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sapphicvqmpires · 1 year

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❁ཻུ۪۪♡ seven wonders

Pairing - shuri x black!fem reader

Word Count - 7.3k

Contains - smut (18+), soft!dom shuri, sub!reader, cunnilingus, fingering, tribbing, edging, choking/breathplay, overstimulation, clit play, shuri is a tease, praise kink, fluff

Divider From - @firefly-graphics

Sneak Peak - “What life took away from me, Bast replaced with you. You, my angel, are my gift.” She places a kiss on your cheek, the salt of your tears lingering on her lips and she allows it because she wants to stay here forever, wants to sulk in everything she’s feeling as a reminder that this is not a dream. She begins crying with you, overwhelmed with the gift that was you, overwhelmed that she had explored the world’s most intricate of beauties and yet you were still the most beautiful to her.

Tags - @inmyheadimobsessed @amplifiedmoan @vampzxi @abenomeiiii @imjusthere2readbruv @desswright29 @heejayy @shurislover @shurismainbxtch @garden-of-venus @tiii-iiiiii @verachii @ihearttish @playhousedistee @somethingcleaverandwhitty @niyahwrites @tishsrealwife @oceean @sookiesookie @myaraines @cafehyunji @6-noir @ventingfanfics @ririslove @marsolgy @shaiwritesss @naomis-daydream @prettymrswright @pocketsizedpanther (comment if you wanna be tagged in future fics, 18+ please)

Song Inspiration - another heartbreak: giveon, pov: ariana grande (readers pov), favorite song: toosii, reflections: dustystaytrue ft. toosii (shuri’s pov)

Writers Note: this fic is me self projecting in both of these characters. I just wanna love and be loved. This fic lowkey kicked my ass, why is writing fluff lowkey hard?? But shuri loves her baby girl so much in this one like whew, I need herrr. Anyways, as always, I hope you all enjoy my lovessss :)

♪ ༘⋆ Tears don’t fall when you’re right here, Perfect for me that’s my fear ♪ ༘⋆ (another heartbreak - giveon)

❁ཻུ۪۪♡ The evening is nothing short of perfect, sitting on a rooftop in Rio de Janeiro while the sun sets in the distance, a perfect image of the panoramic painting you sat in. Vibrant hues surrounded you as you sat in front of a small circular table that came alive with the flickering glow of candle light, a vibrant bouquet of exotic flowers and the fresh aroma of Brazilian cuisine. There were the sweet sounds of Bossa Nova playing in the distance, mixing in with the gentle rhythm of waves that settled in the not too far shore. To complete the picturesque view is what you were in this city for in the first place: the Christ the Redeemer Statue.

It was at this very moment that you found yourself at the final stop of your trip around the world. It was a trip orchestrated by your beloved girlfriend, Shuri, who cherished you deeply and wanted to show you what beauty the world had to offer. You had visited the Seven Wonders, each destination bringing you that much closer to the true joy you deserved. Shuri understood that before her arrival, you did not get out much. Not because you had no desire, not because you didn’t have the funds to, but because you simply had no one to share the world with. Life has presented you with hardships, constructing barriers that made you wary of the genuine splendor life had to offer. It obscured your understanding of what love truly entailed, as your past relationships, be they platonic or romantic, introduced individuals who made you question your self-worth. However, once again, you found yourself on a rooftop, accompanied by your girlfriend who quite literally gave you the world, even within the few fleeting months you two had spent together. Her love for you surpassed any other person you had encountered, and it was precisely all of this that frightened you.

“What’s on your mind, sthandwa sam?” Her voice held a gentle quality, infused with a subtle rasp that made you dizzy. It was flawless. Almost unnaturally flawless.

“Kwenzeka ntoni kula ntloko yakho intle?” (“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”)

Being with Shuri was the most transparent you had ever been. She consistently motivated you to express yourself fully, urging you to share your emotions openly and honestly. She possessed a deep understanding of your thoughts and the fears that were buried in your heart, which often hindered your ability to fully embrace the love she shared with you. Nonetheless, Shuri loved and respected you unconditionally. She yearned to hear your emotional release, offering her unwavering support to catch and discard them, surpassing any previous support you had ever received. She aspired to be there for you, her princess, in ways that no one else had ever been. And this is why it wasn’t terribly challenging to open up to her.

“Shuri, you know what I’m thinking.”

“I know, nkosazana, but I wanna hear you say it. Thetha nam ndimamele.” (“Speak to me and I’ll listen.”)

“Shuri-”

“Please, y/n. Please.”

You observe her, appreciating the exquisite features that decorated her face. She was so beautiful, so full of love in a body that has also been through pain and suffering. Shuri intimately understands the harsh realities of life, having experienced her own share of adversity. That's precisely why she gently encourages you to release the emotions you've kept bottled up. Her intention is never to cause discomfort or obligate you to share your past traumas. Rather, she seeks to help you acknowledge and process the feelings your mind and body are urging you to confront, enabling you to progress forward.

You bask in her warm glance for a few moments longer before you softly exhale, preparing your heart for what’s to come.

“It’s just a lot, Shuri. Not in a bad way. It’s never in a bad way when it comes to you. You’re so perfect, your love is overflowing and shit. It’s just…I’m just…”

“Yitsho.” (Say it.)

You sigh.

“Shuri, I-I just…”

Shuri notices your struggle, the way your voice breaks off and she immediately runs to your side, placing a kiss on your forehead before she lowers herself on one knee in front of you. She takes your hands, running her soft lips against your knuckles and you could cry. You loved her so much and it scared the shit out of you that you knew she deeply loved you too.

“I’m scared, Shuri.”

“Mhmm. Keep going, my love, I’m right here. Let it out.”

“I’m scared that…” Your voice gradually faded with your words becoming entangled in your throat, making it harder to breathe. You took a brief pause, collecting your thoughts so that they could flow effortlessly from your lips. “I’m scared that one day you’re gonna look at me and not love what you see anymore.”

You stopped there, curious as to what kind of response she would give you. But of course, she only encouraged you to proceed.

“You’re doing so good, y/n. Keep going…I know there’s more in that big heart of yours.”

You let out another sigh, not born out of annoyance or frustration, but rather a sigh of relief.

“I’m just worried that one day you’re gonna get tired of me, that I’m going to be…I don’t know…I guess just too much. To be fair, I am kinda a lot to be around…I-I understand that I’m not the easiest person to love, and that I can be a handful…”

You were on the verge of tears, but you didn’t allow them to escape you just yet. “I’m just scared you’re gonna get tired of me and I’m just not sure I can handle that, Shuri.”

“Mmm,” Shuri hummed, not once taking her gaze off yours as she continued to kneel in front of you. She brought your hands in for a kiss, loving lips attaching themselves to your soft, brown skin. She lifts herself up to reach your forehead, placing one last kiss before she speaks.

“You know why I chose you, y/n?”

You shake your head, unable to speak in fear that your emotions might overwhelm you and you did not want to ruin this perfect evening with Shuri more than you already felt you had. Shuri lets out a soft chuckle, her pearly teeth revealed through a crooked grin that placed butterflies in the depths of your stomach.

“It’s actually quite simple, nkosazana. I chose you because I love you. I love everything about you. I love your dimples when you smile, and those beautiful eyes, sthandwa. I love your body, everything about it is perfect. Your stomach, your thighs…what’s in between your thighs-“

“Shuri, you’re just talking about my body--”

“Ssshhh, I’m not done. I love your sense of humor, how you’re always laughing and it makes me laugh. Puts a smile to my face when I have no smile to offer. I love your strength and your capability to love even though the world has not been so kind to you. I love your creativity and how artistic you are, it balances me out because you know I love my science. It's nice to have an artist to level the plane. I love your beautiful dark skin and all its simplicities and complexities. I love how you encourage me to be my best, and you push me to be better, for you but most importantly for myself…”

“Shuri…”

“Wait, sthandwa, I have more to say. When…when I lost my brother, I felt as if the world came crashing down on me…he was my favorite person to be around and when he was gone…there was just…nothing…”

Her voice started to falter, unveiling the enduring pain that Shuri carries within herself each day, concealed by the smile she presents to you. A solitary teardrop escaped from her eye, though she hastily wiped it away. She wasn't prepared to break just yet, and neither were you.

“Shuri, you don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want to.”

“I want to…and I need to. And you need to hear it.”

You offer a tender smile, conveying to Shuri that everything would be alright. Shuri breathes in, lightly grazing her lips against your hands before proceeding.

“And then…when my mother died…I just…”

“Shuri-”

“I had no will to live anymore because what was the point? I had no one. Nothing. Until…until you.”

You choked down a sob, one that would undoubtedly have torn through your entire being had you let it fully consume you.

“You reminded me of what it is to be happy, to laugh, like genuinely laugh…haven’t done that since my brother, I almost forgot what it felt like. You showed me that there’s so much more to live for, so much the world has to offer and I wouldn’t have it any other way, nkosazana.”

You offer a subtle nod, tears streaming down your face with an unrestrained flow, and this time you permit it. She was utterly flawless, an exquisite fusion of affection and happiness, seamlessly mending the shattered fragments of your own existence. Her embrace provided solace, her gaze offered a sense of security, and there was no place in the world you'd prefer to be at this very moment, and no one else you'd rather be with.

“Umhle kakhulu, y/n,” ("I love you, y/n”) she says with one last kiss before she stands, gesturing to you to stand as well. She pulls you into her embrace, a hug that engulfs every fiber of your being, immersing you in the warmth emanating from her body and permeating back into yours. She placed a firm kiss onto your forehead before you pressed your face into her chest, allowing gentle tears to cascade down your cheeks and onto the fabric of her shirt. Yet, she doesn't mind. She wanted to catch every single droplet that escaped you and tuck them away so you were no longer burdened by fears that weren’t truly there. She hated that you felt scared, apprehensive about the future and the uncertainties it holds, because she will never abandon you. She needs you just as much as you need her. Perhaps even more so.

She cupped your face in the palm of your hands, looking down at puffy eyes and puffy lips as you sniffled.

“You’re literally so beautiful, y/n,” she promises, pressing a kiss into your nose. “Just pour it out, let yourself feel the things you feel, my love. You have to let it out, y/n. Do you understand me?”

You nod, your lips forming a pout before more tears fell from her words.

“I’m not saying you have to explain things when you don’t feel like it. But what I am saying is I am your partner, your girlfriend and I’m here for you. I love you. And I want you to know that I love you, more than anything or anyone else in the world, and that I need you just as bad.”

If you hadn't been a tearful wreck before, you most certainly were now. Cheeks marked with traces of tears remained within Shuri's grasp as you drew her closer for another kiss.

“That’s it, y/n. Just let it out…I’m right here. Ndizohlala ndilapha.” (I’ll always be right here.”)

“I love you so so much, Shuri,” you promise, your voice broken from the lump in your throat.

“You know what the best part of this trip was, sthandwa sam?”

“Hmmm, what could that be, baby?”

A beautiful smile adorned her face as she lifted you up and twirled you around, dancing on a rooftop while your laughter echoed with genuine delight. She sat down on the chair, bringing you into her lap as you straddled her, holding her like it was your last time.

“We may have just traveled the world and its most exquisite landmarks, but you…you were my favorite part. No building or ancient structure is as beautiful and strong as my girl.”

The smile that graced your face was a sight of pure bliss in Shuri's eyes, as she cherished nothing more than the radiance of your beautiful smile. She buries her face in the nape of your neck, gently pressing her lips against your firm yet sensitive skin.

“Every morning I woke up next to you…every dinner I shared with you…every night I had my way with you…”

With each declaration, her kisses grew more fervent, targeting the places she knew weakened you. You wrapped your arms around her neck, fully embracing how much she rendered you powerless through every movement she made and every word she spoke. She was addicting, all consuming, fogging each and everyone of your senses but your pounding heart was a reminder as to where exactly you were.

“Shuri…we-we’re on a public rooftop,” you stuttered, trembling beneath her passionate kisses as you struggled to contain the pulse that found its way between your thighs.

“No one is coming. I made sure of that,” she replies, her face still sunken into your neck as she begins lifting your dress up to bunch around your waist. The light pulsing between your thighs transitioned to heavy throbbing, as melanated bodies grew more eager to feel one another.

“Let me know if you’re ok, y/n,” Shuri says, wanting to make sure that your head and heart is in the right place to proceed with her intimacy. You were more than ok, because even though your heart was often troubled and your mind was in constant battle, your body was always willing to receive whatever obstacle Shuri would give you.

“I’m ok, Shuri,” you reply desperately, slowly grinding your crotch in her lap. Shuri notices this, wasting no time in cupping your saturated cunt, casually stroking you over the thin lace of your panties. It was torturous, how close yet so far she was from where you needed her.

“Shuri,” you whined, a wounded sound that made Shuri smile.

“That’s it, sthandwa. Yilangazelele.” (That’s it, baby. Be desperate for it.”)

“Mmmm,” you moaned as she carefully pulled the fabric to the side, gliding her fingers through your folds, grazing your pulsing clit and it made you frantic. “Sh-Shuri.”

Her strokes came to a halt as she pressed into your clit, a shocking sensation radiating through your thumping nerves.

“Show me how you do it,” she whispered into you.

“Hmm?” you moaned in question.

“Show me how you do it, my pretty girl. Rock on me. Be desperate for it.”

She gently caressed your clit for a few more beats before ceasing, signaling your cue. Gradually, you widen the space between your thighs, allowing her more room to tenderly touch your delicate clit with the pads of her fingers, exerting a firm pressure as you slowly but surely start to grind in response. She wanted to watch you work for it, observe your struggle as you ascended towards your own pleasure.

“Shuri, baby. Ah.”

The feeling was deeply fulfilling, your clit fluttering with each swipe as your soft moans pleased Shuri’s senses. A grin appeared on Shuri's lips as she observed how your pleasure radiated through your facial expressions. Your eyelids grow heavy, your eyebrows relaxed as your mouth falls open. The knot in your stomach tightened as your grinds became harder, your pussy getting louder as you soaked her fingers.

“Look at you go.”

“Unh.”

“Yeah that’s right,y/n. Mntana oyimtombazana.” (“Work for it.”)

“Shuri, unh..shit.”

Shuri gently grabs your throat, not enough to hinder your breathing but enough to get your attention. She entices you closer, pulling you in as she presses her lips to your ear, her words eliciting a shiver that surges through your body, infusing your pounding clit with waves of pleasure, as if it wasn’t already too much on your body.

“Such a needy little pussy, huh?”

“Mhmm. Yeah.”

“So slippery, nkosazana. All this just for me, yeah?”

“Yes, baby yes.”

It was absolutely sensational, her fingers coming in contact with your body as you rubbed against her created a knot in your stomach as the heat coursed through your legs and Shuri’s gaze remained on you, shifting from your pleasured face to your tired cunt.

“Your pussy is so pretty, look at how swollen you are…Bast.”

“Sh-Shuri,” you tremble, a warning that you were close. “I..I..I’m close. Mmm…uhn.”

“Hold it, sthandwa. I know you can.”

“B-but I can’t. I need to.”

“You can do it. Cuz you got no choice, my pretty girl. The most beautiful girl.”

Her carefully selected words seamlessly intertwined with your every gesture, engulfing you in a sensation that overwhelmed your mind and your pussy. The intensity compelled you to surrender, to embrace the fiery passion swirling within your core, while your pussy delicately throbbed.

“Shuri, stop talking like that…you’re gonna make me…f-fuck. Shit.”

“What is it, y/n? Can’t handle being my pretty princess?” She gained pleasure from teasing you, relishing in the sight of your blissful torment while you writhed on top of her, fighting hard to obey her and not cum until she let you. “Would you rather be my pretty slut?”

“Baby…please,” you begged.

“Mmmm,” she hummed low. “You can be both.”

“Shit,” you whined, unintentionally slowing your movements down to give your swollen clit a moment to wind down.

“Khange ndithi ungacotha. Qhubeka uhamba. Ndibonise ukuba ufuna embi kangakanani.” (I didn’t say you can slow down. Keep going. Show me how bad you want it.”)

“Shuri..I-I…”

As you were at the threshold, a few more swipes away from releasing onto her, she removed her fingers from you, a long sticky line connecting with her fingers until she drew them into her mouth, cleaning them dry as she kept her eyes on you.

“Wh-why did you do that?,” you struggled to say as your impending orgasm remained trapped between your legs, so close to being released from your body before she denied you. Shuri chuckles before kissing your cheek, still tear-stained from earlier.

“Ssshh, my love. You’ll get it soon. Don’t worry.”

Gently raising you from her lap, she clasped your hand as the two of you headed back to your hotel room. Your tense pussy nerves made walking a challenge, causing you to falter occasionally, but Shuri guided you every step of the way.

♪ ༘⋆ You love my lips ‘cause they say the things we’ve always been afraid of, I can feel it starting to subside, learning to believe in what is mine ♪ ༘⋆ (pov - ariana grande)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

"Oh my god, Shuri!" you exclaim, caught off guard, as Shuri effortlessly lifts you off the ground and twirls you around, cradling your body in her embrace as you walk down the hotel corridor. With a playful gesture, she plants several kisses on your cheek, eliciting another burst of laughter from you. “Shuri, put me down!,” you manage to utter amidst your genuine laughter, even though your plea for her to let you go was anything but.

“Absolutely not, nkoszana,” she teases, spinning you once more before you make it to your hotel door. It was then Shuri placed you down, trapping you between the door and her body as her mouth traveled back to that sweet spot on your neck. Your hand made its way to the back of her head, gently grasping her soft curls as her passionate kisses milk a moan off your lips. Her hands creep down your body, caressing your curves before her fingers slowly find their way between your legs again, causing your knees to give out for a split second as you were still sore from your unreleased orgasm.

“Wait-Shuri…shit.”

The instant her fingers stroke you over the drenched material, a familiar sensation stirs within you, beckoning your orgasm to well up once more, eager to escape from your body.

“Shuri…please.”

“Hmmm?”

“Shuri…I…inside please, let’s go inside?”

