#Test muse: Velvet

[talesofourworlds]

@thosetaleskids liked for a test muse starter (Velvet!)

The group ultimately had agreed to remain in the area around Merchio to train. Get some last minute additional strength before going to make the journey to try and put an end to things with Artorius and Innominat. The Lord of Calamity couldn't afford to look weak when she went to end the precious Shepherd once and for all.

It took some searching around the snows of Merchio, and much complaining from Magilou the whole while, but eventually they found something. Velvet led the charge against a particularly strong looking daemon. Rokurou sounded convinced it was a code red daemon, and with how strong it looked? She wouldn't have been surprised at all if it was. The thing looked like a weird cluster of crystals. Surely it couldn't have been that sturdy, Velvet thought as she'd lashed out with a Rising Falcon, but when her arte connected it felt like the arte didn't even connect the way she thought it would.

Golden eyes grew wide. What the hell was this thing made of? Velvet could only say in the air so long before having to land, and she landed right at the wrong time. The daemon launched its attack, some kind of blast of energy, that knocked her back where she'd come from. Pain coursed through the therion woman's body and, despite her efforts to keep from doing so, a cry escaped her as she landed in the snow. She lifted her head to see the others trying to land hits on the thing, too. Everything seemed to just bounce right off of it. Was it taking any damage at all?

"Dammit, this isn't working!" Eizen's voice rose over the others. "We can't win this, Velvet!"

Velvet grit her teeth. Phi... where was Phi? She didn't immediately see him, but she hoped he had the sense to stay back and cast his artes from a safe distance. Rokurou seemed to be suffering the same fate as she had moments before. Magilou also was met with a blast, interrupting her attempted Final Embrace, and Eleanor? No better off than Rokurou.

"Dammit!" Velvet grit her teeth and forced herself to stand. Rokurou wasn't going to like this, but... what choice did they have? They were going to get wiped out if they kept trying to fight this thing. "Retreat for-"

Another blast struck Velvet from behind. Again, she couldn't stop herself from giving in to the pain. The idle thought floated through her mind as she was knocked into the snow again. How nice would it have been if what she'd lost when she became a therion was her ability to feel pain?

Oh well. No sense in thinking about it when she was laying there, grimacing and trying to force herself to stand again. She felt like she had to struggle just to do that much. Still, Velvet had to make herself speak. If the others could get away, that was good enough. She'd figure something out.

"Run!" Velvet finally yelled the order. Magilou already was doing so, only glancing back for a moment before doing so. Eleanor was next, and she saw Eizen dragging Rokurou away. Phi...

Finally, she saw him.

"Phi, run! I'll catch up!" Somehow. Forget the pain and move. That was what she was trying to make herself do. So why was it so damn hard to move? Had that daemon paralyzed her with that arte?

[empirelead]

Kuvira DIDN'T LOOK BACK when Zaofu finally disappeared from view , hidden from the world ; hiding away behind large mountains that stood above all those who came crossing the land. The city finally furled to once more to cower from what she now sees as the truth —— the Earth Kingdom is in dire trouble and the only person who could lead its children has betrayed them all. The bitter taste on the very tip of her tongue was foul , swallowing down the lump that formed in her throat before she could ever allow her emotions to get the best of her. IT IS WHAT SUYIN WOULD WANT , to have her feel the tinge of regret of leaving of the only place that has welcomed her ( the very place that has now banished her ) but she will not falter and will not fall. The anger burned deep within her chest , thankful that the others were all wise enough to leave her be. She will return one day and will make sure Suyin regrets of crossing her.

[d-z20]

Sharing is Caring (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness (Agnes O'Connor) x Reader

Summary: You're making breakfast, wearing Agnes' flannel and boxers, your body still aching from the night before. However when she enters—completely bare and unapologetic—it sparks a teasing exchange about your skill at ruining underwear that quickly turns into something far more heated.

- OR -

A little teasing over breakfast turns into a masterclass in why you should never test a butch with a mean streak and a firm grip. By the end, breakfast is cold, you are wrecked, and Agnes is feeling very smug about it.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, butch Agnes/Agatha, top Agatha, Daddy pet name, edging, brat/dom themes, use of 'good girl', thigh grinding/humping, smidge of degradation, choking, light (makeshift) bondage, fingering, unprompted pleading

Words: 2.9k

A/N: This fic is the result of a request based on my conversations with an anon

AO3 | Masterlist

You’re humming to yourself happily, swaying slightly in front of the stove as you make breakfast. Your muscles ache in the best way, a reminder of the woman who wrecked you in the sheets—and against the wall, and on the couch—before finally collapsing in your bed.

Now, Agnes’ flannel hangs loose over your shoulders, just reaching the top of your thighs, and her boxers sit snugly on your hips. A rustle from behind makes you glance over your shoulder, and you nearly drop the spatula at the sight before you.

Agnes O’Connor stands in the doorway, all sleepy eyes and tousled dark hair, completely and utterly naked.

Your gaze drags over her, drinking in the sharp angles of her cheekbones, the veins in her slender hands, the way the morning light catches the curve of her waist and the hard planes of her stomach. There’s something undeniably sexy about the way she stands—relaxed, utterly unbothered, owning the space like she was made to fill it.

“No clothes, detective? How scandalous.”

Agnes smirks, unruffled, and gestures toward you. “My clothes are already in use, it seems.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, but you force yourself to maintain composure. “You could’ve worn my underwear,” you smirk.

Agnes scoffs and steps forward, her movements almost predatory. "No, I couldn’t.”

“Why not?”

She closes the space between you with slow, measured steps, all raw confidence and effortless strength. The counter digs into your lower back as she crowds you in, her shoulders squared, her body solid and imposing in the best way. Her lips ghost over your ear as she whispers, “Because you ruined them last night.”

One of her hands slides down, cupping your crotch through her boxers, squeezing just enough to make you gasp. “And I bet you’re ruining these right now, aren’t you?” A whimper catches in your throat, your hips jerking slightly into her touch.

Your mouth opens, but nothing comes out except a hitched breath.

Agnes chuckles, giving you one last squeeze before pulling away, hands bracketing you against the counter. The warmth of her palm lingers, making your knees weak. But you, ever the little menace, won’t let her win so easily.

“Oh, how tragic,” you sigh dramatically, tapping a finger against your chin. “My poor, poor panties, ruined beyond repair.”

Agnes watches you through hooded eyes, unimpressed. “Such a shame,” she muses dryly.

You tilt your head, biting back a smirk. “I guess that means you’ll just have to keep me out of them.”

Agnes exhales sharply through her nose, dark amusement flickering across her face. “Is that right?”

“Mm.” You hum, pretending to consider. “Or, you know, replace them. I’ve always liked lace.”

Agnes’ lips quirk upward, though she says nothing, letting the silence stretch between you. Then, she takes another step forward, pressing into you just enough for you to feel the heat of her bare skin against your front.

“You can be as bratty as you like, darling,” she says, voice like velvet, “you’re just digging your own grave.”

You flash her a sly grin, eyes gleaming. “While digging my grave sounds tempting, there’s something else I’d rather be digging into.”

Agnes arches a brow, fingers brushing over your cheek while her other hand rests possessively on your hip. “Oh yeah? And what’s that, sweetheart?”

You twist at the last second, spinning out of her grasp, and turn back around to grab the two plates you’ve just finished preparing. Flashing her an infuriating grin over your shoulder, you say, “Digging into breakfast, of course! I don’t know about you, but I really worked up an appetite last night.”

You turn fully, plates in hand, just in time to catch the way Agnes bites her lip, nostrils flaring slightly as her gaze darkens.

Then, tilting your head with faux innocence, you decide to push your luck. “What were you thinking, hmm, Daddy?” The last word is a sultry whisper, teasing and utterly sinful.

Agnes runs a hand down her face before shaking her head with a chuckle. “You are going to be the death of me.”

“Well, at least you’ll die happy.”

You reach to set the plates down, but before you can step away, Agnes closes the distance. The warmth of her skin contrasts sharply with the cool air, a stark reminder that she’s still completely bare while you remain wrapped in her borrowed clothes. You barely have time to take a breath before her hands cage you in against the counter again.

Her fingers trail lightly up your arm before settling at your throat, thumb pressing just enough to make you swallow hard. The air between you crackles with electricity, your pulse hammering under her grip.

"You just don’t know when to quit, do you?" Her voice is low, dark, threaded with amusement and something even more dangerous.

You smirk, despite the way your breath catches. "And what if I don’t?"

Agnes chuckles, the sound vibrating through her chest as she leans in, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. "Then I guess I’ll have to teach you some manners."

Her other hand snakes down your side, dragging over your waist before gripping your hip with purpose. You shiver at the barely restrained strength in her touch, your body already betraying you, pressing closer, seeking more.

"You were so good for me last night," she muses, her thumb stroking absentmindedly at your throat, keeping you right where she wants you. "But now? Now, you’re just begging for trouble, sweetheart."

Your breath hitches as she presses her hips against you, pinning you between her and the counter. "Maybe I like trouble," you whisper, letting the words drip from your tongue like honey.

Agnes tsks, shaking her head with mock disappointment. "Good, because that mouth of yours is going to get you in so much of it, darling."

With a firm grip, Agnes spins you with practiced ease, your back arching as your chest meets the cool countertop. A shiver runs down your spine at the contrast of heat and chill, Agnes pressing close behind you, naked body boxing you in. Her palm flattens between your shoulder blades, keeping you in place, while her other hand trails down your stomach, teasing at the waistband of your borrowed boxers.

"You know," she says, voice velvety smooth, "I should make you finish breakfast first. Let you sit with that ache; let you sit in the evidence of how badly you need me."

You whimper, hips shifting instinctively, seeking relief, but Agnes is quicker. She grips your hip firmly, holding you still. "Oh, no. You wanted to be a brat. Now you’re going to wait."

Her words are a promise, a challenge, and a punishment all wrapped into one. You pant softly, already feeling the frustration coil in your stomach. Agnes chuckles darkly, pressing a teasing kiss to the back of your neck.

"You’ll take it," she breathes, "because deep down, you want to be a good girl, don’t you? Hmm? Be my good girl?"

Your nails dig into the countertop, your resolve wavering as heat pools low in your stomach. Agnes presses another kiss to your shoulder, her voice nothing but sinful satisfaction.

"And when I finally let you have what you want... you’re going to thank me for it."

Agnes’ hand is still firm on your back, keeping you pressed against the counter. The heat of her body is maddening, so close yet just out of reach. "Already so pliant. I could just ruin you right here, couldn’t I?"

You bite back a whimper, shifting slightly, trying to push back against her, but she tightens her grip. "Ah, ah," she tuts, "don’t be greedy."

Her fingers ghost along the waistband of her boxers, teasing at the elastic before pulling them down just enough to expose you. The cool air makes you shiver, anticipation crackling through your body like a live wire.

Agnes hums, dragging a single finger down your inner thigh, featherlight, just enough to make you squirm. "You’re already making such a mess," she chuckles, her voice thick with amusement. "You really are going to ruin these, aren’t you?"

A whimper escapes you before you can stop it, and Agnes chuckles again, pressing a kiss just behind your ear. “I knew it.”

Her hand slips between your thighs, but she barely gives you more than a teasing stroke before pulling away entirely. The loss makes you whine, but before you can protest further, she’s gripping your wrists, bringing them behind your back.

"You need a reminder of who's in charge, sweetheart," she purrs, pulling at the flannel draped over your shoulders. She tugs the sleeves down, letting them slip past your arms, exposing more of your chest in the process.

She takes the ends of the sleeves and ties them together, trapping your hands inside the soft fabric. A little gasp leaves your lips as you instinctively test the restraint, the material keeping your arms firmly pinned behind you.

The realisation sends a shiver down your spine. You’re completely at her mercy.

"Much better," Agnes hums, pulling the boxers back into place. She steps back just enough to admire her work.

Her fingers return, tracing slow, deliberate patterns over your sensitive skin, never quite where you need her most. You try to shift, to move against her touch, but the way she has you pinned leaves you helpless.

"Patience," she coos, pressing a kiss to your shoulder as her fingers dance lower, teasing but never giving in fully. "A brat like you doesn’t get rewarded so easily."

Your hips jerk, a frustrated sound leaving your lips, but Agnes only chuckles, utterly unbothered. She handles you like it’s second nature, her grip firm but controlled. One strong arm hooks around your waist, lifting just enough to guide you where she wants—an easy display of strength that leaves no room for argument.

Agnes keeps her grip firm, guiding you away from the counter with slow, deliberate steps. She sits first, legs spread wide, before pulling you down to straddle one of her legs, her hands anchoring you in place.

"There we go," she chides, her hands sliding down your sides before firmly gripping your hips. She pulls you down, guiding your movements until your clothed core is flush against the firm muscle of her thigh.

The moment you make contact, a sharp gasp catches in your throat. The fabric of the boxers is soaked through and clinging against your sensitive skin. Worse still, the cool morning air has chilled the wet fabric, sending a shudder through you as the contrast of temperature heightens every sensation. 

"Go on, sweetheart," Agnes murmurs, her voice low, coaxing. "Be a good girl and hump Daddy’s thigh."

Heat pools in your stomach at her words, your head dipping forward as you grind down against her, chasing that intoxicating sensation. Each shift and drag of your hips spreads the dampness further, a messy, undeniable evidence of your need.

The realisation makes your breath hitch—Agnes can feel it. She can feel how wrecked you already are, the soaked fabric leaving wet streaks against the hard muscle of her thigh.

A breathy moan escapes you, and Agnes hums in approval, tilting her head to press open-mouthed kisses along your neck. She moves down, her lips ghosting over your collarbone, her tongue flicking out to taste the newly exposed skin.

"You sound so pretty like this," she groans, her hands tightening on your hips, guiding your movements. "Getting yourself off on my thigh like a desperate little thing."

Agnes' fingers trail deliberately up your chest, calloused and warm, before wrapping around your throat. Her thumb presses just below your jaw, feeling your pulse stutter. She smirks against your ear as you swallow hard, breath coming in shallow, needy gasps. Your whole body trembles as you keen against her; the combination of her grip, her touch, and her voice is dizzying.

"Such a messy girl," Agnes teases, tilting her head back to meet your gaze. "I knew you would wreck my boxers."

Heat floods your cheeks at her words, but it only makes the ache between your legs worse. You let out another whimper, trying to chase more friction, but Agnes’ hand suddenly squeezes harder around your throat, making your head spin.

“Ah, ah,” she tuts, tightening her hold slightly, her thumb stroking over your jaw. “You take what Daddy gives you, understood?”

You nod frantically, barely able to breathe past the desire knotting in your stomach. “Y-Yes, Daddy, please—”

A sharp squeeze makes you gasp, your thighs trembling around her. “Such a good girl when you beg,” her voice is dripping with amusement. “Go on, then. Prove to me how much you want it.”

She releases your throat just enough to let you gulp in a shaky breath, and with her other hand still guiding you, you begin to move faster, grinding down harder against her thigh. The pleasure is dizzying, each motion sending sparks through your body, winding you tighter and tighter.

Agnes leans back slightly, her darkened eyes hooded, drinking in every tremble like it’s her favourite sight. A smirk tugs at her lips as she watches you fall apart, slow and sweet, entirely under her control. Her lips find your chest again, pressing open-mouthed kisses over the exposed skin, her tongue flicking out to tease you between nips and sucks. The mix of sensations has you trembling in her grasp, your moans growing more desperate.

