#exposed to the mercy of another

[obey-my-twisted-logic]

Soothing what Remains : after avoiding the Pomefiore Dormleader like the plague since you learned of him, you can avoid him no longer. Vil Schoenheit, the most beautiful man you'd met or seen in the entirety of your life, had you alone in a room in Ramshackle Dorm. Platonic!Vil Schoenheit x GN!Reader

Synopsis : He had you take him personally to his guest room during his stay while he leads the training camp for the SDC. As their manager, he needs a word with you. The Fairest of them All is very aware that you've been avoiding him.

Warnings : eating disorder mentioned briefly. There is self harm mentioned and discovery. A lot of hidden scars are revealed. Gentle platonic touching. Difficult confession and a softer side unknown to the reader. Mild cursing and self degradation. Comfort but not coddling. General spoilers of the game up to the beginning to the middle of Book 5 in the game Twisted Wonderland, but the focus is not on the game. Everyone involved is over 21 years of age. Anything in italics is from Vil's point of view.

Author's Note : Vil has a special place in my heart. While beauty and self confidence are extraordinarily important, he's not incessantly cruel or heartless. At least not in my head canons, and based on what I've read and understood from the game. Very personal piece to myself, as someone who has struggled desperately with self harm. Edit - this really got away and personal for me, I hope you enjoy it

---

You escort Vil to his room. His confiscation of the treats from his troupe of dancers fresh in your mind. There was sympathy but despite it all, he hadn't been overly cruel about it and wasn't exactly wrong about why he did so. Still it was a shame you couldn't share the treats Trey had sent. Thankfully he wasn't forcing this new "lifestyle" on you or Grim. Your struggle with food was dark enough, and dealing with Grim would have been infinitely worse.

"So this will be your room specifically-" your explanation cut off by the harsh shutting of the room's door. "What was that about?" You asked, trying to hide you annoyance, despite it being evident in your look.

He did bow his head apologetically. "I closed the door a touch harder than intended, however I do require a bit of a ... chat with you." He said as he took a seat on the bed, poised and legs crossed elegantly. "Tell me little potato, why do you avoid me so much?" His gaze caught your own, seeming to just see straight through you.

"If I was avoiding you I wouldn't allow you to stay in my home." You replied, however it was evident that you were avoiding his gaze.

"I may be pretty Sweet Potato, but that doesn't make me dumb." He cut your excuses off with a click of his tongue, smoothing his forehead as the annoyance crossed his delicate features once again.

"Of course I didn't notice in the beginning. You a trouble making first year, and magicless to boot, and I the Housewarden of Pomefoire. We were not two people who would join face to face often, or really at all." He paused, eyes tracing over your form, an unexplainable look on his face, like he was lost in your form and how you became a part of his life.

"With each 'incident' " Vil resumed, referring to the Overblots. "You became more interesting. Even began to hear professors sincerely sing your praises. Despite your lack of magic, you excelled elsewhere."

"I can't be lazy or lax, headmaster made it quite clear he'll be happy to kick me out." You interrupt. How long had he had an interest in you? Why did it not just fade away? You'd done your best to not stand out otherwise. How did he realize your were actually avoiding him?

"Rook." Vil replied, answering the question you dare not speak out loud. "His interest was different from my own, but he has a habit of... hunting those who catch his eye. And he would cheerfully admit defeat as you used your comrades as a smoke screen to avoid his intrigue." Vil laughed lightly. "Very brave to try and out maneuver Rook. That little trick was your downfall. That's when I knew, yes, the Prefect of Ramshackle Dorm was indeed avoiding me, without a doubt."

