#moth’s waking from a dream

[manyminded]

agere hermit!tommy (+ some reg hermit!tommy) headcanons!

I wanted to do just agere but I couldn’t help but set up Tommy’s character a little more…oops! headcanons under the cut

Season: 10 (timelines? I’ve never heard of her) When did Tommy leave dsmp?: After his revival Is Tommy a hybrid?: yes, moth :] Who’s a little & who’s a CG?: little!tommy, cg!hermits

like most h!tommy fics, tommy ended up in hc by accident. the hermits themselves weren’t really worried - it’s 27 to one, after all. but tommy was. He put up an impeccable fight despite having no gear + numbers disadvantage anyways.

eventually it smoothens out and he becomes a “temporary guest” on the server “until they can figure out what to do with him” (sure. sure)

he builds his base out of cobblestone right on the world border. it’s a castle. cobble, because it’s his favorite block, and on the world border for two reasons - he’s a little insecure, on this server of grand building feats - and to stay hidden. he’s still wary. it’s instinctive.

the builders LOVE his base!! btw!! sure it’s crude and not that refined but no matter how hard tommy tries to conceal his pride/passion, they can tell. they try to subtly come over, give him resources/pointers/encouragement, etc etc. tommy doesn’t trust it (he does appreciate it, secretly. he won’t admit that to anyone [let alone himself] however)

Henry and Shroud have revived themselves. They have the same thing as Jellie goin’ on. They’re Tommy’s support animals <3 he doesn’t know know that it’s them, at least not consciously, but he named them after the old buddies.

now for agere time! mwehehe

Tommy’s been going “small” for a while now. Probably since pogtopia? he doesn’t have the words for it, never really did, but it’s been happening. he knows he’s not supposed to, but he can’t stop himself. (involuntary agere baybe!!!) He has a lot of unhealthy ideas around it - thinking it’s bad, mainly. a weakness.

he tries to hide it from the hermits. only doing it in the privacy of his own base, clutching a worn blanket in stubby and calloused fingers. he wanders aimlessly, babbling nonsense to himself. he hides whenever people find him during these moments. (Henry & Shroud try and protect him during these times.)

the first to find him is Bdubs. He came over to give some materials, and found a Tommy that is remarkably not-Tommy-ish. He catches on quickly.

Do the hermits have the words for it, either? Probably not, no. But that doesn’t matter. They’ve been across many servers, thousands of worlds, seen all the whims of the universe. They’re no stranger to this, even if they don’t know the terminology.

Tommy is mistrustful about this. He’s hesitant about showing this side of himself. He’s weak in this state - easy to take advantage of.

But this is Hermitcraft. They wouldn’t do that! Even if Tommy hasn’t internalized that, it’s true.

Tommy’s little self kind of has the inverse character development that his big one does. When he first finds himself in HC, he’s loud and reckless as a coping mechanism. Does he ever entirely mellow out? Not really. But the calmness does whisper in the waves around him. On the other hand - when he’s little, at first, he’s shy and quiet. Downcast. But as he gets more comfortable around the hermits he gets louder, braver, outgoing, and very silly.

Some of his favorite activities with the hermits: hiking (he gets to go in the MUD!! and play with BUGS!! and WORMS!!), building, making food, putting on puppet shows/plays, and in general just having fun! (most of these he’s just watching them do stuff. but, like, you get it.)

Stuffed Animal OBSESSION. he didn’t really have any in dsmp, but now that he has the space to express himself, he’s having SO MUCH FUN. multiple rooms in his castle are dedicated to his collection. The hermits love indulging him.

thinks redstone looks so so cool, REFUSES to learn how it works. like woaw prebby. you’re explaining 2 me what it does? hell to you! hell for one thousand years!!

has a pallet for warm foods, especially when small. angel milk, oatmeal, baked goods, you know. the one exception is ice cream (yummy!) and maybe candy

wasn’t very touchy at first, but now that he’s more comfortable, EVERY TIME he’s around a hermit he’s glommed onto them. It can be subtle, like hand holding, but more than not he’s koala-ed onto them. He’s defined them as “safe” in his head, so now that he’s around them more, the closer he is to them the safer he is.

very talkative. not usually words? Just random babbling. It’s how the hermits find him small most of the time - he’ll send random sounds into the server chat. Like “bla ba ba?” or “meep mrrp. grgrbr. pffff bla bla!!! keee!!!” and people are like. oh he’s baby let me fawn over him. he’s constantly blabbering. and like yeah the chat is just text but you can babble over text.

bedtime is HARD. he HATES IT and gets VERY FUSSY. it has to be SPECIFIC and WARM and NICE and PRETTY or he will NOT close his eyes!!! every hermit has a different way of handling this. and if the specific hermit does it different than the normal way they specifically do it it’s an AFFRONT TO GOD!!!

love love LOVES soft things. stuffed animals? yes. but also blankets, pillows, clothing, and secretly… fur. any hybrid hermits who have some are amazing because of this. He’ll fawn over them for hours, just petting them over & over.

loves the stars/nighttime. will stargaze for hours. it puts him into a trance, basically. probably because of the moth thing but like you know the stars are pretty !!!

that’s all I have for now. I hope you enjoyed :] I wanted a better concluding hc but I couldn’t think of one </3

P.S. if anyone wants to add their own ideas please do so. Might do a pt 2 w specific hermits or w the rest of the bench trio if enough people like this

#hermit tommy #hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #agere headcanons #hermitcraft agere #dsmp agere #dream smp agere #agere dsmp #agere Dream smp #agere Hermitcraft #should I maintain this?? #mcyt agere #agere Mcyt #Minecraft YouTube agere #agere Minecraft YouTube #moth’s waking from a dream #<if I make this a full au that’ll be the tag I use

[ceilidho]

prompt: forced throuple au; Ghost decides that you and Johnny are his (part 2; ghoap x reader) part 1

-

The hard part is admitting to himself that he doesn’t know how to function on leave without Ghost’s voice in his ear.

Johnny’s two days into his annual leave when that stray thought crosses his brain. Out with chums even, packed into the booth of an old pub in his hometown, the leather well-worn and a match on the telly that he half watches while one of his mates goes up to the bar to order another round for them. In between his third and fourth pint of lukewarm mild, he thinks something like, wonder what Simon’s up to.

The thought comes and then keeps coming. Keeps cropping up when he least expects. At the pub (wonder what Simon’s up to), in line at the grocery store (wonder how Ghost takes his steak), drowsily puttering around the kitchen while making breakfast (no way he wears the mask at home), listening to some guy in front of him hack up a lung at the dry cleaner (Lt’d do his fuckin’ head in if he was here), and even in the shower with his head tipped back, rinsing out the suds (wonder if he’s got a girl tucked away at home). 

Is it so unusual? Johnny can’t remember a time in his life when someone lived in his head night and day, but Ghost’s presence feels like an extension of his own these days. He’s cycled through girlfriends without a care in the world, without contemplating their existence for half as long, but they never cradled his life like a small bird in the palm of their hands and returned it safe and sound, did they?

Still, he feels it like a knot in his chest. Dreams about Ghost even; wakes up hot and hard, and scrubs his hand down the side of his face when he sits up in bed. Phantom memories of a body heavier than his weighing him down (just the duvet) and a thick hand curling around his dick (his own hand wrapped around his shaft, rubbing one out in his sleep). 

He shakes it off, but it follows him out into the real world. Looking at the door of a coffee shop and thinking absentmindedly, Ghost would have to duck under that. 

Johnny puts it out of his mind. As much as he’s able to, that is. Chalks it up to some kind of hero worship. He’s worked with superior officers before—plenty of times, hundreds of times—but there are few men of Ghost’s calibre, both in skillset and mystique. Not to mention the sheer size of the guy. And what is Johnny if not a moth to a flame?

Better not to ruminate. He casts the memory of seeing Ghost’s dick in the showers after their last mission (monstrous thing, uncut, pubes darker than the hair on his head, more than a mouthful—it’d give him lockjaw) out of his head. Doesn’t think about it. Laughs at a mate’s joke at the pub when he didn’t catch a word of it to mask the way he perked up at the sight of a wide-shoulder man until he turned around, giving Johnny a proper look at his face.

He’s not ready to think about it. Might never be able to really look at why he eats it up, why he struts around with his chin cocked just a bit higher than usual because he knows everyone else is watching him with equal parts envy and curiosity for being Ghost’s favourite. 

Then, one day, he meets a girl.

Johnny’s not winning an award any time soon for world’s best son, but he knows a thing or two. The first thing being chocolates and the second being flowers. His sisters handle the rest; they fuss about the party, get a gift certificate to the spa, send out the invites—all that fun stuff. He’s sent off for the bare essentials. Practically kicked out of the house by his oldest sister—nearly brains himself on the asphalt and tugs his windbreaker on when it’s thrown out the door after him a second later, grumbling about being the errand boy.

He picks up a box of chocolates from the corner shop (not fancy enough, his sisters will probably bitch, but that’s a problem for later) before heading down the road to the florist. There’s a bench out front stacked with tin flower vases, the only spot of colour on a dreary spring morning. He spends a couple minutes chatting with the cashier and flirting a bit halfheartedly (he thinks maybe it’ll be worth it if it gets him a discount, even five percent off) until the florist comes out from the back. 

“Jesus, who gave ye the right?” Johnny breathes, horse blinders on, vision narrowing on the object of desire coming out of the back in a linen apron and simple t-shirt underneath, scissors poking out of the front pocket. 

“The right?” she repeats back, blinking.

“To leave the house lookin’ so fuckin’ gorgeous. Glad I wasn’t driving when I passed you by—woulda been in a twenty car pile up.”

She’s not impressed in the slightest. It’s thrilling. By that point, the cashier is long forgotten. Probably not the best impression he’s ever made, but he’s made worse ones. It’s not every day he comes across an angel. Hard to be polite in front of a real life miracle. 

He wears her down over the week though, showing up each day for a new bouquet. His mam’s never liked him more, so at least there’s that. His sisters side-eye him whenever he ducks out of the house to head down the road to the florist’s, but even they know better than to bring it up and risk pissing off their mam. He interrogates her about flowers and her job, makes his presence unavoidable, a week long siege that ends with Johnny taking her out to dinner and then letting her take him to bed. 

He wakes up nestled in her cozy apartment above the flower shop, stretching out and making himself right at home. When she trades in her linen apron for a terry cloth robe and stands expectantly by the door, Johnny just grins. Shows all of his teeth. 

“Are ye just gonna use me and kick me out?” he pouts. Folds his hands behind his head and digs a foot into the sheets, trying to sink into the mattress. Little king in his castle. 

“You know, you don’t have to pussyfoot around with me. Weren’t you just trying to get laid?” she asks, brow arched. The disbelief thick in her voice makes it clear what she thinks of him. 

“No’ just some playboy, hen,” he scoffs. “I have feelings too.”

Her other eyebrow lifts. He’s tickled pink.

He plays the part well, he supposes. Lounges in bed and eats grapes all morning while she stares at him from the kitchen like he might dissipate at any moment. He’s used to leaving a false impression, like a lake that someone builds their house next to until years go by and someone says I think this was once a meteor. 

When she comes back to bed around mid morning, Johnny wastes no time pulling her up onto the bed until she plants her cunt over his mouth and sinks down onto his waiting tongue. 

Candy sweet pussy, he thinks blissfully, then says it out loud because he can never keep his mouth shut. It must tickle because she yelps and nearly pulls away from his face altogether, but he wrenches her back down, fingers digging into her ass cheeks a bit too forcefully. He’ll pay for that later. 

In the aftermath, when she collapses beside him in bed and rests her head on his chest while he plays with her hair, he itches in his skin to message Ghost. It perplexes him. They never text, he and Ghost; they don’t call, they don’t write, they don’t email. For all intents and purposes, their relationship ends at the perimeter around base, dissolves to nothing. It’s not Ghost’s fault he trickles into Johnny’s dreams sometimes. 

A week goes by. Calm the mind. He thinks of Ghost and his fingers tremble and the phone stays silent and he lets the thought go. Steady. Breathe in and out. His caryatid girl slips in and out of his sheets, hesitant always like he might leave. Johnny doesn’t know if she wants him to, wants to feel vindicated in her assumption, but of all her wants, that ranks the lowest in his mind. 

He spirals deeper into it, infatuated. She’s sweet but snippy, candy sweet with a sour kick—everything he’s ever wanted in a girl. Ever unimpressed, watching him with a small, hidden smile, amused despite herself. 

Johnny wonders if this is the universe waving its hand in front of his face. Yoohoo, missing something?

He looks pointedly away. 

It’s new, but maybe he’s like every other military man in the world, unable to go with the flow, dissatisfied with seeing where things go. He needs instant gratification, everything now-now-now, the certainty of commitment—he spills blood with everyone he knows, so why would his girl be any different?

Returning back to base is harder this time around. The last day of his leave is an exercise in restraint, tempered only by her smile when he sees her off at the door to her apartment, reluctant to leave. 

“C’mon, promise me you’ll call, hen,” Johnny mumbles into her mouth, catching her answer with a languid swipe of his tongue. His arms press her tight to his chest, digging his hands into her back pockets and giving a good squeeze, relishing in the way she squeaks. “How’m I gonna survive without ye, huh? They’re gonna have to jumpstart my heart after it gives out from missing ye so bad.”

“So dramatic. You have my number,” she says when he finally pulls back enough to let her speak.

“No, please, baby, please—promise me—”

“Oh my god, alright, fine—I’ll call. Now get going already.”

The drive back to base leaves him feeling bedraggled, lost. When he gets in, it’s straight to the barracks, an hour long nap before reporting to Price, dragging his feet the whole way over. Moping, for lack of a better word, until he rounds a corner and nearly collides with someone that stops him with a single hand on his shoulder. 

When he looks up to eyes rimmed in black paint, the world lightens. His shoulders lift. 

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Johnny.”

It takes Johnny awhile to bring her up with Ghost. Something keeps holding him back, choking him when he tries to say it outloud. He blames it on uncertainty (had to be sure she was the one, Lt, ye ken?) but he feels the truth at the core of him. When he does finally muster up the nerve to pass his phone to Ghost where her photo is front and centre, no mistaking his intentions, he waits on tenterhooks for a reaction. 

Only breathes out when Ghost asks to meet her. He can do that. 

“Aye, Lt. Just for you.”

#99% chance im gonna edit this to fuck before i post it on ao3 because im trying to properly balance the pov switch #also its not done yet #ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghoap x reader #ghost/soap/reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #ghost/reader #soap/reader

[ellieslob]

★ streamer ellie!

ways to help palestine!!!

S★ she started with fornite and minecraft gameplays but went viral for playing girly video games and screaming with pure rage and desperation if she loses or if her chat tells her the outfit she made was ugly asf😭

S★ she deadass will say “u guys clearly don’t know about fashion like i do” n then pull outfits like this:

S★ she used to be so fucking afraid that her face reveal went like dream’s that she posponed that shit for like a year. when she finally did it she ended the stream, turned off her phone and went to bed covering her body completely, while sniffing and crying “my career is over ”

S★ after her face revealed her account went even more viral, people started to make thirst traps of her and edits, videos, even fanfics, she got a little more comfortable with showing her face. her favorite edits were to songs like ride, baby by me, hey daddy (daddy’s home) and a song in spanish called vaquero, they were just so funny to her😭

iloveellie: she’s daddying so hard‼️

ewisinthechat: aw you guys really see me as a father figure?😺🫶

brondon444: 😭

kvcjjsaj: 😭

loverboydsa: 😭😭😭

“hey why is everyone crying in the chat, is everyone okay?”

S★ she really loves the cat emojis, specially this one 😻

S★ out of all her platforms (aside from twitch) she uses twitter the most, she tweets without a second thought in that head, without filter, like zero hesitation and then apologizes if she said something way too controversial.

ewisinthechat2: have you had that feeling when someone is so stupid you want to stab your eye with a fork? #kys

ewisinthechat2: k, i guess u have not😅…

S★ she was practically new to tiktok, so the first moths she had her likes public, she didn’t even know that was possible on the app. but if you click on it all you could see were shit post and memes that a dad would like, all except for a big section of aprox thirteen videos, one after the other, all with the same girl.

sckerforellie18: did u guys saw ellie’s likes? i think she’s stalking that poor girl😭

slaybabesew: HAHAH WAIT IS REAL, IS SHE HER GILFRIEND???

elliesaheymamasg: she’s so hot wait😩

heyemogirlbb: it’s her @girlypop666

S★ the chat started to tag you to every single one of her videos on tiktok, her photos on instagram, tagging you on things like “hi, could you please date my mom?🤗” or “my new mommie😻” EVEN in her questionable tweets telling you “we know she’s crazy but give her a chance😭”

S★ one day you waked up to your phone being practically broken from all the notifications, you still had your little pink iphone 6 and you had to buy another one because of it.

Instagram

girlypop: hi um i don’t think we really know each other but people are tagging me on your videos😭 love them though

S★ ellie was in a stream, the chat had to make her laugh and spit the water so she was reacting to videos that her chat had send her. when that notification appear on the screen, she read it, gulped the water, looked dead ass serious at the camera and turned off the stream.

elliewilliasm: omg hi, im so sorry i didn’t know, I’ll tell them to spot

elliewilliasm: spot*

elliewilliasm: STOP**😭

you laughed in your new phone, she was funny, and for what you had seen in all the posts that you were tagged on, very pretty too.

girlypop: hey would you like to grab coffee sometime?

ewisinthechat: TO EVERYBODY IN THE CHAT, THANK YOU, YOU GUYS ARE THE FUCKIN BEST, LOVE YALL, IM SO LUCKY TO HAVE YOU, XOXO😻😻😻😻

GIVEAWAY COMIN FUCKIN SOON💯💯‼️

S★ she was exhausted when she jumped to her bed, after all the crying, screaming, jumping and the extreme tweeting that just said “YESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYESYES”, she unlocked her phone again.

elliewiliasm: yeah sure :)

REBLOG AND COMENT

IF YOU WANT TO BE IN THE TAG LIST

#ellie williams headcanons #ellie williams #ellie x y/n #ellie x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #tlou #the last of us

[qingxin-dream]

“My Sweet Angel”

summary | months of repressed feelings bubble to the surface one night, but you’re fast asleep while wanderer is lost in his own thoughts secretly pining for you. but, uh…pining might be an understatement. (art credits: @/1eternalstar on twitter).

warnings | wanderer is down so bad, obsession, profanity, smut [18+, MDNI], dubcon, female-bodied reader, somnophilia, aphrodisiac/drugging, masturbation, edging/orgasm denial, oral f!receiving, bondage, temperature/element play, worship, slight degradation/praise, creampie

genre | pure, filthy smut (happy kinktober!🎃)

word count | 2.8k

pairing | wanderer x reader

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

A small, breathless gasp ripples through the silence of the night. The sound of crickets and cicadas is but a low roar in the background, barely enough to mask the melody of your traveling companion’s sweet, subdued moans. Merely a foot away is your sleeping form, quietly snoozing with your pretty lashes resting on your cheeks. Your silhouette is ethereal, like an angel banished from heaven finding solace in the moonlight with her wings tucked safely away.

Wanderer’s attention ceaselessly gravitated toward you. It seemed to be a natural reaction. Instinctual, even. He admired you with the deepest devotion, seconds turning into hours. There was a part of him, something long buried and locked away, which surfaced in his chest like a breath of fresh air.

Your hair cascades perfectly over your shoulders, framing the soft shape of your face. Your rosy lips part in a faint sigh. The occasional incoherent mumble of your dreams causes his ears to perk up, hoping to catch a glimpse of what your little fantasies are made of. Your exposed stomach when you roll over with a groan and the magnetic curve of your legs make his eyes darken with lust.

Archons, he had way too much time in his hands every night. Thankfully you were blissfully unaware that puppets didn’t need any sleep.

He cursed to himself between sharp, ragged intakes, his needy violet eyes reflecting the luminescence of the moon, raking over your curves with a carnal glint. Looking back, he had all the opportunities in the world to stop that nagging desire churning within his chest.

But Wanderer was selfish. Once he got a taste of your affection, consider him a starved man.

His thoughts about you would twist and tangle his emotions until it utterly choked him of any sensibility. Love and lust are more than just a slippery slope. The puppet was free-falling in the abyss of your pheromones. The best part is you were completely clueless to these intimate escapades of his.

Could you blame such a depraved, touch-starved puppet?

The nights all seemed to blend together like this. Waiting patiently for you to snore gently before he let his fingers ghost your figure, assuring him that you wouldn’t wake up anytime soon. One hand would devote itself to exploring every bit of skin you had to offer while the other palmed the growing bulge in his shorts.

Like a moth to a flame, he became utterly entranced with the glow of your skin beneath the moon. You are like a goddess laying beautifully upon your altar of silken bedsheets, awaiting the devout worship of his soft prayers and saccharine lips.

His fingers grazed your shoulder, trailing down your arm and leaving tiny goosebumps in its wake. He let his hand mesh carefully into the dip of your waist, imperceptibly squeezing it just enough to fan the flames of his imagination. He was in another dimension entirely, wishing for the day you’d beg for his touch.

Wanderer takes his lower lip between his teeth harshly, dipping his hand beneath his shorts to tug the tip of his thick cock with growing fervor. Precum had already wet the slit of his tip, lubricating each teasing thrust of his hand over his dick. Meanwhile, he continued his journey down the round, plump curve of your hips.

Hips that were meant for childbearing.

He takes a fistful of your nightgown momentarily as his cock aches in his hand, yearning for release so soon. For fuck’s sake, why is the image of you bred full with his seed so goddamn hot?

His movements came to an abrupt halt at the lacy end of your little nightgown. He had to know what you were wearing beneath that silky dress. The idea of making a mess all over your cute panties, covering them generously in his cum, only edged him further. Or, even better, he’d love to fuck his creamy load all over your drenched folds before sliding back in for another round.

Wanderer had to make a concerted effort to reel in his filthy daydreams, struggling to keep his hands from trembling on you. He managed to slip the nightgown higher and higher up your smooth thighs, a lump quickly forming in the puppet’s throat.

He’s not sure if he could handle seeing you so vulnerable without ripping your clothes off and fucking you to his heart’s content right then and there. No, no, no... After all this endless waiting and pining for many torturous months, he couldn’t ruin this with a fleeting moment of insatiable want. He pauses, collecting himself for a brief moment.

The puppet’s pupils dilated into pools of audacious desire upon seeing the dainty black undergarments hugging your plush hip. It was lacy with a beautiful floral design, enrapturing his gaze all the way down to your cunt. Wanderer couldn’t help himself, reaching out subconsciously to brush his thumb against your clit through your panties.

