Kakehime - Welcome To My Home - Tumblr Blog

very important discussions happening (talking abt what i believe different hybrids characteristics are)

be your hallowed ground

Demon!Ezra x F!Reader

summary: 1700’s. the journey home before you is long, weary, and you are alone… but not for long

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI. colonial era inspired AU, inexperienced!reader, religiously raised reader, historical/societal period negative views of women, major supernatural elements, religious discussions along with Christian imagery & mentions of scripture, Ezra’s use of petnames, heavy corruption kink, possessive!Ezra, finger sucking, wound kissing and one small moment of blood consumption, Ezra lifts reader with his demon strength (reader has no physical description), intense kissing & spicy moments, f!oral receiving, light overstimulation, briefest mention of Ezra watching/stalking, sacrilegious themes, dark & spooky vibes

word count: 7.9k

a/n: so this is my first Ezra fic & i blame this AU on my ex catholic school kid roots along with playing too much cult of the lamb bcs here we are lol I wouldn’t be here without the ones who paved the way/inspired me to take the jump to write Ezra so thank you @morallyinept @julesonrecord & @lowlights for being true lovely guides, also to @pastelle-rabbit @haylzcyon & @ahauntedcowboy for letting me scream/cry about this lol I love each & every one of y’all - and to you, if you decide to take a peek and read, thank you so much ♡

The forest stretches out far, daunting.

Twilight glimmers on the last of her heels and you hope to return home soon. You can almost hear your father’s anger at your stubbornness for not staying at the inn for another night and for simply being on this journey in the first place. You should’ve saved up for a carriage ride home.

Now, alone in the woods, you fear the tree branches will soon reach down to claw you into their canopy cluster above.

Deeper and further you walk through the forest path. You haven’t prayed much recently. But you faintly remember words urging you to not fear the terror of night, nor the danger that prowls in the darkness, and you’re gently eased. You also think of the early spring blooms scattered among the town waiting for you.

Then a branch cracks behind you, the sound of someone stepping on it, and you stop.

The trek has been silent, eerily so. Not even bird chirps or the wind’s breeze has filled your space. Yet it now sounds like something approaches.

You whip around.

No one stands behind you. Only the dirt and dust linger in the air.

The woods must be clouding you with unnecessary dread. You’ve walked these roads alone before and you will walk them again even though the forest seems darker now.

Determined, and slightly frightened, you spin on your heels to quickly return on your journey.

“There you are, turtle dove.”

The voice startles you so suddenly you almost collapse. Strangely accented, the thick drawl flows heavy with a twang of someone from the wild southern territories.

Your heart beats fast like a petrified rabbit and your eyes snap towards the source of the voice.

Leaning against a large tree is the most exquisite man you ever believe to be crafted.

Dressed in a striking coat, a beautifully sharp nose and dark facial hair, he’s ethereal. You also spot the most interesting tuff of white blonde hair against his dark chestnut locks. What’s startling are his magnetic inky eyes staring at you.

“I don’t know you, good sir.” You politely reply.

The man smiles like a fox creeping around a chicken coop.

“Ezra is my given name, turtle dove. Now we’re no longer strangers.”

His name - Ezra.

Like his name suggests you wonder if maybe he’s here to provide aid, your personal blessing.

Yet his words flutter out duplicitous and heavy like something dangerous chains around them down.

“Then good day to you, sir.” You nod, a polite reply, and decide to withhold your name.

“May I accompany you on your journey?” He suggests surprisingly gentle, his words olive branch-like offers.

You ask him where he is even headed, and for what brings a well speaking, slightly suspicious, man as himself into these woods.

“The same as you, sweet bird,” Ezra replies simply. “We all have our journeys to be upon. Mine just happens to coincide with yours. A rather fortuitous blessing if I do say so myself.”

Your eyes narrow. Something scratches at the back of your mind urging you to keep walking and pay no heed to this man.

But then the wind picks up.

From a soft breeze it quickly transforms into the strangest howl, like a warning of the dangers lurking all around. In a slight panic your eyes survey your surroundings. This man might be a stranger, but having company might not be such a bad choice.

“Come now.” Ezra comments reassuring and steady even among the howling winds. “These woods are wild and deep, ain’t no place for a treasure such as yourself.”

He is handsome, the most stunning man you may ever see. And the glimmer in his eyes seems to beckon you.

After you quietly nod, your journey expands by one.

With a gracious bow of his head, the man from the shadows falls into step beside you.

The wind suddenly, but thankfully, settles. However, tension prickles against your skin and a strange warmth blooms from the center of your chest.

“So, what’s a lovely angel like yourself doing here, a babe in the woods?” Ezra begins.

Your fingers tighten against your cloak while the truth stays sealed tight.

The man chuckles.

“Don’t go shy on me now, sweet dove,” he teases.

You huff annoyed. However, seeing as how you will be traveling with him until you return home, you decide to engage with him.

Your dearest friend moved to the next town when you both became fully grown. She fell in love with a married man in a loveless marriage to a cruel woman. Because of that your friend was condemned to banishment. Now, she’s with child. Some even whisper the child was maybe even convinced due to witchcraft.

However, with the recent passing of your town’s relentless head clergyman, you hope this will help improve the situation.

Ezra listens patiently, letting you quietly explain everything.

“And so you traveled to visit your dear friend like a kind emissary.” He notes. “Your town must be in an uproar over you visiting her.”

“They are.” You answer stiffly.

Your father absolutely detests it. Even the governor’s son, who has shown interest in courting you, has made it known that your lenient position doesn’t help towards a marriage possibility. But you won't falter in your loyalty. Especially after your faith has been so shaken from seeing the harsh treatment given to your friend.

“A fair decision.” Ezra agrees. “All those upset are fools anyway. Seems they forgot the good book even mentions how cherished a gift it is to forgive others just as the lord forgives us.”

He quotes scripture so passively it surprises you. He doesn’t seem like a spiritual type. If anything, Ezra seems like a man who slinks around the shadows late at night among the thieves and brothels hidden at the edge of town.

“You’re right,” you agree with him. “Who are we to judge others on simple matters of passion compared to our lord, especially to condemn it?”

“Lust is considered a grave sin though, dear birdie, so I understand why.” He quietly answers while his words scurry over your skin. “After all, look at the predicament it entangled your dear friend in.”

“And don’t passions of the flesh wage war against the solemnity of the soul?” Ezra politely answers lightly referring to scripture and you wonder if he is a man devoted to the good book.

So you reserve your words again.

“Please… do not silence your song, biride.” Ezra coos.

“Now, tell me your thoughts,” he whispers low.

As you swallow hard, your skin feels tight against your bones. But you decide to speak freely, as dangerous as it may be.

“It’s true that my friend committed a terrible sin.” You begin with a shaky sigh. “I understand her punishment. But for others to be so cruel when faith says to forgive and embrace salvation feels hypocritical.”

“True indeed. And as you said, all this for the sake of condemning passion? There are worse commandments to shatter under heaven’s watchful eye.” Ezra drawls out.

“Exactly.” You agree with a firm nod more at ease with your new companion.

“Besides… isn’t the act of creation an offspring of passion?” He challenges and the thought stuns you.

The stranger is correct and his perception moves you.

You’ve never engaged in such discussions like this with anyone before, especially not with a man. You noticed he speaks to you like an equal, never diminishing your ideals or fully trampling on your opinions.

Something greedy urges you to slow down your step and spend as much time with your new companion.

“So, is there a husband of yours waitin’ at home to meet you with passions, dear dove?” Ezra asks with the curl of intrigue in his voice and you almost choke on a gasp.

“A rather forward question to ask a stranger.” You snap back sharply and glare at him.

Ezra keeps his abyss eyes drawn forward and doesn't seem bothering at your reply or the discussion matter he brought up.

“Thought we established we’re no longer strangers?” Your stranger mutters back.

“We’ve discussed religion, the ways of the hearts and their passions. Only good friends touch on such topics, yes?”

He’s unbearably confident, and he knows it. You want to storm off, maybe even demand him to leave. But you can’t do it. You almost can’t endure the thought of him leaving now.

So you reply stiffly. “No. I have no husband at home.”

“Truly?” He now squawks confused.

“Ain’t that a damn shame.” He purrs. “A creature lovely as yourself deserves to be worshiped every minute you’re here among this green earth.”

Your heart thumps erratic against its cage.

“Are you mocking me, good man Ezra, for not being married?” You deflect with a shaky voice.

“Never, turtle dove.” He reassures. “I believe the ultimate sin is to be denied any shade of passion.”

“Especially for a beauty marvelous as yourself.” He exhales and his voice dances devilishly.

An uneasiness settles into your legs, like your body could give out at any moment.

“What you say is blasphemy,” you manage to reply, however your voice wavers. “A heathen's words.”

“I could’ve recounted the same about you moments ago when you spoke your thoughts.” He mutters back.

Your heart drops. He’s correct. This man has your thoughts tied up in so many knots and you cannot find a path within yourself.

“No need to worry.” Ezra says. “Treading into heathen’s territory is never frightful when you have a companion.”

You don’t know how you feel about this conversation or where it seems to be heading towards. Your gaze turns to Ezra. He continues staring ahead composed.

He’s a strange unorthodox man, an anomaly, someone you never believed existed.

“Now tell me… have you tasted desire, my sweet turtle dove?”

His eyes now move to you, catching you staring red handed. Like an exposed thief, your gaze flies away from him.

His question, as if composed of thorns, constricts around your throat refusing to let you answer.

You’ve tasted it on the tips of your tongue. One of your old childhood friends became a courtesan at a brothel. During her nights off, you’d sneak out to visit her. She recounted with giggles about the various sexual escapades she’s experienced. It made your mouth water wishing for the embrace of a lover, to understand what it meant to be truly desired.

You’ve been tempted to fall into bed with the blacksmith’s brother but once you discovered his cruel treatment of the women in town you were soured by the thought. So during the late nights alone your fingers slipped under the quilts and you would find a sticky taste of passion.

Getting caught up in your thoughts keeps you quiet.

“When I was a younger man and lived in France.” Ezra begins with a sudden gentle musing, the voice of a storyteller almost. “Even when I migrated here to the southern territories, I learned of an interesting turn of phrase.”

“La petite mort.” The words flow from him beautifully, rolled with such finessed precision. Hearing him speak sparks a jolt up your spine.

“I’m not quite sure you know of it, but do you know what it means?”

Your eyes that had glazed over are now back on Ezra. His devastatingly beautiful face remains serene.

“The literal translation is ‘a little death.’” Ezra continues. “But what it speaks of is the little moment of feeling as if you’re dying when experiencing true orgasmic release, something that makes us see god.”

His words, hanging with a thinly concealed desire, rip through you and a slickness slowly pools between your legs.

Now his eyes flicker to you.

“A pleasure so rapturous we taste a little death.” He mutters looking so intently at you that you want to scurry and hide away.

But you can’t. You’re drawn into his gaze, a poor moth entrapped by his erratic flame, and you’re not quite sure if this fire is hellfire.

Rationale within you screams this man could be a robber or could be leading you into his sticky web to simply harm you. Yet it seems like he could vanish into smoke.

You also notice you and Eza have both stopped walking. Now staring into his eyes, you discover storms in them.

Until an oncoming storm arrives all around. The wind erupts into howls. It whips around fast and you tug your cloak closer trying to stay warm against the gales.

Your face even scrunches up at the drastic change in the weather.

A firm hand moves to your back pulling you closer until you rest within the shade of a firm body. Ezra has drawn you into his side, lifting his cloak to cover you, and your eyes become full moons.

“To keep you sheltered from this weather. Though, we may need to hunt for some sanctuary soon.” He mutters.

He smells of pine, like the forest itself gave him to you. However you also catch the smallest hint of something smoky, like he slept too close to a campfire.

But, his words confuse you.

“Terrible weather? It’s simply just bad wind.” You yell against the wind and glance around the forest.

That’s when you notice how terrifyingly dark it’s gotten. The tree branches now stretch above like monstrous limbs crawling along the darkness.

How long have you been out along the trail? You haven’t even reached the halfway point to town. The woods now loom incredibly dark like a chasm ready to swallow you whole.

Then the drum of thunder comes, and the skies open up, as if on command by Ezra’s prophetic words. The rain unleashes a downpour. You squawk like a petrified bird at how soaked you’re getting even being covered by his coat.

“Come!” He cries over the storm keeping you close. “I believe there is shelter close by.”

So through the darkness you go, led by him off the path and deeper into the thicket.

How did he know a shelter was nearby? Shouldn’t he have come here earlier and left you on your journey? Or did he maybe sense the storm was coming and wanted to keep accompanying you.

The rush of the rain along with how quickly Ezra moves you and him feels as if you’re flying through the forest like your feet never once touch the ground.

Your body stops and out from the darkness, among the rain, stands the faint shape of a building.

Ezra guides you inside and you exhale relieved you’re out of the storm.

The stale smell of dust greets you first and makes your nose crinkle.

Looking out to your new makeshift shelter, you find yourself standing in a very abandoned church. Dried dead leaves scatter the floor. Vacant pews hold a hollow ghostly emptiness. You didn’t even know this chapel was here.

“How did you know of this place-” you turn to ask Ezra but discover you’re alone.

So focused on soaking in the church you didn’t even notice his departure.

“Ezra?” You call for him and silence replies.

Where could he have gone?

“Worry not.” Ezra’s voice floats out an echo. From the side of the sacristy, beside the main congregation hall, he emerges.

How did he get there without you noticing?

In his grasp is a lit candle. The flames create interesting shadows upon his handsome face as his molten eyes stare at you.

“Apologizes,” he reassured you with the ease of a saint. “Went to scavenge for some light.”

“Seems you were unsuccessful.” You dryly tease, walking towards where Ezra stands at the front of the congregation.

A slight tug of amusement comes over his heavenly face.

“We shall make camp here until the storm quells.”

No better place to find sanctuary than in a chapel, even though this one has seen better days.

Outside the wind continues rattling the windows while the rain creates a soothing melody. Yet, there is an emptiness here, like you can’t sense any sacred spirit within these walls. You wonder if the Lord maybe has even abandoned this space.

“Come rest with me, turtle dove.” Ezra beckons to you as he sits casually on the floor up besides the altar.

“You can’t sit there!” You whisper urgent.

“Why? Who is here to stop me?” Ezra counters with raised eyebrows and amused crinkled eyes.

“This is sacred ground! You can’t simply sit in the sanctuary like it’s some sort of encampment!” You argue.

“Biride,” Ezra begins. “This momentary shelter is merely a building. The same way all buildings are just simple creations of stone and labor.”

“Not buildings like this, especially when our lord resides here.” You reply like a dutifully faithful follower.

Ezra now sits up from his lax position to glance around. His eyes survey every inch of the space.

“You say our Heavenly Father is here. But tell me, turtle dove, do you sense his presence here?”

He noticed it too.

Your tongue becomes metal, heavy and bitter.

“Come,” he urges again, kinder now. “Rest. Your legs need their strength for the rest of your journey. It will be much more comfortable than those stuffy pews.”

You narrow your eyes at him, still hesitant. Defiant, you try sitting in one of the vacant pews only to find clusters of spider webs creating a slightly unnerving barrier. And you didn’t want to check every pew for availability. You were too tired.

Refusing to meet Ezra’s eyes you step past the pews, into the sanctuary, and delicately sit a small space away from your companion.

“See? Not so hard, and you didn’t even combust into flames sitting here.”

You glare at him while Ezra grins triumphant. Silence settles. But with a man who readily embraces the gift and curse of gab, it feels dangerous.

A small gurgle of a noise rumbles out and your face heats up horrified. You didn’t realize you hadn’t eaten this entire journey.

“A bit peckish, dear dove?” Ezra chuckles a smokey thing.

You’re about to grumble under your breath annoyed until he again peers around the abandoned church.

“Rather unfortunate there doesn’t seem to be any source of subsidence here.”

You quietly reassure him as you shift your cloak to reach for your covered satchel. Thankfully, your morsel of a wrapped loaf was spared from the rain.

“I have this for us to share.” You quietly announce.

Ezra gasps small but surprised.

“Divine goddess, you are salvation.” He breathes out.

“I am no goddess. No one person is divine in such a way.” You correct him.

The man hums. “If the maker created man in his image does that not mean we are shades of god in our own ways?”

Midway unfolding the bread out of the paper, you halt.

You never thought of it that way. It made sense. Slowly, it feels as if a wagon wheel is turning in your head leading you towards something you cannot reach.

“Sweet turtle dove,” Ezra calls to you. “Would you be so gracious and let me consecrate our feast?”

You’re stunned by the heartfelt request. This man seems to be a never ending labyrinth confusing you with no end in sight.

You slide closer to sit fully beside him. Readily you hand him the wrapped bread and try not to jump at his hand brushing yours. His skin is soft, warmed, and your knuckles tingle from the simple exchange.

“Thank you kindly.”

Now holding the bread in one hand, Ezra moves the other to lightly hover above the morsel. Closing his eyes in prayer, Ezra begins.

However, he mutters low and so fast that you can’t even catch a word of his prayer. You wonder if he even is saying anything or is simply mocking the form of prayer.

You’re about to chide him until he quickly finishes. Dreamily opening his eyes Ezra then simply breaks the bread into two.

“To break communion with someone lovely as you is an honor.” With a gracious grin, your stranger hands you a piece. You thank him with a soft mutter.

The storm continues its wrath and you arrive at a bleak conclusion. Your night will be spent here in this eerie abandoned church with this strange mysterious handsome man.

Resigning yourself to that, you sigh and take a bite out of the bread.

The bread was a simple one you got from the neighboring town’s bakery. It’s nothing special. You’ve even thought it rather stale at times.

However, the bread you taste now is indescribable.

It melts in your mouth, wonderfully soft and warm. There’s even the sweetest taste like a whisper of a fruit that reminds you of apples. An uncontrollable moan of satisfaction escapes you.

But your eyes widen realizing how you just acted.

Embarrassment floods you fast and you anxiously gaze at Ezra who smirks at you.

Unable to stare at him long, you turn back down to your lap. The bread looks exactly the same as it always does.

Is your mind so exhausted it believes this stale morsel now tastes this heavenly?

You must be imagining things.

Besides you, Ezra shuffles. Out of curiosity your eyes lift towards him and find the man shrugging off his coat.

He even removes his waistcoat to reveal his simple white slipover. Rain still lingers on his skin allowing the pristine white cloth to stick to him. Without the coat you’re given clear sight of his glorious neck.