"My only question is why?" The Fairest of them All firmly kept your gaze as he questioned your reasoning.

~~~

You look so very uncomfortable with his gaze. Vil couldn't fathom why, he had never done a thing to hurt you, never approached you. You weren't on bad terms with anyone in his dorm. Why did you tremble like a leaf when he his eyes rested on you?

"Your very being terrifies me. You're beautiful, confident, and you take matters into your own hands." You begin, actually trembling. "You've never hurt me, you've never bullied me, but I've been burnt before and you were too beautiful to trust."

Vil absorbs this in and lets you talk. He's not mad, still confused, but you did have real fear, that much he could tell. His eyes widened when you took off your jacket, revealing a dark secret that most wouldn't notice. "Wait-" he began, reaching a hand out and retracting it when you flinched.

Before him you were exposing something deeply personal and dark. To most, it wouldn't stand out much. To a man with a morning, noon and night skin routine, he could see all the faded scars.

"I'm broken and tired, and that was long before I got here." You began, soft voice still trembling slightly, hands running up and down your arms gently, as if reminding yourself of each self inflicted mark, the history of each one and the ragged reminders that marred your pale skin.

"I knew you'd be able to tell right away. Someone as strict as you with appearances? There's no way you wouldn't be able to tell that these were self inflicted." You laughed bitterly. "And this is just what is visible to the polite eye. The thought of anyone but myself knowing terrified me." Fat tears slowly began to slip and your lip trembled as you continued. "The judgment from someone as put together and confident as you would send me back to that dark space, and I'm all ready desperately trying to survive as is." You smiled sadly.

"So yes, thankfully for me, I noticed Rook's strange interest," you laughed quietly. "Call it experience of being hunted back home. Only this time I had friends. I could blend in with my Heartlabyul boys and Grimm. Azul was easy to use as an excuse, working for the lounge, so I always had 3 or more pairs of eyes, especially when I told the Tweels how uncomfortable Rook made me." You paused with a soft smile. "Floyd especially did not take that well, offering to 'squeeze' him. Of course I declined, Rook wasn't cruel or mean, I was just scared."

"Then there was of course Leona. As lazy as he appears, he takes my comfort very seriously, making sure to be around me whenever I needed 'alone time', using it as an excuse to nap either with or near me. So when Rook did show up, he'd be distracted by the sleepy lion, and Ruggie would help me slip away." You were proud to have found such comforting and genuine friends.

"And despite it all, you're here. I couldn't refuse you or Rook. Everyone is so excited about the SDC, how could I ruin that for them when they've done so much for me?" You used both hands and rubbed always the tears trying to regain control of your own emotions.

"Please Vil, please just leave me alone and I'll do my very best for your comfort and for the SDC. Even beyond the SDC, I'll run myself ragged for you. Please I'm begging you, please just leave me alone." You begged, starting to pull the jacket back on.

"Fuck." Was all that escaped Vil's pursed lips as he pulled you into an embrace, gently rubbing circles on your back with his left palm. "No. I refuse. I won't let you keep carrying your burden alone. I won't STOP bothering you until you see how strong and beautiful you are." He felt your flinch, but what he felt more were your tears as you pressed your face against his chest gently sobbing.

"You won't be alone with your thoughts anymore. I cannot share or bare your burden, but I can ease the affect it has on you. I can be here, I can pamper you, I can listen," he listed off everything he could think of, wanting to assure your comfort. "Sweet Potato, you're more beautiful then you know." He gently ran his hand over a still exposed scar, near invisible with time, but he knew skin better than most. "Each one is a sad story, with a beautiful ending. You survived Sweet Potato. Each is a badge of survival, and you deserved to survive." He assure you as he brushed away tears that he could.

"But you'll never need to hurt yourself again. I will make sure of it." He finished, closing his eyes and resting his cheek on the top of your head, gently humming a gentle soft sound as you both stood there embracing, letting this new feeling and friendship sink in.

[a-b-riddle]

Part 9 (unrevised version). Since I've gotten 6 messages and a good bit of asks requesting to view it. Here it is, not in its final form.

You had hoped Monday would have treated you better than the past two days, but walking up to your shop in the pouring rain to already see a body standing outside waiting wasn't a good sign.

Customers who waited outside your shop always made you feel uncomfortable. But when you finally got close enough, you took in the person before you.

"We don't open for another hour." Your voice flat as you fished for your keys.

"I'll wait." Was Kyle's reply.

"Then you'll have to do it outside." You said, the key sliding into the lock. He didn't argue as you shut the door behind you. Didn't even bother knocking when, after thirty minutes, you looked in the window to see that the wind was causing the rain to blow sideways.

You relented. Letting him in thirty minutes earlier. It was a small mercy, even if he was soaked to the bone. You almost felt bad when his chattering teeth were the only thing you could hear.

Almost.

"I take it John told you about our little talk yesterday." You said, going about your business. Engaging in the conversation as if you were talking about the shitty weather that had tried to drown him.

"He did." He gave a sniffle. Running a hand over his beautiful, wet face. Droplets still staking their claim on his skin. "H-he alssso t-t-told us we were on our own in begging for our own f-forgiveness. Ra-ra- rightly s-s-s-so."

You huffed. Guilt beginning to eat at you before you turned, disappearing to the back of the store and coming back with a shirt and a blanket. "You left the shirt here."

He had no shame and wasted no time in taking off his jacket and soaked shirt. His chiseled body exposed to you. It was almost instinct to reach out and touch the soft skin. You luckily possessed some form of self restraint.

"So are you here to promise to make amends as well?" You crossed your arms. You meant it as a sign that you were wanting to create distance, but honestly you didn't trust yourself. It was second nature. Kyle and Johnny were tied when it came to having to always touch you.

Probably why his ghosting sucked so bad.

"I'd like to take you out." You couldn't help the laugh that escaped you. It wasn't until Kyle's face fell that you realized, "Oh, you're actually serious."

He opened his mouth, ready to no doubt give you the same exact promises of doing better that John had given you the day before. Fortunately for Kyle, you didn't have the time to entertain a conversation.

"Fine." You immediately relented. No argument. "That Indian place where I asked you to go four months ago. Seven. If you manage to figure out which place, then I'll be meeting you there. Otherwise you'll be eating alone."

Kyle stood still. Unprepared for the fact that you had... agreed. You actually agreed to let him take you out.

"I can pick you up."

"Not sure what time I'll be getting off today. Might go home first. Might just go straight there." You started opening tasks again. "I have to finish setting up. Seven sharp.

"Seven sharp." He repeated, his smile lighting up the room.

It made you feel sick.

It was 6:45 when your phone started ringing. It was Kyle. Confirming that he was at the restaurant you were supposed to go.

7:00. He had gotten the two of you a table. He'll go ahead and order you a drink. They had mango lassi, but wasn't sure if you wanted to stick to just water.

7:15 He tries calling you. When it goes to voicemail, a follow up text is sent asking if you're okay.

At 7:20, while sitting on the couch you text back. Sorry. Something came up. We'll reschedule, I promise.

If you knew giving them a taste of their own medicine felt so good, you would have done it ages ago. You felt no since of shame in sending it. You hated being petty, but you wanted them to know what it felt like.

John had a lot more of verbal outbursts coming his way and if Johnny was hoping for a chance, he would be lucky if you had sex with him again before marriage.

Ten minutes later, on the dot, there was a knocking on your door. Your food had arrived. Blindly, you opened the door. Only instead of the take out you had delivered, Kyle stood there. Yet again soaked to the bone and this time out of breath.

"How did you know I was here?" Was the first thing that had come into your mind. If anything, he would have went by the shop first, but no. He came here. You weren't the type to deviate from a schedule, but christ. Simon at your date and then the club. John at the shop on your day off. Now this. "I swear to fucking god this fucking stalking-"

"Easy now, Love. No one's stalking you." Bullshit.

Absolute bullshit. They were military. Really important and special connections type of military, but this was bullshit. They were keeping tabs on you somehow.

"I know for a fucking fact that place is only ten minutes away. So you didn't have time to check out my store-- where I should be-- before coming here. So I'm going to ask you again, how did you know I was here?"

"Okay," he shrugged. "Stalking. We're stalking you." Kyle was lying. We he nodded like a bobblehead, you knew whatever was coming out of his mouth was bullshit. The first time you confirmed it was after Johnny had volunteered to make haggis. Kyle told him it was good, no doubt hoping to spare his feelings.

"Kyle." You warned, eyes narrowed and teeth clenched. He paused as if trying to form another lie, but coming up short. Sighing in defeat, he confessed.

"Blocking us didn't stop you from sharing your location." In that moment, you could have strangled him. They had been still using your location. Something you had given them as a way to find you if you ever needed help. Now those assholes were using it for their own benefit.

"Son of a-" you shut your mouth. "I can't do this with you right now, okay?" You didn't confess that your publisher had asked for a last minute zoom call in the middle of your busiest work hour to see how you felt about doing a few meet and greets, all expenses paid.

Good news, but still... overwhelming. You still felt like an imposter. That you didn't deserve the hype you were getting. Your story wasn't that good. Your characters didn't hold much depth.

"Everything okay?" You didn't want to tell him. Didn't want to give him the chance to offer the reassurance you desperately needed for something he had no idea about.

"Why?" You asked, changing the subject. "I just want to know why? With John I get that the job gets stressful and needing someone to take-"

"No," he finished. "That's not an excuse. It's a reason. Not an excuse." His jaw clenched. "There is no excuse for how any of us treated you."

"Then what was your reason?" you asked. "I'm finding it very hard that someone who quite actively avoided me suddenly wants to get back together."

"I slacked off?" He shrugged. "I figured there were four of us and if I wasn't able to be there, it wouldn't make a difference."

"If you're just going to lie, Kyle, there is no point in continuing this conversation." You go to close the door only for his hand to stop you.

He stands there, looking at the ground. Even from the this angle you can see him take his bottom lip between his teeth.

He's nervous.

You step back. Giving him the option of coming in and saying it is whatever it is he needs to stay. He may be an ass like the rest of them, but this isn't exactly a conversation you want to have in the hallway for your nosey neighbors to hear.

He takes the silent invitation. Walking in and not speaking until you click the door shut. "You want the truth?" His voice is soft, but there is something else behind it. Anger?

"No," you say sardonically. "Please. Lie to me." He sighed, but didn't say anything. You were exhausted. The past few days had been a back-to-back rollercoaster of emotions. You were drained. You didn't have it in you for this right now. "Kyle-"

"I thought you only kept asking because you felt bad for me." He said the words so quickly, it took you a moment to process them. He thought.... you felt bad for him? "Like you were still trying to include me even if you didn't want to."

"Why?" Was the only thing you could come up with. You didn't have the energy to try to come up with your own reasoning for his admission.

"Don't think I don't know how I am compared to the them." He scoffed. You always knew the hierarchy of their work, even if you didn't know all the details. John was at the top. Captain and head bitch in charge. Simon was the lieutenant with Johnny and Kyle as Sergeants. Kyle was the youngest of the group by two years, but still. What was there to compare?

"So you're not a Captain or Lieutenant?" you shrug. "Johnny is the same rank as you. And you are the youngest and I'm sure with time you'll get to a position-"

"Black!" He said. "I'm black. I am the only fucking black guy not only in this relationship. I'm the only black guy in the 141, in the unit."

When it came to Kyle, black was the last thing you thought of. You thought of his soft brown eyes or house his hands felt so smooth against your body. How his smile could light up the room and how beautiful, how head-turning gorgeous he was. "I'm just an after thought in everything else regarding the 141, why would you be any different?"

"Ky," you were going to be sick. Was this how he really felt? With you? With the others? With work? "You know I don't feel that way, right?"

"Do you remember that time we went out? That french place?" How could you forget. The maître d' had asked Kyle to put a card on a tab before the two of you were even seated. At first you thought it was preposterous. Why would you make patrons at a fine dining restaurant do that? This wasn't a pub for Christ sakes. Kyle told you not to worry about it and handed over a card.

The two of you never went back.

"Oh my god." It dawned on you. "When they asked for your card..."

"I..." he sucked in a breath. Trying to keep his composure. "It was fucking humiliating. I was a man dressed to the fucking nines with a gorgeous girl on my arm and before I even got the chance to blow my money, I was treated like I couldn't afford it. It wasn't because of what I was wearing or who I was with. It was because of me. Of who I was. Who I am."

"Kyle," words escaped you. Nothing in that moment to reassure him that it never dawned on you. That it stupidly never dawned on you how there were times that people did look at him different. You wanted to tell him that it didn't matter. That you were just as important and lovable and respectable as the others. That you loved him just as much. Words failed you. All you could say say was, "I'm so sorry."

He swallowed, before taking in harsh breath through his nose. "It's not an excuse. I got wrapped up in my own stupid fucking head about how other people looked at me, I forgot it only mattered how you did."

"And you did." You said, aching to reach out. To touch him. Offer some comfort. Hating that he ever felt like he wasn't enough. Knowing the feeling all too well. Even if he was the one to make you feel it. "You did matter to me."

"I know." He said. You were thankful he said it clearly. Not shrugging his shoulders or nodding his head as he spoke. "I'll do anything to matter to you again." He took your hands in his, even though they had ached to hold you closer. But he knew not to test his luck. "If you want to press restart and let's take it back to the very beginning, I'll do that. I will court you and woo you and make you fall in love with me all over again because I will never fall out with you. I can't."

You weren't prepared for this. You had prepared to leave Kyle waiting in a restaurant alone. Now your heart ached in your chest at the idea of letting him ever think he wasn't enough because of the color of his skin.

"It doesn't have to be now or tomorrow or next week or next fucking month." He squeezed your hands the same way had John had. With the exact same intensity and promise. "Just let me try again. I won't let you down this time. I'll put in the work."

"I don't want you to feel like you have to work to make this relationship work, Kyle." You protest, wanting to pull your hands away. Free from the spell his touch had seem to be putting you under.

He smiled. Not enough to show off his teeth, but enough where have of his face lifted up. "It's not the type of work with long hours and a shit commute. Loving you is the same kind of work an artist puts into making a masterpiece. Pouring everything into it and getting something beautiful in return."

Before you could comprehend it, your face was wet. "Kyle." Your lips quivered, a sob threatening to come out. "I never felt like I needed to spend time with you, Ky." You sniffled. "I fucking wanted to. I missed you." You were so close. You needed to reel it in. Get it together.

"I just didn't understand how you could." His confession broke any restraint you had. Your hand flew to your mouth, trying to subdue your cries. When Kyle pulled you to his chest, his arms wrapping around you, you allowed yourself to crumble.

Not even for yourself, but for him.

For the kind heart you now knew broke with every sideways glance from passer-byes. For the hateful and prejudice world you lived in and for how they could overlook such a wonderful man just because of something as basic as the color of his skin.

You weren't sure how long you stood crying. You weren't certain if the knock on the door behind him actually happened or something your mind had conjured to try and pull you from your fit.

Eventually you did pull away from him. Your face covered in snot and tears. Seeing that you still were in need of it, Kyle pulled you back to him, only this time your face wasn't buried into his shirt.

You stood there. His arms wrapped around your back while yours found their home around his waist.

"I used to love when you would come back to my place directly from base as soon as you got back from a deployment." You said, breaking the silence. "I would be waiting like a kid on Christmas waiting to see what trinket made you think of me. You made me feel like even though we were so far away, you still thought about me."

"Always." He said, before his lips pressed against the top of your head. "Not a day I didn't miss being here with you."

The two of you eventually settled down on the couch. Both on opposite ends with a hot cup of tea in your hands and the array of take out containers half empty. You had planned for a night of eating your feelings so there was luckily enough food for two.

"I don't want to say no." You admitted. "But I need time. Before I even think about saying yes to all of this again."

"Not all of this," he reminded. "Just me. I'm doing my part in groveling, let the others figure it out. Or at least that's just what Price told us. Although you would be doing all of us a favor if you talked to Johnny?" Your ears perked up. You hadn't seen or heard from Johnny since Friday.

"What's wrong with Johnny?" You asked.

"Lad didn't cope well with you going on your date." Not that you had fucked him and said it was a mistake.... or maybe he kept that tidbit to himsle.f

"It wasn't a-" you started.

"I know," he said. "Simon happened to be nearby." You shot him a look, letting him know you weren't buying that lie, before he continued. "But he didn't. Fuck you're lucky we were able to drag him out of your apartment before you got back and he made an even bigger fool of himself."

"What are you talking about?" You asked. "What do you mean by drag?"

"Johnny called Simon. Told him you were on a date and to bring your ass back. Although you had made it a point to fuck him and leave-- absolutely no judgement, by the way-- he was going to make it a point to never leave your bed."

"My top sheet..." You had come home to your comforters and pillows on the floor. When making up your bed, the top sheet was missing. You had just assumed you didn't put it on or maybe it was in the wash.

"Refused to put his clothes back on. Me and John couldn't risk carrying a naked, screaming Scot through the streets without making a spectical. So we rolled him up and carried him of like a rug. A very heavy, squirmy rug."

"Oh," your hand flew to your chest. "Johnny." He was the bleeding heart of the group so you weren't exactly surprised. He was also the one who blew up shit, so he was definitely one for dramatics. "So that's how Simon figured out about dinner. But the drinks-"

"Whenever Simon is home, he's your shadow. The only time we don't worry about you is when we know he's with you." That made you roll your eyes.

"You act like he's my guard dog."

"He is."

"Is not." You defended, your conversation from Saturday night coming back to you.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be."

"He's not." you said again.

"You're right." Kyle relented, shrugging his fucking shoulders.

"You're saying that like you're just not trying to argue with me." He took a sip of your tea. "Kyle!" He sighed before looking at you as if the last thing he wanted to do was continue on the subject.

"He is." He said. "Your guard dog."

"I mean he protects me, but all of you do." He shakes his head, a huff of air going out of his nose, almost amused.

"Not like Simon." He admits it almost as if he were ashamed. "I want to say something." He said it as if he were preparing you for the next words to come out of his mouth would change the course of the night. "I need to say it because it would make me less of a man and even less of a friend if I didn't. But I don't want you to hate me or yourself for it."

Why would you hate yourself for it?

"Fine." you agreed, giving him permission to continue. "I won't hold it against you."

"You were always the one to coordinate things to do. One-on-one dates. Helping John with paperwork when shit got to crazy and you were the only one the uptight asshole would let touch his files." You gave a small smile remembering how John had barked at a recruit to get the fuck out of his office before peppering you with kisses at your arrival. Giving small pecks of appreciation as he explained what he needed you to do and how to do it.

"Helping me after my shoulder injury and staying on my ass about the physical therapy."

"Well someone had to." You countered.

"This past Christmas when Johnny needed to get his sisters gifts so you made a whole day out of it going to see lights and ice skating." Johnny was the proud owner of a freshly bruised tailbone after landing flat on his ass and swearing off skating for the rest of his life. Feckin' ice.

"Okay?" You asked, not really sure where Kyle was headed for this. He had pointed out what a good girlfriend you were, had been. How you had always tried to be helpful and do whatever needed to help your boys out.

He stopped. He looked at you as if he were debating to tell you what he had warned you about. He looked down at the floor before taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.