“I wanna fuck you so bad… so bad,” he whispers, his voice just an octave higher with desperation as he continues to fist his throbbing cock. The friction of his hand isn’t enough. It couldn’t come close to the immaculate sensation of your slick pussy enveloping his cock, dragging the tip slowly from your clit to your fluttering, empty hole. But that would be insane, he couldn’t.

You didn’t seem to move a muscle in response to his touch. Meanwhile, Wanderer is struggling like a fool to restrain himself, it is almost comical. He could feel his impending orgasm, forcing his hand to slow down with longer, more intermittent strokes to stop from practically bursting at the seams.

Eventually, he found the courage to nudge the cloth of your black panties aside, revealing your pretty little pussy lips glistening with need. The puppet’s violet irises swirl with power, nearly drunk on the mere thought of pleasuring you in secret like this. Why else would you wear such a sexy little garment for him?

A dull, burning sensation coated his lungs as his thumb nestled into your bare clit, resolving himself to carefully lean down and relieve his parched throat with a kitten lick of your folds. It was a miracle that you hadn’t stirred in your sleep too much, yet the part of him reckless with lust wanted you to wake up while he was tongue-deep in your cunt. He dived between your labia again with his mouth, exhaling a soft, guttural moan into your hole after another good lick.

“Mm, so fucking good… I know you fucking like this, baby,” Wanderer mumbles, wrapping his arms around your hips to secure you in place as he freely drags his tongue across your folds and clit skillfully, placing an occasional kiss here and there. Your thighs subconsciously tense with pleasure.

Had he known you would taste so divine, he would’ve devoured your pussy a long time ago. Shifting slightly so that he could lay completely on his stomach, Wanderer eagerly laps at your cunt and fucks his leaking cock into the mattress. Shit, it is too easy for him to lose sight of himself and tug at your hips possessively, not hesitating to fuck you messily with his tongue.

It’s when he got a little too hasty slurping on your pussy with a particularly lascivious moan that you grumble in your sleep. Wanderer freezes, peering over your pelvis like a predator defending his prize with a piercing violet glare.

There is no way you could possibly wake up. Not now. Not when he’s so close. He deduces that the twitch in your sleep must be from that little aphrodisiac he slipped in your evening tea with him. The puppet had made a nice concoction of tasteless drugs to keep you both asleep and all sensitive just for him.

Wanderer is confident that his potion had its intended effect, but just in case—with a flick of his wrist, he ties your hands together on the headboard with a cool, pressurized ring of Anemo energy. He towers over you, a giddy smirk spreading across his lips seeing you so helpless to his desires.

He had read that cute pocket diary of yours gushing over him like he’s your high school sweetheart, don’t worry. You both know these feelings are mutual. But let’s be honest, he’d much rather you gush on his cock over and over until your pussy can’t take it anymore. And you’ve been dreaming about it too, he’s seen it with his own eyes.

Positioning himself between your legs, the puppet slaps his thick cock on your stomach, measuring it up to your belly button where his pink tip mushrooms. There’s no question that his dick would bottom out inside your walls, maybe if he’s lucky he could see his thrusts bulge in your lower stomach. He’d love to pound you deep enough to truly bury his cum inside you, plugging it with his pulsing cock until he’s sure you’re nice and bred.

No, no, he reminds himself again. He has to savor his time with you—make love to you like you rightfully deserve. There will be plenty of opportunities to fuck you senseless later, despite how badly he wants it now.

The tip of his cock trails down to your folds, tucking his length under your panties. Using one hand to guide his cock against your soaking core, the other rests on your inner thigh as he grinds against you slowly. Wanderer grits his teeth at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath and brushing his thumb lovingly against your sensitive inner thigh. It’s everything he’s ever imagined and more.

He’s forced to bite his knuckles, nearly choking on his own pathetic whines of pleasure. His thrusts grow faster, using your lingerie to keep his cock pressed firmly between your folds.

His words are a ravenous, hoarse whisper, begging you in your sleep. “Shit, shit, shit, you’re gonna make me cum…! Can I put it in? C-Can I please put it in?”

Wanderer knows what your answer will be, grinding sloppily on your drenched cunt while he grabs your breast. He wishes he could hear you say it. But he can feel the way your sweet little hole clenches around nothing every time his tip rubs your clit just right, and that’s enough for him.

It takes no effort to snap the thin straps of your lacy panties in haste, quickly tossing the garment aside indiscriminately. It’s too much, fuck, you look too perfect. Before he knows it, Wanderer pushes his tip inside your sopping entrance, gazing with wonder at how you suck him in like a good slut. Such a good fucking slut, hugging the first inch of his hard cock like you never wanted to let go.

Your spongy walls subconsciously react to his every motion, tightening around the puppet’s cock with unprecedented strength. He hisses, materializing a blue chained choker around your neck with his Anemo abilities and yanking you forward. His girth splits you apart, sliding inside your throbbing cunt inch by every tantalizing inch, until he can meet you halfway and kiss your whimpering, tender lips.

“Goddamn you,” Wanderer growls into the kiss, harshly biting onto your lip. He doesn’t draw blood, but tends to your bruised skin thereafter with a gentler, half-apologetic kiss. “You feel so fucking good, take me so fucking good… mm…”

His hips draw back, your walls noticeably empty in his absence. Snapping forward, his huge cock plunges into your depths with a delightfully lewd smack, causing him to chuckle under his breath. The puppet carefully lays you back on the pillow, planting his arms on either side of your head so that his vision is filled with only your beautiful face.

Once Wanderer begins to establish a rhythm, there’s no stopping him. Every drag of his veiny cock against your sensitive walls is utterly addicting, he had to come back for more and more. He moans and whines your name into your delicate little neck, taking the flesh into his mouth to suck and mark you as his own.

He is panting over you like an animal in heat. “I can feel you squeezing me, angel. I know you love it. ‘M gonna use that pretty little pussy of yours.”

Your body twitches beneath him as his lips leave no crevice untouched by his kisses or hickeys, a smattering of small red and purple blotches dotting your skin from your neck to your breasts. All the while, the puppet had to throttle his pace again, almost giving in to the ecstasy. You were definitely getting close too, he could feel it in the way you clenched around him greedily.

Swirling his tongue around your cute nipple, Wanderer suckles it briefly with a pop of his mouth, admiring his work on the canvas of your gorgeous body. He leaned back, hooking his hands under your calves to press your knees to your chest. If only he had a Kamera to capture the mesmerizing image of your legs spread so good for him with a perfect shot of your cunt wrapped around his tip.

He could tell this position had your walls enveloping his length even tighter than before, angling his cock deep towards that special spot inside you that would have your toes curling. “God, (Y/N), you look so fucking sexy like this.”

It is killing him—the sensation of your hole desperately clinging to the inch of his cock sheathed within you. The puppet keeps your legs pushed back and snakes a hand down to your clit once more, which had obviously been aching for attention. He’s lost in the contours of your folds all splayed out for him, so much so that he lets a globule of his spit drip over your clit to mix with your juices.

You are squirming slightly in your sleep from all the stimulation, but he doesn’t care. The euphoric feeling of teetering on the edge of an incredible orgasm has Wanderer stripped of any sense of reason. He nudges his cock halfway inside you at a delectably slow pace, reveling in your body’s subtle reactions to his teasing.

“Yeah, baby? You wanna fucking cum?” Wanderer whispers hotly over you, circling your clit faster. There’s already a delicious ring of your essence gathering at the base of his cock.

“Cum…” you mumble in a daze, your eyelashes fluttering open slowly. Your expression is contorted into a helpless plea, licking and biting your bottom lip as you sleepily notice his cock nestled between your thighs.

Wanderer’s eyes snap to yours in disbelief. You’re lucid, but asking for more. He begins to chuckle lowly, and reaches to caress your cheek. “You want it, hm? Speak up.”

He continues to fuck you at an excruciatingly slow pace, waiting patiently for you to beg for his seed. He wanted you in tears, squirting all over him like a good girl. Your moans encourage him to go deeper.

“Please, Wanderer,” you struggle to curl your fingers in his indigo locks under the effects of the drugs. “K-keep going, feels too good. Fill me up, please…”

“Like this?” The puppet smirks, forcefully thrusting his huge cock to the brim inside of you. He relishes in your lovely cries of pleasure and pain, swallowing them in a passionate kiss as he fucks you with reckless abandon.

You could barely hiccup a response, sloppily kissing back as Wanderer abuses your tight hole. He has you pinned against the creaky mattress, holding your face with his thumb on your chin to keep your mouth open. Every noise of ecstasy is his to claim and taste on your tongue.

“Mine, baby, all mine. Say it for me,” Wanderer moans, adoring the cock-drunk glimmer in your clouded eyes.

Squeezing your eyes shut suddenly, your eyebrows furrowed together as you suddenly felt your orgasm build at a rapid speed. You whined against the Anemo cuffs restraining your wrists above your head. “Yours! Oh my god, I’m yours. I’m gonna fucking cum, please, please give it me…!”

“Mhmm, yeah c’mon baby, lemme see you cum for me, so good for me, yeah?” he praises, kissing you roughly as he snaps his hips into you. It’s impossible to deny his insatiable need for you any longer, painting your walls white with spurts of his hot seed in a series of profanity-laden grunts.

Your eyes nearly roll back as your orgasm washes over you, legs trembling around him. The continuous twitch of his cock has you arching your back, taking every last drop of his cum until your cunt can’t hold any more. It leaks out, creaming your folds and his cock nicely.

Once you both catch your breath and lock eyes, you feel your cunt ache to be filled once more. Noticing how you trap him with your legs around his hips, Wanderer realizes the aphrodisiac must have been stronger than he anticipated.

You smile sweetly. “M-maybe one more?”

thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated. my masterlist.

#happy kinktober and happy halloween!!🫶 #[opulent dreams].✿ #[dreams of delusion].✿ #genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin scaramouche #genshin wanderer #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #scaramouche smut #wanderer smut

[faetreides]

summary: paul atreides x plus sized afab servant!reader

cw: power imbalance, somnophilia (dubcon in my mind as the reader wouldn’t push him away if they woke up but feel free to skip this if you could feel icked out by it), petplay (cheated again and didn’t make it explicit but it’s very petplay coded in a way), size difference (paul’s the skinny bf that would fall over if a gust of wind was strong enough), paul eats reader out, crack treated seriously vibes bc he’s so awkward 💀, ambiguous somno occasion (like how the reader fell asleep), implications of improper use of the voice but it’s weak for this paul era so reader could probably push against it, possible dune lore inaccuracies idk don’t think just vibe

wc: 1k +

block & move on if uncomfortable !!!

don’t repost, translate, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

You’re having the same dream again. Paul Atreides, the duke’s son who you are tasked with looking after is the star.

He looms over you as you lie flat on your back, though in your dream you’re never in your servant’s quarters. No, the surrounding walls bear a more striking resemblance to Paul’s bedroom. You’re always groggy in the dream, which is a strange feeling to have when you usually are profoundly awake in your other dreams.

You’ve only been having this one since you arrived on Caladan from a smaller planet with no name that they took ownership of. Paul Atreides had seemed to seek you out like a moth to a flame, making a beeline for you and demanding in front of your mother that his father hire you. Even weirder was the fact that the ships belonging to the Atreides left immediately after you agreed to go with them, as if the trip had only one purpose.

“Shh, mouse, it’s just me. Don’t wake up.” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against yours and pecking your lips.

You lie there in a daze, eyes wide and mouth agape as Paul reaches for the fastenings of your top. It’s an orange silk number he gifted you, all your clothes are. Your breaths come out in shallow pants, the disbelief that Paul Atreides would be disrobing you with the intent to bed you is overwhelming. He gives your plush curves loving squeezes as he reveals more and more skin.

Eventually you’re stark naked under him. You sluggishly try to cover yourself with your hands but Paul swiftly knocks them aside, pinning them to your sides so he can drink in the mouth watering image. You have no idea how many dreams he has had of you, ones concerning moments like these and ones about the life you’ll experience together in between. A gaggle of tiny feet playing tag around his throne, domestic mornings of blissful silence waltzing in the dining room.

“I…. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you, i swear it.” Your heart skips a beat, despite knowing very well that this is all some passing fancy. Dreams never have to see the light of day, so you can luxuriate in your delusions.

Paul leans down to shakily mouth at your collarbone, scraping his teeth against the skin and playing with your love handles. You whimper as he litters your rough skin with love bites, you open your mouth to apologize that it’s not as smooth as a noble consort’s would be, but something in the way he shoves his tongue in your mouth to silence you tells you he somehow already knows.

You poke and pull at his dark shirt, the fine black material feeling like heaven but you’d rather it cover your garments next to the bed.

Paul chuckles, nipping at your lips and pulling back to shirk his clothing off. He throws it across the room and goes back to kissing his way down your thick body. Once he reaches your stomach, he takes extra special care to dote on the rolls of skin, softly kissing and pressing his forehead against them.

“You would be a beautiful bride, you know…”

“Um… thank you, sir.” You squirm, all the attention on someone like you from someone like your employer’s son becoming too real. The Paul Atreides would sooner be lost to the sands of Arrakis than utter those words to you in the waking world, but perhaps your long harbored infatuation has leaked into your subconscious.

He smiles, as if charmed by your shyness. “You’re welcome, mouse.”

His favorite nickname for you, given to you due to your adorable scurrying around to avoid others and shy high pitched squeaks that you use instead of words. (Also because he saw you crouch in a corner and nibble on a piece of bread that you had managed to snag from the table.)

He sits back on his heels to grab your thighs, the skin bulging in between his fingers. He draws you into a slow and sensual kiss as he pushes them apart and sinks into the empty space. You squeak in shock when you feel something stiff press against your wet pussy, but Paul only shushes you in your head and you relax again.

“Mmm~” He hums, flicking his tongue against the seam of your lips and lifting himself to hover over you once more.

He winks before tightening his grip on your thighs and stretching them wide enough for him to slink down and have access to the small hole at their apex.

You jolt when he presses a soft kiss to the top of your mound. You squeak and try to close your thighs around his head but he doesn’t let you, keeping your thighs pinned to the bed and licking a flat stripe up your pussy.

“So sweet, mouse….” Paul grins and repeats the motion a few times. “I could just spread you out over the table whenever I need to eat.”

You moan at the attention, desperately wishing that you could grind against Paul’s mouth but it feels like something more than his grip is holding you back, something about the touch seeming too vivid. You shake the thought away and sink your fingers into his hair, brushing any strays away from his face as he moves to suck on your clit.

He hollows out his cheeks a bit to get better suction on your fat clit. Paul nuzzles his face as deep into you as he can possibly get, the chubby lips of your pussy sandwiching his nose. You wrench your eyes shut as your pleasure builds and builds, but a single thin finger eases into your hole right as you’re about to tumble over the edge. The intrusion isn’t painful so much as it is entirely foreign to you, the second finger goes in much easier.

The combination of eating you out and finger fucking you makes the knot in you stomach blessedly come undone. Paul swallows it all down like there’s no better substance in the grand scheme of the universe.

You hope to have this dream again tomorrow, even at the cost of being able to look Paul Atreides in the eyes.

#kinktober #paul atreides #paul atreides x reader #paul atredies x reader #paul atredies smut #dune #dune x reader #dune x you #paul atreides x you #paul x reader #paul x you #paul atriedes #⚰️.deaddove #tw somno #tw power imbalance #yandere themes #male yandere smut #male yandere x reader #yandere smut #dune smut #yandere x you #soft yandere #yandere x reader #male yandere #yandere male #dark fic

[winterarmyy]

Thin Walls, Thin Lines

What will happen if a fuckboy falls in love with a hopeless romantic?

Summary: Modern society surely had corrupted the mind of the hundred-something year old man, Bucky Barnes, when he seemed to have forgotten the art of courting a lady. Lost in lust and pleasure, he had been indulging with endless array of different girls on his bed almost every night. And the opposite side of that thin walls of his room, lives a hopeless romantic who he was madly in love with.

Navigation: Original Version || Deleted Scene* (alt. ending)

Pairing: fuckboy!bucky x female!reader

Words: 4.9k++

Warnings: avenger au, explicit language/contents, angst, lil bit of drama, fluff, please bare with the fuckery of bucky barnes, reader is sensitive yet quite fiesty too. i can't backup steve on this one, he is on his own.

A/N: As you can see from the navigation bar, we have two different endings for this fic, because I am greedy and indecisive. The original version ended with fluff and the deleted scene (alternate ending) ended with absolute filth of a smut. So... enjoy! 💕

P/S: And this is also my submission for @jessybarnes 's writing challenge. I have chosen "Kiss me again" from the prompt list and I hope you like the way I used it in this fic!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N has always been a hopeless romantic. She dreams of a love like the ones she read in books. She craved someone who loves her so deeply that she could never find peace in anyone else but him. She wanted all the love songs and poetry to be reminders of him; his beauty, his charms.

Fresh flowers, stargazing, coffee dates, kisses that tastes of cotton candy, warm cuddles, and every little things in between; she longed for it all. She dreams of a love that is so consuming until all that's left in that small bubble of infatuation is their entangled soul mending each other to the bone.

That's what makes her a hopeless romantic.

And very much the opposite of her was Bucky. He is an infuriating flirt. There's not a day goes by that he doesn't call her with sickeningly sweet nicknames; doll, gorgeous, princess, darling, you name it. He will definitely drop some suggestive lines at any given chance and most of the time when she least expected.

He can charm anyone just by his presence, and if you're lucky enough to get one of his infamous smile; then you best believe that you won't be going home alone that night, or able to walk proper the next morning. He is the typical playboy you know and hate; very often she'll see different girl in his arms or on his bed. And that man seemed to not know when to stop. Sometimes, she do wonder if he ever got tired of sex. Because she knows for certain that he can go on and on for hours, daily.

"Fuck,, that's it. Spread your legs for me. Yeah, 'atta girl."

Speaking of the devil.

This has been recurring for months now. It seems like the man never sleep because his voice would always wake her up. She couldn't decide what was worse; between being forced to hear the sounds of the skin slapping, the bed creaking, him groaning and her squealing or being a super light sleeper that even a whisper in her room would jolt her awake.

Y/N let out an annoyed grunt when she swoop her head under the pillow, hoping to silenced the noises even just a little bit. Surprise; it didn't help at all. Her body cringed and her face contorted into a squint when she hear the other woman announcing her release as the headboard hits the wall a little harder, a little faster.

Bucky Barnes sure is a fuckboy but unfortunately for her, he is also the man she fell in love with.

She refused to show it, but lord knows how much her heart simply swell to the sight of his smile. Despite the flirtatious tendencies of his, there was something about him that attracted her like a magnet; or like a moth to a flame.

Maybe it was his old soul, or maybe because she saw glimpses of timeless charm in him; the way he moves, the way he gazes, and the way treated her. Nevertheless, it was such a devastating thing for someone like her to fall for someone like him.

The last thing she wanted in a man, is to look at her like she was just a good fuck and nothing more. She just couldn't imagine herself to be tied with someone like that. And Bucky was exactly that someone.

Y/N haven't been able to get more than 2 hours of sleep for months now. The lack of it had caused her to drastically lose physical strength and lately fatigue has been a constant presence as well.

So she decided to go the medbay to consult Dr. Cho about it. After running some tests, she sat her down for some Camomile tea as she went through the results, "It seemed like the severe lack of sleep had took a really heavy toll on you."

Y/N sighed as she place the tea cup on the back on the table, "Yes, I am well aware of that. That is precisely why I am here."

"Nightmares?" Dr. Cho speculated.

If the definition of nightmare is 'the moans of the man, that she had a crush on, fucking someone else next door' then, yes. She was having long and nearly endless nightmares for months now.

"Something like that." She lied.

"Then, I have some medication that I can prescribe to you. You should take it daily after dinner and..." Before Dr. Cho managed to finish her instructions, Y/N quickly asked, "Is it possible to fix me without meds?"

Dr. Cho frowned curiously, "Why wouldn't take meds? That's the quickest way to help for your situation, as far as I know." she asked.

This was not her first rodeo; she had troubles sleeping back when she was merely teenager. And the last time tried using meds, she ended up almost overdosed herself from it, "It's just... I prefer not to." she evaded.

Dr. Cho nodded understandingly before clarifying the current situation, "Well then, I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do for you. Though some research suggested that meditation routine before sleep can help. Or putting up some natural ambience like the sound of rain or waves--"

Y/N wasn't really listening after the first sentence. Because all she could thought of was how much longer she can bare with this and what will it take for her to finally snap.

Y/N was dying. At least it felt like it.

With her deprivation of sleep and the intense combat training she had to go through today, her patience was reaching it's limit. After visiting the medbay 2 weeks ago, she had tried to approach Bucky about it but he always took it lightly.

There was series of insincere apology followed by a cheeky promise to 'keep the tone down' for her. But nothing changed. She asked him again and again; days gone by he didn't live up to the end of his bargain.

For those past week, Y/N had resorted to sleep in the living room for most of the nights. How she dreaded to leave her comfy bed but she could no longer tolerate the sounds coming from the other side on the wall. Though she still jolted awake from time to time due to how uncomfortable it was sleeping on a couch, but at least she got more than 2 hours of sleep if she was to compare to the nights she slept in her own room.

It's not she didn't notice it at all; she knew exactly how and why it happened. The habit of microsleeping that she developed during the course of this training. The slowed reaction time, the lack of energy, she can feel it. But, there was nothing she can do about it.

The only cure for this was to get some rest. A proper rest. And that can't happened, not without Bucky's cooperation.

When Y/N was marching towards the sargent who was sitting way across the gym; she could see how his eyes undress every piece of her clothing, how his tongue rolled out and his teeth sunk into his lips.

She wasn't even wearing anything remotely provocative but here he was lusting over the way her hips sway especially when he was the one she's walking towards.

The moment she stood in front of him, his mouth lifted into a smirk, "Yes, princess. How may I be of your service?" His voice was sultry and the way he towers over made her slightly nervous for no reason.

Her heart fluttered, yet her lips refused to form a smile, "Don't call me princess."

"I apologize, my queen." Bucky gave her a cheeky smile.

Y/N didn't want to drag this any longer than she should, so she quicky jump into it and said, "So you know how I’m like-"

"-absolutely embarrassingly in love with me? Yes, I'm familiar go on." Bucky cuts in. If panic ever rose in her chest, then she was doing an incredible job of hiding it, "Can you just shut up for a second and take me seriously?"

His eyes glint with flirtaous mischief when he replied, "Doll, you know the fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me."

Y/N simply sighed before she began to rant, "I really don't have the mood for this banter with you, Barnes. I just want you tone down your nightly routine. It is because of you I've been having trouble sleeping and--"

He quickly stopped her before she nags even more than she already did, "Okay, okay I get it. We've been through this, doll." Bucky's face lit up when he suggested, "How about I help you sleep, hmm? I may know a thing or two about tiring someone out." There was surely something unholy in those steel blue eyes of his.

