#fear and hunger smut

[dadsbongos]

I NEED MORE RAGNVALDR SMUT THIS MAN IS MAKING ME GO CUCKOO

you n me both you n me both you n me both you n me both like!!

warnings - randomly lost the spark for this at the end and you can… tell lol, not proofread, fem body, whiny pathetic big man with big tits >>>>>, unprotected piv but liek cmon… what is the protection in that era youre lucky rag’s washed

845 words

~~~

“You’re very close.”

“You’re more comfortable than the bed.”

Ragnvaldr snorts a laugh, eyes fluttering shut as he grins, hands winding tighter around your waist and squeezing the soft fat, “You’re obsessed with flattering me, elskede.”

“You’re worth the flattery,” you lift your chin and settle it between his collar bones to stare up at the man.

Auburn strands of hair burn like gold in the pouring sunlight, soft sage eyes gooey as they return your gaze. Morning birds sing outside the gaping window, fresh air chilling through the bedroom. Last night, you’d fallen asleep side-by-side only for the man to pull you atop his chest in the dark. Or maybe he did it as the sun first rose, staring at your lax face through bleary eyes; determined not to wake you. 

Wringing both arms under Ragnvaldr’s head, you pull your face closer to his and earnestly giggle at how his cheeks go ruby red. 

“Hm, blushing is a good look for you,” you dance the blade of your nails across his sharp cheekbones, feeling the warmth from his face lick over your fingertips, “So bashful.”

“Bashful,” he scoffs at the mere notion, “I’m the strongest warrior in Oldegaard, I am not bashful.”

“No?”

“No.”

“So, then, if I do this…” you sit up slowly, making a show of petting your palms down his chest and curving your back to push out your chest, perhaps -- just by mere coincidence -- grinding your pelvis into his, “You’ll feel nothing?”

“Nothing,” the tremble in his muscles says otherwise. So does the upward, smitten twitch of his lips. His hands tighten around your waist.

Ragnvaldr is as much a lovestruck fool as he is a warrior, he’s big and simple and so, so tender in your hands. 

“Do you lie to me?” you pout, and though he knows it’s fake Ragnvaldr is tempted to smear it off your face.

He beams up at you, a chuckle rumbling low in his throat, “Of course, I’m lying. Have you seen yourself?”

You shrug coyly and he laughs again. 

“Beautiful,” Ragnvaldr stretches his neck to press his lips to your neck, “So very beautiful.” 

“Now who’s full of flattery?” you tease as hands larger and bolder than your own peel off the gown you’d slept in; Ragnvaldr lifts his hips while you fumble off his trousers.

Warmth lathes up your spine, washing over your skin in time with the softness of Ragnvaldr’s palms. He pulls and squeezes the fat of your hips in appreciation as your slick envelopes his cock. Tossing his head back in a throaty whine, Ragnvaldr bucks his hips up -- settling both feet on the creaky straw and pelts to better thrust into you. Slow and thorough, he curls both arms around your waist and binds you both chest to chest; earnestly moaning at the squish of your bare breasts against him. Leaning his head against yours, Ragnvaldr lovingly molds his lips against your forehead.

“I love you,” he proclaims, “Love,” he whines, high and pitchy and snapping into the back of his throat, “My love, my good love, sweet girl…” he shudders under your hands, pace quickening, “Please, sweet girl, kiss me.”

You should’ve known -- if you weren’t preoccupied with whimpering and wailing his name, you’d probably giggle. Ragnvaldr loves to kiss during sex, no matter how contradictory his wrapping and hugging says otherwise. You have to wiggle up from his sweaty arms to worm your face by his, kissing along his jaw just to tease your lips against the corner of his mouth.

“Please,” the big man huffs pathetically, arms cinching tighter around your body and hips rocking the thin mat below you, “Don’t be cruel to me.”

“Rag’,” you croon, finally giving him the pleasure of your lips locked to his, now mumbling against him, “My precious man, big, big man. You’re so good to me.”

His face flames beneath yours, only growing hotter the longer you speak, “Uh-huh?”

“Yes, yes,” you gasp, his cock driving harder into the spongy spot that makes you weep, “Fuck me harder, Rag’! Rougher, my love, don’t be gentle…”

“Uh-huh…” he nods weakly, and continues nodding against you -- skulls thumping dully in time with his fucking, “Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh…”

Fire rips up the seams of your tangled limbs, scorching up the loose ends of the building knots in both of your guts. Ragnvaldr tears his face back from yours, groaning and crying mixes of your name and gibberish. Gibberish until he finally crackles out,

“Can I- !" he's broken by a shiver and moan, "Can I cum inside, elskede?”

He wriggles one arm off you and in between your bodies to flick wetly around your clit. You burrow your face into the bend of his shoulder, biting the meat of his neck to muffle your swelling moans. You snag your nails into his broad chest, his soft hair tangling under your fingers, spurring you for an eager reply.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you chant dumbly, decisively numb to everything except Ragnvaldr and the ecstasy he brings.

BOOM bomb explodes you DIE!!!

[kentosbento]

Pavel Yudin

Mentions of prostitution. AFAB. Smut 18+

He is oddly familiar. 

A prim and proper uniform; the only mess being the flat tresses of his hair that tangle from what seems to be a constant tousling done by the man himself. There’s also a creasing between his brows like he’s thinking, or maybe reflecting, arms and legs crossed with a stern poise. His whole look can cut through you; especially the shine of a metal eagle that is glued to the head of his lieutenant’s hat– a straight-out-of-the-handbook Bremen officer. 

A Bremen pig. 

You had found your seat first on the train, and he had made his appearance quite loud and clear with the sharp stomping of his boots against the wood of the floor. There was one other face that you had seen from him, which was the flirtatious smirk that he had given you upon choosing his seat across from you. 

Handsome, yet horrifyingly so, evident in the scars and muscles that he seemed to wear with pride, alongside his medals and pristine Lugr. 

“A sight for sore eyes.” was all he had said before looking you up and down, as if undressing you with eyes, and then flitting his attention to the scenery outside of the window, almost as if you were never there in the first place. 

It is the second time that you meet him, where you witness his more grimy flirtations, climbing out of the bunker with Abella. 

“The pretty girl from the train,” he smiles at you, “and the mechanic I see...both are welcome tastes for my palette.”

Abella had tried to intimidate him, but the mention of his ‘itchy trigger finger’ had quieted her down. 

“As for you pretty girl, what a sweet thing, found the key huh…such a good girl for me.” 

You breathe in when you hear him say that, gripping at the hem of your skirt. 

‘Amusing’, he thinks. “Lieutenant Pav, at your service. Remember that name well.” 

He was alluring; a loud distraction to the horrors of Prehevil, well until he opened his mouth to threaten you. 

It isn’t until the second day of the festival at the town’s shopping district, where you meet him again. Both of you are more roughened up since the last meeting–you had lost Abella, and had encountered Karin who spat at the ground when hearing you mention Pav. He, on the other hand, had a few smaller and fresher cuts, with the occasional bandage here and there. 

“Truly miraculous that we see each other again isn’t it doll? I honestly thought you’d have been long dead by now.” 

You finally decide to say your first words to him; “And I thought you’d have found the Kaiser by now, colour us both surprised.” 

The safety flicks off his gun, a shot rings out but it never reaches you. 

“Now how do you know about that?” he snarls. 

Wild and erratic laughter fills the streets.

Pav grabs hold of you and pulls you both into what looks like a speakeasy, gun pointed at the foggy surroundings until the doors close and lock. 

He flings you into a sofa, and he takes a gander at the drinks at the bar, picking out a scotch and pouring himself a glass, making himself at home. He reloads his gun. 

“Answer my question, or I'll put a bullet in your head.” 

You try to keep still and emotionless, putting your fear into gripping the armrests of your seat. “The beggar. For a shilling she told me of a green soldier headed for a goal with the Kaiser– didn’t know she was telling the truth till you pulled the gun out fucker.” 

“Foul mouthed wench, you’re lucky you interest me.” 

“Thank you for your mercy.” You spit back. 

He chuckles then takes another swig of scotch, leaning closer and closer to you. 

“You’re familiar to me…I never forget a face, but I’m having trouble with yours.” he says, grabbing at your chin and inspecting. 

