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dyingswanpavlova · 1 day ago

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"Your girl" - Part 9 | The Salesman x Reader

Summary: He shows you a softer side of him. Until he doesn’t.

Warnings: dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, mentions of sexual abuse and other traumatic events in the past, numbness, helplessness, violence, threatening, mentions of blood, mentions of murder and rape, body issues, trauma talk, stockholm syndrome, forced relationship, unhealthy relationship, depression, manipulation, mentions of sexual activities and desires, smut, rough sex, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, knife, over-stimulation, bondage, degradation kink, dom/sub dynamics, daddy, age gap, not beta-read, if I've missed any please tell me! mdni 18+!

"Your girl" - The Salesman x Reader Masterlist

"How old are you, actually?"

He raised a brow, but didn't yet look up from his newspaper. You could tell you had piqued his interest by the way his eyes crinkled into a smile. It even seemed genuine to a certain degree.

You sat beside him and watched him with a keen eye, not hiding that you were staring at him.

"Is there a reason why you want to know?"

You shook your head. "You won't tell me your name or anything else about you that matters. At least give me that."

He hummed softly. "I'm forty-five." He finally looked up from the paper and regarded you with mild amusement. "Is that a problem?"

You shook your head again. It indeed wasn't. You had long guessed that he was quite a bit older than you, but to you he didn't come off like a lecherous old man who was after young women to keep him young and moist.

He was simply...older.

Not old.

"No, I guess not."

He looked back down at the paper, while you kept shifting on the couch beside him restlessly.

He managed to successfully ignore your restlessness for a minute, before he sighed and set the paper down.

"I know I will regret this, but what is going on?"

"Have you been with many women before?"

The ridiculousness of the question didn't just surprise him. To your own ears, the question sounded even sillier spoken out loud. But you couldn't help it.

The question kept tormenting your mind and it had been doing so for days. You had to ask or you would go insane. Even more so than you already were.

You couldn't tell why the thought of him with someone else made you feel like you were in the worst humanly possible pain, but it did.

It made you feel like you were slowly suffocating under the weight of a thousand stones.

And how pointless was it?

It was in the past. You were the future, right?

Good God, what were you even thinking about?

"Are you jealous?"

He didn't even try to mask the amusement in his voice. For some reason that made everything even worse. Of course you were being fucking ridiculous.

Your face flushed a deep shade of crimson and you looked down at your hands. "I'm not jealous." You murmured.

Despite not even looking at him, you could sense the wide, unhinged grin that took possession of his face.

"You are." He said victoriously. "You're jealous over me."

You narrowed your eyes and tried to come up with something sharp and witty, but the truth was simply that.

You were jealous.

More so, your body stood in flames of wild, raging jealousy.

"Aw, come on. I was just teasing you." He tipped your chin up. "Don't pout."

You forced yourself to keep your eyes on him. His expression had softened somewhat, but there was still a hint of amusement and satisfaction in his eyes. You hated him.

Especially did you hate his eyes.

Even more so when they softened.

You hated everything about him. The way he moved and looked so effortlessly sexy when he did. The way he looked whenever he stood in the kitchen, flipping the pan around like a professional chef. You had once caught yourself staring at him when he tossed a grape in the air and tried to catch it with his mouth. He had failed miserably. At first it hit his cheek and then it landed on the ground, before it rolled under the fridge. Something rather inelegant, coming from such a dashing man. The way he looked at the grape and then at you, looking caught in the act. The way his lips curved into that delicious smile. Almost sheepishly.

Almost innocent.

“It’s your fault. Your presence is distracting to me.”

Your heart ached when you realized it.

You didn’t hate him. You couldn’t. But you tried to. God, how hard you tried.

“Can you just answer the question?” You murmured.

He hummed and looked to the side in thought. “I’m not sure how many it were. I didn’t exactly keep count.”

Awful.

“Were all of them victims to your incomparable abduction skills?”

He smirked. Your relationship had come a long way. Now you were allowed to tease him, without having to expect a punishment in return.

Sometimes.

It depended on his mood. And by now, you had gotten pretty good at telling when he was in a good mood and when he was to be avoided and obeyed.

It was easier to be attentive when your health was at stake.

Or your life.

“No”, he mused with a strange sense of sincerity, “and also you came along willingly.”

You scoffed. “You’re even crazier than I thought. Or just fairly ignorant.”

He laughed. God, you hated when he laughed.

It was so easy to lose yourself in the sound of it.

“Whatever it was, you’re here now. And as for these other women…It doesn’t matter how many they were, none of them held any meaning to me.”

Your heart skipped a beat. But you did? You meant something to him?

You couldn’t ask him that. As much as you wanted, your lips couldn’t form those words. Your fear of being mocked or rejected was far too great. The thought of him making fun of you for so obviously falling in love with him, him, your tormentor, him, your bane, your curse, your horror. It was terrifying to you.

He would never love you. He was incapable of having these kind of feelings. Of course, he had never said that. But you could tell. People like him had obsessions. No more. No less.

You were just something pretty for him, something to put on his shelf and look at with a satisfied smile. Something to use when he got bored or excited. And then you’d go on the shelf again. And by the time you became boring to him, by the time your beauty would begin to fade and signs of age and life would show on your face or the color of your hair, you’d be gone.

Gone like the wind or the ocean breeze. You’d be gone and he’d obsess over something else.

The thought made your heart ache with such fervor, it nearly made you cry, then and there. And what was the worst about it? The thought of him killing you, it didn’t hurt you half as much as the thought of him replacing you.

You had always known you had a weakness within you. Something that might accept when things got worse, something that refused to fight at some point and simply gave up. You had experienced it with your mother.

You just didn’t know how deep this weakness ran.

When he saw the distant look in your eyes, his amusement faded and was replaced by something softer. He frowned slightly and held out his hand to you.

“Come.” He murmured. “Come, sit on my lap.”

Reluctantly you took his hand and let him pull you on his lap. You straddled his thigh and faced him, but the expression on your face was still one of silent sadness.

He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, before he cupped your cheek in his palm. The softness. There was the softness again. You swallowed the lump in your throat.

You hated him the most when he was gentle.

“But you’re not like that.” He said quietly.

When your brows furrowed in a mixture of quiet disbelief and uncertainty, he shook his head and gently trailed his thumb down your cheek. His touch was so gentle, it made something in your chest ache. Your heart, most likely.

His eyes glowed in that soft brown and you felt the gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He whispered. “I know that I’m deranged, sweet girl. I know I’m probably not what you ever anticipated for your life. But one thing about me is steadfast and true. I’m honest.”

A shiver ran down your spine and you inhaled a shaky breath. “So?” You murmured.

“So…” He murmured back as he gently placed his free on your hip to steady you. “I don’t think about anyone else. I don’t want anyone else.”

“Why?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking.

“Because, sweet girl”, he purred and leaned closer to brush a soft kiss along your cheek, “Because I say so.”

Your eyes slowly fell shut and you felt yourself lean into his embrace. It felt good to be held by him. It felt safe, which was ironic enough.

He slowly slid his fingertips under your shirt and up your spine. It was one of the best things about him. He never ran them up your waist. He always skipped your waist.

The word mouse was as dead as Latin in these halls.

And he always asked if you had eaten already and when you lied, he could tell.

Never before had you met someone so attentive. When he wasn’t angry with you or angry because of anything else, he was the perfect man.

The way he looked at you was enough to make you swoon. The way he touched you enough to make you shiver.

The way he kissed his way from your cheek down to your neck made you gasp every time. And even when he ravaged you, he somehow always made sure to check if you were still there. You never got the chance to detach and stare at the ceiling, stare at the wall, stare at the floor. He caught your gaze, tipped your chin up and made sure that you were there.

That you wanted to be there.

And you didn’t have to say when you didn’t. He caught on that, too.

And then he’d let you sleep.

Or read.

“Are you tired?” He whispered with a soft nip to your earlobe.

The sigh that came over your lips was involuntary. A part of your mind was still hung up on the women. The women who had been there before you.

Were they prettier? Probably.

Were they normal? Most likely.

Did they make him happy?

Was he ever happy?

Was he even able to be happy? Did deranged people get a happy ending? Or even a happy middle? Maybe a very happy start?

There was something dead inside of him. You couldn’t tell if it was his heart, his soul or something else. But it was there. Just like there was something dead inside of you.

But sometimes you asked yourself if it was really dead or if maybe, just maybe, it had simply been asleep up until then.

You nodded slowly. You were always tired. That was part of being depressed and he caught on that, as well.

“I could run you a bath, sweet girl.” He murmured against your skin as he slowly rubbed his palms against your bare back under your shirt. It made you shiver and only ever press closer to him. “Or I could cook something for you.”

You shook your head.

“Are you still sad?” He whispered in your ear.

You swallowed again and nodded. Were you ever not sad?

He hummed thoughtfully. “Go get daddy your favorite book.”

The way your heart skipped a beat was almost audible. It always caught you off-guard when he did that. To refer to himself as daddy was bad enough in the bedroom, but when he did it like that, just out of nowhere, it made your skin flush in embarrassment. Yet at the same time, your heart raced. He wasn’t the only one deranged.

“My favorite book?” You whispered, sounding more breathless than anticipated.

He nodded. “Your favorite book from the shelf.”

With a slow, deliberate movement you climbed off of his lap and slowly moved towards the book shelf. You felt his gaze burn into your back. As much as it made you shiver and shudder, it also had something comforting about it. The way he sat leaned back against the couch, one arm draped over it and his ankle resting on his knee. God, he was perfect.

You swallowed and your eyes slowly raked over the rows of books until they stopped on Jane Eyre. It wasn’t your favorite book in the world, but it gave you comfort. All Bronte-sisters did. Getting a glimpse of their mind always made you feel like you weren’t the only sad and complicated person in the world. There had been others before and there’d be more long after you were gone.

You slowly picked it up and made your way back to him. He took the book from you and patted his lap.

“Lay your head here.”

Your eye brows rose, but you didn’t protest. Instead you curled up on the couch and carefully rested your head on his thigh. Before you even fully settled down, he buried his fingers in your hair and gently threaded them through the length of it. You suppressed a quiet, contented sigh. And when you heard his soft voice as he began to read, so gentle and composed, it made your eyes snap shut.

“There was no possibility of taking a walk that day. We had been wandering, indeed, in the leafless shrubbery an hour in the morning, but since dinner the cold winter wind had brought with it clouds so…”

You couldn’t even properly focus on his words. All you could think about were his hands in your hair, his soft voice and the warmth radiating off of him.

You lay like that, listening to the soft sounds of him reading Jane Eyre to you, until you felt like you might fall asleep any second. Which was exactly what you did.

It didn’t even take all too long.

There was a part of your mind that expected to wake up with a blade against your throat or Hell – not even wake up at all.

But you couldn’t help it. The trust came on its own. It was hard not to trust him when he was like that. Caring and gentle and concerned.

You had a dreamless sleep and by the time your eyes fluttered open, you felt better rested than you had in forever. You slowly blinked and tilted your head up to see where you were and what was going on. What you saw was him, the book tightly shut beside him and you found he was staring down at you. His expression was still soft and his hand still in your hair. You blinked slowly.

“How long did I sleep?” You murmured hoarsely.

He glanced down at his watch. “About an hour and a half.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Why?” He mused. “You needed it.”

“But wasn’t that uncomfortable?” You yawned softly and rubbed your eyes, something that made him smile.

“No, sweetness. You look endearing when you sleep. I could watch you all day.”

A soft flush crept up your cheeks and you averted your gaze. You felt as embarrassed as you felt in love.

You were sure by now. There was no point in lying to yourself. You were in love with him.

And you were certain, given enough time, he’d break your heart.

Or your bones.

Whatever came first.

The rest of the evening was just as peaceful. You sat at the kitchen table and watched as he cooked something you couldn’t even come close to pronouncing. When he still tried to teach you and you made a fool of yourself, he smiled in amusement and something akin to pride.

“You’ll learn it one day.”

He was so patient at times. And at other times…

You finished dinner and stood in the bathroom, brushing your teeth. It was such a normal thing. A normal Sunday. Brushing your teeth to go to bed, a silken nightgown kissing your skin while you did.

He spoiled you. You knew that. He brought home more and more and more clothes. One piece more beautiful than the other. And as much you always assumed you’d look like an idiot wearing them, because you just weren’t the kind of girl for silk and beautiful things, you ended up loving them all. It made you feel beautiful.

He made you feel beautiful.

You rinsed your mouth and washed your face, pat dried it with a fluffy towel and shot a last glance at yourself in the mirror. You looked nothing like the girl who had begged her mother to stop being so cruel. And at the same time, you looked just like her.

Like a girl playing dress-up, but her sad eyes stayed the same.

The faint mark on your cheek was still there, reminding you subtly of what he was capable of. Not even close to what he was supposedly capable of. You sighed and turned off the lights, before you quietly tiptoed through the dark hallway. You were already on your way to your bedroom, when you saw that his door stood slightly open. There was a faint light that illuminated through the hallway and you couldn’t help yourself. You stopped and stared at the door, unsure what to do. Should you go in? Or should you go to your own room and loose yourself in your thoughts?

But before you could think about it, the door opened and revealed his form in no more than his boxers. God, he was perfect.

You were certain you had never seen a more handsome man in your life. Even when he was angry and when you hated him. He was still so fucking perfect.

“Join me.” He purred. You knew what that meant. And even though he didn’t say it, you still knew. You had a choice. Even though he had made abundantly clear, he’d fuck you even when you didn’t feel like it (something that hadn’t happened so far), today you had the choice.

You could go to your own bed and sleep in peace. His soft voice revealed that.

Instead you slowly stepped forward until you stood in the middle of his bedroom. The red notebook on the bed caught your attention and immediately you felt a knot form in your stomach. The cruel reminder of the day he cut your hair and attempted to give you a new name. You swallowed and slowly looked up at him. He caught your gaze and his own landed on the book. Something in his eyes hardened briefly, but he quickly concealed it. He closed the door and went over to the bed, where he picked up the notebook and tossed it under the bed, where it landed with a soft thud.

He was still angry. You had snuck in his room and invaded his privacy.

You had disobeyed him.

He didn’t care that so many things had changed since then.

You had disobeyed him. And he hadn’t forgotten. He probably never would.

He forced a soft sigh over his lips, obviously trying to calm himself down.

“I’m sorry.” You said quietly. Probably a stupid thing to do, but to you, it felt right.

He shook his head. “Don’t.” His voice was firm and measured, as he stepped closer. The lion walk.

He stopped when his chest nearly touched yours and you were forced to look up at him.

The memory of the gentle reading and your nap in the living room wavered in your head. You were sure he was going to make you forget about it real soon.

As if on cue, he wrapped a hand around your throat and made you gasp. With a low growl, he leaned in and captured your lips in a rough kiss, forcing your mouth open and his tongue inside.

An involuntary moan slipped out of your mouth and against his. And when his hand squeezed tighter, you moaned again. He pushed you back until you hit the wall.

“Get on your fucking knees and crawl over to the bed.” He gritted out.

Your chest heaved rapidly. You couldn’t tell if he was still angry about the notebook or if his outburst had another reason. A more carnal one. Whatever it was, you slowly slid to your hands and knees and began to crawl over to the bed. By the time you reached it, he appeared behind you and put a hand on the back of your neck, pushing your face down against the mattress.

You gasped again and rolled your head over, so he wouldn’t smother you. To your surprise, he let you.

He used his free hand to push two of his fingers in your mouth, making you gag by the sudden intrusion and the intensity of it. This time, he didn’t use them to bruise your throat. Instead he pulled them out and swiftly slid them between your legs from behind.

You whimpered softly as he forced your legs apart and ran his fingers along your already damp panties.

“What is this?” He growled. “Didn’t I tell you not to fucking wear these at night?”

You swallowed. Uh-oh.

“I-“

“No.” He hissed out and spun you around, so that the back of your head landed on the mattress and you sat down on the floor. “Take them off.”

You swallowed and moved quickly to slide the panties off of you. You held them in your hand awkwardly, unsure what the hell to do. He looked so furious, it made you nervous.

He yanked them away from you. Then he used one hand to roughly grasp your chin and force your mouth open and the other one he used to force the soaked panties into your mouth.

You inhaled sharply and stared up at him with wide eyes. Of course it was degrading. And yet you felt yourself grow more and more wet.

“On your stomach.” He gritted out. “Now.”

You took a shaky breath and quickly scurried around to lay on your stomach.

“Good girl. You’re finally listening.”

He went over to the wardrobe and rummaged through it, until he found what he was looking for. His belt. Oh, you had a bad feeling yet again.

