#delicious soup | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

writinggremlin · 29 days ago

Text

Oh shit this one was really good holy shit. Every sentence was dripping with despair istgggg

His last meal was bread and cheese noooo 😭

Aww man... D:

This is the moment Lex truly became a pathetic, sopping wet cat.

The reward for meeting the Maestro's standards is, ultimately, a punishment. One of the worst ones he can give.

To be perfect, is to be punished.

The Rare Bookseller Part 84: Alexander's Ending

Previous > Masterlist

tw: suicidal thoughts, abuse, blood drinking, temporary character death

November 1820

It must be nearing winter, because the manor was becoming chill and musty again, and Lex found himself needing a woolen blanket at night. From the few glimpses he had out of the windows, only brown and dry leaves were left on the trees, but there hadn't been snow yet. These were the ways he tracked the changing of the seasons, because he had only been outside of the manor three times in total since that night the Maestro had revealed his plan to turn him.

It was a dread that sat in his mind every day, and by now it felt more numb than fearful. He'd grown accustomed to it, just as he'd grown accustomed to his master's cruel punishments, something he thought would never happen. It was normal for his young body to ache with scars and bruises, his muscles crying out with fatigue. There were no mirrors here, but when he caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection from a window, he could see that he was thin and pale, with dark marks under his eyes and a deadened expression. He looked more like a dead thing than like the handsome student who had once sang in a choir.

That other Lex, the one who had friends and talents and a promising future, would have been finished with his schooling by now. That was the Alexander who had been buried in the churchyard, that his parents and friends must have mourned.

One of the other thralls, one that was allowed out into the yard, had brought in firewood, and there was a meager fire burning in the hearth of the parlor. Lex had finished his dusting quickly, and he had enough time to spare a few moments by the fire, warming his hands, before taking his evening meal and moving on to his next task.

Truthfully, he probably could have spent even longer. The Maestro was in one of his rare moods where he didn't emerge from his chamber for weeks, only opening his door to admit a thrall to feed from. It meant no training, no punishment, a chance to heal and rest -- but not too much. Lex had once made the mistake of sleeping for an extra hour on one such occasion, believing his master wouldn't emerge from his room, and had caught an extra whipping. He didn't dare risk it again, and neither did any of the other thralls, broken things that shuffled quietly through the halls and never spoke to each other, following their inscribed routines like automatons.

Lex wished he could spend the whole evening warming himself by the fire, dozing, dreaming of nothing, but if he didn't tear himself away, he wouldn't have enough time to eat. With great reluctance, he made his way to the kitchen. No one had heated the stove today, so it was particularly frigid.

Lex was in no mood to heat the stove, either. The food deliveries had been ample lately, so instead he helped himself to a loaf of fresh bread. It was strange that his master had increased both the quality and quantity of the food, because no new thralls had been added to the household in some time, but none of them dared question a small bright spot in a bleak existence.

He slowly carved the bread with a knife. The knife was sharp and long.

He could plunge it into his wrists, or slit his own throat open, and be free.

As always, his hand trembled as he moved the knife to press against his flesh. He knew it was what he must do. He must do it before his master decided to turn him into a truly dead thing, condemning him to an eternity in this state of purgatory. That fate would be much worse than death, he knew.

There wasn't anything here worth living for, anyway. Each night only differed in the amount of punishment he endured. Nothing else ever really changed. He couldn't remember what sunshine felt like, could hardly imagine a warm touch. If he didn't take the only escape afforded to him, and soon…

All he had to do was muster his bravery and press down, opening up the veins that his master opened regularly. His precious, valuable blood would be spilled across the kitchen, pooling underneath him as he slept at last, for as long as he wanted. That is where his master would find him, the thrall who disappointed him one last time. One of the other thralls would bury him in the yard, a shallow grave in hard ground, and no one would mourn.

And he would be free.

But as always, he couldn't. Fear stayed his hand. Fear, and perhaps a longing for better that had dimmed but not gone out.