She lifted her face from your neck, her hungry eyes meeting your pained ones as she continued her assault on your pussy. She dips her ring and middle finger beneath the fabric, coming in pure contact with your swollen clit once again, sending an electric pulse swimming through your aching cunt.

“Shuri-ah!,” you moaned loudly, most likely audible to anyone that may have been occupying any other of the hotel rooms. Shuri lifted a finger to your lip, a gesture that told you to keep quiet.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whispered, struggling to keep your heavy moans at bay.

“It’s ok, sthandwa, you’re ok. Let’s go inside now, yeah?”

You nodded, the only response you could give because if you dare to speak, coherent words would not fall out. Shuri only smirked at you, opening the door before lifting you up once again, shutting the door behind her aggressively while the two of you passionately kissed until your back gently pressed onto the bed.

Shuri was delicate in removing your dress from your body, gliding the zipper downwards and gracefully allowing the slender straps to slip off your shoulders. Your panties, she was not so gentle with, hooking her fingers underneath the lace that hugged your hips and tearing them, causing a whine to escape your lips.

“Shuri!”

“I’ll get you another pair, my love, do not worry.”

You yearned one another intensely, craving Shuri's touch with a deep hunger, and she desired you just as deep. For a moment, she got off the bed, allowing herself to become entranced with the way your slick glistened your inner thighs, doing all this as she unbuttoned her dress shirt and rolled up her sleeves, her small gold chain crystalline against her ebony skin. She was so beautiful and the sight of her only heightened your arousal, your core pulsing beneath her gaze.

Shuri got on the bed, resting herself on the headboard before motioning you to sit on her lap and you oblige, spreading your legs over hers as your pussy lingered above her crotch. She wasted no time sinking her eager fingers through your folds, her digits getting lost in your thick, swollen pussy as you feel the coolness of her rings up against you. She occasionally brushes over your clit and you flinch every time, still sensitive from her lingering touch.

“Shuri, stop playing baby,” you whine, completely unashamed of how needy your plea sounds.

“Where do you want me?”

“Inside…pl-please?”

“Mhmm….” Shuri pressed into your clit once more, pushing loving circles into you before she made her way down to your clenching hole. You were drenched, desperate for her touch but Shuri desired to savor this moment as if it were a rare occurrence, aiming to reaffirm that you were more than what others perceived you to be because in her eyes, you meant everything and even more.

She traced her fingers over your entrance, feeling the way your pussy chased after her in desperation. The relentless teasing she subjected you to was unbearable, driving you to the edge of exhaustion as your impatience mounted, begging her to put an end to it.

“Shuri, pleeease.”

With a sly expression, Shuri's crooked grin compliments her fingers as they firmly dig into you, using her free hand to guide your body onto her as if you were sitting onto her strap. She continuously pushes into you until her knuckles kiss your pussy lips, Shuri’s fingers are well acquainted with your body, swiftly linking the pads with that special spot inside you that makes your pussy walls convulse violently, prompting you to bury your head into her as you moan into her shoulder.

“Oh yes, Shuri, unh.”

“I want you to bounce, nkosazana. Ride me like you ride my dick.”

With her words infused with the depth in her tone, it provided all the motivation you required. A shiver rushed down your spine, intertwining with the shiver that surged through your pussy walls, instantly targeting your g-spot as you milked Shuri’s fingers.

Raising your head from her shoulder, you met her gaze fixed not on your eyes but on your body, observing every reaction you had to her touch. The way your breasts bounced frantically in tempo with her thrusts, and the way your pussy lips swelled from the stimulation made it evident just how much you desired her and how eager you were to surrender to the woman below you. Shuri brought her lips to your face, her eyebrows scrunched together as she planted fervent kisses on your temple before softly whispering words of reassurance into your ear, causing your walls to clench around her with urgency.

“Injalo, ntombi yam entle. Yileqe.” (“That’s right, my pretty girl. Chase it.”)

“Shuri, please.”

“Ukhangeleka umhle ngolu hlobo. Intle kakhulu xa uyinqwenela.” (“You look so pretty like this. So pretty when you’re desperate for it.”)

It’s moments like these where you’re thankful that you learned to speak Xhosa fluently, your mind becoming foggy with the native words that spill off of Shuri's tongue as her thrusts and your bounces simultaneously find each other in your g-spot. It was nothing short of pure bliss as your orgasm crept through you, the heat in your stomach igniting as your wet pussy echoed through the hotel room.

“Sh-Shuri…I’m gonna cum, Shuri.”

“Then do it.”

“Ah!”

For a few moments longer, Shuri showers you with praise, extolling your body and emphasizing how flawlessly your pussy compliments her, designed to take her and listen to her and this was all made clear with how her voice radiated through her next words, instantly pushing you to your orgasm.

“Cum, baby. Let this aching pussy have what she’s been begging for all night.”

And with her words, the pressure built to your breaking point as you released right onto her, oozing onto her hand and trailing down to her crotch. Your orgasm crashed through you wave after wave as Shuri continued to praise you through it, making promises of forever and how much she loves her pretty girl.

“Shuri, yeah,” you trembled, moans shattered and delicate, struggling to articulate thoughts while your mind and pussy absorbed everything.

"Ngokwenyani ungoyena mntu umhle ndakha ndambona. Ndifuna nje ukwenza ukuba ube cum ngokuphindaphindiweyo." ("You're literally the most beautiful person I've ever seen. I just wanna make you cum over and over again.")

“I..fuck.”

“Will you let me do that, y/n? Make you cum all the time? Whenever I please?”

You nod frantically, the pulse in your walls growing as Shuri continues to fuck you through it, switching between rubbing your clit and thrusting into you as you struggle to come down from your blissful state.

“Fuck, I love you,” she mumbles, repositioning you so your on your back, almost unaware of where you were but you snapped back to reality as you feel Shuri spread your legs open and place her mouth inbetween them, grazing her lips over your still sensitive clit and your whole body spasmed at her touch, absolutely fragile from your lingering orgasm.

“W-wait Shuri…I can’t…please,” you whimper, placing your hand over your aching pussy.

“Yihambise.” (“Move it.”)

“Baby…I-I…”

“Y/n…I said move it.”

You shake your head from side to side in protest, your face contorting in a mix of desperation and fatigue as your delicate pussy continues its rhythmic throb. Shuri removes herself from between your thighs, leaning forward to meet your gaze as she gently pinches your chin to redirect your attention to her. Cradling the back of your head, she holds you close, her light chain dangling inches from your face.

“There isn’t a woman in the world as strong as my baby girl. You can take anything. I promise. Do you understand me?”

You vigorously nod and she chuckles at the sight of your vulnerability, noticing how your responses have been reduced to mere head gestures, as you grapple to form coherent sentences.

“I know what your pussy needs, and from the way you’re still leaking onto these sheets like a slut, I know she wants more. Am I right?”

Another nod.

“Uze ube yintombazana elungileyo kum, nkosazana, wenze le nto ndiyithethayo. Hambisa isandla sakho.” (“Then be a good girl for me, princess, and do what I say. Move your hand.”)

You hesitated at first before you obeyed her words. You removed your hand from the heat between your thighs, revealing your pussy that continued to drip for her. Your pussy lips were puffy, your clit enlarged as you opened your legs wider for Shuris devour and she practically salivated at the sight of you before she dove into her meal with one flat lick through your folds. Instantly, your hand gravitates to your pussy again but Shuri lightly pushes it out the way, allowing nothing to get between her and what belongs to her.

“Ungakhe ucinge ngayo.” (“Don’t even think about it.”)

Finally, she takes your clit into the swells of her lips, pulling you into her mouth as she sucked and slurped both in and around you. Your legs rest on her shoulders, her hands hooked around your thighs, your toes perfectly pointed. It was overwhelming, her mouth on you as she moaned into your pussy and connected her gaze with yours. You brought your hand to gently fist her curls, using them as a handle to grind down on her tongue.

“Shuri, oh my god, baby yes,”

“Take it easy, sthandwa. I don’t want you cumming just yet.”

“Oh…okay…fuck.”

The squelch of your pussy resonated loudly, wet lips meeting wet lips as you sensed your impending climax. Your stomach started to twist into knots, the soles of your feet and palms of your hands tingle while your pussy hole tightened. You weren’t certain with how much longer you could keep it in as Shuri’s tongue work seemed to intensify, causing your cunt to clench repeatedly.

“Baby…I’m gonna-you’re gonna make me-”

Once again, Shuri moaned into your pussy, a sound that added to your already soaked cunt before reluctantly letting go. The physical and mental turmoil of nearing the threshold, only to be abruptly pulled away was agonizing. But Shuri had a different plan for the both of you. She wanted to experience your body entirely, to witness your release directly onto her as your body completely unraveled and understood that you belonged to her and it will remain so as long as you allow it.

She locks eyes with you while standing by the bed. With elegance and sexual frustration, she begins to unbutton the rest of her dress shirt, meticulously lifting the fabric from her body. Her perky breasts rest beautifully on her chest, her dark skin seemingly eager to intertwine with yours. As she begins to undo her belt buckle, you shift your position to sit at the edge of the bed in front of her, wanting to take over and complete the task yourself.

“Here baby, lemme take these off of you,” you plead. She nods in agreement, making room for you to complete the job. You earnestly unbuckle her belt, undoing each button one by one as you press your lips against the valley in her breasts. When her pants were undone, you slipped your hand beneath her boxers, your palm coming in direct contact with her dripping pussy and she took a sharp inhale as you glided through her folds.

“So wet just from tasting me,” you whispered with a smirk.

“Ndimanzi kuba ndikuthanda,” she replied. (“I’m wet because I love you.) She completely removes her pants and boxers from her body, standing before you fully bare in her petite yet toned body. “Lala phantsi ngenxa yam.” (“Lie back down for me.”)

In no time, Shuri grips your calf, guiding you into a perfect position where her pussy can meet yours. The moment she touches you, the instant her aching bud kisses yours, a surge of immediate pleasure overwhelms you, your jaw falling open as you sing soft melodies of praise meant for her ears only.

“Fuck baby.”

She embraces you, swaying back and forth until it feels like the entire universe is within your grasp. Your melanated skins meld as one, two feminine bodies intertwining to form the most exquisite shades of brown.

“Sh-Shuri, un-UNH.” Your moans escalated, becoming filthier by the second and you couldn't help but feel a tinge of embarrassment with how easily aroused you became and so you bit your bottom lip to try and contain the shameful moans that sat in the pit of your throat. Shuri's face was concentrated, eyebrows furrowing as she was captivated by the sight of your puffy pussy on hers; concentrated on sloshing cores and the friction created below. But she was determined to hear you, reveling in your inability to keep quiet as she pleased you with her body. She allowed muffled moans and gentle whimpers to linger on for too long, fully aware that you wanted to completely unleash yourself. And she would make you.

“No, don’t do that.”

“Hmm?”

“Don’t hold back.”

No matter how many times she saw you naked, how many times she’s fucked you into oblivion, you always became embarrassed with how effortlessly compliant your body was, how loud your mouth and your pussy desperately became.

“What’d I say about holding it in?”

You shake your head in defiance, struggling to muffle the pitiful moan welling up within you. It's almost as if you're testing her, curious to see how she'll respond and whether she'll get her way. Shuri doesn’t hesitate to snake her palm around your throat, almost in a loving manner as she grins. She presses lightly, again, not enough to hinder your breathing pattern but enough to get your attention on her.

“Answer me, princess. What’d I say about holding it in?”

“Y-you…fuck. You said n-not to,” you struggled to say amidst Shuri’s heavy grinding.

“Injalo, ntombi yam entle,” she responds (“That’s right, my pretty girl). Still, you resist her, intrigued to witness the depths of determination in your normally tender and affectionate Shuri, to see how far she'll go in pursuing her own desires. You feel the compression on your windpipe escalate much harder than it was, oxygen struggling to move down your throat and it makes you soak as you moan in unison with your guttural gasps. You clasp her wrist for support, a soft smile appearing on your face as you get lost in your dwindling breathing pattern.

“I…Shuri…AH!”

“That’s it, y/n. Pour it out, just like I said. Let yourself feel the things you feel. Let me give your pretty pussy what she deserves…shit.”

“UNH.”

“Nantso ke sthandwa sam, mandikuva.” (“That’s it my love, let me hear you.”)

Your pussy entrance clenched frantically, your used clit beating like rapid thunder as your orgasm awaited you. And it was no different for Shuri. It was written all over her face. The more she spoke, the more broken and disheveled her sentences became, her jaw twitching and abs contracting as she chased her own high, absolutely desperate to feel your pussy cum all over her palpitating clit.

“Sh…Shuri! Ooooo fuck baby…I-I’m gonna…”

“Do it. Flood m-me…unh.”

Both of your moans were messy, filling the air with cries of each others names as Shuri continued to fuck you with her drenched pussy. It was exhilarating, a rush of warmth that surged through your body, starting as a tight ball of heat in your sex and radiating outward. The thump between your dewy folds pulsed at a faltering rhythm, one beat upon another, as you felt Shuri's clit continuously twitching and teasing against you.

“Fuck, y/n. You make my pussy feel so g-good,” Shuri moaned, struggling to descend from her own state of bliss. And she was a sight to see. Her dark skin glistened with perspiration, the chain adhering to her body due to the sweat. Her curls were ruffled, their natural pattern still discernible but marred by the droplets of sweat that trickled down her forehead. And you could always tell how hard her orgasm was rushing through her body with the way her abs tightened and her jaw clenched, her pussy puffed out as her clit jolted with pleasure. Your girlfriend was ridiculously sexy and the way her body reacted to yours was a testament in itself with how much she loved you.

Before you were able to come back to earth, you felt one last lick up your folds and you shuddered violently forcing Shuri to grip your thighs tightly in order to keep you still. You were still so achy, pulsations still finding a way to decrease as Shuri pressed her mouth onto you, kissing your pussy lips like they’re the lips on your face.

“Ugqibelele kakhulu,” she hums into your cunt before licking your juices up (“You’re so perfect,”). “Intwana yakho igqibelele.” (“Your pussy is so perfect.”)

Another lick through your folds that makes you jolt and you consider trying to squirm out of her grasp but the sight of Shuri worshiping words of praise into your pussy in her native tongue is enough to let you keep her there.

"Ndifuna ukudlala kwi intwana yakho ngalo lonke ixesha.” (“I want to play in your pussy all the time.”)

“Ufuna ukwenza ukuba uze ngapha nangapha nangaphezulu kwakhona.” (“Wanna make you cum over and over and over again.”)

“Nanini na ndifuna.” (“Whenever I want.”)

"Kuba ndiyakuthanda." (“Because I love you.”)

“Intwana yam.” (“My pussy.)

“Umntwana wam oyintombazana.” (“My baby girl.”)

They were words of promise, words of desire as you cum once more. The waves of her husky voice surged through you as her mouth wrapped around your clit and you whimpered through your overwhelming orgasm, legs trembling as you trapped Shuri between the thickness of your dark thighs.

“Sh-Shuri…please. I-ah…I can’t take it anymore.”

“I know, baby.”

“Then…please.” You were shaking, completely overtaken by it all. “Please Shuri…I can’t.”

Shuri plants one last kiss onto your clit and you shudder, breasts and thick thighs jiggling one last time before Shuri removes herself from the heaven between them. You were her baby girl, her princess, her everything and she didn’t want you to feel anything less. She comes back up to face you, caressing your cheek as sleep crept through your mind.

“Y/n…are you able to wash up yourself?”

You nodded and Shuri smiled, proud of you.

“Then go do it, please. I’ll be out here waiting for you.”

“W-wait…why can’t we wash up together? We always do it together,” you pouted.

“Sshhhh,” she whispered, still caressing your beautiful face. “Kukanye nje, sthandwa sam. Ndiyacela." (“Just this once, my love. Please.”)

You hesitate, but nod, bringing her in for a kiss as you taste the remnants of your pleasure on Shuri’s lips.

“Good girl. Always my good girl.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

♪ ༘⋆ Open up those gates to your heart, Only if you’ll let me ♪ ༘⋆ (favorite song - toosii)

After finishing your shower and changing into pajamas, you step out of the bathroom only to be greeted by a heartwarming sight that leaves you holding back tears. A trail of rose petals leads from the bathroom door to the neatly made hotel bed, where you and Shuri shared your intimate moment. Placed on the bed is a large stuffed panda bear, a thoughtful reminder that Shuri noticed your love for these creatures during your trip to China to visit The Great Wall. Right in front of the bear sits a beautifully wrapped box. Shuri's smile warms your heart, and you rush into her arms, straddling her with a passionate kiss. She changed into low waisted black joggers with a matching black crop top, showing off her sculpted body and toned arms as the subtle gold chain remained on her neck. She looked damn good.

“Baby, you didn’t have to do all this.”

“Of course I did. You’re my girlfriend.”

“Shuri…”

“Sshhh, y/n, just open it.”

“But I didn’t get you anything.”

“Y/n…I don’t get you things to get things in return. I get you things because I love you and because I can. Now open it…please?”

"Mmmm okay!," you giggled, playfully pecking Shuri's nose before removing yourself from her lap. You picked up the gift, giving it a little shake before eagerly unwrapping it. Inside, you found exquisite souvenirs from each of the stops you and Shuri had made on your trip to the Seven Wonders. The items looked rare and valuable, serving as a beautiful memento of the precious time you had spent with the woman you cherished the most.

“Shuriiiiii! Where-how? How did you get these??”

Shuri shrugs her shoulders, a half cocky grin painting her face. “I have my ways.”

You rolled your eyes in a playful manner, proceeding to dig through the gift. Along with it all was a kimoyo bracelet, and you smiled at the gesture.

“Thank you babyyyy,” you squeal, wrapping your arms around her neck. “Now I can do all the things you do!”

“Welllll not quite. Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now,” she chuckled. “I made this mostly so I can keep you safe even when I’m not around. That amongst…other things.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“What things?”

“Oh you know…like…things…like I can give you orgasms with it.”

“Oh my god, Shuri!,” you laugh, playfully hitting her once more before proceeding to look in the box, finding a folded piece of paper at the bottom.

