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random0lover · 1 year

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Hi! I was wondering if u can write how simon ghost riley reacts to if u want to fem!reader being all dolled up for an event or sumn. you imagine the rest 😭😭😭😭😭. love ur writing btw 🙏

A Day for First’s and Adding a Second

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x wife fem!reader

Summary: It’s your and Simon’s son’s kindergarten graduation so you have to dress nicely and Simon loves it. Also a little surprise at the end.

Word Count: 1,686

Warnings: slightly NSFW (grinding while fully clothed) so 18+, established relationship, fluff at the end, reader is called love once, Simon being all hot and bothered, Price is your dad 🫣, pregnancy mentioned towards the end, is fem!reader and should be POC friendly! If you notice anything that makes you feel otherwise please let me know! I never want anyone to feel excluded with/in my work ♡

Notes: This is my first Simon fic and I honestly don’t know how to feel about it. Part of me adores it and the other thinks it’s trash, either way I wanted to respond to this request as it’s so sweet and the idea is adorable. I hope I was able to do your request justice my love! Also flashback are in italics.

You don’t often dress fancy but today your and Simon’s son was going to be graduating kindergarten. He goes to a private school at the moment so there were certain expectations and dress codes that you had to follow whether you wanted to or not.

The kids were all to wear navy blues and the parents were all to wear white or black. Everyone dressing formally.

You were currently getting ready in yours and Simons shared bathroom while Simon was helping your son finish getting ready.

You decided pretty quickly that while you would’ve loved to wear a white dress, being around children for up to three hours did not go well with the color white.

So you went with a black dress that reached right above your knees with loose sleeves that went down your arms to help make sure that you wouldn’t be cold with a neckline that was set right above your chest. The dress wasn’t to form fitting so that you would be able to sit for an hour or two without being uncomfortable or feeling constricted.

You were just finishing up your preferred makeup look when there was a light tap at the bathroom door.

You call out a small come in but start digging through the jewelry box on the counter that Simon had slowly been filling up over the years that you had been together no matter how much you protested against it.

You heard the door click open but didn’t hear Simon come in but you could feel his presence there, you always could.

“Hey Si, which necklace do you think I should wear?” You’re holding a necklace in each hand. The one in your right hand was the first necklace he had ever gotten you for your 6 month anniversary. It had two pear-shaped diamonds at the center surrounded by round-cut diamonds on a sterling silver chain.

The one in your left was a necklace that had been passed down through your family line and not too long ago your dad gifted it to you as a birthday present. It has 20 round shaped diamonds and in the center sits an oval shaped diamond with a white gold setting on a Singapore chain.

You usually didn’t have a hard time choosing a piece of jewelry but today you were slightly conflicted and his silence wasn’t helping.

You finally look up from the jewelry in your hand to look into the mirror and find Simon leaning against the bathroom door frame in an all black suit with gloves to match. He usually wears a black face mask out in public but he doesn’t have it on yet leaving it off until you were all ready to leave.

You feel his gaze slide along your body leaving a hot trail in its wake and you patiently wait until his eyes connect with yours in the mirror. Once they do you can’t help the sharp breath that escapes your mouth from the intense look he is holding in his dark brown hues.

A hum starts in your core when he steps towards you in three large steps and slightly leans his weight into you causing you to lean over the counter slightly.

You squeeze your eyes shut relishing in the heat surrounding you. Your lips part in a silent gasp when he slides his hand down your spine leaving it to settle on your hip and in the same moment runs his mouth along the arch of your neck and up to your ear.

“If we didn’t have somewhere to be I would take my time ravishing you against this sink.” His deep voice wraps around your body making goosebumps trail the lengths of your arms.

The impact of his words on your hazy brain makes you grind back against him, he lets out a small groan and rocks his hips into you while tightening his grip on your hip and pulling you back against him causing the perfect amount of friction.

You’re both lost in the moment trying to keep your moans and his grunts as quiet as possible so that your son didn’t hear.

Your body is getting hotter the longer you both claw at each other. It has been too long since the last time you’ve had the chance to feel each other's skin without being interrupted. You can tell that he’s getting close from the way his breath is puffing at your ear and he’s pulling you into him harder and harder, almost lifting your feet up off the ground.

Your ears are starting to ring from the pleasure and the rope in your stomach that is pulling taut when you hear little feet running across the house combined with giggling when you yank yourself away from Simon and open your eyes for the first time since this whole ordeal started.

You're busy trying to fix your dress and Simon is adjusting the bugle in his slacks when you hear the running stop outside yours and Simon's shared room before picking up again and the giggling sounding farther away.

He’s staring at you again when you look up at him making the fire in your body that was slowly sizzling out to start up again.

“The one your dad gave you.” You look at him confused for a moment and he smirks lightly, “the necklace.”

You look over at the two necklaces that had been carelessly tossed onto the counter during your moment. You pick up the necklace he said and offer it to him while moving your hair out of the way making your neck available for him.

You face the mirror and once he’s behind you you look into his eyes in the mirror, “Speaking of my dad,” you let out a sigh,”he offered to babysit tonight.”

He pauses mid wrapping the chain around your neck, his eyebrows lifting, “Price actually offered to watch him?”

You roll your eyes, “How many years have we been together and how old is our son now? I’m pretty sure my dad being mad at you is gone by now.”

He latches the necklace and slides his hand around you to grip your chin making sure your eyes stay connected in the mirror, “I don’t know,” he moves his mouth right up against your ear making you shiver, “I can still hear how mad he was when he found out his lieutenant was doing more than helping his captain's daughter move into her new flat.”

You sigh, mind flashing back to the day that all the tension between you and Simon finally snapped.

You had found a flat to finally move into and your dad was supposed to help you but something came up at work that was a bit more important so he sent over a man he knew he could rely on. What he didn’t know is that you and Simon had been fighting the urge to give into one another and you two being alone all day? It was bound to happen.

Price had walked in when Simon was helping you put the last of the furniture in which was your couch. You weren’t in a compromising position or anything but your neck was littered with love bites. You had a glow to you that you didn’t have that morning when you saw Price, and you were wearing Simon’s shirt leaving him with just a black wife beater on.

The man flew into a rage slamming his fist into Simon's face and a shocked Soap was left gawking until he kicked into gear yanking his captain up off of his lieutenant which was not an easy feat.

Simon didn’t fight back one bit as he knew that this was the reaction he was going to get. The captain had made one rule with his team, “Don’t touch my fucking daughter.”

It took months for your dad to even be okay with seeing you together at all. He could see how in love with each other you were and so the day Simon asked for his blessing he of course said yes.

You're pulled out of your thoughts from Simon sighing into your neck and gently kissing a sensitive spot. “Was thinking we could maybe make your favorite dinner and watch a movie?”

He nods, stepping away from you, “sounds good to me love.”

You give him a smirk in the mirror, “I also have a surprise for you.”

His eyes glide over you again focusing on how the dress hugs you in all the right places, “oh really? I’m going to hold you to that so no getting all cuddled up in my lap and falling asleep early.”

You know he’s teasing so you snort and roll your eyes before shooing him out of the bathroom trying to keep a knowing smile hidden, “I’m almost ready so why don’t you go get our little energy ball in his car seat.”

He gives you a quick kiss before walking out of the room and you hear him calling for your son. You listen for a moment to make sure he won’t be coming back and once you're sure you pull out a little key to unlock a part of the jewelry box.

You dig your hand into the open drawer and pull out a light blue rectangle box with a pink ribbon tied around it. Inside the box were three positive pregnancy tests. You wanted to be sure and didn’t want to get your hopes up so you wanted to take more than one.

You were so excited to tell him about the pregnancy as a few weeks ago he came to you asking if you would ever want another baby. You were hoping for a little girl this time around, the perfect addition to your family of three. Adding a second bundle of joy to your lives.

You hear Simon calling into the house for you and you yell back that you were coming. You put the little box back into the drawer and grab your purse and leave the room thinking about how your life is so different than what you thought it would be and honestly you couldn’t be happier.

Hi my lovelies, I hope you liked this little fic! I wasn’t sure how to go about the ending so personally don’t know how to feel about it and would love some feed back. Anyways I hope you all have amazing days <3

Requests are open! I can not promise when or if I will write them but I do prefer requests that are slightly more specific as I find them a little bit easier to write but it’s not required. Thanks for reading my darlings ♡

#cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #call of duty #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #task force 141 #simon riley #captain john price #Price is your dad #mw2 #cod #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley x you #fem!reader #wife fem!reader #simon riley x wife!reader #ghost cod #random0lover my writing

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pin-k-ink · 8 days

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paradox // kunikida doppo

tw ⇢ punishment sex, spanking, power play, sir kink, degradation, dirty talk, begging, unprotected sex, kinda bratty reader, manhandling, slightly possessive kunikida

wc ⇢ 5.7k

a/n: for the sake of the story, let’s just pretend that he has an office of his own. also, i’m not happy with this one at all :(

Kunikida pinched the bridge of his nose, trying and failing to ignore the pounding headache brought on by you once again. As an elite member of the Armed Detective Agency, he prided himself on maintaining strict order and following protocol to the letter. You, on the other hand, seemed to take immense pleasure in upending rules and sowing chaos wherever you went.

