#slowly but surely getting over my fear of drawing legs

[starboye]

starring: nerdy!matt sturniolo x male reader

request: matt helping you study (or at least trying to) and you're to horny to even focus so you tease matt the whole time

warnings: smut, cursing, teasing, edging, blow job, nerdy!matt

"c'mon matt you got this just read the paragraph" you coo as if you didn't have your hand wrapped around his cock slowly pumping away, he offered to help you study for your upcoming test but this isn't what he meant, but maybe it was his fault for agreeing to study while laying in bed knowing you would very well do this to him "ngh please y/n we have to study" matt whimpered, his thighs twitching with each slight move of your hand, i mean how could matt be so dumb to think you would actually call him over just to study.

"don't worry about me i'll ace the test because i have my very smart boyfriend to help me study, right" you tease rubbing you thumb across his aching leaky tip "i mean how would i ever do anything with out you helping me" you says kissing his cheek and moving down to lay small kisses on his neck "please" matt whispers "m'gonna need you to speak up matty" you taunt him and now he's not sure how much more of this torture he can take before he blows "ple- mm fuck y/n... please suck me" matt lowly repeats.

"happily" you quickly kiss him before your traveling down and getting comfy in between his legs, you fully take off his underwear and pants and lick his tip, flicking the beads of pre cum onto your tongue "mmm you taste so good matt" you smile before you start slapping his dick onto your tongue, matt by now has thrown the book somewhere onto the bed and as much as he didn't want to bring his eyes to your, fearful of the effect it might have on him he couldn't stop looking at you.

you sunk your mouth onto his twitchy dick and bobbing your head up and down, matts hands flew to grip the sheets of your bed tightly, watching your actions through fluttering eyelashes "fuckkk" matt let out broken guttural moans that sounded like he was on the edge of cumming but you quickly pull off his dick, jerking him off to make up for the loss of your mouth "i cant have you cumming that quick now can i" you tease even more, your hand moving at an agonizingly slow pace that left him just on the edge but never cumming.

"fuck y/n... please i wanna cum" matt whines, thighs twitchy to the touch of your hand "i know but you can hold it for just a little longer" you say leaning down to kiss his thighs, one hand moving to fondle his balls a little "mm mm" he shakes his head, biting down on his lip to silence his moan, he was thanking god that you're family wasn't home right now to hear him and his whiny noises.

you wanted to draw this out for longer, edge him on again and again just to ruin it but his cute face scrunching with each of you teasing moves made you take pity on him, you sink your mouth back onto his cock and resume bobbing your head up and down till matt was writhing uncontrollably in his place before cumming in your mouth, loud whimpers flood from his mouth just as his cum floods your mouth.

you bring your head up and wipe your mouth of the arousal before crawling towards his dazed face and kissing him, you lay flat on his huffing chest "we should study together more often" you say snuggling into him "ye... yeah definitely" matt says finally coming back to his senses "did you really study for that test though" matt asks now rubbing you back "nope" you say unbothered making matt roll his eyes.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09@kadenvatsune@fuckshft

[temporary-tats]

A ko-fi request for a Bumbleby wedding outfits design! Thank you for the support! <3 This was an incredibly fun prompt! I pulled a bit of inspiration from Beauty and the Beast for their outfits, while putting a Bees spin on it. I absolutely adore how this one turned out.

As usual, do not reupload without credit/permission. Thank you folks!

(My Ko-fi, should you wish!)

[initialchains]

would you? | luke castellan.

pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader

summary: luke slowly starts to lose himself but that won’t stop you from reminding him of what truly matters.

wc: 2.6k

warnings: some manipulating and gaslighting if you squint and probably spoilers for the first book but they’re not explicitly mentioned.

a/n: HAPPY HOLIDAYS !! here’s luke as a gift <33 i’ve never written for luke before but he’s my favorite pjo character bc hes such an interesting and complex character aghh. sorry if this isnt as fluffy as you would all want, i promise i’m working on some real luke fluff.

The rays of the rising sun made the lake look far more beautiful than it always does. Sure, you were used to the warm tones that always engulfed Camp Half-Blood and it’s not like the weather ever really changed, at least not unless the gods willed it to, but the colors of the sun reflecting on the lake, the low hum of the wood nymphs singing, and the distant sounds of laughter coming from campers playing volleyball were strangely comforting. 

Well, as comforting as it can be when you’re trying to find some quiet in the neverending fight that was the demigod life. It gets tiring, it always does. The fighting, the studying, the adoration of gods who didn’t even bother to give their children a sign of them caring. It was all so exhausting. 

But there was peace in this small moment. You were sat in front of the lake, your legs crossed as you closed your eyes, trying to enjoy the tranquility of it all. The calm moment didn’t dare to stop your hand from finding a home in the clay beads of your camp necklace and twirling them around, a seemingly normal act to anyone who saw you, that actually was a sign of you being aware of your surroundings, a small sign of the fear you carried around, a fear that had you always prepared to draw your sword in any given moment. Not ever fully in peace. Not unless Luke was there. 

“So you decided to start your morning without me? Ouch,” You turned your head at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice, “A knock on my cabin’s door would’ve been enough, you know?”.

“Yeah? And risk waking the million campers that sleep in there? No, thank you. I would like to stay alive for a few more years, please.” You replied with a small smile, looking up to meet Luke’s eyes, his scar being more prominent in the morning, a red color adorning the edges of it.  

He snorted a laugh and rolled his eyes before taking a seat next to you. He was silent for a moment until he muttered softly, “This is a nice view.”

“Oh, definitely. The lake always looks beautiful when the sun hits it the right way. I need to give the Apollo cabin their congratulations and some flowers for having a talented father.” You answered, your hand moving away from your necklace to hold Luke’s.

“Of course, you make my pick-up line about the gods. Can you give me a win over here? I’m trying my best.” He said with a smirk before pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. It was a strange sort of thing he always did, even before you two started dating, he’d always find an excuse to hold your hand and give it a quick kiss. 

“I wasn’t going to let you get away with using a corny pick-up line on me, Castellan. At least be original with it.” A giggle escaped your lips, “Also, everything is about the gods, I thought you’d be used to it by this point.”

His face fell for a fleeting second, but he was quick to mask it with a small smile. “Right, everything always is about the gods.” Luke’s eyes moved away from your face, nervously glancing at the lake after his statement. 

You frowned when you heard the tone he used, he sounded almost.. bitter? You couldn’t even explain it. Luke had been acting weird ever since the camp came back from their annual visit to Mount Olympus on the winter solstice. At first, you thought it had something to do with Hermes being a total dick and ignoring him the entire night, not even bothering to give his son a pat on the back or a nod. But you’ve known Luke long enough to know he was past caring about what his father did, he was indifferent to what Hermes did–to what any of the gods did. 

The two of you were silent, sitting side by side in front of the lake in deep thought. He was thinking about gods know what, and you were busy trying to understand what was going on inside his mind. You decided to break the silence first, “You okay?”.

“I’m fine, baby. Don’t worry about it.” 

He was quick to answer. It was almost as if he had rehearsed it and had it scripted beforehand. It was almost as if someone else had told him what to answer. As if he was under someone else's guidance. Under someone else's control. 

“Are you sure? Because it feels like you’re.. I don't know, keeping something from me?” 

“I’m not keeping anything from you. I’m not keeping a single thing.”

“Right. Sorry for asking.”

Luke closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. He ran a hand through his hair and took some deep breaths, his chest moving up and down in a nonexistent rhythm, it was urgent and angry. He took a few more breaths, trying to calm himself before finally meeting your eyes again. 

“I’ve told you countless times to never apologize to me if you haven’t done anything wrong,” He reminded you of the conversation you’ve had millions of times, “Don’t ever apologize to me if you haven’t physically hurt me or something, alright? You’re fine. We’re fine.” 

He continued, “I’d trust you with my life given the chance. I’m not keeping anything from you, angel. You have to trust me.” 

“I do.” 

You didn’t see your boyfriend at all the following days. He always brushed you off by being busy with training or helping Annabeth plan for this week’s capture the flag. You weren’t the only one to notice his slight change of temper and personality, some campers from the Hermes cabin noticed it too. 

He kept pushing harder on his siblings, always insisting on them doing better. He was more violent than usual during capture the flag, not thinking about it twice before proving why he is the most talented swordsman in the last 300 years.

There was also this one time he volunteered to spar with a new camper.. it didn’t go well. He kept doing new maneuvers and techniques most campers didn’t even recognize, refusing to go easy on the poor thirteen year old girl. When you asked him about it, confused at the way he went too hard on the newbie, he answered with a dry “Where’s the glory in that? She needs to be prepared for what’s about to come.” It sounded as if he knew some kind of danger was approaching. As if it was a matter of life and death for the camper to learn how to fight against him.

You decided it was enough when you saw him skipping his daily chat with Annabeth, deciding he would rather sit by himself on the steps of the Big House for a little while. 

The walk from your cabin to the Big House was filled with self-doubt and twirling the beads of your necklace, you were nervous to face your boyfriend, which was stupid because he was the last person you’d ever expect to feel nervous with. When you arrived to the steps of the Big House and saw him sitting there, your mind went completely blank. 

You sat next to him and asked the first thing that came to your mind, “Would you rather fight 3000 ant-sized chimeras or a chimera-sized ant?”. 

An amused laugh bubbled up from Luke’s chest before he turned his head to face you, a smile taking over his handsome face. “I’ll take the 3000 chimeras, no doubt.” 

You smiled back at him, ready to ask him the question you spent the last thirty minutes planning, but before you could open your mouth he said, “Would you rather not be able to consume ambrosia and nectar for the rest of your life or.. see Mr. D without a shirt?”

You threw your head back with laughter, your face going red thanks to the lack of air in your lungs due to the laughs coming out of you, “I’d rather bleed to death without ambrosia than see Mr. D with a shirt.”

“Ditto.”

You decided to indulge in this back-and-forth game, after all, you hadn’t been able to have a real conversation with your boyfriend in days... you’ll take what you can get, “Would you rather not be able to leave camp ever again or turn against the gods?” 

“It would be boring to spend the rest of my life capturing a flag and growing strawberries… so I guess my answer is pretty obvious.” He answered while fidgeting with his fingers.

“You’d choose to turn against the gods?”

“Yup.”

“Huh, I guess capture the flag would be pretty hard when you’re pushing 90.”

Luke was silent, running his eyes through your face before asking, “Would you?”

“Would I what?”

He took a deep breath before replying, “Turn against the gods.”

You were silent for a few seconds, biting your lip and staring into Luke’s eyes, wondering if there was a right answer to this metaphorical question. You decided to give him an answer he’d like but also an answer you meant, “I’d go wherever you go. It doesn’t matter if it is a farm in the middle of nowhere or to the pits of Tartarus. If you’re there... count me in.” 

Luke cleared his throat and a serious look took over his face, “Sure, but if the time to make a choice came… would you go against them?”.

His persistence to try and get you to answer his question was making you nervous. The more he asked you about it, the more it looked like he was genuinely considering it. 

A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you nervously played with one of the beads on your camp necklace. He took notice of it. Of course he did, he knew more about you than anyone, probably even more than you know yourself. 

Luke stayed silent at that, a somber look taking over his features, you could tell there was a turmoil happening inside his head. It was almost as if he wanted to let you in on a secret, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

“I... um. Well, I don’t think that’s happening anytime soon—at least not in our lifetime. But like I said, I’d go wherever you go, to Tartarus and back.” 

That brought a smile to Luke’s face, he looked into your eyes, probably looking for signs of you lying but finding none, and took your hand away from your necklace, lacing your fingers with his and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “To Tartarus and back, baby.” 

He brought your hands down before leaning in to kiss you on the lips. There was a sense of necessity to feel your lips against his, he kissed you like the feeling of your lips was his only shot at salvation. He raised his hand to cup your cheek and deepen the kiss, craving the heat he only got whenever he kissed you.

You stopped him before he could take the kiss any further, “Luke, we’re in the middle of camp. There are children around us, if you want to make out at least take me to our spot behind the stables. Holy shit.”

Luke took a second to steady his breathing, “Sorry, angel. I’ll make sure to keep your suggestion in mind for later, though.”

“Shut the hell up, Castellan.”

The two of you spent the rest of your day being busy working on your own stuff. Luke was still sparring with some campers who were brave enough to go against him, and you were hanging out with the Dionysus cabin while they helped grow more strawberries. 

 You found Chris sitting in the amphitheater and asked him if he had seen your boyfriend, he replied with an annoyed, “He’s probably in bed or something, I don’t know.” You decided to not ask Chris if he was okay and walked straight to the Hermes cabin.