And Y/N picked it up rather quick, but considering the amount of times he had insinuate something more than just a friendly banter, then of course she knew exactly what he was suggesting, so she simply replied, "No offense, Barnes. But, I don't do one night stand or no strings attached thing. And with a manwhore like you? No, thank you." sassy was her answer.

Bucky's head tilted back as he laughed, then when he spoke his voice was like a devil luring an angel to sin, "Oh babydoll, if I were to be a whore, it'll only be for you." He stepped closer so that only she can hear his confession.

His masculine scent hits her nose, mixture of the citrus cologne and his natural odour was just perfect. Annoyingly alluring; but perfect. And it took all her will to hold it together and blatantly rejects him, "Still not interested."

Bucky groaned in protest, "Come on, princess. You can't keep dreaming for some prince charming to court you, do you? You know that's probably never going to happen right?"

Surely he meant only to tease her; that it was less likely that an actual prince to romance her. Not that she did not deserve the world; she does. And Bucky was more than will to burn it to the ground if that's what she wanted.

But, Y/N didn't see it that way. She thought that Bucky meant that she is not worthy enough for a decent man to court her with respect and chilvary; that she was just a toy fit for fucking and nothing more. And the fact that her "insomia" had affected her usually high patience and reduced it to almost paper thin, it was only fair for her to finally snap.

She can tolerate his endless flirtation but she can't simple turn a blind eye for his insult.

Bucky was caught by surprise why Y/N harshly grabbed him by the collar, pushing him back and nearly stumbled; her eyes was pure fire when she growled, "Don't you dare mock the way I value relationship, Barnes." Her nose flared with anger and the commotion has attracted some prying eyes towards the two.

"Just because you enjoy fucking anything that breathes, that doesn't mean that everyone else does." She seethed, "The only cock that will be wrecking my pussy would belong to someone I love and if you have a problem with that, you can fuck right off." She forcefully pushed him until his ass landed on the bench behind him.

Her feet stomped all throughout her exit out of the gym, leaving Bucky in a blinking confusion.

He knew it was wrong.

It felt good. It felt right.

But, it was so fucking wrong.

To keep moaning Y/N's name when he railed those strangers to heaven; when he came so hard into the thin layer of condom. And it was always a soft and slow type of whimper, right in those girls' ears. So intimate, so careful not to let his secret out; knowing how thin the walls between him and the love of his life.

But, he certainly didn't care about the girl he was fucking. If it wasn't for his heavy body pinning her from behind, she would've elbowed him right in the guts for moaning another woman's name. Unfortunately for him, she quickly ditched and see herself out after the first round.

Now, he laid there; naked and bare. Thinking of how he simply couldn't help it. How could he not think of Y/N all the times? Not when he was deeply, helplessly in love with her. But, he knew she wouldn't bat an eye at him now that he had the reputation of a "fuckboy", as the young ones describes it. She especially made it clear today at the gym. She's never going to give him a chance now.

Not when she's a hopeless romantic. And the fact that he too was once the same was just aggravating to him. He was such a gentleman decades ago; before Hydra, before the war, when he was but a young man living Brooklyn.

His Ma had really shaped him into the perfect gentleman; every parents in the neighbourhood wanted him as their son-in-law. They claimed he would make the perfect husband for their daughters. But, things are different now. And he knew that the man he was before was long forgotten.

It was just curiosity at first; about how sex works in the 21st century. However, Bucky quickly fall into the promises of lust and pleasure; changing girls like changing clothes. He let himself dosed in ecstasy, as if it was a drug to silenced the dark and haunting memories of his past, like it was a quick escape from reality, from the Winter Soldier.

Then, Y/N happened.

Bucky never saw it coming; but, he fell. Hard.

They were colleague for years and had been a good friend he can rely on besides Steve. She was so sweet and pretty. Probably the most gorgeous woman he ever laid his eyes on, in the hundred something year old life of his. Most importantly, she was kind and patient and strong and fierce yet so unforgivingly selfless. 

But that didn't matter now, does it? Especially when she despise him. And it was all because of the unholy title he held.

At first Bucky didn't notice it, but now that he stepped closer into the living room, he heard it again. The rustling fabric, the quiet whimper coming from the sofa. His steps were as careful as a wolf on a hunt, stalking a hiding prey in between the trees.

If Bucky were to guess what he would find on a late night trip to the kitchen, he would've probably said 'ice cream' and not 'Y/N sleeping in the living room'. His eyes briefly raked her sleeping figure, curling uncomfortably into the pastel purple blanket. Then at the scattered pillows on the floor around her.

Why was she sleeping in the living room?

Another whine passed her lips and his attention was locked on her frowning face; it seemed like she was having a bad dream. Bucky carefully crouch next to her, and ravel in her beauty. Such delicate features, long lashes, pretty freckles across her nose, and those soft looking lips; he would kill just to taste her them, to sink his teeth in between them.

It worried him though; to see her sleeping here. She was clearly uncomfortable, it was a mystery that she managed to even fall asleep in the first place. Bucky suspected she simply passed out due to today's training. It was particularly hard, even for him. Let alone a normal human being like Y/N.

Not to mention the fight that they had.

Then, it clicked. The complains about how she had trouble sleeping. It wasn't just to make fun of him or tease him in any way. It was a plead. She needed to be heard and he completely blew her off with jest and jokes.

"Was it because of... me?" Bucky thought to himself. It all made sense now, "Shit." A curse rang in his mind when he bit the insides of his cheek. He was mad at himself. How could he be so insensitive? And he claimed to love her? Please. What an absolute piece of shit he was.

When Y/N began to toss and turn, her blanket fell from her body. Even in her sleep, the cold managed to catch her. She instinctively curled towards herself, seeking warmth but was no avail.

She look so small and Bucky felt a surge of need to cuddle her close, keeping her safe, keeping her warm in his arms. But if he does that, he'd probably get kicked in the nuts. So instead, he picked up the fallen blanket lay it back across her whole body; carefully not to disturb her sleep.

Bucky smiled softly when she snuggled into the fabric and before he walked away, he swore to stop this corrupting habit of his and apologize for being such a douchebag to her. And if he's lucky, maybe he could even properly court her.

But for now, he just needed to go through tommorrow's mission. So does everyone one else in the team.

"Do you realized what you have done?" Not matter how hard he tried to hold it back, everyone in the Quinjet can see how Steve was seething.

Y/N's lost of sleep had took a toll on her more than she realized now that it had affected her performance in mission. She tried to ignore the way she was basically seeing Steve's feet multiply by the second, and continued to look down in shame, "I'm sorry, Captain."

"Don't apologize to me. Nat's the one who got shot because of you!" He yelled as he pointed at the red haired woman at the side of the plane.

No matter how much she wanted to blame Bucky on this; how he literally robbed her from fulfilling her human needs to rest at night, but she just couldn't. It was her fault that Natasha got hurt. If she was more alert, she would've seen the enemy standing right in front of her. If she was awake enough, then Natasha wouldn't get hurt.

Tears threatened to form when she looked over at her dear friend, bleeding at the side, "I'm so sorry, Nat. I really am. I didn't know what came to me and I--"

"Oh please, I'd take a bullet for you any day of the week, honey." Natasha swiftly cuts into her apology, in attempt to diffuse the heated situation.

But, Steve totally disagree with her, "Don't make this 'okay', Nat. You almost died because for her carelessness. Being inadequate shouldn't be okay for any agent to do. It is extremely reckless and downright stupid."

There was a sound of a distant gasp from the pilot pit, "Language!" Tony was clearly trying to lighten up the mood but it failed rather miserably when no one reacted.

Steve had every right to be mad, especially when his girlfriend was injured because of this, but oh does it hurt to hear his stabbing words. It hurts more when it comes from the Captain America himself.

God, she was extremely tired.

Physically, mentally and that's what happens when a person is lack of sleep. Then when she thought about all her hardwork and struggles to train amongst the superhero themselves, she couldn't help but to crack; and the tears that was building up in her eyes finally fell.

When Steve saw it, he lost it completely, "Oh, you're gonna cry now? WOW. Real mature, y/n. You can't disappoint me more can you?" At that point, he was being a little too mean for anyone's liking.

Especially Bucky.

So Bucky slowly pulled Y/N back, and shielded her body behind his as he went on face to face with his bestfriend, "That's enough, Steve." He warned but Steve doesn't seem to get the idea, "No, Buck. Do you see--"

Bucky took one step closer, his menacing glare went right through Steve's soul, "I said... that's enough." He repeated his words. This time the message went through.

Steve gulped and cleared his throat as he waved a dismissing hand, "I expect a full report and a letter of apology from you when we get back, y/n." He ended his sentence with his back turned and then walked away towards his girl.

When Bucky turned around to face Y/N, she was but a crying mess. Tears kept streaming down and her lips quivered in so much sadness. Now, that she was in the light, Bucky could see the darker shades on the bag of her eyes.

This was his fault. If he just stopped goofing around and listen to what she had to say yesterday, she wouldn't need to go through this, "Oh sweetheart..." though he meant to call her in his mind, it might just slipped through his lips.

Y/N glared up at him, "This was none of your concern, Barnes." She spat.

He shrugged, "Well, lucky for you, I don't care whose it is. What I know is I care about you. Now, let's get that wound patch up." Bucky simply said, and that was when she realized that her ribs were slashed open, bleeding and torn. Maybe it was not too deep, that was why she didn't notice it.

But it is an injury nonetheless, and it was a surprise to her that Bucky noticed it. "I don't want your help." She frowned yet continued to sniffle.

"Yeah, but you need it." He replied as he carefully tucked the loose strand of her hair behind her ears.

Unable to think of any comebacks, she let her fatigue win over. Her lips shut tightly and her chest shuddered for breaths. And when Bucky took her hand in his and lead the way, her body instantly responded by gripping him tight.

Bucky's heart soared at the touch of her small hand in his, while fire was burning in hers.

She hates him. She hates how caring he can be. She hates how soft he was when handling her. And she hates how easy it was for him to make her fall for him even more.

Y/N's body quickly went on auto pilot; she let him undress the blood soaking top and patch her wounds. And Bucky let her cry her heart out on his shoulder all the way back home to New York.

That night when everyone had settled back to their own rooms, Y/N was prepping to sleep outside again. It was like a schedule for Bucky to always fuck whatever his frustrations out when they finished a mission.

And she doesn't want to hear any of it. Not tonight.

Thankfully, her wounds were mostly healed thanks to Dr. Cho and her ingenious of a machine, Cradle. That thing fixed the teared tissue right up with its regenerative  functions.

Now, Y/N just needs to endure the bruises but those are bearable. What she couldn't bear is the lack of energy and goodnight's sleep. She wished to just pass out for days and not wake up even if a prince came to kiss her to wake.

And she knew that sleeping in her room won't give her that.

Y/N piled her pillows and blanket on top of another before scanning the room one last time to make sure she didn't leave anything behind. Because she was not planning to step foot in her room until dawn comes, hoping the sounds from the other side of the room died down by then.

When she was walking pass Bucky's, she noticed how awfully quiet his room was, but she didn't think about it too much. She waited for the elevator to open its door only to reveal the man himself, "Barnes."

He eyed how Y/N's figure almost hidden behind the piles of pillow in her hold. He stepped out as he asked, "Where do you think you're going?" Bucky knew exactly where but he was not having any of that.

It was weird to her that she didn't see any sign or Bucky's hook-up in his arms, but she bet that there will be one after she's gone downstairs, "Away from you, that's for sure." She said, taking a step into the elevator but instantly stopped the moment Bucky blocked her path.

Bucky lips flatten against each other; he didn't say anything, he only frowned down at her then simply grabbed her wrist and dragged her back to her room.

Utterly confused, "What are you doing? Hey, let go of me." She twisted her wrist in his hold, while trying to balance the pillows from falling. A useless trial it was; because who could even escape that metal grip of his.

Bucky quickly respond, "No. You're not sleeping on that shitty sofa tonight." He stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned to her, "You're injured, y/n. You need on a proper rest on a proper bed." He coaxed.

How did he know that she had been sleeping on the coach? She thought before saying out loud, "I'm fine, Barnes. It's not even that deep of a wound, the Cradle fixed it clean. So, can you just... let go of my hand?" She sighed.

But Bucky refused to even spare her a glance, he silently tug her and stomp his way towards her room. There waa retaliation on her side, but his lack of response had lead Y/N to her defeat. She begrudgingly followed his long strides until she they stood by her bed.

He snatched each of the pillows and blankets off her hands, while Y/N simply blinked speechlessly as she watched Bucky started set up her bed like he had been doing it everyday.

Weirdly, at times like this, she found him extremely lovely. There was no corny and flirty comment about her, or his annoying habit of teasing every little thing she does.

There was just a comfortable silence and a kind gesture; the type that pulled the red strings of her heart just enough to make her want to dream of him.

Fucking hell, she can't believe that he managed to do that again! Making her fall for his antics. He really needs to stop doing that, it's simply rude.

Y/N broke from her love struck trance when she felt his cold metal laced around her hand again, he pulled her closer, "Now hop on, bunny. You need to rest." He lead her under the blanket and she grumbled curses under her breath, something about he need stop calling her weird nicknames like that.

When she was well tucked in and comfortable, Bucky sat at the edge of the bed by her side and spoke, "I'm sorry. For not trying to listen to you at the gym yesterday. I was a jerk."

His apology was so sincere that Y/N caught herself in a shock. Who is this man? What has he done to Bucky Barnes?

His eyes lingered to the wall behind her bed as if he was trying to find the right words to address it, "About the noises..." he trailed, "...it'll stop from now on."

Oh. Nevermind. She liked this Bucky. She wants to keep him forever, "Really? You mean it?" There weren't any effort put to hide her excitement when her voice nearly squeaked.

Bucky chuckled amusingly at her reaction, "Really, doll. But, you gotta promise not to sleep on the couch again."

Sparks of joy filled her chest when he confirmed his decision. Sure, it was such a small favour to do to anyone. But, she appreciate his efforts to make amends. "Hmm, I promise." She hummed happily, blinking slow as the comfort of her bed lured her into a drowsy state.

"Thanks, Bucky." Her mentioned his name.

Thank god for the super sensitive hearing ability, cause Bucky surely love the sound of her voice whispering his name so softly, "For apologizing or for tucking you to sleep?" He jest.

It only made her eyes rolled to the side and a smile spread across her face, "Both." she said. "And for what you did on the jet."

Bucky simply shrugged as if it was a normal thing to do. But, it wasn't. It was rare for him to challenge Steve like he did. And he did it for her, "Really, I owe you one." She said assuringly.

A playful smirk pulled on Bucky's lips when he spoke "Doll, you shouldn't be saying that so carelessly. Who knows I might use it for despicable things." Surely, he love to be the cause to bloom those red shades on her cheeks.

But it didn't happened when she asked quietly, "Will you?"

And the silence that came after was heavy with tenderness while their eyes spoke the truth to one another. As the thin lines in between got blurry, for once, there was just streams of genuine feelings pouring out of them, leaking through and contaminating the air with its magic.

Would he? Take advantage of her?

How could he though? He loved her too much to even think of purposely hurting her. "No." Bucky replied as he leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead, "Sleep well, princess." He mumbled against her skin.

And he pulled back, he grinned a cheeky smile. There it was; the pink blush on her face, wide surprise of her eyes and her slightly parted lips. She looked so adorable. He swore couldn't get enough of it.

"Kiss me again..." she nearly growled, but her blushing on her face didn't indicate anger, "...and I will choke you in your sleep." Though it was an attempt to threaten but typical of Bucky to just love to turn things around, "Hmm, is that an invitation, princess?" He purred and stole another kiss; this time, on her cheek. "Then, I will be looking forward to it." He whispered as quickly as he removed himself from the scene.

When he found his own bed, he couldn't help but to laugh at the muffled scream coming from the opposite side of the thin walls, "James. Fucking. Barnes!!!"

End.

Alternate ending (smut edition): Deleted Scene >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I hope you drop some thoughts behind before going to the deleted scene. Which I know you will. See you on the other side 👀

#jessybarnesreaches500 #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #avenger!bucky #fuckboy!bucky #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #thin walls thin lines au

[victoria-grimesss]

tear you apart - part II

masterlist

-> Pairing: König x fem!reader

-> Words: 3.5k

-> Warning: MDNI! nfsw, fem!reader, dominant!könig, size difference, over the desk, blindfold, unprotected sex, rough sex but there’s aftercare, google translate German.  

~> A/N: first time writing smut please go easy on me I beg of thee. 

It’s been a couple days since the training session with König. You've built up a nice routine around the new base and made some friendly conversations with some other new recruits both bonding over the complexities of your new home away from home. 

Would it be weird to say you miss the presence of the colonel? 

Is it strange that you’ve already become so attached to having him near those few times. Having his eyes gaze into you as though you’re all that exists? 

No right? 

 Right. 

 He haunts your dreams, appears to you when you’re most restless to smooth your hair under his touch and whisper sweet things to you, how he wants to be your eternal love, to live a life filled with passion and fire. Your veins run with lava as his hand in your hair traces down to your neck, so small in my grasp, he tells you, how easy it would be to wrap my hand around and squeeze, he says it so sweetly to you. You hum listlessly, lost in his gaze and willing for his touch. You are mine and mine only you understand? You always wake before he even takes off a glove, you're drenched in sweat and the blankets stick to you. But these dreams are common since you’ve met him. You wonder if he dreams the same; if he’s coming to you in these dreams and expressing his deepest desires. 

Silly girl you think, he wouldn’t. 

 Sometimes you think you see him, the corner of your eyes play tricks on you. He’s too big to move that fast, but you feel the burn of his eyes on the back of your head when you’re in the kitchen making your morning drink at times. It feels the same as it did when he laid eyes on you in the meeting room, electric.

 “L/N!” You turn, it’s your captain.

“Sir.”

“Look honey I’m runnin late and these papers need to go to the big guy you mind handing them over? Thanks a lot.” He basically shoved them into your arms and you have to gather them up quickly as to not let them end up as a heap on the cold floor. This whole interaction lasts the better of 30 second.

Your eyes roll at the pet name and how this work could have been shoved on anyone else but no, gotta be the new girl. 

A new girl who most definitely totally doesn’t have a crush *ehem* ~ creepy infatuation with the boss. ~ 

 You vaguely remember the way to his office; the captain shot some directions at you as he walked away from handing off his task to you. 

To the left then the right then the door second to last one on the right. You repeat these as you readjust your grip on the papers.

 As you approach you grow more and more nervous, it’s just your super-hot boss who you’re giving papers to nothing more nothing less. But your hand stays still at your side, your other full of papers.

Just knock.

Your hand is in front of the door, and you knock loudly making your presence known.

 “Enter.” He sounds just as he did last time. Domineering.

You open the door slowly, the light in the hall behind you flickers and your heart beats in time with the moth's wings that fly directly towards that light. You feel like that moth drawn to the light. 

He sits at his desk, papers in his hand, he’s shed his utility helmet and usual mask for a plain black baklava which is fitting all the same for him. The whole room smells like him, it envelopes you and swallows you whole as you close the door. 

His eyes stay on the papers but his concentration isn’t on them anymore, it’s on you.

You’ve come to him, as he thought you would. His mind has been on nothing but you, your file is always on his desk, he’s memorized every word on it.

His favorite colors are now those of your eyes, hair, lips and skin. You’ve become his very own Medusa and he can’t help but become stone when he sees you. If only you knew the grasp you had on him. If only you would grasp him and hold him tight.

 “You have something for me yes?” The lamp behind him casts him as a shadow and illuminates his figure but his eyes are bright.

You walk closer, the room is quiet besides some soft music on the record player on the far side of the room next to another door. 

“The captain requested I bring you these papers, important intel I suppose.”

“Shame. And here I was thinking you’ve just come to visit me.” There’s that teasing tone again. 

Your cheeks heat up despite your best effort to maintain a cool façade. You’re upset you don’t have a mask to hide your expression.

 You hand him the papers, neatly organized now. He reaches with one hand and takes them from you, his gloved hand brushes yours and you lock eyes, goosebumps race up your arm from the point of contact.

You grin and look down.

“I would think you’d have more interesting visitors than me colonel.”

He grows stiff at your mention of rank, calling him by his title. 

His eyes scan the papers noting the important parts.

“Schatz, you are the most important visitor I’ve had the honor of having.” His gaze is heavy on you.

You are still at his words, is he insinuating what you think he is? 

He’s holding bait right in front of your face. 

“I highly doubt that sir, a guy like you must have many visitors….I’m sure you have many beautiful suitors.”

You bite.

He chuckles, it’s low and deep and he groans at the end. 

“I have my eyes on one Ja. She has become the object of my attraction.”

Your heart skips a beat wondering if he means another woman besides you. You bite your lip wearing at the skin. You open your mouth to start and then close it.

He watches your mouth as you do so and wishes to feel it upon him, as you take him wholly.

“Speak, do not hold your tongue.” 

“I-I um I suppose I’m just curious as to what woman could gain your attraction. To be honest sir I thought you were married.”

His attention is most definitely no longer on the papers, or anything job related. His mind wholly encompassed by you and your words. 

He hums lowly and you imagine that it vibrates his chest.

“Come to this side of my desk Schatz.”

You obey, walking to the other side of his desk and standing next to him, facing the door you entered in.

“My desk, do you see any family portraits?”

“No sir.”

He takes off his gloves and you feel like a Victorian man seeing an ankle.

“Do you see a wedding band?”

“No sir.”

After this he stands, his full height towering above you combined with the soft music, dim lighting, and the way he looks down at you makes your knees weak and your lower stomach burn. He walks over to the door you entered and stands for a moment. You wonder if you’ve asked too much, dug yourself a hole and he’s about to ask you to leave.

“I’m sorry if I stepped over the line I didn’t mean it, I can leave if you want.” He locks the door. Your heart locks up all the same at the sound.

“No, Schatz I’d rather you stay, and I think you'd rather stay too. Am I right?” He turns his head to look at you and the way he’s standing you can see all the muscles in his back defined from the lighting and you yearn to rake your nails over them and leave a well-deserved mark. 

“I would.” Your words are breathy, and you hardly know if you spoke at all but his response confirms you did.

He walks back over to you and your feet are stuck in cement. He stops when he's behind you. You can hear his breathing behind you so you know he’s actually there, he's real and this is real.

“You know I watch you right? Does it frighten you?”

“No colonel.”

“None of that here, not anymore. Just König ok Süßes Mädchen

Your knees actually nearly do give out this time, God he’s too much. Your breathing is quick now and you feel feverish he’s not even touching you yet but standing there and you don’t know what will kill you first your rapid heart rate or the anticipation.

“You want me, Ja?

“God yes.” You nearly whine and he lets out a deep laugh. He readjusts his stance.