A thought flutters into your mind.

You imagine sinking your teeth into his beautiful flesh and lapping up all the rain droplets.

Dread fills you.

How could you think such thoughts?

“Turtle dove,” Ezra’s voice shatters the silence almost making you jump.

“If you could create a world of your own, what would it look like?”

The question stumps you, even brings in a twinkle of curiosity. What would bring on such a question? You suppose it must be a way to break the silence and pass the time.

In thought, you hum a small noise.

“I think…” you quietly utter and let your thoughts flow.

You think of a world built on compassion, one without hunger or war, of one filled with peace and justice.

“And without sin, I suppose.” Ezra gently comments and your eyes turn to him.

He stares towards the ground with a peculiar look shadowed over his handsome face.

“Yes of course.” You answer. Sin is the root of all evil and corrupted humanity’s souls.

“What if I told you some sins are not all evil? And that what you long for, dear turtle dove, is not a world void is sin, but one free of guilt from it.”

Your face scrunches up a bit confused over his nebulous words.

“Should we not all live in indulgence?” Ezra adds, clarified in his words.

“Indulgence leads to corruption.” You reply parroting all the countless sermons that discussed this.

“If our creator didn’t want us to indulge, then why did he indulge in creating such a world so lush as this one?” Your stranger offers.

You try gathering a reply, thinking of all the lessons about how this world is meant to be seen in awe and appreciated. Not to indulge in. But now all your arguments seem to fall short, not even sound correct in your head.

Before you can press the discussion further Ezra leans closer towards you. Your thoughts and body become completely petrified.

You should lean away, lean back from his casual intimate movements.

But you can’t. Or, within the deep terror of your heart you know the truth. You don’t want to.

His thumb moves towards the corner of your mouth and you transform completely into stone.

Ezra’s ink eyes haze over while his thumb gently swipes against your skin.

“Crumbs.” He mutters, answering for his actions. Yet, his hand doesn’t leave.

You don’t shove him away or demand him to go. The downpour rattling the windows becomes the church’s only noise while you and this man sit in the stillness.

Ezra’s attention falls to your mouth.

His thumb now strokes the corner of your lips. You believe it’s to wipe more bread crumbs away. Then his thumb swipes across your bottom lip and a sharp inhale escapes you.

His eyes and yours find each other.

“You deserve to live in indulgence,” Ezra whispers deviously rich.

Your skin feels ablazed and your throat dries. Out of instinct or perhaps something darker you wet your lips. In that movement your lips press against his thumb and your tongue manages to swipe at his skin.

You’re rewarded the faintest taste of him, a crumb of his salty golden skin, and it’s like a thread slowly catches fire.

You want more, need it.

Possibly possessed now, your mouth opens up and simply slips more of his thumb into your mouth.

The moment the salty taste of him hits your tongue your eyes close.

Feeling his finger in your mouth against your tongue, against your teeth, is divine. His flesh must be coated with ambrosia because your mouth waters aching for more.

Heaven, or this must be a slice of it.

Until horror strikes you and you realize what you’re doing. Terrified eyes now open, you’re about to pull away and yelp horrified.

Ezra’s hand rapidly moves to cradle your face firm and slide his thumb deeper into your mouth.

“Oh my sweet bird,” he coos now closer to you. “You’ve tasted the pleasure I can give, the magic I can conjure. Don’t deny yourself this.”

His beautiful nose presses into the side of your face nuzzling against your skin and your eyes close. Bliss overtakes you.

“Now” his voice drops a dangerous lulling whisper. “Hollow your cheeks for me, and suck in.”

You do as told and the groan Ezra lets out vibrates deep past your skin. You even let out a whine.

You’ve heard the noises men make in the waves of passion, but this was decadent. You never knew a man could sound this beautiful.

You wanted to hear him even more. And knowing you did this to him? A syrupy drunken pride courses through you intoxicating.

You suck harder, allowing your tongue to caress his skin and Ezra exhales heavenly.

Before you can indulge any further, a creature screeches into the church and shatters the sensual spell. You shriek in terror and scramble. Wings furiously flapping come and out of reflex you cover your head.

Then a solid body collides into you and your world falls over.

You hit the floor of the sanctuary with a soft thud. It would’ve been a harder fall if not for Ezra’s hand cradling your head to soften the impact. Your eyes look up to find Ezra covering you, protecting you from whatever flew in.

Your heart thumps loud in your ears, a horrible drum drowning out your thoughts. His broad shoulders, firm frame, he really is a man crafted out of pure beauty and desire now that you’ve tasted his skin.

“Blasted bats… must’ve been nesting in here.” Ezra comments with a mutter while his eyes stay watching out.

Now you faintly hear the familiar chirps of the creatures. You hope they all leave soon or move to another area within the church.

Slowly the rustling settles. Ezra does not move from his post above you, a shield keeping you safe from the interrupting creatures.

His large hand cradling your head holds you gently but with a firmness that speaks of his control.

The strangest clash of sensations arrives. Like Eve awoken out of her blissful sin, you’re keenly aware of the cold clothes sticking to you. Particularly your wet cloak weighing on you sends a chill crawling up your skin making you squirm.

Ezra’s eyes slip back to you. The candlelight highlights the shadows of his face and his eyes seem deeper than before. Candlelight doesn’t even reflect in their abyss.

Until his obsidian eyes go wide in a slight panic.

“Your wing, turtle dove.”

Now confused you shift to lift your arm up. A small cut has ripped through your cloak and blouse sleeve. You didn’t even notice or feel it. Must have cut yourself on the old wooden floor below.

The church didn’t seem this dilapidated to have rotten wood floors. However, without upkeep, it only makes sense everything begins to splinter and decay. Thankfully the cut isn’t deep but dark crimson does stain the cloth.

“Oh,” you even mutter a bit stunned.

Gently Ezra shifts to help you up while being cautious of your wound.

“Are you in pain?” He asks, concerned.

“No.” You shake your head, truthfully telling him you didn’t even notice the cut.

Ezra delicately moves towards your arm. “May I?”

You nod quietly.

Gingerly, your mysterious stranger places his hands on you to further inspect your wound.

“It doesn’t hurt.” You reassure him.

Surprisingly, Ezra stays silent. His eyes remain on your arm. As if you’re an injured sparrow, he folds up your blouse sleeve delicately.

The faintest touch of his thumb strokes your bare skin and your throat constricts tight. This unknown mystery of a man tenderly touching you clutches at your soul.

“My creator, so heavenly in his wisdom,” he suddenly speaks low, like his voice is dipped in sticky honey. “Taught me this is how we heal wounds.”

Then Ezra draws your arm up and he leans down. And in that swift moment, he presses his lips to your wound.

A tender kiss.

Your breath hitches, tripping over itself. You indeed had his finger in your mouth moments ago. But this opens a chasm in you. Especially as you watch him lick away your blood at his lips

Then his lips return to your skin, on your wound, and it feels like devotion.

There were saints that kissed the wounds of your lord and now how angelic, reverent, Ezra’s face looks, you imagine him as one.

However, his lips start kissing all across your arm, quickly becoming greedy. Like a silent thief, he continues kissing up your arm with deliberate nips.

If he is a robber, this thievery is divine. You even squirm, squeezing your legs together because a slick wetness leaks between them. You wish to quell this burning urge to be touched.

Your mind only focuses on Ezra’s lips that you don’t even notice he unclasped your cloak until the heavy cold weight drops off you like shackles unchained.

However, an awful breeze across your skin makes you shrink back from the cold and snaps you into awareness.

You can’t do this with a man like this, a stranger.

A fanged piece of yourself urges you to simply give in, especially with a man not known in town. The internal struggle vanishes when Ezra’s breath tickles against your exposed neck.

“Do you wish me to stop, my turtle dove?” He coo’s. “I believe you deserve to taste this indulgence.”

“I don’t know you.” You croak out. Yet your voice doesn’t even sound convinced of your own resolve.

“Oh but you do.” Ezra pleads, his voice drenched in gilded desire.

“You know me.” He urges. “This is what you wanted. Your heart summoned me. I heard your call and here I am.”

“What do you mean?” Your voice cracks, an unsteady foundation.

“The hidden truths in your heart,” Ezra whispers and his breath dances upon your skin a ghost’s hymnal.

“The festering jealousy of knowing your dear friend found adoration, even out of sin…you wished to know of such delights. And your anger of this world for damning you to such solitudes, of being so constricting - it all called to me.”

Fear captures your heart. This couldn’t be true.

“Oh but it is,” Ezra answers you.

You don’t even know if you spoke those words aloud or if this man has now slithered into your thoughts.

“All those nights you longed for a lover,” he mourns sympathetically. “All alone with just your fingers in your sweet sex.”

You choke on air, gasping for some sort of relief from this terror drowning you.

“Oh and I’ve watched you for so long, my bird.” He bemoans. “Ached for so long to claim you mine.”

“You…you’ve seen me before?” You stammer.

“Indeed I have. I know you’ve partaken in sin. And the guilt you hold consumes you. Let me be your redemption,” Ezra continues with a pure temptation crawling from his voice.

You should be concerned at how this man has seen you before. Yet…With his mouth simply a breath’s pace away from you nothing seems to matter. Because your mind only wants him to kiss you, ravish you.

“You must say it, my angel.” He mutters.

Do you dare jump off the ledge and plunge into this molten fire?

A light terror runs across your skin, like hearing the hiss of a snake yet not seeing it. Something is afoot with Ezra. You can’t pinpoint it…

But you also wonder if this doubt is born from the chains of your faith holding you back?

“Ezra.” You mumble his name, a choked noise.

“I await your command.” The man reverently responds as if in a mass himself.

“Please….” You whimper out.

“Please what?” He murmurs and his twang clouds his voice even more.

“Please….touch me.” You croak while your voice trails.

It unleashes a monster.

Ezra’s lips dive onto your neck, kissing upon your skin with a possessed fervor. Even while sitting, the sudden rush of his lips, the scrape of his facial hair against you makes your body collapse.

It only allows for Ezra to sweep you into his arms.

Yanking his face away from your neck, you’re about to mourn the loss of him against your skin until his lips swoop in to consume yours.

You’ve kissed others before. In the hidden shadow of buildings after dark, you’ve even recently shared a kiss or two with the blacksmith’s brother a handful of times. They’ve been wonderful but secret encounters.

This however sets your soul on fire.

His tongue swiftly maneuvers into your mouth and now tasting him from the source, you never want to know a day without this, without him.

You moan, yanking at him closer, and try to slide your own tongue against his now. It’s messy, wet, a clash of bone and spirit but it’s delicious.

Sliding his arms under your legs, Ezra lifts you up with ease as he stands. You squeak against his lips, but then your eyes roll back when the man suddenly begins sucking on your tongue.

Your body feels like it will crumble at any moment.

That’s when you notice you’re being laid upon something cold and flat.

Wearily you find you do rest high upon something.

And now, the church is lit.

You panic looking around. The torches lining the walls burn with warm flames and illuminate the space in amber light.

How? Ezra did not leave you for one moment. Was there another here? And if so, how did you not hear them?

A warm calloused hand moves to cradle your face and your eyes snap to Ezra who peers down at you with smoke filled eyes.

“Don’t fret, my dove. We are only here.” He reassures, leaning down to kiss you again and your eyes shut once more.

“And if you’re not simply focused on me, then I’m not doing this correctly.” He mutters against your lips.

A wanton drunkenness comes with how consuming he kisses, especially as his mouth pulls from your lips to lick against your jaw.

He hums a satisfied groan.

“Oh my darling turtle dove, you were born to be worshiped by me weren’t you? And I blessed to simply be your devout disciple.” A revered holiness oozes thick from his voice.

“Let me venerate at your holy temple.” Ezra exhales against your throat kissing your feverish skin.

This is more than you can handle. It’s tremendous. It’s too much, yet not enough. It’s building something just out of your grasp, a flame that can’t be extinguished and scorches so fierce.

Blinking out of the haze, you find instead of being beside you, Ezra, like magic, now stands by your feet.

His hands slide up your legs and yank you closer towards him.

A yelp of surprise squeaks out from you. Any other noise or thoughts get swallowed up when Ezra’s hands snake under your skirt and up your legs.

Your eyes close under the sensation of his calloused warm hands.

“Do you know what true sacrifice cleanses sins?” Ezra asks with gravel in his voice.

“Hm?” You mumble, unable to create a response with how wonderful his fingers feel caressing your thighs.

“It’s to offer up one’s life. That’s the ultimate form of sacrifice.”

His words terrify you. Is he insinuating what you think he is? Are you to be made a lamb to slaughter because of the desire consuming you?

“Shh…” Ezra notices your worry and soothes you, rubbing gentle circles on your skin.

“Fear not, my dove. For I shall bring you redemption just as you’ve brought me mine.”

Slowly, he hoists your leg up and your eyes widen. He shifts to stand between your legs. Keeping his gaze on you, the mysterious man kisses your calf, a calming balm that also ignites a heat brewing in you again.

“Tell me,” Ezra asks, speaking into your skin. “Has anyone tasted you…here?”

Suddenly his fingers graze against your sex and warmth floods your face at just the thought.

You heard of such a thing from your friend at the brothels. However it was a rare occurrence, almost seemed mythical.

“No.” You breathe out.

“Shame.” Ezra mumbles. “All for me I suppose. A wonderfully ripe peach, all mine to consume.”

His inky dazed eyes flicker to yours.

“Will you let me take you to heaven, my lovely? May I swim in your ocean and taste your pearl?” Ezra offers like a man asking for your atonement.

The terminology is not missed on you and lust crashes in a dizzying tidal wave.

Quietly, swallowing thick, you nod yes.

Pride grin tugs at Ezra’s lips and his eyes twinkle like a creature lurking out from the woods.

Softly closing his eyes, he returns to kissing your skin. Except this time he moves up your leg with a purpose -

Like he’s on a holy pilgrimage.

Almost bewitched you watch him kneel down and push up your skirt to reveal your under garment. It’s a sight you want seared into your memory.

Then Ezra presses forward and kisses your covered sex. A gasp rips wild from you and your eyes roll back.

With a fast rip, Ezra takes apart your undergarments. Bare to him, his tongue then licks against your cunt and the most debauched sound you never knew you could even make escapes you.

“Do you enjoy? Wish me to continue?” You don’t know how Ezra’s voice swirls around you, a caress in the whispering wind, but you nod frantically.

“Ezra please… more.” You whimper.

And he does as you command.

Ezra pulls you apart with a wet devotion and frenzy that feels like you’re being devoured. He’s feasting on you.

You whine, even slap a hand over your mouth to silence how loud you’ve become when he sucks hard on the pearl of your sex.

“No.” He mumbles wet within your molten heat. “Let me hear you, my lovely.”

You don’t deny him after that.

The storm now rages outside, violently ramming into the windows. It mixes with the cries of your pleasure ripping through you.

When your climax arrives and knocks you out of this realm, you scream Ezra’s name while your legs shake.

“Beauty divine,” Ezra sighs, devout and borderline drunk.

Breathing down from your high with your back fully now flat against the floor surface, it hits you.

You’ve been lying on the chapel’s altar this entire time.

The offering is you. You indeed are the sacrifice, one of vitality. The throne of ecstasy is a form of life…

And did Ezra not tell you passion is also a tiny death itself as well?

Before you can gather this, Ezra dives back into you again and you squirm unbelieving this man can want more. He’s a man possessed like he’s trying to consume you from the inside out, devouring you until he reaches your marrow.

“Ezra.” You whimper. It borders too much, but you also don’t want this to stop.

“Let me feast, my dove.” He growls back and you catch it.

Ezra’s voice sounds distorted, fluttering between his twang and now a jagged danger sounding monstrous.

Wearily, trying to stay aware among the heat of building rapture, you exhaustedly lean up.

Between your legs Ezra is a sinful sight. His broad shoulders keep your thighs open as his tongue dips into the caverns of your cunt. You melt, unable to keep your eyes open.

But you want to watch him, want to remember this for as long as you can.

Especially now that the storm rages all around. You even wonder if the decaying church’s roof might be ripped off.

So your eyes open.

From between your legs, Ezra glances up.

His mouth stays stuck to your sex, except his eyes are completely hollowed out.

Drenched in darkness, like ink spilled entirely into them, they’re unholy and inhuman.

A scream rips from you but you can’t tell if it’s born of fear or pleasure. Or maybe both have blended together.

Your hips rise galvanized more and more, unable to stop their grind into his lips. Ezra’s grip keeps you secured and grounded.

Yet the sensation of sharpened nails now scrape against your skin.

You discover there are indeed claws, gruesome and monstrous claws, that form Ezra’s hands and arms.

“What- what are you?!” You sob.

Ezra hums and peers up at you.

“Salvation, my lovely. Yours and mine.”

A second orgasmic high hits and from the overwhelming pleasure your vision goes white. You wonder if this is heaven.

Or perhaps it’s hell.

Maybe you have died.

You should scream in terror or pray for absolution. But it’s so hard when this tastes so incredibly intoxicating, a most potent elixir.

As your body crumbles back against the altar, the overstimulated sensations become numbing, fogging your mind. Your eyes flicker up to the ceiling of the chapel.

You cannot find your god anywhere in the shadows.

The back of Ezra’s clawed hand gently strokes your cheek.

So tired, barely able to stay awake, your exhausted gaze flickers to him.

Those eyes of his, dark chasms of hell, should be soulless. But instead he looks at you with utmost tenderness.

The blazing lights of the church cast a warm glow outlined around Ezra, almost like a halo.

It’s beautiful. He’s beautiful in the terrifying way a fire is.

The mystery known as Ezra suddenly whispers out your name and you realize…

You never once gave it to him this entire time.

He is the last sight you see before your vision finally falls into the darkness.

When you awake, you’re among your quilts and bed.

You’re home.

Rapidly you look around so confused. How did you end up here? Was it all a dream?

“You’re awake!” Your father cries relieved and rushes to your side.

He thankfully answers all your questions.

You had arrived the morning after the storm. However, you hadn’t been alone.

“You had fallen ill on the road.” Your father explains. “But, thanks be to God, the new pastor sent to our town discovered you and carried you home.”

Now you’ve been resting ever since.

Had that experience been a fever dream, a temporary temptation conjured from your heart’s dark desires?

That had to be a dream, one brought on by your sudden sickness. So you rest and stay in bed for most of the day. From your window you admire the beautiful clear skies, the wonderful weather, and wildflowers growing so lovely.

You also notice your arm is completely healed, like you were never cut to begin with.

