#many of which weren't even mine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bunni-v1 · 8 months ago

Note

how do you think lighter would handle the reader after learning it is going to be their first time aka a virgin reader x lighter

Lighter and Virgin!Reader

🍓Yayay! I wanted to really take my time to write this one, so sorry that I didn't get it out super quick. Wrote it while listening to Christmas music btw, probably gonna write smth smutty for Christmas now. I've never written full-on smut outside of an RP setting so... apolocheese if this is cringe. You can throw tomatoes at me, I will eat them like the rodent I am.

Minors DNI

TW: NSFW; First time!; sickeningly sweet lighter; grammar errors probably lol (I promise I edit my stuff).

Info: Lighter x Reader; Nsfw; Fluffy; no pronouns but reader is fem bodied

Lighter is, and always has been, a rather simple man. While he loves you and respects you more than anything in the world, he too has thoughts that any man might have. It was only natural that he found you... mmm... titillating. You were his partner after all, and you were very good-looking if you asked him.

So many times he's found you on his lap, or beneath him whichever comes easiest at the time, drowning in your sweet lips. His hands wandered over your clothed sides, desperate for a taste of the real thing. He was addicted to you, and sweet candies couldn't placate him this time. It was heavenly having you in his grasp, so very close to everything he'd been dreaming about.

The only issue was that you always seemed to have some excuse to push him away. He'd fisted his cock one too many times alone in his room after another failed encounter, and he just didn't get it. You always seemed so eager, so pliant, right up until he slid his hands below your shirt.

The second his fingers made contact with the soft, oh-so-tempting skin there you would jump like he'd burned you. Then you'd push his eager hands down and come up with some lame reason to leave. He understood that maybe you weren't ready, that was okay, but didn't you feel safe enough to tell him? No, surely something else was going on. He could tell, there was something else that was holding you back, and he was going to figure it out.

Tonight would be the perfect chance to do just that. The girls were busy doing their own thing at the bar, leaving him with all the free time in the world to be alone with you. As usual, he had you on his lap, mouths working against each other. His tongue pressed into yours, happily exploring its space as he swallowed up your whimpers and whines.

Fingers press into your thighs like a vice, desperate for all the skin they can get their hands on. As you wind your fingers into his hair, he takes it as his sign to slide his hands up to your hips, slowly pressing you down into him. You jolt a little in his grasp, drawing a low chuckle from the back of his throat. So cute.

You pull back from him, a thin string of saliva keeping you connected, eyes wide and face flushed. Your chest heaves with effort, and your hair is an absolute disaster. It makes his cock twitch in his jeans, another gasp falling from your pretty swollen lips at the sensation.

"Lighter..." You say breathlessly, and he knows its meant to be a scolding remark, but he just finds it too cute.

He cocks his head to the side, "What? Too much to handle?"

You give him an eye roll that is all too endearing, trying and failing to straighten out your messy hair, "It's getting late, I should probably head to mine soon."

His smile falls from his face, disappointed again, like clockwork. He can't even find it in himself to hide it anymore, which makes you frown too. You press a kiss on his cheek, apologetically, "What's wrong? Why is my champion pouting?"

The pet name is almost enough to get him to forget everything, but then you shift on his lap a little and his hard-on screams at him to at least get some kind of answer. So he sighs, patting the meat of your thigh almost sadly, "Why do you always do that?"

You raise an eyebrow, which he mirrors. You know better than to play dumb, Lighter can see right through the schtick. Your demeanor cracks first, and you seem genuinely nervous as you respond, "I don't know..."

"Listen, baby. If you're not ready all you gotta do is tell me--" He tries to soothe you, because he doesn't want you to be upset. There was no shame in just not being ready, but you cut him off before he can finish his reassurances.

"No, it's not-" A grumble leaves your chest, "I want to, I really do I just... I get nervous."

It's his turn to raise an eyebrow at you, sunglasses slanting down his nose as he tilts his head curiously, "What's there to be nervous about...?"

You fluster, looking anywhere your eyes can find that wasn't him. You were awfully cute when you were embarrassed, but he couldn't let himself get distracted. With the gentlest touch to your chin, he refocuses your attention on him. A reassuring smile on his face, urging you without words to tell him what was wrong.

Some kind of war goes on behind your pretty little eyes, and he has to tap your lip with his thumb to center you again. You pout against the finger, and it takes everything in him not to push it up and into your mouth. Finally, after what seemed like ages of waiting, you give another sigh. "I'm... a virgin."

"Oh," he says, automated like a robot. It takes his brain a moment to click the gears together, but once they do, he nods. Oh. That makes so much sense.

"I'm sorry," you mumble, pressing off his chest to get up, but he tugs you back into his lap. Giving you a reassuring squeeze, praying to whatever there was out there for you to give him a moment to collect his thoughts.

It really isn't a big deal to him, not at all. He'd taken people's virginity before - former partners he doesn't even remember the names of - but you. Getting to be your first? It felt like the world had both blessed and cursed him at the same time. You didn't have a good frame of reference, which was great. He'd be the best partner you've had. Yet... he'd also be the only partner you've had, and that was a lot of pressure to put on a guy like him.

"Lighter?" You squeak out, face all nervous and cute in a way that just drives him wild.

A huff leaves him before he can think better of it, causing you to frown a little. His arms wrap around your middle, tugging you closer to him, "That's all? Here you had me thinking you weren't attracted to me all of a sudden."

The response takes you off guard, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. Had you genuinely thought that would be a turn-off for him? What do you take him for, some prude? "I- I mean, you know... I don't have any experience, and I figured since... since you had it would just-"

He hushes you, trying his best not to laugh at how ridiculous the thought is. Most guys would leap to be in his shoes, it was a loser's wet dream to take some innocent angel like you and ruin you. Not Lighter, though. Despite how many times he'd fucked his hand thinking about your pretty little body, he would make sure your first time was perfect. He really needed it to be perfect.

"I don't care about that, baby." There's a teasing lilt in his tone that sends shockwaves down your spine, "I just want you to be happy."

It was your turn to be dumbfounded, staring at him like he had spoken forbidden texts in tongues you didn't understand. He tilts your head with the hand still holding your chin, and it's incredibly sexy the way his sunglasses dip a little so you can see the genuineness in his eyes.

"Would it make you happy if I took your virginity?" You give a slow, dumb nod, and he presses closer, "Do you wanna try tonight?"

Lighter watches with thinly veiled amusement as the pieces slip into place for you, face so warm he could feel it at this distance. You seem to have stalled a bit, so he gives you an award-winning smile and taps your lips to remind you to use them.

"Yes. Please." You blurt out, and it's so incredibly unsexy and awkward, but he still bites his lip like you were sex incarnate.

He gives you all but three seconds to admire the (so, so incredibly hot) look on his face before he's picking you up with no effort, hands wrapped under the swell of your ass like they were made to be there. You cling to his shoulders like a lifeline, and his cock strains in his stupidly tight jeans as he imagines you doing so without the jacket between your skin.

"Where are we going?" You ask, voice uneasy.

He smirks at you, "You didn't seriously think I was gonna let your first time be on some dingy outdoor couch, did you?"

You're silent all the way to his quarters after that, warm face buried into the crook of his shoulder. He can feel how nervous you are in the shaky breaths you let puff out onto his neck. He gives your butt a reassuring pat, which only makes you burrow yourself further into his neck.

He doesn't get to see your face again until he carefully lies you on his bed, and he's glad for it too. The nervous shimmer in your eyes would've been enough for him to bend you over any surface in a heartbeat. Your teeth nibble awkwardly on your swollen bottom lip, and he resists the urge to take it in between his own, instead busying his hands with shrugging off his jacket so he doesn't do exactly that.

You look near terrified when he climbs on top of you, so leans down to kiss your forehead, and in the gentlest voice he can muster whispers, "We'll go slow, but we gotta take our clothes off if we wanna do anything, m'kay?"

You give him a slow nod, slowly drifting your eyes down to his tight-fitting t-shirt. Once you seem to calm a little, he leans down and starts right where you left off. Capturing your lips in a soft kiss, slowly easing back into the passion from earlier. His hips press into yours, but they remain still against your heat. He would let you decide when you were ready for that again.

His hands eagerly slid around your thighs, squeezing the fat between his fingers and sighing as they sank against his touch. Always so malleable, it was addictive, but he couldn't get ahead of himself. This was all about you, after all.

Slowly, he inched his digits up to the edge of your shirt, pooling the fabric between them. You give a little jolt, pressing against his crotch a little harder than he expected drawing a hiss from between his teeth. He rubs his nose against yours, "Can we get rid of your shirt?"

Another slow, unsure nod, and he's easing you up just enough that he can tug the offending fabric up and out of the way. (No bra, thank god, he sucks at removing them.) The sight it reveals better than Lighter could've begun to imagine. Your chest rises and falls with your breath, mesmerizing him. You give him an unsure smile, nodding your head along with it, and he thinks he might genuinely die tonight.

He does not suddenly go into cardiac arrest, so instead his hands glide over your stomach, and it's everything he dreamed of and more. The skin is like heaven beneath his calloused fingertips, and the light whimpers and whines you give him are honey in his ears. You shift with every touch, jerking away and then easing into his touch. Unsure, but oh so willing and wanting.

He maps out each inch of your skin like he might lose his way exploring it, tracing all the way to the final destination of your chest. Your nipples are hard already in combination with his touching and the cold air around you. He gives you one last look, one last chance to tell him no, and then he runs his thumb over the tops of them.

The sound you make is delicious, something between a moan and a strangled choking noise -- almost confused at the pleasure you are feeling. He rolls them in his fingers a few times, watching your face intently as he does so. Your confused moans melt into sighs of contentment, so he decides to try his luck with his mouth. With your head rolled back, he ensures you can feel his breath before he presses his tongue to your skin.

You shoot up, gasping in surprise, but you don't make any move to push him away. No, instead you rake your fingers through his hair, pushing his shaggy bangs back so you can really look at him. Those emerald eyes lock with yours, making a show of slowly kissing his way back up to your chest. Along the contours of your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, and finally right down to your perky bud.

Lighter takes a moment to really appreciate just how nice it looks up close, rather than through the fabric of your tank tops. Just the perfect size for sucking on, he thinks right before he engulfs the needy thing in his mouth. You throw your head back, chest hefting with your cry of "Fuck, Lighter."

He hums, only making it so much worse for you, the vibrations sending a shock through your body that makes you twist your hips just right. He takes his sweet time with your breasts, alternating between the two until you're a messy puddle below him. He hadn't even gotten past the waistband of your pants yet, and you were already so far gone. It was an ego booster, to say the least.

His free hand draws its way down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your pants. They dance their way along your abdomen, just itching to be let in, but not willing to disrespect your boundaries. Lucky for him, they don't have to wait long, and your own join him and carefully aid him in their removal.

It's then that he finally gives your chest a break, pulling back to tug your pants down your legs. Giving himself the time to finally admire you. He'd left... more than a few purple marks along your chest, all of which he thinks look incredibly nice in the light of the moon. His eyes trace their way down your stomach, just like his hands had, and land on the underwear you still had on.

They weren't particularly cutesy or sexy, but on you, it was the hottest thing he'd seen in years. They had a sizable wet spot in the middle, right where he wanted- no, needed to be. The only thing standing between him and tasting you was that thin piece of fabric.

A tug at the hem of his shirt draws him out of his daze, meeting eyes with your cute, nervous ones. It takes him a second to realize you wanted his shirt off, but once he gets the message, he wastes no time in shrugging it to the ground. Following it with his pants, leaving him in his boxers.

Your eyes trace their way along his figure, over his shoulders, across his stomach, and settle shyly on the outline of his dick. It only occurs to him then that you might find him just as attractive as he finds you. With eyes blown wide and distracted as you drink him all in, it's hard to avoid how much you're admiring the view right now.

He has the decency to act embarrassed, despite how he was practically drooling all over you just a few moments ago. He shivers when you reach up and trace your fingers over a scar, breath catching in his throat. "They're so pretty," you mutter, completely unaware that you had said that out loud. It could honestly make him cry. The way you look at him like he's some kind of art piece. So much love and admiration in your eyes. He can't handle it for long, even though you seem to be content just admiring his scars.

He grabs your hand, intertwining your fingers together as he presses you back into the mattress. You let out a huff as he pressed his forehead to yours, pouting now that he had interrupted your show. He gives you a few apologetic kisses, smiling at your pouting.

"Are you sure you wanna keep going, we can stop now if you want," he whispers, soft and gentle.

You nod, confident this time, "I'm ready. I wanna do this with you, Lighter. Not anyone else."

That makes his heart swell, sending the feeling right down to his dick, throbbing and reminding him he needs to prepare you. He wasn't usually one to brag, but he knew he was big, and it would be a tough take for your first time. If he wanted you to enjoy it, he'd have to take care to loosen you up first.

"Okay," he hums, reaching over to grab the lube and condoms from his nightstand, setting them nearby for when he needs it, "I'm gonna have to loosen you up first, and it's gonna hurt. You sure you can take it?"

He feels your muscles contract as he trails gentle, feather-light pecks along the edge of your underwear. "You'll take care of me, just like you always do..." Ah, you were gonna be the death of him tonight, he just knows it.

He hooks his fingers over the sides of your underwear, carefully tugging them down your legs like unwrapping a present he didn't want to ruin. What a gift he received as he threw the useless fabric to the floor, your pretty little cunt already drooling for him.

"God..." He mutters out, enchanted at the very sight. He adjusts his position one last time, making sure he is perfectly positioned in front of your gorgeous pussy. The view is something straight out of a porno, Lighter's messy hair shadowing his eyes as they stare into your very being, big hands gripping at your thighs -- like he was readying himself to consume you whole.

"You ready, baby?" He asks one last time, though it's painfully hard to do so now that he was literally right where he wanted to be, "Cause if you're not you better say so now, I don't think I could stop myself once I start, angel."

You give him the slowest nod known to man, followed by a timid little 'yes' and he's gone. His strong arms wrap under and rest atop your thighs, carefully pulling your folds apart to reveal the shining pearl he'd been dreaming of. Involuntarily he huffs out a hot breath, causing you to squirm a little in his grasp, and then he leans down and kisses your clit.

You jolt at the new sensation, another awkward breathy moan leaving your lips. He pulls back to give you a second, watching your expressions and committing them all to mind, and then he licks his lips and leans down for another wet kiss against your neglected bud. Then another, and another, and another, and at some point his tongue joins the barrage but you have no idea when. Too caught up in how good he's making you feel. So much better than your own fingers.

Lighter is in heaven, completely surrounded by nothing but you. Your little sighs, your skin, your sweet smell, and of course your juices dripping down his chin. You tasted so amazing, better than all the candies he ate. He swallowed you like a man starved, arguably more desperate for your pleasure than you were. Your little whines of his name only fueled him to suck on the little bud like a sweet treat, humming at the taste.

He wondered how many more moans he could get out of you if he added a finger... He had to stretch you out anyway, seems like now was better a time than any. One hand unwound itself from under your leg, snaking along the sheets right up under your bum.

Without taking his eyes or mouth off you he gently traces around your hole with his middle and index. Your hips grind up into his mouth, and he feels the way you clench against his fingertips. A smile grows on his face, god you were adorable, weren't you? He presses the tip of his finger into your heat, and you squeeze around it sucking him in like nothing.

"Shit..." He groans against you, the grumble going right through your nerves drawing a delicious moan out of you. He slowly pumps his finger at the same pace as his tongue, when it rolls across your clit, the finger presses up into you again. The white, hot pleasure that curls up your spine and through your body makes you arch your back. If he kept it up like this, you would cum faster than you ever had before.

Unfortunately, he pulls back and you whine like a needy child. He presses his thumb to your clit instead of his mouth as compensation, rolling in sweet little circles. Not nearly as pleasurable, but still enough to make your head spin, especially when you watch him press his cheek to your thigh to watch his own ministrations.

He is mesmerized by the way your hips jerk into his touch, his finger disappearing and reappearing over and over awfully stimulating for his relatively blank mind. His eyes lazily roll up to yours, smirking when he sees you watching him with lidded ones. "You like it, baby?"

