#sub hunter

[oceansssblue]

I have a crackship that can be fun to play with…

Baylan Skoll x Hunter 👉👈

Can be like. They meet at the clone wars in a mission. Lots of freedom to play with~ and smutty. Younger man and older man is so good

I see whatcha mean... naive young hunter x daddy skoll coming right up! I think you're gonna adore this!

Xx, Blue.

"OPEN FOR YOU" – HUNTER / BAYLAN SKOLL 🔥

WARNINGS: Hunter's first time with a man, sort of discovering his bisexuality. Fleeting mentions of blood and war related stuff but nothing overly graphic. Explicit sex scene; hand in neck, hair pulling, bitting, thigh fuck, anal, sort of dom/sub implied energy, breeding and humiliation kink.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hunter's drenched in sweat and blood. It's like a second layer on his body; slipping through the small cracks of his armour and dripping down his skin. Some of it has already dried; making him feel dirty and sticky. He holds himself firm through the after-battle debriefing, though, no matter how exhausted he is and how much his muscles ache; other commanders and captains from the one-eighty-fourth around him. Jedi Masters Jor Aerith and Baylan Skoll are updating Admiral Rassa on their newest victory. They'll probably come to pick them up in the early hours of the morning; letting them a night to rest.

The briefing ends; and Hunter patiently waits for the rest of the clones to scatter around the camp. General Aerith leaves chatting with his commander as well; and Hunter aproaches the other Jedi to find out the motive of his request for him to stay behind.

"General" he salutes, as formal as always, ignoring the fluttering in his chest of being this close to him.

Something in Hunter had shifted upon seing him for the first time. He had never thought of men like that; already used –and satisfied– to his fleeting romances with corusscanti girls to think on anything else. He had always been attracted to females; to the way that a pair of breasts felt in his hands, their curves, a shy but flirty smile, and the way they sweetly moaned against his ear when Hunter pounded into them. Women were beautiful things, and he hadn't spared men a single glance of interest before last week.

General Skoll, though... Something in Hunter had shivered when his chocolate eyes had first landed on the man. Kaminoans had undeniable done a fairly good job on making fine male human specimens; an optimal physique for a soldier's life. Clones were tall, strong, loyal and dextreous; but Baylan Skoll was something else. He was huge. Hunter doesn't remember ever seeing a human that tall before; robust, too. When they had been introduced upon the batch's arrival, Hunter had felt small besides him. And well, the sergeant of CF99 may be just a tiny few inches shorter than the rest of his brothers; but he had never really felt small before.

He had unconciously payed attention to him for the rest of the battle; and not only because his team had been assigned to him. Between one blaster shot and another, he had watched as the Jedi brought and end to hundreds of separatist droids with a flicker of his saber; a blue that rivaled with the colour of his eyes. Hunter noticed how different his fighting style was as opposed to other Jedis he had seen before. General Skoll's moves held a sort of unusual anger in them; a quiet and deadly one.

"Your team did an excellent job out there" the man offers, interrupting Hunter's line of thoughts and bringing him back to the present. "I must admit I was curious to see this elite team of troopers I had heard so much about".

Hunter doesn't like to feel like this; like a giggling teenage girl who had just discovered her first boy crush. He feels nervous, flushed. He has to make an effort to hold the Jedi's stare.

"Thank you, Sir" he politely replies, swallowing the rest of his emotions down. "I'm glad to know we lived up to the task".

The man smiles. It's such an inusual thing to see in war Hunter's heart skips a beat in his chest. His brown eyes flicker over the General's facial features; from his short graying beard to his lips and travelling up to his nose and cheekbones.

"You did. You looked almost feral in the battlefield; all instincts" he points out, and Hunter is suddenly stunned by the realisation that the Jedi had also been playing attention to him.

A tiny blush settles on top of his cheeks.

"Speaking of which" the man continues, taking an object from under his robes and handing it to him. "I believe this is yours".

Hunter reaches a hand towards his vibroblade; he had lost it in the caos of the battle, lost in who knew which droid. Knowing the General had bothered to retrieve it for him...

"T-thank you, Sir" he can't control the tiny stutter in his voice, and he busies himself placing the blade in it's pocket in his thigh again, avoding the heavy weight of Baylan's stare.

The man takes a few steps forward until there are nothing but inches in between their bodies; surprising the clone by placing a calloused hand under his chin and gently pushing it upwards. Hunter gasps; having no other option left than to look into those blue eyes.

"I'm... Curious about you, Hunter" the Jedi confesses, making the clone's eyes widen in surprise. "My tent is open for you, if you'd like to visit after you clean up".

He doesn't seem to expect an answer from him now; and Hunter rushes to wash the war off of him with a deep blush crawling down his neck onto his chest.

Jedi General Baylan Skoll wanted to have sex with him. Jedi General Baylan Skoll wanted to... Fuck him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Not that he could take a proper shower –hell, not even a sonic–, but at least Hunter feels more like a regular person when all the gore from the week-long battle is washed off of his body. Some may think dipping his blacks into a bucket of used water to scrape it through his body unhigienic and disgusting; but honestly, it feels like glory. The water is cold, the blood and grime dissapears from his skin; and not even the uncomfortable feeling of those same wet blacks sticking onto his body afterwards is enough to take such a simple pleasure from it. There's no space for comodities in the battlefield.

Hunter makes an excuse to his brothers –though they can probably tell there's something else going on, Tech frowning and Crosshair's eyes following him out of their tent–, and the sergeant walks almost in a trance in the direction of Baylan's. He clears his throat nervously right outside of it; and then makes his presence known without yet stepping inside. Some part of him still thinks he has to have malinterpreted this. Or that he may have changed of opinion.

"General?"

Hunter is glad the Jedi's have camped a bit further away than the rest of the clone tents; it gives him an illusion of privacy.

The curtain of cloth that makes the door for the tent is pushed away; and the Jedi Master scans him with interest, in silence. Hunter tries not to fidget. He's a soldier; he has faced more life-threatening and dangerous situations than this.

"Come on in" the man gestures inside.

Hunter complies, and shivers when the General follows him until his chest is almost pressed to the clone's back; his towering figure making Hunter feel small once again. It's an... Exciting feeling. Hunter involuntarily holds his breath.

"I'm glad you decided to take the chance" the man almost rumbles, his warm breath hitting one side of Hunter's neck. "I had my doubts".

Hunter gulps and does his best at staying in place. Now that he comes to think of it, he's almost standing at attention. He can't help but to feel tense; it's a new experience for him. Is it for Baylan too, or is he used to this kind of things?

Hunter stays in silence. He honestly has no idea what to say.

One of the Jedi's hand crawl up to brush through his long, wet hair, and another shiver spreads through Hunter's spine. If the man notices it, he doesn't point it out.

"Have you been with another male before, Hunter?" He gently asks, perhaps reading into his nervousness.

Hunter tries not to keen into the way the man plays with his hair. He's never been more gratefull for its length.

"N-no, Sir. I... Didn't even think I was into that" he admits.

Baylan hums, interested, and carefully tugs Hunter's hair down, forcing his chin up. He's so tall that Hunter is able to meet his eyes with the help of his curved spine.

A rush of pleasure travels through his veins, sending warmth towards his cock. It's hot, the way the older man is making him bend, how heavy and focused his stare is. A tiny sound escapes the clone's lips. The Jedi smirks almost imperceptibly.

"What is it about me that makes me special, then?" He asks, daring Hunter to confess his thoughts and admiration.

One hand starts a slow pace from his lower stomach up towards his neck, a teasing caress that brings goosebumps on Hunter's skin. The soldier has to make an effort to not close his eyes; to keep his mind clear enough to answer.

"You're..." shyness atempts to take hold of him, but Hunter pushes himself to say it. "Handsome. Big. Powerfull".

It's a good sum up, he thinks.

The last word seems to catch Baylan's attention.

"Mm. Powerfull" the hand in his hair tugs with a little more force, and Hunter feels his spine complaining, but he doesn't ask to be released from his firm hold. "A curious observation. I wonder if you find that attractive because you'd like to feel the exact opposite?"

The hand teasing his body climb up to his neck; and the General's fingers firmly close around it.

Hunter whines.

It's not impeeding his breathing; but it's strong enough that he feels threathened by it.

His cock throbs. A sort of dizzying cloud envelops the soldier's mind. Hunter's body curves further; pushing his own neck against the Jedi's strong grip and sticking his ass backwards, an unconcious plead to feel the older man's body on his.