"Fuck." He muttered.

"Spit it out, Kyle!" You whined, now clueless to what point he was trying to make by all the examples of what a good girlfriend you had been.

He looked at you with the same solemness that a friend looked at another friend before having to call them out on their shit, knowing that the pill they were about to be given would be a hard one to swallow.

"You never did that with Simon."

[miserableworm]

Aphrodisiac!

★ sypnosis - giving him an aphrodisiac wasn't your best idea...

★ tags - childe x fem!reader, alhaitham x fem!reader, wriothesley x fem!reader, smut (mdni), aphrodisiac, established relationship, oral receiving, mentions of overstimulation, handcuffs, rough sex

CHILDE

Despite being under the influence of an aphrodisiac that would normally drive him to pleasure himself, something about you made him want nothing more than to please you instead.

"God you drive me insane..."

Your legs were spread wide open before him, invitingly wet and ready for his touch. He could feel your heat radiating off your body as he gazed at your dripping pussy; it was almost too much for him to bear!

But instead of diving right in like any normal man might do under these circumstances, When held back... teasingly soaking up every drop of moisture with his tongue while watching you squirm beneath him helplessly.

"Stop teasing me.." you whined

His hot breath fanned across your sensitive skin - enough to make it tingle but not quite enough stimulation yet... His hands gripped tightly onto your thighs as if locking them down so that no one else could come between them during this intimate moment shared only by the two of you...

And then finally – after what felt like an eternity – those delicious lips parted once more and plunged deep into the heart-shaped depths below…

"You taste so fucking good.."

It didn't take long before you had your first orgasm. "Aw my pretty baby is already cumming?"

"Oh but we're not done yet... you can take it, right?" He purred huskily against wet flesh before diving back in again without waiting for an answer.

He's completely pussy drunk.

ALHAITHAM

As Alhaitham's normally stoic demeanor began to slip away under the influence of an aphrodisiac, he found himself unable to resist your advances. Your every touch sent shivers down his spine and ignited a fire within him that he couldn't control.

You were like a siren calling to him, drawing him closer with each passing moment. He could feel the heat emanating from your body as you pressed yourself against him – it was intoxicating!

"Need you so bad..."

Despite his initial hesitation, Alhaitham gave in to his desires and took you roughly against the wall behind you... His hands gripped tightly onto your hips while he thrust deep inside of you over and over again... His breathing became labored as sweat dripped down both of your bodies.

"w-wait.. slow down.. I can't.. ah!"

"One more," he panted between kisses along your neckline before plunging deeper still into the depths below... "I know you can take more.." With each word spoken by this usually reserved man came another thrust from his hips - faster now than ever before.

You and Alhaitham were fully aware that 'one more' is just a lie...

WRIOTHESLEY

Wriothesley was a man of few words, but when he spoke, it was with an air of command that left no room for argument. As the aphrodisiac took hold and his normally stoic demeanor began to slip away, so too did any semblance of restraint.

He grabbed you roughly by the wrists and pulled you closer - handcuffs clinking softly as they secured your hands behind your back. His lips crashed down onto yours in a fierce kiss that left no doubt as to who was in charge here tonight...

His hands roamed freely over every inch of exposed skin while his hips ground against yours – teasingly close yet never quite connecting fully until finally... With one powerful thrust forward, Wriothesley buried himself deep inside of you

"you feel me in you?" he pressed down onto the bulge on your stomach. "t-too much ngh.."

"isn't this what you wanted? no turning back now. You're mine tonight," Wriothesley growled into your ear as he roughly pulled you closer by the wrists. "And I'm going to make sure you remember it."

His rough hands gripped tightly onto your hips as he pounded into you without mercy or hesitation...

[livebeforeyoulearn]

Safe in Her Arms

Warnings: Smut, 18+, Use of safe word, Fluff

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: Alexia goes a little too far and cares for you after.

Request

-

Alexia's lips latch onto your neck, branding the tender skin again and again, each press hot and possessive. Her mouth moves with unrestrained hunger, grazing, sucking, her tongue gliding over the bruised spots. She feels like a vampire lost to desire, marking you as hers, and each time her teeth scrape or her lips suckle, you gasp beneath her, arching into her body. 

“Another?” Her words come close to a tease, yet they’re a question too, just as much as a request. You hum in reply, words failing you, reduced to the basic sound that’s enough to make her smirk. 

She shifts, lifting herself up to her knees, her eyes locking onto you in that potent way that leaves you feeling bare, vulnerable, but willing. Your legs are spread wide open for her, aching and receptive, and you’re not sure how many times she’s had you like this tonight – maybe the fifth, or the sixth? Your body is worn and sensitive, surrendering to her insatiable rhythm with a desperation that mirrors her own. But how could you deny her?

“Remember your word, bebé?” she whispers, and you manage a nod. She studies you, intent. “Tell me, I need to know you remember.”

“Red,” you manage, a whisper from hoarse lips. 

She hums in approval, her lips curving into yet another smirk, seemingly thrilled by your surrender. "Good," she murmurs, her gaze intense, devouring you whole. Her hands grip your thighs, keeping you open, exposed, as her eyes drink in the sight of you, desire deepening in her gaze. “Still want me so bad, huh? Have I not given you enough already?” she teases, her voice dripping with a possessive pride that leaves you trembling.

Your response is a helpless whimper, and she leans back, her hand finding the strap, sliding along its length to coat it with the traces of earlier pleasure before guiding it towards you. You can feel her gaze on you, taking in every subtle movement, every little sound you make as she drags the tip of it through your folds.

“Alexia, please,” you beg, voice breaking on the edge of a whine, every inch of you hyperaware of each movement. Her grin only widens, slow and dangerous, as she relishes in making you beg, enjoying every second that she has you at her mercy.

When she finally presses forwards, the tip stretching you in a way that’s both familiar and fresh, your mouth falls open, a strangled moan escaping as she fills you once more. You’re tight, your body trembling, and the pressure makes your eyes roll back, lost in the feeling she draws from you. Her eyes are locked between your legs, completely lost in how you take her; entranced. Her breaths are shallow as she watches your body open up to her touch, every inch of her consuming you.

Her movements start slow as she leans down, her fingers threading through yours, pinning your hands beside your head, trapping you under her as her hips find a steady rhythm. You glance up at her, catching sight of her torso, her abs flexing with each thrust. The sight alone is enough to make you melt, your body responding with even more need. Her eyes trail up your body, taking in every inch before she lowers her mouth to your chest, her lips catching one of your sensitive nipples. Each suck and bite, each motion is precise and demanding, pushing you further until your mind is hazy.

“Ale,” you moan, voice cracking as she moves faster, her rhythm intense, her own need apparent in the way she holds herself. “Fuck,” each thrust sends you reeling, caught between pain and pleasure, unsure where one sensation ends and the other begins, and yet you crave it all, maybe even crave for it to stop, though you can't quite tell anymore. Everything blurs together, and all you can do is feel.

You tighten your grip around her hands, nails pressing into her skin, and she responds with a groan, dragging her teeth along your chest, a teasing nip that makes you cry out. She watches, caught in her own pleasure, your hips lifting despite the overwhelming ache. Her body presses you down, her control firm as she whispers praises, “Ho estas fent molt be, mi princesa.” 

She slips one hand free from your grasp, sliding it down to steady your hips as her thumb begins tracing slow, agonising circles over your sensitive clit. Your free hand drifts down to her abdomen, fingertips pressing firmly along the defined lines of her abs. Your nails rake against her skin, leaving faint, heated crescents in their wake, a breath escaping her lips as she feels each trace you leave behind.

“Mira’t,” she husks. “Taking me so well.”

Her thumb presses harder against you, and as her lips capture yours in a messy, needy kiss, your mind spins. You can feel that familiar heat building, intensifying as she pushes you to the edge one final time until everything snaps, sending you headlong into bliss. Your vision fades, your senses numbing, body going limp. As the waves of ecstasy wash over you, her lips trail down your jawline to your neck, kissing and sucking with fervent desire. Each soft bite sends goosebumps across your skin, pulling you deeper as she explores the sensitive curve of your throat. 

But just as fast as the pleasure washes over you, it shifts – the sharp edge turning from sweet to searing, the sensation that once held you captive now pressing painfully against every nerve.

“Alexia, red, red, red,” you gasp out, voice faint but urgent. She stops instantly, her entire body stilling above you, her breath a sharp intake as she processes the word. She freezes, her lips still pressed to your neck, her hips halted, her breathing heavy as she lets you both catch up, her chest rising and falling in time with yours.

Then, softly, she whispers, “Amor?” Her voice is gentle, a hint of unease beneath the concern. “I’m going to pull out, okay?”

You manage a faint nod, the lingering pleasure melting away as she withdraws carefully, her hand gentle on your stomach, stroking softly as she helps you come down. The bed shifts, the quiet rustling of fabric filling the silence as she slips out of the harness, discarding it with little thought as she watches you with concern.

Exhausted, you roll onto your stomach, burying your face in the pillow. The scent of her skin lingers there, familiar and comforting, and you let yourself breathe, willing your body to relax as the ache fades.

In moments, she’s beside you again, settling on the bed and pulling you close. Her hand finds your face, her thumb wiping away a tear that’s slipped free. She’s quiet, waiting until you’re ready to meet her gaze, and when you do, her expression softens, a tender worry in her eyes.

“Are you okay, mi amor?” Her voice is soft, almost pained. “Did I go too far?”

“No, it’s okay,” you reply, your voice so faint, almost uncertain, feeling the exhaustion seep into every word. “I just need a moment.”

She nods, her face relaxing with a soft sigh, “No rush, mi amor,” she says, her arms encircling you as she guides you on top of her body. Her fingers trail softly across your back, drawing gentle, soothing patterns that steady you, and her lips press delicate kisses to your forehead. 

You stay on top of her for a while, savouring the warmth of her body beneath you, her skin like silk under your fingertips. Your cheeks feel flushed, a faint embarrassment creeping in. It’s not the kind that feels shameful, but it’s enough to make you aware of just how exposed you feel. Admitting you needed to stop, even to her, feels vulnerable, like peeling back an extra layer of yourself and laying it bare for her to see. But you know she’d never judge you; she understands more than anyone. Yet, lying here, pressed against her, it’s impossible to ignore the gentle ache in your chest.

Her chest rises in a deep, slow breath beneath you, and the motion stirs you from the peaceful fog you’d nearly drifted into. Your eyes flutter open, taking in the dim light of the room. Her fingers, once tracing soft, soothing circles along your back, now lie still, her hand resting gently against you. Her lips are pressed firmly to your forehead, her breath soft against your skin. You feel her inhale, breathing you in as if memorising the moment, and it fills you with a strange, quiet peace. Your fingers draw a soft circle against her chest before you find your voice.

“Can we go shower?” The words come out rough, your voice betraying how tired and raw you feel. 

“Of course,” she murmurs, her lips brushing your forehead in a gentle, lingering kiss before she carefully shifts, guiding both of you upright. You slide off her lap as she sits, her hands steady on you, her gaze tender. When she looks at you, her eyes seem to cradle you, holding you in that soft gaze that always undoes you. She leans forwards, her lips finding yours in a kiss that’s gentle and sweet, as if speaking the words she doesn’t need to say. When she pulls away and rises to her feet, she reaches a hand towards you.

She pauses when you don’t immediately move, a faint smile playing at her lips. With a gentle shake of her head, she steps closer. “Come on, I will carry you,” she says softly, amusement and love mingling in her tone.

A shy smile tugs at your lips as you scoot to the edge of the bed, letting her arms slip around you. She lifts you with such ease that you cling to her, feeling the need to be close. You nestle against her, and she seems to sense your desire to be held, pulling you even closer, her lips brushing soft kisses against your neck and shoulder as she carries you to the bathroom.

She sets you down on the cool countertop, and you watch as she moves to turn on the shower, the steam slowly beginning to fill the room. When she returns to you, her palms rest on your thighs, her fingers drawing soft trails along your skin. Her gaze is thoughtful, her eyes tracing over your face with an intensity that makes you wonder what she’s searching for. But her touch, her closeness, is reassuring, reminding you of the trust that exists between you, even in this moment of unfamiliar vulnerability.

Neither of you has ever had to use the safe word before, and you both feel the weight of it, unspoken but there. You know it isn’t her fault – she hadn’t meant to push you past what you were comfortable with. And she did exactly what she should have, stopping the moment you uttered the word, letting the trust between you remain intact. You take a steady breath, grateful for her presence, for how deeply you trust her, and for her respect towards you and your boundaries.

She blinks a few times, her gaze softening as she seems to pull herself back into the present. Her fingers tighten around your thighs for a moment before she nods towards the shower. You give her a look that says enough, and she laughs softly, stepping forwards to help you down.

She slips into the shower first, letting the water run over her as she tilts her head back, closing her eyes in peaceful surrender to the warmth. “Amor, quick, it is lonely without you,” she calls, her voice carrying through the gentle rush of water.

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts, and slowly step into the shower. Your limbs feel heavy, the emotional exhaustion mingling with the physical, but she immediately pulls you close, her lips pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. She reaches for the shampoo, her hands finding their way into your hair, fingers working with such tenderness it nearly takes your breath away. Each touch feels purposeful, soft and attentive, as she washes away the remnants of the night, the lingering weight of the moment. She treats you with a gentleness that makes you feel fragile but safe, a softness that assures you she’ll handle every part of you with care.

When the soap is rinsed away, and you’re both just standing there under the cooling water, she wraps her arms around you from behind, her head resting on your shoulder. You let your hands fall over her forearms, anchoring her close, the moment both grounding and comforting.

“I’m sorry for making you stop,” you murmur, your voice barely audible over the soft patter of water. “I know you were enjoying it.”

She frowns, her face immediately softening as she turns you around, pulling you closer. Your arms instinctively wrap around her shoulders as hers tighten around your waist.

“No, you did exactly what you should’ve done. Thank you for trusting me,” she says, her voice tender, her eyes filled with sincerity that warms you from the inside.

You look down, feeling a flicker of embarrassment you can’t quite name. “Thank you for stopping,” you whisper, a touch of shyness creeping into your tone.

She lifts your chin gently, her thumb brushing against your skin as she meets your gaze. “You don’t need to feel embarrassed, I promise. I am happy you told me to stop. Otherwise, I would’ve hurt you more, sí?”

You nod, your heart easing under her soft reassurance. She gives you a tender smile before leaning in to press her lips to yours, the kiss unhurried and filled with a quiet love.

You stay like that, bodies tangled in soft kisses and gentle caresses, each touch a wordless promise. They never evolve into anything more, remaining innocent and comforting. In that restraint, you feel a respect and care from her that makes your heart ache in the best way. She’s understanding, patient, and everything you need in this moment. It’s one of the many reasons you love her.

As the water finally begins to cool, she shivers and quickly reaches to turn it off, both of you chuckling softly. She’s quick to wrap you in a towel, drying you off with the same care, and once she’s dressed, she helps you into something comfortable before guiding you back to bed.

Under the soft covers, she pulls you close, her arms wrapping around you with gentle insistence. Her fingers trace light patterns along your back, and she whispers soft, comforting words, each one slowly lulling you to peace. She brings a steady sense of tranquility as she lays against you, and as your eyes grow heavy, you feel nothing but safe, loved, and secure in her embrace. She follows you into sleep not long after, holding you close through the night.

[evilgwrl]

Simon Riley is enamoured by you. All of you. Whether you’re dressed up, your face full of makeup, skin stained with the sickening smell of scented alcohol, burying your natural musk behind hundreds of dollars. Whether you’re fresh out of the shower, the hint of your body wash lingering across your damp body, your hair tied in a messy turban, small droplets falling down exposed skin, the rest being absorbed by your cotton towel.

But he loves you especially when you’re underneath him, completely at his mercy. It shows him that you trust him with every fibre of your being, that you’ll allow him to take you, all of you, without him even asking. He loves the way you look up at him, eyes glossy with unshed tears as you latch onto the muscles of his back, nails digging deep crescents into the ivory of his skin.

He loves the way you practically whimper his name, your lip jutting out with every deep thrust, gummy walls squeezing his member, eyebrows scrunched up as soft wrinkles enfold themselves in your forehead.

Simon loves the way you squeeze your thighs against his ears, almost killing him when he isn’t able to hear those pretty sounds you moan out fully. He loves how responsive you are when his tongue dives into your weeping hole, clit throbbing with anticipation as you near an orgasm.

But Simon thinks he loves you most when you’re lying naked next to him, whispering praise in his ear and professing your love to him, sweaty bodies laced into one as you lap in each others touch, completely fulfilled by one another.

[lilacxquartz]

part 17 of 19 of kinktober: trapped

pyramid head x gn!reader

plot: while exploring the town, you find yourself incapacitated in the worst possible position — themes: warning for non con, dark smut, gender neutral reader, size difference, monster fucking, horror, gender neutral smut — w.c: 700ish

kinktober masterlist • main masterlist • ao3

You were incapacitated.

Trapped in between the barely pried open iron bars, providing just big enough of a gap for your upper body to squeeze through and then… stall. In a way, it was humiliating, but in another sense, it was also terrifying because existing within the town as a whole was a death sentence in its own right. From one little miscalculation—you had potentially doomed yourself.

You tried to dislodge yourself again but the bars were too narrowly placed and you couldn’t push or pull yourself neither back nor forth and in doing so, you only found yourself more stuck than before. Panic quickly swept through your being in violent waves, abandoning all sense of rationality in favour of a hurried escape but nothing was working—but then finally, you heard it—the all too familiar scrape of metal, the thud of staggering footsteps—oh no, no, no… he was here.

You turned your head slightly back to just about catch a glimpse of him filling out the doorway, blocking all gaps of light that otherwise cut into the cell. In an attempt to avoid your flesh likely meeting the blade, you strove to push yourself forward, to at least nullify his efforts to strike you down… but then something else followed suit.

You froze as you felt his calloused hands brush around the soft contours of your exposed flesh; his fingers breaching the torn fabric and tearing away the cloth from the skin, readily exposing you to him. You remained statued in place as you feared for the worst, unable to quite comprehend what he was actually doing to you; almost delicately feeling you up—pushing—spreading your legs apart, ripping away at anything that acted as a barrier between you and him.

You tensed as you quickly understood what was following suit; feeling the tip of something very obvious poke against your most vulnerable parts. You writhed around and squirmed under his grip like a fish out of water, only to remain caught and hooked in his presence, feeling him drive into you in a near hungry pursuit. You gritted your teeth as you felt him force himself inside of you, feeling overwhelmed by his monstrous length that completely filled you out to the brim.

With shuddering, quaking cries, you softly wept as he continued to take in his brutal girth, feeling his cock slide in and out of your insides and stretch you out beyond a recoverable limit. With an unforgiving pace, Pyramid Head continued to hilt himself into your core, feverishly bucking into your body as a radiating, almost scalding pain akin to searing agony settled within the confines of your form. Of course however, he showed you no mercy, pounding into you with a near primal fervour; his hips slamming against your behind with each sawing motion.

Somehow, he grew needier as he continued to violate you—his fingernails digging bleeding crescents into the soft peaks of your ass, kneading against the cushioned skin and spreading you open as far as you could physically handle. It was as if he was trying to force you to accommodate the entire capacity of his impossible length, taking advantage of the limiting position, knowing that you couldn’t just pull yourself away.

