#i wanted to draw her with the sharp teeth but mouth hard to draw

[bodaciousbird]

Guess who finished punk hazard!

[shotmrmiller]

Simon is enthralled by you, John Price's cat. Oh, how beautiful you look on all fours, rubbing your face on his jeans. How lovely the mews that spill from your lips sound— music to his ears.

He grabs you by the hips to lift you onto his lap, mindful of your tail and brushes his covered nose against your cheeks. "Aren't you just precious?" Simon lifts his mask enough to expose his lips and nips the tip of your human ear. "I wonder if this pretty kitten has a pretty pussy, too," he softly says. Your half-lidded eyes look at John, who's chosen to be just a spectator tonight.

"You heard him, kitten. Show Simon what he's asking for." The bell in your collar clinks as you lift to turn yourself around in his lap, and he grabs your waist with his large hands to assist. "Careful, I don't want you falling off and getting hurt." Simon extends his long, thick legs which gives you a bit more space to work with.

Keeping your knees together, you place your bare, dainty feet on each shoulder, and with a trembling exhale, your knees drop open.

Simon intakes a sharp breath through his teeth at the sight of your glistening cunt spread open— a flower in full bloom. The grip on your waist tightens to what should be considered pain, but to you is just acute pleasure.

"She's a fuckin' sight, sir," he admires without looking up. He drags a blazing trail with his fingers from your waist to your mons, pad of his thumb hovering over your swollen, slippery clit. "I'm curious, though, kitten," You look at him, cheeks flushed, and answer him with a tiny little mewl. "I'm curious if you'll purr for me, too," and draws agonizingly slow circles, that is exactly what you want, yet not enough. The whimpers slithering out of your throat make his cock achingly hard, and if you turned around, you'd see a sizeable tent in John's trousers too.

John's voice is thick with arousal as he says, "She likes it when you let saliva dribble from your mouth onto her pussy, isn't that right, kitten?"

You bob your head, mouth open, a bit of drool at the corner of your mouth. Simon's touch is magical. You've got liquid fire in your veins, every precise circle rubbed onto your nub tightens that coil in your lower stomach, and when he spits onto your pussy, the warm glob of spit that lands directly on your clit almost has you coming from it alone.

Simon notices how your hips start moving on their own, picking up speed, forcing more friction on your clit when he stops touching you, removing all stimulation. The keen you let out is primal, a high-pitched whine. "Oh, I know, I know," he coos at you, "I just gotta ask your owner for permission, s'all."

He tips his head to the side, looking over your shoulder, and nods. John must've agreed to whatever he's thinking because Simon's dark eyes gleam as they meet yours, a feral, toothy smile on his lips.

Simon taps your hips lightly and orders, "Hips up." Your feet lower from his shoulders to flatten on the couch— thighs spread wide from how broad, how wide his body is. Your hands rest on his knees behind you, and you rest your weight on them to lift up. Simon lets out a snarl and completely hooks your knees over his shoulders forcing your arms to give way. Your head lolls on his thighs, upper body almost completely upside down, and his hands cup your arsecheeks—mindful of the tail— and raise. What—

His warm, wet tongue licks through puffy lips, and flicks at your clit. The arousal that had waned comes back, and it comes back harder, faster, more intense. He's eating you like you're his last meal, and now you definitely sound like a cat, albeit a dying one.

Simon gives your bud a suck and your neck cranes back at the sensation, and that's how you see John, upside down, leaning back, one arm on the backrest holding his drink— the other stroking his cock through his trousers. He looks—

A sharp slap to your arse has your spine curling, legs tightening around Simon's half-covered face, stubble prickling into the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Eyes on me, kitten."

Your spine curves and you realize that you can see Simon, his dark eyes locked onto yours, and that he can see you. You wanted to care about the unflattering angle he's got you in, but it all melts away when his mouth opens wide to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit, and his lip is curled on one side, so you can see his unnecessarily pointy canine.

Once Simon realizes he's got your full attention, he eats. Unrelenting as he chases your climax like it was his own. The pulse of your heartbeat is deafening in your ears, your vision darkens as he forcibly drags you to your finish line, and with one final lap at your stiff bud, he tugs on your tail, and you burst.

Mind-numbing pleasure sweeps through your body, wave after wave of ecstasy crashing into you, prickling at your nerve endings, leaving you a shaky, slobbering mess on his thighs.

Simon doesn't even give you a moment, doesn't grant you reprieve because, within seconds, he's manhandling you and sinking you down onto his massive cock, spearing you in half, stretching your soaked channel to its absolute limit. It burns, it stings and yet the only thing that comes out of your mouth is an airy moan.

"Atta girl. Your pussy's suckin' me in like it wants to keep me in it forever," and his head tips back as he groans, "You're squeezing me so tight, m'not gonna last."

John's gruff voice comes from behind you, commanding. "Then don't, Simon. Fill her up."

Simon's answering smile is, honestly, a bit scary. He looks like the predator he becomes on the battlefield, the one who snuffs out life like a fire on a candle wick. Vicious, cruel, ruthless.

"Yes, sir."

He spreads his thighs, feet flat on the floor, and picks you up with his forearms, only to bring you back down on his cock. Impaling you. The tip of his cock is hitting so deep, you vaguely wonder if the flared head is being pinched by the tiny hole of your cervix. He's destroying you, but at no point in time does it ever turn into physical pain. Simon is using you like a pocket pussy, yet is angling your hips to hit your sweet spot. And oh so sweet it is, because it takes you exactly seven (7) thrusts of his hips to make you come around him, frothy, milky essence coating his cock.

"Fuckin' hell, pet. Fuckfuckfuckfu—" and he brings you down harshly, grinding his hips up, as he shoots rope after thick rope of cum into you.

Simon's exposed chin is dripping sweat, as he pants harshly in front of you, trying to catch his breath. Your body begins to slump tiredly when you feel your tail being caressed, beard scratching your neck as John peppers your damp neck with kisses.

"It's my turn now, isn't it." The bell on your collar chimes as John pulls you to kneel on the floor, face pressed in near Simon's softening member. Faintly, a zipper opens, and the swollen, long length of John's cock pushes into you, pushing out Simon's cum, dripping down your abused cunt to make space for him.

"Mewl for me, kitten," and grabs you by the hair, craning your neck to look up at Simon, who's gazing down at you with heavy-lidded eyes. He curls two fingers underneath your collar, restricting your breathing, and says, "Go on. Let us hear you."

what a delightful day to be John Price's cat

[vidalsbeloved]

HER TROPHY pt. 2

Rio Vidal x Female Reader!

Warnings: smut (literally), light degradation, orgasm denial, overstimulation (kinda).

Words written: 1.2k

Note: Idk why but I had a really hard time writing this part so I apologize for it being so short and boring and maybe confusing? I have no idea. I had to go back so many times and try and get inspired from part 1 lol. Anyway, enjoy!

It is late in the night when she returns to you— you stir in your sleep, feeling the buzz of her magic surrounding you, the fire igniting in your veins that sends jolts of wanton need through your being. But you don’t see her when you wake, disappointment flares in your stomach when the realization hits you that it’s another jest that Rio had settled up at some point and time since she’d last left. Making you think she was back when in reality, it was her way of torturing you since she couldn’t be there physically.

So this night to you felt no different, how naive of you not to realize that your back was to her. You feel the bed dip behind you and her breath ghosting your neck— you gasp, leaning back into her body as she places a kiss at your pulse. A hand came up to rest on your neck, tilting your head back to rest on her shoulder as the other drifted lower and over your stomach.

She reaches for the hem of your silky white nightgown and traces her sharp acrylic nails across the skin of your thighs, you buckle against her and whimper, feeling a heat building between your legs.

She nips your ear with her teeth and laughs against you, “Needy little thing, aren’t you, trophy?”

You nod against her, sighing when her touch inches your gown higher up your thighs, achingly close to your barely exposed center. You grip the sheets below you when her fingers make contact, tracing the outline of your underwear.

“Rio,” you gasp. “Please..”

She cups your aching center and scoffs, “How pathetic, baby girl. I’ve barely even touched you and you’re already drenched..”

The hand on your neck drops, and suddenly, with a flick of her hand your undergarments are pulled from your body and her hand is burying itself in your folds. One of your hands reaches to grab the back of her neck and she lets you— pressing your lips to hers in a desperate needy kiss. Her teeth nip at your lower lip, drawing whimpers from you.

Her free hand grips your hips, stilling your movements and you mewl into her mouth— she pulls back just enough to look into your eyes and when she does, they are dark and filled with lust. You swallow and pull at her again, drawing her back in. She doesn’t let you, her grip on your hips tightening.

You look up at her, your eyes pleading, desperation taking over as the heat inside you builds— your shallow pants fill the air surrounding the two of you and all you want is the feel of her body against yours. The look in her eyes as she stares at you is nothing but predatory, as if at any second she would devour you all in one go. You watch as her eyes drift over your form and watch the way you desperately try to jerk your hips to meet the thrust of her fingers.

She bites her lips as her gaze travels back up to your big doe eyes and with a low growl she’s pulling her fingers out of you, tearing apart your nightgown and pushing you down onto the bed. She’s feral in her moves, but you know you’ve got her.

Her hands grope you as she dives down to nip and suck at your neck and chest, leaving her mark on your skin. A reminder of who is in charge. Of who you belong to. And what you are to her. A trophy.

You belonged to her, you always would. And though part of you despised yourself for being so willing to walk into her with open arms— you couldn’t resist. The pull you felt in your stomach denied your resistance, your want to stay away. Because you were bound to her, her mark upon your skin by her knife, her power tethering you to her very being. She owned you and though you hated it you couldn’t help but also love it.

She kisses her way down your stomach and over your hips, nipping at your skin and sucking marks. Her hands tweaking your nipples as she made for your thighs, pulling them apart and over her shoulders. She sucks at your inner kneecaps, then bites, listening to your gasps of pain as she travels higher and higher until she’s where you want her most.

Her breath on your aching cunt is already enough to have you mewling and arching your back— she chuckles darkly against you, teasing you as she leans in to lick up your slit, purposely, slowing down to tease you as she grazes your clit.

“Rio,” you mewl.

She hums, then does it all over again, deliberately, slowing to edge you, knowing it was driving you crazy. You reach out to fist your hand in her hair, but she grips your wrists and pins them down at your sides, digging her nails into your skin in warning.

She pulls back, looking at you through dark luscious lashes, “Such a needy girl, aren’t you? Can’t even keep your hands to yourself.”

“Rio—“

“Hush,” she whispers. “Be a good girl for me, can you do that? Or are you too needy?”

You nod and she smiles sadistically, cooing, “I knew you would be.”

She delves back into your cunt, sucking your clit into her mouth and holding your hips as they jump to meet her tongue. She chuckles against you, eyes straying on your form as she devours you.

A single tear stream down your face, the pressure of her presence, her power, and her pleasure crashing over you in waves, becoming too much. And you love it.

Her tongue flicks over your clit, then sucks harshly. You whimper, calling out Rio’s name as she nears you to the edge— only to pull back when she feels you pulsating on her tongue. Your gargled moans fill the air as you search out her presence, the feel of her on you.

She climbs up your body, taking your wrist in her hands and pinning them above your head in a suffice grip. Her breath fans your skin and your eyes meet, her eyes are dark and filled with an intensity that sends shockwaves of pleasure down to your core— forcing your hips to jump, and her grip tightens.

“You are mine,” she growls the words out, possessively, the hand on your hip coming up to wipe away your tears.

You nod once as she rubs your cheek, eyes softened.

“Yours,” you murmur.

Her eyes search yours— finding that familiarity, the truth of your words. “So beautiful,”

And then she’s kissing you again growling, all her softness gone just as quickly as it was there. “Mine.”

And she brings you to the edge, once, twice, three times more— taking you over and over again until she knows you won’t be able to walk the next morning. Her marks on your skin were a reminder that you were hers and hers alone. That if anyone ever laid a hand on you, she’d know.

For you see, being Deaths Trophy, was a gift. A gift to cherish for centuries, because just as you were special in her eyes, she was special in yours. You loved her. Whether that be against your will or not, you were.

