#trails of cold steel roleplay
Text
caught you
pairings natasha romanoff x fem!reader
synopsis natasha comes home to find an intruder in her house. the encounter takes an unexpected turn as authority gives way to desire.
word count 2.5k
warnings smut, roleplay, spanking, use of strap-ons, cockwarming, gunplay(?), ‘mommy’ kink, subspace/headspace, cursing, degradation, praising, teasing, pet names, established relationship, bottom!reader, top!natasha
author’s note phew i might've gone too crazy for my first natasha romanoff fic, oops? hope you enjoyed reading this as much as i did writing it <3
navigation main masterlist | request guidelines | about me
As Natasha reached into her pocket, her fingers found the familiar shape of her keys. She unlocked the door to her house with the key, the weariness in her muscles evident as she used more force than usual. She yearned for nothing more than to take a soothing bath and a well-deserved night of sleep after a long day of doing post-mission briefings and reports at the Avengers compound.
As she stepped through the wooden frame and gently closed the door behind her, she effortlessly kicked off her boots and let them fall to the side. She slipped her black leather jacket off her shoulders and laid it temporarily over the back of the sofa. She yawned and massaged her right shoulder with her left arm, groaning as she pressed on the sensitive spot.
It had been another exhausting day. Despite her love for her job as an Avenger, she had to admit that the long missions and overwhelming workload had begun to take its toll on her. The only positive aspect of her job was the joy she brought to children’s faces every time they saw her and called her ‘my favourite hero’. Furthermore, Natasha earned more than enough money to buy a house away from the compound. As much as she liked her team, she favoured the peace of being alone after a long day.
Lost in her thoughts about work, she suddenly felt the cold night breeze whisper against her skin. A moment of confusion etched on her face. Her eyebrows furrowed as she realized the patio doors leading to her backyard were ajar, casting a shadow on the hardwood floors.
Had I forgotten to close it?
I swear I closed it before I left the house.
Natasha walked towards the patio door, closed it and turned the lock firmly. She was not the type to forget things easily. She couldn’t get rid of the persistent feeling that something wasn’t right.
Just as she was about to turn away from the patio door, she noticed a trail of muddy footprints leading into the house from the backyard. Her heart dropped as she realized someone had broken into her home while she was gone. A shiver ran down her spine at the thought of the intruder in the home with her at the very moment. With careful and silent steps, she traced the trail of prints with her eyes, leading her down the hallway.
Natasha slowly reached behind her back and pulled out her pistol from its concealed position in her waistband. Her mind raced, and adrenaline surged through her veins. Wrapping both her hands around the grip, her index finger rested on the trigger guard, pointing the gun at a slightly downward angle.
She mentally prepared herself for any potential confrontation. She took a deep breath, her senses heightened, and cautiously continued to follow the muddy footprints. The trail led her to her master bedroom, the door firmly closed.
With her back pressed against the adjacent wall, Natasha listened intently for any movement beyond the door. She closed her eyes, straining her ears for any sound. A faint and muffled shuffling sound barely reached her ears. Just as she was open about to the door, she took a long breath, steeling herself for what lay beyond her.
“Freeze!” She called out, pushing the door open with a swift turn of the doorknob. Her voice was authoritative and firm as she stared at the intruder, her hands maintaining a firm grip on the pistol.
Realization flashed across her face momentarily as she recognized the intruder’s face, though she masked it well. Caught off guard, you looked up with widened eyes as you saw Natasha pointing a gun at you. You raised your hands in mock surrender, standing tall with your head held high.
“It’s not what it looks like.” You tried to explain, steadying your nerves.
“Put your hands behind your back, now.” Natasha commanded, her tone unwavering as she ignored your attempts at explaining yourself.
You slowly lowered your hands and placed them behind your back. You didn’t seem daunted by the situation in the least. Natasha maintained a stern expression, lowering her pistol and holstering it back in her waistband.
She stepped forward, her expression hinting at a momentary diversion of her thoughts. The dim light from the window accentuated your features, and she found herself momentarily captivated by your beauty. Her gaze lingered for an extra beat. She couldn’t deny that you looked mesmerizing and absolutely ravishing.
“What’s your name?” Natasha inquired, her tone assertive but curious.
“Y/N.”
“Y/N.” Natasha repeated. “You don’t seem afraid at all.”
She stopped in front of you. As you subtly shifted your stance, your hair cascaded gracefully over one shoulder, giving her a whiff of your sweet vanilla perfume. Tension lingered between you as you met her gaze through lowered lashes.
Your eyes briefly travelled down, and you couldn’t help but notice a bulge between Natasha’s pants. A subtle swallow and a discreet bite of your bottom lip betrayed the mutual awareness of the heightened tension. You could see the impressive girth outlined through her pants. Her breath hitched as she saw the lust and need reflecting in your eyes.
“Face the wall.” Natasha ordered, ignoring the tension between the both of you.
A smile on your lips formed as an idea appeared in your head. You stepped closer to her, leaving no space between you two. You turned around, with your hands still behind your back, leaning back to press your ass to her groin.
“Guess you’ll have to arrest me like this, miss...?” You glanced over your shoulder, asking for her name.
“Natasha.” She responded with a shaky breath, her hands aching to grab your hips and press you against her. She tried to resist the urge to give in to her impulses, trying to maintain her professional demeanour.
Your breathing became laboured, your lips parting slightly. You reached behind your back and reached for Natasha’s bulge, feeling the outline of the strap-on. She groaned, a ‘fuck’ escaping her lips as she grabbed your hips and pressed your ass against her groin harder, giving in to the temptation.
“Such a fucking slut.” Natasha’s eyes were a mix of authority and desire.
“N-Nat-” You knew she’d be hot and bothered by your actions, but-
She leaned forward and pressed a hard kiss to your temple. “Shut up.” She whispered hotly in your ear. “Take your clothes off, now.”
You wasted no time removing your clothes, letting them fall around your legs as you kept your panties on. Natasha sat down on the edge of the king-size bed and patted her lap.
“Over my lap.” Her voice was void of emotion, and her words hit you like a bucket of ice water. You knew what was happening next and obeyed without saying a word, fear creeping into your stomach. Your stomach rested on her lap, your head and legs dangling beside her thighs. The rough fabric of her pants hitting your clothed folds made you shiver, your cheeks turning a bright shade of red.
She ran her hands over the curve of your ass, her touch light as a feather along the seam where flesh met lace. The delicacy of her touch caused goosebumps to form on your skin.
“I think you deserve ten spanks, don’t you agree?” Natasha retorted. It was a rhetorical question and you didn’t have the confidence to turn her down anyway.
She lifted your hips to push your panties down to your knees, trapping your thighs closed. Her hands, which had been so gentle a moment before, dug roughly into your ass, leaving crescent-shaped impressions on your skin.
A powerful smack echoed, and you arched forward with the force of it against your ass. Natasha’s thumb rubbed over your red and sore cheek. You tried to keep track of how many smacks she had given you so far, but after the third smack, your thoughts became blank as you moaned uncontrollably. As much of a punishment as it was, you couldn’t deny that you liked it when she spanked you. Even your hips pushed into her hands during each blow.
“I wish you could see yourself right now. Making a mess all over my thigh while I spank you like the naughty girl you are.” Natasha chuckled, finishing the last few blows on your bright red flesh. Taking a deep breath, you grit your teeth against the red-hot pain emanating from your ass.
“Such a good little slut for mommy.” She kneaded the supple flesh and leaned down to treat each of your cheeks to a kiss. “You did so well for me, good girl.”
You squirmed fruitlessly under her touch, whimpering as the sticky juices ran down your thighs. “M-Mommy..” You whispered, trying to angle your hips against her thigh to give yourself some pleasure.
“You’re not cumming on my thigh. On your knees for me, milaya devushka (sweet girl).” Her voice was honey-like, her hands gently scratching over your scalp. Her soothing touch lulled you slowly, and you hummed in response.
Releasing yourself from her lap, you knelt before her, her knees spread on either side of you. You steadfastly refused to acknowledge the pain beneath your flesh. The rough carpet dug into your knees, but the thought of obeying her was all that mattered to you.
Natasha stood up, quickly removing her clothes and tossing them aside. Your eyes looked up at her submissively, and your mouth salivated as your gaze fell on the strap-on around her waist. She sat back down, spreading her legs and pushing you closer to her body. Neither of you spoke, the room falling silent apart from the ticking sounds of the clock and steady breathing. She watches your body relax the longer you kneel for her, sensing the moment you slip into subspace.
“Do you know what cockwarming is, detka (baby)?” You nod slowly and open your lips, darting your tongue out. Natasha guides her length between them, and you moan at the heaviness of it, resting your cheek against her thigh. Your cheeks are flushed, and your eyes flutter shut. She watches you in your kneeling position, noticing your body swaying unconsciously.
She holds her body upright with an elbow behind her back, running her fingers through your hair. Your thighs ache, and your mouth is full of saliva, but eventually, you begin to relax into her.
“Good girl.” Natasha whispers, the praise slipping from her lips. She almost purrs with satisfaction as she feels you melt further into her. “So perfect for me.”
You don’t know how long you stay on your knees with her in your mouth. You whine as she begins to take your mouth from her, your fingers digging into her skin, trying to hold her in place as you swallow back her length.
“Shhh... It’s alright, you’ve done great.” Natasha smiles and brushes her thumb over your cheek. You let her pull you off of her and bring you into her lap.
You tuck your face into her neck, whining as you slowly release from the subspace. You begin to realize yourself aching with emptiness, and you whimper as her strap brushes against the sensitive, soaked skin between your thighs. You begin rocking in her lap slowly.
“Shit, so wet for me, hmm?” Natasha drops her hands to your hips and lets you rut down against her lap, grunting as your breasts bounce in her face as you move. She leans down and sucks one between her lips, grazing her teeth against the hardening nub softly.
“P-Please, Mommy.” You whine, arching against her. She nods as she reaches between the both of you to wrap her hand around the silicone. Soaked in your arousal and saliva, the both of you moan as she presses the head of the strap-on into your entrance.
Natasha cups your face and guides you into a kiss as she begins pressing inside, and you moan into her open mouth as she stretches you, the length thick and hard and hot as it sinks inside of you.
“Fuck, dorogaya (sweetheart). You’re so tight for me.” She murmurs, and you’re heavily panting as you settle in her lap, her length nestled fully inside you.
Clenching the walls of your pussy a few times, you groan as Natasha holds your hips, raising you on your shaking legs before dropping you back down on her length.
“Nat, I need… Please…” You can’t find the word to explain the way your thighs shake from exertion, or how your whole body feels like fucking jelly, but Natasha knows, she always does.
“I’ve got you, malyshka (babygirl).” Natasha murmurs. You whimper as she wraps her hands around your thighs. She helps you rise and fall on her length, thrusting her hips up quickly and deeper to meet you as you fall back down. She kisses you, lips wet and hot as both of your bodies are covered in a thin sheen of sweat. You can’t seem to think of anything else past the haze of arousal.
“M-Mommy, I’m close.” You whimper, and she drops her mouth to your neck, her tongue and lips sucking and her teeth biting. She breathes hotly against your neck, against the mark she’s just made.
You whimper and drop your forehead onto her shoulder, closing your eyes and moistening your lips. You’re sliding along her sweaty skin as she fucks you hard and fast, her fingers digging into the skin of your thighs as she helps you rise and-
“Cum for me, moya lyubov’ (my love).” Your breath comes in short gasps as Natasha wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your body as close to her as she can.
“Oh God-” You moan and cum hard, your whole body shaking as she continues to fuck you, splitting you open. Natasha trembles beneath you as you writhe above her. Breathing sharply, she murmurs words of comfort and praise to you as you tremble in her arms, coming down from your high.
Natasha lifts you from her lap and lays you gently on the bed. You hiss as you feel a hint of pain as she slides off of you. She lies down next to you and looks at you, giggling as she looks at your face after your orgasm.
“Well, that was something. I never thought you’d have it in you to try out one of my fantasies.” You smile softly and turn your head towards her.
Natasha laughs, and the sweet sound echoes through the room. “Well, I want to please you, detka (baby). Did you like it?”
“Of course.” You reach forward to stroke her cheek and kiss her gently. Natasha pulls back and presses her forehead against yours, sighing in happiness. “Can't deny that it was really hot when you were acting all commanding and authoritative to me though.”
Natasha's shakes her head, smirking. “Alright, weirdo. Get some sleep.”
“Yes, Mommy.” You teased, sticking your tongue out playfully.
After a few minutes of synchronized breathing, exhaustion catches up to you. Your breathing slows down and you fall asleep. Natasha pulls the covers over you, snuggling against your side and splaying an arm across your waist.
“I love you so much, Y/N.” She whispers in your ear, a soft smile on her lips as she falls asleep next to her beloved.
navigation main masterlist | request guidelines | about me
#lumi’s fics!#marvel#mcu#the avengers#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#black widow#black widow x reader#smut#wlw#fanfic#fanfiction
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
ichor.
pairings: nikolai gogol x f!reader
warnings: smut, roleplay, hints of primal prey, intense knife and blood play, dumbification, degredation, name calling, brat taming, impact play, dacryphilia, manhandling, bondage, major consensual non-consent, hints of dub con
word count: 1.4k
a/n: started writing this late 2022 and finally finished LOL. deleted and rewrote this SO many times, but finally got a result i liked ;)
your heart is pounding in your chest as you hear footsteps approaching. they still for a moment while you try to breathe as quietly as possible so he doesn’t hear.
you almost let out a sigh of relief when you hear those light footsteps again as they fade away. holding your chest with your hand, you use the other to quietly push the door open.
“there you are.” you freeze. but he walked away… is all you can think as he slowly steps towards you. you whimper when you feel the cold steel touch your lips. “you think you can hide from me? hm, you really are stupid.”
“k–kolya.. wh..” you’re cut off by the white-haired man shushing you, a finger against the grin on his lips. tsk, tsk, tsk. you never seem to learn, he thinks, jotting down a mental note to go over his rules again, later.
anxiety courses throughout your entire body, leaving you paralyzed. you knew better than to try to fight back, the man’s ability rendering any sort of attack from you useless; and that’s just how he wanted it. a monster: what every person who’s had some sort of encounter with him seems to think about him. the silence is tense, dragging out the uncomfortable feeling in your stomach whilst nikolai… enjoyed it? the disdain on your face amuses him; and that thought makes you sick, knowing he is getting off on your terror.
a loud cackle makes you shiver in fear, your eyes snapping towards his humored face as he throws his head back. “ah, even if you’re stupid, you’re still the most adorable human i have ever come across,” nikolai comments as he takes notice of the way your thighs just ever-so-slightly squeeze together. the knife glides across your lip, scraping towards the apple of your cheek. the glimmer of the steel shines in your eyes, the reflection of yellow irises barring into you.
wincing, your face scrunches up in pain at the sharp sting on your face, a trail of blood beginning to fall as you hold in a cry. a burning sensation then takes over, the feeling of wetness sliding along the bright red mark on your portrait. “who knew blood could taste so good..” he remarks, now dragging his finger over the wound, gathering the blood on his fingertip before rubbing it against his thumb.
nikolai begins writing on the other side of your face, the letters messy and almost unintelligible due to the messy ink. ‘mine.’
fingers are shoved into your mouth, a metallic taste clashing with your tastebuds. a moan slips out of your throat and through his digits, just barely loud enough to make him throb between his legs.
when he pulls his fingers from your wet cavern, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder before making his way towards the room. you thrash against him, kicking your legs and banging on his back while sobbing out soft pleads for mercy. “kolya! pl–ease.. don’t, i promise i’ll be good!” you beg once he reaches the entrance to the room he’d gotten made specially just for you. “baby, i promise i won’t do it again. please don— ah!” a cry shatters out of you as you hit the ground with a deep thud.
you quickly scramble to sit on your butt, your arms holding you up whilst staring at him with tears in your eyes. “i don’t remember saying you could talk, let alone tell me what to do.” he lifts his shoe to rest on your crotch before deeply pressing down. a shiver crawls up your spine when the metallic blade suddenly appears against your throat, pressing into the skin, but not hard enough to pierce it. “the more you act like this, the more difficult it’ll be for you.”
