#he's such a disgusting filthy bastard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawberymilku · 4 months

Text

Hate fuck

featuring: Blade x female!Reader

genre: smut, hate fuck, a lot of swearing, mentions of slut and whores, blowjob, degrading, slapping, choking, rough sex, enemies to lover arc, daddy kink, unprotected sex, doggy style, creampie

a/n: i really wanted to write a hate fuck for so long, so i tried. reader is a horny mf, so blade gotta show who that toy belongs to.

word count: 3.2k

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

"I really hate you," the girl Stellaron Hunter muttered, he stole her snacks form the fridge as always.

Blade smirked, the edge of his eyebrow raised.

"And yet if I wasn’t here, you’d be bored out of your mind. I don’t think you want that, Princess."

"Don't Princess me, I never share food, you know that," she hissed, throwing the half eaten cake, in the bin, glaring at him.

"Now now, is that any way to treat your enemy?" His smirk got wider, revealing just how much of an annoying bastard he could be. The bastard part was mostly true, it was the annoying part which was up for debate.

"Besides, I’m still pretty hungry…"

"How about I touch your sword, do you like it?" she intentionally touched his weapon, smudging it with the icing she touched just now, just to tilt him further.

He rolled his eyes. His sword was the last thing he wanted a careless girl like her touching. Then again, it was hard to deny how attractive she truly was. In a more perfect world, the two of them would end up together. But unfortunately, this wasn’t one of those. A smirk once again spread across his lips, his hands quickly reaching over to hers, his thumb stroking the inside of her palm as he held her wrist, bringing it closer to his mouth.

Her anger turned into frustration as he took her hand and licked the cream off her hand on purpose, kneeling down in front of her, however wasn't pleasurable on her face as it turned into a scowl, removing her hand from his grip. "You're disgusting, really." she slapped his face away, backing off from her seat.

Blade stood up and looked at her with a small smirk. Though her anger was far from being cute, he still had no regrets in his actions. That was just how he was, a disgusting bastard.

"You’re no different, darling. How many times have I seen you walk in late with a different person each time? I doubt you even know their names."

"It's none of your business," she furrowed her eyebrows, pissed at how observant he was with her, it was rather creepy.

"Aren't you just Kafka's little lapdog?" she had crossed that line, wayy cross that line. His face turned into huge rage, staring her dead in her eyes.

"Don’t you even go there, you filthy whore." his voice got louder as he glared at her. His expression twisted and his body language was now more threatening, even. No one dared to call him Kafka’s lapdog, and especially not from her. Blade was his own man.

"Isn't that why you joined the Stellaron Hunters, you're just her boy toy," she grinned. It was just her assumptions, he had his other reasons but that doesn’t matter, she was literally humiliating her. He cannot allow that.

Blade’s blood boiled. He had only a few things that could get him really riled up, and being associated with Kafka was one of them.

"You little slut. I’ll have you know, I did not join because of her. I have my own reasons for doing so, and they do not involve that woman."

"Don't call me a slut, you are a simp. A literal simp, do you even know what that means?" she snickered, enjoying to see his angry facial expression.

He was just about done with her. He clenched his hands, the veins on his forearms bulging. How much he wish to destroy her right at the moment, he imagined if his cum was all over her face, he want to humiliate her right there, but he kept his composure.

"Shut the hell up and keep your mouth shut. Don’t think that just because I didn’t join because of her means that I’m a simp." he tried to act calm instead, folding his arms.

Blade sighed, running his hands through his hair. He had let her get to him too easily. She was clearly trying to piss him off, and she had succeeded. In response, he was simply going to have to do the same.

"You know, now that I've actually gotten to talk to you for more than a few minutes, I can see exactly how much of a disappointment you are to everyone around you. Your parents must be ashamed to have you as a daughter."

"Don't bring my parents into this..." she looked up at him, he had gone way too far, she got up from his seat, approaching with him with her fan made of different blades attached to it, pointing on his neck.

He smirked, noticing his remark must have gotten to her. That is the exact reaction he had been wanting for. He raised a brow when her fan approached his neck, though he didn’t bat an eye at that either. The only thing he seemed interested in was the fact he had successfully gotten her.

"Or what? You’re going to hurt me? Come on, do it then."

She dug his skin with the point of the blade as it went further deeper, but she held her urges for murdering him, which she knew Kafka would come after her, for not getting along. "You have gone way too far, Blade. Take it back," she growled, looking into his red and golden gradient eyes.

Blade didn’t even flinch. In fact, he only smirked while blood slowly dropped down his neck. This certainly hurt, though he decided it was too late to back up now. Her anger was already through the roof. So all there was left to do was continue what he did best - piss her off.

“Make me.”

It seemed he was going to have to show her who was boss. With some quick and fluid motions, he was able to knock her backwards and pinned her to the wall using nothing but the strength of his arms. The red stains on his neck had now gone all the way from the front down to the back. He leaned in close, his body heat and breath filling her face. He liked how he had power here.

"Let go of me you lapdog," she looked above him, but he was twice her size.

“No.” Blade smirked, gripping her shoulders tightly. “Now tell me, little girl. Who’s the one in charge here? Who decides what happens and what doesn’t? Answer me.”

"No, what I said was right," she shrugged, daring to look at him back, or even say a word against him.

It made him smirk- he was enjoying this. It was a power trip for him. The satisfaction that came from him having complete control over her.

"That’s not how this works, darling." He leaned in even closer and whispered. "Say it."

"I'm sorry for calling you Kafka's lapdog, although which is true.." she apologized, giving it a half ass sincere words.

He finally released his grip from her, pulling her slightly closer. Now they were eye-to-eye, she was probably now noticing just how much of a height difference they had. But other than that, he was now in a much more relaxed position.

"At this rate it seems to me like you’re begging for a kiss." Blade said, his voice laced with an air of smugness.

"Quite the confidence you have, who said I want to kiss you," she rolled her eyes, wanting to push him away from her, ready to get out of the room, wanting to storm in Kafka’s office room and file a report but first she need to escape from his strong grip.

“Tell me, what’s stopping you?” Blade said, his voice getting more seductive with each word.

"Hmm, yes there is, actually, you got a pretty face but an ugly personality, nah not a man in my eyes" she hummed, wanting to piss him off, if she could.

“Is that so?” He smirked and got even closer to her. His breath and body heat were now on her face, his lips only a few inches from hers.

“Hate me all you want, but I see the way you look at me. Your anger clearly hides this intense lust for me. It’s clear as day how much you want me.”

"Oh please, aren't you jerking off the pictures Silver Wolf took for me?" her forehead vein was twitching from the bitter truth, exposing him to tilt him even more.

Blade got pissed just from those words alone. She had clearly touched a spot he was uncomfortable with. Now he was going to make her regret it.

“Shut up, you little whore.” he hissed, his voice dripping with anger and hatred. “I’m surprised you haven’t begged for me to punish you yet.”

"Why should I? I knew you want me," she looked smug, saying the words to drill it in his head.

Blade froze for a moment. Was she... actually enjoying this? That made him madder than anything! But... he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it a little bit himself. Blade leaned in even closer, his voice now laced with a sadistic and condescending tone.

“And I think you want me too, honey.”

She scoffed at that line he told her, but she could feel his grip on her soft arms, still pinning on her wall. It was true, she wants him too, and why are they acting so tough about it. "You're a bit delusional, Bladie" she hid her true self again.

He was enjoying this game more than he let on. He pulled her even closer.

“How cute... I wonder why you keep calling me delusional. Could it be because you’re afraid to let yourself be vulnerable to me?”

"You're so annoying, can I just shut you up already?" she whispered, she could feel his breath so close.

Blade smirked at her request. He was tempted. It’d be so easy... with a quick movement, he could pull her in fully, and their lips would meet. It was a simple motion. However, his mouth remained shut. Instead, he gave her that seductive smirk once more, his eyes locked on hers.

“Make me.”

She pushed her head, their nose were already touching, the proximity was too close, but she was such a tease, she didn't kiss him yet, she just want to push his buttons, their lips just a centimeter away, she let out a giggle as she earned a growl from his impatience.

Blade finally pulled her in and their lips met. His tongue swirled around her mouth, their tongues making contact. It was the most passionate kiss he had ever shared with anyone. She’d finally broken him. His hands grabbed her by her waist, his grip slightly tight, pulling her closer to his body. Blade just wanted to forget everything else. It was just them, now. Just this moment. All he wanted was to keep kissing. Keep kissing until she lost breath.

She bit his bottom lip, until he part away for air, a saliva string was formed after they cut their hot headed kiss, she looked up at him for answers, but she really enjoyed the kiss as much as he does.

They fuel their hate into desires, she was placed on his laps on the sofa, as she kissed him deeply, head tilted so they could deepened the kiss, she touched his bandaged chest, trying to take the bandage off goddamn slowly as they continued kiss.

Blade wrapped his hands around her waist, pulling her even closer to him. Their hot-headed love-hate kiss was growing more and more intense with each passing moment. Blade didn’t even realize how much his hands had began to explore her body, one of them slipping between her legs, squeezing her ass. She was right, he was a bit of a simp.

“Get down now,” he ordered her, he unbuckled his pants as he made her kneel down, he put a thumb softly inside her mouth. “Okay, suck it, whore.” he loved how obedient she was. “Now, beg, beg for my dick, Princess” the girl glared at him underneath but she was down bad for one right now.

“Please, can I suck your cock, daddy?” she gave with such submissive pleading eyes.

“I’d hate myself if I weren’t to give you one, know you place, slut.” he sprung out his massive cock, twitching with precum just from her whines, veins popping but he chose to slap it across her face.

“Say, who is in charge right now?” he asked for more powerplay.

“You, daddy.” she replied trying to lick his tip as he inserted the entrance of her mouth.

“Suck it, suck it like you mean it,” he growled in a moment of satisfaction, he wanted her like this, taking in his cock in her mouth, wanting to shut that blabby mouth shut like this.

The girl listened to his demands, sucking him as if she needed that dick for so long, her cheeks hollowed, trying to earn more moans and heavy pants from him.

“I hate you so much I want to fuck that mouth of yours,” his hips pushed more, as the tip touched the girl’s throat. His hand held her head, as he fucked his throat as much as he want.

“That’s what you deserve,” he hissed, every thrust as he could feel the inside of her throat, the poor girl was tearing up from gagging off his huge dick.

“Deserved to be fucked by the mouth, can’t talk anymore?” he laughed evilly, going feral as she continued to suck as tears formed under her eyes, he wiped that tears off from her pretty face.

“You can take more, no?” he liked it, liked how much control he has right now. The girl shook her head but he didn’t like that answer, pushing his cock further in her throat.

He kept fucking her mouth as if she was a toy made just for her.

“That’s for the boys you have been fucking with,” he pushed his hips deep as the balls were touching her chins. He could feel his orgasms near in just a moment.

Before he cum, he took off his dick, giving it a few pumps as he came all over her pretty face, just like how he imagined. He grabbed his phone, snapping a few shots of the facial he painted on her face, as if it was a masterpiece he made. “Hey, that’s not-” she had no right to deny.

“Yes, it is. God, you look so pretty for me, Princess. I will be saving this picture,” he showed her the snap he took. “Gotta make it a wallpaper for me to stare,” he tossed the phone on the table. He carried her body in one arm, making it in a bridal style. She looked so small in his arms.

"I hate you so much," she whispered in his ears. She really hate in for wanting him so much, she wanted to see what will happen next.

“Hate is just a replacement for love, dear.” Blade smirked and whispered back, his breath now hitting behind her ear, giving a few nibbles on her earlobes, placing her on his mattress. He got on top of the bed, ready to fuck so she stop talking as well.

"No, it's true I hated you, Bladie," she could feel his hands roaming on her body, as if he already owned her as his.

“Keep telling yourself that if it’s going to help you sleep at night, darling.” He smirked again and looked down at her. Now that he had her pinned down, he didn’t know what was next, but he had some ideas in mind. “I could always make you feel worse, if you’d like?”

"I hate you so much that I wish to f*ck you," he growled, taking off the clothes from her covering her beautiful body, ripping the undergarments in one tear.

He gave her breasts a few massage, “Say you want me inside, slut.” he whispered close in her ear, as he placed his cock on the entrance of her wet cunt.

“I don’t-” she replied, to tease him.

“But I will,” he entered her folds, giving it a few adjustment to his size. He let out a moan of satisfaction on how tight she was.

“So tight, even though you are a whore. Take my dick slut,” he gave a few slap on her ass as he took off his dick, spun him in a doggy position, pulling her hair, entering inside her again.

“You want me to fuck you like a good fucking whore you are right?” he asked again, pulling her wrists behind her back with one hand, the other hand pulling her arm. The girl couldn’t even reply, mewling in pain on her scalp and the pleasure she was getting from below.

“Y-yes, daddy. Please. I want your cock inside me, use me as much as you want,” she moaned out, feeling him fucking her, pushing his dick, kissing her cervix many times, abusing it until she gripped on his sheets of the bed.

“Good, your wish is my command,” he slapped on her ass, thrusting his dick, bullying her gummy walls, faster. She felt so good wrapped around his dick. He wanted her like this for so long. She belonged to him, and him only, wanting to take control of her all night like this.

The room was filled with the smell of sweat, and the sound of his balls slapping on her ass, abusing her with slaps, moans and grunts in harmony, as he fucked her as much he wanted to fuck her life as well.

“God, you’re so tight for even, as a slut. Want this slutty pussy of yours,” he groped her breasts with his two hands, his hips pushing inside her body with greater pace penetrating that one G-spot until she moaned louder and louder.

“Moan louder so everyone can hear how much I’m pleasing you, Princess.” he bit her ear, he pushed the tip of his dick in her cervix to earn himself a scream by rubbing her clit for her, rubbing the bud until it goes numb.

“Blade, ahh!” he was fucking until her brain wasn’t working in pieces, she was obviously drunk from the fucks he been giving.

“S’so so goodd,” she moaned out his name, mewling in pleasure. “Want you, want you daddy, hnghh” she panted desperately asking for his cock to abuse her hole.

“P-please, I’m so close daddy, can I cum?” she begged, trying to hold for herself, as the bed started to make creaking noises.

“Do you want my cum inside you too, Princess?” he hummed, not stopping his pace, as he could feel her pussy tightened more around his cock, he didn’t stop rubbing the clit, pushing her to an edge of pleasure.

“Y-yes, I will take it, please, I need to cum.” tears were glistening as he kept the sensitive bud.

“Good, you will earn that.” his dick twitched, shooting all the white hot seeds inside that womb, in a massive load, riding her orgasms. He let out a low groan from the immense pleasure by the moment she screamed.

He wasn’t that cruel, wiping the sweat off her face, putting the tired girl inside his arms. “I hate you so much, but stay in my arms tonight,” he closed his eyes, putting her in his chest, touching her hair, kissing her forehead. The female Stellaron Hunter just nodded, giving him a smile, calling it a night as they both cuddled in Blade’s bed.

Hate and love there is no in between but, they are really in love right?

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

#blade x reader #blade smut #blade hsr #hsr blade #hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #dom blade #enemies to lovers #blade honkai #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #star rail blade #blade x you #blade x y/n #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x you #hsr x female reader

589 notes · View notes

jamespotterismydaddy · 18 days

Text

The Manor

modern!aegon x neice!reader

A/N: this is based off a short little blurb i did the other day. just thought i'd make it into smth more

WARNINGS: SMUT!!, DUBCON!, incest, exhibitionism perhaps, pervy aegon

WORD COUNT: 1,468 words

There’s nothing you hate more than family gatherings. It’s a pity really because you know you would enjoy them if it wasn’t for one thing… your uncle. Aegon torments you endlessly. It started small when you were younger, tugging on your braids like a schoolboy. Now, it’s the way his touches linger. He gets more and more reckless with each graze… each grope. Your brothers could see, his mother could see if only they looked close enough.

It’s your grandfather’s birthday today, a summertime celebration that you resent because it means a whole weekend spent at the manor and Aegon loves nothing more than a tantalizing, off-limits girl in a sundress.

“You wouldn’t deny your favourite uncle a hug, would you?” He says with a smirk as you walk up the steps. Your step-grandmother is oblivious as she beckons you over.

“Family greets each other with hugs!” She encourages, pulling you into her soft embrace before pushing you into his.

Filthy arms snake around your waist and you hate how your body leans into his. You hate how good it feels when his hand slips up your dress to give your ass a sneaky squeeze, fingertips just barely grazing your clothed pussy. You try not to gasp as you push him away, glaring at him for his perversion.

