#(and so true. that woman was a witch) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

esouliie · 2 months

Text

DONT POKE THE BEAR.

– pairing | wanda maximoff x fem! reader

– synopsis | you’re known to be quite a tease, especially for your girlfriend, but what happens when you push her too far? will she be able to control herself or will you force her hand?

– warnings | smut, thigh riding, wanda wants to be your mommy hehe, strap on (r!receiving), orgasm denial duh, she eats it from the back :33, face slapping, crybaby reader again, wanda is kinda mean and punishes you ig but she’s so cute with it idc. (18+)

As you entered the room, you couldn’t help but freeze at the sight before you. There she was, the tall and intimidating woman you had grown so fond of, tucked snugly in bed with a book in hand. But what caught you off guard were the glasses perched on her nose – the nerdiest looking frames you had ever seen.

You felt a bubbling laughter rise within you, threatening to burst out uncontrollably. It wasn't just the glasses themselves, but the stark contrast they created against her usual, intense demeanor. You had never seen her in glasses before, and the image was both endearing and hilarious.

Struggling to contain your amusement, you approached your side of the bed cautiously, trying not to let on that you were on the verge of laughter. But a few giggles slipped and she looked up from her book, a hint of curiosity in her eyes, and you quickly composed yourself, managing to offer a sheepish smile instead.

“What's so funny?" She asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

Unwilling to lie, you admitted, “you look like a nerd,” and unable to hide your amusement now, you laughed freely.

She was used to your teasing, your playful jabs that never fail to stir her up. In another universe, perhaps, she'd have you over her lap, your apologies tumbling out as you, painfully, realise the extent of your teasing and how mean it was to tease your mommy…

But in this universe, she couldn’t. Not until you were ready.

So she simply chuckled, “and you look like a goof,” eyes trailing down to between your legs, paying close attention to your underwear…

Your bow print underwear.

“Hey! I’ll have you know you loved this goofy apparel the other day.” You cocked your head to the side, stretching up on your knees so your vest rides higher, revealing the top of your underwear where a little pink flower resides, “You loved it so much, I believe you were unable to keep your hands off of me.”

You were obviously right.

Wanda had a thing for you in cute panties instead of sexy lingerie, seeing as stocking and garter belts were more her speed.

Ever the tease, you pulled the duvet off the woman, sending the book flying - as if you even cared - before straddling her warm thighs.

“Oh yeah?” She retorted unemotionally. She wasn’t going to give into your bratty behaviour, no matter how cute you looked on top of her.

“Oh yeah.” You replied mischievously, with a few rolls of your hips. But her hands had latched on before you could continue, halting all your attempts to turn her on.

“Not tonight.”

“Come on, nerd.” You whined, hands attempt to pry hers of your hips. “It’s not even late yet.”

Unmoving, she replied, “don’t call me that.”

“What? You are though.” You ran over her appearance once again, her red curls held high in a loose ponytail as her baby hairs flew abashedly in each direction.

So fucking cute and yet so sexy.

You leaned forward, chest brushing hers. “I mean, who would’ve thought the big, bad Scarlet Witch would need nerdy glasses.”

“What did I say, moya lyubov?” She warned but your fingers only toyed with the arms of her frames, forcing the lenses up and down with each push.

Your incessant need to push buttons drew you closer to a point of no return. Your girlfriend could only take so much more before she snapped.

“Aw is the little witch crying?” You fake cooed, hands playing with the ends of her hair, ready to pull as you deliver the final blow.

“Only a true nerd would get so upset about being called one.”

Pain heated her scalp as her neck was yanked back, but only for a second as you let go of the pressure. Her eyes flashed with a mixture of frustration and anger as she grabbed under your armpits, hauling your off her lap like a ragdoll before pinning your wrists above your head.

You felt a surge of fear mixed with a strange excitement as she held you in place, having pushed Wanda so much she’s actually snapped. No longer the collective, push-over girlfriend she had portrayed herself as.

“Are you stupid?” She spat, her entire weight resting upon your stomach. “You don’t listen, do you?”

Clearly unfazed by her words, you smile up at the woman, bucking your hips into her. “Well I guess not, Einstein.”

Even without much strength to it, the sound of the slap is loud. Your head ripped to the side as you gasped for air. Soon enough, you found yourself facing the woman above you. The offending hand now cupping your chin, as light fingers danced over your cheek, already turning red.

You went to speak but she shushed you, soft lips pressed over yours. “No more.” Is all she said but you understood what she meant, as you nod slowly.

No more lip tonight.

“I didn’t want to have to do that.” She brushed a few stray tears away, unbeknownst that you had even been crying. “But you were being bad, baby. Not my usual good girl.”

“I’m sorry.” You whispered, voice unsure of the situation you’re in. Wanda looked mad still, really mad, even though you were only joking around.

“I know, baby, but it’s not nice to be mean to me like that.”

“I was only joking…” You looked away, unable to stand her cold gaze any longer.

Her grip on your chin returned to bring your eyes back to hers. “And I told you to stop, didn’t I?”

You nodded weakly, feeling a knot forming in your stomach. You knew she was right, but you didn’t think you hurt Wanda that much. Not enough for her to slap you anyways.

She released her hold on you, moving back against the headboard before pulling you back onto her lap.

She watched you for a second, nothing your refusal to meet her eyes. You looked ashamed, but not too phased of the situation.

“You okay?” She asked, palms resting soothingly on your bottom.

“I’m okay.” You replied as you twirled her nightgown in your fist. “My cheek hurts though.”

“Good.” With that, she pulls you forward, starting a slow steady pace against her stomach, fingers groping, as you take the pleasure with gratitude.

You gasped at the friction, and Wanda chuckled when she felt the damp patch across your panties. “Oh. You liked that, didn’t you? Like when I hurt you, baby?”

Not knowing if she really wanted an answer, you nodded quickly. Hands holding tighter onto her shoulders as you try to speed up, but she moved you off her.

She stood up, leaving her glasses on her bedside table, working her way over towards the wardrobe. Looking over her shoulder, she said, “Now let’s see how you like to be teased.”

…

You’re sat on the edge of the bed, and Wanda stepped between your legs, the red dildo pressing against your chest as she strokes it like it was actually her own.

“Do you like it?”

“You know I was the one that bought it for you.” You couldn’t help but say with a playful eye roll, but she wasn’t having it. Her hand snaked around your neck, applying immediate pressure before you could even realise.

“Do you want another?” She asked coldly, referring to the red mark now prominent on your cheek.

Fearfully, you shake your head as much as she allows you. “Then stop with the attitude.”

Ignoring your mumbled apologies, she leaned down to kiss you wetly, forcing your mouth open as she shoves her tongue inside.

“Move up.” She pushed you back up the bed, crawling atop you. You sighed, raising your hands to cup Wanda’s breasts spilling from her night slip.

“You want this?” She asked, rocking her hips so the silicone rubbed against your sodden panties.

You licked your lips before circling her hardened nipple. with your thumb. “Yes. Please.”

“Good girl.” She rolled over, moving up to the head of the bed. She sat back, against her pillows and patted her thighs. “Come here.”

You followed her, hands grabbing onto her shoulders. “Like this?” You lifted a leg, straddling across her hips.

“No. Up here.” She removed your hands putting them up on the headboard. “Don’t touch me until I say so.”

Wanda noticed your hesitancy, your eyes solely focused on what’s between her legs. It was bigger than what you usually took.

She guided you to sit slowly, fingers pulling your underwear to the side, feeling yourself stretch around her as you gasped at the intrusion.

“Feels good, baby?” She asked and once again you’re left speechless, only capable of nodding your head stupidly. “Yeah? Your face says it all.”

You rocked your hips slightly, the pleasure all too consuming to stay still much longer.

Wanda chuckled at the state of you, fighting the urge to slap your bottom just to see your timid self jump.

“Come on. Just ride me baby.”

And you did. Your initial shyness long forgotten as you gripped the headboard tighter, and lifted yourself almost all the way off her cock, before bringing yourself back down. You quickly worked yourself up to a steady pace, head dropping low to kiss Wanda hard on the mouth.

She enjoyed the view, tits bouncing within the confinement of your vest, as her dick disappeared inside your swollen pussy. She pushed her thumb against your covered clit, your movement faltering for a moment at the added pressure, before feeling your orgasm start to take over.

“Don’t.”

You heard her say and your eyes snapped open.“What?”

“Don’t come. Stop.” She grabbed your hips, stopping you from moving.

“What? Why?” You asked breathless. You could feel yourself pulse around her, your orgasm fading from view as your body willed you to move, to chase it.

“I told you.” She pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’m going to tease you. Now, start again. Go slow.”

You whimpered softly and began riding her again, trying not to go too fast. You managed a good pace, each thrust at the same speed as you rocked against her.

“Ah. Slower.”

You huffed, halting all together, before thrusting into what felt like too slow of a motion to make you come. Besides, your thighs had started to burn as you kept moving at this pace for what felt like hours.

“Wanda.” You mumbled, unable to hold onto the headboard any longer, your arms wrap tight around her shoulders, wanting to feel the woman pressed close against you.

She didn’t give you permission to touch but couldn’t find it within herself to reprimand you when you’ve been listening to her so well.

She stroked your curls from your face. “That’s a good girl.” She cooed soothingly, “Such a good girl. Tell me what you want.”

“I want to come.” You said, voice akin to a whine.

She pressed a few kisses across your face, “You’re going to have to ask nicer than that.”

You made a sound, something between a laugh and a sob, as tears fell down your cheeks. “Please, Wanda.” You paused, sinking further down until she was all the way inside you.

“Keep moving, baby.” She pulled your hips forwards and backwards. “Like this. Nice and slow.”

“So beautiful.” She whispered into your hair, trailing more kisses across your face until she reached your lips.

Your pleas fell on silent ears for a while longer as Wanda worked you up to your limit. Not wanting to overstimulate you but just pushing enough to see how far she can go. How far she can push you into that little headspace she wants to keep you in. “Okay, baby. You need to do exactly what I tell you, okay?”

You hummed and she continued. “You need to get off me and go lay down on your stomach.”

It took a second for your brain to compute what she said, but you did so willingly, and your cunt ached at the feeling of being so empty.

“Good girl. Now, on your knees, I need to put a pillow under your hips.” To which you did, as Wanda positioned her pillow under you. You went to lay down, all too familiar with this position, but hands on your waist stopped you.

A warmth spread across you as Wanda licked up your ruined underwear. The white cotton stuck to you she could see the outline of your pussy so vividly. She moaned at the taste, and you whined embarrassingly loud, pushing your hips back into her face, hoping she’d let you come this time. But she pulled always, as the telltale signs of your orgasm come forth, and knocked you off balance, falling into the soft duvet under you.

“I’m sorry, baby. I couldn’t help myself.” She ran soothing hands up and down your back, before pulling your underwear off of you.

She didn’t want to keep you waiting much longer, deciding two denials was enough for your first time.

“You taste so good, but I want you to come on my cock, okay? I promise Im going to let you come this time.”

You mumbled an okay and she took that as the initiative to slide into you. She slowly pulled out and drove back in, in a swift, hard motion, eliciting a loud, surprised moan from you. She repeated this for a little while, watching her dick disappear inside you, only pulling out to thrust back in with vigour, each time causing a moan to escape your lips.

“Please. Faster.” You managed to say and she took pity.

“Okay, baby. No more teasing.” She began thrusting vehemently into you, her own groans mixing with yours as the toy applied pressure to her nerves. Noticing how your body trembled, she leaned forward, the position allowing her to move deep inside your walls, as she boldly swiped her tongue over the shell of your ear, lightly biting the lobe.

One hand moved from beside your head, distributing some of her weight to your lower back as she sat up, the shift causing her to fuck up into the front of your walls.

“Come for me.”

To her surprise, you didn’t come right away. Your body too concerned with what felt like electric shocks as you thrashed under Wanda’s body.

Words melted into nothing as they were cut off by a strangled cry, tears streaming down your face onto the bed.

She turned you over, careful not to pull out as you’d clamped down on her, as she descended upon your lips. “Oh, my good girl.” Her lips moved up over your eyes, “You did so good for me.”

You chose to use what little energy left to wrap your arms around Wanda, pulling her flush to your body as you shook through the after waves.

She whispered sweet nothings as her fingers run upon and down your side until you calmed down.

“You okay, baby? You need anything?”

You hummed, exhaustion evident in your voice. “No, that was fun.” You kissed her lips, playfully poking your tongue at her.

“But you’re still a nerd.”

She scoffed but rolled over, not missing the way your grimace as she pulled out.

“I should’ve slapped you harder.” She mumbled, as she quickly discarded the toy, pulling the duvet over you both, fearing sleep would come quick with how long you guys had been at it.

Oh well, she’d just have to teach you a lesson some other day.

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #idk how i feel about this …

2K notes · View notes

germanich · 3 months

Text

My OC Xallergh Her mother was surprised when a tiefling was born. She was terrified and decided to give the girl to the local witches in exchange for normal children from now on. Xallergh was brought to the hags and raised by them to become a member of the coven.

Xallergh was always drawn to people anyway, often putting on an illusion on herself to look like a human so she could go out into the local village to interact with the locals and passing adventurers.

One day she fell in love with a woman in the village, and decided to reveal who she was and show her true colors. But the woman was frightened by this.

Seeing Xallergh's true colors, all the locals turned on her, chasing her away by stones and pitchforks Anyway, she didn't want to become a new hag, not wanting to be feared by the people, she left her "moms".

#artists on tumblr #oc #oc artwork #original work #original character #oc stuff #pathfinder wrath of the righteous #pathfinder OC #dnd tiefling #dnd #dnd character #dnd art #tiefling #pathfinder

2K notes · View notes

artytaeh · 17 days

Text

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

THEODORE NOTT— a popular slytherin, an introvert at heart, despite his reputation as a womanizer. theodore nott, who has a big, terrible communication problem.

with the pure terror of displaying his vulnerable emotions, theodore smokes cigarettes to force his emotions to disappear with the wind; bites his inner lip and cheek until his mouth bleeds, so no tears threaten to make way to his eyes.

when theodore nott cries, he stares blankly into the wall. he doesn't sob— sobbing would make him even weaker, more vulnerable, less capable and definitely useless, in his father's eyes.

silent tears are the epitome of theodore's sadness, because other than that, his sadness, stress and troubled thoughts are never known. hidden by a mask of stoic expressions.

theodore nott is 'stupid' smart. if he wasn't a slytherin at heart and soul, then he'd be a ravenclaw, or at least that's what the professors comment amongst them. theo enjoys reading, and would easily spend his afternoon on a silent, vacant corner of the castle, devouring a book in few hours.

he lies, saying that it's simply because knowledge is a good weapon. he'd be saying the truth, if theodore confesses that he reads this much, because whether be it fiction or not, he can escape his thoughts to fully concentrate on the book's contents.

theodore nott is knowledgeable, theodore nott is a good, straight-A's student. theodore nott is quick-witted; you wouldn't want to banter with him, because usually, he gets the last word with a victorious, cheeky smile— an insufferable cocky grin.

and yet, shamefully, theodore nott has no idea how to verbalize his feelings.

every good liar is like this, he'd argue. in exchange of spilling the most atrocious lies with a straight face and nonchalant tone, theodore finds it awfully hard to tell the truth.

ask him what's wrong— you can do that, sure. now, if theodore will answer you, that's another story. and to give you a genuine answer, if he doesn't snap? then an angel must have fallen down its altar.

then, if he can't verbalize or trust anyone, not even mattheo riddle or lorenzo berkshire on a good day— what does theodore nott do, to deal with his full mind and empty heart?

theodore nott destroys.

he destroys other living beings,

being the first one to join mattheo riddle, with a smile on his face, when his best friend snaps at the smallest hint of disrespect. throwing a (not really) deserved punch at a guy that honestly, if you ask him afterwards, theodore has no idea what he done wrong.

when lorenzo scolds mattheo for starting a fight and reprimands theodore for indulging it, the slytherin simply shrugs. he's "looking out for his bro", he says. that's only partially true, as much as he deeply cares for mattheo.

everytime that he starts fights, like a rabid dog. theodore doesn't really know when he stopped being il dolce ragazzo of his madre. when he became a dog that bites without thinking about barking first. "so much for claiming to be the logical one," — lorenzo muses.