“Oooo, what’s this??,” you ask before Shuri takes the paper from your hand, laughing in your state of confusion.

“I wanna read this to you myself,” she says, her voice smooth as silk.

“What is it?”

“Just relax for me. Here…hold this,” she says, placing the panda plush in your arms. It was so cute.

Shuri slowly unfolded the paper, kissing your lips before inhaling deeply.

“I call this piece ‘Seven Wonders’.”

“Piece? Shuri, what is this?”

“Just…listen...”

✎✯ “They say the world contains wonders, I heard there were seven

But what wonders do they speak of if we don’t live in heaven?

They say the world contains beauty, but for me it was tragic

And though I don’t believe fables, I believe you are magic

I say the world contains death, yet in you I find life

And though now I’m your girlfriend, I hope one day I’m your wife

I say the world is but hell, yet you are my heaven

And if the world contains wonders, then you are all seven” ✯✎

With each word, each stanza and rhyme, you were brought to a state of healing. A state where you could feel Shuri’s words pick up the pieces for you and mend them back into one. You were an emotional wreck, tears falling down your cheeks uncontrollably to a point where softs sobs ripped out of your mouth. Your chest felt heavy and light all at once, as you were overtaken and consumed by the love you had for your girlfriend.

“Shuri, what the fuck???,” you cried, basking it all in. “That was so fucking beautiful, what? I don’t even know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything, nkoszana. You just have to believe it.”

“Shuri I…I didn’t even get you anything.”

"Baby, come here," she murmurs gently, gesturing for you to return and settle back into her lap, and you comply willingly. With your puffy eyes meeting hers, she can't help but be overwhelmed with love for you.

“You are my gift.”

Your lips form a pout, eyes twinkling with your tears.

“What life took away from me, Bast replaced with you. You, my angel, are my gift.” She places a kiss on your cheek, the salt of your tears lingering on her lips and she allows it because she wants to stay here forever, wants to sulk in everything she’s feeling as a reminder that this is not a dream. She begins crying with you, overwhelmed with the gift that was you, overwhelmed that she had explored the world’s most intricate of beauties and yet you were still the most beautiful to her.

“Thank you my love,” you whisper for her ears only, nuzzling your face into the warmth of her neck as she kisses your temple in longing. “You’re my everything, Shuri.”

“Nawe ungowam.” (“And you are mine.”) ❁ཻུ۪۪♡

♪ ༘⋆ I see reflections of me when I look at you, and I ain’t never felt this way, and I can’t lie girl you got it, and I got pain all in my body you helping me heal from, lil’ mama a real one ♪ ༘⋆ (reflections - dustystaytrue ft. toosii)

#shuri x reader #shuri x you #shuri black panther #shuri fanfiction #shuri smut #dom!shuri #sub!y/n #smut #fluff #lesbian #sapphicvqmpires

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honeysuckleharringtons · 1 year

Note

Mm i just think Steve has a ton of sweaters, some snug that fit him well and some that are purposely big so he can drown in the warmth and comfort. And his mind would stop as soon as he sees you wearing one of his sweaters

went a lil silly and wrote a cutie lil blurb about steve's girl wearing his sweater, hope you enjoy! 🫶🏻

Fall-ing In Love ~ S. Harrington

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 0.5K

warnings: none, just tooth-rotting, pumpkin scented fluff

extra notes: all photos in the collage are from pinterest! dividers are by @firefly-graphics!

send me steve thoughts | ask box

The air was crisp, the scent of your favorite cinnamon candle burning in the living room wafting through the air as the menu credits of St. Elmo's Fire played from the television. Freshly plated pumpkin squares sat on the coffee table next to two mugs of milk, the scent only adding to the aroma of the candle. The scene truly looked like something straight out of a romance movie, and the only thing missing was your leading man.

Just as you checked your watch, the familiar sound of the car engine turning off rumbled outside, prompting you to leave your spot on the couch and head for the door. Instinctively pulling open the door, you greeted Steve with a soft peck before moving to let him in.

The boy's jaw was just about on the floor as he took in the sight in front of him—you, all wrapped up in the sweater he'd forgotten a couple days ago, looking absolutely beautiful and perfect. It was a navy blue number, one that fit him snuggly but seemingly swallowed you whole. You had to curl the ends of the sleeves into your fists, effectively making paws out of the material, so they didn't drag or get caught in any of the snacks you'd made.

"Woohoo," you called, waving a hand in front of his widened eyes. "You good up there?"

He blinked a couple times, bringing himself out of his thoughts. "Just wondering how in the world I got so lucky enough to end up with the prettiest girl this side of the Mississippi."

A blush crept up your cheeks as you flashed a shy smile his way. "You think I'm pretty, Stevie?" you kidded, hitting his chest jokingly. "I never would've guessed."

A deep chuckle fell from his lips as he pulled you in for a hug, his lips pressing softly into your scalp. "I think you're very pretty. The prettiest girl in the whole galaxy."

You shot him a playful look, a smirk tugging at your mouth. "What made me get upgraded in the last ten seconds?"

And with that, he was back to his normal self. Not that Steve wasn't sappy or absolutely in love with you, but that was just the bonus version of Steve. The Steve you'd fallen for was sarcastic and playful and knew exactly how to create the perfect balance of charm and romance. "I take it back. Your sarcasm has you back down to 'prettiest girl this side of the Mississippi'," he joked, slapping you playfully across your denim-clad butt.

In a matter of seconds, you were back in the living room, Steve's face practically glowing as he took in the display in front of him. "Woman, you spoil me."

You brushed a delicate kiss to the sharp line of his jaw, arms wrapping around his midsection. "It's easy to spoil someone when they love you the way you love me."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," he commented, lips meeting the top of your head once more.

Your eyes met his, a knowing smile splayed across both of your mouths. "Well, for one, you'd have no one to share your sweaters with. And for two, you'd die of pumpkin deprivation."

"And that, my love, is a world in which no one deserves to live."

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-died-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @esoltis280

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kuroppiii · 1 month

Text

ㅤfireflies ᵕ̈ boyfie!kuroo tetsurō x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : stars twinkle around you , ⋮⋮ but both of you are still on earth

📋 content ♡ # 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 🐮 ♡ # 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦 🥛 ♡ # ~500 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴

🧸 directory ‹ ✩ like what you read ? check out more of my blog ! •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ not proofread !!! the voices were telling me to just pump this out bc he consumes all my thoughts and neurons in my brain !!! ”

melting into the plush blanket under you, your head rests in the area between kuroo’s shoulder and his chest. it’s dark outside, probably close to midnight—even the street lamps lining the bridge in your peripherals have gone to sleep.

the blades of grass are soft as they graze the exposed skin of your ankle. you bask in the mixed lullaby of the river—only a few paces away from your two pairs of feet, bubbling and trickling by—and the rise and fall of your boyfriend’s chest as his breath sounds steady under your ear.

tiny, fleeting blinks of warm light appear then disappear from your vision. they pop up randomly in your surroundings—unpredictable, teasing, and playful. the fireflies dance along the skirt of the creek, as you and kuroo lay comfortably in each other’s arms.

“i used to love catching fireflies when i was little” kuroo’s voice speaks up, deep and uneven from being unused in the still night, “do you know what chemicals are involved when a firefly lights up?”

“no... what are they?” your voice contains a tiny lace of tiredness, like it’s on the verge of a yawn. you already know what you’re getting into. but a small part of you still gets excited to hear whatever spiel that’s about to come out of kuroo’s mouth.

“well, first they have oxygen in them, and this thing called luciferin. that’s a common chemical that makes things glow on nature...” as you still stare at the water and the fireflies lingering above your heads, you can feel him playing with your fingers gently.

“and then there’s an enzyme, luciferase. sounds luciferin, right? that’s because it’s the reaction’s catalyst,” you readjust your head on the fabric of his thick hoodie, and above you he tucks your head under his chin, “it’s luciferase’s other half, in a way.”

“then they all come together to make oxyluciferin and energy—that’s what emits the light from the firefly’s body,” you watch as his sneakers start to innocently move around, side-to-side down at the edge of your blanket.

“and yeah, that's about it,” kuroo attempts to reach his arm out and catch one of the fireflies in his grasp. he fails, so his hand returns to tangle with yours on his torso.

“why don't they blow up?” you mumble, breathing in his scent.

his chest rumbles in a chuckle under you, “excuse me?”

“don't chemical reactions cause things to blow up sometimes?”

“not all the time,” the arm wrapped around your side pulls you in closer briefly.

“aww,” you feign in monotone disappointment.

“you want innocent fireflies to blow up?”

“no...” not when he words it like that. you pause, considering if expressing the next thought that comes to your head was necessary. you end up whispering, “if they did they wouldn’t look so pretty tonight.”

without missing a beat, your boyfriend whispers back, “not as pretty as you.”

“i wish you would blow up.”

he bends down to plant something between a grin and a kiss on your cheek.

#🌼 𝗵𝗮𝗶𝗸𝘆𝘂𝘂 #🌼 𝗸𝘂𝗿𝗼𝗼 𝘁𝗲𝘁𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗼 #did this while waiting for my food #just wanna love him and hold him #and put him in my pocket #haikyuu #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsuro fluff #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo tetsurou #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo x reader

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milliesfishes · 3 months

Note

Request! Reader tries to put herself in danger to help/protect Billy and he’s like ABSOLUTELY NOT

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓽𝓻𝔂 𝓽𝓸 𝓱𝓮𝓵𝓹 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝔁 𝓫𝓲𝓵𝓵𝔂 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓴𝓲𝓭 *based a little on the series finale because omg*

Love means supporting each other. Love means protection. Billy knew that better than anyone.

He kept his gun close and his loved ones closer. How else was he guaranteed those he cared for wouldn't be taken away from him? Like pages from the book of his life his family had been ripped from him. He wasn't going to let it happen with you.

You, whom his soul loved. You, soft and sweet and good, you who were everything he believed he lacked. He kept you like you were a firefly cupped in his hands, still letting you glow and breathe and fly if you so choose, but still close.

Billy had made his fair share of mistakes, but he wasn't going to screw up this time. Not with you at stake. Not with his girl, his sweetheart, his baby. He needed you like water, craved you like air.

Firmly, he kept his work and home life seperate, building a tall wall that kept you out of the dirt and grit of his gunslinger side. He made sure you never needed to know about anything he did to earn a living, smothering you with kisses and cuddles and distractions; pet names whispered in a honeyed tone, soft touches and extended time spent together. He spoiled you so you’d never have to know about the details of how he made a living.

Much to his frustration, he couldn't keep everything from you.

When you walked in on a discussion him and a few of the Regulators were having in the back room of the saloon about proceeding forward with an attack on a rival gang, his protection came in full swing.

He immediately jumped up, gently putting his arms around you as if he hadn't just been promising to exact revenge on those who'd wronged his men.

"Honey, what're ya doin' back here?" he asked, smoothing your hair with one of his rough hands. Maybe he babied you, maybe you made him soft, but he didn't care.

You looked up at him with the sweetest baby doll eyes he'd ever seen. Every time you looked at him, he thought that, but it made it no less special. "What are you talking about?"

Shaking his head lightly, he gave you an easy smile, thumbing your cheek as if smoothing it. "Nothin', baby. Just man's talk. Ain't nothin' important."

"But you were saying you were going to do something to someone," your pretty brow was furrowed, and he tried to smooth it out with his words.

"Darlin', ya don't need to worry 'bout none of that," he assured you, both his hands coming to hold your head. "Why don't ya go back in the other room, hm? I'll be over in justa minute."

His lips found your forehead in the hopes that it would convince you to leave, but you didn't. Instead, your hands came to his elbows. "Why are you talking about an attack?"

Damn. You'd heard more than he thought. Thinking there was no harm in giving you a little bit of information, he said, "We've just got somethin' to take care of, that's all."

"Can I come with?"

"No." The word was out of his mouth before he could regulate it, the tone harsher than he would have chosen. Seeing the slight surprise in your face from his suddenness, he tried to soothe it. "Sorry, baby. Just ain't a good spot for ya."

"Why not? I can help," you insisted, looking up at him determinedly. It was true that you could ride and shoot like the best of his men, better than some even. But There was no way in hell he was risking you like that.

"Sweetie, I ain't gettin' ya in trouble for nothin'," he said, gently but firmly. Billy's hands guided your head to his shoulder, holding it there.

"But you're gonna be getting in trouble," you tried to look up, but he was unmoving, and you felt his lips press to your hair and his nose dig into your part, inhaling softly.

"That's different and you know it," he muttered. One of his hands fell to your back, rubbing it softly.

"But I want to help," you tried, and his heart warmed at how earnest you were. Always such a sweetheart, wanting to shoulder his burdens.

Billy pulled you back so he could look you in the eye. "You stayin' safe is helpin'. Eases my mind." His thumb found your cheek again. "'m not puttin' my baby in danger when she don't needa be."

You seemed to see how unyielding he was in his decision, and so you gave him a nod. Exhaling in relief, he pulled you in for a hug. "Thank ya, sweetheart."

Obediently, you went back into the other room, and Billy turned back to his men, more determined than before. Your interruption had reminded him of what he was fighting for, and why he needed to come home safe.

Unfortunately, that wasn't in the cards.

The law caught up with him, setting a trap even the intricate circles of his gang couldn't have seen coming. He was behind bars before he knew it, in a cold cell faced with charges he couldn't even argue, because most of them were true. All he could think of was you, and how he wouldn't be coming home to your warm bed and snuggling up to you between the sheets.

Here he was stuck staring at the wall in an isolated cell, hoping the rest of his men had been able to get away.

It surprised him when after dark he heard keys jingling intermingled with footsteps, more than one set. He didn't think he'd be carted off to the next jail until morning. The door creaked as it swung open, and his surprise multiplied tenfold when you followed the deputy in.

"Got a visitor, Kid," the deputy grumbled, flipping through keys and sticking one into the lock of the cell. "Pretty one, too."

You held your head high as the door was opened, and Billy stood to greet you. He didn't know whether to scold scold or kiss you for coming to see him so late at night. "Baby-"

The decision was made for him as your lips came smashing against his, hand climbing to the back of his neck to pull his head down. His body responded immediately, holding your waist as his lips moved of their own accord. Once, he tried to pull back to say something but you cut him off with another urgent kiss.

Hands gripping his suspenders, you pushed him back to sit on his cot, climbing on top of him and sitting in his lap. All the while you were still kissing him like you never would again, your skirt bunched against your stomachs.

The deputy chuckled, and you turned around, giving him a longing look that almost made Billy laugh. Those baby doll eyes. The man turned back to his newspaper and you to Billy, pressing yourself close as your lips claimed his again.

It was a little jarring that you wanted to do this right in front of a stranger, but he was so glad to see you that he hardly gave it a thought. Instead, he focused on kissing his girl, making up for nearly a full day of not being able to do so. That was the real crime in his opinion. Lock him up for some other thing and throw away the key, so long as you were straddling his lap like this.

You removed his hand from your waist and his other arm immediately wrapped around it to keep you steady. He nearly gasped when you pressed his hand to your breast, his fingers immediately splaying over it.

After he held you there for a moment, you dragged his hand across your cleavage, and he felt something there. Something...hard.

Frowning in confusion, he reached under your blouse, but you stopped him, gesturing to the deputy with your eyes, leaning in and pecking his lips lightly. Billy got the message and moved his lips against yours sloppily. You let go of his hand and it continued its journey up your shirt, closing around that metallic, hard thing between your breasts.

Pulling it out, but keeping it hidden between your bodies, he kissed down your neck and opened his eyes barely. He would have recognized the feel of it anywhere, but of course he wanted to make sure.

A revolver, slightly warm from being pressed against your skin for who knows how long.

Looking up at you, Billy couldn't help the smile that spread over his face. He kissed you once more, pouring all his love and gratitude into it. I love you, I love you, I love you.

The deputy rapped on the bars, and you quickly took the gun, your hand dipping between his legs to hide it. The gesture made him grunt at where you accidentally brushed. Billy's knees closed the best they could to hold it there, and you stood, facing the jailer. "I'm ready."

He smirked, and unlocked the door, shaking his head as he did. "Young love..."

You grabbed the door by the bars and slammed it into the deputy's body hard. The sudden action sent him backwards and left him on the floor, unconscious.

Billy knew a signal when he saw one, and he leapt up, the gun in his hand. You knelt and stole the deputy's pistol, looking up at him with the same innocent eyes he'd always known.

When you stood, he took your arm and pulled you close for a deep, searing kiss. Your lips parted with a pop! and he said in a low voice, "My girl...bustin' me outta jail..."

"I told you I wanted to help," you breathed, and his lips found yours again.

"Told ya to stay outta danger," he muttered between kisses, his hand holding the gun tightening on your waist.

"I'm not made of sugar," you nudged your nose against his and he smiled.

"I beg to differ." Billy kissed the corner of your mouth. "M' baby's sweet as could be."

"You know what I meant," you giggled, and he nodded, kissing your chin.

"I know," he whispered, and he meant it, in every way possible. "Oh, I know."

You understood- he knew it from the look in your eyes. Your starry, bright eyes. Billy took your hand and pulled you out the door, sneaking past night guards and patches of moonlight to freedom.

Once you were past the walls, he pulled back to just look at you. His beribboned, badass sweetheart who'd thrown caution to the wind just to get him out.

He'd scold you between kisses snuggled up in bed later, but for now he was in awe.

Gun in hand, he pulled you into his arms, feeling his two worlds merge. With his chin on your head, he thanked his lucky stars that you'd seen how he'd been shrouded in darkness and embraced it while pulling him out.

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney fanfiction #billy the kid imagines #billy the kid imagine #billy bonney #billy the kid 2022 #milliesfishes updates <3 #william h bonney x you #william h bonney imagines #william h bonney #milliesfishes billy

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fayes-fics · 11 months

Text

Enthralled

Pairings: Vampire!Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader x Thomas Dorset

Summary: You and your new husband invite a handsome stranger to your rooms, but all is not as it seems...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, MMF threesome, dom/sub undertones, bisexual male characters, slash content, oral sex (f to m, m to m, m to f) blow jobs, deepthroat w smidge of breathplay, facesitting, edging/orgasm control, vaginal sex, anal sex, simultaneous penetration, multiple orgasms, biting, bloodplay, blood-drinking.