“m’ sorry, kolya.”
he laughs at the whimper that falls from your lips as you apologize, crouching down to forcefully make you face him. “i know, darling. but you still need to be dealt with accordingly.” you’re once again being hoisted up onto his shoulder, hanging lifelessly in defeat.
it feels like hours before you’re dropped onto the leather doctor’s office-like chair. you beg nikolai with your eyes one last time, causing him to shoot you a dirty look as if to say ‘don’t you dare’.
you don’t even notice you’re fully strapped down until you reach to feel the cut on your skin, hands and ankles bound to leather cuffs. “no use trying to get them off. there’s no where to run.” he clearly finds pleasure in being condescending, always making sure to assert his dominance and position of superiority over you.
the tip of the weapon trails along your abdomen, inching closer and closer to your to your core, stopping right below your navel.
the steel spins, the tip digging into your skin ever-so-slightly just before it trails even lower, aiming for your thigh. it digs down, causing a prick of blood to bubble up, then gliding it across the expanse of your upper leg, leaving a thick trail of your ichor. you scream out in a pained cry, your whole body tensing. this cut is much deeper and larger than the previous one on your cheek, the pain almost unbearable.
“oh, what a wonderful view. however, i bet the sight of you coming because of our mixed blood would be absolutely delightful, my kryhitko.” suddenly, the knife scrapes across his fourarm, the delicious blood dripping directly onto your cut.
fingers then trace the fresh wound of yours, smearing the fluid around the perimeter. the now drenched appendages make their way towards your pulsing core, slowly beginning to draw up and down your folds. you hate how wet you are—how turned on you are because of the heiness acts the white haired clown is committing.
“you seem to be enjoying this almost as much as i am,” he smirks at you before slowly inserting his fingers. they softly graze the walls of your core, the slightest amount of pressure making you twitch. gliding in and out of you, they curl ever-so-slightly, reaching towards your g-spot. nikolai begins to rub slow circles on your clit, in a massage-like pattern. he’s mesmerized; the color of your blood and slick combining look so delicious on his fingers; the way you flutter when he applies pressure on your most sensitive spot; the lustful look in your eyes as he works wonders on your body–all of it. he’s absolutely enthralled with you. and the way you so gracefully murmur his name helps not one bit.
the sound of your cunt fills his ears–one of the greatest sounds he’s ever heard, to tell the truth; everything about you drives him wild. the closer you get to release, the louder your pants and whines get. when you start to buck your hips up towards him, he slows his pace but continues to go even deeper inside of you.
you’re getting close to your release when he stops, removing all hands from you.
when he sees the pout in your eyes, he looks at you mockingly, “aw, so close, weren’t you?—well you know the rules. no coming until i say so, dove.” a sigh falls from you, almost like a groan, but your face stays still, knowing if you look at him a certain way, things will get ten times worse for you.
once your breathing has calmed, pleasure begins to start building up once again, harsher than before.
and then—
it’s gone: again.
his torture continues for what feels like hours to you: bringing you to the brink of release, then removing all contact from you. you can’t even remember how many times he’s done this, already, but it’s got to be at least more than five.
your impending orgasm begins to build up, urging you so, so close until it storms over you like a tsunami. your eyes are blurry, scrunched up in fixation whilst your whole body convulses due to the pleasure. words spill from your mouth, like ‘sorry’ and ‘please’. however, your mind is still just barely conscious enough to realize your fate; your fate that is in the hands of a clown, a man who loves tormenting more than anything. and for a moment, his smile quivers in ire.
“oh, my sweet dove,” he coos softly into your ear, feigning sympathy; although irritation discernible in his voice.
the apologies coming from you slip right past him. you think you deserve forgiveness? absolutely not. and he’ll be sure to help you understand that.
sorry abt the shitty ending (◞‸◟) but if you made it here , thx sm for reading !! tis my first (fully completed) one shot ;> so feedback more than welcome! feel free to dm with any tips :]
© h4sanz 2024
#bungou stray dogs#nikolai#nikolai gogol#nikolai smut#bsd#bsd smut#i want his dick so far down my throat it leaves bruises#h4sanz writes ……✎
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
Alleyway (NSFW)
Pairing: Jake Lockley x female!reader
Warnings: PWP, bit of roleplay with Mr. Lockley, rough public sex, dirty talk that includes crude names and degredation, choking, the gloves stay on during sex, thigh riding, biting that causes a tiny amount of blood, anddd hair pulling.
Word Count: 4.0K
Summary: The man in the limo is one you know, but for tonight, he is not a lover nor a friend—merely a predator stalking.
A/N: Everyone say thank you hormones! Got me out of my writers block purely because I wanted some lockley smut. Also wasn’t sure if I should put translations for the spanish directly after the words/phrases, so let me know if I should.
There’s music playing across the street. Some loud, energetic beat that spills out into the night from the open door of a club, patrons stumbling out past the stone-faced guard that eyes them lazily. The sidewalk seems to tremble with the noise, chorus of the song resonating within the ground, trailing up into the soles of your shoes until you can feel it in your toes. So, so ear-splitting that you don’t hear the humming of the ahcromatic limo driving down the street, mere metres away.
Completely oblivious, you make eye contact with the bouncer. His bald head gleams in the streetlight, a gaze that you can sense run over your form sent your way. Hell, you don’t blame him. Dressed like you are, he probably assumes you’ll waltz over to the steel entrance sometime soon. Cross across the street and look at him all prettily like everyone must, begging for the chance to pass the velvet rope that hangs from the pole next to the door. A man in a wrinkled tux exits, almost tripping over his own feet. The cord remains unlatched, the bouncer still staring.
The limo pulls up next to you.
Tinted windows allow you to get a glimpse of yourself. Cold bitten nose and cheeks, eyes widened into saucers. Silk dress tight around your chest, poking nipples visible through the fabric. The frigid air bites, but you had decided to forego your jacket for the night, knowing it won’t take long for him to find you. True to your thoughts, it had only taken fifteen minutes for him to spot you amidst the bustling city districts night-life.
You take a step back as the passenger side window rolls down. A flat, black beret sits atop what you know is luscious brown curls, obscuring them and casting a shadow that ends just above thick eyebrows. One cocked up like the side of his mouth. It opens, exposing teeth like a predators. His words fade within the boistourous music as you take another step away from the luxiorus car, then another. Until your back meets the side of a building, thudding softly into it but it forces a gasp from you anyways.
The smirk turns sinister, and alarm bells ring. Bouncing inside the confines of your head, slamming right to left, left to right. The cold seems to have infiltrated your limbs to the point they’re frozen. Skin and muscle turned ice, still like a deer faced with the rapidly approaching headlights of a vehicle. The rumbling of the engine falls to a stop, his dark eyes still on you, and the spell is broken.
You’re making your way down the street before he can exit, ankle boots clicking against the cement in rapid succesion.
The streetlights offer steady illumtination, but your vision blurs. Adrenaline rushing through every inch of your body, turning your limbs shakey and air stuttering. It puffs out in front of you, haze that you barely notice before you’re going through it, pace contained to a fast walk instead of a run like you so desperately want to.
There’s too many eyes on you. The club disapearing behind you, yet its clients among others still up and down the other side of the street. Drunk and tipsy, laughing and carrying on. Unknowing to your current predicament, and you intend to keep it that way lest one of them interrupt what you know will eventually occur.
You trust Jake to not hurt you, but you’re unsure about everyone else. Care for a stranger turning lethal if they attempt to follow, nervous for your well-being with the intimidating man trailing after you.
A man and another walk past you, hand-in-hand and sending looks with how you’re continuously speeding up. Tapping of your shoes’ heels against the ground turning pounding with the force you put into it, willing the mere strength of each step to quicken your escape without you necessarily having to outright run. The air feels stolen from your lungs no matter how deep of a breath you take. It’s not enough and won’t be with the nerves and arousal that demand attention. Crawling up inside of you and sending periodic bursts of energy in your chest and lower stomach.
The muscles of your legs burn. Calves and thighs aching with the way you’ve got them taut, wide strides propelling you further and further. Anticipation curls tighter within you, ears ringing louder now with the music growing quieter the longer you walk. It turns your stomach and makes you feel sick, becoming too much until you have to glance behind you, knowingly acknowledging the devil himself by doing so.
His blue dress shirt is colored black for tonight, barely noticable under the thick topcoat. All darkly colored like the cap atop his head, front portion pointed downwards as he attempts to look like he’s simply watching where he walks. But you know better. Can feel his stare, heavy and pointed. Hands tucked into the pockets and leather dress shoes clacking against the paved walkway. A step ahead of yours in switfness, slowly gaining on you with each footfall. Growing faster now that you dared look at him, forcing your stare to return to in front of you.
You’re past the separate, small groups of people by now. Entirely alone in your endeavor as you pass under a circular spot of light that the streetlamp offers. A brick building to your right, shadows of the night that eat at everything giving way to an opening between the towering establishments just ahead.
The alleyway is an abyss. Ilumination stopping at its enterence and giving it a daunting persona. A place you wouldn’t walk down any other day, but now it’s little more than an option at losing him. If you can just turn into it quickly enough that you have a few seconds to navigate through it and into the street on the other side—maybe then you’ll stand a chance. He’s got his limo parked on this avenue, so maybe if you get far enough he’ll go back to it. Search for you by car again.
Within the span of a second, you’re whipping towards it. Out from the glow of the light and once again consumed in the darkness of the night. The ends of your shoes echo against the dense walls, walking-pace turned into that of a run, spurred on by the fact you’re out of everyone’s viewpoint. There’s no more risk of someone seeing, and that ignites a fire within you. No one to interfere, which means if—when— Jake catches you, he’s more than free to do whatever he wishes.
You make it halfway through before a hand is wrapping around your upper arm, grip strong before it’s shoving you against the alley’s side wall with enough strength to steal the air from your chest in a short-lived gasp. The heel of his palm digs into your shoulder, fingers wrapping around like a vice. Keeping you there as his other hand goes to your throat, pressing and stunting the exhale into a wheeze.
“Aye, chiquita, chiquita…,” Jake taunts, hot breath to contrast the cold that has turned your features dully numb as he gets an inch away from your face. He’s close enough that you can smell the spicy musk that trails after wherever he goes. Something warm and faint, only noticeable when he’s right there. When it’s too late. “Has no one taught you any manners? Running from me…,” he clicks his tongue chastisingly, pressure on your throat relenting enough for you to take in a shaking inhale. “Should I teach you some, bonita?”
Your eyes resolve to an agreement with the dimness of the alleyway, giving way to the features of the man before you. Brown eyes turned into endless black pools beneath the brim of his hat, the quirk of his lips set into a knowing smirk that says, I’ve got you now. It spreads throughout your body and right to the heat that simmers low within you—the kind that’s been there since you left the apartment, Jake’s words fresh in your head: Like cat and mouse, ratoncita. You go, I chase.
But the game never lasts long; becoming over before it’s barely begun, leaving you in the grasp of a more than excited predator. Not that you’d ever mind.
You swallow thickly, feeling your throat bob against his leather clad hand, but stay silent. Nerves grabbing at your vocal cords and holding them, rendering you quiet in the face of such danger. The only sound is the pounding of your heart and the blood rushing in your ears as he consumes you in his stare, swallowing you entirely with it. A viscious look takes over his angular features as you cower.
“Nervous, now? So confident that you’ll get away, only to end up here, justo donde has pertenecido desde el principio.” He emphasizes the last of his words by sliding his hand down from your throat and to your tits. Nipples poking through the material, already senstive as he takes the left one in his grasp, running a thumb over the bud and making you jerk. A dark chuckle leaves his throat at your reaction, and he does it again, harder this time. “Little bitch practically keening for such a simple touch. Let’s see what happens when I give more, eh?”
“Jake—,” you start, plea falling on uncaring ears as he wraps a finger in the middle of the top portion of your dress and tugs it down in one swift pull, exposing your chest to the cold air. The wash of frigidness pulls a shiver from you, goosebumps rising to meet the sudden subjection to the change in temperature.
He doesn’t leave you to feel it for long, lowering his head and hot mouth closing over your right nipple. Tongue running circles before his blunt teeth graze over it, your chest heaving towards the feeling as he softly bites down, rolling it until your lips part and a whine falls out.
When he moves to the other nipples, your hand flies out to steady yourself. Grasping at the hard muscles of his upper arm, only getting to just barely find a firm hold before he’s shooting a hand up and grabbing your forearm, yanking it up and above your head so that it bangs against the wall. Mouth leaving your chest in the same moment he’s doing the same with your other arm, sliding the fingers of one hand to grab both of your wrists in a tight hold.
“Really trying to touch me after acting like you don’t want it,” Jake rags out, all in your face, nose bumping against yours. Licking his lips, tongue so close to your own mouth that you open it as if commanded by muscle memory. A deep chuckle, leaning in closer so the tips of your breasts brush against his clothed chest, feeling how the bass of it vibrates within him. “Qué estúpido, chiquita. Do you not know any better?”
The heat of his words go right past your parted lips until it feels like your own. A breath of life. It makes your head spin, legs going all gooey despite the cold air persisting against them. He crudely shoves a knee between them, splitting your thighs apart so he can hover inbetween them, feeling how the heat of your pussy radites onto him even when not directly touching.
“What do you say?” Leather fingers grabbing at your chin forcefully, shaking your head side to side. You begin to do it for him, saying, no, no, because all you can think about is how close he is. Mouth right there, knee just inches away from where you need him most. Not moving, still, making you burn in the late october chill. He takes two fingers and taps them against your cheek, showing his teeth in a viscious smile. “Don’t worry,” fake sympathy bleeding into his husky tone, “I’ll teach you.”
He's closing the space between your clothed cunt and his leg in a second. Pressure at your wrists growing loose all at once so your body drops an inch, then closing back up on them in a vice, squeezing hard when you wiggle at the sudden contact. Moving his leg back a bit so that his knee is pressing right into your clit, keeping it there and lowly saying, “Now, you will get off on my thigh like the desperate bitch I know you are.”
And, shame to the wind, he is right.
Leaving without the warmth of your jacket, taking a street he often frequents for clients, even the move you made to simply ensue a chase. From the start you knew how this would be, because with him after you, there really is no other conclusion than to end up in his leather clad hands. So, in the darkness of the alleyway, you begin to let your hips rise and fall, feeling localizing around the growing heat between your legs.
The hardness of the top of his knee is achingly good as you rut yourself against it. Hesitant at first, but then he’s grabbing a handful of the meat at your hips, urging you to chase your release like he had you. All the while he’s alternating between praises and degrading phrases, muttered roughly in front of you so that he can watch as you get off. How pathetic and good you look like this, all desperate with just him trailing after you earlier. His pants don’t let him feel it, but the growing wet patch on your underwear alone confirms that. How each time you go back you can feel it pressing and sticking to your soaking folds as you continue.
That burning fire in your lower stomach grows hotter. Flames licking at your skin, turning your body flushed. Cool air brushing over you feeling more and more like a good thing. Jake’s so close, the heat of his body washing over you like a blanket. All musk and overbearing like the coil that tightens with each motion of your hips. He can tell, face growing more smug each time you glance up, your eyes lidded and mouth parted.
You wish he’d just close the distance. He’s still got your wrists in his hand, upper arms inches from your ears. Fingers digging into your hip, letting you go at your own pace as long as it’s constant, or else he’s forcing you to move with a tsk. Face right there, letting you pant and breathlessly moan while he simply watches, lips so close you could go forwards and kiss them easily. The bone of his knee hits just right as you grind forwards again, and fuck, you go forwards with it, leaning up and getting rid of the space yourself.
The kiss is entirely desperate, your nose bumping into his. You’re half worried he won’t respond after what he did earlier at you grasping his arm, but something seems to snap inside of Jake. He returns the action with fevor, pressing his mouth into yours so hard that your head is shoved back against the wall. The hand he had on your hip goes to your throat, squeezing enough that you’re gasping, and he’s shoving his hot tongue in, groaning as you start rutting faster against his knee.
“Mocosa,” He rasps between the wet noises of kissing, fingers expertly finding your corteroid artery and compressing it until your head grows fuzzy. The window of your mind is abruplty closed, fog appearing on the glass. You can’t think straight, and he takes advantage of it by moving to deliver a sharp bite to your earlobe. “What did I say? Won’t even listen when I’m letting you be desperate like this.”
