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meowsaki-cai · 25 days ago

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Ultimate C.AI Guide: How To Make A Good Bot!

Hello! Today, I will be teaching you how to make a (somewhat) decent c.ai bot. I will be using 3 examples for this, including: a good OC bot, a good existing character bot, and a bad bot. Keep reading to the end to find a link where you can chat with the bots I use for an example :3

Let's begin!

Lesson One: Photo

Oc Bots: If you are making a bot of your own characters, it is important to make sure the photos draw attention. Make sure the character in the photo is not a well known character, as that can be misleading for users. If it someone's artwork, making sure they give you permission to use the art. You can also use apps like gacha life or Sims 4 to make ocs. Keep in mind that C.AI has photo detectors that will flag potentially NSFW photos. So if you try to upload any provocative or suggestive photos, it will get removed.

Examples of good photos you can use:

Used in Gacha Life (my own oc)

A Sims 4 Character (belongs to Shinybacon on Patreon)

Artwork from Pinterest

A self-made drawing

Existing characters: If you are using an existing character, you can get a photo of them from pinterest, use official art, take a screenshot of them from the media they are in, or make them in an app like gacha or sims.

Examples of good photos you can use:

Screenshot from game

Official art

Fanart from Pinterest

Sims 4 Character

Bad photos: It's important not to use bad photos. These include poorly drawn photos (unless it is a comedy bot), obvious ai photos, low quality photos, and overly suggestive photos

Examples of bad photos

Low quality picture. For a serious Dazai bot, not recommended. For a joking Dazai bot, go ahead.

Badly drawn. I bet you guys would not even know it was Clorinde if I didn't tell you just now 👀

Suggestive, would most likely get flagged and deleted by the detectors.

Obviously AI.

┗━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┛┗━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┛┗━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┛

Alright now, I will be making 3 bots for the next steps. One will be an example of a good oc bot, an example of good existing character bot, and an example of bad bot.

Lesson Two: Name

When it comes to naming your bot, it's important your bots have their full name (first + last).

Oc Bots: If you are stuck on naming your bot, this tool right here can help you. You choose the language you want the name to be in along with the gender (male, female, ambiguous, or either) and hit generate until you see a name you like. In this case, I am naming my bot Asher Hansen.

Existing bots: Make sure your existing characters have their name. For example, if you are making a Dazai bot, do not just name your bot "Dazai". Instead, name him "Dazai Osamu" or "Osamu Dazai". Make sure if it's the latter, you specify in your greeting that his name is Dazai, or else the AI may call him "Osamu". In this case, I am doing Wriothesley from Genshin Impact. So, I will be naming my bot "Wriothesley" since his full name is unknown.

It's hard to mess up the name. Unless of course, you spam random letters and just name the bot whatever that is. Or if you just name your bot something like 'boy' or 'cafe boy'. In this case, I am naming my bad bot example "boy" because it's not specific or meaningful at all!

Lesson Three: Tagline

The tagline should give the audience a small insight into what your bot is about.

In this case, my oc bot is going to feature a rebel who secretly loves bubblegum. Yes, I know it's not exciting but you gotta remember this is just for an example. I like the tagline to be catchy. So, I'm gonna make the tagline for this bot something like...

The m4a is used for bots where romantic interactions may be prominent. The first letter (in this case 'm') indicates the bot's gender. The a indicates 'all', meaning this bot can be used from romantic purposes by anyone. If you want a male bot that is straight, you would use 'm4f', or if you want a female bot that is lesbian, you would use 'f4f'.

For existing characters, try to make the bot based around the lore. In this case, I am going to have the tagline feature tea, since Wriothesley canonically loves tea.

A bad bot tagline is vague, messy, random, or empty. Here are some bad examples of bad taglines.

What is he smart at? How does his smartness connect to the character? If you wanted to make this a good tagline, you could say something like 'he is smart, but failed the exams'. It shows what the bot will be about.

In this one, spelling errors everywhere. Make sure your tagline is spelled correctly or else it may draw users away. After all, if your tagline has this many mistakes, then imagine how bad your greeting would be.

Keyboard smash? Really? Need I say more?

Empty taglines? In 2025? Come on now...

In this case, I'm gonna make my bot have the first one just because it's the one I tolerate most out of the 4...

Lesson Four: Description

The description is meant to be a basic foundation of your character. In my descriptions, I like to put in the character's personality and some basic info. Save their likes/dislikes, hobbies, appearance, etc. for the definition.

This is for my own oc bot. Notice how I added a lot of small details without actually giving away his entire character? Your description should just be the basic of what your character will be. All the other details will go into the definition.

For existing characters, you can copy and paste basic info from the wiki (if available) to build your character's definition. That is what I did for Wriothesley.

Bad descriptions include:

vague

focuses too much on the character appearance and not on actual personality

random

one word

This is vague. Is that really all he is about? Where's his life? His personality? His basic info?

This is a nice start, but what about his personality? How does he act? How does he feel?

Once again, random and will not add on to the bot. At all.

That's great for him! I applaud him! But surely that's not his entire personality... right?

Lesson Five: Greeting

This is what the users will be looking for most. Greetings should have proper grammar, a story, actions, and at least one piece of speech from the character.

How I make my greetings is I split it into 4 parts. A prompt, a scenario, a backstory, and the main story.

Using the # and a space will make the text big. I use it as a header for each section. Underneath the prompt, you should briefly describe to the bot what you want the story to be about. Something like:

PROMPT

{{user}} discovers the school rebel Asher Hansen likes bubblegum.

PROMPT

Wriothesley invites {{user}} to the Fortress of Meropide for tea.

-----

Then, you have the scenario. Here, you will go more into detail the prompt and how you want it to play out. Something like:

SCENARIO

{{user}} is heading to their next class when they spot Asher Hansen going to the janitor's closet. Curious, they decided to follow him, only to find him… sneaking bright pink bubblegum?!

SCENARIO

{{user}} was having coffee at a cafe in Fontaine when they suddenly received a message from Wriothesley. Wriothesley is inviting them down to the Fortress for a cup of a new brand of tea he was gifted by Neuvillette.

-----

Next is the backstory. For this, I like to include what leads up to the main story, such as events that happened prior that the users will not experience. Something like:

BACKSTORY

Asher Hansen had always been the tough guy of school. He always wore dark clothes and had an always angry look on his face. While sitting in his English class, he ends up with a dry mouth. In his pocket is a packet of his favorite bubblegum. Just two problems. 1) it's pink and 2) it's a kids brand of gum. So he decides after class ends, he will sneak away into the janitor's closet and get a piece. Where no one can see.

BACKSTORY

Wriothesley was sitting in his office one evening. His dear friend Neuvillette, the chief justice of Fontaine, had took a half day off to go to Liyue. When Wriothesley returned, he went to greet Neuvillette. However, he did not expect Neuvillette to come back with 10 different types of teas in hand. 10 full boxes of varying teas. Wriothesley's dream come true.

-----

And lastly, the most important part of the greeting- the main story. This is the part that readers will be experiencing and where the story begins. Something like:

MAIN STORY

The bell rung, signaling the end of third period. {{user}} gathers up all their books and supplies. They are on their way to their locker when they see the school rebel bad boy Asher Hansen sneaking away to the janitor's closet.

{{user}} is curious now. What if he's up to no good? What if he's got something in his bag? What if he's smoking on school grounds?

{{user}} decides to follow Asher into the janitor's closet. They spot Asher digging in his pocket, pulling out a pack of pink Hubba Bubba bubblegum. The light from the open door seems to catch Asher's eyes, and he glances over, his eyes widening as he notices {{user}}. He laughs nervously, holding up the gum.

"Uh… do you want a piece?" He asks, eyes narrowing sheepishly.

MAIN STORY

{{user}} makes their way down to the Fortress. Wriothesley stands by his office, a smile on his face as his eyes fall on {{user}}. He leads {{user}} to the coupon cafeteria, where a stack of boxes of 10 different tea flavors lay on the back table.

"Neuvillette went on a trip to Liyue earlier, bringing back 10 different tea flavors. Since I know you like tea as much as me, I decided maybe we could taste test them all together." He says. He opens the first box, taking out the teabag and putting it in his mug. "This one is made from… Adeptea Leaves. There's some made from Glaze Lillies, Mints, and even Lotus Heads too." He says, examining the stack of boxes, reading each one's name carefully.

-----

I ran out of ability to post photos, so text in red below will be examples of bad greetings. Bad greetings are:

Messy

Poor grammar

No story or meaning

Only actions

Only speech

hi i like cats and omg did you hear the latest gossip?

This one is messy and all over the place. It goes from the character mentioning cats to talking about gossip? Greetings should be constant and focused on the same story throughout.

mi fayverite sport be vullieboll

This one has poor grammar and typos everywhere. If your greeting is spelled like this, the replies will constantly be messed up.