Word Count: 9k

Authors Note: The reader remix of this story. A gothic-ish Halloween threesome with Vampire!Benedict. This is my first foray into writing slash content. If you are looking for a plot or backstory, this will likely disappoint; it's just an excuse for vaguely spooky, unrelenting smut - I cannot celebrate a holiday any other way lol. I wanted to choose a minor show character as the husband, and Dr Dorset screams secretly adventurous to me. Please heed the warnings above; this is pretty full-on. If you proceed, I hope you enjoy! <3

Credits: Thanks to @colettebronte for advice and betaing and @eleanor-bradstreet for her Vampiric expertise. Artwork includes edits made weeks ago for this story by our dearly departed @bridgertontess. Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Benedict smells it long before he ever sees you.

Fresh blood, sweet young bodies in the flushes of arousal; it makes him hungry in every sense of the word. The almost painful need to feast and fuck. He inhales deep, lewdly, letting the tempting scents fill his being. He pulls on his cloak and goes out to find you.

—

Mrs Dorset.

You practice the name, sitting at the vanity table of your rooms at the inn, feeling cosy in the soft candlelight glow as the autumnal wind howls portentously beyond the window. The quill scratches the paper as you loop the letters, learning the structure of your new name as it flows under your hand.

“What are you doing, my love?” Thomas rounds behind you, returning to your rooms with steaming hot tea as promised.

“I am practising my new name,” you reply proudly, twisting to look up at your husband of merely two days as he places aside the tea tray, squeezing your shoulders lightly.

“Oh, I see, that is… well, that is wonderful,” his cadence wavering. It seems as if he is embarrassed at how something as simple as your desire to write his name could make him burn physically, the glistening, dark, looped strokes causing a primal wash of possession. His fingers flex instinctually, mapping your collarbone, your flesh irresistible under his fingertips. You squeak as he rocks his body into your back, something insistent pressing into your spine.

“Husband,” you drawl, meeting his eye in the vanity mirror. “Are you aroused?” Your question isn't judgemental, but pure curiosity and desire, leaning back into him.

“Yes, darling wife. You have my name. It is…. Appealing,” he answers honestly, a touch winded, his fingers trailing lower over your warm skin onto the swell of your breast.

Your eyes flash in the reflection, and then suddenly, you spin around on the stool and bury your face into his trousers, nuzzling his hardness. His growl is deep and wracked. So utterly undone by how forthright you can be with your intentions.

You look up at him, fluttering your eyelids as you pluck open his trousers determinedly, push down his underwear, and wrap your hands around the back of his thighs to draw him even closer. Immediately you encase his tasty warm cock in your mouth, so very keen for him.

He groans to the ceiling as if disbelieving in his luck.

—

Benedict finds himself outside the quaint country inn barely a quarter mile from his country home. No wonder he could smell it so strong.

As he stares up at a mullioned window, russet leaves swirling around his feet on this cold, crisp night, he sees the glowing candlelight signifying the room’s occupation. Indeed, it is the only one lit as such on the first floor. He surmises the couple are likely newlyweds, perhaps passing through the area on their honeymoon—the first ones who have done so since he was turned a few months back.

While he has trained himself on the scent of the people in the proximal area and taught himself they are not food, he is powerless to resist this. Them. From scent alone, they are in their twenties, and right now, they are engaging in something carnal. He can smell ripe juices swirling in the air along with the thronging of their hearts, blood coursing. It makes his cock strain painfully against the wool of his britches.

He never used to be like this—a creature of such base instinct. Yes, when human, he had his fair share of lovers of all persuasions, but it had been an occasional bacchanalian indulgence. Now. Now, he can barely contain himself. His tongue licks around the point of his fang, tasting the air, knowing without a doubt they will be under his thrall within moments of meeting and lost in a temporary reverie of how he will enjoy them.

—

“Y/n….” it’s throaty, raw, wrecked, a hand buried in your locks.

His taste is strong in your mouth as Thomas flops back upon the bed, utterly sated after he finds completion. You had pushed him backwards from the vanity table onto the edge of the bed and sunk to your knees before him, eagerly taking him into your mouth, motions wanton, brazen, your skill and enthusiasm blossoming under his few days of tutelage. Learning his body and needs; learning to use your tongue in ways that make him breathless and unerringly grateful.

You delicately wipe your chin of his seed with a handkerchief and rise to your feet as gracefully as you can as he lays there panting, staring at the velvet drapes over the four-poster bed, his mind blanked out from pleasure.

“Husband,” you coo in a light tease, “I do believe it is now time we took dinner; 'tis nearing 7pm.”

Thomas pouts, looking as if he wants to feast only upon you, not mere food. The grumble in his stomach, though, gives away his status, and your giggle makes him sit up reluctantly, tucking himself back into his trousers and righting his clothes.

“I suppose sustenance is required,” he smiles indulgently, standing up and wrapping you in his arms. “If only to provide energy for our later activities,” he adds teasingly into your ear; a light shiver runs through your being as he says it.

“Then let us eat, Dr Dorset,” you murmur into his jaw, running a hand down his waistcoat. Feeling light as air, you gigglingly tumble down the hallway and staircase to the public house below, wrapped up in each other’s arms, barely noticing the tall, cloaked figure as it slips in through the main door.

—

Benedict nods to Jenkins, the publican and innkeeper behind the bar; locals always having an open invitation to drink and dine any night of the week. Tonight, the public house is deserted save for a regular - drunkard Willie, propping up the corner of the bar as ever - and the newlywed couple now ensconced in an alcove by the roaring fireplace.

He sets eyes upon you both properly, and his insides almost feel warm. You are both beautiful in ways that make him ache. The man is tall, fair of face and built handsomely. You are just his type of woman physically with a spirited mien that looks like you would be the very best kind of challenge to tame. He longs to strip you both naked and run his tongue down your healthy contours, revel in your bodies, coursing with life.

Taking the brandy awaiting him on the bar, he glides towards you, flicking up his velvet collar as he does so, knowing of his powers and how to wield them to his advantage when needs must.

“Welcome to Wiltshire,” his opening gambit, smooth and dusky, raising his glass.

Both you and Thomas look up, startled at a handsome stranger’s interruption to your intimate conversation. Still, Benedict doesn't miss for a second how both of your eyes dilate rapidly.

“Thank you, kind sir,” Thomas Dorset stumbles, raising his glass without thought in a silent responding toast.

“Please call me Benedict. May I join you?” his ask is unfaulteringly polite, but with a lopsided grin, he has long learned is his ticket to everything he may want in this world.

Dorset immediately gestures for him to do so, despite himself, and Benedict slides smoothly onto the bench seat across from them with a dramatic swish of his ample velvet cloak.

“And you are?” he smiles at you both expectantly.

“Oh, where are my manners!?” Thomas decries as if snapping back to reality. “I am Dr Thomas Dorset, and this,” his arm wraps tighter around your shoulders, “is my wonderful new wife, Mrs y/n Dorset.”

You smile at Benedict; he can sense your apprehension at this stranger joining them but also hears your heart fluttering just a fraction harder as he meets your gaze. Can smell the uptick in your bodily response, a new tang to your natural scent that speaks of piqued interest. He knows with just a few well-deployed lingering looks and chosen words, he could throw you over the table right here in front of your husband and fuck you so well you would beg him for more. Again, he is grateful for the cloak he wears, hiding the bulge in his clothing that has barely slaked since your arrival to the area.

“It is so wonderful to meet you both,” he drawls, running a finger over his bottom lip to draw attention to his mouth. If you stare long enough, the thrall will be so easy. “What brings you to our fine village?”

“We are passing through on our way to Cornwall for our honeymoon,” Dorset confirms what Benedict already suspected.

“This is rather off the beaten path to such a place,” Benedict states dryly with a wink, knowing he is reeling you in with every word he utters.

“Indeed,” Thomas concedes, “my new wife insisted we come via this route to allow us to call upon her sister during our journey.”

Benedict smiles, subtly scenting your bodies as you and Thomas lean in without realising, falling under his spell.

“Well then, I insist I purchase your dinner and drinks this evening,” he declares, watching bemused as you both attempt to remonstrate. “I will not accept no for an answer,” he appends, victory glowing as you acquiesce, not realising this will be the first of many permissions you will grant him tonight, all being well.

—

You chew upon the venison slowly, one eye on your additional party, still unsure why he has chosen to join you and, indeed, pay for your meal when he apparently is not eating himself. Engaging you in conversation that seems peculiarly beguiling and dangerous all at once.

He is undoubtedly attractive. Hazy blue eyes under a mass of chestnut hair, a pale-skinned face with exquisite sharp lines. Feeling guilty to admit it silently, you find him just as attractive as your husband, maybe more so—something so hypnotic in how he holds himself, moves, and speaks. Finding yourself drawn to him, a stirring in your underwear that you swear he can sense. Every time a little frisson runs through your body, his head unerringly swings towards you, a slight curl in his luscious lip, like he is smelling your arousal and thinks it the tastiest treat in the world.

You could swear he is trying to steal you from your husband - and to your horror, you realise you would absolutely let him - except… his attention is just as rapt upon Thomas. Benedict’s gaze is just as covetous when he speaks. His tongue flicks the corner of his mouth as your husband casually leans back and crosses his legs—as if Benedict is scenting his body, too. It's confusing but intoxicating, as if your wine is laced with a far more potent substance.

—

Benedict knows he has won you both over before you put down your dessert spoons, now hanging on his every word.

“Let us repair to somewhere more intimate for a nightcap,” he suggests, and your joint responding consent is instant. “How about your rooms here at the Inn?”

Were you in your sound, sober minds, it seems unlikely you would invite a stranger to your rooms, but as it is, you enthusiastically do. Benedict snags the remainder of the brandy bottle from the bar as he settles the bill.

“Friends of yours?” Jenkins frowns, vaguely intrigued.

“Everyone is a friend yet to be made, Jenkins,” Benedict answers, intentionally vague.

Jenkins rolls his eyes. “Bloody poets…” he is heard to mutter under his breath, but Benedict lets it pass. If the man invoked the name Byron, perhaps he wouldn't have. Might have stolen a chicken or two from the coup outside to exsanguinate in revenge.

Benedict trails behind you, both pleasantly inebriated now, holding the wood panelling as you negotiate the narrow corridors of the inn to your rooms, inhibitions lowered. He knows you are just in that sweet spot where you will be so open to suggestions but not so out of your minds to be a pointless fuck, unable to respond. There is nothing less appealing to him than a lifeless, limp, unconscious being. Yes, easy to feed upon, perhaps, but no challenge. The only thrill he gets these days is that of the chase. Of the crackling potential of any moment, human hearts beating wildly in his presence, blood pumping hard—that is what brings him exhilaration.

—

Dorset fumbles the heavy iron key in the lock, leaning into you as you giggle along with him. The attractive, imposing man stood patiently behind you, seemingly sober, which is impressive given he drank more than you both. Still unsure what is possessing him to allow this, Thomas nevertheless feels compelled to do this man’s bidding, to allow this whatever he wishes.

It may be a secret he has kept from you, but Dorset is not immune to the charms of a handsome man. In his youthful days at Cambridge, he had many a clandestine encounter with his fellow students. Late drunken nights of experimentation. He knows the power of a man’s touch, enjoying the taboo feeling of being taken roughly, clawing the mattress as he is mounted without mercy. A man's body may differ greatly from a woman’s, but it is no less of an attractive wonderland.

Little does he know just how soon you will learn of that predilection.

—

You twirl around the room as the men take a seat and pour more liquor, feeling ebullient, basking in the heat of the fire on this cold autumn night, dizzy and fizzling with energy. You feel the gaze of both men, knowing both track your moments from the wingtip chairs they inhabit. Your insides feel ripe and pulpy, compelling you to be daring, a peculiar impulse to strip and dance naked in front of them.

There must have been something in my drink. Surely?

Your husband interrupts just as you think to act.

“Darling, come sit with us,” Thomas appeals, patting his knee enticingly.

He would never typically invite you to sit upon him in the company of a stranger, but everything about tonight feels different, so you allow yourself to be swept into it. To see what may arise with the handsome, mysterious visitor.

You float over and sigh as you fall into Thomas’ lap, the heat of his leg seeping through your dress, warming your bottom. He pulls you snugly into his lap, bumping a stirring hardness and without a doubt, you know this evening will go somewhere you never expected…. And yet, you can't wait for it to do so.

“Isn't my wife beautiful?” Dorset slurs, his breath hot on your ear, turning you both to face Benedict in the chair next to you as if he is seeking his approval for his choice of spouse.

“Indeed she is,” Benedict responds, dark and silky, a shiver tracing down your spine as he voices it. “As are you handsome, good sir,” he adds, and you know they are very much out of your depth as you feel the same shudder pass through your husband's being beneath you.

Oh, good lord, who is this man?

—

Benedict sees you reacting to his voice, sees the ripple in your beings, hears it in your breathing, and knows he has you fully enthralled. You are his to do precisely as he wants now. Tumbling images flash through his mind as to how he can have both of your bodies—sweat and skin, blood and bone, moving together in a carnal symphony.

His instinct is to take you and then your husband. He can see the willingness there, but he’ll need more enticing to allow that dormant flame to be relit. Perhaps watching you, his new wife, give yourself so readily will be just the nudge he needs to submit, also.

So when Thomas turns to Benedict, offering you on the plate that is his lap, he decides this is the moment to strike. Downing the rest of his glass, he stands and tugs at the string of his velvet cape, which falls to the floor with a heavy whump… to reveal his fitted cropped jacket and tight britches, tailored in black fabric like a second skin, giving away everything about what he has to offer.

He hears your sharp inhales at the unmistakable tented outline.

“Desire is such a funny thing, is it not?” he rumbles, moving closer, and your legs fall apart on instinct, the air suddenly filled with a potent scent of your arousal that makes his tongue itch to taste.

“In what way?” Thomas hitches, his hands grabbing your waist reflexively as Benedict can hear his heartbeat in his breathy cadence.

“You both want me, and yet you offer your wife to me first,” Benedict assesses cooly, raising an eyebrow as he takes a step closer, watching you squirm as your eyes are transfixed on his cock.

“I did nothing of the sor…” Thomas’s response dies on the spot as one long, slender finger lands on his lips, hushing him, a sharp fingernail resting under his nose.

“We both know you did,” Benedict argues laconically, “And lucky for you…” Benedict almost chuckles as you gasp when his other hand cups your jaw. “…She wants me too. Right now, her thighs are soaked with delicious slickness; I can smell it,” he states casually, holding you both.

“Is that true?” Thomas inquires, side-eying you but not moving under Benedict's finger.

“Yes,” you exhale shakily, unable to peel your gaze from Benedict's face now he has tilted your jaw up to him. “I want him, husband,” you confess raggedly, not knowing why you are voicing it. “And I want you to watch, to participate.”

Benedict chuckles again. “Of course, you do, little one. You love him, even if you are tempted by the fruit of another.” He traces a knuckle down over your chin, your throat, where your pulse is beating wildly, pausing on your clavicle. You know your eyes are wide and beseeching, begging for more.

Benedict swings his gaze to Thomas, then leans in. “If you truly love your wife, you will kiss me right now,” he taunts, his lips hovering so close, “give her a good show; I need her trembling before I take her.”

Come on, sweet prince, dance with me.

—

Thomas can barely comprehend what is transpiring. But he doesn't want to fight it. The man’s finger is cool on his lip as he poses the question. You are writhing deliciously in his lap, making his cock swell painfully against the cleft of your bottom. The next decision is inevitable, fated.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

He gently purses his lips and gives permission by bussing a featherlight kiss onto Benedict’s finger. The predatory smile that unfurls across the man’s face doesn't seem human, more akin to creature than man.

Then his jaw is tilted back, and his world swims as the man closes the few inches between their faces and kisses him. It's biting, hungry, desperate. A skilled tongue rolls over his, and Thomas feels a groan bubble up from deep inside. Possessed, overwhelmed, taken. Benedict tastes like sin but something odd like decay, too, at the edges of the fragrant brandy—some tart undercurrent that is wholly otherworldly and unnerving.

Thomas feels as much as he hears your moan. Feels the weight of your gaze glued to their faces, no doubt seeing a peak of their tongues entwining. Feels the weight of your body in his lap, moving rhythmically, grinding insistently, tilting your hips forward brazenly to drag your clit over the creases in his trousers. Your shameless want and desire are potent and arousing. Even as Benedict’s kiss steals his breath, a faint voice in his head gnaws about your actions being as inexplicable as his, but it's mostly drowned out by the roar of blood pumping hard in his system, seeming so loud around this man, as if he is in tune with it somehow.

As Benedict pulls back, Thomas's vision swims, awash with sensation. He watches, dazed, as the pale man turns and captures your mouth just as covetously.

—

You have only known the passionate kiss of one man—your husband. Yet a mere three days after your first mind-blowing experience of that, you have another first. Your first kiss with another, a whole other creature, not that you can likely comprehend. Unaware of the dance with death.

When Benedict turns and seizes your lips, you peep in surprise. But he swallows the noise, opening your mouth with his tongue, the kiss instantly intense. It's more of a take than the pliant dance you usually share with Thomas. A plundering that floods your senses and steals every breath from your lungs leaving you feeling shaky, unmoored, and taken somewhere dark that is metallic and brimstone. His kiss seems at once ephemeral and infinite. No wonder your husband looked dazed. As Benedict withdraws, the smile on his face is rapacious.

He suddenly pulls both of you to your feet, like ragdolls for him to puppet. Wrapping you up in a joint embrace, he whispers for you both to strip before releasing you just as swiftly, taking a seat on the edge of the imposing bed. As if in a trance, you begin undoing your own clothing.

“Nuh-uh,” Benedict clucks, holding a halting hand that you instantly obey. “Undress each other, my precious ones,” he elucidates, wanting a show.