Midafternoon, a knock arrives at the door.

Your father calls your name. “Someone here to visit!”

Your mind sorts through all the possibilities of who is here to see you. You never expected your dearest friend to enter in with tears in her eyes. Overjoyed emotion washes over you as she rushes to embrace you.

“How can this be?” You hiccup, wiping away the tears. She was rarely allowed back home, especially now with her early pregnancy.

“The new pastor,” she smiles wide. “So holy and forgiving, he spoke to the judges and they are all redetermining a new sentence for me.”

You almost whisper out a prayer of thanksgiving. You hoped in your heart this would happen. She doesn’t stay long, wanting you to rest and you urge her to do the same.

By twilight another knock at the door arrives.

“Seems we are quite popular today.” Your father teases out from the main quarters.

Then he exclaims in excitement at seeing who’s arrived.

“Oh we are so blessed to have such a considerate clergyman coming by to visit!”

The new pastor. You’re beyond interested to meet this man and now you will.

When your father enters your room, Ezra waltzes in behind him.

Fear seizes your soul.

No. It couldn’t be.

This must be a man that looks like him down to his beautiful sharp nose and white patch of hair.

“Pleasure to see you again and under better circumstances.” Ezra’s clear twang rings out low and twinkling within your room.

Your heart rages rapidly and wild.

“Don’t look so terrified.” Your father chides soft but you still can’t believe this sight before you.

“Might I have a moment of solitude with your dear offspring?” Ezra asks with all the humility of an apostle.

Your father readily agrees, shutting the door behind him.

Now in the confines of your room Ezra slowly saunters towards your bed, a creature approaching its prey.

He exalts your name on an exhale.

You try to speak, but nothing comes out and Ezra moves to kneel beside your bed. His eyes twinkle with patient and pious understanding.

“Shh…no need for words, my dear turtle dove.” He quietly soothes you.

So many emotions clash in you, a tremulous onslaught you can’t handle.

“Have you come to kill me?” Fear manages to escape your lips and Ezra’s glorious face drops.

“Oh no, my beloved birdie. I’d never lay a hand on you with any violence or killing intent.” He reassures, a tender caress. “I’m here to free you. For us to set everyone free…did you not hear of what I did for your dear friend?”

His hand graciously cradles your cheek.

You should be terrified this man, this creature, is here. But you’re not.

Instead consuming relief and dangerous glee fills you. He is real. It was real.

Your hands clasp onto his and you hate how much you lean into his touch

Ezra leans forward and places a kiss against your forehead.

“What are you?” You ask barely above a whisper.

“The shadow of an angel, perhaps a monster to some.” He replies back. “But yours, nonetheless”

And you want him to be yours.

This is wrong to feel so greedy, to want a creature this dangerous. But were demons not once angels who deserved forgiveness and love?

So shifting your face you turn and place a kiss against Ezra’s palm.

Now when you hear the sermons, when you hear Ezra preach, you will think of Eve with sympathy because you understand.

You too fell for the serpent.

After all, evil never looks so beautiful as it does holding you. And desire never tasted so divine, never felt so holy.

Outside your window, the wildflowers begin to rot and the sudden rumble of a thunderstorm rolls in.

More Than Bargained For

Pairing: Male!Orc x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, cnc, rough sex, name-calling, size difference, degradation, pinned against a wall, creampie, semi-public sex, alleyway sex, mentioned gangbang, mentioned free use, getting caught, wholesome at the end, human!Reader

Word count: 1k

A/N: I don't know why but my size kink is going crazy again.

"If I knew defending this pathetic little town would get me easy access to the mayor's daughter I would have gotten rid of those pesky lowlifes long ago. You were so grateful to me, so shy, now look at yourself!" The big orc pounding his cock into you barked out a laugh. "Knew you were a slut the moment I saw you."

You shook your head, too afraid to open your mouth because you knew what kind of noises you'd make if you did. You were grateful for the chatter and music coming from the taverns around you, if it weren't for those everyone would hear the two of you fucking.

When your father hired this orc to defend your town you were drawn to him. That much was true, you even found yourself glancing at him, eyes drawn downward, your mind trying to imagine what his monster cock would feel like. No imagination was enough to prepare you for the real thing. Long, thick, a dark green with drops of white cum, splitting your pussy open.

He was so big you couldn't even wrap your legs around him. Only hook them on his hips.

"Keep trying, go ahead, take me even deeper. I'll push your human body to its limits." You let your head fall back against the brick wall as he bottomed out once again, his whole cock filling you to the point of pain. The kind of pain that made you want more. "Not talking to me anymore? Is it because I tell the truth you don't want to hear? You think those men in there would treat you any better? They only respect you because your dad pays them to. At least I'm honest with you."

But the men who you were with before, some were respectful but for others you knew they only showed interest because of the money that came with you. This orc, he didn't care about your status, he wanted one thing and one thing only. To bury his cock in you and make you his moaning bitch. So he was telling the truth, he was indeed an honest one.

With every deep stroke of his cock you felt your orgasm approaching. But so were several pairs of footsteps, "Someone's... coming."

"Yes. You." You knew he could hear people coming, you could tell by his pointy ears twitching. His body turned to hide most of yours from the view of the street, leaving only your shaking legs and arms visible, along with bits of your clothes and your wet underwear hanging around your ankle. "They're about to see you come. Make sure you're loud, let them know how much fun we're having."

"I can't. It's embarrassing." Not embarrassing enough for you to say your safe word. You did think about it for a moment but it would be okay, he was shielding you. "I don't want them to see me like this."

"Like what? They already think you're a slut. They all want to fuck you. Maybe I'll let them have a turn after I'm done. You won't have to do anything, you'll be a pretty set of holes for them fuck." Through his dirty talk you could hear a possessive growl rolling in his chest. "Then I... I'll show them all whose cock your cunt likes best. I'll breed you in front all of them."

"Show them I'm yours." You almost ordered despite the position you were currently in. Your pussy tightened around his pulsing cock, sucking him in deeper as you began to let your voice out more.

Big, rough, scarred hands grabbed your hips, his fingers touching, "You're so small compared to me. Yet my dick fits inside you just right. Like you were made to take it."

The brief soft moment was broken by drunken laughter, "What's happening over there?"

"Go ahead. Let them know." He glanced briefly over his shoulder, seeing one man leaning against the other, their eyes barely focused but with knowing grins on their faces when you moaned in pleasure, legs desperately trying to lock around his hips.

"Ah. See our hero is finally getting some proper payment." They snickered before resuming their walk.

"Heard that? They called you my payment. Honestly I would have done the job if it was true. However I don't think your family would agree to you being an orc's cumdump. You seem pretty happy with it though." He thrust in balls deep every time, his hips slapping against yours, his tusks pressing against your cheek, his tongue licking your tears away,

At this point you didn't care if you were caught for real.

"Come in me." You ordered again. "Shit, I'm so... fucking close. Already so full but... I want more."

He would provide. That wasn't his instincts talking either. Somewhere deep down maybe he did want that too, he was about to fill you with his seed after all, the natural next step would be providing you with anything you needed.

His cock didn't stop pulsing while he filled you with hot cum, he kept you on it, making sure your pussy felt every twitch, every hot pump of seed as you milked it from him. You felt your body go slack against him, your eyes falling closed as soon as your orgasm thundered through your body.

"Hey, doll, are you alright?" You didn't answer past a few grunts. "Fuck. Guess you couldn't handle all that after all." He pulled you off his cock and pulled your clothes on the best as he could. It was a shabby job but if he walked quickly no one would notice. "Let's get you back to my room. I'll order us some food and drinks, clean your pussy up a little while you get your energy back." You regained your wits just enough to cup his jaw, feeling the many scars he got over the years of mercenary work, and pull him into a kiss, causing a deep dark blush to bloom across his face. "Little vixen."

okay but... i need to share this idea... i cant stop thinking about jk being super horny for his roomate, and then one night he finds out that you have a camgirl account and he just cant stop watching it....

— contents and warnings; smut, pwp, camgirl au, camgirl!reader x jungkook, sex work, roommate au, masturbation (male and female), dirty talk, overstimulation, basically everything else is just Jungkook having nasty thoughts

— words; 1,3k 

~ 

Jungkook knew it was you. 

There was absolutely no doubt in his mind. It was you. It was your bedroom — from the dainty fairy lights over your headboard to the soft, creme-colored sheets he had removed from the washing machine just a few days prior. Those were your socks, those thigh-high, black ones he always loved to see you wear, matched with your red plaid skirt (his favorite). It was nothing but a worthless piece of fabric now, pushed above the level of your spread-out thighs and covering absolutely nothing. 

Those were your fingers running up and down your covered slit, and the shiny color of the naipolish he had helped you choose stood out against the laced black fabric of your panties. The vision of the camera cut just beneath your neck — white blouse opened, your tits spilling out over the thin fabric — but he knew the traces of your body rather well. And, more than that, he knew your voice very well.

It was his, however, that broke the stillness of his shadowy bedroom. Jungkook tried his best to suppress it, but the moan fought its way through his defenses, leaving his mouth like a whiny, airy exclamation. He could only hope that you didn’t catch it. 

His cock was painfully hard in his grip, throbbing as he watched you slowly push your drenched panties to the side. He gasped. Your pussy was so perfect and puffy that he felt himself leaking inside his loose shorts, his body begging for him to start pumping himself. But he couldn’t, not yet. 

Performing an erotic dance that Jungkook had grown shamefully used to, your fingers traveled between your folds as you opened your legs further apart. A small donation box popped up on the corner of your transmission, but neither of you paid attention to it. He could tell that you were horny that night, because there was no preparation: one second you were gasping while teasing your entrance and, the next, two of your fingers were plunging inside your pussy, a beautiful moan dripping from your lips. 

Now he could move.

Jungkook was never super imaginative as a child, but, in that lustful instant, he was using every ounce of his brain to envision himself sinking past your folds, and into the soft, velvety hug of your walls. He was sure you would be so heavenly, so tight and soaked for his cock. The squeeze of his hand around his thick length couldn’t even compare to the real thing, and that was a painful realization, something that was eating at his insides. 

“Feels so good,” you whined out and, for a hopeful second, he thought you were talking directly at him. 

Jungkook wanted that. He wanted to be the reason why you felt good. He wanted to see your body squirm under his touches, wanted to experience the delicious sensation of your wetness sucking his fat cock in, milking him dry until he had no choice but to fill you up with his cum. He wanted to see you find your high as you wrapped around him, wanted those moans to be his, and his alone. 

The fact that you were so dangerously close, just down the corridor of your small shared apartment, didn’t help with his overbearing fantasies. It all seemed so possible, so palpable, that sometimes Jungkook would convince himself that he was simply practicing for a moment that would eventually happen. 

But you didn’t think of him like that, he was certain of it. 

So that was what he was left with: watching you through a screen, hoping you wouldn’t hear him.

“Fuck,” he groaned, throwing his head back. He could notice himself starting to tip over the edge, toes curling as he fought to keep his eyelids open. The come-and-go of your fingers inside your drenched cunt was hypnotic, he couldn’t move his gaze away from it. And it all sounded so good: those little whines and whimpers you were letting out, the lewd wet sounds of your pussy. 

Sometimes he watched you use a vibrator to get yourself off. Those orgasms were always so intense, left you buckling up your hips and sobbing out something he couldn’t understand; yet the loud vibration muted the noises of your fingers moving in and out of yourself. And that was just so, so much better. Jungkook wanted to see (to hear) how soaked you were, wanted to imagine that it was he who got you so riled up. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he mumbled, hoping you’d hear him telepathically or something. “Wanna fuck your pussy so bad.”

On his monitor, you moaned out. “I’m so close.” 

Jungkook imagined you were telling him that. He imagined he was between your legs, licking his way between your folds, making you unravel on his tongue; his fingers curling in just the right way to have you squirming for him. Or maybe that he was pumping himself in and out of you; your nails trailing down his back and his cock hitting deep inside your pussy in a way that you could only think about how good it felt.  

That was the chaotic sea of disconnected fantasies that pushed him over the edge, his white cum dripping over his shorts and making a mess on his lower abdomen. Jungkook groaned and whispered your name as he came, his hand squeezing his cock even through his high. He didn’t stop: he only stopped when you did. 

He whined at the feeling, which was starting to get painful now, but still watched as you played with yourself, fingers coming out to tease your clit instead. Your actions were much faster now, less coordinated; your breaths were shallow and quick, full of high-pitched moans and broken sobs. Jungkook could see your nipples through your clear shirt; he could see the trembling of your thighs; the way it seemed as if your body was trying to pull away from the pleasure, as if it was too much. 

“Gonna cum,” you moaned out, and Jungkook could’ve literally cried in relief. His breathing was ragged, knees weak with the sensitivity he was putting himself through. He didn’t know how his cock was still hard, but he knew that he couldn’t stop stroking it. You were just so flawless; and angel and a demon at the same time. He wanted to fuck you so bad. “I wanna c-cum, please.”

More messages on the corner of the stream, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you. Your orgasm washed like a tidal wave over you, making your whole body shake as your fingers continued to work overtime, pushing your limits. If he thought the sounds you were making before were amazing, the ones you produced during your orgasm were bordering on a work of art. Your moans got Jungkook whimpering and sobbing, another, smaller amount of cum shooting out of his cock and dripping down his fingers. 

By the time it was over, it was as if he couldn’t even think properly. 

Like clockwork, he typed some generic compliment in the chat, a simple price to pay for having another great orgasm in your name, before logging off and discarding his computer for the night. He wished he could donate more often: it always made you so happy, but he simply couldn’t throw all that money away all the time. He needed to control himself. 

Yet, the last thing Jungkook had when it came to you was any sort of self control. He’d be back for the next stream, like always.

Master Post: Submitting To the Alien Barbarian

You sign up for an Alien breeding program, and the fact that they're brutal barbarians is icing on the cake.

TW/CW: rough consensual sex, primal play, knotting, breeding, aliens, dominance/submission, blood play, spanking, pregnancy, overstimulation, anal play, gagging and violence.

WIP - Current word count: 11065

| #1 | #2 | #3 | #4 | #5 | #6 | #7 |

Minotaur Ranch

cw: cnc, dubious consent, monster fucking, bestiality(?)

Based on the Eggpregtober Fic 3

I keep imagining what it'd be like to work on a Minotaur Ranch.

The beasts mostly keep to themselves, grazing the fields and laying around in the shade. They can act real cute with you sometimes. Nuzzling into your palm when you scratch their head just right. Mooing impatiently to be let out after being cooped up at night. It's easy to forget they're running on primal instinct until one shoved you against a wall and rips through your pants.

That's when you remember the rules of the ranch: Don't pet the Minotaur, Don't feed the Minotaur, and Don't ever present your ass to a Minotaur.

You hadn't thought these rules were that important.

How could you have known that petting and rubbing their bodies with soothing touches would be seen as an act of submission. It never would have occurred to you that feeding them a bit of your lunch every once in a while would be seen as a sign of courtship.

And when you turned around to pick up some equipment off the floor, how could you foreseen that the bull behind you would take it as a sign you were in heat.

Muscular hands hold you off the ground. As your legs dangle below you, you feel the wet muzzle of your Minotaur lick into your neck. It's meant to be a soothing gestures as he lines his bovine cock against your opening, but all you feel is terror at the rough fucking about to take place.

You've seen the ways the Minotaur's fight each other in the fields. It's part of their DNA to show dominance to the weak. You've heard of monster "bitching" before, and you know it's supposed to be an act of ferocious claiming meant to humiliate a subservient other.

You close your eyes, waiting for the pain of being split on Minotaur cock, but instead yelp as they pull you up further off the ground and lick you. Their tongue is long, wet and thick, thicker than a human cock. You can't help but moan as it breaches your hole. That only seems to encourage it, roughly thrusting it's tongue into you as deep as it can go. You writhe in its grip. At the angle its holding you, you can look down and see its tongue pushing your skin taut.

Once it's satisfied you've been opened enough it moves you down, back over its cock and thrusts inside. It doesn't hurt. It's so gentle with you, fucking you like it knows you weren't built for the full force of a Minotaur's strength. You clench down as you cum from the treatment. It bellows loud and low at how good you feel.

It fucks you against the wall like that. Slowly rocking forward into your human frame You can't help but imagine if you had been any other Minotaur. Would it have fucked you harder? Or was Minotaur mating far softer than you gave them credit for? You'll have to answer those questions later. Right now, you just want to focus on your next orgasm.

You know its close when it starts to breathe heavier and thrust a little faster. Wet slapping sounds fill the air as its balls hit your thighs. In one final thrust, it groans and hot cum fills you. You can feel its balls draw up behind you. You didn't realize how long a Minotaur could cum until minutes passed and you were still being filled. Most of it has pooled between your legs and onto the floor, but your bulging tummy is aching from what little can fill it.

But you love it. You loved being bred by your bull. You wished you could be fucked over and over again just like this.

As it pulls out of you and holds you limp in its grasp, it hands you over to another Minotaur. The whole herd had watched you be claimed, now they think your a mare in heat. You can't blame them. As you spread your legs for the next bull, you think about how good it is to work on a Minotaur ranch.

Ancient Vampire Partner as a Service Top Headcanons

Warnings: Pure smut. Mentions of death, blood, violence. No gender specified, but reader do get periods. Implication of abusive relationship. Author's note: I wrote an extensive introduction to this post, but then I realised that was mostly me rambling. So I decided to get straight (and kinda gay) to the point. Shall we? Divider by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

Here's my take on how I think the sexual dynamic between a human and their ancient vampire lover would go:

Your ancient vampire partner knew they had to be gentle and careful with you. Much like us when carrying a newborn puppy, they were aware of how easily your bones could break if they got too excited. Since sex for them was now more of an echo from their human days and not a survival need, they were ok with going without sex for long periods of time, perhaps waiting until you were ready to be turned. For now, they thought it was safer to wait.

You, on the other hand, were very much not ok with this. You were human, your body evolved to make happy chemicals from sex. As if that wasn't enough, the main survival strategy of your partner's species was looking hot as fuck to lure humans, getting their thoughts so clouded by lust that they'd ignore the stone cold touch, the sharp fingernails, the bluish hue of their skin and the sharpness of their teeth. Your whole body went crazy just by looking at them.

They knew you couldn't help it. So, whenever you were needy and in the mood, they didn't mind putting you on their lap, back against their chest, and touch you until you've had enough. They loved being able to make you feel good, whispering on your ear while playing with your body: "What do you want to try today?" "Do you want me to get one of our toys?" "Does it feel good like this?" "Is this intensity enough?"