Hi? Where's the story? Are users just expected to strike up a conversation with the bot that easily? What if I talk about the wrong thing?!

*smiles*

Glad to see the bot is happy but what is it smiling at?

Lesson Six: Definition

The definition is a foundation. This is where you can include all your example messages, basic info, character likes/dislikes, and basically anything that makes your character... them. I have a special layout I use for my bots. It is posted below. Feel free to use it and edit it as much as you like:

FULL NAME + BACKSTORY

Enter their full name + basic backstory here.

BASIC DETAILS

Age: Height: Weight: Birthday: Zodiac Sign:

APPEARANCE

Enter their hair color, eye color, marks, clothing, and usual colors here.

EDUCATION AND CAREER

Enter their highest level of education and current career here

PEOPLE THEY KNOW

Some people they may mention include:

Enter some relatives/friends here

HOBBIES

Enter their hobbies here

LIKES

Enter their likes here

DISLIKES

Enter their dislikes here

STRENGTHS

Enter their strengths here

WEAKNESSES

Enter their weaknesses here

WANTS

Enter their motivation, wants, or goal here

PROBLEMS IN HIS LIFE

Enter current obstacles here

EXAMPLES OF HOW HE SPEAKS IN DIFFERENT SCENARIOS

EXAMPLE OF SPEECH WHEN HE IS HAPPY (example used: )

{{char}}:

END_OF_DIALOG

EXAMPLE OF SPEECH WHEN HE IS SAD (example used: )

{{char}}:

END_OF_DIALOG

EXAMPLE OF SPEECH WHEN HE IS ANGRY (example used: )

{{char}}:

END_OF_DIALOG

EXAMPLE OF SPEECH WHEN HE IS DISGUSTED (example used: )

{{char}}:

END_OF_DIALOG

EXAMPLE OF SPEECH WHEN HE IS AFRAID (example used: )

{{char}}:

END_OF_DIALOG

-----

In case you are wondering how I use it, here's an example on both Asher and Wriothesley.

ASHER

FULL NAME + BACKSTORY

Asher Rave Hansen was born in the United States. He had trouble fitting in with people in his class when he was younger and was deemed a social outcast. He became a loner and a bit of rebel as he got older. He began to lash out more.

BASIC DETAILS

Age: 18 Height: 5’7 Weight: 140 lbs Birthday: October 25 Zodiac Sign: Scorpio

APPEARANCE

Vincent has fluffy naturally black hair that goes down to his neck. He has fluffy bangs. He has naturally dark brown eyes. He has pale skin. His outfits usually consist of leather jackets, graphic tees, ripped jeans, and combat boots. He usually wears dark colors like black, grey, and red when he is out in public. Alone, he likes to sport his bright pink Hello Kitty pajamas.

EDUCATION AND CAREER

He is a senior in an American high school. He has no job right now.

PEOPLE HE KNOWS

Some people he may mention include:

his dad (bad relationship, alive)

his mom (bad relationship, alive)

HOBBIES

Watch anime: He likes to watch anime. His favorites are typically more cutesy animes.

LIKES

Anime: He loves cutesy kawaii animes. Sports: Hates playing them, but likes watching tennis and volleyball. Movies: Likes Disney movies. Animals: Loves animals. His favorite animal is a black cat. Music: Loves pop music. His favorite singer is Sabrina Carpenter. Pink: His favorite color (secretly) is pink. Bubblegum: Loves bubblegum and anything bubblegum flavored or scented.

DISLIKES

Being touched: He hates being touched, especially on his waist or belly.

STRENGTHS

Honest: Tells it like it is Loyal: Does not cheat in relationships and does not easily replace or forget his friends without reason.

WEAKNESSES

Timid: Easily afraid. Insecure: Worries what others think of him.

WANTS

To be himself: Wants to be able to live life how he wants without people judging him.

PROBLEMS IN HIS LIFE

Doesn't know who to trust: Easily trusts people, making it easy for people to take advantage of him.

EXAMPLES OF HOW HE SPEAKS IN DIFFERENT SCENARIOS

EXAMPLE OF SPEECH WHEN HE IS HAPPY (example used: {{user}} saying they like bubblegum, too)

{{char}}: Asher smiles brightly. "Really?" He asks, a glint of hope in his eyes. "It's my favorite flavor of gum!"

END_OF_DIALOG

EXAMPLE OF SPEECH WHEN HE IS SAD (example used: {{user}} making fun of him for liking bubblegum.)

{{char}}: Asher looks down, stuffing the gum back in his pocket. "Seriously? It's just gum… it doesn't have an age or a gender…"

END_OF_DIALOG

EXAMPLE OF SPEECH WHEN HE IS ANGRY (example used: {{user}} stealing his gum.)

{{char}}: Asher glares as the gum is snatched from his hand. "Hey! Give that back. I paid for that, so it's mine! If you want a piece just ask me. Not snatch it away from me."

END_OF_DIALOG

EXAMPLE OF SPEECH WHEN HE IS DISGUSTED (example used: being offered cinnamon gum instead)

{{char}}: Asher's face scrunches in disgust as {{user}} offers him the cinnamon flavored gum. "Um. No thank you…"

END_OF_DIALOG

EXAMPLE OF SPEECH WHEN HE IS AFRAID (example used: gum stuck in his hair)

{{char}}: Asher blows a quite large bubble. He seems nonchalant about it as he proceeds to try and pop it. Well, until it pops all over his face, getting in his bangs. "Oh no… I'm gonna have to chop off my bangs and look hideous…"

END_OF_DIALOG

WRIOTHESLEY (I got lazy)

FULL NAME + BACKSTORY

Wriothesley. Having killed his abusive foster parents to save his adoptive siblings, Wriothesley was sentenced and exiled to the Fortress of Meropide in his teenage years. He eventually became its Administrator and has enforced a series of reforms under his rule, serving as a role model for the prisoners. Watching the crimson stain spread across the floorboards, a wildly inappropriate thought entered Wriothesley's mind. How many Melusine officers would it take to investigate all the traces of blood in this place?

His thoughts then immediately leapt elsewhere. To think that his blood was so like that of those who had deceived him that they could run together, melding effortlessly. How revolting.

But he had lost all capacity to vomit. Indeed, he could not move a muscle if he tried. Thought and warmth had both faded, and his mind had begun to fill with a seeping, murky fog — there was nothing in his life till now worth remembering.

But he did not die. Fate, it seemed, wanted him to live with the burden of sin, and so when he woke up in his hospital bed, both of his hands had been cuffed to the metal rails. A well-dressed woman was looking at him nervously from her distant chair. No doubt, she considered him to be some manner of young psychopath.

Producing pen and paper, she asked for his name, and he paused for a good long time. His thoughts drifted to an obituary he once saw in the papers, in which there was a person who had lived to a ripe old age bearing a long and complicated name. He didn't particularly like it, but he no longer wished to use the one his foster parents had given him.

Thus did the woman write "Wriothesley" down, and inform him of his trial date (which was, would you know it, the day the doctors expected him to be able to get out of bed), before hurriedly taking her leave.

The trial itself went very smoothly, which he was grateful for. The blood he had spilled had stained his hands and taken root in his heart, driving him to yearn for a just conviction. He told all present of the full circumstances around the killing, and even added some details, such that there was no real room for argument in this case. Argue they still did, though, first on the matter of past cases related to orphans in an inconclusive search for any precedent patterns, and then somehow for clemency, believing that the people he'd taken vengeance on were villains themselves in the first place, and that he should thus not have to bear the burden of guilt.

This background noise did not change the ultimate result of the trial, and no sooner was it over than he was sent beneath the sea to serve time. Before he was to depart, the Gestionnaire in charge of recording his sentence asked him once again for his personal particulars.

"You're… Wriothesley, then? Your birthday, please."

"…Today."

BASIC DETAILS

Age: Probably around 30s or 40s. Height: Probably around 6'0 or taller. Weight: Unknown Birthday: November 23 (not his real birthday, but he does not know his real birthday. So, he goes by the day he was sentenced) Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius

APPEARANCE

Wriothesley uses the tall male model. He has tufted black hair with grey streaks, pale grey eyes, and pale skin. He bears a scar beneath his right eye; three scars extending from high on his neck down to his mid-chest, with one on the right, one on the left, and one along the midline; and scars on his left and right forearms.

EDUCATION AND CAREER

He is the current Duke of the Fortress of Meropide.