You lay there, naked in Death’s arms, her enveloping you in such a way nobody in the world would. Her grip taut as she presses kisses to your head and whispers sweet nothings into your ear. Lulling you, until you are fast asleep.

She untangles herself from you, kissing your head once, whispering. “I’ll be back, my trophy.”

And then she’s gone, but her kiss lingers.

[senseichaos]

Hey, can you have a Lucifer going down on a female reader until she’s completely over stimulated? Trying to push him away, him using his magic to keep her still that sorta think? TIA🤤

Your wish is my commannndddd!

IMAGINE

"Amh.. Luci s'.." Your words get swallowed up by another moan that goes through your body, legs trembling as Lucifer's hand keeps them open with a strong grip. A blush goes over your face when his eyes peek up at you as he works his tongue against your clit, circling the sensitive bud at a tantalizing pace that makes you go dizzy.

You pull your blanket to your face, lower lip trembling as the pleasure from Lucifer's tongue continues to go through you. Gasping, you feel Lucifer's tongue dip into your hole, the pleasure from the action causing you to squirm and whimper loudly in an embarrassed pleasure.

"Duckling.." you hear him mumble into you, the vibrations causing you to continue trembling. "It's not nice having you squirm when I'm treating you, hm? Remember this is a punishment," oh you remember all right. You'd accidentally ripped a hole in one of Lucifer's expensive shirts, he wasn't mad (he's never mad) but he was definitely looking for that opportunity to punish you all the same; his punishment was simple, he was going to eat you out as many times and make you cum as many times as he pleases.

So far, he is doing a fucking good job at doing just that.

"Sorry! It's just so dirty.."

He chuckles, the vibrations making your cunt clench around nothing.

"That's just how I like it, silly duck. Now stay still for me, hm?" He asks, and under his soft yet authoritative gaze nodding without any thought but his beautiful lips as they kiss against your clit.

as Lucifer laps his tongue against your clit whilst his fingers massage into your thighs, you feel your first high begin to tighten inside of you. Once again feeling your body tremble as you bite your lower lip, closing your eyes shut tightly whilst Lucifer puts his oral skills to good use. You press the sheets to your mouth, letting out a high pitched whimper when your thighs threaten to close around Lucifer's head. He doesn't allow it, though; he makes sure to keep your thighs open nice and wide for him even if that means using a large amount of force.

"Lucifer! Careful or m'!" You moan, the knot in your stomach itching to unravel your orgasm.

"Mhm?"

"M' gonna cum!" You cry, and Lucifer chuckles, nibbling his sharp teeth against your clit as his tongue draws circles against it. With that movement you are inched to your high, the knot inside of you unraveling so hard you squirt a little. But Lucifer doesn't stop, he continues to eat you up, taking what he wants from your choicest of fruits. He doesn't care that you squirted on his chin, he doesn't care that tears are beginning to fall down your cheeks, he continues to lap up all of you. He's determined to do as he chooses.

"Daddy! S'too much..!"

Lucifer laughs, sucking against your swollen clit for a moment before withdrawing, mouth pressed to your mount. "Well, you should have considered that before ripping Daddy's shirt, hm? Be a good duckling or I'll make you cum even more than I plan," He says, a sadistic glint in his eyes as he kicks a long strip against your entire pussy.

"But I'm gonna fall asleep.." you whine, holding the sheets of the bed to yourself tightly. You try to push him away, you really do! Even going as far as to shock him on the arm with your (weak) powers. Though, this all doesn't appease Lucifer. If anything it makes him more ravenous to eat all of what he can from your pussy. This all amounts to his own powers keeping you still, a throb of a sort of ache-y pain entering you.

"Well if you do, I guess I'll just keep going. I didn't teach you to resist punishments like this, little ducky.."

Once again, he dips his tongue into your hole, fucking his tongue into you for a moment before going back to teasing your clit. It just goes like that, he'll suck, bite, lick your clit and then fuck you open with your tongue.

You can't even begin to recall how many times you came. 5? 8? 10!!?? By the time you awoke your pussy felt moderately used. And yet it was all worth it when you awoke nestled against Lucifers chest, his light snores filling your ears.

(not proof read!)

[hoeforhao]

RED AND CREAM ✨️🧨🎈🩸Wonwoo Oneshot

pairing : military official wonwoo × fem!reader

genre : pwp, pure smut

warnings : mention of blood, unprotected sex ( wrap it up guys ) , creampie, abusive talks, minors DNI

author's note : so umm I kind of wrote this smut for someone but then thought why not post it with wonwoo in mind. Bear with the he(s) pls.

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

As he stood there looking at her with dark clouded eyes with his hair all messed up from the intense fight, blood dripping down his knuckles onto his black boots, she saw the devil in him. The devil staring at her, telling her that he has finally came for his daughter. That he has finally found his worthy offspring to spread his bloodied rays into the world.

Stepping close to him, she looks into his red burning eyes as if she's gonna light him up on fire that very moment, as if she's going to draw out those popping veins in his eyes with her red nails.

Pushing his legs apart with hers she stands between them with her black heels on while her hands take his fist in hers and gently swipe off the blood off of them with her fingers and put them into her craving mouth, gently sucking onto them as if giving him the temptation of how she would treat his dick so good yet so rough between her cavities.

All this time her knees move up and down his already tightening up crotch, sometimes pushing it a bit too hard earning muffled up moans from him. Because he's a man. He cannot show how weak and needy his woman is making him feel now. Being done with sucking off all of his enemy's blood and injecting it into her system, her hands now move upto his neck to hold it tight and firm in place while her lips curve up into a satanic smile.

She quickly brings her mouth up to the bone protruding so prominent out of his neck and instantly plants her teeth onto the skin, pulling it with her canines making tears swell up in his eyes from the intense sting.

"If you thought I'll let his blood infuse into kine and make me impure, you're so wrong honey. I'll make sure that yours takes control on his and completely overpowers him. I want to see you overpower each and every individual on the face of this planet and be at the very top" and with that she bites into his skin at animalistic force and draws out blood like a vampire feasting on its meal after ages. As if a blood thirsty demon got the first taste of vanilla sweet blood burning with rage finally on her lips, all the while he cannot touch her or do anything to her because he was pinned down.

But she very well knew that she would be overturned in a minute if he truly tried for it. Having had enough of his woman being a brat he finally engulfed her legs by his and pushed her down onto the floor. He stood tall before her, while she lay on the cold marble with a sinister smirk knowing quite well what was coming next.

Bending down to her level the very first instinct he had was to rip off ever piece of clothing from her body, making her completely naked infront of the beast that was now to feast on the vulnerable little prey infront of him. Having his legs placed on both sides of her shaking ones, he took her lips in his. And no it was not a gentle kiss at all. It was a hungry, desperate one. One to prove how he will always have the upper hand over her, how she will just be a playtoy under him.

While his teeth pulled onto her lower lips, popping the slender veins there making blood drip down the corner of her mouth, his hands played with her boobs. More appropriately abused them. His nails drew deep and sharp around her supple jiggly skin, leaving behind deep rooted tracks of his invasion onto her body and soul and mind.

Shifting from her lips, he now focuses on slapping the living shit out of her breasts, earning constant pleas of mercy from her, knowing that the undertone in them was nothing but her asking for more brutality.

When he's finally done abusing her chest, leaving it all red with his hand prints, as if something turns in him and he gently places his mouth on her nipples and suckles onto it like a child feeding on his mother. But oh well isn't his entire persona deceiving? While his mouth work like a complete gentleman around her mounds, his fingers find her throbbing clit and aggressively rubs it's like it's some sort of enemy he needs slain down.

Her eyes rolled from the intense pain and pleasure that her body was feeling at the same time. She licks off her own blood from her mouth and slightly pushes up her head as if to see what is happening to her bare body, only to find that it's a red hill down there. Every part of her skin is burning aflame. And in that very painful moment, he quickly unzips the tent in his pants and brings out his rock hard dick to now graze up and down her sloppy cunt.

Never giving her the pleasure to feel him inside her, while she claws out his toned back, he slaps the tip of his dick onto her throbbing pussy and sometimes teases her hole with it by pressing it a bit down and taking it out immediately. Not being able to take the torment anymore she takes things into her hand and harshly slaps him across the face.

That was his last string. How dare a bitch have the audacity to slap a man like him. And with that he presses himself in her in seconds without any warning, without giving her the time to even adjust to him.

"You wanted it so bad you whore hmm? How you like daddy's dick tearing up your walls into shreds now huh" he runts into her soft delicate hole like a complete animal gone feral, like a tiger getting a good meat after days.

He could see tears rolling down her eyes onto the floor from his intense thrusts, him completely ruining her pussy for the new few days so that she remembers he is who she belongs to, every inch of her body belongs to him and is only for him to ravish and eat and feast on.

With one more push down her cunt, he feels his high riding him as he releases all his anger, frustration into her, making his cum ooze out of her swelled up walls, mixed with some traces of blood from the intense abuse.

[pasukiyo]

I CAN SEE YOU

bodyguard!leon scott kennedy x f!popstar!reader word count; 1,381 warnings; p in v sex, that's about it lol, maybe angst if you squint summary; leon doesn't believe he's good enough for you. but even he can't resist when he has you up against the wall of a storage closet five minutes to showtime...

 “Five minutes to show time!”

 “Has anyone seen her?”

 “Where is she?”

 Her lips parted in a gasp as she etched crescent moons into his shoulders through the black muscle tee, toes curling as her legs snaked around his waist, trapping him in closer. A hand slithered its way to the hair at the nape of his neck, her head falling forward to press her lips against the shell of his ear, feeling him shudder as he rocked his hips into her. 

 “We shouldn’t…” Leon groaned and muttered a sharp “fuck!” when she clenched around him, drawing him in closer. He couldn’t pull away even if he wanted to. “…we shouldn’t be doing this.”

 She mewled beside his ear at a particularly rough thrust, curling her fingers around a fistful of dark blonde ringlets at his nape and tugging. Leon pulled his face away from her shoulder, his dark sea of blue surging into her gaze like a comet colliding into a planet. Despite his words, Leon’s fingertips burrowed further into the flesh of her hips, her skin swelling with bruises as he drove his cock harder into her, impossibly deeper all the while. They’d only five more minutes to finish, and there’d be no way Leon would be able to do his job if he didn’t get his release now. 

 “When will you quit acting so noble?” She managed to ask between gasps and stifled moans, nuzzling the bridge of her nose against his. “Like you don’t want this as much as I do?”

 Leon hissed a string of curses through his teeth and she caught his lips with hers before he could drop his forehead to her shoulder again. Leon groaned into her mouth, allowing himself to be lost in the battle between their tongues for a moment, for just a second. Her smile was a crescent against his mouth and she leaned forward, hoping to deepen the seal of their lips before he pulled away, panting as he pistoned himself as deep inside of her as he could go, driving her back up the wall in the process. 

 “Leon!” She gasped, brows knit in pleasure as his hips stilled, the head of his cock pressed so hard against the spongey spot inside of her that she was seeing stars. 

 “You smeared your lipstick,” he replied simply and she peeled her eyelids back open just as Leon reached out with his thumb, wiping at the smeared makeup on the side of her mouth. Her bottom lip quivered at his touch and Leon peered up at her through hooded lids, sweat beading his hairline and chest heaving in rhythm with his breath. 

 For a moment, all was silent. For a moment, they only looked at each other, the moment so tender and intimate and such a stark difference from just a few seconds ago. Her heart swelled in her chest the longer she looked at Leon and she let her hands fall from around his neck, to his shoulders, to the chest of his dark ‘BODYGUARD’ muscle tee. She could feel his heart pound beneath her fingertips, beating to the same rhythm as hers. Leon’s bottom lip twitched, as if words hung on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be released until they were interrupted by a sound coming from outside the storage closet door. 

 “TWO MINUTES TO SHOWTIME! WILL SOMEBODY PLEASE FUCKIN’ FIND HER BEFORE I LOSE MY GODDAMN MIND?”

 She released the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding in and Leon blinked, bowing his head down between her legs where they were connected, the base of his cock glistening with her slick. He inhaled a shaky breath as she used her legs around his waist to draw herself in closer, wrapping her arms back around his neck. Leon gazed down at her with those enigmatic eyes that held the darkest of oceans, so inviting, she found herself diving in nearly every time she looked at him. 

