meowdei - Tumblr blog

meowdei · 5 hours ago

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── she's my lucifer. blade x f!reader

. ˳༚༅༚ explicit content, smut, mdni: bondage, threats, power dynamics, power imbalance (reader is in control but blade is usually dominant), brat!reader, size difference, masochism, sarcasm from blade, degradation, dry humping, female masturbation, hair pulling/marking, pet names (devil, brat, pretty girl)

♱ word count: 2.6k

♱ synopsis: power resides where men believe it resides. it's a trick. truth is, power is a fickle thing. and even the most fearsome men may eventually lose their power ... to the one they love. alternatively, blade agreed to let you do whatever you want with him for once but didn't expect you to enjoy tying him up so much :)

The deathly stare boring daggers into your soul would, under normal circumstances, send your fight-or-flight alarm off with loud sirens. You've learned over time that Blade's mood swings are not for the weak-hearted; they are volatile, unyielding, and sharp enough to cut down anyone who dares to toy with him.

And yet, despite all your knowledge, a devious smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

After all, it was Blade's very own doing that he now found himself in this precarious situation. He agreed to hand over the reins for tonight—a very special sort of anniversary present, so to speak.

But who would have thought you could enjoy this moment so much? Seeing him like this? Feeling powerful like never before as Blade, the hunter, the predator, is caught in a trap of his own making.

Usually, you're the one at his mercy, bound and aching, with every fibre of your being craving the barest touch. Blade would loom over you like some dark deity, his sharp eyes drinking in the sight of his prey squirming beneath him.

It suits him.

It always suited him.

Until now.

Now. Tonight, it's his wrists bound to a broad, luxurious armchair that dominates the room. Its heavy frame was chosen deliberately for this little game. Hidden beneath the elegant, silky scarves looped around his wrists and tied to the sturdy arms of the chair are thin, reinforced chains—lightweight enough to be concealed by fabric but strong enough to withstand even his strength.

A necessary precaution, one he should have noticed if he hadn't been so... distracted.

The soft lights of the city bathe Blade's pale skin in a cool glow, illuminating his scarred figure to your hungry gaze. The remaining buttons of his tight dress shirt struggle to hold against the ragged rise and fall of his breath. And the curtain of dark silky strands drapes over his shoulders while the shorter pieces lie dishevelled across his sharp features.

It's a stark contrast to the composed image he usually tries to don.

“You're enjoying this far too much,” Blade murmurs through gritted teeth, his voice low and bothered. That infamous glare of his bores into you, silently daring you to flinch, to yield, to even waver for a second.

But you don't.

Why don't you?

You've seen him angry before, but this is different.

You blink at him slowly, once or twice, feigning innocence perfectly. However, that glint in your eyes betrays your act. “Am I?” you hum while your greedy fingers just can't keep to themselves.

They ghost over the edges of his shirt, just barely brushing against toned muscle.

“Think this is funny?” He warns with a low voice. Though you notice the faintest dusting of pink blooming across his cheeks.

The sight causes your grin to widen, convincing you to lean forward so your face hovers just inches from his own. “Look at you,” you murmur with fingers wandering lower, teasing the edges of his belt.

“All tied up and helpless. All pretty just for me. How the tables have turned, hmm?”

His lips part, just slightly, enough for you to notice the sharp inhale he tries to mask. Ah, this won't do. He keeps his composure far too well. So you press your palm flat against his chest, feel the drumming beat of his heart against his ribcage.

Blade's eyes flash with warning, but there's no hiding the heat that burns in his gaze. “You’re playing a dangerous game, brat,” he warns, though the usual sharpness to his tone is lacking.

Now you've got him.

Nobody else would catch that subtle shift. The way his muscles tense, the slightest twitch of his jaw—it's all deliciously telling.

Leaning in closer, your lips graze the shell of his ear as a whisper slips free: “So are you.”

His breathing grows heavier then, his mask of indifference slipping bit by bit under your teasing touch—half from the strain of holding back, half from the intoxicating mixture of anger and desire.

“What’s the matter?” You pause, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “You're not used to being on this side of things, are you?”

Silence.

His lips press into a thin line, though the fire in his gaze speaks volumes until eventually...

“Enough.”

The command snaps through the air, but the tremble in Blade's voice betrays him. The willpower to maintain control is crumbling, and you can't help but savour every second.

“Enough?” you echo softly. “Oh, my love…”

Those devious hands of yours move once again, grazing over his racing pulse and dipping beneath the fabric of his shirt. “We're just getting started.”

“You're pushing your luck,” he spits out between, his voice low and venomous. “You might not like what happens when I get free.”

The tilt of your head is a feigned act of innocence as you let your hand glide lower, stopping just at the waistband of his trousers. Your free hand drifts to his thighs, tracing teasing patterns over the smooth, dark fabric. “I'm counting on it,” you reply, your voice laced with challenge. “But for now... you'll behave.”