... he destroys himself.

which would explain the concerning amount of muggle, wizarding, flavored, all shaped packs of cigarettes he owns. there isn't a brand that he didn't try, at least once— the more harmful, the better.

smoking until his lungs become as black as his heart, as his dark thoughts. smoking, until he drops dead with his worries. smoking, until theodore nott becomes a better man (something that he doubts he could do, for he was born a broken man— born from a couple that should have never crossed paths with each other).

consequently, damaging his hands. skin that becomes calloused and slightly scarred from the cigarettes. knuckles constantly bruised from throwing punches at gryffindors or smartass ravenclaws.

so, theodore nott starts believing that he's unlovable. that loving him— oh, that would be torture. pure masochism, that he wouldn't wish to anyone, not even the witch he dislikes or rolls his eyes at the most.

and that becomes a creeping fear of his. oh, theodore is terrified, when the thought of becoming like his father plagues his mind.

to think that he'd become such a disgusting man, the man who brought so much pain to his mother, that killed the only person who truly loved him.

what would his mother say, if she saw him like this?

would she be disappointed, would she be ashamed to even spare a look at him? would her beautiful porcelain face become a frown, would she walk away, disgusted?

theodore consumes three more cigarettes on that thought alone.

... or would she give him a sympathetic look, gazing at her dolce, bravo ragazzo with those tender eyes of hers? a shade of blue, that theodore was fortunate to inherit.

a sad smile makes its way to his lips. because now, even for a brief moment, theo is himself again. he's not a casanova slytherin, he's not the heir of the nott family. theodore nott is simply his mother's little boy, her teddy.

in honor of such bittersweet memories, theo drops his cigarette and doesn't smoke for at least 24 hours.

theo doesn't know how to deal with comfort. genuinely tender touches, fingertips grazing his skin so lightly—

of desperately needy, lustful touches, he knows. he knows them very well, from all those times he slept with a woman, ruined her for the next guy. from the times a slytherin girl gripped and pushed his hair, needing, begging more of his mouth on her; or when a gryffindor got so lost in pleasure that she left the mark of her nails on his back; when a hufflepuff senior clenched her fingers on his torso, hips and shoulders, screaming for more, deeper, faster; that time when he found a way to shut up a particularly insufferable ravenclaw know-it-all by fucking her mouth, and when he felt the back of her throat on him, the stubborn ravenclaw gripped, scratched, protested on his thighs.

of harsh, violent, cruel, merciless touches, everytime mr. nott decided that a disgusted, disappointed gaze wasn't enough to educate his son. when those knuckles adorned with rings curled into a fist, and theodore was beaten into discipline. all those times he started fights and consequently got hit by a punch or two, even though theodore is a good fighter, and makes sure that even if he does get hurt, the receiving end is in worse state, in need of more than one night in the infirmary wing.

⋯ ⋯ ﹒ 🪻 ’

... but comforting, meant to soothe, gentle touches? oh, theo is terrified of them. rather than flinching away from a fist coming his way, theo looks like a scaredy cat when fingers come to brush his hair away from his face, with all the love and care of the world.

theo doesn't know those touches. to be fair, yes, he was acquainted with them once— but that was long, long ago, when his mother was still alive. a life ago, really, because sometimes theodore wonders if he's the same teddy he once was, under the protective but loving arms of his mother.

so at first, theo panics when you hug him, when you physically bring comfort to his broken, damaged heart.

but then?

then, after he gets a taste of how heavenly it feels to be held by someone he loves? then, theo embraces the fact that he is indeed a touch starved man. then, theo completely and shamelessly melts under your touch, relaxing in your embrace, wishing to never leave this safe haven.

( or maybe he does. a little voice on the back of his mind, menacingly suggesting that this safe haven, this loving harbor — you — might disappear into thin air by the cruel hands of his father, the same he did with his mother. )

but before his truly prodigious brain dares to overthink once again— your hands comb through his hair, brushing it back along with his worries, massaging the scalp and melting the troubled thoughts away. that's when theo closes his eyes. that's when he, finally, is in peace with himself.

and if you'd ask him; this is when and where theodore nott is the happiest. this is when theodore nott is teddy again.

౨ৎ these voices in my head screaming ♡ ͡

run now. i'm praying that they're human . . .

🪻 ; . . . fandom : harry potter.

— my motivation? it's a silly little drabble, about my favorite slytherin. theodore nott deserves love, seriously.

the headers + gifs + icons aren't mine. credits to the respective creators ! 🌷

#theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #harry potter #harry potter drabbles #theo nott x reader #theo not x you #slytherin boys react #angst #angst headcanons #theodore nott dating #dating headcanons #angst with a happy ending #mentions of abuse #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #slytherin x reader

671 notes · View notes

luminiamore · 28 days

Text

ghostface armin arlert x black witch reader

warnings: minnie is psycho & stalker ish, murder (not reader), possessive, mention of branding, minnie has a big d!ck!

a/n: i just wanna say that scenario is crazy, but it’s armin!!!

masterlist

New York City, renowned as the place where dreams come true, the city that never sleeps, but also, unfortunately, the city where danger lurks. Recent events have shaken the East Side with a series of gruesome murders, each marked by the presence of a Ghostface mask. Residents, be vigilant: lock your doors, stay armed, and avoid deserted alleyways. Let’s unite to ensure the safety of our beloved city.

Armin remained indifferent as he listened to the static emanating from the car radio, his expression unmoved. Tsk. As if that would save them. On that dark night, a vast moon cast its glow across the sky. A faint swoosh of cold water could be heard from the harbor directly beneath the Brooklyn Bridge. The cream-colored 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air he had stolen roughly 20 minutes earlier emitted a creaking sound before finally coming to a stop.

He forcefully shut the fragile car door before moving deliberately to the other side. With swift motion, he dragged the unconscious, thin man, securely bound in the passenger seat, onto the freshly laid cement pavement. Two sharp punches to the face jolted the man awake.

“Damn it!” The man grimaced, holding his now bloody nose. “Listen, I’ve got about a grand in my wallet. Just take it! Please, I haven’t done anything!” Armin listened to the desperate pleas, his oceanic eyes rolling in irritation. He contemplated shutting the man up with another punch. With a sigh, he grabbed him by the collar and dragged him towards the edge of the dock.

“D’you want to know why you’re here?” Armin coolly asks, unfazed by the tears the man started dropping. His patience was wearing thin; just looking at his face made him itch to kill him.

“N-no! Please, I just started college! I have-” Armin lands another punch on his jaw, a resounding crack at his sheer force echoing across the empty dock. The man groans as his eyes twitch slowly, open and close. Armin crouches down, bringing himself to eye level with the man on the ground, his gaze fixed on the screwed-up, bloodied, frowned face.

“Does the name Y/n L/n ring a bell to you? You wouldn’t like the outcome if you lie, so try not to.” He asks yet another question with a flat face. The man looks up with a shaky breath; in fact, his entire body is shaking. He nods, trembling.

Armin gives a hum, “I thought it did. Do you remember the interaction with her just yesterday?” He calmly tuts, tilting the man’s semi-dislocated jaw as if examining him.

“L-Listen-” The man gets cut off again with a forceful grip on the same jaw. He cries out at the pain.

“Think about your next words, Porco.” His voice deepens by an octave, and Armin’s demeanor is noticeably less composed this time, his anger slipping beyond his control.

“I was high out of my mind, man! I don’t- I don’t remember anything!” The dirty blonde-haired man sobs. He was petrified for his life. Tonight, Armin wasn’t even adopting his other persona, Ghostface; he was acting solely as himself. He didn’t want the police to suspect —what could he even call her?

The woman he stalks every day? The woman he kills for?The woman who causes him to beat his dick red every night at just her aroma? The woman he craved incessantly, day in and day out? The woman he’s in love with?

“No? That’s okay, I’d love to refresh your memory.” The moment Porco gazes up in desperation, his breath catches at the sight of a knife—the same knife he had seen on TV after the news reporter detailed yet another gruesome murder by the man in a ghost mask. Am I about to die? That same thought again and again was at the forefront of his mind; it was a broken record.

“You approached her pretty arrogantly, might I add. You tried to take her home, but naturally, she denied. You got upset,” Armin drags the knife slowly against the blue vein on his neck. Lightly grazing, barely applying any pressure to make a mark. He draws closer to the petrified man.

“You touched her.” He seethes. “But my girl is strong and pretty special, too. So, she handled you. I’m sure you remember that, there’s the bruise right here to prove it.” He applies pressure with the tip of the knife to a purple bruise on the left side of his throat. A slow trickle of blood falls down the inside of Porco’s shirt.

“S-She already made me apologize, man. I don’t k-know how many times I can say sorry-” The sound of gurgling pierced the stillness. Armin, tired of listening, drove the infamous Bowie Knife into the man’s neck, then glanced to the side.

The man feebly tried to grab Armin’s arm; he was nowhere near stronger, though, and once Armin twisted the knife, the struggle abruptly stopped. He pushed the knife deeper. Porco, too deeply penetrated, fell limp on the ground.

Armin paused, taking out his phone to check the time. ‘10:47’ Shit. It was almost time to check on his girl. He still had one more kill left before he saw her again tonight. He swiftly pulled out the knife from the dead man’s neck and kicked him right into the freezing water below. This was one kill he didn’t want Ghostface to be responsible for.

This next kill, though, he did. He strolled over to the classic car, retrieved the black hood and cloak with jagged edges, and draped it over himself. The ghost mask rested on the leather seats, its eyes fixed on him under the moonlight. With a slight smirk on his pink lips, he picked it up and disappeared into the night.

Quite to the contrary, New York wasn’t your birthplace. Your parents were esteemed practitioners of witchcraft in Cap Haitian, Haiti, renowned for their formidable abilities throughout the country. However, their prominence also drew numerous adversaries. When you were born, they resolved to shield you from the harsh realities of their world and allow you a childhood free from the burdens of survival. Thus, they made the decision to move to the mystical city of New Orleans.

There, they taught you their practices. Every day was dedicated to honing your powers, relentlessly training until you surpassed both of them following their passing. Despite possessing the ability to prolong their lives, your parents chose to embrace their human existence and concluded that their time on Earth had reached its fulfillment.

The pain was too bearing for you, and so you decided to move to The Big Apple. Impulsive decision on your part, really; you just wanted to get away. But your life in New York proved to be incredibly peaceful, your only concerns being your powers and the three cats you lived with.

It started off being peaceful, but your beauty unfortunately came with repercussions, too. With senses finely attuned, you remained acutely aware of your surroundings, quickly detecting a figure shadowing your every move. At first, you believed he was stalking you with intentions of abduction, and though you suspected he was a killer, three months passed without him making any advances towards you.

It was a game. You noticed him watching you closely, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was aware of your awareness as well. Armin knew you wouldn’t address him first, and he was fine with just stalking you. But Armin was just a man. A man who got captivated by your beauty every time he saw you. A man who noticed that killing everyone who approached you would be a never-ending task. A man who made the consecutive decision to claim you instead.

Claims come in different forms, Armin knew that. He could brand you, permanently etching his name into your body so you knew you were his. He could mark you, letting the world know he was the only one who had the pleasure of painting your skin like a canvas. His favorite idea so far was to dump his seed past your pretty brown pussy lips daily.

Would you let him? Who were you kidding? You were aware of someone monitoring your movements nearly around the clock, yet you still chose to wet your sheets almost every week with the help of your Rose toy. He’ll make sure to punish you for that. The only time he ever wanted you to come was with him. You even leave your windows open as if inviting him to perform such a task. He knows you’re not stupid; your actions had a purpose.

You sat on your silk cream sheets, arranging your supplies and ingredients for another round of setting up a protection spell. The lavender and rose sage aroma filled the air, leaving a potent scent of smoke in the background. You were genuinely fatigued from constantly performing various iterations of the same spell each day. Why weren’t they working?

Black salt, Rosemary, Cinnamon, Bay Leaves, Mint, and Sage ashes. With the black salt, you draw a circle around you and light tall black candles in the dim light of your room. You start chanting.

Elements of the moon,

Elements of the night,

Come this way

And grant me with your might.

Powers of night and day,

I summon thee,

I call upon thee,

To protect me.

So shall it be.

The flames coming from the candle become stronger, whooshing rapidly. An unseen gust extinguishes the flames and sends the sand you placed around you swirling into the air. Huh? That wasn’t supposed to happen. That shouldn’t have happened. Why the fuck did that happen?

As rustling outside your window catches your attention, you glance sharply but see nothing. Returning your focus to your sacred space, you raise your hand, ready to relight the candles, only to be halted by a gentle yet commanding voice.

“You look pretty tonight, Y/n,” Armin catches your attention as he stands from behind your closet door. You had yet to spot him. You understood the importance of maintaining composure and clarity in moments like these. The awareness of being followed had long been present, ever since it began. The protective spells were intended to deter him, yet frustration mounted as they proved ineffective against his persistence.

Armin wasn’t really thinking of any of that; rather, he fixated on how the red robe you wore accentuated the curves of your ample chest. The way you knelt emphasized the softness of your thighs, he wanted to drown in between them.

“Come out. You’ve stalked me enough,” Your honeyed voice calls out. You survey the room, your gaze shifting from the cabinet housing your altar to your queen-sized bed and then to the wooden door of your walk-in closet. Your gaze settled on there a few seconds longer before shifting away.

You hear a small chuckle, and your frown only deepens, “The fuck is funny?” You’re about to get up from your position on your carpeted floor, only to be stopped by a large hand on your shoulder. When did he even move? Armin sits on the edge of your bed, eyes taking in every inch of you. When he firmly presses down to keep you still, your breath hitches.

