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rinamars · 1 year

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in thrall

erwin smith x f!reader. 3.8k words. read on ao3

thrall /θrɔːl/ (noun)

1. the state of being in someone’s power, or of having great power over someone.

2. a slave, servant, or captive.

All the men in the military simply died to get their hands on what belonged to Commander Smith, to no one's surprise. They lusted after his power, his money, and the beautiful woman he always had in tow.

(marley!erwin, implied sexual slavery, exhibitionism, possessive behaviour, rough sex, mild somnophilia, multiple orgasms, creampie)

It wasn’t uncommon for those in the higher ranks to have someone to keep their beds warm, and those who did didn’t even hide it. Those ladies were always present at every meeting, mouths full and bodies pliant while important military decisions were being made, but none of them could hold a candle to the one who always followed Commander Smith around like a shadow.

The Commander’s slut knew how to take cock like she was fucking made for it. She always looked the absolute prettiest when she presented herself to be used, and she was always there, open and ready to answer to her master’s every whim. She fulfilled her duty so perfectly, the little darling, always eager to try her hardest to be the best cock sheathe one could have asked for. And she was so good at it.

It was no problem for her to kneel under the sturdy desk of his office for hours on end, because she was such a good girl, willing to let her mouth get fucked for as long as it was necessary, without complaining, easing her Commander’s burden as he busied himself with dull paperwork and even duller correspondence. She just remained down there, keeping his cock warm, mouthing at his balls hungrily like they were all the sustenance she needed. Afterwards, all the Commander had to do to have her bent down on the desk and ready for him to stuff her full was utter a single word.

And the most noteworthy part is that she thoroughly enjoyed every last bit of it.

She enjoyed the nest of expensive bedsheets and pillows she woke up in every morning, she enjoyed feeling his strong hands spreading her legs open as she was still shaking the slumber from her limbs, she enjoyed being speared on that cock whose fame was notorious—because the Commander was well-endowed, everyone knew.

It was never a quickie. The Commander’s morning routine included a cup of tea, toast and fresh fruit, and a bath, but that only after he’d made sure his eager little thing was thoroughly filled with so much of his seed she was practically overflowing with it. And she would mewl and moan and whimper and ask for more, and he would comply, giving her all she wanted. She deserved it, after all, for being such a generous and willing slut. All he had to do was toss her on her stomach, angle her sweet hips just right, and fill her up all over again.

It was such a stroke of luck that the Commander had been blessed with otherworldly stamina, because he simply couldn’t refuse her when she was so desperate to be fucked all the time. He’d be hard as a rock for hours, ready to fill her to the brim without so much as breaking a sweat, feeling his soul leaving his body because she was just so hot, so tight, so wet, all for him and for him only.

And if someone needed to enter his office while he was busying himself with her? Not a problem. He would continue ramming into her like it was nothing. The continuous sound of skin slapping against skin was the background sound of every conversation he was forced to have while occupied.

Seeing the hungry, envious look in the eyes of anyone who walked in always riled him up even more. He could always tell: they wanted her, they wished it was their cock splitting her in half. The Commander was very well aware of the reputation she upheld among military men, he knew she was everyone’s object of desire, the hole they were dreaming of as they fucked their own whores. And he fucking basked in it.

“Leave the documents on my desk and tell Magath I’ll get back to him shortly,” he instructed, his voice unwavering like he wasn’t brutally fucking that soaking cunt that he owned. She was squealing, sweet little thing, having the time of her life, kissing his neck and digging her nails in his firm, bulging pectorals.

The soldier didn’t budge, clearly enraptured by the sight and the sounds.

“You may leave,” Smith added, voice harsher. He didn’t mind the audience, though. He loved it when people watched, it granted him a special kind of power no military rank could ever bestow upon him.

“Y-Yes, sir,” the other quivered, fleeing the room with an obvious tent in his uniform.

He got that surge of power most intensely whenever he was showing her off during meetings, when everyone’s present and their hungry gazes are all fixated on her charming body. Not merely because he was the one who had the luxury of experiencing what it was like to be inside her, but mainly because she was just so hungry for him. He loved it, he loved to show everyone how it was only him that she lusted after, only him that could fully satisfy her.

She always sat on his lap at first, well-behaved and quiet as a mouse, maybe grinding down on him slightly every now and then or kissing his jaw, nothing more.

