#And then that girl who is part of the fangs and asked me to be there to support her if she needed it

[jeromefox]

Found family?.....

I- Well. The only family we have right now is me, Magnus, our two cats, Gravy and Biscuit, and possibly this girl we have been taking care of lately named Stella. No others.

[elixirfromthestars]

Sink Your Teeth In Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Neighbor!Reader

Summary: You and Bucky are supposed to attend Sam's party on Halloween. However, when you show up to his place looking like temptation itself—he gets other ideas on how to spend the night with you.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warning(s): spooky fun vibes / smut / fluff / female reader / mutual pining / love bites / dirty talk / unprotected sex / pet names / 18+ mdni / sprinkles (who am I kidding it might be a little more than just sprinkles) of possessive Bucky / breast play / a tiny moment of drinking / smut with little plot

Prompt(s): human (vampire costume) / treat (fluff, smut) / neighbor / “Why are you looking at me like that?” + “Spread them. Further.” + “You’re pretty like that.” + “There you go. Doing so good for me.” ཐི❤︎ཋྀ

a/n: uhhhhh this is what happens when you let me write while on medication post surgery lol please ignore how late this is, your girl was going through it 😭 This is for @buck-star ‘s Trick or Treat fun 🎃🧡 Also based on this ask she sent me, so this is for you Sydney 🤭🧡. I hope you all enjoy!! Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated!! ❤️🦇❤️

vampire divider ♡ // main masterlist ♡ // bucky masterlist ♡

You’ve heard all the superstitions about the full moon before. The way it seemingly makes people act strangely—far from themselves. The word lunatic and lunacy are tied to the moon as well, having been believed to incite mania in people. An unrecognizable version of themselves whose impulses bordered on primal. Tonight was no exception to such superstitions as the full moon hung high in the sky on Halloween. Promising to pull the sentiments from the deepest depths of each person out into the open. 

However, in this instance, an argument could be made that the moon was not at fault for how your pulse quickened or how your heart hammered in your chest. No, not even if the moon’s glow reflected in Bucky’s eyes so beautifully that they resembled a pair of sapphires staring right back at you. Freezing you to your spot right outside his door. 

The moon was also certainly not telling you to push Bucky into his home and crash your lips onto his until your lungs begged for air. No, oh no, that was all you. 

“You here to drive a stake through my heart, doll?” Bucky’s playful tone broke you from your trance, biting his bottom lip as he held back a smug grin. A flicker of something bewitching crosses his eyes as they search yours for an answer. 

You shifted on your feet, mortification prickling your skin as you collected yourself. “I might if you don’t keep those fangs to yourself,” you quip, tapping his chest with the fake wooden stake in your hand, trying to disperse the attention away from the way you had ogled Bucky. You wouldn’t say you had a thing for vampires, but his costume was giving him this mystic allure that was fueling an unspoken desire you had been harboring for him since you met half a year ago.

Bucky’s vampire costume was far from the cheesy kind you could find at any corner pop-up Halloween store—it was quite the opposite. Bucky dawned on a crisp white dress shirt underneath a black vest that wrapped around his torso—emphasizing his broad build. A few buttons on the shirt were undone, revealing just enough skin to make your eyes wander. His black trousers fit his legs as if they had been tailored perfectly to their length. His velvet cape was an onyx color with a deep crimson lining that swayed behind him at every movement. To top it off, a pair of fangs poked out from his smile that sent a shiver down your spine from their playful danger. 

He certainly looked the part of a vampire—dreamily menacing in the best way. 

A deep chuckle leaves his lips, his eyes glinting mischievously as he winks at you, “Don't worry, doll. I won’t bite unless you ask me nicely.” His words bore a hint of a promise that caused your heart to skip a beat. Flirting with him wasn’t unusual—you’ve been doing it since you became neighbors—despite that, tonight, it felt different.

You let out a sound between a snort and a laugh—pushing away the heat that wants to spark itself into a flame, “I’ll pass on the biting, thanks, but I would appreciate a drink before we head out.” Your words are punctuated with an expression he can never say no to. 

When Bucky is met with your soft eyes and sweet smile, that appeals to him like no other—there’s no way he can say no. He opens the door wider for you to step inside, welcoming you into his home with a passing comment that he could use a drink too. You walk in with a familiarity as if the home were your own. Which—if you asked Bucky—it might as well be. You spend so much time here he’d go so far as to say this was more your place than his.

He didn’t mind that. On the contrary, this place hadn’t felt like home until you came into his life. Since you started coming around, these four walls transformed with your presence—traces of you woven into every corner. The stray hair ties that lay scattered throughout the rooms, a few of your sweaters in his closest in exchange for stealing some of his, the cat mug you claimed as yours, and your latest read left unfinished on his coffee table to be picked up and continued while he cooked dinner for you two on his nights off. All these little things and more made his house warmer, fuller, and undeniably a home. Turning this space into something he longed to come back to every night. 

You close his front door and follow him to his kitchen, the butterflies in the pit of your stomach not going away. Not that they ever did in his presence, but on some days it was easier to ignore the fluttering. 

Today would not be that kind of day. 

He reaches up into his cupboards, taking out two crystal glasses while idly chatting about the Halloween party Sam was throwing. You weren’t listening, mind elsewhere as you attempted to distract the inappropriate thoughts away, simply watching as he promptly poured out two servings of wine. He handed one to you, his hand brushing against yours at the motion—sending a jolt of electricity through it. You grip the glass a little tighter than you should and hastily take a sip. 

You would definitely need more than one drink. 

“Are you even listening, doll?” Bucky was staring at you with an amused expression, wine glass hovering at his lips as he called out your inattentiveness. Your attention gets brought back to his mouth which no longer hosts the fake fangs. He had removed them so as to not stain them with the wine. 

When had he done that? How long had the passage of time escaped you?

A warmth found its way to your face, trying to hide behind the crystal glass in your hand. Bucky knew you weren’t listening to him and his only theory as to why was clued in by the fact that your gaze continued to drift to his lips. 

“Huh? Oh, I was—it’s just…” you trail off trying to find an excuse, but when you can’t find one—or at least one you can tell him—you concede. “Sorry, what did you say?” He leans against the counter at your question, a smirk dancing on his lips. His eyes darken ever so slightly, as he ponders how far he can take the flirting tonight. 

“I said you look good, doll. I really like your costume,” he repeats his unheard compliment, shamelessly raking his eyes over your form. You gulp the rest of the wine in your cup—the spark of tension reigniting. Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away from how the black lacy gothic corset top hugged your breasts perfectly, and the matching leather pants clung to you like a second skin—leaving nothing to the imagination. And to Bucky’s added torture, you decided to strap a leather harness to your thighs that he had to resist the urge to grasp by the straps and pull you flush against his frame so you could feel how hard you made his—

Bucky stopped himself from letting his mind wander to places that would cause all of his blood to rush south. 

You looked down at your costume, not thinking much of it when putting it together. When Bucky told you he was dressing up as a vampire you thought it would be fitting to dress up as a vampire hunter. You were on a budget though, so between your closet and thrifting you came up with the outfit you’re wearing now. 

“Thanks, Bucky. You definitely did a better job though,” you compliment him, thinking that if anyone deserved praise for their costume—it was him. Bucky shakes his head, taking another sip of his wine, “Not me. Sam. He’s dressing up as a twenties mobster, so he let me borrow his costume from last year. Apparently, he goes all out every Halloween.” 

“Does he? Can’t wait to see how the party turned out then,” you comment, your nerves over meeting his friends for the first time bubbling its way into your system. Bucky gives you a small smile, the sight easing your anxieties ever so slightly, “Speaking of which—we should probably head out now. The party starts soon and Sam’s due to blow up my phone any second now,” he grumbles, finishing off the rest of his wine. A single deep red droplet runs down the corner of his mouth. Your fingers itch to wipe it off, but instead his tongue darts out to catch it—licking his lips in the process. A soft intake of breath was heard from you, an instinctive response to what he had done. The subtle sound revealing more than words ever could. 

There’s a shift in the air—it’s inevitable—you both feel it. 

The space between you is now charged, the kitchen feeling smaller and yet the space between you two, too far apart. Bucky’s eyes shine with a gentle intensity as he saunters over to you. Delicately towing at the lines you both wish to cross tonight. 

Your eyes search his for his intentions the closer he gets. Trying to decipher what you can as his left arm reaches out behind you to grab his keys—momentarily caging you. Your lower back presses against the counter, heart stuttering in your chest as the scent of cedar and spice from his cologne encases you.

“Yeah we should…” you swallow hard, voice barely audible as your eyes lock on his lips, the wine having stained them a deep crimson color. Resembling that of a vampire’s after they’ve feasted on the blood of another. A rich shiver makes its way down your spine—one he easily catches. This emboldens him, his own eyes travel down your face and then further down to observe the way your breasts strain against the corset.

Bucky was tempted to sink his teeth, and something else, into you.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you found your voice somewhere between the longing that plagued you and the urge to pull him closer.

“Like what, doll?” 

“Like you’re seconds away from changing everything between us.” 

When those words leave your lips, Bucky knows there’s no point in denying it. “Maybe because I am,” he responds in a low murmur, before wasting not another second and crashing his lips against yours. His hands finding purchase at your hips and giving a light squeeze. Your lips part in a soft gasp at the sensation, his touch kindling the craving you’ve had for him from the moment you stepped foot into his house. Your hands find their way to his robe, the velvet soft underneath your fingertips as you pull him closer, wanting to leave no space for air between you. 

Bucky’s on the verge of losing his mind with your body pressed so close to his. His tongue prods gently at your mouth seeking entrance—something you eagerly give. When your tongues tangle you let out a soft moan that teeters on a whimper and it stirs something deep in his gut. He so desperately wants to pull more sounds out of you, but he needs to know you want this as much as he does. 

He pulls away from the kiss momentarily, resting his forehead against yours to catch his breath. Your hands relax and let go of his robe to rest against his chest instead. Savoring the way oxygen finds its way into your lungs again. 

“Tell me to stop and I will…” Bucky swallows hard as he says this. His mind reeling as he tries to calm the tightness in his pants. You shake your head, “I won’t. I want this, Bucky. I want you,” to assure him of your words, you pull him in by the loops of his dress pants, rolling your hips slowly against his bulge causing him to hiss at the pleasure. 

“Fuck, doll. The things you do to me.” 

“Show me.”

Your plea makes Bucky throw all hesitation out the window. Grabbing onto the straps of the harness at your thighs to press you into him and grind against you—groaning at the friction. You reach up and card your fingers through his hair to pull him down for another searing kiss. Your mouths moving with a sense of urgency and purpose. Needing to make up for all those days you only let yourselves flirt and never truly gave in to what you really wanted. 

The spark of desire bursts into embers as the intensity of the kisses increases—tongues dancing, teeth clashing, and your breaths entwined as you lose yourselves to the taste of one another. Every inch of your skin titilating in anticipation for Bucky’s touch. It’s evident you both need more, so Bucky snakes his hands down to cup your ass, hiking you up and around his waist to carry you over to the nearest surface. 

“You’re. So. Goddamn. Beautiful,” Bucky punctuates every word with nips to your jawline as he places you on the granite island. Your fingers brush past the edge of something plastic as you steady yourself on the cool surface. Your eyes reflexively look over and see the fake fangs Bucky had on earlier. Your remember the way they looked on him and your mind wanders to what his own teeth can do.

“Bite me,” the words slip out before you register how demanding they may sound. A deep rumble resonates from Bucky as he laughs at the way you said it. He removes himself from your jawline to get a good look at you—his cock twitching at the sight of you. 

Your chest heaved with exertion from all the air Bucky stole from you, your breasts threatening to spill out from your corset—lips swollen and pupils blown wide with desire. Knowing that this was your reaction to his kisses, to his touch, to him before you’ve even gotten to the main part—Bucky had to stop himself from coming undone then and there knowing he had such an effect on you. 

“Didn’t I say you had to ask nicely, doll?” he mocks playfully, eliciting a needy whine from you. The sound goes straight to his dick as it painfully aches to be inside you. He doesn’t think he can hold out much longer, as much as he’s enjoying the kisses. 

“Spread them. Further,” Bucky mutters the command into your lips, his hands sliding up your legs. You oblige his request, giving him more space to settle between your thighs. Your fingers thread through his hair as he trails open-mouthed kisses down to your pulse point—nipping and sucking hard enough to leave marks.

Bucky relishes in the soft whines and whimpers that leave you whenever he bites down just enough to hit the bliss point between pain and pleasure—soothing any remaining sting with his tongue. He catches the way your nipples harden underneath your corset—pressing against the fabric—making him crave a taste. 

“Gonna mark you up pretty girl—everywhere,” the low murmur of a promise is sealed into your skin, teeth grazing your neck delicately as he holds off on marking you there for the time being. His fingers hastily unhook the clasps of your corset, your breasts spilling out. He cups them in his hands, kneading the soft flesh while you moan copiously. Bucky greedily swallows every single one. 

His head dips down to pepper kisses across the valley of your breasts before dragging his tongue across one hardened nipple—teasing you as your breathing grew ragged. Your chest arches into him, moaning out his name as he moves to the other breast. Taking the unkissed bud into his mouth and sucking on it with a hunger that borders on savage.

“I know I said bite me, but watch those teeth.” 

“I’ll be good, doll. I’ll be real good to you.” 

He chuckles against your breast, causing delicious vibrations that send shivers down your spine. He moves over to the other nipple, giving it a playful nip that causes you to hiss out a watch it. He laughs again, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he continues to worship your breasts. The pleasure shoots straight to the throbbing between your legs, your underwear dampening. 

Nimble fingers find their way to his dress shirt and vest where you do your best to unbutton as much as you can, needing to see and touch more of him. You run your fingers down the hard planes of his chest and abs—your touch leaving heat in its wake. Bucky continues to lavish attention to your sensitive buds, his lips swirling and sucking the peaks insatiably. 

When his lungs burn for air he reluctantly releases your nipple with a wet pop—pulling away to see the evidence he’s left on your skin. “Mmm, you’re pretty like that doll—all marked up by me,” his fingers trailing and tracing over the marks he’s left on your neck, your collarbone, and your breasts. His thumb brushing over them with feather-like touches as an almost affectionate gesture. Your body shudders at the possessive gleam in his eyes—one that only intensifies the more his gaze lingers on your skin. 

You’ve never seen him look at you like this before—and you didn’t mind it. Not one bit.

“Bucky…please…I need more of you.”

“I know, baby. I’ll give you what you need.” 

As if the word baby wasn’t enough to have your heart leap out of your chest—Bucky’s fingers toying with the harness at your thighs, and the button of your pants certainly did. Swiftly, he proceeds to undo it all and the zipper. You eagerly help him slip it all off, and when his gaze meets the soaked front of your seamless cotton panties, a husky growl reverberates in his chest. His fingers hook at the edges while his teeth graze along the front of the fabric. The action takes your breath away, your heart racing a mile a minute. His hooded eyes bore into yours as he takes the fabric between his teeth and drags it down your body, baring your slick folds to him—he groans at the sight. 

“Fuck, doll, so ready for me.”

Bucky takes your panties and pockets them. Just as you're about to give him shit for it, he springs up to kiss your lips fervently. Hands at your thighs massaging the soft flesh, his thumbs brushing ever so slightly where you need him most. All prior thoughts are forgotten as you reach for Bucky's belt, desperately removing all obstacles until you can easily slide your hand into his pants. You palm over the bulge in his boxers, stroking him through the fabric. Your eyes widen at the feel of his size causing him to grin at you wolfishly.

“Something the matter, doll?” 

“Nothing I can’t handle.” 

Your confident tone provokes a deep rumble in Bucky’s throat. His hips jerk forward involuntarily, seeking more of your arousing touch. He pulls his pants and boxers down and off, freeing his cock. It springs forth, long and thick, the tip already glistening with precum. "Got me all worked up, baby. Just look at it—fuck," his voice is thick with lust, guiding your hand to wrap around his shaft. Your hand glides against him, causing him to let out a low grunt followed by the neediest moans. His nose brushes against yours as he tries not to entirely lose himself to the sheer pleasure that courses through him at your touch. 

Almost desperately, he leans in to capture your mouth again, kissing you deeply, his hips rocking into your hand at the rhythm of your movements. His flesh hand grabs the back of your neck to keep you close as he devours you, while his metal one trails up between your thighs—the coolness teasing the delicate skin—contrasting the heat that builds with the kiss. You moan into it, reveling in the feel of Bucky’s length in your hand as you stroke him slowly, becoming familiar with it. 

Bucky groans into your mouth, a resonant growl of pure want. His fingers go higher up your thighs until the cool metal grazes against your center, drawing out a whimper from you. Your thighs part further in response causing him to smirk against your lips. A smirk that falls into a ravenous hiss as his fingers brush your folds, the sick arousal coating them as he dips to circle your entrance teasingly—your hips bucking in response. 

“Bucky…” his name falls from your mouth with a carnal yearning that snaps Bucky's control entirely. His hands grip your hips to pull you closer to him—balancing you on the edge of the counter. He takes hold of his cock, positioning himself at your entrance, the head brushing against your cunt. Your patience is nonexistent at this point. 

“Bucky, if you tell me to ask nicely I swear to ah—” Bucky cuts off your whiny gripe with one swift thrust, burying himself inside you until he fills you completely. “What was that?” his cheeky question does little to hide he’s just as overwhelmed with how good it feels as you are. Yet, with the cockiest grin, he drinks up your hazy expression as you adjust to his thickness. 

Something shifts inside him when you look at him with soft adoring eyes, filling his heart with a thing that can only be called love. It causes him to pepper kisses—gentle and tender—all over your face to help ease the achy stretch. You melt into them, so contrastingly soft to the prior ones that your heart does a little flip. The deeper feelings behind them not lost on you. Even more so when he whispers the sweetest words of devotion at every kiss. How beautiful you are, how good you feel, how good he wants to make you feel, how he’s dreamed of this, and so much more. All the meanwhile, his thumbs massage comforting circles into your hips. 

“There you go. Doing so good for me, doll,” he praises you when he starts to feel your hips slowly move against him—pleasure replacing the ache. He reciprocates your desire, rocking into you slowly, letting you feel every inch until he goes as deep as possible once more—both of you calling out each other’s name by the time you’ve fully adjusted. 

It’s like this at first—slow and deep—dragging out each thrust to savor the sensation of intimacy. Breathy kisses with exchanged whispers blend with one another, your hands wrapped around his shoulders to keep him close. Fingers gently tugging on his brown locks at the nape of his neck, which only serves to drive him crazier. Making it hard for him to keep his restraint in check.

“Been dying to have you, baby. Fuck, you feel incredible,” he groans out, continuing to bury himself deep into your welcoming heat. But it’s not enough—not for either of you. Not when it does little to help fully unleash all the pent-up hunger that has built up over the course of months. You feel it in the way Bucky grips your hips tight enough to leave bruises to ground himself, and he can feel it in the way your legs wrap around his hips and lock behind him—pushing him in impossibly deeper.

One of you is bound to break soon—and it won’t be you. 

You cup his face in your hands, eyes glazed over and needy as you tell him, “Bucky, don’t hold back. It’s okay. You don’t need to hold back,” you assure him, his pace faltering slightly. Bucky’s blue eyes search yours for a reason not to give in. “I don’t want to hurt you, Y/n. I don’t know if I can trust myself,” the vulnerability in his voice tugs at your heartstrings, your thumbs gently caressing his face to soothe him. He instantly leans into your touch, the comfort it offers addicting. 

You shake your head, planting a soft kiss on his forehead, “You won’t. I trust you, Bucky. I told you—I can handle it, baby—please, baby,” at the term of endearment the rope of restraint inside Bucky snaps. You had never called him baby before, but now that you had Bucky wanted to know what else he had to do—or not do—to keep making you call him baby like that. 

“Keep calling me baby and you’ll get everything you want, beautiful,” Bucky nips at your bottom lip—eyes darkening—turning his pretty blues into a storm. One that’s ready to consume you. He grips your hips harder, picking up his pace until he’s pounding into you with reckless abandon, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your core. You meet his powerful thrusts with equal fervor, a stream of curses and sobs of his name falling from your lips. The counter beneath you shakes and for a moment you’re worried he’s going to break it, but the worry washes away instantly as it feels too good to give a damn. 

“Gonna keep marking you up, doll. Want everyone to see my pretty girl all marked up,” he growls, head dipping down to nip and suck on your neck. Bruising kisses strewn along the delicate skin of your collarbone until his teeth graze your shoulder. Your cunt throbs in time with the relentless onslaught of his cock—bodies synced in pure desire. Every touch, every thrust, every kiss, and every word is a brutal assault on your senses. All filled with his overwhelming want of you. 

“Bucky, s-so good, please…” you plead breathlessly for who knows what. Mind fuzzy and gone, only focusing on the searing pleasure in your veins. Bucky lets out a deep chuckle, lips finding their way to yours, metal hand snaking to palm your breast while his other keeps a tight grip on your hips.“Atta girl—taking me so well,” he grunts out, cunt fluttering at his praise, causing him to let out a half moan half chuckle. You’re close to finishing and he can feel it. 

“Cum for me, doll. Be a good girl and cum for me, baby,” Bucky commands, pounding into you with renewed vigor as he works to get you both to your releases. “Baby…I’m gonna…I’m close,” you whimper out and Bucky's response to you is immediate, his hips snapping forward even faster, harder. His metal hand lowers between your legs to apply pressure and circles to your clit. The sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing through the kitchen—the room forevermore ingrained with the actions of tonight. 