At that, you claim his lap as your playground, straddling him fully on the large and heavy armchair.

A muscle in Blade's jaw tightens as he shifts beneath you. You take your time, letting your fingers drift lower, tracing the edges of his ribs before brushing against the faintly raised skin of a scar on his shoulder. Blade's teeth clench, his muscles tensing against the restraints.

The sight of him, so undone and yet so desperate to maintain control, is enough to make your pulse race.

However, Blade remains silent. Only share the secrets of his inner turmoil as they burn into yours. Meanwhile every inch of his posture screams defiance, and yet, beneath it all, you sense the faintest flicker of surrender.

It's intoxicating—seeing a man so unyielding, so unshakable, brought to the edge by your hands.

“How many times have you had me like this? Bound, desperate, at your mercy?” You seem to ask nonchalantly while trailing your fingers down his chest with featherlight precision, and feel the way his muscles twitch beneath your touch.

“It's only fair I return the favour, don’t you think? After all... it's our anniversary.”

For a moment, he doesn’t move as though caught between resistance and surrender. The unspoken tension palpable like taut string ready to snap at the slightest push.

“I’ll give you this,” you murmur, your voice softening as your lips ghost over his, “you wear frustration beautifully, Bladie.”

A flicker of something, pride? Desire? Crosses Blade's face, though he's quick to school his features back into a mask of cold indifference. But the faint flush in his cheeks betrays him, as does the way his crimson eyes linger on your lips a moment too long.

“Careful, pretty girl”, his voice is quieter now, yet no less intense.

You shift against him, your weight pressing deliberately into his lap, the friction between your bodies sparking a heat that he can't possibly ignore.

Blade's head tips back, his bound hands balling into fists upon the reminder of their restrictions. Though it's that oh-so attractive, breathy chuckle of frustration rumbling from deep within his chest that causes your most beautiful smile to grace your features.

“So cute when you're all bark and no bite,” you reply through a breathy moan, while your fingers claim further territory; undoing buttons until he's exposed to your hungry gaze.

The thick fabric of his trousers does little to mask how bothered he become. The evident outline of his erection presses awfully against its restraints, and you revel in the way his breath grows heavier, more uneven, as you grind down against him.

"You're unbearable," he warns, his voice rough and strained, though it lacks the conviction you're used to.

You smirk, leaning forward until your faces are only inches apart, close enough to feel the heat radiating off his skin. “And you’re adorable when you're like this,” you counter.

Your hand moves to his chin, your fingers curling around it with just enough force to command his attention.

“Look at me, Blade.”

He hesitates, his crimson eyes flickering with anger. But when your grip tightens, tilting his head up so he's forced to meet your gaze, a low growl escapes his lips—a warning, or perhaps a plea.

“Look at my strong hunter now. Tied up, helpless, and at my mercy.”

Your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, tugging at the soft flesh to force his lips to part.

Blade doesn't grant you the joy of a verbal reaction. But his bratty attitude is so irresistible, you really can't keep yourself from leaning in. Soft lips brush over the sharp edges of his jaw before trailing lower to press open-mouthed kisses against the column of his throat.

“Stop,” Blade mutters, but the way he tilts his head to grant you better access betrays him.

“Oh, you don't mean that,” you whisper, just a moment before your teeth graze. The sound that follows one you bite down will live in your mind for many nights to come.

Rough, strained, a little frail almost.

"You're testing me," Blade breathes out. But there's a slight tremor in his words, a crack in his armour that you can't help but exploit.

“Stop testing me, you devil.”

He warns one more time. The creak of the chair is dangerous, the force he uses threatens to break the furniture rather than the god awful restraints of yours.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling harshly enough to wrench a groan from his throat. The sound is raw, unrestrained, and it sends a thrill coursing through you.

“And you love it.”

His eyes snap back to yours, the madness flickering in them like a flame threatening to surge into an inferno.

It's a look you've seen before, during the moments when his condition takes hold, when the shadows in his mind threaten to consume him. But now, that same edge of insanity is paired with something deeper.

“One more strike…” he breathes, his voice low and dangerous, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with a fiery intensity. “You don't know what you're getting yourself into.”

Blade isn't sure where all this confidence, this attitude is coming from but you've never laughed in his face like that—the sound was rich with confidence.

“Oh, I know exactly what I'm doing,” you promise while your hips roll against his with precision.

His lips part, a sharp inhale as though to argue, but the words never come. Instead, his gaze moves between your eyes and your mouth, a war raging within him that he's losing by the second.

“Say it,” you taunt, your voice laced with cruel amusement. “Say you want me to stop.”

The flicker of madness in Blade's eyes deepens, swirling into a storm of fury and barely-contained lust. His chest heaves, his jaw tight, and though his wrists are bound, his presence still looms over you like a shadow you could never escape.