He returned to carving the bread, knowing that he'd come to regret his cowardice.

The bread and cheese were dry in his mouth, but he did try to enjoy it a little. Soon it would be winter, and the whole manor would be frigid, and he wouldn't be able to eat without his hands going numb. Soon his master would emerge from his torpor and resume the endless cycle of practice and punishment. Lex would continue to perfect his musical skills for an audience that would never be pleased.

The clock struck midnight.

One of the other thralls, an older man who resembled a skeleton, entered the kitchen. "Your presence is required in our master's chamber."

He wished to feed, then.

Lex followed behind the other thrall silently, steeling himself for the unique pain of his master's feeding. It was one thing that he couldn't quite get used to, his body instinctively rejecting the fangs that drained out his life. Still, it was over quickly, and he usually fell asleep against his will afterwards, forcing his master to leave him be for some time.

When he entered the chamber, his master was sitting on the bench at the foot of his bed, his eyes boring into Lex. There was something different about him, though -- Lex had become an expert at picking up his master's subtle moods, out of sheer necessity. There was something almost sad in those eyes. He beckoned Lex forward.

"Alexander," he said, "tonight is the last night I will feed from you. Tonight is your final night as a human."

And all at once, the cold fear returned to Lex. All at once, he felt so dizzy he thought he might pass out, so nauseous that he might evacuate his food. His time was up. He would die, and a monster would arise in his place, a monster still bound to his master, birthed into misery. Would the monster even remember being human? Or would he believe that this was all there was, no world beyond the cold, dark manor?

"No, sir," he said, surprising himself with his first act of actual defiance in years. "I don't want to be one of your kind. Please, simply kill me instead."

The Maestro's eyes hardened, but he didn't slap Lex -- not that it would have mattered if he did. No punishment his master could administer would be as awful as the promise he'd made that day in front of Lex's grave.

"I will do as I please with you, as you are my property," he said. "And you will be my property forevermore, until the day I return to dust."

"Please, sir, please," he said. It'd been so, so long since he had actually begged. "I've tried so hard to be perfect. I've attended to all of my lessons, I've done all of my assigned work, I've fed you my blood -- is none of that worth anything?" Hot tears were streaming down his face now. "Have I not ever pleased you, sir?"

It must have been Lex's desperate imagination, but for one brief moment he saw something in his eyes, something other than anger and hardheartedness. "You have," he said finally, "or else I wouldn't consider this."

"Then please, sir, if you have even a shred of mercy for me, please allow me to live at least a little longer."

Lex was a fool to have any hope. He'd spent so much time surgically extracting it from every corner of his thoughts, and he knew that mercy was a foreign concept to his master. And yet, the way his master actually seemed to consider the request --

"If such mercy was not shown to me," he said, "then why should it be shown to you?"

"If you understand my position, sir, then why would you do this?" Lex said.

"I have no intention to explain it to you."

"But it's my life, sir, I deserve --" Lex's mouth was clamped shut.

"You deserve nothing," said the Maestro, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and pulling him in close. "After all these years, have you forgotten your gratefulness?"

Lex wanted to protest that he'd never be grateful for this, even if he were punished for it, but he was no longer able to speak.

"If you think that your insolence will steer me from my chosen course, you are gravely mistaken," he said, as though reading Lex's mind. "You will be still, you will be obedient, and you will die when I choose."

Lex's body was made to maneuver into position, sitting rigidly with head slightly tilted to expose his neck, a vessel from which to drink. Lex himself was trapped inside, in bindings strong as iron chains, unable even to struggle against the end. He thought back to the knife, wishing he would have had the courage to protect what remained of him.

And now, he'd be condemned to hell for his cowardice.

His master's fangs slid into his flesh, the familiar pain made so much sharper by the knowledge of what was to come. All the stoicism and numbness he'd carefully cultivated over the years he'd been trapped here, all of his defenses against the mundane horrors, all of them were crumbling now that the end was near.