A knock on the wooden door was enough to wake your boyfriend up, you were aware of it when you heard a muffled, “Come in”. You found Luke sitting on his bed, his sword in hand while he sharpened it.

So he wasn’t asleep at all, you thought.

“Careful with the sharp part of the blade.” He looked up from his sword when he heard your melodic voice, your words snapping him out of the trance he was in.

“Oh, hi.” Luke put the sword down next to his bunk and moved to lie down, leaving a space next to him for you to join him. He hummed when you laid down next to him, giving a kiss to his shoulder blade and wrapping your arms around his torso. 

He turned to face you, pressing his lips to your forehead with a soft sigh. His eyes closed at the sensation while his hands traveled to your back, looking for ways to hold you closer. His features relaxing when he finally touched your skin. 

You couldn’t keep this weird tension going on between you two, so you decided to bite first, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Once again, he replied in an almost scripted and mechanical way, “Talk about what?”

“The winter solstice visit, you’ve been acting.. different ever since we came back to camp.” 

Luke stiffened next to you, it made your heart drop. You’ve been dating him for a year now, and he had never been this cold—this uncomfortable around you. 

“I just... I think things are about to change.” He replied in a low murmur, his eyes closing again when you brought your hand up to caress his face, softly tracing his scar with your thumb in a delicate and loving way. Luke let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding when he felt your fingers on his skin.

A smirk made its way to your face, “Change? yeah, in your dreams, Castellan. Campers will keep arriving and only 5 percent of them will get claimed, and the others will get thrown into your cabin.. like things always are and always will be. That’s not changing anytime soon.” 

Luke’s hand traced up and down your back in a soothing manner, “Yeah, maybe they won’t. Forget I even said that.” 

“Just because they won’t change, it doesn’t mean we have to accept it, you know?”Luke's eyes snapped up from your hands to meet your gaze, his brows furrowed in confusion. 

“I’m sorry?”

“We’re all on the same team here. Sure, the gods will never claim most of the campers and we will all probably die before we’re old enough to have children of our own... but is that really all that matters? We have each other. We don’t need them as long as we have the people we love with us.”

Luke tilted his head to the right to press a kiss to the palm of your hand that was caressing his cheek, “I don’t need the gods as long as I have you.” 

“Good to know we’re on the same page, Castellan.”

The two of you went out for a small walk by the lake and sat together in the dining pavilion at night. Your small conversation probably made Luke feel better because he was quick to go back to being himself, he kept greeting every camper he saw and holding your hand, not forgetting to kiss the back of it whenever he had the chance. 

Maybe it was you reassuring him about the love you had for him or maybe it was him being aware of you being willing to drop the gods at any time just to be with him, but he was completely normal during the following days, weeks, and months.

You were sure of it when you saw him walking around with the new arrival five months later, Luke seemed so excited to be showing him around. You greeted the new camper with a small smile when he introduced himself with a “Hi, I’m Percy Jackson.”

[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt: You are blissfully unaware of how deep exactly Rook and Vil's affections run for you; of the extents they would go for you, and the boundaries they would cross in your name.

Pairing: Yan!Vil x Reader x Yan!Rook

Genre: Yandere

TW: Yandere Vil and Rook, talk of killing someone, Reader is not Yuu/Prefect.

AN: Rook and Vil ily but why are you both so hard to write for 😭 Like, yall are fun to think for but it was so hard to write down the concept in my mind ysgshskejd. I genuinely don't know if I was able to do them justice, please forgive me if they're a bit ooc in this. This started off as a joke thing because of a friend, but then it turned yandere for some reason that I don't know but we're vibing so it's okay ^^

You groaned as you flopped face first onto the couch in Vil's room, uncaring of the fact that you were still wearing your shoes. Vil glanced at you from the corner of his eyes as he sat at his vanity, narrowing his gaze at your unmoving form.

"(Name), remove your shoes."

" 'm too tired," you grumbled, and Rook chuckled from his place on Vil's bed. "My, my Chevalier de Beauté, how bold of you to reject Roi du Poison's order," he teased you, getting up from the bed to walk over to where you were.

" 'm tired," you whined once again, drawing out a chuckle from both of your boyfriends.

"Still, as Roi du Poison's devoted hunter, I cannot let you get away with such a grave crime," he hummed, his voice light and sweet to your ears. Kneeling on one leg, Rook carefully untied your shoelaces, gently placing your shoes on the floor by the couch. Each movement was smooth and reverent; one would think he was handling a priceless treasure with the way he made sure to not make a single noise as he rid you of your shoes.

He watched in amusement as your only reaction was to sigh and turn your head slightly to look at him. Ever watchful, he immediately zeroed in on the eyebags that you had tried to conceal under layers of makeup. Rook removed the glove from one of his hands, raising it to smooth back your hair into a somewhat presentable state.

"Pray tell, what has you so stressed?" He asked, and you could see Vil sit straighter (if that was even possible since his posture was always impeccable) at his words, no doubt listening to the two of you.

"Its nothing too bad, really. I'm just stuck with uncooperative assholes in Professor Crewel's class-"

"Language," Vill gently chided, but you could make out the concern in his voice. You continued speaking, eventually fully ranting to Rook and Vil about how absolutely bull-headed and uncooperative your group members were, and how you were practically the only one working on the project.

Both the boys stayed quiet as they heard you vent your frustrations out to them. Once you were done, Rook gave you a smile. His eyes held a dangerous light, sharp gaze befitting the hunter he prided himself in being.

"Would you like me to kill them for you?"

You felt a shiver run down your spine at his tone, the familiar smile on his face somehow turning malicious in front of your very eyes. Very slowly, like prey trying to not agitate the predator in their bid to escape, you silently sat up on the couch. Your eyes were trained on his, caution and hesitancy swirling in them (a very pretty mixture, if you asked Rook; what he wouldn't give to see that look of confusion and fear in your eyes more often-)

"No killing, Rook," Vil spoke from his seat in front of the mirror, turning completely to face the two of you. Immediately, Rook turned back into the playful boy you always knew, as he chuckled, "Ah, I jest, of course." He winked at you, and you wondered if your senses had played a trick on you as the heavy atmosphere that had been in the room mere moments ago dissipated instantly.

"Perhaps I could speak to these classmates of yours, hm?"

"O-oh, there's no need for that," you nervously chuckled. "I already informed Professor Crewel about it, and he said he'll give them a fitting punishment," you hurriedly explained. Your fingers fiddled with the cuffs of your blazer, a clear sign of your discomfort at the thought of Rook potentially talking to the people from your group. As irritating as they were, you didn't really want to get them on his (or for that matter, anyone's) bad side, especially with how... weird and quite frankly terrifying Rook had been earlier.

Your nervousness did not go unnoticed, as Vil chuckled, crossing his arms elegantly as he looked at the two of you. "Rook, you've scared them."

Vil stood up from his seat, making his way over to you. Carefully, he lifted your face to make you meet his eyes and smiled. "Rook was only joking, my dear. Don't worry." The gentle touch sent butterflies fluttering through your stomach, and the soft smile complementing his words made your earlier worries go away.

Rook looked at you, a mix of surprise and amusement in his eyes as he took your hand in his own. "Ah, dear Chevalier de Beauté, you need not worry at all," he said as he placed a light kiss on the back of your hand.

"You are precious to me, so I cannot help but wish to take care of anything that may displease you. But, my apologies if I went too far with my joke."

His voice was sincere as he spoke, and you couldn't help but smile at him despite his... slightly concerning words. Rook was a weirdo most of the time. Maybe it was just a well-intended joke that you just overthought about?

You chuckled, missing the way Vil's shoulders seemed to relax and how Rook's smile became a little less forced.

"It's alright Rook."

"You nearly gave us away, Rook."

Vil's voice was uncharacteristically cold as he stared down at the hunter kneeling in front of him. You had gone back to your own dorm room some time ago, saying that you needed to finish one of Professor Trein's assignments, giving the two boys some much needed privacy to have this conversation.

"My sincere apologies Roi du Poison. I did not mean to, but to see their beautiful face contorted in such anger, such frustration... it caught me off guard. I was careless in my wish to take away some of their burden, and I shall accept any punishment you deem acceptable, my fair queen," Rook said, his voice repentant as he stared at the hem of Vil's dorm clothes.

Vil sighed after a long and tense silence. How could he remain cross with his beloved hunter any longer, when he was this remorseful? Besides, Vil had been quick enough to salvage the situation in time, and you were still blissfully unaware of how deep exactly their affections ran for you; of the extents they would go for you, and the boundaries they would cross in your name.

"Get up," he ordered, and the hunter rose to his feet, finally daring to look his queen in the eyes. "Go, and find every little thing there is to find about those useless students. Every. Single. Thing. But do not, touch a hair on their heads. That will be your punishment."

Vil's voice was calm and collected, like a queen delivering a death sentence. Rook bowed reverently.

"As you wish, my dear queen."

[hotyanderedaddies]

Yandere drider x male butterfly reader. I don't see those often and it's mostly fem reader

Yandere Drider Captures You in His Web

[Yandere! Drider x M! Butterfly Reader]

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

You were flying around in the warm Spring air, enjoying the feeling of the sunbeams warming up your large, golden wings.

All of the flowers were starting to bloom, and you were looking forward to feasting on their sweet nectar. You were in awe at the sights and smells of the luscious violets, rhododendrons, and the bright red roses.

It was the roses that captured your attention the most, and you couldn't help but flutter closer to the pristine flowers, eager to taste its sweetness--

"Fuck!" you cried out as soon as you felt your beautiful wings get tangled up in something sticky that held you in place, refusing to let you go.

Out of instinct, you tried to thrash your delicate body all around, desperate to free yourself from whatever held you close-- but it was no use. No matter how hard you struggled, you couldn't get loose. In fact, it almost felt as if whatever held you was getting stronger by the second.

Your frantic eyes darted around, trying to see what held you. As soon as you saw the white, rope-like structure that held you, your heart dropped.

A spider web.

You were stuck in a spider web that was created right in front of the largest red rose in the garden that you were flying around in.

What a horrendous trap!

You tried in vain to free yourself some more, your beautiful wings completely restrained by the sticky web.

"Don't struggle too hard, Darling," a deep voice echoed out, making you freeze.

Your heat racing like crazy, you looked upwards and nearly screamed out in fear at the large drider who studied you as you were stuck in his web.

The drider's long eight legs slowly maneuvered him downwards, towards you. His eyes focused in on your terrified face, and when he smiled, you got a full view of his massive, sharp fangs that would tear through your flesh with ease.

Despite your panic, the drider's smile only grew larger as he descended, drawing closer and closer to you.

"Oh, such a pretty little butterfly that I caught in my web," the drider mused, stopping right beside you. He walked on the sticky web with ease, moving without a problem as you struggled.

He reached out with one of his claws, running the soft hand over your trembling cheek. His skin was hot to the touch, and when he touched you, you swore his smile grew in size.

"You're so pretty," the drider mused, unable to take his eyes off you.

You struggled to free yourself some more, but it was futile. You couldn't move a muscle while trapped in the web, your large wings trying to beat rapidly; but all that did was get them tangled up even more.

"I can't believe that I caught something as pretty as you in my homey, little web," the drider continued, his tongue flicking out over his bottom lip.

All you could focus on were the large fangs in the drider's mouth, and when he saw your frightened expression, the drider frowned.

"Oh Darling," he cooed gently, running another hand along your cheek in a way that was meant to be comforting, "I don't know if you know this, but some driders, such as myself, don't capture cute butterflies in our webs to eat..."

He leaned in closer, pressing his warm lips to your clammy forehead.

"...but we catch you to make you ours, forever."

"Wh-what?" you barely breathed, unsure if you'd heard the drider correctly. "What do you mean?"

The drider chuckled and began to toy with the webs some more, stretching them out over your trapped body to wrap you up into a tighter, silk cocoon. He made sure that your limbs were secured in the web at your sides, making it easier for him to lift you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he carried you over to the rose bush. Near the bottom was a little crevice that formed a tiny den that would hide the two of you away from the rest of the world.

"What I mean, my Darling," the drider clarified as he dragged you into his den, "is that you're not my food, but you're my love, my darling, mine.

And only mine."

·゜·:.。..。.:·☆·゜·:.。..。.:·☆

A/N: Sorry if this one wasn't that good or accurate. I've never heard of a drider before... and I am terrified of spiders lol.

