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lovelyghst · 3 months

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craving consensual somno with (slightly intoxicated) simon riley and his (extremely heavy sleeper) girl. take this as ur warnings.

just him coming home late at night as usual, the bourbon in his system keeping him loosened up and tranquil, yet ever so cognizant as he enters your shared bedroom. those familiar creepy-crawlies invading his stomach with boyish excitement to see you, and quickly turning towards his dick when he lays eyes on your pretty body.

it’s nearly a routine at this point; you purposely fall asleep in these skimpy, two-piece pajamas, usually some sort of small berries, cherries, or flowers adorning the thin, white fabric that leaves little to the imagination, knowing it’ll get him all worked up. the curtains are left pulled and the door cracked open, you kick the covers off and lay with a pillow hugged tightly in your arms beneath you to give him the best view; infinite signs telling him you want it just as bad as he does. it is routine, but it gets so him riled up, each and every time.

he trudges over, as quietly as the tipsy man can manage to the end of your bed, and with tunnel-vision on your exposed thighs. even his jaw fallen slack just a bit in hunger. desperate to get his hands on you after being apart for so long, and wanting to soothe that ache in his cock he hadn’t even realized he was palming through his jeans.

you barely stir when he kneels on the foot of the bed, and neither when he crawls above you and places a kiss right behind your ear.

he presses a cold palm to your shoulder, attempting to urge you onto your back to give him a visual of your features. to let him see your curves in the raw moonlight, how the dainty material of your pajamas becomes a tad bit see-through around your tits and incidentally rides up past your bellybutton, endless thoughts running through his dazed mind as he eventually manages to flip you over successfully.

though, your sleepy hum suddenly alerts him to a standstill, his worst nightmare being to wake you from your serene rest. not now, anyway.

“shhh, sweetheart,” he gently coaxes you, and he can’t help the grin spanning his lips when you mumble the first syllable of his name in that questioning, dreamy tone. he clears fallen hair from your face, slipping his pillow from your grasp as he mutters, “yeah, dovie, s’only me. you’re okay, you’re safe… jus’ go back to sleep for me, now.”

your unconscious mind obeys like clockwork, the smallest of smiles curling your lip corners in contentment, and it’s only a matter of seconds before he’s returning to his endeavors.

kissing all across your exposed collarbone, thoughtlessly slipping a finger or two beneath the strap of your little pajama shirt and carefully allowing it to glide down your shoulder as he repeats the process on the other side. peppering kisses to your soft skin, before rolling the fabric upward from the bottom so he can properly pay attention to the rest of your chest and tummy.

lips grazing your sternum with short, controlled breaths fanning your sensitive parts; aware of how easily ticklish you are and attempting not to light that fuse, equally straining himself in not turning too feverish as he takes your hardened nipple in his mouth and paws at the other in his hand.

he works his way down slowly but surely, until he’s pulling your shorts off with tender hands and unveiling your bare, soaked pussy, and he can’t even think to suppress the low groan pushed from his lungs at the sight in front of him. he inches forward with nearly crossed eyes, taking incisive ministrations in lifting your legs up and over his back.

your breathing hitches a bit in your slumber when he licks an almost reluctant yet long stripe from your hole to your clit, unable to give himself a moment to savor it before he’s diving back in for more.

“missed this pretty, little cunt on my tongue, baby… christ,” he chuckles lightly to himself, “good girl’s gonna be the death o’ me.”

he sloppily makes-out with your pussy, any and all devotions of rhythm and precision thrown far from his intentions. he only gets to be selfish when he has you like this, and he’d be damned if he doesn’t take advantage of the opportunity as it’s laid out on his bed. moaning at your wetness and taste, how your pussy drools for more and coats his chin with a slick he devours like a madman deprived.

the small whines you make in your sleep are nothing but precious to simon, burning them into his brain like any other occasion he’s pulled them from your lips. saving them for the later times like when he’s a thousand miles away, locked away in some office, and can’t possibly bring himself to bother you with a pestering, horny phone call.

you turn your head to the side with a hum, empty hands reaching for any semblance of comfort on your abdomen, which rather concerns him for a moment until he realizes just what you want.

he gives you one of his hands and you blindly accept it, wrapping your smaller fingers around his wrist and thumb to pull the appendage closer. resting just below your ribcage, satisfied and holding it close like you would a teddy bear.

“sweet thing… always loved this perfect pussy,” he mumbles right up against your warmth, quiet as to not disrupt your blissful obliviousness in your sleep. he’s utterly drunk on you and your taste, and the alcohol he had beforehand certainly contributes to his filthy, forward language.

“how easy y’get on my mouth, ‘nd yet how tight you are around my cock… fuckin’ hell—”

he watches intently as the tips of his fingers delve between your folds, gradually disappearing whilst your chest begins to heave a little heavier; a faint, broken noise of pleasure omitting straight from your throat. tightening around his digits as he pushes them further in, just as you do wrapped around his cock when you’re conscious.

he’s not thinking straight; he’s merely experimenting with you as he curls his fingers upward, prodding at that gummy spot in your cunt and greedily sucking on your clit to push you over. toying with you, rather, because the face you make when you’re first emerged from your slumber with a mind-shattering orgasm is truly priceless.

your eyes snap open as you come around his digits, squeezing his hands tight with your vision going blank. the high is strong but you don’t allow it to last very long when the dots in your brain are connecting, turning you all excited for the implications of it all.

erratically catching your breath with a huge grin on your face, matching his as he comes up to greet you. he’s stupid, shamelessly drunk on your taste, and it radiates from his expression as if he just witnessed a star being born right before his muddy eyes.

you haven’t a clue what just happened, but you fucking loved every sober second of it.

and before you know it, he’s coming back up to meet your lips with his own, which you graciously accept, taste of slick and alcohol and all. humming as he slips his greedy hands upward and behind your back, giggling when he impatiently flips over on his back and hauls you with him. til you’re curled up by his side, halfway on his chest whilst one leg slips between both of his bulky ones.

“i‘m glad you’re home…” nearly a pout, “really missed you, si.”

you’re the first one to speak, quietly, sincere as ever as you examine his pretty face. the faint bags beneath his lids, the wetness that sticks to his dirty-blond stubble. his rough and gruff exterior that hides behind it a boy who’s absolutely and utterly whipped for you.

“that right?” he taunts, eyes remaining shut. “and my tongue, i bet?”

you shy away with a laugh. he won’t remember these words in the morning, but you’ve always loved how cocky and brazen he gets with a couple of drinks running through his blood.

“i missed all of you...”

his eyes barely have to open for him to effectively, and lovingly, judge you with a mere glance. it’s one of his talents.

“some parts more than others, clearly.”

“that’s not true,” you contest, but the humorous hesitancy and sheepishness in your voice tells him otherwise.

“sure, baby, sure.” he takes a moment to breathe, overtly proud of himself. “y’missed my mouth, n’ my hands. even with how rough they are with ya sometimes, yeah?” you hide your flushed face in his neck with a groan, praying this embarrassment is short-lived though preparing for the worst as you feel his lips inch closer to your ear.

“prob’ly missed me fuckin’ my cock into that tight, little cunt—”

“okay, fine!” you finally admit and pull away defensively, slapping his chest but only earning a laugh from him. “but i definitely don’t miss that dirty brain of yours, you big dog.”

“you love me anyway,” he states, matter-of-factly.

you give a big smooch to his forehead, then the bridge of his nose, and then down to his lips, which he returns.

“i do. a lot,” you add and he hums, feeling fulfilled.

and, oh, he’s so fulfilled with you. you take care of him by allowing him to take care of you, and it’s a two-way street. you ground each other whilst never forcing one to tether themself to earth.

you sit up to fix your top, smoothing over the fabric and shrugging the straps back into place. shimmying back into your shorts when you catch a glimpse of the large man’s dark jeans contrasting your light sheets, belt buckle glimmering in the corner of your eye.

“simon, honey, you need to change before you—”

you look over and are suddenly forced to stifle a giggle when you discover that the poor man has fallen asleep, a droopy smile still ornamenting his slick-covered face. taking your hand and swiping the apple of his cheek with your thumb, you’re pleased when he doesn’t budge one bit. dragging it downwards past his muscled chest and abdomen, landing just beneath his leather belt.

your fingertips trace his hard-on over the jeans, knowing you can’t just leave him like this, all aching and pent up and too exhausted to do anything about it himself.

maybe you could do him a favor and return the sweet gesture? <3

#i got carried away #cod mw #simon riley #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader #ghost x female reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut

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alpaca-clouds · 6 months

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Why the media CEOs will always learn the wrong lessons

Yesterday a friend and I talked about how the entire (AAA) game industrie looked at BG3 being as popular as it is and going: "Oh, we need to produce 100+ hour games, I guess! Those sell!" Which... obviously is not why it is popular. The game is not popular because it has 100+ hours of gameplay, but because it has engaging characters, that are well-acted and that work as good hooks for the players. Like, let's face it: The reason why I so far have sunken 160 hours into this game is, because I wanna spend time with these characters - and because I wanna give them their happy endings.

But the same has happened too, just a bit earlier this year, right? When Barbie broke the 1 billion and every Hollywood CEO went: "Oh, so the people want movies based on toy franchises! Got it!" To which the internet at large replied: "... How is that the lesson you learned from this?"

Well, let me explain to you, why this is the lesson they learn: It is because the CEOs and the boards of directors at large are not artists or even engaged with the medium they produce. They mostly are economists. And their dry little hearts do not understand stuff more complex than numbers and spread sheets.

That sounds evil, I know, but... It is sadly the truth. When they look at a successful movie/series/game/book/comic, they look at it as a product, not a piece of art or narrative. It is just a product that has very clear metrics.

To them Barbie is not a movie with interesting stylistic choices that stand out from the majority of high budget action blockbusters. It is a toy movie with mildly feminist themes.

Or Oppenheimer is not a movie to them with a strong visual language and good acting direction. No, it is a historical blockbuster.

And this is true for basically every form of media. I mean, books are actually a fairly good example. In my life I do remember the big book fads that happened. When Harry Potter was a success, there was at least a dozen other "magical school" book series being released. When Twilight was a big success there was suddenly an endless number of "teen girl falls in love with bad boy, who is [magical creature]" YA. When the Hunger Games was a success, there were hundreds of "YA dystopia" books. Meanwhile in adult reading, we had the big "next Game of Throne" fad.

Of course, the irony is, that within each of those fads there might have been one or two somewhat successful series - but never even one that came even close to whatever started the fad.

