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viskarenvisla · 5 months ago

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Thirst - Chapter 5: His Fatal Addiction

Chapter 5 is a switch of perspective over to Yusuf Mizrah. We get a bit of insight into the Werewolf brain, how it functions and what he's experiencing in the midst of this tawdry, utterly forbidden affair with Monroe Carter. Yusuf is an unusual Werewolf in that he runs alone - this isn't an expression of strength so much as dysfunction, one that, to another werewolf, is shameful. He has his reasons of course, but in the face of the survival of species in the face of a circular, terrible cycle of cannibalism and predation among Accursed Beings, they aren't good reasons...at least not to one of his own kind. Enjoy.

“Are you full and sated?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“Shh…don’t ruin it, you loudmouth…”

Yeah yeah fine. She had a point though. He closed his eyes and placed his cheek against the top of her head, the roughness of her braids catching against his thick stubble, almost like velcro. Her arms were wrapped tightly around his torso, face nestled against his chest as she took in his scent. “Mmm, don’t go thinkin’ you’re somethin’ yet …just cuz you smell good.” Her lips were cool against his chest as she pulled his shirt down, pressing the chilling warmth of her kiss against his clavicle, and she looked up at him with begrudging sweetness.

You’re so pretty…why, why do you have to be dead?

“Take care of yourself, Monroe. Seriously…don’t let the wolf blood go to your head, alright?” He smirked at her, and she returned it with a smoldering smile.

“Get outta here Mizrah, go drink a bunch of water, kill and eat something.” The blood-flushed beauty of her smile faltered, crossing her arms under the sport bra covering her chest…the only thing she was wearing, in fact. “I don’t need you to be my blood-doll, you know. I can hunt just fine.” He wondered if she ever postured like this to anyone else, and Mizrah figured it was not part of her normal behaviors…such a petty declaration wasn’t necessary before him. She’d been this way for far longer than he’d been Afflicted, of course she could feed herself. He felt disturbing guilt quite suddenly; she’d called him something, a ‘dealer’. Getting her hooked, and he knew what the source of her addiction was: his blood.

Seconds passed as they held each other’s gaze…mortals may feel awkward in such a situation, but not for lions walking amidst the sheep; he was about to say something pithy when she stepped in, rose on her toes and interrupted him by pressing her dark lips against his. Mizrah descended into her kiss; passionate. Hard, deep, she released him and smacked his hard belly. “Go.” He didn’t bother with words, just fixed her with a smoldering leer that she returned before he opened the door to the motel room.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she barely whispered. He acted as if he’d not heard her, shutting the motel room door and swaggering confidently toward the elevator, thumbs hooked in his belt loops. When the car finally arrived, it was truly an effort to keep it together, and he stabbed the ‘close’ button fiercely until the doors closed.

THUD

The elevator shook, but thankfully didn’t halt its descent as Mizrah collapsed on his back, colorful spots swimming before his vision. The musician had maintained lucidity as long as he could and longer than most of his kind could maintain under these conditions, a particular survival advantage unique to his Strain. However, the Enkindled was badly drained. She’d been considerate and only taken small amounts each time they’d met, unlike the first time when she’d nearly killed him; the problem was that when she drank from him, it wasn’t just blood cells and plasma she was lapping up with that skilled, pretty tongue.

She tapped the primordial echo that thundered in his heart, the ill-omened howl at the beginning of time that warped and distorted flesh and soul; it manifested in the load of microscopic entities soaking his blood, his flesh. While they outwardly and genetically resembled Lyssavirus, it was all just a facet-manifestation of the Curse itself, excitations in that dread, multidimensional field that soaked all of reality with dynamic misfortune. Clearly, these excitations also affected the thirsty dead.

“Gotta…Hunt…Gotta…Fffffffffffuuuuck man…” Mizrah couldn’t let anyone see him lying on his back like this in the elevator when it opened - someone might steal his wallet, or worse…call 911. EMTs and cops were, outside of Head-Taker Conspiracies, the last mortals any Afflicted wanted to encounter, and they couldn’t always rely on Bedlam to do the work of muddling memories. Especially when paperwork was involved.

A willful thrust of his fingers up onto the metal handlebar…and they slid down the side uselessly. He flailed once again, feeling far less a deadly Night-Creature and more an up-ended turtle until, with a hiss of frustration, he willed his fingernails into talons and jabbed them into the metal. Hauling himself up carefully and almost giving in to the siren call of nausea, Yusuf made sure he was leaning casually against the elevator wall, summoning single-minded focus to stride with easy, confident charm past the welcome desk. “Shkran. Murih jida,” he thanked the trendy looking girl behind the counter in her paisley hijab. She gave him a look of mild disgust, inching away from the key card he tossed on her desk before stepping through sliding doors and into the muggy night.

The City.

Humanity and others called this warren of barren concrete Home or Feeding Grounds, but for Werewolves, The City held a special significance. Despite being incredibly dangerous because of its overpopulation of aggressive food-stuff organisms, something about the place spared it the horrors of the Lunar Strain. The alien things Lunatics summoned, Outsiders that descended upon ladders of foul moonlight, could not find purchase in this place.

The Curse and its accompanying burdens had, over the years, rendered him unable to properly absorb the nutrition and symbolic reinforcement of his nature from whatever the mortals ate. It was the eventual fate of all of his species to give in to Lalith’s Call and solely devour the flesh of other great predators; Mizrah thought he had a couple of years at least before he got to that point, but times of competition and bloodletting between the Strains and different Therids - that is, any shape changing beast - had refined the Monster caged in his heart through brutal survival.

The stink of The City’s streets pierced through the veil of his sensory filters, and he registered the stench of unwashed, chemical-soaked, deadly humanity. It would be easy to pick out one of the weak, drunk, or lost and draw them in, in a way similar to how Monroe had reeled him toward her, but Yusuf had long despised the act of devouring people.

Humans were often just as bad as your average Turnskin, each one a hateful little collection of petty wants…each ruled by a terror of being devoured by one of their own, since they were the undisputed rulers of the world and had nobody else to concern themselves with. In the Jungle, down here on the streets with the other Skinchangers, the same rules applied. As before, Mizrah had little choice but to participate in the cannibalism, or be cannibalized himself. At least he’d had like-minded Werewolves around him, once before, and it’d made night after night of violent, bloody hunts survivable…bearable. Sometimes even enjoyable, but thankfully Starvation numbed his consciousness to that loss better than any drug, or even the Vampire’s Kiss.

Yusuf fell in among the crowds, and it was like throwing a stone in a river. The extremely perceptive might pick up on the way people seemed to subtly move around him, avoiding his presence the way a herd of gazelles shun a lion that isn’t hunting. He had a destination in mind, only a few blocks away - despite its size, everything in the River District was within walking distance, more or less. Even if it wasn’t, at night the winding, ill-planned roads had a way of drawing you along until you eventually found where you were going. The River District was an obscene feast of vice upon which rich and poor alike glutted themselves to sickness, creaking on a concrete table in an ever-precarious state of near collapse; somehow, more souls ended up in its stifling embrace every year, and like a painted whore utterly drunk on herself she laughed that she could take more. Drugs, sex, drama - these could be found in the crevices of most cities, but it was their sheer abundance and the edge of danger that made the River District famous.

The Metropolitan Police rarely bothered with the area, and it was well understood that the relative peace - or at least enough stability for business to take place - was a result of dangerous, armed individuals willing to enforce it with hot lead. While most Werewolf packs kept their hunting grounds and expedition zones a guarded secret, there was enough abundant prey that certain areas were considered free-entry…a sort of open pantry of struggle.

Still…the food had been getting increasingly wary, and better organized. Alone, in the grips of blood-famine, he was just as likely to get killed as he was to bag dinner but…it wasn’t as if he had a choice. Not if he wanted to avoid being a maneater. That’s why he hopped on a crowded tram, squeezing through to a window as it moved down Water Street and made a swing to meander over the Stadtler Bridge…his stop was at the edge of the blight in a place colloquially known as The Barrows. Barrowster Heights, as it was properly known, was a spit of the industrial tombyard that had built this city. It was where residential areas and dangerous workshops, foundries and refineries had clumped together, and where old rent-control laws from the 70s made the apartment towers some of the most affordable in The City. Even with the departure of decent paying jobs to the ruins of former Communist nations and ‘liberated’ colonies, a lot of people still scratched a living here amidst the moldering concrete and steel.

Where there were impoverished, desperate people, there were Skitterlings. Colony. Nakhten. All were viable prey, but seeing as Mizrah was hunting alone lately, he’d have to go for whatever was weakest. Vulnerable, alone and stupid; and he’d have to be fast. Come on Yusuf…game face. You got this big guy, you haven’t eaten treifa in a whole year…what would mom say? What would mom say, indeed, if she had any idea her son was like this?

The tram announcer’s voice crackled over the intercom: “ Stadtler Bridge and Faulk, please watch your step as you exit the tram from the rear, thank you .” The message was repeated in Creole and Spanish. He slid through masses of people that tempted like hanging sides of beef by the time he’d shoved his way through the back door, before the street car chugged its way back across the bridge into more civilized territory. The tracks ended here because the roads were too pitted and marred for any semblance of public transit besides buses from the 20th century.

A lot of rough neighborhoods in American cities had a sort of flat quality to them; chainlink fences torn off their hinges surrounding overgrown yards filled with trash…parks built with well-meaning tax money that soon became needle infested and dangerous. The Barrows was different; most of the buildings on this crumbling rock were at least twenty stories high, many higher than that, with entire self-contained communities inside. Most had been constructed in the early 1990s and had that blocky, segmented look; forty years of harsh oceanside weather had corroded some of the abandoned ones down to their girders. The whole place felt like a gigantic Jordan Downs, or a district-wide Cabrini-Green, but the city’s architects couldn’t help themselves when calling upon the original builders’ French-Gothic roots.

His saunter became a careful walk as he pulled his hood up, hands in his pockets. A lot of people were just getting home from their jobs, and those who had the money crossed back over the bridge into the River District to gorge themselves on whatever was worst for them. Those who didn’t either languished here where the drugs and booze were cheap but shitty, and where a working girl was just as likely to mug her client as suck them off. His darker skin helped him fit in - an unfortunate reality down here in the Land of Traitors as much as in Yankeetown Milwaukee - but anyone from The Barrows recognize an outsider; almost nobody who didn’t live here entered if they could help it.

Tonight, he went relatively unharassed, aside from being cased for a while by a rusty, dark green Yukon with tinted windows; Mizrah just kept walking, kept his eyes on the concrete and his ears open, ready for the sound of doors opening or safeties clicking…people didn’t usually shoot first out here, but he wasn’t keen on being rolled up on, subjected to a street interrogation. So far so good as he hung a left and followed the broken concrete ribbon to the southernmost point of the neighborhood, where the old Stadtler-Grimes Park occupied a good portion of the oceanfront.

Stadtler-Grimes Park was The City’s attempt at Coney Island, although Theodore Grimes’ notorious fascination with the grotesque had colored his judgment as he aligned its interests with an old executive from the defunct Paulie’s Pizza Warren. The same old problems from Paulie’s had come to roost at Stadtler-Grimes, with mass cases of botulism from tainted pizza sauce, mysterious disappearances of toddlers on the Cheese-King’s Tunnel ride, and of course hosts of terrified, screaming children. The whole Pizza Warren franchise had actually, in fact, been a clever feeding mechanism for Skitterlings - the least fortunate of their kind. The Aspect of the Rat had robbed them of functions and habits that were prerequisites for being in proper society, and the Curse drove them to Nest in places like this; their position near the bottom of the food chain made them undesirable, if plentiful prey - the difficulty, as with all things for a Lone Wolf, was a limited set of tactics against their cunning.

Where the city’s attempts at governance had failed, a community of the least fortunate had…well, ‘flourished’ wasn’t the right word. Tents and shacks jutted like broken teeth underneath the ferris wheel; slats of wood had been nailed crudely between the ride’s spokes, granting some respite from the sun for those who huddled beneath. His heightened senses were keenly aware of eyes peering outward at him suspiciously, scanning him as mark or threat…but most of the locals had come to understand that outsiders were dangerous, and usually didn’t want anything to do with them. Besides, getting mugged by some mortals was the least of his concerns…these weren’t his Hunting Grounds.

The peculiar, sour scent of Skitterling grew stronger as his footsteps echoed between the empty fare stalls. None of the original merchandise was there and anything saleable had been stripped down to the nails; the din of the city was strangely far here. There was the crawling, churning gnaw of the ocean, biting slowly away at the concrete levies that kept The City from falling into the Gulf. Nobody came out to harass him so…he closed his eyes and changed the structures in his ears to better listen for that telltale skitter, their chattering communication

At first…nothing but the roar of the sea, the clatter of cars and the sound of old, defunct pipes and infrastructure squeaking and rusting in the wind. Mizrah was about to drift toward another spot when, underneath the old ferris wheel, he heard voices…coming up from underneath the grating he walked upon, unsurprisingly. Mizrah played it cool, even as his instincts screamed for him to rip up the street and chase the prey down to its nest…that only worked with a pack of his own, though. So instead, the dusky musician sat down on a concrete pylon that once held some statue (cut off at its plastic, molded feet) and sparked an American Spirit, letting the smoke float draconically around his head as he listened…the telltale odor of other Turnskins reached his powerful olfactories.

“...telling you man…the answers are Janet Jackson, Pink, Nikki Minaj - ”

“Are you kidding me Taps? What does Minaj have to do with any of those artists? You been hangin’ with that weird Fetters girl, she’s putting nonsense in your head…pass me the paste, would ya?” “Man don’t go trash talking her.” “Yeah I’m like…literally right here, Jove.”

They were clanking about noisily. Mizrah’s ears picked up on the crackle of one of those radio stations truckers and other traveling, working folks listened to, coming over a smartphone speaker. He opened his eyes, already ringed by amber as the Change began to work its subtle magic on his body. He could smell cheap beer, and the sound of a PBR can popping open meant they’d be pounding down tall boys…one of them, at least, would need to take a piss.

The operating stand underneath the ferris wheel…it held a little metal shack that he supposed grew hellish in summer. Remaining quiet was something of a chore for a man like Yusuf, who would have preferred the loud approach to…anything, really, but without backup he couldn’t rely on that. So…he had to be patient, and wait for a chance. Yusuf carefully tried the door handle to the operator’s shack - it simply came off in his grasp, and he caught it before it struck the metal platform, which would have surely sent the Prey scampering. The door scraped open unpleasantly as he tried to control it, squeezing his shoulders through and into the dusty, humid dark.

His eyes adjusted to the lightless little metal box; it stank of dust, hot metal and expired grape soda. A truly miserable little enclosure, he was already sweating by the time he slid the door shut, hunkering down with his back against the studded steel wall. Now there was nothing left to do but wait…his least favorite part. Yusuf Mizrah was not an ambush predator by predilection and lacked the patience to play this role but if he wanted to eat something that was actually satiating, he’d have to wait.

Nothing but the heat, this tiny space, and his thoughts. Without something specific to focus on, they tended to flow chaotically from one idea to the next, or sometimes they were just a jumble, crashing against each other like treacherous waters.

Monroe …she was so pissed off at him earlier, and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to disarm her every time with the heat of his passion; not without dipping into the Enkindled magnetism that was a facet of his Strain, but that was meant for Hunting, or use against others of his kind. The thought of ghosting her for her own good furtively intruded his thoughts, and he smothered and killed it. What if her weird, ghoulish kind got wind of the fact they were seeing each other and she was getting all hopped up on his blood? “I’ll kill them,” he mumbled like it was the obvious answer but down that road lay a short, bleak future of being hunted through the streets like a dog with silver. He had to quit her, but he just couldn’t face the sober reality of his isolation.

Dad …he hadn’t spoken to his father for over two years. It wasn’t as if things had ever been straightforward between them; there was too much difference, and especially after what happened to Mom the resentment was just too great. Memories of the man rose and fell vaguely; marinating lamb flank in Winter. Blowing into the shofar on Yom Kippur. Arguments over which friends he kept, arguments about his political views, about his musical tastes, about where he wanted to go to school…so much contention. Dad had no idea of the Curse that had befallen his son, he just kept on teaching and living that quiet, angry life.

Yusuf thought of other faces from his past, dredged up against his will and also because he didn’t want to hold back anymore; he whispered their names to nobody in the darkness, staring ahead at the featureless metal wall. “Mikey…Sadira…Avi…” as if saying their names would somehow conjure their ghosts, and in this world of flesh-shifting monsters…demons clawing their ways down on ladders of moonlight…the walking dead…you’d think there was a chance, but nobody came. He knew where they were…they were amidst the bodies floating in the Great Lake; he belonged there, with them, face down in the water, but he’d run away after the dust settled and he was the only one left standing. He never said their names out loud to anybody, like they were fragile and to do so would damage them beyond even death.

There was nothing left of those three, not even their families…he had nothing - many, many photos but he didn’t dare access that account to look at them. Mikey, Sadira and Avi had been his everything; they weren’t even like, romantic or sexual or nothing, just four souls in The Jungle whose song had harmonized perfectly…and now he was the only one left howling, down here on the Gulf Coast.

“You’re so far away…” he whispered, hating that his voice shook…hating the rumbling hunger in his gut that reminded him he’d been barely living.

“ I’ll be right back assholes, and don’t touch the purple pipes. That’s my project, you hear? Mine.” Mizrah’s attention was hauled away from his emotions, hearing hyper-attuned to the particular tenor of a Skitterling’s voice…their disguise was imperfect to creatures who could sense these things - scraping the bottom of the broken food chain that defined an Accursed Being’s relationships, their anxiety and paranoia did something to their voices…their movements…their dirty scent, lots of little hints that combined into one big, flashing neon arrow-sign that read EAT .

The tears dried in his eyes as his mouth watered, peering through the crack in the steel door at a skinny, tan man of indeterminable ethnicity emerging from a ditch. Squeezing himself through a hole no larger than a raccoon, it was hideous to watch as the concrete birthed him. The Prey wore a sweat-and-grease-and-trash stained gray pinstripe trucker shirt that read 𝐻𝒾 𝐼'𝓂: 𝒮𝓉𝑒𝓋𝑒. He wondered if this one was Taps or Jove…Fetters was a girl. It was a pity he’d heard their names because now the Prey was more than just a hideous simulacra of a man pulling his legs out of the drainage hole and shaking himself off. Mizrah watched as he pulled up his pants with jerky, meth-head motions, head dipping between his shoulders as his nostrils twitched. The rat-monster’s human disguise was imperfect to his practiced eye, and pressed quietly up against the metal door, staring through the crack as sweat dripped into his eye and over the hooked bridge of his nose. His mouth watered as he made out the little details.

The sickly green tinge in the corner of the Prey’s right eye.

The scaly, pink texture on the back of his hands.

The greasy smell of his flesh moving underneath his skin.

Then again…this Food had people he was close to. It wasn’t like in a video game, or a movie where the people who died were just extras with no story, even in this nightmare life he lived. Wolves, Rats, Cats, Gators…all the things that were associated with the Curse, they couldn’t just parasitize their Prey like vampires. A human could live their lives as prey for Bloods, completely ignorant (if not happy), but an encounter with a hungry Therid like him, or like this one he was stalking, ended in maiming at the very least; more often the Prey had to be killed and devoured.

Man-eating was something he never wished to do again, but it wasn’t like this was much better. What choice did he have, if he didn’t want to starve to death? At least Monroe, or Mikey Sadira and Avi didn’t have to see him doing this. Mizrah rose very carefully as soon as the male before him ducked before a dumpster to take a leak; the sound of his urine, its stench would hopefully mask his approach

Mizrah flexed a muscle no human had; his canines became long as a human’s last finger joint, his nails blackened and became cat-sharp hooks. The Change caused his eyes to unhinge as adrenaline flooded his bloodstream; heat soaked his body, the Enkindled Strain making this little closet a hotbox as muscle packed on

Move in for the kill.

It happened in the space of three seconds.

00:01: He burst from the metal locker, throwing the door off its hinges and badly scraping his arm against a jagged edge; the Prey looked over its shoulder, fear reflex spiking the air with adrenaline stink.

00:02: He was already on the other Turnskin, and they were tumbling and rolling on the concrete; Mizrah was by far the stronger, and had his talons digging into the Skitterling’s shifting face, muscles heaving as he pulled his head back and exposed his throat. 00:03 The Rat-man’s fingers found Mizrah’s forehead, scrabbling for his eyes to rake them desperately - he responded by biting down, cracking the joints and tearing them away, prompting a choked scream of pain.

It was delicious. Control, pity and mercy couldn’t feed him but this perfect set of ingredients could.

“ N-NO DON’T! PLEASE, PLEASE I DON’T WANNA DIE! ”

But it was too late. Mizrah’s jaws clamped down on the other man’s throat, silencing him as he dug into his windpipe, but he couldn’t close them all the way…he just couldn’t . Instinct drove him to be strong; guilt, human softness made him weak, punishing him with the lash of empathy.

