I'm Testing Out Something, Rb This With A Character That Is Your Brand. A Character That Is Yours And

bruh erasermic are so creepy (n hot whatevs) but they would have 👏 me 👏 if they set up a deal like... every minute i spend in lingerie is another dollar i get to spend on video games or clothes... or every time i let them do something to me i get a new book or something... i’m just broke ok

I mean,,, I don't make jokes about Hizashi being a sugar daddy for nothing. I mean sure, Shouta probably makes a pretty penny as a teacher and Hero, but you know Mic has that celebrity money. He drives a foreign muscle car, he has his own radio show on top of also being a teacher/Hero, and even his IRL inspiration at least namesake wise was like a famous celebrity so like... he's got cash to blow, especially on his honey. Shouta's basically the only thing keeping him from doing something insane like buying a private jet to take everyone jet-setting to private islands for vacations or a honeymoon. Sometimes I get this specific scenario in my head of Reader having a walk-in closet and one day Hizashi walks in on her essentially playing dress up. Like, she never really spent much money on clothes before, especially really nice cute clothes, so picture him looking for her and hearing her in her closet, stealthily opening up her closet door and she's kind of looking over the cute outfit she put on. It's one of those pretty pleated skirts that have little suspenders over a nice button up blouse and she paired it with those cute little flat black shoes with the buckles and, to his pleasant surprise, thigh high stockings.

Of course you just freeze like a deer in headlights when you finally notice him staring at you through the cracked open door, and you're so adorably flustered and embarrassed, hardly able to tell him to get out, that you're getting changed, but he isn't leaving. Mic just starts cooing over how insanely cute you look, fawning over you and how you're finally wearing some of the new threads he got you (even if you tried to hide it, sneaky girl!)

Obviously the blonde is ecstatic, and you don't even get a word in edgewise before he's calling out for Aizawa, the radio star basically presenting you like a trophy as much as you try to tuck your arms around yourself in embarrassment.

"Lookit 'er, Shou! Ain't she just the cutest?!"

It's kind of humiliating, but you can't deny that all the praise makes your cheeks burn as they all but worship you. They're especially fans of the thigh highs, and, you know, it gives them a few ideas on other things they can get you to wear

Smoke Rings on Gold Frames (18+)

Heisenberg x reader smut

Here's Part One, and Part Two.

This is a part 3 to the small smut series this has turned into. Again, this makes me so happy that’s it’s getting so much love and attention! As always, finish your dinner before you get to your dessert! <3

Warning: It’s a smut! Dominating metal man, eating out, biting, mentions of wounds, praise, slight choking, mirror play, degration. Faint mention of lycan/Heisenberg. Look how much fun you two are having!

Summary: He saved you, yes, but Alcina still didn’t like the idea of that man getting anywhere near his precious daughter. You on the other hand, couldn’t get enough of him. He couldn’t get enough of you either. In fact, how desperate was he to have you under his grip again?

- - -

You flicked your wrist against the match box, watching the slim piece of wood spark before erupting into a small bright flame.

The match quickly went towards the metal basin of your antique brass incense burner, nestling inside to scorch the loose incense blend you piled inside. The thick, rich smoke of green sage mixed with your favorite dried flowers began to perfume the air, drowning you in a comfortable smoke. You closed the lid on the metal burner, sliding the container over towards the far end of your vanity table and proceeded to look at yourself through your vanity mirror.

You lit your incense burner on evenings you felt like you needed to be alone. Usually before bed, one or all of your sisters would come by for a visit, or the maids would attend to pick up dirty garments for washing or to bring you tea. Naturally, your sisters weren't fond of the smoke, even going as far as avoiding the hallway so they weren't troubled by it. You loved your sisters dearly, but sometimes you lit your incense on purpose, especially after learning that bugs don't like smoke.

As for the maids, if they smelled it, they'd know you weren't to be disturbed.

When you arrived home on that day, Mother was quick to send you towards a bath and have your brand new dress burned. You felt like you were in that bath for an hour or more, succumbed to the warm waters filled with bubbles, flowers and heavily scented bath oils. After a while of scrubbing, relaxing and daydreaming, you left when your fingers were pruny and the flowers in your bath were shriveled and dull of their color.

You remained in your room until dinner, passing the time by reading. Alcina had dinner sent to your room, along with a bottle of a brand new wine you've never heard of before.

She's been spoiling you more than usual these passed few days since, bringing you your favorite meals and desserts, and you knew it was because of the 'incident.'

Don't get her wrong, Alcina was in fact proud that you fought off the lycan to the best of your abilities, it's what she had you trained for. As reluctant as she was to admit, she was thankful that Heisenberg saved you, even though she had no idea of the full truth.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, adjusting your gray silk nightwear to reveal your healing wounds. They were minor little punctures the size of faint bullet marks along your shoulders, and weren't deep at all. But Mother, as caring as she was, gave you healing salves and a tincture to treat them so they wouldn't get infected. You opened one of the tins, slowly applying the salve along your marks with gentle fingers. They looked to be healing well, and hopefully wouldn't leave any scarring.

Losing your concentration on yourself, you began to pick up the faint voice of your Mother from the main hall. The walls were fairly thick, and your bedroom was the farthest from the entrance of the castle. If you could hear your Mother from this distance, than her voice was raised and didn't sound too happy.

Quickly fixing your clothes, you grabbed the closest article of clothing to wrap around your body before leaving your room, heading towards the hall. Your fingers finished tying the straps of your robe when you heard another voice talking back to Alcina, and it was impossible to not recognize who it was.

"Boo!" Daniela's voice spooked you from your pace, the girl giggling as you turned around quickly to acknowledge her.

"Did I scare you? Did it work?" She continued asking, joining your side as she too was curious on what was going on.

"Shh!" Another voice, Cassandra, silenced the girl as she joined along, the trio stopping at the top balcony looking over the main corridor. Bela caught up last, keeping a black shawl over her head like a hood to see what was happening. Four heads looked down to their Mother, who was dressed in her formal attire, arguing with no one other than Heisenberg, his trench coat sparkling with meting snow.

"For the last time," Heisenberg puffed out a cloud of smoke, pulling his cigar from his mouth as he pointed up towards Alcina, "When the damn things learn that they're promised a sacrificial blood bath in a couple of days, they get riled up! They're dogs, for fuck's sake! Your kid is like a walking treat to them!"

"Don't speak of my daughter that way, you pig!" Alcina sneered with venom in her voice and a killer look in her eyes. He only shrugged it off, shifting his weight from one foot to another, all while balancing is hammer over his shoulders.

"Look, I can control them to an extent. They know when to stop and when to go, when to shake hands, where to piss an' all that. But with this event coming soon, they're getting excited for anything that breathes and bleeds. That's all the excuse I can give you."

Alcina wasn't too pleased with his words, but to a certain extent she could believe what he meant. It only frightened her more to keep you inside the castle, at least until the village purge were to pass.

"Fine," She exhaled, bringing her hands to her hips. "Alright, You've made your point. Now, you know where The Duke is, go finish your business with him and go-"

"Yeaaah," Heisenberg cut the woman off, a grin beginning to form on his face. "About that, It's snowin' really bad out there."

"And?" Alcina raised a brow.

"And," He continued, "It's piling up fast. You have to go to the church, yet my place is much, much farther."

Is this man serious???

Alcina wanted to clutch his throat right then and there. He wanted to stay in HER castle??? A dirty, disgusting man like him? Who does he think he is?

"You want to stay in my castle?" She questioned with utter shock.

"Just for tonight, you clearly have the room to fit one more."

"The only place for a man like you in my castle is on the roof hanging from the flagpole at the top of the tower!"

"I said INSIDE, woman! Its fucking freezing! Don't believe me? Want me to crack open a window to prove it?!"

"Stick him in the cellars, Mother!" Daniela chirped, all heads turning towards the red headed girl. "He can sleep with the rats and play with the maids!"

Her laughter quickly grew contagious with the rest of the girls, including you as you looked towards your heavily frowning mother and a smirking Heisenberg.

"That sounds even better," Heisenberg chuckled as he brought his cigar to his lips, meeting your gaze as he blew out a puff of smoke. "A nice, warm place that's dark and filled with livestock. You won't mind if I play with one pretty little lamb, right?"

"That's enough," Alcina ordered, causing your giggles to quiet down. She exhaled as if defeated after fighting her choices. As much as she wanted to reject him and throw him out to the snow, she felt as if she at least owed him a fair amount of debt. She didn't want to, but she'd feel selfish for doing otherwise.

"Just for tonight," Alcina raised a finger towards the man, "You will be gone before the sun rises, or I'll drag you out myself. Do you understand?"

"Tall and clear."

"Hmph,” Turning away from the man, she looked up towards her daughters, who had been leaning against the balcony rails with curious eyes.

“I’ll be leaving for the night girls, I’ll be back before morning.” Alcina announced, meaning she was leaving to the church to be with Mother Miranda. It happened once in a while, and when you asked why, she would mention something along the lines of special planning and ‘special meetings with the favorite child.’ Maybe it was to discuss the village purge.

It was a few hours since Mother left and you retreated to your room. It was pretty late, and after a couple hours of tossing and turning you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. You sat up in bed with an open book in your lap and half a glass of wine in your hand. The words on the page didn’t even interest you, nor did the wine do much to distract you from your thoughts.

Heisenberg was here. In the castle.

If he wasn’t here, you’d just allow your own thoughts to put you to sleep. But the fact he was here incredibly nearby, it made you pretty anxious. A part of you wanted to go down there in the cellars to find him, but you had a lot of maids down there who probably would never keep their mouths shut. Your sisters would question it too, but then again the fact that he was down there with all the maids...

Their was a knock at your door, stealing you away from your thoughts. You tossed your book aside, downing the rest of your wine before setting your glass down on your vanity next to your lightly smoking incense burner.

At first, you thought it was one of the maids coming to you for reasons unknown. But when you opened the door, the scent of scorched tobacco smoke immediately told you otherwise.

“Karl? What’re you doing up here?” You leaned against your door a little bit, seeing the way he immediately eyed you up and down, lingering on certain areas of your body.

“Mmm, looks like you’re finally taking my advice,” He began, a grin slowly forming on his face. “Wearin’ less clothes so you don’t hide that gorgeous body.”

You shook your head, looking away from the man as you stepped aside, gesturing him to walk in.

“How did you know which room was mine?” You closed the door, watching him slowly place his hammer down to the side without it making a loud thud.

“I followed the smell,” He responded, looking around at the decor in your bedroom. “Figured yours would smell the least of rotting blood and corpses the vampire bitch is known for.”

Your room was plain and simple, with the classic elegant spin that was in every other room in the castle. You kept it clean, minus the bed you were in before. The silk sheets were tussled, the fabrics in your favorite color.

“You know if someone found out you were in here, you’d be in a lot of trouble,” You spoke with a teasing tone, walking over to take off the shades from his face, along with his hat.

“I doubt that,” He chuckled, his eyes crinkled with amusement, “I might've threatened a couple of peepers, might've not. After all, I’m just a thirsty ol’ man looking for a tall glass of water.”

You held back a laugh as you placed said items down on your vanity, looking back to see his cigar nestled in his fingers. He watched you reach over and pluck it away, meeting his gaze as you slowly took a drag from said cigar, the embers glowing brighter than the candles that bathed your room in dim light.

