#*VIBRATES INTENSELY AS THOUGH MY BONES NEED TO BREAK FREE OF MY BODY*

[dhorrl]

Mine First, Spider Second

Feitan/Reader

MDNI 18+

First fan fiction I’ve wrote in a long time. I have this and another posted on AO3 but I’m going to start trying to post over here too since most of what I read in on Tumblr. Bear with me as I get a feel of how to post on here.

Many triggers, including but not limited to:

Knife play

Blood Play

Bondage/BDSM

Breath Play

AFAB/She/her pronouns used, no names given purposefully.

Feitan starts out VERY rough and intense, but Reader had a healing ability, so don’t worry about her too much. There will be a lot of blood. You have been warned.

Also this is basically 100% smut, but my other fic has some story building to how they got together, maybe I’ll post that later.

She looked up at her hands, tied in perfect knots to the bed's metal frame. Careful thought was put into them, wrapped intricately around her wrists and hands. She could squeeze down on the ropes with her palms, but they were not budging. Her mouth was gagged with a bar, allowing her to breathe and to bite down but not to speak. Looking down, she was completely naked. Her legs were still free to move, but she wasn't getting free from her position. Feitan had thought of everything to make this night perfect… for himself.

After checking that his prey was sufficiently secured to his liking, he removed his coat and shirt, leaving his pants. He knelt between her legs, a knife between his teeth. She could tell what was coming, and yet she was terrified. That's what he wanted: fear.

Feitan pressed the knife firmly down her hip, almost to the bone. She bit down on the gag and tried to scream, tears immediately welling up and streaming down her face. He smiles, instantly aroused by the screams and cries. The knife was so sharp he barely had to pull down to begin fileting open her leg. Only a few inches to cause a good stream of blood to flow. He pulled out the knife and examined his work. A beautiful crimson river cascaded down her body onto the mattress. His aura began to race with bloodlust. He leaned forward over his target, holding the knife over her face, letting the blood drops fall on her porcelain skin. Her eyes said what her mouth could not, that she feared what came next. Feitan smiled malevolently and licked her blood off the knife before shoving his tongue under the bar in her mouth. The taste of iron began to spread with the immense saliva forming in her mouth.

"Taste good?" Feitan whispered, enjoying the vibration of her body trembling under him. "Plenty more to come."

He began dragging the tip of the knife down from her neck, between her breasts, not breaking the skin. She shivered, sensing the metal being pulled torturously against her. Blood trailed from the tip of the knife. Feitan continued tilting over here, resting his weight on one arm. He began sucking on her breasts, twisting her hardened nipples with his tongue, prompting involuntary moans between her teeth. She shut her eyes, bracing herself for his subsequent action. Feitan continued down, biting and sucking marks all over her stomach. He then took a deep breath and slashed the knife across her belly, once, then twice, in a clean X mark, giggling maniacally. Each gash caused her to flinch, and she whimpered. Seeing her like that, Feitan became so stimulated that his erection rose, being held back only by his pants. He crumbled against her, basking in his butchery and her wetness. She felt a shift on the bed and opened her eyes. Feitan stood beside her, removing the remaining parts of his clothing, and towered next to the bed, completely erect. His cock glistened, beginning to leak from arousal. She sensed his bloodlust rising and began to contort with dread.

"Why fight? Doesn't matter. I take what I want," Feitan spoke, cold and firm.

He wanted the fight, though. He longed for it. He climbed back into the bed, fanning her legs further apart. He salivated, needing to taste her. Scooping his arms around her hips, he enveloped her clit with his tongue while manipulating his fingers through the bloody laceration on her leg. She squirmed uncontrollably, battling between the pain of him fingering her wound and the exhilaration of his tongue churning around her clit. She sobbed harder as her hips bucked into his face. Her body was betraying her, wanting more. He glanced up, grinning from ear to ear.

"Needy baby."

He continued working her slit, unable to contain his moans as he covered his face with her juices and his hand with her blood. Her body reacted violently to the stimulation, the nerves all over her body betraying her as she came into his mouth. He didn't stop. Continuing to torment her with overstimulation, Feitan ate her out hungrily. The pain and pleasure were excruciating. Despite the misery, she started to feel another orgasm forming. Unable to fight any longer, she enveloped his head with her legs, pulling him in further and grinding hard to release again. Happy with his work, he pulled himself up on his knees to admire the beautiful disaster. Thinking fast, she shifted her weight to one leg and swiftly wrenched into a kick, catching him in the mouth. She couldn't do much damage at this angle but split his lip just enough to see a trickle of blood bead down his chin. His eyes narrowed.

"You fucking slut. You'll pay for that."

Feitan grabbed another coil of rope and began to tie her knees back, forcing her into an exposed position. She tried to fight him, twisting her shoulders around frantically. He became frustrated and smashed his hand into her left shoulder, dislocating it. She became blind with pain, and Feitan continued his work, tying her legs back into position. Her pussy was spread wide, and her ass was open for him now.

"Bad little whores get punished."

He looked around for a moment and found his black leather belt. When she saw him coming, she began to squirm and weep as if to beg for his forgiveness.

"Too late for that," he said menacingly.

Feitan pulled back and popped her with the belt buckle, causing her to wail harder. Again and again, he thrashed at her, between her pussy and her ass. The pillow under her head was soaked with tears and sweat. His biceps bulged as he continued, leaving welts on her perfect flesh. He flipped the belt around and began smacking the leather against the back of her thighs, composing a symphony of sounds. The hide against flesh and the staccato wails were like music to him.

After having his fill with the belt, Feitan climbed back onto the bed and leaned over her body, whispering into her ear.

"Are we going to be good girl now?"

She nodded, attempting to breathe through the sobs.

"Good, reward you now."

Feitan's massive cock penetrated her with fervor, smashing against her flesh. He dug his claws into her fleshy thighs as he pounded into her over and over, leaving little drops of blood under his nails. Her hips tried to grind back, but the new position halted her movements. He noticed her attempt and graciously moved one hand to her swollen bud, swirling tight circles. The heat began to twist in her stomach, but he pulled himself and his hands away before she could finish.

"Ah ah, not yet."

What more could he do to her? She looked up at the demonic angel who stooped before her, wishing for a release. She couldn't guess what he was thinking.

Feitan reached one hand under her hips, twisting her slightly upwards towards him. Using the other hand, he stuck his fingers inside her dripping pussy, then one, two, three fingers he worked into her asshole. Once again, she tried to resist, but it was no use. Feitan removed his fingers and forced his massive erection into her hole, eliciting the loudest howls of the night. He was merciless, giving her no time to truly adjust before forcing himself back in and out again. Just as he felt himself starting to get close, he once again moved his hand over her pulsing clit and began to work her into release. She couldn't resist the orgasm that was welling deep within. She came forcefully, sending Feitan over the edge and pumping his seed into her ass. He held it in momentarily, coming off the high, then slowly pulled out. She nearly blacked out, unable to take anymore.