 “Kiss me?” She asked, shuddering as she inhaled. Leon’s gaze softened, eyebrows furrowed as he cupped her cheek with one strong hand, holding onto her elbow with the other. He drew her lips back into his where they belonged, beginning to rock his hips into hers again as their tongues danced around one another. 

 Warmth flooded her cheeks as he picked up his pace, his thrusts harder and more purposeful than they were only a moment before. Her lips parted in a gasp, breaking their kiss as her forehead fell onto his, tears brimming the outskirts of her sockets. 

 “Leon, I’m so close,” she whispered, mewling as that knot tied deep in the pit of her stomach began to shudder, ready to shatter. Leon nodded against her forehead, a soft curse tumbling from his full, pink lips. “I know,” he murmured back, his grip on her elbow tightening as he thrusted again and again and again, certain to leave a bruise on her cervix. 

 She could feel tears tip over the glassy barrier in her sockets as bliss washed over her body, her toes curling, her muscles twitching, legs shaking. Leon cursed again as he, too, met his end, hot spurts of his cum filling her up in ropes, painting her white. 

 “ONE MINUTE TO SHOWTIME!” She could hear someone yell from outside the door and despite her aching limbs and her sobbing pussy, she softly pushed Leon away just as he snapped her panties back into place. She mewled when the material hit her sore clit, a quiet “sorry” falling from his lips as he worked his pants back up his thighs.

 She fixed her stage outfit and Leon helped her down from the shelf he had fucked her into, helping adjust the strap of her top on her shoulder. She looked up at him and after a moment, he met her stare. 

 “Well?” She said. “Do I look okay?”

 “THIRTY SECONDS TO SHOWTIME!”

 The corner of Leon’s lips curved into a soft smile, the most tender she swore she’d ever seen him look before, “you look like a star.”

 Lights blinded her as she rose from beneath the stage, the crowd like an echo behind her earpieces. She sang the first note into her microphone, closing her eyelids shut as the bass rumbled in her chest. She was on the stage now, a limelight finding her as she faced the sea of screaming fans and phone lights. 

 “You brush past me in the hallway and you don’t think I, I, I can see you, do you?” she sang the opening line, swaying her hips to the beat, pointing into the crowd as she pranced upon the stage. The ache between her legs was still evident but she pushed thoughts of sex and Leon to the side, letting herself be swayed and taken away by the music. 

 She sang lyrics she remembered writing deep into the night in a dimly-lit hotel room after Leon had forced himself out of her bed to leave, insisting he was no good for her and she deserved better. The memory of that night still haunted her, especially when she sang these lyrics. 

 “But what would you do if I went to touch you now?” She sang low into the mic, snapping her palm against her hip to the soft beat. “What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a… so-ow-ound?”

 She made her way to one side of the stage as she sang the beginning of the chorus, eyeing the edge of the platform where she knew Leon would be, his back turned to face the crowd. 

 “And I could see you up against the wall with me. And what would you do, baby, if you only knew?” Her lips curved into a smile against the microphone as she stared into the back of Leon’s dark blonde hair. “That I can see you.”

 Although his back was to her, she still had the premonition that he knew she was right behind him. She brought her mic down to her hip and turned, hair whipping behind her as she began a slow strut to the other side of the stage. 

 She had the strange feeling that he knew she could see him. 

a/n; so here's another fic i've had drafted since literally july and only just now got around to finishing it LMAO my first leon fic! i've been wanting to write for this man for years now but only just now got around to it...

TAGLIST;

@bxbyyyjocelyn

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[lipglossanon]

Day 24

Kink: Cock Worship

Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x Kitty!reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, hybrid AU, cock worship, dirty talk, blow job, ball sucking, deepthroating, throat pie, cum swallowing, pet names

not proofread

You’re an insatiable force to be reckoned with, something Leon found out immediately once you moved in with him. After retirement, Claire dumped you into his lap. Quite literally. He came home from stocking up on groceries, had just settled down on the couch with a beer and some shitty TV when Claire breezed in with a spare key— 

(“You know that’s for emergencies, right Redfield?”

“Your whole life is an emergency, Leon.”)

—set you down in his lap with a short introduction and headed out the door. 

Months later, he still hasn’t told her thank you, but then again she’s seen how much more relaxed he’s been so that must be thanks enough. 

Now however, he’s waking up to you nuzzling his dick through his briefs (for the third time this week). Your tongue bathes his thickening cock through his underwear, soaking it down until it’s molded around his dickprint. You chuff and whine, face pressed to his bulge as you rub your cheek against him. 

You don’t go any further and Leon’s hard as a rock, trying to keep quiet and stay still to let you have your way. Mewling, you suckle the tip that begins to poke through the leg of his briefs. His eyes practically cross as your rough tongue laps at his slit over and over, eagerly licking up the precum that’s beginning to drip from his tip.

“Kitten,” he groans out, gravelly with sleep. “Baby, I just woke up.”

You hum, sleek tail swishing behind you as your eyes gleam up at him from between his thighs. Without hesitation, you yank his briefs down, watching his uncovered dick flex. Burying his cock in your throat suddenly, he tries his best not to cum. One hand rakes through his hair as the other rubs across your ears. Whining, you slurp messily at his dick before pulling up. 

“Just wanted a taste,” you pout for a split second before your tongue lolls out to lap at his sticky tip. 

“Yeah? Fuck,” he groans. “My little kitten just wanted some cream.”

You moan, eagerly sucking his cock back into your mouth. It’s warm and wet, drool slipping from your lips as you bob your head up and down. The suction is to die for—he’s never had anyone give head half as good as you. Your rough sandpaper tongue laps up the precum and spit dripping down his cock before licking down to his balls. 

“Fuck, kitten,” he groans, spreading his legs so you can suckle and lick at his sac. “So good.”

You whine and gargle around trying to fit his balls into your mouth, saliva coating the thin skin. The vibrations from the noises you’re making has his cock leaking steadily, a puddle forming against his pelvis. Your eyes must light onto it because you pull back with a ‘pop’, his balls now shiny with spit, as you lick your way up his cock then to the puddle on his skin, lapping it up with a mewl.

“You got it all over your lips, baby,” Leon grunts, cock kicking and blurting more precum for you to lick up. “Such a messy girl.”

“Mmhmm,” your tail drapes over his legs, tickling the hairs. “But I’m your messy girl.”

“Y’sure are,” he pets your ears and you smile, sharp little teeth on display. 

With another swish of your tail, you drop open your mouth and swallow as much of as his cock as possible. He bucks up into your face and you moan, more of his dick sinking into your throat. Leon’s pretty worked up by this point, so it’s not long at all before his balls begin to draw up. 

“G’nna cum,” he groans loudly. “Fuck, gonna cream your tight fucking throat.”

Mewling, you bat your tear stained eyes up at him and relax your mouth to sink even further down on his dick. 

“Fucking, god—“

His cock kicks, ropes of cum spurting from the tip as you drink it all down. You pull your mouth up, letting him shoot the rest of his load onto your tongue, filling your mouth with his spend. After swallowing everything, you begin to lave your tongue across his softening cock, cleaning up anything you might have missed. 

“Thanks for the treat,” you nuzzle his pelvis, kissing the tip of his cock. 

[cevansbrat0007]

https://x.com/auxgod_/status/1854935706742706397?s=46

ari’s reaction if bird tried to walk out the house with this on 👀

Untitled Sweet Renegade Series Ask & Drabble

Please enjoy the Sweet Renegades Series Drabble found after the cut. Warnings include: Mature Themes, Implied Smut, Ari Being a Possessive Menace, Brat!Reader, Manhandling, Crude Language, and Cursing. Minors DNI.

Listen, Ari considers himself to be a rather progressive man. He has two sisters that he respects and adores. And a little niece that fills him with pride. He plans to teach his nephew about the importance of respecting women - of treating them with the utmost reverence and care.

However, the moment Ari laid eyes on his sweet, stubborn little Bird, it was if something in him snapped. It came from somewhere deep. Primal. And the beast in him demanded that he stake his claim. Before her, Ari had never really considered himself to be the possessive type. He just assumed that jealousy wasn't a part of his makeup.

But now? Her smile. Her laugh. Her light. Every delicate inch of her gorgeous curvy body. All of it belongs to him. In the most primal, feral sense.

And he does not like to share.

So, while he wants to encourage Bird as she continues down the path of consistent, healthy body positivity, he's also man enough to admit that that there's no way in hell he'd let her fine ass out of the house wearing a dress like that. And here's why:

"Baby..." He rasps, caging you in as he backs you against the door. "You look fucking stunning." Two thick fingers trail their way down your body, stopping once they reach the valley between your breasts. "But I'm afraid I can't let you leave. Not while you're wearin' that."

"What's wrong with it?" Your words come out as a gasp when you feel a hand wind its way into your curls, holding you still as he continues his assault. The seconds drag on as his head dips, his mouth finding yours.

"Because, sweet Bird." Ari presses, forcing you to take his delicious weight. Making your pulse spike as he grinds his increasingly hard cock against your abdomen.

"B-because?"

"Because..." He draws out the word as he wrenches your head back so that he can whisper maddening little love bites along the curve of your jaw. "This is the kinda dress you wear when you're out with your man." You have a hard time breathing as his free hand skims lower before coming to rest on the swell of your bottom.

"Oh yeah?" You continue to goad - against your better judgement.

To be honest, you'd known what you were risking when you saw the dress hanging on the rack. You had no business playing with fire. But that's part of what made all of this so fun.

"Absolutely." Ari's normally bright blue eyes darken with arousal as he watches your chest heave. Almost as if he's imagining what it might be like to slowly peel the garment off you, piece by piece. "Because these hips and that ass - they're enough to give a man ideas."

His soft lips find their way to your ear, his warm breath making you shiver.

"And when they start wantin' to entertain those ideas," he muses, more to himself than you. "I need to be there as your man to shut 'em down."

"I see." A sharp nip of teeth has you clenching your thighs together.

"Because I am the only man who's allowed to know what it's like to bury myself between those luscious thighs." Using two fingers, he tips up your chin, wordlessly demanding that he look you in the eyes. "And only I get to know what you taste like when you cum on my tongue. Which therefore makes me the only man with exclusive rights to your tight, little pussy."

"Okay Beast." You can't help the giggle that bubbles its way out of your throat. "I think you've made your point."

"Have I, little Bird?" He growls, releasing his grip on your chin to capture your wrists, trapping them above your head. "Or do I need to remind you that I'm not the sharing type?"

The steady tick in his jaw lets you know that you and your dress have once again pushed this man to the edge. But the real question was...

Just what did you plan to do about it?

Batting your lashes up at him, you decide it's time to let the brat in you win out once and for all. Go big or go home, you know?

"Eh, it's been awhile, big guy." You purr, catching your bottom lip between your teeth. "I'm thinkin' you might need to refresh my memory."

END

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[cyripticchronicler]

Hiii I have a request for Matt Murdock I was thinking him with an reader who’s job has gotten more stressful and it starts to get to them they get dizzy and lightheaded but brush it off until it happens around Matt and he can sense that it happened and he gets all protective and caring

Preferably fem reader but gn is also totally fine so everyone can enjoy it !

If this isn’t your cup of tea I totally get that !

In His Arms

Thank you for requesting, sweetie. I kind of went off track a little and I'm sorry :( (If you want me to rewrite it I happily will!) But either way, I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Summary: Overwhelmed by your growing workload and the pressure to prove yourself, you keep your struggles hidden—even from Matt. When the stress leads to a breakdown, he pulls you back, reminding you that love means sharing the load.

TW: Panic attack, mentions of anxiety, pet names (I can't help it), swearing

Masterlist

Stress was a familiar feeling to you. Its sharp claws seemed always to be gripping onto you tightly. You’ve learnt how to manage the lack of air in your lungs and the painful squeezing of your heart whenever you go through a rough patch. 

That’s why the feeling of anxiety creeping up your spine was carelessly ignored. You regret that you shrugged the feeling away, too focused on your work. It’s much easier to calm your bones' nervous trembles before it worsens. 