Mizrah felt the Skitterling’s other hand come around and stab a thumb into his left eye, dirty claw popping it and splattering hot blood across the concrete - blinding pain as the Skitterling tore its claws across the side of his head, sending him rolling onto the concrete with pain. “AGH SHIT YOU BASTARD I WAS GONNA LET YOU LIVE!” the Werewolf shouted - the prey was already shifting though, turning into a fucking rat about the size of a small cat. With a flash of protean energies, he took the shape of a long-limbed black wolf and dashed after it, snapping his jaws shut around The Prey’s tail as it squeezed through a crack in the door of an old, closed down staff house. The Skitterling shrieked in high-pitched pain as he tore away the bony appendage, blood spurting briefly into his mouth. He crunched upon it, swallowing it down root and fur and all. It only inflamed his hunger…but by now the fucking thing had crawled into a pipe, or a crack he could never reach through. Mizrah growled and threw himself against the wooden door between himself and his meal, but even as a great wolf his strength flagged.

The other Skitterlings had probably heard the struggle up above and scattered, likely ringing alarm bells all through this part of the Pier and making his hunt all the harder…basically impossible. The black, bristle-furred wolf’s tongue hung from his mouth, mauled eye slowly reforming to stare with disappointment at the Park, now essentially an empty pantry. If he wanted to soothe his hunger, he’d have to get across the inlet to the old, closed down on-site mall but that was a far more dangerous bet since other Predators made their homes within.

Spider-Ogres, a coven of them in the deep parts of the mall…Nachten, roosting in the upper stories…in the flooded lower areas that were once meant to view the harbor’s mutated, strange marine life, Sobeks prowled for intruders and looters. With a Pack, all of these unnatural, changing beasts - some far enough from humanity that killing and eating them didn’t invoke the horrors of cannibalism and murder - were on the menu, and every Turnskin knew to fear wolf howls in the night.

Howls, plural…a lone Wolf was a pathetic thing, and he knew this. Everyone knew it, but Monroe didn’t - all she knew was the vague reputation for violence and struggle that came with him, but she had no idea how hard it was for him to Hunt, or the humiliation of doing so. Was this what it was like for her, when she drank from him? She’d been subsisting on his blood for the better part of a week now, careful sips after the initial glutting but he’d been avoiding eating properly because it was such an awful, unglamorous thing…and now, finally, it’d caught up to him.

He missed her. That, he hated.

Mizrah took his human shape, his left eye popping and sizzling as milky white gave way to a new, reformed iris and pupil. He leaned against the wall in the alleyway between buildings, feeling his strength starting to flag again; his will failing. A mortal would be easy to catch and kill, but how could he bring himself to do it again? Would he have to give in to Frenzy and sate himself that way, picking up the pieces afterwards or simply running away?

“Fucking pathetic…” the Enkindled chided himself, shaking his head and bending down to pick up his jacket; he heard footsteps coming from behind, down the pier and nearer the water.

“Fucking pathetic,” came a low voice - resonant and strong, spoken through gritted teeth. Mizrah looked up and quickly resolved the details of the other man coming his way. Bright red hair, neatly styled and combed…piercing green, no-nonsense eyes that glowed like acid…and of course, the few inches and crucial couple-dozen pounds of muscle he had on the musician made him easily recognizable. His face was stately and proud, intensity written across his expression - every movement seemed like it was restrained, as if truly unleashed he would break his environment.

“Big words from a big lackey, Adam,” Mizrah growled, tossing his coat back down on the off chance the coming confrontation didn’t ruin it utterly. “I don't have time for this again - ”

…but by then Adam was already peeling his apple-green polo shirt off his head, for the same purpose as Mizrah shucking his jacket, throwing it casually over the rail of a fire escape. The pale man was absolutely ripped , brutally and terrifyingly strong. No piercings, no ink, nothing but the patchwork of freckles along his broad, rippling shoulders; Adam's muscle-bound cuirass of a chest was cut down the middle by a stripe of crimson hair, disappearing underneath his leather belt supporting a pair of slacks that had to be hot in this weather. The Rabid Strain had a tendency to produce juggernauts such as this, who by their Fury relied on even blunter tools than he did. “Show throat, Yusuf,” he demanded, even as fur broke through his shoulders and chest, as nails became bone-white speartips, as he took a killing form that threatened to dwarf Mizrah’s…but it was a formality. Yusuf never showed throat, even though he knew Adam hadn't come alone.

He was already shifting into his black furred, deadly killing shape - there wasn’t much of a physical contest to be had, unfortunately; while he was somewhat faster than Adam, and able to flip a car with ease, the Rabid was more than able to tear a tank apart

Barreling at him like a train engine, he somehow seemed even bigger to Mizrah than last time they danced this bullshit tango; starved of the primal, deadly energies that gave him an edge, it wasn’t much of a contest. He hated that the other Turnskin somehow managed to make everything look all noble and knightly, even his anger had the tinge of some honorable righteousness to it

Any Werewolf could fight to some degree, and every lycanthrope's body grew specialized through survival…and he'd grown powerful hunting his own kind when the Lunar Strain had come. He fought them the same way Adam made to take him on, and while he had an advantage over the other Firstblood in the interdictions and incantations of their kind, his Rage was a quiet, subdued thing on an empty belly; as he was, he couldn't take his physical might beyond the bounds of his Killing Shape.

Adam's claws seemed to break the air as they came for his shoulders, but Yusuf caught them in his grip. The huge, crimson monster snapped his jaws at Yusuf's wolven face as he forced him to his knees; Mizrah's musculature bulged as he strained and twisted his body with a fast coiling motion, sending Adam slamming into the wall of the ferris wheel's metal shack. The red-furred monster’s weight caused the little building to simply disintegrate, and taking the only advantage he'd likely be able to tease forth in this fight, Mizrah's black-furred arms wrapped around Adam's throat and hauled him back, locking the monster in a half-Nelson and cutting off his blood supply.

A most non-werewolf thing to do, and it was working as Adam pulled forward, choking under the Enkindled's grasp. His acid green eyes stared at the sky, bugging in their sockets as his windpipe was crushed against his spinal cord…the Goliath began to falter..

Adam’s thigh muscles bunched, and he leapt upward to land on his back, smashing Mizrah underneath him and pressing the impression of his body into the pier…also a non-werewolf tactic, admittedly. The rockstar felt numerous bones simply shatter - ribs, sternum, his pelvis…dislocations and punctured organs as well. His body began to regenerate the damage almost immediately but it was enough for Adam to turn and maul him.

At this point it was over, but Mizrah wasn't the kind of Werewolf who gave up…a major problem for creatures of dominance and hierarchy. His strikes seemed almost disciplined and lined-up as Adam shredded through flesh faster than it could regenerate, smashing bones quicker than they could reseal.

Even in the Killing Form, he could comprehend the pain; the feeling of being utterly crushed. Both hands struggled to hold Adam’s one claw away from his face; the other dug into his guts, pulling them out in a fistful of red, writhing snakes, casting them across the concrete with a wet splatter. Mizrah’s hand reached out, seizing the other wolf’s face and closing down to tear away his flesh in a fur-and-muscle tinged splatter. Adam barely seemed to notice.

Surrender , the scarlet monster demanded…and Mizrah fought on

He snapped his jaws down on Adam’s wrist, twisting and snapping until he degloved it, tearing away three fingers that regrew before his eyes. The Rabid clenched his fist, slamming it like a wrecking ball across the black furred Enkindled’s face. Pounded into the rock, teeth sent skittering and regrowing, skull smashed and reconstituting...slower.

Surrender! Adam commanded once again.

Never . His body was starting to shut down…grievous injuries to his neck, his head and his guts were more than his body could keep up, badly underfed like this. The monster’s jaws were coming down toward his throat, even as he lifted a shaking, taloned hand to hook against his fangs to push back.

SURRENDER!

He refused, up until the moment the other werewolf’s fangs closed around his neck. His windpipe gave in with a crackle, and he choked on his own blood as Adam throated him brutally. Panic took the Killing-Form, his unnatural body struggling to repair itself as the other monster held him there, bleeding and gurgling, the fight leaving him rapidly.

Beaten, Mizrah struggled in his human form to close the rent in his throat - messy ligature and flesh wove together, giving him the luxury of being able to breathe again but he’d lost so much blood - again! - that he couldn’t make sense of his surroundings without remaining still. He didn’t even notice when Adam returned to his human shape, simply standing there with his arms crossed, glaring down at him in disdain; half his face had been clawed off, bloody strings of tissue showing his unnaturally white teeth…he hoped it hurt. Statuesque asshole , Mizrah wanted to spit, but the best he could manage was a choking growl.

He pushed onto his knees, coughing and holding his guts as they wound up into his stomach again. Fangs regrew painfully in his mouth as he cast a hate-filled glare up at Adam, who simply put a dress-shoe clad foot against his ribs and pushed. “Just stay down . I hate kicking your ass around every single time, but so help me Mizrah I’ll take your arm off - ”

“Enough, Adam.” A soothing, low voice broke quietly through the muggy night air, but it might as well have been the crack of a crystal-spiked, writhing whip. The Rabid backed off but all the same, cast a frustrated glare toward the voice, coming from a window, one story above

“Ariadne, he’s worthless, couldn’t even kill a Rat. We’re wasting our time on him.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He’d become used to this refrain, and wondered if they were playing good-cop bad-cop with him, only the distinctions blurred strangely when it came to these two. Yusuf’s vision cleared enough that he could make her out in the dim night, backlit by The City’s glow.

Ariadne’s lithe form rested in the frame of the window, looking down at them with almost feline distance. A lightweight, dark green midriff jacket sat on her shoulders, worn open with the hood up. It cast shadows across the teardrop-shape of her face, eerie heliotrope eyes staring through a veil of barely perceptible disturbance in the air as she turned and effortlessly pushed off the windowsill, descending to the ground with barely a disturbance of dust. She straightened…tall for a woman, nearly 178cm, her long, graceful body had the quality of a longbow carved from pliant, caramel colored wood. “What’s going on with you Yusuf?” Her even voice was, by all accounts, beautiful and smooth, accented by her sweltering homeland of Maranhão…subtly, for creatures who could hear over higher and lower frequencies than the human ear, they could pick up a hint of distortion. The subtle, reality-warping nature of the Behexxed was a constant warning at the edge of his senses. “Letting your Prey slip like that…and you usually put up a much better fight - nearly had Adam last time.”

“He did not,” the Rabid one countered with a raised eyebrow, frowning as Mizrah finally closed enough wounds to push to his knees and speak.

“ Klhhh… ” the tawny skinned musician tried, swallowing painfully as vocal cords reformed in more or less completion. “Been kinda busy trying to pay the rent, y’know? Sometimes life doesn’t leave a lot of room for chasing cats, bats and crocs.”

He hated how she looked at him with disappointment…he hated that she was attractive, her firm, pert chest clad in a dark blue sports bra against the heat, the coffee-colored flatness of her midriff and belly exposed; her lower abdomen was inked with the shape of a python made of 0s and 1s, drawing his attention to her hips…even beaten and humiliated like this.

I’m a fucking masochist.

“You should stick to what you’re good at Yusuf…music. Boxing. Being the beating heart of something important; not lying.” Ariadne shouldered a red backpack whose contents smelled incredibly alluring. Yusuf’s pupils dilated, and even his stomach and intestines - freshly torn and pulled back into his body cavity - growled with hunger. He was getting desperate, enough to consider accepting what he knew to be charity.

Adam’s judgmental, veridian stare from behind his Alpha, however, hardened the broken remnants of his resolve and dignity.

“I like being my own beating heart, thanks,” he continued to lie, legs shaky as he forced himself to stand…he almost couldn’t, digging his fingers into the edge of a dumpster. “You just have a way of catching me at the least advantageous moments…totally unplanned of course

She wasn’t buying it, he could tell as she raised a dark eyebrow. “Two weeks ago you took down the Lynx of Forsythe on your own. The packs were rambling about it, and barely fourteen days later you’re struggling to kill a single Skitterling…I recognize a starving Wolf.” Ariadne’s voice softened as she put a hand in his and pulled him fully to his feet, even going so far as to catch him when disorientation almost pitched him forward. "Forget about ideology, whatever hangups you have; you're gonna get yourself killed."

"Welcome to the Jungle baby, where everyone's someone's meal," Mizrah said with a wry smirk, lightly pushing her shoulder to take a step back - Adam glowered dangerously. He couldn't let her get too close, she'd break his resistance…she knew his loneliness, any perceptive werewolf picked up on it and most reacted with pity or disgust - her empathy was dangerous.

"That's childish. Just why, Yusuf?" Adam questioned with exasperation, but they'd been down this road before. "It isn't all about you man."

"Ohhh okay Adam, tell me who it's all about then," Mizrah countered, giving in to the worst aspects of his nature and already stepping up to the bigger Werewolf confrontationally - to his credit Adam Godwin didn't rise for the bait, so he pushed harder. "Everyone knows who ashed the first Blood, even if the others are too scared of your temper to say it." There…now the pale Celt was flushing with rage, shame.

"Enough, you two - "

"She bit my sister Yusuf."

"Yeah man, lotta good it did her. Look at how many are dead because you're a fucking savage, that's why I won't hunt with you - "

Adam's talons slashing through his face and sending flashes of red pain through his already battered form made him grin, even as he was nearly sent off his feet. His bright red blood stained the wet, dirty concrete, and he felt the other Wolf's fingers grab his collar…fury bright red in his eyes.

Do it. End it you piece of shit.

"ADAM!"

Ariadne's voice had the quality of a jaguar, roaring through a veil of ill, deadly will. She was on Adam, her own clawed fingers digging bloodily into the Rabid’s shoulder and pulling him back; the pain, and her dominance gave Adam cause to release the black haired musician, frustration and shame hardening his features…knowing he'd fallen for the provocation, given Mizrah yet another reason to proudly, arrogantly snub them.

"Go cool off by the water," she instructed him, pulling her claws forth from his powerful shoulder, flicking his blood off; he barely seemed to notice, the marks closing in seconds

"But I - "

"Shh. I know…I know." The Brazilian woman returned Mizrah's handsome, bloody sneer a distant, reproachful gaze. I know what you think you're doing , her hex-filled eyes said. She was an incredibly patient, persistent, stubborn Therid, even for the supremely assured Behexxed for whom fortune twisted and sang like the strings of Delilah's bass…but he was determined to be the snag in that web of assurance and control.

Adam made an inhuman sound, deep in his chest. With a release of heat and unlight, the green-eyed juggernaut became an enormous, red furred wolf. Head held proud, his wolven expression held fast his malice and frustration for the other Firstblood.

For a long time, neither said anything to the other…typical standoff for their kind

She didn't break the quiet because she was too good for that, and instead she untied the bandana around her arm and used it to wipe the blood from his face. He couldn't really deny her the inherent humanity of the gesture, and he contented himself to simply examine her elfin face. He couldn’t deny that the purity in her eyes was beatific, and he could tolerate letting her close because there was no malice in her and the armor was up over his heart. Ariadne was the only Accursed Being who fit this description.

"Alright, fine. You can have this one, since it means so much to you to win," she finally said, lowering the bandana and looking at him from behind the veil of dischonoia . "But you're wrong in the end, and you always will be."

Mizrah gave her a long suffering look as he picked up his jacket - thankfully untorn - from where he'd thrown it, shaking it off with a clank of metal buckles… ew , he thought with a displeased expression at whatever stained the sleeve. "I've seen what you're trying to do, and if it worked I'd say you're the one to pull it off Ariadne. But it doesn't work, we don't make governments. We're monsters. You don't even need to, the Food is plentiful but they don't stand a chance against a Pack…and like all you guys say in the ads - "

" No Outsiders ." They said it at the same time, but her tone caught him - something different about it. She was tenser than he could recall, and her hackles were rising, all atypical behavior for the Behexxed.

"What? What is it, what aren't you telling me?" He demanded, his tone finally souring.

"Shamrys went missing."

"So? Shamrys likes her quiet time." He knew the young, eccentric Night-Howler was almost obsessed with remaining unseen.

"She doesn't duck and run on her Pack in the middle of a Hunt."

That was true, but he'd heard stranger. "So maybe she got gotted - "

"She reappeared two days ago - rather, Theo tracked her to West Cardiff. She was building a 'Fane', wouldn't stop."

That was…alright, that was cause for alarm. His kind didn't usually engage in building projects - that drive was given to frenetic Skitterlings and carapaced Myrmidons, and really he knew where she was going with this. Werewolves were beasts of twisted mysticism and reflected a grand cosmic principle of accursed change; German metaphysicists and Plato had gotten closer to the nature of their existence than Darwin or Nachmanides and religious attitudes were unusual among most Firstbloods. The exception to this rule was, of course, the virulent, gibbering madness of the Lunar Strain.

Anxiety dug at him; the fall of Chicago had been predicated by the unstoppable spread of the Lunar Strain’s manifestation there, and those moon-maddened Werewolves completed their occult construction before he’d been able to unite the packs. When the Gloaming Stairway had been completed, a stilted, spiraling thing of crystalline moonlight and stretched, warped skin that crawled of its own accord toward the face of the moon, the Vicar had come down from the sky

The moon had turned red. The Vicar’s howl split the sky, and so many of his friends lost their dreams, their minds, everything that made them individuals and not the mat-furred, eye-rolling, gnashing freaks they’d been turned into. Those who'd avoided or resisted the Change…he could still see them, their bodies floating at the end of Navy Pier.

“What do you expect me to do about it?” he was getting tired, running out of excuses and ways to avoid dealing with this…he always had Adam’s poor temper as an excuse to refuse what she wanted, because he knew what Ariadne was always angling for, even if she never said it directly. Would she, now that he’d asked the Behexxed directly?

“Nothing, right now, because you can’t do anything about it. You’re too weak.” There was no accusation, no judgment, just the simple truth that raked his ego. He felt his cheeks redden with wounded pride, but she gently shushed him, shaking her head…he could see her think about reaching out to touch him, but she thought better of it. He wished she would; Mizrah’s emotions for her were complicated. No denying that he felt a pull toward her physically, the way her body moved with effortless vitality - it kind of reminded him of something graceful moving with diaphanous motions through the sea. She was elegant and tall, and her skin looked so smooth…for Prey she was a terror but for one of his kind, there was respite to be found with her, which made her rare.

He shouldn't have been thinking these things…fine to have multiple mates, but he already had an unhealthy thirst for a creature of the night - why further complicate it by falling for someone whom the Curse had especially touched? She probably didn't even think of him that way. Stupid thoughts…but the desire was there.

The structures she represented though…trying to bring together bickering, bloodthirsty groups of monsters who congregated in ultra-tight cliques into something resembling…functioning government? It wasn't natural. It didn't work for Turnskins - he'd tried and the price he'd paid in blood and dignjty…only to see everything fall apart into screaming, gibbering madness anyway.

She offered him the bag, reeking with Therid meat - he wasn't sure which - but Mizrah, with an even greater act of will than was required to stay on his feet, turned his nose up at it and pushed it away. "Keep your charity, and just quit tryin'. I'm not in the game anymore, especially not that game where you're set up to fail from the start."

"Yusuf…" that look she gave him, behind the chaos-flecked veil of her heliotrope eyes was at once utterly inhuman and yet far too close to his heart for comfort. Was she hurt that he was rejecting her help, and thereby rejecting her? Again? He didn't need to feel guilty because they were fucking monsters , but…he hadn't meant to.

She dropped the backpack, hands sliding into her pockets as they regarded each other.

"Don't let whatever sorrow you brought from Chicago kill you. We're not meant to run alone." The Behexxed turned on her heel, trailing after where Adam had stomped off and leaving him, again, in solitude. When she was gone, he stayed and wrestled with himself, torn between starvation and pride.

"See me now?" He muttered to the one who was once always there, watching, hearing him. "Sure hope not…" Mizrah swore this was the last time he'd accept this kind of charity. Ripping the top of the backpack open, he reached inside, took a handful of something rich and warm and twitching…it gripped him back, even as he lifted it to his mouth and gorged on the Accursed flesh.

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tricornonthecob · 11 months ago

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It’s dangerous to go alone! Take these.

#black cat #onyx the cat #its dangerous to go alone #cats

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blackwldcw · 2 years ago

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Blackarachnia as The Divine

“I will storm the Gods and shake the Universe” ― Euripides, Medea

#{ seduce & destroy ;; aesthetic }#blackarachnia aesthetic #ok listen #LiSten #this thought that onyx has been grooming ba to be a consort and eventual heir has been stuck in my head rent free for the past week #like in the comics they are powerful tm #and they question and that's dangerous #so what if they were discouraged from tradition in order to pursue science and be distracted by a war #what if idk #recent events were distractions #what if ba is just starting to realise how powerful they are now that they're older and onyx is sweating lowkey #i just love flipping the quasi- dare i say- monotheistic trope in the early early iterations of transformers where primus is absolutely #good and unicron is absolutely bad #and the primes aside from megatronus the fallen can do little to no wrong #what if it's more complicated than that?#what if chaos is a necessary balance to creation like how krishna vishnu and shiva all work together to uphold balance #and what if the primes were once mortal and had mortal failings #what if they still did #in this essay i will

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empyrean-thrones · 4 months ago

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My biggest fear for Onyx Storm is that it turns into a white savior plot

#jey speaks #onyx storm #We’re veering dangerously close to the edge I fear

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ghostofcinders · 1 year ago

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Heavens, any rendition of the Mortal Kombat theme has me thinking just much of that I listened to while writing my section of They Came from the Danger Zone! I don't talk as often about that as others (it's not a baby of mine), but I'm proud of my work there and I've no doubt people will adore it. The outline was heavy on Arnold, but then writers got in and each of us brought in what we love from the action genre as a whole. When it comes to me, said contribution had tons of John Carpenter, fighting games (Steel Dragon wasn't even a thing back then, so I saw it as a chance to do those in They Came From!), The Warriors, Tank Girl, and heavy metal. The result is really, really, good. I'm *so* gonna run it when it comes out.

