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screampied · 9 months ago

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✩ㅤ cw. fem! reader, size difference, choking, size kinks, unprotected, dirty talk, praise, full nelson, mdni.

play fighting with suguru which later turns into him having you in a full nelson.

“awww, c’mon. don’t tap out on me now, sweetheart,” he purrs against the soft shell of your ear, hearing you sweetly gasp at the gaping barrage he creates with his thick cock. just a few moments ago—you were on top of him and now you were being stuffed full, legs dangling and weakly being held hostage while a beefy arm of his slings around your throat. your body collapses backward as you’re just idly bouncing on his lap, feeling each of his bulky muscles flex and twitch behind you. “biiiig stretch, fuck there we go. mhm, my baby’s all nice ‘n flexible.” he gruffs, peppering a few sultry kisses near the open curvature of your neck. you moan, feeling the secure grasp of his broad hands move from its original placement, gluing under the cracks of your thighs.

he’s got you in such a risqué position, your body continues to jostle against his, feeling his carved hard abs rub off against your skin. “ngh, suguru,” you squawk, and your hooded eyes peer down at yourself taking him in fully. his base had a pretty sheeny tan, resuming to pump in and out of you, already blissfully bottoming out. you felt him everywhere—and he’s just holding you upright with two burly arms, locking his arms under your plush pretty thighs. “ ‘m gonna cum again, fuck.”

with a husky snicker, he deepens his thrusts against you by moving his hands toward your rickety hips. a cunning simper spreads against his lips before he ghosts a few silvery slick fingers down your sopping wet slit. “well yeah, with a weak pussy like this, bet you are. you poor thing.”

your jaw couldn’t help but loosely hang itself open as he’s just ruthlessly lodged inside of your cunt, creeping a swollen fat thumb near your puffy hood to toy and flick with it some more.

his touch to you was like electricity, and you were very much on the verge of breaking. he was so thick — insanely thick, geto’s pearly poking crownhead mercilessly drags in and out of your pasty walls and you recognize the delicious curve of his dick all too well.

your moans grow even louder, so loud that it’s bouncing against the paper thin walls whilst the sharp slaps of skin create shivers all throughout your body. “fuck, more. put me in a chokehold, sugu.”

“dirty girl,” he grunts, his hefty base starting to slather up with sappy juices from your slick heat. a big brawny arm curls around your neck again and he presses a chaste kiss toward your cheek.

“my, you really shouldn’t say such things, y’know,” and as you’re still taking his cock, you feel his free hand grab near one of your breasts. he gives it a nice squeeze before focusing his attention back towards your neck, hearing your cute exasperated gasps. licking against your ear, he lowly whispers, making you slightly turn your neck to face his feral sly eyes. “i could just snap you in half if i really wanted to. all i gotta do ‘s jus add a little pressure like this ‘n . . my doll’s gonna be all broken and we can’t have that, huh.”

sweet sweet whimpers spill from your lips as his arm still remains wrapped around your throat. he makes sure it’s a safe hold, giving you a few frisky squeezes here and there just to hear you whine for more.

he’s so beefy. through your glossy doe peripherals, you could visibly see his veins pop out through his skin. you felt your pussy throb once you start to imagine all the times he goes to the gym alone, all the times he’s lifting weights.

if anything though, you wanted him to be lifting you instead.

“nothin’ to say? aw, pity,” his gravelly voice lowers, and you’re brought back to harsh reality once his palm swats against your ass. you bite down on your tongue in attempt to suppress your incoming lewd whimper but it still comes out. “fuck, always so warm f’ me, god,” and his grip against your neck loosens. the pits of your tummy tense and coil up as your clammy thighs continue to tweak and spasm from his sharp thrusts. so deep. every few seconds, he’d pull your legs up or drag them further apart just to hear you gasp.

you’re almost marveled by the fact that such an obscene position even exists. your legs could barely stand and if it wasn’t for the help of his hands, you’d be screwed.

“s- sugu—ah!” you whine, feeling his bulbous head ram its way against your convulsing g-spot. he knows that spot like the back of his hand, the cute bumpy texture that never fails to present himself around his angered tip. shaggy long tresses of black hair tickle near the nape of your neck as you fall back. “fuck fuck fuuuck,” you loudly snivel, digging your nails into his meaty thigh. once he hits it, he keeps hitting it until your cute voice strains itself out. he’s still practically got you folded as you’re trying to ride out your euphoric orgasm. the bed devastatingly dips inward from the crushing masses of weight piling on top of it.

“there we go, that’s my sloppy girl,” he coos in a raspy tone. geto’s pitching his voice against your ear as he speaks and oh, his words a mere raunchy whisper. he hears your talkative cunt squelch out, faint strings of syrupy slick forming a little plash around his weighty base. geto holds your hips firmly, showering the crook of your neck with a plethora of balmy kisses as your body ruts and shakes.

“good girl, listen to how nasty you always sound for me,” he hums, sneaking his stubby fingers back down towards your weeping wet cunt, maneuvering a few circles near your drooling slit. “i know, i know,” he talks over your enraptured shrills, and he then gives your pussy a patting spank. you moan, falling back against his sweaty chest and a trail of his curly chest hair titillates against the center of your back. “this is a lot more fun then wrestling, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“y- yeah,” you swallow, and he teasingly wraps a stocky bicep around your neck again. he’s still merrily buried inside of your gummy walls, feeling you writhe around his lap and he chuckles. you’re panting, full lungs desperately trying to gather up any amounts of air that it could before you exhale. “again, sugu.”

with a purring hum, he lifts you back up, trying to pull your leg over your shoulder. “hm, fine. but keep up. ‘m not gonna go easy on ya this time,” and he gives your dribbling sensitive clit another playful pat. “and ‘m certainly not gonna go easy on her either. but, i’ll try not to break you too bad this time princess, no promises.”

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mwphisto · 10 days ago

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LaDs Men and the nicknames they love

Pairings include: Xavier x Reader | Rafayel x Reader | Zayne x Reader | Sylus x Reader | Caleb x Reader

Warning, this post contains: very light smut, nothing super detailed but definitely suggestive! Also fluff! Read at your own risk!

A/N: all moving banners in the post are by @cafekitsune + please be kind, as these are just my opinion / nicknames I have for them in game and in writings I’ve done. I had fun with this one! I def have more to write so you’ll be seeing more of me soon, thank you for the support!

Xavier

🐰Baby

Xavier isn’t sure what it is about the nickname. It’s so popular, so widely used, almost cliche. Some couples even find it cringy, and for him? It’s pretty damn modern. Maybe that’s why he loves it so much. Something about the way you sound when you call him baby, the tone of your voice, the caress of your fingers. That soft and sleepy “good morning, baby.” Sends his heart into a frenzy. It sparks kiss, then two, then three, and suddenly you’re making out and he’s shoving down his sweats to get inside of you.

“Keep calling me that, please. Need you to keep calling me your baby… I love it so much… fuck!”

🐰Xavi

Simple, sweet, playful. The first time you uttered the shortened version of his name, blood rushed to Xavier’s face. It wasn’t expect it, and for some reason it gave him cuteness aggression. He felt the need to tug you close, suffocate you with his hugs and kisses and maybe slip a nibble or two in there. However, the nickname could be used as a weapon against him. You’ve become prone to using it when he’s mad or jealous. “C’mon, Xavi! He was just giving me bread.” Yeah sure, just bread. That’s the first step, next is getting into your bed. Still, there is nothing he loves more than that nickname.

“Xavi, he’s just giving me bread!” His tone is higher, mocking you as he pounds you into the mattress. Xavi being the only name you can utter as he fucks you utterly senseless.

🐰Bunny

A classic. He just… he’s so… you know? How can you not? He’s your little bunny boy, your sweet, totally innocent bunny boy. You usually call him bunny through text, sending him selfies with the bunny plushie he won you in the claw machine (seems he had a new enemy). Bunny has also become a dual nickname, he’ll call you bunny right back whenever you’re excited or… riled up. It just suits him, suits you, makes perfect sense. “we also tend to fuck like bunnies.” A prompt slap to his bare shoulder sent him into a giggling fit.

“Tell—ha—tell me I’m wrong, my lil bunny…”

Rafayel

🐚 Bub or Bubba

This nickname just came so naturally once you and Rafayel had officially began dating. It just slipped out one day and Rafayel didn’t point it out — simply because he didn’t think you noticed. Then, it happened again, and again, and again. The variation between bub and bubba and sometimes both came out within the span of a minute. Eventually he teased you about it, but you claimed you couldn’t help yourself because he was just too cute. “If you can call me cutie, I can call you bubba.” Rafayel wasn’t complaining though.

“My sweet girl.” A gentle coo in your ear as he hugged you tighter from behind, lips ghosting the shell of your ear as his hips grind forward. “Let your bubba take care of you.”

🐚 Guppy

Rafayel had a huge love hate relationship with this chosen nickname. Initially he had gotten a little defensive, pouting his lips and puffing his cheeks and accidentally reinforcing your love for the nickname in the process. Now? He actually had to admit he thought it was pretty cute. Especially when you’d waltz into his studio, arms wrapping around his neck as you peck his cheek. “Is this your latest piece, guppy? It looks beautiful already!” The nickname was sweet, so sweet it made his cheeks warm every time you used it.

“You like this, huh guppy?” He was going to lose it, tugging against the silk restraints with a frustrated whine. “C-course…” but you fixed him in place with a cool stare “I mean… yes!”

🐚 Raffie

It came out while play fighting one night and Rafayel made you repeat it three times before bursting into a fit of giggles. He’d never heard anyone make his name cute before, so it was only right that his cutie was the one to do it. Though, there was also the argument that he had never let anyone get as close to him as you were. So, in a sense, the shortened and cute-ified version of his name was yours for the taking. It always had been, he was certain of it. “Raffie, what are we gonna do today? Wanna walk on the beach?” Or “Raffie, you’re wiggling too much I’m trying to sleep” no matter the context, Rafayel loved hearing the little nickname from you.

“R-Raffie! Feels so… good please don’t stop!” Your hips jerk against his lips, a fist full of his hair in your fingers: still, the nickname slipped past your lips. You weren’t far gone yet.”

Zayne

❄️ My Love

Just like all of your nicknames for him, none of them really shone through until after the surgeon and you made things official. So, it should be no surprise that Zayne’s face turned a shade of crimson the first time you said it. “My love, where did you put my reusable cup? I need it for training tomorrow.” Poor thing, he short circuited for a good two minutes before finally telling you where the cup had been moved to. Once he was used to it? Zayne started using the nickname back at you. “My love” became a common phrase.

“My love, I’ve missed you—“ a kiss “—so damn—“ another kiss “much…!” You were all over each other, two weeks apart due to surgeries and missions really caught up to you both.

❄️ Sweetheart

You picked it up from the man himself. Every time Zayne called you sweetheart, you found yourself calling it back. Turns out you were both creatures of habit. Whatever one did, eventually the other would pick up. “Goodnight, sweetheart. Don’t stay too late, those files can always wait for the next shift.” Your voice filled this ear, a gentle sigh leaving Zayne’s lips as tired eyes scanned over his computer screen. “Don’t worry, I’ll be mindful of the time. I just have to do one more round and I’ll be on my way home. Don’t wait up for me.” The sweet nickname was the mood boost Zayne needed to finish his shift.

“Hi, sweetheart.” It was groggy, a kiss on your brow was all you needed to know your lover was home. “Hi, my love.” You shivered at the cool sensation of his hands slipping under the covers, roaming your skin in search of some much needed warmth.

❄️ Zaynie

A nickname that you had used on him since childhood, and yet it never failed to make his heart beat just a little faster. As cute as it was, it carried a level of intimacy and domestic nature that made Zayne smile. “Zaynie! It’s your day off, what do you want to do?” And — astra help him — he could think of serval things he wanted to do that didn’t so much as involve leaving his bed. You were just too cute for his heart to handle, so sweet and beautiful and— well it is his day off after all.

“How about this, my love… does this work?” Your mind is reeling, a quite plea if “zaynie…” leaving your lips out of habit.

Sylus

🍷Handsome

Sylus could have fainted the first time you called him handsome. You had done it so nonchalantly, so genuinely too, for the first time the leader of Onychinus didn’t know what to do with himself. You noticed, of course, the little hitch in his breath and the widening of his eyes. And you didn’t say a word, just tucked it in the back of your mind for later. Eventually he got used to you calling him handsome, but it didn’t stop the flutter in his chest when you did. “Morning, handsome. Are we going to go for a walk?” Sure, a walk works, but he can think of way better things to do to… warm up.

“S-so handsome, my ha-handsome boy—“ Sylus groaned, hips swiveling against yours. “Still praising me? What a good girl…”

🍷My Beloved

He thinks you got the nickname from him, considering he’s called you it a handful of times himself. So, it becomes a shared nickname for eachother, and Sylus finds himself grinning like a fool whenever he hears you calling him. “Are you ready to go, my beloved?” Your hand is extended towards him, you’re both dressed to the nines, and he swears the butterflies in his chest are about to break through his damn rib cage. “Course I am, beautiful.” With a shaky little breath, his fingers intertwined with your own. Now? It was time to get the job done… hopefully he could focus for that long—

“Couldn’t help yourself, beloved?” This wasn’t exactly your first time getting pressed up against a wall by your lover while on a mission. And it certainly wouldn’t be your last… “you know I’m insatiable.”