Then it clicks in his head. 

A prostitute from his time in Rondon. A soldier had made an unsavoury advance and he had shot the fuckers hand off. 

What a small world. 

“Far from home aren’t we?” he smiles, but you say nothing in return. 

Another swig, “I want to kill the Kaiser.” 

“And how on earth do you plan to do that?” you prod. 

“Sheer will and determination doll. If I kill him, I’ll avenge my family. If I don’t, I join them. Either option is fine, but if the chance to kill that thing is there…well I’ll sure as hell take it,” Another swig, “and what might you be doing here in Prehevil?” 

Your hands clasp together in your lap, and the candles waver slightly.

“Running away.” 

“No one bought you out yet? Shockingly cruel of them.” 

“But it’s exactly that! I am still a thing you can buy!” you scream, rising from your seat and heaving slightly. 

Another swig. “Well can I not pay for your company then?” His hands brushing against yours. 

“If you don’t pay, then I get to do whatever the hell I want.” 

-

Underneath the tiles of the speakeasy were the heavy breathing and hurried kisses between you and him. He kissed with such fervour; like you were a lifeline he had to hold onto, while his hands travelled to unbutton your shirt and grip at your sides. Your hands did the same, feeling up and down the grooves of his chest and abs, teasing at the building bulge in his pants. 

“Will you…hah…put less effort in… if I don’t pay you?”

You silence him with another passionate kiss. “Mmm…Whatever the hell I want…hah… remember?

Finally unbuckling his belt and tossing it aside, your fingers deftly move up and down the thick vein on his shaft–teasing, which makes him let out a moan against your neck, “S-so fucking good."

Your hand begins to fasten its pace against his whole cock now, all while the two of you continue to feel up against each other. 

“S-shit s-stop…please…” he groans, pushing away your hand. 

“W-what’s wrong? Am I not doing good?” 

“No! Gods no…but if you kept at it I definitely would’ve cum. The only place I wanna do that is on this though…” softly running his fingers across your navel. 

“Then do it.” you challenge. 

He wastes no time in spreading you wide– “fuck, already so wet for me…so perfect…”, pushing his long and thick fingers into your pussy, prodding at indescribable pleasure. 

He takes his fingers out which make you whine, however they are replaced with a sharp thrust of his hips, pressed impossibly deep into your own. 

“So fucking tight…beautiful…so good for me.” he groans, setting an animalistic pace, as though he were marking you. His touches were rough and harsh, but it was passionate and feisty which made you reach your climax faster and faster. 

“P-pav…I’m gonna cum…!” 

“F-fuck baby, do it…do it on my cock please…” 

After that, you release with a loud moan, back arching off of the bed. He follows suit, pulling out and cumming on your stomach.

He holds you close, and lays by your side, playing with your hair. 

For now, you and Pav can pretend like the world only exists within the confines of PRVHL Bop, and that everything you two needed was the space shared between the two of you. There was no Kaiser and there was no Termina.

-

First fear and hunger fic! love pav sexy sexy man.

[lefarte]

Uhhmmmm O'saa and Marcoh size kink please? If you cant do both of them, just O'saa is enough. I love you writing💙💙💙

Sure! This one is only Osaa but I got another request very similar for marcoh, so I decided to do them individually.

I wrote this with an afab reader I’m so sorry if that’s not what you wanted 💔💔

18+ ONLY!!! Please don’t read if you’re under 18 ☹️

O’saa

Your fingers were interlaced together, beginning to sweat already. His other hand held your hip steady. O’saa pressed his tip against your entrance, gently rubbing his precum into you.

“You’re a bit inexperienced,” He tilted his head. “I see.”

He pressed a little deeper, making a low grunt as his head slipped in. You could feel his warm chest pressed up against yours. Could feel the heat radiating up from your thighs as your body tried to hold out from under him. You squirmed and bucked against him, the wait becoming nearly unbearable.

“Tsk,” He clicked his tongue. “No need to rush.”

He leaned down to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours firmly. The heavy scent of sandalwood and incense overtook you. He held you close in an embrace while you to tried to rut against him as much as you could take with your little hips.

He released his lips from yours. “You must need a little help.”

“It won’t fit.” You panted.

“It will.” He held your hand. “Slowly, now… I can teach you, but you must listen carefully…”

Osaa watched in fascination as your smaller frame bent to his shape, your lips parting and your chest rising and falling quickly. He levered your hips down further, stretching yourself more and more to the halfway point. He groaned.

“You’re… very tight…” he closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation. “Relax… I won’t hurt you… you can relax…”

The pressure bearing down on your walls was so heavy that your body nearly trembled from the first thrust. You could hardly process your own moans and squeals from the deep overstimulation.

“See, it’s as I told you.” He slowly pressed you into him, watching with amusement as you squirmed. “If you had just listened in the first place…”

Your hips twitched on their own. “Keep going… faster… I need it faster…”

He rolled his eyes. “Did I not tell you to relax? You are too tight.”

Seeing you wriggling and fucking yourself on him, he huffed in amusement, taking a little pity on you. He propped your legs up over his shoulders, pressed his cock in to get a firm grip, and thrusted. You cried out, pleasure hitting you in shockwaves. Every thrust made a wet sound.

“Not yet,” He grunted.

He slammed hard into you. You felt like your body was splitting in half from the size of it, pressing as deep as physically possible. He was balls deep inside of you. You were sure that if you looked down, you could see it bulging from the outside of you. You couldn’t even process what you were doing with your body anymore, it was all animal instinct. Squirming and clawing the sheets and gripping at whatever you could find stability on. You might have been drooling.

“I can’t take it,” You gasped. “I’m gonna -“

You nearly choked as your back arched, your moans getting louder without meaning to.

Just as heat overtook your face, you felt a sudden emptiness. A lack of fullness, leaving you stretched and sensitive.

Dazed, you tried to pull him back.

“Ah, you’re not getting it…” O’saa hummed. “I said not yet…”

He spread your lips to admire the inside of you. You needily tried to hump his hand, but he moved away deftly. Only barely touching it to tease you.

“I guess we’ll have to start over, from the beginning.” He put a finger inside, playing with you. “This time, try to do as you’re told. I intend to take my time.”

[jet-set-go-go]

LOOKING FOR BETA READERS FOR A FEAR AND HUNGER ENKIVALDR FIC!!!!! More info below cut

Ok so, i’m writing a smutty stupid enkivaldr fic, i’m making them both as weird and odd as possible. The basic plot goes as follows:

Ragnvaldr has devoured a dark priest, leading to the possible loss of a few soul stones and talismans. Enki, of course, absolutely blows up and screams at him in typical Enki fashion. He calls him a stupid Oldergårdian, and that makes Ragnvaldr snap and try to beat the shit out of him.

The crow mauler (or maybe another enemy, i’ll figure it out then) gets to them because of all the noise, and they’re forced to barricade themselves in a random room. They fight more, at some point Ragnvaldr bites Enki and the pathetic little stick man whines, and stabs him. This goes on for a bit and oh shit they’re making out, blood licking stabbing blah blah blah. First its really messy and angry, but the only reason Enki cums is because Ragnavaldr says some cornball shit like “you look so beautiful like this” like he wasnt cursing his bloodline five minutes ago. Fic ends with them agreeing to never speak of this again.

So far i’m almost at 1k words, but thats barely the start of the fic. If interested please reblog or comment! I’ll send you the link to the doc

[mara-xx217]

Patreon Post!

I write for different fandoms and mediums, including film, video games, TV series and my own original content!

The genres I typically write for are erotica and horror in nature. Thriller, mystery, from slow build ups to quick and explosive action or just simple, cute things or even totally mundane.

Some fandoms I've written for include:

Mouthwashing

Halloween

Silent Hill Games

Resident Evil Series

Baldur's Gate

Dead by Daylight

Fear & Hunger

...and there are many others that I either have written for in the past or will gladly write for in the future!

[gwaruuu]

hi tumblerians happy late new years, i hope yall had a great 2024- and if not, 2025 will be better :P i will try and get back to making layouts for profiles.. do ya'll got any suggestions like from fandoms, games, animes, idgaf ill rlly do anything as long as it's respectful and not some cancelled ass fandom.. please write ideas.. will be tons of help ty

[arlekinos-ink]

MASTERLIST

Those with a ♥️ next to them are NSFW!!