Your body bows off the counter as you scream out his name, your orgasm crashing over you with a hot intensity. Bucky keeps you close and steady, your inner muscles clamping around him like a vice—triggering his climax. Bucky lets out a guttural growl of your name, biting down on your shoulder as his release pours out, burying himself to the hilt as he fills you. The intense contractions milking his shaft for all he’s worth. 

You collapse back onto the counter, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath—body trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Bucky shudders from the force of his climax, cock twitching and pulsing as the last of his cum drips out. His upper body collapses on top of you, holding you close as his face buries into the crook of your neck, both of you trembling with the aftermath of your coupling. He trails loving kisses from your neck to your shoulder, not wanting to be apart from you. 

“You did so good, doll—my doll,” he mutters into your shoulder, kissing the area he had previously bitten, nuzzling the marks he left. You can only muster a breathless whimper as he gradually pulls out of you, your combined arousal spreading along the inner skin of your thighs and down onto the counter. He raises his head just enough to admire his handiwork—you, flushed and disheveled, with multiple bite marks and hickeys proudly displayed across your skin.

"I could get used to this—seeing you like this," Bucky says with a satisfied smirk, his gaze roaming over your figure appreciatively. You let out a breathless laugh, “Yeah? I think I could too, baby…” You can feel the way his cock threatens to harden again, the look in his eyes warning you to not push it. He lowers his mouth onto yours again in a hopeless attempt to silence you. 

“Doll, you can’t say it like that. I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

“What about the party, baby?”

That about does it for Bucky. 

“Screw the party. I’d rather show my pretty girl, my baby—a good time here,” he mumbles against your lips, his breath hot and uneven as he picks you up from the counter. You giggle out a gasp as he carries you over to his bedroom where he does indeed show you a good time—a great time, in fact, all night long. 

Happy Halloween to you. 

[bunnys-kisses]

fox!phillip graves

cw: pwp/smut, hybrid!au, fox!graves, bunny!reader, breeding, pregnancy, innocent!reader, possessive behaviour

bunny says: *big shrug*

graves had a thing about taking in strays. the little bunny who came into his nice home. he was a well to do fox, and he couldn't stand the sight of you there near the edge of his property in so little. you were going to catch a cold!

but don't worry, the fox hybrid would take care of you. he bathed you, dressed you, fed you. he was just smitten by you. he even let you snuggle up with him when he watched the football game on the big television he had.

"do you like that?" he asked as he stroked your ears, "do you know what game this is, little one?" he pushed the hair out of your eyes.

you nodded, "i..i think i do."

he chuckled and got behind those long ears, "aw, well. let me explain the rules to you." he then reached over and pulled the throw blanket further over top of you. you were so frail, something this small and weak should be protected. and graves loved saving the day.

when you saw a streak of orange around the large house he owned, you'd chase after it. usually it was graves' tail. you were just so innocent. over the next few days he'd ask questions about your life before he met you.

you were a virgin, you had no bunnies hidden somewhere, yes the tail was sensitive, and you loved stews. it was honestly endearing. he promised he'd make you all the stews you wanted.

you were often cuddled up beside him. he wasn't a wildling like you, he was a proper man. he told you he led a group of strong men. and you looked up at him with those darling eyes of yours.

"but i thought you were the strongest man."

he chuckled and kissed the top of your head. he rubbed your face, and made you look at him, "i am darlin'."

it wasn't hard to get him to sink his heavy cock into your sweet bunny cunt. he sat on the edge of the bed, naked and his cock at full attention. he watched you strip from the clothes he bought for you. you were still getting used to the cute dressed and delicate fabrics.

there was a lot he had to teach you about the finer things in life. he was aroused at the sight of you. his little bunny. who was sweeter than apple pie and softer than marshmallows. he wondered how you managed to survive this long.

"my little bunny." he purred as he took you by the hips and got you seated on his cock. he'd make sure that his cock was situated firmly against your cervix.

"feels big." you whimpered.

"yeah, yeah. always hurts the first time, but i promise you'll feel good soon." he held onto your softer hips. no longer were you skin and bone. making sure you were fed.

you held onto his shoulders as he started to help you get comfortable with the pace he liked. his tail moved on the bed behind him as he watched you begin to move on your own.

"like a pro, huh? you sure you've never been with a man before."

you shook your head, "no. only you."

well wasn't he special. he hoped you'd get used to this position with time. as it was one of the more comfortable ways to have sex when pregnant with kits. his hands trailed up and down your sides. you'd be making a good mama for his babies.

the pleasure began to curl up in your gut as you continued to ride him. he was right, it was feeling better!

"such a cute little bunny." he purred. he looked perfect from those blue eyes to those perfect teeth. with just a bit of his fangs poking out. bunnies and foxes rarely get along, so it was quite the sight to see two fucking.

your heartbeat was in your throat as you continued to feel his cock nudge up into the deepest parts of you. you ran your nails across his shoulders as you arched your back.

"please, phillip." you whimpered.

He palmed your ass and grabbed it, "good girl." his voice was low, "see you know where you are in the food chain." he chuckled softly, his voice was tinged with venom, "bunnies need to keep their cunts full. reason why you breed so fast. but i think you're more suited to live a comfortable life with me. be full of fox seed." he flashed his white teeth at you.

you covered your face your hands, a little embarrassed by your words. but he took them away from you. he looked into your eyes he held onto your hands in his larger hands. he bucked his hips with a rapid movement.

"don't hide yourself from me. i want to see my mate. don't make me tie you up."

"no, phillip." you whimpered. he placed your hands back on his shoulders and continued to thrust up into you. he controlled the pace, he was a man who had to be in control or else.

he watched your breasts bounce with each thrusts of your hips. you bounced on him like it was a game, but he knew that from the look on your face you were feeling very good.

"pretty bunny." he purred, "i love the sight of your little body fucking yourself onto my cock. i have so much to teach you." he chuckled darkly, "make sure you know how to please your mate. but you're a good learner aren't you?" he took you by the face to look at him square in the eyes.

you nodded, "yes, phillip. i'm a good bunny." you looked so cute, how you stuck out your bottom lip. your head felt hazy as you continued to move against him. your bedroom felt hot as did the pit in your stomach.

"gonna breed your little bunny cunt so nicely." he purred, "that's what you were made for right? for me? that's why nothing else tried to touch you in the forest. no one tainted you for me." his voice was harsh as he felt the rush of pleasure in his body.

you two continued to hump together, the two of you fucked like the animals you were. mating like beasts. he couldn't wait until you were all plush with his kits. he knew you'd be such a good mother to them.

he grabbed at your ass and thrusted up into you even harder. he leaned up and made out with you sloppily. you moaned into the kiss as you both climaxed at the same time.

he slumped a little from the rush to his head. he pressed his face up against your chest as he tried to catch his breath. you held onto him as you started to come down. well, you've never felt something like that before.

when he came to his senses, he looked up at you once more. he smiled, "get on the bed. i ain't done with you. not until it takes." there was a predatory nature in his eyes as you scrambled to get under him once more.

a few sloppy kisses on the lips and he sank his hard cock into you. you kicked out your legs for a moment from the feeling of his heavy cock in you. but then mellowed out, accepting that your bunny cunt was going to be used tonight.

-

you puffed out your cheeks and rubbed your lower back. one kit shifted which awoke the other. it wasn't easy being a bunny taking care of two kits.

graves loved the sight of it though. anything you needed, he got for you. he made sure his bunny mate was taken care of! nothing less than the best for you. you were still quite clingy as you waddled through your large home to find your mate.

you were clay between graves' fingers. he was going to make you into the ideal den mother. and he'd be the proud father of all your children. don't worry there was enough room in the house to make sure that your little babies were all safe and sound.

you found him in his office, what he noticed first was the belly as he entered his field of vision. he reached for it and then your hips to put you down onto his lap. he kissed your neck and his cock stirred in his pants.

"my perfect mate." he chuckled, "just perfect. now why don't you get cozy on the pull out bed and let me finish this." he loved his mate. he loved you so much.

this was a lot better than being in the forest. graves may have fangs. but he'd never hurt his little cotton tailed rabbit. <3

xoxo, bunny

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part four

1,321 words

one two three

Eddie the hobbit, huh? i haven’t read that one (which isn’t saying much cause i've only read books from class) it’s probably good i’d love to hear you talk about it i’d love to hear you talk about anything, though, so maybe i’m biased p.s. i know it makes me sound like an inconsiderate asshole and maybe i am but i’m only now realizing that i don't know if you want me to stop with these i’m sorry if you do promise i’ll figure out a way to ask -H

Eddie finding a way to reply to him about the book gives Steve peace of mind that he doesn’t want him to stop with the notes, but he still feels sort of weird about it. His thoughts go round and round all day and by the time the dismissal bell rings, he has a bit of a headache. 

After checking that he has enough cash on him, Steve goes out to the picnic table behind the school where Mark Jones sells pot most days. 

He makes his way into the clearing only to see someone who is certainly not Mark Jones perched on top of the table. 

Steve stops dead in his tracks.

Eddie grins sharply and holds his arms out wide. “What have I done to be blessed with his highness’ presence?”

Steve wants to talk to him. Wants to tell him to just call him Steve, wants to ask about his book, but all that comes out of his mouth is, “What are you doing here?”

Eddie’s arms drop to his sides, and he raises his eyebrows in question.

“Where’s Jones?” Steve clarifies, taking slow steps forward.

“Ah, I see. You’re here for my wares.” Eddie abruptly jumps from his seat and stretches with a groan that has Steve’s cheeks heating up. Eddie meanders over to the other side of the table before looking back at Steve and tilting his head in amusement. “Unfortunately, Mark has been let go. He had a nasty pilfering habit.” 

Whatever the fuck that means.

Steve can’t help the small smile that grows on his face, but he lifts his hand up to wipe it off inconspicuously. He’s never talked to Eddie before. 

Eddie drops onto the bench and gestures for Steve to sit across from him. As he does, Eddie opens his lunchbox and begins to rifle through it. Steve lets his eyes trail to Eddie’s hands while his focus is elsewhere. This close, Steve can finally see what shape the chunky silver ring is. A skull with fangs. Of course, it’s a skull. He should’ve known. 

Steve thinks about complimenting it but decides it would only make Eddie suspicious, and he doesn’t wanna be found out (yet, he thinks then immediately backtracks. He can’t let anyone know that he’s writing love notes to a boy. Especially not the boy himself. Who knows how Eddie would react. Even though Steve hasn’t been trying to come off as a girl through the notes, and even though no one could possibly mistake his chicken scratch penmanship for that of a girl’s, still. No one can know).

“So.” Eddie claps his hands and Steve’s eyes snap to his face. “What’ll it be, my liege?”

Steve clears his throat. “Uh, I usually just go for a couple of pre-rolls.”

“Mhm, great choice. Prepared these myself.” Eddie swipes a baggie with two in it and holds it out. When Steve goes to grab it, though, Eddie pulls it out of his reach. “Ah ah ah, Harrington, no freebies.”

Steve rolls his eyes and huffs a laugh. “Yeah, alright, man.” He pulls his wallet out and hands him what he usually pays.

Eddie takes the money and counts it leisurely. “You’re five bucks short.”

Steve stares at him deadpan. 

“Birthday fee,” Eddie offers in explanation, shrugging like 'what can you do?’ “Can’t a guy make some extra change for his special day?” Eddie bats his eyelashes.

This boy is trying to kill him. Steve looks heavenward for strength. He counts down from five in his head and only then does he risk looking back at Eddie. “It’s your birthday?”

Eddie grins. “Yup,” he says, popping the p, “Tomorrow. The big one eight.”

Steve stands and tosses a ten onto the table. Eddie passes him the baggie and starts shuffling through his lunchbox. He pulls out a five and holds it out.

Steve waves him off and Eddie peers up at him suspiciously before shrugging and returning the bill to his stash. Steve turns on his heel and begins his journey back to the parking lot. “Happy birthday to me, I guess,” Eddie mutters and Steve smiles to himself. He shoves his hands in his pockets and pivots to walk backwards. 

“Happy birthday, Munson,” he calls, and Eddie’s head snaps up.

Steve grins before turning back around and breaking into a jog. 

It’s not often that Steve finds himself in the thrift store. Not ever, actually, but with all that Eddie complains about capitalism and The Man (who the fuck is the man) and whatnot, he supposes this is his best bet. 

Steve wanders around, not even really knowing what he’s looking for. He’s idly skimming over the women’s jewelry section when he finds it. A silver ring with a blackish blueish stone in the center. It’s not that far off from the one Eddie already has, is it?

Steve tries it on and it’s a bit snug. He’ll admit that he spent far too much time earlier looking at Eddie’s hands and he thinks they were about the same size as his own, if not a bit thinner. 

It’s perfect. 

…He hopes it’s perfect. 

Eddie heard through the grapevine today’s someone’s b-day i left a gift for you under the dealer’s table p.s. it didn’t fit in the locker p.s.s sorry if this is weird but you’ll understand once you see it -H

He jogs to plant the present in its place. He’d rolled the second note up and slipped the ring onto it. It kinda looks like a scroll.

happy birthday eddie i don’t know if you want me to keep writing or if you think it’s weird or what if you want me to stop just don’t wear the ring and i’ll back off i hope you have a good day and that you like the ring <3 p.s. you’re older than me now

Steve is so anxious that he feels nauseous by the time he makes his way back to practice and it must show because coach tells him to take the bench. Tommy shoots him a worried glance but Steve just waves him off.  

By lunchtime, Steve doesn’t think he can look. He doesn’t know why it feels like this. Like Eddie not wearing the ring would be the end of the world. 

He manages to avoid looking for the first ten minutes and is seriously worried that he won’t have the guts to do it. Just as he’s resigned himself to his fate, Tommy groans from where he’s sitting in Steve’s usual seat (he hadn’t questioned the change) and then he cups his hands around his mouth and shouts.

“Get down, freak!”

Steve only just manages to not flinch. Slowly, he turns in his seat. Eddie pays no mind to Tommy other than flipping him off without even looking in his direction or pausing in his speech.

Eddie is currently using a lunch table as a stage as his friends grin up at him, egging him on. He’s passionate about whatever it is he’s talking about. Steve can tell from the way he begins gesturing wildly as he speaks. 

Steve can't tear his eyes away. He feels like he's finally been given permission to look since half of the cafeteria has their attention on him. 

It’s then that Steve glimpses the ring on Eddie's right hand. His ring.

five

tag list (closed)

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@tinyplanet95

sorry if i missed anyone!!

[gamblersdoll]

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔!

a dragon-king! bakugou who finally meets someone who can take him— and maybe this marriage isnt such a bad thing. p in v, virgin! katsuki, (he gets a little bit excited) established relationship, breeding kink/ pregnancy mention.

katsuki hated the fact he was the new heir to the throne, his father passing away and that was truly a part of his sanity. mitsuki was the one who pushed marriage, he had to have a wife and sooner or later, children.

‘in what fucking planet do we live in to where we have to get married, hag?’ he remembers being a teenager and asking that question over and over and over again. just to be hit with a ‘our numbers are depleting, katsuki. we have to do these things in order to survive.’

he still rolls his eyes to the thought, but not now— since his old hag of a fucking mother is actually serious. she actually seeded out women who always wanted to be a woman on the throne, a woman who has seen the dragon queens’ son and wanted to risk it all for him. he despises it, women who throw themselves to a man.

“which one do you like the most, son?” she asks, smile lines on her aged face pulled by her fanged smile. “and hurry, we dont have all day.”

“none of them.” he deadpanned.

“boy— pick one or ill have your head!”

“and everyone wonders how dad died—“ he says, before receiving a smack to the back of his blonde head. “ow!”

“pick one, now.” she repeats, fixing herself and smiling to the line of girls presented to them. “alot of them are just lively.”

he sighs, crimson eyes wandering and his eyes match onto you, seeming like you truthfully didnt want to be here. “you,” he barks, a finger pointed at you and he nods up. “do you not want to be here or something?”

“to be picked by a dragon king who doesnt have anything better to do? absolutely not.” you snort, his eyebrow twitching and mistuki chuckles.

“perfect! we’ll set both of you up on a evening together.” she announces, a good bit of the women groaning and both of you lock eyes. didnt she just hear you werent here on your own will? katsuki scoffs, storming off and a hand dragging down his face.

“please excuse him, he’s not used to these things and doesnt know his duty as the new king.” she phrases, hands on your shoulders and a beaming smile. “youre going to love my son, im sure of it.”

“uh.. okay.” you say, at a lost for words.

you would love her son, huh? yeah, guess you could say that. his temper tantrums died down over the months— yet, one thing was weirder than anything,

that hes never once initiated sex. was he nervous? no, he’s never nervous to sit you on his lap when barking orders to servants or to behead a woman for questioning your intelligence and beauty, so it couldnt be he was nervous.

“bakugou, i have a—“

“woman, ive told you to call me katsuki.” he interrupted, a hand on a hip of yours and a deep grumble in his chest. the tribal jewelry jingled against his skin, a huff from him.

“katsuki, i need to ask you something.” you correct yourself, not daring to look to him— and yet he was staring deep into you. “why dont you ever.. why dont you ever try and touch me?”

he pauses himself at the question, a tight squeeze and then he looks away. “because you ain’ ready yet.” he solemnly says, a hand patting your hip. “ill let you know when.”

“you say that every time, though.” you reply, trying to press the matter further. “whats the real reason?”

he pinches the bridge of his nose, defensively irritated. “because you arent ready, woman.” he growls, agitation reaching his veins. “im not going to sit here and repeat my damn self.”

you get off of his lap, hearing a ‘sit back down’ from his lips and storm off. you werent hurt from his words, but you were questioning them. what in gods hell did he mean ‘you werent ready?’ youre a full fledged adult, not some child who couldnt understand why she couldnt go near the ocean.

maybe a few hours later, your king stumbling in and you both lock eyes. he opens his lips, eyes burning into yours. “im not here to fight with ya,” he says, a hand reaching onto your thigh and he huffs. “i just dont think youre physically prepared, nor mentally.”

“you arent my keeper, katsuki,” you remind, looking over to him and folding your arms in a groan. it was too late for this, especially after doing daily tasks as his wife. “you dont make that decision for me.”

“technically, i do. i dont have to fuck a woman.” he reminds as well.

“and what, do you not want pups?” you ask, his eyes flickering to you and his bouncing knee stops. “or is it im just not doing something for you?”

“not once have i ever said i didnt want children with you, y/n.” he growled, his gripping on your thigh tight. “i just said that you weren’t ready for that kind of thing, what apart of that dont you understand?”

“and how do you know what i am and am not ready for? is it because you havent slept with anyone before?”

he looks at you, straight faced.. you feel a chill go through your body, and you feel as if you had entirely fucked up— forgotten that this was a dragon king that you were married to..

and that you were dealing with.

“the last woman i tried to marry with could barely take anything that i gave her, you want to be next?” he warns, a small ounce of venom tracing his lips and he raised an eyebrow. “watch how you address me.”

“you know damn well thats not what i meant—“

“so what did you mean?”

“i meant if this is your first marriage, your first woman you slept with, ever.” you admit, scrambling for words to better help your case.

“yes and no.” he replies, patting your thigh. “the many women i tried to mate with could barely handle the tip.”

“okay.. so she left you because youre big down there, boo hoo—“

“no, you’re not understanding what i’m saying.” he stops you, grabbing your hands. “im your first dragon man, so..”

“us dragon men, we are bigger than the average human being. thats why we are better suited for dragon women, because their bodies can handle it.” he explained, still staring into you. “you arent ready for that kind of thing yet—“

“yeah, if you dont even attempt with me.”

he runs his hand through his hair, a nervous scoff. “the last woman who said that, her cervix was bruised and she cant have pups now, do you want that for yourself or do you not care about us?”

“katsuki, you dont have to be scared to do this with me.” you say, not even taking into account that he was a competitor, saying such words strikes a chord within him. and his chest swells with pride, him crawling onto you.

“no one is scared, woman.”

dragon men were definitely alot bigger than the average human man, you could feel it against you through the clothes that he wore, and his hands being big enough to wrap around your entire thigh.

his lips leave your neck, a whine coming from your throat and a deep grumble comes from his. he ran hot, his palms heated and sweaty from the passion and him grinding himself into your stomach.

he was needy, he hadnt been this needy in years.

“katsuki..” you mumble, hands along his sides and he kisses your lips, shutting you up.

“you think yer’ ready, little one?” he asks, his eyes blown out and dilated. he had been waiting for this, you can tell. you nod, teeth pulling at the small of your lip corner and he nods with you. his pants fall… and he wasnt lying, being nine inches long and twenty two centimeters wide. you swallow thick, looking down to the second beast he was swinging around. “you like to listen now, dont you?”

you nod, spreading your legs and he licks his lips. you watch his crawl ontop of you, kissing your collarbone and pressing his tip against your folds.

“kat—“ you say, him grunting and looking to you. “dont be nervous, okay?”

he softens a little, immediately forgetting that and hardening again. “let me know when to stop, ‘kay?” he says, pressing his tip and pushing it in.

his eyes widen, hearing you groan from the sudden stretch and he feels heat swell in his stomach. he cant fucking believe it, watching his cock slip deeper into your walls and he starts to pant. his eyes turn to slits, his canines growing sharper and wider— he was losing himself, realizing he’d finally met a woman who can take more than just the tip of his dragon cock.