From the moment the agency had reluctantly taken you on as a recruit, you had been a thorn in Kunikida's side. Your flagrant disregard for authority and propensity for reckless behavior clashed violently with his regimented, by-the-book approach. He had tried every disciplinary method in the book to whip you into an ideal operative - stern reprimands, revoked privileges, even temporary suspensions. But you remained stubbornly defiant, meeting his gravely disapproving looks with that insufferable, mocking smirk.

And yet, Kunikida couldn't deny the alarming frequency with which his thoughts strayed to your insolent countenance, your brazen flaunting of the rules he held so dear. You frustrated him to no end, but also awoke a deeper, indefinable tension within him that he didn't quite understand. An unseemly, unbidden part of him wondered what it would take to finally break through that seemingly impenetrable veneer of nonchalance and make you bend to his will.

Perhaps that made him a hypocrite of sorts - dreaming of bending the rules himself when it came to dealing with his most problematic subordinate. But you inspired a sense of reckless abandon in Kunikida that both thrilled and deeply unsettled him...

No matter how firmly Kunikida attempted to lock away the inappropriate thoughts and urges you awoke within him, you always seemed to claw your way back into the forefront of his mind. Your blatant refusal to take anything seriously gnawed at his restraint in a way he couldn't quite explain.

During disciplinary meetings, he found his eyes inadvertently trailing over the swell of your lips as you responded to his reprimands with that aggravating pout and exaggerated eye-rolls. He cursed the spike of heat that rushed through him at your patent disregard for his authority. A dark part of him wondered what it would take to wipe that impudent look off your face and replace it with something else...something less insolent.

The mere thought made Kunikida's palm itch to land a stinging slap to that sarcastic mouth of yours. He quickly banished the highly inappropriate imagery, aghast at himself for even entertaining something so unprofessional. This was exactly the kind of lapse in his hallmark control that you always managed to inspire in him.

And you remained utterly oblivious to the war raging within Kunikida every time your brazen antics landed you in his office for punishment. You simply met his gravest tongue-lashings with that same unbothered defiance. As if you could sense the effect you had on rattling his sterling composure and relished every second of it.

"Are you even listening?" Kunikida's raised voice would inevitably cut through your studious inspection of your nails or whatever else you used to intentionally tune him out. Slowly, you'd raise your gaze to his thunderous expression and bite back a grin.

"Of course, sir," you'd reply in that dulcet, insincere tone that made his jaw clench. "You were just regaling me again about the importance of following orders like a good little worker bee. My bad for zoning out."

The blatant mockery made Kunikida's hand spasm with the effort of restraining the shameful urge to--what? Shake you until that infuriatingly placid look shattered? Drag you over his knee for a painful lesson in respect?

He ruthlessly blanked those disturbing thoughts. This was precisely why he could never seem to make any headway with curbing your unruly behavior. You prowled at the very edges of his control, threatening to pull him down into a pit of disarray that he couldn't allow. At least, not as long as he remained your commanding superior.

But an increasingly depraved part of Kunikida wondered...what if he stopped adhering so strictly to the rules and regulations, just this once? What if he finally allowed himself to unleash the darkly authoritative side of himself you always seemed to flirt with riling up?

The thought was offensive to his core principles of conduct. And yet, the longer you persisted in your defiance, the harder it became for Kunikida to ignore. He could feel his restraint slipping more each day. Eventually something would have to give - either he would find a way to break through your mulish refusal to obey...or you would finally succeed in shattering his hallowed self-control entirely.

And somewhere deep down, a reckless part of Kunikida feared that the latter possibility was becoming harder and harder to discount entirely.

With every insolent quirk of your brow, every piccant quip dripping from your lips, Kunikida could feel his grasp on his legendary restraint slipping further. You had evolved from a mere disciplinary headache into something more...an itch he couldn't scratch, a puzzle he couldn't solve no matter how sternly he attempted to enforce protocol.

You remained utterly unfazed by his harshest reprimands and threats of punishment. In fact, you seemed to take a impish sort of delight in watching his control splinter under your relentless provocations. As if your sole purpose was to unmake the foundations of order and decorum that Kunikida had spent his life upholding.

The truly unsettling part was the unmistakable frisson of darkness that surged through Kunikida whenever you managed to rattle his unshakable decorum. He couldn't deny the undercurrent of illicit satisfaction that came with fantasies of finally stripping away that veneer of nonchalance by any means necessary. Of making you bend to his dominance and discipline until that diffident smirk was replaces with open desperation.

These were dangerous thoughts, Kunikida knew. They strayed into shadowed territory completely unbefitting of his position and principles. And yet he found himself unable to purge them entirely from his mind's eye. Especially not after that deliciously fraught encounter last week...

You had reported for a disciplinary meeting as required after your latest fiasco in the field. But this time, Kunikida's stern rebukes seemed to land with more effectiveness than usual. For once, you didn't simply smirk and dismiss his words out of hand. Instead, you had gone conspicuously still and quiet, holding his blazing gaze with something like trepidation.

Perhaps emboldened by that minute response, Kunikida hadn't been able to resist stepping into your space, pinning you with the full force of his formidable presence. You shrank back fractionally, your pupils blown wide as Kunikida allowed his voice to drop to a dangerous register.

"I'm going to ask you one final time," he had uttered in a tone of hushed intensity. "Are you going to start adhering to the protocols I've outlined, or am I going to have to take...disciplinary measures?"

Your throat had worked convulsively at the undisguised threat in his words. And Kunikida hadn't missed the way your chest rose and fell in strained panting as his proximity increased. Recklessly, he allowed his hand to grasp your jaw, his thumb sweeping over the plump swell of your lower lip.

"W-what kind of measures?" You managed to whisper, your eyes locked on his with a look he had never seen before. Not defiance or amusement...but something murkier. Needier.

Kunikida felt his control stretching to the breaking point in that moment. He had opened his mouth, dizzy with the realization that you had finally responded to his dominance in a way that spoke to primal, ravenous drives he kept locked away...

But then the sharp rap at his office door had shattered the tension. In an instant, Kunikida had sprung back, snatching his hand from your face as if burned. You had quickly looked away, color flooding your cheeks as you smoothed your shirt with unsteady hands. And simply like that, the intoxicating spell was broken.

A deep, unsettling part of Kunikida remained haunted by the memory - by the implications of what could have happened had you two been left uninterrupted. It was the closest he had come to completely casting off his rigid restraints where you were involved.

And he knew it was only a matter of time before you well and truly pushed him past that line for good.

In the aftermath of that charged encounter, Kunikida found it utterly impossible to purge you from his thoughts. His mind kept revisiting that moment when you had peered up at him through hooded eyes, your quickened breaths and parted lips hinting at something dangerously intoxicating simmering beneath the surface.

For once, you had seemed to surrender to his dominance rather than reflexively defying it. And Kunikida couldn't lie to himself - a baser, unrestrained part of him had sorely wanted to capitalize on that rare show of submission. To finally unleash the full force of his authority upon your insubordinate defiance in the way he'd been craving.

The things he could have done in that heated instance made Kunikida's blood run hot with illicit imaginings. He saw himself crowding into your personal space, allowing you no chance to retreat as he caged you against the wall. His hand would be merciless in its grip on your jaw, forcing your gaze to remain locked on his as he uttered in a dangerous rumble:

"That's enough backtalk from you. I've indulged your deplorable lack of discipline for far too long." His free hand would skim torturously down the side of your body, hips pressing firmly against yours. "I think it's high time I revisited the more...traditional methods for addressing willful insubordination, don't you?"

He could easily envision the thunderstruck look on your face, the sharp intake of breath as you grasped the undeniable threat - and promise - in his words. You would have nowhere to run, nowhere to hide from the punishing weight of Kunikida's dominance as his dark presence utterly consumed you.

Imagining you pliant and submissive in his grasp made Kunikida's core run molten. But even more dizzying was picturing you defiantly attempting to wrest back control. Visualizing the lush curve of your lower lip caught between biting teeth, eyes flashing insolent challenge at him. Kunikida's hand would instinctively tighten its bruising hold in response, his hips flexing against yours in clear warning.

"That's no way to look at a superior officer giving you an order," he would growl in a low tone that vibrated with contained menace and hunger. "If you insist on persisting in open insubordination...I'll simply have to find increasingly creative means of ensuring your obedience."