Nearing his impending climax; his movements soon became more erratic and maybe even sloppy. He leaned his towering form closer wherever he could press against your bare back—causing the iron bars to crack open further—growling out heated breaths that rolled hot down your spine. Each passing thrust caused for you to shake, prompting you to involuntarily roll your eyes to the back of your head and perhaps even see stars from just how overwhelming it all truly was.

Just as you were about to pass out however, the monster finally came undone with one final violent rut of his stuttering hips. You gasped as you felt a stream of hot oozing warmth fill your senses to such an extent that your stomach nearly bulged from his pent up release.

Thinking it was all over, you tried to close your eyes to recover—but then you were promptly taken out of the cell, readily carried around like a rag doll, to be used and paraded around per each of his passing whims.

In a way you were thankful that he wasn’t going to end you outright.

But then you realised what your life was about to become and that much had otherwise terrified you.

Not quite a mercy after all and worse yet, rather a sentence in the hell you found yourself in.

[nyursi]

𝐂𝐀𝐓 𝐁𝐔𝐑𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐑!ㅤpart two.

꒰ † ੭‎ㅤNSFW 18+ㅤ(MDNI)...  in a series of successful heists, the infamous cat burglar is finally caught and is left with the mercy of his victims to decide his fate.ㅤノㅤnot proofread.

ᡴꪫ‎ TODAY'S SPECIAL!ㅤdiluc, zhongli, heizou, (part one) alhaitham, dottore, and wriothesley (here, part two)!

WOULD YOU LIKE SPRINKLES? (っω=`)ㅤm!rdr, sensory deprivation, nipple play, sounding, multiple orgasms, cumming untouched, vibrators, office sex, power imbalance, size difference, degradation, and more.

                 ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

THE VALUE OF PAPERWORK...

featuring sensory deprivation, cumming untouched, nipple play, and alhaitham.

your skin was flushed, red on every surface from head to toe. the tight binding around your limbs restricted and chased away any thoughts of trying to escape.

the normal response to this situation would be fear... but why do you feel a tingling sensation down your back?

hard nipples exposed to cold air; and thighs forced open wide for the akademiya's scribe to take in. "what a sight you make, thief."

indeed— in alhaithams eyes you looked quite the feast. the situation was in his hands too, having caught the famous cat burglar attempting to sneak in. luckily he apprehended you quick enough.

just... not in the way you expected.

sure, the usual tying up to prevent movement you saw ahead of you, but the lack of clothing? and the blindfold over your eyes? a shocked noise (alhaitham considered it a whimper) had filled the silence of the room once you felt his rugged palms fondling your exposed, plush thighs.

oddly enough, the sensation was nice. it was the first time you've ever been caressed in such a gentle way that it made you want to melt. (purr, the scribe hoped.)

"mngh..." you bit your lip to muffle any more embarassing sounds to leave your mouth, feeling your limp cock twitch with arousal. everything about you alhaitham found cute; cute ears that twitched at every noise, tail that swayed hypnotizingly, adorable eyes filled with mischief.

it was too bad you were a lowly thief.

if you were trying to steal from him some spare pieces of food, or even money, the scribe would have let you go. but his documents?

he would spare you no mercy.

and thus began the long hours of you being suspended in the air, constantly teased. touches varied from feather light to sudden roughness. but no matter what he did, it all stirred life to the needy pleads of your body.

"don't whine, i'm being nice to you." alhaitham said after a babble of begs reached his ears when yet another orgasm was taken away from you. he kissed your nipple, tenderly, then bit on it and tugged. wanting to hear another wanton moan. "ngh!~" your head threw itself back whilst your legs kicked (as much as they could against restriction.)

hips stuttering once alhaithams free hand ventured downwards close to your twitching hole, too close for your liking. he chuckled feeling the heat between your thighs, but continued past the desperate heat to fondle at your tiny balls.

pre begun to leak down your sensitive shaft, dripping and leaving a small pathetic puddle on the floor. and alhaitham decided to finish it then and there.

"gah!?-" a painful pleasure struck you when he pulled on your hardened nubs, leaving you drooling and squirming. your mind couldn't figure out if you were squirming away or towards the sensation. "nngh! hai- haitham!~"

hips stuttered with every tug on your chest, and alhaitham wished he could see your crossed eyes underneath the blindfold. but the scribe was curious, and wanted to see if you could cum faster.

he began to tug on your tail harshly, while still paying attention to your cute nipples. "nn.. nooo! 'm sensitive!" you wailed, unprepared for the rushing pleasure that travelled all the way down to your cock.

soon enough, the bead of pre on your tip became a string of white, coating both of your chests in a sticky mess.

you'll have to tell the fatui to remind you that alhaitham is very serious about his documents...

                 ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

THE SCIENTIST'S NEW LAB RAT...

featuring vibrators, multiple orgasms, sounding, and dottore (not prime).

how many times already? you've lost count. and the loud buzzing didn't do any help to make you remember anyway.

your plan was simple; get to snezhnaya, sneak past the lowly guards, and somehow snag the doctor's latest creation— a faux gnosis. your client believed it to hold the same celestial power like a true one.

suspicion nagged at the back of your mind when you noticed the lax patrol around dottore's laboratory, and you should've known that he had some sort of contraption so insane that he didn't need any guards.

nonetheless, you shrugged such a situation off.

"a-ahnn!~ hah- wait, no! i can't-" a loud moan ripped from your throat, and a pathetic spurt of semen landed on the floor again.

your wrists and ankles hurt— being held by cold metal for hours wasn't all that pleasant.

a guttural chuckle echoed around the room, laughing at your state. "do you like it? i decided to modify my new security measures when i heard of a certain cat burglar and his plans to take away my precious gnosis." dottore finally entered your vision, circling you like a predator.

the scene of you being captured replayed constantly in his mind. it was too good!

as soon as your feet stepped through the metal door, they triggered a sensor that allowed two cuffs to come out of nowhere and secure your ankles. they were weighted— and the heaviness on your feet caused you to collapse. which allowed the handcuffs to attach itself on your wrists.

so now you were wriggling on the floor, being tortured and teased by various vibrating instruments. you had cum in your pants for the nth time by now, and the vibrators in your ass assaulted your sensitive prostate nonstop.

"can't- don't wanna cum anymooore!~" you whined, body twitching from the extreme pleasure that caused tears in your eyes. all the while dottore thought you could belong to an art exhibit!

footsteps approached. "well, if you say so." dottore had a mischevious grin, as he held out a long beaded rod for you to see. "ngh!?-" suddenly a cold sensation entered your urethra; succesfully blocking any future orgasms.

to make it worse, the doctor had turned all vibrators to max. he could only chuckle when all your sounds echoed off the walls. be it babbles, whines, or squeals, dottore took it all in. "aww," he pet your ears gently— contrast to the harsh movements within you.

in the same rhythm of his hand, dottore moved the sounding rod up and down, with every thrust downwards he pushed it in more, until the biggest bead nestled itself on your tip. and as soon as it did, your toes clenched.

fuck. it touched your prostate.

"gukh!~" your jaw went slack, and an extreme feeling rushed to your red, throbbing, cock.

he could only cackle when not an ounce of cum escaped, maniacal laughter fading when you passed out.

dottore has such exciting plans for his new pretty kitty!

                 ㅤ ⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝꒷۰꒷⏝

METHODS OF DISCIPLINE...

featuring office sex, power imbalance, size difference, and wriothesley.

"i'm innocent! i swear!" you plead as wriothesley dragged you through the halls, the sight of never ending cells made you shiver.

the buff male didn't pay you any mind. continuing to tug at the long metal chain around your neck, leading you to what seems to be his office.

your were wide eyed and fearful, that much wriothesley could tell. hearing that cute little gulp behind him made his cock twitch.

he didn't expect such a famous burglar to be so... cute. everything about you seemed meek now that you were in chains. and the cold steel around your skin wasn't a bad look on you, either.

wriothesley chuckled to himself, shaking his head as you both approached his office. honestly? the sound of his deep laugh was quite nice, despite the initial fear rattling your bones.

"don't lie, boy. i know what you did." he huffed, throwing you onto his desk, and the loud slam of his door made you flinch. in an attempt to be free from future punishment, you scrambled to defend yourself.

"i'm not! i didn't do anythi-" you garbled when the taste of leather invaded your tongue, did he really just shove his fingers in your mouth!? wriothesley already predicted your next move and pinned both wrists above your head.

"ah-ah, lying will make this worse."

a diappointed tsk made you flinch, especially as you felt a pressure on your clothed bulge. you gave him a weak kick to his thigh— and wriothesley couldn't help his rising laughter.

"what's a kitty like you gonna do to me? don't you see how small you are?" with every word he said, wriothesley inched his face closer and closer to yours. until you felt his hot breath fanning your face.

just right when you were gonna talk back, he begun to rub his knee in circles, the feeling was so good that you threw your head back against the desk. "hng!~"

and wriothesley saw an opportunity.

in a quick movement, he leaned down and bit. not so hard to draw blood— but it'll definitely leave a mark. "huh?- wrio!~" your legs instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist, making him put down his knee and grind his hard on against your leaking sex.

bite! "who allowed you to call me that?" he bit just on your collarbone, quickening his thrusts. the slacks around him began to feel small with his growing size— and you just got wetter by the second.

you whined, back arching from the desk. "if you're gonna punish me, get in with it!" kicking your legs in frustration due to wriothesley's endless teasing.

"tsk, how demanding. as you wish." he wasted no time and literally tore your pants apart, ripping a hole that perfectly displayed your whole underside. a cute butt to match a cute dick.

a needy moan left your spit-ridden lips, begging for him to do something. anything.

but wriothesley had already decided your fate; a perfect punishment. denying any orgasm to ever escape you.

vanillaclaws 2024.ㅤdo not repost.

[serpentandlily]

Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader

Lost in a Labyrinth Part III - Azriel x Reader

Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine. 

Warnings: angst angst angst 

➻❥ Part I ➻❥ Part II

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Part III

and when he shall die, Take him and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heaven so fine That all the world will be in love with night And pay no worship to the garish sun. - William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The First Attempt

Poison was probably the easiest and cleanest way to kill somebody. It involved very little effort on your part, just a slip of the hand to pour the poison into their drink when they weren't looking. It usually didn't involve blood or puke unless you got one of the nastier poisons, which you never did anyways. Some of the girls were more sadistic though and well, you couldn't blame them for it. 

But while it was the simplest method of killing someone, it was probably one of the harder ones to pull off. First, faeries had very good senses, especially when it came to smell. One sniff of their drink could expose the poison in it, unless you were able to get your hands on one of the odorless ones. Those were more expensive though and Lydia and Keir certainly weren't willing to fund you guys besides your nightly rate from your clients. 

However, when you had made a trip to the apothecary in the underbelly of Hewn City, you had begrudgingly forked over the money for one of those clear, odorless poisons. There was no way anything else would get past Azriel and his shadows. 

Your heart ached in your chest as you stared at the decanter of whiskey sitting on the bar cart in your pleasure room. Azriel had been kind to you. He had offered you some mercy by buying out your nights and not returning until that fateful meeting at the party. And while he clearly liked being more dominant while bedding you, his touch had been gentle, soft. No one had ever shown you such care and here you were, plotting out his murder. 

But you simply had to do this. Freedom was only one dead body away for you. One more hit and you could finally wash your hands of this place, disappear to another court—perhaps one that would allow you to bathe in the sunlight for the rest of your days, something the citizens of Hewn City had never really experienced.

Kill Azriel.

Kill the shadowsinger and you'll be free to go. 

Those had been Keir's exact words. 

You had killed before. There was a time when your finger was covered in black lines, a new one added every time you didn't have enough money to pay the house fee or enough for food and had to borrow from Lydia. One every time you failed to perform for a client, no matter what they asked of you. But now you were down to one last mark. 

One for the Shadowsinger. 

One for Azriel. 

You let out a sigh, sitting down at your vanity to brush your hair. Azriel was due to show up any moment now. Ever since that night at the party, he had been coming by at this time every single night. He would buy out all the nights Lydia would allow him to before showing up. 

He never even made it seem like he expected sex on any given night. Sometimes the two of you would just cuddle in bed, whispering stories to each other about your lives. Sometimes he would come all tense and frustrated with whatever the High Lord had demanded of him. On those nights you would offer to give him a massage and listen to him complain about how much he hated his work. It seemed like the two of you had that in common, at the very least. 

You hadn't made any attempts yet. You told yourself it was because you were planning out the best way to kill Azriel. Poison, knives, strangling. There were a multitude of ways to do it. But you knew deep down what the true reason was. You had grown fond of the Shadowsinger. You didn't want to kill him.

But your wants and needs had never really ever agreed with each other your whole life. 

So here you were. Waiting for Azriel to come so you could poison him and be done with this Gods awful place. You wanted out of the labyrinth and unfortunately, this was the only way. 

No matter how much you liked Azriel, he was the one standing in the way of your freedom. 

You saw his shadows before him. They seeped underneath the door to your room like smoke. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of them before pure dread washed over you. 

Kill Azriel. 

Kill him. 

A gentle knock on your door was heard before it was pushed open and the Shadowsinger stepped through the threshold, his beautiful face illuminated by the candlelight. His hazel eyes searched the room until they landed on you and you watched as they lit up ever so slightly—the most emotion he would allow himself to show.

You set your brush down and stood to face him. Azriel stalked forward and by his body language alone, you knew the sort of mood he was in. You braced yourself on the vanity behind you as he came to a halt in front of you, tilting your head up to stare at his lethal and devastatingly beautiful face. 

He didn’t speak as he grabbed your face in his hands and kissed you with a frenzy that lit your body on fire. You returned the passion, stringing your arms around his neck to pull yourself closer to him. His presence washed over you like a tempestuous storm, all encompassing. You lost yourself in it—in him. 

You had never felt so taken by someone before. But being with Azriel was just so easy. He was a breath of fresh air in this otherwise suffocating labyrinth. 

He pulled away all too soon.

You opened your eyes, heart pounding in your chest. “What was that for?”

“I missed you,” he murmured, voice hoarse. 

You smiled up at him. “You saw me last night, silly.”

“And yet still I miss you the moment I leave.” He buried his face in the crook of your neck and your hands slid into his dark hair. He exhaled a breath that kissed the sensitive skin of your throat. 

You didn’t want to say it out loud, but you felt the same way. Every second apart from Azriel felt like a lifetime. You gently raked your nails over his scalp and you felt his body loosen in your hold, finally relaxing. 

Your eyes fell on the decanter of whiskey sitting on the bar cart. So unassuming. So ordinary. But it held your freedom. You swallowed harshly as Azriel pulled away from you

“Go sit,” you said to him, nudging him in the direction of the couch. “I’ll get you something to drink.”

You watched him take a seat as you moved over to the bar cart. You picked up a whiskey glass, not even realizing how much your hands were shaking until you did so. You quickly set it back down on the cart, taking a deep breath.

You could do this.

All you had to do was just pour him a drink. Just one drink. That’s all it would take. One drink and he’d be dead within the hour. He’d be dead and your bargain with Keir would be over. You would be free. 

“I need to make a trip back to Velaris before it gets too late.” Azriel’s voice caused you to jump, almost knocking over the whole cart. “I have to give my mission report to Rhys before the day is over.” 

“You mean you haven’t gone to see the High Lord before coming here?” 

“No,” Azriel answered. “I…I just wanted to see you first.”

Your heart snapped into a million pieces in your chest. You frowned, staring at the back of his head. You could hear the hesitation in his voice—could feel how much it had taken out of him to admit that. Azriel wasn’t very forthcoming, so to blatantly confess something like that…

Fuck, you couldn’t do this. Not like this. You couldn’t kill him like a Godsdamn coward. 

You grabbed the decanter and dropped it on the floor, watching it smash into a million pieces just like your heart had. The whiskey splattered on the ground, soaking into the carpet. Azriel whipped around at the noise, eyebrows high. 

You turned red and stuttered out, “Oops. I-It slipped right out of my hand.” 

He chuckled, the sound deep and rich. You quickly looked away, your heart pounding in your chest. You had been minutes away from killing him. Tears lined your eyes as you knelt down to start picking up the glass shards. Azriel was at your side in a second, grasping your elbow and pulling you up off the ground. 

“Don’t touch it. You’ll cut yourself,” he murmured. “Let me take care of it.” 

His care, his concern, it only made you feel so much worse. You sucked in a breath of air, trying to blink away the tears.

“Hey, hey,” he whispered, grasping your face with his scarred hands. He lightly stroked your cheeks with his thumb. “What’s wrong?” 

You stared up at him, into his devastating hazel eyes. “Why are you so kind to me?” Your voice cracked, your throat hoarse as you held back your cries. “I have done nothing to earn your care.” 

“Earn my care? Angel, you don’t have to do anything to earn my care. I care for you because…because,” Azriel paused for a moment, almost like he was debating something. “Because you allow me an escape from my duties—from my incredibly lonely life. When I’m with you, I don’t think about anything else. There is nothing you need to do for me. Just allowing me to see you—to be with you—that is enough.” 

“Azriel, I….” You wanted to tell him everything. Wanted to tell him about your bargain with Keir—about the steward’s demand that you kill him. But the words wouldn’t come out of your mouth. “I just wanted to help you relax and I’ve already messed it up. I’m sorry. Let me go down to the cellar to get another bottle—”

“I don’t need alcohol to relax. I just need you, angel.” 

You were speechless. So utterly speechless. Any words you might’ve said got caught in your throat. All you could do was stare up at him—up at this beautiful male who had shown you he was nothing like the reputation that followed him around. He was gentle, kind, and so much better than anyone you’d ever met in this wretched city. He deserved so much more than this, so much more than you. 

“Okay?” Azriel said, knocking you out of your thoughts. 

You nodded your head, swallowing down your cries. 

“Okay,” you murmured back. 

Tonight you’d give him what he wanted. It was the least you could do. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Azriel flew back to Velaris feeling lighter than he had in decades. It was probably irresponsible that he had gone to see his mate before giving his High Lord his mission report, but he had needed to see her. To feel her in his arms after the day he had in the Illyrian mountains. 

Tonight had been a blessing. She always took care of him like she knew exactly what he needed. And tonight he had just needed to hold her. She had talked him into a massage, her hands magic against his skin and muscles and then they had just laid together, talking about everything and nothing. 

He felt more rested than he would have if he had tried to go to sleep. He felt refreshed, buoyant—like he could take on anything that was thrown his way as long as he had his angel to return to. 

It was nearing six in the morning now and he knew Rhys would be awake, usually tending to Nyx while Feyre got some desperately needed rest. He landed with a small thud in front of the River House and quietly made his way inside. He paused as his shadows whispered to him that Rhys was waiting in his office—no babe in sight. 

When he opened the door to the office, Rhys was indeed waiting for him—arms crossed and his brows furrowed. Azriel quietly closed the door behind him, pulling out his report from the shadow realm and setting it on the desk in front of his High Lord. Rhys glanced down at it for a second before looking back at him. 

“Azriel,” Rhys said, “Where have you been all night? I’ve been trying to reach you but your mental shields were up.”

Azriel cleared his throat before answering. “I had a matter to attend to before I came here.” 

He kept his voice devoid of any emotion. He didn’t want anyone to find out about her yet—his angel. She was his for now. His secret, his love, his mate. 