“katsukiiiii..” you whine, a hand on his pelvis and he growls. “see..? im okay.”

he licks his lips, saliva pooling at the corner and then dribbling down the side of his mouth. “no fuckin way..” he growls, gripping your hips and jerking his hips. “fucking half way.. half way.” he repeats to himself, bottoming out and he claws at the sheets.

the dragon king holds your hips, raising them a little and then pulling you up, slowly pulling you back down and letting you adjust to his size. “give it to me..” he growls out, it being a echo.

“give you what..?” you ask, chest heaving and nipple hardened.

“your grace, give me the go ahead to take you.” he repeats, seeing you nod and pressing your legs to his chest. he licks at your calves, seeing the fire inside of his eyes while his cock drives into your cervix. “fuck! take all of it— take it all!” he growls, folding you up and slamming his body weight against your thighs.

slapping of wet skin, slick and creamy folds echo throughout the dragon kings bedroom—the dragon king becoming animalistic and he grabs your breasts in each hand. “katsukikatsukikatsuki!” you chant his name, eyes rolling and you cant remember how many orgasms youve been through from the dragon king.

“fuck— fucking have them, have my fucking pups!” he rumbles, nails digging into you as crescent moons into your skin and he presses his forehead to yours. “carry my kids, fucking take them— getting fucked fat with my kids— fuckk!”

he groans, pulling you down onto his cock as he stills. his cock gets pushed out, the dragon kings’ semen being in so much amounts it forces it out. he pants, ragged breaths and he falls against you, his body returning to his original state and his eyes return normal.

“katsuki?”

“mm.” he grunts, looking up to you and his face gets covered by your plush breasts.

“i dont want to say i told you so…

but i told you so.”

“do you remember when you thought i would die from having sex with you?” you say, sitting in the bathtub and bubbles cover your wet skin. “you were so nervous.” you chuckled, putting your hands on your round belly.

“yeah.. was kind of a punk for that.” he chuckles, smile lines, but yet— frown lines pulled from his chuckle. “you look gorgeous, beautiful.” he praises, kissing your cheek and putting a hand on your belly. “water too hot?”

“im carrying dragons, katsuki.” you remind, raising your hand to his cheek and caressing it. you feel his smile, and his lips press to yours. “the midwife should be here, soon.”

she was already there, both of you being enamored with each other to miss the part that was most important.

“what do you mean she’s having triplets?!”

[luveline]

If you’re doing requests could you do KBD during Halloween?

uncle Eddie makes sure Steve has the perfect costume. mom!reader

Steve smiles at himself in the mirror. Wren, in his arms, smiles back. 

“We look handsome,” he says, lifting her so her face is level with his own. “I look handsome. You look beautiful.” 

“Hi,” she says. 

Steve turns down to her. “Hi, baby.” 

Avery climbs onto a chair and waves at the mirror. Her fairy princess dress is shiny blue. “Hello.” 

Beth climbs onto the chair after her, wrapping her arms around Avery’s shoulders. “Hi!” she says, force of her greeting sending her pirates hat careening to the floor. 

“Are you ready?” you call from upstairs. “Everyone still has their shoes on?” 

“Dove doesn’t,” Avery says. 

“Tattle!” Dove cries, a picture of fury in her kitty cat onesie, her glued-on whiskers twitching fiercely.

“Well, you don’t.” 

“My toes are warm,” Dove whines, thrusting herself at Steve’s legs. “Daddy, she’s telling on me.” 

“I know, and now you’re telling on her. You’re my little band of tattle-tales, I don’t love it.” Steve smooths along Wren’s face with his finger and takes in a breath big enough to fill his lungs. “Can you let Beth put your shoes back on?” 

“No.”

“Yeah, I didn’t think so.”

You fit Dove into her shoes and get the kids to the car. Four car seats is tough work but nothing you can’t handle, and you’re still in chipper spirits when you arrive at the Munson house. It’s decked out in cobwebs and great big spiders made of tinsel and bendy framing, carved pumpkins leading up the steps with fleshy teeth and candles unburned in their maws. Wren gives a comical gasp when she sees it all, a tad scared but quickly soothed when you pretend to be scared too. 

Beth races up the steps first to knock. 

The door opens a slither. 

“Who goes there?” a dark voice asks. 

“Uncle Eddie, it’s me!” Beth says quickly. Her excitement again sends her hat to the stone patio beneath her cons, but she doesn’t notice it, vying to squeeze through the door and see her favourite uncle. 

“I don’t know any Me’s. You’ll have to come back another day, I’m waiting for my very favourite troupe of little girls.” 

“It’s BETH!” Beth shrieks, “Come on!”

“Bethany?” Eddie pushes the door open, unsurprised when Beth throws herself full force into his legs. “Why, you look dastardly. How very scary of you! You have a parrot!” 

The fake parrot glued to Beth’s shoulder waggles. 

“His name is Sherbet.” 

“Wow.” Eddie gives her a hug, his eyes blowing wide over her shoulder. “Oh, wow! Ave, you’re a princess with wings! And Dove, meow.” He grins at Steve. “And your dad is what, Frankenstein’s monster? A zombie?”

“Dad doesn’t have a costume,” Beth says happily. 

“Are you sure?” 

Steve encourages Dove over the threshold, four wrapped plates of sandwiches and finger foods balanced in the other hand. “That’s not funny. What are you supposed to be, anyways?” 

“I’m a vampire, duh.” Eddie slips a pair of fake fangs into his teeth. “I vant to suck your blood!” 

“Ew, Uncle Eddie,” you say. 

“Don’t think you’ve escaped me, second favourite Harrington,” Eddie says, frowning as you slip around him. “You owe me a hug.” 

“Creep,” Steve says. 

“With pride.” Eddie takes the plates from his arms and somehow, the Harrington troupe makes it safely indoors, no further costume parts fallen nor lost. 

There are more people here than Steve expected, Eddie’s friends, their kids, even Eddie’s elusive boyfriend sits out in the open. 

“What are you supposed to be?” Dove asks him with a grin. 

He turns his head to show a painted bite mark on his neck. “Victim.” 

“He’s a dead guy,” Eddie tells her, helping her where she’s struggling to sit in one of the barstools. “Alright, babe, dad said last year we partied too hard, so here are the ground rules. No pixie sticks, no soda, and no climbing on the kitchen counters. If you follow these rules, I am being allowed to give you a Hershey bar the size of your dad’s massive head. Deal?” 

“How big?” Dove questions suspiciously. 

Eddie goes to the cabinet. Inside, there’s more candy bars than one person should ever have purchased in one go. He pulls out a huge one and holds it nexts to Steve’s head, laughing when Steve bats it away. “Huge.” 

“Dad, dad, can I go play with Milly and Joe?” Avery asks. 

Steve was hoping she would. “Sure, baby. Good manners, okay?” 

Avery whizzes off to find Gareth’s kids. Beth stays by Steve’s side and he forces himself to believe that it’s him she wants to be with, not Eddie. “You don’t wanna go play?” Steve asks her. 

“Not yet.” 

You appear again where you’d been missing with Robin in tow. Steve grins at the sight of her, though he’d spoken to her on the phone last night, and seen her the day before at home. “Buckley!” 

She’s wearing a black dress with a belt and her hair is teased into a short cloud. “You aren’t wearing your costume?” 

Steve moves Beth around unthinkingly. “Yeah, it still smelled like vomit. Wren had too much yoghurt. Rob, you really look like Madonna. Your makeup is–”

“It’s trippy, right?” Eddie asks. 

“Mora did it. It’s like, face sculpting.” 

“It’s weird.” 

“I like it,” you say, Wren on your hip giving an agreeable gurgle. “I like your real face more, but this is cool.”

“And where’s your costume?” Eddie asks. 

You frown down at your nice dress. “You can’t tell?” 

Eddie falls for the trip in your voice and attempts to backtrack, only realising that you’re kidding when Steve laughs. 

“The baby got sick on both of us,” you say, turning Wren so everyone in the kitchen can see her face. “But that’s okay. She’s so cute, she’s forgiven. Aren’t you, gorgeous? You didn’t mean to eat all that yoghurt, daddy just kept feeding you.” 

Steve holds his hands up in surrender. “I feed her every day, I know how much yoghurt she can handle.” 

“Clearly not,” you croon, shooting him a loving smile. “You did save us from those awful costumes, though.” 

“Oh, worry not,” Eddie says, “I figured something like this would happen, and I’ve prepared.” 

Awesome, Steve thinks, groaning as Eddie takes his wrist into his hand and begins to pull on him. Knowing Eddie, Steve’s end up dressed as a demon with giant horns, or a fairy. 

The reality is much, much worse. 

“Hey, look at that! It still fits!” Robin laughs. 

Steve looks down at his little sailor’s uniform and sighs. “Barely,” he says. 

“Say the slogan!” you demand. 

If it were anyone else, Steve would refuse, but you’re sitting at the breakfast bar with Wren tucked under your chin, so he takes a deep breath and straightens his white hat. “Ahoy ladies,” he sighs. “Would you like to… uh, set sail on this ocean of flavour with me? I’ll be your captain, I’m…” —his voice drags reluctantly— “I’m Steve Harrington.”

[dimepdf]

★  𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇-𝐀, 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐄. + 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀

masterlist. / taglist. / tip jar. synopsis. no matter how many times you try to convince yourself that Miguel is the bane of your existence, the way you react during training proves otherwise.

─── ☆ notes. i need fics of miguel being an absolute dick, like a petty bitch just for the hell of it i need more attitude yk? Like if that man isn't calling me a slut it ain't canon! | — feedback is always welcomed & don't forget to reblog 🤍

─── ☆ length. 4.3k (33 min read).

─── ☆ genre and warnings. +18 nsfw under the cut. minors dni | no spoilers | smut, enemies to lovers, maybe mutual pining, fighting and violence, semi public sex, gym sex, mentions of abuse, size difference, pain kink, strength kink, degradation kink, manhandling, power play(?), begging, rough sex, cervix kissing, choking, fangs, biting, marking, cunnilingus, eye contact, hair pulling, creampie, open ended, not an taiyo fic without a few typos.

IF YOU ASKED any of the other Spider-men what they loved so much about being Spider-Man, their answers would all be the same, ranging from "the suit" to "the enhanced abilities." It was a no-brainer that being a superhero came with a few awesome perks.

Which was why your answer was just a bit confusing, "the combat." You would always smile, despite the many eyebrows raises and looks that convinced you you had to be some type of overcover masochist, especially since you would never really go into true detail about why.

Your reasoning behind putting on the mask was similar to all the others: another traumatized kid being thrown into a whole new reality that you never would have dreamed of being possible.

Sadly, you had been raised with the loss of most of your loved ones, and your family was in shambles from the abuse you would go through from them. It was the reason why it was difficult for you to grow up and make many friends, let alone navigate your abilities on your own accord, which was why it was a whole different ball game when you first joined the spider society.

When you first met Miguel O'Hara, you thought he was an overly intimidating man with an even more scary personality. Your aesthetics and morals would clash in the first few run-ins you would have with him.

In all honesty, you first thought him to be a massive dick who surprisingly needed more therapy than you did. From his bored expression to his unnerving glare, it was clear upon the first introduction that you two just would not get along.

Which was why the universe made him the only spider person willing and with enough free time to train you. It came as a surprise to you both, who are usually butting heads. Miguel was adamant about not wanting to waste his time training some little girl who didn't even know how to throw a punch.

With much shit-talking on your part and a lot of teasing claims of him being afraid that you were going to kick your ass, training had quite literally started in full swing.

It was probably a bad move on your part to push the buttons of the guy who was teaching you how to fight. Miguel was clear with his fight-style techniques. He was nimble with his limbs and swift on his feet. It was hard for anyone to get a hit on him, especially since he wasn't the type to hold back his punches. 

His teaching style was the same: your sessions included throwing you around as if you were some ragdoll and picking you up as if you weighed nothing, just to slam you into the ground with full bruising force.

There would be some very rare occasions when you would manage to get the upper hand on him. Miguel was about a foot taller than you, not to mention how pathetically compressed you looked standing next to him. You learned that the only way you could manage to get the upper hand was by using your size difference to your advantage.

All the sessions you won were hosted by you managing to tangle yourself from his claws and climb his towering figure into a headlock, praying that you had enough strength in your legs to make him tap out.

"How is she not dead yet?" Miles would mutter, looking concerned, as he stood from the sidelines of the training room, watching one of your sessions, as the blonde by his side didn't even wince at the sound of Miguel untangling you from the headlock you had him in.

His arms moved faster than you could process as he managed to loosen your hold enough to slam the air from your lungs as you fell back facing against the mat so hard that even Miles was convinced he could feel the blow in the lower spine.

"I mean, at this point, I'm kind of convinced she’s turned into his personal punching bag." Miles strains to watch Miguel not even wipe a sweat as he sprung back on his feet. He stretched out his full body, towering over you, curled flat against the mat, trying to collect your breathing as well as your broken ego.

Gwen nodded in agreement. "I don't even know how someone could hit someone so...squishy? She’s just so cute." She muttered, watching with her arms crossed. 

"This punching bag needs to learn that in the real world, people aren't going to go as easy on her just because she’s cute." Miguel, despite glaring at the two bystanders, leaned down and yanked you back onto your stumbling feet. 

Your fingers combed through the matted curls now drenched in sweat away from your forehead, using your water break as the perfect excuse to help cover up the reaction to the sudden compliment that came from his lips and the way he had made you feel.

"And her being my personal punching bag is completely at her fault, if you want to learn how to fight, you have to learn how to take a few punches." You couldn't help but roll your eyes and wave your hand out in annoyance at another one of Miguel O’Hara’s famous lectures.

"I’m not a punching bag, did you not see the hold I had on him early?" You huffed, almost choking on your water, trying to protest. Gwen humored your claim, the blonde reaching out and rubbing your shoulder out of support as you continued with your defense. "Any tighter, and I would have easily snapped his neck."

Of course, Miguel only smirked as you continued grasping at straws at the point of trying to prove to your friends your improvement, his eyes flitting back and forth at the exchange, expressionless at the sight of you managing to still joke around as if you weren't about to pass out from fatigue at any second.

"And was that before or after the part where I kicked your ass, little girl?" He shot out, chipping away at the final lock that held back your annoyance, you hadn't even had time to process the insult before he bumped his shoulder into you on his way out of the training room.

His rude exit enticed a round of reactions from Miles and Gwen trying their awkward best to comfort the boiling pot of anger they saw written all over your face, rolling your eyes, you pushed past the two, not without grumbling a string of insults in Miguel’s name to the washrooms.

You blessed the spider lords for somehow having the ability to shower under running water, let alone the unexplainable strange amount of amenities that the spider society dimensions had. 

Like a web shooter's wonderland, you quickly shed the sweating clothes you trained in and stepped foot into the cold cubicle shower booth, letting the water run for a bit until enough steam fogged clouded stepping under the stream. Even with the hot water splashing pressure against your aching muscles, no amount of water could manage to wash away the annoying feeling in your legs. 

It was enough of a jab at your pride to even find Miguel attractive in the first place, and here your body was betraying you once more, begging, throbbing desperately for his every touch in its every form, and having the nerve to grow more intense during your training.

The feeling had yet to fully disappear the next day, even with your session starting off with you fueled from yesterday's comments. You tried pushing the feeling as you were just ready to have Miguel mutter another word insult with the ass kick you were ready to give him. It was the only possible explanation for why you were so jittery about getting to training on time.

"It took you long enough." Was the first thing you heard Miguel announce throughout the empty room.

He wasn’t wearing his suit—neither of you did while training—instead, he was wearing dark gray sweatpants paired with some random dark red graphic shirt that fit him a bit too snuggly to leave room for imagination around his arms.

"Almost thought you were gonna skip out."

You were aware enough to spot this quick observation of your outfit as well. Keeping it casual and opting for better mobility, you shimmied yourself into plain Nike shorts that stopped higher up than you had expected them to on your thighs with a loose tank top that peeked out the straps of your sports bra.

Nothing about your clothes screamed attention grabbing—at least that's what you thought before you caught Miguel’s red-tinted stare on the way your shorts hugged your thighs.

He glanced away, muttering something in Spanish you couldn't quite translate the moment your fingers fidgeted with the bottom hems of the shorts, tugging them slightly more down while deciding to break the tense silence that had managed to sneak up on you. "So what are we doing today?"

"Huh, I’ve been thinking." He answered, followed by the clearing of his throat, "We try something a little different." You could never get used to the roughness of his voice or the way he spoke with so much arrogance that it reminded just about everyone that he thought he was better than just about everyone.

Even now that you stepped towards the middle of the mat, standing rigidly just a few paces away from him, you could tell from that stupid, cocky expression as he stood looking down at you that there was no possible way that he would ever see you as a real threat. "I want you to try to hit me." 

Your brows creased together in confusion. 

"What?" was all you asked, which seemed to be the wrong question to ask as Miguel stretched out a sigh from his mouth, his hands coming close to his to pinch the bridge of his nose. 

"I said hit me." He speaks more slowly, making sure to mockingly over pronounce every symbol in every word as if you were a child. "Preferably soon and as hard as you can." A grimace finds itself twisting on your lips before you can even process your bubbling annoyance. Your body moved on autopilot because of your keen senses, jumping over the swing of his left leg with ease.

You couldn't say that swift grace stuck with your attempt at a counterattack. Bending your knee just enough to reach out and kick, you were only met with the bottom of your foot stomping flat against the floor mat and Miguel dodging your kick, standing just a few paces away. "Too predictable," he scolded in that annoyingly deep voice you hated oh so much and totally did not turn on you at all. You sprung yourself up by the heels of your feet and charged at him with full determination to land at least one punch on his stupidly chiseled, handsome face.

It had been your second mistake, giving him too much time to brace himself. Already regretting your emotionally impulsive start, resulting in the punch you swung being easily deflected by Miguel.

His hand wrapped entirely around your wrist, bending your arm almost out of your socket and kicking the back of your knee to the mat with his heel. You feel down to a kneel with a hissing pain in your arm threatening to get worse at any wrong twist.

"Lose that fucking attitude, or you’ll get sloppy." As if your body could radiate any more anger, you knew he was just trying to push your buttons, trying to throw you off your game with smack talk that was not working on you or anything.

"Again," he prompted, letting your arm go and stepping back, egging on another attack from you.

"Give me a damn minute." No matter how much you wanted to snap back at him with something snarky, you knew it would only prove his point entirely—not only that but also the fact that he was mentally hitting you in all the places that he knew counted the most to throw you off your game. 

Biting back the insult you already had threatened to slip from your tongue instead of making a point by rolling your eyes as you stumbled back to your feet. Rolling your sore shoulder back as your eyes scan over his stance, trying to find the best opening for a better attack, you steady your breath and cloud your mind in thought. "You aren't going to get anywhere but dead standing around like that, you know."

So much for wanting to consider your options. Miguel took the first swing at you and was on the verge of kicking you on your ass if it weren't for your shoddy dodge.

"Didn't you just say I had to be less fucking predictable?" You snarled, lifting your foot with most of your weight pointed in the direction of his jaw. Surprisingly, the kick landed just not in the place you wanted it to; instead, Miguel’s arm blocked the blow, much to your annoyance.

"I also said—" All he was doing was using dodging moves on you, swiping your other foot from under you as he held the other one that you kicked up in his arm, resulting in you landing once again flat on your ass. "to lose that fucking attitude."

You had not gone down without a fight, twisting and kicking, trying to wrestle your limbs free by any means. Miguel had almost embarrassingly quickly ceased your squirming, his palm cuffing your arms and pressing hard against your chest as his other hand pressed tightly into your thighs, folding your legs in place under his hips.

The position was interesting, to say the least, but you still had some fight in you, wiggling against his grip with any strength you had left to break free. It was a useless battle, but the man had his grip around you tight as well as an overpowering size difference that blanketed your entire figure like one big rock.

And that's how you caught yourself in another web of misfortune. Your nerves are surging at the feeling of something—him brushing against your calf. Maybe it was all the adrenaline pumping through your veins or the fact that you were practically being manhandled so easily that did another thing to your body, or maybe it was just pure horny instability that your brain couldn't even process the lewd whine that tugged from your throat after the fact that it had happened.

Watching in pure horror as Miguel loomed on top of you, his mouth slightly agape as his chest heaved and his brows pulled together, the embarrassment from his confused, almost offended looking expression hit you fast. Here your body was betraying you once more, this time going absolutely haywire and melting like a stupid pile of putty at the fact that you were being body pressed against some mat with some guy's hard junk pressed into your leg.

You couldn't bear to even look him in the eye anymore, your head tilting to the side, pressing your cheek into the mat, and squeezing your eyes closed, not suddenly envying the spidermen with teleportation powers. "Fucking Christ, can you get off now?"

A beat of silence hovered between the small distance between you two, neither moving nor talking. It was starting to become unbearable how tightly Miguel had folded your legs against him, in the sense that you could already feel his body heat radiating. The close proximity did not help with how unbearably your heart was beating against your chest. "How do you manage after all of that to still have that shameless fucking attitude?"

You stilled at how his voice had managed to cut through your own thick cloud of betraying thoughts as well as the ringing in your eardrums. "Shameless? As if you don't have your dick pressed against me right now."

"By the sounds of it, you don't seem that bothered at all." Miguel taunted, You thought you were bound to die of embarrassment.

Yeah, this is how you went out—by dying from the sheer effect of your own extremely horny though—not some overpowered supervillain with a vendetta against you but Miguel O'Hara and his dick print.