Baylan chuckles, and conceeds Hunter's silent request. He closes the few inches between them with a single small step forward; and presses the whole length of his bigger body against the sergeant. Hunter feels simultaneously relieved and nervous; the General's own erection trapped between them, and very noticably pressed against his lower back.

"I'll take that as a yes" Baylan murmurs, amused, blue eyes roaming over Hunter's beautiful shape. "You don't have to feel ashamed. It works perfectly fine for me. I'm aware you're more than capable in the battlefield; the thought of being able to break that perfect little soldier disposition sends a rush of desire through me".

The Jedi finally releases his hold on both his hair and neck –Hunter slumping a bit forward inevitably, but inmediatly caught by the man's strong hands on his hips–; and Baylan brushes his lips over the spot behind his right ear.

"You want that, don't you? Want to please your General?" He taunts him, and Hunter whimpers in a mix of desire and humiliation.

"Answer me" the Jedi snaps, pushing his own hips against Hunter's backside.

He gasps.

"Y-yeah" he breathes out, red tinting his cheeks and neck. "Yes, Sir".

The man smiles, though Hunter is unable to see it. He caresses his hands up and down his sides; finally coming around to take two full hands of the clone's ass. Hunter sighs.

"Let me see you" the Jedi asks, voice low and raspy.

Hunter nods, and he stays put while the older man tugs his blacks down, moving down the zipper from neck to the base of his spine and then pushing it down further until he feels warm air in his thighs and ass. The fabric pooling right over his knees keeps him firm in place; he'd fall otherwise.

"Fuck" the General groans, rough fingertips caressing over Hunter's plump ass. "I can't wrap my head around how such a trained soldier can have such a pretty bubbly ass and thighs".

Hunter blushes and tries to hide under the courtain of his own hair; shivering upon the Jedi's caresses on his heated skin. He hears him untying his own pants; hears him divest his robes and his pants dropping onto the floor. He feels cold for a second before a new warmth presses back against his body; naked skin on naked skin feeling impossible delicious and exciting.

"You've got such soft thighs... It would be a mistake not to dedicate them some proper attention first, you know" he tells him, dick twitching where it's resting on the very top of Hunter's butt, and the smaller man shivers in his hands.

"W-what do you want me to do?" He asks, voice surprisingly meek for a firm confident person as him.

The Jedi answers with a pleasant sigh.

"Hold on" the man adjusts him and grabs himself with one hand, pushing his erection between Hunter's legs, hands then taking hold of the clone's surprisingly narrow waist. "There, now press your legs close together as tight as you can. I'm going to fuck your thighs".

Hunter moans and complies; a drop of precum on his own cock at the rush of desire and excitement of having the man between his legs, the General's dick big and hard pressing against the underside of his. God, this is...

"Good boy" he whispers over Hunter's ear. "Now stay right like that, and let me find pleasure in your body, little clone".

Hunter feels the last rational part of his mind vanishing. He whines loudly, arching like a slut, legs pressed together, letting the older man use his thighs like a warm sleeve toy for his cock. It brushes against his own, insistantly, one time after the other; and when Baylan bites a harsh nip on the side of his neck and orders him to stay quiet, Hunter trembles. And he finds himself starting to beg.

"Please" he whimpers, squirming involuntarily in the man's strong grip. "Please, Sir..."

Baylan groans. It's torture, the way the younger man looks so debauched in his arms; beautiful soft thighs trapping his erection and long hair moving with each thrust. Hunter is the prettiest man he's ever seen. He's strong and sexy; but simply pretty, too. His sweet chocolate eyes, the needy pout in his lips, the way his spine curves for him. So young, so inexperienced, so naive. Baylan aches to be inside of him as well.

"Sh, okay, soldier. Go lay down on the rucksack" he orders, taking a step back to watch him, and smirks in delight when the clone doesn't wait a single second to offer himself up to him.

Baylan strokes his cock while he watches him laying down; hunger spreading like a fire inside of him at Hunter's little trembles of excitement and uncertainty. Oh, Baylan's going to break him.

"Put something under your hips. I want to be able to fuck myself as deep as I can into you".

Hunter whimpers and nods; eyes scanning around before he grabs a backpack and pushes it under him. It's not the most comfortable; but they're not in a motel. This would do.

The Jedi finally kneels down; knees at both sides of Hunter's legs. He squeezes the soldier's ass in his hands twice; then plays along his crack. Hunter shivers; opening his legs wider.

"L-lube?" He has the mind to ask.

The Jedi holds up a hand; and a small bottle of bacta flies towards him. Hunter relaxes on top of the rucksack. Bacta is a common practice in the GAR.

"This will probably feel uncomfortable at first" the Jedi warns him, deciding to be particularly patient for the young one's first experience, at least for now. "Try to relax. I'm sure you'll grow to like it".

Hunter nods, and mentally braces himself for what's about to come. It is uncomfortable, as the Jedi said; but he had been so desperate to have more, to have something inside of him, it's almost a relief. He shushes his own sounds against his folded arm, closing his eyes and focusing in the small bliss.

Bayland doesn't even try to hit Hunter's prostate with his fingertips. He can feel the clone's emotions in the Force; desire and excitement swirling in a beautiful mix. He'd probably cum right on his fingers if he'd attempted it. Instead, the older man focuses on opening him up. He'd cum hugging his cock. He just needs to be a little patient.

Hunter whimpers when the General works him up to three fingers. He feels so full; and yet he still wants more. His hips are making tiny movements backwards; a silent request that the Jedi is quick to interpret.

"What is it, sergeant? Is this not enough for you?" He asks, voice rumbling behind him.

Hunter gives him a small moan and pushes his hips back. The Jedi hums.

"If you want my dick, you're going to have to ask for it".

His voice is firm, almost unbothered; it's so fucking sexy Hunter whines and arches his back in response, voicing his petition inmediately.

"Please General" he begs, breathless, fucking himself into his fingers. "I want your cock now".

The Jedi groans; directing Hunter's chin to the side so that he can kiss him deeply, swallowing the surprised sound that escapes the clone. Hunter sighs and melts into it. Baylan positions the tip of his dick against his entrance and takes the chance to slowly push it in.

Hunter whines and inmediately clenches at the intrusion; breaking the kiss apart and panting heavily.

"I know it's difficult to take" the older man whispers, nipping at his ear. "Breathe, Hunter, let yourself ease into it".

It's harder to do than to say; but the Jedi waits for him, and Hunter slowly relaxes around him. The General groans, and mumbles a few words of praise; hips moving in tiny tiny thrusts in and out. Hunter moans, eyes squeezed shut, trying to get used to all of this new sensations. He's so big... Hunter knows his ass is gonna' hurt tomorrow; and yet he's aching to experience more of it.

"I-I'm okay" he whispers, skin flushed, voice raspy.

Baylan smiles.

"I'll take your word for it" he answers, and the he all but pounds into him.

His long thick cock hits something deep inside of him –must be his prostate, he vaguely has the mind to process– and Hunter screams. It's muffled, his teeth biting into his own wrist; but still audible enough for people to probably hear it.

The Jedi chuckles and digs his fingertips in the younger man's hips; taking advantage of the heightened level given by the backpack under his hips to force himself deeper into him. Hunter pants like a bitch in heat. O-oh, fuck. This is wonderfull. This is so good, so good...

"So good..." he continues to voice out loud, not even aware of himself at the moment.

Baylan groans and changes positions after a few minutes; laying on top of him like a warm, heavy blanket and snapping his hips powerfully into him. The young clone moans; tears dripping down his cheeks at the mix of wonderfull emotions brought by this novelty.

"Such a tight hole" The Jedi grunts, his cock impossibly big inside Hunter's ass. "So beautifully submissive..."

Hunter whimpers.

The General moves back to stand on his knees again; dragging his body upwards as well. Suddenly, Hunter finds himself on hands and knees; the man's cock never leaving his insides for a single second. Although it's impossible, Hunter feels like he's gonna carve his insides with it's shape.

"That's it" the man groans, hands flying up to tangle with the clone's hair once more. "Take it, good boy".

Baylan is now fucking him with both hands taking a firm hold of his hair; drilling his cock against Hunter's prostate without a care in the world, as if the smaller man were his personal sex doll. As if he were nothing but a mindless animal; and he's so fucking turned on by all of it.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes!" He cries, a tiny, sweet voice he had never heard himself use before. "Sir, please!"