“Well,” You blew out the smoke slowly, seeing the swirls evaporate as they got close to Karl’s face. “Did you find it?” You leaned over to put out the cigar inside your incense burner, feeling the floor slightly shift as he took a step closer to you.

“I’m lookin’ right at it,” Came his reply, his tone low and heavy with lust. “C’mere,” His gloved hand snuck around behind your neck, forcing a fierce kiss from you.

Your hands found a hold on his trench coat, yanking it off his shoulders while his hands plastered themselves on every inch of your skin. They found your breasts, squeezing them through the thin silk fabric. Abandoning your chest, they slid down your sides before squeezing the curves of your ass, holding you as close to him as possible. He tugged at your bottom lip with his teeth, chuckling a little before sucking the soft flesh.

“Mm,” As wonderful as this was, you had to break the kiss before his fingers could attempt to catch a firm hold on your sleepwear.

“Ah ah ah!” You shoved his hands off, forcing him to frown deeply.

“Sit down,” You motioned your head towards your bed, seeing Karl glance over it before frowning even more. “Really?”

“I said sit, Dog.” You ordered the man, even going as far as to shove him back. He caught himself this time, landing against your bed. He sat up properly, his frown replaced with a strong smile at your tone. It was cute watching you tell him what to do, but he didn’t voice it.

“I’m not having you rip up my clothes for a third time,” You proceeded to speak, staying where you were as you started to pull up the silk fabric of your gown in your hands, lifting it ever so slowly to pull off over your head.

“Yes Ma’am,” He responded slowly, watching you with intense eyes darkened with lust. It was your favorite look on him. You almost felt like you were standing top center at the church, with Karl as your only worshipper. He eyed every inch of your skin you exposed to him, relishing in the sight the second your garment fell to the ground. You stood in front of him with breasts bare, your nipples hard from the excitement.

You knew what Karl was waiting for, he didn’t try to hide it as he stared at your waist, seeing your fingers sliding along the edge of your panties. You hooked your thumbs around them and pulled them down slowly, hearing the man lightly groan when they fell to your feet, the material glistening from your wetness.

“Fuck, kitten,” He breathed, slowly pulling off his gloves and tossing them to the floor. He stood up from the bed, and while you were tempted to tell him to sit again, seeing the way he started to tug off his shirts made you silence yourself.

“That’s cute,” He started, his bare calloused hand running down your flank, making you slightly shiver, “Your little show. Very, very cute. But now it’s my turn.”

Oh? You tilted your head slightly in question.

He turned you around, making you face the large floor length mirror you kept against your wall near your closet. Bright gold metal lined the edges, giving it a rich elegant look you adored seeing, it was one of the many eye catchers in your room.

But now, you were staring at your own reflection as Karl stayed behind you, his hands traveling over your breasts again.

“I just adore these sessions of ours,” His voice rumbled in his chest against your back, watching as your attention was focused on his fingers teasing your slightly bruised nipples. “I never knew you had such a bite to your bark, (Y/n). To think their was such a freak hidden away in this pretty head of yours, it’s just another thing I’ve grown to like about you.”

He gave your nipples a rough pinch, making you jump and hiss with surprise while your back slightly arched. He shushed you almost instantly, taking away your hand before it even came close to his.

“Hurts, huh? Pain is such a fantastic way to waken up the senses, especially with the erotic type of pain.” His hands left your breasts and down to your hips, the tips of his fingers gliding ever so close to where you wanted them to be.

"You..." You spoke up again, making him halt his movements.

"What was that?"

"You talk too much." Was your response, making the man chuckle.

"Besides bein' a sexy freak, you're also such a fucking brat." One of his hands left your hips to cradle your jaw, securing your head forward to where you stared at yourself in the mirror.

His free fingers found your clit through your warm folds, making you emit a small whine as he teased you with slow, small circles.

"I wanna make you come (Y/n), but I also want you to watch yourself when I make you," Karl murmured in your ear before taking your earlobe in between his teeth, giving a small tug. He applied more pressure against your bud, increasing his pace slightly in a way that made your stomach press against his forearm that you held, your fingernails digging into his skin as not so subtle whines left your lips.

"F-fuck," You hissed, your head slightly moving in his grip as you couldn't help yourself to look down, seeing the warm light of your room reflect off the slick that gathered on Karl's rough fingers.

"So vulgar sweetheart," His grip quickly tightened on your jaw, fingers almost bruising your skin as he moved your head back to where it was before. "I didn't tell you to move. I'm not gonna repeat myself."

It wasn't long before he set a brutally fast pace, forcing more whines and whimpers to flood his ears. Your other hand gripped his other arm, finding leverage against him as your body shuddered, feeling like you were close to losing yourself. You couldn't help but curse this man in your head that he was so capable of making you feel this way, but oh did it feel so good.

"On second thought," Karl announced before his fingers completely abandoned your folds, forcing you to let out almost a fuming, irritated groan. You were seconds away from feeling your core burst, the lack of attention quickly filling with annoyance.

"What the hell??" You wanted to yell at the man as he stepped away, looking at you with nothing but a shit eating grin. He brought his two fingers to his lips, licking at the pads before sucking on them, humming as if he was tasting ambrosia.

"I had a change of thought," He hummed, holding you by your shoulders until your back fell against the bed, looming over your form. "You got to fill out your little fantasies, now its time to fill out mine."

Karl kissed you before you could say anything else. It continued for a moment before he cut it off, proceeding to pepper kisses down your neck and chest, paying quick attention to your breasts before trailing down your stomach. His beard lightly scratched along your skin the entire way, the man kneeling down in front of the bed to get towards his prize.

He spread you apart, leaving you to close your eyes out of quiet nervousness as he glared at your flower, perfectly glistening for him.

He closed the short distance, his tongue gliding along your entire pussy in one long swipe. The new contact was more than enough to make you whine at the sensation, making the man smile against your skin. He repeated the motion a second time, the tip of his tongue spending extra seconds on your clit, making your knees raise slightly as a small mew came from you.

Any hints at being gentle were banished as he started to eat you out like a starved man. His hands pinned your thighs in place, preventing you from closing them around his head, although the idea of it wasn't a bad one. His dexterous tongue left nothing untouched, licking against your clit repeatedly and sliding inside you, fucking you with his tongue alone. His facial hair even added a prickling sensation that only added onto the pleasure, intensifying even more when he brought his lips around your clit, suckling hard.

Your hips bucked against his mouth, your fingers tightly gripping your blankets as the sounds you made reached various broken octaves. This man didn't let up, even bringing two of his fingers inside you, curling upwards in a way that had your back arching almost instantly.

This was something Karl wanted for a long time: To be in complete control of your body and give you the ultimate sensation that any human would want, pure pleasure. He could take you to that state of euphoria, and do it over and over if he wanted to. Right now, he really wanted to take you there.

"C'mon," He muttered against you, making you raise your head to stare at him with half-lidded eyes. "Come for me babygirl."

His lips returned to sucking your clit again with a perfect thrust of his fingers, the built up pleasure snapping in your lower abdomen almost instantly. The hot white delicious relief spread throughout your body like a scorching wildfire, making you cry out while covering your mouth with your fingers to prevent being so loud, but it did little to nothing. Your other hand found itself tugging at Karl's hair, fingers tangling in his silvery locks as your hips rocked against his mouth, the man sucking every drop from your core for all it was worth.

"There you go sweetheart," He cooed when you settled down from the high, feeling the man kiss the inside of your thighs. He bit your skin a little at first, making you give an almost breathless giggle at what you believed was a tease.

His sharp teeth popped the skin of your inner thigh when he bit down again, your warm blood flooding his lips as he instantly sucked the wound, making you gasp and writhe from the pain. His hands secured your hips from thrashing away, your hand tugging at his hair as his tongue repeatedly brushed over your inflicted wound. You grew so focused over the panic, you got caught off guard when his fingers returned towards your folds again. You haven't fully recovered from your first orgasm, the sensation of his fingers making you whine much more louder than you wanted to.

"K-Karl," You gasped out, attempting to push his head away with your hand. "Karl stop! I can't-"

The man refused the push, emitting a low growl from deep in his throat that almost scared you, making you move your hand away from his head. His nails started digging into your skin, leaving angry red trails as his mouth abandoned your bite wound, quickly returning to your pussy without a second thought.

Your next orgasm felt forced, the pleasure more intensified with the stinging pain of overstimulation. It made you buck your hips against his mouth, your hands pulling against your sheets so hard you'd fear they would rip.

Karl removed his mouth as you came back down, giving your wound a final wipe of his tongue before chuckling.

"Now I know why these monsters insist on keepin' you, Everything about you is so sweet." He looked up at you almost glowing, feral eyes and a broad smile on his face, completely ignoring the fact that he bit you just to taste your blood and prove his point.

''And you call me a freak," You breathed out, watching as he stood up from the ground, pulling you closer to him by your legs. He scooped you up in his arms, proceeding to climb up in bed before laying you back down, your head nestled against your pillows.

"We're all freaks," He countered, looming over you as he undid his belt, "But you and I, We're both hand in hand in this twisted freak show."

He pushed inside you slowly, not stopping until he was buried to the hilt. To your overstimulated form, you couldn't help but feel a bit of pain while squeezing around his length. But like he had said before, or similar to his words, pain mixed with just the right amount of pleasure was an incredible sensation to feel.

Words were getting lost to your mind when he thrusted more into you, burying deeper and deeper into your core. His weight against you had you feeling caged underneath, his distinct scent filling your senses to the brim. You could've cared less if the world ended then and there, the pleasure growing quickly drowning out everything else that didn't matter, only you and him.

His pace quickened considerably, the sounds of skin slapping against skin mixed with your indescribable moans echoed through your entire room, sounding like music in Karl's ears. Your were a gorgeous sight to behold, your skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat, your breasts bouncing with every thrust, your eyes half open with pupils full blown out, clouded in pleasure. He felt your hands plastered along his back, leaving harsh scratches along his skin that provided him his own share of mixed pleasure and pain.

His hand found your jaw again, keeping a tight hold as you joined him in a rough, heated kiss. The taste of tobacco, your blood and your essence was a peculiar combination you never believed you'd ever get a chance to taste, but you weren't in the right mindset to complain, instead you moaned to indulge.

The tighter you clenched around him let him know you were close, forcing him to slow the pace he set, only to compensate for more hard, brutal thrusts. The bruising force of his hips sent you over the edge, your back arching off the bed to push against his chest as a muffled cry came from you, Karl keeping the kiss secured as his arm slipped under you, pulling you up from the bed while swallowing your cries.

He sat up in a kneeling position, both arms secured around your waist as he continued bucking his hips hard, chasing his own release as you were in the middle of yours.

He reached up to hold the back of your head, fingers grabbing a fistful of your hair. Your arms draped over his shoulders, locking your hands as you whined against his shoulder, your eyes open as you stared straight towards your gold lined mirror, seeing the way his muscles flexed with your red claw marks brightening the tan skin on his scarred back. His head rested in the crook of your neck, hearing him emit another dangerously low growl as he thrusts faltered, flooding your insides with a potent, hot warmth. Your shuddered against him, riding out both of your highs as you both held onto each other, completely breathless.