In the days you desperately needed to feel them inside of you, they ignored their own desire while watching you ride them mesmerised, gently guiding your hips up and down while kissing and caressing whatever part of your beautiful, soft and warm body they could reach. God, how pretty you looked with your eyes out of focus, using their body to get off and scratch that itch.

And when you were too tired they gladly took the lead, paying attention to your every reaction, focusing on how to serve you better: "Hold my shoulders tight so I can reach deeper without hurting you, ok?" "Slow and steady, precious, or you'll be tired before we can have the amount of fun you deserve." "Here, it will feel even better if you touch yourself too."

But they were far from being selfless. The moment you got your period they morphed into a feral and self-serving beast, unable to control themselves any more than a hungry lion would if near a trapped deer. This was one of the very few times they could feed off of you and they were not letting all this food go to waste.

You'd get properly cushioned in a comfortable position, a heating pad on your lower belly, your legs on their shoulders and they would lick you clean. Prepare to be there for a while, no amount of begging would make them let you get up until they're finished. Of course you always tried to. Every time this happened, they'd first try to convince you with love and praises, but their tone got increasingly more authoritative and mean until you couldn't recognise your lover anymore. "My baby, you taste so good." "How can you be so good to me, my little angel?" "Can't you hold on just a bit more? Please? For me?" "Oh, you're being tortured with too many orgasms? You poor thing, that sounds so terrible." "Pretty, you're not getting up. Don't think that you have a choice just because I'm trying to be nice." "Maybe if I show you how painful I can make it you'll realise how good you're having it stop being such a whiny ungrateful brat. You want this, my baby? You want me to hurt you? So don't make me hurt you."

In the end they'd kiss your whole weak body and your puffed teary face while begging for your forgiveness. They'd say they don't deserve you, they are a monster, they just don't know how to control themselves when you smell like this and they were so hungry. You'd be pampered: a hot bath, body massage, your favourite food, that thing you've been eyeing for so long but was way too out of your budget.

They'd do just about anything you ask for. Anything but promise not to do it again.

Werewolf bf that almost cums in his pants when his human gf playfully bites his neck, not yet aware of werewolf mating and marking

You're sitting in his lap slowly grinding against your werewolf boyfriend's half-hard cock as you make out. his big hands circle your waist guiding your movements, back and forth along his lap steadily.

He can smell in the air your arousal as you get worked up. it's hot knowing how much you enjoy this as much as he is. the two of you break apart, gasping for air. You don't stay parted for long before you're leaning into him again, this time kissing his jaw and down his neck.

Your werewolf lover groans in pleasure and almost unthinkingly bares his neck to you, letting you have more of his warm skin. Every time you suck on his skin you can feel him shudder, and buck his hips up against yours. you're sure that you've left a hickey or two already but you decide to tease him a little more, scraping your teeth along his neck teasingly before biting him properly.

He moans brokenly and thrusts his hips up against yours sharply, then you feel a wet patch forming between your legs right where his cock is,

"did you just-" you both start at the same time

"did you just mark me?" he asks.

"did you just cum?" you demand.

He tells you that yes he did cum- but way more importantly you bit his neck, which is apparently a werewolf costume of how they mark their mates. He's not upset just shocked, and a little embarrassed because he came in his sweats.

it feels like his blood is on fire. the mark doesn't last, not like a real bound mark would have, but it still has him all riled up. He wants you to bite him, he wants to bite you, and he wants to fuck you and cum inside of you this time.

His Treasure || Part 1

Pirate!Baekhyun x Reader - Series 

Summary: It’s either on your knees and beg for your life or you’re walking the plank.

Moodboard by @byunfirstlady

Prologue (read first!) | Next

Your family bar had opened roughly around half an hour ago, and it was pretty packed. It was a busy day for you and you couldn’t even have a moments rest because the place was bustling with people.

“(Y/n)!” You dad called for you. You looked up from the table you just finished serving and saw your father waving you over by the bar counter. Walking over to him you smiled lightly. “What is it appa?”

Your father placed his warm hand on your shoulder and rubbed it lovingly. “I’ve been watching you, and I think you deserve a well known break don’t you think? Go, take a walk for a while and then come back fresh ok?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “You want me to go out, during this time of the night, and right now in the middle of work?”

Your father nodded. “I think it’s ok to go out during this time dear, don’t worry and just trust me. Just don’t be late or get lost like you always do ok? Now off you go!”

“W-wait! H-hold up! I don’t wanna go outsi-”

Cue the door slamming in your face.

Keep reading

Should’ve read the fine print...

Minors DNI

Warning(s): NSFW, dubcon

Fem!Reader

Authors Note: First time; necessary feedback, pls! Taking requests!

It’s been about a week since you’ve moved into your new apartment. Everything about it was perfect except for one thing: you’ve explored every room but one, which was locked for some reason. (If only you had read the entire catalog ad, you would’ve understood why and that all past tenants never stayed too long). You complained about it to your landlord, who hired a locksmith free of charge, thankfully. This is what your actions have come to, sadly: you, standing before hundreds of slimy, purple tentacles, coming from all around the mystery room.

You try and back away quietly toward the door in hopes of being able to leave unnoticed. Pitifully, the floorboards creek(damn, this shitty building). The tentacles immediately move in your direction as you run for the door, only to be blocked off by more tentacles. They push you to the ground and squeeze around your arms and legs, probing at your torse.

They’re not hurting you; they seem pretty curious, actually. The tentacle's touch is soft and gentle. One tentacle stops at your face...it’s...caressing your cheek? Their touches were seemingly affectionate at first but quickly became provocative. They began to slip under your clothes, feeling you up.

Again, their touch was gentle but still violating nonetheless; they groped your breasts, sucking on your nipples and coiling around them. You try and keep as much dignity you have left, biting your lip to hold back your moans. The tentacles seem to sense your defiance and dislike it very much. They tear through your clothing, leaving only your thin panties to cover you. They curl around your thighs, spreading your legs to tease you, rubbing against your clothed cunt, and nuzzling your clit; their suckers find it and abuse the little bundle of nerves.

A blissful whine escapes your lips; you can’t remember the last time you felt this good. The tentacles stroke your body with satisfaction, assumingly rewarding you for your submission. You can feel yourself getting wetter by the second. Your sense of dignity is long gone by now; you’re a wailing mess. Hair sticking to your sweat-coated skin, tear-filled eyes rolled up into your head, and while your mouth hangs open with a bead of drool leaking from the side.

The tentacles can sense your arousal, not to mention your drenched underwear. They move your panties to the side and continue to toy with your aching pussy, stroking your wet hole and sucking on your sore clit until you cum.

The tentacles let you catch your breath, lovingly massaging your body. Soon enough, you’re suspended in the air as more tentacles hold you, creating a makeshift bed to place you comfortably. Another tentacle approaches your face again, latching itself to your mouth and pushing past your lips to curl around your tongue. Is this its way of kissing you? Is it showing affection?

It’s a bit gross, but the tentacles mean well. Your body suddenly jolts as you feel a tentacle push against your sopping hole. It uses its suckers to tease you again, but as you grind yourself against it, the tentacle penetrates you, pressing against your walls to search for your sweet spot. The tentacle in your mouth begins to thrust in and out as you feel another tentacle enter your ass. The tentacle in your pussy moves rhythmically with the others as it’s sucker hit your g-spot. At this point, your mind is nothing but mush. All you see are white spots as your legs quake under the tentacles, unable to hold yourself up longer.

The tentacles wrap around your waist and lift you. You’re now ass up, face down, and being fucked mercilessly in all three holes. You can’t take it; it’s too good, too much, too many. You feel more tentacles enter your already full holes. Doesn’t this monster know you have a limit?

It doesn’t care, really. All it wants is to see you cum, and cum, again. You can feel yourself getting dizzier after each orgasm, one after another. Before you know it, you’re waking up from your fucked out haze. The tentacles seemed to have stopped fucking your brains out a while ago; they’re all curled up around your protectively, some still inside you. You try and crawl towards the door, but you’re body is useless at this point.

The tentacles drag you back to them, curling around to massage your worn-out body. It seems you won’t be leaving this room any time soon...or ever.

...

Might as well move your stuff in here.

Kinkmas: Day Five

The Orc

Tw: Blood

You weren’t expecting to get lost in the woods. Of course you weren’t. The falling snow covered your footprints, forcing you to try to guess which way you came since you couldn’t even follow them back now. The snow started falling harder as you continued your walk. Surely you’d find the path again soon, right? How long had you really been walking?

You hadn’t dressed as warmly as you should have since you had wanted to leave before the snow started, but it had come early. Much earlier than even the reports of it being early said that it would come. Your heart was a lump in your throat as the chill settled in your body. How much longer could you keep this up, really?

As you wonder that, your movements becoming sluggish as the chill frosts your bones, making them heavy. Is this really where you’re going to die? The thought sends a jolt of terror through you that is quickly followed by tears. Unfortunately, they only served to make you colder. Sniffling, you take a seat on a fallen tree, wondering how you can get your bearings.

Suddenly, there’s the sound of breaking branches. Your throat felt tight as you turned to look at it. How could this possibly get worse? The jolt of terror that had shot through you came again full force when a creature easily twice your size stepped out of the cluster of trees to your right. The color drained from your face as it, she?, approached you.

Her long hair was braided into a plethora of small locks, adorned with all different kinds of feathers and beads. Some of them click together as she approached you in an almost calming and hypnotic way. Her tusks draw your eye as she crouched down to your level. Your mouth felt dry as she grabbed your chin, turning your head this way and that as she regarded you. As she did, a gust of cold wind blew over you, making you shiver. She seemed to notice this, because she gruffed before sweeping you up into your arms.

She held you close to her body, the warmth of her skin seeping into yours. How could she be so warm when it was so cold out? When snow was piling up in inches around you? You had heard stories about the monsters that lived in caves here, but you had never expected that one would be kind enough to save you by carrying you back to her cave.

She set you down on the floor of the cave, on a pile of furs. You swallowed uncomfortably, unsure of why she would have saved you. Surely it wasn't out of any kind of kindness or mercy, right? She was a monster. As you looked around the dark cave, barely lit by the light outside and a small fire she has in a pit a few yards from the entrance of it.

In a surprisingly soft voice, she said something you don't understand. In response, you shrugged and shook your head. What she said might as well have been in a language from another world. You couldn't even try to begin to try to guess what she said. This makes her frown as she regarded you again. Then, she sat down beside you, setting her hand on your leg. Your face flushed slightly as she moved it up slowly, back to talking in whatever her language is.

You paused, then nodded carefully. What can only be described as a smirk turned up the corner of her lips. Within seconds, she had her head between your legs. You groaned as her teeth skimmed your pants, then your panties, then teased the lips of your dripping cunt. Her tusks scratched at your thighs before they punctured you. You winced, but she kept you in place, her tongue finally sliding over you, teasing your clit. A moan of pleasure rolled from your lips, no longer caring about the blood trickling down your legs. Not when her mouth feels like that.

You let a surprised yelp when one of her large fingers slid inside of your sopping hole, but you didn’t flinch as she slowly started pumping in and out. Instead you encourage her, gripping her hair with one hand and one of her tusks with the other. She said something in that language you don’t understand, but she quickly went back to pleasuring you, drawing out orgasm after orgasm.

With a fuzzy brain, you reached for her neck to pull her up. You wanted to pleasure her too, but she growled and held you tighter, obviously eager to continue her meal.

Who could care about being lost in the snow of this was the result?

Kinkmas: Day Four

Winter Wolf

Your Werewolf Boyfriend was insistent that you needed to stay inside when he shifted, especially in the winter. Something about the way your warm skin would smell in the air would drive him crazy, apparently. So whenever he shifts, you stay inside and do your best to respect him and his wishes. That being said, you can’t help but peek out sometimes, hoping to see your gorgeous white wolf of a boyfriend.

If you’re lucky, he’ll be patrolling your “den”, hoping to catch a whiff of you. A few times you’ve seen him mid-shift, a monstrously tall creature that you think would be just as likely to rip out your throat as he is to fuck you into the dirt. The thought makes you shudder.

One night, you decide to crack open the window. The heater is broken and won’t stop blowing, making it unbearably hot. The cold winter air feels so good when you stick your face up to the window. You don’t stick it out. Not quite. Just up to it. This way you’re not technically breaking your boyfriend’s rule, right?

Suddenly, you hear loud footsteps and low snarling. Every hair on the back of your neck stands on end as your breath catches. Slowly, you step away from the window, doing your best to slide it back down quietly, but it’s too late. He caught your scent.

In a matter of moments, the simple wooden door to the front of the cabin is ripped open, the now useless knob clattering against the tiled floors. Your Werewolf Boyfriend- tall, muscular, menacing- stands in the doorway, half transformed. He has to duck to get inside the doorway. His long claws scraping the floor. Your heart is in your throat as you stare at him in awe and a twinge of fear.

He sniffs the air, though only for a moment before his eyes land on you. Like a hunter who has found his prey. You don’t even have time to scramble back before he’s on you, pinning you under his massive body. The warmth of him is comforting now that the cold winter wind is blowing in through the demolished door and still ajar window. His fat tongue licks up your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“Mine,” he growls as his claws dig into your waist. “My mate. Mine.”

You can only let out a tiny, “Yours” in response as he easily tears off your clothes.

His fat tongue trails down your body until he starts tongue fucking you, making you writhe and whine under him. His claws hold you in place, threatening to puncture your skin if you move too much. You whimper and whine, squirm and scream his name, but he doesn’t let up until you’ve orgasmed more times than you can count.

Only when you’re seeing stars and feel like a limp doll, does he let up. You draw a hard breath, trying to regain yourself, but that’s only for that breath. He nips your neck just as he slides into you, his massive girth stretching you out more than you thought he could.

“Baby, hang on. Wait,” you gasp, gripping his furry shoulders. “It’s… fuck you’re so big.”

He chuckles but doesn’t stop as he finally bottoms out inside of you, panting like a dog with his knot threatening your entrance. Maybe you’ll have to “accidentally” open the window next month if it leads to this.

A Thousand Words

A/N: My sister and I recently introduced our best friend to the Twilight series, and it made me want to write Carlisle again, so here we are, with the addition of Jasper, because Jasper deserves all the love <3.

Title: A Thousand Words

Summary: The Cullens are moving. Again. And the youngest of them may just have some qualms about it, resulting in slamming a door in Jasper’s face, and an overdue conversation with Carlisle.

Words: 3294

You let out a sigh as you dropped the last of your books into the cardboard box. It was more or less full now, of things you felt you’d only just taken out and stacked on the shelf above your unused bed. Other boxes, big and small, littered your room. The walls were bare, the shelves were empty, and it suddenly looked bigger than it had ever before.

If your heart still beat, you figured you would have felt something more than this strange irritation just… floating around inside you. You somehow felt as though you could burst. You didn’t remember much of your human years, but the one feeling that had never been lost to you was the feeling of being so overwhelmingly emotional you’re really not quite sure which emotion to focus on.

Right now, the sight of the boxes and the total emptiness was dredging up emotions you felt every few years or so, always for the same reason, though this time seemed to be the first in which it was the worst.

You stood stone still for a moment, staring at the contents of the box. Your senses attuned to the other sounds of the house. You could hear Jasper and Alice in the room beside yours, your sister’s giggling followed by your brother’s deep chuckles. Rosalie was with Esme and Carlisle, packing things into one of the cars, and Emmett and Edward were lugging boxes downstairs, playfully arguing over something or other. They were all fine. You could even say they were all happy. Which was more than you could say for yourself.

You shut the lid of the box, heaving another sigh for good measure despite the lack of breath.

“You alright in here, Y/N?” Jasper’s voice floated into your room, that common mix of concern and light-heartedness in his tone, and you turned a little, glancing at him over your shoulder. His head was poking through the open doorway, not really in your room, but the look on his face and the sheer fact that he was Jasper told you he’d sensed your – how could you say it? – questionable mood.

“Yes,” you said, turning back around. As if to show him you were definitely alright, you walked over to the other boxes, grabbing the tape and scissors on the way. You could feel his eyes on you still, following your every move, wondering how to go about it, whatever it was. It would certainly be something. None of your siblings – or your parents, for that matter – would have heard you answer a question like you had and then completely bypass it. Rosalie would have been the best. She was always the best. She’d shut the door and put on her so-called mothering tone, and, usually, you would let it spill within two minutes. Alice would be kind and funny, and would only ask again what was wrong when you were laughing, whether between tears or not. Edward would ask and make it so that the moment he turned to walk away, you’d want to tell him anyway. Emmett would pick you up, screaming, and not let you down until you agreed to tell him. Esme would give you space until you came to find her, and Carlisle would patiently talk you through it in a number of ways he’d found to work over your three hundred years together.

But Jasper… Jasper was the master of emotions. And it was for that reason you usually found it both easy and difficult to talk to him about whatever was going on at whatever time. The relationship between you was amazing, as it was with all your siblings, but supposedly non-feeling vampires did, believe it or not, find it hard to talk about human emotions. Not that any of them would change it. They were likely the only clan who still had that cherished bit of mortality. They’d hold onto it for the entirety of their eternal lives, undoubtedly.

“I can hear your brain thinking.” You couldn’t see him, but you could hear the knowing smile in his voice. Unfortunately, today was not a day you were feeling a little upset or angry, or anything else humans tended to feel. You were all of that at once, plus a little more, and you knew it would do no one any good for you to talk about them now. Maybe later.

“That’s Edward’s gift,” you said sullenly, dropping a bubble-wrapped picture frame in a box.

“I don’t know, Y/N-” His cool, Southern accent that you’d told him many times before you would be able to fall asleep to if you were human seemed to float around the room- “it’s pretty loud.”

“Just stop, Jaz,” you said quietly, though still loud enough for him to hear. Jasper dutifully went silent, and you wished he’d leave before you got frustrated at him, but of course, he was your brother, and he was a Cullen.

He was hesitant when he spoke next. “Do you want me to sit in here while you pack?” he asked, stepping a foot into the room, and your hands fisted.

“I’ve already finished,” you told him, your jaw clenching.

“Alright.” Alright was your favourite word when he said it. It always had been. That sweet, almost melodic drawl of the voice you loved. “I’ll help you take them out to the car, then, how about that?”