“Do you usually get this worked up before you’re even touched?” His voice is lighter now, he’s teasing.

“Only for you.” You say almost immediately.

“Say that again.” His voice is dark again and it makes your stomach twirl.

“Only for you König.” You’ve stepped headfirst into the lion’s den and you know there's no going back from this, you thought it was just a silly crush but this is so much more, for the both of you.

He inhales deeply and lets it out, even with his mask you can feel it lightly on the back of your head. 

His head is spinning with thoughts of what he wants to do to you, you were making him crazy. 

“Ich schwöre bei Gott, Liebling, du wirst mein Tod sein.” [I swear to God darling, you will be my death.] You're not sure what he said but you hear his groan at the end so it must be erotic. 

“Konig, please.”

“Shhh quiet Schätzchen.” 

There's a beat of silence and you think your heart stops then you feel his hand on your back. It travels up until he gets to your hair, he grabs a handful of it but doesn't pull or tug, just holds. You’re growing wetter by the minute and you ache deeply. You rub your thighs together and that’s when he pulls. 

He tugs you back into him and your head is pointed up now so he's looking directly down at you. You whimper and his eyes are nearly pitch black as he stares at you, he drinks you in as if you’re the last bit of water on earth.

“Scheisse you know if we do this there is not going back, I will not let you lay with another and I will never lay with anyone besides you.” His words echo in your head and you weigh your options,

Option A: sleep with König, your superior and maybe face some very serious consequences.

or…

Options B: go back to your room and absolutely resort you what’s in your bedside drawer to relieve yourself…..

Survey says, option A all the way.

“I wouldn't want it any other way sir.” You make sure to say it extra breathily as to draw him into the spiral he's sent you into.

His grip tightens ever so before he releases and you stumble a bit but a hand on your waist catches you and the coals within you are stoked even more to where they rage into an inferno.

“I would like to share more of myself with you eventually but for now... This will have to do.”

He says no more before fabric is enclosed around your eyes and your vision darkens. It must be his regular mask because it smells so strongly of him it makes you dizzy, his scent all encompassing.

“König.”

“My name sounds so sweet when it comes from your lips, I beg to hear more of it.”

His hands, both of them, are on your middle now he holds you steady and moves them upwards and cups your breasts above your uniform you let out a soft breath.

He closes his eyes and inhales deep against your crown.

“I knew you would smell wonderful Mein Schatz. You feel like heaven in my hands you know that?”

His hands move to the buttons of your uniform and he wastes no time in discarding it to the ground along with your undershirt. 

“Turn around.” 

You turn around and he once again grabs tight on your hair pulling your head back and exposing your neck.

He pulls up his baklava knowing he won’t be seen.

He bites.

Hard.

You let out a shameless moan and quickly slap a hand over your mouth, but he grabs your wrist and holds it behind you back your other hand is grabbing onto his hair.

“You’ll express your pleasure. I want everyone to hear so they know I’m occupied.”

He’s sucking dark bruises into your neck and leaving teeth marks in his wake. He lavishes in the way your skin tastes. He knows you sweat at some point today and your perfume is on his tongue.

“König please, I need more.”

“Gladly.” You feel him smile on your skin.

Next thing you know you’re spun around again and you’re pushed down over the desk his hand heavy on your neck.

“Stay.” He commands.

His hand is removed and he works at your pants pulling them down and to your ankles, he slides his hands all around the newly exposed skin and you hear his drop to his knees.

“Mein Gott, you are something to behold, you are beautiful you know that?”

You blush the heat growing hotter between your thighs.

There’s no time to respond before he’s diving into your heat tongue hot and wet upon you as he sucks and licks like his life depends on it.

“You taste divine, I could die here and die a happy man Liebling, scheiße” 

You moan and your cheek touches the cold wood of the desk as he continues his ravaging.

“König please, I need-need more.”

He hears your pleas and it spurs him on, he’s desperately hard in his pants and palms at it a few times before collecting your wetness and entering one then two fingers. 

“Is this enough for you? Or do you need more? So bedürftig.” He teases as he pumps them in the out in a come-hither motion getting quicker and quicker. 

Your breathing picks up. It’s in short pants now as you get close and closer to the edge. He can feel you squeezing his fingers tighter and he latches his mouth back on as his fingers works faster.

“Come on Schatz give me a show.” He smiles and teases and he just can’t get enough even as you try to thrash and tense on his fingers reaching your high you chant his name and he’s heard nothing sweeter.

“You make such beautiful noises Meine Liebe .” He bites at the inside of your thighs as he stands.

You hear a belt buckle and a zipper undone, mouthwatering in anticipation as you’re still coming down from your previous high.

He takes himself out and strokes it slowly a few times placing a hard harshly on your hip as he lines himself up and teases the tip at your entrance.

He’s massive compared to you and he’s burning up looking and predicting the way you’ll feel around him.

“Schatz, one last chance to change your mind.” He grits through his teeth.

“Please König, I need you badly.” 

He takes not a second longer after you answer to sink fully into you and to say you’re surprised is an understatement. He’s huge, incredible deliciously huge and the stretch of him knocks the breath from your lungs and he bends over you, his whole body laying just above you so his mouth is right next to your ear.

“You feel even more incredible than I could ever dream, you wrap around me so sweetly.”

He pulls back and braces both of his hands on your hips with a bruising grip and starts moving, he’s deliberate and calculated with his movements thrusting deep and harsh.

You moan loudly with the blindfold all your other senses are heightened. You grasp and scratch behind you trying to slow his movements you mind hazy with only thought of how good he’s making you feel. 

“P-please, god König.” You can hardly make out your own thoughts, he groans and continues his onslaught of torture on you.

You try to slow him again but this time he takes a hold of your wrists and slams them down onto the desk. You continue to moan with abandonment.

“You’ll take what given to you, understand?” He leans down and kisses your cheek, panting you can feel the sweat on his face combining with yours.

Leaning back, he watches the way he enters you and the noises are unholy, seeing you bent over his desk so willing and drunk off of him nearly makes him cum right then and there.

Suddenly a knock at the door.

He doesn’t stop and you clamp both hands over your mouth now. He growls deep in his chest.

“Busy.” He grits out.

They knock again but he doesn’t stop.

“Are you fucking kidding me? c’mon be a good girl and let them know I’m busy.” His accent is heavy and laced with need.

You can hardly think straight and his words sound underwater. You only become semi-conscious again when he picks you by your shoulder, up holding you up to his chest by your neck as he continues his onslaught.

“Take your hands off your mouth unless you want me to tie those up too, I told you to tell them I’m busy.” He growls right by your ear and he thrust particularly hard and deep you choke on your sobs and a moan rips from your throat. It’s so erotic you hardly recognize yourself, the last knock was cut short, and you hear quick shuffling down the hallway. 

“Braves Mädchen, so good for me. Fuck, need you to cum with me I won’t last much longer.”

“F-fuuck don’t stop.”

The coil within you is growing and winding and you feel you’re heading headfirst into a spiral panting and calling his name with no care for the outside world you reach up and claw at what you can reach of his expansive shoulders certainly leaving marks and he groans and grinds to show his appreciation.

“Cmon, give it to me, give it to me.” He says, each thrust his hand on your hips growing even tighter and his thrusts getting sloppy as he nears his high. He grips your jaw now slipping a finger into your mouth and you taste yourself on them and the coil snaps.

Your ears are ringing, white blinds your vision, and you’re overcome with oxytocin unlike no other.

König fills you deeply grinding to the hilt so none of him is left exposed.

You feel boneless and limp in his arms but completely and utterly satisfied.

The blindfold is removed and he’s tapping your cheek, the finger that was in your mouth leaving spit in its wake but you have no care.

“Y/N, Y/N, come in back to me Schatz.” You open your eyes and hum.

“So good.” You hiccup and you see he has his baklava fully on but his eyes are crescent shape, his eyes look lovely when he’s smiling.

“I take it you enjoyed yourself?” He’s pulling out and you wince but he’s quickly pulling his desk chair out for you to sit and gain you sanity back.

“That’s putting it lightly...” you can’t seem to wipe the dumb smile plastered on your face.

He’s pulling up his pants and re-buckling his belt, you get butterflies watching him do it.

He then walks to what looks like a bathroom connected to the office, coming back with a washcloth and cleans you gently kissing the top of your head.

“Cmon let’s get you dressed then yeah. As much as I love seeing you in my chair like that, we’ll play that scenario out another day.” He picks up your panties and stuffs them into his pocket and helps you put on your pants.

“I need those König.” 

“I’ll buy you some more, these are for my personal collection.” You huff, legs feeling like jelly, and he rubs your back as you’re buttoning your jacket.

“Very well, I won’t fight a losing battle for those, at least they’re not my favorite pair-

“I’d like those as well.”

“Stop it!” You both laugh and he sounds so wonderful worry free. 

He gives you some water and sits back at his desk. You stand in the same spot you were in before everything happened.

“That was a great pleasure and I hope it brought you the same.” God he’s so formal after just rearranging your guts, you laugh like a schoolgirl.

“I did, I um, would love to do this again, or just spend more time with you.”

His heart lights up and he knows he’s got you for good,

“Schatz, my door is always open to you, granted both my office and bedroom door.” He winks at you and you blush.

You walk to the door and look back at him before you leave.

“Don’t forget about those papers I brought you.” You fake authority.

“Yes ma’am.” He laughs and watches you until the door is closed.

He takes your panties out of his pocket already missing your presence next to him, next time can’t come soon enough.

#konig x reader #konig x you #konig fanfiction #konig mw2 #konig cod #cod mw2 #cod fanfic #call of duty mw2 #könig mw2 #mw2 fanfic #könig x reader #könig #könig cod #könig x y/n #könig smut #cod smut #mw2 smut #kortac #könig x fem reader #könig x female reader #tear you apart

[cevansbrat0007]

The Scent of You

Summary: Ari loves the sweet scent of you, which is why he's content to live between your thighs.

Warnings: Smut, Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Begging, Oral Sex (fem rec), Pussy Spanking, Slight Chase Kink, Light D/s themes, Minors DNI

A/N: Written for @curls-and-eyeliner. Hopefully this is okay, ya'll. I'm honestly not sure if it worked the way I intended. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It’s no secret that Ari adores you, but you’ve learned over the course of your relationship that he is particularly fond of the way you smell. Your natural essence of spiced, sugared vanilla draws him in like a moth to a flame. 

Which means he was always looking for a reason to touch you – to pull you close and breathe you in. Whether he’s hauling you against his broad chest to bury his nose in your hair while you’re cooking dinner, or he’s busy cascading soft, sweet kisses along the delicate column of your throat when you’re both snuggled up on the couch.

Your scent is like a drug. It calls to him – like a siren’s song – demanding that your handsome Bounty Hunter give in and help himself to his next hit. 

This man is hooked on you and it’s honestly one of the most exhilarating things you’ve ever experienced. Growing up, you’d never dreamed someone would desire you like this; that anyone would want you in such an all-consuming way.

“I’m going to burn the chicken if you don’t cut it out.” You hum, smiling when you feel his brawny arms tighten around your waist. “And then we won’t have anything to eat but mashed potatoes and asparagus.”

“Mm. Then maybe we’ll just have to order-in.” His warm lips dance along your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

“Beast.” You try again, intending to issue a light reprimand. Instead your voice comes out soft and breathy. 

“You can feed me my dessert while we wait.” Ari’s long, talented fingers travel to the waistband of your pink sleep shorts, lightly tugging at the drawstring. “Just think about it.” You briefly lose your train of thought as you find yourself trying to remember if you were even wearing panties. 

You’re pretty sure that you’d neglected to put them on again after your shower. At the time, you’d told yourself that you were trying to save yourself from having to make another trip to Victoria’s Secret. 

It wasn’t your fault that your Beast wasn’t always house-trained. He was the kind of man who had a propensity for ripping off your underthings and tucking them into his pocket. Which meant you often had to make adjustments to your wardrobe.       

And all of it because the scent of your arousal drove him wild.   

Your musings are interrupted when a sudden pop of grease splashes out of the cast iron skillet, just missing both you and your man. “Alright, hands to yourself now, Beast. We’re working around hot oil and I’d feel terrible if you got hurt.” 

Jesus H. Christ, you should’ve picked another day to fry this incorrigible man some chicken.

Ari nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, gently nipping at your pulse point. “I just need a fix, baby. One little hit and I’ll be good for the rest of the night.”

“Ari…” You blow out an exasperated breath as you reach for your tongs to flip your meat. “You don’t even know if I’ve showered or not today.”

“Don’t care.” He grunts, one big hand reaching into your shorts to possessively cup your increasingly damp pussy. “You know I love how you smell. Almost as much as I love the way you taste.” Ari lips move on to kiss along the shell of your ear. A shudder courses through you when he tugs the sensitive load between his sharp teeth.

“I’m proud to wear my girl.”

Your thighs clench of their own accord, your empty walls clenching around nothing. Apparently your body was just as hungry for him as he was for you.

“Y–you can’t go around just saying things like that.” It comes out as a whimper as your cheeks heat, meanwhile Ari busies himself with grinding the heel of his lightly calloused palm against your already throbbing clit. 

“Why not, Duchess? Am I being too crass for you?” He teases as his free hand comes up to knead your breast, squeezing with just the amount of roughness he knew made your knees weak. “Turn that shit off and come feed me. I’ve been dying to get between those thighs all fuckin’ day.”

“But–but…” Your eyes flutter closed even as you reach for the knob that controls the burner, switching it off. Maybe he was right. You hated to waste this, but you could always try again another day.

Preferably on a night when your very persistent Beast was working late. 

“There we go. I knew my woman wasn’t the type to let me go hungry.” Ari murmurs, releasing his grip on your now very wet pussy in favor of tugging down your shorts. A growl rumbles deep in his throat as he watches them fall to the ground at your feet. “I knew you couldn’t be that mean.”

“You owe me chicken alfredo from Guiseppe’s, you animal.” You snarl, removing the pan from the heat. 

“Consider it done, baby.” You could tell without looking at him that he was obviously pleased with himself. 

God this man was an absolute menace. But he was yours, which meant you had to keep him. Hell, you were pretty sure that if you ever tried to put him up for adoption you were pretty sure he’d find his way home. 

Back to you. Wherever you were.

Feeling bold, you wiggle out of the Bounty Hunter’s grasp, only to be surprised when he lets you go. 

“Bet you can’t catch me.” You challenge, making a sudden dash for the stairs. 

Of course you knew he’d catch you. But sometimes you liked running from your Beast – because he was the type to always give chase which would only add spice to the proceedings.    

And just like you knew he’d be, your Bounty Hunter is on you before you reach the fourth step. A scream escapes you – but you both know it’s one of excitement. After all, Ari Levinson was every inch the predator. It’s why you lovingly referred to him as “your Beast”.

“Gotcha now, Duchess.” He hisses, a heady mix of exhilaration and pride coursing through his veins. And that’s when you finally notice the impressive tent hidden beneath the fabric of his light gray sweats. 

God, you had a feeling this man was gonna wreck you tonight. You just hoped you’d be able to walk in a straight line come tomorrow morning. 

Ari takes that moment to flip you over before gently maneuvering your body in such a way that allows you to slide down a couple of steps.

“Yeah, you caught me.” You breathe, your body aching for him. And then you part your thighs, feeling more than a little empowered when you notice the way his imperious gaze darkens with lust at the sight of your glistening cunt. “Now…what are you going to do with me?” 

Grabbing the edge of your nightshirt, you slowly pull it over your head, baring your breasts. If this man wanted you and was so willing to *ruin* your dinner for it, then who were you to deny him?   

Immediately, Ari buries his face between your slick covered thighs, his powerful hands coming up to quickly throw your legs over his muscled shoulders. A deep, satisfied groan of appreciation escapes his throat as he sucks your pulsing clit into his warm, waiting mouth.

“Holy shit!” You cry, burying your hands in his soft, chestnut strands. “Sir, please!” Your body begins to tremble as you’re treated to the most sensual of assaults.  

One thick finger gently prods at your entrance, seeking refuge in your slippery cunt. At the same time, you feel Ari release your sensitive bundle of nerves, content to lap at it with his wicked tongue.

“That's it now. Fuckin' drench me, Bird.” He orders softly, his voice coming out slightly muffled.

And then pauses he pauses again – this time to nuzzle his nose against your slippery folds. Your entire body quivers when he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent and reveling in your wetness. 

“My fuckin’ pussy.” Ari snarls, his flat tongue dragging a long, greedy swipe along your cunt. “Mine.” He pulls away long enough to slap your core in silent demand.  

“Fuck yes!” You agree, eagerly rocking your hips in time with each delicious lash of his tongue. He swirls it over your little bundle of nerves, making your toes curl.

“Would wear you all day if you’d let me.” His nimble fingers begin to work you over, stretching you in the way he knew would make you crazy. “Proud to wear my girl.”

“Omigosh!Omigosh!Omigosh!” You wail, your velvety walls clenching around his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you. 

“Promise to always feed me when I need it, little Bird.” You feel his teeth lightly graze your clit once more, loving the way it makes you thrash and moan.

That’s right. This man was breaking you down on your living room stairs. And it was so good that you couldn’t even be bothered to make yourself give a proper fuck. 

Dear God, this was the most exquisite kind of pleasure.

“Don’t you dare let me starve.” His fingers curve inside you, expertly finding your spot.

Holy fucking shit your man was making one hell of compelling argument, as evidenced by sweet cries and your shaking legs. 

“Never.” Your thighs tighten around his head, threatening to smother him even as you gush around him. 

Just the way you knew he fucking loved.     

“There we go -- yeah, that’s it.” Ari rasps, smacking your right flank, reveling in the way you clench around him as you continue to ride his face. Meanwhile, you’re busy writhing in your man’s arms, trying not to escape his grasp as that familiar coil of pleasure begins to tighten in your belly.

You know he knows you’re close. So he picks up his pace, clearly enjoying the way you’re coming apart under his feral loving. 

“I just need one good one from you – just one good one to start. And then I’m gonna give you my cock.” He increases the pace of his fingers, not missing the way your head is thrown back in complete submission. “And after that, I’ll order you dinner.” 

“Fuck, Beast!” You pant, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. "Whatever you fucking say - ooh!" Your open palm slaps against the wall as you try to run. But his grip is too strong.

Instead he simply chuckles before pausing his feast long enough to press one hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh - his teeth scraping over your damp flesh as he takes you higher and higher.

“And while we wait, I’m gonna go ahead feed you my cock.” He quips with a feral flash of teeth. “And don’t worry,  I’ll make sure you eat every bite.”

END

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[gale-force-storm]

He refuses to fall for the first person to show him kindness. He may be feeling sorry for himself, but that's a bridge too far.

Even if they are beautiful. And kind to everyone, not just him. And brave. And clever. And strong. And they love animals, and reading. And they have a wry sense of humour that he adores.

He won't. He can't. Besides all else, this is decidedly not the time. A bomb in his chest and a worm in his head and a weight on his shoulders and a shame in his stomach and a shattered heart he's still trying to gather the pieces of. Desperately clinging to the cloak of his past, wrapping himself in his former confidence, pretending it hasn't been worn threadbare with time in isolation and eaten ragged by the moths of doubt and fear and past mistakes.

He fell from grace so far so fast, but he cannot beg affection off the first hand to offer him help up, even if it is the first time he's touched another person in months. Even if that hand did send a sudden warmth through him and feel so right in his own he could almost cry from it.

...This is getting out of hand.

He can just be friendly with them, surely. How does one make friends, again? Shared interests? He mostly just has the one, so he'll share what he can. They pick it up quickly, and the warm magic that surrounds them is a balm on his soul. Right up until they imagine kissing him, and his heart skips a beat. It can't be. It can't be. They can't want him back. It's not possible. And how, after it all, after everything, is he meant to resist the overwhelming temptation of being wanted?

They don't let up, either. Lingering glances. Warm smiles. All but propositioning him at the tiefling party. If there is a single positive thing to be said about his year of orb-imposed abstinence, it's that the willpower he had to build up and the practice denying himself were the only things that enabled him to decline their advances.

Well, that and the risk of blowing up the both of them, along with everyone else in or near the camp.

The warm smiles and lingering gazes and casual touches still continue, though.

This is fine. He's fine. He can't remember the last time he felt like this, someone cared for him like this, and he can't do a damn thing about it, but he's fine. Everything is fine. As fine as it can be, anyways, given everything else about the situation.

He supposes he should probably be more upset about Mystra's orders. At this point, though, it's hard to feel like it's anything besides a way out. A relief that he can be good for something. One more miserable experience, and then he's done with it, and all their problems are solved. There are worse things.

Except.

They're so angry about it. Everyone is, but them especially. Arguing with both him and Elminster the entire time, insisting there's another option. That they'll find or make one. Whatever they have to do to keep him around.

Gods help him, but he does want to stay with them. Stay for them.

He sleeps that night, and awakens with a jolt, a groan, and a realization. He's glad that prestidigitation exists to clean himself up without leaving his tent and risking the others' notice. His body had, apparently, caught up with certain implications before his brain. Though from what snippets of his dream he remembers, maybe it was only his waking mind that had been lagging behind.

He wants them, and he can finally have them. Can give them as much of himself as he's able, in the time he has left.

He had refused, at first, the idea of falling for the first person to show him kindness. And he hasn't. He's fallen for someone who is so much more that that. And he will not, cannot, die without letting them know. If he has to leave them, and he fears he will, then he will not leave them feeling unappreciated, or uncherished, or unloved. Not when he can finally embrace the full depth and breadth of what he feels for them. Has felt for them for what can't have been more than a tenday or two, but feels like a lifetime and a moment all at once.

He will not leave without showing them the full scope of his admiration and appreciation and sheer joy at their presence. The full scope of how impossibly deeply he already loves them. Not while he has any say in it.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #gale dekarios #gale x tav #gale of waterdeep #my writing #is this prose or poetry? idk! is it long and rambling? absolutely. #did i write it in a weird fervor at 1 am last night? you bet i did! #i'm trying to get in the practice of actually sharing the stuff i make again so uh. here it is! #angst #pining #i can't seem to stop writing angst about this man

[llamagoddessofficial]

It was the best hidden room in his castle.

Nightmare appeared, emerging from within the liquid shadows at the far corner, taking on a solid form. The room had no doors- that was the trick to it. Only a being who already knew the room’s location in the castle, and had the ability to transport themselves through space, would be capable of accessing this place.

... Though there was no door, there was a window. Just one. A circular skylight, directly above the bed... it gave a perfect view of the stars.

It was a small, comfortable chamber, the obsidian walls draped with finely embroidered midnight blue tapestries to maintain warmth. Ancient murals, moons and interlocking patterns that had long lost their meaning, inlaid with silver- the silver caught the light from the small glowing blue stones that dotted the walls. The room was barely brighter than a dim twilight. 