Karl's hand cradled the back of your head, both of your tired forms sitting in a comfortable silence. The longer the two of you stayed this way, the more exhaustion wrapped its thick tendrils around their victims. He laid you down, resting your head on your pillow. You almost refused to let him go, looking up at him with half lidded eyes no longer filled with lust, being completely replaced with a different emotion you were scared to voice, but Karl knew right away.

The man was screwed, because the way you looked at him was the same way he looked back at you.

───A TOUCH OF LIGHTNING, AN OUNCE OF TRUTH.

Summary: cornered on a mission with Obi-Wan, a familiar face greets himself as both of your tormentors—revealing to you the one secret Obi-Wan has never uttered.

TW: mentions of torture (reader) and injury.

ONESHOT. 4,654 WORDS.

Ventilations are great for ventilating, but not so great for shimmying through, especially ones as tightly closed as these ones, and especially not when a whole other body is pressed to your side and trying to shimmy along with you. Your body springs back when his elbow slams into your side and his hand flies over your mouth when he can feel the yelp about to bubble out, surprisingly fast given the limited space. He’s hunched over like a pretzel in this new position; his knee pressed into your leg, your palm flat against his ribcage.

Keep reading

Sullied

Day 3. He's a devil, mind the tags. Today's song is The Wolf by Phildel.

It was alien, feeling the soft squishiness of her stomach in his hands. They radiated heat, pressing insistently to keep her back flush against his body, even as he surrounded her, engulfed her entirely, folded his wings around her. She could see nothing but red, feel nothing but fire, hear nothing but the involuntary cries from her lips and the deep croon of his voice praising her.

She had long since melted into a thoughtless, selfish thing, a puppet under his hands, her ears tuned to his next command. She was hot and wet and wanting and she hated herself. She hated herself every time she came back, as he knew she would. She'd return again, repeat the cycle, return to the surface as though she weren't tainted.

Or she told herself she hated, anyway.

Here, she was no hope, no leader. Simply his.

'Oh, if they could see you now,' he growled in her ear, the vicious sharpness of his claws keeping her anchored in the present as they danced over her belly, toyed with ripping it open. 'Their supposed saviour at my mercy.' He trailed a hand up to her throat, held it tightly, fine as glass in his grip. The other wound into her hair and pulled; her screams turned to sobs of pleasure-pain, choked off with a mere flex of his fingers. 'I love hearing you cry for me,' he purred. 'You precious, beautiful little liar.'

'Don't- get used to it-' she choked out, just barely audible. 'I fucking hate you.'

He laughed, threw back his horned head and cackled joyously, released her throat and listened as she sucked in air in desperate gasps. 'I know. Don't you worry, little mouse. I won't tell anyone what you look like when you leave me. I didn't last time, either. Although...' he pulled her up, turned her head to smirk down at her. 'Perhaps this time I'll make you stay.' He crushed their lips together, invaded her mouth with a tongue that knew it by heart.

'You- can't-' she ground out between thrusts as they broke apart. 'They- they'd all-'

'Die, yes,' he whispered. 'And who would explain the reason? What would they say?'

'You- can't- keep me here-'

'The way you're taking my cock like a greedy little whore begs to differ, darling apple of my eye.'

'The last time-'

He bit down on her shoulder, lapped at her blood with lashing tongue. His hum of pleasure quaked her whole body and she came again; she'd lost count now, tears and sweat falling to the deep red covers.

'No,' he snarled as she went limp underneath him, pulling her up like she was nothing but a doll. 'You're mine. I'm done playing games, little pup. You'll return to the surface when you admit it, and not before.'

'I'll never be yours,' she whimpered, exhausted.

'Pity,' with a last hard thrust he came inside her, his weight pinning her to the bed. The devil pulled out of her, flipped her onto her back to see the blazing passion of hate in her eyes. He stroked her sweat-soaked hair off her forehead, admired his handiwork: a patchwork of bruises and bites, though she'd given as good as she got, and the soft swell of her belly filled with him, over and over and over again- spilled out between her thighs, onto the sheets. She was almost celestial like this, the radiance of her.

Sullied, again.

They both knew there would be a next time. They both knew she would not return to her friends.

If she had the energy, she might have tried... but he was whispering softly, lying as easy as breathing; she played the same game- knew they meant nothing to one another- and yet he soothed her into sleep, all the same.

Tags:

@bluerosetarot @dansnotavampire @further-than-forever

@forget-me-maybe @poetryvampire @sasha199 @wandawillow

@boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana @amorgansgal

@aryancunin @miradelletarot @marlowethebard

@crimson-and-lavender @reeseykins @medra-gonbites

@roguishcat @weaverofnetheril @galedekarioswifey @hyperfixationstation128 @lastlight-inn

@astarryvamp @feedthepheasants @dabigstinky @dreamingofthewild @ladyofcrowsandcoffee

@femmefuck

Sweeter Than Heaven - Hosea x Reader

Hello Hosea fans!! This ended up WAY longer than I expected, but I've had the main man on my mind and wanted to give him the attention he deserves. Enjoy! It's on ao3 if you prefer.

Summary: Your crush on Hosea renders you incapable of interacting with him. He takes offence and tries to get to the bottom of what your issue is.

Word count: 8,283

Content warnings: Smut, 18+

Hosea Matthews took pride in being a decent man. He’d made his mistakes throughout his life but he was conscientious enough to see, admit, and learn from them. It was something he’d practised with age, his current stature far away from the cocky outlaw he’d been in his youth. 

He didn’t chastise himself for it, he’d seen it in all the men of the gang once upon a time. They too, some more than others, learnt and grew even if it was often in a misguided direction which he tried to correct. If he could do something good in this world, he could at least pass on the things he knew so that maybe those he thought highly of didn’t have to learn the hard way as he did. 

The fruits of his labour blossomed in recent years; a whole orchard of his legacy as clear as day solely by the pedestal the gang put him on. He was the one who most approached for advice, he was the one they asked when they wanted to learn something new, and he was the one who could provide a new angle on situations and see things often overlooked by others. Yes, Hosea did not struggle to gain the trust of those around him. 

However, it seemed his skills as an approachable wise old man (a description that took some time warming to) were being tested in the form of a new recruit to the gang. 

Most newbies go down one of two paths; jump in head first and make the loudest impression they can, or quietly watch from the sidelines and allow their actions to speak for them. Except this one did neither, not really. 

Honestly, you had him stumped. 

You were easy-going and someone everyone appeared to like, joining in on the banter when the drinks flowed but not being afraid to make suggestions where necessary. But you didn’t force your personality on anyone, and the overall opinion of the members of camp was a positive one. Approachable. Friendly. Smart. Even self-assured. 

It wasn’t that Hosea disagreed with these statements; it was just that he hadn’t had any chance to experience them himself. From afar, sure. He could see how one could describe you as all those things. But up close, when he tried to strike up a conversation – you had little or nothing to say other than the bare minimum for politeness. 

It’d finally happened, he supposed. A decent character who simply didn’t like him all that much. It unnerved him, seeing you laugh along with others only to quieten down when he came over. Was it the authority he held? Was it his age? He couldn’t be sure, but if he couldn’t keep up his reputation, he would at least find out the reason behind it. 

The wind was strong on that particular day. Strong enough that it whipped your face and blew your hair into disarray if you dared sit out in it for more than five minutes. So, when Tilly beckoned you into her tent with Karen and Mary-Beth, you didn’t hesitate in heading in and getting comfy beside them. 

“You’re sure Grimshaw won’t mind?” you asked, righting your shirt that’d gone askew thanks to the blustery air. 

“Grimshaw,” Karen elongated the word with distaste, “minds everything. I’d like to see her sew clothes when they’re being blown across the damn camp, though.” 

“No,” Tilly interjected before you could respond, “she won’t mind. Ain’t no way we could work in this, and Grimshaw knows that.” 

“Whatever you say,” Karen mumbled, pulling one of the folded blankets over herself. 

“You think it’ll last long?” you asked, flicking your gaze upwards. 

“Why, girl, you bored of us already?” 

“No,” you snickered. “But we could do with a way to pass the time.” 

The four of you took to thinking, and you thought maybe you could all sing a few songs – 

“I know,” Mary-Beth smiled, highlighting the hint of blush on the apples of her cheeks. “We could share our recent... Fancies.” 

“Oh, trust you to suggest romance,” Karen scoffed. 

“Come on, it’s the perfect opportunity! Winds so strong our words will stay locked up in this tent, and certainly won’t travel to any unwanted ears.” 

“Fine,” Karen acquiesced reluctantly. “Suppose I’ll start. Sean was asking me about this thing the other day, something like –” 

“No,” Tilly stopped her flow before it could begin, “I heard enough of you and Sean to last me a lifetime.” 

At Mary-Beth’s knowing chuckle, Karen rolled her eyes. “Well, then suit yourself. Actually, I’d like to hear if our newest friend has eyes for anyone.” 

Three expectant gazes landed on you, and you straightened up at the sudden attention. You shrugged. “I don’t know, there isn’t really anyone who’s caught my eye.” 

“Oh please,” Mary-Beth tutted. “Surely there’s someone you at least find attractive.” 

Attractive? Sure. The camp had its fair share of attractive people, but you knew that wasn’t what they were asking, not really. But you were lying, someone had in fact caught your eye. Only it was someone they’d never expect. 

It was more than just a pondering thought, too. It was the kind of attraction that made you forget your words, breathing cease, and limbs sit rigid and unnatural in their sockets.  

If you were being honest, you’d surprised yourself too. Any of the young, handsome outlaws you’d interacted with would’ve been an understandable choice, that way you could reason why you were drawn to one more than the other. Perhaps you’d even have liked more than one of them, weighing up their various traits to describe the winner. 

But none of them interested you at all.  

Sure, you could appreciate their looks, their sense of humour, or their work ethic, but there wasn’t that feeling that turned your tummy over and rendered your thoughts entirely theirs. In turn, you’d found it easy to talk to them, not even considering the possibility of dating and so having nothing to be concerned about.  

Unfortunately, you hadn’t been spared from the plight of having a crush. It almost made it worse that it was unexpected, you not having the slightest clue how to deal with it and feeling like nothing short of a blundering child every time you got to interact with him.  

God damn Hosea Matthews. 

You didn’t know what to make of it at first. When your mind went quiet the first time he spoke to you in that voice of his, you spent the rest of the day worrying you were coming down with something. It took a few days, until one evening when a bottle of whisky in hand ignited some more-than inappropriate thoughts about the man. Ever since, you couldn’t even look at him and expected this ridiculous feeling to go away in no time at all. 

Alas, weeks passed and there you were; crushing on him more with every day. What were you mean to do? How could you go about something like that? Would it be as easy as initiating a drunken kiss or harmless flirting? This man was as smart as they come and likely much less reckless than the younger men, surely you couldn’t make such an immature advance on him.  

You found ignoring him to be the easiest way to deal with it in the end. He scared you, not in an intimidating way but purely the fact that he knew so much whereas you knew so little. No, you supposed you weren’t scared of him; just scared of the fool you’d appear to be if you interacted with him. That wasn’t a problem provided you kept your distance. 

