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wandamaximoffsbadgirl · 1 month ago

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Taste of Obedience

Dom!Human!Wanda x subby!vampire!reader

Summary: You're a vampire, ancient and obedient, but Wanda? Wanda owns you in every sense. She's human — painfully so — warm, bleeding, alive. And when she lets you sink your fangs into her throat, it’s not just about feeding. It’s devotion. It’s power play. It’s control.

Tonight, she lets you drink. Slowly. Teasingly. But only when and how she says.

Word Count: 3.4K

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, blood drinking (consensual), power imbalance (negotiated, consensual D/s dynamic), dom!Wanda / sub!reader dynamic, possessive language & ownership kink, mild overstimulation, praise kink, post-bite soreness / gentle aftercare, one-sided sleep (reader does not sleep), vampire themes (immortality, fangs, blood), emotional intimacy & codependency undertones

Authors note: I had this idea of a powerful being who wasn't so powerful when it came to Wanda. It flowed so beautifully out of me this morning.

The taste of Wanda’s skin was forbidden fruit.

You weren't allowed to bite — not without permission.

And tonight, permission wasn’t coming easy.

Wanda had you on your knees at her feet, hands folded neatly in your lap, your fangs aching behind your lips. Her body heat was unbearable this close — a furnace radiating against your chilled skin. You could hear her heartbeat, steady and slow, taunting you.

“You’re squirming,” she murmured, tilting your chin up with two fingers. “Something wrong, little fang?”

You swallowed, eyes wide and dark in the candlelight. “I-I need…”

“I know what you need.” Her smile was cruel in the most loving way. “But you don’t get to take it. You earn it.”

Your throat bobbed, the ache to sink your fangs into her pulse point clawing at your control.

Wanda leaned closer, lips brushing your ear. “Say it. What do you want?”

“...To bite,” you whispered, shuddering.

“Say it properly.”

You whined, eyes fluttering closed. “Please, Mistress. Please let me bite. I’ll be good…”

Wanda hummed thoughtfully, trailing her fingers down the side of your throat, letting you feel just how vulnerable she was — how easily she could give you what you craved.

But you belonged to her now. A vampire on a leash. Her pet.

“Maybe,” she said at last, drawing back and straddling your lap, “if you beg pretty enough, I’ll let you have a taste.”

She smiled when your fangs dropped involuntarily.

“Such a hungry little thing.”

Wanda’s thighs cradled your hips as she settled in your lap, warm and commanding. Her fingers threaded lazily through your hair, tugging just enough to remind you who was in control.

Your hands stayed exactly where she expected them — limp at your sides, trembling, even though every part of you screamed to touch her. Your instincts, your hunger, your damnation all thrummed beneath your skin like static.

“You know,” she murmured, her voice syrupy and slow as she rocked her hips forward ever so slightly, “you’re lucky I find this whole pathetic need of yours so… cute.”

You whimpered.

She tilted her head, exposing her throat — just a glimpse of the skin you craved more than blood itself. Then, she grinned and tilted it right back.

“Not yet,” she said sweetly, stroking the line of your jaw. “I want to hear more. Tell me what it does to you, knowing I’m right here — warm, alive, bleeding just under the surface — and you’re not allowed to touch me.”

You blinked fast, fangs pressing hard against your bottom lip. “It hurts, Mistress.”

“I know it does, baby.” She cooed, her nails dragging lightly down your chest. “Hurts here?” One nail traced the space above your heart. “Or here?” She cupped between your thighs just briefly before retreating.

You bucked up into the phantom of her touch, breath catching.

“Both,” you admitted shakily. “Please. Please, I’m so hungry…”

Wanda clicked her tongue, as if scolding a child. “You think I don’t know how hungry you are? I can feel it in you, little bat . The way your whole body hums with it. But want and deserve are two very different things.”

Her hands slid around the back of your neck, nails scratching lightly as she leaned in, her lips ghosting your cheek.

“You’ve bitten me before without asking,” she whispered, her tone sharp with accusation. “You promised you wouldn’t again.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you gasped. “I lost control —”

“And who do you belong to?” she interrupted, pulling back to meet your eyes, her own blazing with intent.

“You,” you breathed. “Always you.”

“That’s right.” She kissed you then — not soft, but claiming. Her tongue slid against yours, and you tasted her spit, her heat, her power. It wasn’t blood, but it was intoxicating. Your nails dug into your thighs to keep from moving.

Her hand suddenly tangled in your hair and yanked your head back, exposing your throat now.

“Say it again.”

“I belong to you.”

Her lips brushed your neck, mimicking what you longed to do.

“You’ll drink when I say so,” she murmured, and you whimpered as she scraped her teeth along your throat in wicked mockery. “Beg one more time, and I’ll think about it.”

You were desperate now, eyes wide and glossy, your voice cracking.

“Please, Mistress. Please let me drink from you. I’m yours. I’ll be good. I’ll be so good. I need it, I need you…”

Her breath hitched — just slightly. Enough to tell you she liked that. Liked hearing you fall apart.

Slowly, deliberately, she shifted in your lap again and drew your face into the crook of her neck. Her pulse was right there. So close. You moaned from the proximity alone.

“Okay,” she said softly. “You’ve earned it.”

Your body went boneless with relief, and just as you began to move in, her fingers threaded through your hair again, tightening hard.

“But,” she added, low and firm, “you bite slow. You drink only when I say. And you stop the second I tell you.”

“Yes, Mistress,” you breathed, barely able to contain yourself. “I promise.”

“Good girl.”

She tilted her head, exposing the smooth, delicate skin of her throat — and finally, finally, she whispered:

“Drink.”

You sank in — slow, reverent. Her blood burst across your tongue like fire and honey, thick with life and heat and Wanda. She let out a soft gasp, her hand stroking the back of your neck, grounding you, guiding you, owning you.

“That’s it, baby,” she whispered. “Take it slow. My good little vampire.”

And you did — because she asked, because she allowed it, and because everything you were belonged to her.

Her blood was everything.

Warm. Sweet. Saturated with her magic and will and humanity — and the taste of her love, because even Wanda’s dominance was affectionate in its own twisted, perfect way.

You drank slow like she asked, fangs buried in her throat, hands shaking where they hovered at her waist. Every instinct screamed to drink deeper, to hold her tighter, to take, but you didn’t. You wouldn’t.

Because she let you.

Because she told you to.

Your arms eased up around her, slow and careful, wrapping her in your embrace without squeezing, without claiming. You never held her too tightly. You couldn’t — wouldn’t — risk hurting her, not even by accident. She was breakable. Human. Yours.

And above all, you were hers.

Wanda stroked your hair lazily, her breathing steady while yours grew rough — not because you needed it, but because it helped, gave you a rhythm to anchor your control.

Her voice broke through the haze: smooth, sharp as a command.

“Stop.”

You froze. Fangs still inside her. Breath stuttering against her skin. Your eyes flew open, wide and frantic. You whimpered against her throat.

But you didn’t move.

Didn’t pull back.

Didn’t drink.

Just… stayed there, trembling, trying so hard to behave.

“Good girl,” she murmured, and her nails scratched softly at the nape of your neck. “Still learning how to behave, but you’re getting there.”

You moaned helplessly. Her blood sang through your mouth, coating your tongue, tempting you even now.

“You can feel it, can’t you?” she whispered. “My heart… still beating. My body, still warm. And you’re so cold, sweet girl. So empty. But you’re not going to take what isn’t given.”

You whimpered again, your mouth still latched to her skin, fangs shaking from restraint.

“You’re going to wait,” she said, hand fisting in your hair. “Because I said so.”

Your arms tightened around her a little more, never enough to bruise, just enough to cling. To say I’m here. I’m listening. I’m yours.

You wanted to sob — from hunger, from devotion, from how badly you needed her to say yes again.

And Wanda — cruel, knowing, amused — nuzzled your temple.

“Breathe for me,” she said softly.

You obeyed, inhaling against her neck, shaky and slow.

“Good. Now exhale. Focus.”

You did.

She waited a moment longer, making sure you really held still, before her hand relaxed in your hair and her breath danced over your ear.

“Start again, baby.”

You made the softest, most broken sound — a breathless gasp of gratitude — and resumed.

Carefully. Worshipfully.

Drinking not because you could, but because she let you.

Wanda sighed, letting herself melt into your lap again, perfectly relaxed, completely safe — despite the predator wrapped around her.

“That’s it,” she murmured, almost teasing. “Nice and slow. My good little monster.”

The moment Wanda said start again, you sank back into her throat like it was the most sacred place in the world.

Because it was.

The pull was slow, gentle — reverent. You obeyed to the letter, but you couldn’t stop the little whines in your throat. Each swallow made your hands tremble, your mind quiet, your whole world narrow to the pulse beneath your tongue.

And Wanda was feeling it.

She shifted in your lap, grinding herself against the firm line of your thigh. A sharp gasp left her lips — small, but real.

You knew this rhythm. This body.

You knew what your bite did to her. How her blood ran hotter the deeper you drank. How the pain mixed with pleasure until it blurred into a fever in her skin. You felt her magic flicker beneath her skin like a lit match waiting to catch.

Her fingers tightened in your hair.

“Fuck,” she breathed out, voice cracking.

That wasn’t just arousal — that was need.

You moaned against her, eyes fluttering shut. Her hips rolled again, slow but purposeful, chasing the friction.

“You don’t get to move,” she managed, voice strained. “Don’t… fuck, don’t you dare help me.”

You obeyed. Not a single thrust back. Not a grind. But you held her, arms locked around her back, anchoring her to you as she used your thigh, your body, her vampire.

Her pet.

Her source of pleasure, and pain, and everything between.

She buried her face in your hair as her noises grew more desperate — soft, gasping moans with every twist of her hips.

The taste of her deepened. Darkened. You could feel her heartbeat in your tongue now, rapid and erratic, responding to the heat building between her legs.

You held still like she asked. Even as her nails bit your shoulders. Even as she shook a little in your arms.

“Fuck, baby…” she whispered, her voice almost cracking into a whimper. “You have no idea what you do to me…”

But you did.

You knew.

You’d tasted her blood a hundred times. You felt how deep the reaction went. How intimately her body tied pain to pleasure — how even the softest feed left her breathless and shaky in your arms.

You knew her tells: the magic buzzing at her fingertips, the hitch in her breath when your fangs scraped just right, the way her thighs tightened around you as she fought to keep control.

And she was losing it.

Because even though you were the one kneeling, trembling, biting her throat — she was the one unraveling.

Her hips jerked once, rhythm faltering, and she let out a helpless little moan, high and sharp.

Your breath caught.

Wanda swore under her breath and grabbed your jaw, yanking your head back just enough to pull you off her neck. Blood painted your lips, and you blinked up at her, dazed and starved.

She looked wrecked.

Flushed cheeks. Wild hair. Lips parted.

“Don’t you dare look smug,” she growled, but her voice was shaking. “That wasn’t permission to get cocky.”

You nodded, wide-eyed, blood slicking your mouth.

“I wasn’t,” you whispered. “I swear, Mistress.”

She glared — then kissed you hard, her tongue licking into your mouth, tasting her own blood off your lips with a hungry groan.

“I’m not done with you,” she breathed against your mouth. “Not even close.”

And you believed her.

Because you’d barely scratched the surface of what Wanda Maximoff could do with a trembling vampire wrapped around her finger.

Wanda was breathless, flushed, and trembling slightly when she pulled back from your blood-slick mouth.

Still straddling you. Still in control.

You were hers — panting, fangs aching, lips red from the taste of her. And when she reached down and tugged your shirt up and over your head, you let her, limbs pliant and obedient.

“Sit still,” she ordered, and you did.

She pulled your bra off slowly, watching the way your chest rose and fell in anticipation, her eyes flickering with heat. Her fingers grazed your skin — barely there — and still you shivered like she'd burned you.

“You don’t get to touch me,” she said, voice dark and low as her hands slid down your body. “You hold me. You feed from me. But you don’t fuck me unless I say.”

“Yes, Mistress,” you whispered, voice trembling.

Wanda rocked her hips again, harder this time, and your hands flew to her waist — not to move her, just to hold. Steady. Supportive. Worshipful.

She ground down harder, chasing friction against your thigh through the thin fabric of her panties. She wasn’t hiding the way she moaned now, short and sharp, every breath dripping heat as her fingers dug into your shoulders.

“This is mine,” she whispered, dragging her nails down your chest. “All of you. Even this need you think I don’t see. I own it. You don’t come until I do.”

You whimpered.

She rolled her hips again — and again — soaking the front of your jeans, her body pulsing with magic that sparked against your skin, fraying the edges of your control. But you held firm, nails pressing into your own thighs to keep from moving. From begging.

From doing anything but what she let you.

Wanda's moans grew louder, less composed. Her head fell to your shoulder, teeth grazing the skin where you’d bitten her earlier.

And then — a shudder, a breath held too long — her whole body jerked once, and a loud, broken sound fell from her lips as she came against you.

It was messy. Slow. Her body shaking in your arms, hips twitching as she rode it out, panting into your neck like you were the one keeping her grounded.

You were.

Your arms were wrapped tight around her. Not possessive — never that. But protective. Present. The kind of hold that said: I’ve got you. Take what you need. I’m yours.

Wanda slumped into you, chest heaving, and for a long moment, neither of you moved. You felt her heartbeat against your skin, rapid and erratic and human.

You kissed her temple softly, lips stained red.

Only then did she pull back and cup your cheek.

“Still with me, sweetheart?”

You nodded, eyes hazy, every nerve humming with the weight of her.

She smiled — tired and wicked and full of something soft.

“You did so well,” she whispered. “So good for me.”

Your throat bobbed. “Thank you, Mistress.”

Wanda slipped off your lap and gently pushed you back onto the couch. Her fingers made quick work of your jeans, and before you could protest — or beg — she was between your thighs, her hand pressing flat against your center through your soaked underwear.

“Now,” she said, her voice like velvet. “Now you get to come.”

You came fast — embarrassingly fast — hips bucking up into her hand as she rubbed tight, practiced circles over your clit. All the blood, all the restraint, all the tension that had built up through obedience and denial crashed through you in a wave.

And Wanda watched, chin propped on your thigh, grinning like the smug devil she was.

“God, you’re pretty when you fall apart,” she murmured.

You whimpered, back arching, thighs trembling, and then — finally — you collapsed.