🍷Sy

It was so effortless falling from your lips that Sylus barely noticed it the first few times you had used it. It wasn't until the twins had begun to chuckle that Sylus picked up on the key detail his brain had been glossing over. "So domestic, boss!" to which the two of them were banished from the kitchen. All you could do was laugh, a dopey grin on your face as your lover approached you with mock disdain. "Using a nickname in front of those two... what a dangerous game you're playing, kitten." You could only continue your giggling, even as he picked you up and placed you on the marble countertop. "Naughty naughty..."

"S-sy! Sylus! Shit- slow down!" But he could feel you thrusting your hips backwards to meet his erratic thrusts. "You're so indecisive -ha- kitten."

Caleb

🍏 Honey

Caleb had been cheeky back when you pretended to be his girlfriend, using the pet name as frequently as he could to really sell the act. But, somewhere along the way after things became official, you had begun to use the term genuinely. "Hi honey." Here and "honey, where did you put the laundry detergent?" there and suddenly he was doing it too. It made him feel warm and fuzzy every time you uttered the phrase, and he didn’t dare tease you about it in fear that you’d stop using it all together. He could be your honey any time.

“You like that, honey? Like when I do this?” His lips are all over your chest, nipping and sucking and licking. “Bet you do, you’re as sweet as honey… how about I give you some of my honey too?”

🍏 Lover Boy

It had started as a joke, you even changed his name in your phone to the silly little name. Then? It was something that stuck. He’d say something to you with hearts in his eyes and you couldn’t help but chuckle, a fond smile on your face as you whisper “okay, lover boy, whatever you say.” Other times, you’d come home from work with a tired expression on your face and sleepily mutter it. And fuck did it drive Caleb wild. Sometimes he’d even use it against you, just to see your face fall apart as he pressed his body against yours, whispering the beloved nickname in your ear.

“This is what you want your lover boy to do, huh? Fuck this pretty pussy stupid with his cock? Yeah, good girl, I bet.”

🍏 Kay (pronounced like a shortened version of his name)

You’ve used the nickname since childhood, a shortened version of his name that he’s become damn near trained to respond to. “C’mon, Kay, please?” Anytime you’d want him to cook for you, or do your share of chores, or when you needed help with your homework. The list goes on and on, but Kay was such a special term to him. He loved how sweet and natural it felt coming from your mouth. Even if you were whining a majority of the time you used it.

“Kay! C’mon! Harder!” You’re flushed and drooling, nails biting into his shoulders as you plead with him to fuck you just a little rougher.

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blueberrisdove-sideblog · 2 months ago

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Food for thought: imagine lion!mydei with a prey reader!!! Yk, toss in some dub con and predator/ prey dynamics 🤭. Oh, the way us floofy ears would twitch and his tail would wrap around your leg!!

I'm absolutely convinced mydei is 10000% mean man when it's between the sheets.

Have a good day/night <3. I rlly luv your works and what's your secret to writing rlly good smut? Teach me your ways professor!

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 warnings : nsfw/smut, bunny fem!reader, creampie, multiple of rounds, spanking, size kink, breeding kink, biting, huge dubcon alert, multiple of orgasms and tit slapping and other stuff. ^.^

𓈒ㅤׂ 𝜗𝜚 note : tysm! i’m glad you enjoyed my writing sweetie. And I don’t really have a secret lmao! i’ve been writing long stories ever since I was 11. also reader is implied to be chubby and curvy! also not proof read (as always).

The forest was quiet. Too quiet.

You should have noticed it earlier—the way the birds had stopped singing, the way the wind had died down as if holding its breath. But you were a bunny, and a very stupid one at that. Soft and slow and terribly, terribly unaware.

That was why you didn’t realize you were being hunted until it was far too late.

A branch cracked. Your ears twitched, your breath hitched, and then—

A massive force slammed into you from behind, knocking you down into the dirt. Your heart pounded as you scrambled to flee, but it was useless. Large, clawed hands pinned you down, pressing your softer, squishier body into the earth. A deep, rumbling growl ghosted over the shell of your ear, and your instincts screamed.

Predator.

Your body locked up in fear, trembling beneath the sheer weight of the beast above you. You had heard the stories of the lion-king before—the ruthless ruler of the wilds, the monster who tore through his prey with teeth and claw. And yet, when he dipped his head, sniffing along the side of your neck, he didn’t bite.

He inhaled. Deeply.

And then, to your absolute horror, he groaned.

“Fuck,” the lion rumbled, his voice thick, heated, laced with something primal. His heavy tail coiled around your thigh, holding you in place. His hips rolled against yours, and you felt it—the thick, hard shape of him pressing against your ass. “You smell too sweet to eat, little rabbit.”

His tongue flicked out, running a slow, wet trail up your throat. You shuddered, trying to shrink away, but his hands only gripped you tighter, claws grazing against your skin.

“You’re lucky,” Mydei murmured, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’m hungry for something else.”

Your breath hitched when he grinded against you again, slow and deliberate, letting you feel just how big he was. Your body betrayed you, heat pooling low in your belly despite the fear still prickling at your spine. His hand moved, fingers dragging down your stomach, teasing at the plush softness there before dipping lower.

“Gonna ruin this dumb little bunny cunt,” he growled. “Make you scream for me.”

You whimpered, but there was no escape.

The lion had caught his prey. And he wasn’t letting go.

A rough hand forced your back into an arch, making you whimper as your ass lifted higher. Mydei chuckled, low and dark, his heavy tail coiling tighter around your plush thigh. The fur was deceptively soft against your skin, a contrast to the ruthless grip he had on you.

“Look at this,” he murmured, his large palm sliding over your hips, groping the softest parts of you like he was testing his prize. “Built to be fucked. You were never meant to run, little thing—just to be caught.”

A sharp smack landed across your ass. You yelped, lurching forward, but he dragged you back with ease. Another slap—harder this time—sent a hot sting rippling through your body, making your legs twitch. Your fluffy tail twitched too, betraying you, and he laughed.

“Sensitive,” he mused, palming your sore flesh before delivering another punishing slap. “You get wet from this, don’t you?”

You shook your head, ears flopping as you whimpered, but you both knew the truth. His fingers slid lower, past the heat pooling between your thighs, and—fuck—he found you already slick.

“Stupid little thing,” he purred, rubbing slow, teasing circles against your clit. “What kind of prey gets wet for their predator?”

You gasped as he slid a thick finger into you, then another, stretching you open in cruel, lazy strokes. Your walls fluttered, trying to take him deeper, trying to milk something that wasn’t even inside you yet. Mydei groaned, nosing against the base of your fluffy ears, dragging his teeth lightly along them.

“Bet you’ll take my cock just as easy,” he murmured. “Gonna make you mine. Stuff you so full, you’ll never be able to run again.”

Your thighs trembled as he pulled his fingers away, leaving you empty and aching. Then—something hotter, heavier, pressed against your entrance. You gasped at the sheer size of it, instinct screaming again, but his tail tightened around your thigh, holding you still.

“You’re made for this,” Mydei rasped, rubbing the thick head of his cock against your slick folds. “Made to take my seed, to be bred nice and full.”

He thrust in, stretching your pussy open, forcing a ragged cry from your throat. Your fingers clawed at the dirt, your ears pressing flat against your head as your walls clenched around him, trying to adjust to the sheer size of him.

"That’s it," he groaned, his grip on your hips bruising. “Gonna make you all mine, little thing.”

And with another rough thrust, he set a brutal, unrelenting pace.

Each thrust was brutal, knocking you forward only for Mydei to yank you back onto his cock, forcing you to take him deep. Your plush thighs shook, your body burning with overstimulation, but he didn’t let up.

“Ngh—too much—” you gasped, voice breaking between ragged moans. Your ears twitched wildly with each slam of his hips, your tail fluffing up in distress.

“Too much?” Mydei echoed, voice dripping with mockery. His claws dragged down your sides before settling on your tits, gripping them roughly, squeezing the soft flesh between his fingers. “You’re dripping all over my cock, little thing. You love this.”

You whined as he pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers before slapping your tits, making them bounce from the impact. Your body betrayed you—each slap sent a fresh pulse of heat straight to your core, making your walls clamp down even tighter around him.

"Fuck," he growled, his tail curling possessively around your thigh. “Look at you. Dumb little prey, taking my cock so well. Taking it like you were made for it.”

Your arms gave out, leaving you to slump forward onto your elbows, tits pressing into the dirt. Mydei loomed over you, his golden mane brushing against your back as he fucked you harder, deeper, his breath hot against your nape.

"You’re mine," he groaned, one clawed hand gripping the back of your neck, keeping you in place. "Say it."

You could barely think, barely breathe, pleasure crashing over you in waves. His cock was splitting you open, dragging against your walls in a way that had your stomach twisting in knots. Making your ears flattened as your tail fluffed up.

“Mydei—“ you whimpered.

His hips snapped forward, making you scream.

“Say it.”

“I—I'm yours!” you sobbed, voice breaking into a desperate wail. “Yours—your prey—your—ahhh!”

His teeth sank into the side of your throat, claiming you fully, and your vision went white as you came hard around his cock, your walls milking him greedily.

“Good fucking girl,” he snarled, his thrusts turning erratic. His hands clamped down on your hips, holding you still as he drove into you one last time, pressing himself deep.

Heat flooded your insides as he spilled inside you, thick and so much—your already-sensitive body trembled as you felt it seep even deeper. His cock throbbed, pumping more and more into you, and Mydei let out a pleased growl, licking over the fresh bite mark on your throat.

“Mine,” he murmured again, his hands smoothing over your plush body, possessive and satisfied. “And now… you're bred.”

His tail remained wrapped around your thigh, keeping you close.

You weren’t going anywhere.

Your body trembled beneath him, overstimulated and wrecked, but Mydei wasn’t done with you. His cock still twitched inside your soaked, swollen cunt, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he shifted his weight over you. His tail curled tighter around your thigh, keeping you spread open, forcing you to take every last drop of his seed.

“You look so fucked-out already,” he murmured, one large hand smoothing down your spine before gripping your hips again. “But I’m not done with you yet, little prey.”

You shivered as his hand ghosted lower, spreading your ass to watch his cum leak out of you. He groaned at the sight, his claws digging into your plush flesh. “Already dripping, and I haven’t even knotted you yet.”

Your ears twitched weakly, your breathing still ragged as you turned your head to look back at him. Your wide, dazed eyes shimmered in the dim light, glassy and unfocused—doe-eyed and utterly lost. Mydei sucked in a sharp breath, his cock throbbing at the way you gazed up at him, helpless and ruined.

“Fuck,” he growled. His hand suddenly snaked around your waist, dragging you up off the dirt. You gasped as he pulled you flush against his chest, your legs barely able to hold you up as his cock throbbed deep inside your cunt.

“You’re looking at me like you still don’t get it,” he murmured against your ear. His palm slid up your soft belly before grabbing your tits, squeezing, toying with the sensitive flesh. “You thought I’d stop after one round? Thought I’d just let you go?”

You whined, jolting as he suddenly slapped your tits, making them bounce under his grip. Your whole body jiggled from the impact, heat blooming across your skin, and Mydei “groaned” as his cock twitched inside you.

“You’re mine,” he rasped, rolling your hard nipples between his fingers before giving another sharp slap to your tits, watching them jiggle in his grasp. “Mine to fuck, mine to fill—“

His other hand suddenly slammed against your lower belly, pressing down right where his cock stretched you open. You gasped, your walls fluttering around him as he chuckled darkly.

“Feel that?” he purred. “Right here. My cock, stuffing you so full.”

You sobbed, your hips twitching as he began grinding against your overstimulated clit, pressing down on your belly with every slow, deep thrust.

“Too much—Mydei, please—”

“Please?” he mocked, nosing along your flushed cheek. “Please what, little prey? Please keep fucking you? Please breed you again?"

Your mind was fogged with pleasure, your body trembling in his grasp, but you still managed to choke out a desperate, ruined—

“Yes!”

Mydei snapped.

His tail tightened around your thigh as he slammed you back onto his cock, spearing you open, making your tits bounce wildly with each punishing thrust. You could do nothing but whimper, drool spilling from your lips as your walls spasmed around him, milking him for more.

“Fuck—you’re perfect,” he groaned, licking over your ear before biting down on your shoulder, claiming you. “Gonna fill you up again. Gonna knot you—make sure my seed takes—“

You let out a choked cry as he pressed his palm against your belly again, feeling himself inside you, knowing he was going to breed you until you couldn’t take anymore.

Until you were nothing but his.

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secretaccountlol · 7 days ago

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Loud!Reader x Mark.

This is inspired by this loud!reader by the wonderful and lovely : Nympheagaina

This is SMUT, 18+ only.

Synopsis: you’re quiet during sex, not because your boyfriend isn’t good, just wasn’t in your nature until now.

Words : 2,710!

