#fem reader insert

[mystictimemachinedream]

No Mercy

a/n: Damn, I haven't posted in a while but I finally had some ideas. This was just a filthy idea that came to me lmao. I should be posting another fic soon enough but it will be much longer than this.

Leviathan x Reader.

Cw: Rough Sex, Jealous!Levi, Possessiveness, Double Penetration, Degradation, Choking, Dumbification, Levi having two dicks, Creampies, Fem!reader, kinda OOC.

-----------------------

You had no idea how you ended up like this—on your hands and knees, your back arched so obscenely deep that your ass was high in the air, presenting like some desperate bitch in heat. You’d been like this for what felt like hours, stuffed full of two thick cocks, stretched beyond reason, your cunt clinging to them greedily despite not knowing how the hell they even fit in the first place. But they did—oh, they did—and now, they dragged against your slick, gooey walls, each thrust sending pleasure-cracked lightning through your body. One thick, blunt cock nudged mercilessly against your sweet spot while the other rammed into your cervix over and over, a punishing rhythm that left you shaking and delirious, every nerve in your body reduced to raw sensation.

The filthy plap! plap! of skin against skin echoed through the room, mingling with your ragged moans. Every thrust sent Leviathan’s heavy balls smacking against your swollen clit, the impact making your toes curl, your body shudder. It felt too good—too much. Your eyes rolled back as you drooled onto the floor, your body strung tight between pleasure and unbearable need.

“L-Levi! I-it’s—ah!—too much!” You whimpered, weakly trying to crawl forward, your trembling hands dragging uselessly and pathetically against the smooth floor. But you barely made it an inch before he growled, his long, serpentine tail snapping around your waist like a vice.

With a sharp yank, he hauled you back hard onto his cocks, impaling you deeper, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your vision blurred with white-hot pleasure as he bottomed out, stuffing you so full your cunt spasmed around the thick intrusion, making you choke on a broken scream.

“But it wasn’t too much when you were acting like a little slut around Belphie, huh?” Leviathan spat, his voice laced with venom. One clawed hand cracked down onto your ass—

SMACK!

A high-pitched mewl ripped from your throat as your abused cunt clenching down around him like a vice, milking him without even meaning to. His rhythm never faltered—deep, ruthless strokes that had your thighs quivering, your mind unraveling at the edges. Your mind scrambled, barely able to grasp what he was talking about—Belphie?

Vaguely, you remembered the youngest brother trying to tug you down for a nap, how you’d squirmed away, desperately refusing because you knew how Leviathan got. As much as he was the awkward, blushing otaku who stammered at the mere mention of holding hands, he was also the Avatar of Envy. And when that envy took hold of him?

He fucked you like the demon that he was, like he needed to carve his claim into your body, brand you from the inside out.

And fuck, it was always so hot.

“I-I—ngh!—didn’t d-do anything,” you moaned, only to yelp when Levi yanked your head back by your hair, exposing your throat, forcing your back into an even deeper arch. His cocks drove into you even harder, your walls stretching around him in helpless surrender. You swore you could feel him in your throat with how impossibly deep he was.

“Didn’t do anything? That w-wasn’t—ah!—an apology, you fucking whore,” Leviathan sneered, his sweaty indigo bangs plastered to his forehead, coral horns gleaming under the ethereal blue glow of his massive fish tank. Henry 2.0 swam lazily in the background, oblivious to the debauchery taking place in front of him.

The creamy mess at the base of his cocks was proof of how many times he had already wrung you dry—how many times he had forced your spent cunt to cum, again and again, until you were nothing more than a twitching, babbling wreck.

Another sharp tug on your hair made you cry out, his claws digging deep into your waist. He was always so mean when he fucked you like this, so cruel. You knew if you didn’t apologize properly, he’d break you completely—fuck you until you passed out, just to prove a point. It only made your cunt clench even more tightly around his cocks at the thought.

When he changed his pace, slowing just enough to make you feel every thick vein, every ridge, your forehead dropped against the cool floor. You drooled messily onto it, shuddering, your pupils practically heart-shaped at the change in pace. He pulled out almost completely, leaving just the fat, leaking heads stretching your entrance, before driving all the way in again, burying himself to the base, grinding deep. The pressure against your cervix made your breath hitch, made your walls squeeze around him in helpless spasms. His tail still kept your hips up, ass high in the air, forcing you to take everything he gave you.

“‘M-‘m sorry! I-I won’t—f-fuck—do it again!” you sobbed, voice breaking into little hiccupping cries. Another deep, merciless grind had you gasping, his cocks stretching you so wide it felt like they were reshaping your insides. “I-I’ll be g-good!”

At your pathetic little plea, Leviathan’s cocks throbbed, the tight heat of your desperate little cunt making him groan. He leaned forward, pressing his sweaty, overheated chest against your back, his hot breath ghosting over your ear as his long fingers abandoned your hair in favor to sliding down—

Oh.

Oh.

A keening whimper tore from your throat as his thumb pressed down, circling your swollen, aching bud in tight, merciless motions. Your cunt instantly clamped down, gripping him in a desperate, needy vice. Fuck—fuck—just that and the slow, deliberate grind of his hips had you teetering on the edge.

“I-I can feel you tightening up,” Levi panted, his breath hot against your ear. His normally pale cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, his sunset-colored eyes glowing orange with predatory hunger. His thumb pressed down harder, faster, dragging you toward the inevitable. “Gonna make a mess on my cocks again, huh?”

Your toes curled. Your eyes rolled. You tried to rock back against him, to get him to pound you again, but his tail kept you trapped. You whined, needy, desperate.

“L-Levi! M-more—ahn!—I n-need more!”

The groan he let out was pure filth, low and breathless. His breath tickled your ear as he dragged his tongue along the shell before pulling back again. You whimpered when his fingers left your clit, but before you could protest, his hands clamped around your waist and—

He slammed into you.

“You were just whining that it was too much, and now you want more?” Leviathan panted, voice rough. “I-I guess—s-shit—I shouldn’t expect anything less from a cock-hungry little slut like you.”

His heavy balls slammed against your clit again, the wet plap! plap! echoing through the room, so obscene you would’ve blushed if you had a single thought left in your fucked-out brain. The sound of your sloppy cunt sucking him in, taking both of his cocks to the root, was filthy. It only made you get wetter, made your slick drip down your thighs, messy and wanton.

One of his hands released your waist and snaked up—

Around your throat.

Your high-pitched squeal turned into something closer to a gargled sob as his grip tightened just enough, the pressure sending you careening straight over the edge. Your body trembled violently, your walls spasming around his cocks, milking them greedily as you gushed, slick dripping down your trembling thigh. Your mind blanked, drowned in white-hot euphoria. You weren’t even sure what you were saying anymore, just slurred, broken babbles of his name.

Leviathan let out a guttural moan, his grip tightening as he slammed into you one last time—twice—before burying himself deep and cumming.

Thick, hot ropes of cum flooded your already abused cunt, making you tremble as the heat pooled inside you. He didn’t stop, didn’t pull out—just rocked his hips lazily, fucking his seed even deeper, filling you until you overflowed.

You barely twitched when his tail gently flipped you onto your back, legs spread, his cum already beginning to leak from your wrecked cunt. You expected him to be back to his awkward, flustered self—to stammer out apologies for being so rough, to blush and look away like he always did.

But your breath hitched when you looked up at him.

He was still in his demon form, his tail flicking idly, those glowing sunset eyes fixed on you like prey. His cocks—still hard—were glistening with his own release, drooling more thick strands onto your already ruined entrance.

Fuck.

“I thought we were done. I already apologized,” you murmured, voice shaky—though your traitorous thighs spread wider in silent invitation. Your twitchy, leaking cunt clenched around nothing, desperate for him to fill it again.

Leviathan’s lips curled, his tail coiling possessively around your waist. He took both of his cocks in one hand and—

Pap! Pap! Pap!

He slapped your soaked, needy cunt with the heavy, leaking heads, making you jolt, slick spilling even more in anticipation.

“It wasn’t good enough,” he murmured, voice dangerously low. “You need to give me a better apology.”

Leviathan was definitely going to fuck you unconscious.

Again.

[joannasteez]

conejita

pairing: damian priest x reader warning: smut. nsfw!! use of pet name. “conejita” means “bunny” authors note: yeahhhhhhh…. expect more probably? this also works as a “sister fic” to @harmshake recent damian fic because we’ve been at it for days talking about this man lmaooooo. word count: like 800 i think…. tags: @333creolelady @kill-the-artiste

"mhphm".

a bright, little noise. sounding from the throat. a little broken. shuddered up really. far too breathy to be anything other than delicate. like a feather. flitting and fragile. a trembling in your legs, the weight of his touch—his caress and the sweep of his thumbs, just there, swirling over your nipples—a measured thing that makes your head spin. a swimming behind the eyes. 

you dig into him. needful. nails holding over the motion of his hands. searching for a reprieve, some grounding. thighs spread wide, an accommodation despite the ache. his frame, his build, kneeing into the sheets, your legs bent over his waist. that full, woodsy note to his cologne rushing your nose. bathing your lungs. everything of him, everywhere. a full consumption. lip bitten teeth, tender from that awful fight with patience. a taunting song under the skin, a quick tempo, pulsing deep, right there, trailing from the pit of your belly till its unfurling harsh in your clit. the tender little nub, untouched still, the fabric of your panties darkened and damp. the lavender color ruined by that awful fight still.

and he's particular about these things. colors and scents and temperaments. loves your skin in pastels and littered with spicy, sweet notes. drapes the room in a silent expectation. those eyes. those hands, kneading in again. a soft pinch that makes your breath hitch. and he's unblinking here. looming over. hair falling over his shoulders and his shoulders wide. littered with ink and flexing strong. 

and he's cupping your breast still. a deep thorough touch. a luring out that won't stop till his satisfaction warms over into a hot bursting. lips pulling in to join. a peak of tongue. sweeping the tip of it over. kissing sweetly. a dangerous repetition. soft slipping tongue, wet and curling. a hiss through your teeth and that faithful hitch in your hips. a sharp, ill-mannered grind into nothing but the fabric of your panties. a dirty mixture singing from your throat. a groan and a whine. that awful fight with patience. shallow breaths and a sweet little shake in your hands. 

he breaks off your skin with a pop. humming dark. his eyes closed. focused. fighting with his patience just the same. and what a terrible fight it is. his tight shoulders sagging just the slightest bit. suckling your nipple whole. like the taste there is too much of not enough. like perhaps if he stayed a little longer, that full satisfaction will come, only to find that it's a long ways away. so he stays, groaning into the skin. cheeks hallowing. a lewd sweeping over as he pulls in. your fingers in his hair. a lazy run into his scalp. 

"...fuck...", breaking brightly. thumbing the nape of his neck. arching up into him. the pillows stuffed under your hips soft, as you roll into him. 

he moves, catches your lips into a sloppy kiss. licking in to taste the balm there. another hum that speaks to that reach of satisfaction. a flavor that catches ahold at his tongue, sinking into the palette till he's breaking with a rough shiver all over. the tender split of your lips play into the air. a sweet twist. touch roaming else where, a fine grazing over your belly, closer and yet so far away still. his fingers done up with cold metal rings. that awful fight with patience seemingly the greatest losing battle. your breaths shallow still. hips canting again. eager and a little ways away from unmodified. 

he smiles. kisses your lips and your cheeks. pulls himself upright. pushes against the bend in your knee. the other hand playing and toying with the damp fabric of would be lavender panties. humming amused. your breath hitching again, his thumb sneaking under the messy fabric to glide faint. a dangerous tease of a touch, enough to verify his presence and nothing more. and when you moan annoyed, rife with a terrible ache, he pinches firm. snags your clit between his thumb and pointer for a short little tug. a softness to his eyes that make you melt into the bed. "...my precious girl", he breathes. amused still. "...what'd i say about breathing? about patience huh?...", a note of something firm in his tone. waiting for that sure compliance to befall. your body settling more, releasing, breaths coming easier. "...there you go". 

"damian...", you lament. a grief there in the tone from all that terrible build of an ache. 

and when he peels over the mess of your panties to reveal your pussy, a groan shifts the air. leaves his belly and urges from his throat. like he's been testing his own patience just as harshly, willing himself into waiting, delaying the sweetness of this for a tastier gratification. the thickness of his fingers sink in. a delicious, slow, agonizing stretch that leaves you arching off of those gentle soft pillows again. feeling him nestle deep, enough till he's wet and sticky at his knuckles. lip tucked under his teeth. "how's that feel baby?"

"..i want more..", you groan. grinding to stroke along his fingers. 

he pats your thigh. short bursting stings that keep you from falling too far too fast out of his methods. "...easy hermosa, you'll get everything you need, right? don't i always do that for you?"

you look to him. lashes wet from the overwork of your nerves, nodding quickly. 

he looms over again. the smell of him rolling in. his lips kissing at your ear. slotting his fingers through the tight pulse of your pussy for a lazy little working in. 

"my little conejita".

[valentine-cafe]

🍒 𓂃 𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑬𝑹 𝑼𝑷 : tiramisu !! . . . mercenary ⊹ fem reader .

. ᘛ 𝑓𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔​​​​​​​﹕verse 781 ꮽ  alessio arias

 𐔌𖹭 ˖ ࣪  who's that ?⠀﹕a charming, smug inhuman mercenary, with a provocative sense of humor and a few punches

ּ  ֗ recepit ℘ ... your boyfriend helps you out in the middle of the night, carressing you gently to make sure your aching limbs do not get hurt ⊹ cw ٬٬ comfort sex . reader is struggling with her uterus . gentle manhandling . overall lots of soft intimacy

"C'mon querida, let me help with that."

Slowly, your boyfriend's hand slithers up your body and dips below to caress your back. Gently arch it to try and take some of the pains and pressure off of your body.

It's the pre-menustration alright. Fucking up your body in several ways and preparing you for what is to come. Something much worse than these pains. The forsaken uterus inside of you is one greedy and spiteful woman.

You tried everything today to hinder the pains. Yet no medication, no traditional medicines, no nothing was able to hold just a smidge of what you felt at bay. So your boyfriend took it upon himself to try and help you find a spot of relief.

Shoulders, thighs and back had all received thorough massages and gentle touches to help you stretch. Much like his length that part your walls and gently thrusts away at the sensitive nerves. Your soft sniffles hushed by kisses and coos of love.

"Alessio," you sob and hold onto him, head against his shoulder. Fingers rake across his back and he only lets you. Large hand cupping at the small of your back to push you flush against him. Let you feel the warmth of his body against yours, while he guides the movements of your body meticulously.

"S alright, come on, such a good girl. Gonna cum yeah?"

꒰ ۪ ˖ ࣪ 𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑢 ... info ꮽ mlist ꮽ verse ꮽ wiki .

[kurokawaia]

❛ CHILDHOOD LOVERS ❜

Uzumaki Kawaki X Fem!Reader

WC; 1.6k + | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: MANNGA SPOILERS AT THE END !!! no triggers, just fluffy kinda stuff, reader is kinda depicted as weak or you can look at it that she's weaker than Kawaki, a fem reader, afab reader, fem terms/pronouns

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝑅𝐸𝒬𝒰𝐸𝒮𝒯 :: (filled request) Hello ! Could you write headcanons for Kawaki developing feelings for fem reader who was in Kara then Konoha with him please ? So basically childhood friend to crush/lovers ? Thank you 😊 - ANON

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list

𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 ::

• Growing up at Kara, it was a given that you were shy, along with being incredibly scared. You never had many social interactions apart from with Jigen and with Amado, on the rare occasion, you would've conversed with Delta and Code, but apart from them, that was it.

• You don't have any friends, you linger around Amado as his job was to train you because it was evident that you had no intentions for Jigen to train you. Not having any memories from when before you came to Kara led you to believe that you were born here, you don't remember anything apart from these grey cobalt walls that surround you constantly.

• So, years past to when you were now six, your hand clutched on Amado's as you stood beside him, however, you body was clearly behind his side. You feared what was happening in front of you. It was a rule for you never to stray from Amado's side, apart from one room.

• This room in question was the room that Jigen or more so Isshiki, was finding any child to bare the Karma to be the next vessel. And this, this was your first time laying your eyes on such a scary sight. But then, you head peaked out from behind Amado to see a singular boy inside on of the last tubes and your eyes widen.

"Amado," you whispered out, fear of being heard by Jigen.

"Yes, {Y/n}?" Amado replied in he same whispered tone, although, he wasn't afraid of Jigen as he circled the boy.

"Who's that?" you asked, your finger pointing up discreetly at the boy.

Amado lets out a small sigh before the grip on your hand tightened reassuringly. "He'll be staying here for a while," Amado replies.

Before you could pry further, Jigen's voice boomed through the air. "Amado, why bring the girl here?" Jigen's hands where held behind his back and his deep black eye bore into your own, causing you to hide fully behind Amado's back.

"It's a good experience for her, to see this," Amado replies. "It's essential for her to do so if she is my growing apprentice."

Jigen lets out a sounding hum, indicating that he was thinking over what Amado was saying before agreeing reluctantly, "Fine, make sure she doesn't bother him."

• Then, that was the last you saw the boy for months until he ended up in the infirmary and it was your duty to heal him. That there, was was were it all started. You had no thoughts when treating him, your only job was to heal him as quick as possible.