[enviedear]

omg maybe some fluff/angst abt billy being protective. like maybe gf/wife!reader is getting hit on and she can normally protect herself but maybe some guy gets a little too handsy with her and then billy steps in to protect his baby:(( i think i would actually die

protective!billy bonney...

babe i'm always down for protective!billy, because he's just intrinsically protective. and that's hot.

tw— violence, a bullet graze (not billy or reader), men being mysogonistic (this is the wild west idk what to tell ya), unwanted touch (on the waist, no private areas)

request

it'd been a long day already, and the sun hadn't even struck noon. rowdy ranch hands, drunkards, and gang members littered the town square. their minds hazy from drink, worsened by the hot sun.

it was a day of celebration, according to them. the lot of them managed to wrangle up a pack of wild coyotes the night before, the same pack that'd been laying waste to everyone's animals and supplies.

it was a gruesome yet necessary job, but the parlay in town has your ears steaming. they've already ruined an innocent game of catch the local kids had been playing and you roll your eyes when they start to approach you and the rest of the ladies standing outside the dress shop.

you avert your gaze, looking into the crowd for your fiancee. with no sight of billy, who's probably held up at the general store, you focus in on your dusty boots. you'd rather stare at them than the haughty men on their rampage.

"ain't you billy's little thing?" a gruff voice calls out.

you lift your head to find a impish man with tufts of blonde hair, "yes sir, that'd be me." your tone is kind, but your words clipped.

the man draws closer, spitting to his left before giving you a drunken snd sly smirk, "got himself a pretty one, ain't he?"

his question is redundant, and you opt not to answer. instead you give him a smile, slowly backing away and inching toward the entrance of the shop.

the women around you won't be any help, too worried with fending off the other rambunctious men. you're going to have to get yourself out of this one.

the man continues his pursuit of you, "gimme your name, girl. m'bettin' it's real nice."

your fingers find the doorknob behind you but your eyes widen when the door refuses to budge. damn shopkeeper, locking up when you need a safe haven most.

"i'm sorry, sir, my fiancee must be looking for me." your excuse is lame, but you pray it works.

the man steps closer, his hand reaching out to grab your arm. you flinch away, but he manages to grip you tightly anyway.

"come on now, don't be shy," he slurs, pulling you towards him. "what's your name, pretty thing?"

you struggle against his grip, but he's too strong. panic sets in as you realize there's no one around to help you, and you start to fear the worst.

"you need to let go o'me. my fiancee will kill you." you've grown desperate, enough so to lay your strongest card on the table— billy.

the man let out a hearty laugh, "fiancee? ain't no man gonna tie you down, little lady. not till you've had a taste of a real man."

you grow angrier by the second, but you can't help but laugh at his ignorance, "i think that's you giving yourself too much credit, sir," you reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm, "i' got myself a real man, the man i love. now if you don't let me go, you'll be sorry."

the man grows more forceful, pinning you to him, breath brushing your ear and hands groping your waist, "do you well to learn to shut you mouth, girl."

but just as you're about to give up hope, frozen in fear as the man trails his hands over you, a gunshot rings out, piercing the air like a sharp knife.

the man releases you, his face contorting in pain as he clutches at his leg. you inspect the wound as he falls away, just a graze, but you're sure it hurts like hell.

you turn away from the drunk, eyes finiding billy only yards away, his revolver still smoking in his hand. his face is cold and hard, his eyes blazing with anger.

"you heard the lady," billy speaks with a low and menacing voice. "i don't want to kill you, but if i so much as see you touch her again, you'll regret it."

the other men back away, pulling their injured friend with them, fear written all over their faces. they know better than to mess with billy, especially when he's in a foul mood.

you rush towards him, throwing your arms around his neck. his embrace is tight and fierce, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

"you okay?" he asks, his voice softening as he looks down at you.

you nod, voice shakey, "i am now," you whisper, feeling safe in his arms.

together, you walk away from the chaos of the town square, grateful for the love and protection you've found in each other.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

[thewritetofreespeech]

Anything is Possible

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Summary: with Jaehaerys gone, you & Aemond make plans more than just battle plans and strategies. [sort of a part ii to my previous scenario X. based on the series, not the books, so don't come at me]

-----------------------------⚔️----------------------------------

“You need to be careful.”

“I am always careful.”

You frown at your husband as he looked at you from over his shoulder. That cheeky grin. That look in his eye. All of it letting you know he was planning something not even remotely close to careful.

“You know what I mean. We’ve already lost enough. It will break us if we lose you too.”

Aemond scoffed and returned to his papers & drawings. “Hardly. I am no heir. I could disappear come morrow, and no one would even wonder where I went off to. So long as I didn’t disappear off Vhagar.”

“It would break me then.” You told him. Coming up to his side to lean against his desk. One facing east and one facing west so you could look at one another.

Aemond scoffed again, only this time out of amusement rather than disgust. “You’re a better person than most.”

“And, technically, you are the heir.”

Your prince’s back straightened a little. His good eye flashing towards your for a second to let you know he had thought of that too. It had been several weeks since Jaehaerys assassination. Though you all still wept and grieved, kingdoms could not wait for those to recover. All of you must think toward the future. “So you need to be more careful.”

“Aegon will have other sons.”

“Hmm…perhaps.” You slide over on the desk, directly in front of Aemond, before properly sitting on it. Your legs hanging loose about either side of his lean frame. “I’m sure he’ll have a slew more sons. More bastards for the crown to feed. Unless Helaena recovers.” The death of her son had taken a toll on the crown’s sweet sister, to put it gently. Her grief was driving her slowly to madness. Coupled with the fact that she never seemed to like it when Aegon bedded her, though who could blame the Queen, the likelihood of Aegon II having another legitimate heir was a distant memory.

“She could recover.” Aemond replied. Voice calm and stern even as you undid his belt.

“I hope she does.” Truly, you did. It hurt to see her like this, and you knew it hurt Aemond. He held very tender feelings for his meek, soft older sister. Their lily amongst the thorns. “But what if she doesn’t.” Aemond takes a sharp inhale as you grasp him begin to stroke. “What of the line then?”

“Aegon has other sons.” His attention so fixed on watching your hand that he seemed to not realize he was repeating himself. “He could legitimize.”

“A bastard, legitimate or not, will never sit on the Iron Throne.” Not in 100 years. Not in 1000 years. It would never be accepted. “Jaehaera can’t inherit.” Otherwise, what was all this for? “So, it falls to you. Last true son of Viserys Targaryen.”

“Aegon could take another wife.” Aemond reasoned. His voice was still calm, but breath quickening. “Like his namesake.”

“Do you think your mother will really allow that?” Alicent was a lot of things, in your opinion, but deep down she was a good mother. She’d never let her fragile girl be cast away to shatter like glass. “And, who knows, Aegon could die.” Aemond breath hitched at the thought and he stumbled a little before he caught the table. “He’s reckless. Impulsive. And Rhaenyra always seems to get her way. But if there was an heir. A legitimate one.” Your free hand pulled up your skirts and the two of you gasp as you lead Aemond’s cock inside you. “With a legitimate heir in his wife’s belly, no one would question succession.”

The prince stood up to his full height. Looking down on you as his hips rocked slowly between your legs. “That’s what you want then, hm? My princess wants to be the Queen?”

“I want to be by your side.” It was all you ever wanted. From the day you met Aemond and felt not fear like the others, but lust at this tall, handsome, dutiful prince, who was willing to sacrifice an eye to get what he wanted. You had to have a man like that. You would accept no others. And you would sacrifice everything to have his dreams come true in return. “I don’t want to be the Queen. I want to be your Queen.” Aemond hissed loudly when you gripped the back of his long hair and pulled his head back hard. “And I can’t do that if your fucking dead!”

You can see the tether in Aemond snap just before he descended on you. Hips no longer slow and deliberate but rutting against you. Using his height now to box you in on the desk and in his arms. Grunting like an animal. Gods it was thrilling.

It was over very quickly though, as this wasn’t a moment for gentle embraces and soft words like your many nights. It was still the middle of the day, in a semi-private forum, with your skirts up around your hips and husband inside you while ink dribble off the back in your ruckus while Aemond’s cum dribbled out of you at the front. “Do you think it will really happen?”

You try to turn and look at your love, but he caught your face in his hand and kissed the side of your neck first, only able to face him once he was done. “Who knows? Anything is possible. It’s also entirely possible we’ll all be dead come winter.” Aemond chuckled. He always appreciated your practicality for things. You lifted his head up to meet you in the eye. “Which is why you must be careful.”

He looked at you for a long moment. Seeming to think on it before he told you, “I will try.” Which was honestly the best he could offer you.

The prince stepped back and slipped himself free from your cunt. Your legs pressing together to keep what was left of him inside while he helped pull down your skirts. “And if you leave me a pregnant widow, I will never forgive you.” Aemond laughed at that. Legitimately laughed at that.

He leaned in to brush a kiss past your lips and helped you down. “Well, can’t have that now can we.”

Aemond told you he had work to do and asked you to leave as you were too much of a distraction. He also asked, as if it were a passing thought, if you would check on Helaena. You were one of the few people who she would allow to see her these days. And although you may have just plotted her overthrow, you and Aemond still loved her very dearly. He probably asked because he felt guilty about that now. Or he just doesn’t want her to be alone with their mother all the time. You tell him of course and make your leave. Promising to see him tonight.

As you walk down the halls towards the other wings, the throb in your apex and mind still on your prince, you wonder if your musing could be a reality. The likelihood that Aemond could be king was not so far fetched as him dying, although the latter just seemed more likely.

Your hand drifted to your stomach for a moment, thinking on other futures time might have in store for you. Anything was possible after all.

part x xxx xxxx

[k-atsukibakugou]

hiring you after a particularly tense night could either be the best decision endeavor ever made, or the worst.

pairing: enji todoroki x f!reader w/c: 2.7k warning/s:fem!reader, escort!reader, cheating, reader has hair out, finger sucking notes: sorry not sorry i just wanna be a rich mans toy; dialogue is a lil clunky my bad lmao

crossposted to ao3 • masterlist • wip updates & voting • kofi • askbox

“so, what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” despite the firepower of his quirk, the ice is thick between you, your teasing words hardly making a crack in the frigid surface. undeterred by it’s solidity, you make your way over to the hero, still seated at the desk on a chair that makes him seem more imposing than he is, his shoulders flaring past the edges of the high back, the only thing in the room that towers over his seated frame.

the expansive office isn’t enough for the both of you, the air already thick when you take another step closer, the heavy mahogany swinging shut behind you, latching into place with an echoing thud. still without a word, endeavor stares you down like he would a villain, watching your every move, every rise of your chest, the slow sway of your hips. his ears tingle hearing your sleek heels click along the hardwood floor, slow, calculated steps across the ice, no fear of falling when you venture further into the icy depths of the office.

crystal blue eyes trail over your body with every click, drinking in the sight of your tight, white blouse, the top three buttons undone to expose a sliver of your lacy bra, the skirt with a slit far too high on your thigh to be appropriate, your sheer black stay-ups that stop at your mid thigh, a peek of your garter poking from beneath your skirt to keep them up. his ears are ringing when his glare reaches your heels, unsure if it’s his blood rushing to his head, or the sound of you stepping over the rug echoing in his head.

the hero’s heart pumps in his chest incessantly, he can already see the headlines now, top hero hospitalised for cardiac event after inviting escort to his agency. your proximity might be a fate worse than death.

drawing his eyebrows down, he averts his eyes; it shouldn’t be this easy to work him up, you’ve just walked into his office and his mind is already wandering. and yet, when he slouches in the leather, he spots the dark red lace beneath your skirt, the minute layer of fabric doing nothing to hide your dizzying cunt. enji’s sure he’s pale as his head rolls back, the blood rushing from his head, swallowing hard, he wills himself to just relax. you weren’t a threat, you were a woman. so, why was his skin burning so damn hot?

slinking around the corner of his desk like a cat readying for a nap in the sunlight, your non-existent tail curls around his throat, bringing his attention back solely to you. perching yourself on the edge of his desk, shuffling back just enough until the bare skin of your thighs squishes against the cool surface, your position hiking your skirt higher on your limbs, even more so when you cross one leg over the other, pushing the fabric to your hips. he’d never admit it, but his cock jumps just watching you move, gliding over the slowly melting ice with a confidence that made his head feel like static the longer he stared.

your allure makes his head fuzzy, your little office getup flattering every curve and plain of your body; the cliche glasses perched on your nose working better for him than he’d thought. it only gets fuzzier taking you in, your exposed thighs, squishing around the elastic of your garter, the curve of your throat, the shape of your tits when you leaned closer, the colour of your lips. you study him through the glass, licking your lips just to watch him squirm, nearly drooling yourself at the flex of his thighs as he adjusts in the seat, his bulge more than enough evidence of everything he refused to say aloud.

despite calling you after a late patrol, heaving and panting down the line with his fat cock grasped in his hand, he never quite expected the follow through.