The Jedi groans and forces Hunter's neck down; pushing his upper body against the rucksack while his ass is still stuck up for him to play with.

"Mm. Want my cum, soldier?" He asks, railing Hunter's ass. "I'm a bit undecissive as where to release it. Should I paint your skin with it? Or do you want to feel my warm seed dripping inside of you?"

Hunter understands know why exactly some woman he'd fucked had begged him to cum as deep as he could in their pussy. He wants to be marked by him. Want to be filled to the brim. He's aware he's still a man, but for some reason... He's desperate to be bred by him.

"Inside" he begs, he's so close himself, he can tell. "I-inside, G-general, please..."

Baylan has never quite fucked someone so beautiful.

"You're not going to waist any drop? If I push my cum into you, I don't want it to go to waste".

Hunter cries.

"Please" his voice breaks. He's gonna' cum. He's gonna' cum, he's gonna' cum, he's gonna' cum... "Please, Sir!"

The Jedi groans and fucks himself deep into the clone's tight ass once, twice, before he's exploding and marking his insides with his seed.

"Take it" he grunts, mercilessly railing Hunter's prostate as his cock throbs inside his tight chanel. "Every. Last. Drop. That's it. Good boy".

Hunter whines and cums. A rush of electric pleasure zaps inside of him; spreading from his prostate all the way down to the very tip of his toes. He cries, moans and whimpers; body trembling and asshole clenching on Baylan's spent cock, his warm seed pooling inside of him.

It's so good. So much pleasure. Such a relief...

Hunter sighs, slumps, and just a quiet minute later, falls asleep.

The older man chuckles, eyes flickering over the young clone's exhausted but pleased face; finally pulling out of him. He watches his cum attempting to drip out of him; and unable to help himself, pushes it back inside with his fingers. Hunter whimpers and squirms; but his eyes remained close, exhaustion too prevalent. They had been fighting a battle for a week, after all, and clones can't draw energy from the Force.

The Jedi caresses his hair fondly in a moment of weakness and moves to rest next to him.

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The next morning, when the Batch is ready to make their way back to Corusscant in the Marauder to be redirected for another dangerous mission, Baylan offers his hand to the clone courteously.

"May the Force be with you, sargeant Hunter" and with a teasing smirk that brings a blush on the man's bronze skin adds. "It was a pleasure to have you".

THE END.

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PS. Can you tell I really ended up liking this pair? xD

[usafphantom2]

P-8A Posideon

[nyxi33]

[1800titz]

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ — ᴅᴇɢʀᴀᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ & ᴘʀᴀɪꜱᴇ

KNEELING LAMIA | Witch hunter!Harry x Witch!reader

There's too much tension in this cat-and-mouse. Inevitably, it stretches too taut and snaps.

★18+

This is ᴋɴᴇᴇʟɪɴɢ ʟᴀᴍɪᴀ for the KINKTOBER projects. Witch x Witch hunter au.

If you enjoy this, consider checking out my patreon masterlist, constantly being updated, with loads of exclusive content. If you would like to see the other KINKTOBER projects and join the taglist for upcoming projects, do so here.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: enemies. p-in-v. degradation. praise. pussy slapping (light). dom/sub undertones. rough sex. bro is simply kind of an asshole, but it's in an attractive way imo.

WC: 3.7K

You hate him. 

You hate him, you hate the grease in his derisory, lopsided smile, the one, two-tick at the corners of his mouth, like an omen on the hollow barrel of a cocked gun. The stupid white straightness of them, slick with spit and glimmering off the glowing oil lantern. 

The soft humanness in his unchiseled eyes. When they’re narrowed into slits, the color is so soft, so delicate, that they don’t feel nearly as sharp as he intends. The preternatural juxtaposition of a human having eyes that are so mesmerizing is absurd— the pink-rimmed oil painting of his irises, mounted in white, under the tarp of his lashes (they’re long, dark, and cast shadows across the green sfumato). You can nearly find sunstones flecking like gold flakes wading the surface of a pool, if you look close enough.

But the bands are eroded now. Lacking. You always thought his eyes were like the moss speckling the grove in your back garden. Now, the vibrancy of it, crawling up the trunks, feels like a distant memory.

Smeared, pupils bleeding wide like spilled ink. 

(You loathe the way his green reminds you of the malachite scattered across your window sill.)

You hate his hands, too. His fingers. The way they notch on reins, and the steel hilt of a gun. The way his pointer stretches across the metal trigger— click— and the way the aim is off. Misses. A trunk eats the bullet, and you think, after so many tries, he has to not miss.

He has to not miss.

But he misses, and misses, and misses— the cat and mouse is an old, familiar game, but a fractured part of you thinks he misses on purpose. And you wonder who’s really the cat; when he’ll finally admit you’ve been filling his shoes out in the hunt, long before his time. 

But you hate his hands most because of the way they touch you. The way they feel good. Pinching your bones in place, thumbprints carving into your skin. 

Pressure points— he’s no good with a gun, but he’s good at finding pressure points, scoping them with his fingertips. Squeezing in. 

You hate his teeth, because you hate him, and he hates you, and you want to sweep them off the floor when you fracture every little bone in the composite of his skull with your palms and shatter them out with your fingers. The way they chew into your nipples and stab a crushed squeak out of you. 

(It’s the nature of the game— a double helix. Taijitu. Water and oil. You’re meant to despise each other, because dark has to exist to balance light. There has to be a villain in every story, otherwise the narrative collapses—)

You can’t stand the way his stupidly fat cock splits you on him, around him. The way when he groans, the way it starts as a hum between his ribs, and metastasizes into that yawning pry of his mouth, his soft lips. 

(Conflict. Resolution. Recycle.)

His hand pawing at a handful of your breast, like kneading dough. Testing the heft when it shakes under the pressure of his hips slamming in wet squelches, sack slapping to your sticky cunt. The blunt of his nails scraping down your sides, prying in where your waist tapers, and wrapping the barbs of his fingers around, where the rungs sit at your back, to lug you against him in filthy, wet smacks. Again— again. 

(Fuck, fuck, fuck—)

“—Fuck,” you mewl, scratching out at his temple, fingertips curling into the burnt umber tufts they can reach, pulling, tangling. Scraping. Your thumb grazes his cheekbone. He bites down on your nipple, instead, where he’s been rolling it between his teeth with his tongue, and grunts. It makes you squirm on the table and arch.

When he unlatches and lurches up to loom over you, he looks wild. Like an untamed beast— reminds you of the wolf that lingers by your doorstep— that you’ve lugged along into your kitchen. Let him splay you across the big, oak table that squeals and rattles under the punishing pace he’s set with his hips. 

“Fuck— no,” Harry grunts, and slams your wrist down onto the table, beside your head, your stuttering pulse. Cuffed in his grip. Your fingers twitch. His throat bobs when he swallows.

The tip of his tongue flicks out, drags across his lips, and you think of a scenting serpent. He huffs.

“Ought to declaw you,” he muses, hunching over you, narrowed eyes oscillating from your nails to your face. Voice a husk that oozes condescension. As if you’re an animal— a feral cat that needs its talons extracted. 

“Fuck you,” you spit, and the words— the petulant tone, the way your chest rattles when his cock throbs inside of you— are enough to crook the corners of his pink mouth. Wry. Acid across his lips, in the ridges between his teeth. 

He sticks his thumb in your mouth, but not really; presses in against the flat of your front tooth when you bare your canines, squeezing at your cheeks. Pressure points— under the side of your mandible, beneath your cheekbone.

“Better watch that mouth,” he taunts. When his eyebrows climb, three ruckles seep across his forehead. Maybe evidence of how he means it, how firm his resolve is, but the way he tips his head down at you, it's goading—

Your chest rolls. “Fuck— you.”

And you get it. You do. Coexisting is an absurd, incompatible fantasy. Deluded, when you cup your teeth around the world and still feel hungry. It only stretches so wide before he’s under your teeth, too, and nobody wants to live in a hungry, sharp mouth. It’s a means of resource. Sanctum; I want sanctum, and you my friend, are preventing that like gum jammed into a lock on a gate. 

This slow dance is called perfect, incongruous symbiosis, like a winter coat and the hot sun. You don’t fit together. You’ll never work— not in tandem. 