“So good to see you, little niece.” He gives you a wolfish grin before letting you walk away, if only so he can watch you go.

~~~

You get into your bikini after unpacking, wanting to soak in that hot summer sun before it sets. You venture outside to the pool just to see that you’re the only one there as Daeron and Helaena are down by the beach and your dumbass brothers are probably napping after the long car ride. As for Aemond, who knows what he’s up to. You walk over to a sunchair and lay your towel on it as he sneaks up behind you. You feel the ties of your bikini top undo with one swift motion.

You whip around. “Aegon, you bastard!” You grab the sides of your top to keep yourself covered but that only gives him the chance to tug down your bottoms.

“Ohh someone’s keeping herself well groomed for me.” He muses as you pull them back up and shove him away.

“Keep your hands away from me, perv!”

“If you want my hands off then why did you shave your pussy bare for me?” He smirks, stalking closer to you as you back away.

“Who said it’s for you?” You snark back.

That comment pisses him off a bit and he grabs your arm to pull you back to him. “Yeah? Like you’re fucking someone.” He pushes his hand down the front of your bottoms. “Not when you’re this wet for me.”

“I hate you.” You squirm out of his hold but he still sends you off with a harsh smack on the ass as you storm away.

“Sure you do, sweetheart!”

You make your way to your room, locking your door and changing out of your bathing suit and into a short sundress so you aren’t lounging in swimwear.

Gods, maybe he’s right about you doing things for him. If you were so disgusted by his advances then you would probably want to drown yourself in clothing, rather than dress yourself in such a tiny garment. And more than anything, you wait around for him, eventually falling into a mid-day slumber.

You’re awoken by the feeling of gentle fingertips gliding up and down your navel before fluttering across your collarbones. When your eyes finally open, taking their time because of how groggy you feel, you’re greeted by the sight of him with a hand down his boxers as he strokes his cock, looking as divine as a fucking god. This is when you notice that the bust of your milkmaid dress has been untied to reveal your pert breasts. You say nothing as you flinch away like a spooked mare, only glaring at Aegon with ire in your eyes.

“You were so peaceful when you were sleeping and now you had to go ahead and ruin it.” He gazes at you with such lustful hunger.

“You like to prey on sleeping girls?”

“I like to prey on you.”

“I’ll scream.”

“Nobody’s home… and I like it when you put up a little fight.”

He gives you a little smirk before lunging at you. You slip off the bed but you’re not on the side of the room with the door so there’s nowhere to run. He backs you into a corner but just watches for a moment, wanting to make you antsy. His lack of action makes you take your chance and you try to bolt past him but he just grabs you around the waist. You swing around him slightly but his hold is firm. Both of his hands snake around your struggling body from behind, his left holding your upper torso all the way up to cup your right breast and his right sliding up your skirt.

“You’re fucking sick. I’m your niece.” You spit out at him.

“You’re just as sick as I am.”

You struggle in his grasp but that doesn’t stop him from getting a firm hold on your panties. He tugs on them and you whimper at the slight pain-pleasure as he uses the fabric to rub against your clit.

“Aegon, stop.” You whine breathlessly as he manoeuvres the garment around to start pleasuring you.

“Give in.” He kisses at your neck. “I know you want to. You’re not saving face for anyone but yourself.” He whispers into your ear.

“Fuck you.” You murmur but it just feels so good.

“You will, whether you’d like to or not. Just give in.”

You know you shouldn’t. You know it’s wrong but you tilt your head back to rest on his shoulder giving him better access to your neck.

“Good girl.”

He starts nipping and sucking at your soft skin even harder now as he unzips your dress. You’re only in your panties now as he shoves you back onto your bed, his lips immediately moving to kiss your supple breasts.

“Such nice tits, baby. Maybe i’ll have a turn fucking them after I split open that tight cunt.” He chuckles as your slight shudder and then rips off your panties so he can bury his face in your pussy.

You can hardly think of how to react as he devours you with such fervour. Aegon has been waiting forever for this moment; he couldn’t keep his eyes off you since you flowered and he eagerly wants to taste you. He wants you to fall apart on his tongue, and then his cock.

And so you do. Your high washes over you like you’ve never felt before. That sick feeling that has created a pit in your stomach only makes it hit even harder.

“Mmm, Aegon.” You whine, fingers tangled in his ivory locks. It’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard.

He’s over you, pumping his length already before you’ve even had a chance to recover.

“Use a condom.” You pout, legs spread wide for him.

“Little brats don’t tell their uncles what to do.”

Your eyes widen and you can’t even move to stop him before he’s speared himself inside of you. His mouth is pressed to yours and he swallows all your protests before they can leave your lips. He kisses you with the same fervour that he ate you with as he fucks into you roughly.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He says after breaking the kiss, wanted a good look at your face as he ruins you.

“It’s too much.” You complain.

“Don’t be such a whiner.” He rolls his eyes and lifts your legs to push you into a mating press. If it was too much before, then it’s surely too much now as he somehow hits even deeper.

“Ah ah…” You let out little whimpers at the feeling of being filled so completely.

“God’s, never felt a pussy this tight. Knew you were saving yourself for me, baby.” He says cockily.

You can’t even form a retort, not with how cock-drunk you are from him pistioning his dick in and out of you. All you can think of is how close you are.

“I-I’m gonna cum.”

“Already? Didn’t realize you were such a little slut after only one little taste.”

He talks a lot of talk but once he feels your walls clenching around him, he’s done for. He only manages to get a few more hard thrusts in, fucking you through your high, before he finishes inside you.

Once you come down from your peak, you realize what he’s done.

“Seven Hells, Aegon. Did you just cum inside me?”

taglist(comment to be added): General: @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

#aegon targaryen smut #aegon x reader #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen smut #aegon smut #aegon targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #hotd #hotd smut

381 notes · View notes

fuckmyskywalker · 11 months

Text

Yes here — Anakin Skywalker.

— CW: 18+, SMUT. Anakin is married and cheating on his wife. Secret affairs. PiV. Bit of dirty talk. Anakin is married to the wrong person.

— a/n: As usual, I don't know what I am doing. Anyways… cheating is wrong friends, don't do it. This is just fiction 👍🏻.

"Keep it down or I'll fucking stop" Anakin growls right in your ear, his cock buried deep from behind as he cages you against the wall of Senator Amidala's apartment.

"Anakin—" You gasp quietly, your body arching back, his toned clothed chest hotly pressed against your back. "Not here"

"Yes here" He replies with a wicked smile, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head so he can sink his teeth down your neck.

With every sharp thrust you feel the climax approaching your body like a tsunami. This is wrong, it's so wrong it has been going on for almost a year now.

Yet it's something so wonderful and delicious.

First of all, not only is Anakin fucking you raw against a wall, he is also doing it with his fucking wife in the next room who's peacefully sleeping, thinking the two mighty Jedis guarding her door are doing their nightly patrol.

He leaves a reddish mark on your neck, something that will be really hard for you to cover tomorrow, but Anakin doesn't care. He is a selfish, disgusting bastard who's trapped in an unhappy married and in love with the wrong person.

He is also the most handsome, beautiful man you had ever seen.

When the tip of his hard cock hits that right spot inside your dripping pussy, you choke a loud moan. Anakin growls again, half turned on by it and half annoyed. His leather covered hand releases your hair and clasps over your mouth, successfully shutting your noises. He knows you're close, he can feel it by the vicious grip of your cunt around his length, and it only spurs him, his hot breath tickling your ear as he murmurs an endless stream of profanities into it.

His hips continue their relentless assault against your ass, his pants pooling at his ankles since he is too much of a horndog he's unable to be alone in a room with you without burying his dick deep inside of you.

"Look at you filthy slut" He whispers and licks the shell of your ear, groaning at the tight grip of your sopping hole. He is absolutely addicted to your body, ever since he met you.

Anakin regrets every single day of his life his marriage; And it's clear by the way he is fucking you into oblivion. Anakin longs for you, in every way possible. Anakin wants you, and practically owns you.

When you come around him is like touching heaven, as your eyes roll back and your muffled scream is enough for him to reach his peak and spill his hot, sticky seed inside of you, filling you up to the brim.

He continues anyway, prolonging both of your orgasms until it it literally hurts.

Although, ever the gentleman he helps you pick up your loose pants, securing the belt around your hips and leaving his hands on top of them as he spins you around and kisses you, his tongue invading your mouth and exploring it at his will.

He stuffs himself back into his black robes, guiding you to the couch of the spacious living room. Anakin smiles when you lay down, recovering from the adrenaline and the rush of your secret affair. Anakin sits down next to you, brushing your hair and kissing your cheeks, your lips, adoring the post orgasmic glow on your face.

"I love you" He whispers against your lips, his flesh hand tracing patterns on your bare arm.

"I love you" You whisper back, your eyelids feeling heavy after days of three hours of sleep and a long day of patrolling around the city.

Anakin lets you rest on his shoulder, as he brushes some hairs away from your face sweetly.

He could stay like this for hours, just admiring you.

The door of the main bedroom opens slowly, as the familiar brown eyes of the woman he is tied up with peeks from behind.

"Hey" Padmé says in a hurried whisper, careful not to wake you up. "Is she okay?" She asks.

"She's just tired, don't worry angel" Anakin replies in a low voice, careful not to wake you up. "Everything is okay, I'll wake her up in a few minutes"

"Okay" Padmé nods and pushes her long braid away from her bare shoulder. "Be careful, I love you" She adds before closing the door of her bedroom.

Anakin just smiles, his hand coming up to your face and caressing your cheek. His blue eyes look intensely at you, admiring every freckle, mole and curve of your face. You look absolutely breathtaking. He feels his heart bursting with joy next to you.

"I love you" He whispers, but this time, is aimed to the right woman.

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 English isn't my first language, sorry for any mistakes!

#𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 anya writes!#anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #Anakin Skywalker smut #anakin x reader smut #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker prompt #anakin skywalker x reader smut #anakin skywalker one shot #anakin smut #anakin skywalker fanfiction #star wars anakin #anakin cheats hehe #THIS IS FICTIONAL EVERYONE #star wars #star wars smut

2K notes · View notes

kitkatscabinet · 6 months

Text

Step into my parlour, said the spider

Stepbro! Simon x reader

Warnings: this one’s kind of deranged. Simon is a fucked up little freak. I mean it when I say this is dark, read with discretion. Implications of murder, and non-con

Word count: 1.5k

Once again 141 server bringing out the worst in me, @chxrryghost @cooliofango see you guys in hell 🫡

Before you, life was a series of dull greys and monochromes, there was no warmth, just cold never-ending darkness that persisted in the form of his father's abuse. That didn’t matter now though, because nothing before you mattered.

Simon is nine years old when the angel (you) starts to live with them, he’s got no clue how his deadbeat of a father managed to finagle another woman into marrying him but he pays little mind to his new step-mum when he has you.

You’re five years older than him, but you’re not like Tommy or dad at all. You’re kind and you tuck him into bed and give him cuddles and kisses that make him feel all fuzzy inside. You take him to the park and protect him from his dad. You try to hide the dark bruises that litter your skin, a consequence of shielding him, but Simon’s not so naive.

He grows up hiding in your shadow, falling deeper and deeper into an obsessively deranged love for his saviour, the only person who loves him and treats him kindly. He seethes silently, waiting for the moment he’s big enough to protect you instead.

By the time you’re sixteen, your mother has split, leaving you behind though you reassure Simon that you’d never have left him anyway. His father’s been out of a job for a while and you’ve been running yourself ragged to support Simon and Tommy. Tommy the bastard that he is doesn't appreciate the work you do and Simon is once again forced to grit his teeth and seethe as he watches you come home every evening like a zombie. Some mornings you don’t even make it to the bed to fall asleep, though Simon’s always waiting, dragging you under the covers before burrowing his way into your side.

You let yourself get degraded by filthy men that slap your ass and call you names just for a measly tip. You’re one of the prettiest people on the planet which, unfortunately, attracts a lot of attention from the disgusting dregs of society. Boys your age and older, far too old to even consider glancing your way. The few brave enough to hover are always quickly scared off by Simon’s intense glares, and he preens when you pat his hair in thanks.

His dad notices too and Simon comes home from school one afternoon to find the man on top of you, hands wrapped around your neck as you struggle beneath him. A plate shatters over his dad's head and it’s not until Simon is on the floor and his old man is red in face, screaming at him that Simon realises what he’s done.

You’re screaming and you shove his dad from behind, scooping Simon into your arms with adrenaline-fuelled strength you wouldn’t normally possess and are locking you and him in your shared room. Barricading the door and squishing Simon against you as your breath rattles.

You fall asleep with Simon nestled against your chest, none the wiser to how his blood chants with the fervour of a thousand men, mine, mine, mine.

The universe finally seems to give you a break after that, his dad leaves the both of you alone and not long after your 18th birthday you get a cushy, well-paying job as a secretary for some hot-shot lawyer. Though Simon gets a little upset when you spend all your money on him, new clothes, new books for school, a GameBoy, whatever he wants.

Best of all, his dad dies. The alcohol and drugs finally taking their toll on his body. (It’s not until a few years later that he’ll realise you were entirely too calm when the police came knocking. Serving them tea as you pretended to be shocked about the news.)

You get custody of him and Tommy and you move them into a much nicer neighbourhood. Though Simon’s not happy at having his own room and often sneaks back into your bed, knowing that you’ll simply sigh and open your arms for him, letting him snuggle against your chest.

Simon should’ve known better, should’ve known that his happiness wouldn’t last. It’s not even a year into what you called the start of his new life that he comes home one afternoon from school to find you sobbing into your hands, hair and outfit dishevelled. Though you refuse to give him the details of what happened he manages to put two and two together from the state of your being and the knowledge that you’ve been fired.

You take up waitressing again but it’s not enough. He’s not sure who ends up reporting it but a few days before his 14th birthday Simon gets taken away from you, no matter how much he kicks and screams. He tries to run away a few times but he’s always found and dragged away from you again.

You move away not long after, having been offered a once-in-a-lifetime scholarship. Simon tries to understand as you explain through tears, kissing his forehead for the last time. He knows it’s selfish of him to feel betrayed but he can’t help it. Can’t accept that you’re leaving him. He doesn’t cry, instead, he immediately starts plotting. This is just a minor bump in the road, he’ll spend every waking moment until he’s eighteen perfecting his skills and plans and then nothing will keep you apart ever again.

Time passes by excruciatingly slow, the only positive is that he’d finally grown even further, and had sprouted in height and musculature so much that he fears you might not recognise him. It takes him another extra year to find you, but when he’s twenty-three, with military resources at his disposal he finally, finally sees you again in person.

You’re still the picture of perfection, clothes hugging your form so tantalisingly that Simon feels his cock throb in the confines of his pants just from seeing you. He steps forward, weaving through the crowd of the market only to stop in his tracks when a man wraps his arms around your midsection. Instead of rebuffing the touch you lean back and smile against him and Simon feels as if the Earth has been pulled from his feet.

How could you do this to him?

He’s waited so faithfully for you all these years and you’ve replaced him? He watches as you kiss the interloper with a smile and Simon clenches his fists in fury so harshly his palms bleed. How many men had you let into your bed? How long did it take for you to forget him?

The plan’s changed. You’ve forced him into this. It’s not his fault that he’s had to plant cameras throughout your house. It’s not his fault that you’re so tantalising it forces him to break into your house, stealing your used panties to help get himself off. It’s not his fault you force him to learn you and your boyfriend’s schedule and it’s not his fault your scumbag partner doesn’t take his carefully worded hint to leave you.

Your boyfriend is dead. Unfortunate, but needs must. Simon watches you sob into your pillow, hard as a rock as he imagines licking the tears from your cheeks and decides he can’t wait any longer.

You’re so distraught that you don’t even notice Simon is in your house, you don’t notice until he swings the bedroom door open and you look up with a scream. He supposes he must make something of a terrifying sight, he’s a large man, and his face is covered by his trademark skull balaclava.

Simon allows you a few seconds to scramble around in panic before he crosses the distance, trapping your back to his chest and groaning as he humps into your ass. You scream, hitting at his arms as the tears start to flow anew and Simon throws you down on the mattress, weighing you down with his bulk.

“Please, you don’t have to do this” you beg with teary eyes that do nothing but fuel his arousal. He does take pity on you though, restraining your wrists with his right hand and using his left to tug off his mask. He watches as your eyes gradually widen, elation filling his chest as recognition fills them.

“Simon?” your voice wobbles and his name has never sounded better. Groaning, he rests his forehead against your collarbone, taking calming breaths to stop from cumming then and there. It’s okay though, he’s got all the time in the world now. You’ll spend the rest of your lives together, you’ll never be apart again.

#x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #kat’s writing #cod ghost #cod simon riley #simon riley

473 notes · View notes

samodivaa · 8 months

Text

┊Impure Thoughts┊2

《Part 1┊Reader x Bucky Barnes

Bucky is getting more comfortable with going out without the prosthetic. You are getting a little too comfortable with the idea of using it...as a pleasure tool.

Warnings - smut, fingering, fisting, oral (f receiving)

Words - 2250

⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄

Every secret of your mind is rendered up—from this new and intimate perspective, you have no choice, but to speak

“Lust,” you keep your voice pitched low “Lust is a deadly sin”

“And fucking yourself with my arm” His lips twitch, almost imperceptibly.

“I think that falls under lust” you whisper, sultry.

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

“I think it should have its own category” he responds sweetly, allowing a shade of mockery to infect his tone.

He is looking at you with amused suspicion—you have to acknowledge this tame remark about the whole situation sounds way too perverse. You try to remain cordial and calm. You don’t want to give him the impression you are overbearing in fear he would judge you.

“Bucky-”

His jacket then goes to the floor, followed by his trousers, shirt until he is only in his boxers. His eyes dart over the surface of your face, exploring you from a distance with his unspoken desire and an innocent and mesmerizing smile.

“Jesus, snezinka…you are so filthy”(snowflake)

you hear a mute moan of human tenderness— his soul actually hanging around your naked body and is ready to repent. There is a pleasant sinking sensation in Bucky’s stomach as he contemplates how deliciously it would be to do it himself.

Your eyes widen at his choice of words and, much to your shock, you find that you love his dirty talk.

You are on your back—legs spread—the metal fingers still in you.

A little bit of kink is one of the most delicious of erotic pleasures

He stumbles forward to the bed and your body suddenly surges with the heat of concentrated humiliation—you feel disgusted—tired of the lust, but it's so hard to refuse it now.

He doesn’t speak, his expression doesn’t soften. But he is hard.

“The scent of your arousal is so-so sweet”

He speaks and you have a difficult time tearing your gaze away from his pelvis to meet his eyes.

His blue eyes almost glow, his voice lowered, husky. The scent of you, the scent of—pure filth.

Those scents lay around Bucky now, tempting him, drawing him.

Your thighs tighten, legs tremble at the sight of him coming closer to the bed. You hear him swear under his breath and reach down to squeeze tightly the imprint of his cock through the boxers—he senses your gaze now as he grips his cock over the fabric, the friction is absolutely delicious.

“Keep them open, it is too late for shame, baby”

He has never before felt so overwhelmed—nor experienced such appetite—such impatience for the night to begin.

He licks his lips, panting hard as you spread your legs further, his eyes barely glancing over the moisture glazed flesh.

He groans, the thought of his head between those silky thighs, his tongue lapping the sweet moisture that produced that intriguing scent is nearly more than he could bear.

Bucky licks his lips and bits back an oath.

When he climbs onto the bed, the bed cracking under his weight—as he crawls towards you—you close your eyes, take a deliberate deep inhale through your nose, hold it for a few seconds before forcing the trapped air out through pursed lips, attempting to calm down your accelerating heart rate.

And an affliction more than describes it.

Your feet fevered, skin sensitive, ready for his touch. It is unlike anything you have ever experienced. It is unlike anything you ever wanted to know, feel.

Bucky touches the back of your thigh, fingers grazing lightly down to the back of your knee, grasping it and lifting your leg carefully over his shoulder.

Through the fog of dizzying pleasure you open your eyes—a hitch of breath when his fingers slip in and out of you really quickly

—this bastard has reattached his arm.

He observes your face; your eyelids have dropped low over your eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth. He squeezes your thigh, keeping your leg over his shoulder, his thumb gently tracing your skin and another low sigh leaves you.

You feel him withdrawing his fingers from your dripping centre. Then, one finger traces down your slit and starts to play with your tight rosebud.

You shudder from the pleasure that he is giving you. Feeling the pressure building up—your breathing becomes more labored. He keeps circling his finger in just the way that you love it and you can feel the beginning of the orgasm, when he pulls away.

Your gazes meet, he can see your eyes beseeching him to give you the release that you urgently needed.

“No, this is not what you have planned”

There is no fulfillment that is not made sweeter for the prolonging of desire

Two fingers glisten with the frothy cream of your body. After swishing his saliva around, he manages to clear his palate enough before bringing the fingers to his lips and sucking them slowly, his mouth watering from the irresistible tangy, almost metallic taste

—he has never tasted vibranium before.

You whimper as he takes them into his mouth, his eyes darkening on a sigh of both ecstasy and sin as he tastes you on his own fingers. His lashes lowered, becoming heavy with sexuality, his face is tense, tight with the needs that surges through his body as well.

“You always taste good—even better like that”

Bucky smiles, the curve of his lips tight.

He says as he runs the metal index finger along your slit, gathering some of the arousal, then circling it around your clit before dipping the digit insidе. Slowly he pumps, sending your hips bucking under his hand.

He adds another finger into her tightness and you mewls.

“Oh yes” The shocking words erupting from your mouth do little to dim the haze of need for more “Please. Oh please—” you are making little gasping sounds, Bucky looks down to watch his whole fist sinking in slowly, but surely.

“What the…how…” he murmurs.

The anticipation and confusion he feels at seeing his hand disappearing into you, also a kind of sensual pleasure, and surrounding it, like an embrace, a general elation—it is terribly inconvenient, no good might come of it, but he finds out for himself that he enjoys it, and it thrills him.

Your eyes lit up in glee, seeing his grimace of pleasure, the raw lust that transforms his face—as you finally get what you wanted.

Since he has done that for you, you suppose it was only fair that he wants it too.

“Fuck...please” you struggle to get out, overcome by what he has just done.

“Need to suck your tits”

He says, removing your leg from his shoulder, he leans downward to press a small kiss to the side of your neck and you gasp, head arching back as that rough, rasping tongue strokes over your neck. Slowly, he places open mouthed kisses up the of your neck, letting his tongue slip out occasionally to taste your skin.

His breathing increases in pace, coming out in a deep and fast rhythm, as he kisses his way across your throat to give the other side of the neck the same treatment and he registers that you have upped the volume as well, with quiet moans accompanying your sighs.

Oh, this will be so good.

Real good.

Hot, with a gentle abrasion that has you panting as he moves slowly to your breasts. He lavishes your tits with attention, his lips nibbling sporadically, which only adds to the arousal coursing through your veins.

The satisfaction of hearing your ardor-filled voice uttering his name with such need is indescribable. It fills him with such yearning that he could barely contain himself.

His cock aches to escape and fuck you—but is all about you tonight.

Bucky can only sigh, grinding a bit into the air, he makes himself elicit a growl against your skin in response, scraping his teeth lightly over the nipple. He groans, fisting into you harder now, hitting your cervix as your eyes, water up at the sensation of being so stuffed as he gives you more and more—him hand fucking you like that flips your brain inside out and turns your cunt to pudding.

You are mindless now. You can feel the sensations building—everywhere.

The wet squelches of your pussy make it clear that you are incredibly turned on. Bucky plays with your body expertly and if he keeps going you are going to come apart all over his hand. Your breathing speeds up and becomes ragged, broken moans interspersed between the gasps for air.

He meets your eyes as he pulls back and thrust his hand into you again. You are just blinking up at him, eyes wide as he bites his lip, trying to maintain a steady pace instead of pounding into you the way he wants.

Of course, you notice his reluctance—you shamelessly whisper—

“Faster”

“Tell me if it hunts, baby” he slurs the words as if inebriated.

He speeds up his pace, he’s panting, because he wants to fuck you so much—he feels the build of pleasure low in his abdomen as he slams his hand into you, the cool heat of your orgasm builds with each thrust—you clenching around him—shuddering against him.

It is not the easiest for the pace but the feeling of both your cunt getting filled by his metal hand and his mouth on your nipple have you coming, screaming out—his hand having slowed down to extend your pleasure—he feels you clench your inner muscles hard and your whole body starts to seize up, as the orgasm washes over. Lost to your pleasure, you ramble nonsensically; a combination of his name, pleas for more and thanking him for doing this.

He slowly removes his fingers from your cunt, giving the clit a small caress before raising his hand to lick off your slick.

“Different—” you try to catch your breath.

Shame is a soul eating emotion

“—different position”

Why drown in shame when you can have so much fun swimming in lust?

Oh, sweet fucking Jesus—Bucky wants to say, but stays wordless.

You are not ashamed of your needs—it overlays his heart with lust, too.

He immediately understands you and moves you like a rag doll—he maneuvers your legs so that you end up straddling him, your cunt is right over his head.

Bucky’s tongue rasps through the slit of your lips from bottom to top. You buck against him, greedily using his mouth and nose for your pleasure, compressing his face underneath your weight.

Slow, erotically rough and so hot you feel your flesh melting. His human hand grips your thigh, holding you down to his mouth—he slips his metal fingers inside of you, twisting and curling as he tirelessly works.

“Mmmm” his low moans of pleasure vibrates against your clit. You gasp for breath as he licks you, his tongue swirling around, gathering more and more of the taste as he groans in satisfaction merely from being suffocated, used—your enthusiasm, hoping the vibrations would likewise be your undoing.

Those sweet lips. Oh my, he could kiss those lips all night long.

He smiles mentally and continues the pleasurable torture, not playing on stopping until you finish. Bucky has to consciously remind both his hand and mouth to keep moving, concentrating the movements—your melodic sounds are way so distracting to his mind.

He raises his head for the last time and licks up the delicious slit, savoring the flavor, before focusing on your pleasure bud once again, his whole fuckin hand in your depths, fisting you, making you clench around the metal, your orgasm building.

Arousal is more potent than any drug on the planet as Bucky drowns, drinks you in as you start to tremble—endearing that you want to finish so badly, breasts sway as you choke, rapidly approaching your orgasm.

You cry out as tremors take hold of you, her body jerking and nearly slithering away—but the flesh fingers have you locked, his arm around your thigh, holding you in place. He keeps going until he can’t breathe anymore—you’ve managed to nudge him into the mattress, but he doesn't mind—he doesn’t mind at all.

He lets go of you and you tumble to his side. Bucky can’t help but grin as he turns his head to face you—his sultry lips and seductive—covered in your wetness.

Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own. All Bucky wants is for you to feel good—you are, and always have been, his dream.

“Bucky?” you ask against your better judgment. “How do you—do you want me—“ you clear your throat. “Do you want to fuck me or—something else?”

You are confused and you are trying to catch your breath when you hear a dark chuckle—you meet his eyes then, all wide pupils and rich blue irises.

Darker than you’ve seen before

“Do you think that my dick will be enough after all that?” he asks, quietly.

“What about your dick and your hand in my—” you manage to whimper.

Bucky is amused. Or speechless. Maybe something in between there.

⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄

Fics like that arrive all the same. And now it's here. Or should I say, I AM >:)

Tag list :

@wilsons-striped-ties @12345sebby @rabbitrabbit12321 @buggy14 @femefetalelevelingup @8crazy-freak8 @emily-roberts @francesca-the-1st @somewereinthegalaxi @princezzjasmine @erica2024 @vicmc624

#metal arm kink fr #TIME TO SIN AGAIN #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #smut #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes fanficion #bucky imagine #bucky headcanon #bucky fanfic

904 notes · View notes

sednas · 2 years

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐀𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑𝐒

// I didn't expect yall to like this idea so much, so here's a jjk version! //

⠀ૈ☆ tokyo revengers version

⠀ૈ☆ ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji, yuji, megumi, nobara, maki, toge, sukuna, mahito x gn!reader

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 looks at you like ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) “so? what are you waiting for? kiss me.” he laughs when you roll your eyes, delighted by the way you’re trying to hide your flustered face.

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 keeps his composure, not saying anything and smiling a little when he sees you in the corner of his eyes, looking at him. he purposefully asks you a question right after, only to hear you stutter.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈’s eyes twitch behind his glasses and he thinks to himself: “THIS IS HIGHLY UNPROFESSIONAL KENTO.” but all he does is mumbling an apology in his usual stoic voice.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 smirks and as soon as he sees your flustered expression he takes your hand in his, making you gasp in surprise, your eyes anxiously staring at him to see what he’s going to do next. while maintaining eye contact this bastard starts licking your hand, laughing immediatly after you violently try to escape from his hold. “you’re always so cute.”

𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈’s cheeks become as pink as his hair and he immediatly apologizes, secretly relieved when you say that it’s okay with a smile. he’s going to think about it every night before going to bed.

𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈 freezes for a few seconds, his green eyes falling on where your hand touched his. knowing how introverted he is, you quickly say sorry, hoping he won’t kill you. but he just shakes his head while shyly looking away. after that you can see him touching the spot where your hand touched his.

𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐀 let out a little “oh” before looking at your face. a few seconds after she furiously blushes, her brows furrowing while she quickly looks away. she doesn’t speak for a long moment after that.

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄’s eyes widen, and he’s lucky to have his uniform that hides half of his face because he is blushing. he turns his head toward maki, hoping that you didn’t see the tip of his ears getting red.

𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈 keeps her cool and pretends not to notice what just happened but you can see how her hands slitghly tremble. “is everything okay?” you ask her, and she just nods, blushing under her pretty glasses.

𝐌𝐀𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐎 smiles before disfiguring your body with his hand still touching yours <3

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 curls his lips in disgust before snapping your hand away. “get out of my sight, filthy human.” he says, lovingly.

a lovely reminder that reblogs and comments are highly appreciated ♡

jjk masterlist

#gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #nanami kento x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #yuji itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #nobara kugisaki x reader #toge inumaki x reader #maki zenin x reader #mahito x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen x reader #☁️. my writings!#🎀. jujutsu kaisen #🍭. fluffy

6K notes · View notes

frxxxncx · 8 months

Text

need to know - k. soonyoung

»boyfriend!¡kwon soonyoung x fem!¡reader.

»Summary: you just wanted to dance all night long, but the night had other plans for you.

»Tags: smut (MDNI), pet names, establish relationship, chocking, exhibitionistm, dirty talk (I suck at this, I’m not joking), degradation…?, sex in public, bulge kink kind of, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, it’s a little nasty at the end ngl, kinda mean dom!soonyoung, sub!reader.

»Words: 1.7k

note: This concept of Kwon Soonyoung makes me scream in my pillow every night. Need to know was my most played song in 2021.

note 2: Any typo or incoherence that you might find was completely intentional, it’s for the sake of learning about my mistakes.

Your pink mini-skirt danced gracefully with you, stroking your plump thighs softly, fabric barely covering your ass, chest moving slowly, contrasting with the voluptuous motions of your hips.

You felt aroused, only looking for your boyfriend's gaze from the bar counter, you were the one who proposed to go out to dance, but Soonyoung, even though he liked to dance was not in the mood to do it that day, but you were willing to make his cock raise proud, as if you had telekinesis.

You felt someone behind you, but you were certain that it wasn’t your boyfriend, you were going to get away from him but an evil thought crossed your filthy mind, you decided to use the disrespectful guy whom was gripping grossly tight your waist with his flagrant sticky and sweaty hands, you wanted to provoke your boyfriend, but his reaction was taking long that you expected and you were starting to get utterly disgusted by the stranger.

Still it was thrilling, you knew what was coming after this stunt you just made. The movements of your hips were exaggerated, while your hands were placed over the other guy. Gross.

It was extremely uncomfortable to feel the unfamiliar hands travel your body with that intimacy, but at the same time you shiver at the feel of Soonyoung's strong gaze over you. So he finally saw you.

The foreign hands disappeared, being replace for your boyfriend’s hot and heavy touch, you could hear clearly how Soonyoung shouted with rage “Fuck off”. A chill ran down your back, you knew perfectly what was coming and you were so fucking prepared for the consequences of your actions.

His hands were squeezing your waist so tightly, and you were sure the silhouette of his fingers was going to be engraved in your skin in a purplish color by tomorrow. His warm breath felt delicious over the back of your neck, body’s so close you could feel all of him pressed against you. Soonyoung tongue caressed your ear feeling the cold metal of your piercings.

“Did you like provoking me while grinding against that bastard like a fucking slut in heat?” He whispered, one of his hands getting to the hem of your pinky skirt, thighs clenching together at the familiar feeling striking your cunt, his digits travelled over your soft skin, and under your skirt, fingers stroking the fabric of your lingerie.

The darkness of the place played in your favour, no one seemed like they were able to see a thing, or maybe they were just enjoying the show, perhaps they were doing the same with their partners.

The rough palms of Soonyoung caressed your cunt over the silky fabric of your underwear, making you stutter in his arms, his left hand rested on your neck choking you slightly, enough to make you moan at the pressure, you could feel your slick starting soak the thin fabric of you lingerie, you were dripping like a faucet and you needed a plumber to help you fix the problem, most definitely.

His cold fingers sneaked inside your underwear, digits now dripping wet in your arousal, you shivered thrilled with his fingers now rubbing circles in your swollen and needy clit, your hips wouldn’t stop moving anxious due to the strokes that started to become faster and faster, putting more pressure in the delicate bud of nerves, his middle fingers travelled to your core, making his ways inside of you, your hands gripped his wrist tightly, retaining a guttural moan that was building up in your throat.