Or with movies, we have seen it, too. When Avengers broke the 1 billion (which up to this point only few movies did) the studios went: "Ooooooh, so we need shared universe film series" - and then all went to try and fail to create their own cinematic universe.

Because the people, who call the shots, are just immensely desinterested in the thing they are selling. They do not really care about the content. All they care about is having a supposedly easy avenue of selling it. Just as they do not care about the consumer. All they care about is that the consumer buys it. Why he buys it... Well, they do not care. They could not care less, in fact.

So, yeah, get ready for a 20 overproduced games with a bloated 100+ hours of empty gameplay, but without the engaging characters. And for like at least 15 more moves based on some toy franchise, that nobody actually cares about.

And then get ready for all the CEOs to do the surprised Pikachu face, when all of that ends up not financially successful.

Really, I read some interviews yesterday from some AAA-studio CEOs and their blatant shock and missing understanding on why BG3 works for so many people.

Because, yeah... capitalism does not appreciate art. Capitalism does not understand art. It only understands spread sheets.

#baldurs gate 3 #oppenheimer #barbie #barbie movie #hollywood #game industry #media #indie media #media criticism #anti capitalism #late stage capitalism

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lex-the-flex · 5 months

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coriolanus snow being jelly/ needy and demanding attention,,

been obsessed with him lately tehe <3

“You’re staring again, Coryo.” You announce through your focused state.

"Sorry, Y/N. Can't help it." He says, tossing his pen on the table.

Closing your notebook, you let out a sigh, rubbing your face in mere frustration. Leaning back in your chair, the study room’s ticking clock provides a low level profile for getting work done. But in this case, you were far more than ready to give up.

“It’s not fair! Why must our professors give us an essay and two projects to work on? Do they think we’re robots?!” Arachne questions, throwing her history book on the table.

Turning to face Coriolanus, you widely opened your eyes, hoping he shared the same annoyance at Arachne’s endless complaining. Thankfully he did. Offering you a small smile, you turned back to the study group.

“Because we’re preparing for the 10th Hunger Games. We need to know the importance of the games.” Clemensia replies.

“Besides, we’re all going to be mentors next year. So this is vital for the University. They accept any students who wish to be mentors.” Sejanus adds, leaning onto the table.

“Okay, Mr. Plinth Prize. Please spare us of your wisdom and can we please go get dinner before the mess hall closes?” Arachne asks, standing from her chair.

“Yes please! I’m starving.” Clemensia responds, grabbing her bag.

Standing from your spot at the table, you notice that everyone has practically bolted out the door: except for Coriolanus.

“You okay, Y/N?” He asks, grabbing his bag.

“Yeah, just exhausted, that’s all. I feel like I’m reaching my limit, Coryo.” You respond.

Following Coriolanus to the mess hall, you were so deep into your conversation that you stopped paying attention to the stairs. Upon reaching the second to last bottom step, the sole of your shoe got caught, and you started to fall forward towards the carpeted floor.

Unable to stop yourself, Coriolanus jumped in and leaped forward. Swiftly catching you in his arms, you couldn’t help but yelp at the action.

“Are you alright? What happened?” He asked.

“I’m alright. I think I just slipped.” You reply.

Glancing up at Coriolanus, his worried face and scrunched brows made your stomach turn with excitement. His icy blue eyes were forever locked onto your own e/c orbs and his once neat blonde curls were now draped over his forehead.

Keeping his arms gently around your forearms, the echoing ambiance of the mess hall seemed to fade, until Arachne interrupted.

“Oh what do we have here? Some new lovebirds in our midst no doubt.” She teases.

“Leave them alone.” Sejanus called out.

Finally letting go of Coriolanus, the two of you fixed your uniforms and promptly headed to get dinner. Waiting in line for your food, you couldn’t help but feel Coriolanus’ grip on your shoulders. As your heartbeat slowly started to return to normal, you refused to let Arachne’s constant jokes get in your head.

After all, you had better things to worry about.

Returning to the study room, Coriolanus offered to carry your meal, so once he opened his paper bag, you rested your hand on top of his to make sure he didn’t let go.

“There. Thanks, Coryo.” You replied.

Briefly pulling your hand away, Coriolanus wouldn’t let you. He wanted to keep you here, with his hand in yours. But he hesitantly let go, as he knew that the study session was almost over.

Finishing your meals, you let Clemensia proofread your essay, to which she found was brilliant. After a while, you noticed that Coriolanus slowly moved closer to you. And after a few minutes of concentrated silence, his fingers began to brush along the trim of your jacket. Facing him, he promptly motioned toward his pile of notes.

“Can you explain this to me, Y/N? I don’t know what this line means.” He asked.

Leaning closer, you ended up sitting on the edge of your chair. Offering his hand on the small of your back, Coriolanus gave you his full attention as you started to explain the poem to him.

#thanks anon!#thank you lovely anon #thanks for the request!#Coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x y/n #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow fanfic #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow fic #Coriolanus snow request #tom blyth #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes

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writers-potion · 12 days

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Could you give any advice for "descriptive" writing of any scene or action scenes or mapping out the scenery (Mountains, forests, streets etc) - i believe this is a struggle for Non-English speaking writers due to lack of vast vocabulary.

Common Scenery Description Tips

Vocabulary is clearly an important part of description, but it doesn’t have to be a limit. The most important thing about description in fiction is picking the right details to mention:

How does the details add to the mood of the story? A mountain ridge will be dark, gray and foggy if the overall mood is meant to be mysterious/brooding. In contrast, a mountain can be brilliantly snow-capped, lush green and “smiling down” upon the character if they’re out for a light stroll.

How are the contrasts/complementary aspects being brought out?

Are you using the five senses? You can even combine the senses, ie. blue ringing of the church bells

(If you have the POV character) what

Some other tips for setting description:

Use similes and metaphors. Creative figures of speech always get my attention as a reader.

Mention story-specific elements. For example, “The sky was the shade of Zoes’ eyes” or “the mountains looked like a group of trolls sleeping on one another”

Be concise. Today’s readers don’t want to read paragraphs and paragraphs about one landscape. Outline the larger elements in the scene, their location and general mood. Add some details, then move on.

If the same location appears multiple times, differentiate the description little by little as you write, instead of trying to lay out one scene in too much detail at once.

That said, here are some helpful words/phrases:

Forests/Mountains

Color: bone-white, phantom-white, hazy gray

Sound: rumbling, booming grumbling, bellowing clapping, trundling, growling, thundering

Shape: crinkled, crumpled, knotted, grizzled, rumpled, wrinkled, craggy, jagged, gnarled, rugose

Action: sky-punching/stabbing/piercing/spearing, heaven-touching/kissing, snow-cloaked/hooded/wreathed/festooned

Sloping sides, sharp/rounded ridges, high point/peak/summit

Majestic, gargantuan humbling, vast, massive, titanic, towering, monumental, mighty, vast, humbling

Mountains having faces, etc.

Seas

Color: blue-green, crystal-clear crystalline, emerald, frothy, hazy, glistening, pristine, turquoise

Size: boundless, abyssal, fathomless, unconquerable, vast, wondrous

Sound: billowing, blustering, bombastic

Action: boisterous, agitated, angry, biting, breaking, brazen. Churning, bubbling, changing, brooding, calm, convulsing, enticing erratic, fierce, tempestuous, turbulent, undulating

Alluring, blissful, betwitching, breezy, captivating, chaotic, chilly, elemental, disorienting

Deserts

Sight: A landscape of sand, flat, harsh sunlight, cacti, tumbleweeds, dust devils, cracked land, crumbing rock, sandstone, canyons, wind-worn rock formations, tracks, dead grasses, vibrant desert blooms (after rainfall), flash flooding, dry creek

Sounds: Wind (whistling, howling, piping, tearing, weaving, winding, gusting), birds cawing, flapping, squawking, the fluttering shift of feasting birds, screeching eagles, the sound of one’s own steps, heavy silence, baying wild dogs

Smell: Arid air, dust, one’s own sweat and body odor, dry baked earth, carrion

Touch: Torrid heat, sweat, cutting wind, cracked lips, freezing cold (night) hard packed ground, rocks, gritty sand, shivering, swiping away dirt and sweat, pain from split lips and dehydration, numbness in legs, heat/pain from sun stroke, clothes…

Taste: Grit, dust, dry mouth & tongue, warm flat canteen water, copper taste in mouth, bitter taste of insects for eating, stringy wild game (hares, rats) the tough saltiness of hardtack, biscuits or jerky, an insatiable thirst or hunger

Streets

Dusty, fume-filled, foul, sumptuous, broad, bucolic, decayed, mournful, seemingly endless, empty, unpaved, lifeless, dreadfully genteel, muddy, nondescript, residential/retail

Bleach, flimsy, silent, narrow, crooked, furrowed, smoggy, commonplace, tumbledown, treeless, shady

The blacktop streets absorb the spring sunshine as if intent upon sending heaven's warmth back through my soles.

The streets absorbed the emotions in the air, the city as the steady and reassuring mother.

The streets were a marriage of sounds, from bicycle wheels to chattering.

In the refreshing light of early daytime, the streets had the hues of artistic dreamtime, soft yet bold pastels.

Cobbled streets flowed as happy rivers in sunlight.

Parties

Some extra tips for locations like parties, where lots of action is going around practically everywhere:

Focus on the important characters - where they are, who they’re with.

Provide some overall description of the structure of the party scene (a pool, a two-storey house with yard?), then move on to details.

Don’t try to describe everything.

whirlwind of laughter and music, a symphony of joyous chaos.

It was a gathering that shimmered with the glow of twinkling lights and echoed with the rhythm of dancing feet.

The air was alive with excitement, buzzing with conversations and the clink of glasses.

Every corner held a story waiting to unfold, a moment waiting to be captured in memory.

It was a tapestry of colors, a mosaic of faces, each adding their own brushstroke to the vibrant canvas of the night.

Laughter cascaded like a waterfall, infectious and unstoppable, filling the room with warmth.

The night was a carnival of senses, with aromas of delicious food mingling with the melodies that filled the air.

Time seemed to slip away in the whirl of the party, moments blending into each other like colors on a palette.

The energy of the crowd was electric, pulsing through the room like a heartbeat, binding everyone in a shared moment of celebration.

It was a celebration of life, where worries faded into the background, and the present moment was all that mattered.

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moon7jay · 4 months

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MINORS DNI

The way I think of sunghoon is that he's not an inherently a high libido person, like in his single phase he doesn't care much about hooking up, jerks off here and there but is not obsessed with it, doesn't get turned on easily, doesn't indulge in sexual stuff often.