Lex's imagination filled with all of the things that were lost to him, the things he had shut away and not allowed himself to think about. He thought of his room at the university, reading a book by the warm fireplace. He thought of crisp autumn days and warm summer evenings. He thought of his parents' house, of his mother's embrace. He'd been safe and happy then, and he hadn't appreciated it properly, regrets burning in his heart.

And his master drank, and drank, and drank, and drank.

Just as Lex was sure it would never end, the fangs left his neck, leaving behind a throbbing pain. Frozen in place, Lex could only watch as his master pulled his silver knife from his coat and used it to slit his own wrist, opening his vein, an action that might have killed him if he were human. A drop of deep red blood welled up, and it was pressed to Lex's unwilling lips.

It tasted putrescent, and Lex wanted more than anything to push it away, to prevent the infection from entering his own body. But it was no use - his lips and tongue and even his throat were manipulated to force him to swallow. Lex could feel his body trying to retch and being stopped unnaturally. Although it could only have been a few drops, Lex felt as though his throat were coated in it.

His master returned to drinking. He didn't make any additional wounds, instead simply drawing more of Lex's blood through the punctures he'd just made, and it wasn't long before Lex grew weak and woozy. A profound sense of drowsiness flowed over him as his body began to give up. If the sleep were merely death, Lex might have welcomed it. But he was about to enter a nightmare, and so he fought with the last of his strength to stay awake.

He was so cold.

Lex struggled to keep his weary eyes open even as his mind fogged and his strength flagged. The room seemed to be fading from sight, almost as if he were floating far away. He couldn't feel the pain, he couldn't feel the fear.

Perhaps tiring of Lex's fruitless struggles, his master paused for a moment to whisper in his ear, "Sleep, Alexander."

It was the last thing he knew.

Previous > Masterlist

Next week, Alexander turns.

Thanks for reading and for all your comments! The last chapter was difficult for me so it was good to get so many nice words about it.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@vampiresprite @irregular-book @whumpsoda @und3ad-mutt

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump @tippytappytyping @natthebatt @fire-bugg14

@fuckcapitalismasshole @slightlydisturbedbeans @paperprinxe @demetercabingreen-thumb @the-broken-pen

@pokemaniacgemini @jumpywhumpywriter @basica11ywhumped @anoontjecanush

@whump-me-harder @whump-till-ya-jump @the-monarch-whumperfly @ium1naryy @wumpbean

@cepheusgalaxy @andithewhumper

#bloody soup #good soup #delicious soup #immaculate soup #lex is being a pathetic wet fuck again

73 notes · View notes

littlemissmanga · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober Day 8 – Breeding

Summary: Life slows down once everyone is safely back on Pabu, and maybe now it’s time to start focusing on what you both want for the future.

Pairing: Hunter x f!reader

Rating: NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI!!

Warnings: breeding kink, very very brief and vague medical procedure (birth control removal), established relationship, pregnancy kink, dirty talk, pre-established safe word (always play safe, folks), oral (f!receiving), unprotected PiV, scent kink, light marking, bandana as bondage, light hair pulling, creampie, porn with feelings, love and fluff, soft aftercare.

A/N: Who the heck else did you think I’d use for this prompt? This man is so daddy-coded that it’s unreal.

Divider love to @djarrex

“I can put a replacement in immediately if you’d like?” The doctor asked, turning in his chair, ready to remove the expired birth control implant buried in your upper arm.

“Urm…” You paused, not entirely sure what you wanted to do. Honestly, you’d forgotten about the small plastic rod under your skin until Hunter had offhandedly commented that you smelt a little sweeter this cycle.

He sat beside you now, warm brown eyes sliding in your direction as the doctor waited for your answer. With nothing to do this afternoon, he’d offered to come with you to the appointment you’d made at Pabu’s only clinic. After four years at his side, having been assigned as the squad’s civilian handler at the start of the war, nothing was sacred anymore. Even more so after you’d fallen into bed together two years ago.