“Daddy,” you cry out, back arching, head falling against her shoulder. “Please—please, I need—”

She hushes you, kissing along your jaw, her fingers tightening on your hips as she moves you just right. “I know, sweetheart. You’re so close, aren’t you?”

You nod desperately, hips jerking against her thigh, barely able to hold yourself together. The tension coils unbearably tight, your muscles trembling with the effort to keep from falling over the edge. But Agnes isn’t done with you yet.

At the last second, she stops moving you, holding you still. The sudden lack of friction makes you cry out in frustration, a desperate whimper spilling from your lips. “No—Daddy, please—”

She hums, stroking your cheek with mock sympathy. “Such a needy little thing.” Her grip on your hips tightens, keeping you in place despite your squirming. “You really want to cum, don’t you?”

A whimper is all you can manage, your hips trying to move again as you try and hold onto the pleasure.

"Come on, baby, use your words," she commands, her grip tightening slightly around your throat.

"Y-yes, Daddy," you gasp. "M’sorry—just feels so good."

Agnes lets out a low, approving hum, her free hand slipping between your legs, pressing against the damp fabric of her boxers.

"Poor thing," she croons, her fingers teasing over the soaked material. "I bet you’re just aching for me to take care of you, aren’t you?"

You nod desperately, biting your lip. "Please, Daddy—"

She doesn’t make you beg any further.

With one swift motion, she pushes her hand into the boxers, her fingers dipping past your folds. The sudden contact makes you jolt, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as she finds exactly where you need her.

"That’s it." Her fingers move with practiced ease, circling and teasing before pressing in, stretching you deliciously. Your whole body tenses, the pleasure hitting you like a tidal wave.

Her hand stays firm around your throat, grounding you, keeping you exactly where she wants you.

"You’re taking me so well," she praises, her lips brushing against your ear. "Such a good girl when you want to be."

The words send another spark of arousal through you, your walls clenching around her fingers as she works you open. The heat in your stomach is unbearable now, winding tighter and tighter, teetering on the edge of oblivion.

"Daddy," you whimper, "I—I’m gonna—"

"You can cum, sweetheart," Agnes urges, her pace quickening, her thigh flexing beneath you. "Let me feel you cum on my fingers."

With a sharp cry, you climax, pleasure surging through you as your body tenses, then melts into her. Agnes keeps moving through it, drawing out every last tremor, her grip on your throat still firm.

By the time you slump against her, utterly spent, Agnes is chuckling, her fingers stroking lazily over your back.

"That’s my good girl," she reassures, kissing the top of your head while untying the makeshift restraints.

A quiet, exhausted mumble escapes you, barely more than a breath against her skin. "Th-Thank you, Agnes..." Your voice is soft, uneven, and slightly slurred from exhaustion, your words melting into her warmth.

She smiles, tightening her hold on you for a moment before smoothing a hand down your back. "You did so well for me. Maybe next time, you shouldn’t make it so hard for yourself."

Agnes shifts slightly, and you barely register the movement until you feel her fingers wiping themselves clean on the damp fabric of her boxers. She clicks her tongue, amusement lacing her tone as she glances down. "Well, these are well and truly ruined," the smirk is audible in her voice. "You really did a number on them, sweetheart."

You hum contentedly, nuzzling against her, your body still heavy with the aftershocks. Despite everything, you can’t help the small, breathless giggle that escapes you. "Worth it," you mumble against her collarbone.

Agnes laughs, shaking her head as she presses a final kiss to your forehead. "You’re going to be the death of me, sweetheart."

You grin, utterly blissed out, as you murmur, "At least you’ll die happy."

-----

The baggy flannel & boxers combo is impeccable and I am speaking from experience.🍑anon, my darling, I hope this was everything you wanted :D

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taglist: @aceday @danveration @alwaysharmony @idkwhatever580 @lostbutlovely33 @sweetmidnights @6ange19 @jujuu23 @juls-stark

[heeluvv]

𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐎𝐍-𝐎𝐍𝐄 ᯓ★

pairing 𖤝 idol! nishimura riki x fan! reader

genre 𖤝 smut

warnings 𖤝 p in v, unprotected sex, make-out sesh (idk honestly), etc.

natty's notes 𖤝 mdni, hate comments will be deleted. (it's pretty long)

the soft hum of fluorescent lights filled the air as you sat in the dimly lit private lounge, heart pounding in anticipation. you were the lucky fan who had won an exclusive one-on-one meeting with niki, the enigmatic maknae of enhypen, and the reality of it felt surreal.

your fingers clutched at the hem of your skirt as the door creaked open. then, he was there.

ni-ki stepped inside with the kind of effortless confidence that sent shivers down your spine. he was taller than you imagined, dressed in all black, his sharp gaze locking onto yours instantly. he took his time shutting the door, fingers lingering on the handle before he turned back to you, a smirk curling on his lips. he didn’t speak right away—he just stared, assessing, his dark eyes scanning your expression, your posture, your hands twisting in your lap.

“you look nervous,” he finally murmured, voice deep and laced with something unreadable.

you swallowed hard. “i-i guess it’s just… overwhelming.”

he chuckled, slow and rich. “you don’t have to be so tense.” he moved forward, measured and deliberate, his hands slipping into his pockets as he closed the distance between you. “you’re the one who wanted this.”

your breath hitched. his words hung between you, heavy with implication. you had wanted this. you had spent countless nights imagining what it would be like to be this close to him, and now that he was standing in front of you—so real, so impossibly magnetic—it was nearly too much.

he sat beside you on the plush leather couch, his body sinking into the space next to yours, close but not quite touching. yet you could feel the heat radiating off him, the scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a trap. your fingers curled into the fabric of your skirt as he turned slightly, propping an elbow on the back of the couch, his gaze never leaving your face.

“how long have you been a fan?” he asked, voice smooth, inviting.

you struggled to find words, your throat suddenly dry. “since debut.”

he hummed in acknowledgment, studying you with quiet amusement. “so you’ve been watching me for a while.”

the air between you thickened. you nodded, pulse hammering against your ribs. “yes.”

his tongue darted out to wet his lips, slow and deliberate, as if he knew exactly what effect he was having on you. “tell me,” he mused, his voice barely above a whisper. “what’s your favorite thing about me?”

your stomach twisted. he was teasing you, testing you, pushing you to see how far you would go. your mind raced with a hundred answers—his talent, his confidence, the way he commanded attention without even trying—but none of those seemed right in the moment.

“the way you move,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a breath.

his smirk deepened, interest flickering behind his eyes. “yeah?”

you swallowed, pressing your thighs together. “on stage… the way you take control. it’s like you know exactly what you’re doing to everyone watching.”

ni-ki tilted his head slightly, his fingers tapping against his knee. “and what do i do to you?”

your heart lurched. you felt like you were teetering on the edge of something dangerous, something you weren’t sure you could handle. your fingers curled tighter into the couch, nails digging into the fabric. “ni-ki—”

he reached out, his fingers brushing against your jaw, tilting your chin up. the touch was light—too light, like he was testing your reaction. your breath stilled in your lungs as his thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, his eyes flickering down, lingering.

“i like hearing you say my name like that,” he murmured, his voice dark and smooth, like velvet against your skin.

the tension was suffocating now, wrapping around you like a vice. he didn’t move away, didn’t break eye contact, just let the moment stretch between you until your pulse was thrumming so hard you thought it might burst through your skin.

his lips hovered near your ear, his breath hot as he whispered, “do you know what happens in private meetings like this?”

you shook your head, unable to speak, your body wound tight with anticipation.

his fingers trailed down your throat, featherlight, his touch igniting something deep in your core. “neither do i,” he admitted, his lips barely grazing your skin. “but i’d love to find out.”

he crashed his plush lips onto yours, the heat of his breath mingling with yours in a frenzy of unspoken desires. the moment his mouth met yours, the sweet, creamy taste of your vanilla gloss coated his tongue, sending a spark down his spine, igniting something primal within him. a soft groan rumbled from his chest, a mix of hunger and disbelief at what he was doing.

in his mind, a war raged—logic screamed that this was reckless, forbidden even, yet every fiber of his being ached to feel you, to claim you. you were just a fan, someone he should admire from a safe, respectable distance, but from the second you stepped into the room, your very presence ensnared him. the way you carried yourself, the effortless beauty that radiated from you—it was mesmerizing, intoxicating. he had tried to resist, to maintain the careful boundaries drawn between admiration and indulgence, but now, with you in his arms, those restraints snapped like a thread pulled too tight.

his fingers gripped your waist, pulling you closer, desperate to close the space between you. he needed more, needed to drown in the sensation of you—your warmth, your softness, the way you surrendered so easily to his touch. his heart pounded, breath ragged, as the weight of reality momentarily faded into the background.

he wrapped his strong arms around you, effortlessly lifting you before settling you onto his lap, pulling you flush against him. the warmth of his body seeped into yours, his grip firm yet full of longing, as if he never wanted to let you go. your fingers found their way into his hair, tangling in the soft strands, tugging just enough to make him let out a low, breathy groan. his lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of your neck, the heat of his breath sending shivers down your spine before he pressed slow, open-mouthed kisses against it.

sucking, nibbling, teasing—he took his time, reveling in the way your pulse quickened beneath his touch. his tongue flicked over the spot just below your jaw before he latched on, leaving a mark, a silent claim, his lips moving as though he wanted to imprint himself onto every inch of you.

"fuck, baby…" niki groaned, his voice thick with want as his lust-blown eyes met yours. they held you captive for just a fleeting second before the hunger overtook him again, and he crashed his lips onto yours with a desperate intensity. the kiss was deep, searing, as if he needed to taste every part of you, to drown in your sweetness. his tongue slid past your lips, claiming your mouth in a way that left no room for hesitation—only raw, unfiltered desire.

his hands gripped your hips firmly, guiding your movements against him, the friction sending waves of pleasure crashing through both of you. every slow, deliberate grind had him teetering on the edge of control, his breathing growing heavier with each passing second. his head lolled back for a brief moment, lips parted as a deep groan threatened to spill from his throat. but he wasn’t willing to give in so easily—not yet.

forcing himself to meet your gaze, his hooded eyes locked onto yours, dark and heavy with lust. he bit down hard on his bottom lip, a feeble attempt to stifle the needy moans and deep grunts bubbling up inside him. but the way you moved, the way your body molded so perfectly against his, made it impossible to hold back completely.

“shit, baby…” niki exhaled, his voice thick with desire, almost breathless as his hands slid up your body. his rough fingers trailed over your sides before greedily cupping your tits, squeezing them with just the right amount of pressure to pull a whimper from you. his thumbs grazed over your sensitive peaks, teasing, testing, relishing in the way you shuddered under his touch. his lips parted again, eyes drinking in the sight of you, utterly lost in the intoxicating pleasure that neither of you could escape.

"fuck, baby… i can't…" he grunted, his voice thick with desperation as his hands gripped the hem of your shirt, yanking it over your head in one swift motion. his fingers worked with a feverish urgency, snapping your bra off with a single skilled movement before his lips crashed onto your bare skin.

his mouth latched onto your tits, hot and eager, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud before sucking it in with a deep, greedy pull. the wet sounds of his mouth working against your flesh filled the room, blending with your breathy moans as he ravished you, sucking and nipping with a hunger that made your head spin.

"n–niki—!" you gasped, your voice breaking into a moan as the pleasure coursed through you. your hips never ceased their movements, grinding against him with increasing desperation, the friction only fueling the burning need between you. you could feel how hard he was beneath you, straining against the growing heat between your thighs, your core soaked and aching for more.

he groaned against your skin, his teeth grazing over your peak before pulling back, his lips red and swollen from the way he had devoured you. his hooded eyes, darkened with pure lust, flickered up to meet yours, his breath ragged as he took in the sight of you unraveling beneath him.

"i want more..." you moaned out, your voice breathless with need as your fingers tugged impatiently at the waistband of his pants, silently pleading for him to rid himself of the barriers between you.

niki's breath hitched, his restraint snapping like a fragile thread. without hesitation, he stood up, his movements hurried yet precise as he stripped himself of his pants and boxers, the fabric pooling at his feet. his gaze never left you as he did the same for you, peeling away the last remaining layers until nothing separated your heated bodies.

his breath caught in his throat as he took you in—bathed in the soft glow of the dim light, your skin glowing, every curve, every inch of you absolutely breathtaking. his eyes darkened, filled with nothing but raw hunger and awe, as if he were gazing upon an angel fallen straight from the heavens, too perfect to be real.

"fuck… you're so beautiful," he murmured, voice laced with admiration and lust before he reached for you, effortlessly pulling you back onto his lap.

his lips crashed onto yours again, needy, desperate—he could never get enough of you, never tire of the intoxicating taste of your mouth, the way you melted into him, soft and pliant in his arms. his hands roamed your body, mapping out every dip and curve as his hips bucked slightly beneath you, his cock twitching as it pressed against your slick heat.

he groaned deeply, the feeling of your wetness coating his cock making his head spin. gripping himself, he stroked his tip along your entrance, teasing, coating himself in your arousal as his lips hovered over yours, breath hot and heavy.

"you ready, baby?" he murmured, his voice deep, sultry, promising nothing but pure pleasure. he smirked against your lips, his hands squeezing your hips as he positioned himself. "i'm gonna have you screaming my name..."

he finally pushed inside you, the sensation of your tight, warm walls wrapping around him stealing the very breath from his lungs. a deep, guttural moan tore from his throat, his head tilting back as pleasure shot through him. his grip on your hips tightened, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he tried to steady himself, tried to keep from losing himself too soon in the overwhelming heat of you.

“shit… you’re so fucking tight, baby…” he groaned, his voice strained, thick with pleasure. his forehead pressed against yours, his heavy breaths mingling with your own as he fought to control the way his body begged him to move.

he started slow, his hips rolling into you with deep, deliberate strokes, savoring every inch of the way you clenched around him. each movement sent another wave of bliss coursing through his veins, his jaw clenching as he forced himself to hold back. you felt too good, too perfect—he was already teetering on the edge, his body screaming for more, but he wanted to make this last.

his hands roamed over your body, fingers tracing over your curves as his lips found yours again, swallowing your moans as he built up a steady rhythm. every thrust sent sparks of pleasure between you, the sound of skin meeting skin filling the room, mixing with the breathy gasps and moans that spilled from both of you.

"fuck, baby… i don't know how much longer i can hold back," he groaned, his voice trembling with restraint, every fiber of his being aching to give in, to let go and drown in the feeling of you.

his hands cradled your face, fingers pressing firmly against your skin as his hips snapped into you with growing urgency. each thrust was deep, deliberate at first, but as the pleasure consumed him, his rhythm grew desperate, erratic. the way you clenched around him, the way your body responded to his every movement, had his mind fogging over, completely lost in the intoxicating euphoria you provided.

his lips sought yours hungrily, devouring every moan, every gasp that spilled from you as he lost himself in your warmth. but it wasn’t enough—he needed more. his mouth trailed down, teeth scraping against your jaw before latching onto the sensitive skin of your neck. he sucked hard, his tongue flicking over the bruised flesh as though he wanted to mark you, to claim you as his.

his body trembled now, shuddering with every thrust, every squeeze of your tight walls around him. his cock twitched violently, a telltale sign of just how close he was to the edge. his grip on you tightened, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, his groans turning into broken curses as he felt himself spiraling.

