#as a way of consuming their sins so they could go to heave

[anantaru]

DAY 31 — drunk sex

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — dan heng, jing yuan

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, drunk syx, nipple play, lots of teasing, clothed syx, messy making out, both parties are consenting

𖧡 — DAN HENG

your boyfriend dan heng was always beautiful— but to tell the truth, whenever he was magnified with a light shading of pink covering the expanse of his cheeks, it suited him very well. and it's hot when you close the distance between your frames, it's sweaty and you were aware that the obvious stickiness and mess in between your bodies pressed against each other, was greatly amplified by the copious amounts of alcohol you had consumed earlier this night.

dan heng breathes out a shaky exhale when you both grind and fondle with your bodies, even though the alcohol was pumping steadily through your veins, making the experience a little different with the obvious smell of booze persisting inside the humid room— it's still so desperate though, and for some reason it almost felt like an aphrodisiac you had consumed earlier that made you be all over each other in such ways.

he grips your hips tight, fingers digging into the soft skin as he rolls his erection forward with one, fast snap, both groaning into each others mouth at the welcoming penetration— sweet and sinful desires churning inside your darkened eyes when he drives quick, shallow thrusts against your pussy, enough to drive you damn near insane. 

"you have no idea how much i needed that," dan heng admits as he murmurs between lingering kisses, smiling faintly against you as he notices a happy hum of a laugh vibrate through his darling lips, "i could barely wait— ah, to get out of there,"

and like muscle memory, he trails his length along the sweet spots of your cunt the moment you confess back to him— angling his hips so precisely so he'd stretch you out all open and nicely, dragging and conquering the sheer tightness of your walls.

𖧡 — JING YUAN

"one more, ‘more kisses," jing yuan slurrs his words into your neck before darting out his tongue to lick the flat of the wet muscle over the sensitive skin, gratified to feel your quickened pulse beneath his careless touch— and as a matter of fact, the general wasn't particularly someone who'd oftentimes drink alcohol, nor overdo it for that matter.

while tonight you had both decided to go out for a couple of drinks, nothing to celebrate, it all started as an innocent date— well, only to come stumbling home, wildly entangled falling against the mattress as you're making out with each other like two starved beings unable to be separated.

fierce need burns through his eyes when he laps from your collarbones to your tits, "look at me," jing yuan murmurs at you with one finger firm on your jaw to turn your face down on him playing with your mounds, your clouded, drunk expression greeting him immediately— on top of that, he leisurely rolls his clothed erection into your warmth before noticing how you're soaked, your face and body so hot that jing yuan got alarmed and worried you'd end up melting under him.

"i love you, jing yuan," you babble lowly, an involuntary tribute under your words while breathing hard, nearly destroyed by lust, trembling at the very edge and hoping he would touch you properly as you roll your hips up into his thudding groin— his mouth latching on to one nipple now when you bite back a whine, his sealed mouth choosing to wrap and suck on the sensitive skin.

"i love love love love you you," you bat your lashes all sweetly at him and oh, it's immediate, the effect of your words and showcase how very much jing yuan was adoring those high pitched noises slipping from the tip of your tongue right now, it's heavenly music to his ears whenever you were so vocal about the love you harbored for your boyfriend.

you hitch back a breather when he catches one peaked nipple with his wandering fingertips as he squeezes his erection against you harder, your heaves catching at the visible shudder of arousal crumbling against your wet panties, falling apart under him as you squeal within an airy laugh as he playfully bites down at one nipple, your needy cunt spasming around nothing.

"i love you too," he drawls back, eyes gently blinking up at you and feeling how you're sneakily pitching your hips up at him, your chest breathing and both whining slightly when he meets your shimmering eyes with his own handsome ones, "so, so much."

©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[kermitkrqb]

Catch me if you can || Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: Told myself I wasn’t going to write anymore fan fic but here I am 😋…. I’m starting to realise I have a thing for tall and blonde villains.

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow likes to chase, fem!reader likes to be caught, established relationship, predator/prey dynamics, public sex, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it folks), praise.

Here’s a taste of the fic:

“The sight of you running away further stokes the sinful desire building up in his chest. You’re wearing a long white dress with a sweetheart neckline, the very picture of innocence. How he’d love to ruin you.”

MDNI: By clicking read below, you are responsible for the media you consume.

Coriolanus’ voice echoed around the woods, urging the birds to flee, “If you come out now, I’ll go easy on you…I promise.” A lie, one that you had once fallen for before. Coryo, was always so pent up after chasing you, the adrenaline fuelling him as he had his way with you- rough and unforgiving. Every single time. Your thighs subconsciously squeeze together at the thought, but you were on a mission here. Don’t get caught…for now. You’re light on your feet, tip-toeing across the forest floor, ignoring the pulsing need in between your legs and crawling up your spine. Much like the man chasing you, you liked to drag out the chase. Although he was much stronger and faster, you had found ways around that. Often finding ways to stall or catch him off guard before he inevitably claimed his prize, you found that it was always worth the wait.

Peering out from behind the thick tree, your eyes scanned the area around you. The woods seemed endless, splotches of brown and green merging together the longer you looked. It was eerily quiet. You shuffled around the tree trying to get a better sense of your surroundings, when you feel the weight of a small branch snapping underneath your foot. The snap seemed to echo, and you had no doubt that Coriolanus was onto you. Rustling in the distance is heard before you see a tall and broad figure emerge from one of the bushes, his eyes glinting with excitement as he takes in your flushed and nervous state. You feel the air leave your lungs before you snap out of your trance and begin to run. You almost regret wearing a dress today, the length of its skirt has you almost stumbling to muddy ground beneath you. Though, you both know it’s for easier access.

The sight of you running away further stokes the sinful desire building up in his chest. You’re wearing a long white dress with a sweetheart neckline, the very picture of innocence. How he’d love to ruin you. It doesn’t take long for Coriolanus to catch up to you, he could practically already feel you in his arms. The two of you stumble into a forest clearing, circling around each other, chests heaving from adrenaline. The cocky bastard smirks at you, “Ready to give up, dove?” A smile adorns your face, seemingly innocent at first as you evade his question, “I really like this dress you bought me Coryo. It’s really pretty,” you twirl but are wary enough to keep a safe distance, “…so pretty in fact that I chose not to wear anything underneath it at all… I didn’t want to distract from the dress of course.”

His eyes widen slightly, jaw clenching as he takes a moment to register your words. Your body moves before your mind can catch up, bringing him back to reality as he watches you sprint away once more. Coryo begins to chase after you with a renewed vigour, grinning to himself in victory as he catches the back of your dress, pulling you backwards and towards him. His muscular arms circle around your waist as you wriggle against him, your plump ass unintentionally grinding against his now apparent bulge. Coriolanus is now manhandling you, bringing you towards the nearest tree. He presses your front against the tree, your cheek turned to the side so you can catch a glimpse of what he is doing. The familiar feeling of the rough bark against your skin excites you. His hands circle your wrists as he pins your arms up, caging you in as he now purposely presses his crotch against the swell of your ass, mimicking the act of fucking you, “Caught you.”

You let out a pathetic whimper as he continues to press himself against you, his eyes watch you with amusement and lust. Coryo mocks you, “Already can’t speak? I haven’t even started yet…” He lets go of one of your arms and it stays there as you cling onto the tree. He pushes your hair away from your neck and starts to trail rough kiss below your ear, sure to leave a mark for the ones that have faded. A soft whine leaves your lips, “Coryo please…” The tall blonde ignores you before pulling away slightly, he whispers into your ear, “Patience is a virtue.” You scoff at him, “You’re no saint.” You feel him smirk against your sensitive skin, “Maybe…but that doesn’t stop you from chanting my name like one.” Before you can reply, he flips you around to properly face him before getting on his knees, you spread your legs apart before he asks you to as he hikes up your dress, “Good girl… now hold on to your skirt for me.” You feel yourself pulse at his praise and fight the urge to squeeze your thighs together. Your shaky hands hold on to the skirt of your dress, partially shielding your vision of him.

True to your words, Coriolanus is faced with the sight of your bare cunt, glistening with desire. He trails a long finger across your wet folds, grazing your clit slightly. Your legs tremble and he smirks, “Is this all for me, darling?” He doesn’t wait for a response before beginning to lap you up with his tongue, pressing it flat against you before using the tip to circle your bundle of nerves. You let out a strangled moan, cheeks burning with embarrassment despite the fact that you’re both in the depths of the woods. He eases a finger into you, curling it upwards and hitting that sweet spot, your knees buckle slightly but he grips onto you with his free hand. Soon enough, one finger turns into two, and two turns into three as he stretches you out in preparation for him. You’re just about to reach your peak when he suddenly withdraws his fingers from your core and stands up from his position.

“Why’d you stop, I was so close…”, your words of protest quickly die down as he unbuckles his pants. His length springs up against his stomach, hard and pulsing, twitching slightly as pre-cum leaks from the pretty pink tip. Coriolanus uses this and some of the left over slick on his hand to stroke himself before lining up with your centre. You can’t help but stare. He hikes up one of your legs, letting it circle around his hip as he pushes into you. Instinctively your arms wrap around his neck, clinging on to him as he bottoms out inside of you. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust, setting a rough and unforgiving pace as he keeps a firm grip on your hips that would surely bruise later on. A series of moans and grunts leave our lips as he repeatedly thrusts into you. The slight curve of his length pressing into your sweet spot again and again.

Coriolanus’ hands are everywhere he can touch, he’s tugging down the neckline of your dress, palming at your breasts whilst nipping marks across your collarbone. Despite still being clothed, you’ve never felt so exposed as he fucks into your wet heat. The fact that anyone could stumble across the two of you has you clenching around him. You can’t help but wonder what you’d do if someone saw you in this vulnerable state. Would you push Coryo off of you? Would you let them watch? Maybe you’d even let them join the both of you… You snap out of your trance after a particularly sharp thrust, Coryo snapping his hips against yours harshly and he brings a hand down to where you are each connected. His thumb rubs harsh circles around your clit and you clench around him, “Coryo ‘m close…please.” Coriolanus isn’t too far behind, you notice in the way his thrusts become slightly sloppy and how he grips onto you tighter, “Be a good girl and come for me.”

You do as he says, your walls fluttering around him as he’s spearing you open with his length. Soon thick ropes of come shoot into you, some of it dripping down your thighs as warmth envelopes you. Coriolanus goes limp, chest heaving with exhaustion as his length softens inside of you. He doesn’t let you go, holding you against the tree as you both catch your breath. A peaceful quiet remains as you stroke his hair lovingly as he leaves doting kisses in the crook of your neck. He breaks the silence, you can feel his cheeky smile against your skin, “Maybe next time, I should bring some rope to tie you up.”

A/N: no bc this evil man has me kicking my feet nd giggling in bed

[noa-ciharu]

Alternatively: fyosig + 36

fyosig + "please don't leave me behind"

Post Meursault, angst, hurt/questionable comfort, religious symbolism, sort of brainwashed Sigma

- - - - - - - -

Last thing Fyodor expected is to be tracked down in the back of beyond, much less by Sigma.

Peculiar indeed. But warranted reason for alarm? Not so much, or at all if he's to be candid. After all Sigma did read all his memories, not too implausible to presume he put wits to good use and figured out his whereabouts on very own. Impressive Fyodor had to remark - if not served as an immaculate litmus test. Not necessarily of Sigma's capabilities and lengths he's willing to go, those are nothing groundbreaking. But of Sigma's irrefutably wheedled decision - spoke of all darkest hues he managed to smear on the once blank canvas.

Dozen seconds ticked by in suspensive silence. Sigma stared at him with those vacant yet fiery eyes, at sixes and sevens. Fyodor didn't rush him anyhow - best to give Sigma illusion of freedom, although judging by how spent he looked Fyodor assumed that by this point Sigma can see through all of his smokes and mirrors.

Accented inhale. Tone eerily flat. Simultaneously clash of emotions and none at all on features - "I know everything"

Of course he does. That came as no surprise; what did is that Sigma felt the need to remind him of that. Fyodor crossed legs, tipped head and offered a meak smile Sigma should know by now serves just to disarm. "So you do", affirmed Fyodor while staring right up into oddly unguarded eyes. "But you've surely didn't come all the way here to tell me just that" - surely there's an ax to grind, but judging by confusion flashing over Sigma's twisted face it's not too far fetched to assume he's knocked out for six.

So no, not even Sigma himself knew why he sought him out. Itch for him became hardwired - no matter how much Sigma fought the newly found impulse he needed him like oxygen to breathe. Akin to moth to the flame Sigma will always be draw to the one that burned the life he used to know to the very ground.

"I..."

Pause followed by couple stressed sighs. Lips twisted and quivered, chest heaving in dire struggle for breath, eyes snapped shut with force that had to sting - inner conflict was manifest. Much to his credit Fyodor kept expression impassive; best to neither insult via glaringly fake consideration nor unnerve via brutal honesty. Considering everything Sigma went through in his memories this level of lucidity was to be applauded instead.

Frowning Sigma clasped both sides of his head and groaned - "Ugh, my head feels like a mess", kneaded forehead and huffed, likely wishing to cast away his presence from mind - futile endeavor, by this point he was engraved in every fiber of Sigma's being. Like clockwork he admitted just that - "Ever since that cursed day I couldn't get you out of my mind"

Your curiosity had a price tag on it, Fyodor wished to wise off but kept poke behind teeth. No need to fan the flames, especially when Sigma was on the brink of cracking; nothing but an empty shelf of former self. Greed got the best of him. In accordance, his freedom was clipped away. Every sin calls for a punishment, just because he didn't take over Sigma's body didn't mean there aren't other ways in which he can consume a greedy soul whole.

Sigma took a step backwards; then wobbled forwards, subliminally drawn by him and him only. "Your presence has engulfed me", heavy breath, foggy eyes, skin unhealthily wan - perplexed like this Sigma painted rather drained picture. Child's play to forge into a perfect weapon, however Fyodor knew a prod too firm could topple fragile mind pass the point of return - if he's to take this one into his embrace he'd need to thread carefully for regular manipulation would no longer cut it. By this point it's not even a matter of whether Sigma would take his hand or not, just when he'd realize caving in is inevitable.

"Gosh, what have you done to me?!", snarling Sigma paced back and forth; rocked throbbing head between arms and tried to soothe himself; to no avail. "No matter how much I try", sharp inhale, Sigma threw head back and combed fingers through hair; likely pucked out few strands from stress alone. "I cannot stop viewing life from your twisted perspective"

Ah, there it is, symphony to his ears. "That's a given", snickered Fyodor, allowing ounce of sadism to seap onto surface; insulting to keep the mask of benevolence after Sigma drank in his every cruelty. Thence Fyodor let devilty touch smile, in contrast kept tone mellow - "After all you've never taken in that magnitude of information" so it's only natural I tainted your sense of identity to the point where you cannot distinguish your thoughts from mine.

For a split second Sigma looked at him like he's not even human - no, not a devil either but something divine that transcends life itself. Atypical sure considering he never elicited anything but fear or anger in that timid yet assertive gaze, but also not surprising. Sigma's life divided in before and after; this one in front of his eyes is the fool who let the devil in on that faithful day; as result lost himself. In spite of godlike ability God he's not, merely one bestowed with His mission of bringing harmony to the entropy. But for Sigma's entranced eyes Fyodor would gladly become one.

In an instant reverence evaporated, leaving nothing but spark in weary eyes that surely would be rekindled. "I know you're up to no good", Sigma hissed and glared, but jab lacked the bite; crystal clear he's desperately clinging to last threds of life he used to know. Biting inside of mouth Sigma rewarded him with another meak scowl, only spoke volumes of how torn he's inside. "I know you'll inevitably end up using me again", accusation yet it came off as more of a wail.

Smart man, that Fyodor had to give it to him; but again foreseeable considering Sigma knew him down to the wire now - quite the strange sensation Fyodor had to admit, however nothing to lose sleep over; upper ground is still and forever will be his to claim. Transitory he toyed with idea of deception; promising Sigma to never lead him on again. With a shrug opted out of it. "It'd be insulting to lie to you after everything", explained Fyodor inaptly lightly considering gravity of the topic. "After all you are the one who knows me the best", flashing a roguish smile he finally stood up and strode towards his unwilling worshiper.