You mutter an incoherent sound of approval, head falling back to the pillows, but that doesn't do it for him. He grabs your face with his free hand, focusing your expression on him yet again. As he does so, he eases a second finger in and you let out the most sinful moan of his name he's ever heard. He presses a kiss against your inner thigh, encouraging you to keep making those pretty noises.

He keeps on watching you, eyes having trouble focusing on both your face and your messy cunt. They're both such a good show, how could he be expected to pick which one was better. All the while he was sucking marks into your inner thigh, adding to the growing coil below your naval.

It was all too much for your poor little untouched body. His eyes watching you so carefully, the sting of his teeth on your thighs, his calloused thumb rubbing delightfully perfect circles against your swollen clit. You couldn't even think about anything other than how nice his fingers felt with circular motions right against that spot that your fingers could never reach.

"Lighter..." Your voice is so much more airy than you thought it would be, "I'm-"

He hums, understanding you without you needing to say anything at all. He removes himself from your thigh, climbing over to press his forehead against yours without stopping his movements. He wanted to see the face you made when you cum clearly. Wanted to have it etched into every corner of his brain so he could never dream of forgetting it.

"Go on then, I've got you," He encourages, and that's all it takes for the tight ball in your stomach to burst, and the flood of pleasure to take its place. You spasm around his fingers, juices coating them and dripping down his wrist. It's a beautiful thing to Lighter, watching the way your face scrunches up and then melts into pure pleasure. That was a face he could never forget, not in a million lifetimes.

He keeps his fingers moving at a slow and steady pace, easing you back down from your high. Only pull them out when you stop clenching around them, sucking your essence clean from them with a groan of satisfaction. "Delicious," He whispers, easing you back into the sheets, limbs soft and limp with the pleasant aftershocks of your orgasm.

Lighter is still there above you, watching with all the admiration in the world as your gaze refocuses on him. It's an infectious look that you subconsciously mirror, cradling his face in the palm of your hand.

"Feel good?" He asks, playing with a loose strand of your hair.

You nod, pressing a kiss to his nose, "Wonderful, actually. I don't know what I was so scared of."

He chuckles deep and warmly from the back of his throat, "I'm glad."

He presses gentle kisses across your cheek, nosing along your jaw and following with soft presses into the sensitive skin. You scratch his scalp appreciatively, more than happy to accept the affections.

"You wanna call it there?" He murmurs against your throat, hot breath leaving goosebumps in its wake, "Don't wanna push you too far."

You shake your head, frowning down at him, "No, no. I wanna keep going. It's not fair of me to leave you like... that." You gesture to his still rock-hard dick pressed against your thigh.

He comes back up to look at you, caressing your face with utmost care, "Don't worry about me, I can live without getting off."

"I know," you giggle, and it's such a sweet sound to him, "I want to, Lighter. I want you. Please indulge me just a little longer?"

He really can't argue with that, not with how you're smiling at him. "Alright," He sits up, grabs the condoms, and rips the box open with practiced ease, "but it's not gonna feel good to start."

"I know," You answer, sitting up to watch him slide his boxers down. His cock springs out, tip an angry red and bleeding precum down the shaft. It was an incredibly hot sight to see him slide the condom over himself, his muscles flexing from the much-needed attention. "I definitely know."

He smirks, settling between your legs again as he picks up the lube this time. "Enjoying the view?"

"Too much," you respond, enraptured as he tugs along his member a few times, shuddering at the sensation.

He takes the time to adjust you beneath him, tugging your hips up in an angled position. The manhandling is surprisingly hot, and your heart skips a beat when he grabs at your thigh more roughly than you're used to.

"I hope I can keep you satisfied," he muses, lining himself up with your pussy.

He runs the tip against your clit a few times, spreading a mixture of lube and your cum around, hissing to himself at the feeling. He wasn't even inside and he was already needing more of you, god what did you do to him?

He presses the tip against your weeping hole, hot and desperate against him. It fluttered in anticipation, feeling far too empty knowing what his fingers felt like. It had you praying to know what his cock felt like fully pressed inside. Surely it would fill you up even better.

His emerald green eyes come down to stare into yours, an intensity you've only ever seen from him in fights burning behind them. "Ready?"

You take a deep breath and then nod as assuredly as you can. You had no idea what you were getting into, but as the tip slowly sunk into you, you felt lightheaded. The sting was deep, drawing a hiss of pain out of you, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. He wasn't lying when he said it would hurt, but this was way worse than you expected.

He leans down, locking his fingers with yours and pressing loving kisses along your cheeks. His hair tickles your skin and it does wonders in distracting you from the burn of his stretching you. That was just the tip. If you couldn't handle that, how could you take the rest of him?

Lighter doesn't let you worry about it, rubbing his thumbs into your hips. Muttering sweet nothings into your sweaty skin, worshipping you like a god. Like you were his whole world. In his pleasure-fueled haze, that was more truth than it was fiction.

For every stinging inch, Lighter muttered praises and peppered a thousand more kisses across your burning skin. This was the most full you'd ever felt, and the more he pushed inside the more you wanted. He stuffed himself in to the hilt, stopping fully when his hips were pressed flush against yours. You shuddered at the sensation of his tip kissing your cervix. When he said he was big he meant it, and it was everything you wanted and more.

His rough hands slide gently along your sides, coaxing you to just look at him. Your glazed eyes slide over to his face, and you smile dumbly at his expression. His face is red, brows furrowed in concentrated effort and eyes clouded in lust. "You okay? Still hurt?"

You shake your head, chest rising and falling with more effort than you were used to. "It feels good. I like it."

He swallows hard, adam's apple bobbing in his throat. Fuck, he just can't stand it. You were so tight and warm, sucking him in like he was your last meal. He could feel your pussy clench around him suddenly, and he had to bury his face into your neck to stop himself from moaning out loud.

Who could've imagined a few years without sex would make him so weak. Maybe it was actually just you that made him like this. He couldn't possibly imagine any pussy better than yours, it felt like it was molded perfectly just for him. The thought occurs to him, like a stroke of genius, that this was his pussy and it was molded to him. Now that you let him fuck you once, he could do it again and again and again whenever either of you liked.

He liked that idea a lot more than he probably should, his cock twitching a little at the prospect. You squeeze back and he does moan this time, deep and throaty into your neck. It's quite the sound from such a big guy, making your skin tingle excitedly. You had been the reason for it, after all, it was flattering.

"Lighter?" You say, startling him. He looks up at you from his spot against your shoulder, "Can you move? I'm too full with you just sitting there."

He blinks at you, taking in your words carefully and digesting them. Yeah, you were gonna kill him tonight. You had no fucking clue what you were doing to him.

"Whatever you want," He mumbles out, pressing a wet kiss to your cheek, before slowly pulling out.

You groan out in tandem, the drag of his cock and a squeeze of your walls more pleasurable than you'd imagined. Then he pushes back in at the same pace and you shudder in his arms. He keeps the pace slow and easy, still able to remember that he wanted to be gentle despite how much he wished to be anything but. First time, he echoed in his head, take it easy Lighter.

Each drag of his cock against your plush warm insides has you gasping out, desperate for more and more. He watches you with an intensity to rival his excitement during a fight, taking in each detail with careful consideration. The way your brows scrunch up when he brushes that gummy spot with his tip, and how your teeth tug on your lips, and the way your eyelashes flutter when his hips lay flush into yours.

Lighter never considered himself an artist, but damn if you weren't his greatest masterpiece like this. You open your eyes and finally look at him, and the intensity in his gaze has you shying away into your palms. He can't have that, he wanted to look, so he grabbed your wrists and set them on his shoulders. They curl into the skin, crescent-shaped marks sure to form in the morning.

You still try to evade his gaze, so he follows with his own face, leaning forward. "Don't hide," he coos, his hands moving your hips with his upper body so he's fully leaning over you now, the new position allowing him to not only look at you but hit much deeper than before. "Lemme see yer pretty face."

A wanton moan is ripped from your throat as he picks up his pace, and you finally look at him when he grabs at your chin. His hair is stuck to his sweaty forehead, breathing heavily as he keeps up the new speed he's set. The wild look in his eyes is enough to make you clench and get to watch in real-time the effect it has on him. Swallowing hard as his eyebrows come together in pleasured surprise.

You were making it so, so hard on him, really you were. Each reaction you had made it so much more difficult to keep himself together. When you clench around him again he lets out a sound between a sigh and a squeak. Your fingers are running along the nape of his neck and through his hair, and it's nearly got him choking on air.

You're no better, hardly even coherent as his hips continue pistoning in and out of you at such consistent pacing. The wet slapping of skin on skin is the only thing you can focus on, everything else is too much for your muddled brain to understand.

The hand that isn't keeping your eyes on him comes down to massage your clit again, fingers splayed across your abdomen to feel himself through your skin while his thumb takes care of you. He was close, and he could tell you were too. Your moans getting more and more desperate, and the squeezing you gave him more and more desperate to keep him moving.

He didn't have it in himself to say anything coherent, so instead he settled on kissing you. Sloppy and uncoordinated and more teeth than anything else, but he still kissed you. Swallowing up every moan like a man starved.

His pace grows sloppy as he chases your highs, both of you moaning unabashedly loudly. He would hear from Lucy in the morning, he was sure of it, but that didn't matter too much to him now. Not when he felt you come undone around him. Your whole body tensed, desperate little cunt squeezing him in a vice grip and moans so delicious that he couldn't help but follow your lead.

He gives one last harsh thrust, and then he unloads into the condom. He thinks for a moment that he wishes it wasn't there but focuses instead on sucking at the juncture of your neck. You writhe under him, fingers raking down his back harsh enough to leave red lines in his skin.

It was better than he had expected it to feel, that was for certain. Even as he calmed down and came back to reality, there were little sparks of pleasure ringing through his body. He kissed his way over the marks he'd left on your body, waiting patiently for you to calm down before he pulled out.

Both of you let out sounds of complaint at the loss, but he knew that he couldn't stay inside you forever (no matter how nice that sounded). He smiled warmly down at you, caressing your face with such gentleness it could make you cry. "You alright...?"

You nod, brushing the hair out of his face so you can look at him properly, "This is probably the best I've ever felt in my whole life."

That gets him to laugh, pressing his forehead against yours, "I'm glad I could be of service."

"Did you-" You start, but he doesn't let you finish before he responds.

"Yes. I did enjoy myself, very much, baby." He hums, washing away any insecurities you could've had with ease.

He eases you up into a sitting position with him, holding you there until he is sure you will stay like that by yourself. Then, he stands and digs around his dresser for a towel to wipe you down with. You take the time to admire how nice his ass is out of those skinny jeans, humming to yourself at the sight.

When he rejoins you on the bed, you smirk at him, "Your ass is nice."

"Yeah," he huffs out a laugh, "Yours ain't all that bad either."

You let him do what he needs to, wiping you of sweat and any fluids that might become uncomfortable after a while. Then he does the same for himself, and the show is rather nice. When he finishes cleaning the both of you up, he crawls into bed and pulls you to his chest.

You take your chance to trace over the scars again, admiring just how pretty his marred skin is. He doesn't say a word, and you have the understanding not to make verbal comments now. The warmth of his chest combined with the pleasant ache in your limbs was enough to lull you to sleep.

The last thing you hear is Lighter mumble a quiet, "I love you." Though you don't respond, you know he knows you feel the same way.

#zzz x reader #zenless zone zero #zzz #lighter lorenz #lighter zzz x reader #lighter zzz #lighter x reader #lighter lorenz x reader #bunni's treats 🧁

2K notes · View notes

dxrk-red · 20 days ago

Text

✦︎Dick Grayson x Reader Are You Mine?

Younger! Experienced Nightwing! x Older! Inexperienced! Reader

Your boyfriend of almost a year, Dick Grayson, was the first love of your life. Unbeknownst to you, the boy was a charming flirt before you two got together. Even if you weren't his first love, did his heart cherish you as much as you cherished his?

Your one and only boyfriend, Nightwing, was a tooootalll flirt. And guess what? Everyone knew it. Why? Because he flirted with everyone. Except for you. And let me tell you, Dick had a massive crush on you for years. You made the poor thing so skittish. Adorable to see how serious he was about you. You were his senior at the GCPD, a higher-ranked officer, often coming around to speak with him and Gordon about the cases that concerned you. Oh, boy. Dick made sure that every case concerned you. "Officer [Name]! New case in today, heard even Batman couldn't solve it." "Officer! Report from Bludhaven. You might wanna check it out." "O-ffi-cerrrr, Mr. Gordon told me that we got some leads from Nightwing." With unimpressed, earnest eyes, you looked up at Grayson as he bothered you for the umpteenth time that day. "Yes, Grayson. I heard. It was helpful." That made Dick swoon over the stoic and unflattered persona of yours. Of how lusterless and baritone your voice was, the way you were so indifferent. You thought Nightwing was helpful. He even went home and rolled around in his bed for quite a while, giggling and kicking his feet, hiding his face in the pillows, which in turn, had the poor butler Alfred quite concerned. You knew where to give your fucks, and Dick wished upon a shooting star that one of your fucks would conveniently land on him. So when they did, when Dick finally mustered up the gall to ask you out, instead of dropping hints, when you said 'Yes, Grayson. I'd like to go with you, with mutual sentiments of romance,' he melted. That was the best decision he made, and so did you; he was your first love. You weren't that foolish either, to not be able to tell that Richard Grayson and Nightwing were the same person. You caught on pretty quick, but he still didn't let you into his world. Every time he let that happen, something awful would occur. He truly couldn't lose you. So he kept you away, hidden. Loved, but hidden.

Crime Case in Gotham again. A complex one- involving Penguin, Roman Sionis, Ra' Al Ghul, and, surprisingly...condiment king? Despite Bruce's protests about not letting Metas in his city, here were Kid Flash, Zatanna, Starfire, Oracle, Cyborg, and Aqualad, along with the Batfamily. To be honest, they should be more than enough, but the team wanted to hang out again, 'it's been too long,' they said. So when your department, along with the heroes, showed up at the crime site to investigate, you couldn't help but notice how flirtatious they were with Dick. Notepad and pen in hand, leading your crew, you eavesdropped on your Nightwing and his friends' conversation as they greeted him. And with your detective skills, it didn't take long for you to figure out that Dick had been with Kory, Zatanna, and Barbara before. I mean, with a ridiculously charming smile, and that...behind of his, there was no doubt that your boyfriend was named a profanity and called-

Richard, the Dick Grayson. That evening, when you both met up like usual, you couldn't help but ask. "So...you were seeing Starfire, Zatanna, and Oracle before?" Peacefully, you questioned. "Uhhh..." Well shit? Dick really didn't know what to say here without making it sound weird. So many girls, right? Lovely. Thus, to even it out, while rubbing his nape, he added. "K.D. too. And a few more...girls. "

And Wally, too? Some more? Damn. Good to know. Raising your brows in mild astonishment, you hum, nodding your head. He spoke again.

"Not that it matters anymore, honest. I'm with you and that's...all I care about." Gently taking your hand, Dick brought it up to his lips, resting his cheek against it. Oh, so in love he looked, eyes glowing with admiration. It was...beautiful to see. But somewhere, deep down inside you, there was this awful thought that you weren't enough. As in, he'd dated so many people, he knew his way around such things. And you? You were in love for the first time. This was new to you; you were absolutely 'pure'. Would you be another brick in the wall to Dick's dating magazine? Would you even be worth comparing? You're older than him! You should know more, and this was nothing short of embarrassing. You should be making the first move and- Fuck...was this even going to go anywhere? If it couldn't work with the top Heroes, would it work with you? Eyes hesitant, yet yearning for the truth, you looked away. "Thank you, Richard." You muttered. "But I...would have appreciated it if you told me before, yes? Like I've spoken to you about my past." "There was nothing to speak about, [Name]-" "From what I heard, there was enough to speak about." There was nothing more to say. Spiralling, you decided to keep your distance from Dick for the next day. Of course, you texted daily- how could you not? Though now your replies were less enthusiastic, and Dick noticed but he decided to give you your space. Walking briskly across the GCPD hallways, making less eye contact, the case was mostly being discussed with the other officers, quick but short replies, you were in need of assurance. Dick hated it. He wanted to lie in your lap and feel your fingers thread through his hair again, so, so bad. He really wanted to bridge the gap. Ugh! He should have told you! But then, why was your screen displaying a video of Richard Grayson, shirt off, eyes lidded, swinging from a golden chandelier at a house party, drunk out of his mind on his close friends? '7 mins ago. "dickrobatics 🤸‍♂️🍻" The next picture was blurry, Dick grinning hazily, slumped on a couch next to Wally and Kory, three absolutely wasted and slumped on each other, with Jason Todd's forehead in the frame, taking a selfie with the three behind him. '7 mins ago. ''my two faves 💕'' Oh, really? Was being with you really all he cared about?