• The first time you ever helped Kawaki with his injury, before you entered the infirmary, Jigen was outside waiting for you. He had specifically said and stated that you were not permitted to converse with Kawaki unless it was under dire circumstances.

• So, as you were busy catering to his injuries you completely missed his gaze on you. His grey eyes followed your every movement, and for once in his life, he wasn't scared around you, he felt no evil intent radiating off of you, you felt soothing. Kind.

• During the day's Kawaki fell inured or sick, he'd be placed with you so you could heal him as you were gifted with healing, along with your abilities being modified further by Amado.

• Kawaki soon realised that you never spoke, he knew you weren't mute as he's overheard your gentle voice speaking to Amado. He wondered why you never spoke around him, Kawaki wondered if you were even permitted to talk to him, which to what he realised was probably the case.

"That hurt," Kawaki said experimentally, wondering what your reaction was going to be.

Your reaction? Your eyes had widened slightly, your hands freezing as you were disinfecting a wound on his leg.

"Sorry," you mumbled back before continuing with your work.

• Then, in a blink of an eye, months turned into years and you were still the one healing for Kawaki, apart from Amado who occasionally was supervising you or if he was modifying Kawaki's body again.

• During those years, the two of you got closer, Kawaki had actually grown to worry about you, to care about you. You would talk to each other, having actual conversations, you two could be yourselves around each other, even despite the cold environment created by Jigen.

• And during those years, you had realised that this boy, the boy who had turned into a teen to which you had to heal, was the boy that you had fallen in love with.

• When to two of you arrived in Konoha, during and after the crash, Kawaki was protecting you, sheiling you from Garo and the Shinobi of the hidden leaf. You had no fighting experience, so you were behind Kawaki the entire time.

• However, when Kawaki defeated Garo and fainted, you were all alone and scared, worried for what the four people surrounding you might do to you. You were grateful that they didn't injure you in any sort of way, they were surprisingly kind towards you, especially the man who called himself the Hokage. The Hokage let you live with him, give you a place to stay, while during the day, you spent your time by Kawaki's hospital bed, healing him when the doctors and nurses weren't there.

• When Kawaki was finally up and awake, his protective instincts towards you only grew stronger. He’s constantly on edge, making sure no one in Konoha poses a threat to you, especially since you’re both outsider's

• Adapting to the way Konoha is a challenge, as it's so so different than Kara, but having each other has made it easier. The two of you sleep in the same room together, walked everywhere with each other, doing every mundane task with each other.

• Kawaki is too protective of you to leave you alone. He will always be with you no matter where you are. Kawaki knows that you aren't strong, that you only have the enhanced ability to heal others and that you are very adept in the medical field. So, he doesn't want you to get hurt.

• Kawaki is unused to seeing you act with the individuals in Konoha, specifically Boruto. He doesn't like it for an unknown reason, he gets the urge to pull you away from him. Kawaki isn't aware of his feelings yet, he has that unknown feeling inside of him but he didn't know that what he was feeling was love.

• You are free here in Konoha, you have the ability to do whatever you want and you will not get jeopardised. Kawaki has seen you smile more than you ever had in your entire life in this small month. He begins to notice the small things about you that make his heart race, how your eyes light up when you’re happy, how your smile eases his worries, or how your touch lingers a little longer than before.

• However, Kawaki is struggling with these new growing feelings, he's confused on what the emotion is so he gets mad at himself. He gets even more frustrated when this feeling grows whenever your close to him.

• One day, after Delta had attacked the village, Kawaki lets his guard down and blurts out something that makes you both realize how deep his feelings run. It’s awkward, but the truth is out there, and neither of you can take it back. He didn't mean to, he was just so annoyed at himself how he allowed you to get hurt for protecting him recklessly.

• Once Kawaki acknowledges his feelings, he becomes even more protective of you, and he's careful not to hurt you and always checks to make sure you’re comfortable.

• Kawaki isn’t used to expressing affection openly, but he starts showing it in subtle ways, like pulling you closer during cold nights, brushing stray hair from your face, or keeping his hand on your back in crowded places. Kawaki starts to find excuses to be closer to you, like sitting next to you during meals or standing a little too close when you’re together.

• Now onto your first kiss 🤭 It happens when the two of you are alone, and it's quiet. The two of you are probably sitting close to each other in silence. And it was you who began to look at Kawaki first, you were admiring him. It wasn't too long before he realised that you were looking at him, the intensity of your gaze was... intense, to say the least.

• Kawaki swallows a lump in his throat as your eyes flickered down towards his lips and he unconsciously does the same. He only then realises how badly he wanted to close in the distance.

• When Kawaki leans in, you immediately close your eyes as did he. His movements were almost hesitant as his lips gently brush up against yours, as if he was testing if what he was doing what was okay. When Kawaki feels you sigh into the kiss, and when your hand makes placed shakily on his shoulder, gripping his coat, he knew what he was doing was right.

• The kiss was so sweet and tender that it even shocked you, but it shocked Kawaki too. He hadn't realised how good it would've felt to kiss someone that he loves, the kiss feels so natural and he is so gentle.

• After the kiss, Kawaki leans his forehead against yours, closing his eyes as he takes a deep breath. He takes in how your eyes were blown wide.

"I love you, Kawaki," you said quietly, but your gaze was never wavering from his.

"I love you," he replies softly.

• You and Kawaki often find yourselves spending quiet moments together, just enjoying each other’s presence. And, Kawaki makes it clear to you that he won't hurt you, lose you. That, he will do anything to keep you safe.

Even if it includes sealing you with Lord Seventh and Lady Hinata

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | naruto/boruto m.list

[erenspussy420]

Jade, Azul and Floyd with an SO who cries during 🍆💦❤

MDNI 18+ONLY!

A REPOST AS ITS NOT SHOWING IN TAGS

Fem reader!

Word Count:2.7k

Jade Leech, Azul Ashengrotto, and Floyd Leech with a reader who cries during

💖🍆

This was for an anon who asked for this months ago

Pure dirty brain rot, don't expect anything else from me. I wrote this before I went to church class dear lord.

Actually please note anything I write here is obviously not very well researched and this is brain rot purely. This is not the Discovery Channel.

Fem Reader

Tags: cum, public sex, merform, under the sea, ORAL LOTS OF IT, thicc tongue cum eating and no commas for that last one. Totally incorrect underwater stuff.

Jade Leech: When you asked for help with studying about speaking to aquatic creatures for your Magical Studies class, Jade came to mind. The tall handsome mer-eel, the vice warden of Octavinelle, who's grace and unnerving politeness strikes fear as easily as his twin. A vice leader, many would be greedy to have. His grades were nothing to scoff at either.

Jade, with that sharp gaze and polite smile, agreed. So both of you had permission to leave NRC with Jade spearheading the admin office for it. Getting papers signed all in less than an hour. You were thrilled at this! With Jade’s help it would be done so easily! However, you in your kind nature ask what he would like in return for his help. Jade, whose large mer form was submerged in the sea, simply smiled and coaxed you to come closer to him, his long beautiful tail making waves as you leaned down to him.

The closer you came his pupil dilated and his tongue ran over his teeth, the slightest peek of the tip peeking through his lips.

His voice smooth and lulling as he beckons your closer…and you stupidly do.

The damp shirt you wore was see through, Jade's eyes glimmer at the sight and his lips part.

"You see I am quite hungry, I do require something to feast on," Jade said smoothly watching you come closer even if you didn't quite realize it. He was no siren, but Jade didn't need their voices to make one come to him." Something sweet and filling to sate my desire."

No, Jade does not need enchantments of a siren to make you come to him..

You sought him just as he expected. Not knowing what lies behind his eyes, that dilated pupils you can see yourself in that haze. So close to him, you can make out the pigments of his skin, the dots of various blues and grays.

"Okay….Okay I'll feed you," you breathe, feeling your heartbeat quickly.

"How generous of you, come here prefect," Jade croons, closer to you now, a long finger trail down your cheek, a caress of your jaw," come let me feast."

Those eyes pin you in your place as the words that came out died as a whimper.

Whatever innocent intention you had went out the door.

Being splayed out in a remote part of the beach, your bottom half naked with a transformed Jade, sucking your clit as his fingers curl in you making you see stars. You’re blouse torn up, with your tits exposed, nipple coated with saliva and plump.

But like hell you're going to stop the amazing sensation of your pussy being licked and cleaned out after Jade practically drilled into you with that..that..wonderfully thick and sleek cock from the slit he had you eat out.

You can still taste it on your tongue. A taste that is salty but a subtle taste of sweetness.

Your thighs were shaking, coated in thick cum that Jade had lovingly filled you with hours before. His body had curled around you as the pushing of his cock snug into your soaked cunt. His voice low and husky as he kisses you. Tasting your mouth, eagerly as he does since he was rather hungry for you.

Patiently waiting, batting away other nuisances around you.

He wasn't joking when merman cum was more dense, more ugh filling than a simple human boys can be, you can still feel Jade’s mer cock in you.

Jade ruined sex for you, you can’t simply fuck other people when Jade fucked you silly.

Ever so the picture of a perfect gentleman he even offered to clean you up. With the thick tongue he had that filled up all those lewd dreams you had of him when you were alone touching yourself to the excitement of having him in you. You should be embarrassed being out here in public with your sex dripping, practically humping Jade's face as he drags you through the sand, his jacket being your thin protection against it. The heat below demands to be sated and used.

You really should be, but you're not. You cover your mouth, tears slipping down as another rush of pleasure at feeling Jade's tongue hit deeper brushing and pushing up against–

His gaze stuck on your expression, the heat of your body and every cute bounce you do, taking in the way you open your mouth ready to cry out….

He pinches your erect clit, pushing up the bundle of nerves, sending you into a frenzy–

You cry as your orgasm comes, dragging you into the crashing high. Your hands grabbing his head and pushing him more into your pussy, eyes dazed and mouth gasping. Feeling the thick tongue push and push, your walls trying to keep it. Jade only grins. Panting hard, the rush of pleasure and languidly overwhelmed you. Tears dripped down your flush cheeks, you’re thighs were still shaking as you weakly move.”Oh fuck, Jade that was….was—”

Jade watches with predatory eyes glinting in satisfaction as you wreathed under his mouth again. He pulls out his tongue from your heat, flicking his tongue on his way out.

Through the parted lips still coated in slick, he runs his tongue over them. His sharp teeth glint in the soft colors of the sunset.

“Always happy to assist you, my darling.” Jade croons, dragging you down into his arms.The soft subdued heat from him, too cool for a human to be but enough for an mer to be lounging in the sun. You feel lazy, the throbbing between your legs as your orgasm leaves you, you can faintly make out Jade's words.

"I'll always be willing to aide."

.

.

.

Azul Ashen Grotto: we really giving Under the Sea a new fucking meaning.

You give a hint, once or twice, rather many needy hints about getting fucked by Azul's beautiful smooth tentacles. Azul would always yelp out an answer covered by a cough and an attempt to fix himself, before promising you 'one day'. A promise with him lacing your hands as he kisses your knuckles, a flutter of his eyelashes brushing those cheekbones as his cheeks flush. Like how can you not fall a bit more in love with this guy? Manipulative to the fake bone marrow he got, but he really does love you…he just gotta love himself first you know.

However, Azul is nothing but known for his words.

And he fucking delivers.

After a slew of potions you drank, painstakingly made and trialed by students who tried to run, Azul took you to the beach by Octavinelle edges. Far from what a normal student would venture before turning back, but in this case you would need more privacy. He’s carrying you around, with his hand tucked under your thighs with you facing him, resting your head on his shoulders. Floyd and Jade aren’t the only strong ones in their human forms, you know. It's just hard to remember with Azul's slim build. As an octomer-person, his grip and strength never really diminished, just more well restrained. His gloved hands squeezes your thigh, rubbing circles over the warm flesh of your skin.

"Almost there," Azul clears his throat, his face beet red. You kiss him as his magic flares a spell on his lips as a bubble surrounds you. Slowly, Azul pushes into the water, you brace yourself as the water rises, splashing over you in fluid arches but what surprised you more was the subtle ways Azul's body glowed. His form no longer his human body but something much bigger than, his skin a purplish hue and black ink that crept over his shoulders, his back and over the bone of his hips and below they formed in eight long appendages, much bigger than any man or fae on land.

It was rather scary.

It was beautiful.

It was Azul in his full glory, the silver of his hair much brighter than the dew of a pearl.

As the two of you sink below the waves, where the sun sets and darker the ocean seems. The sensation of his tentacles sliding over you calms you down as does it excite you.

In his arm, you kiss Azul's chest and hear the soft noises of bubbles rising as you do. Kissing his chest, up to his neck where you lapped at his throat, and sucked at his neck, you held tight to him as Azul sighs into your hair. The world of deep dark blues and the faint light become darker, as you go deeper. The effects of the potions you drank keep you warm, normal even if you're deep with Azul sleek tentacles wrap around the brilliant colors of purple lighting the dark.

"I hope you don't mind this," Azul's voice is hesitant, a sort of needy tone that asks for you to come to him,"Please…please my darling love all of me."

So you do, bringing Azul into a deep kiss that has him moan, his much bigger body brings you into, his hands in your hair and tongue in your mouth. You can feel the pressure of something sliding between your legs.

Pushing up, back and forth as another rubs your back, feeling suctions of warmth crawling up your legs.

Azul's whimpers as you squeeze your thighs around the tentacle between your legs, building up the slickness in your folds as you cling onto him. Rocking your hips into this tentacle that teases you by pushing more and more into your cunt.

Around you the world seems brighter in hues of pinks and purples, the natural luminous lights of Azul's octo form. Wrapping around you both, as the other tentacles undress you. Flicking at your nipples, when your shirt is off and bra pried off. Your shorts pulled off, the tentacle thicker than the others, its pointed head teasing your slick slit through your panties that made you needy.

Breaking off the kiss, you keel, your hands tight on his shoulders. Whimpering as the suctions of his tentacles latch onto your nipples, another ripping through your panties making itself at home suckling your clit. Azul watched this with wide eyes and his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

Sevens, the pulsing heat as slick drools over the head of his mating tentacle makes Azul squeeze you in his arms. Your arms around him and your legs spread by two tentacles. As two made themselves busy pumping your breasts and your poor cunt getting over stimulation with his mating cock and your clit being abused by suction.

All of this, all of this Azul could feel, his mouth opening letting out guttural moans as you keel louder, your head thrown back as the head of cock pushing in, wriggling itself in your soaked hole.

"Azul! Azul!"

The bubble that held them let a funnel of bubbles rise, as the cries got louder and louder, under the sea.

Floyd Leech: Good luck fucking anyone after him, its never going to be the same

Where Jade was crafty, Floyd had the subtlety of a sledge hammer, his taunting nature making it more obvious what he wanted. That fun day in the lake far away from the camp, Floyd in his eel form was making it his mission to grab you, his sharp fins above water acting like Jaws as he headed towards you.

You really regret showing him that movie and so did half the college campus,  for the next two months.

Even when he terrorized Jamil and Ace, he made sure to carry you away from everyone. Not caring much, after his hands roam your body, squeezing your waist, groping your inner thighs as he licks your skin. In the river, far from crazy Vargas, Floyd with his hands roaming and groping.

Leaving you in a tizzy as even the cool water isn't calming down the throbbing between your legs. Nothing was detering Floyd from holding you in place, from below the water he spreads your legs and begins to mouth at your swimsuit covering your needy part. Unlike Jade, Floyd didn't need no assignment to get you bouncing on his cock.

And by God he is right.

The second he got his tongue into your needy cunt, you practically humped at his face, water splashing violently around you. Eager to rip that annoying swimsuit off, Floyd takes you to the river bank, over a small patch of grass, hands tearing off your bottoms heading for the sweet nectar you're practically gushing out for him.

With a gleeful wide smile open as he pants, his long tongue lolling out. His sharp talons keep your plump thighs spread for him as he devours your soak weeping pussy. He’ll eat you out as long as he wants, till your begging him to fuck you already. Licking his lips, he looks at you with those focused eyes, over your panting naked self, and a sharp toothy grin appears.

Pulling you up by the arm, his hand caressing in a gentle touch from him, up your arm, past your shoulders as a talon pulls across your skin, and he holds your neck. You’re brought down, towards where his upper half and tail merge and  there you see a slit appear, hidden beneath his scales.

“Shrimpy wants me to fuck them silly? Then be a good darling and help it come out,” he laughs in that carefree tone of his as he looks down at you. His grin wide and toothy.

Needless to say, you got to work, kissing the slit, teasing it gently to make it puff up. Licking and working your fingers into the slick slit as Floyd rested on his arms, his loud groans filled the air.  The more you tease, the tip of something long, thick and wonderfully veiny touches your tongue. Floyd lets out an open mouth, yawning hot and labored as the tip reveals the flat head of his cock.

"Ngnnh, Shrimpy mouth is so good," Floyd laughs, as he pushes your face against the large member, slick on your cheek. It felt hot on your skin, with the tip of your tongue you lap at it, as Floyd's hand combed your hair."Hehe, I can't wait to stuff your pussy."