It was getting concerning, though you stuck hard with the idea that it would go away at some point. Right? 

You shrugged at the girls, concluding that the worse thing to do would be to admit it to them. “Sorry,” you laughed apologetically, “I hate to be such a bore.” 

The girls soon forgot, the discussion turning to one of the others but you couldn’t keep your mind away from him. 

―――

Thankfully, the wind died down some days later and allowed you to sit out with a book in the fresh afternoon air once your chores were finished. 

Hosea saw his opportunity. 

He walked over and stood to the side of you, though a pace behind so you didn’t see him in your peripheral right away. “Afternoon, miss. I need you for a job, if you wouldn’t mind accompanying me.” 

Silence. 

Hosea cleared his throat, watching your unchanged expression and posture for a moment. “Miss?” he asked, a little louder than before. 

Your head rose from your book and towards him, brows pulling together in confusion. “Uh, me?” 

“Yes,” he smiled easily, “you.” 

Blinking owlishly at him, your nerves began to race your chest and you did your best job of not focusing on them. Why did he want you to go? This was all still new to you, you were far less capable than the other, more experienced girls. Perhaps it was a bit of practice? Unless you’d been slacking and he was subtly making you pull your weight? Either way, both options would mean Hosea would be exposed to you in close proximity alone and see your skills first-hand, providing you with ample opportunity to fuck up – 

“Miss,” he half-sighed, reminding you he was expecting a response and you realised you’d remained still since he’d clarified. Even when not talking, apparently you could still make a fool of yourself.  

“Sorry,” you said instinctively, attempting to relax your shoulders to diffuse the tension your body had accumulated. “Right now?” 

“Well, yes,” he pulled out his pocket watch and flicked it open. “In about half an hour.” 

“Can I ask what the job is?” 

Hosea hid the concern from his smile, wondering why on earth you felt as though that wasn’t appropriate knowledge for you to know. “It’s just a bit of investigating, really. I don’t much fancy sitting alone in the saloon while I do so.” 

Finally, he’d said the right thing, and that appeared to relax you somewhat. You could do that, right? A couple of hours, the option of a drink to calm your nerves, and just listen to whoever the mark was. A starter job for you to dip your feet in the choppy waters of a life of crime. “Sure,” you shrugged casually, and Hosea accepted that was the best he’d get out of you for now. He told you to meet him by the horses when it was time. 

You weren’t proud of how much time you spent picking an outfit, acting like a teenager as though this man would even look twice at you. Wearing one of your favourite shirts and a simple skirt, you initially pinned some of your hair back but promptly returned it to its usual state at the worry that you were trying too hard. So, there you were half an hour later, mounting up on your horse and riding out with Hosea. 

On the ride over to the saloon, he’d decided on letting you reach out to him. The more he pushed conversation the more he expected you’d stray from it, and in his experience, many people aren’t comfortable with silence and that can be enough of a motivation in itself for striking up a conversation. Not you, though.  

It was your assumption that he was deep in thought, planning for the upcoming job and so you left him to his thoughts; not that you’d know what to say anyway. 

There was still time, though, and he didn’t concern himself with it too much. Once the two of you arrived, you got seated at the bar and he bought a bottle of beer for each of you. 

As he glanced around the room, it occurred to you that you didn’t have the slightest clue what this job was for and if anything was expected of you. You cleared your throat before quietly asking, “is there anything I’m supposed to do?” 

“Just follow my lead,” he said, and you relaxed and tensed simultaneously, happy that he trusted you enough to need no preparation but worried that you’d prove that to not be the case. Something in his tone was enough for you to almost believe him and thus gain confidence in yourself, it was an odd feeling and you briefly puzzled over how he managed to put you at ease with only four words. 

It wasn’t long before Hosea made you aware of the man when he entered, leaning up against the bar and that was when he started making conversation with you. Small talk, about the weather, how your horse was, what book you were reading, etc. It made sense, the pair of you could hardly sit there in silence and the knowledge that Hosea was listening more to the man behind him that to you made it much easier to talk to him. 

Then Hosea turned, politely apologising that he couldn’t help but overhear the man and your heartrate quickened for a moment at the fear of your cover being blown. But the man was fine with it, engaging in conversation about some fancy repeaters he was selling and Hosea feigned his interest as a gun enthusiast. How he had so much knowledge you’d never know, and it was knowledge you’d never learn since you couldn’t focus on the conversation, instead observing and listening to Hosea as he spoke. 

It was a marvel to see him in his element, and you watched on with adoration at his cool persona while his even cooler words gradually eased his victim and gained their trust. When the man turned away for you both to follow, offering to show him the merchandise, Hosea caught your eye and the slightest of smiles quirked over his mouth – enough of a response that didn’t suggest any suspicious motives had the man caught it. Hosea followed him and you followed a few paces behind, trying to squash your smile from growing further; this was rather fun.  

You waited outside while the sky turned darker and Hosea went into the small homestead close to town. It was easier this way, you wouldn’t have to linger or stand there awkwardly while they spoke. A rather useless part in the operation if you did say so yourself, but if Hosea wanted anything more from you, he’d have made that known. 

He was laughing and joking with the man when they came outside, clapping a hand on his shoulder and you smiled to yourself at how talented he was; it was like he was a different person entirely. You walked beside him once he’d said his goodbyes. 

“Get what you need?” you asked. 

Hosea nodded, promptly returning to his usual self and noticing how guarded you still were. “Indeed,” he said quietly, “should be a nice clean robbery for the boys.” 

You didn’t need to ask more, not wanting to pry into business that didn’t concern you and sighed in relief internally at managing to not ruin anything now that it was over. “Back to camp now, then?” 

“Why the rush? I say we go back to that saloon. Their whisky is rather good,” he responded promptly. 

Goddamnit. “I suppose.” 

Hosea’s smile hid his true feelings, bordering on frustration with your lackadaisical manner. He’d been nice enough, hadn’t he? What more did you want? He wasn’t a fan of resorting to drink to loosen someone's lips, it felt lazy and immoral, but you didn’t leave him with any other choice. The true goal of this job was still yet to be accomplished. 

And so there you were, back at the bar and he’d ordered some shots of whiskey with the excuse of celebrating a successful recon. You went along with it, more small talk ensuing and you relaxed once again as the whisky began to take its desired effect.  

Of course, Hosea noticed it. The way your brow softened and shoulders dropped to the way they were with seemingly everyone else but him soothed his growing concern with his plan. It was working. 

As he was telling you a story, the atmosphere shifted. You were sure it was only felt by you, or perhaps it was the drink, but you began to think there was more to this than he was letting on. He’d specifically chosen you to come out on the job when truthfully you didn’t need to be here, he’d suggested getting a drink once it was finished, and he’d spent the last forty-five minutes asking you questions to get to know you, all the while listening with intent... did he want you? You observed him as he spoke, the way he seemed to be searching your face for something, the brief touches on your arm, and the faint sparkle in his eye. 

He stopped mid-sentence, the change on your face distracting him since you’d gone from happy to concerned in a matter of seconds. “Is something the matter, miss?” 

Of course. He’d never make a move on you, how could he? If it went wrong that was your trust gone, his image tarnished as the trustworthy leader. You had to be the one to do it, didn’t you? 

It was easy, really. You didn’t think when you leaned in, pressing your lips to his and they were soft, and he smelled good - 

Hosea pulled away, his hand hovering between your torsos to keep the distance with a confused look on his face. Oh god. Before you could speak, apologising for being such an idiot and more than ready to blame it on alcohol, he relaxed once again.  

“Miss,” he said softly. “That isn’t how we do things here.” 

You nodded profusely, of course it wasn’t, he was a grown man, charming, charismatic, smart, and you just threw yourself at his feet because he showed you a bit of kindness and interest. How ridiculous you must look. “I’m so sorry, I mustn't have been thinking -” 

“Now,” he laughed, at ease and doing his best to keep the panic he saw growing in your eyes from manifesting, “don’t you apologise! I can see why you’d think that was the way of the gang, but truly it is not. You are here on merit alone, and I apologise if I have given any indication that more was expected of you.” 

The gang? Merit? Expected? What? Perhaps the drink was a good enough excuse, nothing made sense anymore and you frowned at him. “I -” you started, unsure of how to proceed but the alcohol thinned out your filter for the questions that were on your mind. “I don’t know what the gang has to do with it. I - there are... others, right?” 

Now it was Hosea’s turn to be confused. Other what? Were the other girls performing the task of pleasing the men and told you that was the norm? This was getting more serious, that was something he certainly wouldn’t tolerate. “Do you have an example of who?” 

“Well, there’s John and Abigail, of course, then Karen with Sean, though I know they’re not -” 

The cogs clicked into place, though Hosea still couldn’t make sense of what he thought he was hearing. “Hold on,” he said, placing his hand over yours that rested on the bar and you looked at it for a moment, how nice your hands looked together along with how gentle his touch was. “You... actually want this?” 

Hosea dipped his chin, hazel eyes piercing yours and you worked on a swallow. If nothing else had made sense tonight, his touch and gaze more than made up for it. Now that felt right. You didn’t have it in you to lie and you surrendered, offering him a nod in the hope that he would figure out what was going on. 

A brief flash of shock washed over him but a small smile tugged on the corners of his lips. He was honoured, and suddenly your behaviour made sense. Now he knew, not that he’d ever have figured it out without the push, it was blindingly obvious. The way you always seemed to be looking away from him, growing more nervous with every step he made closer to you, and clamming up whenever he made conversation. It was a crush, simple as that. 

A crush on him, no less. It’d been a while since he’d had to identify one of those aimed his way, but he wasn’t about to let it slip away in a hurry. To top it off, it came from you. He’d thought you beautiful when you joined up, he wasn’t about to deny that, and while he hadn’t had much experience with you, he’d soon grown fond of watching you from a distance. 

“I’m flattered,” he began with, searching his mind for how to court a woman and the expectant and worried look in your eye almost made him melt. How sweet. He inched closer, fondly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and suppressing his laugh at how seemed to get even more nervous. As amusing as it was, he didn’t want you to feel that way. “Taken aback, sure. A pretty young thing like you takin’ an interest in an old conman? It’s almost comical.” 

You expected it much less than he did, but god both of his hands were on you and he actually looked happy, so you started to laugh. He was right, it was comical but no less true. “Perhaps it is.” 

Every inch of Hosea’s face relaxed fondly, your laugh ringing angelically in his ear and there was only one thing he wanted to do now. He leaned in once again but promptly stopped himself, watching your expression grow concerned once more. “I think I’d prefer to do this in a more private setting.” 

Reminding yourself not to be too uncool, you nodded calmly in agreement. 

“There’s a hotel nearby, we could get to know each other there?” he caught himself quickly, realising how this must all sound. “Not - not like that. Just, whatever you're comfortable with.” 

You’d done it. You’d made Hosea Matthews nervous. It seemed like an impossible feat, but he looked positively boyish with that apprehension in his eye and it was downright cute. You might not have his quick way with words, but you clearly had something. You slipped your hand into his, and pushed off the bar, smirking at him and following you out those doors was one of the easiest things he’d ever done. 

For all that boost of confidence was, it didn’t want to stick around. Your nerves made themselves known once again as Hosea opened the small room to the homely hotel, but you grasped to them desperately as you walked through the door he held open for you. It clicked shut, and you turned; you were really alone in a hotel room with him. 

