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atyourmerci · 2 days

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Softdom!abby X plus sized insecure reader ♡

Abby painting all the things she loves about your body

CW: smut, MDNI, softdom!abby, sub!reader, plussized!reader, reader is anxious, me making up shit ab artistry, face sitting, fingering, mult orgasms

♡ ♡

In your sun kissed painting room, abby lies against your velvet couch, her blonde hair glowing against her pale flesh. She often modeled for all of your class assignments so she was used to her spotlight.

She loved watching you at work, so concentrated as you perfected your craft. She would do anything for you, she just wanted to help her beautiful girl.

As your eyes are trained on the majority of a blank canvas you zone in on creating your base, knowing your girlfriend would stay still so you can get your perfect shot.

“Why don’t you ever let me pain you?” Is heard from behind the white canvas propped up on your easel.

It caught you so off guard your head peaks around the board to look at your girlfriend. hmmm? Comes out as an honest confusion.

She giggles to herself at how locked in you truly were, “why don’t I ever paint you?” She reiterates.

You giggle back at her question, “because you can’t paint for shit,” you toy with her playfully.

“And what if I wanted to try huh, maybe I’m not using the right medium perhaps,” she comes back with a sophisticated air to her tone.

“Yeah yeah okay, just sit and look pretty,” you say getting back to your work when you hear a rustling, seeing her get up from the couch to approach you, “don’t move! That was a perfect-,” before you could finish her hands are wrapped around your stomach as she kisses the side of your face.

You can’t seem to protest with the naked woman behind you, touches of her sun soaked skin drenching you. You lean into it, letting her do as she pleased.

“I want to paint you,” she says in between peppering kisses down your neck. You giggle at her insistence, “baby I think we’ve been over th-,”

“No, no I want you paint on you,” she whispers into your ear as her hand cups your jaw gently.

“N-now? Right now?” You turn to face her, she had to be joking, right? Abby watches you with doe eyes, nodding back at you.

“But it’s bright in here,” you say averting your glance, the pit in your stomach growing with anxiety of the thought. Your nervous tick of flexing your fingers beginning, and abby notices.

Taking your palms into her own and rubbing circles with her thumbs on top of your hands in order to soothe you.

“I know. I want to admire every part of you. I want you to see what I see baby. Is that okay?”

A white tapestry lies beneath your barren body, stripped of all the confines and masks you build up to protect perception.

There’s no real reason to hide from abby. She adored every inch of you. Every marking on your body was akin to threads of gold to her.

Now tracing them with your paintbrushes, creating flowers from the stretch marks on your stomach, one of the biggest insecurities you had.

You once tried to hide them, turning around to change, avoiding mirrors that may give away your secrets. She’d trace them in the safety in the darkness, admiring your body for taking care of you, protecting you when she couldn’t.

As she aimlessly paints away at your flesh she admires her artwork, not the paint itself, but her own human body sculpted for her eyes. She rambles on about how you represent the body of a Greek goddess, full and radiant.

Her light touches, soft words, and longing glances sending you into the deepest form of arousal you’d ever known.

To be loved is to be seen

Beginning to form dainty flowers amongst the stretch marks in your inner thighs you couldn’t take it anymore, breath getting heavier, her mouth beginning to gape at your dripping arousal…so close to her touch.

“Please sit on my face,” she sounded depraved, as if she’d die without it.

“B-but the paint,” you breathe out, not giving a shit, but knowing there would be a mess.

“I don’t fucking care, please baby,” she pleas, gripping into the flesh of your thighs.

You’d never done this, allowed yourself that vulnerability. You’d berate your thoughts, always worrying you’d be too heavy. What if she thought you were too much, too heavy for her? Would it change her mind about you?

She guides you above your mouth, paint smearing across her cheeks. You begin at a hover, attempting to make yourself lighter, more palatable.

“Baby all of you, please I need you,” you hear from her, tugging on your thighs to sit comfortably on top of her.

A sigh of relief floods you, releasing the tension and submitting to her completely.

If she could have eaten you whole, she would have. Sloppily licking down your cunt, pressing down your thighs to get as close as she could.

She made you whine and shake till your tired limbs gave out, falling down onto her, letting your body rest completely. Planting kisses on your forehead while she runs her fingertips through your hair.

“Let me do the work this time, just lay there and look pretty,” she says gazing down at you with a grin, knowing she’s stealing your line.

Your body sprawled out on the cloth, completely revealed to her open-mouthed gaze, sun kissing your sweaty flesh.

Driving her fingers into you she can’t help but stare at your pretty mess, paint covered, soaking cunt all of her. “Look so fucking pretty like this,” she coos, sending your head back in pleasure.

The feeling of full liberation, complete autonomy over your body, at the hands of her.

‘mine mine my girl my fucking pretty girl’ she can’t stop herself from babbling, watching as her piece of art comes to life.

Even after you finish from her fingers she can’t stop looking, obsessed, utterly enthralled at the thought of getting the honor of fucking a goddess.

Dried paint chips away at your bodies as the sun goes down. Bare bodies lying there for hours. Maybe you’d never leave this moment.

#abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby anderson tlou2 #abby angst #abby the last of us #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou x reader #abby x you #dom abby anderson #abby anderson x f!reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson fanfic #plus size reader

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flecks-of-stardust · 2 years

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are there any knitters following me? what’s the stretchiest cast on you know of? i’m struggling to find a good way to make that sweater for hornet :/

#if i size it for her body it gapes at her neck #if i size it for her neck i can’t put it on #i’m frustrated but i still want to try because this is really the only roadblocj #*roadblock and like if this doesn’t work i’ll do something fancy with the neckline i guess #but >:(#idk what to tag this to attract more knitters lmao #oh and for the record i’ve tried the german twist cast on #which is allegedly even stretchier than the long tail cast on #and even still it doesn’t fit around her too well

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mellowwillowy · 8 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫

Yan! Eldritch Horrors (or Monsterfuck for short) × GN! Reader

"I want you to gut me baby~"

""Say less""

Warning: NSFW, Inhumane Size, threesome, mention of wanting Reader to be a 'Mother', gruesome talk

So that's how you ended up in this mating press position, your guts rearranged by his inhumane size, your face dumbstruck by pleasure and pain at the same time.

"Ssshhh, you said you want to be gutted by us no? Take it, take it all~" his pace does not falter, it remains the same and steady, his veins hitting the spot you are dying for.

Of course, there's still another one present on the bed.

"Just wrap this cock with that pretty mouth, 'kay? Be good for us and we will reward you."

Your mouth is already sore from having his inhumane size still in you, drool pooling down on the mattress you three were on.

"So good~ so good for us aren't you, doll?"

His hand caresses the strands of hair from your face, sweats making it stick to your skin. You look down at your stomach and see something bulging out. It disappears then reappears again, pushing your guts upward, or so you think.

The other pulls out his member from your mouth and you immediately feel your sore jaw before he brings your hand to your stomach.

"Why don't you feel the thing that has been piercing you?"

"Oh-ho! Great idea! See? This is the proof of my love, gutting the fuck out of you," he increases his pace, his thrust getting deeper and harder, "feeling you in a way mortals shouldn't, oh how much I want you to be the 'Mother' of my offsprings~"

"Don't." He shoots the man above you a glare.

"What? I'm sure you want to see them bear us children too no~? Imagine seeing them round with our offspring in them."

"I'd rather not have the child eat and rip her alive."

Talking about those gruesome stuff while they are fucking you up? You love that. Truth to be said, the idea of being able to carry a child excites you, especially one that is inhumane and is capable of eating you alive to survive!

"What? Aha, are you sick? I can feel you clenching me!"

"Maybe our doll needs a bit of repair soon," he frowns as he peppers you with kisses, "I can't and won't let you ever bear any pain because of us..."

You kiss him back, tongue clashing with his. Not wanting to lose, he kisses you back, not letting you go until he figures you've run out of breath. He doesn't want you to faint just because of a kiss after all.

"Haa... khk- hey, what would you do if I wasn't joking?"

"... I'd fucking kill you"

"Wha-?"

This time the man above kisses you, unlike the passionate kiss you shared with the other one, his is more greedy and needy, teeth clashing against yours and tongue occasionally bitten.

"So close, soooo close... hey... I love ya'"

That was his warning before you felt something warm filling you up to the brim, hell the bulge is still there, all he has to do is pull out push your stomach down and his dead offspring will flow out of you like a tap water.

Just as he pulls himself out, he is immediately shoved to the side, "What a bad habit you got right here, not giving them a proper finish..."

"Eh? No... I, I came earlier so- ahk!"

He starts to stimulate you back, his fingers working their way around you, "Nonsense, you deserve more," his fingers insert themselves into your gaping hole, hitting all the spots that make you see the cosmic. His tongue licks your jaw, nibbling it before moving to your neck, giving you a hickey.

You come shortly after that, body twitching and mind dazes off into the unknown until he places his member on top of your face.

"Remember, I still haven't had my share, doll."

Oh that thing is surely going to fucking pierce and gut you up and you love that ♡

"Yeeeeeeshhh....."

---

Afternotes: I actually have the pairings in my head but I'll just let you guys decide.

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savnofilter · 6 months

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Run, Bunny | k. bakugo

Werewolf!Katsuki Bakugo x Bunny![FEM]Reader

CONTENT WARNING(S): sexual content, one shot, autassassinophilia if you squint, pwp, rough sex, mocking, degradation (nothing extreme), established relationship.

COUNT: 1.4k words [5 mins].