You sense his presence drawing closer, the fabric of your silk robe brushing against him. Though you didn’t know what he looked like, his energy alone had you on the verge of surrender, prepared to relinquish control of your mind to him. You always knew you weren’t normal. After all, you are a witch. Getting sticky from a man that smelled like Baccarat Rouge 540 and commanded attention from just aura alone, though? That was beyond you.

“Relax, love.” He whispered gently in your ear, as if not to scare you. You were anything but. Your nerves were racking up in a different way, and small tears of sweat were forming on the inside of your pressed thighs. You had no panties on, and when Armin leaned down into the crook of your neck to smell you, his eyes caught sight of this.

“E-excuse me? Nigga if you don’t-” You continued to resist and shuffle out of his grip, and Armin understood the reason behind it. Your pride stood as a barrier to your surrender, but he remained undeterred. He’ll break you soon enough.

He silenced you abruptly with a firm grip on your delicate throat. He couldn’t afford to lose his cool with you—not unless he was fucking up your insides. You weren’t in control here. And the problem was, you still thought you were.

“That’s wasn’t nice. Be nice, Y/n.” He squeezed tightly, restricting your airway a bit. You knew you weren’t normal when you felt a long trickle of your slick slip down the side of your soft brown flesh at the action.

“I want you, y’know? I think-” He pauses and sucks in a breath when he brushes his nose right against your sweet spot. You shudder. “I think I like you?” He seems confused himself, Armin really never felt this way before. He couldn’t even describe precisely what he was feeling with accuracy. Infatuation? Obsession? Devotion? He doesn’t know, but what he does know is that he would gladly offer you the world on the finest silver platter if you so desired.

“I’d like to show you. I want to give you everything I’ve been feeling for the past three months. Let me, baby.” He tilts your head in his direction, your lips a hair away from each other. When you steal a glance at his face, your slick only gets heavier. Fuck, he was pretty. His porcelain face is adorned with small dried splatters of blood, his oceanic eyes framed by long, hooded lashes, and his medium-length blond hair gently brushing against your cheeks.

This wasn’t a good idea, you knew that. Armin couldn’t share the moral compass you thinly held onto because he was just so consumed. He was entirely taken by you, believing that you might have staked a claim on him before he had the chance to do the same to you.

Any doubts and moral compass you held vanish through your half-opened window as he tenderly presses his pink lips against your full ones. Initially gentle, as if testing your response, he gradually presses harder when you offer no resistance, deepening it with intimacy.

You gasp when he squeezes your throat once more, allowing him to slip his skillful tongue into yours. The force of his kiss caused you to moan out in slight desperation. He smiles at this without pulling away from your addictive lips. He presses into you even more.

The way you gave in so easily felt completely out of your will, this wasn’t like you. You usually had more self-control, but before you even caught a glance at this man, he had you captivated. There was something about him, the mystery he held, the danger that clinched onto him just by breathing. It made you curious, eager to know more about the man who didn’t bother to hide his intense desire for you. And you alone.

Armin had a reputation for his patience, remaining consistently composed and collected. But, you and your perfect face had a way of unsettling him, causing him to act out of character with every move you made. He was keenly aware of this, finding himself compelled to do things for you that he had never considered doing for anyone else. Tonight, he learned that patience might not be his strong suit anymore.

Your skin felt like it was being electrified as his right hand traced a slow path down your body. Starting from your neck, trailing down to the center of your chest, and finally arriving at the fat of your pussy. You almost instantly grind against his middle finger, wanting him to do more.

He noticed of course, he noticed everything about you. “I want you to beg, baby. Can you do that for me?” His whisper makes you shake in anticipation. You were wet, dripping all over the fabric of your carpet.

“P-Please-” You abruptly cut your whimpers off, realizing something that had completely slipped your mind: you didn’t even know his name. You snapped back into reality in a split second, struck by this realization.

Once more, he noticed. “It’s Armin. Moan it real pretty for me, kay?” The way he knew what you were thinking made you less hesitant to give him what he wanted you. What made your control slip was when he slid his finger down to the top of your sopping clit and rubbed lightly, enough pressure to make you squirm. He liked teasing you.

“S-Stop teasing- Ah!” He shuts you up when he presses two fingers harder, his rubbing making tight circles. Your breathing starts getting heavier at the bliss he’s making you feel.

The blonde asshole only smugly tutted at you, “What was that? I didn’t hear you beg, Y/n. Come on, you’re a smart girl.”

He was teasing as if his heart wasn’t beating outside of his chest, just being this close to you. He was internally scrambling at how your slick was so much it fell off his fingers. He wanted to taste you. He wanted you to beg so he could taste you.

You would’ve kept quiet, not feeding into his antics. But, he made you feel so.. good. The way his fingers rubbed up and down your slit, not quite going inside your tight walls. His rapid kisses all over your face and down your neck. The way you could feel his print, pressing heavily on your silk fabric. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Please just- Shit. T-Touch me, Min.” He groans and exhales sharply at the name your blank mind mustered. Min. You called him Min.

Without warning, Armin hoists you up from the floor and gently places you onto your ice-cold sheets. Lying on your back, your red robe barely clung to your brown skin. You were completely exposed to him, your freshly painted white toenails grazing his shoulders, your soft thighs spread so that sticky pussy was on full display for him.

You must’ve been an angel or a goddess that he’d gladly worship. He could make a religion out of loving you, you were just that enchanting. He leans into your inner thigh and presses a kiss. It burns your skin. He presses another kiss, this time on your twinkling pearl. You jolt.

Maybe teasing wasn’t the best option for him. His erection was painfully hard in his black sweats, his impatient longing hidden from you as he bucks on the edge of your bed. You were too busy choking out pitiful cries when his lips latched onto your sweet nectar. “Oh, fuck!”

You started to feel hazy, your heart pounding and your brown eyes dazed at all the attention he was giving your pussy. Your hip began to spasm and twitch when he sucked harder, teasing your creamy opening with his long finger.

“Say my name, mama. You remember it, right?” His husky plea fills the air. This time, you didn’t hesitate to let anyone within a 5-mile radius know who was eating you as if he starved himself all day just for this.

“A-Armin- Oh shit, Min! Please, more!” You sob, begging him to drench himself in you. He obliged, more than happily. He was at your disposal for the night and many more to come.

His ring and index finger find themselves nestled deep in your core. He stimulates your sensitive parts fast, quickening his pace inside of you. He relishes in the loud cry you make, latching on your pretty clit again. He knew how messy you could get, I mean look at how you were leaking. You had to be tired of changing your, no doubt, expensive sheets when you ruin them like this.

You felt a burning pressure in your gut, were you coming already? Armin answers your thoughts for you. His movements speed up, and the sounds of light smacking from how deep he was penetrating your g-spot echoed in your room. Your back tries to arch off the bed, the pleasure becoming too much for you. Armin makes you take it, pressing his large hand over the pudge your stomach made. You squeal.

“Fuckk,” Your moans get dragged out when a clear sprinkle of your cum escapes you. You were in a frenzy, the loud, lewd squishing sound of your pussy filling your ears. It was like a dam bursting, and what kept your eyes permanently in the back of your head was when he didn’t stop sucking. How could he? It was like you tasted better when you came, and Armin wasn’t a fool. He was determined to not let a single drop go to waste.

He removes himself from your lips with a resounding pop. “I’m going to fuck you now. So, don’t run.” Your eyes widen at his statement, your jaw almost dropping at his sheer size when you realize his sweats are carelessly scattered on the floor. There’s no way that’ll fit inside of you.

Armin knew what you were thinking, he surveyed the way your eyes wandered around nervously. He grasps your chin and plants a gentle peck on your slightly pouting lips, intertwining his fingers with yours to calm your nerves.

“Breathe, mama.” He softly grunts. His kisses start getting heavier, blocking you from letting out a loud scream when he pushes into your weeping walls, inch by inch. He was making sure you felt everything, every vein, as he penetrated you. He blesses your ears with a breathy moan, caught off guard by how fucking tight you are.

He had to remind himself to breathe. Your muffled moans against his lips consume him, making his entire body tremble on you. You were being pushed to your limit, and Armin only paused for a second to let you adjust before his animalistic tendencies got the best of him. He wanted to fuck you up, bad.

His hips begin to snap against your twitching legs at a desperate pace. The position he had you in was honestly mind fucking. Your thighs were firmly pressed to your chest, his hands caressing the balls of your unusually soft feet. Was everything about you so smooth? So beautiful and perfect. He answered his own question when your frantic mewls got louder. Yes.

Your pussy was dripping all over his chest, all over the fat cock rapidly pushing in and out against your cervix. Your pretty tits bounced under him, matching the forceful thrusts he fed you. They looked too... bare for his taste. He wanted you to be covered in his love marks, he wanted to make it impossible for you to remove them. He leans down, somehow pressing your shaky thighs closer to your upper body.

His wet tongue laps around your dark areolas, biting and pulling at them with his teeth until you push your hands into his hair and pull hard. Armin becomes drowsy, losing himself in the comfort your body gave him. He sucks and bites on the fat of your pretty tits, leaving behind deep purple bruises.

Was this heaven? You thought you saw the pearly gates as he continued hitting your G-spot with extreme accuracy. Every deep thrust he made you take caused you to let out helpless, euphoric shrieks. You press your hands against his rock-hard chest, running away from the pleasurable torture you are receiving.

Well, you were trying to. You’ve convinced yourself you couldn’t take it, but Armin knows you can. So, why are you playing with him?

Armin grappled your wrists, pinning them above your head, and sucked his teeth, “You don’t listen?” He heatedly addresses you, trying so hard not to fill your perfect cunt with his seed.

“Why you running, mama?” He questions you softly as if he wasn’t splitting you in half with his girth. He listens to your jumbled screams with a sly smile, pressing a delicate kiss right next to your diamond nose ring.

“I- I can’t, Ouuu shit Min! Can’t take it- Oh god!” Your sweet voice wails out. He makes a tsk sound, and to prove that you can take it, Armin reaches a hand down your stomach. Not once stopping his merciless rhythm, he rubs your engorged clit, desperate to see you cum again. You keen, and in an instant, your sweet juices spray all over him, your creamy essence coating his cock.

“See, there you go. Fuck, you wanna take my cum, pretty? Want me to fill you up?” He deeply murmurs in your neck, sucking lazily. Your body falls limp against him. He was so close, so close to showing you just how much you have an effect on him. You nod frantically, mind not even on planet Earth as he overstimulates your now bruised pussy.

“Please, Min! I-I want it!”

How can he deny when you beg him like that? When you gaze up at him with tears in your eyes, as if he’s your sole lifeline. You look at him as if he’s your deity, as though you can’t exist without him. You’re almost sure that after tonight, you can’t. His thrusts start getting sloppy, his hips stuttering as they leave a resounding slap against yours. Armin tenses and whimpers pathetically in your ear, unable to take the ecstasy your wet cunt made him feel.

He gives you everything, all his cum, all his passion, and pumps in and out of your warm hole slowly. He shudders, his eyes clouded with pure infatuation as he leans down to force you into a nasty kiss. The kiss was incredibly messy; Armin seemed to be devouring you, with saliva escaping both your mouths as he began sucking on your tongue. When he notices you sucking in heavy breaths, he pulls away from you.

Armin pulled out of you, watching as his cum overflowed out of your sobbing slit. What a sight. He flips you over, on your stomach this time. You let out a long whine when he presses your back into a deep arch. What is he doing? His following words cause your breath to catch in your throat.

“You didn’t think we were done, right? Ass up, mama.”

701 notes · View notes

writersdrug · 1 month

Text

Nectar and Bane - Pt. 1

Pairings: Hunter!König x Witch!Reader

Pt. 2

Summary: König is hired to hunt down a pesky witch by a warlock, who paints you as the most evil thing in the past three centuries. With the promise of finding true love (or, the closest thing the warlock can offer: a brainwashed woman who is forced to dote on the hunter), König sets out on his journey. However, you aren't what he was expecting at all, and he develops a newfound obsession with making you become his.

Warnings: dubcon, mentions of rape, manipulation, kidnapping, sex pollen (kinda? If you squint? not really, but better safe than sorry), corruption kink, mentions of blood and violence, mentions of consuming human organs, unrequited pining, angst at the end, death (not for main characters), cowgirl, missionary, mating press, biting, hair pulling, nipple play, power imbalance, handjob, obsessive thoughts and behaviour (please let me know if I missed any!)

Notes: thought I'd try my hand a fantasy au version of cod, or at least of König. This is really long (over 15000 words) so I split it into two parts. The next part is pretty much done, I'm just exhausted and wanted to at least crank out half. Let me know if you would like to be tagged in pt 2!

ps if anyone has any suggestions or tips on how to make collages or banners for fics, pleeeaseeee lmk

translations at the end

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

Watch your every step. From the moment you step foot into those woods, you can’t trust anything you see.

That’s what the sorcerer had drilled into his head before he had begun his journey. He called you dangerous, cunning… “A sneaky, meddling bitch…” he had grumbled over the table in that crowded tavern.

Two small pouches, one of silver, one of gold, sat in between the two patrons on the table. Stains of ale and coffee rings littered the unvarnished wood. The wax of the thick candle had trickled down and formed small, hardened pools at the base – its flame flickered weakly, casting unflattering shadows against the man’s weathered features, and making the portentous hood covering König’s face only that much more ominous.

He'd listened warily as the sorcerer described the witch – you. Tens of centuries old, too much knowledge and too little wisdom to use it sensibly. You take whatever you want by whatever means possible, and your favored method was using your physical assets and the promise of sexual devotion to coerce those within your web to do your bidding. “Sometimes it’s for her personal gain – sometimes, she does it for fun.” The warlock added bitterly. “Akin to a serpent, she winds you into her embrace, and then crushes your bones before she swallows you whole, saving your heart for last.” You’d done it to him, ensnaring him into your alluring trap, before stealing his spellbooks, his potions, his most prized collections… and vanishing into thin air.

An enchantress, König had concluded.

The warlock’s request? “Kill her. And be quick with it. The sooner this earth is rid of that swine, the sooner we can all rest. And, better yet – bring me her eyes! Potent things, witches’ eyes can be – of course, that is if they’re still working. If the bitch has gone blind, don’t waste dulling your dagger. A handful of her hair would do just fine.”

König had killed much worse for much less, and this sounded like it would be on the simpler side of things. A few days’ worth of hunting and a quick, efficient kill – hopefully, one of his easier jobs, although with the way the sorcerer described you, that might not be. He’d dealt with magicians before; up until now, they had been rather boring to hunt – tedious, but nonetheless, boring. Most of the time, they tried to end him with some elaborate incantation in the few seconds remaining of their life after he’d ambushed them. His silver blade would be slicing across their throats before they could utter five syllables. They were always so intent on murdering their victims slowly and in a flashy manner. With König’s preference for a more immediate result, he was usually the one collecting the fingernails, teeth, and tongues.