Spent.

Full.

Shaking.

Safe.

Wanda didn’t rush the come-down. She climbed back into your lap, straddling you again — this time to soothe, not to take. She cradled your face, pressing kisses to your cheeks, your brow, the corner of your mouth.

“Easy, baby,” she whispered. “I’ve got you.”

You clung to her, still panting despite the fact that your lungs didn’t need to. Your whole body ached in the best way.

She cleaned the blood from your chin with her fingers and pressed them into your mouth to suck.

“There’s my good girl,” she murmured. “Took it so well. You always do.”

You leaned into her, eyes fluttering shut, resting your forehead to hers.

Her hand stroked your hair. “You did everything I asked.”

You nodded.

“And when I told you to stop, you stopped.”

Another nod. A tiny, broken sound of pride caught in your throat.

Wanda kissed you once — soft, slow, grateful.

“You’re mine,” she whispered. “Every inch of you. Forever.”

And you were.

Wanda was the one who moved first, even though her body was still shaky and her thighs still pressed damp against your jeans.

“Come on,” she murmured, cupping your jaw with one hand and pressing a final kiss to your lips. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You went with her without question, clinging just a little as she guided you to the bathroom. She chuckled softly, arm around your waist.

“You always get like this after,” she teased, voice warm. “Like a baby bat stuck to me.”

You nuzzled your face into her hair, still overwhelmed, still grounded in her scent.

She bathed you both gently — hands slow, steady, not teasing anymore. She peeled away your ruined clothes and held you under the warm spray of the shower, fingers stroking your back, humming softly under her breath.

It soothed the leftover trembles in your limbs.

She washed your hair like you were precious. Like she liked doing this for you. She always did — insisted on it, really.

And afterward, she dressed you in soft pajamas — one of her oversized shirts and a pair of cotton shorts you couldn’t remember stealing but were definitely yours now. She dressed herself in a robe, loose and cozy, and tugged you by the hand into the kitchen.

Wanda didn’t even give you the chance to ask. She pulled a sealed container of blood from the fridge and handed it over wordlessly, then turned to fix something for herself.

You sat on the edge of the counter, sipping slowly, still a little floaty. Your fangs had finally retracted, but your gums were sore. That always happened when you drank too slowly.

She glanced over and frowned. “Still tender?”

You nodded.

Without saying a word, she pulled out one of her freezer packs and wrapped it in a dish towel. She pressed it gently to your cheek, right where your jaw was clenched.

You leaned into it with a soft sound of gratitude.

Wanda made herself a grilled cheese — extra sharp cheddar, exactly the way she liked it — and slid it onto a plate. She only ate half before she offered you a bite.

You hesitated, but took it when she gave you that look — the one that said let me care for you back, dummy.

When you were both fed and warm and finally calm, she took your hand again and led you back to the bed. She crawled in first, reaching for the blanket, but stopped when you climbed in behind her and pulled her gently into your arms.

“You need sleep,” you whispered against her hair.

“You need rest,” she murmured back.

“I don’t sleep.”

“I know,” she said, already burrowing into your chest. “I just like saying it.”

You held her close, your arms wrapped around her waist, your chin tucked over her head.

Wanda let out the softest sigh — barely a breath — and her whole body relaxed in your hold.

It was the only time she ever went limp like that. Only after you fed. Only when her magic quieted and her body was wrung out and her heart beat a little slower in her chest. That was when she let herself be small. Tired. Human.

You didn’t need to breathe, but you did anyway — slow and steady, chest rising with hers. You liked matching her rhythm. It made her feel less alone.

Her fingers twitched against your shirt. “Still with me?”

“Always,” you murmured.

She hummed. “You’re mine.”

“Yours,” you agreed, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Always.”

She drifted not long after, body warm and boneless against yours.

You stayed still.

You never moved while she slept. She hated waking up alone.

So you stayed — watching the way her lashes fluttered against her cheek, the way her lips parted slightly, how utterly soft she looked when all the sharpness faded from her face.

Powerful, fierce, brilliant Wanda — sleeping safe in your arms.

Yours to protect.

Hers to belong to.

You didn’t need sleep.

You had everything you needed right here.

#ley writes #ley writes one shots #wanda maximoff x natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #dom!wanda maximoff #subby!reader #vampire!reader #human!wanda #dom!wanda maximoff x subby!reader #tw blood #cw blood #bl00d kink #bl00d play #blood k!nk

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ice-man-goes-bwoah · 2 months ago

Note

remmick x reader on her period 🫠

Crimson Worship||Remmick x Reader

Warnings: Period sex (oral), blood kink, vampire themes, explicit smut, praise, slight possessiveness, intense intimacy vampire x human, explicit content

MDNI +18

A/n— for the future all smut requests go to @faithsmadhouse

You were sure he’d smell it the second he walked in—the subtle shift in your scent, the unmistakable copper warmth that clung to the air. You tried to keep the blanket wrapped tightly around your waist, curled on the couch like you hadn’t just come back from changing a bloodied pad.

But of course, he knew. He always did.

Remmick lingered in the doorway, eyes glowing faintly in the low light of your apartment. His nostrils flared as he took a slow inhale, tongue flicking across the edge of a fang. His voice was velvet-dark.

“You bleeding for me, sweetheart?”

You flushed. “Not for you. Just… basic biology. Unfortunately.”

He chuckled low in his chest and crossed the room in two strides. He knelt in front of you, hands braced on your thighs, blanket slipping away with a gentle tug. You stiffened.

“Remmick—”

“You think I care?” His voice dipped, barely a whisper. “You think blood ever made me shy?”

You looked away. “It’s messy.”

“So am I.”

His hands were warm, but his eyes were molten. You’d never seen someone look at you like that like you were everything. Even now. Especially now.

“Lay back,” he murmured.

You obeyed, slowly. He helped guide you down onto the couch cushions, his lips trailing reverent kisses up the inside of your thighs. His breath fanned against the damp cotton of your panties, and when he tugged them down, he made no effort to hide the guttural sound in his throat.

“God, look at you,” he growled. “So sweet. So ripe.”

You whimpered, heat rushing through your core at his words—words that would’ve embarrassed you from anyone else. But this was Remmick. Your vampire. Your dark, dangerous, all-consuming lover.

He dipped his head, dragging his tongue through your folds with slow, devastating intent. You cried out, hips arching, but he pinned you gently with a hand across your stomach.

“Easy,” he breathed. “Let me taste you.”

And he did.

He devoured you.

Blood and slick and everything in between he lapped it up like a man starved, growling low against your core, teeth brushing just enough to make you shudder. His nose nuzzled against your mound, his tongue flicking and curling and drinking from you like you were a sacred altar.

You buried your hands in his hair, moaning his name, legs trembling.

“You taste like fucking heaven,” he rasped between strokes. “Don’t ever hide this from me. Don’t ever think I’d turn away from your blood.”

You whimpered, thighs clenching around his head as his tongue circled your clit, slow and punishing. He held you open with bloodstained fingers, licking you through each wave of pleasure, humming as you cried out, hips stuttering.

And when you came trembling, gasping, wreckedhe didn’t stop. Not right away. He kissed your thighs, your belly, your trembling knees. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand but licked it clean afterward, eyes dark and soft.

“You were made for me,” he whispered, curling beside you. “Every part of you. Even this.”

You blinked through the haze of afterglow and saw the crimson smeared across his mouth like warpaint. And somehow, you felt beautiful.

His lips skimmed your inner thigh, hovering just above the pulse fluttering wildly beneath the skin. You were still trembling, your body barely recovering from the orgasm he’d already pulled from you with his mouth, but you knew what he wanted.

What you wanted too.

“May I?” he asked, voice dark and velvet-soft.

You nodded, breath hitching. “Please.”

He didn’t make you wait. His mouth sealed over the tender skin, and for a single heartbeat there was only warmth — Then the bite.

Fangs sank in, sharp and perfect, and you cried out—not from pain, but from the overwhelming rush of it. The pull. The heat. The way your nerves seemed to light up all at once like he’d sunk his teeth into the deepest part of you.

“God—the bite,” you gasped, eyes fluttering. “It always feels… fuck—too good—”

And it was. Too good. You tried to breathe through it, tried to anchor yourself—but your body had other plans.

Pleasure hit you like a wave. Sudden. Unstoppable.

You came again soaked and shaking, thighs clenching around his shoulders, a strangled moan tearing from your throat as your back arched off the couch. The release flooded through you, sharp and blinding, centered around the place his fangs still gripped you, as if your body was wired to respond to him that way. To need it.

He groaned low in his throat, drinking deep, the sound vibrating against your thigh. You swore you could feel it everywhere.

When he finally pulled back, blood staining his lips, his expression was raw with hunger and awe.

“You came,” he said, voice hoarse. “From the bite.”

You nodded weakly, breathless, completely undone. “You know what it does to me.”

He smirked, almost reverent. “I’ll never get tired of watching your body give in to me.”

Then softer, his fingers brushing your cheek, his tone turning tender:

“You were made for this. For me.”

You collapsed into his arms, boneless and safe, heart still hammering. The bite throbbed sweetly on your thigh, but there was no pain just the lingering ache of being seen, fed on, loved in the most intimate way possible.

And in the aftermath, as he curled around you with blood-warm kisses and quiet praise, you knew one thing for sure: You’d let him do it again.

#remmick x reader #remmick smut #remmick sinners #remmick #sinners movie #sinners 2025 #remmick x you #Remmick x y/n #Remmick x fem!reader

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notapradagurl7 · 2 months ago

Text

Good Ol’ Lovin’.

Black Fem! Plus Size Reader x Elijah “Smoke” Moore.

Summary: Besides working early mornings and late nights in your mother’s store with your sister, Asia. You decided to enjoy your day off with Smoke.

A/N: I’ve finally write about Sinners, and finally saw the movie! It's amazing, Hope you enjoy. 😌 don’t forget to reblog, comment and like to support, remember don’t be afraid to send in a request they’re always open.

Warnings: sensual dancing, jealousy, life in 1932, fluff, kissing, mention of violence, a pinch mention of racism, spanking, mention of hoodoo, dirty talk, filth, fingering, mention of vampires, use of the n-word, cursing, use of AAVE, doesn't follow the flim’s timeline, possessive!Smoke, consensual intimacy.

Taglist: @megamindsecretlair @satoruya @planetblaque

@playgurlxoxo @dabratzchronicles

@becauseimswagman1

@araybiaaa @beenathembo @brattyfics

@hxneyclouds @yassbishimvintage

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @ovohanna24

@novahreign @writingsbytee @avoidthings @kimuzostar @slippinninque @keyera-jackson @theblacklewinsky

@euphorichappiness10 @life-in-the-slut-house @blkgirlsneedlove2 @ranikyani

@uniqueoutlierblog @mama-2001

@fakxmbj @kaylalb @theereinawrites @uzumaki-rebellion @blyffe @kumkaniudaku @luckydaye777 @that-one-anxious-mango @rose-bliss @kindofaintrovert

—————-

In the deep South, where the air is rich with the earthy scent of damp soil and the distant sound of tractors rumbling over vast fields fills the space, a wave of life and labor unfolded before you.

Your gaze was drawn irresistibly to the twins, moving in perfect synchrony as they walked side by side, each lifting heavy wooden boxes with their bare hands.

Their muscles glistened with sweat, rippling beneath their sun-kissed brown skin, while subtle grunts escaped their lips, echoing the effort of their work.

A small church painted in snow-white was nestled in the land, you could hear the choir singing psalms of worship.

There wasn't a time when the pastor always called those to come to join hands in prayer and asked those to be saved, forming a circle under the ancient oak tree that shaded half the gathering.

You only focused on your work in your mom’s store, and her greenhouse, it kept the house afloat, and bills paid, yet worry settled in her that she was going to work herself into the ground.

She whispered prayers on quiet nights, confessing fears of someday not being able to lift her hands or stand for hours on end to God. She brought you and your sister to work alongside her.

Sunlight spewed through the clean windows, and casted warm golden rays that hovered across the wooden floors. Biting your lip, distraction and admiration swelling within you, as you slowly reached into the box, pulling out a book.

The simple task of organizing your mother’s store became an afterthought, your mind drifting away from the mundane and onto the twin brothers who worked their toward their farm.

The identical twins Smoke and Stack caught your attention as soon as they arrived back in Mississippi. You could hardly believe they were back after years spent working for Al Capone. They purchased a sawmill from a bigoted landowner and chose to open their own farm.

It hasn't been a popular topic ever since; you've known them for so long that the exact time escapes you. You were a close friend of both, and occasionally, others questioned why they picked you. when trouble seemed to follow them sometimes.

The twins knew that you were a working woman, trying to keep the boat afloat. But you had your eyes on Smoke, not Stack.

Stack wanted to get an exorcism on him after what happened with Mary, once it was, he felt free of her venom, her evil spell.

A hoodoo from Annie helps Smoke in ways only whispered about—dark, uncanny ways. He was able to sleep at night.

The juke joint was no longer in business ever since that night. It became nothing more than a forgotten memory, a chapter in the town's history shrouded in mystery.

All you knew of them was that weren't married, no kids. It was only business, and money.

Your sister Asia, wasn’t the one to catch you slipping from doing the simple tasks at work but this time she got lucky.

“Y/N! What is wrong with’chu? Mama doesn’t want us foolin’ around in the store!” Asia yelled, her hand on her hip.

You almost flinched from her voice, but didn’t move an inch. You sighed lowly before placing the books inside the empty spaces in the bookshelf.

“I’m just gettin’ a lil’ distracted, that’s all Asia,” You shot back, your tone filled with annoyance, you grabbed another box of books and ripped it open.

You spent your early mornings and late nights alongside your sister Asia in your mother's shop, selling books, agricultural products, and various essential items for farm life.

Aisa scoffed at you, clearly unimpressed by your words. She definitely knew about your feelings for Smoke.

“Please tell me that you ain’t lookin’ Smoke’s way, he’s trouble.”

“I would be lyin” if I said I wasn’t sista.” You chuckled lightly, placing your

You fixed the hem of your black dress with red roses plastered on them, until you spotted Smoke toward the store.

You hurried your way to the counter, and pushed your sister to the side, while she gave you a skeptical glare.

Smoke sauntered in, his charm unmistakable even in the dim afternoon light filtering through the window.