But all of this will change once he's in a relationship. It's like u were the stimulation that his dick needed cuz why's it always hard when he's in your vicinity??? He doesn't understand it himself. And when u do have sex once, he can't stop himself from doing it frequently, every week turns to every night turns to 2 times a day like his desire becomes endless. Everytime you're close he wants to be skin to skin with u in some way

Its like an exclusive obsession with sex. He's a sex addict, but only for u. only your shy touches and coy smiles can make blood rush instantly to his cock, throbbing hard and heavy in his trousers, fingers twitching with an intense urge to dig into your tempting flesh, tongue coming out to lick on his lower lip cuz ur lips look so tantalizing it's driving him mad with hunger

So don't be surprised when he's pounding u into the sheets literally every chance he gets. Sheets don't even matter he's pressing u to the nearest surface and sliding his dick into your addicting pussy, pussy so tight and juicy he can't get enough of it's warmth.

He's also so vocal with u, whether it be eating u out or making out or nasty fucking, u will find him moaning and groaning like a dog in heat. When he's inside of you, he's overcome with carnal lust that just doesn't end. Sometimes u will be pushing him away cuz u can't take it anymore, trying to run away from his hard thrusts but his hands will instantly wrap around your mid section, keeping you in place while he relieves his lust inside your warm fuck hole

"Stop trying to run away from this baby - he pants on your face, his fingers bruising your waist with how tight he's holding your squirming and overstimulated body so that he can continually fuck into u - this is your fault anyway ughh fuck, you're the reason I'm- jesus -you're the reason I'm like this"

#enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen smut #enhypen hard headcanons #enhypen hard hours #enhypen #park sunghoon #enha #sunghoon smut #sunghoon hard thoughts

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joonberriess · 5 months

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⊹₊ ⋆ “i just been fantasizin', and we got a lotta time, baby, come throw the pipe, gotta know what it's like,”

TAGS — vaginal sex, unprotected sex, pussy eating, light degradation, slight dirty talk, jk’s possessive here, oc’s a cute bean, daddy kinks, some nipple play, public sex, unrealistic sex to me bc how tf did no one see???, pimp!jk, stripper!oc, oc needs to know, WAP WAP WAP, this is for my birthday babes, praise kink(?), happy birthday @hyunjinswifeee this is late sorry :((

WORD COUNT — 3.3 k

Wanna know what it's like, baby, show me what it's like, I don't really got no type, I just wanna fuck all night,

The crowd becomes completely immersed in your smooth hip gyrations and body rolls, they holler and catcall while endless money falls at your feet. Tonight’s a special night, you figured why not spend it at work getting money rained on you. All you really had to do was dance because your oh so lovely boss prohibited you from being requested by the club patrons.

Speaking of your boss, he too was in the crowd just right above you in his private balcony. He was watching with those dark onyx eyes of his, filled with desire and hunger. Each time you looked up he was staring right back down. Jungkook looked so fucking good sprawled out like that over the velvet couch with one hand nursing a glass of whiskey, his hair wild and unkept. Just the display of dominance and power had you weak in the knees.

You bit your bottom lip and slowly ran your hands down your body before reaching back to grip the pole tightly and slowly walking around it. You wanted him to know that you were very much on the same page. The cheers from everyone spurred you on as you spun high on the pole with your head thrown back, the screams grew louder and the crowd wilder as they fought each other to get a better view.

I just been fantasizin', and we got a lotta time, baby, come throw the pipe, gotta know what it's like,

You hold your breath and slowly slide down as your eyes flicker back up to Jungkook who is now standing leaned over the balcony. He stares at you through half-lidded eyes, tongue poking the inside of his cheek and a lit cigar sitting in his hand. You decide to kick it up a notch. Just a tiny bit.

The lights suddenly go out and your shadow is illuminated by fuschia pink LED lights all around you. No one can see a thing but your silhouette as you reach behind you to unclip your bra. The club goers lose it as you dangle the item teasingly in the air before tossing it into the crowd wishing it was Jungkook you were throwing it at.

“More, more, more,” they chant as you move sensually. Luckily another bouncer comes to hand you another bra top to put on just before the lights around you snap back on.

You're exciting, boy, come find me, your eyes told me, "Girl, come ride me" fuck that feeling both us fighting, could he try me? Mmm, most likely,

You mouth along to the song while staring right at Jungkook, a tiny smile adorning your lips as you spin around once more on the pole. You don’t look over for the rest of the dance because you’re too nervous to face the outcome. This was the first time you’ve pulled a move other than looking at him and giving Jungkook “fuck me” eyes.

When the show ends you’re pulled to the side by a squealing Soyeon and a giggling Soojin. “Did you not fucking see the look he gave you when you did that?!” Soyeon gasps, “He literally looked so fuckin’ pissed—in a good way though—like he did that thing he does with his tongue and cheek and then he pulled one of his guys to the side!”

“He wants you for real.” Soojin smirks as she pokes your side, “Looks like the birthday girl is gonna get some dick tonight.” She coos in your ear while cupping your tits in her hands, “So what’s your plan, hmm?” She lays her chin over your shoulder, Soyeon nods too and waits for your response.

You contemplate for a second but quickly make up your mind, “I think you guys already know,” you lean back into Soojin with a playful little smile, “who wouldn’t?”

“True,” Soyeon nods, “but you have to tell us the details okay? You gotta tell me if that thing he’s carrying is like nine inches or something.” She looks pretty serious and you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your throat as you reply ‘then why don’t you find out?’ She gives you an almost offended look, “Girl that’s your man first of all, secondly I got my own.” She winks.

The three of you chat a little more until Namjoon, one of Jungkook’s closest bodyguards, comes through the door searching the room. When he makes eye contact with you he strides over with a friendly demeanor, “y/n, right?” He tilts his head a little to the side, “Jungkook’s asking for you, said if you could meet him up in the balcony?”

You nod in a heartbeat, “I’m just gonna clean up a little, ‘m a little sweaty ‘n stuff.” You softly reply as Soojin gets to quickly re-touching your makeup. He nods understandingly and murmurs a low “Come up when you’re ready.” After he leaves, Soojin and Soyeon slowly turn to you with little smirks on their faces and brushes in their hands.

When you reach the balcony you come across Jungkook sprawled out on the sofa with both arms stretched out. He looks a hot mess with the way his tie is hazardously tossed to the side and his white button-up sits messily undone over his chest. “Seems like we’ve finally met.” He hums.

“Hello Mr Jeon,” you softly greet like the polite little thing you are. Your eyes flicker down to the gold cross hanging over his chest, not missing the way his eyes flashed when you said ‘Mr Jeon’. It’s nerve wracking looking into his eyes because Jungkook always held eye-contact and you hated how he made you cower in delight, “I thought I wasn’t allowed to be requested by patrons.”

Jungkook chuckles quietly and brings the cigar up to his lips taking a long drag from it, “Oh? And does that include me too sweetheart?” A pleasant little shiver runs down your spine when the pet name rolls off his tongue so smoothly. You find yourself craving for more.

“I don’t know,” you softly say while inching closer, you come to a stop in front of him, “does my boss consider himself to be included..?” You teasingly run your finger over his shoulder and slowly lower yourself on his thigh, “Does he?” Jungkook’s nostrils flare as he blows the smoke to the side, dropping the cigar on to the ashtray below.

“You wanna give me a dance, is that it sweetheart?” Jungkook drawls out lazily. His eyes inch downwards as he admires the pretty little “outfit” you got on. It reminds him of the little show you put on out there.

Your breath hitches when he grabs the hanging garter string between two fingers and twirls it around in his hold. “...is a dance what you want?” You reply breathily.

Jungkook lays his hand flat on your thigh and strokes over it slowly, idly rubbing his hand up and down over the soft skin. “You offering me more sweetheart?” He licks his lips, “You gonna be a good girl and put on a show like out there—give me a private show just for little ol’ me?” He leans closer to you with his hot breath fanning over your chin and lips.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head, “ ‘s not fair.”

He grins and noses along your jawline towards your slender neck, “Not fair? How so sweet girl?” He whispers as his thumb rubs soothing circles on your inner thigh, “Hm?” He blows in your ear causing goosebumps to form all over your body.

You tilt your head to look at him, “Because, it’s my birthday.” Your eyes drop down to his lips as you unconsciously lick your own, “Aren’t you gonna wish me happy birthday?” You whisper.

“Oh yeah?” Jungkook looks up at you in amusement as he leans closer, “Happy birthday sweetheart.”

Jungkook gently slips his lips against yours, barely moving as he inched his hand upward between your thighs. You’re so lost in the taste of him as you let your thighs fall open invitingly, and your hands came up to rest over his shoulders. Jungkook grunts under his breath, he moves his lips sensually over yours causing wet smacking noises to fill the space between you two. You softly whine as your lips become glossy and kissed raw from Jungkook’s little bites and harsh kisses.

“Why don’t you lay back, hm? Gonna show you what birthday girls get from me,” he presses a chaste kiss to your neck as he slowly guides you on your back, “there you go, just like that baby—yea..spread ‘em for me.” He watches you in pure delight over how well you’re following his instructions.

You stare up at him with a dazed look, “Do you give every birthday girl this?” You purse your lips in annoyance just thinking about all the other girls who have probably been under him like this.

Jungkook toys with the strap of your bra, “No, just ones that like to tease me on stage.” He smirks as he hooks his finger under the middle of the bra, he tugs it downward until both tits spill out from the cups, “Will you look at that..” He murmurs appreciatively when he sees your pretty pebbled nipples, “I wonder if you’re pretty everywhere else too.”

Your lips part to say something but Jungkook leans down to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. You sigh quietly and enjoy the feeling of his wet hot tongue circling and licking over your nipple. He moves his other hand to your other tit and gently wraps his hand around the doughy flesh. Jungkook pulls away and leaves a small trail of spit over your hard nub, as he rolls and kneads your tit in his other hand.

A surprised little “oh!” escapes your lips when he dives down to suck on the other nipple. “Mm–wait,” you throw your head back when his other hand dips low between your thighs, pressing two fingers over your drenched pussy. He teases your clit through your panties as he presses the soaked material against your slicked up cunt.

He hums to himself and pulls away to trail kisses down the middle of your body. His other hand slides down your side until he’s resting it against your hip where the waistband of your panties sits. “Been dreaming bout this day n night sweetheart, you don’t even know how fuckin’ crazy you drive me.” He hooks two fingers under the waistband, “You make it so hard for a man sometimes, you got me fiending like a dog for you.” He growls.

You look down at him and slip your hands over his, “Then make me yours,” you breathily whisper, “ ‘s all yours,” you dreamily smile while hooking your thighs over his shoulders.