Rhys raised an eyebrow at him, nostrils flaring. “Is this matter the reason why you smell of cheap perfume and aphrodisiacs?” 

Azriel shrugged, nonchalantly. “This matter is none of your business.” 

“Am I wrong to assume that your scent means that you’ve taken my advice?” 

A muscle in Azriel’s jaw twitched but he refrained from speaking in anger. “Everything you need to know about the mission is in that report,” he said, nodding towards the file on Rhys’s desk. “If that is all, I will take my leave.” 

Rhys frowned. “No, that is not all. Please, sit, Azriel. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.” 

Azriel begrudgingly sat in the armchair in front of Rhys’s desk. All he wanted to do was go back to his apartment and get ready to see his angel again in a few hours. He’d once again bought out all her time slots, leaving her with no clients other than himself. Meanwhile, he tried every night to convince her to leave with him, to return with him to Velaris. But something was holding her back…or perhaps she didn’t feel for him the way he did for her. 

That was a depressing thought that he frequently lingered on. 

“What is it?” Azriel asked, wanting to get this conversation over with. 

Rhys rubbed his jaw, his striking violet eyes assessing Azriel. “I’ve been meaning to apologize for the way I spoke to you on Solstice Night. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t angry when I saw you and Elain together, so ready to make your…affections known in plain sight—especially when she has yet to reject the bond with Lucien. But I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did.” 

Azriel tensed in his chair at the memory of that night—at the cruel words Rhys had thrown his way. But unlike before, no hurt came from the memory. No hurt, no longing, no despair. Nothing. Instead, where that hole had been in his chest before was now filled with thoughts and longing for his angel…his sweet mate. 

“It’s fine,” Azriel replied, stiffly. “You did the right thing. It would have been a political nightmare had Lucien seen us.” 

Rhys nodded. “It would’ve. Especially with how many ties he has to other courts—other courts we’re still trying to repair our reputation with. But I treated you like one of my subjects that night and not like a friend. It wasn’t just Lucien I was thinking of, but you too, Azriel. I don’t want to see you hurt if you give your all to Elain and she decides to pursue the bond further down in the line.” 

“It wasn’t your choice to make. It was mine,” Azriel can’t help but say. To his surprise, Rhys nodded his agreement.

“You're right. It is not my choice nor is it my life to live,” Rhys said. “Which is why I’ve decided to rescind my orders for you to stay away from her. I just ask that if you two do pursue something together, please use discretion—especially when Lucien is around. At least until she fully rejects the bond or tells him of her own affairs. Is that reasonable enough?” 

Azriel stood from his seat. “I appreciate the apology, Rhys. But everything else is not needed. I have no plans to pursue Elain or court her. Is that all?” 

Rhys stood as well, his jaw flexing. “So I was right, then? You were willing to throw away our relations with other courts for a female you have no interest in months later? Azriel, I can’t even speak to how irresponsible that would’ve been.” 

“Well, nothing happened. You intervened at the right moment,” Azriel said, coldly. 

Rhys studied him again. “No, that isn’t like you, Az. Something else has happened. Does this have anything to do with that female you had hanging off you in Hewn City? Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with a prostitute of all people now.” 

Anger striked through Azriel like lightning. 

“Watch how you speak about her,” he snarled, hands flexing. 

Rhys gaped at him with a disbelieving look. “Godsdamnit, Azriel. Are you that desperate for love that you have truly fallen for someone you’re paying to be in your company?”

“If you are truly my brother,” Azriel growled. “If you truly have my best interest in mind, then you will drop this now. I don’t need your advice or your concern.” 

“Of course I have your best interests in mind! But, Azriel, this is lunacy. I don’t know what that female has told you, but she only cares for your money. If you had any sense, you’d put a stop to this—”

Azriel lunged forward, slamming his hands on Rhys’s desk, shadows spiraling around him. 

“I said,” he snapped, bearing his teeth, his voice as cold as ice. “Watch how you speak about her.” 

Rhys’s mouth dropped open in shock and before he could say anything else, Azriel disappeared in a flurry of shadows. He needed to leave, far too tempted to rearrange Rhys’s face with his fists. So he let his shadows take him somewhere else he knew he could let off steam—the training ring.

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The Second Attempt 

Azriel was laying next to you, fast asleep. Even his shadows had rescinded to the dark corners of the room, content to leave their master in your hands. The hands that were currently holding a dagger, shaking as you straddled his sleeping body. 

Why was this so hard?

You had killed plenty of males like this before. 

But as you stared down at Azriel’s beautifully peaceful face, something ached terribly in your chest. He looked so much more boyish when he slept. His dark hair tousled, his large wings relaxed, the harsh lines of his face smoothed out. 

The room was dark except for the singular candle on your nightstand, half illuminating his handsome face. He was nude from the waist up, his swirling Illyrian tattoos on display—tattoos you often traced over as the two of you laid in bed together. 

It had taken a while for Azriel to actually fall asleep in your presence. The first few times he had spent the night, you had woken up to him holding you in his arms, staring at you as though you were his entire world—like nothing else mattered in that moment but you. It had caused your heart to flutter and ache. 

But now here he was, asleep. A sign that he trusted you now. Trusted that he could sleep and not have to be vigilant. And he looked so vulnerable like this. Gentle and soft. Nowhere was the usual foreboding and threatening aura that followed him around.

So vulnerable. 

So unassuming.

So clueless that you were currently straddling him with a dagger held above your head, ready to strike. 

You blinked as you felt watchful eyes on you, freezing. His shadows had meandered out of the dark recesses of the room, slowly crawling your way—like they were giving you the opportunity to stop this yourself before they intervened.

You let out a deep breath and lowered your arms. 

Poisoning him had been a coward’s move and so was killing him in his slumber. If his shadows had any sense, they’d strangle you right here and now. You fell off of him, laying back down at his side. The shadows rescinded, the threat gone in their eyes. 

But as long as your freedom was dependent on Azriel’s life, he would always be in danger around you. No matter how much you wished to not hurt him. No matter what you felt for him. 

Azriel had to die. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

Azriel had never felt happiness like this before you. Not truly. He hadn’t even known it, hadn’t known that this was something he could feel. But here he was, his heart full and his mind at peace. There was only one thing that could make this better than it was.

He ghosted his scarred fingers over your bare back, lightly touching your soft skin. You were laying on your stomach next to him, nude except for the silk sheets pulled to your waist. 

His lips twitched as you let out a tiny noise of satisfaction at his touch, turning your head on your folded hands so you could stare up at him. 

He would never tire of staring at you—at your beautiful, serene face. Your alias made perfect sense. Serenity. That was what you made him feel. Though he felt a twinge of jealousy at the thought of how many other males might’ve felt like this around you. 

The only solace he had now was making sure that you were his from now on. He didn’t care how much money he had to spend to keep you occupied with him. So long as it meant you’d be his angel and no one else’s. 

You smiled up at him and the sight was so breathtaking, he lost his train of thought. 

“What are you thinking about?” You asked in that sweet voice that melted his ice cold heart. 

“You,” Azriel replied, honestly. 

You scrunched your nose at him, your smile growing. He trailed a finger down the slope of it, watching your eyes flutter at his soft touch. 

“That’s what you always say.”

He shrugged a shoulder. “It’s the truth.” 

“You're sweet,” you teased, making him chuckle.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever described me as sweet, Angel.”

It was your turn to shrug a shoulder. “You’re sweet to me.” 

“You’re special,” he said, so genuinely that it made your heart skip a beat. 

“Am I?” 

“Yes,” he said, brushing your hair off your back and over your shoulder. “Of course you are.” 

You closed your eyes with a hum, content as he began to trace lines down your back again. 

“Can I ask you something?” 

Your eyes flew open, brows furrowing. You gave him a small nod, curiously. 

“Do you…” he trailed off for a second, his voice lacking the sureness it had a moment ago. “Do you…feel this—this thing between us the way I do?”

“Azriel,” you warned, making his hand pause on your back. This was a topic you tried to stray away from with clients. You weren’t supposed to develop true feelings for any of them and you hadn’t. Not until…

“I know, I know,” he said quickly. “I understand your line of work. But I…I can’t help what I feel, Angel. Tell me you feel it too.” 

You frowned, a nasty feeling coiling in your gut. It should be easy to say no. But that wouldn’t be the truth, would it? No, the truth was you did feel it—that fiery energy between the two of you. Azriel was different. He didn’t feel like a client. He called you by your real name, knew personal details about your life. All things you had shared for some unknown reason. 

All you knew was that you had wanted to share those things with him so you did. You wanted Azriel in a way you’d never wanted anyone else. You wanted to know him, craved his presence when he was gone, loved being with him like this. 

The line between the two of you was so blurred, you weren’t sure it had ever existed in the first place. 

You looked back up at him, your eyes conveying the things you couldn’t yet say out loud. Because you couldn’t let yourself feel like this. 

But Azriel stared back at you, knowingly, like he could read everything you had spelled out in your mind. “You don’t have to say it, Angel. I just need to know.” 

You rolled onto your back, letting out a sigh. “Azriel, we can’t—”

“Why not?” He cut in. “Why not, Angel? If you…if you feel something for me then please, take me up on my offer. Let me take you to Velaris. You don’t even have to live with me. I can buy you your own apartment and anything you need. You’d never have to work again. I could take care of you, Angel, the way you deserve to be taken care of.” 

And what a life that would be. Free of this place, of this gods awful city. Free to live with Azriel. Free to do as you please. Free to bask under the sun, to see the stars in all their glory—no longer buried under this mountain. 

But it wasn’t possible. It was a dream and only a dream. So long as that mark was still on your finger, this was all you could offer him before he’d meet his demise. 

“Azriel, I can’t,” you murmured. “You know this.” 

“But why? Whatever reason or worry you have, tell me. I can’t stand leaving you here day and night. I can’t stand the thought of another having you.”

You rose from the bed, hiding your face from his sight so he didn’t see the tears lining your eyes. You quickly shrugged on a night gown, hugging yourself as you lingered by your dresser. 

You didn’t want to talk about this. You didn’t want to confront this head on. You couldn’t. Just like your other dreams, it would never come true for you. 

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew he had pushed too far but he couldn’t help it. “I’m sorry. I’ll drop it just please come back to bed.” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. You should kick him out, send him home. You should tell him to never come back even if it meant you’d be stuck in this place forever without his death on your hands. 

“Please,” he whispered. “Come back.” 

The pure desperation in his voice had you folding. You laid back down next to him, let him take you in his strong arms once again. 

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

The Third Attempt

It had taken at least twenty minutes for you to lug Azriel off the bed and into the chair that you dragged into the center of the room. The faebane laced sleep draught had done its part in this scheme. Azriel had been knocked out, his shadows nowhere to be seen. 

And now you were tying him to the chair with some strong rope, in knots you knew he wouldn't be able to undo. 

Another week had gone by with no attempts on his life due in part to your growing feelings for the shadowsinger. But a visit from Keir had you snapping out of whatever hold Azriel had on you. You needed to do this. You needed to kill him and put an end to this. It wasn't fair, it was never going to be fair but it had to happen.

Out of all the males you had killed, you knew this was the only one that would linger with you for the rest of your life. But it was a necessary sacrifice if it meant you could not only leave this awful city but this Labyrinth too. 

You decided you weren't going to be a coward about this. Azriel deserved to be looked in the eyes as you killed him, otherwise the shame might just eat you alive. It would be so much easier to just try and poison him again but you knew this was the only way it would get done. Maybe you could explain it to him, maybe he would understand. 

Hell, part of you was hoping he'd fight his way from the binds and end your life himself. Would that be a better outcome to this mess? 

You were still debating that.

For now you leaned against the wall, fiddling with your dagger as you waited for him to wake up. You had spent all last night making sure he was happy—content. You had given him everything. Your body, your heart, your mind. It would be your last gift to him. 

But your freedom was hanging in the air between the two of you and that far outweighed anything else. You had been lost in this labyrinth for far too long. It was time for you to finally find your way out. Unfortunately, your way out was through th—killing the one male who had made you feel things you'd never thought you would.

"A-Angel?"

Azriel's hoarse voice made you stand up straight, your gaze falling on him tied to the chair. He blinked a few times, still a bit drowsy from the draught. You watched as he slowly realized his predicament, that he was tied up and without his shadows. He yanked at the binds that had his arms held behind his back, strung up to the chair. 

"Angel," he repeated, finally catching sight of you, "What...what is this? Why...why am I tied up?" 

You stalked forward and he noticed the dagger you held in your hand. His eyes went wide with alarm and he stared up at you in disbelief. He tried to yank himself free again, making the wood of the chair groan. 

“What are you doing?”

“I didn’t want to do this,” you started with a sigh. 

Azriel stopped his struggling, raising an eyebrow at you. “Do what?”

“Kill you,” you said, bluntly. 

Azriel was silent for a moment before he burst into laughter. Your brows furrowed in confusion at his reaction. Normally this was when males started demanding you untie them or pleading for their lives depending on how much pride they had. 

“What’s so funny?” You snapped, taking a step closer to him. 

Azriel shook his head, his laughter fading. “You’re not going to kill me.” 

You frowned. “I am. I have to.” 

Azriel leaned back in the chair, his wings held out proudly. He had completely ceased his struggling, all the alarm gone from his eyes. “And pray tell, Angel, why do you have to kill me?” 

“It doesn’t matter,” you answered quickly, trying to regain your composure. “Not to you anyways.” 

“Well, seeing as I am the one about to die,” Azriel remarked, so nonchalantly, “then I think it does matter.”

He smirked at you, furthering your confusion. Why was he acting so…so calm?! You narrowed your eyes at him, closing the distance between the two of you.

“Why are you smiling?” You huffed, fisting his hair and pulling his head back to expose his throat. You pressed the dagger against his pulse point. 

“It’s cute that you think you’re in control here,” he shrugged, that smile not leaving his face. 

“I am in control here,” you snapped. “In case you haven’t noticed, you’re the one tied up!”

“Am I?” He drawled out before yanking at the binds again. “Ah, you’re right. I am.”

You stepped away from him with a sneer. “Why are you acting like this!”

“Like what, Angel?” He smirked at you again, flicking his hair out of his face. 

“Like I’m not about to kill you! Like you’re not about to die!” 

“I’m hoping we can talk this out,” Azriel shrugged. 

“There is nothing to talk about,” you growled, frustrated. You’d expected some yelling or shouts from him, maybe a few pleas thrown in but not whatever this was. 

“I beg to differ,” he replied, “seeing as I’m about to die, I’d like to know why.” 

“Because…you…I—fuck!” You turned away from him, holding the sides of your head in exasperation. You squeezed your eyes shut, Keir’s words replaying in your head on repeat. 

The smile dropped from Azriel’s face at the show of your distress. “Angel, come on. Just drop the dagger and talk to me. Whoever has put you up to this can be dealt with.” 

“You don’t understand,” you cried out. 

“Then make me understand,” Azriel pleaded. “Please.” 

“I have to kill you, Azriel,” you wept. “I have to or I’ll be stuck here forever.” 

“Stuck here? Stuck in The Labyrinth?”

“Yes!” You let out a tiny sob, still not facing him. “If I don’t….if I don’t kill you, I won’t be able to leave.” 

“Angel,” Azriel whispered, “Why would you be stuck here? If you need help leaving, I’ve already offered to get you out.” 

You whirled around to face him. “I can’t just leave, don’t you get it! I can’t just walk out of here like you. I’m trapped.”

“Trapped? Angel, please explain it to me. You’re not making any sense.”

“I was so, so stupid. So stupid, so naive,” you cried. 

“Just tell me what it is,” Azriel said, gently. “Let me help you!”

“You can’t,” you whispered, wiping away the tears streaming down your face. “You can’t help me. Not with this.” 

“Why?”

“Because I made a bargain with Keir,” you said, staring down at the dagger in your hand. “All the girls here have to do it. We get to work here, not get sold off and eventually we will be allowed to leave but…”

“Not without a price,” Azriel filled in the blanks. “So what do you owe Keir favors or something?”

You shook your head. “We’re given marks and targets. He tells us a name and we…we kill them for him.” 

“And let me guess, Keir gave you my name?”

“Yes, he did,” you sighed. “You’re supposed to be my last mark. After this…I’ll be free.”

Silence fell over the room. Silence until Azriel uttered one sentence. 

“So kill me.”

Your head shot up in surprise. “W-what?”

“Kill me,” he repeated, staring directly into your eyes. “If it means you’ll be free, if it means you can leave this place and have a life of your own…kill me.”

“Azriel,” you murmured. “I—”

Azriel yanked himself out of the binds, causing you to gasp. He gripped your arm and dragged you to him, angling the dagger right against his heart.

“Do it, Angel,” he whispered. “It’s okay. Kill me. I want you to be free. I want a better life for you. So kill me.” 

You stared at him, tears pouring down your face. Your hand was shaking as you held the dagger against his skin. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Azriel was giving you his permission, telling you to do it, to kill him. 

He kept a firm grip on your wrist, burying the dagger deeper so it pricked his skin. A small droplet of blood formed, sliding down his bare chest. “Do it, Angel, please.” 

“I-I…I can’t,” you sobbed. No matter how much you tried to convince yourself to push the dagger straight through to his heart, you couldn’t. “I can’t.” 

“Why?” Azriel asked. “Why can’t you?”

“I just…I can’t—”

“Why!” Azriel shouted, making you jump. Your hand was shaking so bad now, tears still streaming down your cheeks. “Why can’t you do it! Tell me why!”

“I don’t know,” you stuttered out through a sob. “I don’t know��”

“Yes, you do,” Azriel said, sternly. “You know why.”

You shook your head, sobbing. He pressed the dagger deeper into his skin. “Why can’t you kill me, Angel? Come on, you know. You know why.” 

He was right. 

You knew why.

You’d known all along. Since the moment you had laid eyes on him that night he came to your room. Something deep inside of you had recognized it and subconsciously buried it. But you couldn’t deny it any longer. 

“Say it,” Azriel demanded. “You know why. Say it!”

You let out a sob.

“You’re….you’re my mate.”

───  ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅  ───

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[syluslnd]

requesting sylus going dumb for that pussy please

Sylus eating you out

You're sprawled out on the couch, bored out of your mind as Sylus works at his desk. He glances over at you from time to time, his eyes flickering with amusement at your restless shifting. You're wearing a mini skirt but you're so comfortable around him that you don't even think twice about how you're lounging.

You stretch your legs, shifting again, unintentionally parting them a little wider than you realized. Sylus, though casually sitting at his desk, immediately takes notice.

His face changes, his sharp gaze locking onto you with a different kind of intensity.

Still unaware, you continue lounging until, in a split second, Sylus is standing right in front of you, his tall frame towering over where you're laying. His presence is so sudden that you nearly jump, quickly closing your legs in a shy attempt to cover yourself. "S-Sylus” you stammer, the blush already creeping across your cheeks.

He leans in, his face just inches from yours and you can see the amusement dancing in his eyes. His lips curl into a teasing smile as he murmurs, "It's too late for blushing now, kitten."

Before you can even think of responding, Sylus's hands are on you, effortlessly prying your legs apart with his strength. His grip is firm, unyielding, as he spreads your legs wide, his eyes dropping down to take in the sight.

"Look at you" he teases, his voice low, filled with that familiar edge of control. His fingers trace along the edge of your skirt, lifting it slightly as his gaze settles on your underwear. His smirk deepens. "Cute choice."

Your blush deepens, heat flooding your cheeks as you instinctively try to close your legs again but Sylus's grip is too strong. He keeps them forced open with ease, his bare strength leaving you completely powerless against him. You're no match for him and the realization only intensifies your breathless anticipation.

Sylus watches you struggle, his smirk shifting into something darker, more devilish.