Feitan took one last glimpse at his handiwork and left the room, leaving her alone, in a state of destruction and euphoria.

~~~

Fifteen minutes later, Feitan returned. He removed the gag from her mouth, leaned over, and kissed her gently. He then grabs the knife once again, slicing through the ropes attaching her to the bed, and begins to undo the knots around her hands and knees. Feitan grabs the arm he broke, gives her a knowing look as she braces herself, and pops the shoulder back into place. He then leans over and whispers gently in her ear.

"Heal."

Her body begins to radiate, her Nen ability activating. Feitan sat at the end of the bed and watched as the gash on her leg began to close up. The slashes he made on her stomach close up one by one. The glowing stops and Feitan relishes the aftermath of blood and scars on her body. While her wounds had closed, she had still lost a fair amount of blood. Feitan delicately sat her up and held a large glass of water to her lips.

"Drink all." He waited until every last drop was gone.

He lifts her up and takes her from the room. Down the hall, a bath is waiting for his beloved. The room is lit with candles. He carefully sets her down in the tub, and soft cooing escapes her lips. The warm water stings against her bruised skin, but He climbs in behind her and cleans her back with a soapy washcloth, starting with the small spider tattoo with the number 9 in the middle. He traces a scarred number "2" on her other shoulder. She sighs deeply, leaning into his touch.

"This feels amazing. Thank you, Fei."

"No, thank you. You were amazing."

"Did you believe I was scared?" She laughed.

"Yes, thought about stopping a few times. Glad I didn't." Feitan closed his eyes a moment, thinking back to earlier. He became slightly engorged, taking in the memories.

"Fei, I trust you with my life. I'll never trust anyone the way I trust you, not even the rest of the team. I'm a Spider first; that's the agreement we made. But after that, it's only you. I live for the troupe, but I'd die for you."

Feitan's heart fluttered. "Mine first. Spider's second." He knew the risk of feeling that way but also knew he would sacrifice everyone, even Chrollo, to protect her.

Gathering her strength, she lifts herself from the bath to turn and face Feitan. Leaning into him, she kisses him intensely. Feitan snakes his fingers into her hair, pulling her into a passionate embrace. Before things got too far, he pulled back and sat her in the tub.

"Clean first. Dirty later."

She rolls her eyes but silently agrees. After bathing, Feitan steps out of the tub, towels himself off, then grabs another dry towel. He holds his hand for her, helping her out of the tub, then lightly pat down his darling girl. He loves this part, reveling at the exquisite scars along her velvety skin. She was mutilated head to toe, and he loved every inch. He knew which scars were from battle and which were caused by himself. Once sufficiently dry, he tossed the towel aside and scooped her again in his arms.

"To bed, my love," he whispered softly. She nuzzled in closely as he carried her off to a different room this time, opposite the dungeon he had played with her earlier. Feitan laid her out on the plush mattress, and she ran her foot up the length of his chest. He grabbed at her foot and began leaving a trail of kisses down her leg. She inhaled sharply as he approached her warmth, reaching down to grab his hair. He bit down on her inner thigh, teasing her.

"Please, Fei, I need you," she expressed in a desperate voice.

"Anything for you."

Feitan dove into her softness as if he hadn't tasted her hours before. With her hands free to roam now, she held his head, grinding into his lips, begging for more. He darted his tongue into her opening, sending ecstasy shots through her nerve endings.

"Yes, please, my king, give me more." She begged and pleaded, unable to maintain any semblance of humility. He flickered his tongue sharply inside and moaned into her, adding delectable vibrations. Her wetness dripped down his chin and onto the sheets.

He stopped a moment, causing an audible cry from her lips. "No! Please don't stop," she whined. Immediately she knew she had messed up.

Feitan barred his teeth. "Punish you for that later." He lay out on the bed near the headboard. "First, come sit."

She knew what he was asking, and goosebumps crawled along her flesh. She clamored up to the head of the bed and mounted his face, hands on the headboard for support. She hovered over his face instinctively when he snaked his arms around her legs and hips and pressed her onto himself. He had no intention of coming up for air anytime soon.

"Oh fuck. Fei, oh fuck!"

She momentarily tried to rise from his face, but he had a death grip on her. She may be on top, but he was in control. Her hips began to stir, and she saw stars. Feitan's nose circled her clit, with his tongue moved up and down and all around. Electricity shot through her body in a thunderous display. The wetness was now leaking down Feitan's face and ears, which only stood to make him more heated.

He released her, and she flopped onto the bed, completely spent. Feitan wiped some dampness onto the sheet, then leaned over her, kissing her passionately. He wanted to share the taste with her and combine all the flavors he loved. She accepted his gift with longing, wrestling together in a fiery embrace. Feitan moved on top of her, stroking the tip of his cock between her slit.

Feitan pulled from her lips. "I think you have one more, my love. Not holding back."

He entered her slowly, wanting to feel every sensation of the stroke inside her. She clawed into the sheets, but he took her hand and pinned it above her head, lacing his fingers into hers. She found his lips again, kissing him with unbearable vigor, all while Feitan continued moving inside her slowly, steadily, and intentionally. Moans were exchanged into each other's open mouths, telling the other what words could not. Feitan's movements became more vigorous; he knew he couldn't hold himself together much longer. He was determined to bring her to her climax again.

"Cum, love. cum with me."

Feitan wrapped his finger around her throat and began to lightly choke her. Her head began to swim, intensifying every sensation. They began grinding together intensely while he continued restricting her oxygen just enough to amplify everything. When he could tell she was almost there, he let go. She inhaled deeply and began to scream until her voice became raspy. The orgasm was so intense her vision went black. Feitan released simultaneously, moaning and cursing through the fantastic feeling. He collapsed into her heaving breasts, unable to hold himself up any longer. Neither moved for several minutes. The only sounds were of heavy breaths.

Feitan slowly moved to her side, pulling her into his chest. "Mine," he said into her ear. They drifted to sleep together, enjoying one last night before leaving for their next job.

#feitan #hunter x hunter #feitan smut #phantom troupe #feitan x reader

[adhdgoro]

WAIT HOLD ON MY MIND MY BIG FUCKING BRAIN EVERYONE SHUT UP FOR A SECOND LEMME THINK

#REY TALKS #IM GOING INTO AU MODE #*VIBRATES INTENSELY AS THOUGH MY BONES NEED TO BREAK FREE OF MY BODY*

[itsallyscorner]

Bring Me Back

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Filming “Cherry” had its ups and downs for Tom. When filming finally takes its toll on him, you’re there to instantly bring him back from the world of Cherry.

Warnings: Mentions of drug abuse, PTSD, murder. A smidge of smut.

A/n: In honor of the Cherry🍒 trailer dropping, I decided to write this!

(GIF creds: @atealiers )

Any kind of project was a blessing to Tom. He loved being an actor. He was fond of telling stories through the big screen and got a kick from portraying many different characters. Acting was something he felt passionate about, it was his craft and he was very dedicated when it came to becoming his roles. Cherry was quite different from the other movies he’s been in. It was dark and contained many subjects like drug addiction, PTSD, and crime. The world of Cherry was something Tom was not used to; it was twisted. He hasn’t been exposed to things like drugs or the events that Nico Walker had been through. Which was why he was hesitant to take on the role of Cherry.

When the Russo Brothers approached him with the idea, he was excited. He was getting the opportunity to tell another story and would explore the world of a new character. Though the more he looked into it, he realized that maybe he wasn’t up for the role. Was he really ready to dive into the dark and traumatizing life of Nico Walker? As an actor, he was willing to take the job, it would give him an opportunity to expand his career and would possibly be one of his best work. As Tom, he wasn’t sure if he could handle learning or re-enacting the events that occurred in Cherry. But Tom did like a challenge, which was why he ended up agreeing to become Cherry.

He prepared himself mentally and physically pre- production. For research, he interviewed army veterans and former drug addicts to get an idea of what it was like to be in those positions. To get the look of Cherry, he did a variety of things. For example, going on a diet and losing weight, then gaining said weight again once they had to shoot the army scenes. Another thing he did was shave off the gorgeous brown curls that adorned his head. At first you weren’t too happy with his change in hairstyle, but later on you found yourself running your hands along the short strands of hair, loving the fuzzy feeling it gave your palms.

After the interviews and hearing others’ experience, Tom felt a level of responsibility to tell the story of millions of people around the world. Not only was it telling the story of Nico, but of other army veterans who suffered from PTSD and people who’ve had drug addictions. He was fully on board now and there was no looking back. He was going to push himself to the limit and to places he’s never been before.

Filming was tough. There were scenes he had to do that were so unlike him, that felt wrong, and sometimes he just had to take a step back. They didn’t feel right, but it was nothing he couldn’t handle. This was his job, if he wanted this movie to be the best that it can, he was going to commit. Thankfully, he was working with the Russos, who he’s known for a while now. He was familiar with the two and they were patient with him, giving him the time to regain himself before shooting an intense scene. The cast and crew were very understanding as well, creating a safe space for him on set. Having Harry along with him helped as well, the familiarity of his brother kept him grounded and avoided him from falling into the void of Cherry. Though he had all these supportive people around him, there was only one person who could calm him down when things got suffocating on set. The only person he wanted to be in Cleveland with him but wasn’t. You. Since you had your own life and job, you were unable to fly out to Cleveland with him. Instead you stayed at your shared home with Tessa as company. All he needed was you when he felt the affects of Cherry caging in on him. Just the sound of your comforting voice over the phone could clear his head and make him breath again.

He had his bad days on set, where he would have to take a moment and hide in his trailer for a few minutes. During those few minutes he liked to be alone as he waited for you to answer your phone. The line would ring, it’d stop, then the sound of your sweet voice would be the only thing he’d hear. Sometimes you didn’t answer the first time, but nonetheless you answered eventually. It wasn’t the same as having you with him in person, you had your responsibilities, and he understood that. He just wished that one day you’d come to Cleveland. He wanted to be in your arms, stuff his face into your neck, breath in your familiar scent, he just wanted to feel you. You were his home. His safe haven. And it was all he wanted right now.

•

Glancing at your phone, you wondered why Tom hasn’t texted you yet. Not that you were itching for him to text you, but because around this time he would be blowing up your phone telling you things that happened during filming or how his day was going. You decided that filming probably went into overtime making him busy during his break. You shrug to yourself and continue working on your laptop.

You hear the sound of Tessa’s nails clicking against the floors as she enters the office of your home. You greet her with a smile as she settles herself beside your legs.

“Is it dinner time already, Tess?” You scratch her head as you glance at the time on your screen. It was currently nine at night, a bit late for dinner, but you haven’t noticed.

“Just give me five more minutes and I’ll get us dinner. How does that sound, love?” A somewhat sound of approval emits from Tessa. You get back to work, fingers typing away as you finish off the last of your work.

You finish in four minutes, finally satisfied with your work. You let out a content sigh and turn your laptop off. When you get up you stretch and let your bones crack after being in the same position for hours. Tessa joins you, stretching out her front paws then shaking her body out. You chuckle as you lead the way to the kitchen. Taking the scoop for Tessa’s kibble, you fill her bowl up, causing the dog to look up in curiosity. Once you placed the bowl down, her tail wagged wildly as she stuffed her face into her food.

You decided on going for something simple, ramen noodles. You were too tired too cook anything and ramen noodles were the quickest thing to cook in your pantry. While you waited for the noodles to heat up you checked your phone. You went through your notifications, but there were still no texts from Tom. Though you were concerned, you assumed that they had a long shooting day, making him too busy to text. 

Hi love! I hope you’re doing well in Cleveland. I know you’re probably busy, but hopefully filming isn’t tiring you out too much. Have an amazing day! Don’t forget to drink some water from time to time and eat :) Tess and I miss you and love you so much! Talk soon xxx

You send the text with a smile. He won’t read it till he was free or done with filming, but you knew he’d see the message while you were asleep.

The microwave beeps, letting you know that your food was done. You end your night catching up on episodes of New Girl and eating soup. When you were done you did your nightly routine and settled in bed. You turn the lights off and snuggled under the warm sheets.

“Night Tessa.” You whisper to her. A huff comes out of her as she makes herself comfortable on the foot of your bed. When the both of you were settled, you slowly drifted off to sleep.

Buzz

Buzz

The harsh vibrations of your phone shook you awake. Desperate for sleep, you blindly grab your phone and turn it off. Silence fills the room again as you turn around to stuff your face into Tom’s pillow. You were slowly drifting back to sleep when your phone began to vibrate again. With a groan you stretch back and snatch for phone off the night stand. You don’t bother looking at the caller id.

“Hello?” Your voice rasps out.

“Thank God you answered.” The person on the other line said. “I know you’re busy, but how soon can you visit Cleveland?” The deep voice was belonged to Harry.

“Uh—I’m not too sure, I’ll need to check in with my boss.” You reply. When you start feeling more awake you become curious as to why Harry can be calling you. “Why? Is everything ok? How’s Tom? I haven’t heard from him all day.”

The younger Holland sighs. He takes a moment to answer your questions making you suffer in silence, wondering what could have happened to your boyfriend. “Um, they’ve been shooting some intense scenes lately. Tom’s been trying his best but everyone’s noticed that he’s been a bit different.”

You sit up in bed feeling more awake. “What do you mean by different, Haz?”

“Well he’s snapped at the Russos quite a few times. There was this one scene, that they shot multiple times, and Tom would just break down after every one. (Y/n), I’m concerned for my brother, I don’t know what else to do. He’s locked himself in his room after every shoot. A—and I don’t know. I’ve tried to tell him that he can talk to me but he wouldn’t.” Harry explained, his voice croaked. You heart felt heavy for him. Harry was always there for his older brother, so to see him feel so helpless made you feel sorry.

“Haz, calm down, you know how your brother can get. How long has this been happening?”

Harry sniffed over the phone, “About a few weeks now. It’s only started becoming worse last week and now.”

The concern you felt for Tom grew. From what he’s been texting you, filming had been going great. He appeared happy on your FaceTime calls and sounded like his usual self. But maybe he actually wasn’t.

“Harry everything’s gonna be fine, alright?” You assure him. “I’ll call my boss first thing in the morning and when I get the ‘ok’ to leave I’ll get the first flight out to Cleveland. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds good. Can you tell me if you can make it? I’ll have someone come with me to pick you up at the airport.” His voice is quiet, almost muffled.

“Yeah I will, don’t worry.”

“Ok, thank you (y/n).” A small smile forms on your lips. You rub the sleep out your eyes as you glance at your closet. “Alright Haz, I’m gonna go now. But if there’s anything else, just text me or call.”

“I know, stay safe (y/n).” You bid him goodbye and place your phone on the empty space beside your side of the bed. Tom’s side of the bed. You bite your lip in thought as you worry about your boyfriend. You knew he was doing almost everything he can to make sure the movie came out perfect. If that meant shredding himself emotionally and physically, he was going to do it. Tom was dedicated to his work, but he’s never done anything close to Cherry, making you worried about the thoughts that could possibly be going through your lover’s head.

Tessa, who’s now woken up, waddles closer to you, sensing your uneasiness. You appreciate the dog’s gesture and pull her into your side, resting your chin on her head. You were basically sleepless the whole night. Although you haven’t emailed your boss yet, you already had a suitcase packed of your clothes. Your passport and other important belongings were already in a bag, ready to leave London.

The morning had been hectic. You’ve managed to get two hours of sleep, waking up at six in the morning. Still in bed, you sent your boss an email about a family emergency and how you needed to be out of the country for at least a week. As if the gods above knew of your situation, your boss willingly let you go, no questions asked and gave you well wishes. With that out the way, you scowered the Internet for flights to Cleveland. Luck was on your side that morning because you’ve booked a flight that took off in the afternoon. With your bags packed, you drove to Nikki and Dom’s to drop off Tessa.

Now all checked in, you were at Heathrow Airport waiting to be called for your flight. You were sat at your gate, with an iced coffee and a croissant from Starbucks, texting Harry. The two of you were discussing the time you’d arrive and how he’d pick you up. When you were both in agreement, you two decided to catch up. He had been in Tom’s trailer eating his breakfast. An hour passes and you were being called to board the plane.

You settle in your seat, but your leg bounced in anticipation. After the things Harry told you, you just wanted to have your boyfriend in your arms. You knew everything was probably getting to his head, all you wanted to do was hold him and tell him that he was going to be ok. As the plane began to take off, your lack of sleep caught up on you. Throughout the whole flight, you slept soundly, the worries of Tom subsiding for the time being.

~🛬~

The plane lands in Cleveland safely. It was night when you arrived. With your bags, you looked around the airport for a familiar curly haired boy. Harry waves wildly at you before running and pulling you into a tight hug. You laugh wrapping your arms around the slender boy.

“How’s your day been, Haz?” You ruffle his hair as he rolls your suitcase to the parking lot. He shrugs, “The usual. Was on set with Tom, ran around and got things for him, nothing much happened honestly. But you’re here now, so this is the highlight of my night.”

The two of you approach a black car with a driver inside, Harry motions for him to unlock the trunk. He lifts your case in before the two of you get into the backseat.

“How was your flight?” Harry asks you. The car began to move, exiting the airport and entering the highway.

“I slept through all of it, I don’t remember a thing about the flight besides getting on and off it.” You chuckle, leaning your head back against the headrest.

Harry nudges your shoulder, “Thanks for coming out with such short notice.” You wave him off. “It’s no worries, anything for my boys.”

The car is quiet, the only sounds that could be heard is the car’s wheels against the pavement. You turn to Harry, “How was he today?”

“He was pretty good in the morning.” Harry started. “Then filming started and he would grow frustrated after a few scenes. His temper’s been short. He snapped at me during lunch, which is normal, but I just asked him if he wanted some water. He broke down after a certain scene today, I tried talking to him but he still wouldn’t open up about it.” Tom wasn’t too open about his feelings sometimes. He struggled to voice them at times making all his frustrations and feelings bottled up in his head.

Half an hour later and you guys arrive at Tom’s rented home in Atlanta. As soon as you opened the door, you felt the heavy atmosphere. It was somber and tense, the chilliness of the weather also felt inside the house. Harry gestures up the stairs, “Don’t worry, go see him. His room is the first door on the left.”

You quietly thank him and climb up the stairs. You find his door, taking a deep breath before knocking. You hear some shuffling behind the door, “Harry I’m fine! Leave me alone!” His voice was deep, a bit scratchy. You frown at the door.

“Tom?” The room falls quiet. Suddenly you hear fumbling and the sound of heavy footsteps behind the door. The door opens and you finally see him. He was dressed in a large shirt with sweatpants. He looked tired, dark circles under his eyes, eyes glassy, and chapped lips.

“(Y/n)? You’re here?” He asks you in disbelief. A tight lipped grin forms on your lips.

“Yeah, Har—“ You were going to explain how you got there but he immediately threw himself at you. His arms wrap tightly around your figure, his head dipped into your neck, pulling your closer into him. One of your arms go around his neck while the other rubs his back soothingly. A whimper bubbles out of him, his shoulders beginning to shake. You managed to shuffle the both of you back into his room, closing the door behind you.

“You’re ok.” You whisper into his ear, pressing a kiss to the side of his neck. His grip around you never falters. Though he was much taller than you, he seemed so small at the moment. His body drowned in the shirt he wore, making him look thinner. You feel tears soaking into your shirt, making your heart clench in pain. You rest your forehead against his shoulder, holding and whispering sweet nothings into his ear until he was ready to speak.

A few minutes pass until his removes his head from your neck. You frown at his tear stained face, his eyes and cheeks red from quietly sobbing into your shoulder. Your hands cup his face, wiping the trails of tears on his cheeks. Tom leans closer to your touch, his eyes shut while his lips kiss your palm.

“I’m sorry, you’re probably tired from the flight.” He apologizes but you shake your head. You lead him to his bed and sit against the headboard. Tom follows in suit, desperately trying to get closer to you. His arms wrap around your torso, his head rests on your chest, while your legs tangle themselves together.

