#rip hunter you were hot
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VENUS KARMA
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"over a hundred of us" and they all shut up and stand down the second my guy enters the room.....when i tell you he's got a fucking reputation, i mean he's got a REPUTATION babey!!!!
#( ooc. ) OUT OF CIGS.#i go BERSERK over this scene EVERY SINGLE TIME I READ IT#he was hot as fuck for this i can't lie#then zatanna afterwards going 'you don't have any power to speak of?? any of them could have ripped you apart???? but they were scared???'#and he's like 'haha yeah :) a magician never reveals his tricks lmao' he makes me INSANE#( visage. ) AND I'M A BASTARD.#( zatanna zatara. ) ANNATAZ ARATAZ.#( tim hunter. ) BOY WONDER.#sched.
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for valentine's day, i thought i'd buy a gun.
synopsis: you make your husband mad on purpose tags: fem! reader, married couple, blood&injuries, demi alastor, suggestive/steamy, just a short kinda bad drabble to break my writer's block, ooc-ish alastor, soft alastor at first, vox mentioned don't like? don't interact.
"Cher!"
Alastor greeted you with a smile, his lips curved into a charming yet slightly crooked grin that softened the rugged edges of his appearance.
Leaning against the door frame, he looked every bit the rogue hunter returning from a hunt. His once-neat attire bore tears, burns, and scratches, with both knees of his pants ripped and scuffed thin. His monocle hung loosely on his chest, the glass broken and shards glinting in the light. Tousled strands of crimson hair fell haphazardly across his forehead, framing his rugged features, while a trickle of blood from the cut on his lips dripped down his chin, staining his deathly pale skin.
"Christ!" You jolted off the hotel bed, propelled into action by concern, your heart racing with worry. You began running around, collecting towels, extra clothes, and a first aid kit in a frantic rush.
Alastor moved into the room and stood in the very center, observing your frenzied activity with an amused smirk.
Finally, with all your materials in hand, you rushed to your husband's side, your footsteps echoing against the cold carpet.
"What happened to you?" you asked, filled with concern as you assessed his injuries, your eyes scanning his form for any more signs of distress.
"Just a little scuffle on the hunt, my doe," he replied with a cheer in his tone, spinning his staff in his hand. "Came across a feisty, moronic beast. But nothing I couldn't handle."
"A scuffle?" Disbelief colored your voice as you got on your tiptoes, straining to reach up and dab at the blood on his chin with a damp towel.
Alastor grinned down at you, his eyes tracing your features with tenderness. Always such a pretty view, but seeing you so domestic and sweet for him made him begin to feel hot below the collar. Leaning down, he reached out to sweep a stray strand of hair from your eyes, his long, sharp claws grazing against your skin.
"That can wait," his voice crackled with low static as he pulled you flush against him, chest against chest. "I've missed you dearly."
“Good heavens, Alastor, you’re insatiable,” you chided him playfully with a swat, though the warmth in your tone betrayed your affection. Your fingers lightly brushed against the rough fabric of his torn shirt as you urged him to let you continue tending to his injuries. "Let me fix you up first."
Alastor's ears twitched back as he rolled his eyes at you, but his grip remained firm as he pulled you closer and closer until you were practically dragged towards the bed, falling into his lap with a gentle thud.
"Love," you began to protest, but before you could continue, he silenced you with a deep kiss pressed upon your lips, a low chuckle vibrating against your own, melting any further protest.
He drew back briefly, only to dive back in, his lips tracing a delicate path along your neck. With a familiarity born of passion, his hands roamed, each touch igniting a cascade of sensations that threatened to consume you both.
"Al," you whimpered, unable to resist the intoxicating allure of his touch. As his lips began to trail up your jawline, you found yourself melting into his arms, the tension of the earlier encounter gradually dissipating in the heat of the moment.
He let out a dark chuckle, the sound echoing in the room, as he threw off his ruined coat and loosened the tie around his neck. Gripping onto your hips with a firm hold, he all but threw you off his lap and onto the bed.
The smug bastard. He knew all too well that his affections could smooth over any trouble he found himself in.
"Alastor," you murmured, your senses cutting through the haze of desire, "We really should attend to your wounds first."
Alastor began to move towards you, his claws digging through and tearing the mattress beneath him. "In due time, my heart."
"I am serious," you insisted, ignoring the wide smile you received in return. Alastor merely hummed, a low, melodic sound, as he moved to press himself against you, encasing you in an embrace that felt simultaneously comforting and confining.
You leveled him with a glare. Gritting your teeth, you continued, "What did you even do? I know damn well you didn't get these," you gestured to the charred edges of his shirt, "from an animal."
"Well, dearest, it was from an overlord meeting. You understand how tense politics can become," Alastor countered with a laugh.
"Bushwa," you scowled, jabbing your finger into his chest. "I know a lie when I see one."
"Rather accusatory," Alastor hummed, his tone dismissive.
"Well, I apologize for worrying about my husband, who looks to be on the verge of collapse any moment now," you snapped, frustration seeping into your voice.
"So enough of this," you scolded, your expression hardening. "What did you do?"
"What was necessary," Alastor scoffed, a mirthless chuckle following.
"I'd say he deserved it. You should have seen the way he looks at you," he continued, his voice low and tinged with a hint of warning, the air around him crackling with static.
"Who?" you asked, leaning down to meet his gaze. "There are plenty of people. Plenty of looks."
"Don't act as if you don't notice that pompous television bastard hanging around the hotel nowadays," Alastor's voice crackled with dark intensity, the radio static grew stronger, prickling against your skin and nearly making his words incoherent.
So this is what it's about?
You couldn't help but roll your eyes at Alastor's jealousy, though a small part of you felt a flicker of flattery at his protectiveness.
Your husband's irritation simmered beneath the surface, evident in the subtle set of his jaw and the way his normally smug gaze turned icy. But a mischievous spark ignited within you, tempting you to push his buttons just a bit further, to dance dangerously close to the edge of his patience.
"Are you talking about Vox?" you asked with a smirk playing at your lips. Tilting your head coyly, you met Alastor's gaze with a glint of mischief in your eyes. Your voice was laced with honeyed sarcasm, dripping like molten gold from your lips.
His expression darkened at the mention, a flicker of raw anger crossing his features before he regained his composure.
"You know well who I'm talking about," Alastor's grin was uncanny, his voice carrying the same tone you'd heard the night he faced death. "Don't toy with me."
Despite the seriousness of his tone, you couldn't resist the urge to tease him further. A playful smile danced on your lips as you reached out, gripping onto his tie and pulling him closer, closing the distance between you with a pull.
“What if I found him charming?” you breathed out against his lips, your voice a tantalizing whisper as you ran your hands up the fabric of his undershirt. Your touch was featherlight, fingers smoothing down the wrinkles of his torn button-up with a teasing caress. “I might have let him have me right then and there.”
A sudden sharp pierce of a distorted screech, like a radio malfunctioning, cut through the air, shattering the moment. Claws flying up to grip your face, Alastor broke the kiss and stared down at you with glowing blood-red eyes, their intensity piercing through you. Your breath caught in your chest at the sight, your heart pounding in your ears as you were overcome by a mixture of fear and anticipation.
Alastor called out your name. It was the first time you had heard him utter it in a while. Throughout the years, he had always addressed you by endearing nicknames, leaving you half-convinced that he had forgotten your actual name.
But as the sound of fell from his lips, despite the danger, you found yourself yearning to hear it once more, to feel the weight of your name on his tongue.
"My sweet," Alastor tutted, a screech of radio feedback following him as he cupped your neck in one hand, guiding your gaze back to him. His touch was possessive, firm, and demanding, akin to the control of a puppeteer manipulating his marionette.
"Never utter such words again," he growled softly, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His grip tightened ever so slightly, sharpened claws a warning of the consequences should you dare to defy him. "No one else shall lay claim to you."
With a defiant tilt of your chin, you met his gaze head-on, refusing to back down in the face of his dominance. "And what if I refuse?" you challenged, your voice steady despite the fear that coiled in your belly.
Alastor's lips curled into a manic grin, his canines shining beneath the lights of the room, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he leaned in closer.
"Then you shall suffer the consequences."
#have this shite drabble sorry for no writing :P i had a competition yesterday and the results come out today + i have prom tonight lolol#sephiewrites#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin hotel imagine#alastor imagine#hazbin imagine#hazbin hotel x you#alastor x you#hazbin x you#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel#alastor#hazbin vox
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Tender (Sung Jinwoo)
TAGS: Alpha!Jinwoo/Omega!F!reader, a/b/o, knotting, spooning, breeding, impregnation,drabble Ao3 ver. | Ko-fi | Commissions (OPEN)
If there is one thing that S-rank Hunter isn’t known for, it’s tenderness.
For what use is such softness when he must traverse the treacherous dungeons to subjugate monsters and demons beyond human comprehension?
Just as they would have no remorse feasting on his flesh and grinding his bones, so must bear the same ruthlessness, if only so he could return home to his waiting family.
But once the door is closed, he removes that brutality as easily as one would take off a coat the moment they get home from work.
How can a man who lifts his child high up in the air before pressing a kiss to their forehead be the same man who rips and tears through unholy hordes on an almost daily basis?
And while his movements were desperate as he rutted into you in the wee hours of the night once your son is tucked into bed, there is no savagery in the way his lips and hands worship your body.
How could he not when you are perfection incarnate?
“All this for me? You’re spoiling me too much…” Jinwoo sighs into your neck, blowing hot air against the mark that marred your smooth skin as he spooned you.
And with his knot locking you both together with the promise of new life being formed within your womb, your alpha purred lowly at the subtle change in your scent.
#lexsssu writes#solo leveling x reader#solo leveling#solo leveling smut#sung jinwoo#sung jinwoo x reader#sung jinwoo x you#sung jinwoo x y/n#sung jinwoo smut#crossposted on ao3#sung jin woo x reader
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lipstick, baby
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Summary: Dean liked to indulge as a demon. On food, pie, women. To him, it’d just be him seducing every single girl that came by with a wink and a flash of his pretty smile, then they’d practically be spreading their legs for him. Then there’s you. There was something about you, that had him coming to you instead of you to him. He wasn’t really complaining.
TW: Drinking, Demon!Dean objectifying women but also being hot at the same time, badass reader, smut, mention of Sam, Crowley being a wingman, reader has a bone to pick with Heaven, reader’s a former hunter
STW: Riding, thigh slapping, ass slapping, tit slapping, whiskey play, temperature play if you squint, really filthy stuff, dirty talk, unprotected sex (do not try at home unless you are married and want kids), switch!Dean, switch!reader, marking (except Dean’s is marking with lipstick), uhh- mentioned dacryphilia?, degradation on both sides (use of slut, pussyslut), face sitting, fingering, slight exhibitionism?, praise kink if you squint, oral sex (m + f receiving)
Song Inspo: Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande
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Whiskey every day really was the fine life, Dean mused as he finished his fifth glass of whiskey in the fifth bar he’d hit in three months.
Sam, of course, had been on the lookout for his location, but he never stayed in the same place for very long, which made him harder to find. It was fun, of course. Sex with women night after night, hearing them scream for him as he broke Crowley’s bed with no regrets. Anything to satisfy his high sex drive. Then he’d move onto a new one, and see them struggle to walk the next day. They’d shoot him a sultry, almost inviting look for him to fuck their legs out (they didn’t have much brains, so legs were the next best option), but he didn’t care. It was always a one use for him, not much more than that.
The bartender, a sweet piece of eye candy with long brunette hair, creamy mocha skin and a smile that told him all he wanted him to do to her, passed him a new glass with three fingers of whiskey, her fingers brushing his with promise of her getting on her knees and using her fingers and mouth on his cock.
Too bad, cause she did that a few days ago on her break, right before he blew her legs out.
The clearing of Crowley’s throat snapped him out of his inner monologue, having Dean glancing towards him on his right side. “Courtesy of the lady across the bar.” The former drawled, nodding across the bar counter.
Dean rolled his eyes, scoffing lightly and looking across the counter- god-holy-damn.
Your hair, your eyes, your lips. Those pretty things stretched into a smirk that could only be sultry as you nursed a whiskey, your scarlet lipstick leaving a print on the rim like the one he had on his napkin. It instantly sent thoughts of those prints on his chest and abs through his mind. Over his anti-possession tattoo. On his cock.
Dean wordlessly stood up, making his way slowly over to you. He took notice of everything. The corset bra underneath the red plaid that was left open. Ripped jeans that clearly had garters visible and the beginnings of sexy nylons visible.
Oh, he approved. He definitely approved.
“And who might you be, sweet thing?” Dean asked, voice low and panty-dropping and rough. He leaned his side against the counter, his eyes taking their sweet time in analysing every dip and curve of your body and imagining his hands on them. His own body burning as if your hands were already on him. Damn, that ring on your middle finger would feel so good.
“Said it on the napkin.” You replied, and then he nodded, checking it again. Ah, now he saw.
Dean offered you a smirk that was enough to make any other lady’s legs open wide, but yours didn’t. You just offered one back. “Pretty name.”
“Will I ever know yours, or will you remain the handsome, mysterious stranger who comes here every night?” Paired with a chuckle and a slow sip of whiskey right over the previous red print you’d left on the rim. Damn, you were good. Just the sound of your voice was enough to have him twitching in his jeans.
“Dean Winchester.” He drawled, his tongue tracing his teeth, hoping to sink them into your skin and mark you. A bit of a detriment to the enticing visual was the obvious mark of being a hunter. Dean could tell one of his former own. There was a silver knife in your boot. “And you’re a hunter, sweetheart. Here to kill me?”
The question had a scoff coming from your mouth. “Hunter? Baby, no, you got me all wrong. I’m not a hunter, especially after the dicks who call themselves angels have been makin’ good America into a clusterfuck. I doubt I’m gonna be happy with ‘em. This knife ain’t for you.”
The statement had a grin spreading on Dean’s face. You hated heaven, he liked that. You spoke your mind, he liked that. Your words rolled off your tongue, he liked that. He liked you. “Got a bone to pick with heaven, darlin’?”
“Less a bone, more an eyeball, but call it what you want.” You shot back with a sip of whiskey. Yeah, you were really good.
Dean’s hand found your hip, gripping it, his thumb pressing into your skin. “Can I call you what I want, baby girl?”
“You’re already doin’ that, Dean, I doubt there’s much more ground to cover where that’s concerned.”
“Damn straight.” He grinned, getting closer and closer. He felt your hand on his bicep, gripping firmly. Your hand on his shoulder, creeping up to thread your fingers in his hair. It all felt so… dizzying. “Tell me, what’s a fine piece like you doing in a bar like this?”