“M’sorry,” you gasp out, heat inside of you growing and growing as he travels down to below his hand, nipping at where your neck and shoulder meet. Teeth scraping before he’s clamping down, pulling a moan from deep in your chest. “Couldn’t—Couldn’t help it. Sorry, m’sorry—,” you continue to ramble out, whimpering between the words as your orgasm rapidly approaches.
Everything’s gone soft around the edges. Mind going into a tunnel vision of just Jake. How he’s making you feel with his downturned lips at your collarbone, hand at your throat. Wrists dully throbbing as the strength he’s putting into holding them has your heartbeat resonating there. He’s everywhere, and you barely get a choked announcement that you’re about to go over the edge of the cliff before you’re falling, vision fading as your eyes roll back inside of your skull.
Your hips stutter to a stop as your body trembles, lips parted in a soundless oh. Then he’s releasing your throat from his hold and moving down to make you ride out the burst of feelings, forcing you to move through it and muttering phrases into your ear that hover in the air, unable to pass through the haze.
Overstimulation breaks its way through just as you return back down from the night sky. Jake gives you barely enough time to get a breath before he’s receding completely and flipping you around, then coming back on you. Front pressed against your back, shoving your bare breasts against the cold wall. Ripping the bottom of your nice, silk dress up so hard that you hear something tear.
You go to say something about it, how expensive it was and how Marc got it for you, but he’s growling out, “Don’t care.” Before delivering a slap to your ass, its noise echoing throughout the alleyway as he drags your underwear down to below your knees in one swift pull.
The wetness of your pussy becomes more apparent as it greets the cold air, then Jake’s fingers as he rubs them, gloved and all, through the slick. “Look at this, eh? Maldita patética.” He gives a few quick movements so that you can hear just how soaking you are for him, mirroring the slap in how the lewd sounds seem to keep going, bursting against the walls and back again.
A wash of heat crawls up your neck, spreading across your face and ears until you feel like a furnace amidst the cold. Jake at your backside adding to it by bringing that same hand up in front of your face, spitting out, “Mirda,” before a pathetic sound leaves your lips at the sight.
Your wetness covering the top half of his fingers, remaining attached in a string even as he spreads them, twisting them all around for you to fully see. Then it’s being dragged over your cheeks, slowly going over each side before wiping the rest over your mouth. Not giving you a chance to do anything as he drags his hand through your hair and tugs your head back, meeting your lips and tasting how it mixes in with your spit and moaning. A low sound that goes straight to your lower stomach, relighting the fire as fast as it had faded to sparks.
“Love how you get when I come after you, ratoncita,” he gruffs out, breaking the kiss and using his hold on your strands to yank your neck to the side so he can trail wet kisses up it. Undoing his buckle and zipper as he lowly whispers, “Don’t even need to do much and you’re already like this, eh? A bitch in heat.” Letting go of your hair and pushing the hot head of his dick through your folds, brushing against your clit and making your thighs jerk. “Say it for me, bonita. Say it.”
“I—I’m, fuck,” your words break off in a gasp as he slides a hand to encompass one of your tits, holding the nipple between two fingers and rolling it. Arching your hips farther into him unconciously, making his lesiurly thrusts between your thighs stroke against your throbbing bud each time. “A bit—bitch in..in. Jake, just. Please. Just do it—,”
The hand at your chest is suddenly clamping over your mouth. Fingers pressing into the side of your face, your head going back against his shoulder with the force of it. Grabbing onto your waist with his other, all hot and heavy even through the fabric of his glove. He’s right there in your peripheral, glaring at you with a feral glint in his dark eyes. “What—did—I—say?” Spitting it out through a snarl, emphasizing each word by making the warm leather dig into your cheek a degree more than the last until you’re sure it’s going to bruise.
You try to say it. A bitch in heat, that’s what you are. But it’s muffled against his palm, your spit smearing over your mouth in the process. He laughs. “Ohhh, now you want to talk?” Shoves you forward against the alley wall until you’re tight between it and him, his lower half remaining where it is so that the head of his dick is now right at your entrance. “Too late for that now, mocosa.”
Then he’s sheathing himself inside of you in one swift movement, hips meeting your ass with a smack. The cry that you let out is so loud that you’re almost thankful for the hand at your mouth. Air puffing in and out of your nose, the scent of leather heavy. Not enough to fill your lungs before it’s being expelled in a forecul exhale as Jake brings himself back then forward again so fast that you’re left reeling, hands reaching back to grab at his overcoat when he begins to do it over and over again.
Quick, deep movements that don’t give you enough time to process let alone breath. Every stuttering intake being forced into a gasp as he propels himself into you, angling his hold on your face so that you’re staring down the alley at the place you would’ve left through had you made it in time. Wrapping his arm around your waist and holding you tight against him, not leaving an inch for you to wiggle away from what he’s giving you. Growling profanities hotly into your ear, “—Knew you wouldn’t get away. Don’t want to when I give it to you like this, right, bonita? Feels so good, doesn’t it?”
You can barely concentrate when he’s hitting that spot inside of you. The kind that has your eyes squeezing shut, stars bursting through the inky black like you never shut your eyes at all. Being consumed by the night sky above all because of Jake. Cries of pleasure so consistent that they’re still audible through his glove, so much so that he’s ragging out how you should be quieter before someone sees. Hears the very distinct sounds of you both and rounds into the alley, walking onto a scene that is downright scandolous.
Still, he doesn’t relent, makes you take it and berates you for it all the same. Warnings raspily chuckled between words that have your release building faster than before. Sliding covered fingers down to your heat, sliding past the hood of your clit so he can directly touch the nerve, rubbing circles that have your knees buckling. Your moans being met by his groans that grow more and more similar to growls as he ruts into you, chasing his release while spurring yours on at the same time.
He builds your orgasm up so well that you don’t even have time to notice it’s there before it’s upon you, crumbling you down and turning your limbs into nothing more than liquid. You collapse in his hold, legs trembling and eyes rolling back so hard you see white. Nothing more than clay in Jake’s hand. Molded so perfectly that the spasms of your cunt send him over the edge, too. A serrated groan from his mouth that is buried in your neck, cut off at the end when he sinks his teeth into your burning skin.
Jake removes the hand over your lower face and sucks at the stinging bite as you both come down, only licking up your neck and to your mouth when your eyes blink open. The kiss has a familiar metallic tang to it, making you pull back as you look up at him, meeting his blown pupils and smug grin. “Did you draw blood?”
“Told you to do what I say,” he snickers, running his tongue over teeth that you think might actually be stained slightly pink. “Should’ve listened, bonita.”
#jake lockley#jake lockley smut#jake lockley fanfiction#jake lockley one shot#moonknight#moonknight smut#moonknight fanfiction#moonknight one shot#smut#fanfiction#marvel#marvel fanfiction#marvel smut#jake lockley x reader#moonknight x reader
188 notes
·
View notes
Text
Reenactment (BTAA!Scarecrow x Fem!Reader)
You and Jon decide to act out one of his favorite scenes in one of Basil Karlo’s films...with an erotic twist, of course.
AN: This man has me by the throat, so of course, as soon as I got this idea, I had to write it down before I lost it to the void.
CW: Roleplay, Consensual Non-Consent, Knifeplay, Slight bondage, Rough sex, Biting
Word count: ~1200
The stage is set. Your wrists are bound, tied to the bed post in rope that scratches and reddens your skin. Wearing nothing but a plush bath robe, you are at the mercy of your captor, your husband, Paul Batcher.
At least, that’s how the scene of one of Jon’s favorite movies goes. During a Basil Karlo marathon, in between his random bits of trivia about the actor himself, he was most excited about what was ‘the most controversial scene of his career’. His character, upon finding his wife had been cheating on him with his best friend, abducts her and tortures her in a gruesome finale. It was hard to keep your eyes on the screen, but Jon seemed to delight in how much it fascinated you all the same, even providing his own personal dissection of the climax. You couldn’t help but agree with his opinion that despite the horror, there was something erotic hiding behind every action Paul performed.
So with some editing to the original script, you were here, playing the role of Charlotte, the unfaithful wife. Armed with only your safe word, you listen as Jon hums, polishing his switchblade until it shimmers in the lamp light.
And action.
“You remember this, don’t you?” Jon smirks, perfectly mimicking the one Karlo wore in that infamous scene (you can’t help but wonder if he's practiced it before). “My birthday present. And you remember what you told me when I opened the case?” He turns, and his grim expression sends shivers down your spine. “‘So sharp, you could shave your face with it.’ Well,” he says as he steps toward you, “I haven’t the guts to try something like that. Not on myself, at least.”
Slowly, he brings the blade towards your face, and you swear you can see your reflection in the polished steel. You hold your breath as it hovers over your cheek, just barely touching your skin. “But I’ve taken good care of it. Bet you wouldn’t even feel a cut from it.” With the tip, Jon traces his knife down from your cheekbone to the bottom of your chin. Even though he’s not pressing hard enough to draw blood, you hold your breath, keeping still as Jon’s other hand lingers over your throat.
It's your cue now. Remembering how the scene went, your voice shakes as you beg ‘Paul’ for forgiveness, you can talk this out.
Jon sighs, his lip curling into a grin. “Too little, too late. But you were never good at thinking ahead. No,” he purrs, trailing the blade down the side of your neck. A whimper sneaks past your lips, your nerves on fire from the mix of sensations. Jon’s voice vibrates through your bones, down to your pelvis, causing you to cross your legs in a feeble attempt to hide your arousal. But he seems to have noticed, as his own leg comes forward, wedging itself in between your thighs.
“You’re not even thinking about what I really want to do to you. You’re only thinking about yourself.” Jon brings his knife to the belt keeping your robe closed. “And how much you want this robe off.” He digs it into the loose knot of the belt, using the flat to lift it up and undo it. After laying the ends aside, he sneaks his blade in between the folds, and the cold steel against your lower stomach makes you gasp and shudder.
Your heart races, pounding as you concentrate on staying still for Jon. It wasn't as if you didn't trust him. But you know that one slight move from you might result in an accidental injury, especially as he draws a circle with the tip just below the ribs. Even so, the adrenaline coursing through is enough to make you soaking wet, and Jon's knee rubbing up against your sex only accentuates it. You don't even notice him undoing his belt, pulling down his pants and revealing his own excitement as he sets the blade aside.
This was the biggest departure from the original scene now, but you almost forget to moan out the main character's name. You fumble in your clouded mind, calling for Jon instead of Paul, but the scene continues just the same. In fact, you hear a small laugh from your partner, amused as he sneaks a little kiss and nibble on your neck to draw more noise from you.
"How many names have you cried out on this bed?" With two fingers, he presses down just above your groin. "How many have you taken?" He traces down, brushing over your clit and rubbing against your lips, eliciting whimpers and whines as you finally get some proper attention down there.
No, concentrate. What was your line again? 'I'm sorry...I'll do whatever you want, just throw the knife away. You know I would do anything for you.' Well, you did the best you could, anyway. Jon's rubbing, combined with him sneaking inside to massage your insides didn't help.
"Yes, pumpkin," he purrs in your ear, "I know you would." He brings his hips forward, his erection throbbing as he brings your legs over his shoulders. He lines himself up to your cunt, and your breath stops as you stare into his hazel eyes.
"Then scream for me."
And he plunges his 'blade' into you. The sudden thrust sends pain shooting through your sex, making you cry out and arch your back as he lingers inside. His breath shakes, and he grits his teeth as he moves his hips back. With another thrust, the pain courses through you again, but behind it, the hormones work to turn it into pleasure. The safe word rises up your throat, but you swallow it down. Even though Jon's sudden thrusts hurt, it's not an unwelcome pain. Again and again, he stabs into you, and your cries and whimpers spur him on. Eventually, your body catches up with his, and you come as his cock digs into you.
"That's it," he growls in your ear, his hips slamming into yours. "Just like that." Suddenly, he grabs your face, making you look up at him. Jon pants, his lips upturned in a sadistic snarl. "Look at me when you come. I want my face burned into your eyes."
Just the way he glares at you, forcing your gaze towards him, sends you over the edge again. Your body was going to hate you for this later, but the abuse was addicting. Without thinking, you cry out Jon's name, forgetting about the scene, only focusing on how he fucked you like an animal, nibbling and biting on your neck and shoulders, marking you as his. And finally, as he reaches his peak, he groans as he bites down, hard, on your shoulder. With one final thrust, he finishes, panting heavily as your insides are coated with his seed.
Your muscles twitch, the final orgasm running its course as Jon pulls out. After wiping the drool from his mouth, he grabs his knife again, and with an effortless flick, he cuts the ribbon around your wrists, freeing you. Then he falls over next to you, and the two of you lay close to each other as you catch your breath.
Finally, you find the strength to move yourself closer to Jon, resting his head on his chest. You're met with an arm around you and a kiss on the forehead.
"Brava..." You hear him whisper. "What a performance. What a spectacle."
If he thinks he's getting an encore, he's going to be disappointed. You're going to need at least a week to recover from this.
"Ah, well." He says in mock disappointment, giving another kiss. "Wouldn't want to spoil our appetite, now."
60 notes
·
View notes
Text
I slept rather poorly last night, and then when I woke up it was raining and thundering outside, and I was so cozy that I made an excuse for work and stayed in bed to sleep in for a few hours. But then my dreams became very stressful and they all involved missing meetings and my boss being mad, so it wasn’t really that relaxing.
I didn’t sleep too long, and I was up in time to do a tiny bit of work. I had some leftovers for lunch (a pot of curry really lasts an absurdly long time).
In the evening, I played D&D. It was a decent session; lots of roleplaying and set-up, but then at the end of the session I finally got some payoff for things I’ve been planning for a long time. Next week will be a big, climactic battle, and I’m excited to see what happens next.
After that, I felt very tired and overstimulated. I went home and took a shower and then unwound with some Trails of Cold Steel, which is getting better and better. I love the slow buildup of the story in the Trails games. They do a great job of raising the stakes slowly but surely, so that the story grows alongside the characters.
I’m very tired tonight. Glad tomorrow is friday. I just remembered that I had planned to play Diablo 4 with my friends tomorrow, so I have that to look forward to.
1 note
·
View note
Text
A Information To Private Server At Any Age
The Outer Worlds takes all the most effective issues from its spiritual predecessor to carry us something snappy, witty, and new-- whereas additionally having the warmth of familiarity. KevinWilliams says he does not have sufficient time to both do dailies to keep up with raid gear and do other enjoyable issues. BioWare's Mass Effect 2 successfully asks the question - who says alien action video games don't have the room for romance? On this Mass Effect sequel, Commander Shepard has to achieve the loyalty of a ragtag crew of adventurers in a suicide mission to stop the Collectors from a full-scale invasion. Except for its quick-paced motion fight, players of Inquisition will recognize a renewed focus in interplay. As expected of an motion RPG, Mass Impact 2 by no means misses by way of fast-paced combat and in-depth character customization. Nonetheless, where Wild Hunt shines is its in-depth dialogue and significant romantic choices. Nevertheless, I undoubtedly suppose a clearer presentation of the rules of roleplay naming conventions in addition to a description of roleplaying itself is essential for an MMORPG like this if roleplaying is to thrive there in any respect. However, their adventure may have them concerned in a coup that seeks to overthrow the present monarchy.
P99 sticks with the unique UI and lacks the QOL updates you can find in the current EQ expertise, so if you’re a purist, you’ll find like-minded players here. They're shady as get out -- some make you pay (and these should not individuals you'd ever want to present any credit card information to), some will delete or change characters regularly, and many occasions they're created just so whoever's operating them can mess round with GM powers, and cheat with any items they want. mccainsource Alternatives to make mates and have dynamic social interactions abound, so if you're okay with doubtlessly having to quit questing in a zone as a result of a group of level 60s are camping your physique, PvP servers are the option to go. Whereas the sport solely has one canon love story, the potential developments between different characters could make for memorable tales in every playthrough. Of us of Larian Studios did an excellent job incorporating a complex narrative inside a vast interactive world in Divinity: Unique Sin 2. In the story, six characters journey the world over of Rivellon to attain Divinity while fulfilling their personal agendas.