It’s just that he doesn’t get that it’s the circle of life.

A snake and a mouse. That works. It’s unpleasant, but it doesn’t have to be watched. 

But it’s ugly. You get the angry men with the pitchforks. You get him— vigilante, here to stab the head off the python with a wooden stick and wring his hands out after, like the hero he’ll be if he manages to tame the beast (glorified pest control— snub the snake in the backyard). You accepted a long time ago that all the little people would get mad that you were eating their little people. 

Nasty, vicious thing in the back garden— get rid of it.  

But hey— that’s life. The ugly, vicious wasp nest dangling off a poplar tree deserves to exist, too, because that’s the anomalous, hideous shape mother nature’s hand squeezed it into. And that’s, you think, the disconnect. The electrical cord spitting white-hot, fizzing sparks from where it’s been gnawed down the middle.

You swallow. His eyes are blade-sharp. Contemplating, calculating.

You get all that. What you can’t wrap your mind around is the untethered snap between you, like a bungee cord lugging you into a collision. It makes you feel feverish. The fracture in the foundation below you, every atom bred from this, predestined narrative. The sizzle beneath your skin— a charred brand in the shape of his kiss under the layers of your skin— (a lowly mimicry of what lovemaking is, all teeth). It’s brutal. Sharp. A skirt of canines across your collarbone. A notch across the bone. A means to satiate, a compound of loathing, and pining, and the cozening haze of desire. The yearning curdled in the spiral of the communal pool of your animosity.   

Because he smells like the rain rapping across your roof when you stand out with the door propped, sticking to the fireweed in rivulets under your porch steps. Like suede. Musk. The wilting coriander sprig on your altar. Your resolve is wicker snapping under his thumb. A melting glacier under the heavy heat dripping from his eyes. You don’t like it. You can’t get enough.

You tip your chin up and his thumb snags on the blunt edges, smushes into your lower lip. When his heavy cock slips out of you and slaps up against his belly, a whine prickles at the back of your mouth. You encase it with your throat like a dirty secret left to write on paper. You won’t whine for him. But he’s thick. His cock is stupidly fat, and it throbs like he can feel the encroaching emptiness between your legs for himself. 

You won’t whine, but you feel hollow, and it makes your hips cant up involuntarily. Forward. To him— you hate that— but the stamp of his palm to your cunt makes your thought process crumble apart like notes plummeting off their bars on a sheet of music. A smack of skin on skin is the aria of your twisted affection stretching and collapsing. 

It doesn’t hurt. Not really. There’s a dull pang that blooms there, under his touch, but it feels smothered under the white-hot lightning streak of shock that jolts your shoulders and sculpts your face. The mortified, blistering heat that spumes your cheeks when the whites of your eyes pool a little wider. You flounder up at him wordlessly. 

Harry hums. It’s haughty, and mocking, and it makes something ripple in your underbelly. “Say that again, little girl?”

You swallow. Squirm. The pseudonym has something bristling in your chest. You’re not a little girl. This thicket has belonged to you for hundreds of years. 

But the warm prickle between your thighs is an ugly, ugly paradox. 

And you hate the way his hand is this humongous thing between your thighs, across your sex, swallowing your smarting cunt in the cup of his palm. The way he leaves it where it landed. His thumb stretched out and lingering in the crease between your mons and your tucked up thigh. You hate the way you drool slick against his fingers, the way your clit pulses under the heel of his hand. Your chest rolls. 

His amusement is acidic. Patronization sloshes off his eyes and burns a hole right through the layer of your mettle when he cocks his head down at you, the way your hips hitch. His lips twist. “Oh you liked that, did you?”

Your face pinches. The corners of your lips curl down despite the way your empty pussy flutters under his skin.

“No."

He makes a sound. A hum that granulates into a rich chuckle, and his eyes flicker off your face, to his hand, and back, and back. Something brews in the depths under his lashes, you think— a sinkhole cratering into the ground beneath the canopy of the woods, driving the forest ground out into a void— watching the breadth of his hand envelop between your thighs. Maybe at the molten heat, or the way he can undeniably feel you clenching up. Throbbing. Against him. For him. 

“Is that right? Look at that, mm— drippy, little pussy,” Harry tells you, voice hardly over a whisper. The words are a livewire zigzagging up your spine, riding the arches of the knobs, spilling something noxious and cloudy along your cerebrospinal fluid. 

It goes straight to your head. 

“Needy, little cunt. Bet you could cum just from me slapping it.”

His middle finger grazes your asshole. Your toes curl, you can’t even argue, despite the vitriol puddling on the back of your tongue like stagnant water. He tips his head. Smiles. The flash of teeth carves an ache into you that makes your bones ring.

“Aren’t you… just the sweetest thing when you’re put in your place,” Harry murmurs down at you, eyebrows climbing, and he’s— unctuous. A headache. The kind that clusters around the arch of your skull and squeezes taut like a bundle of rubber bands. Talking down to you like you’re a wily thing for him to put into a corner, once and for all. Like your demesne isn’t stamped in his soggy footprints, layer after layer, year after year.

You bare your teeth and jut your chin defiantly, but then he drags his thumb down along your pebbled clit, and it makes your shoulders wobble. 

You used to cut hunters down like the loggers muscling in on your timber. Hatred was a pearl folded into your heart. A bead tucked into the soft, fleshy tissue between the little pockets of your ventricles, and it stung like a splinter in your gums. 

You wear it in your chest like his name shaved into a rib. The perfect harmony of dysfunction. You don’t know why being under him kindles a flame. Just that it does. He’s live coal, and you crackle over what he gives you.

The moment of silence between you has that shattering weight of your little truce, and you’re reminded of the plunge from the hillscape of your dignity. 

Maybe it’s worse that you don’t mind. 

His shoulders swell. You like the spit-slick rim of his mouth, the way the color is an insignia of your teeth making landfall. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl?”

When he plants his hand beside your ear and stretches forward a little more, his cockhead slips across your clit. Hot, like a firebrand coated in sateen. You curl your fingers and realize your wrist is still pinned down. His eyes sway to it like he knows what you’re thinking, and his mouth twitches.

“Gonna keep your hands to yourself?” Harry purrs, grunting when you roll your chin away in scorn. 

“Because—“ His finger prods onto your cheek. Then, two. Under your jaw, enough pressure to turn your head. “You know I love that wild shit. But, can’t have you fucking up my pretty face—“

The humor coagulating his tone tastes bitter when you breathe it from the air. Swallowing it down into your lungs where it ghosts with the subatomic heaviness of want. Your eyes flit. You hate him— you hate—

He grins down at you. Not quite. Close-lipped, eyes vats that shelter his dogma. The intensity of his seriousness. “Can’t do that,” he muses, but his tone is softer than his countenance. 

You look away. And you don’t watch it, but he huffs, like he’s losing patience for your still-not-quite-subservience and lack of zeal. His nostrils flare as he takes a deep breath. Hums. 

“Mm. Come on, doll. You know I don’t want you if you don’t want me,” he tells you, but his mouth crooks because he knows— he knows. 

You blink up at him. His eyes burn down at you from the bridge of his nose, and it feels like you’ve been swaddled into a sudden, wet heatwave. The words would nearly be considerate if it wasn’t for the condescending undertow that spills under the vowels like an oil slick. 

His pointer traces the corner of your mouth, brows furrowing as he tails the motion with his gaze. “Just you say the word.”

And despite the way you blister, something itching under your skin, you won’t. Your teeth are clenched, but you couldn’t pry them apart with pliers to turn him down, not with the fever spilling its way across you. You settle for contempt— let it set your face like a cast congealing, but he doesn’t chase the tail of your indignation with anything beyond mockery. 

He stares back at you. Doesn’t let it wither, drowns in the deluge of your inkpools, mouth curling but-not-quite. 

“No,” he sighs, after a beat of your lull— bereft of your protest— drawing his forefinger away and slinking it down the naked space of your sternum, then around your swollen nipple. You gnaw into your cheek. “You know what I think?”

“—I don’t care,” you pick your head up to hiss. 

You expect to face something crumbling at the retort. Discipline. Retribution— to watch something clot inside of him the way it wads in your chest, caking gravity across his features because— need to be taught a lesson in respect. What did I say about watching that mouth? 

But it flickers over him without a hitch. Slides off. 

Instead, he doubles down, hunching back over you. “I think you love this cock too much. Don’t you? Got you wrapped around it, by now.”