You could already hear the new taunts that he would use against you, "Not even in your fucking dreams." being the only comeback that you could muster, your limbs tingling with slight pins and needles, threatening to go stiff under his unbound grasp. 

"Oh, like you wouldn't love to," he sneered, shifting the weight from his hips flat against your thighs. "Probably thinking about me taking off these tight fucking shorts and having my way with you?" Your body reacted first to the accusation, cursing under your breath as you felt your second heartbeat flutter in between your legs.

His lingering stare hadn't helped one bit, and you watched from the sidelines as his eyes raked over your body with interest.

"I bet this was your plan the entire fucking time, huh?" He asked, leaning in as the distance dwindled until you could feel the brush of his breath against your face. "Put on some sweet naive act in front of everyone, knowing that you're getting yourself off on me throwing you around, touching yourself like some bitch in heat."

You hadn't bothered covering the whine that parted from your lips at the feeling of his erection slowly rutting against your thigh, the cocky smirk on his lips wanting you to melt away against the mat.

Miguel practically growled at the pathetic sounds that parted from your lips, tugging your legs apart to rut his hips down against your core. You shivered at the intrusion of his bulge pressed against your eagerness, the foreign feeling of him grinding against you left your thoughts in a dizzy fog.

"What? Can’t fucking speak now," he said as if he were dangling your most prized possession in front of your face, his fingers creeping into dangerous territory, making it a point for his fingertips to drag down your lower torso only to halt right above the elastic waistband of your shorts. "Go on, use your words."

"...fuck you."

The small amount of distance made the space between you two fall tensely thick, and the words spoken from your lips were different from the feelings that made your heart thud against your ribs. You weren't stupid, you knew Miguel could sense it, he could sense just about everything about your body from how close he kneeled on top of you.

Maybe that was why he had closed the distance so quickly after, letting the tight grip around your wrists give way to his hand finding a new objective, wrapping his fingers around your neck, not bothering to be gentle as he guided your lips towards his. The kiss was as rough as you had dreamed it to be. Eager for each other's kiss, you couldn't even process the noise that vibrated sharply from your throat before Miguel could pull away first, leaving you panting for more of his touch.

"First time I've ever seen you so quiet," his deep taunts were starting to grow unbearable, shifting your hips at the brush of his fangs against the jugular of your neck with every word, "who knew all you needed was some dick?" The harsh kisses he left trailing down to your collarbone made you feel like a hot, needy mess of putty. If it weren't for the tight grasp he had on your body, you were convinced that you would feel like you'd melt into some type of puddle. The growing frustration had only started to build up more as Miguel let go of your thighs, his hand trailing between your legs ruthlessly as the bud of his fingers rubbed against your clothed pussy. 

As for why you shifted your hips up and let him impatiently tug and yank at the bow knotted around the waist of your shorts, breaking away from the red splotching light bruises already forming against your brown skin and wiggling you out of your shorts, Miguel thought it was quite the image, his eyes were fixated on the drooling sight of you under him, so vulnerable with your thighs hugging to your chest, spread open, revealing yourself in your pants.

All sanity was thrown out the window the moment he tugged you closer by your knees, your lower half lifted in his arms just enough for him to sit face to face with your cunt. His eyes darkened, his pupils blown as his tongue lapped over his lips, leaving you feeling restless. It was a slow and almost painful battle of trying to reach down and shove his face closer or buck your hips as his fingers sheathed and explored themselves against the fabric of your underwear.

As if Miguel could read your mind, his fingers hooked the fabric under the bend of his finger, followed by a quick tearing sound. "I’ll get you new ones," the comfort emitting a whine from your throat as you couldn't even scowl at him for ruining your underwear because you were too busy admiring the work his fingers were doing. Without warning, Miguel leans in closer, the warmth of his mouth almost sending you into a frenzy as his fingers spread open your lips, his lips sucking at your clitoral area, prompting you to let out a very lewd moan.

"Too loud," Miguel mumbled against your pussy, too busy webbed up in your own pleasure to even notice how every embarrassedly sloppy wet noise had seemed to perfectly echo throughout the empty room. You couldn't even explain the number of emotions that were flowing through you, from shame from being tongue fucked and fingered against the floor about the one man you hated so much to bashfulness from holding eye contact with him as he lay between your legs and ate your pussy like he was starving for you.

"I can't help it," you whined, shivering at the string of spit that contacted Miguel as he lifted his head in an idea. It took a second to process Miguel picking you up and turning you on your stomach, his hands guiding your hips up and stripping your torn panties down your legs to stuff them in your mouth.

Without a word, Miguel grabbed your ass with another hand, guiding your lower back into an arch as the other made small indents from his nail bearing into your cheeks as he spread them apart.

Before you could even feel embarrassed at the new position, he shoved his face between them, your moan being muffled by your makeshift cloth gag that worked a bit too well in lowering your whines as Miguel’s mouth sought his tongue out for your pussy once more.

"You're close I can smell it," you almost missed Miguel's groan over your building ecstasy, "just let it go, baby, let me take care of you. That's what you want, right?" His voice is drastically different from his usual rough, rude tone, softened to something of a coo that has managed to unknot your pleasure with his tongue. Your body tensed against his mouth for a moment as he had the nerve to suck his fingers clean. No grace period was given before he could lift you once more with a grunt, laying you flat on your back.

Slotting himself back between his legs, Miguel chuckled at the dazed look on your face. "It's alright, baby, I can take it from here." taking the balled up drool covered panties from your mouth and instead replaced them with his lips. The sensual change of pace wasn't enough to stop the shiver that rid your nerves of the feeling of his bare cock rutting against your slit, using his thumb to spread your lips apart to sink his tip inside of you with a low hiss against your mouth.

A gasp left yours as his girthy length intruded deeper inside of you, the burying stretch of his dick having your nails roughly grasping at the nape neck of his hair tugging a handful as his pace hadn't bothered to even get familiar already. Miguel’s hips weren't letting out as he fucked you almost animalistic against the floor. You were convinced he was trying to fuck you into the mat, to be one with the floor, which would perfectly explain the rough pace that left you breathless with each piston of his hips. 

The graphically lewd sounds of your weak groans were nothing compared to the pornographic sound of your skin meeting his, your brain empty with nothing but greed, wanting to take everything and more of what Miguel was giving you. His fingers reach to unwrap your fingers tangled in his hair to intertwine them in his. "That's it, mama, that's it," he whispers against the shell of your ear, earning a whimpering reply from you, almost close to spilling the tears clouding your waterline.

Your mind couldn't process anything other than how good Miguel’s dick felt being shoved inside of you, his cock dragging against your tight, flustering walls with each shaky breath brushed against your ear. Your cunt seemed to react to Miguel’s lashes tickling against your neck as his eyes screwed tightly shut, muttering a string of compliments in his mother tongue.

You weren't lucky enough to be more stable, surprised that your throat hasn't gone horse with how ruined your vocal cords sounded in the pace of his pistoning hips. Only going up an octave higher as one of Miguel’s hands reaches down to pay attention to your clit, he doesn't stop even when your limbs start to tremble from your climax. 

With one last hard thrust, he finally stills, your name being the only thing you could make out through his mumbling as his unfamiliar warm sensation welcomed itself inside of you. 

Groaning right in your ear, he cums inside of you with his entire dead weight pressed against you, caging you against the floor. "Alright," Miguel sighs, settling on top of you once more with his arms holding himself just a few inches away from your face. "Again."

🔖 @adonis-is-dead-lmaoo @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @inumakiiz @iheartlinds @creamyarishi @marzipaanz

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[cherrywrecked]

bite me — yu jimin.

summary: reader's favorite time of the year is halloween, her favorite mythical creatures are vampires and her fuck buddy, karina, has a developing biting kink.

cw: g!p idol!karina. vampires. aphrodisiac. rough sex with rina. pussy slapping. dirty talking. no condoms. dom!karina.

halloween was long far done, but to you, every day was halloween. i mean, it is your favorite time of the year; anybody could be anyone. you can be a sexy doctor or nurse, a slutty firefighter, a cheerleader, hell, you can even be a fucking vampire. everybody could wear whatever we want with zero judgement and that's what you liked about halloween best. but i honestly you won halloween 2023. you were so committed to it, you even got vampire fangs. crazy? maybe, but your sexual partner loved it best. she only saw it online, but still, who's crazier between the two of you?

karina had been away for a few months for their tour and unfortunately, you weren't together last halloween, but she's now home for the holidays, and it wouldn't be karina if she didn't have anything prepared for me when you got to her apartment. the moment you walked inside the pad, all you could smell was the enticing scent of a dark, elegant and sexy perfume—it was scented candles. it was all over the hallway, as if forming a path for you to walk through. just a few steps away from me was her table and there was a glass of wine atop of it with a note which read, “come straight to my room after you're done with this.” you took your time with the wine, but as soon as you were done with it, you went straight to her room which you didn't have a hard time looking for.

there, karina was sitting on a single couch, a leg crossed over the other. she looked stunning with her black jeans and tight crop top that hugged her beautiful frame. “took you a while since i heard you enter.” she said as she got up from the couch and slowly walked towards you. “it's been a while.” she whispered, face close to yours. she looked so pretty but you started feeling lightheaded and moreover, hot. “karina, why the fuck do you have your ac off?” you asked to which karina only laughed at. she took another step closer, and another, until she pushed you in her bed.

“oh, sweetheart. still as gullible as the first time, aren't you?” she smirked as her index finger traced your chest down to your cleavage through your black lace top. her touch brought shivers down your spine, moreso when she ripped your top open. she was scaring you as you've never seen her like this. “the wine... did you put something in it?” you muttered, biting on your lower lip to bite back the whimpers itching to escape as her fingers played with my nipples. karina smirked, humming. “smart girl, why, is it taking effect already?” you blushed and sure enough, it was. your body was aching for her. instead of replying, you pulled her into a hungry kiss, one arm snaking around her neck as if locking her body close to yours, whilst the other roamed around her body, eventually taking her top off, leaving the both of you now topless.

you felt karina run her tongue along your lips which you then parted and let her in—your tongues danced, fighting for dominance, but you both know she'd win. you can feel yourself get so turned on and wet through your panties just by the kiss. “rina, i need you.” you whispered when she brought her lips to your jaw, tracing the kisses down your neck. she didn't reply, she instead used her hand to cup your womanhood through your panties under your skirt, eliciting a long moan from you. her hands feel so soft against you, you needed more.

moving your hips, you started to hump her palm, palming myself as she kissed your neck, nibbling on patches of your skin to mark her territory. “you enjoy this, don't you? look at your slutty waist, moving on its own.” she chuckled lowly against your ear before pulling away only to take the remaining pieces of clothing off your body. your nipples are so hard and you could already feel your wetness dripping down your cheeks. it's the first time you felt so horny, so needy and all you could think of is her— you wanted her.

“karina, please. i need you. fuck me, mhm? i'll be good. please.” you said as you reached out to hold her. karina only slapped your hands away and roughly spread your legs. she got in between them, her knee pressed against your cunt. you mumbled another profanity and karina's face got closer to you. she only stared at you; “move.” she commanded and you instantly knew what she meant— your hips automatically moved on its own. as if rubbing your clit against her thigh wasn't enough, karina started to slap your mounds alternately. it was too much, your moans started to get higher with every slap. as your skin gets redder with every slap, karina's smirk grew wider—even more when she took notice of the fangs you've had done.

knowing your mounds are already sensitive, karina pulled you in and put one of your nipples into her mouth, licking, sucking and lightly nibbling on it as she played with the other with her hand. karina felt your body shiver, and with one hard suck, your body collapsed on top of her. “you love being a slut for me, mhm?” karina whispered against your skin, earning a loud, whining from you as a response. karina, she thinks—no, she knows she owns your body. she knows it even more than you do, so it wasn't hard for her to know when you're already close to cumming. not saying another word, she used her free hand to palm your clit, making you bury your face against her neck, but the moment she slipped two fingers inside of your hole swiftly which pushed you over the edge, cumming, biting karina's shoulder. she winced it pain, yet groaned from the painful yet pleasurable feeling of your sharp teeth against her soft skin. “rina, rina—!” not even letting you compose yourself, karina started to thrust her fingers in and out roughly of your entrance. collapsing on top of her, pushing her over the bed, your body wiggles, pushing your bottom more against her fingers, grinding against her palm.

“t-that feels s-so good—fuck. more, please! mommy, please, more.” it was the nickname that sparked something in karina. she pulled her fingers out, rolling your bodies over. now with her on top of you, she kisses you on the lips, letting her tongue graze over the sharpness of your fangs. “wait here.” she says as she pulled away, leaving you breathing heavily and still, needy. you started to play with your nipples, tears forming your eyes as you grind your hips against the empty space karina was once were. rubbing your clit, you moaned out her name, and as if on queue, karina was back, naked and a lubricant on her hand. “naughty girl, who told your to touch yourself?” she clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth, as she opened the bottle of lubricant, smearing some over your sensitive clit, the coldness of the gel making you shiver. hovering over your torso, her dick sticking out, poking against your mouth. “suck.” with sparkly eyes, you looked up at her as you opened your mouth and took her in. you sucked, licking along the tip of her cock, earning a low grown from karina. “mhm, you take me in so good.” she said before thrusting her hips, forcing her full length inside your mouth, deep throating, suffocating you. she pulls herself back, a string of your saliva and her precum trailing from your lips and her tip.

“karina, i need you to fuck me, please.” your voice was weak and shaky, almost sounding like you're about to cry, but it was just from karina teasing her tip against your clit and your entrance. “yeah? beg for it.” karina laughed menacingly while you could only while as you reached your hand out for her, the other pressing her length against your cunt. “rina, baby... mommy, please. please, please! i'm your good girl, please, fuck me.” karina loved it. she loved hearing your voice so needy, she loved looking at your desperate eyes, she loved that you were so desperate for her and only her.

karina didn't waste any more time and slid her length inside of you, making you arch your back while letting out a long, loud moan in pleasure. karina didn't move, letting you adjust to her length, but she let out a chuckle of amusement as you desperately reached your hand for her, eager to hold her—touch her, as if her body's not against yours just yet. karina started to roll her hips, making you wince yet moan out in both pain and pleasure. god, you were so wet for her and karina loved that atop of it all. with or without the fucking drugs, the both of you knew that only she can make you this fucking turned on. karina started to thrust in you, moaning your name every time her length completely disappears inside your cunt. her dick is so big that with every thrust, she hits every fucking spot possible and it's making you insane. you feel so lightheaded and nothing but senseless begging and chants of her name spilled out of your mouth.

“fuck, baby, you're so wet.” she groaned, slapping your cunt in between every word, each slap making you squeal louder and louder, eyes rolling back. “c-close... i'm soso close, rina!” you announced so fucking loud, karina had to cover your mouth with her palm. “cum with me.” she only replied, putting more force into her thrust, each thrust feeling slower yet so much deeper as your walls clenched around her length. karina used her free hand to rub your clit, heightening your pleasure. forcing yourself to open your eyes, you looked up at her through your lust filled eyes as you brought her hand to your neck, choking yourself with it as you get closer to your high. karina took the initiative to do so, making you smile, biting your lower lip and holy fuck. in karina's eyes, you looked the hottest lile that. god, that stupid vampire fang of yours.

feeling a familiar knot forming, karina drops and pushes her mounds against yours, letting your nipples rub against each other. “cum inside—inside! please, i want to feel you, rina! breed me. fucking breed me, please, please—!” through your moans, you managed to beg for her. at this point, karina could only think so little, she wanted you. she wanted you to have her and nobody else. “i'm cumming, baby—fuck. cum with me...! fuck, i'm cumming!” with your face buried onthe crook of her neck, you wrapped your legs around her waist, not wanting her to pull away, chanting her name along with strings of profanities in between your moans. soon enough, the both of you are cumming—karina shooting her load inside of you at the same time you clenched your walls around her length, making her groan out loud. with your teeth dug on her neck, leaving a mark, karina threw her head back, moaning your name in pleasure, whilst your body squirms and trembles under her.

heavy breathing and whispered profanities were shared as you both laid next to each other. "you're mine, understand? you're all mine." karina muttered as she kissed your lips, hands once again roaming your body. "one more."

hehe, this took a while. i got so sick during the holidays, so i couldn't really post it. anyways, happy holidays, my kitties!

[lillian-gallows]

Kinktober Day 9: Double Penetration with Kurt Wagner.

Pairing: Kurt Wagner X Fem!Reader. Work Count: 1926 Warnings: Double penetration, Tail used for anal sex, P in V sex, Open communication, Teasing, Praise kink (Literally one "Good Girl"), Probably incorrect use of German, Pet names (Maus - Mouse, Leibe - Love), Teeth kink (?) mentioned but not acted on, Reader is specified to be a mutant with a more benign power, References to Kurts Catholicism and horny stereotypes therein, They're in love your honor.

Kinktober 2024 Master(sub)list.

Minors DNI

This is 100% not your fault.

Kurt is completely to blame for this one and that’s the story you’re sticking to.

He was the one that did the thing that unlocked this, apparently very, deep seated kink you didn’t know was there…Okay, maybe you might have had an inkling, but you were totally content to never acknowledge it!

What was the thing? You might ask. Kurt, little devil that he is, used his tail during sex. And in the way you might be thinking.

While balls deep the blue imp decided it would be a good idea to give your, erm, rear entrance some attention. It was just a little brush with the tip of his spade, but it was enough to awaken this new part of yourself.

So, here you are, sat on your bed facing your fuzzball with flaming cheeks, and him smirking like he already knows where this is going.

“I want you to use your tail again.” You admitted after a couple non-starts.

“And you’re embarrassed about this?” He asked like he thought it was silly, which you supposed it was a little silly, you two had been through some pretty crazy stuff together since you met.

Using his tail during sex was hardly the strangest thing you two have talked about.

“I mean…It just seemed a little, I don’t know, taboo? I mean, Kurt. You’re Catholic. I’m kinda lucky you have sex with me to begin with.” You explained trying, and failing, to keep your incredulity off your face.

His smirk widened and he snorted before descending into giggles, giving you a peek at his little fangs. That was another conversation for another day.

“Ah, mien leibe. You really are so silly sometimes.” He said through his laughter. “Did you forget about the biggest Catholic stereotype?” Your brows furrowed in confusion, so he continued. “Why do you think we have so many children?”

Then it hit you. “Oh…Oh! Oh my God.” You covered your face with your hands to hide your embarrassment.

This time his chuckle was fond rather than at your expense. “You know you can tell me anything, Maus. I love you, and I’m more than happy to do whatever pervy bedroom things you want.” He teased as he pulled your hands from your face to kiss the tip of your nose.

“Pervy things I want? You’re the one who started this...” You pouted with a lifted brow.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He feigned.

“Sure, you don’t.” You rolled your eyes.

You both fell silent for a moment after that. You, waiting for him to say something. And he, for you to ask for what you actually want to say.

“So…Did you have like…Anything you need to do later or…” You started slowly, looking off to the side and waiting for him to have mercy on you.

“Why wait till later?” He asked before he was suddenly on you, literally. He had you pressed into the mattress. “When right now is just as good.” He finished before claiming your lips in a kiss that quickly became all tongues and teeth. You really did like those teeth…

“Now is good…” You managed between kisses, hands moving up to thread into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer.

One of his hands, which had previously been pressed into the fabric next to your head, moved down to caress your body, cupping your breast through your shirt for a moment before moving down to slip under the material to roll your nipple between his fingers.

“No bra?” He asked as if he couldn’t tell this whole time.

“Shut up.” You groaned before yanking his lips back to yours, his whole body following the movement and pressing his front to yours, allowing you to feel how hard he already was.

“And I’m the perv.” You teased, proud to finally fire back at him.

“Be careful Maus, I’m the one that has what you want so bad…” He taunted wickedly and your mouth snapped shut.

Blue jerk.

“Good girl.” He said and watched with a pleased grin as you melted under him.

“No fair…” You grumbled but didn’t get to say anything else as he leaned back down, nipping at your lower lip before slipping his wicked tongue into your mouth, exploring like he owned it.

Clothes were removed in a blur, all too focused on each other and where your hands were going next.

Somewhere along the way you ended up on top of him. Your wet pussy running along the length of his dick, his tip flushed so dark it was proper purple as it peaked out from under you with each rock of your hips, brushing against your clit every time.

Your fingers tugged at his hair as you devoured his lips with desperate whimpers mixing with his own moans, his own hands gripped your hips to guide your movements, though you didn’t need guidance. You had no intention of stopping.

“Leibe…” He whispered between kisses to catch your attention. You let out a hum in question and parted from him just enough for him to speak. “I need the lube from the nightstand.” He panted against your lips.

You didn’t bother trying not to seem eager as you reached out to open the drawer and grab the little bottle and he was too focused to tease.

Rather than start with his fingers, seeing as they were definitely too thick for this particular situation, at least to start with, he wiggled for a moment to free his tail from under himself.

The little blue spade came to hover between you two as he poured a generous glob of the clear fluid on the center. “Care to assist me, Maus?” He asked with smoldering eyes watching yours.

Your fingers reached out to spread it, your other hand wrapping delicately around the base of the spade for stability, and to tease him a little because you know his tail is sensitive. Not really an erogenous zone, but still, lots of nerves.

And the little hitch in Kurts breath was a dead giveaway of this as you made sure the lube was spread over the whole end of the appendage, then applying another dollop.