Being a spinoff of SMT, Persona gamers may discover that each titles feature characters capturing and using creatures in mythology and folklore to save the world. The first sport instantly ties to the sequel, the place a player's save file in Cold Steel 1 carries over to Cold Steel 2. The sport takes place after Trails within the Sky, where tensions escalate between the Reformists and the aristocratic 4 Noble Homes. He continually plays video games but additionally takes the time to try out older titles. Curiously, BG2's romance isn't something out of a courting sim. Albeit Geralt has deep pasts with Triss Merigold and Yennefer of Vengerberg, the Witcher can romance seven different ladies of varied backgrounds and origins. Sadly, regardless of forming deep bonds of friendship, they ultimately have to choose between their humanity and the power to alter Rivellon itself. Do you may have a life outdoors of WoW? The foundation gears and drives the social impression initiatives of RPG Group corporations which embrace CEAT Limited, Zensar Technologies Restricted, KEC Worldwide Limited, Raychem RPG Personal Restricted, RPG Life Sciences Limited, Spencers and Company Restricted, and Spencer Worldwide Hotels Limited.
This centralization has helped the inspiration give attention to critical points and create a deeper influence. And regardless that I'm an unabashed Jef-fangirl, I feel there are just a few debatable issues with his article. Late final night the majority of the problems seemed to have been resolved, and Blizzard cautiously flipped the switch, letting players back on the servers. In 1999, Blizzard Entertainment was effectively on its method to altering into one thing of a titan inside the computer gaming house. This week, I'm going to talk a couple of world without recourse, the location of one among the sport industry's greatest and scariest issues, the world of online activation, and the way Blizzard's tight-lipped safety still doesn't stop leaks at the same time as considered one of the most important gaming issues operating now. Once you discover the worthwhile ones, be happy to benefit from all of the alternatives and gaming experiences. It is authorized share capital is INR 8.00 cr. At the very least, this is how we perceive it, as a result of Blizzard doesn't exactly share its community format. Notify Blizzard of your intent to terminate the agreement. Whether or not it’s a for-profit private server or not, if a server turns into huge enough, Blizzard will take notice and have it shut down. It is categorized as a personal limited firm and is situated in Mumbai, Maharashtra.
1 note
·
View note
Text
TAG 9 PEOPLE YOU’D LIKE TO GET TO KNOW BETTER.
Tagged by: @lunabxlla
Tagging: @convxction / @truthevade / @armazeilor / @cielcrd / @goldencalvacade / @illdivine / @noxloved / @waitandhcpe / @rakkirrrowch aaaaand who ever else is reading this. No, seriously, I would love to hear what sorta things you guys ship, because who knows? I might end up realizing I’m into it as well, lmfao.
Top 3 favorite ships: Canon Characters.
Say’ri / Chrom (Fire Emblem Awakening)
Fang / Eryn (Fairy Fencer F)
Gaius Worzel / Laura S. Arseid (Legend of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel)
Top 3 9 favorite ships: OCs. As a disclaimer, most of these happen to be OC x Canon, because I’m trash. Also, this list may be subjected to change at some point and the only reason I haven’t included Vivian / Yuuya Kizami on here is because I’ve realized I’m not as into it as I used to be before. ;;
Vivian / Leo — Leon (Fire Emblem Fates)
Vivian / Subaki — Tsubaki (Fire Emblem Fates)
Vivian / Therion (Octopath Traveler)
Vivian / Alex (written by @spectrumbound)
Vivian / Niles — Zero (Fire Emblem Fates)
Ying’zi (my oc blog: @bladerevered) / Noire (Fire Emblem Awakening)
/sweats ...After watching a playthrough of this game, I’ve started to really enjoy the prospect of Vivian / Kensuke Hibiki (The Caligula Effect & The Caligula Effect: Overdose), which will probably never happen on this blog, because let’s be real, people won’t ever make rp blogs for obscure games I like, ahhhh.
Vivian x Byakuya Togami (Danganronpa)
Vivian / Thanatos (written by @hobotics)
Lipstick or Chapstick: Chapstick, because I hate how lipstick can be messy and leave imprints almost everywhere; plus, if at all possible, I’d prefer not to taste lipstick in my food or drinks.
Last Song: We Could Do It All — Neffex.
Last Movie: Oh no, I can’t remember! But hm... I wanna say, ‘Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner?’, which is this really old film made back in 1967, which we had to watch for class.
Currently Reading: Uh... does the My Hero Academia manga count?
#⊰ out of good books ⋮ ☇ ❦ ⊱#⊰ queued for the library ⋮ ☇ ❦ ⊱#[ adhkjsahdkjsahkjdsa JUST BECAUSE I LISTED A CERTAIN OC X CANON PAIRING ON HERE DOESN'T MEAN YOU SHOULD FEEL OBLIGATED TO SHIP IT WITH ME ]#[ if anything i only ship most of these because of past rp partners... but i would NEVER forceship ]#[ also i have been so into 'the caligula effect' lately a part of me cries a little on the inside ]#[ each time i remember there are literally NO roleplay blogs for it ]#[ WHICH REMINDS ME ALL OVER AGAIN ABOUT 'TRAILS OF COLD STEEL' /ANOTHER SERIES I LOVE' ALSO HAVING A NON-EXISTENT FANDOM ]#[ one way or another though i would straight up love anyone who decides to take up a muse from EITHER of these ]#[ yet with the way things are going... i feel like i might be the only one who might eventually end up making a blog ]#[ for kensuke hibiki ]#[ BUT ANYWAYS they are both great series ]#[ granted 'trails of cold steel' has better lore/story but 'the caligula effect' has the best character development i've seen in a while ]#[ which honestly might be due to how it's written by the same writer who did persona 2 ]
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
Medical Log Sixty-nine
Karl Heisenberg x AFAB Reader (Uses She/Her); Explicit Content, 18+ ONLY
CW: Medicplay, medical kink, medical examination, voice kink, roleplay, consensual voyeurism
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31802593
"Medical log...this is my...sixty-ninth attempt."
You rolled your eyes. Of course he would go for a sex joke the second the recording snapped on.
Staying still was a difficult task. The steel table was chilling your back and your muscles screamed at you to purse away from the cold.
The warmth between your legs, however, demanded that you stayed.
Heisenberg began exactly as he said he would - listing off your name and age with that ever lilting voice that made your cunt clench in delight.
"Body is in...fuck...the most gorgeous condition..."
Playing dead was so hard when he was out of view. Heisenberg was so expressive and you were missing all the nuances you so adored. You could only picture him studying you - licking those delectably thick lips that you loved to nip. The fact that he was fully clothed and hovering over your naked body was as thrilling as it was nerve wracking.
Part of you willed stillness on the sheer fear that if you moved, the spell would be broken and Heisenberg’s role of doctor would be traded for actual work. Convincing him of doing this had not been the simplest task. The first time he caught you listening to one of his medical logs, he had raised a quizzical eyebrow and chuckled lightly at your blush. When you laid in his arms after making love one morning, you had shyly admitted the desires that had been ignited simply by listening to his voice.
"I think they umm...I think it's technically called medical play..."
The swiftness with which he cut you off still made you feel shame. "I'm not experimenting on you."
It took all the strength you could muster to look at him despite your cheeks absolutely burning. You placed a hand on his own cheek to rub the pad of your finger over one of his scars. "No. No...that's not what I meant. It's pretend. For fun. Roleplaying basically..."
You loved when his glasses were missing from his face. Green eyes flickered - studying you intently - before his lips stretched into an attractive smirk. "Would that turn you on, buttercup?"
And so the two of you had planned. It was convenient that the toys you needed were inconspicuous medical equipment. Most you already had and the others were obtained from the Duke without suspicion. At least you hoped. He was always a jovial fellow and at least didn't question the use for the pinwheel. Where the rest came from, you did not question. It wouldn't do to dwell on the purpose or origin when living in the shadow of Miranda's clutches.
When Heisenberg's hand ghosted near your head in the present, you repressed the want to moan.
"Proceeding with inspection..."
One leather clad hand cupped a cheek while a bare, calloused fingertip lined your lips. You could not entirely make him out like this, but you could see his green undershirt in delightful detail if you rolled your eyes high enough. His trench coat and his outer shirt had been discarded and the thought made your skin prickle. The spirals of his chest hair peeking from his shirt made your fingers tent with a want to touch him.
But cadavers couldn't move. So you swallowed and resisted the temptation to dart your tongue to meet his caress.
"Subject has the softest lips...prettiest damn thing I've ever studied."
Heat and the ever lingering static that was Heisenberg radiated just a breath behind you. If you had any courage to move just so, you imagined that his crotch sat just above your line of sight.
Would he already be hard? Heisenberg had held his typical swagger when you had mapped out your wants and respected his limitations. But you could tell that hesitancy still sat not so lightly on his shoulders. Perhaps he would need to drag things out - let his pleasure build as yours boiled in every limb.
Eyes half lidded, you nearly missed the scalpel floating gingerly through the air. As Heisenberg had insisted, only the handle touched your skin. Beginning at the curve of your jaw, it traced ever so slowly down your throat like a breath. Despite the lack of danger, the sensitive skin pimpled and your throat constricted.
"It's as if I built her myself...everything I could ever fucking want. Absolute damn perfection," he muttered. Feeling drunk off his words, you struggled to keep up with them all. After all, you were not sure how sensitive the recording would be. Heisenberg was a loud man - a grand man - and so rarely whispered as he did now. "A lovely neck...if only I had found her sooner...might have given her a necklace of teeth marks to wear."
When the scalpel slipped to your chest, your gasp could not be stifled. But instead of stopping, Heisenberg simply removed his fingers from your face to set both hands in a frame on either side of your head. He was adjusting and leaning and soon his eyes met with yours. Though you could not see anything below the rugged slope of his nose, you imagined his mouth as slightly parted.
His eyes were normally flecked with golds and browns, but the darkness there now was not an uncommon sight. You saw it when he was angry - returning from family meetings or trips to the Dimitrescu castle. Whenever his facade had been tested for too long with his "mother" and the walls came crashing down the moment the doors to the factory were closed.
You also saw it when he was lost to lust - when he used arms as steady as steel to hold you to him until you were both limp messes on the floor or the desk or the shower or the bed.
It was a color you so treasured - especially when the hints of softness clouded them as they did now.
Heisenberg's voice careened and curled just like the scalpel's handle around your breast. So light but so heavy.
"I don't need any damn notes for these tits...have them fucking memorized. Fuck what I wouldn't give to put my mouth on them. What a damn waste. Body is so cold and those nipples are perked up so nicely. Inspecting..." He audibly swallowed, clearing his throat. "Inspecting chest in detail now."
While the scalpel handle swirled against one of your nipples, Heisenberg's gloved hand went to your ignored breast in a firm squeeze. You were already so worked up by the mere prospect of your play. To have it as a reality with Heisenberg towering over you and switching his attention from your breasts to your eyes to your lips and back again was absolute torture. The leather on his fingers did nothing to help you. The gloves were old and worn into a fibrous texture that made every hair on your neck stand on end.
Your lover was a cruel man, but not a patient one. With his pointer finger and thumb, he twisted your nipple. Eyes clapping shut, you shook when you realized a tremble in the scalpel. A telltale sign of his passions rising and his powers thrumming along with them.
"Color?" he asked in a voice of gravel.
It took you a moment to understand his inquiry. Your stoplight system. That Heisenberg was already checking in with you filled you with a whole new type of warmth. Nodding with flushed cheeks, you ran your tongue against the roof of your mouth.
"Green," you muttered.
So he continued.
"Nipples are extremely responsive." The scalpel and his hand pulled away but for a moment before the sides were switched. But with them came the feeling of his bare hand on your equally bare chest. "I could stand here all day just admiring the view. Not a damn thing to say to do it justice."
He flitted between a tender touch and a rolling, twinging pinch. The scalpel rolled along with it all, though there were intervals when it remained still against your skin. As if his mind could not keep up with it all. It would start back again with a lurch and small grunts of frustration from its master.
"Moving to the lower torso..."
Your body arched when he moved and broke contact with your skin. The scalpel's trail became steadier as it looped around your breast to slide so terribly slow down the middle of your chest. Down it slipped and once again your fingers were fidgety. The skin of your stomach felt particularly sensitive, especially when the scalpel began to dance in patterns too quick and too slow for your mind to process.
"These hips of hers...the legs...hard not to get too ahead of myself..."
Though you could not see him at all now with your head locked in its position, it made the situation all the more welcome to your growing need. In your mind he studied you - watched your body with all the appreciation he was so fond of giving it. He might pay attention to your stomach - to the invisible designs he was tracing there. But his eyes would inevitably flicker to look between your legs. There was no gown or sheet to protect you from his hungry gaze. There was nothing at all preventing him from doing the myriad of things that you longed for him to do.
By the sound of his breathing, you knew Heisenberg was not left unaffected.
"Subject...is gonna fucking pay for making part of my work part of her play," he growled. "Do you have any idea how distracted I'm going to be every time I go in for an actual log? But you don't care, do you? It's all about you."
Tension hung in the air and one of your legs stretched upward, suddenly aching.
Heisenberg's hand came down fast to push it back into place.
"Didn't say I wasn't gonna indulge you," he said, playfulness in his voice. He gripped your knee still held in his hand with a soft touch. "Just that you'll pay for this later."
Lightly nodding, you felt his hand leave you. Your entire body tensed when the scalpel - ever streaming down your skin - began a descent that told you just how impatient Heisenberg had become.
It didn't help that a series of items - familiar and agreed upon in advance - floated over you on a glinting silver tray. You could not tell if they moved slowly due to his powers flitting with his emotions or if he simply was intent on you seeing them.
A bottle of lube. A bullet vibrator and its controller. The Wartenberg pinwheel. Another scalpel for the hell of it.
If the scalpel on your skin ran near your aching cunt, you never felt it. The next thing you knew, it was landing on your thigh and stalling.
As if he could not help himself, his hands were on you again. This time instead of pushing a leg onto the table, he pried both of your legs open with a prodding touch.
Though it broke your play, you took a large inhale of air. You could not recall ever being so wet or so ready.
Heisenberg let out a low whistle.
"You're soaked, buttercup." A pause. The telltale sound of buckles being clicked and dropped to the floor.
You could not take it and spoke with a whine.
"Not fair...I can't see you."
The chuckle he gave was dark. "A shame. It's like someone asked for this. Ironic. You're such a whore that your little game is preventing you from watching me. And I know how you love to watch."
The asshole took his time to slowly unzip his pants. The heat in your body was palpable and painful. A small gratified groan told you all you needed to know about where his hands had gone.
"Pretty, pretty girl..." he cooed. "Show isn't over yet. You had some requests and what kind of a lord would I be if I was to ignore one of my subject's pleas?"
The knowledge that he was stroking himself - languid even as your longing screamed through your very soul - made the pit of your stomach pulse with delayed pleasure.
Trying to even your breathing, you focused on the ceiling laid brown and bare above you. Or at least you tried. Heisenberg chose the absolute worst moment to bring both the second scalpel's handle and the brand new pinwheel onto the scene.
Huffing heatedly, you scrunched your face into a grimace. What a sight you must be - a scalpel on each thigh and a pinwheel hanging dangerously close to your cunt. You pushed the thought aside, unable to bear the image in your head.
"To the main event," he announced, voice returned to a rumbling purr. "Planting the 'control device.' Inserting now."
When he had added lube to the bullet, you did not know. Probably somewhere between your embarrassment and the blood pounding in your ears. Small and sleek, it entered your folds gently but awkwardly. Heisenberg's powers going on the fritz would never cease to endear you. He was so strong - so normally loud and wearing whatever mask that a situation called for. But in these moments with you, he was raw and his powers were unhinged in the most intimate of ways. It made you feel powerful - the ability to bring this lord of metal to timid movements when he could likely destroy the whole village with enough metal and mental will.
Rounding its way deeper and deeper inside of you, the bullet suddenly stilled. The sensations of the scalpels skating up and down your legs combined with the threat of the pinwheel overwhelmed you. If you had wanted to speak in that moment, it would have been quite out of your ability to remember how.
"Insertion complete."
Babbling during sex was another staple of Heisenberg's. But he was eerily quiet and controlled in the seconds that followed right up to the click of the controller.