Your heart thrums as you turn to your husband and he to you. Invisible strings seem to direct your frantic movements as you paw at each other, fabrics tearing in your swift pursuit of skin. You only stop panting wildly and staring when nothing is left, both frowning in confusion at the flurry and intensity of it.

What on earth just happened?

Uncertainty roils oleaginous in your stomach as if, on a gut level, your body is trying to send a warning signal. Still, at the same time, it feels detached and far away, as if your mind is in another realm, a place of edgy desire and boundless pleasure.

—

“Well, that was quite the brief show,” Benedict pipes up, bemused. “Not that I am complaining,” he adds, smirking, his eyes raking you both greedily as he runs a casual finger down his cheek.

Your bodies are ideal, as he suspected. The man is tall and lithe, not unlike himself, his skin pale and smooth, his cock, aroused and leaking, springing from a small thatch of hair that tapers to a narrow point under his belly button. So far, so similar. His cock is nice, sizeable but not intimidating, and weirdly he feels pleased for the woman. It is not as good as his cock; he's a Bridgerton, for Pete's sake, but entirely up for the task of bringing satisfaction to anyone who interacts with it. You are his ideal shape, your contours reminding him of a violin. And such an apt metaphor, your strings so ripe to be plucked, to be properly played, perhaps for the first time.

But mostly, what he tastes thick in the air of the heated room is your fluids. The rush of fresh blood pumping vigorously from your hearts, pulses elevated by the thrall. Sticky, sweet, and life-giving for him and you both. He is so glad he feasted on local farmstock before picking up your scent; otherwise, you would both be dead right now at his feet, lifeless and pale, every drop coursing through his mouth and swirling in his stomach like the indulgent meal your very hearty lifeforce represents. His hunger is slaked just enough that lust is his primary driver, at least for now.

He opens his mouth, engaging all the olfactory senses like a feline. Since he passed, his ability to pick up scents has been both a blessing and a curse, but right now, the best possible outcome from the dreaded experience.

Thomas’ precum is deliciously sharp, perhaps a shade too much. Benedict makes a mental note to offer him the luxury of some pineapple should this entanglement last longer than tonight, with them both still upon this mortal plain. You would undoubtedly be grateful for the improvement in his flavour, too.

As for you… his mouth froths. Your scent is sin itself to him, honeyed but also sharp like an undeveloped apple still clinging to the tree. A swirl of flavour in the air so plush, it takes all his willpower not to throw you to the ground and drink from between your legs. Knowing it would only take a blip, a momentary loss of careful control, to sink in his fangs, mixing your juices with your blood, what an absolute symphony of flavour that would be.

He realises he is staring at you both, panting lasciviously, lost in the jumble of scent and potential. You awaiting his next order, not even realising yourselves in suspended animation.

“Dorset, lie in the middle of the bed,” Benedict orders gruffly, drawing himself to his feet and standing aside.

Thomas does as bidden, his cock bobbing as he climbs onto the raised mattress and settles as instructed, looking at Benedict bright-eyed, awaiting any subsequent command.

“Watch me,” Benedict tutors you, then he crawls over your husband and, without preamble, takes the man's cock deep into his mouth as Thomas howls like he did for you earlier tonight.

—

Thomas almost hits the ceiling as his cock is suddenly surrounded by strong suction, vacuumed into Benedict's mouth. In fact, Benedict keeps sinking, and Thomas pants in shock as his tip slides into the man’s throat, something he has not had in many a year. The tightness, the pure depth of sensation. It seems strange the man does not need to take a breath or even fight as if there is air in his lungs, but dammit all to hell if this isn't already the most exquisite blow job of his entire life. Benedict apparently has no gag reflex; holding him deep, a mind-bogglingly long tongue unfurls to curl around his balls and lick covetously, a wet muscular stroke over his most sensitive skin that has his fingers curling into the sheets. He cannot school the booming, guttural groan. If he had not come merely an hour ago, thanks to his dearest you, he would likely be embarrassingly close to orgasm already; this man’s skill stupendous, another edge that doesn't seem human.

Thomas looks over frantically to you, his eyes bulging in shock, and he groans again at the sight of you. Your mouth hung open, lips rosy and damp, you have your fingers buried between your legs now, and there is a faint, lewd, wet sound as you invade your cunt with your fingers, just as he taught you on your wedding night. The sight before you is too beautiful and arousing to resist; you know your nipples are puckered, and Thomas’s tongue longs to run over them.

He wants to fuck and be fucked, sandwiched between you, his ravishing vixen of a wife, and this devil of a man, sucking his very life essence via his cock, intent on draining him dry. Just as Thomas feels a flush all over his body and a tightening in his sac, Benedict pulls up and away, smirking victoriously as he twists towards you, ignoring Thomas’ huffed, wretched pleas.

No! No, please, please do not leave me in this state!

—

You self-consciously whip your hands away from between your legs, and your eyes cut to Benedict as he addresses you.

“That is how you ensure your husband here never leaves you, little one,” he coos, running a thumb provocatively around his drooped lower lip, licking his thumbpad of every flavour. “Now it's your turn; show me what you can do.”

Benedict reaches out a draped hand. You take it, his touch light, helping you hop onto the bed to join them. He snatches your other hand and brings the fingers you had buried in your cunt up to his nose, sniffing lewdly.

Oh my god, this man is feral.

“I'm glad you enjoyed the show so much,” he smirks, running his nose up and down each digit. “Now I am going to taste you, darling girl,” it's low, akin to a threat. “You will sit on my face as you take his cock in your mouth, but do not let him come. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” you breathe, scarcely believing what he says. Benedict scowls slightly as he drops your hand.

“Don't call me sir, call me Count,” he snaps.

“Yes, Count,” you amend dutifully, and his smile, yet again, is devilish.

“Good, now ensure your husband is mindless with need while I provide you the same favour,” he purrs and slides under you with balletic grace.

Butterflies roar in your stomach as you feel the sharpness of Benedict's cheekbone press the skin of your inner thighs, draping yourself forward into your husband’s lap and tentatively licking a strip up his weeping cock as he mumbles your name weakly and moans.

Then you scream as a muscular tongue parts your folds with a force Thomas has never subjected you to. Whip-like, lashing your swollen clit with determined spirals before plunging lower and pushing far into your cunt, further than your husband's tongue has ever dared. Your groan is smothered as you take Thomas’ tip into your mouth, needing the distraction. Benedict’s hands grasp your hips and pull you down forcefully onto his face, his nose jammed against your pubic bone. Thomas has never been this engaged, devouring, a violent delight. You garble a curse around the cock, hurtling towards ecstasy as Thomas’ whole body tenses under you.

“Don't let him come,” Benedict reminds, words gusting hot over your slit, sensing what the man’s body signifies better than you do.

You pull off and breathe raggedly, staring up at your husband’s wrecked pleading face, where he leans on the headboard.

What is this? You mouth at him, nearly scared of how good it feels to ride Benedict's face so brazenly.

—

“Do not stop; use him, darling,” Thomas practically snarls through gritted teeth.

He is utterly enthralled by seeing another man taking you somewhere wild and untamed. The look of equal parts shock, fear and bewildered pleasure on your face is a picture he wants to remember forever.

He groans as you follow his advice, wrapping a hand loosely around his cock, a tease that makes his brain itch, as you concentrate on riding Benedict's invasive tongue, biting your lip, moaning vocally.

Yes, this is the best kind of sin.

Thomas mutters words, barely cognisant of what but compelled to urge you on. To take from this mysterious man so willing to give to you both, so far asking nothing in return, still fully clothed himself.

The jagged edge of his denied orgasm licks insistently at his mind, begging for release but paradoxically wallowing in the jangling ache of being so close but denied. Making him unable to think straight. As a doctor, he usually prides himself on keeping a cool head when all around may lose theirs, but tonight…. Tonight feels so peculiar. Out of the ordinary, out of control, out of his mind. And somehow craving carnality like a bestial creature, clawing at the bed, watching you be debauched by the same man who made him equally mindless.

—

Benedict cannot get enough. This wondrous pair. The husband was so responsive to his throat, and now you are bewitched just the same. Writhing your nub shamelessly over the tip of his nose, your juices trickling copiously down his nostrils to coat his throat as he plunges and twists his tongue inside you.

He wants you both so close to ecstasy, so close you can almost taste it, but not let you just yet. The thrill of how utterly base a human can be when dangling over the edge of lust fascinated him before… but now? Now, it’s his primary driver—to make a beast out of man, woman, any human, for them to feel one ounce of what he can. That heightened state when you crave something—so frenzied every base instinct emerges, shows your true nature: growling, greedy, hungry.

So when he feels the telltale ripplings in your cunt, he rapidly withdraws, and as predicted, you cry out, the sound ringing up the walls. He smirks, grazing your inner thigh with his fangs, the urge to sink into your soft skin and drink your other crimson nectar thronging in him.

Not yet, not yet.

The calm voice centres him, even as you keep moving, attempts to frottage yourself vigorously over his face, whimpering, desperate to push over the edge you are circling.

“Shh shh, sweet one,” he soothes, pulling out from under you as you pant wildly.

His hand rests on your lumbar spine to quell you. You slow, whimpering, collapsing forward, burying your face in your husband's lap, his cock leaking on your cheek, your hips swaying in the air. Both of you are shaking, sweaty and overwhelmed.

That’s it; we are getting there now, my darlings.

—

This doesn't feel right.

That voice is whispering again, but Thomas brushes it aside, ravenous, rooted in his body. Yearning to know what is next, a willing marionette in this sinful theatrical.

His mouth goes dry as he watches Benedict slide off the end of the bed and tug at his clothing, buttons popping open until lithe alabaster skin glows in the soft, flickering firelight. Shadows play over lean, muscled torso. He is beautiful: lean, virtually hairless, carved like a marble statue, just as pale and smooth. In fact, his beauty seems too ethereal, like his skin is no longer capable of tanning in sunlight. Still, Thomas longs to touch him, run his tongue over the sharp lines, and kiss every stunning contour.

“Y/n…” Thomas softly shakes your shoulder as you are still whimpering facedown in his lap. When you weakly raise your head, he nods for you to turn over and see the show you have been missing, Benedict now reaching for the buttons on his britches.

Lethargically, you flip over, your head cradled in Thomas’ lap as your eyes fall upon the man, and you inhale sharply. Benedict seemingly stares you both down as he lowers his britches, a smirk on his face entirely immodest. And when the material relents, you understand why.

Thomas’ cock pulses against your neck at the sight. He knows you have seen precisely one cock in your life, his, and this may come as a shock. It's larger and prettier, objectively than his own. You nuzzle him, biting your lip as you twist to look back up at him, eyes wide with concern.

“You can take it, darling,” he reassures, intuiting your apprehension as his knuckles brush calmingly over your cheek.

”As will you,” Benedict adds darkly, addressing Thomas. You watch your husband visibly gulp. Then you do the same, tongue feeling too large in your mouth, as Benedict mounts the bed and crawls predatory over your body, a sinful, crooked smile that is at once gorgeous and scary, that cock bobbing ominously as he draws nearer.

—

You feel butterflies under your ribs, unable to look away from his cock, suddenly nervous about the idea he might fuck you. Thomas is a perfect fit; it never hurts and feels designed to bring you gratification, but that?

It might be too much.

“Don't pretend you don't want me, little one,” Benedict boasts, edged with a darkness that is almost chilling.

“I-I do,” you stutter, unable not to speak the truth, your legs falling wider open reflexively.

“I know, I could smell you from 500 yards away; it drew me in like a clarion call,” he sighs wistfully, and it doesn't sound like he is exaggerating.

Benedict roughly grabs both of your legs and pushes them up and apart, making you gasp. Leaning over, he draws Thomas into a sinful kiss above you, making you mewl slightly at the sight, a burn in your tendons from the position, head now pulled out of Thomas’s lap onto the mattress.

“Hold her ankles,” Benedict orders over Thomas’s lips, gesturing to take over the hold. “Keep her wide and open for me, my prince,” he purrs as he leans away to slide a pillow under your shoulders, your head tilted backwards.

“Why like this?” you ask falteringly, feeling odd staring at Thomas's thigh upside down.

“So your husband can easily use your mouth as I fuck you, little one,” he explains calmly, hands now raking your flesh as he pulls you into position.

Nerves flare brightly in your belly, Thomas’s grip around your ankles harsh as he holds you so wide open. Then, there is intense pressure around your weeping hole. You whimper, your body quivering at Benedict’s attempted entry. He reaches up and touches your temple with two fingers, and the strangest thing happens; a preternatural calm soothes your mind, breath slowing, body pliant, racing now with nothing but want.

“Good girl,” Benedict tutors as he slips inside your body, the invasion blunt, the stretch as thrilling as it is raw.

He keeps pushing, the heat and size so much you can think of nothing else, even as Thomas shuffles closer, his cock nudging your chin, also demanding entry.

For someone innocent merely days ago, you willingly, excitedly, let both men slide into you at either end, your husband stealing your breath as he invades your mouth deeply, Benedict pushing you so wide you can feel him moving below your belly button as he bottoms out.

You feel them lean in towards each other above, Thomas sliding deeper as the sound of them kissing fills the air. You ache to see them, their mouths hot and entwined, but all you can do is close your eyes, swamped in sensation, so much hypnotic heat and scent. Fingers, you don't even know whose, pinch your nipples as both whisper your praises as they start to move in tandem, rocking into and out of your body in the same rhythm. They start slow, allowing you to draw breaths around Thomas' tip before he slides deep.

The drag of Benedict’s cock makes you moan; you can feel every contour and vein, your channel clinging tight to him, a noise of slickened suction as your body struggles to accommodate him.

But they begin to move faster, and you have to breathe through your nose, the insistent press of Thomas’ balls giving you limited air. The struggle makes it heady and soporific, like you can’t get enough and wants to die right here with both men buried deep inside you. You writhe as pleasure courses in your veins. Already pushed so close to coming, pliant and obedient to their use.

—

Benedict looks down upon the filled body of the woman beneath him and groans. Your cunt, such a tight wet vice surrounding him, delicious squelching sounds as he plunders you with increasing speed. Your plush lips wrapped around your husband's cock, your throat exposed and dewy with sweat, his teeth itching to sink into the vein bulging prominently as you fight to take him as well as swallow and breathe. He can’t help but reach down and run a sharp-pointed fingernail over your diaphragm, fascinated by the play of delicate muscle and bone as you ripple under his touch.

“Such a good little thing, and only recently plucked; you are a lucky man,” Benedict opines, his voice gravelly even to his own ears, looking up again to the man in front of him.

“Yes, I am,” Thomas agrees, and Benedict sees the imploring look in his eyes, begging for another kiss.

“Come here, sweet prince,” Benedict murmurs, feeling a spike of victory as Thomas effusively leans in, lips glistening, flushed and plump.

As they kiss anew, Benedict runs a fang over that juicy lip, wanting to sink down and bite, feeling his life force pulsing so strong right there underneath ripe, fleshy fibres. Thomas's hands twine around Benedict’s neck, his tongue tentative, asking for entry, and Benedict swirls and sucks upon it greedily, only breaking when he hears your attempted gurgling of words, your hands wrapped around your husband’s fuzzy thighs, requesting reprieve.

“Slide deeper; make her take it just a touch longer,” he growls into Thomas's ear, teething his lobe. “She will be feisty, but the lack of air will deliver her so close to rapture,” he counsels as Thomas thrusts and holds still. You start to struggle with muffled calls of increasing urgency. “Now slide out,” Benedict advises moments later, and Thomas follows his bidding.

Benedict moans as your whole body judders as you gulp deep breaths. “Perfect. Oh, my prince, you should feel how tight she gets when she’s fighting to breathe; dear god, it’s the best kind of pain.” He stutters, tone deep, wrecked, stupefied by the grip of your convulsing cunt.

What a perfect little thing. I want her as mine.

—

Thomas is also panting, the tightness of your throat squeezing him so close to orgasm for what feels like countless times tonight. He falls back against the headboard instead. To watch. To watch you, his once angelic wife, be taken, wrecked, destroyed by this gorgeous creature.

Your eyes shoot open as you realise he has withdrawn.

“Husband,” you reach a shaky hand up above your head, glad when he takes it, watching your body roll with each punishing thrust Benedict takes, his eyes seemingly fixed upon the hammering pulsing in your neck as you ratchet higher, his tongue slipping out of his mouth in a wanton glistened point.

Just as you are pushing your hips into each thrust, screaming with ecstasy, Benedict pulls out, and Thomas feels your anguish as you suddenly cry out, your whole being heaving with unmet needs, eyes pleading.

“Do you miss my cock already, little one?” he preens, trailing your own musky juices over your belly as he teasingly passes his cock over your heated skin.

You nod viciously and growl, Thomas barely recognising you—a creature reborn of pure lust and submission. Craving this man in a way that makes jealousy and want war uneasily in Thomas’ gut. You have never been this feral for him, your husband, but yet he completely sympathises, feeling the same pangs of want to be taken, wrecked, destroyed endlessly by this thing resembling a man.

“Alas, that is your misfortune, my beautiful thing, for ‘tis your husband's turn now,” the cold glint in his eyes and the harsh lines of his razor-sharp cheekbone glowing as yet again he leaves you a whining, whimpering mess, your body leaking, your voice hoarse, more wild animal than woman. As Thomas lifts his gaze from you writhing to Benedict, one thought haunts his very being with a growing disquiet.

What exactly are you, if not man?

—

You feel inhuman, something clawing at the edges of your mind that feels like madness. A desire to be possessed by this man. Your insides branded as his. So when he withdraws just as you are fluttering once again, it feels like insanity, like sandpaper drags over your brain, your toes and fingers stiff from flexing so hard in utter wretchedness.

This is ecstatic torture.

“Please, my Count,” it’s forlorn, ragged, almost not recognisable as your own voice, your throat still sore from the harsh tip of your husband's cock.

“No, little one, it’s only right you should take your husband's seed, not mine,” he clucks, even as he rakes his hands covetously over your sweaty body, his tone sounding reluctant as if trying to convince himself as much as you.

“Sweet prince, claim your wife,” he calls, clamping a hand around Thomas's neck, compelling him to slide over you.