(Over time, he’d had noticed that it was always sorcerers ordering the assassination of other sorcerers. He wondered why they had so much of an issue amongst themselves, but he didn’t question it. Whatever kept him fed and paid for his room, he would do it.)

The picture the warlock was painting of you, however, made you seem much craftier and more calculated. You couldn’t resist the glamorous ways of murder via magic – it was written in your nature as a witch. But you played the game with your charisma and wit, too; something magic users didn’t typically rely on (half of the time, because they weren’t charismatic, nor witty). You waited until your assailant would fall to your wicked charm, before dissecting him like nothing more than a toad for your cauldron. If not an easy kill, you at least sounded like you would be an exciting one – but König knew he could get something more from this client for killing you.

“What more can you offer me?” he asked.

The warlock chuckled. “The gold is insufficient, is it?” he leaned forward and hunched his shoulders, speaking in a hushed tone. “Tell me, what do you desire? Recognition and respect? Revenge against someone who’s crossed you? To bring back a loved one from the dead? Or, perhaps, to find a love of your own?”

König’s shoulders tensed, and the rest of the warlock’s utterances fell on deaf ears. Could he possibly give him a chance to find himself someone to love? Someone that he and only he can worship? It was true that he would be happier to live alone, in whatever way that would allow him to be independent of society… but the thought of being able to live alone with someone, someone who was devoted to him, someone who could decorate his hut with signs of life and warmth, someone with a kind smile and a sweet voice, someone who he could spend hours upon hours with, memorizing each curve of their body, the taste of their nectar on his tongue…

He called it love. Others would call him insane. He’d heard it all before – how no one would ever love him, given his profession, his awkwardness in carrying a conversation about anything normal other than how sharp his knives are, and how he uses them… that, and the fact that he never shows his face (“He must be hideous under there…” they would speculate). Nonetheless, he still craved the devotion of an obedient, warm body waiting for him in his cabin at the end of the day – once he did get a cabin. Why should he be denied what everyone else wants?

He knew he was a hypocrite; he couldn’t expect someone else to be so willing to leave everything and run away with him. Not with his insane ideations and obsessions – hell, not with who he was as a person. But if he killed enough healthy rabbits to keep her fed, and if he fucked her hard enough that her eyes rolled back into her head and she couldn’t muster enough strength to escape the mattress… would she ever care about what kind of man he was?

The warlock smiled slowly. “Of course… that’s what all of you sick bastards want.” He said, leaning back and folding his arms. “If it will seal our contract, I will give you whichever woman you choose. I’ll make her yours, and only yours, with unconditional love – even for your damned soul.”

A fair deal, König had thought. Which is exactly what had him currently trudging through the dense woods, searching for any traces of a witch – a sack with two loaves of bread and some apples hung over his shoulder, along with his well-worn tashka stuffed with the coin he had earned over time. His sword was strapped to his hip in its sheath, his dagger (a short sword, when it was compared to the average person) stuffed into the lead-lined, deerskin sheath on the side of his boot; and a pelt, heavy and thick, hung around his shoulders. All he had to his name.

König had done a day of research on you – testimonies and sightings of you ghosting the perimeter of the woods at an early age, hoping to lure some poor soul away as your very first victim. “I imagine she was a succubus in her previous life,” the warlock had spoken, “maybe too much of a whore for even the devil to handle.”

He had caught you one night by luring you to his cabin with the scent of a savory meal. Guessing by your inexperience, and the way you avoided using words as you snarled and thrashed in the warlock’s grip, he assumed you had not yet reached one hundred years old. You were still young and fresh-faced, appearing no more than twenty to human eyes. “After a few decent meals, and reintroducing her to the work of her past life – she’d settled in as the perfect student. It almost felt like having a pet.” He added with a smug smile.

König questioned how happy you were with being reintroduced to the work of your past, but he didn’t comment on it.

After living with the warlock as his student and whore for a few centuries, you turned into a strong, young witch. You didn’t care to go into town, preferring to stay at the cabin and watch over the brews whenever he had to make deliveries or run to the shops. The warlock had no complaints about your desire to stay holed up in his home – fewer people to ogle at you, fewer glimpses into a more civilized life that might tempt you to run away. He’d much rather you be a brooding, antisocial bitch, than watch one of his clients stare at you with a yellowed, lustful grin, like you were some harlot in the window of a brothel.

On one particular day, without any indication of what you were planning, he had returned home from his rounds to an empty cabin – not just empty of you, but of his potion stock, his rarest ingredients, and his most prized spellbooks. He’d run into the woods in fury, screeching your name and hurling threats into the trees around him – but you were gone. Not a trace of you could be found within a five mile radius of his home.

It was like you had never been there, save the absence of his personal belongings.

In König’s opinion, you didn’t strike him as an extremely dangerous individual. Sure, the warlock had harped on and on about how cunning and deceiving you were – but all you had done was lie to him. And from the way he had described the conditions you were under, König didn’t exactly blame you for running away. Maybe this job was a waste of his time…

Still, he couldn’t find it in him to complain, despite the nip of the mid-autumn air, and the fact that he was embarking on what might be one of the most treacherous endeavors of his career. He was getting a decent payout for it – that is, if he lived to finish the job. Additionally, the scenery was a comfort to his journey; wiry birch trees stood high and thickly clustered, their brown and black spots like ever-watchful eyes, staring at the gargantuan hunter as he moved. Their golden leaves mimicked the light of the sun, the real thing blocked out by the overcast skies. A whisper of wind flew by his ears, carrying down and blowing the leaves further along his path with a gentle sigh. As if nature herself was telling the world to be quiet, be still, and prepare for winter.

It was times like this where König became unsure of himself. What if he hated having someone else to care for? What if, deep down, he preferred the silence and the solitude? But then, the loneliness would strike him. The longing to be understood (if that was humanely possible), and the desire to have something warm, alive, and sentient to acknowledge him. It consumed him on those sleepless nights, perfectly warm by the hearth of whatever inn he resided at, yet so hollow without having someone to wrap his arms around.

A swaying movement in the branches above pulled him from his thoughts. Hanging down by a twine thread, tied to one of the spindling birch branches, was a tiny, burlap pouch. It reached a few feet above König’s head, and was drenched in a dark, thick liquid that dripped rhythmically onto the forest floor. Looking to where the drops landed, he noticed the matter on the ground was decaying – a steaming pile of rot was all that was left of the leaves that were once there.

He frowned. The trap was clever – for a witch in their first century. König had expected something a bit more dangerous for someone your age. Maybe the last hunter had been too gullible, and you stereotyped them to all be oafs. Or, maybe you were too old and couldn’t craft traps with the same skill and precision as your younger self.

He drew his dagger from his boot and quickly sliced the twine thread. The pouch dropped to the floor with a squelch, landing in the very puddle of death it had created. The liquid beneath it bubbled and hissed, and the bag soon dissolved to reveal its contents: bits of bone – a kind of reptilian foot, from the looks of it – dried pomegranate seeds, and a fuzzy layer of mold, all appearing to be drenched in some kind of blood.

He carefully stepped around the stinking mess, his eyes turning back onto the path to continue his hunt. He both hoped for and against finding more evidence of your existence. He wanted to get back to town as soon as he could, so he could hole himself up in an inn until his money began to run out – all the same, his mind craved a puzzle and a chase. Though, with how old you were, he doubted there would be much of a chase.

More leaking, swaying hex bags hung from branches as he trudged on, pointing him in the right direction. He didn’t bother to quiet the sound of the leaves beneath his footsteps – the rustling of the wind through the foliage was doing the job well enough. He held onto his dagger tightly, his other hand on his longsword, as he carefully toed through the dense forest. He had to be close – the smell of fennel and turmeric settled around his presence, along with the babbling of a nearby stream.

The sound of a distant tune danced through the trees. The voice was soft, yet clear, and whoever it belonged too was much too confident that they were alone in these woods. König wondered if it was actually you, and not some poor soul who had been foraging for the autumn mushrooms and berries – but he was nearly a day’s trek into the forest. No one would dare come out this far, unless they wanted to be alone. And, they were potentially hiding from something; their own past, perhaps.

He cautiously followed the sound of the tune, still disguising the sound of his own steps within the rustling leaves and wind. His heart thrummed with both uncertainty and excitement; he always did get too thrilled at the idea of a struggle and blood covering his hands. He took a deep breath in through his nostrils, focusing his attention on the voice that carried through the trees, pulling him closer and closer… He gripped his dagger tightly as he crept, reminding himself of the warlock’s warning: cunning, sneaky – be on your best wits.

The voice brought him to the edge of a clearing. The birch trees parted and encircled a few meters of earth, and a few bushes huddled along the far edge, dotted with purplish berries and thorned branches. A wicker basket, woven clumsily and rather lopsided, sat on the ground and caught each berry and branch that was tossed into it. A figure knelt in front of the bushes, carefully plucking the berries with thin, delicate fingers, stained purple from the juice of the berries, and nails that might need a trim soon, unless they were intended to be claws.

The cloaked figure confused König. The voice was too melodic, too clear and fresh for an old witch. He had assumed you weren’t much younger than the warlock, but still old. He remained a few yards away from you, shrouded by the trees and dense foliage outside of the clearing.

It was when you turned your head, dropping your handful of berries into the basket, revealing your face, that he realized how wrong he had been in his assumption.

Your skin was soft, he could tell even with the distance between the two of you. Your lips delicately moved as you sang your tune, your eyes sparkled in contrast to the dull autumn colors that surrounded you. Small wisps of your hair danced around your cheeks as the wind caressed it. Your entire body looked soft, warm, and pliable… exactly what he needed. Craved.

It wasn’t hard for him to imagine it: leaves tangling into your hair as he pressed his fingers around your neck, pushing you to the cold ground and watching as you gasped for air. He’d use his knife, but not to kill you. He’d drag it over your hardened nipples, watching them perk up even more at the prickling sensation, before he’d carve his name into your stomach. Smear your pretty blood all over your pretty face, watch as your eyes widen with horror, as you question how someone can be so deranged and cruel, how he can take so much pleasure in something so vile and horrible-

Or maybe, he could convince you that he just wants a fuck. You looked like you could use one – when was the last time you’d had someone’s lips on your breasts, or their cock in your cunt? It had certainly been too long for him… he couldn’t imagine how long you had gone without being thoroughly ravaged, living in these woods all alone. He could take care of that. He could be gentle, for a little while; holding your wrists above your head as he pushed you against a tree, whispering praise and encouragements into your ear, “… so gut, so Schön, genau so…” taking you from behind as your nipples perked up from the rough texture of the bark, listening to you whine and moan in that sweet voice of yours as he lets out months’ worth of pent up frustration by thrusting his cock into your warm pussy, over and over and over until you scream and tighten around his length, milking the cum right out of him as he fucks you deep, maybe sinking his teeth into the junction of your neck-

He growled quietly, palming his rapidly-growing erection as he tried to clear his head. Stay focused. Kill the witch, and then you’ll get what you want.

Remember the warlock’s promise.

Even if he didn’t need you to satisfy his needs, he could still make this interesting. Not like you could outrun him, anyway.

He stepped into the clearing, and as if by some ironic joke, the wind died down immediately. The crunch of his heavy boots was enough to make his presence known to any living thing within a mile radius.

Your singing stopped. You whipped your head in his direction, and immediately a look of fear fell upon your face. For a moment, the two of you were frozen in a staring contest. You reminded him of a doe, staring at the crossbow of the hunter you had noticed, wondering if this being was actually dangerous, or nothing you needed to worry about. He wondered what he must remind you of, and he wished to hear the panicking thoughts flitting through your mind.

Finally, you broke the trance – you gasped, stumbling backwards and awkwardly standing as you ripped a pathetic, little knife from your boot. You faced him and pointed the knife at him – you held it improperly, and if he truly wanted to make this messy, he could easily make you stab yourself in a struggle. He wondered what it would feel like when your nails dug into his rough skin, dragging marks down his forearms (or his back, if he played his cards right).

You pulled the thick cloak tighter around your body – you were tiny. Well, everything was tiny compared to König. But you were unexpectedly small. With the way the sorcerer had described you, he had expected you to reach his shoulders at least. But there you were, craning your neck to look up at him with fearful, owlish eyes.

“State your business!” You demanded, your voice cracking slightly.

König chuckled in response. You really were too pathetic for your own good, weren’t you? He took you in – your lips were pulled into a frown, parted slightly to reveal your perfect teeth, the way the fabric of your cloak quivered where it bunched in your fist… perfectly ordinary things that ordinary people do. But, besides the fact that you were a witch, something about you made it all so captivating.

“Hey!” you shouted, bringing his eyes back to your gaze. Your fear had given way to a judgmental ire. “Gods, have you ever seen a woman before?!”

König scoffed. “Woman? Yes, of course. I’ve seen witches, too. None as young as you, however.”

Your eyes widened in panic once again. You stretched your knife out towards him as he stalked over to where you stood. “S-stay back! I’ll kill you!”

Your meek threat didn’t slow him down. He continued his advance until he had corralled you against a tree, your one hand bracing against the trunk behind you, and the other holding the knife under his ribcage. The only thing between his flesh and your blade was his linen tunic, which wouldn’t do much to protect him should you decide to stab him – but were you capable of that? Your eyes were so filled with fear as they stared at him, your chin to the sky to take all of him in. Your fingers trembled around the handle of your knife as if the prospect of having to nick him made you uneasy.

“Not with magic?” he asked, his eyes flitting to the bush next to you. He plucked one of the berries between his thick, gloved fingers, rolling the onyx sphere between his thumb and middle finger before squashing it.

You pouted (a sight König could never grow tired of). “I’m not a wi-“

He snatched your forearm, and you yelped, dropping the knife to the forest floor. His fingers easily wrapped around you; he wondered how easy it would be to break it.

“Don’t lie, now.” He ordered, his eyes narrowing with a hint of annoyance. “You’re not good at it.”

He released your arms with a shove. You scrambled back with a fearful expression, swiping the blade from the ground. He watched with interest as you stood several yards away from him, pointing your weapon towards him once again.

“Fine.” You said, holding yourself a bit taller. “You’re right. What’s the crime in that?”

For a moment, König was lost. Why weren’t you trying to weaponize your magic? It was almost as if you had forgotten you weren’t a human. For someone who was supposed to be a cunning bitch, as the warlock had put it, you weren’t very smart.

“I’m not here for justice.” He replied, wiping his glove on his shirt. “Just doing my job.”

“Hunter?” you asked.

He extended his arms – gods, he could have crushed a pillar between those arms – as if presenting himself to you. “Was it not obvious?” he asked, and you could hear the smirk in his tone.

You huffed. “Well, you’re not a very good one. Most hunters don’t make conversation with their prey.”

Prey. He liked that you understood your position, that he was the one in charge here. Maybe you were a clever girl…

“I like to listen to the begging.”

“Begging?”

“For your life.” König folded his arms over his chest, inspecting you closely. The only thing you had to protect yourself was your cloak, and that hardly provided a shield against the wind. Even though you were obviously wary of him, it wasn’t wary enough. You had spoken too many words with the hunter, and had it been anyone else, you might have been dead long before now.