“I’ve had plenty of sleep on the flight, how are you?” Your lips are against his short hair from holding him so close. You nails scratch softly at his hair, calming him down.

“I don’t know if I could finish it.” He quietly admits. He shakes his head at himself.

“Why’s that, Tom?” Your boyfriend takes a deep breath as he sits up, removing himself from your touch. He sits across from you with legs crossed as he holds his head in his hands.

“I—I, it’s too much. There’s so much fucked up things he’s done. And all the things he’s seen. I just—sometimes I feel like it’s me who’s committed all of those things. When we shoot the scenes in the war and when I had to do drugs and rob banks, I felt like I lost myself—“ He cries interrupting himself to take a breath in. Compared to your fingers that ran gently through his hair, his clawed at his head. His palms rub harshly at his face, turning his skin a bright tint of red. To see Tom in such pain made you sad. You hated seeing him like this.

You gently remove his hands from scratching at his face and hold them in his lap. He stares down at your hands, clinging onto them as if his life depended on it. “I get lost in the character sometimes and I have to pull myself out of it to bring me back. But it keeps on happening over and over again. Then the Russos kept telling me to reshoot the scene more like Cherry, and I lost it and yelled at them.” You feel his tears fall to your your hands, making tears well up in your own eyes. You shuffle closer to him and kiss his forehead before pulling him into you. You stay quiet, letting him get whatever he wanted to get out.

Tom’s face is against your shoulder again. He sniffs before continuing, “It’s like everyday I find something he and I have in common. Then I think that maybe I’m turning into him. I don’t want him to be part of me. (Y/n), I don’t want to be him, I don’t want to do the things he’s done.” He sobs into your shoulder. Your heart breaks at how broken he sounded. His shoulders shook again, his back burning up with tension. A few tears made it’s way down your cheeks as you pulled his face away from you.

“Look at me.” You urged him. His jaw clenched, still looking down at his lap. He shook his head in response. “Tom, please. Look at me.” Your voice cracks. He slowly tilts his head up, your eyes connecting. He didn’t have that twinkle in his eyes, it’s like they’ve lost the light in them. Instead they were dark, like there was no life behind them. There was a mix of sadness, confusion, and even fear in his eyes.

You sadly smiled at him, cupping his face with your hands. “You’re not going to be him. You never will. You’re Tom. You are nothing close to Nico or Cherry. You are the sweetest man I have known in the world, you wouldn’t even hurt a damn fly. You’re not him. I know you aren’t. You wouldn’t do the things he’s ever done even if you were forced to. I know you Tom, I assure you, you’re nothing like him.” Tom hiccups, gripping onto your wrists.

“When this is all over and you’re done filming, we can forget about him. We won’t even mention him.” You assure him, stroking his cheeks.

“What if—,” You cut him off.

“No, there’s no what if’s. You’re going to be fine Tom. You’re surrounded by people who love you and will make you realize that you’re nothing even near him. You are the kindest man ever, you love your family, you care about your fans, and your brothers. You’re busy always taking care of everyone else, I think it’s time you take care of yourself, love.” You tell him. A small smile is on your face but it falters, “You don’t have to go through this alone, Tom.”

Tom takes a shaky breath in. “You’ll be there right?” He asks like a child making sure his mother will be there when he wakes up. “You’ll be there with me to bring me back?”

Your thumb smooths the crinkle between his brows, “I always will. I promise.” He nods and pulls you into him. You climb onto his lap and settle on his legs. He stares up at you, one of his his hands supporting your back, the other pressed against your cheek. “Thank you. I missed you so much. I’m sorry for not texting, everything’s just been so taxing mentally and physically.”

“No, don’t worry I get it.” You turn your face to press a light kiss on his palm. For the first time since you’ve seen him, Tom managed to crack a smile on his lips. He moves some strands of hair away from your face before resting his large hand on the back of your head. “I love you. I love you so much, (y/n).”

“I love you too, Tom.” You whisper against his lips. He takes that as a sign to finally crash your lips together. After months being apart, the feeling of his lips against yours felt like coming home. The kiss was desperate, like it was the air you both breathed. Tom had been longing for your touch, he craved you every second of the day, whether it be sexually or just missing you. The kiss grew rough, your teeth clashing, tongues poking and gliding against each other.

Tom lays you down on the bed, hovering over you. His hands grab and stroke at your body, trying to pull off your clothes to get close to your skin. He suddenly pulls away from your lips. “I need you. Please, I need you.” He almost begs you. Panting, you nod and push him to lay on his back. “Ok, let me take care of you, Tommy.”

He yanks his shirt off, throwing it to the side. You do the same, leaning down to meet his lips again. You kiss your way along his jaw and down to his neck. When you find that certain spot, he lets out a throaty groan, head falling back against the pillows. You run your nails along his chiseled abs and slightly roll your hips against his growing length. Tom grunts, hands instantly connecting to your ass and gripping onto your cheeks. He helps you roll your hips more, deeper with more friction against you two.

“Mm, Tom. I missed you.” You moan against his neck. You bite down and soothe the spot with your tongue after.

Tom looks down at you, lifting his hips to meet your clothes pussy. “Fucking miss you so much. You have no idea how much I’ve been dreaming of being buried in you again.” You kiss your way down his chest, but Tom stops you. His hands grab onto your leggings and slide them off.

“N-no foreplay. I need to feel you.” He stutters out, mouth agape. You nod in agreement and take his sweatpants off along with his boxers. You spit in your hand, running your hand along his dick to give it some wetness. Tom helps you lift yourself over him and guides your hips down his erected cock. You let out a combination of a sigh and moan as your walls envelop and stretch around him. Tom slightly sits up against the headboard, your tightness wrapping around him. He lets out a cry of relief, your walls around him feeding his cravings. You use his shoulders as leverage to pull yourself up but Tom stops you.

“What’s wrong?” You eye him cautiously. Tom shakes his head, “Nothing’s wrong. I just—can we stay like this for a while? I just want to feel you, please?”

“Yeah, we can do that.” You send him a reassuring smile as you settle back down on him. His hands make themselves comfortable around your waist. You maneuver your arms under his and wrap them around his back. Tom smiles at you, rubbing your back and guiding you into his chest. Before you can nuzzle your face into his neck, he presses a kiss to your temple and lets his fingers get tangled in your hair.

With his eyes closed in bliss, he whispers, “Thank you for bringing me back. I love you.”

You kiss his collarbone basking in the feeling him being so close to you. “I’ll always be here. I love you too.”

#marvel #mcu #avengers #Tom Holland #tom holland x reader #Tom Holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland headcanon #Tom Holland smut #Cherry #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland drabble

[blzzrdstryr]

Signed in blood

Yandere!Zhongli x Yaksha!gn!reader

Wordcount: 2541

CW: Yandere themes, mentioned violence and death, unhealthy power dynamics

Long before Liyue’s borders had been established and the harbor bloomed into the prosperous city that it is today, the Geo Lord, Rex Lapis gathered all lesser deities and spirits dwelling in the current nation’s territory and concluded a contract with most of them, ensuring the protection of his country and people. Some of them signed a contract out of fear before archon’s power, some did it for mutual benefit and some out of gratitude and deep reverence. You are in the latter category, a simple forest spirit that was saved from the distorted monsters left after the archon war by his grace and power alone.

It was a simple day when you felt an enormously malicious energy surrounding your green abode, and soon they showed up, killing intent and will of dead archons seeping out of them. You were fast and agile enough to dodge creatures' hits, which couldn't be said about the others. Your fellow spirits and animals with whom you were sharing this forest soon fell victim to the perpetrators' attacks. Dark energy entered and desecrated the lands, poisoned the waters and even possessed the bodies of your old friends.

You were running away, fatigue finally catching up to you, despite the inhuman nature and you soon fell to the ground. There were a myriad of thoughts and feelings reeling inside of you - grief for your now dead friends and home, anger at the monsters and most importantly frustration with yourself. You aren’t human, not a single part of you is, so why were you so weak and helpless, unable to do anything as you left your loved ones for slaughter and massacre?

Guilt and shame washed over you, as you allowed tears to burst free - you were bad, you were disgusting for not doing anything, not helping anyone. Monstrous roars and growls got closer, a promise and a threat of what will happen to you. You closed your eyes, accepting the imminent end and bracing for the upcoming pain. And then the most unexpected thing happened - the earth underneath you vibrated, tremors knocking the beasts off their feet, as a tall basalt pillar rose from the ground.

Soon the stranger appeared, ending the monsters in one swift and elegant slash of his spear. He donned an otherwise simple white attire adorned with golden threads, with a long ponytail showing from the hood, but the most eye-catching details were piercing amber eyes and the glowing patterns all over his body of the same colour. You forgot how to breathe for a second as you watched your unexpected savior - he was beyond handsome, possessing the kind of beauty that would have mortals blushing and stuttering.

He then looked around, finally noticing your sprawled form. “Are you all right?”he asked, his tranquil and calm voice tinted by the shadow of concern and lending his hand. “I am”, you sputtered out and took an outstretched limb, feeling infinitely clumsy and ugly, face heating up from embarrassment. “That is good”, his voice despite still possessing the same serenity took a warmer tone.

As you learned later, you were saved by one of the seven remaining archons, a lord of geo. Filled with shame for your dishonorable escape and gratitude for your unforeseen salvation you signed the tightest contract with Rex Lapis - a blood written pact.

Unlike the contracts mortals establish, a contract between two immortal beings lacks the parchment or ink or a signature, they use magic and techniques that echo directly into their soul, preventing even the possibility of the terms' violation. Blood written pact binds to the vital essences of one, an ancient magic flaring up once the contractor intends to break the agreement, stopping and warning them of what's to come once they do breach it.

Your blood sizzled and boiled as you pledged your life to Liyue, magic singing in your veins and resonating with your soul - Rex Lapis saw the potential in you to be a great warrior and designated you to serve him as one of the yakshas, so you obeyed, training your body and spirit to withstand the endless calamities you no doubt will have to face. One day, after a grueling training you almost gave up, but forced yourself past your limits. I must redeem myself and repay Rex Lapis, you thought, gritting your teeth and taking a battle stance again, and then a miracle happened: a blue glowing orb materialized in the air - a vision bestowed by the hydro archon.

Sometimes you still reminisce about this moment and recite the oath you gave back then - I pledge my life to the protection of the Liyue nation and the will of Geo Archon, Rex Lapis for all the centuries to come.

Soon, you ended your training and started to protect Liyue just like other four adeptis all of whom were also saved by the Geo Lord. For centuries you five defended the nation as it bloomed and grew into something that you couldn't even imagine. And even after centuries of slaughter as your karmic debt started to slowly eat you from inside, slowly, but surely devouring your sanity by the smallest pieces you always found strength to move forward by recalling your first meeting with Rex Lapis, reverence before your God and guilt before the dead driving you further and further.

With time a dull, yet constant pain made its way into your bones. Sometimes it would make your eyes fill with unshed tears, sometimes wake you up in those rare times you slept without nightmares, sometimes it made your hands tremble, almost dropping the weapon in the middle of the battle. You couldn’t suppress and endure it like Xiao does, letting out a pained whimper here and there, yet you still upheld your duty to the Liyue. It almost felt like routine, until two awful events happened: the death and defection.

The fear and hatred of all those who fell victims to your weapons were slowly seeping in your minds, driving you mad with bloodlust. It all happened so quickly: you were watching out for other demons as Bonanus and Pervases were patching up Alatus after the intense battle, while Bosacius looked at the other front, weapons ready, and then Bonanus lashed out, aiming for Xiao's neck. The anemo yaksha quickly darted to the side, but the weapon still grazed the copper bird's neck, his blood forming a quickly growing pool underneath. You had to put the bloodlusted yaksha yourself, something inside of you breaking as you did so - it was one thing to stand against hordes of demons and monsters and it was another to kill your friend.

You couldn’t talk or look into the eyes of the other two after that, despising yourself for yet another failure - first your forest, then your friends, you were helpless to save anyone. And then Bosacius left, you had no idea where he vanished, but these two events prompted Rex Lapis to visit both you and Xiao, as yakshas shrinked in numbers from five to two in less than a week.

You kneel before the Geo archon when you notice his tall figure between the ancient trees - unlike Xiao, you prefer to live in the woods, the familiarity of nature reminiscent of a home you once lost. Your Lord ushers you to stand up, his face solemn and grim.

“[First]”, he starts, exhaustion evident in each syllable: "For centuries you protected my Harbor, and despite turbulent times passing you still uphold your duty. I find that admirable".

Your eyes go wide and you turn your head, unable to receive such high praise from your God, you feel your cheeks heat up at the compliment, acknowledgement of your hard work, and even constant pain or the death and disappearance of your colleagues became less serious of the issue for a mere moment.

"I am not worthy of such praise, my lord, I am only doing my job, fulfilling the contract", you deflect, looking at him again. Archon's eyes crease a little and a small frown appears as you say "contract", yet he quickly wills his face into an impassive mask.

"I suppose I made a mistake when I asked you to be my yaksha back then, I have misjudged your worth ", he continues, voice becoming distant and strangely tense, as he reminisces about the days long past, amber eyes looking both at and through you.

"My lord, I…", you start and then stumble over the words, unsure what to say next. Is this his way of telling you that you're bad at your job? You cast your head down, eyes lowered in shame, hands that spilled adeptus' blood trembling and burning. "I am deeply sorry for letting you down in that way, I will do my best to redeem myself from now on” .

A warm hand touches your shoulder, squeezing it slightly in a comforting manner. His palm is warm and firm, comforting in its steadiness like a tall cliff standing proudly against the raging tides, indestructible and reliable.

"You have no reason to apologize for this. Something like this would inevitably happen sooner or later, you have no fault in the events that occured. I suppose karmic debt would drive one of you insane eventually".

He sounds calming, reassuring, like a parent soothing a child. You still don’t lift your head to meet his gaze - you’re too guilty and unworthy to do that. There are no words you can speak now, not when you have been so thoroughly destroyed by your lord’s kindness - how can he look at you and see someone innocent?

“No, I meant that all those centuries ago, when I first met you I didn’t discern the gem hidden in the crude ore” he adopts reminiscent tone again, his hand now moving on your shoulder in slow and steady rhythm: “I knew I wanted you to be by my side, I didn’t know who I wanted you to be though. I needed time to understand my own feelings and the way I viewed you, and then I needed some more time to accept those sentiments”.

“What sentiments, my lord?”, you ask, finally looking up to him, brows slightly frowned in confusion and curiosity - it’s rare to see the Geo archon talk about his inner workings so openly, as he usually prefers to keep a cordial distance or masterfully redirects the conversation into a completely different direction.

“Over the years, as you protected my nation and my people, I finally understood it”, his hand shifts from your shoulder and now he cups your own two palms in a firm yet gentle hold: “I cherish you, [First]”.

The sudden declaration leaves you stunned and speechless for a good minute: you look at your god with wide eyes, mouth opening several times like a fish out of water. A myriad of thoughts and feelings go through you: confusion, disbelief, inferiority.

“I… That is very sudden for me to… learn about your affections”, you finally utter, forgetting to add respectful “my lord” at the end. Your voice comes off as small and hesitant as you say so. Rex Lapis doesn’t seem to mind your confusion as he takes a second to collect his own thoughts.

“The yaksha title I have burdened you with takes a toll both on your mind and your body. I severely miscalculated, so I want to redeem this mistake”, he sounds regretful now, one hand moving to caress and cup your face. You go stiff, still overwhelmed by the whole conversation. “I can free you from your contract if you decide to become my life companion”.

“But, my lord, it’s so sudden I can’t just..”

“Hush, I won’t pressure you into an intimate relationship right away. No, we will wait and learn about each other and once you will be comfortable enough to let me enter your life and your heart we will marry, uniting our fates with a contract that shall never end”.

You lower your head again, but this time in contemplation instead of guilt and shame. What do you feel for Rex Lapis? Admiration - he is a powerful deity, capable enough to flatten mountains and raise new ones with a single slash of his spear. Gratitude - he was the one that saved you and sheltered you, until you grew strong enough, he gave you a reason to live when you had none. Respect - he is a capable leader, smart enough to build a foundation and guide people of the most magnificent nation in Teyvat.

You feel no love for him, not the kind of love he wants anyway. You know about his patience and how affections sometimes take years to finally mature and bloom, but the thought of spending decades, maybe even centuries in hopes that one day you will reciprocate is nauseating to you.

How do you feel about it? A part of you wants it - it’s an easy way out to get rid of the pain, of the fear and bloodshed, of the death that clings to you at every waking moment. You remember how you spend most of your nights sleepless, drowsiness leaving you the same second you dream of blood and carnage and massacre. You remember your whole body throbbing and burning on especially bad days, when even Remedium Tertiorum can’t do its job. You remember crying and gasping for air after the weight of the slaughtered gets too heavy for you to handle.

You almost say yes, out of these reasons alone, but you stop yourself - you think of Xiao, of how lonely he will become once you leave. You think of heartfelt smiles that mortals gift you with on those rare occasions you have to save them. You think of the slaughtered spirits before whom you still have to atone to.

“I am sorry, my lord” You look him straight in the eyes, bracing yourself for the words you are about to say: “I can’t match your feelings, nor can I accept your offer, not now at least”.

Amber eyes lose their warmth in the instance, the comforting aura he was exuding earlier replaced by the weird tension between you two. Looking at this image, you suddenly remember how ruthless Rex Lapis can be on the battlefield as for a fraction of the second he looks at you as you’re an enemy.

A horrible pain shoots right through your body, and your short scream follows. You fall on the floor, gasping for air, deaf and blind from the overwhelming pain. Geo archon quickly takes your form, carrying you to your sleeping place, as you try your best to breathe and not cry.

“It must be a blood pact acting up, the magic must have taken your refusal as disobedience to the contract”, he says once the agony lightens, enough for you to focus on the conversation, “you did pledge your life to my will”.

You try to half sit on your elbow, to look him in the eyes and say something other than the pained groans and whimpers, as his next words instill a sense of quiet dread in you:

“I hope you will rethink and take back your words out of your own volition, [First]. I would hate to order you to”.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere zhongli #Yandere #Yandere zhongli x reader #yandere x reader #Yandere genshin x reader #Yandere genshin impact x reader #my writing

[huenjin]

unhooking a bra for dummies.

pairing: han jisung x reader

word count: 6k words

genre: smut

tw: use of swear words and name calling out of sheer affection, detailed sexual content — hickeys, breast play, nipple play, fingering, cunnilingus, clitoral stimulation, overstimulation, multiple orgasm, squirting, blowjob, deep throating, gagging, penetration, creampie.

note: this fic has been rewritten/reconcepted from my previous bts fic, the idiot's guide to unhook a bra.

The last time your boyfriend tries to remove your bra one handed, you are glad it is on your body and not his. Not with his strong history of trying to learn how to untie bras by wearing them and then snapping them only to ruin your pretty collection.

The last time your boyfriend tries to remove your bra one handed, it's on your request.

Not because you wanted Jisung to learn (not that it isn't a win-win situation) but mostly because you were so sex deprived from your boyfriend for two weeks now, thanks to his competitive arse. Thanks to his determination of wanting to learn how to remove a bra single handedly because some stupid magazine said it was cool.

Also because the movie was boring and your boyfriend seemed a lot more interesting than the movie's horrible direction.

You're on top of Jisung's lap, kissing down his neck, telling him to focus on how he's feeling and how he'd feel rather than being so competitive to remove the bra. Jisung pulls back and mumbles, "How does that work?"

"You've tried it enough for two weeks," you kiss him. "It's going to work."