“Just passing through, seeing the sights.” Oh, dear Lord, now he could feel your breath on his. Dean was used to having control as a demon. “And now… I got another one on my list.” This time, it was like there was a rope and you were holding the other end of control instead of him holding both ends. Cause right now, all he could think about was how your thigh pressed in between his legs, grinding firmly against the bulge made by his rapidly-hardening cock.
The friction had a low groan rolling off his tongue, but it was sealed from the others in the room by your sweet, dizzying lips, your hand on his bicep sliding to his upper back and pressing him closer. By base, pure instinct, his hand on your hip pulled you closer, movements slow, calculating as you both shared your whiskey palette with every searing kiss.
Dean could take in your scent from the proximity. Earthy spices. Sharp perfume. The distinct musk of whiskey. All enough to make a normal man’s head spin. Made him want to add the sweet taste of your pussy to the menu.
And all at once, all too quickly, your lips left his, but burned a trail from his jaw to tease his earlobe with your teeth. “How about we ditch the party and go somewhere more comfy?” You murmured, your nails raking over the fabric of his shirt, over his chest. “Place is kinda dead anyway, and you seem like all kinds’a fun.”
“Mm.” He hummed in agreement, fumbling with his wallet and slapping a random amount of bills on the counter. “I’ve got a place.” Humming again, he grabbed a handful of your ass, rolling it before slapping it firmly. “Let’s go, darlin’. Now.”
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“Fuck.” You stumbled back through the door to Crowley’s room, Dean’s lips attached to yours like you were his last dying breath. The room itself was a grand one, with a queen size, pieces of lux furniture and two beside tables, one of which having a bottle of whiskey on it.
One of his hands was tangled in your hair while the other was, like before, groping your ass, harsh breaths coming in bursts against your mouth. His scent of whiskey, beer and old leather mixed with yours, a cocktail of dizziness and heat and pure sex.
Dean was too preoccupied with the way your scarlet lips fell, smearing onto his own and then his skin, as you’d abandoned his lips to start laying your claim on his neck. And he wasn’t sure when his flannel and undershirt made it to the floor, but it did, and now he was bare chested and sporting red lipstick marks all over his chest, and the numbers were climbing.
He groaned, his hand tangling in your hair, reminded of his old self (however much he didn’t want to be, but now he wasn’t really complaining), his love then of being dominated by a woman and damn, was he enjoying it now.
Perhaps because it was you who was dominating in this moment.
Doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to revert back to his preferences.
Dean tugged your hair, baring your neck to him and allowing him to attach his lips to your neck, unclipping that godforsaken corset bra with a hum, finding your bare tits. “Fuckin’ gorgeous.” He murmured, reaching a hand up to roughly grope one of them, his mouth descending to one nipple and letting his mouth envelop it, sucking harshly and flicking his tongue over it, his index finger and thumb toying with the other in tandem with his tongue, pulling or pinching with each suck.
“Shit-” Your hand flew to his hair, arching into his touch with a low moan and a couple more expletives. The feeling was electrifying— cause damn, did this man know what he was doing. He switched his attentions, swirling his tongue around your other nipple before sucking over and over and over, wanting to draw as many sounds from you as possible-
Wait, why was he sucking on air suddenly?
Dean looked down to see you on your knees, undoing his belt buckle with a surprising amount of efficiency and popping the button on his jeans, pulling down the fly. They pooled my his feet, and he kicked them and his boxers off- holy shit.
You’d taken Dean’s cock into your mouth, the whole expanse, swirling your tongue like he did on your nipple and taking the whole length of him, right until he hit the back of your throat, relaxing your throat to avoid your gag reflex from kicking up.
Dean’s fingers twisted in your hair, a strangled groan leaving his mouth as his hips bucked into your mouth. “So good, baby girl.” He choked out, gritting his teeth. “So good with those pretty lips around my cock- son of a bitch.” As expected, the lipstick not transferred to his mouth and chest was now on his skin, and he didn’t mind one bit.
You pulled almost all the way off to suckle at his tip, a motion that had him jerking once and then twice once you took him back into your mouth with hollowed out cheeks.
“Keep that pussy wet for me, darlin’.” Dean grunted, his head tipping back. “Keep it as wet as that beautiful mouth.” And you obliged, your hand moving to undo your jeans’ fastenings, slip past rub and toy with your clit, your pussy already damp from his ministrations on you.
Your hand gripped his thigh, and with a few well-timed swirls of your mouth and assistance from your hand, he was spilling into your mouth with a drawn out moan of your name. It was like white hot sparks went through his system, but he recovered quickly, pulling you off his cock once you’d swallowed every last damn drop.
With a well-practiced move, he hoisted you to your feet and threw you over his shoulder, striding across the small distance between your previous position and the bed with a firm smack to your ass, throwing you down onto the bed. He licked his lips at the sight of you like that, practically collapsing down on top of you to press a searing kiss on a freckle that resided just above your belly button, yanking down your jeans in the progress as he then went on a mission to mark up the majority of your torso with his teeth.
Once he was done, he took a moment to admire the sexy constellation before stealing a kiss from you. Dean’s eyes landed on your garters and the skimpy little nylons you were sporting under the jeans, as well as the now ruined black lace panties that matched the corset bra he’d unclipped earlier. A grown bubbled up in his throat, followed by a gravelly chuckle.
“You really know how to get the attention of a guy like me, huh, sweet thing?” He murmured, sweeping a hand over his mouth and biting his lip, taking a moment to really appreciate the visual.
“I take more pride in what comes after.” You gave him a sexy smirk that had his cock throbbing. “It’s one thing to get attention, but I take more pride in keeping it.”
That got him nodding. “You sure can keep it, baby.” He worked off the garters and nylons, chucking them aside and hooking a finger into the hem of your panties. “Attached?”
“Do I look like I’m sewn to them?” A wink from you. Damn, he was hooked. Line and sinker.
“Touché.” He flicked his wrist, which tore the panties until they were beyond repair, dropping them somewhere else. His eyes locked on your soaked pussy, and fuck-shit-crap was it the most pretty thing he’d ever seen.
Within seconds, Dean had your legs over his shoulders, slapping your thighs and kneading them, using the grip on them to spread you open and run his tongue up your dripping cunt. The moment he got his taste, of the sweet, sweet ambrosia, something switched and he really began to work.
He felt your fingers thread in his hair again, your palm pressing him closer to you, and was he complaining? No. He could make a damn home right here. Right here, at your pretty fuckin’ pussy.
He’d fuck that pussy raw.
“F-Fuck, Dean!” You gasped, your thighs closing around his head, but he didn’t mind, lapping at you before licking up to your clit so he could suck at it. His fingers joined the party, slipping one in, then add one with no resistance whatsoever, with had him groaning against you and sending vibrations through your body that felt rather like electricity. Blinding electricity.
“That’s right, pretty thing.” He growled against your cunt, crooking his fingers before sucking on your clit again. “Show me how goddamn needy you are.”
You found yourself barrelling to the edge quicker than any other man had ever possible managed, and damn, did it feel good. Too good.
“Gonna-” You had to cut yourself off to gasp and let your eyes roll back when Dean curled his fingers and hit your g-spot, “gonna come-”
“Come for me, baby.” Dean encouraged, slapping your thigh firmly, kneading the flesh. To get you there, he traced his name out on your clit before sucking, which had you coming on his fingers and tongue, maximum voltage sparking your veins and hanging stars in front of your rolled eyes.
You felt Dean’s tongue lapping up everything you had to offer, all your come and he didn’t waste a drop. He sucked your arousal off his two fingers, licking his glistening lips and collecting the copious residue off his chin with his thumb, sucking that into his mouth with a look that could only be described as pure porn.
The sight of him - mussed up hair, naked, lips smeared with red, the same to his neck, chest and cock - was pure porn.
“More.” Was the only thing he said (growled, more like), and he flipped you over, practically manhandling you until you were kneeling on the bed. Straddling his face.
His hands took your hips and yanked you down, and he instantly licked a long stripe up your pussy, your hand flying to grip the headboard as you ground down onto his face, obscene sounds leaving your mouth but you didn’t care, really. All you cared about was the god of a man making you fall apart in record goddamn time with just his mouth.
Dean grabbed handfuls of your ass, slapping the softness and groaning into your cunt. This was honestly where his element was. Not hunting, not demonhood, no. He belonged with his tongue on your pussy.
His hands reached up to grope your tits, kitten-licking at your clit while his fingers tweaked your nipples, adding a dual level of stimulation that made you rock your hips faster.
Dean’s left hand reached down, swiping two fingers through your soaked pussy and lifted those to your mouth, and he chuckled. “Suck, sweet thing.” You took those fingers into your mouth, tasting yourself and feeling those two fingers that had previously worked magic on you in your mouth. The calloused pads pressing on your tongue. “That’s it. Such a slut for my mouth, huh?”
“Could call you a pussyslut then, hm, Dean?” You panted amid moans, running a hand through your sweaty hair. “Can’t get enough of it, can you?”
“Well played.” He growled, working faster, determined to get you over the edge. A few more licks, a couple more strokes and Dean did just that, his name rolling deliciously off your tongue as you came on his tongue for the second time. He drank all that up too, like a parched man in the Sahara.
Dean was normal used to sensitive, pliable women at this stage, but no, you shifted back and shoved him down when he was about to get up, making him fall back with a soft grunt, his head pressing into the pillows.
His hands gripped your hip and thigh by instinct, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin when you lifted yourself, sinking down onto his cock and taking all of him in one.
All of you was an expert at this.
“Fuck.” Both of you moaned in unison, his hands tightening on your hips while your nails raked down his chest, leaving red trails that instantly cleared up.
You couldn’t help but whimper, your hand gripping the your hair as you adjusted to how goddamn big he was. Out of all cocks you’d taken in your life, Dean fuckin’ Winchester took the cake. “So good.” You muttered absentmindedly, already feeling your pussy clenching and him buried all the way inside you, reaching places you didn’t know you had.
“Shit, sweet thing, you’re so tight.” Dean groaned out, and his hand left your hip to grab the bottle of whiskey, popping off the stopper with his thumb and chuckling. When he saw you not moving, he slapped your tit, hard, but somehow extremely sexy. “Move. Now.”
Now, had that been anyone else, you’d have tied their wrists to the headboard and edged them until they cried. But with Dean Winchester, well, you could risk relinquishing control for a second, or five.
You began moving- up and down, up and down at a dizzying pace, one that had your thoughts clouding as the side of his cock brushed against your g-spot. “Oh, fuck, baby.” You moaned, your mouth falling open. What was it with this man?
Dean took a sip of whiskey from the bottle, swallowing it and grunting roughly. “That’s it, pretty thing. Ride my cock. Bounce on it, attagirl. That’s a good girl.” You let out a whine in response, and an even louder one tumbling from your parted lips when you felt the cold sting of strong whiskey drip down from your chin, to your neck, over your tits and further down, poured by Dean from the bottle of whiskey that was then returned to its place on the bedside table.
He leaned forward, lapping up the whiskey from where he could reach, guiding your movements while his tongue flattened against your skin and licked stripes over your neck, your nipples, the swell of your tits and the valley between them.
“Y’look so good on me.” Dean growled, using his now purchase on your hips to bring you harder down onto his cock, watching it disappear into your pussy with gritted teeth. One hand left your hip, thumb finding your clit and once again tracing his name before moving into fast yet calculated, perfect circles, his lips adding to it by sucking more and more marks onto the skin of your neck and chest. Making sure you couldn’t cover them, not easily, at least.
“Y’look so good under me.” You shot back after a series of moans and whimpers and loud expletives, and he laughed deep and rough, hand finding the back of your head and bringing your lips against his, parting them, letting his teeth graze and tug at your bottom lip. His hand smoothed over the curve of your ass, gripping it for the nth time that night. Then, before he knew it, your pussy had clamped down on him like a vice, and you were over the edge, coming with a rolling of your eyes back into your head.
Dean gripped your chin, bringing you to look at him with hazy eyes as his name was ripped from your lungs, crying out and rendering you breathless as he then worked you down from the high, chasing his own by thrusting up into you.
Works two ways. You get to come down and he gets to come. Fair deal.
And the deal was fulfilled on both ends, cause while you had come down from your high with a delicious ache and/or satisfaction in your pussy, courtesy of Dean, he’d also got to come, spilling into you.
Thank God you took Plan B, even though it’s not 100 percent effective.
You lifted yourself off of him, rolling onto your back beside him as you both caught your breath. You’d sort of had an out of body experience, being treated to three intensely mind-blowing orgasms. And you’d always been the one to dominate. Not today, since a demon unexpectedly called Dean Winchester had proven you wrong with his gravelly voice and rough nature.
Damn, if you were a hunter, you’d be missing out on this religious experience.
“I’m assuming you’re the type to do a lady then go.” You breathed, running a hand through your sweaty hair while both of you adjusted the blankets on you at the exact same time.
“I don’t think that applies this time, princess.” Dean smirked, looking you over with an impressed undertone and an obvious blazing heat in his gaze. “Nah, definitely not this time. I’m keepin’ you, for a very long time.” He chuckled, biting his lip. “If you’ll allow me to keep you, darlin’.”
“Keep me, maybe not.” You winked, but then grinned. “But I’m definitely stayin’. Can’t just do you once and then leave it right there, can I?”
“Damn straight.” He chuckled, then rolled onto his side, cupping your cheek and thumbing your bottom lip. “Cause I’m still wonderin’ what else you can do with that pretty mouth of yours.”
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©️ 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐤 / 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲’𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨
𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐞𝐝/𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝
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#dean winchester#supernatural#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#spn#dean winchester x you#dean smut#demon!dean x reader#demon!dean smut#demon!dean#demon!dean x reader smut#dean x you#dean winchester smut#jensen ackles x you#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles fanfiction#jensen#jensen x you#jensen Ackles x you#artyandink#arty’s studio#arty writes#lipstick baby
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Part of my sing little birdie aka birb dad + birb baby series, but I'm yapping bullet points real quick (idk I may rewrite this into a proper story one day. I'm trying to stay focused and in a specific mindset rn for my dragon!Sylus AU 😔👍). Something about the last part of Sylus' event triggered this thought, so let's get into it.
