#i was literally hypnotized by his chest hair

[dujour13]

OK @baneschosen, you asked for it. Saedra just met Gortash. Her thoughts:

What is this?

Ugh, his breath.

Can’t seem to drag my eyes away from the pasty unshaven plunging neckline. Why on the day of your coronation do you dress up in ostentatious finery and not even brush your teeth?

But he’s too clever for it not to be a message of some kind. A slap in the patriars’ faces as a filthy commoner dons the mantle of Archduke?

No—nothing so petty.

For a man who smells like that to fix me with an arrogant glare, and offer me a “brittle alliance” in that smooth tone after admitting to having been betrayed, when I killed his associate and hold not only the prism but one of his precious gems—it’s not an oversight, nor a petty message to the aristocracy. It’s a threat.

He is far too confident for someone who seems in such a fragile position. No need for pretense. No need to even bloody comb his hair.

He frightens me. More than Raphael, more than the Emperor, more even than my patron. I get the feeling that if I take it, this is one deal I’ll never slip free of.

Well, I’m with Karlach. I’ve cleaned up a lot of literal shit in my day, but he makes me want to burn him like a plague bed.

Not here and now. We need to be ready for whatever he’s got up his sweat-stained sleeve.

And I have more immediate things to worry about.

[honeyhotteoks]

under his eye (lnds; sylus)

summary: sylus puts you under his thrall and takes exactly what he wants from you and your body.

note: this is my first love and deepspace fic, and definitely one of my more intense fics thematically for my regular readers who may dip into this one too. i have a few lnds ideas knocking around, so i may post more at some point. ♡

warnings: actual vampire!sylus, fem!reader, mc!reader, this is entirely smut but please mind the warnings here: heavy dubcon (there is enthusiastic consent explicit in the fic just not at first), cnc, use of thrall/mind-control, dollification, fingering, oral (f receiving), actual somno, rough sex, allusions to primal play, blood play, actual vampire behavior, orgasm denial/orgasm control, overstimulation, unprotected sex (he's a vampire tho get real), creampie, praise and shame in equal measure, a LOT of dirty talk from sylus, heavy use of pet names like good girl, sweet girl, kitten, sweetheart, darling, etc., some implied size kink with the use of 'little' but it's meant more mean teasing from him than anything, tenderness, consent talks, check-ins, aftercare, sylus literally loves her in this dw

pairings: vampire!sylus x hunter!reader

genre: smut, porn with very little plot

word count: 5.6k

for my fellow sylus fans, you can probably tell this was fully inspired by his secret times audio 'midnight warmth' - i basically hit level 35 and then went fully insane when i first heard it..... so a few lines of dialogue are borrowed from that.

It’s hard to imagine what it feels like to be in a vampire’s thrall unless you’ve experienced it before. You don’t think you’d ever be able to find the words, not properly. You’ve heard it described, in training, in books, in your own personal research, but it all pales in comparison to what it’s actually like. The slow, hypnotic build up into the haze and the sudden descent into a deeper, darker place where your mind resonates at a lower frequency, fixed on one singular sound. One voice.

Sylus. 

His rich, honeyed tone had pushed you under before you could even process it. 

You try to remember where you were before this moment, who you were, but there are only flickers. The hotel room around you is large and unfamiliar, outfitted decadently in the dark jewel tones he favors so much. The black silk sheets under your back is the only sensation you have other than the slow pulse of your own heartbeat in your ears. If you focus hard enough, you think you can remember a joke, something you quipped over your shoulder about how there must be laws in place in the N109 zone, how ‘vampire’s lair’ must be the only legal style of decor in this sector of space. 

He had laughed, a real, genuine laugh from deep in his chest before he wrapped his arms around you from behind and nuzzled into your hair. 

You don’t like being in a vampire’s lair, kitten? 

You can still hear his words, swimming around your foggy brain, his voice so low and warm in his chest. 

I thought you liked being my pretty paramour. 

Sylus’s hands had wandered, playing with the buckles of your hunter’s leathers and letting his fingertips ghost over your collarbones, up your throat, and pass gently over your lips before stepping back and away from you entirely. You felt strange from that moment on, disquieted. 

You made excuses in your own mind for how you were feeling, weeks of investigations and sleepless nights, that’s why your body felt like it was dragging itself through butter just trying to eat dinner. 

You apologized, you wouldn’t have called him if you had realized just how tired you were.

But he just smiled at you, appraising you with his sharp red eyes in that way he often does, nodding along to your staggered attempts at conversation. 

You realized what he was doing in the last split second before your mind became his. 

His gaze turned darker, searing into you, and with one word you felt the world drop out from underneath you. 

Sleep. 

You don’t remember how you ended up on the bed. 

Now your head is swimming as you try harder and harder to focus your mind and recall the little details.

“Stop resisting, darling,” Sylus murmurs, and you feel the mattress dip. 

You can’t respond, you can’t even really move, and a nervous panic starts to work its way up your spine.

Sylus sits on the edge of the bed, close enough to you now that you can see him in your vacant line of vision, and he nods, “Just relax,” 

Your muscles soften. 

“Let’s get you more comfortable, shall we?” Sylus leans closer, his fingers tugging at the buckles and straps of your clothes. 

You watch as he meticulously undresses you, peeling away layers of your uniform, a satisfied groan whispered from his lips as he parts open your blouse, another when he does away with your tight leather pants. All the while, you’re boneless, trapped by his last command and fully at his mercy. The Hunter’s Academy never prepared you for this. 

“You really are a pretty thing,” Sylus hums, his cool hand drifting up and down your body from the base of your bra to the top of your underwear, “so soft,” 

Nerves pulse through you again, your body twitching under his hands. 

“Shh,” He soothes, “it’s only me, relax,” 

Your muscles melt further, any lingering tension bleeding out of your body at his words, your head rocking softly to one side, your cheek against the silk pillowcase. 

“That’s a good girl,” 

You sigh, a sudden needy tug deep in your belly at his words. 

“Mm,” His hand drifts higher, dancing over your chest and passing over your breasts, the rough drag of your cloth bra against your nipple pulling a tiny whine from your lips. 

He chuckles softly, repeating his motions and you whine again. 

“How lovely and responsive you are,” Sylus says, pulling the fabric of your bra down until it catches under the swell of your breasts, “what other little noises can I pull out of you, kitten?” 

He rolls a thumb over your nipple, drawing it up to a tight, almost painful peak, and you whimper at the flood of sensation through your chest and down your abdomen. 

“And this?” He pinches, a tug that leaves you involuntarily jerking. 

“And here?” You can’t see him with the way your head is turned, but you feel his fingers ghost over the hem of your panties and you suck in a sharp breath. 

He adjusts one of your legs, opening it up at the knee to widen his access, and then he presses two fingers a little more firmly at the top of your cunt, expertly locating your clit through your panties and applying steady pressure. 

You moan softly and you hear him release a tight exhale. 

“My,” He lets his fingers slip down, pushing lightly against your slit, “are you wet already?” 

You know you are, your body responding naturally to his voice, to his tender touch. 

“I asked you a question, sweetheart,” Sylus leans over you, his breath against your cheek, “when I ask you a question, I’d like a response.” 

Your heart is fluttering, a thunderously fast pounding in your chest. 

His fingers hook under your chin and draw your gaze up, and gently he pushes the hair away from your face as he regards you, his dark eyes full of mirth and a little half smile on his lips. He nods at you, pleased as if you had turned your own head, “Now,” he says, “I asked if you’re wet already?” 

Your knotted up tongue loosens instantly at the question, “Yes,” 

“Good girl,” He coos, leaning over you to press his cool lips to yours. 

You can’t kiss him back, he hasn't told you if you’re allowed to move, but he peppers you with kisses until you feel his fingers slide under the hem of your panties. 

You gasp under him, heat pooling in your belly. 

Sylus dips his fingers into the dripping slickness of your cunt and groans into your ear, “You like this,” he nips at your earlobe, “you’re a mess between your thighs for me, aren’t you?” 

“Yes,” The word slips out, your voice breathy and taut.

  “My pretty little hunter,” He slides his fingers up to your swelling clit and circles his fingers, “does that feel good?” 

You moan a little, his fingers pressing more firmly as he circles, “Yes, Sylus,” 

“Spread out for me,” He presses his head against your temple and turns so he can watch your body twitching as he works his fingers over you, “Wet for me,” 

A hot rush spreads up through your body.

You shouldn’t like this. You shouldn’t want this. But you asked for this, a confession of your fantasies whispered between the sheets at his apartment, and he peeled them apart one by one, teasing you with questions and collecting his information, strumming you to orgasm after orgasm all the while.

You just didn’t know it would be today, weeks and weeks went by without so much as an innuendo. The sudden onset of his thrall and his control over your body shouldn’t be this alluring, but it is. You can’t move, you can’t speak unless he allows you, but every touch of his skin on yours has you ready to throw every instinct out the window because you’re pretty sure you’re wetter than you’ve ever been. 

His fingers speed up and your hips buck just a little into the sensation.

  “Dirty girl,” He hums, “you like the way this feels, you like that you can’t move,” 

He twists your dark desires back around on you, a flutter of shame in your chest at the truth of it. 

He explores your cunt with his fingers, toying with you and gathering more wetness to torture your clit with, “You like being helpless, completely in my hands,” he goads you as he works your body up to release, “unable to stop me, or tell me no,” 

Your core throbs, every inch of your body a live wire, shame twisting into a tight knot of need in your belly. 

  “Don’t you?” 

You gasp as he pushes two fingers deep inside you, “Yes, yes!”

”Are you close, kitten?” He purrs in your ear, thrusting his fingers hard and fast, his knuckles rhythmically connecting with your clit. 

  “Yes,” You whine, your body trembling.

  “That’s too bad,” He pulls his hand free and lets your underwear snap back into place. 

If you could move you’d be a whining mess, throwing yourself at him and begging for him to finish the job, but you can’t. He’s stolen your orgasm right out from under you and you can’t even ask him to finish the job. 

“Hmm,” He stands, and you hear the sound of his shirt dropping to the floor, “does it hurt?” 

“Yes,” You manage. 

“Poor baby,” He teases, mocking your little sob, and his thumbs hook under the sides of your panties to yank them roughly off your body, “should I kiss it and make it better?” 

“Please,” 

He drops back down to the bed, this time sliding in between your thighs, and when he speaks again you feel his cool breath whisper across your throbbing center, “Ask nicely,” 

Your voice is shaky when you finally find the words, “Please, Sylus will you touch me?” 

“Touch you where?” 

You whimper, the slightest involuntary jerk of your hips pulling a chuckle from his lips. 

“I said,” He reminds you, “touch you where?” 

“M-my clit,” You beg, “my pussy, please,” 

“Was that so hard?” You can practically see him smiling. 

You open your mouth, ready to respond, but his mouth closes over your clit and all thought and reason you had left disappear. He’s going to ruin you for any other man, you know it. 

Sylus hums, pushing your limp legs painfully wide and laps at your center. There’s no teasing left in him, no gentle licks and featherlight brushes of fingertips, there’s just him, needing to feel you come just as badly as you do. 

The knot in your gut is back with a vengeance, and every impulse in your body is to squirm away from his mouth and let him drag you back down, but you can’t. Sylus takes and takes and you have no choice but to let him. 

When he lifts his mouth to take a quick breath he gives you another command, “Watch me,” 

The tether between you draws your gaze down, and you gasp at the sight of him. He’s shirtless, his broad hands holding open your trembling thighs, and he eats at you like you’re a meal. Your breath comes quicker, blush lighting up your chest. 

“You taste so sweet here,” He groans, barely lifting his mouth, his tongue carving a line up from your entrance to your sensitive bud and you choke out a breathy moan. 

He knows you’re about to come before you do, and you see him smile into your wet heat before he shifts focus, lips closing over your clit and sucking hard, his hand sliding to push two fingers back inside and crook them just right. Within a few sharp pumps of his wrist and a steady flick of his tongue you’re moaning sharply, your release snapping in your belly so hard you see stars. 

You can’t move on your own, but your body crackles apart in rhapsodic shakes and he carries you through the crest of your orgasm with lazy licks. 

“Beautiful,” He murmurs, and you feel the sharp pin prick of pain at your inner thigh. He licks you there too, taking just a little taste from the vein, and then sighs pleasantly and squeezes your thigh. 

He kisses you here once, and then pulls himself up, arranging your legs back down before sliding next to you in the sheets and tugging you close to his chest. 

You rock into him, your body spent and boneless, unable to move to wrap your arms around him or press kisses to his chest. Instead you just are, and he pulls your body up until you’re in the perfect spot in his arms. He tucks his cheek against yours and palms your backside. 

“When you wake,” Sylus whispers low, “it will be on my cock.” 

You shiver, your core pulsing again. 

“And you’ll stay nice and soft and wet for me,” He kisses the hollow of your ear, “my sweet doll,” 

Your eyes start to grow heavy, your head lolling into his shoulder. 

“You’ll let me have my wicked way with your sweet cunt,” His hands flex tightly on your skin, like he’s restraining himself from taking you now, “and when you’re close, right on the edge of coming, you’ll tell me, do you understand?”

  “I understand,” Your words sound lazy, malformed in your cotton mouth but you answer him nonetheless.

“Good,” He murmurs, “and when you come, your hot pussy squeezing my cock, my thrall will end.” 

A hazy question forms in your mind, but you’re so foggy now. 

“But until then,” he sighs, his hands relaxing and his voice softening, “you’ll rest,” 

Your eyes drift shut, a relaxed sigh on your lips, your body indistinguishable in your mind from the sheets wrapped around you. 

Sylus presses a gentle kiss to your hair and strokes your back, “Sleep, little crow,” he says softly, “you’re safe with me,” 

Just like before, the world falls away. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

There’s no telling how long you’ve been asleep, not when Sylus wakes you the way he does. You come into consciousness incredibly slowly, as if you were out of your body and watching the scene in slow motion. The first thing you register through the muffled world of dreamless sleep is his voice. It doesn’t matter how deeply under you are, still encased in darkness, you hear his voice reach out to you and tug on the invisible tether tying your consciousness to his. 

Needy girl. 

Hands on your thighs, cool air on your cunt. 

Rutting yourself on my thigh. 

Were you? 

Don’t you know I’m the only one allowed to make you come?

A soft moan. Yours, you think distantly. 

Sylus chuckles and hums, no doubt appraising you once again with his hungry eyes. You still feel under the deep water of sleep, your body disconnected and pliant in his hands, his influence so impacting that you remain his plaything even now. 

Fingers dance across your skin, skating lines of ice over your flesh. Sylus studies your body with his touch, a brush against your collarbones, the curve of your shoulders, down your arms into the ditch of your elbows. A brush of lips against your palm, a reverent kiss to your chest, his mouth nuzzling against your belly as he searches more of you with his precious touch. 

Your skin turns sensitive, prickling goose flesh, and he sighs pleasantly into your skin, “So beautiful,” 

His voice feels clearer now, and somewhere in your brain through the membrane of your closed eyelids you register the cool blue of early morning light. 

“My darling,” He hums, another kiss, the shifting of the sheets as he moves, “my sweet girl,” 

You feel the weight of him above you, his legs between yours and his torso radiating a chill as he holds himself above you. Sylus slips one hand into your hair, cradling your head for a moment before he tightens his hold and uses his grip on your scalp to draw your head back, neck stretched long and exposed. 

He drops lower, body ghosting yours, and he buries his face in your throat, pushing his nose into your pulse point. A panicked thrill lances through you, your heartbeat fluttering faster. 

“Shh, shh,” He whispers against your throat, “don’t be frightened,” 

A sharp exhale leaves your lips. 

Sylus kisses your throat, letting his lips linger, “You wanted to play with a vampire, sweetheart, this is what you get,” 

Even in this false sleep, you feel your core flutter, heat pooling again. 

His tongue darts out, tracing a line from your thumping pulse up your vein to your ear and he groans pleasantly, a flutter of breath across your skin, “Next time,” he shudders, “maybe I’ll make you play my favorite game,” 

Your breath quickens. 

“Vampire,” He nips at your throat, his fangs still sheathed, “and vampire hunter,” 

The ache between your thighs melts into a throb, a pulse in time with your heart.

Sylus moves lower, lavishing open mouthed, messy kisses on your skin as he talks. His voice still a whisper, his fantasies muttered out from himself more than for you as he loses himself in your touch.

”You’ll come to me,” He teases, “ready to kill the big, bad, vampire,” he punctuates every word with a sharp lick to your breasts.  

A whimper passes through your slack lips. 

“Only I’ve played this game before,” His hand slides out of your hair and he settles his body weight over you, “and I never lose,” 

You shiver, his words, his cold touch, it hardly matters. 

“And you’ll run from me,” His hands drag over your skin, cupping your breasts, “and I’ll chase the frightened kitten into the woods,” 

Your breath hitches. 

He smiles against your skin, lips closing over a stiff nipple and flicking until you shudder beneath him. He hums, kissing across your chest, “Red and ripe as strawberries,” he observes, latching onto your other nipple and sucking, “I can feel how much you’re aching for me even in your sleep,” 

You’re dripping, you can feel it, making a mess of the silk sheets underneath you. 

He shifts, maneuvering your body to tilt your hips up and open, legs spread wide, and then you feel him. Sylus slides his impossibly hard length over your slit, rocking himself back and forth against your wetness, his velvet head nudging at your swollen bud. 

Your body is trembling, fluttering under his hands. 