You seemed malleable – book-smart and spitfire, yet all too gullible. Easily manipulated. Just what he needed to brainwash you into loving him. Or, at least, being his pet. You’d never truly love him, he had come to learn that from experience. But maybe, if he could somehow convince you that you needed a big, scary man, who could protect you and fuck you nicely, it would be enough to make you stay. After all, you were too naïve to be alone out here, weren’t you?

Could the warlock perhaps make you his prize? It’d kill two birds with one stone, he could convince you to return whatever knickknacks you had stolen, and your presence would never bother anyone ever again – besides him, but of course, it would never be a bother to bed you every night.

Your expression turned sour. “I don’t beg.”

The tone of your voice sent a shiver down his cock. He’d have to pound that little attitude right out of you.

“Who hired you?” You asked indignantly. The knife in your hand had slowly lowered, now pointing at his feet. Your initial fear seemed to have worn off. Were you brave, or just that stupid?

“It doesn’t matter.” König replied.

“It does to me.”

“You don’t know? How many people have you wronged?”

You scoffed. “I haven’t wronged anyone. People just don’t like it when you call them out on their atrocities.”

König hummed. You had a point. “Your teacher – the warlock.”

For a moment, you scrunched your face in disgust. Teacher. Only a fool as mad as the warlock himself could consider he was any such figure in your life, other than a torturous one. Then, you sighed, shoulders slumping defeatedly, the knife now aimed straight at the forest floor. “That old toad can’t even kill me himself…” you muttered. “What payment did he offer you?”

“He promised me anything I desired of your possessions.” König replied, taking note of the change in your presence. He purposely left out the warlock’s promise to find him a “companion.”

“And what would you do with cursed fig seeds, or stag’s blood?” You asked, folding your arms over your chest (which, König noted, framed your breasts perfectly). “I have no gold – not enough to be a reward for the trouble of killing me.”

“He gave me three hundred gold coin, too.”

Your lips turned down into a scowl. “That’s all?! That absolute hypocrite!” You lodged your knife into the tree behind you and placed your hands on your hips. “I took everything from him, save that disgusting old shed he called home, and that’s all he’ll pay to kill me?!”

Your outburst pulled König from his obsessive staring. “You’re… insulted?”

You turned back to him and huffed. “Well, obviously.” You retorted. “I stole all he had to his name, and he treats me like a fly buzzing in his ear. I deserve a bit more recognition than three hundred gold coin.”

“You admit to it, then.” König said, stepping closer. You appeared to be too angry to notice how near the hunter was to you. “You are a thief.”

You laughed – a sound that König did not expect to be so sweet. “I’ve done much worse than thieving, mind you.” You shook your head. “And he’s done even worse to me.” You sighed, pulling the dagger from the tree trunk and sheathing it back into your boot.

Once again, he was reminded of how small you were. Why weren’t you afraid of him? Sure, you had the advantage of magic while he did not, but you weren’t even acting defensively anymore. You treated him like a traveler who had stumbled across your path, starting up conversation and sharing your story.

“What has he done?” he asked, his interest in you growing by the second. An outcast, despised, hated by others. He felt that the two of you were kindred spirits, and he would not risk losing a connection so rare – one he had never felt.

“You mean he didn’t even tell you?” you said, sounding more hurt than anything else.

“He did.” König sheathed his own dagger as a peace offering. “But I’m coming to think he was not entirely truthful.”

You sighed, looking down at your basket, then back at König. “I suppose I could tell you, since he brought you all this way to kill me. Walk with me – but keep your dagger away. And if you try anything, I’ll slit your throat. Understood?”

He suppressed the urge to laugh. Could you even reach his throat? “The warlock said you would lure me away to your hut, and carve out my heart.”

You huffed disappointedly, walking back to the bush near König. Completely calm, like he had only ever come up to you with the intention of finding a friend. “And yet, he’s still alive, after all the chances I had to kill him. We can stay outside of my hut, if it eases your mind. I’ll let you make your own tea, too. But if you aren’t set on killing me right this minute, I really should return to start drying these out.” You held up your basket. “Before too much time passes, and I can no longer use them.”

König had never given his prey more than a few moments to try and beg their way out of his crushing hands. He couldn’t believe he had even given so much lenience to your baseless trust in him – what he should have done was take the opportunity to grab your face and snap your neck. But he was starting to doubt the warlock’s testimony; you were a thief, yes, but had you really committed any crime? Or were you simply just taking the revenge you deserved from your captor – or, as the warlock called himself, your master?

König sighed. He gestured his hand out, signaling for you to lead the way.

You frowned. “First, give me your word.” You demanded.

“I will not harm you.” He said, with a hand over his heart. He didn’t care about forcing you to make the same promise – you were harmless enough. He did, however, make sure to avoid saying that he wouldn’t touch you. Although he was developing a few ounces more of respect for you, who knows? Maybe you would find a reason to drag him into your hut and satisfy both of your needs – and, if he was lucky enough to get that far, maybe you’d offer for him to spend the night in a warm bed, and he could be saved from sleeping on the cold earth for one night.

His word seemed promising enough to you. Threading your arm through the handle of the basket, you began marching through the woods, watching the ground carefully as you stepped over roots and twigs.

König followed by your side, watching you from the corner of his eye. You really were helpless – all it would take is a strong push from him, and you’d be tumbling down, maybe hitting your head on a stone, or rolling down the mountainside until your neck snapped. Even if the fall didn’t kill you, he could easily land one hit to your chest and pierce your lungs with your own ribs. But here you were, worrying more about the uneven forest floor than the lumbering creature by your side.

“What did he tell you?” you asked, pulling him from his fantasies. “About the beginning, when he took me.”

König laughed in pity. “He made it sound like he caught you, not that he took you.”

You sighed. “He didn’t catch me… well, I suppose he did. More like how animals are caught.” You adjusted your grip on the basket, still watching the ground beneath you. “I was the botanist’s assistant before he came along. Stared at me like I was naked. He would come more often than he needed to - asked me where I was from, who my father was – things I didn’t understand why he needed to know. I still don’t.”

König didn’t understand himself. He continued to listen, the sounds of his footsteps drowning out your quiet ones. He began to wonder just how much of the warlock’s testimony was true.

“He came to the shop one night.” You continued to recount the story. “I was lighting the lanterns in the greenhouse. It was storming, and I didn’t hear him. He bludgeoned me and dragged me into the streets like I was some sort of animal.” You paused, turning your own words over in your head. “I suppose I was, to him.

He brought me back to his cabin – that’s when he started the curse. All I remember when waking up is feeling sick. I tried to stand, but it- everything felt heavy, like I was stuck in mud. I managed to crawl outside, and he was there. Saying my father wouldn’t recognize me, that he had killed the old lady at the botanist, that everyone would think that I had killed her… that I would be burned if I returned to the village. That I would forever be an outcast as long as I lived – as a witch. As what he made me.”

You paused again, for longer this time. König looked down at you, observing how your face twisted in… disgust? Anger? Your eyes were somewhere else, possibly somewhere where you could light the world on fire, drain the life from everyone who had ever done you wrong. König had felt that same hatred before, and he had learned to let it pass. You were still stuck there, wishing you could drive a blade into the warlock’s neck – and more.

“You stayed, then?” König asked, returning his gaze to the trees before him. “Why?”

You scoffed. “It’s not like I could go anywhere, not during the change. For the first fortnight, I couldn’t do anything but crawl on the ground and wail. And he let me – I’d get to the edge of the woods, and he’d be there to drag me back. Drug me into the hut at night and held me, fucked me, saying he was protecting me and similar bullshit. Of course, he was right; at that moment, I was as good as dead if I had ventured out on my own. And once I’d gotten my strength back, I was still a new witch. I’d never be accepted into the village – witches never are, despite the warlocks being the vile ones – and I had no idea how to live as one. So I relied on him for a while, until I knew enough to make it out on my own.”

König hummed in thought. Despite the initial desire to snatch you himself and have his way with you, his fists clenched at the thought of you being dragged around by the warlock. This life wasn’t one you had chosen, and yet the very person who had forced it upon you was killing you for it. It made something within him boil, something deep and buried, that he had thought had been tucked away for good.

You didn’t deserve any of this. He was fighting with himself in that moment, but the desire to show you what you should have been given was consuming him. He wanted to tell you that he knew what it was to be an outcast, he knew what it was like to feel lonely and crave being alone at the same time. To wish that you had the power to hurt anyone you deemed deserving of it, yet to have that someone who would never hurt you.

He would do it. He would be that person for you, he would be the one to kill for you. He knew he was getting ahead of himself – after all, he was hired to kill, you, not fall for you. And he knew it was just another one of his delusional fantasies… but he couldn’t help himself. You were like him, which was something that he had not yet been able to find. Something primal in him told him to sink his teeth in, to hold onto you until you stopped your struggling and realized that this would be good, for the both of you.

He was insane. But did it matter what he was, as long as he could give you what you needed?

“So, yes-“ you continued, bringing König out from the depths of his thoughts. “- I stole from him. Took the books he used to teach me, maybe a few ingredients for potions, a few seeds to start my own garden… but compared to what he took from me, I might as well have taken a loaf of bread.”

You stopped suddenly, and König came to a halt beside you. You nodded your head to the scene before you. “It’s not much, but it’s home.”

König looked ahead: the trees parted into another clearing, larger this time. A rickety hut leaned against a wall of rock, made of thin, birch logs and mud slathered on top to keep out the wind. In the center of the clearing was a large stone, positioned near a pile of ash and rocks. A log lay near it, possibly another place for someone to sit. A small garden sat closer to the creek before your hut – it didn’t look to be doing very well, but that was expected as winter approached.

By the creek, there was a large, twisted oak. Its roots hung directly off of the bank and down into the water. Its leaves had fallen to the earth and mingled with the rest of the foliage by now – the entire thing had crimson paths winding around it, hauntingly similar to blood-filled veins. Several pieces of clothing and fabric hung from the branches and swayed in the autumn wind.

As you marched ahead, placing your basket down by the makeshift firepit and disappearing into the hut, König took a few, cautious steps forward. He was both charmed by the simplicity of it, and despondent that you were forced into this lonesome sort of life. He wanted to drag you from this measly hovel and show you something better.

But how? He was no better off than you were. All his earnings were spent on a room at the nearest tavern and a decent amount of ale to help him fall asleep. He never cared about having a home, as long as he had a place to keep out the cold. He didn’t think it would be good enough to drag you back to the village and convince you to spend the night with him in a thin-walled, noisy inn… but, even if he didn’t end up killing you today (something that seemed more and more likely with each passing second), he refused to leave you in this hell. If it was a cozy cabin, built so far away from civilization for the sole purpose of privacy and comfort, he could understand. Maybe even plead his case to you so you would let him stay. But this – this was a last resort. A broken down spot in the woods that you made for your banishment, for hiding. This wouldn’t do.

Call him insane. Call him crazy, hopeless, sick in the head… maybe his desires were founded on the thought that he would give you what he had never received.

You emerged from your hut, the thin, wooden door clanging shut behind you. You looked at him with a puzzled expression. Why was he still standing at the edge? You wrapped your cloak tighter around yourself and made your way over to him, your hair blowing across your face.

He watched as you stopped in front of him, your brow creased with question. Your head tilted back to look up at him, yet any traces of fear that you had shown earlier were gone. You looked at him like you’d known him for the past hundred years. It made his heart ache within his chest.

How could anyone have painted such a wretched picture of the woman who stood before him?

“Is everything alright?” you asked, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Like I said before, if you’d rather we stay outside-“

König interrupted you, reaching down and grabbing the sides of your arms firmly. You sucked in a breath warily, but you were still not afraid of him.

“I- you-“ Scheisse, what is he trying to say? He wanted to take you away, he wanted to show you how similar the both of you were to each other, he wanted to show you what (he thought) love was – slow, gentle, possessive, and strong. He wanted to keep you in his pocket, both to keep you safe from the world, and to make sure you couldn’t be taken from him. He wanted you, you, you –

This is insanity. He knew it. But that didn’t stop the fire in his chest, and the questionable throbbing in his trousers.

You knew. Your eyes said everything as they softened, as your lips pressed together into a knowing, sad smile. Were you going to turn him down? Would you say that you preferred it this way, that you liked being alone and living like a prisoner on the run? You took his face in his hands, and he had a foreboding sense in his gut that you might tell him to leave.

Quickly but gently, he cupped one hand at the back of your neck and pulled himself down to you, pressing his lips to yours before you could speak. It was only right, he thought, as he held the kiss – you didn’t understand that he could help you, he could build the life you deserved and keep you safe from any other hunters and warlocks. He placed his other hand on your lower back and pulled you in, moving his lips against your own and praying you wouldn’t deny him.

Like an angel answering his prayers, you tilted your head and wrapped your arms around his neck, standing on your toes and kissing him back. He tugged his teeth at your bottom lip, and you so graciously allowed his tongue to slip past your teeth, letting him taste you. He whined, flooded with relief that you didn’t try to shove him away and call him deranged.

His cock was quickly growing hard, but he ignored it. Right now, he needed to figure out exactly what he needed to say to make you-

A raven’s call tore through the air, piercing his thoughts. It was much too close than any bird would naturally be.

He tried to turn his head in its direction, but you dug your fingers into his hair, making him stutter and freeze on the spot. He grabbed your hips, about to pry you away-

You pressed your lips firmly to his, and he heard you faintly muttering incoherent words against him. The world around him was suddenly showered with colors: purples like the berries that had stained your fingers, oranges like the leaves that were scattered across the ground, silvers like the thick clouds that blanketed across the sky… The black spots on the birch trees suddenly blinked and flitted across his vision; thousands of them stared at him, and he heard your sweet laughter echoing in the distance as the world spun, spun, spun…

He felt the cold earth press to his cheek, and the last thing he remembered was a sickening ache in his stomach.

He should have heeded the sorcerer’s warning.

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

"… so gut, so Schön, genau so…”

... so good, so beautiful, just like that...

#konig #konig x reader #konig x you #konig x yn #konig cod #konig fanfiction #fantasy au konig #cod fantasy au #cod x reader #konig x reader smut #konig smut #konig nsfu

444 notes · View notes

alexawynters · 2 months

Text

Mommy Knows Best - w.m x r blurb

Summary: Wanda convincing R to let her to all the thinking for her

Warnings: Ehhh... allusions to manipulation, kidnapping, stalking.

A/N: So ahhh... I wrote this in 15 minutes while at work in a part of the office I very much didn't want to be in. This isn't connected to anything. I don't intend on expanding this bc I have no spoons and the plot bunnies won't settle on anything definitively. But if anybody wants to take a crack at it, pleeeeaaase do! Just like.. link me so I can read it because I am thirsty. Also all of this was typed up on my phone so sorry for any typos, or formatting issues. I left my laptop at home today like a dumbass..