#ttrpg #onyx path publishing #they came from #danger zone

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justblades · 6 months ago

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❝ THE GENERALS' COCKSLEEVE ! ❞

ᝰ. JIYAN x afab! reader x GESHU LIN

๋ᝰ. IN WHICH geshu lin tries to heal your hurt heart as you thought it was a one sided love with jiyan

ᝰ. SMUT, 18+ ONLY. double vaginal penetration, threesome, possessive! geshu lin, WC: 4.2k

a confidential expedition was sought in order to study the occurrences in the battle beneath the crescent. as there was no concrete evidence that recounts the whole of what transpired way back then, it was then decided the magistrate to take precautionary steps to delve deeper into the event.

as soon as the decision has been made, jiyan reaches out for you to talk in private. a secluded room freed from disturbances and lurking ears, a solemn look dances in his golden gaze. "the magistrate ordered for us to study the geographic location when the first retroact rain befell." he states as he shuffles the letter back to the envelope that he received from jinhsi.

a wax seal of ivory color engrained with the sentinel jué's design adorns the surface, jiyan's fingers trail the edges. you purse your lips tightly, reluctance slightly rising from your façade of composure. a tale as old as time, the jinzhou residents knew very well the story of the battle of the crescent.

what dawns in your perturbed mind was the former general behind it, the one deemed as the hero, the savior of all eventually leads the lives of the many to meaningless sacrifices. just the mere stories of those who witnessed general geshu's might would suffice to reinforce the thought on anyone that he was strong, mighty, that those onyx flames of his seared and tore through his countless enemies.

you're just as curious as the person next door. being jiyan's one of the few trusted rangers, you nodded, giving consent to the mission. the two of you will then embark on the journey once the sun rays peek through the bed of stars and the darkness.

it will pass . . . and so, the daybreak arises.

coming vis-à-vis with the general upon the agreed time to meet, the two of you swiftly weave through the vast forest, eliminating any possible tacet discord that might hinder your exploration progress with swift and haste. "we're nearing the norfall barrens now, be careful." jiyan reminds you as he treads forward, the broadblade hoisted at hand to prepare for any case of danger to come.

"yes, general." you reply as you manage to scan your surroundings carefully. as the ground beneath your feet starts to feel different the farther you walked and the olden structures welcome your vision with a faint light, the general looks back at you to confirm his observation. nodding in agreement, a sharp, gelid wind blows within, jiyan's teal locks ripple along the muted breeze.

"the magistrate ordered for us to not stay here for too long, as there's a possibility we might encounter larger waves of tacet discords." he pauses for a short while. "however, if we do not split up and make haste, we might lose the frequencies left behind the battle that might lead to potential clues. given that we're both resonators, we're capable of diluting the echoes residing within the field."

he stops in his tracks, explaining the pros and cons of the decision to take. naturally, he's gearing towards the advice of jinhsi, as it is true that staying longer in this place will expose the two of you in greater danger. but a part of him doesn't want to split up from you, worrying he'll lose a trustworthy, competent figure in the midst of this expedition.

having known the general for quite some time, you've come to understand patches of his personality as if it were the back of your hand. you'd notice in the slightest change of his facial expressions, even more so in his tone lacing his words. no matter how miniscule the shift is, you'll always be able to know. "fret not, general. i assume you know me well as i know you." you simply state, flashing a small reassuring smile to subside the doubt gnawing at his bones.

jiyan nods slightly in exchange. "understood. i'll contact you via your terminal once i'm finished with exploring the half of the land and you'll do the same with yours. if you come into trouble, just ring me up, i'll come to your aid quickly." you reach for the gourd behind you, double checking if its functions are working in pristine condition.

after enough preparation, the two of you then separated ways with no goal other than to stay alive, rush to the aid of your companion in any hint of trouble and lastly, to pick up clues that draw back to the event. you make your way to the west of the norfall barrens, focusing on your senses to ensure that the exploration would go smoothly.

darkness envelops the whole land, dark embers of faded crimson continually drift from one place to another. among the lingering eerie noises resonating in the field, a distinct voice surfaces - "so it is you."

goosebumps ride on your skin as you prepare into stance and hoist your weapon, eyebrows furrowed as sobriety exudes from your body. when all of a sudden, a towering presence appears behind your back, and as you take a swift turn to face your supposedly opponent and strike them down in a single swing, black and indigo violet flames set the barren lands ablaze, kindling with the littlest movements from the broadblade the person does.

you take a step back, a suffocating heat engulfs everything, the oxygen left in your lungs thinning. struggling to catch your breath, you ball your fists and cough repetitively - the scale of this power is far too destructive.

"still holding out? impressive. no wonder he picked you."

once you finally manage to stabilize your breathing, you enhance your physical body with your forte, bracing impact once the person finally engages with you head on. within a blink of an eye, strands of long, grayish white hair comes to sight, and a pair of honey golden eyes lock gazes with yours.

he closes in with immense speed as the two of you exchange blows left and right. the male grits his teeth as the corner of his lips twitch upwards, "commend yourself for being able to withstand a fraction of my flames."

a gut feeling kicks in, that the danger you were watching out for - was finally settling. you instantly reach for the gourd as an attempt to reach jiyan on the other end, but no avail, the mysterious figure was faster than you. he approaches from above, swinging once more, clashing with your sword as his broadblade defeats yours. he successfully unarms you and manages to immobilize you with makeshift of bindings to keep you still. your back crashes flat on the dry land, a sharp pang of pain striking on your torso.

met with utter loss, he draws closer to you. he reaches his bandaged hand to your face, "could it be . . ." and your consciousness gradually fades away. "general geshu lin?"

rousing from a shortlived slumber, you jolt awake as your eyes peel open, your movements feel minimized. you examine the surroundings, and then yourself - a special restraint encages the both of your wrists together, seemingly one that is made of advanced technology especially catered to confine resonators. you knew from one look that it'd be useless to try and break free and you no longer bothered trying. instead, you opted for any possible methods to escape.

"general jiyan would not be able to come to your aid today, unfortunately." there it was again, the hoarse voice that resounds to your ears like a nightmare fuel. you flinch as you see him within your line of vision once more, confusion washes over yourself, at a loss for words in response to what he said.

"general, why?" was all you could verbalize amidst the worry pulling back your tongue. you bite your lip and could not help but think about jiyan, who put faith in your capabilities only for you to end up like this. "you're asking the wrong question." he says and kneels lower to your level, driving you to a corner as birch walls meet your back.

it was a small cabin from no one knows where that he resided in, necessary supplies and equipment arranged in a chronological manner displayed on the shelves. a dim light illuminated the vicinity, it flickers in opposition to geshu's strong gaze. "i know you have an unrequited love for the general - but you know as much as any midnight ranger that love is not a priority in jiyan's life."

his words struck like sharp lightning aiming to your heart, crushing it whole into smithereens of pain as your world flips upside down. questions come whirring in your mind, such as: why does he know? how does he know? what benefit does this fact bring to him?

unfortunately, his claim was true. being by the general's side for several years, you've seen him be vulnerable, reliable, and resolute regarding whatever trouble may come in his way. his bravery to withstand the lurking unknown sparked your faded flame inside your heart. jiyan became the beacon of light in your muddled world, as the two of you brave through the obstacles with joint forces, in every long night.

the sorrow he faced that you shared with him - it was halved. the joys he witnessed that you shared with him - it was doubled.

"come, be my companion instead. let us eliminate together the darkness at bay." geshu proposes and inches closer to you, his masculine features coming into full view. this time, you could see him better this time, only now noticing details you haven't before. a small mark adorns his face under his left eye and a diagonal scar carves his sultry lips.

he looks at you solemnly, you could feel the proximity between the two of you increase, until he finally presses his lips onto yours gently. shock courses in your veins - the general's tongue makes way inside your mouth, lapping your taste as it twirls with yours, performing a tantalizing rhythm to which mewls were elicited from the drowning pleasure.

you try to retort in opposition to his actions, but your protest was silenced as his right arm snakes its way up to your torso, tearing the fabric of your clothing with little effort. he nestles your nipple within the warm palm of his hand, his calloused fingertips fiddle on the very hard bud.

after making a concoction of your salivas mixed together, geshu breaks the kiss, leaving a trail that connects your lips to his. "i-i can't abandon general jiyan from a petty reason. i did not uphold my duty all this time just so my feelings were to be reciprocated."

his aureate irises fixate on your features, "and you're loyal too. sorry, but i won't be as gentle as jiyan is to you." geshu crashes his lips on yours once more, this time, a burning carnal desire exudes from his aura, hands now exploring your body, removing the remaining worn out clothing as your tits spring free, nipples erect as glacial winds caress your skin. "so? have you two engaged in such an encounter before?" he manages to query in between heated kisses.

a muffled "no" reverberates and geshu immediately understands. a smirk creeps up to his face and pulls away, an idea slipping into his mind as he now buries his face in the crook of your neck. he asserts dominance as the general flicks his tongue all over the shell of your ear, proceeding to give the whole part slow, sloppy licks, as well as biting on the lobe to determine which you'd like more.

as if you were melting, you felt like putty in his touches as he continues to toy with your breasts. he savors your skin down to the sweet spot on your neck, putting pressure once he sucks on the part, leaving lust filled bruises. taking turns from licking, biting, and sucking, he finally gets his fill as his erection grows bigger and harder to restrain within.

a thought crosses your mind as his bulge brushes on your clothed region, maybe it isn't that bad, accepting general geshu lin's proposal, that is.

geshu shifts positions, he lays on his back as he makes you straddle his pelvis. "cat bit your tongue? i suppose i have to let your body do the talking from here on." heat rushes to your cheeks, embarrassment dawning as you, ironically, grind your lower region against his bulge, creating friction to ease the lust brewing in your lower stomach.

the confinements of the both of your clothing felt impeding to the satisfaction the both of you are chasing. no longer spending time to be rational, you let your emotions guide your next course of action - you strip down his black pants alongside his undergarment, revealing his girthy cock itching for action.

it was adorned by the most prominent blueish veins, it continually twitches, as well as very warm in contrariety to the chilly, tranquil atmosphere encompassing the two of you. you gather spit from the back of your cheeks, redirecting it past your lips, creating leeway for it to trickle down geshu's throbbing dick.

with heavy lidded eyes and blind guess if the accuracy was right, your drool drips down from the head of his cock down to the shaft, cloudy hues gracing it. you slowly wrap your hands around his length, carelessly curling your fingers as you stroke it up and down, starting slowly yet sloppily.

geshu's body tenses from the foreign sensation, his legs trembling and arms jerking. he shuts his eyes, indulging in the feeling as you continue pumping him, granting you low growls of pleasure from the male. meanwhile you remain straddling him, higher levels of libido rushing to your bloodstream as you pick up the pacing. "t-that's it—" geshu verbalizes with a faint voice.

he gets along with your momentum, thrusting his hips upwards in accordance to your rhythm. as he was nearing his release the faster it dragged on, he rises only to flip your frail body around, pinning you down against the floorboards. geshu's chest rises and falls continuously, panting heavily as he feels his release draw back, much to his wish. you've never felt so small and helpless before.

you could pick up every detail of his body language, yet heeded no mind for the embarrassment that was previously gushing in your system. your mind starts to feel dizzy yet carefree, as if like you've drifted far away from reality and only cared about nothing other than satiating your hunger for carnal desire. once geshu's breathing stabilizes, he presses your lips against yours again, relishing every drop of your saliva.

it was becoming messy, but still, the two of you continued like animals in heat. he bites on your lower lip and sucks on the part up to no end, granting him winces of pain mixed with pleasure altogether. a deep chuckle resounds, "quite daring for you to enjoy that."

"no matter, i'll proceed as i please now." he continues and sweeps aside your soaked panties, revealing a heavenly view for him to revel in - white liquids seep out of your slit, a certain pungent scent wafts into his nostrils. "your scent is everywhere." the general states as a matter of fact.

uncertain if that was to be taken in a positive connotation, he wraps his hand around his dick and slaps it against your folds lightly, tapping the very head on your clit. the littlest touches send you spiraling into bliss, a strong yearning growing within. "put it in." you whisper with a weak voice. geshu looks at you, surprised, even more so once you add, "please."

your melting expressions have long been engraved in his mind, as he guides his tip to your slit, the door of his cabin busts open, a strong force sends it flying to the other side of the wall. geshu lin lets out a hoarse laugh, "ah, look who's here!" almost as if he was rejoicing, he repositions the two of your bodies, now holding you up as you sat on his dick.

your sight becomes hazy from all the foreplay ensuing, weakening senses coming back as you saw the familiar hues of teal within your bleary vision. jiyan stands across from your lust-lost bodies, eyes enlarging into two full moons as shock was painted upon his masculine features.

he hoists up his broadblade once more, threatening geshu to let go of your naked body. "general jiyan, if you would not treat such a competent figure like her right, then let me do it in your stead . . . as i am confident that i can treat her better."

rivalry rose from the two males, "that is no way to treat someone." jiyan's words cut through the thick tension sharply, while geshu's brows knit. "you say that, but have you paid attention to the face she's making?" just as he finishes his question, he pushes your body against his cock, thrusting into your cunt with no forewarnings. the intrusion makes a lewd, sloppy noise, accompanied by your moan unintentionally slipping.

a surprising warmth expands through your insides, stretching your velvet walls apart as they mold around the shape of the general's cock. you throw your head back in immense pleasure as he fills you up, mind almost threatening to go blank. "if you want to take her back, prove that she'd want you to reclaim her away from my grasp."

"if not . . . i'm afraid this will be the last time you'll be able to set your eyes on her."

jiyan has always been a rational person, one of the many qualities that renounce him to be truly befitting a title of a general. yet, as he sees you get lost among the sea of pleasure geshu lin has been drowning you in, a sense of ache thrums his heart against his ribcage. with slow steps he took, he's now merely inches apart from you.

geshu continues to hold you up and still, while jiyan leaves a chaste kiss on your cheek first and foremost: a sight that the former general would rather not have seen at all, contributing to his annoyance. while you remained there, incapable of taking action as if you're merely just existing. with little mustered strength, you manage to wrap you arms around jiyan's neck as you loll him into a deep kiss.

a deep kiss capable of delivering human emotions through an intimate action, "general. . ." your voice was faint, yet he understood your intentions. he shuts his eyes and let his emotions take control, immediately fondling your exposed chest as the icy tips of his golden armor fiddle your perked up buds. a moan escapes, followed by even more as the light haired general thrusts in and out of you with great force, the tip of his dick kissing your very womb. "g-general!" you yelp in an attempt to cry for mercy, yet you were only met with more brazenness.

"now you sound like you're yearning for two inside your tight hole." geshu says, frustration lacing his tone as he clicks his tongue afterwards.

jiyan's breathing becomes staggered, letting himself loose as he licks your boobs with his wet tongue, poking its tip on your erect nipples. your body flinches, its sensitivity building up while you remain a moaning mess. even you, yourself lost track of which general you were pleading to for, all you want is to drift afloat into the euphoric seventh heaven, with no other worries in mind but having your thirst quenched.

"will it fit . . ?" he asks as he casts you a look of concern, eyes fixing particularly on your lips that have been stained by three salivas all in all. jiyan unbuckles the dyad belt adorning his waist, letting everything come undone while geshu continues to pump in and out of you, his strong hands grip the plush of your thighs rather tight.

you could hear his mewls from behind, yet your attention was taken by jiyan who's currently stroking himself at the view in front of him. he sheepishly watches you get your cunt pistoned by the former general, his aching erection protruding from the fine fabric of his boxers. " . . . put it in too, general."

the two of them, simultaneously, had their jaws fall agape in shock upon hearing such yearning words come out of your mouth. with a sense of responsibility burning within jiyan, he strips himself naked at this point in time - ready to heed your request. his hands glide all the way down to your inner thighs, his dominant hand's fingers brush back and forth on your dewed folds. he anchors his attention on your pussy alone, at how it flutters every time geshu's cock pounds you in and out.

his patience starts to wear thin, the same could be said for you. with watery eyes and melting expressions, you call for him once more. "please." you mumble, but was eventually silenced as geshu turns you to him and initiates an open mouthed kiss. the teal haired general ached twice as much for more pleasure as he finally spreads your lower lips open, making more space for his dick to go in.

the head of his cock kisses the outermost part of your walls yet you were already squirming. numbness strikes through your legs and quiver, but geshu lin stabilizes them with his one arm hooked on the both of your thighs. he shoots jiyan a frustrated glare, one that seemingly felt that spoke words of "what are you waiting for?"

with slow motions, he finally inserts himself into you, the shaft of his cock comes into contact along with geshu's. jiyan's eyes dared to fall, a titillating feeling wallowing his dick whole. "so tight." he manages to utter in between his hardly stifled, ragged breathing, evident that this feeling was overwhelming.

it was getting overstimulating within each passing minute, with two, fat, big cocks buried inside of you, warming and accompanying your velvet walls as one of them itches to move - geshu's tip crooks inside and rubs on your sweet, textured spot, rewarding the generals your strings of satisfaction. "ah— i'm cumming!"

perhaps it was too late when you said it, but geshu pulls out, giving jiyan a chance to fully savor your slutty hole. "i'll make use of your mouth for now." he flips you around, making you stand on all fours with your ass perked upwards, giving jiyan a full view of your aching cunt.

you shake your hips in desperation, wriggling around just to feel his tip come into contact with your slicked walls again. all the while you coil your digits around geshu's cock, starting off with the head by kitty licks on its little slit. the white haired general loses composure and restraint, hands finding themselves cupping the frame of your face, urging for you to go deeper. as obedient as you became once lust runs in your system, you finally lap all his length up, and at the same time, jiyan rams into you, continuing where he left off earlier.

more sloppy sounds emit from the intercourse as slurping and licking accompanied geshu's dick. sweat begins to trickle all the way down all of your bodies, both the generals' luscious hair becomes disheveled, they ramp their movements by a notch as jiyan performs such impactful thrusts, ramming with his balls deep in and as for geshu, he fills your mouth with his dick alone - both aiming to chase the familiar feeling of release.

jiyan's pacing transitions into a faster one, hands gripping your waist hardly that'll certainly leave a burning sensation on your skin later on. meanwhile geshu lin, he bucks his hips forward, the tip of his cock kissing the very back of your throat. tears then begin to well up in your eyes, burning your irises as your gag reflex was getting harder and harder to tame.

"swallow it."

"i'll shoot it inside."

the both of them says in unison, and finally, strings of their sticky cum sprawl all over your body's insides: one in your womb and another in your throat. the two generals took some time to let these events sink in their desire filled minds, dicks still not softening any time soon.

jiyan looks at your naked back, the supple skin of yours makes him want to do more; eventually succumbing to the temptation. he wraps his arms around your chest and pulls you to a tight embrace, chin rests on your shoulder blade. you heavily pant, the back of your head now laid on the plane of his chest. the two of you then look over to geshu lin, whose facial expressions say that he's in no way satisfied. reading the ambience of the atmosphere, a gut feeling kicks in and tells you that jiyan feels the same.

geshu lin closes in, kissing away the drool escaping past the margins of your soft, sultry lips. jiyan then does the same, softly nibbling on your shoulder, making you elicit a short whimper.

"now, tell us. which one of us do you prefer?"

#wuthering waves jiyan #wuthering waves geshu lin #geshu lin x reader #wuthering waves x reader #wuthering waves smut #jiyan x reader smut #geshu lin x reader smut #jiyan x reader #wuwa jiyan #wuwa geshu lin #wuwa x reader

3K notes · View notes

tpwrtrmnky · 3 months ago

Text

lockdown

[ID 1: Three-panel comic, first out of four, with crudely drawn stick people.

Panel 1: The sky is blue and peaceful, with some clouds. Someone says "Ah..."

Panel 2: An orange person with dog ears is laying on the grass.

Orangepup Dogsaturated: "Despite the weirdness, it's nice here.

I think... I'm enjoying my fate as an orangepup dogastur-"

They are interrupted by barking.

Orange: "Huh?"

Panel 3: A green person with dog ears and a tail, who is holding a gun, stands over Orange. There is a tree in the background and some windmills on top of a hill in the distance. The barking continues.

Green: "Comrade Hot Pink is sounding the alarm. Come quick. We're going on lockdown."

Orange: "Huh? What are we-"

Green: "No time. Now."

ID 2: Three panel comic continuing from above.

Panel 1: Orange is led by Green down some stairs from outside.

Orange: "What's going on? Expository doctrine please?"

Green: "It's too dangerous. Safety first, explanation after."