Taking Little Birdie to the Amusement Park
It's Sylus' daughter's first time at the amusement park. She is three and excited, but not because of the rides and attractions
It's one of the rare occasions where she has both mom and dad together spending time with her
Sylus lavishes his daughter with attention and indulges in her whims
If baby girl wants Daddy to wear silly headbands and glasses, then he will in a heartbeat
He buys her whatever she wants at giftshops even if she doesn't ask
Man is basically doing the "buying my child whatever she touches" trend (MC is exasperated once she finds out, but lets it go since this is a special day for their family)
He is the one riding the rides with her as MC photographs everything
He lifts her onto her chosen horse on the carousel and stays by her side
"So, my little birdie, this is the trusty steed you have chosen? A fine horse indeed."
Baby girl is having the time of her life on kiddie rides
The best part about having a tall dad is riding his shoulders. Little Miss has the best view at the park. 🥹🫶
Sylus isn't concerned about losing her.
Onychinus henchmen are lurking around the park posing as guests, staff members, or mascots 😭👍
Personal babysitters bodyguards Luke and Kieran are always nearby to keep their eyes on their precious Little Miss
Dressed as Smiley Dino and Sunny Dino, they are suffocating in their suits (rip 😔), but Little Miss' laughter and excitement makes it all worth it
"Daddy, Daddy, Smiley Dino and Sunny Dino hugged me!"
(Later Luke & Kieran @ MC: say Miss Hunter...would it be possible if we get copies of that photo? 👉👈)
Mephisto is also always perched near the toddler to keep an eye on her and will report to Sylus about any concerns
You do not want to mess with this bird. He has beef with pigeons on a daily basis. 💀 He won't hesitate to take you on either not to mention Sylus is always giving him weird upgrades
Basically don't mess with this child. She has the protection of Onychinus and you do not want to meet her dad. Or worse. Her mom.
Around mid-afternoon, nap time is near. It's been hours at the park, lots of overindulgence, lots of walking. The sun is blazing hot, and baby girl is dozing off on Sylus' shoulder trying to stay awake.
He and MC find a nice shady area to rest for a bit and just have a nice quiet family/couple moment as their daughter naps in Sylus' arms
In the evening they have a meal at one of the restaurants as a family. Baby girl is rambling excitedly about her favorite parts of the day (spoiler alert: it's everything)
"Mommy...Daddy...can we do today again? 🥺"
Sylus & MC:
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When there is a fireworks show, baby girl is sitting on Sylus' shoulders pointing at the sky in awe
Sylus leans down to MC, asking with a smirk, "Remember the last time we watched fireworks at that restaurant together?"
"Mommy, Daddy, look, look!"
Little birdie doesn't even realize she is tugging on her dad's hair. Sylus laughs it off. Her joy is his joy.
Sylus isn't really paying attention to the fireworks. He gazes at his wife's awestruck expression and smiles as his daughter laughs. He wonders if he had traded away all of his bad luck because right now, in this moment, he felt pretty damn lucky.
He hopes this is a core memory for his daughter, but even if she grows up and forgets this day, Sylus won't. This memory will stay with him for the rest of his life, her laughter and smiles were his to keep, his to cherish.
(As for the rest of Onychinus, this is their core memories, seeing their precious Little Miss having the family day she deserves 😭🫶)
#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#love and deepspace x reader#lnds scenarios#sylus x reader#lnds series — sing little birdie#i thought i calmed down#what happened#anyway#let's just shove this onto my ever-growing wip pile#😔👍
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{ 191 }
your heart belongs to me.
jinwoo sung x fem.reader
warnings: an unedited, self indulgent, 18+ thirst post based on some readers’ asks; MINORS DON’T INTERACT!
by choosing to interact with this 18+ content, you have consented to viewing something n-fw despite the warnings.
anonymous said: I wanna be kissed my jinwoo until i find it difficult to breathe 🤤 thank you for the recent food
anonymous said: .... Yandere Jinwoo who pulls you into a mating press, not stopping until you're shaking, cumming, and squirting from the sheer amount of effort and strength jinwoo's emitting. Bro goes on and on like a desperate man until you can't speak and you can't process anything coherently anymore..... Rarararararrararararaa.... I despise him he's so hot I'm literally gigging in the corner whenever i see his cute ass face🫣
{ … }
your beloved boyfriend was just relaxing in bed, reading a novel as his grey eyes were honed in on the pages.
yet something about him made him appear extra delectable today. you stand by the doorway, eyes eagerly drinking in the sight of sung jinwoo. he looked extremely cozy tonight, dressed in a loose t-shirt that was raised ever so slightly as you caught sight of those delicious abs. his sweatpants hung loosely against his hips, and you could see the prominent v shape coupled along with a happy trail that matched his ebony locks of hair.
there was a discomfort felt between your legs, and you could feel your panties turning damp from how aroused you became. knowing that tonight would be the time where you were needy for your incredibly sexy hunter lover, you made your first move, literally pouncing on him.
jinwoo feels your added weight on the bed and sets aside his book. he gives you a sweet smile, but upon seeing your dilated eyes and the way you practically crawled towards him in the bed, his gaze loses all traces of sweetness.
“what’s this?” his voice becomes a deep rumble, letting out your name as he sits back in bed, feeling you straddling his waist before leaning forward. you kept silent, pressing your lips against jinwoo’s in a chaste kiss before purposely biting down on his bottom lip. a gasp was heard coming from your boyfriend when you suddenly licked and sucked at his bottom lip.
and that was all the urging your boyfriend needed to lose all of his inhibitions.
your giggle fills at the air when jinwoo immediately grips at your waist before tossing you against the bed. you give him a cheshire cat grin, hands already clutching at the wrinkled comforter as jinwoo was now hovering over the entirety of your body, his large hand gripping at the front of your oversized shirt before (quite literally) ripping it off of your frame.
you gasp upon feeling the cool, a.c. air against your skin, causing goosebumps to erupt all across it as jinwoo’s eyes glowed purple at the sight of your nearly naked form, your heaving breasts revealed to him as you were only left in your panties.
“no bra? naughty girl…” jinwoo’s chuckle turns darker as he places his large hands over your breasts, admiring how perfect they fit against his hand. when he gives one of them a squeeze while playing with your hardened nipples, you end up tossing your head back in response.
“j-jinwoo… fuck.”
he hums before leaning down to give its twin some attention, this time using his mouth. he latches on to your hardened nub and curls his tongue around it, suckling at them as you felt your panties become even more ruined in response.
a string of curses escapes from your parted lips, causing you to delve your fingers into his hair. jinwoo spends a considerable amount of time littering your breasts with love bites and heated kisses, making sure that they both received equal attention before moving on to taste a different part of you.
jinwoo slides down your body, purposely running his tented sweatpants down your bare leg as you shivered in response to such hedonistic friction. he chuckles at your flustered expression, not stopping until he pulls your legs toward the edge of the bed. with jinwoo situated on the ground, he grips at the waistband of your panties with his teeth, pulling them off completely with an expertise built from spending 3 plus years fucking and making love to you.
he breathes in the scent of your cunt, admiring the scent of your arousal before tracing his lips all across your pussy lips. the sensation of his tongue felt tracing at your core makes you react immediately, legs spreading as you gripped at his dark hair, feeling the way jinwoo devours you like a man starved.
his groans and grunts were felt against your aching sex, causing pleasurable vibrations to course through you as you cried out to him. only when he begins thrusting his thick fingers in and out of you all while continuing to devour you with his hot mouth did you feel your release quickly approaching.
yet before your walls could clench around his tongue and fingers-
before you could spill your juices within his awaiting mouth-
jinwoo pulls away from you.
you sob at the loss of him, your release already beginning to recede as you kept begging for him to make you cum.
“please j-jin, p-please! i need to cum so badly, i was so close, sososososo close- mmph!”
jinwoo interrupts your begging and whines with a kiss against your lips, forcing you to taste yourself as his tongue swirls around the hot cavern of your mouth. you moan at how erotic this all was as you could taste your honeyed sweetness that still lingered against jinwoo’s lips.
“what a needy girl you are…” your mind was dimly aware of how jinwoo was naked now, pressing his cock against your entrance momentarily before gripping at your two legs as he places them both against his shoulders. and it was in this position that jinwoo thrusts his thick and pulsating cock inside of you, his balls hitting at your ass as he keeps you in a mating press.
“sorry, but the only thing i’ll allow you to cum on is on this cock.”
feeling how deep he was makes your eyes nearly roll in the back of your head, the squelching sounds made from the way jinwoo fucks you into the bed making you moan at such a sinful sensation. the way his cock was felt pressed against your swollen bundle of nerves each time he thrusts back into you was what makes you lose it within seconds, feeling such a powerful climax overtaking your body as you released yourself against him, the fluids seeming to rush out of you in waves. your intense release ends up leaving jinwoo gasping as he stills his hips inside of you, still remaining erect as his dilated eyes take in the sight of the spot where you two remained connected.
the warm yet clear fluid continues to run down the entire length of his cock, and it was fascinating to jinwoo as he felt the same fluids drip down the length of his dick and into the comforters settled on the bed. an all encompassing smirk was seen settled across jinwoo’s features when he realized what you had done. “sarang, did you just squirt for the first time?”
you weren’t even aware of his words, so caught up in the sheer intensity of your release that your expression appeared almost drunk. as if understanding your less than coherent state, the shadow monarch lets out a rich chuckle before gripping at your ankles once more, proceeding to pound his cock in and out of your swollen cunt at an even faster pace, clearly eager to make you squirt again.
“such a good girl for me. how about i make you squirt the whole night? would that make my princess happy?”
you only managed to nod in response to his question, repeating his name in a never-ending mantra, allowing jinwoo to dominate your body as he kept you in a mating press for hours on end, practically ruining your bed by the time he was done with you ♡
a.n. - phew this was just pure and utter self indulgence on my end. need jinwoo to do me like this for real 🥵🔥
all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.
#solo leveling smut#solo leveling x reader#sung jinwoo x reader#jinwoo sung x reader#sung jinwoo x you#jinwoo sung x you#.stories
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࿐ part one of masked stalker week! touya is first, megumi’s can be found here! ⇢ ⇢ ⇢ ⋆ FEM READER ⋆
࿐ master list link ࿐ kinktober master list link
⋆ ⬪ KINKS INCLUDED ࿐ hints of hunter/prey, stalking, mask kink, breath play, knife play, a mixture of degradation and praise, yandere vibes.
⋆ ⬪ This isn’t quite as long as the others, as I wanted to keep it sweet and to the point without too much world building this time.
⇢ ⇢ touya art by birf ! ⇢ ⇢ @sikuthealien
⇢ ⇢ @with-my-calamitous-love (tagging cuz I thought you might enjoy this)
┊ ༝ ᭝ ༝ short summary ༝ ᭝ ༝ ┊ ‣ ‣ ‣ ‣ Touya’s a regular at the coffee shop you work in. It’s in a seedier part of town, and nobody bats an eye at the villain who stops in every night before close. He never speaks to you after he orders, just shoots you a wink as he leaves. But he’s the least of your worries. There’s someone wearing a ghost face mask who’s been stalking you after every shift. It’s been going a lot longer than you care to admit. Maybe it’s because, in a twisted way, you like it?
⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣
“Busy, doll?”
Your hand jerks violently, the tip of your pen ripping a giant hole in the napkin you were currently doodling ghost face on. You purse your lips, and after swallowing your heart back down into your chest, you lift your head to send a weak glare at the familiar smoky voice piping up from across the counter.
Touya glances at your drawing and the corners of his lips twitch with the ghost of a smug smile.
“I was. Thanks a lot for ruining my picture,” you complain, balling up the tattered napkin and dropping it in the small trash can beside you. You mourn the loss of your masterpiece and rise to your feet with a sigh. “Getting the usual?”
“As always, doll. What, that pretty little empty head of yours forget my order already?” Touya teases, crossing his arms over his chest and looming over the edge of the counter. The scent of burnt firewood smacks you in the face and tickles your nose. You pull backwards instinctively, even if the smell does entice you.
“No,” you protest, nose scrunching as you resist the urge to sneeze, glancing up into bright blue eyes. Touya arches an eyebrow and you spin in the opposite direction before he can notice the soft heat of embarrassment burrowing into the apples of your cheeks.
It’s not your fault the backhanded compliment fills your belly with butterflies. He’s stupid hot, scars and all, sue you for having eyes.
Touya hums as if your petulant no amuses him greatly.
It’s like clockwork. Nearly every evening one of Japan’s most wanted villains shows up half an hour before close and orders a plain black coffee. He never speaks again after you start making it, no matter how hard you try to coax him into conversation. He just responds in noncommittal hums, studying you so intensely that you fidget in place.
Then he pays, shoots you a wink, and leaves through the front door with his hoodie pulled up tight to cover his snowy white hair.
It’s not as if anyone bats an eye that he frequents the place, you have a suspicion that the owner does business with the LOV anyhow. The security cameras are just for show, and you sure as hell won’t rat on him. Screw society, or whatever the LOV stands for.
You secure a lid on the nearly overflowing cheap styrofoam cup. Neatly, you write his name on the side before handing it over, fingers brushing over cool metal as you do, and he grins so widely the staples on his cheeks stretch obscenely. You bite the inside of your bottom lip, fingertips tingling with a pleasant burn even after he’s gone.
Your lungs expand with a steadying breath to reset your nervous system, closing your eyes briefly to focus. When you crack them open and glance at the digital clock on the wall, there’s only twenty minutes left until you can escape the dingy cafe.
That only serves to fill you with dread of an entirely different beast. One that has guilt weighing you down because, if you’re honest, you’re…. excited for what awaits you at the end of your shift.
You see, Touya is the least of your current worries. Yeah, you have a huge crush on him, but he’s never made a move and you’re sure he’s got more pressing matters to deal with.
Shigaraki seems like he’s more than a handful to work for after all.
No, for the past two or three months, as soon as you lock the door and start your treacherous stroll home through the seedy part of town, a man in a ghost face mask follows you the entire way. He never does anything, just simply tails you without a care in the world.
You still have no clue who it is, and at first you were terrified, the jarring sensation of eyes constantly on you making the hair on your arms stick straight up. You were being stalked and hunted like a small rabbit in the woods, and a cold sweat often trickled down your neck. You’d grip the straps of your backpack with trembling fingers and white knuckles.
Then, love letters began appearing in your mailbox at the end of every week. Pages upon pages of your stalker waxing poetic about you, decorated with scratched out sentences and rants demanding that you belong to him, and that he’d tear any man who flirted with you into pieces. They’re always signed with “my heart beats for you”, no name listed, and some hastily drawn hearts.
You’ve started to wonder if you’re sick in the head, because as more letters appeared, the fear faded into infatuation. You started to become just as obsessed with him as he is with you. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that he could tell when your feelings changed, if the increase in letters was anything to go by.
That being said, his secret identity consumes almost every waking thought you have. You’ve been on edge for weeks, and it’s driven you to come up with a plan to push things forward.