SANS

None yet!

LINK

Link with a neurodivergent!reader (HCs)

V

V and petnames (HCs)

V x fem!masked vigilante!reader

SAL

None yet!

SLASHERS

None yet!

FUNGER

None yet!

VIKTOR

None yet!

JAYCE

None yet!

EMCEE

None yet!

[ittorule34]

i also want muffins

I’ll drop some in your enclosure tomorrow

[bittersyllabub]

Hi , I’m bitter!

And I wrote a Levi x Marina Fic .

Come and flame me for it if you think it’s in poor taste . ;)

(hahhah, I kid. Have a wonderful day folks)

<a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/47233504"><strong>It's been a long day, witchcraft is the answer.</strong></a> (13479 words) by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittersyllabub"><strong>Bittersyllabub</strong></a><br />Chapters: 1/1<br />Fandom: <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Fear%20*a*%20Hunger%20(Video%20Games)">Fear &amp; Hunger (Video Games)</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/tags/Fear%20*a*%20Hunger%202:%20Termina%20(Video%20Game)">Fear &amp; Hunger 2: Termina (Video Game)</a><br />Rating: Explicit<br />Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence<br />Relationships: Levi | Ex-Soldier/Marina | Occultist<br />Characters: Levi | Ex-Soldier, Marina | Occultist<br />Additional Tags: Blood, cum, knife, Masturbation, Trauma, Cute feelings, no beta we ride or die, i should sleep, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping<br />Summary: <p>It's been a long day, witchcraft is the answer.<br />OR<br />me obsessing and writing up one of the scenarios in which Levi gets a buff from Marina's engraving skill after reminiscing what terrible day its been.</p><p>this fic started out a lot of different ways, so i feel it meanders I parts, hmmm I guess the second half is where it picks up.<br />the second half towards the end has the smut :)</p><p>Please feel free to submit tags I should tag or edit.</p><p> </p><p>Enjoy~ ohohohohoh</p>

[dadsbongos]

pleasure for the moon god

382 words / warnings - you have vagene

summary - you and your lover, Ragnvaldr, engage in the ultimate act of mutual pleasure: jerking each other off.

kinktober: day sixteen - mutual masturbation ~~~

Ragnvaldr has you perched on his lap, one hand cinched tight around the fat of your thigh and the other wetly clicking into your cunt. His mouth is open with no room for sweltering teases between moans of his own -- your hand twisting over his thick erection. 

Long, silky strands of auburn hair cling to his sweat-slicked face. Cheeks flaming red and thick lashes batting up at you so pathetically.

“More, mannejente, I need more of you, my love,” he croons.

Sloppily slanting your mewling mouth over his, you let your tongue drip into his gums and he sucks it up like a man parched. 

Grinding down onto the plump meat of his palm, you squeak at the sudden callous graining your clit. As a reward you slump back to spit onto Ragnvaldr’s tip just to get things messier, exactly how he likes.

Ragnvaldr loves the wetness, the clinging webs mixing with sweat and the reddening, violet drags of evidence from clawing nails. He loves digging teeth into the side of your neck and down your shoulder, and he loves when you do the same -he loves showing off in the village, manners and proprieties be damned.

Beneath the cool moonlight pouring through shuttered windows, Ragnvaldr can’t help but to stare openly despite returning to your kiss. His eyes are low enough to be disarming, though the obsessive watching cannot be totally ignored. He’s usually desperately sentimental, though, so you can’t even pretend to be surprised.

He wriggles back enough to worm a second finger inside you before curling them toward your stomach with fervor. You sigh and moan, wetting his lips with saliva -he’s completely obsessed- and speed your strokes along his cock. The slit fucking weeps over your fingers and his hips jerk up into your palm, stomach muscles flexing and tensing with euphoria.

Untempered and unreasonably beautiful, Ragnvaldr is over eager to sing and give and howl and he is utterly unashamed begging for more.

“Oh, my love, my love,” he pants, “You’re so warm and soft,” fingers crook in and out, slipping easier than a fiery blade through fresh butter, “And wet, tight- oh I adore you, mannejente.”

Moonlight praises his exhibition with more soft light. An ivory cradle. You can’t help but agree he’s deserving- absolutely gorgeous.

[lefarte]

para cusando mis headcannons de pocketcat??🤭

hi so I saw you and I’m back and I wrote you a fic 😈

Also please heed the warnings on this one guys, its pocketcat so…. he’s like that

WARNINGS: stalking, pocketcat straight up jerking it but it’s not really smut he just does that*, he also licks you so keep that in mind

*No minors please regardless!

From your days in childhood, you remembered stories of him.

There were several retelling of the story; all with the same vague ideas. The pocketcat was about 7 feet tall, in some variations up to 10. He wore a smiling mask, sometimes of wood, sometimes of rubber. Everyone had a friend-of-a-friend who met him, supposedly, but nobody meets him themselves. People who do meet him don’t come back to talk about it.

They didn’t scare you at all. As a child, you used to feel so invulnerable. Even if something frightened you like an odd shadow in the corner of your eye, or a twig snapping in the woods, you could run home and hide in your bed. It was nothing but a passing thought back then.

Now, you were bleeding out on the floor. Your body ached dully.

You heard the sounds of heels on the tile, approaching your head. They near, and then stop. Then, something strange overtook you. Dizziness. A foggy haze, perhaps caused by dehydration or hunger or pain… and then a deep, low rumbling purr ringing in your ears. You couldn’t hear anything else from any side, it felt as if it was coming from inside your own skull.

“Hello again, my friend.~”

The masked man leaned over you. Behind the purring, you heard a wet, rhythmic noise against your ear.

“You don’t know how much of a pleasure it is to see you here. And here I thought you’d stop by and greet me; but you walked right by me, quite rudely! But you know me, I am a worrier, so I had thought ‘wouldn’t it be my luck that some schmuck come by and get them first’, and then look what happened!”

He kneeled onto the floor, peering down at you. The closer he got, the more it felt that your head was filled with cotton, and the low grumble within your ears was making your body heavier and heavier.

He reached out with a gloved hand. His hand almost seemed to tremble with anticipation. You felt him grab your chin. His hands were cold. He held you for a long, quiet moment, before tilting your head to the right. He stroked your jaw with one finger, admiring the curves of your face. And then the other side.

“I’ve missed you dearly,” You felt him panting heavily against your face. “Very dearly. These days have been so long without you… unbearably so…”

You reached out to grab his hand, and move it off of your face. “I’ve never met you before in my life.”

Your body jolted as a deep pain seared through your side. You bit your lip hard to hush your voice.

“Oh, oh, don’t agitate your wounds, dear, you break my heart! What a cruel fate this is! To have finally found you, and yet be unable to help you…”

Completely ignoring you, his hand went to touch your hair, gently petting you as if you were a doll. He ran his fingers through each strand, admiring them in utter fascination.

“I said,” you scowled. “I don’t know you.”

He lovingly caressed your scalp, his purrs dulling your senses and easing the pain a bit.

His fingers softly trailed down your temple and behind your ears, pushing your hair out of your face. “You are so stubborn. That’s what I love about you, you little imp. I can see right through you, you know?”

You bit your tongue to try to preserve your energy. You could feel the blood pooling onto the tile under you and then getting cold and clinging to your shirt. You’re far beyond the point of running away now. You don’t think you could even crawl.

“How tempted I am…” He cocked his head right next to your ear and whispered. “To pick you up and drag you away…”

You froze as you felt something wet on your face. His tongue. He dragged his tongue across your cheek. It was icy cold.

He paused his stroking, as if in deep contemplation. He sounded disappointed. “And yet, my master forbids me.”

You suddenly released a breath you had been holding, erupting into violent coughs and sputters, every single one of which burned like fire. He shushed you and petted your hair affectionately.

“And yet, it’s no good at all for you to die like this… what am I to do? Tell me, what is an old cat like me to do? What a dire situation…”

His hand ran down to your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “I know it hurts, my dear~ I’m not allowed to fix you, no… but how would it sound if I, perhaps, accidentally ran my mouth to somebody who can? Say, if another contestant finds you, what happens here won’t be considered meddling at all~”

“You’re going to send someone to find me?” Your eyes widened hopefully.