“When I catch you,” He returns to his garish fantasy, “I’ll strip you bare,” 

You feel your stomach clench at the thought. 

“I’ll pin you right down to the ground,” He says it like a promise, rolling his hips harder, “and fuck your hot little cunt until you’re so cockdrunk you beg for more,” 

A pained whine bubbles from your mouth, hips arching involuntarily at his words. 

“Mm,” His hand drags down your chest, skimming over your body, “have I denied you too long, love?” 

You want to beg, to plead, to shift your hips into the exact right position so that his next thrust pushes his cock inside. 

“You’ve been so good,” He adjusts, finally nudging at your wet entrance, his hands finding yours in the sheets and drawing them above your head, fingers twined together, “just a little more,”

He inhales sharply and then with a forceful thrust he sheaths himself inside you, his hips connecting hard with yours. 

You moan sharply, your pussy clenching around the thick intrusion of him. 

He chokes a groan, “O-open your eyes, sweetheart,” 

Your eyes snap open, and the sight of him naked above you, inside you, is enough to send your mind spiraling out of control. 

“Your body was made for me,” He snaps his hips, setting a brutal pace as he ruts into you, “divined by gods for my cock,” 

Pleasure rolls up through your belly and your body tightens.

  “You’re mine,” His hands tightens on yours, his eyes boring into you.

  Tears gather in your eyes, a hot sensation through every inch of your body at the way his thick length spears you open with every draw of his hips. The knot inside you pulls again, a taut cord threatening at any moment to snap. 

“Say you’re mine,” He commands, his voice faltering into a moan.

  Your mouth opens, straining against the sure drop of your orgasm but you nod, “I’m yours, S-Sylus, I’m all yours,” 

“Good girl,” He pants, “there she is,” 

The praise on his lips sends you higher, and you suck in a sharp breath, “I’m… Sylus, I’m close!”

He descends, moving in a flash of nearly inhuman speed, and suddenly your head is pulled to the side  again and you’re cradled tight as he rolls his hips into you. 

“Come,” He directs, one more command on his lips before you fall to pieces beneath him, and his sharp fangs descend into your throat. 

“Sylus!” You jerk, true consciousness and feeling rushing back as the thread between his mind and yours severs, but you don’t have a moment to parse how it feels to be out of thrall when your orgasm rushes into you full force and the hot pain of his teeth melts into delicious pleasure. 

He groans, shuddering above you and stopping his thrusts as he feels your walls spasm and flutter around him, the taste of your blood on his tongue grinding the world to a halt at his feet. Nothing exists but you and him and your blood on his teeth and his cock buried to the hilt inside you. 

Your arms wrap around his shoulders, one hand threading into his hair, “Sylus,” you murmur, carding your fingers through his silver locks, “all yours,” 

Euphoria doesn’t begin to describe it, your orgasm feels never ending. Every suck at your tender throat spurns another wave through you, and you rock yourself against him, grinding up against his pelvic bone to draw out every ounce of your pleasure. 

When he pulls away, he does so with care, gentle with the skin of your neck to ensure he doesn’t hurt you anymore that he has to. Pushing up on the mattress he finds your face and you roll right into another aftershock. His eyes are brighter, wide in desperate awe of you and somehow an even darker shade of red, and that with the smear of your blood across his lips has you keening, arching and gripping against him as you babble out his name between moans. 

“That’s it,” He softens, gathering you close to press his forehead to yours, “come for me again, that’s my girl,” 

“Sylus,” You’re a whimpering mess, your body a pool of ecstatic pleasure, and all you can do is repeat his name and hold onto him through the wave of endorphins and emotions. 

“Shh, shh,” He hushes you softly as you ride through the last flush of pleasure, “I’ve got you,” 

Your skin is slick with sweat, and your legs are shaking, breath coming in shallow pants as you finally come back down. 

Sylus holds you, bracing you to his chest and he makes short work of rolling you both without disconnecting your bodies. When he settles he’s on his back with you perched on his hips, his fingers carving a line up and down your spine to settle you. 

Flush and trembling, you find his eyes again. 

His brows draw together, a knit line of tender concern, and he brushes his thumb over your jaw, “Don’t bite your lip,” 

Your mouth relaxes, you hadn’t even known you were doing it, and your eyes flick away. He says something, words you can hardly hear through the dizzy rush of your brain trying to catch up with the past few hours.

“Sweetheart,” he smooths his thumb over your cheek, “look me in the eyes, answer me,” 

Your head snaps back up. 

“Was I too rough?” He asks softly.

You don’t have words yet, you can’t reach them and string them together, but you shake your head.

”Are you sure?” His hands draw up and down your body slowly like he’s checking you for something, his broad hands finally coming to rest over yours where you brace yourself on his chest. 

You nod to his answer his question, “I’m sure,” 

He relaxes under you, pressing your hands into his chest over his heart, and it would turn you to romantic putty if he wasn’t still seated fully inside you and if your blood wasn’t staining his mouth. Your eyes keep flicking down to his mouth, crimson across his plush bottom lip, smears on his chin, a drip that made it to the edge and slipped down his neck. 

”Hmm,” His lips turn up into a smile and you sheepishly look back up, “are you still hungry, love?” 

Your stomach clenches, his voice turning husky again the moment he spies your renewed arousal. 

This time though, you’re awake. The heavy fog of his control and your barrage of orgasms has started to lift, and you need something more. 

You let your body melt, relaxing against him and letting his cock shift inside you, “Are you?” 

He almost laughs at your expression, one brow raised to challenge him as you push up to straddle him. His eyes rake over you and you feel his cock twitch, “You’d think I would have had my fill of you,” he says, hands moving to your hips, “but I find you make me insatiable, the more I taste you, the more I fuck you, the more I want,” 

“A vampire who’s never satisfied?” You tease him, “how original,” 

He exhales softly through his nose, smiling, “You’re the one still grinding on my cock, kitten,” 

You blush, but make no effort to stop unconsciously rocking your hips against him. 

“I was wrong, you’re the insatiable one,” He says appreciatively, and he smoothly slides his hands up your back to brace you so that when he sits up you stay with him. 

“If I was I’d never admit it,” 

He smacks your ass lightly with his palm and you wrap your legs around him, the position change sinking you back down onto his length and you sigh. 

”After what you just let me do to you?” Sylus shakes his head, his voice dropping the teasing tone when he presses his lips to your chest, “That’s admission enough,” 

He takes both hands to grip your backside, pressing into your soft flesh, and drags you forwards to coax you into motion. 

Holding onto his shoulders you follow his lead, working your hips back and forth, letting the press of his hands guide your speed. The feeling is dizzying, his cock feeling thicker and more filling in this position, and you can’t help the stammered moans and pants that bubble out of you with every downstroke connecting your hips to his. 

Sylus mutters a curse into your skin, his fingers pressing hard enough to leave bruises, and then you feel his tongue. 

“Fuck,” You whine, “Sylus,” 

He pulls at your hips harder and you pick up the pace, grinding your heels into the mattress for the right leverage, losing yourself to the steady wet sound of him inside you and the heat building back up in your belly. 

You shiver at the sensation of his tongue traveling, dragging a line up your chest from the swell of your breast to your collarbone, and when he groans and huffs a needy breath at your throat, you realize what has him so flustered. 

“T-take more,” Your hand in his hair again to direct his head, pushing him towards your throat. 

“Mm-mm,” He shakes his head and drops the flat of his tongue over the bleeding teeth marks at your throat. 

You hiss sharply, a familiar roll of pleasure through you and you grip his hair, “Please, baby, please,” 

“Not tonight,” He laps at you again, “just cleaning you up,” 

“God,” You moan, your pace faltering for a moment until the pressure of his hands pushes you back into action. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you, pulling away from your throat and using one hand to tug you close by the back of the neck, “you feel…” 

You have to hold on, you need him to come after all the work he’s put into pleasuring you, and you can’t let yourself fall apart until he does. You lock eyes with him and his expression, almost pained, his mouth open in silent pleasure and still painted red, pushes you through the ache in your hips and the burning in your thighs. He��s so close. Nearly, nearly there.

”Sylus,” Your voice breathy, “kiss me,” 

There’s a flicker of a smile across his mouth but he surges up, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss. His tongue catches against yours, and you taste the iron of your own blood, you feel the sharpness of his fangs, but all it does is drive you closer and closer to delicious release. 

“My sinful little thing,” He pants against your mouth, “you never stop surprising me,” 

Your eyes flutter shut, your nails tight against his shoulders, “Please, I need it,” 

“What do you need?” He croons, hungrily at your lips once more. 

You moan against his mouth, tugging his hair sharply, “Come,” you pant, nearly out of breath, “I need your cum,” 

He shudders, groaning.  

“Sylus!” You whine again, “Inside, please, please,” 

His hand slips from your hair, and the equilibrium changes things back to Sylus in total control. With both hands secured on your ass he takes over, dragging you fast and hard on his cock and meeting every thrust with a hard jut of his hips. He’s fucking into you with reckless need, the head of his cock connecting over and over again with your cervix, and you arch and cry out in his arms. 

“No,” He pants, pulling you back to him, “eyes on me,” 

“Please,” You beg again, your cunt spasming and fluttering, “I-I’ll come if you just,” 

He loses himself immediately, pulling you down hard and choking out a moan, spilling his release deep and grinding you down to prolong his own pleasure, but you’re falling apart right behind him in a breath. A final, dizzying orgasm taking your body like a soft wave, languid and warm, and Sylus nods as you ride it out, coaxing you through every last moment. 

When you settle, you feel how much your body is trembling, and he releases his tight grip on your hips to gently massage your skin, soothing touches as he softens inside you. 

“Oh my god,” You laugh softly, your forehead pressed to his, “that was,” 

“Good?” He asks, a soft, quick kiss to your lips. 

“Perfect,” You sigh, “you were perfect.” 

He nods, drinking you in for a moment more before he exhales and relaxes, leaning back and meeting your eyes.  

“I must look a mess,” You press your cool knuckles to the warmth of your flushed cheeks. 

“A beautiful mess,” He counters gently. 

You smile lazily at him, feeling boneless and sated and delicious. 

Sylus takes the pad of his thumb to the very tip of his razor sharp fangs and pierces his skin, a bead of his own dark blood rising up from the puncture on his pale skin. 

His fangs retract and he reaches for you, smoothing his bleeding thumb over the bite mark at your throat. You hiss sharply at the sensation and grip his shoulder, the burn of your skin knitting itself back together something you don’t know if you’ll ever get used to. 

“I was too rough with you,” He comments, like he’s filing away that information for himself for next time. 

You shake your head though, resting your hand on his wrist, “You weren’t, I wanted every bit of it,” 

His thumb sweeps a final line over your skin and he kisses you again, “I’ll keep that in mind,” 

You smile against his lips, and then Sylus gives you one final, quick peck. 

“I think a shower,” He says, sliding you both smoothly off the bed and keeping you tucked in his arms, “and a nap,” 

“I think that’s a perfect idea,” 

“And I’m hardly hungry anymore,” He teases as he carries you into the bathroom, “but we’ll order something up for you,” 

You nod, relaxing into his care. 

“Perhaps a movie,” He suggests, sliding you onto the counter so he can start the shower, “or I could always read to you?” 

“Or you could tell me more about next time,” You say slyly, “what was it? Chasing me down in the woods?” 

He shakes his head, testing the warmth of the water on his fingertips. 

“Having your way with me?” You stretch out your leg to reach him, dragging your foot down his thigh, “Should I struggle? Beg you to stop?” 

His hand snaps up, closing around your ankle and he turns towards you, “Be careful, sweetheart,” 

“I’m simply curious,” You tease. 

“Mhm,” He scoops you back up and walks you straight into the shower until your back is against the chilly tile wall, “Curious?” 

You feel him hardening again against your belly and you nod.

“Kitten,” He smirks, “you know what they say about curiosity, don’t you?” 

“I think I need a little reminder,” You sigh, holding onto his shoulders again. 

He kisses you again, pressing you into the shower wall, a smile on his mouth as he nips at your lip, “I’ll bet you do,” 

[seraphicsentences]

hlllo can you pleas do football!ellie ina rush and really needing her sport shirt that reader is wearing, but since reader is so unbothered to change she takes it off right there n it gets ellie thinking if she should even go!!!!!! maybe a little smutty smut ‼️‼️inluv with yur writinggg

hi baby yes i can thank you for the request sweet girl. sorry this took a little while i appreciate your patience. also yes i know i said i was going on a break yesterday and then proceeded to bang out this entire thing, my bipolar ass got bored. enjoy! <3

“BABE?”

“BAAAABE?” ellie calls louder as you hear her stumbling through your shared apartment, clearly in a rush.

“babe, have you seen my-oh there it is,” she swings into the room abruptly, stopping in her tracks when she sees her much needed football jersey, adorned by yours truly.

“hey els, what’s up?” you ask, propping yourself up on the bed, and shooting her a look so sickly sweet, savage starlight comic in hand.

ellie’s existence can be found in all aspects of you at the moment, from the clothes you’ve “borrowed” and your choice of fine literature, to the purpled bruises littering your jaw and collarbone.

ellie can’t help but let her buzzing pre-game thoughts slow at the sight of you, and fester around thinking mine, mine, mine.

“hey pretty girl, i just really need my jersey for practice. do you mind changing, pretty please? i’m late,” she says softly, leaning over the mattress to press a warm kiss against your forehead.

“aw, fine, i’ll just wear nothing then,” you joke, reaching over your head to pull off the top in one swift move, revealing your bare chest with marks to match your neck.

you watch knowingly as ellie quite literally shutters: caught up in the sight of what’s literally a physical manifestation of the guilty pleasure that is her possessiveness.

—and you revel in the power trip that this is. because how is it that mere nakedness, something that’s more you than anything else you could put on your skin, is enough to make ellie fucking williams crumble.

and so all you do is smirk when, without sparing even a glance away, ellie tosses the held-out jersey lazily over one shoulder and leans in to indulge herself with another kiss; this time a proper, messy one on your parted lips.

“on second thought,” she says, in between breaths, before diving down to swirl her tongue around your hardened nipples, greedily sucking and licking at them like your own fucking baby.

you’re nothing but powerless to her hypnotic ministrations, as much of a fool for her as she is for you, letting low moans out freely from the back of your throat.

moving back up to kiss you like she wants to consume your sounds, the aggressiveness of ellie’s actions leave you nowhere to go but fall backwards onto the bed, chest pressing up to brush your pointed nipples lush against ellie’s chest.

“fuck, baby,” she rasps into your mouth, slipping her hand between the two of you to knead at your breast, calloused fingers thumbing over your nipples. she watches in awe as you shudder at the sensation, hooded eyes begging for more.

“fuckin’ tease,” she mumbles with a smile, mouthing over her previously left bruises with a hot, flat-tongued lick. feeling the vibrations on your throat as you laugh at her, she gently nips at your skin, letting out a laugh of her own as she feigns annoyance.

“shut up,” she chuckles, suffocating your laughs with the press of her mouth, continuing to make out with you in the delicious way that it is to make out with her.

ellie pries a knee between your squeezed thighs, nudging it upwards in such kind offerance to your burning heat— to which you take, hips immediately grinding up in desperation.

but just as quickly as it was given to you is it taken away.

ellie sits up with a jolt, mussing with your hair as she replaces her shirt with the jersey hurriedly. she stumbles towards the door with a guilty look in her eyes, pausing only to ramble, “coach is gonna kill me, sorry babe. that’s what you get for being such a tease! i’ll make it up to you, you fuckin’ minx. i love you!" before sprinting out the door, shoelaces undone.

you lay there, frozen and topless with your panties soaked, and you curse ellie out, that little bitch.

[latenightdaydreams]

I have an idea that Konig is Ghostface and he's been stalking reader for a while. He found out reader is a bookworm outside but literally a cunt inside. Like she never comes to parties, spend hours with her vibration instead. One night, Konig sneaks in her house and rape her fat unused pussy 😩😩😩

🤭🤭🤭YES😮‍💨

Ghostface!König x Nerd!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

🚫TRIGGERS🚫

>cw: fem/afab, non-con, bondage, voyeurism, stalking

3.1k word count

👻

.

.

The first time König saw you was at the campus Valentine's Day party. You showed up dressed in a festive pink sweater, but then sat in the corner with a stank look on your face. His eyes followed you as you seemingly complained to the girl you came with, a friend? Either way, your breasts and sensual body shape caught his attention.

König walks up to a guy that’s talking to your friend, “Wer ist das?” He asks, pointing to you.

“She’s a bitch,” the girl's friend hits his chest as if to tell him to shut up.

“She’s just shy. She hates parties.” Christa, your friend, defends you.

They all stand there and watch you gather your things and walk out the door without saying bye to anyone, not even your friend. Interesting. What type of woman are you? He was intrigued and wanted to see more of you. See what those bouncy breasts look like outside of that pink sweater.

After this first encounter, he dedicated his time to following you around campus. First, only to figure out what your schedule was. What classes do you take, what teacher do you have, what building the classes are in, etc. Just the basics.

He stalks behind you, far enough behind that you’d never notice; but close enough to listen in on any conversations you had. Which was basically zero. You kept to yourself no matter what you were doing. If someone interacted with you, you’d have such a poor attitude about it. Snappy, short, lots of eye rolling. This went on for two months.

One day, König set up a forced interaction. Dressed casually and slicked his blonde hair back. He looks handsome, standing at 6 '10 and being pure muscle. He knows he is attractive; his personality just sucks, much like yours seems to.