Coherent thought scattered at the maelstrom of forbidden images that suggestion conjured. He pictured your quickened panting, the feverish sweep of his eyes over your parted lips. Imagined the feeling of bare, flushed skin beneath his roaming palms as he ruthlessly stripped away every last scrap of nonchalance and defiance until only desperation and dark desire remained. Until you openly craved the merciless onslaught of his discipline as the only way to slake the raging ache he had instilled...

Lost in the lurid tailspin of such depraved fantasy, Kunikida had to choke back a guttural groan. He couldn't allow this lapse of his restraints, this flagrant dereliction of his sworn ethics. He was a professional damn it, not some degenerate indulging prurient appetites with a subordinate.

And yet every passing encounter made it more difficult to maintain that line. Especially when you would provoke him intentionally, practically begging for him to give in and relieve this growing, suffocating tension between you both. You were utterly shameless about it - biting your lip as you met his furious glare, shifting your hips in a subtle grind, making a show of trailing your fingers along your throat or any other path that drew Kunikida's hungry gaze.

It was as if you had finally recognized the combustible effect you exerted on his decorum and were determined to see how far you could push until he finally snapped.

The thought made Kunikida's jaw clench hard enough that his teeth ached. Because for all his bluster about punishments and discipline, he knew you had him at a profound disadvantage. He was teetering inexorably toward that point of no return where he would finally abandon every professional protocol and ethical brake.

And once he crossed that line, once he allowed his authority to wholly dominate and subjugate your mutinous defiance...he feared even you wouldn't be prepared for the ferocity of his response.

The closer Kunikida skirted to that precarious line, the more unrestrained your provocations became. You seemed to realize on an instinctual level that his restraint was thinning perilously. And like a predator sent blood in the water, you honed in relentlessly.

Simple disciplinary meetings turned into charged exhibitions where Kunikida found himself battling dueling urges - to either haul you over his desk and put you in your place once and for all...or to retreat before his control shattered entirely. The way your eyes danced with smug challenge as you stretched lazily in your seat, your shirt riding up to reveal a teasing strip of toned midriff. How you made a show of sucking on the end of your pen while maintaining that boldly unwavering stare.

He knew exactly what you were doing, could perceive the deliberate allure in each languid movement and baiting look. Yet it made no difference. Despite himself, Kunikida remained inescapably, irresistibly ensnared.

On several occasions, he even caught himself entertaining dark fantasies of making you pay for such provocative behavior. Of grasping the back of your neck in a brutal grip as he hauled you against his body, hissing reprimands directly against the heated shell of your ear.

"You think you can toy with me indefinitely?" His voice would be low and dangerous, sending involuntary shivers down your spine. "Push my restraint until I finally snap and retaliate in kind?"

He imagined his free hand roaming with impunity up your thigh, reveling in your sharp inhalation and instinctive part of your legs at the first brush of calloused fingertips against overheated skin.

"Be very careful what you wish for," Kunikida would rumble with quiet intensity. "My patience is nearing its end. And when it does...you're going to be wholly unprepared for what I inflict as punishment."

The thought made something dark and primal flare in the depths of his gaze as he drank in your reaction - the abrupt dilation of your pupils, the rapid flutter of your pulse visible in your throat. He found himself aching to push further, to see how far he could shove before you finally broke composure.

Of course, these sordid imaginings remained locked behind a carefully impassive facade in reality. But you seemed to perceive the storm brewing beneath, needling Kunikida with increasingly overt temptations. It was only a matter of time before one side inevitably yielded to the other's insistent goading.

Both of you understood the dangerous inevitability of that outcome. And unless Kunikida missed his mark, a perverse thrill coursed through you at the sinful prospect. You wanted to test the true reaches of his brutally implacable dominance. Craved to know just how merciless and singleminded he could be in stripping you of every last shred of insolent defiance, replacing it with desperation.

And deep down, past his last remaining shreds of professionalism, Kunikida knew he ached to finally unleash the full, unrestrained extent of his discipline upon you. To make you keenly experience the consequences of your flagrant acts of mutiny in a way that would irrevocably shatter the dynamic between you both.

He could practically taste the exquisite downfall awaiting on the other side of that line. The thought made his blood burn with illicit, undeniable need. Soon...so very soon now, he could already sense it.

One of you was going to be driven past the point of no return. And may whatever gods existed have mercy on the both of you when that finally happened.

The tipping point arrived in an almost anticlimactic fashion after one too many instances of your flagrant disregard for authority. A missed stakeout, a botched pursuit, careless actions that nearly blew an undercover operation - all culminated into a perfect storm that saw Kunikida summon you to his office with a look of thunderous rage.

You sauntered in as usual, seemingly oblivious to the palpable danger radiating off Kunikida in waves. When you opened your mouth to likely spout some flippant dismissal, Kunikida's palm slammed down on the desk with an earth-shattering bang.

"That's it!" He roared, his voice dripping with a lethal combination of fury and something darker, more ominous. "I've reached the limit of my forbearance where your unruly behavior is concerned."

There was an undercurrent of promised violence quivering beneath his words that sent an illicit shiver down your spine. Finally, you found yourself pinned by the full, unleashed force of Kunikida's domineering presence with no filter or restraint.

"S-sir..." You started, surprised to find your voice coming out more breathless than intended.

"No!" He snarled, rounding the desk in two long strides to loom over your frozen form."Not another word from your intractably vexing mouth. All you've done is goad me time and again with open defiance and contemptuous flaunting of every order."

One hand shot out to clutch the front of your shirt, the other gripping your jaw in a bruising hold that you instinctively tried to pull back from. But Kunikida was having none of it, his enraged features just inches from yours as he effortlessly subdued your attempts at retreat.

"It's clear that reasoned disciplinary actions hold no efficacy for an endlessly incorrigible, disrespectful wanton like you," he growled, his eyes burning with a ferocious intensity you'd never witnessed. "Since you refuse to respond to anything other than enticement and temptation..."

His grip on you tightened painfully then, his hips pressing you back against the wall as he loomed into your space, suffocatingly overwhelming in his masculine potency.

"I'm going to give you exactly what you've been asking for this whole time. The disciplinary punishment you've been flagrantly courting with every insubordinate act and tawdry provocation!"

Your eyes went wide at the undisguised vow of dominance, thrills of excitement and apprehension chasing each other. This was it - the moment you had sought to goad into existence through increasingly outrageous mutinies. Finally, you had pushed past Kunikida's hallowed restraints, unleashing the full, untempered force of his merciless authority.

A tiny part of your mind whispered that you should be terrified at the implications of his furious promise. That you were utterly at his mercy now, stripped of all defiance or nonchalance to shield you from his implacable onslaught. But the rest of you trembled with shameless yearning at the exquisite anticipation.

You held his blazing stare, allowing your lips to curl in a last, insouciant smirk that you knew would infuriate him further. A final push past the point of no return.

"Well?" You heard yourself taunting breathlessly, even as your core tightened with need. "What are you waiting for, sir? I'm ready for my punishment..."

Kunikida's eyes dimmed to something utterly primal and implacable in that moment. His mouth crashed over yours in a searing, punishing embrace of total domination and possession that stole your very breath. You could only weakly surrender, every ounce of protest and defiance melting beneath the unstoppable force of his furious onslaught.

Kunikida's assault on your senses remained utterly merciless and consuming for long, dizzying moments. When he finally tore his mouth from yours with a rasping growl, you were left weak-kneed and panting, captive in the scorching heat of his stare.

"If you insist on receiving this punishment you've been so shamelessly angling for," he rumbled in a voice rendered husky with banked intensity, "Then we're going to establish a few ground rules first."

One hand released its grip on your shirt, only to slide possessively down the side of your waist. You shivered at the teasing, almost punishing touch as he pulled your hips flush against his own.

"First - you will address me as 'Sir' at all times without a single exception or hint of insolence," Kunikida stated with soft menace. "Any disobedience, disrespect or defiant behavior of any kind will result in..." His fingers dug warningly into the swell of your ass, making you gasp. "Harsher disciplinary actions, understood?"

You could only mutely nod, throat too dry with anticipation to summon words. Kunikida's blazing eyes pierced you with censure at the lack of verbal acquiescence.

"Answer me properly," he growled in clear reprimand.

"Y-Yes...Sir," you whispered feverishly.

Satisfaction flickered over his expression before that ruthless mask reasserted itself. His palm trailed up to cup the side of your jaw, thumb sweeping over your lower lip in a gesture that somehow felt more overtly profane than his earlier bruising embrace.

"Good girl. Secondly, you are to remain fully nude and available for inspection and use for the duration of your punishment. At any point I desire to revel you laid bare before me, you will comply without hesitation. Are we clear?"

Your blood turned to liquid fire at the dark promise, thighs clenching involuntarily even as you managed a strangled, "Yes, Sir..."

