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PART 1 - PART 2 - PART 3 (NSFW) - PART 4 - PART 5 (NSFW) - PART 6 - PART 7 (NSFW) - PART 8 (NSFW)
Content Warning: Description of death, blood, pregnancy
Something was off.
The daily walk home from the shop felt like a marathon, everything just felt so exhausting lately. This earned many concerned glances from Khargaad as the two of you reached the end of the season’s harvest. You spent many a moment slumped on your knees, hands folded in your lap.
“You haven’t seemed yourself lately.” He tilted his canteen to your lips, letting you take a sip of his water. You wiped your brow, “I know, I’m just… so tired all the time.”
“Hmmm...” He stroked the back of your head, ignoring how sweaty and gross you were from working, “Let’s finish up for today, does that sound good?”
You nodded weakly, shouting no protest as he scooped you up in his arms. Before you knew it you were sitting in the grass outside of his tent. You almost fell asleep right there before you heard the lighting of a fire, and sloshing of water from the creek. You opened your eyes, seeing him filling a large washbasin.
Before long steam rose from the surface of the basin and you felt hands pulling at the strings of your tunic. “Let me take care of this.” Khargaad’s voice cooed in that special way that could melt you. He undressed you and led you by your hand to the basin, letting you step in to the deliciously hot water before undressing himself. He settled behind you in the water, pulling you onto his lap.
There was nothing sexual or suggestive about the way his touch landed on your skin. Just tender and caring. He lathered you in soap and massaged your muscles, eventually letting you sink your back into his chest. He rested one hand on your tummy, rubbing therapeutic circles into you.
“Maybe you should take it easier?” He leaned down to kiss your shoulder. You huffed, “I’ll be alright.”
“Okay…” His tone did not sound entirely confident in your statement, but he accepted it nonetheless. That night he walked you home, clothed in his shirt that fit you like a dress. Tucked into bed, you could hear him and your mother chatting outside but their words were undecipherable.
-
It wasn’t just you that was off now. Every day of the following week you found your mother waking up before you to making breakfast.
“Oh my darling, I don’t want to hear it. Sleep in and get some rest.”
Khargaad now consistently walked you to and from the town square, making sure to come and give you a kiss on the cheek in the mornings before leaving to hunt.
Today, you were clearing out a junk closet in the shop, too busy to hear the door open behind you.
“Now this really is low, y/n.”
You hadn’t heard that voice in ages. Not since Khargaad had scared Milo out of your shop all those weeks ago. You shot up, looking behind you to see Milo with a rather sickened look on his face.
“Surely you haven’t been fucking that orc?”
You clenched your fists, wrapping a tighter grip on the pocket knife you already had in your hand. “Get the fuck out of my shop.”
“Won’t be yours for long. You won’t make it through winter.”
“Guess you’re right because we’ll be long gone by then.” You retorted with a cocky confidence.
“Excuse me?” His eyes narrowed.
Perhaps you should shut your big mouth now. “Nothing.” Your voice wavered unconvincingly. He took a step towards you.
“No, not nothing. You have something planned. You and that mother of yours. Maybe even that big stupid orc, whore.”
You raised the knife threateningly, “Milo, you need to leave now.” You tried your best to put on an air of confidence, but you had quite possibly put all of the plans in jeopardy. Milo lacked the honor and dignity which would stop a regular person from doing a terrible thing in the name of vengeance.
He huffed, turning around to leave. On his way out, he slammed the door with such force that it shattered a pane of glass on the door. You turned your head just slightly, seeing Khargaad standing on the other end of the square. It seemed as if he had just returned from his hunt to catch Milo storming out, and based on his heaving shoulders he was fuming.
It was a tense walk home.
“Are you… angry with me?” You were bewildered by his demeanor. He stopped in his tracks, getting down on one knee to get on your level.
“No. No no no. How… could I be angry with you?” He was so sweet, so calm. You sighed, cupping his cheek, “You’re just so tense, so angry-“
“I’m scared, y/n.” He cut you off. You didn’t like seeing him like this. He was shaking a little bit, “I’m scared of him. Before I met you, we happened to frequent the same taverns every now and then. I’ve heard him say things that frighten me. I don’t think he would hesitate to hurt you or your mother.”
You knew this just as well as he did. Khargaad had brought his hand up to your waist, thumbing over your stomach. It seemed soothing to him.
“We need to develop a plan. Now.” You pulled on him to follow you. The sooner you were out of town the better, and didn’t like the idea of Milo possibly being clued in on that fact.
-
“Within the next two weeks, at the very least.” Your mother proclaimed at the dining table. Khargaad nodded, crossing his arms satisfiedly. You just sat there dumbfounded.
“I’m sorry. two weeks? Why does it seem like you two had this worked out before we even sat down!”
They were shooting nervous glances at each other.
“Well-“
“You've-“
They had both started at the same time, stumbling over each other’s words. There was something going on. You shot up, pointing two accusatory fingers at them, “Ma! You start first. Then Khargaad. Go.”
The woman stared down at her hands twiddling her thumbs, “Well… what I was going to say was… you sure you’ve been feeling alright lately sweetheart?” You stood there baffled, did they think you were about to be on your deathbed or something? Khargaad breathed out,
“You’ve missed a period.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but as you wracked your brain you realized, by the Gods, the orc was right. You disregarded the fact that he had seemingly been tracking your cycles in secret. A lot of things began making sense as the reality set in.
How daft did you have to be for these two to figure out you were pregnant before your own self. The bottom of your lip quivered as you tried to figure out a rational response to the situation. Maybe… maybe it was just a random fluke in your cycle. Maybe it was something else. This wasn’t a part of the plan. You hadn’t accounted for a baby at all.
A warm hand slipped around yours. Khargaad was staring at you with unbridled adoration, tears running down his face. You were so lost in thought, you hadn’t even noticed your mother leave the room.
“Talk to me.” His voice was shaking, it almost sounded like a plea. As if waiting for you to break your silence on this was his own personal form of torture.
“I- I- What are we going to-“ The words tried to clumsily fall from your lips. You lifted the edge of your tunic, staring down at the bare stomach, and sure enough there was the slight bump that hadn’t eased on its own. It was so subtle that you had been writing it off as merely bloat. But now, you looked down and couldn’t see it any other way.
“Oh my Gods.” You began to cry a confusing mixture of happy and scared tears. Clearly the pull-out method was not entirely dependable. You looked back at your lover, still with tears streaming down his own face.
“When I realized you might be… oh merciful gods I was terrified too.” He laughed weakly, squeezing your hand, “I can’t speak on how you must be feeling right now. But…” He sniffled, “…You’re not alone.”
It started with a low chuckle, then you broke into a full laugh. Khargaad looked at you, bewildered, as if maybe this was the (giant) straw that broke the camels back.
“We need to leave. Not even in two weeks. In one week. In a couple days. I need to close up the shop, we need to pack-“ You were rambling frantically.
“So… so you want to keep it?”