READ MORE: masterlist + [students | bakugo masterlist]

A/N: lmaoo this was originally meant to be posted on easter along with a dabi one but surprise surprise!! it never happened (obviously). backstory though, reader was teasing him n then gets anxious when he finally snaps and catches her lol. didnt write it out but that's the context kekeke. hope you guys enjoy this. 🫶🏽☠️

His breathing was ragged and his body was huge.

His chest rose and fell as his mouth salivated, teeth and lips soaked with drool and slobber.

You shakingly looked up at the huge wolf, heart thumping furiously between your ribcage. You shook in terror; if it wasn’t a heart attack that was going to take you, it certainly was going to be this big, bad, wolf.

You couldn’t even move to block yourself. Your jaw was locked shut and your body was frozen save for the tremble that racked your body. He leaned in closer to you, letting you hear the sound of his strong fists snapping the wood underneath his fingertips and palms. You turned your face away from him as he leaned in closer, his body heat hot as he closed in on you.

As much as you dreaded him getting any closer to you, there was a sense of pull inside you that didn’t want him to pull away. But alas he did.

A small whimper managed to escape your lips as he briskly added distance between you and his body, your body relaxing although not calming down. You looked back at him with tearful eyes not sure of his next moves. He backed away with a snarl and stood up tall. With how much he was hunched over most of the time your pre-existing idea of his stature was incredibly unprepared for his actual size. If you were a normal bunny, you would be terrified. Well—you are, but another trait you always had with you was that anything that scared you also excited you in… different other ways. You needed to stop this now before it dragged on.

You open your mouth to maybe try and calm him down, “I didn’t-”

Sniff sniff sniff

You stopped dead in your tracks as he started to sniff you, gobsmacked as he invaded your personal space. The closer he got to you, the more aware you were of the situation and the need to have him grew even more. Even at the back of your mind, you knew it was bad but you couldn’t help it. And you never really tried to hide your urges either. If you could make it out of this without your secret being covered was the ideal situation.

You were lost as he kept sniffing you, his face going to your neck and slowly moving over and lower on your body. You could feel your cheeks start to burn up as he got closer between your legs, stopping at the spot of your crouch. His left eyebrow raised in bewilderment.

“You’ve got to be shitting me,” The wolf grunted. “‘You in heat?”

Never have you ever been so embarrassed before. The blood rushing to your cheeks was hot, noticeable or not. Your mouth gaped like a fish as you tried to come up with an excuse to save yourself the humiliation. “I-I-”

“I, I, what? Spit it the fuck out.” The blonde gripped your cheeks in a piercing grip, his sharp nails threatening to cut at your skin. You shut your mouth as he mocked you, closing your eyes as you were ready to give in. He rolled his eyes at your submissive behavior, expecting no better from such a bunny. His eyes trail your body taking in your thin material, fingers playing with the hem of your pants. “I’ll just have to see it for myself."

His fingers gripped your pants and tugged it down, brows shooting up at the revelation of no underwear underneath. His lips tug into a wolfish grin, crimson eyes feasting on the sight before him. He wastes no time cupping your sex, growling at the abundance of slick that covers his fingers. He teasingly rubs up and down your lips to spread them, the tips of his fingers dipping just slightly at your opening to torture you. He mockingly leans forward and grins openly as you move your head to the side, avoiding looking at him as your hips move with his pawing.

"K-Katsuki, stop fucking around!" You mewl, getting angrier by the second as you attempt to hide your embarrassment, your fingers tugging at him to get closer.

"Look at this slut, all hot and needy for a wolf she's been messin' with the whole day." He taunts you in your ear and licks a stripe up your neck, his trail leading to your earlobe, and nips at the skin. He roughly sucks on the soft area, grunting in your ear once he slips a careful finger into your tight cunt. He slowly pumps his finger at an agonizingly larghissimo pace. The more he pumps, the wider your legs open and so he slips in another. You groan at how the stretch feels in your cunt, eyes looking up at him with a look that begs for more. His gaze darkens at your provocation, his hands swiftly leaving your needy cunt. "I was going to be nice, but it's clear you don't want that."

He grabs your clothes and effortlessly flips you over into your hands and knees. He delivers a harsh slap to your exposed bum, a soft whimper from the pain coming from you as you try to assume the position that you're most familiar with. He cusses at how desperate you look, his hands gripping your ass cheeks and watching as both of your holes clench. He spreads your cheeks further, fondling your globes as he takes a closer look at your cunny.

The male is swift in pulling out his cock, not caring about the repercussions anymore. His mushroom tip presses itself against your wet opening, his hand guiding it up and down your lips to gain as much natural lube from you as he can before he slips in. He manages to hold in the pleasurable moan that threatens to escape his lips as he sinks himself fully into you without caring about how you are receiving it. Based on your whimpering cries, you weren't protesting at all.

His hips smack against yours as he finally bottoms out, his cock twitching as your warm walls easily accommodate him. He offers no chance for you to catch up with him as he starts his punishing pace, but your body quickly adapts to him.

You suck a small hiss between your teeth as you welcome his harsh thrusts, your pussy deeply appreciating the length and width being fucked into you. You know you shouldn't be enjoying it so much but there was no denying how much you loved to fucked like this, by a werewolf nonetheless. As you start to get comfortable with the handling of the blonde behind you, a sharp gasp is ripped out of your throat, a searing pain pricking at the base of two spots that sit at the top of your head. Your back arches as your head is pulled back by the tension of your bunny ears being pulled back behind you in a rough grip, a pained groan urging its way out when he bottoms out inside you to taint your senses.

"This little bunny wants a whole litter, don't ya?" He leans down next to your ear, grinning as you do nothing but take it. He wraps his other arm around your waist to keep you close, offering no solution for you to have a moment of peace. "The way you're squeezing me tells me all I need to know."

Shamefully, the rough handling you were facing was something that you loved. This was evident through the way that your walls now spasmed as it got ready to milk everything from the ravishing male behind you and how you pushed your hips back against his.

The blonde sensing this reaches down to toy with your cunt, hips ramming into yours to greedily take everything it can. "That's it, I've got you, bunny."

In a juxtaposition to his soothing words, his actions say something else. He shoves you down to have your face down and ass up, hand now tangled in your tresses. His hand which was once soothingly rubbing at your clit delivers a harsh slap to it, the impact sending you over the edge. You cry out as he fucks you through his orgasm, his seed spilling into you without care about the consequences.

Semen seeps from your cunt as he empties his balls, fresh tears of pleasure and overstimulation spilling from your eyes. With one last chuckle, he leans down to give your cheek a kiss, his hand patting your hip as he allows you to come down from the intense session.

"You're such a pervert, Y/N."

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo x reader #werewolf!bakugo katsuki x reader #bnha oneshots #mha oneshots #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha scenarios #mha scenarios #n/sfw #sav sins

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decayedgloria · 8 months

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request!!

(wlw)

arlecchino fucking reader with her dick after getting jealous that reader was talking to childe too much. if you could make it size kink and possessive that would be nice!

ty!

use your words

ft. Arlecchino

A lil drabble for you :)

Tags: Afab!reader, wlw, strap fucking, dom!Arlecchino, size kink, slight degradation, possessive arlecchino and oblivious reader, nsfw under cut, mdni

In your defense, you had always been on the more extroverted side- it seemed as though you could talk your head off to just about any and everything, even your superiors, apparently.

You whined in desperation as Arlecchino dug her nails into your hips, no doubt leaving behind sharp indentations as she slowly moved her strap in and out of your gaping hole, never truly sating your desire to finally cum. With your arched back and plump ass right against her, Arlecchino grinned wickedly at the beautiful sight before her.

"That's right, love..." She whispered huskily, leaning over to place her lips right next to your ears, warm breath fanning over your face. "Only I can make you feel this good. Do you think that brat Tartaglia can do this to you?" You shook your head feebly, rolling your hips against hers in order to have some sort of relief, but to no avail. She only tsked in annoyance, bringing a hand against your ass for what seemed like the nth time that night.

"You were so eager to use your words with him. Why not use them now?" Suddenly, you were pulled into a fast and deep pace by Arlecchino, her hips snapping against yours in a feverish frenzy as you gasp and moan in surprise, though no actual words came out of your fucked out mouth- only praises for her.

"S'good...! You make m'feel so- ngh!" It was as if your mind had been overtaken by the exhilarating pleasure and pain all at once, with the only sensation you could properly feel being the way that her cock seemed to stretch your gummy walls even more than it usually did. You try to bury your head in the mattress below you, but Arlecchino's hand firmly held you back by the neck, hissing once more in your ear as she lets out a few grunts of her own.

"Don't even think about silencing yourself. I want to hear you scream on my cock. Let everyone know what a filthy slut you are for my cock." She growls, her sharp tone hungry for your voice as she slowly, but surely splits you open.

All you could do was sob and babble, tears streaming down your face as you try to form a coherent sentence for her, the knot in your lower abdomen growing tenser and tenser.

Earlier that day, Childe had asked you to keep him company at a tavern not far from the camp you were situated in. As his good friend, you decided to tag along; whether or not it was the alcohol that made your oblivious to his lingering touches or hungry gaze, Arlecchino cared not.

She only wished to punish you for even speaking to him.

Her teeth dragged across your body as she left all kinds of marks on your skin, like a grotesque artist painting their flesh canvas with blood. Much of your back was left with large, dark love bites and the occasional bite mark as she staked her claim over every inch of you- from your chest, to your stomach, to your thighs; all covered in her marks.

She relished in the way you writhed underneath her, pleasure clouding your mind and making you utterly helpless, taking her in your tight little hole like the good cockslut you were. Archons, your entire, sinful being would be the end of her.