For a moment, the room falls silent, save for the ragged sound of your combined breathing. And then, after what feels like an eternity, Blade gives in.

“Don't.”

And yet, even with his composure cracking, even with his body betraying him, he dares to defy you.

Dares to make you bounce in his lap through the simple push of his legs. It's a cruel reminder of how little power you truly hold once you fall into his chest and brace yourself with your palms pushed flat against his pecs.

Blade bends down for his lips to ghost along your drumming pulse until they whisper in your ear: “Keep this up and I'll break you the moment my hands are free, brat.”

You've really had enough of his sharp tongue and biting glares. But you don't grant him the reaction he wants to garner from you.

With a smirk playing on your lips, you arch your back, and make a show of the ascend of your hands until they cup your breasts, teasing yourself shamelessly in full view of his burning gaze. The slow grind of your hips against his aching cock has Blade biting back a deeply satisfied groan, but the slight hitch in his breath gives him away.

Still, he refuses to give in.

“Is that all you've got?” he mocks, though his eyes can't hold contact if you play with yourself in front of him. It's too infuriating to see how your smaller hands cup his property while his own body itches to pinch your nipples, to squeeze your tits, to bite into the soft flesh until you whine.

“Is it?” you reply, before catching him off-guard as you rise to the challenge.

You lean forward to press a fiery kiss against his lips. His initial resistance only lasts a second before Blade moans into your mouth, the sound rough and raw, as though dragged from somewhere deep within him.

When you pull away, his lips are parted, his breathing heavy, and his glare is darker than ever.

“Look at you,” you murmur, your voice a mixture of amusement and arousal as he seems hypnotised by the hand travelling down your stomach, over your barely clothed pussy.

He knows he could touch you better, make you cry out heavenly just from pinching your needy clit.

“Look at you, so helpless, so desperate to touch me…” You dare to mock him further.

Though why not add further salt to the wound?

So, you turn to have your back pressed against his chest as you position yourself comfortably in his lap. The full view of your body follows once your feet come to rest on his knees, keeping yourself spread wide, while you grind lazily down on the bulge pressing against your backside.

In this position, Blade looms over you, staring down at your figure compromised in his lap—so willing, so desperate to get fucked. His bound hands twitch, his muscles trembling with the effort to keep still as your fingers push your panties aside, revealing his favourite treat to his hungry eyes.

You feel his deep, uneven breaths against your neck, almost like he tries to get a sniff of your scent. Low groans vibrate beside your ear with every push of your fingers inside your pussy as though Blade imagined it to be his fingers curling deep inside your clenching walls.

Your movements grow needy quickly. You're desperate to make yourself feel half as good as he can, aren't you? Look how your fingers pump faster, how you try to synchronise the swirl over your clit while grinding along his clothed cock.

This isn't about his torture anymore.

“You're pathetic,” Blade finally whispers in your ear. “Humping me like some desperate little animal in heat.”

His lips curl into a cruel smirk. “You know what you're missing out on, don't you?”

His words sting, but the heat in his tone only spurs you on. “You talk too much,” you snap and swiftly reach behind you to tangle your fingers in his hair.

You pull hard enough to wrench a pained groan from his throat. But the 'punishment' also forces Blade to watch get an even better view of how your smaller fingers push in time and time again, never quite reaching the delicious spots his fingers find all too easily.

“That's it,” he whispers, his voice dropping to a dangerous tone. “Keep going. Show me how desperate you really are.”

The low murmur of encouragement sends shivers down your spine, and your movements become frantic. Your fingers work faster, your hips grinding harder against him as your back arches, pressing your head against his shoulder to give him a perfect view of everything.

Blade's teeth grit as his body tenses beneath you, his chest rising and falling in uneven gasps. “You look hopeless like this,” he whispers, though his voice wavers, his composure slipping. “Small hands, trembling legs… You're not even close to handling your little orgasm, are you?”

“Shut up,” you hiss, before twisting your body as much as possible to crash your lips against his in a searing kiss. A kiss that drowns out whatever insult he was about to throw.

His groan vibrates against your mouth as his teeth nip at your bottom lip, claiming the kiss as his own.

It's at long last that final push that sends you over the edge. Your body trembles, your movements falter, and your lips part in a ragged gasp as you shatter against him, the pleasure rippling through every nerve.

Blade breathes heavily against your neck, his teeth ruining your skin as his bound wrists strain, his entire body coiled tight with frustration and desire, and his cock aching at the thought of stuffing you full.

Silence cloaks the room, setting the stage for your heavy breathing to fill the space, accompanied by the faint creak of the chair as Blade shifts beneath you. His lips brush against your ear, and his voice is low, dangerous, and dripping with promise as he whispers, “Enjoy it while you can.”

divider by @/cafekitsune

#read soon

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