Woahoh, DC? That's new. I'll work on PART 2 if it is requested, so do let me know.

Constructive criticism is welcome with open arms, and so are requests or prompts. Hope you have a great day ahead. Thanks for reading.

-Masterlist-

333 notes · View notes

multific · 2 years ago

Text

Moonlight

Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Wife!Reader

Warnings: childbirth (no detailed description)

Summary: Aemond loves his little wife, so naturally, when you give birth to your first son, Aemond falls in love even deeper. However, when a simple refusal of his breaks your heart, it will be difficult for him to win you back.

It was hard to keep you close. You were much like Aemond, a true fighter. You had a fire in you which couldn't be questioned. A fire towards him, pure love. And now, fire towards your son.

Aeren was only born a week ago, yet you protected him fiercely like a dragon.

And you refused to let the small child out of your hands.

When Aemond was allowed in the room, he saw the blood, he heard your screams and many times, he wanted to barge in but he knew he couldn't.

So, once he was allowed in, someone informed him that it was a boy and that you were in bad shape.

Aemond could see it, you looked beyond tired, yet you smiled.

But your smile didn't last long.

Aemond refused to hold his son.

"Give him to me." he heard your voice as he looked from the woman holding his son to you. You looked angry. Way too angry.

It was too late when Aemond realised what he had just done.

He refused to hold his own child.

And since then, you didn't speak a word to him.

You slept in a different room with your baby, sometimes, late at night, he heard the cries. He wanted to get up and go to you but he couldn't, his guilt was overbearing.

"You should put a leash on her, brother. If I had a wife like that, she wouldn't be sleeping in another room." Aegon taunted his brother daily.

One day, you were in the gardens, walking with your son in your arms when Aegon spoke up.

Aemond never heard his brother speak with such longing.

"I truly wish she was mine."

Aemond looked at his brother who was watching you.

"But she's mine." was his simple and firm reply.

But you truly weren't.

You used to be, now, you just sat next to him during dinners.

One night, you excused yourself, and he followed you.

In an empty corridor, he spoke up.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he knew why. He very well knew why.

"I'm sorry, My Prince." you turned and looked at him. "I believe you are mistaken. I'm not avoiding you, I just hate to see the disappointment on your face." this surprised Aemond. "I gave birth to a child you refused to even look at. I loved you, Prince Aemond, I truly did. But I love my child more. And if you cannot look at him, you won't get to look at me. Fill your bed with whores for all I care. Goodnight."

"You are mistaken." he said, not letting you leave, but you did grab the handle. "You-You were in that bed, crying, screaming and bleeding for hours. I couldn't do anything. And when they let me in, the blood... so much... they told me you were weak, you survived but you needed a lot of rest. How-How could I hold my child when the love of my life almost died? How could I look at him when I was worried to even look at you? I feared you would die giving birth. I was shaking. I feared losing you and my child. That is why I didn't hold him. I was scared." you stood there, your hand on the door, you looked away from his eyes.

"Then you could have just fucking say so, Aemond! For fucks sake!"

"That is not very lady-like."

"FUCK lady-like, you made me believe you hate me and our son! I believed I disappointed you since you wanted a daughter."

"I said I would be happy either way. My emphasis was on a girl because I feared if you had a daughter, you would see that as disappointing my bloodline."

"You are fucking terrible at communicating." you opened the door and walked into the huge room in which you stayed the last couple of weeks.

Aemond followed you, and watched as you walked over to the small bed and picked up your son. "Next time, you should just tell me. Letting me assume things clearly don't work out."

"Of course." a small smile found its way onto his lips, next time, it was the promise of a future, a promise of more, something he could work towards. He walked over to you after closing the door. "I wish to hold him." you handed him the small child who didn't even stir in his sleep. "Aeren you named him I recall." Aemond's attention was now fully on his son as you decided to leave the two alone after watching them for a couple of minutes.

You got changed and when you arrived back, Aemond was sitting on the bed, his son on his chest.

"Some nights I heard his cries. It broke my heart but I broke yours far more. I apologise for not being clear and for causing you pain. I am truly sorry."

"I'm sorry as well. I should have asked." you said as you sat down next to him. "I will have to feed him soon."

"I will stay here with you."

You smiled as the moon shined through the window, illuminating the room a little more, helping the fire so you could see your husband's face.

"I love you so much Aemond."

"I love you too, My Queen." you giggled, moving closer to him as he leaned down to kiss you.

You two kissed in the moonlight until your son made it clear that he was hungry.

It all made you look towards a better future.

Taglist: @castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @brascaris @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

4K notes · View notes

tritoch · 4 months ago

Text

it took me until the pelupelu quests to really get what dawntrail is trying to go for with the moblins of earthenshire.

the first time through MSQ, the feat of pots stuff really didn't land for me. a lot of emphasis is placed on the relationship between the helphands and the potsworn in a way that ends up being pretty straightforwardly and kind of boringly about the importance of artisans, craftsmen, and other skilled laborers to civil society. after the collapse of the yok huy empire, earthenshire used to abduct potsworn under exploitative terms, gulool ja ja shows up and says "not only will hiring and caring for living workers keep people from wanting to kill you, it will also lead to the production of finer arts and crafts," the moblins agree, there is much rejoicing. in the present day, wuk lamat favors gulool ja ja's "let's all benefit from peaceful urbanization and governance" approach while bakool ja ja reverts to direct violence. it's not a bad bit of story, i guess, but it's also not much, and it's soon overshadowed by wuk lamat's abduction.

but the pelupelu society quests highlight it in a different light. it emphasizes not just the potsworn, but the fact that the moblins are facing the question of how to handle a bounty of natural resources.

the moblins of earthenshire were previously oppressed and exploited by the yok huy specifically for the natural riches of southern kozama'uka. what kinds of natural riches? well, gulool ja ja specifically calls out "the quality of the materials used" in earthenshire's goldwork, so we can guess probably gold.

another big answer is staring us right in the face, in the form of earthenshire's architecture: high-quality clay (and feldspar) for ceramics, and probably a characteristic glaze known to earthenshire's artisans. the blue-green color and "cracked" quality of the finish makes me think FFXIV's writers and designers had celadon in mind, even if the final hue is heavier on the blue and lighter on the green than the color celadon is usually associated with in english.

we are told some of earthenshire's traditional industries: underground mining, fishing, alluvial (stream-bed) mining. under the yok huy empire, moblin society was focused entirely on resource extraction. the tour guide says that without the yok huy, the moblins were bereft of both "providers and protectors," suggesting that under the yok huy the moblins were neither producing their own goods nor exercising many traditional powers of government. in many ways, they still don't!

what gulool ja ja proposed, and the moblins have enacted, is now almost an inversion of traditional metropolitan-hinterland relations. under the usual paradigm, the hinterland, resource-rich but unable to resist the interference of foreign powers, is exploited by the metropole, both in terms of its natural resources (which are extracted and shipped back to the metropole for use in the production of goods, as luxuries, etc.) and its people (who are oppressed and forced to labor in extractive industries for the benefit of the metropole). and of course as is usual in colonial relations you expect the metropole to impose itself culturally on the territories it controls. that kind of exploitative relationship between foreign powers and indigenous labor & resources is exactly what some people feared in the run-up to dawntrail (if you weren't paying attention at the time, some of the initial imagery out of shaaloani made some fans leery at the possibility that FFXIV was about to do an "old west" plotline about ceruleum extraction by eorzean powers in turali lands).

by contrast, the moblins of earthenshire control their own natural resources, and the relationship is that they take skilled labor from the metropole (tuliyollal), assimilate those artisans culturally and economically into their society, mediate their access to the natural bounty of kozama'uka, and sell their wares back to the metropole as products of earthenshire. it's all a bit hand-waved in the classic fashion of ffxiv (where are all the moblin miners?), but it's clear enough what's intended. even with the yok huy gone, the moblins have largely maintained their previous way of life, but in a way that centers and celebrates their culture and allows them both civic control and a sort of intellectual property control over the products that result ultimately from their extractive labor. it inverts the traditional "resource curse" narrative in which small, resource-rich countries are "naturally" inclined to be colonized and exploited.

it also pushes back a bit on ffxiv's usual paradigm around resource extraction and arts production. disciple of the hand quests, outside of their specific storylines, often broadly celebrate the ingenuity and labor of the individual artisan. disciple of the land quests, on the other hand, are often about the relationships between labor and the land (with an emphasis on natural stewardship and learning respectfully from local cultures about their local lands) or the importance of extractive labor to broader society.

on the subject of art, what earthenshire does is uniquely honor the role that extractive and reproductive labor play in the creative and artistic process. though the craftsmanship is certainly exceedingly fine, that's not what is truly unique about moblin society or earthenshire's wares. ffxiv is well aware that art cannot exist unless we compensate artists properly (and the existence of the cracked cistern works to complicate our picture of earthenshire along these lines). but what earthenshire truly celebrates is all the labor that goes into the creation of the art that often goes unremarked: the labor of the miner and the porter, of the cook and the launderer. that is the labor which makes each and every good made there not just a product of the individual artisan, but a product of earthenshire.

#ffxiv #dawntrail #dawntrail spoilers #moblins #earthenshire #meta: durai report

405 notes · View notes

kirietown · 3 months ago

Text

Star Burster | Part I

Pairing: clark kent x reader

Summary: it was simple really, you’d marry clark and one day he’d take over your daddy’s farm. but there’s a man in the sky, the papers’ say he’s the superman, and he’s telling you sometimes things aren’t so simple.

Content: 1800s ahistorical rural kansas AU, arranged marriage, height difference, cheating (on clark with superman), identity play, breeding kink, period typical sexism, smut, possessiveness

18+

[chapter one] [chapter two] [chapter three]

Word Count: 3.5K

Your mother slapped your knee under the table, discretely signalling you to look up from your plate. It appeared that Jonathan Kent had asked you a question. You often daydreamed during these weekly dinner parties, your mind occupied by the most random of things.

"Pardon?" You inquired. The fine lines around his eyes crinkled as he offered you a small smile. You were suddenly very thankful for the Kent family kindness, as you knew other Southern families would not have reacted as kindly to your obvious disinterest in this meal. However, it wasn't as though you were necessarily the guest of honour or something. In fact, up until that moment, no one had paid you any mind and instead your parents had been engaged in their usual banter with the Kents.

"I said I heard you'd gotten into knitting recently," he spoke with a look of expectance on his face. You'd barely even started knitting until a few nights ago, and nearly gave up yesterday during a visit to your grandmother due to her overbearing attitude regarding your daily lessons.

"Yes," you replied. "I thought it would be a nice hobby to have, especially as I can just make my own clothes instead of having to go out into town whenever I need to." You'd been picking up random hobbies as of late much to your mother's enthusiasm, though you expected she'd be less enthusiastic at the realisation that you just wanted any distraction from your approaching wedding with Clark. At the thought, you peeked over, noting his usual slouched shoulders and dull shy expression. You fought back a sigh at the thought that this man was who your parents were pushing you to be with. Clark was gentle and kind, but judging by the fact he could barely speak a full sentence in your presence, you weren't sure how he felt about you.

He was different from the other town boys, growing up most boys were pushy and rowdy. Many of which grew up to either work in the mines or take over their respective family businesses. Clark was different, he’d started a job recently at the local publishing house, manning the print and press. It was typically a two person job, but Clark was fast according to his boss, Perry. Jonathan hadn’t been entirely pleased by this, or so your mother’s gossip suggested, as like any father in Smallville, his father wanted him to take over the family farm. Then eventually he’d merge with your family’s farm, just like they all intended.

"Ya hear that, Clark?" Jonathan said. "Maybe she can make you something too for the Winter." His tone was teasing, as he spoke to his adult son as though he were a shy school aged boy.

Clark stuttered for a moment before he collected himself, "yeah, maybe." You offered a smile in response as the table laughed which only seemed to encourage the blush on his face. Again, Clark was kind, he was sweet, but that was where it ended despite the fact that within a few weeks time he would be your husband. It was strange to think about, as you'd hardly call your relationship a courtship as the man could hardly handle you in his personal space. But eventually, he would be sharing a bed with you and laying down with you, and doing what married folks do with you.

And you didn't know how you felt about that.

…

After your weekly dinners with the Kents, the grown folks liked to give you what they called your couple time where Clark and yourself strolled outside along the perimeter of the Kent family farm. Usually, these walks were filled with meaningless chatter from your end whilst Clark stuttered a response. Despite knowing you his entire life, he still couldn't get a full sentence across, just like how he couldn't stand straight or keep his hair out of his eyes.

Something needed to change. You weren’t sure what, but you felt as though you needed to unravel Clark, dig into his insides a little and see what was hiding under all that shyness. It was morbid, but something about his meekness brought out that edge in you.

You paused in your steps, feeling the hard gravel under the heels of your shoes. You faced the giant man, your head barely reaching his chest making you realise just how large he was despite the way he often shrank upon himself. Your actions seemed to have unnerved him as you noted the small tremor in his hands.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" You looked up to face him, his eyes obscured by his glasses and shaggy dark hair.

"Wha--?"

"This marriage," you said. You weren't sure why you were so bold, and perhaps it had to do with your own insecurities and anxieties finally creeping in on you. Nonetheless, you persisted. "Do you want to marry me, Clark?"

"O... Of course," he responded. "D-do I ... Do I make you feel otherwise?"

You sighed, your eyes suddenly downcast. “Do you desire me Clark?" You’d read a line like that in a book a while back, you figured it was relevant enough.

The man's brows knitted in confusion, "Well, I- I just said of course, I want to marry you."

"That's not what I just asked."

"I don't understand," he murmured. You breathed out another sigh out of frustration before you clenched your fists together.

"Do you find me desirable, Clark? What am I to you?” You finally breathed. Your eyes snapping to his, barely spotting traces of blue obscured by his curls.

“Well,” he paused for a moment. “You’re my betrothed, and I think you’re… Well, I think y-you’re… Nice.” Nice. Nice? You were engaged to a man who could barely speak to you, who could not answer if he found you desirable.

“If I asked you to, could you even kiss me now Clark? On our wedding night would you even be bold enough to slip my dress off, or would you simply roll over and act like I don’t exist?” You snapped your lips shut, suddenly embarrassed at your own forwardness. Clark, this was Clark. Kind Clark who was now being harassed over sex when he could barely even hold your hand without turning red.

What would he think of you now? A crazed harlot?

Before he could even stutter out another word, you muttered a small sorry before you ran off. Thankful that the dinner had occurred at the Kent house rather than your own home which was a few minutes away so that you wouldn't have to face your family.

…

You hadn't stopped running until you reached your bedroom, you paced around before opening your window and letting sobs escape into the evening air. You were an embarrassment, if Clark could barely look at you before, how could he look at you now, after hearing what you had asked him? The chilly fall air caused goosebumps to raise against your arms which you paid no mind to as you slumped over the windowsill, tears cascading down your dampened cheeks. You hardly noticed the man until he spoke.

"Hearing a lady as beautiful as you cry," he started, "well, it just breaks my heart to see." You yelped, fluttering away from the window in shock at the sudden words, only for your eyes to widen in shock at the sight of the vibrant blue and red of the man's suit.

"You," you gasped.

"Me," he replied.

"Y-You're that... Superman they got in the papers; who can fly, and shoot lasers outta his eyes," you said in astonishment from your spot on the floor as the Superman gracefully squeezed himself through your open window, his red boots thumping onto the floor. You watched as he reached forward and offered you a hand, his eyes shining mischievously.