But those meetings could get very long. And, as they progressed, she’d get impatient.

The movements of her hips would gain momentum, and her little whimpers would increase in volume. The Commander always noticed the exact moment in which all the men’s attention would begin to stray, more focused on her rather than on whatever military strategy they were supposed to be discussing. They would all ask for their own girls to be sent to the meeting room, they would begin fucking their faces or have them ride them, but to no avail: only her could fully grab their attention, she who only had eyes for her Commander.

It was at that moment that he’d get up and bend her over the table. He’d rip her little corset open, so that everyone could feast on the sight of her tits squished against the mahogany. He’d spread her open, revelling in the sight of her arousal already dripping everywhere, and enter her in one smooth glide. He’d continue discussing strategies and battle plans and weaponry even as the table creaked under the vigour of his thrusts, and he’d want to laugh at their pathetic faces, at their gaping, drooling mouths.

She’s mine. Another slam. The quelching sound of her wetness filling the room. Even if you could lay a finger on her, she wouldn’t be as responsive. Only I can ruin her like this. Keep dreaming.

When her moans would begin losing coherence, he’d know she was close.

“I—hah—hnngh—oh!”

He’d pause his speech only to egg her on.

“That’s it, darling,�� he’d murmur, his voice unfaltering. “Show me how pretty you look when you’re succumbing to pleasure.”

Show them. Show all of them.

The delighted screams she’d let out as she came would push everyone else over the edge, too, but not Smith. He’d want to enjoy the view a little bit longer. He’d make sure everyone was sober enough to witness him coming all over her ass, marking her. Claiming ownership once again.

He knew everyone envied him, and she knew that, too. That’s why one little show wasn’t enough for her.

No, she’d insist on latching her mouth onto his cock and balls afterwards, so pleased seeing that he was still hard. She’d suck on them so obediently, like the good girl she was, making all sorts of pleased hums, as if she was indulging in the sweetest candy. And Smith wasn’t so dumb as to refuse such an opportunity to keep his cock all nice and warm, he wasn’t so cruel as to prevent her from getting her fair share of the fun, either. She also loved seeing such important military figures turning into lecherous old fucks watching how good she was at giving head, how she could take her Commander’s huge cock all the way to the hilt, all because she craved it.

Plus, she knew her eagerness would be rewarded. And after dark was when Smith got immensely generous with his rewards, and all she needed to do was make herself all pretty for him.

The maids would draw her a nice scented bath, clean her from all his seed—empty her out just so she could be filled all over again—and make sure she smelled all sweet, and then she would slather herself with oils that would leave her skin all soft and shimmering. She’d put on a beautiful silk gown, light and soft and fluttering around her body, but foregoing the corset, because at night Smith loved to have immediate access to what lay underneath the luxurious fabric. Plus, the sight of her hardened nipples peeking through was just too delectable to pass up on.

Gatherings for the military were held most nights, and they were hedonistic displays of decadence and opulence, an excuse to indulge in whiskey, cigars and carnality. They were called ‘dinner parties’ only because it was the only respectable way to define them: the food, however, was the last thing everyone would feast on. The unspoken main focus of those gatherings was the array of eager ladies ready to offer themselves to whoever was willing. Smith couldn’t care less about any of them, though, because his own little slut catered to all his needs, and more.

It was usually a couple of hours into those dinner parties that the Commander would decide they had become an awful bore, and so he would go sit down on a (not so) secluded armchair, his obedient darling immediately following, pull down the zipper of his trousers just enough to take his cock out, and sit his perfect little slut on it. The long skirt of her dress always managed to hide where their bodies were connected.

He would light a cigarette, sit back and let her do her thing: all he had to worry about was enjoying the show of that angel bouncing up and down on him, tits nearly spilling out of her gown, mewling like a bitch in heat.

Even without her continuous string of lewd moans, everyone would have still been able to figure out that he was inside her, yet no one could see: it was a tantalizing sight for everyone present. No one could draw actual pleasure from the act, except for the two people involved. At most, the bystanders could be blessed by the sighting of her delicious body, because those silk gowns she always wore were entirely too loose to hold anything in, and, without fail, those flimsy straps would end up falling down her shoulders, exposing those glorious tits in all their beauty for everyone to see, perky and smooth and bouncing along with her.