Two years of waking up next to each other, of stolen kisses and wandering hands, of knowing looks and being railed against the nearest surface. Two years of ‘I love you’ and ‘stay safe out there.’

During the war, the two of you had discussed a family late at night, tucked away in a bunk together, voices whisper soft and full of hope.

Now, life had slowed. After rescuing Crosshair, Omega, and Tech from Mount Tantiss, you’d slipped off the Empire’s radar and had settled down properly on the tropical island. You had a home and a routine, were on a first-name basis with the locals, and even snagged a teaching job at the school.

Eyes shifting to meet Hunter’s, you chew on the inside of your lip. Was now a good time? Would your baby be safe, or would the Empire come sniffing if they caught wind of a child of an enhanced clone?

“It’s your choice, cyar’ika.” He states, his mouth’s corners turning into a devastatingly handsome smile. “It’s your body.” He adds. You know his stance on having a family, Maker above you play into often when he’s buried deep inside you late at night, but this feels like a pivotal moment in your relationship.

Holding his gaze, you’re not quite sure what you’re searching for – but you can see so much in his eyes. All the trust and love he has for you, all the support. At first, it had been terrifying to have someone believe in you so much, but your self-worth and confidence flourished over the last four years.

He’d be an incredible father. You’d already seen it from his interactions with Omega, how the young girl pulled all those paternal traits out of him. He’d go to the ends of the galaxy to keep you and your baby safe, of that you were sure.

Contentment seeped through your body, a feeling of rightness settling in your gut. You wanted a family too, and you loved each other - had been to hell and back for each other. You shifted your attention to the waiting doctor. “Don’t bother replacing it.” You tell him, hearing Hunter inhale sharply, the armrest of his chair creaking as his grip tightened on it at your words.

The doctor gave you a knowing look as he swabbed a disinfectant pad over your upper arm. “Normally, I encourage my patients to use other contraception, but something tells me that advice would fall on deaf ears.”

You make a slight noise of agreement, glancing over at Hunter as the doctor quickly removes the small implant. Your eyes take in the way he’s watching the little piece of plastic being removed, his fingers flexing against the arms of the chair, his Adam’s apple bobbing as the implant is pulled free of your body. And then those dark eyes find yours and steal your breath.

It was the right decision.

He’s on you the moment you get home, not even giving you time to properly shut the front door. Rough hands grasp your body, lips finding yours for a passionate kiss – there’s no finesse to it; it’s needy and messy, noses bumping and tongues meeting.

Buttons are undone; his shirt hits the floor, and his shoes and pants follow. Strong hands cup your ass and lift you, lips still pressed desperately against yours as he carries you a few steps further into the house, laying you on the couch and following you down. Your kiss breaks long enough for him to pry your dress up and off, lips meeting again before the garment even has the chance to hit the floor. He’s back on you, using one hand to prop himself up above you.

“Fuck, cyar’ika.” Hunter’s voice is low and smoky as his mouth moves to your jawline, light kisses peppered across it before he works down your throat, nipping gently at your delicate skin. Your chest heaves with each breath, mind spinning as your hand’s card through his hair, nails dragging across his scalp, eliciting a small hiss of pleasure and pain from him.

A needy whine breaks free, your hips lifting as you desperately seek some friction. Hunter matches your actions, grinding his hard-on against your thigh as he reaches the juncture where your neck and shoulder meet. He bites down a little harder this time, your moan filling the air, pulling a growl from him as his tongue laves over the mark. The light sweetness to your scent is still there, but he knows it’ll only get stronger as the artificial hormones make their way out of your system. He can’t wait to bask in it.

Your bra is slung over the edge of the couch, hands cupping your breasts as Hunter’s mouth continues downwards, leaving a trail of kisses. Shivers skitter down your spine as he licks across the soft mounds, dragging the flat of his tongue across your rapidly hardening nipples. Drawing one into his mouth, he sucks, scraping his teeth gently across it. The pleasure makes you gasp, back arching as you chase the warmth of his mouth.