Kunikida's eyes glittered with undisguised approval and something infinitely more carnal. Another lascivious sweep of his thumb and then he was pressing even more insistently into your personal space, his height and bulk rendering you utterly dwarfed.

"Lastly," he uttered in a voice gone molten with depths of rough authority. "You are not to achieve any sort of completion or release without my express command. Doing so will only succeed in prolonging your disciplinary regimen...perhaps indefinitely."

The whispered threat made your knees buckle treacherously. You could only stare up at Kunikida with something akin to desperation, already entirely in his thrall. "Yes..." you choked out, beyond any semblance of defiance or impudence now. "Yes, Sir!"

A sensuous smile of dark promise curved Kunikida's lips as he drank in your naked, yearning avidity. "Then let's begin..."

With that, he closed the infinitesimal gap between your bodies, his large hands grasping to divest you of clothing as his mouth slanted over yours in a searing, claiming brand of possession and dominance.

You could only keen softly into the devouring onslaught, surrendering to the relentless force of Kunikida's unleashed ardor and discipline with desperate, helpless abandon.

Kunikida's hands continued their ruthless task of stripping you bare, leaving you flushed and exposed to the searing heat of his hungry gaze. But the moment your clothes lay a pile at your feet, his grip shifted to seize your wrists. In an instant, he had turned you both to pin you face-first against the wall.

"Now then..." His voice was a low rumble as his large palm trailed down your back to rest heavily on the curve of your backside. "Time to teach you what happens to those who flagrantly disobey and disregard direct orders."

The first smack of his palm landed without warning, making you jolt in surprise. The initial sting was followed by a blooming warmth and spreading sensation that sent shivers down your spine.

"One," he uttered, his hand massaging the sensitive area. "For missing that stakeout last week."

His palm struck again, harder this time, the impact forcing a breathless cry from your lips. "Two," he murmured, his fingers kneading the tender flesh with deliberate, cruel pressure. "For allowing that suspect to escape after being under strict surveillance."

"Three..." A third slap landed, sending ripples of heat and stinging pleasure-pain through you.

"Four..." The sound of your ragged gasps and Kunikida's low, hypnotic voice counted down each blow, making your skin run hot and flushed.

"Five..." Each impact left you feeling more lightheaded, the pain giving way to a pulsing ache of arousal that throbbed through you.

"Six..." Your legs trembled from the effort of keeping upright, and you couldn't contain the sharp moan that escaped as Kunikida's large, calloused palm delivered a punishing swat.

"Seven..." Kunikida's voice remained utterly calm and unwavering, as if the sight of your squirming and moaning in response to his harsh disciplinary measures was merely a formality.

"Eight..." Tears pricked your eyes, the pain of the strikes blurring with the overwhelming pleasure until it was nearly indistinguishable.

"Nine..." Your head tipped forward against the wall, unable to contain the soft whimpers escaping your lips.

"Ten."

The final slap was by far the hardest, and the most intense. It sent a flood of heat through you, the ache of pain mingling with a sharp spike of arousal. Kunikida's palms skimmed over the reddened, sensitive flesh, and a choked moan fell from your lips at the exquisite mixture of agony and need.

"Such a good girl, taking her punishment so well." Kunikida's low voice rumbled with approval, the heat of his chest suddenly pressed against your back. One hand curled around the front of your neck, his nose nudging against the shell of your ear.

"Now tell me..." His free hand slipped down the front of your body, his fingers delving between your trembling thighs. "How do you think I should punish this wanton little cunt for her brazen defiance?"

You whimpered and jerked against him, overwhelmed by the feeling of his fingers sliding through your slick heat. He seemed to be purposefully avoiding your throbbing clit, instead spreading the evidence of your arousal over your folds.

"Shall I fill you to the brim and use you as I see fit until I've had my fill?" Kunikida mused, his teeth lightly grazing your earlobe. "Or should I leave you wanting and desperate, bound and helpless as I indulge myself at my leisure?"

A shuddering gasp fell from your lips, and you couldn't help pushing back against him, grinding shamelessly into his touch. You were utterly overcome with desire and need, the pain of his earlier chastisement still lingering but no longer enough to satiate.

"P-please..." you pleaded, unable to control the needy rocking of your hips. "Please, I need--"

"No." The sudden bite of his voice made you freeze, the hand around your throat tightening slightly. "I've given you enough liberties as it is. Now you're going to beg me properly for the privilege of relief."

You swallowed hard, the pressure on your neck only serving to heighten your desperation. "Please..." you whispered, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. "Please, I'll do anything, just--"

"Not good enough." Kunikida's fingers abruptly pulled away, and you barely stifled a needy whine. "Beg."

His command was punctuated with a firm swat to the side of your ass, the sting reigniting the dull ache from earlier. You yelped and bucked against him, and you could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh.

"P-please..." The word was torn from your throat, raw and pleading. "Please, I need to feel you inside me. Need you to fill me, fuck me, please..."

"Very good." There was a dark, pleased note in Kunikida's voice, and you shuddered in anticipation. His hand left your throat, only to tangle in your hair and yank your head back, exposing your neck.

"But first, one final lesson in obedience."

You barely had time to register his words before his lips descended on your throat, sucking and biting a dark bruise into your skin. You cried out, arching into his touch, your hips grinding against his as he marked you.

"Mine." The single word was uttered with such possessive certainty that it sent a thrill down your spine. His other hand grasped your hip, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he held you in place.

"Say it."

The command was accompanied by a sharp nip to the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and you moaned shamelessly. "Yours," you breathed, the words tumbling from your lips without hesitation.

Kunikida's low growl of approval sent a shiver through you, and you could feel him shift behind you, his hands leaving your body for a moment.

"I want to see you."

The words were growled into your ear, his presence behind you disappearing for a moment. The next thing you knew, his large hands were gripping your waist, turning you to face him. He looked utterly wrecked, his eyes dark and pupils blown wide, his chest heaving and cheeks flushed.

It was a heady feeling, seeing such a usually composed, self-possessed man reduced to such a state of undone hunger. Especially because of you.

Your eyes dropped to his pants, which were straining around the impressive bulge of his erection. You licked your lips, suddenly overcome with the urge to taste him, to feel him fill your mouth as you knelt at his feet.

"Sir, may I--"

"No." His voice was hard and firm, his eyes flashing with dangerous heat. "You are not in a position to make demands or requests right now."

A wave of defiance washed through you, and you bit your lip, unable to resist a parting shot. "Then perhaps I should simply find another way to entertain myself while you get yourself together, sir."

A low, feral sound tore from Kunikida's throat, and before you could react, his hands were gripping your waist, tossing you unceremoniously onto his desk. Papers went flying, and you had just enough time to prop yourself up on your elbows before his hands were pinning you in place.

"Do not," he hissed, his face mere inches from yours. "Test me right now."

Your breath hitched, a flush of heat going through you at the intensity of his gaze. His lips crashed over yours in a rough, claiming kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth. You moaned into the kiss, arching against him, desperate for friction.

He seemed just as impatient, his hands leaving your wrists to slide down your body, his fingers finally - blessedly - finding your clit. You broke the kiss, gasping as he stroked you, circling your clit and spreading the wetness gathering at your entrance.

"Fuck, you're soaking," he muttered, his eyes darkening as he watched you writhe beneath him. "You really do enjoy this, don't you? Being put in your place, taken apart by my authority."

His fingers dipped lower, teasing at your entrance, and you whined. "P-please," you gasped, grinding against his hand. "Please, I need--"

"You need me to fill you, don't you?" He rumbled, the tip of his finger sinking into you. "Need to feel me inside you, stretching you, fucking you."

You could only moan in response, the ache in your core growing unbearable. His fingers were driving you crazy, the way he kept just brushing against your g-spot but never quite pressing fully inside. It was maddening, and you could feel your arousal growing with each passing second.

"Well, since you've been such a good girl and taken your punishment so well," he murmured, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit, "Perhaps I'll give you a little reward."

With that, he pulled away, and you bit back a groan of frustration. But then you saw him unbuttoning his pants, the sight making your mouth go dry. You couldn't tear your eyes away as he pulled his cock free, stroking himself as he looked down at you.

"Spread your legs."

His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. You obeyed immediately, parting your thighs as he moved to stand between them. His hands were on your hips, pulling you toward the edge of the desk, and you could feel the head of his cock brushing against your entrance.

"Look at me."

You did, meeting his eyes as he slowly pushed into you, inch by torturous inch. Your head fell back, and you moaned as he stretched you, filling you to the brim. He was big, and you could feel your inner walls fluttering around him, adjusting to his size.

He was watching you intently, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, flushed and needy, spread out on his desk. He began to move, pulling out slowly before thrusting back into you, his pace steady and firm. You moaned, clutching at the edge of the desk as he fucked you, the delicious stretch and friction making you dizzy with pleasure.