Jungkook all but tears your panties off with a loud riiip. He leaves open mouthed kisses trailing down until his mouth’s hovering over your pussy, he wastes no time in letting his tongue dip between your folds. He laps at your messy folds and lays his tongue flat against your clit as he flicks it back and forth teasingly. You quickly become a whimpering mess under him.

He uses his grip to bring your cunt closer to his face, his hands slip under your ass cheeks and he grips both cheeks in his palms. Your eyes flutter shut as you slip your hands into his hair, you wonder if anyone was watching right now. The balcony itself had a thick siding but the thought of them watching Jungkook and you sent delicious little tremors down your spine. “Mm–like that,” you whisper softly while lifting your hips more for him.

It feels like he’s making out with your pussy with the way he’s licking and sucking at your chubby folds, taking a lip into his mouth as he sucks on it teasingly before dipping back in to tease your clit. A choked up moan escapes when his tongue slips lower and pokes at your winking hole, “Please, please,” you tearfully whine, “want more.”

Jungkook leaves a gentle little smooch on your pussy before he goes back to business. His hot tongue slips right into you pushing past your tight rim. Your lips fall open in a small ‘o’ as you shudder, he’s flicking his tongue upwards against your g-spot repeatedly. You scramble to get a hold of him with your fingers tightening in his hair.

“Mmm,” you push his head against you and sigh when his nose accidentally bumps into your clit, “...daddy—” You cry out when the pleasure gets too much and you curl into yourself from the sensitivity.

Jungkook freezes under you, he pulls away and climbs over you with your legs falling from his shoulders. “What did you say?” His eyes narrow, they’re dark with hunger and lust. You look up at him through bleary eyes and giggle instead of answering. Jungkook wraps his hand around your throat, relishing in the moan that bubbles out of your throat, “Oh you like that don’t you baby?” He chuckles breathily, “Go on then, tell me what you just said now.” He squeezes gently and runs his thumb over your lips, it’s nothing too drastic but it serves as a reminder.

Your tongue darts out to run over your upper lip seductively, “Would you rather I called you sir? Or Mr Jeon?” You breathily giggle, “Does it turn you on laying me out here in the open for everyone to see?” You whisper as your lips wrap around his thumb, you suck with a low lewd moan.

Jungkook cusses under his breath, “Fuckin’ hell.. Nothing but a straight demon, look at you, jesus.” He bites his lip and pops his wet thumb out of your mouth, “They can look all they want but this pussy’s mine,” he cups your cunt with his free hand, “daddy’s gonna have you all dolled up with a little collar so people know who you belong to.” He smirks.

You mewl at the thought of him putting you in a collar as you eagerly paw at his slacks, “Please daddy,” you slur out, “ ‘m so wet for you. Aren’t you gonna be nice and give me what I want? Or do I have to find someone to do the job for you?” You grin deviously.

Jungkook’s cock is out within seconds after hearing that, he slaps the wet tip over your clit in soft taps. He listens to the wet squelching your cunt makes, it’s like music to his ears hearing how soaked you are. You let your legs slip open wider as he crowds you while slipping his cock between your folds. The tip catches on to your hole and prods at you, “Please,” you whine softly, “wan’ it in,” you buck your hips so more of his cock pops into you.

“Shit, relax for me baby.” He sighs as he slips his cock inch for inch slowly. His cock fits snug in your tight little cunt, you struggle a bit to house the rest of his cock inside of you but eventually he bottoms out with a small smack. “There you go,” he moans in bliss, “doin’ so good for me.”

You shudder at the praise and stare up at him with puppy eyes, “Don’t want it soft and nice daddy—want it fast n hard.” You hook your arms around his shoulders and bring him down for a sweet gentle peck, “You’ll give me what I want, right daddy?” You bat your lashes at him.

Jungkook groans shakily, “Fuck yes—I’ll give you everything you want baby.” He pumps his cock in and out of you, “Gonna have you dripping in diamonds.” He gasps as his hips roll forward with each time being a little more rougher than the last.

His movements cause you to lightly bounce in place under him, you can only moan and whimper as he drives his cock in and out of you. Your pussy hugs his cock tight when backstrokes making it a bit hard to fuck into you. He shoves his hand between the two of you and presses down on your clit with his thumb causing a loud cry to escape your lips.

“Harder..!” You rasp out and throw your head back. Jungkook wastes no time in diving in to bury his face between your shoulder and neck, leaving a mess of hickeys and love bites in his wake.

“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he gasps, “ ‘s like this slutty little pussy was made for me.” He fucks into your rougher and makes sure to press in deep each time he bottoms out.

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream, you dig your nails into his shoulder and curl your legs around his waist tightly. “S-So good,” you gasp. His fat cock fills you up just nicely and rubs up against every sensitive spot inside your cunt. You can feel every throb and vein on his cock as he fucks away mindlessly.

Jungkook tilts his face to messily slot his lips against your own, he slams his hips upwards rather harshly. Each punishing thrust leaves you shaking and mewling for more, you weakly hold on to him for dear life and try not loosen your grip on him. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth and bites teasingly as a low whine escapes your lips.

“Fuck, you like that don’t you baby? Got myself a little painslut don’t I?” He purrs low while circling his hips and letting you feel every inch of his cock.

You hiss softly and hide your face in the soft cushioning of the couch, you’ve long blocked out the music in favor of focusing on two things: Jungkook and the wet noises your cunt made. You could feel dollops of slick run down your taint and between your ass cheeks. His cock was drenched in your wetness, everytime he pushed back in a loud squelch was followed shortly after.

“You gonna be a good girl and cum on this cock baby? Gonna make it nice n messy for me?” He huskily whispers, “C’mon baby, answer me.” He lightly slaps your cheek forcing you to look at him.

“Y-Yes,” you softly gasp, back arching when he strikes your g-spot repeatedly.

“Yes what?” He licks his lips.

“Yes daddy.” You whimper out. Jungkook captures your lips in a heated kiss and then proceeds to slam his cock in and out of your battered pussy.

You hug him tightly while messily kissing back as his cock slips in and out of your gaping cunt. He pulls out to the very tip before slamming back in and repeating the process over and over. Loud wet smacks are heard but you’re too cock drunk to see (or care) if anyone is looking. Before you even realize it, your cunt squeezes tightly around him and you cum with a loud cry. Your pussy absolutely gushes around him.

Jungkook groans low in his throat, he comes to a halt and simply grinds his cock into you. He feels more slick coat his cock until he’s covered in slick. He throbs at the sight of your trembling thighs and presses his cock in, letting his creamy cum fill your pussy up. You both slump into each other, he pants heavily and just lays there with his body covering your own.

“Got all night baby,” he murmurs in your ear while kissing the side of your head, “why don’t we get a little more comfortable in my bed, yeah?” He whispers.

You turn to press your lips to his, “Mmhm,” you pull away as a string of spit follows, “gonna give you a REAL show daddy.” You softly say.

Jungkook chuckles quietly, “I’m sure you are.”

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#bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut

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yandere-daydreams · 6 months

Text

Title: Monster Mania.

Pairing: Yandere!Vampire!Neuvillette x Reader x Yandere!Werewolf!Wriothesley (Genshin).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Oral Sex, Mentions of Blood, Non-Human Anatomy, Possessive Behavior, Prolonged Imprprisoment, and Slight Dehumanization.

“Pouting won’t get you out of this.”

“I’m not—” You paused, gritting your teeth as his shoulder pressed uncomfortably into your stomach. In retribution, you did your best to drive your knee into his chest, to let him know he was hurting you without admitting that you were even more fragile than he’d assumed, but if he cared about your attempts at resistance, if he so much as noticed that you’d moved at all, Wriothesley didn’t waver. “I’m not pouting, I’m trying to get away from my fucking stalker and his—” Another fit of thrashing. This time, Wriothesley was kind enough to tighten his hold on your legs. “—fucking dog. Why is that so hard for you two to get that through your heads?”

He hummed, drumming his fingers against your thigh. “Might be how often call us… what was it, again? A stalker and a dog?”

You scowled, crossing your arms. From your current position, slung over his shoulder, the remnants of one of his rope snares still wrapped around your left ankle, you could only see the thin footpath he was following and the dense forest that laid beyond it. The tree canopy was too thick to let you see the sky (something you mourned and Neuvillette adored, considering his fondness for early evening walks), but rays of golden sunlight still managed to pierce the endless sprawl of branches and leaves, marking the first signs of dusk. Neuvillette had still been asleep when you slipped through the door Wriothesley had forgotten to lock when he left for his daily hunting trip, but he’d be waking up soon; you could already imagine him rising from his canopied bed, picture the diluted shock he’d wear as he stepped into your bedroom for his first meal of the night only to find it empty. You weren’t surprised Wriothesley was so eager to get you home. Neuvillette was stoic at the worst of times, but the thought of letting his pet blood-bag get away was one of the few things that could get a reaction out of him.

Not that Wriothesley was much better. He was more level-headed, sure, more likely to let you wear something aside from ivory nightgowns and untangle you from Neuvillette’s arms when his hunger left him in a blood-thirsty daze, but that never stopped him from taking Neuvillette’s side when you found yourself in another petty argument, from standing in the doorway with a smile and a dreamy look in his eyes as Neuvillette fastened a lace collar around your neck, a collar just a touch too small to cover the twin puncture marks at the base of your throat and just a touch too similar to the steel choker that sat at the base of Wriothesley’s throat more often than not. He might’ve been human, something as mortal and as delicate as you were, but he was still a monster. He’d be crushed under Neuvillette’s heel a thousand times before he ever considered showing you mercy.

The shadow of their mansion was coming into view, now – the lonely building just as dark and just as intimidating as it’d been the first time Wriothesley lured inside. It stretched on as far as the eye could see in either direction and towered above you like some awful, looming thing; thick curtains constantly drawn over its many windows and every surface of its exterior constantly covered in a thick layer of creeping ivy. The rotting boards of the front porch groaned under his weight as he approached the front door, and you braced yourself as he cursed under his breath, patting down the pockets of his heavy flannel. You weren’t sure why they bothered keeping the door locked at all – aside from what it took to keep you trapped inside, at least. Neuvillette was the most dangerous thing for the next hundred miles, and Wriothesley was a close second.