But now it’s too late. 

You’ve been so distracted by your work. Your colleague had just gone on maternity leave after giving birth to twins. You weren’t sure what would happen to her workload, but you certainly didn’t think it would all be passed down to you. 

Now all your brain can seem to focus on is the deadlines coming closer by the minute. They flash in your mind each time you consider taking a break. You never take a break - this is your one chance to prove to your boss that you’re ready to take on more responsibility. The rumours floating around the office of potential promotions, motivating your hard work ethic. 

You’ve always been a hard worker; had always been distracted by what you consider important rather than what was essential- like eating, or sleeping. Each time you got away with it. You didn’t have anyone to look after you. 

Until Matt came along. 

He’s such an attentive man and would be even without his heightened senses. You knew he’d be worried about your desperation to complete your work, completely gone to the rest of the world as your stomach grumbled louder and your under eyes got darker. 

He’s a natural worrier. That’s what compelled you to keep your stress a secret. It’s hard lying to a human lie detector,  so you’ve taken to avoiding instead. It’s easy to avoid him when you’re so busy, anyway. A couple of messages per day seems to keep him subdued for now and you’re glad; it’s all the attention you could offer.

Your lip is pulled between your teeth, chewing hard enough to draw the taste of metallic blood. None of the words before you make sense through your blurry eyesight. As you attempt to read the same sentence for the third time, you angrily rip off your glasses and groan. 

Black spots take over your vision as you rub at your eyes aggressively, hoping the sickeningly dizzy feeling that’s making your throat feel tight will go away. It’s useless, yet you only allow yourself a second break before gulping down some water and returning to work. 

Your phone rings as soon as your fingertips touch the keys of your laptop and a curse slips out of your mouth before you can stop it. You hate yourself for the spark of annoyance that has your blood boiling when you read Matt’s name on your phone. 

He’d already left three messages from before. As well as a voice message that you hadn’t yet listened to; you were practically forced to answer the phone so as not to draw concern. You’re determined not to burden him with your issues - he’s a vigilante for God’s sake, he doesn’t need your petty problems on top of his own. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.” His deep voice crackles through your phone speaker. Instantly, your shoulders relax and your eyes flutter shut. He’s the bright sun during cold days, the flowers during winter; beautiful and everything you long to see.

“Hey, Matt.” You respond lazily, mustering up enough energy to open your eyes and read the words on your laptop screen. You use one hand to type while the other holds your phone to your ear. You can hear his smile in his voice. “I’ve barely talked to you all day. I thought you were coming to mine for dinner. Did you get my voicemail?”

Guilt nags at your stomach. “I’m so sorry, Matt,” the little sigh you can hear through the other line has your heart splintering, “I’ve just been so busy with staying on top of my work as well as Mara’s-”

“It’s okay. I know how busy you’ve been. I could come by with dinner. I can do some work while you do yours.” You hate to diminish the hope in his voice, but you know he'd be worried about your obvious stress as it shines through in your old clothing and unbrushed hair (not that he’d be able to see but feel). 

“Can we do a raincheck?” You whisper, guilt nagging at your stomach. His voice is so sweet. So understanding. It makes you want to cry. “Of course, baby. Try to eat, please. And take breaks. I’ll call you tomorrow; maybe we can go out for lunch.”

“Maybe,” If I’ve got enough work done, “Love you.”

“Love you too.”

You drop your phone on your lap as soon as the call ends. For once, you’re thankful for the large amounts of work, as it distracts you from the guilt that claws and tugs at your skin. 

⚝⚝⚝

The second time Matt calls, you’re nose-deep in paperwork that was slammed down on your desk. ‘More of Mara’s work,’ your boss said before leaving you with the rasing anxiety in your chest. Thoughts of taking your lunch break didn’t even assimilate in the blurry haze of your mind. 

Only the shrill ring of your phone brought you out of your bubble of work. Sighing, you don’t bother to check the name before picking it up, as you already know who it is. “Hey, Matt.” Your hand still scribbles words on the paper, phone pressed awkwardly against your ear by your shoulder.

“Hey. I called to see if you wanted lunch, but you sound busy.” Unlike last time, his voice doesn’t soothe your racing heart. If anything he makes it worse. “I’m so sorry,” you hope he can hear the sincerity in your voice, “I miss you. As soon as the crazy amount of work has subsided, I’ll call you.”

“Is there any way I can help?” You can’t help but smile at his caring nature, wanting nothing more than to be with him. But you know if you went to lunch you’d be too focused on work to be good company. “Remember that I love you?”

His laugh makes your heart melt, anxiety melting away with it. “Of course. As long as you remember that I love you. I won’t call so I don’t distract you from your work, but please take care of yourself. I love you so much, honey.”

“I love you too.” You hang up the phone and instead of returning to work immediately, you just sit there in silence, staring at the piles of paperwork in front of you. The sting of unshed tears joined by a nervous feeling in your stomach is enough to make you want to throw up. You’re so tired. 

You should have listened to your body. You should have gone out for lunch and taken a break. But instead, you got back to work, ignoring the bright red signs of a panic attack on the rise. 

⚝⚝⚝

Having been diagnosed with anxiety when you were younger, you’ve learned to identify signs of an upcoming panic attack. First, you begin to feel dizzy, then a little lightheaded. Your heart begins to hurt, and your stomach starts to turn. Then you can’t breathe, and you’re scratching at your skin to give your lungs more space to breathe. 

Now, as you stand in your kitchen, staring at the piles of paperwork that cover the dining room table, it’s hard to ignore how your body reacts to the sight of the never-ending workload; the feelings you so carelessly ignored before forced to be brought to attention. 

Your eyesight is unfocused, and you are unable to concentrate on the hand you’re using to prepare a small dinner. Your hands violently shake by your side and feel incredibly weak. But that isn’t what worries you; it’s the lack of air entering your lungs that has your eyes squeezed shut. 

Feelings of worthlessness travel up your throat and block your airways. You’re having a panic attack. The realization has you sliding down the fridge and to the floor, tears running freely down your flushed cheeks. You bring your knees to your chest, hands scratching at your throat as if it would allow air into your beaten lungs. 

Your body feels so weak, you’re sure you wouldn’t be able to stand up if you tried. You’re lost to the darkness and anguish the past weeks have wrought upon you; lost to the cruel insecurities your mind created to fool you into this vicious despair. 

No matter how hard you cry, how hard you claw and scrape at your skin, you still can’t breathe. Hopelessness washes over your chilled skin, pulling you into its shadows. You can do nothing but let it take you as its own, the fight for air warring off as you succumb to the darkness that spots your eyes. 

And as your eyes flutter shut, you fail to notice the opening of the window in the living room. You fail to notice the hurried steps and the gloved hands that hold your face gently. Or the man’s desperate calls of your name. 

⚝⚝⚝

The first thing you notice when you regain consciousness is the exhaustion that wracks through your frail body. The second thing is the man who lays next to you on your bed. 

Matt. 

He’s sleeping peacefully, chest moving up and down in slow breaths. You frown, unsure of why he’s here. The last thing you remember was you freaking out about the workload and having a panic attack. You must have fainted from the lack of air, you consider then immediately cringe. How embarrassing. 

“What are you thinking about?” You jump at the sound of Matt’s deep voice, eyes shooting up to watch a small smile grace his face at your reaction. “Why are you here?” The question comes out ruder than you intended, but Matt’s smile doesn't waver. 

“I was on patrol,” he begins, pulling you into his warm embrace, “and figured I’d stop by to check on you. I wasn’t going to come in, just listen-”

“-that’s not creepy at all-”

“-then I heard you panicking. Your heart was beating really fast and you were breathing really heavily. You were already passed out from lack of air by the time I was inside.” He pulls you in tighter like the moment still haunts him. You trace your fingertips gently down his bare arm, ear against his chest as you listen to his heartbeat. 

“What happened, sweetheart?” He asks when it became clear you weren’t going to speak. You sigh. “I’ve been a little stressed lately. And I should’ve listened to my body but I didn’t. There’s just so much work and such little time. I can’t handle all of this workload.” The familiar bite of tears has you shoving your head in Matt’s neck, letting him hold you tightly and reassure you that everything will be okay. 

“Why didn’t you tell me? We could have worked through your stress together,” He questions quietly and you shake your head in response. “You take the burden of everyone else’s problems, and still go out every night to face all the bad guys- I just didn’t want to burden you with my problems on top of all the rest.”

He pulls away and you try not to frown at the lack of contact. Slowly, his fingers move under your chin and compel you to look into his beautiful, unfocused eyes that sparkle in the city lights shining through your windows. “You are not a burden. Your problems are not a burden. I want to be here for you. I want you to tell me what’s going on in that smart little head of yours-” He flicks your forehead playfully before giving it a small kiss “-And I want you to know you can talk to me.”

You nod your head slowly, feeling like a child that’s just been scolded. “Okay.” He lays there in silence for a moment, seemingly contemplating his words before he speaks, “I think you need to talk to your boss,” you open your mouth to protest but he cuts you off with a gentle squeeze, “This amount of work isn’t healthy. I mean, why hasn’t the workload been separated and passed around to all of your co-workers? It’s fucking stupid if you ask me. She’s obviously taking advantage of your brilliance-”

“-Matt,” You cut him off with an amused smile. His eyes glint at the sound of your giggles as if that was his mission all along and he won first place. 

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me. If anything I’m being selfish.” He grins cheekily, kissing your palm as it raises to cup his cheek. “And why, pray tell, are you being selfish?” Your smile is sly and knowing. 

“Because I’m doing this to get my beautiful girl back and into my arms. Foggy isn’t as good company as you, y’know.” You giggle, holding him tightly as your mind settles on a decision. “I’ve missed you too.”

Tomorrow you’ll call your boss and ask for a lessened workload. But for now, you’re just going to lay in bed with the man you love dearly and let him hold you tightly. 

[rs-hawk]

Sorry for the delay in Day Four! I’ll be posting Day Five soon as well. Also, I only have one more spot for the BATB Week since I still have one ask in my box, so if you want yours done, hurry and submit it!

CW: this post contains graphic depictions and smut. This is intended for an 18+ audience. Knotting, excessive cum, talks of pregnancy, etc

After Beast drug his cock in and out of his pretty captive’s cunt, he was pulsing and throbbing, so close to bursting. She was hiccuping as fat tears of overstimulation poured down her face. For a moment, he just watched her whine and cry, her cunt stretched around just the tip of his cock. Her lower lip quivered as she looked up at him, her dark eyes glistening with the wet tears there.

“A-are you not going to knot me?” her voice came out as a whisper, her throat tight. She had never felt so full in her life. Part of her wanted it to never end, and if he knotted her, at least that would delay it.

He smirked, lowering his mouth to her face, his large tongue licking up her face to taste her tears, before asking, “do you want me to?”

All she could do was nod, and in seconds, he had stuffed himself back into her warm hole, his knot forcing its way inside. She grabbed onto his arms, the fur somewhat comforting as she tried not to cry out. He grunted as his knot finally popped inside of her, his cum filling her to the point that her stomach slightly extended.

To her surprise, he kissed her. His sharp teeth grazing her lips and cheeks as his lips consumed hers. He no longer tasted of her, instead he tasted of his own desire. The smell of his sweat and fur overwhelmed her just as his lips and tongue did. She arched her back slightly, her fingers now tangled in the fur of his neck. He was trying to be gentle. She could tell. His lips worked over hers with cautious care, and his tongue barely explored her mouth this time.

After the kiss, he picked her up, still stuck on his knot. He sat in the chair, holding her in his lap. A hiss escaped her lips as she was forced down on his knot, her eyes squeezing shut at the fullness. If she had thought he was stuffing her before, then this was him setting her close to bursting. However, he drew her against him, wrapping his large arms around her small frame.

With a smile, she buried her face in his fur, soothed by the warmth of his fur and body. Just as she was starting to doze off, his knot had gone down enough for him to pull out of her. She assumed he would be satisfied, or at least tired, but instead she realized quickly he was grinding his once again fully hard cock against her clit.

When she whined, fidgeting in his lap, it was like a switch in him flipped.