The jolt to your core was immediate and you gasped in hurried breaths against the most exquisite pleasure you had ever felt. The fight to keep your fingers extended was lost as all ten fisted. You were so wet that the lube had been a moot point. The bullet buzzed inside of you and your hips shook with the herculean effort of staying still.
Heisenberg exhaled, voice faraway and dreamy.
"Ausgezeichnet...excellent. Progressing faster than expected."
You choked on air. Beyond your control, your body flinched against the hum of the bullet.
"Fuck," bit out Heisenberg. "Have a proposition for you...since you're going to be punished for making me work, I'm going to go back to the recording-"
"Oh God!"
"I'm going to go back to the recording," he repeated gruffly, ever incensed at being spoken over. "And I'm going to count the seconds that it takes for you to come. And however many seconds that is...that's how many spanks you'll be getting. Right on that luscious fucking ass of yours."
Another click of the bullet's controller made your eyes roll to the back of your head. Fingernails bit into your palm with the want to hold onto something - anything. How could you be so stimulated yet so far from release at the same time?
"I can see everything from where I'm standing," he continued. "Can you feel that wetness of yours? Dripping into your ass...pussy such a pretty pink shade. It'll go so nice with a red ass. One, two, three...you're building up to quite the spanking. Might want to hurry it along."
He was indeed a cruel man.
But not a patient one.
The pinwheel's weight was noticeable, but not deep. It pinched and rolled its way directly down and over your clit and the sensitive flesh splayed and shaking from sensation.
How you hated the gargle that you let out. It was ugly and incoherent.
"Too much!" you cried.
"Scheisse!" The pinwheel flew to the floor as the scalpels stopped. Even the bullet seemed to rumble ever lighter. "Color?"
It took you several breaths to gather the ability to nod. When Heisenberg remained quiet, you grunted. "Green...green...fucking green. Floor it."
Heisenberg laughed - all throat and no breath. "Floor it. Gotcha."
Making a strange sound - somewhere between a groan and a grunt - Heisenberg returned his hands to your body.
The hand free from leather stroked your thigh. The leather, however, fondled your mound and found your clit with practiced speed.
Barely able to keep up with the bullet and the scalpels and the trembles and the sound of Heisenberg's guttural encouragements, you closed your eyes and focused on the circles he made against that sensitive bundle of nerves.
You could not open your eyes or close your mouth. You could not do anything but chase a high approaching as sure as any sunrise.
Apparently taking pity on the mess you had become, Heisenberg only took one swift last round on your clit before speaking.
"Now to pass a current...through the body...using six volts..."
The words had no time to settle in before the action was done with his gentle hand on your quivering thigh.
Screaming, too, was beyond your control.
"Come on," he said through the return to your clit and the massage in your cunt and the swirls of scalpel handles on your legs. "Come on, come on, come on."
"KAR...k...kah..."
Your orgasm knocked the very air from your lungs. Pins of light erupted as your eyes squeezed with every furious flutter of pleasure. Your cunt was actually twitching and the glove on Heisenberg's hand felt so exquisite as it barely pressed down on your clit.
"Yes! Yes!" Egging you on with a happy laugh, Heisenberg uttered praises that registered in a haze. "At last...wonderful...what a good girl."
As the absolutely mind-numbing orgasm faded into your very bones, you lay there exhausted and beyond satisfied. Breathing became a chore that your throat seemed unused to performing.
Heisenberg moved as efficiently as ever to complete his work. The bullet was removed with care by his own fingers. When it had turned off, you had no recollection. The scalpels clattered to the table with a metallic hiss.
Sweat built on your brow and dragging down your temple, you swallowed and swallowed again. The sound of rushing water perked your tired body. You were slow to rise, testing fingers and a palm burning with indents of your nails. Soon, however, you had sat up. A swirl of satisfaction still sat low in your belly.
As satiated as you were, you could not help but enjoy the sight of Heisenberg standing before you. In one hand was a glass of water begging to be brought to your parched lips. In the other he held the recorder. You watched with hooded eyes as he clutched at the recorder before dropping his hand to adjust his pants.
Pants that hung low on his hips with the zipper pulled wide. The adorable swell of his lower belly was visible underneath his shirt. His cock was curved at such a beautiful angle above silver hair. It was blushed a dark pink with veins reaching up to a head that was nearly purple with need.
Bringing the recorder back to his mouth, Heisenberg eyed you before huffing.
"...ending recording."
#karl heisenberg x reader#karl heisenberg x you#karl heisenberg#resident evil#re village#ao3#smut#kinks with karl#x reader
89 notes
·
View notes
Text
My Rean x Sara headcannons
I finished my 2nd playthroughs of the entire Trails of Cold Steel series recently and mannn do I just wish the romance endings had more meat on the bone.
Naturally, I read ALL the Rean x Sara fanfic on AO3 and realized how different others visualized their relationship. The main being the variations of possessiveness. So I wanted to share my HCs to the other like 10 RxS Tumblr blogs 😋
HC: They mutually respect each other as individuals first and foremost. They take on a more professional approach for all serious situations. Compared to the rest of their allies (minus Fie) they're consistently helping people. Most of class vii pretty much normal jobs but Rean is still out there taking care of people's safety non-stop. Rean is essentially a bracer as well in that sense.
How does Sara react to all the girls fawning over Rean? She finds it amusing. "Ha! All these girls don't stand a chance. Rean doesn't even notice their feelings or react to their flirting. But I can make that man blush and feel bashful whenever I want to. They don't even notice that he only has eyes for me. Such silly girls.." Sara and Rean are completely confident and secure about their relationship.
When I got confessions scenes during my playthroughs, most of them Rean was just like "??? Huh what do they mean? I'm lost. I need a dictionary to understand what they just said."
But both times when Sara confesses to him, he immediately reacts, almost like "woah! Holy shit, did she just kiss me on the cheek?! Am I dreaming?! uwu!!"
Sara's bonding events in CSIV really hit me too and how much she trusts Rean by letting him in and opening up about her dad. When they go to his grave and even make plans to visit North Amberia.. so he can tell him that he's taking care of Sara?! 😭 100% trust, respect and love for one another.
They do hide their relationship only because they don't want to distract others from the tasks at hand. They however do little things when shit is about to hit the fan, like reassuring hand squeezes when no one is looking or just little nods to each other as if to silently say "We're coming back alive and safe. We're not going to lose each other. I love you"
I also like to think that after his class vii graduates he joins the bracer guild and they kick ass together, happily ever after.
Oh yeah and they adopt Altina because not only is Altina fond of Rean but she was also in North Amberia with Rean and Sara. I'm sure Sara became fond of Altina as well for helping keep her home country safe.
NSFW~ They're really into teacher/student roleplay 🤣😏
list of Rean's other relationships HC:
Crow (and Valimar 😭) = best friend
Jusis and Machias = best "couple" friends
Altina = adopted child (all of new class vii really are his adopted kids in a small amount)
Emma and Celine = his "mom" friends
Toval and Olivert = his "night out with the boys!!" Close friends
20 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello, darling. I come bearing requests! May we have a little Geraskier dagger/swordplay? Some light threatening of a weak-kneed witcher, pretty please?
Swordplay... in my inbox?? What a treat!
This is modern AU. Jask is an actor, Geralt is... somethiing? Fight choreographer perhaps?
Warnings: Swordplay, weapons kink, dom/sub vibes, subspace, slightly under negotiated kink but there is explicit consent (they’ll talk more about it after cos boundaries are important y’all), mentions of blow jobs and genitalia but no sex (sorry), roleplay, horny pre-smut.... there’s a lot of warning in this one... oops. 18+
Jaskier stood panting in the middle of the gym, the sword still raised, sweat dripping down his face. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was sticking to his forehead. By all accounts he should have looked disgusting but Geralt couldn’t tear his eyes away from the actor. He’d bulked up for the role of the dashing young pirate, and thick muscles were visible under the t-shirt that clung to his body.
Jaskier wiped his sweaty fringe off his forehead and huffed. “Phew, I think I did pretty good that time, right, Geralt?”
Geralt watched, entranced as Jaskier draped the sword behind his neck, gripping the blade with his hand. Logically, Geralt knew the sword was blunt, just a prop sword but the sight of Jaskier holding the steel blade so casually, so confidently….
It made his head spin.
He desperately tried to think of something other than the way Jaskier’s fingers curled around the hilt on the sword, the dangerous smirk on his face when he’d held Geralt at sword point, casting Geralt’s sword aside with ease, his onscreen character bleeding through into their training.
Geralt swallowed, his cock filing out in his sweatpants despite his best efforts to keep his cool. He just hoped that Jaskier wouldn’t notice. His crush on the young starlet was embarrassing enough as it was, he didn’t need the man knowing about it, but unfortunately the gods were not on his side.
“Geralt? I said….” Jaskier trailed off. “Oh”
Geralt felt his cheeks heat up. He turned on his heels, he needed to put the training swords away and make sure the props were ready for shooting the next day. He could still escape this but…
“Don’t move,” Jaskier hissed, his voice like ice.
Geralt shivered and closed his eyes, letting Jaskier’s voice wash over him. He felt the point of Jaskier’s sword kiss his neck. His head felt fuzzy, and his heart was racing. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to try and keep himself from falling to his knees in front of the actor. He couldn’t help it, he felt weak, his walls crumbling around him.
“Jaskier,” his voice barely above a whisper “this isn’t a good idea.”
“Turn around.”
Geralt turned around, eyes still shut, he couldn’t bear to see Jaskier’s face, the inevitable disappointment.
“Open your eyes.”
“Jaskier…”
“I said open them,” Jaskier snapped.
Geralt did as he was told and swallowed, it wasn’t Jaskier standing in front of him any longer. Gone was the loving carefree actor who tripped over his own feet and could barely hold the sword without dropping it… this was the fierce pirate captain that he’d been perfecting over the last few weeks.
“Yes sir,” Geralt mumbled before he could stop himself, but Jaskier smirked and he knew he’d said the right thing.
The actor stepped forward, nudging Geralt’s chin up with the tip of his sword. “Good boy.”
Geralt couldn’t help the moan that fell from his lips. “Jask,”
The coldness faded from Jaskier’s eyes, replaced with the warmth that Geralt had grown to love. The sword dropped to Jaskier’s side and a hand cupped his cheek, pulling him from the haze. “Hey, Geralt? Is this alright? I didn’t mean… I just saw, I didn’t mean to look it’s just… well…”
Geralt cut the actor off with a kiss, pressing their bodies together so that Jaskier could feel how hard he was, groaning as Jaskier’s own erection rubbed against his. “S’good.”
“Stop me,” Jaskier panted “anytime… tell me to stop and I will.”
Geralt hummed against his lips, drunk in the sensation of kissing Jaskier. Jaskier’s free hand threaded through his hair and pulled… hard. He moaned, letting Jaskier pull his head back, baring his neck to the actor.
“Do you understand, Geralt? Yes or no?” Jaskier asked, the coolness starting to slip back into his voice.
“Yes.”
“Yes?”
Geralt whined “Yes, sir.”
“Good boy,” Jaskier cooed and then Geralt was pushed backwards, he finally fell to his knees in front of the actor, bowing his head instinctively.
The tip of the sword caressed his cheek, “Oh sweetheart, you pretty thing, you were just begging to be captured weren’t you? Did you even try to fight me, or were you hoping that I’d take you on board my ship?”
Geralt hummed, not finding any words through the haze. He felt so warm, the cold steel almost burning where it touched his skin. Jaskier’s voice was like the sweetest nectar, his pirate captain.
“Well, pretty one, perhaps if you suck my cock well enough, I’ll allow you to stay?”
“Please,” Geralt mumbled, the word feeling heavy on his tongue.
“Go on the, sweetheart, I don’t like to be kept waiting,” his captain breathed, the sword now resting along Geralt’s spine as a hand draped over his shoulder, he nuzzled the captain through his trousers with a hum, mouthing at the bulge through the fabric, he wanted to impress him… he wanted…
“Fuck,” he groaned and scrambled to pull down Jaskier’s trousers, hoping that today was just the beginning of something new.
#the witcher#geraskier#geraskier modern au#actor!Jaskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier pankratz#wolfie's witcher writing#Anonymous
155 notes
·
View notes
Text
risky business | dabi
Rated: M
Words: 5.3K
Pairing: dabi x fem!reader
Summary: On your way home, you run into Dabi. He has no intentions of letting you go without having a little fun.
AN: This is a secret santa gift for @vixen-scribbles <3 I don’t think we’ve spoken much, but I hope you had a wonderful holiday! Also a special thanks to @the-smut-pile for hosting this exchange! This is by far the riskiest (hur hur) thing I’ve ever written, so I hope all of the degenerates out there are happy lmao
Warnings: smut, dubcon (consensual non-consent/roleplay), predator/prey undertones, knife play (and minor blood play) public/outdoor sex, mentions of voyeurism/exhibitionism, anal play, dirty talk (degradation), choking, hair-pulling, spanking/slapping, spitting rough sex, overstimulation, creampie/unprotected sex, aftercare at the end
Blue eyes stare down at you tauntingly from across the alley. He cocks his head to one side, watching as you shrink back against the wall. Amusement flickers across his face, a sick smirk tugging at his lips as you stare back at him, wide-eyed. Frozen in place now that there’s nowhere left to run. There’s a scream lodged in the back of your throat, trying to force its way out, but icy fear tears through your chest and rips the air from your lungs.
As your bottom lip trembles, his smirk only grows, pulling grotesquely at the staples holding his mismatched skin together. Burning, turquoise eyes look you over slowly, trailing from your terrified expression to your legs, your bare skin on display thanks to your short little skirt. Hungrily, he devours you with his eyes. Expression calculated. His eyes are practically glowing as he stalks towards you, his irises reflecting the light of the blue flames dancing threateningly on the tips of his fingers.
The predatory glint in his gaze makes your stomach twist into knots, but you still can’t will your legs to move.
“Well, what do we have here?” Dabi asks, his voice low and rough. A shiver runs down your spine. He stops when the two of you are nearly touching, an inch of space left between his chest and yours. Close enough for you to feel the immense heat radiating from the flames. “You lost, sweetheart?”
Concern drips from his tongue, but it’s mocking. Snide. Maybe the question would sound sincere if you didn’t know exactly who he was. If it wasn’t a wanted criminal standing in front of you. A villain. If he wasn’t looking at you like you were prey that he hunted down.
He’s playing with you. Toying with you now that he finally has you cornered. The chase was fun while it lasted, but now he has you right where he wants you, looking up at him like you’re nothing but a scared little animal. It’s pitiful, really. How easy it was. You made it so easy for him to catch you, almost like you wanted to be caught. A willing participant in the game of cat and mouse.
You don’t respond. Can’t. Desperate, your gaze flicks towards the mouth of the alley, hoping to find someone who could help you. The streets are still busy this late at night, the last train yet to depart.
It’s with a sinking feeling that you realize no one is going to help you. Most of the passersby refuse to look into the dark alley. And the lone man who does quickly averts his eyes.
Dabi’s gaze follows yours. Sick satisfaction bubbles in his chest when he watches the same man scurry away, his eyes wrenched away from the scene, ignoring what he’s just seen.
The flames licking at his knuckles extinguish themselves. Smoke wafts through the night air, dispersing slowly.
The tips of Dabi’s fingers scorch your skin as he grabs you by your jaw, digits digging into your chin. You wince as he yanks your head around, forcing you to face him. The fire is gone, but his hands are still burning hot, and his grip is tight enough to hurt. When your eyes lock, you find it impossible to turn away. Hypnotized by that deep shade of blue.
Suddenly, your mouth starts to work. “Please,” is all you manage to choke out, trying to beg him to stop, but the rest of the words die on your tongue.
“That’s right. Start begging like the little slut you are.” You want to shake your head, but his grip is too tight. “I’m in a good mood tonight,” he says, digging his fingers into your cheeks even harder, liking the pained grimace you give him. “Be a good girl for me and this won’t hurt too much.”
Hot fingers brush against your bare leg, and you’re wrenched back to reality. You slam your hands into his chest and shove him away. He grunts, taken off-guard by your boldness, and stumbles back just enough for you to slip away. You throw yourself to the side, lunging towards the mouth of the alley. But Dabi is faster. Before you can get far, he’s on you again. A strong arm wraps around your waist and hauls you back. You start to cry out, but the sound is smothered by a scarred palm covering your mouth. Instinct drives you to lash out, but Dabi throws you up against the wall before you can kick him.