"You feel so good, taking my cock so well," he groaned, his grip on your hips tightening as he increased his pace. "You're such a good girl, letting me fill you up like this."

His words made a flush of heat go through you, and you clenched around him, earning a low groan from him. He was hitting all the right spots, the angle allowing him to reach deeper inside you.

"God, the things I want to do to you..." His voice was low and rough, his gaze dark with arousal. "I could keep you like this, desperate and aching for me, for hours. Just waiting to be used and filled as I see fit."

His fingers slid down your thigh, finding your clit again and making you jerk against him. You were so close, the tension coiling in your core with each thrust of his hips.

"And the next time you try to defy my orders, I'm going to tie you down and have my way with you until you're begging for release. Maybe even put a vibrator on that pretty little clit of yours and make you ride it until you're screaming my name."

You whimpered, the image his words conjured making your inner walls tighten around him. His thrusts were becoming more erratic, and you could tell he was getting close. You were right on the edge, the tension building inside you with each passing second.

"Now come."

His voice was a command, and you could no more disobey it than stop breathing. Your climax crashed over you, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. You were vaguely aware of his fingers digging into your hips as he fucked you through your orgasm, his thrusts growing frantic before he stilled, spilling inside you with a low groan.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your ragged breathing as you both came down from your high. You were still trying to catch your breath when Kunikida spoke, his voice quiet and steady.

"I hope this will serve as a sufficient reminder for you to obey my orders in the future."

You couldn't help but let out a small chuckle, the corner of your mouth twitching upward.

"Perhaps we should repeat the lesson a few more times, sir, just to be certain I remember."

His expression was unreadable, but there was a spark of amusement in his eyes as he regarded you.

"As you wish, my dear."

#bsd x reader smut #bsd smut #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs #bsd kunikida #kunikida doppo #kunikida x reader #kunikida smut #kunikida x reader smut

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jewellery-box · 1 year

Text

Wedding Dress, 1795, silk, cotton

Rare transitional gown. The bodice in keeping with earlier 18th century construction in white silk embroidered with scattered rosebuds and carnations. The apron front skirt constructed in Directoire style. Sheer stiffened white mull overskirt. Hem with rich polychrome embroidery having delicate baskets filled with rosebuds, trailing vines, tasseled bows trimmed with sterling spangles. Ground embroidered with scattered rosebuds and tiny carnations. All densely worked in tambour stitch.

This silk embroidered dress was worn by Elizabeth Bull in 1795 when she married Richard William Hart. The dress shows the transition from 18th century construction and design to 19th century styles. The embroidery design consists of scattered rosebuds, carnations, trailing vines, bows, and baskets.

Connecticut Historical Society

#18th century fashion #18th century #georgian fashion #georgian era #georgian #fashion history #historical fashion #wedding dress

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silkscream · 2 years

Text

𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞

ੈ✩ pairing: eddie munson x reader

ੈ✩ summary: a late night at lover’s lake has eddie falling head over heels for you.

ੈ✩ warnings: smut (18+), unprotected sex, drug use, choking

ੈ✩ wc: 2.6k

ੈ✩ a/n this was supposed to be a blurb um rip

eddie munson is afraid to break you. he treats you like glass, though crystal would be more accurate than anything tempered. he’s afraid to touch you, really touch you, even though you had beckoned him like a river goddess down at the lake with your soft smile and doe-eyes, and god, you’d been invading his dreams since the moment you’d arrived in hawkins.

eddie doesn’t do anything half-assed — not as hellfire club’s DM, not as corroded coffin’s guitarist, certainly not as a lover. it’s what you like about him, that underneath all that sterling silver is calloused bravery.

but now, in the dead of night at lover’s lake, he stands there shivering just a bit and refusing to break the gossamer abstraction of whatever web acts as a barrier between the two of you. he fiddles with his rings as he watches you lick the joint into place. the tension is threadbare and aching to be cut with a knife.

he’s mesmerized by the glow of the flame nearly licking your face when you light the joint. you blink back, blowing smoke at his face with a grin.

“all yours, munchkin,” you murmur.

“that’s new. y’come up with that on your own?” eddie scoffs, taking the joint from you. he thinks that maybe he needs something stronger than weed right now to calm down. he doesn’t know why it feels like every electron in his body seems to shake the closer you get to him. maybe it was yesterday’s acid trip.

he thinks briefly about what that high would be like with you, imagining the two of you peaking at the same time and seeing stars in each other’s irises. maybe one day.

“yes, actually.”

he mumbles some smartass comeback, but you don’t respond. the earth seems to stand still — even the slow current of the lake is eerily stagnant while the two of you wordlessly pass the joint back and forth. "come on eileen” comes on the radio and eddie makes a snide remark awaiting your approval or denouncement, but you’re too busy watching the reflection of the moon on the lake. within minutes, you’re pulling off your denim shorts.

“what’re you--”

“you coming or what?” you tease him as your hair billows around you, framing your face. your back is turned as you strip off your— eddie’s — hellfire club t-shirt. you’d insisted on borrowing his earlier because you wanted your own, and secretly, he wants it back just so he can keep your scent in his room. as it lands on the ground, eddie’s wide eyes trail up your bare body, which gets smaller and enveloped in darkness as you walk away from him.

“fuck it,” he curses under his breath, quick and clumsy in his movements to follow your lead. he contemplates whether or not to take off his boxers but the splash of the water makes him panic, so he runs in after you instead with them still on.

he gulps down the lump in his throat once he sees you floating on your back, eyes closed and brain shut off from the world. you look so peaceful that he doesn’t want to disturb you, but you open your eyes just to smile at him in a way that looks like more. eddie doesn’t know how to describe it, but there’s something different — maybe it’s the moonlight, perhaps it’s the weed, but he swears something shifts.

you swim over to him, splashing him on the way. in fits of giggles, the two of you play like little kids until the endorphins in eddie’s brain make him fearless. suddenly, he disposes of his inhibitions -- he can touch you again. fingertips dancing across your naked waist in retaliation, in innocent tickles, until the gesture feels almost obscene. after you calm down from your hushed, breathless laughter, eddie is hyper-aware of your naked form in front of him, obscured by the lake, but naked nonetheless.

after the upside-down, eddie’s been cautious. it’s against his very nature, but the nightmares hold him to a different standard. but the way you look at him right now makes him want to break free — he’s been good for too long now. two blinks and an exhale and he realizes that he feels lightheaded. maybe you are a river goddess after all.

you lean into him and it takes his breath away. with wide eyes, you look at him with something unfathomable. he’s about to kiss you, but you raise a finger to your lips. shhh.

rustling leaves and footsteps steal your attention from eddie for a few moments as he watches the gears in your brain turn, your ears fine-tuning from the sudden presence of another. when you look towards land, there’s nothing there.

“hawkins is definitely fucking haunted, huh?”

“it’s that damn hellfire cult,” eddie jokes. he’s relieved to hear your laugh, but part of his spirit is broken from the sudden burst in his bubble. he thinks that maybe he’s still high enough to kiss you. maybe.

but you swim to shore before he even has time to think. the humid july air licks your wet skin as you shiver, draping a blanket from eddie’s truck bed around you as you watch him come back to you. he follows your lead, covering himself up with a blanket as he plops down in the grass next to you.

“what’ve you been waiting for, eds?” you ask him slowly, refusing to make eye contact with him.

“what do you mean?”

“you know what i mean.”

it’s this time that you look at him, actually look at him, with your libertine gaze muted under coquettish lashes, mouth pulled into a deceptive, innocent pout. you know exactly what you’re doing. eddie has a hint of it, too, but he doesn’t have the usual confidence that carries his eccentric personality. no, with you, all of his walls are torn down without as much as you trying. the mere proximity of you makes his stomach drop.

he gulps. tries out that cocky attitude of his that he normally parades. he’s high enough, anyway.

“gotta be more specific, sweetheart.”

at this point, you can’t wait any longer. the moment between blinking your lashes at him and closing in the gap between you feels like an hour for him, but a split second for you. but when it happens, when he feels your soft lips on his tasting of sweetness with a hint of weed and mint, he takes the lead that you’ve been secretly prompting him of — strong, silver-adorned hands gripping your jaw as he moves into your space.

you’ve wanted him long enough to not care at how you’re perceived at this moment, which is a miracle that you’re willing to unpack at a later date. when you kiss him, you think that maybe you could consume, be the succubus for once. how beautiful he is when he’s all over your mouth.

you stumble in your balance, too lost in his lips to even be aware of your own body. when you’re conscious of yourself again, you unravel the blanket draped around your shoulders to set beneath you, leaning backward onto its soft cloth. eddie follows your lead and descends his kisses down your throat to suckle on your collarbone. he wishes he could bottle up every sound out of your mouth for later.