You almost choked on your own words, looking down at Khargaad who was still sitting in his chair. He was afraid to admit how thrilled he was, his worst fear was making you feel pressured by his own feelings. After all, it was your decision in the end.
“Oh Khargaad,” you took his hand and placed it on your stomach, “all I’m thinking is what kinda person they’re gonna be. Will they be an artist? A hunter? An explorer?”
He giggled through his tears, pulling you close to nuzzle his head into your stomach. The dull ends of his tucks grazed over your skin. “Whoever they may be, they will know the overwhelming love of their mother and father.”
This was surreal. You had been so caught up dealing with life, the thought of a baby was completely foreign to you. Yet here you were, being confronted by the idea in the most literal way possible. Then a thought struck you.
“Khargaad, we’re going to your home, right?”
He nodded, still practically purring into your stomach like a cat. “They won’t be… angry that you’re with a human?” He shook his head, “‘Course not, my brother Vakgar’s been with his husband Thierry for six years now. We love that guy.” His voice was muffled into your skin.
You sighed, coming down from the emotional high of this entire situation. “We’ll need a wagon, a big one. Probably one? No, two strong draft horses. And then-“ your mind was already picking up from where it left off, you scrambled for a piece of paper and quill to write it all down.
“Hush my love. Me and your Ma have it handled. Just say the word and we can be packed and ready in three days.”
“Well consider this the word. Let’s go. I… don’t want to stay around and wait for it to start showing.” He knew you were talking about Milo. The last thing you all needed was him finding out about this.
“Yes we agree. Definitely.” Khargaad replied, making his way to the door. “Will you need to go back into town again?” It was clear he wanted the answer to be no, but he would be disappointed unfortunately. “Just one more day.” You responded with a sorry look in your eyes. The two of you came to a compromise, you would do what you needed to do for that day, only if you didn't leave his sight for even on second. And you could only go into town once the lot of you were good and ready to leave. In case you needed to make a run for it.
He marched over to you, pulling you into a long deep kiss.
He pulled away, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a gold chain. Hanging from it was an engraved gold ring.
“I’ve been holding on to this for… uhm. Hehe. I bought it a couple weeks ago. And I thought… I thought had gotten a good fit but then I slipped it on your finger in your sleep and it was like hilariously large and then all of this started and I didn’t want you to think I was only doing this because you’re pregnant. I was always going to-“
You cut him off with a giggle, letting the ring fall into the palm of your hand.
“Yes, I’ll marry you Khargaad.”
-
The next three days felt like a whirlwind. Khargaad FINALLY had a valid excuse to stop you from lifting heavy things and he was being entirely greedy about it.
“Don’t over-exert yourself love.”
You were carrying a basket of jars, probably not more than 15 pounds. You rolled your eyes playfully, “I can’t just sit around-“
He gently took the basket out of your hands, kissing you atop the head, “Now, this evening we’re gonna be in and out, as fast as possible right?”
You nodded, cradling your stomach. With a dress on it as impossible to notice.
As the sun began to set, Khargaad followed you into town. All you needed to do was put your remaining merchandise outside the door, writing a sign that said “free, please take.” It wasn’t much anyways, you could live without the small amount of coin you were gonna lose.
With the job done, the two of you hurried off. The path back to your cottage was a long dirt road, and eventually he just scooped you into his arms to pick up the pace. As a skilled hunter, Khargaad was very aware as to how vulnerable the two of you were right now.
And then he heard it. A clicking noise, frighteningly similar to the mechanical sound of someone loading a crossbow. Most would have never been able to distinguish the difference between this noise and any other normal forest sound.
He was reacting before you could register the sound of something whizzing through the air. You screamed, feeling yourself falling on your ass in the dirt. Khargaad clenched his shoulder, his dark thick blood beginning to bubble through his fingers. The two of you reeled around, seeing Milo standing in the middle of the path struggling to reload his crossbow.
The following moment which occurred felt like slow motion. Like one of those nightmares where no matter how hard you run, you can’t get your feet to move faster than a snail pace.
Khargaad hadn’t been directly hit, but the thick iron arrow from Milo’s weapon had grazed him leaving a nasty gash in his shoulder. The orc had a frenzied look in his eyes, like he was stuck in some sort of waking paralysis, unable to move his feet.
You looked back at Milo, still struggling and now yelling curses, and back to the serrated bowie knife Khargaad always kept on his waist.
As the classic saying goes: kill or be killed.
-
There were things you were always going to remember about this night, like the whites of Milo’s eyes as you hurled the knife into his thin sinewy neck, the heat of his blood spurting on your face, the taste of iron when it got into your mouth. His strangled final breaths, understanding leaving his eyes.
You were yanking Khargaad in a jog behind you, seeing the lights of the cottage ahead. The covered wagon was set to go, horses bridled. You thanked the Gods for his foresight to insist on having everything ready like this. Your mother was standing outside, lantern in hand. She nearly fainted when the two of you were close enough for her to register the scene.
“You’re bleeding!”
“He is.” You insisted, climbing into the back, “Ma, you need to take the reigns, we need to go. Now.”
She snapped her senses, clambering onto the front and balling her fists around the leather. If there were two things you could thank your father for, it was teaching your mother how to steer a horse-drawn wagon, and the years of practice you got out of dressing his wounds after bar fights. You pulled Khargaad into the back, drawing the folds closed and hanging the lantern above the two of you. The bottles and supplies in your first aid kit glinted menacingly
“This will be unpleasant, my love. I’m sorry.”
@reads-stuff-quietly @loo-looland @sluttygirl123 @beaniebaneenie @blushycadaver @sunndust @whyiamadegenerate @the-attic-of-porcelain @freakyotaku059-blog @youknowits-derea @thoughts-of-bear-undercovers @allthecraftandthings @gruffle1 @kennedyabraxas123 @queenies1x1 @jellyslimesofficial @jasminedragoon @rangoismyname @the-queen-of-sorrows @the-dumber-scaramouche @heddaloddafun @swimmingrascalbatdragon @hellodollstuff @wingedghostpepper @pistachioinfernal @honeybaegle @sammehshark @dij-ology @forgemotherkestrel @wafflefries786 @sadsilver @shellyyyyy0000 @thecreativeblueberry-blog @lovingbadguys
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Happy Charbee Anniversary! Have some Earthspark spicy art.
You can see the full, uncensored view over on:
Blue Sky
PillowFort
AO3
I just imagine that every time they interface there's still that sense of awe they feel that they can connect this way despite being so different.
Check out other works created for this year's Charbee Week posted on the AO3 collection!
And works from Charbee Anniversaries past!
Charbee Discord.
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Spicy alert!
Belle x Beast warming up by the fireplace. For last month's patron requests.
Full, uncensored view exclusively on Patreon!
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Strictly Pleasure
orc x human age gap paranormal romance 24 of ?
Summary: An awkward fresh-out-of-a-relationship woman and an orc that owns a sex store enter an adult theater together. She, intent on pushing her own boundaries. He, just looking to give her some sense of safety. Well, that and he wouldn't complain about having a bit of fun himself.