"So you've heard of me?"

"I may be a farm girl, but I'd have to be living under a rock in an old boot to have not heard of you," you replied, taking his hand and yelping as he easily pulled you up, your eyes face to face with the decorative symbol on his chest. You noticed elaborate patterns woven into the fabric of his suit, realising the theories that he was some sort of alien must have been true due to the fact the material seemed out of this world entirely. The blue, red, and yellows shimmering as though it was alive.

He chuckled, "a rock in an old boot? You have a funny way with words." He smiled, and you noted that he had dimples.

"That I do," you said, taking a step back. "Now why exactly are you here? Last I seen in the papers, you tend to fight off bad business owners and bank robbers, and I ain't robbed no banks, Mr. Superman." You were anxious by his presence, it came across as odd that he'd be in your bedroom.

"Call me, Superman," he simply stated. "Mr. Superman is my father." You raised your brow at his awful sense of humour, it was at though he was socializing for the first time ever, and for all you knew, he could have been. "And fighting people isn't all I do, sometimes... Well, sometimes, when a civilian seems like they're in distress, I stop by and see if I can cheer 'em up. Now, do you wanna talk about your problems, I promise I'm a good listener-- and a good punching bag too."

"Well, Superman, I'm set to marry someone who I think doesn't wanna marry me. Our folks have set this up our whole lives, and well..." You trailed off, realising that you had said too much. You had meant to say something sarcastic, but instead ended up basically confessing your worries anyway.

"How can you be so sure he doesn't want you?"

"I just am," you snapped, causing him to wince. "Sorry, I just know..."

"Well," he replied before taking a seat on the couch below your windowsill, which funny enough still made him taller than eye level. "You seem like a swell girl; funny and pretty, what else could he need? Maybe he's... Shy... Or bad with words…"

You scoffed, "he's shy alright." You turned your head, hoping he couldn't see the embarrassment upon your face at being called pretty. You couldn't recall if a man had ever called you that before, and the thought caused more tears to escape down your face.

"Oh no," he whispered. He sat up in his spot, his arms reaching up as though he was nervous to touch you, before he settled on laying them clenched in his lap. "I was just trying to cheer you up, but it seems I just upset you more."

You could hear the pain in his voice, and for a second you wondered how selfless a person had to be to be a hero. You'd seen him in the local papers doing all sorts of things, fighting bad guys, monsters, aliens, with a smile for the press photographs, Yet here he was, pained by the thought of having hurt your already delicate feelings. He was simply too kind for his own good, you were used to kindness and southern hospitality, but this was different.

"Please don't be upset," you said. "It's... it's just that I don't think a man has ever called me pretty before, so hearing it for the first time like this... Well, I guess it's a lot."

There was a moment of silence before he spoke again.

"That fiancé of yours sure is a fool then," he said bitterly, and yet it felt as though malice was new to him. "Why... If you were mine, I think I'd remind you everyday just how beautiful you are. So... So, don't cry over clowns like him, okay?" Clark, a fool? He was many things, but you never saw him as an idiot. He was often mistaken for one with all his clumsy habits, but Clark was smart, your mother always said that boy had a good head on his shoulders. She said you were smart too, but you were always too impulsive.

You were about to show her just how impulsive you could be.

You weren't sure if it was your own lack of agency that pushed you to do this next move, or perhaps the thrill of getting close to a man who was supposedly made of steel. Perhaps, it was the fact that in that moment, you were a young woman, and he was a man, and he said something that lit up something deep in you that had never been lit up before. You walked hesitantly over to him, gingerly bringing your hand to his cheek, and planted a kiss on his lips. You felt his hesitation, and nearly pulled away before suddenly he grabbed you and pulled you close, lifting your body effortlessly as he stood up and kissed you hungrily.

It felt as though he had been waiting for this, though you weren't sure if this was your own delusion.

Every few moments you pulled away to gasp for air before returning to his lips, your fingers scaling all over his uniform, feeling the ridges curiously as you had never been so close to a man before in your life, let alone one as strong as this one. A sense of guilt filled your stomach at the thought of Clark, only to wash away as the hero's mouth moved to your neck. Your breathing growing heavier as he grew more bold. Hesitantly you grabbed the front of his suit and pulled until he understood and carried you over to your bed, dropping you gently on its edge. Your dress had ridden up, exposing your inner thighs as he adjusted himself between them. His fingers moved to unravel the front of your dress, allowing for your breasts to spill out and immediately be claimed by his lips. Eagerly, he sucked whilst his hand squeezed and rubbed your other breast.

The pace had jumped quickly, but you were eager to continue, bucking your hips up to meet his. A groan escaped his lips as your pelvis met the hard mass beneath his suit.

"How does this come off?" You asked him, breathlessly. He removed his lips from your breast, and stared at you in a haze for a moment before in a flash of red and blue he reappeared on top of you void of his suit. Gingerly, you reached your hand to feel his naked chest, noting the way his heart was beating eratically, though if he was nervous he didn't show it.

"Can you... Can you touch me?" You asked hesitantly.

He looked at you curiously before he realized what you meant. Carefully his hand moved, squeezing your inner thigh before making contact with your soaked cunt. You felt something twitch against your thigh as his fingers began to prob, gingerly swirling around your wetness before entering you with a soft moan. You gasped at the sensation, your hips bucking to meet his fingers eagerly as he slowly pumped you with curiosity. You watched his eyes, noting the way he looked past your garments in wonderment at the way his fingers delved deep inside you. A sudden curve in his finger led to a loud moan from you, and he paused in his movements, now staring at your expression before repeating the motion. His blue eyes locked onto your strained face as he continued to rock his fingers and curve them inside you, meeting that special squishy spot.

"Please..." you murmured.

"What do you need?" He asked, another finger moving inside you now, as he bent down closer to your face, brushing loose hair away from your forehead tenderly as though you were lovers. You could feel it, large and warm against your thigh, twitching occasionally with every moan you let out.

Was this what it felt like to be desired?

"Can you... Put it in me?" You felt your face grow hot at your own words, knowing there was no going back from this.

"Are you sure?" He whispered, as though it would be a secret, as though he wouldn't judge you for allowing him to defile you, to ruin you, to destroy any chance of your wedding if anyone were to find out.

"Yes," you gasped as his fingers hooked into you one last time before leaving your body. You hardly had any time to miss them until you felt the brush of something solid push against your walls. You reached your arms around his neck, in awe at the way his hair still remained gelled back except for the one perfect curl in front of his face.

He cooed softly at you as you tensed, his cock delving deeper into you, splitting you apart, and for a brief moment you wondered if love was a form of murder. He paused, peppering kisses across your face before continuing until you felt his balls slapping against your folds. You laid there for a moment, before you felt him slowly rock back and forth on top of you, creating a steady rhythm. More moans escaped your lips as you curled your legs around his waist, the white of your dress pooling around your stomach.

His pace grew faster as he watched your bare breasts bounce on your chest, his eyes transfixed on your body.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. You could feel the heat on your cheeks from his words.

"Y... You're just saying that," you replied.

"No," he said. His thrusts hadn't paused for even a moment as he stared, transfixed, "I think you're the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen."

"I bet you say that to all the girls whose windows you crawl into," you smirked, suddenly bold as you circled your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you.

He scoffed, "Just you," he murmured something else you couldn't quite catch, but you didn't worry on it as you felt something in the pit of your stomach, a tightening as though you were you being pushed off an edge.

"Please," was all you could say, pathetically as you let out another moan. As if understanding, he continuing his thrusting, his hand reaching down to touch and prod at you before they landed on a delicate little pearl and began to swirl. You let out a near scream at this, though he remained undeterred as he continued his work, his eyes still on you as you squeezed around his cock, cumming and producing more slick as his continued his thrusts.

He bit his lip before his hands moved to grab your hips, squeezing gently as he pumped into you rapidly, your sore legs bouncing, and your thighs jiggled at his thrusts until suddenly he sank impossibly deep into you and stilled his hips.

You peeked up in confusion, until you felt the sensation of warm liquid pooling into your cunt. A sensation of fullness until he pulled his cock out and you could feel the liquid dribble down your aching thighs. Now, as he stood tall, you had a moment to appreciate the muscles across his expansive chest, as well as the tuft of hair below his navel that led to his still erect member.

The sight caused you to clench, and ashamedly you felt his cum drip down your thighs again.

“I…” You were unsure of what to say as you sat up, and noted bits of blood in your bedsheets along with his semen. The sight caused a hitch in your breath as you finally processed what you had done.

As if in understanding, the Superman came close and cradled you in his arms as silent tears trailed down your face. “It’s okay,” he said. “We didn’t do anything wrong. What we did was special,” he concluded. His fingers moved to wipe away your tears, and you marvelled at their softness realizing despite his heavy labour as a hero, the softness of his skin would never change.

“Special?” You scoffed. “I’ve doomed myself… My wedding night… He’ll know, mama always said men will know and I have to stay pure…”

“Trust me when I say it won’t matter,” he said. At the unsure look in your eyes, he continued. “Please,” he begged. Despite your mother’s words, despite your teachings, you felt as though you could trust him in that moment. After all, he was a hero, wasn’t he?

Before you could respond however, you heard the opening of your house’s door downstairs and your mother’s faint voice asking if you were home. Before you could even panic, you felt a bright flash and a sudden lurching of your figure.

You now stood fully dressed, facing your bed which had fresh sheets you recognized from your closet.

The Superman was nowhere to found, but the soreness and slickness between your thighs was ever present.

#kirietownwrites #clark kent x reader #superman x reader #dc x reader #superman fanfiction #superman fanfic #clark kent fanfiction

383 notes · View notes

quietplace26 · 5 months ago

Text

Another SAGAU au idea, but this time mixed with SAHSRAU?

I'm basing this idea off this post (the creator is called @suiana. give them love!) where the MC lands in Honkai: Star Rail and every character, besides the Trailblazer, Pom-Pom, and the Aeons, hates them.

Warnings: Cringe worthy content. OCness from the characters. HSR characters (minus Trailblazer and Aeons) calling MC an 'it'.

Notes: This is mostly crack, so don't take it seriously. I only included certain characters that I felt comfortable with since I'm not good with keeping characters in character. So, if you want, please send me any suggestions about shenanigans the Genshin crew and MC could get mixed up with while trying to get back to Teyvat, or just how they would interact with the HSR crew.

Basically, the MC is stressed beyond belief. Besides Trailblazer, Pom-Pom, and the Aeons, everyone MC once admired in Honkai: Star Rail, hates them, calls them an it, tries to hurt them, and even tried to KILL them on many occasions.

And when everything becomes too much, they kind of break down? Maybe wishing they landed in Genshin Impact instead.

Then because of Aeon shittery, as the MC is their darling and want them to be happy, MC's wish is granted... and the next moment, characters from Genshin Impact start appearing on the Express... and they all know the Reader!

Reader is quickly surrounded by worried Archons and vision holders, and their chosen Traveler was hugging them, saying they were worried as your presence just disappeared!

Needless to say, the Astral Express becomes more crowded, and you gained a whole bunch of bodyguards that weren't afraid to throw someone down for your honor and safety.

One thing I think would be hilarious if Nahida met Dr. Ratio. He's like all, 'I'm above you or something', because one, she's a 'child', and second, she was with that... thing (the MC).

But then Nahida just tears him down with a sweet smile and quick wit... and then he finds out this 'child' was actually a Goddess of Wisdom.

And speaking of children, the child vision holders become absolute menaces to the HSR characters.

The MC had to on many occasions stop Aha or one of the more chaotic Aeons from blessing the Genshin children.

Especially Klee.

MC and Jean: "Klee where did you get that bomb?!"

Klee: "Masky gave it to me!"

MC: "AHA!"

Klee is definitely Aha's favorite of Teyvatians. She's just so naturally chaotic it brings them joy!

The Aeons as a whole find the Teyvatians to be... interesting, but this could probably be because the MC was very fond of them, so of course the Aeons would be interested as well.

Did the Archons count as Teyvat's Aeons? The Sovereigns? Maybe?

If Long somehow pops in, alive, jump scaring the Vidyadharas, and just zeros in on Zhongli and Neuvillette.

Long's like, dragons? But not mine, not Vidyadhara? There's more like you two (Zhongli and Neuvillette).

And then MC's telling Long all about Dvalin, Azhdaha, Apep, Mini Durin, Ajaw, and goodness knows, all about Natlan's adorable and amazing Saurian population.

Long would also probably find the Melusines fascinating as well because they were born from the blood of the dragon Elynas. And there's 48 of them???

Childe would definitely pick a fight with an Aeon, only for either the Traveler or the MC to grab his ear and pull him away.

Yae Miko would go about trolling the Foxians and spending time with the MC via asking them to help her go over potential new novel ideas. Because this whole experience would no doubt make the best novel to hit Teyvat.

Ei would be like MC's protector like the others but would help them relax via teaching meditation... and if one of the HSR characters butt in, they're in for a nasty shock to the ass.

Zhongli and Neuvillette casually dunking on Dan Heng and the other Vidyadhara, both of which are in awe and slight terror as these true dragons...

...who only spends time with it (the MC) of all things!

Zhongli, for shits and giggles, shifts into a tiny, chunky form of his Exuvia form, his Chonkli form if you will, and lets MC cuddle and smother him with affection all the while Dan Heng and the Vidyadhara are watching in disbelief.

Like this man was like an elder Vidyadhara, a TRUE dragon... and he was waddling around in a tiny, chubby undignified form, and lays on its (MC's) lap like a common house cat!

Zhongli only innocently bleeps his tongue at them before making biscuits on MC's lap and curls up to for some cuddles.

Neuvillette immediately joins in so not to be out done by the Geo Archon, but his form is rather large, so he tends to squish the MC but they only giggle and return the cuddles.

He's so big and long that he scares most of the Honkai characters away while MC naps with him.

If MC starts feeling nervous or scared, Furina dramatically swoops in to steal MC away, drawing their attention by retelling a story of one her many plays as she helps MC with their hair or clothes, maybe even pulling them into a small performance with her Hydro familiar's while Neuvillette stands guard.

Wriothesly helps with MC's self-defense after they admit about feeling scared whenever the Trailblazer, he, or the Aeons aren't around. And considering how the most of the HSR crew treats you... he becomes MC's self-defense coach.

Though afterwards he always asks you to join him for some tea, which usually leads to Neuvillette or others always inviting themselves to join.

When the Genshin crew gets to know the Trailblazer some of them make a connection that they reminded them of the Traveler... A bit of a more feral and raccoon like Traveler.

And since they were kind to MC, protecting them when no one else on the Express was willing to, the Trailblazer was automatically granted access to any of the nations of Teyvat if they wished to visit once the Teyvatians made it home.

Except for the Trailblazer, no one else from the Astral Express was given this permission. In fact, any special guilds, explorers, Stellaron Hunters, and especially the ICP was banned from setting one foot in Teyvat.

Nanook and a few other Aeons made sure to emphasize on this... after setting an example with the first few foolish ones that tried to force their way in.

And that's how Teyvat quickly becomes something like vacation spot for the Aeons whenever any of them wanted to visit MC.

#genshin impact #honkai star rail #sagau #sahsrau #genshin impact x reader #honkai star rail x reader #crossover #this is a mess #my genshin content

453 notes · View notes

pyxxiestyxx · 4 months ago

Text

Paw

"Come on now, love. Give Miss Magias paw!"

I stared at the pale imitation of a Terran's hand before me; it was massive compared to mine, but she had clearly added an additional thumb on the other side, creating a strangely symmetrical shape that would be beautiful...if it weren't being used to mock me.

I glared at her instead of complying, crossing my arms firmly to hide my hands away. This was not the kind of treatment I had asked for at the Domestication Centre, after all. I had been expressly clear that I wanted an affini who treated me with respect and courtesy, and who wasn’t going to treat me like I was some dumb animal. I had a Doctorate in Microbiology, for starssake!

“I’m not doing that Canea,” I said in my most even-toned voice, the kind reserved for colleagues who didn’t yet know they were incorrect. “I don’t even have a paw to give. I am more than willing to shake your hand, as is customary for many Terrans. Did you perhaps get my species confused with the Rinans?”