“was that specific enough?” you whisper, pulling away. you grin at him and it’s like the moonlight illuminates your face and nothing else. his giant brown eyes trail your bare face and your chest, and he remembers that you’re fully naked under him. and jesus christ, he’s fully naked above you besides the stupid striped blanket bunched around his hips.

“think so,” he grins.

he resumes kissing your mouth, using his teeth to nip you in a way that leaves the slightest red mark, but not enough to linger. you’re still too elusive for him to know whether or not a lovebite would be acceptable, but god knows he’d love to mark you as his.

your tiny mewls encourage him further, so he presses his lips onto your collarbone, then your chest again, until he suckles onto your nipple with eagerness. you moan in response, gripping his dark locks from his scalp as hard as you can. your eagerness makes him harder. he has to tell himself to calm down, convince himself not to completely rut against your thigh, but god, it’s so hard.

“stop playing with me,” you whine in desperation.

“isn’t that what you wanted, huh?” eddie taunts you. his anxiety has dissipated and he’s himself again, that little shit. grinning his little fangs at you before he gets your permission to devour you completely. and you thought you were the succubus.

“was just trying to get a rise outta you, eds. i need you. now,” you demand, bucking your hips upwards as you tug at his still-damp curls. “’m not gonna fuckin’ beg.”

“mm, but what if that’s what’ll get me to do anything to you?”

you let out an irritated huff. two can play at that game.

without a warning, you rise from the ground to flip eddie onto his back, switching your positions. now, you straddle him, the moonlight from the lake slightly backlighting your silhouette in a way that makes you look like a vision from heaven. it’s funny how much eddie wants you — wants you so bad that his mouth is dry from all that thirst but he realizes he’s salivating from the sight of you alone.

you’re on top of him, his naked body, and his dick is hard and raised to hit the small trail of the lining of his stomach. he doesn’t have the time to blush or be embarrassed, so he merely sets his ringed fingers on your hips while he gazes up at you.

“not so used to being controlled, munson?” you tease.

“not used to… much,” he croaks with honesty. his high makes him vulnerable around you. he doesn’t care. “’s been a while.”

“really?”

“mhm.”

“y’know, as the hotshot dungeon master and all, i thought you’d be getting the most pussy.”

“please. i barely have the time. and the time i do have has been for you. ever since you stepped foot in hawkins, i’ve wanted to make time for you.”

“shut up. not the eddie munson getting all soft for me.”

he’s about to retaliate with one of his smart-ass responses but you grind your pussy onto his hard length and it makes him shiver completely. the grip his hands have on your hips get even tighter, clutching you as if you’re about to flee.

“excited, are we?”

“hurry up before i change my mind.”

it’s a first for both of you — this spontaneous intimacy, this lust that each of you is acting upon despite the bottled-up desires lasting for months on both ends. neither of you had ever made the assumption that the two of you would hook up despite the thought lingering in the back of your minds. and tonight, it was only to become a reality.

he pushes his cock into you gently, easily losing himself once he feels how warm and tight you are while you hold back tears from the feeling of his thickness. maybe it’s because you’re high, but you think this is what it feels like — divinity in its purest form.

“you’re so beautiful,” eddie slurs into your neck when he rises his upper body while he pushes into you, stamina at a sudden all-time high.

“you are,” you breathlessly reply.

he’s mesmerized by the way you ride him, the languid shift of your hips as your cunt pulsates around his cock, gripping him like a vice. he brings his hands to cradle your lips and you shiver from the cool silver of those damn rings of his. the feeling of his fingertips dancing around your sides, rising to palm your bouncing breasts.

with a grin, you grind your body forward and moan lewdly. he can’t take it — he nearly bursts right then and there if it isn’t for the fact that he switches your positions.

even in his domination, he’s still gentle, still handling you like you’re a fallen seraphim. you huff at him and buck your hips up aggressively to report otherwise — that you want to be treated roughly, that you want to achieve a certain level of catharsis with his passion.

eddie seems to understand at least a part of it considering the depth and speed of his thrusts, ramming into you mercilessly as you cry out in pleasure.

“holy— shit—”

“eddieeee, think ‘m gonna cum soon,” you gasp as you writhe underneath him. your body feels like it’s vibrating, so you use eddie as a reminder that you’re alive. tugs to the hair, slaps to the skin.

“yeah? cum for me, sweetheart. i wanna see it all over your face.”

his comment alone makes your heart pound even faster. it’s fitting, really, considering that the moment you want to say anything, you realize how much you want to impress him. how much you adore him, how much of those hours of examining him in his quieter state during senior year physics had paid off. he really is a sweetheart, that eddie munson. how could anyone say otherwise?

“oh, god, that feels so good—”

you gasp softly, keening into the warmth of his palm on your face as you kiss his fingers, taking them knuckle-deep into your mouth before he even has the idea to ask. his jaw is slack, watching you.

with a pop, he lets go of your mouth so that he can drag his canines against the swell of your throat, arching along with the rest of your body under him. gripping the towel underneath you, your other hand tangled in his hair, you whine softly.

“yeah?” he murmurs against your skin, and you swear that the raspy sound of his voice, breathless, contributes to the blatant intoxication you have from his touch.

it’s like you’ve gone dumb, your breath rugged and head spinning. he’s lifted himself up now so that he’s supporting his body with his knees. eddie spreads your legs wider, hands gripping your thighs and pulling them upward for easier access. at this angle, you think you’re about to lose it.

there’s no sweeter sound in the world than the sound of you begging for him.

“eddie,” you whine. “oh my god—”

“you gonna let go for me?”

“y-yes. fuck, i’m gonna—”

“fuck— fuck! shit, i’m close, too,” he grunts.

he widens his eyes at the sounds coming from your mouth and suddenly his hands are over your mouth as he chuckles breathlessly.

“y’gonna wake the ghosts up, baby.”

“shut up,” you muffle underneath him. he’s barely holding you down, so you take his hand in yours and move it to your throat.

he squeezes slightly, just enough for that sweet head rush to flow through your fucked-out head. you swear you lose your vision for a second when the threshold comes. it’s tectonic, earth-shattering, the way his cock plunged into you so deeply. you nearly wail as you orgasm. how fragile you are, his poor little thing. underneath the moonlight the slickness of your skin makes you look like you’d been washed ashore.

within seconds, eddie is able to release himself with a guttural groan, his head buried into your shoulder, soft curls tickling the underside of your chin. his hair is still a bit damp, so it’s a cooling sensation. he kisses you right then, swallows up your exhales while your naked chest heaves up and down to calm down from the adrenaline.

eddie attempts to get up but his legs are slightly disoriented. he’s too drunk on your body to leave it, anyways.

he decides to bury his head into your chest, breathing heavily as he watches the swell of your belly move up and down as you breathe with him.

“do you wanna see a movie with me on saturday?”

“you’re asking me out?” you chuckle.

“obviously.”

“thought you’d never ask, munson.”

𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬!

#reposting bc it isnt in the tags sry #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things smut #joseph quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn smut #eddie munson oneshot

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yuellii · 7 months

Text

02. / Fate : SACRIFICE

werewolf wriothesley / gn reader . completely sfw . tw gore

Fontaine : DARK BLOOD ; supernatural series m.list

"Good day, Mr. Wolf."

The scent of fresh bread through the trees; he inhales the delight that steams from the linens of your wooden basket.

"Good day," says he. A forest predator, so misbehaved with the size of his body that he immediately encroaches your personal space without proper permission. But what's different about your presence, he notes, is that you don't seem to mind. There was significant lack of fear for the claws on his fingers and the fangs of his teeth, most desirably. "You seem to be out all alone again," he muses, and it's his voice that contains the low, smirking growl of an animal. "Running a delivery?"

Your simple smile is all but sinister, just as polite as it always is during these past few months you've come to pass through these woods. "To my grandmother, as usual."

His nose leads him downwards towards your hands, a scent so sweet secreting from your basket of goods.

"And what have you brought this time?" His words are slowly slurred together, low rumbles pleasantly charming with the pop out of his canines between his lips. His hand slowly lifts your wrists with the basket as the length of his nails feel cold against your skin. "It smells so sweet," he almost drools with the lick of his lips. "I'm already delighted."

You seem to hesitate. And when you reluctantly open your basket for him, he sees why. "No sweets today, good sir..." Your shifting eyes gesture to the bare loafs of bread in the basket. "No sugar. Just plain sourdough, plain wheat," you list onwards, and the wolf can't help but notice how nervous you suddenly grow; he notes this is the first you've actually shown such a physical uncomfortableness before. You shift to grab your other arm, and that's when he sees it.

"What's this?" Without warning, he dives to grasp your other arm tightly, forcing a threatened gasp from your throat. And suddenly, the sweet scent grows stronger tenfold—he catches himself before he might begin salivating. There it is: a bandage wrapped around a fresh wound at the front of your palm. Still stained red, a bright and delightfully wet color.