“fuck! shit, baby… i’m close…” he gritted out between heavy pants, his voice strained, raw with pleasure. his lips returned to yours in a bruising kiss, swallowing every sound you made, as if he needed to feel every bit of you, needed to drown in you completely before the inevitable release crashed over him.

his hands gripped onto your breasts, fingers kneading the soft flesh with a desperation that matched the erratic rhythm of his hips. each snap of his pelvis against yours was rough, urgent, his control slipping away with every thrust. his damp hair clung to his forehead, stray strands falling into his lust-darkened eyes, the intensity in his gaze sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.

the way he looked at you—wild, needy, utterly consumed—pushed you further, made you unravel beneath him. your hands clung to his shoulders, nails digging into his heated skin as your body rocked in sync with his movements. every deep stroke forced you to bounce on his cock, the pleasure so overwhelming it sent shudders through your entire body.

his hands trailed down your back, rough fingertips tracing your spine before sliding lower, gripping onto your ass with a bruising hold. his palms squeezed your flesh before delivering sharp, stinging smacks, the loud sound echoing through the room, mixing with the wet sounds of your bodies colliding. he groaned at the way you clenched around him, his restraint slipping entirely as he chased the high that was quickly consuming him.

“fuck, fuck, fuck!—” he choked out, his voice ragged, his breath erratic as he felt himself spiraling. his hips snapped up into you one last time, deep and unrelenting, before the tension within him snapped.

a strangled moan ripped from his throat as his release hit him hard, white-hot pleasure surging through his veins as his cum spilled into you, thick and warm. the sensation sent you tumbling over the edge with him, your walls fluttering around his pulsing length as waves of pleasure wracked through your body.

he held onto you tightly, forehead pressed against yours, panting heavily as the aftershocks of his climax coursed through him. his hands, once rough and greedy, now smoothed over your skin in slow, soothing strokes, grounding both of you as you came down from the intoxicating high together.

heavy breaths filled the room, the air thick with the aftermath of pleasure. your bodies remained pressed together, skin slick with sweat, the heat between you lingering even after the intensity had passed. the scent of sex and warmth clung to the space, a reminder of just how deeply lost you had been in each other.

niki’s chest rose and fell rapidly beneath you, his arms still wrapped securely around your waist as if he had no intention of letting you go just yet. his touch softened, no longer fueled by urgency but instead by something more tender. his fingers traced slow, lazy patterns along your spine before he reached up, brushing back the damp strands of hair clinging to your flushed face.

his lips found your cheek, pressing delicate, lingering kisses against your heated skin, a stark contrast to the way he had devoured you moments ago. each kiss was soft, almost reverent, as if he were memorizing you, savoring every last bit of this moment.

a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips before he murmured, voice still husky and laced with exhaustion, “i hope i see you more often now.”

his words carried more weight than just post-bliss small talk—there was something genuine in the way he said it, something that made your stomach flutter. his fingers grazed your jaw, tilting your face just enough for his lips to brush against yours once more, a slow, lazy kiss filled with unspoken promises.

natty's notes 𖤝 hoped you enjoyed and tysm for 300 followers !!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I wanna see what’s Ace’s family’s reaction when they found out Ace is dating reader Heheheh

I decided to have only Ace's brother present, since Mr. and Mrs. Trappola have yet to receive strong characterization.

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

The Trappola brothers sat across from one another upon red velvet chairs, and you, between them. They were both intently focused on building a house of playing cards—a task that Ace had warned took “serious patience, coordination, and a gentle touch.” (You had rolled your eyes and responded, “Great. You let me know when you’ve found someone that has all that.”)

Ace carefully laid a Two of Spades down, formed a triangle with a Three of Clubs and a Four of Diamonds. His hand slowly retreated, and the triangle stayed. He expelled a sigh, directed away from the cards so as to not disturb them.

You would have clapped for him, but Ace had discouraged you before the game had even started. So instead, you tapped your index and middle fingers together. Still giving applause, but not nearly enough to rattle the house of cards.

“Your move.”

“Huh, you’ve gotten better at this,” his brother mused. He toyed with an Ace of Hearts, expertly twirling it between dexterous fingers. “Too bad. I was really looking forward to smoking you in front of your new friend.”

“In your dreams,” Ace sneered, passing you a glance. “The last thing I’d want is to look uncool in front of my partner.”

His brother drew himself up in his seat. The card in his hand, stilling. “Your partner? Since when were you two a thing?”

“Oh, you know… since a while ago,” Ace casually replied. “And honestly, I can’t really blame’m. Who wouldn’t fall for my dashing good looks and roguish charm? I’m a catch!”

His brother regarded you with an almost pitying look. “It’s not too late to change your mind,” he advised.

You burst into laughter. "I think I'm good. Ace is an idiot, but he's at least my idiot."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you've got a sense of humor. You'll need that if you're going to put up with Ace all of the time. Congrats, you passed the first test."

"Whaddya mean 'put up with' me?!" Ace protested, puffing up his cheeks. A pout--adorable, you think.

"I mean it exactly how I said it. It's practically a full-time job dealing with you," his brother replied cheekily. "You gotta prepare people for it, or else they won't know what they've signed up for."

"Oh, come on! You're making me sound way worse than I actually am."

"This, coming from the guy who ghosted his ex?" He smirked, and you could see the family resemblance in it. The slight narrowing of the eyes, the way his mouth angled. "I dunno, I was half expecting you to stay single forever after that royal screw-up, lil' bro. You're lucky you found someone willing to take you~"

Pink exploded onto Ace's cheeks. "H-Hey...!" he hissed, leaning toward his brother. "Did you seriously have to bring that up?! Have a little more tact, will ya?!"

The older Trappola grinned. "Gotcha."

You realized why.

Ace's sudden movement had sent a slight breeze against the card house. It wobbled from top to bottom--then the structure collapsed in on itself, the cards all folding into one another. Within seconds, the house was a pile on the coffee table.

Ace fell to his knees with a pathetic wail, scrambling to salvage his hard work. His brother looked on, chuckling. A card, still in his hand.

"I didn't place mine yet," he declared triumphantly, "and since you made the house fall, it's technically my win!"

"Y-You sneaky...! You taunted me on purpose!!"

"Yeah, and it worked like a charm." He flicked Ace on the forehead. "You were too busy trying to flex in front of your S/O. It was easy to take advantage of that. You always were a cocky, predictable brat."

"Grrrrr..!!"

"Ace, it's fine," you soothed him, a hand on his arm. "You did your best. It doesn't change how I feel about you."

"Tch, there you go being all sappy again... You're so lame sometimes," Ace grumbled--but he covered your hand with his. A small gesture, but a reassuring one.

"Hahah, look at you two lovebirds," his brother teased, wagging a finger at you. Then he reached out and roughly ruffled Ace's hair, despite his complaints and attempts to swat him away. "Happy for you though, lil' bro! You gotta tell me how this love story started--"

[evnseokz]

꒰ ☆ beneath the bed ~ p.wb ꒱

pairing: sandman! wonbin x f. reader

contents: mythical creature! wonbin, oral (fem receiving), fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (dont), kissing, making out, pet names: good girl, darling, baby, wonbin has powers, pwp, that’s all i think!

a.n: i’ve been working on this for weeks i hope it’s okay <3 w.c: 1.8k

MINORS DNI

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

You always thought the idea of a monster under the bed was something for children—silly, irrational, a thing to grow out of. But now, lying stiff as a board under the weight of an unshakable presence, you realize you were wrong.

You feel him before you see him. a shift in the air, a slow drag of something heavy against the wooden floor. The dim light from the streetlamp outside barely reaches the shadows that pool beneath your bed, but your breath hitches as you hear it—his voice, smooth and teasing, curling around your name like smoke.

“You’re still awake.”

It isn’t a question.

You squeeze your eyes shut, your fingers tightening in the sheets. The rational part of you screams to ignore him, to pull the covers over your head and pretend like you can’t feel the heat of his presence licking at the edge of your mattress. but you don’t. You never do.

“Can’t sleep,” you whisper, barely audible.

A low chuckle vibrates from beneath you, and the sound alone is enough to send a shiver down your spine. Then, before you can steel yourself, he moves.

A hand—long fingers, cool to the touch—slides up from the darkness, curling around the edge of the bed frame. The shift of weight makes the mattress dip ever so slightly, and then, Wonbin emerges.

He moves with the languid grace of something not quite human, something that has spent lifetimes lurking in the dark. His hair is tousled, lips curved in a smirk that holds far too many secrets. His eyes—dark, bottomless—gleam as he peers up at you, resting his chin on the mattress.

“You think too much,” he muses, tilting his head. “That's why you can’t sleep.”

You swallow hard. It isn’t the first time he’s said that, and it won’t be the last. The worst part? He’s right.

“Maybe.”

Wonbin hums, dragging his fingers along the fabric of your sheets, slow, deliberate. “I could help, you know.”

Your heart stutters. You should say no. You should push him back into the abyss he came from. But when he shifts, crawling up onto the bed with effortless ease, your body betrays you.

The air between you thickens, heavy with something unspoken. He’s close now, close enough that you can see the way his pupils dilate as he watches you. close enough that you can feel his breath ghost over your skin.

“You want me to, don’t you?” His voice is velvet, a whisper of temptation against the shell of your ear.

You don’t answer. You don’t need to. The way your breath hitches, the way your fingers clench the sheets—he sees it all.

Wonbin smirks. “That's what I thought.”

And then, the last sliver of space between you disappears.

Wonbin doesn't rush.

He never does.

His fingers trail up your arm, a featherlight touch that sends a ripple of heat through your body. He's testing you, waiting for you to pull away, to tell him this is a mistake. but you don't. You won't.

His smirk deepens, and then he moves—slowly, deliberately—until his lips hover just above yours. His breath is warm, intoxicating, and when he tilts his head, barely brushing his mouth against you, it's not enough.

A frustrated sound escapes you, and that's all he needs.

Wonbin's lips press against yours, soft at first—teasing, coaxing. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world, like he enjoys watching you squirm beneath the weight of anticipation. His hand comes up to cup your jaw, thumb grazing your cheek, and when he deepens the kiss, your stomach flips.

His lips move against yours, slow and unhurried, but there's something dark simmering beneath the surface. something dangerous. His teeth graze your bottom lip, sharp enough to make you gasp, and he swallows the sound greedily.

"See?" he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with amusement. "I always know what you need."

You don't get the chance to argue.

Because then, he kisses you again—harder this time, more insistent. His hands find your waist, pulling you closer, and suddenly, there's no space between you at all.

His body presses yours against the mattress, slotting himself between your legs. The weight of him pressing against your core sends shivers down your spine. Your mouth parts as a soft sigh escapes your lips. 

Wonbin takes this opportunity to push his tongue into your mouth, the muscles immediately fighting for dominance, Wonbin ultimately winning in the end. The kiss is anything but slow, your lips moving against each other with urgency. 

Your hands fist at the fabric of his shirt, and as if on cue, his shirt melts off of him and into thin air. You were used to his interesting capabilities, but that didn’t prevent you from being caught off guard almost every time. 

You don’t have time to fully react as Wonbin is moving his lips away from your mouth, down your jaw, and to your neck. He sucks lightly on your skin in some places, earning small whines from you in return. He smirks against your skin before pulling back to look you in your eyes.

He holds eye contact with you for a moment, your chest heaving up and down as you look at him, not sure what his next move is going to be. 

“Something’s not right,” he trails off. His hand raises in the air, his thumb and middle finger snapping, and within an instant your clothes have disappeared off of your body. 

You instantly curl in on yourself, arms covering your chest at the sudden lack of covering on your body. Wonbin loved how you covered yourself, acting as if your body wasn’t literally begging for him to fuck you.

He chuckled lowly before leaning back in, his hands wrapping around your wrists, pulling your arms away from your body. His lips immediately attach to your breasts. He lets your arms fall so his own can roam the curves of your body, but you're quick to attach your hands to his hair. 

The light tugs you make on his scalp earn low groans from Wonbin, but he doesn’t falter a bit. His lips work expertly on your nipples, his tongue swirling around the bud, while his fingers pinch the other one. Your back arches, pressing yourself further against him as his lips begin to trail lower.

Goosebumps litter your skin at the feeling of his lips against your stomach. They trail lower and lower and lower until he reaches your heat.

His hands splay against your thighs, pushing your legs apart so he can see you fully. He hums at the sight of your cunt, glistening with slick all for him. His eyes turn black with lust, his head immediately dipping back down to devour you whole.

You throw your head back once his mouth is on your cunt. His lips suck on your clit while his fingers trace over your opening. He hid tongue circles around your swollen bud, his mouth working sloppily against your heat.

Without warning, his finger plunges inside of you, eliciting a moan from your lips. He quickly adds another finger in, scissoring you open. He looks up at you from his current position in between your legs, reveling in the way you react to him.

You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your fists balling up against your sides. “C-close,” you breathe, chest still heaving with pleasure.

Wonbin removes himself from your heat completely at your words, his fingers slipping out of you as well. You cry at the loss of contact, “Bbin…” you whine.

“So needy,” he says, voice sultry. 

He moves his body back in between your legs, “I’ll give you what you want, don’t worry darling.”

You practically melt at his words. You hated how much of an effect he had on you. He leans back slightly, lining up his cock with your entrance, before slowly pushing himself inside. His eyes squeeze shut at the feeling of your tightness, a groan rumbling out of him. 

Your jaw has gone slack, head thrown back at the feeling of him stretching you out. After he bottoms out, he leans back over you, caging your body beneath him. He begins moving, starting off slow. So slow it's almost agonizing.

Tears prick at your eyes, your desire and the pleasure you’re feeling suddenly becoming overwhelming. 

Wonbin picks up the pace, thrusting into you at a pace that makes you see stars, his tip hitting that gummy spot inside you, over and over again. His head falls against your shoulder. 

“I want to spend every night buried inside of you, pleasing you, fucking you.” He growls against the skin of your shoulder. 

You moan in response, clenching around him at his words. “Fuck, Wonbin!” You cry out.

“That's right, baby, scream my name.” His head has risen again, watching your face contort as he continues to fuck you dumb.

You can feel your orgasm pulling at you again, the buildup from earlier hitting you again. this time with much more force. Wonbin pulls out completely before bottoming out again, jackhammering his hips into yours. desperate to see you fall apart beneath him. 

You begin to crumble, your stomach tightening completely before exploding into pleasure. “Wonbin!” You practically scream, your legs shaking as your eyes squeeze shut. 

Incoherent babbles fall from your lips as he fucks you through your orgasm, his own not far behind. “Good girl, doing s-so good for me,” he praises you as his hips begin to stutter, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he spills into you. 

He pulls out of you, leaving you feeling empty as you clench around nothing. 

The air between you is thick with heat, your bodies still tingling from the intensity of what just happened. Your body feels weightless, suspended in the quiet that follows, your breaths mingling with his in the dim light of your bedroom.

Wonbin watches you, his dark eyes tracing every inch of your face as if memorizing the way you look in this moment—flushed, dazed, utterly undone. His fingers ghost along your cheek, cool against your warm skin, and for a fleeting second, you wonder if he’ll stay.

But you already know the answer.

His touch lingers for just a moment longer before he pulls away, a quiet chuckle escaping his lips as he watches your eyelids flutter. Sleep is creeping in, pulling you under, your body succumbing to the exhaustion of the night.

“You always do this,” he murmurs, voice softer than before. “Give in to me, and then drift away.”

You hum in response, barely conscious, the weight of sleep too heavy to fight.

Wonbin exhales, amused, and you feel the ghost of his fingers brushing one last time against your hair before the weight on the bed shifts. The warmth of him disappears, replaced by the cool whisper of air as he slips back into the darkness where he came from.