Rather than flinching or showing disdain Sigma appeared strangely relieved for a heartbeat by their close proximity - as if subliminally craving his presence, tactile presence, after being exposed only to indoctrinating memories. "And in spite of all that...", thin voice, head bent low. Sigma squeezed eyes and heaved. "I wish I could hate you", went off the tangent. "But I'd be hating myself in process" - because separating 'you' and 'I' is no longer feasible.

For a second Fyodor weighted the idea of patting Sigma's shoulder and consoling; not even as a part of deception but merely to have him calm down. Much to Fyodor's surprise Sigma beat him up to it - curled arms around Fyodor's frame, shoved coat down shoulders, cried out and threw himself in his embrace.

Ah, so you do have it in you to take me off guard. Silent sobbing, light shaking; hard to tell if Sigma burst in tears but definitely was distraught. Despite being stunned Fyodor found himself smiling; knew right away this one is hopelessly trapped in his web of lies - ironically constructed of nothing but truth, but with mind distorted beyond remedy Sigma couldn't distinguish own projections from reality.

"I know it's pointless to demand sincerity from you", faint hush, Fyodor more felt his chest move than heard the words, nonetheless could tell exhaustion and anguish in tone. In turn he embraced back; hummed into crown of Sigma's head and combed fingers through hair, just to coax Sigma into revealing more.

"But can you promise me one thing?"

Even if I do, how could you ever trust a word of a liar? By this point Sigma should know better than anyone else to expect honestly from him, admitted so himself moments prior - yet like a fool still held onto hope. If there's one thing Fyodor found admirable, albeit sinfully foolish about humans it's how unbreakable their spirits are - surely entertaining, but far and in between were ones worth his while.

Rather than offering any response Fyodor just chuckled; kept on caressing the trembling frame, privately savoring warmth of another human being in his arms - in all sincerity forgot how touch void of malicious intent even feels. Closing eyes he pressed lips against Sigma's temple. After this I won't let you go even to very death itself.

"Whatever you do please don't leave me behind ever again"

[a-world-of-whimsy-5]

Could I please request some modern Thranduil smut? 🔥🔥 I don't care what about ❤ thank you so much

Hello! I hope you don't mind that I picked one of my prompts for this.

Pairing: Modern Thranduil x Fem. Reader (second person POV) | Prompt: Golden

Themes: Smut (lemon) | Soft

Warnings: Kissing | Explicit language | Use of nicknames | Early morning sex |Spanking | Dirty talk | Penetrative sex | Cream pie

Word count: 900+ words

Summary: What happens when curiosity gets the better of you, and Thranduil is woken up just after sunrise? 

Rating: 🔥🔥 | Minors DNI | 18+ | You are responsible for the media you consume.

The rising sun limned the world in shreds of pure gold. Towers great and small looked golden and glorious, as if they had been taken from a painting.

Thranduil paid no mind to it. His attention was on the more pleasurable diversion at hand. His hair spilled over his shoulders like golden silk. His arms shook from exertion. His eyes glittered in the rays of the rising sun. And he heaved over you, ripping a gasp out of you by smacking your thigh.

"Open your eyes," he orders icily. "I want you to look at my face while I fuck you."

You obeyed, letting out a soft moan when he snapped his hips against the insides of your thighs. "But it’s so hard," you protest, "and you feel so good. Can I please close my eyes a little?"

Thranduil responded with another sharp smack that sent electrifying jolts lickings up your spine. "Obey me in this. There," he coos when you open your eyes and look at him. "That’s it. Keep your eyes on me, my needy little kitten, and I will reward you."

He gave you no time to even breathe when he captured your lips with his. Thranduil groaned into your mouth when your nails raked down his shoulders and your heels dug into his back, as if you were urging him to go harder. The sheets had been thrown from the bed because they got in the way, as had the pillows. The bed itself creaked softly in time with his thrusts, and the sinful sounds of jagged breaths and skin slapping against skin rose to drown it out. Thranduil laughed when you fussed about having to keep your eyes open.

"It's your own fault," he retorted, "for waking me up so fucking early by playing with my cock. Now you must suffer the consequences."

Another sharp gasp ripped through you when he reddened your thigh with the flat of his palm. Upon your moan, Thranduil hissed, "Harder?" 

Yes. Yes. Yes. That was what you said, like a desperate chant, a plea for more. Thranduil let out a deep, otherworldly sound. 

"Look at you," he purrs against your ear, "yielding so easily to my touch and surrendering eagerly to my will." 

Thranduil smirked and rewarded you all the same, his hand working in time with his thrusts. Your flesh grew red and tender. You had brought it on yourself, letting your curiosity best you that morning. Having woken up before sunrise,  you ran your hand over Thranduil's exposed body, marveling at how perfect he looked even while he slept. Your hand glided over his soft lips and softer hair and hardened muscle, before sneaking under the coverlet and gliding over his cock. Thranduil had moaned and mumbled in his sleep. You grew bolder still, stroking his length slowly and gently, feeling smug when it swelled and hardened for the warmth of your palm. Thranduil whimpered and moved onto his back. You continued to stroke him, wondering if he would like being woken up like this, with you pleasuring him. You didn't stop until the room had grown eerily still and you turned to face him. He had woken up and was watching you, his eyes ablaze, his lips tugging at the corners. 

Now you were paying for being too curious for your own damn good. And you enjoyed it. White-hot jolts of ecstasy rippled through you every time he spanked a little harder and grabbed your thigh, your hip. His nails left little red indents in their wake. Every time you moaned, every time you arched your back or dug your nails into his skin. Thranduil would fuck you a little faster, go a little harder, a little deeper. And you were being pulled with the tide into a dark tunnel of desire, your velvety walls fluttering and tightening around his thick shaft. Wave after wave of bliss rippled through your body even as he kissed you, his tongue slipping past your parted lips to delve into the sinful warmth of your mouth. He sighed wistfully when your hands brushed through his hair. Sweet tension soon pooled in his belly. 

"I am close," he breathed, his voice thick and hoarse. The heat of his breath spread over the shell of your ear. Your body prickled, and fresh arousal seeped onto his cock. Thranduil moaned and swore lustily. 

"Fuck."

Your legs scrabbled for purchase against his hips. Heat bloomed and spread just beneath the expanse of your skin when your muscles tightened and coiled. 

"So am I!" You cried, sobbing his name, when he thrust deep and sent you over the edge. You kept your eyes on him, on the myriad of expressions that flashed in his blue ones. There was fire and greed and hunger, and even smug satisfaction. You feasted on it all,  even as your orgasm neared. Tranduil didn't stop. He kept up his torturous pace, thrusting as deep as he could go, his moans as desperate as yours. 

Now, you want to cry. Let it be now.

On the next breath, you shuddered and gasped, splintering and shattering when rapture crashed over you like a great wave. You cried out his name again, pleading for him not to stop. Thranduil kept rutting into you, his hips burning, dipping his head and nipping at your throat when that sweet tension within him erupted and he spilt a torrent of his spend in your slit. He moaned again and again, continuing to thrust until he was utterly spent. 

You barely remembered the next minute or two. Everything was a delicious blur. Thranduil gently eased himself off you, moving to his side and pulling you with him. The sun had risen higher in the sky. The bedroom filled with beautiful early morning light while Thranduil pressed tender kisses against your lips. He touched your hair,  your cheek. He traced delicate lines over your eyelids. 

"Do not hesitate to wake me up like that again," he smiled and said. 

[legacyshenanigans]

Marvolo x Rowan 🐍🐺

NSFW, you know the drill. 'Nuff said.

They stumbled into Marvolos room, hands pawing at each other, tongues fighting. Quickly trying to rid each other of their clothes, banging into furniture, a few potion bottles falling and smashing in the process, something Marvolo would usually be annoyed about if he wasn't so fucking desperate for his best friend right now.

Their minds were completely clouded, neither of them knew why they were doing this again, certainly not so soon after the last time. Their now bare bodies pushed against each other as they continued to stumble adound the room towards Marvolos bed. Rowan let out a growl grinding his hard, leaking cock against his, making Volo hum in bliss into his mouth.

The pair fell onto the sheets. Another tussle of limbs as they seemed to take turns pinning each other down, carrying on their intense kiss. Their lips finally left each others for a moment to catch their breath. The pair suddenly becoming very aware of how their cocks were rubbing together, they both let out a moan in unison. Just rutting and grinding against each other side by side.

Rowan gave him a smirk as he took the lead to pin Marvolo down again, his body on top of him, a sinful smile curled onto Marvolos lips as Rowan made his way down south, leaving a trail of licks and bites down Volo's chest and stomach before reaching between his legs.

Another hum left Marvolo as he felt Rowans mouth wrap around his length, taking him to back of his throat. Volo's hand found Rowans hair as he lay back and enjoyed the feeling of Rowans mouth working him.

Volo looked down, seeing Rowans amber eyes looking up at him. He smirked, his grip tightening in his hair as he began to force Rowans head up and down on his cock, bucking his hips up in rhythm with his movements. The deep sounds of Rowans throat filled the room.

Marvolo: Mmm fuck...Yesssss...Nnngh..

Rowan made a bold move, bringing a hand underneath Volo and sliding a finger inside him, making Marvolo gasp. His eyes rolled back as he threw his head against the pillows.

Marvolo: Fuck..R-Rowan..

Rowans finger curled up, pressing against his prostate and rubbing up on it, making Marvolo squirm slightly. Deep, erratic moans leaving his lips, consumed by the sensation of Rowans hot, wet mouth wrapped around him, combined with the relentless stimulation of his finger, was pushing him closer to the edge.

Marvolo: Don't stop..K-Keep going..nngh yeah, yeah..Mmph!

With a final jerk of his hips, Marvolo let out a loud moan which turned into a breathless satisfied laugh as hot ropes of his cum filled Rowans mouth and throat. Rowan swallowed every drop before pulling back and sitting up, wiping the drool from around his lips with a cheeky grin as Marvolo caught his breath.

Marvolo: You're so fucking good with that mouth *smirks*

Rowan leaned over his body once more, capturing his lips with his in a heated kiss. Marvolo could taste the salty remains of his cum on Rowan tongue and moaned into the kiss.

Rowan: *small chuckle* I know. *smug smirk*

Marvolo chuckled himself and flipped them over so he was now the one on top. Rowan let out an almost purr like growl watching Marvolo straddle his thighs. Another smirk played on Volos lips as his hands slowly scratched down Rowans broad chest, digging in just enough for him to feel a slight sting. A shiver ran down Rowans spine at the feeling.

Rowan: Mmmph, I fuckin love ya hands on me...

Another teasing chuckle left Volo, his hand coming down and gripping Rowans meaty, throbbing cock.

Rowan: *breathing hitches* Shit..

Volo pumped his cock in a smooth, sensual rhythm, taking a moment to run his thumb over Rowans leaking slit before pumping him again a little faster. Rowan arched his back up, his chest heaving, his muscular frame flexing under the intense stroking, his skin glistening with sweat, Marvolo couldn't help but marvel at Rowans form, he was perfect.

Marvolo: Cum for me..

He whispered breathlessly stroking Rowans cock with a little more pressure.

Rowan: Ohhh god! Ffffffffuck..Hnnnngh!

A hard, strangled groan pushed out of Rowans throat as he released. His cum spluttering out onto his own chest. He looked up at Volo through lidded eyes. Marvolo leaned down, licking up some of Rowans release with a naughty smile before moving to lay down next to him.

Rowan: Fuckin hell. Heh.

Marvolo: *smirks and lights up a cigarette*

They lay there in their own worlds, taking a quick moment to bask in the afterglow of their shared release before Marvolo spoke.

Marvolo: What time is it?

Rowan: 1am I reckon. Why?

Marvolo: Too late for you to wander back to the Den now.. I suppose you could stay here the night..

Rowan gave Marvolo a cheeky smile.

Rowan: "Too late for me to go back to the Den"? *chuckles* Why don't ya just admit that ya WANT me to stay?

Marvolo took a drag of his cig, giving Rowan a teasing smirk.

Marvolo: Shut up, Rowan.

~

[tanaisokay]

"𝑷𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓" - a letter written by Sebastian Sallow

Purple Star,

I told you that I want you, but I fear it is much more than that. I yearn disgustingly - morbidly - vivaciously - in ways that go beyond mere thought, but overcome me still. If I were to ever explain, to show you, how much it aches - I'm afraid you would think me a devil. So I write in a form you will never see. Let alone, comprehend in a way for your pretty empty head to grasp, as it is not enough.

How I want you in a provocative trance, so I may trespass under cloth barriers and reach beyond, until I take what is forbidden. How I want that projection of my expectation, to exceed the otherworldly rush through my veins. To behold a beauty that I only could scarcely imagine.

I want to feel you. Under the delicate peach that softly muddles me, in the slick desire that I want around mine, would I truly understand you. Beyond the bone chilling phase, I could then sense your quivering pink on my burning fingertips. Your silky wet heat wrapped around my own penetrative desire. Where I can observe in such sensitivity, the very essence of you. Twitching, moving, enveloping me into a bliss I would describe as a heaven.

How I want to ravage you. Let the sour grace my tongue, rapture me in a ripe scent that riles me. Til all I am, is plagued with a hungry desire to consume you. To take my time, to feel every pulse, hear every sloppy disturbance of your dripping release, only to fill you with my own filthy edge. A spell coming from me more powerful than any magic. Turning my world inside out, I finally release a heaving stabbing urge, which always grows sharper with every moment you are near.

I want to see my seed drip out of you. Be the evidential remains to my sin. My white milk among your swollen beaten daisy, the aftermath of my shattered pride. Only then, would I be able to claim you as mine. Only then, would I be closer to my dream of forever.

Yet, I sit helplessly in the shower basking in myself. Head in hand - Pulling all lust through me, do I get the miniscule understanding of how such a dream would be. Clarity does come after euphoria, forcing a wake that leaves me sick. My hand is not enough. My fantasies are jokes to what would be real. This is why it is so difficult for me to explain outwardly. I can not reduce my emotions to general subtleness so I can begin to say it in a way that you understand.

Why must your head be so dense?

My Purple Star, I need you.

[golden-rats]

If you had life eternal

Turning emotions into fics. This time, Copias thoughts about Terzos death.

Words: 1k

Warnings: Dealing with death of a loved one

Tags: Loss, grieving, hurt/no comfort

Can also be read on AO3 here

Terzo was gone.

Copia was struggling to come to terms with the enormity of his loss. He felt helpless. Didn't know what to do. How to stop crying. How to stop this grieving. It was near unbearable. His chest getting tight. So tight Copia feared it would crush his aching heart and struggling lungs. Every new sob rolling through his body. Shaking his shoulders.

The newly elected Papa tried to fill the void with work, with the ghouls and siblings of sin, with anything that might distract him from the crushing weight of his sadness. But nothing seemed to help. The world felt darker, colder, more unforgiving without his tesorino by his side.

And so he sat there, in the quiet of his room. It was dimly lit, with only a faint glow coming from the bedside lamp. Copia sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Hair a mess. Wearing his dark red track suit. It was wrinkly and stained. Unable to take proper care of himself lately. He had been sitting there for hours. Lost in a sea of sadness and despair. Consumed by the weight of his grief.

The future seemed bleak, uncertain, and he couldn't imagine ever feeling whole again.

As so often these past days, his mind was filled with memories of Terzo - his smile, his laugh, the gentle touch of his hand, the way he used his words to subtly, and sometimes not so subtly, flirt. All of it felt like a cruel tease, a reminder of what he had lost. He couldn't believe that he was gone, that he would never be able to see him again or hold him in his arms. Or being held by him.

As the night wore on, his emotions began to overwhelm him. He collapsed onto the floor, his body heaving with sobs. He cried out his name over and over again, his grief echoing through the empty room. Every moment felt empty, every space that was once filled with love and laughter now felt hollow and cold. The silence throughout the day was deafening, a constant reminder of the absence of the one person who meant everything to him. No doubt another Papa or some of the ghouls could hear him right now. But that was the least of his concerns at this point.

The tears flowed freely down his face, leaving wet trails on his cheeks. Smearing the paint he didn't wash off yet. Couldn't find the strength to get up and do it. With every glimpse into the mirror, he saw him. Staring back with mismatched eyes. Though, this time they were cold. Copia was almost surprised there were any tears left, with how many of them escaped him prior to this new breakdown. He clutched at his chest, feeling the emptiness where his heart used to be. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that he couldn't imagine ever feeling anything else again. A constant ache in the pit of his stomach that refused to go away.