You’ve decided to write him his own letter, and soon you’re going to leave it in your mailbox for him to find. You yearn to know who he is, to see what he looks like.
And you really want him to fuck you in the mask.
⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣
The bell above the door jingles as you slam the front door shut. You curse lowly, fiddling with the key that never seems to actually lock the door. You race the biting cold to secure it before your fingers go numb. After the fifth time you hear the signature click as it slides the deadbolt into place and you sigh in relief.
You swing your backpack to the front, digging in the front pocket and pulling out your prepared letter in a white envelope labeled “to my stalker”. With determination, you start walking in the direction of your home, shifting your gaze to peer down the first alleyway past the coffee shop. Your heart rate thunders when you spot a familiar ghost mask barely peaking out above the dumpster.
You make haste, calves burning the faster you push your stride. You breath resembles a dragon’s and the crunch of heavy boots on the concrete sidewalk behind you has your fingertips tingling. Your stalker trails after you at a steady pace, an eerie tune being whistled as he follows. His footsteps never quicken, as if he’s confident he’ll catch up no matter what.
Before you realize it, you’re reaching the end of your driveway, coming to a halt in front of your mailbox. You turn ever so slowly, witnessing the masked man pause in the middle of the street. He tilts his head in curiosity as you raise up the letter so he knows what you’re holding.
Tentatively, you gesture towards the letter, and then you shove a shaky finger his way. He points at himself and you nod once. Then, you make sure he’s watching as you place it in the mailbox and shut the door as fast as you can.
You whirl without second guessing yourself, the scenario reminding you of running up the stairs so a monster doesn’t capture you as you practically sprint into your home and lock the door.
You don’t dare look out the window to check if he’s taken it. You slump against your door, adrenaline still rushing in your veins as you slide to the tiled floor with a squeak. The warm air thaws your limbs as you spiral.
When you inspect the mailbox on your way to work the next day, the letter has vanished.
⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣
It’s late Friday evening, thirty minutes before close, and anticipation is currently wreaking havoc on your mind. You jump each time the door opens. It’s enough to distract you from the fact that Touya hasn’t made his usual appearance tonight.
Granted, it’s not that unusual, he’s not there every single day, so the realization only flits across your thoughts before disappearing.
The divorced dad rock playing softly in the background pauses, a result of the shitty internet connection, and you roll your eyes as you continue to rhythmically wipe off the counter top in relative silence.
The sharp chime of the door startles you, gaze shooting towards whoever has entered, but the spark of hope in your chest deflates when you recognize a different regular sauntering through.
You greet him with a fake smile, going along with the boring small talk as you prepare his drink. He’s kind enough, and he tips decently, so you treat him well. You send him on his way with a genuine smile and return to your closing tasks.
You’re flipping the last chair over, about to settle it on the table top when the door opens once more. Annoyance flares in your chest, and you twist your head to call over your shoulder that you’re closed when your voice gets stuck in your throat.
The wooden legs slip from your fingers like sand, and the chair clatters loudly to the table as you spin towards the door in shock.
There in the doorway, looking terrifying, is your fucking stalker. He’s dressed in all black, ghost face mask secured and black hoodie pulled up, but it’s definitely him.
You weren’t sure he’d show up, mouth opening and closing in shock as you stare aimlessly at him.
“You…you got my letter,” you manage to choke out, heart hammering against your rib cage. He nods once in acknowledgment, casually reaching behind himself to flip the lock on the door. The cold sensation of fear pours into your belly, and you swallow the cotton balls that have taken refuge in your throat as he takes a step closer.
Your feet are cemented to the floor, limbs paralyzed while he stalks towards you, pulling his hood off as he goes. You can’t see his hair and you notice that he’s wearing black leather gloves as well, so that doesn’t give you any sort of clue as to who he is.
You shiver slightly, time seeming to slow when he comes to a stop directly in front of you. Your head tilts in order to properly look up at him.
“You wanted me, right doll?” The deep voice drawls, unearthing something metallic from his waistband that you immediately notice is a knife. Your terror skyrockets, the high of the thrill mixing with it in a strange and intoxicating way. You retreat as far as you can, but it’s only a few inches as your lower back bumps harshly into the edge of the table behind you, jostling the chairs.
“No! I mean, yes, I did, but I just wanted to talk! I’m…interested in you,” You attempt to explain, hands flailing animatedly and voice shaky as you ramble.
The masked man chuckles in amusement, raising the knife and gradually beginning to dig the tip into the underside of your jaw, tilting your head even further back. It pinches, not quite breaking the skin, but the threat looms.
God, you hope this wasn’t a mistake, and that you aren’t so pathetic that you’ve actually let a stalker in here to kill you.
“To talk about what, sweetheart? Your letter said you were interested, but I saw you with your little boyfriend in here earlier, whore,” he spits the last word, knife pushing in a bit further. “Were you lying to me?”
You cry out desperately, the tendons in your neck straining painfully as your eyes grow wide and your brows shoot up to your hairline in confusion.
“No! What? I - I don’t have a boyfriend, I swear!” You plead, voice watery and thick. Your hands fly up to fist the front of his hoodie, rising onto your tip toes so you don’t impale yourself. Your heart rate is erratic, enough so that you’re becoming dizzy.
Panic wells up in your throat, eyes stinging with tears as he stays silent for what seems an eternity. Then, he clicks his tongue behind his teeth, dragging the tip of the knife down the hollow of your throat, and purposely nicks your collarbone before he finally pulls away.
You gasp loudly, breath coming out as a bitten off sob as your hands shoot to your neck to check for any glaring injuries. A few tears flow down your cheeks in relief as you pant harshly, fingertips only slightly red when you pull them back.
“What the fuck!” You screech, glaring intensely at him and flushing hotly to the tips of your ears. “I just wanted to talk to you!”
He shrugs, spinning the knife. “We’re talking, aren’t we doll?”
Your expression pinches as you try to hold in the next sob, sniffling pitifully. All of a sudden his personality switches, emotional whiplash evident as he crowds you in against the table. Your fear spikes once again, hands coming up to his chest in a weak attempt to save yourself.
He slips the knife back into his waistband and harshly cradles your jaw, wiping away the few stray tears with his glove covered thumbs.
“Aw c’mon doll, you’re such a pretty thing, please don’t cry. I just got so furious seeing that other guy in here flirting with what’s mine. You understand, right?” He soothes, mania seeping into his tone. He presses his warm lean body flush with yours and you squeeze your eyes shut. You end up nodding, head fuzzy with the whirlwind of fear and arousal fraying your nerves. “Fucking look at me when I’m speaking to you,” he demands coldly.
You refocus your gaze upon the pitch black eyes of the ghost face mask, lids drooping slightly.
“I told you I wanted you,” you protest. “Not some random regular.”
He’s surely driving you insane, and you’re certain it says nothing good about you that you still want him so badly.
“I know doll,” he coos, hands smoothing down your chest. He grabs your tits and then moves lower to squeeze your hips bruisingly. “And you’re gonna fucking show me.”
The man reaches behind you and shoves the chairs over the sides of the tables, the insanely loud crack of the wood slamming into the floor causes you to smack right into his chest. He hushes you, coaxing you to back up, and then he hefts you up onto the edge of the table by your waist.
“Raise your arms,” he instructs.
You listen, inner elbows touching your ears as he grabs the hem of your shirt and yanks it off. He drops it carelessly to the floor and then gets your bra off just as easily. He lures a soft moan from you when warm leather hands play with your tits, pinching your nipples until they harden. He whispers something you don’t quite catch and then he’s reaching for your waistband.
“Wait!” Your fingers curl around his wrists to halt his movements before he can unbutton your pants. “I don’t even know your name! At least tell me that before you fuck me.”
You’re certain he’s smirking behind that mask.
“Oh? And what will you do if I don’t tell you, hmm? You’re a filthy whore for me, aren’t you doll?”
You blink in shock, the harsh words lighting fire to your blood. You nod jerkily, your hold on his wrists going slack.
“So, are you going to say no?” He taunts, fingers toying with the button on your jeans. When you shake your head he coos at you. “Such a good girl, you listen so well.”
He hooks his fingers into your pants and panties, yanking with enough force that he pulls them out from under you. You gasp, catching your weight with your hands as he slips off one of your sneakers, leaving the remaining material to dangle uselessly around one ankle.
Your pussy seeks for anything to cling to, but tightens desperately around nothing as he pushes your thighs apart to see you better. You look up at him sheepishly when he places his thumbs on the sides of your soft lips and spreads you, moaning appreciatively at what he finds.
One thumb shifts to your clit and he rubs a few slow circles into it, the texture of the leather sending waves of warmth out to your limbs. Your nails scrape the wooden surface as he grips your knees and lifts them until you’re forced to place your heels on the edge of the table to balance.
Your leftover sneaker squeaks when you shift your foot, the vulnerability of being on display for this man making your stomach knot up.
“I want to see you. Please, show me,” you beg, gaze flickering down to see the way his stiff cock strains against his zipper, eager to be freed.
“Yeah? Does my pretty little toy wanna see my face?” He runs a teasing finger along the edge of his mask. “I think,” he muses, pausing a measly few inches from your face. “You just want to see my cock.”
He straightens as soon as the words leave his lips, unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off his shoulders. He wears a long black sleeve shirt, and he reaches below it to undo his own dark jeans. Soon enough his hard cock is bouncing free and curving up slightly towards his belly.
Your lips part, a storm of pure need rushing through you. A patch of curly white hair at the base of his cock draws your attention, and the small piece of knowledge excites you.
“You have white hair?” You ask in awe, shifting your gaze from the hand loosely stroking his cock to his face, staring so hard you might actually be able to see through the mask. He tilts his head curiously and steps up to the edge of the table.
“So there is a brain rattling around in there,” he teases, tilting his hips up to slide the tip of his leaking cock over your clit. He shifts down to nudge against where you’re entirely exposed. “Sure do, sweetheart. Recognize me yet?”
Your brows scrunch, distracted by the white hot jolt of pleasure, and then your stalker is gripping your throat and cutting off your air as he pushes his cock inside you all the way to the hilt. Your mouth drops open in a silent scream, the stretch burning and so unbelievably perfect that your entire body tingles.
He pulls his hips back until the tip is all your pussy clings to before bullying his cock back inside, the sharp smack of his skin meeting yours pushing a wheeze out of you.
“Feels good, doesn’t it doll?” His voice is scratchy, a breathy moan escaping as you squeeze him. Your head grows heavy as you nod to the best of your ability, spine begging to arch into his thrusts.
He sets a ruthless pace after that, not allowing you a second longer to adjust. His free hand clutches your bent knee and uses it as leverage to throw his weight into his hips.
After what seems like an hour, you start to tap urgently at his wrist, vision swimming as he continues to fuck the very life out of you. He eases his grip and you suck in a lungful of air that has blood rushing in your ears.
Just as the lightheaded sensation starts to fade he applies firm pressure to your throat until your shoulders slam into the table top. He stills his hips as he follows you down, and your legs instinctively lock around his lithe waist. He places his elbows on either side of your head, panting harshly through the cloth mouth of the mask.
When you land the air gets knocked out of your lungs, you gasp out of reflex and the scent of burnt firewoods floods your nose. Something clicks into place in your mind, and with startling clarity, it dawns on you that your masked stalker is Touya.
Touya moves his hips leisurely, curling them so his blunt tip presses firmly against your g-spot. Your hands fly up to fumble with his mask, and Touya doesn’t move to stop you when you push it up and off his head, the plastic clattering to the floor somewhere beside the table.
Familiar searing blue eyes and scarred skin greet you, spiky white hair sealing the deal.
“Touya,” you breathe, and he grins slyly, each of his slow, deliberate thrusts jostling you up the table. His lids are heavy as he peers down at you, and your arms wind around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair.
“Surprised?” He purrs, and you shake your head.
“No, fuck! I’m happy that it’s you,” you manage to get out between choked off moans. The look in his eyes turns wild, a borderline hysterical laugh leaving his lips.
“I own you, isn’t that right doll?” He balances his weight on one elbow and reaches to grab the knife from his waistband. He stabs the wood inches from your head and you yelp, heart skipping a beat as you shy away from the blade. He lets go but allows the knife to remain in place, resuming his previous position.
“Yes!” You reassure him, pussy fluttering involuntarily and Touya grins in self satisfaction, caging in closer until his lips brush over yours when he murmurs.
“Let’s make that pretty little pussy cum on my cock then, yeah? Show me you understand.”
With that, Touya resumes his relentless pace. He keeps you on the edge of a kiss, whispering soft praise until you’re surging up to kiss him as stars burst behind your eyelids.
He groans into the kiss, hips faltering as your pussy suffocates him. Touya drags out your climax for as long as he can hold out before he breaks the kiss and shoves his face into your throat, thrusting shallowly as he cock jerks. He sinks his teeth into your pulse point, sucking and marking you with what’s sure to be a dark purple hickey.
You hug him close, thighs twitching with aftershocks and Touya slips his arms underneath your waist. He gives you no reprieve as he readjusts his grip and hauls you up off the table, forcing you to suck in a sharp breath and wail as he twists and drops into a booth nearby. The intense pressure on your soft cervix makes your stomach ache.
Touya frees you of your sneaker and the remainder of the pants still dangling around your ankle. He roughly smacks your ass and gazes up at you with a catlike grin.
“Ride me like you fucking mean it, doll. I gotta see those tits bounce.”
You come together over and over that night until you’re both exhausted. Before Touya takes his leave, he draws his number on the side of a styrofoam cup and places it on the counter. He’s deadly serious when he tells you that you “better not fucking ignore him,” or he’ll show up here every. single. night.
And truthfully, you want to play with fire and see what happens if you do.