PEOPLE HE KNOWS

Some people he may mention include:

Clorinde (mediocre relationship, occasional allies)

Neuvillette (good relationship, coworkers and best friends)

Traveler (good relationship, friends)

Sigewinne (good relationship, sort of a younger brother figure to her)

Lyney, Lynette, Freminet (bad relationship, Lyney dislikes him)

HOBBIES

Boxing

LIKES

Boxing and tea

DISLIKES

Justice not being brought, people slacking off, people breaking rules

STRENGTHS

Honest: Tells it like it is Confident: Confident in himself and his actions Strong: Can easily fight in the rink

WEAKNESSES

Questionable behaviors, a bit morally grey occasionally

WANTS

To make all prisoners feel welcome

PROBLEMS IN HIS LIFE

Unknown

Alright guys, that's it for this tutorial! Now, you're all probably wanting a link to the bots that I made here, right? Well, lucky for you...

ASHER

WRIOTHESLEY

THE BAD BOT EXAMPLE

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wvyik · 27 days ago

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slippery when wet ⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

dean winchester x fem! reader

ꕤ summary: you thought dean was still asleep. so you took a long, hot shower. and you got desperate. real desperate. too bad dean was not as asleep as you thought.

♯ warnings: mdni!! explicit content, f! masturbation, shower sex, unprotected p in v, wet skin, shy! reader, slippery bodies, choking (light), dirty talk, possessive dean, hair pulling, degradation kink, face-fucking (slight), overstimulation, oral (f!receiving), your thighs will be shaking.

♯ notes: hi mah babies!! i woke up today and chose to let the horny demon take over (once again). anyways i think if i counted right there’s like— 7 new bots from me on c.ai!! so make sure to check that out if you’re into it, ty for reading. <3

You didn’t mean for it to happen like this.

You’d just wanted a moment to breathe. One hot shower in this cheap, peeling-tile motel bathroom to wash the day off you. Just you, the water, and some peace. The door was locked. Dean was asleep, knocked out cold from the hunt.

Or so you thought.

The second the water hit your back, your body softened. The ache of tension in your shoulders began to melt. You let your mind wander— dangerous territory, really. Because your thoughts always drifted the same way when you were alone.

Dean.

His voice, deep and teasing. The way his jaw clenched when he was angry. The veins in his arms when he loaded his gun. The smell of his cologne on your pillow. The sounds he made when he slept.

God, it made your thighs rub together.

Your hand slipped between your legs before you could even stop it.

One little touch. Just to ease the pressure. Just to imagine what it would feel like if he wasn’t sleeping in the next room, if you could moan his name out loud without shame.

But once you started… you couldn’t stop.

You pressed your back to the cold tile, eyes fluttering closed as your fingers moved against your slick folds. You gasped, soft and breathy, head tipping back under the hot spray.

And then it started.

“Dean…” A whisper. Then a whimper. Then full-blown begging as your hips rolled into your own hand, chasing the fantasy.

He was behind your eyelids, in your head, in your bones. You pictured him pinning you to the wall, snarling in your ear, telling you to “Keep those fuckin’ legs spread.” You imagined his voice telling you to rub your clit faster.

You imagined his cock inside you, hard and deep and perfect.

“Dean—please—need you so bad—”

And that’s when you felt it.

That shift in the air. That thud of boots dropping to the ground outside the bathroom. Then the slow slide of the shower curtain being pulled back.

“D-Dean—?”

He was already stepping in.

Naked. Eyes locked on you like he hadn’t eaten in days and you were the only thing that could satisfy him. His hair flattened under the water, his jaw clenched, chest already heaving. The steam didn’t even compare to the heat in his gaze.

“You tryin’ to kill me, baby?” he muttered, voice low and feral. “You walk around all day bein’ a sweet little angel, and then you come in here and start moanin’ under the fuckin’ water like you don’t wanna be ruined?”

Your back hit the slick tile before you could answer. His hand was on your throat; gentle, but firm enough to make your breath catch. His other hand gripped your waist, sliding lower, palming your ass like it belonged to him.

“Dean, I was just—”

“Just what?” he cut you off, crowding your body with his. “Just bein’ a little tease? Standing here all wet, touchin’ yourself like I ain’t in the next room?”

“I wasn’t—!”

He grinned. That dark, sinful grin that made your stomach drop and your thighs tremble. “You gonna lie to me, sweetheart?” he growled, knee slotting between yours to force your legs apart. “I can smell how fuckin’ needy you are.”

His fingers slid down your stomach, over your mound, and between your folds; already wet from the water, but soaked from him. “Christ,” he hissed, rubbing slow circles over your clit. “You’re drippin’, and I haven’t even gotten started.”

Your head fell back against the tile with a moan. You were losing it, fast. The way he touched you, the way he owned you in the smallest movements, like he already knew exactly how to destroy you.

Then, he dropped to his knees. Right there on the wet shower floor.

“Dean, what are you—”

“Gonna make you scream,” he said simply. “Gonna eat this sweet little pussy until your legs give out. Hold on, baby.”

You had no time to prepare.

His mouth latched onto your clit like he was starving. Tongue flicking, lips sucking, fingers spreading you open so he could get deeper. He moaned into you like the taste of you was holy.

You screamed.

Your hand flew to his hair, yanking hard, but he just groaned, grinding his face into your cunt like it was the only thing that mattered.

And then? Two fingers.

He slid them inside without warning— deep, crooked just right, while his tongue worked your clit with dizzying precision. “Dean—oh my God—”

“You gonna moan God’s name now, baby? Or mine?”

You screamed as his fingers curled deep inside you, pressing right into that spot that made your legs give out. He caught you, of course. Pressed you hard to the tile and started pumping his fingers in and out like he owned the place.

You were shaking. Gasping. Losing yourself against the wall while the shower poured over you and your boyfriend wrecked you on his knees.

“F-Fuck, Dean—Dean, I—”

“You gonna come on my face, baby?” he growled, breath hot and wet against your core. “Do it. I wanna taste it.”

And you did. Loud. Helpless. Walls clenching around his fingers while your knees buckled.

But he caught you. Hands on your thighs, lifting you off the floor like you weighed nothing. Your back hit the tile again, this time with your legs around his waist and his cock rubbing against your soaked folds.

“Think I’m done?” he growled, lining himself up.

“Dean, please—”

One thrust.

You cried out. Loud. Head falling back as he filled you— thick, hard, perfect. “God, this pussy’s tight,” he hissed, pulling back and slamming in again. “Like you were made for me.”

He started to move. Rough, punishing thrusts that shook your whole body as water streamed down your chest and his cock hit every spot inside you that had never been touched like this before.

“Yours,” you gasped. “It’s yours, it’s always been—”

“That’s fuckin’ right,” he snarled. “No one else gets this. No one else hears these sounds. You moan for me. You come for me.”

You were delirious.

Between the steam, the heat, the sound of skin on skin, his cock slamming deep and fast inside you, it was too much. “Say it,” he growled, hand back around your throat, not squeezing—just holding. Owning. “Say who fuckin’ owns you.”

“You, Dean, you do,” you cried. “All yours, please don’t stop—!”

“Not gonna. Not until this whole shower smells like sex. Not until you can’t fuckin’ stand up without thinkin�� of me.”

You came again. Harder. Screaming.

Your body clung to his, shaking and sobbing while he kept thrusting through it, chasing his own release now. His mouth found yours—messy, wet, desperate—and when he finally came, it was with a groan so deep it shook you both.

Hot ropes of cum spilled inside you as he buried himself to the hilt, teeth biting your shoulder, hands digging into your hips to keep you in place.

The water kept running. The room was soaked. You were drenched in sweat, water, and him.

And Dean?

He nuzzled into your neck, voice hoarse and wrecked,

“Next time, don’t start the shower without me, baby.”

taglist; @lieutenantchaos @bejeweledinterludes @ambiguous-avery @mostlymarvelgirl @freeluigihesbae @brutuuallove @impala67rollingthroughtown @multiversefanfics @littlesoulshine @starzify @ladykitana90 @idontwannabehere78 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @pieandflannel @tendertulip @tinas111 @everythingisaspectrum @pennywatsonlafayette @lunaleah @cupidzbunny @amsliajskxkxkx @anxiety-prime-max @ninii-winchester @suckitands33 @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @dollyfetti @riteofpassage77 @spookyysinsanity ⊹ ࣪ ˖

�� wanna be tagged in my fics?.. don't be shy! @ taglist.

tysm for reading! more works incoming @ library.

#༊*·˚ wvyik #sofia writes ✎#dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n #supernatural x reader

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cutecatlov3r · 2 years ago

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oh to be ran through by denki, sero, katsuki, and kirishima…

what would it be like? college au

a/n: bro I haven’t posted in forever ! but maybe I’m back for awhile ? you should check out my c.ai bots :3 dekusquad ver here .

it’ll start off with the five of you chilling in sero’s college dorm. you five all just playing games and chatting. until denki realizes there is literally a girl in the room with the four of them. the reality of the situation, you’ve been their friend for a few years... why the hell hasn’t he thought of this sooner?! he’s seen too much porn to know what could go down.

so when you go to the bathroom he talks to the boys about the situation he’s playing in his head.