Every day felt like an eternity, and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that it was all a terrible nightmare, a cruel joke that he would wake up from any moment. But deep down, he knew that it was real. Terzo was gone, and with him went a piece of his heart that he knew would never be fully restored.

For what felt like hours, he laid there on the floor, crying and screaming and mourning the loss of the man he loved.

At one point, Primo wandered over. Stopping outside his door in the hallway. Listening. This death affected him and his brother just the same. He knew how Copia must feel. While they didn't share a family bond, it was clear they did have a deep connection. Secondo and him accepted the cardinal into their family without question. While his younger brother was wary at first. But Terzo? He immediately took a liking to the chaotic, kind man. His antics on stage, the silly tricycle, the trail of small rats you just needed to follow if you looked for Copia.

But Primo didn't knock. Didn't disturb him. As much as he wanted to console the grieving antipope. It felt like a breach of privacy. He would come to them if he wanted to. When he was ready. Behind one corner of the hallway, the oldest brother could make out the silhouettes of a few ghouls. Huddled together, peering around said corner. Tails lowered between their legs, ears drooping low. But the retired leader only shook his head. Signaling them to retreat to their own quarters before leaving himself. A few wailing chirps could be heard while they disappeared.

Left alone with his emotions, Copia struggled to form coherent thoughts. Exhaustion tugging at his body and mind. He knew that his life would never be the same without him. The ministry wouldn't be the same. The ghouls neither. But somehow, in the midst of his grief, he found a glimmer of hope. He knew that he would carry his memory with him. Always. And that in some small way, he would always be with him. On the stage. In his songs. With their music.

Determined to continue his legacy. Not letting the memories of Terzo die that quickly. He would make sure that he lived on. That a fragment of his soul could be found in everything he created. His love would carry on and defeat the boundaries of death. It could only separate them bodily. For now.

Then, eventually, his sobs quieted and he was left with only a deep, aching sadness. And that was okay. It was a process. It will most likely happen again. Which is a good sign, no? A life that's missed means it's a life that has been loved. And Terzo was and still is loved. There is not a single doubt about that.

If they just had some more time together… Just another morning. Another kiss. Another touch.

If they had life eternal.

[deathfavor]

@healingscars said:ㅤㅤ izumi seems to be a bit needy today and showcases this by plopping right down onto the taller’s lap.  of course, this yields no interesting results – much to the younger’s dismay – and that’s where they get the idea to start kissing along his jawline and neck.  it’s always so difficult to get a good response from the reaper, because he always seems so bored, and it’s starting to grate against the escort’s nerves.  it’s not fair.

ㅤㅤ and that’s where they are now, gently sucking and nipping along hanma’s exposed neck like some kind of toy, while their hands paw and knead against his sides and waist.  his neck is obviously already decorated nicely with hickeys and bite marks, but they just keep going due to the cruel fact that he hasn’t made any sort of sounds of approval during any of this.

ㅤㅤ “ damnit, say something. ”  they had pulled away enough to whine that out before going for his jaw, nipping at it slightly.  it’s not fun when there’s no response, after all.

Nothing escapes Hanma's noticed ; he noticed when they'd entered the space even before they'd strutted over towards him with clear intent. But as for Hanma? He merely observes them briefly the way an apex predator might a primary consumer; a lion to a mouse ; that is to say, with only vague acknowledgement but no motive or gripping interest. Even when they clamber into his lap he barely bats an eyelash. God. This shit is all so boring.

Even when he feels lips pressed to his skin, Hanma does nothing different. His gaze is disinterested, his breathing the same steady pace. No hitch, no falter. It's funny really. Izumi acted so disinterested or hostile to him, trying to instigate, and then immediately pawed for his attention when he ignored them and didn't take the obvious dangling bair. Looks like they weren't used to that. People are typically easy. His gaze slides over to the clock. How long were they were going to go till they broke? Ah. There they went.

Hanma heaves a sigh like they asked a chore of him. " Your lukewarm performance is hardly something to provoke commentary. " Hanma informs them with a monotonous tone - the same tone he used with meetings or orders and not at all like a man having his throat pampered with attention.

One hand lifts as if he's about to pull off his glasses - but instead, Punishment wraps into their hand and gives a harsh yank, forcefully prying them off of his neck and to arch away from him. He sits up though, leans closer to their ear with a dangerous glint in his eyes. " You do that shit to everyone, right? Watch them drool and go mad over a few little angel kisses? " He cocks his head to the side. People desperate for attention, to feel like the center of the world. Not Hanma. " If I wanted some sweet little plaything, I could go to any bar and grab someone. " He whispers in their ear, voice low with amusement. " That act ain't going to cut it with me. Not my cup of tea. " He tugs their hair a bit further, Sin lifting up to grab their chin and placing a thumb on their bottom lip. " You want my attention? Show me why I should bother. " He grins, a dark leer in his eyes before he untangles his hand from their hair and shifts his attention away.

Hanma knew a thing or two about people who yearned for attention. You had to give them a little something here and there. Normally that's when they'd show what they really could do and where Hanma could decide if there was interest or just more dull normality.

[demonfamilytherapist]

Okay so in the Shadowbringers expansion they introduced these new enemies known as Sin Eaters. They (most of them) were once living beings that were corrupted/mutated by primordial light/holy aether/magic. Kind of like demons, but holy/light based demons. Most of them have names like Forgiven Rebellion, Forgiven Cruelty, ect. There's some more powerful ones named after the different types of Greek love (Eros, Philia - they are Light Wardens) as well as Cardinal Virtues.

They were specifically designed to be eldritch horror but themed around light. The stronger ones can actually turn mortals into more of them. They are bad, really really bad. When they were being designed the concepts kept having to be sent back because they were being made to look too pretty/"good"/angelic.

Apparently the name Sin Eater came from the idea of man's sin becoming too great and causing the world's destruction. Sin eaters exist to consume and eat, and in a sense take those sins away.

The player more or less nearly becomes a Light Warden in everything but appearance at one point the game due to having absorbed the corrupting light from the previously defeated wardens. You've taken on so much excess light that your soul is beginning to crack and is at risk of shattering.

Which made me think of Sin Eaters being eldritch beings in Obey Me. Because horrifying creatures that still wield light/holy powers/magic? Sign me up! I can only imagine how the angels and demons would react to meeting one of these abominations. Of course my favorite Sin Eater is Forgiven Obscenity. She's kind of pretty.

I could see them almost being villainous counterparts to the Avatars of Sin and the angels. I'm still thinking about how they would actually come about in Obey Me's universe. Maybe either as beings that already exist but were incredibly rare that most felt them to be myths (like cosmic/eldritch horrors). Or the result of some sort of experiment by the Celestial Realm and they loss control.

Plus I could see them actually being natural predators of both angels and demons. More demons then anything because of the whole sin thing.

Some Sin Eaters are little more than animals, but there are quite a few intelligent ones - like on the level of human intelligence.

Anon you've accidentally hit on one of my favourite tropes: Light as a corrupting horror. It blinds just as well as darkness, it lures you into a false sense of security, it tells you it's good! That it's there for your own good, what would you do without it?

My thoughts on its origins would be sort of the inverse of the brothers' status as fallen angels. Given their 'forgiven' titles, it seems the Sin Eaters must be former sinners - maybe the strongest are former demons? A demon that was cleansed by the Celestial Realm? An accidental baptism, of sorts? You can have their same power structure in the game, where animals are turned into Sin Eaters without much intelligence, humans and regular demons/angels vary depending on their previous sin/magic maybe? and powerful demons/angels ascend into Light Wardens or even the Cardinal Virtues.

The Celestial Realm, at first, is delighted - even smug and amused at this development. Isn't it wonderful, that even demons can be Saved? Can feel the Grace and Love of God? Truly, their Father is beyond merciful.

But... as it turns out, angels aren't actually free of sin, it's just that their loyalty to their Father happens to outweigh that sin. We see it in every angel we've met so far (Luke and Simeon have their respective associated sins. Raphael doesn't have one himself yet, but what we've seen of his backstory and his personality shows a bit of pride and wrath at minimum). When the Sin Eaters decide that even angels are impure beings needing to be cleansed, that's when the Celestial Realm recognises them as an issue.

According to the Wiki, it seems they have a form of resurrective immortality too? So it's a threat that only keeps growing. A threat large enough to unite the realms as allies, perhaps?

Maybe MC, with the ring/Ring of Light, has to face down the Light Wardens. They're the only ones who stand a chance of being able to absorb that much corrupting light without turning themselves. Diavolo might be able to handle a bit too, being a very powerful demon, but Lucifer and his brothers (aside from Satan) used to be angels - their risk is actually much greater, as they haven't entirely gotten rid of the light within themselves. The idea of Satan having to take a hit for one of his brothers, since he's the only one who can risk exposure without turning straight away...

Forgiven Obscenity is very pretty. Also, Light Warden Eros looks like Cerberus.

[lou-struck]

Dream Eaters Part 1

Obey Me! x MC!

Featuring: Lucifer, Mammon, and Leviathan

Part 2

Part 3

~ How they react to a lower-level Demon giving Mc nightmares intentionally.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, torture, and nightmares. Nothing too visually graphic.

Lucifer~

As soon as your screams of terror reached his ears Lucifer sprang from his desk and ran down the hallway with unholy speed. Fearing you're in danger he breaks down the sturdy door to your bedroom. Instead of seeing an intruder, he sees your trembling form curled up on the mattress as your chest heaves in exhaustion.

“MC?” he says softly approaching your like he would a wounded animal. Once he is right in front of you, you blink as if just noticing he is in the room with you. Tears pool in your eyes as he lifts you carefully in his arms and you cling to him tightly. And carrying you back to his bedroom. Where he gently placed you on the bed and looked you over.

“Are you unharmed?” he asks as you nod, voice too horse to speak from all the screaming.

“Was it a nightmare?” another nod.

“You’ll be staying with me tonight, please try and go back to sleep he says gently kissing your forehead. He moves to turn off the light but you grab his wrist.

“I’ll keep this one on,” he says softly pulling you to his chest hoping that you’ll sleep through the night.

~

The next morning as your body rests he gently grabs your wrist to place a kiss to your hand only to see a faint outline around your wrist. It is more than a stay mark from a pen or a bit of dirt, it has a sinister aroma that makes him sick. It belongs to a lesser demon.

Wanting to get to the bottom of why some other demon has marked you with its energy he cleanses it with his magic engraving the scent to his memory when he does his rounds at RAD.

Excusing himself from his Student Council duties he follows the scent to the men’s restroom lingering just outside the door to hear the conversation a boastful demon is having with its companions.

“That Human exchange student is delicious. How could Lord Diavolo bring something as sweet as them down here and not expect us to go wild.” The biggest one says licking its chops. “Humans are so vulnerable to dream feeding all I needed to do was mark em up and I score.”

“So that’s what happened?” Lucifer says coldly, stepping into the bathroom. The demons shudder at the intensity of his rage and drop to their knees in blubbering forgiveness. Their pleas fall on deaf ears as Lucifer sentences them to punishments far worse than what he does to his brothers. No number of insecure apologies will make up for the look of fear you had in your eyes.

By the time Lucifer sits down for dinner, there is blood on his shirt collar, but no one pays it any mind.

Mammon~

There are nights one Mammon’s sin gets the best of him and he becomes way too greedy for your proximity. His feet carry him to your doorway on his own. Of course you know of this little habit of his and keep your door unlocked for him in case he wants to come by and stay the night with you.

Settling into the sheets he hold you close to him and is finally able to shut his eyes after a hard day.

Suddenly he is awoken by the harsh thrashing of your limbs as you seem to be clawing away at something that isn’t there. Your breath comes out in ragged gasps as he tries to shake you awake as gently as he can. 

It isn’t till he sees the tears streaming down your face that he tries a bit more aggressively finally pulling you from whatever nightmare that had consumed you that night. 

“Mc, it’s just me, the Great Mammon. I’m here for yeh, Was just a bad dream.” 

When you look up at him and begin to relax his heart flutters a bit but he continues to hold you, rocking you back and forth until you’re able to get yourself back to sleep.

But it doesn’t stop.

You wake up three more times that night and Mammon knows enough about dream-eaters to know that this is most likely intentional.

Mammon knows just how easy it is to get Demons to turn on eachother for a little grimm so he does just that. Through a series of bribes and a few death threats he is able to corner the Demon who has been feeding on his Human. 

Once he finds them he shows the miserable creature exactly why he is the second strongest avatar of Sin.

Leviathan ~

As a night owl himself he didnt think that you staying up all night in his room was anything out of the ordinary. But when he noticed that even after he turned off his game to try and get some sleep you still played through the night clutching the controller with a death grip as your eyes blink to stay awake.

Your eyes while beautiful look fearfully exhausted, almost as if you haven't slept in days. His concern for you overpowers his incecurty to ask as he takes the controlled from your hand to ask why you haven't gone to sleep yet.

When you explain to him that you are afraid to go to sleep because of persisting nightmare that play behind your eyes his heart sinks. In the old day lesser demons called dream eaters would plague others with fearful nightmares as a form of torture. and the fact that it is happening to you makes him sick.

You're his Henry, the one person who understands him and doesn't judge him for being an Otaku. His blood runs cold as he helps keep you up through the night so you dont have to deal with the nightmares. As you mindlessly mash buttons he searches through his computer for any information on dream eaters and how to track them.

Hacking into the RAD student directory isn't hard either, he is able to locate possible suspects who have the ability that has caused you so much pain. He looks at each profile till one in particular stands out. Without a doubt he is the demon who is feeding off of your nightmares. The next morning Levi actually gets dressed to go to RAD to find this troublesome Lesser Demon and give you a much deserved good nights sleep.

Let's just say Henry 1.0 got a tasty snack down in the catacombs after Levi was through with him.

[anantaru]

LET ME HELP YOU LOOSEN UP, KAY?

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — although being wildly known, xiao was still nervous before performing, however he knew he could always rely on you to help him out. (modern au! + rockstar 4nemo au!)

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 1.1k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader

xiao was nervous, more so anxious about the success of his current tour and couldn't help it but feel tense, he arched his back and spread out his arms high up in the air as the soft cracking noises bounced off the walls of his private room.

Luckily, a certain someone peeked into the door all of a sudden, greeting him with a soft smile written across their face. As he absorbed your words, his expression went from tense to relieved, slowly reaching his hand towards you so you'll take a hold of it.

"I've been meaning to call you."

he admitted embarrassingly, whimpering out soft sounds once you placed your hand on his chest, drawing slow circles while remaining eye contact.

"you look kind of." pausing for a second before continuing, "nervous, xiao." his body shivered against your touch, your hands slowly wrapping around his neck to draw him closer, lips a hair spread away from each other. Carefully moving his arms, xiao was fast to place them on your hips, digging his digits into the soft flesh and breathing out heavenly.

His fingers were gently massaging the muscles on either side of your hips, warm and relaxing movements that made you crave for more.

"Would you like to kiss me?" you whispered almost inaudibly, glancing up at him from under your brows, smiling kindly, and almost crying from being so hungry for him. He doesn't move nor say anything, drawing a deep breath before closing the distance, his lips on top of yours, fitting so fucking perfectly against your own.

His next kiss was consuming, hungry yet sweet, teasing you with a hint of desire and driving your body insane by the way his hands grabbed further into your flesh.

You could certainly tell how deprived he was, much to your surprise, thinking that a rockstar should have enough groupies to hang out with, but xiao was always a rather shy type when it came to those particular things.

For a moment the both of you clung to each other, fondling with each others bodies like two horny teenagers who didn't know any better, your make out session evolving from tender to eager and now to complete desire.

Xiao couldn't wait any longer, the bulge in his pants growing harder every time he would hear you moan against his lips, gently guiding you towards the couch in his private room in where you took your chance to push him against it -making him plop right on top of it - straddling his body.

"I have the perfect idea to make you loosen up, do you trust me?" saying it with a wink, you slowly reached over to his belt, unbuckling it to expose his leaking cock to the cold room, "fuck, I'm so hard." xiao whined from the cold air hitting his dick once you took it in your hand, lazily stroking him with a small pout displayed on your lips.