“P-please.” You gasped out, but it was muffled against the fabric in your mouth.

“Shut up.” He said sharply.

Oh God, oh God, oh God, oh God-

You had a strange and unpleasant Deja-vu, thinking about your mother and her creative ways of punishment.

But he didn’t use the belt to hit you. Instead he used it to tie up your wrists. You nearly sighed in relief, but you knew better than to do that. You knew what that might bring.

So you simply lay still and let him tie you up like that.

You felt incredibly helpless in this position, but the thrill of it was strong enough to make you drip. You closed your eyes.

“You’re such a bad girl.” He murmured. “Always sneaking around, doing things you shouldn’t, huh? Is that how you’re trying to please me? With disobedience?” He scoffed. “You just never learn, do you?”

He crouched down before you and regarded you with a long, scrutinizing look. You almost expected him to slap you. But instead you witnessed how he slowly sucked on his fingers, the ones he had pushed in your mouth just a minute ago. The sight stirred something deep within you and you shifted on the bed.

“Bad girl needs to learn her lesson.” He purred.

Before you even knew it, he was already rubbing his fingers over your wetness and circling your clit in a way that made you moan. Again, he knew just where to touch you. A thought that filled you with as much jealousy as it did pleasure. But somehow, the jealousy always won.

“Does that feel good?” He murmured. You nodded eagerly, squirming and arching against his hand, desperately seeking the friction that would bring you to oblivion.

He hummed softly and kept moving his fingers, only ever picking up the pace. “Like that, baby? Do you like that, hm?”

You moaned again and buried your face in the pillow, not even caring about the piece of clothing in your mouth, until he sharply removed his hand. You let out a whine and raised your head just enough to see the satisfied smirk on his lips.

“You didn’t think I’d make it that easy, huh? Oh, you’re severely mistaken, princess.”

And just like that his hand was back, resuming the movement and having you writhe in a mixture of agony and pleasure.

“Please.” You muffled out again. You were more than ready to cum, your hips twitching treacherously. And he withdrew his hand again, a mock pout on his face.

“Sweet girl is so desperate for me to let her cum.” He hummed. “Be a good girl and beg daddy to let you cum.”

You swallowed thickly, which wasn’t too easy with your panties still in your mouth. “Please let me cum, daddy.”

The embarrassment was still there, your face still flushed, but you didn’t care one bit. You needed this, needed him.

“I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Please”, you begged again, “please let me cum, daddy.”

He smirked. “I don’t think you deserve that yet. First you’ll be a good girl for me.”

Your hands strained against the leather of the belt against your own will, but it didn’t help anything. You were still tied and helpless. So you simply nodded.

You licked your lips which had dried out, when he finally freed your mouth.

“Who are you?”

You slowly looked up at him. “Your girl.” You whispered.

He hummed in agreement. “What else are you?”

Your face flushed deeply when you thought about what he wanted to hear. “I…”

“Say it.” He said in a more demanding tone and grasped your chin in a bruising grip again.

“Your cumslut.” You said quietly, but it was barely audible. It seemed good enough for him, because he didn’t insist you repeated it.

“Good girl.” He whispered and gently ran his thumb over your lips. “Spread your legs for me, my good girl. I want to fuck you. Make space for daddy.”

Your face flushed even more, but you obeyed. You slowly parted your thighs, making space for him. You took a shaky breath when you felt him settle behind you on the bed, one hand grasping at your wrists, the other one pressed into the mattress next to your face, so he wouldn’t crush you under his weight.

You hadn’t even realized when he’d stripped off his boxers, until you felt the tip of his cock rub along your entrance. A needy whine came over your lips and you closed your eyes.

“Beg me for it, baby.” He whispered in your ear from behind. A shiver ran down your spine and you held back a moan, when he began to rub his cock over your core in a torturously slow movement. You were so wet and ready and yet he held himself back.

“Please fuck me, daddy.” You whispered, unable to open your eyes. You were so ashamed and embarrassed that it nearly choked the words silent on your tongue, but you still forced them out.

“Louder.”

You swallowed thickly. “Please.” You managed. “Please fuck me, daddy. Please, let me feel you.” You were surprised by how desperate you sounded.

Even more so by how desperate you felt.

“That’s my good girl.” In a swift movement, he thrusted forward and filled you to the brim, not giving you a moment to adjust to his size, before he began to fuck into you. You head fell forward and you released a breathless moan against the pillow.

It was a mixture of pleasure and pain, but the pain subsided quickly, when he began to hit the sweet spot inside of you as if he was desperate to make you cum as quickly as possible. He had never taken you from behind before and you had no idea how incredible it felt. Every thrust hit the right spot and it didn’t take you longer than a few seconds until you felt the need inside you build up intensely.

“Oh God.” You breathed out. “Oh God, please.”

He grunted in your ear, a sound that made you all the more aroused. The sound of his quick breaths and the way they hit your ear was almost too much. And when he bit down on your earlobe hard enough to make you cry out in pain, it was too much and you came.

You came with an intensity that made it impossible for you to stay quiet. You cried out in a way that sounded surprising to your own ears. You had never been much of a moaning girl, but that was too good. Too hard.

Too much.

The pleasure quickly shifted into over-stimulation when he didn’t stop thrusting into you, even after your walls clenched around him. He moaned again and you bit down on the pillow, your legs trembling furiously.

“Please.” You gasped out. “Please. Too much-“

“Good.” He growled and began to fuck into with even more intensity. You were close to crying, it felt almost painful, but at the same time you could tell you were almost getting there again.

“I beg you.” You cried out. “I’m begging you. Please.”

“Yes, beg me, my little cumslut.” He groaned in your ear as he kept moving furiously. “It won’t make me stop.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head and your hips twitched again, desperate to get away. You strained against the binds again, but he just held your wrists tighter. Until he released them and instead pushed two fingers in your mouth.

“Spit.” He hissed.

You moaned against him and tried to obey, but it was hard with someone thrusting his fingers in your mouth as if trying to hit the back of your throat. You spat down on them and coated them in your saliva, until you felt him pull them out and instead rub your clit with his slick fingers again.

You nearly screamed when he did and you felt the excitement burn up again, until you were almost ready to cum. But you were afraid, afraid that he’d keep going until you couldn’t take any more, until you’d start crying and even bleeding maybe.

“Please.” You cried out again, your voice breaking with every thrust.

“Shut up.” He hissed as he rubbed your clit in a way that made it impossible for you to shut up.

“What are you?”

“Your cumslut.” You cried out.

“My cumslut.” He gritted out again. He was so furious. So angry. And he was keen on taking it out on you. Before you knew it, his hand wrapped around your throat tightly again. “I’ll punish if you cum before I tell you to.”

Your eyes shot open and you nearly choked. You gasped for air. He wasn’t kidding. You knew he would. You tried your best not to, but it was near impossible.

“Please-“

Your body betrayed you. And you came. With his hand around your throat and a loud, shuddery gasp, you came.

Your walls clenched around him again, something that made him moan out and the sound only intensified the feeling inside of you.

When your body stopped trembling, his movements stilled and he pulled his hand away.

“You disobeyed. Stupid girl.”

“Please, I didn’t want-“

He pulled back roughly and stood up, standing beside the bed and staring down at you with wide, crazed eyes.

“Gun or knife. Choose.”

Oh God.

You felt the way the blood seemed to leave your face and your brain. You opened your mouth and closed it several times. Was he going to kill you? Was this the end?

Did he make you cum, just to kill you?

Had he only read to you, because this was your last day on earth?

When he said you meant something to him, was that a lie?

Were you just his to torment, his to get rid of?

You felt tears sting your eyes. You wanted to cry and beg and plead. You immediately missed the man he had been three hours ago. The man you fell in love with. The husband type of guy. The silly man, who didn’t catch the grape.

“Please.” You whispered and your voice cracked.

“If you don’t choose”, he gritted out, “I will.”

A tear rolled down your cheek and you rolled over just enough to face him fully. Suddenly you were more than thankful that he didn’t rip your pretty nightdress off when he began to fuck you. Dying naked sounded even more horrifying to you. Dying was bad enough. But naked?

“I-“

“Too late.” He bit out.

He rummaged through the wardrobe again and came back with a kitchen knife. He kept a fucking knife in his wardrobe?

You let out a horrified gasp and tried to back away against the wall, but it wasn’t easy. You struggled against the belt that kept your wrists tied up desperately, but it didn’t work. Nothing worked.

And suddenly you were sure.

This was the end of you.

The end of a miserable life with an even more miserable ending.

He slammed down the knife beside your head and rolled you onto your back.

You stared at him with wide eyes and wet lashes.

“Please.” You whispered again, against the sound of a choked sob. What could you say to convince him not to kill you? What could you do? Nothing. Nothing at all. You were done for.

This was it.

“Spread your legs.”

You swallowed thickly. He would really kill you, while he was inside you?

The thought brought even more tears to your eyes.

“Please. I-“

“Now.”

Against your better judgement, you obeyed. You slowly parted your legs again, letting him in. Your arms hurt terribly, with your weight on them and now his was added.

He picked up the knife and pressed the blade against your throat hard enough for you to feel it, but not enough to cut you. And you let out a sharp gasp, when he pushed forward and suddenly he was fucking you again.

“My good girl.” He murmured and let out a soft moan. “Oh, my good girl, you trust me, don’t you?”

He began to move faster and harder, causing you to moan, despite yourself. You were still crying. The feel of the cold blade against your skin was enough to make sure of it.

But the pleasure rolled over you in waves, despite your fear.

You released a sob and nodded.

“My good girl. My darling girl. My sweet girl.” He whispered and pressed the knife down slightly tighter, but still not enough to cut you.

His other hand wandered up and he pressed his fingers into your cheeks, enough to make you moan out again.

“Say it.” He growled.

“I’m your girl.” You whispered shakily.

“Again.”

He was growing closer, you could tell. His movements, once controlled, became more and more reckless and his moans grew louder.

“I- I’m your girl.” Your insides twitched.

“Fuck, yes, you are. My girl. My good girl.”

He gave a particularly hard thrust and you were sure. You would…

Oh, fuck.

You came in a way you never had before. You clenched around him yet again and moaned desperately, gasping for air and not caring a bit about the cold metal pressed against your throat.

Instead, you felt it seemed to intensify the feeling somehow.

You were so helpless.

The moment you came, you heard him moan louder than before and his body tensed. With a low groan, he came deep inside you, twitching and throbbing.

A moment later, he let the knife slip from his hand and it rolled off the bed with a loud click. His head dipped forward and he buried his face in your neck as he rode out his release. He opened his mouth and pressed a hot, wet kiss to your neck.

And suddenly you were sure.

He wouldn’t let you go and you were special.

But was that really a good thing?

“Oh God.” He breathed out when he slowly came down from his high. Your hips twitched in exhaustion and over-stimulation. You had never felt so worn-out and satisfied at the same time.

You didn’t even realize how you were still crying, until he pulled his head back to look at you. The fury was gone. He was much more calm now and the softness was back.

Just like that.

His brows furrowed and he gently cupped your face in his hands.

“Did I hurt you?” He whispered.

Your eyes fell shut and you nodded. You sniffled softly.

His head fell forward aagain nd he pressed a soft kiss against your forehead. Then your nose, and then your cheek. Kissing away your tears. A moment later, you felt the salt on your lips when he brushed his over them, kissing you softly.

“I would never kill you. You know that, right?”

You swallowed thickly. Just a minute earlier you had been sure he would stab you to death.

But you forced yourself to nod.

“Good.” He whispered. “Because I would never kill you, my sweet, darling girl.”

He smiled and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“At least not unless you gave me a reason to.”

___________________________________________________

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If I forgot anyone, please let me know and I'll fix it!

Author's note: Sorry guys, his insanity won over this one. But I'm positive he'll show us another side of him in the future!

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fishnapple · 1 day ago

Text

How will they protect the relationship

(lover/partner/future spouse) - Channelled message

This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.

Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐

About me | Masterpost

Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)

GROUP 1

Sometimes, I fear that you will get used to our relationship to the point of boredom, that our relationship will become just a habit, a routine that you do everyday, mechanically, without enthusiasm or passion. That fear crept in my mind, taking roots, and there will be moments when I let it grow and poke its branches out. Imaginary scenarios swirl in my mind, threatening to spiral out of control.

But I will snap out of it in no time. I'm a master at bringing myself out of the dark, I'm a good runner, running in the night long enough, and you're bound to see the sun rise again. I will try to look at myself first, from an objective lens, to find where I can change, what baggage I need to get rid of. Then I will look at our relationship, I will find a way to lift it up, make it exciting again. Do you like puzzles? Do you like sculpting? Would you like to try a new recipe? Let's forget for a moment all our adult responsibilities and be free. To be excited teenagers again, falling in love for the first time again. I will write you love letters full of typos, sending you half-baked cakes and cringy T-shirts, you will laugh and you will join me.

I do notice that there are some people around us, people who shouldn't come that close, who shouldn't be there at all. They don't understand the concept of respecting other people's boundaries. They will try to turn a blind eye to our commitment, pretend that it doesn't exist. Blatantly coming in without knocking, thinking that they can just take you away from me and me from you. They think that their tactics are subtle enough, that in time, they can corrode our bond. Little touches here and there, the gaze, the "innocent" banters. I can see them all, I will try to put a distance between me and them, so I hope you will do that too, I also hope that you will patiently listen to me when I warn you of those people. Yes, sometimes you will have to call me a possessive person. I just want to shut out everyone dare to threaten us, to find a place where only us exist. But that's impossible, I know, so the best I can do is tell them off as clear as possible, trying to show that we're together, there's no space between us. Let them be jealous, we just need to focus on us and walk away, hand in hand.

GROUP 2

I know we have a lot of unspoken words stuck inside. The silence between can sometimes grow to such a suffocating weight, pushing us down, deeper and deeper into our own abyss.

We both will be so uncertain of our future together, where will we go, is there a place strong enough to shelter us, are we strong enough? We hope for the same things, we are so alike, even our fears are alike, and I don't know whether to be happy or sad about this.

Our bond will be tested numerous times. There will be a time when we've almost given up, but fate or whatever higher powers are at play here, will bring us back together, anew and ready to try again. I wasn't a spiritual person, but by being with you, being in this relationship, I began to believe in something intangible, in the unknown, it scared me, but all I can do is to move forward, with you, and that's where our fears begin. We move forward together, into the unknown future that holds no concrete promise.

Then I realised we've forgotten to remember where we've put our wishes in, what we've wished for. If we can just remember, then there's no point in worrying. I will give you a hint: it's a wish that spans from the past to the future. We felt like we've known each other for a long time when we first met, and I believe we will be in each other's lives for the far future to see. That belief alone is enough for me to feel brave. And I will sit down, take out my pens and notebook, and begin to scribble down the plan, the path for us, give voice to the stuck words inside, air them out. I will show you that plan and tell you to not worry about the future, instead just focus on this current life in front of us, we got this, believe in us.

GROUP 3

Sometimes, I think that we are two pieces of puzzles fit perfectly together. If not, then there's no way to explain how you have everything I lack, and I, in turn, have an abundance of things that you don't. We have our fair share of issues that alone, we seem to lack the strength to tackle them, but together, they seem so silly and easy. You can be the wind and I will be the pipes, you can be the water and I will be the pump. Now that sounds silly, but you get my gist. There will be times when you cry, I will be there, holding you close and being the cool headed one to make logical decisions. There will be times when I'm so down, you will be there, holding me close and being the soft pillow that raises my head up.

There will be problems, from inside and outside, but I believe we can weather them all. The problems will mainly come from the place of insecurities and misunderstanding. People's words can be cutting and unintentionally hurtful, sometimes intentionally. They sow the seeds of doubts inside our minds. But let's believe in the visions of ourselves and of each other. We see ourselves best. We will sit down, talk it all out, there's no barrier between us. I'm proud of our direct and open way of communicating. I can always count on us to be rational and discuss things until we can reach a solution. Yes, there might be tears and angry voices here and there, but they are the minority and will go away quickly. We're too sure of our commitment and ourselves to let those bother us for too long.

Whatever action needed to be taken, it would be taken swiftly. If it's required of me to be cutting something, somebody out of our life, I will do it, no hesitation. Because I trust in our judgement. And if it's required to move, I will move. I'm afraid distance will be our biggest hurdle. But we will find a way to be closer. Many things will need to be changed, our jobs, our homes. But we won't fear changes. Because changes will bring us to a better future.

GROUP 4

I want to prepare you beforehand, our relationship will be scrutinised by a lot of people. It's not like we are celebrities or anything. Why do they have to care so much? I honestly don't know and don't care either. Our bond just attracts a lot of jealousy and objections. The idea of us together will piss people off. They want something, a fixed future for us, they expect it, but then they have to watch a totally different outcome, surprises, surprises.