Once both of you were satisfied you released him from your hold, about to climb off him so he could be on top, but his hold on your hips stopped you. “I want you to have control of how fast this goes.” He explained when you looked at him confused.

Your chest filled with butterflies as you looked down at him, leaning in to give him a much more innocent kiss. “I love you…” You whispered against his kiss swollen lips.

“I love you too…” He whispered right back before slipping his tail from between you to hover near your bottom, arched in the air in this position. “I’m going to start slow, and when you’re ready for more let me know.” He said softly.

At your nod the slick tip of his tail pressed to your hole, spreading the excess lube over your pucker.

It was cold, but felt good, the skin of his tail was as fuzzy and soft as the rest of him, but there was a muscular density that was shockingly reminiscent of his hard cock.

One the lube was adequately spread the very tip pressed in just a little, just enough to almost massage the muscles till they relaxed, allowing the spade to press in just a little more.

Bit by bit this went, till you reached the widest part, and he froze as you let out a quiet sound, not quite a groan, but not just a moan. “Leibe?” He asked, breaths a little ragged from the sensations this was giving him.

“I’m okay…” You assured. “Just give me a sec…” He let out a relieved breath, worried for a moment that he might have hurt you.

Soon your body relaxed again and you pressed back a bit, thinking there was a little more before you would past the flair but letting out a shocked, high and pleasured, moan when you felt the rest pop in.

“Fuck…!” You gasped, your face falling down to bury in his neck, body shaking as it tried to process the pleasure of it. “Kurt…” His name was a drawn-out sound that had his dick kicking up against your belly.

That’s when you had a thought, well, it was also a thought you’d had before, but you hadn’t initially intended to act on it tonight too, but your sex addled brain didn’t care to wait to bring it up.

“Can I have your cock too?” You asked, voice a little whiny as you managed to look up at him, utterly shameless, eyes half-lidded and shiny. You were sure your pupils were blown to hell.

“Verdammt…” He groaned as his head fell back to the mattress, wondering what he ever did to deserve the woman currently begging him to fuck both her holes at the same time. “Yes.” He said, because how was he to say no when you looked so sweet and needy?

You moved to reach between your bodies, but he stopped you. “Let me.” He said, replacing your hand with his own to take himself in hand, holding the head to your poor neglected pussy, dripping wet and sensitive.

Kurt was by no means a small man, but now he felt massive with the stretch of both holes. Every nerve felt like it was lighting up as you sank down on his cock, the tighter space made it so the whole length was pressed right up against your g-spot.

And it was everything you could do to remain on this plain of existence.

It was times like this that made you glad your mutation was rather benign, lest you knock the power out or something with how little control you felt like you had over your person.

You remained still as your body got used to being filled so completely, but the moment you were. Well, it wasn’t your world getting rocked.

As you rocked your hip, riding the blue teleporter under you, you watched as his golden eyes rolled closed and his grip on your hips tightened, aiding in each roll and press as you chased both your pleasure.

The room was filled with a mix of wet noises from between your bodies, and your mixed moans, too lost to think too hard about how loud you were probably being.

You couldn’t have missed the tightening in your belly if you tried, and it didn’t build slowly.

No, it coiled fast and tight as you practically bounced on the bed with each thrust, Kurts hips meeting you halfway now as he felt you quivering around him, tail moving in tandem with his hips to never leave you empty, when his cock was pulling out his tail was pushing in.

And when the knot snapped you came with a cry and he followed less than a second behind with a groan that you were pretty sure was meant to be your name, but it trailed off halfway through into incoherent babbling, much like you.

As the waves of pleasure crashed over you, your rhythm faltered into slower rolls as you collapse on top of your boyfriend.

“Holy shit…” You murmured as the twitching in your body ebbed away and you both fell into a pleasant silence in the afterglow, his hands holding you close.

“Are we going to talk about the teeth next?”

“…Shut up…”

[shamelessfaceless]

Navigation | Marvel Masterlist | Series Masterlist

1. The one and only Spider-Woman.

Pairings: WandaNat x F!Spidey!Polish!Reader, OC x Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)

Summary: When your girlfriend cheated on you, you decided to finally accept Tony Stark's offer.

Warnings: Cheating with man, sad R, Homophobia

Wc: 1.2k

A/n: I will put my whole heart in this series😭 Next parts are gonna be longer.

You promised yourself you would always smile  while wearing your mask. For this reason your mask was showing the bottom of your face. It was your own project and it had a special place in your heart. You wanted to show people that nitatter what you are doing, and who you fight with, you will always smile, just be happy that you can protect innocent people. Another reason why you projected your mask like that, was the fact that you have fangs. It's not like you use them often, but they can be really helpful. One little bite, and can paralysis villains for a while. S.H.I.E.L.D knew about your existence, and wanted you to join avengers. They even send to you the one and only Tony Stark with Nick Fury. You decided to wait. It was your last month of school, and you had a girlfriend you didn’t want to leave alone.

You graduated with not so bad grades, and you passed all your exams with almost the best scores in your class. You hoped your girlfriend would be with you, but she texted you at the last minute that she needed to take care of her sick mother. You believed her. How could you not? She was almost the most important person in your life. So in the evening you decided to visit her, her mother knew you really well, and was happy her daughter had someone like you. Well, she didn’t know you were a couple, she was a typical homophobic christian, just like most people in your country. 

Only thing in her room you could see was how deep she was in kissing a guy. She didn’t even notice you opened the door to her room. Looking in her cold eyes made your stomach flip. You don't even know how... no, when this happened. You don't know when she met him, when he started being the reason she's smiling everyday, when she stopped caring about you. Only thing you can look at are her sky blue eyes you loved looking at. You were always finding your safe space in her, now the only thing you see in her eyes is how much she is disgusted in you. Her words were something you were expecting. You weren't enough. He is a man, of course she would want to be with him, how could she love a girl? You were just stupid thinking he was just her friend.You tried so much to not end up like before. But everything is always the same. You are trying your best, but they are always choosing someone else, someone who isn't so complicated, someone who is.. pure. The most important, they always will choose someone who will fuck with them after a week of dating. They don't understand why you care about romantic things, when you could just let them fuck you. They are animals chasing their own pleasure, don't giving fuck about true love. 

It was the first time when you put on your mask and did wear your bright smile. 

There was no reason for you to stay. Your friend moved out a long time ago, and for you, your online friends were enough. Your parents were dead. At least for you. Just like you were dead for them. They didn’t want a Lesbian daughter, and you hated them for all the traumas they gave you. You half lived on the street. Most of the time you were spending in school or saving your country. You showed up in your home only if you needed to take a shower or books for school. 

“What are you thinking about kiddo?” Tony asked, putting hand on your back.

“You know, just how my girlfriend cheated on me few hours ago, and now Im part of fucking Avengers” You didn’t even looked at him. You only look at changing numbers signaling that you were higher every second. 

After running away from your girlfriend's house, you called Tony. Only thing  you wanted was to leave as far away and as fast as you could. Break ups were always hard for you. You just wanted to feel loved, feel important for someone. Looking at the sunset on top of one of the buildings was your way to say goodbye to the country you truly love. You promised yourself, you will start a new and better life. No thinking about the past. You need to let it go, and life looking at the future. You knew it would be hard, but you also knew you needed to do this. There's too many open wounds, just because you couldn’t let go thinking about the past every night. 

Pretending to smile while meeting everyone was the hardest part. Pretending to be happy while in the back of your mind the only thing you could think of was your exs, and how you couldn’t be enough for them. Tony left you just when you walked out of the elevator. Steve introduced himself and his friend Bucky. You gave them a polite smile and mumbled your name. You just wanted to go to your room and sleep the rest of the day. Next people that introduced themselves were Clint, Bruce and Sam. Last person was Natasha Romanoff. You learned from her that her wife Wanda is on the mission with Thor. 

“I hear slavic accent.”

“Oh, yeah…  I'm Polish.”

“Tony was one hundred percent sure you're from Russia.” You hate when people mistake you for Russian. It's not even like your languages sound super alike. 

“Chuj.” You said to yourself. “Uhm, nevermind.”You looked at the floor when she looked at you. Natasha just laughed it off and you smiled. 

(Chuj - Dick)

“I'm guessing you don’t know where your room is?” When your eyes met her forest green ones, you felt like you couldn’t look away, but you needed to. You didn't want her to take you for a freak. 

“Yeah… Stark just left me here, and didn’t show me anything.” You rolled your eyes.

“Come with me. Tony decides that you will take Wanda's old room. We have lived together for the past few years, so her room stood empty. It's next to ours.” She said pointing at one of the doors. “So if you need something you can always knock.”

“So… It was nice to meet the famous black widow.” You opened the door to your room. 

“It was nice to meet another spider.” After you closed the door you looked around the room. You didn’t take many things with you, so there wasn’t a lot to unpack. Just some clothes and books. Just a few minutes and everything was in their places. You looked out the window and a few seconds later at mask in your hands. 

After a while you were jumping between buildings. It's late at night, so one would rather see you. When you get tired of jumping, running and half flying, you sit at the top of a skyscraper.

“So It will be my new life. The spider-woman saving the world.” You laughed to yourself. “It's almost unbelievable."

TAGLIST:

@marvelwomen-simp @andersonsprincess @leenasayeed @sapphic-simp4015 @taliiiaasteria

[tomriddleslove]

The devil can be beautiful.

✩Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader (Part 1)

SLOWBURN SERIES

Summary: The one where you have it all planned. There’s not a single thing you haven’t sorted, you’re practically untouchable in how perfect you are. He wants to destroy you, and he always gets what he wants. Alternatively: A bet is placed on whether Mattheo can ruin you. It’s not as easy as he thinks.

A/N: Imo a bit more accurate Mattheo here? He’s fucking toxic and they’re all horrible. This is a series!

Nietzche famously rejected connotations of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’. They were nought but social constructs - ways to enforce power and authority under arbitrary values. Rather, he believed ‘good’ was relative, as was ‘bad’. If an action or doing promoted life, or power, then it was ‘good’. If an action promoted weakness, and conformity, then it was ‘bad’.

You weren’t religious, but you prayed to the heavens above that Nietzche was right because fuck.

Wrong has never felt so right.

‘Pl- plea-” You gasp, a breathless moan escaping your lips as you tilt your head back. His lips attach to the tender skin of your neck, nipping and biting at the delicate skin with no regard. He was ravenous, and you tasted like ambrosia, something too sweet for him. You had never felt so alive, feeling as though you were numb yet also like every nerve end was on fire.

Ravenous lips meet pure, untouched flesh. Iconoclastic in nature, the idea of corrupting such a sweet thing was enough to send the boy into a haze.

What was the saying? A wolf in sheep's clothing? Someone who seemed so unlikely, so deceptive. You couldn’t even fall back on that as an excuse. No, Mattheo Riddle was the devil himself, presenting himself to you with red horns and a fucking pitchfork in his hand and you stupidly let him sink his fangs into you.

He was beyond tainting you, no.

Mattheo Riddle was destroying you, and you could only let him.

- • -

Proper and prim.

If you had asked anyone to describe you in two words, you were sure those were the ones they would choose.

Proper and prim.

You were near perfect. Hell, if perfection existed you would be the image of it. From your neatly ironed robe to your polished shoes. Not a single thing was out of place. You embodied routine, and order.

Hair brushed back into a simple plait. School uniform modest, your tie neatly tucked underneath your grey school jumper. You had not produced a single piece of work that scored below 100%, from apparition to flying, you simply never did bad.

“Merlin, it must be depressing,” Theodore murmurs as he watches you walk through the Slytherin common room, up to the girls' dorms.

“Who?” Blaise quips as Pansy rolls her eyes, the distaste evident in her voice as she speaks.

“Who else but her? Miss Prissy Goody-Two shoes.” Pansy drawls, redirecting the group's attention to your retreating form.

Theodore reaches into his pocket, rolling a cigarette between two fingers as he speaks.“Did you know she scored 100% on all her OWLS?”

“Of fuking course she did. All she does is bury her nose in books. No wonder she’s always alone.” Draco mocks and Lorenzo snorts.

“She’s a bit of a weirdo” Lorenzo comments and Theodore barges in, a sleazy grin on his face as he raises a brow.

“You know what they say about the quiet ones right? Always the freakiest.”

Pansy dissolves into laughter, clutching her stomach as she speaks through giggles.

“Her? She’s an absolute prude! You should have seen her when she had to work with Pucey during potions. She couldn't even look in his direction. It's pathetic if you ask me.” She taunts.

Mattheo stares off into the fireplace, legs spread lazily as he reclines back onto the sofa. He had no interest in this conversation, really. Not for the reasons one would think, though. It’s not that he secretly cared for you or something, no it was far from that. He agreed that you were rather weird, too perfect and normal to be likeable. Rather he didn't have the energy to engage in such trivial matters.

“You should go ask her out on a date or something Theo. Don’t you like the nerdy girls?” Lorenzo teases as Theodore scoffs, propping his feet up on the table in front of him.

“Absolutely not, She’ll probably perform some kind of fucking blood curse on me.” He mutters as Draco raises a brow.

“How about this? If you manage to fuck her, I’ll give you 100 Galleons.” He proposes. Lorenzo nearly spits out his water as Pansy shakes her head.

Mattheo snaps out of his daze, looking up at Draco with mild curiosity.

“100 Galleons? Are you fucking insane?” Lorenzo blurts, looking at the platinum-haired boy in disbelief.

“Oh come on. It's a guaranteed win for Draco. It’s near impossible for anyone to do that.” Pansy adds.

“I’ll do it.”

It's his first contribution to the conversation and they all turn to look at him. Theodore raises a brow, an unlit cigarette dangling from his lips as Pansy leans forward.

“Oh? And what makes you think you can?” She taunts.

“Look at her. Teacher’s pet, an absolute loner. Always reading. It’s so predictable. She probably has wet dreams about some bad boy coming to sweep her off her feet. It’s almost too easy.” He says, cracking his neck with a small groan as he sits up.

He could really do with the money. 100 Galleons could buy him at least 3 weeks in the shabby little inn he frequented over the school holidays.

Draco eyed him curiously, before extending his slim pale hand out.

“Agreed. 100 galleons if you manage to fuck her within a month.” Draco repeats, and Mattheo takes the offer.

His calloused palms meet Draco’s, and he shakes on it with a resolute nod, before leaning back in his chair.

1 month? What a joke. He only needed 2 weeks.

-•-

It had been two days after that conversation and Mattheo had been observing you closely, waiting for the right opportunity to crop up. In the meantime, he dissects everything about you. Theodore was right, you were so undeniably boring and monotonous Mattheo had to pause and wonder if you were a sadist of sorts, finding pleasure in such mind-numbing perfection.

It was the same damned thing every single day. You would turn up for breakfast at 8:00, and fix yourself a plate of porridge topped with a handful of blueberries. You’d eat as you read the newspaper, and finish by 8:15. You’d rise, put your bowl away, and head to your first class. You ate lunch during the first half, the same sandwich and apple every day. After lessons, you’d go up to the library. You’d take the furthest seat on the second floor, between the muggle studies and world history books. You would revise for 3 hours, close your books, and head back up to your dorm. You would then re-emerge no longer than 20 minutes later (still dressed in your school uniform) and head down to dinner. You always ate whatever was offered, had a single mug of peppermint tea, and then headed back up to your dorm before it was even 10.

Every. Single. Day.

Mattheo could not comprehend how on earth someone could live like that. Surely you had to be some sort of psychopath, right? There was no way you could find peace and comfort in such a routine. Sure, Mattheo certainly did not feel content, but he’s as sure as the sky is blue that he’d go insane if he lived like you.

Maybe you had some sort of secret? Perhaps you escaped the castle grounds at night to smoke or do some hardcore drugs. Maybe you were some sort of recluse who believed they were some sort of divine being. Your meticulously structured routine, your unwavering discipline—it all seemed too calculated, too perfect. There had to be something lurking beneath the surface, something that explained your seemingly robotic adherence to the same monotonous pattern day after day.

The countless possibilities run through Mattheos mind as he rests his chin on his hand, zoned out as he sits at the back of the astronomy class. Professor Sinastra drones on about Lunar phases and their implications on a wizard’s abilities. Mattheo gazes off at you, who (as per usual) sits right at the front of the class. Your posture is impeccably straight, and you jot down every word Sinastra speaks as though she’s teaching the class how to become a millionaire instantly.

“... And for that reason, I would like two volunteers to come work alongside myself on a month-long project locating rogue planets in the atmosphere. Not only will this be an exciting and unique opportunity, it’ll also put you in incredibly good standing for your upcoming NEWT exams, which may I remind you are in only a few months. The study will largely commence in the evenings, however, there will be a few instances where you will be required to complete monitoring throughout the whole day. You will be excused from lessons on those days, rest assured.” She says.

Mattheo straightens up in his chair as he sees your hand shoot up almost immediately. In any other instance, your enthusiasm would be infuriating at the very least, earning you a snarky remark. But now? Well, it was clear the universe was giving him a sign.

Taking advantage of everyone else's hesitancy, Mattheo raises his hand. A few murmurs ripple through the class, and Professor Sinastra cannot hide her surprise as she nods at Mattheo.

“I must say, I am glad to see you volunteering Mr Riddle.” She says, and Mattheo nods.

He can’t make it too obvious, though. He usually wouldn't be caught dead volunteering for such a thing.

“Getting to skip classes and being permitted to roam around at night? No brainer.” He says, not so subtly to Blaise. Granted, Blaise knows Mattheo’s true intentions, but the statement seems to satisfy the rest of their class, who turn back to their work whilst muttering about how it was a rather good offer.

Mattheo looks over to you, only to find you turned around in your seat, observing him for a second. Your eyes squint, an almost imperceptible change, before you quickly avert your gaze and turn back around.

“You might actually have this one.” Blaise murmurs, leaning closer to Mattheo. He can’t help but smile, an almost arrogant smirk, as he nods.

Looking at the way you diligently return to your work, Mattheo’s indifference suddenly morphs into determination.

This was too easy.

-•-

Mattheo saunters up the stairs to the astronomy tower, the faint moonlight just barely illuminating the path in front of him. As he pushes open the door to the tower, he sees you perched by the telescope. You're still in your school uniform, looking pristine as you sit on the floor, scribbling notes down in your book. You look up at the intrusion, clearing your throat when you see Mattheo. In the dim moonlight, Mattheo can see your face turn slightly red as you swiftly avert your gaze down to the floor.

“Riddle.” You greet, quietly. He hums in acknowledgement, setting his bag down to the side as he slumps against the wall, leaning back.

“Professor um- Professor Sinastra has asked us to just observe the sky and try to make predictions for when we can sight a rogue planet. I’m mapping the movement of the planets but she said you should try to calculate angles of visibility.” You murmur, voice quiet and hesitant.

Mattheo raises an eyebrow, feigning disinterest as he looks over at you. "Angles of visibility, huh?" he muses, pushing himself off the wall and saunters over to where you're seated. "Sounds like a job for someone with a keen eye for detail."

You glance up at him, your expression guarded as you nod in agreement. "Yes, exactly. It's crucial to accurately calculate the angles to ensure our observations are precise."

He laughs, but it's not genuine. No, rather it's almost mocking.

“What makes you think I’m doing any of that, hmm? This is just an excuse for me to skip classes. How this is actually going to work, is that you’re going to do all the work, and let me slap my name on the parts I was meant to do, yeah?” he says, his tone oozing with faux sincerity.

You look up at him, a glimpse of surprise flashing in your eyes.

There we go. Wasn’t so hard to get a reaction out of you, wasn’t it? Mattheo thinks to himself, raising a brow. This would be simple enough. You’d fight back, and after a bit, he’d reluctantly agree. He’d begin to feign actual interest and before you knew it he’d be walking away with 100 galleons added to his name.

But instead of fighting, you nod and look back down at your book.

“Ok.” You murmur.

Mattheo's smirk falters for just a moment as he processes your response. He hadn't expected you to simply agree, to comply without so much as a hint of resistance. It throws him off balance, leaving him momentarily speechless.

“What? You’re not going to disagree? Or go snake on me to Professor Sinastra?” His voice comes out more incredulous than he intended, a mixture of surprise and confusion evident in his tone.

You glance up at him, your expression unreadable. "It's not like I have much of a choice, do I?" you reply calmly, your voice devoid of any trace of emotion.

Mattheo's mind races, trying to make sense of your reaction. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. You were supposed to push back, to challenge him, to give him something to work with. But instead, you're just... accepting it.

A flicker of annoyance flares within him, quickly followed by a surge of frustration. This wasn't what he had planned, wasn't how it was supposed to play out. He wanted a challenge, not this... this acquiescence.

He eyes you with a small frown, before turning on his heel and walking out. He’s both frustrated and confused, pondering your words as he makes his way back to the Slytherin common room. Were you really that pathetic? Did you actually have no backbone?

He walks back into the relatively empty common room, spotting the whole group in their usual spot. He goes over to them, tossing his bag to the side as he plops down onto the sofa with a sigh. Pansy eyes him with amusement as she speaks.

“So how was your first evening with our perfect student? Did you woo her under the stars?” Pansy teases as Mattheo fishes around in his pocket for a cigarette.

“Serenade her with a poem?”Theodore joins in, a grin tugging at his lips.

“Merlin, I knew she was a stick-up but to be that much of a push-over? She’s so mind-numbingly fucking boring it's actually insane.” Mattheo starts, lighting the cigarette as he takes a deep drag.