"Is this a test?"

"Consider it," you sigh. "You're really killing the mood again, boy," you frown, before straightening up your spine and looking at him, "It's just a bra. Why are you so goddamn hung up over it?"

He confesses finally, "Because I saw some stupid article the day after I said everything. It told me that girls love it and that it'd make them happy."

Figures. You called out on this a week back.

You cup Jisung's face, a bit taken aback by his response, "But you make me happy either way."

"I—"

"Sungie," you press your forehead against his, smiling at how your boyfriend's eyes sparkle so brightly, "You're still going to be my star always. My sunshine."

You kiss Jisung, laughing against his lips when he coos at you. His hands are warm against that long brown sweater – way too long for you – you have always borrowed from him. He kisses you, his hands making way under his sweater, trailing slowly upwards as he draws out his kiss.

You know what he's trying to do and you choose to ignore, praying to all the gods out there that your boyfriend succeeds. He places his fingers on one side of the clasp and your thumb on the other. He moves towards your neck, peppering kisses against so as to distract you. He pinches both the sides together, sliding the right side against the left, freeing hooks from the eyelets. He pulls back from you, lips leaving your skin, at the same time your bra is undone.

"Bro," he stretches the syllable and you laugh, eyes wrinkling, commenting, "You sound like a white teenager."

"And you don't when you do?"

"Touché."

"But I did it," he screams, hugging you tight. The intensity at which he is joyous almost makes it seem like he won something great but that's Jisung for you. "I did it!"

"You did, baby! You did."

He kisses you again. Your boyfriend is so happy that he is smiling against your lips, breaking the kiss but he doesn't care and nor do you. He cradles your face in his hands, pulling back and laughs, "Hey, maybe we can sex tonight after all."

"Oh fuck, don't kill the mood. The last thing I want is Jeongin's catchphrase right before me getting hammered by my boyfriend after weeks."

"Like you haven't mentioned you don't want him around once?"

You flail your hands upwards in defense only to wrap it around Jisung and kiss him shut, mumbling against his lips, "Not today." Your lips tug onto his lower ones, latching onto it before pulling back and gazing at him. You could see how beautiful he was - his rosy lips that are parted and his nose that is good enough to bop. Han Jisung is a beauty carved from the finest and you are glad to call him yours.

"Fuck," he swears under his breath. You smile widely, eyes turning into crescents as he gazes at you, mumbling, "You're all mine, wow. I'm a lucky lucky man." You laugh, mumbling, "Yeah, you are." and lift your hand. Stretching your index finger, you poked his head, pushing it back, parietal bone hitting the bed's headboard.

Jisung gulps, his eyes turning a shade darker. You lean forward, catching Jisung midway for a kiss. You hold his face, guiding and directing the kiss, being forceful and trying to show the dominance you clearly lacked. Jisung always leads and you're hoping he takes back the reins soon.

And he does. Just as you prayed. His hands are on your hips, gripping it harder, his leg wrapping over yours in one swift motion and he has you pinned under him, hot air fanning over your face and you're giggling. Jisung frowns at you before kissing your pinna and mumbling, pouting, "You lost weight, babe. You need to eat more."

"I've been busy with this project," you respond and brush his hair.

"I'll take you out for a fancy dinner tonight after this."

"You think we could go?"

"Uh huh," he kisses your neck, sucking on the skin lightly sending tingles down your spine. "We could. I want to treat my favorite girl to some sexy food."

"I love you."

He kisses you in response not so gently, immediately coaxing your mouth open to allow his tongue inside. His hands forget all about being slow and teasing, the stress of not having you for two weeks straight sending him desperate, running all over your body, before pausing.

"This one goes off," he tugs at his sweater that you are wearing, pulling it off of you only to gasp at your covered breasts. "That bra looks beautiful on you, fuck."

He stares at the wine purple bra hardly covering your breasts now that the strap was off, ready to fall off any minute from now. Jisung gapes at how beautiful they make your breasts look before tugging it off, mumbling, "I like you better without anything though."

One of his warm hands covers your breast, fingers slowly digging into the skin. His palm squeezes your breast, thumb running over your nipple before he purposefully leans down and gives you a taste of his warm mouth for the first time that night and in weeks now. You gape open at the contact of his mouth on your nipple, teeth purposely grazing against the skin.

"I missed you doing this," you gasp for air, hand holding onto his hair for grip and to angle him slightly. Jisung hasn't bothered every time you push yourself onto him, aching and craving for more. If anything, it's always made the bulge more prominent. "You stupid boy focussed on a thing that weren't necessary like unhooking a bra when we could — ah, fuck, Jisung." He rolls his tongue over your nipple, your hand tightening around his scalp, tugging at his hair furiously. "Yes!"

He lets go of your nipple only to raise himself upwards and hover over your face. He bites your bottom lip, small kitten licks before sucking it into his mouth and you respond with a weak whimper before pulling away, breathing loud and clear and vivid enough for your chest to rise and fall.

His large hands trace along your spine, his palms trailing along your covered flesh, the figure that's carved into his head, a memory attested forever that he's glad for. Every single one of his touches sets your skin aflame with desire. Heat settles deep within the deepest cores of your abdomen, the heat slowly trailing downward stimulating your glands to release secretions that make your panties cling to your core. You moan when you feel his hardening shaft against the soft of your abdomen, involuntarily grinding against it. Your movements cause him to let out a grunt, limited and constrained, and he groans out your name.

He moves lower, tugging at the straps of your panties with his teeth, grazing the skin around it, sending goosebumps sprouting. You laugh post the rush, "You're good at this though. Like really good, Jisung."

"I know," he laughs against your skin. "Need to have you keeping me around. What if you decided a vibrator's better than me?"

You laugh loudly, hand falling on your chest, "Pretty sure a vibrator can't kiss me and love me like you do, baby."

Your mouth parts open when he kisses you, his lips brushing against the skin covering the bones and you let out a set of breathy moans, heat pooling deep within your pubic region as you find yourself growing wetter when Jisung kisses you around your acetabulum. He tugs your panties down partially with his teeth, fingers helping him out till he gets completely away from your skin.

He lifts himself up, throwing his shirt away. Dipping his head down, his attention is back on his favorite spot on your neck by your prominent jugular. Jisung kisses your neck, whispering sweet nothings into you. His hand lowers and lands on your inner thighs, goosebumps rising from your flesh and you gasp.

“Fuck," he swears under his breath. His fingers are dangling so close to your core that he can feel your arousal by your thighs. "You’re so fucking wet,” Jisung mutters, only to laugh and comment, "Maybe I should have fucked you.”

"Should have," you whine. "But guess what? My boyfriend's fucking— Ah!"

He absent-mindedly plays with strings of your arousal, coating his palms and fingers. You gasp at the sudden contact. Twisting and turning his fingers, he gathers up the dangling strings of arousal, before bringing it to his mouth and licking it clean. His gaze is still fixated on yours.

"Fuck you."

"Sure. On it, babe."

Tauntingly, he continues teasing your cunt — the tip of his finger lightly pressing against the entrance, but never enough to fully enter you. Each small action has you moving forward in pleasure as you try to push against his hand in an attempt to sink his finger into you. Jisung chuckles, kissing your clavicle, biting into the skin above and sucking furiously enough to mark you. He licks the mark before kissing down your clavicle.

He runs his finger through your core, collecting more of your juices onto his digit, before teasingly entering you barely. You find yourself hissing and bucking, your entrance twitching around the tip of his finger responsively.

“Jisung,” you whine, pushing your core further into his hand. “Please,” you implore, beg. You're desperate enough and two weeks of no contact has left you unhinged. The sensation of the pad of his thumb swiping against your swollen, needy clit causing you to buck into him, your cunt soon contracting around nothing. He pushes himself up and lowers down your body to meet your core. Your core involuntarily clenches, releasing another gush of wetness, pooling down the skin and staining his bedsheets messily.

"Your clothes—" you point, tugging at his pants. "Off, hoe," you sigh. "Now."

"Not yet," he rasps. "Need to give you that orgasm I owe you."

"Ah!" You sigh pleasantly. Jisung moans, shuddering under your fingertips. “My girl is all pretty and wet all for me," he mewls. His fingers trace small circles further into your slit, until his digits are teasing your entrance again. A low mewl falls from your lips, your hips writhing into his hand and you try to get him to push his fingers into you now.

“Jisung, shut with the teasing, you bitch,” you murmur, not even bothering to hide the want in your voice exhibiting now through annoyance, along with the greed for so much more. He laughs at your name calling, against your skin, nose brushing against your skin and with a kiss to your mound, his digits lightly push against the tightness of your entrance. He relishes and dwells himself in the way you tighten around just for him. You are just for him. A being he has been blessed with that's made for him just as he is for you. His eyes sparkle in mirth at your core clenching and unclenching involuntarily around him. You whine, “Fuck," trying to tighten around his digit as much as possible, almost as if you think your orgasm is going to rush in just by the sheer touch of your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend pushes one and then another finger into you. Your wetness allows them to slide in with ease and he gasps at how the jagged inner walls of yours feel — a memory he wishes he could remember every time. Somehow he's glad he can't because every single moment with you feels like a first time for him. The rush and excitement is unmatched. Drawing raspy breaths from you, he slowly begins pumping them into you. With each movement, you feel your entrance open and close, your eyes rolling back at the sensation. He pumps them into you, relishing every moan and swear word that leaves your lips. It's perhaps the very fact that you haven't had sex with him for so long that makes you want him more than ever, your arousal evident and dripping around, coating his finger.

He breathes in the scent of your arousal deeply, pressing kisses against your skin, softly at first before it turns into intense ones, licking and sucking on them to make a visible mark against them, staining your mound with purple and dark red hues.

“I fucking love you, man,” His voice is low, dropping a couple of octaves, and the deep sound that turns deeper every single time he whispers, thrums against your skin, before kissing against the skin again. You are so close to breaking down from just his breath against you, gripping on his hair so hard that you are worried you're going to rip his hair out. “Yes, yes, yes,” leaves your lips and letting out an appreciative groan, Jisung slides his fingers deeper into you till his knuckles touch the sides of your core and you are gasping, taking in heavy breaths of air, eyes squeezing shut.

“You're literally swallowing me,” Jisung breathily whispers against your core, pressing a butterfly kiss against your clit. His words cause you to clench involuntarily, squeezing around him tightly and then his mouth is against your core, more specifically your clit, licking on it, before sucking, inappropriate sounds hitting off the walls, eliciting a choked moan from you.

You are about to say a word before Jisung curls his fingers up into you and your back arches slightly at the rush that it sends, a moan leaving your lips loudly as you scream out, “Sungie!”

You feel him rubbing against the same spot that brings the loudest reaction from you — a discovery he makes every time all over again — before dragging his fingers back slowly only to slip his fingers easily into you again, the slick of your arousal dripping down your thighs, making a mess.

"Wet and dripping. I’ll give you what you want, baby. You were so patient with me.” He rubs your walls, his attention undivided on your enlarged clit and your hips gyrate with him, thrusting and chasing after his fingers desperately.

He lifts himself up – his hand still rubbing against your spot – trailing kisses upwards till he latches onto your mouth, tugging at your lower lip. He delves into your mouth, tangling with your tongue. The sensations are heightened, your head unable to focus on either. Breaking from the kiss, you cry out against his lips, your breaths heavily intermingling together. Jisung uses his other hand to hold your jaw and angle your head in such a way that your foggy gaze is fixed on his sharp ones and your mouth opens slightly.

"Come for me, babe," he urges. His command, along with the way his fingers rub across your clit, has you crossing off of the brink of pleasure and into an oblivion for the first time that night and in weeks. You see the stars as you squint your eyes shut forcefully, breathing loud and shallow as you chant your boyfriend's name like a mantra. You need a moment to calm down from how good that orgasm is and Jisung slowly rubs you through your high.

Skin flushing with heat and covered in sweat, you feel electric sparks jolt across your flesh under your skin as bright ecstasy rumbles in your veins all over again as your boyfriend rubs your clit vigorously. In a split second without any heed or warning, his mouth is still on you. He flicks your clit with a snap of his finger and instantly, your muscles lock up, your nerves oversensitized. Tears spill from the corner of your eyes and you tug at Jisung's hair, face falling to the side as you bite into your lower lip.

Out of breath almost instantly, Jisung hovers over you, cupping your face with one hand of his and kissing you, wiping your tears away. You breathe in his air as he kisses you, your jaw slackens sadly once he leaves. You let out a loud whineful cry as a powerful orgasm powers through you again, his hand leaving yours for a minute as you squirt on being overstimulated. Your thighs quake violently as your back raises and arches upwards slightly. Your boyfriend's other arm wraps around your back as he kisses you through your heightened orgasm, helping you settle down. Your muscles tremble and ache and soon you find your hips halting their movement as you lose yourself into pleasure, squirting slowly receding. His hand is covered in your juices, glistening in the light of the room and he chuckles against your lips after pulling back, placing you lightly on your back.

“That was so fucking hot,” he looks at you proudly, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyes are squeezed shut post that powerful orgasm, thick rivers of tears staining your cheeks. He moves only after your eyes open, making sure you’re alright and able to breath right.

"You're a bitch, dude," you barely let out. "But I love you."

Once you collect your breath, you move down his body, overcome with the need to please your boyfriend, to please this beautiful man who just made you come twice on his tongue, overstimulated you enough to make you squirt, embarrassing the hell out of your being. You hastily grip the hem of his sweats and begin to pull them down.

Jisung pushes himself backwards instinctively when you lift yourself up. You hold his shoulders, body still trembling from the after effects of your last orgasm and ask, "On your back, please."

"Baby, you don't— It's all you today."

"Yeah, and so let me."

Jisung lays on his back on your command and you kneel between his legs. He pulls himself upwards, one arm bending to support him and the other resting beneath his head to support his head up. He watches you position yourself between his thick thighs, practically drooling at the sight of his large cock. He finally lies there completely naked, a small smile dancing on his lips at the sight of you, skin glowing in the dim light of the room, soft music from the neighbours you are grateful for, muscles straining slightly despite his relaxed state, belly button piercing twinkling every now and then as the light hits the metal.

You take his cock into your mouth, working him in small portions. You remember how intimidated you had felt the first night you tried giving your boyfriend a head. Even though Jisung was kind enough to praise you through it, cradling and caressing you throughout, it was hard. With a girth as thick as his and mouth as small as yours, it was bound to be hard. With time, you learned of the ways to take his cock like an absolute professional, though it still managed to overwhelm you at certain times, if he really wanted to give it to you good. Not that you minded. You doubt you'd ever mind it when it's Han Jisung.

You bob your head, mouth coating his skin in your saliva, as your hand works what you can’t reach yet, encasing it in your grip. Above your head, Jisung is sighing, coral pouty lips parting and clenching his jaw as he watches his cock disappear inch by inch into your pretty, pink mouth, enjoying the sight of your lips wrapped so warmly around him. He loves watching you take him slowly. Jisung loves it so much that he thinks if he could stamp one memory forever or take a picture to treasure, it is this. One of his hands slips down to grip at your hair, only holding it back loosely for now, not applying any pressure. He loves seeing you like this as much as he wouldn't agree to you directly but he thinks you know. You seem like you know. Yet again, there is nothing you don't know about him.

“Fuck, baby,” he sighs out when you take more of him in and suck firmly on your way back up, licking at the head and sucking on it leisurely, tongue lapping at the sensitive pink skin of his length. He curses once again, huffing out a heavy breath, going delirious at the sight of you bobbing on his length. The rise of his chest begins to increase its pace and his body begins to build up a sweat all over again.

He groans loudly when you go down once again, taking in the most that you’ve had so far. Your eyes are closed, hair out of your way and your tongue is at against his length. His arm supports his body and he sits up. You feel the movement and you quickly open your eyes, pulling away and moving upwards hastily. You attempt to pull him out of your mouth to see if you did anything wrong. However, he places his hand firmly to the back of your head — you feel the large hand cover most of your head, hand gripping on a ponytail he has made and fixates your head exactly where it is.

“Keep going, please,” he breathes out and your pussy practically melts at that, as you look up at Jisung, his eyelids half closing in pleasure, his grip on your hair getting tighter. He glistens in the dim light, body shining from the sweat and you press your tongue flat against his tongue suddenly and he jerks.

“Fuck your mouth is, shit—“ he pauses to groan, pushing your mouth further down and you try to fight your gag reflex as much as possible. “This is what heaven feels like, baby. This is heaven on Earth.”

He takes control of your movements now. Being the soft dominant human being he is, he clutches your hair tightly to guide your mouth on his cock as he pleases. He eventually begins to buck his hips up to fuck your mouth, the explicit stickling sound of your saliva coating his cock every time he moves, resonating and bouncing off the walls. You're gagging heavily, trying to breathe properly through your nose. Saliva is dripping down your chin because of his length which is so big that you know you'd never be able to take him without activating your gag reflex. Your eyes roll over before your eyelids shut and Jisung's controlling your movements completely now.

“Love this pretty mouth of yours, baby,” he groans, pushing your head as far down as you could go. You choke a bit, letting out a stunned noise, one out of breath but you grip his thighs in an attempt to calm yourself and relax, despite the tears stinging your eyes at your gag reflex kicking in. Jisung slows down his movements, letting go of your hair but you refuse to move. You grab his hand before he could let go of you and you place it back over your head. He smiles and guides you again.

Your arousal drips down your core again and down your thighs, and you can’t help but push yourself forward. Your rear is pushing back against nothing but sheer want and lust for the man before you and his eyes catch onto the sight of your supple soft skin up in the air while your mouth is still locked on his cock. The entire position makes him lust over this woman before him that he proudly calls his.

“You’re so pretty,” he pants, eyes fluttering for a second when you suck on him harder, tongue licking a stripe along the underside of his dick all the way to its head, taking it home. Your hand grips on his balls, carressing it lightly under your fingertips when you feel it tightening. You know he's close and so you suck at the tip of his head furiously, letting out grunts from Jisung's lips, leaving them so deliriously that it has you moving quicker, jumping your groin into nothing. He finally pulls you off his cock, still gripping your hair firmly.

You cough for a while, stained aftermath of saliva on the corner of your lips. Your eyes are teary, some spilling from the corners and your lips are swollen. Jisung somehow, weirdly likes it. He loves seeing you fucked out for him over his cock. He loves seeing your slight makeup haphazard and your entire being disoriented for him. He thinks he's a fucking masochist because he wants to make you cry on his cock — cry for his cock.

"Why?" Your voice is parched as you manage to ask. "You were close."

He pulls you close, tugging at your arm and you fall on top of his chest. He kisses your nose and smiles, wiping the tears away from the corner of your eyes before whispering, "Need to come inside of you, baby."

And he flips you over in the flash of a second and you are under him for the second time that night, ready for a million times for the rest of your life. You kiss him, your shaking hands cupping his face, rubbing small circles into the side with your thumb.

Jisung holds one of your legs by its underside and lifts it above, placing it on your shoulder. You prop your body slightly upwards, ache residing by the joints and Jisung kisses the skin at your acetabulum. He brushes his cock against your cunt and a harsh swear leaves his pretty lips. The tip brushes your clit, tingles running down your spine. Your nails dig into his hand by your side, holding onto the bedsheet and you gasp.

He slides in slowly, letting you get used to his girth and familiarise yourself with it. He pushes it in agonisingly slow and it adds further to the sensuality. The stretch causes you to curl your toes in ecstasy. With your leg over his shoulder, heels digging into the skin by his scapula, the way he is holding you allows him to move deeper, sliding in until you can feel him by your deepest parts and his thighs are pressed against your purple bruised ones. He bends forward and you watch your boyfriend.