It knocks the breath out of you. This time, his hand wraps around your throat and squeezes hard, choking you. It doesn’t take long for black spots to dot your vision. Your hands scramble for purchase around his wrist in a weak attempt to pull his hand away. Hot metal burns your fingertips. And you claw at him, your nails digging into the back of his hand and ripping at the staples holding him together.
Dabi swears as you manage to tear one of them out. The bloody staple clatters to the pavement, and the quiet, metallic chiming sound it makes might as well be a death toll. It’s followed by a louder shink that makes your blood freeze in your veins.
Cold metal grazes your cheek. Your struggling comes to an abrupt halt, your grip on his wrist loosening. Heart skipping a beat, your stomach twists as he carefully drags a knife down to your jaw, the sharp tip digging into your soft skin, though Dabi is careful not to cut you.
He sighs, low and frustrated, and you fight the urge to curl into yourself when he levels you with a harsh look, blue eyes alight. “You really wanna piss me off, dollface?” As he taps the blade against your cheek, you squeeze your thighs together, ashamed of the slick feeling growing between your legs.
When it becomes clear you aren’t going to fight him again, he releases your throat. Lightheaded, you gasp for breath. The knife shifts away from your skin, but doesn’t go far. Moonlight reflects off the blade as Dabi holds it in front of you, letting you get a good look at the thin, sharp object. The threat is blatant, and you shrink back against the wall.
There’s an audible hitch in your breathing as the tip of the knife touches your collarbone. The cold steel against your bare skin almost makes you flinch, and Dabi chuckles when he hears the small, shaky sound that falls out of your pretty mouth.
“Not so brave now, huh?” he murmurs, dragging the flat side of the knife along the column of your throat. You shiver as he ghosts the blade over your pulse point. “You gonna behave this time, or do I have to teach you a lesson first, pretty girl?”
The question hits you between your ribs, and you bite your lip when the knife slides back over your collarbone, trailing towards your cleavage. He clucks his tongue when you don’t respond. “Answer me,” he demands.
The blade stops when he reaches the top button on your shirt. You hold your breath as the sharp tip slips beneath the fabric. The button pops off and falls to the ground as Dabi slices through the thin string holding it together, revealing more of your pretty skin to his predatory gaze.
With the knife tracing the curve of your breast, you don’t dare ignore him. “No. I’ll—I’ll behave,” you tell him, stumbling over your words. Unintentionally, you arch your chest into his hand as the knife presses against you even harder, just shy of marking you.
“Good girl.” Dabi slips the knife under the next button, but changes his mind before he can cut it. Instead, he places the blade under your chin, forcing you to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “Now why don’t you strip for me?”
Your eyes widen. “What?”
“You heard me.” Dabi shoves his knee between your thighs, forcing your legs apart. Your stomach rolls, but you have to stifle a moan when he grinds his leg against your clit through your panties. “Give me a show. Nice and slow, and maybe I’ll let you cum when I fuck your cunt.”
There’s something perverse about undressing yourself for him. Letting him watch as your shaking fingers fumble with the buttons on your shirt, practically ripping at them in your hurry to comply. He’s making you a willing participant in your own humiliation. Dabi wets his lips, rocking his thigh against your cunt with every button you pop open, which only makes you fumble more.
It doesn’t take long for him to grow impatient. As you struggle with the last button, Dabi murmurs a curse and tears your shirt open for you.
In his haste, the knife nicks your collarbone. The pain makes you whimper, and you flinch, causing the knife to dig into you harder before he angles it away. Blood wells in the cut. It isn’t too deep, or too long, but it stings. Your hips jerk against Dabi’s thigh, grinding against him. This time you moan outright, pleasure mixing with the pain, though you’re ashamed of yourself for it.
Dabi tenses when you mewl and rut against him, watching, fascinated, as a line of blood drips down your chest and soaks into the lacy cup of your bra. Even in the dark he can see the fabric stain.
There’s a split-second pause after as he presses the knife to your face. His demeanor shifts. Those blue eyes meet yours, searching your gaze, and he hesitates. Like he’s waiting for something. There’s blood on the blade from when he cut your chest, and it smears across your mouth as he slowly traces your bottom lip. Your gaze doesn’t waver, and you taste iron on your tongue after he pulls the knife away.
He slips back into character as his fingers slip into your hair. Dabi grabs a fistful of the soft strands and yanks, forcing your head to the side. A pathetic little whimpering sound is all that comes tumbling out of your mouth, and he smirks as you look at him with wide, teary eyes that do the begging your mouth can’t.
Your shirt is left intact as his attention shifts lower. He removes his knee from between your legs, and you almost whine at the loss of contact that you know you shouldn’t want. It shouldn’t feel good, but it does.
The knife leaves your cheek.
You tense.
The flat of the knife teases the inside of your leg, and you don’t dare move as Dabi drags it higher, inching closer to your dripping pussy. His hand disappears under the hem of your skirt, and you mewl, back arching off the wall as a hot hand teases your sensitive inner thighs. The fabric bunches around his wrist, revealing inch after inch of velvety soft skin to the chilly air. He grabs your leg with his other hand. Scorching fingers dig into your thigh, easily prying your legs further apart. As you shiver, Dabi runs the blade against you, making you squirm even more from the cold and the underlying threat of danger.
He stops. Looking down at your trembling form, Dabi eyes the mess he’s made of you already: your shirt ripped open, chest bloody where the knife sliced you open so easily, your skirt hiked up over your quivering thighs. You’re practically begging for him to bury his cock inside of you. Fuck you like a little bitch in heat.
You’d take his cock so well. Squeeze him just right. But he’s not done playing with you quite yet.
Suddenly, the knife is pressed up against your panties. The flat edge grinds against your clit, and you squeal. Without thinking, you grab his arm again, this time to steady yourself. His fingers are slick with blood where you ripped out one of his staples, but you don’t care, clinging to him as your legs threaten to give out. Your head falls back against the brick wall as he rubs the blade against your covered slit. “Don’t,” you plead, voice weak and laced with arousal. “Please…”
Dabi laughs when a soft, pleased mewl slips from your lips, your hips rolling back against his hand as he rubs your clit with the flat of the knife. It’s fucking filthy. Hot. And you hate how good it feels to have him play with your pussy like this.
You willingly spread your legs for him this time, and Dabi finally pulls your skirt over your hips. He leaves it bunched around your waist and takes a small step back to watch you grind your slutty cunt against the knife.
By now, your panties are soaked with your arousal. An ache settles low in your belly, and your walls clench around nothing as he presses harder against your clit. Tears burn at the backs of your eyes, shame swirling sickly in your stomach as you tug on his wrist instead of pushing it away.
The blade shines under the moonlight, glimmering wetly, and he quirks a brow. You barely stifle a whimper as he pulls his hand from between your legs. Before you can squeeze them shut, he shoves his knee between your legs again, his thigh grinding up against your pussy, not allowing you a moment to breathe.
“Look at that,” he muses, twisting the knife between his fingers so that you can see your own slick glistening on the blade. “Fuck, that’s hot. Thought you didn’t want me, dollface?” Your skin burns where he touches you. “Look how fucking wet you are already. Kinky little slut.” You turn your head away, but Dabi grabs your chin and forces you to look at how wet he made you.
When he’s sure you’re paying attention, he lifts the knife to his mouth. Heat flares in your belly as he licks your slick from the blade. Taunting you.
You slump forward as he yanks his knee away from your pussy, your legs giving out underneath you. Dabi catches you, manhandling you as he grabs your hips and spins you around; shoves you up against the wall, your cheek pressed to the bricks as his hand fists in your hair. You barely have time to steady yourself with your hands. Dabi presses the knife against the curve of your ass cheek, and you gasp as the sharp blade slips under your panties. He cuts the lacy fabric away and it flutters down, catching around your ankle. It’s soaked through with your arousal, cold against your leg.
The knife dangles from his fingers, pressed up against the inside of your thigh. The blade barely grazes your clit this time, teasing your slick folds. This time you can feel the cold metal against your swollen nerves, the sharp edge so close to nicking your sensitive folds.
Dabi slaps your ass suddenly. You squeal, hips lurching against the knife. He angles the blade away before you can cut yourself, spreading your cheeks apart so he can see your dripping slit. By now, you’re practically trying to grind against the knife, anything to relieve the tension between your shaking legs. It hurts. And the humiliation that washes over you only makes it worse.
“Gonna cum for me already?” Dabi asks, watching your hips stutter as he brings the knife back to your thigh. You whimper as he nicks you again. Warm, wet liquid beads in the cut, blood mixing with the fluids dripping from your drenched pussy. The blood smears against your leg as he rubs his knuckles against you. “Dirty bitch. Cum then. Or do you need a little help getting there? Hmm? You want me to make you cum all over my fucking hand?”
You shake your head, sobbing as he tosses the knife to the ground. Dabi’s arm wraps around your front as he brings his hand back to your leg. His fingers burn as they trail across your inner thigh. Small welts in the shape of his fingertips scorch your skin, leaving marks that won’t disappear for weeks.
Lazily, he strokes your clit, hand still hot to the touch as he rolls the swollen nub with his thumb. His chest molds against your back, crushing you between him and the wall as he traces your slit with two fingers.
Your body responds eagerly to his touch, your legs spreading to accommodate his hand. He chuckles as your hips roll against him, practically begging for him to fuck you, to make you cum over and over until you can’t take it anymore. And he’s more than willing to give your body what it wants.
You gasp as he shoves two of his fingers into your pussy, immediately picking up a harsh pace as he fucks you with his hand. You make it easy for him, your pussy taking his fingers so fucking well. They’re thick and long inside you, and it doesn’t take him long to find that spot that makes you squirm and cry out.
He shoves your face harder against the wall. Bits of brick dig into your cheek, but you barely feel them as he grinds his palm against your clit.
Expression contorted with bliss, you whimper as he forces a third finger inside your tight cunt, your walls stretching around the digits. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, rough thrusts picking up speed as your legs tremble, threatening to give out beneath you. It stings. Too much. Too soon. But Dabi doesn’t stop his brutal pace, even when there are tears streaming down your face and you choke out a sob, pleading with him to stop or slow down.
That only seems to encourage him. He yanks on your hair, pulling your head back against his shoulder so that your back is arched and he can see the line of blood dripping down your chest. You wince as one of the staples on his palm catches on your clit. The cool, metallic sensation is foreign and rough, but so, so good. Dabi grinds against your ass suddenly, making sure you feel every inch of his hard cock.
There’s a mocking tone in his voice when he asks, “That hurt?” He presses his thumb against your clit, rubbing with fast circles. “Can’t be that bad if it’s making you this fucking wet. Bet you like this, huh? Fucking slut. Letting a villain play with your cunt like this. Are you gonna cum for me? Fuck, this pussy is gonna feel so good around my cock.”
Your cheeks burn as you hear the slick sound of his fingers thrusting into your pussy, fluid dripping down his hand. Humiliation burns in your chest as you realize how quickly he’s going to make you cum just by fingering you in some dirty back alley. And your body betrays you, your cunt clenching around his fingers as those staples rub against your swollen clit again. The contrast between his hot fingers and the cold metal is dizzying.
“Please,” you whimper as he curls his fingers against your sensitive walls. Your pussy clenches around him tighter, a knot winding tight in your belly as he forces you closer to the edge.
Dabi lets go of your hair. You moan as he slaps the back of your thigh. “Desperate little bitch,” he calls you. “Begging me to play with your dripping cunt in some dirty back alley. Now fucking cum. That’s all you’re fucking good for.”
It’s him degrading you that gives you that last push you need, your body unable to fight him anymore. Dabi’s fingers curl just right and your hips buck into his hand, taking him deeper. Those staples rub against your clit harder, and your body locks up as an orgasm rips through you, leaving you breathless as you cum all over his fingers with a silent scream.
He drags your pleasure out until you’re crying, but you’re too weak to push him away. All you can do is squirm and cum again as he overstimulates you. And you feel empty when he finally pulls his drenched fingers from your cunt.
You slump against the wall as he lets go, fingers scraping the bricks as you try to hold yourself up on your trembling legs. He doesn’t allow you to get comfortable though. Dabi’s hand slaps your ass, and he chuckles when you squeal. He takes a step back, watching your cum drip down your thighs before glancing at your swollen pussy.
His belt jingles as he rips at the buckle, tearing at the leather. Your cunt clenches. Dabi shoves his pants down his hips just enough to pull out his thick cock, the tip flushed and beaded with pre-cum. He hisses as he strokes himself, his fingers running over the piercings lining the underside of his dick.
Somewhere in the back of your mind you realize his fingertips are on fire as he grabs your waist and forces you to bend over, giving him a nice view of your ass and your sloppy cunt. His grip on your hip is bruising, his burning fingers digging into your side harshly, branding you with more small burns. You flinch away from the heat, but Dabi only grabs you harder, holding you in place.
You whimper as he rubs his cock against your slit, rocking against you slowly just to torment you. The metal piercing through the head of his dick is hot enough to make your toes curl as it rubs against your sensitive clit, your nerves frayed from his earlier ministrations. The bricks beneath your hands scrape at your palms and scratch your cheek. Unwanted arousal further mixes with the sharp spikes of fear prickling at your skin, sending heat flooding your belly as slick drips down your inner thighs.
“Please,” you mewl as he reaches between your legs and lines his cock up with your entrance. Dabi easily knocks your legs apart when you try to squeeze them shut. “Please, stop, I can’t—” Your protests turn into a choked moan as he swipes a finger over your clit to shut you up, getting sick of your whining.
That’s all it takes to distract you, your naughty hips wiggling against him enticingly when he rubs with fast circles, his fingers heating up.
It’s amusing, Dabi thinks. How you keep pretending you don’t want this. How you keep telling him to stop when your body is begging for him. Little slut.
He buries himself inside of you with one hard thrust, splitting you open with his cock. You squeal, jerking, and buck against him, taking his cock even deeper as your walls stretch around him until it hurts. He’s so fucking big inside of you. Even his fingers weren’t enough to stretch you out. And the piercings lining the underside of his shaft rub your walls perfectly as he drags his cock back out until only the tip is left inside.
“Knew you wanted a fat cock inside of you,” Dabi sneers, laughing as you clench around him and moan. “Fucking cock slut.”
Dabi doesn’t let you breathe as he starts thrusting and grinding against your dripping cunt, fucking you roughly from behind. His hips slap against your ass with each hard thrust. His fingers dig into your waist. At some point, one of his hands palms your breast, slipping beneath your bra to pinch and pull at your nipple.
The filthy sound of your wet walls clinging to his thick cock fill the alley. Abruptly, you’re reminded that anyone could walk by and see you like this. Sobbing and moaning as you let a villain—a wanted criminal—fuck your soaked cunt. The thought makes you clench around him harder, your pussy sucking him in deeper.
And Dabi knows exactly what you’re thinking. “Fuck, your pussy feels good,” he tells you, grabbing either side of your waist so he can drag you back on his cock and fuck you harder, using you for his own pleasure. “You get off on this? Being fucked where anyone could see you?” He snorts. “Naughty girl.”
You shake your head weakly, and Dabi laughs at you again. More tears burn your eyes.
Dabi grins as you start rolling your hips back against his, finally taking his cock like a good girl. Your teary cries have softened into muffled moans and mewls, slutty little sounds that make his cock twitch. Every thrust makes his piercings rub against your walls. Your pussy won’t stop fluttering around him. Clenching and trying to take him deeper.
You’re dripping all over his cock and balls. Making a mess all over him with your sloppy pussy. He can’t help but dip one of his hands between your legs to run his fingers through your slick folds. He rubs your clit with his thumb until your hips start to twitch, then cruelly pulls away just to hear you whine and beg for him to touch you.
A slicked-up finger slips between your cheeks, and you squeak as Dabi’s thumb presses against your hole. The way you moan when the digit slips inside of you is needy and embarrassing. The knot in your stomach coils tighter as he stretches you out, playing with your ass as he fills you with his cock.
Your muscles clench around him. Dabi’s fingers dig into your ass cheek, spreading you apart so he can watch you take his cock, see his finger shoved inside of your other slutty hole. The sight makes his cock twitch inside you, and he groans.