His ring finger joined inside, now both digits were playing in your warm embrace, rubbing into all the good spots inside of you, while his palm was fondling your clit, his fingers scissoring you, stretching your velvety walls. Your moans slipped from your mouth uncontrollably, and you were so glad that the music was so loud, otherwise everyone would notice how your boyfriend was finger fucking the life out of you.

“You pussy so cute and so wet for me, I can feel your cunt so deliciously tight around my fingers” he whispered in your ear, curling his fingers and tightening the grip in your neck “Come on, baby, beg me for it and I will give it to you” the kiss below your ear makes you gasp, breathing was starting to become difficult “Beg for me, just like the cockslut you are” a high pitch moan escape from you when his fingers stretched more inside of you, the burning feeling only making you wish for more.

“Please, please, I need you” you whine desperately, head pressed against his chest, arching your back and moving your hips, feeling the hard on in the base of your back.

“It turns you on, huh?” His hoarse voice behind you contrasted with he sensual music that was playing now, hand that was fingering you, now unzipping his pants hurriedly“I’m going to fuck you infront of all these people and you are soaking wet for it”

He lifted your skirt and moved your underwear to the side, you felt the fabric tear in your skin, and sighed at it, his cock was caressing your sticky folds, spreading all your juices on his shaft, sliding easily on your lips.

“God, you’re so ready for me” he purred, and without thinking twice he thrusted inside of you groaning satisfied after bottoming you out, a loud and guttural moan break from you, due to the force and the toughness of the thrust it kind of burned, but it burned so good that the coil that been building in your belly increased enormously.

“Ooh, baby, you’re so perfect, so good for me” Soonyoung’s dancer hips pistoned with an animalistic pace, biting your lips was starting to become a poor attempt to muffle some of your whimpers, even the wet and lewd sound was beginning to echo over the music in your ears.

Your velvety walls were clenching around Soonyoung’s dick, making him groan satisfied, the sound of his voice caressing your ears like honey, almost triggering your desired orgasm.

The pleasure filled your insides and your clit wouldn’t stop pulsating under Soonyoung insisting rubs, left hand gripping firmly your neck taking your breath away, the coil in you belly was so close to bursting, your hips trembling and colliding with his that wouldn’t stop pistoning into you, every thrust tougher than the other.

At some point, both of his hands rested on your belly, pressing not tight but just enough to make you see stars over your head like a pretty halo, his dick jammed inside of you and the pressure of his hands made you feel like your guts were being rearranged, everything was hot and narrow, your lips were bright red and glossy, you thought that tomorrow they would hurt so bad.

Soonyoung kept hammering into you, one hand pressing your stomach and the other taking your breath away once again, while his hips drilled into you fast and messy, your so desired orgasms stroke through you, body jerking forward as you howled in pleasure, while he kept grunting on the damp skin of your nape, and finally he let go of you neck. He plumped himself dry into you, painting your insides white.

And perhaps it was because you were on a public place or maybe it was the fact that your boyfriend just was exceptionally good at fucking you, but if he wasn’t holding you tight, you would be in the floor due to the overstimulation.

“Fuck, I think we need to go home” he said getting out of you slowly, hearing you whine in the process, now he was fixing his pants and holding tight onto you.

The words could get out of your mouth properly, you only remained clinging onto Soonyoung’s arm while his still warm cum travelled in the soft skin between your thighs, your cunt was sore, even then you could feel his dick inside of you, making you shudder, your legs were all wobbly and the sticky load was peeking from the edge of your skirt. Soonyoung felt bad about it and wiped it as much as he could with his hand, and then he fixed your underwear so his cum wouldn’t go anywhere.

You tried to walk while grabbing your boyfriend’s shirt tightly, but your legs just gave up and a mini scream came out when you felt like falling on your face.

“Sonnie, I can’t, my legs” you said, stuttering looking at your boyfriend with shining eyes because of the tears, still moaning quietly trying to stand still.

He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows and a smirk, satisfied of having fucked you so well you couldn’t even walk, but still he felt a little -just a little- bad for you, maybe he was to rough, you liked it though.

Chuckling Soonyoung gave you one last look full of joy and breathed out surrendering.

“Come on, pretty, I’ll carry you” he said before lifting you into bridal style, making you feel as light as a feather. “When we get home, I’ll make us a warm bath and I’ll clean you up very well, it’s okay, honey?” He asked in a childish tone, making you laugh and nod at the same time.

Once you were outside the club, Soonyoung made sure to put you in the passenger seat carefully but still a gasp came out of you, he zipped your belt and closed your door, and then he went to his seat.

During the drive home, you couldn’t help but feel a little bit tense because of the sticky mess in between your legs, but still the light burn in your core felt quite pleasant making your cunt pulsate.

When you finally where in front of your house, you sighted “Next time instead of fucking in the middle of the dance floor, better drag me to the car and fuck my brains out here” the embarrassment was starting to kick in, the liquid confidence losing its effects.

Soonyoung looked at you with a crooked smile "why next time when I can do it right now?"

476 notes · View notes

pawified · 8 months

Text

omg omg omg to add too mi post ( ♡ ) abt big brother choso & his best friend geto . . .

stepbrother!choso x f!reader. nsfw — mdni. ﾉ dark content ﾉ incest ﾉ dom and sub undertones ﾉ mutt + bitch name calling ﾉ mating press ﾉ implied threesome with geto ﾉ if u dnt like content like this pls dnt interact just block ! ! ૮꒰ྀི ୨ ៸៸៸ ୧ ྀི꒱ა

˚ ⨯ ੭ * ‧

geto is a sleazy , filthy , prevert. it takes him a year, to convince your brother too let him have his way with you.

of course choso being your caring brother, despite the circumstances that are about to take place, he tells geto he will let him fuck you but he has to follow 3 simple ground rules.

geto quickly agrees and that’s when the two boys start too plan out everything. — they go over choso’s rules which concluded the following.

# don’t cum in ㅤㅤㅤ⭑ ! unless i say other wise. # must wear a condom. ( im fucking serious geto ) # i'll tell her when she get's to cum. # safe word and or signal. she goes dumb sometimes, we have to make sure she is aware.

normal people would say choso is a horrible, nasty older brother for allowing his best friend to use his little sister as a toy, but what people don’t understand is that you aren’t normal.

you are just as nasty, if not disgusting. all this didn’t start because choso took advantage of his sister, no.

you’re a mutt. you’d always leave your bedroom door open in hopes of choso walking by and catching a glimpse of you changing.

when your parents would go out of town, they would kiss you both goodbye, with your stepdad instructing choso too take good care of his sister, followed by your all but innocent reply “ he always does daddy, he is the best big brother ever! “

it’s every parents dream to have children that got along well, but your parents are clueless.

choso knew he was cursed from hell, when you would slip into his bed late at night wearing nothing but your cotton panties pressed up against his cock.

how can you blame him for indulging in something so sweet but filthy.

He knew he was a dead man walking when he caught you humping your cunt against a black bunny, you like to call “soso” that he gave you two christmas ago before he went away for college, named after him.

He also knew he was a sick bastard when he never walked away, instead he looked through the crack of your door and watched as you cried out to him, while you rubbed yourself against the little bunny, “a-ah! choso, please let m’ cum! please i’ve been a good girl right? “ you panted against your bedsheets now toppled over the damn bunny.

choso knew he could never not go back to fucking you, especially when he had you in a mating press with your arms wrapped around his neck and his tongue down your throat.

so no choso doesn’t feel guilty about letting his best friend use you nor will he ever because his little sister is a filthy fucking bitch that will do anything her older brother says.

#˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆#𝑐𝘩𝑜𝑠𝑜 — ♡ ᵎ #decided to do a lttl drabble abt big brother choso !!#໒꒰ྀི∩˃ ᵕ ˂∩꒱ྀི১ !!! i hope evryone enjoys this #tw:incest #jujutsu kaisen #choso x reader #choso x female reader #choso smut #jujutsu choso #mean oldr brother choso ! nxt i’ll write abt him doin cunny spanks bc those r mi fav evr !!!#geto x reader #geto suguru #໒ 𝑤𝑒𝑛’𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑏𝑙𝑒𝑠 ১

866 notes · View notes

the-iceni-bitch · 4 months

Text

𝕸𝖆𝖉𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝕮𝖑𝖆𝖞

𝙾𝚛𝚌 𝙰𝚞𝚐𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚆𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚛

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚒𝚜 𝚟𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜. 𝙲𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚎𝚜, 𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞. 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚎.

𝙰𝚐𝚘𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝙰 𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚘𝚛 𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚜.

𝙰𝚕𝚐𝚘𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚗𝚒𝚊 ~ 𝚂𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗, 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚎𝚛𝚘𝚐𝚎𝚗��𝚞𝚜 𝚣𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜.

Words: ~1.1k

Relationship: August Walker x princess!female reader

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content (non-con, bondage, manhandling, cum marking), mean August, size difference, SMUT!! 18+ ONLY!!

A/N: I love a bad boy so much and I’m not even a little bit sorry about it. If I’m going to hell, so be it.

August grinned as he walked through the horde’s camp, holding the head of his conquered foe high and roaring before tossing it to one of his clansmen and instructing them to boil it so he could add the skull to his collection. His blood was still up from the battle, and there was only one thing on his mind. He took a mug of grog from someone before throwing aside the flap to his tent and striding inside.

“Little princess!” August threw his head back and howled with laughter when you flailed against your bindings as soon as you saw him, taking a swig of grog before setting the tankard down and starting to remove his leathers. “Did you miss me, little one?”

“Fuck you!” You spat at him when he reached out to demeaningly pat your cheek.

“That’s rude language from such a pretty princess,” This time he slapped you, licking his tusks lasciviously when you gasped and shuddered. “I’m assuming this means you’re still rejecting my proposal.”

“Of course I’m rejecting it!” You thrashed even more, determined to get free from your bindings even though you had no luck in your attempts during the past few weeks of your captivity. “I’ll never be the mate of a filthy, murdering orc bastard!”

“Tsk, how disappointing,” the way you were writhing and squirming against your bindings was making him hard, as it always did, and it only got better when you screamed furiously as he began to undo his breeches. “It’s not as though you have many options, princess. I just killed another one of those suitors of yours who thought he could rescue you. His skull is going to look rather fine hanging around my neck with those of the other failures.”

That made your already fraught emotions sink even lower, but you were determined not to let him see you cry. There were now four different prince’s and their armies who had tried to take you back from the horde after they had pillaged your family’s kingdom. Every single one of them was dead, along with their armies, and you didn’t know how many more would make the attempt now that so many had been killed. A sense of dread started to settle over you at that thought, but you refused to be defeated. So you just continued to struggle against the ropes that bound you, glaring at him and ignoring the way your eyes stung with unshed tears.

“I fucking hate you,” you kept your eyes fixed on his face while he pulled out his massive cock and started to stroke it over your restrained body. “You’re disgusting and I’ll never be yours.”

“Your stubbornness only makes the fact that you’ll eventually break all the more delicious,” August snorted when you jerked away from him as he gave your head a condescending pat, slapping you instead as his fist kept moving over his cock. “You have no other choice, princess. I’m going to have you no matter what, it will go easier for you if you submit willingly.”

You just snarled at him, tired of telling him to fuck himself and deciding to just try to ignore him instead. It was difficult, though, especially when he gripped your face and forced you to watch as he stroked his cock over your squirming body. The worst thing was that you were getting wet as you kept struggling, and he could tell, a wicked grin spreading across his face when his precum started to drip on your already soiled gown.

August just grunted with annoyance when you pouted and closed your eyes, rolling his own before taking his hand off your face so he could yank at the ropes binding you until they were flung over one of the tent beams so you were suspended in midair.

“Stop, what are you doing?!” You shrieked when he shredded your gown so it fell off you in tatters and left you naked as you dangled in front of him. “You bastard! Put me down!”

“Always fucking complaining. You’re lucky I don’t decide to shut you up by skullfucking you, princess,” he chuckled when that made you finally fall silent as your eyes lit up with terror. “Don’t look so scared, like you don’t enjoy everything I do to you. Remember how messy you got when I broke you in?”

“Shut up… stop it!” You thrashed wildly when he shot his thick cum all over your stomach and thighs, screaming when he grabbed one of your legs and propped it on his shoulder so you were spread wide open for him. “Don’t you dare touch me!”

He ignored you, smearing his fingers through the thick mess he’d left all over before reaching between your legs so he could rub his seed all over your swollen pussy. His first smack caught you completely off guard, making you wail when his hand cracked against your quivering folds so hard you almost blacked out. But then he leaned down and kissed you and you were brought back to consciousness against your will, gagging at the taste of grog on his tongue while his hand started slapping your cunt over and over again.

His treatment was brutal, it always was, but still your body responded to him. You cried and choked on his tongue as his fingers struck your pussy at a brutal pace, hating that each time he smacked your sensitive flesh you gushed juices all over his hand and trembled from barely controlling your climax. You held out longer than you would have thought you’d be able to, but after twenty minutes there was nothing you could do. August grinned and spat into your mouth when you sobbed as you squirted everywhere, rubbing your raw and sore folds viciously while you spasmed through your climax. As soon as you were done he released his hold on the ropes and let you drop to the floor, laying on his bed of furs and picking up his tankard of grog again as he watched you whimper and squirm.

“When are you gonna admit how much you enjoy this shit, princess?” August nudged you with his foot to turn you over and chuckled when you whined. “If you can handle this you should be able to actually survive carrying my baby. Of course you will be much more comfortable if you’re not bound and restricted during your pregnancy. So why don’t you take the night to think about how much better your life will be if you actually accept a role as my mate instead of just a brood mare.”

You sobbed when he rose to his feet and pulled his breeches back on, leaving you alone in his tent to consider just how miserable you wanted your future to be.

#natalie writes #monstrous mayhem #kinktober 2023 #orc!august walker #august walker #august walker x reader #august walker x you #august walker smut #female!reader #tw noncon #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #henry cavill smut #eighteen plus

370 notes · View notes

ranbitteeth · 3 months

Note

hiii i love ur art and ur fics!!🫶🏽

im desperateee for a reader rails mizu w strap fic😭😭 all the smut i see are of reader bottoming and that makes me hella dysphoric sigh

so so like reader stretching mizu out, lots of whimpering, mizu being nervous, mizu feeling full and claimed, just messy subby mizu taking big strap for the first time plssss😭😭😭😭 maybe some pussy eating foreplay idk, whatever u find best and fun to write. i just need mizu to be a subby bottom its plaguing my mind😵‍💫

A/N: Your wish is my command, dearest! Hhmmm I can never really tell if you guys want a modern/cannon compliant setting— but I find my words flowing easier for the latter. If this isn’t to your liking, I can always write another one! More modern and fluffy

Tags: Possessive!Reader, GN!Reader, Reader is besties w Madame Kaji, DomTop! Reader, Jealous! Reader, Straps, Tried to be historically accurate but one can only do so much research on ancient japanese dildos, takes place sometime before Mizu hops in the boat, Goodbye Sex, Misery.

About 3.8k word count, so I’ll highlight the beginning of the actual smut in red and a star! *

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Parting Ways— To London You Go

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You despised him.

The Blue Eyed Beast of Japan. The onryo. The bastard half-breed that killed the Four Fangs and cut through the Shindo Dojo. Now that was a man that deserved a dog’s death. A humiliating, painful, wretched thing— so much so that pity would spread like disease among even the most hardened of men. A white man had no business in your country. Much less some impure dog, chasing ghosts of white men who had long since fled the island paradise. You believed this yourself, once. The village gossip and fantasies of his approaching death entertained you, excited you. You’d hear of his dishonorable death one evening and you’d think —‘good riddance’.

But no one told you just how much of a darling he was.

You remembered that night to picture clear, the image of his slumped body in the snow so clear in your eyes and memory. His face was twisted into a pained grimace, eyes screwed shut beneath the colored lenses of his glasses— he reeked of blood even in the snowstorm.

Unbeknownst to your family, you brought him inside, ordered your guards to gently place his body in your quarters. The servants made no protest when they saw your insistence on saving this stranger. The wound was seeping a crimson poison onto your floor, red and hot and stinking of blood.

The two of you were alone when his eyelids fluttered open, pained grunts and whimpered muffled by his own teeth against his bottom lip. And you saw it. Blue eyes— unnatural, wrong, and positively lovely. You’ve seen oceans and ponds and skies with less of a dazzling hue. It disgusted you, initially, as the realization of who he was suddenly and violently appeared in your mind.

You hadn’t expected someone so…normal looking.

He did not have a pig’s nose or clammy, sun-abused skin. He was not a beast, giant and ugly— but a man. An injured man, you recalled once his blood stained your palm. Stained your floor, your bed and his clothes. You distantly realized your hands were moving on their own as they undid the binds of his old kimono, and there, beneath the worn, filthy fabric were binds. Not of injury, not of a warrior— but of shame.

Alone in your chambers on a cold winter night amidst the worst storm you’ve ever seen— you knew. The blue-eyed, vicious animal that had earned all of Kyoto’s scorn was in fact a woman.

You adored her.