He swallowed sharp after feeling you push down against his pulsating vein that decorated his dick in a most sinful way, "don't stop." he's struggling, "please." his hands seeking refuge on your hips again, their grip firm but gradually becoming stronger, that's how desperate he was to feel you envelope his cock with your cunt that was already fluttering around nothing, drenching your panties even further.

Xiao never let go of watching you please him, the way your chest heaved while you swallowed down harshly, spitting on your palm and continuing to stroke him. Hard as it was to admit, he already felt so much more at ease, which was good since he still had to perform later.

You saw the pain in his eyes and decided to finally give him what he has been craving for, leaning down to his face so you could feel his hot breath against your lips while pushing up your skirt, exposing your drenched panties to his eyes.

"Let me get rid of those." you teased, sliding them down your legs and lazily kicking them to the ground, resorting back to xiao who could barely wait any longer.

You lined yourself up, teasingly swiping his angry tip over your folds for good measure before sitting down and swallowing him whole. "You feel so," he whines in between breaths, "so fucking good." xiao is repeating it with a deep groan followed by your name.

There was a little something you were quite proud of, lets call it - small technique you learned - and knew would drive him insane, not to mention you were dying to know how xiao would react to it.

You proceeded to ride him, hands placed on his chest for support when you wrapped around him completely, though when having him inside of you, instead of lifting your hips up again, you remained in that position and began circling your hips in an 'O' movement, making the man underneath you cry out with every single circle you would bless him with.

"You seem to like my little show." you coed, placing soft kisses on his sweaty forehead while continuing to ride him silly with newfound speed. You let out a sharp cry once he started to thrust up to meet your hips, xiao really wanted to know it now, his movements faster and more frantic than your body could ever keep up.

"fuck, fuck." he was panting, his arms tight around your waist now and hammering his dick into you, noisily moaning against the shell of your ear without a single fuck in the world. Your climax made itself noticeable deep inside your gut as you hugged him tightly, sweaty bodies becoming one once he filled you complete with every thrust, your head spinning around and seeing white as you felt him paint your walls with white ribbons of utterly passionate desire.

Your body failed you, collapsing on top of him and tangling your fingers into his hair to relish in your afterglow.

Xiao's face was a sight to behold, eyes scrunched shut and mouth agape, as if you fucked all the sanity out of his body. He slid out of you, his cock laying flat on his chest that was covered in both your juices and his cum, the tip still flushing an angry red and hard.

"m-my, god." his heart pounding heavily against his chest. You grinned at his response and once he realized that, he was quick to hide his face with his hand, too embarrassed to face you now. "do you think they heard us?"

ꗃꠂꠥ rockstar!au series.

do not! share, copy or repost my work. ✎ ©ANANTARU 2022

[cloudyyangel]

Nanami Kento thinks you look best in his blue button up. He enjoys seeing the stretch and pull of the fabric against your plump body. He also enjoys the events leading up to you tugging on his shirt.

3.3k

nsfw, cw: lack of prep, dry humping, body inclusive reader, afab reader, slight praise kink, one ass smack

△ △ △

Nanami watches as you gather your underwear from the foot of his bed and slip back into them, a small smile playing at your lips. Your wiggles to get them just right over your thighs and ass has Nanami sighing softly as he leans against the headboard- eyeing every piece of plush flesh that bounces with your movements.

He had tried to coax you to stay in bed, dinner can wait sweetheart, but you had been adamant about feeding the over worked and stressed sorcerer (No Kento, I am not a suitable meal! You told him for the fifth time). He had came straight home from work and gotten you into bed before any greetings of hellos or how are yous.

You glance around for your shirt, the one he won’t mention is on the opposite side of the bed by the wall. It’s a game for him; getting you to throw your shirt off in a lust fueled haze and losing it. You always try to find it afterwards, sometimes even nudging him to roll over so you can search under him. Nanami was patient as his gaze followed you around the room- he knew the ultimate victory of the night was close. It sent a pleasant warmth through his chest as you finally give up and pull on the only shirt on the floor.

Nanami is built different, as you’ve jokingly told him many times. He’s tall with broad shoulders and a toned physique from fighting curses over the years. You, in a great difference, are soft with rounded edges that contrast with his sharp angles. You love to watch him flex as he chops vegetables for dinner, or see the taut skin of his stomach as he stretches before bed- it’s everything you’re not and it use to sting a bit, cut into your heart that maybe you weren’t good enough.

Nanami Kento, on the other hand, loves the opposition of your bodies. He loves the soft skin of your shoulders under his hands, to feel fat squeezing between his fingers as he grips your thighs, loves to watch your belly match the pumps of his hips as he drives his cock into you. He loves you, truly and wholeheartedly, and everything about you. Over time his sweet words, sinful praises, and all consuming actions have nestled their way into your body to take home in your skin.

They settle in your heart- the logic conscious man had no time to string someone along or for empty compliments. Fine, Nanami had relented one night after you explain why you’re not enough for him, you are big. You’re also beautiful, smart, amazing, talented. It’s just another word that describes why I love you. You start to believe it after that.

The blue button up you pull on after a session of love making is what he loves the most. Out of all the looks you had, it was his favorite. The fabric clings to the fat of your arms while the wrists are loose. It stretches across your full chest with only three buttons fastened in an attempt to hold you even as they pull taut (you know they’re reliable, just like the man who wears it). It couldn’t cover your tummy, even with how broad he is, but the material covers enough for you to trot around the room in.

It’s ill fitting- not necessarily too small, but made for a slimmer and taller build. Tailor made for Nanami Kento. On you, it’s a frumpy mess- the blue material wrinkling at odd places, bunching up around your arms but god if he doesn’t melt at the sight of you. His blue button up, stretched safely around your bigger form- it reminds him that you are his, that you love him, that he can protect and cherish you. He tries to keep it out as often as he can, fighting his urge to keep everything smartly in its place, just in hopes of you tugging it on. He soon found out that you were more willing to pull it on when you were in a dazed state, wanting to put on some semblance of clothes after an extended period of being exposed. Nanami was more than happy to provide that mindset for you.

This evening, his shirt had been tossed to the floor as soon as he entered the bedroom. His tie was somewhere in the living room, his glasses by the front door, shoes strewn across the entrance. Nanami is a smart man, however, and was careful with this shirt- he let that drop right in the middle of the room, to be sure it was the only thing you saw after he had satisfied both of your needs.

△ △ △

“Impatient, hmm Kento?” You teased as his hands groped at the fat on your hips to pull you even closer to him. He was home exactly on time despite the complaint of overtime and caught you by surprise. Nanami had strode into the bedroom with no words as he let his shirt drop to the floor and immediately captured your lips in a kiss.

The normally composed sorcerer had called on his break to rant about useless colleagues and a curse getting too close for comfort and that he just wanted to hear your voice. He promised to try not to work too late, I miss you darling, but you knew he put everything he had into work and told him you would be waiting for him with a smile.

Nanami hummed as he bruised your lips in a needy kiss. “I just need you.” He had muttered with a rut of his hips against yours. His length was already pronounced and it made you pull back with a slight gasp- light glistened off the string of spit that connected you two.

The situation at work must have gotten to him, his controlled façade had slipped completely off as he attacked you with an usual fervor. His hands squeezed your hips before they roamed over your tummy- it was one of his favorite places to touch and kiss and squeeze and worship.

He never faltered on his slow, methodical, rut against you, not slowing down to even remove both of your bottoms. “K-kento, we can-“ Your suggestion to continue in bed was cut off when his hands wrapped around your back to grope at your ass.

He always did go straight for what he wanted. Which explained why he was rutting you into the wall with spit spread around your lips.

His hips sped up and harsh pants met your face as he pressed forward. Nanami’s brow was furrowed, fingers griped tight on your ass as he slotted between your legs. His composure, his calmness, had been tossed to the side along with his shirt the second he saw you. Now, his cock was leaking into his slacks and he was just so desperate to feel you against him that the wall would do for now.

The new closeness brought his hard cock right against your cunt, still both clothed but the friction was enough to make you grow wet and grind back against him. The angle pushed you up on your toes, desperate to feel even more of him and if you angled your hips just right, you could feel Nanami’s length slide right over your clothed slit.

You had refused on multiple times to be picked up, even when he insisted on multiple times that he could. Instead, he accommodated your needs and wants, simply finding a way to be able to grind against you while he pressed your back against the wall. He bent down to suck the smooth skin of your neck into his mouth, only to increase the speed of his ministrations on your now dripping cunt.

His hips rubbed harder against you, effectively pining you to the wall and it started to burn against your skin. The sting only amplified the feeling every time it rubbed against your pussy lips and you couldn’t help but whimper with every thrust.

Deep in your stomach, something tightened and grew into a comfortable pressure, your orgasm growing with every thrust of Nanami’s hips. One hand left your ass to roughly paw at your chest, his fingers easily found the pebbled nipple and rolled it a few times before he gave a light tug. As you gasped he took the opportunity to shove his mouth over yours, to lavish his tongue against yours. It wasn’t enough for you, or him, but you were the first to break.

You needed more, needed him and needed something physical to touch you. "Kento, please” you whined into his mouth as you felt the soaked fabric of your underwear stick and cling to you.

The broken cry brought Nanami back as he pulled away from your hips, not able to control his harsh pants. The sudden stop made you jerk against him, desperate for any relief against your clit that throbbed under your pants. Nanami stared down at you, blond hair stuck to his sweaty forehead with darkened eyes, and heaved a few deep breaths. His expression cleared as he took in your state- the caretaker role slid back on as he saw how wrecked you were from just a few minutes of dry humping. Your eyes were half lidded and cloudy with tears from the friction, hips still stuttered from the loss of contact, and your chest heaved. When he didn’t move, you reach forward with a grabby hand to tug his belt towards you. He easily caught your hand and slightly ‘tsk’ed when you voiced your displeasure with a frown.

“Look what you do to me.” He sighed and brought both of your hands to his cock that strained against the fabric of his slacks. You desperately gripped at the hardness which earned you a sharp hiss from his kiss bruised lips. You mewled at the sound but Nanami was never one to be outdone.

He eyed your own sex and let out a small chuckle. “Look what I do to you.” He said amused as he rubbed your hands over the wet spot of your pants. The pressure made the fabric catch against your slick lips, swollen from the rough friction and you arched into it before he pulled the hands away. He chuckled at your pout and wiggle to find friction again.

“I can’t believe how needy you are,” you bit out in frustration at his tease, “dry humping me like a virg-.” He swallowed the rest of your retort with a heavy kiss and quick swat to your ass. The small spank had you flatten yourself against the wall with a surprised gasp.

“You’re the one soaked through two layers of clothes. I think you’re the needy one, sweetheart.” He commented with a harsh tug on your ass which slammed your hips against his. It pressed your lips against your clit and sent a jolt through your body and the loud whine that left your lips already proved his point as he dragged you towards the bed. He brought his hands back to himself and left you to stand in front of him.

Nanami didn’t break your gaze as he went to unbuckle his pants and flung them off somewhere (you would tease him later how messy that was, throwing his clothes around like a teenager). You shifted as you watched his thick cock spring free of his slacks. The pretty red head slapped against his flushed stomach and you swallowed a whine as your cunt continued to throb. You would drop to your knees if he asked, pull your knees as wide as they would go, press your face into the mattress- anything to get his perfectly thick pretty cock inside of you. Nanami was observant as ever and smirked as he sat down on the bed.

“Like I said, needy.” His voice was a rumble and the comment sent a flutter through you. Nanami eyed you up and down, still fully clothed even as he sat naked on the bed, and gave a solid pat to his thigh.

“Take off your pants.”

Nerves shot through you- even after being with Nanami for so long. It was a force of habit to hide your body, to not show off and it made your movements lag as you unbuttoned and pulled off your pants. Despite his preference to see you naked- he rarely undressed you himself. He allowed you to take off whatever clothes you felt comfortable enough to remove, and at your own pace.

He was patient, as he always was, while you worked to obey him and not listen to the doubts that swirled in your head. His command, soft as it was, fought against those doubts you had. You wanted to please him, feel the praise run through your body, and that beat out whatever words had been thrown at your body in the past. His pale eyes watched as your thighs were freed and jiggled as you lifted you feet to kick them away.

His legs parted slowly (god what a sight to see Nanami Kento spread his legs wide for your body) and you slotted yourself in between his strong legs. “Look at you,” it came out breathless as he softly slid his hands under your shirt and you took the silent command to throw it off along with your bra, “sweetheart you’re gorgeous.” He pressed a few kisses to your stomach, his lips sinking into your skin. Your hands threaded through his blonde locks to let your nails scrape against his skull.

That was the praise that made every piece of exposed skin worth it- his gentle tone and sweet words sunk into the fat on your body and sent a shiver through you. He responded with soft bites into your even softer skin; his lips sucked a few red marks next to your navel to prove his point.

“Come join me, please Angel. Let me feel you.” He spoke quietly as he lead you onto his lap. You obeyed wordlessly- his words, his voice washed over you and made you compliant. Your weight pressed against his strong thighs, the bed dipped beneath your combined weight, and your stomach trapped his cock between the two of you as you settled down on his lap.

Nanami’s lips instantly latched onto your nipple, sucking and licking the hard bud. His hands roamed across your back, dipped to your love handles to pull you against him and you pressed up closer to his cock. His hips thrusted up on instinct to fuck his cock against your soft stomach, and drew a small moan from your lips. You rolled your hips against him which left behind a nice slick of your juices on his lap. His cock twitched against your stomach just as your clit pulsed from lack of stimulation.

Nanami was more than happy to lazily roll hips against hips until someone gave in. Once again, you broke first. “Wanna feel you Kento, please.” You muttered as your hips sped up on his lap. Your clit throbbed with every light push and you could feel the quiver travel through your thighs.

“You will, sweet girl. I’ll fill you up, give you what you need.” He promised as his hand travelled down to finally touch your wet pussy. His long fingers teased your slit and one easily slid between the folds. He had been the one to storm into the room and dry hump you to a wreck, but now wanted to properly get you ready.

You tried not to pout at him being a gentlemen to prep you but at this point he had teased you too long. You whined and weaved your fingers through his light hair to tug his gaze up to your own. Your empty cunt was painful as it pulsed around nothing. “No, please Kento, I need you now. I promise I can take it I promise just- I need you right now please please-“ he kissed your babbles away and moved his hands to grip the back of your thighs. He was patient, but even he had a limit.

Nanami pulled back to lock his pale gaze onto your teary eyes. “Can you handle that sweetheart?” He asked firmly, any tease gone.

You nodded quickly, blinking away tears at the need of his fat cock inside of you. “Promise Ken! I promise!” You whined and he shushed you again.

“That’s enough baby, lift up for me.” You pushed up on your knees and pawed at his chest as he lined up at your entrance. Your little whines of ‘please’ were silenced as the tip of his cock slipped through your slick hole.

As Nanami helped you lower yourself, he let out a string of encouragements, “You can take it, I know you can good girl, just go slow, don’t rush yourse-“ his words were cut off with a broken moan as you spread your knees and sank further down on his cock. “F-fuck baby.” His head dropped against your shoulder and he fully moaned.

Nanami was vocal in the aspect that he would praise you, give you commands, but those moans were special and sent an electrical shock right to your core. You griped at his hair and wrapped your arms around his neck with your own whine as his thick cock stretched you out.

It burned. As wet as you were, it practically dripped down your legs, his fat cock still stretched and squeezed itself inside of it. You slowly sank down until you met his lap once more, thick cock buried in your fat pussy. Neither of you moved for a moment, enjoying the fill and stretch of each other. His hands clawed into the extra fat on your thighs, sure to leave pinpoint bruises in the morning, and gave a small bounce.

“Ah! Not yet, wait,” you stammered out with a whimper to his hair, your pussy throbbed around the intrusion.

“You can do it for me sweetheart, move and bounce on my cock, yeah? You’ll be a good girl.” He coaxed into your neck with a few swipes of his tongue.

You nodded instantly, his words wiped out any doubts or pain you had. “Ye-yeah. I can.” You confirmed and raised up on your knees slightly before you dropped your weight back down.

He let you set the pace, happy to feel the rise and fall of your thighs on his, watch your tits bounce, feel the tight squeeze of your cunt on his cock, hear the pants right by his ear. “Kento, Kento,” you chanted as your rises got higher and quicker.