Fuck, you love him. So much.

His face is soft and yet so affectionate, his features molded from the divine being, flawless and perfect. Jisung is panting in your ears, the grunt soft and echoing in your eardrums, amplifying on their way to your cochlea and you surround yourself in him. His muscles are tense and the words come out in a low, deep tone, "Fuck, you're swallowing me as a whole. Baby, you are so pretty."

He kisses your lips, ceasing his movements for a while in your wet warmth, whispering against them, "I'm so lucky, so lucky, so lucky—"

He pushes once more to go deeper if it's possible and you moan loudly. He watches your eyes squeeze shut and he can't believe that you're all for him, made for him just as he was for you. You squeeze around him unknowingly and he swears under his breath, his grip on your hip tightening. He knows he could come with you just wrapped around him perfectly, with all your warmth encasing him like he's lucky. He grits his teeth and pulls out. When he slams into you again, his pubic bone hitting your nether region, balls slapping against your arse, you scream. He's close already from you giving a phenomenal head and now when you're squeezing him like your life depended on it, he knows he's going to lose his sanity to you.

Jisung picks up a pace. It is fast and hard and has you gripping onto him for the life of yours. Your hips move along to match his pace and when your moans get excessive, he locks his lips with yours, owning every one of them and making them his. You scream louder into his mouth, muffled screams slipping out. You can feel him twitching against your wall and the whine that leaves you is muffled by his mouth again.

"I want to see you come again, baby," he mumbles, pushing into you, jerking you up. "I want to see you come undone because of me. All around me."

He lets go of your leg, feeling your leg move unsteadily because of the ache that rests in your joints, and moves his hand over your clit. He taps on your clit at a steady pace and you fill your mind slowly coming undone, like a pearl necklace ready to snap. His mouth is against your ear, licking a stripe at the cartilage before whispering into it, "Look at you. So fucking pretty. You're a—" He thrusts into you, hitting a spot that has you shuddering down on him fighting an urge to come undone so quickly, both you and him that Jisung has to catch his breath for a second there. "—my goddess. You're perfect for me. Need to see you come undone under my touch. Need to see you break into a vulnerable mess because of my touch. Need you to wrap around me perfectly."

Tears spill from the corner of your eyes and it's all too much. Your senses are heightened and you feel his warmth around you perfectly and in you completely. Your hand finds its way back to Jisung's hair, tugging at the ones by his nape, digging into the skin by his neck before travelling to messily hold at his scapula, arm falling over his shoulders.

"Please, fuck— please, Sungie," you cry. "Want you, need you, need you, need yo—"

Your boyfriend grunts, his grip firmer than a second before, his stomach quivering and his hips striking, picking up momentum until he's pounding you against the warmth of your bed, the bed making sounds of creeking occasionally as it pushes backwards and falls back forward. You wrap your legs around his waist, hips moving upwards wildly because you know you're close and you know Jisung is too.

He kisses you, passionate and fiery. Your brain feels fuzzy, your consciousness diminishing. Your fucked out expression is the one look that he knows he'd want to get it sketched. Your eyes hooded, cheeks flushed, face glistening in sweat, lips swollen and red and parted, with moans leaving them so softly that he knows he's ruined for. You are whining, moans leaving your lips one after another in no particular order of vocal range — occasionally screaming so loud that you know the nice lady across the hall is going to give you a earful tomorrow morning — when his cock slams into the same spot that has you losing your mind and it snaps.

"Fuck, Jisung!" You come around his cock, the white flash spreading under your eyelids and you're weeping, desperately, mercilessly. The tears in your eyes fall at that, the combination of sensations you’re experiencing right now too much to handle and Jisung quickly catches onto it with an almost sinister chuckle. Your heart swells and you feel the rushing oxytocin clouding your brain, filling you with nothing but love for Jisung.

Jisung continues thrusting into you, chasing after his own orgasm. He still whispers into your ear that makes you bloom in confidence, "There, baby. You're doing so well. That's my girl." You know that he is close and so you hold him tight, squeezing around his girth and your boyfriend moans. You kiss his neck, leaving marks on his skin as you bend forwards. His hips stutter widely and a deep groan fills your ears. You can faintly feel it as he comes undone in the sheath you are. It's pulsating, warm and hot and he holds himself in you, thrusting slowly and languidly to come down from his high, moaning into you.

His lips constantly peck yours, over and over again, lazily giving you gentle kisses as you feel his come leak out of you, once he pulls out of you, humming a soft tune against you, his voice surrounding you. He moves to lie beside you, pulling you to lie on your side in front of him, continuing to kiss you lazily as he begins to sneak his tongue into your mouth, leg draping over yours, arm wrapping around your middle to pull you closer to him and press your body completely to his, gently stroking your sweaty hair back.

The whole situation is a mess but there is something so domestic and warm about this, about Jisung just holding you in moments after sex.

You do the same, snuggling closer to him, enjoying the soft treatment and the gentle feel of his lips, your hands tracing his shoulders and biceps before going to his chest and sneakily tracing down to his belly button, poking the metal piercing. You pull away for a second with a tired giggle.

“You know,” you murmur, voice hoarse for all kinds of reasons clearly. “You’re really hot and all but this," you kiss his nose, "This is why I keep you around."

“What a bitch," he laughs. "A bitch I love a bit too much."

"Aw," you coo. "I love you too, babe."

"What's this, Jisung?"

You point at the beautiful packaged box, also tied with yet another beautiful red ribbon. It is surrounded by fresh rose petals in the side. Having known Jisung for years now, you are not completely wrong when you suspect something fishy. It's not even Valentine's.

"I swear to God, Sungie, if this is some weird shit—"

He raises his hands in defense, leaning against the doorpost, waiting for you to open the gift. He has a smug expression on his face, so ready to tease the crap out of you.

You pull the ribbon out and open the lid of the box, only to find a thong in it. A bright red colored one. You pick it up, holding the string between your thumb and your forefinger only to find the vibrator attached to it and the words, 'It Ain't Gonna Lick Itself,' on the fabric.

"You bastard."

And you chase after him, your hand stretched forward after throwing the thong back onto the bed. Jisung's already sprinting away from the bedroom and into the hall, jumping on the sofas to get away from you. You're laughing, finding the whole situation extremely ridiculous just as much as the present is; chasing after your boyfriend like you were five. And when you scream at your boyfriend as to why, all he has to say is —

"It's your fault. You were the one whining about not spicing up our sex life, babe."

"That was you!"

#stray kids smut #han smut #jisung smut #skz smut #han jisung smut #kpop smut #writings.rue

[shorkbrian]

Thirsty for Tendou, also vibrators

(Warnings - NSFW, no penetrative sex, just a lot of overstim with a wand. Non con, slight mention of urine. Bad writing as always lol ignore all of that ksjdhd)

“Oh god, oh please, no no no-“

“Ah ah ah-“ Tendou tutted “You were bad. This is what happens to bad girls.”

You were frogtied on your back, knees pressed firmly to the tabletop you rested upon. Cuffs and a strong chain kept your arms stretched above your head, immovable. You were completely at Tendou’s mercy.

Tendou, who was holding a hitachi in his hand.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry. Please, I’ll do anything, please! Not this-not this.” You begged, body trembling.

You’d been through this once already, tied up since yesterday. The redhead had untied you a couple times to take you to the bathroom and make you drink water, but he had been sadistic today. The back of your thighs were itchy, burning with discomfort from being forced to lie still in a puddle of your own piss. It was humiliating.

Still, you could handle it.

What you could not handle, was what was coming next.

“I said I’m sorry, please! Oh god, oh God no-god please!”

“Yes?” Tendou asked teasingly, leaning over you. He waved the hitachi teasingly in front of you, eyes focusing on the mess between your legs. “Oh, poor baby pissed herself!”

You sobbed.

“Please, I can’t take any more, I learned my lesson! I promise, please don’t use that, you don’t need to.“ You were pleading, begging with the man, desperate to not go through the same overwhelming experience as yesterday.

He had tied you up, nestled the hitachi between your legs, and edged you over and over. At the end you had been promising anything, if only he would let you cum.

Tendou straightened, a smile flashing across his face. “Ah! That’s good! But-“ he leaned close again, nibbling at your ear “-daddy still wants to play.”

The hitachi buzzed to life in his hand, and you shivered.

“I can’t do that again, daddy-oh god, please-please don’t!”

When the hitachi was pressed to your cunt, spreading your lips, you screamed.

Just as soon as it had touched your pussy, it disappeared, instead being moved to press down against your mons, hard. The vibrations traveled deep, a pleasant, manageable pressure.

“You were so naughty, I can’t just let you off easy. If I did, you might try to bite my dick off again.” When he smiled at you, lips stretched wide, his eyes were cold as steel, threatening.

Tendou had been furious when you had tried to bite his length the other day. The man should’ve known better than to force himself on you.

The hitachi was returned to your pussy, Tendou rubbing it firmly against your opening, making you squirm.

“I can’t do this, it’s too much, it’s too much, it’s too much-“ You were a broken record, chanting out the words. You threw your head back, closing your eyes. The sensation was too much, too intense, so pleasurable that it bordered on the edge of pain, dancing and skipping back and forth over that line.

“Oh, should Daddy stop?”

“Yes, yes oh god, please stop. No more, I’ll be good.”

You were desperate. Tendou pretended to contemplate your words for a moment, tapping his chin with one hand. Then he tapped your nose, grinning.

“I think Daddy’s gonna keep going. You sound like a little puppy when you get overwhelmed and it’s so cute.”

Your stomach dropped off a cliff, and you teared up immediately. No matter how much you begged, Tendou wasn’t going to let up.

Constantly trying to writhe and scoot away from the ever-present buzz of the wand was exhausting, and soon you could do nothing but lay there. Tears began flowing down your face when Tendou upped the vibration, a strangled yelp breaking free from your throat.

Tendou brightened.

“See?! Like that! Good puppy.”

He ran the bulbous head of the wand over your clit, alternating between gentle and hard presses. It was overwhelming, and soon you were screaming, pulling at your ties.

“Daddy, o-oh! No no no, stop stop stop, I can’t-I can’t! Ah!”

An orgasm washed through you, buzzing through your veins in time with the vibrator. Tendou kept gliding it around your cunt, pressing it hard to your entrance, tapping the head at your clit, massaging your labia with the wand. You couldn’t take it.

“Ah, mmm, no more, please no more.” You whined, exhausted, body tingly and overstimulated. It felt like your nerves were fried, everywhere except for your soft cunt.

Tendou laughed as you begged, teasing you by swiping some of your slick onto his fingers in between passes of the wand.

“Little puppy can’t stop making messes, can she? First you piss all over yourself, and now this?”

With you eyes squeezed tightly shut, you didn’t see him bring his wet fingers to his mouth. Unfortunately, you heard the sucking sounds as he licked them clean.

“Mm, tasty! Maybe I’ll take a break in an hour or so, have a little snack, hm?”

You sobbed.

The wand kicked up a notch, and Tendou was working his wrist speedily, practically fucking you with the wand, pushing the head into your hole, it’s way eased by the copious amounts of your creamy slick.

He’d pop it out, rub it furiously at your clit, then hold it there, pinching your hood back so you were forced to feel the full brunt of the strong vibrations.

You were wailing, shuddering, breaths shaky and broken. It was too strong, too fast, too much! You screamed as much at the man torturing you. He just cocked his head, thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Poor puppy can’t take it, can she? Naughty little thing. You keep gushing and creaming around nothing though, maybe I should stick my cock in you while I help your little clitty feel good?”

A hand rubbed at your thigh, and you almost screamed, hypersensitive. “I’ve never played with toys while inside before.” Tendou continued. “Bet it feels like a little slice of heaven.”

He was holding the wand firmly in place now, letting you move your hips around it. It was obvious that you were working to retreat from the stimulation, but your writhing and wriggling only served to grind you further onto the wet, vibrating wand.

You felt floaty, your limbs felt funny and weightless, like as if you had jumped on a trampoline and were suspended in the air, butterflies in your stomach as you waited to fall down to earth.

Another orgasm tore through you, and it was painful, pussy clenching around nothing. You couldn’t think past the constant buzzing at your cunt.

You let out a screech as Tendou still refused to pull the hitachi away. Embarrassingly enough, you realized he was right; you sounded like a squeaking little puppy with your “Ah! Ah! Ah! Mmmmh! Oh, unh, unh, mmfh!”

But the sounds were spilling out, you couldn’t control them. You couldn’t control yourself.

At some point, you lost track of how many times you came from Tendou’s ministrations.

All you knew, was that when he finished, you couldn’t feel your limbs, body fuzzy and tingly, sensitive and overstimulated to the point where even the air touching you was too much.

Tendou switched off the vibe, coming to stand near your head so he could lean down and give you a quick kiss.

“I love you puppy.” His voice was soft, endearing. You were too out of it to even notice.

Fingers ran through your hair, untwisting the tangled bits from where you had thrown your head about. And then the fingers were trailing down you body, back to your cunt. They left burning fire in their wake, painful prickles that felt like the heat of a sunburn.

The fingers stopped right at your pubic bone.

“Ah, would you look at the time-“ Tendou stretched out his wrist, pretended to check the time despite not having a watch on either wrist. “-time for snackies!”

A sly, low giggle escaped as he bent down, ready to suck at your puffy, abused pussy until he drowned in it.

You think you’re gonna pass out.

#Tendou #tendou satori #yandere #gross fic #idk what to tag #yandere haikyuu #dark haikyuu #dark Tendou #yandere Tendou #playtime #poor reader lol #haikyuu fic #haikyuu one shot #tendou imagine #tendou smut #tendou drabble #hq tendou #tendon saturn #lool #his name is so weird but I love it #unhealthy relationship

[navegandoaciegas]

Lock and Key

Pairing: priest!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You own the key to Father James’ pleasure, quite literally.

Warnings: smut, explicit language, 18+ content, oral sex (f receiving), orgasm control (chastity cage), dom!reader, one slap on the face, unprotected sex. It’s all consensual.

Father James is on his knees, head hung low, chestnut tendrils framing his stubbled cheeks.

He’s a sobbing, trembling mess, naked except for the cross around his neck, the collar that chains him to the handcuffs around his wrists, and the chastity cage that’s been restricting his aching cock for days.

The shiny, golden lock sits prettily against the coarse hair on his pubic bone, its matching key perched between your tits, tantalizing him.

A needy whimper shakes his body when you spread your legs, revealing your glistening cunt to his hungry eyes.

“Such a sinner, aren’t you, Father? Breaking your vows like this,” you tut, shaking your head, “You want to touch me, don’t you? Want to feel my tight pussy around your cock, want to fill me up with your cum and watch it drip out of my hole?”

“God, yes, please. Please,” he whines, so desperately that you almost give in. You can’t let him yet: he needs the control you have over him, and the punishments you put him through, just as much as you do.

“Let me feel you, touch you, please angel,” he keeps blabbering, tears pooling in his crystal eyes, “I need you. Let me please you, I’ll be so good to you, I promise.”

“You know you’ve gotta work for that, baby boy,” you hum, cocking your head to the side, “Be a good puppy and show me how bad you want me.”

He nods eagerly, and crawls toward his desk, settling himself at your feet between your spread legs. He inhales a deep breath, and looks at you through half lidded eyes, waiting for your permission.

“Go ‘head.” you urge him.

He doesn’t waste any time before he dives in your dripping wet cunt, delving his tongue in your folds. He eats you out like a starved man, lapping at every drop of your tangy arousal.

The pressure builds steadily in your lower belly, until your walls are burning and throbbing and you’re barely coherent.

“Fuck, baby, you’ve gotten so good at this.” you moan, clutching his hair and tugging at the roots, eliciting a low growl out of him.

The vibration travels straight to your core, making your walls clench around nothing.

You grind your hips against his face, fucking yourself on his pretty pink lips and moaning like a possessed woman, loud enough that God himself could hear you.

“Yes, yes, just like that,” you hiss through gritted teeth, arching your back when he licks a straight line from your entrance to your bud, “Fuck, harder.”

He doubles his efforts then, moaning on your pussy, latching on your swollen clit, teeth barely grazing the sensitive skin around it. He sucks on the bud, tongue swirling between your lips.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, yes,” you shriek, throwing your head back and biting down on your lower lip.

The orgasm is earth shattering, and shakes you from the core to your limbs. The tight coil in your belly snaps, and you gush on his face, covering his mouth and chin with your slick as praises fall from your lips.

Your good boy, perfect, sweet boy.

You see him tug against the handcuffs, accidentally choking himself. A high pitched cry of frustration leaves his lips as he ruts his hips forward, chasing a release he can’t reach. You know it makes him feral, arousal clouding his judgement.

He hasn’t been able to touch his cock, or have a hard on, in days, and he won’t until you decide to let him.

You’re the key to his pleasure, but you intend to keep him caged and desperate a little longer.

“Two more, puppy. I’m sure you can give me two more, don’t you think so?”

He gets to work immediately, and your chuckle at his eagerness.

His tongue prods at your entrance, and he swipes his nose over your clit. Lewd noises soon fill the office. He keeps sucking, lapping, slurping you up until you’re shaking and singing his name, completely debauched.

He brings you over the edge again, and your vision almost blacks out at the intensity of your orgasm.

“Fuck, look at you, so fuckin’ pretty on your knees,” you pant, grunting when he resumes working your cunt with his tongue, “What would the people say if they saw their priest-, fuck, yes, right there-, their priest eat some girl out in the back of the church, right after Sunday mass? No fuckin’ shame you have, puppy. Cross still around your neck.”

Your clit is tender and overstimulated, and his stiff tongue on it is making you writhe and double over above him.

“Couldn’t even wait till Monday,” you snarl, feeling the muscles of your lower belly tighten again, “couldn’t wait to get on your knees for me. I bet you’ve thought about me all weekend, haven’t you?”

You bite your lips, willing yourself to hold back your third orgasm, even though the pleasure he’s giving you is maddening.

“I bet you wanted to reach in your pants and stroke your cock thinking of me, but you couldn’t. Bet that was real frustrating.”

You grip his face, and he looks up at you, red faced and soaked in your release.

“Answer me when I talk to you,” you bark, slapping his face.

You never hit him hard enough to hurt him, just loud enough that the sound bounces off the walls, the way that makes his cock jump.

He whines, fidgeting on the spot, “Yes, I wanted to touch myself for you, angel.”

“Good boy, now gimme one more, and maybe I’ll free you and touch you myself, would you like that?”

“Yes, yes, please, angel, I’ll do anything.”

A slow, adorning smile spreads on your lips. You caress the sticky, sweaty hair away from his forehead as he brings his face between your legs again.

Kissing, worshipping your cunt until the knot in your core unravels, and you’re so overstimulated that your clit is tender and even his breath between your legs hurts.

You sit there, panting, James’ head resting on your lap.

“You’ve been so good, baby boy. So good for me.” you praise, lowering yourself to his level.

His eyes are blown out, darkened by lust, his cheeks are flushed and stained with dry tears, and his chest is heaving.

You twirl the golden key between your fingers, James’ eyes following the movements carefully.

“You deserve to feel good too,” you say, “It’s okay to feel good baby, you understand that?”

You bring his wrists to your lips, tenderly pecking the skin. He nods, lips wobbling a little.

“I need the reminder, sometimes.”

You make quick work of freeing him of the handcuffs and collar, trailing soft kisses from his shoulder to his collarbones, up to his neck, jaw, behind his ears, down again to his nipples, revelling in the way he shudders under your touch.

You roam your hands down to his abs, reaching for the steel cage around him.

“What do you want?” you ask, nibbling one of his stiff nipples between your teeth.

“Get me out, please. I want you so much.” he begs, brushing his knuckles over your hips.

You reach for the key around your neck, painstakingly slow. It clicks when you open the lock, and James takes a deep breath in anticipation. After unfastening the ring around his base and balls, you slip his soft cock out of the cage.

He groans in relief, resting his head in the crook of your neck as you stroke the velvety skin of his length in twisting motions.

The kiss you share is slow and sweet until it’s not, until blood flows back to his cock and he hardens in your hand, achingly swollen and leaking at the tip.

“Please, angel. I need you so bad, need to be inside you now. I’ll be good.”

You nod, and sit back on the desk, spreading your legs for him to settle between.

Your breath gets knocked out of you when he sheathes himself inside you, your slick walls fluttering and accommodating his girth.