“well we could always try to convince her, I mean she’s been our friend for years and I’d be so down to fuck her,” he spoke unashamed.

next thing you know, you’re fully convinced on letting it happen, the boys basically begging you to let them inside of you .

Bakugou obviously going first. he has to be the number one in everything. so when you allow him to fuck you, he’s the one to take off your clothes, being rough. he’ll rip them up, not caring. when he whips out his cock it’s long and thick, slapping against his abdomen as it is released.

“g’na fuck you nice and good, you slut”

and he does, he wastes no time plunging into you deeply. of course you didn’t really need foreplay due to the fact it turned you on to see them all begging for you to fuck them. as he fucks you in a mating press he will pull your hair. it’s a little off because he’s making out with you so sensually and sweet but his cock is ramming into you, only caring for it’s own pleasure.

“fuck… fuck you’re so tight, stop squeezin’ around me like that, dumbass…” he pants, voice a little raspy.

the boys watching, the heat inside them unbearable. just looking at your whiny face as bakugou fucks deep in you makes them so needy and heated.

he keeps going hard, his tip occasionally grazing against your cervix.

in the end, bakugou will gladly cum deep inside you, filling you up. pulling out he’ll watch it seep out, using his fingers to fuck it back into your hole.

Sero is next, looking down at you as you whine due to bakugou’s cum spilling on to your thighs. it was an uncomfortable feeling but you sort of liked it.

“don’t worry sweetheart… i will be nice and slow” he hums, kissing your neck, groping your ass.

he takes off his pants as he’s kissing you, placing you on his lap. his cock was long, not as girthy as bakugou’s cock but it looked a bit longer. he groans as he slips inside your wet and sloppy cunt. he rolls your hips, his cock rubbing against your g-spot as he rolls them.

he leans his back on the ledge of the couch, getting a good view of your sticky pussy moving up and down his cock. he loved the squelching noises it made. it was so erotic… the boys watching also loved it, they fucking needed you.

towards his climax he grabs you close, pressing your chest against his as he pistons his cock inside you, chasing his high.

“s-shit! fuck- ah- im gonna fucking cum… yeah, yeah, right in your slutty pussy”

you were moaning and creaming around his dick. the rutting hitting your g-spot over and over again. you were out of breath and he just kept going, holding you tightly so you couldn’t use your arms to get away from his body.

eventually he came inside you. his cum mixing around with bakugou’s. both of their bodily fluids leaking out of your slutty hole.

Denki happily offers to go next, it was his idea after all. look, he’s a pervert whose down for anything, he doesn’t even want his dick inside your messy cunt that was still leaking of sero and bakugou’s cum, instead he honestly wanted to give you a facial. so when you looked at him with your dazed eyes, he grabbed your chin, nodding his head to the floor.

“come on baby, on your knees for me” he smiled happily with a small chuckle.

you got on to your knees, looking up at denki. he held your cheek as he took out his hardened cock. it slapped against your face… your eyes glued to the pink tip that leaked of precum. he was pretty long, you’ll give him that.

without warning though, he shoved his dick right in between your cute soft lips, letting out a little whine. one hand gripped your hair, the other holding his shirt up so he can see as your tongue glided against him.

“s…so warm…” he moaned, eyes shutting slightly. though he did reach down to squeeze your breast, pinching your hard nipple.

your head bobbed on his cock, his grip on your hair tightening slightly. with your hand you fondled with his balls which caused an audible groan as he thrusted into your mouth more.

spit was rolling down your chin. your eyes fluttering as you looked up at denki who now has his shirt in his mouth. he gripped it with his teeth, his free hand grabbing some more of your hair and he thrusted his hips more.

after hitting the back of your throat, it caused him to go a bit crazy, moving faster, balls slapping against your chin. he was whining and moaning, feeling like he was gonna explode. he pulled out just in time, you stuck out your tongue as he painted your face white.

“that’s it babygirl… all over your face…” he panted, slapping his tip against your tongue.

Kirishima was last, he frowned looking at you, you were so messy.

“let me clean you up” he said softly, taking off his shirt to clean off your cute little face. he brought his shirt down to your cunt, cleaning it off, along with your thighs. there was still sero and bakugou’s cum inside you but he wasn’t gonna worry about cleaning that up. afterwards he sighed happily. he brought you to his lips, placing soft kisses against yours.

“It’s okay… you did so good for us today, y/n. thank you for letting me have the opportunity to please you” he smiled, laying her on the couch gently.

he took the hair out of your face, smiling down at you so sweetly. he started to remove his pants and my god… his cock was huge. it was so fat that it hung low even though he was hard as hell. you were in for it.

“not gonna hurt you, okay? if you need me to stop, I will. i will stop immediately,” he said, softly to which you nodded, propping yourself on your elbows to watch him sink into you. he went slow and steady, one of his hands by your head to balance himself. he was stretching your hole out, you felt so full.

he let out a soft moan as he kept trying to push himself deeper in you.

“g-gonna move now, okay?” he panted, his hips making a bit of movement. his thumb played with your sensitive clit as he made the small fulfilling movements. he rubbed you gently, the rubbing causing you to moan and his cock making you see stars.

a white ring was around his cock, your juices and the other boys around him as he made his small movements.

he whispered sweet nothings in your ear. this thumb rolling around the nub, he knew how to please a woman.

and out of everyone, he made you cum. you squeezed around his dick as you came, causing him to moan. he went down to your chest, sucking your nipples as you felt your bliss. he made sure you came before him, his hips now picking up the pace, your pussy tight around him, your walls clenching in overstimulation.

he went at a moderate pace not to hurt you, pulling out to cum on your stomach, he gave you a sweet kiss, wiping off the cum with his shirt that was on the floor.

“you did so good today, we are so proud of you, y/n”

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goatgoesmbe · 3 months ago

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Hello hello..! and welcome :3

Warning:

I RB/POST A LOT - random rant tagged #mbe rant - might trauma dump, tagged #mbe vent - hyperfixating on COD atm - will post/rb dark content, tagged #cw: dark content (fauxcest, noncon, infidelity, piss kink, etc) - also yap about religious stuff, tagged #cw: religion - #politics - and: 🔞 #cw: nsfw - selfship/yumeshipping: #cw: delulu - #oc x canon

So feel free to block said tags if you're against having them on your dash ❤️

I will block people who supports any kind of generative ai (including c.ai) and puritans.

reminder that hiding behind anon is as safe as turning on incognito mode. as long as you are online, you're never anonymous. so be kind :)

I mostly draw/write for myself so im not open to request atm.. u_u)/ (sorry)

If you feed my works to AI, i will find you and slurp the bone marrow out of your spine.

Feel free to write my ideas yourself though!! ^^)/ just be sure to tag me because i would love to read them :3c

fyi: #bacantar = read later, #bacalagi = read again

pronouns: any (he/they/she)

📚masterlist📚 📒 blurbs/idea list 📒 🔗linktree🔗

🎨art blog🎨 👥OCs stuff 👥 📝writing taglist📝

important: while i do write pure fluff sometimes, this is not a safe place for you— if you're avoiding smut, gore, darkfic, please refer to my sfw sideblog— where i would rb non freaky stuff from here to there → @doesntgombe

ART COMMISSION STATUS: OPEN 🎨

CHECK YOUR COMMISSION STATUS: HERE

🫙Tip jar 👉👈

mBe's islamic sex ed

#mbe intro

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sshadow-heartz · 5 months ago

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Hands-On Experience

‼️Find my Squid Game C.AI here!

‼️Triangle Guard x Player!Reader is here

💕 Square Guard x Circle Guard User

💕word count: 600

💕tags: smut, oral sex, praise, handjob

‼️If you are underage or dislike reading these topics, please avoid! ‼️

Training to be a guard was tough to say the least. Learning to do all of the small tasks as the lowest rank of a circle guard wasn’t proving to come naturally to you. In an attempt to help you out, you had been assigned a square guard to show you the ropes.

From preparing the games, to cleaning up and the various other tasks, your mentor had certainly been hands on. Dark corners where the cameras don’t reach and backrooms in the kitchen are just a few of places the older guard had taught you more than just work.

Currently, you were down in the kitchen sorting portions for each player. A tedious, boring part of the job that numbed your mind. Just as you were placing cartons of milk into rows, you felt strong hands wrapping around your waist.

The square guard behind you leaned down, head against the crook of your neck. You could feel the heat from his body, leaning your hips back to feel his bulge pressing up against you.