The inside of the mansion was just as ominous; any light from the outside world captured and suffocated before it could penetrate Neuvillette’s endless abyss. You squirmed, hoping Wriothesley would at least let you cross the threshold on your own, but he wasn’t so kind, only responding to your silent plea with a playful squeeze to your calf as he made his way past the entryway and down an unlit hall, passing several torn paintings and overturned tables before finally shrugging open the door to Neuvillette’s study. A bottle of red wine sat open and half-drained on his mahogany desk, a small fire smoldering in the stone hearth he only rarely used. Neuvillette sat beside it, dressed in a simple black robe, his eyes blearily focused on the low-burning flames. He looked concerned, but his apprehension faded as Wriothesley carried you into his line of sigh, disappearing completely as you were hauled off of Wriothesley’s shoulder and dropped into Neuvillette’s lap. One of his hands found its way to your waist, its twin cupping your cheek, tilting your head back and allowing him to press a lingering kiss into the top of your head. “Beloved,” he muttered, practically breathing out his pet name for you before turning to Wriothesley. “Thank you, duke. I’m sorry you’ve had to inconvenience yourself for the sake of what should be my responsibility again.”

With a groan, Wriothesley fell onto the foot of the fireplace, shrugging off his coat. Where Neuvillette chose to hide his bloodlust behind a thick veil of unwavering niceties and delicate elegance, Wriothesley leaned into his brutality; broad muscle straining at the confines of his black undershirt, scruff cropping up faster than he could clear it away, his hair an untamable mess of black and grey and his clothes caked in an ever constant layer of mud and wear (save for his metal choker, of course, which was always polished to conspicuous shine). His eyes lit up when he heard Neuvillette ask after him, posture straightening like that of a soldier called to attention. You’d been too generous when you called him a dog. He was a mutt, too mindlessly obedient to ever question his master’s orders. “How many centuries has it been since you’ve had a reason to call me that?”

“It should be four this year.” Another kiss, this one to the corner of your jaw. You could feel the points of his fangs, still tucked behind his lips but no less dangerous for their momentary concealment. “Don’t you have something to say to him, as well?”

It took a moment to register he was talking to you, another to recognize the hypocrisy of what he was asking you. Your pressed frown fell into an open-mouthed balk. “Absolutely not.” And then, when Neuvillette held strong, “You can’t expect me to thank him for keeping me trapped here—”

“Silence.” He didn’t raise his voice, didn’t bear his fangs or dig his pointed nails into your thigh – he didn’t have to. All it took was that tone. Assertive, but not quite forceful. Lulling, but no softer than the wood and stone of his hellish mansion. Immediately, you shut your mouth. Neuvillette closed his eyes, letting out a raspy sigh before taking you by the hips and turning you in his lap, so that you faced outward rather than into his chest. That was enough to earn Wriothesley’s full attention, perking up as you were perched on the edge of Neuvillette’s lap. “Why don’t we try that again. Do you have anything to say to Wriothesley?”

You glared pointedly at the floor. “Thank you. For bringing me back?”

“And?”

“And...” This was the part you hated the most. If there’d been an alternative – a dungeon they could’ve thrown you into, a brand they could sear into your skin – you would’ve embraced it with open arms. But, that was the worst part about dealing with an captor. He had all the time in the world to make you bask in your own humiliation, and he never seemed to tire of the pasttime. “And, thank you for making sure I didn’t get hurt in the forest.”

As if there was anything out there that could’ve hurt you more than they did. Still, it seemed to appease Neuvillette, who let out an approving hum as he turned to Wriothesley. “What do you think? Be honest, this time. No lesson was ever taught with a gentle hand.”

He took a long moment to look over you, another to wet his lips. Wordlessly, dependent on the pure desperation in your eyes, you begged him not to listen to Neuvillette, to take your side just this once, but your improvised attempts at telepathic communication proved unsuccessful. “It could’ve been more genuine,” he admitted, with a slight shrug. “Didn’t have much nice to say on the way back, either.”

“Is that so?” His fingertips drummed against your side. “Why don’t you join us?”

Wriothesley didn’t hesitate, practically stumbling over himself as he crawled to Neuvillette’s feet. He came to rest on his knees, hand braced against the rug between his thighs and his cheek only a hair’s width from Neuvillette’s leg, as if waiting for permission to press against him. He always looked at his most relaxed there, on the floor, patiently waiting for an order from his master. It was hard to tell whether it was a skill learned through time, or if subservience was just in his nature.

His obedience was rewarded with a breathy chuckle, a hand run through his unruly hair. Wriothesley was more lax with himself than he usually was, letting his eyes fall shut as he melted into Neuvillette’s touch. “Since your tongue is so uncooperative today,” Neuvillette started, leaning forward just far enough to rest his chin on your shoulder. “How do you think you can show our dear helper how grateful you are?”

A bolt of cold dread shot down your spine. You moved to stand, to get away, but Neuvillette’s arm wrapped tight around your midriff, keeping you pinned against him despite your resistance. “Neuvi’,” you mumbled, squirming against him. “Please, Neuvi’, I don’t want to—”

“Now you’re going to play nice?” His hand fell to your knee, drawing your legs apart. Wriothesley filled the space before you could clench them shut again, his mouth immediately latching onto the inside of your thigh, his dull teeth burying themselves in the plush of your exposed skin. You cursed under your breath, trying to shake him off, but he held tight, fists curling around your ankles to keep you spread and exposed as Neuvillette watched on, his grin pressing into the crook of your throat. “That’s a little cruel, beloved. Can’t you see how excited he is?”

You could. There was a glassy sheen over his half-lidded eyes, a hunch to his posture that meant he was too distracted with you to care about how he held himself. You’d slipped out in a rush, eager to get as far as you could before Neuvillette woke up. In your haste, you hadn’t bothered to change out of the simple, silken frock you were wearing; a choice you only came to regret as Neuvillette dragged the tattered hem to your waist, as Wriothesley’s attention drifted from your thighs to your panties, the lacey fabric torn away with little more than a curl of his fingers and a throaty growl. That, more than anything, caught you off-guard. It wasn’t a threat, but it was more hostile than anything he’d ever directed towards you before. It wasn’t a sound someone like him, someone like you, should’ve been capable of making.

Neuvillette must’ve felt the way you stiffened against him. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss into the curve of your throat, just a touch too close to the vein he preferred to drink from, then another into the dip of your shoulder. “Surely, you must’ve noticed how scarce Wriothesley makes himself around this time of the month.” He paused, laughing airily. “He’d already be safely locked away in the cellar, if you hadn’t made him run out and fetch you. I suppose it must’ve slipped his mind while he was looking for you.”

“I don’t—” A tongue, broader than it should’ve been, hotter than it should’ve been, ran over your slit. “But, he’s supposed to be—”

“Human?” You refused to look at him, refused to acknowledge what he was doing to you, but you could feel his teeth ghosting over your skin, their usually dull tips beginning to sharpen into something more pointed, more animalistic. His tongue slipped into your entrance, thick enough to stretch you open with little more than its curling tip, and Neuvillette’s focus fell to your clit, left neglected by Wriothesley’s unwavering concentration on lapping up as much of your (humiliatingly, quickly accumulating) slick as he could. His thumb toyed with the sensitive bundle of nerves as he went on. “He is rather young, as far as immortal beings are concerned. He made an adorable puppy, back when creatures of the night were free to roam as they pleased, but he’s matured since his days of village razing and cattle slaughtering. I think you’ll find he’s learned how to keep his fangs to himself.” Wriothesley nipped gently at the junction of your thigh. You winced and Neuvillette added, “More or less.”

You could only bring yourself to half-listen to what he was saying. Wriothesley was growing more wild by the second, his formerly languid movements now hasty and agitated, little groans and growls joining the wet, disgusting sounds quickly filling the study. You felt claws that hadn’t been there a moment ago dig into your ankles, his already impressive build taking on bulk that would’ve been possible for anything natural, anything human. It wasn’t enough to just look away, anymore – you shut your eyes completely, bowing your head and curling into yourself as Wriothesley ate you out like a man— no, not a man, a beast starved. The cool marble of Neuvillette’s chest was almost a comfort when compared to the raw heat of Wriothesley’s mouth. It might’ve been more soothing, had he not been taking so much joy in your suffering.

“He’s always been prone to getting carried away. I used to have to fetch him at dawn – he could never seem to make it home before the moon set and he was left bare and unconscious in the vineyard of some poor nobleman.” He pulled back, letting Wriothesley’s cold nose grind against your clit in his place. You weren’t free from his touch for very long, though. The array of ribbons that kept the bodice of your frock drawn tight were undone, the neckline loosened and allowed to fall to your shoulders. “I’ve always preferred a more direct approach. The occasional drunkard taken off the street and drained was always enough to keep me sated.” He paused, cupped the curves of your chest. “Until I came across you, of course.”

You felt his fangs scrape over your neck, but he didn’t have time to bite down before you lurched forward, the sporadic movements of Wriothesley’s tongue bringing you to a sudden, unsteady climax. It was abrupt enough, violent enough to make tears swell in the corners of your eyes, to steal a ragged gasp from your lungs despite your attempts to swallow back any pathetic sound your weak-willed body might’ve wanted to make. For the first time, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at him, letting your gaze fall onto the black-furred, oversized thing between your legs. He was unrecognizable, black fur and a wolf-like muzzle swallowing any familiar trait you might’ve latched onto. Pointed ears laid flat against his scalp, a grey-tipped tail brushed over the floor lazily behind him as he moved to keep going, to milk every last drop out of you, but Neuvillette reached down and took him by the metal collar now pressing flush against his throat. There was a low, drawn-out whine as he was dragged up and away from your pussy, but Neuvillette’s cruelty was limited to you.

“We spent hours talking about what to do with you, when he first brought you home.” He spoke absent-mindedly, muttering against your throat as he guided Wriothesley onto his knees. Even at only a fraction of his full height, he was tall enough to loom over you, to replace your limited world with a towering shadow of black fur and white teeth. He was panting, his chin glistening with slick and drool, what was left of his tattered clothes torn away in a few aggerated swipes of his claws. You’d been wrong, again – not every part of him was unfamiliar. His eyes were still there, the grey clouded and his pupils blown out but still undeniably his. Still fixed entirely on you.

“I thought he should turn you as soon as possible, but he protested, claimed the transformation would be too much for you.” He bowed his head, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “Between you and I, there might be a chance he’s hoping I’ll give in first. He does his best to hide it, but he tends to sulk whenever I choose to feed from you. I think he’s hoping we might both have to rely on him.”

Clawed hands curled around the arms of his chair, the wood creaking under Wriothesley’s weight. For the first time, you let your eyes drift lower, let yourself take in the massive, pulsing cock standing erect against his lower stomach. It looked too big; like a prop, made to only vaguely resemble the real thing. It looked like it could tear you in half.

“Then again, he might’ve grown fond of the idea of adding another wolf to his pack,” Neuvillette added, as you went limp against him. “We’ll have to see how human you feel when the sun rises.”

