your eye. You try not to flinch, but it seems even the softest of touches makes your body twitch.

Ethan’s jaw is clenched, his own mind practically turning red—figuratively—though at this point Ethan’s starting to want to see the colour in a more solid form. Maybe dripping out of your stepdad’s stomach.

You back away from him, shaking your head. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“No you’re fucking not.” Ethan growls, pulling you back to him, making you hiss in pain. Ethan quickly looks down to where his hand is holding your waist. And as he pulls your shirt up—ignoring your protests—he sees littered burn marks across your skin. Raw and cinched with black.

You slightly push him off you. “Ethan, it barely hurts.”

Ethan meets your gaze with disbelief. “How long?” He pulls you back to him, slightly pushing you against a table, as he draws your shirt back up, keeping you still by the pressure of his legs against your own.

“Ethan—“

“How. Long?” He meets your gaze, leaving no room for argument.

You narrow your eyes briefly, before looking away, clenching your jaw. “A few months.” You whisper.

Okay, now Ethan sees red. “A few months?” He reiterates, his teeth almost now visible at how much he snarled the words out. “And you didn’t think to tell anyone? You didn’t think to tell me?”

“What could I say?” You shift your gaze back to him, slightly shifting under his body weight. “That my stepdad beats me when he’s stressed?”

“Yes! Exactly that.” Ethan is breathing hard, as he has the urge to touch your face again.

“No.” You slightly hiss. “Because if I say something, my mum will find out. She can’t find out.”

“Why the hell not? The guys a living piece of shit.” Ethan lowly states, part—no, most of him wanting to get rid of the ‘living’ part. Your stepdad can remain a dead piece of shit for all he cares.

“Because she’s…she’s finally happy.” Your voice has grown quieter.

“Happy?” Ethan still looks in disbelief. “You can’t be serious. She’s happy with him?”

“Yes! She’s finally happy and I really don’t want to see that go.”

Ethan’s hand has moved to grip your shirt a fraction tighter. “How can she be happy with someone who beats—“

“He doesn’t beat her. He doesn’t…he’s never layed a hand on her. He wouldn’t.” You say, gnawing at the inside of your cheek.

“So, just you then?” Ethan asks, eyes still narrowed and practically gleaming with a want to kill. Though you can’t catch this in your worried state. “And you’re fine with that?”

“I’m sure it won’t continue—“

“I don’t give a fuck if you think it’ll continue or not. It’s happened.” He brings your shirt back up, revealing your burn marks. “Cigarettes burnt into your skin.” He grabs the back of your neck, redirecting your head to look at him. “His fist into your…” he tries to take a breath, because he’s slowly loosing it. “Into your face.”

He meets your gaze, tilting your head up, his fingers slightly sinking into your hair. Because he didn’t want to let go. He wouldn’t let go. No. For one, you were certainly not going back home. And two, Ethan needed to keep you close as some form of confirmation that your stepdad wasn’t going to lay a finger on you again. Ethan’s already made a promise to break every single one.

“Ethan, let me go…please.” You say, because he’s still your friend, and you know that he’s just concerned.

But Ethan just shakes his head. “You’re not going back home.”

“I have to—“

“No, y/n.” Ethan pointedly says. “You’re not going back home.” You can feel his heaving chest against your own—Ethan having brought you even closer, careful to avoid the wounds on your side.

“I appreciate your concern and everything…but you were never meant to know. It would have fizzled out and—“

“Stop making up excuses for your situation.” Ethan cuts in, his breath now over your face, making your own hitch a fraction. “Stop acting as though this is fine, just because you want your mum to be happy.”

You hold your breath as Ethan’s hand gently brushes your uninjured cheek. “What about your happiness?”

You gulp, shaking you head—the reason not really clear to you. Ethan just grabs your chin, leaning even closer, so that his breath now tickled your lips, making your entire body heat up. “Listen to me.” His gaze is darting.

“You are not going back home. You are not ever seeing him again.” You go to cut in but Ethan quickly continues. “And I don’t care if he’s good to your mum, because he’s not good to you. No one can treat you like that.”