“Look at them,” he’d growl in her ear, nibbling her earlobe, “they all want you. They all wish they were in my position right now, but they can’t have you.”

“They can’t have me!” she’d immediately cry out, delirious with pleasure and bouncing even faster. “They can’t f-fucking have me! I’m yours!”

Oh, how they all wished they could be the ones holding those majestic breasts in their hands like Smith was currently busy doing.

“Good girl,” he whispered in a groan. “That’s right. You belong to me and me only.”

He would inevitably come right there, in that room full of people that stank so much of alcohol and cigarettes it almost managed to cover the stench of sex. He’d fill her up for what certainly wasn’t going to be the only time that night. Her flowy shirt would hide the come dribbling down her legs as he picked her up to take her to a much more private location. He would stay inside her, utterly unwilling to leave his rightful place in that tight, warm heat, and she would lock her legs around his waist, desperately tilting her hips in an attempt to chase her own release.

Everyone would be made witness to that debauchery. Everyone would immediately know what they were headed to do. Those who had rooms not too far from the Commander’s would undoubtedly be able to hear the bed creaking and the headboard slamming all night long, always accompanied, of course, by those delicious moans of hers, which, to everyone’s ears, were the finest of melodies.

And the jealousy and the want that that knowledge generated would prompt everyone to enjoy the attentions of their own little darlings, despite the lingering awareness that they simply couldn’t compare to her.

He was always ready to give her her reward, which really was a reward for himself, too. If during the day he’d been too impatient to fully take her clothes off, at night he would take his time to do so, finally enjoying the full view of her exquisite body, nude from head to toe and slick from the oils and his cum already dripping from between her legs.

“Fuck me,” she moaned. She looked like an absolute delicacy, all spread open like that. Ready for him to feast upon. “Fill me up. Please, sir.”

“Impatient little slut,” he tutted, holding her knees apart so that he could circle the rim of her hole with the wet head of his cock, making her moan even louder. “And demanding, too. Haven’t I given you more than enough today, hmm?”

“I—hnngh—I deserve it, don’t I, sir?” She was already panting like a bitch. “My r-reward.”

“Tell me, angel. Why should I reward you?”

“Because I t-take—hah—I take your cock so well. With my mouth. With my hole.”

“Hmm, yes?” He was still just teasing her, making her go crazy for it. “What else?”

“For putting on… putting on a good show. For everyone to see.”

“Because you're mine, aren’t you?” Smith cooed, grabbing handfuls of her tits, enjoying their plumpness. “You put on a show to tell them they can’t have you, hmm?”

“Yes,” she cried out, breathless. “Because I’m yours, sir, I’m only yours.”

“They’re crazy for you, but your cunt is mine.”

“Ye—yeah! Stuff me full!”

Always so demanding, always asking for more. She was the only person who dared ordering Commander Smith around, and the only person he allowed to do so.

His hands slid upwards to slide his thumb over her full bottom lip.

“On your knees.” She kneeled on the floor in an instant. “Open up.” Her lips parted before he’d even finished articulating his command.

He sat on the bed and admired the way she looked between his legs. He pumped his length once, twice, before feeding it all to her, keeping a hand firm on her nape to guide her onto it.

Although nothing could top fucking into the tight heat of her cunt, her mouth was a close second. It was crazy how she could basically unhinge her jaw until she was able to take him all the way to the hilt, letting out delectable moans around him whenever his balls slapped against her chin. He’d then pull out until just the tip was inside, and her tongue would swirl around it as if she was sucking on a lollipop and relishing its sweet flavour.

“Such a good girl,” he praised her. “Taking me so deep.”

“Mm-mmh-hnngh,” was all she could muster, her eyes shut in the ecstasy of having her mouth so full. The wet, squelching sounds her mouth was producing got louder with each thrust.

He was fucking her mouth in earnest, both hands holding her head now, obsessed with the way her throat tightened around him whenever he was all the way in. When the sounds of her choking became more frequent than her delighted moans, he pulled out of her mouth. Her lips and her chin were shiny with spit and precum. She gasped loudly for breath, but smiled shortly after. As expected from his little slut: she enjoyed every second of it, even when she was gagging on his cock.

He caressed her cheek, wet from her tears, and she quickly nuzzled against his palm, eager to chase every single touch he graced her with.