"Good afternoon, ladies," Smoke drawled, tipping his hat with a sly smile.

Asia crossed her arms, arching an eyebrow, clearly waiting for you to speak first. You cleared your throat and finally spoke up, “Good afternoon Smoke,”

“What would you like to buy today?” You brought up, holding your hand behind your back to stop them from shaking.

His eyes deep brown eyes gleamed with mischief as they settled on yours. "I'm hoping to trade for some new seeds," he said, leaning casually on the counter.

“Oh! I know just what you need! Here are some of the best tomato seeds we have.” You replied back, You reached under the counter, producing a small burlap sack with a flourish.

You passed the sack to him, while he passed a bundle of dollar bills back to you, his fingers brushing yours. “Thank you, but it’s too much money,” you stammered, trying to return some of the cash.

Smoke shook his head, his smile widening. "Nah, keep the change. Ya'll already work yo’ tails off in this sto’, you deserve it. Besides the fact that this is my favorite place,” he added, taking in the surroundings as if he were seeing them anew.

Heat raised in your cheeks once you pulled your hand away, feeling a wave of nervousness. It wasn't every day that a customer, especially someone like Smoke, made you feel so noticed.

“Thank you, Elijah,”

You watched him walk out of the store and give you a wink, and you've finally looked back at your sister, “Don't give me that look, I know that you're fond of him, I'm sure he feels the same,” she spoke up.

“I'm gonna take a day off, tell mama that I'll be back in time for supper.” You said, grabbing your bag from under the counter.

Asia watched you with a knowing grin while shaking her head, she was happy for you but you left to do all the work, she was gonna have to make up a good excuse for this one. But you needed a break from that store, running a business was already stressful enough.

“Hey, Elijah!”

The twin brothers turned around you, giving that devious smirk and Smoke spoke up first. “Yeah?”

“I was hopin’ that we could spend some time together?”

He couldn't help but smile wider, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. “Of course, I would love to court you this afternoon. Just tell me where you'd like to go, and I'll make it happen.”

Stack eyed you up and down, the curve of your ass, the dress hugging your body perfectly, Smoke’s eyes lingered after his brother's. “I understand why you want to hang back at the store,” Stack teased, catching your eye.

“Back off, nigga she's mine, you were just freed of the white devil,” Smoke shot back in a whisper.

Stack rolled his eyes, sighing after what he said, “That don't mean I lost sight of this beauty right here,”

“Back up and I mean that shit,” Smoke shot back, his tone laced with anger.

“A’ight, a nigga will back off,”

You walked up toward Smoke with a smile, feeling the tension between the brothers dissipate as you focused on him. “Let’s just go somewhere fun. I’ve been cooped up in that store for too long.”

Smoke’s expression softened, and he nodded. “I know just the place. The old riverbank is quiet this time of day. We can sit, talk, and maybe even dance a little if the mood strikes.”

“Dance? You think you can keep up with me?” you teased, your heart racing at the thought of being alone with him.

“Oh, I know I can,” he replied, his voice frim and confident.

You both made your way to the riverbank, the sun casting a golden hue over everything. The sound of water lapping against the shore mixed with the chirping of cicadas, the two of you sat down underneath a big oak tree.

As he pulled a thick soft woolen blanket, you settled down on it, you felt the weight of the world lift off your shoulders. “This is nice,” you said, looking out over the water.

“Yeah, it is, But it’s even nicer with you here.” Smoke agreed, his gaze fixed on you.

You felt your cheeks heat up again, and you looked away, trying to hide your smile. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nah, I mean it. You’re special to me, Y/N. Always have been,” he said, moving closer.

His honesty caught you off guard. “I…I feel the same way, Smoke. But it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how?” he pressed, his voice dropping to a whisper as he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin.

You hesitated, your heart racing. “You know how people talk. About you and Stack. About the trouble that follows you.”

Smoke chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Let them talk. They don’t know us. They don’t know what we’ve been through. I’m not that man anymore. I’m here for you, not for the past.”

You looked into his deep brown eyes, searching for any hint of insincerity, but all you found was warmth and sincerity. “You really mean that?”

“More than anything, I came back for you,” he said, his voice firm.

You felt a rush of emotions as you leaned in closer, your lips almost touching. “Then why don't you show me?”

Smoke wasted no time, closing the distance and crashing his lips into yours.

The kiss was soft at first, but it quickly deepened, igniting a fire within you that had long been dormant. Your lips sliding across his, feeling his soft hands cradle your face as he pulled you closer.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. “Wow,” you whispered, your heart racing.

“Yeah, wow,” Smoke echoed, a playful grin spreading across his face. “I could get used to this.”

“Me too, but what about Stack?” you admitted, feeling bold.

“Stack can handle himself. This is about us,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’ll always protect what’s mine.”

You smiled, feeling a sense of belonging wash over you. “And what if I’m not ready for all that?”

“Then we take it slow,” he replied, brushing your box braids behind your ear.

You laughed softly, the sound echoing in the quiet space. “Slow is good too.”

He kissed you again before peppering kissing along the crook of your neck, with his hands on the small of your back, you squirmed in your seat and your breathing became hollow. “E-Elijah, I...I want you so much,”

He kissed the shell of your ear, feeling the warmth flow through you causing your clit to throb. His cupped your ass roughly, the soft flesh made him groan lowly, and his length hardened in his pants. “I want you more than you ever know darlin’, fuck,”

“W-wait, we're outside, someone might see us,” You whispered, your eyes darting through the small riverback.

“Would you like to go somewhere private, baby?”

“Yes, You really are trouble?”

Maybe a little trouble from him wasn't so bad, but the two of you standing up from the blanket, he picked it up and folded it in his hands. You and Elijah walked onto the small bridge that led to his house.

The cool night breeze carried the scent of fresh earth and blooming wildflowers, and grabbed your hand. He led you toward the front door of brown lumber, he fished out the keys and unlocked the door with a swift flick.

He opened the front door for you as you stepped inside the cozy living room, closing the door behind you. He twisted the lock, and followed behind

“My room is on the left, sweetheart.” He guided you, his voice raised an octave with a hint of rasp in it.

As you walked the hallways, seeing pictures of Smoke and Stack when they were younger, their mom between them hugging them tighter. You heard the story of their father

Whew, that's southern twang with that voice of his made your pussy throb. Carefully fanning yourself with a shaky exhale, his arms wrapped around your waist and peppered kisses along your neck. You sighed blissfully before kissing him back, a wave of heat washed over you.

Both of your clothes littered across the bedroom floor, the sound of lips coliiding filling the room, soft moans from you were music to his ears.

Smoke dragged his dick toward you, halting at your wet pussy, and he slid hismself into you, as you moaned at the size of him. “fuck..” you dragged out in a moan, pushing your hips with him.

He started off with deep, long thrusts, focusing on that sweet spot that you squirm underneath him. The sound of skin-to-skin slapping together echoed in the room and your arm wrapped around him. “So fucking goodd..” you whimpered, legs shaking.

You kept him close to you, This moment was perfect and you were with him, “That pussy is still tight, and wet huh?” he teased, lifting you onto his lap.

You rode him with such skill, as his hand smacked your ass once more, “Answer me,” You were unable to respond, your moans sounded like gibberish. Everything in you was telling you to release already, but you wanted more.

Blinking away tears from the pleasure, “Yess..” you trailed off, kissing his shoulder. He made sure you felt the love through every thrust, eliciting moans. His dick kissing that sweet spot of yours, eyes rolling back. Giving you everything all at once.

The way he fucked you so good made you see the heavens, hands clenching the sheets. “You drive me wild, baby, don't you feel the love I'm givin’ you?” He said, thrusting deeper. You did feel it, every single time, you were a wet babbling mess, he smirked at the mess that was made in his lap, biting his lip.

A knot tightening in your stomach letting you know that your climax was here, bodies quaking. Without saying a word, you came undone, your essence pouring out on his dick, while squirting on his abdomen. “Damn, girl.” he groaned lowly.

Bodies collapsed beside each other, panting heavily replaced with laughter. He turned his face to you while you looked his way, “You good, sweetheart?” he asked in concern, his thumb swiping over your cheek.

“Yeah, I'm good, let’s clean up,” you panted heavily, smirking at him. Feeling a wave of happiness wash over you.

After that, the two of you took showers, getting dressed and he drove you back home. As he kissed you goodnight, you knew that this was the beginning of you and him, something magical.

————-

#black!reader #black fanfiction #stack and smoke #sinners movie #sinners #black writer #tumblr #michaelbaejordan #michealbjordan #sinners fic #sinners 2025 #sinners fanfiction #black!fem!reader

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littlejuicebox · 1 year ago

Text

You'll stay still, won't you, little love?

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x F!Reader/Tav

Summary/Setting: Sometime in the beginning of Act 3; you and Astarion are exploring intimacy/sex

Rating/Warnings: M+ / 18+ only please/ Smut with little to no plot / Light BDSM / Soft Dom Astarion vibes / Some mild in game spoilers / PiV / CW / fingering / teasing and overstim if you squint / not beta read or edited too much

Word Count: 2.2K

A/N: I'm a degenerate, idk what else to tell you guys. I’m shocked this came out of my brain, but here we are. Enjoy or be totally flabbergasted or avoid it entirely I don’t know about you all but I simultaneously want to do all three. 💀

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You suspected Astarion enjoyed exploring intimacy with you, perhaps more than he thought he would. The first few weeks after his confession at Moonrise Towers resulted in a rather chaste arrangement between the two of you. Days were filled with stolen pecks and occasional hand holding between missions; nights were spent mostly cuddling half-naked or sometimes simply making out.

When a situation became particularly heated, he would always break away, panting. The flush on his face and the thrumming of his undead heart told you he enjoyed these moments, and his erection pressing into you always became quite the distraction.

Gods, how badly you wanted more. But you had to force yourself to pull back and allow him to take the lead, never pushing further than he was willing to give.

For a few weeks, a bit of grinding and caressing above the waist was as far as Astarion would advance. But shortly after leaving the Shadowlands, something within the silver-haired elf changed. He’d become quite intent on exploring your body almost every night, putting his masterful fingers and tongue to work, almost desperate to watch you come undone.

“You don’t have to, Astarion,” You pant one evening, after a few weeks of nearly daily interactions quite similar to this one. The rogue was working his nimble fingers inside the edge of your small clothes, aiming to delve into your already soaking folds. The bulge of his cock, barely covered by his own underwear, pressed against your rear as he slowly rocked his hips into you.

“I know, my love,” He murmurs, removing his mouth from where it had been tenderly suckling your neck. The vampire licks along the fresh love bite, eliciting a little whimper of pleasure from you. And then he smirks as his fingers find the already engorged bundle of nerves between your legs, causing you to instinctively buck toward him with a whine, “But I want to. I quite like the pretty little sounds you make for me, you know.”

He continues his ministrations for a few moments, reveling in your desperate keens. Nothing else stroked Astarion’s ego quite like this.

“Darling, I’d like to try something different tonight, if you don’t mind.” He purrs as his fingers change their rhythm from the languid circles over your clit to gentle, teasing strokes between your folds. The rogue’s hand dips just enough to tease your entrance with two digits before he retracts again, leaving you mewling in frustration.

You need more. He knows it. And he aimed to give you more tonight, but he couldn’t resist the opportunity to toy with you for a moment or two.

“What is it, Astarion?” You ask breathlessly, as he pauses his movements entirely. You whine again and then turn your head to look at the rogue, where he is smirking down at you, clearly enjoying the desperation he’s elicited from his lover. You are caught between his cock and his hand, slowly rolling your hips back and forth, practically begging the silver-haired elf to fuck you with his fingers.

“I want you to come on my cock tonight.” He responds, arching his eyebrow just slightly, a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “If that’s what you want, my sweet.”

Your eyes widen in shock, and you swear you feel yourself grow more slick at the mere suggestion. You lick your lips, attempting to moderate your own excitement, trying to avoid making him feel obligated in any way. Astarion’s fingers have resumed their teasing movements, and the newly found wetness causes the vampire to chuckle in delight.

“Judging by the slickness of your perfect little cunt, that certainly is what you want. Am I correct, love?” He purrs into your ear, fangs grazing against your lobe as he rolls his growing erection toward your ass once again.

“Y-yes,” You gasp, and as soon as you do, Astarion rips your underwear from your body before tossing the ruined undergarment across the tent.

“Then you will get what you want on one condition, darling.” He continues, and you feel the engorged head of his cock stroking between your folds from behind. The sensation makes you shiver in delight; you desire nothing more than to have him buried inside you.

“What is it?” You ask, instinctively rolling your hips back against him again, moaning when his length rubs against your clit.

Astarion grabs your hip firmly, digging his nails into the side of your ass and ceasing your movements entirely. You whine and then he’s practically laughing in your ear, you can feel how entertained he is by your predicament. He places a tender kiss on your neck before he purrs, “You aren’t allowed to move one bit, sweet girl, or else I will pull out and leave you with nothing.”

You groan in dismay at this stipulation, “Astarion! I don’t- I don’t know if I can hold still.”

“Oh but my love, the choices are simple,” He continues, his voice playfully condescending as his other hand wanders up to lightly tease a nipple, ripping another little moan from you, “You can either be filled by my cock or by my fingers. So which will it be?”

You whine as the male elf uses one hand to stimulate your breast and the other to barely plunge into your sex again.

“Your cock!” You cry, unable to contain yourself any further, “I want your cock.”

Astarion chuckles, quite content with this response. He slides his erection between your folds again, using your arousal to lubricate his length, “And you’ll stay still, won’t you, little love?”

“Yes, I won’t move,” You agree, and this earns you a delighted groan from the vampire. He reveled in the power dynamics of your coupling, and your willingness to surrender control in the bedroom.

“Good girl,” He coos, and then he’s pressing himself into the entrance of your sex. You moan as the head of his rock-hard cock stretches your cunt; there is a bit of resistance at first; it’s been several weeks since more than two fingers have been inside you, after all.

He takes you inch by inch, slowly dragging himself along your velvet walls. Before long, Astarion’s length has filled you completely, and you’re basking in the sensation of being stretched by your lover.

His breath is ragged behind you as he struggles to remain in control, almost entirely overcome with the desire to simply have his way with you. But that’s not the game tonight, he reminds himself.