It was an awkward position, Wriothesley too tall and Neuvillette too unyielding. He kept one arm wrapped tightly around your midriff as his other hand drifted into the limited space between your body and Wriothesley’s, his pale hand curling around Wriothesley’s thick shaft and carefully lining it up with your dripping cunt. Wriothesley bucked into the stimulation, his body lurching forward and his head nuzzling into the dip of your shoulder. You felt his breath, warm and humid, fan over your chest, then the rough reverberation of his voice against your skin. “Mate.” It was more of a groan than anything, one long breath that seemed to escape from some unseen vault. It was his voice, but there was something underneath it, too – something more guttural than you would ever want on top of you. “Mine.”

“Ours,” Neuvillette corrected, tightening his hold and drawing you close. You couldn’t see him, but you could feel it, pressing against your throat as his fangs reclaimed lost territory. “Our precious, misguided little pet.”

Wriothesley thrust into you as Neuvillette drove his teeth into your skin, both men piercing you simultaneously. Too stunned to scream, you could only silently wonder who would end you first.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oneshots #yandere genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #yandere wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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cl-01-kestis · 1 year

Text

Blood and Honey - Tom Riddle x Female Reader | nsfw

Summary: Your rivalry with Tom Riddle was widely known around Hogwarts, there’s no one you hate more than him. But through the mist of rage and competition, Tom finds himself tempted by a very odd scenario.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, public sex, blood kink, injury description, fingering, cunnilingus, Tom has a borderline fetish for blood consumption, (both of you are 18)

(Part 2 taglist)

If there was one single person, only one, who you could hate the rest of your brief existence, it would be Tom Riddle.

Your reasoning was endless, every interaction was poison. He made no attempt of hiding the fact he hated you either, yet neither of you tried to resolve it.

For 6 years, Tom had been the one person who always got under your skin. He had a habit of teasing your skill, even though it was near the best in each class you sat. You scored 80% and above in each exam you sat, yet he still managed to pluck out the detailed faulty of your knowledge. He was always better than you, he always had to be better than you. He made sure of it.

Sometimes you thought he was better just to grind your gears, all that studying he put in was possibly to aggravate you. You knew it gave him the mightiest pleasure to see you suffer at his hands, he would have it no other way.

Potions class today was no different. You brewed one of the most advanced potions and handed in your thesis to your professor, minding your own business and going your own way. But your chest tightened and your hands turned into fists when you heard his voice nearby, laughing wickedly with his friends who stood by the corridors. You held your books close to your chest, avoiding any eye contact with the group of brash boys.

Tom spotted you but he didn’t say anything, instead he glared at you with a sharp smirk on his pale face. Your eyes found him, but you wish they didn’t. Your jaw clenched and your eyes narrowed, your pace unconsciously speeding up.

He watched you with a malicious glint in his eyes, chuckling quietly to himself as you looked away and rushed off, your cloak floating softly behind you. His friends words became a hazy murmur, his mind drifting from their conversation to thoughts of you and your pitiful demeanour. He found himself pondering your flushed face and pretty frown, knowing he caused it the majority of the time.

Tom shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way to the library, hopeful to squeeze in some studying before dinner time. He wondered if you would be there, but his soft expression moulded into a scowl when he realised how intrusive his thoughts became about you. He licked his lips and entered the library, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

You sat silently in the medical ward, eyes full of tears and your hands shaking from pain. You were outside the school grounds for a while with the creatures of the school greenhouses, needing to clear your head, the next minute you were tripping over a flowerpot and cutting your thigh deeply with large gravel. The head healer spent an hour plucking bits of rock from your wound, giving you supplements of pain relief to get you through the process.

Now you sat in bed with your wound open, she claimed it needed to be aired so it healed quicker with the medicine she gave you. But you were still in pain and still somewhat bleeding.

You missed dinner, to your sadness, but the healers made sure to give you some snacks and chocolate frogs to appease the hunger you felt. But you missed the roast dinner and sweet pudding you received every night, your stomach craved it.

You laid back against the soft bed, keeping your injured leg bent so it didn’t rub against the sheets or your other leg. You held a charms book in your hands, shakily flipping the page as you continued reading in the quiet of the ward. You heard the distant footsteps of the head healer, her voice whispering to other students since other patients were sleeping. You tried to block out the noise and continued reading.

Until the door to the ward opened, and in walked none other than Tom Riddle. Immediately, you hid your face in your book and sneakily grabbed the cover a few feet away, tugging it towards you to hide yourself more. You weren’t in a mood to bang heads with him, or even interact with him. The fact he was even in the same room as you made you want to chuck your charms book at him.

He was visiting Avery, you heard him ask one of the healers where he was and she hastily lead him to his bed, which was right beside yours. You cursed Merlin, grateful for the cover blocking his vision from you. Especially because your skirt was hiked up and your tights were off, your bare skin showing. You sat up in your bed, careful not to make any noise possible as you pulled up the covers and laid them over your legs. You weren’t about to be humiliated by your bully, you might as well fling yourself off the astronomy tower.

You heard the both of them bicker, but none of their words registered in your head. Tom was irritated at something, you didn’t really care. Hearing him annoyed made you smirk behind your book, knowing you never heard it often. Tom was a secluded man, he never showed an ounce of anger or irritation towards you when you insulted and constantly one upped each other. He was stone cold, but sometimes he cracked.

You heard Tom scoff at something Avery had said, but you quickly zoned out and found yourself slipping into unconsciousness, too tired to care. One of the healers came over to your bedside and buffed the pillows for you, wishing you a goodnight and making sure you were comfortable before returning to her nightly duties. This caught Tom’s attention, soon he found himself peeking around the cover shielding you. His eyes widened and he missed what Avery had said, completely focused on your sleeping state and the charms book in your hands.

“Hey, did you even listen to what I just said?” Avery frowned, fussing over his broken finger which was healed without hassle over an hour ago. He was taking up the bed when he didn’t need to, and Tom was here to drag him out. But now Tom was dwindling on the thought of why you were here, if you were hurt or recovering from an injury. He found himself lingering on you with concern, but his attention begrudgingly turned back to Avery after he continued to whine.

“Abraxus is waiting for you in the common room, don’t make him wait any longer than necessary” Tom instructed with narrow eyes, similar to a snakes.

“Aren’t you coming?” Avery raised a brow, cradling his bandaged finger.

“No, I have other matters to attend to” Tom dismissed Avery, who nodded his head and made his way to the infirmary exit.

Tom waited for Avery to leave until turning his attention back to you. You were still sleeping, the covers hiked up to your waist as you slept. Tom pulled up a chair and sat down at the corner of your bed, taking the charms book from your hands to inspect it curiously. This caused you to shuffle and peek one eye open, dread filling your heart as you realised who sat at the end of your bed.

“Hey, give that back!” You sat up, trying to snatch the book back from toms hands, but the Slytherin smirked and leaned back in his seat.

“Not until you tell me why you’re here. Let me guess, you were clumsy as always and had an accident?” He cackled, a shit eating grin on his charming face as he put his arm up while still holding your book. You were unable to reach it now.

You sat back in your bed, crossing your arms and scowling at him as he placed the book back down into his lap and opened the pages.

“I don’t have time for your shit, Tom, and for the record I am not clumsy” You frowned deeply, moving your foot to kick him square in the knee, causing another laugh to escape his pale lips.

“You obviously are, you always have been” He shot back. “I bet you broke your leg, or maybe you sprained your ankle?” He continued to toy with you until your face was red with embarrassment.

“I cut my leg okay? Just leave me alone” You looked away, suddenly finding the bedside table very interesting. Toms grin didn’t disappear, but he was curious about how your leg looked.

“That’s it? Just a small cut?”

“It’s not small, the nurse spent an hour taking out rocks and little bits of gravel from my leg” You sit up, peeking under the covers and noticing you bled on the sheets. Cursing, you lifted up the covers a tiny bit, revealing the top of your thighs to Tom who quickly fell silent and looked down at your charms book. He didn’t like you, but he wasn’t a pervert. He wanted to at least respect your privacy.

You brought your legs out from the bed, grabbing bandages from the side of your bed and unravelling them to wrap around your leg. Tom watched quietly, noticing the trickle of blood trailing down your shin after you placed your feet on the ground.

“You’re bleeding” He stated.

“Yeah I can see that, idiot” You sneered, wiping the blood with your hands instinctively and cursing as you smeared the blood further. Tom rolled his eyes and stood up, dragging his seat with him as he quickly summoned a pack of towels with his wand. You fell silent as he sat in front of you, sighing loudly as he placed the towels down on the dresser and looked down at your bleeding leg.

His eyes widened almost immediately, a pang of shock flooding his system as he watched the crimson liquid seep from your deep wound. He didn’t expect it to be this bad, the blood was all over your hands and smeared over your thighs.

“You’ve made a mess” He grumbled, grabbing the towels and grabbing your ankle so he could set it on his leg. You shoved him off and glared at him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Your voice was wary, not matching the angry glare seeping into his skin. You sounded confused, not hostile.

“I’m trying to help you” He snapped back.

“But why? I didn’t ask for your help-“

“Just shut up and give me your leg” Tom raised his voice, his eyes flickering up to yours as a warning. Your jaw snapped shut, bottom lip poking out just a bit further as you gave in and raised your leg. Tom muttered a ‘stupid girl’ and pressed the towel to your leg. You looked away and screwed your eyes shut, hissing at the stinging pain as he delicately dabbed the towel onto your wound.

“Stay still, you’re moving too much” He muttered in frustration, his grip on your ankle intensifying as he turned the towel around to catch more blood. You looked down at your hands, just as you were about to wipe them on your skirt he stopped you.

“Are you stupid? Here, let me” He grabbed your hands, his touch oddly soft yet commanding. Toms hand pressed against yours, the blood transferring onto his skin and causing his fingers to get sticky. His motions slowed, his eyes stuck on your clasped hands as the blood seeped through the cracks of his fingerprint. His eyes darkened, his throat suddenly dry and his stomach tense.

Your blood was on his hands, he realised. You started to get anxious at his silence and stillness, ready to ask what was wrong. But the boy simply stared and turned your hand over, his thumb caressing your palm. Tom gulped, his tongue poking out to wet his lips as he let go of your hand and inspected his own bloodied one. Your blood started to dry on his skin, the smell of iron filling his senses. His mouth watered.

“Is everything okay?” You asked worriedly, leaning forward to your knees were touching. Tom nodded his head, his hands starting to tremble as he looked away from the blood and into your eyes. He swallowed again, his hand creeping back to hold your one as his eyes trailed to your lips. The feeling of blood between your palms was a strange sensation, you felt like you needed to wash your hands, but Toms skin felt like a dream against your own.