Your home grew to be a sanctuary to her of sorts. For a being so well despised by the nation, the comforts you provided were scarce luxuries. A bed. A roof. Some semblance of protection. You cared after her like one would a feral pet, a feat which did not go unnoticed. With a blade to your neck and blood painting her hands, she demanded your silence— a vow to never break. As if you’d risk losing such a treasure to the hands of bounty hunters of white men.

The two of you danced with hate for months.

She was a silent spirit, a brewing storm on the distant horizon. At times, you’d catch her eyes on you, other times, she’d notice you doing the same. At times, you’d reach your hand forward and caress the scars on her skin. At times, she’d allow you to– going so far as to present herself.

At times, you’d make love to her. Your depravity was no secret to anyone with ears and working eyes— but your status and wealth made you untouchable. No one but your servants would hear her cries echo from your chambers, and no one but you would see her in the throes of pleasure, head tossed back, expression screwed into one of hesitant bliss and ecstasy.

Or so you thought.

She often returns to you like a dog would weeks after leaving. Loyal, endearing and silent. Whether it was out of some misplaced desire of courtesy or a genuine attachment, you did not know. You’d tell yourself you did not care, but Man would never be born without sin. Madame Kaji, the wonderful hag, would bewitch you in letters with tales of her ladies in the delights her brothel would offer. She mentioned a certain blue-eyed beast in her company in her most previous message. Her letter was pointed, concise, and utterly enraging. By its contents, you would piece together your Mizu’s night with a princess– of all wretched things. After months of silence, alone in your palace with no one but the one and off prostitutes you’d hire and the servants you paid deftly for their loyalty, and the samurai goes off to bed and abandone a lady princess of the Tokunobu clan.

Mizu would not show her face to you until spring. By then, your anger had solidified and festered into an untamable typhoon. As your servants led her to your chambers, Mizu would be standing dead-center in the eye of your storm. Something in her was different. Stronger, yet weaker. Kinder, yet crueler.

“You show your face here again?” You ask cooly, and at least she had the decency to look ashamed, removing her hat. Like this, you could see her properly. (You’d never admit to your anger cooling, but it did.) She does not harden her voice in your presence, but it is quiet, timid, shameful. Before she could open her mouth to speak, one of your servant men approach, head bowed deeply.

“[Title and Name]”, he’d say. Your eyes glance over to him, humming as you granted permission to speak.

“There is a white man inside, bound and immobilized.” He says quickly, bowing his head deeper.

“I only wished for you to be aware.”

Your cold, steely eyes turn to fix Mizu with a chilling stare. She only looks at you head on, taking the challenge. Oh…

“Leave us.” You say, but not before giving an order to boil water over a fire. The door is smoothly slid shut, and the two of you are under the illusion of solitude once more.

“I am to depart for London soon.” Mizu says bluntly, abruptly. You couldn’t have expected anything less. You give no reaction save for a short sigh and two fingers against your temple.

“I am closer to my mission than ever before. I have an informant, I have a boat, I have names.” She talks as if to explain herself, stepping closer in light footsteps, hesitant. “I may not survive through this. I only wished to say goodbye before I leave.”

For a moment, you say nothing. Your mouth is rendered useless as your mind rushes with curses. To the world, to the white men, to Japan, to Mizu, to the hellsite that was London itself. The poisonous concoction of rage and envy that had been brewing for months was bubbling and prickling beneath your skin– only now with the addition of grief.

“This would have been much more convenient in scripture,” you say, voice like hot iron. Mizu’s surprise is tangible, eyes flickering around your features, searching for answers to her questions.

“I adore letters. You know this.” You begin to say, moving from your initial position and circling the room, retrieving several items and placing them on the large expanse of your sleeping bed. You open a box, massive with weight. Inside is parchment, pounds of it. “I collect them.”

You suddenly and harshly shove the box onto the floor, a flurry of parchment and ink spilling at your feet. Mizu seems to shrink, but refuses to cower. Gingerly, you retrieve one excerpt sent just a few months ago from Madame Kaji. You hand it to Mizu, surrounding her. You wait until you are certain she understands what she is reading before you begin to speak.

“Never took you as the brothel-dwelling type.” You say, watching as those demonic, off-putting, oh-so-lovely eyes scan the characters on paper. Your eyes stick to her lips before you remind yourself why you are angry. You imagined those lips entangled with another, and your blood goes cold.

“Nothing happened between me and the princess.” Mizu says, turning to face you. The genuine confusion in her expression is almost insulting. “She meant to kill me that night. Our duel meant nothing. Madame Kaji knows nothing that is true.”

“Not every conflict between you and a stranger is a duel and Madame Kaji is a dear friend of mine.” You reply easily. The hurt in your voice was becoming clearer with each passing syllable.

“You truly believe sailing the seas will come so easy? Do you know how many men I’ve lost in my trades on those voyages? Do you even know what awaits you in London?” You begin to demand these answers, losing the control you pride yourself in as you continue to speak. As a man and a woman, Mizu was nothing but a stupid, lost soul, wandering the earth without an object to attach to. You then gently cup her face in both hands, watching in delight as she melts into your touch.

*“Do you even know how much I’ve wanted you these past months?”

Mizu cannot answer. Her hands raise over yours, fingers brushing against your warmer ones.

“I meant no harm in my absence.” She concedes, round eyes rising to meet with yours. Just like that, the room had shifted. Your eyes darken as they raked along her face and figure, recalling what lay beneath the layers upon layers of fabric she’d use to protect herself.

“You can’t imagine…” You whine, gently undoing the bandages around her neck to expose the delectable skin that lay beneath. Untouched, unseen by all but few. You bury your nose into the crook of her neck before your tongue darts out just to taste flesh and the blood that pumped beneath. Mizu sighs, noticeably relaxing into you. Her arms move to wrap around your neck in a gentle embrace, a position you’ve grown to love and grieve for.

“Gods, how I’ve missed you…” you say, assisting Mizu’s hands and hurriedly undoing her kimono before your hands run hungrily along her skin. Scars, so many more than you remember. A different rage boiled inside of you, protective and not directed to Mizu in the slightest. The two of you move in sync of tangled limbs and warm breaths against open lips. You push her onto your cot, the rage you had felt previously spilling out in the form of hunger. You attack her neck with the teeth in your mouth, suckling and biting down on her white-man skin until cherry-red marks bloom across her neck. She whimpers, coyly craning her neck and exposing herself further– presenting herself. Begging for it. Gods.

“You were away so long I’d almost forgotten what a whore you are…” you coo, undressing her wholly, spreading her legs around either side of your hips. As a surprise to no one, you noticed the particular shininess to the downy hairs on her wet cunt, groaning softly at the sight. Her smell, her taste, her color– you’d spend innumerable nights recalling these things in exquisite detail, going so far as to seek her in other women and finding not one suitable substitution. Your hunger had been building up for months, and now here she was, just as enticing as you remember her. Her teeth nibble down on her finger as she groans into the air.

“[Reader], I haven’t..” she starts, but you shush her before she can continue. Her loyalty only endeared you to her further, and you wanted to remain somewhat angry.

“I know, puppy. You already know who you belong to, don’t you?” You murmured, practically salivating at the sight of her glistening pussy. A whine catches in her throat, allowing you to see in real time her strength and tenacity fail her beneath you. The demon man was nowhere to be found here. You tamed that spirit and contained her in your chambers. You reduced it from a spirit to a man to a moaning, wanton little tart.

“Keep your legs spread and I’ll give you what you came here for.” You order swiftly, to which she nods and complies, spreading her legs further apart. You eagerly adjust your position so that you are resting on your stomach, Mizu’s thighs on either side of your head and your mouth just above her wet cunt. With only an aroused groan as a warning, your tongue descends onto her slick folds, eagerly lapping up the wetness that coated her lovely skin. It was positively obscene, the color and taste of her, the slurping sounds across the room and her whimpering cries as months of stress and anger fell away under your tongue. The poor thing couldn’t even keep her thighs from squeezing around your head, effectively trapping you against her pussy— but it was no matter. Your tongue swirled and massaged what it could reach while the tip of your nose rutted against her clit. Slowly, surely, readily— her raspy, hoarse voice bloomed into something far sweeter, and you could feel the ice around your heart melting. This was the Mizu you knew, without the clothes and glasses and false identity. This Mizu was the one you owned.

You feel her getting close, as it was always obvious with her. You felt her thighs squeezing around your head, felt them shake and tense while her hips bucked against you and her breathing grew more desperate. You feel it, she feels it— she wants it so bad she sobs into her palm. You both know better.

You pull away with a wet, obscene sound, ignoring Mizu’s frustrated groan into her fist. Your lips and chin are wet with her taste and both of your bodies are shining with sweat.

“What? Were you close?” You ask huskily, readjusting yourself so that your body hovers over hers, your fingers pushing in and out of her gushing warmth. You start with two, massaging her insides into relaxation, molding her to your desires. She impatiently pushes her hips against you, holding you in a desperate embrace. You do not hurry, you don’t even respond as you take her lips in yours, letting her taste herself coating your tongue. It was a messy, depraved display— one that made her noticeably wetter around your fingers. Her nails claw into the fabric over your body, tugging it off.

“Take yours off too…” she says in between breaths, eyes half lidded and watery with want.

“You think you can take it already?” You ask slowly, dead serious. Mizu nods, a slow and deliberate thing. Who are you to argue now?

“It’s bigger than the other one. You sure?” You ask again, making slow, hard motions against her wet clit.

“[Reader]…” she gasps, carrying a note of exasperation, her hands now trembling against you. “Please…!”

You laugh, breathless, exhilarated. Your lips gently press against her forehead, a soft ‘wait here’ and a quick trip to the corner of your bedroom later, you retrieve it.

You commissioned this piece long before you knew Mizu would return. Your very own harigata, hard as a tortoise shell, ribbed and heavy in size and weight. You expressed your desire to be able to attach it to yourself to please your lovers and so the artist complied. You held it up with one hand, allowing Mizu to gauge at the weight and size before stuffing it with warm cotton dipped in the previously boiled water at your side. Mizu hasn’t even noticed the servant come in, far too immersed in watching you align the phallus to her soaking cunt. She feels the heat through the tortoise shell and whimpers, hips trembling before she spreads her legs further apart. The head was already pushing against her hole, oh so ready to slip inside. Just as you mean to push yourself in, Mizu makes a strangled little noise and you cease in your tracks.

“Yes?” You ask, already breathless.

“It’s big…” she says, repeating the words you said earlier. You laugh, endeared.

“Yes. You want it smaller?” You ask again, but she shakes her head no.

She licks her dried lips before she swallows. “Don’t hold back.”

Unable to control yourself, you laugh, head falling beneath your shoulders and against her collarbone. Fuck.

“Tell me when you’re ready.”

You feel her nervousness in the tension of her body. As aroused as she was, it had been some time since she’s seen you. You begin with slow, shallow thrusts to get her accustomed to the feel, not going halfway until you hear her get noticeably impatient.

“Hold on, puppy. I don’t want to hurt you…” you say, but you push yourself in deeper to quiet her whimpers. The ribbed surface rutting in and out of her wet heat had its obvious effects. Her knees shake where they are around your hips and her head arches back as she moans, voice breaking. The harigata was doing everything it was designed to do and more. Mizu was falling apart so beautifully and you weren’t even fully inside.

Slower thrusts, still quick but less shallow, and she moves her arms to wrap around your neck in a tender embrace, holding your back to keep herself present. With you.

Some time passes, and you push yourself in further. You feel some natural resistance, Mizu’s breath hitching. You pause and pull away somewhat to check for her expression, finding her eyes wet with tears dripping down flushed cheeks. Her chest is rising and falling in ragged breaths as she struggles to compose herself long enough to get a sentence out.

“No! No, don’t stop. [Reader], please don’t stop,” she whines, cradling your face. You obliged and continued, though far slower than the pace you were going before. Mizu openly whimpers at this loss before she intertwines her legs around your hips by her ankles, keeping you close.

“Could that princess give you what I can?” You say suddenly, still feeling that burst of envy possess you as you rut your hips forward with a precision that only hours of fantasies and failed attempts to recreate Mizu’s body could give you. A shuddering, wanton moan later, Mizu’s hand flies over her mouth. You take that hand by her wrist and pin it to the floor, still thrusting your hips against hers with purpose and vigor. Not all the way in, not yet. “Well?” You ask. You demand.

“N-no…no she can’t…” Mizu damn near sobs, and possession coils in your gut as you push the harigata to reach new depths. Her moans are pitched and broken, you feel and see her falling apart. The poor thing felt so full, unsure what to even make of the delicious stretch your phallus provided or the hot arousal that being beneath you gave her. To some degree, she was yours, and you both knew it.

Feeling pleased with her state as she answered, you finally and gently push yourself in entirely, making her back arch and moans echo across your chambers like they did so long ago. The harigata’s other end pushes against you, makes you groan at the pressure. You look down at her whorish expression, her inky black hair spread like a halo around her head. You see her flushed skin shining with sweat, you see the tremble in her body and think about how much longer you’ll have to go without it.

“You don’t even know what you do to me…” You begin to ramble without thinking, words flowing like water from your tongue while Mizu moans beneath you.

You can’t help the way your hips begin to plow against hers, you can’t help the strength and ferocity that possesses you when you think of the distance that will be between the two of you. When you think of who she could meet and compare you to. When you think of yourself in the future, in bed, alone, aching for a body that will not be there. You cannot control the desire in your body when your hips move in a way that can only be described as primal, and she takes it all. Mizu has always taken what you give her so well, and it wasn’t long before you were both panting each other’s name against your skins, the room now hot and stuffy and reeking of sex. Her voice reaches a certain pitch, her nails claw into the silken fabric of your kimono, and you can tell she’s closer than ever.

A warm flower of pride bloomed in your chest as you realized that one day, if all went well, you could keep her for yourself. You’d no longer spend the lonely nights in your palace inviting women of the night to give you company. You’d no longer need to bear the crushing loneliness in your bed — not when Mizu’s mission would fail and she’d realize her rightful place at your side. Safe and warm. Protected. Yours.

You imagine fucking her day and night when she returns until she’s sore and trembling, unable to stand without your assistance. The mental image and the emotions it ignites inside of you make you openly and shakily moan in sync with her, and the two of you cum in each other's embrace. She’s damn near bitten through the silk of your kimono by now, drool coating the luxurious fabric. By now, she’s hardly the image of dignified, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You pull yourself off of her with nothing but a smooth roll of your hips and a near-violent shudder from the body beneath you. By then, it had all blurred together into a hazy memory of warm candlelight, golden skin, and warm, damp towels running along Mizu’s body and freshly fetched water poured into her waiting mouth. You only remember the rest you won for yourself that night, the two of you wrapped in a tangle of limbs and half torn fabric, warm.

But you wake up cold, and you recall why she came by in the first place.

“Would it be too burdensome to stay?” You implore, voice breaking with sleep and heartache. That worn, raggedy kimono is once again wrapped around her figure, her bandages back on. Her very aura is cold and distanced, and the weight of her decision truly settles into your skin.

“We can be happy, you know.” You say, almost pleading but with far too much pride to let it show. “I am in the mountains, far from the city. No white man could find you here,” You can’t being yourself to stand. You watch as her expression morphs from one of sorrow and pity to one of distrust, distaste, and near-resentment. Whether it is directed to you or her father, you cannot be sure.

With her back to you and her voice in the tone of a man’s, she bids you goodbye.

You find that— more than anyone— you want her quest of revenge to fail.

How you despised her.

And oh, how you missed her.

#blue eye samurai #bes #bes mizu #mizu x you #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai fanfic #blue eye samurai smut #mizu x y/n #lIGHTTT very light akemi x mizu #if you squint

206 notes · View notes

pursuitseternal · 6 months

Text

“Maybe we should fight more often…” update to “Bites in the Night:” Astarion x F!Reader, nsfw fight/reunion fic

Astarion x F!Reader |E| 4.7K of fight/reunion sex

Summary: He’s so insufferable when he’s hurt, intense when he’s angry, if only you could find the words to soothe that rage and tell him how you truly feel… And once you do, the reconciliation is just as intense and twice as worth it

CW: Repressed emotions, angst, hunger striking vampire rogue, anti-Gale jealousy, True Feelings Confession Again ™️, sweet snuggles and cuddles, semi-public make up sex, appalled campmates when it’s not so semi-public anymore

Read here if you prefer AO3

“Maybe we should fight more often, my sweet…”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“Well,” he sniffs, scanning his sharp, narrowed eyes down you, “look who dragged themselves back to camp at last. Thank you for finally gracing us with your presence again… darling.” He snips, acerbic in tone, his lips pressed firmly, arms crossed in that way that shows his annoyance with you. Astarion shifts slowly on his feet, all ice and disdain as you fumble to remove your armor.

“We’re in one piece if that’s what you’re upset about…” you reply, unable to fight the rising preassure of your own blood, matching his irritation.

“Barely, by the looks of it.” His gaze shifts to Shadowheart, busy healing Gale, his mortal skin spotted with bruises and riddled with slashes and wounds. “But perhaps I should thank you, after all, I’d rather Gale take the beating than ruin these magnificent looks, wouldn’t you agree, darling?” He sounds… caustic. Mean.

You meet his eyes, even as he stares at the wizard across the center of camp. His crimson gaze narrows, his lips draw in a sneer. It’s enough, your bile rises as you return his harsh tone. “Oh, so the rest of us tend to our wounds as you lick your wounded pride, is that it, Astarion?” you hiss. “You’re hurt I didn’t bring you with this time?”