He lingers outside your second class of the day and looks around as if he were a lost student. Once he sees you, he walks over.

“Excuse me, miss?”

Your eyes dart to him as you take out an air pod. “What?” Your tone is unkind.

“I’m lost and I don’t know which room-”

“I’m late for class.” You cut him off and walk past him.

König just watches as you walk away with a smirk on his face. He knows once he has you in his hands, he’d have fun breaking you. After that, he waits for you to leave class and follow you home. Since you would not get to know him the typical way, he would continue getting to know you in the shadows.

You walk fast, but he has no issues keeping up. Your hips sway hypnotically, keeping his attention. Finally, you stop at a cute one-story home. He watches as you take your keys out and enter your home. Waiting a few minutes before he walks up to peek into your windows. He looks around to make sure no neighbors are watching as he walks up to your house, crouching.

Eyes peering through the first window, he sees your living room. Your shoes kicked off by the door, TV turned on already, and backpack thrown on the couch. His eyes scan the room, trying to take in every detail.

Continuing on he comes to the next window. He sees you and ducks back, worried you might have seen him. After a few seconds of no screams, he creeps back to the window. There you are. Taking off your shirt and jeans, just standing there in your beige bra and blue cotton panties. Totally unaware you’re being watched as you check yourself out in your dresser's mirror.

Watching like a hawk as you open the top draw and pull out a pink little vibrator. König could already feel his pants begin to tighten. You walk to your bed, grabbing a towel that’s folded underneath the bed. Laying the towel out, getting your pillows situated, and moving the blanket. It’s almost like a ritual and König’s interest is definitely piqued. 

He watches as you lie down on the bed. Your pretty pussy covered with a little bit of hair, as you spread your legs he can see the pink within your folds. Fuck this is gold…

König quickly undoes his pants as he watches you pick a setting before moving it to your little clit. Through the window he can hear how loud you’re being, your legs twitch from the stimulation. All the while König stands there feverishly stroking his leaky cock. Imagining him running up to you and shoving his cock in that tight little pussy…

Your hips begin to grind into the vibrator as your head drops back on to your pillows. Your left leg is starting to tremble… König watches without blinking as your innocent pussy begins to squirt. Fingers replacing the vibrator, you start rubbing your clit quickly. Your sweet juices are spraying everywhere. He bites his lip as he begins to cum, accidently cumming on the siding of your house. It felt as if he were a wild animal and just marked you, leaving his scent behind to deter other predators.

This became a ritual for König as the school year went on. He would follow you around campus, watch who you talk to, see how you interact with the world. Occasionally he would try to go up to you and just talk nicely, but every time you shot him down. As if you’re better than him. Then he would follow you home and masturbate outside your window as you play with your tiny cunt.

That was until summer break happened. You went away to work as a camp counselor for the summer, leaving König behind. With you gone, König felt lost. He spent most of the summer inside watching porn. Looking for actresses that resemble you, but none could match your perfect breasts or pretty pink cunt.

August rolls around and classes start back up. König walks into his social science class and sees you… perfect. You sit in the front, middle. Teacher’s pet know-it-all, of course you’d pick there to sit.

König sits in the very back, where he has a clear line of view in your direction. He watches as you rest your head in the palm of your hand. How you cross your legs and squeeze, as if you’re trying to stimulate some sort of pleasure. Little slut, you can’t even control yourself in class. All the obsession comes rushing back to him. He needs you.

Halloween rolls around. König is handed a flier for a costume party that will be happening at one of the sororities here on campus.  His new friend Carl, your friend’s boyfriend, goes out with him to buy costumes.

 They both walk through the Halloween store and talk casually. He tries to think of ways to ask about you without being so direct.

“Is Christas bitch friend coming?” König chuckles to make it seem less important to him.

“Y/n? Probably not. She never shows to support anything Christa does. When she does, she’s in a foul mood and just leaves. It breaks Christas heart.” He sounded genuinely upset with you and your behavior.

“What’s her deal anyway?”

“I don’t know. Little stuck up virgin bitch thinks she’s better than Christa because she’s waiting until marriage.”

Virgin. That’s why you only touch your clit; you don’t want to “pop” your cherry.

“Is she religious?”

“Probably. I never cared to ask. Let’s just hope she doesn’t show up and ruin it.”

���Yeah.” König didn’t want you to show up, but for a very different reason. He had something special in the works.

Reaching up, König grabs a Ghostface mask and holds it up to his face. “Hey, what about this?”

.

.

Halloween night, König puts on the black robe over a pair of blue jeans, a white shirt, and a small satchel bag that has duct tape and rope. A real knife in his hand. He stood in front of his bathroom mirror, looking at himself. Blonde hair longer and pushed back, dark circles under her icy blue eyes, and a twisted look on his face.

“You got this. You can do it.” He whispers as he slips the mask over his face.

König leaves his shared apartment on campus and walks down the street while the sun is just beginning to set. Other students rush past him, all heading to their own Halloween parties. Towering over everyone dressed as Ghostface, he had a few people jump out of fear. From behind the mask, he apologizes while laughing. As if he is a normal guy.

Finally, he approaches the steps on the sorority. Walking inside he sees that there are a few other Ghostface at the party already. König rolls his eyes under the masks. His attention turns to the staircase as he hears Christa and Carl arguing. Without being seen, he walks closer to listen in. It’s clear that she’s talking about y/n.

You bailed. Probably home studying or making yourself squirt. The thought gives König a chub. You’re exactly where he hoped you would be. At first, he was nervous this wouldn’t work out for him. No, you never change. Easy to track. Before he is seen, he slips out of the doors.

He blends in easily for once in his life. Everyone dressed up like freaks or sluts. The giant isn’t the main focal point today. Once he enters your neighborhood, he notices the empty streets, but very loud house music. All of your neighbors seem to gather, yet your home's lights are on.

Cautiously, he approaches your living room window. Boom, there you are, asleep on the couch. The TV on TLC, some random trash television show. He attempts to lift the window in front of him, but it’s locked. Moving down a window to your bedroom, also locked. König walks around the back and tries the back door, locked. The kitchen window is a little smaller, but he still tries it. Open.

Carefully, König climbs through the window. His massive body just barely begins to fit, but he manages. Slowly he climbs off of the counter that was right under the window, being sure to not kick anything off the counter and possibly wake you up.

Once stable on the floor he stood there for a while and looked around your kitchen. Your style was quirky, which was odd because you act as if you have no personality. Before waking you up, he goes into the bedroom and gets that towel you keep under your bed. He lays it out on the bed the same way you do. Even arranging the pillows and blanket for you.

Reaching into his bag under his black robes, he takes out the rope and tape. The rope he leaves on the bed as he walks out of the bedroom with the tape. He pulls some and he can be quick to shut you up.

With soft steps he makes his way to the living room. He can see your hands are in your hands as if you fell asleep masturbating. A virgin whore. He’s ready to just make you into his whore. Standing over you as you sleep; eyes drifting over your breast and the tiny bit of midriff that is showing.

Slowly lowering his face closer to you until he sees your eyes open. At first it’s as if you didn’t register what you saw. König tilts his head. Then you open your eyes again and begin to scream. Quickly he covers your mouth with the tape.

“Shhh,” his eyes go wild behind the mask.

You try to stand and get away but his massive body easily overpowers yours and slams you back down into the couch.

“Don’t fucking move.” He hisses as he cuts the tape with the knife. Pulling more, he adds an extra layer.

With ease he lifts your body from the couch, pinning your arms to your side so you can’t hit him. Your legs kicking as he brings you into your room; eyes going wide as you see that he set the bed up the same way you set up when you masturbate.

König giggles looking at your face, “I did good, ja?”

He grabs the rope and tosses you on the bed. As you try to stand up, he pushes you back hard, “Give up Maus, you’re mine tonight.”

Using his massive body to pin you down, he climbs on top of you. Your face down into the mattress as he grabs one of your arms and pins it behind your back before grabbing the other. He uses the rope to tie your hands together, tight enough to dig into your flesh.

“I’ll show you how to have a really good time.”

König stands and grabs your body, turning you to rest on your back, nuzzled in the pillows like when you masturbate. He walks to your dresser and takes out the small pink vibrator. You look up at him with wide eyes, it’s clear that he’s been watching you.

“Now, don’t move, or I might cut you.” He says leaning back over your body as he begins to cut your shirt from your body. Your full breasts come into view and he can’t help the temptation of reaching up and pinching your nipple. You try to scream through the tape, but the sound is muffled.

His attention drops down to the waistband of your pajama pants. Slowly he pulls them down. Seeing your cunt face to face instead of at a distance was breathtaking. Speechless, he moves his fingers through the soft hair that covers your pussy. Finally, he can feel you, smell you, taste you.

“If you move, I’ll gut you.” He threatens as he begins to settle himself between your legs.

He lifts his mask slightly and takes in a deep breath of what your pussy smells like. It’s almost sinful. He has to taste it. Slowly he slips his tongue out and swipes it through your folds. You squirm slightly but stop, remembering the knife. He swipes his tongue up again. If he knew you were this sweet, he would have broken in sooner.

Shoving his face into your pussy he takes a deep breath before sucking on your clit. He bites it lightly, causing you pain as your body jerks away. Not letting you move; he wraps his arms around your legs tightly to hold you still. Spit running down his chin as he aggressively laps at your cunt. He slurps your pussy juice before biting your labia. Again, you jerk in pain and König just laughs as he pulls his mask back down.

Once he stands from the bed he just looks down at your naked body. He begins to pull off the black robe, tossing aside the satchel. Stripping down to his birthday suit, but the mask stays on. His body is massive with a cock so heavy it hangs.

He grabs your pink vibrator and turns it on, gently holding it to your clit. His eyes light up as your legs begin to tremble. Muffled little moans escaping your lips. You can’t help but to feel pleasure, even though you’re in this situation.

“Good…kleine Hure.” He turns off the vibrator and sets it aside. Inching closer to you, he slaps his cock on your pussy a few times.

“Ready?”

You shake your head no and try to scoot away from him, but he grabs your legs and drags you back to him. “No, no, no, you’re not getting away that easy.”

Looking down at your cunt he rubs the head of his cock back and forth over your clit. Slowly he slips down. With one hard thrust of his hips, he bullies his monster cock deep inside of your unused pussy. The tightness of your cunt was something only his hand had ever given him.

“Mien Gott, you really were a virgin.” He chuckled.

König grabs your legs and lets them fall over his arms as he holds your ass up off the bed slightly. His hips rolling rapidly into you, looking down he can see blood on his cock. A soft growl leaves his lips.

He lets your legs drop as he leans over you, one of his hands wrapping around your throat lightly. “My fat unprotected cock just ruined your pretty virgin cunt.”

You try to turn your head away from him as tears begin to roll down your eyes, but he doesn’t let you. He turns your head back to face him.

“Eyes open. I want to see the shame when I make you cum.”

You open your eyes as you have no choice but to listen. His free hand reaches down between your legs and begins to rub your clit. Trying to resist the pleasure was impossible, your legs tremble as your pussy feels as if it were torn in two.

He watches as you shake your head no. Your pussy getting tighter on his cock, he knew. He pulls out quickly, shoving his middle and ring finger into you. He presses down on the lower part of your stomach as his fingers curl, hitting your g-spot repeatedly.

You drop your head back and he slaps your pussy, “Eyes on me!” His voice a low growl.

Lifting you head back up to look at him, your eyes cross from the explosion of pleasure you’re feeling. You squirt, hitting the Ghostface mask slightly, getting it all over König’s hands and arms.

“That’s what I want to see!” He excitedly slips his cock back into your pussy. His eyes watch as you wince in pain.

His hips move mercilessly into you. “I’m going to cum deep inside of this pussy. You’re going to get pregnant with my babies. You like staying home anyway, right?”

The look on your face as he talks down to you is full of fear and it’s just enough to get him off. He presses his cock fully into you, your cries of pain muffled buts still so beautiful. König cums deep inside of you. His seamen painting every inch of your velvety walls. A loud groan leaves his mouth as he tries to press in even further.

The look on your face is almost relieved as he cums, that means this is over with. So, you thought. He pulls his cock out, covered in blood and cum. In one quick motion he flips you on to your stomach, pulling you down the bed a little. He sits on the bed now, one leg on either side of you. König leans forward to pull the tape off of your mouth and drags you closer to him by your shoulders.

“You’re going to clean this.” He says slapping his cock on your face a few times. “Open.”

You don’t struggle, opening your mouth wide. The taste of salty cum and blood assaults your taste buds. His hand grasping a fist full of hair and shoving his cock down your throat. Your body thrashes, legs kicking as you gag.

“Get used to it, Maus. My cock isn’t leaving your throat any time soon.”

[wendichester]

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ ☾ . cuddles post-hunt,

summary. tired sammy is a soft cute cuddler .ᐟ

pairing. sam winchester + reader

wordcount. 642.

The motel room is quiet, save for the faint hum of the heater in the corner. You’re stretched out on the bed, the scratchy comforter bunched up around you, scrolling through your phone. When the door creaks open, you glance up to see Sam stepping inside. He looks tired—more than tired. His shoulders are slumped, and his hair is sticking up in a way that would be funny if he didn’t also look like he could pass out on his feet.

“Finally,” you say, locking your screen and tossing your phone onto the nightstand. “Thought maybe you got lost in the parking lot.”

Sam shuts the door behind him with a quiet click, managing a tired smile as he shrugs out of his jacket. “Wanted to scout the area. Make sure we're safe.”

“Of course, you did." You smile faintly as you watch him shrug out of his jacket and toss it over the chair, his movements slow, like even that takes too much energy. He's exhausted and it shows on his face.

He sits down heavily on the edge of the bed, his long legs stretch out in front of him, and for a moment, he just stares at the floor, like he’s trying to convince himself not to collapse.

“Hey.” You scoot closer, nudging his arm lightly with your knee. “You good?”

He lets out a slow breath, dragging a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Just... long day.”

“Try 'long week'.” You flop onto your side, propping your head up on one hand. “We totally kicked ass, though. That spirit? Toast. Literally.”

Sam huffs out a laugh, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. He moves on the bed, his head tipping against the headboard. “Yeah,” His voice is soft, almost apologetic, like he's trying not to let the weight of the hunt bleed into this moment.

You don’t say anything—there’s no need. Instead, you slide an arm around his waist and rest your head against his chest. It takes him a second, but then he shifts, wrapping an arm around you, his hand resting lightly on your shoulder.

He lets out another sigh, this one quieter, and you feel the tension in his body start to ease. “This is nice,” he murmurs, his voice so low you almost miss it.

“Yeah,” you agree, your fingers brushing lightly against the fabric of his shirt. “It is.”

The room feels warmer now, not just from the heater but from the quiet comfort of being close to him. His heartbeat is steady under your ear, a soothing rhythm that makes your eyelids feel heavy.

“You’re always so warm,” you murmur sleepily, snuggling closer.

Sam chuckles softly, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Perks of being freakishly tall, I guess.”

You smile, but it’s small and lazy, your body already starting to relax. His hand starts to move, his fingers drawing slow, absentminded patterns on your arm. It’s soothing, almost hypnotic, and you feel yourself drifting.

“You okay?” he asks quietly after a moment, his voice gentle.

“Mmhm,” you hum, barely lifting your head. “Perfect.”

Sam’s hand stills for a moment, and then you feel his lips brush lightly against the top of your head. It’s such a small, tender gesture that it makes your chest ache in the best way.

���I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

You tilt your head up to look at him, your eyes meeting his. There’s something soft and unguarded in his expression, a look that makes you feel like you’re the safest place he’s ever known.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you promise, your voice just as quiet.

His arm tightens around you, pulling you impossibly closer, and you settle against him again, letting the warmth and safety of the moment wash over you. The world outside can wait. For now, this is enough.

[borbygorlinbbqworld]

imagine your partner has an oral fixation so they latch onto your boobs whenever it is possible... one day when they're sucking on it, they get a sudden call from someone so they stop. suddenly your boobs feel heavy and you feel something trickling and voila! it's milk!

Per usual, your boyfriend was suckling on your huge breasts in bed.

It was your nighttime routine, one that had started shortly after you were dating. He had been pretty upfront with his preferences; his oral fixation and his complete obsession with big breasts hadn't bothered you one bit. Any opportunity that man could have your tits in his mouth and suck, he would.

For your part, it was quite enjoyable. Not only was the feeling arousing, but it also felt nice to feel like you were nurturing someone, to provide them comfort. You hadn't overly decided if you wanted kids until this man suckled your teats at every chance he could get. Especially when he was stressed, you knew pulling your breast out for him perked him up, and he would nuzzle against your chest and suck on your nipple until he felt better.

The changes to your boobs were also a surprising addition, though. When it had started, admittedly, you already had extremely large breasts. But after your boyfriend's comfort had become a habit, your tits didn't stand a chance in hell fitting into that 36G anymore. Last you measured, you would have been up to an M cup, but with how frequently he needed to suck on your breasts, buying another bra seemed silly when they just would not stop growing. Your shirt was an obstacle enough when he was getting into it.

Besides, recently, you had swollen beyond that M cup measurement anyway. Your breasts were massive expanses, with super sensitive nipples that perked up at the slightest breath against them. Hell, even the thought of him wanting them in his mouth got them to stiffen and make your breasts feel tight. Their weight had suddenly increased too, making walking or sitting up a labourous affair; then again, your boyfriend was often hypnotized when you'd move. Your massive mammaries would sway, your always-hard nipples poking this way and that through see-through shirts you always found yourself spiling out of.