After they inevitably get interrupted, Jek deals with the problem while Heidi flees. Resigned, he believes he'll never see her again.
Thus begins Jek and Heidi's sporadic interactions until, eventually, they find themselves fumbling around each other daily at the very place it started: Strictly Pleasure.
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
📚 Read on Tumblr
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14 - Part 15 - Part 16 - Part 17 - Part 18 - Part 19 - Part 20 - Part 21 - Part 22 - Part 23 - Part 24 - Part 25 - Part 26 - Part 27 - Part 28 (Coming Soon)
📙 Read on WattPad
🎨 Supplemental Art
Wattpad Cover
Young Jek
FormerRockLegend.exe Has Stopped Working
If you like my content, please consider supporting me on:
*:・゚✧ Patreon or Ko-Fi *:・゚✧
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He’s staring.
No, he’s just looking at the jury as a whole. There’s eleven other people sitting with you, why would he be staring at you?
No, wait. He’s definitely staring at you. That’s some deep eye contact.
God, why was the defendant staring at you? You don’t even know him, you’re just doing your legal civilian duties. You didn’t even want to be here at first, you had to miss three days of work for this, but the case was at least interesting enough to keep your attention.
Kylo Ren was charged with more things than you could name off of the top of your head.
And you were playing a role in the decision that slapped him with a guilty verdict.
This man, a total and complete stranger, was going to prison for the rest of his life. A once-very powerful CEO with supposed ties to multiple crime syndicates.
“Mr. Ren.”
The judge called his name for a third time to get his attention, his hard stare finally breaking off of you. You felt a weight on your chest lift that you hadn’t even realized was there.
You would say you were relieved when the trial finally ended and you were dismissed along with your peers, but as the days and weeks followed, you noticed that things started to feel…off.
Mysterious men you didn’t recognize, staring at you across cafes or bookstores you’d often frequent, their phones close to their ears as they spoke too softly to someone for you to hear.
Belongings in your apartment seeming misplaced or looking tampered with.
You knew you weren’t crazy when your extra set of keys went missing from your bedside drawer.
Interesting.
You changed your locks and went out less just to be on the safe side, but you still couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
Something inside of you knew this was just the beginning.
Especially when it was announced on national television that Kylo Ren’s conviction was suddenly overturned.
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sorry my most whacked out headcanon is that lieutenant simon "ghost" riley of 141 taskforce, formerly 22nd SAS regiment, has deeply british dedication to the late princess diana and therefore an even deeper parasocial beef with prince phillip charles.
oh, he's the king now? he ain't the king. Not To Simon. That Man Killed The People's Princess.
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Hi coco!
Can you do a one shot about a younger actress reader?
There is a tiktok going viral about her saying that she likes older men and another where she is looking at marshall at an event with "fuck me eyes"?
Reader freaks out when marshall just slides into her dms but later they are spotted together at the paparazzi?
I just find it cute and awkward 💀
DADDY’S SPAGHETTI 🍝
Eminem x Young Actress Reader
Synopsis : You are a young actress whose crush on Eminem becomes public. You are mortified about it… until he slides in your DMs.
Author’s Note : I absolutely LOVED this request, I had to give it a go ❤️. I was inspired and I swear I never wrote anything that quickly. It is short and sweet and I hope you enjoy it. ☺️
You thought you were done being publicly embarrassed. Yet, life was proving you wrong. As an actress who had her start in her teenage years, you weren’t a stranger to embarrassment. From awkward casting calls to stupid deaths on TV, it was practically part of the job. However, as your career evolved, you thought it would go away. After all, you were now in a better position, able to choose the projects you were involved in and you had garnered the respect from your peers and the industry. Even the media had become more kind towards you. In a matter of years, you had gone from the awkward teen movie star to well-respected actress, and you were able to look back fondly to your early years. You even joked about how awkward you were, back then. The last thing you expected was for it to start all over again.
You were walking the red carpet for the premiere of your latest movie, your biggest project to date. It was truly the highlight of your career : a role created specifically for you, a movie directed by someone you admired, a beautiful story told on the big screen… You had gotten your fair share of praise in the past, but you knew this was going to be your « big break ». Behind the scenes, everyone had praised your performance and told you it was « Oscars material ». You didn’t know if that was true or not, but you were on cloud nine nonetheless. When you walked the red carpet at the premiere, in a custom Elie Saab gown, everything felt right and you weren’t even stressed out when you answered the questions of a few journalists present.
You look truly amazing, tonight, one commented. Who are you wearing ?
Thank you ! This is a custom Elie Saab, I feel like a princess. I sort of had to dress up for this beautiful event, you replied as you tried to shift the focus on the movie.
This is your biggest role to date, another said. How do you feel about the movie ? Have you seen it ?
I’ve seen bits and pieces. But I’m going to discover the whole thing tonight, you said with excitement. I’m very confident. Filming with such a director was an honor and I know that the result will be great. I can’t wait for everyone to see it !
One thing that everybody is really excited about is the soundtrack, too, a third journalist chimed in. Eminem was involved. Have you heard the theme song yet ?
I haven’t, you said. But it’s Eminem so I know it’s going to be absolutely fantastic ! I can’t wait to hear it !
You sound like you like his work. Have the two of you met ? They asked.
Oh, I’m his biggest fan, you said with a huge smile. His music’s the soundtrack to my life ! But no, I haven’t met him…
Tonight’s your chance, they joked. He is over there.
They pointed to him and Eminem was, indeed, a few feet away from you. He had been a celebrity crush of yours for years and you were absolutely starstruck. He was even more attractive than in pictures ! You couldn’t help but stare. This man was oozing charisma and commanding attention. You didn’t even notice that you were looking at him with « fuck me » eyes and licking your lips. For a brief instant, you completely forgot where you were, until you heard your name being called, signaling that you had to keep walking and enter the screening room. That night, you didn’t get a chance to meet your idol, though. As the lead of the movie, people kept on coming over to you and talking to you. It was probably for the best, too. You had been starstruck enough on the red carpet ad you did not trust yourself to have a pleasant exchange with him.
Of course, the video of you thirsting over Eminem went viral. It would have been kind of cute if other clips hadn’t surfaced. There were videos from years ago, of you talking about having a crush on him - God, you really didn’t have a filter, back then - and especially one interview where you were candid about being attracted by older men.
What’s your type when it comes to men and dating ? The journalist asked.
I like mature, older men, you said candidly. I’m not really attracted to people my age.
Any physical features you’re attracted to ?
Oh, it’s typical, you know, you giggled. Dark hair, blue eyes… I like a nice beard, too.
So basically… Eminem ? The interviewer playfully asked.
Oooof… You have no idea, you replied with a grin.
Isn’t he… Old enough to be your Dad, though ?
Let’s just say I wouldn’t mind calling Marshall Mathers Daddy, you giggled.