He was hesitant, restricting himself as though he wasn’t entirely trusting in your desire to be with him. It made you want him even more though, walking the dark alleys of your mind where you wondered what he was like when he didn’t hinder himself. Unfiltered, unbounded Hosea was something you’d been longing to see. You’d waited long enough, anyway. 

Hosea was about to say something, make conversation and get to know you when you took a step forward and met his lips once more as though it’d been the only thought in your head since you practically skipped out of the saloon.  

His lips were delightfully soft, whisky residue sitting nicely on the plush flesh and it was addicting. You ran your hands around his lean waist until your frame pressed into his. 

This truly hadn’t been Hosea’s intention with getting the room, he was a gentleman after all, but you were stealing away all his logical thoughts. Besides, he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth and gladly returned your affections. 

Attempting to keep it slow, for now, you repeatedly kissed each other and once again you guessed he would only do what you were comfortable with. Well, screw that. In your fantasies, he’d taken control and taken what he wanted, while still keeping that desire to feed your pleasure, and you supposed it was down to you to let him know you were okay with it. You didn’t know if this would ever even happen again, but it wasn’t in your jurisdiction to question it. You gently grazed his bottom lip, pulling it between your two rows of teeth and Hosea’s breath stilled in his chest. 

He broke the contact, brow narrowing with the tilt of his head as though he was looking at you in a completely new light. A warmth grew in his eyes that you’d never seen before, one not borne from adoration – but lust. He moved his head forward, his lips stopping an inch from your ear until his shallow breaths landed on your skin. It didn’t make you shiver, but his following words that were laced with a dark undertone certainly did. 

“I didn’t have you down as such a troublemaker.” 

You gulped, an involuntary gasp leaving you as a hand snaked to your flank, gripping you with a firmness you wouldn’t have expected from him, and you looked at him all doe-eyed when he moved his head back to catch your gaze. 

“What’s the matter, dearest?” your heart thumped at the sound of the endearment as it purred through his lips, “going all quiet on me, now?” 

After a beat in your almost-paralysed state of mind and body, you realised he’d asked you a question and you nodded dumbly. How quickly he’d turned that round, immediately showing you who was in charge and promptly reminding you of the fact. More than anything you wished you could match his silken words, but even you knew better than to try and then subsequently ruin the mood. This was what you’d thought about for weeks, fantasising about his voice in your ear and his hands on your body while your fingers slipped between your wanting folds. He smirked, a brash confidence radiating from him that contrasted the gentle kiss he proceeded to place on your cheekbone. 

“That just won’t do,” he murmured against your skin, giving up his fight against his desires. “But the night is young. Plenty of time for me to wrench some noises out of you, yet.” 

Your next breath was a quiet whimper, your eyes falling shut as goosebumps grew all over your body. Now it all made sense, this man didn’t just know the right words to say, but he knew exactly how and when to say them. No wonder he’d conned so many people of their precious valuables and cash in his time, you were about ready to turn out your pockets and give him everything you owned.  

With your eyes closed, you couldn’t see him pressing his lips together to compose himself at the sight of you unravelling before him. He liked what he saw and what he heard, so Hosea decided he’d be greedy for once. He wanted more. “Hm, yes. That’s what I’m looking for.” 

Fluttering your eyes open, you noticed the widening of his pupils as his desire grew from within. “Hosea,” you breathed. 

“Hm?” he asked casually, though inside he was thinking of how his name sounded coming out of your mouth like that, more magnificent than any grand symphony.  

You just waited for more, and he smiled proudly.  

“Tell me what the matter is,” he brushed a hand over your hair and you couldn’t pick out whether he was teasing or comforting you. 

“God,” you started, arousal taking over your thoughts, “I want you. I really want you.” 

Hosea hadn’t expected you to be quite so bold, but he couldn’t ignore your signs any longer. You’d shown him and told him, and the only thing you seemed to be drunk on was lust. It’d be almost rude of him to turn away your advances. “Very well, then.” 

The hand placed loving on your head pulled your face to his, and he kissed you far unlike the way he’d kissed you previously. His lips led yours, firm and unyielding as they moved. You melted into it, glad for his other hand on your form to hold you upright. Sufficiently happy with your pliancy, the hand on your head trailed down your back, urging you even closer until he rested a palm on your behind, not hesitating in squeezing the soft flesh. You gasped, and he took the opportunity of your open mouth to slide his tongue inside. 

You promptly mobilised, allowing him in and circling your tongue around his, the taste of his spit something you’d been wanting to indulge in for a while. A faint hint of peppermint passed over once you’d soaked up any leftover taste of whisky he had to offer, and you brought your hands to his chest to grip at the fabric of his waistcoat. A wanting sound left him and his tongue retreated, pressing his forehead to yours while you both caught your breaths. 

Breathing wasn’t something you cared for right now, though you reminded yourself not to rush this, but he was right there and you innocently shifted your stance, brushing your thigh against his crotch and oh - 

He shook his head at you minimally, pulling away to get a look at the inquisitive desire that’d taken over your features. “One thing you should know,” he stated. “I take my time with my work.” 

“So, I’m work now?” 

Hosea’s face softened with a fond smile and he chuckled. “A piece of work,” he mused, “yes. That’s exactly what I think you are.” 

You huffed, unaware of your natural growing confidence and comfort with the man in such a short space of time. His hands found your hips, and you thought he was pushing you away until your thighs met the side of the bed and you obediently sat, putting you at a rather nice height and you took full advantage to look at his cock straining through his pants. 

A chuckle from above preluded Hosea nudging your legs apart with his foot against yours and you shifted back as he leaned down, his knee planted between your thighs while his other remained on the floor. One hand made its way up your body, expertly avoiding your breast and stopping to grip your chin. He studied you, endless possibilities playing out in his head and it excited him profusely. It was tough to decide on where to start with your waiting body beneath him, but his first goal was to make you come. He needed to know what you sounded like when you released, what you looked like, and most importantly – what you tasted like. 

The kiss he placed on your nose was far sweeter than anything else he planned to do to you that night. Then he glanced down, disappointed that you were still clothed, an inconvenient barrier, and you noticed the look grow on his face. 

“Everything alright?” you asked timidly, hoping you hadn’t come across too strong or he’d begun to regret pursuing this.  

“No,” he said shortly and you pouted. “You’re wearing too many clothes for my liking.” 

“Oh,” you smirked, fingers reaching to the buttons on your shirt but he stopped the path by holding your wrists. 

“Ah, ah. This is a present I didn’t expect to be opening tonight, and if it’s quite alright with you I’d like to unwrap it myself.” 

You blushed, quickly moving your hands away and the pleased, hungry look in his eye made something burn deep in your core as he drank in the sight of you. 

Those hands of his were something you’d thought about many times, wondering exactly what other talents his slender fingers were capable of. They made light work of your buttons, your shirt opening to slip to the sides and reveal your breasts to him.  

Hosea sighed painfully, his cock twitching in delight at seeing you exposed. “Lord above,” he hummed, conceding that God must exist – how else was something as heavenly as you created? He ran his palm to the underside of one of your breasts, gently kneading it and wanting nothing more than to experience them in all their glory. He moved down an inch and then hesitated, flicking his gaze up to your anticipation-filled expression. “This alright?” 

The soft tone counteracted the dark one that’d otherwise taken over his voice, and it was a comfort to know that your enjoyment and happiness were still his top priority. Your nod in response was urgent, rolling your shoulders back into the mattress in a futile attempt to get him closer to your sensitive spot and he couldn’t resist cracking a smile. 

“Alright girl,” he chuckled, “I’ve got you.” 

With that, his mouth came down onto your nipple, sucking it gently into his mouth and you groaned at the warm wetness on your skin, small jolts of pleasure shooting through you each time he sucked in. His mouth came off and his tongue took over while his other hand fondled your left-out nipple, squeezing and rolling it between his fingers. He ran his tongue around your areola a few times before short flicks of his tongue greeted your bud, now hard and straining to maximise the sensation.  

After kissing the flesh of your breast, he moved over to the other side and nuzzled the inner side of it with his nose. A peck on your nipple followed before he sucked that one in, and you expected his fingers to move over to the other side but instead, they trailed downwards, the back of his knuckles softly grazing over your centre. 

You whined low in your throat, watching him indulge with closed eyes while continuing to tease you down below. When you rolled your hips into his touch he met your gaze, the sight of you wanting and desperate almost enough to make him finish in his pants right there and then. He held off, unsure exactly how far this would go but knowing he had no plans of ending it any time soon.  

“You can,” you took a breath, “unwrap those too if you’d like.” 

A breath of a laugh came from his nose as he planted kisses over your breasts before stopping between them. “It’d be my pleasure.” 

“Trust me, pleasures all mine,” you responded dreamily and that smile of his made another appearance and he tilted his head at you. 

At your quizzical brow, he placed a kiss on your sternum before resting his chin there. “You’re funny,” he complimented adoringly. 

You tutted, rolling your hips into his now-still hand and he nodded his recollection of his previous ministrations.  

“My apologies,” he hummed, chaste kisses placed in a neat line down your stomach and you admired his multi-tasking ability while he swiftly undid your skirt.  

He moved off you to stand and you willingly lifted your hips for him to pull the rest of your clothing off. You were half-tempted to question why he was still fully clothed, but having someone so infatuated with you was a dream you didn’t want to interrupt. Plus, there’d be time for that yet if it was something he was comfortable with. 

Speaking of, you realised the view you'd presented to him and he raised his brows while looking lovingly between your thighs, and you instinctively closed them out of embarrassment but he brought a hand to your knee to part them once again, his gaze not leaving your flushed cunt. “So pretty. Why would you want to hide something so pretty?” 

You pressed your lips together, basking in the shower of affection that felt so natural coming from him. Like he meant every word, and he wasn’t just trying to make you feel good about yourself so he could have his way.  

“Come on, now,” he stroked his hand up your thigh while kneeling on the floor and the image of his face between your legs was instantly burned into your memory as one of the most delightful sights you’d ever seen. “Where’s that wily minx from earlier? This right here -” he gazed back at your most private part, “is one of the most wonderful things on this planet.” 

As you sighed gratefully, he brought his index finger into his mouth though you didn’t think it was necessary with how drenched you were. His spit grew cool fast, and you jolted slightly when it met the top of your slit, tracing a line down while he watched the pleasure blossom on your face, peaking when he brushed over your clit and you whined. He smiled to himself. “What a perfect sight.” 

Your head that’d dropped back tilted up in time to catch his fond expression before he dropped his attention to what you presented to him. He watched the tip of his finger as it slowly manoeuvred around your entrance to collect your slick, and while he was tempted to lick it off, he held back and decided he’d rather taste you directly from the source. 

Hosea watched intently as his finger entered you, appreciating the flutter of your walls as he pushed in up to the knuckle and gently slid back out. At no resistance from you, quite the opposite, in fact, he repeated the motion again, then a third time until his finger was completely sheathed inside you. The thought of him filling you further fleeted over your mind and you moaned softly at the teasing sensation. 

“More, Hosea, please,” you begged politely and he allowed himself a last look at the tight expression on your face before moving forward, simultaneously pushing a second finger inside and licking a long stripe up your slit. 