This wasn't the first time Wonbin helped you fall asleep, and it won’t be the last.

…

..

.

[chrissssssmut]

One with Rosé

NO ESCAPE

Yandere Boss Rosé x Male

AN: Hope this one's good! Im currently writing the next request XD

You hated your job.

More specifically, you hated your boss, Park Chaeyoung—better known as Rosé.

She wasn’t just strict—she was ruthless. A tyrant wrapped in designer suits and a wicked smile, ruling over the office like a queen who knew no one would dare to oppose her. She had a special kind of enjoyment in tormenting her employees, but for some reason, you were her favorite target.

“You’re useless,” she’d scoff when you turned in paperwork with a minor mistake. “I should fire you, but where else would I get my entertainment?”

Meetings turned into hellish endurance tests, your name constantly being called out for blunders, some of which weren’t even yours. But you knew why she did it. She liked to see you squirm under her attention, liked the way your hands shook when she loomed over your desk, voice like silk but words sharp enough to cut.

And yet, you endured it. Until you didn’t.

The resignation letter sat on your desk for weeks before you finally had the courage to hand it in. You had expected her to mock you, to laugh in your face, maybe even throw it back at you. But instead, she simply smiled. A slow, knowing smile that sent a chill down your spine.

“You think you can leave?” she mused, twirling a pen between her fingers. “That’s cute.”

“I’ve already made my decision.” You kept your voice steady, despite the dread curling in your stomach.

Her smile didn’t waver. If anything, it grew. “We’ll see about that.”

You started skipping work.

At first, it was just a day. Then two. Then an entire week. No calls, no emails—nothing. You wanted her to get the message: you weren’t coming back.

Then, one night, there was a knock on your door.

Dread pooled in your stomach before you even opened it. And when you did, you wished you hadn’t.

Rosé stood there, silhouetted against the dim hallway light. She was smiling, but it wasn’t the usual condescending smirk. No, this one was different—sinister, dark, filled with something unhinged. Her eyes gleamed with a dangerous mix of amusement and rage.

“You’re avoiding me,” she said, voice almost sing-song, as if she was teasing a lover. “That’s not very nice.”

Your breath hitched. “I… I don’t work for you anymore.”

Rosé tilted her head, feigning confusion. Then, before you could react, she stepped forward, forcing you back into your own apartment as she shut the door behind her.

“You don’t get to leave me,” she whispered, her voice low, a warning wrapped in velvet.

You turned to flee, but she was faster. Her hand shot out, gripping your wrist tight enough to bruise. Panic surged through you as you struggled, but she was stronger than she looked, pinning you against the wall with terrifying ease.

“You’re mine,” she murmured, eyes gleaming with something possessive, something utterly terrifying. “And I don’t like it when my things try to run away.”

You shoved at her, desperation fueling your fight. “Get off me!”

She responded with a sharp slap across your face, the impact ringing through the room. Your vision blurred for a second, pain flaring along your cheek. Before you could recover, she grabbed your hair and yanked your head back, forcing you to look at her.

“You think you can just disappear?” she hissed. “After everything I’ve given you? After all the time I spent making you mine?”

Terror pulsed through your veins as she shoved you onto the floor, her heeled foot pressing onto your chest. She leaned down, fingers curling around your throat, squeezing just enough to make breathing difficult but not enough to knock you out.

“I could make this worse,” she whispered, her breath hot against your ear. “I could hurt you so much more, make you beg me to let you stay.”

You clawed at her grip, trying to push her away, but she only laughed, enjoying your struggle. She yanked you up by your collar, dragging you toward the bedroom. You thrashed wildly, but a sharp punch to your gut sent you collapsing onto the mattress, gasping for air.

“You’re not going anywhere,” she purred, straddling you, her nails digging into your jaw as she forced you to meet her gaze. “You belong to me.”

Tears welled in your eyes, fear overriding everything else.

“Please… just let me go,” you croaked.

Her lips curled into a smirk as she leaned in closer. “Say it,” she commanded. “Say you’ll come back.”

You hesitated, and she wrapped a hand around your throat again, tightening her grip until your vision swam.

“I’ll come back!” you choked out, gasping. “I’ll go back to work, I swear!”

She released you abruptly, watching as you crumpled into a coughing mess beneath her. Her fingers gently traced your bruised skin, a mockery of tenderness.

“Good boy,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple before standing up. “Be ready in the morning. I expect you at your desk.”

And just like that, she walked away, leaving you shaking, broken, and utterly hers.

The next morning, you were at your desk.

Your hands trembled slightly as you typed, the bruises on your wrist hidden under the sleeves of your shirt. The office bustled around you as if nothing had happened, as if the last night hadn’t left you shattered.

And then you felt it.

A gaze.

You looked up, and there she was—Rosé, standing across the office, watching you. Her lips curled into a slow, satisfied smirk, her eyes dark with a silent warning.

You knew what it meant.

You were stuck with her.

Forever.

[fawnning]

plug in baby

title inspo plug in baby by muse (i worship this song, has nothing to do with the fic i just love it.. 🤤)

18+ MDNI / fem!reader x bf!leon, voyeurism(?), oral (f receiving), p in v, praising, mild breeding kink, petnames (baby, good girl)

a/n: oh my god.. i have no idea what got to me, not proofread cuz i woke up at 3 in the morn to write this (crazy fuckin' coincidence, i know)

oh yeah another note: this was from months back (nearly a year) so do what you must with this info and hold low expectations i guess !

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒─────⭒─⭑──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

It's 3 am, you know you shouldn't be awake now, let alone bother your boyfriend— for your needs; but fuck, you could feel yourself soaking in arousal. You knew you were too bothered and tired to take care of it, you'd just rest your thighs tightly together, creating some form of friction to ease yourself. Leon wasn't a heavy sleeper, he'd jolt up over the sound of a pin drop and such. You watched him closely, on one hand you were getting off to his bare body in his peaceful slumber, on the other you were keeping an eye out, a part of you hoped he would wake up.

Before you knew it, you slid your own hand under the band of your shorts, another caressing your breast, letting out faint mewls as you fucked yourself. Ultimately you thought nothing was better than this, your moans brought Leon out of his peaceful sleep, his eyes fluttered open before his gaze met yours, then your needy body. "Fuck, can't just leave me out of this," His voice was groggy as he spoke. Leon waited for your approval, he pulled you closer upon watching you nod a couple of times, affirming your consent. Both hands tugged on the sides of your shorts before sliding them right off. "So fucking wet, huh?" He slurred. Your body was splayed over the sheets, your hands gripped either sides of your pillow while his fingers curled inside you, leaving you with almost no time to reply. His fingers fucked your insides ruthlessly as your body was forced to lie still, "L-Leon, 'm gonna cum," you whined. "Fuck, can't get you doing that yet, sweetheart— not after you woke me up like that." He teased as he pulled his fingers back, "Open up for me, baby." You complied immediately, letting his two fingers that were laced with your slick to be cleaned up by your mouth.

He brought his hand back to your thighs as he rested his face right near your soaking pussy, spreading your legs even wider as he pressed kisses across your cunt. "'M gonna fuck'er nice, baby," He slurred before flicking his tongue across your insides, nosed on your clit as he watched you squirm, one hand gripped your wrist while the other rested on your thigh. You were once again in that very high, so close to your orgasm, and it was more than apparent. "Not yet, sweetheart." He tested once again before continuously pressing pecks on your clit before they turned sloppy, getting much more than a taste each and every time he savoured your pussy. "Leon, please, y'can't keep—" You pleaded, he still refused to give you what you wanted.

His face turned back after a strip of saliva lead from your pussy all the way to your breasts, his tongue flicked on your sensitive bud as the other had been fiddled and squeezed by his hand. He continued sucking on your tits before pulling back, making a pop noise as he did. He'd been breaking you with his endless teasing, fully aware you wanted more, which he'd eventually give you. You watched, breathless as he slapped his cock, throbbing, pre dripped from the tip before sliding it right through your entrance, your slick had coated more than enough, your arousal flared as he began thrusting through your velvet walls. "S'fucking tight, g'nna breed this tight pussy," He slurred while hovering over to your neck, placing sloppy kisses over and over throughout one part of your neck while he fucked you raw.

"Leon, can't.." You whimpered, "Of course you can," He darted back at you, spanking your ass red once or twice after raising your legs to rest over his shoulders all while mercilessly rutting against you. "P-please, 'm gonna cum.." You were at your final plea, adding a slight strain to your voice to show him your desperation to cum. "Yeah? 'M g'nna cum too, baby. C'mon, take it." He picked his pace up, groaning as he felt your nails scratch his back while he arched over you. "Fuck, take it." Both of your bodies shot up at once, feeling your high together as he relentlessly thrusted into you, strings of cum filled your insides as your orgasm came washing over.

"Knew you could, s'cha good girl for me," He pressed a chaste kiss over your forehead before pulling out, cum dripped from your cunt, his finger stopped the trail before fingering it back into you. "Don't waste a single drop of it, you asked for this." His honeyed voice now rough and assertive. Your body dropped back as you came down from your high.

[dustyrkives]

The Destroyer, The Creator

PAIRINGS: Carla Radames x fem reader

WARNINGS: RE6 Carla, scientist/nurse r, Edonia setting, made a few tweaks in this one, so pls bear with me, power dynamic, possessive Carla, protective Carla, est. paramours, teasing, forbidden relationship, p in v sex, missionary, rough sex, raw sex, unprotected sex, cervix kissing, implied creampies, implied marathon sex, brief choking, tummy bulging, cock-warming and that's about it folks!

SYNOPSIS: You were a scientist, not a soldier–yet under Carla's watchful gaze, you felt more like an experiment than a colleague. She was possessive, relentless, and dangerously fixated on you. And when the night turned into a celebration of her latest success, you realized one thing: Carla doesn't share what's hers.

MEN, MINORS DNI

The cold was biting through your bones.

Your coat did very little to provide warmth as you traverse to the facility, carrying Carla's charts.

Yes, her charts–she is your creation with Simmons. Simmons, that old bastard. With his obsession with a certain mercenary, he used Carla as a test subject for genetic reconstruction, reshaping her into an identical clone of Ada against her will.

The experiment turns out to be a success—physically, she looks like Ada, but mentally, she is still herself.

What a recipe for an identity crisis and a deep hate for Simmons.

And you can see it.

The resentment, the hatred that pools in deep blue eyes as she examines the data handed to her by your fellow scientists.

"Where were you?" She demands, her voice smooth like velvet and just as juxtaposing as she does not take her eyes off the charts.

"Just touring around the facility." You mused, not surprised by the brusque tone seeping into her tone. "Why didn't you bring the guards with you?" Carla asks again as she types away her findings.

Your brows pinch together. "They're doing their rounds, Carla–the facility is full of them."

Finally, she tears her eyes away from the screen, her eyes inquisitive and alert. "I texted you, but you didn't respond when asked about your whereabouts."

Your cheeks flush, and your face burns. "I left my device."

Carla raises a sharp brow, her eyes narrowing. "You left your device?" She repeats, unimpressed.

"Carla–" You exasperated, "I'm within the facility. There's no need for that–"

Your words die in your throat as the former strides towards you. Her expression is controlled and practiced, her strides calm and collected, but her eyes tell a different story. Those light, icy blue eyes swirl with an emotion akin to possession and control; there's just something about how Carla looks at you that makes you feel small and perhaps valued.

“Did I not tell you,” she murmurs, her knuckles tracing your cheek, “to bring security with you wherever you go, doll?”

Swallowing slowly, you nod. "But–"

"I won't be hearing any excuses." The virologist sternly cuts you off, her slender, well-maintained hand grasps your jaw, tilting it upwards to meet her narrowed eyes.

"You alone hold knowledge of our research, our findings… and you, darling, are an important asset to me." She leans close to your ear. "That also includes you in a non-professional setting."

You shudder as Carla tilts your face to the side, exposing your neck. A moment passes—just long enough for anticipation to coil in your stomach—before she presses a slow, deliberate kiss to your skin.

"Do you understand?" She purrs lowly, her icy blue eyes gleaming with authority and slight fondness.

"Y-yes," You gulp.

Carla's chest rumbles with a chuckle before her eyes travel down to the charts you're holding. "Are those mine?"

"Yes," You clear your throat and lay them on the table for her to see. "So far, your brain activity is normal, and cognitive processes and neural waves are fully functional. You're still you."

"Good," She nods as you put the charts away. With two fingers, she curls them towards you, beckoning you to come to her. You obey as she leads you out of the conference room.

"Where are we going?"

The latter doesn't reply. Both the pads of your heels echo in the cold, empty hallways, save for a few scientists who nod their heads in respect to the lead Biotech and Virologist. As you venture deeper into the facility–she's leading you to another lab exclusive only for scientists who have high clearance.

Upon entering, you are greeted by the sight of a scientist working on a new virus.

"They're refining the C-virus," Carla states as you both look at the scientists from the observatory. "Enhancing the mutations before we test them on live samples."

You gulp harshly, knowing she meant to test them on the people of Edonia. "The beginning of a new end." She adds, appraising her new creation.

"I take it," You recover as you stand next to her, "This calls for a celebration." A small smile graces your lips, Carla nods her head in agreement before craning her neck to look at you. "Indeed it does," She pauses before a wolfish smirk breaks past her lips as she leans close to you. "And I have a perfect celebration in mind."

Your cheeks became warm as Carla's smirk morphs into a grin. "You look exquisite when you blush, doll." You clear your throat and look down as if your shoes had suddenly become interesting. The former can only grin at your flustered state before another high-clearance guard intrudes you two.

Carla's expression programs into a cold scowl as she turns to the guard. "What is it?" Her tone was steely, unfeeling–compared to the tone that she uses on you whenever you two are alone.

"Simmons is on the line for you."

Your eyes shift to the taller woman, a pregnant pause before she finally speaks. "Lead the way."

Of course, knowing that you're assigned under Ada's chain of command, you follow after her. The walk to the conference room is silent, the dark and cold atmosphere does nothing to lighten the rather tense atmosphere with the topic of Simmons' need for communication and evaluation.

By the time the three of you reach the room, Simmons' holographic face is already on. The door shuts behind you.

"Ah, my Ada." You flinch upon seeing Carla visibly stiffen. "How's the C-virus on your end?"

"Improving." She answers stiffly. "I assume that you didn't just call to check on my little project, yes?"

A grating chuckle echoes in the room. "You know me so well. Word has it that an agent will be extracting a valuable asset to our research–have you got to him yet?"

Jake Muller?

"My men have already tracked the boy," Carla reports. "It won't be long until he is dragged here in chains–if I have to."

The older man nods before his eyes shift to you, and your breath hitches as his eyes sharpen. Carla notices this and covers your body with hers. "Is there anything else?"

"None," Simmons blinks, amused. "Keep up the good work, Ada–I'll be in touch."

And the call ends.

Oxygen leaves your body as Carla turns to you, her expression is unreadable as she comes to you, her lithe arm snaking around your waist as her lips press feather-like kisses on your face.

She tilts her head, letting the shadows frame her sharp features, her voice a low purr. “You trust me, don’t you, doll?” The way she says it isn’t a question—it’s a promise, a claim. Her lips ghost over your pulse, and your breath hitches as she lingers, her exhale cold against your skin.

“Be in my room,” she murmurs, tone thick with something unreadable. “I won’t ask twice.”

"I just have a few things to do before we... celebrate." A smirk graces Carla's lips while your body becomes warm with anticipation. She gently pats your rear. "Now run along, doll. I'll see you later."