You missed the stretch of his cock, the burn of it inside your pussy as he thrusts in and out of you, the slow build up to the throbbing pressure in your core.

You bite his skin, scratch his back, pinch his nipples. Praise him, love him.

His hands worship your body, tenderly caressing every inch of your skin.

“Please let me cum, angel, I need to cum inside you.” he whines, hips stuttering.

You feel him swell inside you, and your own orgasm near.

“Fuck, baby, cum inside me, lemme feel you, fill me up with all your fuckin’ cum.”

With a couple more thrusts, he cums inside you, filling you up to the brim with his release. His orgasm triggers your own, and you cling to his shoulders, eyes rolling to the back of your brain.

His pleasure wrecks him so much that he slumps against you, gasping for air. You can feel his heart beat wildly against your arm.

“Can you hold me?” he whispers, voice soft.

You stay locked in each others' embrace, basking in the warmth of your sweat slicked skin until you both start shiver, and dress again.

You help him in his cassock, fastening the white collar around your neck.

“Did you mean it? When you said I deserve to feel good?” he asks, rubbing his nose against yours.

You hum, pecking his lips.

“You deserve the world, baby boy.”

—

Read more priest!Bucky on my masterlist!

A/N: someone on ao3 suggested that punishment might help priest!bucky deal with the guilt of breaking his vows, and I couldn’t agree more! so this is the result.

I hope you guys liked it. Please leave some feedback!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan

[writerbyaccident]

Thrill Ride (Aged Up! Yandere Yo ShindoxFemReader)

Trigger Warning: lemon, noncon, fingering

Standing up on your tiptoes, you nearly jumped over the crowds in front of you to try to sneak a peak of what laid in the tunnel where the track disappeared into the dark. Rollercoasters of all kinds were a blast, but indoor rides had a special charm and mystery to them. The fact that you weren’t able to see how the track had been laid just made the whole experience more exciting, made the thrill all the more real.

           “I can’t believe I’m letting you guys drag me onto this one,” your friend fretted anxiously. “How am I supposed to know what’s about to happen?”

           “You don’t, that’s the best part!” you teased them.

           “Trust me,” your other friend added, “this one is no worse than the others you’ve gone on.”

           “If you say so,” she answered with a joking grumble. The three of you were silent for the next few minutes as you shuffled forward, slowly but surely approaching the front of the line. Practically bouncing on the balls of your feet, you almost squealed when it was your turn to find a row to ride in.

“How many in your party?” the operator asked, their tired voice hard to hear in the noisy room.

“Three,” your friend told them.

“Two in row four, one in row seven.” Frowning in confusion, you peered ahead and saw that there were in fact no empty cars next to each other. Sighing slightly, you turned to your friends and shrugged.

“I’ll go alone,” you said. “You guys go to row four.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll see you guys on the other side.”

Moving to row seven, you tried to peer down the tunnel again to see if the coaster was getting close yet. You were so focused on your attempt though, that you failed to notice when someone joined you in line. It wasn’t until you gave up on spotting the coaster and turned around to wave to your friends that you noticed who had joined you.

“Hi there,” the stranger grinned at you, his brown eyes gleaming.

“Oh, hi.”

“You don’t mind if I ride with you, do you?” he asked. “I think they’re just trying to pack in as many people as possible.”

           “Yeah, no problem,” you answered. This would hardly be your first time riding with a stranger and he at least didn’t seem to be a creep. He looked around your age, maybe a year or two older. Maybe he was even on his spring break for college too, you thought to yourself. Besides, you had to admit that he was cute.

           Even in the dim light, you could still see his sharply defined muscles, especially in the tight short-sleeve shirt that he wore. Worried that you were staring, you looked away and turned back to the track. But in doing so, you missed the way that your new companion was staring at you, as if you were a sweet treat that he had been waiting ages to devour. And in truth, he had been.

           When the coaster finally returned and the bars before the rows finally opened, you scrambled forward, the stranger close behind you, watching the way your legs moved beneath your short skirt with an eager hunger. As you two sat down, he took the opportunity to brush against your bare skin a few times, smiling apologetically when you glanced back at him.

           “I’m Shindo, by the way.” Leaning back to let one of the ride operators check the state of your safety bar, you gave him your own name, not realizing that he had known it for ages already.

           “So tell me,” Shindo asked as you waited for the park employees adjust a few last things, “what do you like about rollercoasters?”

           “Um, I guess it’s the thrill of it all. Not knowing what’s going to happen next, being pushed to such extremes.”

           “I knew you’d say that,” Shindo chuckled, his smile suddenly seeming less friendly and far more predatory.

           “What?” you asked in honest confusion. Before answering, Shindo glanced back at the ride operators, and seeing them giving each other the thumbs up, he decided to tell the truth. Half the fun of doing this today would be your reaction, after all.

           “Well, considering just how carefully I’ve watched over you,” he smirked, “I would hope that I know you pretty well by now.”

           “What—”

           “So don’t worry babe, I know just how to give you the thrill you’re looking for,” he murmured in your ear, his grin brushing against your neck. Heart hammering in your throat, you tried to call out to the workers, but before you could make a sound, the coaster sped off with you trapped next to Shindo.

           Shindo wasted no time in his task, immediately placing his hand your bare thigh and slowly reaching up to the edge of your skirt. It was then that you learned what Shindo’s quirk was.

           “Oh, god,” you whispered as your tormentor stroked your inner thigh with his vibrating fingers. The hum of his ministrations reached all the way down to your bones, and when he first brushes against your clothed cunt with those frustrating fingers of his, it was all you could do not to moan.

           “Aw, don’t be shy babe,” Shindo teased you as he rubbed the center of your panties in buzzing circles. “No one’s gonna hear you but me. And I want to hear you.”

           It was true, you realized. Even now the rollercoaster continued to race, rushing through the building at breakneck speed. With each sudden dip and each harsh turn, you could feel your stomach flip and your body begin to float. But shaking your head weakly, you pressed a hand over your mouth, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing the sounds you knew that you would make if you kept your mouth free. Keeping up that resolve was difficult though, with you getting wetter every second that Shindo touched you until your panties were virtually soaked.

           “See?” he whispered as the ride began to climb yet another hill. “You know what you need, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

           “Please,” you begged quietly. “Please just leave me alone.” Shindo didn’t even answer that plea of yours, instead watching your eyes grow glossy as the ride climbed the hill. And the moment that the coaster began to dip downwards, Shindo forced two of his fingers past the lips of your cunt.

           You had thought that the teasing buzz of his vibrating fingers was bad before, but it was nothing compared to how you felt now that he had slipped inside of you. Whimpering softly while your eyes fluttered closed, you felt each and every miniscule motion that he made. The adrenaline from your wild surroundings only seemed to make his movements more overpowering, overwhelming you as he curled and scissored his humming fingers inside of you.

           When Shindo reached that spongy inside of your desperate cunt, he let out a groan of his own, loving the way that your warm, soaking wet walls sucked his fingers even deeper into you. Smirking at how well your body knew just who it belonged to, he added his other hand into the mix, rolling your tight little bud between his vibrating fingers.

           The sensation was simply too much for you, you could no longer even try to hold back the moans that Shindo was tearing from your throat. The air continued to rush past you as lightness of your stomach joined with the heat at your core, and you felt your legs tremble at the intensity of it all. Your jaw had gone slack, and the sight was simply too tempting for Shindo to leave alone. Letting gravity pull him towards you as the ride took a sudden turn, he melded his lips to yours and slipped his tongue down your throat, swallowing each moan and whimper before you even made it.

           That didn’t mean that he eased off of you anywhere else though. No, the fingers of his left hand continued their humming dance inside of needy cunt while the fingers of his right continued to stroke your bud relentlessly. Heat rising and bubbling inside of you, you felt as though your whole body was vibrating with Shindo, the buzzing pleasure of it all making you forget the truth of what was happening.

           Then, just as you reached to peak of the ride’s final hill, the tension broke. Shaking fiercely, you let gravity drag you downwards while the rest of your body was flung to soaring heights. Shindo grinned at the sight of your eyes fluttering shut while your back arched instinctively. Only he could make you feel like this, he had known it from the start. And god, feeling you cum over his fingers like that gave him a rush that no other thrill could ever compare to.

           As the coaster began to slow down and approach the end of its course, you started to regain your focus. Tears slipping down your cheeks, you were ready to call out for help the minute an employee came into sight. But little did you know, Shindo had prepared for that. Reaching into his pants pocket, he pulled out his phone, and before you even realized what he was doing, he snapped picture after picture after picture. Some were close-ups of your dripping cunt, while others captured the image of both your crying face and your spread legs.

           “Wh—what are you doing?”

           “It’s okay babe,” Shindo chuckled. “I’m not about to share these with anyone. So long as you’re a good girl, that is. You keep this memory between us like it should be, and I’ll keep these pictures all to myself like I want to. You understand?”

           “Y—yes,” you whispered as the ride stopped and the safety bar lifted upwards.

           “That’s my good girl,” Shindo said fondly, brushing his lips gently against your cheek. Climbing over you, he exited the ride while you still sat there and smirked at the sight of you stricken silent, still trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure.

           “And don’t worry babe,” he purred as he leaned down towards you, “I’ll see you soon. There’s plenty more thrills where that came from.”

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#yandere shindo x reader #yandere shindo #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere shindo yo #yandere yo shindo x reader #yandere yo shindo #yandere hero #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere my hero academia #yandere lemon #lemon yandere #tw noncon #tw: noncon #yandere story #yandere scenario #yandere imagines #yandere imagine #yandere drabble #yandere drabbles #yandere smut #yandere fic #yandere fanfic #yandere fanfiction #yandere self insert #yandere reader insert #yandere

[rhabakoli]

Don’t Go

It’s my obligation, as ‘the smutty friend’ to take care of any smut scenes coming up in any of @dreamwritesimagines stories. so, here we go. 

Tagged: @cloudberrysims @habitchi @this-is-whump-dammit

**

She was scratching Roach’s neck, trying to keep her face neutral. In truth, her heart was in pain. Geralt was going back into the forest. He barely came out alive last time, after some gruesome monster surprised him and almost impaled him. Not that Geralt would ever have told her about it, no. She had to hear from Ciri, who heard it from the Bard. Jaskier was – ironically – the only one not lying about his missions. 

She didn’t notice Roach’s ears turning, her head raising as she nickered at her rider. “I thought I’d find you here.” His warm voice startled her, sent her tripping over her own feet as she turned around. Geralt caught her around the waist, pulled her flush against his body. “Don’t hurt yourself.” The princess looked up at him, into his golden eyes, and had to remind herself to breathe. Especially when his free hand came up and smoothed along her cheek. At first she tried to back away, but his hold on her didn’t budge – and he was wearing gloves. As always, around her. I don’t want to waste just one second pulling gloves on, when I could be having my hands on you instead. She blushed at the memory, still speechless; and frankly, her priority right now was to burn his face into her mind, so she could draw him over and over again. At the end of this mission, he’d be gone. Or, if he was gone, the mission would end. Either way, odds were high she’d never see him again. Geralt observed her face, tiny smirk on his lips. “I really would like to kiss you right now.” Which – oh god. Good that he was holding her, because her knees were giving out. He came closer, his hand going from her cheek to the back of her head. “I wont. But I really want to.” His voice dropped another octave, she could feel the vibrations in her chest. Her throat was dry, her lungs struggled to get air. “I wish I could touch you the way I wanted. Make you feel good.” His hand smoothed down to the small of her back, barely stopped before he was cupping her bum. “Maybe when I’m back.” Now, that brought her back into reality. She found her strength, placed her hands on his chest, ignored the little voice in her head that told her to never take her hands away, and shoved at him. “You asshole.” He tilted his head in surprise, blinking owlishly. “What?” “You fucking asshole.” It wasn’t appropriate behaviour, not for a princess and not even for a lady, but she didn’t care. She was so furious. “How dare you talk to me like that, make those loose promises, when you know very well you could die!”, she hissed at him. His crossed his arms in front of his chest, eyes turning to slits. He knew, he wouldn’t get a word in, not when she was this angry. “How dare you play with my heart this way! I feel like this whole situation is tearing me apart, and you’re not helping, Geralt!” He used the break in her rant to advance upon her, clap one hand over her mouth, the other pressed to the small of her back to pull her against him once more. He’d never get tired of feeling her body under his fingers. He’d had dreams about this. He kissed the back of his hand. “Let’s not discuss this here, shall we?” And so he pulled her along, out of the stables and to her room, where there was at least the illusion of privacy. There, he let her go, waved a hand through the air in a ‘go on’ motion and waited.   She was staring at him, pouty and annoyed. His not-kiss had surprised her and made her wish for this wretched curse to be gone already. She’d almost forgotten what she was so angry about. Oh, right. “You are mean.” Yes, well done, very eloquent, very witty. Seeing him in her room had her eyes fill with tears, and she couldn’t stop them. “I hate that you have to go, and then you come here, and say all those things! And I know this couldn’t ever be real, this couldn’t ever happen, because the moment the curse is lifted, my mother will be throwing suitors at me like I was a field to be sown!” Geralt had to hold back a sneer at her words. No one would have her. No one. As long as it made her happy, he’d be the only one touching her. “Don’t go.” “What?” She was pleading him, to stay, not to fight. “You could hide out here for the day, and then say you killed her but she refused to lift the curse – please don’t leave, I couldn’t bear if something happened to you.” Geralt’s eyes softened at her words. His precious princess. “I can’t. If there is any chance to lift this curse, I have to try it.” He stepped closer, hands reaching out once again. She willingly went to him, stepped into his embrace. Instantly, she felt safe, protected, like nothing ever had to worry her again. She looked up at him, wanted to cup his face and kiss him, but instead she placed her hands on his chest and rested her head against them. Warmth radiated from him, his voice was low, deep as he continued. “I’ll come back. I’m not willing to let anyone else have you.” “How selfish.” “Can you blame me?” He looked down at her, pupils dilating as she bit her lip. “Can you really blame me, when you look like that?”   His fingers traced the laces of her dress, teasingly pulling here and there, not actually doing anything, because, well, obvious reasons. The little tugs grated on her nerves though – but in a good way. Tension was building, she could feel the heat pool in her belly at the thought of feeling his hands on her. His big, strong hands, with those long and deft fingers. Surely, he’d know how to use them. She blushed at her own thoughts, and turned her head away. Geralt noticed. Of course. A hand came up, one finger guiding her chin, so she’d look back up at him. “Tell me, princess.” His other hand still played with the laces, made it hard to think.   “Can I see how far that blush goes?” His voice, his words sent shivers down her spine; she gave a curt nod. The pressure around her ribcage lessened as the laces gree loose. “Are you sure.” Hungry eyes were drinking her in; never had she felt so safe and wanted under such an intense gaze. “Yes.” A growl left Geralts chest, his fingers now working faster to peel the heavy dress off her. “You are divine, princess.” How he could say her title with such fondness, such reverence, almost like a prayer – she’d never know. But she did know, she wanted to hear it again, and again, and again. “Geralt, please.” The dress was off in less time than they needed in the mornings to get it on; much less time. This left her now in her shift, thin linen which hid nothing. His hands flexed on her hips, a groan and a curse filled the air. And suddenly, she was off the floor. He’d grabbed the back of her thigh, the other supporting her back, and lifted her up, turned and pressed her back to the wall, his hips pressed against hers. She could feel him hot and hard against her pelvic bone. He looked down at where they were joined, and rolled his hips once, twice; it was delicious. She’d helped her needs before, she was not completely innocent, but this. Never had she had a man, never did she think it could be like this! And Geralt was still fully clothed, still wearing gloves.  God, there was still a dagger strapped to his thigh. He was ranting, telling her what he wanted to do to her, how he wanted to make her feel good, and that he wouldn’t let her leave bed for days, if he could have his way. it did nothing to calm her racing heart, to stop the heat from pooling in her belly, to keep her heartbeat from wandering down to her clit. Nothing. And he knew it. Her legs were around his waist, his hands wandering, never staying still. One pinched a nipple, the other palmed her ass, then wandered down to her knee and up to wrap around her waist and keep her exactly where he wanted her. “Say, princess.” His hip bumped against hers, the bulge in his breeches meeting her centre right on, making her let out a small moan. “Did you ever think of me? At night? In a dream?” She couldn’t answer, the constant friction, his consuming presence, his words in her ears; it was too much for her. She just nodded, then bit her lip when he rubbed against her with more force. “Did you touch yourself?” Another nod. It made no sense to lie to him, to deny him anything, not when he made her feel this good. He froze. “Princess. Darling.” His hand came up, thumb over her lips. “Don’t move.” And he pressed his lips to his thumb, just for a second, before pulling back and fixing her with those unique eyes of his. “One day, I’ll kiss you. I’ll properly kiss you.” His thumb swiped over her lower lip. “Here.” Then his hand left her face, fingertips traced a path down her neck, her chest, her belly, until he reached where he wished he was buried already. “And here.” His thumb pressed down on her clit, circled it, flicked it. His gloves felt strange, combined with the linen, but oh so good. Her hips bucked, completely out of her control, and Geralt just mirrored her. They fell into a rhythm, spurring each other on, driving them towards the edge faster and faster until they stood right there. Geralt ducked, one hand underneath her, to hold her, one at her clit, still working her; ducked down, his lips ghosting over her clothed shoulder, whispered sweet nothings against her skin and just when he felt her coming, he bit her shoulder, left his mark. No one would see it anyways. She was tense in his arms, her orgasm wracked through her, her breathing stopped for a moment, until she gasped and panted. He was still hard, still going, but he didn’t wanted her to grow oversensitive. His lady, his princess, this wonderful human being, reached down, cupped his dick and applied pressure, gave him something to rut against. “Geralt, please. Please, come.”  HIs fingers digged into her skin, most likely leaving bruises, with how hard he was pressing. But she didn’t mind. It was something to remember him by. “Geralt, come on. I’m yours.”  “Shit.”  His hips stilled, his dick twitched under her hand. Geralt groaned, closed his eyes at that. He shot his load into his pants, like a boy. This woman will be the death of him. Their pants filled the air, mindless giggles filtering in, when she came back to herself. “This is not what I expected.” Geralt turned his head from where his forehead was pressed against her shoulder and glanced up at her. “What can I say? You’re beautifully terrifying when you’re furious.”

#the witcher #Beautfiful and Damned #b&d #a dreamwritesimagines production #geralt x oc #i guess??? #no names mentioned #also def not my best work #but here you go #smut #have fun

[squeallywrites]

Rebellion Ch.19

Leo and Ira managed to slip by any guard they came across on their way up the capitol building. But something kept catching their eye every time they passed one. Those that wore the half- helmets, their facial features were exactly the same. They all had the same scar on the right side of their cheek, same thin lips and same nose. Every one was even the same build.

“This is getting weird,” said Ira as they passed yet another pair, “At least we’re getting near the top now.”

Just as they turn the corner, Ira runs into a guard, making him stumble backwards.

“Hey! What are you two doing up here?!” He yells, grabbing his gun to take aim. Leo rushes the man with a few quick jabs, the guard collapsing onto the ground, unconscious. Leo  yanks off the helmet and… It’s Alec?! 

“But she shot him!” He couldn’t believe it. 

“What if Alec..is like us?” She muses as she kneels to get a closer look. Ira looks up at Leo, “It is possible since we don’t know how they developed the virus.”

The older looks off, pondering for a hot minute before nodding, “It would make sense.”

Footsteps thunder towards them. They bolt, Ira leading the way. She pushes open a door, Leo not far behind her. As they catch their breath, Leo freezes. Ira follows his line of sight only to gasp.

Elisabeth. 