At that she couldn’t help but clutch her belly and laugh, a rumbling that felt like it was shaking me apart from such close proximity. She wiped a nonexistent tear from one of her several eyes and replied, “Oh, Everbloom no, silly. I do know exactly what you are, you have my word.”

There were a few moments of silence before it was clear she wasn’t going to continue, so I made the next move (albeit with a short sigh of frustration).

“Right, perhaps we should start over. My name is Doctor Caleb Davenport, and I am-”

The affini interrupted me with a wave of her hand. “Sweetie, I already know those old details, just as I’m sure you looked into mine as soon as you were given my name by the nice receptionist lady.”

I had, of course; Canea Magias, Ninth Bloom, pronouns of she/her. Has two florets already, both terrans, both so far off the deep end of pethood that the mere sight of them had my skin crawling. She was on the shorter end for an affini, but exceedingly curvaceous, to match her lackadaisical and bubbly personality.

A personality which grated harshly on my nerves.

If ever a mismatch could be, this certainly was. I was looking for an elegant, dignified affini, the kind who enjoyed a good book and some social discussion on the intricacies of xenobacteria, not…not…puppy play.

I sighed again, lifting my glasses and rubbing the bridge of my nose. “Yes, I did. Hence why I reiterate: clearly there was some kind of mix-up. The floret-to-be you were supposed to be assigned is probably in one of the other rooms, and my affini is probably with her, wondering how she is supposed to have a debate with someone who can’t stop putting her fingers in her mouth. So, if you’ll excuse me…”

I stepped to the side to try and get around her and leave the room, but she matched mine with her own. Her smile widened as she produced a stack of familiar-looking papers. “Oh, I’m quite certain I am right where I need to be, just as you are. I even have your intake questionnaire, which you so kindly filled out this morning. Everything I read tells me that we were perfectly matched~ We’re going to be one big family, with plenty of playtime and delicious treats!”

I snatched the offered papers from her grasp, checking to make sure my answers hadn’t been tampered with.

That my words remained unchanged was when I began to worry.

I jabbed my finger at the third page as I retorted, “That’s ridiculous. Look, this question plainly asks ‘How do you spend your day?’”

“It does, yes.”

“And my answer was, ‘I prefer a standard 0500-1700 workday spent on my projects. Upon arriving home, I will do some light research while eating a meal.’” I held the page up for her to see, tapping it again for good measure. “This is what I enjoy. Not ‘playtime’ or ‘treats’.”

Canea smirked, rolling her eyes in a way that was extremely disconcerting. “Are you sure that’s what it says, dear? And before you protest, I’m not speaking of the literal characters or words they form. I’m talking about the intent. When I looked at the meaning and purpose behind all the pages and pages of posturing, all I read, over and over and over, was ‘I'm terrified of losing control, even if it is perfect for me. I don’t know how to manage my time. I’m packing my life full of tasks so I don’t think about the things tugging at the depths of my mind. I need Miss Magias's help.”

“I…that’s preposterous,” I sputtered angrily. “I am a Doctor, not some invalid. I would know if I needed to deal with anything, and I would handle it like an adult.”

“Even now your words whimper one thing, but your intent screams another, petal.” She sauntered towards me slowly, giving me ample time to scramble backwards before she could reach me. The problem, of course, was that the room was finite in its dimensions, and all too soon I reached the far wall. I eyed her warily, watching as she continued to slowly advance.

Step. “You are many things, my dear. A Doctor, a problem solver, a polyglot. But do you know what else you are?”

“What?”

Step. “My floret. You signed the paperwork already, love. And according to point two of the contract, that means I own you. I can rip that Doctorate from you as easily as I can drug you, if that is what is needed for you to be your best self. I will change your name, to better match the precious girl you are hiding deep inside. And if I say my pet has paws, then she has paws.”

“I…but-”

Step. “You are my property, love. And as the very first point in the contract said, you must obey me in all things. Not ‘some of the time’. Not ‘when you feel like it’. All. Things.”

Step. She towered over me now, enough to send a cold line of fluttering fear down my back. She hadn’t changed form, hadn’t grown, but her presence alone had pinned me to the wall and choked off any attempt to disagree.

“Now then, pet. I am going to ask one more time. Paw.” Her hand was palm-up once more, though far lower than where it had been before, near my chest. In fact, it was almost brushing the floor, as if-

I yelped as Canea wrapped a vine around the back of my knees and tugged, pulling me down to all fours before I had a chance to think. I opened my mouth to protest, but a series of vines wove around my jaw and head into a starsforsaken muzzle.

And yet, she didn’t speak. Instead she stared me down, the intensity of her gaze drilling into my defiance...and eventually forcing me to look away.

After a few long moments of silence, I slowly lifted my hand and shakily placed it in her grasp.

“Good Girl~”

#human domestication guide #hdg #microfiction

490 notes · View notes

mirathescientist · 1 year ago

Text

Pairings: connie x black reader

Warnings: smut 18+ Connie's a lil toxic, mentions of a gun, pretty angsty

pt.2 to birthday girl but can be read as a standalone

Miss you

Constance Springer. The man who was once the source of your happiness though recently the source of your frustration and headaches.

“I just don't get it, Con. You take me on these amazing dates, buy me anything that catches my attention, and say you wanna spend the rest of your life with me, yet when I ask to publicly announce we’re together, which I shouldn't have to, you always brush it aside.” You spoke as calmly as possible. Though considering this was the 4th time this week you were having this conversation your calm tone resembled shouting.

It had been five months since your birthday. Five months since Connie gave you the best gift you could ever think of. Himself.

The first four months felt as if you were on cloud nine. The entire duration it was as if you were conjoined at the hip. Connie had to make a couple of drops? There you were in his passenger seat watching a movie or using his card to pay for the large quantity of your cart.

You needed to go make up a missed exam? Connie was waiting in his car with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The only time you weren't seen together was if he was doing something he didn't want you involved in or if he was out buying you secret lavish gifts such as the car he got you a week after your birthday. Life was great.

It wasn't til you were at your nail appointment with Mika where she nearly cut you with her clippers from shock the moment you brought up your relationship with Connie, that you realized no one knew about it.

At first, you were confused. How could no one know? You were always together but the more you thought about it you started to understand. Whenever you were out he wasn't as affectionate as when it was just the two of you, just a few touches that could easily be considered friendly, but you just brushed it off as him not being comfortable with PDA.

Even when you went on dates he'd buy the entire venue or restaurant out so it'd be just you two or would plan the nicest dates at the house, either way, no one saw you on dates as a couple.

You thought about it for a while before it finally ate you up and you just had to ask. His response was the reason shit went left.

“Whatchu mean let people know we’re together? Ion want people in our business. I'm yours and you're mine, that's all that matters” He brushed it off with a kiss on your forehead before running to go get some eggs around the corner. He was only gone for ten minutes yet in that time frame you went through hundreds of different reasons as to why he responded that way.

At first, you were confused. Then, you were trying to reassure yourself he's right as long as we know then we straight. But immediately after that thought came anger why the fuck doesn't he want people to know? Am I the fuckin side chick?

By the time Connie came back you were fuming. You trusted Connie, the night he asked you to be his he promised you he'd never do anything to hurt you yet you couldn't deny how suspicious this was. He barely had time to lock the door behind him before you started with your questions.

“You cheating on me Constance?”

“What?” He almost gave himself whiplash with how fast he turned, looking at you as if you had said the stupidest shit ever which in his mind you did.

“You heard me. Are you cheating?” You followed him into the kitchen of his apartment.

“No [☆] I'm not cheating. I needa take you to the ER? Cause it sounds like you hit your head while I was gone”

“Then why don't you wanna tell anyone?”

“About us?”

“Duh”

“I already told you, mami, I don't want people all up in our business”

That was two weeks ago and you guys were nowhere near in a better place. By no means were you insecure. You knew Connie loved you and only you but you wanted others to know as well. It's not like you wanted to leak one of your many sex tapes on IG. You just wanted at least your friend group to know you were together. Connie wasn't having it though.

“Mama lower your tone” He groaned. Inked hands rubbing his face from frustration.

“Just tell me, Con. Why don't you want anyone to know?”

“Is it wrong to wanna keep our relationship private? I love you princess but you buggin’ for real. Drop it”

“You know what. Fuck this, nd fuck you too. There's a big fucking difference between private and secret.” You slammed his bedroom door. This was too much. You couldn't take it anymore; it was as if he was ashamed of you. You loved Connie, you really, really loved him but this hurt, the constant drop of your heart whenever he let go of your hand the moment you stepped out of his apartment complex or whenever a girl flirted with him in front of the group but there was nothing you could do. You were done. No amount of love could make you settle for anything less than you knew you deserved.

Despite your teary eyes you managed to pull yourself together. Grabbing your bag, you packed as much as possible before finally exiting the room.

Connie was in the middle of rolling a blunt when he saw you walk out, he would have been convinced that his heart was lying on the couch when he stood up if it wasn't for the loud thumping in his ears.

“Where are you going?” He stood in your way

“Connie please move” You sniffled

“No, not until you tell me where you're going. Please [☆] lo siento, mami, por favor, no te vayas please don't go” His voice cracked as reality hit him. Dropping to his knees, his hands gripped the soft flesh of your hips.

“I promise to be better, I promise. I will call everyone on my phone and tell them about us right now, please don't go” At this point, you had to look away. His tear-stricken face and Spanish almost had you fold.

“We'll work this out ma, estaré mejor, lo prometo I'll be better, I promise”

“No, we can't Connie. Not right now” And with that, you left.

A month had passed so far. It was rough in the beginning. He blew your phone up 24/7 to the point where you had to block him. You couldn't eat, and whenever you did have the energy to stay awake you did nothing but scroll on your phone, your thumb always finding the photo album where you stored all pictures of Connie.

Sasha and Mikasa finally had enough, while Mika was the only one you told Sasha had a pretty good idea after she went to visit Connie only to find him in the same state as you, maybe even worse. Deciding you needed to leave the walls of your apartment and have fun, they finally convinced you to go out. Taking a couple of pregame shots while shaking ass in the mirror, your outfit leaving nothing to the imagination as you finally felt ready to face reality.

By the time you had arrived at the party, the drinks started to kick in and you grabbed the first sexy guy you saw and dragged him to the dance floor.

Unknown to you Connie was also at the party, standing in the corner as he made a few deals. He looked tired, and he was. The moment the door closed behind you he broke down. Ignoring all of the calls and texts he got from clients as he sat there. He was angry. Angry at you for leaving him but mostly angry at himself for fucking up.

When Connie finally caught sight of you it was as if someone had finally flipped the switch on throughout his body. His heart sped up, his posture straightened and his dick twitched at the sight of your body in the dress.

His dick wasn't the only thing twitching. When it finally registered to Connie that you were letting some random guy touch you as you whined on him, his eye twitched and his hand immediately went to his gun.

He was furious. With zero fucks he approached you, the barrel of his gun pressed against the guy who you were currently throwing it back on.

When you no longer felt the swaying of the man behind you, you turned to be met with the fear-frozen stranger and Connie whispering something in his ear. You didn't have time to ask what was going on before the guy scurried off and Connie roughly grabbed your arm, dragging you out of the house party.

Despite the fact you were no longer together and he had no right to drag you away, you stayed quiet. Connie rarely got angry but when he did you knew it was best to just stay quiet.

“Get in the fucking car [☆]” He threw open the door. You were convinced the thong you had on was completely drenched after those six words. His voice was low and threatening and you almost felt disgusting from how turned on you were. Almost. With one look into his rage-filled eyes, you got in the car, the door slamming behind you when he was sure you were safely in.

He quickly got in, tire tracks marking the ground as he sped off. It was silent for a minute before you decided to speak, once his grip on the steering wheel loosened and the color returned to his knuckles.

“Connie?” You faced him, eyes burning into the side of his head as he kept his dark stare on the road.

“Connie, come on. You can't just kidnap me and then not speak. Pull over and talk to me now” You huffed.

With a roll of his eyes, he pulled into a deserted parking lot.

“Hello? Either you get to talking or I'm getting out nd calling an Uber”

“No the fuck you're not” He groaned loudly, eyes meeting yours.

“Then talk” You borderline yelled

If Connie's hair was long enough to grip he'd have a couple bald spots from how frustrated he was. He gave you both time to cool down before he spoke.

“Look I'm sorry for dragging you away, and for threatening your lil boyfriend-”

“He's not my boyfriend”

“He's not?”

“No. Continue your apology” You rolled your eyes.

Your response had a smirk forming on his face. He missed you so much, even your attitude.

“I missed you ma. I'm sorry for dragging you away. I'm also sorry for how things ended.” He grabbed your hand.

“I now understand your feelings and your concerns and I'm sorry I ever made you feel like I was ashamed of you or if there was another woman. You're the love of my life ma, this past month has been pure hell. I need you baby. Please take me back.” His hands were shaking as they held yours securely. It was rare to see Connie cry, and the sight of his tear-streaked face made your heart ache. He really did love you.

Swallowing the lump in your throat you asked the one question that started it all.

“Be real Con. Why didn't you want anyone to know?”

With a sigh, he rubbed his facial hair.

“I was afraid you'd realize you could do better”

“What? What made you think that Con?”

“I sell drugs for a living, mami, I'm involved with a shit ton of dangerous people. I was afraid when others found out they'd start telling you things about me and you'd realize you can do so much better”

“Oh, Connie” You could no longer resist the need to be close to him. Maneuvering yourself so you sat in his lap you cupped his face as your eyes searched his.

“Papa there is no one better. I love you so much, Connie. There is nothing anyone could ever say to make me want or love you less because I know you. I know how much you care and love those around you. There is no one better, Connie.”

For some time, the two of you were wrapped in each other's arms as you faced your emotions.

When you both were calm, you finally dared to look into his eyes. The energy shift resembling the one from your birthday.

“Con” You slowly inched your face closer to his

“I'm sorry for all the hurt I put us through mami” His hand wrapped around your neck

“Déjame compensarte let me make it up to you” He closed the space between you.

It felt like the first breath taken after being underwater for a long time. You felt alive, felt loved. The once slow kiss grew into something more passionate. Both of you needy, as you fiend for dominance in the heated exchange.

Ultimately you lost the battle when his hands gripped your hips tightly as if to assure himself you weren't leaving again. It wasn't soon after that you found yourself in the back of his car with your legs resting on his shoulder as he drilled into you.

He littered kisses on your ankle as his grip on your hips tightened. His thick cock stretching you out had your eyes rolling back and moans of ecstasy coming out of your agape mouth.

“Yeah? You doing so good fa me ma. You miss this? Miss how good I fuck you?” His thumb found its way to your clit.

“Fuck, Connie” You whined. Attempting to push his hand away from the sensitive bud.

“Answer me princesa or ima stop” He warned

“Yes, Connie- mhmph I miss it so bad papi oh my god” Your velvety walls squeezed him tight.

"Fuuuck. Don't ever leave me again, you hear me? I can't take it, baby, I love you too much. T-try that shit again nd Imma make you watch while I put a bullet in between his eyes. Understand?” His pace increased.

God that shouldn't have turned you on as much as it did. You were convinced you could have come on the spot, the added pressure on your carotids when you didn't answer immediately wasn't any help.

“Y-yes Con, I promise it won't happen again” You managed to say in between the moans and whimpers that you no longer had the energy to contain.

“Keep squeezing me, mami. I'm so fuckin close” He groaned, hand no longer on your neck as it rested against the steamy windows to stable himself.

The atmosphere of the car was pure filth. Your moans bounced off the windows, the sloshing sound of your wet pussy and slapping skin that created the creamy ring around the base of cock topping it all off.

His thrusts were slowly getting sloppy, you were just squeezing him so tight.

“C-Con” You managed to gasp out, the marks he littered on your neck to suppress his whimpers, having the coil in your belly tighten.

“I know mama, let go fa me” He groaned.

That instant you came, eyes rolling to the back of your head for a quick second as your cream and small spurts of squirt leaked from your pussy.