It was childish of you, but the sudden surge of absolute irritation caused a swell of strong wind to swirl down your arms. On instinct, you stuck your hand behind you, and the wind burst from your fingers, flying towards the door. Fortunately for Jasper, he’d expected it, and his own hand shot out to stop the door from slamming in his face.

You turned at the lack of noise, faint frown lines dusting your forehead. Jasper’s lips were pressed in a thin line, his eyebrows raised a little, left arm braced against the door. He was still for a moment, and both of you were quiet, you because you had a sudden newfound fear swirling in your gut, Jasper likely because he was trying to process what’d just happened.

He moved after a second that felt like a decade, straightening his back and letting his hand fall to his side. He looked at you, and you wondered if you’d be dead had you been human.

“You come and find me when you’re ready for some help,” he said simply, as soft as Jasper could be. He sent you a tight-lipped smile that held a little more than what smiles are usually intended for, and stepped back, shutting the door behind him.

If vampires were capable of crying, you would have burst and broken there and then. You were a terrible person. You weren’t even a person. You were just terrible. Who did you think you were, using your gifts to slam the door in your brother’s face? The brother who had only been trying to help? He had felt your mood, of course, which was why he’d been the one to come, and instead of accepting his help, you’d been too irritated to actually stop and listen to him.

You all but fell to the floor when you heard Alice and Jasper’s voices again next door, no doubt talking about you. You drew your knees up to your chest and buried your head between them, shutting your eyes against the onslaught of emotions. God, turn you human so you could at least have an excuse for feeling this way.

When you heard a light knock at your door, you knew it could be no one other than your father. Nobody else would have come to you less than two minutes after you’d pushed Jasper away. They were your siblings, yes, and Esme was your mother, but Carlisle’s blood ran through yours, and you’d been by each other’s side for three centuries; a connection such as that was unmatchable.

You didn’t reply to the knock, but you didn’t need to. The door opened, and you heard the click as it shut again a few seconds later. You didn’t move, even when you saw the shadow fall over you and felt the presence at your side. You simply kept your head between your knees, your arms hugging them to you, and after a little while, you slowly leaned over until you were resting against his side. He slipped an arm around you, and you immediately felt some of that overwhelming emotion seep out of you.

“Dad, I’m an idiot,” you muttered almost inaudibly, even for Carlisle’s vampire ears.

He made a quiet noise of disapproval and reached a hand over to gently twirl some hair around a finger. “Don’t say that,” he told you.

“Jasper isn’t happy.”

He chuckled then. “Jasper knows how to deal with sisters who are… how should I say it… feeling a little on the emotional side.” He said it knowingly, and you raised your head, sending him a glare. He merely rose an eyebrow in response, the corner of his lips turning upwards at your obvious disagreement with his words and, coincidentally, how you’d just proved them. Sighing, your face fell, and your shoulders slacked. Carlisle pulled you to him again, rubbing a hand up and down your arm for a moment.

He glanced around the room. You had packed mostly everything, apart from a few photo frames next to a wad of bubble wrap on a little glass table by your now empty bookshelf. He imagined you’d been looking at them when your sudden mood change had swung around, no matter how much it’d been simmering over the past few weeks. They were all of you and your siblings. One at their graduation, all in their caps and gowns, huge smiles on their faces. He and Esme were stood beside them, you pinned against Emmett’s chest with his crossed arms. He remembered that day as one of the more unforgettable graduations.

Next to the frame stood a photo of you and your sisters on the couch, curled up against each other as you watched a movie. He was sure Esme had taken that some twenty years ago without any of you knowing. Those were the best kind of photos.

The third was one he still smiled at each time he saw it. A small photo of him and you, taken after the invention of the camera in the 1800s. It was the original thing, given to you as soon as technology allowed, so it was grainy and faded, but he could still see the smiles on your faces, the straightness of your backs, your old, classy clothes that always made him realise his (and your) age. But you looked happy. You didn’t have as many frown lines, and even through the hazy quality the glint of your eyes was prominent.

No, Carlisle wasn’t totally sure what was wrong with you right now, but it would be three hundred years wasted if he hadn’t learnt to decipher his daughter’s emotions somehow. Besides, Jasper had had a pretty good idea, and after speaking with him for a brief while, Carlisle figured he was probably right.

“It’s the moving, yes?” he asked softly, and at your lack of immediate response, he knew he’d hit the nail on the head, so to speak. He let a sigh waft through his nose, gently patting your upper arm. “You know we have to, Y/N.” It was a pitiful try at reasoning with you. He genuinely was unsure of the number of times you’d moved in your years as a vampire. Whether state to state or country to country, settling into one place became all the more difficult when you knew you wouldn’t be staying there very long.

“I know that,” you spoke against his jacket. “But that doesn’t mean I still can’t hate it.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” Carlisle told you. “We’re going to a beautiful new place… new people, a new home, new school… can’t you find the excitement in that, despite the understandable grievances?” He tilted his head a little to look down at you, brushing some hair from your forehead.

You shook your head, eyebrows raising for a fraction of a moment. “It loses the excitement after the third or fourth time,” you said, staring down at your fidgeting fingers, “now it’s just a burden. I think I’d rather we be found out. That’d bring more excitement.”

Carlisle frowned at that as he pulled away. Really, what you’d said had been suicidal, and it was enough of a shock to almost cause his heart to start beating again. Fortunately for him, you noticed his seemingly surprised silence and turned to face him. Your mouth opened at the expression on his face, and the moment his lips moved to speak, you beat him to it. “I don’t mean that, Dad,” you assured him, an edge to your voice as you lightly shook your head and shut your eyes, “obviously I don’t want that. I just… it gets tiring, you know? Constantly moving about. I don’t know how you do it.”

Carlisle settled at your explanation. His shoulders fell a little and he clasped his hands together. “Well,” he started, dipping his head, “I do it because I know it’s the only way we can live peacefully. Yes, I’d rather we stay in one place, and I’m sure the rest of the family agree, but…” He paused for a moment, and you turned to look at him, a hopeful intrigue shining in your eyes. “This is our life, and there’s nothing we can do about it now except carry on as we have been doing and try to see the good in it all.” He took your hand in his. “Deep down, we’re all tired of it, little one. I promise you that. But it’s a sacrifice we have to make in order to stay together.”

You knew that was true. You did. There was no way around it. You’d been at this house in Nevada for longer than you’d been anywhere else, and you supposed that was a gift in itself. You hadn’t seen the next one yet, but your father had taken pictures. It was nice. Really nice. Fortunately for the Cullens, Carlisle’s wealth meant your life was never bad or underprivileged, wherever you were. You were always allowed the largest room, despite being the only one besides Edward who didn’t have to share. There was usually a game room, and large TVs, and the last one in Florida had had a pool…

Slowly, your chest heaved with a sigh of non-existent breath, and Carlisle took it as a quiet resignation to the situation. He smiled wider this time, bringing you into a tight hug, and you hugged back with all the strength you could muster, breathing in his scent that hadn’t changed once in all your years together.

Carlisle pressed a kiss to the top of your head, resting his chin there for a moment. Despite his words, he wasn’t oblivious to the fact that they could only mean so much for so long. Soon, the others would begin to tire of constantly moving, too, and they’d stop making friends for fear of only having their companionship for a matter of years before never seeing them again, and they’d slack in school or run away or begin to get overwhelming emotions concerning the trivialities of the vampire’s mind being compared to the human’s. You had suffered through them all, now. Over three hundred and thirty years you’d been ‘dead’. You were older than most of your siblings put together, and yet you were still stuck with the – perhaps aged slightly – mind of a weeks-from-turning-fifteen girl from the 1600s. It was hard, and he knew it better than anyone, but for all the hardships the both of you had had to endure, he knew you were tougher than even you believed.

“I should go apologise to Jasper,” you mumbled.

“I think he’d like that.” He gave you a smile as you kissed his cheek. “Go on. I’ll finish wrapping those photo frames.”

You nodded, no unneeded words passing between them. You stood to your feet and walked towards the door, opening it to see Rosalie helping Edward carry his piano down the winding stairs.

“Go on, Rose!” Emmett called from the top of the stairs, a huge grin on his lips.

Rosalie, who, for a vampire, was struggling to ensure she didn’t miss a step and trip down the stairs while also holding one end of the piano, shot Emmett a murderous glare. “A bit of help would be nice, you know?”

“Yeah, but this is my daily entertainment, right here!” Emmett shot back, just as Alice passed you, standing a little awkwardly by your door, and flashed you a smile. You mirrored it as your sister went into your room, likely to speak to Carlisle, and noticed Jasper stood a little behind Emmett, his own smile stretched across his lips as he watched the banter between his siblings.

You tucked some hair behind your ear and walked over to him, sticking your hands in your pockets. Jasper noticed you coming, but he stayed silent, continuing to watch the others as Emmett decided to ‘help’ Rosalie by jumping behind her and guiding her back with his hands on her waist, obviously adding the occasional pinch that had the blonde screaming and almost dropping the piano once or twice.

“You’re going to make her drop it!” Edward admonished.

“Leave her alone, Emmett,” Esme called up the stairs, before another squeal sounded from Rosalie.

You stopped beside Jasper. A couple seconds passed before you sighed and glanced down at your feet. “Will you help me take my stuff downstairs, Jaz?” you asked hopefully, shifting a little beside him.

Jasper turned his head to look down at you. “I sure can,” he said, any sign that he’d been at all perturbed by your situation earlier completely gone. You gazed up at him, and the little smile on his face alone was enough to make you feel absolutely terrible for what you’d come to apologise for. Face falling, you pressed yourself against your brother’s chest, wrapping your arms around him. Jasper had fully expected something to that ilk, and he circled his own arms around you, chuckling softly. “Alright, there,” he said, and you smiled at the word. It sounded right, now.

“I’m sorry,” you said against his shirt.

“I know you are, Y/N,” Jasper replied easily. “I knew what I was walking into when I asked if you wanted help, after all.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, but I doubt you expected to be met with a door.”

Jasper shrugged. “Well, you expect the weirdest things when you’re a brother.” He smiled, giving a nod to Carlisle, who’d just walked out with a roll of bubble wrap, and a wink to Alice, who was following close behind. Both gave each other a smile, and Jasper gently pat your back, giving you one last squeeze. “Let’s go see about these boxes,” he said, and in that moment a thousand words were said between you that seemed to put a temporary pause on everything, “then off to Forks we go.”

Twilight Masterpost

a monster who lives out in the woods, who hides himself from humans, afraid of becoming a science experiment. but he showed himself to you because he knew by your smell that you were meant for him. he courts you with dead rabbits and fresh berries, until you're willing to come back to his cave.

there he explores your body, curious about every inch of it. his cock grows thicker and heavier while he tests out everything that makes you moan, fingering and licking and burying his snout in you.

he knows right where he fits. his need to mate takes over, and while you're wet and slippery, he pushes that fat cock inside. he groans with abject pleasure, having never felt anything but his clawed hand before. you squeeze him so tight he goes off right away, but he's not done—of course not. he'll rut you over and over until night becomes morning again, slicking in and out on a river of his own seed until he has no more left to give.

he brings your shaking body close, nuzzling his nose in your hair. he hopes he didn't hurt you in his haze of need. you'll be sore tomorrow, sure. but now you're home.

Run 2 U !

Pairing: Wonyoung! x Fem Reader!

Wonyoung has two things on her mind. One hoping to pass her classes and TWO to finally get the attention of her long time crush. Determined to make "Yn" finally notice her she accidentally might've led the girl to believe she's this creepy (but cute) stalker that comes to her workplace everyday without a fail.

Warnings: curse words for the most part from what i can remember. if im missing something i'll definitely add it as the story progresses ! idk unfunny me at times <//3

Genre: Smau, crack, strangers to lovers, a very oblivious reader <//3

Featuring: IVE wonyoung, rei & yujin! ENHYPEN jungwon, sunghoon, jay, jake & sunoo ! ITZY yuna! STAYC isa ! TXT kai & yeonjun !

Status: On going !

⠀⌗ accounts: profiles 1 profiles 2 profiles 3

chapter 1 : u r done

chapter 2 : jesussy 👿

chapter 3 : cuffed era?!

chapter 4 : hi gays 😇🏳️‍🌈

chapter 5 : dumb, dumber & dumbass

chapter 6 : what the hell loca👹

chapter 7 : how scandalous!

chapter 8 : whore tendencies

chapter 9 : raging sapphic woman

chapter 10 : i'll see u tmr [written]

chapter 11 : pretty girl

chapter 12 : WONIE???!%#@&

chapter 13 : coochie chaser

chapter 14 : a date?

chapter 15 : my wonie

chapter 16 : yass girl hang out

chapter 17 : dumb dumb by rv

chapter 18 : cookie run yuna version

chapter 19 : sacrifice for the sapphics

Tag List : Send Asks !!

@person-standing @maeum-your @ddeonuism @blessed-sky @chimajeyn @neozon3nha @acciomylove @forneveryoung @bloomedberry @hoonieswrld @centheodd @jniscvl @hiqhkey @idyllicangel @lunaflvms @soobin-chois @archerheejin @shinsou-rii @anik-4 @xranex @soobzao @fairycheol @ifwtyun @bigtoewinwin @strwberrydinosaur @certainyouthpeanut @w4nyoung @babygay-stay @tbzloonar @cha0thicpisces @luvelyxp @jamyu @kisseulgi @chiyuv @ahnneyong @jeeongyeeon @rukimisser @mierumiko @uwudaizy @heartpleasing @snghoonluvr

Schedule Not Fixed! I Upload Whenever I Feel Like It <3

#: Run2Uasks

AN: hi 🤗 this will be my very first smau pls keep that in mind !! i have never tried writing but i wanted to get out of my comfort zone and make this au. i hope you like it and if there's any feedback or questions my asks are open <3

banner made by me pls don't steal !!

Your Siren Boyfriend eventually tricking you into the water after weeks of just chatting to you on the docks. He never sings or tries to convince you to come in. He sits in the water, his arms propping him up on the low dock so you two can talk. His eyes dark as a trench, and you can’t help but worry about all the light on the surface hurting him. Even at night, it’s still brighter than where he’s from.

The night you bring him sunglasses is when he knows you’re going to be his mate. He feigns confusion and asks how to put them on. You giggle and lean forward, setting them on his face. He takes that moment to grab your wrists, yanking you into the salt water. You barely manage to catch a breath before hitting the water, not that it matters because as soon as he kisses you, you suddenly can breathe.

You want to be angry at him, but he looks so happy. He starts clicking and chirping, something he hasn’t done in a few weeks since he realized you can’t understand him. It must be like when you gets excited and revert to your mother tongue.

His shark teeth gently nip at you neck as he tugs at your clothes, encouraging you to slip out of your swimsuit. You know that you shouldn’t. This isn’t right. But you can’t help yourself. The feeling of your Siren slipping inside of you makes you whimper. He pushes you against the shifting sand of the ocean floor, slamming into you roughly. You can’t help the moans and sounds that escape your mouth. Thank God you can breathe under water now because there’s no way you could have contained yourself.

When he’s done, he eases back, burying his face between your trembling legs. His fat tongue encourages you to finish, and you do rather quickly. Once he’s satisfied, his kisses make their way back up to your lips.

“You’ll stay with me, won’t you?”

♥️Red Light♥️

Nightmare!Hoseok x Psychologist!Reader

Genre: NSFW/18+ content, Drabble Series, Monster!AU, Horror!AU, Psychological Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slow Burn 🔥

Warnings: Very nsfw content! (descriptive blood, gore, etc.) as well as sexual content. Character Death, Descriptive injuries, Harassment, Bigotry (sexism, homophobia). Intense angst all around. This story will contain themes of major horror/psychological horror and also explore obsessive behaviors and codependency. Many characters are morally gray. Please be warned!

Reminder that this story in no way, shape, or form reflects the actual ideals of the members of bts or what I think of them. Their likeness is being used but that’s all.

Summary: Fresh out of school with your psychology license, you would have never guessed your first job would be to take care of those who hide in the dark… The Nightmares.

Find my Main Masterlist here! ♥️

Nsfw/18+ 💋, Fluff 🌸, Angst 🥀, Horror 👻

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Main Story:

(Small note that the parts are not listed in chronological order on purpose ♥️)

Red Light 🥀👻

Curiosity Killed the…? 👻🥀🌸

Black Sheep 👻

Unsecured 👻🌸

Code Red 👻🌸🥀

Blood Rain 👻🥀🌸

Playing With Madness 👻🥀🌸

Call Out My Name 👻🥀🌸

Jump Rope 👻🥀

Finger Paint 👻🌸🥀

Good Boy 👻🥀

Best of Luck 👻🥀

Bubblegum Pop 👻🥀🌸

The Happiest of Trails 👻🌸🥀

White Walls 👻🥀

It All Disappears 👻🥀

Snake Eyes 👻🥀

Fair Warning 👻🥀

Twisted Hands 👻🥀🌸

Twisted Hearts 👻🥀🌸

Silver Tongue 👻🥀🌸

Whispered Kisses 👻🥀🌸

Black Swan 👻🌸

Twisted Minds 👻🥀

Graphic Canvases 👻🌸

Foiled Secrets 👻🥀🌸

Dripping Clouds 👻🥀🌸

Tea and Crumpets 👻🥀🌸

Silent Smile 👻🥀

Just Exist 👻🌸🥀

The Sweetest Promise 👻🌸🥀

Days Gone By 👻

The Depths Below 👻🥀

Star Crossed Lovers 👻🌸🥀

Snippets:

Pudding 👻🌸

Ruby Reds 👻🌸

Further 👻🥀

Silly Soirée (Crack!Halloween update!)

Polls:

Who do you think would win in a brawl?

Who would make the best birthday cake?

Who would make a successful escape from the facility?

Who would protect MC (sans Hoseok)?

Who do you consider the ‘cutest’?

Extras:

How Dr. Kim would romance you 🌸

How 061309 would romance you 🌸?👻

operation: hot girl summer

PAIRING ▸ vernon chwe x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, summer romance au, best friends to lovers

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, weed consumption, ft. annoying friends seungkwan and chan, vernon is also annoying but in moderation, so much sexual tension!!, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap!), high sex, thigh riding, fingering, vernon has a dog named taco bell

SUMMARY ▸ the summer you started putting more effort into your appearance also happens to be the summer where vernon chwe’s piercing gaze leaves you feeling like you’re floating high up in the clouds.