Panel 2: Green shuts a vault door as Orange and a blue person with dog ears and sunglasses, as well as some sort of bandolier and a walkie-talkie, watches. The room is a plain beige with a simple ceiling light.

Green: "There."

Orange: "ok can someone explain now"

Blue: "Allow me."

Panel 3: Zoom in on Blue, who looks down dramatically.

Blue: "You must understand, young Orange. As much as we wish to trust you, there are circumstances where safety for the commune comes first.

We are aware that you have certain... Rhetorical susceptibilities, and so could not risk having you make contact with them."

Orange: "Who? Who are they?"

Blue: "One who destroys discourse."

End ID 2, begin ID 3.

Three panels once again.

Panel 1: A split view of a loft and the bunker. A hot pink person with fluffy ears is speaking on the walkie-talkie, while an onyx-colored person with dog ears and long claws is aiming a rifle out the window.

Hot Pink: "Comrade Blue. Onyx is ready. Do we have majority ethical consent?"

Blue: "Take the shot. If we later vote against, I will take accountability for the decision myself."

Orange: "What"

Panel 2: A view of Onyx staring down the scope of the rifle from outside of the window, as Blue narrates.

"You must understand, Orangepup Dogsaturated.

There are many who despise us. Many who would do anything to see us destroyed."

Panel 3: The narration continues from a view from the outskirts of the farm area. A mountain is in the distance, and a pair of grayscale legs are in the foreground, framed by some tree trunks.

"The horrific lesson we have learned...

Is that there is no low that outsiders can be trusted not to sink to.

And the danger of this interloper lies in their ability to provide others with all the excuses they need to justify their hatred."

Interloper: "I..."

End ID 3, begin ID 4. You know what this image is by now.

Panel 1: The Most Illiterate Person Alive, a grayscale individual wearing a book on their head, emerges from the woods, saying: "I am the most illiterate person ali-"

They are cut off by a view of Onyx pulling the trigger, which results in a view of the bullet going straight through the head of the most illiterate person alive, emerging in a shower of gore.

This continues to be a crudely drawn stick people comic.

Panel 2: Inside the barn loft, Hot Pink and Onyx are contacting the others.

Hot Pink: "Comrade Blue, we've confirmed a direct hit! Target eliminated!"

Onyx: "Wait. There's movement."

The Most Illiterate Person Alive: "Holy.

Fucking.

Shitfuck."

Panel 3: A front view of The Most Illiterate Person Alive, blood seeping out of the hole in the front of their face. They are framed in darkness and surrounded by a menacing red glow.

The Most Illiterate Person Alive: "I cannot believe"

The text color is inverted and changes to a more hostile font.

"You actually thought that you had any chance of killing me?"

End ID.]

Start - Previous - Next

#cw blood #feels weird to have arrived at a point where I feel the need to have real content warnings on these comics #pills that make you green #ptmyg

1K notes · View notes

mamayan · 1 year ago

Note

You up? Give us some delicious yandere stuff 🙏 let's say... Fae King yandere and changeling darling 😏✨

This turned into a full fic :3 ~★ In honor of some monster fucking!

Yandere! Dark Fae King x Darling! Changeling

tw: NSFW • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Non-Human Morality • Kidnapping • afab Reader • Dubcon • Oral (F) • Grooming (reader is of consenting adult age) • Forced Mating • Imprisonment • Violence (not toward reader) • Implied Murder • Rough Sex • Praise • Overstimulation • Dumbification • Belly Bulge • Size Kink

Part Two: Here

“…hic…sniff…”

Dark eyes glanced into the cool night, curious as to what creature was disturbing his evening.

“…hic…” it came again, much to his chagrin.

The still lake reflected the full moon like a mirror. To his left, not too far off, he honed in on the disturber. Something small and curled up. Shaking. The oddity enough to catch his full attention as he stood silently. The night his home and prison as he swiftly left in a puff of smoke over to the location of his intruder.

You.

His first instinct to end your miserable life, a human somehow entering his domain and crossing his barriers, but upon a closer look… he realized you were of his own kind.

A changeling at that. An abandoned fae left to die in the hands of mortals. Few if any live to maturity like this, but your short human stature led him to believe your growth was surely stunted due to neglect. Young fae needed abundant love and care in their infancy, the first 100 years of life incredibly crucial for their development. Least they end up like him and his kingdom. You were even younger than full maturity, though your physical body had completed it’s growth, your magic was weak and juvenile.

You were making odd noises which drew his curiosity, moving closer to your form, face buried in your lap as you hunched over your drawn up legs. Your feet were bare as the edges of the water lapped at them. Clothing sparse and tattered, rags unfit for even a human, let alone a Fae nearing maturity.

“Noisy little thing,” he hums aloud, startling you as you jolt and nearly throw yourself into the water. Your neck snaps up, pretty face swollen and blotchy from tears looking up and up until you saw a creature looming over you.

Your scream is cut off by a clawed dark hand, slapping over your mouth and muffling the cry as you try to jerk away in fear and panic. He watches in mild amusement, snickering as you realize your struggle is futile and efforts dying down. “Scream if you like, but none other than I will hear it out here.” He assures ominously, thin onyx colored lips pulling back to bare his razor sharp canines and pearly teeth at you. His grin savage and delighted in your terror.

He watches curiously as your wide doe eyes well up with tears, the crystalline droplets spilling up and over your cheeks, soft lips quivering beneath his palm. You reminded him of an animal imploring their predator for mercy by revealing their underbelly. There was a word for it…

Cute. His mind conjured at last. He found you cute, a changeling bold enough to intrude into the kingdom of the corrupted. You hadn’t even dropped the mirage covering you, old magic from your biological family still covering your natural appearance to mimic the human you parasitized off the life of.

“Why do you cry little one?” He asks softly, attempting not to terrify you further and avoid his questions.

You hesitate, but his molten gold eyes seem to melt through your defenses despite his dangerous and beautiful appearance. “I’m wrong,” you sniffle, grateful when he removes his enormous hand off your face, the sharp claws tipped in gold frightening against your soft breakable skin. “All wrong… and I don’t know what to do.” You curl back up around yourself, as if he too will cast judgement upon you.

He awkwardly mimics your stance, curiosity blazing as watches you in fascination. You find the way his monstrously large form contorts to sit like you somewhat baffling and amusing, less frightened now that he doesn’t seem to wish you harm.

“How are you wrong then?” He pries further, cupping his defined jaw and leaning into his hand as he observes.

“I’m not…I’m not human—I’m a—a—,” you stumble, unsure if this night is even real anymore. The shock so great you’re still trying to cope.

“A faery?” He supplies, amused by the way you gesture with your hands, expression so open and easy to read. “A changeling raised amongst humans to feed off their happiness?” His deep voice purrs it happily, as if he’s glad for it.

He is. His hatred of humans not something he feels the need to hide.

You appear devastated though, “I didn’t mean to—I don’t want to hurt or make anyone unhappy.” You mumble miserably, tugging at your hair and skin, as if that will dispel the magic which hides your true appearance.

“That’s just how our kind is, we need that happiness to grow properly.” He rubbles, eyeing your shocked expression. “We also happen to be fickle creatures ironically, and if a newborn is thought to need too much care, it is pawned off on humans who have more patience.” He clarifies, smiling as you seem to take him in with new eyes.

“You— are you a faery too? You just seem…” he chuckles as you awkwardly trail off.

“Evil? Centuries ago humans once called me the devil,” he laughs, his dark hair falling into his face like a waterfall as he shakes the loose fluffy curls, his pointed horns jutting from the top of his forehead jet black and smooth like ivory. He was too beautiful to call a devil, though you supposed it could be because of that which he was deemed so. His every feature seeming to catch your gaze with it’s beauty.

“I was going to say different…” you trail off shyly. “You don’t seem evil to me at least.”

He pauses, taking you in again as you regard him with those harmless eyes still wet with drying tears. It’d been centuries too since he’d left his kingdom, the entrance to the veil this lake he occasionally comes up to lounge by. He hasn’t seen a human since then, let alone a changeling or uncorrupted little faery like you.

He likes those pretty tears. He finds it annoying you shed them for humans you should guiltlessly take from.

His smile widens, eyes glittering mischievously and nearly glowing as he leans closer. The smell of sugar and cinnamon wafting off of him as you breathe in, nearly gasping as your mouth waters.

“How’s this little one? I’ll teach you how to be a faery, to show you there is nothing wrong with you.”

His eyes, where they should be white are entirely inky black, golden irises with reddened pupils framed by dark thick lashes, looked sincerely upon you.

He seemed genuine and kind despite his towering humanoid figure which looked to be capable of killing you easily.

It warmed you though, the thought of wanting to belong strong as you nod with a smile.

“I’d be eternally grateful.” You nod.

Sealing your fate.

“Tell me your name.” He asks sweetly, because despite his menacing size and sharp teeth and nails, your new friend was nothing but kind and gentle with you.

“Y/N” you reply easily, letting him playfully ruffle your hair as he picks out the leaves which got tangled in your locks from your travels here.

When he repeats it though, wonderful shivers shoot down your spine. He smiles, cooing at you like one might a baby as a he teases, “Such a cute name for a cute faery.”

You weakly protest, but fall into easy laughter as he swiftly changes the subject.

He was discussing proper fae etiquette. The basics, to not say please or thank you or I’m sorry. They all meant you expected more from the other or wouldn’t reciprocate, and that was just bad manners.

His soft hands, which could easily cover your entire face, were settled on your upper arms, having sat you in the grass against his chest.

He liked holding you close. Your little figure so soft, and from the dark circles beneath your human appearance, he assumed the neglect from the humans you resided amongst was growing worse. It was bad for your development.

“You should come live out here, they are vile creatures you know.” He comments every time you visit, though he never forces you to stay with him.

“It’s because I make them unhappy…” you explain sheepishly.

He shakes his head, thick brow arching as he rolls his eyes. “You are nearly completely mature now, you suck no happiness from your surroundings anymore silly girl.” Your confusion was palpable as he sighs and further explains, enjoying the squish of your tender flesh as he lightly squeezes you.

“While it is true fae infants are quite the hassle to raise, it isn’t as tortuous as humans make it out to be. In fact, most fae will take their child back if not treated well by their human surrogates.”

You hum, relaxing back against his warm chest and breathing in his sugary scent.

“So why wasn’t I—,” you stop short, brows furrowed but no longer speaking.

He doesn’t pry further, leaning his chin atop your head as he looks out at the lake.

“You won’t tell me?” You push, annoyed how he dances around your question endlessly. Your companion close enough that you feel insulted he won’t reveal it.

“My name is not to be uttered aloud, least calamity befall this land~” he’s teasing, you know he is, but still he refuses to divulge his name. “I gave you mine,” you argue again, huffing as he chuckles and lightly shoves you to your back on the grass, leaning over you and caging you in beneath him.

The moon is bright like the first time you’d met, illuminating his other worldly beauty.

“If you wish to call me something, call me Master,” he laughs, his sharp teeth no longer scaring you, but making your thighs squeeze together whenever he flashes them. He acts nothing like an immortal being, too immature and jovial to resemble someone having lived for thousands of years.

“So why do you get my name, but I don’t get yours?” You question in annoyance, avoiding his kiss to your cheek by jerking your face away. He huffs, sharp gaze daring you to dodge again.

You do. Earning yourself a warning nip to your collarbone as you yelp.

“Mean!” You cry, pushing at his chest as he snickers.

“Yes little flower, I am very, very, mean.” He rumbles, chest literally vibrating much like a cat does to purr.

“You give me weird nicknames…” you mutter, giving up as he licks your cheek. You don’t fight it, even as it feels foreign to you, trying to accept this side of your culture.

He licks your neck, lavishing the point where your pulse races with wet kisses and you tremble and struggle to act unaffected beneath him.

His smile is dangerous outside your view.

“Star!” You giggle, his rumble of irritation not the least intimidating to you as you roll away.

“That is an awful nickname.” He hisses, face twisted in disgust as you throw out the most horrendous names you could conjure in your pretty head at him.

“Lumi!” He growls.

“Then… Kitty?” He nearly bites you, careful not to play too roughly as he lightly tackles you down.

“If I give you a nickname, will you cease your little game?” He feels his anger fade as he wraps his arms around your smaller figure, easily pulling you into his lap. You don’t even flinch, too engrossed in your amusement to care where he handles you. You nod happily, your wish finally being fulfilled.

“Very well you stubborn creature,” he chides, “In addition to Master, you may also call me King.”

You frown. Clearly displeased by the lack of intimacy in the name. He laughs, amused by your obvious dislike. He kisses your puffed cheeks, over your pouty lips, and down to your vulnerable neck. Snickering as he goes, adoring how you so easily become pliant for him.

“I am teasing pretty flower, there was a time long ago I was called Ava, will you settle now?” He asks, voice husky as he sucks a mark into your skin, your little whine flaring his desires.

A strong urge to press you down and mate you nearly overpowers his control, but he merely holds you close and breathes your floral scent in to calm himself.

“I still prefer Kitty…” His eye twitches.

“Ava… this feels weird…” he pauses, looking down at your small form still cloaked like a human. Weak beneath him, partially nude as your skirt is pulled up to your soft belly. Your thighs are spread and shaking, his lips sucking another mark onto the thin skin of your inner thigh while you writhe.

He had your wet dripping slit open to the night air and his lustful gaze, begging for his tongue to taste.

“You don’t want to please me?” He asks, purring as you pout but deny. You were such a good little girl for him after all, so eager to learn and soak up his attention.

He resumes, licking down your thigh until his face rested above the warm mound you so sweetly offered him.

“You’re being so good for me petal, can you keep your legs open or should I help you?” He doesn’t need to look up to know you’re shaking in arousal and embarrassment. He can feel the tremors through the air as you struggle to keep your thighs spread as he asked.

“I-I need help…” you admit, feeling terribly hot as he keeps licking you, except where you seem to ache for him to lick.

He easily shifts forward, arms wrapping around you and letting your legs rest over his shoulders as he finally lets his tongue slip out to taste you.

You glance down, choking at the sight and feeling as he lets his entire tongue come out, the appendage inhumanly long and colored purple. It feels strange, the wet slimy feeling of his tongue slithering through your folds, but when he nudges the tiny nub hidden above your slit, you moan.

It sends jolts of electricity through you, hips canting up so he can to lick there again, earning you a hearty chuckle as he obliges. Licking and even curling his tongue around it, riling you up as your tiny hole leaks arousal and drips down your ass to the earth below.

“You’re making a mess petal, do you feel good? Should I stick my tongue inside you this time?” You moan, feeling the muscle prod at your unused vaginal entrance, too hazy to bother responding. He doesn’t wait for your answer, letting the thin tip of his tongue lap and taste your heady desire before poking and wiggling inside you.

It has your legs shooting straight, back arching as he holds you down with one large hand placed over your belly and chest. He groans as he feels the molten texture of your insides struggling against his intrusion, trying to force him out of your tight heat as he surges forward.

The tip of his tongue curls, swirling up and knocking the air from your lungs as a rush of hot liquid spills from your insides for him to drink down.

You shook and twitched, moaning and curling your hands around his curved horns like a handle.

The touch sends blood racing to his cock, as he moans and loudly slurps your cum down with audible squelching, enjoying the cries you released into the quiet night.

He lets you rest as he pulls back for just a moment, your body limp and panting as your high comes down.

“Good girl~” he praises, leaning over you to kiss softly at your sweaty skin, licking that too and tasting the sweet and salty mixture.

Then he’s pressing his lips against yours, forcing them open to sneak his long tongue inside your mouth, filling it and claiming that space too as his own. You’re helpless to resist, delirious on pleasure as he devours you, wiggling muscle curling and rubbing erotically around your own.

He tastes like sugar and something heavier, more musky, as you come to realize it as your own taste.

“Is this… really normal…?” You can help but ask as he pulls away, his lips still sticking close to trail kisses across your skin.

“It’s quite normal little flower, are you shy still?” He asks curiously, lifting one of your small hands and bringing it to his face, his size dwarfing you considerably. He lightly nibbles on your fingers, making a giggle bubble up as you smile and then squirm when he grins and licks your hand instead.

“A little…” you admit honestly. Always so honest and open.

He nods, as if completely understanding.

“That’s alright, we’re in no rush, I’ll teach you slowly…” there’s something else not said in his words, and you’re left drunk on his pheromones and lips as he distracts you. Then he’s kissing down, discarding your clothing and leaving you naked for his mouth and curious fingers.

Your breasts are lavished in his saliva, pebbled nipples sucked until standing upright before poked down with the tip of his tongue playfully. Always so playful, Ava nips and teases your skin, blinking innocently when you moan and glare accusingly.

“It’s not my fault you enjoy this so much petal~” he pouts, looking comical and so harmless, his glittery gold wings, almost translucent behind him, fluttering as if indignant to your silent accusation.

The golden tattoos which marked his skin more visible tonight, his clothing more minimal in his wish to feel more of you as he explores and plays.

Then he’s parting your thighs and throwing you into ecstasy again.

“Who did it?”

You sat curled around yourself, terror and dread swirling inside of you at the new side of Ava you’d never been graced with before.

The side you supposed was reserved for his enemies, but now showed to you.

Despite your fear, the tears spilling down your cheeks, and the injuries you bore, you still remained stubbornly silent.

He was going insane with rage and anguish.

You truly were a flower. So delicate and easily destroyed.

“Y/N… while I am being reasonable…Tell. Me. Who. Did. It.”

For all the times he’d made himself smaller, less alarming and more charming than his true nature called for, it made this time more appallingly. He stood to his full height, like an unwavering tree he did not budge or allow you to leave, golden eyes flaring and mixing with his red pupils to create something alarming. Even the markings which covered his dark skin seemed to glow and match his eyes, magic crackling in the air and silencing the night further.

As if the stars and moon were frightened too.

Still, still, you did not speak, even as he closed in on you, your fear so strong it almost choked him. Almost. He was too angry, too furious with the humans he liked to cast out of his mind. They needed to be taught a lesson it seemed. Their fear of the Fae renewed. They were becoming arrogant, as if their species was even in the same standing as them.

Your pretty injured face and form, battered from abuse and humiliation, was all the information he truly needed.

If you wanted to protect them, and not tell him, then he’d just punish them all as if they were the culprits.

It soothed him finally, his decision made as the ominous energy around him faded slowly. He let his rage dissipate, worry and concern bleeding through now as he crouched and shuffled towards you, claws spread and outstretched towards you.

“Come here Y/N, keep your secrets, but allow me to hold and comfort you…” his eyes darkened, the glow leaving behind almost a copper color, somber as he looks at you. There’s not pity in his eyes though, as you swallow and sigh in relief, grateful to crawl into his warm embrace where it feels safe.

He’s gentle as he wraps you in his arms, lips and tongue soothing as he tastes your tears and blood.

He grits his teeth, focusing on your scent and the feel of you to calm himself again, before letting his magic seep into your skin. You easily absorbed it, soaking it up like a sponge as your pain and injuries heal.

“Ava—?” Your eyes widen, amazement in their depths which stroke his ego as he taps his forehead against your own. His horns slightly tangling in your hair.

“Do you not want to drop the illusion on yourself?” He asks softly, staring at the human image your portray. He didn’t want to admit it, but it enraged him to see you still trying to live amongst them.

You seem surprised, before looking away nervously.

“It just feels strange… to not see myself anymore,” you confess, burrowing deeper into his chest while enjoying his ability to heal and soothe you. His sugary smell lightening your heavy heart.

He nods slowly, eyes staring at nothing over the still lake.

He holds you a little tighter.

Then you’re asleep.

The burns and screams of the people echo, the night come to life with flames and chaos.

Ava stands leisurely, smile filled with fondness as he watches the human village he’d followed and found to be your residence burn.

He’d spent all night playing with them, listening to them confess the awful things they’d done to you, said to you, and tried to do to you. They even thought of sacrificing you to some nonexistent deity, which only prolonged the nightmare he’d turned the populace into.

He laughed as the sounds swirled into music for his ears, the sharp points curling in delight as he hummed a tune older than the trees towering in this forest.

The night was still coming to an end sadly, and he’d need to return to your unconscious body still where he’d left it.

He didn’t want to let you wake in your new home alone after all.

His body covered in the blood of mortals he’d torn into and feasted on, Ava left them to perish.

Alone you woke. In a bed four times the size of any normal one, within the walls of a palace you’d only ever seen depicted in stories told by faraway travelers.

You glanced down, at hands unlike ones you were accustomed to seeing. You were nude, unable to hide from yourself as you felt tears begin to sprout. The illusion magic wasn’t working, and you couldn’t understand why.

This body was your true form, not that of the human you continuously tried to convince yourself you were. You hadn’t showed Ava, too afraid he’d see your appearance and dislike you for it.

While he was magnificent, you felt puny and odd.

A hiss snatches you from your self loathing, eyes flicking up to land on the one you’d just been thinking of.

He was covered in something, though you weren’t entirely sure what until he moved closer. The pearls lining his chambers glowed softly, his appearance more vibrant as he closed the distance between himself and the bed you laid on.

You sucked in a breath, realization dawning as the red contrasts against his skin. His lower face completely smeared in it, but his lips seemed clean. Until he grinned, red stained sharp teeth with chunks of dark meat stuck in between.