At the time, this interview didn’t make much noise. It was for an indie podcast and, seeing as you weren’t too famous at the time, it sort of flew under the radar. It was kind of a harmless joke and a nod to your thirst for him, which all your friends were very much aware of. However, the video resurfaced after the viral red carpet clip, and people were quick to make edits, soberly titled « Y/N thirsting over Eminem over the years ». Your friends jokingly forwarded them to you and you know they were being playful, but to you, it was everything but fun. You were absolutely mortified. Having a crush on him was one thing, but there was a literal video of you staring at him like you were in heat. So much for being a classy movie star…
The nail in the coffin came when Marshall was interviewed and asked to react to the video of you thirsting over him. He seemed genuinely surprised, leading to think that he wasn’t aware of the clip before the interview. All in all, he didn’t say much, he just described the whole thing as « flattering » and quickly went on to praise your performance in the movie : « We didn’t actually meet, but I saw the movie, which I worked on the soundtrack for, and she is really amazing in it. Really talented. ». Thank God, he didn’t add to your embarrassment. Your friends were going crazy over this « Come on, Y/N, he said he was flattered and that you’re talented ! That’s cute ! You should DM him or something », they encouraged you. However, you didn’t. He was clearly just being classy and not publicly embarrassing you - you did that on your own anyway.
A few days later, however, you had the biggest surprise of your life : a DM from him on Instagram. At first, you thought it was a fake account and didn’t pay it much attention but it was clearly him, verified account, blue tick and everything. You were nervous to open it and you almost didn’t want to. What would he say to you ? Most likely something along the lines of « Please don’t mention me ever again, that’s awkward, you’re awkward and your filmography is trash anyway». It actually took you a couple of days to muster the courage of opening it. Thankfully, it wasn’t anything horrible. Quite the contrary, actually. He was in LA for the week and wanted to know if you’d have dinner with him. You were terrified and freaking out, but also excited. At first, you were reluctant - what if you embarrassed yourself ? But ultimately, curiosity got the best of you and you accepted. Surely, if he asked you to have dinner with him, it couldn’t be that bad, right ?
A couple of days later, the two of you went for dinner and joined at SoHo House in West Hollywood. Due to both of your fame, a members-only social club was a safe pace that allowed for privacy. You were nervous, at first, and some paranoid part of your brain was scared that it would be a complete disaster, but it was the contrary. He introduced himself as Marshall and was an absolute gentleman and a sweetheart. He mentioned he had seen a lot of your movies and described himself as an admirer of your work. The whole evening, conversation flowed easily between the two of you. He put you at ease and was one of the most interesting persons you had ever met, knowledgeable on a lot of subjects and funny as hell, too. You weren’t too sure, but it also seemed like he was subtly flirting with you, though you didn’t want to get in your own head and make assumptions. He was so chill that you weren’t star struck anymore, but you were still reasonably impressed and too scared to flirt, so you simply enjoyed conversation with him. You were usually scared to meet people you admired, afraid that you’d have a terrible interaction with them that would taint your perception of their work, but the whole dinner was heavenly and you were so glad he DMed you. In his company, time seemed like a foreign concept, so much so that you had to be kicked out of the club’s restaurant, since you were the only customers left and it was 2 in the morning.
I can’t believe we’ve been here for six hours already, you giggled. Time really flew by.
It did, he said with a smile. I’m really glad we did this, Y/N.
Me too, you said shyly.
You were in the lobby, about to part ways, and your heart was beating fast. The way he spoke your name had you feeling all the feels and you didn’t really want the moment to end. He was staring at you intently while you were nervously biting your lip, trying not to say something awkward that could ruin the night. « Don’t be that person, Y/N », you thought to yourself.
Thank you for coming, he said. When you didn’t reply to my DM, I thought you didn’t really want to meet. But I had a really great time tonight.
Yeah, sorry I… I actually took a few days to open your message because I was scared, you confessed. I mean, we haven’t addressed the elephant in the room tonight, but I did kind of make a fool of myself on the red carpet. And when you wrote, I was kind of nervous.
You didn’t make a fool of yourself, he said reassuringly. Nothing to be embarrassed about. It was kind of adorable.
No need to sugarcoat it, you said nervously. You’ve seen that video of me thirsting over you…
I have, he said as he got closer to you. I’m pretty lucky…
A-Are you ? You asked nervously.
Yeah… Thank God they didn’t catch me staring at you the whole night of the premiere, he continued. Because I literally couldn’t take my eyes off you. You’re gorgeous.
Oh ? Uhm… I mean… The glam team really did a good job, you babbled. And the stylists, too.
They really did, he said with a smile as he got even closer. You were stunning.
I mean, it was a lot of work for me to look good, you know ? I mean I normally look like tra-… I mean, not trash but you know it’s…
There you were. Embarrassing yourself. There was only so much time you could spend in his intoxicating presence without making a fool of yourself and, apparently, it was six hours. He was smiling and you nerves were getting the best of you. You didn’t drink too much at dinner and you couldn’t even blame it on the cocktails. Just your dumb brain making interactions awkward. Thank God the lobby was dimly lit, otherwise, he would have seen your face turn bright red. You cheeks were burning from embarrassment.
I-I’m sorry, you said. I’m not good at talking to hot people. I mean you’re… Oh my God, why can’t I shut up ? I’m sorry, it’s late and -
I’ll help you, he chuckled as he cupped your face and kissed you.
The kiss was soft and romantic and you could feel him smile into it. He had one hand stroking your cheek while the other one was on your waist, pulling you close to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and fully leaned into the kiss as your lips parted ways, allowing his tongue to caress yours. Thank God it was late and you were the only people there, having some sense of privacy while the kiss got more and more passionate. When he broke the embrace, Marshall grabbed your hand and pressed his forehead to yours.
Would you like to come to my room ? He asked with a smile.
Ok, you nodded - still a bit dizzy from the kiss.
In the elevator, you kissed hungrily and there was absolutely no doubt as to where this was headed. You usually weren’t the kind of girl to sleep on the first date, but your five-date policy was thrown to the fire. Marshall was way too hot, way too charismatic. Also, you’d fantasized about him long enough to make an exception. If every wet dream of yours he had inhabited over the years counted as a date, this was actually overdue. You made it to the room and quickly ended up on the bed with him on top of you, nipping at the sweet spot in your neck.
Marshall, you moaned.
You meant « Daddy », right ? He asked with a smirk.
You stared at him with your mouth open, almost embarrassed as you remembered your comment about how you wouldn’t mind calling him Daddy. Your shocked expression made him laugh and he didn’t give you time to reply. Instead, he captured your lips and ran his hands under your blouse. That night, you did end up calling him « Daddy », as well as screaming his name while he ravished you in every way possible until the both of you passed out from exhaustion.
The next morning, as you woke up in his arms, you weren’t too sure what to do or say, wondering if that was a one time thing or not. However, you weren’t confused for too long as Marshall asked you on another dinner date. You saw each other as much as possible for the remainder of his stay in California. It was meant to be casual, at first, but it quickly became more and, even though the two of you were busy, you tried to make it work. Whenever he came to LA to work with Dre, he would stay at your place and, as soon as you had free time, you flew to Michigan to spend time with him. It was only a matter of time until rumors started to emerge about the two of you, though you were careful not to be spotted together.