“From behind or from the front?” he inquired, icy eyes boring into hers. “I’ll be having you both ways, but you can choose what to do first. As part of your reward.”

“From the front,” she mewled, grabbing his hand with her small fingers and rubbing it even further against her cheek. “Please, sir, please, take me from the front.”

She was so wet and ready he slipped right in despite his considerable size, but that doesn’t mean the friction was any less pleasurable on both sides. Her delighted, almost relieved moan was proof enough, and so was his own guttural grunt.

As always, it was rough from the very beginning. He folded her legs so that her knees were on both sides of her head and began to thrust into her with abandon, the squelching sounds of their coupling getting louder, but never overshadowing her lewd moans. Eventually, he let go of one of her legs—which she immediately wrapped around his waist—so that he could grab the headboard to make it slam against the wall. He loved to be loud. He loved to make it known to everyone what they were up to, and so did she.

“Yes—yes!” she screamed as he humped her like an animal. Both of her hands joined his on the metallic bars of the headboard, making it slam even louder against the wall. Yes, she wanted everyone to know who owned her. “Oh—hah—hah—use me—”

“You’re always—so tight, no matter how many times I fuck you.” His voice was starting to become affected by the sheer amount of pleasure he was experiencing. He was no longer composed and put together: Commander Smith was becoming a slave to his own flesh. “So hot—ah—the most perfect little hole—”

“I’m perfect!” The way she arched her back was simpy exquisite. “I’m—yours! Take me!”

He must have been glad he’d let her choose the position in which he fucked her first, and that she’d chosen to be taken from the front, otherwise he would have missed the sight of bliss taking over her face as she came. It was an expression so similar to that of religious imagery, and the idea was intoxicating to him. That’s right, he thought, still fucking her through her orgasm. I’m your master. I’m your god. I own you.

He somehow managed to pull out before he could spill into her, and a wicked half-smile took over his face at the sound of her whining in protest. He wouldn’t be leaving her empty and aching for too long, though. Wasn’t it supposed to be a reward, after all?

No, he was nowhere near done with her. Aided by how pliant her body always got after an earth-shattering orgasm, he grabbed her waist with both hands and effortlessly turned around so that she was lying on her stomach. She immediately knew what was required of her: she planted both of her wobbly arms on the mattress so that she was positioned face-down and ass-up.

“What a sight,” he growled. “You’ll just lie there and take it, won’t you, darling?”

“Again,” she whimpered into the pillow. “More.”

“What did I tell you about being impatient?”

He delivered those words accompanied by a harsh slap on her ass. She choked out a loud whine, one that didn’t at all sound like pain. She enjoyed it.

“You just can’t get enough. Even this is turning you on.” Another loud smack filled the room. He watched as her skin began to redden under the impact. “Slut.”

“Hah—yeah!”

He already knew that about her, of course. He was already familiar with how much she loved getting a good spaking. That wasn’t punishment by any means: it was part of the reward.

More harsh slaps left the imprint of his large palm on her ass, and it satisfied him. It satisfied him enough to finally grab her waist and impale her on his cock once again. The spanking had clearly increased the stimulation tenfold for her, judging by the way she cried out in pleasure. The bed rocked relentlessly under his vigorous thrusts, its creaking sounds filling the room and driving him wild.

Since he’d basically edged himself earlier, it wasn’t long before his seed finally filled her. Stuffing her full, as per her request. It was so much it dribbled down her thighs as soon as he pulled out.

“Filthy,” he commented, though it was making him utterly delirious. He used his fingers to shove his own release back inside as much as he could before turning her back around and entering her again. And everything started all over again.

Her second orgasm had hit alongside his, and it had rendered her boneless and lethargic. Her loud moans were reduced to tiny, incoherent whimpers, her eyes fluttered shut more often that they were open, but her body kept sucking him in like he belonged there. Like she just couldn’t help but be needy for it. And he was more than ready and willing to give her what she wanted, as many times as it would take, filling her up again and again.

“Mine,” he grunted, feral. “Mine. Fucking—mine.”

The pathetic noises she was making sounded like an agreement.

It was seriously crazy how tight she could still be despite how many times he’d used her cunt, the pressure would always be heavenly no matter what. And she was always willing to lie there and take it. No matter what.