Warning? : Soft!dom Mark x Sub! reader, sex toys, Mark does pin the readers hands, Reader has female body parts.

Uhmm proofread by my dyslexia ass plz don’t yell at me for typos! I always love readin’ yall comments and reposts!

Author note feel free to skippp :

Oh my god bro, I’m so rusty on writing and I was having such a hard time trying write mark “dom” - like because I just think he would show more thru actions then words .. also don’t think he’d ever be a “hard” Dom, always a soft Dom at that, coaching you thru it, or talking you thru it but also getting choked up as well? Yeah.. I love man whose crying while topping lol. Anyways enjoy.

Supple skin collided with his ears, your thighs flinched as his slippery tongue glided over your clit, one of your hands bury into his head, soft hair tickling between your fingers.

Strings of salvia still connect you and Mark as he pulls away from your cunt.

“H—hey?” Mark’s voice calls to you soft hums slip through your lips.

“H-hm?” your eyelashes are heavy as you stare at him, hazy.

“Am I good-?” He thumbs your clit, hiccuping a gasp from you, his brows tense as he watches your reaction.

“I-hm? Mark.. What do you mean?” Your spine crunches as you prop yourself up, head tilts to hold his gaze.

“Well- uh, you never y‘know moan when I go down on O-or even when I’m— fuckin’ you..” His fingers scratch his non-existent beard, his pouty pink lips make your fingers flex instinctively.

Your pupils shine in regret as you slide your hand under his chin, your thumb strokes his cheek.

“Aw Mark, baby no you—you’re wonderful, I’m just — quiet..” your lips chap as teeth bite into your flesh.

“Quiet?”

“Yeah— I just…” heat builds up in your cheeks, as your voice squeaks.

“We’ve been together for a year now— you can tell me if I’m not good! I can improve, I promise!“ Mark’s pleads reel in your heart.

“ Aw, Mark, no honey. ‘m sorry I’m so used to being quiet after years of living with roommates and stuff, and I was like— using a dildo or vibrator so.” your body shifts as you bite your lips once more.

“I— you’re the first person I’ve been with so, I’m still learning too. ‘m sorry again.”

“Nononoo— I’m glad you told me, I’m just happy to know my stroke game isn’t weak.” A grin peeked through his mouth as you giggled at his stupidity, you planted a soft kiss on his toothy grin. Mark’s grin turns inquisitive as he hovers at you.

“Hey, can— we try something?”

“Depends? What do you wanna try?” Your brows furrow.

“Where’s the toy chest?”

“I— Mark..?”

“Come on, Just— indulge me, hm?”

Your hands pat his arms before motioning your head down, “U—Under the bed.”

“Thank you” his body slinks off you, tentative hands slide the box from its hiding place. Eyes scanning your choice of toys, your body trembling as you watch him judge.

“Hey, why are you so nervous?” His hand caresses yours, snapping you out of your trace.

“It's just me, your lovable boyfriend.” He flashes another smile, disarming you, just a tad.

“Well, my lovable boyfriend won’t tell me what he's about to do plus- I— god. It’s embarrassing watching you fondle my toys!” Your butt wiggles against the bed as he giggles.

“Oh, you mean like this?”

Your hands slap over your eyes as his eyebrows wiggle, picking up a soft pink dildo, fingers sliding up and down its shaft.

“Yes! Like that!” Your back flew down to the bed, curling on your side away from your boyfriend.

“I’ve never seen you this shy before, this is new.” He straddles you, turning your hips flat.

Your hands pry off your pretty face as his breath ghosts against your ear, “I— I kinda like it.”

“Maaarkkk! Plea—hn” A soft lick placed upon the shell of your ear ruptures a shiver down your spine.

“That was a pretty noise.“ Mark plants a kiss on your cheek, nuzzling your nose as he plants another on your lips.

“Yeah. A small one.” Your arms cross and an unimpressive frown adorns your face.

“See, that’s what we’re gonna work on today, using your words— or uh, noises”

You giggle at his shifts of confidence, “Hm, okay Mister. Make me scream then.” Your grin sent a surge down Mark's nervous system.

“Oh, you just fucked up biiig time.” His hands find your waist.

“Really? Did I noOW-!” You yelp as his hand yanks your ankle as he pulls your legs up, cold air hits your pussy as he watches your legs crack wide open, hands grip the back of your thigh.

“Mark!”

His saliva glistens against your pussy as languishing licks start assaulting your clit.

“Mar-nnhn” your fingers grip your arms as your head tilts back. A whimper escapes as Mark plants more kisses upon your clit.

“Mark- please your—“A sharp moan threatens to bubble your mouth, and a pleased hum escapes Mark. Nimble fingers circle your hole before one eases into your aching hole.

“Maa-holy shit.”

“Think you can handle another one?” It wasn't really a question, just an attempt to get you to speak.

“Yesyesyeyyes please-“

Torture wasn’t a good enough word to describe what was happening to you, your mind clouded your skin was running hot, too much, and not enough stimulation. A delicate huff falls from your mouth as his second finger stretches your cunt out.

“Feel nice? Wan’ another?”

A high-pitched whine leaves your mouth as you nod rapidly.

“You have to tell me what you want, I won’t know

If you don’t tell me..” He whispers your name at the end, earning another whine.

“mor—!”

“Good..good you’re doing good! Keep talkin’ just like that.”

“Pleaase!”

Your back arches off the bed as his third finger enters you, and your head throws back as your lips press into a thin line suppressing another moan.

“Oh go-“ you hiccup cut off with another whine.

“You’re so wet, baby..”

The heat and pressure bubbles from the depths of the soul as Mark’s fingers pump in and out, “m— hnm, Mark! I—I can’t!”

“Can’t what?” His thumb rubs harsher circles on your clit as you buck up.

“ ‘m cu— oh—! “ your hands leave a bruising grip, as the world fades white and your hearing turns fuzzy.

Mark’s fingers slowly pump as you come down from your high.

“You.. okay?” His digits pull from your body slowly as you whine from the loss.

“ ‘m great..that was— that was good.”

“Really?”

A happy sigh vacates you, as you lean to scratch his soft hair.

“Yes, really good baby, thank you.”

“I’m not done with you yet.”

Your hands slide to his cheek, as your brow furrows. “Mm, round two already?”

“Mm, yeah haven’t made you scream yet.”

Soft kisses elicit humming noises as hands roam against silky skin.

Mark’s velvety voice calls your name, “ Can I put it in?”

You giggle as you nod, “It fuckin’ kills me with how sweet you are.” you press more kisses on his nose as he trails kisses down your tummy.

His tip brushes against your clit, covering his cock with your arousal.

“Stoppp teasin’”

“Impatient.”

Frustration peaks from you, “Shut u—!”

Mark’s cock stretches your cunt as you watch your face twist in pleasure, mouth in a silent ‘o’.

“Cute..” His fingers rub circles on your hips, gripping them, pulling you flush against himself.

Your knitted eyebrows relax as he draws back before slamming back into your hole, your hands fly to your mouth muffling your sounds.

“You moaned.”

You heaved before letting your fingers tighten then release from your mouth.

“Uh- yeah, I’ve been moaning this entire time, Mark!”

Mark smirks, like a full-blown grin, “no no no noo! You full-blooded moan— no little whimpers or whines. You moaned.”

“Wha— yeah! That’s what happens when you feel good!”

“Mmm—, I wann’ hear more please?” he captures your lips before slamming back into you, your breath hitches as you try to move your hands back to your mouth.

Mark’s hands catch yours, his fingers intertwining before pinning them to the bed, his eyes hang low as he pulls back to look at his work.

“Nuh-uh..Not this time!” A touching kiss was placed on your tender skin as your body wiggled under his body.

“Mar—!” your eyes flutter as the sound starts to rise from your pit.

“Pleas—“Another slam of his hips into yours makes you choke out a sob.

“Co-come on, fuck—..hhn..”

“I- I can’t— “ Heavy pants fill the room as Mark pounds into you harder.

“You— fuck… you can do it, baby? Plea-please for me? Please? Hhn—“ his hands release yours, both softly gripping your face. His hands steady your face as his eyes burrow into yours.

Soft pink lips seeping soft breath against your breath as you stare back.

“Please— I—I’m gonna lose my min— ah!”

You see stars as your hands slide over his as your head tilts back.

A beautiful cry of intoxicating velvet silky sound caresses Mark’s ears, a falter into a stutter, his eyes widen before they turn low in a sultry stare, his hands slip from your face to your hips as he leans back on his knees to take in your body.

“Holy fuck..”

“Hu-? Mark why'd yo— HHN!” Your wrist shoved together held in place by one of Mark’s hands as his hips piston into you.

“Oh- fuckfuck—! You so-sound so so good..fuck please I wann’ — wann’ hear m— hhn” Mark’s teeth graze your neck as his pink lips latch on, your body shudders as he sucks a purple bruise onto your neck.

“Ma— ahhn! Plea— “ Your words seep in and our broken streams as you stir against the hold your boyfriend has on your wrist.

“You look, ah- so fucking beautiful right now, oh god.” Mark whimpers as his hips snap into you, causing another burst of moans.

“Yesyesyes— please..gimm’ mor—“ Mark’s whines cloud your ears as your eyes flicker as your mouth hangs open another moan rips through your throat.

“M— I’m —“

“Yes, yes— giveittome, please please—“ Mark’s buzz through your body as your head tilts back as your walls clench, “ohfuck—“

Your hands tighten into a fist as his seed spills into you.

He milks himself through your high as your moans die down to soft whimpers again.

“Another round?”

“M..Mark, god! I—.. Jesus just caught my breath!” Exasperated sighs hummed from your throat.

“Please?“ Mark's brows furrowed, his face was more akin to a puppy than a human, his hands clasped together in a prayer hand.

“Marrrkk…”

“Y-you just sounded so good, please, pretty please? I jus-just wann’ hear it again. Just one more round.”

“One more round.”

“One more r—“ your breath hitches as his dick swells in you again.

“Damn your stupid vil—“

Vision grows spotty as his cock thrusts into your g-spot, his fingers dig delicate delight bruises into your hips as your sobs echo throughout your apartment.

A loud knock freezes both of your movements. Mark’s eyes glance to yours, fingers pressed into an “Shh” as he pulled out of you, throwing on your pink robe that was hung on the door.

You gather all the covers to your chest as you try to peek through the door, hearing persons mutter then Mark’s trademark embarrassed laughter, then your door groaning shut.

His face comes back into your view, his face flustered as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“What was that about?”

“Uhh— haha, your neighbor.. was worried about you— I explained we were ..uhm in an.. intense— ‘workout’ asked for us to be.. lil quieter with our ‘workout’. Also, she asked for the workout plan, so you’ll have to send that to her.” his shoulders shrug off your robe, putting it back on your door rack before shuffling onto the bed again.

“Oh my god” your face buried into your covers, “I’ll never ever be able to look her in the eye.”

Marks lips grace the top of your head before, tackling you back down to the bed.

“I mean, she was worried! I think that’s sweet.” His nose bury into your neck, inhaling your scent, then soft kisses peppering your skin.

“Just means we’ll have to be a tiny bit quieter.”

“Wha- Mark!” A wonderful hum slips through your lips as his finger rubs circles against your pearl.

“You’re still soaked..”

“Mark, ahh-..” a whimper eggs him on as he watches your face twitch.

“Mark—“ your back arches as a sudden buzz assaults your clit, your hand searches for Mark’s wrist as he pressed the vibrator harder against your sensitive parts.

“Oh— ! Markkk- ho-how’d Wher—?” Your hands slap his arm feebly.

“Mm, when I put your robe back, I saw your toy chest in the corner, I totally forgot I had wanted to use a toy on you. “

Another groan of frustration and desire slams out of you, “Please, show me more. I love hearing you like this.”

Your ears flicker between the buzzing between your thighs and his words as your body convulses in pleasure another shaking orgasm,

“Thatsss’ it, fall apart for me, please for me. baby?” Your hands clung to him like air, your sobs hiccuped through your throat as his vibrator still attacked your sweet spot.

A hazy waft over you as your body hums, breath swallows as you feel a familiar sensation of his cock.

“Ma..Ah!” Nothing prepares Mark for the blistering harmonious moans that danced from your mouth as his cock buries into you.

“Good baby..Fuuckkkk, you’re perfect.” His thumb finds your clit as your back lifts.

“I— can’t-!”

“You can— fuck.. you can take me—“

His thumb applies delicious pressure to your knob, tears brim at your eyes as another yelp releases. “God, baby— I’ll have— mm!” Mark’s breath halts, “You don’t want your neighbor to—mm— come back right?”

Your head shakes as you whimper, “Noo..nonono— fee— good”

“I know, I know. Can’t be — ahh.. Too loud, an-anymore”

“I.. I- can’t! S’its too much-“ Your legs wrap around his waist as you sob his name more and more.

“Mm, t—too much but you're wrappin’ your legs around me?” Mark’s chuckle sends another high-pitched wail from your mouth.

“If y-fuck..! If you keep bein’ so deliciously l—loud I’ll have to gag you,” baby.”

“Can’t— s’quiet- Ma—“ your legs shake as another plays on the horizon.