As soon as you walked through the door, your nipples hardened as you saw the expression on your boyfriend's face change. His pupils dilated, like he had taken some sort of happy pill, though realistically you knew it was the mere sight of your breasts that did it for him. The poor guy literally had to wipe drool from his mouth; lately, the action had made your breasts feel super right, almost like they were full.

With a smirk, you walked across the room past him to the kitchen to drop off the groceries.

"Fuck... I can't believe how big they've gotten, babe." He came up behind you and cupped your nipples in his hands before hoisting your breasts up. You released an immediate sigh of relief; sometimes it was easy to forget how heavy they had gotten.

He bounced them up and down, sloshing your fat around, which only made your nipples harder.

"C-Can I...?"

It was honestly surprising it took him this long to ask. With a giggle, you pulled your tits out for him. He knelt down and suckled at your right breast as you continued to put groceries away.

His mouth sucked the entire areola hungrily as his tongue did a run against the nipple. He moaned at your breast, which only made them feel tighter and fuller than they already did. His saliva against your skin made you ache; it made you want nothing more than to fill him up with liquid warmth.

Snaking your hand through his hair, you pushed his face closer to your breast. He suckled deeper, getting a moan out of you. With a chuckle, he massaged your breast, his fingers working into blue veins you had noticed appeared last week.

But your ecstacy was short lived when his phone rang. With a growl, he pulled away and looked at it; the scowl on his face told you it was his boss, a call he simply couldn't ignore.

"I'll be back, okay babe? Keep them out." He clicked answer on his phone as he left the room. "Hey, what's up?"

Keep them out.

They were swollen from the sucking, and you doubted you'd be able to out them away any time soon anyway. Your glands felt sore, like they had no more room, or like they were... full.

You shifted uncomfortably as the feeling persisted; your boyfriend hadn't been gone that long, but the longer he left you, the more needy your breasts felt. You wanted nothing more than to be suckled on until you both fell asleep.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

What was that?

You had to take a step back to see two small puddles of white fluid on the counter. It looked and awful lot like--

"Milk?"

You turned to see your boyfriend, phone still at his ear, staring with his mouth agape. His eyes were transfixed to your apparently leaking mammaries. Throwing the phone over his shoulder, he nearly raced to your side. Drool dribbled down the corner of his mouth as he knelt down and grabbed your breasts in his hands.

The touch was gentle enough, but it must have played against a swollen gland, because a squirt of milk sprayed against his lips.

Though it was only a little, the express felt amazing, and you moaned in relief. You felt his hard cock rub against your leg.

"I'm gunna fucking drink you dry."

His hot breath against your breasts made you ache even more. You pulled his head close as he took your breast in his mouth and began suckling.

It was absolutely ecstacy. You filled him wkth milk, just as you knew he was going to fill you with his seed later.

---

🐮❤️

[parkerluvsu]

day 13: shy sex <3

authors note: sorry this is so late!! i was so tired last night i literally fell asleep writing it..

every time you have sex with art it's shy sex.. but the most shy he's ever been, was the first time you two had sex.

art is nervous. more nervous than he's ever been, probably ever in his life. he'd said he was going to the bathroom to "freshen up" after you'd scooted closer to him on your bed. it's not like he didn't want to have sex with you.. he really, really did, but he's just so scared of embarrassing himself and having you laugh at him that he needed to excuse himself. art splashes water on his face, taking a deep breath and using one of your towels to dry off, lingering and smelling the left over scent of your shampoo. art doesn't want to keep you waiting though, so he checks his hair in the mirror, smells his breath and walks back out to meet you on your bed.

"s-sorry i- i had to wash my hands.." art explains, not really realizing that his excuse doesn't make sense. you nod, smiling at him. "it's alright art.." you know why he left, and you want to confront him about it. "you know.. we don't have to do anything tonight right? if you're nervous, we can wait, you know id wait forever for you, yeah?" you reassure him, tilting your head to the side. art blushes, realizing he's been caught. "n-no! it's not that.. i- i don't know.. it sounds stupid but you're just so smart and pretty and nice and-" before he can continue to ramble, you press your lips to his.

"well if you want to.. we can go slow, okay? ill take care of you.." art nods at your words, pretty much hypnotized by you. yes.. he wants to have sex with you.. yes he wants you to take care of him, he needs you to take care of him. you smile, pulling him closer by the sides of his face, and kissing him again, satisfied with how easily his mouth opens up and lets you swirl your tongue around. art mewls softly against your lips, spurring you to move his hands to rest on your hips. He moves so he’s pressed against your side, with his arms slung around you to hold you closer.

you can feel that he's hard and drooling precum against you, getting even wetter when you slide your hand down his chest, cupping him through his jeans. art groans, and muffles his whines in your hair. he's extremely eager, slipping his slightly cold fingers under the hem of your shirt, helping you pull it up and off. art doesn't even open his eyes and look at your breasts, waiting for your signal that it was okay. you giggle, grabbing his hands and placing them on your boobs, watching as his face flushes.

art is blushing like a maniac as he opens his eyes. he isn't a virgin by any means, but there's something special about you that makes him more nervous than anyone has ever made him before. it’s cute how quickly he got so shy, but you tell him it’s okay. art nods, lowering his head to suckle at your breasts like it's second nature to him. you don't know how he's so good at it, but you don't question it, allowing him to soothe himself while you pull off his shirt as well, rubbing your hands on his milky, freckled skin.

you're practically straddling his lap at this point, letting him roll his hips into you. you help art lay down on your bed, shucking off his jeans and watching his cock slap against his stomach, strings of precum sticking to his skin. art whines, flinging an arm over his face to cover his blushing cheeks. you smile, taking off your shorts as well, pressing your body to his. you move his arm away from his face, pressing kisses on his cheeks and nose. art whines, squirming on your sheets as he bucks his hips against nothing, the flush in his cheeks spreading to his chest.

you lean over art and grab a condom from your bedside table, sitting on your knees to pull it over his cock. art muffles his groans by biting his lips, embarrassed about the moans that threaten to escape them. you finally meet his eyes, "are you okay? we can stop any time if you want to.." you coo at him, trying to calm his mind. art nods eagerly, pulling you closer to his neck so he can nuzzle into you. you hover over him and sit down on him slowly, unable to stop yourself from squeezing tightly around him. art throws his head back, moaning loudly before he realizes how loud he's being.

you start to move up and down on him, scratching down his chest with you nails. art wraps his arms around your lower back, pulling you to lay against his chest as he plants his feet on your bed, fucking up into you with abandon, his previous shyness gone completely. you can't do anything but fall limp against his chest, letting him take what he wants from you. art pants and whines against your neck, licking and biting the soft skin there. you can tell that arts getting close by the increasing loudness of his whines, combined with the fact that he's jackrabbiting his hips into you, using all his adrenaline he's built up all night. art is trying to stay focused on making you cum.. but when you pop a couple fingers in his mouth to quiet him down, he's a goner.

art moans around your fingers, giving you deep strokes that you're sure would get you pregnant if he wasn't wearing a condom. art is content to lay there and let you take what you need from him, watching you rock your hips back and forth until you too tremble and shake with the force of your orgasm. coming back to earth, art sighs shakily, helping you slide off of him and lay down beside him. "are you okay?" you turn on your side and rest your head on your hand, swiping a couple of golden hairs from arts forehead. "y-yeah.. im great actually.. can we just.. stay like this for a little bit?" art looks away as he talks, his shyness taking over once again. you giggle and nod, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "of course art.. as long as you like" <3

[kentosblkgf]

Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara

Cw: size kink, mask kink, masked sex, spit, reader doesn’t know it’s Miguel …picture taking?? and choking. One sentence in Spanish. You can obviously tell I got lazy I just wanted to post something really quick <333

You had decided to have a small get together at your house. Inviting a few known friends, ofc they invited more but you had told them to come masked. It was like a little mystery, you loved mysteries. You had already known who Peter was because of his loud rambling.

He was dressed as Leatherface. A bad one at that, he looked nothing like Leatherface, he was literally wearing the green trench jacket that he wears everywhere. It was horrible.

Everyone had revealed themselves. All except the Ghostface.

His build was strong, tough even. Looked like he was made out of solid iron. The way he stood had you hypnotized. His arms crossed against his protruding chest, head tilting to the side under his mask.

He was just too good to look at. His arms were just bulging with veins. It almost made you fantasize about them having you in a head lock.

You still didn’t know who it was, but jesus fucking Christ were they strong. The way he had his fist balled into your hair and both of his knees touching the wooden floor on each side of you almost made you die.

He was manhandling you so good. The way he fucked into you made you see stars, you were in such a heavy daze. you didn’t even see the flash of the picture he took.

His cock was so thick, your walls struggled to take him with each thrust. It was crazy how one could have so much power behind them. He was enjoying this all too well. Tightening his fist in your hair, pulling your head back and using his other hand to pull the bottom part of his mask up. Just enough for you to see his puckered lips. Your mouth opened like the greedy slut you were.

He spit into your mouth, it sounded so dirty. So, vile. He’s fucking you so so so good, covering up your moans with his huge hands.

The groans he’s letting out sound heavenly, his deep grunts making shivers go down your spine. You try to get him to sit up a little to lessen the pressure of his thrust he is just not letting up.

It feels too good for him to stop. He isn’t focused on your pleasure anymore, it’s all about him. The sound of his hips connecting with yours covered in your slickness is deafening, if anyone had walked by they would most definitely hear and know what was going on.

“Fuck.” It was small very faint, you wouldn’t even have been able to tell it was him if you weren’t the one getting their brains fucked out.

You heard it as clear as day, yet you still didn’t know who it was that was fucking you so good.

His hand started gripping your hair harder before moving it down to your throat squeezing it softly. You feel a slight tug on your costume, He’s ripping the top part open and gripping a hand full of your tits.

You felt disgusted as he laughed when drool started running down the side of your mouth.

“Please please please.”

You didn’t even know what you were begging for anymore. He starts to slow down his thrusts and grips your side before flipping you over onto your back.

You could see his build so much better. His neck dripping with sweat.

His whole hand covered you face as he pushed you more into the floor, making your head turn to the side. Your face smushed into the floorboards.

Everything was feeling so good. Pink lips peaking from under his mask.

“No.” Just a small grunt

You wanted to see his face so bad. It was painful not really. You were squirming under his weight, his heavy large palms practically suffocating you.

“F-fuck, hold on just g-give me-.”

You could barely breathe, barely even speak because of the way he was practically pounding you into the wooded floor. His thrusts so heavy and full of vigor.

Tears forming at your eyes, you can feel yourself about to cum you just need.. you just need

“P-please slow,”

Your words are so slurred it sounds like you’re drunk. He’s not even letting up, not a bit. He’s too heavy, you’re gonna make a mess it’s not like you didn’t try to warn him. You begged him to slow down.

White noise is all you hear as he hits just the right spot

“Wait wait wait, p-please.”

Your hands bunching up next to your head, having nothing to grip onto for support. You can hear your mess splashing onto the wooden floor.

“So fuckin messy.”

He’s chuckling? He’s.. laughing.

Your pussy couldn’t even push him out with the force of your orgasm. He’s just too heavy and thick inside of you.

He’s heavy breathing in your ear, grunting and groan as he plows into you like he owns you. At this point he does. Fucking you like he’s possessed by something.

His thrusts become more sloppy as you can tell that he is nearing his end, he thighs smacking against the back of yours. His hips are stuttering debating if he wants to cum on you, or in you. He of course chooses the latter pushing so deep into you, you can feel and hear cogs falling out of your head and onto the floor.

He’s so deep, his thighs tensing as he releases inside of you.

Your cunt is just so warm why would he want to leave it? Well of course to see what he’s left behind. He slowly pulls out and the pearly beads of cum quickly follow, he’s using his thumb to spread you open as he watches your pussy clench around nothing.

“Absolutamente hermosa, nena.” (Absolutely beautiful, baby)

The voice. The slightest accent that you couldn’t hear before.

He pulls you so you’re face upwards and uses your hand to put you into a sitting position.

Just as you start to blink away the fucking he gave you. He’s pulling his mask off with a grin.

Miguel, your best friend.

[b00kdiary]

Wildest dreams (V)

ACOTAR The Batboys x Plus size reader

Where the reader finds herself gaining the attention of the most notorious males in Prythian and it seems that even her wildest dreams couldn’t prepare her for the night they would share.

Notes: This has Rhys, Cassian and Azriel with a plus-size reader since I literally couldn’t decide who it should be and thought that the best fantasy in the world would be all three :) Here’s to all my thick, fat, plus-size girlies who want some bat-boy love too xo

Warning: mature themes (18 +) swearing, body-image issues, smut and the bat boys being utterly infatuated with their thick, beautiful lady (FINAL PART)

Part I Part II Part III Part IV

MASTERLIST - 1 and 2

"Like what you see, Darling?"

My body shivered at the smooth purr of Rhysand's voice through my mind, caressing over me like a lover's touch, igniting my skin and blood with fire. But I couldn't reply, couldn't speak as I took in the males before me.

Who were currently shedding off their layers, one by one.

I sat on the edge of the large bed, the satin grating against my bare skin as I clenched my thighs together to stifle the ache forming between them. It was hypnotic, the three of them stood smirking and arrogant before me, the room silent as they began unbuttoning their shirts, lifting them with ease over their heads to reveal the corded muscle and ripples of strong endless skin covered with dark whorls.

My gaze didn't linger on one male for long, moving from the slender leanness of Rhysand to the hard ridged abs of Azriel and finally, the solid corded muscle of Cassian. They were ethereal, the kind of beauty that seemed unreal, and yet as they watched me, it was as if I was the most beautiful thing in the room right now.

Rhysand stalked forward on silent feet toward me, his ties loosened allowing his breeches to hang dangerously low around his hips, revealing the sharp V of his torso. I couldn't stop myself from following down the expanse of his tan chest, my eyes grazing the trail of hair that began at his navel and dipped under his breeches.

I felt the heat inch onto my cheeks, my breasts heavy and the wetness between my thighs aching with need and want. My eyes fluttered up, meeting Rhysand's star-flecked eyes and pretty tilted smile as he beheld me, still sitting on the bed, my erratic heart beating with impatience in my chest.

"How would you like us, darling?" Rhysand murmured, his voice hoarse as he dipped his head down, his hand trailing over my bottom lip and settling to cup my cheek. My mind turned blissfully blank as his lips met mine, and I didn't conceal the whimper that escaped me as his lips moved against me, his tongue delving and exploring against mine.

I thought of nothing but the feeling of him one second and then the next, images flashed through my mind.

I saw myself on top of one of these fine males, my head thrown back, my eyes closed, riding and taking every last inch of pleasure that I could get.

Then there was a flash, and I was sprawled on the bed on my hands and knees, a firm, veined grip tugging on my loose hair and sinking deep into me from behind, an unfamiliar kind of pleasure.

And then there is the final image, where I kissed down the strong expanse of muscle and skin, closer to the place where I craved to taste and explore as I was explored.

I blinked as reality came fading back in and Rhysand's violet eyes twinkled before me, amused and needy, waiting for an answer, waiting for which choice I made. That was clear- it was my choice, to be taken and treated and pleasured in whichever way I saw fit.

I wanted it all. I wanted every fantasy. All at once.

Rhysand's brow rose, a glimmer of surprise shining on his face but then he smirked, turning feral as he heard my proclamation, and saw exactly what I had decided.

'Beautiful, wicked little thing," Rhys purred, and my body prickled as Cassian and Azriel came over, blocking out any light from the moonshine, just as they had all those hours ago at Rita's. My wide eyes looked between them all, and I knew I was out of my depth, lost in how I could even begin to explore my own desires.

Cassian smiled, the face that could harden with violence and death now looked as sweet as honey and sugar, and my body melted with a sigh as he sat beside me and with the gentlest of hands, ran his rough fingers over my soft body and lifted me onto his lap, as if I weighed nothing.

I gasped against his chest, my eyes fluttering as my core rubbed against his breeches as I settled each thigh to straddle him. I bit my lip as Cassian's hands settled on my bare thighs, his hardness digging into me and I moaned into the kiss he gave me, moving down with him as he laid on his back.

"Is this alright, angel?" He questioned softly, looking up at me from the bed and my body pulsed and roared at the feeling of him under me, taking every last bit of my weight and not even noticing. I dragged my soaked, exposed core down his breeches and the groan that escaped him made me weak.

I smiled coyly as my fingers moved down, brushing across Cassian's torso and I felt his breathing hitch as I unlaced his breeches, slowly pushing them down and my heart stilled as his hard erection broke free, slapping back against his stomach.

"Shit," I muttered and the quiet laughter of the three males around me made me blush, my head ducking low in embarrassment, though the size of Cassian made my heart hammer- the idea of him trying to fit that inside me.

"Don't be scared, sweetheart," Azriel murmured, sitting on the bed beside us, his hand coming to tuck my hair behind my ears so I could see his warm eyes. "This is all at your pace, we're following you."

I gnaw on my lip and with the gentlest touch, I reach forward, gripping Cassian's length in my hand and shivering at the feel of it in my palm, at the weight and size and hardness.

"Fuck," Cassian grunted, and I grew braver, my eyes transfixed upon him as I palmed his length, my hands so small in comparison to him, enjoying every breathless moan that escaped the General beneath me.