“Shit mama” He panted, dick twitching as he painted your walls with his cum.

Connie being the lover boy he was despite repeatedly denying it whispered apologies, and sweet promises into your ear as you came down from your high.

“I'm sorry mami, I promise to be better” He kissed you softly as if you were in a fairytale before whispering in your ear.

“But don't think just cus we're good now, that I'm not gon tear that ass up when we get home for giving that loser a taste of what's mine.”

I dont know how i feel about this one buuutttt all thanks to @masterofthepp for giving me this idea. Hopefully it meets your standards babes. As always any feedback is welcome. mwah

2K notes · View notes

therobotsarestuckinmyhead · 2 months ago

Note

One shot IDW Megatron x Reader where they are a medic back in the mines before the war happens and some way some how they meet again at the Lost Light, pls?

♡ "KNOWING YOUR PAST" — Megatron [IDW]

im not sure if i have written the very well but i tried my best! i love IDW megs so i get nervous when writing him. i literally love him so much its not even funny-

scenario: a medic and ex-warlord thrown into a room because the captain sensed tension. cue awkward catching up.

setting: aboard the Lost Light, Rodimus locked you in a room with your ex-crush

Being on the Lost Light after Megatron opted to make the war shattering decision to become an Autobot, he's been retrospecting. Especially with the time he's had on the ship. While most of the crew weren't exactly friendly with him, he wouldn't really blame them. If someone started a war which killed off most of everyone you know and ruined your entire planet and Megatron had to share a ship with that individual? He wouldn't be pleased either.

But Megatron is learning. Empathy, introspection. It's a “journey to find himself”, just like how that Deadlock, now known as Drift put it.

Back then, he never really bothered to retrospect. His ego claimed he was far too high for such a thing but now, the weight of his actions have been crushing him with unmistakable and unspeakable regret. That much is true. And so, it's almost like he hesitates to think of the past. Not that he doesn't want to retrospect— It's a part of growth, he's come to recognize that.

But then… there's you.

And by Primus, does he want to avoid you…

He has been. Wonderfully. So far at least. And you seem to understand that, walking away from his general direction the moment he's in your periphery. You're pretty much avoiding him too. Quite simple to do given how he's dark and brooding, you definitely don't seem to be interested in mingling with those types. Or really, anyone at all. You are quiet here. Almost as forgettable as Rung to the others. But of course, not to Megatron.

You're like a relic from his past in every sense. You were there from the start as a miner, then briefly as a medic in the gladiatorial pits of Kaon, then a short while in service of the Decepticons as a field medic before becoming a neutral and then shifting to a full time Autobot Medical Officer. It's quite the story— you've seen him from every perspective and watched him grow from every angle. A quiet observer. And somehow, he's managed to encounter you every single time when you're in a new phase of your life— He doesn't understand how. It's like the universe was playing some sparkdamn prank on him. You've managed to encounter him enough times to know him well enough.

Yet he doesn't know a single thing about you.

And so, it is painfully awkward to be here with you, again. It's like the two of you were destined to meet only ever in the most awkward pretense possible and Megatron would've wanted to personally crush Rodimus’ helm open for that had he been his younger, ruthless self but he keeps telling himself that he's a better mech now. He isn't sure how many “I'm a better bot now” he has left in him as the you and him are now stuck in this room together. Rodimus said something about the ‘awkward tension’ between the two of you creating ‘disharmony in the balance and the crew dynamic’ but before Megatron could ask what fragging balance the speedster was yapping on about, he was promptly thrown into this room with you. He suspects Rodimus somehow brought either Ultra Magnus or Fortress Maximus onboard with this idea and that baffles him.

He knows you probably feel the same way the rest of the crew feels, the silence between the two of you is deafening. Megatron’s black digits gently tap the surface of the seat he's sitting on while you seem to be busy fidgeting with your own digits, looking down away from him, as if you were dragged in here against your will as well. He empathises with you.

The bench you two sit on is connected to the wall. Megatron looks down at your seated figure, almost coy. But it's the sheer awkwardness of this situation that's weighing on him. You… really haven't changed a bit from your time at the mines. He can almost remember it fondly.

You were a young miner like him but fortunate enough to stumble upon thrown away medical datapads, using them to train yourself to be an unofficial medic of sorts. It's not like you could afford to take the license to be an official medical practitioner but it was admirable nonetheless; working double shifts but still teaching yourself the fundamentals of Cybertronian anatomy— especially for frames of the lower classes like the two of you were. Perhaps it was your determination he admired or maybe your kindness— you were willing to use what you learnt to help others down there, including himself. Even gave him pointers, enough to take care of minor injuries by himself and he did always want to be a medic.

Primus, the way he used to look at you back then. It's embarrassing, Megatron's opinion. The two of you are much, much older than then now so it's not like those feelings linger. You probably didn't even know his designation was back then, too awkward to say anything to you and he remembers how spark-crushing it felt when you first addressed him as ‘Impactor's friend’.

Don't even get him started on the embarrassing amount of poetry—

“You… You still into poetry?” You ask and in turn break the suffocating silence, finding the strength to look up at him despite the sheer awkwardness from this entire confrontation. You probably expected to spend more time at the medbay with Ratchet instead of being cooped up in a room with the ex-Warlord himself. It seems you're still kind & generous, generous enough to spare him from having to think of something to say. Megatron shifts in his seat uncomfortably, your Tarnian accent, the informality of it, it reminds him of the mines; it's nostalgic in a way.

“You… know of my poetry?” He replies, somewhat surprised you'd remember. But keeping his composure. Megatron didn't really share any of his works to his fellow miners, only ever publishing them under his pen-name. You just blink at him confused, you backstruts straightening a little as you sit with proper posture, almost as if you're alert.

“Of course, I do! Remember when you got off that rocket fuel Impactor smuggled and—”

“Please. Do not. Don't… Don't remind me of that.” The moment you mentioned rocket fuel and Impactor smuggling, the memory hit him like a flash bang. His tone is quiet, not dangerously quiet but the sort of quiet you have when your mother embarrasses you in front of her friends. Megatron felt oddly.. small at that moment, in a way he's never felt. You still remember that!? Oh Primus. It's nostalgic but it wasn't one of his proudest moments. Drunk off his aft from cheap smuggled fuel and proceeded to recite poetry to a small audience, he must've been too intoxicated to realize you were there that day.

Megatron fails to realize that he's accidentally shut down your attempt at conversation and you go quiet. Looking back down at your servos, you're back to fidgeting your digits.

More awkward silence ensues.

Every astrocycle feels like vorns.

Megatron sighs. It's his turn. He needs to get a grip of himself. He's cold and calculative but it seems he can't control what he feels as if he's some sparkdamn newly-built fresh off the assembly. He takes in a vent, just to prepare himself. Conversation has never felt so frustrating before.

Megatron feels nothing for you. He knows that. It's been eons since he's seen you the last time, the way your frame looks slightly worn is proof of that. To be blunt, the two of you are relics of the past. Whatever happened in those mines, stays in those mines was what he always told himself. But that might not be what you tell yourself. Megatron has to remind himself of that, the nostalgia weighs in on his old spark— He feels younger somehow, sitting next to you. Too conscious about himself to really say a word to you despite his subtle interest you were oblivious to.

“Did you.. like my poetry?” He asks, his optics slowly moving to look over at you. Megatron's helm unmoving as his servos are crossed over his chassis, he looks as disinterested as ever despite his internal conflict on what to say. A naturally cold face which took a lot of effort for him to keep.

“Well…” You take a moment to recall his drunken words. “I think an opinion would've been possible if you weren't slurring over your words.” You smile a bit, it's a fond smile. You don't seem to have the same… sadness Megatron has when recalling the mines.

“Hm. Shame I don't have the original copy then.” He mumbles out, trying not to feel anything from that smile. No. No, you deserve so much better than him. You were just a silly crush to him, nothing more. Most of his poetry was unfortunately destroyed by the functionists after his relocation to Messatine.

Megatron remembers so well— How your rough digits would fix his faceplates with such soft gentleness that only a lover could replicate or how your servos would tenderly hold onto his dislocated stabilizing servo after a cave in, before the sharp pain shooting up his frame when you give it a rough but precise yank. You've saved his life more times than he can count, really.

“What was I even reciting about? It's astonishing how you can even remember that.” He asks, filling in the silence. His helm turned over to look at as you hum, trying to recall.

“Something about a lover's caress and sparks that heal.” You say as you think. His frame stiffens and goes thankfully unnoticed by you.

Megatron wrote that one about you.

“Ah. Well.. hm.. That wasn't my proudest work.” He says, taking a sharp in-vent before he hums, almost flustered. Almost. The stone-faced facade was easy to keep up, years after commanding a war made it appear natural.

“Oh, I thought it was beautiful. Really… spark touching.” You reassure and it somehow makes the odd flustered-ness arise in his spark, it's foreign. He hasn't felt this way in millennia. Your response is earnest but you seem to struggle to find the exact words, much like himself. A relief. It's not just him that's struggling with Rodimus’ idiocy. “Even if you were slurring them out. I just wish more of it was actually intelligible.” You add on.

“At least it wasn't as embarrassing as I thought it must've been.” Megatron mumbles as he leans against the wall with a sigh. He remembers when Impactor told him what happened, Megatron never put his servos on rocket fuel ever again.

“Do you still write?” You ask, looking at him with curiosity. Refusing to allow the awkward silence creep into the conversation again.

“Last time I wrote something, it triggered a civil war.” Megatron's gruff voice sounds somewhat tired— He loved writing. Megatron managed to write a few poems here and there as a gladiator even but once the war started, he had almost no time at all for his forgotten hobby. Four million years out of practice until recently.

You just laugh a bit at his dry humor.

“I meant poetry, not philosophy or politics.”

Megatron pauses for a moment. He did have some poems. Considering has quite literally no one to converse with on this ship means he has his free time despite his co-captainly duties.

“Well,” He starts off with a somewhat softer tone. “I have been.. practicing as of late. A lot more free time than I'm accustomed to.” He admits, Megatron is really not used to having nothing to do— which is both relieving and frustrating. Megatron has so many questions to ask you but he doesn't know how to. How did you end up being a medic at the gladiatorial pits he was in? Why did you become a Decepticon? Why did you become neutral for a short while? What turned you to the Autobots?

“Yes, that's a good way to keep yourself occupied. I usually just… sculpt things.”

Oh. You sculpt? Megatron didn't know that. He's going to take a mental note of that. His helm turns towards you, crimson optics narrowing curiously at you. There's so much he doesn't know.

“You sculpt?”

You nod. “Yes, I wanted to be a sculptor. I like making things.” You add on. You're quiet and well-mannered. Probably because the two of you are much older now, of course you'd be more mature. At least it makes it easier for him to converse with you. Megatron finds an odd sense of irony in your words.

“Hm. I wanted to be a medic.” Megatron mutters out, looking at your face sends a rush of somber nostalgia.

“I remember. You told me when I was fixing your face after–”

“The cave-in at sector Delta 12.” Megatron finishes your sentence, he didn't mean to interrupt but you just seemed to remember everything. It surprises him. You gave him some pointers on how to fix himself after that incident. That was the first time he met you, Impactor said he knew someone that could give Megatron a quick fix— Megatron didn't really have the financial situation to pay for any of the medics, not to mention how atrocious their prices were so he hesitantly agreed.

“How do you remember all of that?” Megatron asks with a surprising amount of sincerity. You keep digging up old memories the war had washed away with its tides, memories beneath layers of sand.

“Hm. I'm actually not sure. I just do.” You shrug. Perhaps this was a reminder as to how far from his path he had deviated, to a point where even the fonder memories he had as a miner were buried. They were surviving under the Senate but not living, so the younger Megatron threw away all he knew from the mines. Everything other than hate and anger.

“I suppose my memories of you stuck with me because I… uhm…” He notices your hesitance and quirks up an optical ridge, you're struggling to find the words just like him. There is a subtle heat from your faceplates as you're sitting there.

“I had a liking of sorts.. towards you.”

For a moment, Megatron’s world stopped spinning and his crimson optics widened a bit— Had he been that young miner from Tarn, he would have rejoiced on the inside and been a clueless mess on the outside. Maybe even wrote a poem about it when he got to his excuse of a living space.

“You.. You did?” Megatron is not sure what else to ask.

You once again nod but slower, almost like you're embarrassed. It's sort of hilarious to think about, a four million year old delayed confession.

“I'd rather not talk about it but I liked how soft-spoken and polite you were. Smart and real poetic. I thought that was attractive.” Your admission might've made him smile a bit. A bit.

The universe has a strange sense of humor. That was the only conclusion Megatron could draw because his spark was back to its fluttering like it used to when he saw you back then and he had to physically stop himself from thinking about punching his chassis to make it stop.

He still barely knew you.

Megatron is not a young miner anymore.

But again, Primus knows how long Rodimus intends to keep the two of you here.

Ah. To the Pit with it. He's getting the chance he never got back then. Might as well use it to get to know you better. You don't seem to be as hesitant as conversing with him as compared to the rest.

awkward moments with an ex-warlord because your captain wants to drive Megs insane

325 notes · View notes

bunni-v1 · 4 months ago

Note

College au Ifa is the type to take you at a house party and make sure people see the hickey on ur neck in class the next day

Marking Your Territory

🍓I'm gonna kill Pinkie for this one that's all I'll say on that. I lost actual sleep writing this, and instead of napping I finished and edited it. Do not tell me I don't love you guys or Ifa because I am nothing if not dedicated to my gay little craft. Anyway, enjoy or this will be the last thing I ever post. If this flops it's on your hands that I disappear.

TW: NSFW; Drugs (mentioned); Alcohol use; slight dub-con (both are lightly buzzed); marking (lots of it); sex at a party (yippie!); grammar errors (edited but I'm one guy and this is seven thousand words)

Info: College AU; Ifa x Reader (main); Venti x Reader; Kazuha x Reader; Navia x Reader; Wriothesley x Reader; Alhaitham x Reader; Kaveh x Reader (all background ships)

Word Count: 7.6k Words

MDNI

You weren't the biggest fan of house parties, not for lack of trying. Navia had dragged you to a million places since you arrived at Sumeru Academia, always knowing 'a good place' to go to let loose. Venti too, once he finally got you out of your shell. They both insisted you were a fun drunk, the total life of the party once you let loose. Still, when you had a choice, you avoided them altogether. It was just too much. Too many smells, too many sounds, too many people. They made you feel like you were suffocating, regardless of whatever drug you were putting in your body to numb the anxiety.

You'd managed to masterfully avoid any house parties thanks to classes picking up, the perfect excuse to hide away at Puspa Cafe with your tentative boyfriend Ifa. He'd managed to convince you to go on more than a few dates with him now, and while nothing was made official, you were pretty sure he was inching in that direction. Regardless of whatever your relationship was right now, he always greeted you with the brightest smile when you walked through those cafe doors. As usual, he'd made space for you already, and your favorite cup of coffee was sitting in your spot, luring you to his side like a deadly trap.

"Evenin'," He greets with his regular low drawl, scootching his chair just a little closer to yours, enough to wrap his arm around you in a side hug.

You lean into the touch automatically, stress leaving you all at once, "Evening, Ifa. Studying working out for you today?"

He sighs, heavy and tired. He was reviewing the same thing he had been all week, and it was starting to wear on his seemingly unending patience. Instead of complaining about it, which you know he wants to do more than anything, he just kisses your temple. Pushing the book back a little as if dismissing it in favor of paying attention to you.

"Big test comin' up," he hums, "lets not talk about that, though. You busy this weekend?"

You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he smiles innocently. Weekend outings with him had become normal now, despite Navia's complaints about feeling 'abandoned' by you. You knew she wouldn't end up lonely by the time morning came, so it was easy to brush off her guilt-tripping. Besides, Ifa was always fun to be around, taking you to so many different places to do so many new things. He knew Sumeru better than you did, having been here for so long, so you always got a little giddy when he asked for your weekend plans.

You shake your head, bringing your coffee mug to your lips, "Nothing much, just gotta peer review something for Venti for that god-awful poetry class, but I can do that anytime. Why're you asking?"