“Don’t I deserve a bit of praise for that one? It was smart, wasn’t it? Good enough for you to…. Pet my head or something, and call me a good cat….”

“Just go!” You wheezed.

“A joke, of course, it was just a joke! You are such a tease, dear…”

He gracefully stood up, stretching on his legs like a real cat would up to a dizzyingly tall height. He grinned down at you one last time before shifting on his legs. Your breath lurched. You realized what the constant wet sound in your ear had been.

“Farewell for now, my darling~.”

You touched your ear. Thankfully, it was dry.

“Take care of yourself. Perhaps, if we’re lucky, my master will allow me to come for you after the festival. Ooh, isn’t that a nice thought…. If not, I’ll have to sate myself with just watching again~.”

[bibyassociation]

Wedding Bells on the Dungeon Floor

Nsfw funger fic posting, remain respectful and don’t interact if you’re underage. Thank you.

(Repost)

Wedding Bells on the Dungeon Floor (Formerly known as D’arce’s Spear) is a fic I wrote based on a joke. It’s not a joke anymore. It’s a smut collection of oneshots surrounding marriage of the flesh.

Each chapter has its own pair and situation leading up to forming a marriage and it had been quite fun to write. Each chapter is around 1-2k words and all sex acts are fully consensual. Bit scuffed, bit of a fuck-or-die, but I tried to make each chapter fit with the characters involved and still remain hot and disgusting all rolled into one.

This fic and researching it has caused me to settle that I like men.

“ Their minds seemed to melt away like their bodies through the act.

Their affinity with the Sylvian has grown stronger. ”

[mara-xx217]

Ending H (Fear & Hunger) Ch. 9- Just a Little Comfort

You've only known them for a few hours, maybe less, but they are probably the most genuine person that you've ever met... You wouldn't mind sharing a moment of comfort with them... You certainly need it...

Warnings:  Strangers to Lovers, Porn w/o Plot, Nosramus is Polite, Potions as Lube, Fingering, Oral, Needy Sex

You shifted in place, slightly embarrassed from the proposition that was offered to you but not at all offended or turned off by it. The person that sat opposite of you, Nosramus, gave you a soft smile that warmed you to the core. You fiddled with your gloves as you cleared your throat, nervously breaking the intense eye contact that they have held with you since the moment the two of you first met only hours earlier in the abandoned mines. 

“I… hehehe…” You almost couldn’t believe it to be true. The silvered haired stranger giggled a little too, placing the back of their pale wrist to their lips. Nosramus’s long, thin fingers curled as they smiled again. 

“Perhaps I was a bit too direct with such a request? Forgive me, I have been alone for quite some time… It appears that my manners are little to be desired-” You shook your head with more vigor than you intended but it was already far too late to hide your eagerness. 

“N-No… No, that’s not true… I am… flattered.” You scooted a little closer to them. 

A part of you was greatly nervous. Genuinely, you didn’t believe this Nosramus to be ill intended. You couldn’t help but to stay a little guarded, both for survival's sake and so you wouldn’t utterly embarrass yourself in front of them. They shifted so that their sides were flushed against yours. Their body was somehow soft and boney, thin but not emaciated… though it was difficult to tell from underneath those thick robes.

“Hmm… I never thought myself adept with flattery…” Nosramus tilted their head down as they looked at you. Their long, white hair was soft and smelled clean, with a slight undertone herbal spice that tickled your nose. You bit the inside of your cheek as their clear, grey eyes wandered across the features of your face. 

“I believe I excel more with truth speaking. And you are lovely and someone I would rather enjoy sharing myself with.”

Oh. 

You were already charmed before, but now you were utterly smitten. Perhaps under more normal circumstances, things wouldn’t have progressed as they had. You wouldn’t have been so at ease, so willing and excited… But down here in this terrible place, you were in desperate need of relief and comfort… and if another person that showed you kindness in this place wanted that same kind of comfort and relief… Well, you wouldn’t mind sharing a moment of weakness with them. 

The kiss was a chaste one but one that was full of passionate need. Their lips were softer than you anticipated, far softer than your own chapped and scabbed ones, but it didn’t dissuade Nosramus in the slightest. A large but thin hand was placed onto your thigh as another gently slid its way over your temple and to the back of your head. The skin of their hands was rough from several lifetimes of work and calloused, but still dexterous and gentle. Nosramus pulls away from the kiss but kneads both the back of your head and your thigh as you contemplate on chasing their lips for another kiss.

Nosramus carefully untangles their fingers from the back of your head. You instantly missed the contact, but were satisfied when they placed a gentle peck to your partially parted lips. 

“I would like-” You cut them off with a kiss. Rather than be taken aback, Nosramus giggles softly and kisses you back, although briefly, before pulling away once more.

“-to grab something that would make things more pleasant for you.” Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you nod, somewhat surprised that they cared for such a thing but overall pleased that it seemed that you were justified in placing trust in this person that you hardly knew to fuck you with at least some dignity and grace. “How thoughtful…” You removed your gloves and tossed them aside as Nosramus reached for a vial that contained a sort of bluish-grey liquid. Oh, that- Your heart slammed against your ribcage. They would use something so expensive on you? Foreplay has hardly started and you already feel like you are about to explode. They smiled and laughed softly to themself. You felt your face and your loins heat up and you had to look away from them. 

It was like looking at some divine being, not laughing at you, not with you, but in genuine self joy and contentment…  

“Would you remove your clothing for me?” Nosramus’s hand was on your raised knee. Your legs were still slightly apart from when they were leaning on top of you. Can you really get naked in a place like this, in front of someone you hardly know? 

You were already removing the light armour that you wore and kicking off your shoes. Perhaps your eagerness was foolish and spoke ill of your character, but the alchemist said nothing and seemed pleased with your willingness to participate in this intimate activity. It was somewhat of a relief to be rid of your grime and gore soaked clothing. It was somewhat unnerving to be so vulnerable in front of another in this place, yet it was also arousing, too. Like willingly playing a dangerous game and enjoying the high of adrenaline and uncertainty that coursed through your veins… You never really thought much of yourself, but Nosramus enjoyed what they saw and it was evident on their face and in how their hands immediately began to wander your body. 

“You are lovely, indeed…” Their voice was soft but loud enough so you could hear them clearly as they leaned down to kiss you once more. Again, the kiss was fleeting, but you hardly minded as their lips left a trail from the corner of your mouth down to your neck. 

It was impossible not to cringe away from the contact. Nosramus instantly stopped, pulling away as they searched your face with furrowed brows. You quickly pulled them back down, muttering how you’ll tell them to stop if you didn’t like it. Satisfied with this answer, they leaned back down and placed their grey lips to your heated skin. 

You arched your back and sighed as the overwhelming sensation of fear and uncertainty swiftly morphed into tingling pleasure. Your whole body was sensitive, twitching and jerking as Nosramus’s fingers gently mapped your collarbone, your ribs, your sides, your hips… Their kisses shift further down to your heaving chest. You screw your eyes shut and bite back a moan as they take one of your nipples into their mouth. The warmth of their mouth and the softness of their tongue on your clammy skin was a pleasant contrast that made a throbbing heat pool between your thighs. 

“H-Hmm…~” 

The taste of blood hits your tongue as you rip open a scab on your lower lip. You allow Nosramus to part your legs further, blushing and ultimately covering your face with your forearms as they kiss their way down your abdomen. 

“I hope you can forgive me… I am rather… out of practice in this regard…” As if they need to apologize to you. You would have said as much if the sudden sensation of their wet lips and warm tongue against your sex hadn’t taken you completely off guard. 

“O-Ohh…!” 

For a brief moment, you felt guilty for bucking your hips into the alchemist’s face, but when they hummed softly and grabbed your hips, shouldering your legs over either of their shoulders as they enveloped you fully… S-Shit-! 

Shamefully, you reached climax rather quickly. It built up so suddenly…! You grabbed two handfuls of silver locks and pulled harder than you intended as you were cumming, but Nostramus only groaned softly into you as their tongue worked its wonders… They didn’t pull away when you finished, rather, they took the vial they grabbed earlier and popped it open, coating the fingers on one of their hands before swiftly lining it up with your entrance. 