Without another word, you obey the former and exit the room. Your heart hammers against your ribcage–anticipation and heat coursing in your veins as the darkness of the hallways consumes you.

The wine bottle was left on Carla's desk. One glass tipped, spilling the contents of red wine on the floor, while the other was left untouched. The cacophony of moans, groans, and creaking beds filled Carla's private quarters.

Oh, five looong rounds–you don't know if the bed can still handle it.

Your eyes roll back as the short-haired virologist snakes her arms around your waist, lifting them to meet her needy thrusts; the veins of her cock rubbing deliciously against your malleable walls, the girth splits your warm channel to accommodate her size. Carla feels warm, deliciously warm inside you.

Your legs instinctively wrap around her slim waist–her toned abdomen flexes with each forceful thrust while your hands sling around her shoulders.

"Mine," She kisses your neck, and her pace morphs from needy to sensual. Her knees spread wider, letting you feel every inch of her—buried deep inside you.

"Y-yours," You mewl, your heels digging against her back, pushing her in while you shamelessly meet her hips. Carla can only bite her lower lip in bliss, eyes fluttering close as your warmth welcomes her.

"That's my girl," The woman above you groans, hips rutting into you, forcing you up to the sheets. Her nails dig deep against your skin as she pushes your hips down.

"No, baby–" A soft moan flees from her swollen lips as your walls clench around her. "Yo-you're not running away from me."

Did she just stutter?

Carla's cheeks turn red upon registering it, and she grabs one leg wrapped around her waist, deftly placing it atop her shoulder as her pace becomes shallow, the tip greeting your cervix with quick taps.

"B-baby–nghh," You mewl as she targets your cervix. The perked hill of her fattened cockhead splits with white, viscous precum, buttering your channel and a generous foretelling that there will be more.

The older woman bucks her hips shamelessly into you with a low moan at the back of her throat while she breaks you.

You pull her flush against you, a thin sheen of sweat blankets your bodies as you hold her gaze. You feel Carla's length pump greedy ounces of her essence and swell, growing in girth, expanding your greedy walls further apart.

Oh, how she cherishes you.

Her tongue runs flat against your throat before biting the center while she fucks you into the bed, burying your scent into the sheets. The air is humid with sex and subtle but expensive perfume, creamy mixtures of seed, and slick coat the base of Carla's base as they hit your perked clit with a wet pap!

Your eyes widen.

"Di-did you just–"

"Hush, darling." Her hand curls around your throat while her other hand releases hold on your waist and lands a sharp slap on the curve of your ass.

Both of your bodies were hot–oh Carla needed more.

Let out the steam, the stress, and the hatred Simmons' obsession had forcibly fed her.

With both hands, Carla grips the headboard, her sculpted hips lurching off of the mattress in repeated animalistic ruts.

White-hot pleasure consumes your body, your jaw slacks, your eyes roll back, and your orgasm knocks the air out of your lungs. A vile grin plays on your paramour's lips as she fucks into your orgasm, creating an obscenely beautiful mess.

"C-Carla–" You sob.

Pap, pap, pap, pap!

You forcefully open your eyes–Gods be good.

She looks sinful.

Her short, damp hair slicked back, the muscles on her neck contract, and her abs, sweat drips from the toned muscle–oh, you'll ride them later. That is if your legs are still functional.

Carla rubs her hips as her balls tighten and ropes of sterile cum fill your thirsty womb, greedily taking all of her as she ruts her hips into you–mercilessly.

"You're so warm," She drunkenly confesses as she slowly but surely plants her hands back on the sheets, her lithe arms swelling with strength as she lets you ride through your orgasm. She buries her face into your neck, her hot breaths against your skin.

"I want you again, doll." She emphasizes it with another forceful thrust.

On cue, your walls clamp around her again–a broken whine leaves your lips as she circles her hips before resuming her punishing pace.

And for a split second, you saw her eyes dart to your belly–her icy blue eyes darkening as her other hand presses against–

You throw your head back against the pillow while a wanton moan rips from her lips.

You're bulging with her cock.

"Feel me there, darling?" She pants as she moves her hips like a well-oiled machine, "Feel me deep in you, hm?"

You can only reply with a pathetic whine as she relentlessly fucks her throbbing cock in you. Your shared fluids ooze out and drip down to her sheets, making a wet mess. A cruel grin breaks past her lips as she chases another quick oncoming orgasm–and by the consistent vacuum of your walls–you're just as far gone as she is.

Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump!

Said the headboard against the wall as Carla mercilessly plows into you, chasing her release until her cockhead splits, releasing richer ropes of her semen as it locks inside you–penetrating your cervix.

A broken sob leaves your lips as she jogs her hips, her hands greedily pulling you closer as her cum transitions from blanks to potent, and heady with life.

Finally, she stills her hips as she pumps her warm, fertile cum inside you, painting your walls white as she looks at your lower belly–heavy with your mixed concoctions.

Her icy blue eyes look down at your puffy folds and smirks.

"We'll run some tests later on our new... findings." She purrs, "See if it's enough to leave you with a mini-me."

[talesofourworlds]

Okay, I think it's time for some test muses. Just to see how I like writing them before I add them to the blog for real.

Genis!

Moses! (Plus Giet!)

Elize! (Plus Teepo!)

And...

Velvet!

Yeah, I decided against Spada, Shigure, and Mao for the time being. Maybe in the future, though!

So anyway! If you want a test muse starter, hit the like button I guess! Or shoot an ask at one of them.

[vecnawrites]

RAFFLE!

Do You Like My Pure Girl Series?

Is There A Girl You Want To See Cynthia Fuck?

Then This May Be Your Lucky Day!

A New Series Is Coming, Called “Pure Fun Studios Presents…”!

These are basically Cynthia’s Porn Movies, that I write out with “Co-Stars”.

Now, I have a list of them that I am going to do, but I am opening a raffle! If you want to see a story for yourself, think up a porn scenario of your choosing, and pick a costar you want Cynthia to bang.

Depending on how many entries I get, there may just be one winner, there may be multiple. It all depends on the amount of traction and ideas submitted!

Now, some characters are going to sadly be banned for this, mainly because its an actual canonical part to the AU, so a lot of characters wouldn’t make sense in one way or another. If you want a banned character, it will have to be in a normal ask!

Banned Characters Include:

ANY of the Beacon cast. If they go to school, they’re automatically out. They cannot be students and members of a porn cast, people!

This goes for the exchange students as well, like Arslan, Neon, Reese, Cinder, Emerald, etc.

Glynda Goodwitch is out, since she’s a teacher at Beacon.

Winter Schnee is in the Military at the moment.

Raven Branwen is out, she’s currently running a bandit camp and depending on placement in the timeline, she’s on Cynthia’s shit list

Honestly, if they interact with Joan on a daily basis at Beacon, they’re not allowed.

What This Means:

However, this ban on pretty much the whole of the RWBY cast give you a great option to bring in other characters, ones from other anime and games, minus a few, like Rumi/Miruko from MHA (she’s Velvet’s half sister in this AU)! This is to help me get into using other muses, as well as make it so Cynthia doesn’t just fuck one of the same three people in every porn shoot!

Banned Multiverse Characters (Already In AU, Wouldn’t Star In Porno):

Tsunade Senju (Naruto)

Angela Zeigler (Overwatch)

Lusamine (Pokemon)

Rumi Usagiyama/Miruko (My Hero Academia)

What I Need:

One: I will need your idea/synopsis of the scenario, as in, the basic set up, setting, and the sex acts you want to see (Doesn’t even need to be much, Like I came up with the first one with simply “Cheerleader/Sports Captain, Locker Room Sex” and went from there)

Two: I need the costar’s name (with a reference, or at least from what they are from so I can track down a picture, so you don’t have to put a picture in the ask)

Three: I need to know if you want to be nominated in the “Credits” (you can be anonymous if you don’t want anyone who gets on your computer/uses your phone to know you submit smut), and your AO3 handle, if any, so you can get a proper credit for the idea.

This raffle will be done at the end of February, so you have time to think of your ideas and ensure they are what you want, but don’t test your luck waiting! If I go several days or more without someone sending an idea in (between five and seven), I might end up assuming that I’ve gotten them all!

Send them in my inbox, and I will copy them all over and when the day comes when I close and then do the raffle, I will let you all know the winners!

…

Also, it should go without saying, but I will put it here as well: if I won’t write it in a normal ask, I’m not going to write it in a porn movie setting! Nothing I wouldn’t accept in a normal ask!

[rose-vybe]

SUNSET

Hello everyone! Here's another shortfic based on a Tumblr prompt from @starsmadeinheaven . My muse likes these short things as of late and even though I've made a series on AO3, it seems they're kinda too short so I'll be posting here mainly.

“I wonder, am I truly safe here?” Carriedo asked with a casual tilt of head.

He was standing by the large stone window, seemingly contemplating the bustling crowd in the street below. There was sun in his hair, tinting his dark curls and glowing onto his tanned skin. Dressed like a mere merchant save for the crimson ribbon holding his locks into a long, loose ponytail, he looked clean, and proper and honest – everything he was not.

Lovino crossed his arms, only half-facing him, his back turned at the lively view. “It is a public library,” he said flatly.

If anything, he was good at being stern, and looking the part too. He may not have had quite his father and his brother’s head for business, but he certainly had the stomach and the steely resolve to deal with what they would not. So here he was, straight-backed, all black velvet with no adornments save for an austere silver cross around his neck.

“I don’t know if I should trust that you won’t pull out a dagger and gut me, even in front of all these honest men,” the Spaniard shrugged. “In all my life I’ve met many dangerous fellows, and I daresay dealt with them. You, signor Vargas, must be one of the worst. You know, I saw you in church the other day, with your family. You… appeared like a very pious, innocent young man, but I have seen that you are a fiend.”

Was this godawful pirate trying to aggravate him? Lovino could guess what the man was saying - that he was in truth nothing like his family. Not kind, not cheerful, not a patron of arts, not inclined to beauty and good spirit. Only, he knew that to face the world one needed not cheer and birdsong, but grit and a touch of ruthlessness.

“Your servants are still alive.”

Carriedo laughed, and he was much too beautiful when he did, his smile too bright, his eyes too gemlike in the dwindling rays. Lovino inhaled sharply, making an effort to hold his gaze and not to visibly swallow the knot in his throat.

“Your quarrel wasn’t with them, after all. You knew they were only there to test your skill. Anyway… what are you really going to do about it?” he asked, motioning towards the ledgers open onto the nearby table. “Your family tried to cheat me out of a lot of money, how do you plan to sort it out? My merchandise-”

“But it wasn’t your merchandise, was it?” Lovino hissed, leaning forward. With the corner of his eye, he spied some curious glances coming their way and did his best to keep his composure and his voice in check.

“But I got my hands on it,” the pirate pointed, keeping his voice low in turn. “And once I get my hands on something, it’s mine.”

Lovino did not want to think of that. Or of the man’s hands.

He turned around at last and glanced in the distance, over the low rooftops, to where the water was visible in the distance. It was interesting, how the sky became suddenly green and the sea a weird shade of pink, glinting faintly under the setting sun.

“Mr. Carriedo, as fearsome as you might be out there, amidst the high seas, in this city you don’t have much leverage and you know it. My father is not considering paying the full price, absolutely not. But we could facilitate an expansion of your distribution channel. Maybe. But if you insist on a compensation-”

“You will compensate me.”

Lovino blinked, opening his mouth to state the contrary, but his wrist was captured without warning and he was pulled towards the other. His reflexes kicked in, all his muscles suddenly taut at the danger, and the hidden blade slipped from his sleeve and into his grasp, being pointed at Carriedo’s throat in the blink of an eye.

“Dios mio, qualquier hombre perdia su cabesa por ti…” the Spaniard murmured, his green eyes shining with mirth.

The bastard!

“You don’t seem that scared though,” Lovino observed dryly, tilting the blade a little closer.

Carriedo continued to hold the wrist of his free hand, doing nothing to avert the dagger nearly touching his collar. The grip of his fingers was light, almost gentle, even as he pressed his thumb into the younger’s pulse point.

“Surely not as scared as you are. You asked me here, where you thought you’d be safe with so much people around, and you still came armed to the teeth. You have more of these, don’t you? And yet, no matter how much steel, it’s not enough.”

Damn him! His words poured, like honeyed wine, drowning Lovino in his own vulnerability. Much too soft, much too sweet.

“Of what?! Of you, signor Carriedo?” he almost spat through gritted teeth, lifting his chin.

The Spaniard’s smile only softened further. “Of yourself. Of who you really might be beyond all this darkness – a man who wants to live, to take even one free breath, not a mad hellhound to be unleashed upon the enemy at his master’s convenience, distained and getting but meagre scraps off the table.”

Lovino blinked, his mouth impossibly dry, his lips pressed much too tightly, barely drawing enough air. His hand only fisted around the handle of the dagger, struggling to keep it steady in the onslaught of pure anger. Only, he was something else entirely beyond the darkness, and wondered with fright whether this wretched man could glimpse it too, and bring about his absolute ruin.

“You don’t know anything-”

“What do I not know? Your father could have sent one of those ordinary assassins for this job, since he has no real desire to negotiate. I have killed many men, I have plunged my blade into their flesh with no qualms whatsoever, he knows it too well and he still sent you.”

Lovino forced a deep breath and the corners of his mouth into a grin. “If you harm me here, all the compensation you can expect will be a noose around your neck. And if you know me so well, then you can imagine that a mad hellhound like me has no taste for crafty words!”

With that, he lowered the dagger and yanked himself free from the pirate’s grasp. He became aware that some of the people around had been staring at them rather pointedly and he sighed, annoyed.

Carriedo pulled back in turn, crossing his arms and bowing his head. “Lovino, of course I will not harm you here. But your father is a thief, so he will either pay me or he’d better hire an entire army, lest I harm him and his whole family, elsewhere.” When he looked up, his eyes were suddenly sharp and predatory. “Two million.”

“That is four times what we-…!”

Lovino looked away, out the window, at the darkening horizon. Clouds gathering, tinged purple. Foolishly, he wasn’t afraid anymore. Not of a fight, whatever the outcome.

“We are gentlemen, after all. If you still have a grievance, despite what we offered, the two of us could duel.”

He knew it wasn’t much of an offer but his father was stubborn, and much too bold for his own good. ‘I am not a gentleman, and I will kill you’ he expected the other to say, but Carriedo just picked up his ledgers and collected them to his chest calmly, entirely unhurried.

“Tell your father to pay me the two million, signor Vargas,” he said serenely. “And quickly, before they become four. Oh, and-…” he stopped in front of Lovino and leaned in, his nose nearly brushing the younger’s ear. “It would have been only one if you hadn’t drawn the knife on me, querido.”

[d-z20]

Resistance is Futile (NSFW)

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: Agatha and Rio have claimed you as their pet but you're not going down without a fight and are defiant to their advances. The two witches are undeterred and keep trying, knowing they'll break you eventually

- OR -

They've finally grown tired of your reluctance, they fuck you with their magic strap-ons until you can't think (or walk)

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, Top Agatha, Top Rio, Pet Reader, dub-conish, reader refered to with she/her pronouns, magic straps, magically enhanced orgasms, voyeurism, breeding, marking, degradation, praise, magical restraints, Agatha and Rio are dark in this universe, kind of stockholm syndrome, overstimulation, possession/ownership, throat fucking, cum as lube, maybe more who knows

Words: 4.4k

A/N: So in my head the magic straps in this are like similar vibes to Celestial Agatha in What If so you know: gay and powerful. It's easy to see how Rio got Agatha pregnant. Fic req

AO3 | Masterlist

You were not going to make this easy for them. That much was clear. The long, shadowed corridors of Agatha’s lair feel like a prison, but you don’t care. No, your defiance is all you have left—the only thing that gives you any semblance of control in a world where you are nothing more than their possession, their thing, their pet.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself to survive.