"Cassian, may I-?" My cheeks grew hot as I looked down, the question shining in my eyes, but my tongue tied and embarrassed to say the words. He grinned, feral delight on his face, and shifted onto his elbows, pulling me into a deep kiss and lifting my hips to help me.

The first brush of Cassian's length against me made me whimper, and I didn't realise how desperate and ready I was until I lined him up to my entrance and sunk down, deliberately, and slowly. My mouth opened in a soundless 'o' as Cassian stretched me, his body rippling under my palms at the feeling of us joined.

"Cauldron," I cursed, my head dropping to Cassian's chest as he fully seated himself inside me, and the burn was so strong and yet it felt so good.

"Shit, you're squeezing me so tight," Cassian gasped, his warm minty breath brushing my cheek and I fluttered my eyes open as his hand came to my cheek, lifting my head to meet his eyes, "Are you all right, angel?"

"Yes, yes," I whispered, and my body grew unbearably hot by the attention on me, Cassian under me, Azriel at my side, Rhysand behind me- just watching. I shifted my hips and Cassian, and I moaned in unison at the movement.

I placed my hands on Cassian's chest and with a deep inhale and exhale, I rose myself up to the tip of him, before slowly sinking back down, deeper than before. He swore, and my lips messily met his as he glided his hands down the rolls at my back, his hands curving around my ass, moving me in against him.

I rocked back and forth, again and again, and beside me, Azriel growled roughly, his scarred hand tracing up my body to cup and fondle my sore breasts and his hazel eyes burned as he suckled and bit across my jaw and neck.

Cassian's eyes pinched shut, and I knew he was holding himself back, restraining himself for my sake and I adored him for it.

"Rhys," I pleaded his name, glancing over my shoulder to where he stood watching, the violet in his eyes deepening to a midnight sky, transfixed as he watched Cassian's length disappear inside me, my ass rippling gently with every move.

"Are you sure, darling?" He asked quietly as he stepped forward, his ring-clad hand running down my back and resting on my ass, his touch so bare. I nodded at him desperately, knowing he could hear and feel the desire running through me.

Cassian paused under me, his length stopping inside me, giving me the time, I needed as Rhys prepped himself. I heard the sound of a vial opening and my heart raced with anticipation as the smell of lavender filled my senses.

I tensed at the feeling of Rhysand's fingers behind me, slippery with oil as he traced uncharted territory.

"I need you to relax, darling, otherwise this will hurt," Rhys said softly, and I swallowed down the dryness in my throat, letting his calm tone sooth me. I leaned forward, grabbing Azriel's hands for support- and as he began kissing against my cheek and Cassian rolled my nipples between his fingers, I melted into the distraction.

"That's it," Rhys praised, and I gasped as his finger dipped into me, ever so slowly, stretching me out. The feeling was unfamiliar and just barely uncomfortable but as he continued, going deeper and faster, it soon eased enough that when he slipped in a second finger, I whimpered loudly.

"You're doing so well," Azriel smiled against my jaw, and the arousal that spiked through me made my head spin, Rhysand's fingers crooked inside me, knowing exactly what spot to hit. "Taking it so well."

"Rhys," My voice broke, utterly ruined, and I arched my back enough that Cassian's eyes rolled, his hard length still seated patiently inside me, my walls clenching and unclenching. "Please, I need you."

A deep, rumbling growl emitted from Rhys and I felt empty the second his fingers slipped out from me, leaving me bare and aching for that feeling again. But as that vial clinked open again, and as Rhysand pulled down his breeches, I knew I didn't need to wait long.

I arched my back as Rhys came to stand behind me, his fingers sprawled over my ass spreading me wide and as his hard, slippery cock brushed against me, I braced myself. I inhaled and exhaled slowly, and as he guided his hips forward, I found myself burying my head into Azriel's chest.

No touch or kiss was enough to distract me from this intrusion.

"Oh-oh," I scratched my nails down Cassian's stomach, my fingers moving over every ridge and muscle for leverage as Rhys sunk into me, inch by inch, the feeling so fucking full I didn't know how much more I could take. "Don't- shit- please, don't stop."

"Cauldron, Y/N," Rhys panted, and the sound made my skin ignite with fire- the sound of my name, pleading and breathless on my High Lord's lips, was one of the best things I'd ever heard. "You're going to fucking kill me clenching around me like this, darling."

The ache of them both inside me soon settled and it wasn't long before I was shifting my core, the feeling of them both within me making me gasp and the pleasure bubbling under the surface.

"Please, please," I gasped when Cassian and Rhys both rolled their hips, moving in tandem inside me.

"Tell them what you want, sweetheart," Azriel murmured against my cheek, kissing teasingly along my jaw, "Tell them how badly you need it."

"So bad, so, so, so fucking bad-" I whimpered, my body shaking now, "Please, Rhys, Cass- Please move."

They didn't need to be told twice.

I bit my cheek hard enough to taste metal as they both drew out from me and then rocked back in, their paces agonisingly slow and with them stretching both holes, hitting two spots far and deep in me, I couldn't catch my breath.

"There you go, Angel, there you fucking go," Cassian grumbled under me, his eyes wild as he watched me, tits bouncing and his hands digging into the flesh of my hips as he fucked his hips up into me, his pace getting faster.

I gasped, Rhysand’s hands curving around my waist and tugging against my breasts, his harsh breath at my ear, every push of his hips, hard and fast behind me, making me jolt and shake.

“Fuck, Gods above-“ My stomach clenched at the fire fanning in me, and all I could do was hold on as they stroked into me, the lewd sounds filling the room, our moans, and curses in tandem as they ruined me.

“Az,” I mewled, my heavy eyes turning to the Shadowsinger beside me, contently watching and enjoying the sight of me being fucked stupid by his brothers, and I draw him into a messy, bruising kiss.

He grumbled into the kiss, and I felt his scarred hands lift and wrap around my throat, the pressure on each side making my head spin and the breath catch in my lungs. His tongue moves against mine with so much indulgence and my eyes blanketed over with shadows and stars.

I sank against Azriel, my hands running over his hard and chiselled chest, scratching, and clawing as I move down his stomach and the sound that rips from him when I draw his cock, hard and slippery with pre-cum, free from his breeches, is a sound I’ll remember for years to come.

‘Your body is perfection, darling,” Rhys hummed through my mind and even through our mental connection, I could feel his arousal, his pleasure as his rings dug into me, his hips shifting and something new and intoxicating consuming me.

I stroke Azriel furiously, curses and moans falling from his lips endlessly and it melodies into the air with the sounds of our bodies moving in the room, and Rhys and Cass seem to feed off of every whimper and cry that comes from me, fucking me harder, as if imprinting themselves inside me.

“I can’t- too much-“ I cry out, too many hands, too many sensations all driving that cord within me tauter and tauter until that feeling is close enough to break.

“That’s it, Angel, so close now,” Cassian coaxes, and my body has no strength left, all I can do is plant my hands on his chest and let him fuck up into me, Rhys guiding me forward and the angle shifts, shifts so that their brushing parts of me I never even knew existed.

“Oh- oh-shit-“ I hadn’t ever experienced pleasure like this, had never been stretched and fucked and touched so thoroughly.

“Let go, sweetheart,” Azriel grits his teeth, his body trembling as my hand moves up and down, again and again, up his veined, red cock and when a hand brushes between my thighs, rubbing messily against my puffy, aching clit, it’s all too much. “Come all over my brother’s cocks now-“

There’s a spark and I’m powerless as it explodes, fanning and roaring as it burns into a full-blown fire, and it shatters every single part of me.

My back arches and my mind goes blank as every nerve in my body ignites, that pool within me draining and draining and draining until there’s nothing left, until I can’t keep up. Azriel holds me, whispering sweet nothing in my ears and my release lasts so long, edged further as Rhys and Cass chase their own highs.

"Fuck, fuck-" Cassian swore, and I felt his hips start to falter, feeling me clenching around him like a vice. It didn't take long for him to start to shake, the muscles at his stomach clenching and hardening and as his eyes clamped shut, he bucked up, swearing as he found his release within me.

The roar he released shook the bed, shook the ground and I felt his warm seed leak out of me, filling me up as his pace slowed, twitching as he came to a breathless halt.

“Rhys,” I begged, for what I didn’t know, but the pressure of him behind me was making me dizzy, that intensity too much and when I leaned back, cementing my back to Rhysand’s chest, he hissed, his arm wrapping around my body to keep me close.

My head lolled back against his chest, unable to hold myself any longer and yet, despite that fog that covered me, my hand still drew to Azriel, still wrapped around his cock, still stroked, and fisted and rubbed him, knowing he was so close.

“Rhys,” I cried his name, and the broken sound that strangled from me when his hand slipped between my thighs and rubbed at my clit, made Azriel shudder, his control wavering. “Rhys, please- can’t- it’s too much-“

“One more, darling,” He whispered against my neck, nibbling, and sucking and biting against the skin as his cock drove into me from behind, skin slapping skin and so brutal that it hurt so good until tears leaked down my face and my hand clenched around Az like a vice.

“Sweetheart, shit-“ Azriel’s voice slipped into something wholly dark, and my eyes fluttered, desperate to watch him as his entire body went hard, his hazel eyes rolling and the filthiest, lowest moan emitting from his lips as his hips jolted- and pearly white cum leaked and leaked and leaked all over my thigh and hand.

“Ruining my brother’s so good, huh?” Rhysand ran his canines over the sweet spot at my neck, hips starting to falter as I squeezed his cock painfully tight, his fingers at my clit slippery with my arousal and Cassian’s release. “Just give your High Lord one more, just one more.”

It’s like his word became a command and my body had no choice but to obey, but to submit and something dark and devastating cracked through me, an orgasm that hit me so hard and fast I couldn’t breathe.

Rhysand’s name was a prayer on my lips, a chant I said again and again, crying tears, and shaking as release razed through me. He bit down on the junction of my throat, canines puncturing flesh and white dots filled my vision as his cock jolted, and he came with a deafening groan.

Rhysand’s body and mine melted together, exhausted, breathless, and sweating and I didn’t have the strength to open my eyes much less keep my body straight, and I was glad for the numerous hands that held me up.

The room was spinning, and I winced as soreness overtook my whole body, bright and furious as I was lifted, Cassian and Rhys both slipping out from me so softly before guiding me down to the bed and pillows as if I were as breakable as porcelain.

I sighed at the feeling of the cloud-like softness under me, my heavy eyes fluttering open, and I gasped softly at the sight of all three males above me, smiling down at me with adoration on their lovely faces.

My face and body heated at the attention, and I released a heavy exhale as I shifted onto my elbow, trying to lift myself to sit- trying and failing.

“Lay down, sweetheart,” Azriel coaxed, his hands guiding me back down and brushing the damp strands of hair from my face, his touch so tender.

I flinched, a pained whimper coming from me at the feeling of something wet brushing my core, and when I looked down, Rhysand shot me an apologetic smile, a wet cloth between his nimble fingers.

“Rhys, I can do that-“

His eyes shot to me, the violet flashing brightly and the command in them, the authority, was enough for me to sigh, rolling my eyes as I dropped my head back to the fluffy pillow. I gnawed on my lip, my face twisting as Rhysand cleaned the mess dripping down my thighs and over my core, his touch so unbelievably gentle as he cleaned me.

Cassian grinned at me, praise shining in his eyes as he ran his calloused, large hands up and down my thighs, soothing every small wince that escaped me or jagged inhale of breath.

I sighed in relief when Rhysand rose from between my parted thighs, the cloth magicked away from his hand and the ache in my core slowly dwindling. My eyes flickered between the three of them, suddenly feeling far too exposed, lying here utterly naked before them.

Stupid really, considering all the very inappropriate things we had just done.

Rhys snorted a loud sound that echoed through the silent room and my face burned at the knowing smile he gave me, hearing my silly thoughts and adoring the shyness that had come back with a vengeance in me again.

“How are you feeling, darling?” Rhys asked quietly, his strong gaze trailing over every inch of me, concerned, as he took in my still trembling and sore form.

“I’m okay,” I whispered back, barely enough energy in me to speak, “Just tired, but a good tired.”

“Then it seems we did our job,” Cassian smirked, and I giggled when he slipped into the spot beside me, his large frame nestling into me as he laid down, his wings draped back and going slack as he sighed into my neck. “Sleep, angel, you need it.”

“Are-are you sure?” I muttered, gnawing on the inside of my cheek nervously, looking from Rhys and Cassian and then to Azriel, who raised their brows at me “I can leave-“

“You’re not going anywhere,” Azriel shook his head, his lips curling into a frown as he took up the spot beside me, and like Cassian, his body melted against mine, the two of them pressed against my body contently.

I giggled at the smirk Rhys threw me, the sound getting louder as Cassian and Azriel kissed against my cheek and neck, sweet, tender kisses that tickled and throbbed and felt so good.

My thighs parted as Rhysand came between them, his body relaxing as I ran my hands over his tense shoulders, running my fingers along the whorls tattooed there as he settled his body between my thighs, his head dropping to my stomach and resting there.

He groaned, a purely blissful sound, his face sinking against the flesh of my stomach, and I laughed at him, the way his eyes began to flutter as if I were the best pillow he’d ever had.

Cassian draped the biggest duvet I’d ever seen over the three of us, and I smiled as they cocooned against me, nestling into me for comfort and warmth and holding my body like it was theirs. I ran my fingers through Rhysand’s hair, his fingers digging into my thighs, keeping them hooked to his waist.

“Who would’ve thought,”  I mutter, hearing their amused laughs brush against my skin, “You big bad Illyrian males like cuddling after sex.”

“Only with you, darling.”

--------

@satellitesunshine @queenofangrymoths @highlady-ofillyria @ladespedidas @magical-mischief-makers @lyracarvahall @ummmmmwat @eerievixen @bitchyinternetinfluencer @meritxellao @rachelnicolee @fanfictioniseverything @queen-of-arda @magdalenka @bunnymallowo @azzydaddy @fanboyluvr @maddithefangirl @jeannineee @fakelust @whatthefuckshappeningrn @honeycriess @cheneyq @brujitafantomatico

[iwassupremacy]

Drunk texting bestfriend!stray kids (hyung line) pt 2

Stray kids x reader

part 1

maknae line

Summary: basically what happens when they come pick you up

Warnings: consumption of alcohol; a little bit suggestive, but mostly fluff, because Y/N is super drunk and our consensual kinks don’t take advantage of that

Bang Chan

When Chan arrived he couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head. You were sitting in front of the building, heels chaotically discarded next to you. You were sort of sitting in a fetal position, your upper body resting on your own legs. You were barley holding on to your purse in one and your phone in the other hand and your once properly neatly pinned up hair was now all over the place, hanging in your face and mostly laying on your back and shoulders. He slowly approached you, quietly as not to scare you. You still jumped and yelped when his hand carefully touched your shoulder and he shook your body. “Y/N?” You looked up and his worried expression softened at your big puppy eyes and smudged mascara. “Hi there.” He whispered, his hand softly touching your cheek. “Hi” you drunkenly smiled. “C’mon let’s get you home” Chan held his hand out and you shakily took it. Once you stood steadily he picked up your heels and your pursue and phone which in the process of standing up fell from your hand. Luckily he turned around quick enough to see you falling over and stopping your body with his. Your head was now rest on his chest, your hands loosely hanging down. “Channie” you slurred “kiss me.” Chan smiled but shook his head, brushing through your hair. “No, baby girl. You’re drunk.” Your hands landed on his chest so you could push yourself off of him. When you looked up at him he had to suppress a laugh. Your angry drunk pout was just too cute to be taken serious. “You-“ you were interrupted by your own hiccup “You just cock blocked me.” You hit him with your pointer finger when saying you “Because you were jealous! And now-“ hiccup again “And now I want your cock instead.” You innocently blinked. Chan gulped and bit his lip. “Don’t worry, you’ll get it soon enough. When you’re sober.” For now he just opted with kissing your forehead and helping you in the car with his hand respectfully resting between your shoulder blades and your hip.

Lee Minho

Minho got out of the car and already knew it wouldn’t be easy to get you out of the bar when he couldn’t immediately see you. Usually you’d obediently be already waiting for him. He huffed, rolling his eyes when he entered the bar. He immediately spotted you sitting literally on the bar, swirling your hair and flirting with the bartender. Hw huffed once again. Pathetic. He pushed his way through the drunk crowd and came to a halt right in front of you, resting his hands on either sides of your thighs, you jumped at the soft touch. Your head snapped in his direction, your face scrunched in anger. Surprisingly your expression didn’t change when you saw him. You rolled your eyes at him. “You’re not going to get me out of here!” He nodded. “Okay, so I’m just gonna stay here and wait for you.” Your eyes widened “No! You’re not going to play baby sitter!” You slurred a little which made him grab the drink in your hand and empty it out in the sink behind the bar. Your mouth opened in shock. “What the fuck? What is wrong with you?” You angrily said. His eyebrow raised and he smirked. “Come home with me. There I won’t have to play baby sitter.” You whined “Minho. Let me have fun. I just wanna make out with someone!” Suddenly he leaned in so close you could feel his breath on your face. “Make out with me.” He bit his lip and your breath hitched. “You wouldn’t-“ his hands wandered from the sides of your thighs up to the hem of your dress and played with it, his eyes never leaving yours. “You know I would. I just need you to get out of here and sober up and I promise you can make out with me any time from now on. And more.” As if you were hypnotized you nodded and hopped off the bar which led to you being really close to him, your bodies pressed together. His hands wandered up to your face and be cupped it in them, his thumbs brushing your face. “Let’s go.” He whispered and you nodded again “Let’s go.”