“S’loud- I’m—“

Mark’s fingers stuff themselves into your mouth, your tongue sluggishly engulfing his digits.

Mark’s eyes burn with ferocious appetite, his hips stammer to a stop as he ogles your lewd display.

“You really want to fuck the shit out of you, that’s the way to do it.”

“Pleas-uh— ‘arder” Your head lifts to take his fingers deeper into your mouth, gagging on them before pulling away, “Mo—mooruh—pleas—“

“God” a stroke of his cock makes your head throw back Again, tears fall against the creaking bed, “W-who am I to den— deny you that pleasure, hm?”

More choked sobs are muffled through fingers as Mark’s punishing pace ruins you further, his breath ghosts the shell of your ear, nipping it with his teeth,

“I hope you aren’t doin’ anything to—mmm—orrow, because I don’ think I’ll be able to s—stop tonight.”

Another plea of mercy from you ignites to Mark’s dick.

The sounds of your sloppy cunt drenches the room as your arousal pools on the bed sheets, your legs and Mark’s member sticky with endless sexual fluid.

“Just one mor— gimmie one mor—“

It’s filthy, only whines and pants as you come again. Your mind is gone, filled with Mark and his cock, how it feels as release inside you finally, your tears have run dry. You can’t remember how many times he came in you, or how many times you’ve come either.

“Maru—fuh”

Mark's fingers leave your mouth with a pop, “Shh, I got you.”

Open-mouth kisses decorate your face as you faintly as your chest rises and falls.

“I’m gonna run a bath, okay?“

You hum in response.

“ ‘m sleepy..”

“I know, I’m sorry”

“You… owe me a massage tomorrow— imm’ be so soooree”

“I promise one massage coming up”

——

A few weeks later.

“Hey, You!” Your neighbor bumps your shoulder gently as you head up the stairs.

“Oh! Hi Julie, long time no see!”

“I know! Listen, I need your workout plan! You’ve been lookin’ sooo good lately, like glowing’ and I, sooo need that in my life right now. Oh and do you need a partner for it? I know you and your boyfriend usually do it together. I always know when he comes over now since the walls are sooo thin haha!”

“I—“ your mind blanks, “Uh— I’ll send you the workout video!”

You scurry to your door as you give a quick wave goodbye.

Now, that was mortifying.

#invincible x reader #invincible #invincible x reader smut #mark grayson x reader #invincible smut #invincible x you #mark grayson #mark grayson smut #mark grayson x reader smut #invincible fanfic #mark x you #invincible comic #invincible mark grayson #mark grayson fanfic #mark grayson invincible #invincible show #invincible imagine #mark grayson x you

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shariasweet · 22 days ago

Text

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ 𝓢ay i𝓣

optional bias 𝒙 f.reader

𝓦c ::: est -1k 𐙚 𝓢harinote ::: i've neglected you all </3 hopefully I can sort of lock in and get these reqs out, definitely a drabble or two 𐙚 warnin𝓰.ᐟ ::: manhandling · degradtion (?) dfinite praise + aftercare (wow!) · piv · unprotected sex (wrap it uppp) · hair pulling (heartbreak emote) · pet-names · choking · mentions of spit/drooling · dumbification · angel girl spin off ??? · f.ᐟreader

"yeah? what about you, baby... you like being fucked full of my cock, don't you?"

you let out nothing but broken, incoherent babbles, drool spilling from your bruised lips.

"what's that, sweet girl? can't hear you, pretty..."

your boyfriend kept drilling into you from behind, one arm wrapped tight around your neck, dragging you upright until your back was flush against his chest.

"go on, tell me. tell me you like it when i fuck you like this... dumb little bunny loves being used like a cocksleeve, huh?"

you nodded frantically, words slurring out between hiccups and moans.

"mmf! ngh—ah! i-i love it..!" you choked, tears brimming in your eyes as your voice cracked from the force of his hips snapping into your aching, hot cunt.

"i know, baby... i know."

he slammed you back down into the mattress, one hand closing around your throat while the other pressed firm between your shoulder blades—forcing your back into an impossibly deeper arch.

"such a good girl..." he groaned, cock dragging deep through your soaked, fluttering walls. "'take me so well, don't you, baby?"

slick pooled at the base of his cock, dripping down your thighs as his tip kissed fervently at your cervix with each thrust.

"o-oh fuckkk! s'deep..." you whined, voice hoarse and wrecked. your eyes crossed, you could feel his bulge poking into your tummy. "yeah? 'gonna cum f'me?" a slap landed firmly onto your ass, the sore, red flesh reverberating around his palm.

all he got in response was a dumb nod.

"what's t-that supposed to mean?" his hands carefully trailed teasingly up your spine, fingers curling into the roots of your hair before yanking you back. hard.

"I already told you, sweet girl..."

"speak. to. me." each word was punctuated by another sharp thrust, the knot in your stomach being forcefully undone as you slipped one pornographic moan after the other out.

"s-shit!!! ye-ngh..! mpf, yes, yes, yes! i'm going to cum ___!"

tears seared down your cheeks—pleasure crashing over you in tall waves as he fucked you through your high. "cum, baby... cream all over my cock." he grunted, "make a mess, y/n."

and of course, you did... sultry gasps leaving your mouth as you twitched beneath him—his orgasm following yours soon after as sticky white cum leaked from your cunt.

(aftercare because this was rough and rushed!)

“'you okay, baby?”

his lips ghosted over your spine—the same lips that’d fucked you dumb just minutes ago now soothed kisses into your skin like apologies.

you nodded, slowly with heavy eyes. “mmhmm…”

but he didn’t move, still laying his weight on top of you.

“i need to hear you say it,” he murmured. his voice stern against the shell of your ear. “c'mon." he chirped. "was it good...? did i take care of you?”

you blinked up at him, coi—lashes still dampened by pleasured tears, lips swollen, chin sticky with drying spit. “yes,” you whispered, “i’m okay. 'pinky promise, baby.”

he let out a soft breath, as though he’d been holding it.

his hand smoothed over your side, pulling you in closer to his chest. “you were so good for me,” he said, so softly it made your chest ache... the same hand that'd yanked your hair was now petting it gently—tucking loose strands as he admired you. “fuck, baby… my perfect girl.”

he'd cleaned you up gently with a warm towel, whispering little praises between each kiss to your skin as the two of you shared small glances and cute, little laughs.

“my girl,” he mumbled, lips planted slack against your temple. “all mine.”

"all yours."

kang taehyun: choi yeonjun: park jjongseong: lee heeseung: park seonghwa: na jaemin: chenle: leehan: whoever else :3

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darlingdaisyfarm · 8 months ago

Text

Ford x fem!reader x Stan

minors dni

Stan’s grip on you tightens, pulling you against his frame as he crashes his lips against yours. There’s no hesitation, just raw, impatient hunger. A kiss that takes your breath away and leaves you wanting more. His hands roam with a boldness that leaves no room for doubt, fingers digging into your hips as if claiming you.

From behind, Ford’s approach is way softer. His lips ghost along the curve of your neck, pressing tender slow kisses to your skin. Such contrast between them makes you dizzy, overwhelmed by the intensity of their touches. You groan softly, caught in the heat of it all, and instinctively lean back into Ford’s embrace. There Stan's face visibly frowns.

Stan pulls back just enough to mutter, “Don't let him think he's in charge here.” his tone is rough, tinged with jealousy, his hand slides over your side, possessive and demanding as if trying to take you away from his twin.

Before you can respond, Ford’s voice cuts through, quiet but confident. “She can decide for herself, Stan,” he murmurs, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, sending a shiver through you. “can’t you, darling?”

The tension between the brothers is palpable, but so is the way their hands explore your body. Stan’s touch is firm, always a little too eager, while Ford’s fingers trail gently over your skin, savoring every inch. They both can’t get enough of you. Stan’s lips crash back into yours, but Ford’s kisses never stop, his mouth pressing slow, sensual kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck, you literally melt between them.

A loud moan escapes your lips when Stan's hand slaps your butt, you sob from a little pain and feel Ford's body tense behind you as he glares at his brother. “What? Are you trying to make me look bad?” Stan huffs.

Ford smirks softly, nipping at your skin gently before whispering, “no? Im just appreciating how beautiful she is.” his touch is feather-light, contrasting with Stan’s more possessive grip. “and I'm trying to please her, Stanley, not hurt her."

“Yeah? well, I’d like to appreciate her too,” Stan bites out, jealousy bubbling inside him. “don’t forget who’s been here longer.” he murmurs into your mouth and leans in again, capturing your lips.

You whimper softly, overwhelmed by their attention, your face all flushed as you try to hold yourself. Both men vying for your attention. Ford smiles against your skin. “Good girl,” he praises softly.

Stan, at the exact same time, mutters, “Atta girl.”

They both fall silent as their words intersect in the most unexpected way. They pull away, looking at each other over your shoulder, realizing what just happened. There's an awkward silence for a moment, but then Stan huffs in annoyance, his grip on your waist tightening. “Seriously? you gotta steal my lines now?”

Ford, always calm, arches an eyebrow, and the corner of his mouth twitches in a smirk. “Didn’t realize praise was trademarked,” he remarks dryly.

You laugh softly, but the sound breathy from arousal. "Are you really arguing about this right now?” you ask them, needing their attention and kisses so badly, you don’t want that to stop.

Stan shoots a half-grin your way, nodding. “You better believe it, sweetie. I’m not lettin’ this nerd outdo me.”

Ford still remains calm and patient, although his hand slides up, cupping your chin, gently turning your face towards him. “Outdo you? Stan, we’re not in a competition.” his lips gently touch yours as he murmurs, “we’re both making her feel good.”

Stan’s cocky grin widens, and he leans in, his voice rough as he rests his hands on your thighs. “Speak for yourself, i think she likes me better.”

Ford chuckles smoothly, rolling his eyes and pressing another kiss to your shoulder, his breath tickles your skin pleasantly. “Is that so? Why don’t we let her tell us herself?”

Your heart pounds, your body burns at their touch and it takes your breath away when their eyes focus solely on you, waiting, watching. “I. . . I like both of you,” you admit breathlessly. “please, just- just continue, I need you both.”

Stan’s eyes light up, his fingers slide lower, his thumb brushing teasingly along your hip. “That’s my girl.”

Ford’s touch remains soft still, his lips pressing a delicate kiss to your neck as he murmurs against your skin, “You’re perfect, darling.”

#ford pines smut #gravity falls smut #gravity falls x you #gravity falls stanford #x reader #stan pines smut #gravity falls x reader #stanford pines x reader #stanford pines #stan pines x reader #stan pines #stanley pines x reader #stanley pines x you

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shalomniscient · 1 year ago

Note

arlecchino with a flirty s/o but with a twist :3, Arlecchino gets fed up with it and fucks her until she can’t think straight :33

ouhhhh anon……….. i’m about to be so deranged—

cw. rough sex, breeding, overstimulation, dacryphilia, degradation (slut, whore), belly bulge

“still want to run that mouth of yours, darling?”

arlecchino’s voice is a haughty sneer from behind you as she keeps you face down in the pillows with a firm hand on your neck, while the other holds your hips up and in place for her to ruthlessly ram her cock in and out of your sopping cunt. you can only manage choked whimpers and moans as each vicious drive of her hips fills you up to the brim, her thick cock forcing your tight walls to open around her.

she’s wrung so many orgasms from you at this point, your thighs slick and glossy with your own cum. there’s a wet spot on the bed from where it’s trickled down your legs and from when she made you squirt. you don’t even remember how long ago that was. your body feels like a raw nerve—each touch she gives you burns like fire but you just can’t get enough.

“arle, m-more, please—“ you beg, and she scoffs, drawing back until only the tip remains inside before slamming forward, filling you brutally. it forces a howl of pleasure from your throat, and she tightens her grip on your neck.

“tch, such a greedy slut, aren’t you?” she growls, leaning down to whisper the words in your ear. her teeth scrape the shell of your ear and you shiver at the sensation. “always so desperate for a cock to fill you up, hm? was that why you felt the need to throw yourself at those men?”

you whine, doing your best to shake your head, though it’s difficult with the way she’s forcing you down against the sheets. she loosens her grip a little and stills her hips, giving you some respite for a moment.

“no?” she asks, with faux curiousity, and you don’t have to look at her to know that her lip is curled up into a look of disapproval. “are you sure?”

“don’t want theirs,” you manage to gasp out meekly, turning your head to look into her eyes. they’re dark, dangerous, but you find yourself drawn into them all the same. “jus’ want yours.”

arlecchino stills, but then the hand on your nape tightens and she’s shoving you even deeper into the sheets, and rutting into you like never before. her cock bullies your g-spot with each thrust of her hips. she grunts as your cunt tightens even more around her length, and the hand on your hip travels lower to your belly, feeling the way her dick makes your stomach swell ever so slightly before going down to your clit to rub harsh circles on the stiff nub.

“fuck, baby— wanted this cock so bad, hm?” she growls into your ear, “my pretty little whore.”