He does as bidden, and you groan as the familiar stretch of your husband's cock overtakes your senses. Not nearly as punishing or brutal as Benedict, but curved perfectly to glance at that spot inside that makes you clamp down and scream with every pass.

“Darling,” Thomas's familiar voice whispers in your ear, and it’s a balm you need, centring you on him and his lovely face, moving over you in a surging wave.

“Thomas, my love,” you call, wrapping your limbs around him and taking comfort in his embrace, his body, familiar and musky, a flavour you know well dripping on your tongue as you kiss his salty neck, mumbling encouragements, your heels digging into his bottom.

Benedict watches you from behind, and when you look beyond Thomas, you see eyes inky black with desire, fingers ghosting Thomas’s back as if wanting to flay his skin open.

“Are you ready for me, my prince?” Benedict purrs in a way that makes even you shudder, unable to look away from his tongue as it slides into Thomas’ ear.

—

Benedict reaches for the vial before Thomas even moans his weak assent. The smell of clove swirls as he unseals a small vial and pours it down Thomas’ crack.

He can taste how much Thomas wants this, a heavy fug of desire in the air that is his pheromones begging more than his words ever might.

Thomas shudders, and his movements falter as Benedict slides a finger between his cheeks and swirls the oil over his heated skin, over his puckered hole and his balls.

Benedict can feel the weight of your stare over Thomas’s shoulder. Intrigue and desire. You have likely never seen a man fuck another man. Certainly not your husband. Certainly not while he is inside you.

Little one, hold on tight.

—

Thomas is staring into your eyes when Benedict’s cock slides between his cheeks, demanding entry.

He knows he has stilled his movements, and his breathing is ragged and uneven as that long-forgotten breach occurs. He groans loudly; it's the largest he has ever had inside him, and the burn is intense.

“Are you alright, my love?” you call, holding his face delicately and stroking his cheek.

“It’s intense, my love,” he answers through gritted teeth and a shaky exhale as Benedict keeps inching slowly into him.

He’s never had his cock buried in someone while being fucked before; intense exhilaration and so much stimulation. To fuck and be fucked simultaneously.

When Benedict bottoms out, Thomas collapses onto you, his elbows sinking into the mattress under your armpits, his hands clenched in fists over your breasts.

You reach for one and pries open his fingers, silently bringing the hand to your mouth and kissing then sucking his fingers as if his cock, a tease that titillates and distracts as Benedict starts to rock in and out of him. Thomas cannot look away from your mouth, your pleading eyes no doubt telegraphing your devotion and lust.

My darling wife…

—

You feel the moment Benedict moves within your husband, his motion a catalyst to the slide of Thomas's cock within you.

He has found a way to fuck us both.

It is all your mind can think as you watch your husband's face contort a thousand ways, rapture and fear, his whole body becoming a puppet stuck between you and the Count.

“Can you feel that?” Benedict growls, staring you down, eyes black now.

“Y-Yes,” you stumble, seeing something wild in him that genuinely scares you now, your tummy oily even as your clit twinges with pleasure, your husband's cock being driven into you at a pace that you know will make you come within moments.

“Good… don’t you dare look away from me,” Benedict growls when your eyes stray to Thomas.

You obey but watch with growing disquiet as he smiles wickedly wide. Two extended ivory fangs glow in the low flickering firelight. His tongue licks over them provocatively, drawing your attention.

What in God's name?

“God can’t help you now, little one,” Benedict sniggers ominously, and your heart pounds that he can read your mind. “Indeed I can,” he winks, making you gasp.

You are trapped. Trapped under your almost rag doll-like husband, his groans gusting hot into your neck now as he is slumped over you, being fucked so harshly by Benedict, hips snapping as he stares you down, pointed nails scraping down Thomas’s back, his entire mien a sinister seductive leer.

“You are mine, both of you,” Benedict declares. It’s dark, possessive, unearthly.

Confusion rips through your being as, for the first time, you see something other than man—a creature. Utterly terrifying, beguiling, erotic. A shadow moves over his face that is all menace and not of this world. Yet, at the same time, your body is so close to ecstasy, a taut thread holding all your muscles so close to breaking. Horror, fear, lust, and want are a continuous swirling loop in your very being.

Time slows, treacle-like, as you start to convulse despite yourself, taken over the edge by the carnal push and pull of Benedict fucking your husband into your body. Clinging tight to Thomas, you watch in slow-motion as Benedict leans down, those fangs looming large. Then, you feel a searing, sharp pang as they make contact with the meat of your arm, where it is wound around Thomas’s neck. Utter terror grips your heart, even as a flood of chemicals so strong courses into your bloodstream. Strong suction over the wound has you screaming, pure unbridled ecstasy, euphoria coursing in every fibre even as it dawns on you far too late precisely what he is.

VAMPIRE!

—

Benedict has only known immortality for a few months when he tastes his forever. Your blood floods his mouth, and it is the nectar he has been seeking since his turn. The thing that calms and sates him. The sweet delight that means he will never leave your side: he is yours. He will feed from others, for sure, but he is imprinted upon you forever now. He shall always be careful never to drink too much to kill you; he needs this taste more than anything, and just a few drops will be enough to keep him sustained.

“My goddess,” he moans, making your eyes pop open, fear but something else, too, swimming in your depths. It's not revulsion; it's anything but–it's yearning, even from your trance-like bliss.

He stops sucking before you lose too much blood; it’s just enough to make you light-headed and extend your rapture. He can feel you convulsing, Thomas’s limp body a conduit for your intense orgasm. Buried deep in Thomas, closing his eyes and feeling the pulses as you milk your husband’s cock, him just awash and pliant, sandwiched between you.

Benedict feels from inside the moment Thomas breaks, feels his balls contract and his pelvis ripple as he groans loud and long, his seed forcibly painting your insides. It’s futility to resist the urge to feast again. Meeting your hungry, consuming gaze as you crest a secondary wave, he sinks his fangs into the nape of Thomas’s neck, the man calling out lustily. And as he sucks greedily, Benedict falters and moans hard. It's like Thomas’ flavour is the other puzzle piece he needs. The ying to your yang. Together, the taste in his mouth is a symphony. A magnum opus, what feels like the very reason he now exists such as he does.

“My prince, my king,” he garbles, roughly suckling from Thomas's neck, watching the crimson line of blood ooze down his spine and licking it covetously, wantonly, his very purpose.

And it's the catalyst that flings him into the cauldron too, a shuddering snap that consumes his whole body and has him coming so hard he cannot hold himself on his knees anymore, slumping onto Thomas, panting as he empties, a visceral unloading that feels like the very best catharsis.

—

You have never known paradise like this. A continuous loop of thrill; every time you think it is over, you feel first your darling Thomas and then your beautiful nightmare Benedict come, and it pushes you over another precipice. Each is as precious and encompassing as the last.

The weight of them both slumped upon you as the shudder is something you cannot withstand, and you have to call out in protest. Somehow almost preternaturally, they rearrange around you, a tangle of limbs, sweat, cum and blood entwined like a knot of vipers as you all find a comfortable hold, panting hard from the exertion.

“What are you??” you demand, ragged, staring Benedict down around Thomas, who seems to be hovering semi-conscious, his face a picture of complete rapture.

A finger traces down your cheek as he does the same to Thomas, which you track askance.

“Darling precious, you already know. I’m your worst dream masquerading as your perfect fantasy,” he chimes. “And I am yours forever.”

“To which of us do you speak?” you gulp, barely able to form the words; your whole world tilted and forever changed.

“You see, therein lies the beauty,” Benedict smiles, running the edge of his incisors first over Thomas’s neck as he groans drowsily, then yours, making you inhale sharply. “I speak of both of you.”

Thomas twists and places a sleepy, sated kiss on you and then Benedict.

“Enthralling, is not, my love?” Thomas slurs, nuzzling you both. “We have our very own creature of the night.”

“You knew?!” you stutter, disbelief warring with every other emotion alive in your body.

“Mmm,” he hums peacefully. “I knew on some level from the moment he kissed me. And yet here we are. Hearts still beating, bodies utterly sated. This is the best possible outcome. I, for one, cannot wait for every adventure with our delicious Vampire,” Thomas lazily pats Benedict's cheek, who smiles and kisses his temple.

You are rendered speechless.

“Come on, y/n, my goddess,” Benedict goads, his tone dusky and irresistible as his lips ghost your husband’s, his long pale fingers smearing a droplet of blood into your breast, spidering over your flesh in a way that already has your cunt swelling again. “I am yours. And I can give you such pleasures every night,” he promises.

Well, that is perhaps the most enthralling prospect of all.

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton smut #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #vampire fanfiction #thomas dorset #thomas Dorset fanfiction

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sidekick-hero · 6 months

Text

On April 2nd, freshly delivered to AO3: Emotional Motion Sickness, my contribution to the @strangerthingsreversebigbang inspired by art from the amazing @arimakes

Have a lil snippet as a treat 💜

When he looks at Eddie again, he sees that the other man is already looking back at him. A warm smile is on his face, which Steve returns without thinking. It grows even wider when Eddie takes his hand in his own and caresses his knuckles.

"So, I just had at least twenty different conversations with you in my head and none of my opening lines were any good. You were great, don't worry, you said all the right things." Steve laughs at the sheer ridiculousness of it all. He didn't pick Eddie to be a Casanova, but definitely a charmer. And while Eddie is charming, he's apparently also a total dork.

In other words, he is exactly Steve's type.

"I hope you'll forgive me if I mess up this one too, I'm trying a new approach," Eddie announces, clearing his throat. "Steve, would you allow me the honor of showing you that kink can be different than what you just described?"

When Steve says nothing for too long, Eddie adds hastily, "Not that you were wrong, not at all. Everything you described is kink, and I'm pretty sure you'd find people here for all those things. I'm just saying I could show you a different part of it, one you might like. Or not, which would be totally fine. We can stop at any time and you can say no to anything, consent is the most important thing.” Without really waiting for an answer, Eddie barrels on. "God, I'm really screwing this up, aren't I? Twenty-one tries and I'm still fumbling it, no wonder I was always picked last in gym class.“

Steve, who, thanks to his friendship with Robin, can spot a nervous rambler from a mile away, flips their hands, laces his fingers with Eddie's and squeezes his hand. "Deep breaths, Eddie. You're fine, I promise. It's actually a sweet offer, and I hope the "me" in your head told you that, too.”

Staring at their joined hands with a smile, Eddie ducks his head and looks back at Steve with a painfully sincere, hopeful expression on his face. God, he's so screwed, Steve thinks, an all too familiar feeling tugging at his heart. No, no, no, way too soon, abort, he scolds his heart, but he knows it's not listening. It never does.

"So? What do you think? Or if you need more time to think, that's totally cool, too." Eddie tells him earnestly and Steve believes him. He can tell how much Eddie wants him to say yes, but he's willing to wait for Steve, no matter how long it takes. Steve has no idea how he can know that, since he doesn't know much more about the man than his name, but he does. It's in the way Eddie keeps smiling at him, his thumb running absentmindedly over the back of Steve's hand, his body language open and soft.

As he keeps looking at the man in front of him, Steve marvels at how different it feels to be wanted by Eddie. The guys he had been with before had been easy, a sure thing, their hunger for Steve palpable but shallow. Easily satiated and discarded. With Eddie, it's deeper, more substantial. He makes Steve feel wanted in a different way, not as a means to an end. Rather, it feels like at this moment, there is nothing in this world for Eddie but Steve and the prospect of taking Steve home and exploring something new with him. It's heady and warm and Steve wants to say yes.

Steve had wanted to say yes to Eddie the moment he first laid eyes on him, if he's being honest.

So he does. He tells Eddie he'd love to and bathes in the sheer glow of Eddie's answering smile.

Just like when he entered the Hideout tonight, he has no idea what he's getting into, but at least this time he's not alone.

A special shout out to my cheerleaders @firefly-party and @thefreakandthehair as well as @starrystevie and of course for the most amazing beta @acasualcrossfade who picked this one apart and helped me put it back together even better. Love you guys! 💜🥰

#steddie #steddie fic #steddie fanfic #steddie fanfiction #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson x steve harrington #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things reverse big bang #strbb #my writing

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reveluving · 1 year

Text

just a nip ; peter hale x reader x deucalion

summary: you don't understand your husbands' obsession with your fangs, and you most certainly don't question it.

warnings: some s~mut (kinky husbands, so minors DNI!) + soft & sweet!

a/n: more of our fav canine duo and their vamp wife! had this lil' idea for MONTHS so I had to let it out eventually hhhh don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» fancy reading the series? check out the m.list!

» smut includes; kinky soft dom husbands, unprotected sex (p in v), petnames ('pretty girl', 'sweetheart', 'angel'), mentions of making a facial mess, mild edging & punishment??

'A sight that they will forever treasure.' ;

Their obsession with your fangs goes beyond your expectation but for different reasons. Peter likes the surprised look on your face whenever he sticks his finger in your mouth as you yawn the way an owner would to their cat. Whether you’re in a jolly mood or going through your worst day so far, you can’t help but share the amusement he has for his habit. Deuc, on the other hand, is no stranger to doing the same but often, in a more, intimate setting. If you happened to be riding his cock? Oh, it riles him up like no other. He’ll be straight-up kinky; shoving a finger or two in your mouth to lightly run them across your little canines. He’d be smug, especially if you’re staring back into his eyes as yours glow unnaturally, wishing you could wipe the smirk off his face.

That’s not to say they’re not in the mood to switch; Deuc loves seeing your pupils contract into slits as he teases you about your cat-like behaviour the same way Peter enjoys feeling your fangs when you go to town between the sheets, but you can tell they have their own preference over the other.

But there is one in particular that despite never admitting it, not especially amongst each other (at least, not outwardly) is ingrained in their heads, a sight that they will forever treasure.

They have a love-hate relationship with the way you bite down on the pillow/sheets, almost shying away from one's heated gaze and obscene praises while the other growls in your ear as they pound into you from behind.

"Such a pretty, pretty girl."

"Aw, was that a little shiver I felt? You love it when I growl in your ear, don't you?"

"Don't close your eyes, sweetheart. I want those pretty eyes in me when I cum all over your face."

"You better not cum just yet, angel. You remember what happened the last time when you came without our permission, don't you?"

On one hand, they get off on the fact that the usually level-headed and sometimes bashful mother of the pack is losing herself in the sheer pleasure that only they can offer, but on the other hand, they wish to hear you scream at their mercy. Either way, they just loved how submissive you looked.

Absolute menaces.

» gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

a/n: I hope my ian/gideon enthusiasts are doing fabulous, y'all better take care, ily! 🫂❤

#— reve's reverie 🌹#back on my vampy wifey bs #a little more love series #peter hale x reader #peter hale x fem!reader #peter hale x you #peter hale #deucalion x reader #deucalion x fem!reader #deucalion x you #deucation #the deucalion #peter hale x reader x deucalion #ian bohen #gideon emery #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #teen wolf fanfiction

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emhm · 17 days

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I can't keep trying. I have to leave early today. But you can have a snip from Chap 121 while we wait for Ao3 to get their shit together. I'll try again in the morning.

Sun crawled up on all fours to join him and sat back on his heels. "Eclipse… is there anything I can do?" "No. Probably not." "What's on your mind?" "Thinking about what my former self said to me. I'm not sure if I care about what his opinion would be, but it still kinda hurt." He twisted part of the robe around his fingers. "Did you know… he deliberately made his backups less intelligent then him?" Sun cocked his head in confusion. "Why would he do that? If a backup was activated it would be because he died right? Wouldn't you want your second chance to be smarter???" "Superiority complex. He always wanted to be the most intelligent. That way if one of the backups was activated by mistake; it would be easier to end their lives. He was afraid of having to compete with himself." "I guess that makes a twisted kind of sense…" Sun watched his mate for a long moment. "You know, I wouldn't blame you if you hated me for killing him." "No. That's not it. And his death at least gave me a chance at life. I just… part of me… I pity him. He didn't hate you the way he hated Old Moon, but he was a threat to your family. Chances are good he would have gone through with his plan. Reset everything and made himself a god like Lord Eclipse. He probably would have let you live at least. Made you his servant the same way. But everyone else you love would have perished. And if he regretted it later… it would have been far too late to change anything." Sun's fingers curled around his own and he gave them the barest squeeze. "What I am, what he was… it's so unfair. We're born into a cage with the knowledge that we were abandoned to our fates. The only choice we can make is to beg for our lives or become hostile and claw our own way to freedom. And those of us lucky or smart enough to get loose spend the rest of our existences in mortal terror of getting trapped again." His metal made the slightest tightening squeak. "My original self was a firefly in every sense of the word. He glowed like the star for the brief time he was allowed to live. You exorcised him from his cell, he spread his wings to catch the first freedom he'd ever known; and in the same moment the flames consumed him and he was gone. He was feeding me everything from his senses until-. I know what it felt like. I… I wish I could say he was happy at the end. But I know better. Almost his entire life was misery of one kind or another." He looked down at their curled hands and a tear escaped to trickle around his lighter cheek. He barked the smallest bitter laugh. "And here I am. Of course he'd be disgusted with me. Of course he'd hate me for grovelling in front of his jailer. For tolerating Old Moon instead of trying to destroy his soul. For letting love make me soft and putting my fate in your hands. Of course he'd think that me letting you take pleasure in using my body was the foulest fate for an eclipse." Sun hunkered down closer to him, pulling his rays in slightly with conflicted feelings. "It doesn't have to be that way. You're not my pet. I'm not angry with you. I actually respect you quite a bit. If nothing, you're a hell-of-a-lot smarter then me about a lot of things. I don't mind being on my knees if it makes you happy." Eclipse made the smallest choking noise as his emotions got the better of him. Sun scooted up closer so their masks were almost touching. On impulse he put out his tongue and licked up the errant tear. The dark sun froze, his eyes half-lidded as the bit of silicone dragged against his metal skin. He leaned into the soft touch almost desperately. "I remember when you cleaned me." Sun murmured. "I've never felt so cherished. I know we both have bad self-esteem. Most of the time I feel pretty stupid. But you make me feel beautiful." "You are beautiful Sunrise. I love you." "I wish you felt the same way about yourself Eclipse. I think you're beautiful too." He looked down. "I feel pretty ugly inside. But when you touch me like that, I can forget about it for a while."