In one swift motion he’s rolled you both so that you are straddled over him, your back pressed to his chest. He uses his knees to spread your legs wide, fully opening you up for his seasoned hands to explore. His long fingers drag over your stomach and then travel down between your legs, where they easily find that sensitive nub.

“How does it feel to be sitting atop my cock, darling?” Astarion asks as he slowly, teasingly strokes his slender fingers up and down on your drenched folds. You are seeping arousal at this point, coating him with his well-deserved reward. His cock throbs at the thought.

“Wonderful,” You respond, honestly but breathlessly as you struggle to keep yourself from rolling your hips at all. Your legs are positively shaking with the effort to exert such control, and the little tremors running along your spine are urging the vampire on.

Astarion guides your own hand up to your breasts, where he urges you to tease your own nipple. He palms the flesh of the other breast in one hand as he continues to drag his nimble fingers around your throbbing bud.

You are instinctively clenching around him now, your body desperate to milk every ounce of seed from the vampire. Astarion himself is shaking with the amount of restraint it’s taking him to not lift his hips and fuck up into your warmth.

You cannot restrain yourself any longer, your hips buck and you’re instantly rewarded with the delicious sensation of Astarion’s length running against your walls. But then a sharp, stinging smack singes the side of your ass, and a shocked gasp escapes your lips.

“What did I say, darling? Be a good girl and hold still. Try that again and I will pull out.” The rogue warns while speeding up his efforts on your clit.

You sharply pinch your own nipple, trying desperately to keep yourself from moving any more. But gods, how badly you want to. You’re so close. Your walls are clenching tighter and tighter, and the sensation is causing Astarion to grunt in response. He’s trying just as desperately to hold back as you quiver around him, tempting him to do the exact opposite.

His hips buck just once before he regains control and stills himself, but gods the walls of your tight pussy wrapped around him felt divine. The sharp thrust made you moan loudly in delight, and your entire body was shivering from the self-control you were using to hold still. He felt you standing on the precipice of pleasure, so close to the edge. You just needed a little push to fall into a world of ecstasy, and that, he could provide.

“Let go, little love. Come for me,” He whispers hoarsely, and the command sends you tumbling over the edge. You feel the wave crashing over you, rippling through your sex and up to your spine. You clasp your hand over your mouth as you whine, signaling your release.

You are mid-orgasm when Astarion roughly grabs both sides of your hips and hisses, “Fuck it.”

And then he’s thrusting upwards, repeatedly burying himself inside you, intent on fucking you through the second half of your orgasm. You cry out in pleasure as the vampire moans into the side of your neck, continuing to piston himself into you as he chases his own release.

Once again, his fingers find their way to your over-sensitive clit and he’s working at it frantically, in the practiced motion he knows to be your favorite. You keen and try to clamp your legs shut; the sensation is almost too much. But Astarion growls and forces your legs open with his knees as he quickly brings you to the edge of another orgasm.

Your lover is panting with exertion as he holds back his own release. Through gritted teeth he urges you on, using the hand not playing with your clit to grab your hip and slam you down to meet his thrusts.

“One more, darling. You can do one more, can’t you? Let go, I’ve got you.” He coaxes, his voice near breathless but filled with gravel.

“Oh, fuck!” Is all you can respond as the second orgasm rips through you, stronger than the first. You’re seeing stars as your pussy throbs around Astarion’s shaft, rewarding his efforts with a deliciously tight grip and another gush of your delectable juices. The high-pitched, uninhibited whine that escapes you while you’re drowning in ecstasy is music to the rogue’s ears.

As your greedy cunt clenches around him again during that second wave of pleasure, Astarion emits a strangled moan of his own.

He buries his face in your neck as he soon struggles to buck forward, shakily dragging his sensitive, swollen length in and out of your walls just a few more times before he buries himself balls-deep. Thick ropes of his spend shoot up into your warmth as he groans, consumed by his own euphoria behind you. His cock continues to pulse for a few moments longer, urged on by the relentless spasming of your sex around him.

Both of you are heaving and shaking slightly once he finally relaxes his legs. You’re still laying atop him as he slowly roams his hands over your body, idly stroking your curves in soft, soothing motions.

“I thought you said we couldn’t move,” You finally say, voice completely hoarse from the cries of ecstasy you uttered moments ago.

“I said you couldn’t move, darling. I didn’t say anything about me.” The vampire responds with a self-satisfied smirk as he playfully nips at your earlobe, “Are you truly complaining that I did all the work?”

“No,” You respond, finally pulling yourself off of the vampire, releasing the slick combination of your respective arousals as it drips between the two of you. “But at some point I’d like it to be me making all that effort to bring pleasure to you.”

He pulls you down beside him with a little hum. You pull the blanket over the two of you. No other words are exchanged as you drift to sleep, thoroughly exhausted by the events of the day and this satisfying but unexpected evening. Astarion watches you sleep, and for the first time he allows himself to acknowledge that he might also like to let you have a bit of control in the bedroom… perhaps next time.

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tfwbluu · 6 months ago

Text

PAIRING — ni-ki + f!reader + heeseung

WARNINGS — vampire!heeki, blood sucking + biting (duh), threesome, fingering, double penetration (mouth & hole), pet names, praise + one cockslut, oral (m. rec), overstimulation, riki & reader are dating each other, aftercare.

WORDCOUNT — 2.6K

NOTE — u can imagine reader being anything, human or not, up to u~ ive been wanting to write about vampire enha so that’s how this came to be. . lmk if i missed anything in the warnings not 100% proofread so ignore any mistakes pls.

Riki had known for a while that his eldest hyung had feelings for you. Heeseung had tried to win your heart years ago, and even after you and Riki got together, the older boy still seemed to harbor those feelings, though he kept them more discreet out of respect for your relationship. It wasn’t a revelation to Riki—Heeseung had always been captivated by you.

You were stunning, confident, and kind. How could anyone not fall for you? After all, Riki himself was hopelessly in love with you. Perhaps that’s why he wasn’t entirely uneasy with the bold idea that crossed his mind one quiet afternoon as you lay cuddled against him, your warmth lulling him into contemplation.

“Angel, what do you think of Heeseung hyung?” he asked casually, his fingers lazily running through your hair.

You perked up at the mention of his name, curiosity sparking in your eyes. “He’s okay... Why? What’s with the sudden question?”

Riki hesitated for a moment, then leaned closer. “Well, you remember that one time you joked about wanting to have a threesome?” he asked in a hushed tone.

Your eyes widened, heat rushing to your cheeks as you stared at him. “Yes… why?”

“Well, I was thinking… why not extend that offer to him? You and Heeseung used to have a fling or two, right?” Riki said casually, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm.

“It was not a fling. We were drunk, and we made out. Once,” you retorted, giving him a pointed look.

“Still counts,” he teased with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes before pausing to consider his suggestion. “Although… I wouldn’t be opposed to it,” you admitted, your voice softer now. “Are you sure he’s the one you’re comfortable with?” you asked, searching his expression for any hesitation.

He smiled at your reaction, leaning down to kiss your temple. “I can’t think of anyone else I’d trust, love. But if you’re not comfortable, that’s totally fine too—hmph!” His words were cut off as you pressed your lips to his, silencing his doubts.

“It’s okay, baby,” you murmured against his mouth. “I think it could work.”

Riki’s grin widened, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Alright, I’ll talk to him later,” he said with a teasing tone, brushing his lips against your forehead. “Oh, but before that...”

He gently moved your hair away from your neck, and without warning, his fangs sank into your skin. You yelped in surprise, feeling the sharp sting as he drank from you. It wasn’t unusual for him to feed on you, but this time, it had caught you off guard.

“Just getting you ready for later,” he murmured, pulling back and licking the small wound before planting a soft kiss over it. A warmth spread through your body, and you realized it wasn’t just the intimacy—it was the aphrodisiac in his bite.

“Feeling a bit warmer already, aren’t you?” he teased, his voice low and playful. “I’ll see you in a bit, okay?” With that, he gave you a mischievous wink before leaving the room, leaving your heart racing and your body buzzing with anticipation.

Riki didn’t waste any time. A simple suggestion was all it took to pique Heeseung’s curiosity, and now they were both heading toward your shared bedroom.

“Wait, Riki, are you serious about this?” Heeseung asked, trailing behind the younger nervously.

“Come on, hyung, I know you want this as much as we do,” Riki replied casually, his pace quickening.

“Are you actually serious, or—woah.” Heeseung stopped in his tracks, his breath hitching as his eyes landed on you, sitting on the bed in the most stunning see through dress. The delicate fabric hugged every curve of your body, leaving little to the imagination.

“Hi, baby. I’ve been waiting for you two,” you greeted, standing gracefully and moving toward Riki to place a soft kiss on his lips.

“Sorry, angel, it took a little convincing,” Riki said, smirking.

“W-wow… uh, Riki…” Heeseung stammered, his eyes unable to leave you as you sauntered toward him, a mischievous smile on your lips. Gently, you reached for his hand and pulled him into the room.

Riki smirked as he leaned casually against the doorframe, watching Heeseung’s wide-eyed expression. “Relax, hyung. This is what she wants. What we want,” he said, his tone calm but firm, as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

You stepped closer to Heeseung, your confidence palpable as you placed your hands gently on his shoulders. “You don’t have to hold back,” you murmured, your voice soft and inviting.

Heeseung’s eyes flicked to Riki one last time, searching for reassurance. The younger boy gave a simple nod, the corner of his lips quirking into a playful smile. “She’s all yours for now, hyung. Go ahead.”

Unable to resist any longer, Heeseung wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer as his lips finally claimed yours. The kiss was heated, needy, as if he’d been waiting for this moment far too long.

You felt Riki’s presence behind you, his hands grazing your hips lightly. “She’s so eager for you, hyung,” he teased, his voice low. “Go on, angel, show him how good you are.”

“Please,” you whispered, your voice breathy and soft as you tugged Heeseung toward the edge of the bed. Heeseung let you guide him, his breathing uneven as you sank to your knees, looking up at him with a mischievous glint in your eyes.

Not many words were exchanged; it didn’t take long before Heeseung was fully undressed. Riki, on the other hand, removed his clothes but kept his boxers on—for now.

“Gonna be a good girl, right, angel?” Riki murmured, his hand gently caressing your head as you knelt between Heeseung’s legs. His cock was already hard, the tip glistening with precum.

You nodded eagerly, and Heeseung groaned when he felt your soft hands wrap around him, stroking him slowly. His fingers clutched the sheets beneath him as your tongue flicked over his sensitive tip, eliciting a low moan.

“F-Fuck,” he breathed, his voice heavy with pleasure, though his movements were hesitant, unsure of how far he could go.

“She likes it when you pull her hair and use her mouth,” Riki said casually, taking Heeseung’s hand and guiding it to the back of your head. The gentle tug made you moan around Heeseung’s cock, the vibrations sending shivers up his spine.

“S-shit, you can take it, right, baby?” Heeseung asked, his voice trembling as he began to thrust into your mouth slightly. You nodded, your doe eyes looking up at him, filled with submission and desire.

That was all the encouragement he needed. Heeseung started moving more confidently, his cock sliding deeper into your throat as choked, wet sounds filled the room. Riki leaned back, one hand stroking himself slowly as he watched you being used, his eyes dark with hunger.

“Good girl,” Riki praised, his voice low and smooth. “Keep making him feel good.”

“F-fuck…” Heeseung moaned, his voice trembling as he neared his climax.

Pulling out of your mouth, his release spilled onto your lips. Without hesitation, you parted your lips, letting the warm substance settle on your tongue before swallowing it with a deliberate gaze that locked with his.

“She loves it when you come inside,” Riki chimed in, his tone playful, “but either way works.” He guided you onto the bed, positioning himself comfortably against the plush pillows before pulling you to rest in front of him.

“C’mere, Seungie,” you whispered, reaching out to him. He leaned in, and your lips met in a sweet kiss, allowing him a taste of himself on your tongue.

Their deep maroon eyes glimmered—a telltale sign of their vampiric nature. Heeseung’s lips trailed from your mouth down to your chest, lingering on your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin.

“You don’t need permission, hyung,” Riki murmured, his voice low and coaxing.

“Hmm… okay,” Heeseung exhaled, his restraint faltering as his fangs pierced your collarbone. He groaned softly, intoxicated by your sweetness.

“Tell us if it’s too much, angel,” Riki reassured, before sinking his fangs into your shoulder.

The room was filled with the wet, obscene sounds of slurping and your quiet, breathy moans as you writhed in their arms, your body alight with heat.

A soft sigh slipped from your lips as Riki’s fingers glided between your folds, sliding two fingers inside with effortless precision. His movements were steady, deliberate, each thrust drawing out a shiver as the intoxicating rhythm made your breath hitch. His mouth lingered on your skin, drawing fresh waves of pleasure with every heated pull. When they finally pulled away, a heady haze settled over you, your vision spinning slightly from the gentle loss of control.

Heeseung shifted beside you, his dark, hungry gaze locking onto your trembling form. Without a word, he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, sliding them down with agonizing slowness before casting them aside. Riki’s fingers spread you open, holding you in place as Heeseung positioned himself at your entrance. He paused briefly, the moment electric, before sinking into you with deliberate slowness. His thick length stretched you inch by inch, a sharp gasp tearing from your lips as your body yielded to him, molding around him with eager need.

“F-fuck…” Heeseung groaned, his voice ragged as he began to move, slow and deliberate. “You’re sucking me in so perfectly, princess.”

Riki smirked, leaning in to press his lips against the wounds on your shoulder, his tongue gliding over them to soothe the sting. “Tastes so sweet too, doesn’t she?” he murmured, his gaze flicking to Heeseung.

“The sweetest,” Heeseung replied, his voice laced with a teasing edge. “Gotta thank your boyfriend for letting me finally fuck this perfect pussy.”

His hips picked up speed, pounding into you with force, each thrust sending shockwaves through your body. The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with the lewd squelch of your arousal, filling the room with a symphony of pleasure. Your moans grew louder, raw and unfiltered, as Heeseung continued to claim you, each movement sending you spiraling further into bliss. He couldn’t resist sinking his fangs into you again, his lips latching onto your skin as he drank deeply, all while his cock pistoned relentlessly in and out of you.

“Close?” Riki whispered, his lips brushing your ear as his hands fondled your breasts, his fingers kneading and teasing. He trailed soft kisses along the curve of your ear, his breath warm against your skin.