"Go on, cum for me." Arlecchino said breathlessly before tilting your head and pulling you in for a hungry kiss. You moaned into her mouth as you finally reached your orgasm, arching your back even more and trembling slightly. You rode out your orgasm on her strap, almost collapsing from how worn out you were, finally becoming aware of just how much sweat and spit you accumulated throughout the night.

And judging by the way Arlecchino pulled out of your gaping hole, only to push you against the mattress on your back and slinging your legs over her shoulders, it was far from over.

Perhaps you should talk to Childe more often.

A/n: wooooooo i hope you liked this anon this was really fun to write, but it is my first time writing smut like this so i apologize if i was lacking lol

#genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #arlecchino smut #arlecchino x reader #genshin arlecchino #afab reader

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turtletaubwrites · 3 months

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Numbers Game ~ Part 5

Numbers Game Masterlist

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1950

Ao3 Link

Summary: You're feeling overwhelmed. So overwhelmed. Mihawk and Crocodile make you an offer you can't refuse.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Alcohol, Swearing, Angst, Smut, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, Discussion of Sex, Manipulation, Humiliation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Guilt, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Reader is at her limit

A/N: I am unwell

“Let’s take this inside,” Mihawk commanded, setting his empty glass on the little round table.

He stood, pressing close enough beside you to make you dizzy with his heady cologne. He held out those long fingers, and you managed to take them without getting frozen under his gaze.

He lifted you easily, even wrapped up in Crocodile’s fur coat, like some heavy, decadent blanket.

Thankfully the coat covered your thighs, keeping you from rubbing skin against warm skin as he carried you with his chest bared.

He followed Crocodile through the hallway, the steady beat of their steps blending nicely with the sway you felt in the swordsman’s arms.

“Hmm, are you feeling tired, pet? Are we working you too hard?”

Jerking in his arms, you cringed as you realized what you’d done.

You had let your head fall gently as he carried you, resting in the crook of his neck.

His satisfied laughter vibrated around you, clawing into you.

You’d done everything you could to maintain what tiny bit of distance they allowed you.

But you were so warm. And he smelled so good.

He leaned over you as you neared the door, stopping as he breathed down against your temple.

“Maybe you should stop keeping yourself up so late.”

His evil whisper sent blood rushing to your face, and pulsing down to your core, and you couldn’t keep your body from clenching in his arms.

Why is he doing this to me?

“Give her here.”

“We’re almost inside.”

“I don’t care.”

You had your eyes closed as Mihawk sighed, handing you over to Crocodile before heading into the lounge.

At least that’s what you’d decided to call that stupid room.

The scarred man held you, waiting outside the door until you finally opened your eyes and looked up at him.

You couldn’t imagine him ever looking anything but frightening. His features were so harsh. His temper was hard for you to understand. He hadn’t seemed to care at all when he was threatening your life.

But you didn’t want to find out what would happen if you angered him.

He smells good too.

You clamped your eyes shut again in frustration, until his rough voice wrapped around you.

“Miss Y/N, are you feeling alright?”

You choked, gaping up at him.

“I–I…”

“Come, Crocodile. Let’s get our pet another glass of wine, and let her see the surprise.”

Crocodile let out a sigh, his warm breath on the top of your head as you kept yourself rigid.

I don’t want to be weak.

The thought itself felt pathetic, but you were too overwhelmed to deal with it right now. You kept your eyes closed, deciding to judge yourself later.

He sat you down, and you could feel your golden eyed torturer beside you.

Crocodile let you keep the coat underneath you, but ran his large hand over your calves and the tops of your feet as he set you down.

Mihawk hummed, somehow making that tiny sound seem judgemental.

“Take it.”

You opened your eyes just enough to see your lap, and Mihawk’s nimble fingers offering you a glass of wine.

You took it, letting out a heavy breath as you took a sip, deciding you wanted to keep your eyes closed forever.

Crocodile settled on your other side, stretching his arm across the back of the couch.

His arm around your shoulder made you sit straight up, your eyes finally opening, and you jolted.

“Bu–”

You cut yourself off this time, swallowing his name. But you had fallen forward in your seat, the wine sloshing in your glass.

Mihawk grabbed it instantly, as if spilling a single drop would be a crime.

Crocodile’s hand touched your shoulder gently, but firmly, pushing you back into the couch.

Buggy.

He was right there. Sitting in an actual chair instead of slumped against the wall.

The chair matched the couch, and he was close enough to prop his feet on the coffee table.

He was so close.

His crystal blue eyes searched yours, his face still covered in various shades of bruising, and faded paint.

But he was up. He wasn’t covered in blood. He even gave you a small, albeit strained smile.

“Our figurehead has earned the privilege of walking around and pretending to be important again,” Mihawk drawled, swirling your wine as he still held your glass.

“For now,” Crocodile huffed, his thumb rubbing along the back of your neck.

Buggy’s eyes flicked down to that large hand on your body, before shaking himself and putting on a smile.

“Come on, Crocodile! I work for you now, remember? Whatever you need, baby!”

Mihawk handed you the glass again, fingers grazing against yours too long, while Crocodile squeezed your shoulder gently.

Buggy seemed to look everywhere but you now.

“You’re gonna stay in line,” Crocodile growled, leaning forward, gesturing at Buggy with his hook.

“And you’re not gonna try to leave or call for help, or pull any more of your bullshit.”

Crocodile’s voice only got darker, rage in his words that made you hold your breath.

“Of c-course! Whatever you say, boss!”

Mihawk scoffed, then you felt his gaze shift to you. You met those amber eyes, and he touched your chin.

He spoke to Buggy, but kept his eyes, and his fingers, on you.

“Miss Y/N is one of our most valuable assets. We are allowing her to use her talents instead of wasting them as you did.”

You didn’t dare take your eyes off of Mihawk to look at Buggy.

Those fingers pressed into your jaw, just a bit, before he continued.

“Since she is so valuable, we are making it a priority to protect her. This means that no one may touch her without our permission.”

Crocodile ran his thumb over your neck again before cutting in.

“We live in a dangerous world, numbers girl. Stick with us, and we’ll keep you safe, alright?”

“Alright,” you choked out, agreeing to their threat.

“Good girl,” Mihawk purred, finally releasing you to turn your head. To look at Buggy.

He kept a pained smile on his face, and it made you ache.

So many mistakes led us here.

“You do understand our meaning, don’t you,” Mihawk drawled.

“M-Meaning,” he stuttered, shifting wide eyes to the swordsman.

Crocodile’s hook slammed on the coffee table, Mihawk sighing as he saved your glass of wine again.

“It means you don’t fucking touch her, clown.”

You couldn’t help the stinging tears now, but you wiped them away as fast as you could, your fingers shaking.

“Please…” your voice was small, and you hadn’t meant to speak.

“Don’t beg for him, sweetheart,” Crocodile’s voice came out almost soothing, as if there were any way you could feel comforted right now.

“He got you into this mess. But I promise you,” he said softly, touching your cheek with the back of his cold hook to turn you toward him. “Just keep being good for us, and you’ll have it all, sweetheart.”

He smiled. He smiled at you.

They’re crazy. I’m crazy.

The weight on the couch shifted behind you, until you felt Mihawk’s breath along the back of your neck. He traced his fingers along your arm as he left deep, raspy taunts in your ear.

“Isn’t this what you wanted, little rabbit? You wanted freedom from a boring life? Adventure? But you keep fighting it, don’t you? I wonder–”

“Give it a rest. You’re the one that keeps spooking her.”

You shivered between them, still wrapped up in their voices, under their light touches.

Mihawk sat back, a low chuckle aimed at Crocodile this time.

“Can’t you smell her? Our little rabbit is a little vixen, aren’t you?”

Smell me?

“You know, I thought the world’s greatest swordsman was supposed to be cool headed, intelligent. If I’d known you only think with your dick, I would have–”

Your breath hitched, eyes wide as you tried to stop existing.

“You act as if you haven’t been taking liberties yourself, Sand Man. You know Miss Y/N has been aching for us to take her since we made her ours. Isn’t that right, pet?”

Mihawk pulled you gently so you were facing forward again.

Facing Buggy.

“You’ve been such a good girl for us,” he purred, stroking your hair out of your face. “I think you deserve to get what you’ve been craving.”

He shifted to look at Crocodile, tapping his fingers impatiently on your knee.

“You did promise that we’d take care of our pet, hm?”

Crocodile shifted, letting out a deep breath before responding.

“I did promise that.”

His voice came out deep as he squeezed your shoulder again.

“You say the word when you’re ready, sweet girl. We’ll make you feel so good.”

Your body was humming, their gentle fingers and dangerous promises making you soak through your panties. You’d probably made a mess on Crocodile’s coat.

Your eyes were fluttering as you tried to control yourself.

And there was Buggy.

He was so close. He was watching their hands on you. He was watching you react like this, almost moaning, skin flushed as you felt dizzy from your need to say ��yes.’

“Mm, there’s the trouble,” Mihawk mused, taking a sip of wine before taking and massaging your hand.

“Our little rabbit is too sweet. Or too guilty. You don’t want to hurt this pathetic clown.”

You let out a tiny whimper, closing your eyes.

“Is that it, sweetheart,” Crocodile asked, his voice smooth, drawing you in. “You know he treated you like crap. Almost got you killed because he’s a fucking idiot. You don’t owe him a thing.”

“Don’t let him,” Mihawk purred in your ear, like a devil on your shoulder. “Don’t let him hold you back from what you want. Don’t let him hold you back from pleasure.”

You were rocking slightly, focusing on your breathing.

Focusing on not opening your legs, and begging them to fuck you.