His hand moves slowly, teasingly, his fingernail tracing the outline of your clit through the fabric of your underwear. You shudder under his touch, your breath hitching as his fingers glide so agonizingly slow up and down, barely brushing against you but enough to send sparks of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Look at you, sweetie” he murmurs, his voice a smooth, dangerous whisper.

"Breathing so hard and I've barely even touched you." His words are dripping with amusement, watching you writhe under the faintest of his touches. His fingernail grazes over you again but harder,making you gasp as the sensation intensifies. "So sensitive... you're going to fall apart, aren't you?"

You try once again to shut your legs, to block out the overwhelming feeling but Sylus isn't having any of it. His hand clamps down on your thigh, keeping you spread wide with ease. He leans in, his breath hot against your neck as he whispers, "Don't even try to resist, kitten. You know you can't win."

Without another word, Sylus swiftly scoops you up into his arms and before you can even catch your breath, he's carrying you across the room. You know where he's taking you.

His special room-the one filled with all sorts of toys and devices he keeps for moments just like this. Your heart races as the door to the room swings open, revealing the dimly lit space, the shelves lined with tools of his desires, each one carefully selected for maximum control.

Sylus strides over to the bed, gently but firmly placing you down. Before you can even think to resist, he's already tying you up, his movements quick and efficient, like he's done this countless times before. He binds your wrists above your head but he doesn't stop there. He moves to your legs, tying them to the posts at the end of the bed, forcing them apart until they're spread wide, completely exposed and vulnerable to him.

You tug at the restraints but they hold firm and you know you're at his mercy now. Sylus stands back for a moment, admiring his work with a satisfied smirk, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Perfect” he says softly, his voice filled with anticipation. He moves back in, his fingers returning to where they left off, tracing along your clit once more but this time with a purpose,with nothing holding him back. "Now, let's see just how long you can take it, sweetie."

His touch is slow, teasing, drawing out the sensation until you can barely breathe, your body reacting to every light stroke. You're completely helpless, and Sylus is in full control-just the way he likes it.

His eyes linger on you with a mixture of dominance and desire and he then gets up to walk over to one of the shelves. You hear the faint sound of metal clicking and when he turns back around, you see the tool in his hand: scissors. Your breath catches as he approaches, and his smirk widens when he notices your reaction.

"Oh, don't look so nervous, sweetie" he teases, stepping close to you. "I just want to get a better view."

With slow, deliberate movements, he slides the cold metal on the fabric of your panties and your skin. You shiver as he carefully begins to cut, his eyes never leaving yours as he slices through the fabric.

The sound of the scissors cutting feels deafening in the otherwise quiet room. Inch by inch, your panties fall away, leaving you bare, fully exposed under his predatory gaze.

"There we go" Sylus murmurs, discarding the ruined fabric to the side. He takes a step back, his eyes roaming over your now fully exposed body. "Look at you. Absolutely perfect, kitten” he says, his voice low and rich with satisfaction. "All mine. You're blushing, but there's no need to be shy.You're beautiful like this."

You can't help but turn your head away, too embarrassed by how exposed you are. But Sylus doesn't allow it-he cups your chin, forcing you to look at him. "Ah-ah, none of that" he whispers, his tone teasing but firm.

"I want you to see everything. I want you to know how much I'm enjoying this. How much I'm enjoying you."

His words send a shiver down your spine and before you can respond, Sylus's hands are on your thighs, his touch firm yet tantalizing. He spreads you even wider, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of your pussy, fully revealed and vulnerable under his control. He hums appreciatively, his thumb grazing your inner thigh, so close yet not quite touching where you want him to.

"You're so pretty, you know that?" he says, his voice smooth and teasing. "So sensitive...i bet you're already aching for me, aren't you?"

His hand hovers just above your entrance, the heat of his touch teasing you to the point of madness but he's not in any hurry. He enjoys watching you squirm, helpless and needy. "Look at you” he murmurs, his tone dropping lower. "So wet already and I've barely even touched you. You love this, don't you, kitten? Being so exposed, knowing I'm the only one who gets to see you like this..."

You can't help but whimper in response, your hips instinctively moving toward him but he holds you steady, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

Then, without warning, Sylus leans down between your legs, his breath hot against your skin. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his tongue slide up the length of your entrance, slow and deliberate, teasing you with every flick of his tongue. He hums against you, clearly pleased with the effect he's having.

"Such a sweet taste” he whispers between licks, his voice muffled but still dripping with mischief. "I could do this all night."

Your head falls back against the pillows as he continues, his tongue swirling over your most sensitive spot before dipping lower, giving your entrance a slow, sensual lick. The sensation is overwhelming and your body trembles beneath him. You try to close your legs again but with a firm grip on your thighs, Sylus keeps you wide open, fully exposed and at his mercy.

"You're not getting away from me” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks. "I want to taste every part of you."

He lowers his head deeper, this time wrapping his lips around your entrance and sucking, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body. You gasp, your back arching off the bed as pleasure courses through you.

His tongue flicks against you while he sucks, each movement designed to drive you closer to the edge.

"Mmm, that's it, kitten" Sylus purrs between slow, deliberate licks and sucks. "I want to hear you. Don't hold back."

His hands keep your thighs spread, his grip unrelenting and he looks up at you as he continues his assault, his eyes gleaming with amusement and control. "You taste so good... You have no idea how much I love this."

The teasing licks and intense sucking become almost too much and your breaths come in quick, ragged gasps. You're entirely at his mercy and Sylus knows it-he's savoring every moment, every reaction, every tremble of your body.

"Come on, sweetie” he murmurs, his voice a mix of command and dark affection. "Let me hear those sweet little sounds. I want to know just how much you love being mine."

Sylus continues to work his magic, his fingers sliding inside you with a skilled rhythm that has your breath hitching in your throat. He keeps the pace steady, his tongue mirroring the motions of his fingers as they create a delicious harmony of sensations.

Each flick and thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, igniting a fire within you that builds with every passing moment.

You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, your body responding eagerly to his ministrations. A soft moan escapes your lips and Sylus's gaze darkens, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your heart race. It's as if he's absorbing every sound, every reaction, feeding off your pleasure.

"You're so responsive" he murmurs, his voice low and sultry. "Just a little more, kitten."

His fingers and tongue work in perfect synchronization and you can feel the heat pooling in your core. Your body begins to tense, the world around you fading as you focus solely on the sensation building inside you. You're close, so close and you can't help but arch your back in response to the pleasure he's giving you.

"Please, Sylus" you gasp, the words tumbling out in a breathless plea.

He doesn't miss a beat, increasing the pressure just slightly, his thumb grazing your most sensitive spot as he continues his rhythmic dance. The sensations become overwhelming and you can feel your body shaking as the tension reaches its peak.

You're teetering on the edge and with one final flick of his tongue, you feel the wave crash over you.

Your vision blurs and a cry of pure bliss escapes your lips as you finally come undone. Every nerve in your body ignites, the pleasure surging through you in waves as Sylus holds you steady, guiding you through the climax with gentle, knowing strokes.

As you come down from the high, you're left breathless and blushing, a mess of emotions and sensations. Sylus watches you with an appreciative grin, his own eyes dark with satisfaction as he savors your taste, his fingers lingering as if reluctant to let go.

"You're perfect" he whispers, leaning in closer, his voice thick with mischief. "oh and just so you know, I'm far from done tasting you." He kisses your cheek, a teasing glint in his eye. "Get ready for another round, sweetie."

[peachdues]

ALL THE THINGS WE LEFT UNSAID — NSFW TEASER

Tengen’s Bundle of Joy • secret pregnancy AU

A/N: oh yeah, this isn’t going to go wrong in the slightest, not at all —

CW: MDNI • explicit sexual content below

READ THE PROLOGUE HERE

Uzui slumps against the doorframe with a quiet exhale. “Look at you.”

The sound of his voice is enough to set you on edge, but the sight of him nearly knocks you over. It’s unfair that such an insufferable pain in the ass would be so damn pretty.

You scowl and the child in your belly shifts, sensing your unease. “Get out. I’m in no mood for your insults or mockeries —“

“You’re beautiful.” He chances a single, cautious step past the entryway, eyes dazed as he stares at you, as though in a trance.

“Why are you here?”

That seems to catch his attention, the dazed fog in his eyes clearing with a few, quick blinks. “I wanted to see how you were.” He swallows, hard. “How you both were.”

Warily, you step back, turning your hips away from him. “You’ve known where I was for months, and you wait until now?” You don’t bother to hold back the chill in your tone. Better to keep the distance between you firm rather than have to make up the slack when he inevitably decides to cross your boundaries.

——

“I can help,” his exhale is hot against your neck, though not more so than his hands as they skim down your shoulders. His fingers play with the opening in your robe. “You know I can. You don’t have to endure this alone.”

Oh, he could. He’d done such wicked things to you with just his mouth and hands alone, never mind what he done with the rest of him, so thick and hard.

The warmth bleeding into your back is like a drug, and you can’t help but melt into him as he ghosts his lips along the slope of your shoulder.

“Do you know how I’ve dreamed of you?” Surprisingly limber fingers push beneath the front folds of your yukata to graze the bare skin above your collar bone. Though the room is warm thanks to the fire cracking merrily in the hearth, you find yourself shivering as your robe teases lightly across your skin, baring more of you to the open air.

The breadth of the Sound Pillar’s forearm across your chest keeps you locked in place against him. “I’m at your mercy every time I fall asleep.”

“Uzu — oh,” your head thuds against his sternum when his fingers — those damn fingers — find your exposed breast.

“You realized it too that night, didn’t you?” The slow parting of your robe from your shoulders spreads goosebumps over your skin where the fabric drags. Between his hands and the teasing caress of your robe sliding down your arms, every nerve in your body comes alive. You sink further into him, bare from the top of your rounded belly, up.

Uzui’s arms swallow you up from behind, and his lips find your shoulder. “That we were made for one another? It’s why we didn’t stop, isn’t it?”

Too much; his hands are too warm, his mouth far too soft where it dances along your desperate skin. It’s been so long since you’ve been touched by anyone, let alone by someone whose caress almost could pass for something reverent. Loving.

It’s been so long since anyone cared.

“Aren’t you tired of us playing this game?” He asks, as though you’d been the one responsible for putting the pieces on the board. “Why do we have to keep dancing around it?”

Uzui doesn’t say what exactly it is he speaks of, and you know better than to ask. It is a door that cannot be shut once opened, and there is no point in trying to force it, anyways.

After all, you were not the one who locked it in the first place.

He drops to his knees before you, staring up at you with something like awe.

“I want you both to be mine.” He whispers, his forehead pressing to the generous swell of your stomach before he peers up at you. for a moment, all of the heat brimming in his eyes is smothered out by pure yearning, earnest and desperate.

“My baby,” his gaze remains locked with yours even as his lips softly graze your navel. “My woman.”

His lips travel down the outward curve of your stomach, every kiss an act of worship, until he pauses right before the dip in your thighs.

“Just say yes,” he urges, mouth hovering dangerously —infuriatingly close to where you ache. “I’ll take care of you both, I swear it.”

He seems so earnest. It is almost easy — too easy — to forget what led you here, heavily pregnant with his child.

You’d be more useful dead.

being horny doesn’t fix your problem, idiot

[cowboyfromh3ll]

you said to do headcannons right?

can you do sex headcannons for the members of the gang? Only ones you're comfortable with obv. Personally, I don't care much for Micah (I want to set him on fire) so feel free to leave him out if you don't feel like writing for him

But the usual Dutch, John, Javier, Arthur, Charles, and anybody else you feel like are just perfect. I love your writing, so I'm excited to see your take on these

<3

Sex HC Ft. Van Der Linde Gang

(Dutch Van Der Linde, John Marston, Javier Escuella, Arthur Morgan, Charles Smith, Lenny Summers, Kieran Duffy, Micah Bell, Sean Macguire, Sadie Adler)

I should write for the girls more

Warnings: Smut, duh

Dutch Van Der Linde

He probably loves roleplaying

Pretending he's the outlaw and you're the officer punishing him

But most times he loves being in control of you, thinks it's so attractive when you submit completely to him and become his pliable little servant

Likes it when you wear expensive jewelry and gifts he buys you with nothing else on

Definitely wants you to call him Sir

Says the most poetic and flowery things to you during

Probably enjoys receiving but LOVES giving head. Views it as another way to take control

Quickies with him are non existent. To him, sex and intimacy are an art, and he will take his time with every little detail and aspect of it

Enjoys playful brattiness, definitely a brat tamer

I can see him being into BDSM. Ball gags, leather crops, leashes, blindfolds, etc

John Marston

Super messy, super rough, super desperate

Pussy eating pro. I'm talking mind blowing, back arching, toe curling, sheet gripping head. ALWAYS asks if he can go down on you

Acts like every time you two have sex will be the last

On the contrary though, I feel like he'd be into edging

Also doesn't mind letting you be dominant, he has such submissive energy

Mayhaps a mommy kink, because I can also see him calling you mommy

Would let you tie him up, totally at your mercy

He loses any semblance of shame, will beg, cry, whimper, you name it

Could consent to just about anything, if you tell him to bark he'll bark

Gets carried away when during sex sometimes, just gets absolutely drunk from pleasure

Javier Escuella

Incredibly romantic and passionate

He can fuck, but he can also make love

So much sexual stamina, and makes every time you have sex absolutely unforgettable

Loves to make sure you are as comfortable as possible and feel as though you have enough privacy. Even if it means paying for a hotel, he'll do anything to ensure your comfort

But if you wanna have risky public sex he's more than willing to as well lmao

Holds you and whispers how much he loves you while he thrusts slowly

But if y'all are fucking he'll say the filthiest shit he can conjur up in his mind while thrusting as hard and fast as he can

Slaps and grips anything he can hold onto

Overwhelms all of your senses and stimulates you in multiple ways at once

Loves cumming inside you but if not inside then on your torso or face

Arthur Morgan

Loves putting his whole weight on you when y'all fuck

Just simply pinning you down with the size of him drives him crazy

Is such a gentleman even during sex. Always stops and asks how you are and if you like how he's doing

Insists you don't have to go down on him but secretly loves it when you do

His favorite positions are ones where you're totally helpless like mating presses or locking your arms behind you

Whenever he fucks you from behind he wraps his massive arm around your neck. Idly squeezes down on your neck

Enjoys sex totally naked, makes it feel more intimate exposing yourselves fully to each other

But he loves it if you wear cute outfits for him just so he can take it off you

But he absolutely loves quickies. Complains they're too risky but every time you suggest one he's unbuckling his belt before you can finish your sentence

Definitely does the knee thing

Charles Smith

He is a pure giver. You will always cum at least 3 times or else he won't feel like he did a thorough job.

Will ignore his own aching cock as long as he can see you squirm in ecstasy

Your pleasure is his pleasure

Doesn't care if he doesn't get to cum tbh

Definitely aware of his size and uses it to his advantage if you're into that

Cages you in his arms, holds you down, puts you in choke holds, etc

I feel like he'd be pretty vanilla and you'd be the one to bring kinks to the table if anything. Will honestly do most anything you want if it brings you pleasure

Soft but firm touches, like every touch is done with intent and thought

Type to make out with you for hours without any actual stimulation and be content. Will see you off with the bluest balls.

Lenny Summers

He's still pretty young so I believe his experience would be limited

You two are probably eachother's first everythings, atleast you're his

Probably cums real fast but makes up for it with enthusiam

Will try out so many things with you, the two of you will both bring ideas to the table

Tries to start things off slow but his excitement gets the best of him

SO MUCH communication and talking during (feedback, jokes, etc...)

Very forward with his needs

Asks for hand/blow jobs a lot to blow off some steam

Very fast learner, and probably very risky

I feel like he'd ask to finger you a lot in risky situations

There's been instances where he just forgets foreplay altogether and just wants to go at it

Kieran Duffy

Submissive as hell

Definitely whimpers

Let's you take the lead 99% of the time

Will cum within five minutes max, and it really takes it out of him

Super sensitive literally everything. Touch him anywhere and he's blushing and squirming

Loves it if you wrap your thighs around his head

That being said, enjoys face sitting

Feels reassured when you tell him what to do and help him in the process

Hands roam all over you, it's like he can't fathom that you're a real being that's actually doing this with him

Eyes roll back and his face goes red when he cums. He's super embarassed about it

Micah Bell

SO rough. Drags you into position and commands you to do certain things

Likes slapping, hair pulling, spitting, I feel like he'd even be into piss. All of the above would go both ways for him.

Hate sex with him goes crazy ong. And after arguments? Just fucking all your anger away

Into degrading for sure

Sex is definitely the best emotional release for the both of you without actually hurting eachother

He's into marks. That entails scratches, bites, bruises

Make him bleed, literally beat the shit out of him during sex and he'll let it slide

Sex is a constant battle for dominance

Probably makes you do embarassing things for him like bark

Also puts you in obscene and embarassing positions just for his own pleasure

If anyone ever heard y'all have sex they'd think it sounds more like an argument and a fist fight than love making

Sean Macguire

The goofiest man during sex, not even intentionally either. He'll say the stupidest thing you've ever heard with his whole chest and you'll have to ask if he's serious

"You ready for the Macguire special?"

Loud ass moans, cannot contain them. If you're into public sex you better either prepare to be caught or mentally prepare yourself for the influx of scoldings/questions that'll come later

LOVES playful brattiness or when you want to take control. He's all for it

Has fantasies of being woken up with head

Will do the same for you in return if that's what it takes to enact his fantasies

Also into roleplay but way cornier shit like you're a nurse and he's a patient. Indulges in costumes as well

Drunk sex is the best because it's combining two of his favorite things

Sadie Adler

Also definitely does the knee thing...

Genuinely one of the sweetest and more passionate lovers, and it will translate during sex

Super gentle and passionate

Lot's of "I love you"s exchanged

Never any space between you, your limbs constantly intertwined as you kiss and move against eachother

Either of you can take the role as dom, it doesn't matter to her

Smiles the whole time out of pure adoration for you

Can be super sultry and kinky when the time calls for it though

Not opposed to being a little rougher but I can't see her going too far with that

Thinks you're far too delicate and special to be treated in such a way

[sirenmoth]

Phantom Sensation

CW: RAPE/NON-CON, ghost sex, mirror sex, face slapping, face fucking, no lube, no prep, public sex, crying

Standing in the desolate changing cubical, the quietness was deafening as you smoothed over the fabric of the outfit you were trying out. A last minute invite meant a last minute urgent to any nearby clothing store you can find, hoping to score something suitable for the occasion. Turning this way and that to see how it looked and feels, sighing after deciding it didn't seem right as messaging that you weren't going. Looking back into the cubicle mirror you notice a crinkle on the fabric, like someone was holding it in their grasp, but you couldn't feel not see anyone there, and the changing rooms were all empty when you entered, not even an employee in sight.

Going to turn around, you pushed forward against the mirror, face turned sideways and eyes franticly trying to find someone or something in the small space, trying to find whoever or whatever is doing this. But still nothing, you shake and shiver as a set of invisible hands start to undo the fabric from your body, letting it bunch up and fall to the floor, leaving you bear and exposed. Still, the hands wonder, over your skin and down your sides and towards your hole, squeezing your hips and ass. Shaking your head as you plead the thing to leave you alone slip from your lips, unsure if it can actually hear you, you freeze up as you feel as second pair of hands akin to the first around your neck as the ones around your hips pulls you downwards, hard, causing you to fall to the ground with a sicking pop of your joints.