You remembered briefly him mentioning being mistaken for a demon.

You finally understood as a strange fear blossomed in your gut and you scooted away. Confusion and terror consuming you, but your body not catching up with your mind, because it recognized his scent and touch. You didn’t move quick enough, a clawed hand easily curling around your ankle and tugging you close. You slid smoothly over the cool silk, brought close to his body radiating heat. He only wore trousers, his taloned feet bare and ankles revealed as he’d cuffed them up to avoid bloody human fingers trying to grip them.

“Oh my little flower, look at you,” his eyes are swirling melted gold, enchanting and so disorienting. His beauty becoming savage with the blood and human flesh he adorned.

“A-Ava…” you want to ask, but you also don’t want the answer.

Did he find out who hurt you? Or was it unrelated? It seemed too coincidental.

Your chest constricted painfully as he stared down at you in wonder. Your true form so lovely it took his breath away, your image so fitting for you it was a wonder why you didn’t prefer this over your human mirage. Your ears, pointed like his own, were curled down a little with your emotions, as his eyes traced your face.

The shape was the same, your body still so small, and your eyes still expressed every little thought without fail.

He hated to admit it was even cuter, though he mused it was likely because he was the first to see your true form.

An abandoned young changeling, one he only took mild interest in, had him so thoroughly ravenous for all of you now.

“Isn’t this more comfortable petal? Instead of masquerading as a filthy human, aren’t you happier to just be you now?” His callous words seem off, but you can’t quite fathom it all as the shock settles in.

“My precious flower faery, are you scared?” Yes, you wanted to scream, as his bloody face and body near you, his sugary scent over powered by the scent of iron and death. Fae hated iron. He shouldn’t be comfortable.

You choked, jerking back and trying to crawl away from him, but he still had your ankle caged in his hand.

He laughs, but it’s empty and devoid of any true humor as he stares down at you with something dark in his gaze.

He yanks you back, harshly and sending a jolt of pain up your leg as you cry out, pulled back beneath him as he crawls onto the bed over you.

He’s too close, nausea consuming you as you smell and see the gore adorning him.

He finds your useless fear amusing and annoying all at once.

“I asked you a question little flower.” He grips your face, smushing your cheeks and making you look at him.

He rolls his eyes as the tears you so love to shed spill down your cheeks.

“Yes… I-I’m scared…” his smile softens, almost becoming sweet and familiar.

“Good. You should be.” Your blood runs cold.

He has the mercy to bathe, but not alone. You watch as the spray of water from some sort of piping turns pink as it disappears through tiny holes in the marble floor.

He’s nude, like you, and even though you cower and try to turn away, he easily stops any and all retreats with hardly any effort.

“I thought you didn’t like the blood? I’m still not clean petal.” His fluffy curls are flattened by the water falling above, the warm spray soaking you both as you try not to wonder why the sticky redness won’t just wash away with the water. The dried portions difficult to get off without physically touching and rubbing him with your soapy hands. You wanted to know why he was doing this, being so mean.

His ears look more distinct with his hair flat, onyx horns prominent against his forehead as his lashes hold droplets of water to frame his golden eyes.

You try not to show it, but as the blood clears and his dark smooth gold lined skin is revealed, you notice the hard lines of muscle and purple veins which protrude.

You only come up just below his chest, and you can’t look down, least you see it again.

He was making you nervous and scared on purpose, but you couldn’t understand why.

Like a coward you didn’t ask either, because you feared the answer even more.

Ava shifts, fingers coming up to cup your face in his hands and tilt your head up as he leans over you and blocks the water falling. His claws jut out beside your head, one lightly tickling your pointed little ear.

He licks his lips, loving the sight of you soaked and naked, your pretty form so enthralling to his eyes he struggles to contain himself.

“Do you want my help…?” His tone is condescending, eyes uncaring in the least about your inner turmoil.

“Here,” he drops one hand, engulfing your wrist and forcing you to plant your hand against his abdomen. “You have to wash like this—,” he teaches patiently, like none of this was happening and everything was fine. He moves your soft little hand back and forth, the soap quick to wash away as the water continues to fall. “You need more soap petal.” He informs gently, moving to stop the warm spray and letting you both stand in silence now, drops of water falling the only noise besides your breathing.

He sighs when you don’t move, your eyes trained on the corner of the spacious bathing room, where an in ground bath rests. He would take you to the hot springs later.

He fills the hand he has control of with soap, and amuses himself with using it like a washcloth, your little fingers curling as your lips tilt down into a frown.

“Since you need the help,” he goads, watching as those sweet familiar doe eyes flash up a glare from the corner of your eye.

He smiles, a nasty grin filled with something sinister as he chuckles darkly. “Don’t want to be my good girl anymore?” It’s a loaded question you’re unsure of how to answer.

It hardly matters as he forces your hand down, until you jolt at the change in body part you were touching. He forces your fingers to close around his throbbing length, unable to touch or fully wrap around it as your head jerks instinctively to look at what he was making you do.

“A-Ava—,” you try to pull away, but to no avail. He only hums, the soap like lube as he uses your hand to jerk his cock, amused as you stare in shock. He won’t let you go, not when the sight of your smaller form holding his leaking rod is so arousing he comes a minute a later. Hips thrusting with the timing of the squeeze he forces your hand to hold, hot ropes of his seed shooting out onto your chest and belly as he cages you with his free arm from moving away. He allows his purple tapered tip to smear the remaining pearls of his seed on your skin, ignoring your whine of protest as he paints you.

“Fuck, that’s it, be good for me pretty girl,” he growls lightly, chest rattling as he releases his pent up frustration on your confused form.

Really, you couldn’t be more adorable covered in his release looking dazed.

His golden eyes heavy lidded as he crouches down to catch your lips in a heated kiss.

You swallow nervously, staring at Ava as he stares at you from across his bed chambers.

You’d fallen asleep after… after bathing, if you could even call it that, and awoken later to find yourself alone again. Ava missing and your body covered by fine silk sheets while you slept.

You’d scrambled about the room looking for escape, finding nothing but a single exit locked, which Ava now stood before.

He wore a pair of silken sleep pants, tailored to his enormous figure as well as a matching robe left loose and revealing a majority of his chest and abdomen. His wings weren’t physical but a magic which naturally formed behind him, you’d learned.

The gold markings on his body were duller than earlier, his eyes less vibrant and more cool as he looks at you.

He seems more… familiar. Less of the Ava covered in blood and flesh of humans and more of the one you’ve befriended.

He’s silent, unmoving as he stands still in the doorway.

You don’t want to make the first move, unsure in this new environment, but you similarly disliked all of this distance and miscommunication between you both.

You moved cautiously, much like the skittish animal he likens you to in his mind, off the bed. You’d wrapped yourself in one of his sheets, his scent clinging to you the only thing stopping him from tearing it off you in annoyance. He stays put, muscles taunt and jaw clenched as you approach him like he might harm you.

He debated it.

Briefly showing you why you should be obedient and just listen, but dismissing it in favor of you liking him at least to some degree.

When you reach him, he merely stares down at you, face impassive unlike your nervous and awkward expression.

“Ava…?” He finally shifts, leaning down to close the distance a little but still not touching you. It’s you who initiates, because he’s certain he’s trained you well enough in your past touch starved state that you can’t resist the comfort and warmth he provides. You wrap your arms around his waist, pressing your figure to his while looking up with those honest eyes he adores.

He finally relaxes, your touch so addicting he was unable to resist wrapping you further into his embrace while lifting you up. Your legs wrap around him instinctively, warm bare cunt now pressed against his abdomen while your arms come around his neck. The sheet loosening and falling down to pool at his feet. He finally smiles at your flustered state, not letting you climb down to grab it, instead moving you both towards his—your—bed and easily laying you down to drape over you.

“You’re calmer than I imagined you’d be…” he murmurs against the skin of your neck, kissing up to your jaw. “Should I prepare for your wrath later little flower?” He muses, lifting up to look at your expression.

“Was that blood… from a human?” You look guarded but he isn’t surprised.

“Yes.”

“Did you kill them?” He affirms again.

“Was it because of… me?” Those sweet eyes looked so haunted as you asked, as if you knew what he was going to say.

“No. It wasn’t because of you.”

You check his face, as if he were a human and would lie to you as they do.

“Then why did you do it?” You breathed, sagging in relief beneath him. His lips twitch, molten eyes shining with adoration as he looks upon you.

“They greatly offended me.” He answers vaguely, but it was the truth. They offended him by breathing and walking the earth. It was a direct insult to him. They only met misfortune because they caught his attention.

You seemed happy to accept whatever rid you of any guilt, looking up at him less fearfully now that he was clean and not being mean to you. Though, you both shared very different definitions of being “mean”.

“Am I staying the night?” You asked him curiously. You had thought he’d brought you here as he didn’t know where your home in the village was when you’d fallen asleep.

He shook his head, lips curling higher.

“You’re staying forever.” He declares, sweet scent filling your senses as he comes close enough to kiss you.

Then he does.

You thought his teasing was funny, lips tilting up finally as the awkwardness dissipates and familiarity rises.

This is your Ava, warm sweet Ava that smells so good it makes you crave sweets you cannot afford.

He presses you further into the unfathomably soft bed, his lips demanding as you open for him.

“Ava,” you break the kiss, breathing heavier as he growls and nips at your bottom lip, a shiver wracking you as he leans back enough to meet your gaze. “What we’re doing… it’s what lovers and spouses do isn’t it? At least, this is what human lovers do…” your voice becomes smaller as he stares down as you with an expression you couldn’t name.

“And?” He encourages.

You look away for a moment, gathering your thoughts before remembering out of all the cruelty in the world, Ava was the outlier.

“Is that what we’re doing? Like lovers?” You felt too embarrassed to directly state it, to say it aloud, and equally scared this isn’t anything different than exchanging a handshake with another faery to him. It was different to you.

“Do you want it to be?” He leans down, placing a feather soft kiss against your temple so you couldn’t see his eyes glowing bright. “Do you want us to be like lovers little flower?” His voice is deeper than usual, strained almost as he holds himself perfectly still above you.

You take the time to think, much to his displeasure, but when you answer it was everything for him.

“I do.”

He places a chaste kiss to your lips, his own tilting higher and higher until he’s grinning gleefully.

“Then that’s what we’ll be.” He confirms, and you miss it.

You miss every little trap he’d laid, each tiny piece of the puzzle forming around you like a cage. You miss everything and it’s too late to go back now. Ava muses wickedly, as he kisses you more sensually, lets his claws drag so delicately down your soft skin, he thinks how stupid you are.

“I’ll be all yours if you ask for it Y/N,” he speaks directly into your pointed ear, hot breath making the tips curl as you whine. The way he says your name is different than usual, more serious and seductive. You realize this seems wrong somehow, the way he’s making you melt so easily like this, how your panic and fear evaporated so quickly. You aren’t given time to think further, when he shifts and sits up. He sneers when you attempt to cover yourself again, gripping your wrist and lightly pulling you up too. On your knees, you face his chest, eyes looking up to see his heated expression.

Ava cups your jaw with one hand, and pokes at your lip with the other.

He doesn’t ask before his thumb invades your mouth, and you fight not to bite down or jerk away with his pointed claw inside.

He’s exploring, squeezing your cheeks until you open wide so he can playfully run over your sharpened canines. Curiously playing with your tongue until he leans down licks it with his own. It felt strange and erotic, your body vibrating with nerves and budding arousal as he explores you.

“Ava…” you wanted to touch him too, but he didn’t seem to be listening as he lets his hands trail down to cup your breasts, thumbs rolling over your nipples as your back arches into them.

So you let your own hands wander, bolder than usual as you feel his solid form beneath you. His skin is much softer than it appears, strange markings and golden symbols flat. He had no softer points aside from that, muscles like stone and occasionally uncomfortable to lounge against due to it.

He squeezes your waist, smiling mischievous as you yelp and glare at him. He does it again, finally chuckling as he lets his hands slip to your ass.

This time his squeeze makes you gasp, as he parts your ass cheeks and allows your heated core to be exposed to the air. His claws so careful not to tear your skin open as he drags you taunt against him, rutting his hardened cock against your soft belly.

He moans aloud as he sees the tip poke out between you, your breasts above a delicious sight as he does it again and again.

“You drive me wild pretty faery,” he smiles, licking your cheek as he easily lifts you up to toss you to the center of the bed. You sink in, huffing but giggling as he crawls over you, looking like a dark angel as he covers you completely to capture your lips in a much more filthy kiss.

“I want to devour you,” he purrs, licking and kissing down your neck and chest, spreading your legs. “Make you mine completely,” you moan, feeling delirious as he finally licks your sloppy pussy.

You moan when you feel his fingers prod your entrance, sharp claws gone and retracted as he pushes one inside you while he laps at your clit. It feels different and firmer than his tongue, able to rub and stretch you better as he begins sucking on your puffy nub and purring deep in his chest. “Your little nub is hard~ are you feeling good?” He teases, wiggling the tip of his tongue over your engorged clit.

Then he’s pressing a second finger in, a mild burn heating your core as you gasp and try to shift away to no avail. “So sensitive,” he murmurs, spearing them into you, your soft gummy walls forcefully spread around the two digits as he noisily slurps. He’s being messy and a bit rough, but your moans spur him on as he groans into your pussy when you begin clawing at his hair and whining.

“Ava! S’too much! Can’t—!” You squeak and almost bite your tongue when you cum, pussy sucking his fingers deep and massaging them as you soak his hand and face.

He doesn’t stop, eyes glowing bright molten gold as he watches you squirm and babble senselessly while he stuffs a third finger into your poor overstimulated cunt. Your little hole stretched wide around him, and he’s content to watch as your greedy lower mouth takes it as he pumps them into you.

You’re less amused though, body thrumming as the pleasure becomes overwhelming and you panic.

“Stop, I’m gonna make a mess, Ava stop—!” You cry out, eyes watering before tears fall as you struggle to stop the powerful pressure building in your core, hurting you with the intensity as he pushes you further and further. “Your insides are steadily swallowing and sucking my fingers in, aren’t you a little lewd?” He asks, unaffected by your dull nails digging into his forearm, eyes trained on your drooling hole below.

He’s got an iron grip on your hip with his other hand, nails digging into your flesh every time you try to squirm away. “You’re so lovely like this petal.”

He’s fascinated when you break again, clear fluid squirting up and out from your squelching pussy as he continues to shove his fingers in.

You cum so hard it nearly causes you to lose consciousness, eyes rolling back as you twitch and moan as the dam inside you bursts open.

You whine as he pulls free, hand dripping in gooey arousal as he brings it to his lips and slurps it up without any decorum, appearing almost starved as he gazes down at you with the eyes of a predator. “Messy girl~ I’ll teach you though,” his lips pull back to reveal his sharp teeth, “When you feel so good you think you’ll break, you’re supposed to say I’m coming, do you understand?” He asks darkly.

“No more…” your weak plea only makes him smirk, kissing you softly as he slides forward and uses both hands to cover your hips and lift your lower half up.

Your eyes feel heavy as you force them open, slow to realize that his enormous cock is now laid over your pussy, pulsing and dragging back and forth through your slick folds. The thick veiny appendage causes your trepidation to rise, realization dawning that he intends to fit that inside of you.

“It won’t fit—,” you weren’t being cute or coy, because while you may not be human, your form was still the same size as one. He was much, much bigger, and his cock certainly fit his proportions. You try to catch his attention, unable to close your legs with his body between them. “Ava,” He’s truly not hearing you at all, too enthralled and excited as he lubes his massive length up with your juices. He’s shaking a bit too, heart beating rapidly in his chest as he coos down at you mindlessly, golden orbs almost unseeing at this point as he lines up with your entrance.

“So good for me petal~ you’re all mine aren’t you?” He breathes, and you feel the weight and pressure begin as his tip breaches.

“Wait, stop Ava—!” You whine as the sting becomes a burn and then you’re being filled to the point of excess as you struggle to breathe anymore.

“Shh—♡,” he hushes you, pained as well due to the pressure around him, strangling him as he grimaces and drags back out a little before surging forward. “You’re mine now petal,” he groans.

You’re unable to form words as he works his cock into you like a piece which doesn’t quite fit, bullying and stretching you open to forcefully fit himself.

He leans more weight down onto you as you struggle and writhe, noisy cries falling on deaf ears as he feels himself slipping deeper as your body finally gives up on keeping him out. His tip touches your cervix, before shoving even further and smashing it up as your stomach aches in protest.

You lay limp as he finally bottoms out, twitching with your mouth open and drool pooling down your chin as you feel nothing but the feeling of him inside you. He huffs a laugh, the way you look ruined before he’s even gotten started.

You look like a doll in his grasp, his cock extending your stomach a little as it twitches inside you. Your thighs ache as they’re naturally forced up, unable to spread fully enough for him to settle so he’d merely folded you and pressed you down to prevent escape.

“You did it pretty girl, look at you~” he grins, one hand leaving your hip to press on your belly, making your eyes widen and roll back as you whine. “You took every inch of me in this cute cunt didn’t you?” This male over you isn’t familiar, even as his sugary scent seems to increase and smother you, he seems foreign in his words and actions.

The inconsistencies are difficult to track as he drags himself out of you, the fullness replaced by feeling each ridge and bump of veins decorating his cock as he slides out.

Then he’s pushing in again, stealing your breath and ability to think as he starts to fuck you.

“Don’t worry petal, I won’t hurt you,” you can’t quite understand as he pushes his thick rod inside you, brain shutting off as you go pliant in his hold. “I’ll go nice and slow so you never forget,” he moans as you tighten and jerk, “who owns you.” He’s holding back with all his might as you spasm and grip him in inside of you, walls sucking him back in as he moves to exit.

You make him forget.

As you slick his cock up with your juices, he begins to slip in easier, folding you down further into a mating press as he looks down at your teary face. You make him forget all the time he’s spent alone. Your moans increase as he picks up the pace, pounding nice and deep inside of you and ridding you of any thought beside him. He slips a hand down between you both, claws retracted completely as he softly presses on your swollen clit and throws you reeling into another orgasm around him. “Say it petal,” he grits out, the feeling of you tightening drawing his own end. He’s hardly able to move inside you, short thrusts all he can manage as he drags you over the edge.

“I’m coming—!” Your head tips back, neck bared to his eyes as you cum for him obediently.

He fills you up right after, heavy engorged balls drawing up as he pumps his first load of the day into you. His thrusts not stopping as he rocks forward, expression relaxing as his magic swirls inside of you, his mating mark slowly sinking into your soul as he works to keep his seed deep within your womb. You’re too fucked out to notice, the pleasure and pressure overwhelming your senses as you try to rest now.

Except his cock doesn’t soften.

He thrusts hard once he’s sure his bond has settled, feeling you so much deeper in his soul as he drags his cock out almost all the way. “It’s like your little hole misses me already,” he smiles, watching as you flutter around his tip as if to tell him you don’t want him to leave. “Tell me petal,” he slides back inside, jolting you awake as you stare incredulously down at where you both connect. The slick sounds of him slipping into your sticky wet entrance haunting as you whine, hands digging into fine silk as you try to push away.

He only presses you down harder, cock burrowing deep as if to anchor you. His eyes are wild and swirling, the color so bright it’s almost blinding in the dim room. “How does it feel to lose?”

You blank. His question not making any sense as the room spins and you’re overcome again with pleasure so intense it makes your toes and feet curl in the air where they rest.

“How does it feel to be utterly mine for the rest of eternity?” You gasp, tearing at the sheets as he picks up the pace, balls slapping against your ass as he begins to truly fuck you now. Enormous cock working you into a frenzy as you yelp when two fingers pinch painfully around a nipple. “You’re not going back pretty girl,” he laughs, face wicked and beautiful as you look up through blurry eyes spilling tears. “You’ll not return to that filthy human village,” he releases your sore nipple in favor of loosely gripping your throat, feeling your pulse beneath his hand. “You are not in the land of Fae sweet flower,” he lets his lips ghost over yours, his tip bullying your cervix as you writhe and move to claw at his shoulders. “You are in my kingdom, ours, where the corrupted Fae separate themselves,” you’re lost, eyes crossing almost dumbly as you come again, choking as you cry out his name.

You can’t move even an inch, unable to even squirm as you’re forced to take each punishing inch of his cock and he ruts into you.

“Your pussy keeps tightening up when I tell you all the ways you’re mine. Do you like this?” He delights in your pathetic attempt to push at his chest, clearly finished despite his balls still being heavy with his seed he intends to spill into you.

“A-Av-Ava!” You struggle to form even his name, let alone any sentences as he keeps up his fast and brutal pace. Though, from his perspective he was still holding back as he moans and spills himself inside you again.

“Yes flower?” He coos, pushing your hair out of your sweaty face as he pulls out just enough to grip your thigh and turn you on your side, sliding back to the hilt again. He hugs your leg to his chest, working his cock at a new angle in your abused pussy still spilling cum from earlier. “I’m listening,” he chuckles, knowing you can’t speak, aware his cock was keeping you like this.