Seo Changbin

You were nervously waiting behind the club. You had turned the guy down the moment Changbin told you he was on his way and since he didn’t give up and followed you everywhere you went to the bathroom and climbed out the window, hoping Changbin would find you there. Then there was the sound of a car coming to a halt and hurried steps. “Y/N?!” You quickly looked up and noticed your best friend approaching you. “Aren’t you freezing? Where’s your jacket?” You awkwardly smiled at him, cringing at what you said next “I may or may not had to climb out the bathroom window.” You slurred and his eyes widened “Why?” He said while examining your body with gentle hands and attentive eyes. You took his wandering hands in yours and he finally looked you in the eyes. “I turned him down and when he wouldn’t leave me alone I fled. Please tell me, it was worth it.” He shyly smiled and put both of your hands on your face. “It was worth it, Y/N. You were right I was jealous. Not because I wanna pick up someone and have sex with them as well but because-“ you interrupted him by letting your hands slide down his arms squeezing his biceps “you wanna have sex with me?” His eyes darkened for a second but he shook his head. “So much more than that. I want to treat you right. Not only in bed but in general.” You face heated up and you bit your lip. “That’s really attractive, Binnie. Kiss me?” He leaned in, brushing your hair out of your face. Suddenly you pulled off with wide eyes rushing away from him. And then you threw up all over the side walk. Changbin gasped and rushed to your side, holding your hair. “Oh God” you whined between gulps” this is so embarrassing.” He laughed “Don’t act like I haven’t seen you throw up before or held your hair.” You just shook your head “This is different, your my boyfriend now.” His heart jumped at that and he smiled like a school boy. “Yes that’s right, I am.”

Hwang Hyunjin

The first thing Hyunjin notices was your exposed body almost passed out hovering over some random guy. Due to the state of the guys shoes he guessed he was the one from your naughty photo. At least he didn’t leave you Hyunjin thought. But he could definitely do a better job covering you up. “Hey.” Hyunjin coldly said “I got it from here.” The man looked at him. “Hey dude, this chick is like super clingy, gotta get her off from me.” Hyunjin visibly cringed at him while sitting next to the two of you carefully grabbing you by the waist and manoeuvring you onto him. “She’s also super drunk, think she’s still gonna want me once she’s conscious?” Hyunjin rolled his eyes at that. “No she won’t. Piss off now.” The guy defensively raised his hands and left, almost falling over. “Hyunjin?” You weakly said. “Hey, princess, I’m here.” You smiled up at him. Or more tried to but the alcohol got to your head again and you gulped. Luckily you didn’t throw up again. You groggily rested your body on his and muttered “can we sit down for a s-second.” Hyunjin chuckled “we are sitting down, princess.” When you didn’t say anything he carefully pulled his jacket off and wrapped you in it. After almost 15 minutes of complete silence with you napping on him, Hyunjin decided it was time to go and without a warning picked you up like a child. Your legs immediately wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck. Like this he stepped to the car and opened the door with one hand while holding you steady with the other. Slowly he ducked down and carefully sat you down in the passenger seat. He even put a hand, once it was free, on your head and whispered “careful don’t bump your head on the roof.” You drunkenly giggled and took both his hands immediately yours and pulled him down to you when he wanted to close the door. “Hyune” you hiccuped “are you really here because you don’t want me to regret anything in the morning?” His eyebrows tightened and he looked away. Encouraged by his behaviour you continued “Or are you here because you felt jealous?” Hyunjin smirked and instead of saying anything closed the door and walked to the driver’s seat. The car started and after driving a few seconds you smiled widely and looked at him with excitement in your eyes “So you wanna fuck me?” He choked on his own spit and gripped the wheel tighter as to not lose control. He had to remind himself of your overly drunk state. “It’s okay, Hyunjinnie. I wanna fuck you too.” You giggled. He shook his head a little bit and chuckled “Tell me that again when you’re sober and I might just fuck you first thing in the morning.”

I originally wanted to post this yesterday but Hyunjins part took me little longer than expected… tell me what you think please, I’m not sure how I feel about this haha

Maknae line pt 1 coming tomorrow!’

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Hi, if you're still doing cuddle prompts, could I request Mayday with hugging from behind?

If you want to, and have time, no pressure.

Life Day Comes but Once Each Year... but Mayday Doesn't

A/N: Happy Krampusnacht, Nika! My deepest apologies for the long delay on this fic, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. You can blame @cloned-eyes for my clone!Krampus obsession. Their Krampus Bad Batch art has been living rent-free in my head for a year, and I am definitely on the naughty list. Thanks for that.

Pairing: Krampus!Mayday x Reader (fem; has hair)

Rating: M (mature content intended for readers 18+; minors DNI)

Wordcount: 2.7k

Warnings and tags: established relationship but it’s complicated; fluff; domesticity; SMUT with the tiniest scrap of plot to explain how TF Mayday ended up as Krampus; allusions to spanking/flogging; monsterfucking but make it tender because it’s Mayday; oral sex; fingering; PIV; creampie; body worship; more fluff; crack treated seriously; Mayday wants to wife you up because it is literally impossible for me not to see this man as husband material; mention of wanting children; if horns not for grabbing, why handle-shaped? 

Summary: He’s a monstrous immortal who has carried out the duties of Krampus across the galaxy for a millennium. But for one night each year, just before Life Day, he’s yours.

Suggested Listening:

This fic smells like: Apres by Ellis Brooklyn (evergreen trees, snow-capped mountains, bourbon on a cold night)

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

The cabin was dark, save for the soft, warm glow cast by the lights of the Life Day tree and the flickering illumination of the fire that blazed in the wood stove. Outside, the wind howled with menace as the snow whirled in a blinding flurry, but the cabin was sturdy, and the winter storm battered fruitlessly against the walls. 

On the caf table sat two empty schnapps glasses and a half-finished puzzle, abandoned with its incomplete pieces scattered across the tabletop and the floor around it. The Life Day album you’d been playing had long since ended, and now the only sounds in your living room were the faint crackle of the fire, the muffled roar of the wind, and the quiet ticking of your cuckoo chronometer.

The scene was disgustingly wholesome, considering the decidedly unwholesome activities that had occurred on top of that very caf table not much earlier, but you were too drowsy and comfortable to care. You were curled up across Mayday’s lap, with your head tucked into the crook of his neck and your hand resting flat against his chest, just over his heart. You could feel the beat of it, steady and warm beneath your palm, and for a moment, you closed your eyes, just to listen to the sound of his breathing.

“Tired, love?” he asked, pressing his lips to the top of your head. His fingers trailed over your shoulder, down your bare arm to your elbow, and back up, again and again, in a hypnotic rhythm.

“Hm-mmm,” you lied. “Wide awake.”

His quiet chuckle ruffled the fine hairs at your hairline. “You know liars go on the naughty list.” 

You smiled and tilted your face up to kiss his cheek, brushing your fingertips along the curling length of one of his horns. “I’m pretty sure at least half of the things we did earlier were enough to land me on the naughty list in perpetuity.”

“A permanent fixture,” he agreed. His solemn tone was belied by the smile that faintly creased the corners of his dark eyes that glimmered red in the dim light. “I have a special place on it, just for you.”

“I hope it’s at the top.”

“Is that where you want to be?” He grazed the tip of his nose down your cheek and then bit your lip softly.

“On top, underneath, on the floor, on my knees—anywhere you want.”

“Careful, darlin’. That kind of talk will get you in trouble.”

“Oh, no, I would absolutely hate it if you felt the need to punish me with those birch rods of yours,” you murmured.

He chuckled quietly as his hand stole up your thigh to massage over the fading red marks and gently squeeze your ass. “Did you not get enough earlier?”

His hands slid languidly up your body, gathering up your oversized knit sweater and pushing it up and over your head, leaving you completely nude.

“You know, there’s a snowstorm out there,” you teased. “I’m going to get hypothermia.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you warm.” His lips trailed down your throat as he leaned you back against the small mountain of throw pillows and began to kiss his way down your body. “Your sofa is much more comfortable than your caf table. We should have done this earlier. Take pity on an old man’s knees.”

“I wasn’t aware that immortal, mythical beings had joint problems—Oh, that’s nice, keep doing that.”

“With pleasure.”

He draped one of your legs over your shoulder, and the other he pinned between his body and the back of the sofa. He gripped your hips, holding you in place while he took you apart with meticulous thoroughness. Your fingers tunneled through his shaggy hair and then wrapped around his curling horns, shamelessly using them for leverage as you guided his head exactly where you needed him. 

“Just like that,” he murmured, his voice vibrating over your flesh, driving every thought from your mind as his lips moved softly against your cunt and his forked tongue swirled over and wrapped around your clit. “Do that again. Show me how you want me.”

His long tongue slid deeper, caressing insistently inside your body, focusing on the places he knew so well and working you with agonizing precision. Your hips twitched up off the couch, moving without your permission as you let out a sudden gasp. His strong hands tightened around you and pressed you back down.

“Liked that, did you?” 

His tongue slid back inside, repeating the exact motion until you were shaking and whimpering beneath him, desperate and balancing on the knife edge of pleasure.

And then he withdrew, the monster.

You swallowed a choked sound of protest and suppressed the urge to grab his horns and press him back down. He smiled wickedly up at you and licked his lips.

“I could feast on you all night, love,” he said.

Then why the kriff did you stop?! You wanted to scream, but you knew it would just make him more determined to draw out your torment.

“I’d let you,” you replied breathlessly, hoping that he’d take the karking hint and put that lovely tongue back to work.

No such luck. He dropped his head back down, but instead of going where you wanted him, he pressed a kiss just above your pussy, then another, a little higher, and another, higher still, until he had kissed a trail halfway up your abdomen. He buried his face against your belly, using you as a pillow, and you were just beginning to wonder exactly what the punishment would be for murdering your teasing godsdammned Krampus lover, when he spoke.

“I missed you this year.” His quiet, surprisingly vulnerable words melted away your irritation like snow in spring.

“I missed you, too.”

He tilted his head to look up at you with soft eyes. “What did you miss?”

“Your extremely long tongue,” you quipped, determined to keep things casual despite brushing painfully close to confessing the decidedly uncasual nature of your feelings for him. 

He laughed. “Anything else?”

“Your extremely thick—Oh!” Your words were cut off by your own gasp as he slid one of his big fingers into your cunt.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you.”

You would have levitated off the couch if he hadn’t been holding you down. As it was, you let out a sound that would have been embarrassing if you’d been cogent enough for it to register. Instead, you writhed and whimpered, and when he slid a second finger in next to the first, it was all over for you. The orgasm he’d teased you with crashed into you, and your body thrashed beneath him as you cried out hoarsely. 

“There it is,” he growled. “There’s that beautiful sound I’ve been dreaming about all year.”

He watched you with voracious eyes, a subtle glimmer of red flashing in their depths as his clever fingers wrang every last drop of pleasure from your body, drawing out your climax until you felt as though your entire body was unraveling. Knelt between your thighs, with a sinful grin that flashed his sharp canines, he looked like the devil himself, come to steal your soul away.

Except he wasn’t satisfied with only your soul. He wanted all of you: heart, body, and mind, and damn him to the seven hells, because you’d given them all to him.

The sofa creaked under his shifting weight as he began to crawl up your body, still working his fingers inside you, his lips and tongue grazing softly over every curve, every freckle, every centimeter of your smooth, warm skin. 

“My sweet, perfect little one,” he murmured, withdrawing his fingers at last as he settled between your thighs.

It had been strange at first, all those years ago, to feel the thick, warm fur of his thighs when he moved inside you. You had long since grown accustomed to it, and you sighed luxuriously as he pressed into you. His hand glided down your thigh to wrap it around his hip, and suddenly, he paused.

“What’s this?”

He pulled his hand away and held up a puzzle piece he’d found stuck to your leg.

“That was definitely your fault,” you laughed.

“Guilty as charged.” He tossed the puzzle piece over his shoulder and captured your hand instead, drawing it up over your head and interlacing your fingers with his own as he held it in place. 

“Kriff, you’re so fucking tight,” he panted, his breath hot against your throat as he tucked his face against your shoulder, kissing and softly biting, careful not to break the skin but letting you feel the sharp points of his teeth nonetheless. “Your pussy is magic. You feel incredible. I missed you so much—I missed this.”

Your legs twined around his waist; your free hand tangled in his hair and then glided down the back of his neck to hold him close.

“Kiss me,” you said, and he did, without hesitation. 

His tongue swept between your lips, and you could taste the wild, heady flavor of your own body in his kiss. He began to move, setting a languid pace but thrusting hard. 

“Gonna fuck you so deep you’ll never forget me,” he whispered.

As if you could ever forget him when you felt him in every beat of your heart, every breath of your lungs, every pulse of blood in your veins. He owned you without ever staking a claim. He owned you, and he didn’t even know it.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Make me feel you for days.”

He took his time, savoring you as if every tick of the chronometer didn’t steal away another second of your dwindling moments with him. But he knew what he wanted, and he pursued it relentlessly, refusing to take his own pleasure until he’d built you inexorably to another climax. Only when he felt you clench around him and cry out his name did he finally let go. He pounded into you hard and fast, gripping your hip in one massive hand to hold you in place until at last he came with a silent snarl, flooding you with molten heat.

He collapsed onto you. You reveled in his weight and warmth, burying your face against him and inhaling his scent as if you could brand it on your memory. After a moment, he shifted off of you. He tucked you against the back of the sofa and stretched alongside you, resting his forehead against yours as he wrapped you in his arms.

“Magic, huh?” you murmured with a tiny smile.

“Magic,” he repeated. 

He tugged the throw blanket from its crumpled heap on the floor and settled it over the pair of you, and within seconds, you were asleep.

The cabin was cold when you woke, and Mayday built the fire back up while you brewed a pot of caf. It had been little more than a power nap, but still, you felt a pang of regret that you’d wasted even that much of your limited time with him in sleep. You could sleep after he left, after all. You would have a whole year to sleep.

You stood by the window, hands wrapped around your mug of hot, fragrant caf, silently observing the scene outside. The storm had exhausted itself overnight, and the resulting thick blanket of fresh snow was perfectly, eerily peaceful. It was dark yet, but the pale light of dawn had begun to outline the mountains in a narrow strip of gold.

“Sun is coming up,” you murmured. “You’ll need to leave soon.”

He came to stand behind you, slipping his hands around your waist and wrapping you in his arms as he pulled you back against his chest and rested his chin on your shoulder. “I don’t want to go.”

“I don’t want you to, either,” you confessed.

“Maybe I should stick around.”

Your heart panged, and it actually stung that he would even joke about something like that, but you refused to taint the last few moments you had with him this Life Day by getting weepy, or gods forbid, begging him to stay.

“How would that work? Considering you’re, you know…”

“An ageless, unkillable monster tasked with punishing evildoers each year before Life Day,” he supplied helpfully. “Or as I prefer to think of it, enforcing the naughty list.”

“Yeah, that.”

Your wry tone pulled a reluctant laugh from him, and he tightened his arms more securely around your body, pulling you close. “Because it’s the final year of my contract.” 

“Contract?”

“I died,” he explained quietly. “A long time ago, on a planet far, far away. In the bitter winter, under the pitiless gaze of a man who saw me as less than nothing.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, tamping down your rage at this unknown man, knowing that right now, he needed your understanding, not your righteous indignation. “What happened?”

“The Force saw it differently. I was offered a chance. An opportunity for another life.”

“And the catch was…” You reached up behind you to trace your fingertips along the curve of one of his horns. “... this?”

He nodded. “One thousand years of service.”

One thousand years. Gods.

“Was it worth it?”

He huffed softly, and his hand flattened against your belly and slid up your rib cage until it rested just below your breast. “Ten years ago, I would have said no. Ten years ago, I would have said it was a cosmic kriffin’ joke.”

“Ten years?” you whispered. “That was—”

“When I met you,” he finished. “Ten years is nothing to me. I was so close to the end of my contract that I could taste my freedom. But ten years is a hell of a long time for a mortal. I knew there was no way I could ask you to wait for a creature like me—someone you only saw once a year.”

You rested your palm over his hand and then lifted it to your lips to press a kiss against his wrist. “Good thing you didn’t have to ask.”

His hand curled around the side of your head, and he turned his head to kiss your temple. “I want to marry you.”

Your heart stuttered to a halt before giving a violent thump. “... What?”

 “I knew from the first time I saw you.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you demanded.

“I never propose before the tenth date.”

“That’s not funny!” you exclaimed.

“They can’t all be zingers.”

“Be serious, Mayday.”

“I am serious,” he said softly. “I want you to be my wife. I want to wake up next to you every morning, instead of alone in an empty bed. I want you to be the mother of my little hellspawn babies.”

You snorted, and he smiled, pressing one last kiss to the side of your head. For a moment, you allowed yourself the indulgence of imagining a future of this: waking up with him, having these moments of quiet intimacy every day, instead of squeezing as many as possible into a single day each year. It was a lovely fantasy, but your pragmatic mind refused to let you dwell on it for long before logic started poking holes in the idea.

“But you’re immortal,” you protested, “and I’ll be gone in a blink of your eyes.”

“Not after this Life Day,” he replied. “Once my service is done, I’ll age like any other human.”

“But you’ll keep the horns, right?” you blurted out before you could stop the words.