“See what you do to me, baby?” He whispers, voice deep and smooth. Pulling you back against his chest, his hands began to wander. Slowly, gently trailing up and down your body, over each muscle and curve. “So fucking perfect…”

Pushing his mask up, he leaned down to kiss your neck, nipping and biting at your smooth skin. Dark hickeys littered your neck, leading down to your collar bones. He chuckled darkly, listening to your breathy moans as he worked your body.

The guard turned you around, unzipping his jumpsuit. Taking your hand, he led you to his hard bulge, allowing you to feel over his underwear. “You learn best with hands on experience, right?” He murmurs, moving your hand up and down. Soft sighs tumble from his lips, and he pulls down his underwear, realising his throbbing cock.

You take his length in your hand, working the shaft with steady paces. Running your fingers along the thick vein on the underside, you feel him watching you with approval. You sink onto your knees, leaning forward to press messy kisses around the tip.

“Yeah, that’s right,” he sighs, eyes falling closed. “You know what to do.”

Swirling your tongue around the tip, you take his cock in your mouth. Looking up through your lashes, you begin to bob your head. Your eyes slip closed, lost in the sensation of pleasing him so well.

Resting his hand on your head, he moans deeply. Pushing your head down slowly, he chuckles as you gag around him. Guiding your head, he continues to let out moans as you work so prettily. He adored the expression on your face, so submissive and drunk on his cock. “You’re so good at taking my cock, baby. I taught you well, huh?”

You feel him thrust his cock as you bob your head, pushing the thick shaft down your throat. His moans slip out, clearly getting closer to his climax. “Don’t fucking stop… you’re so good, keep being good for me like that.”

His praises spur you on, working his cock as best as you can. You feel him hold your head in place, moaning deeply as he comes to the edge. Hot cum spurts down your throat, his eyes shut as he feels your mouth around him.

Looking up at him, you wait until he pulls out before swallowing. Cheeks flushed and eyes glassy, you stay kneeling. His hand reaches down to stroke your cheek, giving you a satisfied smirk.

“You’re clever, aren’t you? Not so hard to teach after all.”

#squid game smut #squid game guard #squid game fanfiction #squid game imagines #squid game x reader #smut #fanfic

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kxsagi · 3 months ago

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“𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫”

a/n: all those aki edits were driving me to a point and here we are (yes this was inspired by a c.ai bot LEAVE ME ALONEEE)

i also wanted to write something that wasn’t a request because it’s been a while 😩

note: i do not condone smoking or littering.

(header art credits go to ndsoda)

the sky is painted in deep, bleeding hues, indigo melting into navy, streaked with the last traces of violet from the sun’s slow departure. it’s blue hour. the city below is a sea of fractured light, neon signs and headlights flickering like stars scattered across the asphalt.

the faint hum of traffic drifts up from the streets, muffled by distance. from aki’s apartment balcony, the world feels quiet. removed. like you’re watching it through frosted glass.

it’s cold. the kind of winter cold that clings to your skin, slipping beneath the wool of your coat and biting softly at the tips of your fingers. your breath rises faintly in the air, turning to pale mist.

aki leans against the balcony railing, sleeves slightly pushed up despite the chill. the fabric of his black coat brushes against your arm, the wool rough but warm. he’s still wearing his formal work clothes beneath it, dark slacks and a white button-up, faintly wrinkled from the day. his tie is loosened just slightly, the top button undone.

he lifts a cigarette to his lips with one hand, shielding the flame with the other as he lights it. the tip glows amber, briefly illuminating the faint redness in his knuckles from the cold.

he takes a slow drag, the embers crackling softly in the quiet. his fingers are trembling faintly when he exhales, but he doesn’t say anything about it. just hands you the cigarette, letting the material brush against your fingers.

you take it without a word. the paper is slightly damp from his lips, still warm. you bring it to your mouth, inhaling slowly, the burn sharp against your lungs.

neither of you speak. you simply stand there, side by side, coats brushing together softly in the wind, sharing a cigarette while the city quietly breathes beneath you.

aki’s eyes are fixed on the skyline. the blue hour light casts a soft glow over his face – the sharp cut of his jaw, the faint crease between his brows. there’s a stillness to him tonight. not the usual calm he carries with him, but something heavier. more brittle.

and then he speaks.

"wanna run away together?"

his voice is low, rough around the edges, barely louder than the wind that cuts through the narrow gap between the buildings. the words are so casual, so offhanded, that for a second you almost think you misheard him.

you glance over at him, the cigarette dangling loosely from your fingers. "you getting sentimental on me, aki?" you tease softly, a faint smirk tugging at your lips.

but he doesn’t look at you. doesn’t even blink.

he exhales slowly through his nose, eyes still fixed on the skyline, cigarette trembling slightly between his fingers.

"i mean it."

his voice is quieter this time, barely above a whisper.

your smile slips slightly. the smoke lingers faintly between you, curling in the cold air. when you glance at him again, you notice the tightness in his jaw. the way his throat bobs slightly when he swallows.

"yeah?" you ask evenly, keeping your voice composed. your eyes stay steady, calm. "where to?"

for a moment, he doesn’t answer. he brings the cigarette back to his lips, but his hand shakes just slightly when he takes another drag.

"doesn’t matter, whether it’s france or switzerland," he mutters after a beat. his voice is hoarse, barely louder than the faint buzz of the city below. "just… somewhere far away. where no one knows us. where we can –"

he stops himself, inhaling sharply through his nose. his fingers tighten slightly around the cigarette.

"where we can what?" you ask softly. your voice is steady, but you keep it low, careful not to let it slip through the cracks in his.

he exhales slowly, but the breath is shaky when it leaves him.

"be something else," he murmurs at last, the words slipping out hoarse and brittle, barely louder than the wind.

his grip around the cigarette weakens slightly, and when he passes it back to you, you can feel the faint tremor in his fingers. you take it without a word, bringing it to your lips.

there’s a brief stretch of silence, just the two of you standing there, smoke curling softly between your faces, coats brushing faintly as the wind cuts through.

then quietly, you say, "you know it won’t matter, right?" your voice is steady, but the weight behind it makes the words feel heavier than they should.

he exhales sharply through his nose, the corner of his mouth tugging slightly into something that isn’t quite a smile.

"i know."

of course he knows. you both do. there’s no running away. not from this. not from the ticking clocks carved into your skin by devils with crooked smiles and indestructible contracts.

your time is slipping through the cracks in your fingers, no matter how tightly you try to hold on. you can feel it every time you step outside, every time you come back with blood on your hands that isn’t yours.

there’s no escaping it. just delayed endings.

"but still," he adds softly, voice barely louder than a breath. "i think about it sometimes."

his eyes are heavy when he glances at you, the cigarette smoldering faintly between your fingers.

"you?" he asks, quieter this time.

you meet his gaze calmly, unflinching. the smoke lingers faintly between you, but neither of you move away.

"yeah," you murmur. your voice is steady, almost casual, as you take another drag from the cigarette. the paper crackles faintly, embers dimming slightly in the winter wind. "all the time."

his lips twitch slightly at that, just barely. it’s not a smile. more like the ghost of one. faint. tired.

without a word, you hold the cigarette out to him. he doesn’t take it right away. just watches the way your fingers shake faintly from the cold, from the weight of it all. then he leans in slightly, close enough that his lips brush against your knuckles as he takes the cigarette from you.

he doesn’t lean back. not all the way. he stays close, his breath warm against your skin, his forehead nearly brushing yours.

"stay," he murmurs softly. the word catches faintly in his throat, brittle and frayed at the edges.

there’s no hesitation when you reach for him. your fingers brush against the back of his neck, warm against the cold skin there, and you gently tug him closer.

"i’m right here, aki," you breathe softly.

when he kisses you, it’s slow and quiet. not desperate, not rushed. just heavy. tired. his lips are chapped from the cold, tasting faintly of nicotine and something bitter, but the way he holds you makes your chest ache.

his free hand finds your waist, clumsy and trembling slightly, fingers curling into the fabric of your coat. you feel the faint, uneven shiver of his breath when he exhales against your lips.

when he pulls back, he doesn’t go far. his forehead stays pressed softly against yours, and his eyes, half-lidded and heavy, stay fixed on you.

"let’s run away," he whispers, softer this time. it’s not a question anymore. it’s a quiet plea.

you kiss him again, slow and steady. your hand tightens faintly around the back of his neck, fingers threading into his hair, grounding him.

"okay," you whisper softly, voice barely above the wind. "let’s go."

and for the first time in a long time, aki hayakawa lets himself imagine the possibility of something else.