“i’ve never been inside the number ones office before,” his gaze is still glued to your thighs listening to you speak, the weight of your sultry gaze making him shift side to side again. quirking your head, your voice is low and even when you lean closer to question him, “what are you so nervous about, endeavor?”

it takes every ounce of his self control to keep his eyes from rolling into the back of his head at the sound of your purring voice, instead, he keeps his blue eyes trained on your sparkling, mischievous ones. even with his attempt to remain stoic, the glimmer in your eyes makes it abundantly clear you remember the low, gravelly tone of his voice when he’d called you, the addictive rumble in his throat as he’d all but groaned down the line, asking to see you. you didn’t bother to respond with your rates, you knew he’d pay from how fucked out he sounded.

“i’m not.” enji wordlessly thanks any god above that his voice is even, that he doesn’t choke on the words, even when you drift closer. your scent clouds his mind, he doesn’t know if it’s your perfume, or a quirk, but the smell sticks to the inside of his nose, melting into every wrinkle and ridge of his brain with every slow breath in. shaking his head doesn't quite clear his head. countless villains defeated by him, but a gorgeous escort clad in a tiny skirt was making him tremble, the pure lewdity of you draped on his desk dressed like that had his blood rushing to places it hadn’t been in years.

growing closer to the hero,his dick twitched like it did the night he called you, the fat tip of his cock starting to stick to his boxers when your lips brushed against the stubbled skin of his jaw in an addictive, barely-there touch, marring the skin with a line of dark lipstick from the corner of his lips to his ear.

“let’s get you more comfortable,” you purr in his ear, the sound waves sending jolts of electricity down his jaw, through the jugular in his throat, down his oesophagus into the depths of his stomach with a deep shudder. your head is just as foggy as his when you drop to your knees in front of him, the wet dream of the hulking hero falling apart at the seams when you’d hardly touched him, hadn’t done a thing to make him so clammy, to get him so worked up, to have his fists clenching at his sides. you hadn’t even looked at his fat cock yet, let alone touched it.

kneeling between his thighs, each wider than your head, you lift a heavy foot that’s nearly as long as your torso, setting his heel in your lap as he studies you like you’re alien; dark red eyebrows furrowing, wrinkling in the centre when you unzip the side of the boot, tugging the moulded lather off his foot. he can see down your thin shirt at this angle, his stormy eyes locked on the charm at the centre, hypnotised by the way it catches the light like a crystal sun catcher in the middle of july, his attention only drawn away from your chest when you tugged his other foot into your lap.

the longer you fiddled with his shoes, the more strung out he got, his tendons feeling like they were about to rip under his skin, his knuckles itching to reach for you, to tug at the flimsy buttons holding your shirt together until the stitches split, growing more and more desperate to bury his cock in your cunt. fuck, he nearly forgot how a warm, wet pussy felt gliding up and down his cock. his eyes fluttered shut, the relief of his boots slipping off his feet doing little to relax his wired body, especially the more he thought about how you’d look bouncing in his lap, still in that short, tight skirt, your pretty manicured fingers rubbing at your clit, your mascara smudging under your eyes when you came, how you’d moan his name when you ride him. would you shudder feeling him dip his head into your weeping cunt? would you ask him to go slow, shiver atop him sinking down his length? would you let him spill his seed in your cunt? or swallow all his cum while you lick him clean of your juices. biting his lip, he stifles a groan at the fantasy of your cheeks full of his cum, of it spilling over your perfect lips, dripping down your chin onto your chest, tainting your thin shirt.

—his eyes squeeze shut with a groan, a heavy hand rubbing at his lidded eyes, the pressure of his knuckles in the socket forcing the picture of you from his mind. he shouldn’t be doing this. he can’t do this. his cock is aching, he can’t be doing this, but fuck, he needs it.

“i can hear you thinking,” you study his face, taking in the bright topaz of his eyes, the indecision swirling in them, the jagged scar tearing through the left side of his face, leaving a gap in the hair on his jaw, the stubble spattered around the clear skin surrounding it, the start of a beard a red only a shade darker than the hair on his head. enji’s hand drops to his thigh, his bright aquamarine gaze meeting yours, the blue a deep navy in the shadows stretching over his face, somehow still glowing an electric blue despite the darkness beneath them, the weary lines that come with the job, and age. propping your chin on his knee, his head rolls back, the front of his boxers nearly wet from staring at you, the glittering of your eyes that looked like you were starstruck, the dark eyeliner smudged around your lash line that he desperately wanted to make run down your face, the creamy lipstick already starting to smear around your lip line, half of it still left on his cheek.

“i don’t know if i can do this…” running a hand through dark red hair, leaving it in spikes. even with his apprehension, he doesn’t stop you from dragging your fingertips over the hard muscle of his thighs, doesn’t jostle your chin from his knee, allowing you to slide your hand under the hem of his shirt to feel the heat of his bare abdomen.

“i..i’m married.”

there’s a flash across his face, a guilt, a worry. you we’re used to clients having… commitments, someone to go home to after you, although, this was the first time you’d seen a man so concerned about it, the morals of betraying his family, the morals of just thinking of you laid bare for him to lick, nip and suck as he pleased, to make your spine arch into him. he’s itching to have you melt on his tongue, on his fingers, fuck, the longer he ogles you, the more he thinks tarnishing his reputation might be worth it. your posture straightens, the hero doesn’t miss a single twitch in your muscles, waiting for you to stand, to storm out. instead, you hum, an amused sound from low in your throat, your hands sliding from beneath his shirt back down the length of his thighs.

light as a feather, your touch grazes his aching cock, his blood running hot through his veins to his crotch, like it was his own hellfire ablaze beneath your touch. it doesn’t cool when you reach for his left hand, tugging the limb easily into his lap, not a single one of his bulging muscles straining to stop your light touches on his skin. sparing a glance at him, you gently trace your fingertips over the cold gold of his ring, the metal dinged, scratched and worn smooth at the edges from years of marriage, decades even.

“i’m not trying to be your wife, endeavor,” your eyes shine looking up at him, “it’s cliche, but i’m anything you want; a lover, a girlfriend, a date— if you don’t wanna touch me,”

your pink tongue pokes out from between your lips when you trail off, slowly licking down the length of his finger. the digit’s calloused, thick from years of hero work, his skin hot in your mouth like a cookie was right out of the oven, when you were too impatient to let them cool, instead savouring the dough melting in your mouth. wrapping your lips around his finger, your eyes are still locked on his, hardly sucking at the digit when he breaks the eye contact, heavy eyelids fluttering shut with a deep groan at the sensation of your tongue and lips around the third knuckle. he sounded even better than he did down the phone; so gravelly, like the noise was alien to his vocal chords.

“then, you don’t have to touch me,”

neither of you have shed a single piece of clothing, he hasn’t even touched you, you’ve barely touched him, yet, his head rolls back when you moan around his finger, licking at his hand like you were trying to taste his leaking cock, your ministrations hardly helping the pre steadily dribbling from his tip. enji’s hips jump when your tongue dips in the webbing between his fingers, any apprehension melting inside him with every pulse of his echoing heartbeat, desperation thrumming in his veins, the need to feel your drool dripping down his cock, to feel the heat of your cunt beneath the red lace of your panties. he throbs with the need to sink into you, he’d fuck you on the floor of his office right now if it meant he could see your pretty pussy dripping with his cum. unfortunately, instead of your creamy slick gathering in his palm, sliding down to his wrist, it’s your saliva, drooling from your bottom lip onto his thick skin, dripping onto the front of his trousers to make a patch on the front mirroring the ever-growing one on his boxers.

“i won’t touch you unless you decide it,” your voice is like an angels chorus, even as devilishly sultry as it was.

“huh-i’m—” breathing heavily, enji’s voice is garbled, his mouth drawing into a tight line, every muscle in his body tensing when you bob your head, sucking his fingers deeper into your throat like you were trying to milk his dick. your hair falls onto your face when his hips jolt off the chair, his hips pushing his palm into your face, his ring finger pressing against the back of your tongue. his resolve is melting, his hips grinding shakily into the air the longer you sucked at his hand in his lap, your soft lips wrapping around the ring beneath his last knuckle, the sensation of your teeth against his skin forcing a rumbling groan from his chest. gold ring between your teeth, you sensually drag your tongue along the underside of his finger, setting every nerve on fire with the tip of your wet muscle fluttering against every ridge of his knuckles.

he’s fucking ruined above you, bulky thighs raising off of the office chair in search of your wet, hot mouth to release into, his hair sticking up in every direction from his fingers constantly tugging on the ends, the veins in his throat shining with sweat at every heavy thrum of his blood. with white knuckles, his abdomen tenses, every muscle in his body fighting against the urge to cum, to wait until he had you beneath him, on top of him, on his face would be less fucking shameful than making a mess of his boxers from a little pseudo-blowjob.

enji mumbles something, his tongue too heavy in his mouth to make any discernible words, especially not over the sound of your slurping at his fingers, he sounded more like he was huffing and grunting than speaking, the sound clawing itself out of his throat when his eyes screw shut, his muscles losing the fight to restrain himself.

shuddering, every solid muscle relaxes at once, the tension ebbing, melting from his veins into pleasure when his cum spits from his hot tip, sticking the front of his boxers to his cock.

his head drops back when you sit back up on your knees, his ring looped around the tip of your tongue, his finger falling from your mouth with an audible pop in the quiet room, the only sound his heavy breathing and the shuffle of your clothes as you adjust your position.

he can fucking hear the grin in your voice spotting the dark stain at the top hero’s crotch, “still worried about your marriage, endeavor?”

© all works belong to @k-atsukibakugou, @gwen0m, and dlirious on archive of our own, do not plagiarise, translate, repost, feed my works into ai or recommend my work on other platforms, or bind my fanworks for sale.

[mrsshabana]

“𝐘𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞, 𝐰𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮?"

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟐: 𝐌𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚

꒦꒷‧₊ Summary Your village is attacked by a man-eating demon, killing everyone in his path. And unfortunately for you, your marechi blood attracts his attention. But instead of killing you, he has other ideas. ꒦꒷‧₊ Content Gyutaro x female!reader, 18+ MDNI, violence, blood, oral sex, reader is on her period. ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.2k words

✧:･ﾟ→ Kinktober Masterlist

Gyutaro had spent the evening taking out his frustration on a small village not too far from the district. Having gotten into an argument with his sister earlier, he was in a sour mood and needed to destress. And what better way than to completely decimate a village of humans.

He had almost killed everything in sight when he smelt it. The smell of blood. There was blood all around him, but this blood was different. It was special. 

“There’s a marechi here…” 

His lips curl into a devious grin as he identifies the scent, immediately following it to the source. Marechi are no easy thing to come by, so Gyutaro counts himself quite lucky to have stumbled upon one. 

The delicious scent leads him to your huddled form. Hiding behind the rubble of a destroyed building. 

Your heart drops when you see him. The demon that killed everyone in your village is here to finish you off. You’re so afraid that you can’t even manage to speak, all you can do is let out pathetic whimpers as tears flood your vision. 

He creeps towards you, enjoying the fearful look in your eyes. But he suddenly stops, glaring down at you with a raised brow. 

“Where’s all the blood?” he thinks to himself. The scent of marechi blood is so strong, yet you don’t appear to be bleeding. A few bruises here and there but no cuts are visible from what he can see. 

With a frown, Gyutaro crouches beside you and looks you up and down. His eyes trail down before a smirk creeps onto his face. Now he understands. 

“Human,” he rasps, “what’s your name?”

His question catches you completely off guard. You aren’t sure if you’re more shocked that he bothered to ask for your name, or the fact that he hasn’t killed you yet. 

“My-my n-name is Y/N,” you say through hiccups and sobs. 

“Y/N? How cute…” he grins and grabs your face, “I’m Gyutaro.” His grip on your face tightens as he leans in closer to you, his breath reeks of blood. “Today’s your lucky day, I’m not going to kill you. So you can stop that pathetic crying now.”

“Wh-what? You’re sparing me?!” your eyes widen and you can’t help but smile knowing that your life won’t be ended tonight. “Th-thank you! Thank you so much!”

“You’re going to be my personal blood bank.”

Your smile immediately disappears, “B-blood bank?”

“Yeah,” he draws out the word, moving his body on top of you - caging you beneath him. “You see, you’re real special. Your blood is valuable to demons like me, makes us stronger,” he growls, “I coulda just killed you now and devoured every last drop. But I’d be able to get more outta you if I just drank from you every month…”

“Drink from me every month?” your face suddenly feels hot, “L-like my…”

“Your period, doll,” he smirks and licks his lips, “You’ll let me have a taste, won’t you? Or do I have to force you to open those pretty legs for me?”