#dabi x reader#todoroki touya x reader#dabi smut#todoroki smut#touya todoroki smut#todoroki touya#dabi#todoroki touya smut#mha dabi#mha todoroki#mha smut#dabi x you#touya todoroki x reader
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⌕ FLIMSY FEELINGS, 18+
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/91e5d7526df6e9c825e837adf6036fd9/53543c3ac655e6a6-95/s540x810/78832fb48c8177ae6de6b656f8c191908ae06493.jpg)
⟢ CHARACTER : blade x afab! reader WC : 1.4k
⟢ WARNINGS : EXPLICIT, MDNI. dubcon, somno, voyeur! blade, oral (fem receiving), sadistic masochistic themes, mutual masturb#tion, cunnilingus
⟢ A/N : we don't have much info abt his character rn but i tried my best with the available provided info as of the moment !! enjoy <3
raven hair ripples from the bitter cold winds blowing, the glint of crisp solferino hues show a reflection of an unknown person - someone the stellaron hunters just happened to pick up as they tread upon weaving the threads of fate, just how the screen play director foretold.
it was just blade and you alone, encompassed by the archaic, gunmetal gray walls. blade watches your slumbering figure as he wears a solemn face, lips pressed into a thin line, not showing any kind of expression at all except for a stoic mask.
is it really a mask? no one could tell. blade just proceeds to stride towards your body, feeling an aching sensation he needed to tend to. it's a feeling he'd come to despise - but it's still a part of his bodily function. even though he abandoned his old way of living and is now in a pursuit of his path to vengeance, there are trivial things he must fulfill at once.
blade slowly descends to your position, vision still not anchoring away from your dozing shape. humans truly are fragile, he thought to himself— to see someone in their vulnerable state, it feels quite intimate. it was an epiphany blade had for a long time ago he forgot when, but all he knows right now is there's just one thing that must be done.
he feels his pants grow tighter by the minute, the flickering light bulb casts a darker shade of monochrome gray on the crotch part. the navy haired doesn't delay any further and proceeds to get it done. blade unbuckles his belt swiftly, letting the item crash against the concrete flooring; followed suit is an act of self pleasure, he gradually wraps his dominant around his throbbing girth, reveling the wamrth he had to offer to himself in dead silence.
the stellaron hunter may not show it but gratification already courses through his system. at a slow pace, he continues to lean more towards your figure, his cock now at its full glory. its head twitches, itching for a sensation for it to be enveloped in; something warm, something tight and something alive. three qualifications that his mere hands could not satisfy.
perhaps that was your sole purpose for you being brought here in the stellaron hunters' temporary hideout. he rips your clothes with one clean cut from the cracked sword he brandishes, one of the many ways he showcases his astonishing swordsmanship. steadily positioning himself from your slit, a hot, rock hard feeling rubs on your lower lips.
blade's heart begins to pulsate against his rib cage, each beat becoming louder and faster in such an irregular manner. the more he got to feel your slippery cunt, the more eager he only got. and with one powerful thrust, he successfully makes his entrance inside you, his cock lavishing the comfort of your velvet walls clamping around his length.
he huffs a deep breath and only realizes it late as he catches a quick whiff of your scent— for some reason, he was drawn on. the male inches forward your neck, his hands tightly clasped on yours to make sure there would be no attempt of escape. presently atop you while you laid on your stomach, you could feel some faint but added pressure on your limbs plus a somewhat familiar presence from above.
blade was only detached from what you were feeling and only carried on with his own intentions. he rams inside you with no forewarnings, his tip fills you all the way up to the very brim. a breathy, whiny moan erupts in the vicinity that undoubtedly came from you but he heeds no mind to it— continuing to pound into your walls, intruding with such an abrupt pace and not in gradual motions.
in anything that he does, he emanates of destruction. a polar opposite of care, tenderness and love; it shows in his rough, vertiginious thrusts, his firm tight touch, and lastly, in his facial expression. you were not one bit shocked, if anything, you just accepted what is happening as of the present. being used as a cocksleeve for a passing feeling, it rips at your heartstrings but you were powerless before him.
you continued to pretend as if you were still dozing off in spite the mewl that you tried so hard to bite back, stifling more noises threatening to slip out. it would be far more awkward if you're awake as you weren't one bit acquainted with blade. not even shared glances, all the information you have is an overheard conversation from the hunters, only knowing his sole name : blade.
the swordsman eventually begins to drop his guard down, becoming more lax at letting his guttural groans come undone from his mouth. his bandaged hand wanders on your naked, exposed skin, traveling to places where he finds the most appealing. aside from the sound of skin slapping, clothes shifting and his jagged breathing were accompanied by the chime of his dangling scarlet earring.
a sharp pang of pain follows from a loud smack sound. it was his slender hand coming into harsh contact against the plush of your ass, leaving darker imprints from your complexion - it was no doubt, his spanking's seal. you could no longer play pretend as you wince from the pain, your eyes shot open and you turn your head.
your vision was then graced by the indigo haired, he took notice that you were awoken but as usual, he's cold as a gelid ice. he did not care.
when suddenly, he withdraws his cock from your pussy and flips your body around— thus making you meet his face, catching you off guard from your current dazed state. you slowly look up to meet his sharp gaze to the point that you could see your own image from his vivid cerise eyes. your very first locked gaze with blade, and mayhaps the last. his hand clasps on yours once again but only to bring it down to your cunt, he proceeds to uncurl your balled up fist.
he guides your fingers to stroke and pleasure yourself, your own digits prodding through your wet entrance. your breathing quickens, a foreign sensation brewing in the pits of your abdomen; meanwhile blade doesn't do anything but to watch on your expressions. "continue." blade commands ; his raspy, deep voice resounds into your ears.
you were struck with both of shock and nervousness, his tone laced with authority and coldness to it yet again. as embarrassing as it is to do it in front of a man you've never met in your lifetime, you obey his order, continuing to pump your fingers in and out of your coiling walls before his predatory naked eyes.
the navy haired pleasures himself at present, along with you - matching your rhythm. your legs spread open in front of him to feast upon that no man has ever tasted, an unfamiliar sensation wells in his heart. he groans and picks up the pace of him stroking his own erection, a feeling of release immediately dawning upon him.
with blurry vision, for a moment, you could see a hint of sadness and regret behind the vermillion windows of his soul. although the actions he's committing currently are lascivious and of lust, you swear to yourself there was something more than what meets the eye.
as quickly time flashes, strings of muddy white spring out from his cock, the liquids spilling into your exposed tits and your panic stricken face. he catches his breath in the midst of it, heavy panting echoes inside the enclosed vicinity. "i didn't order you to stop."
his words pierces your perturbed mind, he pertains to your masturbation ending just as when he reached his climax. the male swiftly gathers all the cum littering your skin with one hand and one movement, cupping the liquids carefully only to insert all of it into your pussy.
a moan bubbles from your throat, feeling his long fingers curl inside your sticky walls. blade, even though a stoic man most of the time, he's also full of surprises. he flicks his tongue over your clit, the pointy tip rubbing viscules and in circular motions on the specific spot.
your back arches, waves of pleasure crashing upon your lethargic self. blade doesn't halt and carries on to suck your walls out, margins of his sticky lips perfectly fitting with your lower ones. his tongue once again skillfully glides over your sensitive parts— earning him your climax as it spills out from your hole, adorning his sharp, masculine features as if your ejaculation was an accessory.
it felt ecstatic, as if your body drifts into the seventh heaven from blade's cold touches. in spite of the overwhelming gratification pooling in your body, hundreds of questions start to flare up in your mind, mainly about blade's identity. naturally, it rolls from your lips, a question he didn't see coming.
"what are you really?"
among the many blank faces blade shows you this night, he finally unravels a different one upon encountering your question. "are you really that fervent to know?" he rhetorically asks as a sneering smile creeps on his lips.
my masterlist !
#blade x reader#blade honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#blade smut#blade x reader smut#hsr x reader#hsr smut#honkai star rail smut
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Hot take:
Crosshair does not have the Imperial disillusionment and redemption arc of The Bad Batch
Emerie does.
Crosshair has an arc for sure yes but it's not that.
I was thinking about this scene:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6d97856039879680e5bcb2e11cc58486/7243b96e1fbe8cba-55/s500x750/a7209cf9a32d05ba8eecd3432307f3e7bfcf4920.webp)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/24f30451e1286df81501aef3c30edf02/7243b96e1fbe8cba-2b/s500x750/efe87225f4241380c59844e084da0c01c42b48e9.webp)
and how it got right what this scene kinda didn't:
(It was so close but then bad writing decided to undercut the moment with a joke rip)
And I think it's really interesting that these characters who were more or less raised into the Empire/First Order and chose to leave it are all directly asked why.
But take a look at Crosshair's answers in comparison:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/25ec201a7b7aa6d7da4980efb383a552/7243b96e1fbe8cba-b7/s500x750/31147a0f835ef6251af349051d59894aa8bed172.webp)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c1d40e2c7b7294d95f8d1cbd7cc2bf5b/7243b96e1fbe8cba-22/s500x750/0133004107621a29985c3d77078b29a027c9f4e6.webp)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/7a403fbb3b93706d747eccfce777ee7d/7243b96e1fbe8cba-2a/s500x750/c4b5962a2176766b36af377644b63e2492c4fef6.webp)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/00fe619b2c906290b4b3c16a2e2e3588/7243b96e1fbe8cba-39/s500x750/8573cee77da213e4e7fa8eab4028236d4924981c.webp)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/cd06d44c178d471fa95557eb0e0b09bb/7243b96e1fbe8cba-49/s500x750/ab01b0d268576c3b58ac8d4ea2ccdc9edef966ad.webp)
Different context for the asking, yes, but still, compare that to clones like Howzer, Cody, Slip and Cade who left or turned against the Empire because they knew what the Empire is doing is wrong and they weren't just going to blindly follow orders:
Crosshair - Loyalty, Purpose, and Survival
Crosshair didn't choose to join the Empire (though the show isn't very clear or consistent about how much control the inhibitor chips have) but he did, for whatever reason, choose to stay. By the end of S1 we know his chip has been removed and as he definitively says "This is who I am." There were likely still other influences on his decision, but listen to how he talks about the Empire in the S1 finale:
Hunter: Crosshair, I've seen what the Empire is doing. Occupying planets and silencing anyone who stands against them. You know it's not right. Crosshair: You still don’t see the bigger picture, but you will. Hunter: Can't you see they're using you?
Crosshair: We’re not like the regs, we never have been. We’re superior. The Empire can’t protect the galaxy without strength, this is what we were made for. Think of all we could do, together!
Crosshair: You all are meant for more than drifting through the galaxy. It’s time to stop running. Join the Empire, and you will have purpose again.
Hunter: They destroyed an entire city! Crosshair: They did what needed to be done. Kamino, regs, the Republic, that time is over. The Empire will control the entire galaxy, and I am going to be a part of it. Hunter: Don't fool yourself. All you'll ever be to them is a number.
He undeniably knows what the Empire is doing, but he does not care. In fact it sure sounds like he actually supports it and finds self-meaning in it. Hunter spends those episodes trying to convince him it's wrong, he doesn't change his mind. In the end they offer him an out and he doesn't take it.
Wrecker: You coming with us? Crosshair: None of this changes anything. Hunter: You offered us a chance, Crosshair. This is yours. Crosshair: I made my decision.
The next we see Crosshair in "The Solitary Clone" (S2:E3) he follows orders and shoots the Desix governor, right after Cody heartbreakingly tries to do what's right and find a peaceful solution.
Cody: Tell me something, Crosshair. This new Empire, are we making the galaxy better? Crosshair: We’re soldiers, we do what needs to be done. Cody: You know what makes us different from battle droids? We make our own decisions, our own choices. And we have to live with them too.
After this (glorious!) conversation, Crosshair stays. Maybe this began to seed some doubts, but he actually smiles a few scenes later when Rampart assigns him another mission. It seems like for him it truly is as he said in S1:E1 (chip not enhanced yet but still influencing him enough for his brothers to notice he's acting strange):
Crosshair: Republic, Empire... what's the difference.
Crosshair: Orders are orders.
This unethical mission that finally pushed Cody over the edge does not change Crosshair's mind about the Empire, at least not enough for him to take action.
But what does?
Mayday: And here we are, the survivors. Combat troopers stuck babysitting cargo shipments. Crosshair: Mission’s a mission. Mayday: Yeah, I used to say the same thing.
Mayday: After all the clones have done, all we’ve sacrificed. We’re good soldiers, we followed orders. And for what?
This mission has nothing to do with how the fascist Empire treats the galaxy, it's about how they treat their soldiers. It's about how Mayday loyally fought and served his whole life and Lieutenant Nolan let him die
Lt Nolan: He served his purpose as a soldier of the Empire. Crosshair: You could have saved him! Lt Nolan: Perhaps you didn’t hear me, he is expendable, as are you.
Crosshair thought he could find purpose within the Empire, and Nolan shows him exactly what that will be.
His turning point is accompanied with this powerful visual of the ice vulture, a symbol (and threat) of death, and also set up within the episode a symbol of survival:
Mayday: Vicious creatures, but you have to admire ‘em. They find a way to survive.
This critical moment (that gives me chills, oof this episode is a masterpiece!) comes right after Nolan calls him expendable and directly threatens him:
Lt Nolan: And if you speak to me again with such disrespect I'll see to it you meet a similar fate, clone.
then Crosshair sees the vulture's shadow and turns to Mayday's dead body (ahh visual storytelling my beloved) then makes his decision:
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/cd06d44c178d471fa95557eb0e0b09bb/7243b96e1fbe8cba-49/s500x750/ab01b0d268576c3b58ac8d4ea2ccdc9edef966ad.webp)
Crosshair turns against the Empire not because he believes Hunter was right about this:
Hunter: I've seen what the Empire is doing ... You know it's not right.
but because he was right about this:
Hunter: All you'll ever be to them is a number.
Redemption (both in fiction and irl in my humble opinion) comes with making amends and reparations (which is why death 'redemptions' bother me so much but that's a rant for another time). Unlike Emerie, Crosshair never explicitly denounces the Empire or his own actions within it. He never says anything to specifically show if and how his views have changed from what he said on Kamino. He makes amends with his family (sending the warning message, helping Omega escape, making up with Hunter) but that's about it. The most we get in terms of acknowledgement is this:
Crosshair: I thought I knew what I was getting into with the Empire. I thought I was being a good soldier. Hunter: Nobody really understood what was happening back then. Crosshair: I’ve... done things. I’ve made mistakes. Hunter: I have regrets too, Crosshair. All we can do is keep trying to be better, and who knows there just might be hope for us yet.
Which is nice and all but it's more about them making up as brothers so it's way too excusing tbh ("no one knew what was happening back then" ummm? "The Empire will control the entire galaxy, and I am going to be a part of it" remember? And even if at first Crosshair was being controlled by the chip, the fact that he chose to stay after it was removed* means he condones and is therefore still accountable for those actions).
There's also a bit of self-destructive guilt:
Crosshair: Omega, don't risk anything for me. I belong in here.
Crosshair: Omega needs you both. So I’m doing this alone, it’s what I deserve. Hunter: Don’t even think about plan 99, Crosshair. Omega needs all of us.
(which thank you Hunter for pushing back on the death redemption bs and oh look is that a wrap up for the purpose thing?)
But there's no action taken on his part to make up for what he's done or to stand against the Empire (aside from the bare minimum of help with Tantiss, only after it became personally relevant, which like yeah he had trauma to deal with but still).