"Oh!" you stutter, painfully retracting your arm from the iron grip of his hold. "It was just a small mishap," you laugh sheepishly, "nothing to worry about."

He finds a lack of worry within himself for the intention you specified. No, the worry he felt was from the trickling trails of his own saliva pooling by his lower teeth; A worry that he might've just devoured you—you, and the scent of your flesh that was so sickeningly enticing, he feels his body jolt in excitement of a meal. An animalistic instinct that leaves him drunk-dazed from the mere tease of your taste. He can't ignore how delightful the sudden mental image is—of sinking his teeth into that wound of yours.

“Wriothesley?” you voice out, and he feels his stomach lunge to his throat as the scent becomes stronger once more, only to find your wounded hand placed atop his forehead. Wet. He was sweating. “Are you alright? Do you have a fever?”

Flustered, he clears his throat. "You should clean that wound of yours a bit more thoroughly." So curiously to your notice, his eyes flicker to the side—anywhere but you. “And you might want to start running along now, don’t keep your grandmother waiting,” he further advises, “before it gets too dark.”

Before you can sound out another word, he flees off into the lonesome woods.

Garden shears, so clean and so pristine: a heavy contrast to the dark shadows as he loomed over the flowerbed. “This is a lovely little cottage,” he remarks. “And the tea your grandmother serves is quite good, too.”

“See?” you laugh wholeheartedly, hands clamping around rubber to cut lingering wilted roses away with sterling silver. Both your gazes cast downwards, and there was a stream of unwanted thoughts clouding his head. “I told you, she wouldn’t be scared of you.” The reassurance spills easy from your mouth, and he can only force himself to respond positively through a hum.

He jokes, “Does that mean I’m accepted into the family?”

You playfully bump his arm, and that’s when it happens—that smell, once again. Much more powerful this time, like the smell of freshly cut meat that was so overpowering, still raw with trickling blood that his tongue just yearns to wrap around. So sickening, he could feel the insides of his stomach writhe and clench just for a bite. And when he looks down just to see that you’ve accidentally cut yourself with the gardening shears, his instincts as a wolf almost collapses his sense of stability.

Your skin. It looks delicious running with blood. The feeling of his teeth ripping you apart into pieces is just within reach. His mouth feels dry in a way it craves for your flavor, and he does not realize he’s already grabbed you until the scent is so overpoweringly close that his saliva trickled down at the bottom of his chin.

A creature so disgustingly hungry for meat; he only snaps out of his daze when sounds of whimpers and fear emit from your body.

And yet, he can’t help but feel even more enticed. The sounds of your squeals, the fear woven into your features—he feels more starved by your horror-stricken expression to devour your body whole in a single bite.

“Wriothesley…” you choke out to him. The shakiness in your voice holds a fear you’ve never shown for him before, but perhaps fear was how it should be between a human and a wolf. “That really hurts,” you stuttered to him, “Please, let me go.”

He’s trembling. He, the big bad scary wolf, was trembling in place as he was merely moments away from devouring you. Your arm was now littered in new cuts, all from his nails digging deep into the skin of your arm to rip several more wounds. Above the cut from the shears, and his breathing blew right to your wrist. Had he let go, the limbs of your very soul would have been shredded between his teeth by now.

“Listen to me,” he says, voice a low whisper through seethed canines; and through your horrified tears, you see his eyes are pleading, begging you like a chained dog running feral on disobedience. “Please.” His other hand reaches down to meet yours—clutching desperately the gardening shears in your hand. Silver, completely poisonously deadly to werewolves. “Please, kill me.”

You stay silent, completely stunned to move in his grasp. Not when his nails still gashed holes of crescents into your arm.

“Please,” he further prayed, his mutters close to something of a growl as his lips were shaking, even as they leaned in to kiss the bleeding gash of your hand. One taste of you, just one. But his lips. They stung. “My mind is twisted. I fear I might suffocate the longer I’m with you.” His grip around the gardening shears is loose and rigid, and yet he holds them right up for you, urging you to take them. He practically pushes it to your chest, pressing the only form of a weapon you may have against him. He repeats, “Save me.”

Please, kill me.

Looking down at you with his mouth against your wound, lips tinted in your own blood that he laps up hungrily with his tongue, you realize this is the first time you really saw him as what he truly was: a feral animal.

“Or else fate will guide me to devour you whole.”

Blood moon, the cottage door is wide open.

“…Grandmother?”

The smell of iron hits your nose so sharply, yet the light sounds of metal rumbling and clothes shuffling were not enough to turn you away. No, your feet did not allow you to make such drastic movements in the suspense of the night, not when one movement may alert the inside presences.

But you find very quickly you do not need such caution. Because when you creek the door open even further…

Moonlight fails to illuminate the glowing eyes at the corner of the room.

But what you see in the darkness of the house was an entanglement of bitten limbs and clothing scattered into a corner pile on the ground, severed like the chew toy meal of a starving dog. And above it all glowed a pair of familiar eyes so wide and bloodshot, rimmed with the red crusted veins and tears of an animal. The filth around his mouth, the heavy breaths he released through the grotesque bits and pieces of breathed bloodied flesh stuck between his teeth. All with no mercy as strings of organs fell from his lips to his chin. So sickening, the smell of his iron breath in the air—and you only look away for a second to gag vomit back down your throat.

There is an animalistic instinct in his eyes that deadlocks you into place, lacking its typical playful compassion and instead showing the layers of insatiable hunger for human flesh. His breathing is still ragged upon his look of shock, like a deer caught in bright lights.

It’s far too late when you notice he’s drooling. Since the moment you stepped in, it was only his cravings that stunned him silent; you were so near now, so close: the final dessert to his meal. You couldn’t kill a man like him. But a monster could consume the likes of you. And it was only a rush of wind until the back of your head slammed down against the bloodstained wood of the floor, his body a heavy weight atop your own.

He was smiling. Smiling so widely that his tongue jutted out to lick his lips just at the sight of you trapped under him. His eyes, looking at you like another scrap of food in the wilderness.

But the first thing you felt before the rip of barred teeth, was indeed the salty droplets of tears that fell atop your skin.

Fontaine : DARK BLOOD ; supernatural series m.list

#🗡️ : Fontaine — DRK BLD #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley imagines #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x gender neutral reader

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hellebore-petall · 2 years

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I got a bunch of mini squishmallows for my birthday, which MEANS I can finally have one squishmallow named for each UC arc! Please note these squishmallows are not named because of liking the characters any more than the others that arc, but more about which ones I find ones who's names fit!

Arc 1 (and 7) - Dereb'soloth

Arc 2 - Lyndell Sterling

Arc 3 - Fey Moss

Arc 4 (one of the new ones!!!) - Quinn [REDACTED]

Arc 5 (Another new one!!!) - Omen Haxolpenny

Arc 6 - Kipp Tupper

Arc 8 (Another birthday one!!!) - Sybilla Eirick

And, I now have 6 more that I can keep in a backlog for future arcs, unless of course, I get inspired from characters in other pieces of media. I have a couple Critical Role Squishmallows, and some with names I just thought were cute!

I'm excited to see what names these little ones end up with!!!

#unprepared casters #squishmallows #dragons in dungeons #wizards off the coast #dereb'soloth #lovejoy's four #lyndell sterling #gonna raise hell #fey moss #orb is life #quinn [redacted]#the glacerian trail #kipp tupper #the king is dead #sybilla eirick #petall ponderings

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tinycoded360 · 25 days

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Sterling household-Chapter 1- Cozy

Milton Borrowfield crept within the walls of the giant household. It was dark and late in the evening, but to borrowers, this was prime time. Unlike their bigger counterparts, borrowers slept during the day and went about their night as if it were day.

"Papa!" came a small voice. Milton turned to see his daughter Agnes emerging from one of the side passageways leading to the bedroom quarters for the children, a cozy nook lined with scraps of fabric and down feathers. She ran to give him a quick hug.

"Where are you off to?" she asked.

"I've got to check our supplies. Winter will be here before we know it." Milton patted her shoulder.

Agnes nodded seriously. She knew how hard it was for borrower families like theirs to stay warm and fed during the cold months.

Milton headed further down the winding passageways within the human’s home, past the tiny nook containing their kitchen where his wife Cassia was boiling thimblefuls of tea. He gave her a wink as he passed. She blew him a kiss in return.

"Be safe, my love," she said.