Dabi’s thumb pops out of your hole. He slaps your ass hard enough to make you cry out. Fingertips dig into your skin, littering you with small burns that make you writhe underneath him. The air surrounding you is sweltering, leaving you sticky with sweat.
He grabs you by the neck, yanking you upright and pulling your back flush against his chest so he can whisper absolutely filthy things in your ear. You latch onto his wrist again, your head lolling back against his shoulder, back arched in a pretty curve. The new angle has his cock battering your sweet spot with every thrust, and your hips move with his, grinding back against him as his fingers constrict around your throat, choking you. Dabi shoves your torso against the wall, giving himself better leverage as he fucks you harder.
A hand dips between your legs again, this time to play with your clit, rolling and pinching it with his fingers. He’s going to make you cum one more time. Make you cum around his cock like the slut you are. Stubbornly, you try to squirm away from his rough touch, refusing to give in. Pissed, he slaps your cunt, making you squeal. Hot fingers roll over your clit, and this time you give in to the heat, letting it cloud your mind as you lose yourself to bliss.
Blue eyes glance at your parted lips, your mouth open as you pant, your eyes half-lidded and hazy. Dabi tightens his grip on your neck. Tilts your head back for a better angle. Spits in your mouth. Your eyes widen, but he squeezes your throat. “Swallow it,” he murmurs in your ear.
You do as you’re told, further humiliated. But you don’t have time to dwell on it as his cock pounds you and his fingers swirl over your clit just right.
Your mouth falls open as you clench around his cock, cumming hard, your orgasm tearing through you. It leaves you breathless. The only sound you make is a choked whimper, a mewl that almost sounds like his name, but it’s so muddled you can’t tell. Your legs tremble beneath you, Dabi’s chest and hands the only thing holding you up.
He fucks you through it, groaning again as your cunt spasms around him. Dabi drags your orgasm out until it hurts, your body sensitive and spent from everything he’s put you through.
With a resounding slap, he buries his cock inside of your pussy, cumming deep inside of you. The rush of warmth has your eyes fluttering shut, a sigh falling from your pretty mouth.
Thick, milky fluid drips down your thighs as he eases his cock out of you, tucking himself back into his pants. Cool air brushes against your wet cunt, and the uncomfortable feeling makes you shift. Dabi’s cum is sticky on your legs. Hot. And he slips a hand between your legs to shove it back into your pussy.
Your heart is still pounding in your chest when his grip starts to slacken. Dabi’s hand loosens around your throat, allowing you to breathe again. Heat sinks into your skin as he rubs his thumb against your hip, soothing a tender spot where his fingers dug into you a little too hard. There are burns there. Not bad enough to scar, but you’ll feel them later every time you move, his touch imprinted on your body, claiming you.
Possessiveness flairs in his chest, and he presses himself closer to your back, relishing the feeling of your body against his. Slowly, he moves his hand higher, slipping it under your ruined shirt. Two fingers tap against your waist, demanding attention like they did earlier, when he leaned in close while walking you home and told you to run. Indulging in a scene the two of you have only talked about before.
You looked at him with such wide eyes when he did, nervous and excited. It was the heat in his gaze that sent you running, pangs of arousal already getting you wet before he even caught you.
“Hey.”
Dabi sighs when you don’t react to the sound of his voice, your gaze far off as you stare at nothing, your breath slowly evening out. He adjusts his grip on your waist, squeezing you just a bit tighter to his chest. “Hey,” he tries again, jostling you with his shoulder. His fingers dig into your cheeks when he grabs your chin, gently turning your head towards him. The pad of his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, coaxing you back to him. The vacant look in your eyes slinks away when his gaze finds yours in the dark. And you sink into deep blue. “You with me, doll?”
The arm looped around your waist doesn’t lose its tension until you finally nod.
Slowly, you lean into the hand on your jaw, soothed by the heat and the rhythmic motion of his thumb stroking your cheek. Dabi lets you nuzzle into him, your eyes falling shut. His breath fans over the side of your face, and you subconsciously lean back against the warmth sinking into you from behind, seeking out his affection.
“Okay?” Dabi presses his lips to your temple, lingering as you sigh.
“You broke character,” you whisper as he eases you around in his arms. And you cling to him, hands fisted in the back of his jacket and your head tucked against the side of his neck.
He only shrugs. “Wanted to give you a chance to tell me to knock it off. Didn’t think you’d like me cutting you up like that.” His tone turns teasing. “But you took my cock so well, didn’t you, doll?” He runs his hands down your hips. “What a good girl. Next time I might fuck that cute ass, too.” Dabi grabs your cheeks and squeezes suddenly, and you squeal, giggling as he forces you up onto your toes. “Bet you’d like that.”
Dabi kisses from your neck to your collarbone, his lips finding the small cut he made. It’s stopped bleeding already, but there’s a ruby line trailing down your chest. You sigh as he focuses his attention there, being unusually soft with you.
You call out his name—his real name, but he shakes his head, pulling away to level you with a fond look, and you realize he needs this as much as you do. “Let’s get you home, doll.”
143 notes
·
View notes
Text
Eyes On You (MLQC Gavin - NSFW)
Description: Gavin discovers you in a compromising position, but finds that things aren’t necessarily as they seem
Warnings: NSFW/18+: Explicit/graphic language — reader discretion is advised. Potential Trigger Warnings: exhibitionism, masturbation, handcuffs, roleplaying, spanking, squirting, rough oral and penetrative sex.
Word Count: 1870 words (~9 mins of smut, the tiniest bit of fluff)
AO3: read here
Author’s Notes:
…and you KNOW I couldn’t pass this up LOL. Those of you who have already read my Roughhoused fic may appreciate the reference embedded in this story, as marked by an asterisk. Hope you all enjoy this and happy reading everyone! 😊
All characters & Mr Love: Queen’s Choice owned by Elex
🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍
Haloed in red, the lean, muscular figure stood with the setting sun at his back, shadow stretching long across the floor to reach for the tips of your toes, already curling above disheveled sheets.
Still he lingered at the entrance as you played with yours, the silver ginkgo leaf on your wrist brushing against feverish skin; cool, like the evening breeze that ruffled curtains thrown wide open.
An invitation.
Much like the balcony door deliberately left ajar so the vibrations of your voice would carry to a man who always felt you on the wind.
“Gavin.”
His name had reached his ears on a shaky whisper, and the officer was instantly propelling through the atmosphere, currents wrapping around limbs in quicksilver motion until he alighted on your balcony, the vein in his forehead already throbbing in anticipation of finding you within the jaws of danger.
What he hadn’t expected was a trap set especially for him.
For there you were: cheeks flushed and lips parted, silk robe loosening to part like an ebony sea with each undulation of your body. He swallows to see your hand dip between warm velvet. Feels the throb in his forehead subside as blood rushes south at the sight of your fingers — tips painted virginal pink — reemerging each time shinier than the last.
And when you finally open your eyes, lust smouldering beneath heavy lids, you lock on an amber gaze that couldn’t help but trace the lines of your body, slow...like the viscous slide of honey.
“Won’t you come in and shut the door? It's getting cold.”
Your hand slides to the swell of your breast, finger circling the puckered peak to emphasize a need for warmth…for the heat of his body deep within you.
The officer takes an obedient step forward, the heels of his boots clicking sharp as a sudden gust of wind slides the balcony door shut behind him with a soft thud, never taking his eyes from your direction.
And there, in the still air of this lascivious tableau, tension:
Serpentine as it coiled in your stomach and teased between your legs, venom locking the joints of delicate fingers that stiffened to rub even faster about a swollen clit.
Pulling taut on the muscles of his body until he grew with each bated breath, chest straining against buttons and forearms bulging as hands pull into restraining fists — fighting a battle he already knew to be lost the moment he saw your back arch off the bed. The moment he heard his name falling needy from your lips.
And still, your valiant knight soldiers on.
“You should take care not to leave your door open like that. Someone could come in —“
You sit up and he falters, thoughts flying to see your robe sliding off soft shoulders to leave you fully exposed. Finally. Swinging your legs around in one smooth motion, you relish in the sight of his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as you prop yourself up on hands and knees, traversing the length of the bed on a slow crawl.
“…It could be…dangerous..." His voice is lower now. Softer. And the sight of amber eyes fighting to stay fixed on your face despite the tempting sway of your breasts arouses you even further.
So you stop at the foot of your bed, thighs spreading wide as you straighten up to sit back on your heels. And when you finally lay your hand on the sizeable bulge in his pants, you conceal a smile in the bite of your lip to hear him swear under his breath, conjuring up all the innocence you can muster as you say,
“You’d always protect me though. Right, Officer Gavin?"
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cool steel on your wrists, every snapping movement of Gavin’s hips against your backside jangled the chain links of the handcuffs against the slim pole of the headboard they were anchored around — metallic clangs resonating throughout the room as they punctuated a background of moans and sighs.
His calloused hand reaches down to rub along the swell of your ass, long fingers gentle on reddened flesh as they trace soothing circles along imprints shaped like the flat of Gavin’s palm. And the remembrance of how they got there sends yet another rush of fluid between your legs, already impossibly slick from his ministrations and your own.
“When will you ever learn your lesson? Didn't I impress upon you the seriousness of your offence the last time? Or do you need me to push you up against my bike again to really drill it into you?”*
Bent over his knee, you had smiled inwardly at what a gifted actor Gavin was, at how quickly he slid into his role despite being genuinely surprised. But by now, he was used to your antics, responding with greater daring than you ever thought possible from a guy who used to blush all the way up to his ears at a mere smile:
Pulling you close to slip a hand down your top when you palmed him through his pants at the back of a crowded movie theatre.
Fingering you against a full-length mirror in a tiny dressing room when you asked for his assistance in zipping up a dress.
Fogging up the windows in the cabin of a Ferris wheel as he came in your mouth during your ascent to the top.
So you were far from surprised when the officer approached you at the foot of your bed, jaw squared as he dug a gloved hand through your hair, his grip tightening to tilt your chin so you could get a better glimpse of the fire in molten amber.
“You’re a bad girl for luring me here, making me think you were in danger. And you know what?”
He bent at the waist, bringing that handsome face within an inch of yours when he whispered,
“Bad girls need to be punished.”
And with one smooth motion, Gavin lifted you like you were weightless, draping your naked body over his legs as his hand came down hard over and over again on the supple flesh of your ass to make you gasp with pleasure.
“Try not to come this time. It can hardly be called a punishment if you’re enjoying it, lewd girl.”
Smack.
His palm had landed right on the cleft, fingers dragging up the space between to make you shudder as he lifted his hand high in the air once more. Balancing on Gavin’s knees, you inched your legs further apart, hoping the next hit would fall on shiny, pink flesh.
He didn’t disappoint. And you rewarded him with a muffled scream of pleasure, face buried in the sheets as you convulsed, soaking one leg of his pants and leaving a small pool by the heel of his boots on the hardwood floor.
“Tsk, tsk. And right after I told you to control yourself.” He brought his hand up to your face, admired the way your cheeks grew a deeper shade of crimson to see it drenched from your release.
“I’m sorry, Officer Gavin."
“Not as sorry as I am for what I'm about to do to you."
And suddenly, you were pulled up, legs still shaking when Gavin pushed you back onto the bed, his eyes hooded as nimble hands worked to cuff you to the headboard.
Figure towering, he straddled you, eyes tracing up and down your body as he leisurely removed his black leather gloves — one digit at a time. And as more and more of that hard body came into view, the clean lines of his uniform giving way to perfectly imperfect flesh, you greedily drank in the sight of him: scars of courage decorating a broad chest, the ridge of muscle tracing from hip to crotch to guide you along its tantalizing V-shaped trail. Then finally, his cock: long and thick and hard like the rest of him, already twitching with impatience to bury itself into your wet heat.
“Open.”
Index and middle fingers pressed upon your lacquered lips, circling to smear red as Gavin envisioned the vivid colour marking his shaft. And when that pearlescent drop formed on the tip of searing flesh, you obeyed, jaw dropping wide as your tongue flattened and your throat relaxed, relishing the moan that first slow thrust into your mouth drew from the depths of his chest.
Knuckles turning white as he gripped your headboard — straddling the line between being gentle and as rough as you desired — it was all Gavin could do to hold back from giving in to the primal voice that demanded he fuck your mouth with abandon. And as he caressed your cheek to see you swallow every last drop, you felt yourself swell with pride, planting wet kisses on the tip of his cock in appreciation when he finally pulled out of your mouth.
“What do you say?” The expectant tone in his husky voice was especially pleasing in your blissed-out state.
“Thank you, Officer Gavin.”
“And how do we show thanks?”
Eyes dropping to his cock — shiny and slick with your saliva — you bit your lip to see it already growing hard again. So you turned yourself onto your front, hands awkwardly crossing at the wrists within their steel constraints as you clambered onto elbows and knees, raising your ass up in offering, still pleasantly sore from the slaps delivered by his hand.
“Good girl.”
Fingers dipped between your legs. You fought to keep silent when they circled your clit, slid into your pussy — first one, then another…then a third, stretching you for things to come.
Suddenly, his hand pulled back and before you could even feel disappointed, it is replaced by Gavin’s cock, smooth head pressing hot against your entrance.
One moment, then two. And when still nothing happened, you lifted your head to look back at Gavin in confusion. That’s when the officer commanded:
“Move your hips and fuck yourself on me.”
So you did. Dug elbows and knees into the bed as you gasped, easing yourself onto his cock from behind, falling into a rhythm that picked up speed until the flesh of your buttocks slapped against that muscled torso, the sound echoing shamelessly in your apartment.
Finally, the last thread of self-control snaps and Gavin’s hands are on the small of your back, lips beside your ear: “I’m sorry, I can’t take it anymore.”
He thrusts in earnest.
And all you can see are stars, bright beneath lids closed in ecstasy.
And all you can hear are the handcuffs knocking against the bed, steel ringing sharp in quick time to Gavin’s thrusts.
And all you can feel…is complete surrender. To the intensity of Gavin’s love and desire for you, boundless like the winds upon which he rode. To the absolute trust you placed in a man who always had his eyes on you.
🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍🏍
Thanks so much for reading! Check out more of my work here! 📚
#mlqc#mr love queen's choice#love and producer#mlqc gavin#mlqc bai qi#mlqc fanfic#mlqc fic#mlqc smut#fanfiction#my writing#elex#all request line#anonymous
580 notes
·
View notes
Text
Razeluxe’s Top Ten Male Characters
So I’ve been thinking about doing a particular list for my favorite characters across anime and games for quite a while and with some advice I decided to break it into my favorite male and favorite female characters. Most people that know me can probably guess at my top three favorites but if you don’t know me... well you ‘bout to learn lol. This was harder than I thought to compile...enjoy my fanboying of the boys lol.
By the by, I’ll do my best to keep spoilers to a minimum.
10) Apollo Justice (Phoenix Wright Series)
I’ve played only two games that this character was in (Apollo Justice and Dual Destinies, slowly working through Spirit of Justice) and this character particularly in Dual Destinies struck me even more than Edgeworth who is another amazing character. Apollo has an amazing spirit and it was only through playing Dual Destinies that I really got to understand Mr. ‘I’m Fine’ and his stupid ‘Here comes Justice’ puns. I feel his original game didn’t allow him to shine (still a great entry in the Ace Attorney series I don’t care what anyone says) and Dual Destinies allows him the development he deserves. He gets hurt during a trial and it allows a deep dive of his character even if his personality shifts for a while. Damn he’s savage. He’s considered the underdog in the Wright Anything Agency but he’s to me the hardest working person there who is also the most factual in court.