Words die down as he uses his hand not holding your leg up to grip your hip, holding you still while pushing his hips forward, railing himself inside your exhausted body. Your head rests against the bed, mouth open as your saliva soaks into the sheets, eyes staring at nothing as you feel another impending orgasm approaching.

Ava doesn’t mind, adoring the cute cock drunk expression as he uses you like a toy, filling you up over and over while you slowly lose your mind. “I’m sorry—Ava please, I’m sorry,” your slurred speech and delirious voice make him laugh. Genuinely amused by your rambling, “Why are you sorry petal? I’m not mad,” he catches your lips, tongue invading and swallowing your cries. He finds you so cute.

His cute, stupid little changeling, so trusting and unaware of his unsavory intentions.

You lose consciousness and count when he comes with his hips pressed deeply into your ass, pressing you belly first into his hand as he keeps you angled up to meet his thrusts. Your sensitive chest rubbing against the silk below, body limp as your world goes black and you convulse around him.

This time he lets you fall flat into the soaked bedding, taking his still hard cock out so he can pry apart your pussy lips and watch his release ooze out of your gaping hole.

His golden eyes flick up to your sleeping form, lips pulling as he coos, “Cute~♡” before he’s stuffing you full again, merciless as he leans on one arm to keep from crushing you as he continues to drill into you.

Even when you regain consciousness, trying to crawl away from his torturous pleasure, he only grips your arm and twists it gently behind you to hold. “You’re soaked and so hot inside, do you know how crazy you’re making me?” He groans, almost sounding like he’s in pain as you squeeze and come again. “I’m not letting you go, stop trying to run. You’ve already lost sweet girl.” As he lifts his hips, tip still encased by your wet hot heat, he eyes the slick mess which coats you both and connects you to him. “Go ahead and go crazy too, be good and listen.” He laughs, slamming back in and making your back arch as you nearly scream, feeling him so deep it makes you wonder if he’s going to break you. You really will go crazy, it’s a fleeting thought stolen by his cock once again, but you truly worry as he drowns you with euphoria and madness.

He’s hunched and leaning over your back, letting his tongue and teeth tease your ear so sweetly while he pounds you stupid, whispering to you things you won’t remember.

“You wanted my name so badly, didn’t you my lovely mate?” He knows you don’t understand, but it doesn’t stop him from speaking on, husky voice lulling you as you cry and lose yourself to pleasure. “I’ll tell you since you’re being so good, taking my seed so well~” he lets a little more weight settle on top of you, his cock nestling into your deepest parts with it.

“I am Avarice.”

Post dividers by @cafekitsune

#Dark Fae King x reader #Yandere Fae King x reader #Yandere Fae #monster smut #Greed x reader #Fae smut #faecore #yancore #yandere x reader #fae king #yandere smut #Dark Fae #kinktober fun #request filled #afab reader #Fae x reader smut #changeling #changeling reader

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elixirfromthestars · 10 days ago

Text

Sink Your Teeth In Me

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Neighbor!Reader

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

Word Count: 4.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Today would not be that kind of day.

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

You would definitely need more than one drink.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Like what, doll?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Show me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bucky…please…I need more of you.”

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

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

“Fuck, doll, so ready for me.”

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

“Something the matter, doll?”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What about the party, baby?”

That about does it for Bucky.

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

Happy Halloween to you.

892 notes · View notes

thecupidwitch · 7 months ago

Text

Crystal Correspondences🌙

🔮Abundance

Agate, calcite, citrine, diamond, dolomite, garnet, jade, moonstone, peridot, rose quartz, smoky quartz, tourmaline, zircon

🔮Activate Energy

Amethyst, calcite, emerald, fluorite, labradorite, opal, pearl, peridot, quartz, tourmaline, zircon, kyanite

🔮Anxiety

Angelite, celestine, cuprite, hematite, jasper, serpentine, tigers-eye

🔮Astral Travel

Opal, sapphire, staurolite, quartz, hematite, barite, carnelian, fluorite

🔮Awareness

amethyst, ametrine, cats-eye, moldavite, obsidian, opal, quartz, smoky quartz, sodalite, topaz

🔮Animals (to work with)

Agate, cats-eye, diopside, hawks-Eye, jasper, labradorite, serpentine, tigers-eye

🔮Balancing

Agate, ametrine, apophyllite, aragonite, desert rose, tourmaline, opal, pearl, quartz, garnet, obsidian

🔮Banishing

Aquamarine, beryl, bloodstone, malachite, quartz, salt

🔮Binding

Diamond, jasper, jet, lodestone, obsidian, onyx, salt, sard

🔮Business and Employment

Bloodstone, emerald, malachite, tigers-eye

🔮To Calm and Soothe

Amber, amethyst, ametrine, aventurine, beryl, blue lace agate, garnet, hematite, moonstone, opal, rhodonite rose quartz, selenite, sodalite, topaz

🔮Challenges / Difficulties

Azurite, carnelian, diamond, lodestone, malachite, pearl, rhodonite, sard, onyx, smoky quartz

🔮Changes / Transitions

Amber, andalusite, amethyst, aventurine, blue lace agate, citrine, garnet, jasper, kyanite, white quartz

🔮Clarity

Amber, aventurine, aquamarine, beryl, diamond, hawks-eye, hematite, obsidian, onyx, sodalite, topaz, tourmaline, turquoise

🔮Communication

Amazonite, amethyst, angelite, aquamarine, azurite, calcite, carnelian, fluorite, garnet, malachite, quartz, topaz

🔮Compassion

Aventurine, celestine, cuprite, dolomite, howlite, jasper, rose quartz

🔮Confidence

Agate, Aragonite, bloodstone, blue lace agate, calcite, carnelian, diamond, garnet, labradorite, lodestone, onyx, tigers-eye, tourmaline

🔮Courage

Agate, aventurine, beryl, calcite, carnelian, diamond, garnet, jade, jasper, labradorite, lapis lazuli, ruby, sard, onyx, tourmaline

🔮Creativity

Agate, amber, amethyst, aquamarine, aventurine, calcite, garnet, howlite, smoky quartz, staurolite, tigers-eye, tourmaline, white quartz

🔮To Avoid Danger

Agate, malachite, obsidian, sard, tigers-eye, topaz

🔮Death / Ancestors / Afterlife

Amber, amazonite, carnelian, hematite, jade, jet, lapis lazuli, malachite, obsidian, petrified wood

🔮Divination

Amethyst, bloodstone, fluorite, hematite, jasper, jet, moonstone, obsidian, pyrite, quartz, tigers-eye

🔮Dreamwork

Amethyst, rose quartz, desert rose, diamond, onyx, sapphire, selenite

🔮Fear (to subdue)

Blue lace agate, calcite, dolomite, onyx, ruby, sapphire, sodalite

🔮Fertility

Carnelian, diamond, garnet, jade, jasper, moonstone, pearl, rhodonite, sapphire, topaz

🔮Fidelity

Diamond, garnet, lapis lazuli, rhodochrosite, sapphire, topaz

🔮Focus / Concentration

Amazonite, amethyst, ametrine, andalusite, beryl, fluorite, garnet, jasper, kyanite, lepidolite, obsidian

🔮Forgiveness

Angelite, chrysoberyl, diopside, lodestone, obsidian

🔮Friendship

Aventurine, blue lace agate, garnet, lapis lazuli, lodestone, moonstone, rose quartz

🔮Grief / Sorrow (to deal with)

Amber, apatite, aquamarine, carnelian, dolomite, hiddenite, jet, lapis lazuli, malachite, rose quartz, smoky quartz

🔮Ground and Center Energy

Agate, amazonite, amethyst, blue lace agate, calcite, garnet, hematite, lodestone, obsidian, petrified wood, quartz, tourmaline

🔮Growth

Agate, ametrine, amethyst, azurite, beryl, calcite, cats-eye, celestine, charoite, citrine, jade, jasper, onyx, opal, peridot, ruby, serpentine, tourmaline

🔮Guidance

Amethyst, ametrine, aquamarine, aragonite, beryl, calcite, jade, kyanite, lodestone, malachite, moonstone, pearl, sodalite, onyx, tourmaline

🔮Healing

Agate, amber, amethyst, ametrine, aquamarine apatite, blue lace agate, beryl, bloodstone, calcite, celestine, danburite, diamond, fluorite, garnet, hawks-eye, hematite, jasper, jet, lapis lazuli, moonstone, peridot, rose quartz, ruby, sapphire, sugilite, sunstone, tourmaline, white quartz, zircon

🔮Heartbreak (to recover from)

Aventurine, beryl, calcite, lapis lazuli, rhodonite, rose quartz

🔮Hexes (to avoid/break)

Emerald, jasper, jet, onyx, quartz, ruby, salt

🔮Home/Family

Agate, amazonite, apatite, blue lace agate, celestine, citrine, garnet, lodestone, malachite, quartz, salt, smoky quartz, staurolite, topaz, turquoise, zircon

🔮Insight

Agate, amber, cats-eye, jasper, moldavite, opal, sodalite, spinel, topaz, tourmaline

🔮Inspiration

Amethyst, aquamarine, calcite, carnelian, quartz, jade, labradorite, quartz, ruby, selenite, serpentine, tigers-eye, topaz, tourmaline, white quartz, zircon

🔮Intuition

Agate, amazonite, amethyst, aragonite, azurite, calcite, tigers-eye, labradorite, fluorite, moonstone, pyrite, ruby, sapphire, sard, sodalite, turquoise

🔮Justice/Legal Matters

Amethyst, aventurine, bloodstone, diamond, hematite, jade, jet, lapis lazuli, sapphire, selenite, tourmaline

🔮Knowledge/Learning

Apatite, apophyllite, beryl, cats-eye, charoite, epidote, garnet, sodalite, tigers-eye, tourmaline

Loss (to deal with) Ametrine, aquamarine, garnet, hiddenite, malachite, moldavite, rose quartz, smoky quartz, topaz

🔮Love/Romance

Agate, alexandrite, amethyst, beryl, apatite, aquamarine, calcite, chrysocolla, calcite, desert rose, diamond, emerald, epidote, garnet, jade, jasper, kunzite, lapis lazuli, moonstone, opal, pearl, rose quartz, ruby, sapphire, sard, onyx, selenite, tourmaline, zircon

🔮Luck

Agate, alexandrite, amazonite, aventurine, bloodstone, cats-eye, citrine, diamond, jade, jasper, jet, lodestone, malachite, obsidian, opal, pearl, sard, onyx, smoky quartz, staurolite, sunstone, tigers-eye

🔮Manifestation

Amber, amethyst, andalusite, blue lace agate, calcite, citrine, garnet, hematite, lepidolite, onyx, pyrite, tourmaline, sard

🔮Marriage

Aquamarine, beryl, lodestone, onyx, rose quartz, sard, onyx

🔮Money

Agate, aventurine, bloodstone, calcite, jasper, lodestone, malachite, opal, pearl, pyrite, staurolite, tigers-eye, tourmaline, topaz

🔮Motivation

Amber, calcite, celestine, fluorite, labradorite, serpentine, zircon

🔮Negativity (to dispel/avert/protection from)

Amazonite, ametrine, azurite, carnelian, charoite, dolomite, epidote, garnet, hawks-eye, hematite, hiddenite, jade, jasper, kunzite, lepidolite, malachite, obsidian, onyx, peridot, quartz, rose quartz, ruby, salt, selenite, smoky quartz, tourmaline, turquoise

🔮Nightmares (to ward off/subdue)

Chrysoprase, garnet, jet, lepidolite, onyx, sapphire, topaz

🔮Obstacles (to overcome)

Agate, azurite, barite, bloodstone, diamond, epidote, fluorite, malachite, moonstone, obsidian, opal. petrified wood, quartz, smoky quartz, tourmaline

🔮Optimism

Agate, beryl, cats-eye, chrysoberyl, citrine, dolomite, jasper, sunstone

🔮Past Life Work

Andalusite, cuprite, desert rose, howlite, petrified wood, white quartz

🔮Peace/Tranquility

Amethyst, aquamarine, blue lace agate, celestine, desert rose, jade, jasper, kunzite, lapis lazuli, larimar, malachite, obsidian, pearl, peridot, sard, selenite, sodalite, sugilite, topaz, tourmaline

🔮Prosperity/Abundance

Agate, alexandrite, aventurine, cats-eye, calcite, diamond, dioptase, emerald, jade, jasper, malachite, opal, peridot, ruby, spinel, tigers-eye, tourmaline

🔮Protection/Defence

Agate, amber, amethyst, andalusite, angelite, aquamarine, aventurine, calcite, carnelian, cats-eye, citrine, diamond, emerald, epidote, jade, garnet, jasper, jet, onyx, obsidian, quartz ruby, sapphire, sard, serpentine, smoky quartz, sunstone, tigers-eye, tourmaline, turquoise, zircon

🔮Psychic Abilities (to enhance)

Alexandrite, amethyst apatite, aquamarine, aragonite, beryl, calcite, charoite, citrine, desert rose, diamond, emerald, hawks-eye, jasper, jet, labradorite, lapis lazuli, malachite, moldavite, moonstone, obsidian, opal, peridot, pyrite, quartz, ruby, sapphire, smoky quartz, sodalite, tourmaline

🔮Purification/Cleansing

Amber, amethyst, ametrine, aquamarine, aragonite, calcite, charoite, lepidolite, moldavite, pearl, peridot, quartz, smoky quartz, topaz, zircon

🔮Reconciliation

Apatite, beryl, diamond, lodestone, quartz

🔮Relationships

Amazonite, amber, aquamarine, barite, beryl, chrysocolla, garnet lodestone, lapis lazuli, obsidian, onyx, peridot, rose quartz, ruby, sapphire, sodalite, tourmaline

🔮Remove/Release

Agate, aventurine, carnelian, dolomite, fluorite, moonstone, obsidian, peridot, quartz, topaz

🔮Renewal/Rebirth/New beginnings

Ametrine, aquamarine, bloodstone, calcite, carnelian, citrine, garnet, hawks-eye, hematite, peridot, petrified wood, quartz, selenite, serpentine, topaz, tourmaline, turquoise, white quartz

🔮Sex/Sexuality

Agate, Ruby, cuprite, garnet, jasper, rose quartz, ruby, sapphire, serpentine, smoky quartz, spinel, tigers-eye, topaz, zircon

🔮Spirit Guides

Amethyst, ametrine, azurite, barite, bloodstone, emerald, howlite, jade, labradorite, moonstone, quartz, salt, sapphire, sugilite, tourmaline

🔮Spirituality

Alexandrite, amethyst, ametrine, apatite, barite, beryl, bloodstone, blue lace agate, calcite, celestine, charoite, citrine, desert rose, diamond, dolomite, fluorite, garnet, lapis lazuli, lodestone, malachite, moldavite, pearl, quartz, rose quartz, staurolite, tourmaline, turquoise

🔮Stability

Amazonite, amber, amethyst, ametrine, azurite, calcite, celestine, cuprite, dolomite, garnet, jasper, kyanite, lodestone, quartz, rhodochrosite, sphene

🔮Strength

Agate, amazonite, amethyst, ametrine, aventurine, bloodstone, charoite, diamond, garnet, hematite, kyanite, lodestone, moonstone, opal, petrified wood, quartz, rose quartz, ruby, sard, onyx, tigers-eye, tourmaline

🔮Stress

Agate, angelite, aragonite, beryl, blue lace agate, celestine, diamond, dolomite, howlite, kyanite, labradorite, larimar, lepidolite, petrified wood, rose quartz, selenite, sodalite,

🔮Success

Agate, alexandrite, amazonite, amber, amethyst, andalusite, aventurine, bloodstone, carnelian, citrine, epidote, fluorite, garnet, jasper, labradorite, malachite, sodalite, spinel, staurolite, sunstone, tigers-eye, turquoise, zircon

🔮Transformation

Amethyst, angelite, azurite, blue lace agate, cats-eye, cerussite, chrysocolla, labradorite, moldavite, obsidian, salt, staurolite, sugilite, white quartz

🔮Travel

Aquamarine, beryl, emerald, jade, garnet, lapis lazuli, lodestone, malachite, staurolite, turquoise

🔮Trust

Amazonite, apophyllite, blue lace agate, charoite, diamond

🔮Truth

Aragonite, danburite, emerald, pyrite, spinel, tigers-eye, turquoise

🔮Unity

Amazonite, charoite, diamond, smoky quartz, zircon

🔮Well-being

Agate, aventurine, beryl, calcite, dioptase, garnet, jade, jasper, kyanite, sugilite, sunstone, zircon

🔮Wisdom

Amber, amethyst, aquamarine, beryl, blue lace agate, carnelian, chrysocolla, desert rose, garnet, diamond, dioptase, jasper, labradorite, lapis lazuli, moonstone, opal, petrified wood, quartz, rose quartz, ruby, sapphire, sard, onyx, smoky quartz, spinel, sugilite, tigers-eye, topaz, turquoise, agate

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ljubimaya · 4 months ago

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SLUT ME OUT𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

SYNOPSIS: Does fucking your bratty girlfriend into oblivion help her fall asleep even when her sleep shedule is shit? Draken says yes! C/W: fem! afab! Reader, established relationship, aged up characters (20+ years old), brat! reader and brat tamer! Draken, pussy spanking, orgasm denial, p in v, unprotected sex (keep it wrapped), tummy bulging, cervix fucking, reader doesn't have a great sleep schedule/implied insomnia, mentions of social media (tiktok, Instagram, etc.), no prep, Draken has a big dick, rip your pussy, MDNI!!!! W/C: about 3k A/N: this is super self indulgent and has been on my mind for the longest time :,)) I won't lie, this particular fic took me a while to write for some reasons, but I guess not every fic can just flow out of my brain directly into my google docs. Also, not proofread and kinda chaotic (?)

DRAKEN had enough. He’d toss and turn, unable to get a wink of sleep. Next to him laid, or rather sat, you, staring at the bright display of your phone watching the newest videos of your favorite creators. You’d scroll, switching between Instagram Reels to Tiktoks to Youtube shorts, trying to get your nightly dose of entertainment before you’d cuddle up to your boyfriend and fall asleep. Insomnia was a bitch and Draken knew that you did your best not to disturb his sleep, but it became glaringly clear that your sleeping habits impacted his. So really, it didn’t do much for him when you lowered the volume as much as you could, or the way you’d try and stifle your laughter at a particularly funny Reel. He was wide away at an ungodly hour with you, but unlike you, he had to go to work in six hours.

“Babe, you should go to sleep now” Draken grumbled as he turned around to face you “Phone-time is over” Draken reached and grabbed your phone from your grip before turning it off and placing it on his night stand. Once Draken turned back to look at you, the street lanterns barely illuminated the dark bedroom from outside. The blonde’s eyes quickly adapted to the dark, and all he saw was your pouty face glaring daggers at him.

“You can’t just take away my phone like that” you scoffed at your boyfriend “You’re acting like my dad. I’m a grown woman, and I’m more than capable of making my own decisions” Huffing, you tried to reach over the broad man to get your phone back, eager to return to the story time you’ve just watched. But you’ll soon come to find out that your boyfriend is not the right man to disobey.

Draken caught your hand before you could even touch your phone “Oh yeah, a grown woman? You?” He looked at you with his sharp onyx eyes. You saw an all too familiar dangerous spark in his eyes, a spark that challenged you to defy him. Fuck around and find out.

“Yes, me. Believe it or not, but I’m my own person” you exclaimed, trying to sound as firm as you can. This was dangerous territory, but you’ve walked that path numerous times and oh boy, did you want to fuck around and find out. Not that you didn’t know what would follow - you were certain about what would follow should you keep being difficult.

You pressed your thighs together, clit throbbing at the vicious glare your boyfriend threw at you “Who are you to even think you can boss me around?” That sealed the deal, you concluded from the way Draken leaned in closer to you. His gigantic form blocked out the window, the only source of light. You weren’t able to see much, but you didn’t have to. Draken was so close to you that you heard his even breathing, smelled the faint smell of the shampoo he used when he went to shower prior to joining you in bed hours ago, but most importantly, you felt him. You felt his rough hands on your thigh underneath the blanket, warm fingers pressing into your soft flesh. But most importantly, you felt his breath fanning against your lips.

“Yeah, you are your own person” His deep voice rumbles through the darkness of your shared bedroom, sending a shiver of excitement over your body “But I think you’re giving yourself way too much credit. You may look like a somewhat reliable, mature person, but you’re a brat through and through”

His grip on your thigh grew tighter. A mewl almost escaped your lips, but you didn’t dare make a noise. You didn’t want him to know that you got off to this, at least not now.

“And you know damn well I don’t like being disrespected. I’m not your father, but I am your boyfriend and I won’t tolerate this level of disrespect” Draken’s voice rumbled lowly, his grip on your thigh as firm as before “I’m gonna give you one chance to look me in the eye and apologize, brat” He spat out. The way your boyfriend put so much emphasis on “brat” made you feel tingles inside your stomach.

You leaned closer to him, looked him in the face - even when you couldn’t see well in the dark, you still knew where to look - and told him with the sweetest voice “No. I’m not gonna apologize for anything. I said what I said” You were about to ask for your phone back, hoping that would make him snap but you didn’t get the chance to. A yelp left your mouth at the stinging sensation you felt on your thigh. You were no longer able to contain your excitement; a lewd moan left your lips as his palm made impact with your thigh. Draken was on top of you, yanking your legs apart harshly, before your mind could even register it.