He smirked. “I think that could be arranged.”

“And really, we’ve only known each other for ten days.”

“I’ve thought about you every single moment in between. I’ve crossed the galaxy more times than I care to count, and I have seen more things than you can possibly imagine. And in all my long life, I have never seen anyone more perfect for me. I was never meant to find anyone, but I found you, and I can’t imagine letting you go.”

Oh, that’s just… That’s just playing dirty. Damn him and his silver tongue. His lovely, long, forked—FOCUS! This isn’t the time to be making decisions with your ovaries!

“You’re just bewitched by my magic pussy.”

That startled a laugh out of him, and he tilted your jaw up for a kiss. “Stop talking like a degenerate and say you’ll marry me.”

“Fine. But if baby Krampuses come out with horns, we’re getting a divorce.”

If you haven’t seen @/cloned-eyes Krampus Bad Batch art, you need to. Wrecker, Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, Echo, Wolffe.

More Mayday: Fluff and spice.

Taglist:

@523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49 @arcsimper5 @clio3kantarella

@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream

@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @marierg @idontgetanysleep @lonewolflupe

@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine

@heavenseed76 @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam

@skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @cw80831 @flyiingsly

@lightwise @swcowgal @vrycurious @thora-sniper

@reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose

@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @kimiheartblade

@dangraccoon @transactivecybermemory @etod @ivyyyyy @somewhere-on-kamino

@burningnerdchild @saneabandoned @heidnspeak @maniacalbooper @rebell-ious

[dark-and-kawaii]

୨♡୧ A Dance ୨♡୧

Summary: Raphael notices his little mouse has been acting unusual lately. He takes matters into his own hands quite literally and offers you a dance to sooth your troubles.

₊˚⊹♡ Content: Soft Raphael - Slow Dancing

₊˚⊹♡ Pairing: Raphael x F!Reader/Tav

₊˚⊹♡ Notes: A little gift for me dear @octarinecat xoxo

Raphael’s eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the sight of his little mouse’s distress. Your delicate form was curled inward as you leaned against his balcony, your usual bright eyes now clouded with worry. The evening of Avernus promised hellish storms, the warm breeze playing with strands of your hair, but you seemed oblivious to the gentle caress.

“What troubles you so, little mouse?” Raphael’s voice was soft, a stark contrast to the usual commanding tone he used while dealing with others.

Your eyes flickered up to meet his, your eyes filled with emotions he had rarely seen directed at him by you, “I- I,” you stuttered, clutching your arm as if to steady yourself, “I can’t help but worry. That you’ll have no use for me once you hold the crown.”

Raphaels heart, if one could call the smoldering pit within him that, ached slightly. Ah, to be the cause of such pain, normally he would be delighted in it but seeing you, his little mouse, his eager little pup whom is always ready to please him like this, well he didn’t necessarily care for it.

Stepping closer, his devilish presence looming, yet oddly gentle, “My dear, how naive you can be at times.”

“You are powerful, destined to be an archdevil,” you murmured, your voice quiet, “I’m just some simple creature in your grand scheme. What use am I once all is done.”

Raphael extended his hand, his gesture an open invitation, “to stand by my side as my queen.”

As your small hand slipped into his you couldn’t help but to smile at him, his eyes filled with sincerity and promises.

With a gentle pull, he brought you close to him, your body pressing lightly against his, “to provide me with an heir worthy of ruling beside me in the hells.” His voice velvety that seemed to resonate with the soft melodies of the damned souls that were summoned to play a song only for the two of you.

You nodded, a blush spreading across your face, your earlier fears and worry melting away as you placed your other hand on his shoulder. Raphael, with practiced ease, began to lead you in a slow dance. His movements smooth, almost hypnotic, guiding you with a gentle firmness that spoke of ages spent in grand ballrooms.

The balcony beneath them might have been small compared to other parts of his home, but to you it felt boundless like the night sky. Raphael’s touch was both a flame and a balm, burning away your fears and soothing your doubts. It was all so soothing, easy enough for you to let down your guard once again and rest your head against his chest, listening to his hums.

As you both moved, Raphael could feel the tension give way, and he could feel your steady breathing once more, “You are mine, my dear. And you have nothing to fear so long as you stay where you belong.”

Raphael smiled, the curve of his lips a wicked thing as he watched your form press against his more so than before. This little mouse would always be his, no matter what.

[codeopod]

The Hells dispersed into their tent and began dropping all their gear near respective beds and taking shots from the bottles Ashton managed to scavenge. Weariness and heartbreak had begun to give way to a delirious happiness at seeing their old friend return.

“Dorian! There’s someone else you have to meet!” Laudna flourished excitedly, “Oh Pâté!” She called.

Just over her shoulder a creature popped into existence, wobbling and flapping the bat-like wings that barely kept it aloft. “Yes mum watcha’ need?”

Dorian was taken aback. “Oh my god! He’s alive? He’s real? That’s a real-thing?!”

“Oh ‘ello Dory! ’s been a while.” The bird skull turned to address him.

“Dorian. It certainly has, wow, did you get…bigger?”

“He’s a bit bigger, yeah.” Imogen added, dropping her head over Laudnas shoulder.

“Oh an’ these two!” Pâté flapped out to turn and gesture at them. “They finally forked the meat pie-if you know what I mean-“

“Pâté! You crude little pest.”

“-‘ey lock me in ma’ house at night now, gets awful scary with the noises ‘ey-“

Laudna brought her hands together like she was swatting a bug midair and Pâté yelped as his form squisheed and burst into black goo. “That’s quite enough of that.”

“Oh, well-I, congratulations you two, if I am understanding his…way with words…correctly?”

“We’re datin’ yeah.” Imogen couldn’t help but laugh.

“That’s wonderful! Honestly I thought you’d been secretly together this whole time.”

“You’re not the first to say that, actually.”

“I also have a wolf in my chest! Would you like to meet him?” Laudna bounced excitedly towards Dorian, who scrambled backwards.

“A what?! I-um sure?”

Dorian watched helplessly as a massive wolf literally burst out of Laudna’s chest. He held his bladder but took several steps back to keep his shoes free of ichor. “Oh, wow-you weren’t kidding, that is a very large dog.”

The thing was half rotten and only really had fur along its head and spine. Ghostly glowing mist drifted around it and seeped from the gapping wounds in its side. It gnashed its teeth as it turned to look at him. It’s eyes glowed a sickly green that was almost hypnotizing, only breaking away when Imogen whistled and it bounded happily over to sit at her heel.

“That’s a good boy.” She cooed and rubbed at his ears.

Laudna echoed his praises. “His name is Caviar, isn’t he gorgeous?”

“He certainly…suits your style!”

Orym joined them then, watching Dorians expressions carefully. “Guys, maybe let’s save some excitement for the morning?”

“Rest does sound nice, though I may not sleep.” Dorian admitted his face darkening, “…not after seeing that!” He tried to spin it as a joke but Orym’s frown deepened.

“You can bunk with me -and Fearne- if you want?”

“…I will admit, I have missed our cuddle piles.” Dorian smiled softly. The two men stared at eachother for an extended moment while Imogen and Laudna looked between them.

Laudna snickered but Imogen’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she pressed into Laudna’s side. “Well then, are you ready for bed, baby?” She purred just loud enough to be overheard. “We can leave the boys to their…cuddlin’.”

Dorian choked out a cough, his cheeks darkening. Laudna melted, twirling her hair around a finger and smiling a dopey grin. “We can have our own cuddle pile.”

“Of course.” Imogen grinned before rocking up on her toes and pulling Laudna into a soft kiss. The hound at their side jumped to his feet and did an excited twirl, tail wagging as his master sighed happily.

“I-uh- we should just-“ Dorian sputtered. Orym resisted an eye roll but smiled fondly at the pair. “Yeah, let’s go find Fearne.”

“I heard we’re kissing?” Fearne popped up behind them with a wine bottle in her hand. “It’s about time!”

Orym groaned into his hands, face heating.

[ollieink]

𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐃!

childe x fem!reader ( wc 4.8k)

inspired by 'pretty poison' written by the very talented vent1k1n on ao3, literally so good. never thought strip russian roulette could be so smeggsy wtf.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 | dead dove: do not eat, non-con, rough sex, size difference, bit of gunplay, spitting, forced orgasm, corruption, yandere undertones, threats of murder, childe is a menace, reader has a petite body, dash of angst, russian roulette, mafia alternate universe, betrayal, please don't read if you're not comfy with these themes.

"Tartaglia is heartless."

That's what papa's soldiers said after he asked for your hand in marriage. It was a way for both ruling families to finally come to terms. Some were against it, others hopeful. And you had to admit, Tartaglia was hypnotizing. You saw him from afar one time, two times, a couple of times—from across the bridge that separated papa’s territory from his. He was the ocean come alive, all the good and all the bad. When he crossed that bridge to meet you, everything people warned you about him burnt to the ground.

Your chest fluttered on the wedding night, but it wasn't what you thought or hoped it would be. Tartaglia merely wished you a good rest before departing to his room. Of course, this wasn't a marriage of love ( you'd gotten carried away in your fantasies ), but rather a strategic move on both mafia families. Even then, the painful sprout of thorns in your chest didn't go unnoticed. Maybe it did for him. Or perhaps he did notice and just didn't care.

Papa didn't want you seeing all the bad things he did, so violence was a thing that happened from a distance. It was the same with Tartaglia. He'd tell you to go to your room when his men came in for a meeting, reassure you everything was okay—that you didn't need to worry your pretty head off. Perhaps he truly cared about you ( even if it wasn't the starstruck love you hoped it to be ), and that fleeting period in your life was the happiest. That is until you peeked into the basement of his manor, and a pair of dead blue eyes looked back.

You’re not supposed to cry over a stupid boy.

The sky has given way for a thunderous storm. Loud cracks of thunder light up the city, matching your heart's ferocious churning as you think over and over again: why, why, why? It pours rain as you pound on various doors for refuge, but everyone knows better than to open them at this hour. Crossing the bridge is a death sentence; Tartaglia’s men are stationed there, and they'd surely capture you on sight.

Afraid that he’ll catch up, you run into the city’s emptiest corner—an unsuspecting alleyway where the city lights can't reach. There’s nothing but rubbish here: overflowing dumpsters, shattered alcohol bottles someone must've thrown in a drunk daze, vulgar graffiti on the walls. Buildings tower overhead, placed so close together only a few people can walk through at the same time. The path winds 'round and 'round. You aren't sure where you're going, as long as you get away from here.

More lightning cuts through the pouring sky, and amidst it, a sweet voice calls out for you.

“Darling~”

All the hairs on your body stand, and you run faster than ever before. He's still using that sickening term, as if you really do hold a special place in his heart. Even if it wasn't real, you were content being something he felt obligated to take care of—because you couldn't help the way your heart fluttered when his hand tightened over yours, how he looked standing bare feet in the ocean shoreline. And you were happy being just an afterthought to him. But this is too cruel for you.

"Come back to me, darling. I'm sorry if I scared you."

His footsteps are getting closer and closer.

The alley takes a quick turn, and what you see next crushes all hope of getting away. A wall.

No, no no no no.

There must be another way out, but everywhere you look is a dead end. When the heavy footsteps finally stop a few meters away, you turn around. With a violent crackle of thunder, light briefly fills the alley; it barely makes a dent in Ajax's dark blue eyes. The electric crashes through the sky reflect off the taut muscles—wet with rain—on his arms. His black shirt, soaked all the way through, clings tightly to indents of hard flesh on his torso. And a smile haunts his face, kind like you remember.

"Why are you running away from me?" Ajax takes a step closer and reaches out a tempting hand. It's his left one, and the two rings on it are evidence of your weak union. "Let's go home, my love." He beckons in that familiar, gentle tone he only used with you. It made you feel special, but now you know it's just a trick.

“Bastard!” You scream with all the broken pieces of your heart. “You were just using me! I saw what you did to my father’s men in your basement, what you said about killing me! It’s a low move, you know—to murder someone in their sleep.”

Your words stir a devilish grin from him, and all traces of sweet, sweet Ajax disappear in an instant. "Ah, so you heard that too." He steps closer again, and the cobblestone wall hits your back. "It's a shame, ya know. If you weren't so nosy, I would've let you alive for a bit longer. Maybe we could've had our first kiss on the lips too, hmm? Bet you would've liked that. I know I would—you were always so kind to me. A bit too kind."

"Get away from me! If papa finds out about this, he'll kill you!" you scowl, hoping to get some leverage over this situation. But Tartgalia is a proud man. He simply laughs, as if you're a child throwing a silly tantrum.

"Well, he isn't here right now is he? It's just you and me." As his hand lifts, a flash of lightning exposes a revolver nestled against his palm.

"Ajax. . . ?"

Even his name sounds unfamiliar. The remaining bits and pieces of your heart break, not instantly, but in a way that hurts much more—slow and agonizing, holding onto hope that you know doesn't exist.

Blue eyes sweep up your body, savoring your disheveled appearance under this stormy night. Your plush thighs look so squeezable, and oh, that teeny tiny waist that's just begging to be held down.

“Let’s play a little game. It'll be fun."

Despite his voice sounding playful, the cold smile twisting his mouth wrecks shivers through you. He opens the gun to reveal six bullets settled ominously inside. “Each piece of clothing you take off, I’ll get rid one bullet. You have ten minutes before I pull the trigger, darling. Let's see if you're alive then. And if you are, I'll let you go. Promise." He chuckles at the way your eyes widen fearfully; it’s just too adorable. “Go on, I’m waiting.”

There's no way you're going to listen to him. He already messed with you enough—from the wedding vows, the delicate cheek kisses, and late-night strolls along the beach. All of it was just a pretend game for him, and the thought boils your blood just as much as it hurts.

“That game's stupid. I’m not doing anything for you."

“So, you’re gonna play tough, eh?” Tartaglia hums, unbothered by your disobliging attitude. In fact, the smirk on his face gives you the impression that he enjoys it. He points the revolver aside, and with a spark, fires it. A shrill noise reverberates through the cramped alleyway, and you jolt as the bullet whizzes past your cheek. “I won’t miss next time.”

Angry tears sting the corner of your eyes. “You’re fucking disgusting."

"You have ten minutes, sweetie. Or would you rather just let me end it all for you right now? I promise it won't hurt." There's a slight pause, then Childe's grin widens even more. "Or perhaps you want to spend your last moments as husband and wife? I know we never got the chance to be really intimate."

He'll shoot you if you try to run. For a split second, you consider trying to reason with him. Maybe he really did feel something—even if it was the most empty-minded feeling that ever crossed his cold heart. But that hopeful thought quickly vanishes. Ajax doesn't exist. He never did.

Finally, with a long exhale, you hesitatingly begin to slip off one heel.

“Mmm, good girl.” He takes out one bullet, letting it clang against the floor and roll by your feet. His gaze feels sharp along, glued to every movement, every nook and cranny of your exposed skin. When you get the other heel off, Childe hums cheerfully and drops another bullet. Papa always told you to be brave, but you’re shaking uncontrollably under this heavy aura of death. Your fingers tremble as they loosen your dress, and when the ribbons slowly but surely come undone, all the silk cascades into a bundle of light pink. A slight sigh comes from Childe the moment your adorable, white undergarments are revealed—so untouched, so innocent. Your skin suddenly feels too uncomfortably tight under his heavily inspecting eyes.

Childe chuckles as you hug yourself ( to cover up and protect yourself from the stormy weather ). Seeing you like that—all vulnerable and small—it's just too cute. He lets go of another bullet, and it lands with a sharp ting.

"Come on, take it all off," he playfully orders.

It's a decision between pride or life—an easy option for most, but difficult when it ends up in your hands. "Go fuck yourself." When you make no effort to strip any more, merely scowling at him with dewy eyes, the blue-eyed man breaks into wild laughter.

“You’d rather die than let me see you naked? Ah, how cute, but. . .” He closes the metal cartridge, spins it, then lifts the gun back up to you. “I’d think twice if I were you.”

"If you lay a finger on me, papa won't let you get away!" you glare at him, but all it does is stir a snicker. Suddenly, Childe steps forward and kicks your knee out. You hit the floor coarse with wet dirt. “Hey—!” Tartaglia wastes no time listening to your protest. He carelessly turns you over with his shoe, then presses the underside of it onto your stomach—a sharp contrast to the way he always treated you like glass. It was that side of him you learned to love, not the heartless man everyone viewed him as. Perhaps if you'd been smarter, you would've seen right through him. How love is but a fool's game to him. And how it was always his plan to use you.

A flash of thunder lights up the sky behind him, and the rain falls harder.

Your face contorts with rage. “Fuck you!"

“Quite the dirty mouth for such a sweet girl," Childe coos, kneeling down to harshly grab your chin. "Haha, you look so cute when your cheeks are all pushed up like that."

He leans in, and suddenly, a pair of lips capture yours—sweet and creamy as if he just finished a glass of honey. His tongue breaks into the wet cavern of your mouth, exploring the darkest corners. You feel the metal of his piercing, how it presses against your tongue. Each groan he makes resonates deep within your chest. Determined to resist in any way you can, you bite down hard enough to split open his bottom lip.

Tartaglia jerks back with surprised laughter, dragging his pierced tongue over the blood. "I always expected you'd like it rough, darling. But it's fine—I like it too." As if taking your defiance as a challenge, he curls his hand into the back of your hair, and with a harsh tug, smashes your lips together in a desperate frenzy.