“A-Ah-? O-Oh… s-shit…” 

It didn’t hurt at all. You were very aroused but your body was still incredibly wound up and unable to relax. You could feel how tight you were but there was absolutely no discomfort as Nosramus slowly thrusted their fingers into you. All the while, they still worked on you with their mouth, licking and sucking on you in just the right way, in all the right places, that another orgasm quickly rose inside of you and was pulled forth from the alchemist’s thin fingers.

Even as you were winded and still shaking from your climax, you knew that it wasn’t fair. You want to make Nosramus feel good too… It was hard to think clearly as they continued to rub that blue liquid all over your nethers, but you managed to grab both their wrist and the front of their robes. 

“I- I… I- I want-” You tug at their clothing once more. Nosramus, mostly obscured by their thick hair, smiled and nodded. 

“Oh, how selfish of me…” They chuckled to themself. 

The silvered haired alchemist pulls away from between your legs, a soft whimper escaping you as you were left empty and still wanting. You waited in anticipation as Nosramus pulled their robe over their head. They were particular in carefully folding the garment and placing it aside before turning back to you.

The candlelight was rather dim but it was as though they held a soft glow in this light. Or perhaps you’ve gone a bit mad… Even completely bare, you struggled to discern their gender. Their shoulders weren’t quite broad but they weren’t a soft slope either. Their chest was soft but not full. Their hips aren't wide yet not narrow… You struggled to take your eyes off of them as you raise to your elbows, toes curling and legs tensing in anticipation. They are so… beautiful… And handsome! You could take them now… But- No, no, you want to give what you have received. 

“H-Hey…” You started as Nosramus moved closer to you. They paused, looking at you as they tilted their head to the side. So much hair… You mindlessly grab a few locks of their hair and rub it between your fingers. 

“Would it be okay if I…” You lick your chapped lips as your eyes trailed down their body, settling on their lap and their partially hidden erection. The corners of Nosramus’s eyes crinkle in aroused amusement as they giggle. 

“Oh! I would love nothing more…” Their voice lowered to a purr as their eyes became hooded. They fluttered their long, white lashes as they traded places with you. 

Nosramus had no reservations about sharing their naked body with you. In a way, you envied how comfortable they were with stretching out before you, spreading their legs apart so that nothing was left to your imagination. And… Oh…? 

Something had caught your eye, but instead of jumping straight to it, you scooted your way between their legs and leaned down to give them a kiss. Your stomach fluttered pleasantly as Nosramus wrapped their delicate arms around your neck. You flicked your tongue out and hummed to yourself as the alchemist parted their lips, deepening the kiss while pressing their thighs against your hips. 

You slip one of your hands down their side, gently grabbing their skin and squeezing it as you make your way to their hips. Nosramus shudders softly as your thumb caresses the skin just above their pubic area. You break the kiss and nearly pause to make sure that they are okay, but swifty resume your movements as they sigh and spread their legs further apart so you have more access to their nethers. 

“Hmm… Your skin is so soft…” The alchemist chuckles breathlessly as you mouth at their neck. You slide your palm towards their erection, curiosity still burning hot in the back of your mind as you feel a soft mound slightly give way before the edge of your pinky finds their length. 

“Mmhmm…~”  Nosramus watches you shift down towards their lap, watching you keenly as your eyes widen slightly in realization. 

“Oh?” So you weren’t wrong then! This is… interesting. 

It gave you pause only because it was so… different to you. The alchemist’s cock was like any other you had seen: a bit on the lengthy side but average in girth, matching the paleness of the rest of their body only instead of being attached to a set of testicles underneath, the underneath base their shaft splits open, into what is very clearly a fairly ordinary looking vagina. Their lips were puffy and mostly closed, but you could see wetness shining in the dim light and in the midst of your fascination, you had grown silent. 

“Strange, isn’t it?” You blink, a knot forming in your stomach as you realize you’ve likely offended them. Nosramus’s tone is gentle and even and their face is as relaxed as it has been since the beginning of your little sexual adventure. Their fingers brush against yours and travel against a part of their length, all the way down to their puffy, pink lips. You almost shook your head, but you paused as they pulled one side of themself open, revealing more of themself to you. 

“A little…” You confess. It felt wrong to lie to the alchemist, especially now, given that you’re seeing a part of them that they likely haven’t shared with many others.

“It’s not unpleasant in any way though. It’s…” You reached out and brushed your fingers against Nosramus’s hand. It was pretty, in a way. It was…-

“Oh, you will make me blush…” Your heart jumps up to your throat as your bed companion’s hand gently pulls you closer to their sexes. Did… you say that outloud? You worried your sore lower lip as your finger traces the swell of their arousal. 

“Would you- Is it okay if I-” Your nethers begin to tingle as Nosramus breathlessly says ‘yes’. 

You had a mind to use the rest of the blue vial they had used on you. You didn’t need to make sure they were okay with it. Their hips shifted in anticipation as you coated your fingers. Excitement was getting the better of them but you liked the change in their demeanor. It was subtle, but their body couldn’t hide how much they craved your touch. As you traced their soft lips, their cock twitched and jumped. Nosramus gasped softly, then sighed, as you brushed your lips against their leaking tip. As you enveloped their head with your lips, you gently pressed your fingers into their warm entrance. 

“A-Ahh…~” 

Your fingers were sucked up to the hilt inside of them. The alchemist’s walls were soft and smooth, tight but willing to flow with the movement of your fingers. It proved to be a little difficult to sync both your mouth and your hand at once but Nosramus didn’t mind. They ran their hands over your arms and shoulders, cradling the back of your head as they tilted their own back with a moan rising to the back of their throat. 

“Oh… Y-Yes…”  

Like you, it didn’t take them long to reach their peak, but it satisfied you deeply to feel their walls clench around your digits and their length to throb and swell in your mouth. The taste of their semen wasn’t as bitter as you expected, nor was it as thick or sticky as anticipated. You swallowed it easily and dragged your lips down their length, sticking your tongue out and lapping at the thin skin that connected their still stiff cock to their wet cunt. 

Nosramus released a noise that went straight to your core. Something akin to a mewl that turned into a wail as they cummed again. They didn’t finish before you were pulled up by your hair and into a toothy kiss. 

You followed Nosramus as they pulled you into their lap. You didn’t hesitate to raise your hips, fumbling as you clumsily lined their cock up to your entrance. Fuck, you needed this…! The blue potion had relaxed your insides completely, allowing you to take the alchemist to the hilt in one smooth and complete motion. 

Ohhh shit-! You’ve never taken a cock like this before…! The skin of their cock was smooth and soft, gliding inside of you with ease. You would have thought yourself a slut in any other circumstance, but this time you were fucking relieved to feel only pleasure and the closeness of another warm body that held you securely in their lap as they rocked you rhythmically. 

You could actually forget about all the terrible things that you saw, even if it was just for a fleeting moment. Maybe you would end up dying in this shitty place, but for now you only had to focus on holding on tight to the alchemist that took pity on you and decided to share one last moment of comfort with you before you faced the dark of the dungeon of Fear & Hunger for the last time. 

Ending H- Just a Little Comfort

@prettycutebunny, @infinitewhore, @kennbb, @slutwithadegree, @dead-bxxxtch-walking, @space-arsonist, @pink-soft-shadow, @sinlessdesire, @hoemine

[faithsmadhouse]

In the pines||Remmick x reader

MDNI+18

Summary—You wake up soaked from a dream you shouldn’t have had—one where Remmick had his fangs in your throat and his cock buried deep inside you. But it wasn’t just a dream. He’s real, watching, waiting… and when he lures you into the woods in the dead of night, there’s no turning back. You’re his. Body, blood, and soul.

SMUT WARNING (18+ only): This is a dark, explicit one-shot featuring Dom!Remmick and a sub!reader. Includes trance/dub-con, voyeurism reference, predator/prey dynamic, biting, bloodplay, venom/aphrodisiac drool, rough sex (doggy style and missionary), overstimulation, chain kink, degradation & praise, multiple orgasms, light breathplay, dirty talk, possessive obsession, and deeply feral energy. Read responsibly.

A/n the was requested by an anon on @ice-man-goes-bwoah

@abriefnirvana @spikeyfearn

The sheets were soaked.