“Y-yes… fuck! Please~!” you moaned, your hands gripping Heeseung’s shoulders tightly, your body trembling with anticipation.

“Where do I cum, princess?” Heeseung rasped, his tongue gliding over his lips to catch the lingering taste of your blood. His voice was thick with strain, his hips snapping desperately as he chased his release.

“I-inside… please,” you whimpered, your voice needy and desperate. Riki’s hand slid down between your thighs, his fingers circling your clit expertly, pushing you closer to the edge.

Both you and Heeseung reached your peaks together, your bodies trembling as waves of pleasure consumed you. Heeseung spilled inside you, his cock throbbing with every pulse, while you clenched around him, crying out as your own orgasm washed over you.

“So pretty…” Heeseung muttered breathlessly, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your lips.

“Still have energy left, baby? You wouldn’t want to keep your boyfriend waiting,” Riki teased, his voice low and playful. Without missing a beat, he shifted your position, turning you to face him.

“Ki…” you pouted, reaching for him.

“Come here, angel,” he said, opening his arms as an invitation for you to nestle into his chest.

“I wanna make you feel good too,” you murmured, poking at his exposed erection, hard and aching in the cool air.

“Hmm, how about this?” Riki suggested with a sly grin. “I’ll fuck you while you suck hyung’s dick, yeah?” He was already adjusting your position before you could reply.

Heeseung quickly caught on, moving to kneel in front of you while Riki positioned himself behind you. Both men helped guide you onto all fours, setting you up for what was to come.

“Remember, just tell us if it gets too much,” the older murmured. But Riki’s patience was waning. Without waiting for you to adjust, he thrust into you from behind, setting a relentless pace.

Meanwhile, Heeseung kneeled in front of you, gripping his cock as he brought it closer to your lips. “Suck,” he commanded, his voice deeper than usual. You didn’t hesitate, taking him into your mouth as he groaned in approval.

The room was filled with the lewd sounds of skin slapping, muffled moans, and heavy breathing. Overwhelmed by the pleasure, you could feel your body trembling as Riki pounded into you, his movements rough and needy.

Heeseung was no less intense, his newfound confidence showing as he gently pulled your hair back, guiding you to take him deeper. “Haa… such a good cockslut,” he praised, his cock hitting the back of your throat as you choked slightly but kept going.

Behind you, Riki groaned, his pace quickening as his release drew closer. “Fuck…” he breathed, his head tilting back as his hips snapped harder into you.

Your mind was hazy, eyes rolling back as you surrendered completely, taking everything they gave you. Moans and whines spilled from your lips, never ceasing, as they filled you to the brim, pushing you past every limit.

Both men came without warning—Heeseung spilling into your mouth while Riki filled you up from behind. Heeseung pulled out, watching as you swallowed every drop, but Riki wasn’t done yet. Despite his own overstimulation, he kept pounding into you, determined to push you over the edge.

“C’mon, angel, I know you’re close. Just one more for me,” he urged, his fingers finding your puffy clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts.

Your body tensed as the pleasure finally overwhelmed you, a scream tearing from your throat as you squirted, leaving you trembling and out of breath.

“Good girl…” they both murmured, their voices soft and comforting.

Heeseung quickly fetched a wet towel while Riki pulled you into his arms, cuddling you close. When Heeseung returned, he gently moved you to the couch, carefully wiping you clean while Riki busied himself changing the sheets as fast as he could.

“Drink up, baby,” Heeseung said, handing you a glass of water and watching as you drank it down completely. “Good,” he praised with a small smile.

Once everything was tidied, the two men slipped on new boxers, while you put on a fresh pair of panties. The three of you finally settled into bed on the fresh sheets—Heeseung lying in front of you, Riki snug behind.

The peaceful silence lingered for a moment before Heeseung broke it, his voice hesitant. “Would… this be a one-time thing, or…?” he trailed off, bracing himself for your answer.

You smiled softly, reaching out to caress his cheek. “Well, if you don’t want it to be, then why not make it official?”

Heeseung’s eyes widened in surprise, flicking toward Riki for confirmation. The younger simply shrugged, a teasing grin on his face. “I guess I don’t mind sharing, as long as it’s you,” he said playfully, earning a light smack from you.

“We can talk about it later,” you yawned, your exhaustion finally catching up with you. “’m tired.”

Both men chuckled at your cuteness, their voices warm with affection. “Okay, angel,” Riki murmured, pressing a kiss to the back of your head.

“Sleep well,” Heeseung added, his fingers brushing gently over your cheek. Wrapped in their shared warmth, you drifted off to sleep, feeling safe and cherished between them.

TAGLIST — @kikidoul @rikiives @contyynishimura

#( tfwbluu )#enha x reader #enhypen smut #enha smut #niki smut #niki x reader #riki smut #riki x reader #ni ki smut #ni ki x reader #heeseung smut #heeseung x reader #lee heeseung smut #lee heeseung x reader

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fanficlolsblog · 10 months ago

Text

JUST A LITTLE BITE

back to my main masterlist

pairing: vampire fem!reader x wednesday addams

summary: Y/N, a vampire, returns to wednesday addams' dorm after a day out, sensing her girlfriend's hidden frustration at being apart. as Y/N teases wednesday about her vampire nature, they share playful intimacy through biting. their connection deepens, revealing wednesday’s vulnerability and desire, ultimately strengthening their bond in the shadows.

warnings: mentions of light bitting, vamprism, blood play.

It had been a long day out with my friends, filled with laughter and sunlight, both of which always seemed a little too bright for my liking. As a vampire, I thrived in the dark, where the shadows embraced me like an old friend. But today had been different. I wanted to enjoy life outside my usual midnight escapades, if only for a while. Still, all I could think about was getting back to her.

As I stepped into the dimly lit hallway of Nevermore Academy, a chill ran down my spine, a mixture of excitement and anticipation. I moved silently, my footsteps barely making a sound against the polished floor. Wednesday Addams’ dorm room was just a few doors down, and I could feel an inexplicable pull toward her, one that always seemed to intensify the longer I was away.

I pushed open the door, the hinges creaking softly. The room was just as I remembered it: dark, cluttered with peculiar artifacts and a hint of the macabre. Wednesday was sitting on her bed, a book sprawled open in front of her, but her eyes were glued to the window, lost in thought.

“Hey,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

She turned slowly, her expression unreadable. “You took your time,” she replied, her tone flat but with an undercurrent of something deeper.

I could sense it immediately. There was a heaviness in the air, a tension that I recognized well. Wednesday often masked her emotions behind a veneer of indifference, but I could see through it. “Did you miss me?” I asked, trying to keep the teasing light.

“Hardly,” she retorted, but her eyes flickered with something that felt like longing.

I moved closer, noting the way she shifted slightly, an unconscious invitation. “You know it’s not the same without you,” I said softly, my gaze locking onto hers. “I hate being away from you.”

For a moment, I thought I saw a flash of vulnerability in her dark eyes, but she quickly masked it with her usual stoicism. “Well, you’re back now. That’s all that matters.”

I perched on the edge of her bed, the tension between us palpable. “You don’t have to pretend with me, Wednesday. I can sense how you feel.”

Her lips twitched, but she suppressed a smile. “You can’t always read me like an open book, Y/N.”

“Maybe not, but I know you well enough to tell when you’re upset.” I leaned in closer, catching the faint scent of her shampoo mixed with something uniquely her. “What’s really bothering you?”

She paused, her gaze drifting to the book in front of her, avoiding my eyes. “I just... don’t like being ignored,” she said, the faintest hint of frustration creeping into her voice.

I reached out, brushing my fingers against hers. “You weren’t ignored, I just needed some time out. But I’m here now.” I hesitated for a moment before adding, “And I think you secretly love it when I bite you.”

A smirk tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she quickly suppressed it, her facade slipping momentarily. “I don’t ‘love’ anything,” she said, but I could hear the teasing lilt in her tone.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” I leaned closer, my fangs grazing her neck. She shivered slightly, and I could see the rush of excitement in her dark eyes.

“Y/N,” she murmured, her voice a mix of annoyance and thrill. “You’re insufferable.”

“Maybe, but you enjoy it.” I brushed my lips against her skin, just above where my fangs would pierce. I could feel her heartbeat quicken, a rhythm that matched my own in a way that was both intoxicating and terrifying.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied, but the breathiness in her voice betrayed her.

“Then let me show you.” I pressed my fangs against her neck, teasingly light, just enough to make her breath hitch. I could feel the tension in her body, the way she leaned into me, craving that small bit of pain mingled with pleasure.

“Just a little bite,” I whispered, allowing myself the indulgence of sinking my fangs into her skin for the briefest moment. The taste of her blood was warm and inviting, and I pulled back, a satisfied smile on my lips. “See? Not so bad.”

Wednesday’s expression shifted, her usual stoic demeanor faltering as she tried to regain control. “You’re a menace,” she said, though her eyes sparkled with something darker, something that told me she wanted more.

I couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling a surge of warmth at the sight of her struggle to maintain her composure. “Maybe, but you like me just the way I am.”

“Perhaps,” she said, feigning nonchalance, but her gaze betrayed her interest. “You’re certainly not boring.”

“Glad to hear it.” I brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, my fingers lingering on her cool skin. “And you’re definitely not boring either.”

She leaned into my touch, and for a moment, the distance between us vanished. I could feel the weight of her longing, the unspoken words hanging in the air. “What are we doing, Y/N?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I smiled, my heart racing. “Whatever we want. As long as you’re with me.”

For the first time, Wednesday’s defenses seemed to crack just a bit. She smiled, a small, genuine smile that made my heart flutter. “Then let’s not waste any more time.”

#wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #imagine #gxg #wlw #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x you #wednesday netflix #vampire wednesday #Spotify

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tbaluver · 11 months ago

Note

HIIIIII! first of all I wanna thank you for your service to the entirety of the LADS fandom omg😭🫶🫶🫶 local treasure for real. Uhhhh now for my request- If it’s alright with you, is it okie to write HCs for the boys if they were vampires? LMK IF IT ISN’T ALR W YOU😭😭😭 I’m sorry if it isn’t okie TT…..

The Love And DeepSpace Men As Vampires

warnings/ context: a lot of mention of blood, fluff and a lot of intimacy, maybe ooc

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader

a/n: hihi anonnie <3 !! omg you're so sweet your message literally made my day!! (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ thank you for requesting and i hope you like this !! i might make a second part of this headcanon bc i honestly liked writing this au!!

any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

Xavier’s skills in combat were beyond impressive. His speed, strength, and reflexes were way beyond human capabilities, making him a respected Deepspace Hunter.

Struggled to tell you he was a vampire and tried to look it up but found absolutely no answer

He doesn’t crave food as much anymore, but deep down, he misses it. He’ll still eat anything whenever he was out with you, but the flavor of everything he ate just tasted bland

A lot of dates under the stars. He practically memorized every star in the sky ages ago, and he'll tell you everything he's learned about them

He would consistently turn down your offer to feed him, worried he might drain you empty if he lost control. However your concern would grow when you notice he had been growing weaker and weaker for the past few days. You couldn’t just stand by and watch, confronting him and insisting that he accept your offer despite his protests.

Take A Bite! He would prefer to bite you on the neck from behind. He’d press you close to his chest, his arm slipping around your waist, and you could feel his warm breath before he grazed the nape of your neck. A gentle brush of his lips against your skip, followed by a delicate lick, and soon his fangs puncture your neck. The sting was temporary, but it still makes you cringe. The richness of your blood filled him with so much satisfaction that his grip on your waist tightened slightly as he savored every drop.

Xavier would sleep a lot during the day and take most missions during the night. You’ve gotten used to him sleeping during the day, so occasionally, you’d find yourself napping with him. You would find out from him that vampires find comfort in sleeping close to someone they trust and love

Zayne:

As the world evolved, so did Zayne. He’s learned modern advancements in medical technology and due to his many practices from many generations, he’s had extraordinary success rates. Many of his coworkers were both impressed and concerned by his ability to work over a 12 hour night for several days without being exhausted.

Deep down he was very worried on how you would take it if he told you he was a vampire. He would give you space to think about it and he would understand if you didn't want to see him anymore.

Since Zayne is a vampire, his manners and chivalry have always remained. He continues to hold the door open, pull out chairs, and showers you some other traditional gestures

His food supply would be from drinking blood bags from the hospital that he would pour into a cup. It was always bland, something to just fill his hunger. But when you offered your own, he was quick to turn it down because deep down he was worried about what your blood would do to him. One day, you would manage to convince him to feed off you after you noticed the blood bags he’d been feeding off from weren’t filling his hunger at all.

Take A Bite! He’d prefer to bite you on the neck from the front, both your chest presses close. Your hands would clench around his shirt, tensing up to the idea of it hurting. He would be slow and gentle, softly kissing your shoulder and neck as his hands ran along your waist. He couldn’t deny how irresistible your scent was, drawing him closer and closer. He positions his fangs at your throat and presses down, earning a gasp at the sudden and sharp sting, and he is quick to comfort you. His fingers gently trace soothing circles on your hip to ease the discomfort. Your blood tasted sweet, something he hasn't tasted many centuries ago

When he finally drew back, he would lick the wound and press soft kisses on it. He got SO worried once he saw how drained you looked, but your reassurance put his fears to rest. He’d let you stay sitting up as he fetches you some snacks to help regain your strength.

He can comfortably go a week or even a month without feeding. He doesn’t drink again from you unless it’s absolutely necessary, sometimes to the point where he’s so weak that he couldn’t even hold his pen anymore.

When it does come to the time when you let him feed on you, he would have everything prepared. He’d have bandages and wraps nearby just in case he loses control. He’d also have snacks and drinks to help you recover afterward.

Rafayel:

Told you he was a vampire in the most chillest way ever but deep down he was freaking out, worried you were going to hate him or even stake him on the spot

Mostly gets blood from blood donors

Pouts every time he looks at the mirror to see nothing but just floating clothes. Even after centuries later, he's still not used to that. He'll also pout whenever you two take photos together because it doesn't show him physically there with you

He loves to keep you close whenever he sleeps during the day because you were just so warm and his skin was so cold

Whenever he was out with you during his art exhibitions, he'll show you around old paintings and sculptures and he'll tell you about how he used to know all these old artists centuries ago

Even as a vampire, he’ll still mess around with you. He’ll occasionally tease you when his sharp fangs gently bite your lips when he kisses you, and you’ll pull away to flick his forehead, earning a very dramatic ow!