DADDY’S SPAGHETTI : Y/N SPOTTED IN DETROIT.
Oscar-nominated actress Y/N was spotted in Detroit last week. She was seen grabbing a takeout order from Mom’s Spaghetti on Woodward Avenue. Through the years, Y/N has been quite vocal about her love of Eminem, but it seems like she’s doing more than supporting the Rap God’s business venture. The hoodie she was wearing does look a lot like the one Eminem was wearing a few days earlier when he was spotted attending the Lions game. Last time she walked the red carpet, Y/N was seen thirsting over the Detroit rapper. Is there a chance they could appear at the Oscars together ?
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All the better to eat you
werewolf!Steve Rogers x female reader
summary: You muster the courage to visit Scaretale, with your heart full of hope for a magical romance. After all, the club promises that no client would leave without having their wishes fulfilled. So the love you've been longing after should be waiting for you, right?
warnings: werewolf!Steve; dark!Steve; monsterfucking, but no bestiality; heavy dub-con; blowjob/facefucking (possibly the nastiest bj I've ever written 😳); unprotected sex; knotting; biting; size kink;
word count: 5.3k
Author's Note: This is a part of the Scaretale universe. I think it's fitting I'm starting the monster fucking extravaganza with my fave man to ruin me, right? 🤭 The title is an obvious tease on the classic Red Riding Hood text.
It was a thrill reminiscent of the first minutes of a movie. The kind you watched on a late autumn evening, with a candle lit up and hot chocolate in hand, curled up on a couch and wary of any sounds creaking inside the house.
It spiked pulse and lured in with the mystical, almost forbidden atmosphere; keeping you on your toes in fear of something truly scary jumping out at you.
You grew up in a rather tolerant household, taught not to be scared of monsters more than you should human men. Still, certain caution and fear pumped through your veins as you neared the entrance of the Scaretale.
A building straight out of a fairytale, situated on the border of lands between human and monstrous worlds. Though those merged fluently over the past half a century, or so. Half of your coworkers were other species. It was impolite to call them creatures, or monsters, even if that word somehow always echoed in your head.
Perhaps you’d never have the balls to visit Scaretale, if it wasn’t for the deepening sense of loneliness and heartbreak. And since your regular methods at dating all failed, leaving you with an even worse feeling of self-loathing, the glow of the letters embroidered on the dark leaflet enticed you even more.
All fairy tales install fear, but they also give satisfying completion in the end. Come and start your own tale, find who you’ve been missing. We promise that once you get inside, you won’t leave without your ever after.
Scaretale tempted with making those dreams come true. Was it naive of you to have your heart squeezing in hope at the prospect of it?
Not a part of you was a romantic - it was all of you. Craving someone to share the life with. You didn’t expect perfection, that was unrealistic. But you yearned for connection and support, for a warm embrace to hold you after a tiring day, for someone to call you theirs and mean it.
Oh gods, how obsessively you sometimes wished that someone would really consider you theirs - even to the point of possessiveness, of certain ownership.
You explained it with your prolonged lack of any deep connection and love. A hole in your heart that kept growing and growing, until it was no longer sated by casual dates and sweet flirting, but needed a more intense, obsessive kind of love.
If human men failed in that department, maybe a monster would be your match. Didn’t even have to provide a warm embrace, you joked to yourself as you readied for the night. A nice, cold vampire would do. They had years to mature, most of them had an established income, or savings, a sense of dark humor.
So you left your apartment with your heart fluttering, moved by the flashes of dreams of a great love you’ve been chasing half of your life.
However, the second you stepped inside the Scaretale, your heart froze for a second.
It didn’t look scary, nor was it filled with screams and sounds of violence. Quite the contrary, the air of tranquility coated the space. But the glow within, that didn’t seem to come off of any actual lamp, heightened the sense of wariness.
Humans were here, but it was obvious this space belonged to the monsters and was most of all their realm. That enchanting sense of calm began feeling like a mesmer that forced your body to move forward, while your brain filled with rising anxiety whispering that perhaps it would be better to leave.
Somehow, you couldn’t.
You took a deep breath, smelling sweet berries and gardenias in the most natural combination, as if you were walking through an actual garden. It was relaxing, yet in a way seemed to clog your mind.
Maybe if you went outside for a minute to breathe the crispy, chilly air of late October evening, it would clear your head and help you regroup your thoughts.
Even as that thought formed in your head, your body didn’t move toward the exit. Only a step forward.
At your pace - shy and unsure, but never a step back.
The echo of the words from the leaflet clenched your heart in a tight grip. We promise that once you get inside, you won’t leave without your ever after. It appeared to be an actual enchantment.
Scared, you looked around. No one was charging at you, no gnarly vines gripped you to swallow you under the ground. Patrons were calmly mingling around. Some sat in booths alone, simply observing the others. Maybe even looking for the same thing as you - someone to love. Or less romantically, someone to share a passionate night with.
There were also groups, like in one of the big booths where a bunch of thickly muscled, quite scary looking orcs were drinking beer. Neither of them looked approachable, their faces seemed frozen in permanent scowl. Their bodies, though clean of any trace of it, screamed of bloodbath.
In the center of the room, far deep inside the neverending space of the club, stood an oval bar. The shelves hanging above the counter were so thin it looked like the glasses and bottles were floating in the air, among teardrop-shaped bulbs of light. A slim, graceful bartender was running the bar; her hair long and a color of impossible blue.
Two men sat at the bar, their gazes turning your way as you walked closer. At a first glance they appeared human, but the similarity quickly dissolved. Their dark skin had markings of burgundy red that flashed with a shade of molten lava. Between the curls of their dark hair sparked flickers of pure fire.
Ifrits.
A flush of heat passed over you as they scanned your form with interest. For a moment you felt a spike of curiosity, wondering how an ifrit’s heat would feel against your skin. But it quickly passed, being only a figment of natural desire, but not the deep connection you searched.
The men seemed to read you well enough to realize you weren’t one looking for an adventure and they weren’t interested in providing more than that. They nodded politely at you, then moved their gazes to roam around.
Though you felt a certain relief, there was also that bitter pang of sadness. Once again, you weren’t what someone was looking for.
All those years you repeated over and over again to yourself, that it was okay to not be interested in someone. After all, you weren’t interested in some people either. But for so long it felt as if you were never anyone’s choice, that you couldn’t help but think you would never be.
When you went out with your friends, back in college years, or even recently, someone always flirted up, or approached your group. Just not you. All your friends, but never you. Some talked to you, but it was obvious they weren’t interested in more.
A dreadful thought settled with heavy weight on your shoulders. What if you were now trapped here forever? Not leaving without your ever after, but if there was no one for you, what would happen to you?
Just when your heart squeezed painfully, your chin dropping to your chest as you stared at the dark green floor in hope to hide the shine of your tears, a low, rumbling sound teased your ear.