While I do think the implications/follow-up of Crosshair's turn should have been handled better in S3 (like rip Howzer! he deserved an apology, but that's a rant for another time), I don't necessarily** think this arc is a bad writing choice. It's just saying different things than we expect:
Maybe Crosshair's story is not about standing up against an unjust system, like we see with many other characters (who deserved more screen time but that's a rant for another timeeee). Maybe his story is about how even those who are loyal to the Empire, who actually believe in it, still suffer under and within it's rule. Not to garner sympathy, but to show that there is no winning.
Crosshair has another 'so what changed' convo in S3:E14 with Rampart, in which they draw parallels to each other:
Rampart: You used to believe good soldiers followed orders. Crosshair: Depends on who's giving them. The Empire betrayed us both. Rampart: And you think you can fight them? That's not you. You're like me, loyal to no one but yourself. Crosshair: I've changed.
(note how he says who's giving the orders, not what the orders are)
"Loyal to no one but yourself" describes Rampart much more than Crosshair, since we often saw Crosshair pride himself as a loyal soldier of the Empire whereas we saw Rampart abuse power to be self-serving within the Empire (like when he killed Wilco to save face). But they were both betrayed either way. Vice Admiral Rampart, snively Imperial opportunist through-and-through, shouts "I was following orders!" as he is arrested for the Empire's purposes. (Edit: and where Crosshair rejected the Empire and found new purpose fighting for his family, Rampart was still self-serving in the finale. He still tries to gain power for himself and he gets his comeuppance).
Even Hemlock, the final boss immoral Imperial scientist, who has to be benefiting the most from this system, echoes the expendability idea:
Hemlock: What I am working on is beyond your understanding. Something so vital to the Empire it makes me indispensable.
Then there's CX-2, also set up as a parallel/foil to Crosshair (fight me), who in the end is discarded as no more than a weapon, a tool that served it's purpose, showing us what would have become of Crosshair if he had stayed.
There is no winning in the Empire. Loyalty is not rewarded, it "doesn't go both ways." Everyone has to fight for their value. Even high ranking individuals** who for a time benefit from the injustice, in the end are just pawns to be used up and cast aside at a whim for the Emperor's gain. Even people who are motivated by self-interest alone cannot survive within this system, the only viable option in this galaxy is to fight the Empire and dismantle that system. (unless you conveniently find a magically safe island to hide away on but that's a rAnT fOr AnOtHeR tImE)
Which brings us back to...
Emerie - Cooperation, Compassion, and Choice
(Okay this post has already gotten away from me but I still want to talk about her to show the contrasts.)
Emerie may not have been given a lot of screen time to really flesh out her development, but there is a lot that is pretty clearly implied with her:
Crosshair: They’ll never turn her [Omega] over. Hemlock: They don’t have a choice. She is a clone, and therefore Imperial property. *Camera cuts to an angle more centered on Emerie’s face*
Crosshair: Give me your access card! Emerie: It won’t get you outside!
Emerie: I tried to warn him what would happen if he did not cooperate with the Doctor.
Emerie: Prisoner? Omega, you are no such thing. It will take time to adjust, but you will acclimate. It is far safer in here than out there.
Emerie: You should go back to your room. Crosshair: You mean her cell?
Emerie: Why children? Hemlock: Children are easier to attain and more agreeable to the subjugations. They are unaware of why they are here and what they possess.
Emerie: They're children. Like I was... Was your plan to discard them too? Nala Se: The Empire will keep them in order to control them.
We don't know a lot about Emerie's background, but it's clear that she had a lot less choice than Crosshair and less opportunity or ability to leave. Unlike Crosshair, we never directly hear Emerie's views of the Empire (and she was most likely 'taken under Hemlock's wing' before the Empire even came to power), but lets look at how she talks about the Tantiss:
"Remain calm. Cooperate and you might survive."
"Don't make this worse, Crosshair! There is no escape!"
"All of us serve a purpose here."
"The Doctor will inform me, if it's necessary."
"It's best not to ask questions."
"Escape is not possible, Omega. This is for your own good."
She honestly does the best she can within the system she is also trapped in. She tries to help Crosshair, Omega, and the vault kids in the only way she knows how (warns Crosshair about the hounds and security, tries to protect Omega from Hemlock, tells Scorch his "actions were extreme" with Jax, insists on overseeing Bayrn's retrieval, double checks his m-count (to give him an out), and tries to find out where he came from). When she gives Omega, and later Eva, the doll, I think it shows just how little she really is able to do here (and it's kinda heartbreaking imo).
The framing of this shot especially (after Jax's escape attempt) visually shows how Emerie herself is trapped/imprisoned:
Despite the fact that very little of this is Emerie's fault, she has very little power and she is doing all she can, the narrative does not excuse her role in the Empire:
Nala Se: What will you do, Emerie? Emerie: There is nothing I can do. I don't have that kind of power. Nala Se: Don't you?
Emerie: I- I was doing my job. Echo: Yeah, I’ve heard that before. You’re a clone. How can you be part of this?
These fighting-the-Bystander-Effect conversations parallel these exchanges:
Hunter: We made a choice, and so did you. Crosshair: Soldiers follow orders. Hunter: Blind allegiance makes you a pawn.
Crosshair: We’re soldiers, we do what needs to be done. Cody: You know what makes us different from battle droids? We make our own decisions, our own choices. And we have to live with them too.
which did not change Crosshair's mind. And honestly, all respect to Echo's disappointed mom glare™ but I think it's clear Emerie had already made her decision, she just needed help to actually be able to do anything about it. When she stopped Echo, with her voice wavering on the verge of tears (ahhh v good voice acting), she clearly had no intention of turning him in. She's on her own in the Empire's most secure facility with very little resources, if she had tried anything on her own she most likely would have failed and been killed
Omega: Emerie, you don't have to do this. Emerie: (sigh) I’m sorry, but I do.
but as soon as she is enabled by an ally, she immediately turns around to help: giving information and getting Echo through security, helping the kids escape, and giving Omega the tablet that allows them to free the other clone prisoners.
Where Crosshair's turn is accompanied by the symbolic imagery of the ice vulture, Emerie's is the removal of her (literally rose-tinted!) glasses:
Symbolizing how she has shed her previous views/indoctrination that altered her perception of the Empire and blinded her to it's wrongs. It's disillusionment.
Emerie's story shows us that even those who are raised and indoctrinated into this system can, should, and will escape (with needed help). Even those who did not choose to be apart of the Empire and are not making the decisions still have the responsibility and ability to act on what they know is right.
Emerie, whose name means 'Home strength' 'Brave' and 'Powerful', and "reflects the importance of leadership and authority in the workplace".***
While Emerie is only in one more scene after her turn, so the wrap up is a bit rushed, she still very simply does what Crosshair does not:
Emerie: Because I was wrong about this place. And I'm trying to do the right thing.
Echo: I’m sure Senator Chuchi would find what you have to say very helpful for our cause. Emerie: I have a lot to make up for. I’d like to help out however I can.
She admits wrong, takes accountability, commits to making amends, and leaves with Echo to go take on the Empire (which hopefully we will get to actually see more of some day).
So, in short, she's showing us how redemption is done right!
---
Notes:
*Whether this writing choice was good/logical/in-character or not is another discussion entirely, but I'm going off of what we were given, what the show is presenting in the canon text and (reasonably inferred/intentional) subtext. Crosshair is pretty multifaceted and I could only touch on so much here. There's a lot of ways to interpret his character/choices, but I tried to avoid the realm of speculation or fanon explanations (even if they sometimes make more sense lol).
**History and political theory are not my area of expertise at all, so I have NO idea how well this aligns with real-world fascism stuff and therefore what implications this storytelling choice could have. I think the message of like 'if you think you could survive or gain power by doing what the Empire/fascist system wants you are wrong' could be good (like how everyone is actually harmed by the patriarchy type of a thing), but I hesitate bc maybe there are those who would benefit, since it's a hierarchal system, right? If anyone more knowledgeable than me has incite to share, by all means
Either way, I do think it works in-story and in-universe though. It's just in the execution. The main problem (even from a strictly theme/character arc stand point) is the lacking follow-up/consequences for Crosshair in S3. Like you gave your character accountability by removing the chip and I think that's great setup for an arc but you gotta follow through with that and actually hold him accountable!
***I'm always curious when clones have 'normal' names, like why did they chose the name Emerie of all things? So I looked it up. Idk how reliable sources are for name meanings so take it with a grain of salt but it's still fun. Fits pretty well, and clones names have definitely had significant meanings in the past (like how Rex and Jesse both mean 'king') so I'm pretty sure it was intentional.
Anyway, thanks for coming to my tedtalk
#this fandom has been SLEEPING on Emerie's arc yall!#like look at her I LOVE her#I was kinda neutral about her on the first watch but now i'm realizing just how sad and scary her story is#she's honestly pretty cool and interesting as a character and i do hope we get to see more of her at some point#also the outpost is such good writing ahhh if only the whole show had the same quality#sorry crosshair girlies your blorbo is kinda a fascist?#like we don't judge a character based off who they were/what they said at the BEGINNING of their arc#they have to start somewhere to end up somewhere else#it's how well the writing executes that transition that matters#but also where did he end up? really :/#star wars#the bad batch#tbb analysis#tbb critical#those rants may come we'll see#star wars finn#emerie karr#tbb crosshair#arc trooper echo#captain howzer#commander cody#commander mayday#tbb cx 2#writing#writing pet peeves#character analysis#redemption arcs
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Monster
Tamlin x Reader
TAMLIN MASTERLIST
MAIN MASTERLIST
Summary: Reader sees her mate Tamlin lose himself to magic for the first time during her first Calanmai
Cw: Dark!Tamlin, vines as tentacles, corruption kink, breeding kink, erotic asphyxiation, impact play, monster fucking if you squint (don't read if you don't like it), Smut 18+MDNI
You stood outside the cave Tamlin was in, you'd been fashionably late, wearing a soft green dress that reached your upper thighs, parts of it translucent like a silk slip, and a sweetheart neckline that accentuated your breasts, it might have been the most skimpy thing you'd ever worn, a little gift for your mate, the High Lord, who was in a cave this very moment, the festivities of Calanmai about to begin.
You were surrounded by a bunch of Fae women, all looking expectantly at the cave your mate had gone in, your mate won't be who came out, The Hunter, Tamlin had called himself, would. Dark and strong magic in control of his mind and body.
The constant pull he had on your mating bond made you feel better about everything he had said, he won't be your Tamlin, he'd asked if there was anything you were uncomfortable with for him to do, it didn't feel like he would remember.
Your heart started to beat faster when you heard a growl from the cave he'd gone in, come out, he winnowed right in front of you, pure lust in his eyes, laurel leaves keeping his hair out of his painfully handsome face, he was bare-chested, painted in dark blue woads.
Things were quiet except for the beating of the drums that beat loudly, Tamlin gently caressed your cheeks with his knuckles, his claws threatening to break free before he gripped your neck, making you gasp for air and winnow you back to the cave he was in.
You groaned as your ass hit the hard ground, wincing slightly, Tamlin stalked close to you from where he was standing, nothing in him except pure lust and the need for his mate. A Hunter indeed, trapping a lovely maiden inside a cave, he was at the side of the entrance, and there was nowhere for you to run, except for deeper in the cave, not that you wanted to.
"Oh, I'm going to ruin you fully now," Tamlin groaned, walking to you like a predator stalking it's prey.
"Rough or gentle?" Tamlin growled mindlessly, a voice that didn't even seem his as he looked down your body, smirking at your dress, or rather barely a dress, "Aww, is this thin piece of fabric all for me?"
You nodded softly, "Y-yes." You bit your lips as he knelt between your legs, waiting for your answer to his former question, you were sure you could hear the sounds of leaves and vines from deeper in the cave, "Anything you want, my Lord."
You felt him shudder at the title from your lips as he pried your legs open, giving you a smile that showed his blunt canines elongating into fangs, "Rough then, for my good girl."
His words were filled with an unmistakable tone of dominance, as if he was taking control of every aspect of the situation. His hands gripped your thighs firmly. He leaned down, his breath hot on your skin. You could feel the weight of his body against yours as he whispered in your ear, "I'll fuck you so hard that you won't be able to walk straight afterward."
Before you could even reply, he bent forward, slamming his lips against yours in an aggressive kiss, his hands gripping your clothes to rip them off your body, turning your silk and lace to shreds off your body, you gasped as the cold air of the cave hit your bare body, feeling Tamlin press against you fully, leaving the paint his body had been marked him to rub against yours, your own eyes hazy from the spell of the Rite, moulding into his, submitting to him, ready for anything he had to give you.
"You look so beautiful like this," He whispered, his teeth grazing your neck, "All submissive and willing."
You whimper lightly, leaning into his lips, "Tam-" He gave you a look and you corrected, "My Lord... Please."
"Please what, princess?" He taunted her, his lips trailing down your neck to your shoulders, the Hunter breathing you in, crazed by your scent, you could feel your arousal between your legs, spread apart for Tamlin to settle in between, your cunt pulsing for even an ounce of friction.
"Give me something," You panted, sensing his hard cock, still in his pants, pressing against your inner thigh, "Please, anything."
"Oh, like this?" He asked curiously, his fingers ghosting over your clit making your hip buckle into his hand, he smiled watching you grip his hands to bring his hand closer.
He tutted, taking both your hands in his to pin them over your head with one, "Behave now, you said anything I want. And I want to make you cry." A wave of relief washed over you as he had a little mercy on you and rubbed your clit harder.
Your relief was short-lived as he pulled his hand away making you kick your feet in frustration, which earned a chuckle out of him. As you felt his warm breath against your neck, you couldn't help but tremble in anticipation. With a gentle tug, he pulled your head back by your hair, exposing your neck to his sharp teeth. A chill ran through your veins as you heard him growl, "You belong to me now, little mate. So, I can do whatever I want with you."
"Keep your hands up," He growls, bringing his hands down to spread your thighs, his teeth still on your sensitive neck as you whimper. Tamlin grunted in pleasure, his teeth sinking into your soft flesh. He bit down hard, causing a small trickle of blood to seep out from the wound. As he did so, he used his free hands to grab your breasts, twisting and pinching roughly, groping you fully. You let out a muffled cry, biting your lips, feeling the pain and the heat from his bite.
He shushed you gently, giving soothing licks to the bite mark, licking away the blood, "That's it... See, now I've claimed you fully, my precious mate." He quickly moved to bite the other side of your neck to give a symmetrical bit mark
"My Lord..." You breath, "My Tam..."