“Wouldn’t dream of being hurt, dear. You’re the fearless leader, after all. I wouldn’t deign to force my many skills on you.” He flashes that wicked, twisted smile at you. “No matter how many of them you have seemed to enjoy to your… benefit before.”

You stiffen. Irate. Irritated so much you could… slap him. Your blood is running high at any rate after batte.

“Tch,” his eyes glance at your balled up fist at your side. “Don’t you fret any, darling, don’t expend yourself any more than you have done… without me. I can take care of… beating myself tonight… besides, your hands look filthy after all that,” he grimaces in feigned disgust, “work. And I, I have my pride, by beauty all in tact.” His hand rests on his chest, his whole body crowding you as he curls inward. So dramatic, so obnoxious.

Your whole frame shakes with your pounding pulse. “I hope so,” you huff. “Since you seem so full of yourself, I doubt you will need to so much as feed a drop from me tonight either.” You can’t help it, taking a single finger and prodding it into the middle of his hardened stomach. “No room in there for anyone else, it seems.”

“Perhaps.” He gives a dramatic wave of his hand, long fingers unfurling so gracefully. “Enjoy waking without feeling lightheaded and aroused, then,” he sneers.

You match his stiff posture, craning your neck to meet his furious stare. “See you in the morning, dear,” you snipe back. Watching as he turns on his heel and stalks into the woods. That rage swells inside you. Hands shake as you struggle to peel the remaining clasps and buckles open. You finally lift the plates from your body, throwing them loudly at your feet with a crash and a guttural scream that tears your throat.

As if the whole camp hadn’t heard your spat.

You bury your face in your hands, anger swirled with sadness tugging at your heart and souring your gut. He would not understand. Not when everything was just so… petty about him. Vain, arrogant bastard. Only thoughts of himself in that beautiful head of his. It makes you sick. Heart sick.

He wouldn’t understand.

Not when you were weak. Your thoughts only about… him. About how you couldn’t face losing him, watching his undead body actually look… dead. Watching his broken frame revived by magic at the last possible moment. Gods, you managed to survive it once. You weren’t sure your heart and soul could make it a second time. So you had to choose, injure his petty vanity, or risk losing him forever.

Now, you had to suffer the ire and loneliness that came with it. But at least he was alive. Your one consolation as you felt some distant stare from the forest line as you crumpled to the dirt by the fire. As if bright, crimson eyes watched as you fell apart.

You could almost feel it in the air between you. A wavering of uncertainty, maybe a single footfall back in your direction at the sight of you defeated.

But then, a hand rests on your shoulder, warm. Mortal. And your heart sinks as you look up to find it is not a smirking, pale elf offering you comfort. No.

It’s Gale. That tepid smile and those kindly eyes. He doesn’t need to say anything. Not that you would hear it. Not with how your ears are trained on the growl from the trees and rustle of something big in the underbrush.

You brush the hand from your shoulder, spending the rest of your night cleaning the blood from your skin. Alone. Sleeping. Alone. And you do wake in complete health, that fuzzy, tingling feeling absent. That slick you wake with down your thighs too, gone.

You sit in your bedroll turning your head to his tent.

But his tent is already packed, neat tidy rolls he might have spent hours making. You wonder how you didn’t hear it, you wonder more if he slept at all with how long he usually takes making sure his effects are perfect for your journeys.

That’s when you see him, carting a chest of his things to the side. His eyes lock into yours for a moment. Intense. Cold. Assessing. Concerned.

Then he breaks away. Whispering something under his breath as he strides away.

You’re still too tired, too… ashamed of how you feel for him. Too frightened to tell him the sharp thorn of truth that threatens to rip from your heart. So you begin the same process. Packing up.

Beginning your journey. Searching down your next potential cure. Day turns to night again with little event. Camp remade. And still he hasn’t said a word.

Only those penetrating looks you barely catch him making at you when your back is turned.

You’ve kept your distance all day from everyone. But you can’t help but feel the heated bristle that comes when your wizard does… anything. Hands you a bowl of fresh-made stew. Asks you directions about which trail to take. But the one that breaks your vampire rogue is when Gale tries to roll out your bedding by the fire for you.

You can almost hear his undead pulse spike, his nostrils flaring with enraged breathing. You turn just in time to see him rip the soft roll from Gale’s hands. Nothing more than a cold snarl on his face as he takes it, sweeping it on the ground with a flourish. Making sure he lines you up within view of his tent, you notice.

He crouches by your bedroll, patting it down, his lithe hands fluffing your pillow for you. That’s when you finally swallow your… pride… your fear of facing him. You tug your shift lower, already stripped down for your long sleep. Wishing the fabric was thicker as you approached him, to where he coiled at your bedside like the hunter he is. Your sweet, ruthless hunter, setting your bed arights. You kneel across from him and catch his cold hands in yours. “Thank you,” you whisper.

Those two words seem to startle him from that red cloud of rage he’s shrouded himself in all day. “For being a decent person, worthy of helping?” he hisses. “So good you can see it when it comes to the little, insignificant things between us. Shame you don’t let that extend beyond.”

“What are you going on about?” you shake your head, feeling his hands clench under yours before he yanks them away.

“Ugh,” he scoffs, letting that wounded tone sharpen his words again. “Like you don’t know, don’t realize how you’ve… undermined me. Leaving me here to wallow and drink while you go headlong into danger…”

He swallows. Loudly. His Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. Words he’s keeping at bay by clenching his fangs hard on his own lip.

“You… you’re hurt I didn’t take you yester…”

He gets up. Eyes narrowed to pinpricks as he frowns at you. “I thought we knew each other better than this,” he… he groans. “I thought you, of all people, knew me better.”

Astarion begins to leave you, you shudder. The reality of so much being said unspoken beginning to dawn on you. You watch as he grabs a book and flops himself down before his tent. That’s when you notice your cleric daring to approach him. Her voice is soft, his is biting and sharp. You watch her stop at a great distance, a question on her voice. You hear his exacting answer of, “No, fuck off. Not even Shar’s favorite princess can help me with this.”

More quiet mumbling. A wary look thrown over her shoulder at you with those concerned, tragic eyes. You watch as she hands him a bottle from her side. But he takes it, sniffs it, and tosses it to the ground at his side. It shatters, glass breaking muffled by its contents.

Even from where you crouch, you smell it. The stale metallic tang of old blood.

“Leave me alone, princess,” he snarls, “with all due respect.”

You watch her leave, Astarion buried back in the pages of his book. But Shadowheart’s look makes your heart leap right into your throat. She doesn’t need to whisper to your ear or your mind. He’s hungry. Refusing to feed. He’s angry, hurt. Irritable. Irascible. Intolerable.

And it’s… your fault. Your fear clutching that truth of how you feel too tightly in your chest. You look down at your hands, how they shake on the ground. Whether from guilt at causing his suffering or the fear of what you have to confess in order to ease it all, you don’t know.

“You know you have to tell him,” that soft, deep voice comments from over your shoulder. “Tell him how afraid you are,” Gale whispers.

You stand slowly, careful not to draw too much attention. Just. Careful. “How..?” you hiss under your breath, sure Astarion hears every beat of your heart let alone the words you try to muffle through your lips.

“I don’t need any spell to know how relieved you were that he was safe here. After all, it was just last week that we almost lost…”

You press a finger to your lips, you can’t even bear to hear that mentioned now.

“Sorry,” Gale mutters. “But you need to give him the truth. With all the lies he’s endured, all that has been kept from him for centuries, you owe him that.”

Breathing, sighing, you feel the weight of your confession growing. “Fine,” you groan, but it’s dramatic, affected. Really, your throat grows tight, your stomach twisting into knots as you turn towards the crimson and rose flaps of his domain.

You stop shy of the entryway, waiting. You know he sees you from his perfect periphery. You can hear his breathing steady, the slow tracing of his finger on the page as he prepares to turn it. But he… ignores you. You clear your throat, earning you a scathing glance from over the tome in his hands. Those eyes hold yours for a second before flashing back down to the page that hides half his face.

“Astarion,” you breathe, “please…”

“Please, what?” he spits through clenched teeth.

You pause, letting your body move instead of your words. You settle on the ground beside him, careful only to get close, not to touch. “I need to tell you something…”

He shuts his book, slamming it to the side as he turns his face fully towards you. You read it all in those etched lines and narrowed eyes. His hurt, his anger, his… worry. “If it’s anything to do with my newly appointed role as camp décor, then…”

“I… I couldn’t risk you…” you interrupt him. “I left you behind because I just can’t risk losing you. Not after what I already have had to do to keep you… to heal you from the other… fights when….” You swallow the rest of the story. Of when he almost died.

That fire of irritation chills, the hard wall of vain hurt crumbles. But the pain remains. “So you took... Gale?” he scoffs. “Gale will protect you? Gale will keep you safe?” He snorts unbecomingly through that handsome nose. “I doubt it. Not like… I would.”

You pause. His resentment, his pain… it was the same as the barbs that needle you with worry. You look into his eyes, that veil of anger melts as he sees how yours pool with tears. It’s so much, this ache you carry. “I’m so, so sorry,” your voice wavers with the unshed tears in your eyes, your throat. “I care too much about you to lose you…”

Those last words get swallowed in a sob. You bite your lip as it trembles.

“Really?” he breathes. Heavy and laden with much more than just a question should hold.

“I don’t know how I could face… anything, everything, without having you with me. That’s why I asked for you to stay behind. To keep you, for myself… That’s how… I feel…”

His eyes flicker over your face, centuries of looking into the faces of liars, a skilled student of deception, he can see it. Your brutal honesty. His eyes soften, his hands, reaching across the span between you to scoop up yours.

“I… feel it too, you know,” he whispers, all those silken tones stick in his throat, leaving his voice rasping and quiet. “There is nothing I wouldn’t do, fighting at your side, to keep you safe, to keep you with me always.” Pain flashes over those sharp features. They harden in that second. “And when you left me… behind… it was punishment. Agony. The massive uncertainty of not knowing if you would walk back in here covered gloriously in the blood of our enemies, or bound up in linens for burial.” His eyes fall to his lap, to where your hands are joined.

Your fingers squeeze his. “I was only… afraid of the same for you.” A sticky, tear streaked laugh comes from your throat. “Besides, we could have used you…”

He lets out a single low giggle, a smirk dancing at his lip as he turns to stare into your face. “Tell me, how badly did Gale fuck up? I want to know… every detail.”

“Horribly, more than words can say,” you giggle quietly.

He… just smiles. That hardened, long-suffering sharpness to his face instantly lifted.

And you… you feel it too. That pulsing comfort between you. His thumb softly stroking over the back of your hand, the inside of your wrist. Little tender brushes that aren’t meant to arouse, but to simply… appreciate.

Just as you feel for him. That little bud inside your heart, threatening to bloom into something more. More feeling, more possession. More… you stop yourself from being swept away by the depth of affection he pours on you, what with those wide eyes and tender smile.

You just wish you could be so much closer to him, to bind up all that pain and suck it from his soul like venom, to bring him into your very being. To meld your souls and share your fates. But, for now, bringing your bodies closer was all you could do, and you slowly shift yourself into his lap. The hem of your shift rucks up, but all you can do is chase that need to press his hard body and hardened soul against your thumping heart.

Instantly, you feel that wiry strength ease in every muscle, his arms wrapping around you softly. He guides your legs around his back, clutching you hard and flush against him. You can feel it, the cool hardness of his pelvis seeping into you, chilling you where you are on fire for him. His hands cradle your hips… you cherish him so close to you, the way his belly presses gingerly against yours with every breath. With a sigh, you rest your head on his shoulder, the top of your head tucked perfectly beneath that sharp cut of his jaw.

“Astarion,” you breathe inhaling his soft citrus scent, so many raw feelings splitting you open. He just shushes you gently, reaching for a soft blanket, wrapping its warmth around your middle. Its supple fabric is so warm, so plush, like everything Astarion keeps for himself, knicking the best, most luxurious things he could carry. The heat from your body seems to bleed into his usually cold and lean frame. For that moment, he just… holds you. As if there was no greater treasure to purloin in the realms than you.

His fingers wrap delicately beneath your chin, guiding you to look back him once more. Wide crimson eyes gaze on you, their soft intensity scanning your face, as if he is committing every detail to his long, ancient, undead memory.

He hasn’t murmured another word, and by the way his throat bobs with rapid swallows, you don’t know if he could if he tried.

The language of your bodies might just have to suffice.

You wrap your legs around him tighter, savoring the way his breath passes down your neck, fluttering over the dip in your neckline. “What is it you wish to feel?” he finally breaks the gentle silence between you.

Your brow furrows slightly, mind racing through so many thoughts… so many feelings and desires. None of them suffice. All of them frighten you.

Finally you force yourself to inhale, that scent of his skin going right to your head. “You,” you finally let a single word form your tightened chest. “All of you.”

You feel his hips shift, pressing his body, the planes of his stomach… and lower… firmly into your own belly.

“Not just your body, Astarion. I wish to feel all of what makes you…”

His eyes narrow slightly. A wince of pain gathering at the wrinkling corners of his eyes. “Some of what has made me who I am will feel… awful, unspeakable…” His voice is harsh as his body stiffens against you, arms gripping tighter in his embrace.

But you hold just as firmly into him, clung around his neck. “I don’t care. It is nothing compared to the pain that would be to lose you…”

Head cocking to the side, he breaks his stare from you. You hear his throat wet, hard swallows as his arms hug you tightly. Ever since your first embrace, he’s never shied from holding you, but this… this feels different. Desperate. Intimate. As if he clings to your soul by clutching the body that houses it.

“Then you won’t lose me, ever,” you barely hear the words. You aren’t even sure if they were meant to be heard. So quiet. Barely more than air from his lips.

Something loud clatters behind you, the smells of roasting meat and stewing vegetables wafting from the distant fire. You startle, trying to crane around to see, but his fingers return to hold your face fast and facing him. Something smolders behind those scarlet eyes now… that glimmer of hunger, a pang in your own stomach at the smell of food, you see its reflection in his gaunt face. But it isn’t food of which he is starved.

It’s you.

You witness that shift inside him, that awakening of the predator as he licks his lips. He pulls that blanket around you tighter. The thick material covers your back as his touch steals behind its curtain.

His hands are searching your body, caressing… exploring. Cold fingers slip into your lap, and you swallow the gasps as his touch brushes over your thighs. Skating higher, racing up your leg.

To find you bared already.

A sultry smirk teases one corner, a single brow arching as he looks into your face. Amused. “You come to fight with your lover so defenseless for… battle? I’m glad I did not underestimate you, darling…”

“I…” you swallow, feeling your cheeks flaming as you realize his fingers only delve deeper into your folds, even as the others in camp mingle around by the distant fire. “I’ve taken to sleeping like this… just in case,” you feel your own prideful, lustful grin turning your lips as he hums his approval.

“In case of what, darling?” He keeps that arrogant smile far enough away to watch your every little expression. “I want to hear you say it,” that honeyed tone sinks into his chest, barely more than a growl for your ears alone.

“In case, you… In case I… ahh,” you have to clamp a hand on your mouth to keep from moaning out loud as his finger hooks right on your clit.

“In case I… ahhhh-maze you with my seduction? In case I ahhh-rouse you with a midnight feeding?” He presses his lips on that column of your neck. Nothing more than a peck, but you can hear your pulse in your ears. “Mmm, speaking of feeding…”

“You could have swallowed that stock Shadowheart gave you,” you tilt your head where the shards of broken green bottle laid beyond the edges of his tent.

“But why should I, when all I want to feed on is right here…” his tongue laps at your neck, his finger shoves deep into your cunt. “To be clear, I mean both these parts of you, darling, in case you missed my meaning… any everything in between…”

You hiss, muffling your sounds of pleasure through bitten lips. “You know I didn’t come crawling over here just to ask you for sex…”

“I know,” he arches a brow in wry amusement at how you grit your teeth to keep from moaning, his fingers playing deeper inside you now. “You were too spitting angry to do that. Call it… a gift, a little something to sweeten our reconciliation.”

“I’d warn you… the others…. Ahh,” you pant mid-sentence as he hooks once more right across your clit.

“Tch, you know I don’t care. They can all watch if they wish. I’m sure it would be most instructive,” his brows furrow for a moment. “Except for Gale, I doubt any lesson would sink into his thick skull.” But his arm pulls that blanket around you tighter again. “But don’t fret your sweet sensibilities,” he gives you that rakish smirk and a gentlemanly nod, “I’ve quite literally got you covered, darling.”

His other hand shifts between your bodies, but you barely notice as you’re too busy feeling that heat and dampness building. His thighs raise your body slightly, and that’s when you feel it… when you realize what he had been busy doing.

As he shifts to have you sink onto his cock.

Your mouth hangs open. You aren’t sure if it’s in shock at his audacity or at just how good it feels to be so… connected after hours rife with separation. Hands grab beneath the blanket, pulling you flush, joining you so fully. You bite your lip, fighting the urge to push him down to the ground and ride him. But you give a shaky exhale.

Astarion smiles widely, his tongue rubbing over his fangs. “Come closer, my sweet,” he purrs, hands shifting your legs beneath you, raising you to your knees.

You groan, feeling the pressing, pulsing friction of his cock inside you dragging as you shift. You tilt your head, presenting your neck, a visible feast for his mouth, as you grind on his lap, almost imperceptibly, filling you to brimming. As you sink once more, his hips giving a slight thrust, his teeth slicing those razor edges into your flesh.