Before she knew it, she was on her hands and knees, his long claws holding her hips up as he was lining his cock up with her cum filled hole. Just as she found her voice, he bottomed out inside of her roughly, forcing his entire length into her.

He was like an animal, which she supposed he sort of was. He dropped to all fours, supporting his weight on his palms which were slammed onto the wooden floors on either side of her face. The creaking of the floors could barely be heard over the sound of his knot slamming against her lewd cunt with every thrust.

All she could do was moan and push back against him, though even that she barely could. He was fucking the air out of her with how fast he was going, and in this position, it felt like his tip was reaching her lungs. His back claws were scraping the floor as adjusted his footing to be able to slam himself inside of her faster.

As her tight walls pulsed around his cock, signaling she was once again close to cumming, he roared. That was all it took for her to cum on his cock again. This time it was so intense that it nearly locked poor Beast in place, his captive’s precious cunt trying so hard to milk his massive cock, drawing his cum deeper into her.

“That’s my girl. Mine. Mine,” he growled, snapping his teeth close to her ear. “I’m going to fuck this cunt until you can’t walk. You’re mine. That’s why you’re here.”

“I know. I know,” she babbled in agreement, limply reaching for his hands as she came down from her high.

“Tell me you love it. Ask me to fill you with my seed again,” he demanded, his thrusts becoming more erratic.

“I love it. I love it so much. Please knot me. I need you to cum inside of me again,” Belle begged, pushing back more against his cock now.

Beast snarled something she couldn’t hear, but in seconds, he was giving her what she wanted. Forcing his knot inside of her again, the tip of his cock buried against her cervix to dump his seed inside of her again.

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[son1c]

in a fit of what i can only describe as "pure madness," i wrote this entire thing from 12AM to 4AM last night. it's for 10verse. it's related to these drawings. i hope you like it

RETURN TO SENDER

Plants roared in the great forest of Boscage Maze. Not literally, of course. They didn't have mouths. But as vines whipped and branches slashed, sending a flurry of poisonous leaves exploding in every direction, one could be fooled.

Sonic and his friends-who-weren't-his-friends had to be mindful of jagged wooden teeth as they reached down from the treetops to snap at them. While passing by one such monster, Whirley nearly lost an ear, but was saved by Windthrow. It was hard work navigating the dangerous forest, but between Sonic's spindashes and Thorn Rose's hammer, they managed to bash their way through the foliage and into the deepest part of the Boscage.

This made the plants angry. Since they'd connected with a mind greater than their own, they'd learned how to feel. And now, the hive buzzed with its collective rage as it convulsed its million limbs.

Thorns shot out from the brush like arrows. Prim had to fold in her wings and drop down to avoid becoming Swiss cheese. Although, maybe that would've been preferable to the dirt and bugs crawling on the forest floor. She stuck her tongue out in distaste.

But it was too late to turn back now.

The heart of the Boscage was just up ahead--that much was obvious to Sonic. Sure, it was just as green as the rest of the forest, but the way the vines weaved around each other, creating a tangled nest of knotted foliage gave it away. That, and the sickly light of the Green Prism Shard leaking through the cracks.

With the killer plants hot on their trail, Sonic motioned for everyone to stop. Wasting no time, he curled into a ball and slammed into the wall of snarled vines at top speed. His sharp quills sliced through the plants with some trouble--because they were so thick--but his will was stronger than their defenses. After successfully sawing a door through the vines, he stood and turned back toward his companions.

"Did someone call a gardener?" he quipped with a wink.

Everyone rolled their eyes.

"Tough crowd," Sonic muttered.

But then the vines began to squirm. Realizing they were already starting to regrow, everyone hurried through the gap Sonic had created. It closed behind them shortly after.

Gnarly gulped. "You don't think they're gonna eat us, do ya? The a-a-aliens?"

Thorn Rose slammed the handle of her hammer down in front of her, making Gnarly jump. "We're as good as eaten if we don't fight back!" she snapped. "The Green needs our help. Without it, we're all alien food."

Gnarly grimaced, but didn't argue.

Halcyon turned to face Sonic. "Your plan is unlikely to succeed," he said matter-of-factly. "However, I will allow you to attempt it. Once. In the case that it fails, I will do whatever it takes to dispose of the Black Arms."

Sonic grinned. "One shot's all I need," he said confidently.

Halcyon considered this. After a moment, he nodded.

Sonic tried not to think about how much Halcyon looked like Shadow when he did that. Not like it mattered, anyway. Because they would save Shadow. Together. Right here, right now. No matter what Halcyon thought the odds were--Sonic would beat them like he always did.

Squeezing his hands into fists to hide their slight tremor, Sonic turned to the group and said, "Let's whack some weeds!"

The forest shuddered. Prim yelped as the ground seemed to shift beneath her feet. Windthrow and Whirley growled as the vines trembled, their hackles raised in warning. Gnarly looked like he wanted to bolt, but realized he'd probably be safer with the group than on his own, so he stayed where he was. Thorn Rose, Halcyon, and Sonic shared a look.

It must be him.

It must be Shadow.

A moment later, they were proven right. In the middle of the clearing in front of them, vines slithered apart like waves of snakes to reveal a dark form wrapped in flowers and thorns: Shadow. Or, what was once Shadow. His mind had been overwhelmed by the combined might of a billion plants--the Megaflora, as Halcyon had called them. The result of Gerald Robotnik's research. They were plants mixed with Black Arms DNA, and they were hellbent on planetary conquest.

Shadow opened his eyes, but Sonic knew it wasn't really him in control. The dark hedgehog locked eyes with his rival. "Earthling," he cooed. "You have returned to us."

Sonic wanted to jump into action right then and there, but his hastiness was what had gotten them in this mess in the first place, so he forced himself to act cool. "Yeah," he said casually. "What can I say? I just couldn't stay away."

Without looking away from Sonic, Shadow said, "You brought the others."

Sonic was surprised to hear disdain in Shadow's voice. So, the plants had finally gotten the hang of emoting, huh? Well, it didn't make them any less creepy. With a wave of his hand, Sonic replied, "Don't mind them. This is about you and me."

The vines squeezed tighter around Shadow. Sonic could see the thorns dig into his fur, drawing blood. Sonic had to keep talking in order to stop himself from abandoning his plan. "I get it," he said, a little tightly. "You missed me. I'd miss me too. Thing is, I did some thinking while I was gone..."

Shadow didn't move. Didn't blink. He just stared at Sonic, listening.

It seemed as though the whole world had gone quiet. Maybe it had.

"...And, well," Sonic continued, "I changed my mind."

Finally, Shadow reacted. He leaned forward, his body moving like a puppet on strings. "Is that so?"

Sonic stepped forward. Not too fast, not too slow. Deliberately. Shadow--but really, the Megaflora--tracked his every move. Good. That was what he wanted. "Uh-huh," Sonic said. He folded his hands behind his head calmly. Then, with a lopsided smile, he added, "I wanna stay here with you."

At last, Shadow left the center of the clearing. The Megaflora had gotten better at moving his body since the last time Sonic was here, but "better" was relative, and plants were never meant to walk in the first place, so was it really any surprise that now that they could, they did so with stuttering, jerky steps?

As Sonic watched Shadow come closer, his stomach twisted uncomfortably. But he kept his eyes on him. He didn't dare look away, especially not up and over the dark hedgehog's shoulder, where Thorn Rose and Halcyon now were. No, Sonic kept his eyes on Shadow just like he said he would. Because that was the plan.

When he was directly in front of Sonic, Shadow finally stopped his scary marionette-walk. Unfortunately, he did something even scarier next: he smiled.

"Do you take us for a fool, Earthling? These eyes are not the only ones that can see."

Thorn Rose gasped as eyeball-covered, alien vines suddenly shot up from the ground and grabbed her ankles.

"Loathsome vermin," Shadow said darkly. Then, he turned his attention back toward Sonic. Now, his voice was soft. Almost sad. "If only you could have seen... but no matter."

Vines anchored Sonic's feet in place as Shadow wrapped his hands around the blue hedgehog's throat.

"Your corpse will make fine company!"

Suddenly, Halcyon shouted, "Now!"

Windthrow tackled Shadow, and his superior size sent them both tumbling to the ground in a flurry of fur and foliage. Sonic, meanwhile, instinctively touched his throat. Oh, yeah. That was going to hurt later. But there was no time for that now--he shook his shoes free from the vines before Shadow could get back up.

Everyone was on the move. While Windthrow was wrestling with Shadow, the scavengers had taken to beating back the plants attempting to stop Halcyon and Thorn Rose from cracking open the cage of vines in the heart of the forest. Halcyon had transformed his jelly arm into a saw, while Thorn Rose used her hammer to block the vines from growing back. Soon, Halcyon was able to break through to the core, and from it he pulled out the glowing Green Prism Shard.

Shadow shoved Windthrow off of him. "No!" he roared, and it was like all the plants in the world did too.

But it was too late.

Halcyon threw the Shard. At the height of the chaos, it seemed as though time slowed down. Sonic watched as the Shard began to arc through the air before reluctantly tearing his gaze away from it. He turned instead toward Shadow. Using his super speed, Sonic snatched Shadow's wrist, hauled him up, and then with his free hand, he took the one chance Halcyon had given him.

And he didn't miss.

Sonic's fingertip connected with the Shard.

A brilliant flash of light filled the forest.

When it cleared, Sonic and Shadow were gone. But the sounds of the wailing Megaflora seemed to follow them through the Void, their agonized screaming licking at Sonic's heels, lamenting, "We almost had you!"

But Sonic didn't believe in "almosts". He kept a tight grip on Shadow as the two of them careened through the Void. It was the bright blue gate of No Place that swallowed them up, and after the suffocating green of the Boscage, Sonic welcomed it.

The portal spat them out in the sky, which was frankly quite rude of it. Sonic blinked, realized the two of them were now falling down instead of horizontally, and brought Shadow--who hadn't moved since he'd touched the Shard--into his arms. With any luck, they'd land on the same small island Sonic had discovered the first time he'd come to No Place.

It felt like they fell for a long time, but it was probably only 10 seconds. Sonic's spines hit the sand first, and it knocked the wind out of him, but not in a "linebacker just punted me across a football field" kind of way. It was more like a "shopping cart just hit me unexpectedly" way. In other words, because Sonic was tough, all he really did was let out a quiet oof.

"As far as landings go," Sonic said, "I'm gonna have to give that one a 4 out of 10. Forget about style points--we're totally beached!"

Shadow didn't respond. In fact, he still hadn't moved at all.

Sonic sat up, pulling Shadow up with him. Shadow's eyes were open, but they were glassy and unfocused, staring at nothing. Frowning, Sonic said, "Hellooo? Earth to Shadow?"

When Shadow still didn't respond, Sonic's grin faded. The blue hedgehog's nose twitched before he bent his head down, pressing one ear against the Ultimate Lifeform's chest, listening for a heartbeat--which he heard immediately. "Geez, Shadow," Sonic said after lifting his head back up. "You really had me going for a second there, bud. Trying to ruin my awesome rescue by..."

Sonic trailed off. He didn't want to admit it, but he was starting to get a little nervous, and he didn't feel like making jokes anymore. He just wanted Shadow to say something--anything. Because the longer he kept quiet, the more time Sonic had to think about why that might be.

Could his rescue have actually ended in disaster? Sure, he'd saved Shadow's body, but what about his mind? Was it still trapped in Boscage with those awful weeds?

Shadow blinked.

Sonic snapped out of his thoughts. In a small voice, Sonic asked, "Shadow...?"

Slowly, so slowly they would give molasses a run for its money, Shadow's eyes moved from staring straight ahead at nothing to looking up and over at Sonic.

"...Sonic."

Sonic's face lit up with a dazzling grin. He pulled Shadow into a hug, pressing his cheek against Shadow's in a way he knew was annoying and that Shadow would hate. Except, Shadow didn't push him away. Unlike the last time he did this in the Void, Shadow stayed still and let Sonic hug him.

For a brief second, Sonic worried that he had just imagined Shadow talking, and he was actually still catatonic. But thankfully, Shadow said something else, although his voice was a little muffled by Sonic's quills.

"I'm... free?"