A gasp of pleasure accompanied your back arching off the bed, and the temptation to touch himself grew tough to ignore, but he managed. He ran his tongue between your soaked folds while he slowly moved his fingers in and out of your entrance. Twisting them around slightly to ensure you were stretched, should the need for that arise, he revelled in the taste of your pussy that ground up into his mouth. You tasted delightful and he began lapping at your clit, making your toes curl while pleas of his name spilled out of your mouth.  

Your dreams and dirty thoughts had done him no favours, this was far better than you imagined and a brief amusement passed over you at the thought of how silver that tongue really was. It proceeded to lick up all the juice you had to offer until Hosea grew greedy and wanted more. He wanted you to come in his mouth, on his fingers and he sucked on your clit, the sensation buzzing through your body as he did a pulsing motion with his lips. Continuing to fuck you with his fingers, you didn’t know which way to move your hips since every direction provided more pleasure, and it built up and you weakly tried to warn him, panting “I’m -” until your breathing paused while your body released over him, thighs tensing around his head and Hosea mused that he could quite happily suffocate here between your thighs.  

It felt like it lasted a small eternity, the orgasm flowing out of you in waves as Hosea helped coax it, and you finally relaxed back onto the bed, blinking up at the ceiling at the stars that peppered your vision. 

“Goddamn delicious,” you heard Hosea say, not having it in you to respond or even laugh, but you felt his fingers leave you and he crawled up your body. 

“Happy?” 

“I’m past happy, Hosea. I’m -” you didn’t know what to say, how to describe what you were feeling and you willed him up with your hands gripping his collar so you could kiss him lazily. The taste of yourself on his tongue was enough to ramp you up again but he moved to roll off you. “Where are you going?” 

“We don’t need to rush,” he soothed, thumb stroking your stomach. 

“But -” you protested, you wanted more and you wanted to feel him. “I want to.” 

“Really?” he asked in disbelief. “You don’t need to, dear. I’m happy to wait.” 

“Do you want to?” you asked and he laughed, clearly just not trying to pressure you. Plus, his hard cock pressing into your leg was a dead giveaway. “Okay, because I really want to. I need to. I might die if we don’t.” 

He barked a laugh, taking your hand in his and kissing at your knuckles, the sheen of your slick passing over to your skin. “No, you won’t die.” 

“I will,” you insisted. 

“Well,” he shifted to stand between your draped legs hanging off the bed, his hands starting to undo his belt to pull it free and to the floor. The action of him smirking down at you while he did so was enough to drive you insane. “We don’t want that now, do we.” 

With that, he pushed his pants down and put a hand on either side of your hips and pulled you towards him, his cock springing up and just inches away from where you needed it. His calloused palms ran up to your knees, gently spreading them while you stared at his cock in disbelief that you were actually seeing it and once again your imagination had failed you.  

“Like what you see?” he teased, puffing his chest out slightly in pride. 

“Mhm,” you hummed, wishing you could describe him the way he’d described you but you didn’t think they’d invented those words yet. After realising you were in somewhat of an infatuated trance, you sat up and met his gaze, eyes blown wide with lust but still a promise of trust held in them. “This is – indescribable.” 

“I’ll take that,” he laughed softly, petting your head and you went to kiss his chest but were met with the fabric of his waistcoat.  

“Can I take this off?” you asked, fingertips fiddling with a button in anticipation. 

“If you’d like.” 

“I would like,” you said decidedly, half of his buttons already undone and you glanced up in questioning when you reached his shirt, making quick work of that too and marvelling at the exposed lean chest presented to you, dusted with light hairs and faint scars. 

Hosea shrugged off the garments and your eyes darted over his form, more beautiful than you’d pictured but your attention was soon grabbed by the leaking head of his cock. You debated putting your mouth around it, but with how insistently it stood to attention, you shifted back, patting the bed for him to join you. 

He didn’t question it, accommodating your request and you gently manoeuvred his shoulders to persuade him to lie back, not missing the excited glint in his eyes as you straddled him. With his cock sitting comfortably on his abdomen, you rolled your hips over it and coated him with your abundance of wetness. He groaned in bliss, head dropping back to the pillow and hands harshly gripping your thighs to anchor himself. He suspected it would do no good since he was grounding himself to a real-life angel that would only send him further up into the clouds. He didn’t care, either. 

The pressure of his shaft against your sensitive clit caused your walls to throb with need, your whole body begging to be filled by what Hosea had to offer. Your palms met the back of his hands, brushing up his forearms and to his shoulders until you could plant your hands on either side of his head. “Shit,” he whispered, lost in a haze of desire and the sight of your face above him, eyes filled with want and lips still plump from earlier while your hair fell down towards him was enough to bring a grown man to his knees, and he thanked the stars he was already laying down. He cupped your jaw and you leaned into it before moving your face to his and kissing his lips.  

Hosea kissed you back, soft and tender as he reached a hand between your torsos to find his cock and you met him halfway for his tip to press against your entrance. The kiss broke and the two of you gazed at each other, both wanting to watch the reaction of him finally being inside you. But you both missed it, pure bliss taking over as he pushed in and you had to close your eyes at the delightful stretch. He did too, your walls constricting his length knocking the air clean from his lungs. 

The pair of you stilled, once your crotch nestled into his hips, getting used to the feel of each other and committing every sensation to memory. You reopened your eyes to find his still shut as he dragged his mind away from thinking of how good it felt to avoid finishing prematurely. After planting a kiss on each cheek, he hummed in response and met your gaze. 

“You feel perfect,” he remarked, hand brushing up your flank, “you are perfect.” 

You shook your head, kissing his lips again. “You are.” 

He shunted a laugh, deciding now might be the worse time to argue over such a thing. You silently agreed and moved your hips to drag yourself back off his length. His hips twitched while he released a pleasured sigh, and you promptly lowered again to commence your motion of fucking down onto him.  

With each roll of your hips, your orgasm climbed back up and you enjoyed altering the pace and feeling him in every possible way. The man himself panted beneath you, fingers now weak where they rested on your hips instead of gripping at the flesh, informing you that whatever you doing was just what he wanted. 

“That’s it, that’s it sweetheart,” he praised, and as was the case in normal society, Hosea’s praise was expertly timed to ensure maximum effect and meaning. Seeking his approval was something everyone did, even if it was subconscious, and that was no less the case when in the bedroom. 

His forehead shone with a layer of sweat; brows pulled together in concentration as he watched his cock disappear into you every time your hips came down. 

The plush spot inside your walls grew, you realised as the head of Hosea’s cock brushing over it with each thrust become more of a heightened sensation. Your limbs grew weak and you sat back, Hosea taking note of your response and deciding it was his turn to make the effort. He fucked up into you, reaching deep within your walls and hitting that spot harder each time. You whined, desperately finding something to cling to and with your head dropped back one of his hands slipped into yours. You squeezed as your abdomen tensed, doing a good job of hovering above him to provide room enough for him to thrust upwards. Your cunt clenched around him, bringing a hand to fondle your breast and Hosea watched the show intently, eyes watering with the effort it took not to come at the sight. But you were close, your high-pitched moans told him that much and briefly hoped the room next door wasn’t occupied. 

Your legs tensed and you dropped your head forward, hands splayed on Hosea’s chest as your fingernails dug into his skin, one last thrust from him was all it took for the band in you to snap and you let out a silent moan in relief, no more energy available for anything other than coming right on his cock. 

Hosea bit his tongue, waiting until you’d taken a couple of breaths and pulled out. Even in your haze, you know what this meant and you gripped your hand around his cock, soon feeling warm spurts rope across your chest and stomach while a choked-out whimper came from the man underneath you. 

Both of you spend a moment suspended before returning to your bodies, and in your exhaustion, you wavered forward slightly but stopped yourself with a hand on the bed. Hosea caught your gaze, a fucked-out expression on his face and pulled you in to lay on his chest. Neither of you cared much about the mix of spend between you, and you lay your head on his chest to hear the thumping of his heart start to return to rest. 

He drew light circles on the small of your back, a gentle breath skimming your shoulder with each out-breath he took, each one quieter than the last. 

A small piece of clarity returned to you, and the stark realisation of what any of this could mean. What would it be like to date someone in the gang - Hosea, no less? Would you even be dating him, or was this a one-time thing? “Hosea,” you began, sitting up and finding him looking back at you like he was waiting for you to say something. He shook his head, holding your forearms in each hand and tugging you back down to him once again. You obliged, the reminder that you’re safe in his arms being more than enough for you to relax. 

“Shh,” Hosea soothed you, brushing his hand down your back. “We can leave all that for the morning. Unless you want to go back to camp now?” 

You shook your head fervently. “No, I -” 

“Good,” he interrupted with a smug smile. “For now, I just want you to stay here and lay with me.” 

So you did. 

present for his beloved (mafia!dazai osamu)

warning(s): yandere themes, implied physical abuse, intimidation, broken darling

note(s): a little something i wrote for the lovely @vani-ya​, for her birthday 💕 I hope you like it!

You whimpered uncomfortably in his lap, heart threatening to beat out of your chest.

You hated being this close to him. His mere presence around you was suffocating, permeated with the scent of blood and gunpowder, and the scent of his cologne closing in on you from all sides. It made you sick to your stomach.

He was talking to someone across the desk, barking orders at them, as if you weren’t even there. One of his arms was holding your waist in place, while the other harshly gripped one of your frail wrists. That’s going to leave a bruise.

Out of the corner of your eye, you looked at the terrified man standing across from the wide mahogany desk. His skin had gone pale, and he looked ready to bolt at the first opportunity. You didn’t blame him. People don’t realize just how terrifying Dazai’s presence is until they actually face him.

He finished talking, and the man scurried out of the room as fast as his legs would carry him, leaving you alone with him once more. You trembled in his arms.

“Now, now, my belladonna. What’s the need to be so afraid?” he murmured into your ear, pulling you even closer, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

You didn’t allow yourself to relax, more out of past experience than anything else. And sure enough –

“If you behave yourself, that is.”

An expression of pure, unadulterated fear crossed your face, and he laughed. It was a deep, full laugh, and you could feel it reverberating throughout his chest from where he had you pressed flush against it.

Trying to get a better look at your eyes, he moved a lock of your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear. One of the many things you weren’t allowed to do was tie your hair. He liked it loose, framing your face, said it made you look even more angelic. That, and he liked to be able to grip it whenever he wanted.

“Let’s see now…what would my darling like as her present?”

“Present?” you asked meekly.

He laughed, “My, my, do you really not remember what day it is, belladonna?”

When you shook your head, his face lit up with a sadistic grin. Most days, you weren’t even allowed to leave your room, let alone the house you shared with him. You would never call it a home. The only time you did leave was when he took you out, and it was mostly to this dark monstrosity of an office, just so he wouldn’t get bored. There are windows but he always keeps them covered.

Neither his house nor the office have any clocks, so time seems to slip from you often. You’re lucky if you can tell night from day most of the time, and you know that’s exactly what he wants. He likes you that way: disoriented, compliant, and utterly helpless.

“How air-headed you are, my love.” He said in a patronizingly mocking voice, “It’s your birthday.”

“M-my birthday?”