Take A Bite! In the beginning, he’d prefer to bite your wrist. He’d find it the most practical and less intrusive spot for feeding. He insists that you sit beside him during the process so you can easily pull away if you start to feel faint. He would lean in, his breath warm against your skin, and with the gentlest pressure he could, his fangs would pierce the surface of your wrist, leaving a tingling sting that would quickly fade away. He fed slowly, savoring the rich and warm taste. As he drank, he would look up a couple times, his gaze fixed on you, watching for any signs of discomfort. When he finally finished, he eased his fangs off your skin and gently licked the small puncture.

Sylus:

Well you weren’t really shocked when you found out he was a vampire. I mean, white hair, red eyes, doesn’t sleep at night, and is often hidden in the shadows? There’s so much more evidence too. Especially how his home was decorated

You found out he’d usually get blood from blood bags from the hospital because he has no time to hunt. He hates having to feed on them because he found them too bland and unsatisfying. Sometimes he’ll indulge in red wine, using it as a substitute to mimic what he truly craves.

Dates with him are super thoughtful just like how he would give you gifts. He’ll give you with more antique or vintage things from his past that remind him of you or things that you’ll like. He loves taking you out on moonlit dates or walks under the stars. He obviously cannot be in the sun, not only because he hates it, but because he finally has a reason to stay in this timeline.

If you couldn't sleep, he'd tell you stories he had centuries ago as he brushes gently through your hair

Out of your kindness and curiosity, you offer him your own blood. He would be hesitant about it, mainly because he was worried he might become addicted once he’s consumed your blood. But with reassurance and communication, you two decided to try it out.

Take A Bite! He preferred to bite you on your inner thigh. You would lay on your back, supported by the plush of the pillows. Your legs would be slightly bent and spread, enough to give him access as he settled in between you. He brushes his lips slightly against your inner thigh, his breath warm against your skin as one of his hands intertwined with yours. Slowly, he allowed his fangs to emerge, leaning in to place a soft kiss on the inner curve of your thigh, his fangs grazing lightly against your skin. The bite stung, but the feeling went away. He quickly replaced it with a soothing, warm lick and kiss as he began to feed himself again. He couldn’t help but groan at your taste. He kept his touch light, his hands continuously caressing your thigh to make sure you were okay. He’ll occasionally look up to see if you were showing discomfort. Once he was done feeding, he would lick the bite mark clean, and caress your thigh as he praises you. “You taste so good for me sweetie.”

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fangswbenefits · 1 year ago

Text

Everything

Summary: You're used to staying still whenever Astarion feeds on you. This time, he wants you to feel everything.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Blood kink. Inappropriate use of tadpoles. Dry humping if you squint. Handjob. Innuendo. PiV. Creampie. Precum.

Word count: 3.2k

You've done this so many times before that it feels as natural as second nature.

It feels right.

If the multiple scrolls of Lesser Restoration are anything to go by, this is meant to be a prolonged feeding session.

You don't mind.

And by the looks of it, neither does Astarion as he pulls you by the waist to sit more comfortably on his lap.

He has this ritual of sorts with you. It would be so easy to tilt your head to the side, exposing your neck to his bite and let him feed comfortably, but he takes his time.

And you know it's only a matter of time before you start feeling it.

“You can just feed, you know?” you purr, pressing your forehead against his.

As expected, he huffs in feigned annoyance.

“Gods, are you about to lecture me with the ‘don't play with your food’ nonsense, darling?” he bites out dramatically, but you do know he enjoys a good tease.

“Maybe I should,” you say, swirling the soft curls at the nape of his neck around your finger. “You need to feed, after all.”

A devious smile curves his lips and you pull back to slip from his lap.

But he immediately halts you halfway with a firm grip on your waist, fingertips digging into your skin and holding you in place.

Oh?

This is new.

And that's when you first feel it twitch for the first time.

It's no surprise that Astarion gets easily hard with you and for you. In fact, it doesn't take much effort at all. It's as if his body is set to react to yours in unfathomable ways.

But when you press down softly against him, and the motion earns a groan from him and yet another twitch from his cock, you know this is different.

Usually, he feeds on you as you lay flat on your bed, making use of the comfort a mattress can provide as he drinks your blood.

It is easy and quick and enough.

But tonight, it seems that Astarion has other plans and his lustful gaze paired with his hardening cock are proof enough.

He is evidently hungry for more than just your blood.

“As much as I adore you under me,” he begins, gaze dropping to your shirt, “I think I'd rather have you on top of me this time.”

Your hands come to grip his shoulders for balance, and your eyes widen slightly. “Why?”

A gentle tug at the laces of your nightdress nearly breaks your concentration, but you somehow manage to keep your composure as his crimson eyes find yours.

“Why not? Why shouldn't this delicacy be shared?” he asked with another tug and you felt the fabric at your chest begin to loosen. “You should enjoy it, too, darling. And I want you to feel everything.”

He emphasises his words with a final pull that brings your nightdress fully apart, unravelling your breasts to his hungry gaze. They heave in unison with your quickened breathing and it's enough to transfix him.

You can't necessarily feel it, but you are certain his cock just got harder just as blood rushes downwards, swelling your clit.

The shift in temperature causes your nipples to slowly harden and that is what makes him groan.

“Enjoying the view?”

He nods. “You can feel how much I do.”

You feigned ignorance. “I don't think I can.”

The grip on your waist tightens and he pulls you against his cock, the flimsy fabric of your undergarments allowing your clit to drag along his covered length.

Hard and needy.

“You were saying…?”

Smug and cheeky and infuriating.

Three adjectives that fall short to fully grasp how he is with you when it comes to intimacy, but it's a good place to start.

He's good and he knows it and he wants you to validate him every step of the way.

“Connect your tadpole with mine,” he says unexpectedly.

“What? Why?”

“You know why.”

You do and it baffles you that he even suggested it in the first place. Connecting tadpoles intimately is reserved for when privacy is a guarantee. And being inside one of the many rooms at the Elfsong Tavern offers everything but privacy.

“We're at a tavern, Astarion…”

He quirks an eyebrow, bucking his hips upwards ever so slightly. “Yes, I'm aware. Your point being…?”

“We'll be heard.”

“Do you not intend on being loud?”

Your mouth falls agape at the nerve. Silence is never an option with him. He takes pride in how he makes you feel, knowing fully well he's ruined you for anyone else.

“Would you have it any other way?”

His cock twitches in response, but it's the way his half-hooded eyes roam deliciously slow across your face that makes you clench.

“And miss the opportunity to inconvenience our next-door neighbours?” he tuts with a smirk that bares his fangs. “I don't think so.”

In the midst of all the lust-heavy words and slow hip rolls, you manage out a chuckle.

“You're vicious. Shadowheart and Lae'zel will definitely not appreciate the midnight ruckus.”

He bucks his hips so that your face gets close enough for your lips to brush.

“And what exactly are they going to do, hmm?” he says with a smirk. “Kill me?”

Before you can answer, he leans in and captures your bottom lip in between his teeth. The suddenness of it all, makes you flinch back and when a fang grazes the frail skin, it draws blood.

It stings enough for you to curse, and you see his hungry gaze admiring the droplet that pools on your lip.

“They could do much worse to you,” you tease with a giggle, proving your point by denying him the taste of your blood when he leans in again.

He lets out a low rumble of disapproval as he slumps against the headboard. “If by ‘worse’ you mean ‘whispering healing prays and hurling nonsensical curse words’, then I agree. A torment,” he feigned pain dramatically.

There is something oddly satisfying about teasing Astarion to the brink of frustration.

You almost feel inclined to satisfy his bloodlust, but decide against it, wiping the droplet with a swipe of your tongue.

That immediately earns a deep frown from him and an obnoxious click of his tongue. “Honestly, what a waste.”

“Then be nice,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips.

Astarion's hips buck and you're sure your undergarments are soaked enough for the wetness to seep through the fabric of his trousers. If he feels it, he doesn't say.

When you pull away, there's a faint stain of blood on his lower lip, which he pulls in between his teeth to suckle on it gently.

The sight is enough to have you roll your hips twice.

Suddenly, he looks uncharacteristically serious. “Connect your tadpole with mine.”

There is urgency in his voice and you can only assume he is past warming up and ready to move on to the next step.

And you're not one to deny the offer of a good time if there is a promise that him feeding on you can be pleasurable to you as well.

You allow your mind to stir the dorment tadpole, urging it to find his.

It is rather simple and you've done it before with him during your sexual endeavours. But this is different. It already feels different. It's as if the worm knows this connection bears other purposes.

Astarion lets out a groan when his body meets yours through his mind.

The tug inside your head is enough to draw a breathy gasp as you are made aware of his intentions.

He wants your hand.

Your… hand?

Your eyebrows furrow together in confusion, but not for long enough as his hand pulls yours from his shoulder.

And what he does next makes you clench so hard, you feel a gush of wetness drip from you.

“I want you to feel it – everything – as I feast on your blood,” he purrs, placing your hand around his throat.

Oh.

The tadpole squirms in anticipation as you feel his cock throbbing in your mind and against your clothed clit.

His skin is cool to the touch but it quickly heats up under your palm and, with his other hand, he undoes the laces of his trousers with unmatched dexterity.

You gasp as his thoughts bleed into you, allowing you to know what he expects next.

This time, he doesn't need to utter aloud his intentions.

You can hear him inside your head and you find yourself utterly unable to look away from his piercing eyes.

Take it out and grip it, darling.

Your hips buck, driven by pure instinct as you comply with his request. A shaky hand reaching down and tugging at the fabric of his own undergarments, and in one swift motion, you free his cock.

As expected, he immediately welcomes your grip with a thrust, and you feel just how hard and wet he already is.

His cock is still cool to the touch, but you know that is about to change soon enough.

With a gentle squeeze, his eyes flutter shut, head tilting back slightly as he adjusts to your touch.

It doesn't take long for a thick bead of precum to roll down his length before reaching your knuckles.

Inside your head, your tadpole shudders and you're sure it's because he wants to feel how swollen your clit is for him.

It pulsates rhythmically and Astarion growls with a smirk.

He adores feeling your clit.

Just as you adore feeling how stiff his cock can get in your hand and in your mind.

“You're already quite hard already,” you say, doing a laughable poor job at keeping your voice steady.

“I can get harder,” he says and you feel his voice rumbling against your palm.

You clench in sheer reflex. Mostly because you know he can and will.

Instinctively, you let out a soft moan from the delicious friction.

And it's enough to have Astarion's ego soar high enough that it pulls the most devilishly alluring smirk from his lips.

After all, he never misses the chance to remind you that it is your blood that makes his cock thicker and warmer and harder.

Astarion finally opens his eyes again and brings his hand to your face, fingers tracing your jawline before he tips your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.

Hold on tight, darling.

He cranes his head and he plants a fleeting kiss below your ear, as he grazes his cool lips along the length of your neck. By now, he knows your pulse points by heart, so when he finds one, his fangs break skin and sink into your inviting flesh.

Out of reflex, you grip his cock tighter and he lets out a muffled groan.

No matter how many times you allow him to feed on you, the initial uncomfortable feeling is always there and it lingers until his lips wrap around the bleeding wounds.

And when he begins to suckle hungrily, downing mouthfuls of your blood, you nearly moan from the way you can feel it under your palm.

Your tadpole allows you to be aware of your blood rushing and coursing through his body at a steady pace and when it finally reaches his lower half, a faint pulse stirs his cock.

Immediately, you clench, frustrated that it's around nothing, but you quickly brush the disappointment aside as you finally understand why he wanted your hands around him.

He swallows your blood at a rhythm that matches the throb in his cock, and inside your head you can feel it beat in unison with the one in your clit.

It's your blood that brings him alive in more ways than one.

Warmth spreads across your palm and fingers and the veins that snake around his length begin to bulge as your blood fills them.

Tighter… tighter… tighter.

He repeats it like a prayer that he hopes you can answer.

He's so lost in you that his senses blur and he becomes one with you.

You try your best to comply, the back of your hand soaked with precum, as he hardens even more.

In between your legs, your clit swells up as if in response and you're so wet you're sure he'd be able to slide his cock inside with little to no effort.

How is it possible? How…

The connection allows him to hear your thoughts and he groans in response, rolling his hips at a clumsy and broken pace.

Astarion's concentration is hanging on by a thread. You can hear him curse in sheer frustration as he tries to hold on to some semblance of control.

But he gets too drunk in your blood and he is unable to keep his focus.

It doesn't help that your own arousal is spilling into his mind and mixing with his own.

A double-edged sword.

He wanted you to feel him as he feeds on you, and now he's stuck having to withstand double the arousal and the pleasure that your blood provides.

The first loud growl comes from him and you feel your grip around his cock loosen as he thickens.

Your walls flutter and he feels it, bringing one hand down to close around yours, ensuring you grip him firmly once again.

You keep clenching like that and I…

His next words aren' heard in your head and you feel your body begin the inevitable battle between overwhelming pleasure and the numbness that always comes whenever he feeds.

A faint growl slips past your lips and it quickly morphs into a strangled cry that echoes around the room.

You want to call out his name and warn him… warn him that your body can't take much more bloodloss and arousal.

But the tug inside your mind lets you know that he knows.

After all, your body is his now.

Just as his is yours.

He fucks your hand slowly with his atop yours, keeping the pace. The lump in his throat bobs rhythmically with each gulp.

Astarion… it's too much…

It takes him a couple of more seconds, two more mouthfuls and at least five more thrusts of his cock for him to finally unlatch from your neck with a guttural growl.

He drags his warm tongue across the puncture wounds, not wasting the rivulets of blood that dribble down.

The wet sound is nearly intoxicating and you nearly jump in his lap as his other hand finds your breast, fingers tugging at your hardened nipple.

Astarion is close and, by extension, so are you.

Your blood rushes throughout his entire body and you now understand how good it feels. How good you feel inside him. He's warm and flushed from feeding on you and his head tilts back against the headboard as loses himself in you.

Somehow, he's able to keep a steady pace as he fucks your hand, the most beautiful moans spilling from his mouth as he does so.

You caress his neck lovingly as he tugs on your nipple.