His own pants and moans were almost lost in the mix of your vocalizations and the squelch of your pussy around his cock. The tightness that formed deep in your belly came back, egged on by the sounds and feel of Nanami. “More! Ken, I need more, please, just, just a lil’ more.”

You leaned back from him to grind your hips down just as he moved to thrust up to hit right there oh god that was the spot. Your moan was loud and delicious to him as the head of his cock brushed the spongy spot inside of you that left you slack jawed. He took advantage of your leaned back form and laid back on the bed before he bucked his hips. You fell forward, catching yourself on his chest. “More, sweet girl?” He questioned with a smile of adoration and lust.

Nanami was nothing short of a giving and loving partner, always happy to give you exactly what you asked for. In this new position, he was quick to thrust up so hard that it jerked you forward. That warmth in your belly grew sharper, brighter, as it weaved through your body with every hit of his cock inside of you. He continued his thrusts as you threw yourself back to meet his hips. Wet slaps of his cock being driven into you mingled with your loud moans and his quieter grunts.

He never could keep his hands still at this point. His hands groped at your jiggly ass, moved to cup your belly that hung over him, pinched at your nipples on your tits that swung right in his face, and pulled your thighs apart to watch his cock piston in and out of you. It was too much for him, just to watch you and everything about you as you bounced on top of him with such lewd sounds and faces. He loved you. “My good girl, you’re taking me so well, bouncing on my cock so nicely. How does it feel princess?”

Your arms threatened to give out as your hands clenched into fist on top of his chest. “Good! ‘S good Kento! Your- ah! your cock ‘s hitting so good!” You managed to respond as he continued to jack hammer into your soppy cunt. Nanami deepened his thrusts at your words, pleased that you always listened to him even with his cock that wiped most thoughts out of your mind. “Close, gonna...wanna cum with you.” You whined over his quiet grunts.

One hand left your ass and settled on the fat of your pussy right above the sensitive little bud that begged for touch. Your clit throbbed with the closeness and you leaned closer to him. He responded by snapping his cock deeper into you, a wet smack echoing with every thrust. “ ‘m close too princess, your so tight around me. ‘M gonna fill you up nice and full, okay? Make you bigger with all my cum.” His thumb found your clit and gave it a soft rub.

A jolt of sensation travelled through your body. “So deep, cum so deep inside me, puh-, puhlease!” Your begs and pleads became a mess as Nanami sped up the circles on your clit. Only utters of “Ken!”, “puhlease!” “Cum ‘n me!” fell from your mouth as your orgasm grew. You slunk down on his chest, almost laid out flat on him as his hips kept up their relentless pace. The circling of your clit, your cunt leaking around his fat cock, the warmth in your belly, Nanami’s praises of good girl my good girl- everything snapped.

You came loudly with stars behind your eyes, called out his name with a quiver that ran through your thighs and a gush of your juices that coated his lap beneath you as you full collapsed against his chest. He fucked you through your orgasm as he gave you one, two, three deep pumps- his hips only stilled with his cock buried balls deep as he emptied his cum inside your pulsing cunt and his lips praised your name. It took a moment to feel your thighs stop their shake, feel his cum settle into you, as you both recovered from your orgasms.

His chest heaved under you, arms wrapped around your waist to drag you up off his softening cock. You whined at the drag, positive both his lap and the sheets would be a mess of your combined cum. These moments, basked in the afterglow, neither of you could care about stained sheets and leaking cum.

Nanami settled you against his side and his lips dropped a slow and deep kiss against your own. “Love you, love you Kento.” You mumbled. “I love you, my darling.”

△ △ △

So yes, seeing his shirt on you- face still flushed, hair a mess, red bite marks decorating your plush stomach- it was his favorite look.

[burnedbyshoto]

hawks_littledove.mp3

— You’re an avid listener to NSFW ASMR artist Hawks. It’s just your luck that he’s offered to have phone sex with you.

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pairing: takami keigo (hawks) x fem!reader

warnings: smut, 18+, slight abuse of power/influence, phone sex, masturbation, degradation, praise, nsfw asmr artist!hawks

word count: 5,018

a/n: my keyboard is broken and i could actually cry. but hey, hawks do be sexy even tho I would never trust him with my life. also LOL this might be a call out to a lot of us, do not be offended or I will cry.

kinktober day 14 main kink: phone sex | kinktober masterlist

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Fantasizing about being in relationships with fictional characters was entirely healthy and normal.

That was something you believed to the core. It was fictional; thus, no one but you were to be hurt at the end of the day. The character, being fake, could never have an opinion because you must be real in order to have an opinion. So when you were between boyfriends, you discovered a new anime, and before you could stop yourself, you fell hard for a character.

It started as a mild obsession.

You had looked up fanart via google images, your heart warming when you saw the plethora of different fanart. The anime itself had been in circulation for a few years now, the manga for much longer, so the content was endless. Then google images wasn’t enough, and you began crossing into Twitter and Tumblr.

The fanart became better, more engrossing, and definitely much more NSFW. And then, one night during your endless rabbit hole down Tumblr after your daily search on Twitter, you stilled when seeing a new type of content.

⇒ grey fullbuster x reader

The obsession grew worse.

So much so that you had followed nearly five hundred self insert writers and artists on Tumblr, and maybe seven hundred artists, meta writers, and thread makers on twitter. But three months into consuming all the content you could find, you came across a new name that made you tilt your head.

Hawks Fierce Wings

It was a name that was being repeated and heavily talked about on both sites. It was an ASMR artist, apparently, and you frowned at the thought. You didn’t have anything against ASMR videos, but you weren’t exactly sure how to handle an anime ASMR artist. Were they cosplaying while making all those weird ASMR sounds? You really didn’t have any idea, but due to the immense boredom of your lazy day in, you decided to hell with it and tried out his most popular video.

It was simply entitled: Hawks is Jealous.

Did you have any idea as to who Hawks was? God, no, you didn’t. But if it was just some random cosplay he was going to do, you didn’t think it was going to matter. So as the only slightly educated ASMR listener, you never truly became invested when it was a thing; you slipped on your earbuds and pressed play.

The introduction screen faded into an illustrated picture of a slightly handsome man, and some calming yet tense music played in the background. You shifted, eyebrows drew as you waited for the ASMR session to begin, and when it did, you were not ready.

“I saw you walking around with that asshole today,” a voice practically growled in your ear, and you froze.

Oh, no.

Oh, no.

Oh, no!

For almost an entire hour, you sat glued to your sofa, your fingers digging into your lap as the jealous, spiteful words of this man named Hawks poured bitterly in your ear. His words were a near aggravated assault on you and definitely something you were beyond uncomfortable hearing from a stranger, but there was something about his voice that kept you there. Maybe it was the tenor of his tone or the way there was this sly, cunning scent to his words that he seemed to hide deep within his throat, but there was something that kept you there.

The second the passionate, heated kissing noises and heavy moans began to spill from his lips, you screeched, slamming your laptop closed as your cheeks pounded heavily.

Oh my god?!

It took a bit, but eventually, you were able to finish the audio and quickly figured out why he was an NSFW artist. You had never, ever heard a man eat a pussy fake or real as eagerly or vigorously as he did. Your hands were gripping the pants of your leggings, and your chest heaved.

Oh, motherfucking shit.

Finding out there were almost seventy other videos for you to still experience sent you scrambling for more, and eventually, you had to confess you were obsessed. Despite the anime fandoms you had discovered him for, Hawks seemed to be more famous for the content he created as himself. His real name was unknown by the looks of it, and he was only addressed as Hawks by his audience, something you caught on to quickly. So only after creating a new profile for his Youtube account, you made quick work of liking and commenting on every single of his already published seventy-eight nearly one hour and thirty-minute videos. 

Each one was different.

Each one filled with various roadmaps on how Hawks' scenarios would play out for you — the listener. When he used his own persona, he called the listener his little dove or his chicken nugget, sometimes his KFC thigh, or his shish kabob. 

You were glad at the very least he didn’t call you by any of those nicknames when pretending to fuck you at a speed only a “porn-is-my-only-education-on-porn” virgin teenage boy. You knew it wasn’t ideal, usually, but for some reason, it just worked. You commented on everything, read his summaries and thoughts on each video. Eventually, when you found yourself on his final, most recent video, you were ready to go a step further.

The Patreon app on your phone seemed jarringly out of place as you opened the app and subscribed yourself to Hawks' highest tiered option for the price of twenty USD.

And when you got your access to his page, you were immersed in more heavier, better content.

It was a goldmine in a sea of fools gold, and you absolutely went insane.

You weren’t sure if you were insane, needy, or just straight-up idiotic for scrolling to the very first Patreon post and indulging in the content Hawks created. 

There was a stark difference between the warnings alone between the Youtube videos and the Patreon posts. While the porn was readily accessible on Youtube, the kinkiest thing that ever happened in a video was a slight implication that Hawks had left the listener on a vibrator and fuckmachine as he went to go talk to the visiting neighbors.

It was a slight, tiny zone out and miss a detail, but one you had clung onto like an obsessed psycho and even commented on in your comment on the post. Of course, Hawks hadn’t responded, not that you had ever expected him to because all things considered, a video that was eight months old and hadn’t done that well, to begin with, didn’t seem like anything he would remember: notifications and all. 

But Patreon? Oh good, sweet, ravishing Patreon.

The very first video was of the following:

Stepbrother!Hawks fucks Stepsister!Listener in the stairwell during Christmas Dinner.

After praying and swearing to all the deities of the world that you were merely a person with a voice kink for this man and not, in fact, a perverted pseudo-incest worshiper, you clicked on it and began. It was downright sinful.

There were active voices whispered in the background as Hawks laughed about how fucking slutty you were for letting your brother fuck you like this. In the hallway, like a dog, where anyone in your joint family could walk out into. He laughed that you probably wanted it, how your wet ass pussy was greedily sucking him in, so how could you even begin to deny your lust for your brother.

You had to take a break five times during that audio.

Eventually, you do end up catching up.

Each video he had ever posted to your disposal, and most likely due to the different tier levels, you always commented on the videos. Even if it made you feel awkward for lusting over things months old, even if there were no other comments on the videos, which was much more common than you thought, you always commented and liked. It wasn’t anything ever crazy, you had seen the rarest comments bring a whole essay of analysis on why they loved it or the hating words, but you kept it simple.

Just something to keep Hawks spirits high without draining you even further of energy.

A simple: holy shit, that was hot as fucking hell!!!! you never disappoint me!!!

You never expected anything out of it; as a matter of fact, you had merely thought that you were doing the least by merely appreciating his creations when, one night, a few hours after you had gotten home. Your phone chimed with an alert.

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ in surprise; you hadn’t realized there was going to be a new release after he had just updated four days ago. Still, you popped in your earbuds and began the audio with a simple title.

i fuk ur stupid lil pus until u cri

He wasn’t precisely putting much effort into his titles these days, but his tags were definitely accurate and entirely explicit in what was to come. And in this newest video, the prominent tag was degradation.

You weren’t entirely into degradation, but still, you did what you had to do because you weren’t turned off by it. With the beginning sounds of the music playing in the background, you warped into the situation Hawks carefully carved.

But, oh?

Your face simmered with heat as Hawks dirty words dripped from the earbuds, the wet, squelching noise of your cunt and throat being fucked like some inanimate object made you soak through your panties as his disparaging words burned against your spine like a hot brand. After the thirty-minute audio was finished. Your body trembling with the aftershocks of an orgasm that had come despite the lack of actual stimulation of your clit, and you panted on your bed.

Opening your phone once again, you quickly liked the new audio and typed out your comment.

listen, i know i always comment about how fucking hot this shit is, but i have /never/ fucking soaked through my panties… you just did that and i expect a full refund for these panties 💦

You pressed send and, without so much of a second thought, continued your night. You had dinner, talked with friends, and ended the night curled back on the couch with a wine glass in your hand and a simple sit-com playing on the TV. The familiar sound of the Patreon alert rang in your ear, and you frowned, confused.

Grabbing your phone, you opened up the device and nearly shrieked at the sight of the information the notification that said:

Hawks F.W.: lets see those panties before i refund anything

A chill ran down your spine as you quickly put together the indications of this message, and you smirked, despite your quivering hands. 

Me: I have a seven inch dick requirement before seeing any of the goods — yes, that includes my panties

And from that very moment, you began a strange arrangement between you and the NSFW ASMR artist Hawks.

.

..

.

Working was the worst part of your life, you would say.

At work, you would sit in your small 4x4 cubicle, your shelves stacked with plenty of papers and items you needed, not to mention the computer that took up the majority of your desk. You weren’t quite sure what your job here was, you sort of sat at your desk and did meaningless assignments when assigned, but you did nothing for the most part. 

Before becoming an active Hawks stan, you would spend your time doing nothing playing video games. You had somehow managed to install a VPN onto your hard drive so that your employers wouldn’t be able to see what was on your screen outside of the home screen. They couldn’t trace what you did all day, but they could care less, given you got all your work completed on time and done in an over exceptional way.

But lately, since you had dropped into this… engrossed whore like relationship with Hawks, things changed. 

To be honest, it still shocks you to no end when he tells you that he had always been aware of you. Well, with your consistent, ever appearing comments on his posts and overall enthusiasm for everything he posted, it was hard to not be aware. The mental image of your soaked through panties after a long day at his own work had sent him over the edge, and he finally messaged you.

Through the DM’s in Patreon, the two of you grew to become quite the friends with benefits. He would send you countless personalized audio files because you had quickly confessed to your voice kink and how his voice sent your stomach into hormonal knots. In return, you’d send the picture of an occasional soaked panty, and if he was lucky, an audio clip of your pathetic whines back to his audios.

You couldn’t complain about this arrangement.

But as the number of his patrons doubled, and he wanted to entice his subscribers with paying him even more money, Hawks began to offer a bimonthly personalized five minute audios for his $20 tier. The fans poured into that spot, and Hawks and proudly sent you the new number of adoring fans he was getting. On account of growing platforms such as Tiktok, the number of new listeners he got was nearly exponential, as he currently passed one million followers last week. 

The cheeky bastard was also making enough money to stop working his regular work hours anymore. Choosing to transition slowly into his Patreon career while recording.

Hawks, however, seemed to have other ideas for your eventual personalized voice audio.

Hawks had simply asked if, by any chance, you were going to be working tomorrow the night before. Groaning loudly in recognition of your work schedule, you had texted him back that you were going to be working. Snidely including the fact that you weren’t rich like him, you needed the tedious old nine to five job.

Hawks: how utterly boring anyway u can b free around 2?

Me: Eh… probably not. Busy girl w busy schedule, ill be back from lunch so no break Why?

Hawks: well, u knw tht uve been amzing & th bst follower so i wanted 2 give u smthing better then the personalized audio

Me: Oh? Well, what is it?’

Hawks: pick up tmrw n find out

He had changed the subject immediately afterward by dodging all of your questions with ease. So you dropped it, and the two of you resumed a night of flirting. But now, sitting in your small cubicle, your eyes flashing to the clock that read 1:57 p.m., sweat began to build on your palm.

You peered down to your phone as you waited for something, anything from Hawks to show up. The fucker was too cheeky, evasive, and quick for his own good. You felt like pouting as you glared at the phone, waiting for the screen to light up.

And you stilled when finally, at precisely 1:59 p.m., your phone gleamed with light. You couldn’t abandon your computer mouse quicker than you did as you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, and reading the message from Hawks.

Hawks: do u have earbuds?

Me: Yes?

Hawks: good put them on n pick up

The moment you had read the first message, you were already pulling out your earbuds, synching them up to your phone, and placing them into your ear. But your jaw dropped when, for the first time, the call feature highlighted onto the screen, the time immediately changing to that of 2:00 p.m. The decline or accept button had never looked as daunting as it did right now.

Despite the call trying to go through, you still saw his follow up.

Hawks: if u dont pick up u wont get shit

[Accept]

You felt your heart hammering in your chest as both fear, apprehension, and excitement boiled through your veins, the hammering blood pounding in your ears as you waited for some sort of noise on the opposite side of the line.

“Little dove?” Hawks' voices filled your ears, and despite yourself, you smiled softly. The naturalness of his voice sends warm thumps down your spine.