“Are you about to kiss me?” You whisper with a heavy breath, your heart beating erratically fast.

“If that’s what you want?” His voice sounded so soft, so vulnerable all of a sudden as his bloody hand cupped your cheek, his thumb skimming the skin of your cheek.

Without hesitation, you nodded, and Tom gently pulled you close and pressed his lips against yours. They were softer than you imagined, because admittedly, you thought of kissing him before. All that pent up frustration made you think of him differently overtime, no matter how much you hated him. You can’t deny you’ve pictured yourself in this situation many times.

Tom was so delicate with you as his other hand pressed against your unharmed leg, pulling you onto his lap as he leaned back into his chair. You straddled his waist, your lips departing momentarily as your breaths mingled together, right before he pulled you back in and kissed you fiercely. He cradled your body against his, bringing one of your hands up to his face before pulling away.

Tom took one of your bloody fingers into his mouth, licking the crimson substance off your skin which shot a shrill of excitement up your spine. Toms mouth was so hot and inviting, his tongue eager. You couldn’t help but whimper quietly as he bit one of your fingers, jutting his hips up into yours as you cupped his face with your free hand, getting blood on his jaw.

You kissed once again, his tongue entering your mouth, carrying the strong taste of iron. You tasted your blood before realising you were being pushed back onto the bed. Tom looked down at your thigh which was still wet with fresh blood and his eyes glistened with excitement, he crouched down so he was face to face with your uplifted skirt and revealed panties, but he didn’t look to them at the moment.

Toms tongue caught the stains of blood from your wound and lapped it up like a man deprived from water. Your hand flew to his hair, gripping it as you gasped at his surprising ministrations. Tom didn’t go near your wound in fear of infecting it, but he didn’t shy off the blood surrounding it.

“Oh Merlin… Tom, please” You cry silently, arching your back. Tom glanced up to your panties, noticing the obvious wet patch which grew bigger as time went on. He smirked against your skin, raising his arms and hooking his fingers underneath each hem of your panties.

The both of you were aware you were in a public area, so Tom quickly grabbed another cover from the ward beside you and shielded the both of you from anyone who might’ve come in at the wrong time. You sighed out in relief before Tom was back on you, his attention now on your skirt and underwear. He resumed removing your small garments that, really, left nothing to the imagination.

“Do you want me to continue?” He looked up at you with a soft gaze, noticing the nervous hints of your expression. You nodded your head eagerly, raising your hips so he could pull off your panties easier. Tom smiled and kissed you passionately as he put your underwear in his pocket, his hands slipping under your skirt and gripping your bare hips. You tried your best to keep quiet underneath him, but he was making it near impossible.

“How much do you need me?” Tom asked, trailing his lips down your neck and whispering against your pulse. You closed your eyes, using his shoulders as support as he grazed your tummy with his slender fingers.

“More than I can admit” You flush, leaning your head back to give him further access to your neck. Tom smirked against your skin and unzipped your skirt, pulling it off in one quick motion.

“You’re too full of pride to admit how much you crave me, I know you’ve thought about it, you’ve been anticipating this moment” He laid between your legs, his elbows stopping his body from fully leaning on you.

“I’ve been wanting this too, in class I’ve found myself picturing you bent over a desk, screaming my name” His hand found your exposed pussy, causing you to let out a choked moan. You felt like your skin was on fire, feeling too hot underneath your shirt and tie.

“Touch me, please” You gasp, Tom quickly covered your mouth with his free hand and leaned back so he sat back on his knees, positioning you so your head was against the pillow.

“We can’t be too loud now, darling, you need to stay quiet for me, okay?” He soothed your whines, kissing your forehead before focusing his attention below. His eyes shadowed over with desire, a smug smirk tugging at his lips.

His thumb pressed against your clit, massaging small circles against it which caused your legs to tense up. You closed your eyes and struggled against his hand, holding onto his wrist as he brought his other hand up and lathered it with spit. He inserted his finger inside you slowly, careful not to hurt you or make you uncomfortable as he leaned down and kissed your neck. You used your free hands to undo your tie and unbutton your shirt, exposing your bra to Tom’s greedy eyes. He made a pathway of bites and kisses down to your breasts, all whilst thrusting his finger inside of you. You watched as a loose curl dropped in front of his eyes, making a fairly disheveled appearance. He watched as he inserted a second finger, enamoured with the way you stretched.

You tilted your hips up and hummed against his palm, throwing your head back slightly when he started to curl those two fingers. You grabbed the wrist once more, your grip tight but not enough to distract Tom from his goal. He directed his fingers towards that special spongy place inside you, causing you to nearly curl up into a ball if it weren’t for him keeping your legs apart.

“You’re soaking for me, fuck” He cursed lowly, picking up his speed which made your eyes roll to the back of your head. You trembled against the mattress, cunt squeezing around his skilled fingers as he kept punching your g-spot.

You tapped his hand, signalling to take it off your mouth. Tom quickly removed his hand, pushing a few strands stuck to your sweaty skin away from your face. He noticed your puffy lips and glazed eyes, smiling fondly as he watched your expression contort with pleasure.

“Oh god” You whisper, reaching up to grab his shoulder.

“Say my name” He pleaded as quietly as he could, his thumb returning to your clit and circling it softly which caused another adoring reaction from you. Your grip tightened against the material of his prefect blazer, but Tom didn’t care about the crinkles you caused. He leaned down and pressed his body against yours, your mouth was just beside his ear.

“Tom- please… I need you so bad” You sobbed, voice muffled by his shoulder. Tom cradled your head as his fingers worked harder on your pussy, leading up to an almost life changing orgasm. You felt your body tense, goosebumps scattering quickly as you started to climb your high. Tom peppered kisses over your flushed cheeks and forehead, down to your jaw where he sucked a dark love bite, marking you as his.

“You gonna cum, darling? Do it, do it for me” Tom mumbled, his voice verging on a whine as he watched you unravel. You squeezed your eyes shut, body freezing completely as the feeling of sharp, hot white pleasure ripped through you. It was more than difficult trying to keep quiet, tears trailed down your temples as you suppressed a scream. Tom kept curling his fingers into you to help you ride out your orgasm, feeling a sense of pride as he watched you twist and turn with unbearable pleasure.

Your breaths were ragged, you sounded like you’d been through 10 rounds of Quidditch with no breaks. Your legs shook at either side of Riddle as he gently removed his fingers from you, coated with your slick honey. He placed his fingers in his mouth and hummed, his tongue licking up the goodness of your climax. You felt yourself become aroused once more just by watching him taste your cum, you needed him all over again.

But to both of your devastation, the infirmary doors opened and a couple of healers walked in with new patients, thankfully going to the opposite side of the ward and away from you and Tom. The Slytherin pressed a wet finger to his lips, smirking as he lifted up your skirt and bent down.

You held back the combination of a giggle and a moan as he went down for a full taste, his lips kissing your inner thighs and right above your clit.

The two of you heard the nurses converse about treatments and diagnostics, all whilst Tom slipped his tongue inside you and held both of your legs over his shoulders. You had to keep your eyes open, alert in case either of the nurses came and checked on you at the wrong time. But Tom was distracting you terribly, to the point you quivered and kept looking down at his mop of dark curly hair between your legs.

He was just as skilled with his tongue as he was with his fingers, which caused difficulty when it came to keeping silent. You threw your head back against the pillow, your fingers lacing with his hand and giving it a gentle tug as he devoured you. Tom groaned against you, hands on your hips and guiding you easier to his eager mouth.

You wanted to cry, everything felt so good. Too good. You couldn’t remember how you got here, but by Merlin you never wanted it to stop.

You already felt your second orgasm approaching, the muscles in your body tensing once more as another tear left your eye. Tom was relentless, cruel with the flicks of his tongue as he glanced up at you struggling to keep your composure.

The peak of your climax creeped up on you suddenly, making you grab the pillow underneath your head and use it as a muffler as you let out a pained groan, thankfully not loud enough for the nurses to hear. Tom suckled your clit as you fell off that beautiful drop in your stomach, hips stuttering against his jaw as he held them down and continued lapping at your arousal. You cried, eyes shut and teeth clamping on the pillow as you used every cell in your body not to scream.

Tom pulled back when he felt he was satisfied enough with your orgasm, using his fingers to catch the sticky substance near his mouth that he couldn’t quite reach with his tongue. You kept your face hidden under the pillow for a while, still too fucked from the wonderful feeling between your legs. Tom carefully slid himself away from your legs, planting soft kisses on each one before clambering off the bed and back into his own seat, right beside your head.

“Darling?” His voice was quiet, eyes glancing down at you with slight concern. He wondered if he went too far, if you couldn’t handle the torment he gave. But he saw your sly smile immediately after you removed the pillow from your red face, eyes glazed over with pure satisfaction as you looked up at him.

“You should’ve done this far before now” You chuckled softly, your hands still grasping the pillow tightly. Tom leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, brushing the hair off your face once more and finding himself enamoured by the sight in front of him.

For the first time, a moment of peace dispersed between you two. There was no bickering, no insults, no battling it out until the other proved them self to be better. There was blissful, adoring peace. Tom placed his hand over your one, noticing it was still shaking from earlier.

“How are you feeling? Do you need any water? Any sugar?” He asked, his eyes tracing the shape of your face whilst his thumb brushed the skin of your knuckles. Your smile grew wider, nodding your head as you gestured to the glass of water on your bedside table. Tom helped you sit up, buffing your pillows and handing the glass of water over to you. He pulled the covers over your bare legs, protecting whatever modesty you had left as he contained doting over your hair. You didn’t want to know how bad you looked right now, but you felt very spoiled with Tom’s attentive nature.

“I feel bad” You whispered.

“How come?” The Slytherin prefect asked curiously.

“You didn’t get to finish” You frown, looking at the obvious tent in his pants as he let out a brief scoff.

“Don’t think about it too much, you can repay me when you feel better” He winked, causing you to roll your eyes.

Tom made sure you looked presentable for the nurses before leaving, and it just so happened he timed it perfectly.

The head healer peeked through one of the covers shielding your privacy, asking if it was okay to come in after noticing Tom’s presence. The both of you nodded and Tom seemed to get the hint when she showed you a thick pack of bandages and more medicine.

“I think it’s best that you go back to your dorm, Mr Riddle, don’t want to be out past curfew now” The healer smiled fondly at the two of you, sensing something was going on but minding her business nonetheless.