A combination of terror and embarrassment washes over you. All of the things he is saying to you are so foreign, but you don’t have any other choice than to agree. Even though you really don’t want him to touch you like that, is it really worth dying over? After seeing so many people get brutally killed by him you’ll do anything to not suffer the same fate. 

“Ok,” you nod, “You can… d-drink my blood.” Your voice shakes as you slowly open your legs. 

“Good girl,” he coos - lowering himself down to your core and placing a hand on your thigh. He wastes no time lifting your skirt and tearing your panties off of you before tossing them aside. Your soaked pussy exposed to his hungry gaze. You’re so ashamed right now. Having grown up being taught that your menstruation was something to hide, especially around men, it’s hard for you to expose yourself like this to him. But he isn’t phased by it at all. And he most certainly isn’t disgusted. Just looking at the blood between your legs makes his stomach growl and his cock grow hard.

“So pretty,” he mumbles as he inches closer. So close that you can feel his warm breath hitting you while his hands have a firm grip on your thighs. 

Gyutaro can already see the blood coating your lips and it’s driving him crazy. He has to taste you.

He moves his face closer and licks your folds. When the taste hits his lips he can’t help but groan, his eyes almost rolling to the back of his head. It’s been so long since he’s had marechi blood, it’s taking all of his willpower to not devour you right now. 

“Taste so good,” he goes in for another taste. Eagerly lapping his tongue between your folds and along your slit. 

“Ah!” You gasp as he continues feasting on you. Right now you feel so sensitive, so his actions feel even more pleasurable. So much so that your fear gets pushed aside and you completely submit to him. Moaning beneath him as he has his fill. 

His cock twitches in his pants as he eats you out. The heavenly combination of your pretty pussy and the taste of your sweet blood sends him to cloud nine. Not only is your blood the tastiest he’s ever had, but you’re also one of the most stunningly beautiful women he’s ever seen. He can’t help but slowly rock his hips into the ground as he eats you out. Not able to tear himself away from your addicting taste, but also seeking any friction he can get. 

He wants to fuck you so badly, but he knows he’ll have time for that later. Besides, you’re going to be his little human pet after this. Your taste is so addicting that it’s able to distract him from the aching in his cock for the time being. 

Once he’s licked you clean he delves his tongue inside of you, eager for more. His tongue is not like any you’ve seen before, it’s long and thick. Able to reach spots inside of you that even your fingers have never touched. 

Continuously he burrows his tongue inside of you, then slides it back into his mouth to consume every drop you have to offer him. He quickly loses control, eating you like an animal. 

And his ministrations leave you squirming and moaning in pleasure. When he slides his tongue into you again and feels your walls tighten around him, he moves his thumb over your clit and starts rubbing tight circles. 

“That’s it, be a good girl and gimme more.”

His tongue and his fingers become too much for you, and quickly push you over the edge. Your orgasm hits you harder than ever before. Toes curling, back arching, and nails digging into the dirt. “Ahhh~ Gyu-Gyutaro!!” You yelp as your body shakes beneath him.

He holds your thighs still and continues to slurp away at your sweet nectar. Your orgasm causing more to flow onto his tongue. 

“So makin’ you cum makes you bleed more?” he grins, showing off his blood covered fangs. “Then we’re gonna be busy all night.”

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober: Day 6 (Dub-Con)

Kink: Dubious Consent

Pairing: Merman x Fem!Reader

Other Kinks: Yandere, Creampie

Warnings: Mind Control (Siren's Song), Kidnapping, Aforementioned Dubious Consent

Word Count: 1011 Words

Kinktober Masterlist

Drake has been to many beautiful places in his life. He’s been amongst a pod of whales, new mothers and calves heading back to their home. He’s been up close with vast coral reefs, in between ancient sea turtles and giant pods of fish. He’s even swam through the crashing waves of a hurricane, enjoying the foam and turning water around him.

But right now, there's no place Drake would rather be than in between your legs.

Your thighs feel so plush against his lips, the skin almost like tissue paper against his sharp teeth. The urge to bite down is strong, to hear your gasps and taste the sweet blood that pulses underneath. But he doesn’t want your first time together to be a painful one, as much as he’d love to mark and claim all over your body. No, instead he just dives in and sucks at your cunt, delicious flavors exploding on his tongue. Just the scent makes his dick bulge against his sheath, aching from the lack of touch.

You moan so pretty when his tongue shoves deep inside you, prodding at your walls, his nose nuzzled into your clit. He pets at your hip, forcing himself to pull away from your pussy.

“How does that feel, love?”

“Feels…good.” You slur, voice heavy and delirious.

Drake looks up, wishing he could see your eyes at their normal color. Under the calming trance of his song, they’ve clouded over and lost all their shine. It’s a shame, but you had been putting up such a fight, resisting your body’s calling too much. Drake is sure with time you’ll accept his love, his partnership, and he can see those beautiful eyes while making love.

For now though, it's better you stay half-aware and submissive. Your pussy will stretch much easier, taking his larger merman-cock with more pleasure than pain. Its a mercy, really.

Speaking of, as delicious as your cunt is, Drake is impatient to be inside you. Grabbing onto the rock below, he pulls his heavy body and tail out of the water. His face now lines up with yours, allowing him to give gentle kisses to your cheek and neck. The song you're under doesn’t give you enough coordination to kiss back, but you still nuzzle into the affection anyway. So cute.

“I’m going to fuck you now, my darling. Is that okay?”

You nod, shoving your face into the crook of his heck, relishing in his soft skin.

“Yes…I want your cock.” Your voice is still slow, partially convinced of what you need. It's so adorable, Drake coos. It's a wonder he didn’t snatch you up sooner.

Drake arms tremble with excitement as he lines his cockhead up with your slit, your wet pussy feeling so good against it. Finally, finally he’s going to mate you, claim you, breed you. After longing and lusting for so long, Drake feels like he’s in Nirvana.

His moan echoes as he finally enters you, taking time to slowly fill you all the way to his base. His nails dig into the rock below, leaving white claw marks in their wake. When your walls clench around him, embracing the intrusion, his hips spasm and he fears he may come undone too soon. But Drake bites his lip, sucking in the blood he draws, and fights it. He’s waited so long. He must savor this.

Drakes uses one arm to throw your leg around his hip, using the leverage to begun thrusting his cock at a steady rhythm. He lets himself be wanton and loud with his moans, all alone in this secluded cave off the shore. Even your tiny whines and panting bounces off this wall, music to his ears.

“Goddesses, you feel divine.”

Drake keens, snapping his hips against yours. He can feel his tip hit the deepest spot inside you, chasing the way you tighten around him when he does. The slick sound of his scales against your ass reminds him of your tasty pussy juices, how he’ll get to drink them up every morning and every night now that he has you. His cock twitches inside you, dripping with his own pre cum. Maybe he’ll suck on your pussy after he climaxes, tasting the mix of your juices together, tasting the affirmation of your love. That makes his cock twitch even more.

Drake meets you in a passionate kiss, devouring all your little noises. His tongue forces its way inside, unbothered by your minimal effort in kissing him back.

Your nails dig into his back, leaving minimal damage. Drake relishes in the feeling.

“I’m close.” You whimper, eyes clenched shut.

“Yes, yes, cum on my cock.” Drake pants, eyes wild with passion. “I want to feel your love, I want to taste you.”

You whine as Drake pulls his shaft out to the tip, leaving you empty and on the edge for a tantalizing 3 seconds. He’s soaking in this view, your chest flushed with a blush, sweat beading down your neck. He wishes this could last forever

“Absolutely perfect.”

Before you can whine and beg for it, Drake shoves his cock deep inside you, finally chasing that high. Your legs wrap around the base of his tail and shake as your orgasm washes over you, milking his cock. His climax comes soon after, making sure to fill up your womb with his seed as he spends himself.

Even soft, the heat of your cunt feels perfect around him. But Drake knows he may crush you if he lays his whole body on top of yours, so he slips out and lays by your side. Cum drips out of your cunt, which Drake makes sure to finger back inside. Your eyes, still hazy, close shut as you rest against his side. Your breathing becomes steady, falling into a gentle sleep as your exhausted body comes off the high of his siren song. Drake strokes a hand alongside your cheek, so blessed to know that your visage will greet him every night from now on.

Yes, Absolutely Perfect

[curlycow01]

Only you: The Chase

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: After escaping hydra, you and bucky move to Romania to live your lives in peace, but the universe has other plans

Warnings: None really

a/n: I didn't originally think of making a series, but I had a couple ideas so why not write them down? hope you enjoy my attempt at writing a sequel. thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged the first one. Special thanks to @wintrsoldrluvr and @lanabuckybarnes

Only you part 1:

Your breathing was ragged as you willed your legs to go faster in the dark. You were running into darkness, but you didn't care, as long as you got away from them.

Scorching red hands grabbed you from behind, their touch burning deep impressions in your skin as they yanked you back. The hands wrapped around your head to keep it still.

Your gaze landed on a familiar chair and your eyes widened with fear as Bucky was brought in, his shoulder length hair barely covering his eyes, which were so empty, completely devoid of any emotion.

They threw him in the chair and machines tortured him, his screams booming in your ears. You cried out for him, you wanted to move, to do anything to help him but the hands firmly gripped you, forcing you to watch as tears pooled in your eyes. The hands slowly suffocated you, breathing was getting harder-

You woke up with a start, gripping the mattress beneath you as you tried to steady your breathing. "Doll?" You shifted to see Bucky, sitting on a chair, with his elbow on the table.

''I'm okay" you replied in a low voice. "Another nightmare?" he asked quietly. You nodded. You both were getting nightmares since moving to Bucky's tiny apartment in Romania 2 years ago. Sleeping beside each other helped, but Bucky often stayed up at night, watching over you while you slept.

Bucky gets up and walks over to you. He lowers himself beside you and takes your hand, gently rubbing the inside of your wrist. You shift closer to him, needing his warmth. He pulls you to his chest, his light blue shirt matching the color of his eyes. You inhale his scent, which instantly calms you. Bucky senses this. "Better?" he murmurs softly. "Loads" you whisper, already feeling a bit drowsy.

"Take a nap" he suggests, his voice low and soothing. "I'll hold you" he tightens his grip slightly and you're encased in his arms as you slowly drift asleep.

You wake up a few hours later, with Bucky still holding you as he slept. You stayed in the same position, listening to his breathing and the rhythmic beating of his heart. He stirred a few minutes, his arms around you loosening.

"Hey" you whisper "sleep well?" "No nightmares" he confirms, his voice raspy. "Same" you smile. Bucky leans back a bit, but his arms are still around you. "I was thinking" he starts. You hum to let him know that you were listening.

"I read somewhere that plums help in remembering things, makes memories last longer." He takes a pause before continuing "Maybe we could go and buy some?" "Sure" you answer "I've never had plums before" He kisses the top of your head "You and me both doll"

After escaping Hydra together, Bucky started remembering parts of his life from the 1940s. He wrote them down in a notebook so he could piece them together and wouldn't forget again. You both visited the Smithsonian, which had information about Bucky during the war. He also read about Steve, who was close to him in the past.

Unlike Bucky, you didn't remember anything about your past, Hydra brainwashed you too hard and broke your mind. You didn't even know your name. Bucky offered to help, but you declined, saying that it would just be a reminder of what Hydra took from you. Your life was with Bucky now, and you were more than happy with it.

A few hours later, you both went to the Street Market to buy some plums. Bucky wore a black cap and a jacket with a brown hoodie. He was wearing a red henley underneath. He always hid his metal arm in public, other than it drawing unwanted attention, he was a little insecure about it. You were the only one who got to see his metal arm, he was comfortable and trusted you with his life.

A sea of deep purple plums were before you. Bucky was beside you, already picking a few. You reached out and grabbed one, feeling the smooth exterior and handing it to Bucky's gloved hand.

"It has spots on it" he observed. "Oh" you frowned, picking another one and inspecting it before showing it to him. "perfect" he smiles. You paid for the plums and both of you stepped on the street. Bucky took a bite out of a plum.

"How is it?" you ask curiously as he finishes eating it. "It's good." he states hesitantly. "But you taste better" he says teasingly, his eyes having a glint of mischievousness as he pulls you closer to him. A blush creeps on your cheeks "Now I'm thinking you had an ulterior motive to buying plums" you mutter.

He suddenly stills beside you, and you gave his arm a slight squeeze. "Everything okay?" "That guy across the street" he whispers "I- I think he recognized us" Your heat skipped a beat. "Should we go and check?" you ask nervously. Bucky moves forward, you following closely behind him.

Before you both could cross the street and reach the guy's shop, the guy bolted from the back. Bucky reached first and glanced at the newspaper on the counter.