You felt the heat throb between your legs as you taste the beads of precum, hearing a hiss from Floyd. The more and more you try to stroke his cock, the more it rises from his slit that you push your fingers around to coax more out. Long, fat and hot, your heart beats quickly as you feel the ache become my intense and your world it tilted feeling Floyd onto, the flared tip pushing in–

Your squealing, screaming his name as you bounce rapidly against the thick slick mer-eel cock like it was meant to stretch your tight cunt. It felt fucking amazing, the way it dragging against your walls, the flared tip hitting places you didn't realized needed to be fucked until now. Stuck in Floyd's arm, your boyfriend much bigger in his merform, you bury your face in his cool skin. The heat of your cheeks hot as you keep following Floyd's dick in you.

His scales rub a bit over your inner thighs, as he wraps lower body into you, coiling using his body to push that long member more into you, touching the spot that made your walls become needy. Letting out loud moans, you keep kissing and gripping onto Floyd, begging him for more. Floyd grunts, eyes rolling back as you squeeze him, his lower body goes faster and faster as his hand gropes your ass.

He grabs your jaw and makes you face him, taking in the way your cheeks warm his hand, your dazed teary eyes and panting mouth, his hips go faster as his tail thumps the ground.

“Fuck Shrimpy’s so tight,” Floyd groans burying his face into your hair, breathing hotly, as your walls milk him," ahaha don't worry about being loud scream it as much as you want."

[venus-giirl]

"Run, butterfly"

Gyutaro Shabana x fem reader.

Fandom: Demon Slayer. Word Count: +1k. Rating: dark romance, enemies, persecution, bloody kisses, obscene words. N/A: Okay. It's been a long time and by that I mean I haven't written anything on this social network for over a year. I'm doing well. I've been fine. I just wasn't finding myself with the perfect inspiration to create scenarios for the characters I love so much. And this lets me down about myself. But now, after finding my inspiration again I'm back and I'm writing new scenarios for the dear readers who read and support me. I want to remind that English is not my native language, but I use the translator for the texts I write. So I apologize for any mistakes in the translation or if you find any "her" instead of "him". I try not to make this mistake and I try to reread the whole text carefully. Without further words, here I bring you a fanfic of Gyutaro as a tribute for being the last character I wrote and the one who has had more support. Thank you very much to all of you for that. I hope to come back with much better writings and with more variety of characters. Questions are open :) Kisses, enjoy it

BEAST

You should not have gone out on the mission alone, at night. Going on your own when you were a pillar might have been easy, power coursed through your veins, and fire burned in your determination. But you were still too much of a novice to ever reach the position of pillar. In fact, this goal was so fuzzy in your life that you didn't mind being a simple demon hunter.

But damn it, even low-ranking hunters knew the number one rule of a demon hunting mission; don't go out fucking alone and without telling at least someone in the squad. The steam from your breaths trickled past your lips in little white, ephemeral clouds. Your legs were cramped, you'd been running for over twenty minutes. And with good reason. The same carmine-colored eyes had been haunting you the entire run. A great laugh with a ring of madness escaped from your captor and you couldn't help but feel a pang of some fear along with a sensation settling in your belly. Perhaps it was the fact that if you failed to escape you might be devoured.

"Run, little butterfly. I'll catch you." The thirst for blood and madness built up in every word the demon screamed at you. In an attempt to throw it off, you twisted to the right side of the road. Several trees prevented you from running in a straight line and a feeling of emptiness settled in your stomach when, without realizing the situation, your body fell forward. A pang settled in your hands as they rested on the ground to break your fall. Startled, you quickly sat up and tried to crawl as best you could across the small bed of fallen leaves that lay beneath you. However, a breath coos against the back of your neck and your skin bristles as you hear his voice croon again;

"You are mine." Claws imprisoned your neck, spinning you around so that you were face to face and nose to nose, with the demon above you. His beaked white teeth gleamed in the distant moonlight that was hidden behind your powerful body. His muscles tensed in a delicious shiver at having captured your bunny. After a grunt of satisfaction, Gyutaro said again:

"It makes me so horny when you run away from me. The fucking rotten blood swirls in my fucking crotch when you do that. When I chase after you to hunt you down." A moan escaped your lips as the grip on your throat grew more powerful and prevented you from breathing.

"Gyu…" You managed to say in a sob. "You…you scared me." Your eyes gave off a gleam of terror that only managed to increase the demon's arousal.

"Mmhm… Did I scare you, butterfly?". His nose buried itself in the hollow of your neck to smell your sweet, soft scent of roses and cinnamon. He pulled away from you slightly and looked at you in an angry glare from under your neck. "Haven't the fucking pillars taught you not to go out alone in the woods? So useless are they that they let one of the best slayers wander alone. Some other demon might hunt you… and that would piss me off."

Then it opens its mouth and its powerful fangs dig into the soft juncture between your neck and shoulder. You groan in pain and your hands reflexively grab strands of his wavy hair. He hums and his body hovers closer to yours so that you can feel the hardness of his crotch between your thick thighs.

You had known Gyutaro for a couple of years. The answer to the question of how he hadn't killed you yet was still unexplained. Let's just say he was infatuated with you. Your scent was the first thing he mentioned that he liked and that he didn't want to get rid of you. You met the same way this whole initial event had happened; a chase. The first time he tasted your blood he let out a hoarse moan as if he was a starving animal and had tasted the best of morsels after decades without encountering anything like it.

"Ooh, God. It tastes even better when it's running scared through your veins. So hot". His eyes lowered to your lower lip, which you were biting as a slight blush grew on your cheeks in a shy reflex.

You had long denied to yourself that falling in love with a demon was out of the question. They had only one option in their mind; to kill. And you had always heard that they could not feel love. Love which blossomed in your chest with every passionate night you spent with him.

Thoughts of the past settled in your mind; the creaking of the bed as he rode you to orgasm, the sound of the sheets tearing under his sharp nails that never dug deeper than they should into your soft skin to hurt you, the sound of his heavy breaths on your neck and soft breaths of your moans that filled the lonely cabin you lived in. And all those obscene and beautiful words he whispered in your ear.

Intoxicating.

"You're thinking of everything I could do to you, aren't you?". Gyutaro noticed your small absence and noticed how you squeezed your thighs together to manage to retain the heat that emanated from your sweetness and that even he might be able to smell. His undoing. He continued, "You're thinking about how I could fuck you on these cold, dead leaves. About how I'm going to make your body arch beneath me and how your mouth is not going to moan, no, but scream my fucking name in search of your delicious orgasm." His weight became even more intense on your body and you moaned against his lips as he came on you with a murderous glint in the irises of his eyes. "And on how I'm going to end up filling your womb with my thick fucking demon load".

You didn't know at what point you had fallen in love with this demon, nor when the end of your story would be, but what was really clear to you was that you would take every opportunity offered by this sinful illicit love between a guardian and a demon.

[sailorgoon13]

Shōgun

Title: Bound by Duty, Drawn by Fate

Pairing: John Blackthorne x Fem!Reader

Genre: Comfort & Angst

Spoilers: This story contains spoilers for Shōgun (2024). Please proceed with caution if you haven’t watched the series yet!

Additional tags: slow burn romance, grief and healing, forbidden love, duty and desire, angsty confessions, grumpy x reserved dynamic, protective John Blackthorne, historical

About Fem!Reader: The reader is a skilled translator and a strong, capable woman raised in a samurai family. Her upbringing made her not only fluent in multiple languages but also a highly trained fighter. Beyond that, her personality, appearance, and other traits are open to your interpretation!

Author's Note: I was genuinely amazed to find so few (if any!) Shōgun fics out there, so I decided to write one myself! This story takes place after season one and explores a new connection between Blackthorne and a strong, beautiful translator (you!). Writing this was a labor of love, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed creating it.

If you’d like to see more, feel free to drop ideas or requests in my inbox. 💜

Word count: 3244

Can also read here

The house felt hollow, a shell of what it once was. The warmth of Mariko's voice and the steady presence of Fuji had vanished, leaving Blackthorne to sit alone amid the silence. He no longer found peace in the beauty of the garden or the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. Their absence weighed on him like an anchor, dragging him into memories he wasn't ready to confront. He poured himself a cup of sake, the bitter taste doing little to drown his grief. The faint rustle of approaching footsteps broke the stillness, followed by a measured knock at the shoji door. Blackthorne straightened, his hand instinctively brushing the hilt of his katana.

"Come in," he called, his voice rough with weariness.

The door slid open, revealing you—a figure framed by the evening light, radiating quiet strength and a calm beauty that struck him immediately.

You stepped into the room, bowing low, your hands folded neatly in front of you.

"Anjin-sama," spoken softly, your voice steady despite the weight of formality. "I apologize for the disruption. My name is Y/N. Lord Toranaga has commanded that I serve as your new translator."

He raised an eyebrow, his hand still rested on the hilt. Your English was perfect, each syllable precise.

Straightening your back, your gaze meeting his. "It is an honor, Anjin-sama. I have traveled far to fulfill this duty."

Blackthorne studied you for a moment, his hazel eyes shadowed by exhaustion. Your beauty was undeniable—your face calm yet striking, and posture confident—but he wasn't ready to trust so easily. Not after everything he'd lost.

"I don't need another translator," he grunted.

"Lord Toranaga believes you will find my skills useful," you added.

He snorted, turning away to pick up the sake flask. "Toranaga always knows what I need, doesn't he?"

The words were slurred with bitterness, a half-drunken edge to his tone. He poured himself another cup, the liquid sloshing slightly over the rim. He glanced at you, then sighed and reached for a second cup.

"Well," he said gruffly, "If you've come all this way, you might as well sit."

You parted your lips in mild surprise, but quickly masked it with a graceful bow of thanks. Lowering onto the mat across from him, your hands extended and took the cup of sake.

He leaned back, cradling his own cup in both hands. "Don't expect me to be friendly," he said, his voice low. "I've had enough of people coming and going." He stared into his drink, his expression unreadable. "But... you're here now. Might as well drink to that."

He downed the contents of his cup in a swift motion, the sake burning it's course down his throat. It was silent between the two of you, only the faint chirp of crickets from outside.

Lifting your cup and mirroring him, you take a polite sip. "I am here to serve, Anjin-sama," you said after a moment, your tone calm but resolute. "But I will not intrude where I am not wanted. I only ask for the chance to prove myself worthy of this position."

The words were simple yet measured, and it struck something in him. He didn't respond immediately, instead watching the flicker of the brazier's light reflected in your eyes. Finally, he let out a low sigh, setting his cup down.

"We'll see," he said quietly, more to himself than to you.

The next morning

The smell of pine mixed with the salty air as Blackthorne stepped outside the home, taking in the array of hues coloring the sky. His back was stiff from a restless night and the sake hadn't helped as much as he'd hoped.

As he adjusted his kimono and glanced toward the garden, he noticed you waiting for him near the edge of the path. Although, you were dressed differently now, the attire more suited to movement—a simple yet elegant hakama tied neatly at your waist. Your hair was secured out of your face, and on your back rested two swords—a katana and a wakizashi.

You bowed deeply when he approached, expression calm yet determined. "Good morning, Anjin-sama," you said. "Lord Toranaga has instructed me to accompany you today. He believes it is time you learned to wield your swords properly."

"I know enough to survive."

Your lips curl faintly, finding amusement in his dry comment. "Surviving is one thing. Mastery is another."

He raised an eyebrow, his tone filled with skepticism. "And you're going to teach me?"

"I was raised in a samurai family," you replied, unshaken by his tone. "My father believed strength and discipline were virtues for all, not just men. I trained alongside my brothers and cousins and earned the respect of many. If Lord Toranaga trusts me to guide you, then perhaps you should, too."

He frowned, running a hand through his hair. "You sound just like Mariko," he muttered, though there was no venom in his voice—only a trace of grief.

Your expression softened at the mention of Mariko, but didn't press. Instead, you gestured toward the path leading away from the house. "Come. There's a clearing nearby, away from prying eyes. A good place to begin."

Reluctantly, Blackthorne followed, the weight of his katana feeling heavier than usual. Two guards trailed behind at a distance, but you led the way with a quiet confidence that seemed to part the tension around him.

When you reached the clearing, it was as promised—secluded and tranquil, the canopy of trees overhead shielding them from the sun. You turned to face him, your movements fluid as you unsheathed the katana in one smooth motion. The blade caught the morning light, gleaming with precision.

"Draw your sword, Anjin-sama," you instructed, your tone even but firm.

Blackthorne hesitated, then did as instructed. The katana felt foreign in his hands, despite the months he'd spent carrying it.

You stepped closer, eyes scanning his stance. "Your grip is too tight," you said, reaching out to adjust his hands. Your touch was firm but not invasive. "A sword is not a hammer. It requires balance, precision, and intention."

He frowned, shifting his weight as you stepped back. "And how do you propose to teach me that?"

Smiling faintly and lifting the katana. "By showing you what it feels like to fail."

Before he could react, you lunged, your strike was swift but controlled. Blackthorne barely managed to block, his blade clashing against yours with a sharp metallic ring. He stumbled back, his heart racing.

"Again," you said calmly, lowering the sword into a ready position.

Over the next hour, you pushed him relentlessly, each strike and parry teaching him more about his weaknesses than he cared to admit. You was fast, precise, and utterly unyielding—a fighter who had clearly earned the reputation.

When you finally paused, you both were breathing heavily, Blackthorne looked at you with a newfound respect. "You're not just a translator," he said, his voice rough.

"No," you replied, sheathing the sword. "I'm not."

Lowering your swords, and breathing heavy in the quiet clearing, Blackthorne wiped the sweat from his brow, glancing at you.

You moved to the edge of the clearing, sinking gracefully onto a flat rock. Without a word, you reached for the small flask tied to the sash and took a measured sip before offering it to him.

Blackthorne hesitated, studying carefully. You were an enigma—both fiercely skilled and frustratingly reserved. He accepted the flask, allowing the refreshing liquid to soothe his dried mouth.

"You're unlike anyone I've met," he stated, breaking the silence.

You didn't look at him as you responded, "You've traveled far, Anjin-sama. Surely you've met many kinds of people."

He frowned at your deflection, lowering the flask. "That's not what I meant. You're... different. Lord Toranaga could have sent anyone, but he sent you. Why?"

You were unsure of how to respond, so you remained silent, staring off into the distance.

He let out a short laugh, though there was no humor in it. "He sent me someone who's good at keeping secrets, that's for sure."

Your lips pressed into a thin line, though so still didn't respond. Standing to your feet, you took your place in the center of the clearing once again.

"Rest time is over," you said firmly. "Pick up your sword."

His jaw tightened, but he pushed himself to his feet, grabbing the wooden practice sword. You were skilled at avoiding questions—at keeping him at arm's length—but he wasn't about to back down.

This time, the practice resumed with a fiercer intensity. Your movements were fluid, the strikes swift and calculated. Blackthorne's frustration fueled him, and though your skill still outmatched his, he began to adapt. He watched the footwork, your shoulders, the way your weight shifted just before striking.

When you lunged again, he sidestepped at the last moment, spinning behind you. Barely having time to recover before he countered, the wooden blade stopping just at you neck.

Both of you froze.

Your eyes widened slightly, meeting his. His face was close—almost too close— his breaths mingling in the charged air between you. The intensity of the moment made the world fall silent. The heat of exertion and something deeper simmered in the space shared.

Blackthorne's voice was low, almost a whisper. "Not so untouchable now, are you?"

Your pulse quickened, breaths were short and shallow as each of you stood momentarily frozen. Composing your demeanor, you took a measured step back.

"We're done for today," you stated as you bowed to him.

Blackthorne blinked, caught off guard. "What? Why?"

You turned away, adjusting the sash with deliberate precision. "You've made progress," you said, your voice carefully neutral. "There is nothing more to teach for today."

He watched you, his chest still heaving from the exertion. "That's not the real reason, is it?"

You continued to walk without looking back. He stood there, sword clenched at his side. The tension in the clearing was suffocating, and your absence left him with an ache he didn't understand. The walls you had built around yourself were towering and unyielding; though for the briefest moment, he thought he saw a crack within their foundation.

And it left him wanting more.

The days that followed blurred into a rhythm. Each morning, you met Blackthorne in the clearing. Every practice was intense, filled with clashing blades, sharp commands, and an unspoken tension that neither dared to name. You pushed him harder than anyone else ever had, and he rose to the challenge, gritting his teeth through each strike.

But it wasn't just the training that lingered in his mind. It was the moments between—the way your focus never wavered, the way you moved like the wind, both graceful and untouchable. And when you smiled, fleeting as it was, it stirred something in him he thought he'd buried alongside Mariko.

On the fifth day, the practice ended earlier than usual. Blackthorne, drenched in sweat and clutching his ribs from a particularly brutal strike, leaned against the trunk of a tree.

Glancing at him, a flicker of amusement crossed your features. "You wouldn't survive long in a fight if I didn't push you."

He chuckled, low and bitter. "You believe Toranaga's preparing me for survival?"

You paused only for a moment before returning to the blade. "I believe he sees something in you that you don't see in yourself."

Blackthorne frowned, watching closely. "And what do you see?"

You didn't look up, your expression carefully guarded. "A man carrying too many ghosts," she said softly. "And fighting to prove he's still alive."