He eventually lost count of how many times he’d filled her up, how many orgasms he’d fucked her through, and how many positions he’d managed to fold her body in. By the time he was on the verge of falling asleep, the sheets were filthy and her body was covered in handprints and bite marks: a delicious sight.

He refused to leave that tight heat to sleep, dead set on staking his claim even while unconscious. And if he woke up throughout the night and found himself still hard, bucking into her would have been easier that way. He loved how simple it was to toss her around and fuck her whenever he wanted, as much as he wanted.

And it was bliss, every single time.

(When she’d open her eyes in the morning and feel his cock inside her, always hard, always hungry for her, she would smile. The serene, satisfied smile of someone who knows she has Marley’s most powerful and influential man wrapped around her pretty little finger.)

#alright here it is #posting this before i regret it #erwin smith x reader #erwin smith x f!reader #erwin smith smut #erwin smith x you #mars writes

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hauntingsofhouses · 9 months

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We all already know Mizu and Akemi are narrative foils. But you know what? Lemme just say it, here's what I think:

Taigen and Mikio are foils.

Not necessarily to each other as individuals in the way that Mizu and Akemi juxtapose each other, but mostly in the contrast between their relationships with Mizu.

I've covered specific parallels between Taigen and Mikio in other posts I wrote; but as the number of parallels I'm noticing between them keeps piling up, I'm compelled to just compile them all in one post. So! This is, thus, the post in question.

First of all, let's look at their similarities.

1. Their status in society is the same. They are both samurai who lost their honour and have dreams of reclaiming it.

2. They are also both diligent as they strive to achieve this goal, they both care deeply about their work, but here as they begin to contrast, as the work in question and way they go about their goals is different:

For Mikio, his work is in taming and rearing horses; in order to prove himself, he must tame Kai—a willful and strong horse—and present it to his lord. For Taigen, his work is in sword fighting and martial arts; in order to prove himself, he must kill Mizu—a willful and strong swordsman—and present her dead body to his lord.

In the parallel above, not only are Taigen and Mikio contrasting each other, but Mizu and Kai are placed in comparison as well. And of course, Kai is Mizu's horse, and represents her. Which is why, when later, Mikio sells Kai off, it represents the way he is tossing Mizu (and their relationship) aside.

From there, the rest of the details of their character begin to contrast and juxtapose each other more clearly. So let's look at those differences, shall we?

Their backstory:

Mikio was a great samurai who was banished. A somebody to a nobody. Taigen was a fisherman’s son who rose to the top. A nobody to a somebody.

2. The first time we meet them on-screen:

Mikio is an adult. An older man. Mizu's superior in age. He is Mizu's to-be husband. A love interest. Taigen is a child. A young boy. Mizu's peer in age. He is Mizu's bully. An antagonist.

3. Their maturity and growth:

Mikio is mature, but stuck in his ways. Taigen is immature, but capable of changing and learning.

4. Their overall attitude:

Mikio is generally relaxed, easy-going and unfussy. Taigen is uptight, irritable and severe.

5. How they talk to and conduct themselves around Mizu:

Mikio is aloof, soft-spoken, and serious. Taigen is obnoxious, brash, and sarcastic. Mikio is quiet, speaking only when spoken to, even when Mizu turns to smile at him and shows openness to be near him. Taigen is loud, talking while others are silent, even when Mizu turns from him and shows no interest in conversing with him.

Mikio doesn't show much of who he is to Mizu throughout their marriage, despite their growing affection. Taigen openly shares his traumas and life story to Mizu during their brief alliance, despite their mutual antagonism.

6. Their external vs internal selves:

Mikio is calm, gentle, and considerate on the outside. Taigen is hot-headed, rude, and selfish on the outside. Mikio is cowardly and deceitful on the inside. Taigen is brave and loyal to a fault on the inside. Mikio tells Mizu that he wants to know and see all of her. But he scorns and betrays her, the woman he loves. Taigen tells Mizu that he wants to duel and kill him. But he endures torture to not betray him, the man he hates.

9. Their hair, a symbol of their honour:

Mikio's topknot is untied by Mizu during their spar. This humiliation occurs in private, the two of them alone in a rural location where no one can see them. Taigen's topknot is cut off by Mizu during their duel. This humiliation occurs in public, the two of them being watched by many others in the Shindo Dojo.