You took the newspaper in your hands. The headline in Romanian said: Bombing in Vienna kills 12, including the Ruler of Wakanda, King T'chaka. A suspect was observed at the scene. A blurry shot of Bucky was under it, his face barely visible.

"This isn't true." you say firmly as you slam the paper on the counter "You were here with me this whole time! In Romania!" "You weren't in Germany!" Bucky stayed silent as you defended him. "We should head back to the apartment" you say in a low voice. He gives you a small nod. You both rush back to the apartment, but just as you were about to enter, Bucky steps infront of you. "Somebody's inside" he whispers, his face darkening. "Stay behind me"

He goes inside, his footsteps completely silent. You follow behind and see someone standing near the fridge. Captain America. you realize, the dark blue helmet reminding you of the picture Bucky kept in his notebook.

He turns around and faces you and Bucky, who was still standing infront of you. "Do you know me?" Captain America asks. "You're Steve" Bucky answers, "I read about you in a museum" The Captain places Bucky's notebook on the table. "You're lying" his gaze falls on you. "Who's she?"

Bucky glances at you, his eyes softening before he turns to answer. "Hydra brainwashed her too, but we escaped from them" Steve waits for a moment before speaking "Was that you in Vienna?"

"He wasn't" you answer before Bucky could, and you step beside him. "He was with here with me the whole time." "We don't do that anymore" Bucky finishes. Steve seems convinced. "Well, the people who think that he bombed the Conference are coming here, and they don't plan on taking either of you alive."

Bucky takes off his glove covering his metal hand. "Good strategy" he states in an emotionless voice. "This doesn't have to end in a fight Buck" Steve says. You hear multiple sets of footsteps climbing the floor. "It always ends in a fight" Bucky replies. "You pulled me from the river" Steve says urgently "Why?" "I don't know" Bucky answers "Yes you do" Steve presses firmly.

A grenade is thrown through the window, but Bucky is quick to kick it to Steve, who covers it with his shield, absorbing the impact. Armed Special Forces Soldiers break in through the window with a loud crash. They don't get the chance to fire their weapons as you and Bucky swiftly disarm them and knock them out with a couple of well-placed punches.

"We have to get out of here" Bucky murmurs to you, his breathing slightly heavy. You nod and cross the room and punch through the wooden floor to grab a bag with supplies and few notebooks containing Bucky's writings about his past.

"Let's go" you say, handing him the bag. He straps it to his chest. The door breaks down and more soldiers enter, but you and Bucky leap out the back door and land on the roof of another building. You both start sprinting away from your apartment building.

"SO MUCH FOR LIVING IN PEACE!" you yell while running. Bucky suddenly stumbles forward, causing you to stop running. "What the-" In front of you stood a man covered head to toe in a black suit, his helmet resembling a cat. He lunges forward at Bucky, but you tackle him away, causing you both to fall through the entrance of the tunnel-road.

You fall on your stomach onto the hard concrete, you aren't hurt badly, thanks to the serum. A pair of familiar hands grab you by your waist and help you up. "You okay?" asks Bucky. You nod. "They're still after us". Wasting no time, you both sprinted through the tunnel as cars sped by. A motorcycle was heading your way, threating to collide, but in one swift motion, Bucky grabs it, causing its rider to fall off and replacing himself as its driver. You quickly sat behind Bucky, wrapping your arms around him for support.

The engine roared as you both sped through the dim tunnel. "You know, this isn't how I imagined taking you on a drive" Bucky says with a hint of amusement in his voice as he takes a turn. "We're literally getting chased by a man in a cat suit and this is what you've got to say?"

Your eyes widen as you glance at the rear-view mirror to see the man in the black suit jumping from car to car like a panther, and leaps to your motorcycle, just barely managing to slash the back tire with his claws, sending you and Bucky tumbling to the ground.

The man hovers over Bucky, about to strike, but Captain America jumps forward and throws him back. You and Bucky get up as SUVs pull up and German Police surround you four, pointing guns at your heads.

Captain America stands beside you and Bucky protectively as Iron Patriot flies down, aiming a machine gun at Bucky. "Stand down" he commands "Now" He turns to Steve "Congratulations Cap. You're a criminal"

One of the cops pushes Bucky to the ground to cuff him, and you try to stop him but realize fighting isn't the play here. More chances of getting hurt and therefore reducing the likelihood of escaping. Bucky knows this. 2 cops cuff your hands behind your back and pin you to the ground alongside Bucky.

You shift your head slightly to look at him, your cheek against the cool cement as you gazed into Bucky's eyes. "I made you a promise doll" he whispers so only you could hear. "I'll get us out of here" his eyes burning with fury.

"And I'll tear apart any person who'll try to take you away from me"

[navybrat817]

Any chance we'll see tattoo artist Steve soon? 🥺

Here's a bit of Steve's birthday, nonnie.

By Any Other Name

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Steve Rogers x Teacher!Female Reader Summary: You're the only thing Steve wants for his birthday. Word Count: Over 900 Warnings: Implied sex, implied oral sex (f. receiving), future couple, Steve Rogers (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Meet Thorn and Rose, set in the same AU as Hottie and Sugar. ❤️ Thank you to @jobean12-blog for chatting with me about this! Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics and Steve edit by the wonderful Nix. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The first thing you thought when you woke up was that you couldn't believe how well rested you were. The sun was already up, shining bright through the window and curtain. You didn't normally sleep in and had no idea what time it was, but you didn't care as you nestled back into the pillow. It was going to be a good day.

If indicated by the wonderful ache between your thighs.

Your eyes widened when the figure beside you wrapped an arm tight around your waist. For a second, you almost forgot that you weren't alone and weren't in your bed. The large body was so warm and solid, practically a furnace. The beard that tickled your neck made the ache in your core throb with need.

So, I did actually sleep with my tattoo artist. It wasn’t a dream.

"Morning," Steve rasped, his lips lightly brushing against your skin as you held back a whimper.

“Morning,” you whispered back.

Your heart fluttered when he raised his head, his deep blue eyes focusing more as he smiled. His blonde hair was slightly dishevled, but he managed to still look perfect. You probably looked like a monster. It didn’t stop him from pressing a kiss between the center of your eyes.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his muscular arm pulling you a bit closer.

"I'm okay," you replied after a moment, lightly tracing one of the tattoos on his forearm.

"Just okay?" he asked, concern in his eyes.

You weren't sure how to respond. The gorgeous man who talked you through getting your tattoo was practically a stranger. And you slept with him. To say he rocked your world was an understatement. The man shattered you and you couldn’t believe how he was able to put every piece of you back into place.

“Steve, Steve, Steve!”

“That’s it, sweetheart. Scream my name when I make you come for me. I’ve got you.”

The mere memory, along with his chest against yours, made your nipples hard and made you damp between your legs. You didn’t draw any attention to it though. While he didn’t seem like the type to kick you out of his bed, you had no idea where he wanted to go from here.

“More than okay. I slept really well,” you admitted, backing up just a little. He didn’t need your morning breath in his face.

Steve only pulled you closer. “So did I,” he smiled, cracking his neck a little. “And how’s your wrist feeling?”

“Just fine. Thank you,” you said as he gently took it to check. You still couldn’t believe you ran from the chair when he turned the tattoo gun on. Needles weren’t your thing. He managed to get you through it and you were glad for it.

The rose and single thorn tattoo was beautiful and worth conquering that fear.

“I’m glad you went through with it. And I’m not afraid to tie you down if you try to run from me again,” he winked, making your cheeks hot. “I have to say, this is the best way to wake up on my birthday.”

“Wait, it’s your birthday?” you smiled when he gave you a sheepish look. “Happy birthday, Steve. I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything.”

To be fair, you didn’t know and you hadn’t expected to go home with him last night.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he said, slowly tugging the sheet away. “But do you want to give me something?”

Instead of trying to cover yourself up, you let him fully see you in the sunlight. The way his eyes darkened, he liked what he saw. “What did you have in mind?” you asked, your voice huskier than before.

“Well, Bucky and the guys are having a small thing for me tonight,” he said, lightly running his fingers along your torso. “Would you, maybe, want to go?”

Not what I thought he’d have in mind, but that kind of sounds like a date.

“Sure,” you smiled, happy that he wanted to see you again. “I’d love to go.”

Watching his face light up was almost like you gave him a real gift. “Is it selfish to ask for one more thing?” he asked, bracing himself over you before he leaned down to capture your mouth.

Any self-conciousness about your breath and anything else disappeared as desire took over. His cock was hard, trapped between your bodies as he lightly grinded against you. “That all depends on what you ask for,” you teased as he moved his kisses down your neck.

“Scream my name again. Do it while my tongue’s deep inside you,” he said as you bit your lip. It sounded more like a command and one you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist. “And do it again when I give you my cock.”

“Steve,” you whimpered, slipping your fingers into his hair.

“Louder than that, Rose,” he said, nipping your collarbone and making you giggle at the reference of your tattoo. “And since it’s my birthday, I get to eat as much as I want.”

“You really are going to be a thorn in my side, aren’t you?” you asked affectionately.

“I prefer to be the ache between your gorgeous thighs,” he smirked. “So open up and let me eat.”

Your legs spread without another word. You’d let him have his fill. It was his birthday, after all. And it would’ve been wrong to deny him.

Steve deserves it, right? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[mynameismckenziemae]

All of Me

Part 5

(previous part here, next part here)

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x You

Summary: You wake up to an empty bed but not for the reason you think.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Smut, fingering, teasing, orgasm delay/denial, kink discussion, femdom kind of? Lmk if I missed anything.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•

Your eyes slowly blink open a few hours later, feeling more rested than you have in years. “Good morning,” you murmur as you roll over. Jake’s not there, though the bed is still warm.

Disappointment fills you when you hear the front door closing softly.

You sigh as you reach for your phone. It’s only fair; it’s exactly how you left him after your first night together.

But there’s a text from Jake, sent only 5 minutes prior.

Jake: BRB, just going to go get breakfast.

Reese: Sounds good. Scared me for a second, I thought you pulled a Reese 🥴

Jake: I wouldn’t do that to a friend 😉

Reese: Couldn’t blame if you did. I’m sorry for that btw.

Jake: It’s all good. I’m just I got to see you again and that’s saying a lot because I hate going to the doctor.

Jake: Since you’re awake, what do you want for breakfast?

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

He’s back 20 minutes later with coffee and your favorite breakfast in hand. He looks good enough to eat in his gray sweatpants and black tank top.

“It’s called iatrophobia,” you say between sips of coffee in bed, continuing when he gives you a confused look. “The fear of going to the doctor. It’s more common than you think. Is it something you’ve always struggled with?

A flush works up his neck as he nods. “Yeah, as long as I can remember. My mom said it started after I got a round of shots at 3. I don’t get it, shots don’t even bother me that much anymore but even walking into a clinic or hospital makes me antsy.”

“You could start having lunch with me in my office,” you offer, happy that you sound nonchalant while your stomach does somersaults. “See if it helps?”

The way he grins tells you he can see right through your ruse. “Sure, kinda like exposure therapy.”

“Exactly.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Hey, I’m gonna run home to change but I’ll see you…” Jake trails off as he re-enters the bedroom to you half-naked.

“I had to change,” you huff as you pull on another pair of bikini bottoms, “Because someone left not one, but two hickeys on my ass.”

You turn and groan when you see the marks still not covered by fabric in the mirror.

He doesn’t need to know you like it.

“I’m sorry,” he walks over with the cutest grin and turns you so you’re again facing the mirror. He’s already hard against your ass.

“No, you’re not,” you laugh breathlessly as he kisses your neck.

“No, I’m not,” he agrees as his eyes find yours in the reflection.

“Make it up to me?” You ask as you take his hand and bring it to your lips, drawing two of his fingers into your mouth.

He nods and his hips jerk into you when you swirl your tongue around the digits, before dragging them down your body and into the front of your swimsuit.

You sigh as you let him take over between your legs, rubbing slow circles over your clit. Your head drops back onto his shoulder when your hand pushes down the fabric covering your breast to find your nipple begging for attention.

“I’m gonna be fighting a hard-on all day now that I know what you’re hiding under this bikini,” he complains, slotting himself between your cheeks with a gentle thrust. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, feeling the way your heart races as he kisses your pulse point, “I can’t get you off my mind. At work…when I’m with friends…especially at night when I’m alone in bed.”

“Tell me what you think about when you touch yourself,” you order, eyes falling close as he slides two fingers into you. Lewd, wet noises fill your bedroom giving away just how much he turns you on. You gasp, pinching your nipples just as his fingers rub against your g-spot while the heel of his palm gives your clit attention.

“Imagining you sucking me off,” You can hear his smile, “and now I know and it’s even better than I thought.” His free hand finds your butt and squeezes, pulling a moan from you. “I think about your ass and what it would be like to take you from behind; pulling out and coating it with my cum.”