You didn’t feel anyone’s presence behind you, or anywhere near you, but you heard that sound. That… growl.
Slowly, you raised your head and looked around. For a long moment you didn’t notice anyone who could’ve been the owner of that voice. Until your eyes settled on the shadowed nook across from the bar.
Only a faint outline of the silhouette was visible from your standing point. And a pair of glowing, blue eyes. Beautiful, but wild. Something dangerous lurked in that gaze, raising goosebumps on your arms.
Anxiety rose anew, your instincts screaming at you to run. Fast and far. But you couldn’t move your feet an inch back, only stay in place, or move forward.
Breath hitched in your lungs as the mysterious shadow slowly stood up, stretching to its full form. He was even bigger than you assessed him to be while sitting. Those eyes held yours captive, demanding you watch him as he approached in slow steps. Once he got into the light and you took in all of him, your breathing stopped altogether.
He wasn’t just big. He was huge! And broad. Massive. His dark clothes didn’t hide what was obviously cords of muscles on top of muscles on top of muscles. While his shoulders were wide enough to get stuck in the door, his waist was tapered. His legs were long, but with thick thighs. Legs built for running.
For chasing…
His dark blonde hair curled at his nape, his beard was thick and trimmed. You saw curls of dark golden hair covering his forearms, where the sleeves of his dark sweater were rolled up, revealing skin.
As he approached you, his tongue swiped out to lick his bottom lip, then over the upper row of his teeth. You caught a glimpse of a sharp canine, but it wasn’t a vampiric one.
No, this monster was very much living. Blood and flesh and all things primal.
A werewolf.
Your body jolted, struck with an inner bolt of adrenaline. Like at a jumpscare in a horror movie, but this one very much real.
Your heart thumped rapidly, forcing your blood to rush so fast it almost made you dizzy. It was scary. He was scary. Yet, you couldn’t help, but follow that sensation further. Just like never turning off the horror movie and continuing to watch it, even though you’re shaken and sweaty.
“Hello.”
His greeting was so simple, seemingly unimpressive, but the timbre of his voice alone made it a knee-weakening seduction.
Or maybe a threat…
Because the way he loomed over you, his eyes never leaving you, you started to realize that he wouldn’t allow you to step away from him.
“Hi,” you squeaked out, then cleared your throat to hopefully regain your normal voice.
“I won’t ask what a sweet bunny like you is doing here,” his sharp, white teeth flashed in a truly wolfish smile, “but I will ask that you stay still while I take a first deep whiff of my future mate.”
What?! Your mind screeched. Your body, meanwhile, went still. Just like he asked.
“Ma- what?” Your tone dried breathless. “We’re not- I’m not-”
Your words got stuck in your throat when the werewolf breached your personal space and bent down to drag the tip of his nose against your neck.
A shiver rocked you, but a solid arm wrapped around you in a flash, steading you. Or maybe holding you in place, so you wouldn’t dare inch away from him. His incredible warmth engulfed you like a weighted blanket - a layer of comfort hidden deep beneath the scary sense of constriction and suffocation.
He smelled of pine and burnt wood and a heady note you couldn’t describe as anything other than masculine.
“Absolutely delicious.” He hummed appreciatively, leaning back with visible reluctance.
“I’m not your mate,” you managed to blurt out, looking around in panic in hope that someone would come to your aid.
“Of course not.” He smiled, but it wasn’t reassuring at all. “Not until I have you writhing on my knot and bite you.”
The visual of it had you whimpering in fear; your eyes stung with tears that threatened to spill out. He had you caged out in the open of the club, publicly; you were sure your discomfort and trembling were visible to others; yet no one came to help you. Were they scared of the huge werewolf, or maybe they just didn’t care?
“No, I meant that I won’t-” your nervous explanation died on your tongue the second his hand snapped your way.
His large hand cupped your chin; surprisingly gentle, even in its firm hold. However, the long claws protruding from his fingers, grazing the delicate skin of your cheeks, were far from non-threatening.
Shockingly, your body responded in contrast to your mind’s anxious thoughts. As the werewolf’s claws dug into your soft cheeks, your nipples hardened into stiff peaks.
“You will.” Came his calm, unyielding decision.
He yanked your face up, forcing you to stand on your tiptoes and rely your weight to be supported by his hold alone. Starking blue eyes stared down at you, the rim around the irises glowing a silvery moon.
Then there was that grin again - sinister and teasing, with a flash of teeth (which made your skin prickle in fear of the vicious bite mauling your flesh).
“Scaretale promises its patrons realization of their deepest desire.” He said and you felt dread building in your chest with a silent scream. “But I’ll let you in on a little secret, bunny. It’s the monsters that get the privilege of having their desires met. Sweet humans are the prey that gets to fulfill our demands.”
Your hope shattered into a million pieces. Or was it your heart that broke for yourself and the love you were dreaming of finding. Tears welled up in your eyes as the heavy reality of entering a nightmare settled in.
“Aww, why the tears, sweet bunny?” He cooed at you, with the pad of his thumb brushing away a tear trickling down your cheek.
“Because I didn’t want this,” your meek voice barely made it past your lips.
“I would perhaps believe you, if your nipples weren’t poking right through your pretty dress,” he chuckled. “Or-” he leaned closer, lips brushing the corner of your mouth- “if I didn’t smell your pussy priming itself for me.”
A flush of heat scorched your cheeks. You weren’t paying much attention to that part of your body, too lost in the anxious wailing of your mind, but as he mentioned your core your focus shifted to the pulse between your thighs. You weren’t wet, not exactly. But you felt that warmth and tingling; the growing interest your body had in the werewolf’s brutal ways.
“Will you let me go? Afterwards?” You asked, sniffling quietly.
A part of you wondered, if you had any chance fighting him off, but logic itself made that calculation quick. There was no way you would manage to slip away from his grip, without him allowing you to. So as bitter and numbing it was to accept, you knew you had to give in, to at least protect yourself from too much damage.
A frown marred his handsome face for a second, before it relaxed into that easy charm he first greeted you with.
“There’s no afterwards. There’s only forever.” He tenderly stroked your cheek with his thumb. “Werewolves mate for life, bunny.”
Your crushed heart gave a pang, a reawakening jolt.
Didn’t you want someone to call you theirs forever? To own you?
Scaretale gave you that wish, in its own very twisted, cruel way.
“But I don’t even know your name.” Your hands twisted in the fabric of his sweater; half of your mind still considered trying to fight the monster off.
“Steve,” he grinned. He released your chin to run his fingers down your neck and then to the back of your head. “You can tell me yours, or I can keep calling you bunny.” He gripped a fistful of your hair and nipped your earlobe with his teeth.
“Though, I admit, I’m a sentimental man and I’d like to groan your name when I break your holes.”
You made a pitiful sound of protest, which didn’t get a chance to really resound as Steve’s mouth claimed yours. Like with the way he moved and touched, his kiss spoke of the wild beast that ruled him. He wasn’t just kissing you, he was devouring. Conquering.
And you melted into it. Your body became pliant and aroused.