Of course... the most important thing in the whole room was what was at the centre.

... Nightmare approached your bed.

A fine bed, of course. A large canopy draped luxuriously, for even more warmth, protection and quiet. Only the best for you. You were tucked under sumptuous sheets, your head upon a satin pillow, sweet little face barely visible under all the layers of comfort.

... He reached out, tucking the blanket down slightly, to get a better look at you. You were so peaceful. Your cheeks had regained some colour, over the past few days, as had your lips- but your eyelids did not move.

He knew what it looked like. If his damned brother found this room, and the sleeping human, he’d jump to conclusions (as he always did); Nightmare had stolen a human, cursed them with eternal sleep. Worst case scenario, Nightmare was tormenting this human as a sick game- best case scenario, Nightmare has grown so feverishly attached he would rather have someone sleep in his arms forever than be free to walk away from him.

...

And... well. It would be a lie to say that he wasn’t enjoying having you this way. But it was missing one crucial detail.

... You would wake up the moment you wanted to.

He sat on the bed, beside you. He reached out, and gently stroked your hair... enjoying the softness and texture.

You didn’t stir.

Nightmare had felt your pain far across your universe. Like a moth to a flame, he came to you- and though he originally had only the intent to feed, he loved you the moment he laid eyes on you. Your Soul, such a pretty thing, cracking under the weight of its pain; the fractures sparkled like fault lines in a diamond. You were holding the agony within, unwilling to let anyone know. You were on the verge of shattering. On the verge of your Soul going out.

When he came for you, you didn’t protest, you didn't even struggle.

You had looked at him with an empty, accepting expression.

Perhaps you thought he was death? Cute.

... So he took you, instead. You let him put his arms around you- he had never had someone accept him so completely, his jealous desire only intensified. He carried you back to his palace, he cradled you lovingly. Once your eyes had closed, he laid you down in the quietest room, in his finest bed... cuddled under his softest sheets and guarded by his most possessive magic.

The spell in question was one he hadn’t used in a long, long time. There was nothing on any Earth that could forcibly awaken you from your slumber. No sound, no touch, no pain nor magic. No power he (or any other great being) possessed, nothing in the wide multiverse. Nothing could awaken you from the outside.

But... the moment you wanted to open your eyes, you would. The tail of the Rupert’s drop. As if waking from a pleasant midday nap, the spell would shatter into dust around you.

It was a one-way spell. That was what made it so powerful.

... He continued to stroke your hair. Your dreams were safety- he ensured nothing crossed your mind but visions of peace and warmth. You curled deeper into his dreams like a hibernating rabbit. He could sense the injuries in your slowly Soul mending, your wounds slowly healing, as you were finally allowed to rest.

You had yet to even think of opening your eyes.

At that moment, the moon emerged. Its light passed through the skylight window... catching a small array of crystals that hung above your bed. Flecks of iridescence silently scattered across the walls, and over your face. 

“... beautiful.” He murmured. “no one will ever hurt you again, my darling. no one. i promise.”

...

... You, of course... did not even stir.

#concept was clacking around in m brain like a marble #llama writes #its one of the kindest things nightmare has ever done #he didn't expect to enjoy being kind so much #might have to indulge himself a little more~

[peonysgreenhouse]

-`♡´- the day you and the stars disappeared.

summary: the discovery and aftermath of your disappearance. what do your beloveds do in your absence?

tags: obey me characters (lucifer, mammon, levi, asmo, satan, beel, belphie, diavolo, barbatos, solomon, simeon, and thirteen) x gn!reader, angst, spoilers for the first chapter of obey me! nightbringer.

When Lucifer wakes up, the left side of his bed is cold.

It's not the most unusual thing. Lucifer was much less of a morning person that you were. He glaces to his bedside table. 8:30; it was too early for you to be out of bed on the weekend. Even if you woke up early, you'd still be tucked into his arms, or scrolling through Devilgram on your D.D.D.

Lucifer sits up, a pout on his face. You couldn't have strayed too far in such a short time.

"Beloved?" He calls, hoping you could hear him if you were in the bathroom. Lucifer says your name, this time a little louder, but again gets no response.

It wasn't your turn to be on breakfast duty... Perhaps you had a bad dream? You did tend to hide those things from him.

He closes his eyes and thinks of you. Usually, he would feel a faint warmth, like the fluttering of a moth's wings underneath his skin; it was the feeling of your soul connected to his through your pact. But now, even with all his focus, the feeling of your soul connection is nothing but a cold static.

Lucifer swallows the panic welling up in his chest and stands, quickly throwing on his clothes and rushing from his room. He starts in the basement, looking in any place a human could possibly squeeze into, desperately calling out your name. The ever-composed Lucifer, reduced to tearing the house apart when his human isn't in his sights.

He hopes that he is overreacting. He hopes that he'll find you curled up with Mammon, or on a walk outside the house.

He hopes that you are still somewhere that he can reach.

"Oy, Lucifer, what's going on?" Mammon. Lucifer takes a deep breath and tries to collect himself. If he let himself be emotional, his brothers would take that as a sign that something is very, very wrong. He would have to hold himself together, for now. "You're waking everyone up."

"Mammon, have you seen MC?" Calm enough.

"I haven't seen 'em since last night, they were with you, right?" You and Lucifer stayed up late to finish paperwork for your new student council role. "You didn't make 'em angry, did you?"

Lucifer's pout deepens. He's sure he'll age a millennia faster with how much he worries over you. "No, nothing like that. We finished up the assignments and then went to bed." Lucifer sighs, "and then when I woke up this morning, they weren't there. It's unlike them."

"You sure they just didn't go for a walk or something?" Mammon checks his phone to see if there were any messages from you.

"Mammon... try to connect to them with your pact."

Mammon closes his eyes, and repeats the same action Lucifer did only a few minutes prior.

Nothing.

Mammon instantly shifts into his demon form, fear evident in his eyes.

"I'm gonna go drag Solomon over here. He'll be able to track 'em if they're nearby, right?"

"He should be. Bring Simeon too, if he's there.". Lucifer straightens himself out. "I'll wake Leviathan and then go get Diavolo and Barbatos. Maybe they'll know more about what's going on."

Mammon nods, out the door before Lucifer can even finish his sentence.

Lucifer doesn't allow himself any more moments alone, he rushes upstairs to shake Leviathan awake.

-`♡´-

"No need to pound on the door, Mammon." Simeon smiles, but Mammon can tell he's annoyed. Giving Simeon a minute to open the door was Mammon's idea of being patient, he had half a mind to knock the damn thing off its hinges. "Is there anything—".

"Where's Solomon?" Mammon cuts him off, pushing past him and into Purgatory Hall's living room. The smell of fresh coffee fills the air; just how early did these guys wake up?

"He's still sleeping, I believe. Why are you in such a rush?" Simeon asks.

"MC's missing. Need him to find them. He in his room?"

"What?"

"You heard me!" Mammon can hardly keep it together. He didn't want to talk about it, he knew that if he started talking he wouldn't be able to stop.

He hadn't felt your soul connection so cold since... since...

"What's going on?" Solomon steps out of the hallway, still in his pajamas. "I heard Mammon yelling. What happened to MC?"

Of course he'd have been listening in. "Lucifer woke up this morning and they weren't there. Can't hardly feel their soul at all, it's like they're—".

"What do you mean?" Solomon's eyebrows quirk up, clearly not expecting to hear that. "What does it feel like?"

"Damn it, Solomon, it feels like it did when Belphie... y'know." Mammon can't bring himself to say it. It was too awful, what he did to you. "Enough talking, do your magic thing and find 'em!"

Solomon and Simeon exchange worried looks. "Alright, let me get dressed. Then we'll head off. But Mammon...".

"What?" Mammon huffs, already heading towards the door.

"I'm sure they're fine. You know how capable they are. Perhaps they just wanted some alone time."

"Yes, MC has survived a lot. I'm sure they just popped back up to the Human World or something... We'll probably be laughing about this with them at the end of the day."

Simeon smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. Mammon tries not to let the thought that they might be trying to placate him bother him.

-`♡´-

"You want me to watch over our brothers? Why? What's happening?" Levi sits up in his bathtub bed, disoriented from being shaken awake so suddenly.

He had heard the commotion earlier, but assumed that Mammon had done something to warrant Lucifer's ire. Lucifer searching through Levi's room while he was sleeping wasn't the strangest occurrence. Mammon did hide things in here from time to time.

"Levi, don't worry over this right now. I'll fill you in once we figure out what's going on."

"No, Lucifer, tell me now!" Levi stands, suddenly very awake. "You're worried over something, and you're never worried, not like this."

Even standing up straight, Lucifer was still looking down at Leviathan.

"Telling you would only make the situation worse." Levi hates how patronizing Lucifer sounds. He hated it when they first fell and he hated it now. "Make sure the others stay put, I'll be back soon."

Levi moves quickly to stop him from leaving. "If you don't tell me, I'll... I'll summon Lotan!" Lucifer steps forward, but Leviathan doesn't budge. "I'll really do it, Lucifer! I'm serious about this!"

It would probably take Levi a few hundred years to muster up the courage to stand up to Lucifer like this again. But watching the cold pity fade from his brother's eyes and turn into something more akin to pride was worth it.

"MC is gone, and I'm going to the Demon Lord's Castle to seek Diavolo and Barbatos's help." Lucifer says it with such a barely-maintained calmness that Leviathan knows this is serious. That you weren't sucked into a silly game or hiding out in Purgatory Hall for the weekend.

Levi feels his heart sink.

"Now, can you do as you're told and stay put? I'll be back soon." Lucifer squeezes Levi's shoulder, forcing Levi to listen. "If anything happens, call me."

He nods, but once Lucifer turns to leave, he quietly falls back into bed. Levi watches Henry swim around in his goldfish tank; you had just fed him yesterday, how did things change so much in just a few hours?

No, he can't shut down here. If something happened to you and he wasn't there to help he would never forgive himself.

You had saved him so many times before, it was time for him to be your Knight. (God, he sounded like a normie).

-`♡´-

When Mammon arrives back to the House of Lamentation with Simeon, Solomon, and Thirteen (Solomon had called her for help), the front door is blown off its hinges. Levi peeks through sheepishly at the four of them, waving for them to come in.

"What the hell happened here?" Thirteen tries to shut the door behind them, but it slowly starts to creak back open as soon as its closed.

"I told Satan what happened." Levi sighs, fiddling with the ends of his sleeves. "He went out to calm himself down. Said he'll be back by the time Lucifer gets home."

"Have you guys found anything here?" Simeon asks Leviathan. Just past Levi in the living room was Asmodeus, who was anxiously staring down at his phone.

Beel descends the stairs at the same time Belphie comes up from the basement: "I checked all the rooms upstairs, they're not up there."

Belphie shakes his head: "They're nowhere in the basement, either."

"I've been texting anyone that knows them from R.A.D. No one has seen them yet." Asmodeus blinks back tears. "This is crazy, you know! Why does this kind of thing always happen to them?"

"Well, they're not dead. So stop acting so sad!" Thirteen chimes in, sprawling herself out on the living room couch. "I checked their candle this morning myself. I can check again but trust me, I would know if they died. I'm a reaper, y'know?"

"You checked their candle this morning? Isn't that quite a walk from where you sleep?" Despite the situation, Solomon just can't help himself. Thirteen sits up and throws a pillow at the sorcerer, cheeks flushed.

"I just had some business over there, that's all." Thirteen huffs, sinking back into the sofa so she doesn't have to see Solomon's smug face. "Anyways, aren't you supposed to be doing your thing?"

"Yeah, get to it, Solomon." Mammon tugs on the back of Solomon's cape, pointing him towards Lucifer's room. "They were last seen in there. See if you can find anything."

-`♡´-

Simeon stands near the doorway to Lucifer's room with Mammon, watching as Solomon searches for traces of anything that might give them a clue as to your whereabouts.

Simeon had thought that he had accepted being human. He thought the feeling of powerlessness that was so overwhelming to him at first had finally settled; there was nothing he could do to gain his grace back after what he had done, after all.

But now? He knew even as an angel there wasn't much more he could do to find you. If he had become your Guardian Angel like he had teased so many times, he could at least feel out if you were in danger.

Cautious Simeon, always so scared to make that final jump.

He says a prayer for you, quietly. Simeon hopes that his Father would still lend his ear to his own child, no matter how far he had strayed.

"There's one strong concentration here." Solomon frowns, gesturing to an area a little above shoulder height, right beside the left side of Lucifer's bed. "but that's all I can sense right now."

"Yeah, there's gotta be something else you missed." Mammon anxiously looks around the room, checking to see for himself if anything was out of place. "Keep looking."

They both follow Solomon as he does just that. He checks Lucifer's bathroom, in the closets, in the halls by his door... Nothing.

"I just don't get it." Solomon says, eyes closed in thought. He leans against the low table in the hallways. "If someone went through all this trouble to kidnap MC, why would they leave such an obvious trace behind?"

"Who gives a shit their motive right now. Tell us that you found something that can lead us to them, Solomon." Desperation drips from Mammon's voice. Mammon needs some hope to hold on to; Simeon empathizes with that feeling.

If Thirteen hadn't assured everyone you were still alive Simeon is sure he'd be snapping at Solomon too. Solomon was a good friend, but there's something about how casual he is with everything that makes Simeon angry. Did he not love you too?

"I did, don't worry, Mammon." Solomon pats Mammon's shoulder, "Once everyone gets back, I'll explain what I found."

-`♡´-

Diavolo, Barbatos, and Lucifer arrive shortly after Solomon is done with his search.

The anxiety in the room is palpable; any news at all could set them alight. Especially Satan, who seemed to be trying to remember old breathing exercises to keep back his demon form.

"Solomon, they're here!" Asmodeus announces, and Simeon, Solomon, and Mammon come out from Lucifer's room to join everyone in the living room.

Lucifer doesn't comment on the broken door, he doesn't much care if the house itself was destroyed in the process of finding you.

"Tell us what you've found." Diavolo asks; Lucifer had informed him and Barbatos about what had happened on the way back from the castle. It had been a long while since Diavolo had seen his old friend look so grave.

Solomon comes around the couch and takes a seat by Thirteen. She scoots away.

"Well, there wasn't much left behind to find.... Which is good in its own way." Solomon crosses his legs. "Time magic was used sometime in Lucifer's bedroom last night. It appears MC has been taken to another point in this timeline."

As soon as the words leave his mouth, all eyes go to Barbatos. Even Barbatos looks stunned, eyes widening in shock.

"Time magic?" Satan stands, hands clenching at his sides. "I would like an explanation then, Barbatos. Now."

"I... am afraid I am as in the dark as you all are." The hesitation in Barbatos's voice does little to persuade the brothers. Beel stands and keeps a watchful eye on Satan. If you were here, you wouldn't want anyone to get hurt for your sake.

Diavolo stands in front of Barbatos. "Now, you all know Barbatos isn't the only being capable of time magic."

"Is it possible that someone else used your portals?" Thirteen asks. "You leave those things wide open, don'tcha? Seems like an easy target."

"I would know if anyone other than myself used them, yes. But I did not feel any abnormalities last night."

Belphie turns to Solomon. "Wait, you said time magic, what time period did they get sent to?"

"Ah, well that's a little tricky." Solomon answers with a sheepish smile. "The residual magic was strong, but you would expect more to be left behind if they went to the future. Future magic is highly unstable, anyways. It's more likely they were sent somewhere into the past, probably around the time of the Celestial War based on my analysis."

Belphie shakes his head. "You can't say 'probably', you have to be certain about this."

"Then, yes, I am certain that is where they are." Solomon answers smoothly.

The second the words leave Solomon's mouth, Mammon speaks up:

"Okay, so how do we get them back?!"

-`♡´-

With lots of loud disagreements, and a few almost-fights, they come to terms that it has to be Solomon that goes after you.

No one particularly likes that idea, but he was the only one who wouldn't completely disrupt the timeline. His past self wouldn't be in the Devildom, so he could avoid paradoxes, and he was more than strong enough to protect himself if need be.

That same day, Barbatos prepares the portal for Solomon to go through after you. But not before one last warning from Diavolo:

Diavolo's eyes are stern, hand gripping Solomon's shoulder tight enough to where it would be painful. Solomon takes a step back, but Diavolo's body follows him.

"You bring them back safe." A warning, "And bring them back swiftly. Whatever you must do to get them back... do it."

Solomon, frankly, had had enough warnings from the demon brothers, and from his old friend Thirteen to understand that his life was forfeit if he came back without you.

He supposed he couldn't fault their protectiveness, however. If your safety was left alone in the hands of any other, he's sure he'd do worse to guarantee you came back alive and well.

"Of course," Solomon rolls his shoulder, shrugging off the Prince's hold. "You know I want them back just as much as you do. Perhaps even more."

Diavolo pats his back, his usual genial smile returning to his face, and he laughs. "Oh, I doubt that."

Barbatos gestures to the two, indicating that everything is ready for Solomon to step through. Solomon doesn't feel anything but calm, for what did he have to be anxious about? He was getting to see you again.

Was it selfish of him to be happy that he would be in a time period where the one you would rely on the most would be him?

"Bring them back to us," Is the last thing he hears before he steps through the portal, and into the past.

-`♡´- Lucifer

Lucifer busies himself with his work. If he fills his schedule enough, he doesn't have time to worry about you constantly, doesn't have time for his mind to cycle through the worst of what could happen with you out of his reach.

He volunteers to take on all of your duties that you were newly appointed as R.A.D.'s newest student council officer. Lucifer doesn't want anything to get in the way of you spending time with him again once you get back.

When he isn't working, he takes care of his brothers. The House of Lamentation always becomes a little quieter when you're not around, but the silence this time is more somber.

Lucifer doesn't scold them as much, gives them more leeway when they skip classes or forget to turn in assignments. He knows they're struggling and he doesn't want to add to that burden.

He hardly sleeps unless he passes out from exhaustion. When he does, his dreams are of blame. Why didn't he just wake up when you were taken? You were right there.

-`♡´- Mammon

Mammon had to be held back by Levi and Beel to keep him from going into the portal after Solomon.

It wasn't fair that that guy got to go and he had to stay behind. He was your first man! Mammon wasn't even sure that Solomon didn't play a role in helping you disappear. He never trusted that guy.

But all he could do now was hope that he would bring you back, right? It didn't matter anymore who saved you, just the fact that you were alive and safe and in his arms would be enough for him.

Mammon misses you ardently.

He texts you about his day every day. He knows the messages won't deliver, but he doesn't have anyone else to send them too. Sometimes he'll even call your phone so he can hear your voice in the voicemail. It helps him sleep.

-`♡´- Leviathan

He's just so tired of this. He thought once your trials at R.A.D. were over, you could settle down in the House of Lamentation forever.

If anyone deserved a life full of peace, it was you. You had endured way too much hardship on their account to keep having these things happen to you.

Levi tries to maintain a normalcy for you to return to. He buys games that you had on your radar for you to play with him once you got back.

He likes looking at the pictures you both had taken together. Cosplay pics, photobooth strips, candid polaroids... precious memories that could never be replaced.

And, when he really misses you, he takes one of your school uniforms, hanging up neatly in your closet and takes it to bed with him. It still smells like you, and if he closes his eyes, he can picture you're there with him.

Though, waking up and seeing you weren't there is like losing you all over again.

-`♡´- Satan

Satan worries.

He knew what he was like right after the Celestial War. He knew what monstrous things he did when he couldn't control his anger; before he made a conscious decision to crawl his way out of his emotional stagnation and to be more than he was created to be.

He gets into a habit of hanging out with Thirteen. Satan never really cared much for her attitude, but she's the only one who would know if you were still alive.

She's tolerable, in that when they get together they always end up talking about you. Satan doesn't tell her the best stories about you, no, those were reserved only for himself.

When he is alone, he often drifts towards your room. He knows his brothers often sleep there when you're gone, so he washes your sheets and makes your bed back up when they're not there.

Satan even tidies his own room just enough so that you would have room to sleep in his bed with him when you returned.

-`♡´- Asmodeus

To have both you and Solomon taken away from him in the same day, it seems a bit cruel, doesn't it?

He's thankful for all the consolations from his friends and his fans; the well wishes are nice, but it isn't the same as hearing it from your voice.

Asmo tells anyone who will listen about what happened to you in hopes that they'll spin stories back at him. Even if most were lies conjured to make him feel better, there always are some true stories in the mix. He hears a few rumors of ancient, powerful demons that he hands over to Satan and Belphie to look more into. He was glad he could do something.

Asmodeus starts collecting things that remind him of you. Flowers that never wilt, lamb plushies, silk pajamas — there's a box in his room of gifts to give you once you get back home.

He writes down everything that you've missed since you disappeared, he has so much to catch you up on, after all! And if there's a lot of 'I love you's' and things he misses about you in between topics, he's sure you won't mind hearing them, too.

-`♡´- Beelzebub

Beel feels a little lost without you there.

You were so ingrained in his daily schedule that he doesn't know what to do with a lot of his time. You, Mammon, him, and Belphie would always hang out after school, since the four of you had the same last period.

There was no sun in the Devildom, but he didn't need any to feel warm sitting next to you three. Mammon would bring cards, and you would take turns picking out games to play.

You would usually win; he loved seeing your smile as you asked for praise for winning. Belphie and Mammon would pout, but Beel was always happy to tell you you did a good job. He keeps an ongoing score sheet somewhere in his backpack:

MC - 102, Mammon - 16, Belphie - 59, Beel - 20. He didn't care much for winning as long as everyone was happy.

He makes his way to the gardens and finds your usual spot empty. Beel waits there for a long while, but only Belphie shows up.

Beel thinks that maybe in the past, you were waiting for him in the same spot too. The thought makes him feel a little less lonely.

-`♡´- Belphegor

Belphie misses you, of course, but he really finds this whole situation odd.

Time magic. Diavolo had said that other beings were capable of it, but Belphie had never heard of anyone, besides Barbatos, that had mastered it enough to send someone back that far. Belphie wasn't the most well-connected person, but he thinks he would've heard about them by now.

Satan thinks the same thing, and so the 'Anti-Lucifer League' is postponed, and in its place the 'MC's Detective Agency' forms. Beel sits in on most meetings, and the rest of the brothers join in occasionally.

But with so few leads there was only so much they could do. But still, Belphie is determined not to give up. If you were in his shoes, he knows you would do the same thing.

He would never admit it to anyone, but he wants to hear you say that you're proud of his work. To feel you pet his head and tell him he did good, to kiss him on the cheeks for working so hard.

...And, of course, making whoever did this pay for what they did would be good, too.