“Of course, my apologies if I’ve outstayed my welcome” Tom stood up, but not before giving your knuckles a sweet kiss before making his way out. He bowed to the healer, then you. He wished the both of you a goodnight before vanishing into the shadows outside the covers. You immediately felt lonely without him, but the nurse seemed to dissipate your sudden separation anxiety. She sat down in the seat Tom did and asked for your leg.

“He’s a good boy that one, dear” The nurse grinned, sterilising your abrasion before wrapping it in bandages.

“Yeah… he certainly is” You chuckled.

#x reader #tom riddle x you #tom riddle x reader #harry potter smut #tom riddle smut #Harry potter x reader

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dixons-sunshine · 10 days

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Holding On To You | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary: Despite not being too keen on PDA, Daryl craved comfort too. He got that comfort by holding your hand in his. It wasn't always that simple, though. He had to work his way up to being comfortable with that. Luckily, you were a patient person.

Or, three different scenarios in where the archer shows progress in his comfort with you.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre-prison (on the road); pre-Alexandria; Alexandria, pre Saviour arc.

Warnings: Swearing, migraines, mentions of injuries.

Word count: 2.1k

A/n: @louifaith, the muse you are, feeding our Daryl obsessed minds with your beautifully crafted scenarios. I wasn't feeling well today (a migraine and I was pretty dizzy) and didn't get much writing done, but this idea deserved to be written. There's a bit of Eugene slander in this but it's because I don't really like S5 Eugene. He's way better in the other seasons imo. Anyways, I hope you like this!

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The cruelty of life seemed endless. With the stability and safety of the farm being something of the past, having to scavenge for scraps and having to move from house to house every few days, and with the impending arrival of Lori's little baby, everyone's spirits were diminished. Everyone longed for the comfort the farm brought for those few weeks you had all been looking for Sophia, everyone wanted a decent meal to satiate their hunger and although Lori's unborn baby was a reminder that innocence still existed, it was also a cruel reminder that you all needed to find someplace to plant some roots, and fast—especially if you didn't want to attract the dead with the baby's loud crying.

You sighed softly as you quietly followed behind Daryl, yours and his boots making clear tracks in the deep snow. The archer, as observant as ever, noticed your shift in mood and turned his head, eyeing you carefully.

“Ya alrigh'?” he questioned, turning his attention back to the tracks in front of him. Your relationship was pretty new, only having been "officially" together since the two of you had shared a kiss back after the fall of the farm.

You nodded, although he couldn't see you. “I'm fine.”

Daryl hummed, unconvinced. “Yer not fine. I know ya better than tha'.”

Your lips twitched up into a smile, walking a little faster to walk next to him. Daryl slowed his pace slightly to allow you to walk next to him at a steady pace, eyeing you as you adjusted your compound bow over your shoulder—a gift he had gotten you when you had mentioned wanting to learn how to hunt.

“I'm fine, I promise. I'm just tired, that's all,” you replied reassuringly, walking almost shoulder to shoulder with your partner.

Daryl shot you a worried look, fully prepared to head back. “If yer tired, we can go back. This trail ain't leadin' us anywhere, anyway.”

“I don't mean tired in the literal sense,” you corrected. “I'm just tired of all this moving around. Not knowing what our next meals going to be, if we even eat at all, not knowing when our current camp's going to be overrun with walkers, not knowing when Lori's baby's going to be here... It's mentally exhausting. We all need a break.”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod. “Yeah,” he agreed. “We could do with a couple' of days where we ain't gotta worry.”

Before you could respond, there was a snap of a twig ahead of the two of you. Instinctively, you and Daryl raised your respective weapons in the direction of the noise, expecting to find a walker staggering towards you. However, instead of coming face to face with danger, you saw a small deer walking over to something in the distance.

Daryl raised his crossbow, aiming to take the shot. However, your hand on his arm halted his intentions. He shot you a questioning look, but you only hushed him and beckoned for him to follow you. The two of you slowly crept closer, the scene before you becoming clearer. The small deer made its way to what was presumably its mother, nuzzling against her legs.

You smiled softly at the sight. Despite the fall of the world, beauty still remained. Unbeknownst to you, Daryl was thinking the exact same thing at that moment, but he wasn't looking at the deer. He was gazing at you, taking in your radiant smile, the sparkle in your eyes, just everything about you. You truly were beautiful to the archer.

Hesitantly, Daryl brushed his hand against yours. Your smile widened but you made no move to grab his hand, not wanting to scare him off. You moved at his pace, and whether he held your hand at that moment was his decision.

In the end, the only thing he did was link his pinky with yours, and it was a perfect moment for you. In your mind, that was really good progress for a man who wasn't familiar with giving or receiving comfort. You'd wait as long as you needed to for Daryl to be comfortable around you. You'd never push him, never.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

The road seemed endless. You listened to the incessant yapping from one of your newest companions in your group of ragtag survivors, Eugene Porter, and had to resist the urge to tell him to shut up. Despite the euphoria and relief that came with reuniting with your group and having new members that could help you all, you were tired. Not just physically, but mentally, too. It was so much worse this time around than when you were initially on the road two years back. You were sporting a bruised cheek with deep cuts and scrapes littering the rest of your body, and you had a raging migraine.

And Eugene's droning wasn't helping matters at all.

As if sensing your deteriorating resolve at not biting the poor man's head of, Rick finally called for a break. “We rest here for now. We'll get moving again in an hour. Everything you want to do, do it now. Once we move again, we're not stopping until nightfall.”

Everyone soon dispersed, some heading to a nearby creek to refill the water supply, some starting a small fire to heat up some food and some even laying down on the hard ground to get some much needed sleep. You walked over to a tree and slid down against it, resting your head on your knees, willing the migraine away.

You soon heard a rustling next to you, before feeling a body sitting down next to you. You didn't even have to look up to know it was Daryl—the archer's presence was something you had grown used to and you could identify him anywhere.

“Hey,” he greeted you quietly, loosely hugging his knees. “Ya alrigh'?”

You hummed, lifting your head to look at him. “I'm fine,” you replied. “I just have a migraine.”

Daryl nodded, his face showing sympathy for you. “M'sorry we dun' have anythin' fer yer migraine. I know how bad they can get.”

You smiled and shook your head, placing your hand on the ground beside you, right between you and Daryl. “It's okay. It'll go away eventually. It's not that bad, as long as Eugene's quiet.”

Daryl chuckled, eyeing the aforementioned man who was sitting near the campfire. “Yeah, he's quite annoying, ain't he?”

“No, he's alright. He just needs to learn to be quiet from time to time.”

Daryl hummed and quieted down, simply basking in the early afternoon heat under the shade of the tree while the two of you observed the survivors going about their chores. However, Rick soon called for everyone to regroup, and you and Daryl got up to follow behind him.

You and Daryl walked at the back, giving you some semblance of privacy, and some semblance of relief from Eugene's rambling as he was at the front with Abraham and Rosita. Slowly and hesitantly, Daryl moved closer to you and brushed his hand against yours, before slowly interlacing his fingers through yours.

You smiled up at him, and he returned the smile with a small one of his own. It may not have been the first time that you've held hands with the archer, but it was the first time that you've done so with people around. Although Daryl slightly manoeuvred the two of you in a way that your locked hands wouldn't draw attention if people weren't directly looking at you, it was still a big deal for you. He was starting to show you off publicly. Although people back at the prison knew you as "the hunter's girl" because of an incident where a guy flirted with you and Daryl put him in his place, PDA wasn't something they ever saw from the man. He preferred to keep that part of your lives private—so this simple gesture was a big deal.

You squeezed his hand, a gesture you and Daryl had come up with to quietly tell the other "I love you". Daryl smiled softly and squeezed your hand back.

You truly loved this man, and he had shown countless times that he loved you, too.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“You guys should come over again. This was nice,” Eric told you with a smile, him and Aaron walking out onto the porch with you and Daryl.

You smiled at him and nodded. “We will, especially if you're going to be serving that spaghetti you made again. It was delicious. Seriously, thank you. It's the best meal we've had in a while.”

“No thanks necessary,” Aaron replied, waving you off. “It was our pleasure.”

Daryl nodded, moving to shake Aaron's extended hand. “Thanks. This was a hell of a lot better than tha' party at Deanna's woulda been.”

Aaron nodded and withdrew his hand again, allowing Eric to take his place before moving over to give you a hug. You returned it before giving Eric a hug too, and then pulled back.

“We should get going. Once again, thanks for tonight.”

“Once again, it's our pleasure,” Eric laughed. “Goodnight, guys. We'll see you around.”

“Goodnight,” you greeted them.

“Nigh',” Daryl responded, turning to you and subconsciously extending his hand to you.

You smiled at him but didn't say anything, not wanting him to change his mind about it. You slipped your hand into his and walked with him down the porch steps and into the relatively quiet streets of Alexandria, music from Deanna's party playing very faintly in the background.

You and Daryl didn't instantly go home. You simply walked through the streets, familiarising yourselves with the community. Daryl never let go of your hand; he had even brought your hand up to his lips once to kiss your knuckles, and your heart swelled with love for the man.

The two of you had run into a couple of the people in the community who were returning to their homes after the party, and you had suspected that Daryl would pull his hand from yours, but he never did. His grip on your hand seemed to tighten slightly during your interactions with those people, seeking your comfort around people he didn't know. It made you feel special, important. It made you happy to know that the man you met back at the quarry trusted you enough to bring him comfort.

Later that night, when the two of you returned to the empty house and retreated into the sanctuary of your shared basement, snuggled up together under the covers was when you finally addressed what he had done. Daryl was laying with his head on your chest, absentmindedly tracing shapes and figures onto your hand.

“You held my hand today,” you told him, softly threading your fingers through his freshly washed, brown locks, the shower having been courtesy of your skillful convincing.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed absentmindedly, nuzzling his face deeper into your chest.

“In front of people,” you said, eyeing his reaction carefully.

Daryl simply glanced up at you, his face not revealing anything. “Ya want me to stop doin' tha'?”

You shook your head. “No, I like it. It's just a little out of the ordinary for you, and it took me by surprise.”

Daryl was quiet for a few moments. “I always wanna hold yer hand when we're walkin' together. I jus' never had the courage to. Dun' want people to overreact when they see it. But, I dunno... I love ya and I'll be damned if I dun' hold my girl's hand 'cause of wha' people think.”

You giggled and kissed the top of Daryl's head. “So I can expect an increase in handholding?”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah.”

You smiled at him. “Good. That's exactly what I wanted to hear. I love you, Dar.”

Daryl placed a kiss to your chest, before laying his head back down. “Love ya more, sunshine.”

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