Particularly those who have authority over us, they're supposed to be the wise guidance, the benevolent power that can protect us, but they will turn their backs on us, worse, they will turn their sneering gaze and contemptuous words on us. That can't be helped, I guess, we're the rebels, we go against their rules and expectations. I know you will want our bond to be blessed by those around us, I want it too, but reality is something we will have to face. At first, we may even have to hide our love, it's frustrating.

Don't worry, I will be strong for us, you won't even have to fight anything, just let me take care of it. I have enough strength to do that. Don't picture the image of me making a foray against them like a bull thrusting its horn angrily. I have enough wit not to do that, just like how I've charmed you with my words, I can do it too, to other people, the people who are against us. If it doesn't work, then I will just be my best, showing them how much of a good life I'm having with you. In the end, I just don't really care. We have our love and that's enough. We can always move away, to a better place. You will be surprised just how much freedom we do have.

#pick a card #pick a pile #tarotblr #witchblr #crystal reading #lithomancy #tarot reading #divination #tarot #tarot community #pac #pac reading #witch community #astro community #astrology #astro #astroblr #occult #crystals

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holdmytesseract · 1 day ago

Text

One Night or Forever?

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: When one thing leads to another, you and Daryl spend a passionate night together at the CDC. Unfortunately, neither of you is interpreting the signals right afterwards...

Warnings: 18+! MDNI! smut (not entirely graphic, but it's definitely there - like, you know exactly what's going on), uhhh sub and dom Daryl? unprotected rough-ish sex? Daryl gets a bj (yes, you read that right), he's a bit mean, too - but also a cutie patootie, uhh slight angst? bit of drama, alcohol - drunk-ish Daryl and tipsy reader, fluff, swear words, bickering

Set in Season 1!

Word Count: 4,5k

a/n: You want it, you got it, friends. I don't know what this is, though - or which demons possessed me as I wrote it. I really don't. I also don't know how I should feel about it. Embarrassed? Proud? Send help, lol.

Anyways, I hope you like this! Please go easy on me. Smut isn't really my forte...

EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Booyah!"

Daryl's toast had been the starting shot for an evening full of conversation, fun, laughter - and alcohol. Some would say reams of alcohol. Wine, booze, beer - you and the group stopped at nothing. That was probably the reason why everyone staggered somewhere on a scale between tipsy and shit faced drunk at the end of the evening.

You were currently on your way to your personal room - something you'd describe as a luxury. Sure, back at the quarry you had your own tent, but there was a huge difference between that and a whole goddamn room. With a own freaking shower! It was crazy. Who would've thought that something so plain and simple would become such a valued, precious thing? Most likely nobody, because it was something taken for granted.

Well... Not anymore. Not since the world went to shit.

After passing a very drunk Glenn on the way, you more or less stumbled into your room. Tipsy... You were definitely tipsy. Without a single care in the world, you started to shed your clothes the moment the door shut close behind you. All you wanted to do was sleep. You had too much alcohol coursing through your veins to search for something you could use as a pyjama. You hadn't a problem with sleeping naked. Not tonight.

Unfortunately had your plan a catch... One that you weren't aware of yet.

This wasn't your room.

You were just about to free your body of the last piece of fabric you were wearing - a pair of admittedly beautiful dark blue lace panties, when a sudden voice managed to almost send you into cardiac arrest.

"Wha' the fuck 'r ya doin' in my room?!"

You startled so bad, that you almost lost balance and fell flat on your ass. Your balance was a bit off-track anyways, due to the wine...

With wide eyes you turned around to face the intruder.

"Daryl?"

You blinked. "What are you doing here?" He scoffed; his cheeks puffed out and reddened. He had been drinking way more than you did, and it showed. The archer's hands were fumbling clumsily with the fly of his jeans. "Jus' been taken a damn piss, 'n 'm comin' back to find ya standin' in my room." You crossed your arms over your bare - an information which hadn't reached Daryl's brain yet - chest. "This is clearly my room, Dixon." He scoffed again. "'S not!" "Yes, it is!" "'S not!" The man took a few wobbly steps closer. "Go bullshit someone else, I-" He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence; eyes widening to the size of plates. Now the information had been received and processed.

"Yer almost naked," he stated; bluntly staring.

Oh, you suddenly realised and remembered as well. He was right.

In any other situation, you'd have frantically tried to cover yourself up and perhaps even threw an insult at the man standing across from you, but the alcohol lowered your boundary of shame and loosened you up; making you see things more relaxed.

You huffed out a breath. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Daryl still blinked and tried very hard to not let his eyes drop, but that was an almost impossible task for the alcoholized man. "Why?" You shrugged your shoulders. "'Cause I wanted to go to sleep." The archer swallowed hard. "In my room? Naked? Ya lost yer damn mind, woman?" "It's my room," your tipsy self was still profoundly convinced, while you made your way over to the bed on slightly wobbly legs. Daryl just watched you; flabbergasted, speechless, shocked - and incredibly turned on. After all, he had a damn pretty woman in his room - no, bed. Half naked!

"You could join me, Dixon." He scoffed again and tried to walk in a straight line over to the armchair; accepting his fate. "In yer damn dreams. 'S ain't gonna help me - or my hard-on." You giggled at his words like a schoolgirl and rolled around in the sheets. "That the reason why you can't get that zipper up? You like me, Daryl? Like what you see?" You pestered him with questions; smirking, and watched his cheeks redden even more - if that was physically possible and your eyes didn't betray you. "Shuddup," Daryl just growled in response. You giggled again, before a long beat of silence passed between the both of you.

The alcohol didn't just lower your boundary of shame... It also caused you to become bolder. "I could help you with that, you know..." You tried to sound as flirty and seductive as possible and turned in the sheets once more, but now to face the man sitting across from the bed. You perched yourself onto your stomach and crossed your ankles in the air; swaying your legs.

Gods, you felt like a teenager again. Damn the alcohol and your crush on the archer. It was a dangerous combination, since you hadn't planned to actually act on said crush. Well, and here you were now in his - nu.uh, your - bed, almost naked and trying to seduce him.

Some might say this escalated quickly...

"Help me with wha'?" The archer finally responded after a long moment; dumbfounded. His usually very smart and witty brain slowed down by the alcohol. You thought for a hot minute that he had already fallen asleep on you. You rolled your eyes and groaned - acting like Daryl just said the stupidest thing in the world. "Your boner," you deadpanned - as if it was the most normal thing to say.

The archer swallowed hard; feeling his chest (and pants) tightening.

"Wha'?" He crooked out. The normally so talkative, glibly redneck seemingly rendered speechless by your boldness.

Once again, you rolled your eyes. "Do you reaaaaally want me to spell it out for you, D?" Daryl clearly needed a moment to recover, but once he did, he scoffed.

"Pf, yer bluffin'."

"I'm not."

"Yeah, ya 'r."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, ya 'r. Can tell. Yer way to innocent fer shit like tha', sunshine."

"Are you challenging me, Dixon?"

"Nah, jus' statin' facts."

Now you were the one who scoffed. He really asked for it, didn't he? You smirked and hid your face in the blanket beneath you. Oh, you were so going to prove him wrong.

You rolled your barely covered body around a third time, but this time to get up from the bed - which was a much more difficult task than expected, but you made it in the end - even though not gracefully and certainly not seductively. "Facts, huh?" You asked the crossbow-wielding archer then with a raised eyebrow and your hands on your hips. He crossed his arms over his plaid beige-brown shirt clad chest; bare forearms and biceps bulging with the movement. "Yes, facts." Although he stared into your eyes with his blue coloured irises, he still had a hard time for them to actually stay on your face.

"Well, you can go screw your opinions - or me. Your choice, pretty boy," you stated and shrugged your shoulders as you bridged the short distance between the bed and the armchair. Before the younger Dixon could even do as much as open his mouth for a snarky respond, you had dropped to your knees in front of him - between his manspread legs.

Daryl's eyes widened and his jaw slacked. "Wha' 'r ya doin'?!" He literally screeched and gripped the armrests of the armchair. "Proofing you wrong, pretty boy." You smiled up at him like a Cheshire cat; hands and fingers clumsily trying to open his jeans. "F-Fuckin' hell, wha'?! Yer insane, woman!" The archer cursed above you, but also didn't make any moves to stop you. So, you took that as a sign to continue. And continuing you did...

It took you a hot minute to get your eye-hand coordination straight and overcome the obstacles which were his jeans and boxers, but once you did, there was no holding back. "Ya really gonna do th- F-Fuck..."

You did.

"Told you, Dixon," you stated with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes; hands firmly cupping him. Daryl answered nothing. The archer had a hard time to control his breathing and rapidly beating heart. He was still gripping the armrests like a vice - his knuckles already turning white. He really couldn't believe this was happening right now. Was he asleep and dreaming? Was he hallucinating? Did the wine manage to fog up his brain so much that his eyes were deceiving him? But when he felt your lips wrap around him, he instantly threw all those thoughts overboard again. This was real. It had to be real. After all, he was feeling it, right?

"F-Fuckin' hell," he cursed again; feeling waves of pleasure crash over him. One of his hands loosened its grip on the armrest and went in your hair instead - tying your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. You were already too far gone to care; the taste of him addictive.

Working your magic, you tried to grant the man above you as much pleasure as possible - and it seemed to work. Within a few minutes, Daryl was a whimpering mess - a side you'd never thought you were ever going to see of him. Not in your wildest dreams.

"Ain't... Ain't g-gonna last," the archer panted breathlessly; the hand in your hair twitching. You didn't want him to. You wanted him to fall apart. A gentle squeeze of your hand was all it took. "Y-Y/N, damnit, 'm gon'- Gonna cu-" His sentence got interrupted by a low moan that paved its way to the forefront of his lips. The hand in your hair twitched again as he attempted to pull you off him. You didn't let him, though, and easily dodged his lousy attempt. Instead, you helped him ride the wave. His thighs twitched; muscles tensing as his high crashed into him. Daryl felt like he had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler - but in the best way possible. It had been so long...

The gentle grip he had of your hair slackened; hand falling limply to his side. You lifted your head to look at him to witness his blissed-out state. Daryl's eyes were closed, and his breathing laboured. You smiled; hands gently caressing his clothed thighs. "You believe me now, D?" He gave you a mere nod. Clearly he needed another few moments to get his head straight again. Your smile never ceased as you kept up your fingers movements. Your knees protested by now, but you didn't care.

Another few moments passed, before the archer peeled his eyes open again. Seeing you still on your knees for him managed to send another shockwave of arousal throughout his entire body.

Wide-blown eyes stared at you intensely; the gears turning in his fogged up head.

"T-Thanks, I guess," he whispered then. His voice was still hoarse. You smiled up at him. "You're welcome, pretty boy. Said I'm gonna help you." Daryl nodded almost shyly and clumsily stuffed himself back inside his boxers. You eyed him thoroughly and started to giggle. "Didn't think you'd loose it so fast. Wouldn't have pecked you to be a... premature guy." Not that it mattered to you, but you couldn't help yourself but to tease him a bit. It was meant to be a playful comment, but you seemed to hit a sore spot...

You could practically see how his eyes darkened, before he narrowed them. "Whatcha say, huh?" He asked in a gruff voice and stood up; towering over you. You blinked - were a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanour. "I-I, uh... Said I didn't think you'd be one t-to, uh, come too early..." The archer growled under his breath. "Ya better watch yer mouth, sunshine," he said in a threatening tone and grabbed your arms to pull you up on your feet. Daryl quickly noticed, though, that his legs were even more wobbly now that they've already been before; forcing him to take cautious steps. "What are we doing, pretty boy? You gonna make me pay for saying that?" You gave another sassy remark; provoking him and tickling his nerve ends even further. A grunt passed his chapped lips as he dragged you with him. Once close to the bed, he wrapped his arms firmly around your bare midsection and literally threw you onto the bed - wobbly legs be damned. You giggled at his eagerness and slid upwards to rest your head on one of the pillows; giving the man a confident look. "C'mon then, pretty boy, show me what you got. I know you want to." He scoffed and crawled on the bed. "Pretty boy my ass." You just giggled again. You felt intoxicated by the wine you had consumed and definitely aroused - which got only worse when you felt calloused, deft hands gripping your delicate skin. Daryl parted your legs and settled on his knees between them. His eyes were directed on your face. He looked like a predator - ready to attack his prey. It was incredibly hot.

"'M gonna shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers, just ya wait," he growled in a deep voice, and wrapped his arms and hands around your thighs like a snake - holding them firmly and simultaneously keeping you splayed open for him, before he literally yanked you down; bringing your hips closer to his.

Your breath hitched in your throat at his sudden movement and the upcoming anticipation.

His fingertips danced over the skin on your hips then - and suddenly got your dark blue lace panties ripped into shreds.

"Daryl!" You shrieked, then gasped. "Those were my favourites, I-" "'S jus' a damn piece 'a fabric. Dun be such a crybaby," he interrupted you; instantly putting you in your place. Your mouth clapped shut. This was yet another new side of him. Sure, you knew he was hotheaded, but he literally just went from kinda submissive to dominant within the blink of an eye. Was it the alcohol? Or truly his temper?

The clinking of his belt ripped you out of your thoughts. Some shuffling and the rustling of fabric was the only premonition you got, before you felt him against your hot and pulsating center. Your hips instantly bucked; trying to get closer.

More friction.

More pleasure.

More of Daryl.

The archer hovering above you scoffed. "Look how needy ya are. Dun even hafta prepare ya." You could see the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. "Tis all jus' from gettin' me off, huh?" You nodded and bit your lip. Daryl on the contrary shook his head, "Yer tha' desperate? Pf... Pathetic." and lined himself up, before hitting home.

Stars exploded in front of your eyes as his hips met yours. The most sinful moan the archer had ever heard in his life slipped past your lips; only spurring him on more. He picked up a firm, steady pace - leaving you a mess beneath him barely within a few minutes. Just what you did to him.

Revenge was sweet, wasn't it?

His precise, powerful thrusts carried you from one high to the next - and Daryl enjoyed it. He loved to see you fall apart beneath him. And this time, he was the one lasting longer. "Who's commin' too soon now, huh? 'S not me, sunshine. Told ya I'd shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers," he growled lowly; slowing his pace to just give you a few moments of recovery. You moaned at the sheer endless pleasure he granted you. Your hands gripped his thick arms like a vice after he had planted both palms firmly in the mattress beside your head to gain more leverage. "F-Fuck, Daryl," you whimpered; fingernails digging into his sweaty biceps. "I know. Jus' one more, 'kay? Can ya give me one more?" You nodded wordlessly. "Good girl," the archer praised and picked up his speed once again; pulling another sweet moan alongside some incoherent noises from you.

Your hands travelled. They left his arms to rest on his chest, where they fisted the fabric of his plaid shirt with the ripped off sleeves. The fabric held a darkened stain - a puddle of sweat formed on his chest.

Your hands continued to fist his shirt, as you pulled - an attempt to undo a few buttons. But once the archer noticed what your mission was, he stopped dead in his movements. "Nah, dun do tha'," he scolded you instantly and peeled your hands away from the fabric covering his upper body. "W-Why?" You asked breathlessly; not understanding his sudden mood shift. "'"Cause I told ya to!" He snapped.

Just in that moment, you realised that you must've hit another sore spot... But this time one that actually seemed to get to him. Not one that managed to turn him on.

"S-Sorry, D-Daryl, I-" You immediately apologised, but got interrupted once more. "Keep holdin' on ta my arms, if yer need sum'thin' to hold on to." His voice was gruff, but way more soft than a few moments ago. The archer redirected your hands and placed them once more around his sweaty biceps. Without another word, he continued where he left off, causing your grip to instantly tighten. "There ya go," he praised you again and readjusted your legs with his thighs. Just the slight change of angle was enough to send you a third time over the edge. This time, though, you dragged him right with you.

A broken sound - close to a cry, left the man's lips as he pulled out and coated the supple skin of your stomach with his release. A single droplet of sweat rolled down his neck as he threw his head back in ecstasy. It was a sight to behold. A sight you might never forget for the rest of your life - no matter how long your life was going to be.

A few moments later collapsed Daryl on the mattress beside you. He was clearly spent. Perhaps this had been something you both needed. Who knew?

"Imma take a shower," the archer announced after a while and left the bed - but not before gentleman-like wiping the mess he made on your stomach away with his hand. Without another word, he left, while you just laid there - still naked and staring at the ceiling; recalling in your mind what just happened. The sex managed to sober you up a bit. Did that really just happen? Had you been dreaming this?