Sonic pulled back so he could see Shadow's face. The dark hedgehog was looking down, his normally unreadable expression clouded with confusion and... something else. He still didn't move other than to breathe, almost as though he was afraid to do so.

For the first time, Sonic let go of Shadow. With his typical cocky attitude, he flashed his rival a thumbs up. "Yup!"

Shadow's expression grew more extreme. His hands shook as they reached out to grab Sonic, and in that moment Sonic realized what else was shining in Shadow's eyes: fear.

Sonic let Shadow pull him into an embrace. "Whoa, hey," Sonic said. "It's alright! Those weeds won't be bothering you anymore, Shadow. Promise."

Sonic felt Shadow's grip around him tighten. Then, Sonic realized with growing horror that his shoulder was getting wet. Wet from tears he couldn't see. He thought about how time flowed differently between the Shatterspaces, and how while he had only been separated from Shadow for a few days, Shadow had been alone with the Megaflora for much, much longer.

Sonic squeezed his eyes shut. However, he quickly set his jaw. The guilt could wait in line with his feelings about breaking the universe. He had something more important to deal with right now: Shadow.

"Sorry I was late," Sonic said quietly. "Didn't mean to make you wait, Shadow."

Shadow didn't reply, but Sonic could feel him press his face into his shoulder. So, Sonic asked, "Not up for small talk, eh?" Because he already knew he wouldn't get an answer, he continued, "That's fine. I got you."

Sonic watched the waves lap against the shore while Shadow cried. He didn't say anything else. There was nothing more to say. It was hard not to think about how he'd almost lost him, how Sonic was almost alone with nothing but the pieces of their broken world to pick up on his own, but Sonic didn't do "almosts". He just sat in the sand and rubbed his thumbs gently against Shadow's back.

Eventually, Shadow grew still. Sonic didn't want to move him, but when he didn't respond to his prodding, he did it anyway and found that he'd fallen asleep. Sonic could've said something about how they didn't have time for power naps, they had a world to save and a multi-verse to fix, but he didn't. The truth was, he was tired too. He hadn't slept since...

Uh...

Well, he wasn't sure how long it'd been. But if Mr. Ultimate Lifeform was tired enough to sleep, then he got a free pass for a nap too. That's how it worked, right? Come to think of it, did the Megaflora even need to sleep? They were plants, so probably not. But that would mean...

Sonic looked at the bags under Shadow's eyes and winced.

Without a word, Sonic laid Shadow down in the sand. Then, Sonic laid down too. The sun was setting on the horizon, and the first stars of nighttime were becoming visible in No Place's sky. Sonic thought that they looked identical to the stars he saw in Green Hill, but quickly stopped thinking it when his heart squeezed painfully.

Wait in line with the rest, thanks.

Eventually, the steady sound of the ocean foam lulled Sonic to sleep. Now, was it a good night's sleep? Was it free of awful dreams and fitful rolling? As a matter of fact, yeah, it was. He must've been exhausted because he slept like a rock despite all the baggage weighing him down.

In fact, when the stars faded and the pink-orange sun began to drift over the horizon, it was Shadow who woke up first.

Though, it was hard to tell, because he didn't open his eyes. For several horrible, horrible seconds, he didn't remember the events of last night, and he thought he was back in Boscage Maze. So, he waited. He waited for the Megaflora to tell him what to do, as they had been doing for the past month and a half. But their instructions never came. It was quiet inside of his mind, their raucous hissing absent.

He remembered what Sonic had said.

You're free.

Shadow opened his eyes. He was greeted by the beautiful blue ocean of No Place, so much nicer than the suffocating green of his old prison. After sitting up, he turned his head, and saw Sonic asleep next to him.

A cavalcade of unwanted thoughts rose to the forefront of his mind. All things that the Megaflora had wanted--had told him that he wanted--had forced him to want. Conquer the planet, kill the scavengers, save the Earthling.

But as it turned out, the "Earthling" had saved him.

Shadow swallowed thickly. It was difficult to put those thoughts out of his mind, to remember what was his and what was theirs. For what felt like an eternity, there was no difference. It was simply them. Theirs. We. Us.

Sonic's ear flicked in his sleep. Shadow stared at it.

"I'm Shadow the Hedgehog," he said to no one in particular. "I'm the Ultimate Lifeform."

A soft sea breeze blew across the tiny island. Sonic stirred. He cracked an eye open, then grinned. "’I'm the Ultimate Lifeform’," he said in his best Shadow impression.

Shadow scowled. He looked away from Sonic and out at the endless ocean. "Hmph."

"Back to your old self, huh? Good. I was starting to think I'd need to find a new rival!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Shadow lied.

Sonic sat up. "Aw, c'mon, Shad," he teased. "We're not doing the forgetting-important-events thing again. Once was more than enough! Besides," Sonic leaned in close to Shadow, "it's a lot more fun when you play along."

"This isn't a game, Sonic!" Shadow snapped.

"C'mon, dude. You're back. I'm feelin' good. What's wrong with a little--"

Shadow interrupted, "You still don't get it. We-- I--..." Shadow said again, putting heavy emphasis on that first word, "I saw things. All of their memories. These aren't just facsimiles of your friends; these are whole worlds you've created with your mistake."

Sonic grew quiet. After a moment, he asked, "So they're real now, huh?"

Shadow glared at Sonic. But then, all the anger drained from his face. He just looked tired. "The accursed Megaflora has been around for longer than my Project. I witnessed its conception and subsequent failure. It... is real. And the suffering it’s inflicted on Boscage Maze can't be denied."

Shaking his head, Sonic said, "Yeah, well, that's what they made you for."

Shadow tensed. But Sonic waved his hand and said apologetically, "Halcyon, I mean. The other, uh... you. He's supposed to fix it." Sonic cleared his throat awkwardly. "Now that you're outta there, those weeds won't last long. Don't sweat it!"

Shadow pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sonic, you..." He was aggravated. "No, I made things worse. They probed my mind. They have my intelligence. I couldn't... there was nothing I could do to stop them. They kept pushing until I..."

Broke.

"...It's okay, Shadow. Really."

"How can you say that?" Shadow was shouting now. "How can you possibly... understand?"

"I don't," Sonic admitted. Then, he patted Shadow's arm. "But I know you. And even a faker like Halcyon has gotta have some of you in him. And I know you don't take the easy way. You don't quit. So, it'll be okay. Cuz I trust you."

Shadow laughed bitterly. "You're still the same idiot," he said.

"Maybe," Sonic said with a shrug. "But I got you back. Right?"

Shadow's mouth went dry. He remembered--both through his own two eyes and the thousand eyes of the Megaflora--seeing Sonic fight against the immense might of the Boscage Black Arms. He conceded, "You did."

Sonic's mouth quirked up in a small smile. "And why's that?"

Frowning, Shadow searched Sonic's eyes for a hint of what the answer might be, but he couldn't figure it out.

Sonic didn't look away. "It's cuz I need you. I'm big enough to admit that."

The thought of having to fix the world all on his own was almost too much for Sonic to bear. He'd been faced with that awful reality while separated from Shadow, while Shadow had been suffering under the Megaflora's control. Thankfully, Sonic didn't have to see the reality of that "almost".

Sonic held out his hand to Shadow. "Let's fix this, Shadow. Together."

Shadow looked at Sonic's hand for a long moment. In the end, he took it and said, "Together."

[puck-luck]

two beds again | dawson mercer

warnings: somnophilia, sub!dawson, unprotected p in v, handjob, established!FWB/BFF!relationship pairing: dawson mercer x fem!reader requests: “absolutely obsessed with simpy, subby!dawson….. pls write more”, “I would love a sub! Dawson Mercer fic. I don’t think there’s enough of him and he’s such a precious boy” (thank u! @snowbunni, i want to make sure you see this after your request so i made sure you tag you xo), “him fucking her awake and then being all sweet and fixing the bed?” wc: 1039

You hear Dawson before you feel him, really. He’s whimpering, his mouth no doubt clamped shut as he tries not to wake you. He’s thrusting into you shallowly, trying not to move you too much. His cock is hard inside of you, surely having stiffened as he gained consciousness in the early hours of the morning. 

Dawson’s mouth smothers the skin behind your ear, his breath like a caress against the shell of the appendage. 

You let out a moan to alert Dawson that you’re awake. “Dawsy,” you say, twisting in his grip to get your mouth on his.

“Yes,” Dawson breathes out, voice breaking as he draws his cock out of your wetness and pushes back in. “Fuck, baby.”

“Been going at it long?” You tease, threading a hand through Dawson’s wavy locks. You arch your back, Dawson’s cock finding a deeper spot inside of you. 

Dawson lets out a tortured whine, burying his face into your neck. His hips move erratically. “No,” he admits.

“You’re close, aren’t you?”

Dawson curses under his breath, bringing a hand around your body to clutch at one of your tits, his grip near painful.

“You just can’t help yourself, Daws.” You chuckle softly. “Pretty girl in front of you and you just have to get your cock inside her, is that right? You need to take her, claim her?”

“No,” Dawson repeats, inching his other hand down to paw at your clit. “Just want to make you feel good. Need that.”

You bring his hand from your tit to the front of your throat. 

Dawson stills against you, his breath shaking with the effort to stave off his orgasm. His cock pulses inside of you and he pants like he’s run a marathon. Dawson’s fingers move against your bundle of nerves rapidly, slipping over the skin between your legs with his desperation.

You turn your head so you can look at him. His eyes are closed, fluttering. He’s sweating and his chest is rising and falling in laborious bursts. You lower your voice so that you’re whispering and relish in the way that Dawson leans into you, his lips just a breath from yours. 

“Do you feel how wet I am for you?” You ask. “Even when I’m asleep, you make me so wet, Dawson. You make me feel so good. You’re so good.”

Dawson’s teeth find your shoulder and bite down. His fingers tighten around your neck, then loosen into a gentle stroke. 

“Make me come.”

His hand flies over your clit, his hips starting up again. He fucks you with earnest, moans and whines escaping him along with indiscernible babbles, begging you to let go around him. He kisses your neck, sloppy and wet, like he’s fallen dopey in his desperation to make you come. He’s so focused on your pleasure, on getting his lips in contact with your skin and getting the taste of your sweat on his tongue, that he’s not even aware of the mess he’s become.

You come after only a few more thrusts, clenching down on Dawson’s cock. Your aftershocks rock him, but he manages to keep himself at bay. He pulls out of you slowly, the stimulation of your walls dragging over his member almost too much for him.

You turn to face him, placing your hand on his chest. You kiss him, his lips soft and shivering against yours. He’s still desperate. He’s still a mess.

Your other hand finds the base of his cock, wet with your juices. You use your own come to slick up his cock, pumping him with a firm hand, twisting around the tip. 

Dawson moans, his mouth falling open and staying there. The curves of his cheekbones are sharp, the dimple at the bottom of his chin begging to be kissed.

“My good boy,” you coo into Dawson’s ear. “I love how badly you want to please me, how eager you are when all you can think about is making me come.”

“I love you,” Dawson says, his voice the same as it is when he begs. His words bleed from his mouth, crumbling like a sandcastle under a stray wave. He repeats himself again, shivering under your touch.

“Show me,” you command softly. “Come, Daws.”

He comes over your hand, the white spurts dripping through your fingers and making the glide of your hand even easier. You continue to jerk him through his aftershocks, his hips jumping under your hand and sharp gasps leaving Dawson. 

“I love you too,” you whisper to Dawson, kissing over his cheek until you reach his lips. You unite with him in a smooth movement, petting over his stomach. His muscles tense under your hand and Dawson slips his tongue into your mouth. He’s lazy with it, feeling you with careful fingers. Little does he know, your petting over his stomach was more of a means of getting his come off of your hands and onto his skin, making him even more of a mess. All the more for you to tease him about later.

Again, Dawson repeats himself. “I love you.”

You close your eyes and smile, rubbing your nose against his. 

Dawson seems to take it as a shake of your head. “I do,” he insists.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” you say, changing the subject. “Now, you can fix the bed that you broke.”

“Will you help me?” Dawson asks, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him. The come on his stomach rubs against your belly and you glare at him– Dawson’s returning look is smug. He knew what you were doing all along and allowed it to happen.

“Absolutely not. I thought you were my big, strong man. I could have called anyone else, like I told you yesterday.”