“It’s alright, sweet girl,” Crocodile comforted again. “You know we’ll–”

“If he wasn’t in the room would you say yes? Do you feel bad for him?”

You met Buggy’s gaze, saw the sweat dripping down his face, his fists clenched on his knees.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. You felt electric, body on fire with need.

I would. I would say yes. Fuck.

“Let’s fix that,” Mihawk cleared his throat, lazily gesturing with his hand as his elbow rested on the armrest.

“Clown. You know that Miss Y/N is ours now. You know that she wants to be ours. If not tonight, then someday soon, she will let herself have what she craves. Do you know this?”

Buggy stopped looking at you, and you saw his lip twitch in a snarl. But he answered.

“Yes.”

Your stomach clenched, guilt rising again. Crocodile gave a low chuckle.

“So, when that happens, because it will happen,” Mihawk promised. And you couldn’t argue. You couldn’t take anymore of this. You’d go insane.

“When that happens, would you rather shove your fingers in your ears as her screams echo through the halls?”

You held in a whimper, Mihawk’s voice making your head spin.

“Or would you rather sit and watch while we fuck her into oblivion?”

Finally crying out, your head fell back for a moment, the desperate ache in your core almost painful now.

Buggy closed his eyes, the silence lasting too long for the men on the couch.

“Decide,” Crocodile growled, “or we’ll decide for you.”

Buggy’s voice came out low, too quiet to hear.

“Speak up, clown,” Crocodile threatened again.

Buggy met your eyes, his mouth hanging open with his ragged breaths.

“I’d rather watch.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: The brainrot is real. Send help

Part 6

#cross guild x reader #buggy x reader #mihawk x reader #crocodile x reader #reader Insert #fem!reader #one piece x reader #x reader #turtletaub fics #mine #one piece fanfic #buggy fanfiction #sir crocodile x reader #dracule mihawk x reader #smut #one piece smut #mihawk smut #sir crocodile smut #buggy smut

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a060403 · 5 months

Text

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: R18, smutt, afab!reader, female!receiving, male! receiving, unprotected p in v, explicit language, slapping, heavy smut, not proofread, long story head, grammatical errors, oneshot

✒ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐀/𝐍: Hello, I hope you enjoy this piece. I'm sorry for the grammatical errors ahead, English is not my first language but I do try to fix it.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐃𝐍𝐈!!!

The car pulled up to the grand entrance and she couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by its grandeur. Miguel stepped out of the car, looking as handsome as ever in his formal attire. He walked around to open the door for her, who gracefully exited the vehicle. Hand in hand, they both made their way towards the large double doors leading into their new home.

He pushed open one of the doors, revealing an opulent foyer with marble floors and a crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling. He chuckled softly as he took in the glory of their new home. “It's going to be great once we move everything in.”

“This is crazy.”

“Well, you might be right.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. “Come on, let me show you the rest of this place before it gets too dark outside.”

Miguel led the way upstairs, his long strides making it seem effortless. He unlocked a door and pushed it open, revealing a magnificent master bedroom. “This is where we'll be spending most of our time from now on.” Her mouth gaped in awe at the sight of what was inside. The walls were adorned with silk wallpaper in shades of deep gray and gold, creating an atmosphere of softness and sophistication. A king-sized bed dominated the center of the room, its minimalistic carvings adding to its modern appearance.

“This is our bedroom?” She asked, still unable to grasp how grand the whole room was. He smirked, stepping closer to her. “Want me to show you more?” His voice was low and seductive as he trailed a finger down her arm. “There's plenty more to see here.”

“What are you doing?” She turned around to face him and mimicked his voice. “Just taking my wife on a private tour of our new home.” His eyes drifted down to her lips before meeting hers. “This place may be big, but we can make it feel small if you let me in.”

She stared at him for a good second before bursting into laughter. “That was smooth.” A grin made its way to his lips as he pulled her closer, pressing his body against hers. “I try." He whispered in her ear, grazing his lips slightly on the side of her face. “So? What do you say, mi vida?”

“You mean bless the house?” She quirked an eyebrow at his suggestion, amused. “I was thinking more along the lines of showing you how much I appreciate having such an amazing wife to share this place with,” his hands moved up her sides, gently massaging her curves through her shirt. “But if that's what you want... I can compromise.”

She let out a giggle and claimed his lips. Her hands fell on his shirt, clutching onto it as he deepened the kiss. His tongue danced with hers as he continued to explore her body through her clothes. “You'll love every second of it.” His rough hands traveled down her chest and teased her nipple through her shirt before pulling away to trail kisses down her neck. He reached around to unzip her dress, the fabric falling effortlessly on the floor and left her naked.

His eyes darkened as he took in her naked form, his gaze fixed on her exposed cunt making his cock twitch in response. “Get on the bed. Now.” She laid down on the soft bed and spread her legs wide. She placed her hand on her sex and started playing with herself all while staring into his lust-filled eyes. “Did you miss this, Miggy?” She slid her two fingers across her folds to show him her hole. “Did you miss this pussy?”

His eyes locked onto her fingers as she played with herself, his mouth going dry. “Fucking tease.” He knelt between her legs and pulled her fingers away from her pussy before replacing them with his own. She fisted his hair when he latched his mouth onto her cunt, sucking hard on her wet nub while his fingers went in and out of her hole. “Oh my— fuck!”

His fingers curled inside her, seeking out and finding her g-spot. As he worked his magic on it with one hand, the other continued to pleasure her through her folds. “That's right. Moan for me, Y/N.” He hummed against her sensitive skin, sending shivers down her spine. “So beautiful.” His tongue darted out to tease her clit before diving back into her pussy as he began lapping up her juices greedily.

Her body shivered in pleasure as he lapped his tongue against her slick folds, giving her a taste of heaven. A wave of pleasure washed over her body and she ended up cumming in his mouth without warning. His tongue pushed deep inside her, drinking in every drop of her essence as she came apart under his touch. “So fucking beautiful.” He leaned up to capture her lips in a deep, possessive kiss that left them both breathless and wanting more.

She palmed the hard bulge in his pants while he tongued her down. “I wanna taste you.” His breath hitched at her words, his cock throbbing in anticipation. He pulled away from their kiss and helped her up into a sitting position before standing up himself. With one quick move, he rid himself of the remainder of his clothes, revealing his massive erection.

She couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the intensity of his musky scent. His thick cock stood tall and proud in front of her, beckoning for her attention. She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to its tip. Her tongue darted out eagerly as she began licking up every drop of his pre-cum that had pooled at the head of his cock. She took him deep into her mouth, sucking on him like a candy and eliciting a groan from his throat. Her hands reached around to caress his firm ass cheeks, encouraging him to push deeper into her waiting mouth.

With each passing moment, their passion only grew stronger. The once magnificent master bedroom now felt small and claustrophobic compared to the heat between them. As she took more of her husband's length into her mouth, she felt his girth press against the back of her throat. It threatened to choke her, but she powered through and swallowed him whole. His cock disappeared down her throat, hitting the base as she gagged lightly around it.

She looked up at him with hungry eyes that betrayed how much she craved this intimate connection between them. The slightest hint of pain only served to heighten her arousal as she felt every inch of his massive shaft slide past her tonsils and deep into her throat. Her throaty groans of pleasure echoed in the room as she took more and more of him into her mouth. Miguel's knees nearly buckled from the sensation. “Yes... right there baby.” He grabbed onto the wall behind him for support, his hips jerking forward with each deep thrust of her talented mouth.

Miguel's eyes rolled back into his head, losing himself in the sensation of her mouth sucking him dry. His hips bucked wildly as he unloaded everything he had inside of her. “Fuck! Y/N... you're killing me!” He pulled away abruptly, leaving her panting and wanting more. She sticks out her tongue to show him how well she did, his seed covered the entirety of her tongue's surface before swallowing it.

His eyes darkened at the sight of her show of submission, his hand finding its way to her throat. “I fucking love you.” He pulled her close and kissed her roughly tasting himself from her mouth. Y/N's heart raced as she assumed the position on all fours, presenting her wet and ready pussy to Miguel. She couldn't help but shudder when he licked his lips in anticipation, mirroring the same hunger that burned within her.

His first spank was hard enough to make her yelp out in surprise, followed by a gentle caress that only served to heighten the tension between them even further. Before she could catch her breath or gather her wits about her, another powerful slap resounded through the room – this one landing directly on her soaking wet cunt. The mixture of pain and pleasure that coursed through her body left her completely undone; she knew they were both going to break boundaries tonight.

His hand stung from the slap, but he didn't let it show. Instead, he took it as a sign that she was ready for him and positioned himself at her entrance. She braced herself for the inevitable pain that would come with such a large cock stretching out her tight cunt but then he began to push inside of her, and all thoughts flew from her mind as she succumbed completely to their primal urges. His thick shaft slowly disappeared into her depths, filling up every nook and cranny within her aching pussy. “Miguel— Oh my fuck!”

More of him slid home until finally, his hips met resistance against her ass cheeks. His mouth twitched at the sound of her voice breaking, but he didn't stop. He pushed deeper into her warmth with each thrust, grunting as she tightened around him. “Fuck... you feel so good,” he slapped her ass hard, and her eyes watered up at the sting. “So good, mi vida.”

Her screams of pleasure filled every corner of their enormous bedroom. He fisted her hair, bringing her back closer to his chest. Miguel growled into her hair, his cock pulsing inside of her as he came. His grip on her tightened as he buried himself as deep as possible. “Did so well for me, amor.” He pulled out and spilled the last drops onto her ass before collapsing next to her.