“I mean, I told her that she had to do all the work and give me the credit, and she just said ok! No fighting back, not even a look of annoyance. She just looked down and said Ok,” He exclaims, still rather baffled as he smokes his cigarette.

Lorenzo raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a sly smirk. "Well, isn't that just precious," he taunts, the hint of mockery in his tone unmistakable. "Our little goody-two-shoes just rolling over and playing dead at the first sign of trouble."

Mattheo scowls, taking another drag from his cigarette as he mulls over their words. It's frustrating, infuriating even, to think that you would just acquiesce without so much as a fight. He had been expecting resistance but instead, he's met with nothing but compliance, and it grates on his nerves in a way he can't quite explain.

"Well, whatever," Mattheo mutters, exhaling a cloud of smoke as he leans back against the sofa.

Just as he goes to speak, his eyes are drawn to the entrance of the common room. The group falls silent at your arrival. You walk through the common room, not even glancing in their direction as you clutch your school bag tightly, heading back up to your dorm.

‘Like you have your tail between your legs’ Mattheo thinks, observing your retreating form.

“Maybe it turned her on?” Theodore proposes. Draco groans, setting down his mug as he rolls his eyes.

“That's disgusting. I do not need to be thinking about that,” He complains.

“You’re the weirdo who proposed the bet anyway!” Theodore quips back, and they soon fall into a silly argument.

It’s all background noise for Mattheo, who can't seem to stop thinking about you. There was no chance you were simply so easily swayed, so complacent. No, there had to be more to it.

Mattheo was a Slytherin through and through. Cunning, resourceful, and ambitious. And if he wanted something, he would always get it. Mattheo would win this bet, and if not for the 100 galleons, it would be to unravel and destroy you, for he saw in your innocence a challenge — a spotless canvas begging for the brushstrokes of corruption, a pure soul ripe for the taint of himself. Even the most virtuous are not spared, and in his eyes, your fall would be his ultimate triumph.

@schaebickel @multifandom-worlds @mildlyuninformative @lillywildly @gillyweeds @anti-hero03

[yandere-sins]

Monstober - Day 7: Sphinx

Sphinx are my personal horror. Like, they actually manage to scare me. So... I tried to make them more likable for me, although it makes me add more fiction to an already existing concept :')

Prompt: Sphinx | Riddles // Sand // Giant Warnings: Yandere, Fem!Reader (Gets called "girl" only once but I should probably leave a note here), Violence (Sharp Teeth, Claws, Mention of Death, Mention of being buried alive, Being mauled to death (not the main character)), Monster and Monster Characteristics, Long Post

"Please... Please, you got to help me!"

Your sobs grew louder as you fell to your knees before the giant creature, your hands latching onto her paw, and for some reason, she didn't use it to crush you right then and there. Perhaps it was the desperation in your voice, or maybe the guardian of the ancient resting place of so many of your ancestors was weak to tears. Still, she didn't even growl despite you bursting into her sanctuary unannounced and, frankly, rudely.

Following the tales and warnings you had received since childhood, you should have acted properly and with dignity. But instead, you were inconsolable as you sobbed into her fur. Something about the image of the great sphinx and you, a mere human at her feet, had comical traits of one of the performances you made at the theater. However, what you once loved so much was now the furthest thing on your mind.

"Child of Man, do not sully my fur so," the sphinx finally spoke, and you rose from her paw, wiping the tears and snot from your face.

"I'm so sorry, Great Protector. But I just don't know what to do."

The sphinx shook her paw as if to get rid of the tears you had wetted it with before she sat down on her rear legs. Even though you knew she was alive, you couldn't help but feel like she was a golden monument. The statue of a god you were praying to—truly, as she was your last hope.

"Pray tell your worries then. I've been visited so little by your kind in the last years, it shall dissolve my boredom."

"They want to marry me off!" you explained bluntly, and her slitted pupils expanded upon hearing this before she closed her eyes altogether. Her whole body collapsed as she roared bellowing laughter at your misery. More tears—this time from frustration and disappointment—flooded your eyes. You couldn't even defend yourself with the sound of her laughter carrying far and wide through the cliffs all around the burial site, echoing and resounding, slapping you with her mockery.

"That's it?" she asked dismissively, making it clear your concerns weren't hers. "You come to me with a matter so trifling? Why should I care, Human, who you are to marry?"

"Because he's old!" you screamed against her roars, and though not disappearing completely, her laughter grew more subtle, turning into chuckles.

"So? Is that not desirable? Do you not wish to part ways with a man you don't want?"

It was nearly impossible to hold back your raging feelings of despair and anger and temper yourself. You should have expected her not to be indulgent to your whims, but you still had hoped as she was a protector. Leaning her head down to you, she twisted it from side to side, staring at you expectantly as she waited for your answer. Her lips parting to reveal her fangs should have made you quickly gather your bearings and leave, but you simply couldn't.

Death by being eaten, perhaps, was more merciful than what this marriage would be.

"They'll bury me with him."

Shoulders slumping, you looked down, staring at the sand softly clouding on the ground as the sphinx moved to stand before you properly again. This time, you didn't face her. Instead, you listened to the ruffling of her fur, wishing you could bury yourself in it instead. Of course, the great sphinx was no pet, but she resembled the cat you once called your own with her brown fur. It made you want to seek comfort.

"He won't make it very long anymore, and his last wish is to be married. My family couldn't refuse receiving most of his estate in exchange for my hand in marriage, but now they won't even reconsider, knowing the family plans to bury me with him—alive!"

The sphinx hummed, sitting back down again, which made more sand clouds rise, and you looked up, straight into her eyes watching you.

"It is the way of all things except mine. You would not wish for a life as long as I have. Why defy your fate?"

"Because it's too early!" you protested weakly, letting out a sigh.

"I studied to perform at the theater, to sing and dance. I worked my way up in society, and there was no one who aided me! They are all my accomplishments! And I barely had a chance to showcase what I can do and what I have studied so hard for! All I did cannot lead to me pitifully ending in the tomb of a man I didn't ask to marry!"

You sighed, shaking your head. Clasping your hands together in the motion of a prayer, you held them above your head, bowing to her as you made your final attempt at pleading with her. It almost seemed lost, but you couldn't sink deeper than you already had.

"They are coming for me soon. They always feared I'd run away, so they'll not stop their pursuit until they find me here, where I am asking, for once in my life, for help. Your help. Please, Great Sphinx, find it in you to aid me!"

"I see," she finally relented, and your pulse quickened while you tried not to get your hopes up. Her understanding meant little when she decided not to take action. "Then what do I gain?"

Your breath escaped you as you looked up at her, trying to wager her thoughts. What was there you could give? A monster's help never came cheap, but it was much easier to figure out what they wanted by letting them tell you, their instincts never betraying them, unlike how humans acted on greed and desire.

"What do you want?"

Her tail flicked in the air, smashing and rattling the ground she sat on. Briefly, she averted her eyes, rolling them unnaturally slowly in their sockets as she thought, but soon enough, her lips split into the uncanny grin that suited her well as she came to her conclusion.

"You'll solve my riddle. If you can't, you die here and now and feed me." Her grin widened, sharp teeth glistening between them as if she enjoyed the thought.

"If you solve it, I will ask the same riddle to your pursuers once they come here. If they answer it correctly, I will eat them, and you are free to go, but if not, you will stay here for as long as I wish, amusing me with your song and dance while I get to feed on those that come to get you. Is that a deal you want to make, Child of Man?"

"Yes," you replied, not thinking twice. In reality, you were nervous, your heart thumping out of your chest, ribs aching. But you had come prepared, and you knew that it was possible for the sphinx to give you a riddle, her favorite pastime. Getting to your feet, you braced yourself, noticing how the fur of the creature ruffled in excitement or perhaps the anticipation of a good meal. Regardless, you told yourself to not be discouraged by her confidence.

"Then tell me, what means more to you than it does to me?"

You knew there was no time limit on the question. And yet, you felt the pressure of the sphinx awaiting your answer with hunger in her stomach and desire in her eyes. Reckoning that she wasn't as malicious as the childhood stories made her out to be, didn't help you in the face of your demise. She may have enjoyed having her riddle solved, but to her, it didn't really matter as she came out as the winner. Only for you was it a matter of life and death, and...

"My life..." you whispered out loud, the thought escaping you before you could hold yourself back. Even with your hand clasping over your mouth could you not take back the involuntary answer you gave the sphinx, and she cackled maniacally at your mistake.

"Correct," she purred, settling down on all fours and bumping her enormous head against your body, just like a cat would. Curling your hands into fists, you resisted the urge to pet her, the sound of her purring rumbling through the ground.

"You may stand beside me, for they are coming. Their armor is such a bothering ringing in my ears, yet it will save them from nothing."

An enormous boulder fell off your shoulders, even bringing forth a small smile as you quickly moved forward, positioning yourself next to her paw again. Strangely enough, it was the safest place for you at that moment, and you held onto her fur as the rattling of armor and shouting reached you that she had long heard.

"It's not usually so lively here," the sphinx sighed, her tail flicking and whirling up more sand.

"But it is, always, someone's grave."

"So, what will it be?" the sphinx asked, impatiently waiting for the answer from the four men who had been debating over the riddle for way too long. They felt the pressure, too, you were sure.

Although they made their intentions clear that they were here for you, speaking reverently and dutifully to the sphinx, she told them they'd have to solve the riddle or die trying to tear you from her grasp. However, you didn't forget your own deal with her, and between checking if she was preoccupied, you had been gesturing to the men, trying to help them and yourself.

It felt terrible since you were trying to save yourself by sacrificing them, but it had to be done. At least, you wouldn't have to go back to your village either way, but staying with the sphinx and perhaps one day becoming her meal wasn't the consequence you wanted to have either.

So you pointed at yourself since they wanted you. Then you did the universal sign of chopping your head off to signal death. Death and life, the man should have understood it since they wanted you alive and well to marry the old man. And finally, you pointed towards them. Their life, that's all they had to say.

The sphinx had no reason to honor her promises, but at the same time, she didn't have a reason to save you either. Yet, here she was, doing it in a way that suited her, even if it was hard to believe that despite her monstrous appearance, giant size, and appetite for humans, she could be so benevolent.

"Have you decided yet?" she asked, changing up her question in hopes of making one of the men nervous enough to give an answer.

Surprisingly, one of them reacted, the youngest of the soldiers nervously stepping forward, wringing his hands and glancing back over his shoulder a few times to get confirmation.

"The... The girl," he answered, and you felt your body stiffen as he gave you a short smile, not knowing the verdict yet. However, the sphinx bristled in excitement, cackling like she had with your answer before she lowered her head, grinning at the young man.

"Wrong," she revealed, fangs snapping forward, and you yelped in horror and shock as you heard the crunching of bones and metal, one bite enough to break through the man's body. The sphinx got up on her four feet, and with an ease that shouldn't have been impossible for a body this big, she pounced on the others that screamed and readied their weapons, just not in time to fight her off.

Maybe you screamed as the men were ripped apart one by one, a fun hunt for the sphinx, but not so much for you who had to witness it.

Maybe you simply cowered in silence until their gurgles and crunching bones stopped resounding in the atrium of the ancient burial site.

"They are wrong, you know?" you heard the sphinx call out to you, and you slowly lifted your head, not wanting to see the carnage on the ground. But her face, smothered in blood and looking so much more horrific than it had before, wasn't easy to stomach either. The wind blew through the pillars surrounding the hall, dragging out the sand stained with the blood of innocent soldiers who had been sent to "rescue" you and the severity of the situation began to sink in.

You only felt the tears brimming at your eyelids, but you didn't spill them, not when you were almost worse off than these guys. The sphinx laid down next to you, separating you from the entrance and exit to her lair with her gigantic body. Letting you go was not her plan, and you had agreed to this arrangement without thinking twice.

"What about?" you asked dully, watching her very human face lick her blood-stained paws with the naturalness of any feline creature. You'd have to accept that about her if you were stuck here now. But the thought had yet to fully register.

"You mean a lot to me, even if they didn't think so. But at least I get to keep you now, and you'll be my little songbird."

Tears broke loose as you sacked to the floor, her tail flopping against the sand as you began sobbing miserably. And she let you, as she had from the very beginning. Was this an outcome she had anticipated? One she allowed to happen as the opportunity arose? You would have been dead had you not done anything, buried with the corpse of a man you didn't even know. But now that you were in this situation, you realized your death had always been predetermined.

You merely prolonged the fateful day that you'd be buried here.

[dragongirlpoet]

Dark Signs

Part II

<Read Part I here>

Alucard x female reader

Synopsis: You asked Alucard for a favour. Now you have to be careful what you wished for. (3.5k words) "To be born a dhampir is to be born a monster" - Vampire Hunter D

TW: Dark fantasy, horror & gore elements, blood, SMUT (Alucard is feral in this one) Explicit 🔞

Here's hoping you'll enjoy this too! Sorry it took longer than expected, I was unwell and didn't want to put out a story I wasn't proud of. Thank you for reading!

Also to @skychaser777 hope you can sleep after this 😉

The hollow stone walls echoed my shaky breaths, caving them in, the thumping of my heart violent in my ears. My skin was pricked with goosebumps, foreboding dire dwellings. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Absurd question, considering everything was inherently far from right. 

There had only been one instance where I felt unsafe with Adrian. 

Located in the underbelly of Wallachia was a forgotten catacomb, a labyrinth where the dead and undead alike convened. I had been extracting bile from slaughtered night creatures, told to render powerful salves when mixed with mint, myrrh and…other herbs. 

Body sticky with sweat and hands grimy from reaching into revolting guts, I was almost to my fifth vial when a guttural growl stopped me dead in my tracks. 

From the marrows of a tunnel, a numbing cold, laced with strangled gnawing, reverberated through the passageways.

Every fibre of my being told me to run, alas I had all but the impudence of a child. Unsheathing my iron dagger, ensorcelled to wound even the most vile, I treaded warily towards my impending doom.  

The sight that awaited me was sickening. Crouched over bodies upon bodies of night creatures was a pallid, mangled man? His face was buried in their carcasses, marring at their flesh, lapping at their blood. 

Before I could take another breath, the man turned, face smeared with ravaged viscera and foul, curdled blood. He had hair like the purest wisps of wheat and eyes like dark, desecrated graves. 

I choked back a gasp.

“You foolish, foolish girl. You are not prepared for the evil that lurks here, feeds here..” his bellow was deafening, diabolical. Blood spilled from his fangs, splaying his torso tainted with innards and rotten flesh.

“Wh..who are…you?” I paced backwards as he stalked towards me.

“You don’t know who I am? Most fascinating…” he offered a smile so sinister, as if he had stumbled upon the most naive of fools he was soon to devour.

“I am the sun…rain…the darkness. I am sin made flesh and I am whom you should most fear. I am Alucard, son of Vlad Dracula Tepes.”

A loud “smash” rattled through the room as I retreated into our wooden dresser, knocking over a prized hourglass Alucard so often used to practise his script. The pair of glowering molten eyes trailed me — never blinking, burning caverns into my soul. 

I shifted my gaze downwards to avoid stepping into glass, but that was regrettably the least of my worries. Lifting my stare, those eyes were gone — quick as spectres passing through dimensions. 

Our chamber fell into a boundless black, and my human sight could not adjust acutely enough to the darkness. I flailed my arms about willing to grasp onto anything that could give me some bearing. Anxiety crept through me like poison ivy ensnaring a forsaken home. 

“Adrian? Stop this please! This isn’t funny.” The volatile rhythm of my heart suddenly became too loud, too unbearable. 

No amount of breaths could repress my violent trembling. A faint flicker from the corner caught my eye — Alucard’s heirloom sword. If his magical estoc was there…he is still in the room with me. 

The hairs on my arms shot up, little by little.

Out of nowhere, forceful, ice cold hands prised around my throat, yanking me out of my state of terror. From behind, Alucard, voice grave like a thousand infernal souls, growled into my ear, 

“Do you understand the gravity of what you’re asking?”

Whether it was fear or the vice-like grip around my neck, I couldn’t speak.

“Answer me.” 

He clamped tighter.

”Ye…yesss,” I wasn’t telling a lie. 

“Then let’s finish what we started, shall we?”

One minute I was in Alucard’s death grip, the next I was shoved, hard, into the stone wall, my face chafing against the abrasive mortar. I winced at the pain.

“You’re hurting me, Adrian!” 

Behind, he tightened his grip on my wrists, binding them into the small of my back. 

“Am I? Ohh…but you like danger, don’t you?...His other hand reached down to unfasten his pants, his erect cock sliding out… “You are drawn to the darkness, just as I am.” 

He trailed the words up and down my neck, pausing ever so subtly to savour the scent of blood in my veins. 

A small bead of sweat started trickling down my face…no, no, it was blood — from my collision with the wall.

Alucard went eerily still again. I felt a shift in his countenance, like a malevolent cloud obliterating sunshine. 

He was hungry.

With one knee, he forced my legs apart and hauled my nightdress up, my backside fully exposed. I could feel the tip of his length against my rear — throbbing, impatient. He snaked his hands all over my naked body, grabbing at my breasts, digging into my thighs. 

The scent of my blood set his every carnal need aflame. 

Adrian had always been prudent — he would excuse himself at the slightest scent of my exposed blood, isolating himself in the castle dungeons for hours, as if he deserved it. Deserved to be punished for his beastly urges, deserved to be condemned for being born a monster. 

Every blood-month I had would send him away for days — “I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve seen what I become when I feed… I’ll just be hunting, it’d be just a few days, and your cycle would end when I’m back,” he would say with a smile. A sad smile.

And I was utterly tired and heartbroken that my Adrian, so kind and full of love, would admonish himself, rip his spirit to shreds, for a fate that had been unfairly handed to him. I was going to end this, tonight.

Alucard nuzzled his face into my hair, taking in all my smells, heaving. His body was unyielding against mine — elegant marble against bewitching velvet. I could hear his vampiric heartbeat ringing in his ears, drowning out all sense of reason. He was an animal in heat. 

“You know I cannot control myself around you. And you know what your blood does to me… Do you know how long I haven’t fed?” 

His writhing cock was brandishing my cunt, starving for my hole.

“Do you know I think about what it’s like to have your blood in my veins? How much I want it, need it, desire it. 

How much I want my blood in you. And you ask this of me, tonight, when I’m sitting at the precipice of hunger and lust…”

There was a sharp intake of breath. 

“Hmmm you don’t know what’s coming for you. Once I do this there’s no turning back. 

Do you know how long I’ve been holding out for you? To be better for you. And now you ask this of me…”

At that he yanked at my hair, forcing my head to fall back. The red trace on my cheeks bowed complete to his mercy. 

Staring defiantly into his eyes, I said, “Do it, Adrian. I want you to.” 

Danger, danger.

A devious smile tugged at his lips. Alucard skimmed my neck with his mouth, bruising it with reckless kisses and parlous nips. He moved precariously to suck at the aquamarine veins running down my breasts, licking slow circles about my nipples. He was a wolf dallying with his food. 

A true vampire, hedonistic even in the slightest of pursuits, moving inevitably to the blood trail. He had waited so long for this. 

Alucard pushed his lips delicately into my face, afraid of spilling even the smallest of drops. My blood was a sacred river, a bath of worship he would praise forever. Shaking, he ravened the scarlet off my face, sucking at the open cut, willing for more. 

He was a mixture of muffled moans and enthralled ecstacy.

It was exhaultant. I adored being able to give Adrian what he most craved. 

Drinking in more than necessary, the whites of his eyes were no longer — entire sockets now overtaken with crepuscular crypts darker than the blood moon that hung outside.

Alucard’s cock twitched beneath me, length growing harder and bigger by the second. Grunting, he pumped his sex and slid it against my pussy. I was light-headed with anticipation, but he had merely fondled my folds, prodding at my entrance, testing to see how wet I was.

Perhaps he had been right. Perhaps a dissolute part of me yearned for the darkness, but what I’d wanted most of all was to know that I had years, centuries — immortality, to be with Adrian. 

Head over my shoulder with eyes like lacquered obsidians, he interlaced his fingers with mine, bringing them down to press at my clit. Flagging off from my most sensitive spot, he traced them up my body, slowly, torturously. 

“I wonder…” fingers caressing my abdomen… “how far up…” I gasped as he adjusted them higher… “my cock will go when I’m deep inside you…” Alas settling on a spot above my navel.

A sacred river spawned between my legs. 

Incapable of restraint any longer, I reached back to stroke his shaft, thumb stimulating his tip until his pre-load creamed my fingers. I lathered his fluids, relishing in the feel of his hallowed flesh tethered to my hands. 

“Fuuuck.” Alucard bristled against my touch, face buried in my neck. Below, he was thrusting at my entrance, not yet entering, readying me for his carnal devotion. 

”Adrian please, I need you. I want you inside…”  

His last thread of resolve snapped. He rammed his boner into me from behind, stretching me, engulfing me. My tender walls were a haven to his brutal thrusts, welcoming him in. Cock barely to his hilt, he spread my bottocks apart, plunging his engorged member in. 

“Ahh…ahh…” I whimpered, hands braced on the wall. 

“How are you still so tight…” he hissed, enraged he couldn’t yet feel all of me.

My fingers weaved into his hair, tugging as I leaned further back into him. This feral urge, I craved it. It was scarce enough to satiate the searing lust in me, so I ground impiously against his length like the unholy girl he wanted me to be. 