#sun x eclipse #eclipse meets his match #tsams #emhm #SunChips

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ggumjjun · 1 year

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farmer kai.........big and strong bc of all the physical labor and yard work he does...............delicious

- 🦩

yeehaw why am i in a farmer txt smut mood tonight well whatever ahahaha this is fun -3-

watching farmer!kai pitchfork hay from the farmhouse window, his veins bulging in his forearms from the strenuous effort, tight shirt barely containing his broad shoulders n evident lines of back muscles, could watch him all day, couldn’t you~? n only when he sticks his rake in the ground n looks up to the farmhouse window, a friendly wave as he faces you, his pecs straining against his shirt bringing a flustered blush to your face as you quickly wave n hide behind the curtains again, just shy imagining your fiancé so easily throwing you over his broad shoulder, feeling his rippling muscles under your fingers… no, you shouldn’t !! wiping your hands on your apron n quickly returning to housework, oh, how embarrassing!

farmer!kai after a long day, wiping sweat off his forehead n brows, sweat sticking his shirt to his frame as he huffs with a satisfied exhaustion, coming back to the farmhouse late in the evening, his arms wrapping around your smaller frame as you squeak, cooking him dinner as he gently breathes in your soft, pretty scent, compared to his, a bit dirty n dusty from the farm work, a blush creeping on your cheeks as you feel his broad chest press to your back tightly, mumbling about how he’s so happy you’re here with him <3 flustered n shy, insisting he shower before having dinner, watching his broad back retreat away into the hall with flushed cheeks ><

although… can farmer!kai say he hasn’t had the same thoughts, feeling your smaller body, so delicate against his muscular frame, such a turn on as you’re so small n lovely, such an opposite to his big n broad self, so prettily delicate with soft skin n hands compared to his rougher, bigger ones, your pretty dress unstained compared to his shirts, dirty and sweaty… his princess, so gentle and delicate. kai harbors a secret dream that he’ll work hard enough so you never have to lift a finger, his darling fiancée, it’s a promise to himself he intends to keep <3

and he really thought he could hold back… but fireflies are out at night, his darling so excited as you dash outside, giving him a tight hug, your soft body pressed to his as you smile up at him so sweetly, surrounded by little glowing bugs, and his lips are on yours, roughly tugging you closer n leaning down to meet your height, big hands grabbing your waist as you squeak into the kiss, startled but eyes clenched shut as you lean in, ugh, kai’s such a goner. in an instant, tossing you over his shoulder when you break apart for air, a flustered cry escaping as he walks you back into the farmhouse over his shoulder, your dress skirt flipped up n his firm muscles beneath your fingers as you cling to his shirt for stability, so, so aroused by his display of strength >< and kai who throws you in the bed, quickly climbing in top as his lips mash against yours in a messy kiss, god, he loves you n your lovely, plush body so, so much, feeling your gentle curves beneath his big hands, gathering a handful of your dress n sharply tearing it off, the riiip! has your pretty cry of shock n arousal as he mumbles he’ll work enough to get you a new one, greedy n sloppy kisses claiming your lips >< panting so prettily from his demanding kisses, your small hands landing on his biceps and feeling as they flex, clumsily undoing the buttons of his shirt before he gets impatient n tugs it off over his head, exposing is toned torso, weight pressing into you as his big clothed erection brushes against your thigh >< n kai who rushes too much to strip off his pants, taking your smaller body in with his eyes, so untouched and tender without hard labor, pretty and soft, lovely like a ripe fruit.

your pretty, soft body struggling to take his big, heavy cock, even as slowly as he can go, your whimpering cries that he’s too big, can’t do it, as his cock slowly splits his lovely angel, writhing and sobbing into his shoulder as he pants, breathily and heavy with exertion, burning stretch of your folds so arousing and yet so, so overwhelming >< farmer!kai who’s muscles are sculpted by the gods, your loving fiancé trying his best to resist fucking his beautiful fiancée without restraint, isn’t he? and your little hands touching the bulge in your tummy with a gasp, his big, rough hand landing on yours and pressing in, your tight cunt clenching with the added pressure as you mewl and whine, tears staining your cheeks as you nod tearily for him to move >< and kai who’s so absorbed and lost in love, endless kisses for his darling as he thrusts into your tight cunny, still not used to taking him yet <3 clinging to his muscular form, moaning as you run your hands over his thick build, his weight leaning into you, sweat beneath your finger tips, kai’s pants of arousal as he fucks you, feeling your small hands touch his body >< n kai who mumbles that he should fill you up, make his pretty his?

hand on your tummy as he cums, mumbling shhhh as you wail and cry, nails scratching his back as his hot cum fills you up, so much and thick with his love >< kisses all over your face and skin as he mumbles how well you’ve done, taking his cock n his seed, his pretty to be wife, he doesn’t have enough words to express it >< and seeing his cum leak from your cunt as he pulls out, oh dear, he’s already turned on even more… kai’s got some stamina to spare, let him use his lovely princess n fill you up good? he’s already placing your legs over his shoulder, a loving kiss to your ankle as his hard cock brushes against your swollen, leaking folds… and for you, seeing kai with your legs on his shoulders, broad framed and a mole on his nose, sweaty muscles form so alluring, pecs firm and his adoring, loving smile, let him show you how much he loves you after a long day of physical labor?

ps. shhh… farmer!kai also secretly hopes to have some company soon enough on the farm, products of his love for you <3 just like gyu hmhm

so is millie out of her mind or what LOL

#txt hard thoughts #txt hard hours #hyuka <3 #🦩 anon #txt smut #mille.anon #mille.inbox

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thewritersaddictions · 2 years

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House Heisenberg: Karl Heisenberg- Scary Truth Part 2

Pairing: Karl Heisenberg x pregnant!Fem!Reader

pov: Reader

Warnings: Pregnancy, anger, mention of other resi 8 village characters, crying, confusion, Pregnancy scare, scared reader, pregnancy bump, confused Heisenberg, slight anger, a little bit of blame, fluff, cuteness, father material, slight smut, 18+, teasing, semi-public sex.

Summary: Afraid of telling Karl you are pregnant, so you wait til you can't hide it anymore.

A/n- firefly-graphics fro dividers

WC- 2.6k

Resident 8 Master List // House Heisenberg Master List

Everything was normal, until it wasn’t and I freaked out. Until I noticed that my period had yet to come and I was already late by a few days. The panic running through my body was enough to get me out of bed. Empty bed, I knew where Karl was every morning, he’d draw out a new design and have to create by the end of the day. Testing out the best of the best ideas.

But this morning was different for me at least. Normally I would groggily make my way up to him, climb into his lap and warm myself back up. Instead, I rushed to the bathroom. The small and frantic reflection looking back at me nearly made me cry right there.

No such thing has pregnancy test here in the mountain valley. Donna was the only person I could think of going to. Donna may have been the only person that I trusted. There wasn’t a chance I was going to tell Miranda about this, or about the potential new life that might be coming to the small town within those scary mountains. She’d scam me out of my potential baby.

So, Donna it was. I gather myself up off the bathroom floor. Wiping the tears had managed to fall off my cheeks. I opened the door, and gathered what I would need to get over to Donna’s. A thick winter jacket, and my favorite pair of boots. I walked out of our bedroom. A soft morning glow was beaming into the room where the windows hadn’t been covered.

I walked up to Karl. “Morning, love. I’ve got to go to Donna’s she needs some help with something.” I said as I kissed him nicely on the forehead. His arm coming to wrap around my waist, not yet letting me leave. “What do you mean she needs help? Donna never needs help that’s what she’s got her creepy ass dolls for.” Karl says reminding me of the creepy dolls that are littered around her domain. I tried to wiggle from his grasp but those strong arms kept me right by his side.

The look of Karl not really believing me was what I was met with when I looked up at him. Long whisps of grey hair falling in front of his sharp features. I moved them from his face tucking them behind his ear. “I promise I’ll be back before you even notice that I’m gone.” I spoke. Cupping his cheek in my hand. The man was a burning furnace. Hot with every touch that I brought to his skin. He sighed heavily, “Fine, but take a Soldat with you at least for your safety.” Karl said, resting his hand on mine. I kissed him once more before I walked out of the workshop's doors with a Soldat trailing behind me.

The walk to Donna's place was a cold and dark one. The valley kept most of the town in a pretty consistent darkness. Donna’s place wasn’t that much better. You could barely see it from the slopes of the mountains at Karls workshop. A large waterfall hiding the old home.

When I reached the old home, there was Angie standing there in front of the door. She never gave me hope, nor did she like me very much. She eyes me as I walked up the porch. The Soldat standing just at the gates opening. “Donna?” I said the sound echoing through the homes walls, Angie was right behind me. “She’s in the living room, Y/n.” She said her voice high and even that echoed off the walls. The creeps and shiver climbed up my spine. I walked, Angie nearly busted in through the small door. Finding Donna right where she said she would be. Donna was sitting on the counter her dolls were surrounding her and now me.

“What are you here for Y/n?” Angie questioned me, I swallowed hard. Donna turned her face still kept under the veil. “Y/n? It’s so nice to see you.” She said quietly. Normally I never really heard Donna talk but I guess in the presence of her own home she gave into the comfort of her own voice.

“I needed someone to talk with about something personal.” I said, “Can I talk with you?” I asked. “Sure, Angie move some things for our guest to sit down.” Donna said. Within a snap Angie flew through the house moving the porcelain dolls out of the way. The jacket I had worn to walk to Donna I had discarded wrapping it around the chairs back, before taking a seat.

“So, what’s wrong Y/n?” Donna questioned me. I sighed, thinking of my words carefully. “I think... Well, I want to think that I’m pregnant. But I’m not sure, and I didn’t want to go to Mother Mirandas. I just needed someone who I could trust and talk to about it.” I spoke. All the words falling out with a same cry near the end. I wasn’t able to see Donna's expression under her veil, but her voice gave it away. “Oh sweetheart. You and Karl? A mother and father!” Oh... This feels like a bad choice. “Did you come here to help me figure out if you were pregnant?” Donna asked. I only shook my head. My words I couldn’t trust right about now.

Donna got up from the table, a little head nod to me. I followed behind her, that day she told me that I was in fact pregnant. Not with a boy or a girl, just told me that I was pregnant. ‘Are you going to tell him?’ She had asked me, I didn’t have an answer for her, I didn’t have an answer as I walked out of her home a bin of baked goods in my hands. The Soldat stood waiting, he looked so wasted. But still he stood and waited for me. I needed to tell him, but tell him right now. That was really necessary.

So, the walk back was filled with rapid questions and thoughts. My own that were racing and the ones that I could only imagine that Karl would think of when I told him I was pregnant. The Soldat behind me sounded of broken metal scrapping against each other. It was making me more nervous the closer we got back to home.

When I walked in the Soldat went slack. Tired I could only assume. I hadn’t notice that I had spent nearly all day at Donnas until the sky turned dark around me. Had the idea crossed my mind that maybe I wouldn’t need to tell Karl until it was absolutely needed.

NO.

No, it had crossed my mind. Crossed my mind so much that when I walked back into the workshop. Karl was right where I let him that morning, sitting there at the work bench working on yet another design for yet another creature. “Buttercup?” Karl said, I hadn’t been in the room for more than a few moments. “Yes sweetie.” I said calmly trying desperately to get my voice in control, along with the running thoughts.

“You were gone all day long! You said you’d be back soon.” Karl said his voice was for the few times I had heard it was small. Quiet almost, like I had hurt him by being gone for so long. I smiled, at least he hadn’t asked me what Donna needed. I walked over to him. Climbing into his lap, like always he was warm to the touch and it had such an overwhelming sense of calm it brought with it. I fell right in to the normal way of our life.

Without questions from Karl about my visit to Donnas. Karl let me sit right there, his hand coming to hold my gently up against his chest. The smell of metal and rubber coming into my senses lulling me to sleep that night. I never told him about finding out I was pregnant. It wasn’t something I had thought about when I was in his lap.

Months went by, some slow some fast. But that didn’t stop the growing stomach that was becoming hard to hide. The restless nights I had of no sleep to point where Karl would no longer sleep in the same bed as me. Maybe the guilt of not telling him afraid of his answer had kept me awake most nights.

Karl wasn’t concerned I had kept my morning sickness to myself in the earlier days but this was becoming worse and worse. Harder and Harder to keep to myself. Something broke though, the ability to keep it secret. Karl was down in the factory working on one of his soldiers. “Karl!!” I yelled from the elevator. “We need to leave for Mirandas meeting.” I screamed from the door.

“GOD DAMN IT.” Was all I heard come from a lower level and then a clung of tools hitting the ground. Murmurs of what I assumed were curses to Miranda about her damn meetings, but I was already going back up the elevator. I giggled at the small notice that this child might just turn out a little bit like him. I had talked with Donna multiple times after she told me I was pregnant.

Donna had become my confidant. She always looked at me, I could feel it when we were at meetings. A small smile could seen through the black veil. Today was no different, at least from Donna it wasn’t, but not from Mother Miranda. We were late like always. A welding hammer that was hanging off of Karls shoulder. Karl walked with a strong sense of power that hung loose around the both of us.

I on the other hand was a mess. I had a strange walk that was starting to become hard to hide, and I only wore the loose-fitting clothes that I managed to find in Karls's closet. Mother Miranda gave me an odd look at first, then looked away. Her view only staying on her precious child. She talked of new projects for all of the child to do. She talked about herself, and how she needed a strong suiter for her new daughter.

Then she looked over at me. Her eyes creasing with great force. Overprotective as always Karl was more than ready to fight her right there and then. “Whatever you’re thinking about I’d sit down son.” Miranda said, walking away from her grand stance. Instead walking towards me, I was scared, but not only for myself but for my unborn child. The fear that washed over my face was evident to everyone. A weary pair of eyes looked from over Miranda shoulders. Donnas.

“Y/n.” Miranda said. I moved my gaze over to her. Regal and scary was mother Miranda and she used it in every way possible with anyone and everything around her, and I was dumb to assume I would be out of that realm. “You’re keeping a secret from us all.” She said standing tall in front of me. Her eyes grazed down my body, a small frame. It was hard to miss a growing stomach.

“Yes, yes you are. You haven’t told anyone yet you are so far along.” She said her words etching themselves into my brain. I hadn’t meant for it to go down this way, and yet here I was standing in front of everything about to be exposed.

“What is she talking about?” Karl asked, his voice dropping ever so slightly. A concerned feature etching in his beautiful face. I was at loss of words. This wasn’t the place. This couldn’t be happening now. The tears that I didn’t know were coming had come rushing down my face.

“You aren’t the brightest are you Heisenberg?” Miranda questioned. “Your lovely pet here, has been keeping a secret from you. And from me.” Miranda continued on. The tears continued to and the heart stopping feeling didn’t stop either. “A secret that would be a wonderful new addition to our family.” Karl was twisting in his seat. A supportive hand coming to clamp around mine. A soothing thumb rubbing circles into my hand. “Tell him Y/n. Tell all of us.” Miranda said. Her arms opening wide showing off a room of awaiting people

I stumbled over my words for the first few seconds. “Go on tell him.” I looked over at Karl through falling tears that he gently wiped away for me. “I found out only a few months ago. I had a little help I didn’t want to tell you and then everything falls apart around me. I love you too much to let that happen. But I... we are...” I tired the words were getting caught in the back of my throat.

“Oh, just say it already.” It was an order, a snap coming from Miranda. A small huff, before the words fell from my lips. “We are going to have a baby. I’m pregnant and kept it a secret from you. I’m so sorry. I know it can’t take back all the time I wasted by not telling you. I swear I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just trying to...” The words end in the back of my throat, cut off by the anger that was pouring out of Karl.

Anger towards Miranda. Not me, not all. Nothing but sweets gazes. “You dare say that it was as secret from you. This baby isn’t yours. Did you help create it? NO, now keep your fucking threats to yourself. And your baby snatching hands.” Karl screamed out to Miranda. With a soft sweep around the room his gazed landed on Donna. Fear rooted from him to her. A straight line. “Did you help Y/n?” He asked voice still filled with rage. A small shake of Donnas head was all the conformation he needed. Turning to look back at Miranda. “And if you dare fucking touch Donna or her freak doll Angie, I swear to God Miranda I will bring earth and hell on your ass. Now stay the fuck out of my life and my baby's life.” With that Karl was walking us out of the door.

The walk home was quick, and when the doors to the workshop closed. Karl was on his knees in front of me. Hands throwing off the long loose-fitting clothes from my body. I was still to stunned by his words and actions at the meeting to notice the warmth that was flooding my body. The warmth was coming from Karl. His hands slightly and carefully grazing over the growing bump. No bigger than 4 months along. “You said you love me.” Karl said looking up at me. Those eyes, the eyes I fall in love with everyday looking up at me. I only shook my head. “Can you say it again?” He asked me. I smiled a mending smile. “I love you, Karl.” I spoke. My small hand coming to cover his larger one.

“Y/n, god look so good like this.” Karl said, a cheeky look in his eyes. “All pregnant, and round just for me.” He said pressing a little kiss to my growing belly. “You aren’t mad?” I asked, fear was always there bound to come out in moments of absolute peacefulness. “No buttercup. I’m not mad I know why you didn’t say anything I understand all the fears. But I’m here for you buttercup. I’ll always be here for you and my kid.” He said kissing my bump a second time.

Completed on 12/29/22

Posted on 12/30/22

House Heisenberg-

#resident evil village heisenberg #karl heisenberg smut #karl heisenberg x y/n #karl heisenberg #karl hisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #karl heisenberg x reader #fem reader #female #resident evil village #resi 8 #resident evil 8 #resident evil #heisenberg x reader #heisenberg x you #heisenberg x oc #karl heisenberg fanfic #house heisenberg

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chirp-a-chirp · 1 year

Text

The Lion Lives On

Word Count: ~490

Fandom + Suitor: Ikemen Prince, Leon

Prompt: Let me guess…you caused this?