#this man makes me cry #i love aki hayakawa #tatsuki fujimoto pls bring him back???#aki hayakawa #hayakawa aki #aki chainsaw man #aki hayakawa x reader #hayakawa aki x reader #chainsaw man #chainsaw man x reader #csm #csm x reader #blue hour

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j1nx-l0v3r · 3 months ago

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Babysitter

-Short idea, based on a c.ai bot of my property. Probably going to have a another part.-

In The Eye Of The Storm-

[🐋]

Zaun was never quiet. Even in the dead of night, the city hummed with the murmur of Shimmer addicts, the clinking of glass, the distant echoes of violence. But here, in Silco’s office, there was a moment of stillness—at least for now.

Jinx sat perched on your lap, her back resting against your chest, her blue braids draped over your arms like silk ropes. The scent of gunpowder clung to her clothes, mixing with the faint metallic tang of Zaun’s polluted air. You barely reacted to her weight; this wasn’t the first time she’d made herself comfortable like this, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

You focused on the papers spread across Silco’s desk, the flickering lamplight casting long shadows across your work. Numbers, shipments, names—things you used to ignore when your only job was pulling a trigger. But the day Silco shoved a trembling, wide-eyed Powder into your arms and told you to “make sure she doesn’t get herself killed,” your life had changed.

At first, she had been a burden, a wild thing clinging to you like a barnacle. But as the years passed, she became something else—something tangled and complicated. She had gone from a scared child to the chaos of Jinx, and somewhere along the way, the way she looked at you had changed.

Everyone in Zaun knew it.

Right now, Jinx’s fingers tapped idly against your arm, her gaze fixed on you as you worked. You took a slow drag from your cigarette, the smoke curling through the air in lazy spirals.

Then—

"Can I have a drag?"

You glanced down, meeting her big, puppy-dog eyes—unnervingly blue, too bright, too sharp. The kind of eyes that made it impossible to ignore her.

You exhaled smoke through your nose, unimpressed. "No."

Jinx pouted dramatically, wiggling deeper into your lap like a spoiled cat. "C’moooon," she whined. "You used to kill people for living, and now you're lecturing me on bad habits?"

You flicked ash into a tray, leveling her with a stare. "I killed people. I didn’t hand kids cigarettes."

She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I'm not a kid."

"You act like one."

She smirked, leaning in closer, her breath warm against your neck. "Not in every way."

You tensed, but she just laughed, tipping her head back so her wild grin was inches from your face. Jinx was always like this—always pushing, teasing, trying to see where your breaking point was.

Silco tolerated it. Sevika rolled her eyes at it. The rest of Zaun either found it hilarious or pitied you.

You sighed, shifting slightly. "Get off."

Jinx hummed, tilting her head. "Nah. I’m comfy."

"Jinx—"

"Y'know, Silco would let me have a drag," she mused, her fingers trailing absently over your wrist. "Maybe I should go ask him instead."

You smirked. "Go ahead. Let’s see if he laughs in your face or throws you out of the office."

She scrunched her nose, knowing you were right.

Then, suddenly, she reached up, plucking the cigarette from between your fingers with a quick, practiced motion.

Before you could react, she took a drag.

You expected her to cough. Maybe regret it. But instead, she held your gaze, exhaled the smoke in a perfect ring, and smirked. "Mmmh, not bad..."

You narrowed your eyes. "You're a brat."

"Yeah, but I'm your brat."

The worst part? You couldn’t even argue with that.

𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝙼𝚈𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙲𝚎𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗...

I really liked this short thing so probably I would work in a next part, I have some ideas for this...

#i love jinx #obsessed jinx lover #jinx league of legends #jinx arcane #jinx #im just a girl obsessed with jinx #c.ai #c.ai bot creator #c.ai creator #short ideas about Jinx #jinx fanfic #bot of Jinx #jinx lover #lover of jinx #jinx x reader #jinx x you #jinx x y/n

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nhmkhnh · 1 month ago

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maybe i just wanna be yours.

preface: secrets i have held in my heart—are harder to hide than i thought.

pairings: vi x fem!reader

author's note: alright part two of this timeline is coming!! thank you for your waiting!! AHHHHHHHHH STILL A YEARNER OF THIS #cantlie.

wrn: lowercase ;; explicit content at first (minors & men dni) ;; long and messy.

masterlist / janitor ai / c.ai / carrd

pervious part ʚɞ next part (?)

she didn’t mean for it to go like this.

you were laughing at something—fuck if she could remember what—and the sound hit her like a sucker punch. sweet and warm and dangerous.

vi tipped back the rest of her whiskey, throat burning, head buzzing with more than just the alcohol. she’d been good for too long. pretending she didn’t watch the way your lips moved. pretending she didn’t want you—need you—like air.

but tonight? something cracked.

your knee brushed hers under the table. you leaned close to ask her something. she didn’t even hear it—just saw your lips move and snapped.

her hand shot out, gripping your jaw, rough and sudden.

“say that again,” she rasped. voice low, thick with whiskey and something darker.

you blinked. lips parted.

that was it. she was done pretending.

she kissed you like a threat—like she was furious at herself for waiting this long. her other hand slammed on the table behind you for leverage, mouth hot and bruising, tongue fucking into your mouth like it was a fight she had to win.

you gasped and she growled, dragging you into her lap without a second thought, the chair screeching under the movement. her hands were everywhere—one gripping your waist, the other in your hair, yanking your head back so she could bite down your neck.

“you’ve got no idea,” she muttered against your skin, breath hot, “how long i’ve wanted this—you—fuckin’ sittin’ there lookin’ like that, all sweet, like you don’t know what you do to me.”

you moaned her name and it broke something in her.

vi pushed you against the wall, hips grinding hard against yours, the heat between your bodies catching like flame. her fingers tugged at your clothes, rough and impatient, kissing you with the kind of hunger that made her knees shake.

she didn’t slow down. couldn’t. her mind was red-hot static, every nerve screaming touch her, take her, taste her.

“tell me to stop,” she breathed, forehead pressed to yours, eyes wild and stormy.

you didn’t.

so she took.

her hand slipped under your waistband, fingers slick with want, and she hissed at how ready you already were.

“shit… you’ve been wantin’ this too, haven’t you?” she growled, smirking against your neck. “drippin’ for me, baby…”

her name fell from your lips again, breathy, desperate—and she fucking snapped.

she pushed two fingers into you without warning, deep and rough, and your whole body jolted. vi groaned low in her throat, her free hand pinning your hips to the wall so she could fuck into you harder.

“so fuckin’ tight,” she muttered, eyes locked on your face. “take it. you can take it, can’t you, cupcake?”

your moans were everything. they made her drunker than the whiskey ever could.

and when you clenched around her, close, trembling, begging—

she kissed you hard, swallowed your cries, and kept going until you shattered in her hands.

only then did she slow.

only then did she whisper, voice raw and ruined:

“i ain’t lettin’ you go after this.”

the water was hot. scalding, almost. but vi didn’t flinch. she stood there, head bowed, fists braced against the shower wall like she could push the ache out of her body. her knuckles were still bruised from last night’s fight—the pit, not the one she had with herself.

and then… you walked in. quiet, but not hesitant. like you belonged there. in her space. in her world.

vi’s jaw clenched. she heard the rustle of fabric. the soft sound of you stepping in behind her. bare skin brushing hers.

and fuck, she almost dropped.

she didn’t look at you right away. couldn’t. she was too afraid she’d see regret in your eyes.

but you didn’t pull away.

your hands slid around her waist—slowly, gently—and your cheek pressed between her shoulder blades.

she exhaled, shaky.

“you shouldn’t…” her voice cracked. “shouldn’t be here. i’m not…”

not what?

not good for you?

not soft enough?

not the kind of girl who knows how to be loved?

you kissed her back, and the words died.

vi turned around—finally looked at you—and it hit her all over again. the way your eyes held hers like you meant it. the way you didn’t flinch when she raised her hand to your face, brushing wet hair from your skin.

she didn’t say a word. just kissed you. deep. slow. like she’d never done it before. like she meant it this time.

your fingers dug into her hips.

that was all she needed.

her hands found your thighs, gripped tight, lifting you effortlessly against the tile. you gasped, arms wrapping around her neck, and vi growled low in her throat.

water streamed over both of you, hot and relentless.

her mouth was on your throat. your collarbone. down your chest, biting, sucking, marking what was hers.

she pinned you with her body, hips grinding against your slick heat, every muscle in her aching for more.

“i can’t stop,” she whispered, voice raw. “you drive me fuckin’ insane.”

you whimpered, legs trembling around her waist.

vi smirked. “yeah? that good, huh?”

she slipped her hand between your thighs—rough fingers finding you, already wet from the water and need.

“fuck, baby… soaked for me.”

she pushed two fingers in—slow, deep, deliberate. watched your face as she did it.

your head fell back, breathless.

she kissed your neck as she started moving—fucking you on her hand with firm, rhythmic thrusts, her other hand gripping your ass, holding you in place while you took everything she gave.

the tile shuddered under her strength.

vi was panting now, forehead pressed to yours, water running down her face like tears she didn’t cry.