“Darling…”

It's a plea.

Under different circumstances, you'd have to ask him what he wanted. But you're inside his head and you know why he's begging you.

He doesn't want his cum to go to waste.

He doesn't think the tightness and warmth and wetness your hand and fingers can provide.

I need to be inside you.

The alarm in his voice stuns you momentarily and your eyes widen as a very urgent tug

He's about to come.

You let go of his cock and his hands are suddenly in between your legs.

Your body reacts to this instantly and your walls tighten in anticipation, eager to squeeze something else.

Stop. Clenching.

A loud moan is all you give him in return as your vision blurs from how his cock pulses and throbs and leaks precum.

Another clench.

“Gods above… I can't take it anymore.”

And neither can you.

You hear the sound of fabric being torn filling your ears and his hands claw at your waist to position himself at your entrance.

A languid snap of his hips and he sinks into you, stretching you in a way that has you slumping against his chest, hardened nipples grazing his skin as he bottoms out.

He's so thick from your blood that you're sure you'll be sore from it, but none of that matters now.

All that matters is that you're stuffed to the brim, his balls pressing against you and the best part is that you can feel how he feels.

You're not sure whose climax hits first as you're so entwined with him.

You reckon it's his as you feel his balls tighten and cum coarse through his length, spilling into you with hurried thrusts.

It feels too good to be true.

You can feel just how tight you are around him and you can feel each gush of cum leaving his bodu

He whines. “I… it feels – Gods…”

Astarion is a babbling mess under you and his words soon lose meaning as they become incomprehensible.

The sound of skin slapping against skin mixed with the creamy sounds of you milking his cock is enough to send you into overdrive.

The uncontrollable contractions hit you like a tidal wave and both you and Astarion groan in unison as you both get thrust into each other's climaxes.

Your head is buried in the crook of his neck and you vaguely think in the haze of your peak that you should use a scroll of Lesser Restoration. You're still bleeding from the wounds and the fear that you might faint looms on the horizon.

But pleasure overcomes numbness and you welcome it with no resistance.

Still, as Astarion gets warmer and warmer, you begin to fade to the coldness.

Your tadpole is writhing with his and you feel him push you from him so that he can latch his lips against your bleeding wounds, careful to keep his fangs to himself.

He suckles gently as you descend from your shared climax and it's as if the action could lull him into a trance.

Blindly, you try to feel for a scroll that is somewhere scattered across the bed.

He's still buried deep inside you when the connection is severed, showing no signs of slipping out.

You find what you're looking for and utter the right words to activate the scroll, battling against your laboured breaths.

Vigour blooms inside you almost instantly and you feel warmth spread throughout your body with each pump of your heart.

The wounds close and he has no choice but to unlatch one final time, lips dripping with blood.

“I think I understand now… why you wanted to try this…” you breathe out, collapsing against him again.

The sudden motion causes a few droplets of cum to drip from you.

His hand is splattered across your back, fingers caressing your flushed skin. “Why are you so surprised? You should know by now that I always deliver what I promise.”

You think it's impossible to love him even more, but the way he holds you surely tests your resolve.

“This was really good… really, really good,” you say.

“Keep on praising me like that, and we'll have to go for a second round.”

Two loud bangs on the wall are heard accompanied by a “Tsk'va!” and you chuckle.

“Well, do you think our neighbours enjoyed the show, darling?”

You doubt it, but this isn't about anyone but you and him.

Masterlist

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #astarion smut #astarion x you #astarion x female tav #astarion x female reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x f!reader #astarion x oc

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longconra · 8 days ago

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Big fan of Remmick characterizing his rape of Sammie as lovemaking. Big fan of Remmick prioritizing Sammie’s sexual pleasure, even if he has to get through a few ‘no’s’ and ‘stops!’ before he makes Sammie cum. Big fan of Remmick telling Sammie how beautiful he looked on that first night. Big fan of Remmick rubbing Sammie’s back and peppering his face with kisses after biting and bruising him all over. Big fan of Remmick finding somewhere soft and cozy for Sammie to cry himself to sleep in every night. Big fan of Remmick learning all of Sammie’s most sensitive spots based on which one makes Sammie sob the loudest. Big fan of Remmick promising to keep Sammie safe from the dangers of the world while forcing himself inside. Big fan of Remmick forcibly “helping” Sammie to “overcome” his religious trauma through lots of vampiric non-consensual intimacy.

#sammick #remmick x sammie #sammie x remmick

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orellazalonia · 1 month ago

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Fake Dating

Summary: You convince your very real boyfriend Bucky Barnes to pretend to be your boyfriend at a high-profile gala after flirting with a Latvian arms dealer to get intel. (Bucky Barnes x chaotic!reader)

Word Count: 1.6k+

Main Masterlist | Earth’s Mightiest Headache Masterlist

It started with a crash.

Not a dramatic explosion or a mission gone wrong. Just you bursting through the doors of the Avengers' common room, skidding on the hardwood floor in socks, carrying a half-eaten apple and a manila folder clutched under your arm. You stopped only when you slammed your hip into the arm of the couch, cursed like a sailor, and turned toward Bucky and Sam, who were mid-argument over the definition of “strategically retreating” versus “panicked running.”

You jabbed a finger toward Bucky. “You. I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

Bucky blinked. Slowly. The kind of slow blink that cats do right before they knock something expensive off a shelf.

“…What?”

You huffed, flopping onto the couch with the elegance of a sack of laundry. “Pretend. Fake. Boyfriend. You know, dates me publicly, stares longingly, pretends we don’t argue about whether a raccoon counts as a support animal. But just for optics. For this mission.”

Sam, ever the instigator, leaned forward. “Hold on. Pretend? Aren’t you two already dating?”

Bucky tilted his head at you. “We are.”

“Yeah, but this is officially pretending,” You said, popping a bite of apple into your mouth. “Different rules. Different tone. Different labels. Think press photos. Think glamorous lies. Think… public hand-holding and threats whispered into wine glasses at galas.”

Bucky looked like he wanted to reach for his earpiece and call in an extraction. “Why. Why are we pretending to date when we already are dating?”

You lifted your folder with the air of a magician revealing a disappearing dove. “Because I may have flirted with a Latvian arms dealer during recon to get information. Like. A lot. A lot a lot. And when he started asking about long-term mutual interests and a Mediterranean retirement plan, I panicked and told him I was in a very serious, emotionally fulfilling relationship with someone who could bench press a car.”

Sam laughed so hard he nearly fell off the couch.

Bucky was just staring at you. Dead-eyed. Processing.

“I am in a serious relationship with someone who can bench press a car,” You offered with a too-bright smile. “It’s not a lie. It’s just… espionage-adjacent truth.”

He sighed, deeply. The sigh of a man who has fought Hydra, fallen off trains, and still somehow finds your schemes to be the most emotionally draining part of his life.

“So you want me to go on a mission pretending to be your boyfriend… even though I am your boyfriend… so some crime guy doesn’t try to date you again?”

“Exactly!”

“…and if I say no?”

You stared at him with wide, sparkling eyes. “Then I’ll ask Steve to do it.”

Sam immediately yelled, “I’ll help you pack, Bucky.”

Bucky groaned, dragged a hand down his face, and dropped his head back against the couch.

“Fine,” He muttered.

You clapped like a game show host. “YES. Operation ‘Fake But Emotionally Real Affection in Front of Murderous Europeans’ is a go!”

“Don’t ever name our missions again.”

The gala was being held in a baroque palace outside Bucharest, all gold trim and cold marble, filled with people who had enough money and ego to consider international arms dealing a viable retirement plan. The kind of place where secrets lived in the space between champagne flutes and symphony strings.

You had chosen your outfit with care which meant you walked out of the hotel bathroom in a black revealing dress paired with a hoodie, looking like a Wall Street vampire who’d gone rogue.

Bucky stared. “That’s what you’re wearing?”

You looked down. “This is fashion.”

“It’s something.”

You grinned and handed him a velvet box. “Relax. You get a tie. That’s your emotional support weapon.”

“I’d rather bring a gun.”

“Too bad. This mission is intimacy-based.”

Bucky sighed and muttered something about how the mission briefing hadn’t included any of this. But he put on the tie.

Because of course he did.

The ballroom shimmered under chandeliers the size of pickup trucks, and the crowd moved like a school of piranhas in tailored silk. You had ditched the hoodie when you got there and clung to Bucky’s arm like you were trying to make everyone jealous which you were.

“Okay,” You whispered, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. “There’s our guy. Latvian, evil, suspiciously good skin for a forty-something international criminal. I’m going to need you to radiate ‘she’s mine’ energy.”

“I already radiate that energy.”

“Yeah, but like, turn it up. Let your murder eyes do the talking.”

“My what.”

You pulled him down slightly and whispered, “Look like you’ve killed people for me, and would do it again. But like… hot.”

He stared at you.

You winked.

“God help me,” He muttered, and kissed your cheek with the kind of deadly gentleness that sent a clear message to anyone watching: this was not a man to be trifled with.

And sure enough, Latvian Arms Dealer #472 (you never remembered their names, just their eyebrow situation) saw it. His jaw tightened, his eyes flicked to Bucky’s hand around your waist, and he nodded once, sharply, like he’d just lost a negotiation no one else was privy to.

You leaned into Bucky’s side, keeping your voice low. “You’re doing amazing. I think he’s about to go cry into his vodka.”

“I still don’t understand how this is a mission.”

“I stole a USB drive from his briefcase while you were glaring at him.”

Bucky choked on his champagne. “What?”

“I used the ‘bend over to fix my heel’ classic. He was not expecting sleight-of-hand and a perfectly-arched spine.”

Bucky looked up with a sigh. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“And yet,” You said, looping your arm through his and pressing a kiss to his jaw, “You’re in too deep to walk away.”

He wanted to argue. He really did. But then you looked at him, eyes bright with mischief and moonlight, so alive it hurt a little.

And instead of a lecture, he just sighed.

“I’m telling Steve you did this.”

“He’ll be so proud of me,” You whispered smugly.

After the mission, the hotel room door hadn’t even shut behind you before Bucky was tugging off the tie like it had tried to personally ruin his life.

He tossed it onto a chair like it owed him money. “Never again.”

You kicked off your shoes with a relieved sigh and flopped face-first onto the bed with all the grace of a tranquilized goat. “You did amazing, babe. The way you death-glared at that arms dealer? Sizzling. If I weren’t already dating you, I’d be legally obligated to try.”

“I still don’t understand how that was the mission.” He started unbuttoning his shirt, throwing glares toward you between motions. “You flirted with him for three days straight, and I’m the one who had to threaten him with my eyes.”

You rolled onto your back, propping yourself on your elbows. “Okay, first of all? I flirted for intel. Second of all? My eyes are way too charming to be threatening. Yours are basically a warning label.”

Bucky turned toward you, now shirtless and already halfway toward a full post-mission rant. “And what was that move on the dance floor? Spinning under my arm and then dipping me?”

“I was improvising,” You said, completely unapologetic. “You’ve got to keep the enemy and your emotionally stable, suspiciously hot boyfriend on their toes.”

He dragged a hand down his face and collapsed on the bed beside you, staring at the ceiling like maybe it held answers. Or perhaps a portal to a dimension where you came with an instruction manual.

After a few seconds, you nudged his arm with yours. “Hey.”

He gave a grunt that was probably meant to mean what.

You turned your head to look at him, eyes mischievous but a little softer now. “You were incredible tonight. And not just in the threatening murder-y boyfriend way. You… you made it look real. Like the kind of real that even I forgot wasn’t part of the job.”

His expression shifted, just slightly. A muscle in his jaw tensed, then relaxed. “That’s because it wasn’t fake for me.”

You blinked. Slowly.

Bucky didn’t look away, voice low and steady. “I didn’t have to pretend. I wasn’t acting. Holding your hand, kissing you, standing next to you like I’d level the entire building if someone looked at you wrong? That’s just me.”

There was a long silence.

You sat up a little. “So you’re saying your threats were from the heart.”

“Absolutely,” He said, deadpan. “A real romantic.”

You laughed, then bit your lip because beneath the teasing, your chest was starting to ache in that warm, tight way it always did when he said something like this. Honest. Unfiltered. Quietly devastating.

“…You really didn’t mind it?” You asked, gentler now. “Being in the spotlight like that? Having to do the whole fake PDA spy-lovers thing in front of fifty potential war criminals?”

“I’d do it again,” He said, shrugging. “I mean, I’d rather not wear a tie. Or waltz in front of a crowd. Or drink champagne I’m 90% sure was drugged.”

“Bucky-“

“But if it means being with you- really with you, I’ll show up. Every time. Even if it’s fake. Even if it’s chaos. Even if I have to pretend.”

You blinked hard and let your head drop onto his chest, burying your face against his skin.

“You’re gonna make me fall in love with you all over again, you bastard.”

He smirked, hand coming up to run through your hair. “Good. You need a reminder sometimes.”

You muttered something into his chest that sounded suspiciously like, “I can’t believe I’m dating an actual heartthrob.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I can’t believe I’m dating a raccoon with a genius IQ and no self-preservation instinct.”

You grinned. “Soulmates.”

“Unfortunately.”

#Earth’s mightiest headache #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #marvel x reader #marvel fic #bucky x you #bucky x reader #chaotic!reader

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zstartrixxx · 2 months ago

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ℬleed 𝒾𝓃 ℬloom

ᵐᵘⁿᶜʰꜝʳᵉᵐᵐᶦᶜᵏ ˣ ᶠᵉᵐꜝʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

+18 CONTENT ADULT. something involving bites and inner blood (classic) but again: it's not menstrual blood. | 𝖬𝖠𝖲𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖫𝖨𝖲𝖳

THE SENSITIVE FLESH WAS LIGHTLY SCRATCHED ONLY TO BE SOOTHED BY A TONGUE WHOSE SOFTNESS BROUGHT YOU A CARESSING SENSATION. But when you looked at the hands gripping your thighs, the entire perspective of that moment transformed: they were the claws of a monster, sharp nails that came dangerously close to piercing you. Yet you loved this contrast—the subtlety of the wet touch on your inner thighs against the appearance of the creature making you bleed.