The words struck him harder than any of the blows. He was speechless, as you stripped him bare with just a single sentence.

"You're not wrong," he admitted quietly, his voice rough.

You finally lifted your gaze to meet his. "Loss has a way of shaping us," you stated softly. "But it doesn't have to define us."

A moment of silence filled the air. There was so much he wanted to ask you— about your family, your past, the shadows in your eyes— but something held him back from doing so.

He took a few steps forward, closing the distance. Towering over you, he reached out and offered his hand. Hesitating for the briefest moment before taking it, your fingers warm and steady against his.

That night, he couldn't sleep. Sitting in his dimly lit home, his thoughts kept drifting back to you and the secrets he so desperately wanted to uncover.

Just then, a faint knock from the door caught his attention. He stood, confused. It was late—too late for visitors. But when he opened the door to find you standing there, his worry faded.

"I am sorry to disturb you," you said quietly with a small bow.

"No disturbance at all," he replied, stepping out of the way to let you inside.

"I wanted to apologize," you said after a moment.

He blinked puzzled. "For what?"

"For earlier," you replied, gaze dropping to the floor. "I shouldn't have said what I did about your ghosts."

Blackthorne crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. "You were right, though," he said. "And maybe I needed to hear it."

You looked up at him, eyes scanning his face in search of any doubt. "But.. It wasn't my place."

"Maybe not," he admitted. "But it's been a long time since someone's looked past the surface."

The air between grew heavy again, the weight of unspoken emotions pressing down. He took a step closer, his voice dropping. "Why did you really come here, Y/N?"

For once, your composure was slipping and he began to see the vulnerability you kept so carefully guarded.

"I don't know," you whispered.

He lifted his hand to your face, pushing a strand of hair from your face and tucked it securely behind your ear. You didn't flinch or move, your eyes were locked onto his. Each of you stood in place, the tension was thick but neither could make that final step.

Finally, you exhaled shakily and stepped back. "Goodnight, Anjin-sama."

As you turned toward the door, his hand shot out before he could stop himself. His fingers wrapped around your wrist—not tight, but enough to make you pause. Glancing back to him, your eyes were filled with uncertainty.

"Don't go," he whispered.

You breath caught in your throat. "Anjin—"

His grip loosened as he stepped closer, closing the gap between you. The soft flickering light of the lanterns made his vulnerability clear; something raw and unguarded.

"I didn't want this," his voice soft, yet filled with emotion.

"I've lost too much. Mariko.. Fuji.." His voice faltered, jaw tightening as he forced the words out. "Every time I care for someone, they're taken from me. And I swore I wouldn't let it happen again."

You stayed silent, your eyes locked on to his as his openly admitted he fears. A mix of emotions encased you, your chest rising and falling in measured breaths.

He continued, his tone softening, "There's something about you, Y/N. Something I can't ignore, no matter how hard I try."

Your heart pounded painfully in your chest listening to his confession. You wanted to respond, to try and ease the ache you could feel in him, but the words were lost in your throat.

"Ever since you appeared, suddenly, I feel..." He paused, searching for the right words. "Alive. Like there's still something worth holding onto."

Your lips trembled, your own walls threatening to crumble. You were only here with duty and purpose, but being so close to him and feeling the weight of this raw honesty, you caught your mask slipping.

"I can't help it. You make it impossible to keep my distance," he admitted as his fingers tightened just slight around yours.

Your free hand lifted, hovering near his face. "Anjin-sama..." you whispered, barely audible.

"John," he corrected gently.

"John," you repeated. The name felt differently on your tongue but it was a feeling you were unable to dismiss

Each of your desires and fears mingled together in the tight space. Your faces almost too close, but it was comforting.

"I don't know what this is," you finally said, voice trembling. "But this is dangerous. For both of us."

He nodded slowly, his expression conflicted. "I know. But I'm not sure I care anymore."

Your breath hitched at the admission. "You should."

"Maybe," he shrugged, his eyes searching yours. "But for once, my own death doesn’t scare me. Yours, on the other hand? That’s my deepest fear."

The air between you both felt charged, emotions swirling like a storm neither of you could control. His hand, still holding yours, trembled slightly. You saw the vulnerability etched into his expression, a crack in the iron walls he’d built around himself.

"Please," he said, his voice almost breaking. "Don’t leave me."

Your heart ached at the quiet desperation in his tone. For all his strength, for all his resilience, John Blackthorne was a man who had lost so much, and the fear of losing again was written plainly across his face.

"Stay," he murmured. "Just.. stay with me tonight."

Your lips parted, uncertainty warring with the pull you felt toward him. Duty told you to remain guarded, to keep a professional distance, but your heart had other plans.

Slowly, you nodded. "I’ll stay."

The sharpness in his expression softened at your agreement. His presence had an affect over you that you hadn’t expected.

The moments that followed passed in a strange, tender silence. Together, you moved toward the low sleeping area of the house, the flickering fire casting warm, golden light across the room.

John settled onto the futon, leaving a space beside him. He glanced at you, hesitant, as if afraid you’d change your mind. But you didn’t. Lowering to the floor beside him, you laid your head across his chest, listening to the rapid heartbeat beneath.

Moving closer to yu, his arm slid around your shoulder carefully, as if you were a fragile thing waiting to shatter. The warmth of his body pressed against yours brought a sense of peace he hadn’t known in quite some time.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"For what?" you asked softly.

"For being here," he said. "For reminding me what it feels like to not be completely alone."

You swallowed hard, his words striking a chord deep within you. You wanted to ease his pain, to let him know he wasn’t the only one who had felt lost or alone, and how his presence had stirred something in you equally.

But all words were lost in the quiet intimacy. Reaching for his hand and intertwining your fingers with his was a small, but significant gesture. A silent promise that he wouldn’t have to face the emptiness alone.

His grip tightened slightly and you could feel the tension in his body to fade. For the first time in what felt like forever, John Blackthorne felt at peace. Although you knew this could bring trouble and danger ahead, just for tonight you allowed yourselves to simply exist. Finding peace within each other.

The fire burned low, its light casting soft shadows across the walls, as sleep eventually claimed you both. His arm remained securely around you, as if holding onto the one thing that made him feel whole again.

[ryuzakemo128]

Life After Death

Requested? No

Content Warning: Possible mentions of death, illness, suicide, murder and among other things. If you are triggered by the mentioned topics or any that remain unlisted I urge you that you do no read this content for the sake of your mental health and wellbeing.

Pairing: Bjorn Ironside x Female Reader

Summary: Your relationship is dying, about to die and you know the only way to get better was to end the relationship. Before you could end the relationship, you find out that he was unfaithful the entire time you were together. Leaving you heartbroken and carrying his unborn child inside of you. As well as your sons.

Author's Note: This is to help those who may be suffering through a heartbreaking break-up or a divorce. This is my love letter to you and I hope you find yourself forgiving yourself for whatever might have caused it to happen.

You found out a week ago and now you couldn't even bring yourself to even look at him. "You are lucky we never got married." You say to him. "You are lucky our children are too young to understand any of this and once I leave, you are never seeing the one that is yet to be born."

You didn't want to hear more of his pathetic excuses, as you packed the carriage getting ready to move to a farm near the village. It was the only place you could afford on such short notice. The children would have to go to the village school and you'd have to find work. The thought of leaving everything you'd built together was almost unbearable, you knew you couldn't stay. He'd never change. He'd always be a selfish, careless man who put his own pleasures above everything else.

Luckily, you were only three months pregnant and you were able to hide your condition from him until now. It was a small mercy. As you left the house, your heart felt like it was being ripped out of your chest. You clutched the reins of the carriage, taking deep breaths to steady your nerves. You knew that you had made the right decision, it still hurt and it still stung. He made his bed and now you intend to force him to stay inside of it.

Before you and your young children could leave that afternoon, you heard a voice from further away, the carriage was packed with your luggage and all your children were aware of. They were going to their grandmother's for a while. They were excited, unaware of the real reason why they were leaving, or that they were leaving their father behind. They were waiting inside of the carriage, their small whispers excited by the fact they were going to be able to see ducks, chickens, and other animals that their grandmother kept.

You heard him mutter something. You ignored him. You trusted him, you loved him and you thought you had a good life together. You had no idea that he was so unhappy. It was too late now. There was nothing you could do about it. You couldn't go back in time and change the past. All you could do now was focus on the future and make sure your children grow up in a happy, healthy environment.

Once you were on the road to the farm, you stepped into the carriage and into another life for you. For your children and the one that would be born soon. It wasn't the best option, but it was the only option that seemed to fit with what you need.

Your mother would be happy with the arrangement. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than what you had before. The farm was small, but it was self-sufficient. You could grow your own food, milk the cows, tend to the chickens, and make a living off the land. It was honest work, and it was all that you could ask for. Until you could possibly heal and move on, this would have to do.

Your mother, Freyja, "I am sorry things ended this way my dear," she said to you as you walked into the cabin, the scent of freshly baked bread filling the air. "But I'm glad you're here with me now. We'll make the best of it." She put her arm around you, her strength surprisingly comforting. "Now, let's get you settled in and we'll talk about how you'll help around the farm. Then we can organize where you and your children can sleep. How does that sound?"

You nodded, trying to muster up a smile. You knew your mother meant well, but the thought of living here, so far away from Bjorn, was almost unbearable. You had to remind yourself that it was for the best. For your children's sake, you had to protect them from their father's selfish ways. Your children ran around the field, your mother's dogs keeping watch over them, their laughter filling the air. It was a peaceful scene, one that you hoped would become routine for you all.

Your father passed when you were young, you didn't know much about him other than he was faithful to your mother to a fault. You were one out of five children they had together, you were raised by her and her alone after your father died. You wonder how she managed to do so on her own for so long after his death.

You asked your mother, "How did you manage to grieve and still care for us?"

She looked at you with a small smile and said, "It wasn't easy, my dear. There were days when I thought I couldn't go on. But I had to, for you and your siblings. Your father wasn't the best, but he certainly wasn't the worst and I thank my lucky stars that I met him when I did. Even if it was for a little while. The world was peaceful, and I had you all to take care of. The work on the farm kept me busy, and in time, it became a part of me. It's all I've ever known. You are not to blame for what he decided to do."

To her you would always be her little girl, her little angel who couldn't do wrong and she would always be there for you, no matter what. Your siblings had grown up and started their own lives, but you and your mother were still very close. You would help her around the farm, tend to the animals, and grow the crops. It was hard work, but you enjoyed being outdoors and being close to nature. Life on the farm was simple, yet fulfilling. She was there for you, just like she was there for her siblings when they needed her.

You would heal. You would learn to forgive and move forward. You were determined to find someone that will love all of you.

Prompt List/ Masterlist: Link

Dividers: Link

Previous/ other masterlists: Masterlist 01 / Masterlist 02

[frost-queen]

I'll comfort you (Fem!Reader x Susan Pevensie)

Requested by: @fairy-geek-ackerman Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex--awesome--22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @markive-m

The morning light snuck into the room. Beams of light illuminating the room. Enough brightness to disturb your sleeping eyes. Humming softly, you tossed and turned a bit. Feeling a sudden loss at something. Patting your hand around on the matrass to find her. Groaning soft, you hated having a king size bed. You rather had a smaller bed so you wouldn’t lose her. You kept patting your hand around till it got lifted up. – “I’m right here.” – Susan replied lowering your hand on her head for you to feel her. Smiling with your eyes still closed, you rolled over to the side.

Letting your other hand join Susan’s body, pulling her closer to you. Susan helped you a bit, moving to you. Your arms went around her, pulling her as tight as you could against your chest. Exhaling relieved to have her in your arms again. Susan’s arms were around you as well. Susan let her chin rest on top of your head. Snuggling underneath the sheets. Susan had a smile on her lips. – “I do have to get up.” – she muttered out, rubbing your back. – “Five more minutes.” – you replied listening to her heartbeat. Susan giggled loud, giving you a playful slap against your back.

“I have duties to attend.” – she explained. – “Your duty is with me, your majesty.” – you told her, rubbing your forehead against her chest. All snuggled up against her. Susan laughed once more. – “I’m afraid that excuse won’t count.” – she said hearing you groan annoyed. Susan shoved you a bit back to have a glimpse of your face. Your pouty lips making her laugh. – “I’ll tell the High-king, you were indisposed. Emergency?” – you told her. Susan cupped your cheeks, slipping her leg between yours.

“How I wish you could, but this is important.” – she let out, giving you a kiss afterwards. Susan let go of you, slipping out of bed. You groaned loud, rolling on your back to stare at the ceiling with your arms wide open. – “Oh don’t be such a baby Y/n.” – Susan said grabbing a pillow, throwing it at you afterwards. The impact made you close your arms, legs pulled up. Moving the pillow aside, you rolled onto your stomach.

Watching her get dressed. – “Tell me what is on the agenda oh Queen Susan the gentle.” – you called out, receiving a glare from her. Chuckling a bit, you pulled a pillow underneath you for support. – “Well there is the morning report. The gathering with the archers. The kings council…” – she listed pacing around to count on her fingers.

Keeping her focus on getting it all right in the right order. You puffed loud as it caught her attention. – “And when does the queen have time for her loving subjects?” – you asked her. Susan’s brow quirked up. – “and with loving subject, you mean yourself?” – she teased.

You nodded jumping up to your feet on the bed. Susan chuckled softly finishing preparing herself. You jumped out of bed, coming over to her. – “I mean you must pay attention to your subjects.” – you told her, placing your hands on her shoulders as she sat in front of the vanity. Susan looked up at you through the mirror.

“You are no mere subject Y/n.” – she told you, turning around. Taking your hand in hers, she left a soft kiss on them. – “You are my long becoming friend and partner now.” – she reminded you. – “Without you I don’t know if I would’ve been so brave. Not with the white witch, not with Midas…”

With tears in your eyes, you wrapped your arms around her. – “Liar, you are the bravest person I know. You are only saying to please me.” – you cried out, hugging her tight. – “I am not.” – Susan replied with a smile, patting you on the back to give her some breathing area. Sniffling loud, you pulled away. Seeing the tears in your eyes, she looking amusingly with sympathy at you.

Letting a finger brush against your cheek to make you snap out of it. – “Perhaps you should get dressed too.” – Susan said pointing at your nightgown. You looked down at yourself, snorting loud. You ran to the closet, pulling out your cloths as Susan finished up. Hand in hand, the two of you roamed the halls of Cair Paravel. Subjects bowing their heads at the sight of their queen.

The doors got opened to the throne room. Susan’s siblings already present. You walked Susan up to her throne next to Peter’s. Susan gave you kiss, saying her goodbyes. She then went to sit on her throne. – “Y/n.” – Peter greeted you with a nod. – “High-King Peter.” – you replied with a curtsy. You then curtsied before Susan, Edmund and Lucy as well.

Susan gave you a sympathetic smile with a little wave gesture before you made your way down the steps. Leaving the throne room. As the doors closed on you, you saw the bison approach the kings and queens for the morning report. Sighing loud, you didn’t like being away from Susan. It was like you couldn’t think without her or figure out what to do. Stepping away, you went outside knowing what her second topic of on the agenda was.

Sitting on a rocky wall, kicking your feet back and forth. Waiting patiently for Susan to pass by. You knew she had to pass here to get to the archery area. The sun just warm enough on your skin. Puffing loud, you hoped it wouldn’t take much longer. Missing her already. It was something you couldn’t help.

Ever since being separated from your family because of the war, you developed this need for reassurance that anyone was always close by. That anyone being Susan. Meeting her first at the professor’s house. Following along to Narnia. Susan went from strangers to friends to lovers. It took a while since it wasn’t accustomed for two girls to be in love.

Back at home it might have been a problem, but in Narnia it never is. Free to love whoever you like. Sudden footsteps made you lift your chest up. Smiling hard at the sight of Susan. There was a second of surprise on her face, before it settled to a smug stare. – “Have you been waiting for me Y/n?” – she asked as you jumped off the stone wall.

“Yes. A Queen needs an escort to her next agenda point right?” – you told her, locking your arm with hers. – “Alright escort me.” – Susan replied. You led her down, further away from the castle. Not far from you were knights practicing their swords skills. You arrived at the tent, opening the flap to her. – “There arrived safely.” – you said. Susan curtsied at you as a thank you. Letting her hand rest against your cheek, she stole another kiss from you. – “Will you wait for me?” – she asked. – “As long as I need.” – you told her. Susan disappeared into the tent as you waited outside. Kicking at some rocks to pass the time.

The tent flaps opened once more as Susan and the archers walked out. She was still talking, leading them to the practise court. It intrigued you, so you snuck closer to them. Keeping your distance. The archers stood with their backs at you, listening carefully at their commander. Susan stood by the practice targets. You far behind the wooden fences.

Lifting your body a bit up, you admired her from afar. Susan’s gaze fell on you mid-sentence, making her pause briefly.  Needing a bit of attention to pick up on her speech. You came leaning on the fence, blowing on a flower. Susan suddenly laughed, the archers looking confused at her. Widening her eyes, she cleared her throat excusing her little outburst. Trying not to pay much attention to you, she finished her speech.