You heard the water run, but not how Daryl returned to the room and settled down for the night in the armchair. You had ventured off to dreamland at some point.

To say the next morning was awkward was an absolute understatement. Awkward was not even remotely enough to describe the vibe between the both of you.

When you woke up again, the archer was nowhere to be seen. Now sober, you left the bed, picked up your clothes, noticed that you truly were - in fact in his room, and tiptoed butt naked down the hallway into your room. Luckily nobody had seen you. That would've been scandalous, right?

Your luck was also that everybody was quite hungover from last night. Some more, some less. Therefore noticed nobody the way you and Daryl acted around each other.

You could barely manage to look into his eyes.

You felt ashamed; thinking that you pushed him too far yesterday night. Thinking, that you were too bold and unable to control your damn feelings. Thinking that you pushed him away, instead of drawing him in. You anticipated that the archer must hate you now - and you couldn't even blame him...

Nevertheless seemed a conversation inevitable. You didn't want to destroy the friendship - if you could even call it that - the both of you had before last night.

It took you days to bite the bullet and ask him to talk, though. Sure, you had been on the road again since the CDC was a dead end, but that wasn't an excuse in your eyes.

"D-Daryl?" You approached him cautiously as you found him alone in the stables of the Greene farm; saddling a horse to go looking for Sophia. "Whatcha want?" He asked you and gave you a short look. You swallowed nervously. "Can we, uh, can we talk?" "'Bout wha'?" You watched him work for a moment, while your fingers fumbled with the hem of your t-shirt; trying to gather all the courage you could find. "That, uh, night at the CDC..." Your words came out as a whisper, but Daryl heard them nonetheless - and froze in all his tracks.

"Why'd ya wanna talk 'bout tha'?" He asked nonchalantly after a beat of silence and continued his work; had seemingly shaken off the small 'shock' quite quick. "I-I..." You started and sighed. "Things f-feel so weird between us since that n-night, and... I don't want that. I-I'm sorry for what I did. I'm s-sorry for making you sleep with me." Your eyes were stuck on him. You watched him and tried to gauge his reaction - afraid of what was going to happen.

"Yer sorry 'bout it?" Daryl asked then - almost in disbelief. Then he scoffed. "Do ya regret it?"

That was a question you didn't see coming. A question you haven't thought about yet. Did you regret it? Your memories took you back in time; letting you relive that night you shared with him. The answer was clear - as you quickly discovered.

"No, I don't, but... It was wrong. I shouldn't have-" "Wrong?" He interrupted you. His voice appalled. "Tha's what ya think 'bout this? 'Bout... us?" Daryl accused you with a grimace on his face. Was that... sadness you could detect in his blue orbs? Hurt?

You blinked; "U-Us?" were definitely confused by his words. "W-What do you mean 'us'?" "Ya know wha' I mean, Y/N." You shook your head. "No, Daryl. No, I don't. We've been practically ignoring each other since the CDC. We can't even talk properly! Neither of us can look into the other's eyes! Everything is just... weird, and you talk about an 'us'? No, I don't get it. Tell me. Explain it."

A frustrated huff left the archer's lips, before he started to gnaw at the pad of his thumb; averting your eyes. All of a sudden, the usually so confident redneck became all shy and insecure. "Dunno how," he started; merely shrugging his shoulders. "'S difficult, 'n I ain't good with words." "Try it, D," you encouraged him and gave him a soft smile. "Please. I want to make things right between us again." The archer nodded and took another moment - most likely to gather his thoughts. "'S tha' feeling, ya know? Can't pin it down. Always feelin' so strange whenever yer close to me."

Your heart skipped more than just one beat as his words urged to your ears. Could it be...? No...

"W-What do you feel? Can you... describe it?" Daryl lowered his gaze to the ground. The little stone laying beside his left foot suddenly became really interesting. "Jus' strange. Gets harder to breathe, 'n... My stomach's all messed up. Feels like an itch I can't scratch." You couldn't believe this was happening. Did that night cause Daryl to fall in love with you? "You're doing good, D. Keep going. What else?" You had to know.

He grunted; his foot playing with that little stone, before kicking it aimlessly over the concrete ground. "I... always go back to tha' night in my head. Can't forget it. Yer look. Yer touch. The way ya felt, I-" He stopped himself to take a deep breath. And you smiled. Perhaps having slept with him hadn't been a mistake. Perhaps you interpreted his behaviour wrong. Perhaps you just misread the signs...

"I jus' dunno how to act 'round ya. I dunno wha's happening to me. Tha's why I ain't talkin' to ya. Didn't mean to ignore ya..." Daryl apologised with his head still lowered.

You stepped closer to him and cautiously reached for his hand. He flinched, but didn't pull away. "Daryl, I... I think I know what happened to you," you whispered. "'N wha's tha'?" He asked; finally brave enough to lift his head to look into your eyes. You smiled and squeezed his hand. "I think you... are in love."

As quick as the man had lowered his guard, as quick was it up again.

He pulled his hand out of your grasp and scoffed, before he took a few steps back. "Pf. Love? Me? Tha's ridiculous, woman - 'n we both know it!" "Is it, yeah? You really think so?" "Yes!" He yelled, and wanted to rush past you - but you stopped him with your palm splayed on his chest. You didn't know if what your heart made you do was a wise decision, but it acted on its own will. Your head was powerless anyway.

Daryl's eyes travelled from yours to the hand on his chest and back. "Whatcha doin', woman?! Leave me the hell alo-" You had heard enough. You had held yourself back long enough. This was the only option you had left. It was do or die.

You cut the man off with standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips to his. It was a chaste, gentle kiss - but nonetheless meaningful. It felt so right. So good. His lips so soft and warm - compared to his seemingly rough exterior. His blond-brown goatee tickled your skin in the best way possible.

Once more, Daryl froze to the ground; not moving a muscle.

When your lips left his again with a soft pop and you reopened your eyes, you could see how his eyelids fluttered slowly open as well. You could feel his heart galloping underneath your palm. "What do you feel now, Daryl?" You asked in a hushed tone. Your eyes never left his. The archer swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I-I-I..." He stammered out; his cheeks heating up. "G-Good," he croaked out. "R-Real good." You smiled - happy that your heart had made the right decision. "Wanna do it again?" He blinked. The tips of his ears got red as well. "I-If yer willin' t-to k-kiss me again?" Your smile even widened, before you reached up to cup his beardy, red cheeks in your palms to pull him into another kiss. Daryl gasped against your lips; eyes falling shut and lips following your lead. It caused the kiss to get more intimate. More demanding. More passionate.

His hands acted on their own will, as they settled on your waist and pulled you closer. Your body crashed against his. You could tell that he hadn't kissed a lot in his life; his movements clumsy and messy - but perfectly Daryl. And you loved it. You didn't care how experienced or skilled he was. All you cared about was him - and all the love he deserved you wanted to give him.

He was far from perfect; had his flaws - but so were you.

"What do you say now about love, pretty boy?" You asked in a playful, yet loving manner; your hands crossed behind his neck. Daryl's hands gently squeezed your sides, "Shuddup." before he dipped his head to indulge you into yet another kiss.

Yeah... He was definitely whipped.

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @dixonsdarkelf @huntedmusicgardenn @ffsjustletmesleep

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sashi-ya · 2 days ago

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𝗯𝗹𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘄𝗮𝗿 +18 figarland shanks x f! reader x figarland shamrock

🩸 tw: one piece manga #1137 spoilers! if you don't know who shamrock is, careful! 🩸 tw 2: mdni. nsfw. threesome. dp. oral. rough. man handling. insults. 🩸 a/n: hi, how you doing ~ I said I wanted to write it, and I did. Did I totally ignore the fact I need to pack my suitcase? yes. And did my slutty needs win? also yes. Please enjoy. Don't expect much characterization about Shamrock or a very accurate relationship with Shanks as we barely know him. also, I now asume the "shanks" on the left is not shanks but Shamrock since he went to see the Gorosei and we all thought it was Shanks. 🩸wc: 1.5k

“Who could have said it was that easy to bring you back home, brother!?” “Leave her alone, she has nothing to do with this”

In between two men that look so alike, and still so different, you find yourself. Restricted by soft, noble hands with ill intentions… you were maybe only a bait.

“It’s ok, Shanks. He didn’t hurt me!” you scream, trying to tame his instincts. You know that the red-haired pirate’s Haki can stop you from breathing -and destroy everything around as well-

“See? She is not lying. I have taken care of her, brother! You shouldn’t leave your little toys scattered around the ports of this world, or else someone else might stole them!” Shamrock Figarland mocks Shanks, yet he does in such refined way it ends up sounding like a truth you might already believe.

Shanks eyes fix on yours; perhaps he knows something you still don’t know. Perhaps, he understands his brother might be right. Leaving you on that port some months ago, crying, feeling used, was something he didn’t want, but ended up doing.

“I must admit you have a great taste, brother. She is such a sweet treat” Shamrock purrs, having your waist surrounded by one of his arms, while his free one caresses your cheek. “Aren’t you?” he continues.

The emperor can’t stop himself; even if Shanks is rarely bothered by immature and stupid actions that are meant to tease him, this time it did actually enraged him.

Gryphon’s edge ends on Shamrocks neck, with you in between two man exhorting dominance and testosterone. Shanks sun bathed skin, with salty traces from the sea… Shamrock’s one, pale, clean, soft, used to the finest things…

“Stop!” you whine, pressed in between their chests. “Stop, please! Stop fighting over me!”

Shamrock laughs; he doesn’t seem disturbed by the burning blade against his carotid, and in fact he keeps adding fuel to the fire.

“You are scaring the lady, brother… do you think she is gonna prefer your brutal attempt to save her instead of being treated like a queen?” he smirks, pulling you against him more and more.

Shanks puts down the sword, slowly. He needs his hand free now, to touch your face, to lure you back at him.

“Should I save you then? Or should I let you choose in between him and I?” he whispers, using his fingers to lift your chin up.

The difference is notorious even though both have the same purpose; possess you. Shank’s calloused hands, versus, soft, never used hands… how to pick just one? If both are irresistibly desirable?

“I don’t wanna choose; I love you, but you left me alone… I don’t love your brother, but he gave me what you took from me” you murmur, perhaps already regretting your decision.

“Ah… then you want us both, don’t you?” Shamrock says, moving your head to look at him instead of his brother.

“You want us both, (Name)?” Shanks asks, this time forcing you to turn your head to him.

Both have their hands on your mandible now; cris crossed, their thumbs close to the commissures of your lips, and their hips plastered against your body. Both hard, both erect. Both desperate to assert dominance, to devour you like beasts, like a hungry dragon.

Oh, sweet prey you must bleed to death in between their jaws. And you are totally fine with that… “I want you both; I want you Shanks. I want you Shamrock-sama”

The tips of his similar swords already cut your clothes, tearing them to pieces, leaving them like rags scattered around you.

Nudity, delicious and tempting, served on a silver platter to them. Shaking, you receive their fangs on each side of your neck, carving marks on your flesh.

Shamrock’s fingers tangle in between your hair, pulling your head back, making your breasts bounce.

The Figarland brothers’ lips abandon your collarbones to kiss your nipples; each attack one; sucking or biting. The difference on stimuli you loudly whine, with legs trembling and slowly failing you to keep standing up.

“Don’t fall, come here” Shamrock lifts you up from your waist, pretty much ripping you from Shanks’ mouth. You get seated on a rocky bed, somehow like a sacrifice altar. Elbaph castles all look the same.

Shanks grunts, watching his brother walk around the cold cot as you lay on your back. And, immediately after, he crawls in between your legs.

The pirate pleasantly finds out you are dripping wet, something he knows very well about you.

“Go first if you wish; as an act of kindness, I’ll let you have her first” the knight spits, acting as if he is the only one commanding. “I’m gonna have her warm mouth around me, anyway”

You gasp, as they both look with pure hatred into each other’s eyes. Yet, the moment breaks as you are given little pats and slaps to look to the side; as Shamrock just said, he wishes your mouth surrounding his sex first.

“Open, baby” he orders, softly. And you do, sticking your tongue out while you wait for his hardness to go deep into your throat.

His white pants don’t even need to go fully down; he is not even bothered to do it; his sex out will be enough. Drippy and delicious, it lands on your tongue. You receive it, pleased.

And as he begins to pump in and out your mouth, you begin moaning and choking.

“Such a slut…” Shanks whispers, looking at your oral spectacle, at the way the corner of your eyes fill with tears as you gag with his brother’s dick.

And, while he thought he cared about your body being used by someone so close but still so different from him, the idea of you being exactly used is what got him harder than ever.

“Now let’s see if your cunt can still handle me” the Yonkou grunts, dragging his palm up and down your sex, getting it coated with your juices. From your perineum to your clit, fast, enjoying the humid feeling of more and more wetness, forcing your legs open as they tend to close in response.

Shanks changes his palm for his two fingers, gladly anticipating the way your walls will clench around his dick when he finally buries deep inside you.

Shamrock laughs while using your face as a fuck hole; a tight grip on your hair to move your head, to make it bob, like you didn’t matter, like you were just made to please his “holly” dick.

“Keep your legs open, little slut” Shanks orders, going faster and harder, masturbating and getting your insides ready for his upcoming intrusion.

And just before you could burst, the redhaired stops the fingering. Maybe to punish you, or maybe just because he can’t wait no more. He needs to replace his fingers for his rock-hard shaft. It has started to hurt from the desire, from the desperation to fuck you.

That desperation, leads the pirate to slide his dick deep inside you without a warning, without any delicacy or love. Just pure madness, making your insides revolve and your body retort.

“Wow, easy brother…” Shamrocks grunts, forcing your mouth to keep surrounding his shaft. “You are gonna break her” he continues, laughing as if he wasn’t doing the same.

“Shut up” Shanks grunts back, going harder, using his arm around your waist to keep you from shaking, manhandling you for his own pleasure. “Keep fucking her, use her, it’s all she wants… slut”

In any other situation you would have feel yourself sad or insulted, but Shanks is right… all you want now is to be used, fucked by them…

“Then, let me fill her whole too” “Now you are asking for permission?” “Come on… you know me, I still have some codes”

Shanks scoffs; stopping his hips from punishing you with brutal rams, he lays flat on his back.

“Come here, ride me and get ready… slut” the pirate commands, allowing you to crawl and straddle your hips on his lap. You let your shaky body to fall on his sex, feeling all the length reaching deeper than ever. “Good girl…”

You start riding him, while Shamrock’s presence quickly surrounds you from behind. He kneels and pushes you from your back to fall a little on Shanks chest. “I’m sure your cunt can handle the Figarland pride just as well” Shamrock whispers on your ear, tickling your shoulder with his long hair, letting his tip slowly slide your already occupied entrance.

It takes barely seconds for both to be finally penetrating you, and also for them to start fucking you at unison. Your hips lost the war, and now it’s theirs that move.

“That’s good slut, that’s very good… you can take us both so well…” “Let us fill you up until you can’t keep it inside…”

You are just a toy, trembling, stretched, used, fucked by two of the strongest men in the world. And what a pleasure it is to know you took the right decision, why picking one if you can have both? ~

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witherby · 19 hours ago

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WOAAH!!

Flight of Fancy reached 330+ notes!

ive never seen a request of mine blow up!!!!

—🦈

You have good ideas! And because the first part reached the reblog threshold, here's:

Flight of Fancy, pt. 2

Damian x Winged!Reader

Masterlist is Here!

"This is deep, and was made with a plain-edge blade. Whoever did this to you was trying to hurt you much worse than this."

Damian looks your wound over meticulously as you sit on a chair in the cave's medical bay. "What happened?"

You shrug your good shoulder, examining the space around you with clear intrigue. The Bat Cave was incredibly interesting, with all its different sections and complicated layout. You itched to explore it in its entirety. Maybe Damian would let you when he finished patching you up.

"I wanted to be free. The men who captured me did not approve."

Damian hums. He uses a pair of surgical scissors to cut off the sleeve of your robe to further expose the injury in your shoulder, and you let him do it without fuss. He grabs a wet cloth to clean the blood away and see it all better.

"Why did they capture you in the first place?"

You frown. Your wings, which are currently tucked against your back, flex and flutter briefly. You resist the urge to pluck at your feathers.

"They hunted me down," you explain, "and took me from my home. Said they needed me for what I can do."

Damian picks up a needle and thread to begin sewing the cut closed. You don't object when he warns you of what he's about to do or flinch when he starts.

"And what can you do?" He asks.

You don't respond. Damian sees your jaw clench, eyes darting towards where you know one of the exits to be.

"Alright," he says, "that's fair. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to."