“Mhm, and I want to let the love of my life know, burn it into you, just how much I love you. So, tell me, belladonna. What do you want for your present?”

There was a cigarette dangling from his left hand, and you hoped to God he wouldn’t just put it out on your skin like he always did. Thankfully, he actually used the ashtray resting on his desk this time.

The smile on his face was sickly sweet, completely out of sync with the harsh grip he had on your waist, fingers digging into your hipbones. Oh, well, what’s one more bruise to add to your collection? What do I want?

“I…I d-don’t know.”

He pouted in mock sympathy, “Really, now? Is there nothing you would like me to do for you? How about I loosen the collar?”

Your hand instinctively moved up to touch the metal adorning your neck. It was horribly constricting, and it used to hurt in the beginning too. It still did, but you had kind of gotten used to it.

“Or would you want to lose the cuff on your ankle? That would make your futile attempts to escape easier, wouldn’t it?”

The cuff on your ankle wasn’t attached to anything at the moment, but he never let you take it off either. It was convenient for him, in the way that he could fasten it up to whatever he wanted, and that it also served as a constant reminder to you of your own powerlessness.

Yet, when you looked down at the cold metal harshly gripping your ankle, your gaze was blank. What do I want?

You think you used to want to run, but…now you can’t see the point. Running will not help, because each time you have tried, he has caught in the blink of an eye, and each time he has caught you, he has made it hurt more than the last time. There is nowhere you can run where he won’t find you.

“No…” You whispered, curling up in his arms and trying to make yourself as small as possible.

“What’s that?” he asked, even though you know he heard you perfectly, “Did my belladonna say she doesn’t want to run?”

You shook your head slowly, and Dazai smirked. Forcefully gripping your chin with one hand, he turned your head to face him, “So, what do you want?”

You fumbled frantically through your head for the right answer, something that would satisfy him. You know there’s something specific he wants you to say. You also know what happens if you don’t say it.

“Y-you. I want…to be with you.”

He smiles and pushes your head down to rest on his shoulder as a lone tear leaks from your eye. Then he places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Good girl.”

Me when i was younger: i like horror movies cause gore!!

Me now; uh,,,,,stabby,,,,boy,,,,pretty

Following Instructions

[Explicit] AO3

Silco x f!reader, BDSM, Smut, Established Relationship, Impact Play, Spanking, Sex Toys, Non-Penetrative Sex Toys, Dom Silco, Dom/sub, Praise Kink, degradation kink, Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Aftercare

Word count: 3.7k

Inspired by an impact play session/demo I got to enjoy this weekend, I wrote a Silco/reader fic. Thanks to my bestie for the lesson and my husband for indulging me and learning alongside me.

Silco does not take kink lightly. If you cannot follow his rules, he will not indulge you in your fantasies. You try impact play for the first time with your pain and pleasure entrusted to his practiced hands.

"Knees on the bench, elbows on the bed."

Standing in Silco's bedroom, your body buzzes with anticipation and anxiety. You've been wanting to try this for a while, but wanting and actually doing are two very different things.

A bench with a red velvet cushion on top of it sits at the foot of Silco's bed. When you kneel on top of it and bend over as instructed, you realize just how perfect the position and height is for both of you for this activity. Makes sense, given that's the exact reason he has such a piece of furniture.

The cushion is soft against your knees, but not nearly as soft as the thick comforter that lay across Silco's bed. Rich textures tickle your forearms and your palms as you get into position.

"Now repeat to me what we're doing."

Silco's voice is even, a calmness that comes with the quiet confidence he exudes. But you can hear the hint of possessiveness underneath it and it sends heat to pool in your core.

You wet your lips and nod. Silco was very clear that, if you cannot speak explicitly about what you're doing, what you're comfortable with, and what the rules are, he would not be indulging you in this. The professionalism you've come to admire as his business associate does not end at the bedroom door. If anything, he's even more strict.

"You will be…hitting— spanking me…"

Out of your periphery, you see him nod, beckoning you on.

"With a series of instruments."

The aforementioned instruments lay on the bed in front of you, just out of your reach. Silco has four in order of severity. Before you had crossed the threshold into his bedroom, he had made it clear that you are fully in charge of how many of these he will use. He had also told you what type of pain to expect from each.

"Good."

Your walls clench. He prompts you again.

"Where?"

"My… ass."

You hear footsteps behind you as he paces, watching.

"And?"

"The back of my thighs."

More footsteps. He walks into your line of sight, appearing to the side of the bed. A slender arm reaches down and picks up a leather paddle, its handle about five inches long. The business end of it is a rectangle about seven by three inches wide.

He straightens up, mismatched eyes locking with yours.

"What are you to do after each hit?"

You recall his instructions and recite them out.

"Tell you a number from 1-10 on my pain scale."

He nods, his left hand bracing the flexible paddle as he rests the flat end on the palm of his right.

"For today, the highest I will do for you is seven."

You nod.

"I will not do anything past seven until I've deemed you've had enough personal sessions with me."

He leans forward bringing you almost nose-to-nose.

"Do we have an understanding?"

Your throat bobs.

"Yes."

His eyebrows cocks.

"Yes, sir," you're quick to correct yourself.

He straightens back up, hiding the instrument of your pain and—if this goes as you think it will—pleasure behind his back before stepping out of your view to hover behind you.

"Last question. What do each of the colors mean?"

Your lips part as your eyebrows furrow, confused. But then, you suddenly remember.

"Green means to keep going. Yellow means pause or I need a break."

"And red?"

"Stop everything entirely."

You hear the unmistakable sound of leather creaking as Silco's grip tightens around the slapper. Your heart is in your throat, the molten lava in your core growing even hotter by the second as you wait. As you kneel with nothing but a pair of lace panties on, you wonder if Silco can see how wet the fabric is getting as it clings to your pussy.

"Good girl."

Your walls clench again and you almost sigh from his voice alone.

"Eyes forward."

Your eyes stare ahead at the wooden headboard. And then—

Thwack!

Silco hits your right cheek. The strength behind it is weak but your hips jump forward nonetheless, startled by the sensation.

That wasn't too bad.

Silco clears his throat behind you.

"One."

Thwack!

Silco hits the exact same spot again, this time with a bit more force behind it. You can feel the sting of his swing, a wonderful warmth blooming on your skin.

"Two."

Footsteps. And then—

Thwack!

Silco strikes you on the left cheek to even out the sensation. A small sigh escapes your lips and your eyes flutter closed. For a moment, you forget yourself, lost to the buzzing feeling in your head and the stinging sensation on your ass.

Silco says your name sternly.

"Sorry, sir!" You squeak out. "Three."

Thwack!

"Ah!"

Your voice comes out as a startled cry, Silco's timing between hits speeding up. You want it again, so you try to think of a number as quickly as your lust-adled brain can conjure.

"Three."

Thwack!

Silco hits the back of your right thigh and a low moan hums along your throat. You press your face into the mattress, eyes closed and lips curled into a drunken smile. Heat pools between your legs and you let you mouth fall open to let out a contented sigh. As you do, your number tumbles past your lips.

"Five."

Thwack!

Same intensity, other thigh. 

Your fingers dig into the comforter, balling up the fabric into your palms as you let out another sigh. 

Silco lets you savor the moment, not prompting for your number just yet. You wiggle your hips happily as you feel your pulse in your skin, little fires all along the places he's hit you.

Your head feels light, your thoughts a blank slate. All you are is this moment with Silco.

In his bedroom.

Face against the sheets.

Ass in the air.

Your pain and pleasure entrusted to his practiced hands.

"Five," you sigh.

Silco hums behind you. You can feel his warmth as he steps a bit closer. Without warning, he starts to tap the paddle against your right cheek, light and fast. Each slap is only a one on the pain scale, but he's doing each in such quick succesion that it makes your head buzz. There's a wonderful fluttering sound as the leather continues to slap your ass, a sweet stinging against your skin.

He adjust his grip and gives your left cheek the same treatment. Light taps, as if he's trying to keep the warmth underneath your skin from cooling down.

Just as you think he'll maybe do the same treatment to your thighs, he adjusts his stance, pulls his arm back, and sends the paddle thundering onto your right cheek.

Thwack!

"Ahhh!"

Your walls clench as your pussy weeps to soak your panties. Speechless, you arch your back as you ride out the stinging sensation. You can feel pleasure coursing through your veins, radiating outward from your ass until it's rushing through your limbs and settling behind your eyes.

Silco calls your name, a little warmer than before.

"Seven," you whisper.

Thwack!

Equal strength, left cheek.

A long, low, wanton moan purrs along your throat. You find your breath growing shallower as the line in your stomach tightens. You're desperate for friction against your core, to feel Silco's skin on yours. 

While you and Silco have had sex before, it was never after something like this. Before this session, Silco had made it clear that sex was most certainly on the table for tonight and that all you need is ask.

Correctly.

"Sir?" 

Your voice is shaky with anticipation.

"Yes."

"May I…"

He hums and your walls clench at the low rumble.

"May I have your fingers, please?"

Silco steps forward to stand next to you, one warm hand pressed against your left cheek where he struck you. He rubs soft circles into your skin and you hum, content.

"Just my fingers?"

Your throat bobs.

"I want your fingers and then your cock."

He hums in understanding as he soothes the ache in your other cheek with his hand.

"You're done with the demonstration?" he asks.

There's no disappointment or teasing in his tone. Simply asking for full clarity.

You nod your head. He squeezes your ass in response, his instruction from earlier ringing in your head.

I will not accept any non-verbal answers. You must use your voice to answer me.

"Sorry! Yes, sir."

There's a soft thud as Silco tosses the paddle onto the bed to join its unused brethren.

The hand at your ass smooths down, led by the pad of his middle finger. It glides along your panties until his hand is cupping your mound. Your walls clench and you briefly wonder if he could feel it.

He leans down, bringing his chest to push against your shoulder blade, his nose pressed into your hair. His breath is warm as he whispers into your ear and your eyes flutter closed at the sensation of being caged by his body.

"Are you done taking orders?"

"No, sir," you reply immediately.

The pads of his middle and ring fingers find your entrance and massage it over your panties. 

"Mmmm," you hum, smiling.

"You want to be my plaything?"

You wet your lips, arousal soaking through the fabric of your panties to reach Silco's fingers.

"Yes, sir."

You're rewarded for your ability to follow instructions with Silco's hands dipping under the waistband of your underwear to pull them down. You shimmy your hips as he does. You feel his hands maneuver your legs so he can fully slide them off you.

With your panties discarded to the floor, you're now fully naked, still on your knees with your ass in the air. 

Silco's hand is at your core again and you feel as if you're going to melt and fuse with the comforter with how good you're feeling. He coats his fingertips in your arousal and the skin to skin contact has you so high you might as well be on shimmer.

"You want these fingers?"

"Yes, sir."

A beat.

"Beg."

You let out a whimper, unable to form words with how desperate you are for relief. Finally, you find your voice.

"Please, sir! Please fill me up with your fingers. I need them inside me."

His fingertips massage your entrance and you mewl at the sensation.

There's a melody behind his voice when he speaks, a teasing, playful tone.

"What pretty begging."

He dips just the tips of two fingers into your pussy, leaving you wanting.

"But I think you can do better."

You whimper again, searching for the right words.