The archers nodded as she parted ways with them. – “You made me laugh.” – was the first she said. – “I didn’t do anything.” – you told her confused. – “I know.” – she answered teasingly, taking your hand once more. Escorting her to the kings council. Knowing you couldn’t be present or anywhere near it, you said your goodbye’s and returned to your quarters.

Waiting eagerly and yearningly for Susan to return. Laying mindlessly on the bed. Staring out onto the sea. Cleaning up a bit. Anything to make time go faster. The door opened making you lift your head up. Susan stumbled exhausted into the room. Gasping loud, you got up, running up to her. – “My dearest Susan, look at you.” – you said giving her a hand for support.

You led her to the bed, letting her sit down. Susan let herself fall back with an exhausting sigh. – “I am drained.” – she let out, letting an arm fall over her face. You came sitting beside her, looking briefly up to the ceiling. – “Than you must need healing.” – you told her. Susan intrigued, moved her arm up with a smirk. Both of you laughed crawling further onto the bed. Snuggling against each other.

Facing each other to embrace the other one as purely as possible. – “Please tell me no more attendances?” – you asked her. Susan shook her head as her chest rubbed against your forehead. – “No more, just you and me.” – she told you. Lifting your head up, you smiled at her. – “My favourite moment of the day.” – telling her with the most lovable gaze. Susan looked down on you, smiling before her lips crashed onto yours. Kissing you deeply with all the love she had for you. Finally able to relax after a long and exhausting day.

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Read more of my fics on my Masterlists!

[mystictimemachinedream]

Irrevocably Yours

a/n: I always wanted to make a yandere x yandere fic. I feel like it didn't come off as dark as it could have been lmao.

Cw: Yandere x Yandere(which means usual talks about killing, love potions, confinement, etc), Yandere!Levi, Yandere!MC(but you're trying to do better), Double Penetration, Rough Sex, Levi having two dicks, some dub-con(there's protests at first but MC actually wants him), Fem!MC, kinda ooc.

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It was becoming too much—how you felt, the way your emotions churned inside you like a storm you couldn’t control. You were trying so hard not to give in to your usual behavior, to be normal, to keep it together. But the obsessive thoughts, the relentless impulse to take, to control, to own, were beginning to creep up, growing stronger with each passing day.

You’d managed to keep that side of yourself under wraps—relatively speaking—by focusing on anything and everything else. You buried yourself in distractions, anything to keep your mind off the darker urges. That was why you avoided relationships, why you pushed away any romantic feelings.

But that wasn’t enough anymore, because you were in love. Completely and utterly in love. The target of your affection was Leviathan, the shy, awkward, but endearing otaku. You hadn’t meant for it to happen; you’d kept your walls tall and unyielding, only offering detached friendship to the demon, just like you did with his brothers. But somehow, that detached friendship had morphed into an actual friendship.

You reasoned with yourself that it was okay to have a friend, as long as it didn’t become more. Friendship was harmless, right? You could handle that.

Wrong.

You quickly went from being just another normie to becoming his Henry, and with that came a shift you hadn’t anticipated. He started dragging you into his room more often, refusing to let you leave with those big, sad eyes and that lovely blush on his face. He’d ask you to stay just a bit longer, his voice tinged with a plea you found impossible to resist. Maybe your mistake was relenting so often, convincing yourself that you were doing it for the sake of your friendship, feeding into the denial that you weren’t crossing a line.

It was during one of those many nights spent gaming together that the truth hit you—like a bucket of ice-cold water. You were infatuated with him. The realization came when you found yourself wondering how you could keep him isolated, how you could ensure that no one else could be around him but you. The thought startled you, made you question everything. You were trying to be good, to do better. You couldn’t possibly be infatuated. That wasn’t you, not anymore. So you decided you needed to distance yourself from him, just a bit, so you could get over whatever it was you were feeling. It should have been easy, right?

Wrong again.

You didn’t anticipate Leviathan’s persistence. You thought of him as too shy, too easily flustered to chase after anyone, least of all you. But he never gave up. He whined in your ear, his voice desperate and needy, tugging on your clothes like a child afraid of being left alone. He even went as far as staying in your room with you, refusing to leave your side. It was so out of character, so unlike the Leviathan you thought you knew, that it rendered you speechless every single time. (And maybe, just maybe, another mistake you made was not paying closer attention to the hidden obsession lurking in his eyes, the way they darkened with something deeper, something more dangerous.)

Seeing such persistence warmed your heart, though. It showed you that he was willing to fight for you, to keep you close no matter what. Infatuation quickly turned into love—so completely in love. But just because you were in love didn’t necessarily mean it had to be obsessive or controlling, right? It could be a pure love, right?

Completely and utterly wrong. (And you wondered, in those rare moments of clarity, was anything you decided ever the right choice?)

The thoughts about being the only one around him consumed you. The maddening jealousy you felt when you heard him talk to his friends online, the burning urge to destroy all of his Ruri-chan merchandise—because how dare he love anything else but you?!—the overwhelming need to check all his electronics to make sure there was no one else… it all started to eat away at you.

All you could think of was him: Leviathan, Leviathan, Leviathan.

But still, you tried. You tried your best to fight it, because you were trying to do better. To be good. You wanted to love him in a pure, wholesome way. You didn’t want your love to be so obsessive, so twisted. But it was getting harder and harder to suppress the urges. (But were you really even trying hard enough, or were you just kidding yourself?)

It took all your willpower not to give in, but even with that, there were small things you did without his knowledge—like taking articles of his clothing, savoring the way they smelled of him. You took harmless peeks here and there at his computer and even his phone (and it wasn’t like he made it hard to figure out his passwords when he put it in right in front of you). Occasionally, you’d discourage him from going outside, convincing him it was safer, better to stay in. But it was all harmless, at least that’s what you wanted to believe, because at least you hadn’t snuck in a love potion to make him yours. (Not yet, at least.)

Still, you knew deep down that you couldn’t continue like this. The thought of hurting Leviathan twisted your heart—but you would, without hesitation, if he ever so much as looked at someone else. HE WAS YOURS. The intensity of your love for him made it clear that you needed to try again to put some distance between you, even if it meant spending time with one of his brothers instead. (It was almost laughable how desperate they were for your attention.)

That decision is what led you to your current predicament. It was your fault, yes, but your intentions were pure—at least, that’s what you told yourself. (Or was it that you were just too afraid to surrender completely?)

“I can’t,” you repeated firmly, holding your ground as you rejected Leviathan’s invitation to hang out. “I have plans with Beel.”

“P-Plans?” he echoed, his voice thick with disbelief, as though the word itself was foreign to him. His tone softened into a desperate plea. “Come on, it’ll be fun. Beel will understand if you cancel.”

The way he looked at you—so sweet, so hopeful—almost broke your resolve. But you knew you had to stay strong. “I already said I can’t. I’ll hang out with you afterwards.”

With one last, fleeting glance in his direction, you turned and walked away. If you had only looked back, you would have seen the dark, ominous scowl that had settled on his face.

When you returned from your outing with Beelzebub, who was sweet but unbearably boring, you found yourself debating whether to go see Leviathan. But you decided against it, reminding yourself of the need to maintain your distance, no matter how much it hurt. You clung to that conviction even as you ignored the constant stream of message notifications chiming from your D.D.D while you got ready for bed.

And maybe—just maybe—if you hadn’t been so completely lost in sleep, you would have noticed Leviathan standing silently at the foot of your bed, his demon form fully revealed, with slitted, orange-glowing eyes fixed intently on your figure.

This pattern continued for an entire week. You spent time with one brother after another, each day rejecting Leviathan’s invitations with an ache in your heart. But then, something strange started happening. Random pieces of your clothing—mostly your panties—began to disappear. Objects like your notebooks, chapstick, hair ties, and even pillows vanished without a trace. By that point, you knew it wasn’t just your imagination.

It made you want to scream. Someone actually had the audacity to take your things—and how dare they covet you when you belonged to Levi! The thought burned in your mind, making it nearly impossible to focus as Satan tried to engage you in conversation at the cat café. The soft meows and gentle purring of the cats around you did nothing to soothe the growing anger bubbling inside. Every time you saw a playful swish of a tail or felt a soft nuzzle, your thoughts drifted back to the house, to the annoyance you were going to have to deal with. You knew you’d have to investigate more thoroughly the moment you returned.

Once the two of you finally arrived back at the house, you were on a mission. Barely muttering a goodbye to Satan, you made a beeline for your room, your heart pounding with anticipation. The hallways blurred as you stormed through them, your mind solely focused on getting answers, to check and see if anything else went missing. Reaching your door, you flung it open with a force that made the hinges creak. But the sight that greeted you stopped you in your tracks.

Leviathan was sitting on your bed, his posture casual yet somehow possessive, as if he owned not just the bed but the entire space around him. His presence filled the room, and for a moment, you faltered, the anger you had felt earlier mixing with surprise and something else you couldn’t quite name (was it excitement?). You closed the door behind you, the click of the latch sounding louder than it should have in the stillness.

“Levi?” you questioned, your voice wavering slightly. The intensity of his gaze when he finally looked up at you made your breath catch. His usually soft and shy demeanor was replaced with something far more focused, almost predatory.

“Did you have fun with Satan?” he asked bluntly, his voice low and steady. The stillness of his figure, the way he didn’t move a muscle, made you instantly cautious. It was like he was waiting for something—for a slip, a crack in your composure.

“I did,” you lied easily, though the words tasted bitter on your tongue. The truth was, you had hated every second of your time with Satan, and it wasn’t just because of him. You loathed going out with any of Leviathan’s brothers.

Leviathan tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as he observed you. It felt like he could see right through your lie, peeling back layers to uncover the truth you were trying to hide. The intensity of his scrutiny almost made you shiver. But then, as quickly as the tension had arisen, it dissipated. Leviathan looked away, his fingers beginning to fidget with his D.D.D. The shift in his demeanor was almost surreal.

“W-would you like to come to my room? We haven’t s-spent time together,” he asked, his voice softer now, almost hesitant. When he looked at you again, his eyes were no longer sharp and probing but soft and vulnerable.

You hesitated, weighing your options. It should be fine to go with him this one time. You told yourself you’d make it quick—just a few minutes in his room, and then you’d leave. The sudden foreboding feeling you had should had deterred you yet you chose to ignore it (or maybe you just didn’t want to see the signs right in front of you).

“Sure.” A word that sealed your fate.

As you walked with him through the dimly lit hallway, the anxiety grew stronger, tightening its grip on your chest with every step. Leviathan was close enough that you could feel the occasional brush of his arm against yours, and each touch sent a jolt through your body, heightening your unease. The closer you got to his room, the heavier the air felt, as if the walls themselves were closing in on you. You wondered if you would be able to bolt if things spiraled out of control, your mind already calculating the distance to the door and the speed you’d need to escape.

When you both stood in front of his door, the tension in the air was palpable, a suffocating presence that made your skin crawl. It was almost ominous when he opened the door and gestured for you to step inside, the sound of the door creaking open like a warning you were too stubborn to heed. As you walked in, your eyes darted around the room, searching for anything out of place, but everything looked the same. His usual setup, the familiar clutter of manga and figurines… So why were you feeling like th—oh.

Your breath caught in your throat as your gaze landed on his desk. Those were your items scattered across it, some new things that you hadn’t even realized were missing yet. And there, in his tub, nestled among his many sheets and body pillows, were your clothes, panties and pillows, arranged almost reverently.

You stood there, paralyzed by shock, even as you heard the door close behind you, the sound of the lock sliding into place echoing loudly in your ears.

“Levi, that’s… my stuff, my clothes,” you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper, but you knew he heard you. He was standing so close behind you now that you could feel the heat of his body radiating against your back, making you shiver involuntarily.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asked, his voice low and eerily calm, completely ignoring your statement as if it were irrelevant. His breath tickled your ear, sending another shiver down your spine.

This wasn’t what you expected. Leviathan wasn’t supposed to be like you, caught in the same struggle, battling the same obsession. The thought made your heart race. That wasn’t good—you didn’t want to be pulled further into obsession, into depravity. You wanted to be normal, to be better, to be good. You chanted those words to yourself like a prayer, a desperate attempt to cling to sanity, even as you finally turned to look at him.

He was looking at you with an intensity that made your breath hitch, his eyes locked onto yours as if you were the only thing that existed in his world.

But you couldn’t give in. You were determined to have a wholesome, pure romance with him. You had to resist, had to keep things from spiraling out of control.

“Don’t make me ask you again,” he growled, his voice dropping an octave as he grabbed your chin with a firm hand, his hold almost bruising in its intensity (and his aggressiveness shouldn’t have been so arousing to you).

“Things were getting too… intense. I just wanted a bit of space so things could mellow down between us,” you answered hesitantly, your words stumbling over themselves as you tried to make him understand. But even as you spoke, you could feel the flimsiness of your excuse, the way it barely held together under the weight of the truth.

“Intense?” He grinned, a smile that was more a baring of teeth than anything else, with an almost maniacal edge to it. His eyes gleamed with a knowing light, as if he could see right through you, as if he knew all the things you’d done behind his back, all the secrets you thought you’d kept hidden.

But you stubbornly kept your mouth shut. You could do this—you could talk him down, make him see reason. You would keep your distance and regain control (liar, liar, liar. All you did was lie).

“I know you want me. At first, I couldn’t believe it because why would you want me? But then, you started taking some of my clothes.” He looked deeply pleased as he let go of your chin, bending down to nuzzle his face into the crook of your neck. His breath was warm against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as he spoke. “I could even feel your envy, your jealousy when I’d game with my friends or when I gave too much attention to anything else that wasn’t you.”

You sucked in a breath as he slowly nipped at your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sent a jolt of sensation through your body, heat pooling in your core despite yourself.

“I thought things were going well,” he paused, his voice darkening as he continued, “but then you started spending time with my brothers. You were ignoring my messages and invitations to come to my room.” As those words left his lips, the nipping grew harsher until he bit down on your neck deep enough to leave a mark but not enough to draw blood. The sudden sharp pain made you yelp and squirm in his grasp, but his hold was unrelenting.

He snarled at your attempts to break free, the sound vibrating against your skin, and you froze again, your body betraying you as a wave of desire crashed over you. You wanted to give in so badly—you wanted him to be yours. You wanted to be his. This side of him was so unexpected but definitely not unwelcome.

“I need you to explain yourself. Now.” His grip tightened as he fisted his hand in your hair and yanked it back harshly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

You licked your lips, trying to steady your breathing. “Levi, this just isn’t… healthy. I’m trying to do better.”

He scoffed, as if your answer was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard. “We want to be with each other. Does anything else matter?”

His words were tempting, far too tempting. But you wanted your love to last, to be built on a solid foundation (but really, you were just a fucking coward).

“It does matter. How about you let me go back to my room so we can think about this?” you suggested, your voice trembling slightly. The grip on your hair tightened, pulling at your scalp, and you winced in pain (but you wanted him to be even more aggressive, to show you how much he loved you).

“You, better than anyone, should know that you aren’t going anywhere. If I have to tie you up, then I will.” He released your hair with a sudden force and pushed you down onto the floor. The impact was harsh, and you barely managed to catch yourself with your hands before your head could hit the hard surface. He stood over you, a blank expression on his face as he watched you struggle to steady yourself.

“L-Levi, just calm down. We can talk about this,” you pleaded softly, your voice trembling as he dropped to his knees, caging you in his arms against the cold, hard floor. You could feel the heat radiating off his body, mingling with the coolness of the floor beneath you. If he kept pushing, you knew you would give in.

“For someone who wants me just as badly, you’re protesting too much.” His voice was low, dangerously calm, as he leaned his forehead against yours. His breath ghosted over your lips. “But don’t worry, I’ll fuck the fight out of you. And if that doesn’t work, well, I don’t mind using other methods if it means keeping you with me.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help the way your body reacted. Heat pooled between your thighs, your panties already soaked through. You almost moaned at the sheer threat in his voice, and you wondered just how much rougher he’d get if you kept resisting. Would he lose control entirely? (You hoped he would.)

“Levi, please. We can’t,” you whined weakly, your resolve wavering as his lips brushed against yours. You somehow managed to turn your head away, but the gesture felt futile. The air around you shifted as he pulled back, his energy darkening. When you glanced up at him, his demon form was already out—scales glistening under the dim light, coral horns out, his tail swaying predatorily, and his glowing orange eyes fixated on you with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

“Fine, I guess we’ll do this the hard way,” he growled in your ear. The words sent your mind spiraling, and before you could fully process what was happening, everything became a blur of heat and sensation.

You gasped, eyes widening as his hand slid under your skirt with purpose, fingers expertly finding your soaked core. He moaned—a deep, guttural sound that sent a thrill through your body—when he felt how wet you were even through the thin fabric of your panties. It was the only confirmation he needed, the last bit of proof that you truly wanted him, needed him, despite your feeble protests.

With a heated urgency, his hands tore away your panties and skirt, ripping through the delicate fabric like it was nothing. Your shirt and bra followed, shredded under his impatient touch, leaving your skin exposed to the cool air and his hungry gaze. He didn’t waste a second, pulling you into a smoldering kiss that was all heat and desperation. Just like that, your resolve shattered, crumbling beneath the weight of your desire. You returned the kiss with equal fervor because you wanted—no, you needed—him so badly it ached.