-`♡´- Diavolo

The last note you left him is still taped to his desk:

A chibi of you fist-pumping is drawn on the side of the yellow sticky. There's a big speech bubble that reads: "You can do it, Dia! Knock out that paperwork!" He can't help but smile every time he sees it.

It's silly, but when he looks down and reads those words of encouragement he feels your loss even more strongly. He's sure Solomon will be back with you soon, but as the weeks roll on, he starts getting impatient.

He sends all his best men to search for whoever did this to you. Without any solid leads, it was like chasing the wind, but it helped settle his mind, if only a little.

He supposes you did spoil him too much. He forgot what it was like to be so lonely when you were around. And unlike the brothers, he couldn't just curl up in your bed whenever he wanted to be reminded of you.

Would it be so improper to move you into the castle once you got back? At least here, he would know you were safe. Nothing like this would ever happen to you again on his watch.

-`♡´- Barbatos

Barbatos knows that all eyes are on him.

It isn't hard to figure out that the brothers are suspicious of him. Mammon's crows perch outside his bedroom, Satan takes extra trips to the library in the castle, Belphie "gets lost" wandering the halls after dinner... Even Lucifer asks him pointed questions about that night.

He understands that it comes with the territory of his powers, but when has he ever done anything to jeopardize the exchange program? If he wanted to send you away would he not have done it when you first arrived? Would he not have let you die at the hands of Belphegor?

The him of today would never think of such a thing. Barbatos cared too much about your safety to let you wander too far from his sights.

He knows it is an indulgence that only he is afforded, but he can't help but steal looks into your life back in time as you try to find your way back to them.

Perhaps the others would like to hear about how you are doing, but Barbatos thinks these things are best kept to himself. He was never a fan of sharing, anyways.

-`♡´- Simeon

Luke cries and cries and cries when Simeon tells him what happened to you. Simeon holds the boy in his arms tight, rocking him back and forth to soothe his troubled heart.

He had done this many nights in the past, and he's sure he'd do it for many nights in the future.

The last time it had happened it had been when Simeon had told Luke about losing his powers. You had been there, then, and had cried as soon as you saw tears well up in Luke's eyes. Luke was less sad and more angry at Simeon for not telling him sooner. He had held you both in his arms that night, and before long the three of you fell asleep together.

Simeon wishes you were here now to hold him. To tell him it was going to be alright. But he supposed if you were here the both of them wouldn't have anything to cry about.

Michael allows Luke to stay in Purgatory Hall for as long as it would take to get you back. Simeon is thankful for the company; with Raphael and Solomon gone, and the Hall silent, it was easy for Simeon to start blaming himself.

He hears Luke pray every night for your safety, and Simeon slips back into the habit as well.

-`♡´- Thirteen

Thirteen spends a lot more time in her cave when you're not around.

What's the point of going to R.A.D. if you weren't there? It's not like she cared much about anyone else that went there. And to hear the brothers cry about missing you... She couldn't take it.

She cared about you too, but you didn't see her moping around about it!

But even worse was the fact Solomon got to go back in time to save you. Just thinking about you spending all that alone time with that shitty Sorcerer makes her blood boil; he could live a thousand lifetimes and never once deserve you.

She goes and checks your candle every morning to see if the flame is going strong. Thirteen breathes easy when she sees the bright orange flame light up the darkness.

Reapers weren't supposed to interfere directly with mortal's lifespans, but she supposed it wouldn't hurt if she poured some of Solomon's melted wax onto your candle. It's not like he would need it anyways.

Besides, this was her making up for lost time. Every day you were away shouldn't count! You didn't choose to go back in time, after all!

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #obey me x reader #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #asmodeus #satan #beelzebub #belphegor #diavolo #solomon #simeon #thirteen #barbatos #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #diavolo x reader #simeon x reader #x reader #imagine #angst #fic #repost ! #deleted at 8k notes... feelsbadman

[mo-aiki]

Yandere Isekai M. Characters x F. Reader

A/N: stalking, obession, implied violence, I don't condone it, I just write it.

One day you had woken up into another world as a daughter of a Count. To learn you were stuck in a book you had read on a off chance. Well, how must you survive when 3 men are coming after you?

YANDERE FIANCE! Is at first, not very into you. As Duke of the North, he is cold and rather frightening at first.

YANDERE FIANCE! Noticed you one day from afar. He had noticed your change of attitude.

YANDERE FIANCE! Was struck with an arrow from cupid one day, when he saw your smile and lovely personality. In the garden of your home, he was told by your father you were there. You seem to have been taking care of the dog he has gifted the family, laughing and smiling. He can't help but feel his heart beat.

YANDERE FIANCE! who now dreams of a life with you in it. How many kids you would have, how you'll spend your married days, and how you'll always spend every waking moment by his side and no longer apart.

YANDERE FIANCE! Can't help but want to see that smile again. He sees you smile rather easily. With a few simple gifts in hand, from your constant rambling, he was able to make you smile and hear your sickeningly sweet voice as you thanked him.

YANDERE FIANCE! Who hates the pest around you. The many men, blind to the fact that you have a fiance right in front of you. Must he threaten them in order for them to be silent?

YANDERE FIANCE! can't seem to get the most annoying of annoying pests away from his sweet flower.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! has spent every summer at your mansion together.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! Who's parents are friends with yours and the reason why you spent your childhood with him.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! hates your fiance for some reason. He would always glare, and you were confused with his actions.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! who somewhat dislikes your new self, because now you welcome everyone, instead of being mean and cold. Now moths keep sticking to you in hopes that your light doesn't go out.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! who makes himself look weak and meak to make you want to protect him. If he looked like a mouse, then you should want to protect him, plus, he was younger than you.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! Who would have killed your fiance by now if it wasn't for his good lineage. It saves his life.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! who can't help but think of a life without these 2 men and just him. To have tea parties together, to always know about each other.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! has the worst anger issues when it comes to you, but is able to mask it in front of you to get on your good side.

YANDERE CHILDHOOD FRIEND! is the weakest of the 3 men, but is contempt with it, but he wants to grow stronger in order to save you from these 2, clearly crazy men.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! who was a war hero and known as a mad dog who works under the Royal Family.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! Fell in love with you, first sight at a ball he was forced to attend. You seemed to have sparkled and shined in the light.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! who followed you outside when you had said you wanted to catch a break. That's when he started to get to know you more.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! Who fell in love with your kindness. He was once a dirty, poor orphan no one paid attention to until his war victory. You treated him as if you didn't pay attention to the reason why he was here. He felt like you knew him personally.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! Who wanted to talk to you more that night, but your fiance, the Duke swooped in and took you back into the palace. He noticed his arm, clinging around your waist, and couldn't help but feel a fire ignite within him.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! Who saw you once again on the street, with your childhood friend. He had wanted you to notice him like he did you. But saw that friend, clearly making sure you don't notice him

YANDERE MALE LEAD! afterwards couldn't find a way to meet you, than to apply for a job for your family as a guard.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! who has now seen you more often. You voice, your laugh and your smile, contagious to him.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! Who couldn't help but fall in love with you. He felt like a moth experiencing a flame for the first time. He can never go back into the darkness.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! Who hates the Duke with a passion. A man with more power than him and more of an influence over you. A man you can gift you many things, unashamedly and get your attention, somewhat romantically.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! who hates the clearly dangerous, childhood friend, who clings onto you like you were his last thing in life.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! Who is the strongest of the 2, considering that he is a war hero and has been through military training.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! who wishes to snap both of their necks, if it wasn't for their noble lineage that would get him in trouble. How could he kill them if he'd get in trouble and might never see you again.

YANDERE MALE LEAD! is noe in the plans to kidnap you and whisk you away, somewhere, far, far, away, where you 2 can finally experience each others love.

Now who will you chose. To live a life of luxury, to live a life of being a protector, or to accept a man's feelings before something bad happens to you?

A/N: this is now going to be my real account so I'm sorry for all of those having to deal with my bs. I still take request and stuff like that so if you want something about them then request away!

#yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #yandere duke #yandere childhood friend #x f reader #yandere male lead #obession

[vermithorn]

* DISSOLVE

pairing: cregan stark x targaryen!reader

summary: an unexpected visitor arrives at winterfell, cregan is surprised to say the least.

contains: 18+, fingering, p in v, afab!reader, she/her pronouns, biting(?) marking(?), masturbation, asks about consent all the way becasue thats cregan ok.

author's note: i was horny in class, you cant relate to my struggle as i wrote this. my comeback and its cregan because i dream about this man and i need him carnally... also pls forgive any mistakes yall know my first language its spanish so don't be mean and leave feedback if you liked it !! pls reblog !!! !!!!!!! also totally inspired by mi amor @fairysluna fic about targ!reader x cregan yall pls read it its GOD TIER. ok bye now pls enjoy !

Winterfell was.. nice.

Your dragon, The Bronze Fury, wasn't fond of the snowy wasteland you commanded him to fly on. He grumbled as he landed near the northern capital, clouds of smoke coming out of his nostrils as he let you dismount him carefully, as much as he hated the north, he couldn't be mad at his rider.

You petted Vemithor’s snout, his red eyes intently watching you and allowing it, because after all, you were his little human. “Obey, stay here.” Vermithor roared, complaining in his own way, you just laughed and waved him off as you made your way to the castle.

*

“Warden Stark, this is a matter of great urgency…” 

Cregan stopped himself from rolling his eyes at the request of the Umber patriarch, a much older man who was filled with jealousy because Cregan was the Warden of the North and he wasn't, always mentioning it to the great council that was held once a month in the northern capital.

“My lord,” Cregan sighed, “I do not have time for this right now, you had your time for requesting when we were six hours in the council meeting earlier today.”

Lord Umber was about to speak again, smoke coming out his ears but was interrupted by the door of the Great Hall opening, a servant of the castle stepping in and announcing loudly;

“Princess Y/N Targaryen,” Cregan’s head snapped towards the doors, taking in the sight of you entering the Great Hall.

You were bundled up in heavy clothing to protect against the cold weather, wearing a thick fur-lined cloak over a long (but tight?) black dress with red accents, with the three-headed dragon sigil embroidered on your chest.

“Lord Umber, return to this conversation later,” Lord Umber's grumbles could be heard as he walked out quickly after bowing to you, leaving the two of you alone in the Great Hall.

 As you walked towards Cregan, he could feel a blush starting on his cheeks. 

“My lady.”

Cregan noticed a glint of amusement in your eyes as you spoke, it was almost a purr.

“Lord Cregan,” You raised an eyebrow, smirking, “I am not your lady, I am your princess.”

Cregan’s face turned redder, looking down for a second as if ashamed. “You are right, my princess. I have never before seen the princess of the realm and I was momentarily taken aback, forgetting your station,” He gulped, “I ask for your forgiveness, your highness.”

You chuckled, delighted. “Do not worry, my lord, we all make mistakes.” 

He looked at you in awe, he never had seen a woman as beautiful as you, especially in this land of wolves. He felt like he was being pulled towards you as if he was a moth and you were the flame, taking steps towards you.

“Nice meeting you, Warden Stark.” You could tell he was nervous, hiding his shaky hands behind his back, standing straight.

He nodded, almost a bow, “What’s the Princess of Dragonstone doing in Winterfell if I may ask? It is rare to see a noble of the south in this frozen land, even rarer the Crown’s Princess.” 

You chuckled softly, and Cregan couldn't feel more attracted to you now as he continued, “Is this an official visit? or did you just wake up with a desire to see my homeland?”

“A little of both,” Cregan raised an eyebrow at you, “I came on dragon back,”

He looks at you with a mix of awe and fear. Dragons have not been seen in the North for a long time, so the mere mention of one is enough to make him worry slightly. “Did you fly all the way here alone, princess? Or is there an entourage of guards, servants, and courtiers that I need to prepare for? I would not presume to let you see one of the great houses of the North without a proper welcoming, even if you are visiting unannounced.”

This made you giggle, and Cregan’s face kept getting warmer with each second passing. “I am alone, my lord.”

Cregan bowed, trying to hide his warm cheeks and of course, showing respect for your station and your valor for traveling alone in the frozen wastes of the North. 

He straightened his back and looked into your lilac eyes, breathing softly trying to not get lost in them, “What would you wish to do here, my princess? I could arrange a meal, or a bath to warm up from the freezing weather? Or maybe you would like to talk?”

“A bath would be nice, my lord.” You gave him a wolfish grin, looking him up and down and making him gulp at the sight.

“I will have one prepared for you immediately.” Cregan walked towards the doors, calling a servant to get your bath ready as soon as possible in the guest chambers near his own, he turned around to talk to you but found you were walking around the room, intently watching the tapestries and paintings.

He watched you do this for a few minutes until a servant came back to inform him the bath was ready in the guest chambers, he came out of his trance watching you.

“My princess, the bath is ready for you,” You turned around grinning mischievously, “Is there anything else that I can do for you now? Anything at all?”

Cregan would learn a few seconds later that his words would turn against him.

“Perhaps you could join me?”

A wave of crimson washed over Cregan’s face, and you could see how your words were making sense in his head. What were you trying on him? Was the offer even real or just teasing on your part? He watched you with his jaw slightly dropped trying to think of a proper answer for you, the temptation was certainly great… to see a princess like that, to see you all bare, he could feel himself getting harder at the thought of your naked body, but… what will others think? You came to Winterfell alone, what could happen if others find out he was in your chambers all alone? The temptation was too great to resist it.

“Is this something you truly want, your highness?” Cregan swallowed, taking another step toward you, “Or am I being an object of teasing?”

You grinned widely, taking a step to meet him halfway putting a hand on his wide chest, “My lord, you know how stunning you are?”

Cregan couldn't spit the words out, too occupied focusing on the hand on his chest.

“I am very thankful for your hospitality, my lord,” His gaze fell into your wolfish grin and intense stare, “So I am extending an invitation of my own if you want it.”

*

Cregan found himself in your chambers, mad at himself for his weak resolve against the Targaryen temptress. 

But all those feelings went away the moment you locked the door after entering the room behind him. 

The bathtub in the middle of the room was big enough for two people, that was out of the question and Cregan wondered if the servants did this on purpose. You walked towards the bed near the fireplace, taking your fur cloak off and leaving it carefully on the mattress.

“Is this room to your liking, my princess?” Cregan said, watching you subtly.

“It is,” You nodded, slowly untying your dress, “Could you help me, my lord?” You turned around, watching him over your shoulder with a playful smile. “This dress is hard to take off on my own.”

Of fucking course.

Cregan made his way over you, his rough hands carefully untying the complicated part of your dress on your back. You could feel his fingers tracing your shoulder blade, now exposed to the warm air of the room thanks to the fireplace. “I can never take this off without my lady-in-waiting’s help.” You giggled, still watching him over your shoulder.

Cregan shook his head, amused by the fact you were gonna need help to take this off in any case, thankful it was him this time. He waited for you to move first, removing his hands gently.

He took a step backward, “You may undress as you wish, my princess. It would be rude of me to stare while you are getting in and out of the tub.” You turned around to face him, your dress falling off your shoulders as he spoke, “I will keep my eyes lowered.”

Cregan’s gaze fell to the ground, his hands again behind his back, anxiously playing with his thumb.

“My lord.” You purred, “I don’t mind, you can look if you wish.”

He splutters, his gaze still glued down to the floor, shocked by your words but his traitorous eyes wander back to your figure, he gasps when he sees how your dress is no longer on your shoulders, now hanging low on your waist and your chest bare.

“M-my princess… this is not appropriate…” He exhales shakily, his eyes glued to your chest not able to look away now.

You roll your eyes, chuckling softly, “I don’t mind, my lord, I am not ashamed of my body.”

Cregan’s jaw drops, your words sending shivers to his spine, and his uniform pants getting tighter. You have the confidence of a queen and beauty to match it.

“Then allow me,” He takes a look up and down at your form as you continue to remove your garments. 

“Like what you see, pup?” 

Your words make Cregan freeze on his spot near the bathtub, his eyes roaming crazily over your body, now fully bare to him. You walk towards him, stepping slowly on the hot water until it’s reaching your thighs.

“Words cannot describe what I’m feeling, your highness.” He exhales shakily, “I am merely a northern wolf awed by a dragon’s beauty and power.”

You chuckle, sitting down on the tub, the water reaching your breasts, “You flatter me, pup.”

He looks at you stunned, you seem unbothered by the scalding hot water as you sit looking at him expectantly. He has no words to describe what’s going on inside his head, the Crown’s Princess is bathing in front of the Warden of the North as if there were no one else in the world, he's only able to stare at you in awe, his eyes shining with a glint of lust.

He stumbles on his next words, “W-what should I do now, your highness?”

“Join me.” 

He only can nod and starts to remove his clothes immediately, showing no humility or shame at being naked in front of the princess, your confident self giving him confidence.

He realizes what he's about to do, “You’re not offended by my nakedness?”

You raise an eyebrow at him, amused, “Why would I be offended? You’re beautiful.”

Men are rarely complimented by their beauty, something Cregan doesn't experience as much, and you can tell this by the way his face lits up and blushes hard, turning away from your amused gaze and feeling slightly bashful.

He takes a deep breath and steps into the bathtub, the water is almost too hot for his liking but he seats behind you without any complaints. He is facing your back and he has to stop himself from reaching out and touching you.

“Shall I wash you, my princess? Or shall I merely enjoy the view?” The moments those words left his mouth his face was plagued by a crimson blush, not believing that he could mutter that out loud.

He heard you chuckle, turning your head to the side but not all the way so he could appreciate your side profile as you spoke, “Whatever you want,” 

He scooted closer to you, keeping all his lower body and his not-that-hard (a lie) cock away from your ass. Still half in disbelief, the princess herself telling him to do whatever he wanted? He was an ambitious man, but started on the base of his wants, not wanting to scare you off. He reach out and ran his hands through your white hair, slowly washing it and once in a while touching your neck.

Your skin felt impossibly soft in his rough palms, and your scent was enough to send him far far away. He felt his heart racing, threatening with escaping his rib cage, he couldn’t believe you were there in front of him, a Targaryen princess, naked and inviting.

As he softly caresses your neck, you throw your head back enjoying the feeling of him touching your skin. His hands softly untangle your wet hair, and it surprises him when you let out a low moan when he accidentally pulled your hair.

“Oh,” Cregan could feel the heat rising to his face, and of course, his cock twitching.

Being this close to you was making him lose all his composure, but he did his best as his hands traveled to your shoulders from your hair, massaging them gently as you nudged back, encouraging him to continue.

“Shall… shall I move further down, my princess?” 

He could physically feel your laugh against his hands, sending shivers down his spine. 

“Yes.”

His hands moved along your shoulders, past your neck, and down to your upper back softly touching and caressing the path downwards your back. He can hear you sigh quietly, his hands coming back to your shoulder blades and slowly moving to your sides, just below your arms, both of his index fingers just barely brushing your breasts.

He stops, his hands still. “May I, your highness? I would never want to do something without your consent.”

You turn your head over your shoulder, watching him from the corner of your eye. “Go on, pup.”

His hands reach your chest, and he scoots closer, his (now) hard cock a few inches away from your ass. He warily cups your breasts, squeezing them gently as his fingers pinch your nipples, making them pebble.

You let out a whimper, shivering at the touch of his rough and big hands on your tits.

“Does this... please you, your highness? My hands on your perfect skin?” He cannot stop himself now, words spilling out his mouth as they didn’t before, his hands wandering around and playing with your chest.

“Yes, you’re doing such a good job, pup.” He blushes deeply but doesn't stop.

He’s still in disbelief, not entirely believing the situation happening in front of his eyes. The princess of Dragonstone telling him how good he's being for her? It is too much to comprehend, you’re so above him in any situation, but there you are, praising and wanting him to touch you.

“You want me to continue, my princess?” 

You nod, “Go further,”

His heart starts to pound harder in his chest, like a war drum, but he continues to do as you say. One hand stays playing with your breast, stroking your nipple, and the other travels downwards through your belly.

“Like this?” He whispers in your ear, and you can feel his hot breath on the back of your neck.

You surprise him again by scooting back, your ass against his hardened length, he gasps, the plump of your ass touching his cock making him lose his vision for a second, not expecting it at all.

“Just like that,” Your words send chills down his spine, is he really about to do this with a princess? Is he really worthy of that? He swallows deeply, his mouth now dry, but his mind is made up. He wants you, and if you’re allowing him to do this, he won't complain at all.

“As you wish, my princess. How far would you like me to continue?” 

“As far as you wish, pup.”

Your words leave him breathless, but he obliges. 

Cregan’s hand on your belly travels further down, carefully to not overstep your boundaries but decided to resume his wandering on your body as his cock presses against your ass. His eyes are glued to the back of your neck, his touch is hesitant at first but your permission makes him feel bold, so he presses his one hand down further and the other squeezes your breast.

“Go on, pup,” You whisper, leaning your head back and resting it on his shoulder as his mouth grazes your neck towards your throat, breathing heavily, “You know what to do.”

He chuckles, but it comes out as a shaky breath. He knows exactly what to do.

His fingers slowly make their way down to your cunt, two digits slowly reaching your clit hovering over it, and moving down to your folds, feeling how you shiver.

You exhale shakily, leaning even more against his body, “Please.”

Cregan’s resolve breaks, blushing as he continues his ministrations, teasing your clit with his palm and fingers grazing your folds, rubbing them. 

He’s so immersed in his teasing he doesn't notice when your soft hand grabs his, pushing it down towards your pussy hard. “I don’t like being teased, do your work.”

Your words drive him into a frenzy, immediately obeying and pushing two fingers into your cunt, hearing you moan. His hand on your breast leaves to support what the other one is doing, moving his fingers in a circular motion on your clit as the other fingers you.

You throw your head back into his shoulder harshly, groaning. “Don’t stop, pup.”

Cregan grinds himself against your ass as he thrusts into you, fingers deep into your pussy. Your breath starts to get labored and your shoulders begin to shake, he starts going faster, more vigorously as he hears your little whimpers with his name mixed into your chants.

“You’re doing so good for me, pup,” He grins proudly, his cock twitching at the breathy praise that falls from your lips, grinding harder against your ass.

Cregan makes you reach your peak after he pinches your clit and his long rough fingers thrust into you, shaking slightly as he holds you in place.

He’s still rock hard against your ass, and after a few moments to come back to yourself, you turn around to face him, your tits against his chest as you straddle his lap, not caring at all how the water splashes outside the tub.

Cregan’s cock is a sight, long and with a thickness it makes your mouth water. He watches you as you move around him until you grab his shaft making his dick brush your folds as you accommodate, the tip teasing on your hole.

“I want you, do you want me?”

He thinks that’s the dumbest question he's ever heard in his twenty-one years of life.

“Hell yes, my princess.”

You give him a wolfish grin as you sink into his length mercilessly in one go, your tight hole wrapping his cock in a warm embrace he can only answer by groaning loudly, his hands flying to your hips to help you steady yourself.