Bleeding. Slowly, wetly, he scratched deeper into the delicate skin of your thigh—so close to your pussy, which throbbed under the vampire's caresses. You felt his kisses blooming in circles around your intimacy, nearing your core, almost reaching that hidden place pulsating and weeping with need. Your lips parted to moan his name between ragged breaths, the name already etched upon them:

"Remmick…"

"Yes, my love?" Instantly, the man lifted those deer-like eyes to you: large, with dilated pupils reflecting a copper-red light, his brows twisted in an expression of mercy and near servitude. He smiled with those full lips devouring you in so many serene ways, as if not revealing his sharp teeth, his true nature laid bare before you. Your hand found his face—cold from the death preserved in his monstrous, vampiric nature, yet smooth as velvet. Your fingers traced his lashes, his cheek, his ear, then traveled upward to tangle in the straight, dark strands of his hair, black as the veil of night, before you spoke:

"Make me bleed for you, my love. Tonight, I let you bite me deeper…"

As if hearing the salvation of his soul in that instant, Remmick grinned from ear to ear, his eyes sparking, thick drool dripping from his lips—God, he couldn’t contain so much hunger, so much desire, so much longing to have you deeply, secretly. To suck you in your most intimate place, to feel the softness of your tender flesh yielding to his teeth, to hear you moan and whimper from the sharp pain, to make you his precious chalice where your blood brought him absolute peace.

"Oh, my love, but that sounds like the most ancient angelic hymns to my ears!" You laughed at his playful, affected tone as he adjusted his position before you: seated on the edge of the bed, your skirt bunched around your waist, the red lace panties pooled around your right foot, your heels discarded in a corner, leaving only the sheer white ⅞ tulle stockings clinging to your thighs, the matching garter belt holding them in place. Remmick adored seeing you like this—surrendered in lace and silk for him. All those nights he came knocking at your door, holding a candle, with pleading eyes and wicked smiles, he hoped to find you as delicate and soft as the garments you wore.

The best part? This was your dark secret. Something only you knew and had the pleasure of experiencing: a gorgeous vampire who came to your door every dawn, thirsty for you, craving your blood and your pleasure.

Remmick had already torn countless pieces of your lingerie with his claws or teeth—and replaced them with new ones just to see you dressed in them. He loved your body exactly as it was and exalted you with whispers that made your skin prickle: "You are so beautiful, my lady. I could easily die again just from gazing at you."

And there he was, hiking your skirt higher just to admire the garter belt, looking at you with passion—could vampires fall in love? Was it servitude? Lust? Love…? It didn’t matter! As long as he sucked you dry, all was well. You smiled eagerly, gripping your thighs tighter as he settled perfectly between your legs draped over his bare shoulders. The contrast of your burning, sweat-slicked skin against his cold, dry flesh made you shudder, nearly collapsing onto the bed. But no—you wouldn’t miss the spectacle about to unfold. Anticipation coiled in your belly as you waited for him to act.

Remmick leaned into your right thigh, placed a noisy kiss, locked eyes with you—with your soul—then parted his lips and bit down.

"Oh God! Fuck, that’s good!" You cried out immediately, lost in a delirium of pain and pleasure. The pain of flesh bitten, pierced, penetrated, trapped between teeth with force. The sensation of your blood welling from the open wound and being sucked away. And the pleasure of watching him bite you so close to your core, his eyes fixed on you. He pulled away with a wet pop, his sharp fangs sliding free from your bleeding flesh, only to lick the wound, tormenting the sensitive skin of your thigh with his tongue, lapping while smearing himself in your inner blood.

You stifled greedy moans of pain and pleasure, one hand fisted in his hair while the other braced against the bed. Closing your eyes, you saw red streaks behind your lids—like the blood he drank from you—something blooming inside, spilling not just from the mark left by the vampire but from your very core, as if expressing how delicious this was. Remmick chuckled darkly:

"I love when you go all soft and messy with blood for me—" He planted another wet kiss on the wound burning with fresh blood, the perfect imprint of his teeth now etched into your skin like a tattoo: "—bleeding and coming for me."

He then slid his mouth to kiss your other thigh, gripping your waist to pin you in place as you whimpered again, more sensitive now, your pussy nearly dripping, pulsing alongside the fresh wound. A strained cry escaped you:

"Remmick!"

All you heard was his laughter.

And then those deer-like eyes lifting to yours—so innocent and bright, pleading for you and your surrender. He bit into the soft flesh, drank your blood, licked and kissed the new mark. You couldn’t take it; everything pulsed and vibrated for him, your toes curling against his shoulders, your hands scrambling for purchase—his arms, his hair, his hands.

Until finally, you couldn’t hold back. And Remmick knew you so well that he simply slid his blood-wet licks closer to your core, that hidden place throbbing, dripping. But he stopped, dragging his bloodied lips—your blood—and the tip of his nose along your folds, making you gasp. Drenching you further.

Just when you thought he’d finally kiss you where you ached most, where you pulsed with the frantic rhythm of your heart, where he’d make you weep for him—Remmick lifted his head, leaving you hollow; a gap between the bleeding marks and your needy pussy. His expression was violent desire, his half-lidded eyes blazing with lust, his ecstatic smile making him glow like a profane god.

You glared at him indignantly, wordlessly demanding an explanation, taking in his disheveled hair, his lips smeared with blood and saliva, his wicked grin. You tried to voice your frustration when he silenced you with a gesture—a sharp-nailed finger pressed to his lips, a malicious "shhhhhhh," his face twisted in sadistic delight:

"No, my princess, no need to cry. I’m only just beginning to make you beg for me now."

Your eyes widened. Remmick laughed hoarsely, returning his mouth to where it should never have left.

In you. For you. With you.

Bleeding in you.

ℱooter 𝒞oments: so, i’ve had this very specific scene in my mind and it wouldn’t leave unless i wrote it down so voilà, here i am to write a remmick who’s all thirsty and whiny, who loves to give little love bites (and pain) to his beloved, to make her bleed and come at the same time. i took inspiration from some very specific things (that might not make sense but here we go): that scene with ana and peter in "the great" where she asks him to ‘do that thing with his tongue on her,’ plus that connie and oliver scene (y’all know exactly which one), something like akasha and lestat in "queen of the damned" (bathtub scene), nirvana’s in bloom (idk ???), a lot of weird shit inside me, and well—this VERY ABSTRACT and specific idea of blooming like a flower but in blood. that kind of vibe. all of it with remmick’s face in the middle (and his fangs, obviously). that’s it.

#[★] zstartrixxx #[⋆♱⋆] zstar fanfics #remmick #remmick fanfic #I JUST NEEDED TO GET IT OUT #THIS WAS ON MY MIND A FEW DAYS AGO #remmick x reader #remmick × reader #remmick smut #remmick × you #remmick x you #[🦇] zstar jack o'connell

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screampied · 1 year ago

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pleasepleaseee write something about vampire choso

❤︎ ໋𓈒 teaching vampire choso how to please you

warnings. fem! reader, biting, inexperienced choso, praise kink, unprotected sex, creampie, mdni.

vampire choso would be twice as sensitive as the normal human.

just feeling the warmth of your breath waft against his skin, pecking a wet kiss against his cheek was enough to make him let off a soft whimper. he was utterly infatuated with you. your taste especially, there’s never go a dull moment where he wouldn’t have his fangs softly buried into the crook of your neck. “s-sweet,” he’d murmur out, dragging his tongue softly against your skin. the sharp edges of his tongue wasn’t too pierced, but pulled down just enough to leave a few bite marks. “i want more of you, please..”

“you don’t—”

“jus’ teach me, show me,” and as he spoke, his words trembled as you were propped up on his lap—you felt how warm choso was, his body heat was something you couldn’t ignore. his bottom lip quivers before he pouts, and you felt his hardened bulge rub off against you. “i- i just wanna make you feel good. show me what to do.”

“okay,” you smile, planting a kiss near the tip of his nose, a soft whimper following from your gesture. he wasn’t kidding, he yearned to make you feel some sorts of pleasure.

choso wasn’t a virgin…he’s had his share of sheer intimacy, yet it’s been quite some time.

ever since he stumbled upon you, he’s been longing to feel some sorts of erotic delectation for himself.

as he’s hovering above you, choso heavily pants. his frame completely towers of you—you’re sat there with a cute smug grin, and you stare as his abs clench with his arms laid against the sides of you.

“you gonna stare at me all day, baby?”

you tease at the vampire, and immensely, he grows rather flustered, a fiery heat rising towards the outer tips of his pointed ears.

“s-sorryyy…princess, you’re just s-so pretty underneath me,”

he huffs out, heaving in and out. you stare into his eyes, and it was half-lidded. he’s always had this tired look about him, the darkened horizontal mark that ran across the bridge of his nose.

his favorite thing of you to do would be whenever you’d skim a thumb softly against it, pressing a few warm kisses against the mark.

“start slow, ‘s okay.” you coo, yours eyes were sweet and gentle — he couldn’t help but whine at your facial expressions. so pure, so perfect…

“hold- hold my hand.” he stammers, and you look let off an abrupt gasp once his swollen tip goads against your slick entrance.

“you’re…such a baby,” you’d let out, intertwining your fingers against his anyway.

“…yeah, ‘m your baby,” he sniffles, and he’s gradually letting himself in. you have a free hand that digs into the paleness of his back, scratching down with your lip being bitten by the top of your teeth. he was so thick, such girth being met that you were just completely taciturn. soft whines left from your lips, and the moment he goes inside of you, choso lets off a shaky, “f-fuckk,” and that makes your pussy pulse.

once choso gnaws against his lip, letting off a quiet sigh once he starts to slowly insert himself inside you, he lets off various suppressed grunts of “f-fuck,” or “babyyy,” and even, “s-shit.”

despite being a vampire, choso wasn’t too fond on sucking your blood. peculiar a bit, maybe…

but he much rather preferred sucking against the tenderness of your skin, coating you with bite marks…or even just letting you touch him everywhere. to him, that was more than enough to satisfy him.

“choso,” you’d mumble, lightly tapping the side of his cheek. he stares at you, letting off a ‘hm’ with his eyebrows raising, bringing his moans to a halt. “can- can you try talking dirty to me?”

“dirty?” he sibilates, the scorching warmth of your folds hugging him tight, keeping him thermal made his ears ring. he leans in to kiss you, and he’s starting up a cute hesitating pace before his pupils dilate, “o-oh,” and he watches a smile pull against your lips. “i don’t know how to um—degrade, baby.”

“say anything.” you’d whisper, and you can feel him stretching you out, his long yet well trimmed nails softly graze against your tummy to watch you quiver before he swallows thickly.

choso leans into your neck before panting, “okay,” and he sounds so cute — like always, he can’t help but run the ridges of his fangs amongst your neck, sucking briefly before rasping out, “y-you’re so—so um, tight ‘n wet. i wanna pump so much cum into your vagi—,” and then he buries his head into your neck, “….this is embarrassing..”

you giggle, brushing your fingers against his neck. “baby, you’re doing good.”

“am i?” he croaks, and for a split second, the vampires voice cracks.

it’s cute…

his tempo remained steady, yet his hips and thrusts against you were entirely sloppy. such squelches came out your cunt to where your ankle starts to rub up and down his waist.

he was so desperate for your praise, his acicular pointed ears always raised and twitched whenever he heard a single praise from you. just telling him how good he’s doing, how good he’s making you feel. all he wanted was to just be enough for you.

“yeah, promise,” you’d smile at him, and that was all it took for him to mash his lips against yours. his body grinds against you, and he’s so hot—you feel his hardened abs press against you each time he rocks and rocks against you.

it’s simply hypnotic, his movements.

you drove him crazy. choso had to be careful not to bite your tongue with the fangs, and that he was.

he’d moan into your mouth once you’d pull him closer. he tasted sweet, and he gets goosebumps once he feels you deepen the kiss while licking your legs around his waist.

choso’s base was hefty, there was no denying it. it continued to slap and slap against your pussy, the noises reverb throughout the room to where it’s just about the only sound you can make.

his nose nudges by yours before he playfully nips at your lip. a soft prick from his fangs before he lets off a loud moan. “baby, ‘m feeling tingly..”

“already?” you utter, staring deeply into his eyes. a pout goes over his lips at your teasing tone before you giggle, bringing him into a quick sneak kiss. “you—you can cum inside.”

“…you’d let me?” he moans, the silk running off your tone made him so hard, he didn’t know how to explain it. watching you nod, he shivers, smothering your face with various kisses to where you could barely keep your eyes open. “i— i wanna fill you so bad, you…you don’t know how much i’ve been saving for you, m-my love.”

“show me then,” you whine, and the eye contact the two of you shared was so sensual. it was intimate, as it should be. you feel him quicken his pace against your entrance, his jaw tightens and he moans.

choso’s still holding onto your hand, yet at this point, he’s squeezing it tight. he leans in to lick a long stripe up your neck. he can’t help but savor your taste each time. you were such a sweet treat.

“y-you make me wanna taste you more,” he whimpers, and you hear as his breath hitches. his voice grows a bit hoarse due to the constant moaning he’s making — and it doesn’t take long before after a few sloppy jagged thrusts, choso breaks.

when he came, it was so much…

such ropes, thick ropes. you felt every spill, he filled you up to the brim. it’s wet, and he’s an entire mess. choso’s practically hugging you, and it feels wet. the sensation of your walls freely accepting his load makes his teeth shatter in desperation. “f-fuck, i told you..”

but he wasn’t done, he was addicted.

choso feels you grip tighter against him and he nearly looses it. he’s still shaking.

spurting such dumps of his cum into you to where it’s so filthy. it starts to drip down your inner thigh, and he’s so sensitive. choso’s fangs deep into your neck again, this time he’s just lightly biting down, moans being muffled by his canines pressing against your feeble skin.

“h-how did i do?” he sighs, still sucking against your neck — his dick remained still inside of you, and he purrs softly once he feels your fingers roam through his hair. “did i…did i do good? ‘m sorry i didn’t last that long..”

“you did great, baby,” you reply, bringing him into a deep kiss. choso’s heart bested rapidly at your words, he leans into your touch as his tongue curls against yours. he was panting, warm breath colliding against yours before he pulled away, whining out a timid,

“f-fuck, i love you.”

“huh?” you’d mutter, meeting his gaze before he turned away, face turning flushed once he realized what he said.

choso pulls you close to his chest, still feeling himself pour into you before he rasps. “i— i really like you, thank y—you.”

he was definitely in love..

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