Tonight, he was to have his way. He was the nefarious overlord and I was but a malleable zealot. My hips were firmly held down by his hands — he wanted to control my rhythm. I was, afterall, his submissive little prey. 

Alucard forced his cum-stained fingers into my mouth, swirling them about the insides of my cheeks, wresting in and out of my plush lips. I licked at them greedily, suckling on his taste. He was so deft — hands and length penetrating me in a lyrical sync, sating me above and below.

I gagged when he stuck his fingers further down, my throat wedging tight. Tears rimmed my eyes but I continued hollowing my cheeks, head bobbing. “Such a good girl…” praising as he brushed hair off my face. I was to appear immaculate while being fucked indecent.

Hypnotised by his bulge assaulting my hole, I bit sinfully on his index, tearing his skin. He pulled out from my mouth, eyes transfixed on the blot of blood. 

“You’re being a naughty little lamb tonight…” His smile was insidious, like a serpent suffocating its meal.

My vampire smothered his blood over my parted lips. My tongue grazed over it, wiping it clean like I was the one writhing in blood lust. What I did had Alucard under a powerful spell. He plummeted his smug into me, our kisses heedless, crashing into each other in depraved lust. 

We sucked and bit them swollen, both of us unrestrained and shameless of our monstrous love. Under, he continued hammering his heat into me, hand pushing my cunt back to swallow more of him.

Alucard was never one to trifle with a perfect opportunity. Hands at his favourite spot, he rubbed his digits forcefully at all the places his cock didn’t already fill. My knees buckled at once from overstimulation. 

“Stay.” He landed a firm smack onto my soaking sex… “Still.”

“Or I won’t let you cum.” An order.

He bent me over, my backside raised to allow him easy entry. I compelled my wobbly legs to stand, muscles quivering at my bones.

“Good. Hands on the wall.” 

Like his obedient little lamb, I hoisted my arms on the cold stone, squeezing taut around my feral wolf.

I was begging, moaning his name, my being in complete disarray.

Content with how tight I was clenching around his shaft, Alucard drove his erection mercilessly into me, pounding so hard I was lifted off the ground. 

I cried out in pleasure and pain. “Adrian! Adrian please…”

“You like it when I’m rough with you, baby? You want me to turn you, and fucking you senseless comes with it,” he spat in between thrusts, dragging hair away from my ears to ascertain I could hear him loud and clear. 

I was so deliciously filled my lewdness spilled out onto my legs. Paths of sweet nectar trickled down my trembling thighs, glazing his girth with my wicked desire. 

I was so close.

Smelling my arousal and imminent climax, Alucard slammed faster into me, his own pace losing cadence. 

We were so close. 

He had everything timed perfectly. Just as he had countless times before — night creatures and wild animals — all unsuspecting pawns to his blood thirst. He was adept at hiding his deplorable little secret, but I knew better. 

Fangs fully exposed, he grazed them masterfully over my neck, humming at my veins and arteries. Quite like a skilled chef discerning food, he was choosing which would taste most exquisite. My scarlet vessels were pulsing in tempo with my heartbeat — palpitating, quivering, waiting.

“Are you frightened? I can feel your terror in my bones…” villainy laced his snarl like a wolf finally rid of sheep’s clothing. 

I had to inhale gulps of air to articulate my words, “No….” But what I said or what I thought mattered no longer. Gone was Adrian — human, moral, benign. A bestial, debased monster, instead, all consumed him. 

Soulless eyes searched me once more, as if to forewarn me about my perilous decision, as if the human in him was straining to break free of his chains to stop this atrocity.

There was no turning back now.

I offered my neck to him, reckless, bloodstreams on full display. At last, with Alucard’s throbbing cock still stuffed full inside, I felt the firestorm in my core and the crushing torrent soon overcame me. 

My release tonight felt different — cathartic. I was once again the delicate driftwood being dragged underwater — careless, aimless, going where the current took me. My limbs fell limp at my sides, my spirit devoid of vigour. And I knew why. 

Alucard’s fangs were buried in my neck, drinking my blood as if a divine offering. When did he bite me? I felt no pain, only a rapture so heavenly I ached for more. 

And so drink he did. Rivers of blood coated his lips, crimson tributaries surging down his throat. He sucked and lapped at my vital spark, clawing at my body so arduously as if I was the most cherished jewel of immeasurable value. 

Like a vampire deprived of debauchery, he drank me in like sweet sin. He had no beginning and no end. And rightfully so. I was profoundly proud of my Adrian. At long last, he no longer had to be ashamed of who he was. He was liberated. He was free. 

My racing heart was now a supine hum. I lay naked — pliant and frozen in his arms. The sleepy swell of the ocean lulled me into the black nothingness. I was rising and falling, so in harmony with the current.

Above, hazy sunbeams fractioned the waves like sparkling diamond necklaces. Beneath, the sombre abyss tugged at my essence, diffusing all manner of light. The ominous depth, though a macabre embrace, was one so full of promise. It was beckoning to me, calling my name — stay, stay, stay…

—

I awoke to a pall of infinite blackness. 

I had been dreaming. There were shadows — silhouettes, of people I couldn’t quite make out. They were whispering, a sonnet of hurried voices, as if going somewhere, but nowhere at the same time. Then there was a lambent flame — the colour of pale amber, always in the distance but never near. Always tailing, always watching…

Where was I? 

I could see nothing, hear nothing. I shifted slightly, and my shoulders were met by cool textile — silk? As more of my senses reconciled, I felt the mattress below me, a satiny divan not reminiscent of my bed. Muted was the air, hollow was the roof, and

…algid was my skin. 

I was in a coffin.  

Panic coiled through the ridges of my ribs, puncturing my heart like lethal thorns. I clawed and pounded at the wood…was I buried alive?

Alas, like the caves of hell being vaquished by divine light, the casket slid open, and I clambered onto a sprawling granite floor. I was heaving, frantic to take in air, clamouring at my chest as if ghostly hands were crushing my heart, splintering my valves. 

Where was Adrian?

A succession of torches adorned the upper vaults, the mellow ebb of light suddenly becoming glaring to my eyes, as if I had been staring directly at the sun. I could make out the phosphorescent ripples and saffron hues that wreathed the flames. 

The air smelled vaguely of mildew and crumbling concrete, while the scampering of rodents in between masonry thundered in my ears. I could hear them squeaking, the sounds of their bones compressing while they squeezed through cracks and crevices. 

I could hear their heartbeats — tiny surges of blood in their capillaries. 

Such fragile little things, I wonder what they’d feel when they’re crushed by the force of my teeth. If they’d feel pain, if any at all, as I drain them dry…

I was so, so hungry. 

My awareness had heightened ten-fold, the anarchy of it all confounding whatever human that was left in me. The sensation of everything all at once was too much to bear and I covered my ears to drown out the distress. 

Futile efforts indeed. 

“Adrian? Adrian…” My voice hoarse from wheezing.

Was this what he had to endure? Being so akin with the presence of entirety, enough to render one insane. Was this why he had been so loath to turn me?

I hauled myself off the ground, bidding my legs to what looked to be a door. Scarce a blink had passed than I was face to face with a metal threshold — intricate lineations etched faintly onto the frame. 

“Willing blood of the Raven Maiden,” — Enochian, words of ancient bygone, but Adrian and I had been avid philologists.

I didn’t concern myself with whether the translation had in fact referred to my blood, but I sank my fangs — a lurid extension — into my wrist and smeared them over the threshold. 

The magicked portal transported me to a bed chamber, a former bed chamber, now resembling the crux of a dense forest.

Creepers cleaved through stone, while poison vines slivered across furniture. Rich moss clung to the bed frame, eating away at the tulle canopy, embedding itself into rotted linen.

That chaise…it was ours. 

Horror flooded my senses as I glanced furtively around. 

Our armoire, our settee, our desk. 

Strewn across the floor, some shredded by tree roots dissecting the wooden panelling, lay stacks of disintegrating parchment like remnants of forgotten lore.

Vampiric speed overtaking, my eyes scanned the moth-eaten pages over. 

“Come back to me.”

“Come back to me.”

“Come back to me.”

I choked on my tears. 

“To be born a dhampir is to be born a monster.”

They fell like glass, shattering on the ink, eroding the paper more.

How long had I been asleep for?

“No, no, no…”  I wept into the emptiness, anguish imprisoning my lungs, blocking off air. In spite of being undead, I had a heart, and it bled — it bled crimson, pain and grief. It bled with all the words I wished I could take back. 

It bled with all the ache that I might never see Adrian again. 

I scoured the castle. Every tower, every room, every dungeon, each a shell of its former mirth. The scenes ran parallel  — overgrown foliage, wrecked furnishings, pillars atrophied by decay. Our home had been eaten away by the curse of time. There was no sign of life, no essence of Adrian. 

With a threshing hole in my heart, I raced past the lattice of abandon toward the main doors. As the iron portcullis lifted, I recoiled at the hell that awaited me. 

There, in the blistering winter, impaled upon rows and rows of stakes, dangled festering corpses of night creatures…and humans. 

What have I done?

Part I

[cottonlemonade]

Introducing You To His Friends

word count: 897 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: Ushijima x chubby!Reader (feat. Shiratorizawa™)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

request: watching Nightmare Before Christmas with some caramel popcorn dressed as a traffic cone with Ushijima || fluffy, going to a Halloween Party with boyfriend Ushijima

Everyone in Shiratorizawa was buzzing about the upcoming Halloween party and the volleyball team was no exception. They decided to really go big this year and that meant bringing their partners. Or well, Ushijima would bring his girlfriend since everyone else was single as a Pringle - besides Semi, but he didn’t know which girl to bring so he decided to go stag. None of them had ever met you, since you went to a different school, and only knew of your existence because of the many rumors (mostly started by Tendou) that floated around the locker room.

The party took place in the empty gym, devoid of the usual bleachers and volleyball nets, with the basketball hoops now serving as part of the decoration with plastic skeletons stuffed into them. Since Shiratorizawa was a prestigious boarding school, costumes were exchanged for fancy dress, however, the gym more than made up for the lack of creativity in clothing.

Your hand felt clammy as Ushijima led you through the baffled crowd, but your boyfriend didn’t let go for even a moment. Not only did the socially inept captain bring a date but you were definitely not what anyone would have expected. Much shorter than him, sure, but the pudgy tummy was definitely a surprise. So were the generous thighs that never stopped touching as you rounded the swimming club and headed straight for the buffet tables where the volleyball team was fighting over the last korokke. As your heart threatened to leap out of your chest, you gripped Ushijima‘s hand a little tighter, and with his returning squeeze, he let his steadiness wash over you. You were as cool as a cucumber by the time you came to a halt next to a young guy with black hair who must have gotten into a fight with his hairdresser recently.

“Team, I have arrived. And as promised, I have brought my girlfriend.“

The boy next to you choked on his soda and a tall, gangly redhead who could only be Tendou from your boyfriend‘s descriptions leaned in, his hand stretched out. He was the only one wearing a costume - an elaborate Victorian vampire with styled back hair, the plastic fangs giving him a slight lisp, “So we finally meet, heh? Call me Satori. Ushiwaka‘s best friend in the entire world.“

You shook the boy‘s hand and smiled shyly at the rest of the group.

“I‘m y/n. It‘s very nice to finally meet all of you. Wakatoshi told me a lot about you.“

“I have?“

He hadn‘t, Tendou was the only exception, but you thought it would be the polite thing to say. You exchanged a puzzled look with him and then were mercifully saved by the black-haired boy who, after handing you a bottle of ramune, asked, “So, how did you two meet?“

You recounted how you had been out walking your dog and having smelled the empty power bar wrapper in the pocket of his sweats, the ever-hungry Labrador had pulled his leash out of your hand to run after Ushijima calmly jogging through the park. To apologize you offered him a cup of coffee, he accepted and that was that.

Tendou brought both hands to his face and wiggled from side to side like seaweed in a wave to express his delight.

“N’aww, aren’t you two just the cutest?”, he said sweetly.

A short silence joined the friend group, then moved on when Semi, with much hesitation between each word, asked, “So, how did… you two uhm… how did you agree… to become boyfriend and girlfriend?”

No one judged the setter harder than Tendou. He said, with a comically raised brow suggesting something completely obvious, “I think you just have to check a box somewhere like on the General Terms and Conditions.”

They held each other’s eyes, one challenging, one pretending not to be embarrassed.

Meanwhile, you furrowed your brow in confusion. (Just maybe you and Ushijima got along so well because you both didn’t exactly excel at reading social situations well.) You tried to find a way to reply but when you stumbled over the words a little, your boyfriend gently placed a hand on your back to stop you. He knew his team members and so was confident enough in his assessment of the situation to suggest, “I think, they’re making (dramatic pause) a joke.”

But the vampire wasn’t about to let this go. If there was a chance to bully Semi, it had to be done. “Them’s the rules” according to him.

And so, absolutely nailing his impression of the setter, Tendou asked, “So, what’s your favorite position?”

Semi (despite his better judgment) and Reon hid their snorts behind their snack plates, Goshiki turned as white as the sheet ghost dangling on the wall above the buffet and Shirabu clicked his tongue in annoyance at the middle blocker’s usual shenanigans.

“My… uhm…”, you stammered, your cheeks hot with blush.

“I’d also like to know.”, Ushijima said, turning to you with serious curiosity but after a moment added, “Is it setter? Outside hitter? Libero?”

Tendou clawed at Semi’s shoulder to suppress the manic laughter rising in his chest but took him and Reon down with him.

The three boys ducked away to calm down, while you used the opportunity to pull Ushijima to the dance floor as he still listed further possibilities of team positions.

a/n: request for @act-nat-ural

Thank you so much for the request, I always adore writing for Ushijima! I hope you enjoyed it! 🌟

And thank you to @haikyu-mp4 for brainstorming this at 4.30 in the morning 🫶🏻

[littlest-w01f]

Monster

Tamlin x Reader

TAMLIN MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Reader sees her mate Tamlin lose himself to magic for the first time during her first Calanmai

Cw: Dark!Tamlin, vines as tentacles, corruption kink, breeding kink, erotic asphyxiation, impact play, monster fucking if you squint (don't read if you don't like it), Smut 18+MDNI

You stood outside the cave Tamlin was in, you'd been fashionably late, wearing a soft green dress that reached your upper thighs, parts of it translucent like a silk slip, and a sweetheart neckline that accentuated your breasts, it might have been the most skimpy thing you'd ever worn, a little gift for your mate, the High Lord, who was in a cave this very moment, the festivities of Calanmai about to begin.

You were surrounded by a bunch of Fae women, all looking expectantly at the cave your mate had gone in, your mate won't be who came out, The Hunter, Tamlin had called himself, would. Dark and strong magic in control of his mind and body.

The constant pull he had on your mating bond made you feel better about everything he had said, he won't be your Tamlin, he'd asked if there was anything you were uncomfortable with for him to do, it didn't feel like he would remember.

Your heart started to beat faster when you heard a growl from the cave he'd gone in, come out, he winnowed right in front of you, pure lust in his eyes, laurel leaves keeping his hair out of his painfully handsome face, he was bare-chested, painted in dark blue woads.

Things were quiet except for the beating of the drums that beat loudly, Tamlin gently caressed your cheeks with his knuckles, his claws threatening to break free before he gripped your neck, making you gasp for air and winnow you back to the cave he was in.

You groaned as your ass hit the hard ground, wincing slightly, Tamlin stalked close to you from where he was standing, nothing in him except pure lust and the need for his mate. A Hunter indeed, trapping a lovely maiden inside a cave, he was at the side of the entrance, and there was nowhere for you to run, except for deeper in the cave, not that you wanted to.

"Oh, I'm going to ruin you fully now," Tamlin groaned, walking to you like a predator stalking it's prey.

"Rough or gentle?" Tamlin growled mindlessly, a voice that didn't even seem his as he looked down your body, smirking at your dress, or rather barely a dress, "Aww, is this thin piece of fabric all for me?"

You nodded softly, "Y-yes." You bit your lips as he knelt between your legs, waiting for your answer to his former question, you were sure you could hear the sounds of leaves and vines from deeper in the cave, "Anything you want, my Lord."

You felt him shudder at the title from your lips as he pried your legs open, giving you a smile that showed his blunt canines elongating into fangs, "Rough then, for my good girl."

His words were filled with an unmistakable tone of dominance, as if he was taking control of every aspect of the situation. His hands gripped your thighs firmly. He leaned down, his breath hot on your skin. You could feel the weight of his body against yours as he whispered in your ear, "I'll fuck you so hard that you won't be able to walk straight afterward."

Before you could even reply, he bent forward, slamming his lips against yours in an aggressive kiss, his hands gripping your clothes to rip them off your body, turning your silk and lace to shreds off your body, you gasped as the cold air of the cave hit your bare body, feeling Tamlin press against you fully, leaving the paint his body had been marked him to rub against yours, your own eyes hazy from the spell of the Rite, moulding into his, submitting to him, ready for anything he had to give you.

"You look so beautiful like this," He whispered, his teeth grazing your neck, "All submissive and willing."

You whimper lightly, leaning into his lips, "Tam-" He gave you a look and you corrected, "My Lord... Please."

"Please what, princess?" He taunted her, his lips trailing down your neck to your shoulders, the Hunter breathing you in, crazed by your scent, you could feel your arousal between your legs, spread apart for Tamlin to settle in between, your cunt pulsing for even an ounce of friction.

"Give me something," You panted, sensing his hard cock, still in his pants, pressing against your inner thigh, "Please, anything."

"Oh, like this?" He asked curiously, his fingers ghosting over your clit making your hip buckle into his hand, he smiled watching you grip his hands to bring his hand closer.

He tutted, taking both your hands in his to pin them over your head with one, "Behave now, you said anything I want. And I want to make you cry." A wave of relief washed over you as he had a little mercy on you and rubbed your clit harder.

Your relief was short-lived as he pulled his hand away making you kick your feet in frustration, which earned a chuckle out of him. As you felt his warm breath against your neck, you couldn't help but tremble in anticipation. With a gentle tug, he pulled your head back by your hair, exposing your neck to his sharp teeth. A chill ran through your veins as you heard him growl, "You belong to me now, little mate. So, I can do whatever I want with you."

"Keep your hands up," He growls, bringing his hands down to spread your thighs, his teeth still on your sensitive neck as you whimper. Tamlin grunted in pleasure, his teeth sinking into your soft flesh. He bit down hard, causing a small trickle of blood to seep out from the wound. As he did so, he used his free hands to grab your breasts, twisting and pinching roughly, groping you fully. You let out a muffled cry, biting your lips, feeling the pain and the heat from his bite.

He shushed you gently, giving soothing licks to the bite mark, licking away the blood, "That's it... See, now I've claimed you fully, my precious mate." He quickly moved to bite the other side of your neck to give a symmetrical bit mark

"My Lord..." You breath, "My Tam..."

He moved to your face, a couple tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you looked up at him, his kissed over your eye lids, making your tears fall as he moved to his pants, ripping them off his body, finally releasing his painfully hard cock, it stood tall and proud, the tip glistening with precum. He grabbed your leg, pulling it upwards, exposing your wet cunt to him even more.

"Look at you liking this," He mused as you tried thrust your core anywhere, for any sort of friction, you make the mistake of bringing your hand down from where he had told you to hold them, in a blink of an eye there are vines surrounding you, growing from his magic, under his control, he face is expressionless, "I told you to keep your hand up, Princess."

You gasp, struggling as the vines he grew gripped painfully tight around your arms, pulling them up, some sneaked past your hips, holding your legs open for him.

"You don't deserve to be stretch for me," He decides with a sadistic grin, with a wave of his hands the vines flip you on your stomach and tuck your knees under, a slight pain in your knees from being slammed down, spiking your every growing arousal. "I'll take you tight." He smirked, leaning over you.

You wait in anticipation for him, to feel the nudge of him against your dripping slit but what you felt was a hand, the hand of a beast, Tamlin's beast, claws sharp and long, soft golden fur growing on his Fae arms, somewhere between completely Fae and beast, he held you by your neck in a tight grip, making it difficult for you to breath.

You jerk with a cry of pain from a resounding slap, his hand on your ass, with a force that would cause a mark, another followed on the opposite side. You were breathless and aroused, waiting for his next move when you, at last, left his tip nudge at your wet slit, grinding against him, or trying to, after being bound, vines that stalked to between your legs, a few thinner ones wrapping around your clit to tug at the neglected nub causing you to shake.

Tamlin's claws dug into your thigh, holding you tightly in place. He leaned forward, his face inches away from yours. The cave seemed to spin around you, as if they were both caught in a whirlwind of passion and lust. His voice was low and rough, like the rumble of the beast he hadn't fully let out. "Now, I'm going to fuck you until you beg me to stop."

You barely muffled the scream that erupted from your throat as he plunged into your cunt fully, a vine wrapping itself around your neck and squeezing tight to quiet you down, not giving you any time to adjust as he began a rough pace. "That's it..." He growled, purely animalistic, "Scream my name."

And you did, you screamed his name with every thrust, every whine and moan that left your lips, his name followed, your High Lord, your mate, legs shaking with the urge to cum at the pleasure of his cock's punishing pace and at the vines tugging at your clit.

"I'm gonna make you a mother," Tamlin groaned, thrusting in as far as he could, "Give you all my heirs. That's what you want, don't you?" He felt you through the bond as you nodded fast, a gentle kiss on the back of your shoulder blades seemed foreign compared to everything else as he whispered, "Cum for me, Princess."