“You’re so tight, seven hells… my goddess, you’re so beautiful.” Your mouth parted at the sensation of his cock splitting you in two, combined with his praise, it’s enough encouragement to start riding him, water splashing everywhere.

His voice starts coming out as incoherences, between praises and swearing on how tight you are, and how your cunt was made for him, his mouth latching at your breast biting it and marking the sides when he can no longer say coherent words. You ride him hard and roughly, so it’s not a surprise when he spills inside your pussy and you follow him behind quickly with a second orgasm when he moves his hand down to rub your clit.

He hugs you as you both breathe heavily, trying to compose yourselves.

Your hand reaches his face, cupping his cheek as he looks into your lilac eyes like a puppy.

“You did so well, you’re not getting rid of me now.”

He beams at the praise, hugging you tightly, pressing your body against his with him still inside you, getting softer. “It is my pleasure to please you, my princess.”

vermithorn © do not copy, repost or translate my works

#tvrgvryen #cregan stark x fem reader #cregan stark x reader #cregan x reader #cregan stark fanfic #cregan stark #cregan x y/n #cregan stark x you #cregan stark smut #cregan stark x y/n #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd smut #hotd #hotd x y/n #hotd x you #house of the dragon #fanfic #house targaryen #smut #fanfic smut

[pastrydragon]

The BG3 Beef I wanna see shitpost

While I do love the idea of Tav/Astarion/Karlach/whoever getting more unique mean dialogue with Ulder Ravengard, especially when he has the audacity to take up space in your camp like that instead of someone cooler like Barcus or that one bullied hyena, I want very specific flavor text that you'd only get in the epilogue party if you pick a specific ending even more.

I think if you romance Wyll as Gale or Gale as Wyll and then you don't go to Avernus, I think it would be totally galaxy brain to have dialogue in the epilogue that reveals Ulder Ravengard and Morena Dekarios fucking DESPISE one another. Because they absolutely would.

We never get to meet Morena in game but you can tell from what Gale and Tara say about her and Gale's... Galeness that she is at least a part time passenger on the "Fuck you my child is fine" train. Her sweet little boy? Commit evil deeds? Never! There has obviously been a mistake. I mean she indulged that "Gale Of Waterdeep" nonsense and when Gale summoned a full on Tressym after being explicitly denied a kitten as a child, she just let him keep her. No repercussions.

And then her sweet boy brings home another sweet boy who is probably EXACTLY what she pictured Gale's partner should be like.(Because Wyll is the damn blueprint for "Guy you could bring home to mom") Wyll is ridiculously sweet to Gale, he's the perfect gentleman, he's very open to the idea of giving Morena the grandchildren she's been nagging Gale about in the very near future. Pinch her, she must be dreaming!

I cannot imagine her reacting to Wyll's backstory with any amount of empathy towards Ulder, obviously that man is a cruel psychopath to throw poor Wyll out like that after "a tiny misunderstanding" and Wyll is just too good of a son not to see it. Which is partially true, Wyll is definitely still in some kind of denial stage over what his father did but that's not the point of the post.

Then there's Ulder who probably thinks Gale is... Fine. He's not someone he ever would have pictured for Wyll. Gale is a babbling oddball, he has chronic foot-in-mouth disease and has only ever met the pointy end of a sword. But he can't say anything because Gale saved him, his son, and Bulder's gate, and a small army of tieflings, and apparently a bunch of mushroom people and blah blah more reasons he can never have the moral high ground blah. He's undeniably stuck with this fucking wizard, and his nightmare of a mother.

Morena firmly believes that since the Ravengard manor is technically Wyll's now, then it's also Gale's and thus is now hers as well. When I say she would walk through the doors like she owned the place I mean it very literally. Where did Ulder's old helmet display go? "They were rusty and it was ruining the wooden shelves, besides these enchanted swords go better with the new drapes we had to get, I don't know how you didn't notice how moth eaten they were getting." Everyday he wakes up and something about his own damn home has been changed to make it look more like a wizard tower. She doesn't even live here most of the time!

And it doesn't stop there, not at all. No this women has to make sure his son doesn't live there full time either. Every holiday and birthday she has to send Gale a letter about how much she misses him and you should visit so you can take a break from all that(Very important!) work and how she already has the venison just for Wyll.

And every time he's forced to interact with this harpy she looks at him with a sweet smile on her face, honey in her voice and the burning hatred of a thousand suns in her eyes then somehow managed to insult him five times in one sentence without ever explicitly insulting him. This women is a devil from Avernus sent to punish him for his sins and she's even won over the grandkids. Obviously that women is a manipulative psychopath for using her control over Gale to manipulate his son. Which, yeah Gale not being able to say no to his mom has contributed greatly to this and if Wyll knew what healthy boundaries looked like he probably wouldn't have put up with it but he doesn't so here we are.

Let these two be the Tom and Jerry style B plot to BG4 is what I'm saying.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #wyll ravengard #bg3 wyll #ulder ravengard #morena dekarios #gale x wyll #I don't know their ship name #I only ship it for the family drama #Astarion can also fill this role as Wyll's SO but this is funnier to me #bladeweave #thank you dromaeocore for telling me!

[lady-lauren]

Apotheosis

↬ Pairing: Erwin Smith x Fem!Reader

↬ Rating: Explicit, 18+ Only

↬ Word Count: 2.3k

↬ Warnings/Tags: breeding, talk of pregnancy, dacryphilia/tears, possessive actions, power dynamic/age gap, cum eating, excessive cum/creampie

↬ A/N: It’s been a while since I showed love to my favorite man 💕 Apotheosis: the highest point in the development of something; culmination or climax.

Tears are expected in Erwin’s world. Fat, emotional tears upon the loss of a comrade, tears of frustration at the end of a failed mission, cries of agony of a population ravaged by fear and unrest. 

But he could drown in your tears, feast on them like waters from the heavens. You’re pretty when you cry, delicate and overwhelmed, all from him and him alone. His actions, his words, his pleasure and pain.

“Take it, darling, all of it.” 

You’re barely undressed, tits spilling from the torn buttons of your uniform, leather straps of your gear pressing into the fat of your thighs as the fabric of your pants struggles at the spread of your legs. 

“C-Commander, I, please, I—” nonsense, it’s all nonsense as he flattens you against his desk, cockhead spearing through the unprepared, yet dripping folds of your cunt. 

It’s been weeks since he’s seen you. He has no patience left to spare. 

Erwin breaches the first ring of muscle into your depths, hissing through his teeth as he feels your pussy suck around him. 

He can’t even remember if he locked the door to his office before he pounced on you, his favorite little cadet. 

“Good girl,” he coos, thumbs smoothing over your ass as he bullies his way inside of you. You choke below him, sucking in air at the intrusion. 

It’s all too much, the burning spread of your cunt and the way he presses your aching breasts against the crumpled papers, fingertips mean and eager against your hips. But he adores when you get overwhelmed, gasping like you haven’t taken his cock countless times before. 

“I’ve been thinking of you,” he grunts as he bottoms out inside of you, your ass slapping against his pelvic bone, belly quivering as his cockhead brushes against the most sensitive parts of you. “I’m going to cum inside of you, darling, fill you to the fucking brim with me.” 

“Oh god,” you whine, wiggling against his hold as you come to terms with the full stretch of his length. His veins are throbbing inside of you, pulsing against your walls. He doesn’t give you the time you deserve to adjust, instead using your flesh like a toy and bouncing you back and forth on his cock. 

“I–we–I-I can’t have…we shouldn’t…” you moan and writhe below him, asschecks bouncing with every sharp thrust. 

The vision of you pledging your oath to the nation, to him, is crisp in his memory. Your fist over your chest, eyes gazing up at him from the second row of fresh cadets. He’d noticed your faith then, felt drawn to you like a moth racing toward a funeral pyre. 

He’s let himself be consumed by your dark flames, let dreams of you belonging to him, only to him, fill waking thoughts. 

“You don’t want my babies, darling? Is that it?” 

The sound that drips from your throat is sinful, longing, like his words have speared through your heart and ripped tender emotions. 

A heavy hand runs the length of your spine, stopping at the base of your neck to press you down harder, keeping you trapped below his strength. 

“Y-yes, Erwin, I–fuck, but we can’t,” your tone lingers on your opposing declaration, brave but lost. You mean it, but you don’t. 

Leaning forward, Erwin drops his lips to your ear, slowing his pace to a grind into your cunt. 

“Your pussy is desperate for me, I can feel it—you want to milk my cock, want me to fill your insides with my cum.” 

Your nails scrape at the wood in his desk, leaving lines in their wake. Your bodies are heady, sweat bleeding into cotton and leather straps catching against the press of his thighs to yours. 

“Let me tell you what I think about, darling,” he whispers wickedly, hand slipping between the press of your stomach into the edge of his desk. He is brutal with the remainder of your shirt, ripping threads and snapping buttons as he claws his way to your skin. 

“I think of you ripe with my child, my seed growing inside of this strong, perfect body. I imagine you glowing, flushed with hormones and proud at the mention that your child is mine. That I came in your body, took you, bred you.” 

Perhaps he’s being purposely crass—he wants a reaction from you, wants to feel your emotions bubble over and spill at his feet.

“Oh fuck,” you squeak below him as he continues to press into you, his cock hot and angry, his weight heavy upon your back. “I want that, god fuck I want your babies, b-but it’s so…” your thoughts trail away as the mental image becomes too much to handle—you, pregnant and showing, growing the Commander’s child in your womb. 

Erwin relents, pulling his aching cock from your cunt. He smooths his hands over your body, warm and affectionate, coddling you as he repositions to have you face him. 

“It’s too much…” your voice is soft, eyes blinking away the treacherous emotions that have settled into your psyche. 

“Look at me.” 

He says your first name as he pets your cheek, the taste of the syllables like sin on his tongue. 

“I want you,” he asserts, latching his lips to yours to prove his point, “more than you'll ever know, darling. You’re mine. You always have been.” 

He plucked you away from the Military Police the moment he laid eyes on you; requested a direct transfer to have you working below him, for him. Then he got inside of you, felt every raw desire and built an unwavering trust. Every time he’s fucked you, he’s been discreet, kept you away from prying eyes. Now he wants all eyes on you, on him, on how he’s taken you. 

Gently, he peels the tatters of your shirt from your breasts, placing hot, long licks along your nipples. You buck against him, brave hands tangling in his hair and pulling at the roots.

Taking his time with you almost feels foreign. Every fuck has been to satisfy the obession inside of him, a whirlwind of potent feelings and lust. Claiming you in the dark, a palm over your mouth, his fingers on your tongue and in your cunt.

Now he kneels before you, experienced hands unbuckling the worn scout leathers from your thighs, kissing at the grooves left behind in your tender skin. 

You awaken the most primal of needs inside of him—to have, to claim, to breed. 

The lines of his roman nose disappear between your legs, skimming along the folds of your pussy as he licks along your slit. 

“Erwin, please…” Naked, you sigh with the utmost content, head tilting back as you fall prey to all the emotions swirling in your gut.

“Please what, darling? Use your words, tell me what you want.” 

Gazing from between your thighs on his cheekbones, your slick on his tongue, his cock throbs against his pants as he watches the faintest of tears pool on the apples of your cheeks. 

He loves ruining you, overloading you with so much passion that it becomes visible. 

“Breed me. I want to feel you cum inside of me.” 

“Are you sure you’re prepared for this?” He rises to loom over you, tugging your body against his, his clothes sticking to your soft, dewy skin. “I will fill you until you can take no more, fuck you as many times as it takes to breed you properly.” 

Pupils dilated and dark, you nood, fisting your fingers around the leather strap that clings to his pectorals. 

“Please…make me yours, all yours.” 

Erwin slots between your plush thighs, golden hair falling against his brow as he shoves his cock back into your depths, groaning at the feel of you spreading for him. 

His size is to his advantage as he consumes you, bucking hips and bouncing you along his shaft. The boldness inside of you is growing, he can feel it in the way you move against him—hungry, greedy, eager to take everything he can give. 

A hand grips meanly into your thigh, while the other traces up your back, coming to rest on your jaw, keeping your gaze smoldering into his. He moves ruthlessly inside you, hips snapping against yours with every sharp, deep thrust. Little sounds leave your lips with every plunge, blissful tingles stemming from where your bodies were conjoined. He adores how he can feel the head of his fat cock dragging along your tight walls, thick veins throbbing under silken skin.

A coil of pleasure begins to tighten within his lower stomach, boiling in his balls, hot and mean, like it is ready to tear and erupt with a rush of ecstasy. You moan his name like a prayer, eyes closed tightly as you focus on the intensity of his cock thrusting inside you.

“Everyone will know,” he murmurs against your wet lips, stealing your breath, “your babies will look just like me.” 

He knows how to play you, circling your clit so perfectly with his thumb that you’re already shaking. Your lower belly clenches, all the euphoria rushing to your head and making you feel drunk.

 “God you get so fucking tight,” Erwin grunts at the feel, starting the kind of brutal pace that told you he was already aiming for the finish line, ready to fill you up and watch you drip just so he could do it all over again. 

Everything is burning, like a warm, wet glow between your legs, filled to the brim with him. You gasp and moan, little sounds you just can’t help, too overwhelmed. He stretches you so wide that you feel breathless, tears leaking down from the corners of your eyes. 

“Good girl, let it all out. I’ll take care of you, promise.”

“G-gonna cum, Erwin, fuck…”

“Me too.”

His hips still for a moment so you can both feel the way his cock pulses, forcing his seed deep into your womb. The heat breaks you along with his thumb on your clit, making you cry into his chest as you fall over the edge. Your pussy is a milking compression around him, squeezing every last drop of his cum. There’s too much to keep in, hot seed dribbles out over your pussy and around his cock to paint the inside of your thighs and make a mess against his desk. 

But he doesn’t stop. 

His cock is still hard and twitching inside of you, fat and heavy as he starts to push back deeper into you. Your head dips forward against his shoulder, one of his hands holding your neck while the other splays across your belly before moving lower. Two fingers slide along the folds of your cunt, spreading around his intrusive cock so he can feel his leaking cum. 

“Feels so good,” you mumble, “your cum feels so fucking good.” 

Erwin groans, lifting his messy fingers to your agape mouth. You take them in without question, sucking at the taste of cum and slick pooling against your tongue. He keeps your mouth stuffed with the digits, allowing you to scream around them as he picks up his pace.

He’s a man determined, sight sets on a goal. He promised to breed you, and he will. No matter how many batches of cum it takes for his seed to take hold. 

The squish of his cum spurting with every thrust is mesmerizing, breathtaking, and he can’t help but marvel at the sight of his pretty little girl taking in his cum. You’re a mess, streaked with tears and cum, spit dripping down your chin as you choke around his cum stained fingers.

Erwin removes his fingers from between your lips, angling you back so he can watch your tits bounce with every plunge of his cock. Brushing wet knuckles over your breast, he tugs on your nipple until you mewl. 

“C-Commander,” he’ll never tire of hearing his title in your mouth, “I want more.” 

“More what, darling? Tell me.” 

“More cum, god, fuck I want to drown in it.” 

In the back of his mind, Erwin is distinctly aware of sounds outside of his office door, shuffling feet and whispers. But nothing could stop him, not even God Himself could bust into the room and remove Erwin from you. He has you where he’s always wanted you—panting, weeping, begging for him to breed you, to keep you. 

He tugs you against him, using you like a little cocksleeve made to suck his cock dry. 

“One more,” he groans, “give me one more, darling. Let me feel you cum for me.”

You nod like you have any choice, pulling your thighs up farther so you can lay flat against his desk and take his onslaught. 

Long fingers circle back to your puffy clit, rolling the tender bud until you can no longer keep quiet. The feel of you is electric, spiraling, pussy spasming against him, slick gushing with every crest of pleasure that comes over your body. Your climax has you splitting apart, and also sucking him in so deeply that he can't help but to pour his load into you.

Erwin finally pulls his still throbbing cock from your cunt. You are ruined, the tightening of your belly in the aftershocks of your orgasm making cum continuously bubble out of your hole, drooling onto the edge of the desk and into his floor.

“You look so perfect covered in my cum.”

Erwin’s fingers are quickly back between your legs, making you whine as his fingertips glide over your swollen clit. He trails his fingers down your thighs, gathering what cum is still traveling down your legs. He pushes the lost cum back inside of you, making your back arch at the oversensitive feeling. Over and over again, he repeats the motion, taking his time to gather every viscous droplet and push it back into your quivering cunt.

“I expect you to meet me in my room tonight, understood?” 

“Of course, sir.” 

#erwin smut #erwin x reader #erwin smith #tw:breeding #aot erwin #erwin smith smut #aot x reader #aot smut #attack on titan #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith x you #erwin x y/n #erwin x you

[ifonlyyuweremine]

Tough Love

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Smut with a plot nobody asked for.

Overview || Older man König being a dick but we’re trynna get that dick.

(Warnings) Smut, Age gap, soft sex, degradation?, poorly written, praise, size diff, bad grammar, daddy issues if you squint, crying, p in v, power imbalance, mirrors, desperation, covenant plot, semi-public sex, fingering, oral.

I don't know how many words it's just long. 18+

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Being in the military wasn’t easy; nobody had ever said it was. Long, grueling work hours, fixing trucks and tanks you didn’t even know how to operate.

Sleepless nights that left you catching sleep anywhere you could. Training that left your body sore and numb. Yet one man made your life in the force more complicated than necessary. Your Colonel was a man who haunted both your dreams and your hours in the daylight. Putting you through training that exceeded your limits.

He was pushing you to the brim of what you could achieve as a human. He was like a moth drawn to a flame, eyes trained on you. Always you. His rank kept an iron grip on your tongue; never had you wanted to curse out an officer like you did him. He was constantly muttering something in German around you, his voice a low-pitched grunt.

Not only was his training enough to make anyone shiver, but his size alone provoked a kind of unease. The closest thing to a superhuman that you’d ever seen; the fear of him keeping your lips sealed, making you swallow your words and follow his orders like a dog. After all, what was a couple more laps, sets, or chores compared to the punishments he could put you through?

Yet at the same time he ignited a fire inside you, one that bellowed deep within your stomach. Twisting and turning your organs with each step he took. As much as you despised him your subconscious mind had other ideas, ideas buried inside dreams, haunting your nights with his touch.

Rough calloused hands grazing on your skin, wedging between your legs. Breathy groans of relief flooding the shell of your ear. And god, his eyes. His eyes; oh how they would look at you, clouded over like perspiration on a window. Eyebrows knit together in pleasure, your hands cupping his face; tactile touch along his stubble and jaw.

You couldn’t stand it, waking up from those fantasia. Legs tangled inside the sheets of your bed, your chest heaving, and a burning feeling spread across your cheeks and down to your thighs.

Only for you to be torn apart from those fantasies of your Colonel into the harsh realities of daylight. However like all things, this was temporary was it not? A silly little fantasy blooming from your own masochism. It was bound to end.

Right?

————————————————————————

The gym was a good place to blow off steam, and so was the punching bag. A large sack of metal wrapped up in fabric just for your temper. Or lack thereof, holding everything in until it bubbles to the surface only to be released in quick bursts of energy.

Even if it was public and people could see you in all your glory, sweaty, gassed, and irritable. It didn't hinder your fists, rhythmically contacting with the rough, bright red fabric of the bag. Today was a better day; hardly anyone was there. They were keeping to themselves and then wandering back to their barrack. You stayed put. Immersing yourself in the numbness of your spent body.

It had been a collective of instances that had put you here. Firstly a rough start to th morning when you had split the mediocre breakfast onto yourself. Secondly after you had cleaned up there wasn’t much time left before drill runs so you opted out of eating. Big mistake.

People always say breakfast is the most important meal of the day; however, they say it because they mean it. You were irritable and tired, an incessant growling and podding of your stomach for everyone to hear. Your dill instructor also just so happened to be Colonel König. It was almost comical like the universe played an elaborate joke on you. And König being well, König made sure not to go easy on the drills. For being in the military and a colonel at that, he never yelled. He didn't need to, though; his normal voice was enough to command and make your blood run cold.

He eyed you down every step of the way through your drills. His cold blue eyes drilled into your own, and when that was all you could see of his face, make no mistake that those eyes didn't leave you even when he looked away.

You saw those eyes everywhere. His gaze clung to your psyche like sap from a tree. However, they were never as soft in the waking world. You preferred looking at him in your dreams; a spark of life that you couldn't see now when you looked at him.

After exhausting yourself with drills he pulled you aside, crossing his arms and looking down at you. His presence no less menacing than the day before.

“You are cutting back on training.”

It was direct, and straight to the point. Not like you expected anything else. You bit your tongue, “I've been present for each drill Colonel.” You replied plainly, keeping your voice flat.

“Then why are you struggling? Kleines mädchen (little girl), if you are keeping up with your other drill sergeants, you should be able to keep up with me, no?”

His accent rang in your ears, thick inflections rolling off his raspy voice. You swallowed, looking up at him, craning your neck to meet his icy gaze. “I don't know, Colonel, I'm trying, Sir. Believe me, I am.” You breathe, holding back a slew of profanities and excuses you knew he wouldn't accept behind your tongue.

He chuckled, cold and dry like his words. Eyes narrowing in on you, “You don't know?” he clicked his tongue, each one echoing through your eardrum.

“Das ist nicht gut (that is no good), [name] I train soldiers. Not fragile little mice. I know you are a capable young woman. So next time you come here, you train like a soldier. Is that acceptable, maus (mouse)?”

His words made your blood boil, and pursing your lips together you nodded. You nodded like a good soldier, “Yes Colonel.”

His eyes crinkled a little, not as if he was smiling but as if he was smirking. “Good. You're dismissed.” He murmured. You couldn't help how your eye twitched and your jaw clenched. Something that the giant man didn't miss.

You winced, repeatedly striking a metal bag for hours did end up coming back to bite you in the ass. Stepping back for a breath, the sound of your heavy breathing was the only sound you could hear besides the incessant ringing in your head. Running a hand through your hair, your scalp sweaty. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, you never understood how easily König got under your skin. His words cut deep, and it ignited something. A need to please.

You wanted him to like you, you wanted his snide comments and belittling remarks to stop. You wanted his praise, his pride, his approval. And you hated that you wanted it.

Everyone else seemed to like you, so why couldn't he? Why couldn't he see you were trying? How hard you had worked?

You punched the bag again and again. You grunted each time your fist hit the fabric. Wishing it was him, his body, his face, his eyes. You couldn't hear and couldn't think, wanting to dull your senses until you were dumbed down enough that you forgot what you were angry about.

“Enjoying yourself?”

You jumped a little, stumbling forward and looking over your shoulder. The hairs on the back of your stood up. You knew the voice, the rasp, the accent. Königs large figure met your eye, looming behind you like a statue. You panted.