“y-yours!” you cry, fat tears starting to well in your eyes as your brain turns to mush in your skull with each drive of arlecchino’s hips. her front slaps against your ass, the sound of skin against skin ringing out around the room. anyone unfortunate enough to be walking by would surely know what was happening.

arlecchino grins at the sight of your glossy eyes, and in a brief moment of affection presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “shh, baby, just take it, yeah? such a good whore for me.”

you sink your teeth into the sheets below you, feeling the coil in your core wind tighter and tighter. arlecchino grunts above you, her relentless rhythm faltering, and you know she’s close. broken pleas for more and of her name slip from your lips, and it makes her shudder, jaw clenching.

“you’re mine, sweet thing,” she snarls, ghosting her teeth along the slope of your shoulder. “mine, only mine. ‘m gonna mark you from the inside with my cum, breed you full of my baby, hm?”

the thought flashes across your mind like a lightning bolt—a vision of yourself round and swollen with her child—and the coil in your core snaps. you cum with a scream, cunt clenching so tightly you nearly force arlecchino out as you squirt for a second time. arlecchino hisses, hips stuttering before she plants herself as deep as she can go and spills into you. you feel her release fill up ever corner of your cunt and even press against your womb.

you must have blacked out because when you come to again, you’re lying on your side with arlecchino next to you, panting, still buried balls-deep inside you. she presses soft kisses against the back of your neck, while her hand strokes your belly, over the bulge she forms in your stomach.

“my sweet girl,” she mumbles. “my love, my wife…” she whispers sweet words into your ear, gentle praises a far cry from how she’d fucked you just before. “you did well. rest, now. i’ll take care of you.”

#sev.responses #sev.scribbles #arlecchino #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino smut #blacked out and got possessed by the horknee demons #anyway bon apetitty arlecchino nation 🫡🫡🫡

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idkyetxoxo · 11 days ago

Text

Two | How the Star Faded | Little Star

Pairing - Azriel x reader

Word count - 2.9k

Warnings - Mentions of domestic abuse, aftermath of trauma, mentions of sexual assault, angst!

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Fifty years. Half a century since that night, since the last time we sat around the dinner table as a family, full of laughter, of peace, of the warmth we thought would never end.

Fifty years since Rhys had smiled without pain curled like claws at the edges of his lips. Since his laughter had been real and not carved from something brittle and hollow.

Before he went Under the Mountain. Before she took him.

Before Amarantha wrenched him apart, piece by careful piece, until there was nothing left of the brother I knew. Only the shell of him. A carefully polished mask hiding bleeding cracks.

He'd gone willingly. For the people he loved. For our Court. For me.

And I let him.

That guilt—it's never left. It clings to my ribs like barbed wire. A living thing inside me that sinks its teeth in deeper every time I smile, every time I breathe. Like rot.

Because I should've stopped him.

I should have seen the trap in Amarantha's eyes, the poison behind her smile. I should have begged, screamed, clawed the stars themselves down before I let him walk into that darkness.

But I didn't. I stood by and I watched him leave.

So when he returned, when Rhys came back to us, a High Lord with power so vast the air trembled around him, he was not whole. He was not healed. He was hollowed out. Haunted.

There were ghosts behind his eyes. And I knew their names. I knew their voices. They spoke to me too, in the silence between my breaths.

And that pain, his pain... it became my own. My cross to bear. My curse.

I broke quietly, in the corners of rooms no one looked in. I didn't scream and I didn't sob.

I simply... ceased.

I let the world blur around me, let days melt into nights, weeks into months. I was a ghost, not even the kind that haunted, just the kind that faded.

I blamed myself because there was no one else to blame.

Seven years ago, I had stumbled into Rita's. I wasn't looking for anything specific. Just silence. Something to fill the screaming void inside my chest.

Instead, I found him. Daeron. And I let the pain win.

He was everything a Night Court male was supposed to be. Tall, strong, charming, wicked enough to make you forget how to think and handsome enough to distract a dying heart.

I didn't fall for him. I let him happen to me.

Because I didn't want healing. I wanted punishment.

Daeron wasn't just a bad choice. He was a storm, a curse I welcomed with open arms.

Because I deserved the hurt he brought into my life. I invited it, drank it like poison, hoping it would dull the agony of knowing Rhys was down there, suffering. Alone.

And I was here. Safe.

It started with possessiveness, little things, things I told myself were normal, endearing even. But soon his touch felt more like a leash. His words became daggers dipped in honey.

And then, one night, the first slap came fast—unexpected. My cheek had burned, my ears rang. I hit him back, just as fast, just as sharp.

But it didn't stop after that. He didn't stop.

And eventually... I stopped fighting.

Because why should I be free of pain when Rhys had been shackled in it for so long? Why should I be loved, be cared for, when I had failed him so completely?

So I let it happen.

I refused to heal the bruises. Let them bloom across my skin like wilted flowers, reminders. Punishments. Proof that I hadn't forgotten what I'd done or what I hadn't done.

Cassian found out first. He had dropped to his knees in front of me, hands gripping mine like they were the only things anchoring him to this terrible world.

This mountain of a male who'd never bowed to anything. Had bowed before me.

I remember the way his voice broke, the raw, ragged sound of a male begging. He pleaded with me to leave Daeron. Swore he'd make him disappear, quietly, cleanly.

I pulled my hands away. Told him if he laid even a finger on Daeron, I would never forgive him.

Cassian, brutal, loyal, war-hardened Cassian—cried. Not loud sobs, but quiet tears that carved silent rivers down his face.

And I hated myself more.

Then Mor, bright, beautiful Mor, came to my bed in the middle of the night. She crawled in beside me and broke. Collapsed completely.

She clung to me and sobbed like I had died and she was still grieving. She cried for the girl she remembered, for the friend she thought she'd lost.

I whispered lies into her hair. Told her I was okay. Told her I was strong.

Amren wasn't so gentle. Her barbs were sharp, her jabs relentless. When they failed to land, when she realised I wasn't reacting, her insults faded into something worse, silence. Judgment.

But it was Azriel who shattered something in me further.

He never raised his voice. Never touched me. He didn't need to. He just looked. Those shadows that clung to him seemed darker when he saw me. His silence wasn't cold, it was desperate.

I saw the pain in his eyes, pain he never let anyone see. The kind of pain that came from watching someone you care about choose to bleed.

Azriel, who had spent his life enduring pain, looked at me and hurt.

And still, I stayed.

Because somewhere along the line, I convinced myself this was my penance. That Daeron's cruelty was what I had earned for letting Rhys be sacrificed.

And if I was suffering, then at least I wasn't forgetting. If I was bleeding, then maybe Rhys wasn't bleeding alone.

Because in my now twisted, broken mind... this was love. This was loyalty.

And I didn't think I deserved anything else.

Now, seated on Daeron's lap, I offered the illusion of contentment, a painted smile beneath a split lip, a hand tangled loosely in his golden hair.

He cradled a glass of Rhys's oldest whiskey, centuries-aged, amber like melted sun, its scent sharp and heady in the air.

He held it the way lesser males held power they'd never earned. Like it was owed to him. Like it had always belonged to him.

And maybe that's what he believed.

His other hand traced lazy circles along the inside of my forearm. Possessive. Claiming.

Across the room, Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel stood shoulder to shoulder, their voices low, murmured over half-drunk wine and fading patience. Discussing Feyre, no doubt. The Cursebreaker. Rhys's mate.

The human who had defied Amarantha, shattered her curse, and changed the world.

They looked like a wall of gods—scarred, quiet, and infinitely dangerous. Rhys, dark and still as a midnight sea. Cassian, solid as a mountain carved from fire and loyalty. Azriel, veiled in shadows, every muscle pulled tight with restraint.

But Daeron didn't flinch because he wasn't afraid of them.

Because I was still here. Because he knew without a shred of doubt that I would stop them. That I would protect him. That if it ever came to it, I'd put myself between him and their wrath.

I had done it before. Again and again and again.

Not because I loved him. But because I hated myself.

Across from us, Mor and Amren sat in silence. The weight of their gazes pressed on my skin, all sharp edges and quiet fury. I didn't need to read minds to know what they thought of Daeron.

They didn't have to speak aloud to scream their disgust.

Rumours always had a way of travelling in the Night Court, slipping through cracks, whispered on shadows. And I knew, I knew, those whispers had reached my brother's ears.

It was obvious in the way Rhys never truly took his eyes off me, even as he listened to Cassian. It was there in the subtle tension of his shoulders, the slight furrow between his brows that hadn't eased all evening.

Azriel, for his part, didn't bother to hide it. His shadows hovered like hounds kept just barely leashed, coiling at his boots, tasting the air around Daeron like they were preparing to strike.

But he hadn't said anything. Not yet. And I clung to the silence like a lifeline.

"Little star," Cassian's voice broke the air like a blade through silk, yanking me from the haze.

I turned toward him, mechanical, as if my spine had rusted and I had to force each vertebrae to move. My body untangled from Daeron's grip like molasses poured in winter, slow, reluctant.

Daeron let me go with a theatrical sigh, his displeasure humming through the air like a low, sour note. I felt it in my blood, in the phantom imprint of his fingers still pressed into my side.

"Cass," I greeted, keeping my eyes fixed on him, anywhere but Rhys or Azriel.

I didn't need to see their faces. Their disappointment hung in the air like smoke. I could smell it.

"Your dearest brother was wondering why you haven't baked anything," Cassian offered lightly, a poor attempt at normalcy, at banter, but even he couldn't make it sound right.

A poor attempt at pretending I hadn't just climbed off the lap of the male they all despised. At pretending I wasn't falling apart piece by piece.

I blinked, startled, and looked at Rhys for the first time. He gave a short, clipped nod. His eyes were tired. Too tired.

"I'm sorry. I didn't have time."

He reached for my hand, gentle, warm and held it between both of his. His thumb traced across my knuckles, like he was trying to remember something. Trying to find me underneath the layers of silence and bruises and choices I'd made.

"What have you done with my sister?" Rhys asked softly, voice catching. "My little star would never apologise."

I tried to smile. I tried. But it wouldn't come. So I shrugged. What was left to say?

She's gone, Rhys. You left, and I killed her myself.

Then Daeron's voice slithered in behind me. "What are we talking about?"

My entire body stiffened. His arms slipped around my waist, dragging me back into his chest with a smug, theatrical flourish.

My hand slipped from Rhys's before I could stop it, his warmth, his tether gone in an instant.

Daeron nuzzled his chin against the top of my head like I was his property.

"Nothing of importance," I muttered, fisting the fabric of my dress until my nails bit through skin.

He tutted, dissatisfied, then tilted my chin back, forcing a sloppy kiss against my lips, loud and showy, a performance just for them.

For him. I didn't miss the flick of his eyes toward Azriel. The silent taunt.

What are you going to do about it, shadowsinger?

I felt Azriel's gaze snap to mine. His eyes, those careful, calculating hazel eyes, burned with a helpless kind of desperation. His shadows began to stir, inching toward me like a tide ready to crash. He was holding them back, I could feel it, reigning them in through sheer force of will.

The conversation beside us resumed, Rhys and Cassian trying to speak like nothing was happening.

I couldn't listen anymore. Couldn't focus so I watched the rain instead.

It tapped against the glass like fingertips, soft and persistent. Like it was trying to get in. Trying to remind me that outside this room, there was still a world. Still something beyond this.

Minutes passed or maybe lifetimes.

Daeron's hand slid to my shoulder. A gentle squeeze. Innocent enough until it wasn't. He knocked back the rest of his whiskey and let his hand wander. Lower.

I shifted uncomfortably, trying to lean forward, to break the contact. Subtle. So subtle no one else would see. "Not here," I murmured. "Rhys is right there."

I may as well have spoken to stone.

Daeron ignored me, his fingers drifting across the neckline of my dress like he had every right.

"Stop," I whispered again, panic threading through my voice like wire.

He didn't. His hand kept moving—lower, bolder. Until it closed over my breast.

Shame flushed hot and violent over my skin. Not warmth, humiliation. Rage curdled beneath it, but fear kept me frozen in place.

"Stop touching me like that," I said again, a little louder this time. My voice cracked. My heart cracked.

But Daeron didn't stop.

Until darkness exploded in the room.

A windless thunder crashed in the space between seconds. Shadows surged around me, anchoring me in place as the High Lord of the Night Court turned, and death itself followed in his wake.

Rhys's face, my brother's face, was carved from grief and fury.

"She told you to stop touching her," he said. Voice calm. Terrifying. A command wrapped in velvet and venom.

Daeron staggered back, instantly sobered. His hand dropped from my body like it burned him.

I stepped forward, shadows still holding me steady, but I flicked them away. I could stand on my own.

"Go," I said, my voice low. Empty. "I'll handle this."

Daeron opened his mouth like he might argue with me but he glanced at Rhys again, at his eyes, now twin moons of wrath and thought better of it.

He stalked out of the room, muttering curses under his breath like a coward pretending he had the last word.

He didn't.

A lone shadow detached itself from the others and followed him just far enough to smack him upside the head.

Azriel's shadows. Always precise. Always watching. Always protecting.

Silence fell once he completely walked out and I turned on Rhys.

"What are you doing?" I snapped. The words came out too fast, too sharp, like a blade unsheathed in panic.