“Yes,” you breathe, clenching around him as you picture it. “What else?”

“You sitting on my face, using me to get off,” he grunts as his hips rut faster as if he can’t help it. “N-not…”

Your eyes flutter open as he trails off; embarrassment paints his face in pink. One of your hands slides up to turn his chin towards you to give him a biting kiss. “It’s okay, you can tell me,” you pant against his lips; his breathing matching yours.

You turn back, eyes meeting his again in the mirror. “Tell me,” you order softly as you slide your fingers back over his jaw and into his hair; refusing to give in to the pleasure rapidly approaching until you hear what else he has to say.

“Never told anyone this,” he whispers, working his hand harder in an effort to distract you. “I-uh…I think about you edging me; making me beg you cum,” his eyes close and he flushes even further as he tells you all of his secrets, “not letting me cum at all.”

Picturing him begging and at your mercy is all it takes for you to fall apart with a broken moan of his name, one hand tugging his hair and eyes locked on his as the pleasure consumes you.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

He groans as he watches you and your hips press against your ass more insistently; like he’s getting close.

“W-wait,” you say, still catching your breath. He instantly stills his hips. “Not yet. I want you to wait.”

“Fuck,” he shudders, hiding his face in your neck. “You don’t-I mean…if you’re not into-“

“I’m into it,” you interrupt him, shivering as you pull his hand from your bikini bottoms. A punched-out noise leaves him when you lick his fingers clean. “Look at me.”

He slowly raises his head and you have to bite back your whimper at his half-lidded, lust-gazed eyes.

“You aren’t going to cum,” you whisper, reveling in the way his breath hitches, “until I say so.”

His eyes darken before he nods slowly.

“We better get going,” you sigh reluctantly as you step out of his arms and bend over to look through the bottom drawer of his dresser. “It’s almost noon and I’ve got to find some shorts to wear over these yet.”

“Yeah, I should uh…” he sounds entranced as he clears his throat before trying again. “I should go home and change.”

You have to fight the urge to jump him when you turn around to pull up your shorts.

He’s standing where you left him; skin flushed, hair messy from your fingers up hair, still hard and straining against his sweatpants, precum darkening the gray fabric.

“Yeah,” you swallow. “You better go home or we’ll never make it to the beach on time.”

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“Mom!” Drew’s face lights up when he sees you approaching across the hot sand.

“Hey bud,” you return his hug, knowing the days of him hugging you willingly in public are sadly numbered. “How was boys night?”

“Good,” he doesn’t elaborate, of course. “Come meet Roo’s friends.”

“Okay,” you smile , letting him lead you over.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

“I’ve missed you,” Penny murmurs as she pulls you in for a hug. She and Mav are like family.

“This is Javy,” Drew says as he pulls you away from Penny. “Javy, this is my mom.”

“Nice to meet you,” Javy smiles and you realize he’s Jake’s friend; the one who threw the football the night you met. Either he doesn’t recognize you or has a good poker face.

“I’m Reese,” you laugh as Drew moves on before you shake his hand. “Nice to meet you too!”

“This is Nat, Javy’s…I don’t remember what it’s called but they’re getting married. She’s a pilot too, like Dad was. Her callsign is Phoenix, isn’t that cool?!”

“It is,” you agree, returning her smile as you shake her hand. “I’m Reese. I’ve seen you around base. Nice to put a name to the face.”

Bob and Callie are familiar faces; they transferred here a few months prior to your deployment. You hadn’t met their daughter, Elsie, yet who’s cute as a button at 3 years old.

“Did you seriously shower before coming to the beach?” Javy says as you feel a presence walking up behind you.

“Jake!” Drew exclaims, tugging you around and saving Jake from having to answer.

It’s been less than an hour since you last saw him but your breath catches when his green eyes meet yours.

“This is my mom, she’s a doctor,” Drew says as he’s looking at Jake like he hung the moon.

You know how he feels.

“Never been a fan of doctors,” he teases, winking at Drew and ruffling his hair.

“Do you wanna play football? I think there’s one in the Bronco,” Drew asks, bouncing with energy.

“Sure, why don’t you go see if anyone else wants to play? You’re on my team though,” Jake replies. Drew nods eagerly and runs off to do just that.

“Did you take a shower?” You ask, noticing his wet hair.

“Yep,” he nods. “A cold one.”

“How come?” You ask, trying not to smile.

“You know why,” he says under his breath, nodding at Bradley who’s looking over at the two of you. “Can’t hide anything in swim trunks.”

“Jake’s on my team!” Drew waves at him excitedly.

“Reese, you’re with me,” Bradley picks you next.

“Good luck,” you say, smiling at the double entendre as you walk over to your team.

•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>•<•>

A/N: I didn’t want to end it here but I didn’t want to rush what I have planned next. I hope you liked it ☺️

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[peachesofteal]

In one of my many cooked up Simon-verses, he lives to take care of you. He cherishes all the sweet, lovely parts of you that need care, the fragility of your entire existence allowing him the freedom of doting on you endlessly. Your willingness to let him take over, let him take care of you satisfies his intense need for control, it satiates something that burns within his heart, and soothes a deep, buried fear of being abandoned.

brief 18+ content and mentions of depression, eating issues beneath the cut:

Your back hurts from sitting at the desk all day at work? He’ll work his thumbs into the knots of your spine until your bones turn to mush. Too exhausted to cook yourself dinner after a meeting runs over and you get home late? He’s already got it handled. Headache behind your eyes from staring at a computer screen for hours? He’s got Tylenol and water ready when your key clicks into the lock. Your brain won’t turn off, overloaded and overwhelmed by whatever’s going on in your life? He pulls orgasms from your body until you’re babbling incoherently, the tears tracking down your face and your voice raw from crying his name, your worries and troubles long forgotten. Your shoulders tight with stress, frown lines etched into your face like they’ve been sitting there all day? He bends you over the kitchen counter as soon as you walk through the door, stripping your work pants to your ankles and spreading your legs for himself, his body eager to deplete yours of the stress that you’re carrying so heavily.

You’re strong, so bloody strong it amazes him, strong enough to stand without him any time you want, so it honors the hell out of him when you allow him to care for you, when you allow him to shoulder your burdens.

So… he doesn’t mind, that you’re not like everyone else. It doesn’t bother him that sometimes you forget to eat your lunch, or drink your water. Of course he worries when food has no appeal to you, but he takes it slowly, bite by bite, holding your hand until you’ve finished half a plate, pulling you into his arms afterwards for gentle encouragement. It doesn’t grate on him when you can’t get out of bed on your day off, body exhausted, mind spiraling into the darkest depths of hell. He wants you to feel better, feel good, absolutely, but to take care of you in these moments doesn’t scare him, or fill him with irritation. It’s selfish of him and he knows it, to look at you like a gift, but he can’t help the primal feeling that overcomes him when you ask him to draw you a bath. He knows, your brain isn’t wired like other people’s, just like his isn’t, and he tells you often, he doesn’t mind that you require a little extra care. After all, doesn’t he require that too? He’s not exactly the easiest either. You’ve given him everything, an opportunity to be needed by you, to care for you, to love every piece that may or may not be perfect, to press his lips to the scars that mirror his own.

You’re soft, and kind, and gentle, all the things he’s not, and all he wants to do is make sure you can stay that way. He has to make sure nothing can darken your sweet smile, nothing can ever hurt you, or twist you into something unrecognizable, something more like him than you.

He buries the fear of abandonment, it’s darkness that sits in the pitch of his heart, the fear that thumps in chambers of the muscle, the terror that burns in his blood. You need him, you need him, you need him, he says over and over, assuring himself that you wouldn’t leave, that you’re here with him. He pushes it all down, pushes it away while he curls his body around yours, pressing his face into your neck and whispering soothingly to you until you’re asleep in his arms.

This is 1000% the Simon (and reader) in Dead Disco. Having both you and Johnny to care for, watch over, be with, completes him in every sense of the word. He clings to Johnny so desperately when they’re away on Ops, just as hard as he clings to the two of when you’re all home together, safe. Having Johnny under his command, being able to care for him so completely, on and off the field is something he’s only ever dreamed about, the reality of it feeling more like a fairytale than reality. His Johnny, his Sergeant, his partner. His Johnny, on the comms, his Johnny working in lock step alongside Simon, his Johnny safe and secure every day after an engagement.

His Johnny, his Darling. Safe in his arms, cared for by him. Loved by him. Needing him.

[idyllcy]

gassed - tim drake x reader (pretty bird countdown #5)

"Birdie?" You open your arms for him as he stumbles through the window, shaking quietly as he breathes you in, pupils dilated, shaking quietly as you run your hand through his hair. "Hey, hey. I'm here. You're safe. You're good."

"Alive? Alive." He presses his hands to your pulse point, matching his breathing to yours as you try and calm him down. His body shakes against yours as he cries, gloved nails digging into your back as he sobs into your shoulder.

"I'm alive." You hum, fingers racking down his back as he practically engulfs you.

He heaves, fingers digging into your arms as he whimpers

"Do you want the antidote?"

"Yes, please." Tim mumbles.

"'Kay, I'm gonna have to move, so hold on to my hand, alright?" You peel yourself from him, hand taking his as you lead him through the halls to the study. His breathing doesn't steady, but he grips your hand with a strength unknown to man, trusting that you are there in front of him, even when his mind tempts him no.

"Pretty bird?"

"I'm here, birdie." You echo back. "We're gonna get the fear out of your system, alright?"

He whimpers back.

"We're almost at the study." You move to loop your arm around his, skin still pressed to his as you unlock the door, reaching to unlock the door as his hand finds your bicep.

"You're alive?"

"Yes, birdie." You hum, pulling him in as you sit him down. "I'm gonna be gone for a second, alright? Stay seated on the couch."

"Don't leave." He mumbles. "What if—"

"I won't, birdie. You're safe here. I promise." You mumble. "Just the upper cabinet."

His hand slides down your arm to the back of your thigh as you unlock the cabinet, serum in your hand as you peel off his armor, flicking the needle as you give him the antidote.

"Birdie?"

He doesn't say anything, arms wrapped around your torso instead, needle disposed of in the right bucket as you move to rest your legs over his. You watch as his eyes return to normal, pupils expanding slowly as he starts drawing circles on your thigh.

"Hey."

"Hey." He croaks. "Pretty bird."

"Yeah." You wrap your arms around him, his head on your chest as you scratch his scalp.

"Thank you."

"Of course." You hum. "Always. Do you want food? Shower?"

"Stay a little longer." Tim mumbles, eyes closed as he listens to you breathe. "I'm sorry."

"Never be sorry for that. You're human, birdie." You hum.

In your back pocket, your phone vibrates with a call.

"Hm?" You hold it up with one hand as the other stays in Tim's hair.

"Is Red with you?"

"Mhm. Birdie's with me." Tim squirms in your arms.

"Treated?"

"Yeah. We have a couple vials at our place."

"Alright. We were supposed to get him to the cave but he ran off too fast. I'm glad he went to check for you." Oracle hums. "Come over for dinner sometime?"

"Sure." You laugh. "Good luck with the rest of the night. Love you lots, Oracle."

Babs rolls her eyes before she hangs up — you can practically hear it through the phone.

"Sorry." Tim mumbles into your skin. "I must've scared them."

"It's fine. They understand." You brush your thumb over his cheek. "Feeling better?"

"Yes." He hums. "What'd you do in the evening?"

"Research. I was working on one of my classes."

"Can we shower together?"

"Sure, birdie." You laugh. "Anything else you want?"

"A bowl of cup noodles."

"I can do that."

"And a goodnight kiss." He huffs.

"Of course." You press your lips to his forehead, humming. "Anything for you, birdie."

[urf4vsc0rpio]

An Unhealthy Obsession

Bela Dimitrescu x Fem! Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Obsessive behavior, stalking, knife play, overstimulation, biting, marking, blood drinking yummy, degrading (Consent is given, let the lesbians have their lil chasy chase)

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: What if this was your last day in the castle?

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: inspired by the song An Unhealthy Obsession <3 I also got lazy at the end soooo yea

The castle was empty, not even a single maid was seen except for you. It was silent minus the sound of your heart thumping ever so loudly against your chest, the clack of your shoes against the cold floor along with the occasional buzzing whenever the oldest sister got scarily close. Your legs were practically begging you to stop and catch a breather but your mind kept pushing you to run, filling your head with what if's. What if she took this seriously? What if this isn't actually roleplay and just a trick to suck you dry and throw you to the lycans? What if this would be your last day in the castle? A shudder ran up your spine when you heard her voice echoing through the halls.