He gave a rough chuckle, tracing circles on her back. “Told you I can compromise.” His voice was raspy from their passionate encounter and his fingers continued their gentle caress as he stared up at the ceiling.

𝐀/𝐍: I do not own any of the pictures and are solely from Pinterest.

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deanbrainrotwritings · 4 months

Text

— LOVE FROM THE OTHER SIDE

SUMMARY : dean’s got an embarrassing fear of flying. at least there’s something to keep him mind of turbulence and the possibility of the plane crashing and everyone dying.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), p in v, spanking, unprotected sex, rough sex, public sex, quickie, degradation, cream pie, oral sex (f. receiving), exhibition kink, sir kink

WORD COUNT : 1.5k

A/N : fall out boy song title. @spnkinkevents : #12daysofspnkinkmas2023 — mile high club. this is funny bc I’m scared of flying as well Xxxx

“Sir,” a woman’s voice made Dean turn around quickly, “is everything okay?” He smiled nervously down at the stewardess, subtly checking her out from head to toe—even in the middle of a panic attack.

“Yeah, uh,” he looked around and anxiously cleaned sweat off his palms with his jeans. “I’m just a, uh, nervous flyer,” he admitted with a sheepish smile. She gave him a sympathetic one in return.

“Is there anything I can do to help make your flight a little more comfortable?” She asked, looking at him earnestly.

“Uh, c’mere,” he told her, waving her towards him.

“Sure,” she smiled, stepping close to him. She let him lean down to her ear, trying to hold back the shiver his breath against her neck caused to run over her body, her nipples tightening against the white button up she wore beneath the blue blazer.

“Can you let me fuck you?” He whispered boldly, letting her pull back in surprise. “I’ve been watchin’ you stare at me since I boarded with my brother with fuck-me eyes,” he explained quietly, toying with the red scarf around her neck. She blushed, looking down at her black heels, then glanced up at him again. “You’ve got one hell of an ass. I’m pretty sure that cute little sway of your hips is ‘cause you wanna be pounded into.”

She gasped and gaped up at him, wetness pooling between her legs, heat blooming in her stomach.

“Only if you say yes,” he reminded her softly, fiddling with her white name tag. She looked around the dark cabin and took his wrist when no one was looking, to drag him towards the vacant restroom. Dean laughed quietly behind her, dismissing her glare and the tightening of her grip on his wrist.

Once she was inside with Dean, she flipped the light on with her wrist, and Dean closed the door behind him, squeezing inside. She took a few paper towels to place them on the counter, watching Dean through the mirror as he watched her.

“Name’s Dean, by the way,” he smirked, moving her hair to the side to kiss her neck slowly. She hummed softly and gave him her name in return, unbuttoning her blazer and the white dress shirt while Dean stood behind, following her every move.

“You’ve got some perfect tits, sweetheart,” he murmured, staring at her reflection as he unbuckled his belt, popped the metal button, and unzipped his jeans. She bit her lip seductively and bent herself over the counter to lift her skirt over her ass. “Fuck,” he moaned quietly, staring down at her panty-less ass, a garter holding her sheer thigh-highs.

“You’re such a sexy little slut,” he chuckled, slapping her ass hard. She yelped and shushed him, pushing her ass back into his covered cock. He kneaded the reddened flesh of her cheek, using his freehand to lower his boxers, taking his cock at the base.

She looked back over her shoulder and bit her lip at the size of him, her pussy dripping down her thighs, walls clenching around nothing.

“I’m so lucky,” she grinned up at him, licking her lips.

“So am I.” He pulled her hips out more, lewdly eyeing her wet hole before dragging his leaking cock through her folds. He released his cock, moving his hips forward and back, coating his cock in her slick. “Wet… so fucking wet... Needy little whore,” he moaned, his hands drifting up to the front of her body to cup her breasts.

“Fuck,” she whispered, arching her back. She reached back with one hand to bury her fingers in his short hair, and reached down with the other hand to press his cock closer to her cunt, staring right into his eyes as he panted in her ear. “Can you cum inside me, Dean?” She asked, rolling her hips with him, whining quietly as he growled in her ear, pinching her nipples harshly.

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he grunted, moving faster, “I’ll fill that needy little hole of yours and fuck you as hard as you want…” he breathed, then pulled back slightly, his soft cockhead nudging at her fluttering entrance.

“Please, Dean, I need your cock so bad,” she moaned, swivelling her hip before biting down hard on her lip. He thrusted into her swiftly, a strangled moan getting muffled by the press of her cherry lips.

“Perfect tits… and a sweet little cunt…” Dean groaned while thrusting into her roughly, grabbing her shirts, he pulled them back down her shoulders, forcing her hands together behind her back.

“You haven’t tasted me,” she panted, squeezing his cock tightly inside her at the thought of having his gorgeous face buried between her thighs.

“Well, if you find me again, tell me,” he offered, before licking two of his fingers. He brought them over to her nipple, staring at her reaction the entire time, her pussy fluttering once more before he brought his fingers to her clit. “You know, if I could, I’d make you ride my cock in front of all those people,” he said quietly, massaging her swollen clit.

“Shit,” she hissed, letting him use her for his pleasure. He found her breast again with his unbusy hand, squeezing the flesh harshly as it bounced with every merciless thrust of his hips. “You should…” she gasped, pressing her legs tightly together. “You should eat my pussy in the seats while everyone’s asleep,” she smirked, licking her lips.

Dean groaned into her hair, pushing her roughly into the counter to fuck her with abandon until they both climaxed.

“Oh, fuck,” she moaned loudly, cumming hard on his cock when he came inside her. He fucked her hard and deep, filling her loud, soppy pussy with his cum before slowly stopping. He dropped kisses along her shoulders and lifted both of his hands to her breasts to tease her nipples.

“That was awesome,” he murmured, meeting her lips for a sweet kiss. She wiggled in his arms, panting against his mouth, silently asking for him to let her go, which he did.

He pulled his cock out of her, lifting her shirts back over her shoulders before leaning against the far end of the small space to stare at her pussy as it leaked their release.

“So… still nervous?” She asked, lowering her skirt much to his disappointment. He started to lift his pants and he snorted at her question as they both attempted to make themselves presentable again.

“‘Course I am.”

She stared at him through the mirror as she scandalously suggested: “then eat me out in the seat. Sammy’s asleep, he’s listening to Celine Dion, everyone else was asleep before we came in here, and even if they aren’t asleep, I bet they’d love the show.”

Dean inhaled sharply at her words and closed the space between them once more, circling his arm around her waist. He kissed her senseless and undid the scarf around her neck.

“You really are… so slutty,” he grinned against her mouth, using the scarf to clean up the mess between her legs. He pecked her lips and they cleaned everything else up quickly before heading out. She looked like a hot teacher now, with her hair a mess, the white dress shirt—a size smaller than her usual size—fitting tightly against her breasts. He feared the buttons might snap, so he gave her his flannel.

He let her out first and then he took a deep breath, washing his hands with soap. He used the wet paper towel to open the door and kept it open with his boot to throw it inside the bin before releasing the door, and meeting his girlfriend back in their seats.

He looked around the cabin. Everyone was most definitely asleep near their area, a couple were watching a movie in the front, a man typed away doing work in the back, and some lady was relaxing as she scrolled through animal videos.

When Dean got to his seat, Sam was pressed into the shut window of the aeroplane with a pillow around his neck—asleep, earphones on, phone in his pocket. Y/n was on her phone, too, getting a playlist ready, but Dean stiffly sat down next to her.

“Babe,” she murmured, cackling quietly when she saw Dean looking panicked once more. “Let’s watch something?” She offered, setting her phone over her lap to give her lover her full attention. Dean shook his head and placed his hand between her legs, pushing her legs open.

She’d placed his flannel around her waist and she stared at him in disbelief, looking over at the sleeping people down the aisle. His wide, green eyes implored for her compliance, and she sighed, untying his flannel from her body.

“The things I do for love,” she muttered playfully, careful not to disturb Sam as she unbuttoned the top buttons of her shirt, allowing her breasts to spill out again. Dean watched her bunch the skirt up, one leg on the seat, the other on the floor, whimpering quietly at the sight of her glistening folds. “Go ahead,” she encouraged, bringing him down by the collar of his shirt, he stared up at her, “show me what your pretty mouth does, sir.”

taglist

@rominaszh @livingdeadmak @lanassmarty @murdockscumsock @zepskies @candy-coated-misery0731 @stxrgazer03 @epsilonsagittarii @lyarr24 @spnfamily-j2 @globetrotter28 @deansbbyx @lickmybawls @jackles010378 @winchstrdean @deanwinchestersgirl87 @the-achievementhunter @deanfreakingwinchester @k-slla @madzzz0797 @laylaackles @fanfic-n-tabulous @kristophalis @mrlonelycat @taylortots-world @evznackles

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do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or republish my work on another platform

#12daysofspnkinkmas2023 #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x you #dean x female!reader #dean x y/n #dean winchester x you #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfiction

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kiritella · 8 months

Text

Series: Sehnsucht: Chapter One, Seven Year Debts

Pairings: Geralt x Teen!Reader, Yennefer x Teen!Reader

Warnings: Blood, death, injuries, monsters

Words: 2.8k

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

—Seven Years Ago—

The rain puttered around her, and her lungs burned with a violent ache. She ran, blindly and confused, and lacking all direction. Her small legs could not take her very fast, not nearly as much as she would have wanted, for it was already night. The moonlight filtered through the heavy canopy of leaves above her, but it was not nearly enough with the cloudy skies. It was dark.