"Please, sir. I only want you. I don't want anyone else inside me. My pussy is all yours."

Both fingers breach your entrance, pushing into you until they can't push in any deeper. Your walls stretch around him and your voice comes out as a low moan. Silco curls his fingers and it almost threatens to send you over the edge.

For a moment, you can't decide how you want to come. Wait for his cock? Come on his fingers? If you come on his fingers now, will he let you come on his cock, too? Will he let you have multiple orgasms or limit you to one?

When all else fails, ask the question.

"Sir?"

"Yes."

"I'm — ah! — getting close."

He hums as if taking notes.

"May I come on your fingers and your cock?"

Another hum, this one with more teasing behind it.

"Such a greedy girl."

You moan at his words.

"Haven't come once and you're already wanting more."

As you continue to have this strained conversation, Silco's fingers curl within you. Meanwhile, your clit has gone completely untouched and seemingly isn't even necessary. You've never felt that before. You've always needed clit stimulation. But with the impact play as foreplay, you're so close already without him even getting close to it.

Your mind scrambles.

"I— I'll come as many times as you want me to."

He chuckles.

For the first time since you entered his domain, you panic. You realize you left yourself open to a very terrible possibility, one you know Silco would notice.

Your assessment is correct as Silco's voice teases behind you.

"Even if that number is zero?"

Your mouth opens and closes idly like a gaping fish. Maybe begging for at least one could work? But something deep within you wants to show just how dutiful you can be, just how well you can follow his instruction. 

And, hell, maybe if you deny yourself orgasm tonight, it'll make the next one even wilder when he does let you do it.

"Yes…sir."

Then, Silco does the most startling thing since you started the entire session. Fingers still curling within you, he leans forward, uses his free hand to swipe your hair away from your neck, and plants a tender kiss to the space between your shoulder blades. It's quick and soft and warm. When he straightens up, you realize you would do absolutely anything for this man.

"Don't worry. It's your first time."

His fingers pick up pace and your walls clench around them in response.

"I won't be that cruel."

The wet sounds of him pleasuring you and his words confirming he won't deny you your orgasm sends you toppling over the edge. Your voice cries out in a long moan as you come undone around him, pleasure flooding your system and making your body feel weightless. He guides you through it, pumping and curling his fingers into you as your walls flutter and pulse.

As the feeling subsides, Silco pulls his fingers out of you. You bask in the afterglow, right side of your face pressed into the mattress as your eyes drift closed.

Then, you feel something at your lips. You open your eyes to see Silco's hand—wet with your arousal—pushing two fingers into your mouth.

"Suck," he instructs.

Obediently, you suck on your own juices. As you do, you can hear and feel Silco's free hand working the button on the front of his pants.

"Very good girl," he hums.

Your walls flutter weakly.

He pulls his fingers from you with a pop and you swallow down your release, humming contently.

In your blissed out state, Silco rubs the head of his cock along your entrance, coating himself in your arousal.

"What a pretty little thing you are."

His cock slides along your folds and for the first time, you feel him rub your clit. A soft moan hums in the back of your throat.

"What pretty little sounds you make."

You whimper in response and you feel his cock stutter a little in reply.

"Does my pretty little thing want my cock?"

You hum, content to be used by him.

"Yes, sir."

He leans forward. The intricate textures of his waistcoat dig into your back as he brings his lips to your ear. He whispers and you can hear the slight shake behind his words as he allows himself to get excited.

"The only word I want to hear from your mouth from here on out is my name. No more 'yes, sir' or 'please,sir.' Do you understand?"

"Ye—"

You catch yourself.

A pause.

You nod.

"Good girl."

Silco's cock pushes into you inch by glorious inch, stretching your walls so that you feel the fullest you've felt since the last time you two fucked. The position allows him to push himself all the way to the hilt, reaching deep, deep within you.

"Silco!" you cry out, hips jumping as you feel his pelvis flush with your ass.

His hands are at your waist, long fingers curled around you as if to say, "Mine."

Silco pulls his hips back to draw his cock along your walks before pistoning forward again.

"Ah! Silco!"

Again and again, Silco's fingernails dig into your waist as he pulls out to the head of his cock before slamming forcefully back in. Over and over in a steady rhythm.

Slow out.

Fast in.

"My sweet girl," he hums, voice ragged with desire. "Being ravaged by my cock."

You whimper at the juxtaposition of his words, the tone of his voice, the heat of his hands on you. You want to hear more. More dirty words. More shaky breaths. But with only one word at your disposal, how can you make your desire known?

"Ah!" You hang onto the bed, desperate for release. "Silco?"

"Yes? What do you want?"

You let out a whine, needy and long.

"Do you want my fingers?"

That actually didn't even occur to you. While, yes, you would love his fingers at your clit, that's not actually what you think you'll need to send you over the edge. Not today. 

You shake your head.

He hums in surprise. He does nothing to hide the curiosity in his tone.

"You don't want my fingers?"

You nod.

"Then what do you want?"

You desperately look over your shoulder. Quickly you lock eyes with him. Some of his hair sticks to his forehead and the messy look causes you to clench your walls around him. As soon as you know you have his attention, you dart your eyes to his lips, lingering there for a moment before going back up to his eyes.

Understanding slowly paints across his face.

"You want me to keep talking?"

Your eyes alight and you nod enthusiastically.

He chuckles.

"Oh, my dear," he growls as he presses his chest into your back. "I'm happy to oblige."

His pace quickens and you can feel his cock harden further within you.

"Does my little toy want me to tell them how good they've been?"

Your eyes flutter closed and you press your forehead against the bedding, mouth hanging open as you sigh and moan.

"You've been so good for me," he whispers. "So obedient. So clever."

Silco lets out a groan of his own and you answer back with the only word you're allowed.

"Silco!"

"I must admit…" he continues to rut into you, less pistoning and more grinding into you, his cock seated deep within you as he does short staccato thrusts. "I am—ngh!— impressed by how quickly you picked it all up."

"Ah!"

"It's as if this is what you've always wanted," he growls, low and predatory.

"To be trained."

His speed picks up.

"To be used."

You feel your body relaxing into the sensation, your building climax promising to be the strongest you've ever had in your life.

"To be mine."

"Silco!" You cry out as you tumble head first into your orgasm, your walls fluttering and milking Silco's cock as he too reaches his peak. He lets out a long, low groan as he drives himself deep into you and halts, his cock pulsing and drawing out your pleasure.

You feel euphoric and weightless as the sensation goes on and on, flooding your senses. As your body ascends to the heavens, you have one fleeting thought.

I don't think I can go back to vanilla sex ever again.

Silco's death grip on your hips finally loosen. You could swear you almost feel the way his hands shake as he pulls out of you. He's about to step away when you stop him.

"Silco."

He wipes his forehead with the back of his clean hand.

"Speak freely."

"Don't go. Not yet." Blindly, you try to reach for one of his hands, which he offers. "We can get clean in a second; I just want your warmth."

He nods. Then, similar to before, he presses his chest against your back, caging you in. The weight of him is comforting and warm, drawing out your afterglow and the heady feeling of subspace.

"Ah, yes," he hums behind you. "It's hard to know what aftercare you want until your first time."

He speaks into your skin, fingers featherlight as they play on your arms.

"You're so good to verbalize so readily."

You hum.

"And you were so good to me," you whisper.

"Yes?"

For the first time, possibly ever, you hear uncertainty in Silco's voice. As calm, collected, and authoritative as Silco is in his daily life as a businessman, he is still, after all, just a man. A man with insecurities. A man capable of caring very deeply for his people. Who wants the best for them.

And does not want to hurt them.

"This was exactly what I was hoping for," you say with a soft, cockdrunk smile on your face. A look you're not sure Silco sees, given how your eyes have fluttered closed yet again. 

"I love the way you made me feel."

Silco shifts above you and you open your eyes to meet his.

"You enjoyed the impact play?"

"I enjoyed you."

His face softens and you continue.

"I don't think I've ever trusted someone as much as I trust you."

The scar at his lips tugs upwards slightly as Silco allows himself to smile.

"I'm glad I could give you that."

He continues to hold you, long after your respective releases have dried on your skin. When finally you signal he can get off you, he does so with a gentle kiss to your hair.

You remain in the same position as Silco retrieves two hand towels from the adjourning bathroom, which he's dampened with warm water from the tap. He carefully wipes you clean with one and then cleans himself with the other, discarding both into a small hamper in the corner.

Then, another unexpected turn. It would seem this encounter with Silco is full of them.

The two of you hadn't discussed what would happen afterward. So it comes as a pleasant surprise when you see Silco start to disrobe until he's as naked as you are. 

His hands at your hips, he guides you into the bed. With a lackadaisical push of his hands, he shoves the four toys onto the floor as he pulls the sheets back for you both. You climb in after him, quick to nuzzle your face to his chest.

In the warmth of his bed and the comfort of his arms, you feel calm. His hand plays with your hair, a light massage on your scalp. After pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, he whispers into the small space between you.

"Thank you for this."

Your eyes start to drift closed.

"I would like to do it again, if you're interested."

You hum content, drifting to sleep, two words a soft whisper on your tongue.

"Yes, sir."

A/N: Dom Silco but make it actually have healthy kink practices lol

Taglist: @averagecrastinator @mazikomo @writingmysanity @insult-2-injury @ariaud @jennrosefx @ins0mniac-whack @steponmesilco  @sherwood-forests @leave-me-alone-silco @givemebeansnow @aeryntheofficial @dreamyonahill @lostbunn @eurydicethesage @thepineapplesimp @whatisafandom @violet-19999 @juicboxd @sageandberries-png @delta-is-here  @mutedwordz @fly-like-egyptian-musk @jennithejester @mrsdelirium @witheringblooddemon @beardedladyqueen

Join my taglist!

folie á deux

↠  summary: Ever since you were little, you had the dream to travel the world, but that was quickly stripped away when you were forced to marry a secluded writer by the name of Aizawa Shouta that lived in a dreary manor. The manor was somber in color scheme — a complete contrast to your lively home, but you knew the walls carried something far darker than their vantablack hue.

↠  word count: 16,724

↠ pairing: aizawa shouta x reader

↠ genre/warnings: angst, horror, gothic literature au, yandere themes, arranged/forced marriage, gore, blood, nudity, suggestive themes

↠ a/n: happy early spoopy season!! so this used to be a bts fic (rip) but i really loved this story so i didn’t want it to go to waste. this is a horror story so please read with caution and i hope you enjoy reading!!

↠ tagging: @lord-explosion-baku @my-bad-writing-requested-edition @out-of-my-way-extras

The world around you was a vibrant yellow and your cheeks were pink. You basked in the afterglow of laughter, the sun beaming down on your face. The wheat field around you was golden and the strands tickled your skin. Your white dress dragged across the dirt, staining it brown. Mud squished between your bare toes, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Everything was serene as you stood in the middle of ginger field that stretched out for miles. A breathless smile spread on your lips, mouth parted, greedily taking in air. Maybe you shouldn’t have run as far and quick as you did, but you felt free. The white mansion with crimson rooftops was a mere speck in the distance. You close one eye and bring your pointer finger and thumb up, squishing the house between them. Repeating this several times, it brought a smile to your face.

Keep reading