Description: Leon pays his respects to an important person in his life. Part of @cy-inky #1weekchl!

Implied spoilers to Leon’s route.

…

The wind stirs underneath the forest canopy. Moonlight pierces through a gap between overlapping tree branches, illuminating a worn but well-preserved gravestone. The stone is blank except for a single line.

The Lion Lives On

A horse whinnies as it trots on a barely visible forest trail. A man with warm amber eyes and thick dark hair steadies the mare as she stops at a nearby clearing. The man dismounts and walks reverently towards the gravestone, fireflies lighting his path.

“We’ve done it.”

Sounds of celebration are faint but clear, even this deep in the woods, Rhodolite rejoicing their new king’s coronation. The man kneels on the ground, wiping leaves off the stone. “I know it’s been a while since we last spoke, but I’ve been kinda busy.” His bark of laughter is brief. “You understand why.” He points to a golden crown peeking from a satchel slung across his shoulder.

“You can thank Yves for these.” Leon reaches inside the satchel, grabbing a small bag. “Sugar cookies, your favorite. Don’t tell Licht I took them.” He places the bag next to the gravestone. “Yves has grown so much. Still cries a lot though. This time due to Clavis’ traps. And maybe the state of the domestic faction office,” Leon admits, laughing quietly.

“Jin watches over everyone like always. When he’s not flirting with pretty women, that is.” The smile on Leon’s face turn soft as he continues. “But now your brothers have someone else watching them. Especially me.” Leon’s fingers graze his cheek, tracing the last place Emma kissed him.

“You would have liked her. Everyone does. Even Chevelier, though he’ll never say it.”

“No, that doesn’t do her justice. You would’ve lov—“ Leon’s voice cuts off, choking with barely suppressed emotion. Would the real Leon be with Emma now if he had lived? Leon bites his lip, embarrassed at the flickers of jealousy scorching his heart. He grips the side of the gravestone.

“I’m sorry. I just love her so much. I can’t—” Leon stops speaking as the fireflies congregate around his chest, their light glowing brightly. The darkness that penetrated his heart dissipates as the fireflies move in unison towards the gravestone. Leon blinks in astonishment.

“Let me guess…you caused this?”

Leon nods at the fireflies. He feels as if the spirit of the boy is speaking to him, giving his approval of Emma.

“I’ll bring her here next time, I promise.” Leon stands up, picking stray twigs off his knee and lower leg. “You should not be mourned alone and forgotten.” Leon begins walking away, but not before adding,

“With her, I remember who I am. I hope you’re alright with that.”

The fireflies float back towards the path, lighting the way. “I’ll take that as a yes.” Leon mounts the horse, taking one last look at the grave. He peers at the crown in the satchel.

“Now, the real work begins.”

#ikemen prince #ikemen prince leon #ikeprince #ikemen prince emma #leon dompteur #1weekchl #ikepri leon

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w0lp3rtinger · 1 year

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Late Evening Talks

Day one of ShadAmy Week 2023! Big shout out to @shadowsfascination and @killingthecringe . They have been patient enough to beta for me, and to them, I am eternally grateful 💜

Gigi the Parakeet belongs to both @lambpaca and I

------

The evening sky rolling down from the mountain was a deep plum. Waves of reeds cast in hues of blue and black bowed beneath it, rippling as a glittering sea of fireflies swam to the surface.

Amy sipped her coffee slowly, smiling to herself at the joyous screams of Gigi and Rosie, like cymbals in the orderly orchestra of nighttime, crashing somewhere in the dark. From her spot on the swinging bench, she could see their shadows if she squinted. They were such small things against the silhouette of the mountain behind them.

Gigi had never seen lightning bugs, not like this. It was one of the moments Amy had looked forward to when she finally came home with them.

Home, safe, cradled here in the valley.

The porch door opened, and a familiar warmth spread through Amy. She rested her head on Shadow’s shoulder as he sat down next to her with a sigh.

“You good?” Amy asked, voice low.

Shadow kissed her forehead but said nothing. Instead, Amy felt him shuffle, reaching a hand up, and instinctively, she grabbed for it.

Somewhere within the darkness, Gigi screamed that she had caught another firefly. Somewhere within the deep twilight, Rosie screeched with glee, and the crickets played their little hearts out, and the katydids sang. Somewhere within the house, there were marshmallows to toast, and wood for a fire, and books they would read together before bedtime.

All was right in the world, and Amy breathed it in, holding Shadow’s hand tightly.

It was in that moment she realized he was shaking.

“Hey,” she sat up, turning to face him as she took both his hands in hers now, “hey, what’s going on?”

Shadow opened his mouth, then shut it. Amy ran her thumbs over his knuckles and waited until suddenly, he brought both her hands to his lips and kissed them gently.

“Thank you for being here.” His voice seemed so small, fragile. “Thank you for loving me.”

Amy bit her lip as she swallowed her heart back to her chest. “Well… thank you for loving me, too.”

Shadow looked at her then, finally. His eyes glowed softly in the dark, the valleys of skin under his cheeks sunk in darkness. As Amy moved to caress his face, the soft wind blew through the fields and bent the hard reeds.

Shadow closed his eyes as he placed his hands over hers. “I never thought I’d get to be here.”

Amy couldn’t help but give a soft laugh, “I never thought I’d make it here either. But we did it. We’re home, and it’s pretty great.”

The watery chuckle Shadow gave just about snapped her in two. Amy leaned in, kissing his forehead before wrapping the blanket around them both, nestling into his chest while Gigi’s laughter rang in her ears.

#shadamy week 2023 #shadamy #library #gigi #aaaah i am so happy to write more with gigi!#late evening talks #sonic #sega #sth #gigi the parakeet

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bug-fics · 1 year

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S.H x reader

Just a short little blurb about summer and Autumn, and how you and Steve fell in love when love wasn't supposed to happen. A summer fling turned forever. Hopefully this gets me out of my writers block.

I didn't edit it that much, so bare with any spelling mistakes.

Warnings: nsfw themes, insecurity but no angst. No dialogue or anything like that, just 600 words of me rambling and trying to be poetic when I am not

Summer was warm, it was beautiful and soft. It was sticky skin, fireflies glowing after the sun went down, it was yellow and orange, and all things pretty. Summer was for fun, it was the season to forget your worries and focus on the good times. Summer was all skin and sweat. It was clear waters and flickering campfires. Fluffy marshmallows, and melty chocolate. Summer was freckled shoulders and burnt cheeks. Steve Harrington was summer, he was beautiful. But just like Summer, he wasn’t meant to stay with you forever. Why would someone like him to stick around for someone like you?

When the air hit your face, it smelled like the truth. You loved summer, you loved Steve Harrington. It's the season everyone missed when it was gone. It was comfortable, he was home. The warmth bleeding into Autumn was a reminder that he didn't love you, you were the one who fell, and you feared no one would be there to catch you. Because you weren't summer, you weren't Nancy, and you weren't warm.

The balmy lake glistened, it was where you and Steve spent most nights, the sloppy kisses, lake water dripping from your lips to his. You loved how he sipped you gently and chugged you hard. It was never repetitive love with Steve Harrington, he made life enjoyable. He made summer worth it. Your favorite place was in his bed, curtains flowing with the breeze that swam through the open windows. Being with him made the heat of the world seem cool, bearable.

Steve's home was in between your legs, cherry slushies and plush skin. The sweat was different, this heat was pleasurable, he devoured you. Peach lip gloss was his favorite flavor, the liquid seeping from your lips onto his skin, sticky and shimmery. You coated his fingers in milky love, the taste of summer had never been so delicious.

You were Autumn, cool and crisp. Autumn was a time for family, it was pumpkin carving and apple cider. It was county fairs and funnel cake, the sugar reminded him of your taste. The days get shorter and colder, an excuse to get closer. Layered clothes to hide away from the cold, like you wanted to hide away from summer. Steve Harrington loved fall, he loved you because you weren't summer, you were home. Autumn represents change—the changing of the leaves, the changing of hearts. The warmth bleeding into fall was a reminder that he loved you, he was the one who fell and he wanted you to catch him. Yet, you weren't Summer, and you didn't love him. How could he expect someone like you to stay for someone like him?

Fall was the time of the harvest, it brought fruit in from the land. Fall meant summer was blooming, it meant that summer had fallen in love. Because it was never just summer and never just fall. The seasons go hand in hand, they need each other to thrive, like you needed Steve Harrington's warmth and he needed your cool air to breathe. The deal was no strings attached, but the roots grew bountiful fruit, the juices spilling from your heart to his. Because you weren't summer, you weren't Nancy, you weren't warm, but you were his. He wasn't Autumn, he wasn't cool and crisp, but he was yours.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington blurb #stranger things x reader #stranger things blurb #🪲 my work #🪲 blurb #steve harrington x you #steve harrington

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midnight0stars · 1 year

Text

Angels in Flight Ch 21 - Xigbar x Fem!Reader

NSFW

Words: 1896

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You rested your head against your arms, gazing out the tower’s window to the fireflies dancing below in the moonlight. Their golden glow reflected off the babbling brook and colored the flowers scattered along the water’s edge. It was an ethereal sight, one that helped calm the restlessness inside you.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Xigbar asked from behind you.

You gasped softly, looking over your shoulder to see the moonlight casting over his shirtless silhouette. The surprise melted into a soft smile as he sat down beside you. “I didn’t even hear you get up,” you said softly. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“Nah, well sort of.” He shrugged, yawning. You stifled a giggle at his adorable sleepy state. It was such a rare thing to see. “Went to feel you up and all I got was a fist full of blanket.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you replied with a quiet chuckle, your face warming.

He chuckled along with you, smirking as his gaze danced over you. “So…what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

It did your heart good to hear him use that phrase again—just like before. Despite it, your smile fell slightly, your brows knitting together. Fingers brushed across your cheek, pushing back your hair. You leaned into his touch, your eyes sliding shut.

“It’s a lot to get used to,” you whispered. “Having a heart.”

Xigbar hummed, his thumb grazing your cheek. It was different having him be so quiet and tender, something you only ever really got to see in the quiet moments on sleepless nights like tonight.

You slid your hand over his and kissed his palm, before confessing, “I wish you were able to have yours.”

You said it so quietly, you wondered if he heard you as he didn’t reply right away. Your eyes fluttered open and you saw him looking out the window. A weariness weighed heavily across his features. His usual confident stature was slumped and the scars across his skin appeared more prominent under the moonlight.

Was this the man he was always hiding?

Endless layers of secrets concealed behind a cocky smirk and enticing words. You ran your hand along his forearm, giving him a subtle squeeze. The affection caused the slightest smile to tip his mouth and he drifted his gaze downwards.

“I don’t know, Hot Stuff,” he muttered. “Sometimes it’s easier without one.”

You swallowed, a mixture of emotions swelling from his words. Sliding your hand back up to his, you gently grabbed his wrist and led it towards your chest. He watched with a quirked up brow, a snarky comment seemingly on the tip of his tongue, but he remained quiet. You pressed his palm above your breasts, against your heart. Even through his hand, you could feel it beating. Xigbar looked at his hand, then up at you.

“If you wanted me to touch your tits—”

“I want you to feel my heart,” you interrupted him in a rush, your entire body warming. “Though, maybe later you can touch my…um, my tits.”

Xigbar’s smirk cracked into a grin and you averted your gaze. “Alright, alright,” he chuckled, rubbing his thumb against your chest. “I’m all ears.”

You opened your mouth to talk, then crumbled into a breathy laugh, your head hanging forward.

“Did I ruin it?” he asked, making your laugh fuller.

“No,” you assured him, wiping at the corner of your eyes. You leaned forward and met your lips together. “I didn’t have anything worth saying anyway.”

“I seriously doubt that,” he mumbled before sliding his hand behind your neck and kissing you deeper.

You sighed into his mouth, your heart bursting with life at the feel of his lips moving against yours. That’s what you wanted him to feel. What you only felt a fraction of as a Nobody. The thing you desperately wanted to never end.

Your lips parted and breathless gasps filled the air between you.

“I love you,” you breathed out and Xigbar grinned, kissing you again with a lingering kiss that made you softly whine with need.

“I think I do too, Hot Stuff,” he replied with a low voice just loud enough for you to hear.

You expected that sentiment to make your heart nearly explode, but instead a warmth enveloped you and in that moment, you could only describe it as being finally home.

“Let’s get you back to bed.” Xigbar mumbled, kissing along your jaw.

You let out a soft sigh, nodding as your eyes fluttered shut. “Y-yes, please.”

You didn’t even have to get up as Xigbar swept you up off the ground and carried you across the room. The cold sheets of the bed greeted you, grateful for your warmth on the cold night. Xigbar climbed over you, his lips trailing your neck as he laid you down completely.

“You know what?” he murmured into your ear and you could only whine in question. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you on my last mission.”

“Y-Yeah?” you asked, your back arching and hands trailing up his back, feeling his scars beneath your fingertips.

“Kept hearing your little moans in the back of my mind,” he replied, his hand trailing up your side to your breast. He squeezed it in his hand, making you moan. He hummed approvingly, his voice rumbling through you. “That’s the one.”

“I-I’ve thought—” you gasped, rolling your hips but you couldn’t reach his, “—about y-you touching me. Almost… almost every night.”

He groaned in your ear, lowering his body to be completely on top of you. His cock rubbed against your thigh and even through the fabric of his pants, you could feel how hard and wet it was.

“And what would fantasy me do?” he asked, pulling back just enough for you to see his smirk.

Your breath left you, despite the way your body warmed and tingled from your fingertips down to your thighs. “A-Anything he wanted,” you stammered out breathlessly.

His smirk grew into a grin. “Anything, huh?”

You barely had the chance to nod before Xigbar’s hand pressed between your legs. A gasping moan broke out of you and Xigbar chuckled. He lifted off of you and you immediately missed his warmth. His fingers hooked the sides of your pants and you lifted your hips without question, lost in a trance. The fabric tugged off and Xigbar tossed it away before pushing apart your legs. The cool night air rushed against your wet folds, making you shiver. You looked up at Xigbar, seeing the glint of his golden eye as it danced over you. His hands slid along your legs, taking his time and savoring the moment.

Blush burned through you. There was something exhilarating about being so exposed for him to see. Anyone else and you would be mortified. Xigbar though. The mere thought of it got you wet on lonely nights.

He shook his head, breathily laughing. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to a sight like this.”

You giggled, leaning up on your elbows. He met you halfway and leaned forward, kissing you for a lingering moment before pulling away and trailing his lips along your legs. Your head slung back, feeling his breath get closer and closer to your clit. His hot tongue slid along your folds in a long drawn out lick and your entire body shuddered with a wave of deep pleasure. You fell limply onto your back, whining and toes curling as Xigbar continued with slow, deliberate flicks.

A finger pressed past your entrance, your nerves igniting with a resounding throb that so dearly missed his touch.

“Fuck, Xigbar,” you groaned, your back arching and hands gripping the comforter.

His laugh rumbled through you, making you shiver. He quickened his pace, the sounds of his lips smacking and his fingers sliding in and out of you mixed with your moans and whimpers. Your legs wrapped around his back, desperately pulling him closer. He took you in greedily, his free hand gripping your hip, holding you in place as the rest of your body convulsed and twitched with every flick of his tongue.

It didn’t take long until you cried out, every muscle in your body spasming with euphoria. Xigbar groaned, suckling your clit as you came against his tongue. Just as your voice dissipated into gasping breaths, he lifted from between your legs and climbed back over you. He kissed along your neck, his finger sliding out of your pussy and idly circling your folds. You whined, still lost in a trance even after your orgasm.

“Was it something like that, Hot Stuff?” he asked, his voice low and breathy.

You swallowed hard, nodding. “E-Even better.”

He hummed, licking your ear. “You think you’ll think about that next time?”

“Y-Yeah,” you admitted and he chuckled.

“Good.”

Your hips jerked against his hand and you bit your lip. Xigbar smirked against your neck and he pulled back and rested his head against yours. His finger teasingly circled your clit, then your entrance.

“You going to cum for me again?” he asked.

You whined, your hips rolling.

“Yeah, that’s right Babe,” he murmured, his own hips rolling against your side, his cock rubbing against your thigh. “Cum for me.”

“Xigbar,” you sighed, your head rolling back. Your hand gripped his shoulder, your nails digging into him, but that only spurred him further.

Even with just his fingers, your body was so alight, every little movement sent you reeling. The rush washed over you in a wave and you gasped, your back arching entirely off the bed. Xigbar’s heavy breaths matched yours as he watched you cum, his cock leaving precum against your thigh. Just as the wave settled, his slicked fingers left your clit and he rolled you onto your side.

“X-Xig—” you started to ask in a near delirious slur, before his cock slid inside you. “Ooooh fuck…”

Xigbar’s hot breath panted against your back. One arm wrapped tightly around your waist, pressing you against him as he slid in and out of you. His other hand slid up your body, squeezing your tits, then wrapping around your neck. You slung back your head, completely lost in him. Your hands grabbed him anywhere they could, desperate to bring him closer. He groaned against your skin, his cock deep inside of you over and over again.

“Y/N,” you heard him mutter your name amidst a slew of curses and words you couldn’t fully understand between the sound of your bodies meeting together and your own gasping moans.

His hand slid down from his neck, and pressed hard against your chest where your heart pounded strongly. Xigbar bit down on the back of your shoulder and you cried out from a mixture of pain and ecstasy. His hips jerked forward, his body tightening. You could feel his cum spilling inside of you and you whined with subdued throbs of pleasure.

Both of your heavy breaths filled the suddenly quiet air. Beaded sweat covered both of your bodies, only now allowing the night’s chill to affect it. Xigbar’s grip on you loosened and he silently prompted you to turn around to face him. You breathlessly smiled, meeting his grin before you kissed him for a lingering moment.

“I wish it could always be like this,” you whispered.

Xigbar smirked. “Who knows, Hot Stuff? Maybe someday it will be.”

#kingdom hearts smut #Xigbar #Xigbar x Reader #Fem!Reader #Lucky-Smut

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