He moved to your face, a couple tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you looked up at him, his kissed over your eye lids, making your tears fall as he moved to his pants, ripping them off his body, finally releasing his painfully hard cock, it stood tall and proud, the tip glistening with precum. He grabbed your leg, pulling it upwards, exposing your wet cunt to him even more.
"Look at you liking this," He mused as you tried thrust your core anywhere, for any sort of friction, you make the mistake of bringing your hand down from where he had told you to hold them, in a blink of an eye there are vines surrounding you, growing from his magic, under his control, he face is expressionless, "I told you to keep your hand up, Princess."
You gasp, struggling as the vines he grew gripped painfully tight around your arms, pulling them up, some sneaked past your hips, holding your legs open for him.
"You don't deserve to be stretch for me," He decides with a sadistic grin, with a wave of his hands the vines flip you on your stomach and tuck your knees under, a slight pain in your knees from being slammed down, spiking your every growing arousal. "I'll take you tight." He smirked, leaning over you.
You wait in anticipation for him, to feel the nudge of him against your dripping slit but what you felt was a hand, the hand of a beast, Tamlin's beast, claws sharp and long, soft golden fur growing on his Fae arms, somewhere between completely Fae and beast, he held you by your neck in a tight grip, making it difficult for you to breath.
You jerk with a cry of pain from a resounding slap, his hand on your ass, with a force that would cause a mark, another followed on the opposite side. You were breathless and aroused, waiting for his next move when you, at last, left his tip nudge at your wet slit, grinding against him, or trying to, after being bound, vines that stalked to between your legs, a few thinner ones wrapping around your clit to tug at the neglected nub causing you to shake.
Tamlin's claws dug into your thigh, holding you tightly in place. He leaned forward, his face inches away from yours. The cave seemed to spin around you, as if they were both caught in a whirlwind of passion and lust. His voice was low and rough, like the rumble of the beast he hadn't fully let out. "Now, I'm going to fuck you until you beg me to stop."
You barely muffled the scream that erupted from your throat as he plunged into your cunt fully, a vine wrapping itself around your neck and squeezing tight to quiet you down, not giving you any time to adjust as he began a rough pace. "That's it..." He growled, purely animalistic, "Scream my name."
And you did, you screamed his name with every thrust, every whine and moan that left your lips, his name followed, your High Lord, your mate, legs shaking with the urge to cum at the pleasure of his cock's punishing pace and at the vines tugging at your clit.
"I'm gonna make you a mother," Tamlin groaned, thrusting in as far as he could, "Give you all my heirs. That's what you want, don't you?" He felt you through the bond as you nodded fast, a gentle kiss on the back of your shoulder blades seemed foreign compared to everything else as he whispered, "Cum for me, Princess."
You came hard, clenching hard around Tamlin's cock, milking his cock when he hit his high right after you, fucking his thick knot in, making yours eyes bulge out at the stretch that was pure beast. He emptied his seed in you, dropping lightly as your legs twitched, his knot keeping him in and not letting him pull out.
You both whimpered, the spell of the Rite washing away as Tamlin wrapped a gentle arm around your waist, stroking your now filled abdomen.
The vines and claws retracted as he turned you on your side, still buried inside you, "The knot is good, hm?" He kissed your hair softly. "Keeps my cum in you."
"Let go for me, dear," He gently rubbed the welts and red marks the vines and his hands had given you, lulling you to relax with a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "Rest up, there is more for tonight."
{General Taglist: @nox-ceur @lilah-asteria @paleidiot}
#acotar#acotar series#acosf#acomaf#acowar#tamlin smut#tamlin#tamlin acotar#pro tamlin#tamlin x reader
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He knows your favorite color, your childhood fears, and how you’ll look in a coffin.
♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology
♡ Pairing. Yandere! FBI Agent x Fem. Reader
♡ Oneshot. #1
♡ Word Count. 865
The fluorescent lights hum above, sterile and cold, casting sharp shadows on the concrete walls. You’ve been sitting there for hours, hands trembling in your lap, wrists raw from the biting metal of the handcuffs he fastened too tightly. The air reeks of copper and disinfectant. His scent cuts through it all—cologne muted by sweat and iron. It clings to your skin, branding you, suffocating you.
He watches you from the other side of the table, an impenetrable wall of muscle and authority. The tailored suit stretches taut over his shoulders, framing a chest that could crush you. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing forearms veined and powerful, the kind you could imagine snapping necks without hesitation. His jaw is tight, shadowed with stubble, lips curling around a cigarette he’s not smoking. He doesn’t need to. The threat lingers in his silence, in the way his narrowed cold eye studies you, dissecting every inch of your quivering form.
“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” His voice is gravel, low and cutting, a razor against your ears. “Every breath you take, every blink, every time you clench those pretty little thighs—I see it. You think you’re smart, playing coy, hiding behind your trembling innocence. But I’ve been watching you for years, sweets.”
The way he says it sends a chill ripping down your spine. Years? Your stomach lurches, bile rising in your throat, but you swallow it down. You try to meet his gaze, defiance flickering behind your panic, but the way his lips curve into a predator’s smirk makes you regret it instantly.
“Don’t look at me like that.” He leans forward, the heavy oak table groaning under the weight of his arms. His eye gleams, sharp and calculating, a hunter reveling in the sight of his trapped prey. “Unless you want me to punish you right here. Is that it? Do you want me to break you down where the cameras can see? I can. I will. But you’re mine, and you’re smarter than that, aren’t you?”
His knuckles crack as he flexes his fingers, the sound echoing in the empty room. He slides the recorder off the table with a flick of his wrist, the device shattering against the floor. His calm dissolves in the blink of an eye, replaced by something feral, volcanic, terrifying. He’s standing now, looming over you, the chair scraping the floor behind him like a warning.
You try to shrink back, the cuffs clinking as you press against the chair, but his hand darts out faster than you can react. His fingers tangle in your hair, jerking your head back, exposing your neck. His breath is hot, acidic, on your skin as he leans in, speaking directly into your ear.
“Do you even understand what you’ve done to me?” His voice trembles, not with vulnerability, but with the strain of holding himself back. “You’ve made me into this. This thing. This monster who wakes up every night imagining what your blood would taste like on my tongue. You don’t know what it’s like to feel this way, to be consumed by you, to want to rip apart anything that touches you just so I can glue you back together with my own hands.”
The hand not tangled in your hair drags down your arm, leaving a trail of bruises in its wake, his thumb pressing cruelly into your wrist. “These little hands…what were you thinking, trying to run with them? As if you could open a single locked door I didn’t personally design to keep you exactly where you belong.”
You’re sobbing now, silent tears streaming down your cheeks, but he doesn’t stop. He revels in your misery, his voice dipping into something dangerously soft, almost sweet. “Do you know how beautiful you are when you’re afraid? It’s fucking intoxicating. I don’t just want your body, sweets. I want your soul. I want to mold it, twist it, own it until the only thing left is me.”
He steps back suddenly, releasing you. You crumple forward, gasping for air like you’ve been drowning, but the reprieve is short-lived. His massive hand claps your shoulder, dragging you up to your feet like a ragdoll. His eye bores into yours, the weight of his presence suffocating, inescapable.
“You don’t have to like it, sweets,” he murmurs, voice a low, rumbling storm. “You just have to remember one thing: there’s no world where you exist without me. None. I’ll find you in every lifetime, in every corner of hell, and I’ll make you mine again. And again. And again.”
The lock clicks. You realize it isn’t the door—it’s the shackles he’s just fastened around your ankles. He tugs the chain once, hard enough to pull you off balance. His laughter fills the air as you stumble, the sound dark, amused, and utterly devoid of humanity.
“That’s better,” he muses, gripping your chin and tilting your face upward to meet his. “Now, why don’t you thank me, sweets? For saving you. For loving you. For making you perfect.”
#fbi agent#fbi au#fbi#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere drabble#yandere headcanons#yandere blurb#male yandere x reader#yandere scenarios#male yandere#obsessive yandere#possessive yandere#yandere imagines#tw yandere#yandere male#yandere male x reader#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere blog#yandere romance#yandere boy#yandere oc#yandere oneshot#yandere oneshots#oneshotx reader#yandere oc x reader#reader insert#fem reader#yan blog
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𝑻𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆
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𝒗𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒙 𝒗𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
• +18 minors do it interact. just smut, seduction, blood sucking, biting, unprotected sex, little oral (m), praising, etc.
𝒗𝒂𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒍𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕
divider by @anitalenia
“Are you going to stake me, hunter?” You breathed straddling his perfect hips. Your sharp nails travelling up and down his naked chest, he groaned under his breath closing his eyes. “Poor Anna.. without protection now because you are here with me..” you smiled, canines growing out as you inhaled his scent. Rubbing your dripping wet heat against his growing cock. His black slacks were loosed, he was sleeping when you snuck to his bed since the Valerian Castle was empty. Thundering outside, you had a perfect opportunity to take what you craved. “I will rip your heart out..” he breathed feeling your tongue on his nipples softly swirling around them. “You would be doing it now.. but you aren’t..” smiling provocatively you straddled his hips again hands on his toned stomach caressing his muscles there reaching near his happy trail. He nearly moaned. “I kill your kind, you’re nothing but all the same” you cooed at his words.
“Why aren’t you killing me now?” You bit your lower lip rolling your hips against his making him moan softly beneath you. He hated to admit that the moment he saw you, he wanted you. Licking your mouth you pulled him up to sit straight. He grunted letting you, licking your way into his mouth your mouths collided in hot kiss. Tongues touching sending needy sensations down your spine. You moaned seductively pulling on his slacks so the belt and buttons opened revealing his hard cock. You drooled at the sight of it “I make you feel this way..” whining your shimmied between his legs wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock sucking on it. His hand gripped your long locks guiding you on his length grunting gritting his teeth in pleasure. “It’s okay to admit.. admit it..” you pulled away with a pop giving him soft kitty licks. He trembled– you pushed him back down and climbed on top of him.
Pulling your black dress up on your waist hovering your naked dripping wet core over his cock slowly sinking down on him. He moaned out, you smiled mischievously “let them hear you sugar..” your hips slid back and forth gyrating your pussy over his thick veiny length. He filled you out so perfectly, touching your shoulders you sped up your movements fucking yourself on his cock looking at him as your fangs grew out even more. He gripped your waist pulling you closer breathing harshly swallowing. “Too bad I can’t carry your angel babies..” you whined tipping your head back your breasts nearly jumping out of your dress as he gripped one in his hand squeezing it. You growled with hunter taking you his thumb between your lips to suck on it. “I-I.. I don’t remember you” he moaned watching your pussy take all of his cock as you rode him.
“You don’t have to sugar.. my master does, he remembers you” moaning loudly you fastened your hips fucking him making him groan and grit his teeth chest heaving in deep breasts hands on your naked derrière squeezing the supple flesh. Tipping your head back your hands combed through his long silky brown hair pulling him closer but he flipped you over lifting your waist off the silky sheets pounding into you. You laughed seductively letting him use you. Curling your legs around his waist, your skins clapping echoed in the empty room. The cold breeze blowing out the candles settling the room in darkness you scratched down his manly back stopping above his pumping ass. “Ughhhh.. more more..” whining spurring him on, your sharp fangs sinking into his neck piercing his veins. He moaned loudly, slamming you down into the mattress fucking into you. You gulped on his blood, clinging to his body nails digging into his shoulder blades. Pulling away to breathe your moans only increased when you neared your orgasm soon he was yelling his orgasm against your neck, you came the same second drenching his mighty length in your essence squeezing him deeply in your core milking him. “Mmmm Mr Van Helsing..” you whimpered, he looked down at you gorgeous hair falling over his face his thumb carrying your lower lip. “You got me under some kind of a spell..” you nodded smiling as your canines grew out again. “Mmmm..”
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happy spooky season 🩸
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#hugh jackman#hugh jackman fanfic#hugh jackman fluff#hugh jackman x reader#hugh jackman x y/n#hugh jackman x you#hugh jackman x female reader#gabriel van helsing smut#van helsing smut#gabriel van helsing#van helsing#hugh jackman smut#hugh jackman imagine#hugh jackman fanfiction
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I wanna feel you from the inside-
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Song: Closer - Nine Inch Nails
Summary: Using his weakness against him to snag a cheap rescue was playing dirty, but unfortunately for you, Norton is well versed when it came to playing like that..
Warnings: Fools gold gets his own warning. Implied Monster fucking, afab reader, pet names (doll/dollface/slut/ect) Nortons mean guys 😔 He hurts ur boob, the smut is cut off though
You knew what you were getting into. But, at the same time, it was a bit of ganji’s fault as well.
Getting downed at five ciphers was quite embarrassing, and most people wouldn’t even bother with the rescue.. But… then again, you know the feeling all too well. You were relatively close with the batter after all. That being said, you were in no hurry to complete said rescue. After completing your cipher you hurried over to the outside of the dreary hospital where Ganji was currently chaired. It was already above half, so if he were to get chaired once more, he’d be dead, but at least the rescue would give ganji a chance to redeem himself after that unfortunately short kite.
You carefully snuck around the limited structures to block the line of sight of Norton, who was camping the chair. You know Norton would prefer to not swing at all rather than risk accidentally hitting you in the process. As cruel as he may act, he does care for you. He is just a greedier version of his survivor counterpart, whom would give him an aggravatingly long earful if he downed you. Knowing all of this, you still decide to use it against him in situations like this.
And oh, how he loathes you for that.
Quickly, and a bit recklessly, you dashed up to the chair, trying to catch Norton off guard. It worked well enough to successfully get Ganji off the chair, but it you lost all your courage with it. You didn’t have it in you to body block, so you simply planned on going back to decoding duty while Ganji attempted to kite once more.
Well, that’s how you thought it would play out. When you booked it away from the chair you scrambled into the hospital and up the stairs, making your way to the untouched cipher on the second floor, being extra mindful of the gapes in the floor. It wasn’t til you were starting the cipher you heard Ganji call out that the hunter had changed targets. Before you could even register anything, you started hearing your heartbeat in your head, then the next thing you know you’re entrapped between two giant arms attached to an aggravated looking Norton. You shivered at the sudden pressure of the cold wall you’re now pushed up against. A small moan threatened to release from the mere contact with him.
You wanted to come up with some kind of excuse or reason that would soften the blow of the punishment that was soon to be delivered so graciously to you, but the damned hunter hasn’t given you a second to think so far, so why would he now? You bit your lip as his cold, rock constructed hands, traveled up your shirt, sending shivers through your entire body. One of which trailed far up to grip your neck. Not hard enough to hurt you just yet, but enough to make it a bit red.