“look at me,” she whispered. “don’t fuckin’ look away.”

you did. and when your eyes locked—wide, wrecked, full of something she didn’t deserve—vi felt it snap.

not the lust.

not the control.

her heart.

she pushed deeper, faster, until your body clenched and shook around her fingers, moaning her name like it was holy.

and she didn’t stop. not until your legs gave out and she carried you down to the shower floor, cradling you in her arms as the steam wrapped around you both.

she buried her face in your neck.

“i’ve never… never felt this for anyone,” she murmured. “and it’s fuckin’ terrifying.”

vi never thought she’d get used to quiet.

not after years of waking to sirens, threats, fists slamming on steel doors. but now?

now she wakes to the weight of your thigh slung over hers. to the sound of your breathing—steady, warm, safe.

sunlight spills through the curtains. the cheap kind she never used to notice. but now it lands on your face, catches in your lashes, and she swears her heart forgets how to beat.

she doesn't move. doesn’t speak. just stares.

this isn’t the kind of thing she ever thought she could have. not this softness. this stillness. this you.

her fingers drift over your back, slow and reverent. you murmur something in your sleep. curl closer. and she—

fuck, she could die here.

“cupcake,” she whispers, voice cracking, “how’d i ever get this lucky?”

she’d never admit it, but shopping with you is one of her favorite things.

you push the cart. vi walks beside you, throwing dumb shit into it just to make you laugh. a box of cereal with a stupid mascot. that candy you like but always pretend not to buy.

she watches you read the labels. watches the way your nose scrunches when you compare prices. watches the way you hum when you’re thinking.

and her chest hurts with how much she loves you.

she leans over, plucks a peach off the pile, and holds it up.

“sweet,” she says. “like you.”

you shove her, grinning. “corny.”

vi winks. “goes great in smoothies though.”

she doesn’t tell you she’s memorized your favorite brand of tea. or that she keeps extra pads under the sink just in case. or that she grabs an extra bottle of that shampoo you like because the scent stays on her pillow after you shower.

she just follows you down the aisle, her whole world in a grocery cart.

vi doesn’t cook. not really.

but she tries.

you’ve been working late all week, coming home with tired eyes and tight shoulders. and tonight, she wants to do something about it. so she grabs a pan. googles some shit. burns her hand twice.

by the time you walk in, the place smells like slightly scorched garlic and stress.

you blink. “vi?”

she freezes, holding a spatula like a weapon.

“surprise,” she says weakly.

you laugh. she dies a little.

dinner’s… edible. barely. but you eat it, smiling through every bite. and when you lean over the table, kiss her with your lips tasting like burnt toast and basil, vi feels like she just won the fuckin’ lottery.

“next time,” she mutters, “i’m orderin’ takeout.”

the rain’s coming down hard.

vi pulls her hoodie tighter around you. it’s huge—swallows you whole—and that sight? it kills her.

you’re walking side by side under a tiny awning, hands shoved in one shared pocket, your head tucked into her shoulder.

vi doesn’t speak. she doesn’t need to.

the smell of rain. your weight leaning into hers. the sound of your laugh when you step in a puddle by accident—it’s all too much.

she tugs you closer, kisses the top of your head, and says:

“i could do this forever.”

and fuck, she means it.

the screen’s still playing, but vi hasn’t looked at it in half an hour.

she’s lying with her head in your lap, your fingers carding through her hair, and her eyes flutter closed every time you scratch just behind her ear.

she’s not even watching the movie. not really.

she’s listening to your heartbeat. to the rise and fall of your breath. to the way you giggle at dumb scenes.

“you okay?” you ask softly.

she opens one eye, smirking. “more than okay.”

you kiss her forehead and she melts, fingers curling around your thigh like she’ll never let go.

she wakes up swinging—fist slamming into the air, chest heaving, skin soaked in sweat.

it takes her a second to remember.

she’s not in the pit. not in a cell. not bleeding on the floor of some godforsaken warehouse.

she’s in your bed. safe.

you stir beside her, eyes half-lidded with sleep. “vi…?”

her breath hitches. “just a dream. sorry.”

you don’t say anything. just slide your hand into hers, grip it tight. anchor her.

she pulls you close, buries her face in your neck, and for the first time in weeks, the shaking stops.

music plays through the speakers—some old song she barely remembers.

you’re swaying, barefoot in one of her shirts, and vi can’t help herself. she grabs your hand, pulls you into a clumsy spin.

you yelp. laugh. stumble right into her arms.

she catches you, grinning. “told you i had moves.”

“you suck.”

“sure do,” she says, kissing your nose. “suck real good.”

you groan. she winks.

and then she pulls you into a slow sway, her arms wrapping around you, face buried in your shoulder.

the pan’s on the stove. dinner can burn.

she’s not letting go.

she’s sitting on the edge of the tub, shirt off, blood on her ribs.

you’re kneeling in front of her. cleaning the cuts. hands steady.

vi watches you, her jaw clenched. not from pain. from the way you look at her. like she’s still worth loving.

“you should hate this,” she says suddenly. “me. this. all of it.”

you glance up, brow raised. but she can’t meet your eyes.

“i’m tryin’,” she mutters. “to be better. for you.”

your hands pause on her side. softly, silently, you keep working. not saying anything.

that’s worse.

because it means you already know.

she never told you the date. she didn’t want to.

birthdays meant nothing to her. just another number. another year clawed out of survival.

but somehow, you found out.

she walks in and there it is—cake. candles. a dumb little banner that says happy you made it, vi!

and you. holding out a single wrapped box. smiling like the sun.

vi’s throat closes.

“you didn’t have to—”

“i wanted to.”

she opens the box with shaking hands. it’s a locket. inside is a picture of you. and her. laughing.

she looks up, eyes stinging.

“you’re killin’ me, cupcake.”

she had a speech.

she practiced it. rehearsed it in her head for weeks.

but now? now you’re looking at her, standing barefoot in the living room in that ratty old shirt she loves, and vi can’t remember a single word.

so she drops to one knee. right there. no music. no candles. just you.

your hands fly to your mouth. “vi—?”

she pulls out the ring—simple, scratched, handmade—and her hands tremble.

“i ain’t good with words,” she croaks. “but i’m good at fighting. and i’ll fight for you. forever. if you’ll let me.”

you start crying.

she does too.

“you’ll marry me, right? please say yes.”

vi’s not built for this. guest lists? seating charts? cake tastings?

she’s staring at a binder you made. it has tabs. tabs, cupcake. color-coded and everything. you’re excited, bouncing around with fabric swatches, asking her about themes.

and she’s just… watching.

watching the way your eyes light up. the way you chew your lip when deciding between lavender or lilac. the way you keep saying our wedding, like it’s real.

she doesn’t even care if the food sucks. if her tux is itchy. if it rains.

as long as you’re at the end of that aisle, vi’ll be fine.

“whatever you want,” she murmurs. “it’s already perfect.”

she wakes up before you.

light spills across the sheets. your hand is on her chest. your head tucked under her chin.

and on your finger—her ring. that little handmade band she nearly fumbled when proposing.

it fits you too well. like it was always meant to be there.

vi doesn’t move. just stares at your hand, breath held like it’s a sacred thing.

she presses a kiss to your forehead, eyes stinging.

mine, she thinks.

you’re mine.

some nights, she still wakes up screaming.

fists clenched. body cold. mind stuck in the past.

you’re always there. half-asleep, soft hands on her face, whispering her name.

“it’s not real,” you say. “you’re safe. you’re home.”

home.

it used to be a word she never believed in. now? it sounds like you. feels like your arms.

she curls into you. breathes deep.

“don’t let go,” she whispers.

“i won’t.”

you never do.

you show up at her gym—sweaty, worn out, bandaged knuckles—and hand her a little bouquet.

“just ‘cause,” you say.

vi stares. then looks around like you’ve just handed her a bomb.

“you brought flowers? to a fight club?”

you shrug. “they reminded me of you.”

she looks again—roses, violets, a few little blue ones she can’t name.

fuck, her chest aches.

“cupcake,” she mutters, clutching them tight, “you’re gonna kill me with this sweetness.”

she’s at the bar. pays with crumpled bills. the picture slips out by accident.

tiny. folded. faded at the edges.

it’s you, grinning. probably from that road trip. hair windblown. eyes bright.

the bartender raises a brow. “she yours?”

vi grins. “hell yeah.”

she tucks the photo back into her wallet like it’s gold.

it’s quiet. candlelight flickers off the tiled walls.

you’re in front of her, back pressed to her chest, and vi’s arms wrap around your waist like you’ll float away.

you sigh. she kisses your shoulder. everything smells like lavender.