I hadn't meant for it to sound so harsh. But I was unravelling, thread by thread, coming undone in front of everyone.

Rhys didn't flinch. Didn't blink. Didn't breathe.

Something in him had fractured. I could see it, behind his eyes, in the way his chest rose and fell just a little too fast.

The fury in him wasn't fire. It was colder than that. Older. The kind of rage that remembers.

Cassian moved first, a steadying hand on Rhys's arm, murmuring something too low to catch, too gentle for a room this tense.

But Rhys shook him off like the touch burned through his skin.

He wasn't listening. He couldn't listen. He refused to listen.

His eyes stayed on me, obsidian fury and sorrow locked in a single stare.

"Does he touch you?" he asked, and the quiet in the room grew instantly, sickeningly still. His voice had dropped to something ragged. Raw. A quiet thread of desperation barely holding him together. "When you don't want it?"

The words echoed through the space, louder for how quiet they were. Louder because we all knew what he meant. What memory he was dragging back into the light.

Because every single one of us remembered. Under the Mountain.

How he had smiled with blood in his mouth and poison in his veins. How he had stood beside Amarantha like a pet, like a toy, because he had to.

Because survival had a price.

And now he was looking at me like he was watching it happen all over again.

Only this time, it was me.

I swallowed something sour, choking and clawing its way up my throat.

"It doesn't count," I whispered. My voice cracked. My hands trembled at my sides. "He's my boyfriend. It's... it's different."

Rhys crumpled into a chair like the breath had been knocked clean from his lungs. His head dropped, curls falling forward, his body folding in on itself like a man utterly defeated.

I felt the tears well in my eyes before I could stop them but I didn't let them fall.

He looked—he looked destroyed. Not just sad. Not just horrified. Devastated.

Because the one person he swore to protect, his little sister, his little star, had been suffering the same nightmare he had.

And he hadn't seen it. He hadn't stopped it.

He thought the war had ended. He thought the monsters were gone. But I had been bleeding in silence for years.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked, standing suddenly, voice trembling with a fury too big to contain.

Azriel stepped in, trying to ground him with a wordless look, but Rhys shoved him back, his control unravelling at the edges.

The Shadowsinger blinked, stunned, his shadows retreating slightly as he looked away from me, almost ashamed he hadn't been enough either.

"Rhys, it's not anyone's fault—" I grabbed his arm, tried to steady him.

"I will kill him," he hissed, low and savage, and I knew he meant it. With every fibre of who he was, he meant it.

And I... I broke.

"No." I stepped between them, heart thundering. "You will not touch him, or so help me, Rhys, I will never speak to you again."

Silence fell again, thicker, heavier than before.

Rhys looked like he'd been gutted. His mouth opened, but nothing came out. His eyes glistened. Shining. Wet. He blinked them back, refusing to let them fall.

Cassian, the ever-loud general, was silent beside him. His hand hovered helplessly over his dagger as if not knowing whether he wanted to fight or crumble.

Mor and Amren were unmoving, statues of restrained grief. Watching the ruin unfold. Hoping Rhys could say something—anything to pull me back from the edge.

But it was Azriel's silence that cut deepest.

Still. Composed. Shadows curling around him like a storm in mourning.

But inside, I knew. I knew every word I had spoken had gutted him. I saw it in the slight twitch of his jaw, the way his fists were clenched too tight.

He had thought it was only physical. Just bruises. Just scraps of pain.

He had no idea how deep the rot had gone. No idea that Daeron's hands had become chains I wore willingly. No idea that I thought I deserved it.

"Why?" Rhys asked again, voice wrecked. "Why do you let him hurt you like this?"

I didn't look at him when I answered. I didn't look at any of them. Because it was the truth I'd never said aloud. Not once. Not even to myself.

"It's not hurt if it's deserved."

The silence shattered something in the room. Something permanent.

And I walked out—leaving behind their grief, their fury, their broken hearts, because facing their love was harder than enduring the pain.

A/n - A lot to unpack here, I know, but this is where the real story begins, we finally get the context. Healing, as a concept, is messy. It doesn't follow a straight line, sometimes it starts in ruin. I don't want it to feel clean or polished yet, I want it to feel a little broken, a little heavy because that's the truth!!

Next part is more Az focused this one was still a bit more context and story development :)

As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts so please don’t be afraid to share them <3

Little Star tag list - @jaybbygrl @writtenbypavani @fall-winter-heart97 @coeurdeveea @lilg101010 @krazykangaroo712 @moonlitlavenders @lil-lupa @jasmineee05 @pinksnowtiger @yourdarkrose @nerdybee123 @bookwormysblog @thoughtfulcoffeeflower @suspicious-stain-in-spain @anainkandpaper @theflowerswillbloom @queenoffeysand @historygeekqueen

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syoddeye · 4 months ago

Note

Price as Davy Jones from POTC. Comes back every ten years to track down reader no matter where they are

the timing of this ask is bananas, because i was just discussing a similar premise with friends. (except davy jones!ghost, purely to describe him prying a barnacle off of his face and eating it in front of reader.) but this works so well with price, too.

prefacing this by admitting I haven't watched any potc movies since they came out. so this is based on what i remember, and we're going to be forgiving lol. this spun out into 1.9k.

cw: implied/referenced noncon/rape, body horror, stabbing/shooting/violence in general, implied/referenced breeding, largely unedited all vibes no brakes.

Clinging to a scrap of what was once a passenger ship, choking on smoke and seawater, you whimper as bits of wreckage and bodies bob around you, lifeless limbs brushing against your legs.

The wreckage still burns, providing just enough light to keep the nightmare well within sight. You see too much: the ship’s carcass, curious dark shadows, a woman in the distance gradually being sucked beneath the surface, her dress pulling taut like an anchor.

You barely register the ship until you hear the whipping of its sails.

Its silhouette is monstrous. A ghastly thing, every bit of it disfigured by time and violence. Its lights blur in your salt-stung eyes, and you blink hard, certain it isn't real. It's a hallucination, a cruel trick of exhaustion.

Yet, it is instinct to call out, to raise your voice. A very human thing, the desire to survive.

Minutes pass, and you're sure that your voice is lost among the waves, but the slap of a dinghy hitting water jars you. Voices call out, searching. Hope stirs in your chest, but as the small boat nears, its crew shoving wreckage and bodies aside, you see the figure at its bow.

A man. Not a man.

A lantern swings in a fist. Light and shadow spill across the figure. Wet skin like pale wax, cloudy eyes set beneath a furrowed brow—and that is where his humanity ends.

Protruding from his beard, claws arc from his face, ridged and brown like a crab's shell, melding seamlessly into the flesh of his jaw and temples. His lips, blackened and peeling, purse together in a line. A line that slowly tips upward in its corners as your eyes grow wider and wider.

A scream works its way up your throat, but it sticks. The last thing you see is his hand, reaching, before the world spins, and darkness swallows you.

You come to, tucked in a bed, with a callused and damp hand holding your own, like a nurse would. Humming a quiet song.

It's him.

When you scream, he waits. When you cry, he says nothing. He watches you recoil, your breath catching and shuddering on your panic, and he permits it all. But when exhaustion drags you back to the pillows, he moves. A canteen pressed to your lips. A piece of bread on your tongue.

"Consider this is a second chance," He rasps, voice like the ship he plucked you from, charred and waterlogged, bubbling and burnt. "A survivor, but only alive because I decreed it so."

He names himself Captain Price. Gestures around you: this is his ship, his crew. You'll find no disloyalty here, no soft hearts. Then, with a flex of his claws—gleaming, articulated things jutting grotesquely from his skin—he acknowledges what you've already guessed.

"You've heard the stories, I'd wager."

You have. Cursed ships. Drowned men who don't stay dead. When you booked your passage, the name was muttered like a bad omen, then dismissed with soothing reassurances: That ship's just a tale to scare the children and womenfolk.

But the proof sits in front of you, chest heaving in watery breaths, clouded eyes watching your every move.

"I've invoked my privileges as captain," He informs you as you stare, dumbstruck. "You'll be under my protection. Mine alone."

The implication is clear, as sharp as the claws on his face. Companion. The word sticks in your throat. The roof of your mouth.

When the fear overwhelms you again, your body shaking with what he means, he doesn't let you cry or scream. His grip tightens into a vise until you gasp, a warning. His spare hand, an even more disfigured mangle of fingers and claws, drum against the bed frame.

"If that doesn't suit, you can bunk with the crew tonight. And come morning, I'll see you back to the sea."

It isn't much of a choice. Not one at all, really. You let the silence speak for you, and he releases your wrist. Rising to his full height, he tells you to finish the bread, drink, and sleep.

"Unfortunate thing like you, you'll need it."

The next day, you're allowed more time to rest, though don't dare sleep. You're terrified of the Captain. Of him reconsidering his so-called mercy. Worse still, when you do think of the crew, you almost wish he'd let them have you. At least it would afford you an end to this torture. Peace at the bottom of the sea.

The cabin door is locked at all times, of course. Still, you're surprised to find yourself free to roam its cramped confines. You rifle through maps and logbooks, though the latter might as well be written in a foreign language. The room offers little else: no paintings, no books, nothing of sentiment. A space for planning and sleeping, nothing else.

You listen instead. The voices above deck, the crash of waves. Through the porthole, you see no land, discern no direction. The hours crawl by, and it's only when the sun disappears that he returns.

He brings food. Your dress, dried. You take the meal reluctantly, your appetite thin but you do not think he'll allow you to starve. You don't question the food's origin. From what little you've gathered, he doesn't need it.

When you're finished, the Captain takes the plate and utensils without a word. Alone again.

And so it continues. Breakfast. Dinner. Hours of silence in between. Days pass, melting into one another. You lose yourself in the monotony and isolation. You're certain this is hell: locked in a cabin surrounded by monsters, the devil himself tending to you.

Eventually, the thought comes, sprung from the desperate prayers you whisper every night. Clear and unshakable. Kill the devil. Free yourself.

When the moment arrives at dinner, you do not hesitate. The dinner knife fits perfectly in your hand as you swing it, the blade aimed at his chest. You expect resistance, struggle—but there's none. The steel sinks in easily, the sound wet and horribly soft, and the grin on his face only deepens.

He laughs. Your blood turns cold.

"Was waitin' for this," he chuckles, grabbing and pressing his pistol into your hand. He adjusts your grip, tilts the barrel toward the vulnerable stretch of his throat where carapace gives way to flesh. His claws click against the weapon as he steadies it.

"C'mon, darling. See what happens."

The shot rattles your teeth, and then it's everywhere. Blood, bits of tissue, saltwater spraying out in a burst. It coats his chest, slick and shining, and splatters up your hands, your arms.

For a heartbeat, you think it worked. His head rests against the back of his chair.

But his skin, ceral and dripping, slowly knits. Wet threads reach for one another and tie themselves together, leaving a shallow ridge. It's as if you did nothing at all. His head tips back up, gaze heavy-lidded and glinting. He spits the ball of lead out, a dark sludge dripping from the corner of his lips, and his good hand finds the back of your skull. He reels you in for a kiss. Defeat tastes like salt and iron.

The routine changes.

An unholy wedding occurs. You know God averts his eyes.

The man leading you down the aisle wears a skull as a mask, its hollow sockets fixed forward, fluttering gills at his neck. It is the first taste of fresh air you've had in weeks. Gruesome creatures crowd the deck, clawed hands and tendrils reaching to tug at your makeshift veil of netting and lace. Their jeers fill the air, delighted and mocking.

You are wed.

But Price admits to you on your wedding night, his deformed clawed hand cradling your head, buried within you, that he knows you can't stay. There are places he must travel, places you cannot go.

You do not believe him until he finds you an island, which, unbeknownst to you, lies on the path of a trade route. It hits you as he lifts you from the dinghy and sets you down in the shallows. This must be the end of it. This is the last you will see of him and his crew, his cursed ship. You will starve, die, and rot in freedom.

Before you take a single step toward the beach, he seizes you by your dress, turning you back to him. His eyes scour your face as if trying to memorize it. Every feature, every detail.

He leans in close, whispering in the salt-sweet air, "I'll find you again. I can promise you that."

Time blurs into a haze of hunger and thirst before you're found. It's hailed as a miracle: you survived. The sentiment haunting as you limp your way back to what remains of your life.

Years pass and wear the edges of memory down, turning them almost bearable. Captain Price's promise fades into the background, like the echo of a bad dream.

You take a husband. You find a new home. You vow to never touch the sea, again.

Until the storm.

It comes howling, ripping through the harbor, swallowing ships whole, and splintering docks. The air is charged, furious. You cannot put words to it, but in your bones, it feels personal. You watch from your window, mesmerized, until you see it—a figure in the rain.

The lantern's light swings with his steps up the hill to your cottage. The whistle from his blackened cuts through the roaring wind, and your stomach knots with the memory it drags from the depths of your mind.

Your husband goes to ask if the stranger requires shelter from the storm. Frozen in fear, you cannot stop him as he greets his death with open arms.

Through the window, you see it unfold. The moment of recognition, him stiffening as he takes in what he sees. Then he screams, the sound ripped straight from his chest, raw and panicked, the same way you screamed all those years ago.