"Playing dumb is cute," he snorts, ruffling your hair playfully, "I wanted to take you somewhere."

"Hmmm... alright, I guess I can spare you some of my precious free time," you reply haughtily.

An annoyed sigh with no real malice behind it, "A friend of mine is throwing a party on Saturday, and I was thinking it would be a good way to... introduce you. They've been bothering me about it since our first date, and I don't think it's fair to hold off on it any longer."

Your heart skips a beat, both at the idea of having to go to a party with a ton of strangers and at the fact that he wants you to meet his friends. On one hand, it's incredibly sweet that he not only talks about you to his friends but he's been talking about you since your first date. You're at least important enough that the people he's close to know about you enough to ask. On the other hand, if you go to a party and Navia finds out, she's gonna be undeniably pouty. Not to mention parties really weren't your thing.

Ifa seems to sense your inner conflict as soon as it pops up into your mind, a hand coming across the table to gently squeeze your own. He gives you a little reassuring smile, warm as the summer sun and gentle as a breeze. He never fails to worry about you or account for your discomfort. You know all you have to say is no, and he'll find some other way for you to meet his friends on your own terms. Yet, you can't find it in yourself to deny him when he looks at you like that. So much love and care behind his pretty teal eyes.

"Sounds like fun," You smile, squeezing his hand back, "I'll tell you now, though, I'm not the biggest fan of parties..."

He smirks, leaning his head on his hands, "Never could've guessed. You actually seem like quite the party animal."

"Oh, shut it," You scold, going for another sip of your coffee to hide the grin growing on your face.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

You turn your body from left to right in the mirror, trying to decide if the skirt you were wearing was too risky or not. It hid everything it needed to, but all it would take was a light breeze and you'd flash the whole of Sumeru with your lacy panties. Navia stands behind you proudly, despite this, completely satisfied with her work.

You couldn't keep it from her if you tried, so you folded and asked her for help. While she was huffy and pissy for the first little while, the second you asked her for advice on what to wear, she was excitedly leaping at the chance to strip you down and dress you up like a doll. Your laciest underwear, your (her) tiniest skirt, and a cute top with platforms to match. You looked hot, but... maybe it was too much? You didn't want to give Ifa's friends the wrong impression of you, or throw Ifa off too much with how different you look now.

Navia's cheeky squeeze to your butt immediately washes all your thoughts down the drain, squealing into a giggle fit. She wraps her arms around your shoulders, sliding her gaze up and down your body in the mirror. She looked positively satisfied with her work, and she did an amazing job. Despite how upset she was initially, she still came through for you where it mattered. She was still your best friend, and you wouldn't ever dream of asking for a new one.

"You look so sexy," She hums, squeezing you tightly.

You smile, "I do. Thank you, Navia. I'd be lost without you."

"I know!" She hums, "I'm still upset you won't let me go to this special 'invite-only' party, but I guess I'll have to settle for dressing you up now."

You roll your eyes, "Ifa asked me to go, not you, I don't think he'd enjoy you barging in on our date."

She scowls, biting your shoulder hard enough you have to push her away. As you do, your phone buzzes, undoubtedly a notification from him. You smile at his message, typing a quick response before tossing it back in your bag thoughtlessly. If you were gonna be out all night, you would need to use it as little as possible, so into the bag it would be forgotten until you absolutely needed it.

"He's here," You hum, and Navia only seems to sour more.

She still finds it in herself to give you a quick smack as you walk out the door, "Be safe. Use protection!"

You scoff, "Shut up! I'll text you when I'm coming back, okay?"

"IF you're coming back."

"Goodnight, Navia."

She sticks her tongue out at you as you round the corner to the stairs, carefully making your way down to the back exit of the dorm. You see Ifa through the window before he does you, a loose-fitted t-shirt, a leather jacket, and a pair of very flattering jeans. He's ditched his usual cowboy hat for wild and free hair that frames his face nicely, highlighting those sleepy eyes of his you've come to love. He's as cool as he always is, hands stuffed in his pockets as he breathes in the night air. Right up until he sees you that is.

There's a visible shift in him, straightening and eyebrows raising near his hairline. Navia did exactly what she set out to do. A lazy smirk crawls up his face, hands immediately reaching out to take your waist in his hands. They fit there perfectly, warming you in spite of the cool evening air. It's easier to kiss him on these platforms, lips sliding against yours like they were meant to be there. There's an underlying heat to the way he kisses you, but he doesn't push for any more than he's given right now.

"You look good," Is the first thing that leaves his mouth, breathless.

You fluster, "Navia helped me out."

"She did a good job," he hums, pressing another warm kiss to your cheek, then another to your jaw before he catches himself.

He pulls back, giving you another heated once-over before interlocking your fingers in tugging you along with him. The car ride to his friend's house is full of tension that neither of you wants to acknowledge just yet. But his hand rests a little too high up on your thigh as he drives, and it squeezes a little too tight at every stop light. Like he's reminding himself to behave.

It wasn't as though you hadn't already tried things with him. He was pretty straightforward about everything in the relationship, including his own needs, but he'd never let it go past heavy petting. The tension wasn't unfamiliar, but it was different. Thicker. More... unruly, somehow.

Still, he doesn't jump your bones in the car, nor does he when he finally parks down the block from the party. He's the picture-perfect gentleman as he helps you out of the car, leading you down the street with a hand on your lower back. The music from the party blares loudly down the street, thrumming in your veins already. You nearly ask to turn back there, you know he would too. You're sure he'd take any chance to be alone with you right now, but an excited voice shouts from the sidewalk in front of you, followed by rapid footsteps.

A cute girl with white hair and the brightest smile you've ever seen stops dead in her tracks in front of you. Just short of plowing both of you down as she pants to catch her breath. Given how red her cheeks are, she's already had a few, but she seems more worried about greeting the two of you than her own well-being. She takes both of your hands in hers, bouncing up and down excitedly.

"ARE YOU THE GIRL IFA'S BEEN TALKING ABOUT?" She shouts, far too loud for her proximity.

You flinch slightly, pulling back, and that gets her to back down a little. She frowns, apologetic as she backs away, still holding your hands in hers.

"Sorry, I'm just so excited to meet you! He doesn't shut up about how amazing you are-"

"Alright, Mualani, we get it," Ifa interrupts, holding you a little closer now, "cool it, yeah, bro?"

You smile warmly at her, squeezing her hands back, "It's nice to meet you, uhm, Mualani."

Another set of footsteps comes from behind the bright girl, and a man with black hair comes jogging over. He looks tired, faces expressionless as he carefully peels Mualani off you. A deep sigh tumbles past his lips, giving Ifa what could almost be considered an apologetic look, though his face doesn't shift too much. Ifa nods regardless, so you nod at him too.

"She was adamant she had to be the first person to greet you," The young man sighs again, "I'm sorry for the trouble she might've caused. It is nice to meet you, though."

You smile a little, "Nice to meet you too, um..."

"Kinich," Ifa answers for you, "let's get going to the party already, yeah? I'm gettin' cold."

Kinich nods, and the four of you make your way to the actual party. Mualani excitedly chats your ear off, pressing her shoulder into yours and swinging her arms around animatedly. She reminded you a lot of Navia, if she was a bit more carefree. She was easy to talk to and more than eager to help you get around the party - she even mentioned setting aside a room for you if you got too overwhelmed. 'Comfort comes first!' she sang out.

You nearly take her up on the offer the second you step through the door. The heat of the bodies hits you immediately after the sound does, and you can smell the weed in the air. It's intense enough to make you lightheaded, but Ifa squeezes you close to his side, and it all melts away. It's not so bad, because Ifa is right here, excusing both of you to a more secluded corner and making sure you're okay. Always worrying about you.

"You sure you wanna do this," he asks, crowding your space, "all you have to do is say the word, bro."

"I know, bro. I want to, I just need a second to adjust... and... maybe a drink." You hum.

He smirks, "A drink I can do, too. Stay there lookin' pretty, I'll be right back."

You appreciate the sight of him walking away with a contented smile. From your little hidey-hole, you can see all the people. Some of them chatted, others dancing on each other, some playing drinking games, and a few a little too close to fucking each other raw over poor Mualani's couch. It's nice to have this vantage point, it allows you to take it all in instead of getting overstimulated like when Venti or Navia push you into everything at once. A drink in a quiet corner with Ifa was all you needed to warm up a little.

You feel your nerves melting away just from standing there, knowing he would be coming back. Knowing you would have a drink to steel your nerves soon. A light sigh leaves your lips, contentment sinking into your bones. You could drink, dance, and really let loose tonight with Ifa. That's just what you plan on doing, slutty little outfit giving you more confidence than you might normally have.

A low whistle near you seems to agree, turning your head to find none other than Venti. He looks tickled by your tiny skirt if the way his eyes stick to your legs says anything. He prances up to you with his usual grace, a cheeky grin lighting up his face.

"Didn't expect to see you here, Windblume," He chirps, taking Ifa's previous spot next to you.

The closeness is something you're all to used to with Venti, so you don't bat an eye when he presses his shoulder into yours. Nor when he takes a strand of your hair to twirl it between his fingers. His flirtiness was a part of his natural charm, after all, there wasn't anything to question with him. So you smile shyly at him.

"Me either, honestly." You admit.

He hums, "Thought you were too busy to party with me."

"I am busy," you defed.

"And sober," he jabs an elbow into your side, leaning in close, "want me to get something for ya. I know a real good combination that'll have you giggling in no time."

"Already got it covered," the very dry voice of Ifa responds for you.

He slides his arm around your shoulder, effectively walling Venti away from your face. He doesn't seem to take it too hard, shrugging and dipping around to keep his eyes on you. You roll your eyes at his antics, taking the red solo cup from Ifa who affixes an unfriendly look over your head on Venti.

"Ooo, who's this? Got yourself a little boyfriend now?" Venti teases lightly.

You fluster, feeling a little humiliated by the teasing, especially in front of Ifa. It strikes you now that Ifa really hasn't seen the way you interact with anyone other than himself and Ororon - occasionally Navia when he's lucky. Venti's flirty banter could come off the wrong way, and you don't want Ifa to get the wrong idea. It doesn't seem to matter though, because he quickly responds.

"Sure does. That a problem for you, dude?" He's more dry than usual, and it's lacking in humor.

Venti takes it in stride, "No! Of course not! Weird though, she hasn't mentioned you to me before."

Ifa scoffs, pressing you closer to his side, "She only sees you what, once or twice a week right? Not much you can say in so little time to someone who doesn't shut up."

You can feel the tension between them building way too fast for you to keep up with, so you swallow down whatever fruity concoction Ifa got for you quickly. Feeling more confident with the alcohol in your veins, you pop back into their conversation somewhere about responsibility and taking things seriously.

"Hey, y'know, I went to read your poem last night and there was nothing on the document," you suddenly voice, tearing through the tension, "I think it might've been deleted."

"Are you serious?" Venti asks, suddenly a little more serious.

You nod, "Yeah. It was totally blank when I looked."

"Shit." He spits out, "I gotta go check on it... it was nice to see you. I'll talk to you later?"

You nod adamantly, "I hope nothing happened, see you later!"

He nods, waving at you as he slowly melds into the sea of people toward the front door. You feel Ifa relax as he finally walks away, tossing back the rest of his drink with a sigh. You peer up at him and find he's already smiling knowingly down at you. He caught on fast.

"Are all your friends that insufferable," He asks, humor back in his tone like it never left.

You smile, "Nope. Venti's just good at getting under your skin. He's really nice, I promise."

"Oh, he wanted to get under something, alright..." He mumbles under his breath.

You tilt your head curiously, "What was that?"

"Nothin' darlin'," he sighs, "why don't we go find something fun to do. I'm aching to let loose, dance."

You nod excitedly, the buzz from your drink giving you the confidence you need as he tugs you out of the corner and to the dance floor. It's bodies on top of bodies, brushing against each other, heat emanating from every direction. Yet, all you can focus on is Ifa as he smiles at you like you're the only thing worth looking at. His hands keep themselves at your waist, despite how they twitch to be anywhere else.

He does a good job of it too, holding you with the respect that any young man should. It doesn't last long though, not when the song shifts to a much more upbeat one. An 'ass throwing' song, as Navia likes to say, and you can't help but agree with her now. Turning around to throw it back on Ifa, laughing when you see him visibly short-circuiting over your shoulder.

You're not sure what's going through his mind in the few seconds he's stun-locked, but when he starts reciprocating, grinding back into you you can get an idea. His hands slide up your sides and over your stomach, keeping you pressed tight into him. He's rock hard against you, and you can feel how soaked your panties have gotten. The skirt leaves little untouched by him, and you can tell he wants it all to be untouched by the way his fingers dance along the bottom of it, the other hand cusping your breast.

You feel electricity pressed up against him, feeling sinfully sexy with how he's all over you. When he leaned down to press his face into your neck, you knew the two of you were done for. It was just you and Ifa right now, and you're sure if he was more than tipsy he'd probably take you on the floor with all these people watching. You don't dare admit how much that turns you on.

Instead, he whispers in your ear, "Wanna go check out that room Mualani was talkin' 'bout?"

You don't respond, just turning and pushing him. He guides you around the house like second nature, pulling you up a flight of stairs and to a quiet corner of the house no one seems to bother visiting right now. The door to the bedroom creaks open, and he takes a second to make sure it's empty, before pulling you in.

His lips are on yours again so fast you nearly stumble to the floor, but he catches you by the small of your back and leverages that to deepen the kiss. You shove at his jacket frantically, sighing as his tongue presses into your mouth. It rolls along yours, playfully coaxing you to join in, only to fight when you finally do.

He doesn't break it until he's tugging your shirt off, then his. Only for a moment before he's back on you with a fury, determined to swallow you whole it seems. Your bra follows after this, and then his belt and jeans fall with a dull thud. As soon as they do, he's hauling you up into his arms, grasping your thighs like a lifeline as he carries you to the bed. You bounce a few times when he tosses you on it, looking down at you with unrestrained excitement.

You're not any different, swallowing up the contours of his abs happily. He looked like some kind of god like this, making your head spin from more than just the buzz you had. He seems to have a moment of clarity, leaning down to press his forehead against yours.

"You wanna do this? All you gotta say is-"

"Yes. God, please, you've been eye fucking me all night and I can't stand it anymore." you groan out.

He laughs, "Guilty as charged. Can you blame me though? This little skirt doesn't leave much to the imagination."

"That's the point, yeah." You snark back, earning you a warning squeeze on your thigh.

"Don't be nasty now, bro."

"Call me bro one more time and you're not getting any ever."

He nods, "Noted. Now... let's see what's goin' on down here..."

He crawls down your body with his lips, hands spreading you out like you were a delicious buffet made just for him. He smirks at the lacy panties, and more specifically at the very obvious wet spot staining the middle of them. You realize he hasn't taken your skirt off, staring at him like this, and go to do so, but he stops you. Eyes moving up to yours like a warning.

"That stays on. Got it, sweetness?" he warns lowly, and the words rush right to your aching pussy, clenching around nothing.

You nod stupidly, and he hums satisfied. Returning to the object of his interests. He thinks about it for a moment, eyes looking to yours, and then with a smirk, he leans down and licks a long stripe up your clothed entrance. Eyes locked on yours, making sure you're watching him like he wants. It draws a long whine out of you, and his smirk widens.

He leans down, mouth clasping around you and allowing his tongue to roll over your clothed folds. It's an oddly pleasant feeling, the wet lace pressing into you, leaving an imprint of it against you. He groans at the taste of you, vibrating through you to your core. It's not enough for either of you, which is why he quickly tugs your panties down your legs and delves right in again. He immediately searches for your clit, finding it with little effort and absolutely abusing the hell out of the little nub.

It's shockwave of pleasure after shockwave of pleasure, and it's only made worse when his sneaky fingers are suddenly pressing inside. Stretching you out for the main event. He moves them at a languid pace, pumping in and out of you with ease from how damn wet you'd become. Each pump is followed by a roll of his tongue, surrounding you with nothing but him and the pleasure he gave you. You were lightheaded in minutes, ready to fall apart at just a single word.