~~~~~~~

She was unconscious. That much was clear as she was suspended in a mysterious light blue liquid. Chains wrapped around her arms and legs latched her to the bottom of the tank as her hair swirled above her. A mask that covered her lower face was connected to the floor with a tube. Ira squints her eyes as she looks the tank up and down before turning to Leo, whispering, “It looks like there’s an opening at the top.”

“Wait, Ira,” he grabs her wrist, keeping his voice low. There’s a good chance that this is a trap.”

“Trap or not, we have to help her. Leo, you gave me this chance to do something more, so let me do it.”

With that, she shifts into a rat and skitters towards the tank. He watches her for moment before taking in the room. There wasn’t much to it. The domed ceiling had wires draped across the open area. Air ducts went up the walls, breaking apart the old marble. A semi-sheer curtain hid a portion of the room off to the side. Gently, he opens the curtain just enough for him to slither through. A giant window overlooks Capitol Hill as tanks roll by outside. 

“You came for her, didn’t you?” A low voice rasps out.

Leo spins to where the voice came from. It was close and everything was in shadow, but he knew that voice all too well by now. He cautiously steps forward, hand raised to light up the area flames flickering around his fingers.

There was Alec, but not like he have ever seen before. This one was folded in on himself, decrepit, snow white hair drooping to his pale cheekbone. His skin sunken making him look much older. Sticking out of him in all sorts of directions were tubes and wires, connected to the machine beside him almost like a life support. His eyes, though, there was such a crazed look to them but at the same time, they held authority. Almost like he knew that he had power here.

“It doesn’t matter. You won’t leave here alive.”

Leo’s eyes narrow, but he holds his tongue. If Alec doesn’t know about Ira, best not to point it out.  

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Alec goes on, changing the subject, “I always thought so.”

“So you kept her as a trophy?”

The crippled man shakily rises from the chair, strings of electricity flittering around him, “When I had escaped, I tried to find her, you know? But she had moved everything without a trace. They found me, experimented on me. It was then I realised she left me for dead. That she had used me and tossed me aside like a lowly soldier. But now I can show her. Show her that I’m not weak. That I don’t need her anymore.”

“She thought you were dead! What else was she to do? Go off on a mission on a simple belief that you were alive with no evidence? Dragon had the entire rebellion on her mind so why focus time to worrying about you? It would have been suicide!” Leo tries to reason with him.

“I knew she had survived the virus! She could have saved me but she chose to leave to me to rot.”

Leo growls, “You told her to leave you.”

Thunder rumbles outside. Alec glances out the window to see his clones and the rebellion battling against each other.

“Well then. Looks like Sophi stepped up to the plate. Let’s make her regret that decision,” He groans as the tubes and wires begin to shake and alarms sound off from the machine. Outside, more of his clones descend upon the army. Giant vines erupt from the ground as Neo gives the ultimate order, chaos breaking free.

Alec scoffs, “You think my Elisabeth loves you? HA! Don’t make me laugh. She’ll just leave you like she did me. She never came back! She didn’t care enough to come back for me. To save me. So I’ll save her.” 

“From what?”

He spins back to Leo, eyes glowing as a crazed looks settles upon his face, “From you. From the world. We don’t belong here. We were never meant to have these abilities. It’s like a disease that needs to be erased. I was going to create a world that’ll be free of the pain and the suffering that humans put it through and show her the greatness before killing her. We don’t deserve to live. Did she tell you? How many people she’s killed while calling herself leader of the rebellion? How many of them were innocents?

“But that doesn’t matter now. You’ve given me the ultimate prize. I get to kill you and your friend right in front of her!” He manically laughs as Leo spins to see Ira, now human, on top of the tank wide eyed. Out of the corner of his eye, lightning shoots pass him right at his flicks his wrist at her. The light is so intense, he has to look away but as he blinks to clear his vision he gasps. There on the floor was a crater with Ira’s lower legs in a pool of blood.

Leo turns back to Alec, his body vibrating with energy. Coils of electricity spiral around the madman before he takes aim. Fire shoots from Leo’s hand but it counter by a clone’s shield.

Alec laughs manically as his body leans back, moaning as stronger clones of him erupt from him. While he is distracted, Leo blinks away, coming up behind Alec but his opponent hears the portal open and turns in time to deflect. He misses but the move hurts Alec, causing some clones to disintegrate and the spirals to flit away. He looks physically older and is panting.

The electricity begins to spiral back up from Alec’s feet, but Dragon’s voice echoes in the back of Leo’s mind.

“You know, with you being a firebender now, I wonder if you could do this one move from a show I used to watch. 

“Really?” Leo asks, “and what would that be?”

He takes a deep breath and braces himself.

“Redirecting lightning.”

Alec screams as he shoots at Leo. He takes it in, his body screaming at him as he struggles to aim back at the Administration’s head before releasing. The air is pulled from his lungs as the lightning strikes. He blinks again and all that is left is the destroyed remains of Alec’s machine and charred bones hanging out of the now broken window. 

Leo’s knees give out as everything begins to blur before going black.

#vixx fanfiction #vixx fanfic #vixx leo #vixx leo/oc #vixx au #vixx taekwoon

[reynesofcastamere]

Jagged Crowns(2/2)[β]

(A/N:As previously discussed, this is not a continuation , but rather a ‘same scenario, different circumstances’ deal. The primary difference between the two is Darksider!Ahsoka. So yes, this one is going to be NSFW *cough* for various reasons. Also, to reiterate:(since I mentioned this in the tags and not everyone has the time/inclination to read those), I have removed the previous limit and my inbox is open for questions, drabbles and prompts. Keep in mind that sometimes asks do get lost and that it is never my intention to deliberately ignore someone. That being said, warnings for: gore, violence, death, intrusive/manipulative thoughts, possessiveness, bloodplay, powerplay, biting, mentions of exhibitionism kink and...Look, if two people having rough sex directly after battle while there are still dead bodies in the room squicks you out, best to give this a pass. Now, on to the fic! Unbeta’d.)

The Sith are fools. Locking themselves into a cycle of a beast devouring its’ own tail, gorging themselves even as they lose their most vital components. Ahsoka and her Lord are strong, united in purpose and potency, the Dark Side practically leaping to obey their will: As they pull the Emperor off his throne, drag him through the blood and viscera of his loyal protectors, and cleave his decrepit body with their blades until he is so much burnt offal. A fitting sacrifice for his conquerors.  Scarcely are their weapons deactivated and holstered before she is upon him, lips and tongues battling fiercely as they negotiate a haphazard path towards their new place of power. Pieces of armour and clothing are nearly torn off in desperate haste until Ahsoka springs upwards. knees pressed against his thighs as he drops back onto the throne. Her hands slide from his shoulders, along his nape, to trace and tug at the base of his posterior horns, a gratifying purr vibrating deep in his chest.  She pulls back for a moment, just to bask in the image he makes; The terrible beauty of shadow and flame, crowned with sharpened bone. Now a sovereign in truth, not just appearance. Yet even in this moment of triumph, his ghosts will not be silent. Especially the old slime-snake.Their multitudes are known to each other, the recriminations, the reckless urges, the eternally-unsatisfied needs. And while they cannot remove them entirely the voices can at least be silenced for a time.

Ahsoka presses the pad of her left thumb to one of his horn-tips until it bleeds, then brushes it across his lower lip.His tongue darts out to taste her blood, even as she brings the cut digit to her sternum, tracing a rough copy of the symbol that adorns his own. Through their bond she coaxes his metaphysical hands to join hers in wrapping around the venomous shade’s throat. “He doesn’t get to have you anymore.” She snarls in protective fury, her own gaze infernal with the intensity of it as they choke the monster’s whispers down to nothing. One death is not enough. She will kill every trace of Sidious in her Lord, in the galaxy over and over again until nothing is left.  He loves her. For her spirit, her empathy, for being the one who stays when so many others have fallen or abandoned him. She knows this without Maul ever needing to say the words. It is branded in his eyes, on her soul, in every brush of their minds through the Force. She does her best to return the gift of that certainty, the assurance that she is his. There will never be anyone else. Her hips circle and grind against his as his hands sweep down her torso, stopping to squeeze her waist before fingertips hook into the top of her leggings. He eases them down, revealing her by slow degrees until the fabric pools around her calves. She claims his lips in an eager rush, tasting the faint trace of her own blood as she reaches down to press two of his fingertips deep into her soaked channel with her right hand. The other draws him out, anointing his shaft with crimson liquid. They pant in anticipation, trading bites and shuddering, deep moans, pelvises meeting in teasing slides even as their fingers work in frenzied rhythm.  “Who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“And who am I?”

“My Empress.”

“Yessssss.....” She removes his digits and impales herself on him, effortless and without shame. Ahsoka arches in sheer pleasure as she sinks down to the hilt, kept upright only by the hands that cage her hips. Her current perspective of the room is tilted and stained with carnage, but it is only too easy to envision the near future; Their own guards silent, still, and longing as their rulers writhe and rut together. She knows he can see it too, how the thought makes her gasp and squirm. When she meets Maul’s gaze again, it is molten with obsession and lust.  They’ve danced with the thrill of being caught before, though never quite like this. There’s little need to hide or wait now that they can fuck where-and-whenever they please, within reason. Ahsoka’s hips circle as her walls contract, keeping him embedded deep within. There’s a slight ridge near the base that’s absolutely maddening when it rubs against her clit, she has to fight not to press frantically against it. She wants this to last, after all. Maul has other ideas, though, one hand crushing her against his front as the other digs into her backside. He’s biting repeatedly at her throat, leaving a messy collar of bruises and leaking cuts behind, growling like a feral beast. She claws at him in turn, hissing and keening. It’s too much and still not enough until- “Come.” She cannot refuse the command, rough and possessive as it is; Dragging him over the edge with her and crying out in sharp ecstasy. But he’s not done, discarding her leggings and boots before turning them. Her spine is pressed against the back of the throne with him kneeling between her thighs, legs firmly wrapped around his hips. He is still hard, twitching and slick from their first climax as he re-enters her slowly. She welcomes the burn of the intrusion, the struggle of her overstimulated nerves adjusting to his girth.

He leads her on with shallow plunges, little nips of his teeth to her lekku. It’s deeply frustrating because he knows what she wants, yet when she tries to direct his mouth elsewhere he traps her wrists in one hand and pins them above her head. “You can do better than this.” Ahsoka points out, wriggling to try and get more friction, more speed, more anything to no avail. “Not until you beg.” Maul purrs, so close that he might as well be kissing her, eyes and tone heavy with promise. One that he, of course, doesn’t follow through on. Her heels press into his lower spine in retaliation, watching his eyelids flicker as his breath sibilates between his teeth. “You really think you can wait that long?” She hums, smiling as his hips buck in instinctive reaction. It is all a game to them. She could break free or stop him at any time, but she doesn’t care to. And he desires her resistance just as much as her submission. “Absolutely.” He asserts in a low growl, claiming her mouth with his. They lose themselves in this for some time: Her attempting to spur on his aggression while he toys with her lekku, neck, and breasts.

Finally, she decides to have some mercy on him. “Master, please.” Ahsoka sobs, sounding half-crazed and hoarse. “Harder.” She arches her body and ripples her core in a desperate plea. “I need you to break me.” It is enough to unleash the primal creature that lurks beneath his skin, and she cries out when he slams into her at last. Maul is all but violating her with each searing, forceful thrust and all she can do is plead for him to keep going.

An exchange of yes, more, please, mine, yours, always falls from their lips, teeth bared in pleasured grimaces. She loses herself in him, vision blinking between his face and his own view of her. Their tangled thoughts are no less scintillating, fragmented and chaotic as they are. But for a moment, there is a clear vision: An Empire free of the corrupt, the grasping, and the fearful. A galaxy at peace, its Emperor and Empress with heirs both of their blood and taken in by choice. It is beautiful, and she knows with every fibre of her being that they can make it a reality before it splinters into a dazzling ring of coloured light and she wails...

He is still pounding into her, triggering aftershocks that are rapidly building towards another climax.The throne is a mess beneath them, essence pooling underneath her backside even as their joining only grows more hurried and violent. Her hands are free again, nails raking his back, breath escaping in faint whines and keens while he growls and pants in off-key rhythm. Her cunt is in absolute agony from being forced to take this savage treatment so soon after release, yet she cannot bring herself to stop or even slow down. So close...He bites directly over where she had left a crude approximation of his markings earlier, and she whites out in pain-laced bliss as he roars. Ahsoka gulps down air when she comes back to herself, feeling warm wetness and hard muscle underneath her fingertips. She doesn’t need to look to know that she’s shredded his back to ribbons again. They’re both going to need bacta patches pretty soon, if only to prevent infection. Getting their clothes back on wouldn’t hurt either. But not just yet. Not while Maul is kissing her so very softly, approval radiating in the Dark Side and his thoughts. Because she loves him, she will give him this, and all of her, forever. (A/N: This...took a bit longer to type than I initially planned. Curse you, writer’s block. Going to try and get the next installation of my main series or the Mando!AU up next, though as usual I make no definite guarantees on that. The muse is veeeeery fickle at times. Cheers, everyone!)

#maulsoka #NS.FW #come to the dark side we have smut #lol sorry couldn't resist the joke

[ikesengoficss]

The Innocent Butterfly, with Thorns in her Wings // Lucien x Reader {MLQC}

choking is my,,,, big kink. and after seeing that karma (i think it’s karma? could be a CG) i just had to write this... though in context to the karma, what I’m writing is most likely not at all what is happening ;/ wheeze

he’s a creepy bastard and I love him! 😤

@alloveroliver

Kinktober Challenge, October 8th: Breast Worship | Pegging | Choking

Game: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice

Rating: +18, NSFW

warning: choking, dom/sub theme, rough vaginal sex, dirty talk

please do not read if any of the sorts make you uncomfortable

Word Count: 2,186

The Innocent Butterfly, with Thorns in her Wings // Lucien x Reader

He never expected for his girlfriend, so sweet and innocent in his eyes, his darling butterfly, to have such a request of him. Even as you mustered your small request, your cheeks were a bright red and you couldn’t meet his eyes.

Asking him, in such a meek voice none-the-less, to do something so rough, so out of character for you. In bed Lucien was already somewhat rough, and definitely was the dominate one. In fact, he considered himself to be rather gentle with you in his love making. But there was no denying he certainly held back on his darker desires with you. One of which included wrapping his hand, a hand that can cover the whole of your face mind you, around your throat.

But now you stood in front of him sheepishly asking him to release those desires onto you. Your fingers twiddled with your skirt, your head bowed and you swayed back and forth on the heels of your feet. He walked towards you, one hand coming out of the pocket of his lab coat to cup your chin, tilting your head up. “Is that really want you want?” You nod but Lucien shakes his head. “Tell me.”

“It’s what I want.”

“Tell me exactly what you want. Exactly so I can get it right.”

You gulp. There is no way of escaping his intense gaze, but why would you want to, when that intensity was only for you. “I want… I want you to push me down on the bed, and--and to be more rough, and…I want you to be in control. I’d also…,” the way you fumbled through your words only made his grin wider, and the tent in his pants more obvious. “I would like you to choke me… please.”

“Silly girl,” he says, chest rumbling with laughter. “You can barely muster the words. What makes you think you can handle such a thing.”

You take a hold of the collar of his shirt, surprising him slightly as you suddenly yank him towards you to crash your lips against his, sloppily. He grins into the kiss and sensation of your tongue trying to find his. He opens his mouth slightly, finally allowing you that entrance for your crazed kiss, and tangles his tongue with yours in the kiss’ violent dance. You pull back with your face flushed and lips swollen; it’s such a pretty sight, he resists the urge to reach out to you. “I can handle it.”

That was the only confirmation he needed to finally let himself go on you. He wondered if you really could take it, if you were really up for the challenge. He was of course, more than willing to test those limits. “Remember that you asked me to be more rough,” he says, voice husky and seductive, his finger stroking against your cheek bone before trailing down your neck, stopping just at the lump of your throat. He pushes against it lightly, adding only slight pressure. “But you can always tell me to stop if you become uncomfortable at anytime. Don’t feel forced to do anything you don’t want to. Understood?”

He waited for your affirmation. Your lips quivered the word, “yes,” so softly, that he almost didn’t hear it. But he did, and the moment it was uttered from your lips, his hand was wrapped around your throat. The sudden grab caused your head to fling backwards slightly in surprise. He used your throat to pull you towards him, his large hand, long fingers, tightening around your neck to bring you only just on the border of being unable to breathe.

“Good,” he grins, his breath tickling yours. He presses a little kiss to your slightly parted lips, nibbling a little on your bottom one. He uses his grip on your neck to fling you onto his bed and your body bounces when it hits the mattress. It squeaks pitifully beneath you. Lucien presses his thumb to his bottom lip as he admires you sprawled on his bed; hair scattered around you, some strands covering your face, and your skirt hiked just up enough your legs to reveal the edge of your panties.

He chuckles lightly, slowly getting on top of the bed, on his knees, trapping you beneath him. You are surrounded by him. Your skin is a beautiful, floral red from where he choked you. With placing his hands besides your head, he leans down to press little, light kisses against the red skin. The gentleness of the kiss tickles, and you sigh, pleasantly. However, those gentle kisses are soon gone as he sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, breaking the skin with his bite and enlisting a squeal from you. Laughing he tells you, “I don’t think you realize the spark you’ve enlightened within me with your request… y/n.”