He smirked against your lips when he felt you go pliant in his arms, the tension leaving your body as you surrendered to him. His mouth broke away from yours, only to descend upon your chest, his hot breath trailing over your skin as he left a path of bruising bite marks in his wake. Each nip sent a jolt of pleasure-pain through you, drawing breathless moans from your lips.

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging him closer as he zeroed in on one of your nipples, his mouth hot and eager. He sucked on the small nub, his tongue swirling around it before his teeth grazed the sensitive flesh, sending sparks of pleasure straight to your core. Meanwhile, his thick fingers pumped into your wet, warm cunt—two at first, then three, and finally four, stretching you open with a pace that was fast and merciless. The sensation was overwhelming, the roughness almost too much to bear, but you craved it. You needed more.

He didn’t give you a moment to adjust, didn’t let you catch your breath as he fucked you with his fingers, driving them in deep with each thrust. His thumb found your swollen clit, rubbing tight, desperate circles that had you crying out, your body arching off the floor. The pleasure was intense, almost unbearable, but you loved it.

You hugged him closer, your whines and pleas for more filling the room, mingling with the sounds of your slick arousal as his fingers moved in and out of you with relentless speed. He was going to make you cum already, and you hadn’t even gotten started. His mouth finally released your nipple, leaving it glistening with his saliva, and he pulled you into an almost desperate kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth as he curled his fingers just right inside you.

Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, crashing over you with a force that left you breathless. You cried out, the sound muffled by his mouth, and your cunt clenched around his fingers, gushing wetness all over his hand. He didn’t stop, didn’t slow down, riding you through your orgasm as if he wanted to wring every last drop of pleasure from you.

It was all so rough, so fast, but it felt so right, like this was exactly how it was meant to be. You could only watch with half-lidded eyes, your breath coming in short gasps, as he finally pulled his fingers out of your throbbing cunt. Your juices coated his hand and he brought his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with a look of pure satisfaction.

But he wasn’t done. Not even close.

He leaned back, his glowing eyes never leaving yours as he reached for his zipper. The sound of it being pulled down was almost deafening in the silence that followed. He didn’t bother fully undressing, only tugging his jeans down just enough to free his cock—no, cocks. He had two of them, thick and throbbing with need.

Your mouth watered at the sight of him, and your cunt clenched on nothing as you imagined the sensation of him fucking you open on those thick, pulsating cocks. The mere thought made you shiver. You spread your legs wider, a silent plea, an open invitation that had him settling between them eagerly.

“This messy cunt belongs to me,” Leviathan rasped, his voice low and gravelly, as he rubbed both of his cocks against the slick folds of your cunt. The friction sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making you gasp as he gathered the wetness on the heads of his cocks, teasing your entrance with slow, deliberate movements. “You belong to me. I need you to remember that because I will kill anyone you so much as look at for too long. I don’t even want you leaving my room at all.”

You mewled softly at his words, the sound escaping your lips involuntarily, and you knew in that moment that there was no going back. You couldn’t deny it anymore—couldn’t even pretend to care how twisted your love had become, how unhealthy it likely was. All that mattered was that he was finally yours, and you would do anything to keep him that way.

“Do you understand?” Leviathan’s tone was harsh as he gripped both of his cocks firmly, positioning them at your entrance. He pushed forward slowly, just the tips breaching your slick, swollen folds. The stretch was intense, borderline painful, but the pleasure that accompanied it was undeniable. A high-pitched moan tore from your throat as your eyes became teary at the sensation.

“Levi!” you whined, desperation lacing your voice as you attempted to roll your hips down, to pull more of him inside. But his tail coiled around your waist, holding you firmly in place.

“I asked you a question. Do you understand?” Leviathan remained still, his gaze dark with lust, waiting for your answer. When you didn’t respond quickly enough, his hand moved to your breast, fingers tugging one of your nipples harshly. The sting made you gasp, a mixture of pain and pleasure that sent a jolt straight to your core. “Or are you so cock-drunk already that you can’t even answer me?”

“I—I understand,” you panted, finally finding your voice. You reached up, your hand tangling in his hair as you yanked him down, bringing his face closer to yours. “But that also means you belong to me. I will kill you and myself if you ever try to leave me.”

“Fuck,” he cursed, and you felt his cocks twitch at your words. His lips crashed into yours in a sloppy, heated kiss, all teeth and tongue, as if he was trying to devour you whole. The kiss broke only when he pulled back to latch onto the side of your neck that was still unmarked, his teeth grazing your skin before sinking in, marking you with more bruises that would be visible for days. And then, with a snap of his hips, he thrust both cocks fully inside you.

The stretch was overwhelming, the sensation of being so utterly full making you sob with pleasure. He didn’t give you time to adjust, his pace punishing as he pounded into you, each thrust harder and faster than the last. It was as if he were releasing all the pent-up anger from the week you had avoided him, taking out his frustration on your body. But you welcomed it, craved it even. You’d always loved the bite of pain with your pleasure, always been a bit of a masochist for it.

Moans mixed with cries of pleasure, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the room. It was loud, lewd, and unmistakable, and you knew anyone within earshot would know exactly what was happening. But the thought only fueled your desire for him, making you arch against him, desperate to take him even deeper.

You felt another orgasm building, coiling tight in your core as one of Leviathan’s cocks hit your sweet spot with each thrust, while the blunt tip of the other bumped against your cervix, making you see stars. The sensations were overwhelming, your mind going hazy as you babbled incoherently, slurred pleas and moans spilling from your lips.

Leviathan’s eyes were glued to your face, watching every expression, every reaction. The sight of you—completely fucked out, cock-drunk and lost in pleasure—sent a surge of smug satisfaction through him. He moaned loudly, the sound almost desperate as he lifted your legs, pressing your knees against your chest, and somehow, impossibly, drove even deeper inside you.

You wailed as another orgasm tore through you, your cunt clenching and throbbing around him, the pleasure almost too intense to bear. He whined at the sensation, his own pace faltering as he neared his release. With a final, forceful thrust, he buried himself deep inside you and came, his hot seed flooding your cunt. The feeling of him filling you, marking you from the inside out, made you moan weakly.

He panted heavily as he finally stopped cumming, his breath ragged as he slowly pulled out, even as you whimpered from the overstimulation. Cum leaked from your thoroughly used cunt, trailing down to your ass as he admired the state he’d left you in.

For a moment, he just looked at you—as if memorizing every mark, every bruise, every inch of you that he’d claimed. Then, with surprising gentleness and a now adorable flush on his face, he picked you up, holding you close to his chest. He carried you to his tub and he climbed in, laying down with you on top of him, his arms wrapped securely around you as he pulled a soft sheet over both of you.

You snuggled closer against his chest, your eyes fluttering shut as exhaustion washed over you. The romance between you two was never going to be pure, never going to be simple. It was twisted, dark, and even dangerous—but it was real. You belonged to each other, and that was enough.

You would do anything to keep him because Leviathan was finally yours. And really, this was the best outcome you could have hoped for. Now, you didn’t have to go through with your darker plans of somehow knocking him out and trapping him somewhere. You only hoped he took you seriously about never leaving, because you truly would kill him if he tried. He belonged to you, after all.

[joannasteez]

conejita (2)

pairing: damian priest x reader warning: smut. nsfw! use of pet name and descriptions of pet play. "conejita" means "bunny" in spanish authors note: feeling a little scandalized, no one look at me! this man is keeping me from the tanks of blood update btw word count: 1200 tags: @333creolelady @harmshake @kill-the-artiste

he'd told you about this, about breathing. about pleasure being a reward for patience. the pit of your belly sore from that terrible delay of satisfaction. shallow breathes forcing your core to tighten..."fuck"...a bright break of a whimper..."fuck"...

and you feel it there, the slight tug against that gentle length of fur, because...

..."a bunny without her tail is a sore sight, only paints half the picture"... 

thats what he'd said. purring and deep along the shell of your ear. tongue slipping up thereafter, as if to solidify the sweetness of it. so you'd done it. honeyed your skin in the scent that pleased him and sunk delicately into the domineer of his desire. pretty sage lace adorning your body as you settled into his lap. deft, manicured fingers — sage french tips to match—taking the clean end of the plug to stroke it along your lips. peaks of kitten licks before suckling the tip. his palm easing along that supple take of skin that rounds out along your bottom. metal rings cool to the touch. 

he'd taken to your jaw with his other hand. swept his thumb along your chin to pull your lips in..."you're just the prettiest thing aren't you"...thunder of a voice. rippling skin and taking hold strong at your bones. you'd shivered along his lap. fingers weak and your temperaments weaker. belly clenching about nothing. needful and anxious. and of course he'd led. guided the sticky wet end of the tail to trail and venture till it'd found it's way at that puckered little hole. a slow press in of a maneuver, till it'd been seated perfectly. wispy little songs from your throat and a needy rut of your pussy along his thigh. his mouth smiling before he took you in for a kiss. 

and you couldn't help it then, to make it sloppy. to suckle his tongue messily and grind into the tough fabric of his jeans. the friction of it causing that delicious build in your belly. but that was a while ago. the charming fit of your lace bra, now, undone and stretched else where. desperation corralling beautifully well in the blood. your fingers digging into the sofa. eyes tightened to a close. 

you're a mess to say the least. panties soaked through and your clit tender. pulsing still. belly knotted up and waiting for bliss. 

..."ruttin' that messy pussy all on me, soaking through my jeans"...groaning into your mouth before his tongue sweeps in for another kiss. soft, full lips pushing in to mesh and pull. his legs spread wide as you ride him there. an arm thrown along the top of the couch leisurely as the other kneads and caresses your hips. your nipples hard and sitting just right along his chest. the thin, linen fabric rushing in a friction that catches firmly. 

"...so gorgeous..."

"...God you smell amazing..." 

"...fucking perfect..."

drawling songs of praise about your ear. his spiced cologne thick in your nose and pulling full in your lungs. lip bitten between your teeth and a twisting grind in your hips. but it isn't enough. the ache in your belly sitting at the edge of relief, but never fulfilled enough to break away freely. a whine in your throat playing desperate. fingers rushing into his skin. forming over trembly and sharp. that patience you'd clung to in attempt to please him, drawing thin and unusable. but this is what he wants. always. delays in gratification for a better thing. thinning your resolve till your wits warm over and melt into nothing. amendable.

and he sets out cooly, undoing the hard silver buckle of his belt. thumbing the button out of the loop before the zipper purrs. revealing his briefs and the hard ache he'd done well to hide and ignore. caught up in your wispy noise and soft skin. and he won't discard your panties. won't do away with the soaked fabric, even if the absence makes for less of an inconvenience. the messiness of them speaking to just how ruined you've become. shallow breathes and tired moans. his hands gathering you up into him, lips parted over yours to steal what air remains, a gentle peck of a kiss as he guides, un-rushed, thick and pressing in. 

that slow, simple first taste too delicious to wait..."yes"...a delirious hiss through your teeth..."fuck yes"...feeling that pressure unfold as he makes to slip in hot and stiff. the sweet noise of it lewd and binding, your legs pulling up lazily to bend, feet planting flat against the couch. something broken and airy drawing up from your throat, your cheek running up against his till your nose knocks over. an urgent bite to your blood, the fullness good there as he shifts his weight to grind up shallow. 

but its unbearable still. not enough. your nails cradling his nape for stability, to feel the heat in his skin. a throb in your spine. effort fully making to sink over hungry, to take more, to feel that delicate splitting open that numbs the ache. his hand clutching over again, curling in till the cool metal of his rings kiss in to impress, stopping your delirium to exact some control. his words tumbling on your lips..."take it easy"...commanding soft. groaning and prying at your hips till he's nailing dull to cup under your ass. steering the pace to a lax little thing...."don't over work yourself"...he hums. lips trailing into the fold of your neck. the bass of his words settling in at your pulse. hips hitching again to feel that throb of a sensation as your clit rubs into him tight...."m'not going anywhere"... another deft upstroke that lets him feed in deeper. trailing along the wet clutch of your pussy. filling in full. 

his tongue peaks, a curl of a lick at your neck. suckling his lips there to taste the saltiness. his palm soothing over till he's tugging short at your tail again. caressing the fur about his fingers. a chorus of sensations burst everywhere. your mouth parting to breathe, to whine..."feels so good"...a tender bounce setting in your hips. a lazy take to the hilt till you're winding up to the tip of him before he's filling in thick again. 

..."s'all you needed right?"...mouth at your cheek again. lingering kisses that flow to the corner of your lips. his words breathing in as you manage the gentleness of this pace. arrested in the ease of him..."a little care, attention"...the back end of a finger rolling at the under curve of your breast, sweeping up to cup tenderly, thumb rolling to sooth in against your nipple...."you can get so restless sometimes, greedy"... his thumb hooking into your mouth to slip at your tongue. gathering wet there, stroking in as you suckle, before returning to press in at your nipple... "we can't have that right?"... his breath at your jaw still. teeth baring to prick, pulling you from your daze of pleasure for an answer..."right?"

"...y-yes...yes..."

he hums. suckles your bottom lip in for a kiss before shifting along the couch again for more comfortability. the maneuver leaving him to rut roughly into you. a stiff drag along the tight drool of your walls..."show me then conejita"... his arms slipping away to relax and spread leisure against the top of the couch..."wanna see you work yourself real nice"... a deep drawl that crawls up to flutter your hot body. quivering and rutting still as you fight the burn in your legs. sweat breaking damp at your forehead. the soft bunny tail bouncing to follow the tender rhythm...."make it pretty for me"...

[hanasnx]

ᯓ★ “ I WANNA FUCK WITH THE LIGHTS ON ” — clark kent.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: this movie isn’t out yet but i can’t wait that long to take advantage of my superman kick and fuck this man. unfortunately i don’t know much about his characterization other than the trailer content. WARNINGS: fem reader ノ established relationship ノ explicit sexual content ノ size difference ノ dick riding ノ objectification ノ p in v ノ praise ノ clark has huge dick syndrome.

“Just… take it slow.” CLARK KENT encourages, but it’s said more so for himself than you. A large, flattened palm emphasizes his instruction, gesturing for you to relax without grabbing you to take over your actions. You stop, his eyes flickering to meet yours questioningly, until he takes a shot in the dark. “Please.” It’s delightfully endearing, and it loosens you up a little.

“It’s not that, Clark, I’m just—you’re just so… you know,” Big. You try to hint at it without blurting it out. Hovering over his lap too long, a tremor builds in your thighs, and you bite down onto your lip as you let it pass through you in a shudder.

His expression adjusts as the realization dawns on him, “Ah,” he exclaims thoughtfully, and he tests the waters, bringing his hands to your body to rest in comfortable places. Your waist seems appropriate, and your fingers fiddle with the muscle in his shoulders as you keep chewing your lip. “Do you want me to take over?” the question is punctuated with a shift of his hips, arranging himself in a better position to begin, but even the marginal movement has you whining with need. It alerts him, tensing up instantly as he freezes while your pretty face twists in pleasured agony. You’re still wrapped around his reddened tip, and it’s a burning kind of stretch that makes you wish you could just shove him in all the way—at the cost of ripping you in half.

Through your heavy lids and thick eyelashes, you manage to meet his gaze with darkened pupils that don’t want to cooperate. You hum a pitiful “uh-huh” while you nod your head, signaling to him that he’s right. His thumbs on your torso stroke at your skin comfortingly, big hands clamped around you as he raises you. The lip of his head catches on the rim of your pussy, and you suck in a breath as an emptiness replaces what used to be filled.

“We’re gonna take it nice and easy,” Clark talks you through it, but even his exhale hitches when cold air hits his slit. Carefully, he lowers you back on, feeding his dick back into your silken walls before taking it away again—all to introduce your hole to his size little by little. The method chips away at your tightness, and you try to follow his movements with yours even if you’re weak in the knees. “Wanna look at me, duchess? Let me see your eyes?” He tilts his head, his curls falling over his forehead as he chases your gaze. You do your best to peel your eyes open one-by-one, granting him his wish as you pant through your open mouth taking his cock one agonizing inch at a time. The sight of you barely holding on when he’s not even halfway in, stretches a smile onto his face, and if you were more coherent, you’d say it’s one of pride as well as endearment.

One hand cautiously releases your side, while the other takes your weight entirely, bobbing you up and down as if you were no heavier than a fleshlight. His other slides between you two to seek out your pretty bud, resting his thick fingers on your thigh while his thumb comes to stroke at that clit. The new sensation slicks you up as quickly as it occurred, and you gasp at how elevated it all feels from a simple action like that. “That’s what you were missing. Right, baby? It’s hard to loosen up without it. You’re so tight…” You know he didn’t say it like it’s a compliment, but it makes your insides jump anyway. Your muscle contracts and suddenly he can fit a lot more in. “Does that feel good?” he asks, his thumb leisurely circling your bud as your pussy drools around him.

Desperately, you nod your head with a couple of “mm-hmm’s!” that lead him to speed up—introducing you to more of his length as he picks up the pace on petting your clit. Your hands abandon gripping his shoulders for stability and instead overlay his. Yours are dwarfed by him, but he takes your guidance, absorbing how you’re putting pressure on his knuckles and replicating it against your poor pearl, getting puffy from the stimulation and the lack of getting railed. It all lights a fire under your ass, and your body moves for you, bouncing in place to try and force more of his cock into you. You can’t overpower the Superman, but he does let you take it all down to the hilt—his strength making a sex toy out of you.