He lifted a loose bit of wallpaper and slipped behind it into their pantry. It was neatly organized but sparse. They were running low on everything. Milton sighed. He would have to take more risks if he wanted his family to survive the winter. Although some things were easy to borrow in a human house, getting what they needed was always risky. The human was very neat and clean. This made it harder to get into the food supplies; the human Sterling was very good at keeping his food stored and sealed. The only saving grace was that the human was oblivious; Milton had some very close calls before, where he swore he was done for. In the warmer months, Milton and his family took advantage of the outdoors and got what they needed from the human’s garden. But as winter approaches, it would be harder to borrow food from the human, the risk of being seen would increase. But it would be worth keeping his dear Cassia and their children happy, healthy, and cozy.

Milton emerged from the pantry, brows furrowed with concern. His youngest, Finn, waddled over to him, arms raised expectantly.

"Uppy, Papa!" the four-year-old boy demanded.

Milton smiled and swept Finn into his arms. At least his children were still blissfully unaware of their precarious situation.

He carried Finn into the kitchen, where Cassia ladled hot tea into thimble cups. She glanced at Milton knowingly.

"I told you, we needed more, what’s the damage?" she asked.

Milton nodded. "We've got enough for maybe another week or two. After that..."

He trailed off, not wanting to upset Finn. The boy squirmed out of his arms and scurried off to play with his siblings.

Cassia stepped closer and put a hand on Milton's shoulder. "We'll figure something out. We always do."

"But winter is nearly here. I don't know if I can provide everything; we must keep the children warm and healthy. Especially with the human spending more time indoors now."

Cassia nodded, her expression serious but unafraid. "It won't be easy. But we've prepared as best we can, and we still have a couple of months left. And I have faith in you, my love. Your cleverness has gotten us through tough times before."

Milton pulled his wife close.

Cassia smiled up at him, pride and trust shining in her eyes. "Now come, the tea is getting cold."

Milton's mind raced as he held Cassia's hand, sipping tea and eating breakfast with his family. The bitter cold of winter was nearly upon them, and the thought of his children suffering from frigid temperatures twisted his gut. It wouldn’t be so bad if the human turned up the temperature in the house, but the human seemed content to only use blankets. And every time Milton tried to change the temperature on the thermostat, the human would turn it back down, grumbling about broken machines and raising costs, whatever that meant.

When the lights in the giant's home went dark tonight, Milton would make his move. He would creep through the hidden passageways, scurry across the massive floor, and climb into the giant's bedroom. There, he would take what he desperately needed - a pair of the thick, woolen socks the giant wore to bed each night. The giant had so many pairs that he wouldn’t miss these.

It was terribly risky, but he pushed down his fear. For his children, he would brave anything. He met Cassia's eyes, seeing his own steely resolve reflected back. She knew what he planned to do and had faith in him. Her quiet strength gave him courage.

When the moment came, Milton hugged each of his children tightly.

"Be good for your mother," he said. "I'll be back before you go to bed."

Then, with a final kiss for Cassia, he slipped into the darkness. His footfalls made no sound as he navigated the secret paths through the walls. Upstairs, he crept beneath the giant's door and scanned the massive room. His heart pounding, Milton scurried directly to the dresser, climbed up the side, he was in luck the drawer was open, enough for him to wiggle into, he then dove into the sock drawer.

Milton's nose twitched as he burrowed into the pile of fuzzy socks. They were soft and warm - exactly what his family needed to make it through the harsh winter. Carefully, he selected two pairs and rolled them up.

Just then, the floor began to shake as the giant lumbered into the bedroom. Milton's blood turned to ice. He dove under the piles of socks just in time as the dresser drawer slid open. A massive hand reached in, nearly grabbing Milton as it rummaged around.

Milton held perfectly still, clutching the socks close. After what felt like an eternity, the giant removed his hand and moved to slide the drawer shut. The giant cursed as the drawer snagged, not closing all the way. Milton heard the deep rumbled of the human’s voice as he muttered about getting the ‘dam drawer fixed’. Milton sagged with relief, then pricked his ears up. The giant was still in the room - he could hear its thunderous footsteps.

Ever so slowly, Milton peeked out from his hiding spot. He crawled to the opening of the drawer, peeking out. He would have to be quick and clever to return to his family undetected.

Milton watched as Sterling opened his book, the pages crinkling loudly in the quiet room. Milton cursed his luck and the humans’ love for his books. He’d have to wait until the human got tired and went to bed.

After what felt like an eternity, Sterling finally closed his book and yawned loudly. Milton stayed perfectly still as he watched the human get ready for bed.

*****

Milton's heart pounded as he watched the giant human stir in his sleep. This was his chance - he had to make a run for it before Sterling woke up.

With nimble feet, Milton scurried across the top of the dresser; he held his breath as he darted behind a framed photo, peering around the edge. The giant let out a rumbling snore, his mountainous chest rising and falling.

Milton made his move, scrambling down the leg of the dresser and onto the carpeted floor. He was so close - just a few more feet and he'd be safe in the walls.

Suddenly, the giant rolled over with a groan. Milton froze, pressing himself flat against the floor. Holding perfectly still, he watched as one massive eye fluttered open, scanning the room. Milton didn't dare breathe.

After a few tense moments, the giant's eyes drifted shut once more. Milton sagged with relief. He was about to get up when a shadow fell over him. Milton froze, eyes widening. Whiskers! The cat had spotted him from her perch on the windowsill. She leapt down, sharp claws clicking on the hardwood floors as she prowled towards Milton.

Thinking fast, he scrambled as fast as he could for the baseboard. He squeezed through the crack and into the dark safety of the walls, his heart hammering against his tiny ribs.

Whiskers released a frustrated mewl and tried to reach her paw after him. Milton scooted back out of her reach, his heart hammering.

Clutching his prize, Milton hurried home, eager to present the socks to his beloved Cassia and their children.

Milton hurried through the narrow passages within the walls, retracing the steps back to his family's cozy home.

Rounding a corner, he spotted a familiar knot in the wood paneling and knew he was close. "Cassia!" he called softly. "Children! I have returned!"

"Papa, you're back!" little Finn cried, rushing to hug Milton's leg.

Milton picked Finn up and spun him around. "That's right, my boy. And look what I brought for you." He held up the fuzzy socks.

"Oh, they're wonderful!" said Lila, running her hands over the soft material.

"With these, we can make some cozy little beds," Milton said. "Now, let's get to work. Agnes, Pippin - you two gather up all the cotton and fabric scraps you can find."

The older children scurried off, eager to help.

Soon, they were all busy at work. Pippin and Agnes returned, arms loaded with stuffing and fabric pieces. Cassia began sewing blankets.

Finn toddled around, trying to hand out supplies. "I help too!" he said. Milton ruffled Finn's hair.

"That you do, son."

They worked together, creating cozy little beds from the odds and ends available. The children were vibrating with excitement.

Finally, the beds were ready. The family gathered around to admire their handiwork.

The children cheered and immediately burrowed into their new beds. Sighs of contentment echoed around the room.

Milton and Cassia smiled at each other. It filled their hearts with joy to see their family safe, happy, and comfortable once more.

Cassia settled into the cozy blanket nest she had made, pulling Lila close. The little girl snuggled against her mother's chest, yawning.

"Tell me a story, Mama," Lila murmured.

Cassia stroked her daughter's hair. "Hmm, let's see. Once upon a time, there was a brave borrower named Lila..."

As Cassia wove a tale of adventure for Lila, Milton sat with Pippin and Agnes on their beds.

"Did the giant human almost squash you, Papa?" Pippin asked, his eyes wide.

Milton chuckled. "Oh, he came close a few times. But I was too quick for him!"

"Wow," Agnes breathed. She fingered the soft sock that served as her pillow. "It must have been so scary in the big house."

"It was, at first," Milton admitted. "But then I remembered how cold you all get at night. So I kept going, as quiet as a mouse."

"Tell us more!" Pippin begged. The two leaned forward eagerly.

Smiling, Milton regaled them with the tale of his mission, embellishing some details to make it more thrilling. The children gasped and cheered at all the right moments.

Milton finished his story, concluding with a dramatic escape through a mouse hole as Whiskers' giant paw swiped at him.

"You're the bravest borrower ever!" Agnes declared.

Milton chuckled. "Well, one day, that will be you too."

He tucked the blankets snugly around them. Pippin let out a huge yawn.

"I think it's time for my little mice to sleep," Milton said fondly. He bent down to kiss each of their foreheads.

As the children's eyes fluttered closed, Cassia came over and squeezed Milton's hand, leaning over and giving him a tender kiss.

Author Note: This was initially made for last year's October prompt word list. I made an outline for many keywords, but I never got around to flushing it out. I greatly admire anyone who can write a short story in a day. I can't do it, but you're amazing if you can. This one prompt was 'Cozy'. You'll be seeing more of the Sterling household. These characters I made specifically for the prompt challenge because I find it hard to keep coming up with character names, lol.

#g/t #g/t writing #giant/tiny #g/t community #g/t writers #original work #borrowers #giant tiny #gt fluff #gt community

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