The hands around your neck disappear and the sensation of them squeezing your cheeks together and prying your mouth open is enough to bring tears to your eyes as they widen in fear, one set of fingers digging into your mouth and presses down on your tongue while another presses into your hole with a dry and rough pace and pressing against that sweet spot inside you. The fingers in your mouth reach back far, causing you to gag only to pull out and be replaced but a much thicker and girthier object that reaches the back of your throat again and again, each time it slides back into your mouth, you feel a solid wall hit your face and again and again as you struggle to breath. Your eyes roll back into your skull as the oxygen leaves your lungs

The same object enters your hole, quickly opening you up in one swift motion with the same dry and rough pace as before. Back and forth they move, your brain finally catches up to you, and that’s when you realize the things inside of you are cocks. Two, thick monstrous cocks splitting you open on both end, with no seeming concern for your wellbeing or safety. Seeking out their own pleasure from your own body.

Your vision starts to blacken when the entity in front pulls out, you think it’s giving you mercy as you cough up spit and what seems like pre-cum, but it's hard to tell, head hung low as you take in deep gulps of fresh air, your head swimming and eyes fuzzy, you think the beings are going to show mercy as the one behind slows. Only you were quickly proven wrong, a rough tug on your hair and a sharp slap across your face, again and again, each cheek turning bright red and stained with tears, before the invisible cock was shoved down your throat again. They want you awake for this. Why? You couldn't think of why.

You can see yourself in the mirror, mouth agape and lips swollen, jutting back and forth from the constant pulling from each unseen behind, both wanting you to themselves, treating you like a toy to fight over. Through blurry vision you see your ruined look, thoroughly fucked out and used, messy hair and teary eyes, bruised and sore skin. Muffled whines and gargled moans fill the room, a pained groan echoes out as the two beings empty themselves deep inside you, a salty yet cold substance coats your tongue and slides down your throat. Yet they don’t release you, stilling briefly before sliding out and switching back places, you take it as a moment of peace, to greedy take as much air as you can back in to your lungs, to try and process what is happening before they slide back in, using the goo-like substance left behind prior as lube. Not ready to leave or show mercy until they were satisfied. 

[sweetpascal]

𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 — 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨

gif by: @andrew-lincoln

pairing: perv!stepdad!joel x fem!reader

summary: in times of stress, joel resorts to the one thing that calms him down; a nice bottle of whiskey. after you get dropped off by your date, joel makes sure to remind you just who you really belong to.

warnings: MINORS DNI. BIG AGE GAP [18/52], possessive joel, he's a peeping tom, TW: forced intoxication, peer pressure, manipulation, dumbification, forced first kiss, joel spits in your mouth, finger sucking

wc: 5k (it reached 4,999 words exactly so i added one more to make it even heheheheheh.)

notes: OKAY UM i did not expect this series to get THAT MUCH attention. all of y'all are some dirty little readers just like me. i'm genuinely excited seeing all the comments and reblogs. EXPECT THIS SERIES TO GET A LOT DIRTIER AS THE DAYS PASS.

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

The day was hectic from the moment you woke up. The noise of cabinets slamming, the thud of heavy footsteps on the floorboards, and Joel's loud cursing were inescapable. It was only in the late afternoon that you gathered the courage to leave your room, go downstairs, and tell your stepdad about your date with a friend who had boldly invited you out.

Standing nervously in your spot, dressed in a bikini, jean shorts that rode up your thighs with each step you took, a wide knit crop top that slipped down your shoulders, and a pair of strappy sandals, you twiddle your fingers and waited for Joel to see you standing there.

Joel's upper body was concealed beneath the sink cupboard, a folded pillow cushioning his lower back. His feet, clad in boots, rested on the floor, knees bent skyward. A toolbox lay nearby, with tools and soiled rags strewn about. Another curse slipped quietly from his lips. There was a loud clank of metal that made you jump in your spot.

"Uh, Daddy?" you called out timidly, wincing and flinching as he cursed again, his voice booming and thunderous.

Upon hearing your voice, Joel frowns up at the leaking pipes above his face and sighs deeply. He's been working on these pipes since the minute he woke up. Catching sight of you, he pauses to take in your appearance, looking like a little vision in your short shorts and knitted top that exposes your bikini. He carefully maneuvers himself from under the sink, wincing and groaning when his knees pop as he plants a hand on the counter and lifts himself up to his full height.

"Hey there, pretty girl," he grins and wipes his hand with a rag. "Where ya headed lookin' like a sweet peach, huh?"

Flustered by his compliment and the teasing grin he sends your way, you giggle to yourself and glance down at your fidgeting fingers. Joel takes slow, deliberate steps towards where you stand. He notices the subtle shift in your stance as he approaches.

"I'm heading out to the lake soon," you tell him quietly, glancing up through your lashes. Your breath got caught in your throat when his large hands get a hold of your hips, his thumbs lifting the hem of your top to brush against your exposed skin. "If... If that's alright with... with you?"

Joel hums deep in thought, his eyes scanning your facial features as he thinks about what you'd look like if you got down on your knees and begged for mercy. "Of course, sweetheart," he gives you another grin of his. "Is it with that little group of friends o' yours?"

He catches the distinct twitch in your brow as you look away from him, lightly pulling yourself away from his close proximity but stopping once he tightens his hands on your hips, a silent command of I'm not done with you. He can sense that you're not telling him something, and that makes the grin on his face slowly fade into a frown.

"What ain't you tellin' me, girl?" He asks, his voice low and warning. When you answer his question in a small voice that makes it hard to hear and when you don't bother looking at him when you say it, he grabs your face and lifts your head, doing it a little rough than intended. "Look at me when you're talkin' to me and use your big girl voice when you do it."

A small squeak escapes your lips at the bruising hold he has on your jaw. You grabbed at his forearm with both hands, desperately trying to pull his hand away. His eyes darken and he scowls at the tears in your eyes. Snatching his hand away, he shuts his eyes tightly and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he sighs deeply and opens his eyes again, tutting quietly as he wipes your fallen tears. "Daddy just gets frustrated when you keep things from him. You see what happens when you do silly things like that? Hm?" He coaxes a shaky nod from you. "I know you're not smarter than most girls, babydoll, but that's why Daddy's here to teach you, okay? Whaddya say?"

"Sorry, Daddy," you whisper and bury your face in his sturdy chest, sniffling softly and wiping away your tears, wincing when the pressure applied to your jaw creates an ache. "It... It's not with my friends. Well, it is with a friend. A boy." You whisper the last part.

Joel's hands halt, ceasing their motion across your back. A boy? A friend that's a boy? And the two of you are going to a lake alone? Just the two of you. And he's going to be seeing you in a bikini with your delicate skin all exposed for him to touch?

"And this boy," he spits out the word, slowly peeling himself away from you, arms dropping at his sides as he glances over your shoulder to try and contain the rage waiting to burst. "Is he some kind of..." With a gesture his hand, he continues, "Boyfriend?" He doesn't like the fact that you're going out with a boy, alone. He fucking despises it. The tensing ache in his hand just begging to punch the little shit's face in for feeling like he has big enough balls to ask his sweet girl out.

"No, not at all," you rush to explain. "He's just a friend who asked me out, and I accepted because, why not?" Your attempt at a light-hearted laugh fades quickly under his intense glare. "Daddy? Are... Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?"

Joel folds his arms tightly across his chest, his anger unmistakable. The habitual tick of his jaw betrays his fury. Before he can respond, a knock interrupts. Joel strides over with heavy steps and flings the door open. The sight nearly draws a laugh from him. The boy before him is hardly a man, with gangly arms in a muscle tank, sunglasses perched on his face, and a backwards cap restraining his shoulder-length platinum blonde hair. It's clear to Joel that this kid is trying far too hard.

"Babydoll," he calls out over his shoulder. "Your little friend is here." He extenuates the two words as he stares into the young man's eyes, damn near burning a hole through them. A sadistic part of him loves watching the kid squirm under his gaze. When you stand beside Joel with your little tote bag on your shoulder, you look up at him with a nervous look in your eyes. He looks away and stares down at the short fucker. "I want her home by 6, no later."

With a firm pat to your butt, he ushers you out of the house and slams the door shut behind your back. Exhaling deeply, he mumbles to himself, "Fuck," and gets back to work under the sink.

By the time you arrived home, the clock had struck 9. The night had settled in, and the crickets were serenading. You had anticipated that the one-hour trail walk to the waterfall cave with your friend would mean breaking curfew. After a rushed expression of gratitude for the evening, you exited his car and scurried to your porch, your sandals almost causing a stumble due to your speed. Upon opening the door, the darkness of your home greeted you, save for the solitary light of the living room lamp. The shadows cast throughout the house intensified the anxiety within you.

"You're late," a husky voice calls out from the dimly lit living room, making you jump and gasp in fright at the sound of Joel. Sheepishly, you move further inside, pausing just before the open doorway of the living room.

There he sits, gripping a bottle of fine whiskey by the neck in one hand. He's settled in the middle of the couch, legs comfortably apart. His free arm is draped over the top of the couch's backrest. After taking another sip of whiskey, he turns to look at you. Your hair sports a charming wave, likely from the water and sun. You gaze back at him, your eyes wide with concern and a subtle pout on your lips.

"I know… I know I was late, Daddy, but…" His head shake cuts you off mid-sentence.

"So, how was your little date with the kid, hm? He slip you the tongue? He cop a feel?" Joel sends you a grin that was unmistakably fake and shifts his hips to spread his thighs wider, one knee bobbing up and down in an act of annoyance.

Coming into the living room, you carefully laid your bag down and stood in front of him, nervously fiddling with the hem of your knitted top. "He wanted to, but I didn't let him," you tell your stepdad in a quiet voice. Joel hums, deep in thought.

There was a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes at the thought of you rejecting some boy's advances. It pleased him knowing you were still pure, untouched. The predatory hunger that follows him around like a dark cloud above his head has been hard to ignore ever since he took advantage of your unconscious body the night before. He was the first man to have ever used you in such a way and he craved for more. He wanted to defile you, inch by inch.

"Come sit on my lap, sweetheart," he pats his lap, taking another sip of his whiskey before placing the bottle on the ground between his feet that were still covered by his work boots.

Knowing better than to go against his word, you carefully step over to him, being mindful of the bottle on the ground, and taking a seat on his lap with your thighs on either side of his hips. With shaky hands, you place them on his broad shoulders, still feeling the warmth of him through two layers of clothes.

"It's a good thing you said no to that boy, sweetheart. You don't need any other man but me. Ain't that right?" Joel tells you in a low timbered voice, his big hands holding onto your hips and yanking you closer. You gasped and fell against his chest with a small, "Daddy!"

Joel smiles menacingly at you, one hand climbing up your body to comb through your hair as he gets a better look at your face in the dimly lit room. He couldn't lie to himself when he thinks that you're so pretty looking sitting right here on his lap. It was so wrong, so taboo.

"Now that you're back, you can keep me company since you left me here by myself," he says with feigned sorrow, secretly enjoying the worried expression on your face as though you've truly upset him. "But luckily, I've got this for us to celebrate," he adds, bending down to pick up his bottle of whiskey and holding it up between the two of you.

Looking at the bottle and reading the label, you frown and look back at him. "But... it's alcohol. I'm not old enough to drink that!"

Joel's frown deepens, his annoyance now clear for you to see. He understands that it will take some time for you to cease worrying and to simply heed his words without question or hesitation. You are such a naive girl, always striving to do what's right, to be good, and to abide by the rules. But goddamn, if it wasn't fucking annoying.

"I'm gonna say this one last time," Joel speaks sternly, his jaw clenching tight as he glares into your frightened eyes. "I'm in charge of this house. If I tell you to do somethin', I expect you to fuckin' do it. Do I make myself clear, little girl?" He lowers his head to catch your wandering eyes. When you give him a feeble nod, he smiles brightly, pleased with the fact that you're going to be listening to him from now on, or so he hopes.

He hands you the bottle, and you hesitate for a split second before holding it in both hands. Joel leans back in his seat, both arms now resting on either side of him on the backrest. He tilts his head, patiently waiting for you to take the first sip of alcohol that will touch your virgin tongue.

"I'm nervous," you whimper, lifting the bottle to your nose and taking a tentative sniff before wincing from the strong stench as it burns your nostrils.

"Peach," he drawls, "don't you wanna feel more like an adult now that your momma's gone? Hm?" He can see that his careful wording is slowly rotting your mind, so he continues. "You're not a little girl anymore. You're a beautiful, young woman. And your momma's not here to stop you. C'mon, take a sip and see how ya feel. You can do it, sweetheart. Don't you wanna be my big, strong, adult girl?"

As you give him a feeble nod, your eyes drift to the reddish-brown liquid poised to cascade down your throat. Taking a deep breath, you bring the rim to your lips, tilt your head back, and allow a sip of the potent whiskey to enter your mouth. Accidentally swallowing a large gulp, the burn spreads through your esophagus and chest. You double over, hacking and coughing loudly, droplets landing on Joel's flannel as you retch against his shoulder. He chuckles deeply, patting your back, and proudly murmurs, "Attagirl."

Once you recover from the coughing fit, with a burning sensation in your chest and tears in your eyes, the aftertaste makes you cringe. Despite the drink's spiciness, as it settles in your stomach, it imparts an indescribable warmth. As you hand the bottle to Joel, he shakes his head and pushes it back into your chest. "Keep goin'," he tells you.

"I don't think I can handle it. It burns," you say weakly, trying to swallow as your mouth quickly fills with saliva. If you had to choose an alcoholic drink, whiskey would certainly not be it.

"C'mon, babydoll," Joel drawls. "Don't you wanna be like Daddy? Drinking stuff like this will make you get big and strong just like me." He can see the contemplation in your eyes as you listen to him. He suddenly sits up and leans in close to your space, smelling the whiskey on your breath through parted lips. "Don't leave me hangin'."

When you press the rim to your lips once again, Joel takes matters into his own hands and forces the bottle to tip higher in your hand, a thick stream of the brown liquid quickly entering your mouth before you could stop it. One of his hands holds the back of your head as the other clamps over your mouth. You're sputtering through your nose, eyes wide and filled with thick tears as the burning becomes too much to handle. He's staring at you, clearly enjoying your struggle.

"Swallow it, babydoll. C'mon, you can do it. Be a good girl and swallow," he says through gritted teeth, pressing his hand harder against your mouth when you frantically grab at his forearm. He tips your head back to face the ceiling. Then, he sees your throat bobs as you swallow the fiery liquid. When he moves his hands away, you're nearly hacking up at a lung and openly sobbing through heaving breaths. "That's my girl!"

Joel plants a kiss on your warm cheeks and gently runs his hands along your arms, hoping to soothe you. A soft laugh escapes him as you snuggle into his chest, your cries softening to faint hiccups and sniffles. He gives you a moment or two to settle down, letting the alcohol's calming effects take hold.

"I feel funny," you tell him in a sluggish voice as you sit up on his lap, holding your head in both hands as you stare at him through unfocused eyes. Your entire body, from head to toe, feels like it's being basked in the sun. You feel so warm all over, and tingly too. Your thoughts are hazy and jumbled, and you're just barely seeing two of everything.

Joel grins wolfishly upon witnessing your tipsy state. He can see in the way you're swaying on his lap, desperately grabbing onto his awaiting arms when you lean too far left and nearly topple over. He laughs at the dopey grin on your face and the way you look at him with dazed eyes. Seeing you in such an intoxicated state, so easy to manipulate and use, has his dick thickening in his jeans.

When you sloppily grab the bottle again and lean back to take another sip, some of the whiskey slides down your chin and neck. Joel leans over and uses his tongue to clean it up, paying extra attention to your exposed neck. Your entire body shivers at the warm muscle licking over your sensitive neck and his scruff scraping over.

"Daddy... that's... that's in-inappro-ropriate," your words come out slurred and stuttered, eyebrows drawn close as you try to speak clearly without fumbling; you failed miserably.

Joel hushes you softly. "This is what people do when they drink, babydoll. It's a natural thing to do, especially with pretty peaches like you. It's customary," he says in a sickly-sweet voice, his big hands combing through your hair to get you to look at him.

"Real-ly?" You hiccuped and giggled, quickly covering your mouth as the cinnamon-like taste came back. "Even... Even with... stepdaddies?"

"Especially with stepdaddies, babydoll," Joel huskily tells you, his eyes eagerly taking in the way your knitted top slid so far down your shoulders that it exposed your bikini top. He hums low in his throat, using an index finger to hook underneath the tied bow keeping your bikini together. "There are more things we do, if you wanna do 'em."

"Hm... like what?" Your head tilts like a curious puppy, the gleam in your eyes brightening. Joel bites at his bottom lip, leaning back in his seat and using his grip on your hips to pull you with him. You flop into his chest with a giggle before situating yourself more comfortably on his lap.

"Well, have you ever kissed anyone, sweetheart?" He asks you gruffly, his thumb rubbing across your bottom lip lovingly. He knows you haven't. He would know. He knows everything.

There have been many instances where Joel will be walking past your room, your door ajar, and he'll press himself against the wall to eavesdrop on your phone conversations. Your friends would typically be on speakerphone, gossiping and bragging about their sex lives and romance while you have nothing to offer in return. You've never even touched yourself for god's sake. There have been other instances where late at night, Joel would sneak into your room long after you've gone to sleep and just stand there, watching, observing. He'll go as far as to lower the blanket and caress the supple skin of your thighs. The hunger he has is unfathomable.

"No," you answer in a small voice.

"That's a good thing, babydoll," Joel hushes you softly at the sound of your embarrassed whimper. "You see, only I can kiss you. Cause I'm the Daddy, and Daddy knows best, doesn't he?"

As he notices your eyebrows knitting together at his words, he smiles and anticipates your reply. He is aware that discussing this matter with you while you're sober would be challenging. Convincing you to set aside your concerns and trust in his words requires considerable effort.

"But... But it's wrong! It's not right! If-If my mom finds out, she could-"

Your sentence is suddenly cut off when Joel roughly grabs your face and yanks you down, forcing his lips onto yours and swallowing down your squeak of surprise. Dazed and confused, you grab his shoulders and push him away with as much strength as you could muster in your intoxicated state. Joel sits back and licks his lips, savoring the taste of your strawberry ChapStick on his tongue.

Laying a few fingers on your tingling lips, you stare at your stepdad with wide, shocked, and unfocused eyes. There's a unique warmth that nestles deep within your chest, one that whiskey cannot match. It's unexpected, to say the least. Not disgust, but rather a feeling of familiarity and desire washes over you.

"Only I know what's best for you, silly girl. Ain't that right?" His honeyed tone forces a nod out of you as you slip deeper into your whiskey-fused trance. "You're just too dumb to do these things on your own. That's why you need Daddy's help to guide you and make things better."

It all falls into place. From the early days of his relationship with your mom, Joel has been there for you. He taught you how to ride a bike, build a birdhouse from scratch, change a tire, and so much more. Now that you're an adult and still navigating the complexities of the real world, it seems only right to let Joel guide you through more aspects of becoming an adult, even when it comes to things intimate couples do as well.

Through your whiskey-soaked brain, you blearily nod and stare unfocusedly into his hooded eyes. "So... it's okay for me and you to... kiss and stuff?"