Forefinger and thumb tweak your other nipple, the double onslaught making you whimper. Hunter smiles against your breast, enjoying how easy it is to pull such delicious sounds from you. Downwards, he continues, scooting back a little on the couch to press more kisses across the softness of your stomach, yet he pauses for a second just below your belly button.

The actual reality of it slams into him. That damn implant is no longer in your arm, and while it might take a few cycles for your hormone levels to settle back into their natural state, his child could soon be growing here, nurtured by your beautiful body. He moans at the thought, hands moving to kneed gently at your belly.

Gazing down your body, you watch as the man you love laves attention to your stomach. You might’ve pulled away, self-consciousness flaring a little in the past, but you know why he’s doing it. You know the thoughts that are swirling through his mind. You reach down with one hand, fingers tangling in his hair, pushing his bandana off. You snag it with your free hand, sliding it down your wrist, knowing how much he loves seeing you wearing it.

It has the desired effect. Hunter catches the motion, groaning as the band of red fabric rests around your wrist, possessiveness flaring low in his gut and his hips flex, hard cock grinding against your leg again. Deft fingers pry your panties down, and he buries his face between your thighs moments later, turning his head to scatter kisses on your inner thighs. His stubble’s roughness contrasts with his tongue’s softness, and your hips buck in anticipation, desire building further inside you.

He presses forward, burying his face against your pussy as he inhales deeply, growling as your scent floods his nostrils. Tongue dragging through your soaked folds, his nose presses against your clit, and you grind against it, knowing how much he loves you riding his face. Fingers fan over your thighs to keep your legs open as he devours you, his tongue circling your entrance a few times before plunging in, pulling back a moment later to flick it over your clit, making you shudder. He repeats the action several times, driving you crazy with need.

Mouth finally staying on your clit, he presses two fingers into you, crooking them, rubbing your g-spot. The angle is perfect, and between his talented hands and hungry mouth, you’re done for. “Hunter!” You cry out his name, your release slamming into you. Your hips and thighs shake, your chest rising and falling rapidly as the pleasure sweeps you up, searing through your veins.

Smug satisfaction paints Hunter’s handsome face as he slows, lapping up your release before he takes his mouth off you, though he continues to lazily pump his fingers in and out of you, feeling the way you spasm around them as you come down from the high. “You have no idea how fucking badly I want to cum inside you.” He rasps, the smokiness of his voice amplified.

Catching your breath, you’re mesmerised by the intensity of his gaze. Biting down on your lower lip, a thrill runs through you. “I think you should show me.” You challenge.

His growl is feral, your pussy clenching at the sound. Fingers slide out of you as he reaches for your wrists, grasping them as he hauls your arms up, pinning them against the couch above your head. Quickly, he ties his bandana around them, a smirk tilting his lips.

Softness creeps across his features momentarily as he looks down at you beneath him, and you know what he’s asking. “Havoc.” You re-confirm your safe word. You were entirely comfortable with this and had been the hundreds of times you’d done it before, but he always double-checked.

Shifting back to sit on his knees between your thighs, Hunter’s hands smooth across your body. You hadn’t been made for war or the frontlines, even though you’d insisted all those years ago on being out there with him and his brothers. You were softer, unable to take as many hits, making him want to protect you all the more.

You relax against the couch, content to let him lead, trusting him implicitly. He catches you off guard as he dips his head down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth, tongue swirling around the pebbled bud. Back arching, you huff a breath, squirming as his hands grasp your hips. His lips trail upwards, across your neck, leaving a mark on the other side to the one he’d made earlier. The sweet moan you let out is music to his sensitive ears.

“The way you sound pinned under me…fuck. Your moans are so pretty, cyar’ika. Can hear your heart racing too.” Hunter’s eyes close momentarily, losing one sense, further heightening the rest of them. He breathes in your scent once more, using one hand to pry your thighs further apart, dragging the velvety head of his cock through your slick folds. “So needy for me. This what you want?” He can’t help but tease, enjoying your whimpers and eager nod.