“What?” You looked at him quizically, your body frozen like a deer in headlights.

He chuckled, walking closer to you. “You can punch that bag with such rigor yet you fall short during my drills.”

You breathed, an airy silence filled the open room. You could feel your heart beating, a soft thumping that filled the silence of the now empty gym. König didn’t wait for you to respond.

“Your stance is off; you’ll hurt your back and hands if you punch like that dummes mädchen (silly girl).” He hummed casually.

You blinked; it was this again. Your eyes narrowed up at him, your posture straightening. “Thanks, Colonel, but I don't want your input.” You breathe, feeling a sudden tension strike between you and the large man in front of you.

König shrugged, his gaze never leaving your eye. His stare was almost cockly, arrogant. Like he knew he made your skin crawl. If only he knew how much he made your skin crawl. “I was not inputting on your stance, I'm telling you that it's bad. And that you're going to fix it.” He said calmly.

You tensed a little. Was this man serious? You didn't know if one man could have a more significant power trip than he did. You bit your tongue, something you felt you did frequently when he was around you.

“Turn around.”

You obeyed. The quicker you get this over with, the better. Or maybe someone would walk into the gym to take König away. You could only hope as you turned around to face the punching bag, raising your arms to a stance.

The hairs on your neck stood as you felt a warm body press against your back. You felt it, his warmth, his breathing, his gear; it ignited something. That familiar low buzz from your lower body. Like vibrating a strange frequency between comfortability and unease. A large hand rested on the small of your back, pushing lightly, making your stomach turn.

“You're hunched over too much. No wonder you struggle with posture.” He chuckled, low and throaty. You felt the vibrations of his voice against the shell of your ear.

You swallowed, suddenly feeling your throat get dry. The jab at you didn't mean anything anymore with how you felt his large fingertips pressing against your spine. You involuntary arched your back a little, something that he didn't miss.

“Sensibles kleines ding, nicht wahr (sensitive little thing, aren't we)?”

König murmured; it was in German. You only ever caught bits and pieces of his speech. His other hand ghosted over your elbow, raising it. “You also need to raise your arms; it's no good fighting if someone can strike your head.”

You were slowly becoming hyperaware of everything around you. The sound of Königs breathing, his gear pressed against your neck, his hand on the small of your back. You memorized every detail of his touch; for such a large and dickish brute that he was, his touch was gentle.

“I know you despise me maus (mouse), but I am only ever looking out for your best interest.”

You faulted. He knew? You figured that lying wasn't going to do you good because you did despise him. You hated him. And yet you responded to his touch, even more so you leaned into it. You craved it so much that you dreamed of it. “What gave me away huh?” You breathed.

A low rumble came from his throat again. Raising your other arm, “You are… not very good at hiding emotions, ja (yes)? You tense your jaw and fists when you speak to me; I have noticed you bite your tongue a fair bit around me as well.”

Well, he got you there, but König continued. “Out of everyone here, though, you are the hardest to figure out. Even as you wear your emotions on your sleeve.”

You narrowed your eyes in confusion, letting his large hand guide your movements like a doll. “I don't know what you mean,” you asked.

His hand started to ghost down your arm and over to your jaw. König grabbed your face between his thumb and fingers, his large hand gripping your cheek effectively shutting you up. And you let him.

“You seem to hate me more than anyone, yet I can always feel your eyes on me. And the fact is if you hated me as you do, you wouldn't try so hard to improve; you wouldn't seek my approval.” He murmured.

Your stomach twisted into knots, and he held you like putty. Melting in his hands, “So tell me [name], do you want my approval?”

The buzzing continued; it rang in your ears, and it sent waves through your core. Your eyes were wide, and you could feel your heart pumping in your chest. You were like a deer in headlights; Königs grip on your jaw loosened to help you speak. Everything was quiet. The only sound was your heart racking through your ribs.

König was getting impatient with the silence, his other hand grabbing your hip and squeezing.

“Tell me the truth mädchen (girl).”

You nodded slowly. It was as if you were processing your answer as you nodded. Inhaling shakily, “I do.” you murmured.

“You do what [name]?” He corrected, forcing your head up.

“I want your approval.”

There it was, that obedience that he loved oh so much. If you were good at anything, it was following orders. His upper lip curved up. He laughed softly, squeezing your face In his hands. “See? Was that so hard, maus (mouse)?”

You didn't respond, feeling a twinge of shame. Your body was recoiling in on itself. Your lips formed a soft frown, and your eyes faltered as they were forced to meet him.

He caught this and shook his head, clicking his tongue, “No, no, none of that Schatz (Darling), you said you wanted my approval no?”

You nodded, swallowing your pride. “Gut (good), you listen, and you get my praise. So, can you listen liebling (love)?”

You nodded again, feeling a warmth pooling in your stomach, your cheeks reddening. König tightened his grip on your cheek, “Say it.”

“I'll listen, promise.” You manage out.

He smirked, Königs large hand trailing to the front of your abdomen. “Braves mädchen (good girl), I have no doubt you'll be a good listener. You're already an exceptional soldier, aren't you? While stubborn, yes, but you're an obedient little thing.”

Your stomach tightened, his words filling your ear like music. His hand felt warm as it ran along your shirt. He gripped your body and forcefully moved you to the side so the both of you faced the large mirror wall. Your cheeks flushed at seeing yourself in such a state, as well as seeing Konig's large form pressed against your back, staring at you through the mirror.

“Do you know why I am hard on you [name]?”

You thought for a moment, coming up empty-handed with an answer. “No, I don't know.” You breathe. His hand snaking to your belt.

König leaned down a little, his mouth beside the shell of your ear. You could feel his breath against you, and it drove you mad. “I want what's best for you, maus (mouse), but you rely on others too much. So, someone needed to toughen you up, no? It's just tough love engel (angle).”

Your breath hitched as his hand undid your belt. Königs other hand was still holding your face; it was as if time was moving slower. You watched his movements from the mirror's reflection, the way his eyes stared directly at you through the glass. His eyes weren't like in your dreams, but they didn't look like how they usually did either.

They were darker and more concentrated. Königs pupils dilated, and his irises a greyer hue.

“König, there could be someone around Sir-” You were hushed by the feeling of his fingers sliding over your pelvis, trailing against the fabric of your underwear.

He hummed and looked at you through the mirror, “There is no one. Trust me, engel (angel), just stay put and look pretty for me.” König murmured, his lips against your temple covered by his sniper hood. His middle and ring fingers start to move in slow, sultry circles around your covered bud.

You inhaled; it was shaky. Your stomach jumped as his fingers sent feverish currents of electricity through your body. Your thighs tense, and you blushed, trying to look anywhere but in front of you, knowing you would be greeted by the lewd sight of Königs fingers dancing around your panties. Your hand grabbed his arm for support, and he chuckled grabbing your face harder and forcing your jaw and eyes back to the mirror.

“Don't look away. You look away, and I stop,” He rasped. You looked at yourself, practically put on display for your higher officer. Hips jittering forward as the pad of his fingers brushed and circled over your clit.

König smiled and let go of your face, the same hand trailing down to your chest. He grasped your breast, his larger hand squeezing and prodding at it like a stress ball.

“So verdammt hübsch (so fucking pretty),” König put more pressure on his fingers, digging into your bud. Smiling as you whined quietly, “Look at you, so eager. You hate me, but you can't resist letting me play with this perfect cunt of yours.”

You hated that it was true; you hated him, but God did his fingers feel good. A slick spot started to develop around your panties, accompanied by your red face and heavy breathing. You were getting worked up by barely anything, yet it was better than anything you'd ever experienced. And König seemed to pick up on this rather quickly.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Tell me, engel (Angel), tell me, have you ever let a man do this to you?”

You swallowed, watching through the mirror as his fingers slid up and down the fabric of your soaked panties. You shook your head, “No… I've fooled around with other guys, but nobody has ever done…” You trailed off, breath hitching again as his other hand pinches your nipple through the fabric of your clothes.

König hummed, “I figured so; you fool around with little boys liebste (sweetheart), not men. None of them know their way around. They don't know how to please you, do they?”

You whimper as he slips a finger down your panties, the pad of his middle finger coming in contact with your needy clit. Circling it, gathering your arousal with his strokes. You shake your head, looking at yourself. “No- they don't,” you choke out.

You looked like a skank in your mind, submitting so quickly to him—his hand down your underwear and one on your breast.

He smiled, “Good thing I'm not a little boy.”

Suddenly, he slipped one of his fingers into your eager little cunt. You choke out a surprised moan, your voice echoing off the walls of the empty gym. His finger was enormous; it almost hurt. And you shivered at the thought that just one of his fingers stretched you out.

“Scheiße (fuck), such a tight pussy.” He laughed lowly as he lazily drew his finger out and pushed it back in. He drank in how your gummy walls clenched and twitched around him. “M’gonna have to stretch you out.” He chuckled.

You grappled at his arm as he pumped his finger in and out. You squeezed your eyes shut and let out sweet whines and moans. König promptly withdrew his finger and flicked at your bud, causing a sharp pang of both pain and pleasure that shot your eyes open.

“Hey, what did I say? Eyes open while I work this pretty cunt open.” He ordered, and you whined. Your eyes pool with soft tears from the shock.

You nodded, and he slipped his finger back in, gently working in his ring finger. You squeaked, panting as you watched his fingers through the fabric of your panties. “König, s’too big-” you whined.

He shushed you and pressed a masked kiss to your temple, letting his second finger slide entirely in, scissoring you open. “Shh, it's not too big; trust me, engel (Angel), you're just not used to it yet.” He hushed, pumping his two fingers in at a steady pace.

You felt your thighs shaking a little, watching your reflection as he worked you open. König murmured words of praise into your ear as he did so.

“That's it [name], braves mädchen (good girl). Take it; take my fingers. Let me stretch this perfect cunt out.”

You let out a moan, feeling a burning pleasure building in your core. Your hips began to stutter, bucking into his hands. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to muffle your moans and cries of pleasure.

König quickly took your hand away from your mouth, “No, no, don't you dare do that. Let me hear you, engel (Angel), let me hear those pretty fucking moans.”

You felt yourself coming undone, your thighs clamping down. A tightness was blooming in your stomach; you could barely hold yourself up as it was. Almost impaling yourself on Königs fingers.

“König, fuck- I can't, m’gonna cum.” You whimpered, your body tensing up.

At that, he forced his fingers deeper, finding that pillowy spot inside you as he curled his fingers, finding your g-spot. “Go ahead, schatz (darling), come for me. Look at me in that mirror; look at who's making you cum.”

You felt light for a moment, and König watched in satisfaction as your mouth formed that ‘o shape he loved so much.

Your legs quivered as it hit you, crashing down on you like a wave. It was too much, the pads of his fingers digging into your G-spot, his large fingers stretching your cunt out oh so nicely. You screamed, the noise bouncing off the walls. Your head thrown back into Königs chest.

That was the first time a man had made you come on his fingers alone.

You came back down into reality after a couple of long seconds. Almost falling due to your limp legs, luckily König held you up. Withdrawing his fingers from your spent cunt and holding your hips. He chuckled and pressed a kiss through his hood to your ear, neck, and temple.

“So good, took it so well, didn't you?” He whispered you looked messy. Your clothes are messy, and your eyes are glazed with the remanence of that hazy pleasure. Your own slick was dripping down your thighs. 

You teetered in his hands like jello. König looked down at you, “You're almost ready, I would say.”

Looking up at him confused, your eyes furrowed and eyebrows knit together. “Almost?” You repeated. Almost slurring your words.

He nodded, grabbing you by your hips and hoisting you up. Turning you around and walking towards the mirrored wall. “Yes, did you think you'd be ready after just my fingers?” He mused, lifting you so your legs were wrapped around his torso.

You blushed, feeling a little dense. “Well… yes?” You said feeling your back hit the wall.

König let out a throaty laugh, “Engel (Angel), I appreciate your eagerness, but I'm a large man, no? And your cunt could barely take my fingers; what makes you think you could take my cock?”

You looked away sheepishly, “Don't worry, this will feel good too. I'm not withholding anything from you that you need.” König hummed.

He slid off your pants and your dirty underwear, leaving your bottom half barren. Holding you by your thighs and your back pressed against the mirror, he looked at you. “Take off the top, and the bra too.”

You obeyed, sliding off your remaining clothing. After you were barren of your garments, he took you in. “Gott schau dich an (God look at you), the prettiest body I've ever seen” König breathed.

You felt your cheeks burning at his praise, this was wrong. You would be in deep if the both of you got caught, yet that look in his eyes made you crave more of him. Something real, he was real and he was in front of you.

“Promise to hold on ja (yes)? I won’t drop you.” He breathed, you looked at him in confusion.

“Hold on?”

Before you could do anything he hoisted you up again, throwing your thighs over his shoulder. The mirror behind you pressed against your back. You yelped, caught off guard.

You were high up, almost like a game of chicken. Your face burned as you saw your core inches away from his hood. König held you behind and your thighs, keeping you in place. “König, what are you doing?” you squeaked.

He looked up at you, his eyes crinkling. “I thought it was pretty obvious, no? I want my fill, too. Why not make this a pleasurable experience for the both of us?” He hummed, reaching up to his hood and lifting it past his nose.

His lips curved into a smile, a small scar carved into his upper lip. Königs jaw was sharp, peeks of stubble over his chin and jaw, some of it greying at the edges.

The stubble on his face pressed into your thighs, making it tickle. Your breath hitched, and you felt your stomach do a small flip; you could feel his breath on your core, and it made you shiver.

“Scheiße (fuck), can't wait to taste this perfect cunt.”

Before you could protest, he buried his face into your core. König licked a strip down your slit. Making you mewl, your thighs clenching around his head.

Due to your previous activity, you were already soaked. Königs mouth was covered in your arousal; he hummed as he pushed his tongue inside your swollen folds. The vibrations of his voice sent shockwaves through your spine.

You moaned, and your hands shot to his hood, grasping at the material on the top of his head. “Oh, oh fuck,” you whined, throwing your head back into the wall.

It felt too good. The feel of Königs mouth was like heaven; he moaned into your pussy while his fingers dug into the meat of your thighs and behind. He drew up for air before focusing his attention on your needy clit.

Your back arched in surprise, and you gasped out a lewd moan. Your fingers dug into the fabric of his hood as he sucked and pressed open-mouth kisses to your bud of nerves. It was a lot.

Hot tears pooled into the corners of your eyes from overstimulation. Your thighs clasping as his head, you tried to push his head away from your clit, but he was relentless.

König looked at you the entire time, watching eagerly to see each twitch, moan, and tear.

After another minute, he detached from your cunt. His breathing labored, and his chin covered in your slick. He groaned and pressed a kiss to your spent clit. “You taste so good, engel (angel), sweetest pussy I've had.”

You caught your breath, letting out a soft whimper, “don't stop, please.” you whine.

König raised an eyebrow and laughed, “So bedürftig (so needy).” He readjusted himself, making you bounce on his shoulder. He spit on your cunt and plunged his lips back into you. Moaning as his tongue slipped in and out of your clenching hole.

You yelped and whimpered, rolling your hips into his face. As you did, he tightened his hold on your thighs, “Mhfp- yes, just like that liebe (love), roll those pretty hips.” He groaned against your soaked folds.

You could feel that familiar coil tighten in your stomach. Staring to blabber and whine, your thighs fighting around his head.

As soon as König felt that you were on the brink of cumming he pulled his mouth away. You whimpered at the loss, bucking your hips needily at the loss of his touch. Looking down at him with a fucked out expression, eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Why’d you stop?” you whine.

König licked his lips, looking up at you. “Es tut mir leid Liebe (I’m sorry, love), but I can't wait.” He breathed with a grin.

Quickly, he grabbed your thighs and hoisted you down until you were even with him. He was holding your butt with one hand and unbuckling his belt with the other.

You didn't have the heart to complain at the loss of his mouth when you knew his cock was waiting.

König managed to unzip his pants and then pull down his boxers, taking his length into his hand. You swallowed.

It was big; he wasn't kidding when he said you needed that prep. Your eyes were locked on his hard cock pulsing in his hand. It had to be at least seven inches, maybe eight. The reddened mushroom tip was sticky with his precum. Your eyes trailed down, watching the vein that ran down to the base of his pelvis and his heavy balls.

König chuckled as he watched your eyes, completely enamored with his dick. König stroked himself a few times so he could fully harden, making you blush just watching it.

He smiled and kissed your temple softly, “Don't get shy on me now, engel (angel).” He rasped.

“That thing will not fit; it will split me open.” You breathed, and he laughed at that. “I'll make it fit.”

You looked at him, your eyes a mix of unease and need—a paradoxical combination that left even you confused about what you wanted. But the way he left your cunt wanting, you didn't think you could leave without it.

“Promise to go slow, okay?” you asked him. König nodded. “Promise hübsches mädchen (pretty girl).” He whispered back to you; he then slowly dragged his hard cock along your puffy cunt. Making you squirm as the tip collected your slick.

König then pushed the fat tip into you; immediately, you whined, and your hands dug into his shoulder. Your back pressed against the mirror, and your thighs tightened around his abdomen.

He slowly pushed his hips into you inch by inch. It was a mix between pain and pleasure, feeling a tightness in your cunt as König stretched out your gummy walls.

He looked up at you once you were halfway, “Gut fühlen (feeling good)? Can I keep going?”

You nodded and breathed out, “Yeah, keep going.” You whimpered.

Fuck, it all felt so good, his hands slotted at your back and thighs. His cock pushing into you at an agonizing pace. König hisses as he plunges himself fully into you, his hips pressed against yours. “Mein Gott (my god), that's it.” He groaned.

“Oh mein Gott, verdammt (oh my god, fuck), tightest pussy I've had.” König breathes, his hands squeezing the flesh of your hip and thigh. You felt full; his fleshy tip prodded against your sweet spot. This was different than his fingers or his mouth. This felt addictive, the way your cunt pulled him in, the way you melded into him like you were made for his cock.

You felt your head fall back against the mirror, sucking in breaths and moans each time he pulsed inside your cunt. “König, need you to move.” you gasped.

He nodded, lifting your hips and then dropping them down while bucking up into you at the same time, using you like a human fleshlight. You screamed.

He immediately set a pace, not slow, but not fast either. It was like he was testing the waters on how much you could take. And god, did you want everything. You wanted it more than air.

His cock slipped in and out of your pulsating cunt, a squelching noise sucking him back in every time he forced himself back in. The both of you were a mess, grunting and gasping for air. König slotted his face inside the crook of your neck so he could whisper his profanities into your ear while he speared you with his cock.

“Dir gefällt das, nicht wahr (you like this, don't you)? Come on, hübsches Mädchen (pretty girl). Tell me how much you love this dick.”

His hips rammed up into you, the tip of him pushing up into your cunt, making you yelp. You were barely processing what he said, “Feels so good, fuck you feel so good König.” You cry out.

This spurred him on further, his hands forcing you down at a much more brutal pace. König was splitting you open, and you couldn't be more willing to take it. You took it so well, wet cunt fluttering around him.

The sounds the both of you made echoed across the gym's walls. The grunts and moans, the wet slapping of his balls against your body, and the lewd noises of you soaking his dick in your own arousal.

The mirror that you were pressed up against was fogged in the shape of your ass and back. Yet you didn't care; all you could think about was the giant of a man desperately plunging his needy cock into your swollen pussy.

“God, do you know how long I've wanted to do this? Huh? To fuck you on my cock? Every damn time I looked at you, I wanted you.” He hissed, bucking his hips up into you.

You felt dizzy; you couldn't process his words. You were too fucked out. He noticed this and chucked, followed by a moan—his breath melding against the curve of your neck. “Dummes Mädchen (dumb girl), can't even think now, can you? Too drunk off this dick.” He grunted.

Your hands held his shoulders, nails digging into his clothes. “Making a mess of my fucking pants.” he breathed.

There it was again. You felt the familiar coil within your body. You were close, “König- gonna cum. Can't hold it,” you cried out. Your thighs were clenching around his abdomen. He nodded, “I know, scheiße (fuck), I know. Come on, do it for me; come on this cock.”

You screamed his name, a tidal wave of electricity running through your body. Your cunt fluttered around him, gushing perfectly around his cock. It was like you saw white, your eyes rolling back as he pounded through your orgasm. Your toes curling and your legs straightening out.

König moaned as you creamed around his dick. He felt it, too. His digits dug into your skin, “Engel (Angel), tell me where. Fuck tell me where you want it.” he gasped.

You almost didn't respond, almost in another world entirely, as his hips pounded into your spent cunt. You felt a thousand things at once, “I-Inside, I'm clean.” you choked out.

At that, he came, his hips stuttering, letting out a long breathy moan. He coated your pussy white, a warmth spreading through your hole. He lazily thrust a few more times before just staying put. Gasping for air as he twitched and slowly softened in your cunt.

The two of you stayed there for a few minutes, basking in the afterglow. Then König raised his head from your neck to look at you; his eyes were clouded through his hood. “Hey süßes mädchen (sweet girl), you with me?” he murmured. Holding your hips while he stayed inside, enjoying the warmth of your pussy.

You nodded lazily, your breathing still heavy. “Mhm, I'm with you.”

He nodded and looked at you, “Atta girl, took me so well, engel (angel).” you smiled at the praise feeling a low buzzing in your body that spread over you like a blanket. You let your head fall into his collarbone. “I can't feel my legs,” you giggled softly.

König held you a little tighter, “Like a good ‘I can't feel my legs’? Or a bad one?” He asked you and you hummed in response.

“Good, I think. But I'm not going to be able to walk.”

He grinned, “Well, that was kinda the idea, süßes mädchen (sweet girl).” You could only smile softly; you knew this was probably a wrong decision to do this again, but you couldn't care less at that moment. “I still hate you, by the way,” you murmured playfully into his collar. He chuckled, his fingers rubbing soothing circles around your hips.

“Look who's giving tough love now?” He mused.

Maybe that was all it was between you, tough love. Some unresolved tension that ate away at the both of you until it boiled over. But at that moment, you didn't mind. It was better not to think about that. For now, you just wanted to be.

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Hi, this is my first work. I'm not sure if I like it; it's rather bad. I haven't been on Tumblr that long, so I'm still getting everything sorted out. I'm not much of a writer, and I've never posted any works. If people like it, I'll probably write more, but otherwise, I don't see much of a point. This was kind of a one-off thing. But if you found it mildly entertaining, then I'm happy. And if you did make it this far, then thank you: much love, and happy holidays.

<3

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#könig x reader #könig #cod mw2 #könig smut #smut #enemies to lovers #call of duty #lemon #first post #new user #writers block #fictional men #konig cod #konig call of duty #konig modern warfare #konig x y/n #18+ content #military #age g4p