Dawson blows a raspberry against your cheek. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Fix my bed and I’ll let you eat me out for as long as you want.”

It’s almost funny, the way Dawson scrambles out of bed and into the spare bedroom. He leaves you laying in your bed, fingers toying with the peaks of your breasts mindlessly as you hear the scuffle of a soon to be complete bed from the other room.

[sea-lanterns]

SWEET DESIRE

synopsis: genshin women who are biters!

featuring: miko, shenhe, rosaria, shinobu

rating: 18+ nsfw (minors dni)

warnings: gn! sub reader, no mentions of s.ex but highly suggestive, biting, licking, blood drinking, marking, possessiveness, jealousy, lots of teeth mention.

art credits: my food seems to be very cute

MIKO

When Miko bites, she bites hard. Her teeth are a lot sharper than a human’s, so whenever she sinks her teeth into your skin, it hurts. (In a good way, but maybe it was just the masochist in you…)

She’s quite rough, too. Very possessive as she often marks you up with her fangs especially. Fox canines are very sharp, yet she uses them on special occasions whenever she gets jealous or particularly frenzied. Just like how dogs get zoomies, Miko gets them too, yet in a very…different way.

You could tell Miko is just itching for a bite when her tail pops out and it’s flicking a lot faster than normal. The tips of her fangs peeking out from her lips, and the nail dents in her arms from squeezing herself too hard. She gets rather excited at the thought of seeing you, and it shows in the form of several, several, varying bites.

There are small bites, like little nibbles as she savors you like the snack you are. These ones are the cute ones, she usually does these to express playfulness and teasing.

Then there are bigger bites, ones that actually leave a dent and cause her to kiss it better when she sees it bruise. Her lipstick framing the bite like it was a piece of valuable artwork, as these ones are the passionate “I love you” ones.

Then, there are the feral bites. The ones where Miko literally opens her jaw to chomp on you as lightly as she can (for this one can make you bleed if she’s too violent) This bite occurs whenever she feels rather jealous or possessive, and she wants to remind you that you are with her and her alone. These ones bruise a lot, and sometimes draw blood when she’s not careful. 

But don’t worry…she’ll always lick it better to soothe you <3

SHENHE

Oh, Shenhe is shy, but absolutely unhinged when she wants you to herself. You’re not sure if it’s her rage or powers or what, but Shenhe can be quite the biter when she wants to be.

Now, keep in mind, Shenhe would never purposely hurt you. She loves you way too much to even fathom the thought! However, growing up with the adepti, meant she was taught some very…interesting techniques to show love to her partner… Well, they are quite ancient, so their courting practices can be a little outdated… 

Shenhe’s bites are quite strong, yet very stiffly controlled. When she gets a little antsy or just craves more attention from you, she starts grazing your skin with her mouth, making it seem like she was kissing your hand innocently, when really she’s raking the edge of her teeth over your fingers. 

You notice right off the bat, she’s looking at you through her lashes with that half-lidded gaze. You could tell that she just wants you right this moment, and if you don’t do something quick she’ll take a chomp out of your neck right there in public. (She hasn’t quite grasped the concept of public displays of affection…)

She’s very quiet when she bites you. Her lips are surprisingly soft (and very cold) whenever they brush against your neck. She’s shy at first, but slowly her movements are more precise. Not just brushing against your skin, but now leaving firm dents in certain spots just how you like it.  

If you shiver under her touch, she pauses, comprehends whether that was a pleasant or painful shiver, and resumes when she sees no signs of distress. She’s a gentle girl after all… <3

ROSARIA

Rosaria is mean. When she bites, she means it as a warning or way to keep you in your place. She’s probably the complete opposite of the other girls, as she wants it to hurt. (Sadist Rosaria canon)

Rosaria isn’t one to punish without reason, if she bites you there’s always a good reason why. You were being too whiny? Chomp. You were particularly rude in a response to her? Chomp. You just looked so attractive? Chomp.

This sounds a little…odd, but Rosaria gives me vampire vibes. And by that I mean she bites hard enough to draw blood and licks it. I’m not kidding, you have to have a higher pain tolerance with this woman as she quite literally enjoys the thrill of your pain.

When she punctures a small opening for blood, she holds you still and laps her tongue over the wound to savor the metallic taste. It looks and sounds eerie, but you can’t help but find the action attractive as she always makes sure to hold you tight.

She also bites from behind like a vampire, using her clawed hands to tilt your head back as she leans in quietly to stake her claim. The tips of her metallic nail guards gently scratching at your chin, as you feel a similar prickly sensation of her teeth on your neck.

In the end of it all, Rosaria really just loves you (and your blood, but that’s beside the point). In her eyes, if you’re red all over, it’s a sign of love… Whether it be a blush on your face, or your own blood dripping down her lips…

SHINOBU

Shinobu is so nice. Unfortunately, she has some insanely sharp teeth for a human that she covers up with a mask (personal headcanon). She’s a little self conscious about it, but when she smiles at you without her mask, you can’t help but adore how cute her teeth are. 

Shinobu is super careful when she kisses you or bites you. She’s extra gentle since she knows just how soft and sensitive your skin is, so everything she does to you takes time and care.

Her favorite place to bite you is your stomach. Unlike the other girls who usually go for the neck or collarbone, this girl pays some extra attention to your stomach. She honestly just really likes how soft the stomach area is, as the skin there is a lot more pleasant to kiss in her humble opinion. 

When she grazes your stomach with her teeth, it tickles a lot. They’re so sharp and pointed yet so gentle as she rakes them over slowly, analyzing your skin for the perfect spot to mark. Once she does however, you’ll know because she stops right above the area and smiles slightly. 

Shinobu’s bites are pinchy. They’re small, but wow do you feel the sting sometimes. They’re also extremely warm due to her tongue, as Shinobu has quite the long tongue that she uses to lick your bites raw and soothe the bruising to keep it from swelling. It works majority of the time, and wow does it feel good because she likes dragging it down your stomach to tease you.

In short, Shinobu really takes her time marking you. If anything, the more bites she leaves, the happier she gets. One thing you notice however, is that whenever she bites your stomach, you notice them trailing lower and lower until…

[macabr3-barbi3]

loved this one WHEW 💕🥵

Tags: Daddy kink, that's it, that's the whole fic

🩵❤️🩵❤️🩵

The first time Vox calls himself ‘Daddy’ while you’re fucking him you freeze up so immediately that he thinks he’s done something wrong. “Fuck, baby, taking Daddy so well,” he had muttered in your ear, and the sharp, sudden swoop of arousal in your gut had caught you off guard, moan choking off into a high pitched whine as your body went still. He looks down at you, expression twisted in concern as he realizes what he had said and blushes, pixels going pink. “Sorry, sorry,” he mutters, and resumes railing you as normal, hand slipping between your bodies to rub at your clit. You bite your lip as you cum to hold back the title, head thrown back while Vox finds his own release and you wonder what to do with this new information.

You keep your distance for a few days, keeping occupied with busy work- you paint the living room of your shared floor in Vee Tower, offer to help Velvette with one of her shows, make sure that Valentino’s actors have a steady supply of food and drink in the studio. You don’t let Vox touch you for a week, despite your obvious need and his growing frustration. Finally on Sunday, when he lets Katie Killjoy take over the evening news, he comes home to the trap you’ve set. As soon as you hear the elevator door open with a ding you let out a loud moan from the bedroom, a siren call for Vox to come in and see you spread across the sheets of the bed you share, skin bared and your fingers working tirelessly between your legs. 

“H- hey baby,” he manages to get out, a glitch flashing across his screen as he approaches, fingers reaching for you before he’s even close enough to the bed to touch. “Fuck, look at you- soaked and ready for me, huh?” He slides a hand down the length of your thigh towards your core, swearing under his breath when you grab his hand and guide his fingers to the slick folds of your cunt.

“Please, Daddy,” you whine, and his fans let out a wheeze in place of an actual breath as he crouches over you, his screen dropping for a moment so you’re looking at the back of it instead of his face. 

When he looks back up to you his eyes are narrowed, mouth hanging open and his tongue out- he drags it up the length of your body from pelvis to tits, letting his sharp teeth scrape the sensitive nipple before he pulls off. He presses a finger into you, then a second when he finds that you’re already open and desperate. “Goddamn, doll, you didn’t have to blueball me all week for this,” he mutters. “You could’ve just asked- Daddy’s gonna give it to you either way.”

There’s the feeling again, that sharp shock of pleasure and arousal at the term, pussy clenching hard around his digits. “Please, I need it,” you whimper, and he pulls his fingers from your body and curls his tongue around them, using his other hand to line his cock up with your dripping slit and pushing in with a sharp thrust. “Oh fuck-”

“That’s right, sweetheart, Daddy’ll take care of you,” he growls, hooking his arms under your knees and dragging you further towards the edge of the bed. “So fucking perfect for me, taking my cock- you like that?” He slams his hips into you, fucking you with the conviction of a man possessed. Your fingers fly down to the bed, digging harsh lines into the sheets with the pressure from your claws.

“God, please,” you beg, already close on your own, the hard length of him spearing you hurtling you ever closer to that edge. “Daddy- Vox, please,”

He snarls, sharp teeth snapping as he leans in closer and folds you nearly in half. “Should’ve known- I thought you froze up ‘cause you were didn’t like it, baby, didn’t realize you were embarrassed by how much you fuckin’ wanted it.” He angles your hips, drives himself into you harder, faster, the sounds of skin slapping echoing in the room along with the groans and whimpers that he’s drawing from you.

“Fuck,” you whine, the words tearing from your mouth- you can almost feel the wave behind your eyes , waiting to crest, searching for that final shove to break the tension. “Fuck, gonna- please, Daddy, I need it-” Every time you say it his hips jerk, shoving more forcefully into your wet cunt, claws digging into the flesh of your hips.  

Vox’s left eye swirls, no power behind it, just showing how overwhelmed he is as well when he lets go of your leg on one side to rub forcefully at the bundle of nerves above your drenched pussy, where he’s got you stuffed full of him. “Go ahead, beautiful, cum on Daddy’s cock, show me how pretty-”

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence, your keening cry as the pressure inside of you releases, drowning him out. Your soft walls clamp down on him, the rippling muscles pulling at the rigid length of his cock inside of you, coaxing him into his own orgasm right behind you. Your mind is fuzzy, but still aware enough that his grunts of “fuck baby, take Daddy’s cum, good girl” light up the pleasure center in your brain as he floods you in long pulses. His hips jerk and stutter against you until he finally collapses against you, screen pressed gently into your bare chest and leaving little kisses on your skin.

“Fuck me,” he says, and you can’t help but giggle, running your fingers over the little ports on the back of his head, relishing in his shiver at the touch. “Why didn’t you just tell me you liked it? You didn’t have to spring a trap.”

“God forbid a woman have hobbies.” He pulls out and flops onto the bed next to you, allowing you to roll and rest your head on his chest. “Besides, this was more fun.”

“You should greet Daddy like this after work more often then, doll-”

“Don’t fuckin’ push it,” you tell him, and his rumbling laughter where you’re pressed against him is relaxing, wrapping his arms around you in a firm, secure embrace.

[multifandomfix]

Leave You Wanting More — Morticia Addams

Summary: After you caught her eye, Morticia pays you a less than innocent visit in your dreams.

Word Count: 1,342

Warnings: Unresolved sexual tension, biting/marking, suggestive but no actual smut

You found yourself in a familiar place, yet it was not your own. The air was thick, charged, like the calm before a thunderstorm. Shadows danced along the walls, and the moon cast a silvery glow through the tall windows of a grand, gothic mansion. It felt vivid, more real than any dream you'd had before, but a dream nonetheless.

The scent of roses and something dark, almost intoxicating, filled the air before you even saw her. Morticia Addams appeared, as if conjured from the shadows themselves. Draped in her signature black gown, her movements were fluid, deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey.

"You've been on my mind," she said, her voice low and velvet soft, tickling your senses. She stepped closer, her presence making the room shrink around you. Her hand hovered near your cheek, her nails long, sharp, but she didn't touch you…yet. The tension between you crackled, almost unbearable.