10. Their power dynamic with Mizu:

Mikio believes he is Mizu's mentor. He teaches her to throw knives, how to ride and care for horses, and about the tactical benefits of using a naginata. Taigen believes he is Mizu's equal. He views Mizu as a samurai like himself who received all the same teachings he did, and who possesses the same values.

11. Their perceptions of Mizu:

Mikio sees Mizu's feminine side first. He sees her as sweet and gentle, but also clumsy and incompetent. Taigen sees Mizu's masculine side first. He sees her as terrifying and deadly, but also strong and skilled.

12. The way they approach sparring with Mizu:

Mikio only spars with Mizu once. As the fight progresses and she is beating him, he tries to put a stop to it. When she teases/provokes him, he starts taking the fight personally and seriously, finding no enjoyment in it. Taigen spars and brawls with Mizu all the time. No matter how many times Mizu beats him, he doesn't back down. When Mizu challenges him with a chopstick, he is eager to compete with her and gladly rises up to the challenge.

Mikio and Mizu's one and only spar is a friendly match; Mizu is smiling and having fun while he grows increasingly frustrated. Taigen and Mizu's last-seen spar is a playful wrestling match; both him and Mizu are having fun and laughing.

Mikio cannot deal with Mizu being better than him, so he scorns her and walks off, avoiding her thereafter. When Taigen cannot deal with Mizu being better than him, he follows her to observe her moves and continues training in hopes to eventually beat her. After being bested by Mizu once, Mikio leaves her and sells the horse he'd previously gifted to her. After many times losing to Mizu and fighting alongside her, Taigen commends her and admits she is better than him.

13. When Mizu pins them down in a friendly spar:

Mikio sees Mizu's whole face objectively. Taigen stares at Mizu's mouth and eyes.

Mikio gets angry when she kisses him, throwing her off of him and snapping at her, calling her a monster. Taigen gets aroused, apologising, so she pulls herself off of him.

14. Mizu's blue meteorite sword is a reflection of her soul. She believes most are undeserving to face it, let alone hold it. And on that note:

Mikio is the first person (chronologically) that Mizu fights against using her sword. Taigen is the first person (we see on-screen) that Mizu fights against with her sword. Mikio is the first person (chronologically) to ever hold her sword, as she passes it to him, letting him wield it. Taigen is the first person (we see on-screen) to ever hold her sword, as she passes out, and he picks it up and carries it for her.

15. Then, last but not least, in Fowler's fortress, when she is drugged and in pain, she hears Ringo's voice in the dungeon. She then follows it to an open cell:

Mizu first sees Mikio as a hallucination, the sight of him haunting her and causing her to lose her grip on reality. Her eyes glow a surreal blue to represent this. Her Mama appears then and says Mizu's name accusingly.

Mizu then sees Taigen, but he is real, the sight of him a relief and grounding her back to reality. Her eyes return to their normal blue colour to represent this. Taigen looks at Mizu weakly and says her name softly.

Then, later, when facing Fowler, her revenge awaiting her, she instead chooses to follow her conscience (represented by Ringo's voice in her mind), putting aside her vengeance for a time, in order to save Taigen.

So that's basically all the ones I've noticed so far, but even then, I feel there's already so much that forms a contrast between these two.

What makes it especially incredible about these juxtapositions is that Mikio was Mizu's husband, the man she had fallen in love with, the one person she had ever been intimate with, the man who made her begin to accept herself, to put down her desire for vengeance and instead live a life of peace and happiness.

So for Taigen to have so many parallels with him... Do you see what I'm saying here!

Not to mention that Mizu clearly already has some burgeoning attraction to him, as indicated by how she thinks of him when asked about her desires. And Taigen clearly has shown interest as well (see: him getting a boner after their spar, him holding her hand and telling her, "We're not done yet.").

And on the topic of speculating future possibilities of this relationship, this post by @stromblessed has pointed out yet another parallel between Taigen and Mikio:

Mizu promises Taigen to meet him for their duel in autumn. Mizu fell in love with Mikio and duelled him during autumn.

With all that said, I do believe Mizu and Taigen's relationship is definitely hurtling towards something. But whether they will actually end up together in a sustainable relationship and have a happily ever after? Well, that is a whole other story; we'll just have to wait and see.