You came hard, clenching hard around Tamlin's cock, milking his cock when he hit his high right after you, fucking his thick knot in, making yours eyes bulge out at the stretch that was pure beast. He emptied his seed in you, dropping lightly as your legs twitched, his knot keeping him in and not letting him pull out.

You both whimpered, the spell of the Rite washing away as Tamlin wrapped a gentle arm around your waist, stroking your now filled abdomen.

The vines and claws retracted as he turned you on your side, still buried inside you, "The knot is good, hm?" He kissed your hair softly. "Keeps my cum in you."

"Let go for me, dear," He gently rubbed the welts and red marks the vines and his hands had given you, lulling you to relax with a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "Rest up, there is more for tonight."

{General Taglist: @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}

[lila-lou]

✨Cuffed - Part 1/2✨

Summary: Dean reluctantly tags along to a Halloween party, but things take an unexpected turn when he meets you. What starts as playful teasing quickly turns into undeniable chemistry, leaving Dean caught off guard in the best way.

-Halloween-Special-

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Language, TEASING

Word Count: 4492

A/N: English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 💛

Dean groaned, leaning back in his seat and glaring at Sam, who was pacing around the motel room. “For the last time, Sammy, this is a stupid idea. A Halloween party? Really? That’s your idea of a good time?”.

Sam stopped and sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Come on, Dean, it’s not just about the party. It’s been ages since I’ve done anything remotely normal. Besides, I’m nervous about seeing Lina again”.

Dean shot him a look, his brow furrowed. “Lina? The chick from the coffee shop a few weeks ago?”.

Sam nodded. “Yeah. She invited me to this thing, and I don’t wanna go alone. It’s been forever since I’ve been to something like this, and I don’t wanna screw it up”.

Dean rolled his eyes. “So let me get this straight. You want me to tag along to some stupid party because you’re too nervous to talk to some girl? Dude, you’ve faced down demons and vampires, and you’re freaking out over this?”.

Sam gave him a pleading look. “It’s different, Dean. You know it is. She’s… she’s different”.

Dean groaned again, tossing his hands in the air. “Fine, but I’m not dressing up. I’ll go, I’ll stand there, and I’ll drink their bad punch or whatever. But don’t expect me to pretend like I’m enjoying it”.

Sam smirked, a bit of relief washing over his face. “Deal. Thanks, man. I owe you one”.

Dean shook his head, standing up and grabbing his jacket from the back of the chair. “Yeah, you owe me more than one for this”, he muttered, slipping the jacket on.

“It won’t be that bad, Dean. Just try to relax. Lina’s cool, and I’m sure her friends are too”.

Dean shot him a skeptical glance. “Yeah, sure, because that’s what I need. Small talk with a bunch of strangers while you’re off making eyes at Lina. Sounds like a hell of a night”.

“Look, I just… I don’t know, man. It’s been a while since I’ve tried to date. What if I mess this up?”.

Dean’s expression softened, just a little. He sighed, then clapped Sam on the shoulder. “You’re not gonna mess it up. Just be yourself. She invited you for a reason, right? Just don’t overthink it”.

Sam nodded, but Dean could see the nerves were still there. He was rarely this wound up unless it was something serious.

“Come on, let’s hit the road before you start hyperventilating”, Dean said, making his way to the door.

A week later, Halloween finally arrived, and despite all of Sam’s attempts to get Dean into the spirit of things, Dean refused to even consider wearing a costume. As Sam finished getting ready, slipping into his vampire getup, Dean just leaned against the Impala, arms crossed, shaking his head in disbelief.

When Sam walked out of the motel room, fangs in place and a cape trailing behind him, Dean immediately burst out laughing. "You’ve gotta be kidding me, Sam. A vampire? Really? After everything we’ve been through? You want me to take you seriously when you look like that?".

Sam rolled his eyes and adjusted the cape. “Yeah, laugh it up, Dean. It’s Halloween. I’m trying to blend in, unlike some people”.

Dean smirked as he opened the car door. “I don’t need a costume to look good. Besides, you realize the irony, right? A vampire hunter dressing as a vampire. You’re asking for bad luck here”.

Sam slid into the passenger seat, ignoring his brother’s teasing. “It’s just a costume. Relax. And I didn’t exactly have time to come up with anything else, considering how you kept shooting down all my ideas”.

Dean laughed as he started the engine. “Dude, you wanted me to dress up as a werewolf! We hunt werewolves! What were you thinking?”.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Better than not dressing up at all. You’re gonna be the only person there not in costume”.

Dean grinned as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta be the cool one".

Sam shook his head, but he couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto his face. The familiar banter between them helped calm his nerves, even if Dean’s sarcasm was relentless. The truth was, Sam was still nervous about seeing Lina again. The party wasn’t just a Halloween get-together; it felt like a real step forward with her, and he didn’t want to mess it up.

As they drove, Dean couldn’t resist making more jokes. “So, when you see Lina tonight, are you gonna sparkle in the moonlight, or should I call you Count Samula?”.

Sam groaned. “Seriously, Dean, let it go”.

But Dean just chuckled, keeping his eyes on the road. “I’m just saying, you’re giving me a lot of material here. Don’t be surprised if someone at the party mistakes you for the real deal”.

Sam sighed, leaning back in his seat, trying to tune out Dean’s relentless teasing. He knew Dean was only giving him a hard time to ease his anxiety, but that didn’t make it any less annoying.

After what felt like an endless barrage of vampire jokes, they finally pulled up to the house where the party was being held. It was decked out with Halloween decorations—fake cobwebs, glowing jack-o'-lanterns, and a skeleton hanging from the porch. The muffled sound of music and laughter spilled out into the yard as they approached the front door.

Dean parked the Impala and glanced over at Sam, who was fidgeting with his costume again. “Alright, you ready for this, Count?”.

Sam took a deep breath and nodded. “Yeah. I’m ready”.

Dean gave him a small, genuine smile, one that told Sam his brother had his back, no matter how much he made fun of him. “Go get ‘em, tiger—or, uh, bat. Whatever you are”.

Sam rolled his eyes once more, but couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out. "Thanks, man".

They stepped out of the car and made their way toward the party, Sam adjusting his fangs one last time while Dean, in his usual jacket and jeans, stuffed his hands in his pockets. He might not have been dressed up, but he was still scanning the place with a hunter’s eye, watching everything, even in what was supposed to be a laid-back situation.

As they reached the door, Sam hesitated for a second before knocking. Dean caught the look on his face and nudged him. “Relax, Sam. You’ve got this. Just go in, have a good time, and stop overthinking everything”.

Before Sam could reply, the door swung open, revealing Lina, dressed as a classic movie star in a sleek, black dress and gloves. Her eyes lit up when she saw Sam. “Hey, you made it!”, she exclaimed, smiling wide.

Sam’s nervousness melted away as he smiled back at her, stepping inside. Dean followed, keeping his distance, though he made sure to give Sam a small, approving nod. It wasn’t exactly his scene, but for his brother? He could handle a few hours of lame costumes and bad music.

Lina led Sam deeper into the party, and as they mingled with her friends, Dean hung back by the snack table, grabbing a beer and observing the crowd. It was all normal, but Dean couldn’t shake the feeling that something about the night might turn out to be more than just a harmless Halloween party.

But for now, he watched Sam, relieved to see his brother smiling, laughing, and, for once, not worrying about monsters or demons.

That was enough for Dean—for now.

Dean took a sip of his beer, scanning the room lazily when something—or rather someone—caught his eye.

In the kitchen, he spotted you, probably the hottest little police officer he’d ever seen, struggling to reach a stack of red cups on the top shelf. Your short, dark dress was riding up dangerously as you stretched on your tiptoes, clearly trying to avoid asking anyone for help.

Dean raised an eyebrow, smirking to himself. Well, you were also the tiniest police officer he’d ever seen. He watched for a moment longer as you muttered something under your breath—probably cursing quietly at your predicament. Amused and unable to resist, he set his beer down and pushed away from the wall, making his way toward you.

Leaning casually against the doorframe, Dean tilted his head slightly and quirked a smile. “Need a hand there, Officer Short Stuff?”.

You froze mid-reach, startled by the sudden voice behind you. Turning your head, you narrowed your eyes at him, though there was a hint of a smirk playing at your lips. “Officer Short Stuff? Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”.

Dean shrugged, completely unfazed, as he stepped into the kitchen. “Well, I call it like I see it”. He moved past you, effortlessly grabbing the stack of cups from the shelf and handing them to you with a grin. “You’re welcome”.

You took the cups, giving him a slightly suspicious look, though you couldn’t help but chuckle. “Thanks, I guess”.

Dean leaned against the counter, folding his arms over his chest as he looked you up and down, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “So, let me guess. You’re here to keep all of us in line? Make sure none of these crazies get too out of hand?”.

You gave him a playful smile, setting the cups down on the counter and turning to face him. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just here to arrest anyone who makes bad jokes about my height”.

Dean chuckled, that low, gravelly laugh of his, shaking his head. “Good thing I didn’t make any jokes then. Just speaking the truth”.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Uh-huh. And what about you? What’s your excuse for not being in costume?”.

Dean shrugged, glancing down at his usual jacket and jeans. “I’m wearing one. I’m the guy who saves the world from monsters and bad beer. Pretty convincing, huh?”.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Right. Well, your undercover work needs some fine-tuning”.

He smirked, clearly enjoying himself. “Maybe. But I think I’ve got this situation under control”.

There was a brief pause as the two of you exchanged glances, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes lingered on you—confident but not overly cocky. Just enough to make you feel a bit flustered.

“So, what brings you here, anyway?”, you asked, leaning back against the counter across him. “Doesn’t seem like you’re the party type”.

Dean glanced toward the crowd for a second, his expression softening slightly as he nodded toward Sam, who was deep in conversation with Lina. “My little brother dragged me here. First date with that girl he’s been talking about. Figured I’d play the good wingman for the night”.

You followed his gaze and smiled at the sight of Sam, who looked much more relaxed now, happily chatting with Lina. “That’s sweet. You know, for a guy who doesn’t wear costumes, you’re a decent brother”.

Dean chuckled, turning back to you. “Don’t go spreading that around. I’ve got a reputation to maintain”.

You smirked, your eyes meeting his again. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me”.

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you, and Dean felt something stir—a familiar, easy attraction that made him forget for a second about the constant weight he carried. Here, right now, he could just enjoy the conversation, the way your eyes sparkled when you teased him, and the effortless way the banter flowed between you.

“So, Officer”, he said, leaning in just a little, his voice low and playful. “What’s the penalty for distracting a cop from her duties?”.

You smiled, biting your lip slightly as you pretended to think. “Well, that depends. Are you planning on being a repeat offender?”.

Dean’s grin widened. “Oh, absolutely”.

You smirked at Dean’s playful response, your hand casually resting on the pair of handcuffs clipped to your belt. “Well, if you’re planning on being a repeat offender”, you began, toying with the metal cuffs, “maybe I should go ahead and arrest you now. Save myself the trouble later”.

Dean’s gaze dropped to the handcuffs, his smirk growing as he reached out and, without hesitation, gripped them lightly, testing their weight. He raised an eyebrow, his expression intrigued as he realized they were the real deal. “Well, look at that. You’re not just dressed as a cop, huh? These are actual handcuffs”, he said, his voice low and teasing.

You leaned in slightly, your lips curling into a mischievous smile. “What, you think I’m not a real officer? Could’ve fooled you, huh?”.

Dean’s eyes flickered with amusement, his grip on the handcuffs still firm as he toyed with the chain between them. “I’ve gotta say, this just got a lot more interesting. So, Officer… are you planning on using these tonight?”. His voice was laced with humor, but there was a flicker of something more dangerous, a challenge hidden beneath the surface.

You raised an eyebrow, your arms crossed, pretending to consider it. “Depends. Are you going to give me a reason to?”.

Dean chuckled, finally letting go of the cuffs but not breaking eye contact with you. “Sweetheart, I’ve been giving people reasons to arrest me for years. You sure you can handle that?”.

You smirked, leaning in even closer, your voice dropping to a low, teasing whisper. “Handle you, huh? You might be the one who’s in over his head. I’ve got plenty of ways to keep you in line”. You gave him a slow, deliberate once-over, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Dean’s grin widened, clearly enjoying every second of the exchange. “Oh yeah? I’m almost tempted to act up just to see what you’ve got planned”. His voice was thick with suggestion, and you could feel the tension simmering between you, neither of you backing down from the game.

“Careful. I’ve got some special skills when it comes to making sure bad boys like you behave”.

His eyes darkened slightly, the playful edge not fading but shifting into something a little more dangerous, more tempting. “Special skills, huh? You’ve got me curious now. How exactly do you plan on keeping me in line? I’m not exactly known for following orders”.

You took a step closer, your lips just inches from his, your voice a seductive purr. “Oh, I’m sure I could find a way to tie you down. Keep you in check. Handcuffs are just the beginning”.

Dean raised an eyebrow, looking at you like you were the best challenge he’d faced in a long time. “I think you’re underestimating just how much trouble I can cause. But I’ve gotta admit, you’re making it sound pretty damn tempting”.

You leaned even closer, your breath brushing against his ear as you whispered, “Oh, I’m not underestimating you. In fact, I think I’d enjoy making sure you stay right where I want you. Let’s just say, I’m very… hands-on with my approach”.

Dean’s breath hitched slightly at your words, but he recovered quickly, his smirk never fading. “Hands-on? Sounds like a party I’d definitely stick around for”. He tilted his head, eyes locking with yours. “But tell me this, Officer. When you finally get those cuffs on me, what are you gonna do next?”.

Your smirk widened as Dean’s last words hung in the air. Without warning, you made your move—fast and smooth, taking him completely by surprise. In a fluid motion, you grabbed his wrist and spun him around, pressing his chest against the kitchen island before he even had a chance to react.

Dean’s eyes widened in shock as you swiftly snapped the cuffs around his wrists, his hands locked together behind his back. He let out a low laugh, his cheek pressed against the cold countertop. “Well, damn. Didn’t see that coming”, he muttered, clearly impressed despite himself.

You grinned, stepping back slightly to admire your work, your eyes gleaming with victory. “Guess I wasn’t exaggerating about being hands-on, was I?”. You leaned in close again, your voice low and teasing as you spoke right next to his ear. “How does it feel?".

Dean shifted slightly against the cuffs, testing them, but you had them secured tightly. He let out another chuckle, low and rough. “Alright. I’ve gotta give it to you—you’ve got some skills". His voice dropped, filled with that unmistakable mix of humor and challenge. “But you know, this only makes me want to break a few more rules”.

You grinned, stepping around the island to face him, eyes dancing with amusement. “I don’t think you’re supposed to enjoy this so much”.

Just as you were about to reply to Dean’s playful challenge, the sound of footsteps approaching interrupted the moment. You glanced toward the doorway, and there stood Sam and Lina. Sam took one look at his brother cuffed on the kitchen island and let out a long, exasperated sigh.

“What did you do this time, Dean?”, Sam asked, his voice half-resigned, half-amused.

Dean, ever the opportunist, turned his head as much as he could and flashed his brother a grin. “Hey, I’m the victim here. Officer Short Stuff took me down without warning”.

You raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly with a smirk. “So, Dean’s the name, huh?”.

Dean gave a low chuckle, still pinned against the countertop. “Yeah, well, now you know what name to shout when you need backup”.

You rolled your eyes, gripping his arm and helping him stand up—though not without a little roughness, just to remind him who was still in charge. His wrists remained cuffed behind his back as he straightened up, a smirk still firmly in place on his face.

Meanwhile, Lina leaned against the doorframe, watching the entire scene unfold with an amused expression. “You know”, she said with a grin, “I always said you were good at your job. But damn, girl, you don’t waste any time. Got him cuffed and everything. I’m impressed”.

You shot Lina a playful look, folding your arms as you leaned back against the counter. “Hey, what can I say? When you’ve got a troublemaker like this on your hands, you have to act fast”, you teased. “Besides, I thought I’d give him a taste of what real discipline feels like”.

Lina laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, I don’t doubt it. You’ve always been the one to take charge. Poor Dean never had a chance”.

Dean, still cuffed and watching the exchange, raised an eyebrow. “Poor Dean, huh? I don’t know, I think I’m doing just fine”. he said, grinning shamelessly. “But, you know, Officer, it’s probably a good idea to uncuff me now… unless you plan on keeping me tied up all night”.

You glanced at him, smirking as you considered his words. “Well, maybe that’s exactly what I had in mind. Keep you out of trouble, right?”.

Dean chuckled, his voice low and smooth. “Trust me, sweetheart, trouble’s a lot more fun when I’m not cuffed”.

With a mock sigh of reluctance, you finally stepped behind him and pulled the key from your belt, unlocking the handcuffs with a quick click. Dean flexed his wrists, rubbing them slightly as he turned to face you. “Thanks", he said, his tone teasing. “But next time, I might not go so easy on you”.

You raised an eyebrow at that, smirking as you pocketed the cuffs. “Next time, huh? Sounds like you’re already planning on breaking the law again”.

Dean winked, leaning in just a little closer. “Only if you’re the one bringing me in”.

Lina, who had been watching the entire exchange with barely contained amusement, shook her head with a grin. “Alright, lovebirds, let’s not get carried away”.

You shot her a playful look. “Don’t worry, Lina. I’ve got everything under control. Someone’s gotta keep an eye on this one”.

Dean gave a mock salute, grinning like he was enjoying every second of the attention. “And what a view it is”, he said, earning a playful nudge from you as Sam rolled his eyes.

Sam shook his head, grinning as he looked between you and Dean, clearly more amused than exasperated. “Alright, I think Dean’s got… something to take care of”, he said, his voice laced with humor. “Let’s get going before we witness something we definitely don’t want to”.

Lina laughed, nudging Sam with her elbow. “Yeah, I think we’ve seen enough flirting for one night. Let’s give these two some space”.

You shot Sam a playful glare, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. “Oh, please, Sam. You make it sound like something’s actually going to happen”.

Dean raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “Who says it won’t?”.

Lina groaned dramatically, grabbing Sam’s arm. “Alright, that’s our cue to leave. Enjoy yourselves, guys”, she said with a wink, pulling Sam out of the kitchen as they made their way back into the party, leaving you and Dean alone once again.

As soon as they were out of earshot, Dean turned to you, his signature grin still firmly in place. “Well, they were quick to leave. Guess that means we’re all alone now”, he said, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the way your pulse quickened. “You’re trouble, Dean”.

Dean chuckled, stepping a little closer. “I think you’re starting to like that about me”.

Two hours later, the party was still in full swing, but you and Dean had found yourselves gravitating toward each other, the banter between you growing more heated with every passing minute. The air around you both felt thick, charged with an undeniable tension that neither of you could ignore. Every teasing word, every subtle touch, every glance shared only made it harder to keep things light.

You were standing near the back of the room now, tucked into a quieter corner as the party buzzed around you. Dean had been throwing playful comments your way all night, pushing the line with each one. It was like a game, one that neither of you seemed to want to end—but also didn’t want to lose.

Dean leaned in a little closer, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke, his voice low and husky. “You know”, he drawled, that signature smirk plastered across his face, “I think the backseat of my car is practically screaming for us right now”.

You glanced up at him, your heart skipping a beat at the suggestion. There was that spark in his eyes, the one that promised he wasn’t joking—not entirely. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, but you weren’t one to back down easily, not when you had the upper hand.

Raising an eyebrow, you replied with a teasing smirk, “Oh, is that so? I thought you were all about being a gentleman”.

Dean chuckled, his green eyes darkening with the weight of the moment as he leaned even closer, his lips just a breath away from yours. “Oh, sweetheart, I can be a gentleman. But I get the feeling you might want something a little more… not so gentleman like tonight”.

Your breath hitched, your pulse racing as his words sent a jolt of heat through you. The tension between you two was almost unbearable now, a palpable charge that had been building all night. You could feel the pull, that magnetic draw that made you want to throw caution to the wind and close the gap between you.

You bit your lip, meeting his gaze head-on. “Maybe I do. Or maybe I just like keeping you on your toes”.

Dean’s smirk widened, his hand resting casually on the small of your back as he leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “I’ve been on my toes all night, and let me tell you, sweetheart, you’re killing me here".

The air around you seemed to hum, the noise of the party fading into the background as everything else blurred out. It was just you and Dean now, standing so close that every breath felt like a shared promise.

You could barely breathe, and neither could he. The weight of your back-and-forth flirting had built up into something more—something neither of you could resist any longer.

“So”, Dean whispered, his voice rough with desire, “what’s it gonna be? Are we doing this, or are we just going to keep playing games?”.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the temptation of his offer heavy in the air between you. Your gaze flickered to the door, then back to him. You could almost feel the heat radiating off him, his body inches from yours, the promise of what could happen hanging between you like a challenge.

You let out a slow breath, your lips curling into a wicked smile. “Let’s find out what that backseat has to offer”.

Dean’s grin widened, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “I knew you were trouble”.

Without another word, he grabbed your hand, leading you out of the house and toward the Impala parked just outside. The cool night air hit your skin as you made your way to the car, but the heat between the two of you didn’t diminish. If anything, it burned brighter.

Dean opened the door, the faint smell of leather filling the air as you glanced at the backseat. His hand on your waist brought you back to him, and you turned just in time to see him lean down, his lips finally crashing into yours in a kiss that felt like it had been building for hours—fiery, intense, and full of all the things you both had been holding back.

The backseat of the Impala had never felt more inviting.

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A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 

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Part 2

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