"Absolutely, sweet thing," he tells you with a small grin on his eager face, his hands briefly tightening on your hips as he gets closer into your space. "But this is gonna be our little secret, okay? I can't have that little mouth o' yours yappin' to your momma or your friends, or else I'll get into big, big trouble and people will take me away from you. You don't want that happenin', ain't that right?"

"No!" You yelped with eyes wide with fear as you gripped onto the collar of his flannel. "I won't say anything, I swear!" The thought of someone taking Joel away from you or vice versa was enough to instill fear. You had just now started feeling like an adult with his help. Without him, you'd be lost. You don't want to feel lost without his guidance.

Joel nods and glances at your lips. "That's what I thought," he hums lowly, glancing back into your half-lidded eyes and grinning wider at the pure fear in them. He grabs the discarded bottle of whiskey and knocks his head back to take a large gulp. He grunts and winces at the burn, exhaling deeply out of his mouth before bending down to place the bottle back on the ground.

"Do you want Daddy to show you how adults kiss?" His question makes you perk up, an eager bounce in your position, unknowingly moving against his bulge hidden in the tightness of his jeans. He lets out a strained groan and looks down as you do so.

When you desperately nod, Joel licks his lips, swallowing down the last bit of whiskey on his tongue before readying himself. He gently holds your face with his big hands, humming quietly in thought when your lips parted subconsciously. Tilting his head to one side, he quietly instructs you to close your eyes, and you obey like a good girl.

When he kisses you a second time, albeit a little less forcefully, he swallows down the whimper that vibrates against his mouth. He kisses you again, and again, and again. The scent of sunscreen and perfume on your skin was tantalizing. The aroma of whiskey lingered on your breath, gradually blending with the fruity flavor of your ChapStick. Joel had never imagined such a mix could be so alluring.

Pulling away from your lips, he looks down at your body. Your covered pussy was just on top of his clothed cock. He can feel the subtle shift of your hips, just barely grinding.

"Stick out your tongue, babydoll," he gravelly commands, his voice rough and thick with need. You opened your eyes, parted your lips, and slowly stuck your tongue out. "Attagirl."

Then, he sucks your tongue into his mouth, sliding his own beside yours before shutting his eyes and getting lost in the taste. Your mom was never a whiskey drinker, let alone any type of alcohol--not even wine. Tasting the faint aroma of his favorite dark liquor on her daughter's tongue has him groaning huskily against your mouth. You followed his movements sloppily, trying to keep up with his lips and tongue.

His scent was heavenly, infused with notes of cedar and pine, a rich blend that was both earthy and robustly masculine. Everything about Joel screamed I'm a man and I know what I'm doing. Having been so much older than you and far more experienced, it's safe to say that you're in very good hands. The back of your mind was screaming at you to stop, this is so wrong, stop right now. Yet your heart yearned to prove its maturity to him, to demonstrate that you could be as grown-up as he is. You couldn't bear the thought of losing him to someone else. You were determined to fight with every fiber of your being to prevent that from happening.

Pulling away from his lips with a wet noise resonating between your mouths, a thin string of saliva connects from the two. Joel wipes it away with his thumb, his mouth dropping when you pull his thumb into your awaiting mouth. "Fuck," he breathes out. "Just like that."

"Am I doing good?" You asked him with your teeth gently nibbling the pad, sloppily swirling your tongue to suck his thumb deeper into your mouth as saliva slowly slides down his palm.

Joel nods, unable to hide the hardness hidden in his jeans. "You're doin' so good for Daddy, babydoll. He's so proud of you. You're just too stupid to do things on your own, hm? Let alone with an inexperienced boy." His thumb hooks over your bottom set of teeth, coaxing your mouth open. His index and middle finger gently prod at your pink tongue, the warmth and slickness of it, soft like velvet, making him choke back a heaving grunt.

You suck his fingers back into your mouth, humming and nodding dumbly at his words. He can tell that you have no idea what he just said, which makes this even better. Now he knows how easy it is to dumb you down and make you do whatever he wants. Oh, this is going to be fun.

Joel's fingers are ripped out of your mouth. He grabs yourself roughly, squeezing your cheeks to force your lips into a wet pout. "Tongue out," he demands, and you do it. He tilts your head back and leans over above your face. With this position, it forces an arch in your back, further pressing your aching core against his thickness. Then, Joel does the unthinkable.

He purses his lips and spits into your mouth, watching as the dribbled line of saliva lands onto your awaiting tongue. The confused whimper you let out has his mind reeling. He wished he could've recorded this moment; he would've definitely watched it on repeat during the nights where it's just him, his right hand, and a bottle of lube.

"Swallow it," he commands, roughly shaking your head to break you out of your little dazed state. Joel grins wolfishly when your tongue goes back into your mouth to swallow his warm spit. "Attagirl."

He goes right back to kissing you all messy and sloppy. You, on the other hand, couldn't shake the feeling of warmth in your core. It was throbbing and only getting stronger. You tried grinding your hips to see if it would go away, but then a tingly sensation settled deep in the pit of your tummy. Whining with frustration, you pull away from Joel's lips and look down at your crotch.

"Hey, hey, what's goin' on, sweetheart?" He asks you softly, trying to bring your head to look up at him. He notices the furrow in your brow and the frown on your kiss-swollen lips.

"My... My... down there... feesl very warm and-and tingly, and it won't go away!" You angrily explained and huffed as you crossed your arms with a pout. "Why won't it just go away and leave me alone?!"

Joel outwardly laughs at you, making you pout even deeper in embarrassment of being laughed at by him, yet again.

"You silly, silly girl," he chuckles warmly, leaning in close to kiss up and down your neck while tenderly rubbing the exposed skin of your hips under your knit top. "It just means you're likin' what we're doin', babydoll. It means you're feelin' good down there."

Tilting your head from the newfound information, you try to let it register in your head. Is this really what happens when you like kissing? You've never had this feeling before. You've heard stories of what your friends have done to themselves and with other people, but it still confuses you. It was embarrassing, to be quite honest. You hated reaching an age of adulthood where you're still left in the dark about intimate stuff. Joel could see it on your face.

"Hey, look at me." And you do. "Ain't nothin' wrong with that, okay? This allows Daddy to show you how to make it go away, and we're gonna do that tomorrow, so don't worry about that right now." His reassurance was comforting enough to the point where you couldn't refrain from nearly jumping back on him to kiss him again.

Joel kisses, sucks, licks, and bites his way into your mouth. Every reaction he receives, he swallows it down with a swipe of his tongue. He could do this for hours and never get tired. Your mom's lips were thin and often never had rhythm when he would attempt a make-out session with her. But with you, you were a born natural.

And he created that. His innocent girl was going to be turned into his own little plaything, ready to be used and abused. He couldn't wait to have his false promises rot your stupid, desperate little mind.

taglist:

@yesjazzywazzylove-blog @blueberrypancakesworld @heyhihello-4771 @codenamekitten @chamepagnessimo @idioticcatss @takochansugoi @zjasminelouvre3 @natalieispunk @koshkaj-blog @giowritess @beardropascal @pascaltesfaye @callmeafra @nexy00 @josephquinnswhore @baronessvonglitter @peelieblue @paanchusblog @b3bybunny

!! let me know if you wanna be added to the next chapter or removed !!

[cherubfae]

"𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔢𝔡? 𝔫𝔞𝔥 𝔡𝔲𝔡𝔢, 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔡!" {𝔥𝔞𝔷𝔟𝔦𝔫 𝔥𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔩}

tags: nsfw, smut, fallen angel! afab!gn!reader, reader has the ability to become pregnant, pregnancy, starting a family, pet names (doll, sweetheart, sweetling, etc), spit as lube, Adam is his own warning lmao, he gets kinda nasty. Dude definitely has some sort of narcissistic kink.

Lucifer

One clawed hand braced against the wall above the headboard, the other gripping your flesh tightly. He moves you against him, every roll of his hips has him shuddering. Mouth agape and drooling, Lucifer tosses his head back with a wanton pant. The scent of magic fills the air as his wings explode out of his back; red and white feathers glimmer beneath the blood red glow of Hell's evening sky. "Fuck, sweetling. Can never get used to how well you take my cock. Gods above, you were made for me, weren't you?" Nipping at your throat, Lucifer folds himself over you, hiking your thighs over his hips. Gasping at the new position, Lucifer seals your lips in a kiss. He's noisy, audibly whimpering and panting into your mouth-- and you aren't fairing much better. Practically clawing at any exposed skin you can reach. His claws tenderly stroke along your wings, an action that makes you whine and clench around his cock. Groaning, Lucifer's eyes shift to that beautiful blazing red. "Gonna make me a daddy again, sweetheart?" His pace increases, every thrust sending the headboard bashing against the wall. "How about giving me a son this time, baby?"

Vox

With hands pinned beneath one of Vox's above your head, you were entirely at your fiance's mercy. Brutal thrusts rocked your body upwards, molding your core to the shape of his thick cock. Teeth at your throat, Vox's voice is a soothing rumble of static. "You look so fuckin' pretty like this, baby. All stretched out f'me and begging so nicely." Repositioning himself, Vox thrusts upwards with a shudder. He loves having you like this, so cute and pliant for him. Definitely has some form of a corruption kink what with your wings splayed put across the bed. You were a holy being once, and now here you are, in Hell, taking his cock like its the last time you'll ever enjoy one another. It makes him feel powerful, using all of his strength to rock himself inside of you-- and you, oh so willing for every drop of his cum. "Can't wait to give you so many kids, f'it means I get to breed you over n' over."

Adam

"Shit, sweetheart. Don't clench so tight. We've barely started d'ya want me cummin' inside ya that fast?" Sucking in a sharp breath, Adam bows over your naked body, harshly pinning your knees apart. Your wings are pinned beneath your back strain in protest, but you're not trying to hard to escape your position; not when your husband looks this fucking good. Hissing, he rears his hips back until his cockhead barely touches your entrance. Gathering his precum with two fingers, he fucks those same fingers into your hole moaning low at the lewd noises that seep out. "Such a greedy fuckin' hole, yeah? So desperate for some nice thick cock, fuckkkk." Adam spits onto his fingers, stretching you nice and wide. "Can't wait to breed you, babe. Gonna make us parents. You're gonna look even more sexy when you're carrying my kid." He chuckles to himself. Sinking his teeth into the column of your neck, Adam fucks his length into you with one sharp thrust.

a/n: ... Do you think Vox's kids are gonna be like.. iPhones or iPads? A portable DVD and BluRay player? I can't take TV man seriously lmao

|| ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ, ʀᴇᴜꜱᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴇᴅɪᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ɪɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴀʏ! ɪ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴ. ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ ɪꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜱɪᴛᴇ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ɪ ᴘᴏꜱᴛ. ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ʀɪɢʜᴛꜰᴜʟ ᴏᴡɴᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴏʀʏ ʙᴇʟᴏɴɢꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ © ᴄʜᴇʀᴜʙꜰᴀᴇ 2024 ||

[authorhjk1]

How would RV make you have the best climax of your life? But the rules are: they can only ride you to achieve the said climax, and overstimulation is a must, besides that what other tricks can they pull out from their sleeves or rather bodies to make sure they can get the best out of you?

I feel like this might be a hard one.

Asking anon

Irene

Your hands are slowly getting numb. For how long are you tied to this chair now? You don't have a watch. But it must have been an hour or two already. Irene seems determined to make you beg for it and make you her pet.

She started out with something simple as a handjob. Just when you were about to cum, she stopped and just left. She came back, wearing another outfit. Then, she gave you head. Before you were able to cum in her mouth, she left again. By now, she must've changed outfits 20 times already, one hotter than the last.

The one she is wearing now is a beautiful pink dress, exposing her thick thighs. Which are currently working hard to make her bounce on your cock. You feel an already familiar tug as she pulls at the chain that is connected to the collar around your neck.

"You like being mommy's pet? You like it when mommy uses you like a little fuck stick?"

You groan at her words as you feel yourself getting closer once again.

"Just say it. You know the words. Say them and I'll let my pet cum."

You bite back another groan, but your hips betray you. Slightly thrusting upwards, you make Irene's head roll back for a moment. But she quickly has herself under control again. Her greedy eyes look at you as if she is thinking about how to torture you next.

"Please, mommy. Can I please cum?"

You finally break. But you know it won't matter. Even if she lets you cum now, the chance of this happening again tomorrow are high.

"What's the magic word, honey?"

"I'm your pet, mommy. My cum and my cock are yours."

"That's a good boy."

She pats your head, not stopping her movements on your cock.

"Then cum for mommy. And you better not disappoint."

Seulgi

"Oh god, you're so big baby. I just can't take all of you. My pussy is so tight."

Seulgi moans on top of you as she keeps up the pace. You discovered early on in your relationship that Seulgi loves praise. Giving just much as receiving.

"I think I'm gonna cum."

You groan, knowing you can't hold back much longer. Seulgi has been riding you for a while now. Everytime you're about to cum, she stops and just cuddles with you before she starts moving again.

"Are you sure? I just want you to feel so good when you cum."

"Yeah, I think I'm reaching my limit."

You hope Seulgi will show mercy.

"Okay then. I need you to fill my little pussy with that cum of yours."

Seulgi's words only quicken the process. She keeps riding you, making sure you can't pull out. You don't plan on doing anything else anyway.

"I love it so much when it leaks out of me. It always feels so good."

Seulgi moans louder.

"Your whole cock feels so good. Just put a load in me. Please."

She sighs and you finally can't hold back any longer.

Wendy

In theory, this sounded easy. You've done this so often with Wendy that this has become something the two of you do daily. You, fucking Wendy's ass.

The two of you love it. And yet, Wendy decided to make a game out of it. She rides you with your cock in her ass. Whoever cums first, loses.

You know how hard it is for her to control herself, whenever you fuck her ass. But this is different. She is in control. She can decide how fast or hard she rides you.

And right now, she is doing it unbelievably slow. You can barely feel gow she is moving up and down, the ring of her muscled barely sliding along your length.

"Wendy...."

You groan, about to give in.

"What is it?"

Her cheeky grin makes you want to keep it together. But you know it's already a lost cause.

"I give up. Just do it properly, so I can cum."

"You're giving up already?"

"Yes."

You see her thinking about it for a moment, but eventually, Wendy picks up the pace.

You groan, feeling how her ass takes your whole cock. She moves up and down on it, squeezing your dick however she wants.

"Do it then. Cum in my ass."

You close your eyes as you feel your orgasm rushing through you. You shoot your load deep into Wendy's ass.

Joy

"What-"

You groan when Joy rotates her hips on top of you.

"What happened next?"

"He asked if I'm a good little slut. I said yes a couple of times, asking him to use me."

You feel yourself pulsating inside of her. Holding onto Joy's hips, you make her pick up the pace a little.

"And then he put his cock inside my mouth and told me to suck it."

You reach upwards to grop Joy's tits through her dress.

"And the other guy?"

A mischievous grin plays around Joy's lips.

"He kept fucking me, telling me what a tight pussy I have again and again. I think he fell in love with it."

Closing your eyes for a moment, you imagine Joy getting fucked by two guys. One using her mouth, the other her pussy.

"How did you make them cum?"

"First, they both wanted to creampie me. But you know how much I love a good facial. So I just kneeled between the two of them and sucked them off, until they came all over me."

"Fuck."

You groan as you reach the edge of your climax.

"But after seeing my cum covered face, they wanted to go again. In the end, they both came like three times."

You dig your fingers into Joy's hips, about to hold her down so you can cum as well.

"And they fucked me yesterday too. Do you remember our call from that day? They both bent me over the kitchen table and took turns on me."

Finally, you climax, filling Joy's pussy with your cum.

Yeri

It is incredible that you were able to not touch yourself throughout the whole day. Yeri kept sending you this type of pictures on purpose, knowing it'll make you weak.

So far, you've only let her suck your cock once. That was almost a month ago. Your parents almost caught you, when they got home. And since then, Yeri kept walking around in slutty outfits or just in panties and a bra at home.

But now she's finally convinced you to fuck her. But you still know it's wrong. She is your stepsister.

"Yeri, this isn't right."

"What are you talking about?"

She keeps on going, making your eyes roll back. Her tight body is perfect for sex, but you can't enjoy yourself to the fullest.

"We are basically siblings."

"No we are not. Plus, when I ride you, it's technically okay."

"What?"

You can't follow her logic, but Yeri ignores you as she uses your cock to make herself feel good.

"That's totally stupid and-"

"No it's not. I just see you as a better dildo. A toy for me to use. If I'm the active party, we aren't having sex. I'm just playing with myself."

"That makes even less sense."

"Oh, really?"

Yeri doesn't stop riding you, despite your complaints. And you know she won't stop, until you've made her cum.

"Yeri, I-"

But you are the one who can't keep it together for much longer.

"You're gonna cum in your stepsister's pussy? Do it. Use it to dump your cum in it."

"What?"

Her teasing you everyday has build up a huge amount of pressure inside of you, which you finally need to release.

"If you fill me up, I'll let you fuck me when I wear these yoga pants you like so much. Where you can see how much I've worked for my ass."

You groan, just thinking about it. You remember the photo she send you yesterday.

"Fuck, Yeri."

"Do it."

She sighs.

A couple of moments later, the two of you cum together.

[wolviensabes]

A random Wolvie thought~ 18+ under cut. MDNI

Thinking about how Logan would absolutely ravage you. Afab reader. I also love this gif look at this fuckin' grump.

Dude. This man would be so insane between your legs.

Sloppy laps and eager suckling, your poor cunt stands no chance. He loves when you whine and squirm too, that deep chuckle against your wet folds as he feels you bucking to try to relieve some of his licks and his arms wrap around your legs, holding your hips in place and trapping you.

"Oh no, you're not goin' anywhere, princess." he growls, his lips turning into a savage grin, his lips and chin soaked in your juices. "I'm gonna have my fill, and you're gonna be a good girl and sit still for me. S'not like you can go anywhere..." he chuckles and watches how your eyes widen and cheeks darken before he dives back in.

Those delicious, beautiful sounds fill the room, your begging and whining are such a turn on for him. He wraps his lips around your throbbing clit and sucks it until it bruises so good, you are a crying mess. Those big tears streak down your red cheeks as you cry for him in ecstasy for the third, fourth, fifth?? You don't even now anymore. All you know right now is your body is on fire and it feels like the pleasure has consumed you.

It expands to your toes and fingertips, they feel white hot just like your clit and it was such an overwhelming and amazing feeling. His tongue and lips still worked your cunt, he growled against you as he felt your poor pussy cream another orgasm, dripping and soaking the sheets below you.

"Ah, such a messy girl, aren't ya..." he pulled away finally, his breath hot against your core and he laid a sloppy kiss on your clit. Your brow furrowed and your mouth opened as you cried out, nearly cumming again.

He flips you onto your belly swiftly, landing a smack to your ass that makes you yelp and whimper below him. He spreads you open, your embarrassment of being exposed in such a manner made you gasp and whimper loudly. "Look at that...so pretty. Such a pretty thing you have. You want me there don't you? Is this what you need...hm? You need me right....here?" he pokes the spongy tip of his throbbing cock against your silken folds. You cry out and try to push back on him but he pulls himself away from your greedy hole.

"So impatient...what do you say?" he teases, that damn smirk on his face. He knows how to make you a mess and he relishes in it. Those pretty tears still falling down your face as you held back the urge to literally beg him for his cock. You would've began babbling at that point, you were so desperate for him, you could barely register his words.

"P-Please..." you croaked, your body was shaking, god you needed him so fucking bad.

He could tell you were so desperate for him, you were trembling below him and he was feeling quite merciful today. "Shh, alright princess, it's okay," that gruff voice had a smile to it and you didn't even have to look back to see it. His hand reached around and he wiped your cheek before he leaned back. He had the biggest, shit eating grin spread as he rubbed his cock against your hot, throbbing sex. "I've got just what you need. I'll make it all better..."

Anywayyyy ~

That's all bye. <3

*SNIKT*

dividers by @/strangergraphics