Agatha’s eyes follow you as you pace, her gaze calculating and predatory. Rio sits at the table, arms crossed, her sharp smile never wavering. Their attention feels like a weight pressing against your skin, heavy and suffocating, like predators waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

“You think you can defy us forever?” Agatha asks, her voice low and honeyed, sliding under your skin like a blade. “You think you can stay strong in this cage of your own making?”

You stop in your tracks, meeting her gaze with fiery resolve. “I’m not your pet,” you spit, defiance simmering in your voice.

Agatha chuckles, rich and dark, the sound curling through the air like smoke. “I’ve seen stronger wills break under pressure. Yours will too. Just wait.”

Her words are a subtle threat that lingers in the air, but you refuse to let her see the sting. “We’ll see,” you mutter, arms crossing over your chest as if to shield yourself from the weight of her gaze.

Rio’s grin widens as she leans forward, her sharp eyes studying you like a puzzle she’s dying to solve. “You know,” she muses, her voice smooth as silk, “you make this so much more fun than it needs to be. But I think you’re wrong about one thing. You are ours.”

—

Days bleed into weeks, and every moment feels like a war. They test you constantly. Punishments come as sharp reminders of your place—subtle and precise—but they’re always followed by praise that’s just as cutting. Agatha’s actions are cruel and calculated, leaving you trembling with exhaustion but too stubborn to yield. Rio’s methods are softer, more insidious, sinking under your skin like an itch you can’t scratch.

“I’ve seen stronger witches than you fall apart,” Agatha muses one evening, her fingers tracing the sigil that glows faintly on your wrist. The magic embedded in it burns, sparking through your veins like electricity, and you barely manage to suppress the flinch. “What makes you so special?”

You refuse to scream; you won’t give them the satisfaction.

“This supposed to break me?” You sneer, voice shaky but defiant. “Because it’s not working.”

Her lips curl, amusement dancing in her sharp eyes. “You think you’re strong? Maybe. But strength is nothing without control.”

Rio stands in the doorway, her dark eyes gleaming with curiosity. “She’s right,” she says, her voice velvet and steel. “Strength alone won’t save you when you’re as lost as you are. But you could find control... with us.”

You scoff, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. “I don’t need either of you.”

But the look they exchange, the promise and challenge flickering between them, makes your chest tighten.

—

A week later, they come to you together. Agatha’s magic is constant, clinging to you like smoke, pervasive, and invasive. Rio’s touch is gentle yet commanding; her movements slow and deliberate, as though she’s teaching your body how to respond to her. You hate how easily it works.

It begins with something small. Agatha’s fingers brush over the curve of your neck, just enough to send a shiver down your spine. “So defiant,” she purrs, her voice a dark promise. “But I see cracks in your armour.”

Your breath catches, and you hate yourself for it. The pressure of their presence is overwhelming, making your head swim. Rio steps closer, her hand lightly brushing against yours, her grin dangerous and knowing. “Maybe we’re getting somewhere after all.”

—

The next night, they return. Agatha’s magic binds your movements, a reminder of the power she wields over you. Rio removes the physical restraints, her hands steady and deliberate, as though she’s peeling away the layers of your resistance. You fight, struggling against the invisible force that holds you still, but it doesn’t stop them.

And for the first time, you start to wonder if you even want them to.

It’s late when the breaking point comes. You stand in front of them, all your defences stripped bare, the cracks in your resolve widening by the second. Agatha’s gaze is unwavering, sharp enough to pierce through every wall you’ve built.

“You can��t keep hiding from us,” she snarls, her voice low and commanding, threading through you like a spell. “You’re ours. The sooner you accept it, the sooner we can turn pain into pleasure.”

Your head shakes, but there’s a tremor in your voice you can’t mask. “I’m not yours.”

“You are.” Her words are a whisper, a command, and they press down on you like a weight you can’t escape. Your knees weaken, and you gasp, overwhelmed by the sheer power of her presence.

Rio steps closer, her hand curling around your arm in a grip that’s both firm and comforting. Her touch sends a shiver racing through you as she tilts her head, her voice a soft murmur. “Stop fighting it. Stop pretending this isn’t what you need.”

Their proximity is suffocating. Your body trembles with desire, with the ache of something deep inside you finally breaking free. The walls you’ve spent weeks fortifying come crumbling down in a single moment.

“Please,” you whisper, your voice cracking under the weight of surrender.

Agatha’s lips curve into a slow, knowing smile. She steps forward, her hand settling at the back of your neck, her fingers cool against your skin as she pulls you toward her. Her kiss is slow and deliberate, a claim that leaves you breathless. The taste of her is intoxicating, and it leaves you reeling.

Rio’s laughter is soft and low as she moves behind you, her hands settling on your hips. “There she is,” she muses, her lips brushing the shell of your ear. Her teeth graze the sensitive skin, sending a jolt through your body that makes you curse under your breath.

“Fuck you both,” you manage to hiss, but the heat in your voice betrays you.

Agatha pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Such a sharp tongue,” she says, almost to herself, as if considering how best to silence it. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

With a flick of her fingers, magic courses through you, curling around your wrists and pulling them above your head. The force isn’t rough, but it’s unyielding, holding you firmly as glowing tendrils bind you in place. Your pulse pounds as Agatha steps back, her eyes raking over you like she’s admiring a masterpiece.

Rio’s hands slide to the hem of your shirt, and with a whispered word, the fabric disappears, leaving your skin bare and exposed. Her palms are cold as they trail over your stomach, her nails scraping lightly against your ribs.

“Is this supposed to impress me?” You snap, though your voice is breathless and uneven.

Rio laughs again, the sound rich and dark. “No, sweetheart,” she purrs. “This is supposed to ruin you.”

Agatha’s magic shifts again, a tangible wave of heat brushing against your skin, making you arch involuntarily as it settles low in your abdomen. Her fingers move through the air, weaving invisible patterns, and you feel it—a phantom touch tracing up your thighs, teasing, testing. Your breath hitches, and you tug against the restraints, hating the way your body reacts to the sensation.

“You’re trembling,” Agatha observes, her voice silk and steel. “Tell me, pet—are you afraid? Or just desperate?”

“Go to hell,” you snap, but the words sound weaker now, edged with something you don’t want to acknowledge.

Rio’s hands move lower, her touch firm as her fingers hook into your waistband. Another muttered spell, and your clothing vanishes completely, leaving you bare under their gaze. Her nails rake lightly against your inner thigh, drawing a shudder from you that you can’t suppress.

“Look at her,” Rio murmurs to Agatha, her voice heavy with satisfaction. “So defiant, but her body knows better.”

Agatha steps closer, her hand ghosting over your chest, her magic lacing every movement with electricity. When her fingers brush your skin, it’s as if she’s leaving a trail of heat in her wake, her touch deliberate and possessive. “Let’s see how long you can keep up this act,” she says, her voice low and commanding.

You’re trembling now, every nerve alight as their magic weaves through your senses, blurring the line between pain and pleasure, control and surrender. Every touch feels amplified, every breath stolen, until all you can do is cling to the last threads of resistance—and even those are slipping through your fingers.

Agatha’s magic pulses, a living thing coiling around your body, dragging sensations across your skin that feel like whispers and lightning all at once. Her lips are back on yours, devouring, commanding, and pulling you deeper into her orbit. The taste of her is heady, and it leaves you reeling, your legs trembling as if the floor beneath you has given way.

Behind you, Rio’s hands continue their slow, maddening exploration. Her fingers dig into your hips, grounding you just enough to keep you teetering on the edge. Her mouth is at your neck now, lips pressing hot kisses against your skin, teeth grazing the sensitive spot that makes you gasp.

"Such pretty sounds," Rio mumbles, her voice dripping with amusement as her hands slide down, teasing at the edges of where you want her most. "And you’re trying so hard to hold back. It’s adorable, really."

Your jaw tightens, but your body betrays you, hips twitching under her touch. “I hate you,” you breathe, though the words lack conviction, each syllable faltering as Agatha tilts your chin up to meet her sharp, knowing gaze.

“Hate?” Agatha repeats, her tone mocking as her thumb traces along your jaw. "No, pet, what you hate is how much you want this. How much you need it."

Her words settle over you like a weight, and the truth burns. You jerk against the glowing binds holding your wrists above your head, but the magic only tightens, pulling you taut and vulnerable between them. The heat of Agatha’s magic licks over your skin, and your breath hitches as the phantom touch returns—this time teasing higher, brushing against your inner thighs in a way that makes you bite back a whimper.

“Such a stubborn little thing,” Agatha muses, her fingers brushing over your chest, her nails scraping lightly. "But look at you now—shaking like a leaf, your body begging for more even while you try so hard to keep that sharp tongue of yours.”

Rio’s hands press against your thighs, urging them apart, her touch firm and deliberate. "Let’s see if we can help her find her manners,” she says with a smirk. “Think we should ruin her properly this time?”

Agatha hums in agreement, her magic shifting in intensity, winding tighter around you. The phantom sensation becomes sharper, more precise, brushing against your sensitive clit, drawing a cry from your lips that you can’t suppress. Agatha’s smile widens. “Oh, darling. That wasn’t so hard, was it? Let’s hear more.”

You stutter out a curse, but it dissolves into a gasp as Rio’s mouth finds the curve of your shoulder, her teeth leaving marks that send heat racing through your veins. Her hands, firm and demanding, leave no part of you untouched, tracing patterns down your sides, across your stomach, and lower still.

“Such a mess,” Rio murmurs, her voice heavy with satisfaction as her nails rake over your thighs, making you jerk. “You’re dripping, sweetheart. Just admit it—you like being our plaything.”

“Fuck—fuck you,” you stammer, though the heat in your voice betrays you, every word trembling with desperation.

Agatha laughs softly, the sound rich and dangerous, her magic surging in response. The phantom touch turns relentless, teasing, and tormenting, and you arch involuntarily, a broken moan spilling from your lips. Your knees buckle, but Rio’s hands are there, steadying you, holding you exactly where they want you.

“That’s it,” Agatha purrs, leaning in to press her lips against the corner of your mouth. “Let go, pet. Let us take you apart.”

Rio’s fingers find you again, slipping between your thighs with devastating precision, and your head falls back against her shoulder as your body betrays you completely. “There she is,” Rio murmurs, her voice a low growl in your ear. “Knew you couldn’t hold out forever.”

Your breath comes in ragged gasps, the world spinning as Agatha steps closer, her hands cupping your face to make you meet her gaze. “Look at me, Y/N,” she commands, her voice leaving no room for disobedience. “I want to see the moment you break.”

You can’t fight it anymore. The sensations are too much—the heat of their touch, the pull of Agatha’s magic, the way Rio’s fingers work you with merciless expertise. Your body trembles violently, and you cry out, shattering under their combined efforts.

But they don’t stop.

Agatha’s magic shifts again, coaxing another wave of pleasure from you before you’ve even recovered from the first. Rio’s hands are unrelenting, her touch alternating between rough and gentle, keeping you on edge, leaving you helpless against the onslaught.

“Pathetic,” Rio says, her tone gleeful as she watches your body twitch and tremble. “Completely undone. Aren’t you, sweetheart?”

You try to respond, but all that escapes is a broken moan, your voice cracking as your knees finally give out. Only the magical binds and Rio’s grip keep you upright as Agatha’s lips brush against your ear. “You’re ours, Y/N,” she whispers, the words sinking into your very core.

With a flick of her fingers, Agatha adjusts the magic holding you in place. The binds shift, no longer just keeping you upright but suspending you in midair, as if resting on an invisible bed. The sensation is strange but oddly comforting, the magic cradling your weight effortlessly. Your arms remain bound above you, leaving you completely exposed.

Rio moves to stand by your head, her fingers brushing a stray strand of hair from your damp forehead as she smirks down at you. Meanwhile, Agatha positions herself at your feet, her glowing eyes raking over you as though admiring her handiwork.

Agatha’s smirk grows as she steps closer, her fingers glowing faintly with her signature purple magic. “We’ll start slow,” her voice a soft caress, though the wicked glint in her eyes promises anything but gentleness. Her hand slides between your legs, her touch precise and knowing, and you can’t stop the sharp inhale as her fingers begin to work you open.

“Relax, pet,” she whispers, her voice low and commanding, as her other hand moves to your thigh, holding you steady even as the magic does most of the work.

At the same time, Rio hooks her fingers under your chin, tilting your face up to meet her gaze. “Open,” she orders, her tone leaving no room for disobedience. You hesitate for the briefest moment, but the commanding heat in her eyes makes resistance futile. Slowly, you part your lips.

“Good girl,” Rio purrs, her magic flaring as A glowing, dark strap materializes at her hips. Without hesitation, she guides herself into your mouth, her grip firm as she sets a punishing pace. The sensation is overwhelming, the stretch and weight of her filling you completely as Agatha’s fingers curl inside you, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through your body.

“You’re taking us so well,” Agatha coos, her tone mocking yet almost affectionate. Her thumb brushes over your sensitive bundle of nerves, her movements deliberate as she stretches you open. “See, Rio? She’s learning her place.”

Rio hums in agreement, her hips rocking forward, forcing you to take her deeper. “She’s a quick learner,” she mutters, her tone dripping with amusement. “But I think she can do better.” Her hand tangles in your hair, holding you steady as she thrusts into your throat, her breath hitching with each movement. The magic allows her to feel everything, and her low moans of pleasure send heat pooling low in your stomach.

Tears prick your eyes, and your throat protests, but you push through, the weight of their control pressing down on you until you’re trembling under their combined attention. Agatha’s fingers curl, hitting a spot inside you that makes you cry out around Rio, your body jerking in response. Rio groans, the sound rough and needy as her hips stutter, the magic amplifying every sensation as she pushes herself closer to the edge.

Her breath hitches, and a deep, guttural moan escapes her throat as she pulls back abruptly. “Fuck,” she rasps, her voice breaking with raw need as her strap pulses in your mouth, just shy of her release. She withdraws with a deliberate slowness, her eyes dark with satisfaction as she grips the base of her strap.

Rio circles you with slow, measured steps, her predatory gaze dragging over your trembling form as she moves to stand by Agatha. “Switching places for a moment, darling,” she smirks as she traces her fingers along your calf. Agatha just chuckles, her magic flaring as her own glowing strap begins to materialise at her hips, its sleek, enchanted form matching the dangerous glint in her eyes.

With a shuddering exhale, Rio begins to jerk herself off, her movements slow at first but growing more desperate as her climax quickly builds again. The room fills with the sound of her ragged breaths and low, throaty groans, the raw need in her voice making your own pulse race. As her release finally hits, a long, drawn-out groan tears from her throat. Her body trembling with the intensity of her orgasm as she cums all over your pussy. “A little something to make things easier for you, darling.” Rio says after a moment, her voice husky as she steps back, her satisfaction evident in the smug grin curling her lips.

“How thoughtful of you,” Agatha chuckles, her hand aligning the tip of her strap against your entrance, which was now dripping with a mix of your arousal and Rio’s cum. “Let’s see how well our little pet takes it.”