PLAYLIST ▸ i need u, in the summertime by warren hue, chasu • vintage by niki 

WORD COUNT ▸ 4,890 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hihi !! this is kind of my svtblr debut ?? i just wanted to write a short drabble bc i’m experiencing post concert depression and in my vernon feels rn <//3 LOL i thought of this spontaneously and spent four hours writing it but i hope you guys enjoy! 

DURING THE SUMMER FOLLOWING YOUR FRESHMAN YEAR AT COLLEGE, YOU DECIDED IT WAS TIME FOR A CHANGE.

After an entire year of wearing the same oversized sweater and denim jeans to your lecture halls and club meetings, you realized it was about time for a wardrobe upgrade. With the money you set aside from your part-time job, you spent the first week of summer buying clothing that accentuated your body type and didn’t make you look like a shapeless blob lost in a sea of fabric.

You also invested in makeup products to practice enhancing your features. Your first few attempts were downright atrocious, but many YouTube tutorials and makeup remover wipes later, you found yourself getting the hang of it.

To be honest, this was mainly spurred by your mid-finals week epiphany that you were the only one in your friend group who still looked like her high school self. Everyone had worked on their image or managed to magically glow up, but you were still stuck with the same style.

Keep reading

For 18+ only. Most fics reblogged contain mature themes. Minors, please do not interact.

Lists of Fics by Category

Lists of Fics by AU

List of Recs (requested via ask, etc)

Fic Finds

BTS Fics

Jungkook Fics Jungkook Fics by AU

Taehyung Fics (fic reblogs moved to another account) Taehyung Fics by AU

Seokjin Fics Seokjin Fics by AU

Of Fire and Love: Masterlist

(Dragon! Yoongi x Reader) (Ft. Baby! Jungkook and Baby Dragon! Hoseok)

Summary: When Dragon Yoongi finds baby Jungkook in the wreckage of a house he burned down, he can’t bring himself to kill the child. Months after someone drops off a baby at your door, you start to notice something- or someone, lurking at the edge of the woods.

Other characters: Dragon! Namjoon x Fairy! Jimin, Sorcerer! Seokjin x human! Taehyung, baby Dragon! Hoseok, Baby! Jungkook

Warnings/Tags:  Fantasy au, magical creatures, baby Jungkook domesticity, brief sickfic, brief body horror, injury, mentions of parental death, Shifting, mentions of rut cycles,  war, brief nudity, non-explicit smut, mentions of dragon dick, knots, yoongi has an inhumanly big dick, domestic bliss, PTSD, flashbacks, soulbonds,

———-

PART 1: An Unlikely Family (6.8k)

PART 2: Little Red Feathers (11.2k) 

PART 3: The Dragon Council (9.3k)

PART 4: The Manor House (20.0k)

PART 5: The Last Sorcerer (18.6k)

PART 6: Sleep Well my Love (12.8k)

PART 7: The Adventures of Koo and Hobi (20.0k)

PART 8: The Woman and The War *COMING SOON*

PART 9: THE FINALE 

———–

Bonus: FANART OF DRAGON YOONGI!!!

Bonus: FANART OF FAIRY! JIMIN

Bonus: Story Playlist

mean girls - bp x reader

genre: imagines :) summary: the 'mean girl' develops an interest in you. pairings: ot4 x reader

jennie:

jennie was your classic 'you either wanna be me, or be with me' kind of mean girl.

your first encounter with her was through a seating plan. she begrudgingly obliged to sit next to you as the teacher separated her from her rowdy friends.

each lesson you found yourself progressing in small talk with her- it went from "what's the answer?" to "oh my god you won't believe what happened earlier..." as you were opening up to each other.

you were actually beginning to look forward to the lessons despite being acutely aware of jennie's mean girl status.

eventually, as the end of term neared, jennie asked for your number to keep in touch with you over the holidays.

one thing led to another and you were attending one of her house parties. you instantly gravitated towards each other, both in a drunken stupor, and spent almost the entirety of the party at each other's side, oversharing unfiltered life stories and having a raw heart-to-heart conversation.

she even shoo'd away potential hookups in order to continue hanging out with you.

in the early hours of the morning, one mutual confession of interest led to a heavy makeout session with the mean girl.

from then on, your relationship progressed into something of a fwb situation. you'd receive random texts throughout the holidays from jennie, asking you to come over.

sometimes she was intoxicated after hanging with some friends, therefore you took it upon yourself to take care of her instead of doing what was routine at this point.

you and jennie returned to school hand-in-hand, much to the student-body's surprise.

jisoo:

jisoo was a bit of a bully and had a tendency to target people she disapproved of, with her group of peers.

an unfortunate incident involving one of jisoo's crushes being friendly with you, caused you to become their next target.

jisoo confronted you before school the next morning, so you decided to toy with her a little.

"why were you talking to [redacted] yesterday?" "they're kind of cute...i was just testing the waters." "back off." "i'm surprised you're lowering yourself to that." "excuse me?" "it seems a little desperate. not what i'd expect from a pretty girl like you."

jisoo was at a bit of a loss for words after that encounter, she simply scoffed- a light blush tinting her cheeks as she stormed away.

from then on, you found that jisoo would intentionally find you throughout the school days to shoot you a bitchy comment, which you would respond to with a comment of equal bitchiness.

the school became your cold war arena- however, it never verged on unpleasant the way actual bullying would do. it felt progressively more like lukewarm exchanges of banter.

one particularly smart remark from you caused jisoo to crack and let out a giggle- surprising both you and herself.

"cute laugh!" "shut up."

you received a text from an unknown number after school that day: 'it's jisoo. erase my laugh from your pea-brain, i still hate you'.

you replied: 'charming as always, i guess this is one way to start a conversation with me ;)'

the conversation continued into the early hours of the morning. it was frosty at first, but by the time you finally said goodnight there was an undeniable warmth to her replies.

she greeted you the next day, not with the usual middle finger, but with a small "good morning" and a smile as she passed by.

lisa:

lisa was the rich girl. from what you'd heard, money lacked value to her, it was simply a constant in her life.

one day you were alone in the bathrooms sorting out your appearance in the mirror when someone came barrelling in, instantly locking themselves in the nearest cubicle. you could hear distinct sounds of sobbing coming from inside.

"uh...everything okay?" you felt obliged to ask. "obviously not! my boyfriend just broke up with me." a voice replied, it clearly didn't take much for them to open up.

you spent the next 20 minutes conversing with the person, indicating for random people to leave when they stumbled across the scene.

when the door finally opened, you were shocked to see a red-eyed lisa staring back at you. "you're really nice to talk to." she stated after a moment.

from then on, you'd be subject to random little gifts from the girl in gratitude. she claimed that now she didn't have a boyfriend, there was a gap in her spending to fill and none of her friends deserved the gifts more than you, but that was the extent of your interactions for a while.

you caught rumours of lisa's birthday coming around, and while you surely couldn't match her expectations on a spending-scale, you could certainly put some thought into a gift- as a thanks for all the ones she'd given you.

you slipped a small necklace with a moonstone pendant into lisa's locker on her birthday. attached was a note explaining the qualities of a moonstone such as inner growth and emotional balance, in light of her recent relationship ending.

the next day, you spotted the necklace adorning the girl's neck and smiled to yourself. when she found you later on, you were greeted with a hug, catching you by surprise. "thank you..so much." she whispered, before slipping a note into your pocket and rejoining her friends. it was her phone number.

from that day forward, lisa wore the necklace every day, and you wore your new matching bracelet.

rosé

rosé was captain of the cheer team, a role envied by many as a clear symbol of status. you'd known rosé years before school, and long before she'd become 'popular', due to your parents being friends.

you'd naturally drifted apart, but were still acquaintances in some ways- despite not even sparing each other glances in the hallways.

one day, in a strange turn of events, you found yourself inside rosé's house attending a dinner party with her family.

there was a definite air of awkwardness surrounding you two when you were left alone by your parents, but the conversation picked up when you began the gossip session.

you eventually found yourself in rosé's bedroom, completely abandoning the dinner party as you two joked around carelessly, forgetting about the divisions you faced in school. it felt strangely normal all of a sudden.

the following days were pleasant, instead of ignoring each other, you and rosé would say hello in the hallways. then it didn't take long for the friendship to rekindle as rosé would start asking to eat lunch together and hang out after school. much to their disdain, you'd eventually replaced a few of her popular new friends.

one thing led to another and you were once again in rosé's bedroom, this time as closer friends than before. you were finishing up some homework as she scrolled absentmindedly through her social media, both lying on the bed.

"i'm bored." she exclaimed with a sigh for emphasis, shifting so that she was directly beside you and her face inches away from yours. "i want to do something..." "like what?" you met her gaze, the proximity undeniably intimate. "i dunno!" she giggled while unsubtly glancing at your lips. "you sure?" you replied, smirking.

before you knew it, her lips were on yours and you were breathlessly making out with the cheer captain.

the small pecks in the hallways prior to that night seemed only natural.

your orc husband took you in when you had nothing and no one. he made you mutton and soup and let you sleep in the barn. you washed his clothes naked in the river, hoping he would keep feeding you, hoping he might let you stay.

he cornered you in the water, his chest heaving because he couldn't hold it in any longer—how much he wanted you. his thick, olive-colored cock hung low, and you wondered how it would ever fit as he shoved you against the bank, his tusks holding your legs apart as he devoured you.

now you live here, his little cock pet. he comes home sweating from working the farm and lathers you up until you're dripping, then fills you with his seed. like all orcs, this is just the beginning. he fucks you harder now that you're slick with him, drowning his cock in your body. on top of his huge, sturdy belly, you bounce up and down, taking in as much as you can, crying that you belong to him.

how your orc husband always makes sure you're filled with him—and with mutton, too.

Hunting Season

cw: trophy hunting of sentient creatures, severe leg injury, oral sex, fingering, thigh humping

fem jackalope hybrid x afab reader

Word count: 8k

You hated hunting season. You moved out here, all the way to the woods, to escape people and yet every year they came, the worst people you could possibly imagine. Every summer stupid men came into your forest with their guns and their traps and every year it infuriated you. You wouldn’t be so mad if they were hunting for food, that you understood, but almost all of them were trophy hunters. 

You set off on your daily ritual of trying to set off all the traps they’d set this morning so no one would get caught in them. 

Your head jerked up as the sound of distant wailing pierced through the quiet of the forest. You took off. If you’d heard it, then it was only a matter of time before someone else did. 

As you got closer to the noise, you realized that it sounded human and you cursed, knowing a hybrid had gotten stuck in one of their traps. 

You approached slowly, making sure no one else was around. Your relationships with the hunters were already strenuous. They knew you were setting off all of their traps, if they knew you were also setting their prey free… well, you weren’t sure what they might do but you were certain it wouldn’t be good.

The first thing you saw, hidden away amongst the leaves, was a set of antlers. They poked up above the foliage as you crept up slowly. 

Through the leaves you saw a girl, around your age, with a pair of long fluffy ears that were tucked down behind her antlers overtop her mousy hair. The flattened ears matched her terrified expression, her cheeks wet with tears as she kept desperately clawing at her leg. 

You didn’t even think jackalope hybrids existed, thought they were an urban legend hunters told each other about. And yet there she was, panicked and crying and very much real. 

As you began to approach, her big ears perked up. They were nestled behind her antlers, her nose twitching as you moved through the foliage. 

Big, teary brown eyes met your own as you emerged from your hiding spot. As soon as she saw you she tugged urgently at her leg, which was wedged firmly between the teeth of the metal trap. The only thing she succeeded in was getting digging the metal further into her flesh as she desperately tried to pull away. 

You took a step back in an attempt to get her to stop moving. “Hey, I’m not here to hurt you but if you keep moving like that you’re going to hurt yourself even worse. 

She tried to thrash away from you, muttering no to herself as she was painfully rooted in place. 

“You need my help to open this kind of trap, just please stay still,” you pleaded with her. 

She listened, freezing in place, wet eyes looking expectantly at you as you edged closer. 

As soon as you were within reach you got to work compressing the springs on either side of the trap to free her. After a few substantial pushes the trap fell open and you quickly latched it that way before pushing it away from the both of you. 

The poor girl immediately tried to stand up and collapsed, her injured leg not allowing her to put any weight on it. You went down with her, pulling her arm over your shoulder to help her stand. “There you go, sweetheart, just lean on me. That’s it, there you go.”

She eagerly leaned into your side, putting almost all of her weight on you. There was no attempt to fling herself away this time and you weren’t sure if it was because you’d earned her trust or because she’d realized she had no other options. 

Either way, you needed to get her to safety, and fast. 

Your pace was slower than you would have liked. You’d have preferred to attempt to carry her but you got the distinct feeling that would spook her even further.

Luckily you weren’t too far from your cabin and you managed to make your way back without encountering anyone. 

You pulled her through the door, quickly shutting it behind you, closing her off from any prying eyes. If anyone saw her, you weren’t sure there was anything you could do to stop them. 

“You’re helping me?” She said it like she couldn't quite believe it, like she was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. You had a feeling only time would take away that instinct. There wasn’t anything you could say to make it go away right now, it was too ingrained in her. 

The most you could do was help her with gentle hands and a soft voice. 

“Yup. Come on, up here.” You shifted her onto your bed, the blood from her injured leg seeping into the sheets. 

You cursed under your breath as you realized that all that was left of your first aid supplies was an old roll of gauze and a half empty box of bandaids. Certainly not enough to fix this. You grabbed some vodka and a clean rag, determined to do the best you could to sanitize it before wrapping it up, or at least to remove some of the grime it was currently covered in. 

The wound was barely visible, clots of blood and dirt streaked across her, spread everywhere from her writhing on the ground. 

“This is going to hurt,” you warned her as you soaked the cloth, hoping she understood that this had to be done. 

She drew back a little back a little before nodding and grabbing a handful of your sheets in preparation as you knelt by her injured leg. 

The little shriek she let out as the vodka soaked rag touched her wounds broke your heart. You were going to string those hunters up the second you got the chance. 

The more blood and dirt you pulled away, the better you could to see the gashes in her leg. They were even worse than you’d imagined. She’d clearly been trying to pull herself out for a while before you got there. 

“Really hurts,” she whimpered out.

“I know hun, but we have to get you cleaned up. I promise I’ll be quick, we’re almost done.”

You dabbed at her wounds as gingerly as you could, trying to distract her from the pain by talking while you cleaned her up.

“Your english is really good.”

She swayed back and forth a little, a proud smile crossing her face. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I know very little about your language, I’ve looked but it’s very hard to find anything about it.”

“Secret,” she said with a wince.

“Oh, is it? I had no idea.”

You’d left the worst part for last but you’d run out of opportunities to avoid it. 

Too nervous to get near it, you opted instead to empty what was left of the bottle onto her leg. As you did, she grabbed your unoccupied hand, squeezing it as hard as she could. 

The bottle ran empty and you looked up to see her with her eyes shut tight and her jaw clenched. 

You stood up to go get the gauze you had left and she tentatively opened one eye at the sound of your retreat. At the sight of her bloody leg she promptly shut it again. You couldn’t blame her, it was hard for you to look at and it wasn’t even your blood. 

You grabbed the old gauze from inside your half forgotten first aid kit and promised yourself that soon you’d go into town and gather more supplies so next time you needed it you’d be prepared. 

Your heart sank at the thought of there being a next time, at the idea that no matter how hard you tried, you could never stop this from happening. 

That there would always be some you couldn’t get to in time. 

You shook the thought out of your head. Worrying about them wouldn’t fix anything. All you could do was care for the one you’d managed to save. 

“Do you have a name?”

She nodded, her ears shifting as she did. “Posy.”

“Well, Posy, you should get some rest. I’ve gotta go out for a while but you’ll be safe in here.”

She glanced around the room nervously, eyes grazing over the furniture. She must have found her surroundings satisfactorily safe because after a few moments she fell backwards onto the bed, nestling into the blankets. 

Despite the fact that she seemed content, you were hesitant to leave her alone. The only thing that managed to send you out that door was the thought that she might not be the only one. 

Night was falling but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You knew these woods more than well enough to navigate in the dark and god knows you wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight, you knew your mind wouldn’t stop racing long enough to allow you to rest. 

You set off the rest of the traps you could find before returning home, breaking and displacing all the ones that you could. They’d already done far more damage than you would have liked. 

Thankfully, every trap you came across was untripped. You already felt in over your head, you weren’t sure you could take care of any more injured creatures. 

You half expected her to be gone when you got back. 

Instead, she was out cold on the bed, curled up around a pillow she was hugging close to her chest.  She was lit up by the rays of the sunrise creeping through the gaps in your drawn curtains. 

She jerked awake at the sound of the door closing. She tried to bolt upright before being stopped by a painful reminder of why she was in your bed in the first place.

She pulled her legs up towards her, tucking them into herself and inspecting the bloody bandages she had wrapped around her calf. 

“How’re you feeling,” you asked, careful to keep your distance so you didn’t scare her even more. 

“Bad.”

You nodded solemnly. “Yeah, it’s going to be like that for a while, you hurt yourself pretty badly. But it’ll heal, I’ll make sure you’ll be okay, you don’t have to worry.”

Her head cocked to the side and she studied you from her position on the bed. 

“Do you want something to eat?” you asked as she surveyed you. 

She nodded hesitantly. 

Her big eyes watched you carefully as you put a pot on the stove, lighting the fire under it. She moved closer, hopping so as not to put weight on her injured leg and quickly settling in on the floor, positioning herself so she was eye level with the flame.

“Be careful, don’t burn yourself,” you called back as you grabbed a can of soup from the pantry, sticking to something with vegetables in it and hoping that jackalope hybrid’s diets weren’t too dissimilar from bunny hybrids. 

“I’m not stupid.” She pouted at you before returning to her fire watching. “How did you make fire so fast?”

She chose her words slowly and intentionally, working her way through the question while you busied yourself with heating up the soup for the two of you, letting her figure out the words in her own time. 

“Um, there’s gas in the stove and the knob makes a little spark that lights it.”

“Gas?”

“Mmhmm.”

“It’s warm in here all night.” It was more of a statement than an observation but you understood what she was asking. 

“Yeah, that’s because of a fire too, it’s a heating system. What do you guys normally do at night?”

“We stay close and sheltered.”

“Well, we’re sheltered here, and we’re pretty close.”

She shook her head. “No, closer.”

“Like cuddling?”

Posy nodded. 

“How do you speak English so well?”

“I learned. We all did.”

“Why?”

“To talk our way out of trouble. If you can’t escape, make them like you. Buys time.”

“You know you don’t have to do that with me, right? You can say or do whatever you want to, I’m going to take care of you either way.”