“Hi, Hawks,” you whisper breathlessly, your head already checking to make sure your neighboring cubicle mates didn’t try to look over the divisions to stare at you. For the most part, the office building was quiet except for the phone calls, the clanking of computer keys, and the monotonous music playing softly on the speaker's head. 

“Whatcha doing?” he drawled, and you felt your skin heat up when you heard the all too familiar sound of his shoes hitting the top of his desk, the soft whine of his chair as he leaned back onto it. “Are you really at work?”

“What do you mean, am I really at work?” you squeaked, half horrified at the way the lazy, warm heat of lust was infiltrating your body at the sound of his voice, and the annoyance that he thought you had been lying? “Of course I am; it’s two p.m. on a Wednesday!”

“Ah, so little dove-chan is a raging pervert who engages in phone sex to bypass her long hours at work?” Hawks sighed his tone that of understanding and dismissal. You splutter. “You never fail to surprise me.”

“I do not do… that!” you stammer, your face feeling like hot cinders, your fingers and eyes double-checking to make sure that the audio was going to your earbuds and your earbuds only. You also couldn’t help the way your eyes swept around you, trying to make sure you hadn’t accidentally invited unwanted attention. “I said I was busy!”

“But, you picked up my call?”

“You said, or else!”

“Mmm, okay, I think I see,” Hawks tutted, and although you had never seen what you supposed to be his handsome face, you could imagine a lazy, toothy smirk on his face. “Don’t worry, I don’t mind using your little cubicle to talk you into fucking yourself good for me.”

Your jaw drops.

It hits the desk, and the muffled shriek of utter humiliation is only silenced because you bit onto your tongue like a rabid animal.

“Aw, you sound so excited for me already, little dove. I bet you want to know what I’m going to do to you, don’t you? I just know that I’m going to make you feel so... good…”

“Hawks!” you plea in a hushed whisper, your heart hammering where you sat frozen like a deer in headlights. Sure, you had definitely played his audios before to pass the time, but never before in your existence had you had actual phone sex. This was riskier than just listening to his audios; his audios always had a pattern, a way to escape from the madness of his voice when people were closer than you’d like. But this? No, there was no escape. “I’m at work! I c-can’t!”

“But, fuck, I want you so bad,” Hawks' voice dipped into a gravely tone, his voice just perfectly scratchy enough that your shoulders trembled in unspoken, untouched want. “I want to feel your cunt around my cock, baby, your pussy is so hot and I want to be the fucking lucky bastard that gets to fuck you through your bed.”

“O-Oh my god…”

“I’ve been thinking of what your tits look like,” Hawks continues on, his voice continuing in the style you liked the most. It was raw, heavy, and deep. No character impersonations, just him, pure Hawks. “I hope they bounce the way they do when I imagine you riding me. I want to see you moan when I kiss the underside of your tit, I want to see your face when you realize that you’re my girl, nobody's else's, but mine.”

Heat floods your panties at his words, your shallow breaths making him chuckle on the other end. 

“You’d be so lucky to be just mine, wouldn’t you, little dove?” Hawks snaps, his voice demanding a response, and you heave.

You look around, no one is near, and you croak out: “I’d be so lucky.”

“Louder.”

“I’d be so lucky.”

“Mm, there we go,” Hawks laughs, and your ears prickle for any noise that may indicate that someone was listening in. “What? Are you getting nervous that your needy ass will be heard by your coworkers right now? Answer me.”

“Mhmm,” you hum loudly, your cunt pulsing with more incredible heat and your hands shaking with a slight fear of being caught.

“Aww, don’t worry, little dove. I’m sure your boss will understand that you’re my newest fucktoy and will let me continue. Maybe they’ll want to join in?”

You whimper softly, shifting in your seat at that thought. You didn’t really want your boss coming anywhere near you, he was old and gross for one, and nothing could take the place of this beautiful man's voice in your ear right now.

“Oh, was that a no? You don’t want other people fucking you, do you, y/n? I bet you only want to have my cock in your tight little pussy, bet you want to watch the way that greedy little thing sucks me in, begging for my seed. Would you want me to cum deep inside you? You would like that little dove; you’d like to be full of my cum.”

“H-Hawks,” you keen as quietly as you can, your hips shifting uncomfortably in your seat, your heart hammering in your throat. The pressing heat in your cunt is growing, your panties growing with wet slick as Hawks' voice whispers down your ear, filling every empty and void space in your brain until you were having trouble focusing on the very much public spot you were in.

Hawks let out a soft, guttural moan, and you froze, face entirely combusting into an inferno as the familiar slick slapping of his fapping cock filled your ear. Immediately, you forgot everything.

“A-Are you—?!” you splutter, unable to find the words or the energy to come up with a way to ask if he was masturbating right now. Your eyes spun, your mind in a complete haze as soft, raunchy moans spilled from his lips, striking against your nerves and soul with each successive sound.

“I’m only trying to help you out here, dove,” Hawks growled, undoubtedly in effect to a rather loud smack of his fist colliding with his thrusting hip. “You’re the little office slut who picked up a phone call to entice in phone sex. I bet you knew exactly what I was going to do, and your pathetic, needy whore self caved to my instructions.”

Your fingers curled into the armrest of your chair.

“I bet this makes your boring ass job tolerable, the perfect distraction to a shit job, then imagining a few minutes of fucking yourself against my hard cock.”

“That’s not true!”

“No?” Hawks laughed, not believing you any more than you did. “So you wouldn’t hate it if I showed up and fucked you into the wall of your cubicle? You wouldn’t mind if I claimed your sweet-smelling pussy against your desk for everyone to hear? I know you can scream like a bitch in heat. I know that pretty little cunt of yours would milk my cock dry. Oh, I just know you would look so fucking sexy with your back arched, eyes closed, and you begging for hours just to cum. You wouldn’t cum without my permission, right?”

You gasped, heart fluttering, hammering in your chest as you shook your head, not trusting yourself to speak.

“I need a verbal answer, little dove.”

The heat in your core was blistering, your thighs shaking with your unadulterated lust and need as you ground into the cushion of your chair. All logic and moral long gone as he snarled and moaned your name in your ear, the slick of his fapping cock echoing like a great bell in your ear. You wanted to hear him cum, wanted to listen to the pithering sound of his echoing moans as he spilled the contents of his balls onto his hand — and how you wished it was your womb.

“I won’t cum w-without your permission!” you whispered, your skin shivering with your fear of being caught. 

“God, you sound like such a dirty fucking bitch. I bet your pussy is fucking soaked already. Bet you really want to run that slutty embarrassed finger against your clit but don’t want to be caught by your perverted coworkers,” Hawks hissed, his breaths turning into steady, heavy hot pants. You mewl softly, confirming his spoken thoughts, and he huffs out a laugh. “How many fingers do you normally shove up that pretty cunt of yours, little dove?”

“T-Three!” you gasp, your forehead pressing to the cool of your desk, your eyes glazed over and looking at the entrance of your cubicle, fervently wishing that no one tries to check on you as you grind against your stable chair. “O-Only three fit.”

“Fuck, you really do have a tight cunt, don’t you,” Hawks snaps, the wet sounds of his fisting hand around his cock a beautiful melody in your ear that makes you whine at the back of your throat. “Bet you can’t even fit cocks up your cunt without lube, huh. You gotta stay on top, or else you’ll get hurt with how thick and long my cock will be up that baby pussy of yours.”

“H-Hawks!” you grit out, the friction of grinding on the seat no longer working.

“Go to the bathroom, now,” Hawks commands, the small gasps on his voice from his approaching orgasm more than enough ammo for you to do as told.

You sprint to the bathroom, the slick of your cunt hot, and evident to you as you sped to the bathroom. Your phone clenched in your hand as you locked the door behind you, glad the room was empty. Barely managing to get yourself into the stall, the toilet paper placed on the seat as you raised your legs up, already prepared. The skirt you wore was bunched above your ass, and the panties you wore, stretching out around your knees.

“Sounds like you’re ready to start fucking that pussy for me,” Hawks laughs, but there's no humor, just bite. “Put in three fingers, now.”

Without even arguing or caring, three fingers slip into your cunt, and you cry at the feeling of your fingers completely stretching you out. The smell of sex and slick filling your nose as your fingers slick up, fucking your tight cunt as you moan louder and louder for Hawks. 

“God, your fucking pussy is so fucking wet, I can hear it from here!” Hawks moans, the frantic sound of his drilling hips gaining speed and momentum. 

“I want it to be you!” you moan, your face burning in your humiliation. “I want it to be you fucking my pussy, claiming me in this bathroom. I need you, Hawks, I want your cock so badly!”

“Fuck,” Hawks gasps, something tumbling in the background. “Such sweet words for a fucking dirty ass cumslut,” he growls, and your legs shake, your clit and cunt thrumming with your increasing arousal and pit of tightness in your core. 

“HAWKS, FUCK!” you sob as your hips try to start a merciless speed against your fingers, your body trying to match the speed in which Hawks was fucking his own hand.

“Keep screaming my name, whore.” Hawks gasps, his noises of pleasure beginning to grow louder and louder, your eyes crossing in satisfaction. “Screaming my name like the fucking slutty mess you are. All this shit just to get me to fuck you? God, you’re so fucking pathetic y/n. Begging for me, begging for more? I think you’re my favorite little dove ever, gonna make you mine whenever I get to fuck that pussy.”

“Hawks!” you wail his name again, your arms and pussy throbbing with the energy it takes to keep up with his inhumane speeds. Your vision seeing stars as you tremble more and more, your legs slipping from the toilet seat, yet. “I am your whore, your little dove. Please let me come, please! You fuck me so well, fucking hell, please, I needa cum, I needa cum!”

“Cum with me,” he snaps, his voice so deep, so dangerously smooth. It was precisely what you needed, the voice kink you had for his tenor exactly fulfilled entirely with that simple, last command. And just like that, your jaw slackens, head slamming backward, and pleasurable waves crash through you.

Your fingers still rock at your clit, and your vice gripped walls, your toes curling within your shoes as you soundlessly scream. Hawks, on the other end, is practically snarling, voice deep and altogether dangerous as grunt after grunt leaves him, and you can imagine the milk-white cum splattered all over his chest and hand. A beautiful, perfect sight that you wish you could see for yourself.

Exhaustion settles in your bones as you sit on the toilet, still entirely exhausted as you heave for air. 

“I think that was the best fucking orgasm I ever had,” you mumble, your eyes closed, not ready to stand up and move. “Thank you.”

“I’m good at what I… at what I do,” Hawks stumbles, husky exhaustion ringing in his own voice. “Now, little dove, finish up work, and I promise there’ll be a surprise waiting for you when you’re done.”

Not entirely agreeing, but not disagreeing with his command to go finish you last… two and a half hours at work, you begrudgingly said goodbye to Hawks before washing your hands and exiting the bathroom.

When five o’clock came, you watched as your phone screen lit up, and your face flushed as you read the DM from Hawks.

Hawks: this is my fav audio now ↳ hawks_littledove.mp3 but you surprised me today, so in case u ever want to have more fun sometime  call me 03-9183-2495 ;)

[amistytown]

Power Over Me (Leviathan x GN!MC)

Leviathan x GN!MC as Lord of Shadow and Henry; MC is referred to as Henry but remains gender-neutral. I enjoy the TSL lore in Obey Me and wanted to write a bit for it. I initially had an alternate ending in mind, but I decided to save it for another idea I might write at some point. Tried to keep Levi in character while giving him and the story a slightly different feel since it takes place in a fantasy world. Also listened to Power Over Me by Dermot Kennedy on repeat while I wrote this so chose to title it accordingly. Hopefully, it turned out all right. Trigger warning for mentions of blood and self-deprecating thoughts. Mostly some angst with fluff. As always, sorry for the typos that I may have missed, and thank you to everyone who takes the time to read. I appreciate it!

Lightning illuminates the throne room, the Lord of Shadow watching the rain batter the windows, gaze sullen. A storm rages outside, mirroring the flood of emotion bursting forth to drown him in misery. Though he can only hold himself accountable, allowing his envy to fester and take possession of his heart in a moment of weakness. He regrets the letters he frantically wrote in his jealously, the heated words exchanged between you, and your pain forever engrained into the parchment, the ink smudged by your tears, which now lay in pieces at his feet. He considered to make the journey to you, begging for your forgiveness, but he knows he’s undeserving. Instead, he mourns the loss of your friendship, the loneliness left in its wake burning him from the inside out as he cries into his hands, his tortured sobs lost to the thunder roaring above.

The doors swing open, light spilling in from the hall. He recoils at the intrusion, anger welling and threatening to spill over, his patience worn thin. A growl dies in his throat, eyes widening at the vision before him, so beautiful and precious his entire being aches with longing. Slowly, he takes in the sight of you, engraving every detail into his memory. Your windswept hair and the raindrops trickling down your face, clinging to your lashes and following the curve of your lips as you smile sweetly at him, staggering into his arms.

“Henry,” he whispers into the nape of your neck, daring to embrace you and revel in the feel of your body against his; your skin cool and soft, and your scent rich, intoxicating him. He’s certain he’s not worthy of your compassion, yet he can’t bear to turn you away, selfishly clinging to you and delighting in the fact you lean into him, your arms winding around his waist to pull him closer. My Henry, he thinks, tightening his grip, afraid he’ll lose you again if he’s not careful. “I’m sorry. I’m so so—”

You grow limp, legs buckling under your weight.

Fear engulfs him, heart lurching as he supports you, catching your hand in his. “Henry?” he whimpers, noticing how your chest heaves with each breath, and the way your brows knit in discomfort, a low groan slipping past clenched teeth. “Henry! What’s wrong? Tell me, please.”

“I ran into a bit of trouble on the way here,” you manage, laughing pitifully. “I didn’t realize . . .” Your fingers fumble to unclasp your cloak, and he swallows thickly at way lay beneath. Blood soaks your blouse—a sickening shade of red—the fabric sticking to your back.

“You didn’t realize?” he cries, incredulous. “Henry—”

“I just wanted to see you.” Your voice wavers, head lolling to the side. He calls to you, shaking you by the shoulders, desperate to keep you beside him. However, your eyes close, grief overtaking him when they don’t reopen.

“You’ll be okay,” he reassures, robes billowing around his ankles as he rushes down the corridor, gently cradling you to him. Guilt plagues him, reminding him how pathetic he is, especially for hurting you and putting your life at risk; how could he act so recklessly. You’re the light to his darkness, breathing life into his world, and he can’t accept losing you—his happiness—your love dispelling the shadows that once consumed him. He never knew a truer friend, and he’s positive there’s no one else who could play such an important role—you’re irreplaceable. There’s plenty of time to atone for his sins, tonight he needs to make sure you live to see the morning.

“I’ll take care of you, Henry. I promise.”

Time comes to an agonizing standstill.

The Lord of Shadow remains at your side, hoping and praying you don’t succumb to your wounds. He watches you closely, frequently checking your pulse and finding comfort in the steady beat of your heart while you sleep, looking deceivingly peaceful in his bed. His focus is on you, never straying from his true friend’s wellbeing despite his inner turmoil, which threatens to tear him apart at the seams. You keep him together, and again he’s at your mercy, owing you his life for all you’ve given him—his hero—his Henry. He hurt you, but you came to him and offered him forgiveness, willing to sacrifice yourself to save your friendship. How can you care about him with such ferocity, a brooding reclusive lord who’s unworthy of his title? No matter the days spent apart, you return to him, accepting him into your life without hesitance, and he can’t help welcoming you back with open arms.

“I’m so sorry,” he mutters. “I’m terrible. A worthless—”

“You’re not.”

For an excruciating second, he wonders if he imagined the glorious sound of your voice, and an anguished sob escapes him, tears clouding his vision. You stare up at him, eyes heavy with sleep, and a lazy smile on your lips. He’s dreaming, he reasons, shaking his head in disbelief. Then your hand is in his, familiar and warm; he shivers at your touch.

Gasping, he pulls away. “Y-you . . .”

“Forgive me,” you say, so understanding—so sweet—your kindness unfathomable. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“N-no,” he stammers, head spinning. “I’m sorry.” Tentatively, he reaches for your hand, fingers quivering as he entwines them with yours. “I’m sorry.” His tears come faster and harder, shamefully hot on his cheeks. He’s unable to articulate how sorry he is or how his very soul painfully throbs at the thought of hurting you—losing you—wishing he could turn back the clock. “For everything.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay,” you soothe. “I’m sorry, too.” Sitting upright, the blanket bunches at your waist, and he can see where the bandages peek out from beneath your shirt, the skin bruised, making him wince. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I’m the reason you’re hurt,” he chokes out, averting his gaze. “It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s not your fault.”