Her small feet, even calloused, hurt as she stumbled over thick roots and sharp stones, briars and thorns. It didn’t hurt nearly as much as her back, though, so she hardly paid them any mind. The blood soaking through her torn nightgown was still warm, fresh from the gaping cuts splitting her back open. The burn in her left shoulder was violent and continued even to her bones.

Everything hurts, she thought, and even as she did, she tripped and fell, landing face first into the moist ground. She let out a sharp cry.

“It will be alright…” the voice from earlier said in her thoughts, deep and gravely like stone.

“No one is here,” she sobbed, clutching her dagger in her hands as a wolf’s howl pierced the air. She shivered in fright. Crawling, she curled up against a tree, her body sinking into it as she begged it to open up and swallow her whole. The bark dug into the long gashes along her spine, and poked into the burn on her shoulder.

Valeska had said to go east, that someone might be here and would take her in when she had strapped the dagger to her waist. Soft, dreadful whispers. The leather band was too large for her, and the blade seemed as though it was half her size. She had the decency to wipe her tears, but not enough to try and stop the barrage of rotten food being tossed at her. Still, she was grateful then…but it seemed for naught.

“No…they aren’t,” the voice said regretfully. “But you will be alright.”

“The wolves—”

“They will not hurt you,” he assured. “You should rest, little keeper. I know it hurts…” he said, and his voice seemed mournful. “But in time, it will pass. I will guard you tonight, so rest…”

Despite his reassurances, the little girl was unable to sleep much that night. It wasn’t her first night alone, not the first time she had curled against the pain, back drenched in her own blood. Yet, with the mark burned into her back, the smell of rotten food caked in her hair from the people she had once longed for the approval of, the press of her father’s hand shoving her toward her demise…her mother’s silence…everything was different. On this painful and agonizing night, everything changed.

—Currently—

It was the sound of a groan that drew her to him. Her footsteps were light on the forest floor as she followed the sound over a hill, hardly making a sound louder than the rustling of leaves in the wind. Even the snow beneath her frozen feet would not give any announcement of her presence. Hesitant and careful, she approached the peak of a short, sharp drop above a cave. A ghoul’s cave, more accurately. When a light breeze stirred, she retched silently. Snatching the tattered, red scarf from her neck, she wrapped it around her face to guard her senses from the scent of rotting flesh mixed up by the air. She drew closer to the pained groans, carefully descending the rocky face of the mountain. She cursed herself for even trying to look.

It was more likely a Ghoul than anything else.

Unfortunately, as she peeked around the edge of the high ground she knelt on, she realized it was both. The bodies of several ghouls either laid with their heads detached from their bodies, their throats slit, or their chests looking strangely caved in. A camp of dead men—villagers from the base of the mountain, she realized—sat decomposing and partly consumed about the region. An arm here, a leg there. That would account for the smell.

Another man also laid amongst the dead, only this one, to her surprise, moved. But as she peeked a bit closer, his features began to take shape, and with them, her breath was taken quickly from her lungs. Geralt.

Glancing about the region, she saw no one else, and with a hand on the hilt of the sword on her waist, she scrambled down the rockside and into the small valley in front of the cave. Her eyes scanned the dead bodies as she passed, ready for any of them to even twitch. They didn’t, and not even a mangled groan came from the cave. He must have taken care of all of them. She hurried toward Geralt, but when he perked up suddenly, his golden eyes pierced through her, she slowed.

“Who are you?” he asked sharply, straining as he sat up further against the tree. Sweat beaded along his hairline, sinking into his white hair as he blinked quickly. His hand clenched the hilt of his sword, and as she noted this, she also found the red, gnarly bite on his wrist. Her heart sank.

“You look a bit young to be a murderer,” he said, and she furrowed her brow. She held her hands up in surrender as she came closer, but now that she had, she could see it. The dead men laid about had not been bitten and torn. Their necks or chests had been cleanly cut, and they had bled out. Oh…

She shook her head quickly.

“Not here to finish me off?” he asked with a pained grunt. “You fucking bastards hired me.”

She shook her head once more, and then pointed at his arm—the bite—and began to fumble with the satchel on her hip. Slowly, so he could see her movements, she pulled out a long rag and a vial. Once more, she crept closer.

He scoffed, weakly waving his hand away. She shook her head, and stubbornly turned, walked over to one of the dead bodies, and lightly kicked it. She looked at him, pointed at the corpse, shook her head, then held up the medical supplies. Perhaps she would ask the dead body for forgiveness later, but from what she could gather, they had attacked Geralt once he had finished his job with the ghouls. For that, she didn’t have much love for the rotting sack of flesh, so forgiveness wasn’t something she was desperately looking for.

Geralt furrowed his brow as she pushed back the hood of her cloak, revealing her appearance. His horse snorted off behind the tree, stamping her foot. She cocked her head to the side, and perhaps the beast would have been a little more frightening if it wasn’t so protective of its master. As for Geralt, it might have been years since she had last seen him, memories diluted with a child’s admiration, but she knew he was no threat to someone who did not pose a threat to him.

Slowly, she unsheathed her sword and dagger and tossed them to the side. Again, she crept closer, as if approaching a scorpion and her hands held up. With a short nod and a mistrustful glare from him, she knelt at his side. At the very least, he did not press the edge of his sword to her throat. That was a good sign. Quickly now, she wrapped the bandage around his forearm, a little ways above the ghoul’s bite seeping venom into his bloodstream, and then tightened it as much as she could. She locked it in place with a sturdy stick, limiting the blood flow. She wouldn’t be able to leave it on for long at risk of permanent damage.

“A tourniquet won’t—”

She grabbed the vial she showed him earlier and bit off the cork, pouring the green contents over the bite. The scent of alcohol and mixed herbs overpowered the smell of blood for a moment. Geralt grit his teeth as the medicine seeped over the wound and burned, white foam bubbling within it as it reacted and drew out the venom. He groaned.

When he tried to speak, it came out slurred, and she looked up sharply to find his head lolling to the side. She slapped him.

His eyes shot open, a hard glare set on her as his brow furrowed. “Fuck—my vials.”

Fumbling about him, she found several, a few in his satchel and hanging on his waist. Several were broken, and of the ones that weren’t, she held them up, only for him to shake his head. She held up the broken ones, and when he plucked one from her hands, fumbling with it, he paled. He tossed it away with a frustrated grunt.

“I need—” he started, saying the same phrase over again as his tongue, she assumed, was becoming heavy. “Vesemir.”

Well, at least she had a name to start with, but given that she didn’t have a single fucking clue who that was, she didn’t see how she could help. Frustrated, she threaded her fingers through her hair, stopping abruptly as they caught on a thick matt.

She knew the basics of medicine, but a ghoul’s venom was nothing to joke about, and certainly beyond her league. What she had given him was typically used to draw out snake venom, slow the effects, not nearly capable of fighting something as potent as ghoul’s venom. On top of that, he was a Witcher. She didn’t know if normal medicine would work on his mutated body, or even what doses to give him.

Grinding her teeth together, she stood up to her feet and made her way toward the horse. The poor beast was frightened, her black mane damp with sweat, hooves stomping into the dusted snow as she shifted nervously. It took a good minute to be able to calm her down, but at last the girl was able to grab her reins and settle her. She found what she was looking for in one of the saddle bags, and took it back to Geralt, laying the parchment map across his legs.

When his eyes didn’t open, she pressed her thumb into the gaping bite. He wrenched his arm from her grip, though barely, and cursed.

“Stop doing that!” he snapped.

Stay awake then, she thought, but said nothing. Instead, she gestured to the map. He hesitated, untrusting eyes on her before shifting back to the paper. He was wasting time. She grasped his wrist and shook it in front of his eyes, emphasizing the wound and then released it. His arm fell back into the snow as dead weight, and she knew he was losing feeling in it. If he wanted her to get this Vesemir, he needed to tell her where he was.

It was only after several more contemplative moments Geralt pointed to the map. His finger laid on the outlined Blue Mountains north of Ban Ard by the Lixela River where they were currently. Then, he traced west to the mountain’s base, then up the edge north until he reached the Gwenllech River. Following this river upstream into the mountains once more, he stopped, tapped twice, and grunted.

“You’ll cross here,” he said, “the river will be shallow. Be mindful of the white stones.”

She nodded, and he continued.

“Follow the mountain pass, there’s—damnit—” he cursed, straining as red lines on his forearm flared and a new expulsion of white foam poured from the bite. The medicine was working at least. She sighed in relief.

When he had taken a moment, he continued. “There will be a gap in the granite wall. A gorge, it opens to a ravine, then to a valley. Don’t follow the path, go into the woods. Follow the stream—” he grimaced and groaned, letting his head fall back against the tree. “This is pointless, you’ll never even find the gap.”

She slapped him again and the amount of shock on his face was comical. She smiled, but it appeared more gangly and grim than she intended. The path was difficult, but she had help, so she was certain she would get him there. Again, she pointed to the map.

“It’s Kaer Morhen,” he slurred and she nodded. “A castle. Doesn’t look much like one anymore.”

“Alright,” she said, and he narrowed his eyes. He shook his head with a light chuckle as it lulled to the side.

“I thought you were mute,” he said. Blinking as if she hadn’t thought of that, she smiled crookedly and rolled up the map, tucking it into the belt on her waistline. Picking up his sword, she fumbled in her satchel and pulled out a rag, cleaning off the remnants of blood before helping him sheath it back in its place. He seemed curious, but didn’t say anything about it.

As she gathered up her own weapons again and readied the horse, he spoke again.