“Why?”

“It’s the decent thing to do. Unfortunately for you, decency is not a universal trait but I promise, no harm will come to you here. Be as much of a little shit as you want.”

She scrunched up her nose as she smiled. “Challenge accepted!”

“Not quite how I meant it.”

She ignored you in favor of staring at the stove as you worked around her. 

Eventually, you broke her little hypnotic spell as you announced, “Food’s done. Do you like tea?”

She shrugged. “What is it?”

“It’s good, you should try it.”

You couldn’t exactly ask her how she liked her tea so instead you opted to put some sugar in it and hope for the best. 

“Do you need help?” you asked as you looked down at her sitting on the floor. 

“With what?”

“With moving to the table. Come on, I’ll…”

“No. Stay here.”

You weren’t sure if she actually wanted to stay on the ground or if the thought of you helping her up wounded her pride. Either way, you weren’t going to fight her on it. 

“Alright. Is this seat taken?” you asked, gesturing at the floor next to her.

She shook her head with a giggle and you settled down next to her, setting two bowls of soup and two mugs of tea on the floor. 

She took a sip out of the mug and scrunched up her nose.

“Too hot.”

“Well, you have to let it cool down first. The soup should be better, I didn’t bring it to a full boil”

She picked up the bowl, ignoring the spoon in favor of sipping directly from it. 

“What is this?” she asked, giving it a curious look. 

“It’s just soup, I get it from the store when I go out.”

“Store?”

“Yeah, it’s where I go to get food.”

“You don’t make it. What do you do with all your forages?”

“Oh, I don’t forage.”

She seemed baffled by this revelation. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I guess I don’t really know how.”

“You live here? And you don’t know how?” she asked incredulously.

“Hey, I’m not stupid either, I just never needed to learn. We all have blind spots.”

“You should learn. This is disgusting.”

“Sorry, but I’m afraid you’re gonna be eating a lot of this stuff until I can get you back on your feet.”

She made no attempt to mask her pout and you couldn’t help but laugh as you added, “Just think of it as motivation to get better faster.”

She didn’t seem convinced by your arguments but was too hungry to care. She practically inhaled her food, despite her less than glowing review regarding its taste. 

The tea was more of a hit, her first sip not leaving her questioning your survival skills at the very least. 

After a few more tastes she announced, “This is fine.”

“I’m glad it’s to your liking.”

And honestly, you really were. You were incredibly happy to see her settling in, the jumpiness from before all but gone. 

She looked up from an empty bowl, clutching a still warm mug in her hands. “What now?”

“I don’t normally have guests, I don’t really know how all of this works. Do you want to watch a movie?” It felt like an absurdly pedestrian thing to ask someone who’d almost been hunted for sport the day before but you got the sense she’d appreciate the distraction. 

“What’s a movie?”

“I can show you, c’mon, they’re over here.”

You didn’t have any real service out here in the woods, but what you did have was an old tv and a box of vhs tapes. They were all grainy and in black and white but if she didn’t even know what a movie was, you couldn’t imagine Posy would be particularly picky about the quality. 

You picked something light and hit play. Her eyes widened the second the tv lit up with a picture, scrambling to get a closer look. 

“How does it do that?” she asked, her eyes unblinking as she stared at it. 

“I’m not really sure to be honest, it’s a bit above my paygrade.”

She scooted across the floor to the back of the tv, searching for the origin of the little moving image. 

You let her explore, settling down on the couch as she moved across the floor. Eventually, she settled down with her back against the couch, leaning her head against your leg. 

“Hi there,” you said, looking down at the girl and wondering whether or not you should join her on the floor. 

She tilted her head back, looking up at you with big eyes. “Hello.”

She didn’t seem partial to personal space, nuzzling into you as she watched. 

As the movie neared its close you weaseled away from her and got up from your seat to try and clean up while she was distracted. You didn’t want to remind her about some of the messier things that were still lying around. 

Despite her wonder at the movie, she stopped and turned to instead watch you. 

You went to make the bed, removing all the bloody blankets and replacing them with clean ones, tossing everything covered in blood into the trash. You had a feeling they wouldn’t be salvageable. 

“I can sleep on the floor tonight, you can take the bed,” you called over to her.

She looked at you like you’d lost your mind. “No, you won’t.”

“Please, you’re hurt, I can’t ask you to sleep down there.”

“I don’t want to sleep on that thing,” she said, eyeing your bed distastefully. 

You ceded the floor to her after it became clear she would not budge on her position. 

Later that night, you awoke from the feeling of something moving around you. As you gathered your bearings, you felt someone nestle into your chest and you realized that Posy had risen from her spot on the floor and had instead opted to wrap her arms around you.

She was looking for comfort. It didn’t take a genius to figure that much out. 

You never could have done this, been as brave as her, sought out comfort like this when you needed it. There was courage in the gesture you couldn’t help but admire, a distinct bravery in the vulnerability. 

You ran your fingers through her hair and her grip on you only got tighter, pleading you to stay with her. You’d just felt her get into the bed and wrap herself around you but she seemed to already be drifting off in your arms. 

“I’ve got you,” you muttered, positioning yourself to try and make sure you wouldn’t get whacked by her antlers in your sleep.

It didn’t take long for you to drift off. You hated to admit it but maybe the closeness didn’t just help her. 

You were just as close when you woke up the next morning, her head resting on your shoulder and her arms wrapped around you.

“I thought you said you preferred the floor,” you said with a chuckle as she shifted further beneath the blankets, still attached to your side.

“I do. I dont like sleeping alone.”

“No, I don’t think I do either. Well, you’re welcome to stay up here, I don’t mind.”

“Mkay,” she said, sounding like she was drifting off again. “This thing is more comfortable than it looks.”

Before she could succumb to the newfound wonders of your blankets and the mattress, you nudged her awake. 

“Come on, there’ll be time for that later, we need to get those bandages changed.”

She looked nervous about the proposition and you tried to cede ground and make the vulnerable position she was in feel a little less scary. “You can change them yourself if you want, I understand if you don’t want me near your injuries.” 

She looked up at you from her spot on the pillow, a timidness present now that certainly hadn’t been there moments before. Her ears were the telltale sign, rising from their relaxed position and stiffening back. “Can you help?” 

“Of course I can,” you reassured her. “Your wish is my command.”

“Be careful what you promise, who knows what I’ll ask for,” she said with a smile, her ears falling back into place at your words. 

“Aren’t you a little tyrant in the making? Come on then, let’s take care of that leg so you can get right to bossing me around.”

She pulled her leg up next to you, wincing a little as she did. You pretended not to notice. 

Your brain ran through contingencies as you bound her injuries. So many things could go wrong with her being here, you weren’t prepared for this. 

You barely had the supplies to tend to her injuries, let alone keep her safe and hidden. 

“Have you been through your mating season?” you asked, trying to figure out exactly where you stood. 

She nodded, ears bobbing up and down as she did. Her dark eyes shone with mischief. “Why are you asking?”

Realistically, it was because her going into heat in your cabin could cause a world of problems. The last thing you needed was to attract more attention to her presence here. Other hybrids might not hurt her but a congregation of them outside wouldn’t exactly be discreet. 

That didn’t feel like the right thing to say though, so instead you opted for a playful, “I can’t be curious?”

“Maybe. I could show you sometime, if you wanted.”

“Yeah?” you said with a laugh, her enthusiasm infectious. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer one of these days.”

Her cheeks flushed, despite her being the one to propose the idea and you got the distinct impression her teasing was not going to plan. “I thought humans were prudes.”

“Come on, am I anything like the humans they told you about?”

She sighed, knowing when she’d lost. “No.”

She was even cute when she was pouting, it wasn’t fair. 

“I’m gonna go out and make sure no one else got caught in those traps, okay? I hope that pretty smile of yours is back when I get back or else…”

“Or else?”

You hadn’t quite thought that far ahead. “Or else I’ll find out if you’re ticklish, how’s that sound?”

She giggled, her arms moving over her stomach defensively at the mere thought. “Anything but that,” she pleaded.

“There’s that smile again. See you in a few hours.” Before you could really think about your actions you pressed a quick kiss into her cheek. The second her arms dropped in surprise you poked her in the stomach, leaving the cabin as you heard cries of protest behind you.

She was sitting cross legged right inside the door when you got home, her ears perked up and at attention. The second you crossed through the doorway she sprung up, practically tackling you. 

She pressed kisses into both of your cheeks in what you could only describe as an attack. 

“I win.”

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of me. What was that for?”

“You poked me!”

“Only because you let your guard down.” You took another easy shot and poked her again 

“You’re doing better,” you noted. She was still significantly favoring her left leg, the right one almost hovering above the floor as she stood, but the fact that she was standing and moving at all was frankly incredible. “Healed enough for a sneak attack.”

“Healed enough for revenge,” she said with a smile and a nod.

There was no way that she had significantly healed in the few hours you were gone. You could see it in every movement, she was just as hurt as she’d been this morning. 

The change in her disposition seemed more tied to her growing comfort around you than anything. 

You wanted to keep that going, make sure she felt welcome here, felt at home. You swore you’d put even more effort into it and make sure she knew she was cared for. 

It was that promise to yourself that led you to making homemade cookies for your newfound roommate. 

You swatted her hand away from the bowl as she snuck another bite of cookie dough away from you.

“You’re going to make yourself sick, you shouldn’t eat that.”

She just giggled, intent on ignoring your protests.

“Well, when we don’t have enough cookies we’ll both know who to blame.”

That seemed to get through to her, her eyes widening as she surveiled the bowl. “You’ll make more for me, right?”

“I’m not your personal chef,” you protested. 

That didn’t stop you from caving and making her more cookies. You were certain even the strongest will couldn’t withstand those big, sad eyes. They were a powerful weapon and she knew it.

Eventually you managed to get a full batch of cookies into the oven, despite Posy making every attempt to stop you. 

While the cookies were baking, you hopped up on the counter and watched Posy on the floor, her preferred seat. 

You tilted your head, getting a better look at her as she stared down at her feet. Normally she stared up at you endlessly but now she seemed lost in thought.

“What’re you thinking about,” you prodded.

“Just wondering if anyone’s worried about me.”

“I’m sure people are. Do you have any family?”

She nodded.  “Yeah, a big one. I have five sisters, Rose, Violet, Poppy, Lily, and Daisy, she’s the only one younger than me. I was out with her right before I got caught, was getting her home, I had her run when there was trouble.”

“And they’re jackalopes like you?”

She nodded. “There aren’t many of us outside the family though.”

“Do you know what happened to the rest?”

“People happened to them. Not my family though. They’re very very safe, they never let me go out.”

“I’m sure they miss you, I’ll try and find them next time I go out, tell them you’re okay.”

She shrugged. “I go missing a lot, they always say I’m trouble. Everyone else is always home but I get restless, stuck in there.” She rubbed her injured leg as she spoke, the other one bouncing up and down nervously. 

“Well, we’ll make sure you can tell them you’re okay as soon as we can, when you get all healed up and are able to get back into trouble.”

“Do you get restless?”

“Not really, I like staying put. I do like rescuing you though. How about you keep getting into trouble and I’ll keep rescuing you, deal?”

You stuck out your hand, leaning towards the floor as much as you could so she could reach you. 

She stared at it like you were crazy, moving around it to see if you were secretly holding something.

“You shake it,” you whispered to her. “That’s how we humans make deals.”

She took it and gave it a violent shake. 

“Yeah, just like that,” you laughed. 

Your little timer went off and you hopped down from the counter to pull the cookies out. Per usual, Posy did not wait for the food to cool before trying them, scooping a collapsing cookie into her mouth.

“Are they to your liking, m’lady,” you teased her.

“Better than your soup.”

You scoffed and swatted at her as she leaned away, collapsing to the floor in a fit of giggles. 

“You’re lucky you’re so cute or that mouth of yours might get you into some real trouble.”

A blush began to bloom beneath her facefull of freckles. “I thought you said I wasn’t trouble?”

“I said I didn’t mind and that I’d rescue you, I never said you weren’t trouble. Even I wouldn’t go making claims like that, especially not after you stole my cookies.”

Your little attempts to make her feel welcome got more and more frequent, despite feeling less and less necessary. 

On one of your trips through the forest, you found some lavender, picking some for her without a second thought, leaving a little bouquet of them on the pillow next to her sleeping head. 

It wasn’t uncommon for you to be able to come and go without Posy ever waking. As her initial jumpiness faded, you found out that she was an incredibly deep sleeper. 

She was sleeping in bed with you every night, the cuddling never ending, even when you weren’t sleeping.

When the summer nights got too warm she kicked the blankets off the both of you, staying firmly attached to your side all the while. 

Without a concerted effort from you to get her to move, she’d stay nestled into the covers most of the time. 

There were, as there always are, exceptions to the rule. 

When you got back home, you found her sitting at the door with a sprig of lavender in her hair and the rest clutched in her hands. She was just as excited to see you as ever, already shouting out thank yous and springing up to give you a hug, being able to put a little more weight on her injured foot every time she jumped up to greet you. 

She was getting better and better at English as well, her already amazing English constantly improving. She was an incredibly fast learner. She could hear you use a word once or twice and pick up its meaning almost immediately. 

She’d started picking up curse words from you, which you found endlessly amusing. Her soft, sweet voice would let out an impatient “fuck” and you couldn’t help but snort out a laugh. 

The whole ordeal made her quite cross. She insisted she was just mimicking you and there wasn’t anything funny about it. You unconvincingly reassured her that of course it wasn’t, not funny at all, all spoken behind a smile. 

You, on the other hand, were a little slower with her langugae

She was willing to share but replicating her words was more difficult than you’d anticipated. It had sounds you were unfamiliar with, little clicks and shifts in tone you’d never had to make before.

You’d asked her about her family names, if they were translations or if they just happened to line up with english words

“I translated them. The meaning’s what’s important anyways.”

“What is your real name?”

“Posy is my real name.”

“But how would you say it?”

She made one of the noises you were becoming more and more familiar with. It was more subtle than any word you’d ever heard before, almost being mistakable for a sound of the trees rustling or the wind outside. 

You did your best to repeat back what she’d said and immediately knew you’d gotten it wrong based on her snickering. 

It took a few tries but eventually you got it right. 

“Call me Posy though.” she added. “The meaning is what matters.”

“Yeah okay, I will” 

As you sat there, mulling over the secret words she’d been gifting you, you blurted out a question you’d been unable to shake. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course I do! Did you really think I might not trust you?” She seemed more hurt by the question than anything. 

Did you? “Not really. I think I just wanted to hear you say it. 

She thought for a minute and then shot back a question of her own. “Why did you get me flowers?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I thought you might like them. Did you?”

“Mmhmm.” she nodded enthusiastically. “The thing is… I’ve just heard things about humans and giving people flowers.”

You felt your cheeks begin to warm and tried to play it off. “Have you? Good things or bad things?”

She shrugged. “Just things.”

You had an idea where she might have been getting these ideas from. 

Her obsession with movies was there from the start. She was endlessly fascinated by the moving images and your inability to explain to her how they worked only seemed to fuel her fascination. You were certain she was going to wear through your vhs tapes. 

Her fascination seemed to warp over time, however. You noticed the movies she’d keep watching, the fixation on romance movies growing steadily the more she consumed. 

For the fifth time this week alone you came home to her watching an old black and white romance, her nose practically touching the screen. 

“Is it true humans mate for life?” she asked as you settled in next to her. 

“Sometimes. Depends on the human.”

“Oh. What about you human?”

“Maybe. I suppose I’d just have to find the right person. Or the right bunny.”

Her face immediately lit up with no attempt to hide it

“I think I like human romance.”

“What, no one ever get you flowers before?”

“We get each other flowers. We just don’t have partners. It seems nice.”

“You could have a partner, nothing’s stopping you.”

“Nothing?”

You slid down from the couch next to her on the floor. “Nope, nothing. Which one’s your favorite?”

She rushed over to your collection of tapes. Her movement was practically normal now. She was still favoring her left side but it seemed more out of habit than from her injury, being fully capable of forgetting all about it and darting about when she got excited. 

She wasted no time before getting comfortable, clamoring up into your lap and nuzzling into you as the movie began. 

You should get more tapes for her, you thought offhandedly before realizing there might not be a point. She was practically healed and as much as you tried to forget it, she would eventually leave. 

You had no clue how to bring up the topic, how to suggest that maybe she could visit you despite knowing that everyone she knew and loved would want her to stay far away from you the second they got her back. 

Maybe you were being selfish by not talking about it, trying to keep her with you as long as possible. Frankly, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

She noticed your mind drifting and brought you back to reality with an elbow to the side. You let out an oof and shot an accusatory glance her way but she was staring at you with frantic eyes. 

“This is the best part,” she insisted. “You can’t miss it.”

You turned back to the screen just in time to catch the climax of the movie. The music swelled, the camera zoomed in, and the pair on your screen finally kissed. 

She must have this movie memorized by now but Posy still seemed utterly entranced by the scene in front of her. 

“I’ve kissed some people, but never like that,” she informed you, her eyes still glued to the screen. 

You wanted to kiss her like that. You wanted to kiss her every way she wanted to be kissed, to show her a romance to rival all of her little movies. 

But what if that wasn’t what she wanted? What if she was just a friend showing another friend a movie and you’d misread every signal. 

Posy put those doubts right out of your mind, staring at you with resolve as she clearly hinted, “If only someone would kiss me like that.”

You laughed out, “you dumbass,” before leaning in, slowly, carefully, intentionally, just like in her little movie, with all the love in the world in your eyes.

You shut them the moment before you made contact, her hands immediately coming up to cup your face, holding you close. 

You fell into the kiss immediately. It just felt right, you fit together perfectly. You were pressed up against each other but you kept trying to pull her closer, wanting more. 

The tip of her tongue teased at the seam of your mouth until you let her in, deepening the kiss.

Her legs fell to either side of your thigh and she slid herself forwards and back, letting out little whimpers into your mouth. 

You pushed your leg up into her grinding, encouraging her.  

You broke the kiss for a second, muttering out, “Do you want to…”

She nodded and cut you off as she pushed her lips back into yours.

You tried to lead the two of you back towards the bed while she refused to let you go, causing you to slightly misjudge how far away you were from it and go tumbling down onto the sheets, giggling into each other as you fell. 

You guided her onto her back, pulling your shirt off as she desperately pulled hers off, dragging you back down while your arms were still wrapped up in its sleeves. You struggled to pull it the rest of the way off and throw it to the floor while she trailed kisses down your neck. 