You try to hide, of course. Try to bar the door, arm yourself with whatever you can find. But it doesn't matter. The door groans, then gives. It crashes open, shoving back the table, and in he steps. Captain Price. Rainwater and the blood of your poor husband dripping from his hands.

"Who was that, love?"

His grip is cold and iron-tight as he pulls you from your corner. "Not this again," He chuckles, plucking the kitchen knife from your hand.

The Captain drags you to bed, chest heaving, eyes moving over you like he's deciding where to start. How to make up for lost time. He speaks softly, almost tender. Husbandly.

"Ten years is long for you, I know," He peels your clothes off, marveling. He studies the changes in your body with reverence, dragging his fingertips along every line and wrinkle. "I do not fault you for your loneliness. But…a husband?" His tone hardens, eyes locking to yours. "Did you forget you were already a wife?"

Your mouth opens, then closes, nothing coming out but shallow, desperate breaths, like a fish gasping on the deck.

"This time," he murmurs as he shrugs free of his coat, then his shirt, "I'll give you something to remember our vows by."

The Captain leaves with the storm. The town counts its losses, buries its dead, and you stand by your own pile of dirt behind your cottage, a hand pressed over your belly.

Dread already quickening.

Ten years isn't that long at all.

#price x reader #dark fic

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rhiannonsknife · 3 months ago

Note

HAVE YOU SEEN THAT ONE CLIP WITH GHOST JACKIE GOING “It’s just a cut, don’t be such a baby” HEHDBEBEBEVE– this has got me thinking of mean dom! Jackie 😔

- 🐑

— YELLOWJACKETS S3 SPOILERS (mdni)

this is also for the anon who sent me this ask: ‘would it be weird if i said that i would let jackie spank me with that pride snap bracelet? 😔’….nsfw content, so mdni.

“aw, does that hurt?” comes the low rasp, close enough that her breath skims the shell of your ear while her fingertips soothe over the pulsing red mark on your flesh.

this isn’t jackie.

you know, deep down, that the real jackie never looked at you like this, never tilted her head in a way that suggested she actually enjoyed your suffering. this jackie, the one standing behind you now, is different. she’s smiling like she’s savoring every second of it.

she didn’t demand that you strike your own skin like she did with the others, so the sting turned raw, and blood gushed from a wound caused by the impact. no, she’s holding it now, tapping it idly against her wrist as if debating when to use it.

the other girls are gone. maybe they were never here to begin with, only a part whatever it is that you're seeing. either way, it’s just you and her left now.

jackie runs the edge of it down your spine, and you shudder at the sharp contrast of cool plastic against fevered skin. you’re too hot, the room is too close, and the anticipation coils tight in your stomach as the bracelet glides lower, over your shoulder blades, down the curve of your back. “what’s the matter?” she pouts, voice as soft as it is mocking. “i thought you could handle this…?”

you grip the edge of the desk beneath you, hoping that it’ll make the throbbing between your thighs go away. it’s too telling, too exposing to know you’re absolutely soaked from the slaps against the swell of your ass. “you’re not real,”

jackie hums as she smooths a hand down your spine. it’s solid, nothing like a hallucination should feel. “maybe not. but i’m here, aren’t i?”

the bracelet hits against your skin, sharper this time, and your breath shudders out of you in a high-pitched whimper.

the jackie you knew would never do this. she was sharp-tongued, sure, but never outright cruel. she never wanted to hurt you.

this jackie?

this jackie likes watching you squirm and shift, rubbing your thighs together like that will make the sensations any more bearable. she can see the wet patch against the fabric of your underwear from where she’s standing, evidence enough that she never stopped having this effect on you.

“you always were my favorite,” jackie muses, leaning forward with a hand on your hip. “bet you liked when i was mean to you, didn’t you?”

you shake your head, but there’s no denying it when she trails her fingers higher, pressing them against your cunt through the thin lace.

“liar”

she doesn’t give you time to answer or to process the sensation of her sudden touch. with her free hand, she snaps the bracelet against your thigh, making you jolt against her fingers. your body clenches, so painfully aware of the lack of relief, and jackie chuckles as she traces the mark where the bracelet last struck.

“tell me to stop,” she rasps, challenging.

you don’t.

her hold on you tightens, and she lets the bracelet slap against your skin again, this time just a little harder, a little closer to where you need her touch. any touch, really. your clit throbs as you try to rut against the table’s edge, a futile attempt to find relief. you cry out in something between desperation & pleasure.

“don’t be such a fucking baby,” jackie hisses.

you should be afraid after seeing what she was capable of with it. instead, you arch into her touch.

#jackie taylor Ღ #˙🔞 ̟ !! mdni #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor x female reader #jackie taylor x fem!reader #jackie taylor x you #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x female reader #yellowjackets x you #🐑 anon

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enimsiyobeht · 3 days ago

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munch (tae’s version). short drabble.

mdni 🪽 !! boypussy taehyun x amab reader. implied ot5 harem. implied 6th member reader. use of cunt, pussy, folds, slit, clit, entrance, hole as tae’s gential. risky setting (except tae purposefully didn't lock the door), tae’s a lil mean (but it doesn't last for long), needy tae w/ an attitude, oral (t. receiving), could be seen as a quickie, subtle/minor dirty talk, subtle exhibition kink if you squint.

“You have five minutes before someone comes looking,” Taehyun whispered, his back pressed to the cool tiles of the dorm bathroom. His eyes darted to the door—but he didn’t lock it.

You raised an eyebrow, stepping close, fingers ghosting over the waistband of his joggers. “So dramatic. You dragged me in here.”

“And you’re taking too long,” he snapped quietly, but the heat in his voice faltered the second your hand cupped him between the legs. Already warm. Already soaked.

“I thought you could be patient,” you said, smiling as he exhaled shakily. “Always so serious, Taehyun. What happened?”

He shuddered as you pressed your palm firmer against his cunt through the fabric. “You kept looking at me like that during dinner,” he muttered, refusing to meet your gaze. “Didn’t even touch your food. Just—watched me.”

Your voice dropped, mouth brushing the shell of his ear. “I was thinking about how good you taste.”

He choked out a sound halfway between a moan and a curse, hands gripping your shoulders. “Then get on your fucking knees already.”

You grinned.

He hissed when you pulled his pants down just enough to expose his dripping pussy, the slick mess of him glistening in the dim light. He was flushed and needy, trying so hard to stay composed even as his thighs trembled slightly. You didn’t tease—too much. You kissed the inside of his thigh first, then again closer to where he needed, tongue flicking just shy of his folds.

“Fuck—don’t be a dick,” he whispered harshly, but his hips chased your breath anyway.

You licked him once—flat and slow up his slit—and he almost buckled.

“Taehyun,” you murmured, hands tightening around his thighs, “don’t make a sound.”

Then you buried your face in his cunt.

He gasped through gritted teeth, head thudding softly against the tiled wall. Your tongue worked slow at first, easing between his folds, lapping at his clit, teasing his entrance. He was dripping for you, pussy pulsing, practically pulling you in. Every soft moan that slipped out, he tried to swallow—but his body kept betraying him, hips twitching forward, thighs tensing under your grip.

“Fucking mouth—” he muttered, breath catching. “Why do you always make it feel so—nnnngh—”

You hummed into him, letting the vibration spread through his core. His back arched slightly. The more you devoured him, the more he crumbled. Your tongue slid into his hole, curling and stroking deep, and he whimpered before he could catch it, one hand slapping over his mouth.

You pulled him closer, your tongue steady and deep, your nose bumping his swollen clit every time he rolled his hips. He was shaking, legs spread wide, cunt throbbing against your mouth.

“You sound so good when you fall apart,” you said against his soaked folds, voice rough.

“I—I can’t—" he gasped.

“Yes, you can. Give it to me.”

He came hard, clenching around your tongue, slick spilling down your chin as he trembled silently, only the desperate hitch of his breath giving him away. You didn’t stop until he was twitching from overstimulation, thighs clamping uselessly around your face.

When you finally pulled back, your mouth was slick and swollen from how hard you’d eaten him out, and Taehyun looked ruined—eyes glassy, chest heaving, hands shaking as he tried to fix his pants.

“Next time,” he rasped, “lock the fucking door.”

You smirked, licking your lips. “You didn’t want it locked.”

He didn’t deny it.

(previous solo) | (next solo)

#works 🐥 theboyismine !!#top male reader #bottom character #tomorrow x together smut #txt smut #kang taehyun smut #kang taehyun x male reader #taehyun smut #taehyun x male reader #sub kpop #sub!idol #sub!txt #kpop smut #kpop x male reader #dom male reader #dom!reader

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al-1-na · 7 days ago

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𝐌𝐞𝐭 𝐆𝐚𝐥𝐚 (req.)

(not a part of any series)

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Drew Starkey x actress!reader

𝐂𝐖: p in v, fingering, rough, puplic bathroom sex, smut, MDNI!!!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After not touching his best friend for so long, Drew finally snaps at the Met Gala and takes her to the bathroom.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

The Met Gala was glitter and madness — flashing cameras, celebrities in couture, and champagne flowing like water. You were draped in a tight, black, custom gown that clung to your every curve like it was painted on. Hair flawless. Diamonds gleaming. And Drew?

Drew was in a perfectly tailored tux, eyes dark as sin, jaw clenched like he was holding something in.

Everyone thought you were just best friends. The press loved to call it platonic, your fans romanticized the tension, but only the two of you knew the truth: nothing had happened. Yet.

But the way he was looking at you tonight?

You could feel it — the shift. The burn under your skin, the heat in his stare as his eyes dropped to the slit in your dress, the way his hand brushed your lower back like he owned it.

“You’re gonna kill me in that dress,” he murmured against your ear during one of the cocktail rounds.

You smirked. “Maybe that’s the plan.”

He didn’t smile back. His jaw ticked instead. He leaned in, lips ghosting the shell of your ear.

“Five minutes. Find a bathroom. Now.”

You blinked, heart stuttering, but your legs were already moving before your brain caught up. You didn’t care who saw. Didn’t care if TMZ caught the tail end of you slipping into a side hallway with him right behind you.

He pushed the door shut behind you, locked it, and in one breath he had you pinned against the wall, his mouth crashing into yours like he’d been dying for it.

“You drive me crazy,” he growled, gripping your waist. “Strutting around like that. Knowing I can’t touch you. Watching other guys look at you like they even have a chance.”

You moaned into his mouth as his hands slid down your back, gripping your ass through the tight fabric.

“You could’ve touched me anytime,” you panted. “Why didn’t you?”

He pulled back just enough to look in your eyes — fire blazing.

“Because if I started, I wouldn’t stop. And this…” he slid a thigh between your legs, grinding against you, “this isn’t gonna be sweet. I’ve waited too long for that.”

He spun you fast, bending you over the marble sink. You gasped at your own reflection — flushed, wild-eyed, lips swollen from kissing.

Your dress was hiked up before you could blink. He tugged your panties down, the lace ripping in his fist as he tossed them aside like trash.

“You have any idea how many times I’ve pictured this?” he muttered, fingers sliding between your thighs. “You bent over, begging for it?”

You were already soaked. He groaned as he pushed two fingers in deep, curling them just right.

“Of course you’re wet. You like getting caught like this, don’t you?”

You whimpered, clutching the edge of the sink.

He didn’t wait. The sound of his zipper echoed sharp in the bathroom before he pushed inside you in one rough, delicious thrust that stole the air from your lungs.

“F—k, you feel perfect,” he hissed. “So tight around me. Like this was meant to happen.”

He started to move — hard and fast, no teasing, no slow build. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, mixed with your moans and his ragged breathing.

Every thrust hit deep, his fingers digging into your hips, holding you right where he wanted you.

“You’re mine now,” he growled. “You understand that? I don’t care who hears. I don’t care if someone knocks on this door. Let them. Let them know who’s making you feel this good.”

You couldn’t even form words — your voice was strangled pleasure, the only sounds escaping your throat were moans and gasps as he rammed into you, over and over.

Then his hand slid around, fingers circling your clit with just the right pressure.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he whispered against your ear, biting at your shoulder. “Let go. Show me.”

You came hard, body shuddering against the sink, the orgasm ripping through you like wildfire.

He groaned deep and slammed in once more, burying himself to the hilt as he came inside you, body tense and shaking.

After a second, he leaned in, pressing kisses down your spine, softer now. Reverent.

“You good?” he whispered, breath warm against your skin.

You nodded, still breathless. “More than good.”

Drew turned you around slowly, hands gentler now, eyes still dark with everything he couldn’t say yet. You leaned into his chest, still catching your breath, heart pounding in sync with his.

He reached down, grabbed a few tissues from the counter, and knelt between your thighs with quiet focus. The moment his fingers brushed over your skin again — soft, careful, worshipful — you shivered.

“Hold still,” he said, voice low, thick. “Let me take care of you.”

He cleaned you up delicately, murmuring something under his breath about how good you were for him, how perfect you looked like this �� used, glowing, and still wearing the kind of smirk that made his control snap.

When he finished, he stood, and without a damn word, tucked your torn panties into the inside pocket of his jacket.