Yet, he pulled away right before he got to the good part, leaving you breathless and worked up. You whine at him, and he grins apologetically, though he doesn't seem that way.

"Sorry darlin', I wanna feel that when I'm inside you for real. You can understand that, can't you?" He purrs, annoyingly convincing for his cause.

He moves across the room, digging in his pants for something, sighing when he finds it. The little package glints in the light, and you realize it's a condom as he settles himself between your legs with his boxers gone. Why did he bring condoms with him, unless he planned to fuck you tonight, which was honestly kind of hot.

"You just carry condoms around with you," You ask.

He chuckles, "I do, yeah. I may not need 'em... usually... but my friends are some freaks. Gotta make sure they're not havin' kids at these parties, y'know."

You smirk, "You sure you weren't just planning on sleeping with me?"

"Well..." He hums, "I won't say I wasn't hoping for it."

"Got your wish then," you answer.

He smirks, "Damn right I did. You ready?"

He leans down over you, lacing your fingers together and pressing his forehead to yours. It's incredibly sweet the way he looks at you, gentle and loving, despite the fact he was about to fuck you. You nod, reciprocating the gestures.

"Squeeze my hand three times if you need me to stop, okay pretty?" He hums, and you nod again.

His other hand comes down to help ease himself into your sopping entrance. It's a stretch even with his earlier help, but that can't be stopped you suppose. Besides, he goes so slow and gives you all the time you need to adjust, so it's not so bad. It takes a bit before he is fully sheathed inside, but once he is, it's like you're in heaven. He fills you up so good, stuffed full and ready to have your world rocked by him with the pounding of the party music behind you.

One last check, a little squeeze of your fingers, and he finally moves. Small and shallow thrusts first, testing the waters, but they make you squirm nonetheless. When he is certain you are taking him well, his movements get deeper, and more meaningful in the way he moves against you. The brush of his cock inside your walls is dizzying, dragging along them at an easy pace making your head spin.

His fingers tighten around your hand, his other hand tapping along your hip like he's trying to distract himself. His usually lidded eyes have fallen impossibly lower, each breath looking like an impossible task for him. It's got you biting your lip, fingers tightening in his grip. He glances up at you, catching your shameless staring, and gives you a breathtaking smile.

"Enjoying the view?" He pants out, still keeping that same pace.

You nod, unable to focus on one part of his face, eyes darting from one to the other, then his lips down his chest and back again. Too much brain power to focus on one part of him when all of them look so good right now. It gets him to coo at you, hand sliding up your side in a slow and easy crawl until it cradles your jaw.

"Can't even focus, am I really that good?" He asks though you're in no state to answer and he knows it.

He leans down to kiss you before you can try and mumble something half-coherent out, swallowing the sounds as they die on your tongue. It dips in and out at the same pace he does, slow and deep, reaching further and further as if trying to imprint himself inside you. His free hand slides back down your body, giving your breast a playful squeeze on its way, and slides around your thigh. With no effort on his part, he lifts it up to wrap your leg around his waist. The new angle deepened his thrusts even more, pressing up against your sensitive walls relentlessly. Steady and firm and unshaken.

You keep yourself level by following the movements of his tongue, pressing against yours, encouraging you to keep up with him. He tastes like the fruity drink from earlier, with the slightest hint of something savory underneath. The alcohol was nothing against him, practically blackout on his taste alone. You might never drink again if this was the replacement. You bring your free hand up to his hair, running your fingers through his curly locks. They curl around your fingers, sinking you into him even further, temping you to get lost in him.

Each draw of his hips sent fire through your bones and every time they collided with yours you swear lightning struck your body. The pounding music only aids in making your head fuzzy, encouraging you to be as loud as you like against his lips. You moan and sigh and whine, just like he wants you to, eating up each sound with another swipe of his tongue. You think you might suffocate against his lips, but you don't mind that at all. It would be an honor to die smothered in his devotion, so much so that you whine when he begins to trail his lips away from yours.

Open-mouthed kisses tumble down your cheek, along your jawline, and right to the side of your throat. He nips at you playfully when you clench around him, having to take a second to groan against your skin when you clench even harder at the feeling. You're not sure how many marks he leaves in the heat of the moment, but it feels as though he means to leave no room to question what exactly you'd done tonight. What he'd done. What he was going to do.

He readjusted the hand he was holding, placing it around his neck and tapping three times as a reminder. Then it falls down in between the two of you, squeezing the fat of your thigh tightly. Leveraging himself up into a sitting position with its help, tugging you flush against him as soon as he's adjusted. The room is much cooler with him off of you, your nipples pebble along with your skin. You don't think when your hands come up to play with them, pulling and tweaking the sensitive buds to warm yourself up again. The effect it has on Ifa is a different story, eyes blown wide and watching you with nothing short of hunger.

"Shit, dude- fuck. I meant- goddamn... you're gonna kill me here, darlin'," He flusters for the second time that night.

You just roll your hips in response, unable to think of any clever comeback right now. All you want is for him to fuck you, and that's what you'll get, one way or another. He reciprocates with ease, once again using your thighs as leverage to fuck himself into you. The pace he sets is much more aggressive now, urgent like he couldn't wait much longer either.

His fingers sink into the plush of your thighs like dough, molding your mind and body with his dick. The heat from earlier is back with a vengeance, running through your whole body and pouring into your core like molten lava. The heat keeps rising and rising with every thrust, and deeper and deeper you fall into madness. The only thing on your mind is him, and it tumbles out of your lips like a mantra. Like a benevolent god, he listens and keeps giving you all you pray for. Pounding deeply within your core until the heat boils over, and you sob his name as the white-hot pleasure sends you tumbling into madness.

He follows after you, bending over you to suck one last purple hickey between your neck and your jaw, and then moans your name. Low and deep, rumbling between the two of you. He comes down first, pressing soft kisses into your neck as you float from your high, lightweight as a feather. You bask in the affection he gives you, sighing into the air, still thrumming from the party below you.

"Feel good?" He asks.

You nod, "I think I needed that."

He smirks into your skin, taking a second before responding, "I think I needed it too."

It takes a few moments for either of you to get up, basking in the warm glow of after-sex. Yet, the party still roars beneath you, reminding you that you are not at home and that to relax you would have to get home. However, with Navia there, it wouldn't be very relaxing - especially after she sees what you did to her skirt.

Ifa pulls himself up first, easing you into a sitting position as sweetly as he can. Quietly he dresses himself, collects your clothes, and helps you do the same. As best as he can, that is. He takes about three seconds to look at your panties before stuffing them in the pocket of his jeans. Your bra he does manage to get on, clipping the clasp together with little struggle thanks to his steady hands. Instead of bothering with your top, he simply zips you up in his jacket and shoves the thin piece of fabric into his other pocket. It's all an incredibly endearing show, ending when he pulls you up and tugs your skirt back down over your ass. Not that it matters when his jacket is longer than it was in the first place.

He knows the way out of the house, navigating the two of you through the crowd with ease, making sure he is positioned right behind you. Just in case. Certainly not to get another feel as he pushes you through the bodies. You almost feel bad for leaving without saying goodbye or having properly met his friends, but you know you'll get another chance to do so. Hopefully in a more calming setting.

He's quiet as he leads you back to his car, eyes focused on something off in the distance that you couldn't see. The quiet night air keeps you company instead, and the cool breeze cools your still-heated skin with kindness. It's sobering, hitting you all at once with the realization you just did the most cliche college act in the book, and it was amazing. Maybe not the best idea- scratch that, it was a really good idea, but maybe Ifa didn't agree? You couldn't tell with the way he was acting.

Quietly sitting down in his car, making sure you didn't ruin his seats as he drove you home. He still kisses your forehead before he takes off like all is well, but his grip is knuckle white on the steering wheel. He swallows hard every few minutes like whatever he's thinking about is difficult for him. Did he regret sleeping with you? It didn't seem like it while it was happening, but maybe being outside sobered him up and he realized what a huge mistake he made?

You shake your head, mentally scolding yourself for wallowing in self-pity. With a warm smile, you rest your hand on his arm, startling him out of his thoughts. He blinks a few times, seemingly shaking off whatever is on his mind, and smiles at you like the luckiest man alive.

"You alright... you seem... distracted?" You ask quietly.

He takes a moment to compose himself again, fingers tapping along the steering wheel as a distraction. He's holding himself back again, an unidentifiable tension that you weren't aware of standing between you and him. A moment of internal debate, before his shoulders finally relax and his hand comes to slip into yours like it was meant to.

"I have been dreaming of having sex with you since our first kiss," he admits brazenly, glancing at you a few times to gauge your reaction.

Reasonably, you're flustered at the admission, but you can't shame him. You'd had similar feelings for a while, but admitting them out loud was harder than it seemed. You admired that he could do it so easily, though. Finding his boldness charming more than startling.

You squeeze his hand, "Well... you're not alone in that."

He snorts, "Yeah, well, now that I've gotten a taste I dunno if I can stop. You've got me addicted from one taste."

You bite your lip, emboldened by his confidence, and slide his hand up your thigh. Resting it just below where his jacket ends, message more than obvious.

"No one said you had to stop," you hum, relishing in how his hand squeezes you so tightly, "it's healthy to treat yourself sometimes. You told me that, remember."

"I did, didn't I?" He hums, fingers crawling under your skirt once more, "I hope you don't mind my indulging just a little longer?"

You send him a suspicious look, “How much longer?”

"How about until someone gives us a noise complaint, hm?" he purrs.

Your eyebrows shoot up, he wanted to keeping going in his dorm?

"What about Ororon? Won't he-"

"Visiting his granny," he dismisses, "and don't worry about Cacucu, I sent him off with Ororon this weekend. Figured I'd be busy."

You can't believe how shameless he was, but you can't find it in yourself to be anything other than happy.

"Well then, I hope your neighbors don't mind missing a few hours of sleep tonight."

He hums, fingers finally right where they need to be, "They're really understanding, so don't worry too much about them."

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

You had to go to great lengths to hide all the hickeys Ifa very intentionally left all over the most visible parts of your neck. His punishment was running to the drug store to buy you all the cheap color-correcting makeup you needed, but he didn't seem to be bothered by it. Not when he sighed so dreamily as he watched you struggle to cover up all his doing. Luckily, he got the cumstains out of Navia's skirt, so you could forgive him for that at least. You're not sure she'd even want it back anyway.

After nearly an hour of painstaking work, you've finally covered all the hickies you could see. Which was most of your neck, of course. You tie your messy hair up in a bun, not wanting to handle it any longer. He'd left you quite a mess, and you only had enough energy left to fix one of the several. Still, when he came up behind you to kiss you farewell before his 8am, you couldn't stay mad.

"You're gonna come to Puspa tonight, right? Mualani was thinking of stopping by with Kinich and some of our other friends," he asks, pressing his face against yours from behind.

You smile at him through the mirror, pressing your cheek closer to his, "Yeah, I can come. I still feel bad leaving like we did."

"Trust me, bro, they're not upset," he pulls back with that, leaning down to press one last kiss to the back of your neck, "stop by the library before lunch, too, Ororon wants to see you."

"I will," you call to him as he waltzes out the door.

From there, you go about your day as usual. Your first few classes are peaceful and quiet, with no one bothering you about anything. Monday is the only day Navia has no morning classes with you, so it's all nice and easy without her pestering for details every five minutes. It's not until you bump into Kazuha that things seem a little off. He has an uneasy smile on his face when he taps your shoulder from behind, but still wraps you in a hug like always when you do.

"Hey, it's my boyfriend!" You hum playfully.

He hums back, "I've missed you, my darling girlfriend. I heard you went to a party this weekend, did you have fun?"

There's a hidden question in his tone, and you know what it is, but you dismiss it. There's no way he of all people would know what you and Ifa did... all weekend unless Venti somehow found out, but you doubt it. He was really serious about the poem that you may or may not have lied about.

"Yeah! It was super fun, I met some cool new people and... and I really got to unwind!" You dance around the subject easily.

He doesn't push it, thank goodness, "That's great. You really push yourself too far sometimes, a good rest is what you deserve."

"Thanks, Kazuha." You're genuinely appreciative of it too. It's nice to hear him talk so positively of you, "I gotta get to my meeting with Kaveh, but take care, yeah!"

He smiles, waving you off, end with a, "Remember if you ever feel the need to unwind again, just call me next time!"

A little weird on the phrasing, especially considering what 'unwinding' meant to you, but... surely not. There's just no way! You dismiss it quickly as it comes, not wanting to relish on the thought and ruin your perfectly good day.

But then, Kaveh and Alhaitham are acting a bit... odd. You don't usually study with them, but Eula was busy this evening, and using study room five without her felt sacrilegious. So, you managed to convince Kaveh to do so during his free period, Alhaitham promising to stop by later once his class was out. Kaveh had been tense since you set your bag down, unable to really focus on his paper.

When Alhaitham comes in the behavior only gets odder, the older of the two immediately scolding him when he goes to ask you a question. They bicker back and forth about it for a moment, before Alhaitham drops it with a sigh. Weird, given how stubborn he was all the time. But he kept glancing at your neck, making you feel a little self-conscious. Had the makeup rubbed off? You told Ifa to get the good expensive stuff so it shouldn't have so easily.

You finally get your answer when Wriothesley and Navia come across you as you're heading to the library to meet with Ifa and Ororon. You hear Navia before you see her, gasping loudly like she'd seen something horribly scandalous. When you turn to them, you are surprised to find Wirothesley scowling at you. Or, more at your neck. Self consciously you place a hand at the back of your neck.

"Ohh, honey," Navia coos, rushing to your side, "why didn't you come and see me, I would've made sure you got all of them!"

Wriothesley, on the other hand, is as dry as ever, "Do I need to take care of someone for you, cause I most certainly can. Might cost you though."

"No, you don't... yet," you sigh, "is it bad."

Wriothesley nods, "Like someone tried to eat you."

"Well, at least I know why you didn't come home this weekend," Navia mumbles, "goodness, it really does look like he tried to eat you. Lemme help you cover it up."

You wave a hand at her, "No, no. I'll just hide it with my hair. Besides, I'm already late to meeting Ifa, and Childe's gonna throw a fit if I'm not at our regular table in fifteen."

She pouts as you brush past her, but doesn't push you any further. She had all night to do that anyway, so you'd get your scolding from her later.

Wriothesley sends you a smirk as you walk away, "Just say the word!"

"I'll let you know!" You call back, practically storming your way to the library.

Ifa smiles when he sees you, then frowns when he sees your hair. That bastard. You nearly rip him a new one, if not for the fact Ororon greets you before you can get to it. He is blissfully unaware of what his roommate had done on both sides of the room this weekend, and you think it's best kept that way. It does not stop you from glaring over at Ifa when Ororon isn't paying attention, though.

When he offers to walk you to the cafeteria, you take it as your opportunity to scold him like a mother would a child.

"Why didn't you tell me? I walked around like that all day. People probably think I'm a cheap whore," you whine.

He smirks, "You're a very pretty cheap whore."

"Ifa."

He holds his hands up, "I'm kidding, bro, I'm kidding. You're not a whore, you're the opposite actually."

"You're so insufferable," you roll your eyes, but you're not angry much anymore, "I don't get why you had to leave all these marks. It's like you like getting in trouble."

"Only with you," he remarks cheekily, quickly moving on to, "Besides, I gotta 'stake my claim on you' somehow."

You level a flat look on him, wholly unimpressed with his animal kingdom language, "That's the stupidest shit I've ever heard.

He smiles at you like he always does, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, "It's true though! You've always got a million eyes on you, if I don't leave my mark they'll think it's okay to take what's mine."

You raise an eyebrow, though your heart flutters in your chest, "What's yours?"

"That's what you are, right?" He leans in close, "You're mine, aren't you?"

You have to turn away to save face, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously. God he was so attractive, it wasn't fair.

"Guess I am," you answer simply.

"Good, just how I like it."

#bunni's treats 🧁#x reader #ifa genshin #ifa x reader #genshin ifa #genshin ifa x reader #ifa genshin x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #navia x reader #wriothesley x reader #venti x reader #kazuha x reader #smut #genshin smut #kaveh x reader #alhaitham x reader

502 notes · View notes