"You are not angry with me?" You ask.

"No. We're practically strangers," he says, tying off the stitchwork and snipping off the excess thread. He grabs a roll of bandages to cover it, and you hold your arm out to give him better access. "Telling me what abilities you possess might lead to exploitation on your part. The safest move is to keep sensitive information close to your chest. I don't even know your name. I'm not angry, I'm impressed."

"Impressed indeed."

Both you and Damian look in the direction of the medical bay's entrance and find Bruce at the door, geared up in his Batman suit. To his credit, he doesn't look as mad as the boy expected.

"I'll need a word with you when you're finished, Robin."

"Of course," Damian replies. He secures your bandage and pulls away. You drop your arm. "Will you be alright alone for a few minutes?"

"I will."

Damian excuses himself, closing the door to the bay and facing his father.

"You're going to tell me off for compromising the cave, and potentially our identities," he says immediately, "and that's fair. However, I informed Red Robin ahead of time so he could hide any documentation, and the Batmobile took a scrambled route here, so they have no way of being able to track the location of the cave once they leave it. They know nothing, and they've seen nothing that can implicate any of us."

"That's not what I'm concerned about," Bruce says. "I'm wondering why you've brought them to begin with. The victims we help in the field don't come back to the cave, ever. That's the part of the protocol I need to know why you broke."

"They're a metahuman, father," Damian says, "and all of Gotham knows your rule. Where else was I supposed to bring a wounded trafficking victim if a human hospital would've turned them away the second they spotted huge wings and golden blood?"

"To the metahuman outpost on the edge of the city limits—"

"— which was being scouted and surrounded by Luthor's henchmen at the time of retrieval."

Bruce purses his lips. "You could have radioed a Leaguer to take them somewhere else."

"It's three-thirty in the morning. Half of them are asleep and won't wake up for a non-emergency summons, and the rest are either off-world, can't get here for immediate extraction, or they're busy protecting their own sectors." Damian crosses his arms and scowls at his dad. "I'm not one of your brainless coworkers incapable of any critical thought. I'm your Robin, and I know what I'm doing. This was the safest and most logical action to take for now."

Bruce sighs. He rests a palm on his hip and nods begrudgingly.

"I understand your reasoning," he says. "In the future, I'm going to update our metahuman contingencies to account for lack of recovery points. For now, you're in charge of keeping an eye on them until morning. Is that understood?"

"Yes."

"Good." Bruce turns away and heads for a different section of the cave. "I'll contact Superman and try to coordinate a retrieval. If he's indisposed, someone will take your place and keep watch until we can safely get them to the outpost."

Damian doesn't reply. He watches him disappear down the corridor, then reenters the medbay to find you missing from your chair.

"...hello?" He frowns, glancing around. There's only one way in and out of there, so he's not sure how you vanished. "Are you hiding?"

"No," you say. Damian looks up to find you perched on the edge of the fluorescent lighting. He has to squint to see you properly.

Your wings are out, flexing and adjusting to help you keep your balance on the light fixture. You look down at Damian with a small smile.

"I can hear many winged creatures in the adjacent rooms. There are none in here, though. I looked."

"Bats," Damian clarifies for you. "They're not allowed in this section because it has to stay well-sanitized. Bats have a tendency to carry disease."

"Is that why the bat-man could not speak with you in here?" You ask. Damian almost snorts.

"No, he's a human. He just dresses like...it's...it makes sense," Damian says, somehow embarrassed by your innocent curiosity. "His moniker is Batman. He's not a real bat. Just like my moniker is Robin, but I'm not a real bird."

You tip your body over until you fall from the light. Damian instinctively extends his arms to catch you, alarmed, but your wings flare out to their full length and help you coast gently to the floor again.

"May I go see them?" You ask. "The real bats?"

"If you promise not to touch them, yes."

You pout, bottom lip jutting out slightly, but don't argue. Damian automatically thinks back on how plush your lips felt against his and looks away.

"Do you have any other injuries that need treated before we leave this room?" He asks.

"I do not," you reply, reaching for the buttons on the front of your robe, popping them open one by one. "If you must examine me..."

Damian physically turns his whole body away from you, wishing his domino mask covered more than just his eyes so he could hide the redness of his cheeks. "No I don't! That's fine, you can keep your clothes on!"

You tilt your head, but don't ask about his flustered behavior. Instead, you reach past him for the door and turn the knob, stepping into the corridor.

"Don't leave the cave," Damian says, walking after you. "It's imperative that you stay here. You're not a prisoner, but this is the safest move for you right now."

"I will not leave," you promise. You look upward as you go, scanning for signs of any bats hanging out on the ceiling. When you find a cluster of them, you spread your wings again.

Hesitating, you glance at Damian over your shoulder.

"Project Angel," you tell him. "That is what they called me, in the laboratory. It's not my real name. You may use the... moniker of Angel."

Damian watches you push off of the ground, soaring into the air with a dizzying speed to admire the animals up above.

"Angel," he whispers, watching your graceful movements with unabashed awe. "Fitting."

#el speaks #damian wayne x reader #winged reader au #damian x reader #🦈

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possessedmen · 22 hours ago

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In the dim light of the deserted office, Leo stirred from his unintended nap on the sofa, his senses immediately heightened by the presence of his boss and long-time friend, Victor, who was now an alien vessel of desire. As Leo's eyes fluttered open, he was met with a sight that was both familiar and bizarrely different. Victor stood over him, but there was an alien gleam in his eyes, a cocky, dominant arrogance that was not quite Victor's usual demeanor.

Leo's eyes widened in surprise, his voice cracking as he spoke, "Victor? What the hell? Everyone's gone home?"

Before Leo could fully comprehend the situation, Victor, or rather the entity within him, began to speak. "Hey buddy, I'm not exactly Victor, but you see, that alien goo you rescued on your way to work? Yeah, that's me. I possessed Victor because, well, I read your mind, and what do you know? You've got quite the crush on him and I needed a body." The explanation from the alien, delivered with Victor's sarcastic charm, left Leo stunned, yet there was an undeniable thrill in the air.

The alien within Victor had read Leo's fantasies, his secret longing for this very scenario, and was now playing it out with an intensity that was almost too real. "Oh, you're in for a surprise, Leo," Victor replied, his voice dripping with a mix of his own personality and the alien's otherworldly charm.

Victor's hands were firm as they grabbed Leo's face, pulling him into a kiss that was anything but gentle. His lips were demanding, his tongue forceful as it invaded Leo's mouth, exploring with an alien precision that left Leo breathless. The kiss was a battle of dominance, Victor's tongue wrestling with Leo's, tasting every corner, leaving Leo dizzy with lust. "Wait, are we really doing this?" Leo managed to gasp out between kisses, his shock mingling with arousal. “Don’t worry about it and relax. Pretend that I’m the real Victor,“ said the alien.

As they kissed, Victor's hands roamed over Leo's body, admiring the contours with a touch that was both possessive and appreciative. "Look at you, Leo," Victor murmured between kisses, his hands tracing the lines of Leo's muscles, "You've always kept yourself in fine form. It's quite the sight, isn't it?" The alien within admired Leo's physique, enhancing Victor's natural appreciation but with a twisted, horny edge. Leo, still in disbelief, muttered, "I can’t believe that this is really happening."

Victor's mouth moved from Leo's lips to his jaw, then down to his neck, where he bit down, not hard enough to break skin but enough to mark, to claim. Leo's hands clutched at Victor's back, feeling the muscles tense under his touch as Victor continued his assault. The alien's breath was hot against Leo's skin, each exhale a promise of more to come.

With a swift motion, Victor's hand found its way into Leo's pants, gripping his hardness with a possessiveness that made Leo's hips buck involuntarily. Victor's strokes were deliberate, his grip tight, moving with an expertise that could only come from reading Leo's deepest desires. "You like this, don't you? Being dominated by your boss, your old pal," Victor whispered huskily, his voice laced with an arrogant satisfaction and a hint of sarcasm. Leo could only moan in response, his voice lost in the overwhelming sensation, "Fuck, Victor, this is insane."

Victor's other hand worked to undo his own pants, freeing his erection, which he pressed against Leo, letting him feel the full extent of his alien-enhanced desire. The contact made Leo's breath hitch, the heat of Victor's arousal against his own was almost too much. "You're really going through with this?" Leo asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and desire.

Victor then guided Leo's hand to his own hardness, making him feel the weight and heat of it. "Touch me," he commanded with a smirk, and Leo complied, his fingers wrapping around Victor, stroking him with a reverence mixed with desperation. Their hands worked in tandem, Victor's guiding Leo's in a rhythm that was both punishing and pleasurable. "You have excellent taste in men, Leo, especially with your obsession with this," the alien complimented, referring to his own cock with a cocky grin. Leo, caught in the moment, couldn't help but laugh nervously, "You're reading my mind, aren't you?" “Guilty“ the alien Victor replied with a smirk.

As the alien Victor kissed him, he suddenly paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know, Leo," he said, his voice dripping with a seductive playful tone, "Remember that trip 6 years ago after my girlfriend left me? You were quite the friend, weren't you?" The memory, long buried under the layers of their professional relationship, surfaced with a vivid clarity, enhanced by the alien's ability to delve into Leo's mind. Leo's eyes widened, "You remember that? How do you... Oh, right, the alien thing."

Before Leo could respond further, Victor's hand tightened in his hair, pulling him closer as he whispered against his lips, "I know I said to never bring it up again but you gave me one hell of a blowjob to cheer me up, didn't you?" The kiss deepened, Victor's tongue exploring Leo's mouth with the same intensity as that night, but now with an added layer of alien prowess. Victor's other hand roamed down Leo's body, reigniting the sensations from that memory, making Leo's body respond with a familiar eagerness. "Yeah, I did," Leo admitted, his voice low, "But this is so much more than that."

"You've always had a knack for making me feel better, in more ways than one," Victor continued, his voice a mix of dominance and playful sarcasm, as he guided Leo's head lower, a clear indication of what he wanted. Leo, caught in the throes of desire and the rush of the resurfaced memory, complied, his hands working to free Victor from his pants. "I guess some things never change," Leo chuckled, his voice tinged with awe.

As Leo took Victor into his mouth, he started by teasing the tip with his tongue, swirling around it, tasting the alien-enhanced pre-cum that was surprisingly sweet. He then slowly took more of Victor in, his lips sliding down the shaft with a deliberate slowness, feeling every vein, every throb. Victor's fingers tightened in Leo's hair, guiding him with a firm yet caring touch. "That's it, Leo, just like old times," Victor groaned, his voice thick with lust, the sarcasm now replaced by pure, raw desire. Leo bobbed his head, taking Victor deeper with each movement, his tongue pressing against the underside, his cheeks hollowing as he sucked with an intensity that made Victor's hips buck. "Fuck, Leo, you're good at this," Victor moaned, his voice a blend of Victor's and the alien's.

As Leo continued, Victor pulled him up, flipping him over onto the sofa with a dominant ease. "Now it's my turn," Victor growled, his voice dripping with anticipation. He positioned himself behind Leo, spreading his cheeks with a firm grip. With a slickness provided by the alien's own lubricating abilities, Victor began to slide in, the head of his cock pressing against Leo, slowly at first, allowing Leo to feel every inch as he entered. Leo gasped, the sensation overwhelming, "Victor, oh fuck..."

Victor didn't stop, pushing deeper with each thrust, his movements becoming more forceful, more demanding. "You wanted me so bad, you brought an alien into our lives," Victor panted, his voice thick with lust and a hint of betrayal as he started to plow into Leo with increasing speed. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through Leo. "But here I am, thanking you for it, you twisted bastard," Victor continued, his pace relentless, his cock sliding in and out with a slick, rhythmic motion that had Leo moaning uncontrollably.

Leo's hands gripped the edge of the sofa, his body rocking with each powerful thrust from Victor. "I never thought it'd go this far, Victor. But I'm not complaining," Leo managed to say between gasps, the pleasure almost too much to bear. Victor's hands roamed over Leo's back, sometimes gripping his hips to pull him back harder onto his cock, enhancing the depth and intensity of each penetration. "I'm inside you, Leo, just like you always wanted, but with a twist you never imagined," Victor snarled, his dominance palpable, his thrusts now a mix of punishment and pleasure.

As they neared the climax, Victor's movements became even more frantic, his voice a rough whisper, "I'm gonna fucking cum, Leo, because of you, because of this twisted game we're playing." Leo was right there with him, the edge of release so close, driven by Victor's dominance and the surreal reality of their situation. "Me too, Victor, me too," Leo gasped out.

With a final, powerful thrust, Victor let out a guttural moan, his body tensing as he climaxed, the alien's influence making the experience more intense than anything humanly possible. His release filled Leo, hot and overwhelming, as Leo's own orgasm ripped through him, his body convulsing with the force of it, a culmination of desire, friendship, betrayal, and the bizarre gratitude that had woven through their encounter. "Holy shit, Victor," Leo panted, "That was... something else."

As they lay there, panting and spent, the office returned to its quiet state, but the night would forever be etched in their memories, a twisted, hot chapter in their long friendship, now forever altered by the alien's unexpected intervention. After a moment, Victor, still under the alien's control, helped Leo to his feet. They adjusted their clothes in silence, the air between them thick with the aftermath of their shared experience. With a smirk that was both Victor's and yet not, the alien guided Leo out to the car, the night air cool against their flushed skin.

As they drove to Victor's apartment, the silence was broken by Victor's voice, though it was clear the alien was in control, blending its own essence with Victor's personality. "You know, Leo," Victor started, his tone casual yet carrying an underlying alien amusement, "I've gotta say, that was one hell of a way to end a workday. Who knew you had it in you to spice things up like that?"

Leo chuckled nervously, still processing the surreal events. "Yeah, well, I didn't exactly plan on an alien possession to make it happen," he replied, trying to keep the conversation light.

The alien, adopting Victor's sarcastic tone perfectly, laughed. "Oh, come on, Leo, you've always been full of surprises. But this," it paused, letting Victor's voice drop to a lower, more intimate register, "this was something else. I didn't know you had such a kinky side." Leo shook his head, "Kinky? This is beyond kinky, Victor. This is... alien."

Switching back to its own voice but maintaining Victor's mannerisms, the alien responded, "True, but you seemed to enjoy it. And let's be honest, Leo, you've always had a thing for me. Now, thanks to you, I got to live out one of your fantasies in a way neither of us could've imagined." Leo, still in awe, admitted, "Yeah, I guess I did have a crush. But this? This is next level."

Victor's apartment came into view, and as they parked, the alien continued, now fully pretending to be Victor again, "But seriously, man, thanks for the rescue. I mean, who would've thought getting possessed would lead to this?" His voice was filled with genuine gratitude mixed with Victor's typical sarcasm. Leo laughed, "Yeah, who would've thought? But you're welcome, I guess."

They stepped out of the car, and as they walked towards the apartment, Leo found himself asking, "So, what now? You're not planning on staying in Victor permanently, are you?"

The alien chuckled, the sound eerily familiar yet otherworldly. "Nah, buddy, I'm just here for the ride. But while I'm here, let's make the most of it, yeah? Victor's got some catching up to do with his friend, and I've got some... unique experiences to try." Leo nodded, "Let's make the most of it then."

#male takeover #male possession #alien possession

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sinsodom · 3 days ago

Text

Through with all.

What i don't get is the fans reaction. You point out that he is so bad. Please where?? We still don't know shit what happened and why?? Why judge a cover by it's book??

What did he do besides saving the kid meanwhile tucking her to bed cause she had a fever?? If a possessive man wants to lock a person up, they can. He never really kept her away, just giving her the choice to stay back and mc just doesn't. He even says it. But MC just sucks and cant stay back. (and yes he knew she can escape, hello??)

Don't get me wrong here. He is weird. But you guys complain more abt that than that he came back and Mc just was like: oh what a happy sunday!! Lets go home and sleep in his place and continue our lives.

Until now we know that we know nothing. And saying that he is a bad guy is just as always too fast imagining. If he is undercover he has to do some things. Nothing points clearly out that he is on the bad side.

Most of you don't know how life works, it showed. Undercover you cant take risks. The drugging part wasn't even one?? Hes a colonel and can't tell what he does so he gave her the choice. She didn't trust him so he had to act. (wasn't too inoortant to get kevi cause when she wanted, shed leave) First mc is persistent and can't be beaten and than shes not finding out what's up with all?? Come on.

All in all. Im sure he is undercover to find out all about the fleet, experiments and co. To save mc again. What they all did and do. Mc is just too proud to clearly make him tell all, like she did before. She prefers the easier way.