A grunt escapes your lips, loud. You slap a hand over your mouth to hide it as his mouth sucks and swallows, laps and drinks. Your ears train in the distance, but nothing sounds off… perhaps they’re used to you being fed on, by now, it was common enough.

Not as common as having his cock buried deep into your cunt, the rest of them unsuspecting, bustling around the camp. Barely giving you any notice.

He’s giving those little noises as he feeds, so hungry, you feel his lips sucking hard, taking what is his. The tickling of his tongue over your skin, the pursing of his lips hard enough to bruise.

He’s humming his approval, timing it to cover every little sway you make on his lap. Biting your lips, you grind oh, so slowly. Just enough to stir the friction of his cock deep inside you, the curve of his length pulsing and pressing against that tingling spot he sets on fire every time he fucks you.

And each imperceptible grind on his lap catches right on it. He’s shushing you now, bloodied lips grinning like the sated predator he is. So fucking proud of himself. Arrogant at how he’s slipped right in, conceited that no one else knows your dirty little secret.

“You’ll smooth over this little tiff by coming for me, won’t you, darling?” he rasps into your ear. Making you buck, hard and high, wanting nothing more than to feel him pummeling hard and fast into you.

“Yes,” you moan, so softly, “if you do too…”

“I’d never dream of it otherwise, my sweet…”

That’s when something cold steals over your thigh, shoving its way to catch on your clit. Your eyes flash wide, your mouth hangs slack in a silent scream as he circles his finger right over your clit.

“Hells,” you groan, “you want us to get caught?”

“Of course,” he purrs, “if they’ve watched our spat, the least they could do is appreciate our…” gods, he’s circled more of his digits into your honey-dripping cunt, “… reunion.”

“Hgnf,” you grunt loudly… and all your vampire does is laugh and feed at your neck once more. Letting you jounce on his cock at that subtle speed that he’s making increasingly harder to keep.

“Oi… are you both feeding or…” your tiefling’s merry voice is tickled with suspicion.

“Ugh,” Shadowheart’s jewel-toned voice chimes in, “they’re fucking again. Disgusting. Couldn’t even get her inside your tent this time, vampire?”

Your vampire only laughs and licks at your skin, hands now clutched at your hips. He raises you to slam on him now. “Might as well, darling. They sound so happy for us, so delighted we’ve reconciled,” he comments loudly enough for all to hear.

“Well,” it’s Gale’s voice that you catch next, not that you notice much else now but the all-consuming bloom of pleasure that’s taking hold. Now that you buck your hips against his lap with reckless abandon. “It’s better than fighting, at any rate.” He gives a weighed sigh as his voice grows more distant. “Leastways, they aren’t screaming and shouting at each other.”

“Oh,” Astarion gives a mirthful, taunting giggle. “Screaming and shouting can be arranged…”

He leans back against the pillows, grabbing your hands to splay them on your chest. You need nothing more. No quips or instructions or flirtation. You just let you body chase your climax, releasing all those swallowed moans and cries you buried in your chest until you didn’t know if your throat was sore from chastising your rogue, confessing your need for him, or from screaming as that hot bliss of orgasm wraps around you at last.

He’s clenching under you, tearing his nails into your hips, bucking and thrusting and pulsing inside you as he spews his seed deep. Until it drips down to smear on his thighs too.

“Maybe, just maybe…” he pants, rakish, contented smirk on his face as you gaze down at him with lidded eyes and slack smile, “maybe we need to fight more often, my sweet.”

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

To explore more, here is my Master List✨🩸

287 notes · View notes

konigsblog · 5 months

Note

what about,,,,,,mean simon raping sweet johnnys little girlfriend in front of him to show him how a real man fucks (:

anon, your mind :( 🌷🌷

tw: rape/non-con, brief mentions of weed and alcohol (tell me if i missed any!)

simon was a disgusting pervert. most people would assume that him being ‘perverse’ was just him having a high libido, always brushing it off when he groped women and touches them whilst they were close to passing out from either weed or alcohol.

yet, simon had a fascination with you, johnny's girlfriend. instead of touching other women, he targeted you, deciding that he'd show johnny how to be a ‘real man’...

with johnny's tied to a chair with rope binding his limbs and tape covering his mouth, he was forced to what the horrors inflicted onto you. god, how johnny longed to hold you in his arms, coddle and coo at you whilst apologising for getting you into this mess—for introducing you to simon.

simon was sick and twisted, as each thrust granted him more pleasure and gratification at the sounds of your pain and utter fear. your mouth was cupped by his large hand, removing it to allow johnny to hear your cries and sobs as he raped you over and over again ‘til blood ran down your soft thighs. the sounds of simon's pleasure make you want to vomit—and god, the sight of the blood... crimson liquid covering your thighs, cunt swollen and puffy. you were held infront of simon bent over and still standing on two legs. if you trembled to the ground, he'd rape you even harder, forcing you to stand on numb, weak legs that felt like jello from his relentless, mercilessly pace.

“wish ya’ were mine, pretty one--to show ya’ what a real man is like...” simon breathed out, forcing you to maintain eye contact with johnny, who was now crying breathlessly and shaking at the sight ahead of him. despite feeling disgusted, his cock reacted. it hardened and throbbed, causing a bulge to form in his jeans. he shook his head in disbelief, wanting to ignore the sensation in his lower regions. closing his eyes tightly and shaking his head, feeling as simon grunted and filled you with another one of his potent, thick loads.

“look, you’r boyfriend's gettin’ off to thi’...--mhmm, baby-he likes seein’ a big man rape his little, stupid girlfriend, don’t‘cha? filthy bastard...” simon chuckled and walked over to simon, taking his dick from his boxers and watched as it stood up and smacked against his abdomen, achingly hard. “‘nd you’re gonna watch ‘til she's passed out and bloody’...”

each thrust burns between your thighs, with your body feeling as if it'll fall to the ground in a matter of seconds. until it does, and even when you're passed out, he doesn't stop. he finishes inside you ‘til you're gaping and bloody raw. :((

#tw: rape #tw: noncon #orla speaks #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #ghoap

374 notes · View notes

monvante · 3 months

Text

persona non grata ╱ myg, 𝟏.

per·so·na non gra·ta: unwelcome or unwanted. not popular or accepted by others.

pairing: myg x f!reader

genre: suspense / noir / detective au

rating: mature | 18+

chapter word count: 3,067

content warings: crime, blackmail, missing person investigation, themes of violence and murder, 90's cult references, corrupt cops, mentions of physical fighting, cockroaches, depictions of dementia, substance abuse & addiction, reader is grieving a breakup;

next chapter | series navigation | masterlist

chapter i. goodbye, kanan.

Tuesday night, March 18th @ ViCAP Unit, Missing Persons Dept.

Your hands don’t feel clean. They just never do.

“It’s that same nightmare,” you rub them together, finding comfort in the heat.

Yoongi looks at you. He says nothing, because of course he doesn't. He already noticed the dark circles under your eyes this morning, how you looked at your cup of coffee with a bit more disgust than usual.

He admired your hatred, your devotion to your spiteful heart.

“Cockroaches.” Your sad chuckle is but self-mockery. Your gaze is crestfallen.

He’s left to calculate within the machinations of his mind whatever meaning there is in your nightmare.

Yet, Yoongi finds none whatsoever.

“Have you eaten?”

“Why?”

“Just asking,” he shrugs. “Take tomorrow off,” Yoongi hides his hands inside the pockets of his trench coat. His concern is disguised in his eyes, looking out the foggy windows of the department office. “You need it.”

“I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Let it go.”

“He was eight years old! He was a child!”

The air tightens in your lungs and your throat thickens with silence. You didn’t mean to sound so exasperated, you didn’t mean to sound like anything, but you’ll have to be the first to face your emotional ties to the cold case of a young boy whose face is ingrained in the back of your mind.

Yoongi gulps ⎯ it’s the first thing he does when the truth’s engulfed in his stomach. You glare at him, but he doesn’t budge. Not for a few seconds at least, taking a few steps back as he still refuses to look you in the eye. All cops are cowards.

“You wanna know why we got this case?”

Your brows perk.

“It’s not because we’re good,” he scoffs. “Last year... I confronted McKinnon about the money. He called me a snitch… I didn’t- I didn’t tell him you were in on it, but I figured he knew. That bastard just.. kept looking at me with those filthy eyes and I- I hit him, okay? I got him good. He deserved it.”

“Is that why you kept avoiding me all those months?”

“Kind of. He said we wouldn’t come out of it alive if the ACU so much as dreamt of it… So I kept quiet. He gave us a case full of dead ends and shit evidence to keep us busy… Said we deserved it.”

The Anti Corruption Unit had been onto the agents’ tail that month. Not that it matters. Nothing was found.

“Why– why didn’t you tell me?”

He runs a hand through his hair, slowing down his breath. In the same second, he fails himself and his fury comes out in full force.

“Fuck’s sake! And risk you being dead? Or worse?!”

There are drops of sweat down his temple. You can see them because the yellow street lights glisten against his skin and you figure he’s telling you the truth. Even if he wasn’t, you’d be inclined to believe him.

No one else in this godforsaken unit has a commitment to the truth like Yoongi.

Thursday morning, March 20th @ ViCAP Unit, Missing Persons Dept.

Agent Gerwig gives you a warm, tight-lipped smile when you pass her down the hallways. You hurry past the agents down the coffee machine, avoiding small talk and nearly tripping down the stairs on your way to Yoongi’s desk.

The insides of your stomach are twisting and turning as you rush inside, uninvited and breathless, waiting for him to acknowledge you behind his incessant typing and the meaningless emails he reads everyday.

Yoongi seems as still and lifeless as ever, which somehow comes as a comfort to you.

“Days off are supposed to make you look better, not worse. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He types as fast as he comes up with witty remarks.

“That’s because I have!” You spit back, fists closed tightly around the newspaper in your hands.

He quirks up one brow, enough for you to know you’ve got his attention.

“Here,” you toss it onto his desk. “Read it.”

November 27th, 1991. Solved case: Thanksgiving kidnappings linked to man apprehended by police.

“That’s Adam Bowen. He got arrested a night after Kanan went missing,” you huff, catching your breath. “They never considered him a suspect because… the timelines didn’t add up, apparently.”

Yoongi looks up at you from the large frame of his glasses.

“And?”

“Police always suspected he worked with his brother… but they never found enough evidence to prove it. They never even found said brother, the guy disappeared out of thin air and Bowen never told them anything. Not a word.”

He leans back, stretching his arms. His gaze diverts away from you or the paper altogether and he’s staring into space, seemingly at a loss for words.

“They got one brother, huh? Looks like it was enough for them to settle it,” Yoongi clicks his tongue. “Sloppy as all hell.”

In your heart, there’s some feeble hope, but most of it has been filled with despair and a fierce jealousy towards anyone who still maintained a sense of normalcy. Your last seven years have been haunted by nightmares, tainted by the faces of all the missing person reports hanging on your walls.

“We got a second half of the story to figure out.”

Yoongi nods. He closes off his laptop and puts his hands around his gun belt.

Friday night, March 21th @ Agent ___’s home.

Circe’s orange tail swirls around your leg before she’s meowing next to her empty bowl, with cute and threatening eyes glaring into your soul. You can barely catch your breath on the couch ⎯ you got shit to do.

Her paws trail happily after you once you’re pouring the pack of Whiskas onto her tiny plate, making a mental note to throw nearly all the home decor away before Easter comes. The apartment is filled with portraits, vases and candles Yuri generously left you with.

Such courtesy of your ex-fiancée to have abandoned all your memories and stories behind.

You’re running out of coffee, hope and sugar.

Yuri was not a bad man. It’s what you told yourself, once. He wanted the kids and the white picket fence life, away from violent gangs and city lights, where he’d craft the perfect nuclear family, worthy of homemade apple pies and Sunday barbecues.

But you liked the urban loneliness, your shoebox apartment and the green subway lights on your way back home. You liked the comfort of knowing every neighborhood like the palm of your hand, the ins and outs of every highway and the thought of heartless strangers passing you by, not caring for your name.

You missed him. His warm body pressed against yours and his golden, brown skin; you missed him selfishly ⎯ your comfort zone walked away and resentment grew alongside the fondness.

You hoped he was happy without you, but not too much.

When your co-workers asked you about him, a few days after he packed his bags, all you gave them was a shrug and a poor explanation, the kind that everyone does: we were incompatible, it wasn’t meant to be, I wasn’t ready. The list went on and on.

The only one to not probe was good old loyal Yoongi. He was indifferent enough to other people’s personal lives not to ask. When you told him, he patted you on the shoulder awkwardly and placed your coffee by your desk with extra whipped cream.

Saturday afternoon, March 22nd @ Rosefell Nursing Home.

Violet Bowen was not, by any means, what you’d call a reliable witness. She seemed pale beyond human comprehension and her words mostly consisted of hummings or muttering. The moment you saw her, you felt a sting of empathy too strong to ask her of her missing, possibly outlaw brother.

She had no other relatives nor close visitors, except for a caring ex-neighbor who’d bring her flowers every Friday. With nails painted a deep shade of red, she looked to be around eighty, but you couldn’t quite tell. Violet was in poor condition, plagued by dementia and the loneliness of lost loved ones.

Her caretaker is a vibrant, blonde nurse. A blonde Southern belle whose name tag read in big, uppercase letters.

CAROLYN R. NURSING ASSISTANT

It’s Yoongi who interrogates Violet, remaining unaffected by her lost gaze and brown eyes. He flashes her a picture of her brothers back in the 80’s, sporting what looks to be fluffy mullets.

She smiles then and her shaky hands point at Adam, but nothing else comes out of her aside from a gleam of life in her eyes. Even if she knew where they were, she wouldn’t tell them a word.

Carolyn’s smile grows disconcerted. Her hands lay on Violet’s forearm as she pulls a thick chunk of her blonde hair out of her face in typical Southern charm.

“I think my girl’s had enough here, yes?” She forces a grin, glancing over at Violet. “If you’ll excuse us, it’s tea time.”

Carolyn helps Violet out of her seat and into the cafeteria. You’re not sure if it’s bad timing or a deliberate attempt from the nursing assistant to end this conversation, but you’re leaning on the latter. Off they go, taking slow, mindful steps away from both of you.

You refuse to look at Violet’s way. Something about her made you want to cry your heart out; the thought of loneliness being an imminent threat to you, too.

“It’s pointless, Yoongi,” you mutter in your seat, slouching your shoulders. “She’s not going to remember anything.”

He hates to agree. Yoongi tsks, fiddling with his watch.

“Did you check her records at the reception?” He glances over at you, mind brimming with some sort of nefarious idea.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I mean- I didn’t check if she had any funds… It looks like all her properties and money were confiscated by the government, but I should run a background check on her bank accounts, to be sure.”

Monday afternoon, March 24th @ Tech Unit, Information Management Division.

Jenny’s doodles lie by her desk, making the room feel like a high school classroom. You haven’t spoken to her since December; what was once a blossoming friendship wilted away thanks to your cowardice and the desire to protect her from Deputy McKinnon’s claws. If Jenny found out, she’d jump the gun.

And she didn’t have the best aim.

Her Naruto sketches have improved greatly since you last saw them, a massive improvement for just a couple months. Both of you used to laugh at her poorly drawn stick figures, now it looks like she’s ready to take her comics career seriously. You’re happy for her ⎯ she’ll find a way out of this hellhole.

The air is thick and humid in the early Spring, but filled with an extra layer of awkwardness when she sees you from across the room. Jenny’s strides towards her desk are heavy with grief and resentment, but she holds her gaze your way.

“Have you had enough space from me after not picking up my calls?” She slides onto her chair, scribbling a few notes onto her monthly planner. “Long time no see, idiot.”

You don’t have much to say for yourself, even when your chest pangs with her affectionate, yet sarcastic use of the word idiot.

“A lot happened, is all,” you gesture sheepishly, hands reaching for the insides of your pockets.

“I can imagine.”

“I’m sorry, Jenny… I didn’t mean to-”

She looks up at you, eyes drenched with irony and something.. something which you can’t name. If it’s hatred or love, you can’t tell.

“Wat’cha want?”

You swallow dry and uneasy, unfolding the paper on your hand with Violet Bowen’s name and address. It’s crumpled and a little thorn ⎯ you were ready to throw it away seconds before coming into the Tech Unit.

“I- I need a background check on someone,” you mutter, lowly. “Bank account activity… Credit cards… Anything you can find from the last… thirty years, maybe?”

Your attempt at a chuckle fails, denouncing your regret. Jenny notices the furrow of your brows and how concerned you seem, ripping the paper away from your hands.

“Sure.”

The seconds fill with silence. You stand by her desk, waiting for a snide comment, a spiteful joke, anything. She looks at you like she knows you want to apologize again.

“Nice sketches!” You smile as a desperate invitation to make friendly conversation.

Jenny doesn’t cave in.

“You’re dismissed,” she nods at the doorway and hops onto her laptop. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”

Monday night, March 24th @ Agent ____’s home.

“Hey,” you mutter over the phone. “Just checking up on you and mom.”

“Finally!” Albeit sarcastic, your younger sister’s voice is nothing but chirpy, as it has always been. “We miss you, you idiot. You know that, right?”

Over the phone, you can hear your mom’s laugh and a few unintelligible words. It seems she’s adjusting to your dad’s absence. Somehow, you had stopped calling after the funeral. It’s not that you didn’t miss them back ⎯ you were sick of being flooded with memories every time you’d hear her voice. Like your dad was still there too, right beside her.

“Sorry, sweetcheeks. I’ve just been busy.” The explanations and apologies roll off your tongue.

“You know you can’t avoid us forever, right?” Her voice is so sober, it’s as if she’s older than you by a million years.

When you gaze out the window, loneliness overcomes you. The years spent playing hide and seek in your childhood home are long gone, replaced by miles of distance between you and your family ⎯ how you became so caring and so bad at expressing it like your father. You hate how much of you is made of all the people you love. And miss.

“You there?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m sorry.”

“I swear to God, you gotta stop doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“This.” She pauses. “Acting like we don’t exist. Seriously. We miss you.”

A pang of guilt flashes through your chest.

“I know.” Your voice is small through the phone again. In between the anxiety and the seconds, you fiddle with your bracelet. “I’m sorry.. It’s been hell.”