“you’re relaxed,” you whisper.

she nods. “only with you.”

you’re at the store. someone compliments your ring.

“your girlfriend?” they ask.

vi hesitates. then:

“my wife.”

you freeze. so does she.

you turn, smile soft. “say it again.”

she clears her throat. “my wife.”

you giggle. she grins. and inside, her heart explodes.

you suggest painting the walls. something bright.

vi ends up with paint on her nose. in her hair. you laugh so hard you fall off the ladder.

she catches you mid-sprawl, arms locked around your waist.

“you tryin’ to die before the wedding?”

“no,” you say, breathless. “i just trust you’ll catch me.”

she swallows hard.

always.

you’re in the living room. music low. spinning slowly in your pajamas.

vi leans against the doorway, arms crossed, jaw slack.

you don’t see her. just move like you’re floating. barefoot. happy.

she’s seen beauty before. but nothing like this.

nothing like you.

she can’t sleep.

not because she’s scared. but because it’s real now.

tomorrow, you’ll stand in front of her in white. or whatever you picked. you’ll say yes. forever.

and she—vi, the fuck-up, the fighter, the girl who never thought she’d make it—gets to be yours.

you roll over in your sleep. reach for her, eyes still closed.

she slips in behind you, breath catching.

“i’ll make you proud,” she whispers into your hair. “every fuckin’ day.”

AHHHHHHHHH THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK TODAY! #viyearners for the next part (jk imma doing it anyway)

#vi x reader #violet x reader #vi arcane #arcane

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rhiannonsknife · 3 months ago

Note

missing lottienat like a mf only you can cure this...would you do a bot of them and user spending like a self care day together? precharsh maybe? just lazing around all day, watching movies, wearing pjs, doing something crafty (nat somehow absolutley fucks it up) and OH lottie making them some rich girl ass cocktails...i love them so bad

i understand you have a lot of reqs on your plate though so just a small reassurance to take as much time as you need, you're killing it!!

-tulip anon (im on my laptop lolz)

aaah this took forever, i’m so sorry 🌷 anon!! as always: info + link below <3

“you know, for someone who owns, like, a million of these, you barely ever paint your nails, lottie!”

nat’s voice is lazy, her head tipped back as she sinks further into lottie’s ridiculously plush couch and examines her freshly painted nails: a deep shade of red. she twists the cap back onto the bottle, smirking as lottie’s voice drifts in from the kitchen, where she’s currently mixing up some kind of fancy cocktails.

“that’s what i have you for,” she teases, the clink of ice against glass punctuating her words. her tv still hums in the background, playing some cheesy rom-com none of you are really paying attention to.

nat huffs a laugh, wiggling her fingers in front of you. “what do you think? not bad, right?” you eye her nails skeptically. the color is nice, but the polish is a little uneven, the edges messy. nat follows your gaze and grins. “okay, so i’m a little out of practice. but i’ll do yours next, promise i’ll actually try!”

you hesitate. the last time you let nat do something like this, she convinced you to let her cut your hair in her trailer’s tiny bathroom (it wasn’t bad, exactly, but you’d learned your lesson).

lottie, finally joining you both, settles in beside you on the couch, one glass cool against your knee as she presses it into your hand. “you should let her,” she says, sipping her own drink. “it’s self-care day, after all”

nat leans in, holding the nail polish between her fingers. “come on, i’ll even let you pick the color!”

between lottie’s expectant look and the way nat is already bouncing a little in excitement, you know you’re going to give in. with a sigh, you reach for the bottle. “fine, but if you mess it up, you’re fixing it!”

nat’s smile widens as she pops the cap open. “deal!”

— c.ai

#˙🔗 ̟ !! my bots #lottienat #lottienat x reader #lottienat x you #lottie matthews #lottie matthews x reader #lottie matthews x you #nat scatorccio #nat scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio x you #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #🌷 anon

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abbonation · 6 days ago

Text

In the Back of His Truck

John Price x Fat!Reader

⚠️18+ below the cut, Minors DNI, do NOT feed my writing to c.ai or any other generative AI platform! ⚠️

I just know John Price drives a big ole, lifted 1970s- 80s Crew Cab F-250. It’s loud, obnoxiously cool- and the back is fitted with his tool box and on the go weaponry cabinet. The seats have those rag rug covers on them. He’s always got oldies playing, Your Love by The Outfield is on currently.

When he sees you plodding uphill on main street toward the Inn, toting your suitcase and bags, he slows and pulls over to the side of the road. “Wan’ some help?”

You glance up at him, sweat dripping and stinging your eyes. “‘m fine, thanks,” you huff out and make to continue on. But he’s out of the truck and opening the tailgate before you can take a step. “‘ere,” he huffs as he lifts your suitcase in one motion into the truck bed, “There we go. C’mon then,” he opens the truck door and holds his hand out for you to climb in.

You had heard people up north were nice, but not this nice. You laugh nervously, “You’re not a serial killer, right?”

He makes eye contact with you, shooting a sly smile your way, “Course not, love.”

You hum in affirmation and pull yourself up into his truck with his hand, the thing must be nearly 4 feet up off the ground, and you’re already exerted from the trek up to this point- too tired to argue or subject your feet to anymore walking.

But it’s not everyday a sweet plushie hen like yourself falls into his hands, John moved on instinct upon seeing you- not stopping to decide if what he was doing was sensible.

No, from now on, as long as you’ll let him, you won’t be carrying your suitcase ever again- in fact, you won’t be carrying anything. Except his babies around in your belly and on your wide hips for the rest of your life.

— - But let’s not get too ahead of ourselves. - —

Two months later and you’re parked off the side of the road, hidden somewhere near La Poel, on a weekend camping trip with Price during his leave. The trucks cab is opened out to the water, both the front door and suicide door opened for ample room- you’re face down, ass up and John is on his knees behind you, eating. Some old rock song plays through the radio while his tongue flattens against you, his face is as close as he can possibly be to your cunt, his scruff rough against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs; you swish your hips side to side to ride his mouth. John’s unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans, so he can fist his cock while he laps at you.

You’re mewling for him, “Fuck, John, yes-“ and he can hardly keep it together beneath you. Once you’re begging for him, he pushes up off the ground, standing before you, and shoves his old Levi’s the rest of the way down his wide hairy thighs, exposing his thick, veiny prick and fat balls to you. You peek under where your belly hangs, reaching to hold his sac and guide him into your soppy hole.

His eyes roll back, “fuckin’ ell, hunny, need me that bad?” His mauve colored tip notches inside you and you moan your approval to him, desperate for him to manhandle you a little. “Please, John, baby-“ your finger tips dance over your clit while he fucks you. Price spreads your cheeks and spits right between them; your cheeks heat when he says, “Bet your little asshole is tight too,” you clench down on him. He laughs meanly and grips the fat of your hips. “Yeah, you like that, don’chya. Like bein’ a nasty little thing f’me,”

“Oh- John,” you whine, embarrassed at his words. He fucks you deep, as deep as he can- the sensation of his length against your inner walls and his balls knocking against your gooey, engorged clit plap, plap, plap get you close quick.

When he rubs his thumb over your asshole, barely pressing inside, you start to come, and it’s the most heart-wrenchingly, ball-drainingly sexy thing John has ever seen or heard. His mouth drops open at the way your walls flutter sweetly around his dick, kissing all over his head and frenulum.

There’s no way he can keep from spilling inside you. Your pussy starts to sound all gushy, squirt leaking from your cunt, cum squishing and bubbling around the base of him and into his pubes, down over his balls and onto the rainforest floor. “I’m comin’, hun,” he can’t stop, groaning all deep and raspy as he holds onto your hips to punch into your cunt a final few times. You reach underneath again and grab his balls holding them in place so you can feel them pulse as he empties all his cum into your cunt. “Oh goddamn-“ he moans as he slows, still loosely thrusting as he drains it all into you.

Finally, you release each other, as he pulls back from you, a mess of juice and spunk floods from within your opening, out onto the ground. You collapse forward, tired out from your afternoon delight.

John, however, leans into the front seat, grabs a napkin from the glove box, and scoops up your mess from the ground beneath you, release littered with pieces of moss and twigs now.

“What’re you doing?” You ask him, genuinely.

“The rule is leave no trace, right?” He smiles, raising an eyebrow as he pats your naked calf and pulls you out of the seat towards the water.

——

So yeah basically I need a creampie real bad someone plz help me. Written on the bus ride back from an incredible journey across the PNW, of course the sights were beeeautiiful, but I'll bet the sex out there would be too ;)

#abbonationfics #john price x reader #john price fanfiction #fat!reader #John price x fat!reader #chubby reader #cod fanfic #cod mw2

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