So no. Caleb is no Bad guy. He is just undercover and MC absolutely doesnt follow. Up with him so he had to control her somehow. After Kevi got saved i was like: ooooh he knew and instead of bothering her, they did it. And mc fucks it up again. Sorry but i would drug her too.

All in all i am shocked how dark the community wants him to be. Making and forcing up conclusions and theories that don't even fit. A bit dark is okay but you want him to be basically ww2 asshole. What is wrong with you guys. Rapes and shit?? Forced?? Are you crazy?? Chillaxx.... He isnt what you want him to be. Accept it. And wait for the future facts from him.

Until now he is sacrifing everything he has and feels for mc. Lets not forget that mc is always a target cause of her core....

For me, mc is absolutely disappointing in reacting to caleb. Cant always be 1 with her but the whole story she reacted wrong for me being devot all the time and just eating all with no further things. I wouldn't talk a word to him and look at him until he explains something. That was like: yes please hurt me again and again, no matter the consequences, mc needs it.

Ew. Story was good, community just kinda ruined it.... Sadly.

Have a nice day yall 💚

Ps: NO ONE reacts like this, having a beloved back when you thought he is dead. No one. Facts.

#caleb lads #caleb love and deepspace #lads caleb #caleb #l&ds caleb #lnds caleb #xia yizhou #lnds #l&ds #love and deepspace #lads #Love

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somerandomcockroach · 1 day ago

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Okay, but decepticon Prowl didn't plan and prepare and properly defect from the decpticons, he was thrown out.

The ask that mentioned him being a bad shot got me thinking.

We rarely see Prowl as a bad shot, so either one of two things are going on

1.) Prowl is just not emtionally invested in this fight and is running too many numbers for something else but he has to be here against his will

2.) Prowl is intentionally shooting certain deceptions because "they threaten the future of the decepticons" (they threaten and beat up Prowl)

So after enough "bad shots" the grunts of the decepticon base Prowl was stationed on (as barricade) beat him up, and throw him out. Prowl is annoyed by this because obviously he is important but he can't reveal himself without ruining his cover. So he goes planet hitch-hiking to get back to Megatron and obviously get reinstated and protection.

While planet hopping, "Barricade" meets Jazz who is currently under the name of Meiser since he is infiltrating and taking a look at some decepticon territory. Barricade does not know that Meiser has been following him since he got thrown out. Barricade also does not know that Meiser has his suspicions about who he is. Afterall, there aren't a lof of praxians left in the deception forces, and this one has some dumb gold paint on his cheveron that has already started to flake and show red in these harsh outdoor conditions.

Barricade does think that Meiser is either an autobot spy (since he is not accounted for in any of Prowl's databases and battlefield simulations), or has a major glitch in his logic circuits that got him kicked out and now desperate for any social interaction (which must be the reason why he is hanging around Barricade, since no one ever actually willingly hung out around him before, and especially nobody hangs out with Prowl).

Things keep happening that try to kill "Barricade". But luckly clumsy Meiser is right there to "accidentally" shoot the problem right in the processor. Barricade does not remember Meiser having a gun on him. Or a knife. Or that feral of a smile. But anyways he has places to be and a mech to see.

Prowl intends on turning in Meiser-the-spy or just ordering the death of Meiser-the-idiot once he gets back to Megatron. Especially since through this adventure, Prowl has learned that Meiser will listen to a long thought out and perfect plan, then immidiately go do his own thing, so he can't be used as some disposable pawn in one of Prowls plans.

Evnetually Prowl gets back to Megatron. It is unfortunate that this regrouping happens on an open battle-field, but Prowl predicts that the decepticons will have to make a hastly retreat in 27.8 joors and does not want to miss his ride home. He expects to be welcomed by Megatron, updated on all battle field data, and then sent to the safety of the back of the lines to go sip a cube and win this battle.

Except Megatron has noticed that decepticons tend to have more friendly fire where ever he sends Prowl. And Prowl has already given him predictions and battle maps and troop movement plans for the next 100 vorn. And honestly? Megatron has wanted to punch Prowl for a while now.

So he does just that. One moment Prowl is clearing his vocalizer to get his attention while he is OBVIOSLY busy beating up an autobot. And the next moment Prowl is 12 feets away with a large fist-sized crater in his chest. Serves that nerd right.

Prowl goes offline. Not from the injury. But from the glitch that spawned when Megatron didn't welcome him back and start a much needed debreif.

Anyways, Prowl wakes up in the autobot medbay.

HELP, oh you all really don't like Prowl and want him punched ahagsgga

In my mind it's hard to turn events to that. You see, I think Megatron would treat Prowl like autobots treat Ratchet. Megatron is ruthless in the way he treats his warriors, they fight for "freedom" so someone's life is worth it. Prowl always gives 99% successful plan with minimal risks. And these plans work because Megatron accepts them. Decepticons can say nothing but they hate "Prowl" behind all these plans, because they can see that they are turning in even more bugs than they were before. Before it looked at least like a live or die battle. Now it is a straight order of dying in their cases. But hey, ahah, who is this "Prowl"? There is only Barricade and a possibility of his hidden identity leaking, it's just Megatron can't keep his optics on him 24/7 so making him second identity is a good way of preventing him from instant death. I actually want to think of the ways Starscream could switch his attention to Prowl and not like him because he can't be bribed. "With such tactician even I can be a leader" and Prowl just "-_-".

Prowl is left without voice, tracking, comms, everything is done to not let Megatron find him, but he will search for him even if everyone tells him he is dead. Prowl just need to fix everything and not let others find any info on him and somehow leave to send a signal. So I bet there are much more layers to all of that. For Megatron to want to punch him he needs to be like Starscream or be a Sentinel Prime.

Pffht, imagine you see a very beaten up Decepticon, clearly beaten up by his own people. Everything that allows to track you is ripped off. What does it mean? They wanted to get rid of him while making it look like he died of accident in the end, they got all they needed from him and left him to suffer. Means he had something valuable within him and clearly will be more anticipating in the interrogation with autobots. Revenge takes a place, wouldn't it? So even if Jazz is in a good condition and finds him, he clearly will bring him to Autobot base right away. Prowl will not search the way on his own, he will be thrown out where it is impossible to get out by his own, Junkion, so his priority also will be to get saved even if go with autobots with the possibility of revealing his identity and he will make everything to not let it happen

#I read Decepticon Prowl by Hours_Gone_By and that's what I meant #Megatron targeted Praxus when Prowl was taken hostage. Why? Is it a paranoia telling that Prowl will betray you and threaten him?#There was mention to shorten Energon to not let one of the plans Prowl has possession to to happen #But this is so stupid of him to turn a tactician who can make the best out of bots with abilities to turn them against you #While he knows EVERYTHING about your plans and so on. You are a lead tactician of course you do.#And he just straight away bombs Praxus and it has barely any benefit behind it beside making Prowl break his agreement too if he broke his.#He wasn't even searching for him. They have seekers. They have constructicons. Prowl didn't seem like he was restricted enough to not help #Agh yep.#And then Prowl courts Jazz because he thought Jazz did. A?.. I mean. It looked out of context for me ahah #Idk. I can't feel characterizations #Oh Jabberish made snippets of reverse for Prowl decepticon 👀#My head is a mess don't mind me

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zablife · 2 days ago

Note

Hello darling! For your requests I found this prompt, would you give it a try? 🔥 😇

"Come on, don't just undress me with your eyes." - For Tommy

Thanks for the lovely inspo, Mar! I do love this GIF 😍

Tommy x female reader

Undress Me

"You can't be serious," you scoffed with an indignant toss of your head.

Tommy only stared into his glass, finishing off the last of his whiskey as he waited for the footsteps in the hall to fade into the distance.

"We discussed this," he mumbled, dispassionately rising to refill his glass.

"You never mentioned Finn," you reminded him.

As he passed before you, you grabbed onto his shirt sleeve. "I can't marry him," you insisted.

Tommy turned slowly, eyes falling to where your fingers dug into his forearm with disappointment. "Why not?" he asked in genuine confusion.

Because you wanted to marry me once, you thought before turning your bitterness to insults. "He's a fucking child you can't trust with a simple task!"

He rolled his eyes before producing a check from his pocket. Only then did he meet your insistent gaze. "Not even for this?" he asked, the steep arch of his brow demanding an answer. "Said you wanted security and a good life for your family, didn't ya?"

With the haunting memory of your original plea for help echoing in your ears, you eyed the check warily. "If he's the brother you've chosen for me, I want more," you replied, chin held high with what little pride you had left.

"Overplay your hand and see where it gets you," he warned with a sharp tug of his arm.

You staggered forward, feeling the acute loss of him. When had this all turned sour? you wondered.

He turned his back to you as he reached for the crystal decanter and you filled your lungs with a courageous breath. You'd need strength to keep going, but you were accustomed to it. Unlacing the front of your gown in anticipation, you waited for him to face you.

He did a poor job of concealing the hunger in his eyes, especially when his pupils dilated in such a way. "Come on, don't just undress me with your eyes," you beckoned in your sweetest voice.

Raising an accusing finger toward you he warned, "I know what this is."

"What?" you shrugged with practiced nonchalance.

"You're young and full of promise, don't waste it on me, love," he said with sadness tingeing his voice.

"So that's why you chose Finn for me?" you asked, wanting to understand his reasoning.

Tommy nodded slowly. "Has his whole life before him. Mine faded long ago."

"That's not true," you swore to him, taking a few tentative steps in his direction. "Come back to me, Tom," you gently urged, fingers tracing his rugged jawline.

He closed his eyes to your touch and you knew he could still be yours. Leaning in to swipe your full lips against his, you begged him to take you then and there. And he did, giving into his desire fully the moment his self control snapped.

You'd never felt so possessed by him, hands gripping you tightly to him as though you were his last breath. His mouth sucking a bruise into the delicate flesh of your neck to mark you for all to see. There was a blind devotion to his actions that didn't make you feel guilty for tugging him closer when he came inside you.

If you'd timed it correctly, you'd be with child before the cursed wedding day. Tommy wouldn't dare deny you then, taking you for his bride instead. You sighed contentedly at the prospect as his heart hammered against yours.

--------------

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vmlnrzmp4 · 7 hours ago

Text

nsfw

a/n: this was a request. it was a bit embarrassing to post but i left shame back in 2024 so without further ado, enjoy<3

the bathroom door opened rather too loudly. too hurriedly. itoshi sae entered, seeing you sitting in the empty bathtub—your eyes hazy, your lips parted, your hair messy and your hand down to your panties—you were wasted.

you were in one of the rooms at the party, getting shots after shots till you got drunk and needy.

sae, tho your ex, rushed to find you the moment he got to know about your state—knocking on every door in the house till he found you there. "i'm taking you home," sae said in a firm voice as he walked in.

you pouted, "go away," you say childishly but that doesn't stop him as he warns you that he'll have to manhandle you out if you don't listen to him. to which you counter by saying that you will scream if he doesn't listen to you.

he runs his hand over his face, coming over to you and crouching down—almost giving up convincing you. he himself had a few shots but his was right in his mind(atleast that's what he thinks), sitting by the little stool, "what are you doing y/n?" he asks, a hint of pink coating his cheeks as he sees where your hand is.

"nothing," hiccup "nothing you should be worried about," hiccup "now go away or enjoy the show. i don't care," you say, rubbing yourself even faster and faster and faster.

"stop it y/n," he says firmly, reaching for your hand but oh, you already came all over your fingers.

giggling, you give him a mischievous look, "wanna taste?"

"you're out of your damn mind."

"maybe i am," hiccup "that doesn't answer my question. do you wanna taste or no?" you laugh giddily.

there was a silence. and maybe the shots of alcohol made sae feel something he couldn't put a finger on, "...give me that damn hand."

you snickered as he takes your middle and ring finger into his mouth, licking them clean. "can you send in some guy," hiccup "i wanna get eaten out."

sae looks at you in disbelief, "you're gonna regret this next morning y/n."

you laugh saying you regret nothing—saying that what happens will happen. you don't really care. you've left the shame back in to the time where you and sae used to date.

"i have one request i want you to fulfil, itoshi sae," hiccup "bring someone in."

the thought of some other guy getting his hands on you alone pissed sae off. pissed isn't even the right word. whatever emotion it was—jealousy perhaps—made sae pick you up from the bathtub bridal way, making you yelp.

sae settles you down at the edge of the bed, kneeling down in front of you, rolling your dress upwards till he has a perfect sight infront of him—the panties you wore on had a dark wet patch at the centre thanks to your own fingers.

before he could dive his head in between your thighs, you held onto his hair, tugging back, "not you."

"...not me?"

"not you." you hiccup again. then again as you say, "you're not my boyfriend anymore."

sae reaches for your hand that rested on his head, kissing the knuckles, "y/n...let me."

you were starting to sober up but the fire inside you didn't die down, "fine." with your permission, sae exhaled in relief as he places multiple kisses and occasional bites on the inside of your thighs, trying to mark you as his possession.

he slides your panties to the side, letting out a throaty hum at the sight of your pretty wet pussy, "fuck," he breathes out. without waiting much, he attaches his lips to where you needed him the most.

with his tongue, he drew little tight circles, zig-zags, figure eights, and every pattern he knew that would get you off—as he was basically making out with your pussy.

you keep squirming and whimpering—moaning his name and even the nickname you would call him when the two of you used to date. he groans at that, the vibrations on your pussy puts you over the edge and without warning, you come undone on his tongue, without him knowing.

and when you do so, you fall back on the bed, giggling to yourself, so tired, closing your eyes, on your way there to the dreamland.

you don't care—or even have the strength to complain about the overstimulation by the ministrations sae is providing you with.

when he's finally satisfied, he looks up at you but you were already fast asleep. sae sits besides you on the bed, running a hand through his hair, panting as he looks at your vulnerable figure.

you don't belong in her life anymore.

a voice echoed in his head.

she deserves better.

another one said.

sae gets up from the bed, fixing himself. one step, two step, three step...more steps and he'll be out of your life completely.

so he halts himself, turning around to you. you were carelessly sleeping. a drool rolling from your mouth to your cheek as you snored lightly—this elegant sight of you that sae loved dearly.

how can you walk back into her life like nothing?

"i can," he counters, making his way to you. adjusting your dress so you're not uncomfy. he pulls the duvet—covering you with it.

she deserves better.

"she deserves me."

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secret-moonstruck · 1 day ago

Text

STUCK ON ME | Y.JW | PART 2

— Pairing: Jungwon x fem!reader | Part 01 | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: When Y/N was with her friend, Jungwon became jealous and possessive. He decided to show who Y/N belonged to. .

— Genre: smut, Horror, bloody

— Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, praising, cum inside, making out, clit play, begging, hickeys, cum eating, overstimulation, gore, death, blood, torture, kidnapping, more. .

Warning: The content may be dangerous. Read at your own discretion.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories.

A few weeks have passed since Y/N met Jungwon, at first it was a bit difficult, but now she was getting used to the situation.

She had gone out for drinks with some people from the publishing house to celebrate the sales of her book, among them was Hyun, he was the cute guy who worked there and he always showed interest in Y/N, whenever she went to the publishing house he tried to please her.

When they left the bar, they decided to walk a bit. He was a little drunk and started confessing to Y/N again.

- Why don't you go out with me? - He said, stopping suddenly and turning her towards him.

Before Y/N could say anything, he disappeared. She saw him a short distance away in the alley next door, pinned against the wall with a furious Jungwon choking him.

- What the hell is this? What the hell are you doing? - She ran towards them. - Let him go now, Jungwon.

She ordered, she knew he couldn't disobey an order from her, she had already witnessed how it caused some kind of horrible pain.

However, he didn't let him go; he suffocated him until his body fell to the ground unconscious.

Y/N thought he had killed him, and out of fear, she ended up fainting.

Upon waking up, she still felt a bit dazed, looked around, and saw that she was in some kind of abandoned warehouse. She saw Jungwon sitting on a table reading a book calmly, but when he lowered the book and smiled at her, his face and clothes were covered in blood.

She looked around desperately and saw Hyun unconscious, bloodied, and tied up in a corner of the room.

- Did you kill him? - She asked in despair.

Jungwon rolled his eyes before putting down the book and getting off the table.

- Not yet, my dear. Maybe, if you are very nice, I'll let him live.

He approached Hyun and kicked him to wake him up.

- Where is Y/N? Please, let us go. - Hyun said as soon as he woke up, further irritating Jungwon.

- Who or what do you think you are to try to steal something that is mine? - He lifted him up before throwing him back to the ground.

- Please stop. He is innocent, he didn't do anything. I am yours, okay, you know, you always remind me of that. He has nothing to do with us, let him go. - Y/N pleaded.