“I promised you I wouldn’t tell mom about your breakup, but she keeps asking me. It wouldn’t hurt if you opened up for once.” She sounds more hurt than angry, vindicating your mother after all the months you spent avoiding calls and texts under the pretense of your busy adult job.

Even in the softness of her voice, her words feel harsh. You gulp down a threatening tear, staying silent on the phone. She was still right, though.

“Listen, we love you, okay? I don’t know what kind of shit you’re going through because you won’t tell me everything.. but dude, please, seriously just come visit us sometime. I know you’ve got your job and all, but act human for once. Please?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll try. I promise.”

“Good. I gotta go now. Mom wants to go grocery shopping for some french-whatever-pie and I promised her I’d help. Give Circe my love!”

You chuckle, sadly.

“Yeah… Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll see you guys soon.”

When the call ends, silence deepens. It’s your own doing, you know, but that doesn’t make it any less suffocating. Even when you crave solitude, you’re just plagued by loneliness.

Wednesday morning, March 26th @ Java café.

Today, Yoongi thinks you look a little better. And by better, it means rested. Of course, your gaze is still very much zombie-like, with glimpses of terror in your eyes when you look away.

But in this line of work, it ain’t all rainbows and sunshine.

It’s never rainbows and sunshine, he realizes.

“So,” you sigh.

“So.” Yoongi punctuates, giving you room to breathe.

Your eyes are distant, watching children play in the puddles from last night’s rainstorm. The weather has been cruel to this city, punishing sinners and saints alike with a dreadful fog in the mornings and plenty of humidity to drive your hair follicles to the brink of insanity.

“Bowen’s alive, Yoongi. There’s a big chance he just… got away with it.”

Your words aren’t met with so much enthusiasm. You suppose it’s the skepticism in this field ⎯ even the good news don’t feel like good news. Before his questioning and theorizing begins, Yoongi brings up a valid concern.

“Why didn’t his brother spill his whereabouts, though? It’s not like Adam had any reasons to protect his brother any longer.”

“Unless he did.” You counter-argue.

“Why, though? It doesn’t make sense. In ninety percent of the cases, you know what happens. So-called partners in crime turn against each other. It’s good ol’ politics.” Yoongi leans back in his chair, nodding at the waitress for more coffee.

“Maybe he had something to lose,” you purse your lips. The biting of your inner cheeks is such an instinctive habit of yours that it barely stings until you realize how much tension you’re holding in. “Or someone, you know?”

“Several someones.” Yoongi blinks. “Do you remember the Mormon Heritage cult?” His eyes narrow as he scrapes the top of his head.

Your back and forth is interrupted by the local waitress pouring hot black coffee onto Yoongi’s cup. He seems like he’s on a roll today ⎯ it’s his third cup. That you know of.

“Uhhh, kind of. They were a thing in the nineties, weren’t they?”

“Yeah.. well… the Satanic panic might’ve contributed to that,” Yoongi nods, slipping his mobile out of his pocket. His fingers are hasty, typing up a Google search so he can word vomit every single fact possible. “But we know that the Jesus believers can somehow always be worse.”

He sounds so snarky, it earns a laugh out of you.

“The Bowens were around that time,” he says. “I mean ⎯ the connection seems unlikely, but with these people, you never know.”

You sigh.

“McKinnon didn’t give us this case for nothing, huh?” Even with half a smile on your face, you can’t help but feel defeated.

“Cheer up, buttercup. I think we got a lead.” He smiles with his teeth for once in a lifetime, raising his eyes from his phone to meet yours. You know he is up to no good ⎯ and that can only be a good thing.

“Buttercup?”

#yoongi fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts imagines #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x yn #yoongi x you #bts x reader #bts x you #bts smut #bts x yn #png: c001

149 notes · View notes

hobiebrownbrowser · 11 months

Text

General Touches

Earth-42 miles x stubborn FEM!reader

Context: The relationship between you and Miles is rocky but suitable. Wanting to be by each other's side but not knowing how to say without sounding desperate.

"Mild fluff" kissing, cuddling etc, nothing too 18+

Summary: 2 prowlers were already enough to take out one person.

Context: purple means Miles, Red means the Red Prowler(AKA Y/N=You)

Bad Spanish = blame google translate 💀

"Eyes on the target mami. Not on me." The girl groaned. Not being able to look at something so delicious was frustrating she wouldn't admit it though. Mechanical claws digging into the apartment building below her before leaping to another.

There "it" stood. A filthy rich man with a bunch of hypocrites by his side. She wanted to just lunge forward. Wanting to cut the white men's head clean off. But she couldn't. Not with a certain Upper stage watching further above her.

"Tell me why you're here again?" The question left bare as the target's movement changes. This was a one time opportunity. The last one she had to prove herself with fucking up this time. Her suit pulling back to reveal a sparkling red dress.

"Te ves espectacular mami." (You look amazing mami.)

"Piss off." She didn't let the prowler speak longer than it should, Fixing up her makeup before effortlessly climbing down the tall building. He'd have to teach her how to appreciate company, but maybe on a different timeline.

It didn't take long for her to go through the back entrance, Acting as if she was invited to the blood stained met gala. It left a demeanor touch but she was definitely the best dressed. The other women wearing cheap dresses that look like they came from the local thrift store nearby.

It was a fresh insight on not having to do the dirty work, Watching the well-dressed woman make her way towards the target with a hidden camera attached to her. She was a professional, seducing the man to let her stay by his side.

The white male agreed, only wanting her for her body and nothing more. It was sickening. He could treat her better, way better if she'd just give him a chance. But she was a stubborn brode woman to say the least, Dismissing his presence like he wasn't there in the first place.

He watches for any signs of discomfort, Face frowning in disgust as he watches the dead beat put his hands on what he wanted. He wanted to cut off his fingers one by one until nun were left, Watching him slowly bleed for touching what he wanted.

Yet he was infatuated, Often staring at her curves or a tight dress that perfectly shaped her. She was perfect and he wanted one night to fulfill her needs, Knowing she has many she hasn't had the chance to explore yet, At least not with him.

The sounds of shuffling were clear, The male leading her somewhere. It was showtime for him. Thinking of what she might do to him for the time being. It was sickening to think about, but he wasn't alarmed. He wanted to watch his 'chica' do the unthinkable.

The screen had gone black. Not before hearing a blood-gurgling scream after. Music to his ears that the bastard was finally dead and Miles could get his money, And his' Chica' back to his side. He watched as she simply walked back out from where she entered. Her suit complying with her body as she climbs up the paint chipped wall towards him.

The two glanced at each other for a brief moment, The red prowler not saying anything and just walking away. She was a stubborn woman indeed, But Miles was just as stern, Following the lady back to her payment.

"Are you gonna keep followin me all day?

"It depends." Miles short answer seemed to aggravate her, finally turning around and facing him. Her eyes narrowing. The top of her lip curving upwards until she rolled her eyes.

"¿Qué diablos quieres de mí, Miles?" (What the hell do you want from me Miles?)

"You to open up." His flat answer made her chuckle a bit, her face back to a dead monotone stare, Arms crossed and chin up peering into the exact same eyes she had. He loved how straightforward she was, But her mind was thinking of something else, as the silence grows louder.

Miles knew she was scared of close relationships. What happened to her family was her business but he got her to tell some of it to him, he was grateful that his partner was finally opening up. The relationship was rocky, but somehow it worked. It just did.

The silence was interrupted by a close line, Her work done for today as they both head home. The silence getting thicker every step they both took. But it was a calming period. Finally being able to wind down for tonight.

Y/N had gotten lost in thought, wanting nothing more but to feel Miles arms around her as they sleep the rest of the night away. If she wasn't so afraid she could say it without hesitation. But her mind always betrayed her thinking. Often getting in the way of what she really wanted.

"Estas bien princesa?" (What's wrong princess?) Why was he so nice to her even know she treated him like crap? Asking her how her day has been just to get no answer. He was patient. She hates how he spoiled her, His compliments melting her heart everytime.

"I'm fine."

"dime qué te pasa mami." (Tell me what's wrong mommy) She sighed before contemplating if she should tell him how she really felt, Deciding to tell him once they got home. Miles expected no less. Telling her not to back out once they get through the door. She swatted him away, knowing damn well it's gonna be a rocky explanation.

//\\

She wasn't ready for this, Feeling her heart beating out of her chest as Miles unlocks their apartment door. His hand placed on her hip to stop her from running off somewhere. She felt as if something was stuck in her throat.

The sound of beeping erupted her thoughts from the door opening, Her throat becoming dry. She felt her chest heaving heavily more than normal. Watching Miles intertwine his fingers with hers. She wanted to shake him off and disappear. Being led inside and straight towards the couch.

She stood in front of Miles who was sitting on the couch. Waiting.

"Dime mi amor." (Tell me my love.) She groaned, practically begging Miles to not make her do this. But he only raised a brow, his face inches away from hers. She loved the way he was gentle with her. Often pulling her in for unexpected small kisses.

"Necesito una bebida." (I need a drink.) Miles stopped her, Pulling her onto his lap as he looks at Y/N dead in her eyes.

Wrapping his arms around her waist just to trap her. She'd fallen into the hands of a gentle cuddly predator. Closing her eyes and finally giving in to some of her desires. Miles listening to every word she has to say.

It felt like a long night, the two getting things off their chests as it hits 2AM. He could tell she was getting sleepy. Her eyelids having a hard time staying open as she lays her head down on his chest.

He kisses her forehead, Feeling her flinch before relaxing in his arms. Finally giving into the night.

"te amo mi hermosa princesa." (I love you my beautiful princess)

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #prowler miles fanfic #into the spider verse #the prowler #miles morales x you #earth 42 miles #miles morales 42 #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 #42 miles morales #miles 42 #miles morales prowler #miles morales fanfiction #prowler miles

539 notes · View notes

anonimusunnoaniswriting · 2 months

Text

𝑴𝑫𝑵𝑰 🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀

Clumsy Office Intern

ReaderxGetoxNanamixGojoxShoko.

Follow up to this with dubcon Sukuna x reader, find it here.

This is disgusting filthy smut but also a full fantasy. I do not endorse such behaviour. Colleagues should help each other but not like this. It is wholly imaginary and such occurences should remain in fanfiction and porn and these biomes only.

Thank you for your consideration. Also Sukuna has blue balls here.

A big thank you to @ominous-meme for proof reading and beta reading. Love you, you evil bastard.

Silly little new intern at the office… Somehow things just always went awry when you were involved. Those papers that went missing; the printer jamming; that time you tripped and dropped coffee all over the break room floor. Forgetting to submit your paperwork and delaying the production pipeline…

So very clumsy, yet so eager to please. A cute little thing running around the office, your tight blue skirt hugging the curves of your ass. The billowy cream blouse you kept loosely tucked so it could hang and cover your pudgy belly. Your hair falling down your back in a pretty curtain. Trying so very hard to make up for all the teeny mistakes and accidents only to cause more as you go. So why weren't you fired yet?

Well, simply because your seniors covered for you. After all, letting such a cute little thing slip out of their hands wasn't what they wanted at all.

So Satoru helped you look for the missing papers, Suguru brought the mop out to clean the spill, Shoko showed you just where you could tap the printer to encourage it to move along and Kento – he was the worst of the lot – took the blame for you, not submitting your paperwork saying the task he gave you must have taken precedence in your mind and so he should have been clearer with you.

So when your boss yelled at you two it was Kento who took most of it, much to your embarrassment. But he did so happily – after all, he knew you would be making it up to them.

So now there you were in Shoko’s house, supposedly for karaoke, songs long forgotten and all of you with enough alcohol in you to guarantee a wicked hangover in the morning. And you were convinced that the best way to repay your kind senpais was with your sweet plush body.

Somehow you had been pulled onto Kento’s lap, back to him – “You were unsteady and I didn't want you to hurt yourself.” His hands that had started out resting on either side of your waist had slowly inched their way up to knead your breasts over the thin fabric of your blouse. Satoru – having long forgotten any sense of personal space – had his lips on the curve of your neck gently biting and sucking at the skin. Below, Shoko and Suguru worked together. While Shoko lifted your skirt and spread your legs, Suguru left a trail of soft kisses down the length of your inner thigh, creeping towards your panties, where you could feel yourself getting wetter.

A hand reached into your panties and you heard Kento’s deep voice rumbling in your ear. “Feeling good, beautiful? Would you like it if Geto-senpai was doing a little more?”

You nodded blushing like a tomato. Satoru, feeling left out, started tugging at your tucked blouse, still nuzzling into your neck.

You could feel his thick cock pressing against your thigh and he whined, “You smell so fuckin’ good my lil’ intern…Delectable…You should taste her Shoko…”

The woman’s wet tongue licked a stripe up the other side of your neck, landing at your ear where she gently bit your earlobe and began to suck.

All the attention was making a warmth bloom in your abdomen that slowly creeped down to your panties, where Suguru had found a home, laying his head on your thighs and nibbling and sucking at the skin.

Shoko pushed your skirt high, bunching it around your waist. Her fingers gently circled your clit, taking care not to touch it directly. And Satoru had given up on untucking your blouse and simply got Kento to unbutton it for him instead. Your once saviour now attacked your neck with fervour, grinding his hard cock against your ass, and Satoru’s brilliant blue eyes locked onto yours as he kissed his way up your stomach and pulled down a bra cup to take your pebbled nipple between his lips.

A hiss escaped your teeth as you felt him lightly bite down on it and simultaneously, Shoko pushed your panties aside for a long wet tongue to prod at your core. “Aahh- Geto-senpai!” You couldn't help but squeal, as his tongue explored the sensitive flesh around your pussy.

You felt the other cup of your bra being pulled down too as Shoko began to kiss and lick at the erect nipple. You wanted to move. To touch them. To feel them the way they were feeling you. But both Satoru and Shoko had effectively pinned your arms against the couch.

Satoru’s eyes reflected the ever changing light from the autoplaying karaoke videos, glinting mischievously. You had never felt so many hands on you. Despite experimenting in college, you'd been limited to one threesome at best. Every touch lit a fire under your skin.

Below you Kento’s breathing was getting heavier; it was almost like grunting now. He was the only one who was trapped, unable to work you, save for softly thrusting up into your ass, and the teasing was getting to be unbearable.

A single look at Shoko had her pull away the duo from you for a second and she lifted you from Kento’s lap and placed her lips on yours, soft and tasting of cigarettes. You lapped at her tongue gingerly, placing your hands on her breasts. Kento took the chance to unbutton his shirt and unzip his work slacks to pull out his cock from its restraint. Then he called to you, “Do you want to sit on it?”

Your wide eyes and enthusiastic response made them all chuckle. Such a sweet little intern; of course they wanted to help you out. No other office should have a perfect little girl like you. And the mistakes – those could be easily handled with time.

You went over to Kento who undid your skirt and tugged down your panties. You were going to straddle him face-to-face but the man stopped you. “Your senpais would like to see every little expression you make while I fuck you on my cock, baby girl. Is that okay?” You nodded.

Careful not to hurt either of you, you sank onto the thick girthy member standing at attention. Satoru and Suguru watched you with bated breath as you took all of Kento’s length, palming their own cocks over their pants. Kento allowed you to take the lead. His large hands splayed out over your thighs offered the support you would need. You were already so wet but he was large; filling you up well.

You began to move, testing the waters; all the grinding had left Kento sensitive, and he growled spurring you on even more. “Fuck- just like that baby girl!” Shoko kneeled in front of the two of you, splaying her tongue out onto your clit and letting you rock yourself on her tongue.

You felt so stretched, about to snap at any moment. Kento pulled your blouse off your shoulders and unhooked your bra, now thrusting up into you himself. Shoko reached up to knead your soft breast once again, rubbing down the bites previously left by Satoru; whom your moans proved to be too much for. Ridding himself of his trousers he took your hand that had found its way to Shoko’s head tugging on her hair and made you wrap it around his length; long and slowly getting harder.

From the other side Suguru took the opportunity to squeeze your cheeks to open your mouth and you hungrily swallowed his cock. Small twitches let you on to how much he was enjoying it. “So fukin’ good baby,” he moaned, carding his fingers through your hair.

The coil in your stomach began to tighten, every feeling blurring into one. Kento’s voice cut through the heady moans and gasps; he seemed to be having trouble forming words too. “I’m close. You feel so good around me baby girl. Keep fucking bouncing like that.” There were hands on you – you didn’t know whose – feeling up and down rubbing you. Shoko’s tongue working over your clit. A mouth on your tit sucking and nibbling as your hand stroked Satoru hard and fast now. He was the first to spill, sticky white ropes painting your hand as he twitched and emptied his release, making a mess around you. Your release chased right after, and you threw your head back in a cry, vision going white as you came sloppily onto Shoko’s tongue, creaming around Kento’s cock.

Kento and Suguru pulled out of you, still intact, and Shoko smirked at the men from between your legs. “I say we take this to the bedroom, don’t you think so, gentlemen?”

Your eyes widened, and Shoko laughed, “Surely you didn’t think we’d be done so quickly…”

On Monday, when Sukuna Ryomen entered the office, sighing at another week of work, his eyes fell on your lovely form. As your boss, he knew there were certain boundaries he shouldn’t cross but looking wouldn’t be any harm…or so he told himself. He noticed, however, that your eyes never left your four coworkers. If only he had known just how his team had spent their weekend …

AN: hi. Just wanted to say this was inspired by this uquiz result I got. I have no recollection of what the quiz was about nor how to get back there so oops. But I had this screenshot saved and thought up this ridiculous scenario.

119 notes · View notes