Wanda's hand cradled your face with a gentle yet possessive grip. "I knew that you needed me the moment I laid eyes on you in that coffee shop."

Your eyes widened at the older woman's confession. Out of all the times you had met up with Wanda, it had never been at a coffee shop. Her implication that she had been watching you sent a bolt of fear down your spine.

"Such a sweet little thing, so easily flustered." She appraised you with a keen eye, searching for any hint that you might try to run. "You were just trying to substitute the milk in your coffee order, yet you couldn't even do that without nearly breaking out into tears. Poor thing. You just needed your Mommy to do all your difficult thinking for you, huh?"

The older woman's voice had taken on an almost saccharine quality, while simultaneously dripping with condescension. You couldn't have explained it if you tried, but something about her tone, her words, turned your head all fuzzy.

Alarm bells that should have been clanging loudly were but a distant detail in your peripheral, not worthy of your attention when the alternative was listening to Wanda's honeyed voice. You should be concerned. A normal person would be leaving this crazy woman as fast as their legs could carry them. Yet instead, you practically meted into Wanda's touch, almost craving it.

The witch gave a subtle smirk at the way your eyes glossed over when she talked down to you. This was going to be even easier than Wanda had thought. She might not even need to use her magic if you were already this responsive to her. Frankly, Wanda was delighted.

"Use your words, kotenok. I know you're just a dumb baby, and words are hard, but when Mommy asks you a question, I expect an answer."

Her grip turned firm, border lining on painful. Glassy eyes snapped open.

"Y-yes, Mommy. I just needed you to do all the thinking for me."

Your face flushed bright red as you spoke the words, but you couldn't bring yourself to take them back. Now that they had been released into the universe, the words rang true for you. They simply felt... right. Your trusting gaze met Wanda's domineering one, seeking any sign of her approval.

The older woman gave a salacious grin, very much reminiscent of a cat who caught the canary. "There's my good girl," she cooed, caressing the apple of your cheek with her thumb.

Lulled into a false sense of safety and security, you tilted your head. Leaning into her touch, you were practically simpering from her praise and touch. Why had you ever been concerned, you wondered? This was Wanda. She would always take care of you. She would never even dream of harming you. If only you knew the extent of the very real danger you were in, you might have tried to run. Not that you would have gotten far, but Wanda might have enjoyed the thrill of the chase.

Nevertheless, she had you right where she wanted you and why make it unpleasant when you were so... willing? The witch reveled in how pliant you were. Like putty in her hands, ready to be shaped and molded into the perfect plaything for her.

"Now kotenok," she said softly. "Why don't you go get changed into something comfortable and we can watch movies? I took the liberty of bringing over some of your clothes from your apartment as you won't be staying there anymore."

The former Avenger patted your cheek gently, sending you off on your way. It was only a few feet you had made before hesitating, turning to look at the older woman.

"Mommy...." You tried the title, and it rolled off your tongue surprisingly easily. "Why. won't I be staying at my apartment anymore? I'm still paying rent on it for another seven months." Uncertainty rolled off of you in waves.

Wanda bit the inside of her cheek, reigning her temper in. She needed to be understanding, but firm with you if she planned to get you completely under her thumb without scaring you off.

"You let Mommy worry about all of that. Those are big girl thoughts, and you wanted Mommy to do all the thinking for you, isn't that right?" Her voice was filled with exaggerated patience and condescension.

Part of you wanted to push the question. If you weren't going to be staying at your flat anymore then Wanda must mean for you to stay with her. Unfortunately, you couldn't afford rent in both places, so if you needed to sublet your flat, the sooner you knew for sure, the better. Not once did you question how, when, or why the redhead had picked up your clothes, being so focused about this rent situation.

Still, as you caught Wanda's steadily hardening gaze due to your lack of immediate cooperation, you could have sworn you almost saw a subtle flash of scarlet in her eyes. Opting not to upset the woman you were quickly falling for, you promptly turned on your heel, intent on doing as she had asked.

Unbeknownst to you, Wanda Maximoff was observing your trailing form with a razor-sharp gaze. She felt triumphant, everything was going according to plan, and you were honestly making it too easy on her. Soon you would belong to her, and by the time you realized, it would be too late.

A/N 2: What are we thinking? Bin it? Try to write it from the beginning? Or maybe keep going and only have the beginning appear in flashback format? I know I need to update Scarlet Whispers and I'm gonna, I swear! Just... effort. lol

#Wanda maximoff x reader #dark!wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x f!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #dark wanda x reader #yandere!Wanda #yandere wanda maximoff #wanda x y/n #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader

449 notes · View notes

endless-ineffabilities · 10 months

Text

sapphire-hearted (part three)

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

After his proposal, the reader and Aemond have a heated confrontation in the gardens.

themes/warnings: jealous!possessive!Aemond (no surprise that I have to write this for every part of this story... I mean...), angst, language

part one - part two - masterlist

"Will you choose me?"

That managed to stop you in your tracks. Will you choose him? As if you had not chosen him over and over, at every turn, every proposal - only for him to choose to lie with another woman in the end.

And what is worse, he does not seem to find his actions wrong, only defending them. For the good of the realm, he says.

But what if he is sincere about marrying you? Will it only be you, for all time, war be damned? Knowing Aemond, it will not be that simple.

You feel caught in a snare, helpless, for but a second. Weighing your options in your mind.

Yes. Perhaps. No. Fuck you, and your witch.

Your mind finally settles, and you turn to face him, your face cold and unreadable. "That has to be the most selfish thing you have ever said to me."

Aemond appears stunned, unmoving, as he watches you stride towards him.

“Selfish? My desire to be wed to you is a selfish thing?” he asks.

You approach him quickly, breathing heavy as words spill out of your mouth. “I know you, Aemond. Tell me this. Why do you wish to marry me now, after all this time? Why did you not do it fucking seven, eight moons ago? You only want this now because you know that I am serious about getting married to someone else. And what of the unspoken understanding between us that we could never do so because you are a Targaryen, oh great one, and I come from a lowly House of cattle-tending farmers?” You sound venomous, unrestrained, but you do not much care.

Aemond matches you in your ferocity, when he says, “Is that truly what you think? That I would marry you for some foolish reason? That I would do so on a whim? It is true that my family, the council, and perhaps the smallfolk will frown upon our union, but you know what?” He grips your elbow, and you can feel his ragged breathing fanning your face as he drags you closer. “I don’t care anymore. I have always wanted this, and I should get what I want. After everything I have done, all that I have sacrificed for this war, I deserve to marry for love.”

“No, you - ”

“Listen to me, my love,” he leans in, close enough to capture your lips in his if he wishes to. “I’d rather burn everything to the ground, rather than watch you wed another fucking man. I thought you were already well aware of this?”

His lips brush against your ear, sending shivers down your spine, and he whispers, “Do not underestimate my love for you. You’re mine, do you hear? Perhaps you will try to be with someone else, with that Ramsay. But know that it will not end well for him.”

You understand that he is not speaking lightly. That he will make do on his threat if need be. Dangerous, intense, cunning. This was the Aemond you fell in love with, so why should you be taken aback at his words? You crave all of this, all that he truly is.

But you had also thought that all of this, all of him, was only yours.

“No,” you breathe.

“What?”

“My answer is no,” you repeat. “I cannot marry you. Not like this.”

“Because of him?” Aemond accuses.

“Not exactly,” you meet his eye and find a storm of emotion resting there. “You know that I would marry you in a heartbeat.” You remember when he said the same, but it does not sit right with you that he could only have said that out of desperation. Just as he is asking for your hand now, in the heat of the moment.

“Then we shall have it done. On the morrow, if that is what you wish, my love - ”

“But we cannot marry when I do not trust you. When I cannot be certain that you will not go scurrying back to bed with Alys each time you require her visions or her spells.”

Aemond implores, “But it should all end soon. The war… we shall be sure to prevail against our enemies. And then I will have no further use for her. We can have her banished or mutilated for all I care.”

Typical of Aemond to be so thick-headed, and to stick to his ambition. So will he lie with Alys a few more times, breaking your heart, after he has just professed to love and marry you? “I cannot have that.”

“Do you not understand - ”

“I understand perfectly,” you almost hiss at him in your exasperation. “If you wish to wed me, then you cannot have anyone else. By the gods, you should not even remotely desire to be with anyone else, for any reason. Whether it be for the fucking realm, I do not care.”

You pry yourself away from his hold, every step walking back from him giving you room to just breathe. “The very thought of you with her, the truth of it happening, sickens me to my core.”

Laughing menacingly, you add, “Just as the thought of myself with Ramsay angers you so. Tell me, my love - what would you do if I were to ride him, as Alys does you?”

Aemond glares daggers at you, his jaw clenching so hard in his rage.

He seethes, “You would never get the chance. I will bury him long before then.”

“I’ve had enough of this,” you raise your hands in surrender. “I’ll be seeing you.”

“You do not get to simply leave - ” He starts to say, but he is interrupted by someone else rounding the corner.

“Brother,” Aegon greets, an ornate cup of wine held loosely in one hand. Several members of his Kingsguard shadow him, a few paces away. “How come you get to escape our council meetings out here, whilst I waste away with those droll sycophants?”

“Aegon,” Aemond greets, his voice giving away irritation at his brother’s intrusion. “I had no standing affairs today, and I am occupied with something else.”

“Someone else, you mean to say,” Aegon raises his eyebrows at you suggestively. “Nice to see you again, my lady.”

“Your Grace,” you curtsy. “I shall take my leave, so that you might speak to Aemond in private.”

Aegon responds lightly. “Stay, if you please. I do have something to ask you as well. And what is with the ‘Your Grace’? It is just Aegon to you, as always.”

“Of course, Your G-” you catch yourself, smiling now. “I mean, Aegon.” Aemond’s siblings have been more than civil towards you, and if everything else were simpler, then you might even call them your friends.

Now and then, Aegon would make a comment about your status in poor taste, though he means well. One of them being, “What a shame you cannot be made my good-sister through Aemond. The family would surely wed the pair of you, if only you had been a Lady Baratheon, or gods, even a Lannister, though I find the lot of them unbearable. What a shame.”

“So,” Aegon excitedly clasps his hands together, preparing to share some piece of news. “I’ll be holding a small gathering on the morrow. A supper of sorts. Only a few chosen people. Our inner circle, which includes you, my lady.” He wags his finger at you, playfully.

“A feast? Won’t it be improper, Aegon?” Aemond asks, with a tired sigh, already used to his brother’s proclivities.

“Not a feast, dear brother. A small, subdued supper.” Aegon looks to you for support, and you shrug in agreement. He takes a step closer, whispering to you in secret, “It is a feast, actually.” You have to bite back a laugh at his absurdity. It’s somewhat hard to believe that Aegon is the face of the Greens - their cause, their reason to wage this brutal war. Was he not just a young boy who did not choose any of this? A neglected son who was forced to abandon his dream of escape? A crown of thorns thrust upon him in spite of his resistance?

“Aegon - ” Aemonds warns, wary of his brother’s proximity to you. What in the seven hells could he be saying?

“Aemond,” Aegon sings in response, unfazed. “I’ve said my piece. My lady, I shall have my guards escort you when it’s time.”

“Alright,” you say, aware of Aemond’s watchful stare on you. In a split decision, or mayhaps a calculated move, you find yourself requesting, “do you mind terribly if I take Lord Ramsay Beesbury as my companion?”

“Oh, him?” Aegon looks to his brother, weighing his reaction, and immediately growing amused at the fury that he sees. “Well, you may take whomever you please, my lady.”

“She may not,” Aemond quickly counters.

Aegon merely grins, “It’s my party, brother.”

“I don’t fucking care.”

“I am your King,” Aegon states. “My word is final.”

"You could be the Smith himself, and I still would not care. She will not be taking him." Aemond says firmly. Only he can talk back to Aegon in such a way, and he surely takes advantage of this when he can.

They lock eyes, until Aegon bursts in a fit of unbridled laughter, his wine sloshing out of his cup.

"Gods be fucking good," Aegon wheezes. "You can hardly control yourself, dear brother." Winking at you, he says, "I suppose there is a damn good reason why they call us Greens. Aemond here is practically greener than Vhagar's slimy old scales with envy."

"Seven hells." Aemond curses in exasperation. Still, after all that, he throws you a look of warning.

You only smile sweetly in return, your mind already made up.

Satisfied with the outcome of this exchange, you nod to both of them, "I shall take my leave, Aegon. Aemond. But we shall see you on the morrow. Thank you for the invitation."

Aemond bristles at your emphasis on we.

Yet he cannot help but watch in adoration as you walk away, your skirts billowing lightly in the wind. His woman.

That Ramsay will not be able to anticipate what's coming for him.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading all of your comments from the previous parts!! Glad we are all on the same page - Aemond should suffer 🤷🏻‍♀️ (or at least, grovel and prove himself, for the next few chapters.)

taglist: @immyowndefender @bellameshipper @aemondswifeisme @bash1018 @fuck-the-reaper @shessthunderstoms @aemondsbabygirl @melsunshine @youtoldalie @snh96 @noxytopy @ellooo0ooo @brianochka @not-a-glad-gladiator @mac95650 @whitejuliana1204 @midnightmystic @saminalloxo @oh-no-tia @magnificentsapphiresoul @clara-geekhime @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @ananas26t @iloveallmyboys @carriellie @summerposie @verycollectivecreator @toodlesxcuddles @brie-annwyl @dc-marvel-girl96 @bellstwd @bibli0thecary @happinessinthebeing @magnificentsapphiresoul

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfiction #house of the dragon #asoiaf

1K notes · View notes

sanjoongie · 3 months

Text

𝔽𝕖𝕓𝕣𝕦𝕒𝕣𝕪 𝔽𝕚𝕝𝕥𝕙 𝔽𝕖𝕤𝕥 𝟚𝟜

🥀These prompts are hosted by @thelargefrye and myself, masterlist can be seen here

🥀The following is a month full of Ateez smut. Minors, please do not interact. Various tropes and aus will be utilized as I see fit. This is both a challenge and treat for me as a writing, so I hope you can enjoy it with me!

🥀divider made by @cafekitsune on masterlist and all subsequent posts

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

🥀Day One: Deepthroating- Wooyoung

🥀Summary: when yunho leaves wooyoung to work on assembling the ship himself, you're left to relieve the stress wooyoung has built up

🥀Day Two: Cheating / Creampie- Jongho

🥀Summary: in which you're assigned the alias as Jongho's wife and he takes that pretty fucking seriously

🥀Day Three: Mirror Sex- Hongjoong

🥀Summary: When you chant Bloody Mary in the mirror to get a glimpse of your future husband, you see the Grim Reaper instead, but those aren't mutually exclusive

🥀Day Four: Public Sex- San

🥀Summary: When San comes to you, the local wise woman (read rumored witch), to get a bullet wound dressed, he's also looking to convince you to let him under your skirts, and your heart

🥀Day Five: Dacryphilia- Yunho

🥀Summary: you guide your golden retriever hybrid boyfriend through his first time and you discover you have an affinity for his pretty face when he cries

🥀Day Six: Auralism / Sensory Deprivation - Mingi

🥀Summary: one the full moon, you play a game of Find and Fuck, where you hunt down Mingi with only the sound of his noises as he masturbates

🥀Day Seven: Voyeurism- Seonghwa

🥀Summary: Seonghwa, in pursuit of knowing your body better for breeding techniques, asks if you could show him how you pleasure yourself. The alien soon learns he likes watching you, like all the aliens do

🥀Day Eight: Experimental / Nipple Play- Yeosang

🥀Summary: after an unfortunate accident with your shears, you visit the doctor, only to be surprised by his magic. fate throws you into a blind date with the doctor and then your curiosity gets the better of you when the blind date develops.