"Mmph!" The sheer force of his kiss muffles your voice. He forcefully pushes down your jaw, giving him enough room to shove his slithering tongue inside again. Saliva trickles down into your throat, and his mouth hums against yours; it urges you to amuse him more. You refuse at first, but as his disgusting saliva builds up from just how sloppy the kiss is, you're forced to take tiny gulps, and those gulps soon turn into hesitant swallows.

After a long moment, he finally pulls back. “That’s right. Drink it up, filthy little thing.” In a fit of rage, you spit on his face, and he recoils to wipe it off his cheek. Instead of seeing anger on his face, there's nothing but the flushed look of unhinged amusement. He suddenly jams his gun into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, and you gag at the sudden intrusion. He hovers a finger over the trigger with a smirk on his face. “Wanna try that again?”

Tears blur your vision, but they're quickly blinked away. You won't let him win. You won't let this bastard get the better of you.

"That's what I thought." Childe moves the gun to the side of your head, showing exactly who's in charge. His other hand settles upon your pelvis; it nearly folds across the entire width. "So tiny. . ." You flinch as his touch moves lower, caressing all the subtle curves and dips of your flesh. "Ever been this intimate with anyone, darling?" He plays with the band of your panties, letting it smack against your hip after every tug. The ginger coos, as if your reaction was somehow an answer—the way you tremble, the way you glare at him with such lovely flushed cheeks. "Mmm, guess not. But that makes it more exciting, right?"

He suddenly turns you around, easily jerking your limbs until you're sitting on his lap. His hand falls from your neck, between the valley of your breasts, then to your sensitive bundle of nerves. Thorns sprout from the pit of your stomach. It's tingly, prickly, threatening to swallow you whole from the inside out.

"Don't touch there!"

Tartaglia lets out a low chuckle, pushing the barrel of the gun carelessly against your jaw. "Stupid girl, don't you see what position you're in? I'll show you what a man can do to someone so weak." The pads of his fingers are rough, so embarrassingly intimate as one traces your slit. "First, I'm gonna put my cock in here." He slips a gloved finger inside, and you keen at the unfamiliar disturbance. Tiny hands grip onto him tighter, desperately searching for purchase with each scarlet mark it leaves on his skin. You want to scream at him until your throat bled, but all you can muster are pathetic little whimpers.

His voice dips lower, husky with sweet poison. "Then, I'm gonna fuck you like this." His finger slowly drags in, out, in, and out. Each movement is earth-shattering, something you've never experienced before. It renders you completely useless. And despite how much you try to fight it off,fs you're losing yourself to him—body squirming, hips bucking disgracefully against his gloved hand.

"Think you can handle the real thing, sweetheart?" Childe's teasing remark reduces you to a mess of shame and boiling hot anger. You want to tell him to shut up, but your teeth are gritting together to prevent any more noises from coming out ( you don't want to feed his bloated ego any more than this ). However, as he curls his finger and hits a sensitive wall of flesh inside you, an embarrassing mewl chimes from your throat. "Heh, this wet already with just one of my fingers. Didn't realize my wife was so slutty."

"Ah!" You pitifully claw against his shirt, squeezing your legs together to make the electrifying feeling stop. But Childe doesn't give you time to rest. He holsters his gun and forcefully spreads your thighs—smeared with wet dirt, gravel, and slick—before shoving in another finger. The added friction makes you kick your feet in protest. "Nghhh! No, st-sthawp, Ajax!"

Childe's ears perk up at how his name sounds along your pretty tongue. It was something he shared with you after a night of heavy drinking. He never planned to reveal it, but the alcohol influenced him more than he thought. And perhaps it was also because of the way you looked while basked in silver moonlight.

"I hate you!" With an infuriated shriek, you pound against his chest, but that only seems to rile him up even more. His fingers hit even harder, deeper, faster. "Agh! Mmmf, n-no. . . I hate, nghh, h-hate you!"

Tartaglia lets out a snicker. "But you look like you're loving what I'm doing to you. It's not good to lie, you know that, right?" The repulsive, sopping noises of him toying with your cunt mortifies you. There's some pain, pleasure, and an exhausting sense of weakness as you're unable to do anything but lay there. "If you come on my hand, I'm gonna have to punish you for lying~"

Your stomach coils up into a wad of throbbing nerves. The lack of control is terrifying, but you still try to be defiant. "I'm not, ah, going to—!" After a harsh thrust of his fingers, with a loud cry, your body releases all that tension onto his glove. Everything goes blank for a second as your chest heaves up and down. It's so dizzy, the world is spinning.

"Mmm, looks like you need to be taught a lesson on how to be a good girl." His fingers pull out with a squelch, going to unbuckle his belt. There's a very noticeable bulge in his pants. And when he wrenches the restrictive garment down, releasing his hard, massive, swollen cock, new profound terror seeps into your guts. He's planning to put that disgusting thing in you; the thought is horrifying. You try to scurry away, only for his toned arms to push you back down. "Don't run from me." With a smirk, Childe turns your little body around to face him. His weight presses against you, slowly until you're both on the ground. The rain hits his back, droplets rolling down his sharp jaw and onto your face. "This might be a bit rough on your tiny body."

Before you can comprehend his warning, he pulls your soaking wet panties to the side and snaps his hips forward. The painful disturbance makes you wail, your cramped insides trying to resist Childe's member with all its might. It burns. White hot, like a metal rod dipped in lava. For a second, your body shuts down, vision blacking out before startling back awake.

"N-No, hurts. . . 'Jax!"

He jerks his hips, forcing his big cock deeper.

You're gonna die. He's going to kill you.

"Tight—" he hisses, then sucks in a breath that shifts into laughter. He's enjoying it; the cold sweat dripping down your face, how you kick, whimper, your sensitive insides gripping him so intensely. "Hahaha! I can't fuck you stupid if you're gonna keep clenching down me like that." He's smiling, like this is all some kind of joke. However, when you suddenly squeeze even tighter around him, that attitude breaks a little. Teeth gritting hard, Childe buries his head into the shallow dip of your shoulder. He's holding you so close with shivering arms—you can almost confuse it with love. The tender kind you prayed for, something that consumes you whole as if passing through a cloud heavy with rain.

After composing himself, he finally lifts himself back up to look you in the eyes. His face is contorted into a look of pleasure: red cheeks, eyes sharp with wicked amusement. "Ghh. . . W-What did I just say?"

You squeak as he rolls his hips, slipping in a few more inches you didn't realize existed ( it already feels so full ). When he makes a small pump to adjust to the wet heat, your eyes squeeze shut at the throbbing pain. It's too big—the tip feels like it's going to tear through your cervix. But just as you think it's pushed all the way to the hilt, your eyes go wide as he forces in a few more inches inside.

"Ahhh!" You glance down, horror flooding your veins at the sight of there being more to take in. His cock stretches past your limits, making your stomach protrude a little with its shape. The filthy sight burns hot shame throughout you. He's really inside. Not wanting to look at it anymore, your eyes wander elsewhere, but Childe isn't merciful enough to give you that salvation. He takes your chin and forces it forward.

"Look at me."

It's cold enough to see his heavy breaths come out as wisps.

The ginger flutters his eyes, taking a moment to savor the feeling before he fucks you loose. “Such a needy hole for me. So tight, and so fucking warm." When his member draws out slightly, the glossy sheen covering his hard, veiny skin makes you dizzy.

“Let go of me!” you command him, holding back the hot tears brewing in your eyes. In an attempt to relieve the pain, you lift your hips off the hideous thing, but a strong hand grips your waist and jerks you back onto it.

“Mm, now what did I say about not running away?”

Childe pulls himself out to the tip.

Knowing what's coming next, you shout, "W-Wait!" A screech claws out of your chest as he slams back inside with a heavy, wet squelch. Searing pain unfurls inside your weak body, the excruciating thrust of his thick cock too much to handle. You tremble as he withdraws again, agonizingly slow as if to see what other cute reactions you're capable of making. "No, stop—!" He doesn't listen, chuckling as you scratch the muscular jut of his shoulder blades.

“Haah, fffuckk, that’s good,” he admits, thrusting hard back inside with a grunt—so brutally you think for a moment that something split inside you. It’s his massive girth that stretches your insides uncomfortably, the way he’s so much bigger, how he didn’t bother being gentle. The tears you’ve been trying to hold back spill out, and you scream as he sets an unforgiving pace. His body is much bigger, stronger than yours. He easily rocks you back and forth—like you're just some fuckdoll for him to use whenever and however he pleased. All your cries and the way you slam your fists against him are ignored. “Aww, are you crying?” His voice drips with mockery.

You hate it. You hate it so much.

Your hands push against his chiseled stomach. "Get out of me!"

Tartaglia laughs in a way that makes your cheeks burn helplessly. "You're still fighting? Don't you see it's useless, stupid girl." He squeezes your wrists together and pins them above you. There's no way he can possibly hold you down with just one hand, so you struggle, and struggle, and struggle. But nothing budges him at all. His lips are back on yours: kissing hungrily, teeth biting, tongue not wasting any drop. The hot and slimy kisses trail to your collarbone, leaving thick trails of drool. It's like he's salivating at the thought, the feeling, the everything about you.

"I'm not your toy!" you scream at him.

The blue-eyed man lets out a stuttering breath, followed by a snicker. "But you're my wife, which means we're bonded together for the rest of eternity. Remember our vows? Until death do us part." He groans, shifting his weight back a little to get a full view of your adorable face—all red and tear-streaked. “Haaah, you’re so cute when you make that stupid face. That kind of expression would drive any man wild, so don't go showing anyone else." Childe lowers himself to whisper in your ear. "Or I'll get really mad.” He grabs the plush of your thigh, jerking it onto his shoulder to better fuck you into the concrete.

"Ah! Stop, Ajax!"

"That's right, say name name just like that. Go on, cry it all out," he grunts. The shameful wet noises of his hips pounding into your cunt—over and over—fill up the alley. You want to block it out and only listen to the crackles of thunder, the rain as it swallows you up in a bitter cold. But each thrust of his dick breaks your resolve little by little. You’re afraid of someone stumbling down this path and seeing you like this, but you also yearn to be saved.

"H-He. . . lp." It hurts to say anything; your throat is hoarse from all the screaming and pleas for him to stop. "Papa, help me. . ."

The moment you call out for your father, Childe's grip tightens into steel. A punishing thrust rips a cry from you, trembles wrecking through your lithe figure. "Pay attention to me." His voice comes out a low growl. Your vision that was starting to black out returns abruptly. "Who's fucking you right now? Who's making you their bitch? That's right, me. So just forget about everything else and only look. at. me."

There's something so harsh about his words and it confuses you. You've never him like this before—the way he's looking at you with those terrifying eyes.

He glances at the slick gathered between your hips. "We're making such a mess. Finally consummating our marriage after all this time, hm?" Childe takes your left hand, and in a surprising gesture of intimacy, kisses the rings on it. You watch in disbelief as he lifts your hand to his cheek, nuzzling against it—like your warmth is his only flame in the middle of a freezing winter. A strange look dawns his face; you can't pinpoint it no matter how hard you try.

You flinch from his touch despite how gentle it is. "N-No, stop. . . I can't do it anymore. I'm gonna die."

Something flickers across his face, but it's quickly covered up with a smirk.

"Mmmf, you're tightening up again," he heaves out. There's no smile on his face anymore, a concentrated expression taking its place. You feel every bit of his sweat on you, as well as the way your ribcage rattles with how resonating, deep and full his moans are. "I s-should've been, agh, doing this more often while I—ghh!—had the chance." Suddenly, his eyes narrow, cock quivering. "S-Shit, 'mm close. Gonna fill you up nice and good. You'd like that, yeah?"

When you shake your head frantically, he takes out the revolver again and aims it between your eyes, hand trembling slightly from the intense pressure wrapped around his cock. “I’ll blow your, nghhh, p-pretty brains out after I fill you up.” That dark promise widens your eyes in fear; the adorable reaction makes him bursts into wild laughter. But from the way he bites his lips soon after, eyes filled with desire, it's clear that he's struggling to keep himself composed. “Ah, that look on your face; it’s too good! There's still two bullets inside. I’ll do it, darling. I’ll really kill you.”

"Ajax," you plead with a cracking voice. The look on your face must've been priceless ( maybe it was the despair, the defeat, the betrayal, who knows ). His body suddenly shakes with hearty laughter.

"Ha, hahahah! You can be so, so, so cute when you want to be." Childe lets out a low groan. With one last violent thrust, he releases all his cum—in hot, sticky spurts that leave you shivering—deep deep into your womb.

Everything goes numb, the loud thunder and pouring sky becoming white noise.

You stare up at Childe as he spins the revolver's cylinder one more time. The bullets in their cartridge rotate with a clinking noise, metal on metal, beckoning death from its slumber. There's a chance you'll die, and a chance you may walk out of here alive. But your heart is broken, and no one can survive without a functioning heart.

Childe smiles; it isn't playful but rather weak. "Ha, don't look at me like that. It makes me feel kind of bad. But don't worry! If you survive this, I'll let you go like I promised earlier."

He presses the nozzle against your forehead slowly—perhaps to prolong your despair, or maybe it's because of something else. You think you see something change in his blue gaze, but those eyes are still dark—as heavy and cold as a thousand seas. Even then, you find yourself clinging to that tiny spark of light.

"I love you."

The words spill out from your mouth.

Tartaglia sucks in a sharp breath. His eyes widen, filling with some strange emotion you've never seen in them before. After a bit, he squeezes them shut, as if your words seared his flesh. "Don't say things like that either." He finally looks at you with an unclear expression, one that surely isn't warm but not cold either. "It makes me feel like I'm gonna do something I regret."

His finger moves to the trigger.

And you wait for what's to come.

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## 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐘 | thank you for reading! got sick and tired of proofreading, so you'll probably find grammatical errors or clunky sentences. but wow i actually managed to write something kek.

( 10.21.23 ) ( © ollieink | my box is always open ! )

[crypticminx]

Since you wanna talk about Felix :)) just a thought but I feel like Felix would be so needy in a relationship, sure he’s absolutely the coolest guy anyone could be around but he’s so smitten for you. Just always pining for your love! Constantly holding your hand or has an arm wrapped around your waist, muffled responses to anyone trying to speak to him while he’s in your presence on account of his lips being pressed to your cheek, head, neck, doesn’t matter! He just wants to be touching his girl

110%

If anyone saw you without Felix it would either be because he was fetching you something—a latte, some books, literally anything or he would be out of town. That’s not to say when he’s far from you in distance he’s out of touch. In fact, he’s always texting you. You’ll always have a special place in the back of his mind.

When you’re out and about, holding your hand is a must. He wants everyone to know you’re his and god help anyone who does anything so small, something like eyeing you down, because the next second he’d be all over their case. It really doesn’t help others that’s he’s extremely tall and overbearing. He’s a shield for you, but Felix lives for that. He loves to act all tough and protective, which he is, but once the two of you are back home he’s constantly giving in to you and begging for your comfort.

He’ll lay on your chest as his legs practically dangle off the bed, falling asleep to the hypnotic motion that are your hands playing with his soft hair. It’s so relaxing that you’ll catch him snoring into a deep, comfortable sleep.

He’s an angel

[skellyflowers]

Heartbeat

I didn’t even see Phantom coming. One moment I was talking with my friend, the next my world was literally turned upside-down. Phantom is pretty sneaking but normally he will announce himself. So when I found myself thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, I was really caught off guard.

“PHANTOM!” I finally said when I recovered.

“Hi Angel.” He answers, wagging his tail.

“I was talking to my friend.”

“And now you're not.”

I wanted to stay mad at him, but I really missed him. Phantom had been busy for the last 2 weeks with things for Ghost. I know how important touring is to him so I tried not to complain. But I would be lying if I said I hadn't missed him.

In no time at all we end up in the ghoul den. Some of the ghouls watching as I am carried to Phantom's room. He kicked in the door and tossed me on his bed. He closed the door and then started to rummage through his drawers. He eventually pulled out an old Ghost t-shirt and threw it on the bed.

He then walked to stand in front of me and held out his hand. When I grab it he gently pulls to him. He puts our foreheads together and I hear his purring rattle around in my head. His hands cup my face as his thumbs rub my cheeks. He then slides his hands down and starts to unbutton my uniform.

After undressing me he puts the band shirt on me and pushes me back on the bed. Phantom then undressed himself until he was in his boxers. He then pushed my legs open and laid down on my chest. Cuddling is not where I thought this night would go, not that I’m complaining. I put my hands in his hair and was immediately met with more purring.

After a few minutes Phantom lifted his head to rest his chin on my chest. Between his horns I could see his tail wagging back and forth. I could see quintessence swirling in his eyes. It was hypnotizing. 

“I missed you Angel.” He said, breaking the silence.

“I missed you too, Bug.” I responded. Somehow his purring got even louder.

“Sorry that I have been so busy. Papa really wants the performance for the Ministry anniversary to be perfect.”

“It’s ok. Pretty much everyone is working on the anniversary preparations.”

“I know but, I don’t like that practice runs so late.” He complains. “You are usually asleep when we get done and I don’t want to wake you up.”

“We can make up for lost time after.” Phantom’s tail is now loudly thumping against the mattress. Clearly he already has ideas.

“I love you Angel.” He says, laying his head back down on my chest.

“I love you too, Bug.”

Just before I fall asleep Phantom picks his head up once more.

“Do you think Papa will let me bring you on tour with us?”