“I’ll drift in and out of consciousness, and probably say some things,” he said and she hummed to let him know she was listening as she adjusted the stirrup lengths on the saddle. “A handful of days at best before I’m dead.”

That was impressive. How he intended to survive for five days was something she would try and ask later, maybe…perhaps. Most would be dead much quicker than that, after all.

She hummed again and led the horse by the reins, taking her beside Geralt. He looked up with weary eyes and sweat beading in his hairline. His brows furrowed as he thought.

Ah…this was going to be difficult. Geralt huffed as he attempted to get to his feet. He managed pretty far, much more than she had anticipated, but alas, he could get to his knees and lean against the tree on one foot, but from there he was stuck. Fidgeting with her fingers, she shuffled on her feet and crept closer.

He grunted. “Unless you happen to be a competent teenage sorceress, I don’t think you can help me get on the horse.”

She chuckled, and it swiftly turned into a soft laugh. She knelt beside him and placed her hand into the snow, sinking beneath the ice and into the dirt. Whispering beneath her breath, she laid out an incantation into the earth. The trees swayed with the sound of her soft voice, the soil turning beneath them as if embraced by an old friend. Carefully, the ground Geralt knelt on lifted him up and thick roots stretched out to steady him.

“Well…shit,” he said, seemingly amused. “Easy, Roach.”

She stood and eased the horse—apparently named Roach, to her amusement— holding the reins as she shifted to allow Geralt, now at the same level as the saddle, to slide on. The roots remained to steady him as the dirt eased back into its rightful place.

“I don’t suppose you know how to make a portal?” he asked as she hopped into the saddle. It must have been a rather amusing sight, a small teenager in the main seat with Geralt behind her.

She shook her head. Stretching out her hand, a posy of vines grew and wound around Geralt and the saddle, binding his unsteady frame at least in a somewhat stable position. She needed him secure against her back if he was going to fall unconscious randomly throughout their journey. And she wasn’t wrong.

He was unconscious within the next few minutes, bodying going lax so suddenly she had to pull the horse to a stop and scramble to gather her balance. With more vines wrapping around them, and pulling Geralt’s arms around her and binding them to the saddle’s horn, his weight was now firmly set against her back. And finally settled, she set out quickly.

“Don’t follow the path he showed you,” a long-since familiar voice said in her thoughts. “Go northeast and follow the Lixela up through the mountains. It will be quicker.”

“Are you sure, D’ao?”

“Do not worry, if Kaer Morhen is where he says it is, I will get you there.”

She swallowed thickly as she adjusted course and Roach’s canter broke into a swift and steady gallop. She had to shake her head as memories began to sink into her thoughts. The Drowner, gangly limbs and pale eyes, sharp teeth by the river. The hiss of a sword and golden eyes, white hair, and a wolf captured in silver. A kind, gentle hand. The village, the fear, the pain—unbearable pain. She shivered. Chaos.

She breathed in heavily as the trees whizzed by around her, shaking the scent of blood and rotten food from her senses. Determination took its place. She would get Geralt to Kaer Morhen—alive—and if the world hated her for once again helping a Witcher, she would laugh as they set fire to her pyre and burn the monster they created.

The ten year old child she once was owed him that.

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

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fatale-distraction · 5 months

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I am pleased to regret to inform you all that I have joined the legion of spiderfuckers