You’re wrong, he wants to say; however, he refrains.

“I don’t blame you,” you continue. “Look at me, please?”

He shouldn’t. Surely, he looks foolish, a mere hostage to his emotions. Nevertheless, he spares you a glance, wondering why you regard him so kindly—lovingly even—causing his heart to flutter.

“It’s not your fault.”

Not his fault? His mind tells him differently; it’s a sea of dread and uncertainty that washes over him in waves, dragging him under. The sincerity of your words is difficult to ignore, and, in that instance, he decides to trust you, finally breaking the surface. “Henry,” he murmurs, hugging you to him, arms wrapping around you protectively as if to shield you from the world. His tears wet your hair, body trembling, and you hold him, letting him come undone in your embrace.

“I wanted to see you,” you say, setting him alight. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering on your own.”

“Henry—”

“I know you’re struggling. It’s okay. I’m here.” You rub his back, resting your head on his chest. “I’ll always come when you call.”

“You’re the truest of friends, Henry. I fear I’m not worthy . . .”

“Of course, you are. I’ve never known a truer friend than you, my lord.”

“I can’t help worrying someone will steal you away. It’s selfish of me, I know. Though I feel so inferior in comparison. Sometimes I think you’re better off without me.” When he learned you met with the Lord of Corruption, his insecurities grew, fanning the flames of his envy. Why choose him over his brother? The Lord of Corruption could provide you with more than he can give. The rest of his brothers, too; they could care for you—protect you—unlike him. You’re here with him though, leaving his brother behind at a moment’s notice, and you did come when he called, eager to please. He wants to return the sentiment. “I can’t articulate how important you are to me. I . . . you’re so special, Henry.”

“No. No one compares to you.” Your praise captivates him. “All I ask is for you to trust me. Talk to me so I can help you. I accept you, all of you, and that’s not going to change. I love you as you are.”

“Love me?” he breathes.

“Yes, I love you.”

A simple but genuine vow of love. He stills, terrified he’ll faint in your arms as he hides his face, heart racing. The cynical part of him says it’s too good to be true, but he knows better—he knows you. He’s envisioned this moment, and it’s far sweeter than his fantasies, your love a beautiful feeling that sweeps him off his feet.

“Have you slept?”

He sighs, mouth unbearably dry. “No.”

“Come to bed. You should rest.”

“Henry! W-with you?”

“You say that as if it’s the first time we’ve shared a bed,” you tease.

“You’ll be the death of me.” Although he complains, the bed dips beneath his weight as he settles beside you, reaching for your hand. “Is this, okay?”

“It is.” Shifting onto your side, your hand tightens around his, a flicker of pain twisting your features.

He tenses, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“I’m all right. Better, thanks to you.”

He can see the exhaustion in your eyes, the dark circles beneath them, and the stiffness of your movements, betraying the smile you wear for him.

“Who hurt you?” he asks.

“No one you need to worry about. Not now.”

Unsurprising. You’re his Henry, besting him and his brothers on multiple occasions; anyone who chose to challenge you is a fool. Yet, your blood flowing freely, covering his hands—the ungodly stench—stayed with him. He clearly recalls your lifeless body, and how the color drained from your face, the heaviness of his heart breaking when he believed he lost you twice in one day. You looked so fragile then and do now, trusting him at your most vulnerable. Hatred for the one who dared to harm you runs deep and for himself for not protecting the one he loves.

“I thought I lost you,” he admits, inhaling sharply. “I-I . . .”

“You didn’t. You won’t.” You catch his tears as they fall. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you, too.” His declaration is quick and clumsy but true; he’s loved you for so long.

Caging you in his arms, he hovers over you, peering down at you shyly. His body shakes with every beat of his heart, ears ringing, but he admires you, gaze affectionate and a light blush dusting your cheeks. He’s scared. He’s scared of losing you most of all, trying to muster half the courage he knows you possess. “I love you, Henry,” he says softly, clutching your hand, his lifeline. Closing the distance between you, he catches your lips in a tender kiss, the magnificence of it sending a rush of blood to his head. He forgets how to breathe, dizzy on the taste of your love, and collapses next to you, questioning if he died and ascended to the heavens. With you by his side the future is much brighter, and, for once, he looks forward to what it brings.

[ellitx]

Do you think that venti would have a food kink..

note: another draft i’ve finally finished! this is the fifth post for the bday event! oneshot is related to this drabble

warning: NSFW under the cut

word count: 3.4k

           “So this is your gift for me, huh?”

             You nodded your head as a silent answer and the next thing you knew, his lips were on you, needy, passionate, exhilarated. Nimble fingers combed through your loose hair almost attentively, while yours desperately pulled him closer by the collar of his cape. Breathing in, his scent coated your nostrils. Fresh cecilias, dandelion breeze, and a hint of bitterness from his recent intoxication of dandelion wine.

             Your legs were on his sides, straddling him. Clinging to him, you greedily pepper wet kisses down his throat and jaw. He couldn't help but groan at your touch and gripped your thighs tighter.

             Like magnets, your lips connect with his once more. Needy and hungry for each other, kissing passionately as Venti holds you close on his lap. You moved your lips in tandem with his own. There’s a rhythm in it as you kiss him, connecting your mouths.

             Your hands fiddled to his cape to untie the knot, then to his shirt, opening each button until his chest was revealed to let your hands run all over his warm skin, not breaking the kiss. He looked at you hungrily, chest heaving from the heated kiss, and threw his head back, moaning and breathing your name as you give small nips on his neck while grinding yourself against him.

             Before you could shower him with kisses in a different area, Venti grabbed your head and pressed his lips to yours aggressively. You yelped in surprise and held on to his shoulders for balance. He groaned against your mouth and consequently redirected his hands to your ass, squeezing gently through the material of your lacy panties. He wasted no time and dipped his tongue into your mouth, your lips allowing him through with little resistance. 

             Your fingers tangled in his soft onyx locks as you gently rocked your hips forth in a desperate search for some friction, already feeling how your panties stick to your folds due to the wetness. As Venti helped you move, you grind on him with a little more force to create that delicious friction.

             “Hmm…” 

             He sat up more straightly and pulled your back close to his until his face was buried between your breasts. You hugged his head and grind harder on his crotch when you noticed he gets hard under your touch. Delicate fingers played with his short locks and then you decided to unbraid the hair framing his face.

             You felt his hands gripping your hips with much force, finally relenting and guiding them in a slow, torturous yet delicious rhythm. He lifted his head up to look at you and brushed his lips once more to yours. He softly bit your lower lip between his teeth and backed away an inch to watch it bounce back to you. 

             You changed to a more lax posture and have your lips trail from his neck up to his jaw, and then up to his ear, softly nibbling at his earlobe. You heard him mutter a curse under his breath.

             “You know I won’t be able to hold myself back if you keep doing that, princess.” He warned, his eyes dark as he held your chin between his thumb and index finger to force you to look at him directly.

             Despite his warning, you insisted and pushed through. “I want Venven to feel good on his birthday…” Pondering about this, he shifted in his seat as his free hand wandered to your back, unclasping your bra and tossing it somewhere. You started to do the same with his shirt. With each button undone all the way down, both of you seem to be more desperate for each other’s skin.

             As Venti takes control of the kiss, your hands glided back to his chest, tracing the teal diamond mark plastered on his chest. “You sure are tempting me,” he said in between kisses, fondling your breast and pinching and rolling your nipples in his calloused fingers. 

             “Dressing up in lacy lingerie and offering your body to the Anemo Archon? You sure are daring and bold today, huh. I’m going to make love to you and I’ll make sure you can’t fucking walk after this.”

             You clamped your thighs together and shut your eyes when his fingers trailed from your neck to your collarbone. His emerald optics weaved with lust as he pinched hard on one of your buds.

             “You’re mine.” He took the nipple into his mouth and fervently lapped at it with his tongue. Your back arched when his wet tongue made contact with your perked nipples. His faint touches sent shivers down your spine and clenched around him. When he’s done with the left one, he goes for the other— guiding your hips to move and grind at his desired pace.

             Through your panties, you feel his prominent erection pressing against your crotch with each jerk of your hips, moaning at the wonderful friction. Your lover pressed wet kisses on the middle of your chest, tracing the same teal mark he has on your body with his lips then treading a path from your neck to your jaw with his tongue, and ending it with a featherlight kiss on your lips.

             You feel bare in front of the God of Freedom himself, with you almost being naked and him only having his shirt open. It feels like you’re sinning, being so intimate with Mondstadt’s very own archon and yet it feels right. It feels good.

             All the thoughts clashing through your head were discarded when you noticed Venti’s eyes flickered to the table next to where you two are. He briefly eyed the bottle of dandelion wine that was mere inches away from him then back to you. Your attention was drawn when he leaned towards it, but before he could grab the bottle, he turned to you.

             “Will you let me try something?”

             You blinked at him and tilted your head inquisitively about what he has in mind. “What is it?”

             “Trust me. Perhaps you might enjoy it as well.” He assured. Unsure and nervous of what he’s going to do, you let him take the lead and wait patiently until he gives you orders. It’s his birthday so might as well let him have fun as much as he wants with you to go along with his creative ideas. Nodding your head in affirmation, he grabbed the bottle of wine and took a sip before offering it to you.

             You feel his chest warming up from the amount of alcohol he’s consumed so far, yet you let your attention focused back on the glass bottle and take it from his grasp. You slowly take a sip, savoring the sweet and exhilarating taste, and hand him back the bottle. What you didn’t expect was for him to pour the contents down your collarbone and bare tits, creating a small stream to slide down your body. 

             The coldness of the liquid made you shudder, but before you could react, Venti darted his tongue out and licked it off of you. He hummed in satisfaction, the sweet and salty taste combining in his taste buds made him craved for more. Your lips were parted open, releasing soft sounds of moans as he poured a bit more over your neck and licked the trail feverishly. Suddenly, and without warning, you felt him softly bit a sensitive spot on your neck causing you to moan his name in a shaking voice.

             “Hmm, tastes better like this, don’t you think?” He grunted into the crook of your neck, pouring more and then lapping at the liquid. “Your skin tastes sweet, princess. I bet your cunt tastes even better.”

             His words made you clenched on him even more, especially the moment he began to lower himself towards your breasts, pouring the wine all over them and cleaning it all up with his warm tongue. An open-mouthed and wet kiss was plastered on your chest before sucking it with fervor.

             It was becoming too much for you. You shakily reached for his head and pulled the roots on his hair as you moaned loudly. The changing temperature of warm and cold, the constant shifting of pouring and licking was making you overwhelmed from all these sensations washing over you at once.

             “Venti…” You whined, curving your back towards him. Your clenching pussy is just begging to be filled with his hard cock. He lifted his head and looked at you with an amused smirk.

             “What is it?”

             You can’t help but admire how velvety his voice was when he asked. Looking at you with such a seductive gaze, making your body go weak for him just from a simple glance and he looks so sexy with his chin all wet and messy from the leftover wine. Maybe, you thought, he’ll look better buried between your legs with your slicks trickling on his chin. 

             “I need you, please…” You whimpered.

             Placing down the bottle back on the table, Venti softly pecked your lips and carried you in his arms as he stood. You let out a small gasp and wrapped your legs around him. Though he may be small, his strength is surprisingly strong as he takes you to the bed and pushes you down; your body bouncing against the soft mattress before he cages you between him.

             “You really need me that badly, huh.” He muttered and gave you a quick kiss on the lips. You watched him pull the small trolley cart closer to the bed, the bottle and a few glasses and bowls were shaking as it moved. He then removed his cape and shirt that was falling over his arms, finally free from the hot confinements and to feel more of your skin making contact with his.

             Your eyes lowered to the tent obviously showing up from his uncomfortably tight shorts which had you drooling at the possibilities of what lies beneath. “Please… need you so much, Venti.” You breathed and wrapped your arms over his shoulder to pull him close to you. He ran his fingers over your cheeks reassuringly, shushing you and peppering you with gentle kisses. 

             “We’ll get there, don’t worry.”

             Satisfied with how everything is going so far, he told you to tell him when to stop if needed, receiving a nod from you. He smiled and grabbed the new bottle of dandelion wine then the bowl of berries.

             He lined the sweet little berries one by one with precise and carefulness from your chest to your navel. A content hum reverberated from his throat at the wonderful sight of your bare body and fruits laid atop of it. Putting the bowl down to the cart, he took the corkscrew and opened the bottle before spilling the juices all over the trail, unbothered if it would stain the covers. Both of you were in the Goth Grand Hotel so it didn’t really matter to him if it’s dirtied.

             Once he’s done, he bent down to kiss you, slowly dragging his mouth down to the first berry coated in alcohol. Holding it between his teeth, he went back to your lips and kissed you with vigor. His teeth and tongue colliding with yours in a desperate effort to cut the berry in half evenly. You finally bit down on the small fruit and moaned at the sweetness mixed with the dandelion taste that bursted in your tongue.

             He does this again, repeating the process until he’s at your navel for the last berry. His hand reached for your panties then briefly looked at you to see if you’re prepared for what he’s about to do next. Pinching the waistband of your panties, he pulled the wet garment down to your legs, a trail of your wetness following along and rubbing against your thighs as he removed it. 

             It didn't take long for him to notice your pussy was extremely dripping with so much wet and he grinned at the fact that he’s the only one who could have caused you to be so wet like this.

             “Baby,” another sweet pet name of yours he likes to call you as he cooed. “I haven’t even touched you and yet you’re already so wet.” You softly mewled and buried your face onto the pillows to hide from your teasing lover. You know he only calls you that to tease you, and yet such a nickname is making you so hot and warm.

             He ran a finger over your wet folds and admired the arousal that gathered all together to a single digit. He shamelessly stuck the finger in his mouth, rolling his tongue over it, and lowly grunted as your taste finally kicked into his taste buds.

             “Fuck, I knew it.” He moaned, taking his finger off of his lips with a small audible pop and hovered over your body. The long strands on the side of his face were caressing your cheek as he loomed over you and his lean body just made it even more enticing to let you know who’s in control.

             “You fucking taste good.” Venti moved to your lips, pushing harder and pressing his knee in between your legs to brush your pussy. While he’s kissing you, he reaches for the bottle and coats your chest and stomach with the cold alcoholic drink. His wet tongue moved downwards to your jaw, neck, collarbone, then to your chest— lapping up at the skin and licking you clean, going back to your lips to have you taste the remnant of the wine off his tongue.

             Dipping further and further, he left a trail of kisses along the way to your chest, abdomen, then to your clit. Your heart raced the more he admires and takes his time with your body. His eyes glinted in excitement at the sight of your bare, glistening pussy like he’s going to have the time of his life eating a feast that’s been prepared for him.

             “Thank you for the meal~”

             Venti immediately buried his face between your legs, ravishing your throbbing and sensitive pussy, eating you out like a man starved. With his arms secured around your thighs to keep you in place, you can only squirm in your seat as his tongue laps fervently at your folds.

             “V-Venti,” you moaned, a high-pitched sound that further drove Venti into you. His tongue reached inside you, devouring all of your arousal like the dandelion wine he drank off you. He kept his eyes open, taking a peek at your reactions and taking into account how you responded to each of his actions. The way he just looked straight at you, not faltering at all, is enough for you to gush all over his skilled tongue.

             A mess you have created that both of you can’t say you don’t like it. Burying himself further, Venti’s nose nuzzled close to your clit as his tongue delved deep into your walls, creating a new sensation that had your toes curling and hands tightening on the covers of the mattress. A moment passed before he stopped and pulled off, leaving you a shaking and whimpering mess.

             Venti brushed your hair as silent praise that you’re doing well and his palm was attached to the body of the bottle once again. You quietly watched him under your cloudy and hazy vision, taking a big gulp of the lump sitting on your throat in anticipation of what he’ll do next.

             His gaze bears a glimmer of lust, entrance, and delirium. You became hypnotized and aware of his eyes studying over your naked form, enough for you to notice he poured the alcohol slowly over to your cunt. You shudder at its coldness but Venti’s warm hands calmed you down immediately after he rested them on your hips. He angled himself until his face was meeting with your heat and lapped the drink from your pussy as much as possible.