He tapped your swollen lips with a sharp claw, once again asking for your name. You whispered it and as your mouth parted to sound the word, Steve slipped a finger into your warm cavern. Tip of his claw teased at your tongue, causing you to stiffen in fear. Suddenly, there was pressure on the flat of your tongue as his thick finger settled on it and massaged; but there was no slice of claw anymore.
Steve withdrew his finger, but the grip of his other hand on the nape of your neck tightened. He pushed you in front of him and led you deeper into the club’s depths. In time, lights seemed to dim and the main room divided into three corridors.
The left and right corridors were shrouded in darkness, your human eyes couldn’t see any path other than the abyss. The middle corridor was doused in glow - soft, magical, luring.
Steve turned left and you felt yourself shiver as darkness engulfed you. He didn’t seem to have any problem in navigating the eternal, starless night that filled the tunnel. Finally, you reached the end, marked by the outline of an ornate door. The markings lit up as Steve’s hand touched the frame.
When he pushed you through it, you stumbled into a bedroom. A cozy looking, not too big bedroom, with a massive, wood frame bed taking most of the space. The place didn’t look like a fancy hotel room, nor like a bedroom that could match Scaretale’s interior. No, this place was personal and lived in. It was someone’s home.
A home that smelled of pine, burnt wood and musk.
You turned around, glancing at the door now closed behind Steve’s back. They didn’t look anything like the ones you stepped through, but like a normal door in what could be a cabin in the woods.
An intricate marking glowed on the upper beam of the frame, suddenly igniting in flame that burnt all the magic out. Leaving only a reminder of the portal that was activated, but now closed permanently.
You had no way back to the Scaretale. Or your home.
“Steve-” you took a tentative step back as your gaze returned to him.
“Strip.” He ordered, taking off his own sweater in one, swift move.
“P-please…” you felt the sting of tears again, even as your walls pulsed at the sight of Steve’s half naked, impressive body.
His skin was fair, near marble like sculpture of defined muscles. But not as bare and smooth. Thick curls of dark golden hair covered his arms, shoulders and chest, from where it trailed low across his torso in a stripe leading to…
Holy fuck, you were going to die!
His cock wasn’t just proportionate to the rest of his massive body, it was near monstrous looking in its shape - with the bulbous head angry red and shiny with pearly precum; pulsing veins that curved along his girth; large, heavy sack nestled in a crown of gold hair; and a thick, wide ring of a knot at the base that already felt impossible to push into any of your holes, much less when it inflated.
“I’m growing impatient, bunny,” Steve snarled, prowling towards you. “I can rip it off of you, but I don’t know if it’s a dress you really like, so I don’t want to make you sad by ruining it.”
“Why don’t you care about making me sad by ruining me?” You snapped, but it lacked viciousness. Partly because of fear, partly because you were breathless with unexpected need.
You had nowhere else to run when the back of your legs hit the bedframe and Steve loomed over you.
“Trust me, bunny,” he emitted a low growl, “when I ruin your holes, you’ll feel nothing but delirious pleasure and happiness.”
He didn’t give you a second chance to undress. With two harsh moves he ripped the fabric apart, his claws so sharp they easily sliced through. He held your gaze as he hooked one pointy talon beneath the lace of your panties.
“Such beautiful eyes,” he murmured, slowly dragging his claw back and forth. “That fear and arousal. Can’t wait to see it as you struggle to take my cock.”
A single snick and your panties were ripped away and tossed to the side. Then Steve’s hand was curling on your shoulder and pushing you down.
“On your knees, bunny. And open your mouth wide.”
You obeyed, feeling yourself shiver as your face found itself at level with his hard dick. Your fingers trembled against your thighs; the need to slide them between your folds growing stronger than the instinct to push the predator away.
���It won’t fit,” you stared wide-eyed at the cock bobbing in front of you.
“It sure won’t,” Steve chuckled, cupping your face in his big palms. “But you’re still going to take it. Now, tongue out.”
A whine shrilled in your throat when the wide crown stretched your lips and pushed deep inside. The more of him was forced forward, the wider your mouth had to open and the less room to breathe was left. A cry for mercy became only a garbled pitch as Steve held your head in place and pushed his cock to the back of your throat.
Tears streamed down, your drool flooded out as he slowly withdrew. Your spit was sticking to the curve of his dick, strings of saliva breaking and splashing on your chin.
When he surged forward again, your hands flew to his thick, hairy thighs. But there was no way of stopping him from taking you as he wished. It terrified you.
It also made your pussy drip.
“That’s all sweet, bunny,” Steve groaned, feeling your tongue moving against him helplessly, your throat constricting in resistance as he speared your mouth.
“But I need more from my little bitch!” He snarled and abruptly stepped forward.
You were pushed backwards, forced to change your position from kneeling to landing on your butt. Your back hit the sturdy frame of the bed; your legs spread wide, knees pressed to your chest.
Steve had your head tipped back, hands holding you in place as he fucked your face straight from above.
With your mouth and throat in one line, he could force his cock deeper. His balls were hitting your drool-covered chin over and over again. Your choking and obscene wet sounds mixed with Steve’s lewd groans of pleasure.
“That’s it!” He moaned, dipping in and out of your throat. “Taking your mate’s cock like a good little bitch and enjoying it. I can smell it, you know.”
You wouldn’t be able to protest, even if you wanted to deny his nasty claim. The worst, however, was that Steve was right. You were spread open, dripping slick down your buttocks; your pussy clenched around nothing, desperate for that monstrous cock.
You coughed and spluttered when Steve pulled out, a wheezing sob leaving your sore mouth. Steve slapped his wet cock against your cheek, then rubbed it all over your face, smearing your own spit and his pre-cum all over you. He barked at you to keep your pretty mouth open, then stuffed it with his heavy sack. Well, as much of it as he could fit in.
“Suck a little, bunny,” his instruction came out breathy, betraying how affected he was by the whole ordeal. “I know they’re a mouthful, but they’re just full of all the cum I’m going to fill you with.”
Your cunt spasmed and you let out a garbled moan.
Finally, another reprieve for much needed air was granted. Steve took half a step back, breathing heavily as he looked down at your messy, shivering form at his feet. Dark hunger flashed in his eyes and you weren’t sure, if it was only desire, or something more dangerous.
He picked you up so easily, lifting you into his arms with no strain and tossing you onto the bed. Instinctively, you squirmed up the mattress, seeking escape. Steve followed in that unrushed, steady prowl; like a predator, who already knew his prey was his to devour.
He spread your legs. You stilled, feeling tips of his claws pressing into your skin.
“My, my, bunny,” he licked his lips, “what a pretty, soaked cunt you have.”
Steve swiped his fingers higher. You squeaked when he lightly brushed your puffed, glistening folds with his claws. It made him grin wolfishly and he pressed a little harder.
“All the better to take all of your mate’s cock,” not easing his pressure on your core, Steve stretched above you.
Your thighs stayed parted wide for him, allowing him to brace the weight of his body on one arm placed next to you, while he settled on top of you.