You jolted awake with a strangled gasp, thighs clenched and pulse pounding between your legs. Your skin burned. Your tank top stuck to you with sweat, your panties utterly ruined. The ache in your core throbbed like a bruise.

Dream. You blinked at the ceiling. But it hadn’t felt like a dream.

You could still feel his hands on you.

Remmick.

A laugh, low and cruel, echoed in your skull.

You thought you were safe.

You thought I’d stay away.

You were wrong, darlin’.

Your breath hitched. The air in the room had changed. He was here.

You sat up. The window was open.

Cool wind spilled in from the woods, carrying the scent of moss and smoke and something darker. Your feet hit the floor before your brain caught up. You didn’t grab a coat. You didn’t even put on shoes.

Something in your body needed to find him.

The forest was pitch-black, but you didn’t feel fear. The night air curled around you like fingers, whispering in a voice not quite your own.

You walked deeper. Through brush and root, over moon-drenched patches of stone. The wind spoke.

“Come on, sugar. That’s it. Come find me.”

There was no thought. Only heat, and hunger, and the echo of a dream you were still wet from.

Then he stepped from the shadows.

Remmick.

Tall. He wore a button-up shirt that clung to his broad shoulders, and his suspenders hung down by his waist. His shoes were caked with dirt, and the thin chain necklace swayed around his throat, glinting as he tilted his head. And those eyes—glowing like red hot coals—devoured you.

“Couldn’t stay away,” he drawled, voice deep, lazy, laced with both Southern molasses and something old and Irish, ancient like the woods. “Knew you’d come crawlin’. You’ve been dreamin’ ‘bout me again, haven’t ya, mo grá?”

You swallowed thickly.

“I—”

“Don’t lie. I smelled it. Watched you fuckin’ grind on them sheets like a bitch in heat.”

Your knees buckled. Your thighs trembled.

He was in front of you before you could blink.

“Felt every little whimper through the trees,” he murmured, mouth brushing your ear. “Felt you clenchin’ ‘round nothin’. Cryin’ for me. So I came to see my girl. Thought I’d give you what you needed.”

His hand slid between your thighs. Your panties were soaked through.

“Aw, hell,” he hissed, grin curling sharp. “You are drippin’.”

A growl rumbled in his throat. “Should’a come sooner.”

You gasped as he scooped you up, your back pressed against the nearest tree. Bark scratched your shoulders as his mouth found your neck kissing it and biting marking you.

Once he was satisfied, he yanked back, fingers digging into your cheeks hard enough to bruise. “Open,” he growled.

You obeyed, staring up at him with your mouth wide. Remmick’s lips curled into a wicked grin, a thick string of drool sliding from the corner of his mouth. He leaned in close, breath hot and heavy, and tilted your head back like you were nothing but prey.

Then the venom spilled—slow, deliberate—onto your tongue, thick and burning as it hit your throat. You went limp with a strangled moan. Dazed. Blown open with heat. His saliva slicked your skin, and the world tilted.

“Mm. That’s it. Let go for me, sugar.”

He dropped to his knees and shoved your panties aside with no ceremony.

Then his mouth was on you.

Remmick ate like a starved man, tongue filthy, slow, teasing.

“So goddamn sweet,” he groaned, voice muffled. “Like honey and fuckin’ sin.”

You were writhing, sobbing, grinding helplessly against his face.

One thick finger slid inside you.

Then two.

“Can’t even fuckin’ wait,” he growled, rising to his feet, licking your slick from his lips like a promise. “Need this cunt now.”

He spun you around, bent you over a mossy boulder. You barely caught yourself in time.

“Back arched,” he barked, grabbing your hips. “Ass up. Show me that fuckin’ needy little pussy.”

You whimpered as he shoved his cock against your entrance, teasing.

“Beg.”

“Please, Remmick,” you cried. “Please fuck me—need it—need you—”

SLAP.

A harsh smack to your ass made you jolt.

“Damn right you do.”

And then he was inside.

All the way.

You screamed.

“Fuckin’ tight,” he snarled, rolling his hips. “Grippin’ me like you’re starvin’. You love this, don’t ya?”

You couldn’t speak—only moan, already clenching around him as the first orgasm slammed through you.

“Shit, already?” he barked, feral. “Just like that? Thought I was gonna have to work for it, slut.”

He didn’t slow.

Thrust after brutal thrust, he drove into you like a man possessed. His hand tangled in your hair, yanking your head back as he pounded into your soaked cunt from behind.

“You’re my pretty little fucktoy, huh?” he hissed in your ear. “Let me ruin you, sugar. Let me fuckin’ break you.”

Your legs were shaking. You couldn’t breathe.

Then he pressed two fingers to your clit—and you shattered again, sobbing.

He flipped you over onto your back, caging you in the moss.

His eyes were dark now, chain swinging freely over your face as he hovered above you.

“I love watchin’ you like this,” he purred, voice a slurred mix of drawl and brogue. “All wrecked. All mine.”

The chain hit your cheek as he leaned down to kiss you. You moaned around his tongue, tasting venom.

“Open your legs. Wider.”

You obeyed.

“That’s my girl.”

He slammed into you again, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand.

“Count your fuckin’ orgasms,” he growled.

“I—uh—two—”

“Wrong.” He snapped his hips. You cried out. “Three. That one on my tongue? That counted.”

You nodded frantically.

He grabbed your throat, gentle but firm, his grip pulsing as he rutted into you.

“You’re gonna give me seven,” he snarled. “That pretty little pussy can take it. You were made for me. Made to be fucked like this.”

You were sobbing, begging, drooling.

His chain bounced with each thrust, smacking lightly against your lips, your nose, your flushed cheeks.

And then—

He bit you again.

You came with a scream, body spasming under his weight.

“That’s four, sugar,” he growled, licking your blood from his lips. “Ain’t stoppin’ ‘til you’re gushin’.”

You lost count.

You came until your thighs shook violently, until you were clawing at his back, until your voice was hoarse from screaming his name.

He praised you. He degraded you.

“Such a good slut for me.”

“Dumb little hole, just made for cock.”

“You’re so perfect when you cry.”

“Mine. All mine.”

When he finally came, it was with a deep growl and his fangs buried in your throat. He spilled inside you, marking you, biting hard enough that you saw stars.

You were boneless, trembling, completely ruined.

He stayed on top of you for a while, pressing kisses to your bloodied throat.

“You ain’t ever gonna dream ‘bout no one else now,” he whispered, voice soft and possessive. “I’m in your fuckin’ blood, darlin’.”

You blinked up at him, dazed and wrecked.

He smiled.

“Good girl.”

[elswhore]

── A FARMERS PRECIOUS LITTLE DOLL ۶ৎ

── ⌗ older!ellie x reader

matured content. pure smut with little plot. fingering. degration. choking. slapping. spitting. age gap. forbidden. ellie knows damn well your dad will kill her once he finds out she fucked you.

masterlist ۶ৎ navigation ۶ৎ

The sun hangs low over the rolling fields of your family’s farm, painting the wheat gold and the air thick with the scent of earth and hay.

This town, your town, is small, tight knit, and reverent—everyone knows your father, the man who holds the reins of power, his name whispered with equal parts fear and respect.

You’re his daughter, the untouchable jewel, draped in soft dresses and shielded by his iron grip, at twenty, you’re the town’s darling, but the weight of his protectiveness chokes you, a gilded cage you’ve spent years rattling against.

You hate the way eyes avert when you pass, the way no one dares speak to you without glancing over their shoulder for your father’s shadow.

You’re not fragile, not the doll they think, and the fire in your chest burns for something—someone—to see the real you, the one who’s restless, cunning, alive.

Enter Ellie, the new worker your father hired to mend fences and haul hay,s he’s twenty-five, lean and weathered, with auburn hair tied back in a messy bun, freckles dusting her sharp cheekbones, and green eyes that cut through the haze of your boredom like a blade.

She’s different—doesn’t bow her head, doesn’t stammer when you catch her gaze, her flannel shirts are rolled up to her elbows, exposing corded forearms scarred from a life of hard work, and her boots kick up dust as she moves with a quiet confidence that makes your pulse quicken.