You raised a brow.

“Souvenir?” you teased.

He leaned in, lips brushing your ear, voice a low rasp. “No, baby. Proof. In case you forget who you belong to now.”

Then he kissed you once more — slow, deep — before opening the bathroom door like nothing happened.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪. 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧:)

@psychocitylights @cokewithcameron

#𝐚𝐥 𝟏 𝐧𝐚 #drew starkey #fanfic #drew x reader #rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe imagine #met gala #drew starkey x you #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey smut

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cheolhub · 1 year ago

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WHAT YOU NEED — JEON WONWOO ࿐

summary. wonwoo knows how shy you get telling him what you want, but he’ll get you to use your words one way or another.

wc. 2.5k

warnings. mean-ish soft dom!wonwoo, sub! reader, corruption kink + slight humiliation kink! lots of teasing from wonwoo, lots of begging from reader, pet names [love, baby, sweet girl], dirty talk [😵‍💫], possessiveness (reader is so into it), heavy praise, unprotected sex, creampie — MINORS DNI 18+

note. it’s been months… hellooo… i forgot how to write so forgive me for the shitty plot lol. this is me attempting to get back into the writing world 🤓 hopefully ONE of u enjoys this <3 p.s. i’m srsly in my wonu era

“remember what i said, love,” wonwoo murmured, soft lips pressed against the shell of your ear. “if you want something, you gotta use your words.”

you hated this– everything about this– the teasing, the deep timbre of his voice that shoots heat straight to your core, him in general. he’s well aware of the fact that you can’t stand it at this moment, but that doesn’t put an end to his teasing.

your back arches off his chest as you feel the ghost of his fingers over your painfully wet cunt, covered in a pair of cotton panties. “wonwoo…” you whine, eyes brimming with tears of frustration. “please…”

he merely chuckles, pressing a kiss to the skin under your ear. “please what?”

when you and wonwoo started dating, you were so shy. so shy and so, so sweet. you’d never been with anyone before him, and of course he felt bad that he was the one to rob you of your innocence, but he was filled with a sense of pride (and urgency) when he’d found out he was the one to corrupt you and ruin you for everyone else.

and he was gentle. yes, jeon wonwoo was so, very gentle, handling you like a pretty doll while coaxing orgasms out of you left and right with his hands and mouth till your body was slack and you were nothing but a puddle of tears. he got you ready for his cock and you took it well. then you took it again. and again. and again, till you and him both knew you were his and he was yours.

it got to the point where you’d crave him at the most inconvenient times. while you were running errands, at work, at dinner with your friends– it was almost insufferable.

but he always took care of you. all you had to do was ask and he’d be there at your beck and call with whatever you wanted, whether it was with his mouth, fingers or cock.

he always makes you ask because wonwoo’s taken a certain… liking… to making you say the filthiest things. he knows it makes you nervous, but that’s why he thinks he loves it. he loves your stammering and how he can feel the heat radiating from your body. it’s cute.

which is why you’re in your current predicament, sat between his legs, your own spread over his with your back pressed to his chest after sending an innocent ‘come over, please? <3’ text.

“don’t make me say it, won… it’s…it’s unbecoming. just… please.”

usually, he’s not so adamant on getting you to say exactly what you want. all you had to do was say please, and he was all yours.

but no, not today apparently.

“there’s nothing unbecoming about it, my love.” he noses at your neck, his breath fanning over your racing pulse and eliciting your soft shudder. “just tell me what you invited me over for and i’ll give it to you.”

“please… touch me.” you whisper, heat creeping from where his lips are on your to neck all the way up to the tips of your ears.

you can feel his shit-eating grin and you want to scream at him, but your need for him is much more profound than your desire to slap him in the face for teasing you to this extent.

his hands rub up and down your arms and you hear his smile when he asks, “like this?”

you groan, shaking your head, “you know what i mean!”

“i don’t know what you mean, actually. can you dumb it down for me?”

you mentally curse him out, but you try to steady your breathing before you speak again. “touch me… down… there.” you attempt to say, but it comes out as more of a squeak.

wonwoo’s uncharacteristically large hands find your tummy and you want to sob when he asks, “here?” you shake your head. “words.” the demand vibrates through you and you let you an embarrassing whimper.

“lower,” you whisper, unable to trust your voice. “please, wonwoo.”

he runs his fingers down your abdomen and trails them down your thighs. you can’t help the cry that leaves your mouth. “mean. you’re so mean.”

“you can say it, sweet girl.” he whispers. “it’s not unbecoming. it’s not inappropriate. it’s fucking hot. i want you to tell me exactly what you want and i swear to god i’ll give it to you.”

you sniffle, frustrated and slightly embarrassed, but you stutter out in the softest voice he’s ever heard you use, “please touch my pussy, wonwoo.”

you think it feels awkward and gross coming out of your mouth with your voice, but wonwoo… wonwoo groans, hand immediately slipping into your panties. “good fucking girl.” he grumbles as his fingers find your clit.

you jolt at the contact but melt into him just as quickly. “fuck,” you whimper, thankful that you’re finally receiving the touch you’ve been craving for the past half hour. “f-faster, please.”

wonwoo’s chest swells with that familiar sense of pride again as he hears your beg. he obliges, the rough pads of his fingers circling the swollen, pleading bud. “you’re so fucking wet…”

you moan, head falling back on his shoulder. your face burns like never before as you get out, “f-for… you. ‘m wet for you.”

wonwoo isn’t always vocal, but when he is? he’s loud. so the moan that slips from his mouth startles you a bit.

“that’s right, all for me.” he grunts, possessiveness lacing his voice causing the jostling of butterflies in your tummy. “all fucking mine, forever mine.”

you change your mind at this– you love the teasing, the deep timbre of his voice, him especially.

“always yours.” you nod vigorously, body writhing as he quickens the movement of his fingers.

wonwoo doesn’t have much self-control when it comes to you, so it’s taking everything in him to not flip you over and fuck you till all you can say is yours, yours, always yours. instead, he opts for trying to get more out of your pretty mouth. “how do you feel, baby? tell me how much you like my fingers playing with this pretty little cunt.”

it’s so filthy, but you can��t help but arch your back at the sound of his words. “love them s’much, wonwoo. feels s’good.”

he’s sure you do feel good, he’s a skilled man after all, but he knows you probably need more.

“yeah?” he responds breathily, cock aching at the validation and how pretty you sound saying his name. “this enough to make you cum, or do you want more?”

your brain fogs over at the thought of more. you can nearly taste ecstasy on the tip of your tongue and you don’t doubt that you could get off with just his fingers, yet… the idea of being filled to the brim with his fingers or his cock is much more compelling.

“more.” you breathe in reply.

“what was that?” he teases, fingers slowing down.

there’s that wicked sense of humor that makes you want to slap him across the face.

you barred your teeth before gritting, “fuck me, please. i need more. i need you, wonwoo.”

his ministrations stop and before you get the chance to complain, he’s rolling your panties down your legs and guiding you to straddle his abdomen. he slips his sweats down enough for his cock to come out and, even though you can’t see it, you can feel its looming presence.

“take what’s yours, baby.” he stares up at you while you stare back, eyes wide.

“y-you… you want me to…?” he knows what your unfinished question translates to and he nods and gives you a lazy smile even though you can see the burning desire in his blown out pupils.

you let out a short breath and nod, more to yourself than anything. he’s never let you have control while you’re on top, but you feel giddy that he’s giving you a chance now. you lift your hips up and take a hold of his hardened length in your hands. you run the blushy tip of his cock through your folds, eliciting a hiss from the man under you, before finally sliding down his cock. slowly, you feel every inch of him invade your pussy and it’s so good, despite the slight burn.

you forget how tight the fit is every time. even with how wet you are, you still feel your walls stretching to accommodate his size.

you cry softly, body going limp as you finally hit the base of his cock. “won…”

“you feel so good,” he moans softly, hands finding purchase on your hips. “are you alright? does it hurt?” he manages to ask, cock twitching at the way your walls wrap around him.

you shake your head incessantly, hoping he doesn’t worry too much. “no– no, ‘m okay. j-just need to adjust.”

wonwoo nods empathetically, rubbing soothing circles into your skin to ease you. “you’re doing so well.” he whispers after a minute of silence, the only sounds being your ragged breaths and the soft hum of the air conditioning. “gonna make sure you feel so good, baby.”

you feel the heat reappear and a gush of arousal leak at the praise in his hushed voice. it inspires you to take action.

you press your palms to his clothed abdomen, wishing he’d taken off his shirt so you can feel his skin, but you can’t be bothered to ask him to do so now. you lift your hips up his cock before letting yourself drop, a moan tumbling out of your mouth when you feel how deep he is inside you.

you repeat the sloppy movements, stangled moans slipping with every sharp thrust as you spear yourself on his length over and over.

it’s not till wonwoo guides you with the tight grip of his hands on your waist that you find a steady tempo, the sound of skin on skin growing louder with the mixed sounds of his grunts and your mewls.

you slip your hands under his shirt, craving the closeness, and lightly run your nails down the skin. you feel him contract under the contact and you can’t stop the way your walls tighten around him when his hands squeeze you harder.

the longer you ride him, the more your thighs burn. it eventually causes your speed to falter and wonwoo, ever the observer, is quick to notice. he decides you’ve had enough and bucks his hips into you, meeting you halfway while groaning out your name.

the bulbous head of his cock rams into your sweet, special spot as he takes over and you throw your head back in utmost pleasure. tears spring to your eyes and wonwoo finds this to be the most beautiful sight he’s ever laid his eyes on. your tits bouncing with every push, your mouth cracked open as the prettiest sounds leave it, the way your eyebrows knit in pleasure– he makes a mental note to bring his camera next time you invite him over.

“tell me what you need, love.” he demands yet again, words breathy and clipped as his cock throbs in between your velvet walls. “tell me what this pretty pussy needs and i’ll fucking give it to you.” his sentence ends in a growl when your nails bite into his bare skin, leaving red, crescent shapes in their wake.

you let out a choked sob, “w-wonu–”

he sits up, using his strength to bounce you up and down at a leisure pace– one that he knows does nothing for your needy body. “don’t get shy on me now, baby, you can tell me.” he coaxes, sultry voice circling your brain.

you swear if your body burns any hotter, you’ll explode.

your mouth opens to let out a plea, “p-please make me cum– please, i-i wanna–” your words are swallowed by him as he smashes his lips to yours. you moan his name into his mouth and he all but moans back into yours.

you involuntarily clench around him when he hastily bucks into you while also guiding your hips on his cock. when he pulls back, he sports swollen lips and lust-ridden eyes and it makes you all the more needy for your coveted release.

“rub your clit and get yourself off for me, yeah?” you pants before his mouth lands on one of your breasts, sucking and tugging at the peaked nipple.

you follow instructions, two of your fingers moving to circle the swollen bud and your free hand gripping his shoulder for more support.

at the onslaught of pleasure, the knot that’s been rapidly forming in your tummy all night tightens beyond belief and you know you’re on the precipice of an orgasm. wonwoo, being as perceptive as he is, just moans at the way you pulse uncontrollably around his cock.

if you’ve learned anything from the teasing and the rather humbling experience you’ve had tonight, it’s that you should definitely voice what you want.

and that’s exactly what you do.

“i– fuck, wonwoo. i need to cum, please let me.” you beg as you get closer and closer to your anticipated release.

he releases your nipple with a pop and nearly growls. “cum for me, baby.”

it’s all you need to hear before a silent scream leaves your lips and white, hot pleasure runs its course. your body goes taut as the tether in your belly snaps in half, cunt and body practically spasming all the while your brain spins erratically.

wonwoo is enthralled by the sight and feeling of you. the grip he has on you is near bruising as he watches you fall apart on him– feels you fall apart on him.

“so beautiful,” he praises, voice strained as he nears his own release. “my beautiful girl. you’re so fucking good for me, you know that?” he rambles, cock twitching as you let out more whines and whimpers.

“c-cum in me.” you demand, voice broken and hoarse from all the screaming. “i-i wanna feel it. i need to.”

an animalistic growl bubbles in the back of his throat and his slow pace and sweet praise disappears, replaced by an unforgiving speed at which he pounds into you. you’re back to broken moans as he lets out labored pants till, shortly after, he’s stills inside of you, cock nestled at your hilt and he’s releasing his warm load inside of your battered walls.

you collapse on top of him, savoring the feeling of his warmth inside of you.

“did i hurt you?” he whispers after a few minutes of unsteady breathing from the both of you.

you shake your head. “just my dignity,” you joke softly, resting your forehead against his. “i’m alright, don’t worry.”

he chuckles, cupping your cheek and running the pad of his thumb over the dried tear streaks, “i was a bit mean, huh?”

“so mean.” you tease, kissing the corner of his mouth. “you’re lucky i love you.”

“beyond lucky.”

taglist! @ficrecnctskz @bowmonde @jinxedmuse @rubyreduji @peachyaeger @roe-sinning @ollieollieoctopus @dunixxd @uwuheeseungie @limbomoon @wonuqrtz @onlyyjeonghan @hotchnrz @vikc

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#wonwoo smut #jeon wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #svt smut

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