You pant heavily beneath him, looking up into his dark eyes through hooded lids. “I can only hope you’re prepared,” he continues, his hand finding it’s way back to your neck, fingers curling around it once more to block just a bit of your airways from collecting air. “You’re an innocent butterfly asking to have your wings tugged and torn apart. You have fallen into a trap of thorns, and there is no escaping it now, you see. Is it frightening?” He watched above you as you gulped and gasped for breath. And though the small sounds that escaped your pretty lips could be mistaken for ones of agony, pain, or fear? The lustful gaze from your eyes told him how much you were enjoying the feel of his large hand wrapped around your throat, and the strength of his grip that left you know room to wiggle free.

Lucien releases you suddenly when your eyes started to bulge, and he feels satisfied knowing quite the burn he gifted your lungs. You use the opportunity to take in big breaths. Arms that were limp at your side weekly try moving upwards to reach for him but you hold such little energy to do so. Lucien lets out a deep chuckle, his hand romancing down from your throat and to your breasts, cupping the right globe. He can feel your heart beating wild in your chest due to excitement, pleasure, and anticipation. “How do you feel?” he asks, hand pulsing as it squeezes your breast. “Take your time,” he whispers as you struggle to find your words.

“I feel… I feel numb.” He nods at your answer. His fingers deftly move to the buttons of your blouse to undo it. Even with the buttons undone, the shirt tears still as he rips it off your body. He frees your right breast from the constraints of your bra, bending down to blow on your pink, allerted nipple.

“Anything else?”

He tweaks your nipple between his forefinger and thumb whilst studying your face. Impatient waiting for your answer, he tugs it painfully resulting in an almost agonized groan at the sting of the tug, but it quickly subdues to a pleasured moan. “I feel… I feel hot. I feel really good. I want more.”

He hums, releasing your nipple. “That’s what I want to hear.” Before you can take another breath, with one hand delved in your hair, yanking your head forward, and other gripping your waist, he tosses you over onto your stomach. The force winds you slightly and taking notice, he gives you a moment before he is yanking your hips backwards against his pelvis, and with his hand clutching the back of your neck only to shove your face down into the sheets.

He doesn’t waste time in pulling your skirt and panties down, chucking them aside. He has a perfect view of your bare ass and hidden treasure between your legs. “Knock it off. Don’t be naughty and stay still,” he commands. He grabs your hips, fingers bruising your skin in his painful grip as he stops you from wiggling. “Just Relax.” Your juices trickle down your thighs, glimmering in the light that blares from above. You shiver as he runs his fingers up your legs to collect whats dripped down from you. There is no need to look back; you know he is licking his fingers clean by the slight suckling sounds.

“How cute,” he chuckles, running a finger through your folds. “You’re already so swollen and puffy, and I haven’t even shoved my cock in you yet.” You grunt as he presses two fingers inside of you, curling them just right, that it’s so perfect it’s painful. “Maybe you aren’t such an innocent butterfly after all.”

“Lucien… please.”

Oh, how he loves to hear you beg. Moving his fingers back and forth between your folds, he relishes in your moans that you try so hard to muffle by burying your head in the sheets. But no matter what you try to do, you can’t get any sounds you make past him.  “What, y/n? What do you need?”

“I need…” with the methodic way he pumps his fingers, going faster and faster, the sounds of your juices squishing ringing in your ears, forming the right words becomes impossible; “me— fuck… please, please, I…OH!” The palm of his hand comes hard across your bottom, the shock of it and sting vibrating up your body. There is no room for reaction of course, as your world spins till you are suddenly laying on your back again.

Towering over you, he makes sure you can see him slowly unzipping his pants, a smirk plastered on his face. He holds his cock out in his hand, stroking it for you to watch. It’s thick, pre-cum leaks from the tip, and you want more than anything for it to be inside of you, pulsating and reaching every deep place in your body it an reach. The moment he see’s your hand itching towards your core, he’s snapping, “Don’t you dare!” throwing himself onto you with both hands wrap around your neck this time. His hands continue to squeeze, stopping your breath short. “I think this enough foreplay, don’t you? You’re becoming naughtier and naughtier. It’s time I nip it in the bud.”

He thrusts into you. There is no slow making his way into you, careful not to hurt you and shove too deep, like he has done in the past when making love to you. No, he sheaves himself all the way in, and immediately begins to pound himself against you, his hips smacking against you and his hands tightening around your neck that you start gagging for air.

Lucien presses his thumbs into your neck a little more. He wants to feel you claw at his wrists. He wants you desperate for air and desperate to get it back. He wants to feel the pain of your nails digging into him. All while he can see the look of ecstasy on your face as your breath is literally stripped from you. When you finally do, and you draw blood too with your desperate clawing, he lets out a loud and deep moan.

It doesn’t take long for you to come around his cock. He lets go of your neck to take favor in lifting your legs and putting them over his shoulder so he can go deeper, all while you go limp as you come down for your high and take in the air you were previously deprived of.

Lucien wants his release. He wants you to milk his cock dry, so he’s not holding back as he slams himself with in you, cause the bed to move against the floorboard. As he finally reaches his peak, he tugs on your hair and empties himself inside you, grunting into your ear as he gives a final thrust so even the last drop can find its way inside of you. Though he collapses on top of you, he’s careful now not to completely crush you with his weight. He’s panting, lips just above your forehead, and he’s resting on his forearms which cage your head.

He looks down to see your eyes closed shut and your chest heaving heavily. Your neck is very red, and he can already picture the dark, purple and blue bruising that will paint your delicate skin; even if you did ask, he’s beginning to feel a pang of guilt. He quickly pulls out of you, standing up from the bed and pushing himself back into his pants. He goes to get wipes and cream from his bathroom, coming back and grinning slightly at your quivering form. You’ll be unable to move for days.

As he helps to clean you, taking extra care between your legs, and gently massaging some cream onto your neck, he praises you. He praises you for being a good girl, a sweet girl. For holding yourself well and for making him feel so good— he felt so good, he could not express it properly to you. Pride preventing him for doing so either way.

He sits down on the edge of the bed and collects you in his arms. He rubs your back, rocks you a little back and forth, hums in your ear. He holds onto you tight, afraid that if he lets go for just a second you might disappear. You’re still shaking and he laughs, pressing gentle little kisses around the crown of your head. “Are you ok, y/n?” he asks earnestly.

You look up at him and beam, it’s almost child like. “I am, Lucien. Thank you. I didn’t know if such a request would make you uncomfortable.”

He holds back a snort, deciding to just hide your face in his chest by tucking you underneath his chin so you cant see the devilish smirk on his face. “By now you should know, silly girl, I’d do whatever you ask for. If my darling butterfly asks with her sweet voice,” he whispers. Combing his fingers through your hair, he now stops to cup the nape of your neck, “she will be granted anything. Even if it’s for thorns in her wings.”

~~~~~

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[essaysbyciara]

Old Habits Die Hard| Part Two: Just Be Good To Me

 Yahya Abdul-Mateen II x Dave East x Y/N Fic

SYNOPSIS | PART ONE: DAYS BEFORE

Warnings: Language, Lightweight mentions of sexual situations, brief marijuana use 

Y’all. I’m so overwhelmed by the love I’ve received for this story. Thank you to everyone who read, liked, commented and/or followed me on here. Taglist is STILL OPEN. *squees from joy*

JUST BE GOOD TO ME

Your finger traces the tattoos that dart up and down Dave’s back, the smoke from his blunt curling around his head as he leans back to inhale. The box fan on top of the dresser can only do so much as you push the sheets down to your knees so your torso can catch a quick cool down. You love watching the sweat trail down Dave’s spine. You try to catch each drop before they hit the mattress. 

“I forgot your bougie ass don’t smoke.” You crawl behind Dave, wrapping your supple legs around his waist. Your arms prop up your body so you can get a better look at him as he takes another pull. Dave instinctively starts to caress your left knee with his free hand. Your skin feels like cotton candy to him. You taste even sweeter. 

“You’re gonna stop calling me bougie...” You chuckle gently as you plant gentle kisses on Dave’s shoulder.  

“You know I like messing with you. Chill.” Dave lifts himself off of the bed. He still isn’t used to your love language. You pout as he walks up to his dresser to grab his phone. You try to weaken the feelings of dismissal but Dave catches your body language change in his mirror’s reflection as you lean over the bed to grab your clothes from off the floor. He realizes it was a mistake to walk away from you. 

“Yo. Come here.” You answer Dave’s command, lifting up the sheets to wrap them around your body like a towel. “Fuck the sheets. Come here.” A mischievous grin covers your face. Dave elicits confidence and freedom from you like never before. You walk over to him, hips swaying to the beat of the bass that’s blasting holes throughout the atmosphere outside. Before you can even get within an inch of him, Dave picks you up and sits you on top of the dresser. He kisses you so deep that your legs can’t help but to swing open like a broken screen door. The bass cranking from one of the cars outside sets the pace for your next round with Dave. 

“Fuck…” 

“My bad, Y/N. These potholes ain’t no joke up here.” Yahya’s not-so-smooth driving wakes you up from your slumber. You look down to witness the silent quivering  pulsate from between your legs. This isn’t the first time you’ve dreamed about Dave since you accepted his friend request a few days ago but the closer you were to getting back to Philly, the more intense they became. You grab Yahya’s hand to assuage your guilt. He smiles. Unlike Dave, he needs no help deciphering your love language. 

“It’s okay, babe. I needed to wake up. We’re super close to Aunt Jerri’s.” 

“Should I be scared about meeting your family? You made it seem like they’re gonna cut me if I don’t come correct.”

“Aye, they might.” You tease Yahya. Your left hand starts to caress his inner thigh. “They won’t mess with you. Aunt Jerri always got the family in line, I’m sure. She loves you already and she’s the biggest test to pass.” 

“Good. I really wanted to leave the lawyer that I am back home. Where should I park though?” 

You reorient yourself to the surroundings to direct Yahya to the back street behind Aunt Jerri’s house. You already see the smoke billowing from the barbeques on the street and hear the little ones’ laughs and screams. You also see all of your Dad’s brothers on the back porch playing spades and they’re already at peak shit-talking form.  “You know how to play spades, right?” 

“Don’t let this Berkeley degree fool you, Y/N.” The vibrations from your phone break up your laughter. You open your phone to see an Instagram notification from Dave. You set up post notifications to track him, lying to yourself enough to believe it was to keep tabs on Dave so you wouldn’t run into him at the block party. Your heart knows the truth. He just posted a picture of him and his cousin Pardi posted on his porch. He and his boys are outside ready to play. 

“Is that my Y/N!” 

“Hey Uncle Ro!” Uncle Rodney -- or Ro --  was a barrel of a man who always wore his Sunday best even in the hottest of the weather. He was a preacher at an Pentecostal church who could drink the rest of the family up under the couch. He pulls you in for a hug. You try not to soak in the smells of sweat mixed with Christian Brothers emanating from his body. 

Yahya trails behind you with his hands inside of his pockets because of the growing fear quaking his bones. The spades game has suddenly stopped in its tracks and your other uncles -- Trace and Larry -- and Mr. Reed, who has always been like an uncle to you, start to ice grill Yahya down to his socks. Your Dad must have sent a bat signal from heaven for his brothers to stand tall on his behalf. 

“Y/N! Y/N!!!!!!! Heyyyyyyyyyyyy!” Aunt Jerri breaks up the detente at just the right time. She hugs you with so much force that your eyes almost pop out of their sockets. “And look who we have here, huh? You must be Mr. Yahya. He looks so much like T doesn’t he, Trace….” 

Trace doesn’t respond, still acting as a stand-in for your father. 

“Yahya, baby, don’t let them scare you. Bring your ass in the house.” Yahya feels relieved as Aunt Jerri drags him by the hand into her house to meet more of your family. You follow right behind. 

“Trace, you can relax. The dude bought bags of ice. He’s aight with me,” says your Uncle Larry. Trace doesn’t respond, instead throwing down a ten of spades that erupts the entire table. 

“Run up to the store right quick, Quaadir.” Dave passes a ten dollar bill to his nephew. 

“No, nigga.” Quaadir folds his arms and sticks out his lower lip like it’ll change Dave’s mind. Quaadir is not old enough to be on the corner but he’s talking like them.

“Yo, Pardi. Your son think he brolic. You hear him?! Nigga, what?” Pardi only looks at Quaadir and he quickly changes his mind. “He picking all this up from his moms, man.” The porch erupts in laughter. 

Dave needed this laugh. Especially after seeing your engagement pictures with Yahya. 

It wasn’t what he was expecting to see when he requested to follow you on Instagram. You looked happy and at peace. The paintings inside of the art gallery where you took your engagement photos looked to be showing their approval of your impending union. Dave couldn’t front: you two looked good together. 

You and Dave didn’t go on many dates during your two-week romance. There wasn’t enough time and the time you did have only found you mostly under Dave’s body. The only official date you two went on was when you took him to the Anthropology and Archaeology museum located on the University of Pennsylvania’s campus. He watched you grow in excitement at every exhibit, reading every placard and hanging to the museum docent’s every word. He saw your joy and felt honored to witness it. 

He felt the opposite of joy as he read one of the captions under your pictures. You called Yahya “your favorite discovery.” Your nickname for Dave was “favorite”. You were Dave’s favorite and he lost out on you and that hurt like hell. Nevertheless,  he couldn’t stop scrolling down your Instagram feed. He wanted to see pictures from last summer and of the body,  face, smile and the style of the woman who caused him to want to make an entire course correct on that thing called life. He saw that you still had it all. Asking Ariel was such a waste of time and being at this block party was triggering as all get out. 

People always talking ‘bout reputation… I don’t care about those other girls, just be good to me … ooooooo

“Just Be Good To Me” cascades down Reed Street in a way that you’ve never heard. You missed this place and this time during the summer when everything stops to allow the neighborhood to bask in delight. It was a feeling you desperately needed last year after you decided to ditch a week in the Bahamas and a week of recuperating at home to spend two weeks at Aunt Jerri’s house. Truth be told was that the Bahamas once had a man attached to it but that fell through. 

That’s what led you to go after Dave. 

“It’s hot at Hades out here, my Lord.” Aunt Jerri fans herself as she sits on her stoop overlooking the busy street full of barbeque grills, babies splashing inside of kiddie pools and a DJ blasting everyone’s favorite R&B of the 80s. 

“Rodney! Rodneyyyy! Boy, toss me a Lime-A-Rita. It’s lit cityyyyyyyy!”

“Mom! Who on Earth taught you about anything being “lit”?!” Ariel’s embarrassment grows at her mother’s attempts to be cool. 

“Oh, I’m hip! Too hip to be a square, eyyyy!” She sways ever so gently to “Square Biz” by Teena Marie. 

“Ari, leave her alone! Uncle Rodney, don’t indulge her please.” You sip on your Hennessy with ice because, unlike Aunt Jerri, you were free to indulge. Yahya holds you from behind, sipping the last of his Heineken in between fits of laughter. Your Uncle Trace passes another bottle to Yahya as a peace offering and as an official welcome to the family. Your Dad must’ve sent a message to Trace to stand down. Your yellow sundress with a thigh high split up to high heavens is cooling you off as the heat rises from off of the asphalt. 

“Y/N … you don’t tell Rodney what to do! I do! Let me be great!”

“You got it, Aunt Jerri!” Yahya kisses your right cheek and grips you tighter. He feels right at home and you’re so relieved that he’s here. 

“You know what I need someone to get? More paper plates. Run down to the store, Trace.”

“You got it, Sis.” 

Trace’s fashion sense was stuck in 1996; Ghostface Killah and Raekwon would be so proud. Trace was -- and still is --  feared, revered, loved and lusted over. He was the Dave of his time, his roster of women certified. Truth is that he could still build one, Trace capturing the attention of all of the 40-plus-year-old women on the street as he walks down to the store. He still had it. 

“Yo, Trace!” Dave hops up from the steps of his Aunt’s house to show Trace some love. Trace got Dave an overnight warehouse job years ago and he’s been indebted to him ever since. 

“Peace, king. What’s good?” Dave wants to ask Trace about you but last time he asked someone else in your family, it didn’t end the way he planned. 

“Shit, Trace. Just waiting for the street lights to come on so we can really get it in out here. You at Ms. Jerri’s crib? Everybody up there?” 

“Yeah. Everybody. You remember my niece, Y/N? She came up too.” 

Dave’s mind screams every expletive known to man. He wonders if you came up with you-know-who but asking Trace would open up old wounds and expose a decision that Trace explicitly forbade him not to make. 

Dave was Trace 2.0 and Trace knew it. He didn’t want that for his niece so when he saw Dave flirting with you at last year’s block party, he made it a point to pull Dave to the side to ask him in not-so-nicely terms to knock it off. 

You worked all the way around that threat with the help of Aunt Jerri. 

Aunt Jerri encouraged you to “remember that you’re on vacation” and that “what goes on here, stays here.” She saw the way you looked at Dave. It was the same way she gazed at your Uncle Terrence when she first met him. You were beyond smitten, turned on by the way he walked and talked. Dave could hem you up and pick you up. He oozed confidence that almost crossed into obnoxiousness. You wanted him and couldn’t hide it and Aunt Jerri encouraged to “have some fun with all of that.” She vowed to keep your secret from your Uncle Trace. You didn’t know it would turn into two of the most passionate weeks you would ever have and subsequently the worst heartbreak you ever felt. 

“Yeah, I do.” That’s all Dave could muster up to say as he feels his heart boil over. He daps up Trace, sits back down on the steps and opens up Instagram. 

Yo. You up here? 

Taglist: @yoursoulstea​​ @harleycativy​ @twistedcharismaaa​ @dorkskinneded​​ @need-my-fics​ @ghostfacekill-monger​ @writerbee-ffs​ @chaneajoyyy​ 

#yahya abdul-mateen ii x reader #yahya abdul-mateen ii #dave east #dave east fic #fanfiction #old habits die hard