9) Gokudera (Katekyo Hitman Reborn)
Or as I like to call him, Scowludera since he’s scowling like 90% of the time. This Ichigo ripoff’s character development is insane. And I think that trend follows most if not all the characters in this list. His relationship with his sister is interesting and he’s pretty explosive in terms of personality and intelligence. His fights are all really interesting too, he has some of my favorite interactions in the series thus far (haven’t read the post anime manga chapters yet sadly, but he’s more than earned this spot on this list). He butts heads with people a lot and he can be ignorant but he grows from his experience and you get to see it bit by bit. This dude is loyal to the bone. RIP if you aren’t Tsuna or Reborn. Also, I’d like to shout out this anime as one of the few to do the shounen genre proper justice. Go watch it. Also his sister Bianchi is <3. Oh wait. Male list. Oops. Can we also talk about his weapon? Not gonna say spoilers but that thing is dope and probably one of the best ever designed weapons. And his kitty Uri <3
8) Joshua Bright (Trails in the Sky)
This will be short as I don’t want to spoil anything, but Joshua is a very easy character for me to connect to personally. His feelings, actions, development probably relates more to me than a lot of characters on this list. He’s got good people around him...I’m very happy for his ship and support it 120%. Also the Trails Series, both Sky and Cold Steel are probably my favorite series of anything period. Go play it. There is more to this character that meets the eye and has broken my heart more than once ;_;
7) Neku Sakuraba (The World Ends With You)
Neku Neku Neku. Another very relatable character for me (see the theme here? lol) He initially shuts out people and over time, through his experience in the Reapers Game, he starts to open up and bring people into his circle. He goes through some crap, like a lot of trauma. When you learn of him it’s no wonder he wound up disliking people and society. He’s extremely creative and that creativity manifests itself in different ways. Kinda like me. It’s worth mentioning I used to roleplay this character back in the day, the very first canon character I used to write for.
6) Shulk (Xenoblade Chronicles)
One of the only blonde’s on this list. Shulk is a character that is driven by revenge but eventually changes. He goes through some pretty traumatic stuff that I absolutely will not spoil. His personality when he encounters a certain characters shifts big time and it’s kind of scary considering how early you see this. Also he gets points for being a notably intelligent character. I mean, the dude has his own lab...and is able to fix and adjust stuff. He’s really a great and well balanced character despite all the crap he goes through. Also I used to make fun of this character and dislike him a little bit, but then I grew up.
The list gets real starting...now. Not that it was fake before. :o
5) Jaden Yuki (Yu-Gi-Oh! GX)
Anyone who has actually watched the entirety of GX might know why he’s here. His character development in the latter seasons so unreal and interesting. I’m not spoiling crap but there is a lot more to the character than meets the eye. Like a lot lot. Over the course of the series he loses his innocent eyes and his personality changes a lot...His character is probably one I can relate to in terms of the reasons for his actions, the way he gets down about himself, the way he acts in the final season...it hits me hard...he’s too dang relatable...just like..
4) Rean Schwarzer (Trails of Cold Steel)
Surprise surprise. Rean is here. -hears crickets- Guess you’re not surprised. I wonder why. I think I relate to this character more than anyone else on this list. Except number one. Number one is in his own league. Rean is a character who generally carries a happy disposition...he has a unique power but you can see he is actively scared of it. It’s something I actively deal with...he’s so scared of himself that he puts distance between family and friends. He never feels he’s good enough. He’s made headway through this, but...
One thing that’s extremely interesting about this character is his selflessness. You may think this is driven to the ground in character stereotypes but for Rean it’s different...his selfless has been described as abnormal by characters in game, and it’s not for positive reasons...Rean deals with some real unhealthy stuff. This is getting long.
As of this post Cold Steel 4 comes out in one month and I’m extremely worried for his character. If you’ve played 3 then you’ll know why. Also if you haven’t played the Trails series, go play it. No buts. Heck I’ll even buy the game(s) for you if I can.
--
Oh look we’re at the top three. I want to say that while numbers two and three here are pretty interchangeable, these characters have been in my top three for over a decade and a half and I don’t see this changing anytime soon. Rean I love you but you have your work cut out if you ever want to breach the top 3. I wanna post a few honorable mentions here. They didn’t get into Smash but they do get Mii Costumes at least! -shot-
Davis Motomiya (Digimon Adventure 02)
This character was everything I was when I was a kid. The way he tries everything to woo Kari is too cute. Also his unwavering faith in Ken. Also Davis Cries Veemon.
9S (Nier Automata)
Not mentioning any spoilers. Just watch this character and see how his vision of the world changes over time.
Okabe Rintaro (Steins; Gate)
Okabe’s shift from his ‘persona’ as things get real and his efforts to fix everything is too relatable for me ;_;
Yosuke Hanamura (Persona 4)
No, I do not ship him with Yu. They’re great buddies for sure, and he’s pretty cool. Really likable character for me personally save for a few moments in the game...he’s also the main in the Arena games. “Let’s do this, Jiraiya!” He’s so cool lol.
Top 3 time. Fiercely dedicated to these guys.
3) Robin (Teen Titans Go! 2003)
Robin is such a raw character that carries his past and tries so hard to move from it yet it embodies him to his core. He has since gained a softer side from forming a team, and has been doing normal teenager stuff...which is good for him. However at times that Batman side impacts him so hard that he can only concentrate on his mission, and starts shutting out everyone and everything to do things himself. It actively gets in the way of his interactions. He deals a lot with moving on from failure and acknowledging his friends more, which he does get better at over time. He is also represented by the color red. My favorite color. He’s badass and yet carries so much crap. I connect to this character a lot even now. Third canon character I ever wrote for.
2 Lloyd Irving (Tales of Symphonia)
I love Lloyd. I love his voice, I love his attacks, I love his stupid double sword logic. He says wielding two swords makes him twice as powerful lol. I love his development. I love his idealism and how it matures over time. I love everything about Lloyd. It was legit love at first sight. I remember being 15-16 and seeing him on that Gamecube boxart and saying “I wanna play that guy” Most people I feel (guys in particular) probably looked up to certain characters growing up as a child/teen. Lloyd was mine.
1. Zidane Tribal (Final Fantasy IX)
While it was love at first sight for Lloyd, that was not the case for number one on this list. I was 13 when I first played FFIX. Zidane upon encountering him, I always thought he was a cool character, but he was nothing special. Even at Zidane’s lowest point I thought he was an okay character at best. I had not finished the game.
Fast forward a few years and I decide to play FFIX again, this time determined to finish it. I had went through some things, grew up a bit before turning this game on. This damn bandit...I remember writing this bit years ago: “His infamous mantra labeled above describes him well, but under his ability to console others with a smile, to cheer people up and meet them at their point of need with his abundant optimism lies a blonde who masks his pain and keeps his issues to himself. Despite his many friends and buddies he harbors a deep loneliness that, like his problems, he keeps to himself. One would have to look carefully to notice his character flaws for Zidane does an impressive job of hiding these problems. Whether it be through his energy, his theatrics, or focusing on other people, Zidane can cover things up quite well.”
Zidane has an absurd amount of depth to his character that I was never able to comprehend as a kid, beneath his flirting, his playful attitude, he hides a lot of feelings, a lot of anger, a lot of sadness. It used to boggle me how he’s able to uphold his sense of virtue despite what goes on in his life and the end of disc 3 answers this for me. It goes without mentioning that this was the second canon character I’ve ever written for, and I still love writing him. I could and write walls of text about how Zidane is so amazing, a chivalrous thief, a lover and a flirt but I think I can let you go lol. Hit me up if you really want to hear me ramble about any these characters, also play FF9.
...So I wrote all of that and forgot to write about Zidane’s ship...have to give it its own paragraph because I love these two together and she does wonders for Zidane as a whole as does he to her. She’s a princess and he’s a thief, they take their time to show them together through different things, different ordeals...particularly the ordeals. Its interesting seeing them both at their worst moments and the many funny moments..Man, that boat scene gets me every time...If I ever write a top ten couples list this couple would no doubt be in the top two if not number one. And I’d probably write way more than this about them because they’re great. Also they’re canon. A healthy canon. Also Dagger’s hot. Oh wait wrong list.
Okay finally done. Not editing this anymore :P
#phew#this took ages#hope you guys enjoy#roze's ramblings#apollo justice#phoenix wright ace attorney#gokudera#katekyo hitman reborn#Joshua Bright#Trails in the Sky#Sora no Kiseki#Neku Sakuraba#the world ends with you#shulk#Xenoblade Chronicles#Jaden Yuki#Yu-Gi-Oh GX#Rean Schwarzer#Trails of Cold Steel#Sen no Kiseki#davis motomiya#9S#yosuke hanamura#okabe rintaro#Robin#Teen Titans#Lloyd Irving#Tales of Symphonia#Zidane Tribal#FFIX
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Icecrown: Reflections
[ Roleplay between @echoesofthelight and myself. Thank you for reading if you do. ]
Reflections | Breakfast
The icy winds of Northrend blew in against the tent for a moment, then released its tormenting breath to leave it alone. Echo did not seem phased however, quite concentrated on assuring the pieces of Renwyck’s armor were fit properly.
The dressing tent was large enough to hold a floor mirror and armor display, the priestess reflected at his side as she fiddled with inner catches of a pauldron he now wore. She wore thicker wool robes with fur lined hood and sleeves, a downy powder blue scarf loosely wound about her shoulders and throat. Soft, she looked, like freshly fallen snow.
“I knew it would be a good fit,” Echo spoke, smiling at him in the mirror, fully armored. “But what do you think?”
It had been over two years since he donned a suit of armor. Even then as he looked at himself in the mirror, Renwyck couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions. His gaze trailing down the finely crafted chestplate, the light of a nearby lantern reflected against the polished steel. It was as natural as his own skin, yet at the same time, it was a bastardization of a man now dead.
It felt terribly wrong and perfectly right.
The sound of Echo's melodic voice drew him back to the present, the fallen watcher looking upon her in the mirror as she stood next to him. He forced a smile and nodded. "It's a good fit," he repeated her own words without fully recognizing. His voice was hushed and almost detached, his eyes lost within the same distance as his words. "Thank you."
Echo next helped him with the tabard of the Argents, a rising sun on yellow and white she draped over his chest piece. Smoothing down its insignia on the smooth metal, she looked back to his reflection, trying to catch his lost eyes.
"The Argent Watchmen here ride beautiful gryphon's that bond well to their rider's every command. Beyond the Tourney Grounds, they circle the whole of Icecrown and are the first to announce if a civilian settlement or military camp is in trouble, and call troops there. Without Watchmen, we all would be very blind to what is out there. It's a very important, respected role. That is why I chose the armor for you."
Echo looked back to Renwyck now with a kind smile, fingers tracing down the raised graphic of his tabard. "The insignia of the Argents is the rising sun. Hope. That is what it stood for me when I found direction, purpose. And when my mentor found me. This changed my life. I hope somewhere, it can help give its hope to you."
The sound of her voice drew Renwyck's gaze, the fallen watcher listening to her words. A soft smile peered across his lips at her message of hope, yet fell as quickly as it appeared. "Maybe it can," he replied in a hushed tone, yet the words seemed hollow.
Focusing on the emblem, his heart sank to his stomach. While it was a symbol of light, the darkness left by the Night Watch still hung over him. Another organization. Another opportunity for betrayal. He reached a gloved hand to Echo's, pressing her palm to the tabard.
For once, the restriction of gloves and armor silenced Echo to what the fallen watcher was feeling in that moment. But there was something symbolistic in his reaching that cast its light on her. Whether it was fear, loathing or disbelief that gripped him, she hoped he reached out to steady the chest that was clenching beneath his armor.
"It's okay," the words were a hushed sincerity, not knowing if they were exactly what he needed to leave the tent, but it was what naturally left the priestess. She held his gaze in a visual embrace, wishing to chase the hollow shadow that seeped into his dark eyes away. "I am here, Renwyck. And you can do this."
His fingers curled around the sides of her hand, clutching it to his chest. While the cold plate had silenced the rapid beat of his heart beneath her palm, Renwyck took comfort in her presence. His other arm wrapped around her frame, drawing her close, their hands pressed between them. There he remained, wordless in their embrace as he struggled to keep his feet in the present for fear of falling further into the past.
Echo slowly blinked up at the struggling Renwyck as he closed her into an outright embrace with his free arm. She chuckled delicately, her other hand raising to rest on his armored shoulder, close to his neck. "Are...you teaching me to dance, or am I teaching you to joust, Ser Wyck?" The priestess peered up on him with a light amusement.
Despite the warmth of her laugh or playfulness in her words, the fallen watcher peered down on her with an unspoken sadness in his brown eyes. Struggling to swallow the lump that had formed in his throat, he looked back to their reflections in the mirror, the priestess's diminutive form hiding his tabard from view.
"You're teaching me to move on," was his reply, his voice a breath over a whisper.
A hand reached to cup to his cheek willfully, feeling his surge of sadness wash back over her until it settled into her own eyes, dulling the light that set there.
"Maybe..." She spoke in her own whisper, trying to rise over the feeling of shot confidence and melancholy that trapped Renwyck with her faith in him alone. "You are taking the steps on your own. I am only the hand held out when the walk is hard. When you fall, to help you stand again. You will always choose how you move on, and if you do."
Her smile was faint and solemn, rolling her thumb against the ridge of his cheek. "This is your life, Mister Darrow. It's yours to live. You can take off this armor if you aren't ready for it, and I can bring you...maybe hot chocolate instead?"
Her eyes were wet now, yet she smiled on him with nothing but freely given tenderness. "Just as long as I can somehow help you find your smile again."
His hand held more tightly to her own; her touch a raft amidst a dark sea that kept him from drowning. He focused on her glistening eyes, his own tears threatening to fall. Turning his head, he moved until her thumb slipped across his lips, Renwyck gently kissing the digit.
"Just stay by my side," he whispered against her skin, his heart heavy with a mix of hope and hopelessness.
Echo swallowed briefly as his lips brushed their kiss against her fingertip, the solemn smile melting to something weaker with the sign of tenderness returned. She exhaled against his armored chest, pressing her cheek against it for the moment.
"As you wish it," she answered with a quiet grace. "I will be at your side, whenever you reach."
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Roleplay history
The rules are simple! Post ten characters you’d like to roleplay as, have role-played as, and might bring back. Then tag ten people to do the same (if you can’t think of ten characters, just write down however many you can and tag the same amount of people). Aside from that, please repost instead of reblogging!
CURRENTLY PLAYING:
Vivian Kong — Fandomless OC
Say’ri — Fire Emblem Awakening
Ying’zi (Sideblog) — Fire Emblem Awakening OC
Kensuke Hibiki — The Caligula Effect / The Caligula Effect: Overdose
WANT TO PLAY:
Eiji Biwasaka — The Caligula Effect: Overdose
Galdo Garzuom — Fairy Fencer F / Fairy Fencer F: Advent Dark Force
Apollonius — Fairy Fencer F / Fairy Fencer F: Advent Dark Force
Jusis Albarea — Legend of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel
Rusty — Stella Glow
Yuuya Kizami — Corpse Party
HAVE PLAYED:
Yoh Takami — Deadman Wonderland
Vivek Kong — Male OC (Genderbent version of Vivian back when I was trying to figure out if I preferred her as male or female)
Fang — Fairy Fencer F / Fairy Fencer F: Advent Dark Force
Momoka — Mascot of fakku.net
Gaius Worzel — Legend of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel
WILL/WOULD PLAY AGAIN:
Gaius Worzel — Legend of Heroes: Trails of Cold Steel
Fang — Fairy Fencer F / Fairy Fencer F: Advent Dark Force
tagged by: @cielcrd ( thank you, sche, for always tagging me in these super fun memes! I HONESTLY APPRECIATE IT MORE THAN YOU COULD EVER KNOW, ahhhh! )
tagging: @truthevade / @moon--wake / @rakkirrrowch / @illdivine / @akaego / @kigakurutta / @spectrumbound / @noircisaint and whoever else feels like doing it, i guess...
#⊰ out of good books ⋮ ☇ ❦ ⊱#⊰ queued for the library ⋮ ☇ ❦ ⊱#[ CASUALLY SWEATS... ]#[ i feel like a reoccurring theme here is that i happen to be more biased towards male characters than i am with female characters ]#[ THAT and the fact most of whom i mentioned on here come from EXTREMELY OBSCURE AF series ]#[ needless to say i think it's confirmed by now i have rather... unique tastes when it comes to muses ]#[ WHICH MAKES ME FEEL LIKE THE ODD ONE OUT ]#[ god why am i like this?? who knows lol ]
8 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
bellalaufeyson69
Mrs. Quill
cheermoji
Cheermoji
livesteeldeals
Untitled
macotdesign
macot
plengogus
HAIIIIIIIII :3