You’ve watched her from the porch, pretending to read, your eyes tracing the way her muscles flex under her shirt, the way she wipes sweat from her brow with a smirk, like she knows you’re looking.

She’s a mistake waiting to happen, and you’re drawn to it, to her, like a moth to a flame, it’s a late afternoon when it happens, the sky bruised with clouds, the air heavy with the promise of rain.

You’re in the barn, ostensibly checking the feed stores, but really, you’re there because you saw ellie head inside, her toolbox clanking.

The barn smells of hay and leather, and the dim light filters through slatted walls, casting stripes across her as she kneels, fixing a broken stall door.

You lean against a post, your dress—a soft, white thing your father loves—clinging to your thighs in the humid air.

"Need help?" you ask, voice teasing, and her head snaps up, those green eyes locking onto you.

"You don’t strike me as the manual labor type" she says, her tone dry but her gaze lingering, sliding down your frame in a way that makes your skin prickle.

You step closer, deliberate, letting your hips sway, knowing exactly what you’re doing. "Maybe I’m full of surprises" you say, and she stands, wiping her hands on her jeans, her smirk dangerous.

"Careful, princess" she warns, but there’s no real caution in it, just heat, you’re close now, close enough to smell the faint pine of her soap, to see the pulse in her neck.

"Or what?" you challenge, and it’s like a match striking her hand grabs your wrist, not hard but firm, pulling you against her.

"You’re trouble" she mutters, but her eyes are on your lips, and you know she’s already lost, the kiss is sudden, bruising, all teeth and hunger, her hands gripping your waist as she backs you against the barn wall, the wood rough against your back.

Your dress rides up, and her calloused fingers find your thighs, hitching them apart as she presses herself between them.

"Fuck, you’re gonna get me in trouble" she says, but she’s not stopping, and neither are you, your hands tangle in her hair, pulling her closer, and she groans into your mouth, the sound vibrating through you.

She’s rough, unpolished, and it’s everything you’ve craved, a rebellion against the pristine cage of your life, her hands are everywhere, tearing at your dress, exposing your skin to the humid air.

"Look at you, all perfect and proper" she says, her voice low, mocking :but you’re just a little sinner, aren’t you?" The words hit like a spark, and you moan, arching into her.

She yanks your underwear down, not bothering to be gentle, and her fingers slide through your wetness, making you gasp.

"So fucking wet already" she says, smirking, and before you can respond, she spits—right onto her fingers, the act so filthy it makes your head spin.

She rubs it into you, slow at first, circling your clit with a precision that has you trembling, your hands clutching her shoulders for balance.

"You like that, huh?" she taunts, and her other hand grabs your jaw, forcing you to meet her gaze "town’s precious girl, begging for my fingers" She pushes one inside you, then two, thick and rough, stretching you open, and you cry out, your hips bucking against her hand.

She’s relentless, curling her fingers, hitting that spot that makes your knees buckle, her thumb still working your clit "look at you" she says, "Bet your daddy’d lose his mind if he saw you like this." The degradation stings, but it’s a good sting, feeding the fire in your chest, and you push back against her fingers, wanting more.

She slaps you—not hard, just enough to make your cheek sting, your eyes watering as you gasp, "greedy little thing" she says, and her hand slides to your throat, squeezing lightly, not enough to hurt but enough to make you feel her control.

Your pulse hammers under her fingers, and she’s watching you, her eyes burning, like she’s memorizing every flush, every shudder.

"Say it" she demands, her fingers slowing inside you, teasing, "say you’re a bad girl." You whimper, "I’m a bad girl" and she grins, wicked, before spitting again this time on your lips, the wet heat shocking you into a moan.

"That’s right" she says, and her fingers speed up, pounding into you, the wet sounds loud in the quiet barn, you’re close, so close, your body shaking, your thighs trembling as you grind against her hand.

Her grip on your throat tightens just a fraction, her thumb brushing your lips, smearing her spit, and it’s filthy, degrading, perfect.

"Come for me, little sinner" she says, and her voice is a growl, her fingers relentless, curling and thrusting, her thumb pressing hard on your clit, you come with a scream, your body convulsing, clenching around her fingers, pleasure crashing through you like a storm.

She doesn’t stop, working you through it, her hand slick with you, her eyes locked on yours as you sob her name, your nails digging into her arms.

She finally slows, her fingers slipping out, and she brings them to her lips, licking them clean with a smirk that makes your stomach flip.

"Taste like trouble" she says, and her hand on your throat softens, stroking your jaw as you pant, still trembling, she pulls you against her, kissing you slow, deep, her tongue tasting of you, and it’s softer now, but the heat’s still there.

"We’re fucked if he finds out" she murmurs, but there’s a grin in her voice, like she’s willing to burn for this, you nod, dazed, your dress still bunched around your waist, your body humming with the aftershocks of her touch.

[dadsbongos]

mean blonde <3s war crimes

2.2k words / warnings - pav is a bad terrible no good person, predator/prey dynamic, noncon, gunplay, coercion, age gap (pav's ~37 and reader is ~20)

summary - your old bootcamp lieutenant, Pavel Yudin, comes to your hometown to give you a second chance at joining the good ole army! By chasing you through the woods.

kinktober: day fourteen - hunting, gunplay ~~~

Grey skies rolled overhead that morning with no clouds. None of the birds were singing, but the crickets were still loud. Children ran circles in their backyards, chasing one another with leafless sticks and shrill screams. Your father sat on the front porch, rocking slowly in his chair as he twiddled his guitar. 

There was no breeze. And you couldn’t smell the sweet dew lingering in the air. 

In short: you should’ve known something was horribly, horribly wrong.

Papa stood straight up when he saw the sleek black car kick dust into the center of town. Guitar clattering and cracking down the porch steps, he rasped out a desperate, “Take yourself inside, now.”

“Huh?” you rose slowly from where you’d been tending Mama’s tomatoes, “Why?”

Neighbors pile out curiously as one car curls to a stop with a second. First to pop open is the initial car’s back door, and you see why your father was so spooked. Golden coils catch pale sunlight, porcelain cheeks flashing your home, and rosy lips pucker up at you from the center of the isolated neighborhood. 

“Hell, kid,” Papa murmurs, shooting you a glance through his peripherals. Partly annoyed, but mostly raw concern.

Red dirt road flakes around the soldier’s boots, his steps echo through the still air. Eyes follow his leisure pace, an overconfident swagger that makes your whole body raze with bumps. 

“I believe you have a runaway,” Lieutenant Yudin’s steely eyes flick from Papa to you.

Even as Papa starts talking, the man’s stare does not drift, “Kid ain’t a deserter, they graduated the program. I’m not sending my baby off to die.”

“Baby’s an adult,” Pavel shrugs, “We’re performing a simple sweep. We’ll have them back by the end of the day.”

Papa shakes his head, hands raising in protest, “No. No, no! You stay back, you devil! Any lieutenant beside you! Who else is in the car?” he demands, “Who else?!”

“Nobody,” Pavel turns his head directly toward you, and you remember the countless uncanny meals in the cadet canteen where that same glass face was watching you eat. He boldly steps onto the stoop before your father, kicking his guitar out of the way, “I’m not leaving empty-handed. Kaiser’s orders.”

Just as your fathers goes to respond, you stumble forward and jam yourself between the men, “I’ll go!” you frown, shoulders tensing as you avoid looking Papa in his disappointed face, “I’ll go, please leave my family be…”

Pavel grins at you and holds out a hand, “Let us go, then.”

Papa makes a strangled sound of protest from the back of his throat, silenced when you shyly tuck yourself down the stairs into Pavel’s chest. Head down and arms twisted around your torso as you’re lead to the shiny black car -- Pavel does not stop by any other houses. Despite knowing your boy next door was probably a better fit, and had graduated from the same camp, Pavel doesn’t so much as glance his house’s way. 

Unease wells within you as he opens the car door for you, then sliding in after. You attempt to wriggling away into the next seat over, only for Pavel to swing an arm around your shoulder and hook your chin with his thumb and forefinger. Angling your vision over his broad chest and out the side window, he strokes your jaw affectionately.

And you can feel his chest vibrate as he speaks in a low murmur, “I was very young when I came to the army.”