This is Qilué (Key-lew-ay) and she can and WILL MAKE HIM WORSE FIX HIM

Here’s an incomplete unedited excerpt from some writing I did today for them.

~~~~

"Can you remove Lolth's influence from one of her creatures?" The priestess drew herself up to her full height. "Of course we can, child. It is one of Eilistrae'e's greatest joys and blessings to relieve the oppressed of that dark mantle." "Save your flowery language. This one might be a bit more of a challenge than you anticipate," she warned. "Astarion, would you...?" "Oh, gladly," he smirked. "I can't wait to see the looks on your faces," he said in a loud aside to the clerics clustered nearby, who scoffed and rolled their eyes and muttered amongst themselves. "I'm certain we're up to the task, my dear," the priestess condescended gently. "We--" The room fell entirely silent as the sound of long, sharp talons clacked and scraped against the marble floors. Confused and wary glances were exchanged, and hands moved in the quick drow sign language. Astarion shouldered the door open and stood aside with a flourish to permit Kar'niss to claw his way into the temple. A long cloak of indistinguishable color covered his head and body, but it was impossible to hide the eight massive, spiked arachnid legs or the bulbous abdomen and armored thorax they supported. Silence continued as he settled himself behind Qilué and cast a curious glance around, his secondary eyes blinking out of sync. An acolyte near the effigy in the back of the temple let a copper offering plate slip from his fingers. It crashed to the floor and rolled noisily across the room. Kar'niss' seven eyes followed its path with vague interest. The painfully long journey that culiminated in an agonizing clatter as it took its time settling, stretching on and on until at last Astarion huffed in exasperation and stomped on it to silence the tinny metal cacophony. After another beat a cleric passed dead out and hit the floor with a heavy thud. The priestess was all but gaping, her eyes wide.

"That's a drider," she wheezed. "Yes, most of us have reached that conclusion," snipped Astarion. "His name is Kar'niss," Qilué bit out. "Can you do it?" She placed a loving hand on Kar'niss' pale arm. His head slowly turned toward her, every eye unblinking and focused tenderly on her presence. The priestess flicked her gaze between the two and swallowed. She pushed her sleeves up and fixed a game expression on her face. "We can certainly try," she said, a slight tremble in her throat belying her confidence. "I've never done it before, nor have I heard of it being performed, but Eilistrae'e’s mercy is vast...I can't undo what has already been done," she added softly after a pause. "My powers cannot reform him into the man he once was, but it may be possible to at least free him of that which binds him to the Spider Queen." "That's all I can ask for," Qilué replied, not removing her gaze from his. The urge to kiss him was powerful, but they already had one unconcious drow in the room. Kissing a drider might take several more down, and they needed all the help they could get. Kar'niss, unfortunately had other ideas and bent to nuzzle at her nape, that affectionate purr rumbling in his throat, his arms and two legs circling her waist to draw her close. "Not now, Kar'niss," she hissed, pushing feebly back at him. That only caused him to begin dragging his teeth down her neck, his hands cupping at her waist and hips as two more legs surrounded her. Astarion burst out laughing as another cleric fainted and Qilué pushed back harder, scolding the drider three times her size. The priestess mopped her brow. "Yes, well," she cleared her throat. "That's...quite interesting. I...need a moment--WE need a moment, to prepare, that is." "You mean recover," guffawed Astarion as Qilué finally won her struggle against the over-affectionate drider, who hissed moodily and mumbled something violent under his breath.

#karniss #kar’niss #drider #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldur’s gate 3 fanfiction

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thesistersarcheron · 7 months

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Pairing: Feysand Word Count: ~2.5k Tags: AU - No Amarantha, Human Feyre Archeron x Fae Rhysand, Attempted Kidnapping, Dubious Consent - Dream Sex, Dreams and Nightmares Summary: Five times the High Lord of the Night Court tries to lure his human mate across the wall and the one time she hunts him instead. (Based on this prompt from deepwaterwritingprompts: Sometimes in the dead of night on the way to the kitchen for a glass of water, I see an extra door in the hallway, black and imposing.)

Read this fic on AO3!

The bed was warm, for once.

And for once, Feyre allowed herself a moment to luxuriate in that warmth. She came awake slowly, gently, enjoying the toasty feelings of her toes in soft socks and her nose pressed into her pillow. Even the weight of Elain against her back couldn’t bother her when she was snug in the rare, precious embrace of such comfort.

Usually, she woke up with her extremities aching with the chill that seeped into the cottage overnight, but this morning...

With her eyes still closed, she stretched, issuing a soft, content sigh. In a moment, she would have to rise to hunt, to brave the cold, but right now the sheets were softer than ever, the mattress plush beneath her hip, and her thin, lumpy pillow was plump and cool as a cloud beneath her cheek.

The sound or the movement must have woken her sister, because the bed shifted, and a warm face tucked itself into the crook of her neck as an arm encircled her waist.

Feyre grumbled, shoving at Elain. “G’off of me.”

“Shh, love. You were having a nightmare.”

No.

Feyre froze.

A man. That was a man’s voice, and—

The hand on her hip, stroking her skin where her nightgown had ridden up in the night, was too large and too calloused to be Elain.

Oh gods. Oh gods.

Feyre’s stomach made a sickening impact on the floor, and her heart leapt into her throat with such speed, such force, that it nearly strangled her.

She had to force herself to keep breathing.

To open her eyes.

The man behind her made a small warning sound low in his throat. She ignored it.

And darkness so black and so complete that it blanketed her vision pressed in on her, heavy and oppressive—but, in the corner of her eye, the smallest shaft of moonlight illuminated a flash of viridian scales and reaching hands.

Scales that were gone in an instant, swallowed by more of that darkness, but the unmistakable rasp of reptilian skin against the unfinished wood floor of the bedroom she shared with her sisters shattered her terrified silence.

Sticky, sap-thick dread trickled down her throat, collecting in the pit of her belly.

“Close your eyes,” the man crooned. “Don’t look. It’s a nightmare. It will be over soon.”

Feyre opened her mouth, and only a strangled, terrified noise came out. Over? How could it be over when he was still behind her and her sisters—

Where were her sisters?

She swallowed hard, finding her voice again as her hand curled around the man’s wrist. She held it as tightly as she could in her shaking grasp. “Who are you?”

The darkness broke for a moment, and again she caught a glimpse of slithering, scaled beasts with gaping maws and voids for eyes—

The man ignored her question and clicked his tongue.

“What on earth have you been reading before bed, darling?” Humor and concern warred in his tone.

As if Feyre’s grip were no more than cobwebs, his hand continued its path across her skin until it lay flat against her belly, drawing her back against the warm, firm body behind her.

Strong legs encased in soft fabric tangled with her own, and chills erupted in the wake of the hot breath that grazed the nape of her neck, the nose that buried itself in her hair and took a deep, greedy breath. Just enough light crept into the room for Feyre to gape at the long, inhuman limb that curved around her, in front of her, all leathery membrane and slim, delicate boning, to block the horrors in her room from view.

The wing of a bat, multiplied in size a thousand times, just as terrible as the beasts beyond it.

Feyre felt dizzy, panic blurring the edges of her vision as she stared at the visible veining of that membrane, that wing. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think—

“Just a nightmare, Feyre,” the man murmured. Soft lips followed the trail his breath had blazed, trailing kisses along the column of her neck. Sharp teeth nipped at her ear, another gentle breath breezing along the shell of it, and she shivered despite herself, her pulse thrumming hard between her thighs. “Let’s make this dream sweeter, shall we?”

That rush of pleasure was the first she’d felt in months, and it nearly drowned out her fear.

But not entirely. Not so much that Feyre couldn’t dig her nails into his skin, as hard as she could, and prepared to launch herself from the mattress, waiting beasts be damned.

“What did you do to my sisters?”

“No, no, none of that.” The hand on her belly flexed, so broad from thumb to pinky that it spanned the width from her navel to the fraying top of her undergarments. “I told you: this is just a dream, unfortunately. Your family is safe in the waking world.”

As if from very far away, her distant thoughts whispered, Just a dream. Just a dream. Just a wonderful dream.

“What do you want, darling? How can I make this night better for you?” the man asked. Beyond her thoughts, in the far reaches of consciousness, she felt herself relax into him again. The warmth of the bed they shared poured over her, the beloved scent of the sea and the lemon groves filling her senses, and the softness of her socks against her skin once again became the most prominent sensation in her mind as the body behind her shifted from a threat to something else. Something different, something… safe.

It was so alien a feeling to Feyre that words would not come to her. Suddenly, sophisticated thought was impossible. Her entire mind, her entire world, hand narrowed to the five small points of contact of each fingertip grazing her skin, the length she now felt nestled against her ass, getting harder, and the anticipation rising in her own body.

It was just a dream, and for once, she had warmth and a bed and time to spare. This didn’t have to be a hard, rushed tumble amongst the hay in a barn. This could be anything she wanted.

She loosened her grip on his wrist, testing the softness of his skin beneath her fingers.

Skin, not scales. Soft, hot skin.

But in front of her, as if in response, the wing rustled, and a sick shudder shot down her spine. This wasn’t normal—or maybe it was. She couldn’t remember.

She almost reached out to that wing to test whether the membrane was as delicate as it looked, but she fisted her free hand in the pillow beneath her head instead.

Idle strokes of his fingertips guided his hand further down her stomach, igniting the skin beneath it.

“What do you want?” her unseen bed partner asked again, the tip of his nose caressing the arch of her neck. Another kiss landed on her bare shoulder, painfully soft, and her back arched, that touch stoking the embers flaring to life in the pit of her belly.

What did she want? Such a hard question to answer as the whitewater rush of fear gradually slowed into the lazy, dreamy current of sleep.

“I want this,” she heard herself mumble, her voice once again thick with the exhaustion that had dragged her under when she first laid down to sleep. Trapped in the brutally honest space between waking and dreaming. “I need this.”

“You need it?” Alarm bells tolled in her mind, warning her that this was a leading question, a dangerous question, but she ignored them. His other arm shifted beneath her, drawing up the hem of her nightgown and locking her into his embrace, and then a warm palm cupped her breast.

Feyre gasped as he tested its weight, rolling the peaked tip of her nipple between his first and second finger. He pinched her, and that jolt of pleasure shot to her core. Her hips rolled, pushing her ass into the cradle of his hips.

All the forgotten gods, he touched her like he knew her already.

“Yes,” she moaned, hoarse and needy, as his hand dipped beneath the cotton between her legs.

With one hand, he worked her breast, kneading and pinching in time with the unsteady beat of her heart, and with the other…

“I need it, too,” he growled.

The first slide of his fingers through the slick center of her should have filled Feyre with shame. The easy way he found her clit and teased it in slow, luxurious circles, laughing wickedly over her shoulder when she bucked and loosed a little cry for him, should have drowned out the hot flood of lust that threatened to consume her. The way his length pulsed against her backside should have disgusted her instead of setting her aflame.

She knew this was no man. She knew this was no ordinary dream.

But he pressed one finger into her, then two, the delicious stretch nearly driving her out of her mind. And then he crooked those fingers, pressing the heel of his palm where she needed it most as he played her body expertly, and Feyre couldn’t help the way she scrunched her eyes shut, focused only on the pleasure between her legs, at her breast, against her mouth as she blindly tipped her face back so he could press his lips to hers, licking into her, drinking from her like a desperate, parched male seconds away from dying of thirst…

“Go through the door, Feyre darling,” he panted when he broke the kiss. “Come and meet me. I can give you all of this and more.”

“No,” Feyre choked, trapped between desire and terror. She opened her eyes, and the darkness surrounded her again, the black somehow warmer this time. Welcoming. Soothing.

“It’s safe, love, I swear it. No more nightmares. I’m here, aren’t I?” He huffed a laugh against her mouth, and this time it sounded dry, chagrined. Resigned, even as he drew her closer and closer to her climax, as he rocked his arousal against her again and again. “But not for long. Dawn is coming.”

“I can’t—“

“You can.”

A third finger joined the first two, filling her to the brink of the sweetest pain she’d ever felt, and with more hard pull, wave after wave of pleasure cascaded over Feyre, locking her body in its grip.

The world itself fell out from under her, this release unlike any she had ever known or felt—by her own hands or any other’s. It tore her apart, remade her, filled all the hairline fractures in her soul with molten gold. That same gold snapped like the crack of a whip against her racing heart, a thread of it winding through her ribs until it was so tangled she would never free herself, every glowing fiber thrumming with wanting, wanting, wanting…

Centuries upon centuries of wanting.

Through it all, he cradled her in his palms, even as she cried out and sobbed, overwhelmed, even as the hazy edges of her dream sharpened and the feeling of his touch faded.

She was still shaking, still gasping for breath, when he spoke again. His voice was distant, fading just as fast as the soft bed and the embrace of his darkness, as it whispered to her across the ocean between dream and wakefulness, “Open your dreams to me, love, and I will pluck every star out of the sky to make your ring.”

When Feyre crept out of her bedroom, the fire in the hearth had already died, and the night beyond the cottage’s window was icy and dark, flecked with heavy clouds that threatened to release a suffocating deluge of snow.

Beyond it, the black sky was starless. Empty.

But the door on the opposite wall was warm, lit from within.

It was simple—a single panel of glossy cherrywood with an elegant knob of brass and cut crystal. It was not unlike the doors she’d once seen in the homes of her father’s clients, the few times she had been invited along to those manors and townhouses to charm potential investors.

And it had already been cracked—waiting, expectant—when she turned to stare at it, her shaky legs depositing her onto a rickety chair at the painted table.

Dim, warm firelight that seeped through that slim opening, teasing her as much as the memory of her dream. It promised warmth, comfort, and, Feyre knew with certainty, a bed warmer and more plush than any she had ever known.

It was that thought, as she rearranged her threadbare nightgown around her chill-spotted legs, that was almost as tempting as the heady scent of sex and incense that followed the firelight into the silent, cold room.

Sex, incense, and him.

Him. The scent that had followed her all her life.

What he wanted with her, she didn’t know. But she knew now that this fae male, the one who promised her stars, who must have enchanted her to reach such heights of pleasure, whose very soul seemed to call to hers, must be the reason for all this.

Hell, she could still feel his hand between her legs, even now.

It all sounded so foolish to her mortal ears. So obvious a trap that she would have been ashamed to be the one setting it.

Why her? Why a ragged, half-feral hunter with only a fistful of coppers to her name?

Dawn must have been further away than he’d thought when he left her dream, because she must have stared at that door for hours, turning that thought over in her mind. Her skin was numb with the cold, and she still couldn’t find any answers. She was too slim to eat, too plain to bring in coin for a pleasure hall, too weak to sow a crop. Her folkish paintings, though she was proud of them, were nothing compared to the masterpieces she’d seen lining the walls of that faerie salon. At most, she could snare some rabbits or fell a deer.

So why her?

Again and again she asked herself that question, waiting as the firelight guttered, banked, and then died. Shadows, unnatural and agitated, replaced them, sending reaching tendrils out into the cottage as the watery blue light of a winter morning dripped in through the window.

One of the ribbons of darkness crawled toward the door of the bedroom where Elain and Nesta still slept, and Feyre could not allow it.

She would not allow it.

So she stood at last, sidestepping those shadows and reaching for the knob—

And the golden thread from her dream flared to life in her chest, as if an unseen hand had plucked it.

She pressed a hand to her breast, smothered her gasp, and planted her feet, preparing once more for the shadowed hand to try to drag her inside. The crystal knob was warm in her palm as her hand closed around it, but nothing touched her.

She slammed the door shut.

What could a big, bad faerie possibly want with Feyre Archeron? 💕 Thanks for reading!

#feysand #feyre archeron #rhysand #a court of thorns and roses #acotar #my fics #atwfd #as the world falls down #a court of thorns and roses fic #feyre #rhys #feyrhys #fanfic #smut

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