The flame from your core licks up to flare at the apples of your cheeks. He breathes when he straightens out. Deep. Like the prelude to a sigh, and you wonder if the same burning kisses along the nooks of his lungs. You don’t say anything, and he pulls his hand back.

“That’s right,” Harry coos, cocking his head down at you, “Just a sweet, cockdrunk, little whore, by now.”

Your eyes narrow into thin slits. Dagger splits. The wobble in your voice is a swordblade. “Shut— up.”

He laughs. Laughs. This muted, soundless thing that manifests more in his shoulders, the jolt across their breadth. The crater beside a smile line. He shakes his head, and cups the root of his cock with his fist. Your eyes follow it. You swallow.

“Mm, no,” he muses, gaze pooling where the mushroomed ridges of his tip slide along your sopping rim, your puffy lips, your clit, “I think you like it. Gushing all over the table.”

Embarrassment ties its tendrils along the base of your throat. Cogon grass germinating and feathering out across your esophagus, until you’re choking on your spit. You grit your teeth. Your hips nudge up. Forward. He underscores the presumption by pulling the head of his cock back, and sundering the string of tacky slick that’d stretched between him and your seam.

“Makin’ a fucking mess with your messy, desperate pussy,” Harry tells you, pressing his index to his thumb and prying them apart for emphasis. Your slick shimmers in the light. “Look at you. There’s a fuckin’ puddle.”

Your face creases. Cheeks buzzing, white-hot. You feel yourself leaking down along the cleft of your ass, and your fingers itch. A thunderbolt streaks across when you recognize that your hand is still flat against the table. Just where he left it. 

He aims his cock back against you, so thick in his palm, and murmurs, “You want it?”

You don’t know how you ended up here.

You do, but the motions between point A and B feel like a nebulous smear. Hands in motion. Fabric tangling across the floor. Teeth, and tongues, and bones, and claws.

(“Always liked an older woman,” you remember he told you, tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek. The hubris of a boy sewn into the shoulders of a man. The irony of your preternatural youth folded into his proposition as his eyes roamed across your face.)

(“So let’s put …this,” a motion between with a jutted finger, a murmur drizzled in allure, tucked like a secret into the shape of the night, “aside for a time-out, you and me.”)

You don’t know why you said yes. How. Why your body reacts like he’s a breath you need, whispering along your lungs. Why you let him unspool you over his fingers, his tongue, fucking into you like he was starving. 

But you nod.

You nod, and he presses his weepy tip against your cunt, and it only takes a nudge for him to pry you open around him again. Enveloping him. Sloppy, little pussy pulsing over the tip like a frenetic heartbeat. 

You turn your chin and bite into your own shoulder to stifle the mewl spiraling between your tonsils, and he groans. The sting is better the second-go, but the pressure of having your rim stretched taut anew doesn’t lose its edge. The ache settles in your underbelly. Flourishes in the molten geyser of your arousal. 

“Oh, shit,” Harry hums, pasting his palm flat to your tummy, right over your navel. Like this, you can feel his fingertips under your heartbeat. Across it. Thrumming. His eyes glued to where you swallow up his cock.

He feeds his cock into you slow, but it feels incongruous. The pastiche of what you’re feeling is already enough to cloud your head into delirium— you want teeth. Tongues, bones, claws. 

“Harder,” you grit, catching his eye when he stalls, hand braced across your waist. You resolve paints your words firm, “I can take it.” 

For a moment, Harry stares down at you. The whiplash of pause morphing to taunt, like a seamless rebound, has your rim fluttering over his girth. “My, my. Aren’t we eager.”

“Just—“

Your cosm ripples around you when he drives his hips forward, and lugs you back, hips colliding with your skin in a smack. A horrible, wet sound when he crams his way in, wedging your fuss back into the depth of your stomach. It flings you off your rationale. 

He shivers. “God, you’re slutty. Slutty pussy on a slutty witch.”

The pace he sets is brutal. Merciless. It caters to your complaint, and squashes it out under his thumb. Under the kiss of his tip to your womb. Deliriously, you think he’s going to spill his hot, thick load inside of you, and then what? Then, what?

It feels like he’s wringing you out between his hands, until all that’s left is a pool of want. 

You hate the way he’s chiseled in a place for himself. A tern across your branches, nested in twine and spare filaments of organs that belong to you. A little sinew peeled off of your liver. A sliver off your lung. Maybe that’s why—

You suck in a tight breath and let it rattle the nest he’s built, when he hits something unfathomably deep inside of you. Plugged on his cock, there’s no way for you to smother your moans out. He batters in to the hilt, cupping you by the waist, and rocking you back onto him, over, and over, and over. 

“I want this sweet pussy to cum around my cock,” he pants over you. A curl has flopped across his eye, and your ire is eclipsed by your yearning. The ball inside of you unspooling as if he’s peeling the layers of muscle on your heart back like an onion to temporarily pluck out the undiluted loathing. “Do you hear me?”

It’s a mindless motion— your fingers creeping to land over where you connect, where he’s splitting your gummy walls to what feels like their ceiling. But he bats your hands away, and rams into you until your mons is kissing the wiry bed of hair that’s smattered over his shaft.

“It’s gonna cum around my cock,” he grunts, “or it’s not gonna cum at all.”

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[mona-risms]

imagine Rumi trying to be dominant only to immediately fold when met with resistance 🤭

Oh girl 😭 it's over for her

Her reference for trying to be the dominant one is the fact that she's the leader, and honestly probably has grown up to BE a leader considering Celine's training and how HUNTR/X was built around her. So honestly the fact that you end up reversing it on her will have her head SPINNINGGGGG

Imagine her trying to pin you down but she finds herself actually STRUGGLING—dare I even say you even switch it up so that SHE'S the one getting pinned with no way out—and her pupils go absolutely BLOWN black at the sudden strength difference

But that's only ifl you're also a demon or you're really hench, bc I seriously doubt you'd be able to overpower her physically (they're HUNTERS ffs, not to mention Rumi's HALF-DEMON). But otherwise, if you nudge your knee between her thighs and have her grind on it? Move your head to nip on Rumi's ear before whispering about how you'd love to see just how she plans on pleasing you? Oh she's GONE she's like stunned and her cheeks glow like her demon markings LMFAO

And if you take that opportunity to twist your roles around? Even better bc she's Completely short-circuiting and won't actually process what's going on until a moan leaves her lips from you just biting lightly on her collarbone. This girl isn't used to NOT taking point and just relaxing and letting go, considering how she's been raised to take guard and take front (even her fucking WEAPON indicates that, since the glaive is more mid-range, the knives are long-range, and Rumi's sword is SHORT-RANGE), so it'd definitely be a new feeling for her

A Very good feeling too, especially when she realises she can turn her brain off and take what you give her as you guide her through everything and eat her out until her senses go to mush 🥰🥰🥰🥰

[the-black-manor]

Little pet that's too shy to ask to have their intestines rearranged, so they sit between my legs and nuzzle at my cock instead, getting me worked up until I can't control myself anymore, pin them down, force myself inside, and breed them deep.

[niilue]

pounding sub!illumi to oblivion as we readers watch his emotionless facade fall. he’s moaning out and sobbing for more and that’s exactly what we give him until he’s moaning/whining out of overstimulation. you can add whatever more you want to this!

have a good day!💗

ෆ    ִ      ׁ   sub illumi

cw: dom!reader, male top, breeding kink, voice kink, illumi needy and vocal

illumi's emotionless facade had always been his defining trait, a mask of stoicism that rarely, if ever, faltered. but now, that mask was crumbling. you had him pinned beneath you, his body trembling as you pounded into him relentlessly. his long black hair clung to his sweat-slicked skin, and his usually impassive face was contorted in pleasure.

each thrust elicited a moan from illumi, the sound growing louder and more desperate with every movement. his voice, usually so controlled, was now a symphony of whimpers and sobs, a melody that spurred you on. you knew exactly how to break him, and you reveled in the power you held over him.

"more," he gasped, his voice barely a whisper. "please... more."

you obliged, increasing your pace, driving into him with a force that made the bed creak. his legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, deeper. every thrust pushed him closer to the edge, his body quivering with the intensity of it all.