[erenspussy420]

Potions Mishap (Neige)

MDNI, 18+ONLY

FEM READER

NSFW SMUT

Word count: 3.1k

Summary: A mishap during potions class had Neige in a rather heated mood. Time to help your poor suffering boyfriend..

It was going to be a long night.

Breathing slowly to calm himself, the effects of the potion sending a wave of heat over him making everything feel stifling. Neige groans, panting soft needy gasps as he grinds into the covers of his bed.

Prince Rielle's act of showing off his prowess of antidotes had backfired greatly. His anti-love potion didn't reverse the effects, but rather enhanced all senses of arousement than reducing anything. It was just a miscalculation! Rielle didn’t mean too despite Jasim’s reprimands, but Neige had taken the brunt of the potions smoke, inhaling it.

 Niege lets out a grunt as he presses his hips into the pillow, letting himself rut into it. It felt good, it's not enough…not enough to ease the desire, that makes him want to bury into something hot and snug. 

To drive him wild with pleasure.

It was so embarrassing! He was lucky the class cleared out before anyone saw him. He was more thankful his dear friends that had potions with him were taken away before they could see him in that state. Thank Merlin!

Professor Ambrose had urgently taken him through the hidden corridors and back to his room, with a dove sent to Night Raven College with a request. What the potion Rielle had made, could not be undone so easily as he feared, rather he needs to let it out….naturally.

Something that aroused him and made him tremble just a bit with shame. He hopes you don’t mind, it was something you both have done more together, past mutual touches and heated kisses. Your hands undoing his belt….he catches the bottom lip between his teeth, feeling a shudder. He had to keep himself from falling into the desires, his body uncomfortably hot in his clothes, he tossed his sweater off and continued to pitifully hump into the pillow.

Neige rolled over onto his side, pressing his nose into the soft fabric of his true love's sweater. The potion had made everything so much stronger- his clothes were dragging against him making his most sensitive parts of him bud, the air nipping at his heating skin, but it was his nose that became the poison to his body. His lover's sweater, left behind in one of their secret meetups, was his weakness, the tempting apple that fed into this maddening desire. He inhales deeply, feeling the ache below become more demanding for attention.

‘Just a touch! Stroke, oh my love your mouth how I need it!, ’Neige ruts into the pillow, gasping louder. The soft fabric drags across his red cheeks, as he breathes into it.

You, your natural scent, drives him to madness.

Neige mummers your name, the yearning in his voice so wanton and heavy with lust. The image of you, his love, his one true love, touching him, kissing his pale skin comes to mind and Neige caves to his desires. To hear your voice whine his name, oh what a wish come true! His hand grazed over his side, shameful in its journey to the throbbing member that became harder to ignore. He bites his lower lip, whimpering into your sweater, rocking into his palm, his cock hard and the beads of precum beginning to soak through. It slides easy, making Neige go mad with his stroke, pumping it thinking of you.

He hopes you arrive swiftly.

.

.

“Now down there straight ahead should be Mr. LeBlanche room,” Headmaster Ambrose pointed down a long corridor, with an urgent finger. He isn’t quite making eye contact with you, keeping his already shaky hands busy, fixing his drooping blue hat and the other shoving a small basket into your hands. You peek under the cloth, seeing peach colored bottles of potions marked clearly in cursive loops, seeing your puzzled look Ambrose coughs," The nurse has set this for you. Um, thank you for coming so swiftly to Mr. LeBlanche’s aide.”

Really weird to be thanked to come fuck your boyfriend, but you digress.

Ambrose clears his throat to get your attention", Please come find us when ... .you're both in condition too.”

“Yes sir,” You said with a two finger salute as you awkwardly turned away from RSA’s headmaster. As you leave, you hear a shimmery poof behind you. Oh thank God, you were hoping he left faster.

You jog quickly to his door, an isolated room in a tower where the most important of students were living. People like royalty– which you are never going to get over being in the same school with some—, rich families and of course celebrities. Neige told you about it before but you never got to see it, till now. His door is a heavy wooden carved door with two large ring handles. Feeling your heartbeat hard against your ribs, taking a deep breath preparing yourself. Brushing your hair in the reflection of the silver ring’s reflection, fixing it from the rush of Crowley pushing you through the mirrors. Smoothing down your own NRC uniform, and a quick breath check, you were ready. The ring is heavy on the wood, but you don’t hear anything, so you call out,”Neige? Neige it’s me! I’m here too, well…”

Your cheeks feel hot,”Neige!”

You wait but don’t hear his voice, but you did hear something. Pressing into the door, you strain your ear, and focus. It's soft, in loud heavy breaths, pressing on you can’t help it— you know this noise. You helped him make such noises before.

A low deep groan, loud enough even you can hear it from outside without strain.

“My love! My beautiful princess—,” Neige calls out your name desperately to enter.

As if it was a magic word, the doors creak and you’re engulfed in a cloud of glitter dust. A heavy thud is heard behind you, the smoke clears and your vision comes. 

And your voice dies in your throat.

‘Holy shit, holy fuck!’ Your eyes are stuck on the sight before you.

Neige who’s iconic sweater is missing, now replaced with one you had left before, the fabric being pushed into his nose as his other hand jerks his swollen veiny cock.

That girthy pink cock, looking so flushed between his pale fingers milking it—

Thick white stripes of cum are splattered on his stomach, his pants gone and his boxers shoved to his knees. His eyes half lidded, a slip of drool down his cheek as his hips chase his fist. You’re too stuck on tracing the way the thick drops of cum fall from his dick with each stroke of his hand, the bottom of his soft pink lips caught between his teeth as his hips….His hips stutter and sutter loud cry breaks free and—

"Oh fuck!" You both cry out as cum gushes out. You swallow, watching the white drops hit the sheets. The white fluid streamed down his length and over his balls. The wicker basket strains in your grip.

Neige gulps down air, his cock softening in his hand, his chest heaving. He turns to her his eyes teary. “My love!”

And watch that dick come back to life.

You didn’t even wait, you chugged that potion immediately

.

.

It tasted sweet, like guava. 

You sat behind him, your sweet boyfriend leaning against you whimpering as even the slightest brush of air made his cock twitch– the poor thing so flushed pink looking ready to burst. Shakily, you reached for the glistening cock, your pussy throbbing in arousal as you grazed it. Neige groans, thrusting immediately at the touch. Neige cries out your name, as you grope his cock, pumping it slowly with soft squeezes. Neige rests his hand on yours, guiding you to pump him faster as he pistons into your fist.

"Suck me!" He gasps, throwing his head back, eyes wide as the dirtiest wishes leave his mouth," please suck me off! I want your lips on my cock so badly! I’ve cum to the thought of your pretty mouth sucking me off!”

You keep pumping, squeezing your thighs for relief as a wetness pooled in your panties. Neige’s confession was making you so excited, you could feel yourself getting wet. Especially the way he groans, his hot cheek pressing into yours as he leaves sloppy kisses on your face.

“Tell me more.” You kiss him, swallowing his needy pants, as he clumsily kisses you.

And Neige obeys.

"I love it when you pull my hair, Merlin. The nights I spent thinking about you! Thinking of your cries of my name. It's dirty. It's dirty but I want you so badly ," he pants, cheeks so hot— beads of sweat drop. You kiss his neck, thumb tracing the slit of his cock’s head. Neige whimpers," Ahhh oh princess, mark me. Please mark me!"

You had to hide a large grin into his hair, with Neige’s career he wouldn't be able to have any love bites or hickies. While you could of course have yours painted with hickies, Niege would always trace them with a pout. But now….

You take full advantage, kissing and licking his neck, over his pulse and sucking at the pale flesh. His skin is flushed pink, as you leave a trail of bites, as Neige moans louder, whimpering his thanks.

As you fully marked his neck, Neige steadily worked his way to undressing you. Turning around to face you, he tosses your clothes aside next to his own discarded clothes. His hands caressing your skin, with a reverent touch. He left your panties on but not your bra. That he took great pleasure ripping off, as he kneaded your breasts, your buds rolled and tugged between the knuckles of his fingers. Moaning, you trail your nails down his back, making Neige whimper as he kisses your collarbone. 

 With each discard of any restraint, you grab his ass and squeeze it, grinding your hips over his bobbing cock, making Neige let out a loud, unashamed whine of your name. He can’t take it anymore!

Neige had you pinned down on his bed and spread open for him. One second you had your skirt the next it was gone. Your heart thumped so hard in your chest, loud drums, as Neige pressed his face into your core, stealing a gasp from you. He didn't notice. He was too busy rubbing his nose into your crotch, eyes shut as he kissed your clothed cunt making your cheeks heat up how tenderly he's treating you. His finger tug at the seam, tracing your lips. His cock was still hard even after so many times he came into your hand.

You smell wonderful.

With the speed of a man possessed, he ripped off your panties, and his greedy tongue split you open as you shut your legs around his head.”Neige!” you squeaked his name.

Neige groans, pulling away just enough to kiss your inner thigh as he makes his way down to you. You came to him, you came to save him from this heat, he should be more loving before he breaks you.

“My princess, forgive me!” Neige said between licks, you taste so divine on his tongue, he could eat you for days if he could,” I waited so long for just a taste of you, I was going mad without you!”

The urgency in his voice made tingles go down you back, you let out another whimper when Niege licked the long stripe from your core up to your clit flickering it with the tip of his tongue. His mouth so replaced it, sucking the sensitive bead. Your hands gripped his hair, as you arched into his mouth, words that were words, you don’t know them. All you knew was the tongue exploring your soaked pussy.

Neige groans as his hair is tugged, his hips grind against the mattress. 

 “Do that again,” Neige commanded, his voice more husky with the tone of authority that made you aroused. Neige looked up at you, the long lashes of his eyes painting him like an angel,” I’m not going to break, my princess, so be rough as you want.”’ 

His fingers dipped in your wet cunt, rubbing up your walls, as his thumb rubbed your clit. Your hands pulled his hair harder, as you mindlessly thrust your hips into his fingers. Neige watches his eyes focused on the way you arch, letting his fingers go deeper, the slackness of your mouth as a groan leaves.

Your juices coat his hand, and the throbbing of his cock is maddening. Don't you know what you do to him? Everything about you, he adores, from the way you breathe when you sleep to the way you twist your mouth at things, the little sway you do when no one is around. The tick in your eye from anger, the way you search for something Neige doesn't understand but he wants too.

Everything….everything…oh how he loves loves loves you so much that it hurts.

His fingers curl pressing into that spongy spot, that makes you gasp and rock— feeling his fingers soak he pulls them away with a string connecting them. So warm, so hot and it smells sweet to him.

His tongue peeks out tasting it, suckling his fingers clean.

Neige pulled away from you, leaving you gasping as your body twitched in the aftershocks of your orgasm. Even with the sinful image of you naked below, your cunt wet because of him, Neige still wasn’t finished. The idol rips off the rest of his clothes that overheated him, and pulls you up by your hips to pull you closer to him. This snapped you out of the high, you looked at him,”Neige, babe?”

“Not done yet,” he murmured, he was not sated just yet, he caressed the dip of your hip,” please please let me finish with you.”

A soft plea, his hands laced together with yours. It was far more sweeter, and chaste unlike what you two had just done.

“Then finish…finish...in me,” you tell him breathless, already trying to push his cock in, impatient you rubbed your wet fold against his head,” hurry and cum in me already!”

“As you wish, my princess,” his voice thick with lust, his eyes warm brown dazed. He breathes in slowly, a low groan leaves him shakily, as the head of his cock pushes into your cunt. You gasp, feeling the fullness in you, stretching your walls. It felt so good. So good oh God. 

Neige’s body shaking, his hand still laced with your’s as you two breathe squirming at the sensations of being squeezed and full. It’s so hard, Neige swallows heavily, its so hard to not immediately fuck you into the sheets. The way your walls wrap so tightly around his cock, wet and hot as he can’t help but whimper as his hips desperately try to push in. The potion might have made him a….Neige’s cheeks burn a dark red,...a bit of a whore as Allen would say. However, Neige will make sure you’re still comfortable, his fingers squeeze your’s. His thumb rubbing over your hand.

A hand rests on the smallness of his back, snapping him out of his thoughts, eyes wide he looks down at you as you begin pushing against him. “W-Well? Don’t get shy on me already,” You tell him grinning,” I’m all yours.”

Neige heart lurches,”Mine?”

“Yours.”

“Yours,” Neige repeated, as he began to move against you, sending a rush of heat over the both of you. You groan, reaching up to him so he could be closer to you, hooking your arms around his neck, you kiss his neck as his thrusts begin to pick up. You’re so wet, so hot and easy to slip into is all Neige can think about as his thrusts become more harsher, more faster as your cries begin to fill the room.

Neige was so enraptured by the pulsing of your pussy, drool slipping down his mouth as you sucked him in more and more. His body pushes into you, hitting deeper and deeper as fluids leak out between you, Neige doesn’t want to stop. If he did he would die without this. He needs it so badly, he needs you so badly, any gentleness that he had left him as his balls begin smacking against your soaked fold. Your sweet Neige pounding you into the bed, as you kiss his jaw, pulling his hair to make him groan.  Your body felt like it was on fire, edging to the end as the head of his veiny cock touched and pushed on the nerves that made you scream.

“NEIGE, OH FUCK—-YES!,” You cry, gripping onto his waist with your legs, pushing your feet under his ass, as Neige folded you in half going right at it like an animal,”Yes! Neige right there! RIGHT THERE!”

The force of the thrusts made his bed creak and the canopy frame shake.

 Neige doesn’t even respond, the ebony haired beauty lost in the sensations of getting his dick soaked in your wet gushing cunt, as your body jolts and squirm, loud ragged breaths coming from you as your cunt squeezes his cock. Neige keeps going chasing the heat building up in his core, feeling the hot fluids soak him makes him go faster, sloppier thrusting as he frantically chases it,” My love! Oh…Oh! Oh I love you so much!”

Feeling the snapping release of his peak, Neige lets out a loud shout of your name, as you feel a hot gush of cum shoot into you. It wasn’t even a small amount either from all the jacking off from earlier, with so much being released you can feel him being pushed out from it. Panting, you mumble trying to keep your head grounded as the afterglow crashes over you. Neige buries into you, his face in your neck as he kisses it weakly, he spoke his voice hoarse,”I-I ….thank you. Thank you my love.”

“Don’t thank me,” You tell him, kissing his sweaty hair,”I came as fast as I could.”

Neige giggles,”’Like a prince in a fairy tale.”

“Exactly,” you laugh, hugging him close. Sighing, you smile thinking finally, Neige has passed the potions effects, though you had to admit you kinda hoped it would last longer. Neige skin is still warm to the touch, and the cum is still stuffed in you, even if you were worried, the potion should be in effect. Shame, you still had more in there, but it’s not as if—-

Neige lets out a needy groan into you neck, a loud whimper as his hips begin to push into your aching cunt. Your eyes snap open in shock.

“Are you hard again?” You squeak.

“Yes,” he whines, he kisses you cheek,”my love…..I need you again.”

Breathing in, you reach for the basket on the dresser.

“Pass me the potion Neige.”

[reiyaus]

fem reader intended

husband nanami who quit working overtime because he hated seeing you stay up so late- dozing off on the dining table, a warm plate of food waiting for him at 11:37 on a tuesday night.

husband nanami who carries you to bed, making sure you were warm before focusing on getting unready himself. putting your health before his, like always.

husband nanami who make sures to eat the food you’ve prepared for him, appetite or not, because putting your cooking to waste would make him feel even more guilty (if possible).

husband nanami who likes waking up and catching you in the kitchen, dancing to the music while preparing his lunch. sometimes he even sees you taking small samples of his food before stopping yourself from eating the whole thing.

husband nanami who goes to work with his bento inside his bag, staring at it his whole shift and counting the hours until he gets to read what you’ve written him for the day.

husband nanami who stores all your letters inside the first drawer of his desk, rereading them as if they’re motivational quotes on a coffee cup whenever his coworkers and boss start testing his remaining bits of patience.

husband nanami who leaves the office building the moment his shift is over and heads straight to your favorite café, ordering every single one of your favorite pastries- not minding how the number keeps increasing with every beep.

husband nanami who surprises you, freshly out the shower, with a huge bag full of bread you’ve been craving the whole week.

husband nanami who helps you with your post-shower routine while ocassionally feeding you, laughing at how your eyes never left the bag the moment he came home.

husband nanami who makes sure you actually get to sleep before 10 pm, leaving no excuses as he carries you to the bed again, but this time you’re laughing and gripping onto his shoulders.

husband nanami who traps you in his hold, lulling you to sleep as he apologizes for all the times he made you stay up late- sleeping uncomfortably on the table.

husband nanami who gets to sleep another night with your face as the last thing he sees.

and husband nanami who wakes up another morning, with your skin being the first thing he feels.