A horrible pain coursed through Jungwon's entire body for disobeying her, but it only enraged him even more; she was causing him pain to protect that worm.

Jungwon approached her, lowering himself to her level with a smile that frightened her.

- I know you are mine, but it seems he doesn't know yet, and you seem to have forgotten. - He squeezed her neck, making her stand up. - Maybe I should remind you who you belong to, and show this nothing that you only have one owner.

Still with his hands on her neck, he pulled her face for a kiss full of anger.

- Now, how about you being a good girl? - He pushed her away, and as if it were nothing, dragged the table to where she was.

- Don't touch her, or I'll kill you. - Hyun shouted.

Jungwon went up to him and gagged him, he wanted to kill him, but not before displaying her, not before showing who she belongs to.

Leaning against the table, he ordered her to come closer, she obeyed out of fear.

- Suck me, like the good slut you are, show him what he'll never have.

Trembling, Y/N did as he commanded, kneeling in front of him. She tried to open his pants, but she was trembling too much. He got irritated and took off his clothes by himself, his cock already hard, waiting to be sucked.

Y/N looked at Hyun, who was struggling to break free, before turning their attention back to Jungwon.

With tears in her eyes, she touched him, pumping it before running her tongue over the tip covered with pre-cum, eliciting a moan from him. She licked his length a few times before putting it in her mouth, starting to suck it, but he needed more, he pushed everything in, making her gag.

Jungwon held her by the hair while pushing deep into her throat. The sight of her crying, choking on his cock, excited him even more; he pulled out of her lips and came all over her face.

- Come here dear. - He said, helping her to stand up and bringing her closer to Hyun. He pushed her in front of him, holding her face firmly to confront Hyun.

- Isn't she beautiful covered in my cum? - He smiled frighteningly as he said that.

- Do you know how she becomes more beautiful? When she's moaning desperately for me to fuck her. - Upon saying this, he bit Y/N's neck.

Y/N shuddered at the initial pain of the bite, but soon it was exactly as he wanted, moans escaping her lips mixed with her heavy breathing. Her legs tightening as she began to feel aroused.

Hyun looked horrified as Jungwon drank Y/N's blood. Jungwon easily tore her dress, and did the same with her underwear, before running his fingers over Y/N's pussy.

- You really are a slut, how can you already be so wet? You really get turned on by having your blood sucked, don't you?

Desperate moans escaped Y/N's lips as Jungwon's fingers worked on her pussy. She no longer cared about anything else, she just wanted more.

- Yes, yes, please, Jungwon, I love this, more, please.

Despite being scared, Hyun was starting to get excited seeing Y/N in that state. It was wrong, everything there was wrong, but he couldn't help it.

- Look Y/N, he likes what he sees. - Jungwon continued his movements while rubbing her clitoris with his other hand. - Come on, darling, cum for me already, let's go.

She shuddered, Jungwon's voice both sweet and venomous pushing her to orgasm, she came on his fingers, just as he wanted.

He raised his hand, displaying it with a smile before licking his fingers, while moaning in pleasure.

Y/N knew it wasn't over yet, Jungwon picked her up, she was still trembling when he set her down on the table.

He saw her tired face, her eyes red from crying. He wiped her face, which was still covered in his cum.

- You don't know how beautiful you look like this, all messed up. - He said, caressing her face. His fingers running over her face and neck. - It just makes me want you even more.

He said before biting her again, while pushing his painful cock into her wet pussy.

Y/N gasped in surprise when she felt him enter her so suddenly. If it weren't for him holding her, she would have already collapsed on the table while he mercilessly pounded inside her, the sound echoing through the room.

- J... Jungwon, please! I want, I need. - Y/N was begging for their liberation.

Hearing Y/N's pleas, Jungwon couldn't hold back and came, painting the inside of Y/N, who not long after also reached their orgasm.

Jungwon pulled away from Y/N, watched for a few seconds as her pussy leaked before starting to lick it, holding her thighs firmly. While sucking every drop, his claws tore into Y/N's thighs, who screamed with a mix of pain and pleasure, still very sensitive from the previous orgasm. She buckled, trembling, when she came again, this time more intensely than the others, covering Jungwon's face, who savored every drop before releasing her with an arrogant smile, while Y/N collapsed on the table, her breath still uneven.

She had already forgotten about Hyun, but when she remembered and looked in his direction, her eyes widened in panic.

Jungwon, already dressed, was holding Hyun by the neck with his hand inside his chest.

- No! - Y/N shouted, a desperate scream, a scream that caused an unbearable pain in Jungwon, he had already endured too much pain disobeying her that night.

With a quick movement, Jungwon pulled his hand back, covered in blood, with Hyun's heart in it. Blood splattering across his face, while the most terrifying smile Y/N could imagine was on his face.

He threw Hyun's body to the ground and went to Y/N. The pain of disobedience was torturous, but the anger was greater.

- This is so you never forget that you belong solely to me. - He held her by the shoulders. - And remember that I will never allow you to get close to any man again. I am the only one for whom you should exist. You are mine, and you must never forget that.

The panic that was etched on Y/N's face was replaced by a dark smile, which left Jungwon confused.

- What? Why are you smiling? - He said, releasing her.

Y/N pulled Jungwon close, tilting their head while still smiling.

- You look so sexy like this. - She pushed him away while assessing how he was covered in blood, eyes shining, his expression full of rage. She loved it.

- Y/N said while getting dressed. - Just thinking about having to put up with him every time I entered that building. Aaaah, so annoying.

Jungwon was confused, why was she acting like this when just a moment ago she was crying for him to spare Hyun?

- You know, Jungwon, I was kind of missing the feeling from when we first met, how you seemed so cruel that night. I wanted to see that side of you again, so I decided to combine two useful things. I could have fun and also get rid of something annoying.

- You are a psychopath. - Jungwon didn't know if he found her scary or amazing.

- Oh, no, of course not. I'm just a defenseless woman trapped by a sadistic vampire. - She said with a false fear on her face before approaching him with a smile and kissing him.

— Note2: Sorry if it's not good, I'll try to improve it.

#smut #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen smut #enhypen scenarios #kpop #kpop fanfic #enhypen imagines #jungwon #jungwon smut #jungwon x reader #jungwon imagine #vampire #vampire jungwon

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enchantedtomeetyou1113 · 2 days ago

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Friends don’t look at friends that way

Levi x reader

A/n: helllooo so this is loosely inspired by the song ‘that way’ by Tate McRae. This is also part one of my oneshot book on wattpad ( @saige_1313) enjoy!

Summary: you and Levi are just friends. just friends….

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The mixed signals drive her crazy. Crazy might be an understatement, but more or less Levi runs her around in circles like he always seems to do.

It seems to her that there might be two different Levis in the regiment.

There's one that invites her to his office for tea at late hours, and another who ignores her in-front of the others. There's one who checks on her after every mission and one who acts like he doesn't know all her past traumas (that she told him after several late night tea sessions) .

There's the Levi who would listen to her rants and sit close to her while they do paperwork. Closer than socially acceptable for 'friends' and then the other the next morning would sit on the opposite side of the table and throw jabs at the way she likes her tea. But didn't he say it was tolerable last night? Why did it seem like he tried to embarrass her in-front of everyone else?

The whole day she felt exhausted physically and mentally. Everything captain related was weighing on her heavy and Levi-well he was making it worse. Today he was extra rude in-front of Hange and Erwin and the other captains saying things like "Captain y/n shouldn't be in that position-she's not nearly strong enough."

Her eyes glared at him as he stood with his arms crossed and a bored look on his face. He didn't even acknowledge it which made her more mad. And of course Erwin listened to him.

So now she sits in her office with her head on her desk completely drained from the events of today.

It was late hours and she barely felt like sleeping.

A knock was heard on her door and she knew that knock. She's grown used to it after all these months. The uninterested woman didn't pick her head up, instead hoping he'd just walk away and assume she was asleep.

"I know you aren't sleeping." his usual flat voice was muffled by the door but she could just imagine his eyes roll. He opened the door and leaned against the frame, looking at the sight infront of him. "Someone looks miserable."

She sighs picking her head up from the desk. "What do you want? I'm not in the mood for tea."

He raises one brow, "not in the mood,huh?" "Nope" she quips back.

He gazes at her, not just looking at her,but peering into her very being as if he possesses the ability to see through any wall she puts up. Of course when he looks at her like that (which he does a lot) her walls come crumbling down.

"What's got you so upset,brat." He walks towards her desk plopping into the chair infront of her. "Nothing, alright? Can't you just give me one night of solitary?" She pinches the bridge of her nose. "Hmph..I didn't know was presence was so overbearing ." He says not taking any real offense. "It seems like it's the other way around." She muttered. He cocked his brow at the words she mumbled. "What makes you think that?" He asked.

Her eyes gazed at his,disbelief plastered all over her face. Could he really be that incredibly dense or is he completely unhinged? She was unable to fathom how he was so oblivious to the situation.

"You have to be joking." Her voice heated.

"Tch, are you mad because I made fun of your tea?" He had the audacity to smirk, which made her even more furious. "I don't get it Levi-" she starts sitting straighter her body language tense.

"Why do you act like-like you LIKE me then act like you hate me infront of everyone else? It's like you mess with me on purpose! Why?" She demanded.

He looked as if he wasn't phased one bit by her outburst. "Y/n, this is never gonna happen."

She blinked,shaking off the initial wave of anger that had washed over her face,as it quickly transformed into one of hurt. Her eyebrows furrowed "what...?" She asked her voice tinged with puzzlement "Levi,so...what are we?" He looked at her like the question was deranged "Friends?" He replied matter of factly. The nonchalant response felt like a dagger to her already battered heart. "Right..." she murmured.

"Well I need to get to sleep,so you can see yourself out." She didn't meet his gaze.

The next day at training she kept catching him staring at her. Quickly looking away when she noticed as he tried to play it off. At lunch Hange asked what's going on between the two and she told them they were just friends. Which makes no sense because later that day Hange told her that he was staring at her with a 'endearing expression' and kept going on about the 'tender look' for the whole evening. This only made her more and more lost at the situation between the two. "Friends don't look at friends that way." Hange smirked at me.

5 days pass by with little to no conversation between the two but they both sneaked longing glances to another without the other noticing-most of the time.

the late hours of the night engulfed her,and a craving of tea with milk and honey made her get up and sneak to the kitchen of the HQ. To her absolute delight (horror) Levi had the same thought. He sat there drinking his black tea in the dim kitchen area.

"Sorry, didn't expect you to be here." She trails off before spinning on her heel to leave, without her tea. "Stay. I don't mind." She stops herself at his words,and cautiously walked towards the small kettle to make her tea.

She sat down with her steamy cup and before realizing that we were out of milk he spoke up. "I'll make sure there's more milk tomorrow." How could he say such sweet things with such a bored look on his face all the time? "Thanks.." she mutters. The small talk was overbearingly awkward-though it seemed that way only to her.

when she went to follow him as he stood to put her cup away the proximity of their faces made it even more awkward. "I..I can take your cup, don't worry." He says softly. She blinks a few times waiting for him to grab the cup from her, but he doesn't.

Time stops as they look into each others eyes and his dark gray eyes flickered to her lips for just a moment but she picked it up. She felt herself moving closer without realizing. Like he was a magnet and she was being pulled in. She looked up at him glancing at his lips as he did the same.

He felt himself begin to lean down to kiss her before he stopped himself, clearing his throat. Backing up he gestured for her to give him the teacup. "Don't want you being whiny at tomorrow's meeting, I'll wash these. You get to bed." He says quietly but back to his usual stoic tone.

"Y-yeah.. goodnight,Levi." She says before practically tripping on her own two feet trying to get back to her room as quick as possible.

"Goodnight, brat."

The next evening she couldn't take it anymore. She raised her hand up to his door and knocked twice. "Yes?" She heard his voice and twisted the handle and rushed into the room closing the door behind her and moving closer towards him.

"I'm fed up! I don't even know if I love or hate you anymore-why did you try kissing me last night? You say we're friends but I catch you looking at me several times a day! friends don't look at friends that way-!" She was out of breath by the time she finished her sentence and she looked at him waiting and preparing for whatever answer he saw fit.

"You don't want to be in a relationship, trust me." Is all he says. Looking back down at the paperwork he was working on. "How do you know what I want? And who are you to decide that for me!" She felt her face get hot.

"You don't understand, you brat-" he sighs. "What don't I know?! I know that I can't stop thinking about you-I know that I wanted you to kiss me last night and practically every other night we spent together-?!" He looks at her with an unreadable expression, one she's never seen on him.

"Im afraid to.. to let myself love you, because then it'll somehow hurt less when you're gone." His voice is barely audible. "I thought If could act cold with you that you'd simply utter 'fuck you' and move on, but I was selfish and couldn't stop myself from looking forward to drinking tea with you or even something as boring as doing paper work. Because it was you. Everything was bearable when I was with you."

She felt her heart beating out of her chest, "I don't want you to shut me out because you are afraid of losing me..I think if we at least try the rewards will be better the risk-because I'm not gonna just walk away and forget you. Even if we spend the rest of our lives only bonding over tea and signing stupid papers I'll do it."

He didn't understand the feelings going through his mind and he definitely didn't understand the feeling in his stomach from her words. "I was stupid thinking pushing you away would be the answer. I'm sorry for being so stubborn and shutting you out,I just didn't want to lose you, even though the fear made me do just that."

He came closer to her his hand cupping her cheek. "I don't want to miss out on a single moment with you, and I'll try..to understand how this stuff works."

She puts her hand on top of his for a moment before interlinking their fingers. "How romantic." She say teasingly rolling her eyes. "Don't be a brat." She slowly presses her lips into his and the kiss was the final confirmation for them both that there truly nothing else they could want in this world.

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A/N okay I wrote this while basically sleeping my eyes are working against me I can't keep them open but I hope you enjoyed. Pretend this is good 😗

Request are open! <3

#captain levi #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x you #levi x reader #snk levi #attack on titan #aot x reader #aot fanfiction #snk x reader #snk #anime x reader

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sterifels-blog · 2 days ago

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warnings ⚠️

•nsfw! 🔞 please do not interact if you are not 18+ ❤️ you are not my responsibility.

creepypasta

REQUESTED: how they'd react if you ask them what their favorite (body) part of you is.

bloody painter

•he would say your hands. he's intrigued by your fingers, as odd as it may seem. not so much the looks of them; but instead the power they wield. "you have such delicate hands for someone so strong... makes me wonder what they could do if they weren't holding a brush." the implication is there— and, it's more of an invitation then a question. he knows what you're capable of- but he thinks he's being smooth about the fact he wants your hand wrapped around his cock.

•soft, but possessive touches: he'll hold your hand in his and trace the lines of your palm with his thumb, enjoying the way your skin feels against his rougher hand. he's not always filthy- infact, he washes his hands more that you're around. he knows you can't stand the feeling of blood smearing all over yours off of his.

•places gentle kisses on your knuckles. he'll press a kiss to your knuckles after you've done something for him, silently showing gratitude in his own way. alternatively; as he's bumping his hips to snap his pelvis tight against your own— more-so panting onto your fingers as he holds them to his parted lips. he's grunting at how good you feel, his brows tight-- and knitted together while placing soft kisses to your fingertips. bro loves you.

•admiring the art of your hands: if you paint (hopefully, with normal supplies), he'll watch you carefully, entranced by the way your fingers move across the canvas. "i like how you create... i like how you touch things."

•okay brother. calm down.

•handcuff scenario: if he's feeling possessive, he might tie your hands just to keep you close, though it's always with a Iight touch, as if savoring the moment. it's that, or he's got you in his lap- your back pressed to his chest as one of his hands keeps your wrists pulled together, and the other is brushing hair out of the way so he can kiss your neck.

•earning affection: "i know these hands could do so much more, if i let you." a quiet invitation to explore.

clockwork

•she'd say your eyes. clockwork has a dark fascination with them, and she isnt shy about making that clear: "your eyes... they've seen more than i can imagine, and yet they still hold something innocent about them." she has no issue with tainting that innocence- although she chooses to cherish it for herself, opting to keep your mind safe and away from others. your eyes only on her.

•intense gaze: she'll lock her eyes on yours, not breaking contact, as if studying you. it's like she's searching for something deep within, and it makes you feel exposed, yet strangely desired. she'll be kissing from your sternum down to your pelvis, her nails dragging along your bare sides as she relishes in the feeling of your fluttering skin against her lips.

•her lip gloss paints your stomach in a shimmery raspberry hue as she kisses your skin, her thumbs digging into your hips as they massage in slow circles.