"look at you," you murmured, leaning down to kiss the tears from his cheeks. "begging for it like a good boy."

illumi's eyes fluttered open, wide and glassy with need. the once cold, emotionless gaze was now filled with a raw, unfiltered desire. he moaned louder, his hands clawing at your back, leaving red marks in their wake. he was a moaning, whining mess, his voice a mixture of broken cries and breathless pleas.

"please," he sobbed. "please, i can't..."

but you didn't let up. you kept going, pushing him beyond his limits, watching as his composure shattered completely. his moans turned into screams, his body writhing beneath you as he came, his orgasm ripping through him with a force that left him trembling.

but you weren't done. not yet. you continued to thrust into him, even as he whined in overstimulation, his body convulsing with every movement. the overstimulation was exquisite, his mind a blur of pleasure and pain. he could barely form coherent thoughts, let alone words, and the only thing that escaped his lips were broken cries and sobs.

"you wanted this," you reminded him, your voice a low growl in his ear. "you begged for it."

he nodded weakly, unable to speak, his body completely at your mercy. you leaned down, pressing your lips to his ear. "i'm going to fill you up," you whispered. "breed you until you can't take anymore."

illumi's eyes rolled back in his head at your words, another sob escaping his lips. the thought of being filled, claimed, bred— it drove him wild. he was lost in the sensation, his body a puppet to your desires.

you felt him tighten around you, and with one final, powerful thrust, you came, filling him with your seed. the sensation pushed illumi over the edge once more, his body convulsing as he came again, his voice hoarse from screaming.

you stayed like that for a moment, both of you breathing heavily, your bodies entwined. then you pulled out, watching as your cum dripped from his spent body, a proof to your domination.

illumi lay there, his chest heaving, his face flushed and tear-streaked. he looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of exhaustion and satisfaction. he was a mess, a beautiful, broken mess, and you knew you had pushed him to his limits.

but he had wanted it. he had begged for it. and you had given him exactly what he craved.

[goryhorroor]

horror sub-genres: mythological

[livelaughlovesubs]

Nini, what about vampire Fyodor x vampire hunter reader (〜^∇^)〜 like you’ve been assigned to hunt down and bring the head of Fyodor Dostoevsky to uhh.. a king idk.

So you track Fyodor down and instead make a deal with him. You won’t kill him and actually let him feed off you and he lets you fuck him (ゝз╹)

At first he’s hesitant. A well ranked hunter coming to him and proposing a friends with benefits arrangement sounds pretty suspicious, but hearing the offer that you let him feed off you makes him agree since it’s an easy meal and he was planning on betraying you later on.

Thats until he’s bent down on all fours and being pounded like wild animals in heat. The vampire is so touch starved that he can’t handle the pleasure and tries biting anything he can (let’s just say you were left with a bunch of bite marks) After that experience he traps you in his manor and begs you to stay with him, maybe he turns you into a vampire as well

-🍮

I had so much fun writing this haha, and I had to brainstorm trying to fill in some plot holes

Dom!reader x sub!vampire!fyodor

Warning: teasing, pet name (lil’ vamp), pegging (I use dick), a tiny bit of dacryphilia, biting, hierophilia (blood), vampirism, contract sex

Edit: I think I’m based towards fyodor, this ended up so long again-

You were a mercenary, one specified in hunting down those bloodsucking monsters known as vampires. Your name was infamous among the humans and vampire race, known for your amazing methods and efficient execution. Though you don’t care much about fame, the only good things about it is it lands you many missions. Which is why you’ve been summoned to the castle of a faraway country, one that resides close to a forbidden forest.

These mysterious forests are strictly forbidden due to vampires living within them. It’s always dark and quiet in those places, befitting their taste. So you might think it’s alright if people just don’t go into the woods. Sadly something like that can’t be prevented. There are many valuable resources beneath these trees, and everyone is dying to get their hands on those. The price for material from the forest is also really high, and sometimes that’s the only hope for the commoners.

Even though it’s been agreed upon that humans shall not disturb the vampires for they own safety, your client, the king, wanted to raid the forest. He had his eyes set on the wood planted around the mansion of the monster, it had a beautiful dark colour and was very sturdy. Yet out of fear for the power of the entity, he didn’t dare set a single foot into the woods. That’s when you come into the spotlight, he wanted you, the most famous vampire hunter, to take care of this. Once the vampire is gone, he won’t be breaking any rules, right?

This was a common case for you, everyone used you to do their dirty work. That’s the life of a mercenary, disposable and self-destructive.

You walked through the lavish halls of the king, meeting him in his throne hall. He didn’t spare you more then one glance, shouting loud enough for his voice to bounce off the walls, “y/n, vampire hunter. I have an honorary task for you. I want you to bring me the head of the demon Fyodor Dostoyevsky and for that you’ll be greatly rewarded.”

Despite it sounding grandiose and imposing you knew how to stand your ground, asking for the exact amount you’ll be rewarded and an advance payment. The king on the other hand refused to answer, saying he doesn’t want you to run off with the money. What a joke, your previous feats aren’t just for show after all. There was no helping it, that’s life. You swallowed your anger and left, rolling your eyes as you prepared to set off.

The home of that demon was grande, almost as huge as the castle, he sure loved luxury. You circled around the house to secure your escape route before heading inside, the door opened with a climatic creak. What a cliche, does vampires not know how to take care of their home? Without sparing it too much thought, you stepped inside and called out for that monster, wondering why the ruler knew his name. They must have a long history between them.

“Fyodor! Heyyy, come out, do me a favour and make this easy.” You yelled, and soon enough, a shadow emerged from behind you. Before you got the chance to turn around, he mumbled with grace and elegance, “Y/n, the vampire’s greatest enemy. The one who pulled out the fangs of Dracula with your bare hand, and forced him to drink the blood of his comrades.” A shiver ran down your spine at his voice, it was low and pretty, enough to stir something inside you.

“That’s an exaggeration, I never did such things.” You turned around and chuckled, staring into his purple eyes. Before you stood a black haired young man with a puffy shirt and fitted pants. He wore many silver accessories, tons of necklaces hung around his neck. His appearance was very eye-catching, pretty features and pale skin, sickly so. “…but I may have a record of flirting with the enemy.” After seeing how beautiful he was, you decided to indulge yourself, flirting with him.

He didn’t pay your words any attention, instead he continued with his speech, “Mortal children strived to be like you, while we use your stories to scare the kids.” You stopped, a sense of pride engulfing you from the inside. “My, I am quite famous after all.” Fyodor furrowed his brows, as if he’s agitated, then he relaxed his expression and said, “I knew you’d come for me one day. And, I’m dying to try out your blood.” After saying that, he licked his lips before covering his mouth with his hand.

You laughed, catching him off guard. The sound of your voice was annoying, he felt like you were mocking him. Then you teased, “dear, do you really think you can touch my blood?” That was clearly a provocation, you looked down on him. He clicked his tongue, glaring at you. The moment you blinked, he rushed over to you, planning on taking you out with one swoop attack. You dodged him with ease, commenting, “not bad, but is this all?” And he ignored your remarks once more.

Seeing how serious he was, you’ll have to stop the joking soon as well. To be honest you weren’t in the mood for fighting, which is why you suggested, “How about this, fyodor-” “I didn’t give you permission to use my name.” He snapped, showing his fangs. “…then, lil’ vamp it is.” You chuckled, noticing how that pet name annoyed him further. “How about a deal? I’ll spare your life and you can have as much of my blood as I’m able to give you.” His pointy ears perked, intrigued by this proposal. It sounded enticing, but there’s nothing for free in this world.

“And what do you get out of this?” Fyodor asked, keeping his distance. He wasn’t going to heed the rules of a deal anyway, especially when made with a human. “Allow me to be a bit crude, but I want you to sell your body to me.” The boy froze in place, eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Were you aware of the implications of your own words? Was this another one of your mockery, your way of insulting him? “What makes you think I’d agree?” He questioned you, staring at your face with his scarlet eyes, trying to read you.

“I’m simply proposing a deal, you can decline or agree, it’s up to you.” Somehow you managed to sound unbothered and cheery despite the situation. No matter how fyodor wanted to decline, he knew this was his chance. If you fought with him seriously, he would eventually lose. Now, with you giving him new opportunities, he had to take them and put it to good use. “I’ll accept this for now, so, show me how sincere you are.” The demon demanded, and you answered with, “my pleasure, please show me to your room.”