“Should have known you were being difficult on purpose” Your boyfriend grumbled into your ear, his fingers tracing lines over your clothed cunt “Could have just told me you want me to fuck you to sleep. Would have saved me my nerves”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m not being difficult”

“Liar” His fingers slipped past your panties. A sinful moan left your lips as Draken teased your clit, rubbing agonizingly light strokes over your throbbing bud. His fingers barely touched you where you needed him the most. A part of you wanted to drop the bratty act and ask - no, beg - him to fuck you, but you already knew that it was far too late to act like a good girl for him. So you committed to the bratty act.

“I’m not a liar-”

Gasps and moans left your lips as Draken slapped your clothed pussy, making you unable to finish your protests. The stinging pain aroused you even more. You wanted more of him.

"What was that? Didn’t catch that” Draken grinned wolfishly at your attempts to seem unfazed, but your squirming beneath his calloused hand and the embarrassingly big, wet spot on your panties told him everything he needed to know.

“I said I’m not a liar-” His hand landed on your pussy again. The hard slap sent a jolt through your body, slick seeped out of your pussy and soiled your favorite pair of panties.

“Hmmm, apologize for lying to me, and I’ll take off your panties for you” Draken’s deep, rich voice rumbled “If I like your apology, that is. Better start begging if you want them off”

“N-No, I won’t apologize” the words stumbled out of your lips, unable to come up with a snarky comment. Your refusal to beg would have to do for now.

Another hard slap landed on your pussy once Draken heard your whiney stutter. You mewled at the impact, loving the pleasure you feel from the pain. Your clit throbbed against the fabric of your heavily soiled like a second heartbeat, waiting to be touched again; but as if reading your mind, Draken his assault on your poor pussy. Instead, he roughly yanked your panties off your body, so much so you feared he ripped the fabric. You yelped as he manhandled you, pressed you into the mattress and took your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand.

You could feel his bulge pressed against your thigh as he yanked your legs apart, making sure to position himself between your trembling legs. Anticipation washes over you; you felt so excited to feel his fingers stretch you out nicely, preparing you to take his thick cock. You’re already imagining his long fingers pumping in and out, middle and ring finger setting an unforgiving pace as his thumb would be teasing your clit until you’d cream around his digits.

Instead of thrusting in and out of your weeping hole, his fingers hooked under the waistband of his boxers before pulling them down. Draken’s rock hard dick slapped against his toned abs. Your eyes have adjusted to the little light coming from outside, the cheap lantern lights illuminating the best parts of your boyfriend as you moved your head, desperate to catch a glimpse.

Veiny, girthy, with a big, angry red tip, leaking precum. Your mouth watered at the sight. Oh, what you’d do to have him down your throat…

You snapped out of your thoughts when you saw Draken give his cock a few, firm pumps before his hand moved back to the base, guiding his leaking tip between your folds. The thought of your boyfriend fucking you without preping you beforehand felt both daunting and arousing to you. Remembering the previous times he took you, you vividly remembered the way his dick would stretch you out uncomfortably despite him eating you out and fingering you beforehand. You could only imagine the damage he’d do if he didn’t prep you. So, your bratty act faltered as you opened your mouth, and hoarsely asked “Baby, what are you doing?”

Lust filled, onyx eyes met yours as Draken heard your small protests, a scowl adorned his handsome face “Teaching you a lesson” He groaned as he teased your folds with his tip “Since you wanted to be a brat about it, I’m gonna put you back in your place like one” Without warning, Draken pushed his bulbous tip inside.

Tears shot up in your eyes as you bit back a scream, feeling as if you were being impaled by him. You struggled beneath him, struggled to take him fully while he mercilessly forced himself inside you, and struggled to contain your moans bubbling out of your sealed lips. Despite the stretching, burning pain you felt the deeper Draken pushed himself between your walls, you couldn’t deny that you liked it. Your clit throbbed as you got stuffed full of cock, begging to be touched, pinched, slapped.

Sweat collected on Draken’s forehead. He felt somewhat conflicted about not loosening you up properly, feeling that he might be doing too much this time, but the grip your gummy walls had on him made it impossible for him to pull out. He didn’t know if it was either the lack of prep or you loving it that made you so damn tight - almost too tight- for him. Draken was sure of one thing though: he physically couldn’t pull out. He lacked the will power for it.

Lost in his own pleasure, your boyfriend glanced at your face. The nagging voice in his head demanded to know if you were doing okay. Below him, you were a shaking mess. A thin sheen of sweat covered your skin, lips plump and bruised from you biting them, eyes rolled back in sheer bliss and tummy bulging. If heaven was real, it would face in comparison to your blissed out expression, a sweet combination of pained and aroused.

“Oh, why so silent, brat?” Draken huffed “Where did your smart mouth go?” He groaned as he harshly thrusted the last remaining inches inside your weeping cunt, attentively watching your face. You weren’t able to hold the nasty, loud moan anymore. You tried to hold onto the pillows for leverage, but Draken’s tight grip on your wrists didn’t falter. Panting, you made eye contact with Draken. His scowl has warped into a cruel grin; he looked down on you like a wolf would look at a wounded sheep, ready to devour it.

“You’re so filthy” Draken mused, chuckling darkly when you turned your face away in shame. His free hand took hold of the bed frame, an action that caught your attention. You squeezed your eyes shut, anticipating a hard thrust out before he’d plunge right back inside you. But he didn’t. Instead, the grip on your wrists grew tighter, making you squeal in pain and look at him, glaring daggers at your boyfriend.

“Speak when you’re spoken to, brat” Draken growled “This is your last chance. Beg me for forgiveness, and I might be nice”

And despite his threats, he still saw a flicker of defiance in your eyes. He knew that you’d always be bratty to him, and you knew he knew.

“F-Fuck you” you meekly replied back, your voice faltering and shaky. You knew you were screwed when you saw the dark glint in Draken’s onyx eyes.

Wordlessly, Draken pulled out and rammed back inside. The first thrust knocked the air out of your lungs, the ones that followed after knocked your soul out of your body. Draken didn’t hold himself back, the might of his thrusts shook the bed you two shared. The old mattress that you two have been meaning to replace for ages let out loud, squeaky noises with every movement. The thudding, the squeaking, your loud sobs and Draken’s low groans were a guarantee for getting noise complaints in the morning, but neither of you cared; your brain fuzzy from the painful yet delicious stretch and Draken too focused on the grip your pussy had on his dick.

Draken’s balls smacked against your ass with each merciless thrust, heavy and full with his cum. His tip continuously kissed your cervix, which ended up heightening the pain and pleasure you felt. Feeling overstimulated, you knew you wouldn’t last any longer and come soon. While drunk on your pussy, Draken was still able to think somewhat clearly. He felt the way your walls grew tighter around him and heard the frantic moans that escaped your lips.

So he stopped right before you could come.

You whined desperately once Draken stopped moving, trying to grind your hips against him, to create a friction that could satisfy the overbearing heat you felt in your tummy. Much to your dismay, you weren’t able to move a lot with your boyfriend pressing down on you.

“Stop moving or I will pull out” Draken warned you sternly. He didn’t like having to postpone his own orgasm for the sake of teaching you a lesson, so he hopes he has cracked you down enough to drop your stubborn, bratty attitude.

A wince left your lips as you heard Draken, your hips stopping their movements. You looked up at him, teary eyed and frowning at his sudden stop.

“You didn’t actually think I’d let you cum after all the badmouthing you did” He scoffed, trying to suppress a grin. Oh, how he loved seeing you so needy. He absolutely loved seeing the real you, the desperate you.

You’d be embarrassed by the way your resolve broke so quickly, but you couldn’t think straight anymore. All thoughts in your head revolved around cumming on his cock.

“Please” you whimpered out “Please, I wanna cum”

“Nu-huh. You’ll have to do better” Draken rolled his eyes at you “And you better be quick. I don’t have the whole night”

And just like that, the dam broke. Beginnings and pleadings and empty promises bubbled out of your mouth, each word sounding more desperate than the previous. Music to his ears.

“I will never disrespect you like that again” You promised, sobbing as you ran out of anything to make him reconsider “I will always listen to you, I will always be obedient”

Of course, Draken knew that you were throwing everything and saw what stuck; he knew you would go back to your antics as soon as you wake up in the morning. To say he was unimpressed was an understatement.

“I’ll be good. I-I will fix my sleep schedule” you stuttered out, growing antsy at the lack of a reaction. You’ve run out of what to say to him to appease him “You wanted me to fix it, right?”

Draken could only scoff at you. What a pathetic thing to say “We both know that’s a lie. You know I hate lies” Draken could see the disappointment in your eyes “And to top it all off, all of those things you’ve said are lies as well”

“But that’s fine. I’m gonna make an honest person out of you” With that, Draken slammed his hips against yours, picking up right where he left off. Screams and cries left your lips as your boyfriend drilled inside you.

“If fucking your brains out every night is what will make you be good, I will do it” Draken grunted between thrusts. Draken’s pace was unforgiving, his thrusts angled to hit all the right spots. The sudden switch up on his demeanor left you confused, but who were you to question your boyfriend while he’s balls deep inside you?

Draken’s hips repeatedly crash against yours, chasing after his orgasm. He was usually so patient and kind with you, making sure you’d cum before him. This time, Draken prioritized his own high. So he fucked you like a dog in heat until he emptied his balls inside you with a groan. He shut his eyes tightly as he fucked his cum into you, trying to extend his orgasm as much as he could.

His cum shot inside your womb, filling you up nicely; so much so that the tight knot in your tummy broke. You mewled out his name as you came hard, your legs trembling and your back arched at the aftershocks from your intense orgasm. Your eyes felt heavy, and before you knew it, you passed out from sheer exhaustion. Sleeping soundly, you didn’t notice Draken pulling his dick out. He could only imagine the divine view of his cum leaking out of your pulsing pussy if it was brighter inside the bedroom.

Despite feeling tired himself, Draken pushed himself off your shared bed and went to the bedroom quietly, making sure you wouldn't wake up. After all, he gave it his all to put you to sleep. He returned -womewhat clean himself- with a wet towel and carefully cleaned you up. Your boyfriend silently watched you sleep, letting the previous events replay in his mind before he laid down and covered the both of you with a blanket. As Draken fell asleep, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph swell up in his chest. He finally knew what would get you to fall asleep, and he was very much intending at fucking you to sleep every night.

#mdni divider by cafekitsune #draken x reader #draken smut #draken x reader smut #tr smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x reader smut #tr draken #ken ryuuguji x reader #ken ryuguji #tr x you #x fem!reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokrev #tokyo revengers

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peachesofteal · 8 months ago

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ghoap x reader / 18+ mdni / dark themes / prev here

‘C’mon, you never want to go out.”

You rub your temples, eyes closed in exasperation. “I’m broke, Case.”

“I’ll spot you. Come on, it’s Friday. I’ll get us into The Rook.” She pleads and pushes, tugging away your excuses and defenses until you’re backed into a corner with nowhere to run. Finally, you opt for a different tactic, lamely.

“Doesn’t that place have a waiting list?”

“Oh yeah, miles long. But the owner likes me.” The owner. How does she even know the owner of The Rook?

“I don’t know…” you linger, still bent over your tiny kitchen table, back bowed and tired, “isn’t it like, dangerous?”

“The Rook is neutral ground or something, I don’t know. It’s perfectly fine, I’ve been dozens of times.” A litany of stories exists about the speakeasy, from its origins to the current clientele, each as unbelievable as the next, and you’ve always imagined it to be this dark den of sin and debauchery, filled to brim with hitmen and lawlessness. “You have to do something other than work and sleep; you know. You’re missing out on your whole life.” She chides, attempting to launch into the same speech she repeats over and over every few weeks.

“Alright, alright,” you look down at your torn up cuticles and sigh, “I’ll go.”

You weren’t wrong about The Rook being dark.

It’s hollowed out under a club, nooks and crannies and little hallways splitting off in every direction, dim lamps and flickering candlelight casting shadows to the ceiling, bartenders dressed in all black working behind a massive, burnished wood bar along the back wall. Velvet couches, high top tables, overstuff armchairs flow in the space, and Case tells you there are more rooms if you’re keen to explore, explaining in hushed tones how there’s usually a band in one, a card game of sorts in another, a pool table somewhere, all with various styles of seating, and even another bar. It's elegant, decadent, sinful. Most of the people are startlingly beautiful, high heels and skintight dresses, perfectly made-up faces, polished onyx cuff links gleaming against expensive navy suits.

Even the drinks are licentious.

You decidedly do not belong here. Perched on a stool next to Case, you occasionally rub your wrists, casually wondering if it would have been acceptable to wear your braces, your carpal tunnel flaring into a swell of agony.

Wouldn’t that be a sight.

The bartender slides her two generous neat pours of… something, and you raise an eyebrow.

“On the house, from the boss.” He says with a wink, and she tips her head to ceiling with a bubble of a laughter, before pressing one of the tumblers into your hand.

“What is it?”

“Probably bourbon.”

“Oh, no thanks, I don’t-“

“Just shoot it.” She throws it back with ease, showing her teeth afterwards, a hyena leering in the lamplight.

Fuck it. Maybe it will the throbbing in your wrists will quiet down.

It’s thick, syrupy, hot in your throat. Burns all the way down and settles like lava in your stomach, uncomfortable until the sting ebbs into warmth, moving through your bones.

“Not bad.” You rasp, and she smiles.

There are more free drinks. They stick to your insides like tar, slicking you in a heavy cotton, weighing your limbs down, loosening the tension in your neck and shoulders, peeling away your layers of discomfort one by one.

You’re surprised by how at home Case seems in this place, how comfortable she is, smiling and waving to the occasional person, making small talk here and there. She practically floats in her seat, black dress taut against every dimple and dip on her body, hair artfully twisted into something that could be considered modern art. She’s a gazelle. A heron. Something graceful and gorgeous, fine feathered and fabulous.

And you’re… a tired girl in a tired dress, counting her lucky stars that there seem to be so many generous patrons buying drinks tonight.

“Having fun?” She whispers, nudging you with her shoulder.

“How often do you come here?” Her eyes wander, flicking past you and then back, wistful caution etched across her brow.

“Often enough,” She sips her drink and then folds her hands together on the bar top, looking over shoulder, “Most of these people in here… are connected to organized crime somehow.” The information doesn’t surprise you, but hearing it confirmed, knowing it’s not just some story made up, some fairytale about boogeymen, makes you shiver.

“Like, the mafia?”

“The mafia is Italian, but they have a presence in the city.” She shrugs, like it’s all common knowledge. Like you’re out of the loop. “The Rook belongs to Kyle Garrick.” You shake your head, unfamiliar. “Of The 141?” your mouth goes dry.

The 141.

The 141 were a notorious organized crime group who ran half, if not more, of the city. You knew they owned clubs, bars, restaurants, and hotels, but you were never clear on the details of their illegitimate work, and you didn’t want to know.

You knew, for sure: they were men to be feared. Men capable of terrible things. Destruction. Death.

Their ongoing war with The Shadows was the reason the city was soaked in blood.

“Don’t worry,” she rushes out, hand on your arm, “like I said, It’s neutral here. Nothing happens in The Rook.” You nod meekly, head swimming. You’re more than drunk now, stuck in a sloshing ship, floor tilting beneath your feet. The urge to get away, to disappear slams into you like a truck, and you slip off the stool.

“Which way is the bathroom?” She points to one of those dark hallways, and you stumble through the throngs of people like a fresh born fawn, unsteady and teetering on the edge, approaching a hallway that splits into two.

Which way?

You pick one, sure you’ll run into someone who can point you in the right direction, but when it zigs and zags up to a polished wooden door, you stop short, confused. The alcohol has rendered you fuzzy, and your vision spins, trying to look for a recognizable placard.

Is this the bathroom?

It must be.

The first thing you realize when you push the door open, is a chorus of men’s voices, stopping on a dime. You hear them, before you see them, and immediately try to backpedal, tugging the door handle towards you, trying to close it. You’re wayward, with heavy, tired feet, and the movement is slow, slow enough that an opposing force pulls on the other side and then-

rips.

You fly forward into the room, dragged by your grip on the handle, spilling onto your knees with a shocked gasp, and someone curses in the background, another voice barking out a name.

Then, the room goes Sunday church service silent.

You gape at the table of men, transfixed in horror on the two familiar faces staring back at you, the unforgettable Scot and his marble etched partner, who was just in the shop only two days ago. They’re frozen, half risen from their seats, a cigarette burning away in an ash tray filling the air with smoke.

There’s a nickel-plated flash, and your blood curdles.

He has a gun.

“I…” you croak, still on your knees, unable to categorize or rationalize why you’re seeing them here, why one of them has a gun, why any of this is happening. “I’m sorry, I was lo-looking for the bathroom.” There are many men in this room, you realize. More than just the two you’re acquainted with, and your stomach rolls, nausea creeping forward, trying to bring the too many drinks you’ve consumed up through your mouth. “I’m sorry.” You say again, more clearly.

Obviously, you’re interrupting something.

“These aren’t the toilets, little girl.” A Russian voice booms over your head. “Unless you’re going to piss on the floor for us?”

“Nikolai.” The blonde cuts, Manchester accent rougher than sandpaper, and you shake your head frantically.

“N-no, I just got turned around, that’s all.” Your brain screams at you to get up, but your body is immobile, and you look away in fear.

A warm hand takes yours, tanned skin soft and sweet, gentle touch urging your face back up.

“It’s alright, doe. Ye’re alright.” It’s the Scot, crooning in your ear, wrapping an arm around your waist to bring you to your feet. “Let’s get ye to the bathroom then, aye?” You lean against him, breathing in cypress and ocean spray, letting him guide you out of the room, his partner right at your back.

“We’re not finished.” Someone calls out, and the bigger man clips out a response.

“We are now.”

#ghoap x reader #peaches writes #simon riley #simon riley x reader #john soap mactavish #soap x reader

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earlgreydream · 11 months ago

Text

His. | Loki x reader smut

I finally the Loki tv show… this does NOT have any spoilers, it’s set on Asgard with a newly appointed king and his coronation gift…

cw: d/s

“Leave any traces of fear in this room.” The command was clear, spoken sharply by a royal attendant.

Your gaze didn’t leave the fragrant water of the bath you knelt in, the attendant taking care to wash every inch of your skin. Other women pulled fluttering silks from a wardrobe, lying it out for you and finding jewelry to match. So much led to this moment, and yet it didn’t seem real — anticipation and anxiety buzzing in your head. You’d been told once already to contain the obvious fear that lingered in your chest, but the daunting task of doing so seemed impossible when your fate was waiting on a silver platter, the moment you left the private chamber you were being bathed in.

“Come, out of the water before your skin wrinkles,” you were hauled to your feet, wrapped in towels and rubbed down by several girls with movements so quick, you were barely left time to react.

Hands massaged your tense limbs, covering them in oils that bloomed with exotic scents, leaving your skin gleaming. At the same time, your hair was fixed, emeralds — his favorite — twisted into the locks and fastening to bare your neck.

“It’s customary to dress her in white,” a handmaiden spoke of you as if you were not there.

“The prince prefers black.” The will of your all-powerful god silenced any protest, everyone moving to do his bidding.

The women fretted — you had to be perfect for him. They prepared you to be presented to the god, as a divine gift to honor the crown prince of Asgard. You were bathed, decorated, and dressed, all to please the god you were gifted to, an expectation that you’d been bred for. It was a great honor to be taken from the hills, to the castle of the gods, to walk amongst the divine, even if it meant your role was to do as your master saw fit, obeying every command. You had come to terms with it, knowing that upon prince Loki’s rise to the throne, you were the sacrifice — the gift — of the kingdom, a promise of good fortune and favor granted in return.

It all seemed like a far-away, distant dream in a future that would never come. Despite that, here you were, relinquishing your whole self to Asgard’s throne. You had never met the god, and never seen him up close. Of course you’d heard the stories, the wrath and prowess of the young prince, and even seen him from a distance — but being in his presence was something entirely new, before being expected to spend the rest of time at his mercy.

Asgardian silk draped over your skin, so light you wouldn’t know it was there. Your decency was concealed beneath expensive black fabric, hiding what was only meant for Loki to see in the moments after this. The handmaidens’ fussing finally ceased, ending the long evening of preparation.

“Come with me, and do as you’re told,” the woman in charge ushered you forward, opening the chamber doors, releasing you out of known captivity into unpredictability.

You swallowed the fear in your throat, steps silent as you followed her to the throne room, the festivities growing louder as you approached your fate. Before you were given a moment to hesitate, you were led into the cavernous room of gold and heavenly magic.

All at once, it fell silent as soldiers escorted you to the throne. There he was — the god himself, draped over his golden throne. Loki was the only one adorned finer than you, a golden helm atop his onyx waves, wild cerulean eyes that bore straight into your soul.

“Your majesty, a gift in exchange for your benevolence,” the ceremony’s representative from your kingdom presented you to Loki, a hand on your shoulder forcing you to kneel before the throne.