🥀Day Nine: Praise / Long Distance Sex- Yunho

🥀Summary: when Yunho calls you one day, drunk and missing you, you let him guide you through some stress releasing phone sex

🥀Day Ten: Hate Fucking - Yeosang

🥀Summary: when you claim that Yeosang was a man of no emotions and Yeosang demanded you prove yourself right, a passionate and hot sex session follows

🥀Day Eleven: Somnophilia- Mingi

🥀Summary: you make an agreement with your incubus friend that he can feed on you, if only while you’re sleeping

🥀Day Twelve: Mommy Kink - Wooyoung

🥀Summary: wooyoung is just a loser guy in the 2000’s and you’re the hot 2000’s girl that’s considering letting him go down on you… at a cost, of course

🥀Day Thirteen: Uniform - Seonghwa

🥀Summary: When your first mate successfully enacts a mutiny, you’re left with one simple task… to be his cum bucket

🥀Day Fourteen: Threesome / Ritual - San/ Hongjoong

🥀Summary: when San and Hongjoong decide to join your valentine’s day ritual, you get the surprise of a lifetime: a threesome!

🥀Day Fifteen: Femdom / Degradation - Jongho

🥀Summary: as the advisor to a strong lord, and the true power behind the powerful man, you often put Jongho in his place. He adores it, including summoning a certain knight to help, among other degrading acts

🥀Day Sixteen: Cockwarming - Mingi

🥀Summary: when you crave some time with one of your busy boyfriends, the compromise turns out to be everything you need with an unexpected surprise

🥀Day Seventeen: Body Worship - San

🥀Summary: San shows that you deserve to be spoiled like the queen you are, and why exactly he was the one chosen to be your first consort

🥀Day Eighteen: Size Kink - Jongho

🥀Summary: When a particular mission causes you to almost tip over the edge from hero to villain, Jongho is the soothing balm to take your stress away

🥀Day Nineteen: Masturbation / Edging - Yunho

🥀Summary: Yunho decides the best way to stop you from beating him in a race to create the best app in a technology contest is to distract you... with his body

🥀Day Twenty: Soft Dom-Sub / Roleplay - Wooyoung

🥀Summary: when you decide the healthy outlet to a rumored lifestyle with your younger lover is in fact to play out a scenario of a woman cheating on her husband with the pool boy

🥀Day Twenty-One: Aphrodisiacs / Overstim - Hongjoong

🥀Summary: Hongjoong accidentally scratches you with his poisonous tail, and the results because of your mating and Seonghwa’s genetically-spiced saliva, are pleasurable for the both of you

🥀Day Twenty-Two: Double Penetration - Seonghwa/Yeosang

🥀Summary: Yeosang is in love with his best friend AND his best friend’s girlfriend. What he doesn’t know is you have a grand Master plan to bring you all together

🥀Day Twenty-Three: Breeding Kink - Wooyoung

🥀Summary: when you took Wooyoung in as a stray hybrid, you didn’t think about triggering his rut

🥀Day Twenty-Four: Pegging / Feminization - Mingi

🥀Summary: Mingi got all dressed up for you to fuck him with your strap-on

🥀Day Twenty-Five: Free Use / Spit Play - San/Seonghwa

🥀Summary: a new club is opened in the Choi’s territory, your newly required husbands, in your honor and you arrive with Seonghwa and San in order to christen it properly

🥀Day Twenty-Six: Tentacle sex - Yunho

🥀Summary: an incubus thinks you’re a tasty witch snack as a widow, and it’s about to turn your day around

🥀Day Twenty-Seven: Cuckolding - Yeosang/Jongho

🥀Summary: not every couple purchases an android just for the purpose of cuckolding your husband, but it was well worth it’s weight in crypto credits

🥀Day Twenty-Eight: Predator-Prey / Strength Kink - Hongjoong

🥀Summary: when you and your gaming friend learn about a glitch in one of your favorite games, you exploit it on an erotic level

🥀Day Twenty-Nine: Gangbang - ot8

🥀Summary: as the office pet, your duties after hours are completely different

#joongfryefff24 #topaz's work #ღatz #ateez smut #kim hongjoong smut #park seonghwa smut #jeong yunho smut #kang yeosang smut #choi san smut #song mingi smut #jung wooyoung smut #choi jongho smut

426 notes · View notes

ancientgoddessofegypt · 3 months

Text

THE POWER OF VENUS: SENSUAL AURA; HOW MUCH POWER DOES YOUR BEAUTY CONTAIN?

For Venus Day I wanted to do something special. My favorite girlies are the choices for this reading. Pick which one resonates with you the most, and take a look at each pile ! Have fun!

PILE 1 - AALIYAH - 'The Loveable Child, Aura As Magical As The Clouds.'

You're aura has a mystical charm. Deep inside the inner self is a magical energy that puts people in awe. Your gentleness captivates people and your ability to see the beauty in all that is around you is what makes you much more magical. Your sensual energy is capable of proving a point, being a star is your mission if you have this placement. Because your divine essence is what attracts others to you and others are willing to help you in your mission, desires, dreams, goals, etc.

Message: Be quiet. Not everyone needs to know your mind. Be yourself but be quiet about the things you know. Take it easy, not everyone can be as high in the clouds as you. Heaven's Child.

Numbers & Colors : 333, 555, 777, 111, Pink, Yellow, Green Lavender

Animals : Skunks & Deers (Bambi)

Themes : Loveable, Kind, Sweetness, Adorable

PILE 2 - SELENA - 'A Dream Come True'

Whew. This one is magnetic and its BIG. Big in a way that you can feel it however you're not sure what it is. Your sensual grace forms a lesion of people to honor you no matter how you look. Your charm is essential to awakening the divine feminine in you and others. You have gifts in singing if you've pick this one, as your singing qualities is like a bee being attracted to honey, its calming, tasteful and filled with valuable energy.

Message: You are captivating, never allow jealous or envious beings bring you back to a place that kept you in depression. Leave now. Don't allow them to sink this ship, God sent you to them to heal.

Numbers & Colors : Rainbow , Green, Blue, Orange,

Animals : Gazelles, Lions, Cheetahs, Hamsters & Guinea Pigs

Themes: Bravery, Resilience, Determination, Power

PILE 3 - SALMA HAYEK - 'Witch; Powerful and Formidable Aura'

A Goddess. It is she who walks the darkest roads that comes out on top and flows like no other. Your charm and power holds so much weight. People stop and stare at you from a far. In a daze, no man or woman can stop looking at your psychique and the power you hold can make anyone be hypnotized by your spark. You have a gift in setting the room on fire, holding up the magic in the room and making it fold to your bidding. Powerful qualities in sensual abilities and manifestation abilities are stronger with this group. You have the gift of getting your desires through the power of your charm and ability to be seen in your raw nakedness, take that as you will.

Your flow intimidates people, but your charm is what keeps them running back ;)

Message: Know when to be seen or be heard. Appreciate the joy in being a 'bitch'. Allowing others in just because you said so. Boundaries are not a kept secret, tell them off. Let them know it.

Numbers & Colors : Pink, Red, Magenta & Purple, 1111, 222, 333, 444, 555, 666, 111

Animals : Serpents & Octopus

Themes: Being who you are, Lilith, Oceans are connected to this group.

PILE 4 - BEYONCE - 'Look at me now'

This group is undergoing a big transformation! If not now it's on the way. No enemy shall prosper with this group. Now back to the reading, you guys have an immense power that is connected to a faerie like charm. Very pretty and magical. If you picked this group you may have a venusian energy that connects to a Goddess (this is for you to go within and seek). A high priestess energy from this group and a aura that is valuable no man and woman shouldn't dare come to you without a gift or even an honorable mention. Do what you will with that.

Message: Learn to appreciate the world as is, its just a minor reflection of whats inside of you. Speak highly to others as well as yourself. Be kind to you and to others and watch mountains open for you.

Numbers & Colors: Yellow & Pink, 3333, 444, 888, 1111

Themes: Goddess, Queenlike, Ochun, Pyramids, The world revolves around you, make it happen.

#channeler #intuitive readings #intuition readings #pick a pile #pick a card #pick a photo

417 notes · View notes

bhpop · 4 months

Text

Eyeless-Yuu and Grim.

{TW: Slight Blood + Violence + Mentions of Kidnapping + Mentions of Torture / If there are any Trigger Warnings I didn't mention or place please let me know, and if you can't handle the triggers I did place please scroll away.}

{Honestly the brush I used works well for Eyeless-Yuu}

So Eyeless-Yuu's empty sockets tend to bleed whenever they're nervous/scared {not just when they're sad like in the character sheet, when they're sad the bleeding doesn't stop till they finally calm down but leaves a bloody mess} and it gets pretty gross due to the constant messy and {sticky[?]} dry blood stains from Eyeless-Yuu.

As for why Eyeless-Yuu is well eyeless, I had previous concepts as to why they don't have eyes {they were based off the creepypastas Eyeless Jack and Lulu, and some slight similarities to the slit mouthed woman}. The current one I'm going for to why they don't have eyes is because they were obviously stolen and taken due to them rejecting a noble's love. So due to blind rage and arrogance {along with an ego} the noble had they had kidnapped Eyeless-Yuu and placed them through torture {nothing like SA just gruesome torture}, when it was over somewhat over that's when Eyeless-Yuu's eyes were stolen since the reason Eyeless-Yuu rejected the nobles love was because they wanted to experience "love at firsts sight" and not forced love or an arranged marriage, so the noble took advantage of this and after stealing Eyeless-Yuu's eyes they told them "How will you ever find love now? In fact who would ever love you now?". After that they let Eyeless-Yuu go after dumping them off somewhere {Eyeless-Yuu didn't know where but assumed it was in a forest of wooded area} that's when the magic carriage arrived and took them to NRC while they had small consciousness.

After that Eyeless-Yuu has obvious trust issues and fear of touch {due to the torture}. The only person[?] allowed to touch Eyeless-Yuu is Grim. Even if during the beginning prologue when first meeting Grim Eyeless-Yuu relied on Grim to be their eyes and help them get around since they can't see. {Eyeless-Yuu surprisingly doesn't mind being called henchmen since when they did have eyes Eyeless-Yuu worked as a maid [almost like a henchmen?], in Eyeless-Yuu's world it's during when nobles were more in power and women weren't allowed to do many things. But Eyeless-Yuu does trust Grim a lot since they have to rely on him to guide them, they will eventually warm up to others but for now Yuu only relies on Grim [sometimes Crowley] but does trust Ace and Deuce after a while [mainly Deuce]}

Bonus: Eyeless-Yuu was attractive but wasn't really approached by men due to their eyes {I finally settled on them having heterochromia}, but the noble who said they loved Eyeless-Yuu only approached them since he was 'desperate' for a wife, he was going to threaten Eyeless-Yuu by claiming they were a witch due to their eyes after the rejection but Eyeless-Yuu didn't care since they didn't budge on wanting to experience true love and love at first sight.

#twst yuu #twst mc #twst #twisted wonderland #twst au #twisted wonderland x reader #twst imagines #twst x reader #twst x yuu

544 notes · View notes

authorhjk1 · 5 months

Text

Interlude: Ms. Satan

(Kim Bora X Male Reader)

You immediately know it's a dream as soon as you open your eyes. Your body is that of an 18 year old. Standing in front of a large, dark building you feel shivers run down your spine.

Your friends made you do this. A bet. A bet that could earn you 200 bucks. Is it worth it? Maybe not. And yet, here you are. Although you are scared, you still want to find out what's going on in this building.

The cold night air messes up your hair. The stars and the moon seem unusual gloomy.

There are stories of some sort of ghost or witch or something. Hiding in this abandoned building. If the stories are true, no one has gone in there for two years now.

You gulp, the palms of your hands starting to sweat. The huge double doors are covered in yellow tape. "Caution" is written in big black letters all over them.

One of the doors is slightly ajar. Not creepy at all. You try to squeeze through the gap, hoping to not make a sound.

Your backpack feels heavy on your shoulders. You win the bet, when you leave this building tomorrow morning. Hopefully alive. For now, you plan to make your way to the roof, hoping to be able to sleep up there. There shouldn't be so much potential trouble up there. The problem is just getting there.

You hear your steps echo through the empty building as you start to climb the stairs. The bright circle of light from your flashlight illuminates the walls.

A cold breeze rushes through the building. You hear some weird noise further upstairs. You stop in your tracks. It sounded like someone was walking. But the sound is gone now. Maybe that was just your imagination.

You sigh as you reach the first floor. Five more to go. The circle of light keeps dancing on the walls in front of you as you begin the climb for the second floor.

Another sound. Your heart is almost in your throat. After a second you realize it's just rain. Heavy drops hitting the building and some of the broken windows down the hall.

You get a little wet as you climb the stairs, the rain making the steps slippery. But if it rains, you can't sleep on the roof.

You groan in annoyance. Your heart stops. There it is again. The sound somewhere in the building. As if someone is walking.

You ponder if you should just run. Just run for your life without looking back. There is definitely something here. Something that already seems to know about your presence.

You reach the second floor. Your senses heightened. Should you really turn back? But that would be so embarrassing. You just hurt some stuff. Probably just the wind.

You start to take the stairs to the third floor. After a couple of steps, you freeze. Your heart almost stops. The light of your flashlight shows you a scene you never wanted to see.

A woman is sitting on the stairs. Her dark eyes seem cold. And yet they look like they can burn with fire. Her dark hair is held back by a ponytail. Most of her body is covered in a black and orange fur coat. The patterns and colors remind you of lava. Two necklaces are decorating her neck and a huge golden flower ring is slipped on her finger.

The most eye catching are her boots though. They are white and almost reach her knees. The heels look quit high, which makes you think that these can't be comfortable at all. The most disturbing thing is the fact that splashes of blood are on them. Her white boots are covered in blood.

"Hello there, hero."

"Wha-What?"

Her voice sounds sultry. Her eyes seem to stare into your soul as she keeps talking.

"You are the first one after quite a while. I was almost getting bored."

"You.... You live here?"

She chuckles. It's a beautiful sound. For some reason you expected it to sound evil. Like that of a witch.

"Of course not. But I do feel some sort of connection to this place."

You hesitantly nod. She seems nice, but you would argue that her boots say otherwise.