“What tempting, hard nipples you have,” he continued his twisted fairy tale, his voice a deep, haunting caress.
“All the better to suck on and torment,” Steve closed his mouth around one peak and sucked, at the same time flicking his tongue over it.
Your back arched. Your arms encircled his back, fingers digging into the steel muscles as you held on. When his mouth moved to your other breast, one of your hands weaved into his hair. Your tugging evoked a growly rumble that reverberated against your sensitive nipple.
Steve trailed open mouth kisses up your chest and along your neck, grazing the dip over your pulse with his sharp teeth. You squirmed, a new surge of adrenaline quickening your blood flow as you remembered his promise about the bite.
When he took your mouth, it was with less vehemence than the first kiss. He coaxed your lips open and teased your tongue with his own. The fingers splayed over your pussy kept steadily moving, smearing your slick all over.
“What a sweet mouth you have,” he murmured, nipping your bottom lip. “And we already know what can be done with it.”
His blue eyes sparked as your breath hitched, when he spread your folds and dipped his fingers deeper. The fear of pain from the claws had you reacting first, though there was nothing to hurt you. He retracted them.
“You’re fucking dripping, bunny.” Steve groaned in satisfaction. “So much that I bet it trickled to your dirty rosebud, too.”
He didn’t wait for your confirmation, just slid a single digit lower, where he found exactly what he predicted. You strained against him; one of your hands shot down between your bodies to clutch at his wrist. But Steve didn’t budge, pressing his finger against your tight rim, which was slick with your juices.
“Shh, shh,” he cooed. “Why are you fighting so hard, bunny? Afraid it’s going to hurt? Or that you will cum from having your ass played with, like a weak, needy bitch?”
He circled and pressed, circled and pressed, driving you mad with sensations you couldn’t untangle.
“I promise you, my lovely bunny,” though he removed his finger from between your asscheeks, there was nothing reassuring in the dark promise he vowed against your lips- “You will cum from anything I do to your sweet body. Because you are my little bitch.”
“And it’s time that I claim what’s mine!” His snarl combined with your cry as Steve suddenly sat back and flipped you onto your stomach.
He yanked your hips up, making you kneel on the mattress. One of his hands pressed against the back of your head, pressing it into the sheets. You felt pinpricks of claws grazing your skull.
Steve settled behind you, coarse hair on his thighs tickling your delicate skin. His cock spread your swollen folds and he rocked his hips, rubbing the whole length of him against you, soaking himself in your slick. He was already wet with your saliva, but considering his size you didn’t mind him adding more lubrication.
“Ungh!” You keened when he pressed into your hole. “Too big! Steve, it’s too-”
Your toes curled, feet kicking helplessly against the mattress, as Steve ignored your pleas and inched forward.
At least he was taking it slow. But maybe slow was more tortuous than if he broke you on one, single thrust.
His hand on your head pressed harder when your body jerked in an instinctive attempt to scramble away. The other hand landed on your ass with a hard slap.
It made you clench around him, causing a new kind of ripple of pleasurable pain.
He was stretching you so much, so close to the edge of ripping pain. But for the most part it was igniting a delirious ecstasy, confusing you and burning away any protests. Your pussy wasn’t used to sensations like that, yet she welcomed it with creamy joy.
“There you go, bunny.” Steve encouraged you, delighted in the way you moaned obscenely when he was halfway in and the head of his cock nudged that special spot.
To reward you, he withdrew and slid back in, once again teasing that point. And again. And again. Until your thighs were shaking and your wetness was dripping onto the sheets.
“Almost there, huh?” He chuckled, feeling your walls fluttering. “Well then-”
He withdrew in the same steady pace, only to ram the whole length of him in one stroke on the next thrust.
You screamed, but even as the pain short-circuited your consciousness for a split of a second, your pussy spasmed.
Steve stayed buried to the hilt, relishing in your orgasm milking his cock. He didn’t wait for the aftershocks to subside, before starting a brutal rhythm. He fucked you like the animalistic monster that he was - with unparalleled hunger, incessant need, and no regard for your discomfort.
“Good girl, bunny.” He draped his weight over you, hot breath fanning your cheek. “Such a good bitch for your mate.”
He licked a wet line along your jaw, then down to the crook of your neck. Your mewling protest was ignored as Steve scraped his teeth over the spot he was going to mark.
“Do you feel it swelling?” He teased. “Do you feel it spreading you wider each time I drive into your tiny pussy? My knot ’s about to pop, bunny. And when it does, I’m going to fill you so much. It’s going to lock your cunt in place, so that you have no other choice, but to take every fucking load.”
“Until it feels like your belly is too heavy. Like you’re about to burst at the seams.” His thrust became harsher, jerky and - just like he said - each stretching you with the growing knot. “Like your cunt aches from taking too much.”
“And you will take it all, bunny. You know why?” Steve’s teeth dipped into your skin, not yet breaking, but threatening. “Yeah, you do. You know why. Say it!”
He slapped your ass when you didn’t reply, only moaned helplessly..
“Say it!” He spanked you again.
“Because I’m your little bitch!” You cried out, face half buried into the sheets and tears streaking down.
Beast’s teeth sunk into your skin, breaking it and drawing a flow of blood. His jaw locked in, just like his cock did in your pussy. Inflated knot, spreading you wider than ever before, shifted your channel so that the crown of Steve’s cock rested right against your cervix. And he bathed it in his seed.
White haze filled your brain as the pinnacle of pleasure and zap of pure pain switched off your consciousness.
When you groggily reconnected with bits of reality, your body was curled on its side. Steve’s body was aligned with yours; his cock still nestled deep inside of you. His arms were holding you tight, providing enough warmth for you to realize the tremors rocking you weren’t from cold, but the aftershocks from an orgasm.
Though you weren’t sure if it was still the one his knot ignited, or if the werewolf coaxed another climax out of you while you were unconscious.
You wouldn’t put it past him.
“Steve-” you croaked out.
“I’ve got you, bunny.” He tenderly kissed your shoulder. “I’ve got you and I always will. Your ever after, mate.”
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“We hope this email finds you well” babe, the only emails I hope find me well are the ones from Archive of Our Own
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Apparently I'm supposed to root for The Rock and not the delicious horned man with chains that could absolutely wreck me.
The world is a messed up place. 😩
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This is an erotic audio, proceed with caution.
Warnings: dom & choked (with love). Nothing violent only obsession.
This can be GN if you like being called a good girl ;)
A/N: I'm sorry i haven't posted for A ripple in space for a while. I'm getting my life in order. In the meantime enjoy this little treat. xoo
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This is an erotic audio, proceed with caution.
Warnings: dom & choked (with love). Nothing violent only obsession.
This can be GN if you like being called a good girl ;)
A/N: I'm sorry i haven't posted for A ripple in space for a while. I'm getting my life in order. In the meantime enjoy this little treat. xoo
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their relationship is entirely built upon enjoying pissing each other off
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Eminem - Marshall Mathers - Slim Shady, Desperado (1997)
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