The stretch is slow and deliberate as Agatha pushes into you, the slickness making it easier, though no less overwhelming. She fills you completely, her hips moving in slow, devastating thrusts that leave you gasping and trembling. “That’s it,” she whispers, her hands gripping your thighs as her rhythm builds. “Take it all. Good pet.”

Rio’s eyes glint with hunger as she watches, arms crossed and shoulders relaxed as though she isn’t buzzing with anticipation. Her lips curl into a sly smile as Agatha sets the pace, each thrust precise and devastating. "Look at her,” Rio remarks, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Already such a mess. She’s perfect like this. Just for us."

Agatha’s answering laugh is low and sultry, her grip on your thighs tightening as she drives into you with more force. Each movement sends jolts of pleasure tearing through your body, amplified by the hum of her magic. She leans down, her breath warm against your neck, and you feel the sharp graze of her teeth. A shiver runs through you as she bites down, hard enough to leave her mark.

“She needs more,” Agatha purrs, her voice laced with wicked amusement. “Doesn’t she, Rio?”

Rio hums in agreement, stepping behind you. Her hands glide over your trembling form, possessive and firm as she tilts your head back, exposing your throat. "Let’s make sure she doesn’t forget who she belongs to," she hums, her lips brushing your ear before sinking her teeth into the sensitive skin just above your collarbone. The sharp sting pulls a broken moan from your lips, and you feel the curve of her smile against your skin.

“Tell us who owns you,” Agatha demands, her voice sharp and commanding as she drives into you with unrelenting force. Her magic courses through you, burning in all the right ways, overwhelming your senses until you’re teetering on the edge of another orgasm.

“Y-you,” you stammer, the word barely a whisper as your body trembles under her onslaught.

“And?” Her pace quickens, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.

“Rio,” you gasp, tears streaking your cheeks as your release builds, unbearable and all-consuming.

Agatha hums in satisfaction, her movements growing rougher as her own breath hitches. The magic connects her to every sensation—the friction and heat dragging a deep, guttural moan from her throat. “Good girl,” she groans, her voice strained with pleasure. With a particularly deep thrust, she sends you tumbling over the edge. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum tonight, as a fresh climax hits with an intensity that leaves you sobbing, the pleasure tearing through you until you’re left trembling, every muscle quivering with aftershocks.

But Agatha doesn’t stop. She presses deeper, drawing out every last spark of sensation, her own shuddering release building as she feels you clenching around her. An almost feral growl escapes her as her hips snap forward in one final thrust, her movements stilling as you feel her twitching inside you, magic amplifying the waves of her release. Her grip tightens on your thighs, her nails digging into your skin as her body shudders against yours.

When she finally pulls back, her breath comes in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as she stands tall, a smug, satisfied smirk curling her lips. “Mine,” she murmurs, her voice heavy with possession, as her fingers trail over the fresh marks she’s left on your skin, her touch lingering like a brand. A slick, warm sensation follows as her release drips out of you, a vivid reminder of the claim she’s just staked.

Rio steps forward then, her hands sliding up and down your trembling thighs, her touch deliberate as if savouring every inch of you. She hums softly, her lips quirking in amusement as she watches Agatha’s cum trickle down. “Messy,” she remarks with a low chuckle, her tone almost mocking.

Leaning in, Rio gathers it on her fingers and pushes it back inside you, her grin widening as you gasp at the intrusion. “Can’t let that go to waste,” she purrs, her tone thick with satisfaction.

Only then does she line herself up fully, her hands gripping your hips tightly as she thrusts into you with brutal precision. The pace is relentless from the start, her hips slamming against yours in a rhythm that leaves no room for reprieve.

“Fuck, you take my cock so well,” Rio growls, her head tipping back as she buries herself in deeper. Her pace is relentless, each movement sending fresh waves of pleasure crashing through you. Her nails dig into your hips, and she drags you back against her, forcing you to take her deeper still, making you cry out in pleasure. “I thought you were defiant,” she mocks, her voice dripping with dark amusement. “And yet, now you’re practically begging for it.”

All you can manage is a broken moan, your body arching into her as the pleasure blurs the edges of your thoughts. Every thrust leaves you gasping, every scrape of her nails and bite of her teeth reducing you further. Rio leans down, her teeth grazing your shoulder before biting hard enough to make you cry out. "That’s right," she murmurs, her voice low and rough. “You’re ours to ruin.”

Her movements become erratic, her breaths ragged as she slams her hips into you, every twitch of your already overstimulated cunt pushing her closer to the edge. “Fuck,” Rio hisses, her voice breaking as her hips snap forward, her own release tearing through her with a force that leaves her trembling. She holds you tight, her head dropped back in pure ecstasy, a rough groan escaping her throat as the magic amplifies every pulse and throb of your body around her.

Rio doesn’t pull out immediately, instead grinding her hips against you, dragging out the sensations until both of your bodies finally stop twitching. Her chest rises and falls heavily, and she leans forward, pressing a possessive kiss to the curve of your shoulder before straightening and calling over her wife. “Come here, my love.”

She adjusts her position, kneeling between your legs, her hands firm on your thighs as she spreads them wider to give Agatha a clear view. “Look at this,” she says, her tone dripping with amusement as she watches their combined release trickling from your thoroughly used body. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

Agatha’s sharp eyes gleam with approval as she steps closer, her lips curving into a satisfied smirk. “Absolutely perfect,” she purrs, crossing her arms as she leans in slightly, watching intently as Rio moves between your legs.

Rio’s tongue flicks out, her movements slow and deliberate as she begins to ‘clean you up,’ her warm, wet strokes collecting every drop of their cum. The sensation is unbearable, the overstimulation pushing your body past its limits as each pass of her tongue sends sharp jolts of pleasure and pain coursing through you.

“P-please,” you stutter, your voice cracking, but your plea only earns a low chuckle from Rio as her hands tighten on your thighs, holding you in place.

“Shhh, pet,” Rio whispers against your skin, her breath warm as she continues her slow, torturous movements. “We’re not done until we say we’re done.”

Your body jerks under her attention, the overstimulation finally cresting into another peak that crashes through you with devastating force. Your release hits like a thunderclap, leaving you sobbing and trembling as Rio licks you clean, her tongue never missing a single drop.

By the time Rio is finished having her fun, you’re a trembling, stuttering mess, every shred of resistance melted away. They’ve undone you completely, your body and mind utterly spent. As Agatha waves a hand, the magical restraints dissolve, and you slump forward, only for Rio to catch your limp form.

“Good girl,” Agatha affirms, her voice soft yet laced with smug satisfaction as she strokes your hair.

Rio hums her agreement, her arms tightening around you as she presses a kiss to your temple. “You’re ours now,” she whispers, her voice filled with possessive pride.

And in the haze of pleasure and surrender, you don’t argue.

-----

I told myself I'd get the next chapter of Neighbourly Care out before New Years but then this fic possessed me. Oh well, if I managed to get my degrees by writing everything the night before I can certainly do the same for my fics 😤😤

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Taglist: @danveration @aceday @alwaysharmony @idkwhatever580 @sunshine-makes-flowers-grow @gbab09 @vigilante24ish @marvelwomenarehot0

[lady-of-moths]

The Weight of Desire (Alucard x OC)

Summary: Training session with Alucard gone infuriatingly and deliciously wrong.

Alucard x OC; not explicit but also NSFW; teasing; power-play; Alucard being a menace

Word count: 2,250

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Tags: @v4mp1r1cs

The moment Reyna hit the ground, she knew she had lost. The sword clattered from her hand and out of her reach. Trying to retrieve it was hopeless; in an instant, Alucard was upon her, his weight pressing her into the warm dirt, his chest barely inches from hers. Her wrists were wrenched over her head with tremendous strength, nimble fingers wrapping around them in an unbreakable grip. His other hand found its way under her head and twisted in her hair, pulling harshly to tilt her head back and bare her throat to him. 

His long locks cascaded over his shoulders, a silky curtain that tickled her skin and shaded them from the world. His eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, the look in them cold and sharp. His brows furrowed. His nose scrunched into a snarl. He was so close she could feel his breath on her skin as he spoke. 

"Never," he murmured, "ever let a vampire this close.” A warning. His voice low and baleful—predatory—as he bared his fangs. 

She huffed softly, her breath uneven. Her heart was hammering in her chest as she gazed into his eyes. She was mesmerised. She knew what he was trying to teach her. And yet… all she could think of was how breathtaking he was up close—his golden eyes intently set on her, peering from beneath the long dark lashes; his skin, smooth and pale as moonlight; his fangs, sharp and menacing, glinting just beneath his lips… and oh, those lips…

Alucard could feel her pulse beneath his fingers, racing so hard he could even hear it. The erratic rhythm beneath her skin, the way her breath picked up, the utter silence. She was trapped. Helpless. Prey. 

She knew that vampires were dangerous—that he was dangerous—but with the way his hips pinned hers so deliciously, his fingers wrapped around her slender wrists, and the way his voice had dropped so low, so dark, smooth as velvet…it was not fear coursing through her veins. 

It was all too much. Too close. Too—

“Alucard, stop,” she tried to command, but her voice wavered when it shouldn’t. His grip on her wrists tightened. Her breath hitched. Her fingers flexed and she tugged half-heartedly at his grip, rather testing his hold than trying to escape. 

“Please,” she tried again, her voice soft and small. 

Alucard stilled. A plea. Soft. Trembling. He knew that sound—had heard it before, countless times. Humans begging for mercy. His eyes narrowed, head tilting slightly. “A vampire won’t let you go just because you’re scared,” he deadpanned.

“I’m not scared,” she spat out. Her? Scared of him? Is that what he thought of her? Of her faith in him? Reyna took full offense at his statement.

“Lying doesn’t suit you, little sparrow.” 

She glared at him. “I’m not lying!” 

“Oh, you’re not?” he mused, raising an eyebrow. “Then why’s your heart pounding like it’s about to burst?”

Reyna huffed indignantly. She wouldn’t lie to him, but answering this truthfully was certainly no option either. 

Alucard hummed in thought. Calm. Unbothered. “You’re not scared,” he echoed, “then what are you?” 

Reyna pursed her lips and hummed in defiance. Her hands twitched in his grip, but to no avail. Her gaze turned from his, straining to see the world between the flowing locks of golden silk. The sky, the trees, the ruins around them—anything and anywhere but him. She absolutely refused to look at him. 

"Tell me," he continued prodding, but she only shook her head. 

His fingers tightened in her hair, steering her to face him. From the back of her throat came a small, strained sound. It terrified her how much she was enjoying this—how much she enjoyed being trapped beneath him. But he could never know. 

Alucard’s gaze was fixed on her, and he would have her admission. “It’s only natural, really,” he continued. “It's instinct. There’s no shame in it.” 

Her brows furrowed, the look in her eyes sharp enough to pierce steel. “I’m not scared, you moron! I’m–” But the words died on her tongue; she’d almost let it slip. Her skin was growing warmer by the second, and she swallowed hard. 

“Oh?” His brows perked up with interest as he scanned her face, a small grin forming on his lips. She bit her lip. His eyes were trained on her, carefully taking note of every tell-tale sign; her every shifting gaze, her every little twitch, every tremble in her voice. He was on to something and he knew it—she could hear the slyness in his voice. 

Reyna thrashed in his grip, huffing and groaning from the strain, but it was no use—Alucard was an immovable mountain and kept her down effortlessly. 

“Come now, little sparrow,” he cooed, enjoying their little game. “You must tell me now.” 

He shifted a little, allowing more of his weight to rest on her—a reminder of how she was trapped, with nowhere to go. But in shifting his weight, he’d also made her aware of exactly where his thigh was pressing. With a strangled and indignant noise, Reyna stilled. Heat crawled up her neck, spreading like wildfire. 

Alucard took note of this. A hypothesis formed in the back of his mind, and he would test its merits. “I’m waiting,” he urged her playfully. 

“Please don’t make me say it…” she begged, her voice barely above a whisper.

His lips parted slightly, fangs flashing as he leaned in closer. “And why is that?”

Reyna huffed in defiance. “Just get off me, you menace!” 

Alucard hummed, as if weighing his options. “No. I don’t think I will,” he teased. “Not until you’ve answered my question.” He tugged at her hair and shifted his thigh against her, ever so slightly, so seemingly unaware. Her eyes widened. Her lips fell open in a silent gasp. He could feel her body grow rigid against him. He watched with amusement as her face flushed the loveliest shade of pink. His fingers flexed loosely against her scalp now. A wicked grin tugged at his lips as he reiterated. “If you’re not scared,” he drawled, “then what are you?” 

There was an impish look on his face as he looked at her; that grin of his too much for her to bear. Reyna tried to look away, to squeeze her eyes shut—anything to not look at him, but he would not have it. A tug on her hair, a squeeze of her wrists, an extra bit of his weight pressing her firmly into the ground, and he commanded her attention. Her pulse was erratic. The heat in her face had crept up to the tips of her ears, threatening to burn her alive. And Alucard could feel it all. He was enjoying it. Savouring it. 

She grit her teeth and squirmed beneath him, only to be painfully reminded of the sinful ache between her thighs. She stiffened instantly, tense as a wire. Shame, fear, and desire blended into one, threatening to consume her. And he knew. She could see it in his damnably smug face. 

“For fuck’s sake, Alucard! Don’t make me say it!”

Alucard blinked. Then smiled. “That bad, huh?”

“You suck,” she grumbled. 

“And you,” he laughed softly, “are avoiding the question.”

Reyna groaned, tugging at her wrists. “Piss off!”

“Well,” he crooned, voice sweet as honey and dripping with mischief. “If you won’t say it…”

His grip on her hair loosened just long enough to lull her into relief before he yanked on it—hard—wrenching her head back and baring her throat completely. He shifted with the motion to meet her gaze, and ground his thigh against her. Her back arched. Her lips parted. And the involuntary sound that passed her lips that moment was devastatingly and unmistakably—not pain. 

Alucard’s breath caught. 

Reyna’s eyes flew open. Mortification flooded her senses as she realized exactly what had just left her mouth.

There was silence. 

Then… A slow, indulgent chuckle. 

“Oh?”

Alucard’s smirk was sharp as a blade. His eyes gleamed, triumphant and proud and… not quite done yet. His grip on her hair eased. Testing. Letting his fingertips gently graze her scalp… Then tightening again. The strain made her shudder. Another sound slipped from her lips before she could catch it; a sweet, strained sound—more mewl than yelp.

“Oh,” he purred, drinking in her embarrassment like the finest of wines.

Reyna wished the sun would consume her. 

His hold on her loosened, his smirk stretching wickedly. “There you go,” he lilted mirthfully, as if he’d just done her a favour. “Now you don’t need to say it.”

Reyna prayed the earth would just swallow her whole. She grumbled softly between gritted teeth, her voice barely audible. Alucard grinned. “What was that, little sparrow?”

“I hate you,” she repeated herself, though she knew she didn’t mean it. 

That dastardly smirk grew. “Do you though?” He wasn’t buying a word of it.

She scowled and swerved her head from him. “Yes.” Her teeth grinded, her face afire with a blend of rage and shame. 

“I don’t know,” he mused, tilting his head and shifting his gaze as if genuinely pondering the notion, “that didn’t sound like hatred just now.” 

Reyna glared daggers at him. “Alucard, if you don’t let go of me right this fucking instant, so help me—”

Alucard chuckled, finally releasing her wrists and untangling his fingers from her hair. He sat back just enough to give her some room, but not before very deliberately shifting his thigh against her.