"What's you name, hero?"

"It's-It's (y/n). But why do you keep calling me that?"

The woman chuckles again.

"Only heroes are brave enough to face me."

"Ah."

You nod in fake understanding. This woman seems to be a little out of her mind. Or is this actually something supernatural?

"You are here because you want to feel my warmth though, am I right?"

"Your-Your, sorry, what?"

"My warmth. The people in this area send me dozens of heroes over the last hundreds of years."

What is she talking about? Is she actually that old? But she can't be human then.

"Y-You are here for over a hundred years?"

"Don't young men like you prefer an older woman?"

"What?"

Another chuckle.

"You don't seem to have a clue what's going on."

"I-I don't."

The woman slowly let's her fur coat glide off her shoulders. Her black top is decorated with some lace around her cleavage. The straps show of her naked shoulders. She rests her chin on her hand.

"I will make this night the best of your life."

"R-Really?"

"Really."

Her smile seems a little warmer now then before.

"Come closer."

She motions you with a finger to step towards her. You do so. Her boot is right next to your leg now.

"Have you ever been with a woman before?"

You blush as you shake your head. The woman reaches out. Before you can react, she traces the outlines of your dick with a finger over your jeans.

"Virgins are always the best ones. They are so eager to please."

It seems like she said that to herself.

"Let me see that cock of yours."

She has been staring at it, but is now looking up at you.

"W-What?"

"Come on,boy. Take it out for me."

You gulp. Her voice has become a little deeper. More seductive.

As you open your jeans, you realize that you don't have a choice. As if she is making you do it.

Your pants drop. And a second later, your underwear does the same. The cold air makes you shiver as you are now completely naked from the waist down.

"Not bad."

The woman let's her fingertips dance over your length. You jerk away at first. Her hand is warmer than you expected. It's almost hot.

"What is that? Six inches?"

You nod as she wraps her hand around your cock. As she slowly starts to stroke you, you feel yourself harden.

Your desire to fuck her slowly starts to rise. You were scared at first. But it seems like she really wants this.

"What do you think about making it a little bigger?"

"W-What?"

There is that melodic chuckle again.

"Don't worry. It will only benefit you in the future."

You hesitate before you nod.

Your core starts to heat up and you see your dick starting to grow very slowly. In length and in girth. Six inches become seven, then eight and then nine.

"That's more like it."

The woman stops stroking you. She sticks her tongue out, letting it swirl around your tip.

You groan. You never felt this before.

Her lips slowly wrap around you. Your dick feels heavier than before. She looks up at you as she starts to suck you off. Her tongue is pressed against the underside of your shaft as she slowly takes more.

The woman retreats while stroking you again.

"And you taste good, too."

She winks, before sliding your cock into her mouth once more. The warmth heats up your whole body. Her saliva starts to coat your dick as she keeps sliding down your length.

You slowly start to enter her throat. You can feel it by the way her walls tighten around you. There is more friction now. She doesn't stop though. She keeps going and going.

Your eyes are wide in surprise and pleasure. You did watch some videos before, but none of the women were able to do it this easily. Especially without gagging. But for her it seems like a piece of cake.

You slide further down her throat. How is she taking all of that? She looks up at you, when she finally reaches your base. Your whole cock is inside her mouth and throat. Her walls massage your cock as she breaths, making you a little dizzy. How does this feel so good?

You see her using a finger to point at her throat. You crook your head the side. A visible bulge has formed in her throat. A familiar tug starts to build up in your core as you watch her place her hand on her own throat.

You feel the pressure of her hand as she pushes against her throat a little. Needing to tighten your grip on the flashlight you are holding, you try to hold it in. You don't want to cum so fast.

Your head starts to spin as she slowly retreats. Inch after inch leaves her throat and mouth. It's all covered in a thick layer of saliva.

"Does that feel good?"

Her question and her voice sound so innocent. As if she didn't just swallow your whole cock. You nod as she strokes your spit covered cock slowly.

"I think it's time to repay the favour."

She kisses your tip with her plump lips, before standing up.

"Get on your knees for mommy."

You are surprised by her calling herself mommy. And yet it does seem kinda fitting. You do as she says, kneeling down on the stairs.

The woman steps a step down, now standing almost directly above you. You are able to look underneath her black mini skirt. Her black panties have a golden miniature bell in the front.

"You have never eaten pussy, have you?"

You shake your head. You have seen it in the videos though.

"Stick out your tongue."

Once again, you feel as if you don't have choice. Before you can think about it, your tongue already leaves your mouth.

"Such a good boy."

She murmurs, while reaching out with her hand that's decorated with the big ring. Her finger slowly glides over your tongue. You feel it tingle a little, until she removes her finger.

"That should do."

The woman cups your cheek, while looking into your eyes.

"Now eat out mommy."

You reach underneath her skirt. Feeling the light fabric in your hands, you start to pull down her panties. The small bell jingles a little. It's barely audible.

You slide her panties down her legs. When you reach her boots, you fumble around a little, trying to get them over the white material. The fact that there is blood on them has already become unimportant to you.

Once they hit the floor, she steps out of them and kicks them aside. You straighten your back, now able to reach her pussy with your mouth. You are about to have your first taste, when you suddenly feel her hand in your hair. She pulls you back.

"You can't just go in there, honey. You have to start slowly."

You do as she says. You kiss her skin right above her right knee, before switching to the left. Slowly, you make your way up her creamy thighs. Her smooth skin tastes quite good. Not something you expected.

You become hungrier with every second. She sighs as you close in on her pussy, kissing the insides of her thighs.

Now that you are going slower, you can take a good look at her center.

Her pink pussy is hidden behind her folds, her clit barely peeking out. She is cleanly shaven, the skin just as smooth as her legs. You can see her lips glisten with arousal after your exploration of her thighs.

"Oh damn!"

She moans as you swipe your tongue through her folds. You have never done this before. And yet, your seem to know what you are doing. Or rather, your mouth knows what it's doing. It must be because of that thing she did with your tongue. A spell or something.

You begin to eat out the black haired woman. Moan after moan starts to spill from her lips. You push your tongue inside her pussy. Then, you swipe across her clit, drawing different shapes.

"Fuck. I shouldn't have given you this ability."

Her knees buckle as she gets overwhelmed by your new found skills. She has to hold onto your hair for support. You feel the wide sleeve of her fur coat rest on your head.

"Hold onto my waist."

You do as she says, holding her underneath the coat. Her skin feels a little warmer underneath your hands now.

"What a good boy."

She sighs and you can feel her, throwing her head back in bliss.

"You wanna make mommy cum, don't you?"

As if your body knows what to do to increase her pleasure, you nod. Because your mouth is still attached to her snatch, you make the woman's legs buckle again. The new sensation almost too much for her.

You feel her pussy becoming wetter as you feast on it. No spot stays untouched as you make sure to drive this unknown woman to her orgasm.

"Eat my pussy like the toy you are."

Her voice has become more sultry again as she nears her climax. Her grip on your hair becomes stronger. You feel her nails dig into your scalp.

"Mommy is gonna cum!"

She loudly announces her orgasm.

You keep up your work as she starts to cum. Her juices flood your tongue as she cums in your mouth. Her thighs close instinctively, trapping your head between them. Your face is pressed further against her pussy as she pulls at your hair.

You hear the woman breath heavily as she starts to come back to her senses. She parts her legs again, but doesn't loosen her grip on your hair. She pushes your head out of her pussy and makes you look up at her.

"You want to become a man?"

Her question sends shivers down your spine. You have never done this before. Especially not with a woman who seems to be supernatural.

But you know that the answer is yes.

She can see it in your eyes, her smile urging you on.

After letting go of your hair, she leans against the wall to your right. One foot on the step you are kneeling on, the other one step above.

"Come here then. Treat me like a man would treat me."

You almost jump to your feet, unable to hide your excitement. Standing right in front of her, you place your feet on the same steps like she did. She is a little smaller than you and yet, her pussy is on the perfect hight for your cock, due to her heels. It's tip grazes against her lower lips already.

"Put it in."

She whispers as she slings her arms around your neck.

"Take me."

You look down, as you start to part her folds. For the first time in your life, you start to penetrate a woman's most intimate area.

Her walls squeeze your cock tightly as you push forward. You go slowly, not wanting to hurt her. She bites her lip as she looks up at you.

"Give me all of it. All of your cock."

You feel her pussy molding around you as you penetrate her further. As if her cunt is reshaping itself to fit your cock like a tight sleeve.

You groan as you finally bottom out inside of her.

"Fuck. That's a good boy."

She bites your earlobe slightly, before whispering in your ear.

"Put your hands on my hips. And then, fuck me. Fuck me good."

You place your hands on her sides once more as you nod.

"That's good!"

You see her closing her eyes as you slowly pull out. Her pussy seems to try to keep you inside as you struggle to even pull out half of your cock.

You push back inside, making the woman lean her head against the wall.

"Faster, boy."

You do as she says, finally convinced you are not able to hurt her like this.

Your thrusts become faster and stronger. Her wetness makes a little easier to slide in and out.

More lewd words and moans are thrown your way as you start to actually fuck her. You nail her against the wall with every thrust, before you retreat. Then, you pull her body towards you as you thrust forward, pinning her against the wall yet again.

You keep your steady pace. Her moans increase in volume as she feels your cock hit the right spot deep inside her body.

"That's it. Pound your mommy like a good toy."

You fuck her harder. You pull her forward harsher, before slamming her against the wall.

The longer you keep fucking this woman, the longer your primal desires take over. You care less and less about your surroundings. You only care about her. Her and her pussy.

How rough you are with her doesn't matter anymore. You have to take from her as much pleasure as you can. Use her body to make yourself cum.

The woman seems to have sensed the change of your nature.

"That's it, boy. "

She moans into your ear.

"Fuck me like the slut I am. Use my hole until you cum."

You let out a groan as you think about cuming. You realize that you are lasting longer than ever before. When you do this on your own, it usually takes just a few minutes. But you feel like you have been fucking her four half an hour. Maybe that's another thing that changed, when she made your dick grow.

"Pound me with that cock of yours. I want to feel all your cum on my face."

Her words make you want to step up your game. You feel her increasing wetness as her juices slowly dribble out of the connection between your bodies.

"Fuck. You're gonna make mommy cum again."

You groan, close to your own orgasm as well. You don't know if you can survive her climaxing around your cock. Her pussy is already incredibly tight.

"Yes! Make mommy cum around that big cock of yours!"

You strengthen the grip on her hips, trying to use it to thrust into her just a little harder.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

You almost scream as well as you feel her orgasm. Her walls tighten around you, trying to milk you. Her nails scratch at the back of your neck. Lewd sounds leave her mouth, which is dangerously close to your ear. Her legs buckle.

You stop thrusting, giving her time to regain her composure. It takes her a couple of moments.

Once she has come down, she looks at you hungrily.

"Increasing your length and stamina was a good call."

She traces your jawline with a finger.

"But the best feature is your cum. From now on, you will drown every woman in cum."

"What?"

You are too stunned to speak. Partially because you are still trying to recover as well, while her pussy is still hugging you tight. You believe she is exaggerating.

"You don't trust me?"

Her hand wanders to the back of your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair. You suddenly feel her pussy tighten around you. You can't believe she is able to adjust the size of her cunt. She squeezes you, making your cock twitch inside of her. You feel overwhelmed as she pulls at your hair at the same time. Her pussy is almost painfully tight by now.

"I trust you. I trust you!"

You sigh as you feel her releasing her grip. Both around your cock and on your hair.

"A toy doesn't question it's mommy. Understood?"

You nod.

"Good. Now be a good boy and cum on my face."

She pushes you away, making you slowly glide out of her pussy.

You watch her sit down on the stairs, like she did as you first saw her.

"Your cock looks so tasty with all my cum on it."

She takes you into her mouth, making you groan. Her lips wrap around you, her cheeks hollow. You feel her tongue dance along your cock, teasing and edging you. There is no way you are going to last much longer.

As the woman sucks you off again, you feel a tug in your stomach. It's a little stronger than it usually is. Maybe because you actually had sex? Or because you have more cum? You don't know. But it feels so good.

She doesn't even need to take your entire length down her throat again. Her lips have reached the middle of your cock as you feel yourself twitching.

Her eyes are wide with lust, demanding you to cum right now.

You can't hold back. A new kind of rush fills your system.

The first shot of cum hits the back of her throat, before she is able to react. She moves her head away, pointing your cock towards her face with one hand.

You have to hold onto the steel banister as you start to paint her face. Rope after rope of cum covers her perfect skin. Some lands on her lips. More lands on her closed eyelids, making them visibly heavier. It's dripping down her forehead, while the hair that frames her face is coated in cum as well.

But it still doesn't stop. You give her so much, that it starts to drop down from her chin. She tries to save it by opening her mouth and letting her tongue roam around. But a second after her mouth is opened, it's almost overflowing with your cum already. She has to gulp it down, preventing herself from choking and suffocating as more and more runs down her throat.

Once you finally finish cuming, you almost don't even dare to look at her.

Her whole face is covered by a thick layer of white, sticky cum. She can only open her eyes halfway, the cum on her eyelids weighing them down.

"What did I tell you?"

She chuckles, before she starts to lap up your cum from her face. Not just with her tongue, but her finger as well.

"This is even more than I expected. Probably because this was your first time."

You are unable to respond, still trying to comprehend what has happened in the last hour. For some reason her cum covered face turns you on again. The desire, to use her body, from earlier is slowly coming back.

When she looks up at you, you see her licking her finger for the last time. Her face is mostly cleaned up.

She seems to sense your new found desire. A smile forms around her lips.

"That's right, boy. You want to fuck me again, don't you?"

You nod hesitantly.

"You can't take your eyes off me. You want to feel every part of my body underneath your hands."

You nod again. Her words make your cock hard.

"I still have some time, before my husband comes home."

"W-What?"

You didn't even think about the possibility of her being married.

"Don't worry about him. He never pays attention to me anyways."

She reaches forward, letting her hand stroke your cock again.

"I'm always trying to teach boys like you something new. But I've already given you my mouth and my pussy."

She kisses the tip of your cock, her eyes a little darker.

"There is one more hole of mine that you can use. Make my ass cum. And maybe I will se you again after tonight."

The man on his throne laughs as he looks at the flames. His red body is glistening with sweat, screams of fear echo in the distance. Through the flames, he watches you stand behind his wife, aligning your cock with her rear entrance.

"You always corrupt the good ones."

He laughs to himself, his voice raspy and dark.

As you push inside of her, he can hear her moan, telling you to cum in her ass later.

Satan grins as he stands up, ready to punish the sinners that are burning in hell.

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

Hi everyone!

Enjoy this interlude. It wasn't planned at all, but after seeing SuA's Instagram post..... What am I supposed to say?

Hope you guys like the concept.

I'm excited for the new album.

Have a nice day!

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop girls #kpop gg #male reader #dreamcatcher #dreamcatcher smut #kim bora #bora

430 notes · View notes