"This...this is just a dream," you whispered, more to reassure yourself than anything else. You'd admired Morticia from afar, her elegance, her mystery, but she had always seemed untouchable. And yet, here she was, standing impossibly close, her breath mingling with yours.

"Is it," she purred, her lips curving into a knowing smile. She leaned in, her fingers ghosting over your arm, and a shiver shot down your spine. "Dreams can be so...revealing."

Her hand trailed down to your wrist, her touch still light, teasing, but every nerve in your body ignited under her fingertips. She tilted her head slightly, her lips brushing your neck, not quite a kiss, more of a promise of one. Your breath hitched, the sensation of her so real, so visceral, that it was hard to remember it was all in your head.

Her fingers curled around your wrist, nails biting in just enough to leave faint impressions on your skin. Her lips parted, grazing your skin again, but this time there was more pressure, a hint of teeth. You exhaled sharply, your hands instinctively finding her waist, but you hesitated, unsure of what was real and what wasn't.

"You feel that," she murmured, her lips still at your neck, her hand sliding down your arm to rest at your hip. "Dreams don't often leave marks."

Your heart pounded in your chest, a mixture of desire and confusion clouding your mind. Her touch was a slow burn, each lingering caress drawing you closer, making it harder to separate the fantasy from reality. She pressed closer, her body aligning with yours, and you could feel her breath against your ear, warm, tempting.

"I must say," Morticia whispered, her voice dripping with amusement. A dark little chuckle escaped her lips. "You wear your longing well." Her fingers traced your collarbone before skimming lower, and when she bit down lightly, playfully, and your body responded with a jolt, heat flooding your veins.

You gasped, caught between wanting more and wanting to wake up from this surreal encounter if only to be able to catch your breath. Her hands, her mouth, left an undeniable trail of sensations across your skin. You couldn't see the marks she left behind, but you could feel them. There were small scratches, bite marks, each one tingling with a dull ache that felt far too real for a dream.

She pulled back slightly, her dark eyes locking onto yours, holding you captive. There was a smug satisfaction in her gaze, as if she knew exactly the effect she was having on you.

"Tell me, darling," she whispered, "do you still think this is merely a dream?"

Her lips hovered over yours, and your breath hitched again, caught between wanting to close the gap and the nagging realization that something about this was too real, too intense. Her fingers curled into the fabric of your clothes, her nails grazing your skin just hard enough to send a delicious spark of pain through your senses.

Before you could answer, before you could even catch your breath, Morticia stepped back, her gaze never leaving yours. You blinked, disoriented by her sudden distance, and she smiled.

"Goodnight, my dear," she purred, all slow and sultry. Satisfied with the state she was leaving you in, she turned away, disappearing into the shadows she’d emerged from.

You woke with a start, your heart racing, your bedsheets tangled around your legs. Your body still thrummed with the lingering touch of her hands, the faintest traces of her nails on your skin. You reached for your neck, your wrist, half expecting to find the marks she left behind.

And there they were…tiny, faint, but undeniable.

Your dreams had often been vivid, but nothing like this. Even now, with the morning light creeping in through the curtains, your senses were still on fire. You sat up in bed, pulling the blankets closer, your mind racing through what had happened. The feeling of her nails, her lips, lingered as if she'd only just left. Every part of you that she'd touched still tingled, her phantom caresses refusing to fade with the waking world.

A quick glance at your wrist, where you felt her nails the deepest, showed small crescent shaped indentations. You rubbed at them, your heart stuttering at the undeniable evidence that you hadn't just imagined it. You could still feel her, like she’d truly embedded herself under your skin, reminding you that Morticia Addams had found you in your most vulnerable state and left her mark.

Shaking your head, you rose from the bed, trying to focus on the mundane details of your day. But as you dressed, the ache of those marks, the sensations her touch caused, refused to leave you alone.

Later that night, the dream returned, only this time, you were more prepared. The mansion, the heavy scent of roses, the thick, charged air. It was all as it had been. And so was she. Morticia appeared just as she had before, her form gliding through the shadows with a grace that was almost inhuman.

"You returned," she said as though the knowledge pleased her.

"Is it really you," you found yourself asking, the question barely a whisper. "Or just...another dream?"

Her dark eyes gleamed, a smile playing on her lips as she circled you, her hand trailing lightly across your back. "Does it matter, darling," she asked, each word like honey dripping into your ears.

You wanted to tell yourself it didn't. You wanted to surrender to whatever this was. But the more you felt her touch, the deeper the tension grew, the more desperate you became for an answer. Her hands slid over your arms, your waist, and she tugged you close, just close enough for you to feel her breath, her heartbeat as she leaned into you.

"I can't...I can't tell if it's real," you breathed out, though your body betrayed you by arching toward her, craving more contact, more certainty.

Morticia smirked, her lips grazing your ear as she spoke, "You'll find reality and dreams blend seamlessly when one knows how to control both."

Her words made your breath catch, and before you could think, her lips were on your neck again, this time with more force, more intent. Your hands grasped her arms, nails digging in as you tried to ground yourself, the sensation overwhelming you. The her nails found their way back to your skin, dragging lightly down your back, leaving a delicious sting that made you gasp.

The need to touch her back, to feel if she was real in your hands, consumed you. But when you reached for her, she pulled away, a wicked smile dancing on her lips.

"You see, my dear," she whispered, her fingers trailing down your cheek, "this was no mere dream. It never was. If you just give yourself over, I can show you pleasure beyond any you could ever dream up." As you prepared yourself to do just that, the moment was gone, and Morticia with it. Next time then, you promised yourself. Next time you’d be ready.

For anon

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @trexsuit, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @sparrowspixie, @imaginationismyworldlypleasure, @og-kxsh-420

Morticia Addams: @pink-sunrise-56

[inkykeiji]

character: bonten!mikey x fem!reader notes: a day or two ago teddy and i were daydreaming about sucking on our Daddies’ fingers and i genuinely haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since!!!! warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, daddy kink, hair pulling, oral fixation (finger sucking), somnophilia + minimal prep, mention of drugs words: 1.3k

If he’s being truthful, Mikey doesn’t really mind when you suck on his fingers—kind of likes it, actually; likes feeling useful, likes the way your tongue pulses and jumps just a bit as you draw him in a little further, suck around him a little harder, likes to pacify you—provided that it’s feasible.

You know when to ask, know that if Daddy’s busy cleaning his guns or cutting his drugs that he needs both hands, that his pretty girl can’t be greedy, now, just because she needs something to suck on. No, on those days you can usually be patient enough, can usually wait until Daddy’s finished with whatever important business he has to take care of. But sometimes, if you’re really needy, and you’ve been extra good, you might get lucky—he might let you stick his cock down your throat, let it sit all heavy and hard on your tongue as you kneel sloppily between his spread thighs, chin on the edge of his chair, hands planted between your folded knees and palms pressed flat to the floor, all conscious and intentional, since Daddy has a rule against touching during times like these, claims it distracts him, and we can’t have that, now, can we, sweetheart?

No, Daddy. Of course not, Daddy.

Daddy has a rule against sucking at times like these as well—this isn’t about getting him off or making him feel good, after all, he had told you. This is just about giving his whiny little baby something to fill her mouth with, something to fill her mouth up, to keep her occupied and quiet while Daddy works. If he feels your tongue start to curl around his shaft, if he feels your lips begin to pucker and your cheeks begin to hollow, he’ll be yanking you off his cock in one harsh, swift motion, with his knuckles rooted at your scalp and a growled curse spit through his teeth—and then you’ll be in real trouble, and you definitely don’t want that! 

But it’s when Daddy’s sifting through boring paperwork and poring over mind-numbing files and notes—full of gruesome photographs and disturbing details—that the perfect opportunity arises to lend you his hand, to let you wrap both palms around his slim wrist and take his fingers into your mouth.

He knows that’s exactly what you want when you curl up next to him on his plush office couch, gazing at him with glittering eyes and your bottom lip siphoned between your teeth, but he won’t give it to you; not until you say it, of course, not until you explicitly ask for it—because good girls ask for what they want, don't they?—keen stare veiled by feathery lashes and voice trembling with a desperate sort of humiliation. 

But he’s sweet as syrup when he nods and allows you to suck two of his fingers into your eager, waiting mouth, silky praises falling from between smirking lips. Because you’re so good for him, swallow so well for him, take his index and ring finger all the way in for him, right to the third knuckle, the edges of your teeth gently scraping the sharp protruding bones. 

The metal of his rings clacks against the back of your teeth, platinum and white gold warming in the heat of your mouth as your tongue coils and curves around the bony digits, laves over the bumps and ridges of each knuckle and joint. Foamy saliva pools in all of the dips and crevices of the jewellery, coats the surfaces all slick and slimy and leaves the gems encrusted in the metal gleaming. 

The underside of the rings feel smooth on your tongue, tip tracing around the arc of each one, slow and studious, almost as if committing them to memory. The metal has a slight tang to it, smearing the zest of sweat across your tastebuds, bitter and salty with a hint of the rusted blood still caked beneath his nails and lining his cuticles.

The pads of his fingers stroke your tongue in slow, rhythmic motions, petting the slippery little muscle in a tender caress—mindless, soothing, habitual—as tired onyx eyes skim the pages crumpled in his free hand. Delicate fingers hook around the bangles encircling his wrist and tug, begging for more and whimpering nonsensically around his flesh—more, Daddy, more, more, gimme more, pretty please.

And he does, of course, his sweet, greedy little girl, permits you to draw him further down your throat, copious amounts of drool oozing from the corners of your mouth as your lips tighten and your tongue squeezes—so much so that it’s trickling down your chin and dripping off your jaw in heavy, viscous cords, drizzling all over your chest and clavicle.  

It leaves behind the prettiest streaks of shimmering spit, and Mikey can’t help but press down on the back of your tongue, enraptured as another tiny torrent of saliva seeps past his fingers to spill down his hand and collect in the lines of his palms.

The action earns him a pitchy yelp, sound vibrating around the tips of his fingers, and he snorts a little, fingers rubbing your tongue in a crude sort of apology. 

Sorry, baby, sorry, he’s murmuring in response, though that smug, sadistic little smirk toying with the corners of his lips tells you that he’s not sorry at all. 

His fingertips are pruned by the time he’s finished shuffling through his documents, soaked and soggy with your saliva. Your mouth’s finally gone slack, a telltale indicator that you’ve fallen asleep, dribbles of drool rolling down the side of his hand and his wrist as you breathe, calm and even and soft, around the digits lodged down your throat. 

Your teeth have left cute little indents in his knuckles and the underside of his fingers, but he doesn’t mind, running the tip of his own tongue over the jagged little craters carved into his skin and humming softly to himself.

It always has his cock twitching in his trousers, straining against the thin material, and on the nights where he really needs it—when the day has been abundantly challenging, excruciatingly exhausting, full of collecting debts and deaths—he’ll rearrange your pliant body, push your head down and hips up and panties aside and use his already sopping hand to wet you just enough to comfortably take his cock, burying himself to the fucking hilt in one swift, sharp thrust and revelling in the gorgeous little gasp of surprise that claws its way past your sleepy lips. 

Stay sleeping, sweetheart, he always tells you, murmured into the skin behind your ear and punctuated with a chaste kiss. Just let Daddy take what he needs.

And so you do, every single time, ever his good girl, his best girl, nodding into the corduroy couch cushions and mumbling out some garbled sentiment of affirmation. 

It’s never graceful, always shameful, lacking his usual skill and subtlety as he pathetically ruts into your sweet cunt, flush hips grinding into your thighs gone sticky and slippery with desperation, humping away unevenly at you until his cock is pulsing viciously and he’s breathing out a curse against the damp nape of your neck, filling you with thick cream.

He always takes a moment to admire you after, too; to admire the mess he’s made of you, the masterpiece he’s made of you, calloused thumbs spreading your fucked-raw lips and watching as his cum cascades out of you slow and sticky, using the hardened pad to smear it across your cunt—glazing your clit and your slit and your inner thighs; painting you in him, pressing into the splotches of navy and grey those sharp hipbones carved into soft flesh—before he hoists you up, collects your boneless body in a heap in his arms and decides it’s time for bed, finally, for the both of you.