Who would have known a day like this would come, where he got shoved into his own room, pinned to his own bed and humiliated in front of a human. It didn’t take long until you got him bend over on all fours, face pressed into his soft pillows. Any of his attempts to overpower you were futile, because you were physically stronger than him. That allowed you to pretty much manhandle him, denying him access to your neck. Once you got him into this vulnerable position, you didn’t held yourself back, asking him one last time if your deal still stands. After he nodded, you went all in.

Now you were breathing heavily while slowly entering his hole. His rim was tight and didn’t allow you any entrance, but you stayed stubborn, gently pushing your way in. “You are so tight, lil’ vamp.” You muttered, occasionally glancing over at him to see how well his reaction is. “Nghhh…! S-slow down, it hurts!” Fyodor groaned, cheeks flushed red as he realized the situation he was in, and that he never shared such intimate moments with anyone before. “…if I go any slower I wouldn’t be moving anymore.” You tried to reason with him, leaning down to press your body against his.

“HnnGh… t-then pull out…” He snarled, glaring at you while he felt your skin against his back, pressing him down, reminding him of your presence. How did things turn out like this? Why was he participating in such vulgar acts with his greatest enemy…? “Do you want me to? Then you won’t get my blood as well.” You whispered into his ear, licking his earlobe and the earring he wore. “Ha-haahhhH…! No, d-don’t.” The boy gasped, and you weren’t sure what he meant. But he seems to be enjoying himself, so you continued.

His hands gripped the white sheets with all the remaining strength he had, his ass reddened as he struggled to take you whole. That poor guy’s entire body was shivering, shaking as he tried to get used to this pressing sensation inside him. He could feel you stretching him apart, rubbing against his squishy walls. You smiled as you observed his efforts, one hand clasped over his hand as you intertwining your fingers with his. He had sharp nails, you could even call them claws. So you were worried that he’d poke holes into his sheets.

Your other hand explored his body, trailing down his spine with your fingertips, brushing over his body as if you were caressing a flower. “Hmm..! Uh-uhhng..! It f-feels weird..” It tickled him, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable, at least he thinks it wasn’t. Next, you stroke his silky hair before grabbing his hip and mumbling tenderly, “you are doing good, don’t worry I plan on being nice for today.” What do you mean for today…?

Soon, your hips met with his, and you stopped moving until you were sure he was alright. “Good job.” You said, rubbing his blushing cheeks slightly. Then you held your wrist right in front of him, inviting him to bite you, giving him your approval. Without any once of hesitation, he sunk his teeth into your flesh, sucking viciously. He was feeling so weak from your actions, he needed that replenishment. Since he was distracted, you took that chance to start moving again, making sure to take your sweet time. Well, he looked like he’d break if you weren’t gentle with him. He had such a slim and frail physic after all. Just look at his waist, it’s so skinny you fear you could accidentally break him into two pieces.

Fyodor suck on your wrist, mind getting cloudy from the taste of your sweet blood. It tasted amazing, and it made him feel all foggy inside. As if he was getting drunk on it, addicted even. He made sure not to waste a single drop, lips pressed against your skin while he gulped down more and more of your vitality. Apparently he was so distracted he didn’t notice you pounding his cute ass, not until it was too late. You fucked him slowly but roughly, each time you’d thrust yourself as deep inside him as you could, feeling him clench around you so sweetly.

“HnMnh, nghh…” the vampire only whimpered meekly as he sipped your blood contently, feeling pleasure blossom everywhere inside him. You eventually quickened your pace, now rutting into him without any care in the world. It was instantly met with his mewling, a high pitched noise as he screamed in ecstasy. Fyodor couldn’t pull his thoughts together, tongue hanging out as some tears rolled down his face.

Then you pulled your wrist away from him, saying, “that’s enough for now. If you want more, you gotta work hard.” His eyes bore such a pitiful look as he begged you for more, face melting as he moaned around you, some of your blood sticking to his lips. “Ahhh… it felt so good, I-i don’t wanna stop..” he admit, hands shaking underneath you, his primal urges kicking in, infesting his desires and hunger.

“What is it that you want, fyodor?” The way you voiced his name made his knees go weak, tremble even. He panted heavily, trying to fill his lungs with air, to keep his composure. “I-I want more blood… I want your blood.” You smiled, seeing him so desperate fed into your own desires. And you felt like if you denied him any longer he was going to cry, considering his eyes were getting watery already. “Then come here, lil’ vamp.” You told him and wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him closer to you as you sat up, positioning him in your lap.

His first response was to whine as he arched his back forwards, legs turning into pudding as his hands shakily let go of the sheets, now clutching your thighs. “Ah-nGhh.. it’s so- so deep inside me.. it’s so foreign..?” Out of nowhere you turned him over, and he wanted to immediately bite your neck, but you covered his mouth with your palm. “Not yet.” As soon as he understood what you wanted, he wrapped his arms around your neck, bouncing up and down your dick like he was in heat. Your hand was still over his lips, so his moans all got muffled as they seeped through, “mHhnff, HnnGh, hmm…!!”

He rode you with fever and need. On one hand because he needed you and your blood on a carnal level, on the other hand due to him starting to enjoy getting fucked by you. After a while you took your hand away from him, now squeezing his waist with both hands, guiding his movements. Fyodor nuzzled against your neck, pleading with you, hoping you’d let him have some of that delicious red liquid again. “Y/n.. ah-huuHhn~ l-let me fed off you..? P-please..♡♥︎～?” You giggled to yourself, entertained and delighted, duty all pushed to the side as you said, “go on, take as much as you need.”

Needless of say, you two shared a long night together, and somehow, both of you ended up in endless love bites. Ops, what’s this? Oh no, his door is stuck! It must be because it’s so old~ oh no, seems you’ll have to stay at the mansion longer than expected… and his impending heat is coming up ♡

My friend send me this after I told them what I was writing haha

[l1tw1ck]

Saw you write for hxh, I was wondering if you could do something with Feitan x dom male reader, anything. There’s barely any content like that.

sub!bottom!ftm feitan x dom!top!male reader

this super duper short, srry

cw: mild dub-con, rope bondage, aphrodisiacs, nipple play, creampie

Feitan wakes up in an unknown bedroom, naked and wrapped in black ribbons. He looks up at you in confusion, his vision blurry and cheeks flushed. “What's going on?”

You look at the card attached to the end of the ribbon and chuckle. ‘Merry Christmas – Chrollo’. “Looks like Chrollo sent me a late Christmas gift.” You lick your lips. “Can't believe you've been hiding a body like this all this time.”

He realizes what's going on, his body growing even hotter. He's definitely been drugged but he can't say that his attraction to you is only because of the aphrodisiac coursing through his body. He wants this. He smirks. “Merry Christmas then, [Name].” He spreads his legs.

Feitan moans loudly, tears streaming down his cheeks as you ram into his wet cunt. You litter kisses and bites along his body, grinning when you hear him whine from biting his nipple. You lick the hardened bud and earn more whines and whimpers from Feitan. You use your hand to show love to his other nipple. He digs his nails into his palms and comes with a loud shout, his soft walls flexing around your cock. You pull away from his chest and bring him into a kiss while you continue fucking him. Thanks to the drug, he’d be upset if you did stop.

You finally slow down and come inside of him. Feitan smiles happily at the warm, gooey feeling inside him.

[usafphantom2]

Kadena Air Base P-3C

VP − 50 SG − 7 157329,

Everyone was beautiful these days.

October 1979.

@headdancer7 via X

[bwabys-scenarios]

Subby Bunny!Kurapika headcanons...?👀

Subby!Bunny Kurapika HCs NSFW

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warning: breeding, pegging, creampies

NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @pannacottababy @aliceattheart @atransmuter

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

-he HATES people touching his bunny ears and cotton tail… but when you do it’s the most soothing thing ever. He can fall asleep from you gently petting his ears alone

-always wants to breed, but he’s insatiable during mating season. he’s always hard, whining and rubbing his red cock against your ass until you let him breed you!

-such a baby… gets mad and fussy if you tease him, and cries if he doesn’t get his way when he’s all needy.

-so snuggly… when he’s not out on a mission, he’s curled up with you, getting pouty and grumpy if you try to get up.

-pegging him… he whines and whimpers, his cock leaking as you fuck his cute hole… and he says he just wants to breed you, but he’s begging for you to keep going…

-holding him in your lap and making him bounce on your strap while you stroke his cock… he feels all embarrassed but he looks so damn cute!!!