His opposite hand comes up, index tapping on the glass as the car comfortably strolls by lush trees; he leaves an off-white smudge behind on the otherwise crystal pane.

“Very, very far away I was conscious for not even a decade before having to become a man. And I work very hard to ensure nobody else must go through that same thing,” where he’d been pointing you make out a fox chasing a chestnut rabbit through thick bushes. You’re surprised neither was scared off, even if the engine was merely at a soft hum with its slow pace, “I’ve been working since I was younger than you, and I’ve been through much more than you.”

You’re certain he has.

Two silvery scars dot his chest. And his eyes are constantly glazed and faraway, even as he speaks directly. He smells sad, like mold and dust. He’s in his late thirties, and he’s been a loyal soldier since he was a boy.

The fox pounces onto the rabbit -snatching the smaller thing in its jaws and rolling with the momentum. Shaking its head violently until blood flecks the dirt road and spring leaves and the rabbit stops twitching.

Laying its kill onto the ground, the fox digs in with bared teeth.

“When I was younger than you, I had soldiers try themselves with me,” his thumb presses a bit harder against your jawbone, then quickly releasing and smoothing over the tender line apologetically, “I’m a very wounded man, as all men like me are. And I’m not a very good man, like most men like me aren’t. Most people that crawl out of Bremen bootcamps do not come out good people.”

Just as you’re wondering where this rant is going, the car rolls to a stop.

Pavel tilts your head so you’re gazing up at him, his eyes are dull as always and his lids hang low -nefarious yet tired- “But you are, you’re very good. Very kind. The world spits in your face and you bare it. You were drafted and you bare it. Your father falls terminally ill and you bare it. You’re harassed and stalked months on end by a superior officer and you bare it. You are so mild, and so bland, I cannot look at you and see a soldier despite your average success in training.”

Popping the door open, Pavel slinks out with an offered hand and you politely take it which only makes him laugh. He squeezes your hand,

“See? I was never so kind to the men that tried themselves with me.”

Finally looking around, you notice a long downward hill before your feet. Trees cluster any free path and overgrown stumps choke out the clotted dirt ground. Untempered grass lays still with the lack of breeze.

“I’m a bad person, and I love pretty things,” Pavel murmurs, “I don’t know why I have this itch to destroy them,” and finally, the proper amount of dread fills you as you really lock eyes with the lieutenant, “I think I’m just angry at them for being able to be pretty and gentle.”

Knees wobbling, you throw yourself down the hill and scream.

Pavel follows with a careful step-by-step.

Whether it be adrenaline or hot fear, you cannot feel any pain as you recklessly swipe branches and bushes out of sight. Searing sweat tickles down the plain of your neck, trickling along your spine and watering dead leaves below. Paranoia assures you his gloved fingertips are just at the wrinkled collar of your shirt.

Regardless of how nature seems to whizz by and the wind flapping rapidly in your ears you know you aren’t running fast enough.

You know your burning legs are too slow and you know he’s going to catch you and he’s going to eat you alive.

You’re too terrified to cast a glance back, certain the second you do you’ll trip over an especially thick root. But you think you can hear his boots crunching into a steady run after you. 

His even breathing slowly overbears your own ragged heaves, only seconding the belief he’s at your heels. 

Screaming again is only met with more gravely cackles.

Nails scrape into your hair. You shriek.

He pounces, launching off his heels and wrapping both arms around your waist in a vice clamp and chomping into the side of your neck. Sucking as he latches, a faint sting swells up the side of your throat. Nothing compared to the lashes and whipping your back takes with each roll down the hill. Grunts and wails echo between nonchalant trees, none of which are helpful as you pointlessly claw against Pavel’s padded shoulders.

Tumbling into a fitful, struggled stop at the base curve of the hill, you try in vain to kick Pavel off of you. Which proves useless as he merely presses one hand into your torso to keep you pinned. His bigger frame shows little sign of stress as he frees his Lugr pistol from his side and digs the frozen metal into your ribs.

A wild twitch sends you bucking up against him. Fear forcing you to throw away logic as you thrash beneath him.

“No, no, nonono, please- I beg! I beg of you, please no don’t- I don’t want to die, I beg of you please!” your hands fly up to Pavel’s face, instinct telling you to scratch out his eyes.

Pavel replaces his hand on your stomach with a knee before snatching both your wrists in his hand and strapping them above your head. Forcing your faces much closer. His nose bumping yours.

“Calm,” he hums, digging the muzzle into your ribs before dragging downward and catching the band of your trousers. Dragging those down as well. Bare flesh sizzles in the open air.

So you chomp onto your lip, taking in the velvety iron and gnawing still to keep quiet.

All while Pavel stiffs his pistol between your legs. 

“Too slow, too slow, bunny,” he presses a startlingly tender kiss to your temple.

Despite your shivering, he manages to wriggle the freezing barrel against the seam of your cunt. Slipping it between your folds longways, twiddling your clit at the same time teasing your hole. A sudden jerky click makes you shudder, gasping into the column of the lieutenant’s throat -- fear paralyzes your hands in the collar of his bridge coat.

Your sole assurance you won’t be shot is the ease with which Pavel wields his pistol, an extension of his own hand. It must be familiar. And if you are shot, it’ll be on purpose.

Digging the muzzle inside you, Pavel releases a pleasured groan when you shriek and seize around the unforgiving metal. Grinding down against your thigh, Pavel seasons your pulse with hot pants -- flicking his wrist until the trigger guard is tight beneath you. Leaking syrup drools over his fingers, gluing his pointer over the trigger. A sick grin smears over his pale lips.

“You like this?”

“No!”

His eyes fall where you’re polishing his pistol, as the barrel drills into you with sultry little splats. Regardless of what your pretty mouth says, he knows your body loves him: that’s all he needs. Hips even dangerously jutting out to meet his tentative thrusts. You mewl beneath your breath at the intrusion, choking it down with a grunt.

Cold, hard metal prods spots deeper inside you than yourself or any town boy has ever reached. You hate how good it feels, but you can’t suppress the tightening of your stomach.

“You like this,” he kisses you again, slipping his tongue into your gritted mouth and licking over your teeth, “I love you. So soft and gentle, you’re perfect for me.”

Slipping the gun from your snatch, he openly laughs in your face at how you cling unto the barrel.

“I take it you don’t plan on returning to the ranks,” he sits upon his knees, scouring the muzzle up your stomach -lifting your shirt- and pushing beneath your jaw. Icing the sharp bone until it's peeking past your lips.

You can taste the sharpness of your own wetness swirling with metal.

“Shame for me,” he sighs wistfully, angling the gun deeper in your mouth. Not bothering to adjust his pants and hide his evident, swelling arousal as your tongue envelopes the muzzle. His spare hand squeezes up your thigh, thumb stretching over to circle your clit, “Probably best for you, though.”

Weak legs cannot snap to kick him off, you fear it’d be a pointless effort anyway.

Pavel leans over you, slipping his gun from your mouth slowly -- an intentional drag to tease himself. Immediately pushing his lips to yours with a starved growl, his brows furrowed desperately and cheeks flaming against yours. Not unlike a fretful boy, he shyly pulls back to lay another peck on your forehead and wipes his mouth with his sleeve. Watching you struggle for air between flustered huffs, he stands fully and retucks his Lugr.

“Let’s get you home,” another hand is offered toward you, broad shoulders pushed back confidently. His strong nose pointed up at you, “I don’t expect we’ll see each other often, Kaiser is plotting East and I’m going to give chase.”

Tears sting your eyes, and you sniffle, shakily reaching up for the blonde and letting him tug you upward. He wrings both arms around you and kisses your forehead eerily sentimental -- familiar like a proper lover.

“I don’t expect to be well received when I do,” he whispers.

Then kisses your lips, hot and chapped and fiercely tight-lipped. 

“I wish I could be free like you,” he muses, “And kind.”

“You’re a monster- !” you shudder and gasp, shoving him by the shoulders -surprisingly, he lets you go until you’re floundering back into a strong tree trunk, “I hope you die out there!”

Pavel nods and turns away. The car door is open by time you’ve struggled up the hill. No birds sing. There is no breeze. You cannot smell the iron and sweat from yourself.

You should’ve known things with Pavel would never get any better.