[nereidprinc3ss]

bambi

in which spencer reid and fem!reader fuck like they missed each other (because they always do) and he teases her for her shaky legs

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom spencer, piv sex (riding, a first for nereidprinc3ss) /oral f receiving (in that order) mentions of him accidentally grabbing her hips too hard, slight somno SORT OF like he starts going down on her while she’s sleepy and then she kind of goes in and out but its all consensual, sorry haters i fucking love sleepy sex and I always will, teasing, lots of praise, fluffy, established relationship, he loves her badddd, aftercare, literally nothing bad happens no angst for once they just are having sex cause they are in love which is arguably the most superior kind of sex! a/n: I don’t think I’ve ever written smut that is so wham bam thank you ma’am like really we just get RIGHT into it!! also no gif no pics we r going old nereidprinc3ss on this one I hope you loveeee!!!

You roll over onto Spencer and kiss once, long and deep and sweet. He hums into it, too whipped to pretend like he’s got self control or respect, hands finding the soft skin of your bare waist and settling there. 

How it got to this point so quickly, no more than fifteen minutes after he walked through the door, you can’t say. Usually the two of you are a bit more domestic when he gets home from a case, but eight days is a long time to be apart, and the trail of clothing leading from the welcome mat to the foot of the bed attests to that. 

So does the lack of teasing, of begging—at least, a lack up until this point. Right now, there’s only him, patient and content to let you play at being in charge. You pull back and reach down to grab him gently, aligning him at your entrance with a trembling hand. This part, you’re not usually responsible for. 

He assures you with a hand to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles. “You got it. Slowly.”

You do as he says, brow furrowing in focus as you sink down an inch or two onto him. Spencer’s breathing grows erratic as you take more and more of him, and in a heroic display of overachieving, you take the rest of him at once with nothing but a squeak. He laughs breathily as his fingers dig into your hips. 

“Fuck—I said slow.”

You can’t think. The overwhelm of it all is too much as you crumple forward onto his chest. The subtle rocking you’re doing to try and alleviate some of the pressure in your core is apparently too much as he stops you by the hips, fingers pressing into those same tender spots.

Spencer’s breath is ragged. “Don’t… do not move.”

“Fuck,” you breathe into his shoulder, long and drawn out as despite his wishes you wriggle around, trying to get comfortable. “Oh my god.”

“My lovely girl, please… please don’t move,” Spencer gasps, a plead, and you try to stop for him, nuzzling even deeper against his neck. “I need a minute.”

“It’s too much,” you slur, dizzy as you try to adjust to the feeling. “Please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Maybe relief from the sensation that he can’t offer you. Maybe more. 

Spencer is undone by you—the way you writhe on top of him, the way your voice shakes, the way you’re so totally and completely overwhelmed and he can feel it and he loves it. 

“Baby,” he breathes, and he meant to say a lot more than that, but it’s the best he can manage when he is this overstimulated. “Baby,” he whispers again, wrapping his arms around you in an effort to ground you, to give you something else to focus on as you both get used to the feeling. 

It’s going well—for a moment, before your back is arching. 

“Spence, I need to move, I can’t—”

“Okay, okay.” He takes a deep breath, returning his hands to your waist and mentally preparing himself not to cum early. He’s desperate to give you want you want, to feel you like this. “Go ahead. Move, honey. Please.”

By the time you slowly lift your hips up and drop back down with a low cry, Spencer’s lost. His head falls back against the pillow and his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh, angel, I missed you.”

You do it again, motivated by his praise, and he can hear your little gasps and desperate gulps of air. 

“I missed you so much,” you whine and clench around him, pleasure so intense it’s a resounding ache in the far reaches of your body. “Oh, fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer shivers. He loves when you make it personal, when you say his name like that and it becomes clear this isn’t just about the physical.

“My girl. Just like that. Doing so well, baby, just like that.”

Each pass of your hips has you whining. Your lips skim over his neck, not cognizant enough to actually kiss—only to know that you want the contact. 

“Please can I go faster?”

Spencer almost doesn’t realize you’re speaking to him he’s so lost in pleasure. The idea of faster is as compelling as it is troublesome. Spencer doesn’t know if he can’t take faster, not when he has you like this, but he certainly wants to find out. 

“Yeah, lovely. Do whatever feels good.”

You readjust and begin to pick up the pace, stumbling over a few false starts as it’s clearly more sensation than you’d been prepared for. 

Spencer, on the other hand, has his eyes screwed shut tight, and is attempting to draw a two-dimensional Császár polyhedron on your back, but he loses his place with every twitch of your hips, so eventually he decides to trace imperfect Mandelbrots down your spine—anything to avoid thinking about how the pH of your body interacts with sweet vanilla perfume to create a scent so deeply intoxicating he’d leave his entire life behind just to trail after it, or how you fucking feel against him, on top of him, around him, how miraculous it is that you keep letting him touch you—

“Oh—” you whine quietly, a strangled sort of noise that has his heart skipping. Your hand tangles desperately in his hair as you rock your hips faster and faster and he lets out a tortured groan. “Spencer, oh my fucking god.”

“I know, baby,” he manages, endeared by the fact that you feel so good you have to share it with him. Even now you’re trying to explain it because you want him to be part of it—as if he doesn’t know exactly what you’re feeling already. “That feels good, huh?”

“Mm—f—eels—” you cut yourself off with a cry into the crook of his neck, and he holds the back of your head, vision greying as he stares unseeing at the ceiling because if he looks down this’ll be over too soon. 

“You’re so good,” he breathes, “you’re perfect.”He hears you gasp at the same time as your rhythm falters, and presses a kiss somewhere indiscriminately on your head. “Gonna cum?” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod desperately, rutting against him hopelessly as your thighs tremble from exertion. 

Even the smallest drop-off in friction has his head spinning like he stood up too quickly, so he gives himself enough leverage to start fucking you. You cry out and shift your weight like you’re going to try and evade the feeling—self-sabotage, you always do this—and he again has to hold your hips in an iron vice, just to force you to feel it. 

“You’re okay, I’m gonna get you there.”

“Fuck!” You very nearly yell, still trying to wriggle away up until the very last second like the tide going out before the tsunami comes. When you do cum, your demeanor instantly changes—you get heavy and clingy and whiny as you rock back and forth through your orgasm. 

“Good girl,” Spencer murmurs, being careful in the way he continues to fuck you until he reaches his peak as well, not long after. You shudder, and Spencer feels the way your entire body tenses the way it sometimes does after a particularly strong orgasm, and he fights his way out of the brain fog to rub your back with the skimming tips of his fingers. “Shh. You’re okay. Relax, baby.”

And you do, unwound by the dance of his hand and with a few shallow breaths that gradually deepen, until you’re once more slack on top of him. 

“You’re incredible,” he exhales, with his lips pressed to your hairline. 

So clearly overwhelmed, the only response you can muster is a soft squeak. Spencer laughs fondly, still mapping the soft curve of your back. He feels the way you’re still attempting to train your breathing and kisses your hair again. “What do you need, angel?”

“I’m s’posed to be taking care of you,” you slur. Spencer chuckles again and his brow knits. 

“According to who?”

“According to… I was on top…”

“Yeah. You did all the hard stuff. Your legs are shaking.”

You whine softly. “No they’re not.”

His hand slides down to your thigh, and he rubs the trembling muscles. 

“No? No Bambi legs for me this time?”

You squeeze them around his waist like you could shrink away from his touch. “Spence…”

“I’m teasing you, honey,” he murmurs, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “You’re cute.”

“Hm.”

“Look at me,” he murmurs, angling his head expectantly as you slowly raise yours. The look on your face is so sweet—eyes half lidded, lips swollen and much higher in color than usual. Your cheek is warm to the touch. His heart flutters like it did on your first date, and the first time he kissed you, and the first time you fell asleep on his shoulder. This view will never get old. “Wow. Look at you, beautiful girl. Can I have a kiss?”

And you grant him his wish, with a long, soft kiss that’s worth every second of that burning feeling in his lungs, every time. 

Eventually you huff out the remainder of your air against his well-kissed lips and your head flops to his chest. 

“I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep,” he murmurs, so warm from your kiss he feels nothing could be wrong in the world at this moment. 

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“’Cause you just got home ’nd I missed you and I wanna spend time with you.”

“We have three days to spend together. If you go to sleep now, we’ll actually get more time together tomorrow.”

“But it’s more about, like, how it feels—how much time it feels like we spend together right when you get home, and if I go to sleep now, it’s gonna feel like less time, and—basically you’re just not understanding my math.”

“What math?” He laughs, continuing to rub your legs all the way up to your hips, at which point you hiss and buck—a very visceral feeling when he’s still inside of you. “What? What hurts?”

“You tried to fucking tear my hip flexors from my body, is what hurts,” you grumble. 

“Tender?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m really sorry, angel. Tylenol?”

“Mm-mm. Can you kiss me better?” Sleep stains your voice. Spencer smiles to himself. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Lie down.”

Again you whine as you slip off of him, landing heavily on your back. He sits up, watches with so much affection the way you squeeze your thighs together and arch ever so slightly against the empty feeling. 

“Spencer?” You whisper as he cups the top of your knees. 

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

He pushes your legs apart gently so he can settle in between them and kisses you again. “I love you. So much.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

He presses a kiss to your head, down your neck, taking the scenic route to your hip bones, but you don’t seem to mind. 

The feeling of his lips gentle on the tender flesh has you humming softly, eyes fluttering shut as he showers you with gentle kisses. His traces every place his fingers had pressed earlier—feels the way you relax further underneath him. Nobody’s ever let him in this deeply before, but you trust him with everything you have; your body, your soul, in life or death, awake and in sleep. He’ll never take that for granted. He will never pass on an opportunity like this, to be the one who takes care of you, who puts you back together, as long as you’ll let him. 

Still dancing the line of consciousness, you part your legs, the slow drag of your bare thigh like a jumper cable to his heart. Fingertips trace desirous paths up your inner thigh and back down again. He recognizes this invitation for what it is, and he knows exactly how to give you what you want, but he asks first anyway. 

“Was that on purpose?”

“I d’know what you mean. I’m so sleepy,” you slur, and he believes the second half of your statement to be fact. 

Spencer pushes your thigh a little higher, and you’re completely pliable for him, completely gorgeous. As soon as he skims your thigh with a barely-there kiss, exactly the way you like, you’re lacing a hand in his hair. 

“Please, Spence…” you murmur, and he can’t argue with that. He especially can’t argue when you widen your legs just that slightest bit more, and your arousal is opalescent between your legs. 

He hums, trailing more kisses up until he’s setting the softest one yet against your clit. “Beautiful girl…”

The following gasp is so tiny he could’ve missed it if he wasn’t so attuned to your noises—and then he gets lost in you, making sure to keep his ministrations light as you already came twice recently and are sure to be sensitive. He doesn’t want to wake you from whatever twilight half-slumber trance you’re in, either, sensing that if he does you’ll fight all over again to stay up.

And admittedly, he adores being trusted to take care of you like this.

Your back arches as much as you’re capable of in this state, and he can’t help the way he just barely suctions onto you at that moment, coaxing a sighing moan so sweet and vulnerable and open it gives him chills. Fuck. He really wants to make you cum. But instead he practices patience, tracing you with the tip of his tongue, pressing gentle kisses everywhere you need them—he draws it out. For he doesn’t know how long. 

The first time you get close, your hips begin to roll, and you spout little ah’s, but he talks you back down again, laughing lightly at your angelic cooing, your little sounds of sleepy pleasure. Even now you’re so responsive, moving against his mouth as he slips a finger into your soaked entrance, fucks you for a moment, and then retreats. Maybe he’s being unfair, but you don’t seem to mind. 

In fact, you’re slipping in and out of sleep as he devours you for what feels like hours, one hand pressed lovingly to your stomach, stroking the soft skin there. Spencer’s never had this long to explore you with his mouth and he takes full advantage of every moment, but he keeps all his kisses and licks and touches gentle and reverent and so loving. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, or how many times he’s made you cum when he finally retreats—you half-wake just as he’s finishing cleaning you up. Soon he tosses the towel aside and presses feather-light kisses to each of your cheeks, tear-stained and warm with pleasure. You feel completely drained and completely loved. 

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” he murmurs, climbing into bed with you, at some point having gotten dressed. 

You manage an embarrassed little laugh. More tears crawl down your cheeks as you roll to your side. Spencer brushes them away and pulls you into him, slinging your thigh over his waist. He chuckles. 

“Shaky?”

“Stop,” you whine, embarrassed by his teasing, and hide your face against his chest. “That’s not my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. It’s sweet,” he insists as he rubs your back. And then, a moment later, “So—do you think we’ve spent enough time together for tonight?”

“No.”

He sighs good-naturedly. 

“You’re gonna wear me out, you know that?”

“’F you… can’t handle the heat… get outta the kitchen.”

When he next speaks you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Go to sleep, Bambi. Let’s see if you can walk in the morning.”

[ryuzakemo128]

Eddie Munson x Italian Classical Musician/ Artist Female Reader Headcanons

Content Warnings: Cursing/ swearing, implied sexual content, alcohol, and drug use, traumatic events, emotional distress, and violence.

Masterlist

Credit 4 Dividers: @cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Eddie finds your Italian accent incredibly charming and often asks you to repeat words or phrases just to hear it. Even during sex, you have the habit of using it in his ear,

You started learning the Cello first when you were 4 years old, because your grandfather was a world-renowned cellist, and you wanted to follow in his footsteps.

Your art style is heavily influenced by the Renaissance period, and you often use dark, moody colours that make your work eerie yet beautiful.

You have a secret stash of your favourite Italian wine and snacks, like butterscotch pudding, in your basement that you share with only a few close friends.

You paint, sculpt, sketch and create cosmic, body, surreal and contemporary horror. Most of the time it is either one of them or all of them at once, creating images so grotesque and mesmerising. It looked like it moved the longer someone stared at them. Detailed enough to capture and hold the attention of those who weren’t the intended target audience for her art.

Eddie had the habit of pulling you further into the centre of the bed if you got too far away. He liked having you as close as possible, often with an arm or a leg thrown over you. Sometimes you would roll over and spoon him from behind. Your arms up his black shirt. Eddie in turn would jolt awake because of your cold hands sometimes. He would then wrap his arms around you and pull you closer. Whispering, "You're so cold," with a sleepy smile.

You were determined in keeping your king-sized waterbed because it helped you fall asleep quicker than any mattress with springs ever could. Eddie found out about it when he got into bed first at your place one evening. He didn’t think much of it, assuming that you were much like everyone else, had the same type. The one with springs inside of it.

When he did find out, he said, "How the hell did you get a waterbed up here?" It had become their little secret.

“Down here. Not up here.” You reminded him your bedroom was in the basement in your house. Not in a typical bedroom like his was.

Eddie replied, "Well, I guess that explains the echo."

"Eddie, you complained about it the first time, remember?" you asked him, getting the spare pillow out from your cupboard upstairs.

Eddie's eyes widened as he took in the grandeur of your basement art studio. The walls were adorned with your hauntingly beautiful paintings, their vibrant colours clashing with the shadowy lighting. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awe mixed with a hint of trepidation as he gazed upon the sculptures that seemed to watch him with lifeless eyes. The cobwebs in the corner danced in the flickering candlelight, casting eerie shadows across the floor.

You were in the shower getting ready, as Eddie, still in his pyjamas, ventured downstairs into your basement art studio, curiosity getting the better of him. He heard the faint sound of classical Italian music playing from a radio in the corner, the melody weaving through the air like a ghostly serenade. The scent of paint and turpentine filled his nostrils, a stark contrast to the usual scent of his own room—stale pot and heavy metal. He took a tentative step closer to the waterbed, his eyes widening as he realised it was indeed a king-sized waterbed. The gentle sloshing of the water beneath the mattress made him chuckle to himself, wondering how you managed to keep this a secret from everyone else.

The curtains, which were three black lace curtains sewn together to cover the basement windows. Fairy lights strung along the top of the curtains, creating a soft glow around the room.

The walls were painted an ultraviolet purple that made the green in your art pop out. The concrete floor covered in faux fur rugs in deep shades of black.

The walls were also covered on your vivid horror creations done by either charcoal, water coloured pencils, or acrylics, all framing your monstrous yet oddly fascinating creations. Each piece told a story of its own, a silent scream echoing from the canvas that seemed to resonate with Eddie's own inner turmoil. He felt a strange kinship with your art, as if it understood the chaos in his mind better than he did himself.

The sculptures, made from clay, stone, and sometimes metal, stood sentinel around the room, each one a twisted representation of a creature from a nightmare. Despite the macabre scene, there was a serene quality to the space, a sanctuary where you poured your soul into your craft.

The emerald green velvet couch across from your bookshelf was his first stop, collapsing onto it with a sigh as he looked around the room. His eyes fell on the shelf of your favourite Italian wine bottles, the labels yellowed with age, and the smell of your secret stash of butterscotch pudding wafted through the air. It was a comforting scent, one that reminded him of your late-night art sessions and the sweet treats you'd share with him as he played guitar to drown out the sound of the waterbed's waves.

The rest of your things were upstairs. Ever since your parents moved away when you turned 21. You had the entire house to yourself. Something you told Eddie about at the time. You liked the idea of your bedroom being your sanctuary. A place where you felt most alive. Most creative. It was also the place where Eddie took your virginity.