•she's huge on teasing: "i could lose myself in them, but you'd never let me. you'd just pull away, wouldn't you?" she won't give you much of an option to pull away. she'll have you on your knees in front of her, her hand cupped under your chin as she admires the tremble of excitement that rushes down your spine.

•gentle, longing touches. she gently cups your face, forcing you to keep eye contact "i could make you see things- things you don't want to. but... you trust me, don't you?"

•when you inevitably agree with her— saying that you do trust her, her hands are parting your thighs, shamelessly sighing as her tongue traces lazy drags against your clit and labia. (she's definitely the type to write her name with her tongue, over and over until you're whining for her to do something other than tease. you're not talking at all after that)

•behind-the-scenes power: "if you look away, i'Il only make it worse. keep looking... you're mine, aren't you?"

eyeless jack

•thoughtful to say your throat. jack has an intense interest with your neck/throat. he can't stop staring at your throat, where he knows your pulse beats, so close to the surface- so easy to cut off if he so much as squeezed you hard enough. if he so much as twisted your head quick enough to cause dissection. not that he ever would- no, no. such horrific things are only reserved for his victims- but his medical knowledge often gets the better of him when intimate with your body.

•gentle but dangerous touch. he'll graze his fingers lightly along the curve of your throat, his thumb brushing the side of your neck as though testing your response. he'll hum— his nail digging softly into the prominent vein on the side of your neck, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against it as though smelling the metallic flow from the outer-shell of your skin. he doesn’t say anything, but the way his hand squeezes is word enough. jack loves you, he's made it clear over and over again- but often, he still finds it necessary to remind you that you both are different. un-alike.

•dangerous affection: "i know the veins here so well... it's almost like could just.." he might trail his fingers over your throat, his mind going to darker places as he tightens the grip he has on you to just beneath your chin, tilting your head back with a little groan into your ear. he brushes your baby hairs away from the base of your neck, leaning in to place a kiss against the base of your skull, panting with hearty breaths whilst his hips rut slow, sloppy grinds against the cheeks of your ass.

•alternatively, he’s got your legs kicked apart, his own feet placed between yours as to ensure that you don't try and squeeze them shut. pinned to him, your back against his chest— jack doesn't let you loose as his fingers swirled wide circles around your clit. his teeth graze at your ear, murmuring quietly about how easy you were for him. predictable. and you were.

•teasing whispers: he'll lean close to your ear and murmur, "your pulse is fast... what's got you worked up? it's just me.."

•holds your throat while he's fucking into you from behind.

hoodie

•your ass. zero shame, zero hesitation: hoodie doesn't even try to hide it, "you've got the best ass i've ever seen. why wouldn't i look? you should be flattered."

•he's hands-on at all times. whenever you walk past him, his hand is right there. sometimes, he gives it a playful squeeze, other times a sharp smack that makes you jump. "what? you're the one who walked by me like that."

•you, in fact, didn't even walk by. he's the one who walked by you. too many times, will you give him silence in return for his tomassery– and each time, he does the same thing. he'll come up behind you, apologetically (🤥) sliding his hands down your waist to cup your ass as he presses a kiss to the back of your neck. "you know i'm just teasing.."

•favorite pose? you straddling his lap. he loves when you sit on him, especially facing away so he can rest his hands on your hips— or further down. "you're making it really hard to focus, you know. not that i'm complaining.."

•and he isn't complaining, especially when he’s able to bend you over the counter later that night, groaning and grunting as he 'thanks' you for the meal you'd cooked for him after a long mission assigned by the operator. he's tired, sure; but he always has some extra stamina stored away for times like this. seeing your ass bounce on his hips as his dick bullies against your g-spot is worth every bit of energy he has left.

•constant touching: if you're lying on your stomach, he's lying next to you, his hand lazily draped over your lower back and sliding lower.

•pulling you closer: if you're standing in front of him, he'll wrap an arm around your waist and pull you back against him, hands wandering. "c'mere. you're too far away. yeah, that's better."

jason the toymaker

•your hands

•craftsman’s admiration: “your hands... so delicate, yet so full of life. they could create so much beauty... if i allowed you.” his voice carries both fascination and a subtle possessiveness, enjoying how wrapped around his fingers you were. the innuendo is there, integrated in his words. why would you need to touch yourself when he was there to do all you wished for you?

•very gentle with his touches. he loves to take your hands in his, running his fingers over the smooth skin, almost as if memorizing every line and curve. the type of guy to intertwine your fingers with his own as he keeps your wrists pinned to the bed— huffing against your neck with steady, deep thrusts. loves kissing behind your ear, grumbling about how good you take him- make him feel.

•kisses to your palms. jason has a habit of turning your hand over and pressing slow, deliberate kisses to your palm. “such beautiful hands… wasted on anything but me.” definitely prompts you into giving him a hand job, obsessive over the way your fingers feel curled around him. he thoroughly can't get enough of you, and arm wrapped lazily around your waist as he sits you in his lap for a slow makeout.

•mild.. obsession: he’ll watch you when you’re doing anything with your hands—writing, sketching, even cooking. “it’s mesmerizing, really. i could watch you all day.”

•into playful (but freaky ass) control. jason likes to guide your hands when you’re working on something, his larger hands enveloping yours. “here, let me show you how to do it properly. not that you’re bad at it… i'm just better.” this applies to the bedroom, where he's guiding your hand; curling your fingers only when he allows you to.

•possessive comments: “these hands belong to me, no? no one else gets to feel them, hold them, or be touched by them.”

jeff the killer

•dangerous attraction to your thighs: "your thighs... they look so soft. i bet they'd feel even better wrapped around me." and they do— whether they are clung at the sides of his head, or straddling his hips as he helps you ride him after a particularly high stress day. he loves them more than anything else in the world.

•gentle possessiveness.. he'll casually run his hands over your thighs, his fingers lingering just a little too long as if marking territory. does it especially when you are all sitting in a group. if given the opportunity, he'll have you tucked between him and the arm of the couch, your legs slung over his own so his hand can rub up and down yours.

•plenty of flirtatious teasing: "how tight do you think those legs could squeeze, huh? show me, and i'II make it worth your while."

•when you go about showing him- he makes it a point to keep you at his disposal until you're too satisfied to complain about anything. his tongue is useful for talking— but it is just as skillful when it's dipped between your thighs, running between your folds until you're squeezing his head so tight, he was sure his skull would crack.

•loves giving you kisses to the inner thigh. on a whim, he might press a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, just to feel the warmth of your skin. after a particularly strenuous night of.. events, it's a subtle gesture of appreciation

•"i can't help it. your thighs are just... perfect. i think i could spend all day here, don't you?"

•mock care: if he's feeling particularly mischievous, he'll gently squeeze them and say, "relax. i'Il be gentle. for now."

jane the killer

•playfully seductive: "these hips of yours.. i could write a book about how perfect they are." she smirks as her hands glide along them, leaving goosebumps in her wake. by far, they are the most favorable thing on your body in her eyes- apart from the obvious sentiment of your breasts. she thinks the proportions of them match you perfectly.

•possessive hold. jane has a habit of gripping your hips firmly, puling you closer until there's no space between you- mainly around the others of the household. there is no denying that you're hers- but it is still in her nature to be competitive over that fact, especially with her other-sex counterpart being present. "you feel so good against me. don't think i'Il let go anytime soon."

•slow in admiration. her fingers trace the curve of your hips, almost reverently. "every inch of you is stunning, but this.. this drives me insane." you're hovered over her- sweat dripping down your spine and dampening the roots of your hair as her hands guide you in a rocking motion. they are clasped tightly to your hips, nails, digging into your flesh as she encourages you to tuck in your core. she doesn't mind doing the messy work of bouncing you on her strap, so long as numbs you into that blissful state.

•dually stimulates your clit just to see them buck.

•sultry whispers while standing behind you. she'll lean in, lips brushing against your ear as her sleek nails tickled your hips with repetitive strokes. "these hips were made for my hands, don’t you think? hm?"

•when things heat up, her focus always finds its way to your hips, her kisses trailing along the curves as her grip tightens. "you have no idea what you do to me." jane's eyes linger on your hips like they're the most captivating thing in the world.

kagekao

•your mouth and messy kisses. kagekao loves kissing you- rough, messy, and without warning. he thrives on the way he can leave you breathless and completely flustered. it comes of good use when you two are arguing. you'd been rambling about something- not that he was listening; but he captured the gist of you bitching about how he was leaving the house a mess. guilty— of course he was; but he wasn't going to acknowledge it. "can't talk now, can you?"

•shutting you up: secondary to a kiss, if you're rambling or talking back, he'll cut you off with a hand against your mouth; putting you into momentary silence. it is only when his hand moves to tug at the buckle of his belt do you understand where he is truly going with it. your mouth, around him- is as good as it is while talking. as skillful as your insults- just more quiet apart from the occasional gag to fuel his ego.

•playfully dominant. he's a master of teasing you into silence, brushing his thumb over your lips and smirking. "these lips of yours are dangerous... but i like the way they feel under mine." he's cheesy because he knows it gets you going. you'll cuss him out, commencing a back-and-forth between the two of you. and as much as he enjoys shutting you up— it is, unfortunately, your 'arguments' that get him swollen and tight in his slacks.

•messy control: if you're mid-argument, he'll pin you against a wall and kiss you hard enough to stop the words from coming. "i don't care what you were going to say." he's a bit of an asshole— and when it comes to an actual confliction, you're often pushing him away as to voice your opinion.

•obsession with your voice: he's addicted to the way your lips move when you talk (+ the sound of it), and he often stares shamelessly. "keep talking- let me watch those pretty lips of yours."

•if it's been a while since he's last seen you; and you have the chance to speak to him over the phone, he's 100% not opposed to rubbing one out with you on the line. he'll go silent, listening to you ramble on about something that seems insignificant compared to the raging throb of his erection. mindlessly hums in agreement to something he shouldn't have— and gets startled when you begin scolding him over the phone.

laughing jack

•jack has a shameless fixation on your legs, especially if you're blessed with some extra height. "your legs just go on forever, don't they? makes me want to see how far they can wrap around me." his words are said with a wicked grin, no shame in his tone. if you're smaller, no worries about it— he's still intrigued about how many positions he can wrangle you into, especially with your smaller size being an accommodation.

•loves, loves, loves having you up against the wall. it's not the most practical position- but he has the strength to pull it off. at no point in time will your feet be touching the ground. your legs are slung over his hips, and mercilessly, jack is giving you no time between breaths as he fucks in and out of you. he'd been worked up over a dress you'd worn out with jane; the gap of time from which you returned— to then being railed furiously almost nonexistent.

•the stupid cunt is constant teasing: he'll comment on how your legs look in any outfit especially if they're bare. "oh, you're just showing them off today, aren't you? that's just cruel." he especially loves seeing you in skirts or short dresses. a tight pair of pants will still do justice- outlining your figure, but seeing your skin is an entirely different experience for him.

•obsessive attention. runs his hands along your thighs and calves, almost like he's worshiping them, while making playful, almost mocking comments. "so soft.. are you sure you're strong enough to be here?" he knows you are, he has no sincere doubts that you've earned your place amongst the bunch; but it intrigues him how someone as hard working as yourself could have any aspect of a gentle physic leftover.

•payful biting: he'll nip at your legs from your calvee to your thighs, just to watch you squirm. "what? can't handle a little attention?"

•restless fascination: loves having his head in your lap, running his hands up and down your legs, letting out an exaggerated sigh. "how am i supposed to behave with these perfect legs right in front of me?"

•a good smack to the head will do it.

masky

•masky has an obvious fixation on your breasts. he won't even try to hide it. when you're in close quarters, his eyes are always drawn to your chest, and he'll casually glance at them before meeting your eyes, smirking. "could you be any less distracting?"

•shameless touching: he's the type to casually rest his hand on your chest when in private, grinning like it's the most natural thing in the world. if you're not paying attention, he'll give them a slight squeeze and say, "couldn't resist, sorry." which, is a lie. he's fully capable of resisting- but with you, he doesn't care much to.

•throughly enjoys having you ride him. if not only to see the way your face twists up in pleasure; then, to see the way your breasts bounce with each desperate thrust you chase after.

•loves seeing you in workout clothes— especially something like a workout bra that cups your breasts exceptionally. he'll come up behind you, hands wandering from your sides, and against your ribs to your breasts, his fingers fondling with the under-band of your bra appreciatively. places soft kisses on the back of your neck, humming in approval as he relishes in the sight of his palms engulfing your chest in the gym mirror.

•unapologetic flirting: "look real fucking good in that top. deserve some attention, don't you think?" he'll lean in close, just to make it clear that he's very aware of what he's doing- not that you had any doubts.

•although secondary pleasure wasn't normally accommodated on his schedule (nor does he have a high drive for it)– when you gave him a tit job for the first time; he swore he was knocking on heavens door. he could hardly keep himself from giving in too early- grunting and huffing as he dragged on his cigarette, prolonging his climax for as long as he could. cusses the entire time, groaning about how good you were.

•proximity: when he sleeps, he'll have his face tucked against your collarbone, his arms wrapped around you as his nose divets to your sternum.

slenderman

•control obsession: he’s drawn to your wrists, knowing just how delicate they are and how easily he can take control. he loves— and definitely gets off on the feeling of holding them tightly, guiding you however he sees fit. “your wrists are so fragile... better reason for you to listen"

•possessive in his grip. slenderman will sometimes just stand behind you, his long fingers brushing your wrists in a possessive, almost ritualistic manner, ensuring you feel his presence without him saying a word. he might even trace your veins as if marking them as his own— otherwise, silently reminding you of your merciless place beneath him.

•soft yet firm restraint. if you’re not paying attention, he’ll slip his tendril around your wrists with a cold, firm grip, keeping you in place. his touch is both controlling and almost comforting, as if trying to stake a claim over you that is inevitable. keeps you from moving too much, because it “makes it easier to work with you.”

•tying you up: there’s something about restraining you with ropes or simple threads that bores him. he's more into using his tentacles— wrapping them around your wrists slowly, ensuring it’s just tight enough to restrict movement. it’s a methodical and precise act. “you’ll stay still. you can handle this, can you not?"

•borderline sadistic during intercourse with you. overstimulation is a guarantee— his tentacles cuffing your wrists together as you squirm on the silk of his bedding. relentless. your breaths heave in desperation as his thumb circled your clit for what felt like hellish hours on end, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes that he brushes away with little care- only after they'd began to trail down your cheeks.

•fingers that linger: when he’s guiding you through a task, his fingers press against the soft skin of your wrist, sending shivers up your spine. it’s a constant reminder of his dominance and the way he can bend you to his will with little effort. sits you between his legs and has you ride his fingers, kissing the flat surface of your inner wrist.

•silent manipulation: whether you’re walking or sitting, his hands will often find their way to your wrists. the way his fingers curl around them feels almost hypnotic, leaving you unsure if it’s affection or an underlying threat.

ticci toby

•possessive grip: toby's hands will find their way to your chest, casually gripping them as if it's the most casual thing in the world. he's not gentle, but not rough either— just firm enough to feel like he's marking his territory. "i like having you close. ganz in der nähe" the words may seem innocent enough, but they are the furthest thing from it.

•soft, but intense. if you're in his arms, he'll keep you pressed against him, his hands roaming under your clothes to gently feel and play with you. his breaths hitch as he does, clearly enjoying the closeness more than anything. not being able to feel much- it's intriguing for him to see how you react to something he assumed would feel so insignificant.

•when he figured out you enjoy it- quite a bit, he'll find himself stroking your ribs more often, tracing over your collarbone.

•huffs of approval: when he feels the soft weight of your breasts in his hands, you'll hear him let out a pleased sigh, followed by a low chuckle. "you can't help making these noises when i touch you, hm?" he enjoys them, thoroughly. in fact, it's something he favors, doing whatever he can to pry the sweet sounds from your lips.

•missionary— classical. he's got your back pinned to the bed, one arm wrapped around your spine as he lay a series of open-mouthed kisses to your throat, trailing down to find one of the pebbled nipples of your breasts. the sound of your breathy moan is almost enough to make him brick up again, a low groan leaving his throat as his lips engulfed your tit with gluttony. he could worship you like this for hours- but not without his own share of enjoyment.

•light teasing: if you react to him touching you, even just a little, his grin widens. "i know you like it. you don't need to hide it." he'll lean in close, letting his breath ghost over your neck. there's nothing he enjoys more than getting a reaction out of you— and it severely agitates him when you silence yourself.

•insecure softness: as unhinged as he may seem, he can get a little soft about it, too. "i just... i need you close, okay? don't push me away." he's not one to beg, but there's something desperate in his voice when he holds you like this. loves having you against his chest, feeling your bare skin pressed against his own.

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