"You just don't know it yet, but you love me and I love you the same"

You shook off the thoughts that clouded your mind and kept on running, you didn't really have a destination in mind but you surely did have a goal. Stay as far away as possible from Bela and make it till midnight. That's all you needed to do, it sounded easy, no? But by the black gods you were wrong, so very wrong. It's Bela Dimitrescu for fucks sake, the oldest sister, the one with the most experience. You were fucked, absolutely fucked...

"One day we'll have a pretty wedding, and I'll be your everything"

The buzzing of her flies filled your ears along with that perfect voice of hers. She knew you could hear her, you knew she was close. She could hear how your heart was beating so quickly like a bunny being chased by a wolf. She could smell your fear and it was wonderful, she loved it, adored it even. Your scent was like a drug that she could never get enough of. Your blood was addicting, it felt like she ascended to heaven the first time that warm liquid landed on her tongue. She couldn't wait to sink her fangs into that pretty neck of yours, to hear that melodious moan of yours whenever she would lick at the bite while her hands would worship every inch of your perfect body.

"We'll be together, yes forever, we will never ever part"

You turned the corner, nearly tripping over your own leg. You glanced at your watch, 11:20 pm. Sweet sweet freedom, it was close, so very close you could practically feel it against your fingertips. Yet...something felt wrong, something else was close too, you felt watched but you couldn't hear the buzzing of her flies. Your warm body suddenly felt cold, goosebumps would slowly make itself known. You wanted to look back, you were curious to know who was following you but then again, your mind was already screaming at you to keep running and never look back. She was already on your tail, there was no time to lose. "Oh, you don't know it yet but baby I've already got your heart"

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! 11:50 pm. No! You were so close! You could practically taste freedom but such a thing was out of reach from you as her cold arms would embrace you from the back, keeping you close to her, nowhere to go, nowhere to run, you were all hers. Shit!

"Did you really think you could out run me, my dear?" She purred into your ear, taking the opportunity to nip at your earlobe and drawing out a gasp from you. "Lady Bela p-please..." You managed to mumble out despite the fear coursing through your veins. The blonde chuckled lowly before she spoke, her hands moving to rest on your hip to pull you closer "Already begging? Such a cute little maid you are" she hummed, wasting no time with dragging you to her bedroom.

She pushed you onto the bed, closing the door behind her and locking it before slowly making her away over to where you sat, trembling like a leaf during a thunderstorm as she drew out her sickle. "You're scared yet I can smell the arousal on you. Why is that, hm?" Bela dragged her sickle up your body, starting from your core and slowly making its way to the collar of your uniform "You get off to this don't you? Being chased, your life on the line...what a slut." She growled before hooking her sickle into it as a loud ripping sound disrupted the silence in the room, your uniform ripped right in the middle along with your bra yet there was not even a cut on your skin. "L-Lady Bela...!" You yelped, you were about to protest about your uniform before she just simply cut you off. "There's always more uniforms you can wear, my love" She reassured, pressing the cold blunt edge of the sickle against your exposed nipple as a gasp unintentionally escaped your lips. "As for your bra...I'll just buy you a new one"

"Now strip for me, pretty girl" She cooed, her voice still having that commanding tone in it as she set her sickle down beside her. You shakily moved your hand to slide off your ripped uniform along with your bra, leaving you in nothing but your panties that already had a wet spot making itself present in which the vampire had noticed, her lips curled up into a teasing smirk. "Did I say you could leave your panties on?" She asked, cocking her head to the side. You shook your head before your hands moving to remove the last piece of clothing that restricted Bela's view of what she craved for. "Words, princess. Use your words" She said in which you replied with "No, Lady Bela" you slid your panties off as they landed on the floor with a soft thud followed by a pleased hum by the vampire who was just eyeing you up with no shame in sight "Such a good girl for me..." After what felt like eternity of being eye-fucked, she finally made a move, pushing you by your shoulders and laying you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable.

"My pretty girl, so perfect just for me" She said with a genuine smile as she straddled your hips, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. You moved your hands to rest on her hips, your eyes trailing down her clothed body, admiring how her dress hugged her curves so perfectly. You were in a trance from how beautiful she was, you didn't even notice Bela leaning down until you felt a soft pair of lips on yours, black gods they felt heavenly...the way they moved against yours, it was perfect. You whimpered softly when she bit down on your bottom lip, tugging at it and earning herself a small moan from you before running her tongue along where she had bit. Her hands wandered your body like a blank canvas ready to be painted, thinking of where to start, where to leave her mark. She cupped your breasts with her left hand and massaging it gently. "Fuck, I love you so much" She said after pulling away, a teasing chuckle escaping her lips when you tried to lean back in for another kiss. "Patience, darling"

She soon started peppering kisses along your neck, painting your pure skin with her lovebites, making it clear who you belong to. Her hands would caress every inch of your skin, worshipping you before a sudden sharp pain would take you by surprise, a choked moan forcing its way out of your throat. Her fangs had pierced into your neck, blood trailing down your skin and staining her lips as the blonde moaned lowly at the taste of your blood. "B-bela..!" You would whine out, your hands moving to tangle in her hair and tugging on those soft locks.

"You have no idea how addicted I am to your taste" Bela growled out against your neck once she pulled away, licking at the bite to soothe the pain while also pulling out a small whimper from the girl beneath her. "Fata mea perfecta" She purred, leaving open mouthed kisses along your body as she made her way down. God the way she said it was enough to send a rush of heat straight to your lower region. Her voice was hot, that's for sure but the way it lowered an octave? Fuck, you needed her badly.

"Bela please.." You said, your voice coming out breathless and needy. Bela looked up at you through her lashes, a hum escaping her lips as she flicked her tongue against one of your nipples, making you jolt with a whimper. "Please what, dragă? I told you to use your words, didn't I?" She replied, her other hand moving to massage your left breasts while she wrapped her lips around the other. "F-fuck" You sighed out shakily, your back arching into her before your lips parted to speak "Please, Bela...I want you. I want you so so bad" another whine would escape your lips when she pulled away from your nipple with a soft pop, already missing her touch, craving it.

"You want me to what, princess?" She teased, her free hand reaching for her sickle as she sat up, still straddling your hips that you so desperately tried to buck into her in an attempt to relieve yourself from this burning ache inside you. She only chuckled at your attempt, moving her sickle down your body as she spoke "You have to be more specific, y'know?" Her sickle stopped right on your stomach, applying enough pressure on your skin to draw out that crimson liquid she so wished to drown in.

You let out a pained hiss, squirming beneath her, your thighs pressing together. The sickle in her hand moved with a deliberate grace, carving another cut into your flesh. The pain was sharp, yes, but you couldn't deny the thrill that accompanied it. Seeing her lick the blood that trickled from the wound, maintaining an unwavering gaze, sent a shiver down your spine. Her contented hum with every moan and squeal you made. Each cut she inflicted painted your body in crimson, transforming you into her canvas, a work of art born from pain and ecstasy.

"Fucks sake, Bela p-please I want you so damn bad, I wanna feel you..I want your.." you trailed off, feeling a bit embarrassed yet so damn aroused. You took a deep breath before you spoke with such a nervous tone, it made Bela's heart melt "I want your fingers inside me, I wanna feel your tongue against me...I want you to ruin me" those last words played in Bela's head like a record, you wanted her to ruin you. Something snapped in her and you didn't even know what you had brought upon yourself, she was determined to give you so much pleasure, you'd be begging her to stop with tears in your eyes.

Her eyes deepened into pools of desire, a fiery glimmer reflecting the darkness within as her lips curved into a predatory grin. The thrill of her menacing allure was intoxicating, a dangerous heat that consumed the senses. Her fangs, now more pronounced and gleaming, seemed to promise a bite of forbidden pleasure. These thoughts were eclipsed by the sudden, electrifying sensation of your hands being captured above your head, her sickle embedded in the headboard, its cold edge pressing against your wrists. The slightest twitch and the blade would carve a reminder of her dominance into your skin.

Your lips parted to let out a gasp when you felt Bela's cold hand on your hips, her sharp nails digging deep enough to leave crescent shaped marks in your skin, a whine leaving your lips as her free hand would reach down to rub against your wetness. "S-shit, Bela.." You moaned out breathlessly as your hips bucked into hers. "You're so wet for me, such a desperate little thing, hm?" She purred against your skin, leaning down to press a kiss against the top of your breast before unexpectedly sinking her fangs into the soft skin and drawing out a yelp from you, your inner walls clenching around nothing while the blonde kept feeding from you, her fingers moving to circle around the sensitive bundle of nerve that made your back arch so prettily for her.

"Fuck, please Bela...mmh! I want your fingers inside me, please baby. I need you so damn bad" You begged ever so desperately, you were so needy for her and Bela was more than happy to oblige to your request. Without a warning, she suddenly plunged two digits into your wet cunt, curling her fingers perfectly into your weak point that had you crying out for her and screaming out her name so loudly. "That's it, my love...moan for me" She said, picking the pace of her movements, every thrust hitting just the right spot and drawing out a loud moan from you.

"Such pretty noises you make, what a good girl for me" She whispered, her breath ghosting against your ear as she chuckled at how you could barely even get a word out without cutting yourself off with those sinful noises you make. "Look at you, so desperate for me. Moaning like a fuckin slut" She growled, emphasizing the word "slut" with a hard thrust that made your eyes roll back.

"Oh you like that, don't you? I can feel your cunt tightening around my fingers...you like the thought of being my slut, hm?" She continued, humming in content with the way your hips moved against her fingers and how your moans started getting louder. "You wanna make a mess on my fingers, princess? Wanna scream out my name as you cum for me, hm?" She cooed, her thumb moving to rub your clit, relishing in the way you immediately got tighter around her fingers. "B-bela f-fuck..please please I wanna c-cum so bad! Please o-oh fuck..!" You begged in between choked moans and whines, your hips bucking with every thrust of her digits "That's it, my pretty girl. Cum for me" The second she gave you the permission, your body tensed up and your back arched, your legs shaking as you climaxed with a loud moan of her name while your juices would coat her fingers.

"Such a good girl for me, darling" She praised, gently pulling out her fingers as you shuddered and whined at the empty feeling. "Belaaa.." you whined, desperate for more as she hushed you "Don't worry, my love. I don't plan on stopping anytime soon" She said before bringing up her two wet fingers to her lips before popping them in her mouth, humming in delight as your taste would fill every inch of her senses. "Baby, that's... don't do that, it's embarrassing!" You groaned out, desperately wanting to hide your face right now in embarrassment. She simply chuckled and pulled her fingers out before she spoke "Is it such a bad thing to want to know how my darling girl taste like?" She said despite having tasted you countless times before.

Hours passed, you didn't even know what time it is let alone how many times your girlfriend had brought you to your climax over and over again. First it was one, then two then it moved on to five...and...honestly? You lost count. You were too fucked out, too light headed and exhausted. What was your name again? You forgot to be honest...this was the first time you had ever seen Bela like this and you were not complaining at all. You could barely even think straight with how good her tongue feels against your clit and the way her fingers filled you up so deliciously. Though sometimes, good things gets a bit too much once in a while...you were practically sobbing as she ate you out, not caring that you were overstimulated to the point that even the slightest touch would have you moaning.

"B-bela please! I c-can't! 's too much! F-fuck!" You moaned out, hips bucking into her touch as she responded with a hum that sent vibrations through your whole body, making you throw your head back while she abused your clit with her tongue, her fingers slamming brutally into your g-spot, she had you seeing stars. "Take it, baby. Be a good fuckin whore for me and take it" She growled out against your cunt before going back to eating you out with reckless abandon.

With every thrust of her fingers, a choked moan would leave your lips as tears would roll down your face. With every flick of her tongue against your overly sensitive bundle of nerves, you'd let out a sob mixed with a whine as you struggled to squirm away from her touches. Your hands were kept in place by the sickle, there was no way to even push her away. That familiar knot started to form in your stomach again as you begged "no nonono please plea-please! Too much! T-too-" your words were cut off by the loud moan that clawed it's way out of your throat as you were brought to another mind shattering climax.

Finally satisfied, Bela pulled away. She licked her lips before cleaning your juices from her fingers with a soft moan. "Taste so damn good..." She murmured before moving to remove her sickle lodged into the headboard, finally allowing you freedom. She placed it on the nightstand before shifting on the bed to lay down next to you, pulling your trembling body to lay on top of her, letting your head against her soft breasts, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as her fingers would run through your hair. "Shhh it's okay, I got you baby....you were such a good girl for me, I'm so proud of you" She whispered, her free hand rubbing circles against your back.

"You did so good for me" She continued, occasionally kissing the top of your head. Your eyes started to feel heavy, fatigue taking over you as you soon drifted off to sleep.