Reyna inhaled sharply, going rigid. Her rage had almost—almost—made her forget her mortifying shame. She cursed him for reminding her of it—for torturing her deliciously—and she cursed herself because she just couldn’t bring herself to hate it. 

Alucard’s grin was positively wicked as he rose to his feet, lithe and graceful as always. “Shall we continue?” he asked lightly, offering his hand.

Reyna glared at it. Then at him. She smacked his hand away and rolled onto her side, scowling at the dirt. “…I really hate you.”

He crouched beside her. There was a sense of schadenfreude about him as he beamed with unmistakable delight. “Oh, Reyna,” he murmured, voice dripping with satisfaction, “no, you don’t.”

She smacked her forehead against the ground, muffling another groan. “I do,” she gritted out. “I really do.”

Alucard hummed in mock consideration. “Hate is a strong word.”

Reyna lifted her head just to glare at him. “Not strong enough.”

“Mm. And yet…” His smirk deepened. “You were just writhing underneath me a moment ago…” he trailed off. 

Reyna froze, her breath caught in her throat. 

Alucard hummed slowly, lowly, and rubbed his chin as if in thought. “Quite eagerly, I might add,” he added, almost absently. 

Reyna shot up so fast she nearly knocked heads with him.

“You—” she started, voice caught between outrage and the deepest chagrin.

Alucard tilted his head. His eyes gleamed as he pointed a finger at himself, a feigned innocence over his face. “Me?”

“Yes, you!” She jabbed a finger at him. “You are just…insufferable!”

His smile curved into a grin. “Oh, I do try.”

Reyna closed her eyes and inhaled sharply, fisting her hands at her sides. “Alucard,”she hissed, “I swear to God—”

“I think God has rather little to do with this,” Alucard mused, tapping his chin. “Although, if you’d like to pray—” he shrugged. 

Reyna was fed up with his shit. She lunged at him. He dodged effortlessly, his laughter light and entirely too pleased as he sprang to his feet. 

Reyna scrambled up too and pointed her finger accusingly. “I hate you.”

“Yes, yes, we’ve been over that,” he shrugged casually, waving his hand. 

“I loathe you,” she insisted. 

Alucard hummed softly, tapping a finger against his lips, as if in thought. “Doesn’t quite match the way you were just moaning for me…”

Her eyes went wide. The nerve of this man. The audacity! She grit her teeth and dove for the nearest weapon, a dagger stuck in a grass tuft. Alucard caught the weapon midair with his usual grace and ease, chuckling at her. “Such passion,” he mused, twirling the blade effortlessly. “I must have made quite the impression.”

Reyna clenched her fists. She was seething. But there was not much else she could do about it… 

“You are the worst.”

Alucard’s eyes remained on the dagger as he continued to spin it lazily on his fingers. “And yet,” he said calmly, “you keep coming back.” His eyes snapped to meet hers, a sinful smirk curling on his lips. “Curious, isn’t it?” 

Her mouth opened. Shut. A muscle twitched in her neck. Then, without another word, she turned on her heel and stormed off.

Alucard blinked, the dagger forgotten in his hand. “Where are you going?”

“Away,” she shot back.

"Reyna!” he called after her, his voice laced with laughter.

She raised a hand without turning. “I am leaving before I fucking kill you!”

Alucard chuckled, smooth as honey, as he watched her walk stride off. And Reyna—gods help her—hated how much she loved the sound of it… 

“Well,” he called after her, “if you do return, shall we go over grappling techniques next?”

Reyna continued on her way, refusing to dignify his offer—tempting though it was—with an answer.

Alucard grinned. He knew she’d be back. And he was looking forward to it. 

[stargurl8888]

Mirage

"Maybe she is the illusion. But she is also the only thing that has ever felt real/"

Word Count: 950~

Genre: Romance, Drama, Sensuality

Content Warning: Suggestive themes

Synopsis: In the neon-lit depths of Tokyo, where reality blurs into fantasy, you find yourself entangled with Minatozaki Sana—a woman who moves like a mirage, always just out of reach. Between stolen moments and whispered secrets, you chase after something ephemeral, something you’re not sure is even real. But when the night draws you into her world, you realize that some illusions are worth believing in—if only for a little while.

✨✨✨✨✨ ⎯⎯ ⏳🌌🔄🌠🔄🌌⏳ ⎯⎯ ✨✨✨✨✨

The city hums like a living thing beneath your feet, neon lights casting illusions on wet pavement, shimmering like a mirage. There’s something about Tokyo at night that feels almost unreal—a dreamscape of fleeting moments, like sand slipping through fingers. It suits her.

Sana.

A name that lingers like an afterimage, like the echo of laughter down an empty alley. She moves through the world as though she’s never fully there, slipping just out of reach, just beyond your grasp. But tonight, she’s close. Closer than she’s ever been.

You meet her at 37th Avenue, where the city blurs into something more than reality—something between illusion and desire. A place where she waits, leaning against the railing of a rooftop bar, the skyline painting gold against her skin. She smiles when she sees you, but there’s something unreadable in her gaze.

“Did you think I was a mirage?” she teases, voice smooth as velvet, dripping in amusement.

You shake your head. “I knew you’d be here.”

Her fingers, cool from the night air, brush against yours. “Good.”

Sana is a contradiction—soft yet sharp, distant yet devastatingly present. She draws you in with a look, with the way she tilts her head just so, exposing the column of her throat, an invitation without words. You’ve learned, by now, that she speaks in gestures more than sentences, in glances more than confessions.

You order drinks, but neither of you pays them much attention. Not when her thigh presses against yours beneath the table, not when her lips quirk up in a secretive smile, eyes flicking down to where your fingers rest between you.

“You always look at me like that,” she muses.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re trying to decide if I’m real.”

You are. You always are.

Sana exists in layers, slipping between personas with an ease that is almost theatrical. On stage, she is untouchable, a goddess draped in starlight, a vision that belongs to the world. But here, with you, she is something else entirely—something softer, something less perfect and more devastating.

She leans in, her breath warm against your ear. “You should stop thinking so much.”

Then, before you can protest, she pulls you to the dance floor. The music thrums through your veins, bass vibrating in your ribs. Sana moves like the night itself, fluid and intoxicating, her hands skimming the lines of your body, a barely-there touch that sets your skin ablaze. She’s teasing, testing, waiting.

So you do what she wants.

You close the space between you, hands finding the curve of her waist, drawing her closer until there’s nothing left between you but heat and longing. She hums in approval, her fingers sliding up to tangle in your hair, nails scratching lightly against your scalp. The sound she makes when you pull her against you is enough to send your pulse skyrocketing.

Her lips brush against your jaw, just shy of where you want her most. “Still think I’m a mirage?”

You grip her tighter in response, and she laughs, delighted, victorious.

There is something addictive about her, something that keeps pulling you back no matter how many times you swear you won’t. Because Sana doesn’t belong to anyone—not really. She is the moon reflected on water, always there but never yours to hold.

And yet, tonight, she stays.

The penthouse is on the 37th floor, and she drags you there with the ease of someone who’s already decided how the night will go. The door clicks shut behind you, and suddenly, the air feels heavier, charged with something unspoken. Sana backs you against the wall, eyes dark with something unreadable.

“I want to hear you say it,” she whispers, fingers tracing slow patterns along your wrist. “That you want this.”

Your breath catches, but you don’t hesitate. “I do.”

Sana smiles, but there’s something tender in it, something real.

Then she kisses you.

It’s slow at first, deliberate—lips pressing, parting, tasting. Her hands move like she’s memorizing every inch of you, tracing constellations against your skin, mapping out places only she is allowed to find. The world outside ceases to exist. There is only the press of her body against yours, the intoxicating scent of jasmine and rain, the quiet gasps that fill the space between kisses.

Her lips trail lower, over the curve of your jaw, down the slope of your throat. She takes her time, tasting the warmth of your skin with a deliberate slowness that makes your head spin. When she pulls away, her eyes are lidded, her smile knowing.

“You’re real,” she murmurs, breath fanning against your collarbone. “That’s the problem.”

Her fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt, grazing bare skin, sending a shiver down your spine. The anticipation coils tight in your stomach as she traces slow patterns along your waist, fingertips dipping lower, teasing, testing. She watches you through hooded eyes, waiting for your next move.

You reach for her in response, guiding her toward the bed, the city lights flickering against the glass like distant stars. She lets you, sinking into the mattress with a soft sigh, her hair splaying out like silk against the pillows. You hover over her, hands trailing the curves of her body, relishing the way she arches into your touch.

The night stretches on in whispered confessions and lingering touches, the line between dream and reality growing thinner with every breathless sound, every press of lips, every stolen moment. And when the morning light filters in through the curtains, painting golden patterns across her skin, you realize the truth.

Maybe Sana is a mirage.

But she is also the only thing that has ever felt real.

And for tonight—for this moment—that is enough.

PART OF A SERIES OF ALTERNATE UNIVERSES SOUTH PARALLEL: 37

[densesindealer]

I'm Begging For Asks

This is the page of the things I’m currently in the mood to write, if I’m not begging for asks of things I want to write here’s where you can see what I’m in the mood for. 

Each series will be in bold, I would accept any characters from that series in asks or prompts. The characters listed below each series are the characters from it I would like to see the most, but they aren't required for asks or prompts from the series itself.

Any muse labeled with (Gender Transformation) are characters I will only accept in a genderbent ask, or in asks involving the character having their gender transformed as a part of the story.

If none of the male muses are calling to you, crossover asks are allowed if you want to put someone with Makoto Naegi from Danganronpa, which seems to be a common thread for my blog. Like Makoto Naegi x Rosa from Pokemon. This can also include crossovers like Jaune Arc from RWBY x Mirko from MHA.

Also to note is that as of now, with how much of them are in my inbox, I'm not accepting asks involving Danganronpa characters, with the sole exception of crossover asks involving Makoto as the male muse.

The last note to make here is that I will temporarily be accepting asks and prompts involving anonymous characters, or original characters provided they aren't self inserts. I will also accept asks and prompts of monsters like slimes, and other beasts. This means asks involving a character such a an original villain with mind control powers for My Hero Academia would be accepted, or a gang of thugs or villains for DC or Marvel comics would as well. Along with stories involving hilichurls or slimes from Genshin Impact, or something like the grimm from RWBY.

This is a temporary test to see how I feel about it, I make no promises that it will remain that way. It's dependent on how I feel when writing these stories.

My Hero Academia

Izuku Midoriya

Momo Yaoyorozu

Tsuyu Asui

Mina Ashido

Kinoko Komori

Nejire Hadou

Bubble Girl

Mt. Lady

Midnight

Mirko

La Brava

Eraserhead (Gender Transformation)

Harry Potter

Harry Potter

Cho Chang

Lavender Brown

Hannah Abbott

Susan Bones

Lily Luna Potter

Narcissa Malfoy

Pansy Parkinson

Rose Weasley

Sirius Black (Gender Transformation)

Cedric Diggory (Gender Transformation)

AI: The Somnium Files

Kaname Date

Mizuki Okiura

Aiba

Shizure Kuranashi/Boss

Ace Attorney

Phoenix Wright

Ryunosuke Naruhado

Trucy Wright

Ema Skye

Mia Fey

Gina Lestrade

Zero Escape

Sigma Klim

Alice

Clover Field

Dio (Gender Transformation)

Percy Jackson

Percy Jackson

Hazel Levesque

Piper McLean

Thalia Grace

Aphrodite

Hestia

Scooby-Doo

Shaggy Rogers

Daphne Blake

Fred Jones (Gender Transformation)

RWBY

Jaune Arc

Blake Belladonna

Velvet Scarlatina

Winter Schnee

Neopolitan

Coco Adel

Ilia Amitola

Cardin Winchester (Gender Transformation)

Lie Ren (Gender Transformation)

Mortal Kombat

Johnny Cage

Cassie Cage

Kitana

Sindel

DC Comics/Arrowverse/Teen Titans

Richard Grayson/Robin/Nightwing

Oliver Queen/Green Arrow

Miss Martian

Cheetah

Zatanna

Black Canary

Raven

Blackfire

Jinx

Stargirl

Supergirl

Nyssa al Ghul

Terra

Cheshire

Marvel Comics/Agents Of S.H.I.E.L.D.

Peter Quill/Star-Lord

Peter Parker/Spider-Man

Leo Fitz

Daisy Johnson/Quake

Lady Sif

Mantis

Kitty Pride

X-23

Susan Storm

Gwen Stacy

Black Cat

White Tiger

Black Widow

Genshin Impact

Aether

Lumine

Keqing

Paimon

Ganyu

Yoimiya

Raiden Shogun

Yae Miko

Fischl

Mona

Barbara

Persona 4/5

Yu Narukami

Akira Kurusu

Yukiko Amagi

Margaret

Lavenza

Sae Niijima

Hifumi Togo

Pixie

Cybele

Succubus

Morgana (Gender Transformation)

Yusuke Kitagawa (Gender Transformation)

Takuto Maruki (Gender Transformation)

Code Geass

Lelouch Lamperouge

Cornelia li Britannia

C.C.

Cecile Croomy

Guilty Crown

Shu Ouma

Inori Yuzuriha

Infinite Stratos

Ichika Orimura

Chifuyu Orimura

Tabane Shinonono

Tatenashi Sarashiki

Cecilia Alcott

Super Crown/Super Mario Bros

Bowsette

Rosalina

Booette

Shy Gal

Undertale

Muffet

Temmie

Five Nights At Freddy's (All Animatronics Are Female)

Michael Afton

Circus Baby

Toy Chica

Roxanne Wolf

Lefty

The Puppet

Springtrap

Kingdom Hearts/Disney

Sora

Aqua

Namine

Xion

Larxene

Mulan

Elsa

Go Go Tomago

Violet Parr

Tifa Lockhart

Yuffie Kisaragi

Pokemon

Hypno

Rosa

Elesa

Cynthia

Lusamine

Hilda

Akari

Irida

Professor Sada

Magma Admin Courtney

Perrin

Overwatch

Hana Song/D.VA

Echo

Ana Amari/Ana

Amelie Lecroux/Widowmaker

Resident Evil

Ethan Winters

Eveline

Mia Winters

Bela Dimitrescu

Dragon Ball

Android 18

Cheelai

Vados

Macarita

Kusu

Towa

Supernatural

Sam Winchester

Ruby

Lilith

Buffy The Vampire Slayer

Xander Harris

Faith Lehane

Cordelia Chase

Drusilla

Gravity Falls

Dipper Pines

Pacifica Northwest

Candy Chiu

Tambry

Lies Of P

Pinocchio

Eugenie

Youngest Of The Black Rabbit Brotherhood

Sophia

Tales Of Arise

Alphen

Shionne

Kisara

Rinwell

Misc Characters

Toph Beifong (Avatar The Last Airbender)

Wednesday Addams (The Addams Family)

Modeus (Helltaker)

Shego (Kim Possible)

Draculaura (Monster High)

Ankha (Animal Crossing)

Marceline The Vampire Queen (Adventure Time)

Serana (Skyrim)

Mavis Dracula (Hotel Transylvania)

Ranni The Witch (Elden Ring)

Nezuko Kamado (Demon Slayer)

Lola Bunny (Looney Tunes)

Samus Aran (Metroid)

Palutena (Kid Icarus)

2B (Nier Automata)

Velvet Crowe (Tales Of Berseria)

Kink Interests

Mind Break

Mind Control/Hypnosis

Brain Draining

Bimbofication

Gender Transformation

Cock Worship

Maledom/Femsub

Instant Loss