He makes you wait for a second, that mischievous glint in his eyes part of why you fell in love with him in the first place, and then you feel him press against your entrance, inch by glorious inch pushing into you. Your moan catches in your throat, pussy stretching to accommodate him until his hips are flush against you, heavy balls resting against your ass.

Hunter grunts as he bottoms out, eyes fluttering shut once again. “Such a good girl.” He murmurs, giving you a second to adjust before he pulls back and slams back in, making you both cry out. His eyes snap open, locked on your beautiful face as he sets a punishing pace. Your breasts bounce with every thrust, your arms trapped above your head, completely at his mercy.

Fingers grasp your thighs, keeping you in place as he pounds into you. The couch creaks beneath you, but you pay it no mind, too focused on the pleasure building inside of you once again.

“Gonna fuck you every damn day until it sticks. Gonna make you a mommy.” Hunter snarls, watching your lips part, your head tipping backwards as you moan unabashedly. You clench around him, and he knows his words excite you.

He won’t last much longer, having been worked up since you’d told the doctor to remove the implant. He’d never been more grateful for loose-fitting pants in his life – walking out of the clinic with a boner was not something he wanted the island residents gossiping about.

Pulling out of you, he chuckles as you whine. “Patience, mesh’la.” He chides gently, strong hands grasping your hips as he flips you onto your front. He unties the bandana, letting it fall to the floor, and you grab at the arm of the couch as he hauls your ass up, fingernails clawing uselessly at the fabric.

On his knees behind you, Hunter pushes back in, setting a quick pace again. His balls slap against your clit with every thrust, making your back arch, ass pressing against him. “Feel you so deep.” You gasp, hearing a deep rumble of pleasure from behind you moments before a hand grasps your hair, tugging your head backwards.

A sharp sound leaves you, eyes screwed shut at the combination of pleasure and pain that erupts in your body. The warmth in your body builds, the edge drawing oh so deliciously closer. Hunter keeps a hold of you as his thrusts pick up, eyes glancing down to watch his cock slide in and out of you a few times before his free hand snakes around you to rub your clit. “I can feel you squeezing me tight. You gonna cum on my cock, baby?” His pace is relentless, hand letting go of your hair a moment later as he eases you down, your cheek pressed against the couch, back arching beautifully. The change in angle is pure perfection.

“Hunter!” You cry out his name for the second time this afternoon as the pleasure crescendos, your body clenching around him, muscles spasming as you climax.

With your body clamped around his cock, Hunter gives two final thrusts before he stills and presses himself against you, shoving in as deep as he can with a grunt as he cums. His thighs shake as the pleasure washes over him, cock twitching as he fills you.

The sound of both of your ragged breaths fills the room, and the pair of you spend a moment catching your breath. Gentle hands smooth across your back after a moment. “Keep that ass up, cyar’ika. Don’t waste any, even though there’s plenty more where that came from.” Hunter murmurs, folding himself over you as he drags his lips across your shoulder blade, tongue laving at your skin and the thin sheen of sweat on your body.

You let out a little noise of agreement, tilting your hips a fraction to ensure none of his release can escape. It draws a deep chuckle from him, and you bask in the sound.

“I love you.” He whispers, warm breath brushing against your ear as you feel him ease out of you, his softening cock resting against your ass.

“I love you too.” You reply quietly, head tilting to capture his lips in a sweet kiss as his hands slide around your body, resting against your stomach.

As the kiss breaks, he presses his forehead to your back, warm hands rubbing gentle circles against your belly. “Stay like this a little longer, baby.” He insists, the quiet sounds of your synced-up breathing the only noise in the room.

You know it won’t take, but you stay still anyway, soaking in the moment and the feel of his body pressed against you, safe and happy in your little slice of paradise.

#oh my word #delicious soup #tbb hunter x reader #hunter x reader #spicy fic

672 notes · View notes