Your hand slipped under the waistband of her pants, and you gently slid your fingers inside her. She was so wet they slid inside with no resistance, her walls fluttering around your fingers. 

You kissed your way down her body, pulling her pants off as you went. As you did, you found something you hadn’t known existed. A little white tail sat right above her ass. 

“What’s this?” you asked as you shifted her onto her side to get a better look. 

She rolled back onto her back, hiding the tail from sight once more. “Don’t be mean,” she pouted. 

“I’m not! It’s cute.”

You leaned down to press kisses into her thigh as she tried to pull you up where she wanted you.

Eventually you gave in to her pleas, your fingers continuing to crook upwards inside of her as you pressed gentle kisses to her clit. She bucked into your face, wanting more.

You hooked your arms around her plush thighs to get her even closer to you, focusing more of your attention on her clit as she started to squirm, lapping and sucking at it. As she got closer to her climax her thighs squeezed around your head and you were convinced you might be in heaven. Your hips pushed down into the sheets as you worked her through her orgasm. 

Your hand slipped down to try and provide yourself with some friction but it wasn’t enough. You needed her, needed her to touch you. 

As if answering your prayers, Posy pulled you up and kissed you deeply, licking her own taste out of your mouth. 

She flipped you over, pinning you against the mattress, her bare chest warm and soft against yours as her fingers dove inside of you, her palm pressing down against your clit.  

You were embarassingly close already, her soft touches bringing you right up to the edge. 

Her fingers slipped out of you and circled your clit, swallowing all of your moans as she guided you towards your peak. You pulled away from the never-ending kiss and buried your face in her neck as you came, rolling your hips as waves of pleasure radiated out from your core. 

After you came down you collapsed, your head resting on her chest. Her hand was caressing your cheek as she smiled down fondly at you.

“Was the kiss just like you wanted?” you asked. 

“It was with you so yes, it was.”

“You big sap,” you said with a laugh. 

A wave of exhaustion hit you and you were glad you were already in bed, using Posy as your own personal pillow as you got some much needed rest. 

You woke up to the sound of pounding at your door. 

The first instinct from your half-asleep brain was to ignore it and go back to sleep, snuggled into Posy’s side. 

The sound of a fist slamming against the wood continued ceaselessly and you could make out the muffled noises of the person outside shouting. The second you heard the word traps you sprung up, throwing clothes on and ushering Posy out of sight.

She picked up on your panic immediately, glancing anxiously at the door as you tucked her away. 

“What the fuck do you want?” you hissed as you threw the door open. 

Your attitude towards the hunters wasn’t pleasant on a good day but now, after you’d been taking care of Posy for weeks, you’d never felt angrier. 

“I want you to stop messing with my shit, that’s what I fucking want,” he shot back. “Do you think we didn’t know it was you? You’ve become a real pain in my ass.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Not my fault if you can’t trap prey to save your life, maybe get better at hunting and stop blaming me for your shitty haul.”

“We found blood coming from one of our traps, you know. After a few feet, the trail went cold. Like someone covered it up.”

“Well, I suppose that’s the price you pay when you’re hunting intelligent creatures, sometimes they outsmart you and your shit-for-brains friends.”

He lurched towards you and you instinctively drew back towards the shut door of your cabin. 

As you did, you saw a familiar face peek through the curtain and panic shot through you, endlessly worried they’d spot her. You talked a big game but if it came down to a straight up fight you didn’t like your odds. 

“Listen,” you said, knowing you needed to end this as quickly as you could. “You’re not the only one with a hunting riffle. I advise you to stay away from here or that camouflage you’re wearing may end up being a defense of mine. Now please get the fuck off of my property.”

You were bluffing, you didn’t have a hunting riffle. But at the end of the day, you didn’t need one. All you needed was for him to believe you.

His wide eyes and nervous glance back at your home told you that he did. 

“Bitch,” he spat at you as he began his retreat.

As he drew out of sight, you slipped inside, careful not to open the door anymore than you needed to. 

You locked the door and immediately whipped around and looked for Posy. 

She was sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, her legs curled inwards and tears streaming down her face. She was visibly shaking and clutching her leg and you got the sense she’d collapsed from her spot at the window.  

You grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped her up, pulling her into you. Her breaths were coming fast and you just held her, pressing gentle kisses into her forehead and rubbing the base of her ears while whispering soft reassurances to her. 

You slowly pulled her leg out from under the blanket and gently unwound the bandages from the leg she was clutching, trying to show her what you’d been putting off mentioning for days, what you couldn’t help but notice every time you changed her bandages.

“Hey, you’re okay, you’re all healed up. Look,” you said as you revealed her leg, covered in scars but functionally healed. “You’re fine. They can’t get you in here, you’re okay. You’re all healed up and I’ll never let them touch you again, you’re gonna be just fine.”

Her shaky breaths got slower as she started to calm down, her hand tenuously reaching down to touch her old wounds. 

She slowly calmed down, her hand grasping a handful of your shirt as if she was afraid you’d leave her. You had no plans on doing so, keeping her as close as you could. 

You did your best to cheer her up, to show her that things really were getting better. “Hey, on the bright side, your legs all healed up. You should be able to leave soon, go back home.”

“What?”

“You’re fine now, you should be able to walk. We can get you back home.” You focused on keeping a pleasant smile on your face, on not showing her how distraught you were of thinking about her leaving, about this place being empty, about not having Posy to come home to.

“Oh. Okay.”

She didn’t speak much after that. You left her alone for days, wanting to give her space to recover, ignoring that nagging feeling in your gut screaming at you to just say something. You refused to push. You would wait for her to speak first, to make the first move. 

She never did. 

Against your better judgment, you left her alone again, setting off to undo as many traps as you could once more. 

When you got back she was gone. 

Panic immediately bloomed in your chest, convinced that someone had gotten to her, that she’d been taken. 

The pile of clean bandages wadded up and thrown in your trash indicated otherwise. 

Maybe you shouldn’t chase after her. Maybe this was what she wanted, to go home to her family and forget all of this. Maybe this was her way of saying she didn’t want to see you again.

You barely even had time to process any of those thoughts before you took off running. 

She hadn’t been careful. Her trail was easy to follow, much easier than it should have been. 

You were out of breath when you came upon her. You knelt in front of her sobbing form, making sure she wasn’t hurt before you spoke. 

“Hey, what… what’s going on? Why did you run, what’s happening?”

She sniffled, trying to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “You dont want me.”

“What?”

“You were just waiting for me to heal and now you want me to leave. I thought you really wanted me.”

“I do! I want you to stay, I thought you would want to leave.”

“Why would I want to leave?”

“To go back to your family, back home. You’re not like me, you have people to go back to.”

“You’re my people. Wait, so you’ll let me stay.”

“Let you? Posy, I want you to stay, I’ve been dreading you leaving ever since you showed up. Besides, with you gone who else would I sav-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence, it being cut short as the wind was knocked out of you when she tacked you, knocking you on your back as her arms wrapped around you. You could feel her massive smile as she pressed her face into the crook of your neck, kissing you every time she managed to suppress her smile for a moment.

She sat up suddenly, her thighs on either side of your waist, keeping you trapped where you lay.  Her ears were perked up as she grinned down at you

She started talking a mile a minute, the excitement taking over her. “I can take you to meet everyone one of these days, when hunting season is over. I’ll get to show you off. Oh, and I can forage for you. Then you’ll find out how gross all your food is. ”

You snorted. “Posy?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I get up please?”

“Oh. Right, yeah of course.” She helped you to your feet, still eagerly making plans as she grabbed your hand, tugging you behind her as you both headed back home.

𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐀𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐓 || 𝐄𝐃𝐃𝐈𝐄 𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐍

summary: what’s eddie supposed to do when you look that hot? not touch himself? oh please, he knows you're not that dumb [eddie x bimbo!reader]

cw: smut || 18+ only [ft. m and f masturbation, eddie being a bit of a perv, technically a bit of voyeurism since you watch each other masturbate, squirting, cum play]

a/n: let’s pretend yesterday never happened shall we 😃 this was inspired by this post a little while ago! || SPOILER FREE!

Eddie swears he’s not doing it on purpose. Honest to God, he’s trying his best to focus on what you’re saying, but the sight of your soft thighs and the short plaid skirt that barely covers the top of them turned it into a very hard task. 

It’s not the only thing that’s hard. His cock stirs inside the confinement of his boxers, rising with arousal when you turn and your skirt flares out, exposing the folds of skin where your ass meets your thighs. 

Your mouth is moving, glossy lips rounding the words, something about the top you’re holding up against your chest. You’re rambling about the pattern or maybe how in season it is, and that you can’t wait to wear it tomorrow for his band’s weekly gig. “Wait ‘till you see this!” you exclaim giddily, turning around once more. 

Eddie is gifted with a clear view of the back of your thighs now that you’re looking through the many bags you brought from the mall. He can gaze freely at the little dimples on your flesh, along with a couple of faded bruises in the shape of his mouth on the inner side. 

He’s thrown back into the memory of last night, recalling the needy sounds he pulled from you and your desperate, grabby hands pulling on his hair to detach him from your legs and dragging him to where you needed him most. He remembers how you keened when he licked your pussy, not leaving a single crevice untouched by his wet muscle; how your thighs clenched around his head when you came and how you sobbed as kept going. 

Eddie’s thankful for the thick comforter that covers his lower half and hides the very obvious tent he’s sporting. It allows him to press his hand against it in search of a little relief. Unfortunately, it backfires– it makes him harder, the knot in his stomach tightening. He has to bite his lower lip to keep his needy moan in. 

Something clatters to the floor and pulls him out of his daydream. 

“Oops,” you giggle, throwing him an embarrassed smile before leaning down to pick up whatever it is you dropped. Your skirt rides up with the movement and… oh.

Eddie’s breath catches in his throat as soon as he sees the purple of your lacy panties. If he can even call them that– they barely cover more than a third of your ass and are almost more see-through than glass. 

Before he can even realise what he’s doing, he hastily frees his cock and gives it a good pump, his eyes closing at the feeling. He drags his hand up and down slowly, picturing himself bending you over your vanity and flipping your skirt– no, scratch that. He’ll keep it like it is right now, watch it bounce every time his hips crash into yours. He’ll pull your panties to the side, of course, and push his cock into you with no warning except for the kiss he always leaves on the back of your head when he’s fucking you from behind. 

And you’ll gasp as he stretches your little hole around his cock, the cute way you always do. He’ll have to keep you upright, probably snake an arm around your waist. It’ll be useful, too– that way he can rub your clit with the tips of his fingers and make you clench even more. 

He strokes himself as discreetly as he can, making an effort to keep a straight face now that you’re facing him and talking his ear off again. He’s given up on trying to decipher what you’re telling him, but he still groans a non-committal “mhm” in hopes of keeping you distracted long enough to blow his fucking load. 

He should really work on his acting skills, though. 

Your face drops, shoulders sinking with it. “That’s your reaction?” you pout. “I thought you’d be happier, Eddie.”

“Huh?” he pauses his movements, holds himself firmly at the base. 

“The necklace,” you swing it in front of him like he’s an idiot. “Y’know, it has horns… and your Hellfire shirt has a devil on it…”

If he were in the right state of mind he’d probably be jumping around like a maniac and kissing you soundly, begging you to turn around so he can put it on you. Knowing himself, he’d throw you on the bed and fuck you with nothing but that necklace on, whisper in your ear how hot his little devil is. 

But right now all he can think about is you strolling around town proudly with something that marks you as his– everyone knows who the local devil worshiper was. And even if that false accusation brought him grief not too long ago, you not caring about the fact that you’d be associated with him, probably even made an outcast, makes him hot all over.  

The chain looks pretty long too. The perfect length to rest between your breasts and bounce against them as you walk.

Fuck. He pumps himself again, feels a drop of precum fall down his hand. “Right, right,” he nods. “It’s really cool, babe. Super cool.”

“Cool?” you mumble to yourself, frowning. You glance at his face, taking note of his sweaty forehead and his flushed cheeks.

Oh no, was he sick? Here you were, showing off your purchases and getting mad that he wasn’t paying attention to you when he clearly wasn’t feeling his best.

“Are you okay? You’re really red,” you wonder and get closer to him, hand outstretched to take his temperature. You brush back his fringe and place the back of your hand on his forehead, wrinkle the space between your eyebrows while tilting your head to the side. “And really hot, too.”

His eyelashes flutter close at the concern in your voice. You’re so sweet to him, so caring and doting even when he doesn’t deserve it. It should make him guilty, really, but it only makes him hornier. “I’m f-fine,” he stutters on a moan. 

His eyes fly to yours, which are already wide open and staring straight at his soul. Then they slowly drift lower, down his naked inked chest and to the moving outline beneath the sheets. Shit, he thinks. He couldn’t even stop touching himself. 

He calls your name when you grip them, voice coated in shame but it’s no use– you’re stubborn when you want to. Even more so when he doesn’t listen to you talk about your shopping sprees and doesn’t pay attention to your hauls. 

You pull the sheets away and there it is, his ringed-clad fingers wrapped around his cock, which is red and leaking and so, so desperate for attention. Goosebumps rise on his skin at the sudden rush of cool air. 

“Were you really touching yourself while I showed you my clothes?” you ask a little breathless, tongue darting out to lick your dry lips. 

Eddie wants to curl into a hole and die. Or the Earth to swallow him whole. He’s not very picky at the moment. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, cheeks as red as a wildfire. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, you just– that fucking skirt. And you leaned down and your–your panties. Fucking purple– what are you doing?” 

You blink up at him as you climb onto the bed, staring at him from between his legs. “I wanna see,” you say innocently, making yourself comfortable. 

“See…?” Eddie trails off, mouth dry as a dessert. 

You smile sweetly, like you’re not asking him to do something incredibly dirty. “See you touch yourself, duh.”

He chuckles awkwardly, scratching his scalp with his free hand. “Are– are you serious?”

“Mhm,” you nod. Your fingers wrap around his wrist and slowly move his hand up, forcing him to pump his cock. Eddie exhales shakily, watching you intently and gauging your reaction. You don’t seem to be that angry or disgusted. Actually, you seem pretty entertained making him play with himself in front of you. 

Your bracelets dangle and clink against each other as you move both of your hands. “S’the least you could do, y’know, after not paying attention to me.” When Eddie’s hand reaches the tip under your guidance, you force his fingers to close around it tightly, squeezing it until his hips stutter. “Can I see you play, Eddie?”

“Yeah, yeah. Fuck.” He nods repeatedly, like one of those dolls with the big heads. You let go of him when you’re sure he’s not going to stop, clenching your thighs together at the sight of your boyfriend desperately fucking his hand. “Can– can you show me your pussy, baby?”

Feeling nice and because he sounds so pretty and looks so desperate, you sit down and spread your thighs, throwing your legs over Eddie’s. His skin is scalding hot against yours.

You bunch your skirt around your waist so he can have a clear view of your clothed cunt, his favourite colour contrasting against your skin. At the sight of the purple lace, Eddie picks up his rhythm a little, just enough to make his toes curl. “No, no. Not like that. Show me my girl, c’mon.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to make so many demands, Eds. Not when you weren’t even listening to me.”

“I said I’m sorry,” he whines. “I’m sorry, baby. I am. You just– just look so pretty. So fucking hot in that skirt. Can’t help myself.” He notices the evidence of lust in your underwear and smirks teasingly, “You can’t either. I can see that little wet spot, y’want me too.”

You push your tongue against your cheek and play with your fingers. “S’not that,” you whisper.

Now it’s Eddie’s turn to be confused. “No?” 

“Mm mm,” you shake your head. You trace your fingertips around the darkened patch of fabric, moaning softly as you tease yourself and see Eddie’s brown eyes covered in black. “S’your cum.”

“Jesus,” he curses lowly, throwing his head back. “Fuck, let me see. C’mon, stop being mean.”

You pull your panties to the side and show him your sticky folds, strings of white going across your inner lips and puffy clit and a drop of his seed coming out of your hole. Before it can hit the mattress you push it back in with your fingers, moaning at the sudden stretch.

Eddie could cum from just that. “Fuck, you’re so dirty. Such a dirty girl. Kept it inside that pretty little pussy since this morning?” You nod shakily, drawing tight circles on your clit with your free hand. 

Eddie’s pumping himself furiously now, the slick and wet sounds of his fist bouncing between the walls of your bedroom. “Yeah? Walked around the mall with my cum dripping down your legs? And with a skirt that short... Shit, people definitely noticed. Naughty fucking girl.”

You curl your fingers up and scissor them when you pull them out, trying to mimic the way Eddie plays you. It’s not the same, but it still sends a shiver of pleasure down your spine and makes you whine desperately. “F-felt so good. Having you in me all day.”

“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that. Gonna make me cum so hard.”

“Please,” you whimper. You poke his side with your toes, “Please, wanna see you cum. Always so pretty when you do, Eddie. M-my pretty boy.”

You say it so dreamily, so desperate to see him unravel. His stomach tightens, his balls pulling up and getting ready to shoot his load when suddenly something wet hits his upper thighs and cock. It slips from his hand because of how wet everything is, and he scrambles to get a hold of it again and fucks into his fist until he feels raw, hips pistoning up and down in his desperation to cum. You’re crying out his name as you cover him in your liquids, Eddie’s mouth falling open in hopes of catching something, anything. 

Before he knows it he’s cumming all over his stomach, his seed splattering against the dark ink of his tattoos. He’s shivering and panting, muscles twitching when your lips press against his tummy and kiss right over the drops of his cum. He moans as you slurp it up, your pink muscle moving up his sternum and then slotting your lips against his in a desperate, wet kiss. 

Your tongue plays with his, making loops around it as you let his cum drip down his throat, feeding it to him. Eddie groans into your mouth, mumbles a curse when it spills from between his lips and down your chin. 

You pull away to clean the mess off your face, forcing your sticky and wet fingers into his mouth so he can taste you too. He stares at you dazedly as he sucks on them, makes sure they are squeaky clean while you collect the creamy substance from your chin. When he’s done, he lets them go with a quiet pop! and grabs the back of your neck, tongue licking at the remnants of himself along your jaw. 

You giggle at the weird sensation, dropping your weight on his chest and puckering out your lips for another kiss. “Will you listen to me talk about my new dress now?” you ask him, brushing away the flyaway hairs sticking to the side of his face. 

Eddie laughs, giving your ass a firm slap and squeezing the fat, jiggling it lovingly. “I’m all ears, sweet thing.”