            Your fingers entangled to his short hair almost in an instant and lightly tugged on it as he kept continuing with his erotic ministration, causing him to moan in your center. The vibrations only made you gush even more for him, and he excitedly licked it off, finishing with a fat stripe of your cunt and finally reaching your clit.

             “Don’t s-stop… please.” You begged and pulled his hair, even more, to push his face back to your core. Heeding your wish, he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked on it madly. The suction made you twitch wildly, screaming as your thighs shake around his head from the arousing stimulation. He held your legs to keep you locked in place as he continued to drain all the life and energy out of you.

             You slowly opened one of your eyes to steal a glance of Venti and the scene in front of you made your body flushed seeing a lewd and obscene position: his head buried between your soft thighs, his head moving and shaking as he kept on going in drinking and slurping all of your essences that continued to flow out of you.

             You feel your orgasm approaching fast, the heat in your stomach that gradually builds up is about to burst. As if he had read your mind, he easily slid in not one, but two skillful fingers that had your back arching in pleasure at just a mere touch. 

             He briefly stopped to marvel at your easy submission, then curled his fingers inside you and began to pump them in and out at a rapid pace. Panting heavily, you made eye contact with him and noticed his chin drenched in your arousal, wet and shiny. Rather than a god, in front of you was a succubus. A sweet and charming succubus forcing you to reach your orgasm by going harder and harsher with his movements.

             “C-cum… ‘m gonna cum, Venven…” you managed to utter as you close your eyes shut and grasped on his hair tightly the more you felt you’re close to your release. His free hand latched with yours, twining fingers together to provide the comfort you need. His eyes gleamed expectantly and with adoration, carefully watching every small movement of your body for signs of discomfort before picking up the pace of his fingers and rapidly increasing its speed.

             “Come on, baby. Come for me. Let it all out.”

             The tension inside you somehow grew even tighter when he spurred you with his words. He sucked and thrusted his slender digits in and out of you, but waves of pleasure running through your nerves made you jolt as he added a third finger in. You feel full. Fuller than what your own fingers can give you and that fact overwhelmed you greatly.

             A sole tear emerged from your eye and silently streamed down your face as Venti kept chanting next to you to cum on his fingers repeatedly. His silky voice echoed inside your head and everything around you turned blurry, the world spinning around as his fingers were fucking you so good you want to cry and belt out at the Celestia how grateful you are for him.

             As your orgasm came crashing down, Venti grazed your clit with his teeth making your body tremble and twitch even more through your high. It was wild, strong, uncontrollable; the thoughts in your head just all disappeared as you let yourself drown in pure bliss and euphoria, still cumming on his hand. 

             He slowed down the pace of his fingers and gently kissed your inner thighs and folds. Your body was so numb, your head so cloudy it’s hard for you to grasp what just happened. You watched in a dazed state as Venti lifted himself up and wiped the remaining of your cum glued to his chin.

             You can faintly see your fluid glisten as it fell down to his pretty neck. He sat on the edge of the bed and put his arms underneath yours, letting your arms drape over his shoulders while he lifted you up and had you lean against his form. Though your body is sluggish from the recent orgasm, he still assisted you in any way he could. 

             You were tired and worn out, letting Venti do whatever he pleases with your body. From you having you sit on his lap, straddling him and hugging his back, to your head buried on the crook of his neck. The intimate position and personal hug made you relax against him, though you prefer if the two of you were laying down on the bed instead of this.

             At least Venti was letting you use him as a pillow just for him to hold you like this. He pressed a soft kiss on the crown of your head to which you sighed in contentment through your nose and basked in the gentleness of his touch.

[littlefreya]

Penny Dreadful

Summary: Sherlock is cold, troubled and upset, his mind is fixed on cracking an unsolved murder. It’s the worst time to disturb him. But his hot-blooded little succubus wants to drag him into sin.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x OFC (First-person POV)

Word count: 2.5K

Warning: 18+, smut, teasing, bratty behaviour, ass-smacking with a cane, slight cane play, primal play, unprotected rough sex, biting, slight size kink, MaleDom, drug use. Lots of curly hair descriptions.

A/N: Not canon to books Sherlock, obviously, but seeing the photos and teaser Henry as Sherlock just sets up the vibe. So I had to. Many thanks to my beta @agniavateira​ !! Sorry for the ugly cover art :D.

Title: Penny Dreadful

Sherlock’s study was a bleak, musky chamber deprived of heat, notwithstanding the many candles that burnt at every corner. Perhaps it was the pristine heaps of snow that piled on the ledge of the window, or maybe it was his sullen mood that gave the room a sense of icy wilderness. 

Fumes rose from his mouth, vaping into the air. The tawny light kissed his thick mane of luscious, chocolate curls while he stood at the fore of his desk and leered at some parchments that troubled his brilliant mind for whatever reason. 

Fist seizing the golden tip of his cane, his thumb stroked the engravings that embellished the metal. Cases that he couldn’t crack often left him frustrated to the point of madness. Those wicked, sly obsessions made him even more irresistible.  

My nails bit into the wooden doorframe. Consumed by yearning, a blaze licked up my soul with its monstrous tongue. I often wondered how something so pure as love could be dangerous, to which Sherlock would reply, 

“Love is the greatest villain of them all.”

Unlike him, I didn’t care for evil. 

The detective unclipped the small chain he kept fastened to his vest and opened the silver locket, gathering a wisp of white powder on the tip of his pinky finger and pressed it to his nostrils. A small grunt escaped him, his eyes turning glassy. The “fairy dust” tended to sharpen his perception and elevate his stamina.  

I dropped to my knees at his sight, crawling on the floor. The black silks of my dress made a brushing noise as it dragged on the Persian carpet; my breasts peeked as my corset shifted with every move. Sherlock often said we must imagine ourselves as animals once we let desire play our strings. 

Accepting my inner wildness, tonight I was a cougar stalking her prey. 

By nature, his senses were sharp as blades, though the substance that streamed through his veins made a more heightened grip of the reality that surrounded him. He noticed and yet ignored me, letting his hot-blooded harlot crave for his attention.

If I was to be the feline predator, Sherlock was the hunter who pursued me for sport. An unfair game, yet nevertheless my favourite. 

Bathing in my own little fountain of mischief, I allowed my fingers to sneak toward his cane, brushing up and down the mahogany in slow, languid motion. My slender digits licked along the shaft and my bosom followed, pressing against the hardwood. I dragged myself up slightly to glimpse at my master from below: my Sherlock, always a sight for a famished girl; a colossus, intimidating, and breathtaking. Like a moth to a flame, I inched closer dazed by the light, wanting to bask in its radiance. 

The muscle in his cheek tensed, thick brows furrowing. A little squared wrinkle appeared above the bridge of his nose as he brushed through his dark locks with agitation.

“What ills that glorious mind of yours?” I hummed, playful fingertips climbing further up at the length of his cane.

“Something I can’t grasp,” he spat, not giving me the time of day. But I knew he noticed every detail of my wanton behaviour, it was evident by the way his breath swiftly became heavier. Sherlock might have solved crimes by profession, but all women were natural detectives; evolution granted us with a definite survival instinct, learning to read men between the shadows.  

“You can possess me,” I offered, fingers scraping over his thumb as it pressed onto the cane’s golden tip. My voice dropped to a whisper while my hand left the cane in favour of his thigh. The muscle flexed and twitched under my sinful touch, the fabric of his breeches stretched as his cock grew with its natural need to fulfil the wet, convulsing void in me.

“You’re distracting me,” he warned, voice low and stern. His lashes hardly even fluttered to my direction. 

Every delicate little hair stood up at the sound of alarm yet instead, I inhaled the soot of peril, allowing my hand to travel further and meet his hungry girth. It rose to my touch with gratitude, flinching even harder at the clutch of my claws. The flavour of desire was honey and salt on the tip of my tongue.

The low animalistic vibration of his voice wavered through his solid form. I felt it shudder all the way down to his swelling cock. A cautious man, Sherlock was measured and forbearing to a point that made me wonder if he even liked women at all before we fell into the vicious pit of decadence and violent delights. 

It was the contrary that was true: Sherlock loved women very much, his desires were simply… of a certain quality. 

His groin was warm and firm against my cheek. The crystalline-blue glare finally graced me with a sight so brooding my bones clattered.  

“Later, I need to work.” By the drop of his voice, I knew there won’t be a third warning. 

“Later, Later…” I taunted, rolling my chin over his aching need. “All work and no play…”

The gasp that pushed out of my lungs nearly whisked the candles off as Sherlock hauled me up by his hand and bent me over the desk.  

“Should I teach you how to respect my time?” He snarled, throwing the skirts of my dress over my head like a cape of the midnight sky. Stars collapsed under my skin at the sensation of his touch exploring the curve of my bare ass. Talons ruptured the tiny blood vessels, squeezing with the affirmation of his ownership. 

“No undergarments?” Sherlock growled dangerously while his thumb brushed over my silken entrance, toying with the rich elixir and smearing it further down my anticipating petals. I answered with a deep moan, stretching on this desk with a succumbing plea. 

“You came here aimed at disturbing me while I work.”

Settling onto the surface of the desk, I reached forth one arm lazily and chuckled. “You are a great detective, I… oh!” 

Something cold and solid caressed my dripping lips, driving between them in slow, calculated strokes. Throwing my head over my shoulder, I noticed Sherlock holding his cane against my sacred cove, staring at it as if I was yet another piece of evidence to be explored. The golden arched-tip pushed-slightly between my petals and entered just enough to make me hiss. For a mere second I wondered if he was going to fuck me using nothing but his cane.

“Look away; this is going to hurt.” 

I hardly had time to protest when the first smack hit the pillow of my cheek. A wheeze of disgrace shot from my throat, husky and embarrassing, but not as degrading as the sting the metal left at my burning backside.

“Bad girl,” Sherlock ticked his tongue and lifted the cane midway in the air, a flare of noxious desire bursting in his pale-blue orbs. This time I turned away and shut my eyes, gripping the edge of the desk until my knuckles turned dead-white. If only it did anything to dull the pain, the sting was even more prominent, shooting all the way up to my spine where it coiled and forced a strident yip from my clamped lips. 

Yet the throb in my cunt was unmissable.

Sherlock knew very well that the hurt allied with pleasure, enhancing it even, like his powdery magic dust. 

Another smack and my nails scratched at the wood. Like a sinner nun indulging her own beating, I rode the waves of pain as they broke onto shores abundant with pleasure. There were hidden cracks in our public figure, the place where I burnt and Sherlock ascended as we pried our claws into mortal deadly sins. My senses rose to conflict with every smack and Sherlock took joy in every involuntary squirm of my body. 

Tongue pressed between his lips, he hummed as he admired his handiwork, painting my ass in obscene hues of violence. “Had enough? Or want to see which will break first, the rod or your arrogance?” Sherlock chided and pinched my sore cheek to further increase the pain. 

Embers whispered beneath my flesh, my legs jolted from the intense beating and by god, the trickle of my juices rolling down the back of my thighs made even a sultry woman such as myself drown in white shame.

Sherlock’s breath was a heavy guttural waft. His cane dropped to the floor and I heard the sound of metal clicking as he fumbled with his belt. I would be damned if I let him fuck me from behind. To have those eyes look away as he entered me was a vice I wouldn’t stand. 

“No!” I yelled, bracing on my wobbly elbows as much as I could and turned to face him. 

Sherlock’s glare widened, a chill of ice blew through his eyes and his pupils dilated like a crazed feline. “You’re saying no to me?”

“Yes!” I heaved and reached my hands to cradle his skull, pushing myself against the hardness of his body and forcing my lips on his. My kiss was feral, bruising the plush skin on and around his mouth, nibbling and biting until we tasted iron on our tongues. It was not long before I was shoved against the wall, our mouths still united, sharing one breath.

Or rather stealing it from one another.

We were pleasingly unequal. Sherlock was all iron and stone; a bulky, tall man who could tear me apart with his bare hands. I was a little lush thing, so tender, so easily bruised. Despite his power, the desire to claim the tiny wet hole between my legs was unquenchable, reducing him to a savage thing that spoke in raw inarticulate sounds.

He tore his mouth from mine and swept me up from the ground, hiking the skirts of my dress urgently to expose what he coveted the most. I felt the supple velvety texture of his hardness grind against my thigh, smearing the pearly drops of his arousal onto my skin. We both moaned at the sensation and moved to the rhythm dictated by our most primal instincts.  

“You want my cock?” He growled and gnawed his teeth at my neck, biting deep enough to break through the skin. I whined in pain, my voice rising a pitch as I writhed against him to ignite the smallest of frictions and serve the demon of desire in me. 

“Fuck me!” I begged, sliding my fingers through the mass of soft curls and tugging them with need.

Answering my plea, Sherlock speared into my unruly cunt, brutally spreading me open like he would tear the petals from a flower. I yipped into his luscious hair, my nails tearing into his nape as his intrusion claimed everything my body had to offer. I always found it odd how my flesh would resist and beg for him at the same time, my succulent canal fighting to push him by instinct yet he only further rutted into me. He reached his hands to my sore ass to squeeze my cheeks apart.

“Such a tight little harlot,” he groaned, engulfed by my garden of mysteries. Moaning so loudly, our duet reverberated through the corridors of the house. His lashes fluttered with ecstasy as he pulled back only to force me down on his imposing cock, attempting to rip through my denial. Or it was to tame me as I clenched around his girth, accepting and resisting him at the same time. I was nothing but a vessel for him to fill, and he did so with a fiery passion, glaring straight to my eyes while thrusting deep and hard into me.  

Books fell from the shelves nearby as we battled against the wall, my legs sliding up and down his waist, spreading helplessly in the air until my boots pressed into his arse. One of his hands reached for my corset, tugging on the ludicrous outfit to expose my breast. Ravenous, he licked his bloodstained lips, giving me a stare that made my cunt clutch him harder before he sank his fangs to pierce cavities in my tit.

“No!!!” I cried out and gasped as he thrust deeper to punish me for my protest. His heavy cock hit a spot so deep inside me that tears instantly emerged and fell down my cheeks, the pang bringing through a spasm of odd relief. 

Blood and saliva smeared along my cleavage as he dragged his lips further, licking and then kissing every patch he bruised. I moaned breathlessly, throwing my head back against the wall as his nimble fingers surveyed my neck, laying small threats to show me how easy he could simply suspend my very basic need. 

But my survival instincts already flew out the window the moment he penetrated me.

His lips hovered above mine as he fucked deep into my body, our cries creating an obscure symphony as he continuously slammed into my hilt, harder and more urgent with every plunge. The tears that fell down my cheeks were tainted with the conflicting aphrodisiac that pain brought through. In that instant I was whole, gratified by the friction created of the collision of our wet organs.

“Do it!” I gasped and nodded through glossy stares, swallowing hard to gesture what he already knew. With a swift snap of his hands, his fingers were bruising on my neck and he slammed into me at a furious pace, giving no care for my broken screams. 

Euphoria tore through my soul, crashing like hot waves of eternal fire. I came apart around his thick rod crying for God and Satan at once. Sherlock never slowed down, not even as he felt the tightening of my ring around him. It only made him fuck me harder, burying his face at my collarbone, chasing his own rapture at a punishing speed, grunting like a beast. Finally, he shuddered and pumped me full of his thick, silky milk. The muscles of his behind flexed and he ground his hot load into my warm cavern, making sure I received every drop. My hands reached to squeeze his taut ass as my legs clutched him still, wanting to keep him inside me. 

As if he had any intentions of leaving as he moaned and spasmed inside me. 

Smoke filled the room as few of the candles died; the scent of ash and the musk of our sex seeped through our noses while we remained entwined, shaking in each other’s grasp. Breathless and damp with sweat, Sherlock lifted his face from my neck and glanced at me looking so vulnerable, almost appearing lost. I moved my trembling hands back to his face, my thumbs caressing his sharp cheeks. 

“I know I am harsh…” he murmured, his eyes digging into my heart with nothing but a gaze of despair, “but please don’t ever leave me.”

My face fell at the sound of his words, my lips parting with awe. My detective could solve the most outrageous crimes, and yet he couldn’t realise I was shackled to him for all eternity.