“What’s wrong, doll face?” His voice was horse and filled with mockery. He felt no pity at your shook up face. “You weren’t this scared when you came up to the chair, huh?” He asked, hot breath tickling your nose. Fearing that you’d only make the situation worse, you decided to stay quiet for now as to save the little words you had before your brain inevitably turns to mush.
“That wasn’t rhetorical, brat.” he spat before roughly tugging at the top of your shirt, ripping the fabric so he could roughly squeeze a handful of your breast. The rock his hands were made out of pierced the plush skin, drawing up blood from the pressure. A mewl escaped your lips, rolling off your tongue as your skin stung from the rocks that threatened to tear through it.
“Please..” the whimper snuck out of your mouth, pleading for him to not only be gentler, but also to spare the cruelties you knew were upon the dark horizon. Norton was a smart man, almost annoyingly so. He knew exactly what you wanted by the glimmer in your eye. That was too fucking bad.
“If you’re gonna wanna come close to enjoying this, you’re gonna have to work for it, slut.” he growled, his guttural voice dropping, just like how his belt did. The sound of the ramshackle zipper echoing through the grey hospital halls. Only thing left to do was pray..
#norton campbell#idv norton#idv#identity v#idv x reader#idv prospector#idv Norton x reader#fools gold#fools gold x reader#fools gold smut#identity v norton#Norton campbell smut#Norton x reader smut
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The Scent of You
Summary: Ari loves the sweet scent of you, which is why he's content to live between your thighs.
Warnings: Smut, Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Begging, Oral Sex (fem rec), Pussy Spanking, Slight Chase Kink, Light D/s themes, Minors DNI
A/N: Written for @curls-and-eyeliner. Hopefully this is okay, ya'll. I'm honestly not sure if it worked the way I intended. Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!
It’s no secret that Ari adores you, but you’ve learned over the course of your relationship that he is particularly fond of the way you smell. Your natural essence of spiced, sugared vanilla draws him in like a moth to a flame.
Which means he was always looking for a reason to touch you – to pull you close and breathe you in. Whether he’s hauling you against his broad chest to bury his nose in your hair while you’re cooking dinner, or he’s busy cascading soft, sweet kisses along the delicate column of your throat when you’re both snuggled up on the couch.
Your scent is like a drug. It calls to him – like a siren’s song – demanding that your handsome Bounty Hunter give in and help himself to his next hit.
This man is hooked on you and it’s honestly one of the most exhilarating things you’ve ever experienced. Growing up, you’d never dreamed someone would desire you like this; that anyone would want you in such an all-consuming way.
“I’m going to burn the chicken if you don’t cut it out.” You hum, smiling when you feel his brawny arms tighten around your waist. “And then we won’t have anything to eat but mashed potatoes and asparagus.”
“Mm. Then maybe we’ll just have to order-in.” His warm lips dance along your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
“Beast.” You try again, intending to issue a light reprimand. Instead your voice comes out soft and breathy.
“You can feed me my dessert while we wait.” Ari’s long, talented fingers travel to the waistband of your pink sleep shorts, lightly tugging at the drawstring. “Just think about it.” You briefly lose your train of thought as you find yourself trying to remember if you were even wearing panties.
You’re pretty sure that you’d neglected to put them on again after your shower. At the time, you’d told yourself that you were trying to save yourself from having to make another trip to Victoria’s Secret.
It wasn’t your fault that your Beast wasn’t always house-trained. He was the kind of man who had a propensity for ripping off your underthings and tucking them into his pocket. Which meant you often had to make adjustments to your wardrobe.
And all of it because the scent of your arousal drove him wild.
Your musings are interrupted when a sudden pop of grease splashes out of the cast iron skillet, just missing both you and your man. “Alright, hands to yourself now, Beast. We’re working around hot oil and I’d feel terrible if you got hurt.”
Jesus H. Christ, you should’ve picked another day to fry this incorrigible man some chicken.
Ari nuzzles his nose in the crook of your neck, gently nipping at your pulse point. “I just need a fix, baby. One little hit and I’ll be good for the rest of the night.”
“Ari…” You blow out an exasperated breath as you reach for your tongs to flip your meat. “You don’t even know if I’ve showered or not today.”
“Don’t care.” He grunts, one big hand reaching into your shorts to possessively cup your increasingly damp pussy. “You know I love how you smell. Almost as much as I love the way you taste.” Ari lips move on to kiss along the shell of your ear. A shudder courses through you when he tugs the sensitive load between his sharp teeth.
“I’m proud to wear my girl.”
Your thighs clench of their own accord, your empty walls clenching around nothing. Apparently your body was just as hungry for him as he was for you.
“Y–you can’t go around just saying things like that.” It comes out as a whimper as your cheeks heat, meanwhile Ari busies himself with grinding the heel of his lightly calloused palm against your already throbbing clit.
“Why not, Duchess? Am I being too crass for you?” He teases as his free hand comes up to knead your breast, squeezing with just the amount of roughness he knew made your knees weak. “Turn that shit off and come feed me. I’ve been dying to get between those thighs all fuckin’ day.”
“But–but…” Your eyes flutter closed even as you reach for the knob that controls the burner, switching it off. Maybe he was right. You hated to waste this, but you could always try again another day.
Preferably on a night when your very persistent Beast was working late.
“There we go. I knew my woman wasn’t the type to let me go hungry.” Ari murmurs, releasing his grip on your now very wet pussy in favor of tugging down your shorts. A growl rumbles deep in his throat as he watches them fall to the ground at your feet. “I knew you couldn’t be that mean.”
“You owe me chicken alfredo from Guiseppe’s, you animal.” You snarl, removing the pan from the heat.
“Consider it done, baby.” You could tell without looking at him that he was obviously pleased with himself.
God this man was an absolute menace. But he was yours, which meant you had to keep him. Hell, you were pretty sure that if you ever tried to put him up for adoption you were pretty sure he’d find his way home.
Back to you. Wherever you were.
Feeling bold, you wiggle out of the Bounty Hunter’s grasp, only to be surprised when he lets you go.
“Bet you can’t catch me.” You challenge, making a sudden dash for the stairs.
Of course you knew he’d catch you. But sometimes you liked running from your Beast – because he was the type to always give chase which would only add spice to the proceedings.
And just like you knew he’d be, your Bounty Hunter is on you before you reach the fourth step. A scream escapes you – but you both know it’s one of excitement. After all, Ari Levinson was every inch the predator. It’s why you lovingly referred to him as “your Beast”.
“Gotcha now, Duchess.” He hisses, a heady mix of exhilaration and pride coursing through his veins. And that’s when you finally notice the impressive tent hidden beneath the fabric of his light gray sweats.
God, you had a feeling this man was gonna wreck you tonight. You just hoped you’d be able to walk in a straight line come tomorrow morning.
Ari takes that moment to flip you over before gently maneuvering your body in such a way that allows you to slide down a couple of steps.
“Yeah, you caught me.” You breathe, your body aching for him. And then you part your thighs, feeling more than a little empowered when you notice the way his imperious gaze darkens with lust at the sight of your glistening cunt. “Now…what are you going to do with me?”
Grabbing the edge of your nightshirt, you slowly pull it over your head, baring your breasts. If this man wanted you and was so willing to *ruin* your dinner for it, then who were you to deny him?
Immediately, Ari buries his face between your slick covered thighs, his powerful hands coming up to quickly throw your legs over his muscled shoulders. A deep, satisfied groan of appreciation escapes his throat as he sucks your pulsing clit into his warm, waiting mouth.
“Holy shit!” You cry, burying your hands in his soft, chestnut strands. “Sir, please!” Your body begins to tremble as you’re treated to the most sensual of assaults.
One thick finger gently prods at your entrance, seeking refuge in your slippery cunt. At the same time, you feel Ari release your sensitive bundle of nerves, content to lap at it with his wicked tongue.
“That's it now. Fuckin' drench me, Bird.” He orders softly, his voice coming out slightly muffled.
And then pauses he pauses again – this time to nuzzle his nose against your slippery folds. Your entire body quivers when he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent and reveling in your wetness.
“My fuckin’ pussy.” Ari snarls, his flat tongue dragging a long, greedy swipe along your cunt. “Mine.” He pulls away long enough to slap your core in silent demand.
“Fuck yes!” You agree, eagerly rocking your hips in time with each delicious lash of his tongue. He swirls it over your little bundle of nerves, making your toes curl.
“Would wear you all day if you’d let me.” His nimble fingers begin to work you over, stretching you in the way he knew would make you crazy. “Proud to wear my girl.”
“Omigosh!Omigosh!Omigosh!” You wail, your velvety walls clenching around his fingers as he pumps them in and out of you.
“Promise to always feed me when I need it, little Bird.” You feel his teeth lightly graze your clit once more, loving the way it makes you thrash and moan.
That’s right. This man was breaking you down on your living room stairs. And it was so good that you couldn’t even be bothered to make yourself give a proper fuck.
Dear God, this was the most exquisite kind of pleasure.
“Don’t you dare let me starve.” His fingers curve inside you, expertly finding your spot.
Holy fucking shit your man was making one hell of compelling argument, as evidenced by sweet cries and your shaking legs.
“Never.” Your thighs tighten around his head, threatening to smother him even as you gush around him.
Just the way you knew he fucking loved.
“There we go -- yeah, that’s it.” Ari rasps, smacking your right flank, reveling in the way you clench around him as you continue to ride his face. Meanwhile, you’re busy writhing in your man’s arms, trying not to escape his grasp as that familiar coil of pleasure begins to tighten in your belly.
You know he knows you’re close. So he picks up his pace, clearly enjoying the way you’re coming apart under his feral loving.
“I just need one good one from you – just one good one to start. And then I’m gonna give you my cock.” He increases the pace of his fingers, not missing the way your head is thrown back in complete submission. “And after that, I’ll order you dinner.”
“Fuck, Beast!” You pant, your eyes rolling in the back of your head. "Whatever you fucking say - ooh!" Your open palm slaps against the wall as you try to run. But his grip is too strong.
Instead he simply chuckles before pausing his feast long enough to press one hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh - his teeth scraping over your damp flesh as he takes you higher and higher.
“And while we wait, I’m gonna go ahead feed you my cock.” He quips with a feral flash of teeth. “And don’t worry, I’ll make sure you eat every bite.”
END
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Steamy Rescues
Sorry, I'm just thinking about hot men saving my life today. Let me drool in peace
Warnings: suggestive stuff, delicious men
Naib
Your time in the chair was nearly up when Naib suddenly slammed into it at full speed. One second you were struggling against your restraints, cursing and consumed with desperate thoughts of freedom, and the next his hands were next to your head. Initially you fell silent because you were startled, but that quickly melted into a perverted sort of awe as you looked over the mercenary.
He was looming over you, muscles tense, toiled taut like a spring. His tight shirt was torn open like he’d been caught by the collar and wrenched himself free, leaving a teasing view of his sweaty, scarred, heaving chest. Some of his hair had slipped free of his hair band and clung to his damp face and neck. He was out of breath too, each exhale fanning down on you, panting less like a rescuer and more like a predator who’s cornered his prey. There was a certain musk wafting off of him…it was a bit maddening.
“I know, I know,” Naib said quickly. “You can tell me I look like shit later. We’ve got to GO.” He grabbed the bar pinning your torso to the chair and, with a flex of his biceps and feral grunt, ripped it off you.
“I’ll tell you something alright,” you gasp quietly, briefly wondering if your nose was bleeding.
Naib seemed to pay no mind to your mutterings. The last cipher popped, and the siren blaring in the distance gave you both a rush of adrenaline that overrode any lingering pain. Taking that que, Naib grabbed your wrist and all but dragged you sprinting to the gate.
When you were home free, though, he held your gaze daringly and asked, “So what did you want to tell me?”
Andrew
You had heard the disturbance of dirt nearby, but were too preoccupied with struggling to notice the source. The next second, Andrew’s dirty blonde hair (literally) popped out of the ground between your legs. He was already cursing under his breath, and shaking, just a bit. You vaguely remember hearing about Andrew being claustrophobic…. But those thoughts are washed away when he roughly grabs your thighs for support and you realize the exact position you’re in.
He had emerged a little too close to the chair and was having trouble getting out without sliding his body up against yours. The chair wobbled forward a little, hanging you over him, as one of the feet dangled into the hole he’d left in the dirt. He grabbed your caged forearms next, managing to haul himself out enough to be level with your chest.
“Can’t you help me?” he hissed, face flush with embarrassment at his predicament.
“I’m a little preoccupied,” you snap back, thankfully still having sense enough for it. Andrew clicks his tongue, hangs his head in what’s probably supposed to be shame…but his mop of hair hides his face and most of your lap from view, bringing even mor lewd thoughts to mind. “Y-you know, I’m kind of on a time crunch here!”
“Shut up, I know!” Andrew shouts. As soon as it’s out he clenches his teeth and looks over his shoulder for the Hunter, and without bothering to climb out of his hole starts fumbling with your restraints. When you pop free, the angle and weight of him clinging to you throws you both to the ground, your chest right on his face.
He screeched like a schoolgirl, but his tomato-red face was endearing enough to override most of the fear you felt for the remainder of the match.
Luchino
Though no one called him such, Luchino was a healer in his own right.
His skilled hands had patched you up twice already this match, and though the pain from Michiko’s cuts lingered, you could hardly complain when you thought about how Luchino had loomed over you. He was a polite man, but no-nonsense. Whenever you appeared at his cipher, alone and bleeding, he shoved you to your knees beneath him and got right to work. You couldn’t say if it was the adrenalin, but you were acutely aware of the heat radiating off his body the whole time. Of the gentle ghosting of his claws on your back, making you shiver. When he tied the bandages tight—too tight, almost, but he said that’s how they’re supposed to be—he grunted and huffed in your ear.
“All done,” he said, smirking. “Take these, too.” Luchino straightened up, but instead of returning to his cipher he applied some of that mystery serum to his forearm—his sleeves rolled up deliciously—and peeled away a hard patch of scales. You were too entranced by the oil-slick glisten it left on his skin to question why he was handing them to you.
Before you could stand, a butterfly alighted on your shoulder. Luchino reacted incredibly quickly; you blinked and he was hunched over you again, arms caging you fully to his chest. A sound like cracking glass met your ears the same time as his displeased hiss. Before you could ask, he grabbed you by the waist and threw you into a forward sprint, ordering “Go!”
#idv x reader#identity v#luchino diruse x reader#naib subedar x reader#andrew kreiss x reader#idv gravekeeper#idv professor#idv mercenary#turbulentscrawl
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