-tug on his bunny ears while you’re fucking into him from behind and he’ll let out a breathy moan…

-he likes when you keep his cockwarm. he’ll melt, kneading you and purring as he buries his face in your neck. feeling your pussy squeeze around him will make him whimper…

-so needy, for all of your attention and affection. he gets jealous easily, stomping his foot and puffing out his chest, ready to defend his mate

-he seems so cold and uncaring to most, but behind closed doors he’s your sweet, needy bunny!

[biomic]

sorry he was in ARMOR HERO?!

THE BOWTIE 😭

[chris-prank]

Well, hello again! Since some bugs seemed to have attached themselves to my ask I'm sending it again :D

Martin (wearing Garrett's sweater) and his cuddly lover (he's just a tiny bit affected by it) (both coloured and not)

(plz I'm begging for colour pallet reveals for the baby girls 🛐)

Garrett and his nemesis

Poor baby :( (he's a grown man and runs a whole damn business)

– Anon 💤

I'M SO HAPPY TUMBLR FINALLY LET ME ANSWER THIS, BECAUSE THEY ARE SO CUTEEEEEE

First of all, I need to say that your art style, and pardon my French, me donne envie de mordiller leur joue. It's literally giving me cuteness aggression.

Seeing Martin getting love makes my heart melt, like let that bounty hunter be flustered because of his loving boyfriend!!!! But more seriously, seeing them in color is just chef kiss (I'll share his color pallet one day I promise) and I love the expression you gave to Martin, and Garret in front of the menace. Your art is perfect as always.

No to mention that you perfectly captured Esteban's personality with one simple dialogue lol. Just seeing him being cute and pathetic makes me feel guilty that I don't write that much about him. Also, that pyjama is just so pretty on him and fits his vibe of a rich prick (He is 100% wearing lingerie under it)

[mona-risms]

Voice kink with K-pop DH is so crazy. Holy fuck. Dirty talk with any of the leads would be nice, but their breathy moans have to sound so good😭. Bye—you got me hooked on fucking Robin, Ayaka, and now KDH

You fall into my trap EVERY TIME 😭. You're genuinely so right though I just KNOW their voices would be absolutely fucking SINFUL

Zoey would be the most cheeky w it I think, she'd be the one to love dirty talk the most. She doesn't lose her 'cute' factor even during sex, but she KNOWS how to manipulate it in a way that'd make it all feel so??? MY GOD. She'd be teasing you and everything, saying how you're sooooo eager to play with her little clit, until you bite at a sensitive spot. Suddenly her words break up and she lets out the cutest whimper ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️ and when she BEGS??????? OHHH babyyyy.......babyyyyyyy.............she's not shy at all, she gets so desperate for you ☹️ please give her what she wants. Or don't, the little whines she lets out when you edge her would absolutely be diabolical

Mira wouldn't be vocal like Zoey methinks. She'd taunt you a little bit at first, yeah, but when you get into it, she's honestly not the type. HOWEVER. When she moans? When she lets out those breathy little noises? Ohhhh goodness save me god save me bc the sounds that leave her mouth would be downright SCANDALOUS 😩😩😩😩😩 ASMR-WORTHY EVEN. Her voice is naturally deep, so the moans she'd let out would def have a bit of a sultry rasp to it. And when you hit a Particularly sensitive spot? Her breath hitches, a contrast to her usual deep moans and grunts and curses, and it's such a delightful sound 🥰

And Rumi......RUMI..........oh she's a fun one. I think she would ENTIRELY depend on whether this is happening before the movie or after. Generally, I can see her as the one in between Mira and Zoey's scales—not really quiet, but not really vocal either. Even in bed though she'd sound melodic as FUCK, it's like your on private concert bc her voice just rolls so fucking well while she throws her head back and beg for more. If it's before the movie, I think she does tend to restrain the noises that come out of her (eg. covering her mouth and swallowing the particularly loud, punched-out moans that threaten to leave her) bc she doesn't want to risk exposing herself as a demon by having her emotions go haywire. AFTER THE MOVIE THOUGH???? AHAHAHAHAHHA oh my god. There's no reason 🤗🤗 to really hide it right 🤗🤗🤗🤗???? Next thing you know when she feels particularly good, she doesn't cut herself off, no—she lets out these particularly inhuman growls and whines as she claws at the sheets (literally), and her voice holds that demonic attribute to it. But it's not threatening at all, nonono, not when it gets higher and higher when she gets closer to cumming and it gets breathier and more primal at the same time

Can you tell who my favourite is LMFAO. Anyway fun fact though if you've ever heard someone's voice, it's shockingly easy to imagine how they'd sound in bed. So. Yeah!

[niilue]

hello! could i request illumi + panties to the side + male dom reader? no pressure!

⎯ illumi zoyckl • hxh

cw: dom reader, male reader, sex, panties to the side, mention of daddy

niilue's 3k event

as (name) undressed illumi, he noticed that he was wearing a pair of red silk panties under his clothes. intrigued, he set them aside carefully, admiring their delicate fabric and feminine design. once illumi was completely naked, (name) paused for a moment, debating whether to continue without the panties or to ask illumi to put them back on. in the end, he decided to let illumi choose.

"illumi, my dear," he said, his voice deep and husky, "do you want to keep wearing these red panties while we make love?" the question hung in the air between them, the anticipation almost palpable.

illumi looked up at him with those piercing blue eyes, a mix of desire and curiosity. "yes," he breathed, "i want you to fuck me hard, daddy." his voice was low and seductive, and it sent a shiver down (name's) spine. with a nod, illumi climbed onto the bed, spreading his legs invitingly.

(name) couldn't resist any longer. he reached out and pulled the red panties back up over illumi's hips, letting them bunch at his waist. the feeling of the silk against his skin was intoxicating, and as he positioned himself between illumi's legs, he knew he was going to enjoy this even more than he'd imagined. he paused for a moment, looking down at illumi's exposed body, and then with a growl, he thrust forward, burying himself deep inside illumi's warm, welcoming body.

as he began to move inside illumi, (name) couldn't help but let out a groan. the feeling of illumi's body wrapped around his own, the softness of the silk panties against his skin, it was all too much. he thrust harder, biting down on his lower lip to stifle the animalistic sounds building in his throat. illumi's soft gasps and moans filled the air, and the wet, sucking sound of their bodies coming together was almost deafening. the red panties, bunched at illumi's waist, seemed to taunt him, urging him on as he pumped harder and faster, his hips meeting illumi's in a rhythmic dance of desire.

sweat beaded on their foreheads and dripped down between their bodies as (name) continued to take illumi in a relentless, punishing pace. his breath came in ragged gasps, and illumi's eyes rolled back in his head in ecstasy. the wet, slapping sound of their skin meeting was almost deafening as (name) lost control.

"fuck me, (name)," illumi whispered breathlessly, arching his back as (name) thrust deeper. "oh, god, i need you so much." his fingers dug into the sheets, his body tensing as he felt the familiar tightening in his lower abdomen. "please, make me come." he whimpered, the sound muffled by the red panties bunched at his waist.

(name) growled, feeling his control slipping as he drove harder and faster into illumi's welcoming body. "you're so wet, illumi," he groaned, his hips meeting illumi's in a brutal rhythm. "you feel so good." he reached down, roughly gripping illumi's hip, pulling him closer as he thrust deeper. "almost there, my beautiful slut." he whispered, his hot breath fanning across illumi's sweat-dampened skin. "just let go and let me take you."

illumi cried out, his body shuddering as he finally came, his inner walls squeezing tightly around (name's) cock. (name) followed close behind, his voice raw as he released deep into the red silk panties, filling them with his seed.

(name) collapsed on top of illumi, their sweaty bodies sticking together. he grinned down at him, feeling triumphant and satisfied. "you're mine, illumi," he growled, "and i'll never let you go." with a final thrust, he pulled out of the red panties, rolling them up in his hand. he leaned down, capturing illumi's lips in a rough, possessive kiss as he spilled his hot seed over illumi's stomach, marking him as his own. "now, my beautiful lover," he breathed against illumi's ear, "time for a reward." he reached down, grabbing the vibrator from the bedside table and switched it on with a click. "i think you know what to do with this." illumi arched his back as the vibrations began to stir him back to life, a blush creeping up his neck. "yes, daddy," he whispered, already reaching for the panties and beginning to slide them off.

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