A dangerous smile curved the god’s lips, placing his scepter aside as he rose to his feet.

“A very generous gift indeed,” Loki’s lyrical voice wrapped around your throat, stealing the air from your lungs.

He was impossibly tall and lean as he approached you, toned muscles visible even through the heavy layers of leather and gold that adorned his figure. Loki was no mere prince, but a god of mischief, holding an entire world in the palm of his delicate hand. A dark mischief glittered in his eyes, the gorgeous royal leaning down to look closely at you.

He tilted your chin up, looking him directly in the eye, immediately disarmed and vulnerable as you did so. His expression changed almost imperceptibly, gone from his eyes in a flash as he looked away from you, addressing the court who had handed you over.

Your ears were ringing too loudly to hear what he said, your head spinning. A solider moved to guide you to sit at the base of the throne, at Loki’s feet, when you were suddenly snapped back into the present moment.

“You will not lay a hand on what is mine!” Loki’s shout thundered through the chamber, stopping the man before he could touch you.

The soldier quickly fell back, recognizing the lethal danger of disrespecting Loki. An entire room held its breath, the seconds agonizing, exhaling only when Loki motioned for festivities to resume.

Despite the advice to hide your fear, Loki could practical feel your startled fright. Everything else blurred into the background, the celebration entertaining itself, leaving you and Loki at the center of your own universe.

Loki leaned down with an outstretched hand, his expression softening as you met his gaze. He had not yet spoken directly to you, but you didn’t need instruction to place your hand in his, allowing his strength to move you forward. Loki guided you to kneel at his feet as he resumed his place on the throne, slotted between his long legs.

Delicate fingers gently tilted your chin to look up at him, the touch startlingly gentle, a stark contrast to what you’d been warned of.

“There is a long night of festivities ahead, you may rest on me if you grow weary,” Loki granted you permission to lie your head against his thigh, to sink back into the new shelter.

You gave a small nod of understanding, looking back down as his attention was demanded from another round of celebration.

Despite the dizzying commotion of Loki’s ceremony, your limbs became heavy and keeping your eyes open was a losing battle. Loki peered down at you as you slowly laid your head against his leg, letting your exhausted body rest for the first time.

A fierce desire to protect you swelled in Loki’s chest, suddenly cross with the noise and lights that combatted your sleep. As he continued to entertain offerings of exotic fruits and tributes from his kingdoms, Loki moved a leg in front of you, glaring at anyone who so much as looked too long in your direction.

He couldn’t imagine how drained you were, to sleep through the chaos. Your weight rested against his leg, though you didn’t let yourself fully drift into deep sleep, some part of you making sure that you were upright, not wanting to displease him.

Loki carefully supported you as he stood, lifting you off the floor with godly strength. The festivities continued without him — kings, gods, and valkyrie reenacting stories of battles and playing with magic in the great halls.

He’d had quite enough of the noise and empty affection, and desired nothing more than some quiet time alone with his offering.

“Careful,” he warned softly as you began to stir, strengthening his grip to keep you from falling.

“M’sorry,” you mumbled, your first words spoken in a haze of exhaustion.

“It’s alright, you’re free to rest,” Loki laid you down on his bed the moment you entered the privacy of his chambers.

Golden floors were etched in sweeping illustrations of history and mythology, telling the stories of your god beneath the bed draped in dark green silks. Huge doors opened to a veranda, a summer breeze ruffling the curtains, allowing glimpses of glittering astronomy overhead.

Your mind yearned to stay awake, to learn your surroundings and stay vigilant in the presence of Loki. Despite that, your body screamed for sleep, sinking into the soft bedding he had placed you on.

Loki watched you sleep.

Exhaustion kept your body rigidly still, not moving once the entire night. You stayed curled up in the very corner of the expansive bed, out of reach of Loki, who eventually took his place as the sun cracked the horizon.

The only indication you were real, was the gentle rise and fall of your back as you breathed. As you slept, the frightened expression vanished from your face, softening the your features. Loki couldn’t take his eyes off of you, studying your almost peaceful face.

Loki drifted in and out of sleep, not bothering to wake you after such a late and overwhelming night. You must have been weary, because you couldn’t have been comfortable, making yourself as small as possible at the very edge of the bed, not wanting to take up too much of Loki’s space.

You slowly opened your eyes, sunlight streaming in through the open veranda. The morning seemed impossibly peaceful, despite waking up into a new life of servitude. This didn’t feel like what you’d expected — waking up in a comfortable bed with the warm sun on your face, the scent of breakfast wafting from a huge spread on the chamber’s dining table.

“Good morning, darling,” Loki’s voice was much softer in the privacy of the chambers, without an audience.

You sat up, looking over as he stood from a couch, setting aside a novel. He was more relaxed, wearing loose black linen, his hair tied up loosely.

“Hi,” you whispered, at a loss for words — partially in awe of how gorgeous he was, and partially cautious, as if he were a cobra waiting to strike at any wrong move.

He watched as you observed your surroundings, inspecting your golden cage in the light of day. Loki’s chambers were beautiful, bright, and serene. It seemed so divorced from the perception you had of the god before being let in to the most private part of his existence. Loki moved smoothly throughout the room, delicate hands attached to a lean, muscular body. Loki’s face was sculpted out of marble, so stunningly beautiful it left you breathless. Green eyes pierced straight into your soul, laid bare when he looked at you.

“Eat something,” he gestured to the feast at the table, as if he were the devil, offering food to a goddess to keep captive in his lair forever.

It was your job to obey, your body moving before your mind even considered protest. The shimmering gown you were wearing the night before swept the floor as you walked, Loki admiring how beautiful you were, even slightly disheveled.

You hesitantly took a berry from the table, bringing it to your lips, licking the sweetness off your fingertips. The sight stirred something inside of Loki, his gaze focusing on the contours of your body that were visible through the just-sheer parts of the fabric draped over you.

“Master?” You could feel the weight of his gaze, invisibly drawing you to him.

Loki stepped toward you, pleased as you sank to your knees without any encouragement, easing into his submission. You wanted it, needed it, like your lungs needed air. A shimmer of green made your clothing disappear, baring you fully to Loki’s intoxicated gaze.

“Look at you, fit for a god,” he praised, slowly circling you as you kneeled, appreciating you from every angle.

“Only for you, master.”

“Loki,” he permitted you to call him by name, a request that pulled the corners of your lips up with small satisfaction.

The floor was cold beneath your knees, and your skin began to prick beneath a cool breeze from the veranda. Loki swelled over the recognition that you were his, and his alone. He was hard in the loose linen pants, eager to claim full ownership of you in such an intimate way. You willingly surrendered to him, practically desperate for him to take you, to consummate your submission to the god.

Your hands smoothed up the solid muscles of Loki’s thighs — limbs you wish to be bent over — before clutching the linen waistband and dragging down his trousers. The sight of him hung heavy made your mouth water and your cunt throb, desire swirling in your belly.

“Go ahead. Touch me as you please, I’m as much yours as you are mine,” Loki murmured, realizing you were waiting for permission, to do as you were told.

Long fingers wove into your hair, cradling the side of your head, pulling only slightly as you licked the tip of his cock, sending a shock up his spine.

He leaned back against the wall, smirking as your left palm flattened over his toned abs to brace yourself, pleased that you were trusting his words.

“Gods,” Loki swore when you took him in your mouth, letting him push you down until he was filling your throat.

Pretty tears welled at your lashes at his size, your throbbing need beginning to smear between your thighs. Your free hand worked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, your tongue dragging up his shaft. He was both long and thick, his skin like velvet on your tongue. It was a feat to take even half of him in your mouth, and you moaned and the thought of him fucking you, and how you’d beg to take it all.

“If worshipping my cock makes you wet enough to drip on my floor, I’ll let you do it every morning,” Loki purred with a grin, clearly taking notice of the effect he had on your body.

“Please,” you whimpered respectfully, dragging your fist up his length, giving your mouth a break.

“I’m close, darling, you’re doing beautifully,” he praised, watching your thighs squeeze together at his words.

“I want to come in that gorgeous mouth, feel myself in your throat.”

You tilted your head back just a bit, both to gaze up into his eyes and to let him in deeper. A low whine vibrated around his cock as his hand wrapped around your throat, gently squeezing.

“Fuck,” Loki hissed, spilling over into your mouth, filling your senses with his salty taste.

“Swallow it,” Loki commanded, and you were all too willing to obey, wanting to please him.

His thumb swiped over your lips, cleaning up the bit of mess he made, kneeling in front of you as you both caught your breath.

“Was that okay?” the question slipped out before you could stop yourself, puzzling Loki.

“Of course, it was perfect. Haven’t you done it before?”

“No, I’ve been kept pure for you,” you answered, earning a profane string of Norse as his dick twitched.

“You’ve made me insatiable,” Loki pressed a quick, messy kiss to your mouth that was interrupted by a knock at the door.

“No!” Loki shouted, standing up, displayed in his full glory to the guard who opened the door.

The furious god stood in front of you, blocking any eyes from catching even a glimpse of your body.

“Get out, now, or I shall have your eyes torn out!” Loki thundered, fiercely possessive over you.

“I’m so sorry, your highness. Odin has called on you—”

A sharp burst of Loki’s magic sent the man flying backward with a yell, the door slamming shut behind him.

“I’m sorry-” you began, as if you needed to apologize for being nude.

“I will never let anyone else touch you, see your body, or covet what is mine.”

A warmth spread through you at the words, taking his hand to stand up. He took a cloth, carefully cleaning you up, before guiding you into a closet that was full of the finest Asgardian fabrics.

“We’ll continue this later, darling, but for now, you’ll accompany me on whatever nonsense I’m being summoned for,” Loki explained, moving to dress himself as he left you to choose what maids had left for your arrival.

You chose green, pleasing the god as you adorned his colors, another sign of your growing devotion. Loki kissed your wrist, before a band of gold appeared in a shimmer, bringing a smile to your face.

He wordlessly led you out of his chambers, a hand at the small of your back. Being with him was intense — but the castle and all of its people was overwhelming. You found yourself leaning into Loki’s side, away from the noise of shouting and chaos of the everyday happenings.

He looked up from the throne to see what was bothering you before pulling you to sit between his legs where you could sink back into him and ignore the noise.

“We’ll leave as soon as I’m finished. Until then, you can entertain yourself by picturing what I’m going to do to your precious little pussy,” Loki whispered against the side of your face, gently nipping your ear.

You shuddered against his chest, feeling him chuckle beneath you as his arm tightened on your waist. Warmth flushed your cheeks and you turned your face into his arm, shy at the filthy words from Loki. He could feel your heart racing inside your ribs, anxious to tear the emerald gown from your body.

You were lost in your thoughts when Loki banished everyone from the expansive throne room, giant doors embedded with gemstones slamming shut, sealing you alone with him.

“Now, where were we?” Loki asked, mouthing hot kisses along your neck and shoulder.

“I believe you were about to fuck me, Loki,” you chirped.

“I love hearing those dirty words on your lips, all for me.”

“Only you,” you promised, closing the gap as he hovered above you.

The kiss was heady, his tongue warm and dominating as he pushed it past your lips. The sensation nearly distracted you from his hands, that were tearing the fabric around your torso, letting it flutter to the floor in shimmering pieces.

“I’m going to fuck you here, on this throne, like a proper king.”

You parted your legs, letting his hand drop between them. Loki smirked into your neck as he cupped your sex, feeling how wet you were, desperate for him as heat radiated from your center.

He didn’t bother to turn you over, perfectly happy to fuck you while you were on top of him, lying on his chest as he sat upon his throne. He glided his cock along your wet lips, only a moment until you were squirming with desperation.

He wanted to hear you beg, but even he couldn’t wait any longer, slowly sinking into you, every inch stretching you impossibly further. The sweet sting made you cry out, your head dropping back on his shoulder when he nestled himself fully inside you.

“You’re perfect for me,” Loki praised through gritted teeth, fighting not to slam into you like an animal. He could feel your walls throbbing around him, muscles burning as they were forced to take the stretch to fit him inside — and you loved it.

You doubted anything would ever feel so good, until his hips started to roll forward, the god fucking you deep and slow, holding your body against his chest. He buried his face in your shoulder, soaking up your squeals of pleasure as he lost himself in you.

Before he even thought to play with you, your cunt began to clench around him with an impending orgasm. Your startled whimper shot straight to Loki’s dick, and he fucked you harder, unable to help himself.

“Come around me, darling, let me know how good you feel,” Loki urged, nearly spilling into you as you trembled in his arms, coming with a scream that echoed off the walls.

“There you go,” he murmured, twitching before he filled you with his seed, painting your insides with him.

Your breaths were ragged and uneven, mind completely foggy in the aftermath. He breathed in your scent as he stayed inside you, preserving the moment for as long as possible.

“I’m yours, forever,” you whispered, as if reading his mind.

#loki smut #loki #loki avengers #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki smut oneshot #loki imagine smut #loki imagine #avengers #marvel #loki fic #loki fanfiction #avengers au #loki fluff

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goldengirliez · 7 months ago

Text

TIPSY MIKEY. We all stan a cute, tipsy Mikey.

09:53 pm

Nighttime is the most amazing part of the day. You can give yourself the attention you deserve, taking care of yourself, watching your favourite show, preparing a nourishing meal... All of this after the frenzy of the day, the heat of the city, the infinite traffic jams, and the overwhelmingness of your daily job.

Once you get your favourite shirt covering you up, you can't help but sigh contently, letting the perfume of the clothing fill your nostrils, the softness of the cotton fabric gently caressing your skin and the white colour of the tissue soothes your tired eyes.

His shirts are always your anchor after a long day when you haven't been able to meet. After a whole week you and your boyfriend, Mikey, haven't been able to meet because of his busy schedule due to an upcoming race and you being buried deep down the pit of work and hectic everyday life.

Just when you're about to get into the covers and call it a day, some motherfucker dares to ring the bell of your apartment, knocking at your door mercilessly. It's almost 10 pm, who could it possibly be?!

Stomping your feet towards the door of your apartment, you rub your eyes in a pissed manner, the lotion you put on your face earlier slightly oiling the tip of your fingers. When you open the door with a frustrated sigh, your eyes go from annoyed to surprised in less than two seconds. You surely didn't expect to find Draken, Mikey's best friend since the old days and a member of his racing team, looking at you apologetically while holding your boyfriend on his back, piggyback style.

You don't question him, despite wanting to do so, and let the beefy man in. He drops Mikey on your couch and he yelps, whining a slurred and slightly annoyed "Ken-chinnnnn".

You and Draken share a look that says it all: he was drunk, dead-drunk, cockeyed.

"A week is left before the big day, everyone wanted to meet up before having to go all in until the race day" Drake sighs and scratches the back of his head.

You have never seen him so shy, he must be quite tipsy too but you decide not to point that out, showing mercy for his virility.

"I'm sorry about this- he kept on blabbering about how much he missed you so I thought this was the best thing to do".

Of course, it is. Mikey's addicted to you. He loves you so much and every time he can't meet you even for a short period, not being able to hold you close and pepper your face in kisses, he loses it and does stupid things like... Getting drunk with his friends.

You can feel a sudden weight on your shoulder, strong arms wrapping around your waist like a snake and a stinging smell of mixed alcohol make its way through your senses.

Mikey's cheek is squished against your shoulder and he looks at you with big, doe onyx orbs and sweet, plump pouty lips.

His obsidian hair is a bit messy, and his cheek is slightly rosy due to his tipsiness.

You could devour him. He looks so adorable.

"Babyyy, is this really you? Fuck– I've missed you so much" winey voice and teary eyes. He always acts like a child whenever he's drunk and that never fails to put your heart in danger because of cuteness overload.

"You did great Draken, I'll take care of him, thank you for bringing him here" you smile at your boyfriend's best mate and motion him to go before Mikey throws off a tantrum on how much he had missed you and how you should have answered to his messages more often.

Just when he gets out you sigh and look at your boyfriend who's snuggling against you (probably because he's not even capable of standing still by himself), caressing your warm skin with the tip of his nose.

“Why haven't you answered any of my calls today, baby?”

It is surprising how his voice rings in your years, shaking your very core: his slurred and childish words from before have been completely replaced by a deep, low and shy whisper. He sounds pained.

You can feel the warmth of his muscles flex on your abdomen as he brings you closer to him until your back is touching his toned chest. His heart is thrumming against his ribcage, you can feel it.

“Can't focus on anything without hearing from you for so long… I get worried too, ya know?”

Your Manjiro has always been this way, whenever he got tipsy, he would always become more clingy, whinier and vulnerable.

Despite this, his charm is undeniable and you can't help but pend from his lips when his words flow effortlessly like the smoothest cream. Listening to him and absorbing his body heat is like indulging in the sweetest thing you might ever taste.

He doesn't do it on purpose, such antics become natural when he's with you: your magnecticity touches every cell of his body and makes it act on its own, getting on the right frequency just because you are there.

You're everything he needs and all he has always had.

You can't blame him for behaving like this, like the lovestruck man he is.

“I’m so sorry, ‘jiro, I've been busy… but I'll make it up to you, okay?”

His body weight leans more towards you as he mutters a slurred ‘you better'. Despite wanting to sound pissed, the smile on his face is clear as day even if his face is hidden in the curve on your neck. His satisfied tone betrays him: maybe wearing one of his shirts was a start to make up for the lost time already.

As your hand smoothes over his liquorice locks you can feel a damp, hot sensation on your neck: his hot breath reaches your skin as he kisses it in both relief and contentment, exciting your nostrils with a pungent hint of alcohol.

Once your hands make contact with his back in a fluid, circular motion, you can feel Mikey's muscles tense and melt in your hold in less than a few seconds: you prepared him a warm bath to help him ease up his paranoia about “you avoiding him” and wash off that nauseous smell of liquor that was making you sick.

The water ripples underneath his body, circular little waves expand and dissolve among the warm water whenever he moves.

Letting the fragrance of the oils and the body wash hug his senses, filling his thoughts with your gentle hand scratching his scalp deliciously with the tip of your fingers and your idyllic voice that echoes through the bathroom walls he feels at peace.

He breathes in deeply every time, his toned chest rises and falls at a slow pace and the droplets of water kiss every inch of the skin for you, sliding down his muscles deliciously.

With his eyes gently closed and his silky, obsidian hair sticking to his forehead slightly, he looks like a greek god, just for you to be blessed with.

You can't help but sigh happily as his consciousness clears up with every passing minute: he starts to make more coherent sentences, talking to you about his week and complaining about his team that put his life in such a hectic frenzy for the upcoming race that he hardly had time to check up on you.

“The only way I thought I could see you was by taking advantage of this dinner: I mean, no one wants to deal with a drunk, complaining pain the ass before the race, yeah? They had to let me come here, I'm a genius!”

You love him for that.

The soft thuds that jog up the stairs are unmistakable: as Mikey reaches your room and opens the door, you are already waiting for him in the bed, keeping the sheets warm for him, and making a comforting nest for his arrival.

He insisted that you wait for him upstairs as he brushed his teeth and dressed up, claiming that he wasn't that tipsy to be looked out for like the big baby he is.

Let's give him credit for that, he was right.

His face seems to be sparking under the warm light of your abatjour, the freshness of his body reaches your nose more and more as he walks closer to the bed, inching towards your face so you can breathe in and taste the minty scent of his mouth onto yours with a sloppy kiss.

When your hand guides its way on his collarbone, tickling his damp skin with your palm, he wastes no time hovering over your frame completely and crushing his weight on top of you, making the soft mattress sink lower underneath your bodies.

Even if Mikey has always had a quite smaller frame compared to other guys, he never fails to knock the breath off your lungs when he catches you by surprise. He might have a thing for that small puff of air that leaves your chest unexpectedly, making you yelp in such a delightful tone… but he would never admit that out loud. Where would the fun be otherwise?

Snuggling against your body, you can feel the tip of his nose playfully rub against your cheek as he kisses your jaw with a small movement of his mouth, the softest flower petals caressing your tender skin graciously.

Useless to say that you'll sleep in that position for the whole night and you have no room to argue, not when your man starts to mindlessly mumble sweet nonsense under his breath and ask questions about your week until late that night.

Mikey's head is still a bit fuzzy, his senses don't connect down on earth fully due to the fragmentary memories of the embarrassing, confused events that happened that night tormenting his subconscious, but he doesn't care: as long as your voice lulls him to sleep, all his repressed pre-race anxieties melt away; every fear of having missed out on a big event of your life that week dissolves into thin air; every inch of the emptiness that your absence brought fills up gradually, leaving him giddy inside.

He doesn't deny it, Manjiro admits that he can be whiney, childish and reckless (idiotic actually): getting drunk and causing a scene at the restaurant, screaming at the waiter because he didn't receive a flag on his entrecôte and spilling the carafe of wine on the white table cloth in front of the team before falling from the chair wasn’t the best idea to get him to your house, especially since he's an emergent public figure in the motorcycle racing industry.

But, honestly, that's all worth it if he gets to spend time with you once again, babying him the way he deserves.

English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes!

This has been in my drafts for way too long, so I decided to finish it– I'm not that proud of the outcome but I hope it brought a smile on your face regardless!

Sending y'all hugs. ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

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