Now he’s extremely close, making your heart thump, and pound in your ears, each of his words now hitting your open mouth, your lips wet with your own spit. Something Ethan instantly takes note of, as his eyes glance down, a second desire forming. Not just the one for blood, but now for you.

“And y/n, if I see another injury on you…” Ethan’s lips are almost touching yours. “I’ll kill him.” And Ethan meant every ounce of those words. Whether or not you did come back with more injuries Ethan was determined to kill him anyway. But you wouldn’t be ‘coming back’. Because you’d be staying here. With him.

Your eyes keep darting down to his lips, and just as your breathing stutters, Ethan can’t help but lean even closer. Now his lips are just barely brushing yours. Without much thought you lean forward, pressing your lips completely against his.

It’s as if a fire ignites in Ethan’s veins, as his hand at your neck tightens. And once you slightly lean back from your delicate kiss, Ethan’s mouth is swiftly reaching for yours. You slightly gasp at the intense switch.

Your kiss was hesitate and gentle, his now is determined, lust filled, and permanent. He wasn’t going anywhere. Your head knocks slightly back as Ethan laps at your tongue, exploring your mouth, as your head moves with his.

Then he’s lifting you onto the table, making sure your legs spread around him, as he doesn’t give you air, finding your lips a little more addicting than initially expected. “Eth—“

But your words are drowned out by Ethan’s mouth. Then he finally moves down your cheek, and jaw and neck. You’re entirely flushed, as Ethan pulls you even closer to him by your thighs. You can feel him entirely, as his hips slightly move a fraction, earning a small sound to spill from your lips, making Ethan grin against your skin.

“Mm…fuck, y/n…you taste good.” Ethan mutters out, almost unheard by how he just isn’t backing away from your skin. “So fucking good…”

Your head lolls back as your eyes have the urge to roll as Ethan leaves a lot more pleasurable bruises on your skin. “Only I can give you bruises…” he says, licking your neck. “No one else can, no one else can touch you.” He’d muttering anything and everything on his mind.

And then his hand is unzipping your pants, sinking past your panties as he finds your arousal. Your hips slightly jolt. “Shh, don’t move. I don’t want you to do anything. Just lay back for me…” Ethan is moving on top of you as he begins to draw circles over your throbbing clit. Your mouth is open in a pant, as Ethan coos at your expression.

“I knew you’d look good like this—fuck.” He continues to rub your pussy, as pleasure courses through you. “That feel good?” He breathes, and you partially nod, kinda out of it. “Good…, cause that’s all I want you to feel.” He’s now placing kisses by your jaw, as two of his fingers graze your dripping hole.

“Oh god, Ethan…” you whisper out, as you bite your lip. Ethan breathlessly chuckles as he begins to thrust his fingers in and out of you. “You’re gonna stay…right?” Ethan watches you closely as he finger fucks you.

Your nods are quick and mismatched making Ethan’s smile grow along with something else straining in his pants. “Yeah…you’ll stay right here…with me, you’ll be alright, you’ll be safe.” He breathes almost to himself, as he leans down to kiss you, finding your tongue quickly, as his thrusts quicken, feeling you clench around them.

“Are you gonna cum?” He speaks to your lips. “Yeah?…mm, that’s it…cum all over my fingers, I want to taste more of you.” He keeps kissing your swollen lips, as his thrusts pick up to a pace almost ungodly.

“Oh—Ethan—god.” You manage as your hands grip at his shirt, your body twitching with pleasure. And as your orgasm rides through you, your lips finding Ethan’s eagerly, his other hand has begun to soothe just by your burn marks.

“You’re so pretty.” He breathes, finally pulling his fingers out of you, as your eyes shut, savouring the feeling. “Let me help you feel even better…” Ethan kisses your cheek, as you open your eyes. You can hear the click of his belt as you feel your core heat up again.

#the ethan effect #ethan landry #ethan landry oneshot #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #jack champion #jack champion x reader #scream #scream 6 #jack champion x y/n #ethan landry smut #jack champion smut #scream smut #scream vi #scream vi smut #scream 6 smut

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